#320 words

[thenicestthingiveseen]

prompt 26: fear

gender au/the weasleys only had boys/fred is still dead (im sorry if that sounded harsh)/ post war [320 words]

written for @hinnymicrofic

The papers had called her fearless, which was laughable because she was Undesirable Number One only weeks ago. She was their savior – a beacon of light finally shining brightly after years of darkness and uncertainty. 

But if she was being honest, the moment Tom’s body hit the ground was the moment the fear set in. 

She hadn’t felt it right away. No, not with her body and mind operating on autopilot in the immediate aftermath of the battle. Which, Hermione would later say was her body’s survival instincts continuing to protect her from the acute stress of everything she experienced – truly the brightest witch of her age. 

When she was thirteen and faced a boggart for the first time, everyone assumed her greatest fear would be Voldemort. It was Dementors. 

When she was fifteen, she saw one of her greatest fears happen before her very eyes when Sirius went beyond the veil and she lost what she believed to be her only chance at a real family.

When she was seventeen, her biggest fear changed a lot. At first, it was fear of the unknown. What exactly did Dumbledore expect three barely-of-age teens to do to take down the darkest wizard in history? Then, it was the chance they could be caught by snatchers and turned into Voldemort. 

But today, standing on the first-floor landing of the Burrow, her biggest fear is staring at her with deep brown eyes and an empty expression.

She has no idea what to say to him, how to begin again. And she’s afraid. 

She’s afraid that they can’t start over. That she was gone too long, that her fake death was too much to bear, that Fred’s real death is too much. She’s afraid that he doesn’t love her anymore.

But then, he pulls her into a hug so bone-crushing it rivals his mother’s and pulls her into his room before shutting the door. 

[anhphn]

Technology in Tourism

There is no doubt that technology plays an important role in tourism and travel. Technology allows the travel industry to reac h more people than it ever has before, and as a result, travellers are younger, better informed, and more tech savvy. Technology has forced the travel industry not only to step into the 21st century, but to embrace it wholeheartedly. In the past few years, we have been seeing rising trends of homestay travelling where hosts accommodate guest with short-term lodging and tourism-related activities. In-flight wifi has become very popular in recent years to meet the needs of customers. Being able to access to the internet at 35,000ft allows those who need to catch connecting flight to get important information such as gates changes, flight delays, or cancellations that happen as they are en route. Most airlines now offer mobile boarding in order to cut down the long lines often seen at airports. These passes can be sent directly to your smartphone from a secure web server, and can easily be scanned by the gate agent as you board the plane. This means no more waiting on printers, no more standing in a separate line just to be issued a boarding pass, and a much quicker boarding procedure for the flight itself. Customers have been able to make use of online booking sites for quite some time, but the interfaces have become much more user-friendly, not to mention a lot faster. Many airlines strive to make their booking sites a one-stop shop where customers can make changes easily. The travel industry has successfully been able to incorporate technology into their strategies for many years as it brings many advantages toward the customers and the company it. Travel has been made easier with advanced technology. 

#tourism#tech#future#freedom

[asheewrites]

Evening Troubles

„Good evening, how can I help you… today?”

His voice really did a bit of a trick t calm one’s mind. A little reassuring, that.

“Good evening, Mr. Matthews… a sweet usual, please,” I said and settled in front of the bar.

He nodded and I watched him mix me a honeyed whiskey: “Well, Miss Stewart, it’s been some time since your last visit, I hope everything is in order?”

“… it sure is. But you know how it is, some… conversations are always hard. At some point in the relationship,” I sighed. He knew all about it, after all. Chatty as I had been.

“Mmmmmh,” his bass voice hummed, “… there are different conversations you could have, aren’t there?”

A smile tugged at my lips and I pulled some hair behind my ear: “… I wouldn’t… there are some things no human should know…”

There was a sidelong glance, but he nodded. And hummed again, then, placing the tumbler in front of me: “Enjoy, please”

I took a sip and let the liquid swirl in the glass, staring down at it. Almost golden.

“Adoption is always an option, you are aware?”

My head jerked up. He only stood there and polished a glass. Well, of course he would know.

“I suppose it is,” I took another sip.

There was a heavy sigh and sounds of mixing: “… it’s important to make the best of your time here. Even if that time ends at some point. It’s not pointless.” He placed a Virgin Colada with a tiny umbrella in front of me. In a plastic glass.

He huffed: “You can’t run away from home to avoid conversation, only to have one with *me*. And now hush, it’s to go, you know he loves you.”

Sheepishly, I grabbed the glass: “Thank you.”

He waved me towards the door.

And sure enough. There were other patrons in need of a pleasant voice.

[asheewrites]

MerMay3 - ‘Octopus’

Mr. Loew brought me outside and he took his phone out. I grabbed his arm and lead him a little further away before he switched it on. He looked slightly irritated, not that it bothered me, but appreciated him not saying anything. So he powered up his phone - a year old, maybe two, somewhat sensible - and used the internet. I... kind of missed the internet, since I started working here. No more spider-vids. So I waited. And then looked at what he was trying to show me, still unconvinced.

And I saw... a terrarium. "...what?" Because... what? He smiled at me, slightly: "Well... I have an aquarium, and I do think it is an interesting pastime, it is for me with fishes" After a few seconds of staring at the insects wriggling around in there... I looked up at him: "... you are aware we have a murderous mermaid on our hands that tries to murder anything living on land?" He looked at me, then shrugged: "I am not fond of the ocean, yet I do enjoy curating my own aquarium" Then he showed me a live feed of an aquarium. 'Lion's Den' it was named. And it looked very well taken care off, enrichment facilities and all. So he had some experience with taking care of animals. "It's all water tight, it only has to be opened every three days to get more air," he said, clearly taken by the idea. ... alright. I sighed and still frowned a little: "... it... might be something we should try" Everything was good by now. "One of my assistants will put someting together. If you wish to participate, it is of course possible. Until it is done, we will try an octopus. They are intelligent and maybe a good companion" He looked satisfied enough. ... well, if it made him happy. Research was meant to be shared, after all. And the more people learn, the better.

[asheewrites]

Foxventures 17

Mister Ruthven was… something, alright.

After I had washed the dishes, he said: “Will you do me a favour?”

And, as he still paid five pounds for staying the night, I replied, whle draining the water from the sink: “I suppose?”

“Good, then sit down and rest, you deserve the rest”, and smiled at me, a little lop-sided.

There was not much else I could do except… following his request, with a token protest: “This is… highly unusual”

“As is a raccoon that brings your daughter to bed. Now put your legs up, please, it’s been a long day”, he shook his head and gestured at the chair.

Naturally, he put away everything that was taken out of the shelves before back where it belonged. He got the dishes in the right places, folded the table cloth properly, cleaned up on the table…

And all the while talked about the ornaments on the plates or where he had seen this style of shelf, cutlery or anything.

“Do you… ever shut up”, I had to say, at one point, grinning at him.

“Aaah, I do apologise. I don’t get to talk much, usually”, he looked a little bashful, if not by much.

“So, you really do live all alone on top of a mountain? Only the dogs to talk to?”, interrogating him was the goal, after all.

He dusted the shelfs now and said: “It’s quite scenic, really. Not a soul for miles upon miles, but yes, it does contribute to constant blabbering”

“And an endless amount of themes to blabber on about?”

He turned towards me, leaning against the counter: “Ah… well… I do have an extensive library, but most books are designed to wax poetry over one such as yourself”, he bowed a little bit, then shrugged, “I sometimes like to enjoy without words, though”, and looked directly at me.

…

Was… was this man seriously flirting with me?

[orlando-gloryflower]

Facilis Descensus Avernus || Prompt 11: Whisper

You've always heard them, in the dark corners of your mind you avoid until the dead of night, when even the moon cannot witness your damned descent.

Alcohol has made it easier, made the ingress more smooth but as has often been said, facilis descensus avernus. 

They've always lurked there, tickling the edges of your brain as you stayed up late, ink-stained fingers clutching one too many cups of coffee as the clock in the corner of the room ticks closer to another dawn you should not be awake to greet. Insidious in their form they take on many voices; first your brother, always your brother, "Why?" He hisses in the night, even as his real form slumbers ten feet away and you know it must be a lie but still you cannot tune his siren song out, "Why must you be such a burden?" Your fathers make frequent appearances as well, a Greek chorus of disappointment, "So smart and so fragile... what use is there for you outside these walls."

But recently you've started to seek them out on your own, a bottle of whiskey in your hand to coax them forward, your own offering to the ghosts of Hades, those spirits in your mind. You've started to mine those dark corners, excavating hatred and fear. You tell yourself, by Dawn's first gentle blush that this is nothing more than an inoculation but you know in your heart of hearts that you want the pain, the callouses that only those acidic tones can create. You tell them to come forth and cut, slice so surgically and bare you down to the quick so that you can rebuild yourself, a new you in the night; a slow transformation into one that can stand on his own. 

You sit and listen to the whispers in the night so that one day you can be strong enough to tell them they're wrong.