#and probably too much information about the things i am finicky about when it comes to writing

[mangoisms]

using calmly writer again. i used it way back when it was just a chrome extension and now they do have the online version available but they've also moved to a downloadable software. decided to try it out for this one oneshot i am working on bc i wanted more font options (only three on the online version but Much More in the download which is nice, especially since i can use lucida grande, ao3's font, that was a very nice find)

it also has different background presets and there's this one...

sort of. curious. i mean. old school. from where. i was so surprised when i clicked it and then everything changed this... very bright bright LOL. or not bright. but. idk. it Stands Out

ETA: it also has this awesome typewriter sound for when you type! do really like that too

otherwise. pretty solid program. you do need a license to keep using the program and its... $12 USD i think? but you can also download it without putting in payment info and it'll give you an unknown amount of time for the trial, which is what i am on. $12 is pretty good, i think, but i like formatting my writing in..... classic book format? (no idea what it should be called but like. no spaces between paragraphs and indents/tabs at the start of each one, you know) and when pasting over from docs, it does get rid of that/other formatting like italics.

you can indent in the software (but not online, also another reason i decided to give the download a try) but it's kind of. well. gestures to the picture. it doesn't do it automatically, either, you have to do it each time. also don't even know if those indents will hold when i export it which might Stink but i'm saving that problem for my future self (so, like, later tonight). also for a proper em dash, you have to hit '-' three times; two makes it Very Small and again. don't know how it holds when its being exported so i just want to be safe/stay consistent with how long the em dashes were originally when typed in docs

that's really the main thing with it. i like my indents. and i also always copy and paste stuff back into google docs when i'm done working on my laptop (where i might ordinarily use scrivener to write, which doesn't give me any problems with any of these things and with copying back to docs), that way i can keep writing on my phone if i'm going to bed or something. of course now i'm using calmly as like... new program. new inspo. i love environmental changes As We All Know. so i'm overlooking it for the grind (the writing)

[oldfritz]

I'm genuinely curious and don't want to start something! Just wanted to ask what you make of the 'Old Fritz might've been asexual' take, I don't know much about him and I feel you're one of the best people to ask esp since you lean towards 'he was probably queer in some way' too

Hey there! So, first off, don’t ever worry about me interpreting you asking me a question as starting something. As much as I love making dumb jokes about the guy, I love nothing more than doing this kind of stuff and defending or explaining my points. There’s two degrees I want to get over the next decade: first my JD and then my MA in Prussian history. I live for this stuff! Always have! Second off, I’m very sorry for not getting to this sooner. Things have been incredibly stressful for me for a variety of different reasons which have made answering your question, until now, rather difficult. Putting this under a cut because, holy shit, it got long!

My personal reasoning for why I think he’s bi (which, correct me if I’m wrong, I’m assuming is what you meant instead of ace and could be a different post entirely since some historians have tried to argue that) stems more to do with some of my lingering questions about the nature of his relationships with certain woman, rather than that of his relationships with men. To me and my modern, queer eye, Fritz’s relationships with men like Hans Hermann von Katte, Francisco Algarotti, Michael Gabriel Fredersdorf, and (much to my personal vexation) one Monsieur Voltaire are either outright homosexual/homoerotic in nature or very, very easily lend themselves to that interpretation rather than strictly romantic friendships (which Wikipedia does a fairly good overview of and, if you’re coming to me from AmRev perspective, uses Hamilton and Laurens’ relationship as a familiar example). While I’m avoiding those relationships in this ask, I’d be more than happy to elaborate upon one/all of them in a different one. 

Before I go into the big pauses that Fritz’s relationships with Madame von Wreech and Countess Orzelska give me, I want to deny the use of Fritz’s wife as an example of Fritz’s attraction to woman. While this, admittedly, may sound odd, we have ample evidence of how turned off and repulsed Fritz found Elisabeth Christine. Before he had even met her, Fritz was complaining about how she was ‘not very pretty, speaks but little, and acts like a blockhead’ (Asprey, 87) and, later, admitted to Grumbkow his plan to ‘keep my word,...get married, but afterwards it will be a case of that is that, and goodbye, Madame, and fare thee well’ (Jones, 52). For Christ’s sake, the man pitied her knowing how his treatment would leave her as ‘one more unhappy princess in the world’! Which is little consolation when you remember he also referred to her with such romantic terms as ‘this unpleasant creature,’ ‘the abominable object of my desires,’ ‘the person,’ and claimed to have preferred to marry ‘the biggest whore in Berlin’ (Asprey, 87). And while we (fortunately? unfortunately?) know quite a bit about their sex life, Fritz largely regarded it as just another duty - to quote him, ‘I will only have the duty to fuck’ (Ibid, 87). And while Seckendorf heard - first, presumably from Count von der Schulenburg and, later on, Count Friedrich von Wartensleben, a close and intimate friend of the then-crown prince - that Fritz would ‘fuck and refuck’ Elisabeth Christine and that said act occurred in the afternoon, it still was out of a sense of obligation (Bely, 481-2). When reminded that if he wanted more money for frivolities, he’d need to produce an heir, Fritz bemoaned that he ‘cannot sleep with my wife out of desire, and when I do sleep with her, I do it out of duty rather than inclination’ (Clark, 50). All this in accumulation, as well as the myriad of other quotes and incidents I’ve left out, makes one wonder why his relationship with Elisabeth Christine is sometimes used by historians to prove any sort of heterosexual impulse in the man when she’s the woman with the weakest supports for that argument.

That being said, now we get to the women with a more muddled places in his romantic escapades, if you will. What exactly happened between Orzelska and Fritz during his trip with his father to Dresden in 1728? The main source for everything that occurred during this trip is Wilhelmina, who didn’t attend and without anything about this specific incident coming from Fritz or Friedrich Wilhelm I, make it rather hard to use as concrete, irrefutable proof. Now, if her recollections were contemporaneous - like coming from a diary or journal she kept at the time - that would be one thing. But it comes from her memoirs which, while a delightful read 10/10 recommend, are written decades after this trip took place and, memory being a finicky thing, can’t be taken to the bank. All those disclaimers, here’s the story as told by her:

‘One evening...,the King of Poland [note: Augustus II] insensibly led the King of Prussia to a very richly decorated room...The King of Prussia, delighted with what he saw, stopped to contemplate all its beauties, when [all of] a sudden a tapestry was rolled up, which procured him a very novel sight. It was a lovely female in a state of nudity [note: Countess Orzelska, the Polish king’s daughter], carelessly reclined on a couch. Her beauty excelled that of the finest pictures of Venus and the Graces; her body seemed of ivory, whiter than snow, and better shaped than that of the Venus de Medicis at Florence.

...Scarcely had the King cast his eyes on the fair one, than he turned about with indignation; and seeing my brother behind him, he rudely pushed him out of the room, and left it immediately after in a violent irritation against the trickery they had attempted to practice on him. ...In spite of the King’s vigilance, [Frederick] had had time to contemplate the Venus of the closet, who did not cause him so much horror as she had done to his father. (Wilhelmina’s Memoirs, vol. 1, 107-6)

Wilhelmina then goes on to claim Fritz had fallen ‘passionately in love’ with Orzelska and that the illness Fritz experienced upon returning home was simply being lovesick. Pinning the accuracy of this story is incredibly difficult because, again, we have only one source relayed decades after the fact and from two volumes of memoirs known to have inaccuracies. While I, personally, would love if he had had a tryst with Orzelska (who is such a badass in her own right and deserves more recognition than as a footnote in this guy’s story), there’s no one way to say with more than 30% confidence. I am inclined to believe something along these lines happened because if someone told me a story like this, lord knows I wouldn’t forget it for the rest of my life. And, with Wilhelmina being so close with her brother, it lends a bit more credence but as to the actual emotional or physical response Fritz had to it, well, without my time machine, I can’t and don’t want to say.

With Madame Eleonore-Louise von Wreech, things are a little more concrete. For starters, Fritz actually talked about her! In written correspondence that survived! We even have seven letters between the two of them that survived, which is a bigger win! As Blanning says, they’re ‘ardent but light in tone, ironic, almost flippant, and highly stylized’ (Blanning, 58). Their relationship was known to those close with Fritz at the time that Schulenberg felt compelled to visit and warn the crown prince against devoting himself to women because ‘the slight pleasures gained cause a million displeasures.’  Fritz’s response? To tell the poor guy that he may have ‘the gift of continence, but I assure you that I do not’ (Asprey, 83-4). Firtz even went so far as to send a letter to her mother, waxing poetic about Louise’s ‘beauty, her majestic air, her bearing, and her entire department.’ It’s worth noting that Louise eventually broke off the affair due to being bored by how he ‘loved [her] too much and often annoyed [her] with his clumsy love’ (Ibid, 84). Contemporaries, including Friedrich Wilhelm, believed Fritz had impregnated her with a daughter who her ‘cuckolded husband would refuse to recognize’ (Blanning, 58). Blanning is the only source I’ve seen dispute this due to this news coming from Seckendorf, who didn’t reveal how he came about this information; that Fritz and Madame von Wreech’s correspondence doesn’t indicate a physical relationship; and on the fact that she was not pregnant. I haven’t been able to find the birth dates or any sort of records for Louise’s two daughters to figure out where their conception could’ve been in the timeline and if it matches with the likely dates for the affair, but I also don’t have the resources Cambridge would afford Blanning. Either way, while the physical nature of the affair is in dispute, the emotional aspect certainly was there. Especially when taking into consideration the fact that she’s the woman Fritz was likely referring to in the 16 August 1737 letter to Voltaire where he claimed she had taught him how to love (and also inspired him to write poetry, which we shouldn’t be thankful for). Specifically, all these years later, he stated how ‘this little miracle of nature possessed every possible charm, together with good taste and delicacy. She sought to transfer these qualities to me. I succeeded well in love but poorly in poetry. Since that time I have very often been in love and have always been a poet’ (Fritz’s Oeuvres, vol. 21, 96).

All this to say, there’s a bit too much evidence of some degree of opposite-gender attraction in Fritz to completely write off the possibility that he could’ve been bisexual. While it’s undeniable he held a preference for men and that’s whose company he typically enjoyed, I still do find it interesting the two exceptions (one potential and the other with a fair degree of certainty) to this. And, while I would never want his attraction to men be minimized in favor of that to women, it still remains important to note to get the most comprehensive picture of the man.

[kieraelieson]

Centaur AU 5

To say Thomas worried the rest of the day would be an understatement. He tried to keep it to himself, but it must have been palpable, since Roman came into the stable bright and happy, and his smile dropped immediately. His eyes went wide, clearly sending messages to the others, but he didn’t say a word until his jockey was gone.

“What happened?!”

“It’s not that much to be concerned about,” Logan said. “My legs are hurting, nothing more.”

“The vet has been called at least!” Roman said, a flash of anger in his eyes. “If—“ his words fizzled out as he turned to see Thomas.

“No, no, Thomas called the vet. She’s coming tonight to help,” Patton said, his tone calming.

“Well,” Roman looked like the wind had been taken out of him. “Good.”

And that somehow reminded Thomas. The very visit probably wouldn’t be over in a few minutes, he would be late to get home again. He was now Extremely glad he’d gotten a cell phone for Remy. Perhaps after a month or so he could afford one for Emile too.

He went to the phone, ignoring the quiet talking from the others.

Remy didn’t pick up right away, and Thomas called a second time.

“Look, I don’t know who you are—“

“Remy, it’s Thomas.”

“Oh. Sorry, this is a weird number. Wait—- don’t tell me you got lost this time!” Remy laughed. “Emile! You’ve got to hear this!”

“No, no, Remy, I’m not lost, I’m still at work. I just called to say I’ll probably have to stay late again.”

There was a vague, displeased grunt. “What, overtime twice in a row? You did negotiate for overtime pay, right?”

Thomas sighed. “No, I’m not sure I’m even getting paid at all for it.”

“What?!” Remy yelled. “Thomas, you are A Doormat!” The sound went a little fainter. “Emile, tell him! He’s not even getting paid for staying late!”

“Really, Thomas, you do need to stand up for yourself in terms of fair payment,” Emile said.

Thomas chuckled slightly, sighing. “I know. I really do. This is just more important than that. I’ll explain when I get home, and I’ll even try to figure out a way to renegotiate.”

“We’ll hold you to that,” Remy promised.

“Be safe and reasonable,” Emile said. “If you get very tired, it may be better to quit before your task is complete or to stay the night there.”

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind,” Thomas said. “Love you guys.”

“Yeah, yeah, all the mushy ‘we love you too’,” Remy said distantly before hanging up.

Thomas smiled a bit. He really missed them, even though it’d only been a few days, they seemed really long.

And then he heard a car stop and a door shut. Hopefully that was the vet.

He turned to offer his most reassuring smile to the centaurs before going out to meet her.

“Oh, hello, are you Thomas?”

“I am, yes, and I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Dr. Avery. Would you help me carry some things?”

“Of course.”

“I’m not surprised something finally happened,” Dr. Avery said, her tone rather annoyed. “I’ve been saying all you recent grooms are lazy and uneducated.”

Thomas tried not to take offense, but really, he was undereducated. He hadn’t had barely an idea of what to do.

“For a centaur like that one you need to be applying liniment all the time, and keep support for his legs between, and he really ought not to be sleeping standing.”

Thomas nodded, extremely glad for the information, though a part of him grated against the tone it was delivered in.

“And he really needs some kinds of exercise other than those competitions. Without the variety, eventually he’ll be unable to do anything else. Maybe it’s even too late already.”

Thomas nodded again.

They entered the stable, and the silence was almost oppressive. All four centaurs stared intently at them, very still, and not making a single sound, not even in response to Thomas’s small smile.

Dr. Avery went right into Logan’s stall, and he narrowed his eyes at her slightly before moving into the middle of the stall, crossing his arms and staring firmly at the wall. It somehow cut into Thomas to see it. As if the vet visiting was something that had happened long ago, and ended very unpleasantly, and this was some sort of unpleasant truce. But he didn’t know what to do about it. He, they all needed a vet, and he strongly doubted he would be able to call his vet. There would be so much paperwork, even just to begin, and Logan was hurt now. Not to mention that the owners might well hate the idea of switching vets.

Dr. Avery unwrapped Logan’s legs and ran her hands carefully over them, making small displeased noises as she found… whatever she was finding.

“Thomas, go out to my truck, there’s a portable x-ray machine. Bring it here.”

Thomas ran to obey quickly.

The vet examined each of Logan’s legs very carefully, and then studied the x-rays, frowning intently, but not saying much. Thomas felt like his breath was held the entire time, waiting on the professional judgement.

“Well, first of all,” she said, still staring at the papers.

Thomas nodded quickly. “Yes?”

“This is going to be expensive to treat,” she said, her tone sour. “There are a number of faint cracks in the cannon bones. I’m quite frankly shocked he hasn’t broken his legs. He needs to stay off his feet as much as possible, and his legs need support, as well as dietary supplements to build up the bones again. He will not be able to participate in any of those competitions whatsoever for 12 weeks at the very least.”

Thomas nodded firmly. He was sure… well, he was desperately hopeful that the Authiers would pay for it.

“But on top of that the mental aspect cannot be discounted. I’ve known this centaur for quite a few years. It will be a long, and painful recovery, if it’s handled just right. I don’t think he’ll pull through it. Centaurs are finicky like that once injured.”

Thomas felt as though she’d managed to slap them all in the face, and Logan at least twice. He wasn’t sure if he was more shocked or angry.

“Add all that to the likelihood that he won’t be able to do many competitions afterwards even if he did somehow pull through it, and from the inactivity his muscles will be atrophied, he won’t be the same for… perhaps six months or more. I don’t know that you’ll, or rather, that the Authiers would find it worthwhile to keep him around anymore.”

Thomas felt like he might fall over. His voice came out squeaky and faint. “Are-- are you seriously suggesting that---”

“Putting him down. Yes.”

There was a choked sound from Patton, who looked both absolutely terrified and like he might throw up. Thomas wondered if he looked the same way. There was suddenly a scream.

“NO!” Virgil had reared up and kicked the door, hard.

Dr. Avery paled. “Why is he loose like that?! That is a violent centaur!”

Thomas, in what was probably a powerful move Emile would berate him for later, managed to shove everything down all at once and put on a conciliatory smile.

“Thank you so much for coming. I will talk to the Authiers, and call you again with their decision. If you leave, it will be easier to get him under control again.”

Virgil was still screaming, the sound more animal than human, and the stall door would not hold much longer.

“That’s at least a three man job! I’ll get the tranquilizers.”

“No.” Thomas said firmly. “Please leave. Now.”

Dr. Avery shook her head like he was crazy, but grabbed her stuff and left.

Thomas shut the stable door, and then heard a cracking of wood. In seconds Virgil was in front of him, rearing up threateningly. If he hadn’t already so far detached himself from the situation, Thomas might have screamed. And then he would have most assuredly died. But he didn’t, he raised his hands slowly and silently in surrender.

“You won’t touch him!” Virgil screamed.

“Virgil, please. I swear to you I will never let anything like that happen to Logan. I swear. I will do everything I possibly can, and if that doesn’t work I’d kidnap him before I let someone kill him. I promise Virgil, everything I can, I will do to make him safe. I promise. Please. Please walk back to your stall. Or to Logan’s. I’m sure he would appreciate you with him.”

It was as if dark clouds started to be blown away as Virgil stood down, taking a step back and turning to look at Logan.

Thomas collapsed to his knees, suddenly sobbing.

Something was going on, but he didn’t know what, only that his breath was coming short and he couldn’t stop himself, nearly curled up in a ball, heavy sobs wracking his body. And then strong arms picking him up and holding him in a hug.

“It’s alright. Everyone’s safe for now.” Someone said. “You did the best you could.”

Thomas tried hard to stop crying. He needed to be the strong one. He needed to fix everything. “I’m so-sorry, I’m trying.”

“It’s alright. We’re all alright for now. Let it out now.”

Thomas slowly managed to regain some kind of composure, and realized that Roman was holding him, knelt down on the floor with him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. You- you shouldn’t have to--”

He was cut off and surprised by Roman squeezing him in a tight hug. “Thomas, you’re giving us the best you have. Thank you. It’s enough.”

And somehow that made him want to cry all over again. Not the same desperate sobs, but it still made him sniff, and quite a few more tears ran down his face. “Thank you, Roman.”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said, his voice quiet and low. “Did-- did you mean what you said?”

Thomas nodded firmly. “I’ll never just stand by while they kill someone. Especially not for being hurt.”

Patton burst into tears, which, judging by his wet face, were not the first by far.

“Is Logan ok?” Thomas asked.

Virgil looked up at Logan’s face, which he could see from his place snugged up against his side. “He’s out.”

It took Thomas a second while his brain screamed ‘he passed out???’ to realize Virgil probably meant he was heavily dissociated. Thomas couldn’t blame him. But… this was probably what the vet meant about centaur’s and their minds once they got injured. It wasn’t their fault, it was a whole life long of trauma. But for Logan to get well again he would have to be present.

But not yet. He deserved to calmly make his way back. He deserved… anything, after being talked about like that. Someone literally threatened to kill him while he stood there listening! Thomas felt anger rising up in him, bringing with it a rush of heat and energy. He was calling the Authiers. And he was not taking no for an answer.

He took the phone with him into the closet, where he couldn’t be so easily overheard. None of them deserved any more bad news.

“Hello?” A familiar voice asked, with loud music in the background. It was the woman who had hired him, and he felt bad to say, he didn’t remember her first name.

“Hello, Mrs. Authier, it’s Thomas Sanders.”

“Oh, Thomas! Do you need something?”

He was going to have to phrase this right if he had much hope. “I’ve been looking into the things that the other grooms did, and I’ve found several problems.”

“Uh huh. Well give me the quick version, I’m a bit busy.”

Thomas took a deep breath. “One of the centaurs needs medical care, and I need more time here. I’d like to be hired full-time, and be able to bring things over here to stay.”

“Oh, that was excellently quick. Is that everything?”

“Um, yes?”

“Great. I’ll give you an empty check for the medical care, and send my lawyer to talk with you in the morning about rearranging the schedule. Are we good now?”

“I… yes. I think so.”

“Great! There’s a party up at the main house, and it’ll go most of the night if you want to join.”

“Uh, thank you.”

“Call anytime, you’re a good summarizer!”

And then she hung up. Thomas was dumbfounded. It was entirely not how he’d expected it to go at all. He was wondering more and more what kind of crazy people he was working for.

He called Dr. Avery, and went to voicemail, which he preferred quite a bit. “Mrs. Authier approved the medical treatment. If you can come in the morning and give me care instructions, I’ll do my best to be sure they’re followed.”

And then Thomas let out a long, relieved sigh. He came out of the closet to many tense faces.

“She said yes. We’re going to treat Logan, and help him the best we can.”

Roman and Virgil sighed in relief, and Patton nearly cried again. “Oh, thank goodness!”

“And,” Thomas said, and suddenly had all eyes fixed on him again. “I think, I might be moving to stay here. Would that be alright with you guys?”

There was a strange silence.

“Well, what we think about it wouldn’t really change anything,” Roman said.

“Of course we’d love to have you!” Patton said, overlapping Roman’s words.

Thomas nodded solemnly. He could understand if they didn’t want him here. They barely knew him, and it’d take away the privacy they had at nighttime.

“Well, for tonight then, I need to wrap up Logan’s legs again, and probably after all that mess Virgil at least could use a brushing down. Would that be alright?”

Thomas looked mostly at Virgil, who nodded, but reluctantly, and didn’t meet his gaze.

And Thomas had to admit, even with the exhausted numbness settling over him, he was scared to be between Logan and Virgil, even though he knew, and they knew too, that he was only trying to help. Logan was still almost frozen, a glazed look in his eyes as he turned lazily to watch Thomas.

Thomas ran a hand gently over Logan’s flank, and over again. He didn’t know if Logan would appreciate petting or if he’d be annoyed or insulted by it. He just wanted to find some way to help, and to perhaps comfort and reassure a bit.

“I’m really sorry. If I’d known what she was going to say I would’ve had her outside to talk.”

Logan didn’t respond at all.

Thomas tried giving a rather wry smile, but it fell a bit flat.

“If you’d come out of this stall, Virgil, it’d be easier for me to brush you,” Thomas said, turning and going back to the closet to get a curry comb.

Virgil was standing in his own stall when Thomas came back out, and he was standing stiffly, his eyes darting around a bit, though he turned his head away to make it less obvious. Thomas wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he didn’t blame him. He felt antsy and jittery himself, and just wanted to get done and get home.

But as he entered the stall Virgil stepped away from him. “I’m sorry. F-for earlier. I-I didn’t mean to—“

“It’s alright,” Thomas said, raising the brush. “Just stand still now and we’ll be good.”

Virgil flinched back and away, holding his arms close to his chest, a wide-eyed scared look on his face. It finally registered to Thomas that something more was wrong than just fading adrenaline.

“Virgil, I’m tired and kinda crashing, it’s making me kind of dumb, and I’m gonna need you to communicate here with me, ok? What’s wrong?”

Virgil’s eyes flicked to the curry comb, but he didn’t say anything. A tremor started and ran over his body.

Patton came to the rescue, leaning over the walls.

“Virgil doesn’t like that brush.”

Thomas frowned down at the innocent curry comb. “It’s no worse than any other brush, Virgil.”

“It hurts! Especially when you’re mad or tired.” Virgil blurted out, shutting his mouth immediately after as if he’d said something bad.

The only way this kind of brush would hurt was if it was practically slapped against…. who was Thomas kidding, with the rampant abuse, it was incredibly likely that exactly that had happened.

“It wouldn’t hurt if it’s done properly,” Thomas promised. “Would you let me try? If it hurts you I promise I’ll go back and get your favorite one instead.”

“You promise?”

Thomas nodded firmly. “I promise.”

Virgil shook his head, a tremor running down his whole body. “Promises break.”

Thomas thought about it for a minute, and then went out and grabbed a lead rope, tying one end around his wrist.

“Do you trust Patton? The whole time I’m brushing you he can hold the other end of this rope, and the instant it hurts you he can pull my hand back.”

Virgil looked to Patton, who seemed more than a little nervous about the idea, but still nodded and accepted the end of the rope.

“O-ok.”

Thomas gently set the brush against Virgil’s side, waiting for the flinch and shiver to die down a little before he moved the brush at all. Virgil was all covered in sweat, and Thomas tried to move just right to get it off without moving too quickly and startling him.

He was a little surprised, but also a little not, that by the time he’d finished one side Virgil was relaxing into it. It must feel good to finally reach through all the hair and get properly brushed, and to get really clean.

He’d just wanted to get home a bit ago, but this was more important. It wasn’t just brushing down a centaur, it was getting Virgil to trust him, to trust brushes. It was healthy for Virgil’s coat too. And probably it was helping relax a lot of stressors for him. He needed it, far more that Thomas needed to get home. So he took his time, did it the best way, which also happened to take a long time.

And once he was done Virgil was so relaxed his eyes were drifting shut.

“There. You did very well, Virgil. And thank you for helping, Patton.”

Patton smiled and yawned. “You’re welcome, Thomas.”

“I’ll probably head home now. Is there anything else any of you need?”

“It’s nearly midnight,” Logan said, startling Thomas by speaking.

“Yes?”

Logan just gave a small nod, as if that meant something to him. “Thank you.”

Thomas nodded. “You’re welcome.”

He closed stall doors and turned off all the lights but one, finally leaving. When he got home, for some reason, he didn’t go into the house, he went into the stable. Only barely awake, he dropped onto the hay next to where Emile was stretched out, laying prone.

“Thomas?”

Thomas gave a weak grunt in acknowledgement before falling asleep.

[fallenhero-rebirth]

Game design thoughts

There’s been some discussion of game design on the CoG forums lately, and I wanted to take the opportunity to repost them here.

On death in choicescript games.

I think for me, the important thing to think about what purpose death would serve in a game, and the effects it would have on the player.

For example, deaths near the end might have the purpose of capping the story in a satisfactory way, and would usually be the sum of many earlier choices that led you down this path. It might be a good ending or a bad one, but the important thing is that it is one ending among others. The consequences are great since it’s at the end of the story and you might not want to replay, but it also gives closure to the path you took if done right.

On the other hand, deaths close to the start might have the purpose of showing the player that they can’t get away with being completely stupid, and that they need to think before they act. This might be a good thing with low stakes, since it easy to restart, and these kinds of deaths are often of the more jokey variant. On the other hand, it might also make people nervous and risk averse, and lead to a lot more gamey approach to the story than might otherwise have been the case.

The hardest ones to get right in my opinion are the middle ones. Too little time has passed to get a proper closure in the story, and at the same time, there’s a lot of things to reread, and you can’t just click through because you need to figure out how not to die again. This can have a really bad effect on the story if not implemented right, making the player think that there’s only a few right ways to play the game and they need to decipher the right one in order to survive. If the death is due to many earlier choices that can lead to frustration if it happens again, and if it’s down to a single failed stat check it might lead to the next run being character minmaxing rather than just playing organically.

Death can have a place in these games, but all too often it feels like the consequences of death on the actual gameplay is not fully understood by the authors

Fallen Hero game rules.

I hadn’t really played many choicescript games when I decided to make my own, but I grew up on choose your own adventure books, with all their limitations. The thing that intrigued me with choicescript was that all those limitations disappeared once you did it online. After deciding which of my possible stories to work on (wasn’t easy and took research), I needed to sit down and make a design document to try to figure out what I needed to focus on.

My goal was to write interactive fiction, not a game. That was the first choice, and it informed the others. That being said, I still needed rules to help me focus.

Trust. This was the first rule. I needed to build trust in the reader, and make them realize that there would be no game over in this book, no way to fail so badly you couldn’t get back from it. The only reason you would make a choice should be that it felt right for your character, and you wanted to see what happened. Not because you feared screwing up everything by failing.

Immersion. The second rule, and the thing that influenced my stats and flags. They should be there to help immersion, to enable me to to callbacks to earlier events, and to tailor text to the reader. While there’s an unusually fixed protagonist in Fallen Hero, I wanted variability in how they were presented. While things like cautious/daring influences success in certain fights, that’s actually a secondary function. Instead of trying to artificially have a stat chance with every choice to make it ‘matter’, I embraced the thought that the changing text itself did matter enough.

Consequence. That being said, I wanted there to be tension and nervousness, which meant that there needed to be consequence. This was tricky, especially over three books where a lot of the consequences won’t come until later in the series. We’ll see if I manage to juggle this in a good way. Writing fail states is a lot of fun though… and we’ll see the first big consequences of your choices so far towards the end of book two.

No lock-in. One thing I really wanted to avoid, even though it would have saved me so much work, was to lock people into certain paths. There’s no point in which a RO becomes locked in for good, and at the same time you don’t get locked out if you didn’t start a romance at a certain point… Same with your motivation, it can change over the series, as your character changes. Probably the hardest thing for me to balance, and as the series progress, it just becomes more complex. Still, not backing down in this one, it’s important.

Secrecy. One way I picked to help me heighten tension was to keep secrets from the reader, even though they played the main characters. What exactly did happen in the past? Do people suspect you? What is going on in the background? What really happened in the Heartbreak Incident? There’s a lot of things the reader doesn’t know, and one way of finding the clues is by replaying the story with different choices and characters. This is a mystery book, but the main mystery is your own character, and if you want to try to work it out you need to go looking. It was important for me to play fair as well, all the clues are there, in front of you, but it’s only when you’ve reached a new point of understanding that you can go back and see OF COURSE it was there all along. I wanted people to think DUH when something was revealed, not because of confusion, but because they realized that they should have suspected all along. I worked really hard on planting Chekhov’s gun in the text, and at the same time have the reader not realize it’s right there on the table until it’s fired. Which leads into the last part…

Community. This I did NOT know if was going to work or not, and I am so grateful it did, and it had nothing to do with me. In order for many of the things above to come to full fruition, like the secrecy, or the trust, I wanted readers to talk to each other. I wanted them to share characters and theories, so that even if they only played their one character along their single canon path, they’d get a feel for all the other things that were out there. Shared information is a powerful tool, and I could only give some hints to the options (through achievements), but by having people share and gossip and theorize, the story became so much greater than their single paths. That was the reason why I’ve been trying to reblog every single piece of fanart/content I can find on tumblr (not so easy since tumblr is finicky), to connect people and get them to meet each other, and see and share content. I am very grateful that people took it upon themselves to create a discord, because that’s a level of tech that just makes me go… yeeeeah nope. I’m old.

…

So, these rules are a lot looser than they would have been if I had made a more gamey game (one day I will, game system construction is AWESOME and I see so many possibilities in choicescript), but they still informed everything I did. I had an inventory system at the start, for example, that got cut because it didn’t add to any of the points above. I added three RO’s to book two because it did add to point 2, 3 and 4. I have a lot of minor things I am considering adding because it helps point 2 (like facial hair, height).

[mikaa-mina]

Ch 11- At Garden’s Edge : A Newt, some gremlins, and a Boston Fern walk into an IT business...

He’d been too distracted lately. Too distracted by soft cashmere sweaters he couldn’t let go of or return, too distracted by plays and books and AlwaysWinter with Anathema. Too distracted by far and now the Dowlings’ party was this weekend and Crowley still wasn’t sure how he was going to be in two places at once.

Bloody catering... He had a shop to run, he couldn’t just be going off willy-nilly to hand deliver and set up the flower arrangements for a bloody socialite party. But he’d agreed. Because he could use the money. And because Warlock had cared enough to engineer it to happen, the little hellion.

So here he was, taking an early lunch because he was too anxious to keep his hands steady, and as well as the plants had been behaving lately he didn’t want to accidentally bend something. So. Caffeine. Caffeine might steady his nerves- his hands- both.

He’s halfway to Knead to Know when the glass door to his immediate left flings open and nearly clips Crowley straight in the head. It’s the work of a moment to twist out of the way, cursing all the while at the oblivious arsehole, only to finally look up and see-

“Lost Boy!”

There’s those nervous eyes, the shuffle from foot to foot as he apologizes for nearly bowling Crowley over and then the hesitant, “uh, actually, it’s Newton.”

“Right, right,” he’s waving it away carelessly because he’s just taken notice of the box of shame Newton’s holding. Or rather, the extremely delicate and hard to keep alive Boston Fern that’s nestled in with the various office supplies shoved into the ‘just got job dumped’ box. “Whatever, listen. Is that yours?” He’s pointing at the flower, mind whirling, gears turning.

“Uh. Yes?”

“Psssh. It’s either yours or itsn’t. Which is it?”

“It’s mine. Turpin’s my duck.”

Crowley blinked. No the Boston Fern was definitely still a Boston Fern. “...your wut?”

“Oh, uh,” he shifted again, the contents of his box rattling but the plant, apparently named Turpin, staying steady despite it all, “see, in IT there’s this thing where you have a rubber duck on your desk and you talk to it when you’re stuck on a problem and it helps you figure it out.”

Dubiously, “Right.... Listen.”

“...yeah?”

“You sacked?”

Immediately Newt’s shoulders hunched up and his mouth opened to either deny or affirm it but Crowley’s mind is on a fast track one track train and his mouth bowls them both over before he’s quite thought anything through. “Did you care for the plant yourself?”

“‘Course.”

He seemed confident. Crowley narrowed his eyes at him.

“What kind of soil does it need?”

“Loamy. Though you really need to make sure it’s got good drainage, are you-“

“How much water?”

Bewildered Newt answered again, “Well the root ball needs to stay moist at all times but if it’s not in a humid environment you’ll need to mist it a fair bit. Why? Are you looking to get one? They’re a bit finicky but if you read up on them I’m sure you’d get the hang of it.”

Crowley stared at him. Thought about it. Decided to not think about it.

“Oh what the hell. Want a job Lost Boy?”

“Uh.”

Feeling like the boy was panicking for no reason Crowley went on to explain, gesticulating the whole while, “look, you’ve obviously been sacked and I need someone to mind the shop while I’m out with deliveries. Or you can do the deliveries.” He shrugged, “either way. Easy stuff. Plant shop.”

“I, uh, really prefer to do computer based jobs- I mean, I went into Computer Sciences so I could-“

“I’ve got a smart cash register and those white cube buggers that you put on your phone to let people pay through. That’s techy. C’mon, s’not like you’ve got anything better going on. No job, probably lots of bills to pay, why not work for me till your dream job rolls around?”

“Uh, well, I-“

“Fantastic!” Crowley grinned, shook Newt’s hand, shoved a business card into that very same hand, and rattled off, “the address is on here. See you tomorrow at 10am sharp. I have a delivery at 11 and we’ll cover the plant rules and schedules then.”

“I- okay??”

“Great! See you tomorrow Lost Boy.”

“I prefer Newt, actually, Mr. Crowley.”

“Right. Newt. Huh, I’m surprised you remembered my name. Rubbish at names, me.”

Newt gave a faint smile as if he figured that before explaining, “just handy with names, I suppose.”

“And plant care?”

“Oh, well. I’ve got a photographic memory. Really helps with that sort of thing.”

Crowley’s eyebrows raised, intrigued and already planning, “oh do you now?”

-

Thursday arrived bright at 10am with a befuddled Newton who still wasn’t, 100%, sure how exactly he had ended up agreeing to a job. Or how he’d been offered it at all.

There were rules, regulations (for Newt and the plants), and a whirlwind of information. By 11 he’d shorted out the cash register twice, brought down the electronic doorbell three times, and took out some other electrical device once (that Crowley swore at but wouldn’t tell Newt just what it was). So he was, rather emphatically, pushed out the door to do the 11am delivery while Crowley did damage control.

Newt didn’t really think there was a delivery for 11am, otherwise why would he be leaving at 11 and not before to be able to arrive at 11, but figured maybe Mr. Crowley was testing him or just really really wanted to get him out of the shop.

-

Sometimes Newt thinks his life seems like the set up of a bar joke. Or any joke really. 

It’s probably why when he walks into the shop he’s supposed to deliver the flower arrangement to, he’s not particularly surprised that it’s an occult shop. 

It’s a little startling that the woman behind the counter already has her eyes on his before he’s even walked in through the door, but maybe that was just luck. (Maybe there’s a security camera she saw him coming on like Mr. Crowley has.)

But no, he’s not that lucky. The next words out of her mouth startle him into nearly turning right back around and leaving. If it weren’t for how terrifyingly beautiful she was.

“Uh, I- sorry?” He tries, not because he didn’t hear her, but more of because he’s always been terribly bad with beautiful women, and she’s awfully striking. His tongue feels too large and clumsy, his hands feel a bit clammy, and honestly he’s just glad that he’s still got a good grip on the pot he’s holding. Also, he’s pretty sure he’s forgotten entirely what she’s said.

Her hair is dark and curly, and her cheeks hit the bottom of the lenses of her glasses when she smiles at him. He’s startled by her brisk “Nevermind that!” and clap of her hands, she stands from the counter, coming around it in a flurry of skirts, “now, would you prefer a palm reading or a tarot card reading?”

“Uh.”

Her smile widened. “Tarot card reading it is.”

That was probably for the best as his hands had already started sweating and honestly he was feeling a bit concerned for the pot he was still holding- the pot!

“Oh! These are for you- uh, wait, you’re Anathema right?”

“I am, and thank you for the flowers Newton.”

“They’re from Mr. Crowley, actually, and, wait- how did you know my name?”

She winked at him! “Witches never reveal their secrets.” And then she was turning away again, skirts swishing as she took the pot over to the front counter. (when did she take it from him??) She set it up in the far right corner where she’d be able to see it but still have it out of the way and then gestured him to follow her back through a curtain.

“I really don’t think I should- I mean, I’m still working and all and-”

“Just tell him that I kept you,” she answered breezily as she held the curtain open for him, “he’ll probably take pity on you actually,” she herded him towards a cushy stool and then seated herself at an identical one across a small round table from him.

“Alright, let’s see what we’re working with here.”

And that’s how he found himself getting a Tarot Card Reading done for him by the oddest american he’d yet met, and totally unsurprised at not knowing how he ended up here. And then, as was typical of a poorly done bar joke, Crowley barged in (as well as one could when the door was a curtain and not an actual wooden door).

“Bloody hell, I should have figured you’d steal the poor guy.”

“Stealing’s a strong word,” Anathema replied, chin settling in her palm, elbow planted squarely between Newt’s present and future cards. “After all, you’re the one who gave him to me.”

Newt felt he ought to say something about not being a thing but Crowley was already spluttering and objecting.

“Gave? Gave? Ana I sent him to make a delivery! Of which, you were supposed to send him back after he’d done his job.” Crowley blinked, swiveled to look at Newt and arched an eyebrow over dark sunglasses, “you did deliver the arrangement...”

Before Newt could even respond Anathema butted in again, “of course he delivered the flowers you menace! He’s a full grown adult, he can be trusted to do what he’s supposed to.”

“Oh really now? Because as I recall you were supposed to text me when he arrived.”

Anathema rolled her eyes, “oh please, I know you’re a worrywart about your babies-”

“-My what?!-”

“-but no one’s going to accidentally kill them-”

“’Won’t accidentally’- Do you not remember-”

Well. At least that cleared up how she knew he was coming and his name. For a moment there he was afraid he might be in danger of accidentally offending an actual witch. He had enough going on in his life without being cursed on top of it thank you.

“Oh please, that was one time-”

“Four! It was four times!!”

“Oh my god… I can’t believe you’re still upset about-”

Words dissolved into consonants and spluttering and Newt wasn’t sure if it would be better to stick around or sneak back out through the curtain.

Actually, “uh, sorry, excuse me but- if you’re here Mr. Crowley, who’s watching the shop?”

“No one. Because this” pointed glare “witch wouldn’t answer any of my texts.”

“Oh quit complaining you dramatic baby-”

“Oi! I had to make sure you hadn’t taken him to be one of your witchy ingredients now-”

Newt startled, “wait- uh-”

“He’s joking,” Anathema stated rather firmly and not all that convincingly before leveling a glare at Crowley, “Isn’t he?”

Crowley sent Newt a sideways glance and an entirely too concerning shrug before unconvincingly saying “suuuure. Probably.”

“Crowley!!”

[fuwafuwamedb]

Dodging Death Pt 10 (CasGil, Cu Chulainn, Proto Cu, Hakuno)

Previously: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 , 6, 7, 8, 9

___

Policemen.

The erroneous guards of this land’s and time’s people, riding upon metal wagons with the very essence of the skies and fires upon their roofs. They road out attired in uniform, much like his own guards and, much like his own guards in his own time, they were commendable enough in their treatment after shocks.

He would allow them that, alongside forgiveness for their lateness to this affair.

The first thing he needed was a place for Hakuno while he spoke to the guards.

What he opted for was her vehicle.

They walked around it once, checking the interior before he opened the passenger door like she would do when she was placing him inside for trips. His lips pressed gently to her forehead. He used the safety clasp to secure her into the seat before looking around again.

“Are you making sure they aren’t here?” she asked.

‘They’ was polite.

He wouldn’t have referenced the stranger that had attacked them so calmly. If this were Uruk, if they were in his home, then there wouldn’t have been any escaping on the fool’s part. The moment they would have entered, he would have had them slaughtered.

The fool would never have placed an axe through his door. They never would have ruined the peace and the intimacy that he had held with Hakuno.

She melted in his arms and she was his.

“I will be a moment only,” he promised, seeing that no one was near enough to do her harm.

Her hand still found his arm, holding him in place.

“I need to speak to the policemen,” he told her, pressing his lips to hers lightly. There was a tremor in her hands and a fire in those eyes. Every bit of her attention was hyper-focused on him.

He needed her like this in his bed and for different reasons.

Siduri would have been so boastful at someone trusting him so completely with such an expression on their face.

“Stay with me,” Hakuno whispered.

“I am going to take you somewhere where no one will be able to do that again,” he vowed. “Did I not tell you that you are my betrothed?”

He closed more of the space between them, kissing her soundly and stealing the air from her body. Those hands were holding him until they were ghostly white. Her eyes were closing, but a wetness was coming to her lashes.

Shock was setting in. He couldn’t have that.

“Do you think every fool could have protected us as you did?” He asked of her, stroking at her hair now. He pulled back enough to let her breathe properly, enough but not so much that he couldn’t press his forehead to hers. “Any other person in this world, and I have met many, would have had me open that door. Either to fight or to find the source of the noise; they would have put me in harm’s way.”

“They broke in.”

“They did, but you had me stay with you. You trusted me to protect you until the guards could come.”

She nodded, but she was still shaking. She needed more.

He pulled open the gates, yanking a blanket from the depths of the treasury and wrapping it tightly around the woman. His lips pressed to hers again, trying to ease her further into the depths of comfort.

The woman didn’t know how to take pleasure in things.

She had disliked him from their first encounter. Their second, thus far, was riddled with fatigued thinking, anxieties on her part, and violence.

It wasn’t like he could rely on the gods to assist him in this endeavor of courtship though. Ishtar and Ereshkigal were both after him, wholly prepared to drag him to the depths of Kur. Many of the other gods had fallen out of favor, having gone against him in the case of Enkidu. Even Ishtar’s sibling, the twin fool who rode his barge across the skies to illuminate all worlds, was useless.

Yes, like all else in his life, he had to grasp what was his with his two hands and his wit.

Hakuno leaned against his chest, her eyes closing as she requested again for him to remain with her. She laced their fingers together, holding his hand to her person.

Vulnerability had bloomed.

The fool who had done this would pay dearly for their removal of her initial comfort and confidence.

Still, he had done his work. Hakuno drifted to sleep right there under the comfort of the blanket and his presence. He found himself looking at the round reins of the metal wagon and to the police nearby.

“Do you both have somewhere to go?” One of the policemen asked, stepping away as the others worked.

“To go?”

“A hotel? A friend’s home?”

A friend’s home wouldn’t be private. His courtship required intimacy that could only be found when two had their peace and personal time. Even with the wisdom of the blue haired fool, he had no desire to see the living quarters of the woman’s friends.

Hotel was another of those strange words…

He knew it from somewhere…

Right!

Hakuno’s crime dramas had shown them before. Extravagant, private rooms; they were much like the inns and the travelers’ resting buildings that he had in his time.

“What hotel would be the nicest?”

“It depends on your budget. They can be expensive,” the officer replied.

Yes, but he was a king.

He closed the door to the car and told the man to remain for a few moments.

A number of the other fools returned into the building, allowing him to look through the house for Hakuno’s things.

They watched. Understandably, since they were unaware of the situation and would no doubt be bringing the dust and the super computers of theirs into this place soon enough. He almost desired the chance to watch the live investigation at work, but his curiosity would need to remain unsatisfied.

He pulled the nicer dresses from Hakuno’s closet; a few of those tiny garments from her drawers. The computer was required. He quite liked the wisdom that could be found within. She was finicky about her mouth brush, for whatever reason that was. She had a strange polish for her teeth that left her mouth smelling odd when he had been a cat.

The hairdryer was not being abandoned.

Soaps and oils were meager. He left those.

Enough of that stuff was in his gates.

“All set?”

He nodded, grabbing Hakuno’s bags and purse.

And then, they were heading out. He sat in the back of the wagon this time, keeping an eye on his woman as the policeman drove them through the black paths, turning here and there at brightly illuminated squares. The buildings rose steadily higher and higher, each of the buildings looking more precarious than the last.

This world knows nothing of architecture.

An earth tremor would have these buildings toppling down. As would a magic blast, he thought warily, watching them drive into a rather bold looking place.

“This place is the best,” the policeman informed him. “Expensive, but if you’re just staying tonight…”

He nodded.

They would stay a while, until he could take Hakuno to his home, but the man didn’t need to be informed of that.

“The front desk will handle your card information and get you a room key.”

Again, wisdom from rather loyal looking fools. He could almost appreciate the fact that mankind had not changed too greatly from his time.

Almost, but now was not the time.

He carried Hakuno and her purse while the policeman made her car give that familiar loud honk noise and carried the rest.

The front desk woman wanted a ‘credit card’.

He found himself once more instilled with this time’s wisdom as his woman slumbered.

Credit cards were a method of payment. The woman at the counter eagerly chatted about the business of cards and banks for a moment as she swiped the card. He found Hakuno’s first card was unsuccessful, but, as so many did for him before, the woman saw him smile a bit and faltered. She stuttered through trying again by discussing the process of banks with him.

“Sometimes they can be a bit stubborn.”

A servant of the hotel took over carrying Hakuno’s things and the policeman went out the front doors to return to his noble work of finding that fiend.

The room, that they rode up a small room to reach, was up to standards. It was not quite his chambers in Uruk, but the gold adornments here and there and the fine looking tub that was three times the size of Hakuno’s would suffice for a while.

“The hot tub is scrubbed clean between each guest,” the servant informed him. “We’ve taken the liberty of putting a 5000 yen credit for the room service onto your account, as apologies for the inconvenience at the front counter with your cards.”

The man set Hakuno’s bags upon their own foldable stand, giving them almost more presentation than they were worth. He moved to the strange cellphone with a cord, lifting it and holding up a small book near it.

“Our menus are amongst the best in Fuyuki and our chefs are from Tokyo. You merely need to let them know your room number and what you would like and they’ll take payment from your account.”

Excellent.

It meant that Hakuno would not be required to fend for herself.

Gilgamesh moved forward, pulling some of the money he had seen some of the others hand these people from the audience area and front counter of this place.

“That will be all for now,” he told the man. “Your service has been exceptional and your mannerisms are both unintrusive and informative. Take great pride in your work. I have benefited immensely.”

“…y-you really mean to give me this much?”

He nodded, earning a glowing smile from the man.

“Anything you need, Mister… uh…”

“Gilgamesh.”

The man beamed, holding out a hand. “Any time you need somethin’. Proto Cu.”

The boy looked a great deal like the blue haired fool Hakuno was friends with. No doubt they were related somehow.

He let his servant leave before placing Hakuno into bed and looking around at his new scenery.

She seemed down for the count for the time being. The woman would probably find herself horribly inconvenienced by missing her classes once more.

That would be his first goal then: contact that blue haired fool and inform him of the situation.

Contact brought the fool to the hotel, having him running into the room and needing to be carefully shut up before he awakened Hakuno from her slumber.

“What are you guys gonna do? You can’t afford here on Hakuno’s pay.”

“Will the cards not do?”

Cu Chulainn almost laughed. “Life ain’t that nice, Gilgamesh.”

He opened the gates behind the long seating he was upon, motioning for the man to look. “Can we not add my own wealth to her accounts?”

The man gawked, once more needing a good few hits to remember that silence was the key for his continued ability to visit.

“This much money would end up letting you buy the damn hotel!”

“Silence!”

“Geez, Gilgamesh.” Cu ran a hand through his hair. “What shit did you carry this up with? We’ll carry it out as quietly as we can and deposit it into a bank account. You ever do that here?”

“I lack certain things here.”

The man shrugged. “I know an idiot that does fake IDs if you want one for now. You’ll need your real shit for doing home overseas, but… Yeah, the dude’ll definitely help for just a small gem from this stack.”

They worked carefully, with him having the fool check his phone often in case Hakuno awakened.

He had identification soon enough. His own cards soon after.

They stopped for what the other deemed as “normal looking clothes” for him, leaving him to glance towards the women’s attire nearby.

“I can’t believe you guys got attacked by a damn axe murderer,” Cu informed him for the fourteenth time this trip. “That’s just insane. You don’t think the fool was after you, do you?”

“There is no reason for that to be the case.”

He would find out who had done this the moment that the fingerprints in Hakuno’s home came up with a perfect match on the police computers. That was how they resolved their publicized work on the television, after all.

They spent much of the afternoon together, with the fool showing him how to use the transport in this town.

The card of money in his hand was immaculate, a nice golden color that suited him. It seemed like his tomes and his own axe: capable of giving him whatever he pleased. The amount of opportunity the thing afforded him was simply astounding, but he reserved his attentions to requirements.

Garments for himself and Hakuno were important.

The hotel was changed to his card, since Cu Chulainn had pointed out the difference in his golden card compared to Hakuno’s meager one that encountered problems.

He ordered food, taken Hakuno with him to bathe her once more with his own oils and soaps, and then he had begun booting up the computer tablet that he had acquired while he was out.

Through it, he investigated this world as his woman continued to slumber.

The humans had become quite imaginative. They had seen the faults of their lifetimes, seen the end of the dreams and aspirations in the future and had decided to preserve their intellect upon this ‘internet’ realm.

The metal wagons- cars- came in varieties with varying amenities.

The televisions could be altered.

Anything in this world could be altered, it seemed.

He found himself delving into the mysteries of why the humans would choose such poor building designs rather than solid structures like his ziggurats for great heights like their penthouse hotel room. He found himself delving deeper and deeper into the structures and materials for such creations when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

She moved to sit up slowly, looking around at the room in a daze.

The nightgown he had placed her in hugged to her a little more as she twisted to look around at the room a little more. Her sleepy blank face seemed to only look around more and more, her brows furrowing until he moved to stand.

“Are you waking up finally?”

She turned to him, releasing a large yawn like one of his lionesses from back home.

Ah, but had there ever been a more dangerous being in this world than a beautiful woman?

Gilgamesh found himself moving across the room, setting his tablet onto the bed a moment before he was sealing her lips with his own. His hands tangled into her hair. His head tilted to deepen their embrace. Her hands were grasping his button up, a soft sound escaped her.

“I had assumed that you would rest for the night as well,” he murmured to her.

“Where are we?”

“A hotel room.”

She looked around again, her eyes dropping to the tablet and his clothes.

“I have acquired a few things since you were last awake.” He pulled the leather packet from his pocket and held it up for her to look at. “Since I have searched through your things and you are knowledgeable in this world’s things, I shall permit you to peruse through my handiwork.”

Her frown was still there, marring that face of hers before she looked through his findings.

“…You took my last name?”

“I have none. I had no need to create one either, since it would mean that you would surrender yours upon our marriage.”

Those brown eyes flickered to his gaze a moment before she pulled out the bank slip. Those eyes bugged out.

“…W-was there a mistake?!”

“Hmm?” He looked over the paper, seeing the numbers, “no. They are accurate. Your reaction is similar to the blue haired fool’s.”

“Cu?”

“Yes, he was the same way.”

“You went out with Cu Chulainn?”

“He was informing me about-“

A knock at the door brought him to a pause. It was no doubt the food that had arrived. They had once more seen to the standards that he had for the place.

The little one Proto was walking in now, grinning as he gave a wave from his cart.

“I brought dinner!” He announced happily. “My brother said to call him again if you find you want to do more shit together, Mr. Kishinami!”

He gave the man money once again, earning a frown from Hakuno.

“This guy is a keeper, Hakuno,” Proto told her. “You wouldn’t believe the praise he heaped on me to the front desk.”

“You earned your praise.”

The boy seemed to almost radiate joy from that news. Had he been a hound, his tail would have wagged incessantly. It still took a moment before he could get the other out, listening to Proto chatter happily to Hakuno about him.

Praise was good, but he needed Hakuno’s, not the boy’s own.

The boy was too similar to his sibling for his taste.

“How,” Hakuno asked of him.

“How what, Hakuno?”

She motioned to the room, her face bemused. “This whole room… the food… You were a cat.”

“And before that, I was a king.”

He moved to bring the cart over to the bedside, climbing onto the blankets to join his woman once more. Since she had awakened, this was an excellent time for them to finally speak to one another. The food would distract from their amorous activities and would allow them to keep their hands to themselves. Her desire for answers would help further with this goal.

“I merely gave them some trinkets I had been gifted from Nippur and the fools gave me enough wealth that my earnings had to be split between several of the money holders of this world. Your friend enjoyed receiving one of those gems for his woman as well.”

“You let Cu have a gem for Rin?”

“She will enjoy it, won’t she?”

The woman sighed, running a hand through her hair and nodding. “She’ll probably wear it all the time or flaunt it at dates with Cu.”

So, she was much like Ishtar when it came to jewels. The unfortunate soul. It was a good thing she had Cu Chulainn to temper her from acting like the useless goddess.

“You have money and everything,” Hakuno informed him, shaking her head a little. “You don’t really need me anymore, do you?”

The statement was so abrupt, so out of the blue; he had to stare at her a moment to process that she had truly said something like that.

He swallowed the spoonful of food that he’d taken before answering her.

“You are the only one in this world whom I have found worthy.”

“You could get anyone with your wealth.”

Yes, with wealth.

He had plenty of bought and negotiated women though, didn’t he? Bought and Bartered women had no value to him. Their spirits had been whittled down to the essence of greed and the remains of what fear had created. There was no loyalty that could be bought from them, no devotion and selflessness.

They would not risk themselves for a cat.

He pulled her hand into his own, kissing at her wrist a moment before he looked to her.

“Hakuno, my identification and the one I had created for you both state that you are mine. Even if they did not, I have no trust in the words of mongrels. Did you not listen to me before?”

She opened her mouth, but he moved closer, pressing his lips to hers lightly.

“Allow me to only state this once more since you seem to be in need of reminder: I intend to teach you magic, to teach you further about the intimacies of our bodies, and then I intend to take you home with me to be my wife. It is simply a matter of me remembering the spell I used to get here that will return us home.”

“We’d tear space apart, wouldn’t we? You can’t have people outside of their time.”

He had to laugh at that, watching her scowl at him.

What a fool.

“I hold the weapons of creation within my gates,” he told her simply, opening the gates to let her see into their depths. “There is no limitations that can keep me from having you at my side, Hakuno Kishinami, the choice lies solely in your hands.”

She hesitated.

Perhaps he had gotten ahead of himself.

The woman was smart. She was not the strongest magic, but he could easily improve her mana and her craft with some practice. Her attraction to him was evident, since she had surrendered to his ministrations twice now.

Naming himself on her behalf had been reward for her surrenderings.

However, she seemed more on edge than she had upon awakening in a strange room.

What would Siduri recommend at this time?

His attendant was good for bouncing ideas from. Her simple phrases of ‘you know what is best’ and ‘think what would benefit Uruk best’ had always been a great method of insight gathering.

And, like that, Siduri’s aid had given him the help he needed. Her mere memory in his mind gave him what he needed.

“Hakuno,” he addressed, standing up and fixing his shirt. “I have no intention of practicing this world’s customs for courtship. They are absurd and unclear from what I have seen.”

She stared at him as he held out his hand.

“I will have you remain at my side. No wives unless you wish for them. You’ve proven yourself to be as invaluable as my lost friend, as insightful as my team of advisors, and as humble as the goddess Ninsun herself. I intend to keep you, pull you into my bed, and show you the universe itself.”

“Not as a cat?”

He laughed the sound echoing the room, “human only.”

She looked at his hand before glancing to him.

“If you accept, there will be no going back. I intend to use the full extent of this world and my own’s wealth to drown you in the pleasure you seem to avoid in your life. I intend to take your body until the very essence of my being is engraved upon your spirit. Ereshkigal and the gods all will see it as clear and as bright as the sun itself.”

A pink color was tinging her cheeks. “…and if I don’t?”

“Then I’m courting you, but returning alone. You will return to your day to day as before. Whether or not things are resolved here are out of my hands. Your policemen will have to care for that.”

There was thought.

She didn’t take his hand immediately, opting to look at his hand and allow herself to make the informed decision. He could tell only that she was doing this with sound mind, something he could appreciate considering the fate of those who had come before her. His wives had all been cast away before, with Siduri giving him complaints about it.

She had no assurances about his world.

He had no proof he could give her other than his word.

It was a matter of whether she trusted him or not, whether she felt him worthy of what he had seen as a logical mindset.

Her hand moved to take his.

Gilgamesh all but purred at the confirmation of her interest in him.

“What about that axe killer?”

“We’ll be safe here.”

They would be safe until the moment they were back in Uruk.

Then, she could forget the dangers of those invading her home. Her only goals would be to see to the people and to him. 

He would sleep soundly with a woman like her pulling him into her arms.

[dingoat]

FOR AHUSKA, Uncommon Questions: 1, 3, 5, 12, 17, 19, 21, 23, 25, 28, 29. FOR FIVE: 1, 6, 9, 11, 12, 15, 17, 19, 21, 25, 28.

WELL NOW :D *cracks knuckles*

PREPARE YOURSELF FOR A RIDE

For THE BEST GIRL, with bonus notes when there are werewolf variations:

1.  What position does your character sleep in? ( i.e; stomach, side, back, etc. ) Describe why they do this — optional. Almost always on her side, generally slightly curled up. It’s a very accommodating position to have animals snuggled up against her or on top of her, and also very accommodating of having another person there too (she’s just as happy being the big spoon or the little spoon). Sometimes when she needs to sprawl, she’ll fall asleep on her back, but will always wind up on her side again come morning.

(Except when she’s a wolf. Wolf sleeps as a lovely wolf-ball.)

3.  Does your character have an accent? What does it sound like?

Ahaaa! Answered already here! :D

5. What are their chief tension areas?

Uhmmmm several, I think, if I’m understanding the question right! Forehead, jaw, shoulders - from stress. Lower back, from hard physical work. Wrist, from drawing. Her wrist and back are the areas she actually pays attention to and takes measures to ease, and just saying even though she can be a little finicky about who is allowed to actually touch her, a good neck/shoulder massage is a pretty reliable way to win her over.

12. Describe 5 unusual characteristics your muse has.

Covered here! Though of course I could add that in werewolf au she has the incredibly unusual characterstic of being a werewolf. 

17.  Is your character an introvert or an extrovert? How do they handle big crowds of people?

She is an introvert, and in general doesn’t like to spend too much time in large crowds. She’ll never be truly comfortable on big city planets, though a crowd that she can just vanish into is vastly preferable to a smaller crowd that is paying attention to her. Too many eyes on her can be debilitating and she’ll never perform as well as when she’s amongst a trusted circle, but when she’s in a group that she’s comfortable with she can be incredibly lively, bubbly and cheeky. Only a very small select few individuals could be around her without impacting her solo recharge time.

19.  If your character was suddenly challenged, would they rather run away or stay and fight?

Ooooof, this definitely depends on what form the challenge/r takes. Once was she might have gone to great lengths to avoid getting into a physical fight, but that has definitely changed and she is much quicker to rise to a challenge these days. Her preference would be to stick around and prove herself/make the challenging party eat their words, but she’s not an idiot and isn’t built on bravado; she’s definitely not too proud to make a tactical retreat if her life or limbs seem genuinely at stake. (That said, if it is somebody else’s life at stake, she’ll throw all caution to the wind if she values that somebody above herself. And despite appearances, she actually knows how to fight dirty to great effect.)

Werewolf Ahuska would stand and fight longer, and harder, and against greater challengers, but at the end of the day she will still run when it calls for it- unless she has engaged in berserk mode. Then there is no backing down, and she hasn’t been beaten yet.

21.  Your character has been granted 3 wishes; what would they wish for and why?

This one has been asked and answered here, in terms of current-timeline-regular-story Ahuska. But for current timeline WEREWOLF, her wishes are definitely different!

1. To no longer be hunted by anyone2. Fulfilment of #1 might acutally go a long way towards fulfilling this one, but just in case she’d wish for no more impossible obstacles between herself and Blakk. There’s honestly a lot she might wish for regarding the two of them, especially with what she hopes and wants for Blakk himself, but it wouldn’t take a lot of soul searching for her to know that she wouldn’t want to magically skip over anything that they might be able to explore and discover and solve together in a real and meaningful way.3. To always be able to keep her memory and mind when she shapeshifts.

23.  Do they prefer romance or affection? What is the quickest way to your character’s heart?

If it HAD to be one or the other, she would most likely pick affection, because romance without affection would feel kind of empty, while affection without romance still fills her with warmth. But in all honesty she’d have a huge amount of trouble imagining one without the other and as far as Ahuska’s concerned they go hand in hand. The quickest way to her heart is to make her feel special, without a doubt. Words and acts that makes her feel desired, valued, worthwhile… all the things she has trouble seeing on her own. If someone makes her feel that with them, she can be a better version of herself… she’s gone, game over, done.

25, Do they have any weird bedroom habits? Any unusual kinks?

AHEM. Let it be said on the record that I, myself, am pretty clueless when it comes to knowing what would ACTUALLY BE WEIRD AND UNUSUAL. THAT SAID; she loves bedroom activities conducted outside of the bedroom, whether that’s out in the wilderness or right in the middle of the clan living quarters while the bosses are out or to duck away somewhere cheeky while out and about in the world. (In fact, she probably enjoys the boast factor of really random spots or getting away with it under people’s noses.) IT IS ALSO POSSIBLE that she has a startling familiarity with a lot of items that are TRADITIONALLY USED for animal husbandry purposes. Girl knows how to crack a whip and tie a knot if you know what I’m saying. >.>

28. Are they afraid of death? Do they have any regrets?

Covered this one here! But werewolf Ahuska definitely carries more regrets, even if she forces herself to acknowledge that at the time she didn’t know better and that she was acting with incomplete/inaccurate information. But she is deeply, powerfully sorry that she allowed herself to be convinced, even briefly, that Blakk had intended harm to her and her friends, and very much regrets the consequences of the time that immediately followed. She’s grateful that her wolf-self saw sense before she allowed it to get any worse, but carries huge guilt that she didn’t have the strength to make things go better, either.

29.  Does your character get restless when things are too quiet or do they favour solitude and silence? Why?

Ahuska really does need a good balance of both, and won’t tolerate either absolute silence or pumping noise and activity for very long at all. At a vibrant party she’ll need to duck away sometimes onto a balcony or into the garden; when left somewhere alone for a long stretch she’ll need to have music playing or the pets around to stop the emptiness from feeling painful. She doesn’t like too much routine or stagnation either; if she feels like she’s been doing the same thing day in day out for too long she’ll be busting at the seams to break the routine and see or do something new.

AND NOW, FOR THE WORST BOY:

1.  What position does your character sleep in? ( i.e; stomach, side, back, etc. ) Describe why they do this — optional.

Five maintains a steady rotation of back sleeping and side sleeping to maximise the benefits of both positions while trying to negate some of the negatives. While back sleeping is good for his neck and spine and helps prevent wrinkles, he’s heard that side-sleeping can help prevent brain wastage so he errs on the side of caution and makes sure to do that regularly. Probably with a skin care routine.

6.  If you were to pick one song — and only one song — to describe your character, what would it be and why?

I DO NOT KNOW enough songs about this caliber of person to answer this well but to avoid choosing a disney villain song (though honestly a blend of Gaston and Hellfire wouldn’t be terribly wrong) I’m gonna suggest that The Wolf by SIAMES has some pretty pertinent lyrics….

I’m out of my head, of my heart and my mind‘cause you can run but you can’t hide, I’m gonna make you mine….

9.  Does your character dream or are their nights filled with an empty blackness? Describe a dream they’ve had or a night they couldn’t sleep and what they did to preoccupy their time.

I’m sure he does dream, but he doesn’t remember much of them. There is one recurring nightmare that haunts him, however, and he would do anything to stop it from plaguing his sleep. There’s a good chance he’d call for Thirteen to distract him on those nights, but during times when his favourite Cipher is on mission or otherwise unavailable, it wouldn’t be unusual for Five to give up on sleep and head out into the Kaas jungles with his hunting rifle, to scream and end lives under the endless thunderstorms.

11.  What do they think of creation? Do they believe in evolution or do they believe in God? What is their religion like?

Evolution is fact and gods are for the weak. His religion is conquest, and those who waste their lives pleasing imaginary beings deserve to be conquered.

12.  Describe 5 unusual characteristics your muse has.

Only five??? XD

1. He treats every interaction with every sentient being he encounters as a training exercise; he does not know how to function without trying to manipulate every other being to benefit him in some way.

2. He loves and hates animals equally, both sickened and fascinated by them, and to no small degree hates the fact that he finds them fascinating.

3. He is obsessed with his favourite brand of aftershave and doesn’t realise that pretty much everyone else in Intel knows when he’s been in a room ahead of them.

4. He is a control freak to an almost debilitating degree, but also knows how to play the game and rein himself in when things don’t go his way when necessary. But he’ll store that frustration and lash out at others behind closed doors rather than deal with and accept that disappointment in a healthy way.

5. He loves watching others cause pain and bloodshed almost more than he loves delivering it himself.

15. Can they multi-task or must they focus on one subject at a time?

He prefers being able to focus, and will generally try to arrange things so that his mind can be entirely present on whatever task is at hand, but he can and will multi-task if it is necessary- and do so very well. He is a Watcher, after all.

17.  Is your character an introvert or an extrovert? How do they handle big crowds of people?

He’s definitely an introvert. He hates almost everybody. And even though it can sometimes appear that he’s not happy until everybody is noticing, respecting, obeying and being awed and intimidated by him, in truth he will never really be happy until he learns how to do away with all that and actually be happy with himself.

19.  If your character was suddenly challenged, would they rather run away or stay and fight?

Oh he would fight, competently, mercilessly, and violently, with the expectation that his Ciphers would back him up without question.

21.  Your character has been granted 3 wishes; what would they wish for and why?

1. To have his sister back.2. For the head of the Roquefort’s prize narglatch to be mounted above his bed.3. To be promoted to Keeper.

25.  Do they have any weird bedroom habits? Any unusual kinks?

Okay so he is a sadistic, domineering control freak with a shapeshifting Cipher at his beck and call YOU DO THE MATH >.> 

28.  Are they afraid of death? Do they have any regrets?

Absolutely, terrifically. A LOT of his insatiable desire for control springs from his terror of the utterly unforgiving nature of death. He regrets very little of his adult life but he fiercely regrets wandering off through the gardens that day as a young boy. He wishes he’d had the sense to stay put, he wishes he’d been stronger, and sometimes he wishes he’d gone first.

[cloudbattrolls]

Pest Control

Gliese Benral | Alternian OLSC Greenhives | Present Night

You swear under your breath, chasing down cutworms with your sticky brush.

Why those careless dumbshits keep bringing you soil with pests in it, you’ll never know. A sweep with a lifeform detector and some traps could get the majority of them out and make your life easier.

As it is, you swat at the slimy little fucks trying to escape into the black dirt like you’re playing whack a mole.

You’ve stuck rude notes to Karina’s door at least five times - yelling at her is a waste of breathing - and all she does is roll her eyes, sigh, and explain that they don’t have the time.

She’s been informed that if they don’t start making the time, she’ll find your boot so far up her ass she can taste the floors you walk on.

It’s not like you have troll assistants in your greenhive. Robots of varying sizes hum and hover above the beds, scooting along cleaning the floor or watering plants. But they can’t be trusted with finicky jobs like these.

The tealblood had offered you your pick of possible helpers back when you first joined and you’d refused them all. You weren’t one of those spoiled useless blues who needed people to do everything for them.

The quiet of the greenhive is vital.

With a shake into the incinerator robot hovering obediently next to you, you bid the stalk-chewing little shits an enthusiastic death.

Then your phone chirps, even though you have it set to do not disturb. Shedding your gardening gloves with a grumble, you peek at the text notification hovering in front of your lock screen, an old photo of you on a hover board.

“If you’re at a stopping point, Vannyn is coming over for a test. See how much you can control them.”

It’s the assumption your work ever has “stopping points” that pisses you off more than her sending her pet rainbow drinker over with almost no warning.

As if guarding your darlings against disease, pests, their own stupid whims to die, and troll error is a job with breaks. You’re always figuring out new ways to nourish them, protect them, coax maximum yield out of their stalks.

So you don’t have time for this shit, but you also don’t want another passive aggressive lecture.

“Weird old trolls.” You sigh to yourself. “Everywhere I go, weird old trolls who are my fucking problem. Am I cursed or what? Why can’t she send me anyone slightly normal to work with?”

At least it’s not Kokora. The psiionic jade is fun in small doses, but her voice grates on your long ears. You’ve only heard Vannyn talk once, their voice light and whimsical and weirdly young sounding for how old they are.

There’s a knock at the translucent sliding doors, and the sensor on your side of them pings a definitive green that the jade has been cleared to enter.

“You can just come in, you know.” You call out, crossing your arms.

“What if you’d been in the middle of something? I didn’t want to just barge through!”

Of course the weird undead thing has more manners than your damn boss.

“Thanks to her royal dipshittery, I’m not, so let’s get this over with.”

They walk in, shifting from foot to foot. They look so ordinary, it’s hard to believe they slaughtered a bunch of fleet at Darkfall.

You’ve tried to avoid it on the news, but every other week there’s something or other about recruitment offices vainly trying to replace the forces lost to the Darkened, or problems in colonies that don’t have the enforcement level they used to. Karina’s pleased; it makes establishing checkpoints and sneaking through imperial territory easier.

All you can think about is where they could send Kit because of it.

“What does she want me to make you do, did she say?” You don’t tap your cane against the floor - the noise is annoying - but you grip the top of it in your hands, the smooth rubber reassuring under your claws in case you have an episode.

Shit, if you did would you be drinker food? Nah, Karina would probably burn them. You have one of the heat lasers too, but it’s at the bottom of your sylladex with most anything else she gives you.

“Basic commands, walking and raising my arms and all that.” They say, waving a dismissive hand. “Since that’s boring, why not have me help with the plants? I have a little experience - we had small gardens in my cavern.”

Confusion must be printed in block letters on your face, because they laugh a little, ears flicking.

“I may not eat, but everyone else did.” They remark, gently amused. “Go on - have me prune or rake or something.”

They look so normal. So alive, like the trolls you practiced on in the base, bored and waiting for it to be over or else anxious, wondering what you’d do to them.

Taking a deep breath, focusing on the rich smells of the plants, you reach for them. Orange sparks crackle around your eyes and horns.

On the surface, they’re almost like a normal troll, but then the coldness seeps in. It’s not just one mind either - there are tiny impulses beneath it, connecting into a greater whole.

In Hanhai, there were too many of them to feel such subtleties. If they were even there. Those zombies were dumb, run on gem virus instinct - not like the rainbow drinker in front of you.

They start plucking off dead leaves obligingly enough, but those tiny impulses feel...hostile. Like they’re doing what you want on one level, but deeper down, they’re lucid and they hate you. Yet their bright green eyes are placid enough, and their movements are even.

If it were hateful words, you could ignore them with the ease of practice. But this is a silent dread that gradually crawls upward every second you hold the connection, prickling your neck.

You’ve got to hold out. You can do this, goddammit. You’re not weak.

A soft cracking noise comes from the floor as you dig your cane into it, shoved down by your tense highblood strength.

There’s a growing pile of dead yellowed leaves. Good. Your knees are shaking. Doesn’t matter.

Blood in your mouth from a bitten tongue. You’ve had worse doing stunts for wrigglers.

Your own thoughts begin to drag, feel chilly. More dead leaves. Dark gray hands picking them.

Why won’t your air sacs work?

Miss Benral?

Did someone call you through molasses? From about fifty miles away? You can’t move.

Miss Benral!

You’re cold. You want to sleep.

“Gliese!”

Gasping, you grip your cane for dear life as the jadeblood sits in front of you on a chair they pulled up, concern etched into their eyes and mouth.

“I’m sorry - you weren’t responding to your last name. I wasn’t trying to overstep. What happened? I promise I didn’t try to interfere. Karina would have my head.”

“I believe you.” You mutter. “It didn’t feel intentional. It was like a subconscious that fucking hated me.”

A mug of hot tea is offered and you take a gulp without hesitation. It helps wash away the blood.

“Oh dear. That’s the worms, I suppose - can’t think what else it could be. They’re stupid creatures.”

“What does that make you?” You snicker between sips that nearly scald your mouth. It’s hard to feel cold now.

“A dazzling idiot.” They say, giving a needle-toothed smile. “You seem better.”

“Peachy.” You grumble, still annoyed with yourself. You don’t let cutworms get the better of you - why are Vannyn’s stupid parasites such a problem? Bloody undead.

“I won’t tell our dear boss if you don’t. We can just say -“

“No. I want to figure out how to get past this.”

They pause, blinking.

“I was under the impression you weren’t fond of your abilities.”

“Yeah? Did whoever told you that also say I like to give up like a crying wriggler whenever I hit a little obstacle?”

They chuckle softly.

“You are a Lepus, aren’t you. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Yeah, yeah, all hail my hopbeast glory.”

The tea mug clinks back down as you take another long sip, feeling a pleasant burn in your throat.

“Let’s try again.”

They nod obligingly, and with a crackle of sparks, you fling yourself back into the fray.

[sage-nebula]

I finished both the main story and the postgame story of Pokémon Sword, so I figure I’ll type up a little informal review on it, if for nothing else than to have my thoughts on record.

Overall: I liked it, and think despite Game Freak’s failings, it was an improvement over both the Kalos and the Alola games.

First, just from a gameplay standpoint: While I’m still upset about the National Dex being axed, as well as upset over Mega Evolution being axed, and mad about Mimikyu being nerfed even though I knew last gen it would happen, overall gameplay improved VASTLY in this game when compared to the Alola games especially. True, your outfit is still ugly when you’re on your bike, but the music doesn’t change to something hideous, and you can use the bike to maneuver over both land and water. The curry minigame in Camp might be a bit finicky, and the play options are limited (+ I miss being able to pet my pokémon), but Camp lets all of your pokémon out at once, and they can interact with each other, and I think that’s really great. Additionally, I like the immersion of being on a journey and being able to set up camp and cook. It’s nice. Customization is far better in this game than in previous games (even if I found the perfect outfit right at the start and never changed it---though hell, that’s a bonus), I like controlling everything with the buttons rather than using a touch screen, the wild area is a lot of fun to run around in, I like having pokémon visible on the overworld . . . overall, I just find it to be an improvement over the Alola games in terms of gameplay in virtually every way. At least for me, the Alola games were not very much fun to play. I loathed the Ride music and the fact that I was using someone else’s pokémon instead of my own (and as a result had to walk everywhere since they didn’t give me a goddamn bike), the customization options were really lacking, the level balance was horrible and so grinding was an absolute chore, Refresh was annoying because your pokémon were dirty after basically every single goddamn battle and you could only tidy one of them up at a time, and so on and so forth. The Galar games aren’t perfect, but in terms of gameplay they’re a huge improvement over Gen VII and that makes me breathe a sigh of relief at least, because the most important thing about video games is that they have to be fun to play. If you’re not having fun because the mechanics are bad, there’s a problem.

As far as the story goes, it definitely had its issues, most notably in the fact that Chairman Rose’s goals were never properly explained, the cover legendaries didn’t really factor in much until the postgame, and the fact that Chairman Rose and Oleana were evil at all felt more like a “well we have to have some evil organization in here huh” than anything else---like Game Freak was trying to adhere to tradition rather than writing a villain-based story because they genuinely wanted to write one. The whole situation surrounding Macro Cosmos (a company that I keep forgetting the name of because it wasn’t mentioned until the end) makes a bit more sense to me now than when I originally finished due to reading someone else’s explanation of how Rose was a PokéVillain who had already won by the time the story starts, given that he owns and controls everything in Galar (literally, he controls the very energy they need to keep the lights on and their houses warm), and so what he does is more about maintaining that (thousands of years into the future?) than anything else. Which I get, but . . . it still makes his actual actions and motivations feel weak and poorly explained.

But despite that, as well as a few other flaws (the annoying enemy characters in the postgame, the fact that Marnie was TRAGICALLY underused), I actually did enjoy it. Despite my disdain for organized sports in real life, I liked that the Gym Challenge was set up as a tournament in which your rivals participated (and that there were many other participants, too) because finally it felt like there was a reason to go after the badges, versus doing it just because the Gyms were there and you wanted to become Champion for no reason. The fact that more and more NPCs started to take notice of you as you progressed as well is another thing I liked. Although I hated that we couldn’t customize the Gym uniform (it’s so ugly!!), I did like having a personal number (mine is 494---Victini’s National Dex number), as well as the fact that it was yet another way for the fans in the game to identify you. Not only that, but having your rivals be fellow competitors in the Gym Challenge was also a nice touch. Sure, Hop was yet another hometown friend, but the others were just fellow competitors that took notice of you, and I really enjoyed that.

Speaking of Hop and the other rivals, the characters were, I felt, by and large another improvement over Kalos and Alola games. Aside from the antagonists in the postgame (who were poorly designed and also terribly annoying), as well as Gym Leader Gordie, there aren’t any characters that I really disliked, and in fact, I found the development for most of the major ones (in particular Sonia, Bede, and even Hop) to be pretty good.

A bit more detail on that: 

Sonia: Honestly, Sonia is probably my favorite character from these games (although Marnie is a close second). I am absolutely surprised by her and how much I came to love her considering I wasn’t too interested in her before the game was actually in my hands. Sonia is set up as being a twenty-something-year-old who fancies herself her grandmother’s assistant, but honestly is just kind of languishing at the beginning of the game and doesn’t really have a clear goal---to the point where her grandmother boots her out and makes her travel the region exploring the history to learn more about the Dynamax phenomenon. (And yes, Sonia is definitely in her twenties; both she and Leon refer to themselves as adults, and these games were created in Japan, where the age of adulthood is 20. So while we don’t know their exact age, we know they’re at least over 20.) Sonia is a little miffed about this at first, but as the story goes on she becomes more and more interested in and passionate about her studies, which culminates in Professor Magnolia passing the lab coat over to her. And it was at that point I realized: Although Professor Magnolia is the official professor at the start of the game, the fact that she has absolutely no impact on the game whatsoever (or at least very minimal impact) is because the real professor of the game is Sonia. We interact with her regularly, she helps compile information about what’s going on with regards to the game’s main plot, she guides and influences both the player character and Hop, and ultimately she comes to realize her own goal and dreams. The fact that an adult character in these games got to have an arc like this---one where she wasn’t sure what to do with herself at first, but came to find her own dream and take over the lab---was absolutely wonderful to me, an adult player. Sonia was definitely a refreshing character for the series and I was so, so proud of her when she finally got her lab coat, found her goal, and started living her best life. Sonia’s brilliant and I’m a huge fan.

Hop: On a personal, personality-level, I find Hop to be kind of annoying. He’s the type of person who would wear me out quickly in real life, and I honestly would have preferred if the primary rival was Marnie instead of him (since I feel him eating up so much screentime is part of why Marnie got shafted---but more on that later). But that said, I feel like Hop was Hau done right, that his character arc was well-written, and I love that we see him finally step out of the shadows and find his own path at the end of the postgame story. Hop, like Hau, has a famous relative that he looks up to and wants to surpass one day. But Hop, unlike Hau, also takes his training seriously from the start, struggles and shifts through various strategies as he tries to figure out what it is that he should do rather than just sticking to the same thing and hoping that it produces a different result, and ultimately concludes that he can do something different with his life, that he can change fields and make a name for himself his own way, without having to live up to expectations of what others think of him, or what his brother has done. While Hop resembles past rivals in the series in various ways (e.g. Barry’s impatience, Hau’s famous relative), he also sets himself apart by having a clear and defined character growth arc, culminating in his capture of the other mascot legendary and his newly appointed position as Sonia’s research assistant. I’m not personally a big fan of Hop’s, but as a character I think he was well done and I don’t dislike him either. At the very least, he easily tramples all of Kalos’ rivals (not that that’s hard, since the Kalos Friend Group is the most annoying set of rivals the series has ever seen), and I like him more than Hau as well. (The fact that Hop doesn’t delegitimize child abuse the way Hau does in USUM is a big point in his favor.)

Bede: On the other hand, I love everything about this little shithead. I love that we finally, FINALLY have a jerkass rival for the first time since Gen IV. I love that even after his character development (which he gets!) he doesn’t stop being a jerkass, he just becomes slightly less of one. (Very slightly.) While it was touched upon only a little, I like that the reason why he’s such a little asshole is because of how Rose and Oleana were using him (Oleana is the one that gets blamed, but it was Rose who gave Bede his first pokémon and endorsed him, and then later in Hulbury acted like he didn’t even know who Bede was, thereby implying that Bede feels that he has to work extra hard to gain Rose’s approval and attention), and that once he was taken in by a good guardian (Opal), he improved not only as a trainer, but as a person. It was so great to see Bede finally happy near the end of the game, once Opal took him in, and also great that even though he was a little shit to everyone around him, he also treated his pokémon well (and thus wasn’t a “he’s an asshole so he uses his pokémon as tools!” type). Bede’s great. I love Bede.

Marnie: I also love Marnie, though as I’ve said numerous times, she was critically underused. Despite the fact that her older brother is a Gym Leader, Marnie has pretty much no impact on the plot, barely shows up at all, doesn’t appear in the postgame story at all (even though she’s a Gym Leader now!), and overall feels like she’s just sort of . . . there. This frustrates me not only because I love what little we do see of her (the fact that she has a south London accent is already a huge plus in her favor, along with her design, battle music, and overall character), but because I feel this happens all-too often with female rivals in Pokémon games. Granted, it’s not like we have a surplus; aside from the opposite-gender player rivals, the only dedicated female rivals we have in the entire series apart from Marnie are Bianca and Shauna (because given that Lillie doesn’t battle for the majority of the story, she does not count as a rival). Shauna, like all the rivals in XY, has an ineffective, weak team and doesn’t really accomplish anything at any point. And while Bianca’s team is fantastic and she does end up becoming Professor Juniper’s assistant in the second game, in the first game she’s sidelined after her Munna gets stolen and spends the rest of the game with her spirit broken as a result of it (which, IMO, is the one being flaw in BW’s otherwise excellent storytelling). So to get another dedicated female rival, only to have her barely be involved in the plot at all and not really go through any meaningful development is incredibly disappointing. If there is a follow-up game to the Galar games, I hope Marnie gets more to do. (And as a side note, Team Yell is in a similar situation to Macro Cosmos; it honestly feels like they only exist because Game Freak feels they have to have an “evil team” at this point, much like Skull in the last gen.)

This is long, and also it’s almost 3am and I’m tired, so rather than typing up blurbs for all the other characters, I’ll just give short lists:

Other characters I loved: Nessa, Kabu, Bea, Opal, Raihan

Characters that were OK but had certain things about them that were off-putting to me: Leon, Chairman Rose, Oleana

Characters I’m completely ambivalent about: Professor Magnolia, Milo

Characters I hated: Gordie, the Sword and Shield brothers I’m not even going to bother to remember their names because they were that fucking stupid

And that’s it, I’m going to go see if I can sleep now.

[spectraspecs-writes]

Tatooine - Chapter 56 (HK-47)

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 55. Chapter 57.

@averruncusho thank you for reading you get a tag.

We get back to the ship just as the wind starts to pick up. Only thing to do is wait until this blows over. Carth, who was outside looking over the ship, looks surprised to see us. “Don’t tell me you found the Star Map already,” he says.

“Nope,” I say, “Sandstorm. We’ll have to head out again tomorrow.”

He comes inside with us and closes the hatch. “Bought a new droid?” he asks.

“Yep, got a good deal from an Ithorian,” I say, “See, Bastila? I just told the Republic.” She harrumphs and goes to the starboard quarters.

“Uh,” he says as Mission and Canderous go elsewhere, too, “okay. What does this droid do, exactly?”

“Combat and translation,” I tell him, “Beyond that I’m just not sure. That’s what I want to figure out.”

“Need a second set of hands?” he asks. Still trying to get back on my good side, I see. I’ve been soft-thinking about it, and I’m not ready to completely forgive him for shouting at me. But if HK is as complicated on the inside as he looked at first glance, I am going to need help. I was just going to ask T3, but on second thought I don’t want him to get jealous. Utility droids can get a bit finicky when you bring in a new droid. They’re like pets - you need a gradual introduction.

“Well, I know you can follow orders,” I say, joking a bit, “Yeah, I suppose. Come along, boys.” HK and Carth both follow me to the cargo bay. (Out of the corner of my eye, I see Carth and Canderous exchange affirmative gestures. Canderous Ordo, friendship counselor, is still a hilarious concept to me.) I move a couple cargo containers around and roll out my toolkit onto one. I sit down on one side of it and Carth sits on the other.

“Might as well start this out by asking,” I say, “HK, tell me more about your functionality.” I doubt it will be this easy.

“Statement: I know some elements of my functionality, master, but not all.”

“I thought you said that removing your restraining bolt would restore your memory?”

“Qualification: I suspected that it might, master. But without memory, I had no way of knowing whether or not I knew that was true.”

“So you lied to me.” Never had a droid that could do that before. Fun.

“Qualification: Err… not so much, master. I spoke out of ignorance. I assumed the Ithorian was responsible for my memory loss. That does not mean I am not a fully loyal droid willing to serve its master. Right… master?”

“This is one desperate droid,” Carth comments. I ignore him.

“How can you not know parts of your functionality?” I ask, “That information should be included in your core.”

“Answer: There have been numerous repairs and tampering made to my system, master.” Naturally. Probably none of that was done by a qualified droid tech. “Several systems are not operating as they should be. The fact that my memory is incomplete may be due to meatbag incompetence… or something else I am unaware of.”

I’m about to ask something else, but Carth put his arm out in front of me - excuse me? “Hold on… ‘meatbag’?” Yeah, I caught that, too. I thought it was funny.

“Qualification: Affirmative. Meatbags like yourself have a tendency to insert tools where they do not belong.

“Retraction: Of course I do not mean you, master. I’m sure you are a meatbag above the rest.”

“What the hell do you mean by meatbag?” Carth protests again.

“Retraction:” This is getting hilarious. “Did I say that out loud? I apologize, master,” HK says to me, “While you are a meatbag I suppose I should not call you such.”

“You just called her a meatbag again!” I can’t help but laugh - boys have argued over me before, but not like this.

“Explanation: It's just that… you have all these squishy parts. And all that water! How the constant sloshing doesn't drive you mad, I have no idea…”

HA! This is great! I love this droid! “You think this is funny?” Carth asks, a bit indignant.

“I think it’s HILARIOUS!” I’ve never had a droid be so direct with me before! “And the fact that you’re so upset about it is even better!”

He shakes his head at me and doesn’t say anything. He thinks about saying something, but evidently he can’t settle on what to say. It takes me a bit to calm down, but eventually I do. “So,” I say, taking a deep breath, “are you damaged?”

“Answer: I believe I have been damaged several times in the past, master. I have always been repaired… but perhaps full functionality has not been restored.”

“Probably none of those repairs were done by someone who knew what they were doing. Is there any way to repair you, give you back full functionality?”

“Answer: Some of my motor functions can be safely repaired, master… but anything in relation to my memory core is extremely sensitive. I have safeguards installed to protect that core that I cannot deactivate. It is not impossible that other, lesser, memory functions could be restored, however.”

“I can restore your memory, then.”

“Answer: You may attempt to restore portions of my deleted memory, master. Conjecture: It is possible that some external stimulus might result in the memory core being reactivated… but I am unaware of any program existence to do so. If you wish to attempt to restore my memory, simply tell me and I will attempt to walk you through it.”

“Let’s get started, then.”

“Statement: As you wish, master. The first stage is the simple one, and that is accessing my central control cluster. This may take a while. First you will need to open three panels.”

“Carth,” I say to get his attention, “Panel tool, please.”

“Right. Uh…”

“The one with the red handle.” Yet another cute guy who knows nothing about droids. “Thank you.”

If I was working by myself - that is, without HK walking me through it - I probably would have done more harm than good. Sure, I know what I’m doing, but HK was not designed according to any standard I’ve ever seen before. It’s not intuitive. I’d certainly like to meet whoever designed him.

“…and now re-wire the last three relays…” HK tells me, “... yes, good. Well done, master. I believe your operation was a success.”

“I should hope so, my hand is killing me.”

“Accessing new memory… Access complete: I have restored a great deal of information about my previous owner, master. Would you like to hear it?”

“Please.” I roll up my tool kit, I’m in no shape to do any further repairs.

“Recitation: The earliest memory of my last owner specifies that he was human, a low-ranking commercial officer for Systech Corporation. I am unaware of his designation. He purchased me from an acquaintance I cannot identify, for the purposes of protocol and bodyguard duties.”

“You mentioned Systech when I purchased you. I’m guessing they didn’t make you, then.”

“Explanation: Affirmative, master. I had assumed that my previous owner was the corporation, itself. This is not the case. The human purchased me privately.”

“And this guy’s dead, right?”

“Answer: Correct, master. The human was terminated by this HK-47 unit prior to system shut-down.”

“I don’t know about this,” Carth says uneasily, “Do we really want a droid around who killed his own master?”

“I doubt it was on purpose.”

“Correct, master,” HK says, “The human's termination was accidental. Explanation: My former master had owned me for a duration of two standard months before discovering my assassination protocol. He was pleased by the discovery. The human informed me that a competitor corporation was preparing to market a product that would ruin him personally. He was most agitated. He activated my assassination protocol and instructed me to kill all those responsible for the competing product. I proceeded to carry out my order.”

“Hang on,” Carth says, “did I hear that right? An assassination protocol?”

“Information: This HK-47 unit is complete with a protocol that, when invoked, will set me to independently carry out a termination. I will go to whatever lengths, travel whatever distances are required, to complete the termination. This is the reason for my combat skills.”

“Well, that’s great!” Carth says, “We can end the war right now, set the droid on Malak!”

“As if Bastila would let me do that.” Funny.

“Forget Bastila; this is for the good of the whole galaxy!”

“I’m not disagreeing with you, I just don’t think that’s the smartest approach.”

“Advisement:” HK interrupts us, “Unfortunately, the assassination protocol is currently non-functional. You will not be able to activate it.”

“Why not?” Carth asks.

“Answer: several of my actuators were damaged by my former owner. They cannot be repaired, master, sad though that is.”

“Well, that ends that, then,” he says, almost disappointed.

“And they were damaged how?”

“Explanation: My former master was unaware of this, but the competitor was in fact an arm of Systech Corporation, my master's own employer. It did not take long for my master to realize his mistake. By then, I had already terminated 104 corporate officers.”

“Why didn’t he just deactivate you?” I ask. Carth seems to have been stunned into silence.

“Answer: I was not present to be deactivated, master. Part of my protocol is not to return to my master until my function is complete. I still had 15 officers to go.”

“One hundred nineteen people..” Carth says, still shocked.

“I do not know why my master was so upset, really,” HK continues, “He was an officer of Systech and a potential target, but I cannot terminate my own master. I would assume that being the sole officer remaining, he would surely be promoted. Instead, however, the human chose to go insane with rage and attack me.”

“So that’s when you killed him?” I say.

“Objection: Naturally not, master! As I said, I am incapable of purposefully terminating my owner. That would not be allowed. My master was not a smart man, however. While he was screaming and stabbing me with a writing utensil, he managed to pierce one of my actuators. The resulting shock terminated him and, sadly, destroyed my assassination protocol. Pure luck on his part, I suspect.

“I shut down immediately whenever my master dies. I can only assume that while I was shut down Systech was dismantled and I was auctioned off as former corporate property. Observation: No doubt my sale price was quite cheap, leading to Yuka Laka's purchase. How very demeaning.”

“I can’t believe it,” Carth says, still stunned, “You bought a murder bot.”

“Says the guy who wanted me to sic him on Darth Malak.” The cheek. “Did you recover anything else?”

“I have recovered knowledge of some other actuators which will enhance my performance, master. I will activate them now. But as for my own history… negative. It will require further effort on your part to restore them, if you wish… though certain stimuli could always restore my core, still, as I explained. For now, please excuse me, master. I wish to meditate upon the face of my former meatbag master as he was electrocuted. I find it most soothing.”

“Have a blast.” HK moves out of the cargo bay.

I fiddle with my implant a bit. It should deaden the pain in my hand a bit. Maybe I put in the wrong one… “Thanks for letting me help,” Carth says, “I’ve never done much work with droids.”

“Well, if you’re planning on branching out, you’ve got a long way to go.”

“I’m sure I do,” he says, “I’m just glad you’re talking to me again.”

“Rena?” Bastila calls - thank God, I’m not ready to talk with Carth yet. She steps into the doorway. “If you’re doing something…”

“No, just finished,” I say, “What’s up?”

“If it’s not too much to ask,” she says, “once the storm clears, I’d like to go to the cantina myself to look in on my mother.” And? “I’d… appreciate it if you came with me.”

“Of course! What are friends for?”

“Thank you.” And she leaves.

Well, that suitably distracted Carth from whatever he was going to say, thankfully. Maybe by tomorrow I’ll have everything sorted out in my head, but not yet. “Well, I’m going to go to the med bay, see to my achy hand,” I say, picking up my kit and not giving him any room to object, “Thanks for your help.”

“Yeah,” he says, still quiet, “Sure.”

Oh, boy, I hope he doesn’t pout for too long.

[ancientbooshartifacts]

Ask Naboo

Author: Nonexistantpup

Year: 2010

Rating: PG

Characters/Pairings: Naboo, Bollo, Spider Dijon, Rudi Van DiSarzio, The Braincell, Howince, Moss/Roy

Bollo slid his glasses up to his forehead and rubbed his hairy temples with two fingers. “It no good,” he said with a frown. Naboo looked up, annoyed. He was busy relaxing and smoking and hated to be interrupted. “What’s no good?” “Books no add up,” Bollo said. He sigh. “Bollo warn Naboo that monkeys not make good book keeper.” “What are you saying?” asked Naboo, with an impending feeling of doom. He’d have said he had a bad feeling, but didn’t want to steal Bollo's favourite phrase. “Need money,” Bollo explained. “Stop paying the losers workin’ downstairs then,” said Naboo. “Done that. Sold beach house too. No more money. What else can Naboo spare?” Naboo frowned. There was his submarine, but he never felt comfortable without one of them in the house. His Rudi & Spider memorabilia couldn't go either, of course, and his rug collection was pretty vital. “We better fix this,” he said unhelpfully. “Otherwise I’ll have to sell you, Bollo.” Bollo paled. Or - well, he didn't really pale. His fur remained the same colour. He seemed unnerved, however. “But - Naboo need familiar!” “I know,” said Naboo. He tapped his chin. “We need make money.” Naboo clicked his tongue and took another drag from his hookah. “I suppose I can go back into pop psychiatry,” he said thoughtfully. “I do sort of miss it. Hearing about peoples’ problems. Imparting wisdom. The regular income...” “What about Bollo?” asked Bollo. Naboo shrugged. “You could be my editor.” Bollo seemed appeased by this idea, and put his glasses back down onto the table. “Now,” said Naboo, “Call up the newspapers and tell them I'm willing to reinstate my relationships column." Dear Naboo, I can’t fulfill my partner’s sexual needs anymore; I'm exhausted! If it was just a good, hard romp four or five times a day, it would be no problem, but he’s practically insatiable! He has eight cocks, you see, which means every time we make love, we do it eight times in a row, each time lasting at least a month and a half. Now, I'm not great at mathematics, but I contacted a local mathematician, who informs me that 4 x 8 x 1.5 equals 48. Which means that every day, I have sex for over forty-eight months - in other words, more than four years! I'm exhausted! What should I do? - A Worn-Out Woman ‘Worn-Out Woman’, As I see it, your options are threefold. 1. Dump the freak and get some sleep. 2. Let me tell you the story of the broken flute. Once upon a time, there was a flute. One day, he tripped over one of his shoelaces and fell onto the footpath, breaking to pieces instantly. All the little shards of flute were scattered all over the place, causing passing bare-footed pedestrians to cut their feet. One of these pedestrians happened to be a passing eccentric billionare, who limped home, not realising the shard was still in his foot. The shard of flute had never been in a mansion before, and hopped off gleefully to look around, and liked the place so much that, that night, it cut the millionaire's throat while he slept and inherited his entire fortune. See what I'm sayin’? 3. Get over it. Sure, it may be hard to deal with at times. I get that. But think about it, yeah? You’ve got a man who alters the very laws of physics, the axioms of reality, just in order to have enough time to spend in the sack with you every day. There’s not many men who would do that. Love, Naboo

= =   

To Naboo, How can I make my boyfriend take our relationship more seriously? I mean, we have so much fun together and I know he cares about me, and yet whenever people ask him about me, he lies as if he’s ashamed, saying he is merely changing one of my strings. I love him, but if this doesn’t change, I don’t think I can go on seeing him. Please save our relationship? - Irritated Instrument Irritated Instrument, I had a similar conundrum in the forties, as it happens, when my girlfriend at the time wouldn't admit to being deeply in love with our cutlery drawer. They got together eventually, and are still together today, I believe, and expecting their second child. There are two options I can reccommend: 1. Don’t give up! If he cares for you, he will come through. Speak to him openly and honestly and tell him how you feel. 2. Give up! He’s a loser who seems to enjoy getting off with inanimate objects anyway. Find somebody more your type - a cello or perhaps a ukulele if you’re strung that way. Love, Naboo = = Deer Naboo, It’s got to the point where I just don’t no what to do anymore. I am married with children, yet I can’t seem to think of anything except the other people I’d like to shag and how much the drudgery of an unhappy marriage is marring my carefully pampered image. It would be alright, you know, but the person I’d really ideally like to fool around with just sees me as her boss. I’ve tried everything! I invited her to work late, and she worked late. I told her she was cute and she said ‘thank you’. I even custom-designed a sparkly soot, just to get her attention, but she still doesn't notice me. I'm starting to doubt my dead sexiness and although I know I have quite an important job, my work ethic is crumbling like a fresh piece of shortbread. What can I do?! - Suffering Cell Suffering Cell, I have some words of wisdom for you, although I can’t be sure they will be anything new. You have not been specific about many of your problems, but my crystal ball has kindly filled in most of the blanks. What you must consider very seriously is this tale - the tale of the ant and the grasshopper. Once upon a time, there was an ant and a grasshopper. They were experiencing a fruitful summer. For the whole season, the ant worked hard, storing up food for the winter while the grasshopper just hung around smoking joints and watching the telly, not collecting any food except for what he wanted to eat that day. The ant warned him that laziness came with consequences, but the grasshopper didn't care. When winter came, the ant had a huge stockpile of food - enough to keep it and its family nourished all the way through until spring, while the grasshopper was left outside, cold and hungry. He had run out of weed and the electric company disconnected his telly. Desperate, he knocked on the ant’s front door to beg for food, but frustrated with the grasshopper’s lack of responsibility, the ant said he would only share his family’s food if the grasshopper sold his body, prostituting himself off to the ant in exchange for food. The grasshopper, who wasn’t into that kind of thing (in fact, he was a bit of a prude) turned away in disgust, and the very next day he hopped aboard a plane, smuggling himself in the luggage of a slightly inebriated badger. He found himself on the other side of the world, where it was summer and food was plentiful, paid his way out of debt quickly and hired a lawyer so he could sue the ant for sexual harassment. I hope this has cleared some things up for you. Love, Naboo.

= = Alright, Naboo? Probably are. You seem to be pretty on top of things, being a shaman and that. Anyway, I live with a friend of mine who drives me nuts. He has no taste in clothes or music (ie. wears tweed and listens to jazz), is finicky (ie. Control Freak!) and I just fancy the pants off him. Well - not literally. Do you think it would be possible for me to actually do that though? But that’s not my question. See, he's taken to walking around the place wearing nothing. Well, nothing except this monocle of his - something to do with ‘going au naturale with class’. Whatever the reason behind it, it’s making me mental. I can’t even fancy the pants off him from afar, because a whole lot of the time he ain’t wearing them to begin with! So, what do you reckon? - A Very Randy Socialite Very Randy Socialite, You batty crease. Can't you tell? He's trying to seduce you. Just don't do anything unless you're sure there’s nobody else in the house, yeah? Love, Naboo P.S. I mean it. If I hear you two humping away in the next room, I'm throwing you out on your naked arses. I don't need that shit.

= =

Dear Naboo, I'm having the most awful trouble getting girls. See, I'm not bad to look at and I'm a clever, sensitive man, but none of them will look past my career. I am a homocidal maniac (hoping to climb the ladder and become an official genocidal maniac). I can't give that up! How can I get girls to accept me? - Bloody Lonely Bloody Lonely, I had a friend with the same problem. He worked in Dickson’s and girls could never come to terms with it, judging him and all that. Here's some wisdom that helped him and will hopefully do the same for you. This is the story of the green crow. Once upon a time, there was a crow. He was a normal crow, except for the fact that he was green and looked like a big, feathered, mouldy potato. In fact, one day Marilyn Manson saw him and was so disgusted that he kicked the poor crow into the recycling bin at a local primary school. The green crow was very upset, especially since he was such a huge Marilyn Manson fan he had a milky lens in one eye and hadn't drunk any water since 1997. Depressed, he sat in the recycling bin for days, ‘caw’ing miserably. On the fourth day, however, a whole lot of colourful craft paper cuttings rained down on him. The green crow was newly inspired. He found some old chewing gum and made himself a turban and cloak out of the colourful paper. From that day on, everybody treated him with respect because they thought he was a mouldy, green, feathered shaman and Marilyn Manson issued a public apology. That should clear up your problems. Love, Naboo.

= =

To Sir/Madam (I'm sorry, your name is quite androgynous), I must admit I am quite distressed. My best friend and I are always doing things together. We should be seeing girls but instead we’re always in each other’s company like an old married couple. I'm at the end of my tether. Thank you in advance, - In A Flippin’ Rut In A Flippin’ Rut, The answer to your problem is so simple, I'm frankly staggered that you’ve even found the need to ask my advice. Obviously, you and your best friend are meant to be together. The real problem is just that you have all the elements of a successful marriage except for a healthy sex life. So, you know. Get it on. Duh! Love, Naboo P.S. I do have more specific advice regarding what you should do, but it is inappropriate material to have published here. Send me a private email and I shall tell you the story of the phallus-shaped coral.

= =

Dear Naboo, Just what kind of an advice columnist are you? My friend wrote to you, complaining that we can't meet anyone because we're "like an old married couple" and you send him some story about coral willies and tell him to seduce me in the most disgusting way imaginable. You are obviously a pervert and shouldn't be allowed to give advice to anyone. -Thoroughly Repulsed P.S. Just to clear things up, we are NOT like a married couple in any way. 

= =

Thoroughly Repulsed, That’s gratitude for you. From your indignation, it’s pretty clear to me that the seduction worked. If you wanted it to happen in another way - one that perhaps didn't involve an aquarium, smelling salts or three feet of chicken wire - you should have stepped up and made the first move on your ‘friend’ long ago. What are you, some kind of selfish, absent-minded, narcissistic slacker? You pompous bloody wanker. Love, Naboo P.S. Whatever. P.P.S. Bite me. P.P.P.S. Prick. P.P.P.P.S. Watch your step, yeah? Or I will turn my back on you.

= =

Naboo, I'll have you know that the seduction did NOT work. What I saw when I got into work this morning made me want to vomit. It's pretty clear to me that you're a wanker with nothing better to do than corrupt perfectly nice people with your kinky fantasies. My friend and I haven't spoken to each other all day and it's been very awkward for the both of us. I hope you're happy. -Repulsed P.S. You're the prick. And how dare you call me narcissistic. 

[crazedlunatic]

“Are You Ready?” Cut Scene

I cut this from the proposal chapter since it was running too long and seemed random... here for anyone that’s bored? 

Kurt kissed his cheek and then went to open the door.

“I’m early, I know, but getting her ready and out of the apartment that quick is an anomaly because usually she’s pulling stuff out of the bag and everything as you try to pack up.” Wes cringed. “Sorry.”

Kurt gasped and held his arms out since Scarlett was reaching for him. “Hi, sweetie.”

Blaine got up and walked over to Wes, grinning.

“You good?” Wes asked.

“Yep.” Blaine nodded.

“Not upset it’s before April?” Wes laughed.

“No. With everything with Burt, I was kind of wishing I hadn’t said that.” Blaine admitted as Wes hugged him. “Where is AJ?”

“She got held up at work but she’s on her way home now and then she’ll be over… I can’t believe I’m so early.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Kurt smiled. “You can always come as early or as late as you want… especially if you bring this cute baby.”

“If you put her on the ground, she might walk for you.” Wes said, going and sitting on the floor near them.

“Dadadada!”

“Oh my God. It’s a word!” Kurt said. “I know she’s saying them but it’s so cute to hear it.”

“Yeah, it is. Sit her down, though.”

Kurt did so and she very quickly crawled to Wes.

Wes kissed her cheek and then stood her up. “Go get Blaine.”

She plopped on her butt and started to crawl.

“Ah ah.” Wes pulled her back and stood her up.

“I’ll come closer.” Blaine said, plopping on the floor close to Wes and Kurt, but far enough that Scarlett could take a few steps.

Wes tossed a bag to Blaine with some cut up strawberries.

“Do you like strawberries?” Blaine asked.

Scarlett looked between Kurt, Wes, and Blaine before crawling back to Kurt.

“Hmm.” Blaine shrugged and ate the piece.

“She’ll do it eventually… probably when nobody is looking.” Wes kind of shrugged.

“I’ve seen it once… but it was like one step then floor.” Blaine laughed as the front door opened.

“Mamama!” Scarlett took off walking towards AJ, making it nearly all the way before falling on her butt.

“Well, AJ is here.” Blaine smiled and waved.

“For the record, she does not do that when I pick her up from Adrian and Matt’s.” Wes told Kurt and Blaine. He then looked at AJ. “She didn’t want to walk for Kurt and Blaine.”

“She’s finicky.” AJ shrugged and scooped her up. “But she’ll do anything for David. It’s so funny.”

Wes took the bag of strawberries from Blaine and took them over when Scarlett motioned with both hands. “Eat.”

Scarlett blew a raspberry and took a piece of strawberry.

“We don’t like Daddy today, do we?” AJ laughed.

“That might be an everyday thing.” Blaine snorted, then grinned sweetly when Wes shot him a look.

“EAT!” Scarlett said loudly, moving her hands together again.

“I’m working on it, child.” Wes let out an exaggerated sigh and gave her two more pieces.

“Can you take her?”

“She doesn’t want me but yes, I can.” Wes set the bag down and took Scarlett.

AJ immediately ran over, bent down, and gave Blaine a huge hug from the side. “He got you.”

Blaine grinned and hugged her back.

AJ then gave Kurt an equally huge hug.

Kurt let out a loud laugh, seeing Scarlett hugging Wes’ neck.

“See? She hugs me but she wont walk for me. If someone gets kisses, she has to kiss somebody too.” Wes gave Scarlett a look and blew a raspberry on her cheek, prompting loud baby giggles. He then took Scarlett over, sitting on the floor and making a sort of circle between the four of them.

“So when’s the wedding?” AJ grinned.

“When’s yours?”

“August 2nd or something like that.” Wes joked and then smiled sweetly when AJ glared at him.

There was a knock and then Alec and Eric came in.

Scarlett squeezed between AJ and Blaine, then took off making a beeline right to Eric.

“I haven’t met you but I already love you!” Eric scooped her up.

Alec looked between Eric and Scarlett. “What, are you the baby whisperer?”

“Maybe.” Eric said before Scarlett stuck her fingers in his mouth.

“Oh my God. I am so sorry.” AJ stood.

“He’s fine. He plays with babies and toddlers all day at work. Even on his breaks.” Alec reassured her and then made an excited face at Blaine.

Blaine grinned again.

“Yay!” Eric said. “More married friends.”

“You’re older than all of us. Most of your friends are married.” Kurt laughed.

“Enjoy her while you can. As soon as David gets here, she’ll probably kick your head off trying to get to him.” Blaine said.

“Is David your friend?” Eric gasped. “He’s a good one to have.”

“How old is she?” Alec asked.

“Fifteen months.” Wes said.

“It’s been a long fifteen months.” AJ joked.

“The great thing about my job is I get to play with them all day and then send them home with mommies and daddies.” Eric went over and handed her to AJ, who she was reaching for. He then turned to Kurt. “Sooo, did you laugh? Did you cry? Did you say yes? I mean I’m assuming you said yes if we’re here.”

“I actually asked him.” Kurt said.

“I told you that.” Alec gave Eric a look.

Eric gasped and said, “I don’t know why but this makes me so much happier than I already was! I just assumed it would be the other way around.”

“Don’t wait three years.” Alec said.

“Honestly just go to the courthouse and do it tomorrow.” Eric said as David came in. “Saves a lot of stress… and money.”

“We didn’t even spend money.” Alec looked at him.

“Exactly because we didn’t have a typical wedding.”

Scarlett began to shriek happily and tried to crawl off AJ’s lap when the door opened and David came in..

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” David closed the door and rushed over. As soon as he picked up Scarlett, she gave him a hug. “I was going to hug you Blaine and Kurt but I guess I’ll hug you instead.”

“She will fall asleep soon.” AJ promised.

“Me too.” Eric said, waving at David. “Come back.”

“No.” David shook his head, grinning. “Regular sleep is awesome.”

“Bragger.” Eric sighed.

“Did you plan to ask me?”

“No.” Eric pouted.

“Oh my God.” Kurt watched the two of them, amused.

“Two half days a week? Your students are driving me crazy and technically I’m still employed there.”

“Yeah. I told the Chief I wasn’t coming back but I guess she didn’t care.”  David said, moving next to Wes.

“David’s the baby whisperer.” Alec whispered, seeing that Scarlett was asleep. “Not you.”

Wes stood and carefully took her.

“Ooh, the thing is in the guest room.” Kurt hopped up to open the door for Wes.

“I am so glad both of our parents bought us Pack ‘n Plays too.” AJ let out a relieved sigh. “It’s like Oprah. Everyone we know has a pack n play.

David went and hugged Blaine tightly. “Look at you, leaving me alone in the land of still dating.”

“Eh.” Blaine shrugged. “Kurt ordered pizza. Mainly because I asked for pizza. Is Adrian still coming?”

“Yeah. He had to drop something off at the post office and then get Matt.” AJ nodded.

“Is Matt the one who is a police officer?” Alec asked.

“Yeah, but he can’t be an officer anymore.” Blaine sighed. “Also, he and Adrian got married the weekend before last. That’s good, though!”

“Matt is so cute. I think he’s too nice for Adrian.” AJ laughed as Kurt and David came back out.

“I heard that.” Adrian said from the doorway and then walked into the kitchen.

“It might be truuuue.” Matt said and then went straight for Blaine. “You did it!”

“Kurt did it!” Blaine held up his hand.

Matt’s jaw dropped and then he said, “Yes! That is so much more awesome. Sorry, Blaine.”

“No offense taken.” Blaine shrugged.

 “You knew that. That is why Kurt stayed over last night.” Adrian said slowly.

“I mean you never told me why.”

“We were literally talking about how he was going to do it.”

“Yeah, sorry. I was nodding but really paying attention to the TV.” Matt plopped down by AJ. “If I need to fall asleep, will you be my pillow?”

“Only for you, Matt.” AJ patted his leg.

“Ooh, Wes is over there. Bye.” Matt hopped up and went into the kitchen saying, “Hey, do you still want to hear gross and graphic stories? Just a disclaimer, one of them made me vomit and that’s doesn’t happen often.”

“Always.”

“Yeah, I’m going to go listen.”  Eric stood. “Are you, David?”

“No thanks. I set a broken bone today so I’ve had my fill of dramatic things.” David laughed and stood. “I’ll go downstairs and wait for the pizza.”

“Oh my God. I can’t take him anywhere.” Adrian shook his head. “He’s been trying to tell me gross stories and I’m not having it.”

“I can’t take Eric anywhere either. He’ll hear someone coughing in a restaurant and tell them they’ve got Bronchitis.” Alec said.

“Blaine, I don’t want to go back tomorrow.” Adrian groaned. “Ryan texted me and told me tomorrow is going to suck.”

“Oh no. Why?”

“Because tomorrow is arraignment and the lawyers exchange information.”

“Already? Bob didn’t tell me that.” Blaine looked surprised.

“He knew what was happening today. He probably didn’t want to risk you not leaving at three.” Kurt said.

“Yeah. I guess.” Blaine nodded. “Oh God. The manila folder with no writing and with a paperclip on it… yeah, don’t open it.”

“Been there done that. Last January. It sucked.” Adrian sighed.

“So when are you going to get married?” AJ asked sweetly.

“We haven’t really talked about it yet. Between going to see Bob and calling Kurt’s parents there wasn’t a lot of extra time.”

“That’s, like, six hours.” Adrian looked amused.

“Look, we had only once in the last month. Give me a break.” Blaine complained. “He’s only been back in town for your wedding.”

“I’m glad we were able to give you the gift of sex.” Matt said from the kitchen. “But if you think that’s bad I had to wait ten weeks after my surgery.”

“That makes me feel a lot better actually.” Blaine looked at Kurt. “Don’t lose a kidney.”

“I will do my best.” Kurt promised, scooting closer to Blaine.

“So you really don’t have any idea when you want to get married?” Alec asked.

“I mean… we always talked about getting married between 27 and 30… but that was in, like… undergrad.” Blaine shrugged.

“You’re going to wait three years like us, aren’t you?” Alec asked, laughing.

“I mean, we haven’t really talked about it that much.” Kurt said. “Honestly it was going to happen after he got his scores back but after everything with my dad… it seemed stupid to wait for a number.”

“I don’t want to wait too long… preferably three years or less.” Blaine looked thoughtful.

“I’m okay with that.” Kurt smiled.

AJ gasped. “What about babies?”

“Oh, that’ll be a while.” Blaine laughed. “We’re too busy.”

“No. You two would be the cutest dads.” AJ shook her head. “And you don’t want to be too old. I wasn’t born until my parents were, like, forty and they were super boring… which is why I had so much time to learn science and math.”

“Yeah, my parents were pretty young and it was awesome because we went and did things all of the time. If you have more than one, you should try to have them close together… and if you have a lot of them, group them. My mom had my Annie and I at 22, Eli at 24, Noah at 29, and Ben at 30. It worked out well for us. We’re all pretty close.”

“Was your house super loud? I don’t have any siblings.” Alec looked interested.

“Not at all. Half of my family is deaf. I mean Eli and I will actually talk but for the most part, we all just sign. Mom gets mad when we don’t because she’s doesn’t know what we’re saying.” Adrian laughed.

“Yeah you and Eli are the only ones that can hear to actually talk.” AJ laughed. “Ben is so cute. I just want to put him in my pocket.”

“For someone who can’t actually speak, he sure talks a lot.”

“I have an older brother but I was born when he was 13 so we’ve only just now started to get close.” Blaine said. “Oh, I better call him in the morning.”

“You definitely need to.” Kurt nodded.

AJ stood when Scarlett started crying. “That’s our cue, Wes.”

“I’ll tell you next time, Wes.” Matt said cheerfully.

“Yeah if she lets us leave once she sees you.” Wes went to get Scarlett from the second bedroom. “David, you better hide.”

“Seriously?” David asked, scooting behind the side of the couch.

“Every time you leave she is inconsolable for twenty minutes.” AJ told him. “It’s actually pretty pitiful.”

“Did you her that Blaine? She is inconsolable when I leave.” David grinned.

“I hate you so much.” Blaine laughed.

“Let’s be real. That’s because Blaine was gone for three months. Now that he’s back, it will even out.” AJ said.  “Then you’ll both be equal…. But Matt will always be the best.”

Wes walked out. Scarlett saw Matt and reached out going “MA MA MA!”

“Maybe I should have hid too?” Matt asked.

Wes set Scarlett down and she toddled (literally, she was very wobbly) to Matt and reached up.

“Matt, do you care to walk us to the door?” AJ asked.

As if on cue, Scarlett’s arms went around his neck.

“Only for the squish.” Matt said.

AJ hugged Kurt and Blaine, waved at everyone else, and walked out to the hall.

“See you when I see you.” Wes said. “Congrats!”

“Thanks!” Blaine grinned.

Eric went over by Alec and David, yawning.

“Is that my cue-slash-hint?” Alec laughed.

“Nope. Just the body’s reaction to needing sleep.” Eric yawned again.

[distant-rose]

Seal of Fate Prologue (1/8)

Notes: Hi guys! I know I haven’t updated in awhile but I decided to do it with a multi chapter fic. Why? Because I’m insane. Anyway, this is my entry for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer. I hope you enjoy it. I apologise for the late posting on this, I’m visiting friends in Toronto at the moment. I’m hoping to update this fic every Saturday around 5-6pm EST. Please note this hot mess is un-beta’d. I know this prologue feels like an info dump but it’s setting the stage - hence why it’s a prologue. I promise there’s Killian next week. Anyway, special thanks to the admins of @cssns for organising this. Thank you to @welllpthisishappening, @katie-dub and @shireness-says for being my rocks and constant cheerleaders. And last but not least, thank you to @drowned-dreamer for being my amazing artist whose work will be showcased next week when Killian shows up next week. Summary: Emma Swan is looking for only one thing - answers. Abandoned outside a police station in Menemsha, Martha’s Vineyard, Emma has dedicated her life to finding out where she comes from and why she was given away. She finds an unlikely partner in Killian, a selkie she inadvertently summons in a fit of frustration over her cold case. Word Count: 2,700+ Chapters: Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Epilogue Rating: T+

Emma Swan groaned as she escaped from the driver’s seat of her ancient Volkswagen Bug and immediately pulled her arms into a long stretch. It had been a long drive from Maine to Massachusetts and apparently all the moving around she had done on the ferry from the mainland to her destination had been cancelled out by the last forty-five minutes she had spent driving from the ferry to her final destination - the small secluded town of Menemsha.

Scanning her surroundings, Emma had to say she was less than impressed. It wasn’t so much of a town as much as a scattering of Cape Cod styled buildings and fishing shacks. There didn’t seem to be a soul around, but then again, she was visiting a bourgeoise tourist trap out of season. It was better this way. After all, Emma wasn’t here for vacation.

She was here on a mission.

Grabbing her bag and closing the car door, Emma headed towards the large building that sat nearly on top of the marina. It was a fairly old building but well-taken care of with a fresh white paint job and newly cleaned windows. The large sign posted in front of the property claimed it was “Granny’s Diner” but Emma was fairly certain it was built originally to be a more residential property than a restaurant.

The establishment was as sparsely populated as the street. There were only three other patrons; grizzled and sullen men who were crowded around a small table by the window that looked out onto the sea. They eyed her warily as she walked towards one of the booths toward the back of the diner but she made a point to ignore them.

As soon as she sat down, a pretty dark haired waitress with vivid red highlights approached her with a small smile that was a shade more inquisitive than Emma would have liked.

“Can I get you some coffee?” the waitress asked, waving an ancient-looking coffee pot in emphasis.

“I prefer hot chocolate,” she replied before glancing up at the clock located above the breakfast bar, scrunching her nose when she realised she has made quicker time in her travels than expected. It was eleven-thirty and her contact wouldn’t be here for another thirty minutes. “Is too early to order lunch?”

The waitress glanced around the diner before looking back at Emma with a wry smile.

“Normally we don’t do lunch until noon but considering that there’s no one here, I think we’ll be willing to make a special exception. What do you want?”

“A grilled cheese and onion rings instead of fries will do.”

The waitress looked almost amused by the order, a smile quirking at her lips as she scribbled it down. Emma merely rolled her eyes in response. She had heard many a remark about her child-like diet in the past but she liked comfort food and the opportunity to eat it was few and far in-between. Private investigation wasn’t as lucrative as it sounded, especially when located in the sleepy state of Maine.

After a few moments, the waitress walked away to bring Emma’s order to the kitchen, only stopping to give the band of men at the other end round of good-natured bantering. The interaction merely confirmed her suspicions about the little fishing village. Everyone probably knew everyone. It was something that Emma hoped would help with her mission.

The waitress returned with her hot chocolate a few moments later with a reassurance that her food would be out within minutes. Emma gave her a brisk thank you, dismissing her with a nod and taking time to drink in more of the diner.

The place looked like it hadn’t been decorated since the fifties with its bold red vinyl seats and monochrome tiling. There was a large jukebox and an ancient looking gumball machine located near the door. Emma was willing to bet her last pay check that there wouldn’t be a single made before 1965 on it. Despite its rather dated decor, it was probably the cleanest greasy spoon that she had never been in.

While the diner had a homey feel to it, its patrons were a lot less welcoming. The men at the other end of the diner were still blatantly staring at her with undisguised suspicion. Unwilling to let herself be intimidated, Emma met their stare with one of her own, locking eyes with a grumpy looking gentleman as she sipped on her hot chocolate. A small surge of pride curled in her chest when the man looked away, obviously uncomfortable and turned to begin talking to his cohorts in hushed whispers.

“Don’t let those knuckleheads get you,” the waitress said when she returned with Emma’s order. “They’re a bunch of old gossips. We don’t get a lot of traffic here in the off-season so strangers are bit exciting to us.”

“I figured,” Emma replied, watching in confusion as the waitress placed down another plate containing a large burger and fries on the table before swinging into the opposite seat. “Um, I know I’m not from around here but is it normal for you to sit and eat with strangers?”

“No,” the waitress replied casually, picking up the burger to take a bite. “But I kinda wanted to get a feel on you.”

“Why?”

“Well, you are Emma Swan, aren’t you?”

“Depends on who's asking...” Emma responded warily after a moment, trying not to let her hackles rise.

“I’m Ruby Lucas.” She held out her hand to shake. “You’re renting out my house for the next two months. Lucky you did that when you did, I was about to take it down for the season. I generally don’t rent it out post-September but I couldn’t resist the extra cash.”

Emma’s shoulders relaxed at this information. She captured Ruby’s hand in a brief shake before leaning back. She popped an onion ring into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “So, you’re Ruby.”

“I am.”

“You’re not what I expected,” she admitted, wiping at her mouth with the sleeve of her jacket absently.

When Emma had looked at the advertisement online, she had assumed that Ruby was far older considering the sleuth of rules and regulations that had come with the rental. They weren’t necessarily unreasonable, but Emma had expected them to be picked from the mind of a finicky old lady rather than the vibrant young woman in front of her.

“Neither are you. Though I can’t say I had a lot of expectations. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a person renting out a beach house in October and November in Cape Cod, let alone in Memensha. It’s kinda why I wanted to meet you here and get a feel, make sure you’re not a drug dealer or something.”

Emma’s eyebrows rose at her words. “You get a lot of those around here?”

“You have no idea,” she replied darkly, stabbing a french fry into a pool of ketchup with more force than necessary. “The island is kinda a hub for them in the summer. They generally come through the docks here because there isn’t much regulation despite all the petitions to Gold.”

“Gold?”

“Yeah, Mr. Gold. Owns the docks as well as the biggest shipping company in the village. Might as well own all of Martha’s Vineyard while he’s at it. He doesn’t care much for rules unless they’re his own,” Ruby said bitterly. “I don’t mean to bore you with local issues but they’re good things to note considering you’re gonna be here awhile.”

“I appreciate it,” Emma replied with a casual shrug, filing away the information.

Ruby leaned back, giving her another assessing look. Emma merely nibbled at her sandwich, waiting for the moment to pass. She didn’t have to wait long, as Ruby dropped her elbows on the table alongside her pretenses.

“So. What’s your story? Tortured artist? Romance writer? You’re not really like Janet Evanovich or something right? I love her books even if the plot gets a little repetitive.”

Emma snorted. “No. I’m not a writer. Private investigator actually.”

“Sounds exciting. What the hell are you doing here?” Ruby asked, eyes widening in surprise at her own rudeness. “Sorry that came out wrong. I didn’t mean to be such a bitch.”

“You weren’t. It’s okay,” Emma assured her with a forced smile. “It’s not like you weren’t going to find out anyway. I’m here on a case.”

“Case? In Menemsha? Are you looking for something? Because I’m pretty sure you won’t find it here. Nothing is here except fish and the occasional heroin crisis.”

“Not something. Someone,” she replied carefully, playing with her food and not looking directly at her.

Ruby sucked in a breath loudly, causing Emma to look up at her. “You’re not looking for David Nolan are you?”

“No. I’m not, at least I don’t think so. Who is he?”

Ruby visibly relaxed, eyes darting to the other end of the diner to make sure that the other patrons weren’t listening in on their conversation. She then leaned further forward and then spoke in a harsh whisper.

“David is this guy who went missing awhile back. My grandmother was good friends with his mother Ruth and he actually used to work in the diner. He just up and left one day, which good on him because this place is a shithole...but Ruth has never quite accepted that he left...kept saying there was foul play involved and hiring people to look for him. She died last week.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Emma replied, unsure what to do with the information.

“It’s fine. I didn’t really know her much. She was kinda crazy, you know? I just wanted to make sure you weren’t chasing after something you weren’t going to get paid for. Don’t want to waste your time here if you don’t have to.”

“Appreciate it. But I’m not sure David Nolan is connected to my case.”

“If you’re not looking for him, then who the hell are you looking for? Because he’s the only missing person I can think of.”

“It’s a bit of a cold case but I’m trying to track down anything anyone knows about a baby that was found outside the police station here in October 1983.”

“What’s so special about the baby?”

Emma couldn’t help but bristle at the question, squirming in her seat and scrunching her shoulders as she tried to keep her emotions in check. It wasn’t as if Ruby knew how personal this was for her.

“It’s not so much the baby. I know where she is. It’s her parents that I’m trying to find.”

“Why?”

“So, she can look them in the eye and ask them that exact question.”

Their conversation dwindled from there as they focused on their meals. When they finished, Ruby took away their plates and returned with keys in her hand.

“Ready to go?”

Emma eyed the other patrons before looking back at her. “Aren’t you, like, working right now?”

“Oh yeah, working super hard on three people who come here everyday and drink all of our coffee. They’re big boys and can handle a coffee machine on their own.” Ruby snorted.

“You trust them behind the counter?”

“If anything goes missing, I know who took it. There’s like barely more than 400 people in this village.”

Emma held her hands up in surrender, unwilling to question her anymore before following her out into the street.

“Do you need me to drive?” She asked, eying the main road to where it disappeared up the bend.

Ruby laughed, shaking her hand in dismissal. “No, it’s no more than a fifteen minute walk. You can walk all of Menemsha in about twenty-five minutes, no joke. Like I said, it’s tiny.”

They walked up the main drag until it broke into a fork. Emma knew from the drive down that one path lead to the main route that circled the island while the other hugged the coast and seemed to lead to more residential homes. Emma eyed the cottages that lined up neatly to face out towards the ocean. They looked incredibly cute but she knew from her perusal of the rental site that they cost more than a fortune. When she relied this to Ruby, the other woman gave her a bitter smile.

“Nearly everyone who lives here works for the three main fishing families - the Golds, the Hermans and the Spencers, the Golds being the largest. They cut pay last year to make up for a bad fishing season which doesn’t help when you’re barely making enough as is. So, renting out properties in the summer becomes a primary source of income for these people. You can’t blame them for it really and if people are willing to shell out that type of cash for a week in this hellhole, I don’t see the harm.”

“Huh,” Emma replied before sucking in a breath as she caught sight of the large house at the end of the road. Ruby followed her gaze, smile turning into a scowl.

“Ah, that’s where the Devil himself lives.”

“The Devil?”

“Gold.”

The house, if it could never be called that, was ten times the size of the cottages that lined the street with a Greco-styled terrace porch that screamed opulence. The lawn was manicured with a meticulously managed garden hugged the perimeter of the property.

It was a gorgeous building and would have belonged on the front cover of any real estate magazine if it weren’t for the large rack located on the front lawn covered in dark furred pelts. Emma didn’t know what type of animal they belonged to but looking at them sent a cold shiver down her spine.

“What are those?”

“Seal pelts,” Ruby responded with no small amount of disgust. “Mr. Gold loves to hunt them and show off their pelts like they’re trophies.”

“I take it you’re fan of seals?”

“Not particularly. They’re cute and all but they’re supposed to be protected. Killing them is a literal crime.”

“Why doesn’t anyone do anything about it?”

“Because no one wants to lose their jobs. A few dead seals aren’t worth going hungry. Listen, Emma, this place isn’t like anywhere on the mainland. We don’t work the same way. I’m not saying we’re lawless but certain people are untouchable. Gold is one of them and I know you’re just passing through, but I’m telling you right now, avoid him if you can. And if you can’t, it’s best not to get on his bad side.”

“Duly noted.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Alright, alright, don’t mess with the creepy seal killer. I got the message. Loud and clear.”

They stopped in front of a two-story house that was buttercup yellow and built the standard Cape Cod style. Though it was three houses down from Gold’s creepy seal skin display, there was cheery aura to the place that Emma appreciated.

“You like it?”

“It’s cute.”

“I thought you would like it since it’s the same color as your car. The inside is just as nice.”

Ruby unlocked the front door, leading them inside. The house was sparse in its decorating but just as light and cheery as the exterior.

“Will it do?”

“Yeah. It’s great.”

“Good. Just letting you know the place does have heat but if it gets too chilly, there’s a space heater in the basement. There’s a washing machine down there too but it’s old so be gentle with it.”

“Okay,” Emma nodded, giving her an assuring smile. “Thanks.”

“And don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything. If you don’t feel like cooking, you’re always welcome at Granny’s. I’ll give you a discount.”

“Thanks Ruby. Really.”

“No problem,” she said as she walked back towards the door. She paused when she reached, looking back at Emma with a perplexed expression. “And good luck with your case. I hope everything works out for that woman who hired you.”

Emma gave forced another smile and thanked her again. She relaxed as soon as the door closed, dropping her head against the wall and sighing heavily.

It was going to be a long two months.

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

Pride and Joy

A/N: Part 7 in the “Hunting for Home” Series. 

Dean Winchester x Reader; Sam x Charlie x OFC (friendly)

Song: Pride and Joy by Stevie Ray Vaughn

Each chapter includes a song and dialogue prompt when requested.

Summary: The wait is on to see if her forgetful nature will prove Iris’ Prophecy to come true. In the meantime, Dean and Sam get a call for help from Charlie on a case that leaves her stumped. Deciding to take Iris on her first hunt, the whole lot heads out for what was supposed to be a routine job, but ultimately has serious consequences. Could an old friend be behind some of the goings on?

Warnings: Canon Divergence, mild violence, fluff, 

Words: 6403

Everything Tags: @his-paradox @sorenmarie87  @lefthologramdeer @grace-for-sale  @redm81 @becs-bunker  @docharleythegeekqueen

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“It’s been more than three weeks,” Iris paused, looked around to be sure no one was eavesdropping, “are you ever going to find out?”

You looked up from the book in front of you and gave her an exasperated expression. “Iris, three weeks isn’t nearly enough time. It’s usually a good month before you can take a test and get an accurate response.”

Iris sat back in a huff and crossed her arms over her chest. “This is torture, you know?”

“Then don’t think about it,” you said, not taking your eyes off the book. “I’m not.”

“Then you’re insane. Because it’s all I can think about and it’s not even my baby.”

“Will you please keep your voice down!?” you reprimanded. Now it was your turn to scan the bunker for any curious ears. Luckily the boys were off doing their own thing while you and Iris were taking on the task of research.

“Maybe I should just go home, I only seem to be irritating you lately,” she whined and sat back in her chair, hands clasped worriedly in her lap.

You closed the book and leaned on it, giving her an apologetic half smile.

“Iris, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been snippy lately. I am nervous, ok? I am petrified of being pregnant. Not only because of what you saw but the whole idea of pregnancy and a family was never really on my to-do list. Please, stay. We still have a lot to figure out and I really do need your help.”

“But you love him, don’t you?” she continued, ignoring the last part of what you said. “Why wouldn’t you want to start a family?”

“Yes,” you smiled wistfully, “I love Dean, very much. But our lives are not fit to raise children. No hunters I know, who have kids, wind up with their happy ending.”

“You could stop hunting,” Iris shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like the world will stop rotating if you stop hunting.”

“It’s not that simple. Hunting isn’t just something you do. It’s who you are. Being a hunter is a calling… a way of life. It's accepting that your life comes second to others most of the time. That your path is to monitor the things that go bump in the night. Parents who are also hunters will leave their kids behind well before they should. It’s happened to all of us.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, though her tone was less than sympathetic. “I guess I just don’t understand. I mean, you were raised in the life, I assume… why follow in their footsteps. Why not go to school, get a degree? Make a new path?”

“Because you will always end up getting sucked back in,” Sam said from behind you as he entered the room. “Trust me. I speak from experience.”

Iris looked concerned but didn’t continue to press the issue. “I’m gonna go grab something to eat.” She quietly got up and walked slowly from the room lost somewhere deep in thought. Sam watched her go and turned to you before heading to the archives.

“What’s up with her?” he asked, “She trying to convince you to quit hunting?”

“No, just curious as to why we do it and don’t stop. You know, considering the price of it all.”

It was Sam’s turn to be quiet now. He rifled through a few of the drawers, found what he was looking for, but didn’t close it right away. Instead, he leaned against the cabinet and asked, “Why do you keep doing it?”

“Same reason you do, Sam. Because we aren’t fit to do anything else.”

Sam’s brow furrowed as he considered your answer. Closing the drawer, he continued down into the library to retrieve the books he needed. You assumed the conversation was over and went back to the book that sat before you. But your mind couldn’t concentrate on research. You felt the need to be proactive; to go and hunt… something.

“Hey, Sam, any idea where that big brother of yours got off to?” you asked, sliding the large text away from you.

“Garage I think. Probably doing something to the car.”

“As long as it’s his car and not mine… Blanche is a very finicky girl. Doesn’t like just anyone touching her.”

Sam just shook his head. His attention was diverted by his cell phone buzzing in his pocket, and you noticed his eyes light up when he saw the caller.

“Charlie! Yeah, good. How’s it going?” he answered, his voice drifting off to nothing as he headed away to take the call.

You took this chance to leave quietly and go find Dean.

 You found him in the garage, his legs sticking out from beneath the Impala. The music was playing loud, and even obscured by the car, you could hear him singing along. Leaning against the door, you just watched him for a minute or two. Your hand absently floated down to your abdomen and wondered, if you were really growing a body snatcher. You tried to imagine co-parenting with Dean, and you kept coming back to the same conclusion, there’s just no way it could work…

Your train of thought was interrupted by Dean sliding out from beneath the car. He didn’t see you right away; nor did he stop singing. His voice mixed with that of Stevie Ray Vaughn’s made you smile. Bopping his head along and sliding across the garage floor to where his tools were, Dean kept on grooving, completely unaware of your presence.

 “Yeah I love my baby, heart and soul Love like ours won't never grow old…

She's my sweet little thang, she's my pride and joy She's my sweet little baby, I'm her little lover boy”

 “Are you singing about me or are you singing about your car?” you asked, unable to help yourself.

Dean whirled around on one boot heel, smiling, but completely embarrassed that he was caught mid-concert.

“Heyyyy… babe. What, uh, whatcha doing in here? Thought you and Iris were hitting the books.” He walked over and kissed you sweetly, most likely hoping you would forget what you saw when you had come in.

“We were. She needed a break, and I needed… something else.”

Dean raised his brows suggestively and gave you a knowing wink. “Gimme five minutes to get cleaned up and—”

“Ugh, no, perv. Well, at least night right now,” you laughed and playfully hit his chest. “But hold that thought for later.”

Frustrated, Dean sighed. You, trying not to bust out laughing at the pout now apparent on his face, tried to ignore it. “Actually, I need to kill something. Let’s find a hunt, or, I don’t know—there’s gotta be something that needs killing, right?”

“I got nothing right now. Sorry, sweetheart. What’s going on? Why the need to kill something?”

“Because we’ve been sitting around this place for a few weeks. We promised Iris a hunt before she headed home, and I think she’s ready to go. Besides, I miss being on the road. I love it here, you know that, but sometimes—”

“Its fine, I get it. I’ve been there, trust me. But do you think she’s really ready? It’s only been a few weeks.”

“Were you ready for your first hunt?” you asked, as Dean leaned against the other side of the door frame facing you.

“I guess not. Not really. But I certainly had more than three weeks experience and plenty of knowledge drilled into my head by the old man before I picked up a machete and went after something.”

“Well, Winchester, I say she’s ready. I’ll take responsibility for her. I think it’s time we give that girl a machete and point her in the right direction. It’s why she stayed, after all. She wanted to be prepared if something should come after her again.”

Dean scowled and pushed off the frame. Wiping the grease from his hands, he slowly made his way back to the Impala. Sliding the dolly out of the way, he closed up the toolbox and went about cleaning up the garage. You knew he was mulling it over and gave him the time to consider what you said. Not to mention that simply watching Dean walk around a room was a sight you could never tire of.

“I mean, I guess—”

“Hey,” Sam called out from just outside the entrance. “Charlie called. She’s got a case for us.”

You looked over at Dean and shrugged. “Guess that solves it, huh?”

  You and Iris rode in Blanche, while Sam and Dean led the way in the Impala. On the four-hour drive to meet Charlie, you broke down the case and tried to give her as many tips, and valuable information as you could.

“Iron is your friend here. Salt, too. Ghosts aren’t exactly hard to dispel,” you said, “but they can be a real pain in the ass if you can’t find their bones or the objects they’re attached too.”

“To burn? Right?”

“Yup, to burn.”

Iris nodded and took out the small notebook she’d been carrying around. You glanced over at her, scribbling away in the dimly lit interior; a hint of a smile touching your lips.

“You know, Sam and Dean’s dad kept a journal. Dean told me about it a while back. They grew up in the life, but their dad didn’t. Even though he was a Men of Letters Legacy, he didn’t know anything about this world ‘til after their mom died. Then he started the journal to track everything he learned.”

“And she was a hunter…” Iris mumbled more than asked.

“She was, yeah.”

“And how did she die, again?”

“Painfully,” you said and turned the wheel to follow the Impala into the parking lot of a small diner. “A demon, Azazel, he killed her. John made it his mission to kill Azazel.”

“Did he?”

You tilted your head and gave her a knowing look. “What do you think?”

“I think their dad is dead.”

“Right. He died, saving Dean. Dean was the one who killed the demon in the end.”

You turned off the engine and turned to face Iris who was again scribbling in her notebook. “Iris, I need to be sure this is what you want. This life is no joke, and while I doubt you’ll be digging for cases, I want to be sure that you want to do this before we involve you any further.”

“Y/N, I appreciate that, but I am ready. I need to do this before I try and go back home. I want to know how to protect myself and my family.”

You touched her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Alright then, here we go.”

 No one else picked up on it, but you saw Iris’ face light up when she saw Charlie. You had only met Charlie twice before this, both times were brief, but you liked her a lot and could easily see why the boys loved when she came around.

Iris looked as if she’d seen an angel; a good one, not the dicks you were used to dealing with. Her dark eyes sparkled like you hadn’t seen before and it finally made sense as to why Iris never mentioned a boyfriend or showed any interest in Sam (even though you may have suggested it a few times).

Dean made the formal introductions, Iris simply nodding in the redhead’s direction with a goofy smile as she shook her hand. Sam watched it unfold, too, and you could tell he was just as amused at Iris’ instant crush.

“Let’s eat, I’m starving,” Charlie said after hugging you hello. “I got the corner booth, so we could talk. Oh, Dean, the pie here… you have to—”

“Already on it,” he said starring dreamily into the dessert case, lightly biting his bottom lip. “I see a slice of blueberry with my name all over it.”

Once you were sat in the booth, food and coffee ordered, Charlie broke down the specifics of the case. A newly renovated house in town had gone through five buyers in the span of two years. At least one family member from each group that had bought it died on the premises. The local paper did a small blurb on the 100-year-old restored estate and that’s where Charlie caught the case.

“Honestly, I can’t find any reason for the haunting. If, that’s what it is,” Charlie explained and passed Sam the newspaper clipping.

“If?” Dean asked before shoveling a piece of pie in his mouth.

“I’m open to possibilities Dean. I have no solid proof it’s a haunting. But I don’t know what else it could be. Either way, there is something that keeps killing the people that move into that house. That’s why I called Sam. Thought you guys might have a different take on it.”

“Well, first things first. Let’s finish our pie, then head on over. Place empty?”

Charlie nodded.

“Alright then, we start at the empty house.”

  You and Iris were once again following the Impala. From the corner of your eye you could see her stealing glances at you, wanting to say something but kept stopping herself. Even though you had a feeling what it was, you let her debate on it a bit longer before finally just saying it for her.

“You like Charlie, huh?”

“How did—I mean. Damn. That obvious?”

“A little. At least to me.”

“She’s so pretty. Honestly the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” Iris mused wistfully as she watched the darkened streets and scenery go by. “I’ve never had a boyfriend or girlfriend. My parents wouldn’t let me date. Especially not a girl.”

“Why?”

“They’re from the old country. Dating didn’t happen until it was a marriage arrangement, and they are tolerable, but wouldn’t stand for their daughter to date or marry a woman.”

You wanted to say something, offer her a bit of comfort, but you saw Dean pulling off on the side of the road and followed.

“I’m sorry, Iris. I can’t imagine having to contend with that. But just know this… you are safe with us, there’s zero judgment here. Plus, Charlie likes girls better too. You absolutely have a chance. But, more on that later.”

You winked at her and a giant grin spread across her face. “Now, it’s time to go to work.”

With your entire entourage out of the cars, you grabbed the necessary equipment from the trunks and made your way to the back of the house. Sam picked the backdoor lock, while Dean stood watch. Not that there was any harm of being spotted, the closest neighbor was more than a mile away. The slightest wave of dizziness hit you, making you lean on Iris for support.

She looked at you curiously, “You alright?” she whispered.

You nodded and steadied yourself. Just as you did, Sam got the door open and you all went inside. Dean paused as he entered the house and lightly grabbed your shoulder.

“You look green. You ok?”

“Yeah. Maybe bad chow at the diner. I’m fine.”

He cradled the back of your hair and left a kiss on the top of your head. “Just be careful.”

You nodded and gave him a wan smile before continuing to investigate.

The main foyer was grandiose in size and décor. Even for it being remodeled recently, there were ornate gold fixtures that were more akin to something from the Victorian era, than modern day. A mix of pinks and soft greens were splashed through the paintings and curtains giving the room a pastel effect that seemed out of place.

A large, sweeping staircase led to at least two more levels that you could see, with a two-tier balcony overlooking the foyer. The air was heavy and ominous, and you were clearly not the only one to feel it. Iris stood close to you, shaking, but not shying away from whatever lay ahead. In the side of the staircase was a small door; the kind that would open to a closet or storage area.

Sam opened it cautiously and saw that it led to another set of stairs that descended to the basement.

Dean and Sam shared a silent exchange. They did a quick round of rock, paper, scissors; Dean lost, then hung his head in defeat.  

“Alright. Sam, you and Charlie head up to the second floor. Y/N, why don’t you take Iris to the third floor and start there. I’ll take the demonic door to Narnia. Let’s see what we can find and then report back.”

Everyone split off to their assigned locations and started looking around for what could be causing the trouble. An hour passed, because of the house’s size, you and Iris had only made it through half of the third story rooms. In the middle of the hallway, there was another smaller, oddly shaped door.

Giving it a tug, you realized it was locked. “A locked room always has something to tell you,” you said to Iris before taking a step back. Raising your foot, you gave it a good kick, but it didn’t budge.

“Let me try,” Iris said and approached the door. From her back pocket, she pulled out a lockpick set. Despite her shaky hands, she managed to get it open within several minutes time, leaving you more than a little impressed.

“Damn, Iris. You do learn fast,” you chuckled; a feeling of pride washing over you.

You drew your gun from your rear pocket and held it, along with your flashlight up to both see and prepare to defend yourself.

“Please tell me that gun is loaded with something other than bullets. You can’t really kill what is already dead.”

You stopped, turned to look at her and rolled your eyes. “Seriously? Give me a little credit. Bullets made with rock salt. It won’t get rid of a ghost, but it will get them off your ass for a bit.”

Carefully climbing the stairs, you could feel the temperature drop considerably. Enough that both you and Iris could see the breath expelling from your mouths.

“Stay close,” you whispered as you reached the landing and surveyed the attic.

The room was large, but sparse in what contained. A few pieces of furniture covered with dusty linens, an assortment of boxes in one corner and the broken remnants of a carousel horse.

Movement from the shadows behind the horse caught your eye and you motioned for Iris to stop. There was no noise, and it felt like no air in the room. Though you could still feel the chill, it was hard to breathe, like something was sucking the air from the atmosphere. All the hair on your arms and neck began to stand at attention, and a light buzzing began in your ears.

“Iris,” you said as calmly as possible, though it was a struggle, “go… go get the others, now.”

 Dean was emerging from the basement when he first heard Iris’ frantic call. He rushed into the foyer as she was bounding down the steps two-by-two and falling into him.

“What? What is it?!” he asked, holding her up by both shoulders. “Where’s Y/N?!”

Iris was breathless, trying to explain through gasps of much-needed air. “She’s… up… stairs… attic… door…”

“Dammit,” Dean cursed under his breath. “Here, sit. I gotta go up –”

“What happened?” Sam called down from the second-floor balcony. “She alright?”

“Sam, Y/N is in the attic, go see—”

A sound of wood breaking caused all the conversation to stop. Everyone looked up at the same time to see your body falling from the third-floor landing. Splintered pieces of wood from the railing reigned down beside you. Your back was racing towards the floor, but for Dean, everything moved in slow motion.

His body was paralyzed as he saw your arms flailing, feet scrambling to try and turn, to land face down so maybe you could brace yourself. But you couldn’t. Your body hit the ground with a sickening thud.

Dean was at your side within a second, checking for any signs of life he could find. Anything that would tell him you were alright.

“No... no, no, baby, come on…” he pleaded, tears filling his eyes while he lifted your head to try and stop the blood that was now all over his hands.

He felt for a pulse. It was there, weak, but there. Sam and Charlie were standing over you, Iris crouched on the ground, praying for a miracle. Time was of the essence, but still, everything was moving in a slowed down state.

“We need to get her to a hospital. NOW!” he barked, which seemed to kick everything back into motion.

Charlie hurriedly took off the button-down flannel she wore over her GamerGirl t-shirt and thrust it at Dean to use for pressure against the back of your head. He scooped you up as Sam rushed to get the front door open. Once back at the cars, Dean carefully laid you in the back seat of the Impala and motioned for Sam to drive. Iris and Charlie hopped in your car and followed close behind as Sam rushed you to the nearest hospital.

  There was a severe ache in your lower back. Anytime you tried to move, a ripple of searing pain tore through your head and down your neck. You were trying to wake up; you could feel your eyelids fluttering, doing their best to open.

Voices were muffled as if there were a thick layer of plastic or foam between you and the source. No idea how long you’d been struggling to wake up, you were tired but more than determined to open your eyes. You needed to see Dean, to be sure he was alright; you needed to tell him that you were alright.

The next time you tried to open them, they relented. You were drowsy, but you could see your surroundings after a minute or two adjusting to the room’s illumination. It wasn’t bright, just enough for you to make out the figure near your bed to be Dean.

The hospital room, and you knew it was that from the various beeping machines and horribly colored walls, was otherwise empty. Dean was asleep, his head fell to one side, hands clasped on his chest and lightly snoring.

You tried to speak, but your throat felt like you’d swallowed a bucket of sand. You moaned slightly as you tried to move, but it was enough to wake Dean from his nap.

The sight of you awake both elated and terrified him. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and leaned his elbows on your bed. Taking your hand that wasn’t stuck with an IV or attached to a wire, he raised it to his lips and kissed it before pressing it to his cheek.

“Welcome back,” he said roughly, his own voice still thick and full of exhaustion. “You gave me a hell of a scare, woman.”

You furrowed your brow and remembered how scratchy your throat felt. Looking at the pitcher of water, Dean took your cue and poured some into a cup, stuck in a straw and helped you take a sip. The water was blissfully cool on your tongue and helped clear up the dense taste of cotton laden throughout your mouth.

“Dean,” managed to rasp from your lips, but he just shushed you.

“Don’t try to talk. Just relax. I’m gonna get the doc, ok? She’s gonna want to know you’re awake.”

No, you wanted to scream, don’t go! But nothing came out. Instead, you shook your head slightly, despite the pain that it caused.

“I’ll be right back, promise,” he kissed your hand again and stepped out of the room.

Barely two minutes later he was back with your doctor, who was a very tall, leggy blonde and not at all what you expected. She introduced herself as Dr. Shari and curtly asked Dean to leave the room so she could give you an exam. He reluctantly complied but didn’t miss the opportunity to give her a dirty look as he left.

Once she performed her initial exam, which consisted of turning you on your side and hovering her hands over your back, she helped you get comfortable again and started asking questions.

“You took quite a fall,” she said, pulling up the chair beside your bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” you managed through the grit still lodged in your throat. “Tired.”

She leaned in closer to you, her amber eyes sparkling with mischief and an odd familiarity that you couldn’t quite place. “Makes sense. Do you remember anything about that day?”

You shook your head no.

“Do you know what today is?” she asked, making a little checkmark in her notes.

Again, you shook your head.

“To be expected. You hit your head severely when you landed, I assumed there would be some memory loss. You’ve been here for six days, Y/N. We were beginning to worry you wouldn’t wake up at all.”

“Six days?”

“Mhm. You also fracture some of your ribs, and an ankle, plus had bleeding on the brain. Thankfully they were able to stop it and there was no permanent damage. Of course, we’ll have to do some assessments, but right now, you and your baby’s prognosis—”

You felt your heart pounding and a lump form in your throat. Did she just say, “Baby?”

“You didn’t know? Best I could tell you’re about six weeks along. Honestly, I’m surprised it survived the fall. That must be a pretty strong little peanut M&M you got growing in there.”

There was something odd about her and her bedside manner, but the revelation of the pregnancy far outweighed the feeling gnawing at your gut.

“I’m six weeks pregnant?” you whispered more to yourself than to her.  But how was that possible? That meant you were pregnant before Crowley took you before Iris was even in your lives. The more you tried to wrap your mind around it, the more the pain radiated through your body.

“About that, yes. Would you like me to run the test again?” she asked with an air of indignance. “I will, but I assure you, you are pregnant.”

You shook your head in sheer disbelief and sighed shakily. The door to your room opened and Dean came back in loaded with an armful of snacks and drinks from the vending machine.

“Sorry to interrupt, thought you’d be done by now,” he said, grinning from ear to ear staring at you. “But, since you’re here, can she have this stuff? I mean, it can’t be any worse then what I saw wheeled by before.”

“We’re done. She’s going to be fine. Just needs to take it easy, heal those  bones and take care of every…thing.”

Dean furrowed his brow and looked confusedly between you and Dr. Shari. “Uh, what does that mean?”

“I’ll explain later,” you said, now eyeing the bottles of juice he’d brought you.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two to it. I’ll have them update your chart as far as your meals go and get you up and moving around in no time. We’ll try and get you out of here in the next day or so.”

When she was gone, Dean dumped all the snacks into his chair, leaving the cans of soda and juice on the nightstand. He sat beside you on the bed and caressed your cheek with his thumb.

Dean chuckled darkly; his face turned serious and pensive. “I really thought I lost you there for a minute. You can’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry, I wish I could tell you what happened… we were on a case, right?”

“Yeah. Turned out to be a poltergeist. Must have come after you once you sent Iris down to get us.”

“Iris… oh God, that’s right, she was with me! Is she alright? Did she get hurt?”

Dean smiled and tutted, “Shh, she’s fine, I promise. Sam took her and Charlie back to the house a couple of days ago and took care of it. Shouldn’t be hurting anyone anymore.”

Relief washed over you at knowing both Iris and Charlie were safe, and that no one else would die at the hands of that vengeful spirit.

“Dean, I need to tell you something,” you started, but a fit of dry coughs prevented you from talking. He got you the water and once you were done and dealing with the shards of pain it caused throughout your body, you drank it, much more greedily this time.

“Whatever it is, it can wait. Sam, Charlie, and Iris are here, they want to see you.”

“It can’t wait,” you said, feebly grabbing at his shirt before he could get up. “Dean, I--uh, I’m pregnant. From what the doc said, probably happened that night of our first date.”

Dean stared at you processing the information you just gave him. You didn’t know what to expect from him, but it certainly wasn’t laughing. He snorted a laugh or two through his nose at first, shaking his head in near disbelief. That soon turned to a full-on belly laugh where he couldn’t quite get out what he wanted to say.

“So, that night, Cas was right after all,” he tried to control his breathing and rubbed a hand over his stubbled cheek with a sigh of disbelief. “Pregnant? We’re--we’re gonna have a baby?” he had finally stopped laughing, but the grin remained on his face. It was hopeful and happy, making those cute little crinkles at the corner of his eyes appear.

“You’re not freaked out? I mean, with everything…”

Dean shook his head. “No, not anymore. After you got hurt, and I sat here watching you fight for your life, I prayed. I prayed harder than I ever had before, Y/N. I prayed for you to be alright, for us to have everything we ever wanted. If that meant throwing a kid into the mix, I told God I was ready. Cause, darlin’, if I do it with you, I can do anything.”

“Dean, this is going to be hard. Like, the hardest thing ever.”

“Eh, I don’t know. I think there have been a few things that were a bit harder… trying to put Lucifer in his cage. That was tough. Leviathans… yikes. Then there was the time—”

“Alright, I get it, smart ass.”

“No matter what it is, we can handle it. We got a team out there, you know. Sam, Charlie… hell, even Iris. They’re on our team. Cas, too. Whatever comes, we got this.”

Dean was confident in what he was promising you; it was written all over his face that he really believed what he was saying. You could also feel it; in his gaze, in his touch. If he could have faith in your ability to be parents, maybe you could too.

“You remember when you found me in the garage? Before we left?”

You nodded and smiled at the memory.

“I never did answer you…”

You furrowed your brow but couldn’t recall what you’d asked him.

“The song,” he said and moved closer to you. “You asked me if I was singing about you or the car.”

“Ohhh, right,” you snickered and remembered how cute he’d looked singing when he didn’t know anyone was watching.

“I was thinking about you. You really are my pride and joy. I’d do anything—” he paused and cleared his throat of the building emotion; smiling to cover up the intense feelings that were overwhelming him, “—anything for you.”

“Would you… sing it for me now?” you couldn’t help but ask and tease him a little in the process.”

“No,” he smiled and wagged a finger at you. “That’s where I draw the line. But, I can tell you that, I do love you, heart and soul. And, that a love like ours, will never grow old. You’re my sweet little baby, and I’m your—”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” you laughed, unable to bear to hear him speak any more of the lyrics with the face he was making. “Just for the record, I love you too.”

You could feel yourself healing just from him being there. The tension in your body began to lessen; even the pain that was present when you moved seemed to be diminishing as well. With Dean’s help, you sat up straighter in bed and felt your stomach rumble. Looking at the stash of snacks on the chair, you asked for him to open some of what he’d brought.

“I better get more, since there’s two of you now,” he teased as he handed you the bag of animal crackers. “Speaking of, do we tell everyone? I mean, is it too early?”

“I have no idea,” you said snatching the cookies from his hand. Your appetite was immediate and slightly ravenous. Trying to remember the doctor’s words, you ate them slowly, but you really wanted to just scarf the whole bag.

“I guess your exam went well?” he asked curiously, as he watched you tear into the bag of children’s cookies.

“Mhm, she said I’m healing well. A few broken bones, but otherwise great. Baby is strong and healthy.”

“Just never saw someone so hungry after being unconscious for almost a week.”

“I don’t know, I just know that after the exam she did on my back, I am feeling a lot better. Sore, and still tired, but I can move with minimal pain and I am hungry as hell.”

“Guess she’s got the magic touch, huh?” he said with a smile, but it wasn’t his real smile.

“Guess so. Hey, did you say the others were here? Grab them and let’s tell them the absolute insane news.”

“Yeah, alright,” Dean said, bending down to kiss you on the head. “I’ll be back.”

 Dean entered the hallway and found Sam, Iris, and Charlie talking lowly near the small waiting area. He raised his chin in a greeting and looked around for any people that may be within earshot.

“Hey,” he started and paused as a doctor passed by. “She’s up, and apparently very hungry. Good news, just a few fractured bones. Doc seems to think she could be out in a day or two.”

“What? That’s—that’s amazing,” Sam exclaimed looking between them. “A bit shocking, but amazing.”

Charlie examined Dean’s expression closely. “Something is up… what’s up?”

“I don’t know, but… she could barely move when she woke up. Couldn’t really talk. Pain was written all over her face. Doc comes in, kicks me out, and suddenly, she’s ready to walk on out of here and hit the nearest fast food joint.”

“Could you just be paranoid?” Iris asked. “I mean no offense, and it was a rough fall, but the human body can do some amazing things.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Iris, but in our world, when something seems fishy, its usually for good reason. There’s something very off about this, and that doctor. When we brought her in, they told us to expect the worse. Now, she’s ready to be discharged?”

“What could it be?” Sam asked, his mind racing through a million random facts on lore and monsters but coming up empty. “Who would want to secretly heal someone? I mean, other than angels—”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled and hung his head.

Charlie and Iris exchanged a confused glance, while Sam tried to understand what Dean could have realized. A thought struck him, even though it seemed impossible, but it was all his mind could keep coming back to.

“Dean… you think?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“But, he’s dead. We saw him die.”

“Did we?” Dean asked and immediately felt ridiculous for assuming that the death they witnessed had been real at all.

“It has been years, how would—why would—”

Dean shrugged and shook his head. “Listen, let’s keep this to us for now, alright? She’s got enough going on and doesn’t need to know.”

“Know what? Enough with the brospeak, guys. Wanna share with the rest of us who don’t speak Winchester?” Charlie asked, not without a bit of sarcasm.

“Gabriel,” Dean said with a sigh.

“The Trickster? But you saw him die?” Charlie mused, eliciting an eye roll from Dean.

“Did we?” he asked again, returning her sarcastic tone.

Iris shook her head softly. “I’m so lost.”

“Forget it for now,” Dean waved her off. “Just drop it for now and we’ll figure it out. Besides, there’s something you guys need to know.”

“She’s pregnant,” Iris said with a shrug. “I tried to tell her…”

“What?!” Sam and Charlie sang in unison, while Dean couldn’t hide the enormous grin that engulfed his face.

“Dude!” Sam grabbed and embraced his brother roughly.

Charlie punched Dean’s should and silently squealed with excitement.

From behind them, the door to your hospital room opened and they saw you hobbling out in your cast, rolling your IV pole with one hand and shaking the second bag of snacks into your mouth with the other.

“I thought you were coming back… heard the commotion out here and thought I’d come to you guys instead. Besides, I am starving. I wanted to try and catch you to see if there’s a pizza place around here or something.”

You watched as Dean, Sam, Charlie, and Iris all exchanged a knowing glance and then collectively looked back at you in amazement. It didn’t dawn on you that you shouldn’t be able to be walking around or be feeling as hungry as you did.

Assuming it was due to Dean not being able to stay quiet about the baby, you scowled at him. “I guess you couldn’t wait to tell them, huh?”

“Uh, no. Iris guessed it,” he said and slipped an arm around your lower back. He kissed your cheek and tried not to worry about your “speedy” recovery. “Let’s get you back in bed, and you can visit with the girls. Sam and I will go and grab some grub. Deal?”

You nodded enthusiastically and went back into your room. It was once your back was turned to the group, did they all get a communal appearance of concern across their faces.

“When we get her home,” Sam whispered to Dean, as Dean nodded in approval.

“When we get home,” Dean repeated and followed you into your hospital room.

TAGS ARE OPEN! Drop me a message if you want to be included!

[allenmendezsr]

Pet Rat Care And Training Guide.

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/pet-rat-care-and-training-guide/

Pet Rat Care And Training Guide.

 Buy Now

    From: Colin Patterson Boston, Massachusetts

Dear Fellow Rattie Lover,

What first got me so interested in pet rats almost 3 decades ago was their amazing antics. How could so much personality be balled up in such a small animal?

How could they — unlike a lot of other small animals — be so genuinely caring? And have such a strong gleam of intelligence in their eyes? And make me laugh for hours watching them play?

When I first went to my friend’s house one day in 1978 to meet his pet rat, I wasn’t so sure, since I had preconceived notions about rats.

But then when his rattie grabbed my pant leg with his little paws, my heart melted. Then my friend told me that his cute little rat wanted me to pick her up…

I lifted her up high, and the fuzzy little rat nuzzled her nose into my ear and…

I Became Hooked For Life

Since you’re at this page because you’re a rat owner or contemplating getting rats, I’m sure the story is similar for you.

Well, let me tell you… ever since my first acquaintance to rats, I’ve owned over 1,000 of these amazing animals. They have been great companions to me.

I learned everything I could about them, went into breeding, and compared notes with other respected rat breeders through the years.

For the past couple decades, I’ve been proud to do my part to help spread the popularity of pet rats. You might have heard me on the radio. (I’ve been a guest on many local interview shows on AM stations.)

I’ve even taken my trained rats onto local news shows in major markets such as Boston to show what my ratties can do.

And, as a breeder, I helped a lot of new owners of rats who’d just brought their ratties home. Because I’ve been in contact with rat experts and new owners, I’ve been a little saddened to discover that…

There Are A Lot Of Misconceptions About How To Properly Care For A Rat

You see, while rats make remarkable pets and bring so much happiness to the people around them, they need the right kind of home. They need the right kind of care.

You need to do certain things to make sure they’re as healthy as can be.

You need to do certain things to make sure they’ve got the perfect living environment, that both challenges their curiosity and keeps them entertained.

You can easily prevent any behavior problems… if you know what to do.

You see, ratties also need the right kind of training. Train them correctly, and you will have so much fun (as will they!). That’s because, as you probably know, rats are very intelligent animals. That means they have the potential to not only be well behaved, but to do some tricks that will dazzle your friends and family.

And the problem is that there’s not a whole lot of information out there about pet rats. You go to the pet store, and you’ll find plenty of books on gerbils, hamsters, and even mice. But not rats.

So I decided to write the book myself.

Because you know what the best part about rats is?

There’s An Easy Way To Take Care Of Your Rats And Have A Happy Life Together.

You can have a great relationship with your ratties. You just need to know how.

    Taking care of your ratties is easy and inexpensive. Pet Rats by Colin Patterson will show you how!

So I decided to package up my secrets in a guide that I call — what else? — Pet Rats: How to Easily Train and Care For Your Ratties…To Have a Happy Life Together.

Even though it’s concise — just 110 pages — it’s a complete guide. There’s not a lot of fluff or filler. Sure, you may find other books that take up space with pictures. Mine doesn’t. Instead it’s packed with useful information.

Plus I wrote it in plain, conversational English that’s easy to follow. As a complete system, it’ll reveal to you everything you need to know about your pet rats.

Here are just some examples of what you’re about to discover…

How to make your pet rats feel comfortable — not just in their cage, but in your home too! (Plus: how to make them comfortable cuddling with you, even if you’ve got a rat who’s the “stand offish” type!) (Page 51)

All of the health info you need to keep your rat healthy and living a long time. It’s all in my guide, formulated after nearly 3 decades of experience. There’s stuff in my guide that vets don’t even know. (By the way, imagine the money you’ll save if you can cut your vet visits down 90%…because you’ve got the all the information you need…right at your fingertips!) (Chapter 6)

How to introduce your friends to your pet rats so that they like your ratties every bit as much as you do. As you’ve probably noticed many times, a lot of people have prejudices about rats. There’s a right way and a wrong way to do this. (Page 52) For example, a lot of people don’t like the distinctive tails rats have. But use these 20 words, and you can make even your most squeamish friends comfortable with your rats. (Page 52)

Do these 8 specific things and even the shyest rat will start looking forward to your time together. (Page 50)

The #1 key that you MUST know about your pet rats. Apply this secret, and your rat will become as cuddly with you as even the most snuggly dog. (Page 63)

An easy step you can take each day that will prevent severe problems later on. (Page 55)

Four important rules you must heed to avoid keeping your small child from accidentally KILLING your pet rat. The most heart-wrenching experience you can ever has to walk into the living room to find your child screaming and crying because they played too roughly with your rat, killing it! It’s even worse when you know you could have easily prevented it following these simple steps. (Page 53)

The kind of cage that’s best for your rattie. (Page 29)

Find out the 7 “magic tricks” to keeping your little ones healthy throughout their entire lives. (Page 82)

Are you tired of clipping your rat’s nails — which often results in pain for your rat when you clip too much off (and hit a nerve)… not to mention stress for both of you? I reveal a much easier way to keep your rat’s nails trimmed. It requires NO work on your part, your rat loves it, and it’s very cheap. (Page 81)

How to train your rat to stand and walk on his hind legs. Your friends will be dazzled! (Page 69)

How to prevent bumblefoot, a painful sore that rats often get from their cages. (Page 94)

The special ingredient (mixed with water) that will prevent your little mischievous friends from chewing on furniture or wires when they’re out of their cage. (This tip can save their lives!) (Page 57)

Learn how to read your rat’s non-verbal body language. You’ll know exactly what your rat is trying to tell you, even though he can’t talk! (Page 19)

How to discipline your rats correctly, so that they’ll quickly learn when they’ve done something that you think is “not okay.” They’ll quickly learn what it means when you say “no.” (Page 58)

Did You Know You Can Train A Rat To Use A Litter Box Every Time, With No Exceptions, In 7 Days Or Less?

It makes cage clean-up much easier, giving you more QUALITY time to spend with your rat. Plus it gives your rats a more pleasant living environment, making them happy. I reveal the step by step instructions on page 50.

That’s just the beginning. You’ll also discover…

The stress-free way to handle your female rat’s pregnancy so that she gives birth and raises the healthiest babies possible. (Page 98)

Revealed: The number one reason your pet rat feels shy around you. (Page 50)

A checklist of things to take care of and think about before bringing home your pet rat. Even if you already have pet rats, this information will improve their lives dramatically. (Chapters 2 and 3)

The place you should never go to get a pet rat. (Page 15)

Get introduced to the different types of rats, to get an idea of what breed would be right for you. (Page 21)

How to travel with your pet rat. From my years of trial and error, you’ll learn to make your rat’s traveling experience as smooth as possible. (Page 77)

One of the most heart-wrenching injuries is when a rat’s tail comes off. You’ll learn what you can do to prevent it from happening, and what you can do about the injury to reduce your rat’s pain and keep him alive. (Page 93)

Toys you can make yourself (using common household items) that are simple, cheap, and that your rats will love. The money you save from these secrets alone are worth far more than the cost of this guide. (Page 38)

Which foods could poison your rat. It’s important to take note of these, because without knowing better, you might mistakenly think these are good for your rat. (Page 35)

If your pet rat escapes… set your mind at ease. There’s a no-hassle way to get your rattie to come back, and it works every time. (Page 75)

Two important things to remember about food and water that will prevent loads of rat illnesses. (Page 25)

Did you know that you can get your rat to come to you when you call… just like you can train a dog to do? There’s a special trick to it. (Page 67)

A little-understood secret that will keep your pet rat’s home free from odors and dust. (Page 42)

How to get your rat to WANT to exercise. It’s good for him and doesn’t need to be a chore. (Page 59)

The special ingredients, recommended by scientists, that can help you introduce your rats to other animals. (Page 49)

A handy chart showing the foods to give your rat in abundance, the foods to give in moderation, and the foods to avoid altogether. You won’t need to worry anymore about whether you’re feeding your rat nourishing foods, since you’ll know exactly what to give him. (Plus, even if your rat is finicky, you’ll have lots to choose from!) (Page 35)

Four tips you MUST follow to prevent your rat from overheating (and possibly DYING) on a particularly hot day. (Page 83)

The respiratory illness that affects both rat and human (and it can be fatal for rats!). Learn what to do if your rat comes down with it in order to save her life. (Page 88)

Find out what toys your rat loves. This is more important than you think, since the wrong toys can be harmful not only to your rat’s health, but to your furniture! (Page 38)

Are you or your family allergic to rats? You’ll discover the solution on pages 24 and 25.

Discover the best type of bedding to use. Materials used can make a world of difference when it comes down to your rat’s comfort level. But the freshness, absorbency, and ease of cleaning will vary from one material to another, so you’ll discover the pros and cons of each to discover winning combination for you and your little friends. The wonderful thing is that the best bedding material is inexpensive! (Page 32)

The secret to teaching your rats just about every trick, because it makes them want to obey you! Once you know this powerful secret, you’ll be astounded by how simple it is. (Page 63)

15 easy tips to make your house absolutely rat proof. (Page 55)

The minimum size a rat’s cage should ever be. Less than that, and your rat can become stressed out and aggressive. (Page 29)

A step-by-step guide for finding the right vet for your ratties. (Page 83)

Why it’s so important to never take your rat for a walk in the outdoors. (Page 60)

Complete how-to instructions to build a maze and five types of obstacle courses for your pet rats. The instructions are easy to follow, use common, inexpensive materials, and will have you laughing for hours at your ratties’ joyful antics as they run through your maze and obstacle course. (Page 71)

How to make your pet rat sit on your command. (Page 68)

How to groom your pet rat the correct way. Not only will this make her into a beautiful little rattie, but it will also be nice, special time you have together if you do it like this. (Page 79)

One of the main advantages of pet rats is that unlike with other rodents, it’s extremely rare for them to bite you. But there are 8 scenarios where they can become aggressive. See exactly how to handle them so that your rats never bite. (Page 46)

And That’s Just A Small Sample Of What You’ll Discover With My System

Do you know what the exciting part is? That you can be learning these secrets to having a healthy, happy, well-trained pet rat in just two minutes from now.

That’s because I’ve made my guide digital… which means you can have it instantly! There’s no need to wait day after day for a book to arrive in the mail. And there’s no need to wait in line at a bookstore.

Instead you’ll get immediate access to this valuable information so you can start applying it right away.

If you haven’t ever downloaded anything off the Internet before, don’t worry — I’ll give you easy directions. (Even my 85 year-old father-in-law — who has a phobia of computers — was able to download and read the material without a hitch.)

Plus I’m here to help you. If you have trouble, just shoot me a quick email, and I’ll help you get your copy ASAP.

Click here to secure your copy of my system and have a wonderful relationship with your pet rats (immediate download)!

Imagine How Amazed Your Friends Will Be When They See Your Pet Rats Doing Neat Tricks

If you’re like a lot of pet rat owners, right now you have trouble getting your friends to even come see your ratties — mostly because of all those negative popular images of domestic damsels in distress climbing on kitchen chairs shrieking, “Ekk! A rat.”

When you get my guide, you’ll dazzle your friends and family as they see your rats doing amazing tricks like walking on their hind legs, kissing you on command, and perching on your shoulder!

Before, it would have taken you many months to have your rats trained enough to do these tricks. Not to mention that you’d still be confused about how to care for your rats and have a great relationship with them.

But my guide makes it really simple for you.

Please take a look at what some of my readers have said (pasted from their emails exactly as they wrote it)…

“Hi Colin, Three months ago I purchased a pet male rat I call Freddy.At first he was very aggressive. He was nipping me and he was a little crazy.I grew to really care for him.The moment I purchased your book. Everything changed for the better.I used all your tools.All he does now is kiss me. I was thinking of getting him a mate.I am a Little afraid of getting a female in fear she will get pregnant.I am also a little scared to get a male thinking they will fight. Freddy is about five months old. Maybe it would be best to just leave well enough alone.I really appreciate your opinion.Your book was a real life saver for Freddy and I.I tell everyone who has a rat they have to buy your book.

Thank you Again=”

– Shannon Brancato Oceanside, California

“I am so thankfull for this guide. I just wish I would have had this 10 years ago when I first had ratties as pets.”

– Tracy Marsden

“I purchased your book almost a year ago and it has been a wealth of wonderful information.”

– Elizabeth Short

“Colin, I really liked your book because it taught me what I need to know to train my little babies. I’ve already taught them all the stand command. It was really cool when my friend came over today and saw my rats stand in unison.”

– Jennifer Douglas New York, NY USA

“Your book is well organised and easy to understand. I like that it covers all, from the right cage, to how to train, to how to feed. I learned a great amount from your book and wish you the best of luck, Colin.”

– Michael Martin London, UK

How Much?

Well, let’s start with this: how much would you pay to have a joyful and wonderful life with your pet rats?

How much would it be worth to you to make their lives as good as they can be?

How much would it be worth to be able to extend the lifespan of your pet rats by 6 months or more?

Well?

If you’re like most pet rat lovers, the answer is probably, “A lot.”

Would it be worth $500 to know that almost overnight you can have your rats eating the healthiest diet possible, to live as long as they can?

Of course you know that I’m about to tell you it doesn’t cost $500… that’s not what I’m asking you.

I’m asking you: if I could show you how to have a ret rat that’s happy, healthy, well-trained, and loves you dearly… would that be worth $500?

You and I are rattie lovers; we both know the answer is, “OF COURSE!”

So when I tell you that I’m only going to charge you a modest investment of just $29 for my guide — and that you can be reading it 2 minutes from right now (even if it’s 2 AM!) — you’re going to just go ahead and order, right?

Click here to secure your copy of my system and have a wonderful relationship with your pet rats (immediate download)!

I know when you get my guide, you’ll be just as happy as the customers above who wrote me. If not, I want you to ask me for your money back.

That’s right…

You Can Just Say “Maybe” And Try My Pet Rat Care & Training System Without Risk For 8 Weeks…

In fact, you can check out my system for free if you want. That’s because I offer an unconditional 200% money-back guarantee.

That means you can grab my guide, Pet Rats: How to Easily Train and Care For Your Ratties…To Have a Happy Life Together, with an open mind, knowing that you’re using it risk-free.

If you’re not completely delighted with the way it improves the quality of life for your pet rats (and for you!), I’ll refund every penny to you — no questions asked. You don’t even need to give a reason — your word is good enough.

But wait a minute, you must be wondering. 200%?

That’s right…

A 200% Money-Back Guarantee.

I know. That sounds crazy.

The truth is this: since you’ll be downloading this guide onto your computer, if you ask for a refund, I have no way to “get my guide back.” In fact, some people will come to this site with the full intent of getting a refund and ripping me off.

I don’t think you’ll do that, because as a lover of ratties, I think you’re honest and good for your word. But here’s my guarantee: grab my guide to pet rats, take your time reading it, discovering its secrets, and applying the enormous knowledge you’ll gain.

If at any time in the next 8 weeks — even on day 56 — you decide you want your money back, I’ll give it to you. Right away. On the spot. With no hard feelings.

Plus, you’ll have the guide. That means you’ve gotten both the insider information from my guide and the money — and that is 200%.

I only make this crazy guarantee because I know that 99% of people involved in the world of pet rats are fair and honest…

…and once you’ve tried my system — and you feel totally satisfied after enjoying a new, stronger relationship with your pet rats…

…and you’ll realize that even $500 would have been a steal of a price…

You won’t ask for a refund.

Plus You’ll Receive, At No Extra Cost…

Bonus #1:

A special section on how to emotionally cope with the loss of your rattie. By far the toughest challenge any pet rat owner has is facing the death of their little baby. You’ll learn about the mourning process, what you need to know about putting your rattie to sleep, and learn about the options for what to do with your pet rat’s body — burial, cremation, etc. (A $19 value.)

Bonus #2:

A guide to rat breeding. You’ll discover the ins and outs — what you need to know before going into breeding, what it involves, etc. It’ll make a task that’s confusing into not so much of a challenge. I’ve been a pet rat breeder for many years, and I’ll let you in on my insider secrets. (A $19 value.)

The Free Bonuses Are A Combined $38 Value…

What’s the catch? That this offer is for an extremely limited time. Here’s why.

The bonuses by themselves are valuable enough to sell separately. And I’m strongly considering doing that soon. There are only so many copies of these bonuses that I’m going to give out for free.

Once this special trial period is over, the offer of free bonus materials will simply vanish. I’m sure you can understand.

Download My Guide — You’ll Be Glad You Did

You can spend the rest of your day with your pet rats like the you did yesterday, wondering if there’s more you can learn about them that will make life better for them.

Or you can get some peace of mind:

Knowing that you’ve learned about the best foods to feed your rats to keep them healthy.

Enjoying the pleasure of training your ratties, setting up crazy obstacle courses, and giving them a fun life.

Having an improved relationship with your rats because you know so much more about what makes them tick.

If you’re still just thinking about getting pet rats, you’ll know that you’ll be able to take great care of them.

After you enter your details into the secure server, you’ll be taken to a special download page. Then when you start reading my guide, the improvements in your life with your rats will be nothing short of electrifying… or you’ll get your money back.

So why not grab my guide while it’s still fresh on your mind? There’s no risk here. You’ve got nothing to lose — and you’ll gain a better life for you and your little ones.

Click here to secure your copy of my system and have a wonderful relationship with your pet rats (immediate download)!

Yours Truly, Colin Patterson Fellow Pet Rat Lover

P.S. If you don’t take me up on this special offer (a money-back guarantee and free bonuses!) before it vanishes — and if you never get to try the secrets contained in my guide — what will ever change about the quality of life for you and your ratties?

Click here to secure your copy of my system and have a wonderful relationship with your pet rats (immediate download)!

© 2005- Spring Water Publishing

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[crohnsdigest]

Tips for Traveling With IBS /Crohns Disease

Don't let your IBS symptoms keep you from seeing the world or visiting relatives. With planning and perseverance, you can have a wonderful vacation. Visions of vacations dance in many heads at this time of year. But if you're one of the estimated 58 million people in the U.S. with irritable bowel syndrome (IBS), the idea may sound torturous. It's bad enough to worry about recurring symptoms of bloating, gas, stomach cramping, constipation, or diarrhea when in your own hometown. What about when in unfamiliar territory? Plus, your digestive system may be so finicky that any changes in routine may aggravate symptoms. Such worries prevent many people from taking out-of-town trips. In a survey of 1,000 Americans, 28% of respondents with IBS-like symptoms avoided travel at least once in the past year, reports the International Foundation for Functional Gastrointestinal Disorders (IFFGD). Nonetheless, IBS patients need not be deprived of holiday travel. "If it's something that you're really looking forward to doing, by all means, do it," says Nancy Norton, the IFFGD's president and founder. "We talk to people (with IBS) all the time who have been apprehensive about traveling, but they go and let us know they've had a wonderful time."CONTINUE READING BELOW With courage, preparation, and determination, it is possible to explore new places with IBS. Perhaps the trip, if relaxing, could even have a therapeutic effect. Of course the hassles of travel, such as lost luggage, unhappy kids, or a bout of traveler's diarrhea, could work against that. But even then, you may be able to use the same stress management strategies used for daily pressures at home. Stress busters include eating a well-balanced diet appropriate for your IBS, getting enough sleep and exercise, meditation, and doing something enjoyable. Reducing stress may, indeed, be one of the crucial elements to a good retreat. "There's definitely a benefit to taking a vacation, but people need to plan it so that it's not too stressful," says Sheila Crowe, MD, a gastroenterologist and spokeswoman for the American Gastroenterological Association (AGA). "Don't feel like you have to see all the sights in the city. Maybe just enjoy a leisurely breakfast, and then only see two sights instead of four." It's important to do things you want to do rather than things you feel you ought to do, such as visiting everything and everyone, says Crowe. Resist over-planning and leave room for spontaneity. Yet plan enough so that you know there are safe places to go to the bathroom. Here are a few more tips from the experts on how to ease travel with IBS:

Before Your Trip

Choose a destination that you will enjoy. "Anyplace calm and relaxing is probably good," says Edward Blanchard, PhD, professor of psychology at the State University of New York at Albany. He says a frenetic, multicity tour of Europe might be more difficult for IBS patients.Check travel advisories for different parts of the world. This is a smart thing to do even if you don't have IBS. The CDC web site (www.cdc.gov) has a traveler's health section. It contains information about disease risks (such as travelers' diarrhea), vaccinations, and other prophylactics. Make sure to visit the site well before your trip as some immunizations take weeks to become effective.Ask a lot of questions. Knowing the who, what, when, where, and how of your journey can help avert stress and anxiety. Allow enough time to get to places to avoid rushing and to have time to assess a situation. "The less surprised one is, the better," says Leslie Bonci, MPH, RD, author of the American Dietetic Association Guide to Better Digestion. "The only surprises should be delightful surprises because you're in a beautiful place, or you discover a fantastic buy on silver." Some questions to ask include: Is there an early check-in for the hotel if I arrive in the morning?Is there a late check-out if I need one?Is there a refrigerator for my own snacks in the hotel?Is there a restaurant on the premises? What is on the menu?Are there grocery stores and restaurants in the area?Will I be able to request special meals in the plane, hotel, or restaurant? Investigate the bathroom situation. Is there a toilet on the bus? Are there designated times when airplane passengers cannot leave their seats? Will I need special coins or to buy toilet paper at certain restrooms? The answers to these questions could help better plan lavatory trips. Some IBS patients request aisle seats rows closest to the bathroom. Others feel more comfortable driving to their destination so they can stop as many times as they want. When driving, or out and about in an unfamiliar place, it may help to know the location of the nearest bathroom. Norton says people have checked the Internet for bathroom diaries and have mapped out the location of large chain bookstores with restrooms. Palm Pilot users have used Vindigo, a high-tech directory service. Learn how to say key words if traveling to a foreign country. Besides knowing how to say 'Where's the bathroom?' it will also help to be able to ask the locals things like: 'Can you make (a dish) without ...' and 'I can't tolerate. ...' You fill in the blanks with your particular food sensitivity or intolerance. This may mean going to a local library, a university, or private companies such as Berlitz for consultation on language, says Bonci.Be up front with your travel companions. The destination may not matter as much if people are honest with tour guides and travel buddies. "People have gone through bus tours of Europe, and they let (guides) know in the very beginning that if they needed to stop for a restroom, they would appreciate it," says Norton, noting that people are usually very understanding.Pack essentials. Bring a carry-on bag with extra clothes, medications, fiber supplements, bottled water, and snacks. You will want all of this with you in case your luggage gets lost and when there are no good food choices in transportation terminals. For emergencies, it will help to have handy your doctor's contact information and possible sites for medical care at your destination.

During Your Trip

Premedicate. For a long trip, it's a good idea for IBS patients with diarrhea to take antidiarrheal medicines such as Imodium or Lomotil if they know they can tolerate it, says Crowe. Some people become too constipated with the drugs. Crowe says IBS patients need to pay attention to their symptoms and to bring their usual medications and fiber supplements. "You want to have them in the plane or train, where you can't purchase these things," she says, noting that some destinations may also not have these drugs readily available. There are travelers, for example, who experience gas with changes in altitude. For these people, Crowe recommends bringing antiflatulents such as Gas-X. Other drugs that might give relief, depending on symptoms, include antacids, prescription antispasmodics (such as Levbid and Bentyl), and laxatives (such as Lactulose and MiraLax). Visit your doctor to find out the appropriate treatment for you. Keep meals as consistent as possible. Try to keep to the same serving amount and to the same number of meals. Many people end up miserable because they don't eat or drink enough, they gorge, or they eat foods that aren't agreeable to their systems. "Somebody might say, 'Hey, I didn't snack because I'm in a hotel room and there's nothing available,'" says Bonci. To this, she offers the following solution: Bring healthy snack foods you can tolerate, such as nuts, crackers, trail mix, a sports bar, or yogurt. They are better options than the fare offered in vending machines and transportation hubs. Watch your food and drink choices. To keep hydrated, opt for bottled water or Gatorade instead of carbonated beverages. It's better to buy liquids and other edibles from a hotel restaurant or grocery store instead of small fruit stands. Americanized guts may not be able to tolerate some foods in these places, says Bonci. If you decide to try a new food, experiment in small amounts, and try only one new thing per day, advises Bonci. However, Norton says vacation isn't a good time for people to experiment. "Stick with foods you're comfortable with," she says. Don't despair if IBS symptoms flare up. "I would invite people to think of vacation as almost like a scientific experiment," says Mary-Joan Gerson, PhD, a clinical psychologist in private practice in New York. "That gives people a sense of control." She suggests IBS patients ask themselves, 'What kind of IBS person am I?' Then try to learn something from the answers. In addition, Gerson says vacation is the perfect time to experiment with meditation and its healing properties. "If you start a simple type of meditation a week before (vacation), you can shift into that state at a moment's notice, even for 5 minutes somewhere, whether at a beach or pool-side," she says. Bonci recommends different foods, depending on the symptoms. Chamomile tea has an antispasmodic effect for stomach cramping. For constipation, she suggests traveling with fiber supplements or a box of ground or milled flaxseed. The dietary supplement can be sprinkled on salads, cooked vegetables, or cereals. To ease diarrhea, try fruit pectins such as Sure-Jell or Certo. "Fruit pectins are used to make jelly - to make jelly gel - but they also have a wonderful effect of slowing the emptying from the gut," says Bonci. Oatmeal can apparently do the same thing. The good news is that both oatmeal and fruit pectins come in small, easily transportable packets. While on vacation, it is, indeed, important to look out for your personal needs with IBS. After that, just try to take whatever comes your way in stride. Remember, traveling with any ailment takes some effort, but with IBS, it is entirely possible to take an out-of-town journey, and have fun. But make sure you first check in with your doctor for appropriate treatments. Bon voyage! https://crohnsdigest.net/crohns-disease-toiletriestravel/ Read the full article