#Web Edge Guide System

[aamputation]

SVSSS AU ... Benevolent System 0.3

related to [THIS] Shen Yuan art and -> [1st] [2nd] [4th]

As didi had promised, the little System had immediately chimed in with a mission the second Shen Yuan had appeared in the world. Granted, the mission was kind of important– seeing as he didn’t have a weapon aside from the Benevolent System Fan that held didi yet, and completing the quest would provide him with an honest-to-Airplane spiritual blade, which in his millennial nerd brain was more tempting than even the limited edition, limited run release of that Hatsune Miku statue he’d special ordered from Japan. 

According to the mission blurb that had appeared on the surface of his fan, the spiritual weapon Shen Yuan was supposed to be looking for was based on an old legend. Even as obsessive as Shen Yuan is about the world-building and lore of PIDW (including the monsters, of course) he can hardly remember much about the weapon as it was mentioned in the actual web novel. As far as he can remember, it was only vaguely mentioned in passing—something to do with one of Bingge’s wives, somewhere in the mid-triple-digits. It was a legendary semi-sentient blade created by an ancient Beast Cultivator, and was so powerful (but not more powerful than Xin Mo, of course) that if one were to be chosen to wield it, they would be able to communicate with and control even the wildest creatures—any number of beasts who roamed the mountains, oceans, and skies could become as docile as a lapdog! The possibilities were endless, one could amass a beast army to span the Human and Demon Realms, probably even the Abyss as well!

Naturally, upon hearing all of this from didi, Shen Yuan’s first thought is: sorry, wife number two-hundred something, but there is absolutely zero chance anyone else is getting their hands on that blade! 

As you well know, dear reader, the chaotic whims of fate all but doomed Shen Yuan the second he set foot into his favorite trash fire web novel’s setting. Now that he’s been living in the PIDW world for a short while, there’s one thing he knows for sure, and it’s that fate has a wicked sense of humor. Thus, our intrepid transmigrator followed the quest instructions to a tee, only to be held up when he realized he needed a guide to navigate the next branch of the quest. And so here he is, marching into the heart of the Steelwood Wilds on the edge of the Borderlands where monster-ridden trials await him with her at his side—Yin Xue, wife number 234—a rogue beast cultivator far too skilled for her own good, and who would not have been out of place in Ling You, Cang Qiong’s Beast Taming Peak. 

Shen Yuan curses the heavens above and subtly shakes his fan as a punishment for didi—the little shit should have warned him about this! He’s going to have to tread very carefully, lest he get suckered into some shitty romantic subplot with pretty characters that definitely are not his to conquer! Granted, she’s an infant right now in the story, barely older than eleven by the looks of things, so Shen Yuan will happily keep himself safely in the role of weird senior cultivator. Of course, since his luck is apparently abysmal, the plot has decided that she would be the one guiding him through the treacherous terrain. In truth, dear reader, despite his obvious seniority, Shen Yuan’s pride is suffering as he is not being guided so much as being dragged along, while the precocious tween makes snide comments about his incompetence.

“Are you sure you’re even qualified to hold a blade, Shen qianbei?” Yin Xue peers at him with one raised eyebrow as her beast companion—a still-growing bird as dark as ink that he recognizes as an Ironwing Falcon—lets loose a short, soft screech from its perch on her shoulder, as if sensing the real threat they are to face is not within the forest, but is in fact Shen Yuan’s complete lack of practical skills. 

Indignant, Shen Yuan puffs up his chest even though he knows deep down that his only real skillset he has in his arsenal right now is his ability to fake it til he makes it. He can only pretend to be competent long enough to get through the worst of what this trash fire universe will inevitably sicc on him. Obviously he can’t sword fight (at least not without some serious Matrix-style training with didi’s help) and his cultivation skills are basic at best, despite essentially having cheatcode-ed his way into the late core formation stage. All he truly has are a fancy fan that’s all but a deus ex machina, as well as his own frantic wits. 

“It’s just a blade,” he sniffs, forcefully maintaining an air of manufactured confidence. “It’s not that special.”

Yin Xue, of course, doesn’t seem convinced. She crosses her arms and stares at him with an intensity that makes Shen Yuan regret his entire existence.

“Maybe,” she replies, choosing her words carefully, “but it’s definitely not just a blade. It’s the blade. The one that makes people tame the beasts, bend the wilds to their whims, and—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, xiao Xue,” Shen Yuan interrupts her quickly. He genuinely doesn’t need another lecture from this toddler. “It’s important. I’m going to find it. I’m going to become the most incredible Beast Scholar in this entire world—oi, don’t look at me like that, I have a plan.” His voice wavers slightly on the word plan, but he can’t let her see that. He has to maintain his facade.

Yin Xue shoots him a suspicious glance before nodding curtly and signaling him to move forward. “I hope Shen qianbei’s plan involves not dying before we reach the last known location mentioned in the legend.”

Silently, Shen Yuan prays for the same.

The Wilds are far more dangerous than he could have imagined, even knowing all the ins-and-outs of the PIDW world as befits his giant fanboy status. Within minutes of stepping inside the dense, dark forest a giant, rampaging Ironhide Serpent-Tailed Bear comes crashing through the trees, its roar shaking the ground beneath him. Shen Yuan will admit that he freezes, his eyes widening with his ripple of fanboy excitement before his palms grow increasingly clammy with fear as reality sets in. The thought: that fucking thing could kill me! blares like a klaxon in his head on repeat. Of course, Yin Xue the thrice-damned child doesn’t even flinch, which causes Shen Yuan to call out in alarm.

“Xiao Xue!”

But as she simply swings out her arm, releasing both her Falcon and her potent qi-infused whip, he is reminded of the fact that even as a child, she’s far more experienced than him. Hell, the kid is actually well into the early qi condensation phase. Within moments, both girl and bird are deep into battle with the behemoth. 

“Shit shit shit– uhh, didi? A little help!?”

《 Of course, [Host]! This didi is ready and willing to assist! {UPLOADING TRAINING PROGRAM…} 》

《 {INITIALIZING.TUTORIAL:MARTIALFAN_ARTSv5.7.pkg} 》

《 … 100% ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ!  》

《 «𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠…» 》

Shen Yuan hisses while his mind is inundated with boundless knowledge, stretching his mental limits. His qi rages in his meridians and he inhales sharply as the sensation of his bones and muscles ripping themselves apart overtakes him, followed by a swell of nausea as they seem to be rebuilding all at once. The process is agonizing in its intensity. He gags, the pain making his vision darken at the edges before as suddenly as it had come, he’s back to normal. Although, it’s not truly normal. He can feel the way that didi has burned the practical knowledge of the fan arts into his brain, forcing his body to undergo all the training required to use such skill in the span of seconds rather than decades. He wipes his mouth and swears violently as the Ironhide Serpent-Tailed Bear enters his range. He moves smoothly into a fighting stance.

“Holy–!”

Shen Yuan moves, but it feels almost like autopilot. He knows it’s him doing the fighting, it’s his body performing the actions, the strikes; and it’s his mind issuing the commands to execute it all, but it’s so surreal how natural it feels despite having never learned any of it before this very moment. As his fan deflects another strike from the venomous tail the beast is named for, Shen Yuan spins and sends a blast of qi-infused compressed air at it just as Yin Xue’s spiritual whip makes contact, the colliding forces ultimately ripping the monster apart in seconds.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Yin Xue crows with the confidence of someone who’s used to killing monsters even before breakfast. “Why didn’t you say you were a Wu Shan master, Shen dashi?!” Yin Xue bounces excitedly in place, her youth even more obvious in her behavior, “Just think: if you had a proper blade, you would be even more unstoppable!”

“Right,” Shen Yuan mutters, as if the entire moment where he stood there like a deranged gaping fish wasn’t incredibly embarrassing enough. 

“What happened to your old sword, anyway, Shen dashi?”

“Uh, let’s just say I left it worlds away, hm?”

Yin Xue wrinkles her nose, but doesn’t press. “Okay, whatever you say, dashi…”

By the time the duo manage to reach the altar where the legendary blade is rumored to be confined, Shen Yuan has never been so glad for didi’s presence before in his life. The System really has been working overtime, offering warnings and alerts as they continue to navigate through the forest. With didi’s help, Shen Yuan unlocks a few additional cultivation skills almost like he’s in an RPG, levelling up his Talisman and Array skills to a mid rank level. It leaves him breathless, nauseous, and lightheaded each time, but the rush when flexing his newfound abilities is like no other. Yin Xue grows more and more attached to him as he reveals more of his hidden skills—he feels a little bad deceiving such a cute kid like he is, but there’s no denying the delight he gets from watching her eyes widen in excitement and awe every time he breaks through a challenge’s barrier like tissue paper.

The passing thought of collecting cute little disciples crosses his mind, but he dismisses the idea before it fully forms. A wanderer’s life is no place for a child to grow up in. 

Shen Yuan stares at the altar, a rustic stone monolith that serves as a tomb for the blade. Ancient vines and various flora of an ominous nature twine around the shrine itself, and there is a strange energy around the altar—almost like an invisible weight pressing down on him. He can see where the blade is sealed, just out of reach. Even behind its mystical barrier, Shen Yuan can feel the way it pulses with a wild power, the very untamed nature of it making his heart race. 

“Shen dashi,” Yin Xue murmurs, awestruck, “we found it!”

“Mn,” he hums in response, his eyes travelling over the surface of the monolith as he searches for a way to dispel the barrier array. He does a double take as his eyes catch on something engraved in the ancient stone. He steps closer, eyes narrowing as he murmurs aloud the inscription.

“Toothless jaws strike to the bone. Held in a grip and tame the wild—both beast and blade become beguiled.”

“What does that mean, Shen dashi? Is it… some kind of riddle?”

Shen Yuan furrows his brow, tapping his chin with his fan in thought. He feels the need to solve this on his own, and he has a feeling that didi wouldn’t help him even if he’d asked. This is part of his quest, after all; he has to complete his very first System Mission on his own or he’ll never get anywhere in this world. Didi is an amazing resource—basically a giant OP cheat code—but Shen Yuan wants to be able to rely on himself as much as he can, although he is incredibly grateful for his cute little system’s help.

“... toothless jaws… strike to the bone… in a grip…”

Shen Yuan scowls, furiously wracking his brain as he considers possible answers. It feels annoyingly Tolkien-esque, and although he’s adored the author’s books for years, he’s not exactly well adept at translating riddles. He stares at the shortsword where it remains, suspended in air inside the sealed barrier array, his eyes catching on something that seems to have been embossed onto the sword’s sheath. He steps closer, squinting as his mouth moves involuntarily, reading aloud the words.

“Yu Shou Shi… Ren ..?” 

The Beastmaster’s Blade? What kind of unimaginative–

Suddenly, it happens.

The ripple of qi is the only warning Shen Yuan gets before the barrier array explodes outward. He barely has a second to shield Yin Xue from the shock-wave as it hits them—it feels like he’s been cored out, the energy carving through him and the residual foreign qi echoing in his battered meridians.

The blade chose him.

He stumbles down to one knee, not processing Yin Xue’s panicked cries as he blinks, dumbfounded. He looks back over his shoulder where the blade remains suspended but no longer trapped behind the array. It moves in mid-air and he only has a second to react as it flies into his hand, as though it has been waiting for him all along. The moment it makes contact, the world shifts.

His thoughts become clearer. He can hear the thrum of the blade’s soul, as wild and untamed as any beast, yet purring like a domesticated cat in his grasp. Shen Yuan can sense the blade’s fraternity with its fellow beasts, he feels their roars, their needs. He’s always been fascinated with the beasts of the Great Master Airplane’s world, but his belief that they aren’t enemies to be feared is only reinforced—with this blade in hand, they are his subjects to be understood.

Yin Xue, hands trembling where she reaches for his kneeling form, takes a cautious step closer. “You… it picked you!”

Shen Yuan’s fingers tighten around the snowy-white hilt. In his hands it doesn’t feel like a simple weapon, but a promise. He has no idea what he’s getting into, allowing this half-feral semi-sentient weapon imprint on him, but for the first time since his arrival in the PIDW world, he feels genuine excitement as he considers his future here.

“I guess…” he says, glancing at his blade with new understanding. “Maybe being here is worth it after all.”

Yin Xue tilts her head at him, confused but grinning. There’s genuine warmth in her voice when she speaks. “They say the Beastmaster’s Blade is untameable, but… don’t let it tame you, Shen dashi.”

Shen Yuan nods, smiling down at her as he pats her head. She leans into the touch like a contented cat, her smile brightening. He feels the determination solidify in his heart. He will definitely use this blade, that it chose him is a blessing he’ll not soon forget. He will write the best bestiary this garbage fire of a world has ever seen—if only to prove that he’s worthy of the incredible weapon in his hands. 

But as the saying goes, dear reader, “even the smallest stones can create the greatest ripples,” and although Shen Yuan isn’t aware of his own influence yet, the consequences will drastically change this world he’s landed in—hopefully, for the better.

[1st] [2nd] < > [4th]

shout out to adornedwithlight for the reblog banner

[maryellencarter]

YouTube Downloads through VLC: Step by Step

[EDIT: I've been receiving reports for some time now that this method no longer works. I suspect something about the switch to YouTube Music as a separate app, and/or YouTube's ongoing attempts to force Chrome use, broke the compatibility with the Github version of youtube.luac -- I haven't managed to look into whether there's an updated working version out there yet. Sorry!]

So this guide to easily downloading off YouTube is super helpful, but there's enough important information hidden in the reblogs that (with the permission of OP @queriesntheories ) I'm doing a more step-by-step version.

Please note: these downloads will be in YouTube quality. My test video download is coming through at 360p, even though the video I'm starting from is set to 720p. They're legible, but they won't look great on a TV. For high visual quality, you'll want to seek out other methods.

This guide is written for Windows 10, since that's what I can test on. It's been tested on Firefox, Chrome, and Edge (which is a Chromium browser, so the method should work in other Chromium browsers too). So far, I haven't tracked down a way to use this download method on mobile.

BASIC KNOWLEDGE:

I'll try to make this pretty beginner-friendly, but I am going to assume that you know how to right-click, double-click, navigate right-click menus, click-and-drag, use keyboard shortcuts that are given to you (for example, how to use Ctrl+A), and get the URL for any YouTube video you want to download.

You'll also need to download and install one or more programs off the internet using .exe files, if you don't have these programs already. Please make sure you know how to use your firewall and antivirus to keep your computer safe, and google any names you don't recognize before allowing permission for each file. You can also hover your mouse over each link in this post to make sure it goes where I'm saying it will go.

YOU WILL NEED:

A computer where you have admin permissions. This is usually a computer you own or have the main login on. Sadly, a shared computer like the ones at universities and libraries will not work for this.

Enough space on your computer to install the programs listed below, if you don't have them already, and some space to save your downloaded files to. The files are pretty small because of the low video quality.

A simple text editing program. Notepad is the one that usually comes with Windows. If it lets you change fonts, it's too fancy. A notepad designed specifically to edit program code without messing it up is Notepad++, which you can download here.

A web browser. I use Firefox, which you can get here. Chrome or other Chrome-based browsers should also work. I haven't tested in Safari.

An Internet connection fast enough to load YouTube. A little buffering is fine. The downloads will happen much faster than streaming the entire video, unless your internet is very slow.

VLC Media Player, which you can get here. It's a free player for music and videos, available on Windows, Android, and iOS, and it can play almost any format of video or audio file that exists. We'll be using it for one of the central steps in this process.

If you want just the audio from a YouTube video, you'll need to download the video and then use a different program to copy the audio into its own file. At the end of this post, I'll have instructions for that, using a free sound editor called Audacity.

SETUP TO DOWNLOAD:

The first time you do this, you'll need to set VLC up so it can do what you want. This is where we need Notepad and admin permissions. You shouldn't need to repeat this process unless you're reinstalling VLC.

If VLC is open, close it.

In your computer's file system (File Explorer on Windows), go to C:\Program Files\VideoLAN\VLC\lua\playlist

If you're not familiar with File Explorer, you'll start by clicking where the left side shows (C:). Then in the big main window, you'll double-click each folder that you see in the file path, in order - so in this case, when you're in C: you need to look for Program Files. (There will be two of them. You want the one without the x86 at the end.) Then inside Program Files you're looking for VideoLAN, and so forth through the whole path.

Once you're inside the "playlist" folder, you'll see a lot of files ending in .luac - they're in alphabetical order. The one you want to edit is youtube.luac which is probably at the bottom.

You can't edit youtube.luac while it's in this folder. Click and drag it out of the playlist folder to somewhere else you can find it - your desktop, for instance. Your computer will ask for admin permission to move the file. Click the "Continue" button with the blue and yellow shield.

Now that the file is moved, double-click on it. The Microsoft Store will want you to search for a program to open the .luac file type with. Don't go to the Microsoft Store, just click on the blue "More apps" below that option, and you'll get a list that should include your notepad program. Click on it and click OK.

The file that opens up will be absolutely full of gibberish-looking code. That's fine. Use Ctrl+A to select everything inside the file, then Backspace or Delete to delete it. Don't close the file yet.

In your web browser, go to https://github.com/videolan/vlc/blob/master/share/lua/playlist/youtube.lua

Click in the part of the Github page that has a bunch of mostly blue code in it. Use Ctrl+A to select all of that code, Ctrl+C to copy it, then come back into your empty youtube.luac file and use Ctrl+P to paste the whole chunk of code into the file.

Save the youtube.luac file (Ctrl+S or File > Save in the upper left corner of the notepad program), then close the notepad program.

Drag youtube.luac back into the folder it came from. The computer will ask for admin permission again. Give it permission.

Now you can close Github and Notepad. You're ready to start downloading!

HOW TO DOWNLOAD:

First, get your YouTube link. It should look something like this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=abc123DEF45 If it's longer, you can delete any extra stuff after that first set of letters and numbers, but you don't have to.

Now open VLC. Go to Media > Open Network Stream and paste your YouTube link into the box that comes up. Click Play. Wait until the video starts to play, then you can pause it if you want so it's not distracting you during the next part.

(If nothing happens, you probably forgot to put youtube.luac back. coughs)

In VLC, go to Tools > Codec Information. At the bottom of the pop-up box you'll see a long string of gibberish in a box labeled Location. Click in the Location box. It won't look like it clicked properly, but when you press Ctrl+A, it should select all. Use Ctrl+C to copy it.

In your web browser, paste the entire string of gibberish and hit Enter. Your same YouTube video should come up, but without any of the YouTube interface around it. This is where the video actually lives on YouTube's servers. YouTube really, really doesn't like to show this address to humans, which is why we needed VLC to be like "hi I'm just a little video player" and get it for us.

Because, if you're looking at the place where the video actually lives, you can just right-click-download it, and YouTube can't stop you.

Right-click on your video. Choose "Save Video As". Choose where to save it to - I use my computer's built-in Music or Videos folders.

Give it a name other than "videoplayback" so you can tell it apart from your other downloads.

The "Save As Type" dropdown under the Name field will probably default to MP4. This is a good versatile video format that most video players can read. If you need a different format, you can convert the download later. (That's a whole other post topic.)

Click Save, and your video will start downloading! It may take a few minutes to fully download, depending on your video length and internet speed. Once the download finishes, congratulations! You have successfully downloaded a YouTube video!

If you'd like to convert your video into a (usually smaller) audio file, so you can put it on a music player, it's time to install and set up Audacity.

INSTALLING AUDACITY (first time setup for audio file conversion):

You can get Audacity here. If you're following along on Windows 10, choose the "64-bit installer (recommended)". Run the installer, but don't open Audacity at the end, or if it does open, close it again.

On that same Audacity download page, scroll down past the installers to the "Additional resources". You'll see a box with a "Link to FFmpeg library". This is where you'll get the add-on program that will let Audacity open your downloaded YouTube video, so you can tell it to make an audio-only file. The link will take you to this page on the Audacity support wiki, which will always have the most up-to-date information on how to install the file you need here.

From that wiki page, follow the link to the actual FFmpeg library. If you're not using an adblocker, be careful not to click on any of the ads showing you download buttons. The link you want is bold blue text under "FFmpeg Installer for Audacity 3.2 and later", and looks something like this: "FFmpeg_5.0.0_for_Audacity_on_Windows_x86.exe". Download and install it. Without this, Audacity won't be able to open MP4 files downloaded from YouTube.

CONVERTING TO AUDIO:

Make sure you know where to find your downloaded MP4 video file. This file won't go away when you "convert" it - you'll just be copying the audio into a different file.

Open up Audacity.

Go to File > Open and choose your video file.

You'll get one of those soundwave file displays you see in recording booths and so forth. Audacity is a good solid choice if you want to teach yourself to edit soundwave files, but that's not what we're here for right now.

Go to File > Export Audio. The File Name will populate to match the video's filename, but you can edit it if you want.

Click the Browse button next to the Folder box, and choose where to save your new audio file to. I use my computer's Music folder.

You can click on the Format dropdown and choose an audio file type. If you're not sure which one you want, MP3 is the most common and versatile.

If you'd like your music player to know the artist, album, and so forth for your audio track, you can edit that later in File Manager, or you can put the information in with the Edit Metadata button here. You can leave any of the slots blank, for instance if you don't have a track number because it's a YouTube video.

Once everything is set up, click Export, and your new audio file will be created. Go forth and listen!

[jelliefantasy]

blurb that I needed to get out of my system

Smut warning! mdni

insert literally any male character of your choice

you don't know how you ended up in this position.

It was a lazy night and you were already in nothing but a big shirt and panties with your hair in a messy bun. He was in sweats and a loose shirt. You had set up on the couch for your nightly tv time with each other which usually ended with someone falling asleep and the other one dragging them to bed. You thought tonight was going to be no different, till he tapped your check with his two fingers, signalling you to turn your face towards him.

At first it was a harmless make out sesh, slow and sensual with the only purpose of it being close to one another. But when he guided his hands onto your hips and slowly maneuvered you onto his lap, you couldn't help the sigh that left your lips in between gasps of air.

As the kiss intensified, you absentmindedly started to grind down onto his lower abdomen, hoping to relieve some of the slowly building tension that was growing in your core. you didn't realize the effect your actions had on him till he let out a groan after a particularly hard grind of your hips to his pelvis. you finally separate after what feels like an eternity and you both gasp for air.

you only get a few breaths in before you're being lifted from off the couch towards your bedroom, his hands planted firmly on your ass carrying you like you weigh nothing. he pushes the already ajar door open with his foot and wastes no time before placing throwing you onto the bed and you let out a slight giggle that sounded more like a squeal.

you crawl to the top of the bed leaning back onto the many pillows you insisted you needed. after taking off his shirt he crawled his way up to you before meeting your lips once again in a deeper embrace than the last. unlike the last one, this one was slower and felt like there was more purpose to it. after breaking from the embrace once again, he kissed his way to your jaw, then your neck, and finally landing on your collarbone before his hands move to your lower half.

he caressed your thighs which were resting atop his thighs, making your cores as close as possible, then slowly he guided his hands to his hips, right were the band of your panties were. he slides them just enough to have access to your at this point aching pussy. you were so entranced in his lips that were still attacking your collarbone, you hadn't even realized what his fingers were up to until you felt his pointer and index finger ease their way into your entrance.

your head tilted back at the unexpected -but not unwanted- pleasure. as his fingers set a steady rhythm for themselves, his other hand busied itself with removing your shirt. once you picked up on what he was trying to do, you crossed your arms and lifted your shirt above your head as it found its place on the floor next to his previously discarded shirt.

your hands found themselves in his hair as his mouth traveled to your nipple, hand on the other. once his fingers had started to pick up speed, you started to tug slightly at his hair, feeling a knot in your stomach. your whines growing louder and louder with every slight curl of his slender fingers. "f-fuckk.." you moaned out as you were seconds away from releasing.

once he noticed you were getting close, he moved his thumb to your clit to give you the last needed push over the edge. "shit! I'm cumming..!" you moaned and gripped his hair with whatever strength you could manage. he helped you ride out your high before pulling out his webbed fingers that were covered in your slick.

moving up from his spot on your breasts, he made sure that your eyes were locked before bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean of you. his eyes rolled slightly before fluttering shut after tasting you. you bit you lip to suppress any noise that threatened to escape from your lips. "so fuckin sweet baby.." his fingers slid out of his mouth before he leaned into your lips so you could taste yourself. the kiss was sloppy and slow while you explored each others mouths.

separating from the kiss, you feel a sense of confidence surge through you and you push him slightly till he's where you were situated on the bed, your thighs straddling his. leaning close to his ear, you whisper "your turn."

AHEM okay sorry that took longer than expected and I definitely could continue it but for now that's all that needed to be out of my system so you can make up the rest!!!!!

[oddozz]

So, i don't have a twitter or insta anymore to post my occasional art things on. I suppose i'll be doing that here again. Anyways

Some friends and i are going to try out the fan made Fallout TTRPG, Fallout: Vaults & Deathclaws. Since i hate reading PDFs to learn shit i, of course, did the only logical option left to me. I bound them in to physical books. You know, as one does

3 Dweller's Guides, one for me and 2 for general table use. And 2 Overseer's Guides, one for me and 1 for our erstwhile DM

First time trying out sewn board binding. Big fan! Don't need to fret about your square looking nice and square if theres no square! Tho, probably not the best option for this (TTRPG books) particular use case lol

Also my first time chancing book cloth (home made, fusible web method) thru the laser printer. Saw it on @three--rings blog, this post. Worked great! Def doing that more often. Next time i'm gonna see if it will work with toner foiling

Links to the free system docs and such below the cut

Dweller's Guide

Overseer's Guide

Bestiary Guide

Item Guide

I was gonna link the subreddit as well but they appear to have privated it in the like single week i've been working on this so 🤷‍♂️

BONUS. IDK if something broke in the upload to Docs or if the folks who made this didn't think about how most printers don't actually print all the way to the edge but somewhere somehow these files got all fucked up from a printing perspective. Also, the page numbers aren't formatted right either. Also also, 9 pt font? For nearly everything?! Do you hate players? Y'all, it's a digital file. Your not saving paper by using tiny font and tiny margins

I spent a million years battling my personal nemesis, tables, to get this into a printable state. I missed a page and didn't notice till i was taking these pics. A whole chunk of this page got cut off in the bleed 😭

If y'all, the creators, by some wild fluke actually manage to see this post. I have some... notes

UPDATE: Spoken to the creators now. Apparently there was a DOCs update a few months ago that mucked some stuff up. Terribly unfortunate

[sofiadragon]

Coming soon in Stripped Down and Rebuilt...

When the rat poked his head out, likely puzzled by not hearing the boys climb onto the bed adjacent to his hiding place, Severus dropped the web of spells he’d been weaving near the ceiling. A rainbow of revealing, negation, reversing, and stinging magic swirled down to envelop the rat. Pettigrew squealed in shock the same way he had at twelve years old as he returned to human form, his sudden bulk lifting the bed. Severus thought he was ready for this, he’d been anticipating it for months. It was a bit like popping the lid off of a pressurized system. All the boiling hot rage, his distilled grief and pain, and the liquid violence he kept a tight lid on in his day to day flashed into vapor in an instant, expanding to fill every corner of his mind and body and overwhelming him in its intensity. The shockwave moved through him, blasting formless magic across the room toward the frantically scrabbling man half-caught beneath the bed. “Snape, oof, Snape please, you know how dangerous Sirius is! I was scared for my life. Please, mercy,” the rat groveled. Severus had no mercy in him for this creature. Curses rolled off his tongue that could get him six months in Azkaban at best, but the deceptively agile man freed himself from the furniture Severus’ rage had helped tip over and escaped the sloppy spells Severus cast with shaking hands. “It’s your fault she’s dead,” Severus wailed. “You sold them to the Dark Lord! For what?” “No! No, that was Sirius!” “Then why are you still alive?” The words tore out of him like shrapnel from a bomb. Severus launched himself at Pettigrew, who was stocky and slightly shorter than Severus, a change from when they were young and Severus had always been the smallest in his year. Sectumcempra took off three more of the rat’s fingers, this time on his wand hand, and then Severus raised his left hand, holding his silver potion master’s knife. Pettigrew twisted, but Severus was faster. He slashed down to embed the blade in the stocky man’s shoulder. They grappled, and the knife came free. Accuracy honed from dissecting animals for potion ingredients guided the second stab into the joint, rendering the rat’s right arm useless, but Pettigrew was left-handed and had pulled a wand from somewhere. There wasn’t much room for spell casting, and he was dimly aware of the children screaming along with Pettigrew as warm blood coated Severus’ left hand. “You should have died protecting them.” “That’s the pot calling the cauldron, isn’t it?” Pettigrew said when he got his breath back. The rat raised his wand, but Severus didn’t give him enough room to cast. Pure-bloods knew nothing of the kind of brawls Severus had been in. Fights fought with teeth, elbows, and fists instead of wands on the streets of Cokeworth gave him an edge in close quarters that had ended several who’d seen more than Severus wanted them to during the war. Even muggle-born wizards were afraid of snapping their wands in a grapple, and few had the magical power or mental focus to cast at full strength when they didn’t have free movement of their wand arm. “You were a Death Eater in the inner circle! You wanted Lily for yourself after James and Harry were dead!” “I was protecting her the only way I could!” Severus screamed, managing to fire off a close-quarters blasting curse that punched into the rat’s side and exploded the side table behind him. “Of course I begged Him for mercy, just as I begged Dumbledore to protect her!”

Time for some revenge.

[is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not]

Ryūga - THE LAST DRAGON'S SHADOW

Aboard the DCS Tenryū

Three Hours After the Ulithi’s Third Jump

The DCS Tenryū drifted silently in the void, docked to the colossal mass of the SLS Ulithi, its hull bathed in the cold, distant glow of a nameless star. Within its walls, the ship carried warriors, tacticians, and the will of the Draconis Combine, but here—within the private quarters of the Gunji-no-Kanrei—there was only the steady rhythm of Ryūga Kurita’s breath, and the faint whisper of the ship’s life support systems.

And then, he was no longer alone.

A presence, familiar yet impossibly distant, brushed against the edges of his awareness. Ryūga turned, his emerald eyes narrowing—not in surprise, but in recognition.

She stood just beyond the flickering lantern light, wrapped in the shadows as if they were part of her, the air around her charged with something unspoken. For a moment, he thought she was a ghost of his past, a trick of memory given form. And then she stepped forward, and the past crashed over him like a wave of silk and steel.

She had been his lover once, in the days before war had hardened them both—before duty had torn them apart. They had met at Dieron District Gymnasium, two souls caught in the pull of something too powerful to deny, yet too fleeting to last. He had known her not as a Nekakami, not as a specter of the Dragon’s will, but simply as a woman—a woman whose touch had once set his blood aflame.

And now she stood before him again. Devastatingly beautiful, as she had been then.

She had changed, yet she had not. Her hair, once flowing like black silk, was now cut with precise elegance, framing features so sharp they could cut ferro-fibrous. Her body, once soft with the indulgence of youth, was honed to perfection, every motion carrying the predatory grace of a panther in the dark. But her eyes—those midnight-black eyes—were the same. They held the same fire, the same knowing, teasing warmth, as if she had known, even then, that they would meet again.

And perhaps she had.

She spoke first, her voice a whisper of velvet and steel. “Ryūga-denka, it has been a long time.”

His tail flicked slightly, the only sign of the storm beneath his calm exterior. “Too long, Akane.”

A faint smirk touched her lips, her eyes showing only the faintest surprise. “You remember me.”

He exhaled, studying her as one might a blade rediscovered after years left in its sheath. “How could I not?”

For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick with things left unsaid. Then, without another word, she lifted a small, unmarked box and extended it toward him. “The device,” she said simply.

Ryūga took it, inspecting its plain, almost forgettable exterior—the kind of object that no one would glance at twice, and yet, in the right hands, held secrets that could topple empires.

Akane moved past him then, stepping toward the table where his sake set lay untouched. She picked up a cup, examined it absently. “You will need to learn our codes.”

“Teach me.”

And so she did.

For the next hour, they sat across from one another, their voices low, measured, as Akane guided him through the intricate web of symbols, phrases, and unspoken cues that the Nekakami would use to communicate with him. The codes within codes, where a single misplaced word could shift a message’s meaning entirely. The layered security phrases, ensuring that even if a message was intercepted, its intent would remain hidden. The silent signals, gestures that could be used in the presence of others without ever betraying intent. She spoke as she had always spoken—with precision, with intent, with just enough amusement to remind him that she knew how this would end.

When at last the lesson was complete, Ryūga closed the device, sealing its knowledge within his mind. “Efficient as ever, Akane.”

She tilted her head slightly, her lips curving in a small, knowing smile.

“You always did admire efficiency.”

A pause. Then—soft, but unyielding—

“Stay.”

She did not answer immediately. Instead, she rose with the same grace she always had, stepping around the table with silent, measured steps. Ryūga remained seated, watching her as she moved closer, until she stood just beyond reach.

“We should not do this.” Her voice was lower now, a whisper of something half regret, half challenge.

He met her gaze, unblinking. “And yet you came here.”

A breath. A heartbeat. Then, as though something between them had finally snapped, she closed the distance in a single, fluid motion, her hands pressing against the hard planes of his chest, her body heat a stark contrast to the cool air of the room. “For the record, I never intended to leave you behind, back then.”

His hands came up—one curling around her waist, the other sliding into her raven-dark hair—and when he spoke, it was not as Gunji-no-Kanrei Ryūga Kurita, but simply as Ryūga. “For the record, I never wanted you to.”

Her breath hitched, just slightly, before she smirked against his lips. “Then perhaps it is time we correct that mistake.”

And as their past bled into the present, as duty warred with desire, the last thought that crossed Ryūga’s mind before he surrendered to the inevitability of this moment was simple.

The shadows had never truly left him.

And neither had she.

[qingyingpocketlirary]

The Spider's Web 2

“Come on, stupid thing… Go in the hole!” Syntax growled as he tried once again to finish the simple task. He was so close, so very close to finally fixing the mech’s heating system! He just had to get this panel in place and start up the systems and they’d have warmth again.

The tangled and charred wiring had been replaced and protected from damage or future tangling thanks to some small cable ties and the addition of a thin spacer between the wires to keep them from twisting or tangling again. The ruined circuit boards and blocked fuel lines had also been replaced and better secured in place, the fuel lines have been completely removed, washed out and widened to prevent blockages happening again. And to prevent having to spend so long redoing all that work again, he had made a protective panelling to cover the exposed wires and fuel lines better, he just had to fasten this one last panel in place and he’d be done.

But it seemed the universe had other plans for him, as the last edge of the fastening was just not cooperating. 

The panel was a simple design, simply push four small bolts into their matching holes and push until they clicked to signal they were securely in place. The paneling was his own design, and once it was all set up and linked to his tech, it would allow him to isolate and find any issues beneath the panelling, should he ever need to do repairs again. 

The problem he was facing was that this last panel was proving to be very difficult, as the thing had very little give and if he pushed or pulled too hard or caught the bolts at a bad angle, the bolts could break and come loose, leaving him with more work to do and more delays. So he was trying to be careful, to tease and coax the little give he could work with into working for him so the panel would fit snugly in place.

It was not at all as easy as it sounded, when in order to reach the place the paneling should go, Syntex had to put his whole arm, from fingertips to shoulder, into the tight space between the mechs main body and one of its legs, using mostly his sense of touch to guide him, as he couldn't move his head far enough to properly see the hole the last bolt of the panel needed to go. The process was further complicated by the fact that Syntax had to try and do this all while holding on to the mech’s outer shell with his spider limbs, leaving his human legs to dangle uselessly as he worked.

The first three bolts had gone into place and clicked securely with a little effort and now he just needed to get the last one, the closest one to him, to click in and it would be done! Finally they’d have warmth! It was so easy, a task he’d done many times before already today, but Syntax was not having a good time with it at all. Every time he got close, the panel would shift or jolt suddenly and he’d be left with a moment of panic to hope nothing was broken or snapped. 

Still he kept trying, even changing arms to see if the new grip could help. But nothing was working! He had to finish this! He had to! If he could just get this panel on, they would at last have heat again! If the bolt would just, go, in-

“Gah!” A sharp jolt and Syntax felt the panel jerk in his hand, nothing broken, just a sign that the panel had again failed to catch properly. “Oh you- damn thing!” He growled, once again trying to coax the reluctant panel into place. “Just go on the hole already!”

A deliberate clunk sounded suddenly, above and slightly to the right of him. “Oi.” Oh great, just what he needed right now. A distraction.

“What is it, Huntsman?” He asked, a little snipped with his tone but he was so close, so very clo- “OW!” He felt the bolt once again shift and miss the space it was meant to go into, catching his finger for a moment resulting in a sharp sting of pain and he pulled his hand back and glared into the space at the panel with gritted teeth.

“Food.” The other stated plainly.

He waved the other off and moved to try again. “I’m not hung-OI! Let me go!” He yelled as the older male grabbed him by the back of his coat firmly.

“No.” Huntsman said, striking the middle of Syntax’s back to force the mechanical limbs to retract with what was now practiced ease, leaving the younger male no way to keep holding on to the mech’s side and then heaved him up and over his shoulder. “Hang on.” he warned. 

“Huntsman, put me down!” Syntax demanded, trying to wriggle free of the older’s hold. Only to yelp and quickly cling to the back of Huntsman’s coat tightly when the older spider swung them off the mech with his web and upwards onto the webbing that took them up out of the mech’s chamber and began to jump and swing his way across the cave walls and webbing towards the kitchen, making his stomach do a nasty flip. “Oi!”

“You don’t get to complain this time, kid. It’s past midnight, and you need to eat- a full meal this time, not one of those junk pots of instant stuff. Then you’re going to bed.” The other said and continued to carry him over his shoulder with ease. “Goliath did not spend time cooking a good stew for it to go to waste because you’re eating trashy stuff.”

“I am not hungry, And don’t knock my food choices. I’ve survived this long.” He protested, squirming just enough to keep Huntsman’s shoulder from japping his stomach as the other moved. “Damn it, I was almost done!”

“Oh sure you were.” Huntsman said with a mocking chuckle, keeping his grip tight so Syntax wouldn’t fall as he jumped from one web to another. “You were arguing with a bolt, the same bolt you’ve been struggling with for the last half an hour. You need to eat something so that your body can keep up with your brain, or is your so-called big brain too stupid for basic health?”

“If the damn bolt would have just gone in the hole like it was meant to, I would have been finished by now.” Syntax huffed, no longer squirming and instead going partly limp, folding his arms as best he could while being carried. 

“Whatever you say, genius.” Huntsman teased. Syntax wouldn’t keep fighting him on this, for all that they didn’t get along, the younger male was smart enough to know when he’d lost the argument.

“What’s in the stew?” The half demon asked quietly.

“Fresh meat and some chicken cuts, vegetables and dumplings. I set it to reheat for you so the meat should be more on the well done side rather than rare.” Huntsman listed as they entered the kitchen space.  It was easier to say fresh meat than the truth, to help the younger get over the mental blocks that were still sensitive on the matter. “I’m going out tonight so if you have a request, it better be on the list before I leave or you’ll do without until next time.”

The kitchen space wasn’t a very large cave, but it wasn’t small either, as the Queen was often the one who did the most cooking for them, the webs acted as both tables and chairs, though it still confused Syntax how the webs didn’t bow or snap under sudden shifts in weight, and yet the half demon recalled when he had been sat listening to Goliath explain their diets to him while the Queen cooked up what had smelt like beef stew, Huntsman had silently been walking upside down along a web across from then, only to suddenly drop and catch himself on his own webbing. 

It had been funny to see at the time, as Huntsman had been mocking Syntax earlier that day for his poor balance with his spider limbs and Goliath had told him that it was normal for the webs to suddenly sag like that. Being spiders, they all naturally produce webbing and over time, the webbing dried out and started to sag, losing its tautness and becoming just another layer of webbing over the floor to better trap and delay any fool stupid enough to walk on them.

Huntsman carried the younger male over the webbing that surrounded the cooking pot, knowing that the other was still adjusting to the new limbs and how to properly use them on the webbing, moving so they were closer to the pot than normal to be near the heat.

Syntax huffed again. “As if you could possibly bring home a good sirloin steak.” He said, ignoring the way his stomach gave a low rumble at the smell of the stew in the cooking pot. The heat from the magic beneath the pot was also a bonus.

“Is that a challenge?” Huntsman questioned and dropped Syntax onto the thicker webs, knowing he was confident enough to not fall from them without his spider limbs and then jumped down to fetch a bowl up for him. “Because I’ll have you know I can and have brought down foes bigger than our Queen if I must. Finding and butchering a cow for some meat is nothing compared to such a feat.”

“Sure, and I’ll assume you have a skull trophy to prove that claim somewhere in your mess of a room?” The younger cheeked, they both knew Huntsman’s room was not a mess, it was in fact the second neatest of the lot, the first being the Queen’s.

Huntsman opened his mouth to answer that yes, he did in fact have such a sulk, but as he looked at Syntax, the younger male winced, curling in on himself and pulled his new coat, warmed by the fur lining their Queen had sown into it for him tightly around himself. Shivering as he quickly fastened it closed to try and retain the heat it gave him.

Huntsman grit his teeth. Because he was only a half demon, one could easily mistake this action for one of pain, but the truth was that Syntax had gotten a fairly good balance of both his human and spider instincts already, and the worst of his changes wouldn’t start happening until he was past the initial internal and external changes, those being his stomach adjusting to his new diet, and the hyper sensitivity to temperature, light and vibration from the webs when he was sat or stood on them. 

This reaction? This was an overreaction to the chill and it was deliberate. He was acting on instinct to alert others near him to something cold coming towards them. That was why of all their new clothes, Huntsman knew the Queen had taken care to make Syntax’s the thickest, helping him combat the chill better even as he continued to try and hide it as lingering pains from his mutations.

“Ah, good evening gentlemen.” The ‘Mayor’ greeted as he stepped inside the room, his constant smile and white eyes as unblinking as they always seemed to be. “I hope I am not interrupting anything?” He questioned.

“This dumbass forgot to eat, again.” Huntsman stated sharply, and made a show of shoving the bowl of stew into Syntax’s hands with more force than was needed, a sharp look warning Syntax not to shovel the food into his mouth. “He needs more food now since his body is still struggling with the new mutations. By not eating he’s giving himself a bad case of cramps.”

A cover story, one that meant Syntax didn’t have to try to stop the shivering right away as he sat there, holding the bowl in his lap. The heat of it seeping through the fabric of his clothes and into his hands, was a relief now that the room seemed so much colder. It helped to ground him and kept him aware of the situation around him rather than the discomfort of the cold as he began to eat.

The use of language was deliberate on Huntsman’s part, the Mayor’s eye often twitched or his hands would jerk sharply when someone cursed around him, and Huntsman had quickly learnt that if he cursed enough, the man would leave without asking too many questions.

“Well, that certainly can’t be good for his health. What with him still adjusting and all.” The Mayor said, tucking his hands behind him. “Forgive my sudden intrusion, but I could not help to overhear something about a list?”

“Shopping list. Or rather what we consider a shopping list.” Huntsman said, jerking his head to the wall behind the man. A whiteboard hung there and on it was a list, composed of different handwritings for each item, some of them simple to find in the stores, others were clearly meant to feed a very different diet. “I keep track of what we need so we aren’t caught short. The list is so the others can request certain items if the Queen can allow it.”

“Ah, a fine idea, but with so few mouths to feed, is such a long list needed?” The man asked, reading the many items. “Some of these seem more suited to a human’s diet than your own, but far too much for just one mouth to eat before some of the items go bad.”

“Goliath also has a liking for human foods, and our Queen allows for our shared preference. The change allows Huntsman to hunt only for himself and her while we can manage without for longer stints.” Syntax said, pausing in his meal long enough to speak, though he did not look at the Mayor as he spoke, the man’s eyes and smile unnerved him.

“Hm. For you I understand it, but not so much the larger of your comrades.” The Mayor said. “Is he not a full demon like you, Huntsman?”

Huntsman growled about to snap at the man for the hinted insult to his clanmate, but Syntax was faster, having been between mouthfuls of his food.

“Spider Demons are known to adapt and change with the times. Thus, allowing for more flexibility on the path to destiny.” He said before taking another mouthful of food.

The Mayor’s head turned sharply, almost unnaturally so, to look at the young male, his face shadowed and his eyes filled with sudden fury. Huntsman shifted ever so slightly, just enough to keep Syntax behind him as he continued to eat, unaware of the sudden danger he’d just brought upon himself. 

Something about what he had said had irked the man and whatever it was, Huntsman wasn’t about to let this outsider do harm upon his younger clansman for whatever jab the man perceived. Those fury filled eyes looked into his own four green ones and for a long moment, the room was tense.

Then, for whatever reason, the man seemed to suddenly find amusement in the matter and laughed. “Quite so, quite so.” He said and then walked away as quietly as he had arrived.

Syntax looked at Huntsman after a moment, a question in his eyes, Huntsman shook his head, and put a finger to his lips. The man was still close by, and could likely still be listening.

To keep their conversation between them, Huntsman used the tip of his claw to pull a hair thin web from his palm and attach it to the back of Syntax’s hand between his thumb and forefinger with a light jab, then after pulling more web from his palm he cut it free and attached that end to his own hand in the same place and began to fuss with the fur of his collar, close to his ear.

“I don’t trust him.” Syntax admitted after taking the last mouthful of his stew, keeping his voice quiet as he spoke close to the webbing. “He’s… I don’t even know a word to describe him.”

“I know what you mean.” Huntsman said just as quietly. “I’ve seen his kind before, back in the old days. They were never good news. Do yourself a favour and stay away from him. If he corners you, call out.”

“You think he’d try something?” Syntax asked, still holding the bowl in his lap as he adjusted his own collar. “Why would he target me?”

“What you said just then? It bothered him, and while I doubt he’d out right attack you while we’re all here, he’s a sneaky bastard. If he comes to you while you're alone and starts trouble, aim for his neck,” Huntsman said again and Syntax watched the older male tilt his own head back ever so slightly and scratch at his own neck, just between his jaw and neck. “Hard as you can, and get away from him.”

“You're telling me to run away?” Syntax asked.

“If that’s what it takes to survive, yes. Go to Goliath if you can’t get to me.” Huntsman said with a nod.

“But the Queen-”

“The Queen will understand.” Huntsman said firmly, and dropped his end of the webbing.

She had to know that something was wrong. Why else would she be so set on making sure they, her underlings and lessers were warm now that the air was chilled? Why else would she suddenly seem so eager to let them outside, even for the most minor things? Why would she be sending them further and further away to find things that shouldn’t be needed when he knew they had a surplus of ingredients and foods stored in preparation?

Something was going on, and while their Queen did not tell them, Huntsman had been with her long enough and was old enough to know that the Queen was worried, not for herself, but for them. He refused to believe that nothing was happening. And he refused to let the Queen he’d watched grow from heir to ruler face this storm alone, even if she would not tell him what was wrong, he would stand by her side and make sure, no matter how hard it was, that she survived.

He owed that to the Late Queen Mother and her daughters.

He shook his head and dusted down the front of his coat. “You said you were almost done. How long until we have heat once it's working?” He asked at normal volume.

There was the slightest, almost unnoticed movement in the shadows by the doorway, so easily mistaken for a cobweb moved by a slight breeze.

“I just need to get the panel to fit and start the mech’s system, it will not move very far without some major repairs, or be capable of many of the operations it could do before, but if we move it lower in to the caves and make tunnels upwards into the rooms that need heating, I’ll be able to program the systems to run for a few hours every day and night so it’ll produce heat. Given the size of the mech itself it should start giving out heat within a day or maybe a day and half depending on the size of the chamber we put it in and how well we can get the air to circulate.” Syntax explained, extending his spider limbs again and moving to wash the now cooled bowl. “But that’s only if the systems stay on for that long. We have some leftover power from New Years, but that might only last us a month at the most.”

“Sounds like you’re all but done with the work to give us some heat. Why not just leave the paneling off and start the system tonight so we’re all warm in the morning?” Huntsman questioned, pulling Syntax out of the beginnings of a ramble.

“Because if I leave the panelling off and something goes wrong, like a fuel line bursting or a fuse blowing out and causing a small fire, the chain reaction from the fuel igniting plus the chemicals in my lab will cause an explosion so great that it will take out the lair, us, everyone and everything around is within at least a ten mile radius.”

“What?” Huntsman sputtered in shock.

Syntax tapped at his wrist device and projected an image of the panelling he was using, explaining that the panelling was his own design and had premade chambers on the inside that were filled with nanosensors that when activated would be used as a failsafe to make sure that if something did go wrong, such as a fuse blowing or a part of the fuel line busting, the panel where the damage was would cut itself off from the rest of the system and contain the damage to just a small area, meaning no one would be hurt by an untimely explosion and Syntax could focus on just repairing that one small section of the whole system and not have to waste time searching every single inch of mech to find the problem again.

“I’m sure our Queen would prefer that outcome rather than all of us becoming ash and cinders.” Syntax further explained, and cut the image off. “So, yes, while I am done with the repair work, if I don’t fit the panelling before starting the mech’s systems, everything and everyone within those ten miles could at any point go ka-boom. Or maybe more, given we don’t know much about that relic the girl has in the cave she’s using, it could possibly makes the explosion much bigger-”

“Alright, alright! I get it. We need it to look nice to work properly.” Huntsman snarled. “Why is everything so complicated nowadays?”

“Because humans got smarter.” Syntax chuckled and began to make his way out of the room and back towards the mech’s chamber, using his spider limbs to carry him over the webbing rather than walking on his own two feet, taking time to practice using them for more than just climbing and holding onto things now he had the confidence that they wouldn’t fail to hold his weight. “So before I go to bed, I would like to finish putting the panelling on, and then turn the systems on. At least then we’ll start getting heat flowing again. We can move it and dig the tunnels out tomorrow.”

Huntsman huffed, following the younger male with ease, even without his own spider limbs in use, he was able to walk along the thinnest of the webs with the confidence and grace of a tightrope walker who had no fear of falling even without a net or harness to catch him should he slip.

No, Syntax was not jealous.

His Lady fumed silently, her host body shaking as she fought to keep what limited power she allowed herself to keep in check, small shards of ice forming a deadly ring at her feet, trying to creep further from her and along the floor, eager to burst forth and freeze the whole lair. 

But she couldn’t. 

Not yet. 

Not when she still needed to gather power to complete her Destiny. No matter how much it infuriated her, she couldn’t strike yet, she did not have the power she needed to strike yet. She had to wait.

Her puppet knelt in his place by the door, his head low and body mostly frozen over as the bulk of her power raged within him. An icy fury, such that would destroy her current host, if she had let it remain within herself. He was only spared destruction because of his loyalty to her and the now endless lifetime he had served at her side, an eternal emissary to her will and desires. In a way, he was also a host to her, though only in the sense that his body, hollow and void of needless conflicting emotion and desires, housed the majority of her powers right now, as the child she had possessed was simply too frail to contain it all without shattering.

He had overheard how close the half demon was to completing his work and the desire to strike out in revenge by sabotaging the mech in someway, likely resulting in the child being reprimanded by the Spider Queen herself, had been almost too inviting, but upon hearing what could be the possible consequence of such a petty action had made him think twice.

So, with no other choice, he had reported back to His Lady what he had heard and thus, here they were now. Shut in the chamber the Spider Queen had given them to work from while they stayed with her. His Lady was trying to contain her anger while he silently and dutifully endured the worst of it so as to spare her frail host’s body the damage.

For all the power she had and all the power she could lend him, His Lady had chosen to collude with the Spider Queen for a reason; the now former human scientist under her employment. Had things gone His Lady’s way, the man would have been the perfect assistant to build the Bone Mech for her while the Mayor had hunted down the relics they needed for the power to fuel the mech, all with the promise of money for his services. But because of the Spider Queen’s impatience, the once human was now a part of the Spider clan and his loyalty lay solely with his Queen. 

His Lady had been forced to play the part of a mere lesser demon seer, who sought to help the Spider Queen reach her goal of regaining her lost glory as a ruler, all while slowly building up her own power and cultivating herself within her host’s body until she could shed the child and take her own true form. They were playing a long game, a trade of sorts, fixing the Spider Queen’s mech was part of that trade, Only with its completion and full functionality could they move on to the next part of the plan, and while it would be somewhat satisfying to tamper and slow the process, the truth of the matter was that the now half spider demon was the only one amongst them who truly knew how the technology of this modern era truly worked, and neither His Lady or the Spider Queen could afford to try and find someone else.

Faintly, he wondered if the young half demon even realised how large a part he was truly playing in this game between His Lady and the Queen- Wait.

Maybe. Just maybe.

“My Lady?” He dared to ask her permission to speak up.

“Choose your words very carefully, lest I unleash my frustrations upon you.” She permitted with clear intent to follow through with her threat if he did not offer something of value, as cut a jagged path from her feet towards him.

“It occurs to me, there may be a way to educate the fool.” He began to express, choosing his words with care and consideration as he spoke his thoughts and his observations. 

Syntax was a half demon, one who had been turned rather than born and that came with a unique collection of pros and cons. Being a half demon meant the man’s life would be increased due to a slowing of his aging process, though he would only live to at most seven hundred to seven hundred and twenty years, with the support of his new clanmates and Queen. And it was clear that he had also inherited some of the Spider Demon’s natural strengths and abilities such as his increased mobility, but it was clear he still retained much of his human mind set. He was reluctant to eat human flesh and meat, as was needed for him to survive now and despite the confidence he used them with, he struggled to adjust to his new limbs and instinctive behaviour. He also shuddered whenever the Queen spoke to him, even when offering praise, he was unable to look at himself in any reflective surfaces and struggled to meet the eyes of the other spiders in general.

These things hinted at hidden insecurities beneath the cocky smirk and bold claims. Doubts of his ability to truly accept his new life as a half demon. Uncertainty in his own standing and if he will be permitted to keep living once his use to the Queen’s goal were met. Instability in himself and his new abilities.

“His loyalty is hers and that can not be changed, but I believe within his mind he is still at war with himself over what is his new reality. Especially now that he knows there is a way to reverse the change forced upon him by the Queen. And I wonder, if he could be convinced to turn his attention more to aiding in your destiny?” He questioned as his Lady considered the idea.

It would not be the first time a demon had been swayed, and it would not be at all strange to consider. Half demons were, by their own nature, self-serving and known to be very independent, even if their demonic half was pack orientated. It could be that, given time to properly adjust and settle into his new body and become accustomed to his new limbs, Syntax could very well become content and live out his life as a half demon.

But the chance to reach her destiny sooner, even if it was only by the slightest amount, could not be ignored.

“It would be a great risk to try without proper assurance of success.” She stated, her temper fading somewhat and permitting the ice to melt away without a trace. “You will continue to watch him, my puppet, and if you are able to gather enough proof that he can be tempted to aid in my destiny, I shall permit you to make the necessary provisions and proceed accordingly.” 

“Yes, My Lady.”

“But,” She warned, and he felt the ice within him become solid just for a second more, threatening to shatter his bones should he dare to breathe too harshly. “Do not draw attention to yourself in this matter, lest we incur the Queen’s suspicions more than we already have.”

“Of course, My Lady.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have always had the habit of talking to and cursing inanimate objects and items when they don't work the way they should, and so I made Syntax talk to his work to mirror that.

Also I headcanon that Huntsman is trying, in his own way, to help Syntax settle into his new life, even if he isn't always the best at helping, since he's never known anything but being a demon, and so doesn't always understand the problems Syntax is facing. But he's trying, and Syntax sees it.

And we get a look at LBD and the Mayor in this part. I'm not 100% sure of how to write the Mayor when he's interacting with LBD just yet, but I hope people like it.

Until next time, please enjoy!!!!! < Part 1 Part 3 >

[fifilefttheloom]

I looked around and saw pinned intro posts, so I figured I should do that.

Hi, I usually go by "dreamingfifi" but it turns out that there's at least one other dreamingfifi out there (I met them, they're the sort of person I would have been friends with in college) so my user name is a reference to my favorite poem. It's about a woman trapped in a tower on an island in a river, cursed to die if she leaves but is immortal as long as she stays. Her only connection to the outside world is the window, and she imagines stories about the people she sees using a road that goes by her prison while weaving what she sees on a magic loom. She's always isolated, observing, and doesn't mind it... that much. Then she sees Sir Lancelot singing as he rides down the road. She can hear another's voice in who knows how long?

Then she breaks.

"She left the web, she left the loom, she made three paces through the room," is the moment she acts, makes the decision that living forever in isolation, separate from the world is worse than death. So she leaves, and dies on the boat she uses to leave.

Then Sir Lancelot comes across her corpse, and while everyone is freaking out about the random dead chick, he says "lol at least she's hot" the end.

No knowledge or care about her struggles to free herself, the torment she suffered.

I just vibe with it, especially these days.

Ummmm

So, I'm a linguist; I run RealElvish.net; I wrote "A Fan's Guide to Neo-Sindarin" and some workbooks for Tengwar and Cirth. I have done tens of thousands of translations in Sindarin and Quenya, so ask if you want help.

I also write fanfic sometimes, since I got started translating for LotR fanfic back in 2002. I wonder from fandom to fandom. Fandoms I have been in are Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Detective Conan, My Hero Academia, Ascendance of a Bookworm, Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, and lately Scum Villain's Self-Saving System. Basically if it has a rabbit hole of material to explore, I get sucked in. Especially if there's a linguistic edge in there somewhere.

I'm not great at writing fiction, but I've been told I have a knack for describing linguistic concepts in an easy to understand way. Which is how I have sold a bunch of copies of my Neo-Sindarin reference grammar. I still like to write fanfic, since analytical thinking needs creativity to keep nimble.

Oh, and I have a wife and a cat! Some stereotypes are true apparently. Also I have ADHD, autism, and OCD. Hyper-focus, special interests, and perfectionism, the perfect combo to make a nerd. They make life difficult sometimes, but because of these mental quirks I have made some stuff I am really proud of.

Namárië!

PS. I actually liked reading the songs in LotR.

[v-ividus]

Free Will, Algorithmic Determinism and the Lack of Common Sense

The Illusion of Choice in a Predetermined Reality

In a world increasingly dominated by the pervasive reach of algorithmic governance, the age-old philosophical inquiry into the nature of free will clashes violently with the modern fabric of determinism. The very notion of choice becomes clouded by an array of digital influences, meticulously shaped roads leading to preordained destinations. The illusion of free will, akin to the tantalizing shimmer of a desert mirage, beckons us forth, only to reveal its stark and cruel reality: a world ensnared by invisible strings pulled by unseen forces. The question that arises, one laced with existential dread, is whether our choices are genuine or mere puppetry in the grand scheme of algorithmic determinism.

We inhabit an age where the mythos of autonomy is fortified by the tantalizing chaos of social media and the internet—a double-edged sword that offers freedom yet entraps within the confines of engineered desires. Herein lies our moral responsibility: to dissect the true nature of choice in this digital cacophony, to challenge the very algorithms that mold our perceptions, and to expose the undeniable truth that our actions may be less a reflection of individual agency than a concerted performance of obedience to the dictates of algorithmic puppeteers. This treatise stands as an unwavering critique of our engagement with these constructs, imploring the reader to confront the disconcerting reality that our perceptions may already be preemptively shaped.

The Intriguing Paradox of Free Will and Determinism

In the grand theater of philosophy, the age-old debate between free will and determinism echoes with the voices of titans—Kant, Hume, Nietzsche—each wrestling with the intricate web of human agency. Yet, in our modern age, this discourse takes a compelling twist, as we find ourselves surrounded by omnipresent algorithmic systems that operate with an unsettling precision. It’s here, within this dichotomy, that the very essence of our societal fabric begins to unravel, revealing just how intricately woven our perceived freedom is with the chains of determinism.

Consider the notion of choice, that revered pillar of democratic freedom. Now, set this against the meticulous choreography of algorithmic influence, which subtly guides our every decision, often without our conscious awareness. We indulge in the illusion of empowerment—swiping through meticulously curated feeds, engaging eagerly with interactive platforms—yet, beneath this veneer of autonomy lies a more profound truth. What we deem as choice is, in reality, a carefully orchestrated dance of manipulation and design, narrowing the pathways of our decisions to fit preordained outcomes. With each engagement, our sense of free will wears thinner, revealing the lurking hands of design at play.

As we probe deeper into this multifaceted relationship, we discern the relentless hunger of the digital economy, feeding off our innate desire for agency. The technological infrastructures of our time foster a ceaseless recycling of preferences, leading us into ever-narrowing corridors of decision-making. Free will, thus, emerges not as a beacon of liberty, but as an instrument tarnished by the very mechanics that power it—an apparatus finely tuned by the expectations of a society masquerading as free.

So, we arrive at a disquieting paradox: Can we truly claim our decisions are authentic? Or are we mere actors scripted in a grand play, puppets dancing to the rhythm of unseen algorithms? As you ponder this question, consider the layers concealed beneath the surface of your choices. What truths await in the shadows of this intricate dance between freedom and fate?

Algorithmic Constructs and the Erosion of Common Sense

As the complex web of algorithmic architecture intricately weaves itself into the very fabric of our collective consciousness, we observe the gradual erosion of common sense unfold with alarming inevitability, akin to a ceaseless tide washing away the stable foundation of human experience. In an age inundated with superficial interactions and relentless content consumption, we become entranced by algorithms that prioritize mere engagement over the authenticity and depth of discourse. Within this digital maelstrom, common sense—the touchstone of rational thought—diminishes, flickering precariously beneath the relentless assault of falsely curated narratives.

In this context, algorithms transition from passive engines of information retrieval to active architects that profoundly shape our perception of reality. The framework through which we interpret the world narrows and distorts, influenced by selective exposure and algorithmically mediated content curation. As a result, our engagement with reality becomes filtered through these sophisticated mechanisms, leading to a cognitive landscape laden with biases and misconceptions. This diminishing capacity for critical thought is intertwined with a growing susceptibility to the influences of narcissism, as users increasingly seek validation through algorithmically driven applause, fostering an environment where self-absorption outpaces genuine connection.

The erosion of common sense precipitates a fracturing of our knowledge base, ushering in a dystopian reality where subjective interpretations overshadow empirical evidence. In this precarious environment, the prevalence of fraud becomes increasingly pronounced. Users—often seeking affirmation in echo chambers—find themselves prey to deceptive narratives and misleading claims, their discernment compromised by the overwhelming volume of tailored information that fuels their biases. The result is a cycle where misinformation thrives, and the lines separating fact from fiction blur, leaving individuals vulnerable to manipulation.

The implications of this decline extend well beyond the realm of individual cognition; they permeate societal constructs and ethical paradigms. As digital echo chambers proliferate, public discourse is increasingly characterized by a lack of authenticity, diminishing the appetite for genuine dialogue. This creates a fertile ground for psychopathic predation, as those adept at exploiting the vulnerabilities of others—be they influencers, fraudsters, or charlatans—can seamlessly engage with an audience desperate for connection and affirmation. The average user, adrift in this digital sea, becomes an easy target for those wielding nefarious agendas cloaked in persuasive rhetoric and curated personas.

As the fabric of society unwinds under the weight of algorithmic dominance, the collective experience of truth becomes fractured. The erosion of common sense leaves the average person struggling to differentiate between wisdom and folly, entrenching their dependence on digital cues rather than fostering independent thought. This disarray renders individuals increasingly susceptible to external influence, as their capacity for discernment falters when faced with the orchestrated authenticity offered by narcissistic schemers and duplicitous actors.

The societal implications are profound; our shared discourse is thus diminished, paving the way for a populist landscape rife with manipulation and exploitation. What emerges is a culture defined by a transactional view of relationships, where empathy is overshadowed by self-interest and algorithmically driven competition for attention. In a reality where critical thinking is supplanted by algorithmic conditioning, the risk of collective inertia grows, inhibiting the potential for meaningful engagement and informed choice.

As the chaos of instant communication drowns out our innate ability to simply think, we are compelled to confront a chilling reality: our modern existence is now inextricably linked to the very constructs that undermine our capacity for rational discourse and ethical engagement. In a world where the instinct to connect becomes ensnared by the charm of superficiality, the essential tenets of common sense fade into obscurity. Ultimately, it is this convergence of algorithmic influence and human vulnerability that poses the greatest threat to our collective well-being, necessitating a reevaluation of our relationship with these digital constructs that shape our understanding of truth, reality, and each other.

The Psychological Underpinnings of Our Digital Persona

In the maze of our digital existence, the creation of online personas has emerged as a crucial subject that beckons our attention. These crafted identities, extensions of who we are, amplify the psychological dance of interaction in ways that might surprise you. As we subconsciously mold ourselves to fit the templates laid out by social algorithms, a fascinating yet troubling dichotomy unfolds: our authentic selves retreat behind a façade expertly designed to gain approval in a complex web of validation.

This manufactured identity, while it may seem like a badge of empowerment, often births an unsettling dissonance—a tug-of-war that questions the very essence of our being. Is the persona we project truly us, or is it simply a shadow that conforms to the expectations of the digital realm? As the pressure to present curated versions of ourselves intensifies, it becomes essential to grasp the psychological undercurrents guiding our every online move.

In pursuit of digital affirmation, we fall into a compelling trap, sacrificing spontaneity for carefully architected representations that cater to algorithmic appetites. Here lies the irony: our actions are often dictated not by genuine expression but rather by an instinctive response rooted in fear—fear of judgment, fear of rejection. In this precarious dance, we flit between the thrill of online visibility and the gnawing gnosis of cognitive dissonance that follows; the farther we drift from authenticity, the greater the void within grows.

What may start as a fleeting sense of accomplishment spirals into a haunting malaise. We surrender our self-worth to data points and metrics, granting our power to faceless systems that govern our experiences. The resulting disillusionment is a stark wake-up call, reminding us that the quest for authenticity transforms into an uphill battle against relentless forces designed to uphold conformity—a cycle of validation that keeps us tethered to external measures of worth.

To reclaim our psychological sovereignty, we must embark on a journey to shatter the confines of these digital molds. As you reflect on your own online existence, ponder this: Are you merely a player in this grand game, or are you willing to step beyond the digital curtain and confront the compelling truths of your authentic self? Only then can you unravel the complexities of identity and regain control over your own narrative in this fascinating, ever-evolving digital landscape.

Collective Responsibility in the Age of Algorithms

As we navigate the intricate maze of a digital age dominated by algorithms, one must pause to wonder: what is reality today in a world so far removed from common sense? The question of collective responsibility looms large, calling into doubt the very essence of individual agency. Are we not, at times, mere spectators in a performance dictated by the whims of algorithmic design?

Consider this: every choice we make reverberates beyond our immediate spheres, shaping a collective narrative that is both profound and precarious. The interconnectedness of our digital existence compels us to engage in deep reflection on our ethical obligations. Are we truly aware of how our virtual footsteps impact the broader tapestry of society?

The haunting specter of algorithmic influence demands introspection. Each moment of cognitive dissonance—when our beliefs clash with the reality presented to us—challenges us to confront a crucial truth: our moral responsibilities extend beyond ourselves. But how often do we examine the implications of our online engagements? Are we unwittingly endorsing a status quo that prioritizes convenience over compassion, efficiency over humanity?

In the face of this pervasive manipulation, our quest for ethical engagement becomes imperative. Are we ready to lend our voices to challenge the very systems that seek to define us? What does it mean to embrace our collective responsibility in a landscape where accountability is elusive and transparency is often an illusion?

As custodians of this digital domain, we hold not just the power but the responsibility to demand change. The ramifications of our interactions stretch far beyond individual interests; they shape the cultural norms and societal values we collectively inhabit. Will we choose to empower ourselves, to resist exploitation, and to foster an ethical framework that uplifts rather than oppresses?

In this complex interplay of individual and collective, we must confront a fundamental question: how do we reclaim agency in a world that blurs the lines of reality and perception? The answer, it seems, lies in our willingness to question, to reflect, and to act. Are we prepared to transcend mere existence, to ignite a dialogue that reshapes our understanding of responsibility in this algorithmically governed reality? The invitation is clear, but the choice rests within each of us.

Challenging the Influence of Algorithmic Control

In an era dominated by algorithmic determinism, a provocative inquiry emerges: Are we the architects of our own reality, or merely products of a predetermined digital narrative? The essence of true resistance encompasses more than the act of rejecting the imposed pathways; it signifies a profound commitment to reclaim our fragmented identities from the intricate web of algorithmic enslavement. This psychological struggle unfolds as we navigate the murky waters of conformity, steeped in cognitive dissonance, while seduced by the pervasive allure of sensationalism that pervades every second of our online experience.

To resist the pressure exerted by these digital overseers, an unwavering introspection is required. What values and narratives are shaping your perceptions without your consent? In cultivating a resilient mindset, we must consciously detach ourselves from the tantalizing glow of viral validation—those ephemeral markers of worth dictated by the very algorithms designed to control our engagement. In this relentless pursuit of truth, we inevitably confront the uncomfortable realities that these digital constructs impose upon our innate sensibilities.

Furthermore, the act of resistance compels us to engage in dialogues that disrupt the status quo, compelling us to ask: How often do we fully interrogate the digital frameworks that influence our thoughts and behaviors? As we traverse the turbulent seas of algorithmic sway, our refusal to succumb to preordained narratives must resonate as a clear call for greater integrity. This moral imperative demands a more nuanced discourse, transparency, and rigorous questioning of the structures that govern our interactions today.

Reclaiming the Illusion of Choice in an Algorithmically Driven Society

Have you taken the time to critically assess the extent to which your own decision-making has become influenced by algorithmic controls specifically programmed to prioritize engagement metrics over your individual agency?Within the framework of algorithmic determinism, the semblance of choice is often a cognitive mirage, where unseen algorithms exploit your psychological vulnerabilities—such as cognitive biases and deep emotional triggers—to guide and manipulate your behaviors. Are you cognizant of the moments in which your autonomy is compromised, as you become a mere data set in a larger socio-technical system?

To carve out a life dense with meaning and true aesthetic richness, we must approach our digital interactions with a more discerning eye. What if you sought out sources that resonate deeply—challenging your thinking, provoking genuine discourse, and igniting authenticity in the haze of engineered narratives? Each conscious decision elevates you from passive consumer to active architect of your own reality.

As we grapple with the disillusionment of algorithmic puppetry, we stand on the precipice of an intellectual renaissance. What does it genuinely mean to reclaim our humanity amid chaotic digital constructs? This inquiry compels us to engage in rigorous dialogues that probe our ethical boundaries and scrutinize the narratives that mold our perceptions. Can you visualize the ripple effect of each choice reclaimed, each act of defiance?

Conclusion

As we conclude this compelling investigation into the intricacies of free will, algorithmic determinism, and the illusion of choice, we must engage in a deeper contemplation: the reclamation of our agency does not reside solely within the confines of individual cognition but flourishes in the shared dynamics of societal structures. How often do we pause to confront our complicity within the very systems that manipulate our identities and influence our belief systems? The mechanism of social algorithms—a complex interplay of data, behavior modeling, and psychological nudges—can render us unwitting participants in the twisting predestinations of a life and narrative that is not our truth.

In navigating the paradoxical terrain of our algorithmically shaped reality, we must acknowledge that liberation is predicated on awareness and resistance. Are you cognizant of the cognitive biases and social conditioning that cloud your decision-making processes? The labyrinth of curated feeds can ensnare our thoughts, leading us to believe that our choices are authentic when they may simply be rehearsed lines in an ongoing performance. It is crucial to interrogate this dissonance that permeates our daily existence.

By anchoring our choices to our core values and critically engaging with the structures of power that shape our experiences, we invite profound transformation. Each decision can serve as an act of defiance—a reclamation of the subjective human experience in a world rife with algorithmic influence. Are you prepared to harness this power and consciously navigate the pathways that lead away from the echo chambers that threaten to reduce your identity to mere data points?

Ultimately, we possess the remarkable ability to rise above the confines of passive consumption in this digital arena. By stepping boldly into the role of empowered creators of our reality, we can weave together more vibrant narratives that defy the limitations placed before us. Picture a world where every choice you make stands as a courageous act of defiance—a powerful proclamation of your ability to challenge and reshape your experiences, despite the algorithmic forces at work around you. The moment is now—are you ready to reclaim your story and redefine what your existence can be?

[createncodewebtechnologies]

B2B ecommerce website development in Indore

B2B eCommerce website development in Indore presents a lucrative opportunity for businesses looking to establish a strong online presence. With its rich talent pool, cost-effective solutions, and innovative approach, Indore has become a preferred destination for digital transformation projects. Online transactions between companies, as opposed to between companies and customers, are referred to as business-to-business (B2B) eCommerce. Strong B2B eCommerce solutions are essential given the growing dependence on digital platforms for supplier relationships, inventory control, and procurement.

The Significance of B2B eCommerce

Streamlined Operations: Efficiency is increased by automating procedures including order placing, tracking, and payment. Global Reach: Companies are able to grow their clientele beyond national borders. Cost Efficiency: By reducing manual intervention, digital systems lower operating expenses. Improved Customer Experience: Self-service portals, bulk ordering, and customized pricing are examples of features that increase consumer pleasure.

Why Indore Is a Center for the Development of B2B eCommerce

Indore has established itself as one of the fastest-growing IT cities in India. Businesses might think about Indore for the creation of B2B eCommerce websites for the following main reasons: Skilled Talent Pool: Indore is home to a sizable population of web developers, designers, and IT specialists that are knowledgeable about cutting-edge technologies. Cost-Effective Solutions: Development services in Indore are exceptional value for money and are less expensive than in major cities. Successful Startup Ecosystem: The dynamic entrepreneurial climate in Indore encourages originality and inventiveness in web development. Robust Infrastructure: The city's cutting-edge IT infrastructure facilitates timely delivery and smooth project execution. Client Proximity: Because of its advantageous location, companies in Central India can work with developers situated in Indore with ease.

How to Create a Business-to-Business eCommerce Website in Indore ?

Building a strong B2B eCommerce platform requires careful preparation and implementation. Here’s a step-by-step guide:

1. Analysis of Requirements

Determine the target market and business goals.

Specify the essential features and integration requirements.

2. Selecting the Appropriate Platform Depending on your needs, choose bespoke development or platforms like Magento or Shopify Plus. 3. Design of UI/UX

Create prototypes and wireframes for approval.

Concentrate on producing a design that is neat, expert, and user-focused.

4. Growth and Assimilation

To create the website, write clear, optimal code.

Increase functionality by integrating third-party tools and APIs.

5. Quality Assurance and Testing

To get rid of bugs, do thorough testing.

Make sure it works on all devices and browsers.

6. Implementation and Upkeep

Use secure servers to launch the website.

Assure seamless operations by providing regular updates and support.

[eweballwebhosting]

What Is Linux Web Hosting? A Beginner's Guide

In the ever-evolving digital landscape, the choice of web hosting can significantly impact your online presence. One of the most popular options available is Linux web hosting. But what exactly does it entail, and why is it so widely preferred? This beginner’s guide aims to demystify Linux web hosting, its features, benefits, and how it stands against other hosting types.

Introduction to Web Hosting

Web hosting is a fundamental service that enables individuals and organisations to make their websites accessible on the internet. When you create a website, it consists of numerous files, such as HTML, images, and databases, which need to be stored on a server. A web host provides the server space and connectivity required for these files to be accessed by users online.

There are several types of web hosting, each designed to cater to different needs and budgets. Shared hosting is a cost-effective option where multiple websites share the same server resources. Virtual Private Server (VPS) hosting offers a middle ground, providing dedicated portions of a server for greater performance and control. Dedicated hosting provides an entire server exclusively for one website, ensuring maximum performance but at a higher cost. Cloud hosting uses multiple servers to balance the load and maximise uptime, offering a scalable solution for growing websites.

Web hosting services also include various features to enhance the performance and security of your website. These can range from basic offerings like email accounts and website builders to more advanced features like SSL certificates, automated backups, and DDoS protection. The choice of web hosting can significantly influence your website’s speed, security, and reliability, making it crucial to choose a solution that aligns with your specific requirements.

Understanding the different types of web hosting and the features they offer can help you make an informed decision that suits your needs. Whether you are running a personal blog, a small business website, or a large e-commerce platform, selecting the right web hosting service is a critical step in establishing a successful online presence.

What Is Linux Web Hosting?

Linux web hosting is a type of web hosting service that utilises the Linux operating system to manage and serve websites. Renowned for its open-source nature, Linux provides a stable and secure platform that supports a wide array of programming languages and databases, making it a favoured choice amongst developers and businesses. This hosting environment typically includes support for popular technologies such as Apache web servers, MySQL databases, and PHP scripting, which are integral to modern website development.

One of the distinguishing features of Linux web hosting is its cost-effectiveness. As an open-source system, Linux eliminates the need for costly licensing fees associated with proprietary software, thereby reducing overall hosting expenses. This makes it an attractive option for individuals and organisations operating on a budget.

Moreover, Linux is celebrated for its robust performance and high stability. Websites hosted on Linux servers experience less downtime and faster loading times, which are critical factors for maintaining user engagement and search engine rankings. The operating system’s extensive community of developers continuously works on updates and improvements, ensuring that Linux remains a cutting-edge choice for web hosting.

Linux web hosting also offers considerable flexibility and customisation options. Users have the freedom to configure their hosting environment to meet specific needs, whether they are running simple static websites or complex dynamic applications. This versatility extends to compatibility with various content management systems (CMS) like WordPress, Joomla, and Drupal, which often perform optimally on Linux servers.

In summary, Linux web hosting provides a reliable, secure, and cost-effective solution that caters to a diverse range of web hosting requirements. Its compatibility with essential web technologies and its inherent flexibility make it a preferred choice for many web developers and site owners.

Key Benefits of Linux Web Hosting

Linux web hosting offers several compelling advantages that contribute to its widespread adoption. One of its primary benefits is cost-effectiveness. The open-source nature of Linux eliminates the need for expensive licensing fees, allowing users to allocate their resources more efficiently. This makes it an ideal choice for individuals and organisations with budget constraints. Additionally, Linux is celebrated for its high stability and robust performance. Websites hosted on Linux servers often experience minimal downtime and faster loading speeds, which are essential for maintaining user engagement and achieving favourable search engine rankings.

Another significant benefit is the extensive community support that comes with Linux. The active community of developers and enthusiasts continuously works on updates, patches, and security enhancements, ensuring that Linux remains a secure and reliable platform for web hosting. This ongoing development also means that any issues or vulnerabilities are promptly addressed, offering peace of mind for website owners.

Flexibility is another key advantage of Linux web hosting. The operating system supports a wide range of programming languages, including PHP, Python, and Ruby, making it suitable for various types of web applications. Additionally, Linux servers are highly customisable, allowing users to configure their environment to meet specific needs, whether they are running simple static sites or complex dynamic applications.

Moreover, Linux web hosting is highly compatible with popular content management systems (CMS) like WordPress, Joomla, and Drupal. This compatibility ensures that users can easily deploy and manage their websites using these platforms, benefiting from their extensive plugin and theme ecosystems.

Lastly, Linux's superior security features are worth noting. The operating system is inherently secure and offers various built-in security measures. When combined with best practices such as regular updates and strong passwords, Linux web hosting provides a highly secure environment for any website.

Understanding Linux Distributions in Web Hosting

Linux comes in a variety of distributions, each tailored to meet specific needs and preferences. Among the most popular for web hosting are Ubuntu, CentOS, and Debian. Ubuntu is celebrated for its ease of use and extensive community support, making it a great choice for those new to Linux. CentOS, a favourite in enterprise environments, offers impressive stability and long-term support, which ensures a dependable hosting experience. Debian stands out with its robust package management system and commitment to open-source principles, providing a reliable and secure foundation.

Each distribution brings its own strengths to the table. For example, Ubuntu’s frequent updates ensure access to the latest features and security patches, while CentOS’s extended support cycles make it a solid choice for those requiring a stable, long-term hosting environment. Debian’s extensive repository of packages and minimalistic approach offers flexibility and customisation, catering to the needs of experienced users.

Selecting the right Linux distribution largely depends on your specific requirements and technical expertise. If you prioritise user-friendliness and a wealth of resources for troubleshooting, Ubuntu might be the ideal pick. On the other hand, if you need a rock-solid, stable platform for an enterprise-level application, CentOS could be more appropriate. For those seeking maximum control and a commitment to open-source principles, Debian is a compelling option.

Ultimately, understanding the nuances of these distributions will enable you to choose a Linux environment that aligns with your web hosting needs, ensuring optimal performance and reliability.

Linux Hosting vs Windows Hosting: A Comparative Analysis

When evaluating Linux hosting against Windows hosting, several critical factors come into play. Cost is a significant differentiator; Linux hosting is generally more affordable due to its open-source nature, which eliminates the need for expensive licensing fees. In contrast, Windows hosting often incurs additional costs related to proprietary software licenses.

Compatibility is another important aspect to consider. Linux hosting is renowned for its compatibility with a broad array of open-source software and applications, including popular content management systems like WordPress, Joomla, and Magento. These platforms typically perform better on Linux servers due to optimised server configurations. On the other hand, Windows hosting is the go-to option for websites that rely on Microsoft-specific technologies such as ASP.NET, MSSQL, and other .NET frameworks.

Performance and stability are also crucial elements in this comparison. Linux hosting often provides superior uptime and faster loading speeds due to the lightweight nature of the Linux operating system. The robust performance of Linux servers is further enhanced by the active community that continuously works on optimisations and security patches. Windows hosting, while also reliable, can sometimes be more resource-intensive, potentially affecting performance.

Customisation and control levels differ significantly between the two. Linux offers greater flexibility and customisation options, allowing users to tweak server settings and configurations extensively. This level of control is particularly beneficial for developers who need a tailored hosting environment. Conversely, Windows hosting is typically easier to manage for those familiar with the Windows operating system but may offer less flexibility in terms of customisation.

Security measures also vary between Linux and Windows hosting. Linux is often praised for its strong security features, which are bolstered by a large community dedicated to promptly addressing vulnerabilities. While Windows hosting is secure, it may require more frequent updates and maintenance to ensure the same level of protection.

Common Use Cases for Linux Web Hosting

Linux web hosting is versatile and caters to a broad range of applications, making it a popular choice across various sectors. One of the most common use cases is hosting blogs and personal websites, particularly those built on platforms like WordPress. The open-source nature of Linux and its compatibility with PHP make it an ideal environment for WordPress, which powers a significant portion of the web.

E-commerce websites also benefit greatly from Linux web hosting. Solutions like Magento, PrestaShop, and OpenCart often perform better on Linux servers due to their need for a robust, secure, and scalable hosting environment. The flexibility to configure server settings allows online store owners to optimise performance and ensure a smooth shopping experience for their customers.

Content Management Systems (CMS) such as Joomla and Drupal are another prime use case. These systems require reliable and flexible hosting solutions to manage complex websites with large amounts of content. Linux's support for various databases and scripting languages ensures seamless integration and optimal performance for CMS-based sites.

Developers frequently turn to Linux web hosting for custom web applications. The operating system supports a variety of programming languages, including Python, Ruby, and Perl, making it suitable for a wide array of development projects. Its command-line interface and extensive package repositories allow developers to install and manage software efficiently.

Additionally, Linux web hosting is commonly used for educational and non-profit websites. The low cost and high reliability make it a practical choice for schools, universities, and charitable organisations that need a dependable online presence without breaking the bank.

Setting Up a Linux Web Hosting Environment

Setting up a Linux web hosting environment can be straightforward with the right approach. Begin by selecting a reputable hosting provider that offers Linux-based plans. After signing up, you'll typically be granted access to a control panel, such as cPanel or Plesk, which simplifies the management of your hosting environment. Through the control panel, you can manage files, databases, email accounts, and more.

Next, if you're using a content management system (CMS) like WordPress, Joomla, or Drupal, you can often find one-click installation options within the control panel. This feature makes it easy to get your website up and running quickly. Additionally, ensure that you configure your domain name to point to your new hosting server, which usually involves updating your domain's DNS settings.

For those who prefer more control or are comfortable using the command line, you can manually set up your web server using SSH access. This method allows you to install and configure web server software like Apache or Nginx, as well as databases such as MySQL or PostgreSQL.

Regardless of the setup method you choose, it's crucial to secure your server from the outset. This includes setting up a firewall, enabling SSH key authentication for secure access, and regularly updating all software to protect against vulnerabilities. Regularly monitoring your server's performance and security logs can help you stay ahead of potential issues, ensuring a stable and secure hosting environment for your website.

Security Best Practices for Linux Web Hosting

Securing your Linux web hosting environment is paramount to safeguarding your website against potential threats. Begin by ensuring your server software and all installed applications are up to date. Regular updates often include patches for security vulnerabilities, making this a critical step. Utilise strong, unique passwords for all user accounts, and consider employing SSH key authentication for added security when accessing your server remotely.

Setting up a firewall is another essential measure. Tools like iptables or firewalld can help you configure firewall rules to control incoming and outgoing traffic, thereby reducing the risk of unauthorised access. Implementing intrusion detection systems (IDS), such as Fail2Ban, can provide an additional layer of security by monitoring and blocking suspicious activities.

Consider deploying an SSL certificate to encrypt data transmitted between your server and users' browsers. This not only enhances security but also boosts user trust and can improve your search engine rankings. Additionally, limit the use of root privileges; create separate user accounts with the necessary permissions to minimise potential damage in the event of a breach.

Regularly backup your data to mitigate the impact of data loss due to hardware failure, cyber-attacks, or human error. Automated backup solutions can simplify this process, ensuring your data is consistently protected. Monitoring your server's logs can also be invaluable for identifying unusual activity early. Tools like Logwatch or the ELK Stack can assist in log management and analysis, enabling you to take swift action if anomalies are detected.

Common Challenges and How to Overcome Them

Setting up and maintaining a Linux web hosting environment can present various challenges, especially for those new to the platform. One frequent issue is navigating the command line, which can be daunting for beginners. Engaging with online tutorials, forums, and communities like Stack Overflow can be invaluable for learning the basics and troubleshooting problems. Another common challenge is software incompatibility. Ensuring your web applications are compatible with the Linux distribution you choose is crucial; consulting documentation and support resources can help mitigate these issues.

Security configuration can also be a complex task. Implementing best practices such as setting up firewalls, regular updates, and using strong authentication methods requires a good understanding of Linux security principles. Managed hosting services can offer a solution here by handling these technical aspects for you, allowing you to focus on your website content.

Resource management is another area where users might struggle. Monitoring server performance and managing resources effectively ensures your website runs smoothly. Utilising monitoring tools and performance optimisation techniques can help you stay ahead of potential issues. Lastly, when it comes to server backups, regular, automated solutions are essential to prevent data loss and minimise downtime. Being proactive in addressing these challenges will ensure a more seamless and secure Linux web hosting experience.

Popular Control Panels for Linux Web Hosting

Control panels are invaluable for simplifying the management of your Linux web hosting environment. Among the most popular are cPanel, Plesk, and Webmin. cPanel is renowned for its intuitive interface and extensive feature set, making it a favourite among users who need a straightforward yet powerful management tool. Plesk offers robust functionality and supports both Linux and Windows servers, providing versatility for those who manage multiple server environments. Webmin stands out as a free, open-source option that allows comprehensive server management through a web interface, catering to those who prefer a customisable and cost-effective solution. Each control panel brings unique strengths, helping to streamline tasks such as file management, database administration, and security configurations.

Choosing the Right Linux Web Hosting Provider

Choosing the right Linux web hosting provider involves several key considerations. Firstly, evaluate the quality of customer support offered. Responsive and knowledgeable support can be invaluable, especially when troubleshooting technical issues or during the initial setup phase. Check if the provider offers 24/7 support and multiple contact methods such as live chat, email, and phone.

Another crucial factor is the security measures in place. Opt for providers that offer robust security features, including regular backups, SSL certificates, firewalls, and DDoS protection. These features help safeguard your website against potential threats and ensure data integrity.

Reliability and uptime guarantees are also vital. Aim for providers that offer at least a 99.9% uptime guarantee, as frequent downtimes can significantly affect your website’s accessibility and user experience. Additionally, look into the provider’s data centre infrastructure and redundancy measures, which can impact overall performance and reliability.

Scalability is another important aspect to consider. As your website grows, you’ll need the flexibility to upgrade your hosting plan seamlessly. Check if the provider offers scalable solutions, such as easy transitions to VPS or dedicated hosting, without causing disruptions to your site.

Lastly, consider the hosting plans and pricing structures available. While cost-effectiveness is a significant benefit of Linux web hosting, ensure the plans align with your specific needs. Compare the features, storage, bandwidth, and other resources included in different plans to find the best value for your money.

Reading customer reviews and seeking recommendations can also provide insights into the provider’s reputation and service quality. By carefully evaluating these factors, you can choose a Linux web hosting provider that meets your requirements and supports your online endeavours effectively.

Conclusion and Final Thoughts

Linux web hosting stands out as an optimal choice for both beginners and seasoned web developers. Its open-source nature provides an affordable, highly customisable, and secure environment, suitable for a diverse range of websites, from personal blogs to large e-commerce platforms. The extensive community support ensures ongoing improvements and prompt resolution of issues, contributing to its reliability and performance. Choosing the right hosting provider is crucial; look for robust security measures, excellent customer support, and scalability to accommodate your website's growth. By leveraging the strengths of Linux web hosting, you can build a resilient and efficient online presence that meets your specific needs and goals.

[midnightcowboy1969]

My bookshelf

Hey, @beanifred <3 So, here's a big peak at my bookshelf (way too many books as I said)

Beginning with my treasures:

The "Real" Bob Steele and a man called "Brad" by Bob Nareau

The Photostory of "Battling Bob" Bob Steele by Mario DeMarco

2. The Columbo Collection

Just One More thing by Peter Falk

The Grassy Knoll by William Harrington (my enemy)

Murder by the Book by Steven Bochco

And now there's chaos:

3.

Psycho 1 & 2 and Night-World by Robert Bolch (Norwegian edition)

Stand on Zanzibar by John Brunner

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Philip K. Dick

The Body Snatcher by Jack Finney

The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

Trash by Dorothy Allison (lesbian but at what cost)

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

The Buddah of Suburbia by Hanif Kureishi

Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman (I also have American Gods but I cannot find it)

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

Rosemary's Baby by Ira Levin

The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin

The Complete Short Stories: Hercule Poirot by Agatha Christie

Then There Were None by Agatha Christie

What Ever Happened to Baby Jane by Henry Farrell

The Hunter by Richard Stark

Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut

Animal Farm by George Orwell

The System by John Burke (novelization)

Alien Nation by Alan Dean Foster (novelization)

Edge of the City by Fredrick Pohl (novelization)

Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison

Babysitter by Joyce Carol Oates

A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

The Collector by John Fowels

Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier (Norwegian edition)

2001: A Space Odyssey by Arthur C. Clarke (novelization)

Ninteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell

East of Eden by John Steinbeck

Jaws by Peter Benchley

Wanderer by Sterling Hayden (the actor)

The Wicker Man by Robin Hardy & Anthony Shaffer (Novelization (?))

Dark Matter by Blake Crouch

4.

Terror by Dan Simmons

Papillon 1 & 2 by Henri Charrière (Norwegian editions)

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers (book of all time)

The Member of the Wedding by Carson McCullers

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey

Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck

Midnight Cowboy by John L. Herlihy

Shooting Midnight Cowboy by Glenn Frankel

Cape Fear by John D. McDonald (watch the movies)

The Bretheren by John Grisham (Norwegian edition)

Dracula by Bram Stoker

The Marlow Murder Club by Robert Thorgood

Glitz by Elmore Leonard (Norwegian edition)

The Big Sleep and Other Novels by Raymond Chandler (the other novels are Farwell My Lovely and The Long Goodbye)

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky

The Client by John Grisham (Norwegian edition)

Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman

The Man Who Died Twice by Richard Osman

The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty

Legion (Exorcist 2) by William Peter Blatty

La Peste by Albert Camu (Norwegian edition)

Welcome to Night Vale by Joseph Fink & Jeffery Cranor (not read)

The Wonder Boy of Whistle Stop by Fannie Flagg

The Day of the Dolphin by Robert Merle

Local Hero by David Benedictus (novelization)

The Glass Cage by Colin Wilson

American Psycho by Brett E. Ellis

Fools Die by Mario Puzo (Norwegian edition)

The Godfather by Mario Puzo

The Sicilian by Mario Puzo (Norwegian edition)

5.

Fire & Blood by George R.R. Martin (Norwegian edition) + Four different Game of Thrones books in Norwegian

The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

Dragon Keeper by Robin Hobb

The Princess Bride by William Goldman

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

Enders Game by Orson Scott Card

The Betsy by Harold Robbins (Norwegian edition)

Aliens by Alan Dean Foster (novelization)

Master and Commander by Patrick O'Brian

The Auctioneer by Joan Samson

Timeline by Michael Crichton

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

Charlotte's Web by E.B. White

Red Dragon by Thomas Harris

The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris

Dune, The Children of Dune and God Emperor of Dune by Frank Herbert

Hitchiker's Guide to the Galxy by Douglas Adams

Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

6.

Trumpet by Jackie Kay

Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner

Blue Lily, Lily Blue by Maggie Stiefvater

The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater

Trigger Warning by Neil Gaiman (short story collection that made me dislike short stories)

Mr. Monk in Trouble by Lee Goldberg (my enemy)

Mr. Monk and the Dirty Cop by Lee Goldberg (I hate him)

A Room of One's Own by Virginia Wolf

Oranges are not the Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson

The Perks of being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

Maurice by E. M. Forster

The Case of the Gilded Lily by Erle Stanley Gardner (Norwegian edition)

The Case of the Glamorous Ghost by Erle Stanley Gardner (Norwegian edition)

Something Happened by Joseph Heller

Marathon Man by William Goldman

Skulduggery Pleasant by Derek Landy

Skulduggery Pleasant: Playing with Fire by Derek Landy

The Hunting Party by Lucy Foley (Norwegian edition)

The Guest List by Lucy Foley

The Paris Apartment by Lucy Foley

A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry

The Line of Beauty by Alan Hollinghurt

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid (Norwegian edition)

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three by John Godey (bad)

Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg

The All-Girl Filling Station's Last Reunion by Fannie Flagg

Killing Time by Della Van Hise (Star Trek Spinoff Spirk book)

Star Trek: Department of Temportal Investigations: Forgotten History by Christopher L. Bennet

Star Trek Deep Space Nine: The Missing by Una McCormack

Star Trek Enterprise: Rise of the Federation: Uncertain Logic by Christopher L. Bennett

7. Stephen King Collection

Outsider

If it Bleeds

On Writing

Blaze

Carrie

The Stand

Hearts in Atlantis (Norwegian edition)

The Tommyknockers

Cujo

Thinner (Norwegian edition)

The Shining

Night Shift

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon (Norwegian edition)

Dreamcatcher

Doctor Sleep

Rose Madder

Pet Sematary

Christine

Salem's Lot

Dolores Claiborne (Norwegian edition)

The Bachman Books

The Institute

Insomnia

Misery

Finders Keepers

End of Watch

Firestarter

The Body

Needful Things (Norwegian edition)

Bag of Bones

8. Not pictured

A collection of Sherlock Holmes books

Many Hardy Boys books

Chilly Scenes of Winter by Ann Beattie

Some comic books

I believe this is approximately everything lol.

My dream is to have a small cozy rooms dedicated to the books I own. It won't happen any time soon.

[forexvpswithlowcost]

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[keepsdeathhiscourt]

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature (18+ Only)

Story Summary: It's been ten years since Lucie LeMarche last set foot in New Orleans. But when she's forced to return to bury the woman who raised her, she finds herself pulled into the midst of rising supernatural tensions in the city. Entangled in a web of intrigue and seeking answers, Lucie must learn to navigate a powder keg of warring factions, family secrets, and old wounds if she hopes to survive.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Language, Death, Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Family Drama, Gore, Depictions of Violence, Death

Series Masterlist

Read on AO3

Chapter 12: Emerald and Pearl

It’s still early morning when Lucie steals into the study. The sun is only an hour or so past the golden dawn hours, gaining intensity with every inch towards midday. 

Despite the trappings of modern convenience, the manor home is built to hold heat in, clinging with a tenacity that has Lucie swiping at her damp forehead. And as she rifles through the antique desk, she silently curses the unseasonable warmth that makes the room feel more like a greenhouse than a study. 

The hoodie she’d slept in lies abandoned over the back of an armchair, leaving her in a tank top and shorts. The hardwood digs into her bare knees, pressing against the bruise from last night’s spill. She barely notices, slamming a drawer shut with little respect for its age. 

Papers litter the floor, corners fluttering beneath the breeze from the window she’d wrenched open in a fruitless attempt to alleviate the heat. She can hear murmuring from down the hall. She’d passed by Hayley’s door on the way down, caught snippets of an exchange with Klaus, hovering just long enough to make sure there wasn’t a repeat of last night’s fiasco. 

They’ve been cloistered away for a while now, unaware of the rummaging downstairs.

The journal has been eating at her thoughts since she woke up, driven by an overwhelming need to open it again—no, to hide it. But when she’d stuffed her hand into the pile of papers to recover it, it had come away empty. 

Eventually, she’s forced to admit the journal is gone with nothing but a stashed bottle of bourbon and a few dust bunnies to show for her efforts. 

Defeated, she makes for the underutilized kitchen, determined to try again with caffeine in her system. With Klaus and Hayley still somewhere upstairs, the room is empty, sunlight plucking out the sheen in the immaculate granite countertops.

She relies on muscle memory to guide her groggy, agitated body through the motions, scooping out the grounds and filling the water on autopilot. 

The coffee percolates in the pot, filling it with a steady drip. Leaning against the counter to wait, she closes her eyes in anticipation, drinking in the rich, bitter smell. 

The machine beeps, the water trickles to nothing. A groan catches in the back of her throat as she drinks in the first sips with relish. It’ll be the only one she gets because at that moment, Rebekah bursts through the front door, frazzled and on a mission. 

She should leave it, mind her business, and enjoy her coffee.

Lucie follows her blazing trail, using the cover to slip unnoticed back into the study. 

Within seconds, the sounds of raised voices find her. She does her best to tune them out, to stay out of it all for once. All she wants is to find Elijah’s journal, to put it somewhere safe where his privacy is spared from prying eyes. She owes him that much. 

But it’s not to be.

“What the devil are you doing in here?” 

Lucie nearly jumps out of her skin, rounding to meet Rebekah’s inquisitive stare as coffee sloshes over the edge of her mug and splats onto the floor. 

Oh, just trying to find your missing brother’s journal that contains his most intimate thoughts and feelings.

“Uh…research?”

Rebekah’s eyes narrow, skeptical from her spot in the doorway. Then, all at once, she eases. “Whatever. Get dressed, you’re coming with me.”

“Leaving?” Lucie repeats. “Where?”

It earns her an irritated sigh in response like the answer is glaringly obvious. 

“To town. I have a lead on Elijah and you’re going to help me look for him.” 

It’s enough to give Lucie pause, coffee forgotten as suspicion replaces confusion. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” she starts, careful. “I’m grateful to see something built in the last century, but why me?” 

The unspoken question stretches out between them: Why not Hayley or Klaus? 

“Elijah is being kept in a church somewhere in the Quarter by a witch and I think it would be useful—”

“To bring in another witch,” she finishes for her. Rebekah nods her head, almost apologetic. 

She sighs. “Let me get changed.”

Fifteen minutes later, Lucie descends the stairs in a pair of jeans, a fresh shirt, and her worn boots, towards where Rebekah is already waiting by the front door. 

She’s halfway there when Klaus, appearing from nowhere, steps into her path. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out,” she says, arms crossed. 

His brow raises, glancing from her to Rebekah, comprehension dawning. “I don’t recall giving you permission to take my resident witch gallivanting about town.”

“And I don’t recall giving you permission to barter Elijah to the enemy, but here we are. You said ‘whatever it takes’, well, this is part of it. Now, are you going to let us find him, or are you going to stand in the way?”

Lucie holds her breath, waiting for the fresh wave of contention the jab is about to ignite. 

Klaus says nothing, only diverts his gaze beneath the force of Rebekah’s stare. 

If Lucie didn’t know any better, she might think he almost looks…ashamed?

Whatever they’d argued about earlier, it’s still weighing on him because he steps aside, allowing her to pass. 

“Come on, we’re wasting daylight.”

____

The woods pass by in a blur. Flashes of deep yellow greens, golden browns, and fiery oranges, the colors of autumn thin, replaced with asphalt and brick as the road leads them steadily back to New Orleans. 

Lucie watches them from the passenger seat of the flashy red convertible. Rebekah insisted that she wouldn’t be caught dead in Lucie’s humble sedan.

She doesn’t mind, not really. The breeze that cuts over the windshield is cool, running gentle fingers across her scalp. Her hair will be a tangled mess later, but she’s committed to enjoying her first venture beyond the orchard since her ill-fated encounter with Klaus. 

“Where to first?” she asks when they’re only a few miles out from the French Quarter. 

Her good mood sours the second Rebekah says, “The Jardin Gris.”

She imagines running into Arabella or Vivienne there, or worse, Agnes. Her blood chills at the thought of a dramatic confrontation, hurts laid bare while Rebekah watches on. 

“Would you mind dropping me by my house?” 

“I’m not a chauffeur service,” Rebekah replies, adjusting her sunglasses in the rearview. 

“I want to pick some things up,” Lucie says, unwilling to get into all the grisly details about why the Jardin Gris is the last place she should be. “I’m dying to sleep in my own pajamas. Please.”

Rebekah shoots her a sideways glance as the light turns red and they come to a stop.

“Alright, but don’t think this gets you out of helping,” she concedes. And then adds, “I thought you’d be excited at the prospect of visiting your old stomping grounds.”

Lucie does her best to resist the urge to pick at her cuticles, keeping her demeanor nonchalant. 

“I’m part of the Garden District coven, or was. So technically, they’re not my old stomping grounds,” she says. “Besides, I get the feeling my presence might ruin whatever top-secret business you’re up to.”

“Fine. More fun for me.”

They lapse into silence broken only by Lucie’s occasional directions until they stop in front of the little house in the Lower Garden District.

“How quaint,” Rebekah says, eyeing the wide porch and chipped green door. There’s no bite, just a vague wistfulness. 

Lucie steps out onto the sidewalk, careful not to let the car door slam. 

“Thanks.”

“Yes, well, don’t get too cozy. I’ll be back soon.”

“Got it. And Rebekah,” she calls out. The blonde quirks a brow over her sunglasses. “Try not to kill anyone.”

____

Rebekah leans back, pressing her back against the cool brick, using the shade of an awning to escape the worst of the sun's glare. 

It had taken her longer than she’d have liked to get here from the Lower Garden District and most of that had to do with her decision to drive instead of run. Road construction meant a detour that added an extra twenty minutes to the journey, but it was worth it to sit in the convertible with the top down and bask in the sun on her arms, the breeze through her hair. 

Not that it made much of a difference in the end. She’s been waiting for ten minutes, enough time to loop the block and touch up her makeup, with no sign of her contact. 

Some people have no manners, she thinks just as Sophie Deveraux rounds the corner and makes her way up the street. 

Her dark hair slips loose from its confinement behind her ear. Unaware she’s been noticed, she worries at her lower lip with her teeth, eyes darting nervously to and fro. 

Rebekah steps forward, intercepting her before she can pass by. It’s worth it to see the alarm cross Sophie’s delicate features as she avoids a collision. 

“Rebekah!”

“Oh, so glad you could make it. Elijah only lies daggered and rotting whilst you dilly-dally.”

Sophie’s demeanor shifts, anxiety fading as irritation takes its place. “You’re lucky I came at all,” she bites out. “What do you want?”

“Hayley was attacked last night by Marcel’s crew because somebody told him there was a werewolf in the Quarter. She only made one stop. Whoever saw her here ratted her out,” she says. “Watch and learn.”

With that, she turns and ducks into the nearest shop, not bothering to see if the witch is following. 

The bell chimes, the sharp scent of incense mixed with something distinctly herbal overwhelms her the second she crosses the threshold. 

The shop is dim, especially compared to the blinding midday sunlight. Baubles glint in the light. Clusters of beads and charms hang from every surface. Shelving and mismatched end tables create narrow walkways between wares. All of it culminates in one big sensory nightmare.

“Hey, Soph,” a sweet voice greets to her left. Her head whips around to where a willowy, tawny-skinned woman leans against the counter, tying the ribbon on a cluster of fresh-cut herbs. 

“Hey, Katie,” Sophie replies, arms crossed and looking distinctly uncomfortable as she casts a side-eye in Rebekah’s direction.

 Katie follows the glance with wide, dark eyes while Rebekah inspects a yellow flower on a glass pendant. 

“That’s filled with marigold — great for attracting the opposite sex. It would look awesome on you.”

She snorts, snatching her hand away from the necklace. “I very seriously doubt that. Do you have any others, one with, say, I don’t know.... wolfsbane, perhaps?”

“Wolfsbane?” Her brow furrows, little nose wrinkling. “Why would you want that?”

Rebekah crosses the room with supernatural speed, seizing her by the throat. The effort is worth it to watch the simpering sweetness disappear from her features.

“Please do not play dumb with me,” she says, wrenching the girl off her feet. The bundle of herbs rolls to the floor as she slams her against the countertop. 

“Rebekah!” Sophie’s horrified voice calls out behind her, but she doesn’t care. She’s here for answers and there’s no time to waste, not with Hayley's and Elijah’s lives on the line. 

A garbled sound escapes Katie’s mouth. Rebekah eases her grip just enough to allow her to speak. “I…just sold a werewolf some herbs. That’s… all.”

Her fingers clamp down once more, eyes narrowing to let her know she means business. “Are you lying to me, Katie? I suggest you answer my question honestly.”

Katie wheezes. “Sophie—”

Rebekah glances to the side. Sophie shifts her weight from foot to foot. “Just answer the question, Katie. Please.”

Katie’s posture shifts. “I told someone, but you don’t understand. I—I love him.”

Idiot girl. 

She has her on the floor in an instant, stiletto pressed against Katie’s pulse point.  

“And tell me, who is this vampire Romeo of yours? Shall I count to three?”

She fights down her mounting frustration when the girl balks. It’s to be expected. Fancying herself in love, of course, she’s reluctant to sell him out. 

No matter, all that’s needed is some extra pressure. Literally.

“One.”

She digs the heel deeper. 

“Two.”

“Katie,” Sophie warns, anxious. 

“Three—”

“Thierry!” Katie cries out, tears escaping the corners of her eyes. “I told Thierry. Please, don’t hurt him. Please.”

The stiletto retracts. Rebekah plants her foot back on the floor. The atmosphere shifts immediately, relief rolling off of both witches as Katie shifts into a sitting position, fingers gingerly inspecting her neck. 

“There. That wasn’t so hard was it?” she huffs, brushing her palms against her jeans and ignoring the curdled milk look from Sophie. “Right, no time to waste.”

As she turns to the exit, she catches movement out of the corner of her eye and realizes for the first time that Katie hadn’t been the Jardin Gris’ only occupant.

“You, freckles,” she barks and the woman freezes, staring at her like a deer in the headlights, green eyes round with shock. “If you fancy keeping your head on your shoulders, you’re not going to tell anyone about this. Got it?” 

The girl swallows hard and nods, ruddy curls bouncing with the movement. 

“Good,” she says, resuming her march out the front door. 

“Shit, Katie. Are you alright?”

It’s the last thing she hears as the door swings behind her. Rebekah tosses her head, trying to shake the sensation that she’d seen her somewhere. 

____

Everything in the house looks exactly as she left it the night she went to meet “Elijah” at Rousseau’s. The realization shouldn’t surprise her. It’s only been a few weeks. What had she been expecting? A leveled lot with a hole where the foundation should be? She isn’t sure, only knows that so much has happened in that time that it feels like something should be different—if only to match her inner turmoil. 

She doesn’t waste time reacquainting herself with the space. If she did, she would have noticed the conspicuous lack of dust, the teacup resting on the coffee table, and the unfamiliar coat hung up near the front door. Instead, she makes a beeline for her bedroom, digging into her closet with the zeal of someone who’s been alternating between the same three shirts for weeks. 

The rummaging only stops when she has a sizable pile of clothes on her bed. She’s halfway through stuffing them into an old JazzFest tote bag when she hears footsteps behind her. 

“You going on a cruise or something?”

Lucie nearly jumps a foot in the air. Why does everyone always sneak up on her?

She reels around, coming face to face with the narrowed eyes of her cousin. 

“Vivienne!” she gasps, hand pressed over her chest to soothe her racing heart. “How did you get in here?”

“You’re not the only one with a key, you know,” she shrugs, and Lucie can’t help a sudden rush of guilt. How many times had she used it to come to check up on Violette?  “Came to pick up some paperwork. Didn’t see your car out front. I figured you were long gone by now.”

“Yeah, well, that was the plan,” she shakes her head. “But it’s a long story.”

Vivienne snorts, using her thumbnail to pull up an old piece of tape on the wall. “Isn’t it always?”

Lucie’s arms cross over her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Honest to a fault and never one to spare feelings, especially Lucie’s, Vivienne doesn’t miss a beat. “Even when we were kids, you couldn’t touch anything without making a mess.”

The statement hangs in the air. Delivered without any particular inflection, it stings all the more for the truth of it.

 “Well, I’m just picking some stuff. I’ll be out of your hair before I can ruin anything.”

“Doubt it,” is all Vivienne says, eyeing the overstuffed tote back. There’s an air of finality, one that has her waiting for Vivienne to turn and leave. 

But she doesn’t, just continues to hover in the doorway and they fall into a loaded silence. 

It’s growing unbearable. Then, “You really hurt her, you know.”

Lucie stops stuffing a pair of socks into a side pocket to look up at her, bemused. “Who?”

“Arabella.”

She fully freezes then. The addition has Lucie bristling before the words are fully formed. 

“I hurt her?” she asks, incredulous. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

“She hasn’t seen you in years. She spent weeks smoothing over you coming back with the covens. And then you show up, accuse her of God knows what, and then disappear again. Sounds pretty justified to me.”

“‘God knows what’,” she scoffs. “Is that what she’s calling it?”

“She isn’t calling it anything. She won’t even talk about the funeral. But it’s clear to anyone with eyes that something happened.”

Lucie opens her mouth to argue back and shuts it just as quickly, hefting the tote over her shoulder. “I’m not doing this.”

But when she moves towards the door, Vivienne blocks her path.

“Too bad, because I am,” she says. “What the fuck happened, Lucie?”

She isn’t sure why she relents then. Maybe it’s the rollercoaster of the last month. Or maybe, tired of holding the weight of the truth all by herself, she wants someone-anyone-to share some of the burden. 

Either way, the words spill from her lips, take on a life of their own as she relays the hellish events of the consecration. To Vivienne’s credit, she watches with furrowed brows, not interrupting even as she recounts Violette’s murder. 

When she reaches the end of the story with no harsh commentary, she thinks that maybe, maybe, she’s been heard. That she’ll be believed and they can figure this out together. 

Then Vivienne scoffs, shaking her head. And all hopes are dashed to pieces. 

“See, this is exactly why I didn’t want to have this conversation,” Lucie snaps, defenses snapping back into place. 

“Come on, Lucie,” she shifts, an auburn curl slipping free from her ponytail to settle near her ear. “She used to cry when she couldn’t save the worms in the garden. And now you’re trying to tell me she murdered our aunt in cold blood?”

“I know what I saw.”

“You saw Arabella pour some tea and give it to our sick aunt. You’re many things, but stupid isn’t one of them. Use your head.” 

“What am I supposed to think?”

Something flashes across Vivienne’s doll-like features. And for the first time since they entered this god-awful conversation, Lucie spots cracks in her veneer. Barely perceptible, but Lucie’s known Vivienne her whole life. “I…I don’t know, okay?”

She recognizes a flicker of doubt, understands the life-shattering reality of what she’s trying to make her believe, and something softens. 

“What exactly are you asking for, Viv?”

Vivienne steps back, an aggressive stance easing into a natural guardedness, and she sighs. 

“Arabella’s been absolutely beside herself since the funeral,” she says, pausing to find her next words. “She’s never given up on you, not once. I just think you owe it to her to at least hear her out.” 

They lock eyes then, emerald on brown. Transforming back into little girls rarely ever apart from one another. 

She pushes off the door frame and heads back into the hall. Lucie takes a few moments to collect herself. Then, pulled by some invisible force, follows to where she’s stopped in front of a hanging frame. 

“I remember this day,” Vivienne says with a wryly half-smile as Lucie stops just behind her. Over her shoulder, she spots a familiar photo. A six-year-old Arabella grins at the camera with missing teeth, clutching an unhappy-looking gray cat to her chest. 

“This is when Bella brought home that stray cat, isn’t it?” she asks softly, with a smile of her own. When Vivienne nods, she laughs and adds, “Remember when she made us help her sneak it into the house to give it a bath?”

“It clawed the absolute shit out of us. She really thought she could hide it.” Vivienne chuckles. “God, she cried so hard when Auntie told her she had to put it back.”

A blossoming warmth rises into Lucie’s chest, a sense of the chasm between them narrowing.

“She wailed all night. You remember how allergic Peter was? His eyes would swell shut and—”

The shift is palpable, all the air is sucked out of the room at once. Her stomach drops, her eyes drift to the discolored scar tissue creeping above Vivienne’s neckline. 

“Vivienne, about what happened at the Farrell place—”

She watches her harden back into porcelain before her eyes. 

“No. We’re not going there,” she says, voice clipped. “Not now, maybe not ever. I came here for Arabella and said everything I needed to. Now I’m leaving.”

“Viv—”

The door slams shut behind her. Lucie feels the gulf widen once more.

____

The engine hums, a slight breeze plucking up the ends of her hair as she waits, the car idling by the curb. 

Somewhere inside, Lucie is taking her own sweet time. She whips out her phone, typing a rapid-fire text to the recently acquired phone number. 

Where are you?

A minute passes before her phone buzzes.

Be out in a second. 

She sighs, settling into her seat before dialing Klaus. 

He doesn’t answer on the first ring or the fourth. It’s not until she loses count, waiting for his voicemail to kick in, that he finally picks up. 

“Nik?” she ventures, hearing nothing but scuffling on the other end. 

“Be quick about it. I have an army to build, and one compelled minion does not an army make—” Her brother barks orders to someone on the other end before leveling her with a less than patient: “Well?”

She elects to let it go. Just this once. “You were right about the traitor. Luckily, she’s just a kid, and she doesn’t know anything about us and what we’re up to. Do you want to hear the part that’s gonna please you the most?”

That must cheer him considerably, because she practically hears him grinning on the other end as he says, “Oh, do tell!”

She flips the sun visor up and down absently. “She’s in love with someone in Marcel’s inner circle. Guess who it is?”

Klaus only pauses for a moment. “Right-hand man type favors silly caps?”

She eases a little, relieved not to have to spell it out. Her brother may be many things, but dull is not one of them. 

“Two points for you. Thierry is fraternizing with the enemy.”

“Well, that means he just unwittingly became the key to our entire plan.”

“I told you you’d be pleased,” she says, ignoring the sudden pit in her stomach. Just then, Lucie steps out onto the porch, fiddling with her keys to lock up. 

Klaus chuckles on the line. “Oh, to be young and in love in a city where witches and vampires are at war. How very tragic—”

She’s only half-listening now. The witch is off the porch and crossing the lawn with a markedly unhappy expression. 

“Lucie’s here,” she says, cutting him off. “I have to go.” 

She hangs up before Klaus can say another word, phone landing in the cupholder just as Lucie wrenches open the door and sinks into the passenger’s seat, bag deposited in the backseat. 

“How’d it go?” Lucie asks, clicking her seatbelt into place and staring into the side mirror. 

She grins. “Swimmingly.”

“Do I want to know?” 

“Probably not,” she admits, turning the key in the ignition. The car roars to life. “I saw another car leaving when I pulled up.”

“My cousin,” is all the witch says. 

It shouldn’t bother her. Usually, Rebekah is content to mind her own business, and whatever has the girl looking so glum certainly has nothing to do with her. “Did something happen?” 

“Nope.”

Rebekah resists the urge to roll her eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“You can add it to the list,” she says flatly, staring out the window as they pull onto the main road. 

She frowns at that. While the witch has several irritating qualities, self-pity isn’t usually one of them. “What’s your deal with them, anyway?”

She doesn’t specify. They both know who she’s talking about.

The blinker clicks, the only sound between them. She’s sure that Lucie heard her and has elected not to answer—

“I made a mistake and people I loved got hurt. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I broke one of my coven’s biggest tenets.”

“Which one?” she asks, unable to resist her curiosity.

“Does it matter now?”

“I suppose not. Continue.”

“A tribunal was called so they could decide what to do with me. An elder was called from each coven to represent their faction. My great-aunt Violette was one of them.” Her voice is without inflection. The detachment tells Rebekah that whatever is coming next isn’t pleasant. “I was terrified out of my mind, listening to them speak, waiting for them to decide my fate. The only thing that kept me together was knowing that Violette was there, that she’d come to my defense.”

They merge onto the highway. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Lucie swallow hard. When she continues, her breath is shaky. “But when it was her turn, she stood up in front of the entire tribunal and not only pushed for the shunning but insisted on performing the rite herself.” 

No stranger to familial betrayal, Rebekah winces. Lucie continues, “I’m sure you know New Orleans witches are a little different from other witches. We derive our magic from an ancestral well, drawing power from those passed on with the agreement that when we die, we're consecrated, and our magic fuels the well for future generations.”

“The rite cuts you off from the well,” Rebekah nods, catching the thread of conversation and following along. She’d known it to have been done once or twice during their rule over the city but never witnessed it firsthand. Then something occurs to her. “But I’ve seen you do magic.”

Lucie nods, looking over at her as she explains, “My father was born into ancestral magic. But my mother wasn’t from here. All her magic came from nature. It’s why I can still do some, even if it’s less reliable now.” 

“But something obviously brought you back.” 

“She died, my great aunt,” she states, with that detachment that Rebekah is rapidly growing to dislike. “I came back for the funeral only to find out they murdered her and tried to kill me, too.”

She can’t help the whistle that escapes at that. “And I thought my family took the cake for dysfunction.” Something else clicks. “So your deal with Elijah—”

“He wanted information on the witches, and I needed someone to watch my back.” 

It all makes sense now, she supposes, now that she can see the full picture. There isn’t anything left to say. This should be the part where they fall into uncomfortable silence and then pretend this conversation never happened. 

Rebekah surprises even herself when she says, “I know what it’s like to feel betrayed by those who are supposed to love you most.” Her hands grip the wheel, eyes fixed ahead. “I’m truly sorry, for what it’s worth.”

“I…uh…thanks,” Lucie stammers, eyes wide. Her cheeks flush, her head dips away so she can look out the window. “Weren’t we supposed to be looking for Elijah?”

“Change of plans. I have a ball to get ready for.” An idea that’s been forming since she saw her dejected face leaving the little house comes to fruition.

“Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to like where this is going?”

“You didn’t think I was going to shop for a dress by myself.” 

____

Ultimately, they decide on a black dress, a strapless floor-length number with a satin belt that highlights Rebekah’s long legs and offsets her fair features. She’s a vision of elegance as she slips into it, adding raven feathers to her updo to accent.

Lucie should feel satisfaction, or at least relief as she watches Rebekah leave with Klaus in the gown that had taken them hours to pick out. 

Instead, as they step into the car, masks in hand, it feels like salt in a wound. 

When they’d arrived home only hours before, it was to Klaus in the parlor with Sophie Deveraux in tow. It was then that he’d highlighted the extent of his plans. Plans that involved using leverage to manipulate some Quarter witch — whose name only kind of rings a bell—so Sophie could do a locator spell to find some other witch, who Lucie knows nothing about besides the fact that she’s powerful and has Elijah. 

All the while, it fell to Lucie to stay home and look after a pregnant werewolf who absolutely did not need her protection. 

She certainly isn’t hurt at not being involved in whatever diabolical plot Klaus has concocted. Rather, it’s the rejection that stings, the confirmation of her own inadequacy. Klaus had plucked her away from her life, whisking her to the middle of nowhere to wait on standby like a magical vending machine, only to be sidelined when it really counts. 

A grievance that was met with dismissal by Klaus when she voiced it. It wasn’t until Rebekah had refused to meet her eyes that she knew she’d told him of their first disastrous attempt at a locator spell. 

She’d left the room then, angry and unwilling to let them bear witness to the hurt. She had nothing to prove, especially not to Original vampires. Opting instead to sit by the window of her borrowed room and watch the golden hours fade into a starry evening. 

The property is quiet, blanked in a velvety blue that she’d find charming if she weren’t so wound up. 

And normally she’d be thrilled at a night undisturbed. But as things stand, the peace rankles, intensifying the bitter pill in her throat.

A gust of wind rips through the orchard, divesting trees of their dying leaves with a sound unique to autumn and she finds wondering what part of the plan is being executed now.

 She feels a shimmer of concern. Though murky on the details, she knows enough about Marcel and Klaus to doubt the other witches—the decoy or the weapon—will survive the night. 

It shouldn’t bother her as much as it does. Aligned with the coven in one case and a vampire in the other, they’ve made their beds. But she can’t help but wonder if they, like her, had much say in the matter. Young witches tossed about in a game of magical politics because of the power they were born with and had no say over.

She shakes it off, refusing to let herself be carried away. And that’s when she sees it. 

There, beyond the back porch, beneath the shadows of sleeping apple trees, is a figure; lean and tall. A shadow specter amongst the fallen leaves.

And though she can’t see their face, can’t make out any distinguishable features, she knows when their eyes meet hers there’s a pull. Like a magnetic field pulling her into their orbit, urging her forwards.

Maybe that’s why when they turn away to edge towards the treeline, she doesn’t give a second thought. In an instant, she’s up and moving with no thought beyond the overwhelming desire not to let them slip away this time. 

Because she knows somehow, without any doubt, that this figure is the same one she’d seen in the mirror and then again in the glass of the backdoor at Violette’s.

She takes the steps two at a time, cursing the impractical spiral staircase before bounding the length of the house and spilling out onto the back porch. 

She passes Hayley by the pool. Deep in thought, but otherwise unharmed, Lucie leaves her uninterrupted. 

It only takes seconds for her to descend the porch steps and pad across the damp grass to reach the middle orchard, the place where she’d last seen the figure. 

But there’s no shadowy shape, no human form. Only Lucie standing alone amongst the trees, heart pounding. 

When she thinks she’s lost then, she catches movement out of the corner of her eye. Wheeling around, she sees a silhouette slip past the treeline, deep into the woods. She doesn’t think, just follows, ignoring the way roots and rocks bite into the soles of her bare feet and the night air chilling her exposed skin. 

She keeps them in her sights, barely. Like each step she closes between them, they add five more, determined to stay only at the very edges of her vision. 

Then they stops. Her pace increases, the distance closing. She’s within reach. All she needs to do is extend a hand, convince them to turn around and—

The figure is gone like they had vanished to vapor and joined the breeze.  

She’s alone, her ragged panting the only sign of life to be found. She nearly screams when a hand grasps her shoulder. 

“What in the bloody hell are you doing out here?”

She turns, following the hand on her shoulder up to an irritated Rebekah, still clad in her ballgown. 

Defensively, she reaches for an explanation to throw back at her, only to find she doesn’t have one. “I…”

Rebekah rolls her eyes. “Nevermind. Let's go.” 

She doesn’t wait for a response, snatching Lucie’s wrist and making a beeline for the house before she can even form half a protest. Anger at Rebekah momentarily forgotten as she tries to wrap her head around whatever had just happened. 

____

The most bitter part of taking a dagger to the chest is the inability to gauge the passage of time. Dreaming on end with no idea if a week has passed or a decade. Then those first hazy moments of wakefulness followed by the gut-twisting panic over determining how far the world has gone on with you. 

He’d felt for Rebekah, when she’d awoken after ninety years of forced slumber, held her as she wept bitter tears into his chest, grieving the years of her life stolen from her. 

He feels the same dread, even as the dream starts anew. It starts as it always does with Klaus and Kol grappling in the sun. He watches on, though it’s hardly necessary. By now, he can narrate the events down to the second. Knows the exact moment Henrik laughs, when Rebekah will weave the final stem into her flower crown, and that soon the stag will appear to lure him into the woods. 

Except this time, it never comes. 

Instead, he turns just in time to glimpse dark hair as a slight form dips into the trees.

“Tatia, wait!” he calls, long strides carrying him across the meadow to follow. The woods are quiet, despite the liveliness of the spring day. He tracks her shadow, the flick of her skirts as she weaves around the trunks of ancient trees. Their branches, thick with leaves and fighting for space, blot out the sun. Light slips in the sparse spaces between, dappled slivers of yellow guiding his way. 

Then, he reaches the edge of a clearing, the one where he’s killed the stag—killed Tatia—over and over.

In the center, painted in golden sunlight, he sees her. No longer racing ahead, she stands tall, unmoving. Like the small carven statue of Frigg that mother keeps by the hearth. 

A breeze sweeps through the meadow, batting at the long strands of her hair, the hem of her white dress, shattering the illusion. 

He calls her name, soft and uncertain, though he cannot guess why. Maybe it’s the wrongness of her height, too short for her long-legged form. Or perhaps the unfamiliar coils of her hair. 

Slowly, slowly, she turns, and he finds himself staring into an unexpected pair of eyes. 

His brows knit. “Lucretia?” 

Bewilderment courses through him, thoughts racing at a breakneck pace that he cannot hope to make sense of. 

If the girl notices his confusion, she makes no mention, simply watches him with a placid, dreamy expression.

“Why are you so frightened, Elijah?”

Her arm extends out to him, too thin and so pale he can see the blue crisscrosses of her veins in the light. Her fingers are trembling. 

He wants to reach back out. Though the clearing is still and tranquil, he cannot shake the overwhelming urge to go to her, to shield against an unseen danger that crackles like an approaching thunderstorm in the surrounding air. 

But his legs are leaden and his arms remain pinned resolutely at his sides, trapping him in the shade inches from the sunlit grass. 

Her lips pull into a frown, though her eyes remain glassy. And as if tired of waiting, her arm drifts back to her side, fingers folding into the gauzy fabric of her skirts. 

Something glints in the light. Two sets of eyes follow its trail. A serpent with emerald scales weaves through the grass, winding its way toward her bare ankles. 

The words stick in his throat as he tries to call out to her, to warn her. His panic only grows as she dips into the grass, allowing the snake to wind around her arm. 

She rises, expression calm, drawing the creature to eye level. Inspecting it with reverence, she does not look away as she asks, “Isn’t this what you wanted?” 

Her voice floats to him, clear as if she was standing at his side. Somehow, he knows it was meant for him, not the serpent. 

Her head cocks to the left, the light plucking out the red in her hair as it spills over her shoulder, exposing the long column of her neck. 

He knows what is coming next. Yet, rooted to the ground, he’s helpless to stop it as the serpent rears its head back, maw curling to free pearlescent fangs. The foreknowledge does nothing to curb the fear, the unabashed horror as it darts out in the blink of an eye. 

Lucie gasps, body rigid, and Elijah can only watch on as it buries its teeth in the delicate flesh of her throat, scales gleaming in the dappled light. 

Venom drips into the grass, turning green to black, eroding the scene. 

Once more, he leans against the tree, standing silent vigil over his siblings. The air is thick with smoke, angry reds and oranges make the shadows stretch and retract. 

A crumpled form clad in white rests at his feet, blood and venom spilling from her wounds. Blank glassy eyes stare up at him in accusation. 

He wipes at his mouth. The back of his hand comes away streaked with red. All the while, the forest burns. 

Though he cannot move, he sees it all—the carnage of an old life laid out before him.

Henrik’s little body, ravaged by wolves. Klaus, screaming for him even as strips of birch in his father’s hand tear apart the exposed flesh of his back. Kol lost to the darkness. 

The flames consume all until there’s no one left but him and Rebekah. 

The flower crown dips precariously off to one side, the front of her dress soaked in blood as she stands amongst the bodies of her fallen friends. Their eyes meet and she laughs madly, reveling in the destruction as blood pours from her mouth, cascading down her neck, blue eyes wild, hungry, and utterly devoid of innocence. 

“You can help her. You can help them all,” a man’s voice says over his shoulder. 

“How?” His voice cracks, choked and bitterly desperate. “How?” 

“All you have to do is reach out. Go on, Elijah, just lift your hand.”

He tries, gods above, he tries. His arms are useless, his legs unable to carry him even an inch forward. Forced to watch as his life burns around him, unable to lift even a finger to save it.

When he cries out, pain halts any noise. Unexpected warmth blossoms within, a ball of heat that radiates out from a single point at the center of his chest. Empty brown eyes are the last thing he sees as the scene melts away. 

This time, Elijah wakes. 

[mbti-notes]

Hello, I can’t access the study guides (cognitive functions/ type development/ etc) it keeps loading and never opens. Is it a general problem or is it from my device/ network?

It would be more helpful if you provided details about what kind of device, operating system, and program/app you're using. Everything works fine for me and my security settings are quite strict. Other people haven't had any problems either. If you're using a web browser like edge, chrome, firefox, opera, or safari, then it should work. In case you are unaware, the mobile tumblr app is only really good for viewing the most recent posts. To access the rest of the content, i.e., the actual blog itself, you have to use a web browser. This is often where people get confused.

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