Chapter 1: December 1
Chapter Text
December 1
Recording begins, 11:25 am.
Rustling sounds come through before it stops and it's silent for only a few seconds before loud clattering takes over.
(muttered) Shit.
More rustling followed by a long sigh out.
Hey. So. Uh. This is Louis Tomlinson, and oh my god. What am I doing starting this off like I'm leaving a voicemail when this is entirely different?
Silence, lasting approximately 28 seconds.
Alright. So in case the swans do actually succeed in killing me and I die alone in this decrepit castle in the middle of nowhere Scotland, I guess I'll explain what I'm doing this for, even though I'm only recording this for myself.
Right. God, I feel like such a bellend just sitting here talking into my phone like this when I know damn well no one is going to listen to this but me, but here we are.
Okay. So. Focus, Louis, for fuck's sake. Two weeks ago I moved up here to Loch whatever to care for the castle and the swans. Mostly the swans. The castle is just my free lodging whilst I do so. They're paying me a fortune to do this, and as I'd just lost my job without notice in September and my savings had run out… fuck, you don't need to know any of this.
So, yeah. Long story short. Local Scottish government is paying me stupidly well to care for the swans on this lake. Loch. Whatever. Guess I should call it a loch as that's what it's actually named, but it's fine. I don't know if I just skimmed the paperwork a bit too well or if I thought I had a grasp of the living situation and completely misunderstood, but I'm here. Alone. In a furnished but old and fucking freezing castle. Caring for the fucking swans that are… rare? Indigenous? I don't actually fucking know why they care so much about these swans, but they do and now I'm here taking care of the damn things.
Not only do I need to care for them, though, I'm meant to keep a log as best I can of any changes to the… flock? Is it called a flock of swans? I don't think it is, but I'll have to check on that later since if I get out of the app I'm using to record all this, it thinks I'm done and doesn't just end the recording, but it deletes it. Annoying as shit, that is. I have attempted to start this the last few days and lost all the recordings so had to go by memory when filling out the paperwork.
Which is an issue, as I'm a bit of a pothead.
Brief pause with quiet chuckles followed by a shorter, less dramatic sigh than the previous one.
So yeah, my memory is shit and I always make mental notes whilst I'm out there monitoring them and feeding them and all that good shit, but I forget a lot of it if I don't do the paperwork immediately.
And mate, the fucking paperwork is the worst part of this whole thing. Like, the swans are gorgeous and all that but they smell and they're messy and their shit gets everywhere on the castle grounds, and… anyway. I'm honestly tired of doing the paperwork twice a day just to be sure that I don't forget anything, so I figured if I just record everything I need to remember for the reports, then I can just fill them out once a week and submit them once I'm done. Boom.
The issue is…
Pause, with some quiet rustling.
I guess the issue is this just feels weird. But I'll get used to it the more I do it, right? Right.
So here we go.
There's still 30 swans, but there seems to be a disturbance. I know that the guy who introduced me to the area said that this was a rare colonial nesting situation and that none of the swans are nesting or breeding, which is how the flock has gotten so large, but it seems to me that two of them swans are starting to break apart from the rest? And that doesn't seem like something that should be happening, right? If they all live together and have done for some time, there will obviously be changes and all, but this is new with these two. They all have been just fine together until around Friday last week.
One of the swans was in a fight with another, which can happen sometimes with this lot, so I didn't think anything of it, but when I went out the next day, I noticed that the same swan that had gotten a mark on it's neck from the earlier fight was keeping it's distance with another one. Could they be pairing off and becoming territorial or something? Is that something that happens with swans?
Fuck. I know the type of swans, these are mute swans, and they are the only kind that doesn't migrate here I guess, but I maybe need to do more research. The paperwork and the guy who helped me settle in didn't mention anything about this kind of stuff, and so I didn't think I'd have to worry about it.
So, there we go. That's the biggest thing I've noticed. The food supplies are looking good and all of the swans seem healthy and happy otherwise. Just getting a bit worried about what's happening with those two.
So… I guess that's it.
Rustling sounds. End of recording.
Recording begins again, 11:49 am.
It is apparently referred to as a flock of swans, but also most commonly called a bevy, which is what that Steve guy called them before. That's why I thought flock was wrong. He always called them a bevy. They can also be called a game, a lamentation, or a wedge.
And turns out mated pairs of mute swans are incredibly fucking territorial. So. That could definitely be what's going on with these guys now, if they are mating off. And if that's the case, what does it mean for the rest of my bevy?
End of recording.
Chapter 2: December 2
Notes:
I cannot believe so many of you are interested in this ridiculous fic and I am well excited for it! I hope I'm able to keep you interested during this whole journey and that Louis is just as endearingly ridiculous to you as he is to me hahaha Thanks for reading!
Today is a snow day for my kids, which seems awfully fitting considering today's chapter for Louis. Cheers!
Chapter Text
December 2
Recording begins, 7:52 am.
This… (wind sounds obscure the words) …bloody awful… (more wind) …can't…
More wind takes over, this time lasting a full minute and a half with only occasional vocalizations able to be heard.
I just don't really know what more to do if that's the case, you know? The wind is already bad, and from what I was told, I thought they'd have taken shelter somewhere by now, but—
The next seven minutes, forty five seconds are filled with wind and the occasional sound of a male voice.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 2:02 pm.
Well. Clearly the earlier attempt to record whilst I was actually out there was a bust. If I'm going to do that again in the midst of a storm I suppose I'll need to get myself a microphone to pin on me or something. What a waste. Was really hoping to get all that down, because I knew I wouldn't remember everything from that.
It's fine. I guess. I think I remember the basics, which is all the report needs anyway. I just was really hoping to be able to keep the details straight in my mind in case I do need to call in the vet or whoever they have listed in the case of an emergency.
But what the fuck do they consider an emergency, eh? Like, to me, a man who knows next to nought about fucking mute swans in Scotland, it seems like an emergency if the winds are getting high enough for a weather emergency due to an incoming storm. Especially if the swans aren't showing any signs of common sense or self preservation by actually going and taking shelter somewhere, yeah?
A loud clunk indicating the phone was set down on a hard surface is then followed by the sound of receding footsteps. When Louis speaks again, his voice sounds as if it is coming from across the room, on the verge of shouting.
Hope the recording picks this up as my phone is still charging, but I'm checking out the window that looks on where the swans most commonly congregate, and the bloody idiots are still out there. They look almost like they're huddled together, though, so that makes me feel a little better? I guess?
The sound of footsteps again, this time coming closer before the sound of a sigh and shifting around, then the rustle of the phone being picked up again.
I've been doing so much fucking googling on mute swans, it's ridiculous. I am not a researcher. This is not what I enjoy. I am also not a zoologist. I'm literally here just for the money and…
Why am I complaining to this recording that I'm going to have to listen to later? This is so stupid. I'm an idiot and wasting my own time. But I guess I'm worried and not even Oli wants to hear this much about the damn swans, so who else am I left with than myself?
Though saying it all out loud does make me feel a little better. Maybe this can double as a journal of sorts for me. Would take a fucking load longer to listen back to, though I can always skip shit when writing the logs later. Or just have it all play on like two times speed or something.
All things to consider. Later. Not now whilst recording.
Anyway. What I was trying to record outside earlier was that I am concerned about the swans and recording their behavior. I haven't seen them do what they'd been doing earlier, and I can't even really describe or explain what it looked like now. They were just doing different swan things compared to the swan things they usually did first thing in the morning, which does make sense considering the weather fucking with us and all. But now I'm in here and there's been some time, and I have no idea what I would put into the logs about this.
Guess I'll just have to... heh. Guess I'll have to figuratively weather the literal storm, much like them, and then I'll go and hope we've still got everyone accounted for after it has passed. After all, the damn things have survived this long, right? Right.
Well. Here's hoping we don't lose power with this, because I sure as hell don't have the blankets to keep warm in this monstrosity of a castle as it is, and the fires only warm you so much before you have to run back out into the cold to get more wood.
Okay. Enough blathering on. I should let the phone charge the rest of the way in any case. Back again tomorrow, I guess.
End of recording.
Chapter 3: December 3
Notes:
I really enjoyed writing today's chapter, and reading it through again now had me giggling as well, so hopefully you find it just as entertaining.
Love love love!!!
Chapter Text
December 3
Recording begins, 10:27 am.
Well.
A crash of thunder sounds quickly followed by a squeak of surprise from Louis before several rolls of thunder echo with increasingly lower volume.
Bloody hell, that one was close. Fuck.
A deep breath is taken followed by a five second pause, then a slow exhale that causes static to sound in the recording, as if it was blown over the microphone.
Right. So. As I was trying to say.
Clears throat.
The power somehow has stayed on through all this so far, which is great, but I've been kept busy with the number of leaks in this place. Most seem to be pretty slow leaks, which is helpful. Less worrying about keeping on top of them whilst I make sure I've not missed any, but still not very fun to have to remember to empty each of them every four hours or so.
The swans left sometime yesterday afternoon before the sun set but after my last recording. I swear animals have a sense about weather things, maybe they're just more sensitive to the shifts and changing of the different pressure systems or summat? Like, I know their brains aren't that big and can therefore only process so much, so how do they know? Anyway. Within an hour of my noticing they'd left, the storm hit and it's been pelting ever since. We're honestly incredibly fucking lucky that the weather warmed right before the storm came in, because I cannot imagine how much snow this would have dropped on us if it had been colder than this. I know this general area of Scotland isn't unused to snow, but fuck. You know?
Shit. I just saw the time. I didn't realize how late it was because with how bad the storm is, the sun certainly never rose and it's almost as dark as it would be during the night. I know it's basically winter and all, shortest days of the year and all that, but this is bad even for Scotland, you know?
Thirty five seconds of silence, broken occasionally by the sound of wind or a loud exhale.
Tried looking at a map to see what weather alert level we're at here and can't manage to find where I'm even located. I think we're at amber level, but there's some spots that are red nearby, and I can't tell if I'm part of that or not. Might have to finally reinstall that weather app for my phone. Quite hate feeling like it's just another way for people to track my location and information about me, but at this point I'm about bloody ready to let them have it, you know? What are they going to be able to do with it, anyway?
The sound of something hard hitting the floor and making a racket interrupts before he can continue speaking.
Shit shit shit, fucking pain in my ass that hurt! God!
Louis grunts and groans in pain before shuffling and various clunking sounds are heard, lasting 43 seconds.
There. Fucking cold as hell castle in this fucking storm. I keep forgetting I brought in as much firewood as I did which meant I stacked it anywhere I could possibly think might still keep it fairly easily accessible to the fireplaces I might need to use. Had to keep moving different stacks, though, as new leaks popped up to make sure it stayed dry, even inside.
I know I complain about it, but I don't actually hate this place, you know. It's quite nicely furnished and all and I don't mind too much having all of this space to meself. I mean, it sure beats a one room flat I still couldn't afford in London, but I would like it better if it were warmer and consistently dry.
Loud boom of thunder sounds, almost completely drowning out another curse.
Fucking hell, mate, could you calm down out there already? Shit.
Okay. I'm going to end this now before I get to talking about anything that pops into my head. I obviously haven't seen the swans, nor am I going to today. Hope they've got enough food foraged or whatever to last them through this. So, uh, nothing more to really add to the report for today I guess.
Louis, out.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 11:21 pm.
I've been trying to sleep for hours now because I'm bored. The power has stayed on but the internet is out, so I am suddenly very aware of how little I have to entertain myself with when I don't have a WiFi connection. Bloody shame, that is. Need to stockpile some books and DVDs, but I don't even know if I've got a player for the TV. Should look.
Anyway, since I've not had much to keep me busy, I've been spending most of my time just watching the storm out the window like some Victorian damsel in distress, and therefore I was able to spot the absolute lunatics wandering about on the hiking path earlier, which got me thinking.
If someone wanted to commit a murder, this is the time to do it, you know what I mean? I mean, come on. I'm away from pretty much all civilization and there's a bloody big storm on, so no one would EXPECT there to be hikers or anyone going around in this, especially as there was quite a bit of warning about it, plus even if there was security in the castle, which there is but not bloody cameras that record anything of use, the internet is down so it wouldn't have anywhere to save the information to.
So, if anyone finds me dead and this is the only record they have of me before it happens, I guess I should just say I'm Louis William Tomlinson and I don't want to die. Find my murderers and give them hell.
Or justice. Whatever.
Okay. Enough paranoia for today. Or not. There's so much going through my brain right now… Maybe I need more weed. Yeah. The weed will calm this down. Hopefully.
Fuck.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 11:28 pm.
If I really was murdered and the authorities are listening to this, I was totally joking about the weed. I definitely didn't use any kind of illegal substance because I'm a good, law abiding citizen and all that shit. Pay my taxes and everything. Don't arrest me posthumously or whatever. Thanks.
End of recording.
Chapter 4: December 4
Notes:
Day 4! I was going to say something here, but it's one of those days that I've already gotten distracted three times since pasting today's chapter in, so I'm gonna just post it now so I don't think (again) that I've gotten the chapter up for you all, and it's still just sitting here in draft lollll
Happy Thursday!
Chapter Text
December 4
Recording begins, 2:12pm.
The worst of the storm has passed, thank fuck. It's still raining like mad, but the wind has died down so I'll take it.
I wasn't sure if the swans would return as soon as the lightning and wind were done, but they've not shown themselves at all yet today, so I'm betting they'll let the whole thing pass before coming back. I have to wonder how long that will be, though. At what point should I get worried? Like, I know they're technically wild and can forage for themselves and all that, but they are used to having their feed given to them regularly as well. How much can we actually count on them to be able to follow their instincts and feed themselves sufficiently on their own, you know?
I know I was given an entire encyclopedia of information specific to my bevy all in a fucking massive binder when I got here, but I haven't any clue where it might be at this point. It's been about a month, and quite a busy one at that, so it could be anywhere. Maybe that's what I should focus on today since the internet is still out.
Which, by the way, I found an old school boombox, the kind I used to have back in sixth form. It still works, if you can believe it, which is great because I only have three songs actually loaded on my phone, so without internet I was going a bit mad without anything to even listen to when I was already out of options for streaming and such.
Of course, all that is really coming in clearly at the moment is the local station that is playing nonstop Christmas tunes. There's only so much rocking around the Christmas tree that can be done before it might be worse than silence, you know what I mean?
Soft chuckle, then a sigh.
Anyway. I went out to be sure that there hadn't been too much damage done to the roof or my car since I'd heard a real bad cracking sound that made me think a tree had come down sometime yesterday afternoon, and I was right. The old massive tree on the opposite side of the castle from the loch looks like it's lost about half of itself, split almost down the middle. Thankfully it missed the house... Can I call the castle a house? Anyway, it missed it and isn't anywhere close to the drive, so it didn't damage anything else, which is lucky for me, but it is in a state itself. There's also quite a bit of other trees that lost branches and such, some the size of small trees in and of themselves, so I'll definitely need a crew out here to take care of a lot of that. I'll send in the information along with the weekly report, since the storm should be passed by then and hopefully the internet back up at that point.
While I was out checking the property, fully decked in my wellies and bright yellow rain slicker, I saw what might be the same idiots walking along the hiking trail as I saw earlier closer to the height of the storm. They were wearing the same shit I was, full on rain slickers and all, and I know for a fact there's not anything nearby, so they are well dedicated to be going off for such a distance in this weather. I cannot understand what is going through their minds to be going about on what has to be pure mud with how it winds through the fields like that. Like, it must not only be exhausting slogging through it all but the wind and rain and cold on top of it all? I'm not sure I'd be up for the hiking trail even in the perfect weather, much less like this, fully kitted out in the heavy unbreathable layers and shit. Fucking hell.
Anyway. Guess it's a relief to know they survived the horrible weather they were out in before. Can't imagine it was any other group of three out in this weather, so it's gotta be the same ones. I just can't understand… I mean, it's like people who love running, you know what I mean? Those truly barmy ones who run fucking marathons and some shit. Like you honestly get enjoyment out of that? How? That's the same way I feel about these people hiking in this weather while it's fully pissing down.
I might not be fully sane to have taken on this job and living here alone and all that, but I bet I've got more sense than that lot.
And with that, I'll sign off. Fuck knows this whole thing was pointless for my report at this point anyway. This recording thing was maybe a bit of a daft choice if things continue like this.
End of recording.
Chapter 5: December 5
Notes:
Happy Friday!!
Chapter Text
December 5
Recording begins, 5:44pm.
Before I get started on this, and yeah, yeah, I know. I started this whole thing so I could have an easier way of remembering things for my logs I've gotta send in weekly, and none of this shit matters for that, but it's kind of nice to talk to someone, even if I am the only one who will be listening to this in the end.
So. Anyway, before I get started on the shit that matters, I just want to say that I know we're nearing the shortest days of the year and all, and thank fuck for that, but I will never forgive the sun for deciding to set so fucking early. It's not even six and it's been proper dark for two hours now. The fuck is that? God.
Okay, so. The storm is finally gone and the debris we've been left with is… well it sure is something. I'm going to be working outside for days taking all the branches and bits to turn into firewood and kindling and shit, not to mention the rest of the cleanup.
Thankfully I didn't even have to send word about the tree damage, as a company called me already saying they've been assigned to check in and come take care of the major things they knew were likely needed after that wind. They should be able to make it out here by Monday at the latest, but we'll see. From the sounds of it, there was quite a bit that is higher priority than just some trees on the land out here. Get the ones that are literally in people's roofs first, you know what I mean?
Sigh.
So yeah, that's kind of nice to know it's already arranged.
Since I woke up to the sun shining — through some clouds, mind, but shining nonetheless — I thought the swans might have made their way back to me, but they haven't. I did make sure that their usual gathering areas were cleared of the worst, though I did leave some of the smaller bits and bobs for them to use for nests, if they wanted to. Mostly leaves and things I thought would be soft and kinda springy, you know? Maybe I should have left more, but I need to read up about what the hell they actually use for that kind of shit. Maybe they think all the broken brush and shit is just trash. What do I know?
The good news is literally fifteen minutes ago I finally found the fucking massive binder of information Steve left for me. I didn't even crack the thing open before now, mostly because I forgot where I put it and I was overwhelmed enough with just adjusting to this place that reading that much shit about the swans felt like too much, you know what I mean? It's a lot! Anyway, when I found it, I opened the damn thing and found that he has things labeled and nice subject dividers and shit like they always tried and failed to get me to use during school. These don't have the nice colors, though. They're all just clear.
That's a bit of a disappointment, if I'm honest. I mean, can't a guy show a bit of personality if he's living in a castle in Scotland all alone caring for a fucking… oh shit, what's it called again? Not a flock, but a… a… bevy! Yes, a bevy. Can't a guy show a bit of personality if he's living in a castle in Scotland, all alone, caring for a bevy of swans? I think he should.
Sounds of paper shifting against itself and pages turning are heard in the background for almost a minute.
Oh, hey, there's actually more information here about general patterns for the swans during storms. I'm gonna go and read that. The internet was only so helpful with what little searching I did before, and honestly that was kind of frustrating and I gave up quickly. At least here I know the information is not only reliable but specific to my particular colony.
And did I mention that not only was the sun shining this morning when I woke up, but the internet was back? That was a relief.
Almost a minute of silence.
Alright. Well. Guess I'll be back tomorrow after the fucking longest night known to man has passed. Or one of them, at least.
Another sigh.
End of recording.
Chapter 6: December 6
Notes:
Hiya! Happy Saturday! Today's chapter is a pretty short one, but don't you worry... I've only got a few days more already pre-written at this point, but that's because things pick up quite a bit here soon lolol so enjoy the short sweet ditties while you can? hehe
Chapter Text
December 6
Recording begins, 8:49am.
Oh my god, I'm so relieved. The swans don't look to be back, which isn't surprising considering it's barely sunrise and they sure weren't here last night, but it looks like it can take them up to four or five days, depending on the severity of the storm and how far away they went to take shelter, for them to return to the castle side of the loch. I really didn't want to have to phone someone and let them know we'd lost the whole fucking colony on my watch. This is great news.
This binder is also actually quite interesting. Don't know that I'll be able to actually remember anything I'm reading here and will probably have to look things up daily for… well for at least the next few months, but at least I know it's here and it's not dead boring to read as well.
Anyway, I've got quite a bit to get done out on the property whilst waiting for the return of my bevy, so I best be getting out there for it. Here we go.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 4:01pm.
Fuuuuuuuck. I'm going to be so sore tomorrow. I've never done so much physical labor in my life. I'm already feeling it in my shoulders from holding up the fucking chainsaw for so long as I tried my best to take care of the limbs and branches that weren't too big for me to handle, but there were so many. So. Many. Branches.
And that's before you even take into account the cutting of firewood. My supply had dwindled far enough I couldn't wait for the company to come and take care of the big tree and hope to let them do most of the hard work and stock me up with that, which meant I had to go ahead and split some wood for myself and first of all, I hate doing that. It's so much work and so much harder than it looks, and it already looks fucking hard!
But seriously. Like, the ax itself weighs a decent amount, but then you have to swing it hard enough to get the momentum required to actually do damage to the wood, and you have to try to aim it all on top of that, and it's just impossible. I hate it. Took me hours to do a measly amount, and I know if literally anyone heard me saying any of this they'd be taking the piss, but honestly I'd like to see any of them do it.
Silence for 24 seconds.
Okay, for real though, I would pay to watch them try. The sheer comedy of it, oh my god, but also it would save me some energy, which would be fucking fantastic. God. I need to watch them all attempt and fail to split the firewood.
Brief pause lasting only 7 seconds.
Except Liam. And maybe Zayn. Those two would probably be proper backwoodsmen or something and would excel at it from the get go. Fucking likely lumberjacks. God. And now here I am ranting and raving about hypotheticals to do with my mates. I'm clearly exhausted and losing it.
Anyway. My bevy haven't returned and I've barely dented the amount of work that needs done on the land, but I call the day good and we will see if I can even move enough tomorrow to get anything more done.
Fuuuuuucking hell. Louis, out.
End of recording.
Chapter 7: December 7
Chapter Text
December 7
Recording begins, 4:55pm.
Oh my god. I just…
Silence, not even breathing can be heard, for 1 minute and 18 seconds.
So. The swans returned.
Slightly hysterical laughter begins quietly but builds quickly lasting 53 seconds until he speaks again.
Fucking hell did the swans return. Okay, so. Ehm… I had finally gotten myself moving enough to start working more on clean up by late morning, and I had just gotten to the furthest part of the property when I heard the honking that I knew had to be the swans.
Being sore as fuck, there was only so much running that would be done in the first place, but I was also in wellies because everything is still muddy and wet as fuck, so yeah. I took my time getting there, but as I got closer I was a bit thrown.
The swans can be noisy when they're going at it, but they're not too bad. I mean, they're called mute swans for a reason, right? It's not because they don't make any sound at all, but it's like when a musical instrument uses a mute. A violin or piano or trumpet will use a mute or dampener or whatever the hell they call them, and it just kind of tones the sound down a bit, yeah? Gives it a bit of a different tone or whatever. And that's what the swans are like. Unlike other swans, whose calls can apparently carry for a fucking long distance, mute swans' doesn't. So while they're noisy, they're only so noisy, you know what I mean?
But these swans were loud. Far too loud for the size of bevy we have. So I was curious if the swans that I was hearing weren't actually my swans? But that didn't really make sense, because the swans that come for winter don't really come here. We're too far inland for them.
Anyway. It was definitely my swans. But they brought some friends.
Laughter ensues again followed by a quick sigh.
Okay, more than just a few friends. They almost doubled the number. The swans that are part of the bevy here have all been marked by the specialists who keep tabs on them and ensure they're healthy and such, so we know by their little bands on their legs if they're ours, and yeah. It looks like all of ours returned, but an entire group of unmarked ones came along too.
I'm not sure if they're going to be here permanently or if they're just here for a short time, so we will see. But as I was already running a bit low on feed for our bevy, it sure looks like I'll be heading into town tomorrow for feed to last us until the shipment comes in at the end of next week. And I might have to have them increase the amount for that, just in case. Double the number makes quite a difference in the amount needed. Can't really just fudge that one.
So. Uh. Yeah. I cannot believe the fucking number of them out there. Right before the sun set, I looked out at the loch and it's almost like a blanket of white out there.
I just hope this doesn't cause any issues. Healthwise, and all that, I mean. Steve kept a detailed list of what illnesses are most common to the colony and when they're most likely to break out, what it looks like, all that. But when It's these new guys, we don't know about them. We don't know what kinds of illness they might be carrying from wherever they came from. I hope they're healthy, but there's always the chance...
But that's not all, right? Because there's also the health relationship wise with the bevy. These swans can be incredibly territorial, you know? Or at least that's what I've read. I've been doing a lot of reading from the binder and it's been incredibly helpful. It's been a lot, but yeah. Uh. Just. Yeah.
That said, I guess that while they're territorial, it's usually only when they're mated or nesting? So maybe a colony as large as ours isn't the same way and is more welcoming to others joining them, so long as they're not mated or nesting either? God, I have so many questions and I don't even know if it's covered in the binder. Can I just google this information and find it sitting out there, easy to read?
I'll be honest. I don't know if I could find it, but if I could I do have the feeling it would be filled with scientific mumbo jumbo, and not in the way that I don't believe it's true. Just in the way that it's a whole other language that I am not familiar with.
Fuck. I'm tired.
22 seconds filled with occasional sounds of breathing.
How the hell am I meant to take care of this many swans and the castle on my own? I barely know about my swans, much less the new guys, and that's without even considering all the information I should probably have in order to know how to actually give them what they need. I just hope they continue mostly taking care of themselves. Cause they're still technically wild animals, so they can do that. Yep.
More tired chuckling before a whispered curse.
Fuck.
End of recording.
Chapter 8: December 8
Notes:
I've been looking forward to this chapter posting and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it! hehehe
Chapter Text
December 8
Recording begins, 9:22 am.
Rustling sounds before a couple of failed attempts to start a car.
Fucking hell. Just start, will ya? Please?
Third failed attempt to start the car followed by some coughing sounds and the revving of an engine turning over.
There we are. Thank fuck. Okay.
More rustling followed by the sounds of a car shifting gears followed by the crunching of gravel.
I really should have waited to start the recording, but figured it would be best to just start it so I can talk as I drive into town.
52 seconds filled only with the sounds of shifting gears and tires going over gravel along with the rustling sounds often associated with movement in a winter coat.
This is kind of bloody awful driving in a puffer, but it's too damn cold still in the car. Probably won't get warmed up until I get to town either, so, here we are.
A clicker starts, followed by the end of tires on gravel.
Alright, now I'm off the drive, I can get started fully on this.
So the two swans who had been fighting are apparently still at it. Didn't see any new full on marks, but there were some bent feathers on the same guys. I'm going to call them Zayn and Niall, cause why the fuck not. Those two used to fight as much as they get along when we were younger, so seems apt, and if they're going to continue to cause problems it's easier if they've got names rather than just calling them Swan A and Swan B or whatever.
Then again, that does set me up nicely for having a swan named Swansea. Get it? Swan C and Swansea?
Drawn out sigh and a quiet groan.
Can't believe I'm out here making the worst jokes known to man on a recording about swans for my own self. At least no one will need to hear how fucking pathetic I am. That's an upside to it all.
Okay, so Zayn and Niall fought again, and Zayn and his bird went off a ways, but still not far. That said, even with the swans fairly motionless, I think I got a final count of around seventy.
Can you fucking believe? Seventy fucking swans? That's ridiculous. I already sent an email letting them know we'll need an increased amount of feed, at least for the next shipment, and that I'd keep them updated on whether these new swans stay past the next few days.
Speaking pauses as the sound of wipers screeching against the windscreen comes through followed by some muttered cursing and the clicker starting up.
Fuck. Hate when I do that.
Anyway, I did as much reading as I could about colonial nesting last night, and seventy is… well it's a lot. Not unheard of, but definitely not a size that is usually kept for any amount of time. So I'm wondering if the group just came after meeting up during the storm and will head on their way after a week or so. Guess we will find out.
So. I was low on food for myself after being holed up longer than expected due to the storm and I'm definitely going to run out of feed before Friday if I don't restock, so I'm going to shop for everything I think we're gonna need for the next bit and hopefully can avoid running back into town until the end of the week.
It is kind of nice to get away from the castle. I don't mind being on my own and all, but when all you've got is the stinky swans leaving their droppings everywhere to keep you company, well that's a bit rough I suppose.
Anyway. Gonna do the shop for me and my bevy and then get back to work on the clean up efforts. Which will now include more power washing of the walkways, because the swans have already been at work messing the fucking sidewalks. It's disgusting. Glad we have a power washer at the castle so I can do that regularly and not let it pile up.
And maybe I should do some dishes as well. Been letting that pile up on me and I'm afraid I'm out of spoons now.
More rustling of the coat comes through.
Fuck. The car's gotten warm and now I'm overheating in the puffer.
Four minutes, twenty seconds of silence broken only by the sounds of the car and grunting with a significant amount of rustling heard.
Thank fuck. A stoplight to allow me to get out of that thing.
More rustling.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 4:37 pm.
Alright, well. Where to start.
Shops were fucking packed and the Tesco was out of most of what I needed. Apparently the entire population of the surrounding areas came out for the essentials and the shops've not been able to get restocked just yet, so I had to run elsewhere to get the rest of my shit. That was well fun.
Hate a crowded grocery.
Anyway, got the feed needed. Right brand and everything, so that's a relief. Already got a call from the supervisor about the swans and they said they'd be sending out a vet later today to make sure none of the swans are displaying signs of illness or injury after the storm and just do a quick visual check of the new swans to hold them over until the usual vet check next week. If the new swans are still here then, they'll have a whole group of people come out to try to wrangle them and get the new swans marked.
So that's cool.
Got back just in time to see the postman trying to deliver something that required a signature. Haven't had a chance to open it yet, but it's a heavy little box so I should check on that later. Probably just from Oli or summat, but never know.
Reason I didn't check on it is the crew to take care of the trees were there, and it was a whole fucking crew. Which was nice. My measly efforts to clean things up looked childish compared to how much they'd gotten done just while I'd been at the shops. What a relief to know that'll all be done shortly. The sounds of the chipper and everything else they had going has already started to go down by this point, so that's nice.
The guys were nice, as well. Good humored and all as we had quick chats during their short breaks to warm up, have a tea, use the loo. All that shit.
But then I was out with the swans trying to increase the feed left since they'd already decimated what I'd left them earlier, and some hiker came wandering over with his mate, and was like… I don't even know. Trying to give me advice?
The guy was going on and on about this fucking duck he kept calling Long Boi? He was apparently an Indian Runner duck. I know, it sounds mad that I actually know not just the name but the actual breed of duck, but when I say this fucker wouldn't shut up, I mean it.
I would have run him off earlier, don't really care for mad ones feeling at home on the property and all that, if you know what I mean, but despite his stupidly long legs and fucking ridiculous height, he was kind of nice to look at, so I let him go on. Probably too long, but I was out there paying more attention to the swans than I was to him at any rate.
Mostly. God, he had this brown hair that kind of curled where it was poking out of his beanie, and despite the fact he was wearing the most ridiculous running gear like those fucking leggings beneath tiny running shorts and all that shit, he was just. Well. Really cute.
As he would not stop going on about his love of that fucking duck, that apparently died or something? That part is a bit murky for me, because honestly I noticed that Zayn must have gotten into it with Niall again as Niall had even MORE bent feathers than he did before, but now Zayn and his bird are just. Gone. I mean, probably not completely gone, but I couldn't find them. They'll probably resurface by tonight looking for more food. If any is left.
Deep inhale followed by a slow exhale.
So yeah. The cute fucking rando runner guy just kept going on about how I was caring for the swans when they're wild animals or something? I still don't know if he took issue with it or if he was just trying to start a conversation. The clean up guys had gotten started on the trees near the loch by then and I couldn't really hear him all that well. And then his mate that wasn't quite as freakishly tall as he was but still tall enough as well as another damn long legged guy, all in the weird ass running gear and neon winter caps and shit, came wandering over saying they needed to get back to running or they'd never make it back to the hotel in time for dinner or something.
They're all English, two of them northerners like me, but honestly. Is there some draw for the tall freaks to come run around my castle in Scotland or something? I was able to hear some of their conversation as they left, and it seems they were only up here for a few days, but they knew the paths well and I'm wondering if these were the crazy people who were out hiking during the storm.
Didn't bother asking them because I'll never see them again and.. well. For as attractive as they all were, they were all fucking weird, weren't they?
God. What a day. More interaction with other human beings than I've had in over a month, and I have to say I'm not used to that anymore. Takes more energy than I realized now I'm out of practice with it. Maybe I really am better suited to living along with some fucking mute swans to living with people.
Is that all? I feel like there was more I was going to say on here, but I got distracted talking about the random running man who could not shut up about the fucking duck. Hmm.
17 seconds of silence.
Oh well. If I remember something else I'll just come back and add it in I guess.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 5:02 pm.
I remembered what else it was! The vet showed up just before sundown, for all the good that did them. They had thought I'd been exaggerating about the numbers, so it was a bit nice to see their shock when they realized I wasn't.
Thankfully they said that based on what they were able to see in the light we had available, the new swans didn't look to have any visible health issues and if they'd already been together for longer than a day or two with these numbers and no issues outside of Niall and Zayn, which were already going on before these new additions, they didn't see there being any problems with having these new swans joining the bevy, temporarily or otherwise.
They will be sending out an entire team for the full health checks later, though. Which is good. I can only imagine they'll need it.
Okay. It's been a long day. I'm going to go eat and get some rest.
End of recording.
Chapter Text
December 9
Recording begins, 6:22 am.
Croaking vocalizations are heard around a lot of rustling of fabric and the squeaking of a spring. A throat clears immediately followed by a loud animal honk and a resulting squeak from Louis.
A fucking swan! Is in my room?
Repeated honking sounds getting closer.
What the fuck!? How'd you even get in here? Did you break a window and wander up here or some shit? I'm still in bed!
More honking.
Oh my god, are you, like, trying to respond to me?
A single honk.
What the fuuuuuuuck?
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 7:01 am.
So I obviously recorded the bit earlier because I thought a swan had somehow gotten into my room.
In my defense, considering I'm living in a fucking castle in the middle of Scotland and it's fucking December! In case! No one noticed it's fucking freezing outside! And winter and all that shit! And I am literally being paid to care for my bevy of swans out here, so really my initial conclusion actually really does make sense. Makes more sense than what apparently happened in my own personal opinion, but clearly! Clearly! No one fucking asked me!
Oh my god. Fucking hell. I just…
Fast paced breathing verging on wheezing is heard, shuddering in and out as it begins to slow down with apparent effort. Eventually the breathing becomes more regular and even before slightly hysterical laughter ensues, the whole lasting 7 minutes 9 seconds.
So. Uhm.
Another deep breath in and out, interspersed with quiet laughter.
Oh my fucking god.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 9:22 am.
I've had some time to digest everything that happened this morning now. I'm more fully awake, had two cups of coffee with the really good creamer I splurged on when I last went into town, and I fed my bevy. I'll talk more about them later, hopefully, if I remember. Zayn and Niall have been fighting again, for fuck's sake.
But that's not important. I mean, it is, obviously. But I have to explain everything that happened this morning as it happened. Because I just don't think I can…
Three loud honks are heard.
Yes, I know. Thank you very much. I'm trying to detail it all so I don't forget like the fucking useless pothead I am, thanks.
Two softer honks.
That's what I thought.
Anyway. So. I woke up and thought a swan got into my room. Obviously. Which was why I was trying to record initially. I wanted to see if I could tell which swan it was and how they got in there so I could immediately get the necessary repairs scheduled and figure out a way to keep it from happening again in the meantime.
Except the fucker wouldn't shut up.
Loud, drawn out honk.
See what I mean?
Repeated honking begins and doesn't stop, Louis begins speaking over it.
Okay, okay, okay! Just shut uuuuuuup! For fuck's sake, will you just let me speak? This is for my own personal records, anyway! No one else is going to fucking hear it, alright? It's not like I'm slandering you to the whole fucking nation or anything! And if you just let me get this out then I'll be able to set the record straight about you soon enough, alright?
For fuck's sake! Thank you! Finally.
So. She's chatty, yeah?
Single, short, angry sounding honk.
Oh, is that what's been bothering you? Are you not a girl?
Single honk.
Oh. Well, my apologies, sir.
He is chatty.
That better?
Single honk.
Good. Right.
Now we've got that sorted. He kept honking up a storm and I couldn't find a single window or door open or broken or anything that could have possibly allowed his entrance, and it was then I noticed that while the coloring is quite similar to a swan, the details are not.
And when I looked closer I realized it's not a fucking swan at all. It's a goose! And not just any goose, it's a soulmate goose!
Short, staccato honks, almost sounding like chittering, are heard.
Was that a laugh, mate?
Single honk.
What a laugh. I got myself not only a soulmate goose, but a soulmate goose with a fucking sense of humor. Fucking hell.
Oh god, it took a shit. Fuck.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 9:38 am.
So. Now that's taken care of. I'm going to have to invest in a fuckton of those puppy training mats or something or figure out how to get a nappy to stay on this guy if he's going to insist on being with me all the time. I'm not going to be mopping the floors of goose shit all day until I get this figured out.
So, while he's distracted checking out my pantry where everything is definitely sealed shut and not able to be gotten into, I'll finish my ramblings about this.
The issue with my fucking soulmate goose showing up now is that most days I don't see anyone. I don't run into anyone. I am completely and utterly alone. I might get a glimpse in the distance of some hikers, but generally speaking I am completely alone.
Yesterday, as we all know — we being me, myself and I, in case you were wondering — I had the most insane day where I ran into a fucking massive amount of people. Between the different shops I went to alone I had to have walked past if not interacted with at least fifty people, but I feel like that's low balling it. The Tesco was fucking packed and that's before I even account for the others.
And then there were all the tree chopper guys, I think there were like fifteen of them. And then the fucking doughnut who wouldn't stop talking about that damn Indian Runner duck and his two mates… like. My soulmate goose could literally be here because of any one of those people.
And I don't actually know any of them. Nor do I know how to contact any of them. Like, how am I meant to go about figuring this out?
Oh, fucking hell, he got into the cereal!
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 9:21 pm.
I'm going to try my best to summarize everything that actually happened with the swans now, if that's okay?
Two honks.
I know you clearly think I need to be getting to bed, but this is the part I'm meant to be doing to help with the paperwork for my actual fucking job, you get me?
Single honk.
Thank you. Okay, so.
Oh god. He's shit on the floor again.
End of recording.
Notes:
tehehehehe
Chapter 10: December 10
Chapter Text
December 10
Recording begins, 11:54 am.
Well. Goose Oli and I are getting along just fine, aren't we, Oli?
Two honks.
That was a bit rude, I think. Uncalled for.
Short, staccato honks that sound like laughter.
Yeah, yeah. Fine.
So, yeah. Unlike what goose Oli seems to think, we're getting along alright. Ran back to town to get the puppy training pads and see if they had pet nappies or if I'd have to run to the store to try regular ones. Turns out they do make them, but they're specialized products, so I'm definitely are not ordering those. I'd have to get them online, which isn't a huge deal, but the price was astronomical so. I'll pass on that, thanks.
Did grab a couple of small packages of regular nappies in a couple sizes to see if we can get one to work. If not, then I'll just have to pray the puppy training pads do.
Fucking hell, I hope they do. I'm already over this. I don't know how, but goose shit is somehow worse for me to clean up than swan shit.
Deep breath followed by coughing and a groan.
Mate, that's disgusting.
Short honk.
Yeah, yeah. Whatever.
So, I had a brilliant thought earlier. I mean, I am here taking care of swans, yeah? And here I am, stuck with a soulmate goose who looks like a fucking swan and, one would assume, having at least similar basic needs as a swan. I mean, it seems they eat almost the same shit and all that. I thought why not see if the goose can just… I dunno. Chill with the swans whilst I figure out how the hell I'm meant to narrow down who my soulmate is, yeah?
Outside of the little I did to narrow it down today. Went to the same pet store and ran into the same employees as before, and none of them had a soulmate goose, so. They're out.
Went to the same Tesco as before for the nappies, and there were a couple of people I remembered seeing before, but no soulmate geese around there either.
So that brings the number of people I've officially counted out up to… I don't know. Eight?
Snorts.
Fab. Only something like 78 to go.
Anyway, so I tried to get goose Oli to go with the swans, yeah? After all, human Oli gets along well enough with human Zayn and human Niall, so why wouldn't their fowl counterparts?
One long angry honk.
I do wish you'd let me tell the story myself, mate. It's quite rude to keep interrupting, has no one told you that before?
Two honks.
Mmm. Well I'm telling you now.
Some scuttling sounds heard followed by Louis crying out.
The fuck was that for!? Fucking ouch! Fuck!
More scuttling sounds.
Fucking pecked at me. He's only done that once before and it was well warranted that time considering I'd accidentally kicked him where he was sleeping in the middle of the night. Still feel bad about that one, but he was the one who settled himself down right in the fucking doorway of the loo.
Single honk.
So, in case you hadn't figured it out for yourself by now, yeah. The meshing of the goose with the bevy was… not successful. Both sides were not keen. Clearly the swans felt about as pleased to see him as I was. And still am, I suppose. I mean, the thought of trying to find my soulmate after all that is…
Deep breath in.
Daunting.
Long sigh.
Not that I mind having met my soulmate. Always been a bit of a romantic myself, you know? But it's a bit inconvenient these circumstances, if you know what I mean.
Long honk.
Mate. Come on. Do you actually think this is the best way to go about having me find my soulmate again?
Quiet honk.
Mm. That's what I thought.
Anyway.
Five seconds of silence.
What was I saying?
About twenty seconds of humming and mumbling to himself.
Oh yeah. So I've decided I need to come up with a plan, because from my understanding when a soulmate goose arrives, they're generally calm enough for a few days but quickly lose patience, no matter what is going on in the life of the person the goose has appeared to. For instance, Oli isn't gonna care that I've got a surprise doubling in size of my bevy and all the chaos that entails.
Which is annoying. How is he gonna know if I'm trying my best to find my soulmate? He's a fucking goose!
Loud honking.
Oh my god, fine! Fine. Maybe he will know. He seems to understand me just fine. Which is certainly a surprise. The only times I've ever met a soulmate goose, they seemed just as wild as the swans I care for. They've never responded the way Oli does. Maybe I got me a special brand of soulmate goose since mine is a bit of a special situation, yeah?
Single honk.
Yeah, I'm sure you do think you're special. You would.
Single honk.
Yeah. Well. I'd appreciate you being patient with me as I do my best to figure out who out of the hundred people I met on Monday are my soulmate, yeah? It'll be difficult considering I can't really leave the castle for more than a day trip.
Single longer honk.
I appreciate that.
Alright. Well. Zayn and his bird are still missing, but the vet team is meant to come tomorrow, so hopefully they'll return by then. If not, they'll at least let me know if it's worrisome or what. I have to say, Niall is healing well so hopefully Zayn is too.
Otherwise, the swans seem to be perfectly happy and adapting well to the new numbers. The new members look to have joined the bevy without any issues. There's not been any fighting and if anything, the bevy looks to be getting along and actually happier than they were before, whatever that means.
So… yeah. Okay. Gonna go out and power wash a different path I didn't get to the other day, and see if I can figure out a plan for reaching out and asking more people from Monday about whether they have possibly had a goose show up unexpectedly. Yep.
Scuttling followed by a soft chuckle and the static sound of shifting clothing.
Thanks, mate. I appreciate your support.
Hissing sounds, clearly from Louis and not the goose.
Now just fucking shit on the damn pads, will you?!
Single honk.
End of recording.
Chapter 11: December 11
Notes:
Thank you once more for continuing to read along! It's such a joy to read your comments and thoughts as we go along :D
Hope you enjoy today's installment!
Chapter Text
December 11
Recording begins, 3:23 pm.
Well today feels like it was incredibly productive on a lot of fronts, actually. So that's nice.
Still haven't a clue who my soulmate might be, but it's fine. It's whatever.
Soft honk.
You're right, I do sound a little bitter. Maybe I am, for all that, but no need to call me out on it.
So the swans are doing great. Zayn and his bird are still missing, but the vets didn't seem to be worried at all. That's normal behavior with mute swans who are mating or nesting, and considering it's a pair of them, that tracks. They might just have decided to leave the bevy, and that's to be expected. They might return later, but the likelihood isn't high.
I'm kind of sad about that, honestly. Not sure why, considering I've got something like 35 swans to replace those two. I'm ridiculous.
So yeah, they went ahead and gave the new swans different colored bands, just for easier tracking of them all, and it looks like we've actually got three of our swans from the original bevy missing. One had been getting weaker and they weren't sure how much longer it would last based on their last check on him, so they're guessing that other male might not have survived the storm while the female and Zayn are the ones who've mated and left the bevy. We may never know, but I kind of hope we do. Feel like if one did pass then it's only right we at least give them a moment of respect or summat.
The vets looked at me like I'd maybe been living here alone a bit too long when I suggested it, though, so. Maybe I won't do a moment of remembrance or whatever. Oli certainly didn't think we should.
Which brings me to the idea that maybe the vet who came on Monday may be my soulmate. She is not, though she was quite fond of Oli and said he was far more well behaved than her own soulmate goose had been. So. Thanks for that, mate.
Soft honk.
Yeah, I know. We wore you out today with all that running around, didn't we?
So, yeah. I helped wrangle the swans once they taught me what to do and it actually helped a lot with learning how to handle Oli as well. So that's nice. Only got mangled a couple times for my trouble, and finished up with enough time for me to get to calling the company that helped with the trees and other shit that needed taken care of on the land from Monday.
They were quite nice about it, and reached out to the teams they'd sent out to me to make sure no one had needed to come to work with a brand new soulmate goose in tow, and they hadn't.
So… I guess next attempt is to see if I can catch the postman and see if he's got a goose with him. If not him, then I'm left with either figuring out what to do about the people I might have passed or interacted with at the various shops in town or the hikers.
Come to think of it, I've not seen the hikers the last few days. That's a touch concerning, yeah? I mean, they were intense enough to likely be the ones who were out in the midst of a horrible storm, yet they've not been out now?
But again, there's also the fact that they were all clearly English. Maybe they don't live here in Scotland and just went back home. Would seem likely, really.
Soft sigh followed by silence only briefly broken by breathing sounds or that of the goose moving around.
Alright. Well. Guess I'll see if I can start brainstorming ways to reach out to people I may have run into at the shops on Monday as well as the hikers, who might have left the area as well.
Fuck. I'm so tired. I have no idea how I'm meant to get all of that done while also taking care of everything here.
Oh, good news! I hadn't mentioned it considering everything going on, but I learned when the tree guys were here that the leaks in the roof were due to a part of the roof having gotten torn apart a bit, probably due to the wind which is why I hadn't had any issues with leaking previous to that.
I was able to get that taken care of today, as well. It was a quick fix, thank fuck, because the roof had only recently been redone, so that's great. Love that. And they even came in to make sure nothing inside had been damaged too badly. There was some water damage in the uppermost floor, but considering I'd been told to keep from there anyway, I was never going to find that or be much put out by it. So they've gone ahead and let the powers that be know about it, and I don't have to think about it at all.
A relief. I don't need anything more to think about right about now.
I have been ordered by human Oli to decorate for Christmas, though. He says I can't be a, and I quote, depressed lazy fuck whenever I do find my soulmate. Granted, it makes sense, I suppose, considering if we are going to spend Christmas together they'll be needing to come spend it here.
Sigh.
I hate when he's right, and he is more often than not. It's a pain, if I'm honest. Maybe I can dig around the storage rooms where Steve indicated they had some bits and bobs for the house, should I choose to use them, and see if something festive might be included.
If not, then I can always grab some things when I go to town again later. I'll definitely be needing more of the puppy training pads. Oli has taken very well to those and we've learned the nappies are a definite no go, for both him and me. I could barely get one on in any way that could be deemed proper and when I did, he was not pleased. And fair enough.
Short honk.
Yeah, I know mate. We won't do that again. But I do appreciate you using the pads instead.
So.
No speaking for one minute, 15 seconds.
There's a lot of space in here. It would take a lot of decorations to make this look festive. Hope my soulmate doesn't mind a minimalist take on holiday cheer, because that's all they're likely to get. But I'll do what I can. I always did like a tree. Maybe I can find some other things that aren't too garish.
Kind of like the idea now it's been put to me. Surprised I didn't think of it before.
Then again, it is me. And I've been a little distracted. So I guess I'm not really all that surprised after all.
Single low honk.
Yeah, yeah. We should both eat consider I missed lunch and you worked hard today. Let's do that.
End of recording.
Chapter 12: December 12
Notes:
We just got our own tree put up this week and it's still not decorated, and yet it's still made a difference around here. Hope everyone who celebrates is feeling a bit of the festive cheer as well! xx
Chapter Text
December 12
Recording begins, 12:26 pm.
No go on the postman. Dammit.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 4:55 pm.
I've been hard at work, I have. Reached out to each of the shops I stopped in on Monday to ask if they had a board for people to post missed connections so to speak. Turns out they do, for people who are old school like me. So there's that.
I don't know where I'd go to post them online. Is there a generalized Craigslist or something idiotic like that for soulmates? I've been wondering this all day. Haven't had a minute to look into it further, since the swans have been kicking up a ruckus to the point that I worried there was a predator out there. They were so skittish I thought I'd find what was spooking them immediately but I didn't. Had to search quite a bit to find the potential predator.
They were spooked by a wayward cow.
Short snicker accompanied by the tittering from the goose.
She is a cute little thing. Found her before calling the shops, thankfully, so I could see if they might know who I should contact about a found cow.
They knew, because of course they did. This sort of thing apparently happens regularly out here. The locals have a phone tree specifically for instances like this, so I was able to reach out to the head of the phone tree and Iain was well pleased to hear I likely had Elsie. Tom the young farmer is out of town this week, but his sister was well concerned when she discovered the jailbreak apparently.
Not sure when to expect her, considering wherever Tom's gone he took the trailer with him, but she said she'd be over to at least make sure she looks safe and happy and set up a temporary pen to hold her until she can find a way to transport her.
So. Considering the time and how dark it is, she won't likely be here tonight, but I'll have that to look forward to tomorrow.
So. Yeah. Progress on the soulmate front if not a lead to go off of, a cow to add to my adventures out here, and next steps already in mind for all of it. Once Elsie's been gotten or at least looked after, I'll get my homemade posters printed and put them up at the shops I went to and see if that doesn't help me out some.
And Yeah. There we are. Here's hoping.
Short musical honks heard getting louder.
Yeah, and take care of you too. What do you think for tonight? Eat a quick meal and look through some more boxes in the storage rooms for possible decorations?
Single honk.
I think it sounds like a good plan too.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 9:22 pm.
We found the mother lode and I'm afraid it's beginning to look like a Christmas shop threw up in here. I have to admit, it does make it feel a bit more like the holidays with it all up, though. Almost makes me want to listen to some Christmas music.
Screeching sound of static is heard in the background.
The fuck is going on? Oli, mate, what did you do?
Fast honking in response.
Yeah, mate. I definitely see you found the boombox. You feeling like some music too?
The sound of static gets louder, as does the goose honking in response to Louis.
Let's see if we can find something more than the one channel whose selection wasn't even that great before. If not, then I'm going to play Spotify since we've got internet now and don't have to rely on outdated tech, yeah?
Insistent honking.
So, that's a no to Spotify?
Single honk.
Fair enough. Plenty of people out there are boycotting them for various reasons anyway. Makes sense my fucking soulmate goose also has opinions on such things.
Another honk is heard as the radio tuner is moved about, going in and out of stations but never lasting very long until Radio 1 station identifier is heard.
Oh, mate, let's listen to this. It's not Christmas, but it's Future Dance! You keen?
Single honk.
Great. Let's have this be the soundtrack whilst we finish some things with the decorations we've already got out and then call it a night, shall we?
Single longer honk.
Yeah, let's do.
The sounds of Louis and Oli talking (and honking) to each other whilst clearly decorating is heard off and on through the muffled sounds of fabric rubbing against the microphone for just over 37 minutes.
Oh shit, I forgot I was recording before. Don't remember what I was saying anyway, so if I made it to the end of this, I guess I'll just record more tomorrow? Sorry to make you sit through that for nothing, but. It is what it is.
End of recording.
Chapter 13: December 13
Notes:
a bit of a shorter one today, but hopefully that's fine lol
that said, i did want to warn you! as of right now, i don't have anything written past today's chapter. my dad almost allowed a hacker complete remote access to his computer a week and a half ago, and most of my free time since then has been helping him get all of his accounts closed and reopened, new logins to all of his various important websites that allow him to still get his monthly payments and his insurance set up through the new accounts etc etc etc which did a delightful drain of almost all of my attempts to make time to write haha
SO! i am not giving up on louis and goose oli as they search for whoever louis' soulmate might be, (it couldn't possibly be that weirdo who wouldn't shut up about long boi, could it? lololol here's a big cheer to all of you who know who long boi was (rip long boi!), y'all are DEFO my people hahaha), but it does mean that the chapters will likely be posted at night once i've gotten my boys in bed rather than morning-ish when i've gotten the kids settled.
i am hopeful that now i've mostly gotten my dad situated with his accounts and considering the kids are still in school for the coming week that i'll be able to get myself ahead of schedule again hopefully by tuesday or wednesday, and MAYBE i can even get the fic finished so i can post everything earlier in the day for the rest of the fic, but i just wanted to let you know the chapters are gonna still be coming, i promise! they just might be even messier than they have already been and defo coming later than usual as well.
thanks again for reading with me! i love and appreciate you all, and hope you keep enjoying louis' floundering with his bevy, goose, (temporarily) cow, and mystery soulmate!
Chapter Text
December 13
Recording begins, 3:22 am.
Oli has figured out how to turn on the radio and thinks it's well funny do wake me that way. Fucking goose is gonna end up roasted for Christmas at this rate.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 6:31 am.
Just moved the boombox for the fourth time because my fucking soulmate goose is fucking obsessed with radio. Radio 1 specifically. I don't even know how he manages, considering the guy doesn't have opposable thumbs, but when I switch the dial, he still gets it back to Radio 1 somehow before turning it on and it doesn't matter where I move the thing.
I'm going to have to toss the bloody thing, and I've become somewhat attached to the analog nature of it all, so I don't particularly want to, but fuck. If it means I can get some sleep past 3 am on any given day, it might be worth it, yeah?
Fucking hell. Gonna try to catch a few more winks now I've hidden it quite well, but Oli's a fucking menace, so wish me luck, yeah?
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 2:32 pm.
Long, loud yawn.
Fuck. Sorry. The lack of sleep is definitely catching up to me now.
Tittering honks.
Yeah, mate. That's entirely on you, so laugh it up.
Two short honks.
Fucking wanker of a goose.
So. Business time, which is why I started this recording in the first place.
Turns out Tom the Young Farmer's sister isn't able to make it out with the trailer until Monday, but at least Tom the Young Farmer will have returned by then so the two of them will have Elsie well handled. She did still manage to get out to check on Elsie though, and found her to be safe and fairly happy, which is great. She's on the other side of the garden from the swans, so they're still not quite pleased, but are much more calm than they were before, which I am glad about. They were quite feisty with me yesterday, and I don't like that overmuch. Have two bruises from them just on me left arm, and a rather large bandage on my right from it.
Have I mentioned that mute swans are quite territorial? They've not minded me for the most part, because I bring their food and such, but fuck. They were not keen on an unknown cow potentially coming into their space when the poor dear likely just wanted some water.
Anyway. Now that Tom the Young Farmer's sister has come and gone and Elsie is set up in her temporary pen with enough feed to keep her happy until Monday and the promises that they will clean up after Elsie when Elsie is removed, I am on my way into town.
Two honks.
Yes, sorry. We are on our way into town.
Single honk.
I just keep thinking about all the various kinds of shit I've encountered in the last month and a half that I never really had to consider previously. I had no idea so much of the job caring for some swans would involve animal shit.
The things you learn, eh?
Fifteen seconds of silence.
So I've got a little poster ready to be printed and hung in the different shops asking if anyone had a soulmate goose show up the morning of Tuesday the 9th after going to the specific shops listed on Monday the 8th. I'm really hoping something comes of this, because if not I really don't know what else to do.
Two honks.
I'm sure there's something else, I just don't know what it is yet. I'm doing my best here, yeah?
Single honk.
Rude.
Sigh.
So yeah. Here's hoping.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 4:11 pm.
Turns out there's not just one app for soulmate goose people to find their soulmates, but there's loads.
Doesn't that seem a bit counterproductive? Wouldn't you want them all to just be one massive database for people? That would end up taking less time overall if it's done that way, yeah? It could be sorted by geographical region you were in when the goose appeared as well as the date the goose appeared or something and that should make things easy enough, wouldn't it?
But no. If only I knew anything about app development, I could be the bright mind pulling this together. But instead here I am, heading home to download the top three apps recommended to me by people today.
Okay, fine. I'll probably only download the apps today and then get around to setting up profiles and all that shit tomorrow, but there's still a lot I need to do today, yeah?
Single honk.
Yeah, I hear you. We'll work more on decorations tonight as well, but first I'll be downloading the apps and getting us fed, yeah?
Single honk.
Great. Let's go, then.
End of recording.
Chapter 14: December 14
Notes:
Had a chance to finish today's chapter earlier than expected, huzzah!! Hopefully I can get some more writing done tonight so tomorrow's can be posted during the day still too.
I had a lot of fun writing today's chapter, so I hope you find it amusing like I did as well lololol
Chapter Text
December 14
Recording begins, 7:22 am.
I'm gonna kill Oli. I really am. He found the boombox again. It was in a closet on a shelf underneath a coat.
How did the fucking thing open the door, much less make is way through all that to not only turn it on loud enough to blast through the house but then also peck at me in bed as I tried to drown it out?? Why is he like this?
Roasted goose, I swear to you. Roasted fucking soulmate goose. Think I'd be sent another if I did somehow manage to kill him? Or is he just magically unable to be killed? Like a vampire or something?
Fucking hell.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 9:30 am.
The bevy is doing great. The new swans are getting on with the original crew as if they'd been here the whole time. It's kinda wild, all things considered. I really did expect there to be a lot more issues than there have been, yet it's been practically seamless.
That said, Zayn and his bird are back! Definitely didn't see that coming. Gonna have to reach out to the vet about it, though, because I want them to check the two of them out and make sure they're looking good and healthy since they didn't get the same treatment as the rest of them did.
Elsie is also doing great. She's actually quite sweet. I've always been more of a dog man, myself, but she's about won me over to highland cows. She's almost like a quite docile, less rambunctious dog.
Though, considering how we met, I'm not sure that's an accurate description of her. She seems quite mischievous. You can see it in her big gorgeous brown eyes.
Sigh.
When did I become that person? The kind who goes on about a literal cow's eyes? Fucking hell. Scotland's gotten to me, and it's not even been two months yet. This gig is meant to be for two years! I'm going to be a proper Scotsman, or at the very least a proper farmer, by the end of it at this rate. Fucking hell.
Anyway. So Elsie's doing great and should be picked up in the morning. I think? Maybe it was afternoon? Doesn't much matter to me, I'll be here either way.
Ehm… What else was there?
Oh yeah. Found a way to get Oli to shut up.
Low chuckling heard as a door creaks open and suddenly a Radio 1 station identifier plays for Weekend Breakfast with James Cusack.
Heya, mate. You still having a good time in here?
Three fairly excited sounding honks sound with some flapping and pattering of feet on a hard floor.
Yeah, I should get you a rug in here if you're going to spend much time enjoying the music instead of following me around, eh?
Two longer honks.
Oh, come off it. You know we'll hang out later as I'm getting my profiles set up for the three soulmate search apps, yeah?
Single short honk.
Hmm. Well let me get the tea settled and then you can join me by the fireplace where it's warmer, yeah? Dunno how you're happy in this big drafty room.
Single longer honk.
Sure, sure. Gotta have music to be happy or whatever. My Spotify agrees with you, considering the number of hours it informed me I listened to this year.
Two short honks.
Fuck off, I know your preference for the radio already, mate. It's fine for you and all, but sometimes a person wants to be in control of what they're hearing, you know what I mean?
Two short honks.
Whatever. Finish up in here whilst I get me tea and then we can start the tedium of setting up multiple profiles.
A door creaks again, but no latch is heard before the sound of footsteps are heard.
So there we are for now anyway. Guess I'll likely be back if there's anything to say after getting those damn profiles set up.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 11:21 am.
These profiles are so stupid, oh my god. I hate it so much.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 12:45 pm.
No, really. I hate profiles of any kind but for anything like this? I mean, it feels like a dating profile! It's not, though. Like, for fuck's sake, we've already found our soulmate!
Kind of.
Fucking…
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 1:22 pm.
A very loud, very close range, prolonged yell sounds, distorting the speakers.
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 4:34 pm.
I'm glad I capped myself at only three. Getting myself to finish the damned things was the worst, most tedious…
Very long, drawn out sigh.
I hate them so much. I hate them so fucking much. If I weren't feeling so fucking stuck in a dead end like I was never going to find the person who triggered the damn thing to show up, I never would have done it.
Like, the supposed verifying I'm a human bullshit? Like, they do realize that people could still be lying about all that shit, right? There's so many ways to get through all their questions and supposed checks to ensure I'm who I say I am, yeah?
Granted, I don't know what the point of someone faking that would be, so why do they actually need people to do that? Like, you find your supposed soulmate on the app and go to meet them and someone shows up without a goose, and you know it's not the right person, and it's done. Yeah?
Deep breath.
So. Yeah.
Single long honk.
Yeah, mate. I know. You're the only reason I got them finished.
I just don't understand why so much is required for the profile. Either the person was in the area on that day or they weren't. Like, I'm genuinely not fussed about impressing my soulmate at this point, am I? They likely wanna get rid of their goose as much as I would and that is reason enough to get together and…
Oh shit. I don't actually know what it takes to get rid of the goose.
Oli, mate, is just meeting my soulmate and like… acknowledging that we are each other's soulmate enough to get you to like… disappear or whatever you do to go back to wherever you came from?
Two short honks.
Fucking hell.
Okay, so what, like, a kiss?
Single short honk.
You can't… Okay, so like a snog? A good solid snog will be enough?
Two short honks.
You cannot be fucking serious… You need more than that even?! Does our soulmate connection need to be fucking consummated or some shit for you to finally leave me the fuck alone!?
Single longer honk.
What the fuuuuuuuuuck?
End of recording.
Recording begins again, 9:49 pm.
I swear I'm deleting my profiles off all these apps already. Not only am I not finding anyone who had their goose appear after being in this general area on the date required on any of them, but people are genuinely treating these things like a fucking dating app.
And I need to still wrap my head around the fact I'm going to apparently have to fuck my soulmate without even really knowing them in order to get Oli and their soulmate goose to go back to soulmate goose limbo or whatever.
What kind of fucking bullshit…
End of recording.
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