April-December

[present]

Miyeong and Third (I've called her Ha-yun in a couple stories now so I'm going with that) never find the final Sunlight Sister so they debut as a duo. But they've always had this feeling that she was out there. The Honmoon never lets them forget, even if their mentors have given up on the possibility of finding her.

The Sunlight Sisters see mild success in Korea and amongst Korean populations outside of the peninsula but don't really go global. Miyeong meets a guy who seems nice enough, and has a short fling with him before they drift apart.

Then the Honmoon stops calmly reminding them.

Miyeong and Ha-yun get this sense, this deep urge that is relentless in their souls. They know it must be their third Hunter, so they "go with their guts" and let the Honmoon guide their decisions all the way from their apartment in Seoul to Montreal in the middle of January.

And then they stop getting any help. Discouraged and not dressed nearly warm enough, they dip in to a small restaurant that caught their eye because it was serving genuine Korean food. It looked like it hadn't been updated since it opened in the 70s. All sorts of knick-knacks and paraphernalia adorned the walls. Newspaper clippings about the restaurant, photos of various local and Canadian celebrities partaking in food, old prints of popular Korean locations from ten years ago. Christmas lights still glowed warmly around the window and amongst the lovingly-cared for potted plants at the front of the shop. There was a flag hanging on the back wall with a large, oddly-shaped "C" with an "H" in the middle, coloured boldly in red, white, and blue. A grainy TV was mounted up in the back corner, displaying highlights from a hockey game with a team wearing jerseys with the same logo. There were only a few other patrons, but it was between meals on a weekday.

Miyeong and Ha-yun were shaking the snow out of their hair when a short older woman appeared through a set of double doors to the back. "Ah, bonjour! Une table pour deux?" she asked them, and even if they couldn't understand the French they could pick up an accent.

"Uh...sorry, we..." Ha-yun stammered in Korean, wincing as she gestured to her and Miyeong with a 'I'm so sorry we didn't understand a word of what you just said' expression on her face.

The older woman's face lit up. "Oh, it's no worries, my dear!" she replied in perfect Korean, "A table for two, yes? I'll set you both up in the best seat in the house!"

She sets them up at a table right by the front window, where they can look out on the busy street outside and the fat, fluffy snow falling from the darkening sky. They ordered based on warmly given recommendations, and then wait for their food. "Do you think we made a mistake?" Miyeong worried as she watched the snow fall, "What if we don't find her?"

"I'm more worried about where we're gonna find a place to stay tonight," Ha-yun pointed out glumly, "We were so preoccupied we kinda forgot that part."

Miyeong had yet another thing to worry about, but her mind was drawn from it by a commotion behind the double doors leading into the kitchen.

"Eomma! Stop! I told you I cook the food instead of serve it for a reason!"

"At the front table are two lovely girls just waiting to meet you!"

"Believe me, I'm happy you're supportive, Eomma, but I literally told you two days ago after you wouldn't stop trying to set me up with Ye-Jun."

"They're pretty, they speak Korean, and I'm certain I saw them on television the other day. Go talk to them!"

"But the japchae needs-"

"I can handle that. Now go!"

And then a woman about their age is definitely shoved through the doors by an overly-supportive mother, carrying their plates of food. She blushed profusely, looking like she wished the floor would open up underneath her, and stiffly brought their order over.

But Miyeong and Ha-yun don’t notice how awkward she was. All they saw was the Honmoon dancing around her like a light show. It might as well be forming a bunch of arrows pointing to her with its bands.

And as if that wasn’t enough, she was stunning. Long black hair was tired up in a messy bun, bangs swept up high and falling down to partially hide one eye. She was wearing an old red and black plaid shirt, rolled up to her elbows, and a food-splattered apron across her front. It was clear she had been busy preparing things in the back, but even after all that time in the kitchen, she made their hearts leap as if they were seeing her on a runway in Paris.

"Uh, sorry about that," the angel in Buffalo plaid said with a wince, "My mother can be…nevermind. Here’s your food."

Miyeong was happy to just accept her food and let the poor woman retreat to the kitchen, but Ha-yun had other ideas. "You have a Korean mother willing to forcefully set you up with women? Girl, you struck the queer jackpot," she commented with a laugh.

Their server released a long suffering sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Tabernack," she muttered, before adding, "I apologize again. I’ll leave you to your food. Let us know if you need anything."

She turned to leave, but only got two steps toward the safety of the kitchen when Miyeong shot out of her seat, shouting, "Wait!"

It stunned everyone. Ha-yun blinked at her in surprise and the mystery woman just stared at her in shock. Miyeong sputtered for a moment, feeling like a car stuck in the snow, before stammering, "Uh… Y…you said you cook here, right? Well, we’re way hungrier than we thought so is there anything else you’d recommend?"

The woman narrowed her eyes, which felt way more intimidating than Miyeong was anticipating. "The mandu is one of my specialties," she stated slowly.

"Ok, we’ll try that!" Miyeong squeaked.

"And…could we get a name?" Ha-yun added with a sly smile.

The woman glared at her. "If I give you my name I’ll have to go back there to where my mother is definitely eavesdropping," she said bluntly, "Do you have any idea how smug she’s going to be?"

Ha-yun shrugged. "So…is that a no on the name?"

Miyeong bit her lip, then blurted, "I’m Miyeong. And that’s Ha-yun."

The woman looked between them, heaving yet another sigh. "Celine," she finally relented.

Bobby is trying his best at taking care of his girls and now celine, since the incident she took zoey's place in hunts until her eye heals properly and her new senses settle down enough for zoey to go out in hunts without risking the girls or herself.

Mira was the one that took care of the scar/injury treatment, cleaning up the wound, checking the stitches and changing the bandages when needed and rumi was helping zoey with moving around and getting confortable with her surroundings again since her sight was impaired and the rest of the wolfy senses were still settling down.

1) I don’t think it’s a bad cut. It’s certainly something that needs tending to but Rumi wasn’t stabbed or anything so she does run the risk of issues if she ignores the cut but she’s not seconds away from death.

2) I think she runs. She runs fast and as far as she can because she’s sure she’s just been found out and Mira and Zoey are going to hate her and kill her and Celine won’t want her anymore and they’ll toss her into Gwi Ma’s realm with the rest of the demons. It’s a lot of spiraling that doesn’t always go together but the point is Rumi is not doing well. She flees from them and hides because she doesn’t really know what to do with herself now.

When I turned 17, we ordered a cake at the grocery store for my party, as we’d done many times before. If you wanted something written on the cake you’d write it into a section of the order form. We requested, very simply, “Happy Birthday Courtney”. When we went to pick it up the day of the party, this is what we got.

The bakery employees had absolutely no explanation for this. The order form, attached to the box, very clearly did not contain any of those extra names. Whomever had done the writing was no longer in, so there was no one to ask how this had happened. The fact that the name ‘Juan’ is misspelled bewilders me to this day. (I’ve never seen ‘Miley’ without the E, either, but it’s believable that someone might spell it that way.) Did this cake slip in from an alternate universe where I’m one quarter of a set of Hispanic quadruplets? Dyslexic Hispanic quadruplets, maybe?

This cake became the focal point of my party. At least two of my friends regularly called me ‘Courtney Mily Jaun Pablo’ for years to come. My siblings and I still reference it sometimes, eleven years later. It is probably the funniest thing ever to occur at any birthday celebration of my life, and may well remain so for the rest of my days.

No One Like You

now, it took us a while to realise it meant "(there is) no one like you". at first, we all parsed it as a botched "no one like(s) you"

here’s another thing about orpheus: he actually did it. he made it out of the underworld without turning around. but he was so excited at the possibility of getting eurydice back that he forgot she still had to follow him out. she had not yet crossed the threshold. one more second and he might’ve gotten her back.

here’s the thing about eurydice: she knew orpheus better than anyone. she knew he was not going to make it. but she followed him the whole way, because she missed him.

It's the Royal Academy of Art Young Artist's Summer Show. One of my favourite exhibitions of the year. Like. Not only are the older kids insanely talented, the younger ones' artist statements will just punch you right in the face.

Jeffrey is my cat and he feels like my heart

Myung-soo’s scared.

Well, he’s not quite sure that’s the right word, but there’s something up with his eomma and something wrong with his grandmas.

Eomma was playing with him on the whole ride over, I Spy and the punch buggy game and all the other ones that Mama loves to play but Myung-soo never gets to because he’s in the back of the car. And his grandmas were in the car and normally, Halmeoni would be joking around with him, but she was looking forward, hand in Mamie’s and it looked like it hurt.