In conclusion on Elective Hall

Ema Skies

October 14, 2020 8:23 PM

In conclusion by Ema Skies

The rest of the time at the lake house had passed in a heartbeat, or a series of them anyway. There had been playful moments ("Are you ticklish?"), quiet and restful moments ("I like falling asleep with someone to hold") and some moments where closeness of a completely random and unexpected kind crept up ("You've been in my parents' house. Does that mean you've seen all my childhood photos? Do I have to push you into a ditch?"). Many of the moments had hovered tantalisingly between the first two, lying at rest but teetering on the verge of something more. Waking up to find Killian had rolled away in the night, and scooching over to wrap him back up and let him be one being snuggled for a bit felt still and restful. Brushing a hand through his hair as he woke up and asking "Do you like to be kissed awake?" and then stalling him before he could roll over and misinterpret that, with three tiny finger tip touches down his neck to its nape "Here, here, and here..." then delivering them as nose snuggles instead. It was interesting to see how such small gestures could feel anything but restful.

When it had come to the time to say goodbye, it almost felt like they had been there forever. The outside world had melted into the distance, and the thought of returning to its bright lights, loud noises and jarring edges seemed foreign and impossible. Standing on the jetty, their arms around each other, it had taken a considerable time to say goodbye.

The rest of the summer had been an adventure. Ema had hesitated in writing to Killian about it, aware that he probably was not having as much fun as she was, and not wanting to rub it in. Well, that and the reasons now documented in the letter waiting on his desk.

When he opened it, he would get to discover that Ema's writing was loopy and occasionally messy. It looked pretty on a page, but a handwriting teacher would find plenty to criticise in the fact that the cursive stopped and started, and that the lilt of the slight italic was nowhere near even throughout. There was also the fact that she crossed her 't's by swirling the pen back round rather than lifting it off the page, which was not a recognised move anywhere but in her own imagination. There was one bright purple sheet covered in silver ink and a very serious looking regular parchment in black ink. The purple sheet read as follows:

Dear Killian,

I hope the rest of your summer was good, even though I rather suspect it was difficult. Even if you didn’t have an easy go of it I hope you found time to breathe, and received appreciation for your efforts.

I wanted to write to you all the time, but I thought with both of us on the move a lot, our owls might end up crisscrossing and missing each other, and I didn’t want us to wind up in a turn of the century farce, or worse still a tragedy of misunderstandings.

I promise I spent the time thinking of you often. Have to ask, do people ever shorten your name? I can see that the only obvious shortening is maybe not the best nickname, but I have to admit you have somehow become ‘Kill’ during a lot of the imaginary conversations I’ve been having with you.

I also spent the time writing up my research. Attached is a first draft for your perusal.

Yours, with hugs,
Em

Behind this was a second sheet. The paper was titled ‘Preliminary Findings on Factors Affecting the Heartrate of K.R (a field study).’

Background and Methodology:
The following reflect a summary of the preliminary research on K.R., at 36 year old guidance counselor. Samples were collected via direct observation, primarily using auscultation or digital pulse reading. Occasionally, heart rhythm changes were suspected based on secondary signs, but these examples are noted in the text. The study was conducted in a small, isolated lake house thus minimising the possibility of external stressors and stimuli on the subject, apart from when they were verbally referenced in conversations.

Certain test stimuli were chosen by the researcher based on their probability of provoking a reaction, whilst several others were naturally occurring environmental situations within the lake house.

This was an individual case study, and thus results may be unique to the individual. They should certainly not be taken as representative of the effects of E.S. on everybody, and the specific interplay of researcher/subject is likely to have been a strong influence. This means results may not be generalised to other guidance counselors, and thus the results may be of limited interest to the wider community. However, this researcher feels that K.R. makes an interesting case study, and that the factors affecting his well-being on an individual level are worth investigating, especially as it seems that limited attention may have been given to this before.

Results:
Emotional stimuli:

Being praised for being a good human by E.S.: slight increase

Being complimented by E.S.: slight increase

Receiving assurances that E.S. is fond of subject: strong increase when stimulus first introduced, moderate response thereafter

Discussing hurt feelings and crappy people: sharp increase

Physical Stimuli:

Fingertip to body contact by contact by E.S. to subject (and vice versa): increase (intensity varies based on how long contact is sustained and location of touch)

Hairstroking of E.S. by subject (and vice versa):
- With accompanying eye contact: increased
- With E.S. at rest on subject’s chest: decrease

Tickle fights: strong increase

Falling asleep with E.S.: decrease

Hiking: presumed increase based on panting and cussing

Fear stimuli:

Possibility of becoming a matchbox: neutral

Other:

Ingesting food described by field researcher as ‘Only a little bit spicy’: presumed increase based on physical symptoms such as eye watering and swearing

Ingesting pancakes: decrease

Discussion:
As with a healthy regime of exercise, an elevated heartrate should not be considered a negative thing. Only one factor which provoked sharp increase should be considered harmful, though it is suspected to be the actual people and not discussion of them which is harmful to K.R. Further discussion may be beneficial. Hiking and spices should potentially be applied in moderation.

One significant finding of this study, is that pancakes may have a positive effect on heart health, contrary to previous scientific findings.

With the exception of hiking, all physical stimuli were noticed to have additional effects on K.R.’s circulation, but this is a subject for a separate discussion.

Conclusion:
Results are varied, but overall show positive effect of lakeside retreats with E.S. subject to increase in pancakes and decrease in chilli. Further research needed.

13 Ema Skies In conclusion 0 Ema Skies 1 5

Killian Row

October 15, 2020 8:57 PM

Don't tell me this is the end. by Killian Row

Killian had received a letter from Ema, assuring him he hadn't made the whole thing up, as soon as he'd returned to his office. It was like she was there, reminding him to take a deep breath and that things were going to be okay, even though she had no reason to say such things yet. She would have to, he supposed. He was going to have to tell her things if he wanted this - whatever this was - to work. Convinced as he was that he hadn't imagined his summer lake house adventures, he still couldn't be sure the letter bore good news until he read it and found himself laughing and grinning like a fool. It was nice and it felt good, despite the bittersweet undertone of longing that would naturally accompany their conversations until they were together again. And it did sound like she wanted to be. Of course, they were both independent enough to have a fine time of life in the mean time, which was good. It was nice knowing he could focus on work and living life and time would pass and then he would see Ema. And maybe he'd do some of his own research then, if she'd let him.

He was surprised by the force of the feelings in his chest, mostly because the biggest feeling there had been anger and the stinging pain of splinching for the past several days. Summer had been a bright light, quickly obliterated by a dark mass of cruelty at the end. Now, he found, that it had maybe only seemed to be obliterated, and the ash and soot could be wiped off, revealing only scarred memories of a generally good holiday. That feeling came and went, and he remained positive with varying degrees of success throughout his waking hours, but he tried. The Feast, he knew, would be harder, simply because he would see Bonny and he would see all these people living lives that he couldn't fix, just like he couldn't fix his own.

In any case, he sat down to respond to her letter just as soon as he'd gotten it, knowing it could be a several week turnaround even if she did the same thing. His own handwriting was fairly neat when he wanted it to be, a habit from writing case notes that others would need to be able to read at times and from trying to get as much out of the limited real estate he had on a single sheet of parchment, but it certainly revealed a bit of his personality too. Neat, professional, and bold, with long strokes that took more time and slowed him down when he needed it.

Dear Ema,

I will count your note as appreciation, as I definitely did not receive any otherwise. I hate to launch so directly into a rather negative story, but I was able to find my brother. I'm not sure what to do and I haven't told my niece or my parents yet. He seems to have left us all in favor of the profits he can make cheating Muggles in an old casino he's helping to run in Las Vegas. He was cruel and uncaring, and I'm not sure what to do about it. He doesn't want me to tell Bonny, and I'm not sure whether it's better or worse to do so.

With that aside, I can say sincerely that your letter made me smile, and it felt wonderful to do. It seems we were on the same page in terms of writing letters, although I'll admit there was a big part of me that also worried I'd somehow made the whole thing up and you wouldn't want to hear from me anyway. I'm glad to find myself wrong in this case, and you have spent a lot of time on my mind as well. Which is great, because you're real pretty.

Someone once tried to call me "Ian," but that seemed too far removed from my name, and others haven't really tried, for exactly the reasons you've found. However, I'll grant you formal permission, if you promise not to abuse the power, to call me Kill if you really must. I have not shortened your name, but I imagine "Ema" is probably already shortened? And there's something deliciously special about each perfect letter tumbling through my head.

I have read your research and concluded that you simply must conduct another study. For science. One important thing you seem to have left off was K.R.'s heartrate when given the honor of providing compliments back to E.S. I believe there is a wealth of information to find there and study should commence immediately. Also, cussing whilst hiking is normal and people who don't do it are clearly the unstable ones because it's bloody hard. Not cussing. Hiking is hard. Cussing is easy. The same can be said of spicy food, and this is miscategorized; future studies should consider the presentation of spicy food as a fear stimulus.

Future studies on circulation in the subject also sound like great fun and should be commenced post haste, at the researcher's discretion.

I hope you have a beautiful start to Autumn and have every chance to enjoy yourself, little kneazle (any good?).

Yours truly (like really truly),
Kill...ian.

22 Killian Row Don't tell me this is the end. 1450 0 5

Ema Skies

October 16, 2020 7:11 PM

I suspect it's just beginning by Ema Skies

Ema returned to her apartment, having seen her reply to Killian off as safely as she could. She glanced again at the date on his letter, feeling like the time it would take for her response to reach him was unacceptable when there were so many things she wanted to say immediately. She tried to console herself that, whilst she felt it was semi-urgent to set things right as soon as possible, she hoped there was no immediate danger of the worst case scenario she had predicted.

She lay on her bed, taking Killian's letter with her. The afternoon rain had just kicked in, and she enjoyed the cooler air flowing through her still open window. She enjoyed the feeling of being safe and dry as it created a chorus on the roof tiles and in the streets. She would very much have liked a certain someone to be curled up enjoying the warmth and safety with her, but for now, rereading his letter would have to do, whilst hers made her way to him.

Dear Killian,

TELL THEM. If you keep a secret for him, you give him power over you. And sure, right now he wants to be the scum of the earth in a dirty old casino, but what about if he shows back up again? If you're keeping secrets for him, he can use that against you, either as leverage or by throwing it out to damage other people's opinions of you. Yes, it's far less of an evil than any of the things he is doing but it sounds like they have no trust in him left to break, whereas you do. I know you aren't doing it for him, you are doing it to try to protect them from the truth but I can't stand the thought of your own goodness ever being thrown back in your face. Or maybe you're afraid they'll be mad at you for telling them? Unfair, but a possibility. A middle ground then - be open and honest about the fact you are looking and ask them what they want to know. I'm not saying that's foolproof, I know people can be irrational, and I suppose you know them best to make the judgement on what's a bigger risk here. That's just what sounds best to me, if everyone is being fair and logical - I just hope enough of them are.

You are good, you are sweet, you are trying so hard even though so much is crappy.

You are definitely not an 'Ian.' That doesn't make sense, as it just makes it sound like that's your name, which kind of defeats part of the point of a nickname.

'If you really must' does not sound like particularly enthusiastic consent so maybe 'Kill' will be reserved for the imaginary version of you. That seems fair, as, I'm sure there's a few things that imaginary Ema is a little less hesitant about than her real life counterpart... Just to reassure you, I wasn't thinking of it for constant, every day use, just for when I'm feeling lazy (and occasionally sassy), e.g. 'Hey, Kil, can you get me a coffee while you're up?' or 'Kil, are you done with the sports section?' (I have no idea why imaginary Ema wants the sports section. I doubt very much she has started following the league but perhaps she has once again convinced herself to try being artistic and is doing papier macher). Note the altered spelling too. I could also conscientiously make sure to pronounce it with only one 'l' to make it less unfortunate. Then it would also match 'Ema.' Or mirror it, vowels and consonants-wise. Just suggestions, you are welcome to still hate it, and I will do my best not to accidentally cross your boundaries.

Side note, the above, re nicknames, does not apply if you are someone who hates her real name, in which case it is a very convenient disguise, though having an unusual spelling will raise questions and suspicions... O, at least, I would guess so. Just theorising. On a totally unrelated note, I have no idea why you think that a woman with a daughter called Krissalyn and a granddaughter called Araminta (I swear she had a hand in that) didn't stop at three simple letters with me... Ahem.

...It's short for Emarette, and I absolutely do not give you permission to lengthen it back out, at least not if you value having both your kidneys. Recall previous comments from hiking re childhood photos/ditches. I do however give you permission to offer your own humorous addition to complete the sentence 'That sounds like...' So far, I have a Muggle airline, a liqueur, a hair accessory, something antique and French.

Kneazle is better (though I am perfectly average height, thank you very much). Wonder where you got that idea... It's almost like you've been studying my inner thigh.

E.S. appreciates notes on study and will consider revisions. However, if spicy food was a fear stimulus, reaction would have been expected upon its introduction to the environment, not merely upon ingestion. It may need to be reclassified for future studies as K.R. may have developed fear responses through exposure.

Some scientific enquiries to tide us over until the next in person experiment...
- Do letters from E.S./thoughts/memories of same have similar effects re heart rate? How about other areas?

I do not get an autumn/fall, and it is one of the major downsides of living here, as I absolutely adore it. I would say 'send me sone leaves' but I think it's probably illegal due to threat of unbalancing local eco systems. I suppose leaves are fairly inert, so may be allowed, but let's not risk it. I'm going to have enough trouble waiting for your letters without having to factor in wondering whether they've been confiscated for leaf smuggling.

It is rainy season here, which people assume must be terrible, but I find hot season worse. The rain is fairly predictable and it cleanses the air. There's something nice about being safe inside whilst it comes down, though there's also something to be said for getting caught out in it and just giving in to being soaked to the skin in seconds, watching rivers appear in all the gutters. It's still warm when it rains, so it's not unpleasant getting thoroughly soaked, so long as you're on your way home and can change as soon as you get in. Enjoy fall for me. I usually frolick, and enjoy kicking big piles of leaves or wading through them.

Yours, affectionately,
Em

13 Ema Skies I suspect it's just beginning 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Killian Row

October 23, 2020 2:23 PM

I like that much better. by Killian Row

OOC: Letters are set in time by what's happening in the rest of the term. This is set after the first week of classes and such. BIC:

Killian wasn't precisely sure how he felt about being told what to do in no uncertain terms, but he suspected that was just Ema. He also suspected she was right, because as much as he liked to think he had options here, he really didn't. As such, he'd taken the time between getting her letter and replying to it to talk to Bonabelle and to write a letter to his own parents. Some of the details were naturally left out in both cases, but still.

Deer Ema, (here, he included a tiny drawing of a doe and a buck looking at each other with big sparkly eyes)

Your wish is my command. No, but I did take your words to heart, and I wrote to my parents. Bonabelle and I have weekly tea together and I spoke with her this week as well. Lorcan would have to work very very hard to ruin other people's opinions of me and I don't think I've ever seen him work that hard at anything, but I do appreciate your concern. You worry like someone who has experienced hurt before, I think. Should you ever want to talk about that, I'm a good listener.

In the end, I told them almost everything. My parents haven't yet written back, but I suspect they will be glad to have answers, if nothing else. Bonabelle seemed . . . something. Surprised? Angry? I can't read her as well as I can other people in the best of times, and especially now when I am so wrapped up in the matter myself. We talked and then spent most of the rest of our tea time in silence before she finished her cup and left the room. I think she will be okay, and she didn't seem upset with me exactly, but I'm not sure. She seemed thoughtful, and I know full well that that can be worse sometimes.

I should be honest in saying that Lorcan brought up old memories that I have since found hard to seal away, and the impact on my health has been more pronounced than I would have preferred. I find that sleep eludes me until late most nights, food is only half as exciting as it ever was, and I've been jumpier than usual. Last year, Jean-Loup - my friend that I mentioned who is in training to become a healer - asked me where do people go for help when they themselves are the ones who help others. I have not yet found a sufficient answer, and so, while I hate to burden you with my troubles, I thought that it may be best to at least share the burden a little with somebody who cares. I have considered a sleeping draught but with substance use being the source of some of this strife in my family in the first place, I have a hard time finding it worth it to become dependent that way. I promise, the rest of this letter will be happier than this lone paragraph.

I'm glad you think I'm good and sweet, and I hope you continue to think that. I sort of hope everyone thinks that of me, and that I'm devilishly handsome of course, but your opinion counts the most. Is that saying too much?

It's hard to imagine having a nickname at all, so I think you can safely assume that my reluctance isn't based so much in the nickname itself as in the concept as a whole. Most plays on my name have been the subject of mockery more than, dare I say, affection, so that probably contributes some.

I feel like I should assure you that imaginary Ema generally only does things that I think real-life Ema would approve of. It seems rather rude to think of her as doing anything else, although she does give me slightly more encouragement when I go for a second helping of dessert than I imagine you would. For what it's worth, I'm not sure what imaginary Kil is doing with the sports section either, and he would be better off contributing to paper mache as well. If it matches 'Ema', then 'Kil' is maybe alright after all. I'll need to hear the single L pronunciation just to be sure of course.

Emarette is a lovely name, theoretically, and might theoretically bring me to grinning like a fool in my office at the thought of such a practical woman being named after . . . shall we say a fancy dessert? Perhaps imaginary Ema won't mind the expanded version so much . . .

Average height for you is still sort of small to me, to be fair. I would never do anything like study your inner thigh. Glance, however . . . well I do like to think that you wouldn't mind such analysis anyway. I've never had the courage to get a tattoo myself, although I recently acquired some fun new markings regardless. I forget whether I mentioned these in my first letter to you? As it turns out, Disapparating and Apparating several states over whilst deeply upset is not a wise idea and may result in splinching slivers of skin off various parts of your body. None of the important parts, I assure you, although I think you prefer my splinched bits to those parts of me that traveled more safely. My face and leg have since healed fairly well but I can't seem to get my hair to grow back quite normally on my chest. Time will tell, I suppose. It doesn't look much like a kneazle, but I might get away with calling it a will-o'-the-wisp. Pale, streaky, hidden amongst the brush? That sounds right.

I think it is safe to say that spicy food may now be classified as a fear stimulus although K.R. would like it to be known that he has tried spicy food before and was doing a Big Brave in trying it again, all for the sake of a pretty lady. I'll have to do some more research for you on the new questions you raise, although I think it's safe to say that memories probably do more than letters for circulation-related inquiries. I think it would be rather odd if that were not the case? I have noted a particularly sharp spike in the subject's heart rate upon receival of letters from E.S. and throughout each of the subsequent readings. I wonder whether that is true of E.S. upon her receival of letters from K.R.?

It is rather unfortunate that I can't send you leaves, so I think you'll just have to come visit here instead.

Killian paused, thinking of his conversation with Selina. Thinking of how perfect it would be if Ema did stay, and also thinking of how he would likely never forgive himself if she stayed without really wanting to. That, he knew, would have to be her decision. Of course, he couldn't say he hadn't peeped through an almanac of Laos just to see what it was like there.

My boss tells me that there is a lovely little lake house somewhere in the middle of nowhere that her youngest daughter stayed at while she was visiting over this past summer. Naturally, I would have no idea, but I suspect it would be a lovely place to return to periodically if possible.

Call me Irish, but I find something wonderful and cleansing about the rain as well and much prefer it to the sun in most cases. There are exceptions, and I think I would not think this way if it were rainy every single day, but for now I am a firm believer that the rain is simply better. The groundskeeper is far too thorough to allow for leaf piles, but I may find a way and will certainly think of you at every chance I have to frolic. If you do visit and you were to find yourself stuck in the rain in the cold, I promise to keep you very warm and make sure that you get home safely, with every chance to have enjoyed the storms on your way.

Your Thing,
Kil

P.S. Please note that I did not lie to your mother, although I wasn't precisely forthcoming with my knowledge of said lake house either. I'm not sure whether omissions or transparency are more likely to get me turned into a matchbox, should I ever have the opportunity to find myself falling asleep with you again. Without a proper date to countdown to, I find myself counting only the passing days since I saw you last. I hope that number does not grow too large.

With one final doodle, a picture of a cabin that looked strikingly familiar and the number of days since he'd last been there marked underneath it, Killian sealed the letter in an envelope. He held on to it for a very long time before finally passing it to the owl who would probably pass it to another owl who would hopefully not drop it in the ocean. He had considered simply writing to Ema every day or else several times a week to avoid either of them having to wait as long as they did at this rate, but he thought that that was perhaps too forward. He'd never considered himself quite one to get lovesick, but he was finding he felt very much that way. With Jean-Loup gone, with Lorcan's words and old memories intruding on his daily thoughts, and with Ema far away, it was thoughts of the next letter and their next encounter that mostly kept him sane.

22 Killian Row I like that much better. 1450 0 5

Ema Skies

October 30, 2020 7:02 PM

I'd like it better if I could see you by Ema Skies

Ema brushed her fingers over Killian’s words, hesitating yet again as she reached the paragraph that made her the most uncomfortable. When her eyes were not on his letters, it was easy to stop believing the strength of the words in them. She knew she was rather good at making things up, little worlds inside her head where people behaved how she would prefer them to instead of how they actually did. When the letters were not in front of her, it was easy to believe she was doing that again. It was also easy to believe, in the case of this paragraph, that she was worrying over nothing. That it wasn’t as bad as her memory was telling her. But every time she returned to it, the words were there.

Jumpier than usual.

Killian hadn’t struck her as jumpy at all, and whilst the lack of sleep and proper eating were concerning, those were common enough symptoms of stress. But feeling jumpy? The fact he didn’t know where to go for help also worried her. The answer to that, for when things really got beyond the point where you knew how to deal with them, was that you went to therapy. She wasn’t sure what Killian’s relationship to that word was. It was very hard to judge how much of that was a conversation she should even try to start via letter because it wasn’t one that she wanted to go wrong, not wanting to scare him off either from getting help or from talking to her. But it felt like it needed to be said.

It felt like a lot of things needed to be said, and done, and she had spent two days doing as much as she could at a distance, and wondering how seriously to take any of the requests that she should go see him. Two days of effort, of tinkering with her projects and her words, and she still wasn’t entirely satisfied with the results, but she also didn’t want to delay any further in getting these to him. On the table sat a letter labelled ‘read first’ and the two wrapped packages labelled ‘1’ and ‘2’, and part of her wanted to just scoop them up and deliver them in person. And she thought that she was being ridiculous every time she thought that, but then she’d read his letter again…

Still, she found herself packing it all into a box, and sending it with an owl, feeling like it was going to be too long until it got there, and until she heard back.

Dear Cheesy Potato, - as Killian’s had been, the letter was decorated with a drawing. Whilst he had managed a fairly impressive pair of deer, Ema was pretty sure she would have to stick to nicknames that were basically circles with arms.

It feels a little wrong to begin with something so silly when there is so much that sounds rather serious to deal with, but I felt I had to reply in kind, and hopefully it makes you smile before we get down to the serious stuff. I hope it’s abundantly clear that I like cheesy potatoes, and that you are more than welcome to carry on in this fashion.

I hope Bonabelle is okay. I’ve been feeling worried about telling you to tell everyone in case it didn’t go well or wasn’t the right decision. I don’t mean to be interfering, I just felt worried about the position you might end up in if you were caught in the middle.

I don’t think anyone really gets to our age without experiencing some hurt. I don’t think I have direct experience with anyone comparable to Lorcan, just that I know enough to think the worst of people who seem to deserve that. I spent less than a week with you and that was enough time to see that he is someone who has hurt you deeply. I have no reason to give him the benefits of any doubts or assume anything but the worst about his potential behaviour - unless you were to request that I do it, as a favour to you, but that doesn’t seem something you’re likely to wish for. I suspect my own past sorrows are more run-of-the-mill. Heartbreak, etc.

Regarding who people go to for help… Yes, you are welcome to come to me, and I hope you will continue to do so. If it takes too long to say it by letter, I can call you. I just don’t know when/how - I don’t want to interrupt you with a student. Or whilst talking to my mother. I am only a floo call away though. I go to my friends. And to my mother (sometimes). I hope it wasn’t too awkward when you saw her. I didn’t mean to put you in a difficult position. I would hate to think I’m making it harder for you to spend time with her because I think she quite likes your company, and you sound like you could do with a friend right now - I don’t want to deprive either of you that. Some people go to therapists. I know this presents some problems too. Who then, do the therapists go to? I think they work a little bit like Russian dolls. One therapist collects problems until they all get too much, then they go and nestle inside a bigger therapist, all the way up until you reach the Uber Therapist who is capable of holding all the problems. I know people who go to therapy. You probably do too, even if you don’t know that you know it.

Not sleeping and not enjoying your food sound deeply problematic. I have been lying awake considering what to do about this. You may now open parcel one, and then read on.

You should now have two packets of chips/crisps. The first are lime and pepper, which was something that seemed weird to me as a chip flavour when I first arrived, but which are actually really good. I figure these will either wake up and inspire your taste buds or so revolt you that you find solace and comfort once again in your regular potatoes. The others are salted banana chips. You can get sweet ones too but I feel like sweet banana isn’t really a novelty. Who knew that what fruit needed was drying, frying and being turned into salted chips? They are YUM.

Regarding sleep, I have clear memories of you sleeping perfectly soundly when I was there to put my arms around you. Or perhaps it was just the still and tranquil lakeside air, or all the hiking and pancakes. I suppose you could try those out in various combinations, and to help with that research, open parcel 2 (I promise it’s not dismembered arms, as those would go down very badly at the owl office).

Okay. Very weird gift time. I am not confident at extracting memories and am pretty sure that sending them via mail is dubious. So, this was the closest that I could come up with to giving you a little lake house to keep by your bed. It’s all the scents from our trip, or as close as I could get. I’m sure there’s something about smell evoking memory better than any other sense or something - anyway, I just like comforting smells cos I’m a weirdo. There is magic to pull the scents into the bottle and keep them there, but there is no magic acting on you. Nothing dangerous or unnatural - just comforting memories. - It had been a challenge to pull them together, especially how to evoke the scents of fresh air and lake water, which seemed to smell of nothing at the time but whose absence made the whole thing fall flat. It had been an odd couple of days of apparating (slightly tentatively, after Killian’s letter) out into the countryside, and of running weird experiments soaking herself and her swimsuit in the shower in case the smell of water on skin came close enough. In the end, she had something that smelt mostly fresh and bright and clean, with just little hints of banana pancakes and her shampoo.

I hope it helps. When I can’t sleep, I count the stars. I make myself close my eyes and picture them as accurately as I can and try to count them all. It’s just enough mental energy to keep my brain from drifting to whatever is keeping it awake (lately, you) but not so much that it keeps me up. I also recommend finding something to hug. Has societal pressure and toxic masculinity made you believe that you have outgrown plushies? This is a lie, and one of the worst and most harmful myths perpetuated about becoming an adult, particularly an adult male. I almost always travel with a teddy, and if I find I’ve forgotten to bring one, I’ll usually hug a pillow instead.

Also, to reply out of order and get all the most serious parts done with first, I am not sure I can agree with the idea that you splinched unimportant parts of yourself, as I wasn’t aware there were any such bits. Please define ‘healing fairly well.’ I hope you are properly recovered, and if not that the medic there is able to help you out.

It’s surprising to hear that my opinion would mean so much, though it’s definitely not an unpleasant thing to be told. I suspect an opinion is only ‘too much’ if it strays into hyperbole and isn’t seriously meant. I’m quite comfortable with you having any depth of feeling you like about me, but not with exaggeration.

It’s sweet of you to be so respectful of imaginary Ema. I worry now that I have taken liberties with imaginary Killian. I’m not sure you consented to fetching my coffee or reading the Sunday papers with me. It sounds rather domestic and unexciting. Apart from the spicy food which imaginary K is very willing to try, and is developing a tolerance for. I also suspect I put all sorts of words into his mouth that you would never say, or at least thatI hope you wouldn’t. Do you ever do this to yourself? Imagining people whose opinion you care about the most saying the things you want to hear the least? I would say that seven times out of ten, imaginary Killian is kind and good and sweet, but maybe three in ten he’s a real piece of work. If it helps, that’s a pretty good track record for the people inside my head.

You have mentioned dessert twice. Would the Emarette be the one you’re going for that second helping of? If so, I assume any and all Emas, imaginary or real, would be far from discouraging. That brings us back to the subjects of heart rate and circulation again. Re the latter, I suspect it depends on what exactly I write - for example, if we were to dwell on the topic of my inner thigh for a while, and about the possibility of you exploring that with more than just your eyes- but perhaps I have misread. You asserted that you would never study that, so perhaps this subject is of little interest.

You mentioned before that you were worried you’d dreamed me. I have always remained fairly certain you are real, but the thing I keep accusing myself of making up is the idea of you being interested. I hate that you’re so far away, but I have your words, real and concrete in front of me, which make it impossible for me to tell myself that you don’t want… something. Something that involves you and me and being in the same place again. I’m almost afraid to ask because I don’t think I will like the answer but… when? And I suppose, where? The latter doesn’t feel like so much of an issue. We can cross miles in seconds, it’s having the hours to spare when we get there that’s the challenge. Well, and the fact that you’re holed up in a boarding school in a different country. I suppose ‘where’ matters a little. I keep thinking about how I’ll most likely be home at Christmas, and then remembering that if you’re doing the same, that doesn’t bring us any closer together. You keep telling me to come see you, but you don’t explain how. I would if I could. I want to make it so that I can.

With you in spirit,
Ema

13 Ema Skies I'd like it better if I could see you 0 Ema Skies 0 5

Killian Row

November 07, 2020 11:09 PM

Let's do it! by Killian Row

It was odd to Killian just how comfortable he was already, even without knowing Ema that well in the grand scheme of things. There were things he didn't want to share just yet, sure, but for the most part, that was because of his own reluctance to bring them up, not because of her. In fact, he felt more comfortable sharing with her than he did with anyone else he knew. As social and outgoing as he generally was, he didn't have a lot of long-term friendships to speak of. Or none at all really. He had some old connections, and he was close enough with Mary now to call that a real friendship, on top of his growing connections with Gray and Marsh - for a given value of friendship with two such introverts - but he didn't have anyone he would talk to about these things. Just Ema.

As hard as it was for him to think of sharing personal things across the world with someone he missed very dearly, it was also good and nice and it felt more helpful than he'd expected to find that she was there to support him, even from across the world. And all the way across the world, there was a nice lady who thought he was a potato and was okay with that.

In this case, it was also a nice lady who gave him gifts that made him laugh and smile and feel a lot better.

Dearest Ema,

I didn't include a drawing or nickname because I want to save them up. Also, I like your name. But I will, I promise. I will definitely continue in the fashion of a cheesy potato, at least as long as you continue liking it.

I think Bonabelle will be okay if she isn't already. Her birthday was October 13 and I think she had a good time, which helps. Her friend, Valentine, had some plans for her and it's good to see people care about her other than just me. And you, I think.

It makes me sad to think of you having experienced any heartbreak, regardless of how that compress to anything with Lorcan. He's a dumbass, but he's my brother and there are pros and cons to that relationship that don't come with heartbreak. I don't think I have reason to request you give him any benefit of the doubt, except perhaps as a favor to Bonabelle if it were to come to that, and I don't know that that is likely to happen. She didn't express an interest in pursuing a further relationship or connection with him when we spoke.

I like coming to you, although I do definitely wish that letters went faster. I, too, am only a call away, and I would very much like to make that happen. Since I've read the whole of your letter, I know you've asked about that further on, and I am trying to reply in order, so I'll expand on that later in this response.

I don't see a regular therapist but part of that is the country-hopping nature of my life, and the amount of time I spend at work. Living and working in the same place comes with pros and cons as well. Perhaps you are onto something and I should amend that!

Dearest Ema, potatoes are always the best gift and I feel better already. The flavored ones are great, and new to me! And I have never seen any such thing as these banana snacks and you've officially found a way to get fruits and vegetables into me. Congratulations!

Killian had paused, reading and re-reading the next part of the letter already, but now that it was time to reply, he found himself doing the same thing. It made his chest hurt. It made everything hurt. Finally, with a breath and shaky hands, he put quill to paper and proceeded.

I also remember sleeping particularly well with you, and I can't say enough how much I would like to do that again. I hope that's not too forward of me to say? I feel fairly confident in saying that we have established some level of mutual feelings here, but particularly in the midst of feeling so especially vulnerable with you, I must be honest in saying just how dearly I miss spending time with you. Who knew that even a few days would have such an impact on my life? I find that my bed is empty and cold despite you never having been here to warm it up, and I find that my room is quiet, despite your laughter never having been here to fill it. I'll not lie - your second gift made me feel warm and cold all at once, and I would give up very much to be back at the lake house with you. Or anywhere with you, actually.

Please let me know if such confessions make you uncomfortable.

I'll also confess that, while I'm not sure it can be chocked up to toxic masculinity, I have never had plushies much before. However, I will definitely try sleeping with a pillow tonight, and hope to find that it helps. Unfortunately, I was never so skilled with astronomy and probably couldn't tell you much about the stars, but I have spent enough time poring over a globe and a map that I could probably navigate my way through a list of transport stations from here to Laos, and that may help as well.

Again, let me know if such confessions make you uncomfortable.

I am perfectly happy to be domestic, and those things sound very much like me until you got to spicy food and saying mean things. Sometimes, I do the same thing as far as imagining the worst. It's easier, as it sounds like you know, when you've heard it once before; then, it's just a matter of reworking the memory to put somebody new in that spot, and then it hurts all over again. If you need, I'm happy to give imaginary Killian a good solid talking-to.

If the Emarette was consenting, I think I would have many many helpings. I'm not sure how to read into the idea that you may not be discouraging, except to say that I am happy to find out what that would look like. I can assure you that I am not quite a buffet, but I am all yours for as many plates of whatever you'd like as I can provide. There are probably some caveats or limits I should draw on that, but I'll trust that to be a conversation for someplace in whispers, not writing.

I can assure you that I dwell on that topic only exactly as much is appropriate (a lot) and only with imaginary Ema's consent (she's very enthusiastic at times) and . . . okay, I can't keep that up. I'll agree that there may be heart rate effects but I'll leave questions about circulation for in-person inquiries, for the sake of scientific validity and . . . stuff. I would however like et confirm that this is indeed an area of interest for me, as are any and all other lines and curves and secrets you have to share.

Which brings us to the topic that makes my heart race the most: the thought of seeing you again. I can only hope you get the next letter in time for this - I have calculated that if we are both replying the same day or next day of receiving a letter from the other, that it takes about a week each way and you should hopefully get this in time. I will plan to be available at my fireplace for a floo call a week and a half from now.

He wrote down his floo extension, the date, and several hours in which he would be available. Then, just in case he picked the one date she had plans already, he wrote down the next day as well.

I would like very much to see you then, if you are able to. I'll be available both days, just in case the first does not work for you, but I do so dearly hope it does. I am a bit nervous to think of being restricted to a call, as the temptation to simply dive into the fire after you is very real some days. Still, I think that I'll survive much better with your voice alive in my head and your face in my eyes, rather than the limited communication we have by letter. That being said, I will be happy to communicate by letter for as long as we are apart.

I do want something, if you do. Very much. I know that something is you-shaped. If you plan to be in the United States for Christmas, I can plan on the same. I also wondered whether you might like to spend part of the holidays with me in Ireland. You'll meet my parents and Bonabelle and they will all love you dearly. I recognize that asking a girl home to meet your parents sounds big, and I think that that's alright with me, if it's alright with you.

If you'd prefer something else, I'll sit in my office all break if it means I can spend a day with you for part of that time. (Okay, so I would, but probably let me know so I can spend part of the break at home as well because that just seems a bit rude otherwise). He drew a squiggly-face with a tongue sticking out.

This also brings us to the topic of my maths and having figured out approximately when you'll receive this letter and my next reply. Unfortunately, it will miss your birthday. Fortunately, we are magic. You may now open your parcel as well. I wish it could be half so thoughtful or thorough as your gift of longed-for air, but I hope that it means something to you nonetheless.

The box that came with Killian's letter was small and thin. He would have loved to say that he had made what was inside, but it was beyond his abilities as a wizard, but within his budget to purchase. It helped that he did very little with the money he earned working at Sonora. In opening the box, she would find a leather cord braided into what was probably meant to look Celtic - it was a bit stereotypical, but then, he hadn't purchased it in Ireland - and a stone pendant wrapped into the center with swirling, crackling colors throughout the surface of the stone. It was designed to be a bracelet, but could be worn as a necklace if extended.

It somehow feels very arrogant to assume that the best thing I can give you is something of myself, but it seemed appropriate as it is from me after all. You'll notice that there's also a note underneath the bracelet/necklace for you to turn into the nearest magic florist, as I've included the purchase for the biggest, most ridiculous bouquet they have. You deserve to feel very special because you really truly are. I am not terribly sure of your style or taste in jewelry, but I saw something beautiful and it made me think of you.

Happy happy birthday, my dearest kneazle. I do hope to see you on the above mentioned date. Until then.

Yours,
Killian

22 Killian Row Let's do it! 1450 0 5

Ema Skies

November 07, 2020 11:42 PM

If patience is a virtue... by Ema Skies

Writing letters to a friend was a perfectly decent and sensible passtime, especially in a community where that was the main form of communication. Writing distractedly romantic and passionate letters to someone an ocean away, with whom it was probably a terrible idea to have more than a passing aquaintanceship, was a very different matter. And yet this, and watching the window for replies, seemed very much to be Ema's new hobbies. So much so that, a few days after sending her last letter off to Killian, she found herself standing in front of her desk, contemplating the bottle of rapidly-diminishing silver ink. She had composed him countless letters since the last one, passing her days toying with what combinations of words she might put down to convey just what she was feeling - and what effect they might have on their recepient. This had purely been inside her head though, and she had not, committed any of those thoughts to paper.

That would be silly, she thought, fingers tracing over the bottle, lightly lifting it from the shelf - as if doing the action more delicately meant she wasn't really doing it.

It was his turn to write, and she should wait for his reply, she told herself, as she sat down at her desk, a fresh sheet of purple paper in front of her, and dipped her quill in the ink...

Dear Killian,

I know that this is almost certainly going to cross with your owl midair. - the date at the top of the letter, along with the timing of its arrival, would indeed confirm that to be the case - That is a risky business, and I hope that your own letter does not contain anything that is going to make it feel embarrassing or inappropriate to know that this will be landing on your desk a few days after you sent it. That is based on the dates of your previous letters, and the presumption that you are still as keen to be writing back to me - I hope that is the case. You aren't giving me any reason to doubt that, which is good.

It seems too long between every letter, and this is coming from someone who usually likes to move slowly, so I felt I had to write again. I want to say that I miss you, but that seems to do a disservice to the parts of you that I have here. I like having your words, in a solid, concrete way that I can go back to and look at over and over again. I like seeing the way you write. But I miss the rapidity of real time communication. I miss seeing your face whilst you talk and trying to read your emotions, even if there is ample evidence of them on the page.

I miss your physical presence.

I can't pretend that I'm going to be a different person when you see me next, and that everything two people can do together is suddenly going to be on the cards, even if half of me wants that to be true. But I do want to pick up where we left off. I want your fingertips tracing circles on my spine. I want to remember what it feels like when I run my hand down your chest. I want to touch you all over with the barest brushes of my fingertips. I want simultaneously to know that I have explored every part of you, and that I still have so much left to discover. I want the same to be true in return.

I want the weight of your arms around me, and I want us to take turns at pulling the other one in and wrapping them in safety as they fall asleep. Then I want to wake up side by side, magic up some pancakes, and do it all again.

I want all of you.

Ema.

13 Ema Skies If patience is a virtue... 0 Ema Skies 0 5