#by path i mean. highway. corner of it? oh - sidewalk.

[crescentmp3]

fell today. i am literally a 2cm tall little guy and i am being met with such hard challenges

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭 (𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚! 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨) 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙼𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊! 𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 (𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣) × 𝙼𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎)

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝙼𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊 𝙰𝚄

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3.8K

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚓𝚘𝚋, 𝚐𝚞𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡 (𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜) 𝙳𝚘𝚖! 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 × 𝚂𝚞𝚋! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @little-precious-baby @yunhoiseyecandy @galaxteez @yunhofingers @brie02 @deja-vux @multidreams-and-desires @rvse-miingi

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Swerving into the sidewalk, the female took less than 5 seconds to fit herself into the passenger seat and slam the door behind her. Stepping on the accelerator, her partner's eyes looked firmly forward as he maneuvered himself through the alleys to safely get them out of the city without having to use the main highways. Once making sure no one was following them, they both breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful that the mission had run smoothly.

"Got it?" The male asked.

Reaching into her cleavage, she took out a folded piece of paper and held it in front of him, the male slightly cringing when he saw where it had came from.

"Like taking candy from a baby." She snorted before stuffing the piece of paper in the glove compartment.

As if on cue, the small screen on the dashboard began blinking, letting them know someone was trying to contact them. Pressing the answer button, the driver looked momentarily to see the face of their leader pop up.

"Tell me neither of you got your limbs torn off." He voiced his concern.

"We're on our way back already, give us an hour and we'll be there."

Satisfied at the success of the mission, the platinum blonde male looked over at the woman who simply had her arms crossed over her chest, staring daggers at him.

"Thank you for your sacrifice Y/N." He smiled at her.

"Oh shove it up your ass Hongjoong. It was embarrassing enough to dress like a whore let alone have some middle aged man grope my body. I would rather be bored to death walting in a car like Yunho did." She was fuming, still disgusted at the ordeal she had to go through, even her partner grimaced slightly when he thought about what she had to go through.

"But it was a success right? Thanks to the fast acting sedative Yeosang gave you." Hongjoong tried to reason with her.

"Whatever, as long as she doesn't have to do those dirty jobs again I think we're fine." Yunho piped up, unconsciously gripping the steering wheel a little too tight.

Hongjoong held back a smirk threatening to form across his lips.

"All right then. I expect you both here very soon."

With the screen going black, the pair just sat there in silence, one focused on the road while the other opted for looking out the window, having no other amusement besides the endless trees surrounding their path.

"Why even would you care about me doing jobs like this?"

Yunho was not expecting her to talk let alone ask a question like that out a nowhere.

"What do you mean?"

Y/N rolled her eyes.

"You know exactly what I mean. What you said to Hongjoong before, why should you care about me having to do these kinds of jobs?"

Yunho stayed quiet, pondering over his next words.

"I just....working so long with you I naturally feel an attract- a concern!...over your well being." He quickly corrected himself.

"I just think you're too talented and too good at your job to have to sink down that low just because Hongjoong wants to use the easy way."

Y/N had an amused look on her face as she listened intently to Yunho's words. Scanning him all over, she wasn't going to lie she found him extremely good looking and she'd be lying if she hadn't thought about fucking him more than once. She had often heard the snickers and teasing San and Wooyoung often directed at him too and she was more than curious to find out whether the rumors were true or not.

"You know what I think Yuyu?"

The way he suddenly straightened up and swallowed hard at the nickname did not go unnoticed by her. Taking off her seatbelt, she leaned over to him, her breath ghosting over his ear.

"I think you're jealous." She giggled when he moved his face away from her proximity.

"Why would I be jealous?" He cleared his throat, keeping a straight poker face one.

With a sly smile, Y/N began unbuttoning the top of his shirt.

"Cause some rival actually got to do what you wish you could do but are too scared to."

Yunho inhaled deeply when he felt her nose pressed up against his neck, lips dragging themselves up his jaw.

"And what exactly would that be?" Although he seemed nonchalant about her behavior, truth was he desperately wanted to know just how far the dirty bastard had gotten with his gorgeous partner.

"Oh you know the usual..... a kiss, with tongue involved." As she said that she made sure to lick the shell of his ear.

"A hand in between someone's legs, cupping a certain member."

Yunho let out a groan when he felt her hand squeeze at his growing erection, palming him through his trousers.

"Or fingers sliding up thighs and inside a little black dress."

Yunho's eyes widened significantly at her description.

"How far did they go?" His knuckles were turning white from how hard he was gripping the wheel.

"That's not important-"

"How far did he go?" The sudden raise in his voice startled her slightly, but it also meant that perhaps her plan was working.

"If you really must know.....he got 2 fingers in before passing out cold."

Y/N could see a tiny vein poking out from the side of his neck, telltale sign that he was really trying hard to not loose his temper. Looking away from her, she heard him mutter a soft 'damn him' before turning his eyes back on the road. Wanting to further anger him, she decided to throw in a little lie in her story.

"Had to readjust my dress after he was knocked out and wipe some of the spit off my chest."

Yunho's reaction was instant as he gripped her hand that up to now had still been groping at his cock, crushing her fingers in his palm.

"What do you mean wipe spit off? He saw your chest?" His pale complexion was suddenly turning a light pinkish and red shade.

"Saw, kissed, licked, bit the girls, you get the gist."

Releasing his harsh grip on her hand, Yunho took a deep breath, trying to remain calm but no longer being able to hold himself back from doing something he had been wanting to do for a long time.

"Take off your panties and spread your legs for me." He suddenly ordered her.

Y/N was so taken aback by his instructions that she looked at him as if he was crazy.

"What?"

Rolling his eyes, Yunho repeated himself.

"Take off your panties and spread your legs for me."

Turning on the cruise control on the car, Yunho looked over at Y/N, eyes burning with anger.

"Don't fucking make me repeat myself."

Y/N wanted to laugh at how silly he sounded, which he noticed how she held back a snort and he did not appreciate it.

"What if I don't want to?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I didn't ask what you wanted, I gave you an order."

Wanting to further test him, Y/N smirked.

"Why don't you make me?"

"Gladly."

She shuddered when she heard the sound of a gun cocking and then gulped when Yunho held it right in front of her face.

"Now babygirl....let's try this again. Those panties, off." He said as he pointed the gun down at her legs.

Reaching into her dress, Y/N peeled her underwear down her legs, embarrassed about the wet patch that was in between them caused by her teasing on her partner. Looking over, Yunho chuckled when it did not go unnoticed by him. With one hand still on the steering wheel, he used the hand that held the gun and dragged it across her thigh in slow, circular motions.

"Spread those pretty legs for me now."

Tapping the inside of her thigh, the corners of his lip curled when he heard her shift in her seat, signaling that she was obeying him. Taking a peek, he was not satisfied with the results.

"Spread them out as far as your able to baby, and lift up that dress of yours. Let me see how wet your little cunt is." The gun he held was already lifting part of her dress up.

Sitting up, Y/N lifted her dress up to her waist before spreading her legs out, feeling the cool air breeze at her glistening folds. Taking his eyes off the road for a moment, Yunho admired the beautiful picture sitting next to him, all pliant and awaiting further instructions.

"Fuck you have a really pretty pussy."

Y/N bit down on her lip when she felt the barrel of his gun press against her clit before dragging her her folds, collecting much of her already formed arousal.

"What if I just shoved it inside that filthy hole of yours? Fuck you with my gun? You'd probably like that wouldn't you?"

Y/N gasped when she felt the gun poke at her entrance, her walls already tightening themselves. But instead Yunho simply pulled the gun back, bringing it up to his face before licking off the juices left over. Y/N couldn't keep her mouth from falling open slightly as she watched him practically eat up her slick. Setting the gun down on one of the cup holders, Yunho snaked his hand in between her legs, thumb pressing against her nub which had her inhaling sharply.

"Such a sensitive little one....and so responsive."

His thumb began to draw circles around her clit, flicking against it occasionally. Y/N couldn't understand how he could still be focused on maneuvering the wheel without getting distracted or being lazy with the movements on her mound. The way his thumb worked her clit was so precise, so skilled, as if he knew exact what to do to get her more and more worked up with each brush of his thumb. When he moved his thumb away it was only so he could slide one of his long and slender fingers inside her.

"Oh fuck." Y/N's hands gripped at the arm rest as she felt his finger reach so deep in her.

"What never had something this long in you before?" He snickered amusedly.

Slowly, he pumped his finger in and out the her, loving the way her walls seemed to suck him back in whenever he pulled out. Y/N decided to close her eyes and just enjoy as her longtime partner invaded her most intimate part, first with one finger which was soon joined by a second one, further stretching her out.

"So warm...." Yunho mused while curling his fingers upwards.

"That feels so good."

Yunho felt proud of himself as he heard her say that, ego boosted further by the tiny sighs her nose breathed out.

"Yeah? You like my fingers inside you baby? Like having them inside your tight pussy?"

Y/N moaned in response when he began thrusting his fingers with more force, sloppy sounds being heard throughout the car due to how wet she was. Her thighs began to close around his hand, which resulted in Yunho slipping his fingers out before landing a harsh slap on her clit that had her nearly jumping in her seat.

"Keep those legs open for me you slut. After all, that's all you're good at."

If it had been anybody else, she would have slapped them for saying that. But something about Yunho actually had her nearly cumming at his words. Spreading her legs once again, she welcomed his fingers once more, bottom lip caught in between her teeth.

"You said he got 2 fingers in? Tsk. Pathetic. I bet I can top that."

Y/N's mouth dropped open into a perfect oval shape as Yunho stuffed yet a third finger in her, momentarily slowing his pace down so he could brush the tips of his fingers against the roof of her walls. He knew he found what he was looking for when she let out a particularly loud moan and her legs shook.

"Found you."

Y/N began writhing in her seat as Yunho jammed his fingers in and out of her at a rapid pace, his tips always making sure to brush at her g-spot. Yunho had a smug grin throughout the whole time, every 5 seconds or so he looked back to watch Y/N's blushed face as his hand fucked her.

"If you're already this worked up about just my fingers, I can't wait to see what you'll be like when I'm fucking you balls deep."

Y/N whipped her head at him after he said that, her incredulous eyes meeting his haughty ones.

"Yes Y/N, this is merely a prep to get you ready for my cock. I need you stretched open so you can fit my massive cock inside that tiny pussy of yours."

Y/N threw her head back as she began picturing getting fucked by his cock.

"Oh my- oh my God! Fuck!"

Yunho's speed never slowed down even after he felt her cum all over his fingers, wanting her to keep the high for as long as possible. He wanted to make sure he managed to get her to spill out as much as possible. Only until he felt her come down from her high did he remove his fingers from inside her. Holding them up to her lips, his thumb grazed her bottom lip.

"Taste yourself baby."

Her mouth opened and enveloped his fingers inside it. She hummed against his fingers as she sucked off her juices off them. Yunho didn't pull them out of her mouth until he was sure she had licked them clean. Wiping himself off on his pants, he then undid his zipper and began pulling himself out of his tight confinement.

"Be a good girl and suck me off baby. Put that pretty mouth of yours to work."

Seeing him whip out his massive length had her drooling over it. It was the biggest cock she had ever seen in her life and she couldn't believe that she'd actually have that in her soon, no doubt destroying and rearranging her insides. As she kept staring at it, she was smacked out of her trance when Yunho harshly yanked her down by her hair and pressed her face against his dick.

"Are you already too dumb to obey a simple order from just getting fingered? Or from seeing my huge cock?"

With his grip still on her hair, Yunho guided her so her nose brushed all around his length, making her sniff him which she gladly did.

"If you're really that much of a cockslut then you should have no problem sucking me off. Now get to it."

Opening her mouth, Y/N first took his thick head in her mouth, giving his slit a little dig with her tongue which made Yunho groan. Being in the mood for teasing him, she kept only his head in her mouth for the meantime, sometimes pulling off to give his slit sweet kitten licks before slurping around it once more, making sure to moan as dramatically as she could.

Knowing what her game was, Yunho wasn't having any of it.

"I know you can do a lot better than that you slut. Or did you forget how to suck dick?"

Putting one hand on the back of her head, he smoothed out her hair, petting and stroking her head in such a caring and tender way, all while having a sadistic look plastered on.

"It's ok, let me remind you."

Y/N gagged as she felt Yunho push her down his length, her nose hitting against his pubic bone. He held her there for a few seconds before pulling her back up from her hair. Letting her gasp for air first, Yunho fisted some more of her hair in his fingers before shoving her back down his length. His hips would often come up to stuff more of his length down her throat. Her mouth was so warm and he loved hearing her choke around his cock. Y/N hollowed her cheeks out as much as possible, sucking as much as Yunho as she could without gagging too much. The car was filled with her slurping and gagging sounds, and whenever Yunho would look down to see the mess she was it only fueled the feeling that was brewing in his lower stomach.

"Shit! You're going to make me cum- cum inside your mouth."

Yunho tried so hard to focus on not swerving out of the lane. He was thankful it was a deserted road that hardly anyone used, otherwise he would never have gotten away with face fucking Y/N as he drove. Hearing him finally start spewing out lewd sounds from his mouth had made Y/N proud. Sloppily, she kept deepthroating him, letting his head hit the back of her mouth as her hand reached over to cup his balls, massaging them in her palms.

Yunho began frantically bucking his hips up.

"Shit! I'm going to cum- Oh fuck!."

Swiftly pulling her off him, she had saliva trickling down her chin, lips swollen and red after making her practically swallow him whole. Y/N was confused when Yunho suddenly got off the road and parked the car. Struggling to take off his seatbelt, Yunho turned his attention to her.

"Backseat."

Getting the hint, Y/N got out of the car, pulling the rest of her dress over her head in the process. Opening the door, she quickly climbed into the backseat where seconds after Yunho joined her. He practically slammed the door behind him. Pulling his pants further down, he began pumping himself, spreading more of his precum around his shaft.

"Get on top of me."

Not needing to be told twice, Y/N climbed on top with his lap, a little too earnestly given how she hit her head on the roof of the car.

"Watch your head." He teased her.

"Fuck off." She hissed as she rubbed her head.

Holding her hips, Yunho lifted her up and then sunk her down onto his length. Y/N shuddered then stood still as his enormous length ripped right through her, stretching her far beyond anything she ever felt.

"I'd rather fuck you if you don't mind."

Y/N couldn't contain her whimpers and shrieks as Yunho slammed his hips into her, fingers digging into her ass to hold her down on his lap. Her hands held onto the top of the seats to keep herself from bouncing too much and accidentally hitting her head again. She cried out harder when Yunho angled his hips so he'd hit at her g-spot over and over again. Their heavy panting and breathing, mixed with the steam and sweat their bodies were producing was staring to make the windows fog up.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to fuck you."

Y/N gasped when one of his hands came up to wrap itself around her neck, not pressing down at it but it made her shiver in anticipation at what he was going to do.

"Seeing you parade yourself in such short skirts during meetings, bending down and having everybody stare at your ass or tits-"

Letting out an animalistic growl, Yunho's hand gripped her jaw tightly, squishing her cheeks together to the point of hurting.

"Made me want to bend you over the table and spank your ass red before fucking it in front of everyone."

Releasing her jaw, his hand once more went to her neck, except now he gripped it tightly, cutting off part of her oxygen intake. Yunho grunted as he felt her walls compress around his length. Leaning his head to her chest, he began to suck and bite all across her breasts and sternum, not satisfied until he was sure to leave purple marks on it. Yunho continued to bounce her on his cock, loving the way her eyes shut tightly and her mouth stayed agape and poured out such sinful sounds. Because of his hand on her neck, she tried to warn him that she was about to cum but instead gibberish came out.

He understood though what she was trying to say.

"Awww is my little slut going to cum so soon? How desperate and needy were you that you're about to burst anytime now?"

Y/N began tearing up at his words and the endless strokes of his head hitting so deep in her.

"Or do you just love my monster cock that much?"

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she began quivering on top of him.

"Fuck! Yes- love your monster- oh god!"

Feeling her cum all over him, it didn't take no more than a couple more roll of his hips for Yunho to start pumping his seed into her, deep and raspy grunts spilling from his throat as he continued to grind himself into her so as to ride out their orgasms.

Once they both came down from their highs, Yunho tilted Y/N's face up so he could kiss her. His kiss was desperate and his lips would harshly nip and tuck at her bottom lip, biting down and making it more swollen than it already was.

"You're mine now doll. I'm claiming you as my own. From now on anybody who wants you has to step over my dead body first."

Y/N giggled and blushed at his words, not against being Yunho's property one bit. Her fingers ran themselves through his hair as she kissed him back with the same amount of passed he had. Their kiss was interrupted by the loud buzzing of Yunho's phone.

"Shit." Yunho muttered as he reached for his phone, grimacing when he saw it was Hongjoong.

"Hello?"

Hongjoong's voice boomed through the speaker.

"Where the fuck are you two?! It's been over 2 hours! You should have been back a long ass time ago!"

They both looked at each other, trying hard not to burst out laughing.

"Uh.....we stopped for ice cream?" Yunho tried to make up an excuse.

"I'm not in the mood for games Yunho, so tell me what the fuck happened. Did you two get chased?"

With a shit eating grin on his face, Yunho stared straight at Y/N as he said the next words.

"Well if you really want to know, I just got done fucking my sweet partner in the backseat of the car."

They could hear Hongjoong wheezing while someone in the background started screaming hysterically.

"And you're going to be waiting for us more cause I'm not done with her yet...."

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[zenothemanager]

Axion: A Kortia Fic

If I write this, does it still make it a fanfic? Anyway, enjoy this short little thing I wrote about Gerald.

“Identify yourself travelers.” A voice came from a small open spot above the steel-like doors that looked about the width of a highway. 

“I’m Gerald Yori, and this is Dakota. She has no last name.” Gerald spoke towards the doors in a commanding voice I didn’t think he was really capable of. The slit above the doors quickly shut and a beam of purple light hit us, which tingled a lot.

“Gerald what the hell is this light?” I questioned, looking over my arms.

“They’re scanning our identities to make sure we aren’t known criminals.” He said cooly, just as the light turned off. 

“Entry granted. Queen Flore hopes you enjoy your stay at Astron, The Light of Vallauria.” A robotic voice said from the wall, seemingly from nowhere. After that, the doors began to open.

“The queen's name is Flore? Isn’t that a bit close to Florus?” I questioned with a bit of worry. After all, we had left the Princess to deal with the Dyclos problem by herself.

“You don’t need to worry Dakota, there's no relation there. From what I hear, the Queen is nothing like the Florus family.” He assured me, just as the gates finished opening.

And inside was more neon light than I had ever been exposed to in my life.

“Look at… all of the lights…” I muttered in sheer awe as my eyes darted across every little thing I was seeing. Purple, pink, and blue neon lights were shining from every corner of my vision. Cars were stacked in traffic high above the streets, thousands of people walked the sidewalks, and every bit of the city felt alive. 

“You like it?” Gerald questioned, a small smile appearing on his face. 

“This is better than I ever imagined it to be Gerald.” I smiled at him, the realized that for once, he was actually smiling.

“Wait are you smiling again?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you're talking about Dakota.” He said, his face going slack as he immediately began walking away from where I was standing. “You better hurry up and get your looks in now, or you’ll get left behind.”

“Gosh Gerald, you sound like a mother trying to get their kid to follow them.” I sighed, tearing my eyes away from the skyscrapers that seemed to cut through the very clouds themselves.

“What does gosh mean?” He questioned, shooting me a confused look.

“O-oh it's a saying where I’m from.” I suggested.

“Sure.” Gerald muttered in disbelief, but stayed silent afterward. This gave me time to actually take a good look around as we walked.

The vibe of the city was definitely cyberpunk. Futuristic flying cars, neon on every inch of the city, and the various ads for products that absolutely blew my mind. One thing I did notice that was odd were the people themselves. 

They all looked different.

I knew they were all Vallaurian, but not a single one had common features that everyone would normally have. Some people had crazy eye colors, some people had crazy hair colors, and some people even had wacky colors of their skin, or even more limbs than they should have.

“There's so many people here Gerald, how do they feed everyone?” I asked, realizing the lack of farms in the grasslands surrounded the giant walled city.

“You remember the floating farms we saw in Imperious?”

“Yeah.”

“That's what the people of Ventali do too. Sitting high up above the buildings is a huge floating farm that blocks out the sky during the day to feed the plants. Between dusk and dawn though, the plain splits itself up and sits on top of buildings around the city.” He said, looking around the neon city with even more awe in his eyes than even I had. I could tell he was really happy to be back here, and that in turn made butterflies fly around in my stomach.

“Well, where should we go first!” I asked in an excited tone, a bit louder than I expected too, but no one around us seemed to care. 

“We have to go to Axion, to deliver this letter.” Gerald said, pulling the white colored letter from one of his pockets and showing me it. It looked a lot more tattered and torn since the last time I had seen it… all that time ago.

“I thought Axion was destroyed?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow at him as he secured the letter back into his pocket. He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, keeping his hands in his pockets. It seemed like he was worried about something.

“It was, but apparently they tried to rebuild it a year or so back. I think something happened with the funding or someone broke in, because they quickly stopped on the project.” Gerald explained as we turned a corner and entered an even bigger neon street. I wanted nothing more than to fangirl over everything I was seeing, but Gerald was right, we had a job to do.

“Even with that being said, who are we delivering it too? Who would be in an abandoned school?” 

“The Savior, I guess.” Gerald shrugged. He obviously didn’t know who we were supposed to deliver it too.

“You guess? I thought you had better information sources than that Gerald.” I teased. I was a bit nervous, however. Just who had told him that we should go to Axion? Could it be a trap?

“Apparently the person who wrote this sent another message to Lord Summerset and told him to ignore this letter. It also said that the message was going to be delivered to the ruins of Axion on… today.”

“So the time we spent coming here was just to stall then?” 

“You’re learning well Dakota.” 

“I swear, you are impossible sometimes.” I muttered, putting my hands in my pockets and walking closely next to him. It was an odd experience to be in a city again, after all the time I had spent away from Earth.

“Are you cold or something?” Gerald asked, turning to me with a confused look on his face.

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You’re walking close to me like you’re cold or something.” Gerald pointed out, looking me up and down. My face immediately turned red, just as he looked away. Did he really have to call me out like that?

“Well I mean, I am a bit chilly…” I muttered, letting my voice trail off.

“It is a chilly night.” Gerald admitted, pulling his brown traveller coat off. This revealed his extremely toned arms and his amazingly tight shirt.

Oh god.

He then stopped walking, and draped the coat over my shoulders, adding yet another layer of warmth to my outfit. Instantly his smell struck my nose and it was intoxicating for all the right reasons.

“T-Thank you Gerald, but won’t you be cold?” I questioned, pulling his coat further around me and relishing in this moment.

“Not even a little. This is nothing compared to the nights in Deazure.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Turn left here, down the side street.”

We quickly crossed the street as the flying cars whizzed above our heads effortlessly. It still baffled me, just how did these things work?

But I knew that wasn’t important right now, so I focused on the task at hand. Getting to the school.

“This...is the place? It doesn’t really look like a school.” I muttered as I took a look at the path before us. It looked like at one point the walk way had huge flowery trees, but all that was left were burnt husks, and long dead flowers on the ground. Further down the path I noticed a tower the distance that looked like it was almost falling over. Below the tower, was what looked to be a broken rectangular building, with all of its windows blown out, and two huge doors lying on the ground in front of it.

"It used to be one of the most populated places in the city, believe it or not." Gerald explained as he put his hands on his pants pockets. He then started walking along the path, his shoes crunching over all the dead leaves that littered the ground.

"I heard a lot of conflicting things about it, but what actually happened?" I questioned, quickly following him.

"You probably won't accept the answer ‘a lot’, will you?" He asked, glancing over to me.

"What do you think Gerald?" I question with a soft smile, which just made him feign being annoyed.

"The Savior destroyed this place with his power. It's said he betrayed the very friends he had worked with during his years at the school, then, in an odd twist, he killed one of them. Following that he blew up this section of the city, causing all of this that you see around you."

"One person… did all this?" I questioned as I glanced at the broken building once again. It was only one story, which already raised a lot of questions. Just how had so many people attended this school.

“The more impressive part is that the fight happened underground apparently. Yet all this damage still happened.” Gerald said, his eyes turning more towards sadness. 

“Weren’t you here when it happened?” I asked softly, just as we got to what looked to be a courtyard in front of the fallen doors. Giant slabs of broken concrete, twisted metal, and leaves were scattered over this area. It was sad to see that what once was a place full of hope, was turned into such ugly rubble.

“I was.” Gerald simply replied, with sadness now evident in his face. Sympathy flowed through my heart, and I knew that this once, I couldn’t be the shy person I had been.

“It’s okay Gerald.” I said, getting closer to him and pulling him close to me. I was surprised when he didn’t push away, or say something sarcastic, or refuse at all. 

Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and held me, as silent tears fell from his eyes.

“I watched… I-” He said, his voice breaking as he tried to tell me something. As he said it though, it looked as if he were in pain just trying to push out the words.

“It’s okay Gerald, you don’t have to explain this time. Just...let it go.” I said, reaching my hand up and running one of my hands through his hair. 

And then he cried.

He cried and cried and cried, and let out every bit of emotion I knew had been building up. Ever since the first moment I had met him, I knew he was holding back unimaginable pain. I had tried time and time to ask him when we agreed to run away together, but he just wouldn’t break down, and he wouldn’t tell me. But now that I was seeing this, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt in my heart for even asking him about whatever horrible tragedy had made him feel this way.

“I think we should go Gerald, there's no sense in putting yourself through this pain just for-”

“No.” He said with a shaky voice as his tears stopped. The expression on his face hadn’t changed, and the pain was evident, but I could see a shimmer of determination in his hazel eyes. “We have to go in, I need answers Dakota.”

“Answers for what Gerald? Is it really worth putting yourself through all this emotional pain?” I questioned, almost begging him to reconsider his decision. I didn’t want to see the man I loved put through so much-

Love. Love?

What did I mean love?

“Before, I would have said no. But with you by my side, I think I’ll be strong enough.” He assured me, grabbing my hand in a way he had never done before. A blush hit my face, but the look in his eyes completely drove it away. He needed me to be strong now, or else he couldn’t get whatever he wanted from this broken place, and he would never be complete again.

“Okay Gerald. Let’s go face these demons head on. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” I reassured him, trying my best to give him a strong smile, even if I was dying on the inside from seeing him like this.

“Thank you Dakota, I don’t know what I would do without you.” He muttered genuinely, then pulled me by my hand towards the two grand doors that stood before the extremely dark entrance hall. We passed the fallen doors, the very same doors that the artwork in the Byrathes mansion was based off of, and then we entered what used to be a grand hall.

But it was now only full of skeletons and cobwebs.

“Oh god these are-” I started to say, the very hairs on my arms rising in fear.

“The bodies of everyone, still never removed.” Gerald’s voice cracked as he stopped and looked upon the horror before us. His hand squeezed mine tighter as he shivered slightly. I quickly moved next to him and pushed his face to meet mine.

“Look at me Gerald, they are just skeletons. You can’t do anything to change what happened here. The best thing you can do for these people that died is to live your life. You survived for a reason, so don’t waste it by holding all this guilt inside of you.” I pleaded, as I pulled him closer to me. 

All that I wanted to do was warm his cold heart, and bring a smile to his face.

“You just don’t understand Dakota, I was-”

“Might want to reconsider what you’re about to say there Gerald.” A voice came from above, and immediately my senses went into overdrive. Before either of us could react however, a figure dropped onto the ground next to us and blew up a ton of dust at us. 

“Gerald, we have to move!” I yelled trying to pull him along, but he simply wouldn’t budge. I glanced in the direction the figure had dropped onto, and the first thing I noticed was two glowing yellow orbs about where I expected eyes to be.

And then the dust disappeared, and revealed a figure in pure black armor, with their face covered. But even through this cover, I knew the two orbs I was seeing were their eyes, something I had never seen before.

“Who are you!?” Gerald yelled, letting go of my hand and pulling two blades from his belt, getting into an attack stance. The figure laughed, then turned to Gerald, but still pulled out no weapons.

“I am The Savior.”

[wadjaya]

I try spooky first impressions

“You shouldn’t be here.”

    Luis practically leapt out of his chaps when the unexpected voice sounded from somewhere above and behind him.

    San Jose was creepy enough when it was just limited to old, abandoned buildings and immense plant overgrowth. A regular concrete jungle- beasts and all.

    “Don’t try anything.” As though it were to punctuate the point, Luis felt the tip of a blade plunge just ever slightly into the back of his neck.

    He was much too smart to even think about wincing at that cut, though he had anticipated that voice coming from further away. Magic, perhaps? That slight pressure focused at such a narrow point of the back of his neck, surely this blade was smithed by a master. 

    Someone with a budget- materials to work with. Someone extremely experienced.

    “I ain’t plannin’ nothin. Just lookin’ for someone.” The self-proclaimed sheriff raised his hands slowly, no twitch to even begin to indicate to this unseen voice that he had any ill intent.

    “Oh, who?” What had been a whisper from a bit back seemed closer now, he felt warm breath pass his ear amidst the cool night. “A ghost, perhaps?” The pressure seemed to be whisked away with a slight breeze. Luis whipped around to face this unknown- only to be met with nary a soul behind him.

    “That’s a fancy trick, y’know. Quiet like that- it ain’t just a skill ya learn.” The overdone southern drawl of Magic 8 would give him away to anyone- and this would be no exception as his darkened eyes met the soft, bright-green glow of a pair just a couple feet ahead. “You were Montu, yeah?”

    One blink, then another. Luis briefly looked away to try and take stock of his position. 

    He had been meandering along what had once been the 880 freeway- Northbound and just past the clover on and off-ramps between O’Connor and the Santa Clara Valley Medical Center. What once may have been Palm Trees had grown like grass all throughout what once was a bustling city- now home to nothing but vicious, deadly, and intensely territorial beasts.

    And, seemingly, at least one person.

    “I know all about Montu.” With a brief chuckle, the bright eyes peering out from the shadowy street blinked out. And he heard the rustling of overgrowth. Briefly, the clouds parted and he could just make out a feminine figure as he heard the thunking of her blade helping her climb the thick stalk of palm grass.

    She heard the unbuckling of a holster before turning to face a man with a gun pointed directly at her- glowing eyes unblinking but wide.

    She saw an unremarkable man- a little shorter than six feet and not much heavier than 140-ish pounds- and she watched as the heat in his body shifted with the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

    “I prefer bein’ in on the joke.” The light of the moon faded as the clouds rolled in once more, the glowing irises of this huntress his only clue that she had not moved. “Mind explainin’ it?”

    There was a sincere giggle which broke out from the unseen girl, cut off with a clearing of her throat.

    “The joke is that I know who you are.” The light blinked out and Magic 8 fired his revolver, the loud bang echoing through the empty San Jose streets. Hardly even the sound of something skittering around down below responded to the blast. He turned a bit, gun pointed at precisely the same spot as he attempted to track this stalker in the darkness.

    He felt her breath first.

    “I know why you’re here.”

    He turned his body so quickly and with such force that the butt of his gun should have hit a normal person- easily knocking them out or worse. 

    After he missed, though, he felt the butt of what must have been her blade jab into his right side. With a pained grunt, Luis was knocked over into a roll. 

    When he was on his feet, crouched, he lifted the revolver with deadly precision to blast the spot she certainly had been.

    But his bullet ricocheted off something- the brief light from metallic sparks briefly revealing the brown face and long, dark hair- plus some framing of her shoulders- before fading. 

    Luis didn’t need to see her to judge where her footsteps were taking this huntress- rolling to his left to avoid what must have been a downward slash of this unknown blade. He fired two more pot-shots before he felt his back hit the freeway road barrier.

    There was a single footstep- a very long stride or a leap of some sort- before he just had the gut feeling that he needed to roll to his right. When he heard the sickening scraping of concrete, Luis pulled himself over the side to get off the open road.

    He slid down a slight hill, breaking into a sprint as the elevation levelled out. He found his footsteps hitting manufactured pavement again and concluded that he must have found another road.

    “Thank somethin,’ road means cover nearby.” The man couldn’t help but mutter his thoughts aloud as the crumbling infrastructure a way behind revealed the continued presence of his pursuer.

        On the other side, this huntress tracked her prey dutifully in spite of the dark night. Her eyes glowed with a pale green which revealed the bright red of his body’s heat bolting down the road below. 

    Her tailing took the form of rooftop freerunning as the man ran through a dilapidated neighborhood of residential buildings- none too notably higher than the rest and all just a fine distance for her to leap between. 

    She was forced to duck when he glanced back up and fired a shot near her, briefly cutting off her heat vision to make him lose sight of her.

    “I like this one.”

    Luis continued in his mad dash for what must have been a few blocks- based on the sidewalks he could just barely make out amidst the pitch darkness of this night- before he ducked onto what must have been the lawn of a home. The old, wooden fence was utterly worthless by now, but it was the best cover the man had to give himself a moment to properly scan his surroundings.

    Eyes finally adjusting, he picked out the shape of a pretty typical suburban house. The roof seemed to have not quite held its intended shape- at least not the half that must have fallen into itself at some point- but the structure seemed sound enough to at least warrant camping out downstairs to wait out the darkness.

    Elizah spent the next couple of hours establishing a vague perimeter around the house. She made note of the paths around its, well,  what once may have been a yard. As the duo had gotten further away from the main highway, the palm tree cover had subsided to a noteworthy degree as the soil became somewhat more hostile to most plant life, particularly local flora. 

    Suburban humans weren’t much different before the Evovirus, it would seem.

    The dirt all about the neighborhood seemed largely incapable of supporting much life, likely packed down solidly dozens of years before and drained of nutrients needed for much other than standard lawn grass to grow.

    Obviously, when the Evovirus began changing plantlife, the grass must have become unsustainable. Or perhaps there simply wasn’t enough rainfall to support that kind of flora when the residents evacuated? 

    Either way, that didn’t matter for the moment. Elizah’s keen eye would be drawn toward the warm glow of ‘natural’ light occasionally poking out of a window into the building her prey was likely hiding out of. It appeared to be the flickering of a campfire, likely set up on the devastated tiles of an abandoned kitchen floor. Presuming the inside was as devoid of flora as the yard, it was likely the only space where a fire wouldn't rapidly grow out of control. 

    Given the state of the structure….

    Elizah glanced about the basic frame of the building, noting how the roof had long since fallen in on itself at a number of spots, as well as how one corner of the second floor had crumbled in its long state of disrepair.

    Being inside when a fire starts to spread was likely not the best idea. 

    With one smooth motion, Elizah pulled the wicked blade of her bone dagger from its sheathe- the boney surface sagging just ever so slightly where each segment was furthest from the pins which held it to the tough inner frame.

    “Well, I suppose I should say hi.”

    Elizah crept on up to the sliding glass door in the back of the house- what once may have been a nice view of the yard and a portion of the neighborhood when you finished preparing breakfast- and peered inside. Sure enough, without so much as activating her magic, the huntress caught sight of the man she had chased here. He was standing near the small makeshift firepit, rubbing his hands to maintain his own heat while he occasionally looked toward one entrance of the house or another. 

    Not too comfortable- good.

    She gingerly tested the door, pressing the handle to the left as she kept her back against the wall on the side of the door. Much to Elizah’s irritation, the door groaned against the track it was laid upon. Not locked, but very old.

    The slightest metallic click- perhaps the cylinder of the man’s firearm shaking against the frame of the weapon as he waved it about- confirmed the obvious. There was a long, quiet pause as the two each sought out a solution to their respective conundrums.

    “You comin’ in?” Luis’ eventual call came with his forced southern accent, eliciting an unseen roll of Elizah’s eyes. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

    No doubt anymore, everyone knew the one guy at Montu who did that.

    Elizah tossed the blade out in front of the glass, a show of surrender. With a clatter, the bones smacked onto the cracked concrete of a patio area.

    “Zephyr One, don’t you think it’s about time we had a chat?” Luis lowered his gun as he heard the voice call out, much friendlier now than when that same voice seemed to erupt from the shadows around him. With what he determined was likely a blade which flew across the glass doorway, the man figured it was fine to holster his firearm again. Unbuckled, but back at his side.

    “Don’t reckon you’re meanin’ to be a friendly face?” His voice, still cautious but hopeful, responded after a couple moments.

    In spite of the atmosphere seeming friendlier, Luis instinctively set his hand on the butt of his holstered weapon when the vaguely-familiar figure finally came into view. As she slowly reached out to grab her weapon, an action he allowed, he took in his first proper look at Elizah Krance. Khaki capri pants and dark tank-top immediately brought some vague memories of a younger team back at Montu. The dagger- which she put away with hardly a glance his way- was an impressive piece of work. Were he a blade type of guy, he would have a lot to say about the mesh-like network of bone fragments making up the serrated blade.

    She finally looked back to him as she pulled the sliding glass door open with a cringeworthy squeal against the track.

    “When was the last time that thing was opened?” Elizah offered a small chuckle with her attempted icebreaker, grateful that the orange glow of the flames didn’t give away her awkward blush. She was met with an awkward silence for a few moments before Luis cautiously reached out for a bottle on the nearest countertop.

    “How d’ya feel about cheap wine from thirty years ago?”

    “Not great.”

    “Want some?”

    There was yet another pause as Elizah looked over the man. His eyes were still slightly widened with the curiosity of the situation, though his stance relaxed a bit when she made every conscious effort not to tense up herself. He had a brown vest over what appeared to be a plaid button-up shirt tucked into dark leather chaps over a simple pair of blue, denim jeans.

    Cowboy-aesthetic boots but thankfully no spurs- she’d have heard them, after all. Most people had thought of Luis as a nerd at one point, but he could feel the weight of silent judgement as her unimpressed gaze came over him. She didn’t mean to let out a puff of suppressed chuckles, in her amusement.

“Sure…?”

[turquoisemagpie]

WKM: 20 Years Later.

3)

Abe and Lottie had walked and talked their way back into town, Abe doing most of the talking, explaining what got him into crime solving. Although he seemed too caught up in his own narration to really care Lottie was next to him, she kept a yard away from him on the sidewalk, still weary of whether to trust him or not. He seems agreeable now his gun wasn’t pointing at her, but something was nagging at the back of her head, telling her to get far away from him as soon as possible. Damien was constantly pulling Celine away from Lottie, telling her not to keep harassing her with too many thoughts. Celine was acting aggressively concerned, as if she trying to keep a small child from walking onto a busy road.  “He’s not to be trusted!” she shouted at Damien, “We heard his crazy mumblings, haven’t we? Every time he visited the house, always whispering to himself, swearing revenge on Will. He’s gone mad over the years. And if he finds out who Lottie is… I can’t let this happen. She can’t stay any longer with him!” Damien stopped her before she could touch the back of Lottie’s head again. “Stop it!” he pleaded, “I know you’re concerned for her safety, but you can’t just keep throwing thoughts into her head. She has her own mind, and we’ve seen she can fend for herself… She wants information and, unfortunately, he’s the only one who can give her what she needs to know.” Celine scowled. “She probably knows more than him, he’s such an arrogant idiot.” “Well, let her discover that for herself.” Damien suggested, “You can try to lead her in certain directions, when she’s lost, but no brainwashing her into doing what you want. It’s not fair. Ok?” “They all died, sadly.” Abe continued, flicking idly through the concertina of photographs in his wallet, “Each death more tragic than the last.” Lottie was baffled and a little fearful as she asked, “So, why didn’t you just stop getting partners sooner, if you knew they’d all end up dead?”  “I can’t solve all the crimes by myself.” Abe explained, “I gotta have a backup, someone to divulge with, and get all the possibilities out in the open, incase anything should happen to me.” He sighed sadly, “You right though. I shoulda realised that I had a curse in some way. And my last partner made me finally come to terms with that.” “Why? How did they die?” “They didn’t, that’s the odd thing. They just sort of disappeared. That seems to me the most tragic thing to happen to a partner.” He glanced at Lottie and saw her overly concerned expression. He chuckled and said, “Don’t worry. I’ve learnt my lesson. No more partners.”  Thank goodness, Lottie thought to herself. If he had suddenly turned around at that moment to asked her to be his next partner, she would have gladly jumped over a wall and ran far away.  “But yeah, that’s me.” Abe said with a shrug, “Now, what’s your story?”

Lottie sighed and began, “I’m trying to track down my parents. My mom had me until I was one, but she disappeared after… whatever happened on the night the Markiplier killing. So, I was put into an orphanage. It was fine at first, they raised me ok until I was 11, and then they moved me to a care home for older kids… I didn’t have such a good time there. And I was never adopted, sadly; I lived my whole life orphaned until I was old enough to leave and find my own living at 18.” She took another sigh, realising how depressing her life story actually was, now she was hearing it out loud. “It’s been hard to keep a job, or a place to stay, but I think I’ve found a stable living for now. So, while I’m in the local area, I decided to try and see what happened to my mom and dad.”  “Your mother was involved in the events at the manor?” Abe suddenly pressed, “How?” “She was the wife of Markiplier.” Abe suddenly stopped walking, Lottie stopped too and looked to him. His brow furrowed more as his blinked; he was clearly confused. “Wait.” He said, rubbing his eyes roughly, “You mean… Celine, the seer… had a kid with Mark? How the hell did I not know this! Me and Mark were friends for ye-.” “Oh no, I’m not Mark’s child.” Lottie interrupted, “Celine was… having an affair with Colonel William. I’m his daughter, not Mark’s.” Abe’s eyes widened slightly, then blinked his shock away, realising Lottie would notice it.  She continued, “I think that’s probably why my mother took me away from the house. I suspect that she never told Mark and was scared of the consequences if he found out. But why she never came back, I don’t know. There is the possibility that… she died, but that’s not a certain fact. So, I want to find her. Or at least find out what really happened to her.” “And… what about your father, the Colonel?” Abe pressed seemingly intrigued. She shrugged, “I don’t know. I suspect my mother took me to his place after she left Mark, but I’m not sure. I can’t find anything anywhere that tells me if they even lived together.” “Maybe he had other relatives he lived with.” Abe suggested, “Do you know if there is anyone else related to the Colonel? Anyone who could help you find where he is?”  Lottie felt a small cold feeling crawl up her spine as Abe looked at her keenly. She only now realised how he kept one hand through his coat to press against his gut, like Napoléon Bonaparte. He must have an old wound, she thought, but why is he fascinated in the Colonel? Did the Colonel do something to him?  “I’m not sure.” Lottie said cautiously, “I don’t really much care for him. So, I didn’t do as much research on him as I did for my mother.” That was a lie. She had done just as much, if not more, studying for him. It was easier to list his achievements, that was for sure; she managed to find his military records, and all his expeditions into the unknown seemed worthy enough to be printed in the headlines of the local newspapers of his time. But Abe seemed suspicious now. She had to be careful what she said. Abe sighed in disappointment; he thought he was nearly onto something. “Ah well,” he huffed, “sorry if I don’t have anything new that helps you find them. But I have to say, you seem like you’re on the right path to finding something big. Maybe, working together, we could find more clues as to their whereabouts.” Lottie stopped again and crossed her arms. “I thought you said, ‘no more partners’!” she said with a raised eyebrow.  Abe shook his hands at her. “Oh, no no no.” he corrected himself, “No more partners, you’re right. I mean I could be your partner!” Lottie’s eyes widened. “You? You be my partner?” “Yeah.” Abe said with a goofy smile, “I mean, I’m a qualified detective. And I have connections. Connections to people who can help the both of us. I’ll.. have to do some seeking out though, to try and find them, but once I find them, you can ask them if they have anything that could help you.” “Why do you want to help me so bad?”  Abe paused for a hesitant moment. “Erm… because I want you to find your parents. Your story is really sad, yet encouraging… You know? After all you’ve gone through and yet you still have the determination to find the answers. I wanna back you to the hills!” Wow, Lottie thought, was my story really that sad? For someone like him, someone who’s lost nearly every person he’s worked with to a horrific tragedy, to say that she was the one to be pitied… it felt sadder in a way. But oh well, one man’s walk in the park is another man’s bridge of death.  Suddenly Abe thrusted a small card into Lottie’s hand. It was a business card with his name and a phone number printed on, to which the phone number was scribbled out with a pen and new one was written above it. “Call me tomorrow.” He said eagerly and he started quickening his pace away from Lottie.  “Wait.” she called out in confusion, “Where are you going?” “Back to my office.” He called back, still striding away, “I’m going to try and track down the people who I think can help us. Call me tomorrow and I’ll tell you if I have anything! See you soon!” And he disappeared around the corner at the bottom of the hill, into town.  Lottie stood still for a moment, slightly baffled by what just happened. She stared at the card he gave her, at the number written down. 

She ended up staring at the card again the next day, as she was writing down all the events of what happened in her book. Looking back at everything, Lottie grew more and more excited. Soon she’d get some answers. This was all turning out to be a lot easier than she imagined. A little too easy.  She headed out of her flat to the landlady’s office downstairs, asking if she could use the phone. Once she got to the phone she dialed the number on Abe’s card. The first dial tone hadn’t even finished before there was an instantly answer.  “Hello?” Abe’s answered quickly. “Hi. It’s Lottie.” “Great! I’ve been waiting for you to call all morning. I managed to find someone who can help us. Someone who’s still in the area too, which is lucky.” Lottie was happily surprised. “Wow. Great! Who is it?” “An old employee of the manor, who was there on the night of the killing. I’ve met him before. Bit of an intimidating thug, but he wasn’t the murderer, which is a good thing.” “Yeah. Great(!)” Lottie said with a sarcastic tone, “Where abouts is he.” “He’s the head chef of a restaurant at the southern end of town, west just before the highway. If we head there now, it’ll still be open. We can question him there.” “West of the highway?”  “Yeah… Why? Is that an issue?” Lottie bit her lip. “…No. It’s fine. It’s just… never mind.” “Yeah, I know. The place is a little rough. Just stick with me, you’ll be fine. I’ll meet you at the southern center of town in an hour. Is that ok with you?”  Lottie hesitated, but finally agreed and hung up. She headed back to her room. She took her time getting the things she needed, but she lingered every now and then, thinking worryingly to herself. She knew the southern end of town was rough, she had spent all her life there; that’s why she was scared of it. The orphanage was there. All the people she had grown up with were there. Probably some of the younger meaner kids were still there. The careless yet strict staff were there. He was there…  But Abe would be there too. And he was armed; he could take care of anything. And it’s not like any of the staff would care enough to try and meet her again. It’ll be fine. And all the other kids had moved on too; they were probably in some other part of the country by now. It’d be fine. Just breathe. It’ll be fine. Breathe. Just breathe. It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.

“Lottie?” Abe’s voice made her jump. “You ok?” he asked calmly. They were standing outside a rather rundown looking restaurant; it looked more like a converted warehouse than a restaurant. “Do you not want to go in?” Lottie shook her head and took a deep breath. “No, I’m ok. I’m fine. I just… need to catch my breath.” Abe’s brow furrowed. “You got asthma, or…?” “No. Anxiety.” Lottie told him, “I need to calm down sometimes. Things get easily overwhelming for me.”   “Oh. Ok. We can wait if you want.” Lottie shook her head. “No, I’m fine now. Let’s go.” She walked ahead of the detective and opened the door about an inch, before suddenly it opened itself. “Bonjour!” A very tall, stern-faced man in a suddenly slipped out from behind the door. He wore a spotless waiter’s uniform, even a pair of equally spotless white gloves. “Welcome. It’s still a bit early for the dinner menu to start, but I can serve you drinks while you wait. How many of you are eating tonight?” “Erm… We’re not eating sorry.” Lottie nervously told him. “Oh?” he hummed in a pertly attitude, until he saw Abe standing behind her, to which his expression, as stone-faced as it may have been, dropped to a scowl. “Oh.” “Well, isn’t this a turn up for the books!” Abe announced, stepping past Lottie to look angry face to angry face at the waiter. “Fancy you working with the same guy all over again. I thought you and the chef both hated each other. Or is this like a love-hate relationship or something.” “It’s bad luck, in my opinion.” the waiter replied in a deep stern voice, “It’s not like either of us wanted to be here.” “Wait.” Lottie interrupted, “You know each other?” “Know each other?” Abe pointed at the waiter and said, “This stuck-up bastard was the butler back at the manor, Benjamin! One of three employees who worked there for over 10 years,” he squinted angrily at the waiter, “and one of the suspects of Markiplier’s death.” Lottie gasped in delight. “So… you were at the murd-“ Abe and Benjamin shushed her up hastily. “Don’t say that word, please.” Benjamin said quietly, “anything, but that word.” Sighing agitatedly, Abe said, “Never mind this pointless talk. Where’s the chef?” “He’s in the kitchen, but I wouldn’t interrupt him. He gets… restive before the dinner rush.” “I don’t care what kind of vegetable he’s getting! We need answers now.” Abe headed towards the kitchen, the waiter following him to try and stop him.  Lottie caught up to Benjamin and asked, “Were you really there at Markiplier’s death?” “Unfortunately, so.” “Then, would you mind sticking around and answering a few questions too?” Lottie asked politely. “I wouldn’t bother with him.” Abe interrupted before the waiter could answer, “He’s about as useful as a candle without a wick!” Abe reached the beaded curtains that covered the doorway into the kitchen. As he entered, Benjamin turned away, wincing, like he was bracing for an explosion. Lottie paid no mind and walked in after the detective. “No!” Benjamin yelled as she walked through, “He’s not-!” “STAY OUT OF MY KITCHEN!!” Damien pushed Lottie to a side. Lottie stumbled, just as a knife flew past her shoulder and stuck into the wood of the doorway. 

[misadventures-phan-can]

Chasing Phantoms ~ Prologue

It was not meant to be.

A Mother clutched her month-old daughter close. The ship shook, fire danced in the corner of her eye. Outside, a dark figure loomed. Another ship, the attacker, raining bolts down on its prey.

Oh the life they had planned. The love, happiness… The hard times and anger, sadness. All of it they were prepared to face together, forever. But not this. Never this.

The child she held in her arms cried, either from the jostling of her mother’s running, or the loud, terrifying sounds of battle that engulfed the ship whole. Soon, soon they could escape.

The woman felt terrible. Torn between the men and women of the crew that had helped her so much, the urge to stay and fight for them like they were for her… or her daughter, her Star, and the life she would surely have if she took an escape pod and ran.

The Captain knew what choice she would make, the crew knew. No one held it against her, even as she rushed away, no time spared for goodbyes. He only looked at her, stoic as always, nodding once. She smiled grimly, the first hit rocking their ship on its axis. She ran. The Captain turned and started barking battle orders. That was the last she ever saw of them, the valiant crew and their leader.

It was not meant to be.

It was hot as hell on this planet, the humidity in air stuck to the skin, only adding to the sweat that formed over faces and arms- for the humans anyway. Men and women alike wore sandals as they walked down solar-paneled sidewalks. Bicycles casually rolled past on the sidewalk separate from the pedestrian path. Every few feet the solar-panels displayed the image of a figure walking on the appropriate lane, and little bike signals on the bike path.

Leafy, flowering vines grew up telephone poles and hanging baskets dropped down within reaching distance, most full of small pitcher plants to help control the insect population. Although the wild variety​ smelled like rotting flesh, these small domestic ones smelled like overly ripe fruit. Edible plants and berry bushes hung down as well, such as ripe red strawberries, plump peaches, juicy oranges and many others, both from different planets and native to Linus.

Natural bridges went over highways for both human and fauna safety alike. Every block had a shaded solar charging port surrounded by benches, walkways that led to the beaches, bicycle racks and parking lots. The skyscrapers in the distance grew with greenery, bearing a strong resemblances to the massive forests surrounding most of the coastal capital.

The community, whether native or not, enjoyed this planet’s climate immensely… however the foreign General felt his sweat squelch in his thick military boots and under his formal uniform. The locals merely wore bikinis and shorts, with only the rare few daring to cover up with sundresses and tank tops. He had only been here for barely half a Standard Galactic Day, and already he hated it with determined vehemence.

The man stopped under some shade, both to catch his breath and check in with Head Quarters. Taking his communicator off the clip on his coat, he clicked it to the correct signal.

“General reporting, Sir come in, Sir.” The man states, pressing the receiver of the little device, all the while shaking sand out of the speakers despite it not having been exposed to the beaches at all.

“Oh hun, always so uptight and formal… you couldn’t just lay your head back and relax for the day could you…” An effeminate voice chimed through static from the other end. One could just imagine him in his Cat’s eye sunglasses, filing his nails. The General fought back a cringe of disgust.

“They didn’t know about the mineral… they don’t apparently use much mining resources… pride themselves on being green, having low impacts on the environment and all that… A biologist I found along the shore did not suitably help… he was more concerned with some species of cat beasts and a slug…”

“Ah yes….” The man on the other end of the line hummed. “I heard about those cuties. I think I may have seen one earlier today… maybe two if wolves in sheep’s clothing count. Very adorable little things, really. It makes me want one…” he hummed in a slight airy manner, with noticeable emphasis on the want.

“Sir, I do not think it a wise course of action…”

However within moments he was walking down the sidewalk to visit the flea markets, casting cold, grey eyes along colourful stalls that seemed to sell everything on this planet. From exotic fruit and meat, to equipment for ships, Earth antiques, and every species imaginable living on Linus, which seemed as good a candidate for ‘pet’ you could get, in as loose a sense of the word as possible.

He decided upon a particularly dedicated looking vendor, which was really just a collection of small play gates and cages full of animals. The first creature to greet him was a many-eyed reptilian-looking cat with 6 arms. It started growling- the man assumed- for it made a repeating, aggressive ticking sound combined with a series of rattling snarls. Eventually it turned to lay contentedly under a heat lamp. Then, he saw an odd looking snake whose eyes seemed to jut out like a chameleon’s and whose tail wrapped around a branch like it had a mind of its own. A certain scaly thing even vaguely resembled a dragon. But one species in particular caught his eye. If one had lived on Earth, in its golden age, one would compare it to a cute, chubby baby otter. To the people of Linus, they were Mimics. And, to the people who knew what they were capable of, limitless sources of potential.

The stern General was, however, hoping he wouldn’t have to go through with this tomfoolery.

Approaching the manager, or owner of sorts, he cleared his throat and presented his dilemma.  

“I need a pet for someone… a Service Dog like animal. Something smart. Something vicious.” He said, with a glint in his eye.

“Ah, is it perhaps for that special lady in your life? I mean, it all depends on what you want smart for exactly…” The manager replied, the local Linus lilt colouring his speech as he scrutinized his latest client.

The man grimaced, disgusted by the latest developments. He supposed one could call his Commander a ‘special lady’ alright… special with a helmet maybe.

“You pry too much…” He retorted, in a very smooth, very dangerous tone despite his apparent anger. “I came to ask questions, not to answer them…. I am here for a Mimic.”

The vendor- thought he seemed slightly dumbfounded- laughed heartily. “Pardon my manners, us mainlanders don’t mean to pry as much as we do. Should have just been straight forward- we got a whole litter. I hear even the SDF are starting to use these guys. I do warn ya, they aren’t pets. With ‘em little guys it’s like adopting a kid of your own…”

He motioned to a small group of Mimics, round chubby faces with antenna like whiskers. One seeming to be a small white female, another a large dapple grey, the third a grey with a black back and light underbelly. The fourth, and final one was a small black, and white male, standing just slightly taller than the female.

“That one right there, he’s a smart one I’ll tell ya.” He says pouring some milk into a saucer with a small amount of cat food. By the time the dishes were placed in their pen, the “alpha” Mimics were chittering and hollering loudly. Already they had started to mimic the noises of the animals surrounding them. The small black and white male remained silent as the two others pushed and shoved, snapping at one another for the food.

“Chester, come over here boy.” The puppy, though young, seemed to have a natural aptitude towards this sort of thing. He stood up his hind legs, prancing up and down as if he were a kangaroo jumping in delight before the dish was placed down in front him. Followed by another one for the other two Mimics.

While the two grey males fought over who would drink first, the black puppy stared at them. When the moment was right, he snuck his snout under their chests to stealthily pick dish up carefully in his mouth, all the while pushing the other with his flippers. Once his thievery accomplished, the small male sat by the passive white female, with whom he shared his prize. She pressed up against him, affectionate, but most certainly shy.

Then, suddenly, the black male looked up at the scowling General, their gaze locking. A galaxy of blue ocean waves and worlds of the multi-hued coral beneath seemed to scrutinize the man’s very person- for he had no more soul. They glowed with multitudes of deeper secrets, hidden thoughts he would never see. Perhaps it was intelligence. Or maybe not. Was it, perhaps, something more?

It didn’t take long before the Grey’s realized what had happened and approached. They bristled and snarled, copying all sorts of offended animal calls. The black male, Chester, simply looked at them before growling and making a noise that the man had heard before, upon approaching the stall. The Mimic pup got up on his hind legs and made a noise resembling the roar of one of Linus’ big cats, albeit softer and smaller, babyfied, almost. Now, before the Grey’s, stood an almost perfect replica of the reptilian, six armed cat who slept a few cages over. The male’s siblings retreated in a frenzy, fearfully whining high pitched screeches that made the General want to shoot them. But nevertheless. If his Commander had stated he wanted a pet, he would have his damn pet. And if it was to be, the General would make sure its usefulness would be maximized. He would make damn well sure. And if he was to be stuck with an overgrown, doggish copy-parrot, he would make sure it wasn’t a dumb overgrown, doggish copy-parrot. This would be it. 

The man spent the rest of the day carrying an unstable cardboard box, with holes punched in the top, under his arm. Heavily annoyed, very unamused. Little did he know, this was the beginning of 15 years of annoyance and un-amusement.

Next: Chapter 1 - The Cloak

[musicalmelody001]

So, like, back on that crutches thing nobody cared about...

It's been a while. It's the end of the 4th week, and those estimated 2-3 weeks to heal were a LIE. My foot still hurts pretty much on the same level as it did on the third day- a fuck ton better than the first, but still an issue walking. Granted, I only used the crutches for 6 days before I got tired of using my entire lunch break walking TO the bathroom. So, like. Still hurts. Except, oh yeah. Some fun stuff. Someone hit my car the second week, and I walked without my crutches to the nearest store (two city major intersections) in heavy-ass rain to get some ducttape to put back together the pieces of my bumper that I had JUST replaced out-of-pocket. I wasn't gonna buy a new fucking bumper less than a month after getting this one. Fuck that. Then, THIS WEEK. This week started off with a bang if that bang is a gun that shoots you in the face with bullets that explode into fireworks that spell "Fuck You".

Monday, I woke up super late and instead of arriving 30min early as I prefer, I showed up 6 minutes late. Which is TECHNICALLY a fireable offense. Later, my co-worker asked me to drive her to her friend's house after work. Her car was out of comission and would otherwise walk home - 13ish miles. So I drove her to the opposite edge of the city, the long way around because of course the gps is messing up. I finally get her to her friend's house, and turn on the gps to head home. It's about 40 minutes since we left work, but GPS says 22min to home with light traffic. Sounds good. Wanna eat some ice cream. Monday was expected to be -and WAS- the worst/bussiest/most aggrivating day of the quarter, possibly TWO quarters. All the fucking stars alligned for the day from hell for the whole department for eight solid hours.

Anywhoo, heading onto the only highway for miles -because we're inthe middle of nowhere and there's just green everywhere outside of that one main street a mile back that had a neighborhood and like three businesses, and about a mile or so down the road I notice a bunch of heat in the cabin. Coming from the air vents. And a slight smoke smell. While the ac/heater was completely off. I take the upcoming exit, and pull over in a church parkinglot that suddely shows up amongst the freaking endless trees. Turm off the car. Get outside. Pop the hood. A WALL of heat blasts me, and I feel it as I hover my hand over the engine. Okay, no big deal, I'll let it cool. But, I'm out of gas. Might have trouble getting home.

Remembering the oil leak from last month, I check the dipstick. Looks dry, might be out of oil too. I pull out my phone to google the nearest gas station. It just barely see the words "3.4 miles", then my phone fucking shuts off on me, and it's useless now. Close the hood, lock the car. I walk over to the church. Lights off, doors locked. Parking lot empty. I walk around the side and see a few cars. I walk to another door. Locked. Dark inside. But there's an intercom on the side. I assume the people there must be employees working on something durring the week, like at the church I used to go to as a kid. I push the button and offer a hesitant "Hello?" No response. Great. I turn around and take a few steps away from the door, try to get my phone to turn back on. Not responding. After a minute or two I hear a click behind me. A big, burly dark-skinned dude (for reference for my comparison, my family are all around 6ft and a nice medium tan, except me, 5'3" and whiter than printing paper) has the (completely clear glass) door open the tiniest little crack and just looks at me, "Can I help you?"

"My car broke down, is there a gas station near here?" I ask. He gestures down the road blocked by trees, "That way," and closes the door.

I stare out to the road for a bit. That was... So... Not what I was expecting. Or that helpful, really. So I head back to my car, grab the 1gal gas tank in my trunk, and inspect my windows after noticing the broken glass on the ground. Not from my car, but it still does not instill confidence. I pull out the pepper spray from my purse and have it casually resting in my hand, locked, the loop around my wrist. I take my flashlight from my glove box and put it in my purse, just in case. It's hot now, but I drape my cardigan across my sounder, and start heading down the road.

And down, and down. Down a steep hill, my ankle starts screaming as I loose sight of the church between the trees, and I keep going. I pass the higjeay, go underneath it and keep walking in the same direction. And keep walking. Pass a pair of 2ft wooden crosses sticking out of the grass on the side of the road, with fresh flowers, and a small child's toy next to one of them. I feel a sudden chill. I keep walking. Further, I cross a road and keep going, no cars, no buildings, but also no trees now. Just grass. I keep going. The hill gets steeper, I see what MIGHT be the corner of a gas station on the horison, on the second peak ahead. I l

Keep walking, and the hill reaches small flat section before sloping back up. More grass, but now more trees. I see the edge of a biking trail in the distance to my right. Assuming that means a freaking TOWN, I keep going. Up more. Some dilapidated houses that may or may not still be in residence. An empty box of diapers in the middle of the road, that I carefully approach, looking both ways down the empty road, and check for animals before moving it to the side and off the road, placing it by a cinderblock nearby so it doesn't blow back into the road and cause an accident, hopefully. I keep walking. I reach some train tracks and stand there for three minutes, completely confused as to WHAT THE FUCK these road markings are supposed to mean.

The sun is setting and I can see the maybe-gas station not too far away, so I take a picture and keep walking. My ankle REALLY hurts. I finally make it to the gas station, the sun is lower, and I go inside. I pre-pay for a gallon of gas, and an item on the recipt I did not get. I ask and am told it is a fee for using a card, I don't believe him but don't care anymore. I want to go home. I'm told a pump. The pump does not dispense gas. I try again. No response. The screen says "see cashieer inside to pay". I head inside. I say it doesn't work. Clerk says it does. I confirm the number, and go back outside. I try it again. No dice. I hit the button a bit harder, pull the lever. Nothing. I roll my eyes again. Go back inside. Am told that I am not doing it right, that I need to press the button first. Go back outside, try three more times. Go back inside. Ignored. Go back outside, paranoid now that cars are starting to arrive that maybe it will suddenly work, and someone else will get the gas. I try again. Nope. I see someone walk up from behind me in my peripheral, and I think they try to ask me for change, but I ended up screaming frustratedly at the same exact time so they leave awkwardly.

I try AGAIN. Nope. No gas. Not flowing. I go back inside. The clerk is glaring like he never wants to see me again. I say it doesn't work. He says I already got the gas. "Bull shit! It hasn't done a fucking thing!" He goes outside with me to the pump, yelling at me, hits the side of the pump, and it starts working. What the fuck. Who gives a fuck, I'm so done. I get my gallon of overpriced gas, and start to walk away as I realize I forgot the oil. I'm not going back inside. I see a small convience-like store a block or two down. Walk to it. Am asked multiple times for change and/or cash. Repeately advise that I do not have any.

I get inside, and honest the food they're selling is probably SO sketchy but I'm starved. I skipped breakfast AND lunch, so at the moment it smells so good. I just want to get home and eat. But I only have a few dollars in my account, except for the money for my car payment that I'm expecting to go through any day now. I find some oil, more than I wanted to spend, and head back to the car. It's mega dark now. No stars. Just dark. There's a few street lights here by the stores, so I continue. Reply a few more times that I do not have cash to give.

I make it to the sidewalk where majority of my journey resided, and continue down the street. I put on my cardigan. Now I'm going uphill, and my ankle is asking how I want to die, because it's screaming. I don't know how long it's been. But it's dark and it's SURELY not 6pm amymore. When I reach the intersection back in the place with no trees, a car I had seen doing past me earlier had turned around, and pulled over. No cross-traffic. Sitting at a stop sign in my path. Inside the extra-long sleves of my cardigan, I palm my pepper-spray, and leave my thumb resting lightly on the safety lock. I stop about six or seven feet away from the stop-sign, hesitating. The passenger window rolls down a bit, but I can't see who's inside. "You need a ride?"

I hope that the person is well-meaning, and decline, saying I'm almost to my car. He asks if I'm sure, and after two more refusals he drives off. I continue.

A bit further, another car comes. They're heading the same way, but on the empty road they slow down, rolling down a window to shot accross the three uninhabited lanes, and ask if I need a ride. I decline once again, wishing that I didn't have to walk anymore but also paranoid once the sun sets, and continue walking. A bit later they slow down again, suggesting I get inside. I say I'm fine. I walk further to see they'd driven foreward then turned around, this time having opened the side door. I avoid eye-contact and walk a bit faster. I don't see them again. I pass the crosses and feel a shiver down my spine as my eyes tear up. I hurriedly walk away and the feeling passes.

I reach the highway and my eyesight is blurring. I'm exhausted and my balance is off, repeatedly stopping to steady myself to keep from falling onto the grass or into the road. I reach the last peak, and the lights stop. I'm walking on the sidewalk on the left side of the road now, and grab my flashlight, illuminating the way in front of me mostly to be visible to oncoming traffic as I cross an unmarked intersection.

Finally. In the distance. The church. The parking lot. My car that I left unattended for hours, most likely. I approach, checking again for broken windows and find none. The wind is strong and almost knocking me over. I unlock the car and put my things inside, sans the pepper spray, flashlight, and gas. Closing the door, pop my gas flap and begin the slow process of figuring out how the fuck to put the gas in my car with five pieces of plastic that combine to make a nozzle, and no instructions. Eventually the can is empty, and I put it back in the trunk. Now the oil. Grab the oil from inside, loop the pepper spray around my wrist, and turn on the flashlight to pop the hood. There's STILL residual heat coming from the engine. I put the hood all the way up and open the screw-top thing for the oil. No funnel, just gotta pour carefully. Empty the whole quart, hope it's enough to get home safe. Sudden gust of wind, the hood falls on me. Pissed off, I open it back up and curse, putting the screw-top thing back in place. Close the empty bottle of oil and throw it in the cab. I'm so done. Get back in my car. Almost out of gas. Drive down to the shitty gas station and get more gas, after an unpleasant encounter with the clerk. Hope that three gallons is enough to get home because now I'm, like, a dollar short for that car payment. Vaugely hoping that it'll wait until midnight when I get paid. Get back on the highway, phone plugged in and gps open. A few miles down, the cab is hot again. Ac/heat still off. Obviously it wasn't just the oil. I crack the windows to get rid of the heat and smoke smell. Stop at an autozone, they're about to close. I get some engine coolant that my car says it's out of. REALLY short for that car payment now. Sit outside as the nice autozone worker looks at my car and shows me where to put the coolant, and instructs me to wait AT LEAST an hour and a half after turning off the car before adding it. Tells me that it might not be what is causing the heat and smoke smell, though, just help with the overheating engine. I sit on the curb looking at my car with the hood up as the nice autozone people (who know me -and my car year make & model- by sight when I walk in the store these days. Honestly, after the sixth trip in Febuary, I got a rewards card because why the fuck not) close up for the night around me. One on them comes up to me and asks if I'm waiting to add the coolant. I honestly reply that I'm just debating drinking the coolant instead. I feel bad when he looks a bit upset. He's always so nice. I get up, decide I might as well go home and add the coolant in the morning. Head home following the gps. Drive for fifteen minutes before I notice I'm passing the SAME AUTOZONE and heading the opposite direction this time. Am pissed and woreed about gas. Finally get home, leave my shit in the car, and head inside. Check my phone. It's fucking 11. I'm so fucking done. My ankle fucking hurts. My car's still fucked up and I'm still broke. I check my bank account and see the car payment hasn't gone through yet. Hopefully it'll wait until tomorrow when I get paid. Force myself to eat a few bites of food becore going to bed.

In the morning I wake up early. Check my account, and sometime between when I got home and when I got paid, my car payment bounced. $25 return fee. Fml. Almost get into a wreck. Car's still blowing hot air with a hint of smoke. I'm late for work somehow. Life sucks. I tell my coworker I don't want to drive her there again. She gets pissed. My ankle throbs. This is my week.

So, like. Hope this was entertaining? Idk. Half wanted to vent, half wanting to see if anyone else knows WHAT THE FUCK those street markings are supposed to mean. They're too uniform to not be deliberate!

[rayalez]

Notes for the Leader — I

“Today I must bring the notebook,” I tell Min, by which I mean the Leader is visiting the base. Min understands the allusion. He chuckles and gives me a little headshake to show he regrets the news on my behalf.

“What are you going to write in it today?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” I say. “Back alley sewage. ‘Our crusade will end in a triumph to be celebrated for the ages.’ ‘Our people get the mightiest of erections.’ ‘When we pass wind, we pass the wind of 100 stallions.’”

Min looks at me with a look of engineered disbelief. He’s heard this before, but he still plays his part. “Don’t you ever worry he’ll see?”

I put out my cigarette and swig the last of my beer. I wait until the waitress has cleared my glass.

“No, he never looks. And if he did, I’m not certain he’d be able to decipher it. My handwriting is atrocious.” I wink and put my cap on my knee, readying to get up.

“Well, if Sang and Shin pay you a visit one night,” he says, referring to our loving nickname for the secret police, “I expect you to work extra hard in Fun Camp, the treacherous enemy of the people that you are.”

Min throws some money on the table and we walk out the bar onto a chilly but sun-laden sidewalk.

“You need to have the right look,” I tell Min as we walk together to the Ministry.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it takes years of practice, young one, but you learn the tricks. A sincere, earnestness whenever he walks past you; an inquisitive, but never befuddled look when he’s ‘explaining’; a stiff erectness,” I say. “But the most important thing is the laugh.”

“What do you mean?” Min asks, squinting up at me with his hand blocking the sun.

“He likes to think he’s funny, so you have to learn to laugh — really genuinely laugh — when he tries to crack a joke. The thing is — the jokes aren’t funny and his timing is so bad half the time you aren’t sure if he’s even trying to joke. Once an Admiral laughed at something the Leader had said, thinking it was a joke. He was wrong.”

“What happened to the Admiral?”

“You mean Private,” I say, giving Min a little elbow to his side. “I’m kidding,” I continue, wiping my smirk, “He went stark raving mad and drowned in a river one night. No one has seen him since.” I stop in the middle of the sidewalk and face Min, a look a total earnest on my face. “It’s true. He did. They told us.” Min shakes his head smiling and lights up another cigarette.

“But it’s not so much the authenticity of the laugh — he probably knows our laughs are bullshit. And it’s not about making sure you don’t laugh at something he doesn’t intend as a joke. It’s about getting in a mode where you don’t even have to think about it. I mean, for sanity’s sake, the mind needs to wander when you are listening to such tripe.” A senior officer passes by and we pause. I give a strong salute, my head facing straight ahead but my eyes following him until he’s well down the sidewalk.

“So, your mind must be in two places at one time,” I say as we resume walking. “It must be focused on a sunny beach, or a beautiful woman in bed with you, but it also must have a toehold in reality. You don’t want to miss a joke. But if you’ve been around him enough it becomes automatic, like a goose flying south for winter. You subconsciously learn his cadence to the point where you can start anticipating and you can laugh at the correct time without ever really having heard what he said.”

“I don’t think geese fly south for the winter.”

“It’s true. They told us they do. And can you blame them?”

“Has he ever said something that was actually funny?” Min asks, as we turn the corner and stop at the concrete plaza in front of the Ministry.

“No, he’s never said anything funny. But he’s done something funny, not intentionally of course.” I start to smile thinking back on it. Min inquires.

“Well,” I say, “there was this time about a year ago he was wearing a hat and he started to bend over…” Min looks over my shoulder and I stop my recounting to turn around.

Min’s commanding officer, of a lower rank than myself, slithers up and gives me a salute. He’s an empty vessel of a man. I feel bad that Min must report to him.

“Sir, excuse me for interrupting, but if you are no longer needing to speak with the Lieutenant, I would very much like to have his services,” he says speedily.

I look at Min and give a little grin, pretending to size him up from head to toe. “This one? The solider we created out of the balled up tissue paper lying about the floor of some southern whorehouse? He’s no longer any good to me, Captain. Starting to spoil. The smell is incredible. By all means, take him.” I feel bad that I really have no legitimate excuse for keeping Min out of the Captain’s clutches.

“Thank you, sir,” says the Captain. Sternly, he says to Min, “Follow me.”

Min shakes my hand. “I’ll fill you in on the details of the triumphal actions later,” I say and pat him on the back as he leaves. He looks back and tips his cap at me.

I do like Min, although I’m a bad influence on him. We are from the same village. I’m 10 years older and went through the elite command school while he went the normal grunt route. We met at a military exercise one summer where I was his commanding officer. Being from the same village, we knew the same people, the same card games, we drank the same liquor, in the same copious amounts. Min’s a fatalist, like me, and he’s got a good sense of humor, unlike most in this regime.

I’ve taken Min under my wing the past few years while we’ve both been stationed in the Capitol. He’s got a wife and a young child, and I often feel bad for being as indignant as I am around him. I should be more careful, I say to myself, but I suppose it’s therapeutic, talking to him the way I do. I am selfish, but the relationship is reciprocal. Min likes being riled up, and I’m happy to oblige him, although I think these days the shock has certainly worn off. It’s just become what we do.

A pile of papers waits at my desk. “Applications,” my secretary, a Private, tells me. Every year we receive hundreds of applications for entry into the Strategic Nuclear Defense Unit, which — as second in second — I’m charged with reviewing.

With our mighty nuclear weapons, presciently developed and expertly managed by the Dear Leader for the protection of the Fatherland, we will continue to set the world on a new path while crushing the deleterious elements spawned by the capitalistic foreign demons, who — we all know — are running scared and sulking at their impending demise, brought on hand by the goodness and superiority of the Leader.

They all sound like this. In fact, some years ago I ran into someone at a bar who claimed all of these are written by the same guy in the backroom of some shoe shop. Everyone just pays him. I often find myself scrutinizing various letters to see if I can spot similarities in the handwriting.

I shut the door of my office, but my secretary soon knocks and comes in.

“Please do not forget sir that you are expected at the visit with the Leader at 1 pm sharp. It’s now 12:15. Do you have your notebook?”

I lean back in my chair, pull the notebook out of my jacket pocket and wave it for her.

“Pen?”

I hold up my pen.

“Does it work?”

I stare at her sarcastically and start to scribble on some applications. The pen is out of ink. I look up to find her with two pens in her outstretched hand.

“One is red, one is blue. I understand that some senior commanders use red for strategic and technical advice, while blue is reserved for inspirational and doctrinal quotes.”

“Thank you, Sun. I will use both exactly in the manner you have prescribed. But what if a quote is both technical and inspirational at the same time?” I say, pocketing the pens.

She ignores the question. “Sir, I beg your forgiveness, but may I suggest brushing your teeth or using some mouth wash before the visit with the Leader? I couldn’t help but notice some alcohol on your breath.”

“Does the Leader not like that?” I ask, trying to act sincere.

“My uncle, the Sargent in the army, he’s heard that such conduct could result in some necessary refresher courses.” By this, Sun means reconditioning at a labor camp.

I lie. “I will brush my teeth, Sun.”

Sun smiles. “Sun,” I say, “am I a good man or bad man?”

“You should know the answer if you have to ask,” she replies.

I turn to look out the window and see white and black shop fronts blazing by in tones of gray. Our driver is speeding us through the Capitol at full speed, ignoring all traffic signals. Our haste is unnecessary but it’s for the best. I’m joined by General Nann, a man with the personality of a cracker and the warmth of a cinder blocker whose nostrils are permanently flared, small black hairs poking out of them like porcupine quills. He’s my superior so I am forced to play a part.

“General Nann, any news with our glorious Navy?”

“Any news I have could not be shared with a Colonel,” he says coldly, staring out his window.

“I am sure we are enjoying many triumphs and making great progress under your leadership,” I reply. We sit in silence.

The car flies like a rocket ship out of the capitol and onto the open highway, zipping past billboards of the Leader and ramshackle houses. At a tiny village on the outskirts of the Capitol a dozen young children run up to our car, some with shoes and some without. They clap and hand us handmade silk flowers. Their elation is genuine, though I see the younger ones seem a bit confused. Our driver, a young man in a cheap black suit, hands them some money and we speed off, nearly hitting an old woman pushing a cart.

As we head out into the open fields, I see peasants with windswept faces. They look up at us like we are an alien race that has lorded over them for a long while. I give them a little wave from the window.

“Do you have some connection to these people?” asks Nann.

“No, but I am from a farming family myself.”

“Are you parents still alive?”

“No, my mother died of an illness years ago. My father drowned crossing a river.”

“Why was he crossing a river?” asks Nann. Nann’s family has been in the Capitol for generations. He’s long lost any connection to rural life.

“He needed to get his herd across. A small calf was struggling so he went back to help it and was swept away. I was in military school at the time and got word of it only three months later so I wasn’t able to attend to his burial. Amazingly, two days after he died the calf was found on the riverbank eating grass. It had survived.” I pause to let Nann say something, but he keeps quiet.

“It was given to my cousin who still lives in the village. He wrote me and told me he would tend to it and that I may have it whenever I like. I wrote him back and told him he should sell the animal and buy a well with the proceeds. I heard a couple years ago he didn’t pay heed to my advice. Instead he lost the animal in a card game.”

Nann looks annoyed. “To die for a calf,” he says, chuckling and raising his chin.

I’d like to hit him in the face; he has no idea, the value of a calf to rural folk. Of course, I do not tell him this. Besides, the story is a lie — some of it at least.

“How did you get chosen then, to go to the school for elites?”

Nann knows exactly why I was chosen — everyone does. He just wants me to have to say it.

“I was fortunate — hard work and pleasing the right people, sir.”

Nann laughs. “You mean knowing the right people, don’t you? Tell me, doesn’t the school require a literacy test for entry? As a farmer’s son, how the hell did you pass that?”

I am about to answer but Nann puts a finger up, telling me to halt while he grabs for the vibrating cell phone in his pocket.

“Yes?”

“There should be.”

“Driving to visit the Leader.”

“Some colonel.”

Nann looks at me and shifts his body in the direction of his window.

“Well, set him loose.”

“I don’t know — out in the alleyway. It doesn’t matter.”

Nann laughs.

“Yes, tonight. After 10pm.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Okay, I need to go.”

“Yes, you too.”

“Sir, I was literate by the time I came to the school. My mother taught me how to read and write,” I say right as Nann has finished putting his phone back in his pocket.

He looks over at me, almost in disbelief that I’ve decided to continue the conversation. “And how did a peasant woman from the fields know how to read and write?” he asks, wide-eyed and staring at my feet.

“She owes it all to our great country and the most Venerable Grandfather,” I say, referring to the Leader’s grandfather. “Our village was graced with a contingent of learned revolutionaries from the Capitol. This was maybe, oh, 35 years ago,” I say, itching my forehead and looking out the window to see the Xan Xi Nuclear Base emerging from the horizon.

“I do not recall such a program. My father was closely connected to rural programs in those years, and he never mentioned any rural literacy training. Are you sure she wasn’t educated by western infiltrators?” Nann sneers.

The truth is, my mother learned to read and write from my father. I would never tell Nann that because I would never tell Nann how my father learned to read and write.

“Yes, sir, very sure,” I answer.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Nann patting his breast pocket. He reaches in and pulls out nothing, looking crestfallen.

“I have forgotten my notebook,” he says gravely, looking me in the eyes for the first time. His face shows like a five year old child who’s about to whipped by his father for the first time.

“That is most unfortunate, sir. Are you sure it’s not in your briefcase?” I ask.

Nann rummages in his brief case, over and over, even tipping its contents out in the space between us. He checks his breast pocket, his back pockets, his breast pocket again. Meanwhile, our car pulls into the base’s parking lot and I see our driver peer into his rear view mirror, his eyes widening as he does so.

“The leader’s motorcade is right behind us,” the driver says, surprised. “He is early today! I will let you hop out so you can get in the greeting line.” The driver hits the accelerator and bolts us to the base’s front entrance area before he slams on the brakes, sending us lurching forward.

“Please, sirs, please get out as soon as you can. I will be sent to re-education if I hold up the Leader’s motorcade for even a second,” our driver says, in the most obsequiously urgent tone imaginable.

I jump out of the car, and pull General Nann out with me. In two parallel lines in front of the base’s main entrance are dozens of esteemed officers, most of them generals, readying themselves for the Leader to emerge from his limousine and walk between them, shaking hands and laughing and giving salutes. All the men are dressed in their finest dress uniforms. Nann and I are the missing pieces of the greeting line.

I hurry forth to one of the lines, seeing our car speed off and the Leader’s limousine about to park in front of the greeting line. Just then, I feel a pull on my back pockets. Nann pulls me in close.

“Give me your fucking notebook,” he grunts.

“Sir, I cannot do that.”

“You can and you fucking will!” says Nann. “I am your ranking officer and I will see that you are put to death if you don’t give me your notebook.”

I look over and see the Leader’s right-hand man emerge from the passenger seat of the limosine and walk over to the back of the limo to let the Leader out. At this moment, the breath comes out of me and I nearly hit the ground. Nann’s fist is mighty, for an old man. Bent over holding my stomach, he reaches over my back and pulls the notebook from my back pocket.

The Leader spews from the limousine and a round of applause erupts. Notebook-less, I run to a spot in one of the lines, squeezing myself between two generals who nearly refuse to budge for me. I see Nann already in place in the other line, beaming and clapping with my notebook in hand. He doesn’t betray a hint of having mugged me just seconds ago. A perniciously adroit bastard, I think to myself.

The Leader is in all black today, but he radiates the energy of the sun. I have a difficult time looking directly at him (I always do), but I notice he has put on some weight since I lost saw him. Everything else about him, however, remains the same — the smile, the boyish face, the penguinish walk and the made up award he always has pinned on his jacket. He walks down the tunnel of officers, like a Roman general celebrating his triumph, ping ponging from line to line in order to shake hands of a few select generals and receive compliments.

I stare at Nann in the other line. I know he can sense I’m looking at him as he keeps his gaze transfixed on the Leader. The Leader zags to an Army General a few people to my left who gives a gentle bow and tells the Leader he’s most honored by his presence. I realize I’ve subconsciously started to clap very hard and I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. Fortunately, within seconds, the Leader has made his way down the line and I ease up.

Once the Leader enters the base doors, the two lines of generals and other officers collapse into an unorganized herd, some groveling to get close to the front and others, like myself, reclining to the back of the scrum. As soon as we all start to walk into the base the notebooks start to come out and the pens start to click. What the hell am I going to do without a notebook, I ask myself.

I look ahead and see Nann with my notebook. I’ve been so distracted wondering what I’m going to do without it that I’ve forgotten that he has full access to my scribblings. If he reads them, he will see them as treason. At best, I will be labeled an idle and irreverent bourgeoisie pig, at worst, a full-out counter-revolutionary and enemy to the people. I will be put to death. Those stupid, sarcastic scribblings, I think to myself.

In only a minute we’ll all be lined up again next to the Leader, expected to devote our entire attentions to him. There’s no way Nann will be able to read my notebooks under such conditions, I think. But then I see him open up the notebook and begin to flip through the pages in slow succession as we make our way down the corridor. I curse him under my breath, finding myself for half a second more infuriated that he has the audacity to invade my private writings than scared with what he will see.

He keeps flipping as we make our way down a large corridor toward the missile display area, a ponderous mass of high-ranking cattle being led to a pen. I keep my eyes on Nann’s back. At one point, he looks over his shoulder, perhaps trying to find me. He doesn’t, I’m off to the other side.

I begin to feel like I’m in my own funeral procession as we make the long, slow march. Or perhaps I am on the great river between the worlds, my body gently being carried down the eternal current. Instead of a gentle trickle of water, however, the only noise I can hear is the hard clopping of two dozen standard-issued military dress boots. My impending transition from the earth is thus made all the more depressing.

I look down and see I am clutching my wallet. Without thinking, I must have pulled it out of my back pocket. It seems that my subconscious mind may still be in survival mode. I can use the wallet as a stand in. Flip it open and pretend it’s a leather bound notebook. It’s a dreadful plan.

We all file into the missile display area, a cavernous room with skylights and a pristine concrete floor. Enormous banners featuring the beaming faces of the Leader and his father and grandfather hang down from the ceiling. Every type of missile in our nuclear arsenal is on display like a trophy, neatly buffed and glimmering. The new missile, the one I’ve been working on for years with a cadre of officers — is the centerpiece of the room. A long red carpet juts out from underneath it like a frog’s tongue, inviting the Leader to step on and walk toward it, which he does. He approaches the missile at a quick pace, putting both hands on it and then his ear, like he’s listening to a seashell. He rubs his fingers up and down the shaft and gets eye level with it. I half expect him to start kicking it like he would the wheels of a new car.

The Leader starts to walk around the missile, as we form a semi-circle around him. I try to keep a step behind the others, attempting to conceal my hands and my wallet as much as possible.

“This is a mighty missile!” the Leader exclaims, proceeding with his slow walk around the missile. Everyone writes this in their notebooks. I pretend to do so as well.

The Leader continues on. He’s in a fiery mood today, more so than usual. “There is an ancient proverb my grandfather told me. Once there was a snake and a fox. The snake told the fox that he should be careful, for the fox stood on land belonging to the snake. The fox told the snake that he should be careful since he was standing on the fox’s land. While they were having this discussion, a mighty ox came and sat down on both the snake and the fox. I will call this missile, the Ox!”

“Are you insane?” a voice whispers into my ear. It is an air force general, one whom I’ve never really spoken to before. He glances down at my flipped open wallet and back at me, a look of total disbelief in his face. Before I can even react, the general fixes his gaze back on the Leader and laughs at a joke. I laugh as well.

“Yes, my friends! What good is a shield without a sword? The first men invented swords, then shields, not the other way around. A shield only buys you a little bit of time, a sword buys you a lifetime!” continues the Leader.

At this moment, I look straight across the room and find Nann staring at me. His eyes look like two river rocks — pallid, opaque and dead. His mouth is taut and menacing, like a piranha. As he stares at me with those pale eyes, I see a slow, almost imperceptible turn of his head from side to side.

The Leader departs from the missile and begins to walk along the inside of the semi-circle, looking closely into the face of each officer and moving towards me like a storm cloud. Those he passes keep one eye on him and one on their notebook, writing furiously.

“We will build several hundred of these. We will ship them to all nations hostile to the foreign devils. We will place these in submarines and in satellites. And one day, one day we shall use them. My father said that a sword rusts and turns hollow if it is never used. So too with our missiles. They must be used before they blow away like sand.”

The Leader is halfway through the semi-circle, five men away from me.

“We will be like the river that chose to cut directly through the mountain, rather than around it. We will…” Three men away.

“…and they will all kowtow to me and denounce their capitalist…”

The Leader stops midsentence, right in front of me, the closest I’ve ever been to him. I keep my eyes fixed at the neck, noticing a large mole. I sense when he begins glancing at my wallet, struggling to make sense of what he sees. He then peers straight at me, his look registering not as a visual but as a sound inside my head — a menagerie of circus animals jumping on a drum. He begins to open his mouth to say something when a security officer runs swiftly to him and begins to whisper in his ear. The Leader listens, keeping his eyes set on me, studying my features. After a minute or so, the Leader nods and turns around.

He walks at a brisk pace straight up to Nann, his hand outstretched like a teacher asking a pupil to hand over a frog they’ve snuck into class. Nann looks surprised but instantly hands the Leader my notebook. He opens it and begins reviewing the pages. The generals and other officers in the semi-circle all stand erect. Outwardly they look like stones, but inside their minds must be frantic with questions.

“Do you think you are going to die? Are you shitting yourself at this point?” asks Min. We are in my living room having some sweet white wine, our ties loosened and our shoes kicked off.

“Yes, most definitely I am, my friend.” I answer.

“What happened then?”

“Two security officers position themselves behind Nann. I look at Nann and sense he must’ve heard them come up from behind. At that moment, his expression changed. It went from that cold, dead fish look to real terror.”

“Did he try explaining that it wasn’t his notebook?”

“No, he remained silent. I believe he was at a loss for words, the bastard. He did look at me though. It’s funny that sometimes we humans can give off two looks at the same time. Nann’s was a mix of both shock and utter hatred, towards me of course. After a minute or so, the Leader very slowly closed the notebook and handed it to his head security person. He said something — I couldn’t hear what — and within seconds Nann was being carted away into the abyss.”

“Do you know what caused the Leader to approach him in the first place?”

“While reading my scribblings in the corridor, someone must’ve looked over Nann’s shoulder and read some of them as well. Thinking the notebook was Nann’s all along, the person must’ve reported him to the security detail.”

“Does anyone know where he is now?” asks Min.

“No one I know has a clue. He’s likely dead, though he could be in prison.”

“And if he’s in prison and tells them that it was really your notebook, what are you going to do?”

I lean back in the chair and take a deep draw from my cigarette. “I don’t know, Min. I guess I will know when that time comes. To be honest, this possibility haunts me. I feel like I’m swimming in a black ocean and there’s sharks somewhere below. Someday those sharks will take off my leg. That’s not the worst part though. The worst part is not knowing when it will happen.”

I make a conscious choice to continue talking, feeling like grandfather rambling to his grandchild. I’m sure this irritates Min, but I proceed.

“As I’ve grown older, I’ve lost confidence and I’ve grown more anxious. You often hear that the young are full of self-confidence and bluster. That’s true. But no one ever talks about losing confidence. If everyone says the young are so confident, and no one says the old are full of confidence, then by definition we lose confidence as we age. Maybe the confidence is supposed to turn into wisdom and self-assuredness, if that’s at all different from confidence — I don’t know if it is. But I don’t have that. I have self-doubt; I have this burgeoning anxiety, not just about the big things, but about the small things too. I see more errors in my ways; I second guess myself often. A task that use to be so easy now leaves me paralyzed with conflicting thoughts and worries about what might happen. I don’t think I display this outwardly — I’m alright at deception — but it’s there, inside me. When I was younger, I’d just do anything asked and I’d do it quickly and forthrightly. Maybe I’d do a crappy job, but I had that confidence and confidence goes a long way in the eyes of others. Confidence can shine crap into gold. But I’ve lost that ability.”

I pause and look over at Min. He gives a smile and rests his head back.

Notes for the Leader — I was originally published in Fiction Hub on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

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