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sparktls · 2 years

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Awakening The Legend Of The Chalk Castle Chapter 3 | Event Story Translation

Translation under the cut!

Arthur: Cain, will you come with me?

Cain: Of course! Haha, I didn’t think the time for you to ask me to accompany you would come so soon.

Shino: I’ll go too, I’m curious about Oz’s castle. Whatever problem's going on, I’ll fix it in an instant.

Lennox: I’ll go too. Is that alright, Master Sage?

Akira: Yes, of course.

Oz: …..

Akira: (Oz looks worried. A lot of the young wizards are going, so that must be why…)

Shylock: Then I shall accompany them as well. I, of course, not able to serve as a replacement for Oz, but I do believe that I can be of some help.

Arthur: Thank you, Shylock.

Snow: Oz, do not worry yourself. We must believe in the others and leave it to them.

Oz: I am not worried…

Arthur: Master Oz, please do not worry. We will fulfill our duty and come back safely!

Oz: …Don’t do anything reckless.

Arthur: Of course!

—————————

Akira: (It’s still nagging at me…)

Akira: (Oz must be worried too about having just Arthur and the others go on a mission…)

Thought it was already decided during the tea party, all the uneasiness I feel is preventing me from falling asleep.

I get up from my bed and go straight to Oz’s room, knocking on the door.

Akira: Oz, it’s me. Do you have a moment?

After a brief wait, the door opens, and Oz peeks through the door.

Although it’s the middle of the night, Oz doesn’t seem particularly surprised at the fact that he has a visitor. His reaction is one you would have to the mailman dropping off some mail.

Akira: G-good evening.

Oz: What is it.

Akira: Oh, uh, I was wondering if you were able to sleep just fine…

Oz: …You woke me with your knocking. You would have, if I was asleep.

Akira: Y-yes, that’s true. I’m sorry…

As I shrink away from him, Oz gestures for me to enter his room.

I wouldn’t have been able to blame him if he had turned me away, but he didn’t. I give a sigh of relief.

—————————

Akira: So… I was wondering if you were worried about Arthur and the others.

Akira: I’m sure that they’ll be okay, but since you can’t go with them… I thought it might be worrying you.

Oz: …..

Oz stares down at me as I form my feelings into words, with not a single one being of advice or counsel.

I thought he might say something along the lines of “So what?”, but Oz instead slowly shakes his head from side to side.

Oz: …Central wizards know no fear. They are reckless, akin to a lion cub choosing to jump right off a cliff.

Oz: But they are not cubs. They are wizards. They can fly freely; they can commune with the spirits and gain power.

Oz continues to speak quietly. His tone was calm, and I felt as though his words were on the verge of melting away into the silence of the night.

Oz: And with them will be Shylock and Lennox. Now, you should go. Children should sleep, not be worrying when there is no need to worry.

Akira: Oz…

Packed into Oz’s words was the trust he had in Arthur and the others. He was like a parent lion watching over their cubs as they crawled up a cliff.

Akira: (...I see now. Maybe I was the one that was actually worried.)

The words that Oz weaved together make me realize the fact that they were proper, trusty wizards, fully capable of taking care of themselves.

They make me realize what I thought I had already known, but had forgotten in the face of my worries as I went through the same thoughts over and over and over again.

Akira: (I had thought that Oz must have felt the same, but… He was looking further than today.)

Akira: You’re right, Oz. Thank you.

Oz: Will you be able to sleep well?

Akira: (...He’s figured out I wasn’t able to fall asleep, hasn’t he…)

Oz: If you can’t sleep, warm up some milk. You’ll be able to fall asleep more easily with warm hands and feet.

Akira: That sounds like something a mom would say…

Oz: What?

Akira: N-no, it’s nothing! I just thought that you said something that Nero might say.

Oz: …I am not Nero. If you want milk, warm it yourself.

Akira: Alright! I’ll do that. Thank you very much, Oz.

Significantly more relieved, I smile as I respond. Oz gives an exasperated sigh.

Akira: After the mission tomorrow, let’s have another tea party. With Arthur and the others!

Oz: …Alright.

—————————

The next day. The Northern wizards, Oz and myself had quickly finished up the mission and returned to the manor.

Bradley: Shit, I’m so fucking tired. I thought that it’d end quicker.

Mithra: If you didn’t fall in that hole, we would have already been back here ages ago.

Bradley: That only happened ‘cause ya’ picked a fight with Oz! Damnit, ya’ and yer’ roping other people into yer’ problems.

The two are talking about what had gone down right before we about to be done. A skirmish between Mithra and Oz had begun over some silly thing.

Although Mithra was on full offense, Oz didn’t pay much attention to him. The one who bore the brunt of it all was Bradley.

Akira: (He fell in a deep hole and then the dust in it made him sneeze…)

Unluckily for Bradley, he was teleported off to the middle of the ocean.

With Oz’s magic, we were somehow able to all make it back, but Bradley had swallowed a lot of seawater.

Mithra: It all worked out, didn’t it? You were going on and on about how you “Needed a drink” the entire mission.

Bradley: I meant booze! And it wasn’t just a single drink, it was bucketfuls! And I’m covered in salt!

Bradley: Sage, we can leave, right? I’m goin’ back to my room.

Mithra: I’m going back too.

Akira: Oh, good work toda… and they’re gone.

Snow: Good grief. I do believe we spent more time cleaning up after Mithra and Oz’s skirmish than on the mission itself.

Oz: If they had listened to me, I would not have had to trouble you.

Owen: Is there nothing to eat? I want that blueish purplish thick thing that’s like a stewed down swamp.

White: Perchance you mean blueberry jam? As always, you are quite the free spirit.

Akira: (Anyways, I’m glad all of that’s over. I wonder if Arthur and the others are back yet? They should be.)

Shylock: Welcome back, all of you.

Akira: Shylock! I’m so glad that you’ve finished investigating the Lair of Oz.

Akira: (Huh…?)

As if he had been waiting for our return, Shylock steps into the room, but his expression is one of gloom.

Shylock: The investigation is still in progress. We decided that with our current situation, we are in need of Oz’s power, and I have come back for the time being.

Oz: ….

Akira: What happened?

Shylock: There is no imminent danger, however… The manager for the Lair of Oz…

Oz: Vox Nox.

Snow: Now, Oz, wait…!

Owen: What?

Akira: Oh!

Before Shylock has the chance to finish his sentence, Oz chants his spell.

As he does, the room begins to contort, and my vision goes white.

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heliads · 3 years

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Best Kept Secrets (Part Two)

Based on this request: “Wanda and the reader are married and the reader mom is Agatha but the reader does not know that…Then Agatha watches the reader having a good time with her family and Agatha is happy but sad because we get another flashback of the reader snapping their finger in order to destroy thanos and his army.”

part one / masterlist

Cameras continue rolling, boom mics lower. Episode begins.

Y/N looks around, at their family gathered nearby. There’s a white and red checked picnic blanket tucked around them, a water bottle sloshing noisily in their lowering grasp. Y/N’s wife, Wanda, is speaking to their two twin sons, Billy and Tommy, who are delighted over a grasshopper they’ve spotted among the emerald stalks beneath their feet. To any unsuspecting passersby, the scene would look perfectly normal, and it should be so, yet there’s still a cloud of unease lingering over Y/N’s face. For a second, Y/N didn’t think they were back at the Westview park but instead in some unfamiliar place.

It had happened just as Y/N was reaching for the water bottle. They had been kneeling, right hand outstretched, and then the scene had shifted around them. The sky had turned an ashy gray, the dew-drenched grass broken up into rubble and debris. Y/N had been kneeling in that same position, hand outstretched, but there was something wrong there, something that had filled them with this strange determined terror…

Y/N is jolted back to reality when their young son, Billy, turns to her with a concerned expression. “Is everything alright? You look too unhappy for a fun picnic.” A gentle smile slips onto Y/N’s face like a well-worn glove. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I was just finishing up my lunch. Speaking of which, it looks like you boys are done eating as well. Is there anything else you’d like to do while we’re here?” Tommy nods excitedly, bounding up from his position on the picnic blanket. “I saw the coolest dragonflies and bugs around us.”

Wanda laughs. “Doesn’t that sound interesting! Here, take these. You can catch us some insects to study.” With a flourish of her hand, Wanda turns two wooden serving spoons into identical butterfly nets, and hands one to each twin. They look at each other in excitement then dart off into the grass, swinging the nets with enthusiasm, if lacking somewhat in coordination. Y/N gives Wanda an amused stare. “What about the spoons?” Wanda waves a hand dismissively. “I can turn them back later. Sure makes packing easier to just change all the cutlery into toys.”

The audience laughs at that, and Y/N grins. “Speaking of which, let’s speed up the packing of the picnic basket.” With a gesture of their hands, all of the plates and utensils fly into the wicker basket in a flurry of purple sparks. Wanda nods appreciatively. “I’m going to have to learn that trick.” Y/N stands up, glancing around her at the paths leading out of the park. “Just curious, did you see Agnes walking around? I could have sworn I saw her just a few minutes ago.” Wanda frowns. “I don’t think so. Are you looking for her?” Y/N glances around one last time, then shrugs. “Not anymore, I guess.”

Billy, having just successfully snared a dragonfly, calls over to Y/N. Y/N walks over, admiring the insect with their son. Billy considers it one last time, then turns over the net and releases it. Y/N watches it go. “That’s a good choice. As much fun as it is to study interesting things, you always have to let them go in the end.” Billy nods sagely. “You know, I finally get why you and Mom work so well together.” Y/N smiles questioningly. “Why is that?” Billy stares out over the park, looking for more winged insects. “She always has so many thoughts in your head, and yours sometimes don’t show up at all. She’s noisy and you’re quiet, and it works out.”

Y/N tilts their head to the side, looking over at Billy. “What do you mean, I’m quiet?” Billy shrugs. “I can’t hear as many of your thoughts. It kind of reminds me of Agnes, actually. She does the same thing.” Y/N’s brow furrows, but they still allow a fond expression to cross their face. “Look at you go, using your powers. I think it’s amazing that you can tell all that already.” Billy beams, glad for the compliment, then races off after a recently sighted butterfly.

Y/N watches him as he chases after it, raising his net high in the air to successfully entangle the butterfly in the woven fabric. Y/N’s smile disappears from their face, however, as they watch the butterfly struggling in the net. As it flutters around, looking for a possible escape, the bright violet of its wings seems to darken, almost vanishing into empty gray. With every flutter of its wings, the purple leaches from the butterfly.

There’s another sight in Y/N’s eyes now. Y/N can still see that electric purple hue circling around something, can still see it trembling and disappearing into nothingness. But the violet isn’t clinging to a butterfly’s wings this time. No, it’s around a hand, Y/N’s hand, and it’s vanishing as Y/N’s heart rate seems to slow, because as the purple fades away so to does she, which means that Y/N is-

Y/N’s eyes widen, dragging them back to reality as Wanda walks up next to them. Wanda frowns at the look on Y/N’s face. “Are you alright? You look worried. I thought Billy specifically requested that you have a good time.” Y/N laughs at the joke. “As much fun as that sounds, it’s a lot easier to change someone else’s emotions than to fix your own.” Wanda makes a face at the camera. “You have no idea.” Laughter ripples down from the audience, and Y/N looks around for a second as if trying to find out its source.

Wanda puts a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, gently steering them back to face her once again. “You are feeling alright, yes? I just want to make sure everything is under control.” Y/N looks back at Wanda, but their expression is still tinged with unease. “It always is with you around, isn’t it?”

Cameras cut to B-Roll footage. Screen fades to black, but shortly opens on a new scene- Wanda and Y/N’s bedroom.

Y/N lies awake, staring at the ceiling. Beside them, Wanda sleeps peacefully, but Y/N seems unable to share in her quiet rest. Y/N closes her eyes, as if considering something, then slips silently from the blankets and out of bed. Wanda starts to stir, but then Y/N flicks her hands towards the cameras, and they turn away, shut down. Wanda returns back to her deep sleep, no longer concerned.

Cameras are unresponsive. Scene cuts to black.

Y/N quickly dons a pair of comfortable clothes before heading out of the house and down the block. They can still hear Billy’s voice echoing in the recesses of their head- I can’t hear that many of your thoughts. It kind of reminds me of Agnes, actually. She does the same thing. Y/N knows why Billy can’t hear their mind, it’s because of Y/N’s magic, but why would Agnes have the same ability?

After a couple of quiet knocks, Agnes’ front door opens. Agnes looks startled to see Y/N standing there, and hurriedly gestures for them to come inside, quickly shutting the door behind them. “Not that I don’t love spending time with my closest of friends, but can I get a reason for this late-night visit?” Agnes glances around her, but Y/N holds up a hand. “Don’t worry about the cameras- I shut them off. Nobody can see us right now.” Agnes’ head jerks up. “You know about the cameras?” Y/N inclines their head. “Only every now and then. I think I lose my memory of them sometimes because certain people want me to forget.”

Agnes nods in agreement, then a sudden movement outside in the street catches her eye. Agnes turns her head slowly to face the window and curses softly when she sees a figure moving down the street. Y/N follows her gaze. “Why is the mailman out doing his route? It’s the middle of the night.” Agnes grimaces. “Wanda must have sent him out to see where you were. Even unconsciously, she can still tell that you’re looking into things that you’re not supposed to know about.”

The mailman is almost at their window when Agnes’ hand moves almost imperceptibly, and the man looks the other way, avoiding Agnes’ house completely. Y/N’s eyes dart to Agnes’ hand, at the brief flash of indigo electricity that had danced around her fingers. “You have the same magic as I do. How is that possible?” Agnes faces Y/N with a look like a caged animal. “Why did you call me Agatha on our last visit?” She counters, and Y/N sighs. “I don’t know. It just came into my head. Now tell me- do you really have the same powers as I do?”

Agatha- for it is truly Agatha now- holds up a hand, allowing the purple sparks to flicker between her fingers. “It’s less of a power and more of a learned ability.” Y/N’s brow furrows as they consider this, and then their eyes widen. “I’ve never seen anyone with that same ability, and I shouldn’t ever, unless-” They break off, staring at Agatha. “I thought my mother abandoned me long ago. I thought she was dead. But she’s not, is she? She’s you.” Agatha nods once, and Y/N looks overwhelmed.

“You’ve known all along. You knew that I was your child and you never once looked for me? You could have told me when I first arrived. You could have never left me at all. Why do it then, for fun? Because you were sick of me, even though I was too small to know what you were doing?” Agatha winces like she’s been slapped. “I didn’t want to leave you! I had a coven, a coven with strict rules, and they made me give you up. I didn’t know who you were until a week or so ago when you arrived here, I swear it. I would have found you long ago had I known.”

Y/N’s breathing is harsh in their chest. “Do you mean it? You would have stayed with me?” Agatha nods. “Leaving you was one of my worst regrets. It haunted me every day.” Y/N stands there, as if in a trance, then rushes over, flinging their arms around their mother. Agatha seems frozen in place, then slowly wraps her arms around her child to return the embrace. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never meant for this to happen.” Y/N nods. “I know. It’s alright now.”

Cameras return with a shower of ruby sparks. Scene opens in the Maximoff-L/N family kitchen.

Tommy is standing alone at the kitchen table, fixing himself a peanut butter sandwich. His brother is off in his room, trying to teach himself a new card trick he’d seen their Uncle Pietro do once. Y/N walks into the kitchen, and glances over at their son. “How’s the sandwich?” Tommy nods, his face a mask of complete concentration. “I have to get it just right. The perfect sandwich is key to the perfect day.” Y/N raises an eyebrow. “I can understand that. How do you know it’s perfect?”

Tommy carefully smears a last dollop of peanut butter onto his sandwich, reverently placing the two pieces of bread together. “I just know. With the right toastiness of the bread, and the crunchy peanut butter, perfectness was practically inevitable.” He snaps his fingers in satisfaction. Y/N flinches, staring at Tommy’s hand. Inevitable. The snap. Wait-

Another hand is snapping its fingers, another hand clad in a large golden glove. No, it was not a glove but a gauntlet. It’s not Y/N’s hand this time, it’s someone else’s, and someone else’s voice declaring that they were inevitable. And then there’s a voice coming from behind the figure, who whirls around in outrage, and it must be Y/N’s voice speaking now. Y/N replies, but most importantly they snap their fingers as well, the cloud of purple magic over their hand lit up by six gems spangled into the gauntlet on their own hand, and-

Wanda walks into the room again, forcing Y/N to return to the present moment. Wanda takes in the sight of Y/N, about to head through the door. “Where are you heading in such a rush?” She asks. “I was heading to Agnes’, actually.” Y/N says, and Wanda frowns. “Why do you keep bringing up Agnes? First at the picnic, then again here. I mean, she’s just our neighbour, right?” Y/N glances over at her. “Does it really matter? I just want to see her.” Y/N starts to turn away towards the door, but Wanda reaches out an arm to block their path. “Actually, I was thinking we should have a talk. Let’s go into the other room.”

Wanda’s hand is enclosed around Y/N’s wrist, practically dragging them away into a spare bedroom. Once the door is shut behind them, Y/N snatches their hand back from Wanda’s grip. “What’s gotten into you?” Wanda scowls. “What’s gotten into me? Y/N, you’ve been acting very strangely the last couple of days. I think you need to relax.” The word seems charged with some sort of energy, and Y/N takes a step back, as if to avoid it. “Are you trying to mind control me?”

Wanda’s lips tighten. “Why would I do that?” She says, forcing a laugh. Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Well, of all the ways to deny mind control, I have to say that was the least convincing.” Wanda folds her arms across her chest. “You sound paranoid. Why would I want to control your mind?” Y/N starts to pace back and forth across the room. “That’s the problem- I don’t know. I don’t know a lot of things, actually.” Y/N stops walking, and faces Wanda again. “I can’t remember anything about my life before we got to Westview. I know about my powers, and I know about you, but that’s it. Why is everything else a blank?”

Wanda frowns. “Aren’t I enough for you?” Y/N sighs. “You’re more than enough, Wanda, which is why it hadn’t occurred to me before now. I just keep feeling like something is wrong, and I need to wake up and figure out what it is, but every time I try I feel like you’re always there to stop me from remembering.” Wanda’s concerned expression shifts into a colder stare. “Don’t try to make me the villain. I will always care about you most of all, before anyone.” Y/N can’t return her gaze. “I wish I could believe that, but I keep starting to remember things. I think something happened to me, but I can’t remember what it was. You won’t let me remember what it was.”

Wanda’s eyes flash with ice. “I will do what I want. I’m doing everything to protect you, and I don’t know why you can’t be content with that.” Y/N’s face hardens. “I can’t trust you anymore, Wanda. You won’t let me.” Y/N strides to the door, throws it open. “I’d come up with one last snappy comeback for the show, but I suppose you’re in charge of all the scenes, aren’t you?” With that, Y/N storms away, leaving Wanda standing there in shocked anger.

Cameras focus on Wanda, who is reassuring the twins that everything is fine. Cameras do not pick up Y/N L/N, who is moving quickly towards the barriers of the town.

Y/N’s blood is pumping through their veins, surges of adrenaline making their eyes glow violet with power. There’s something on the tip of their tongue, a discovery that needs to be made. So, Y/N heads for the edge of town, towards the street where they first arrived in Westview. As they approach the city limits, Y/N’s head tilts up in awe. There’s a line designating the edge of town, and beyond that, a tall barrier glistening with magic. No other human would have been able to see it, but the magic of centuries of witches run through Y/N, and their eyes can pick up details that no one else can see.

Y/N comes to a stop in front of the town boundary, and reaches out a hand. Where their fingers touch the barrier, scarlet light is replaced by indigo. With a movement of their hands, Y/N draws aside the barrier as if it were a curtain, the light changing into purple wherever she walks. Through the boundary, Y/N can see the town beyond, but it lacks the charming simplicity of Westview- instead, there are armored vehicles and encampments, all of them military. Scores of soldiers stand guard, watching her approach. Just as Y/N fully steps through the boundary, however, they collapse to the ground.

Pain swirls around Y/N like a storm. As Y/N watches, fragments of their very being begin to drift away. It’s as if Y/N is being eroded by time itself, a statue being carried away to dust and rubble in the span of seconds. There’s a shout from across the encampment, and a woman with dark hair runs up to her. The woman - Darcy, Y/N can read her mind - is restrained by guards, but in a weakened gesture Y/N uses her abilities to pull the soldiers away from her. Darcy sprints up to Y/N, but she seems unable to save them. Y/N croaks out a question. “What happened to me?” Tears fill Darcy’s eyes. “You died in the battle against Thanos. You sacrificed yourself to save all of us.” As Y/N hears Darcy’s words, a sense of clarity seems to enter them, and Y/N’s eyes clear at last, even as her body breaks down into shards of pure magical energy.

Cameras stay on the Maximoff-L/N home, where Wanda and Agnes sit with the twins. Recordings do not pick up the incident currently occurring on the Westview boundary.

Billy turns to his mother suddenly. “Mom, something’s wrong with Y/N. I can hear their thoughts in my head.” Wanda looks up at him. “What do you mean?” Billy looks terrified. “Y/N’s in pain, so much pain. I can hear them screaming. Mom, I think Y/N is about to die.” Wanda and Agnes both rise at the same time, expressions of terror mirroring each other. Agnes murmurs something about having to go, and she quickly disappears out the door while Wanda does her best to locate her spouse. Wanda flings out her arms, eyes flashing scarlet with the magnitude of the power she is about to use. Around Westview, the boundary begins to expand.

As soon as Agatha closes the front door behind her, she instantly vanishes, appearing in the space near the boundary. She stares with an open mouth as the barrier surrounding the town glows an angry crimson, and glides forward across the ground. After a second, the boundary leaves behind a single body, lying alone in the grass. Agatha runs to it, and has to choke back a scream at the sight of her child.

Y/N should have healed. They should have started healing, they should not be in this much disrepair. Y/N is lying crumpled on the ground, watching their body begin to disintegrate away. Agatha kneels over her child. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you getting better?” Y/N smiles up at her. “The power of the Infinity Stones cannot be undone forever. I was called to die long ago, and Wanda can’t reform me for much longer.” Agatha shakes her head, tears starting to course down her cheeks. “I’m not ready to let you go. Not yet. I just found you.”

Y/N’s eyes glow with warmth, and they place a trembling hand on Agatha’s cheek. “We were never supposed to meet, so any hour together was already on borrowed time. I’m grateful to have this much.” Y/N’s head tilts to the side, as if listening to an approaching sound. “Wanda is coming. You’ll have to go before she gets here, because she doesn’t know who you really are.” Agatha is shaking her head in refusal. “I can’t leave you here. I can’t let you die.” Y/N’s hand clasps onto Agatha’s, gripping it tightly. “None of us can really die, not forever. I’ll stick around, even if it’s on the other side. Now go, before it’s too late.” Agatha takes in one last look at her child, then vanishes into the empty air, just as Wanda bursts into view on Y/N’s other side.

Wanda falls to the ground beside Y/N. “I didn’t want this to happen. I should have told you everything. Y/N, you-” Y/N cuts her off gently. “It’s alright, Wanda. I know. I died at the battle against Thanos, and I would like nothing more than to be able to come back and stay here with you, but life has a way of not always following through.” For a second, the dying Avenger thinks it’s raining, until Y/N realizes that it’s just Wanda’s tears falling onto their cheeks.

Wanda forces back a sob as she watches Y/N’s body begin to dissolve away. “What do I tell the boys when you don’t return? How are we supposed to keep going?” Y/N smiles at her, pure and lacking in the bittersweet tinge that had always tainted it before. “The boys will have you, and that’s all any of us needed. You’re the one that will always matter, Wanda, even after I’m gone. I knew that when I met you, and I’ll know it even after I close my eyes.”

Wanda leans over, presses her forehead to Y/N’s. “I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.” Y/N laughs, the sound slightly tinny as their chest turns to ash. “I love you too. I’ll see you soon.” Wanda closes her eyes and kisses Y/N softly. When she opens her eyes again, she is kneeling alone in the middle of a grassy field. Y/N has finally been laid to rest.

Cameras begin to refocus on the Maximoff-L/N home, but there’s a flash of scarlet and they turn off, disappearing into the night. They are no longer necessary. Wanda leaves the studio, tears still drying on her cheeks. It is time to rebuild.

wanda maximoff tag list: @mionemymind

#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagines #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch imagines #wandavision imagine #wandavision x reader #wandavision imagines #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagines

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handeaux · 3 years

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17 Curious (And Occasionally Famous) Cincinnati Dogs

Early Aeronaut

Richard Clayton, proprietor of a watch shop on the corner of Sycamore and Second streets in Cincinnati, gained international fame in 1835 when he flew a balloon from Cincinnati to Monroe County, Virginia. Shortly after liftoff from an amphitheater on Court Street, between Race and Elm, Clayton released a parachute which descended slowly to earth. Suspended from the parachute was a little (and unnamed) dog, who was returned safely to its owner. The owner refused large sums of money to part with his pioneering aeromutt.

Lusus Naturae

Cincinnati witnessed the birth of a most unusual dog in 1858. A bull terrier owned by Smith Betts of Western Row (today’s Central Avenue) gave birth to a litter including a puppy with three normal legs and a foreleg from which, where a paw should have been located, was a perfectly formed puppy head. According to the Cincinnati Commercial Tribune [17 May 1858]: “The little curiosity was as lively as a cricket, but Mr. Betts procured the service of a lad, who, for a dime, drowned it in the canal.”

Dog Days At The Zoo

In its early days, the Cincinnati Zoo offered displays of dogs. On the Zoo’s opening day in 1875, visitors could view a Newfoundland, two mastiffs, some poodles, “Danish hounds” (Great Danes) and greyhounds. Some of these dogs were trained performers, but others merely illustrated unfamiliar breeds. Cincinnatians could purchase dogs from the Zoo if they wished. The Zoo advertised Saint Bernard dogs especially as “docile . . . but a terror to tramps and evil-doers.”

A Canine Con Artist

Attorney John J. McCarthy had a friend who owned a dog. The dog preferred the company of Mr. McCarthy to that of his actual owner. As the Enquirer [27 January 1891] told it, the dog, on command, would sit up, wear a hat and smoke a cigar while displaying the “most sage look.” McCarthy turned down multiple offers to sell the dog, repeatedly explaining that he did not own the mutt. Some buyers persisted, however, to the extent that McCarthy took their money and turned over the dog. After every purchase, however, the dog was back at McCarthy’s feet within the hour.

A Dog With A Job

Willie Theobald was a clerk at the American District Messenger Office on Vine Street in 1894 and he owned a dog named Purp who followed him to work. In the days before email and faxes, a lot of business communication traveled through the city by messenger and Willie supervised a troop of young messengers – and a dog. While Willie sat at his desk, making assignments, Purp accompanied messengers on their rounds and often delivered messages on his own. Purp waited patiently until the receipt book was signed, then trotted back to Willie to await his next task.

A Vet’s Pride

Veterinarian L.A. Anderson was known throughout Cincinnati because of his dog, Jeff, esteemed to be the smartest canine in town. One day in 1894, Jeff was, as was his habit, holding the reins of his master’s horse while Dr. Anderson attended to some business. When a rainstorm blew up, Jeff led the horse onto the pavement and under the awning of a nearby store. As the rain abated, Jeff led the horse back into the street to await Dr. Anderson’s return.

It’s Not easy Being Green

Oscar A. Stuckenberg, a clerk in the city engineering office, donated to Cincinnati’s Natural History Museum the freshly deceased body of a greyhound pup which had died 36 hours after birth, 23 February 1897. The color of its coat was distinctly asparagus green, except the head, which was the ordinary grey color. Museum curators scrubbed the corpse with soap, then soaked it in alcohol for several hours, but were unable to remove the color. “Mr. Stuckenberg's assurance that the pup was born with the green color can not be doubted,” they concluded.

Pug In Lieu Of A Ring

Margaret Harrison was one of the most sought-after young ladies in Cincinnati, if not for her own charms then for the riches of her father, Learner Blackman Harrison, president of the First National Bank. She accepted the proposal of Ezra Howard Child, son of a wealthy Massachusetts manufacturer but, it being 1900, thought engagement rings were too old-fashioned for a modern couple and requested a dog instead. Margaret’s fiancé complied, and a pug, decorated with a white satin ribbon, accompanied her throughout the ceremony, attended by one hundred guests, at her parent’s house on Grandin Road.

Cincinnati’s Most Intelligent Dog

Word got around in 1902 that Prince, a white and brown water spaniel owned by Mr. and Mrs. Walter M. Wirthwine of Evanston, could do anything except speak. The Wirthwines talked to Prince continually as they trained him and this, it was believed, educated Prince to understand every word spoken, so that he followed every command to the letter. Although 10 years old, Prince was described as frisky as a puppy, and much beloved by the neighbors on Harvard Avenue.

Cincinnati’s First Police Dog

Visitors to the Greater Cincinnati Police Museum are greeted by the stuffed remains of a scruffy mutt in a display case. This is Handsome, beloved companion of the Cincinnati Police who patrolled Rat Row, Sausage Row and the other unsavory neighborhoods that constituted what is now The Banks but was once known as The Bottoms. Handsome’s feats of investigative skill spread far and wide. On his demise in 1915, the cops chipped in and had Handsome preserved through taxidermy. For a while, he decorated police headquarters, but he’s now at home in the museum.

An Extra Leg

In 1926, somebody dropped off an unusual dog to Hamilton County Sheriff Richard Witt who, back then, also served as the county’s dog catcher. There was nothing wrong with the little puppy except that it had five legs. Witt turned the little fellow over to his deputy, Charles “Buck” Hauser, who promised to take care of it. Hauser had a history with freak animals; he also provided a home to a three-legged rooster.

Danny Dumm’s Greyhound

Cartoonist Harold E. Russell inked daily sports highlights for the Cincinnati Enquirer over a 52-year career that ended only with his death in 1966. Along the way, Russell is credited with inventing mustachioed Mister Red and the Cincinnati Royals logo. He also created a miniature alter ego named Danny Dumm who provided commentary on Russell’s cartoons for decades. In 1928, promoting racing meets at a Springdale greyhound track, Danny adopted a dog and the Enquirer ran a contest to name the pooch. Inundated with thousands of entries, Russell got two assistants to help him pick the eventual winning name – Big Swig – submitted by Miss Evelyn Klopp of Norwood.

Big Jon & Sparkie’s Pooch

For a decade, beginning at WSAI in 1948 and later on the ABC network, the most popular show on radio, “Big Jon & Sparkie,” was produced here in Cincinnati. Big Jon was the show’s host, Jonathan Arthur Goerss. Sparkie was an elf from the Land of Make Believe who wanted to become a real boy. Most of the characters were based on writer Don Kortekamp’s Cincinnati childhood, including Sparkie’s mischievous dog, a Boston toy terrier named Bunny.

Uncle Al’s Dog

From 1950 to 1985, it seemed mandatory for every kid in Cincinnati to appear at least once on WCPO’s Uncle Al Show. In addition to host Al Lewis himself and his wife, Wanda, aka “Captain Windy,” the show featured a multitude of supporting characters. Many of the subsidiary roles on the Uncle Al Show were created by artist and set designer Thomas York, including Ringo Rango the cowboy, Lucky the Clown, Chief Red Feather, Charley the Horse, the Merry Mailman and, of course, Pal the Dog.

Hattie The Witch’s Hound

At least two generations of Cincinnati children grew up with the Larry Smith Puppets, from his days on the Uncle Al Show on WCPO-TV through his decade-long run as the host of Larry Smith’s Cartoon Club on WXIX-TV. In addition to “Batty Hattie from Cincinnati,” Teaser the Mouse and Rudy the Rooster, the central canine character in this puppet menagerie was Snarfy R. Dog.

WEBN’s Program Director

When radio station WEBN first went on the air from a small, blue Considine Avenue house on “Price’s Mountain,” the owner and chief on-air personality, attorney Frank Wood Sr., was meticulous in crediting the talents of program director Miles Duffy. Visitors to the station may have suspected something funny about a dog bowl labeled “Miles.” In fact, Miles Duffy was a cocker spaniel, drafted into that significant position to give the impression WEBN’s employee roster was larger than it was. When Miles went to doggy heaven, the Woods had him taxidermied.

Cincinnati Reds In The Dog House

No review of Cincinnati dogs could be complete, of course, without featuring Marge Schott’s Saint Bernards, known as Schottzie and Schottzie 02. Reds managers were subjected to rubdowns with dog hair in often-vain attempts to attract good luck, groundskeepers had to pick up dog poop off the field, players had to dodge the beasts during pre-game warm-ups and the dogs sat front and center in the team photos during Schott’s ownership of the team.

#cincinnati dogs #danny dumm #marge schott #uncle al #larry smith #big jon and sparkie #cincinnati zoo

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biomic · 7 years

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i hope with the smaller cast build won’t have that problem of the older mentor guy just disappearing all the time like with jun and haima. that’s been tiring

#ghost didn't really have that because sage was around a lot but that mailman dude was straight up gone after the first twelve episodes #kendrix morgan died for our sins #kamen rider for ts

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bethsims-nocc · 3 years

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Game Checklist

☑ Done

☐ To Do

A checklist of Sims to create if I custom-design everybody in my save game, for my own reference. Please let me know if I’ve left anything out.

Feel free to copy/paste to use for yourself.

Services

☑ Mailman, 1

☐ Fireman, 2

☑ Pizza Delivery, 1

☑ Maid, 1

☑ Repair, 1

☑ Adoption, 1

☑ Nanny, 1

☑ Restaurant Critic, 1

☑ Master Fisherman, 1

☐ Master Gardener, 1

☐ Gardener Service, 1

☑ Forest Ranger, 1

☑ Bear, 1

☑ Hermit, 1

☑ Santa, 1

☐ Easter Bunny, 1

☑ Sad Clown, 1

☐ Bar Regular, 3

☐ DJ, 1

☐ Masseuse, 1?

☐ Reflexologist, 2?

☐ Vendor, 8

☐ Butler, 6

☑ Producer, 4

☑ Director, 4

☑ Wardrobe Stylist, 2?

☑ Makeup Artist, 2?

☑ Camera Operator, 3?

☑ Special Effects Operator, 1

☐ Island Elemental, 4

☐ Magic Sage, 3

☐ Gym Trainer, 1

Tricky Services

☐ Bartenders, 8?

☐ Paparazzi, 5?

☐ Yoga Instructor, 1

☑ Librarian, 3?

☐ University Roommates, ??

☑ Landlord, 1

Occult

☑ Aliens, 8

☑ Ghosts, 10+

☐ Mermaids, 8

☐ Spellcasters, 10+

☑ Vampires, 8

☐ Potential Werewolves, 8

☐ Potential Fairies, 6

Careers

☑ Actor, 8

☐ Astronaut, Ranger, Smuggler, 5

☑ Athlete, Pro, Bodybuilder, 5

☐ Babysitter, 1

☐ Barista, 3

☐ Business, Manager, Investor, 5

☐ Civil Designer, Planner, Tech, 5

☐ Conservationist, Environmental, Marine, 5

☐ Criminal, Boss, Oracle, 5

☐ Critic, Art, Food, 5

☐ Culinary, Chef, Mixologist, 5

☑ Detective, 8

☐ Diver, 3

☐ Doctor, 8

☐ Education, Administration, Professor, Foxbury, Britechester, 9

☐ Engineer, Computer, Mechanical, 5

☐ Entertainer, Music, Comedy, 5

☐ Fast Food, 2

☐ Fisherman, 3

☐ Freelance, Digital Artist, Programmer, Writer, Fashion Photographer, Crafter, Paranormal Investigator, 1+

☐ Gardener, Botanist, Floral Designer, 5

☐ Law, Judge, Attorney, 5

☐ Lifeguard, 3

☐ Manual Labor, 2

☑ Military, Covert, Officer, Strangerville Covert, Strangerville Officer, 6

☐ Painter, Master, Patron, 5

☐ Politics, Politician, Charity, 5

☐ Retail Employee, 2

☐ Salaryperson, Expert, Supervisor, 5

☑ Scientist, Strangerville Scientist, 10+

☐ Scout, Child, Teen, 7

☐ Secret Agent, Agent, Villain, 5

☐ Social Media, Internet Personality, Public Relations, 5

☐ Style Influencer, Trendsetter, Stylist, 5

☐ Tech Guru, Gamer, Entrepreneur, 5

☐ Writer, Author, Journalist 5

University Majors

☐ Art History, Foxbury, Britechester (H), 6

☐ Biology, Foxbury (H), Britechester, 6

☑ Communications, Foxbury, Britechester (H), 6

☑ Computer Science, Foxbury (H), Britechester, 6

☐ Culinary Arts, Foxbury, Britechester (H), 6

☐ Drama, Foxbury, Britechester (H), 6

☑ Economics, Foxbury (H), Britechester, 6

☑ Fine Art, Foxbury, Britechester (H), 6

☐ History, Foxbury, Britechester (H), 6

☑ Language and Literature, Foxbury, Britechester (H), 6

☐ Physics, Foxbury (H), Britechester, 6

☑ Psychology, Foxbury (H), Britechester, 6

☑ Villainy, Foxbury (H), Britechester, 6

Retail

☐ Bakery, 3 Staff

☑ Garden Center, 3 Staff

☐ Grocery, 3 Staff

☐ New Age, Herbs, Crystals, Potions, Books, 3 Staff

☐ Pet Store, 3 Staff

☐ Survivalist Shop, 3 Staff

☑ Vet Clinic, 3 Staff

Restaurant

☐ Chinese, 5 Staff

☑ Diner, 5 Staff

☐ Experimental, 5 Staff

☑ Ice Cream Parlor, 5 Staff

☐ Indian, 5 Staff

☐ Mexican, 5 Staff

☐ Seafood, 5 Staff

☐ Sushi, 5 Staff

☐ Tea Room, 5 Staff

Batuu

☑ Citizens, Human, Alien, 10+

☑ First Order Officers, 5

☐ Rebels, 8

☑ Scoundrels, 8

☐ Stormtroopers, 8

Other

☐ Celebrity, 8

☐ Celebrity Fans, 8+

☐ Conspiracy Theorist, 6

☐ Criminal for Detective Career, 6

☐ E-Sports Competitor, 4

☐ Drama Club, 4

☐ Soccer Team, 4

☐ Islanders, 8

☐ Selvadoradians, 6

☐ Komorebi Local, 6

☐ Campers, 8

☐ Love Guru, 1

☐ Moving Statue, 2

☐ Weirdo, 2

Flavor

☑ LGBTQ+, College, General, 10+

☐ Hippies, 5

☐ Farmers, 5

☐ Deadbeats, 4

☐ Homeless, 5

☐ Teen Vampire Fans, 8

☐ Teen UFO Chasers, 6

☐ Archaeologists, 3

☐ Psychics, 3

☑ Superhero, 1

☑ Supervillain, 1

#Sims 4

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imvasic · 9 months

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[ID: Two flags with nine horizontal stripes, the middle of which is thicker. In order, they are light sage green, light purple, pink, light yellow, light green, light yellow, pink, light purple, and light sage green. In the middle of the second flag is an icon of a light indigo flower with an off-white center and a dark yellow-green stem and leaves. /End ID.]

wilmeadowan

wilmeadowan (while-meadow-un) - a florauna gender connected to the stillness of mountain meadow. this gender smells like wildflowers and is also connected to the colors of wildflowers, the sounds of birds chirping and bees buzzing around, the feeling of a gentle breeze, and the feeling of soft warm sunshine.

term 2 for day 3 of @gender-mailman's 1466 followers event! theme - florauna

#. . . download complete! | coining #. . . change settings | genders #wilmeadowan #mailman1466 #florauna #floragender #biogender #mogai coining #mogai friendly #mogai term #mogai flag #mogai heaven #liom gender #liom term #liom community #liom coining #liom #mogai

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sageadvicednd · 3 years

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Is there a "God of mailman/mail" in the Forgotten Realms?

Is there a “God of mailman/mail” in the Forgotten Realms?

Follow up question to that, Sage: Is there a “God of mailman/mail” in the Realms/Toril? A god that most people who do delivery or any sort of job that requires carrying stuff across great distances pray to so that they (and their packages) arrive safely/without any harm? — Ed Greenwood (@TheEdVerse) February 10, 2020 1) No, there’s no such divine portfolio. Folk pray for safe delivery to the…

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#ForgottenRealms

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vrgamertc · 4 years

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John Prine was an Army veteran walking a U.S. Postal Service beat in Chicago and writing songs on the side when Kris Kristofferson heard him and helped spread the word about Prine’s gifts. Pretty soon, he resigned as a letter carrier; his supervisor snickered, “You’ll be back.” Nearly 50 years later, this January, he was given a lifetime achievement Grammy for his contributions to songwriting. The singing mailman almost always had the last laugh.

Prine, who died on Tuesday from complications of the coronavirus, was legitimately unique. He took familiar blues themes — my baby left me — but filled them with whimsy and kindness. He liked a saucy lyric, and wrote movingly, in character, of the quiet lives and loneliness of humdrum people. He seemed like a Zen sage and offered an uncynical live-and-let-live morality in his songs, writing in a colloquial voice that revealed a love of the way Americans speak. He showed how much humor you could put in a song and still be taken seriously. He had less in common with any other songwriter than he did with Mark Twain.

He grew up in Maywood, a western suburb of Chicago, and was reared by working-class parents from Kentucky, where he often spent summers with relatives and fell in love with country music and bluegrass. By 13, he was performing in rural jamborees. When he debuted in 1971, in his mid-20s, he sounded like an old man already, so years later, when he got old and went through two cancer treatments, he still sounded like himself. From his first to his last, he wrote songs that were tender, hilarious, and wise, without grandstanding any of these traits. Here are 15 of the best.

‘Angel From Montgomery’ (1971)

“Angel From Montgomery,” his best-known song, begins with a little declarative startle: “I am an old woman, named after my mother.” It’s an incisive and terrifying look at the dissatisfactions of a bad marriage and a woman’s sense of being economically trapped in her misery. Bonnie Raitt recorded it three years later and uncovered some of the song’s dormant melodies.

‘Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You Into Heaven Anymore’ (1971)

Prine’s self-titled 1971 debut album is a playlist all its own; it has more great songs than a lot of respected songwriters have in their entire careers. The moral stance of this sprightly folk-rock ditty is a response to what he saw as sham patriotism during the Nixon years, and it remains relevant: “Jesus don’t like killing/No matter what the reason’s for.” Prine, a former altar boy, stopped playing it live for a number of years, but when George W. Bush became president, Prine said, “I thought I’d bring it back.”

‘Hello in There’ (1971)

Some fans and critics are put off by this song and its slightly lesser companion, “Sam Stone,” which they see as performative displays of sensitivity toward the vulnerable, or what we now call virtue signaling. Yet somehow, we don’t ever criticize singers for signaling vices and meanness. Prine sings in the voice of an old married man with a dead son, who spends his days in silence and loneliness, and who at the end of the song, asks people to be kind to the elderly.

‘The Frying Pan’ (1972)

For his second album, “Diamonds in the Rough,” Prine assembled a small, mostly acoustic band and pursued a front-porch, Appalachian simplicity. Like a lot of his songs, this one takes a lighthearted view of domestic complications: A man comes home and discovers his wife has run off with a traveling salesman. He cries miserably, recounts what he loved about her (“I miss the way she used to yell at me/The way she used to cuss and moan”), and full of pride, comes to the wrong conclusion: Never leave your wife at home.

‘Please Don’t Bury Me’ (1973)

For people who love Prine’s music, there’s some small solace in listening to his songs about death, which have the same sense of mischief and acceptance as the ones about broken marriages. (Try “Mexican Home” or “He Was in Heaven Before He Died.”) The narrator is dead, and as angels explain to him how it happened, they also recap his last wish: to not be dropped into a cold grave, but to be put to practical use, as an organ donor: “I’d druther have ’em cut me up/And pass me all around.” A kind of recycling anthem from his terrific third album, “Sweet Revenge.”

‘You Never Can Tell’ (1975)

Almost like an apology, Prine concludes “Sweet Revenge,” a grieving, downhearted album, with an exuberant Chuck Berry cover, one great writer nodding to another. The Memphis R&B guitarist Steve Cropper produced the record and put together a crack horn section, which pushes ahead of some barrelhouse piano. Prine wasn’t a rocker, but he could rock.

‘That’s the Way the World Goes Round’ (1978)

Prine seemed to have an unlimited ability to expand and vary songwriting structures and perspectives. This track, which has been covered by Miranda Lambert and Norah Jones, has two verses: In the first, the narrator describes a drunk who “beats his old lady with a rubber hose,” and in the second, the narrator gets stuck in a frozen bathtub (it’s hard to explain) and imagines the worst until a sudden sun thaws him out. Both verses illustrate the refrain: that’s the way the world goes round. Even when circumstances are bad in Prine songs, he favors optimism and acceptance.

‘Iron Ore Betty’ (1978)

A lot of Prine songs celebrate physical pleasure: food, dancing and sex, which he gallantly prefers to call “making love.” The working-class singer in this soulful, up-tempo shuffle feels unreserved delight at having a girlfriend (“We receive our mail in the same mailbox/And we watch the same TV”), and wants us to know he and Betty aren’t just friends (“I got rug burns on my elbows/She’s got ’em on her knees”). OK guy, we get it.

‘Just Wanna Be With You’ (1980)

A stomping number from “Storm Windows” in the style of Chuck Berry, with the Rolling Stones sideman Wayne Perkins on guitar. Prine’s lyrics don’t distinguish between reality and absurdity — they don’t clash, they mix — and here’s one more way to say you’re happy and in love: “I don’t even care what kind of gum I chew.” And another: “Lonely won’t be lonesome when we get through.”

‘Let’s Talk Dirty in Hawaiian’ (1986)

Prine had a sideline in novelty songs, which give full voice to his comic absurdity, throwaways that are worth saving, including the 1973 semi-hit “Dear Abby,” and this now-problematic number from “German Afternoons” inspired by a paperback book called “Instant Hawaiian.” Prine and his co-writer Fred Koller began making up Hawaiian-sounding nonsense words full of sexual innuendo, and Lloyd Green added airport-Tiki-bar bar steel guitar for maximum faux authenticity. You can say Prine’s loving disposition makes the song OK, and you can also say it doesn’t.

‘All the Best’ (1991)

After five years away, Prine returned with “The Missing Years,” a Grammy-winning album produced by Howie Epstein, Tom Petty’s bass player. The singer in this gentle, masterly miniature claims to want good things for an ex-lover, but feelings aren’t simple: “I wish you don’t do like I do/And never fall in love with someone like you” twists the knife. Now recording for his own label, Oh Boy Records, Prine was about to hit a hot streak.

‘Lake Marie’ (1995)

Bob Dylan, who was a huge fan, called the haunted, mysterious “Lake Marie” his favorite Prine song, and who are we to disagree with Dylan on the topic of songwriting? Even though Epstein’s booming production draws too much attention to itself, “Lost Dogs + Mixed Blessings” is full of winners: the simple, loving ballad “Day is Done,” the rapid-fire doggerel of “We Are the Lonely” and the calm, ornery “Quit Hollerin’ at Me,” where Prine tells his wife that the neighbors “already think my name is ‘Where in the hell you been?’”

‘In Spite of Ourselves’ (1999)

Prine was diagnosed with cancer, and doctors removed a tumor from the right side of his neck, which took away his already-modest ability to project his voice. But incredibly, his stolid singing was now perfect for harmonies, and he cut a duets album called “In Spite of Ourselves” with female country and Americana singers. On its one original song, Prine and Iris DeMent trade backhanded compliments (“She thinks all my jokes are corny/Convict movies make her horny”) that read like a divorce complaint, but turn out to be only pillow talk.

‘Some Humans Ain’t Human’ (2005)

At seven minutes and three seconds, this track from “Fair and Square” is the longest song on any of his studio albums. A cloud of slide guitar keeps this soft waltz afloat and allows Prine to express his disapproval of, if not contempt for, so-called humans who lack empathy for others. There’s a couplet that is clearly about George W. Bush, and Prine noticed that some audience members were surprised by it. “I never tried to rub it in anybody’s face, but I thought it was pretty clear that I wasn’t a closet Republican,” he told the Houston Press.

‘When I Get to Heaven’ (2018)

In 2013, doctors removed the cancerous part of Prine’s left lung, which sidelined and weakened him. It’s hard now to listen to his final album, “The Tree of Forgiveness,” which was nominated for three Grammys, and not think that Prine heard the clock ticking louder. There’s so much tenderness in “Knockin’ on Your Screen Door,” about a man whose family left him with only an 8-track tape of George Jones, and in the elegiac, reassuring parental entreaty “Summer’s End.” In the last song, “When I Get to Heaven,” Prine describes his ideal afterlife: a rock band, a cushy hotel, a girl, a cocktail (“vodka and ginger ale”) and “a cigarette that’s nine miles long.” He removes his watch, and asks, “What are you gonna do with time after you’ve bought the farm?”

#IFTTT #WordPress

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shadow-and-purgatory · 5 years

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Chapter 3: Magic, Midnight Excursions, and Mysterious Strangers

The lake water was still, which would normally have been odd, since there were always either campers or animals moving around in the water. However, it was four in the morning, so no one in their right mind was awake, and those who were awake were being quiet in their cabins.

There was only one person who was awake at this ungodly hour. Lucretia, the oldest in the CIT program, sat on top of the dome shaped CIT house, staring at the mist as it settled on the lake. (No one had ever seen her sleep, and the CITs debated quietly amongst themselves whether or not she did in fact sleep.) The biggest dome on camp belonged to the CITs, and it was up on a bluff called Dalginback Point.

Lucretia could see someone moving down on camp, which was odd, unless it was Minerva, prepping for swordplay lessons. She squinted. It wasn’t Minerva. It looked like-

“Lucas?”

Now, I mentioned earlier that it’d be odd for anyone in their right mind to be awake at four in the morning. However, Lucas Miller could be considered exempt from this oddity, since he wasn’t in his right mind.

Maureen Miller’s family had helped design the layout for the camp, and also happened to be Lucas’s mother. She’d sent him to Camp Faerun with the hopes that he’d become a bit better as a person.

This excursion before the sun had fully risen showed that he was still being sneaky, and Maureen probably should have sent him to a better camp on the whole.

Why he was awake and moving around, Lucretia didn’t know. However, what she did know was that whatever he could possibly be doing at four am, it probably wasn’t good. She flipped herself onto her belly and slid down to the ground.

The CIT went inside and walked over to the couch where Avi had passed out. “Avi,” she whispered. “Avi, wake up.”

He didn’t move.

Lucretia grabbed a pillow and used it to nudge him.

Avi just mumbled incoherently and rolled over.

“Fine,” Lucretia said with a resigned sigh. “Time to resort to more drastic measures.” She nudged him with the pillow, which did nothing. She pushed him off the couch. “Avi!”

“Whashappeningimawake!” the CIT mumbled quickly as he shook his head to wake himself up. He blinked a few times. Lucretia could see his face’s automatic tendency to smile waging war against his annoyance and confusion at being woken up. In the end, his expression settled on a sleepy half-smile that was somewhere between irritation and his resting grin.

“Hey Lucretia,” Avi said with a yawn. “What time is it?” he asked, squinting at the window.

“About ten after four. Anyways, there’s something I want you to check up on later. Earlier, I saw-” She stopped when she saw Avi’s dead, uncomprehending eyes, staring up at her blankly. “Avi? Are you listening to me?”

Avi’s response was a slow blink. “Ten after four,” he repeated.

Lucretia made a noise that managed to be both a laugh and a disappointed sigh. “Yes, Avi. Ten minutes after four AM.”

Avi sighed unhappily. “Alright,” he said. “Is there a fire?”

“No, but-”

“A flood?”

“Well, n-”

“Did someone get bitten by a poisonous snake?”

“It’s ‘venomous,’ but-”

“Then why, in the fuck, would you wake me up, at ten after four?” Avi asked.

“Well, um,” Lucretia said, a little bit nervous.

“Please, if it can wait, just let me go back to sleep. I was up all night working on my CIT book; I’m so tired.” He’d gone from irritated to pleading in the span of a few seconds. Lucretia could see the dark circles under his eyes. “If I can do it in a few hours, then I’ll do it in a few hours.”

Lucretia hesitated, tugging nervously on the bracelet that she’d gotten when she’d first started as a camper at Camp Faerun. She felt bad about waking him up, but Avi was the only CIT that had both a driver’s license as well as permission to drive the camp cars.

“It can wait,” she said. “You get some sleep, and I’ll have all my facts straight by the end of breakfast.”

Avi smiled gratefully. He stood up, and walked into the male sleeping area.

Lucretia smiled and pulled out the book she’d been reading, and waited for breakfast.

******

“Why isn’t the shredded cheese melting?” Lup asked, staring at her plate of scrambled eggs.

“Hm?” Davenport asked with a yawn.

“These eggs are hot, but the shredded cheese isn’t melting. That seems wrong, somehow.”

Taako leaned over. “It’s because,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper, “the cheese is fake.”

Aubrey set her tray down across the table from the twins. “Wanna see something cool?” she asked.

“Is it a dog?” Magnus asked.

“No dogs at camp.” Lucretia walked into the dining hall behind Killian. The CITs moved into single file line as they went into the kitchen.

Magnus drooped. “Right.”

“Cheer up Maggie,” Aubrey said. “Watch this!” She pulled a card out of a pocket on her sleeve.

“It’s a card,” Taako pointed out. “What’s so cool about a card?”

“Behold!” Aubrey flourished her hand dramatically, tapping the card. The flourish was, unfortunately, too big, and she dropped it. As it fell, it vanished without a trace.

Aubrey smiled triumphantly. “Voila!”

Magnus’s eyes went wide. “How’d you do that?” he demanded.

“Magic.”

“But I wanna know how you did the magic.”

“Magnus, I’m not allowed to tell you how I did it. It’s magic.”

Lup grinned. “Yeah Maggie. First rule of the magician's code is to never reveal your secrets.”

Magnus sighed disappointedly.

“Sorry buddy,” Taako said with a shrug. “Them’s the breaks.”

Magnus nodded. He looked around. “I’m gonna go talk to Julia,” he said, getting up. He walked over to another table and began to chat with her.

As soon as he left, Taako and Lup leaned over the table.

“Flash paper?” Lup whispered.

“Flash paper.”

“But then how’d you ignite it?” Lup asked in a whisper. “‘Cause I didn’t see a match or anything.”

Aubrey removed her glove to reveal a match concealed in the fingertip. “It was still hot when I touched the card. To stop myself from getting burned, I had a damp piece of non flammable cloth between the match and my finger.” Aubrey winked. “Or maybe it was just magic.” She removed the match and put it in her empty cereal carton, covering it up with the lid.

“Who can say?” Lup agreed with a sage nod.

Sloane was eating breakfast at a table with Minerva, Hollis, and Keith. “So, Minerva,” she said, pouring milk into her Lucky Charms. “You seem...uh...” She trailed off uncomfortably before taking a bite of her cereal.

“What is it, Sloane?” Minerva asked. She was grinning like a kid, and kept glancing around.

“You seem very excited,” Hollis offered between bites of bacon.

“It is nothing to worry about, Hollis. Today is going to be a very good day, I think.”

Sloane and the bikers looked at each other dubiously. Duck Newton walked into the dining hall, and Minerva walked over excitedly.

“Duck Newton!” she exclaimed, tapping him on the shoulder.

Duck stiffened. “Jesus Christ, Minerva.”

“Duck Newton, I have a surprise for you!”

Duck squinted at her. “What does that me-”

“Oh, uh, hey Duck?” Barry asked. He was looking out the corner of his eyes nervously.

“Hey Barry. What’s up?”

“Um, there’s a strange man pressing his face into the window,” Barry said. “I just thought I should let you know.”

Duck nodded, trying to hide his concern. “That’s uh, that’s probably just the mailman- wait, fuck, it’s Sunday isn’t it? It’s, erm, it’s my personal...” He looked around for inspiration. On the nearest table was a container of CB batteries. “...battery...finder?” he finished lamely.

Barry raised an eyebrow. “‘Battery finder?’”

Duck sighed. “Yeah, I’ll go check it out. Minerva, do you want to go- Minerva? Why are you making that face?”

The swordplay instructor was smiling the biggest smile that either of them had ever seen, the Joker being the only exception. “Not to worry, Duck Newton! I will accompany you to uncover the identity of this mysterious stranger.” She looked gleeful.

“Minerva, do you know something about this?” Duck asked suspiciously.

“Onward!” Minerva turned around to follow Barry.

Duck took a deep breath. “It’s still early,” he muttered. He followed Barry and Minerva to the door, but when Barry was about to leave the building, Duck stopped him. “Barry, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you need to stay inside, okay?”

Barry gave him a thumbs up. “Got it.”

“Duck Newton, I have brought a gift for you!” Minerva said. “I think that you will like it very much.”

“Minerva!” he groaned.

“Wait here!”

Duck sighed. “Minerva!” He walked after her. As he rounded the corner, he stopped in his tracks. It was, in fact, a weird guy. Duck knew this weird guy.

That creepy grin. The horrifyingly flexible torso. The multiple knives. The slow drawl. “Hello, Duck Newton.”

“Christ. Minerva, why is my cousin here? Why would you bring him?”

Minerva frowned. “I thought you would be excited to see him.”

“Minerva, I have never spoken fondly about Beacon in my entire life.”

“So,” Beacon drawled, “how long am I going to be a camper here?”

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