nothing to see here

Imagine, please, that I have flopped into a colorless void of a room, wearing a t-shirt that says "I survived my self-inflicted holiday bake-a-thon and all I got was this stupid t-shirt (and also lots of cookies)".

I made it. I don't feel like my sanity is wholly intact, but I made it!! I also made peppermint bark, 2 dozen plain shortbread cookies, 2 dozen orange spice shortbread cookies, and 40 Mexican wedding cookies, not to mention chocolate Swiss meringue buttercream for a chocolate cake. It took five days in total, but I did it.

The chocolate Swiss meringue buttercream was maybe the most difficult thing on the list? I ended up wasting 2 egg whites, either because I messed something up or because I wasn't patient enough, I do not know which. I tempered the whites, started whipping them on my stand mixer, and they turned glossy and white, but were still soupy as hell. After like 10 or 15 minutes of whipping. So I poured them down the sink, washed all the needed dishes I'd put in the sink, and started over.

I had the same problem a second time, but decided to wait it out and keep whipping the damn egg whites. It took something like 40 whole minutes to get them to the desired volume and stiffness. This after thoroughly wiping down every bowl and utensil with vinegar to get rid of fat residue. The recipe said whipping the whites to stiff peaks would only take "1-2 minutes", but apparently I don't get that kind of courtesy from my egg whites. (And honestly, it could have been the fucking humidity in the kitchen!! I don't know!!!)

Anyway, the buttercream turned out delicious, so there's that.

The peppermint bark was easy, thank god. Melt the bittersweet chocolate, add peppermint extract and salt, spread it on a tray, melt the white chocolate, spread it over top of the first, swirl artistically with a skewer, add peppermint candy bits, and put in the fridge to set. Break it into pieces and store it in a bowl in the fridge! Easy!!

The shortbreads were rather time-consuming, it turns out. They also involved rolling out dough for cookie cutters, which I am notoriously bad at. (I tend to roll too thin, which makes for very crisp cookies that are maybe not as delicious as they could be.) That said! I managed to get the hang of the rolling out eventually. Both batches of dough yielded 2 dozen cookies each, which I cut into stars, snowflakes, and scallop-edged rounds. I made the plain shortbread on Saturday, and then dipped them in a simple glaze on Sunday and decorated them with colored sanding sugar. The orange spice shortbread was baked on Sunday, and yesterday I dipped those in an orange glaze, and decorated them with orange zest and gold and silver sanding sugar.

The Mexican wedding cookies were also time-consuming, a little? (Yesterday was kind of all over the place, to be honest.) Though the nice thing about these cookies is that you bake all of them at the same time--all 40 of them, on two different baking sheets. They also had to be rolled in powdered sugar twice after baking (though I kept a half-dozen aside to stay plain for my Dad, who likes cookies but is also type-2 diabetic).

But now! Everything is ready!!! I just have to get all the cookies (and the bark) sorted into treat bags and into the plastic tins I got, and then all my efforts will be complete!! There will probably be leftover cookies, too, so I might enjoy some of those today as well. :D

My parents and I also sat down yesterday and got pretty much all the gifts wrapped and put under the tree! So we are pretty much ready for Xmas!! My brother and SIL and Dearest Nephew are coming up tomorrow afternoon, and it's gonna be a good time!! :D

Days Written (This Week): 1 day
Days Written (This Month): 1 day
Days Written (2025 Total): 132 days

Words Written (This Week): 570 words
Words Written (This Month): 570 words
Words Written (2025 Total): 66,659 words

First Line (Written This Week): (This is a sketch from my Beauty and the Beast retelling.) She doesn't know what else to do, except call the police, and even she knows they're probably busy with actual emergencies tonight.

Last Line (Written This Week): (Different sketch from same BatB retelling.) There was no one here, except the Beast, and there was hardly anything fey or magical about him, other than his appearance. And land couldn't hold magic in like this, not by itself.

Favorite Line (Written This Week): (A sketch from TRON fic prequel-to-The-Outpost thing.) He keeps walking. He's fortunate enough to find the occasional energy spring, and more fortunate still that the weather stays clear, for there is no shelter on these vast plains.

As he walks, he is achingly aware of how alone he is. There's no one to talk to, no one to hear him speak, so he stays silent.

Other Stuff: I wrote actual prose this week! Which is something I am trying to see as a positive, because this week has really been a struggle for me in a variety of other ways. My sleep's been a little screwed up, for one thing, and I think I'm still trying to recover from the endless hustle of getting through Thanksgiving? I have been so tired this week, and that seems like the only reasonable explanation.

I managed to sit down on Thursday and write some sketches, though! So that's good! I think my issue right now is that my enthusiasm for working on a particular story has kind of evaporated (hence the sketches), and I'm just not sure what to do with myself for the rest of the year. I always have a big burst of creative energy when the new year starts, and it's like I'm stuck in Anticipation Mode, waiting for it to be "acceptable" to really buckle down and work on a specific story. This is deeply annoying, and probably something I should work on getting around.

Hoping, as usual, to write at least 1 day this week. I've only got 3 days left to write to hit my modified year-end goal of 135 days. I'm pretty sure I'll at least be able to manage that, though I'd like to write 1 or 2 days more if I can manage it. I'm still not sure what project to work on, though with January coming up, I probably need to start poking at The Outpost again. (I update it every year in January, and I've reached the point where I'm basically out of buffer--this past January I posted the first scene of the next chapter, because said chapter still isn't done. If nothing else, I need to get the next scene polished and ready, but I'd really like to start making forward progress on it again. :///)

Anyway. Here's to a better (or at least somewhat good) week!

American Thanksgiving was yesterday. I had a nice time with my family; played a board game with my brother and SIL; hung out with my nephew a little; everyone enjoyed my pumpkin pie who tried it; and at the end of the day I was so exhausted I could have fallen asleep at 7:30pm and been very happy.

More details on that later, but first: the Pie-Making.

I always make the pumpkin pie on Wednesday, so it has time to cool and everything before Thanksgiving. I was using the pumpkin pie recipe I tried out earlier this month [link], and everything was going swimmingly, except that I forgot to melt the 2 Tablespoons of butter I needed to add in the last phase of making the filling. So I melted the butter in the microwave really quick (and kind of overheated it, because the microwave's Melt Butter setting only works in terms of 1 or 2 sticks of butter--and a stick is 8 Tablespoons of butter!). And then, without thinking, I added the hot butter to the filling mixture.

The filling, at this point, contained one very well beaten in egg. I added the hot butter, and there was a... smell. A kind of... eggy smell. And then as I continued with the recipe, adding the milk to the filling mixture, I noticed little... particles, clinging to the sides of the bowl.

I had scrambled the egg.

A desperate part of me said, "You don't know that the pie is ruined!! It might be, but you'll only know if you bake it!!" So I baked the pie, but I was pretty damn sure I'd ruined it, in texture if not in taste. And the graham cracker crust I used was the only one I had.

Which meant I had to go to the grocery store.

In the middle of the afternoon.

On the day.

before.

Thanksgiving.

I put the probably-ruined pie in the oven, and cleaned up a little, and then headed to the store. It was, predictably, a madhouse, but I was only there for one thing (well, two things; I bought a little bag of Lindt white chocolate peppermint truffles because I was Going Through It and I needed a Little Treat, goddammit), so I got in and out pretty quickly. I think it helped that I went at about 1:30pm, which was well before anyone would be getting off work for the day.

Anyway, I got home. Took a little fifteen minute break for my sanity. After that, I had to wash pretty much every measuring cup and mixing bowl I had used by hand, so I could go about making the second pie. I took another little break, because lord knows I needed it, and in the meantime, the first pie finished up in the oven.

It did not puff up like my test run pie did earlier in the month; there were a few little bubbles, but nothing more than that. I let it cool for a little while, then took a spoon and scooped out a little bit of the filling as delicately as I could (so... not very delicately at all). The filling tasted fine, and while the mouth-feel texture was more or less okay, the visual texture was weirdly grainy, and nothing like the smoothness I'd seen in the test run pie.

This made me feel better about my decision to make another pie, and I commenced with that immediately.

(The second time, I melted the butter first.)

Things went much better the second time around: I didn't scramble the egg, for one thing. I made sure to scrape the bottom of my stand mixer bowl halfway through adding the milk (Attempt #1 had a clump of the pre-milk filling mixture glommed onto the bottom where the whisk couldn't reach). The pie puffed up in the oven just like the test run pie had! I did know how to bake a pie!!

The ultimate vindication, however, came that evening, when Mom and Dad both decided to have a slice of the Attempt #1 pie. I went to cut the pie--and the filling stuck to the knife, coming up out of the pie in big, grainy-looking clumps. The test run pie hadn't done that; I was right that the scrambled egg had messed things up.

(I was even more vindicated Thanksgiving night, when I sliced the Attempt #2 pie and none of the filling stuck to the knife.)

(Thanks for reading!!)

In my previous entry [link], I mentioned that I made six different little crochet mushroom guys over the last few weeks. I said I would post some photos soon, and here is that post!!

Photos behind here!!

ID: A crochet mushroom (Mushroom #1) sits on a purple patterned desk mat. The mushroom has a tan body and small nubbin feet, but no arms, as well as a dark brown lobed cap that resembles a morel mushroom. Its eyes are small and black and sit a few rows below where the cap begins. END ID


ID: Two crochet mushrooms (Mushroom #2 and Mushroom #3) sit together on a purple patterned desk mat. The mushroom on the left has a tan body and a large chartreuse cap that is tipped back so its face is visible. It has two nubbin feet and two small arms, and its eyes are small and black, positioned a few rows below the cap. The top of its cap is not visible, but the underside shows gills in tan, and a ring of chartreuse where the cap flares out. The mushroom on the right is smaller, with an off-white body and nubbin arms and feet. It has a tall, rounded cap that is purple in two different shades--one very light shade and one medium shade. The mushroom's eyes are small and black, and sit just below where its cap begins. END ID

\
ID: A crochet mushroom (Mushroom #4) sits on a purple patterned desk mat. Its body is off-white, and it has two large feet that stick out straight from its body, as well as two small arms. It has small black eyes that sit a few rows below its cap, which is a confetti of rainbow colors. The cap of the mushroom is tall, flaring up in a bell shape before it narrows and forms a crooked hook shape. END ID


ID: A crochet mushroom (Mushroom #5) sits on a purple patterned desk mat. Its body is off white, and it has two nubbin feet and no arms at all. Its eyes are small and black, and positioned several rows below where its cap begins. The cap of the mushroom is three different shades of purple--a light purple, a medium purple, and a very dark purple--and its shape resembles a crooked witch's hat. The cap begins at the bottom as a cone shape, and as it narrows, it switches back and forth a couple of times before ending in a narrow point. END ID


ID: A crochet mushroom (Mushroom #6) sits on a purple patterned desk mat. Its body is bright white, with small nubbin feet and two long arms that hang down to its feet. It has small, black eyes that are positioned several rows below where its cap begins. The mushroom's cap is a wide dome, colored red with bright white spots scattered across it. The cap is tipped back a little to reveal the mushroom's face. END ID


ID: The six different crochet mushrooms sit on a purple patterned desk mat. The front row has Mushroom #3 (small purple cap). The back row, from left to right: Mushroom #1 (morel); Mushroom #4 (rainbow cap); Mushroom #5 (tall purple cap); Mushroom #2 (wide chartreuse cap); and Mushroom #6 (red and white dotted cap). END ID

All the mushrooms were made from patterns by Megan Lapp, aka Crafty Intentions. Hope you all like them!! :D

Or maybe more accurately, the problems (emphasis on the 's' there). I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about the teaser trailer for Ares (watchable here [link]), and all the little things it implies that the film will be about, but my primary issue is this: so far, all it is, is "cool". I know it's just a teaser, and that its primary function is to tease what's to come, but still.

If you watch the teaser for TRON: Legacy (watchable here on a Disney site [link], though it might not be viewable outside the US, sorry!!), there are more hints there of story and character elements than we get in the Ares teaser. The Legacy trailer gives us a semblance of a story--Kevin Flynn is missing, and his son Sam must find him in the digital world--and a little bit of character to Sam, who is clearly jaded and somewhat adrift in his life. There's at least something there to emotionally connect with, a reason to care about the film outside of its flashy digital effects.

In comparison, the only character I felt connected to in the Ares trailer was Greta Lee's character, and her few shots just show her staring in fear and running away. The voice-over dialogue from Leto's Ares and Jeff Bridges' cameo as Kevin Flynn is scant and lacks context. There's no reason to care about what they say, because we don't even know what they're talking about. The visual effects are pretty cool, but that's about the only thing the teaser offers as a reason to see this film. It's all style and no substance, and that makes me worry that the whole film is going to be the same way.

The only real story element the teaser introduces is "programs are invading the real world", which itself implies that programs want to invade reality. It portrays programs as a mindless invading force, which is a far cry how they have been portrayed in the previous films.

(On that note, I want to mention this: some of the casting announcements for Ares early on included a mini-synopsis that talked about Leto's Ares character being a "sentient program", which is utterly baffling for anyone familiar with the franchise. I will note that said mini-synopsis has apparently vanished from all those casting announcements, but I distinctly remember it being there, and I wonder if Disney made Variety, et al, remove it from their articles because it revealed too much about the film.)

Every piece of TRON media up to this point has portrayed all programs as sentient, all the way back to the original 1982 film. In TRON, Sark expresses doubts about the MCP's plans; Tron grieves the loss of Ram and Flynn; in a deleted scene, Yori has a secret apartment that she's decorated herself. Legacy and the animated series Uprising do the same thing--Zuse in Legacy goes from helping Isos to collaborating with Clu, and every character in Uprising is portrayed as a full person with their own thoughts and motivations. On the other hand, this initial teaser for Ares seems quite content to portray programs as mindless bad guys. There isn't a single program shown without red circuitry, which has been used as a shorthand for the antagonists in TRON stories ever since the '82 film, not to mention the color's villainous connotations in countless other properties.

Another worrying aspect of this teaser for me is the implication that this film will be entirely set in the real world. Everything we see is apparently set in our ordinary reality. While that's not necessarily a bad thing, it makes me feel like the writers and or the studio have completely missed the point of the whole franchise.

The point of TRON as a universe is that the Computer World, while dangerous, contains a multitude of possibilities. The Computer World is both beautiful and strange, offering a view of things like nothing on Earth. The programs that populate it are beings with their own lives, with beliefs and desires and feelings and friendships just like humans have. And it seems to me that Ares is rejecting that idea completely in favor of a tired story about the dangers of technology and "artificial" "intelligence." Which is truly the opposite of what TRON is actually about.

And I'm aware that we don't know the actual story of Ares yet--as I said, the teaser offered hardly any hint of it--but from what little info has come out, the "technology wants to invade and or supplant us" story seems like a distinct possibility. There might be a dash of a Pinocchio-type story as well--a program (Leto) "develops" "sentience" and "becomes" a "person" (scare quotes here because programs are already sentient)--but that's just a guess on my part right now.

Those are the main issues I have with Ares right now. I have wanted a TRON 3 since Legacy came out, but I've been increasingly nervous about Ares ever since it was announced. The casting of Jared Leto has not inspired confidence in me, nor has the passing-over of Bruce Boxleitner for a cameo as Tron or Alan Bradley. I want to be excited about this film--there are going to be like four female characters! two composers I like are doing the soundtrack!--but there is just too much that's keeping me on the side of trepidation. And I'm very worried I might actually be right about some of this.

Title: Caught Between the Sea and the Stars
Author: skye_writer
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 4,543 words
Summary: Ana spends an evening on the waves with her mermaid friend, Shae.
Notes: Written for getyourwordsout 's Build-A-Bingo challenge (prompt: "heatwave"). These characters are from my (currently unwritten) Little Mermaid Retelling. I hope you enjoy.

August has settled in the seaside town...

August has settled in the seaside town like a heavy winter coat. The thick, humid air sticks to people, drawing out sweat but offering no relief from it; what little wind comes off the ocean is not enough to keep anyone cool. Those who can afford personal breeze charms buy them in droves, never mind if the charm-maker is taking their cash in exchange for something that will work for two hours at most. The sky remains cheerfully blue all day, the few clouds far too thin and wispy to offer any respite from the sun. Even as the sunset paints the sky brilliant shades of orange and red, heat continues to rise off the pavement, turning the town into a slowly cooling oven. Tourists and locals alike make for the boardwalk and the pier, where proximity to the ocean offers at least a little respite.

Ana shoulders her way through the boardwalk crowds with practiced ease, her wavy hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. The crowd thins considerably at the access to the pier, and she continues on until she reaches the public docks, where the few people are boat owners, all of whom know Ana by sight. She nods at those who greet her, and continues down the docks to her destination.

She’s spent all day at her job on a whale-watching boat, keeping tourists from leaning too far over the side rail and offering food to the seagulls. It’s thankless work, especially on a day like today, but she survived. She’s been looking forward to tonight. As she walks down the farthest-out dock, she touches a jagged shard of sea glass that hangs around her neck on a carefully-made chain.

Anyone with a talent for seeing thaumic energies would know at once what was hanging around Ana’s neck: a charm imbued not with human magic, but with the esoteric magic of the seas. Said person might draw any number of conclusions about Ana with that information, but the truth is simple enough: Ana has a best friend, and that friend is a mermaid.

Ana reaches the end of the last dock, where a barnacle-crusted ladder hangs down a few feet into the water. With one hand still on the sea glass charm, she kneels and knocks on the last plank of the dock five times.

A few moments later, the water bubbles loudly, and Ana peers down just as a pale face framed by yellow hair and iridescent scales pops above the surface.

The mermaid smiles carefully when her sea-green eyes meet Ana’s, and Ana grins back. Around her neck she wears a necklace that is the twin to Ana’s, the sea glass the same color, and jagged in a way that suggests the two pieces would fit together. She puts a webbed hand on the lowest visible rung of the ladder, and says, “I thought you were going to be late.”

“Good to see you, too, Shae,” Ana replies, laughing. “Look, it’s been a long day, all right?”

Shae laughs. “I wasn’t going to argue the point! I gathered as much from your message. Are you ready to swim?”

“Oh, I’ve been ready all day.” Ana stands and peels off her work shirt, then unties the strings down the side of her skirt, revealing her bathing suit underneath. She kicks off her sandals, then folds her clothes and lays them neatly on the edge of the dock, her sandals beneath them. “I had to stay in the ticket office the last half of my shift, which would have been fine if the AC hadn’t broken the other day. It’s been so hot here lately, it’s ridiculous.”

“Well, the ocean’s always cooler,” Shae says.

“That, my friend, is what I’m counting on.” She starts down the ladder, and Shae swims aside to give her room. As her legs and then her torso enter the water, Ana sighs in relief. “God, that feels good. And it’s better farther out, right?”

“As always,” Shae assures her. As Ana lets go of the ladder, Shae offers her hand, and Ana takes it. “Let’s swim?”

“Let’s,” Ana agrees.

And without another word, Shae tugs her away from the dock, and together they set out for deeper waters.

---

Their destination this evening, like many other evenings, is the boundary stone, a lonely rock that juts out of the ocean about ten yards north-northeast of the town’s main pier. The stone is avoided by seabirds despite its closeness to the shore, for it serves as a magical anchor of sorts. The local merfolk village and the thaumic studies department of the local college use the stone as a boundary marker. It defines the influence of their opposing magics, and anchors that separation in earth and sea. As far as Shae and Ana are concerned, though, it’s a perfect place for a human girl and her mermaid friend to enjoy each other’s company.

As the sun makes its way to the horizon, Shae and Ana talk about their time apart. It’s been four days since they last saw each other, which seems like an eternity. Ana complains a little about her job, and Shae listens and makes comments here and there. Ana alternates between treading water beside Shae, and sitting up on the rock, her feet in the water. Shae stays in the water; they’re not so far from the pier that they can’t be seen, and sightings of merfolk always tend to draw curious eyes.

Eventually, the sun sets beyond the horizon, and the ruddy sky darkens to a bluish gray. The stars are starting to appear, slightly drowned out by the proximity of the town and its lights. The brightest of them are peeking out, though, looking down on Shae and Ana as they float near the boundary stone.

Shae steals a glance at Ana, admiring her dark profile in the dying light. They have been friends since they were children, when Shae saved Ana from a riptide, and the human news channel did a story about it. They practically grew up together, and for all that they are from utterly different worlds, Shae has loved her as a sister for all that time.

But it’s only in the last year that Shae has realized that her affection has become coupled with attraction. She loves Ana, yes, but those feelings have grown more complicated, more like the romantic love that humans can never seem to speak about directly. For all that it is impossible, Shae loves her.

(It is not impossible; that is perhaps the wrong word. There are ways for merfolk to assume human form, and possibly vice versa, but Shae does not know them yet. It is advanced magic, much more advanced than the magic she is currently learning from her village shaman. And so it might as well be impossible.)

Shae has not told Ana about this. She has barely told anyone at all. (Trishkel the shaman knows, and has told her she is acting exceedingly human about this, which Shae cannot deny.) She’s afraid. She doesn’t want to lose Ana as a friend if her feelings aren’t returned. And even if Ana did love her in the same way, Shae does not want her friend forced to choose between two worlds, when one contains the only family Ana has left.

And so she says nothing, and admires Ana in spare moments, when she will not be noticed.

“I wish we could see more stars out here,” Ana says quietly. Below the surface, her hand brushes Shae’s, and Shae takes it.

“Me, too.” Shae squeezes her hand, and Ana squeezes back. “They’re more visible out by the village, but…”

“It’s too dangerous for me to swim that far from shore, I know.” She sighs a sigh Shae knows well; this is a discussion they’ve had far too many times.

“Yes,” Shae says.

They float silently for a few moments, then Ana says, “Maybe I should save up and buy a kayak or something. I could paddle out to the village and we could stargaze out there.”

Shae smiles, though she knows Ana can’t see it. “That sounds nice.”

More silence. Shae glances at Ana again. Her profile is backlit by the lights on the shore, a slightly scattered silhouette. The long, perfect slope of her nose drops off like a cliff, and the full curves of her lips look like gentle waves below that height. She’s lovely, Shae thinks. As always, she’s lovely.

She squeezes Ana’s hand again, and returns her gaze to the sky.

“Did I tell you about that time I saw all the stars?” Ana asks.

It isn’t really a question, because Ana has told this story before, but Shae replies, “I can’t remember. Tell it again and refresh my memory.”

So Ana begins her tale, talking about driving cross-country with her parents and her brother, about being twelve years old and bored by the endless plains outside her window. The second day of the trip saw them through the desert. Her father kept driving into the night, and Ana couldn’t sleep. Finally, close to midnight, her father pulled off the interstate, parking the car in a dirt turnoff close to the highway’s entrance.

Her brother and mother were both asleep, but Ana asked quietly why her father had stopped. “I need to look at something else for a few minutes,” he said. “Why don’t we step outside and look together.”

They were in the middle of the desert, far, far away from any human towns or even a fueling station. Ana followed her father out of the car and joined him to lean against the back bumper. The redness of the taillights rendered the shadows deep and flat on her father’s face. He smiled at her, and pointed up. “Take a look.”

Ana looked, and she gasped.

The sky was full of stars. The cloudy line of the galaxy towered up from the horizon, giving the sky depth and distance like she had never seen back home.

“I saw every star,” Ana says. “And all the planets, too. There were so many of them, the sky could barely hold them all. And—Daddy put his arm around my shoulder, and he held me, and we looked at the stars until his eyes could see the road again.” Her voice is thick, the words wobbly, and Shae knows without looking that Ana’s eyes are full of tears.

She lets go of Ana’s hand, and puts her arm loosely around Ana’s shoulders. “Hey,” she says, “I’m here, all right? I’m—I’m here.”

Ana squeezes her eyes shut, her breaths long and shaky. Shae sees her look up, her eyes blinking rapidly, trying, Shae knows, to dispel her tears. “It’s been three years,” she whispers. “Three years, and—and I still miss them, and it hurts, and—why does it still hurt so much?”

“Because they were your parents,” Shae answers. “Because you loved them, and you still love them. And missing people when they’re gone is… what happens.”

“I know.” Ana sniffles, and reaches one hand up to wipe her nose and rub at her eyes. “I know.” For a moment, she leans into Shae’s shoulder, and Shae dares to pull her a little closer. But then she mutters, “Dammit,” and pulls out of the embrace, moving to climb out of the water, back onto the boundary stone that marks the division between their worlds.

Shae folds her arms on the rock beside her, and looks up at her friend. “You all right?”

Ana tucks her legs against her chest, propping her chin on her knees, but says nothing.

“Thank you for telling me that story again, by the way,” Shae says. “It gets better every time I hear it.”

Ana turns her head to meet Shae’s eyes. “Yeah?”

Shae smiles. “Yeah. I know I tell you this a lot, but you’re a magnificent storyteller. The way you make a place like a desert feel alive to me, it’s just… magical, almost.”

Ana snorts, but Shae can see the beginnings of a smile on her face. “You do say that a lot. I’d almost say you were trying to flatter me, but… I know you better than that. You always tell me the truth.”

Shae’s heart quickens, and she feels a wave of heat flow from her chest to her face. She’s grateful at once that’s it’s too dark for Ana to see her clearly; she’d recognize a blush in an instant, and Shae doesn’t want to explain why she’s blushing at all. She manages to keep her eyes on Ana’s face. “I just—tell the truth as I see it,” she says. Her voice wavers a little, but she covers it by clearing her throat. “At least, that’s what Trishkel is trying to teach me. To read the truth from the currents and the stars.”

Ana smiles, her teeth glinting in the semi-dark. “How is shaman training going? I forgot to ask earlier.”

“It’s… complicated,” Shae replies. “It’s magic, which is never simple, and ritual, which is always boring. Trishkel seems pleased with my progress, at least.” She shrugs.

“Well, I’m glad it’s going okay,” Ana says, amusement in her voice. “You always say that magic is complicated, but…” She reaches up to touch the sea glass at her throat. “I’m glad these things still work. You must’ve done a really good job with them.”

Shae touches her own sea glass shard. “Thank you. Trishkel says that they’re… feeding off the force of our friendship a little? Relationships are their own kind of magic, he says, and because I made them to connect us, the more we feel connected, the more they connect. Like, the charm stays alive because we feel connected. If—that makes any sense.”

Ana shakes her head slowly, still smiling. “Not really? But they work, right? And it’s a hell of a lot easier than what we used to do.”

“Oh, yes,” Shae agrees, laughing a little. “Much better than sending our parents to and fro as messengers.”

“Yeah.”

Silence stretches between them, more a natural lull in the conversation than the result of awkwardness. Eventually, Ana uncurls her legs, letting her feet dangle in the water as she leans back to look at the sky again, bracing herself with her hands. Shae follows her gaze for a few minutes, before letting her eyes drift down to Ana’s face, and then, to Ana’s hand on the rock in front of her.

She wants to reach out and put her hand on top of Ana’s, but she tamps down on the urge almost at once. It’s not a good idea, she thinks firmly. It’s not. Yes, they hold hands fairly frequently when they’re in the water together, but that’s more a habit of safety than of affection. It’s different from what she’s contemplating now. If she takes Ana’s hand now, after they’ve shared memories and had a heart to heart, it would be too intimate. Too much, too soon. Too terrifying to continue thinking about.

Shae knows (or fears, or worries about) what would happen if she took Ana’s hand. She might have to explain herself, and in doing so, her secret would be revealed, and Ana might reject her, and their friendship would be changed forever, and not happily so. Better to stay silent, she tells herself. Better to do nothing.

She feels another wave of heat flush her chest and face, and she turns her head to lay on her folded arms and hide her expression. No need to worry her friend. No need to say anything more.

She curls her hands into fists, and does not move but for the waves bobbing her gently up and down.

---

Ana is laying on the rock now, her eyes fixed on the sky above, when Shae says quietly, “It’s getting late.”

Ana sighs. “I know.” Without looking, she reaches one hand out, and finds one of Shae’s cool and slightly clammy hands. She doesn’t need to say anything more; Shae opens her hand from a fist and closes it around Ana’s. “I wish I could stay out here forever, sometimes.”

“I know,” Shae replies.

Ana squeezes Shae’s hand; Shae squeezes back.

“Is your brother—?” Shae begins, then corrects herself. “I’m sorry. Do you still have curfew to worry about, or has he… changed his mind?” Ana can hear the undercurrent of scorn in her friend’s voice; Shae’s opinion of Danny has only fallen lower since her parents’ deaths.

“He hasn’t.” Ana sighs again, then lets go of Shae’s hand and levers herself into a sitting position. “I don’t know why he thinks I need a curfew anymore. I’ve been eighteen for six months, I know how to be responsible.”

She sees Shae frowning in the corner of her eye. “I know you do,” she says. “He’s just—” She stops herself, shaking her head. “Never mind.”

“I’m not even working tomorrow,” Ana grumbles, ignoring Shae’s near-outburst. “He just doesn’t seem to trust me. I mean, I know he worries, but still.” She shakes her head. “Let’s head back.”

“All right.” Shae holds up one hand, which Ana takes as she eases herself back into the water. The ocean is still refreshingly cool, and as she positions herself next to Shae, she wishes again that she could stay here forever. Maybe not in the ocean, but… with her friend, with the one person who understands her and likes her for who she is.

With a few muttered words and a flick of her wrist, Shae summons a golden bauble of light above them, so Ana can keep track of her on the way back to the docks. She smiles at Ana, and then they start to swim, alongside each other so closely that Ana’s legs and Shae’s tail brush off each other every few dozen strokes.

They’ve made this trek together dozens of times, so often that Ana can keep an eye on Shae almost on autopilot. She lets her mind wander a little as she falls into the rhythm of her stroke, and she thinks, not for the first time this summer, about what she wants.

Her first thought is an impulsive one: she wants to spend more time with Shae. But that’s almost impossible, and not just because of her land-bound obligations. They’re from two different worlds. Neither could survive in the other’s world, not without the help of powerful magic that Ana knows nothing about and Shae only knows of a little. They can only meet at the boundary of their worlds, in between each one but not fully in it.

Besides that, Ana has the weight of others’ expectations to worry about as well. Many of her friends from school have already moved away, headed off to universities to continue their studies. Ana has thought about taking courses at the local college, but she hasn’t been entirely sure of that, either. It doesn’t help that her inheritance money has been tangled up in some kind of problem at the bank; Danny has told her he’s working on it, but he hasn’t made much progress in the last six months. That’s part of the reason why she has the whale boat job, because Danny told her she had to support herself while he figured things out with the bank.

Not that getting the whale boat job has made Danny stop haranguing her, or stopped him from telling their various aunts and uncles around the country that he’s “worried” about Ana’s future. Though to be honest, Ana is also worrying about her future a little bit. What she wants and what she’s capable of doing aren’t adding up into anything she feels could be useful (never mind what Danny thinks is useful). She wants to stay here, where Shae is, but it’s becoming clear that opportunities in this seaside town are few and far between. And while a good word from the merfolk doesn’t go amiss in certain professions (it helped Ana land the job on the whale boat), it wouldn’t help her get a job she could make a career of, not unless she wanted to go into something like marine biology.

That is what concerns Danny the most: having a career. And Ana still doesn’t have the slightest idea what she could do to make her living. As much as Shae (and even her human friends) compliments her on her storytelling ability, it’s not exactly a skill Ana can parlay into a paying job. Which leaves her back on square one, stuck between the things she wants and the things everyone else expects her to want.

As they near the docks, Ana pulls her focus back to her surroundings. Shae leads the way, keeping her pace slow to let Ana cool down a little. But all too soon, they reach the little dock where Ana left her clothes. Ana catches the ladder with one hand, rising out of the water a little as she places a foot on the lowest rung beneath the surface. “Goodbye for now?” she says, turning to Shae.

Shae’s face shines in the golden glow of her conjured light, the scales on her face and shoulders glittering brightly. “Goodbye for now,” she repeats. She looks how she always looks when they have to leave each other—a little sad, maybe a little forlorn.

Ana tries to smile, to be reassuring, but it doesn’t feel like a good effort. Her thoughts from the swim are still hanging heavy over her, and Ana is certain it’s written all over her face. Shae’s expression doesn’t change, but of course it doesn’t; they know each other better than anyone else, and Shae can often read her like an open book.

“I—I’ll let you know when I have another evening free,” Ana says, shrugging awkwardly. “It’ll probably be a few days from now, you know how Danny gets sometimes…”

Shae nods. “I do. Let me know when you want to meet. And… talk to me in the meantime?” She touches the shard of sea glass at her throat. “I like talking to you, you know.”

“I—me, too.”

Shae is about to turn away. Ana can see it, in her body language and expression. She’s going to turn away, and they’re both going to feel a little sour as they head home. And so Ana does the first thing that comes to mind: she lets go of the ladder and hops back into the water, then catches Shae around the shoulders and hugs her. Shae doesn’t react for a moment, but then her arms close around Ana’s waist, and they just float there, clinging to each other.

Ana wishes again that she could stay with her friend, just for a little while longer. But she has other obligations, and she knows Danny is waiting. For a second, she hugs Shae tighter, and Shae responds in kind. Then, Ana slowly disentangles her arms from Shae’s hair and pulls away, catching onto the ladder again. Shae’s embrace loosens, but she doesn’t let go until Ana says quietly, “I’ve gotta go.”

Shae’s arms drop away, and she drifts away slightly in the water. For half a moment, Ana sees her expression—all sorrow, like she’s about to cry (even though merfolk don’t cry like humans do)—and then Shae puts a hand over her face, and the magical light goes out, and Ana looks away, her face heating with embarrassment.

“Sorry,” she says, climbing up the ladder quickly and clambering onto the dock. “I—sorry. I’ll see you soon?”

Shae looks up at her, her face partly in shadow, despite the electric light that hangs over this end of the dock. The sadness is gone from her face, and she smiles slightly. “See you soon,” she repeats. And then she swims out of the halo of light at the dock’s edge, and a moment later dips below the water’s surface, gone into the night.

Ana sits with her legs dangling over the side of the dock for a couple of minutes, hoping the slight breeze will dry her skin before she puts her clothes back on. She always feels bereft after Shae leaves her, but tonight feels worse for some reason. She wishes that she hadn’t hugged her after all, but only for a moment. They don’t hug as much as they did when they were younger. As she considers this, Ana realizes that she’s missed the hugs, the feeling of her friend’s arms around her, and the affection they both shared so easily when they were children.

Maybe Shae misses it, too, she thinks, then sighs. Or maybe you’re just being sentimental. She shakes her head, then uses the lamppost to climb to her feet. She needs to get home, and she won’t have any idea of the time until she gets back to the boardwalk, where the clock tower on the arcade keeps time. Hopefully it isn’t too late, or Danny will bite her head off the moment she’s through the front door.

She slips on her sandals and ties her skirt back around her waist, then throws her t-shirt over her shoulder instead of putting it on. She walks up the dock and back towards the rest of town, trying not to think about Shae’s reluctance to let go, or the expression on her face when she floated away. Shae cares about her, that’s all. She cares about Shae, too, and that’s fine, isn’t it? They’re friends, and friends are supposed to care about each other.

Ana wishes she could do more than just idly wishing to spend more time with Shae. That she could say more of what she means, instead of bottling things up. Sometimes it feels like there’s a chasm between them now, some insurmountable distance that keeps them both from saying what they really want to say. Ana loves Shae more than any other friend, and occasionally (when they’re being particularly smothering) more than her own family. Maybe—maybe she doesn’t love Shae like that, but—a lot. But saying that out loud, even thinking it, seems like too much. Like if Ana said it, it would break something between them.

And anyway, Shae knows that Ana cares about her, that Ana loves her. What would be the point in saying it out loud?

Because then she’d know, Ana thinks immediately. And I don’t know what will happen after that.

And just what does that mean? Ana shakes her head, throwing the thought away before she starts overthinking it. It doesn’t mean anything. Shae misses her when they’re apart, just like Ana misses her in turn. They’re friends; friends miss each other when they’re not together. It’s normal. It’s totally normal, and there is nothing wrong about it.

Ana exits the docks to find that the day’s heat is still rising up from the pavement. She sighs again, and as she makes her way to the boardwalk, she starts to sweat, the slight ocean breeze no longer enough to dry her out or even keep her cool. The heatwave hasn’t broken yet, and she grumbles about the weather the whole walk home, not daring to think about anything else.

The second episode of this season's double premiere, "The Devil's Chord" follows the Doctor and Ruby Sunday to 1963 as they go to watch the Beatles record their first album. But something has gone wrong with music, and the pair soon find themselves in a fight for the universe against the mysterious Maestro.

( SPOILERS ABOUND, as usual. )

Words (Written Today): 291

Words (Total as of Today): 17,059

Mood: Decent, but also tired.

Treat: Gonna watch some Doctor Who or read some Murderbot (again).

First Line (Written Today): As the third week of training drew to a close, Tron was impressed by Flynn and Crom both.

Last Line (Written Today): Tron didn’t know what it could mean, only that it was significant.

Favorite Line (Written Today): As he went over the last few weeks in his mind, Tron could not help but be unnerved by the strange coincidences that had led to all this, all the strangeness that surrounded Flynn and his appearance here.

Other Stuff: So this is the end... at least for this current writing soiree. 30 days in a row is pretty dang impressive, right? Right. (And technically it's 34 days if you count the writing I did at the end of October.) I wrote 17k on a new story idea, and I like what I've been writing so far. I don't know if I'll continue with this story into next month; I have another TRON fic I need to update in January that I probably ought to be cycling back to before that time comes. But I think, by and large, I am going to be taking December off. I need a freaking break. Sheesh. I am proud of what I have accomplished this month, but I need to rest. Like, a lot. Ugh.

Words (Written Today): 247

Words (Total as of Today): 16,401

Mood: Tired. As usual. (UGH.)

Treat: reading some more Murderbot.

First Line (Written Today): He looked down, his expression utterly dejected.

Last Line (Written Today): Flynn already knew his way around the longsword, it seemed, and there wasn’t much left to teach him besides the basics of the other major weapons.

Favorite Line (Written Today): [Crom] tried to smile as he looked up at them. “I’ll figure out something. It’s—it’s fine.”

“No, it’s—” Tron began, but Flynn was quicker.

“No,” he said fiercely. “It’s not fine, and you shouldn’t have to walk into the Games blindfolded because your sponsors couldn’t be bothered to help.”

Other Stuff: Another 15 minute writing session last night. (Backdating again...) Not too bad for that amount of time, but I can feel that I am on my last legs, writing-wise, for this month. I've got two more days to go to get that 30 day update badge, and then I can freaking REST. And that'll be NICE. But for now... slouching ever onward.