#cloud walkers crew

[astarionapologist]

Negan x Reader

Unlikely Sanctuary

Setting: beginning of season 10 when Alexandria deals with the small waves of walkers.

Prompt: After dealing with the countless waves of Walkers stumbling upon Alexandria’s doorsteps. Getting supplies to and from Hilltop has been more difficult. A missing shipment of Medical supplies to Alexandria results with you and Negan setting out to go and find it. That is until things go completely wrong.

Warnings: N/A mainly fluff a bit angsty and relationship building/slow burn

I was also in the middle of writing this when I got a request that kinda perfectly fit with this so whoever asked… please enjoy!

Request: would you write some negan x reader?? angsty platonic negan being caring abt u. u get hurt maybe including "cmon look at me. open your eyes darlin" (I switched darlin for hon in this fic… I KNOW IM SORRY SHOOT ME. I just thought it fit a little better this time around 😢)

The numbing pain in your cheeks from the biting cold was all you could feel. Your body moved sluggishly as you worked tirelessly for the fifth consecutive night to protect Alexandria’s walls from the relentless waves of Walkers. Whether the Whisperers were behind this assault or not, your mind was too clouded with the struggle to stay awake to focus on that. You paused for a moment, pinching the space between your eyes with your head hung low, when a gentle hand settled on your shoulder. Turning, you saw Michonne, a look of worry etched on her face.

“Y/N I have a job for you.”

“What is it? Anything new news with the Whispers or-?”

“Possibly… we’re missing a shipment that was due yesterday. And with these ongoing herds I’m worried there’s a chance something happened…”

“I need you to rest for tonight and save your energy for tomorrow morning. I want you to look for the shipment and help deliver it here. Please…. I wish I could send you out there with someone but… we’re short-handed . If you’re unsure I don’t mind going instead. I just need you to take over while I’m gone.”

“That would be unnecessary, I have someone to accompany Y/N. Someone who’s in dire need of a job.”

Gabriel says a bit tense as he looks over to motion over at Negan who was currently on clean up duty discarding any piled up walkers.

“You can’t be serious….” Michonne mumbled under her breath.

“I can assure you I am. He is perfectly able to go out and work. Keeping him here to shovel up the dead when he’s more useful outside is just foolish.” Gabriel sighs heavily

"Listen up, Padre. I get that you're putting yourself on the line to get me in with your little mystery crew. But honestly? I'd rather be out here picking tomatoes and burying corpses. So, if it's all the same to you, I'll stick to that." He says in heavy breaths as he wipes the sweat off his brows.

“Tsk he’d be more of a pain then an actual use.” Michonne says under her breath.

“You can fight! And Y/N can’t go alone it’s too dangerous!” Gabriel begins to shout

“Peanut butter meet Jelly!….” He says motioning his hands to both you and Negan.

“He’s going end of discussion” Gabriel ends the conversation while storming off to another issue that needs his attention.

“Well shit…” You quietly heard Negan.

“Look Michonne don’t worry about me okay? I think I can manage with Negan it’s not so big of a deal” You say calmly. You've heard the tales of how ruthless Negan was when he led the Saviors, a cold-blooded force on the battlefield who didn't believe in mercy. Yet, mercy was exactly what he received from Rick Grimes. Despite all the stories, you remained unfazed. You were not someone to be controlled by cautionary tales, nor one to believe blindly in them. Even so you weren’t exactly excited to go on this run with Negan but at least him coming along meant the risk of making it back was a lot higher.

*

The next morning, you stood beside Negan, waiting for the gate to open. It was time to set off and discover what had happened to the missing delivery. The journey itself was quiet for a while, of course until Negan started getting a bit talkative….

"Hey, you ever think about what you'd be doing if all this hadn't happened?" Negan asks, glancing sideways at you.

You keep your eyes on the road ahead, but decide to answer. "I try not to. Seems like a waste of energy, you know? Thinking about what could've been."

Negan nods, seeming to appreciate your honesty. "Yeah, I get that. But sometimes I can't help it. Before all this, I was a high school gym teacher. Can you believe that?"

“Honestly kinda? Pegged you for the type who probably peaked in high school.”

“Ouch… maybe you’re not wrong but shit man! Did ya have to be so blunt?” He chuckles

“Besides what did you even do before the world when to shit?”

You hesitate, then decide to share. "I worked in an office. Not very exciting, but it paid the bills."

“Wasting away in an old office huh? What a snore, but hey! Excitement isn't everything. Stability's got its perks."

“Yeah I guess so-” and awkward chuckle escapes your lips as you wonder why he suddenly started pointless idle chatter.

"So," you say, trying to kill the short awkward silence "you ever miss it? Teaching, I mean."

Negan's expression softens. "Sometimes.”

“Miss the kids, mostly. They were a good bunch. But you can't dwell on the past too much, right? Gotta keep moving forward."

“Right… forwards” Something about him talking about moving forwards kind of ticked you off. He’s the reason why so many of the people you care about are stuck in the past and for some reason he’s allowed to just move forward?

Negan looks at you, his gaze more serious now. "Listen, I know you've heard things about me. About what I did. And I don't expect you to forget that. But I'm trying to be different now. Trying to make up for some of it." He sighs distantly looking forward onto the trail ahead.

You nod slowly.

"I get it," Negan says. "Trust is earned, not given. But for what it's worth, I'm glad we're out here together. Feels nice stepping out a bit and talking to someone who doesn’t immediately want to cut my head off.”

“For what it’s worth… I‘ve always been one to believe actions speak louder than words”

“Yeah? Well thanks… it means a lot.” A smile forms on his lips as he lets out a small yet warm laugh

The conversation fades into a more comfortable silence, and as you continue on your way, you find that the initial awkwardness is slowly being replaced by a tentative sense of camaraderie.

The day quickly fades, and you soon realize you need to find a place to set up camp. Fortunately, you passed an old cabin a couple of miles back. If you hurry, you might be able to make it there before the sun sets.

"Hey, it's getting late. We should head back to the cabin we found earlier. It's not too far, and if we leave now, we can probably make it before dark."

Negan pauses and looks up at the dwindling light in the sky above him. “Hm, yeah, you’re right. Good call. Better than being alone in the forest, easy prey for these deadheads, right?"

About half an hour later, you're halfway to the cabin when you notice a Walker roaming closer to you in the woods. You find it strange how quiet these woods have been. This is the first walker you've encountered during your run. The woods have been unnervingly lifeless and still, with little to no animals in sight. You’re far enough from the masses of herds that stumbled into Alexandria, so they shouldn't have disturbed the wildlife here. Yet, you stand on edge with a chill up your spine, as if you can feel many unwanted eyes staring at you.

“I got this one” You say pulling out your hatchet

The Walker staggered closer, its guttural moans breaking the eerie silence of the woods. With a swift, practiced motion, you drew your hatchet, its blade gleaming in the fading light. The hatchet whistled through the air, embedding itself with a sickening thud into the walker's skull. For a moment, there was silence, the hatchet was pulled free, the only sound left was a faint rustle.

As soon as the first walker appeared, another followed close behind. Then two more, then three. Before long, a small herd had formed, lazily shuffling side to side like a mindless group of cattle.

“Stay on guard… we’re not alone.” Negan said drawing out his crowbar stained with the blood of the dead.

“They’re here…”

“There’s too many of them… we have to act fast, make a run for it if we have to.” You stand at a ready position ready to either commit to fighting or flighting.

“I hear ya, but we don’t know the difference between the Walkers and the Whispers yet…” he pauses slightly at the end and exhales deeply “Stay close you hear?”

You nod at Negan, shifting a bit closer to him. "You're right," you say, eyes darting around the shadowy woods. "But we can't afford to stay here. Let's move."

With that, you both take off through the underbrush, the walkers' moans growing louder behind you. The forest floor is uneven, roots and rocks hidden beneath a blanket of leaves. Your breath comes in quick gasps, and your heart pounds in your chest. The adrenaline pushes you forward, but a misplaced step sends you crashing down. A sharp pain shoots through your ankle

“Fuck- shit shit shit” a small whimper escapes your mouth

“Negan!”you cry out, clutching your leg.

Negan skids to a halt and rushes back to your side. "Dammit," he mutters, glancing at the rapidly approaching walkers. "Shhh you’re okay don’t worry just hang on." He hefts you up, throwing your arm over his shoulder

Despite the searing pain, you try to keep moving. Negan's strong grip and determination push you both forward, but the walkers are relentless. He swings his crowbar, bashing in heads and keeping the undead at bay. One walker lunges, and he shoves it back its skull cracking under the force of his blow.

“I don’t know how long I can’t keep going” a deep and shaky inhale leaving your breath

“Just a bit further hold on. Just say with me”

Negan spots a narrow ravine up ahead, partially hidden by dense undergrowth."There," he says, pointing. "We'll lose them in there."

“A choke point… smart we’ll lose them all hopefully Walkers and Whispers alike.

He helps you hobble toward the ravine, the ground becoming steeper and more treacherous. As you descend into the shadows, the moans of the walkers grow fainter. The dense foliage and uneven terrain slow them down, giving you both a chance to catch your breath.

"We need to keep moving," Negan urges, his voice low and urgent. "They'll figure out a way around eventually."

You try and stand, a sharp pain consumes your ankle as you stumble on forward, fortunately enough Negan catches you before you completely fall.

“Shit- hey settle down okay? I’ll carry you the rest of the way. We’re only about a mile or two away we’ll make it”

“N-no I’m fine I can do this, I don’t need help” You stand up again this time you stumble forwards and fall into your hands and knees”

“Jesus Christ do not fucking do this right now”

“Whatever this is? Pride, embarrassment, Fear? I need you to fucking swallow it and let me help you.” He’s agitated but nonetheless somewhat patient.

“No… just-“

“Just what Y/N? If you think I’ll just happily fuck off and leave you hanging you’re wrong”

“Just think… I can’t keep walking, we make it to the cabin then what? What if they find us how… long until I just drag you down and end up taking you down with me?” You respond in a low shaky voice looking down at the floor

He shakes his head and sighs “cmon… look at me.” He notices how tightly you have your eyes shut as you silently shake with fear.

“Open your eyes hon….” he says, squatting down to meet your gaze. His hand gently rests on your knee, offering a steady, reassuring presence.

“I’m sure as hell ain’t leaving you behind… besides if I did I’m sure they’d hang me back home” he chuckles a bit then shakes his head at his own stupidity

Negan looks at you, a serious expression crossing his face. "I ain't leaving you, alright? You're something rare in this shitshow of a world. You've got hope in people. Even in people like me. Hell, I thought you'd rather take your chances alone than with some shit-faced old man who's done a lot of crappy things. But you... you’re putting me first, and that’s something beautiful in a world like this one. You’re a good person, Y/N. You don’t deserve to die cruelly or horribly. And definitely not alone. So if you're staying, you best fucking believe I'm staying too."

“W-what?” You look up in shock of what he just said

"You can't stay here! You have to leave, please," you plead, your voice trembling. "I'll only slow you down." Desperation and fear lace every word.

“Hmmm think I am gonna stay right here” a coy smile displayed on his lips

“Unless… I don’t know” He taps on his chin “ I carry you the rest of the way to the cabin?”

“I’m being serious here you can’t-”

“Oh so am I. What is it going to be hon? Are we stayin’ or??”

“Fine- shit fuck okay…” you put your arms in your hands embarrassed at how full circle this scenario just became.

“Good answer!!” He chuckles squaring done so you can easily climb on his back.

With renewed determination, you both push forward. The forest is still eerily quiet, but the sense of being watched has diminished. As the sun dips lower in the sky, you finally spot the outline of the cabin through the trees.

"There!" you whisper, pointing at the small rundown cabin.

Negan helps you into to the cabin quickly setting you on a sofa not to far from the entrance. The small, rustic interior feels like a sanctuary compared to the dangers outside.

Negan collapses against the wall, breathing heavily. "That was too close," he says, wiping sweat and blood from his brow. He looks over at you, concern in his eyes. "How's that ankle?"

“Shit” you say inspecting the injury “But thankfully not too shitty, I just glad we made it okay”

He nods, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah, we did." He stands, offering you a hand. "Let's see if we can find something to patch you up. We're not out of this yet."

The night finally settles in, the oppressive darkness of the forest pressing against the cabin walls. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't find anything useful for your ankle. Negan managed to rig up a crate as a makeshift stool to elevate it, offering some small relief. He strides to the fireplace and swiftly gets to work, expertly bring a fire to life without wasting a moment.

"Rest up, okay? I'll take the first watch," Negan says, his voice softer than usual, a protective edge to it.

You nod, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. The adrenaline has worn off, leaving you bone-tired and achingly aware of your injury. As you lie back, the faint crackle of the fire and the steady rhythm of Negan's breathing become a comforting backdrop. You close your eyes, trusting him to keep you safe, and slowly drift off to sleep.

Omg I haven’t wrote anything in forever but I’m so glad I did! Again srry for any spelling mistakes! I also plan on maybe making a part two for this so keep an eye out for that one! Let me know what you think and feel free to request! Thanks you bye<3

[jackiequick]

TOP GUN OCs Part 3 ✈️

-> Click here to see the other parts

—

Nurse Jordana "Echo" Walker 🩺

Callsign: Echo

Age: 38

Relationship status: Divorced, Single

Background: Jordana, known as "Echo," is a skilled medical doctor in the squadron. She earned her callsign due to her exceptional diagnostic skills and the ability to provide vital medical support during missions. Her father was a renowned military surgeon, which inspired her to pursue a career in medicine.

Personality: Compassionate, charming, level-headed, and dedicated to her patients' well-being.

Lifestyle: Echo leads a fulfilling life, both personally and professionally, and is committed to her role as a doctor.

Nicknames: Her colleagues often refer to her as "Jor” or “Jordan”

Extra information: What she loves the most is getting get nails dirty and behind the wheel of a car or plane, ever since she was a child she was fancied by the way Navy pilots took the skies and feel like nothing even better once they’re above the clouds. That feeling of watching the world spin around while your frozen to your seat in the air and the adrenaline you get afterwards. 

She was flying for a while in the late 90s—early 2000s, when she saw plenty of pilots become jet washed and she didn’t like it one bit, hearing stories about plenty being injured on the job and not a lot of staff on board, so that resulted in her taking up a medical exam. A few short months later, she started working alongside nurses and doctors to help nurse pilots back to health. Which is where she met Captain Maverick Mitchell, as he was injured after flight testing and sent to the medical wing of the North Islands to get check up, he was charming and thanked her for cleaning up his wounds.

With a smile Jor told Mav, “You gotta be more careful next time, Captain.” Maverick just grinned and nodding, saying he’ll try to best more cautious even though sometimes tells him, he will be back in this medical wing a few short months later. And he was right, meeting Jor again as she was sewing his wounds near his eyebrow. That time, he brought a friend who got hurt with him. Wraith. So she had two patients to nurse back to health, thankfully they weren’t that badly affected from the crash. Just a few cuts, bumps and bruises.

It didn’t take long for Jor to meet the rest of the 86 crew members, as Hollywood, Wolfman and Slider would make appearances at the hospital along with their friends Iceman, Buzz, Valkyrie, Sunset and others. Sometimes it was for checkups, other times to see some of their friends at the clinic but sometimes they just liked hanging out with the staff. Mainly because they were good people.

Captain Apollo "Mack" McCleary🔐

Callsign: Mack

Age: 42

Background: Mack, known simply as "Mack," is a control room operator. He earned his callsign due to his impeccable skills in managing communications and mission coordination. His precision and reliability make him an essential part of the squadron.

Personality: Analytical, total sweetheart, humorous, reliable, and a natural problem-solver.

Lifestyle: Mack has a steady and disciplined lifestyle, often working long hours in the control room.

Relationship Status: Mack is married to his high school sweetheart.

Nicknames: His colleagues affectionately call him "Mac."

Extra information: Apollo has been in the multiple square areas and has been working ever since he started back in 2005 in the Navy, wanting to be apart of Blue Angels and be behind the controls. He has always been one to have honest honor and respect towards everyone around him, putting his trust and thoughts into pilots he believes who can take the heat as he navigates them from the operations center. Such as Iceman, he would give all his attention and follow his leadership, as he stands back in the frontline of the control room sending up to the skies.

But it also gets him into a lot of trouble, due to him listening to Maverick during the Darkstar Project for Mach 10! Apollo knew it was supposed to be canceled that day, but a part of him though they gone so far into the process of making a jet that can go hypersonic it was worth a final flight according to Maverick. So Mack and his team got to quick work setting everything up in the control room launching Maverick into the air as he commuted with him from the ground reaching Mach 10–but it cost him and Hondo in some trouble with Admiral Cain afterwards. Even though, Apollo got into some trouble he was secretly grinning due to the fact that they achieved that purpose for the project, running home to his high school sweetheart to tell them to the good news.

Afterwards, Hondo gave him a call telling Mack he would be sent to Top Gun to help manage communication and mission coordinations. He was humorous about the fact that he would be returning back to North Island. But he always knew that he would never have a bad reputation there, since one of his friends/lieutenants Fanboy Garcia and Payback Fitch would be sent out the same mission too. So let’s just say things got interesting when he saw how The Dagger Squad decided to challenge Maverick, because Mack was waiting for every single one of them for their push-ups with a smirk.

Mack had his arms crossed and said, “It was all shits and giggles, huh? Drop down and start giving me 10 then we’ll raise it to 20.” All the Daggers glared at him, dropping down giving him 20 push ups as Hondo grinned counting them.

Naomi "Nova" Reynolds🍻

Callsign: Nova

Age: 28

Relationship Status: Single

Background: Naomi, known as "Nova," is a bartender who owns a popular bar near the naval base. Her callsign reflects her vibrant and outgoing personality, which lights up the atmosphere in her establishment. She serves as a source of support and encouragement for the Navy personnel and fighter pilots who frequent her bar.

Personality: Charismatic, welcoming, and known for her sense of humor.

Lifestyle: Nova enjoys a social and active lifestyle, always looking to bring joy to those around her. But she also sassy, knowledgeable due to being a bartender so she knows secrets, and loves karaoke.

Nicknames: She's often referred to as "No" by her regular customers. The women know the rules for the bar set by Penny Benjamin, so she doesn’t have a problem telling people “No”, or “No roughhousing, take it outside.”

Extra information: Naomi never really knew what she wanted to do in (still doesn’t to be honest), as she always has dreams and aspirations for things but as time files so quickly it feels like those ideals weren’t coming as fast as she wanted. As Naomi always said she wanted to be a writer, a musician of some kind finding herself making stories and music, then posting them on social media for some sort of attraction. One afternoon, at The Hard Deck she decided to take a chance singing on the small stage with her old guitar and caught a few eyes.

Penny, the owner of the bar saw how nice of an impression she made on the crowd and offered her a chance to sing whenever she wants. She even asked if she was open to working at the bar as well, Naomi didn’t mind it at all and agreed to Penny’s offer. Training under her and practicing bartending. And to be honest, Naomi loved it!

Working at The Hard Deck made her smile, let her have some fixable schedules since she had an active lifestyle and socialize with brand new people everyday. It resulted in her meeting some friends such as Lucky Kenner, who she already met before she started working there, and the rest of the Daggers. Anyone who walks into the bar, she’s always the first one to greet them at the counter with a smile pouring drinks and taking orders. They would say she’s a sight for sore eyes with an encouraging enough smile.

Jeremy "Renegade" Turner 🗃

Callsign: Renegade

Age: 47

Background: Jeremy, known as "Renegade," grew up in a family with a military tradition. His father was a Navy pilot, and he followed in his footsteps. His callsign reflects his tendency to sometimes push boundaries and sometimes take unconventional approaches during missions, often against orders. Makes sense how he ended up with Maverick as a friend.

Personality: Adventurous, sarcastic and snarky, witty, a bit rebellious, and unafraid to take risks depending on the situation.

Lifestyle: Renegade is a single pilot who leads an adventurous and sometimes unpredictable life, as he’s always sent on missionary work to go undercover and investigate tasks for the Navy. Sometimes it makes him question his line of work and wonder when’s retirement for him again.

Relationship Status: Single

Nicknames: His fellow aviators often call him "Ren" for short.

Extra information: Due to him messing around with Maverick and his gang so much, it makes wonder if he needs new friends, then he remembers Iceman and Wraith are there then he feels a little better. He thinks he’s sarcastic, stubborn as hell and snarky until he met Iceman’s wife Daredevil also known as Hazel, who nicknames him Hawkeye as a joke.

Ren has been working on and off duty for years, everytime he thinks he’s off the hook or thinking retirement is on his way—BAM! He’s given new duties to watch over new records and recruits for TOP GUN, which in his opinion ain’t so bad. He actually liked the new fresh faced students at TOP GUN, being so young and spirited in the way they fly. Some are way cocky for their own good where they get in trouble with their superior officers meanwhile others are trying to keep an low profile and just learn from their own actions.

Ren being well..Ren, always try to get under their skin and see what they’re made of, in small manners. Like let’s say he’s talking to another person and a student is running in the halls, he tells them to not do that but they won’t listen. So in result, Ren would lean a foot outwards causing the student to trip and learn to not run in the hallway. “Oops..i said watch where your going!” Ren said with a little smirk.

Sometimes Ren gets dragged into the craziness of Maverick Mitchell and the others plan. Such as when he was given the role to return to Top Gun as an independent counsel with Hondo and Hazel, having to watch over the team of returning recruits for the highly competitive mission. A few of them, he trained himself being their co-instructor years back, being Payback, Phoenix, Yale and Harvard. Even met Halo once during her classes.

Ren was in charge of being the one up in the far skies and taking notes of the crews flying skills, measuring their speeding length as they went along. Having everything ready for pre and landing as well! Like said beforehand, Ren has a tendency to not always follow orders and end up regularly regretting it later depending on what it is, pushing a few boundaries when it came to Admirals. So in result, he was the one to open the hard deck without Admiral Cyclone’s permission for Maverick to fly and even a few other things.

—

Thanks for reading! Who are your favorites of the 4? Let me know in the comments below

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[wcnka]

*  ੈ✩‧ — @lannamused

This daily routine of sneaking out while Tiddles worked the Wild and Wonderful Wishy-washy Wonka Walker was working out quite well. It was all thanks to his friends stationed around the area to keep an eye out for the Chief of Police and his subordinates. With the crew from Scrubbit's frequently warning him ahead of time of the imminent threat, it gave Willy enough opportunity to truly focus on the WONKA products he was handing out. His tactic was a simple one: give out a sample first and then allow the potential customer to decide whether they wished to buy a full box. And they weren't expensive, either. He wholeheartedly believed that chocolates should be set at an affordable price so that all could enjoy.

Today continued his streak of happy customers with a lot of them returning from previous days to purchase even more! Building and maintaining a loyal consumer base was just as important as inviting new people to try. If he could get his name out there while also saving up enough to open a shop, then surely those who bought his products out here on the street would stop by when he finally had his grand opening!

Box after box was given out until he was down to just a handful. Okay, who to give his last ones to? That is, of course, id they wanted to buy a whole box — he wouldn't force a sale on them. Feeling confident he'd sell the rest of his batch today, Willy went in search of someone who looked like they needed a nice little treat. Fortunately, it didn't take him long to come across a mailman who might just be nearing the end of his rounds considering the time of day. Perfect!

"Good afternoon, sir! Been working hard all day? Thank you for your service in the mail business! I hear it can be quite tiring what with all the dogs chasing you for your pants. So!" He knew just what to offer this hardworking postie. With sample box at the ready, he popped it open to reveal square milk chocolate pieces. Inside were fluffy marshmallows infused with chamomile to bring calmness and relief while the marshmallows worked to help the consumer feel lighter on their feet. There would be no lifting off the ground, though! That was what what the Hoverchocs were for.

"They're so light and fluffy that it'll feel like you're eating a cloud." And just maybe that last part had an inkling of truth to it...

[onefail-at-atime]

I had an absolutely beautiful dream last night.

First. If you've been watching the ads for the final season of FTWD, then you can understand the headspace that I'm in. Not only have they brought back TWO characters who were long ago thought to be dead, they're running ads with phrases like this.

Now, in the dream, Daryl was back stateside and trying to get back to the Commonwealth. He found himself somewhere along the Ohio River and, Daryl being Daryl, rushed to help a teenage girl who was overwhelmed by a herd. She thanks him and takes him back to her community. He's greeted with thanks, but the people remain cautious. Daryl's separated from the girl and taken to speak with the community leaders.

And he's stunned into silence because...

One of the leaders is Beth freaking Greene.

The two can't believe what they're seeing and Beth turns into a stammering mess while Daryl just shakes his head again and again and again because "no, no, no" she's supposed to be dead.

His interrogation is postponed, and he's given time alone with Beth. As soon as she gets her arms around him, he breaks down and shakes with sobs because he can't believe it. She can't believe it either. Beth holds onto him as they both cry, and she doesn't let go.

.

.

.

The dream was beautiful and so unbelievably real. I woke thinking that everyone had been right. Beth was alive. Because lately, it hasn’t seemed so hard to believe. They brought back Madison, who was last scene surrounded by walkers in a burning football stadium. They brought back Troy, who had his skull cracked with a hammer and was left for dead. It's like they're making something like this more and more believable just to string us along.

BTW, the whole Madison is Alive crew has to have been living on Cloud 9 all this time since she made her return. Good for you guys. 💛

[hishgraphics]

Last week, in a one-shot Star Trek Adventures tabletop RPG session, my niece Anya plays Commander Jewel Mochizuki, XO of the Walker-class USS Bangkok. It is July 2260. Captain Adilia Morales is sent by Starfleet to investigate the SOS from the Saladin-class USS Neptune in the Anansi Aleph system.

Captain Morales assigns Cmdr Mochizuki to the rescue ops. Upon dropping out of warp, Science Officer Lt Amanda Heisenberg scans nearby gas giant Anansi Aleph III detecting a ship in its upper atmosphere. Helmsman Lt. Cmdr. Simone Tsang plots a course there.

An electrical storm under the Neptune disables scanning, comms and prevents beaming. Cmdr Mochizuki orders Tsang to launch a probe. Despite the atmo disturbance, Mochizuki succeeds [using Control+Conn] in remote flying the drone. The Neptune seems fine, and there is no sign of activity.

Then, Mochizuki leads a landing party with Tsang & Heisenberg in a Type-7 shuttle. They pass the probe on its way back. The winds and ionisation disruption buffet the shuttle, but Tsang skillfully lands them in the Neptune's hangar bay, beside another Type-7 shuttle.

They disembark and are jumped by a creature out in the corridor. Mochizuki stuns the creature with her phaser. The creature is a dog-sized leathery ball of muscle with a huge maw and sharp teeth.

Heisenberg reports that there are multiple lifesigns on the Engineering Deck - but no reply on comms. Tsang informs the XO that the ship is sinking into the storm clouds below which would destroy the ship.

With 15 minutes left, they split up. Heisenberg proceeds to the Science Department to learn more about the creatures. Mochizuki orders Tsang to find and destroy the creatures while she heads for the Engineering Deck. The XO fails to break the lock on the Engineering Room, where the Neptune survivors are trapped. Another creature jumps her but is disintegrated by her phaser.

Then Heisenberg calls. She is under attack by more creature before her signal cuts off.

The Neptune rocks violently as it descends into the topmost storm clouds. Tsang reports that an organic, egg-like object smashed through the hull & hatched some time ago. The hull breach is contained by emergency forcefields for now.

Mochizuki heads toward Tsang but en route a group of four creatures rush for her. They are pursued by a large 3-m long tentacled creature! Mochizuki and the small aliens flee together. But [by spending 2 Momentum] a lightning hit activates the corridor security forcefield and traps the creature. The smaller aliens are also happy at this development.

Then Heisenberg shows up with more of the smaller creatures in her arms. She discovered that the smaller gir-ligud are not hostile. The USS Neptune picked a group of them in space as they were being hunted by the larger sarab-bok. The predator travelled in an egg-like vessel that had smashed into the starship in search of its food.

Lt Cmdr Tsang reaches the bridge but helm power is off. The XO finds a power junction and [with Reason+Engineering] successfully diverts power to the bridge, allowing the helmsman to pilot the ship up and away from the electrical storm.

The Neptune out of danger, Mochizuki beams the trapped sarab-bok out to space and rescue the near-frozen crew in the Engineering Room – some of which had been devoured by the huge alien creature.

With the survivors safe and sound, the USS Bangkok and the USS Neptune then warp away from Anansi Aleph III.

THE END

[siremasterlawrence]

On The High Seas

SLAVE LUKE 1 - 2

The High Seas cruise is an underground sex bot ring of pleasure, rentals and depravity galore.

The ship sails off in the heat of the summer burgeoning through the clouds of deception over us.

The cruise is all mine, the multiple members of the crew above and below deck dress in all sorts of outfits are my property.

They are completely at my disposal for what I will into existence tattooed, costumes are adorn on his body and they look so good.

Moving across the floor in a flow of beauty that cannot be seen anywhere else except my own choices of pleasures.

I am laying on a lawn chair half naked with my beach wear trunks on enjoying the glow of the sunlight.

A shadow overcast over me with music is

all on blast blowing through the deck and people are dancing.

People are dancing out of place like lunatics lost a hypnotic dance trance state made to them obey.

I can see Luke finally appear on the top of the ships deck staircase he operates one maneuver after another checking up on everything.

“Oh Boss! Are you awake?” I can here slave Luke call out to me from the upper deck

cabin.

“Yes Luke, I am up.”

“What can I do for you?”

“That is my job boss”

“The guest on the ship is have boarded and we set sale.”

“Excellent! Give the guest a show, get into your swimwear and pose on the board”

“Master Lawrence, do you love me?”

“I do, Wow! You are spectacular “

“A fine pieces of ass “

SLAVE ANDREW 4 - 5

One of our guests Andrew Micheal Walker is the sexiest thing I’ve seen not part of my crew that will have to be fixed.

He walks in cool with air of confidence and of cockiness to him that is unparalleled by anybody I’ve known.

He stood up from his seat in a fit of rage to consume Luke up in anger for keeping him waiting for so long.

“Wait! Go back to the jumping board once until later.”

“Will you serve me?”

“What are you going on about?”

He reminds me of it all the anger, an totally powerful rage, he stomps his feet throwing

a phone at me.

I crack up grabbing his cellphone in to my own palm, I block him from moving kissing him slowly and he resists with all he has.

He propels me back a hand in the air thrown at me, I caught it easily and giggle in total excitement.

“Fool! I made contingencies for clients as stubborn as you.”

“What? No! Let me gggggooooooo”

“Take this ill mannered, I’ll bred and fool hardy dumbfuck to the vr room and induce him.”

“Yes Boss, come on Andrew and fuck off”

“I will soon be your God, I will be all you know and want”

“You will be lost to me”

“Yyyyyyeeeeessss”

“I will be yours”

“I am the ink on your blank canvas “

The end

The end

[alex-traczyk]

IS THAT SO

Without Love

In the fifties and sixties most of the songs on the radio were either about romantic love or heartbreak love ... like falling in ... falling out ... being jilted or sometimes unrequited love.

In 1966 Bob Crewe and Bob Gaudio took a different tact when writing a love song ... showing a darker side ... how life looks like to a person who is totally without love.

'The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore' was recorded by the Walker Brothers and became a big hit.

Here are some of the lyrics:

Emptiness is a place you're in

There is nothing to lose no more to win

The sun ain't gonna shine anymore

The moon ain't gonna rise in the sky

The tears are always clouding your eyes

When you're without love

[ophelia-jones]

Chapter 5 - good game

It was blessedly cool under the sunrise as Negan and Verity began their walk into town.  The birds were singing happily, and there were a few clouds gathering to suggest a rainstorm may be in their future. Verity could only hope. She didn't like leaving things up to chance, she liked control. The world had shown her again and again that nature did not give a single damn about her need for control or stability; change and chaos were the only constants and struggling against these elements was futile and exhausting.

"How long's it been?" Negan asked, his eyes scanning the forest on either side of the two lane blacktop road they walked along.  When Verity responded with a quizzical look, he clarified. "Since you went into the town."

"Well, it was before you showed up. I'd say maybe six months." She replied thoughtfully.  

"A lot can change in six months." He mused, and Verity smiled slightly at the thought of how much had changed since Negan's arrival and how different life had become. 

"Yep." She agreed simply. 

"You have any idea where we're headed, once we get into town?" He asked, looking at her with those eyes. When he looked at a person, it was almost as intimate as a touch, there was such a depth in his gaze.  

"I've seen a few small hardwares and small engine stores while I was scavenging. Never needed to look for a pump before, so not specifically sure where we can get one but I have some ideas where to start.  Worst case scenario there was a water park in town. Might be able to take something directly out of their plumbing systems." She said, grimacing slightly at the thought. "It's a big open building with slides and ladders and stairs, lots of nooks and crannies for ramblers to surprise us. No way has a building that size been cleared." 

"Right. And juicy, bloated walkers too.  Small shops make sense, unless they've been stripped already." He agreed. "What about survivors? Any other groups around that you know of?"

"Not anymore. There was one group that tried to take Haven over, but we kept it, in the end. We had the high ground, the defenses. We lost a good share of our people that way, but they lost more." She replied, her eyes going distant with recollection.  "Could very well be people in the town now, settled in the last six months without coming around Haven. I should have been sending scouts out all along, but we had just had some pretty devastating losses and everyone was safe.  We had what we needed so we didn't keep up surveillance. I got complacent." She was obviously regretting this decision dearly; but hindsight is always 20/20. She'd kept things tight at Haven and maintained a secure perimeter with a skeleton crew, and Negan had respect for that. 

"You did what you could with what we had to work with. Situations change, and you adapt. Shit, that's the mother fucking definition of success, you ask me, boss lady." Negan reassured her. 

"Well, I wouldn't call it success. Just survival. That's better than a lot of people have managed, I guess." She smiled sadly. 

"How many did you lose?" Negan asked, swinging Lucille idly at his side as they walked briskly toward the town that was emerging on the horizon.

"14. Well, 17, sort of. Some were fighting, some sick. Amanda, Vida's mother was the last death but it was the one that hit the hardest. The one that made us all shut the doors and hide away. Until you, at least." She sighed, struggling with the weight of the memory of her friend.

"Was it because of having her? I know none of the residents have any formal medical training. I know it happens too god-damned often."

"No. Well, yes and no. It wasn't labor and delivery, it was the fact that every time she looked at Vida she remembered the men who raped her. They were the last men we had living in Haven until you arrived." She informed Negan and he frowned deeply at this. His stomach turned to stone in his gut, his chest felt as if someone had sat on it. 

"She couldn't take it anymore.  One day she dropped Vida off with Amari and Harper, then went upstairs and let herself fall off the roof." She informed him matter of factly. She didn't tell him that her brain had somehow not been destroyed and she'd had to go downstairs and dispatch the rambler herself.

"Why in the fucking hell would you have let me in? I… Jesus Mary and mother fucking Joseph, Verity. How could you take that chance again?" He closed his eyes as the full scale of the risk she had taken on him dawned on him. The gift she had given him by trusting him enough to provide him food and shelter was more than he deserved and he knew it.

"If we never took a chance, we'd all just fade away until there wasn't anyone left. There has to be hope. There's no future without kindness. At least no future I want to be a part of, no future I want for the kids at Haven. What's the point of surviving just to spend your whole life without kindness? Mercy?." She paused, looked away from him, and quietly added, "without love?"

Negan looked at her, his expressive lips slightly parted in surprise at her words. Carl had written something similar to him when he died, and he'd thought about it often over the past year.  He wasn't sure he believed it was entirely possible in the world as it was, kindness and mercy and all that bullshit. It had, since Lucille's death, felt as if Love were nothing more than weakness. But Verity's ability to love had saved him. Her kindness had come at a time when the harsh nature of the world had worn him down to nothing, and she and her community had buoyed him. They had given him hope.

"If I help one person, and they help one or two?  Maybe it's not a lot. Maybe it will never be enough to shift the balance completely, but if it keeps everything from tipping completely over the edge into darkness? Then I guess it's worth some risks." 

Negan fell silent and they walked alongside one another, contemplating whether this perspective was strength or weakness. She leaned toward weakness, and yet; it felt like the right thing. It kept her from sinking into despair. 

Negan would have dismissed her perspective as hippie-dippie bullshit not long ago. He wasn't so sure now. Yes, they had suffered at the hands of people whom they had trusted, but when she took a chance on him she had gained a loyal companion. He would, he realized, kill any enemy to protect the people in Haven. He would die to protect Verity. 

*******************************  

They slowed their steps as they entered the town, keeping as quiet and watchful as possible. As they came around the corner of a decimated grocery store. All the glass in the store front was shattered, there were chips and bullet holes marring the cinder block frame of the building and old blood stains on the sidewalk. A quick glance inside told them there was likely nothing left inside that was worth the risk of entering. 

The all too familiar smell of death hit their noses as they ventured further into town, and they heard the sound of ramblers milling around nearby. They weren't agitated or moving quickly, that meant they had not yet become aware of the duo's presence. Verity nodded toward the corner of the bait and tackle shop they were passing, suggesting the dead were right around the corner. Negan nodded his agreement with her suspicions and grasped Lucille tightly in both hands, the leather of his batting gloves squeaking against the grain of her wooden handle. It was too hot to wear his leather jacket, but the gloves allowed him to keep a solid grip on his precious bat despite sweaty hands. 

Verity reached around behind herself and withdrew the 7" inch ww2 combat dagger she had been willed by her grandfather when he died. It was the only object she still possessed from before the outbreak - and it had saved her life more than once. She held the handle in her fist, the blade emerging out the bottom of her hand, away from the thumb as he had taught her. This allowed for a greater range of motion and more force behind a strike.

She stepped slowly up to the corner and glanced around the edge. She could see half a dozen ramblers, but there was an alley behind the building she could not see and that concerned her. How many more would emerge once they became aware of their presence? She held up one hand, all five fingers, then closed it and again lifted one finger to signal to Negan what she could see. She drew her pistol in her right hand as a secondary defense. She didn't want to resort to gunfire - bullets were dear and the noise would draw attention; but she needed to be prepared. 

A rambler of unusual height began shuffling toward the corner. It was bloated and leaking decomposition fluids, making a squelching noise with each step. She listened as it approached and stepped out around the corner as it got close enough to attack, tossing her blade slightly and catching it the other way round in her hand for an upward thrust through the soft underside of its jaw at an angle to pierce the fragile basilar skull and sever the creatures brainstem. It dropped like wet laundry and she sank to her knees with it to withdraw her dagger. 

As soon as the body hit the ground, the others turned and began to approach, their guttural moans tripling in volume and echoing off the nearby buildings. Negan sprang into action, hitting one then another with his powerful swing, dropping them quickly and efficiently as gore flew like the rain they so desperately needed. 

Verity only dispatched one more herself, he was so eager for the fight. He grinned at her, his shirt and face spattered but his eyes alive with the thrill of the fight. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and he realized just how much he had actually missed this. Verity chuckled at the sight of him grinning as if it were just a game and he was winning.

 "Pace yourself, hot shot. We're just getting started." She told him, fighting the bizarre urge to slap him on the ass and say 'good game' like she had seen baseball players do all her life at the Detroit Tigers games her father and grandfather had taken her to. Something in his glee made her giddy and brought out the competitive spirit she hadn't had any use for in ages. 

Three more walkers emerged from the alley.

"I've got Marilyn Manson over there." She told Negan as she returned her dagger to its sideways position. She took three running steps forward, hopped up onto a set of concrete steps so she could reach the walker with the long black leather jacket and put the force of her weight into the blow by springing forward as she struck it in the temple. 

"We're calling it now? Show off." Negan laughed at this new side of the usually sober woman.  He choked up on the bat and hit the next walker so hard, its head came almost completely off, dangling awkwardly to one side at a 45° angle before it stumbled and fell forward. It's mouth was still working vacantly and Negan smashed its skull in with the heel of his boot. 

Verity withdrew her dagger and wiped the blade with a red bandana she had kept tucked in her back pocket.

"Now who's showing off?" She quipped, one corner of her mouth drawn up in a playful smirk.

Negan chewed absently on one side of his bottom lip as he watched her with new appreciation in his eyes. He swung Lucille sideways, with just one hand and pushed the last walker down before turning his full attention to it and swinging Lucille over his head as if he were chopping firewood and bringing it down to turn the creature's head into mush.

"I believe that's 5 to 3, in my favor." He told her with his eyebrows raised in challenge. She laughed, actually threw back her head and laughed at this - Negan realized with a strange tug at his heart that this was the first genuine laugh he'd heard from her. He'd earned more than a few chuckles and even a giggle or two in their time working at Haven, but this? This sound was music to his ears. The way her eyes danced reminded him of a flame on a candle. 

****************************  

They reached a small hardware store four blocks away without any more encounters, pausing in the shade the building cast on the sidewalk to drink from their steel water bottles. Verity withdrew another bandana, this one blue, and wiped the sweat and gore from her skin. She was tempted to use some of the precious water on the flushed skin of her face and neck but decided against it. As good as it would feel, it would be wasteful. 

She handed Negan the bandana and he accepted it, wiping his face and patting his throat and the back of his neck dry before slipping it into his back pocket. 

"Good to go?" He asked, and she nodded as he opened the still intact door. A bell rang to announce their arrival, and they stood still, holding their breath until they were sure they hadn't drawn any attention. 

They moved aisle by dimly lit aisle, many of which had already been thoroughly looted. They stepped around unwanted merchandise which had been abandoned on the floor.

"Any luck?" Verity asked Negan who was at the opposite end of the last aisle. 

"Jack fucking diddly shit we can use to repair our pump." He replied in frustration.  Verity sighed, kicking a box of U bends on the floor in frustration. 

"We're just getting started, boss." He told her, stepping up close to and looking down at her. She hated it when he did that; because she liked it too much when he did it. In the cool of the darkened store with its painted concrete floors and cinder block walls, she could feel the heat radiating from his skin against her own. 

"Yeah, but it's getting hotter out there by the minute and we're already low on water." She told him, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from his so she didn't lose her train of thought. 

He had an appeal about him, she wouldn't try to deny that, but she had never been the sort of woman to get in line for affection from a man. If he wanted to spread it around that was his choice and if the others didn't mind, well, good for them. Verity wasn't good at giving or accepting less than 100%. 

"Well, it just so happens, I did find something that might interest you under the counter over here." He said, gently grasping her elbow with one gloved hand and leading her to a mini fridge under the cash register. It was stocked nearly full with cans of soda and carbonated water. 

"Manna from heaven." Negan quipped, handing her a can. They were warm, obviously, but the fridge, even without power, had maintained the temperature of the cans far better than if they had been setting out in the open. When Negan closed the door, she saw that it was labeled 'live bait'. 

"Guess it kept others out long enough for us to win the prize." Negan smiled, popping the tab of a can of cola and guzzling it down greedily. Verity followed suit, the sugar working its magic almost immediately to re-invigorate her. She went to work stuffing their bags with the contents of the fridge, dividing the spoils evenly so neither carried a heavier bag than the other. 

"Good find." She told him. "Let's head out, I was thinking if we could find a farm supply store, there might be pump house supplies to fit a wind generated pump." 

"Lead the way." He told her, gesturing for her to step out the door first. They had managed to make it another few blocks, keeping close to the buildings to stay in the shade, when they heard the rumble of several small engines. 

"Bikes?" Verity wondered, thinking perhaps they it was perhaps 125 cc dirt bikes or a 300 litre beginners motorcycle. As they drew closer though, the sound wasn't as high pitched as a bike like that would be. They ducked into the narrow stairway that led to an upstairs, downtown apartment above what had been a beauty salon, each of them pressed against a wall and peeking out to see five side by side utv's, the kind hunters or ranchers would use in rural areas. Each of them carried at least two, sometimes three people. All men, all armed.

"What do we have here?" Negan whispered to himself, his eyes narrowing. "Looks like someone has made themselves at home here while you were on leave of absence."

"Yeah, a lot of someones." She agreed, not liking the looks of them at all. "Let's get upstairs, see if we can get a wider view of the streets from the windows up there where we won't be as likely to be seen." She suggested, and Negan nodded his acquiescence. She led way up the dark stairwell, and found a hallway with a door on either side, two small apartments most likely. Verity tried the handle of the one on her left but unsurprisingly it was locked. Negan didn't hesitate to kick it in with one booted foot. 

"Subtle." She rolled her eyes at him, and before the word was out of her mouth a walker stumbled out the door growling and grasping at her. Verity struggled to draw her knife and Negan instinctively grabbed the walker which had once been a small framed woman and tossed it down the stairs. Its weight and velocity opened the door and as it scrambled slowly to its feet, the pneumatic arm drew the door shut and the walker was locked outside. 

"Shit." Verity said breathlessly.

"Shit." Negan repeated with a nod. 

He pushed past her to check that the tiny apartment was clear of any more threats, and called out to her that it was safe. She closed the door behind herself and barricaded it with an old recliner. It would slow anyone or anything down, at least. They could still hear the utv engines, in fact it sounded like they could be circling the block. They might be here for a while. 

[dxppercxdxver]

lyric ask,,,every hhsa character /hj

okay bitch (affectionate) let's fucking go

juno: half awake, i wander through this house / lost in a labyrinth and left with no way out / i built this hall of mirrors all myself / the faces staring back at me look like somebody else - wander. wonder. by the arcadian wild OR so throw on the black dress, mix in with the lot / you might wake up and notice you're someone you're not / if you look in the mirror and don't like what you see / you can find out first hand what it's like to be me - the end! by my chemical romance

nat: oh but i'm quite small and i never have it all together / and i'm just a girl who doesn't have any diamonds or pearls / but don't give me your pity 'cause there's more to life than pretty things / so i'll just give you me - five foot three by flannel graph

eloise: well, i'm just a stranger, i'm only a walker / i guess i am human, but sometimes i feel / like i'm only a ghost, like i'm only a wall / and if you come around, honey / i'll probably just follow you home / 'cause it's all that i know how to do - steamboat by adrianne lenker

andrés: and you've come to know me stubborn as a butcher / and you've come to know me thankless as a guest / will you recognize my face / when god's awful grace / strips me of my jacket and my vest? - hymn #101 by joe pug

lawrence: there's rules to life i know / and if you follow them you'll go / up to the mountains and the clouds / and where the golden rivers flow / but I've always been so good at breaking all the rules / i wasn't made to be their robot / and i ain't nobody's fool / i am the goat that got away / but i know there will come a day / when i'll be punished for my mind / 'cause i led myself astray - what's a devil to do? by harley poe

margaret: i picked up the sword that you gave me today / took your blessing and then i made my way / hoped the first challenge would be easy / oh, great deku tree, would you please me? / all the heartless want my blood / all of the gods wanna spit me out as cud / if I don't make it out alive / at least i'll see my undead wife - the dying song by montaigne

draven: so kiss me now / this whiskey on my breath / feel the lives that i have taken / what little soul that i have left / and oh, my god / i'll take you to the grave / the only love i've ever known / the only soul i ever saved - chasing twisters by delta rae

pidge: and i have so many / questions / about life, the universe / and everything / i look up at the / stars at night / and i sometimes wonder / if the atheists were right / 'cause this world is getting worse / don't know if i wanna be here after the night - 42 by sage crosby

northernfield: hey, danny-boy, i was thinking of our crew / but thinking just makes me sad, and that’s why i write to you / how do you do? / there’s been years between us / didn’t we have big ideas when our school was done? / we’d leave our smaller minds and move out to oregon / but i was the only one / who went the road less taken - those days are gone, and my heart is breaking by barton carroll

ebony: out of the blue, everything's new / all the talk we heard was true / the legends we all heard once / the whispers from the storefronts / hope for the best / prepare for the worst / we wait like stock-piled landmines, ready to burst / wait all your life to see what you see / open up your eyes and be free - sicilian crest by the mountain goats

juniper: i dragged her down / i put her out / and back there i left her where no one could see / and lifeless, cold / into this well / i stared as this moment was held for me - drowning lessons by my chemical romance

claire: but counting down the days to go / it just ain't living / and i just hope you know / that if you say / good-bye today / i'd ask you to be true / 'cause the hardest part of this / is leaving you - cancer by my chemical romance

this genuinely emotionally wrecked me thank you for this ask do come again

[incarnateirony]

Speaking of spins,

Quite humorous to watch 2po try to spin it as "the TW crew being behind."

Perhaps in the perception of idiots that didn't map out the film schedule and know they had a minimum extra week. Maybe in the perception of idiots that didn't adjust to the show using an average of 10 filming days each, give or take with the shuffles.

Me previously "accepting" the "update" that they were done was going, huh, guess they got ahead of schedule, neat.

Trying to spin it as behind, after he argued around Walker being behind due to MULTIPLE production shutdowns that literally put it *actually like a month and a half behind schedule*, and forcing airing gaps early, nono, that's not being behind. But the production that would have needed to come back to film its flex script parts anyway. That one, that one's behind.

This fool truly is showing all his true colors, and a bunch of hellers been realizing they been getting PLAYED by a salty incest reader.

yes guys, hate to break it to you, spnscripthunt is just a bunch of salty con acolytes and frothing multishippers and other people in that general bracket throwing a tantrum again, like they have many times against me, whether when they were spnscripthunt, whether it was when they were banned from my server, whether it was when they were Andromeda. Whoever they are, they've been reduced to shrill teakettle noises, denial, tantrums demanding access, doxxing and threats of physical harm.

Thats it, and they're realizing they lost and clouding the waters with as much horse shit as they can on the way out, hoping if the pool is muddy enough there may be some canon or actor-attack loophole and no, sorry, there's not. This is the end. There will be no fandom or convention kings or queens by the time this is over. And good riddance. May the 2pos, gayles, suzannes, et al finally catch the fucking clue once it drives through their heart and may they forever fuck off to the greener RICC-like yeehaw pastures they truly desire.

- Harab Serapel

[abigailspinach]

“The cloud-walker writhed in the air, as if the contact had been as painful for it as it was for the boats, the barge, and crew. It pushed upward, circling the upper island, knocking the roof off a tower with one casual blow of a foreleg.

“This can’t be a coincidence,” Chime said, turning urgently to Jade. “It’s here for us.”

He had to be right. Unless this giant plant-eater had suddenly developed a taste for groundlings, this attack was aimed at the Raksura. And the Islanders, their ships, the helpless groundlings on the trade barges, were going to take the brunt of it. Moon looked at Jade and demanded, “Are you just going to let this happen?”

She turned to him, her spines flaring out in anger. She said, “Then stop it.”

It was equal parts challenge and order.

Moon shifted and leapt into the air, hard beats of his wings taking him up. He needed to get above the thing as it swung around to take another dive.

[monarch-butterfly-03]

Loathing Desires (5)

It was a stunning day in New York City that fine Friday afternoon that perfected Venus Walker's infamous yacht party. The sun was blaring over the city, a faint breeze was felt to decrease the scorch, and not a single cloud in the sky was shown. To Venus Walker's luck, everything has been running smoothly. Almost too smoothly.

Influencers, models, and CEO's filled the luxurious yacht that was Venus' sixteenth birthday gift from her parents. Waiters and waitresses walked the three-level boat handing out the finest selection of wine and champagne that costed more than rent for majority of New York citizens. She was pulling all of the best cards she had today. She was Venus Walker and this was a crucial time she could not afford for her appearance to slip.

Venus stood on the top deck over looking the main deck covered with billionaires all laughing and talking over the faint live music being performed at the back of the yacht. A crystal glass was in her freshly manicured hands consisting of her favourite red wine that was lightly stained by her pink lipstick near the rim. Small black sunglasses rested on her nose and covered her eyes as she searched for a specific billionaire. Her luxurious blonde hair was tied up in a bun with two strands framing her face, and the dark green blouse was matched with a beige cargo pants that fitted her outfit together by beige stilettos. 

Venus Walker stood over the others like a queen over her citizens. Or more like a lion over it's prey.

"Everything is running smoothly, Ms. Walker." Amelia's voice appeared behind her. "All guests have arrived and the captain is beginning departure."

The corner of Venus's lip raised and began drumming her finger on the gold rim of her crystal wine glass. "And Mr. Downey?"

"Him and Mrs. Downey arrived minutes ago. The captain welcomed them personally and took them to get some wine and the engine room. They are awaiting for you there." Amelia explained.

"Excellent." Venus breathed out turning around. "Thank you, Amelia."

Amelia nodded wearing similar attire to her boss. The gorgeous woman's hair was curled past her shoulders and an earpiece was hidden behind the locks. Her navy blouse was tucked into a grey pencil skirt, with a clipboard tucked between her arm of tasks and the guest list. "You ready?" She asked with a soft smile.

"Always am." Venus nodded leaving her glass on a table and followed her assistant down the flight of stairs to the main level. 

The boat had began to depart from the docks and the crew was closing up the gate. A few paparazzi was seen near shore trying to snap photos of who was aboard for the latest gossip magazines but from this distance, they were undoubtedly blurry.

Amelia muttered something into her earpiece walking alongside Venus to the captain's engine room to welcome Mr. Downey. The warm air hit Venus' face walking along the edge of the boat that overlooked the beautiful New York city and the Statue of Liberty. A few guests smiled and acknowledged Venus as she passed and she curtly responded with a faint smile and handshake before excusing herself.

As Mr. and Mrs. Williams went on their way, Amelia stepped back in line with her boss. "I forgot to mention your brother called earlier."

Venus hummed. "What about?"

"He wants to know if you can make it to his birthday. It's next month but he really wants you there." Amelia spoke softly and Venus let out a guilty breath.

For the past two years, Venus has missed her baby brothers birthday because of work. She always had the intent to go but there was always a dilemma or delay that caused her to miss it. Although she apologized profusely by giving the most extravagant gifts known to man, nothing can ever make up for the absence of her at her brothers birthday.

"Tell him I promise to be there this year." Venus inquired. "This year, there is no excuses." Amelia nodded, jotting a note down on her clipboard as a reminder for later.

Two figures stepped out of the bar near the back of the boat and Venus froze in her tracks beside Amelia. The two men were laughing mockingly and drinking her wine clearly enjoying their time on her boat. 

The two men's laughter faltered when noticing the two women staring daggers at them. Tom Holland's smile turned cocky the moment his eyes fell onto Venus'. Black sunglasses hid his eyes but Venus knew the corners were creased from how wide he was grinning. A loose white and navy collared shirt was tucked into black dress pants. The first few buttons were undone for comfort and his hair was more messy than usual from the spring air. 

The man beside him is someone Venus never met but knew from magazines and articles. He was Tom Holland's best friend, Harrison Osterfield. His blonde hair was a dead giveaway if it wasn't for his sharp jawline. He wore a white basic t-shirt with navy dress pants. Alike Tom, he was wearing sunglasses hiding his eyes but Venus felt them studying her.

"I was wondering when you were going to welcome us aboard, darling." Tom teased bitterly approaching her and Harrison followed smugly.

Venus jaw locked and her body went hot with anger. "Who let you aboard? You weren't on the guest list." She snapped walking over to him visibly agitated by his appearance. Amelia rushed along to defend her boss.

"No but my best mate, Harrison, was." Tom slapped a hand on Harrison's shoulder who grinned widely in return attempting to hide it with his champagne glass as he took another sip. "Seems like someone slipped up and invited his entire modelling agency. Harrison was blessed to bring a plus one and thought of his childhood friend." His voice sang.

Venus exhaled deeply and Amelia shuffled on her feet guiltily. A mistake was made but Venus would deal with Amelia later, right now she has to figure out how to get Tom away from her and Mr. Downey or even better, off this yacht. 

"Look, Holland-"

"Come on, darling. We have been friends for so long, you can call me Tom." Tom cocked his head with a teasing smile.

"Holland," Venus corrected crossing her arms. She licked her lips and took a deep breath, "Stay out of my way. Don't act dumb, we both know why you are here. But I swear on my life, if you try to-"

"Try to what, Walker?" Holland's voice snapped bitterly. He took a step closer and even in heels, Tom hovered over her. His smile was replaced by a scold and his dimples were gone as his jaw clenched in anger. "Sign Mr. Downey before you? Oh, Walker. You don't scare me and you never will. I'm not like the other hundred of business men you've met before. I am not afraid of a little competition."

"Neither am I." Venus challenged back. "I am not like those other business women you've met. I won't back down from a little banter and a smirk. So don't think that you're going to win this, Holland. Because I can take whatever you give me." Tom's jaw clenched harder and Venus raised her chin with a smirk on her lips.

"Walker, you better be ready to eat your words-"

"Venus!" The voice shouted behind Venus and they both flinched in recognition. Venus' eyes shut tightly and questioned to herself of how all these men snuck on the boat without her knowledge until now. 

Yet another person she would talk to Amelia and security about. Someone was definitely getting fired tonight.

Tom looked past her and he shuffled between his feet stepping back from Venus and she turned around ignoring the burning gaze on the back of her head to face Elijah Hill. Plastering on a smile, she took a few steps towards him. "Elijah, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Florida for a business trip?" Venus asked.

Alike the others, Elijah was wearing more causal clothes of a basic black collared shirt and some grey dress pants. His hand pulled her in from her lower back and his other hand held her cheek that was a sign of dominance and possessiveness, welcoming her into a heated kiss that took her, and the others, off guard. But Venus saw the action as inappropriate and unnecessary therefore she placed her hand on his chest and pulled back. The two never display public affection unless there was paparazzi around but Venus knew the reasoning behind Elijah's actions. 

Her guess has to relate to the brunette man behind her whose name is lurking around the media with hers.

"Can I not surprise my favourite girl?" Elijah smirked planting a kiss on her forehead and is eyes glanced over her head to the three standing behind her. "Oh, Holland. Didn't see you there. Nor did I expect to see you here, at all." He egotistically smirked and Venus had to use a lot of self control to not roll her eyes.

"Hill, it's been a while. I see your still sleeping your way to the top." Tom bluntly admitted with a tight smile taking a sip from his champagne glass. Harrison hid a laugh through a cough and Amelia stepped back from the battle field that began to brew.

On either side of Amelia was a strong stand off. Tom Holland with a confident front had the defence of his best mate, Harrison standing slightly behind him. On the other side was Venus with her arms crossed defensively glaring at Tom and Elijah's hand resting on her waist. Elijah's grip tightened and Venus bit her cheek at Tom's statement. 

"Holland-" Venus tried but Elijah beat her too it.

"Jealous, Holland? I bet your too busy sucking up to your daddy and mommy to win over the business, then be able to settle down." Elijah snapped back, his voice laced with venom.

Tom twitched with anger. Venus watched his hand grip the spine of the glass tighter and his jaw tighten so hard she thought a vein would pop. She knew little about Tom but she knew he prioritized his family greatly. Disrespect them and you'd surely regret it.

"Elijah-" Venus tried yet failed again, her voice almost a whisper.

"Jealous?" Tom laughed taking a step closer that Venus felt the warmth of his anger in his voice. "I would never be jealous to be sleeping with a woman who spreads her legs for anyone and has no emotions. We all know you're just dating her for the public appearance and the sex, but it wouldn't surprise me if she was seeing other men on the side. I mean, how pathetic is it that you, Elijah Hill, are running after her like a lost puppy just so you can get a little publicity from it. Admit it! You both are so pathetic." He spat in their faces with a mocking smirk on his face, swirling the champagne in his glass. "The little business woman who sleeps with anyone from her major daddy issues and the coward business man who sucks up to a whore to gain some attachment and publicity." Tom's laugh stained in her memory and he took a long sip of her expensive liquor.

Venus thinks she heard Amelia gasp and Elijah say something but she wasn't sure. Each word, insult, and joke was like a bullet directly to Venus feelings. Venus has been working in this business a long time. She has been named every insult possible and she managed to always brush it off.

The media calls her ruthless, cold, and heartless, while others call her attention-seeking, a slut, and greedy. Everyone always wants more power and wealth but no one realizes the labels that come with it. There are dozens of articles, magazines, and gossip channels would spread rumours of Venus. But sadly, she was used to it. Being a woman in the business industry that was controlled by men, she had to be. 

Regardless of how hard Venus works to escape these labels and titles, they always seem to appear. Tom Holland was just a small example of this. But no matter how often she hears it, Venus can not deny how much the words impact her.

"How fucking dare you say that shit!" Elijah's voice began to raise and released his grip from Venus panting heavily. He attempted to step around her but her small hand shot out, stopping him by his chest.

All eyes fell to Venus as she took off her sunglasses and placed them on top of her head. She took a heavy breath as her delicate eyes glanced to Elijah before landing on Tom. A heavy silence fell over the scene as Venus stared up at Tom. Amelia began texting Venus assumed was security and Elijah muttered something under his breath but Venus' attention was fixed on the span of satan in front of her.

Anger radiating off both of them with mocking smiles painted on both of their lips. The two were like fire and ice bound to destroy another and one day, one of them would be the victor. Tom swallowed thickly and Venus felt his gaze burn into hers shielded behind his sunglasses. 

Venus took a small step towards him and out of Elijah's grip, studying the man in front of her. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest and the blood rushed to her head.

The smack of Venus' hand against Tom's cheek echoed against the yacht's exterior and his jaw tightened from the impact. The air felt heavy and thick as Venus glared up at him with a gentle, innocent smile. "Watch your mouth, Holland." Venus sweet voice whispered peering up at him through her thick lashes. "I have tried to be civil and play nice but you are taking it to your advantage. Maybe if you stop thinking with your tiny-dick ego for once in your life you would realize whose truly the pathetic one here." 

Tom's nose flared as he refused to make eye contact. "You think you are so special." His voice rumbled lowly.

"And you think you are?" Venus raised an eyebrow. "I have no greater privilege than anyone else here. But shall I remind you that I am not the one who snuck on a yacht and walking around calling you a slut and whore for being in a relationship with someone." Venus snapped back and crossed her arms, a cold glare replacing her teasing smile. "I am a goddamn woman, Holland. Treat me like one."

"You are an absolute spoiled brat who doesn't have to work for anything in life. Everything given to you was handed to you on a silver platter." Tom corrected.

"What about you, Holland?" Venus remarked. "Look in the mirror and take a good look at yourself. Everything you have was given to you by your parents. The difference between the two of us is that I have actually had to prove myself to my family and society. And it looks like if egotistical cocky businessman still think I am a whore and slut, I got a lot more work to do." 

The footsteps of security behind her alerted her of their new company and she took a step back from the scene. "Ms. Walker, can we assist you?" Her head security questioned.

"Can you please escort Mr. Holland and Mr. Osterfield to the back bar? Keep them there until we dock and I want them escorted off the yacht and directly to their vehicle." Venus asked playfully smiling up at Tom. 

"Worried about my safety, darling?" Tom raised an eyebrow and Venus rolled her eyes.

Elijah's touch grabbed her hands and pulled her back from Tom to make room for security to pass her. Her eyes watched security gesture the two men towards the back of the boat and away from her gaze. 

Tom's gaze remained on her until the security forcefully pushed his shoulders back to begin walking. "Watch it, mate. I can walk on my own." Tom snapped at one of the security team that was gripping his arm to move him along. Tom's gaze flickered back to Venus' and a smirk teased his lips, "Might want to get to your meeting, darling. I'm sure Mr. Downey would love to hear more of your proposition. But do me a favour and ask if he is free again this weekend for golf? But this time, the drinks are on me." Tom called out laughing as he followed along his friend.

Venus exhaled deeply and felt her blood boiling in anger. Soon the devil's son and his friend were out of sight but the effect of Tom's presence and words still lingered.

"Ms. Walker, I am so-" 

"Save it, Amelia." Venus snapped and spun to face her assistant. "Do me a favour, go make sure no one else uninvited is not here." She hummed sternly. Amelia gulped and nodded, dropping her gaze as she walked off away from the couple. 

When her footsteps faded into the distance, Venus faced Elijah next who was smirking in the empty space of where Tom once stood. "I can't believe the audacity of that guy. Who does he think he is?" He asked aloud with a small laugh.

"Who do you think you are?" Venus chided. Elijah's eyes narrowed and fell onto her angry ones, realizing her anger was now directed at him. "For fucks sake, Elijah. We are not in a relationship. This is a publicity stunt and I don't know how many times I have to remind you. You were not invited because I can't handle you hoovering over my shoulder."

Elijah scoffed and his hands fell to his side. "I was helping you! God, Holland was harassing you and I was trying to defend you."

"I had it handled." Venus scolded.

"Yeah, clearly." Elijah rolled his eyes.

Venus let out a heavy breath. "I have a meeting to attend to and honestly, I do not want you in my sight."

Elijah expression fell and stepped closer placing his hands back on her waist. "Look, I'm sorry." He breathed out guiltily. "He gets under my nerves as much as yours and I lost control. I know we aren't officially together but in this line of work, it is hard to build a connection with someone. Whether thats as fuck buddies or friends, I do care for you Venus." His voice became gentle as his expression softened. "I want to be there to help you. So, let me help you." His sultry voice whispered in her ear as his hands travelled around her lower back.

Venus let out a heavy sigh and shut her eyes. 

Maybe it was the anger coursing through her veins, her heart racing from the fury, or the tension stiffening her muscles, Elijah's offer sounded perfect. He was the perfect distraction. Tom Holland always left this anger in her heart and Elijah always had the best solutions to resolving this tension. 

"Meet me in the masters bed room in two hours after we dock." Venus breathed out looking up at him through her lashes. Elijah pulled his face back with a seductive smirk and she cleared her throat to compose herself. "But remember, we aren't official." Venus narrowed her eyes.

Elijah raised his hands guiltily and nodded. "Just friends." He assured licking his lips.

Venus hummed and took a step back out to fix her shirt. Mr. Downey has been awaiting for her and she can't keep him waiting any longer. Placing her sunglasses back on her nose, she tilted her chin to look up at Elijah in front of her with a short frown.

"Also, change your shirt. The colour is clashing with my outfit." Venus hummed and spun on her heel strutting off towards the engine room. 

Elijah let out a low laugh watching the woman walk away. Venus Walker was definitely a strong, independent, and confident woman. It was definitely her world and Elijah was just living in it. But he also knew better than to defy her and scurried off to the masters bedroom where spare clothes would be stored.

The engine room was on the other side of the yacht and to Venus' luck, away from the stern of the boat where he was. When she entered the room with a smile on her lips, Mr. Downey had the captain's hat on and was steering the boat beside the captain as his wife was taking a photo with a glass of wine in her hands. The sight made Venus' smile more realistic.

"Mr. Downey, glad you are enjoying yourself." Venus teased approaching the scene.

Mr. Downey glanced over and his smile widened. "Ah, Ms. Walker! I was wondering when you would be coming." He stated handing the hat back to the captain.

"My apologies, I had something to deal with." Venus stood in front of the couple. "I see you found my finest wine collection. Have you tried the Château Lafite yet?" 

"No, but if it is anything like your last suggestion I know it has to be good." Mrs. Downey smiled warmly, falling into her husbands embrace as he placed a hand on her back. "Apologies for the rudeness, but you're Ms. Walker? When my husband told me about the meetings and deal, I certainly thought you would be older." Mrs. Downey chuckled to herself. "It is admirable dear of all the work you do. We need more woman in business and you represent yourself beautifully."

It is ironic on how just mer minutes ago she was being called a whore and now she was being called admirable. But Venus felt touched by Mrs. Downey's compliments. Her own mother has never said anything like that before, being too busy with her own business to look at her daughters.

"Thank you, Mrs. Downey." Venus breathed out speechless. "That's such an honour to come from you."

Mrs. Downey waved her compliment off. "Please, I carry the reputation of my husband on my shoulders. You managed to create your own. That deserves more credit." She hummed.

Mr. Downey placed a kiss on the side of her head and Venus watched the interaction sadly. As Elijah explained, it is hard to meet people in this industry. Relationships rarely work out for businessmen and Venus knew this entering the field. But Mr. & Mrs. Downey is an example that relationships can work. 

Venus wishes she could have used her parents as an example but the two travel so much they barely see another. Mr and Mrs. Walker are complete opposites from Mr. and Mrs. Downey. They find time to spend with another, even if it is for work. Suddenly, Venus felt guilty for interfering their time by arranging a business meeting. 

"Thank you captain for showing they Downey's around." Venus graced and the captain gave a faint nod. "Have you two been given a tour of the behind the scenes? The chef is a student from France who shows extreme potential and works summers for my family." Venus questioned with an excited smile.

Mr. Downey shook his head. "We can later after we discuss business." He smiled and Mrs. Downey nodded taking a sip of her wine.

"Respectfully, Mr. Downey, I think we can save that discussion for another time." Venus' gaze flickered over to Mrs. Downey with a gentle smile. "It has been a long day and talking about business is the last thing on my mind. If it is alright with you, I would like to show you the variety of treats our chef can create. I know it is not business but I think it is a lot more enjoyable." Venus let out a small laugh.

Mrs. Downey smile widened and looked up hopeful at her husband. Mr. Downey's smile softened from Venus statement. It was rare for Venus to admit she was exhausted and loose her tough demeanor. Instead of a businesswoman, Mr. Downey saw a young woman. Not the Venus Walker plastered across the media. But a woman who is gentle, compassionate, and tired.

Mr. Downey's smile mimicked his wife and nodded softly. "We would love that, Ms. Walker." He graced.

Venus smile widened and stepped aside, gesturing to the door with a smile on her lips. "Shall we?"

[azvolrien]

Fire and Water

I've wanted to go into a bit more detail about the mysterious Sea People for a little while now, and since I've established in supplementary materials that Roan's mother was one of them, that gave me a convenient jumping-off point for some conversation. Nothing graphic, but a few Implications about what life out in their islands is like.

~~~

It was a quiet night. The air was still, with only a light breeze stirring the sea; the water lapped gently at the sand, washing in and out without ever breaking into a proper wave. A far cry from a few nights before, when the sea had suddenly risen in a tide higher and faster than anyone could remember, engulfing small fishing villages all along the coast. There had been a prosperous harbour just a couple of miles to the south, but it was deserted now, houses inundated and boats crushed against the docks by the force of the water. Some of the people had survived, scrambling to higher ground and the roofs of those buildings sturdy enough to withstand the flood, but others would never be seen again. Already people were calling it the Great Wave.

Lorna sighed and added another twisted branch to the driftwood beacon before she sat back against the remnants of a swept-away dune and gazed up at the sky. There were no clouds that she could see, but the stars had a veiled, wavering look to them that night, in keeping with the dim, reddish tint that the sun had taken on all day. An owl flew soundlessly overhead, a pale shape in the gloom heading for the trees behind the dunes. Those had survived, at least; the dunes had taken the worst of the wave, sparing the woodland most of its fury.

Another while went by in silence before, at last, she heard the sounds she had been waiting for. The splash of oars, then the crunch of sand as the hull of a ship ran up on the beach. With a low groan of effort, leaning heavily on the staff Bruide had carved for her, Lorna got to her feet and squinted into the dark beyond the fire. If the wrong crew had spotted her beacon… But no, she was in luck. The long, sleek raiding ship drawn up on the sand looked much like any other from the Fire Islands, but its mast carried the black-and-white pennant of the Orca Clan. Even better, the prow was carved with stylised designs of the same animal, mixed in with rolling waves and running wolves. A second ship floated a little further from the beach, too far into the dark to make out many details but definitely bearing another Orca pennant.

One tall, powerfully-built woman vaulted over the ship’s rail and waded through the shallows to the beach. She carried no weapons except a short hatchet slung through her belt, but her pale face was marked with flowing tattoos in deep green ink, some fresh enough that the skin around them was still pink and raised, and a short mantle of thick, yellowing white fur was tied around her shoulders. Both marked her out as a raider captain, and the old bloodstains on the fur said that she was the latest in a long line of them. She drew closer to the fire, one suspicious hand on the axe at her hip, until finally she saw Lorna’s face.

“It is you!” she said, her grim look disappearing. “I didn’t think any of our crews had been stranded in these parts. How long has it been, little sister? Seven years? Almost eight? By the Deep, we’d given you up – thought for sure that the land-walkers would’ve got rid of you.” She stepped forwards, resting her hands on Lorna’s shoulders. “I don’t know what trouble you thought you were in back then, but that doesn’t matter any more – you’ve come to your senses now. You can come home and take your rightful place.” She paused. “Well, there’s no free benches on Sea Wolf,” she admitted, “but Whale Sister out there has a gap in her company that you’d be welcome to fill.” She sighed and ruffled Lorna’s hair. “It’s good to see you again, Sela.”

Lorna took a step back. “I don’t use that name any more, Vala. I’m not sailing away, not with you or with Whale Sister. I’m never, ever going back to the Fire Islands.”

“But- you lit a beacon?”

“I wanted to talk to you. That’s all. Just talk. I…” Lorna broke off. “With the wave earlier, and this haze in the sky… Something’s happened out in the Islands, hasn’t it? I suppose that… Well, you’re still my sister, whatever else happens. I wanted to know you were all right.”

Vala was silent for a few seconds, then took a deep breath. “So what name do you go by among the land-walkers?”

“‘Lorna’. My name is Lorna now.”

“‘Lorna’…” said Vala slowly, frowning. “Where did you get that from?”

“Never mind that.”

“Hm.” Vala squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “Grandfather is dead,” she said, opening them again. “Mother leads the clan now, sits in the keep in Hestvik. She passed Sea Wolf’s company on to me.” She waved behind herself, where a few other warriors from the ship had disembarked and were gathered on the sand.

“Grandfather is- how? Was he ill?”

Vala shook her head. “Grandfather, King Einarr, and most of the old clan-heads in the Islands with them. Se- Lorna. The King’s Island… It’s gone.”

“Gone?” echoed Lorna.

“The seer-priests knew something was going to happen,” said Vala. “The ground had been shaking, the mountain smoking. The King summoned the clan-heads for an assembly to prepare for an ashfall. You know the sort of thing – planning out a few mainland raids, hashing out some land- and thrall-rights on the other islands to help tide the clans over until the sky clears again.” She paused again and took another deep breath. “And while they were in the meeting-hall… We’d expected an ashfall, maybe some fire-flows. Instead, the whole mountain exploded.” Lorna swallowed and said nothing. Vala nodded. “The loudest roar I’ve ever heard. Maybe you even heard it from the mainland, it was that loud. An ash cloud like… Like nothing I’ve ever seen before, like it turned day to night. More rock than I’d ever imagined, blasted into the sky – the whole island just… What was that fancy word that skald-thrall used? You’ll remember. During that festival, years ago.”

“‘Obliterated’,” said Lorna quietly.

“That’s the one. All the way down to the water and beyond, just left a sort of ring of rock spikes sticking above the water. Sent that wave you saw, rushing out in all directions, before the sea came in to fill the space and started to boil, sending steam up to join the ash. If the rest of us hadn’t set up camp over on the next island… We were lucky to escape the wave as it was!” She closed her eyes again to compose herself. “So. Yeah. You wanted to know about the wave, and the sky? That’s what happened.”

“I… Gods, Vala. I know they’re the Fire Islands, but I never thought…”

“No, nobody did,” said Vala. She folded her arms. “So. You’re sure that’s a no on sailing with us?”

“It’s a no,” said Lorna firmly. She unbuttoned her heavy oilskin coat and pushed it back, resting one hand on her hip. “I’m blood-bound to the land now.”

Vala looked down at her belly, curving outwards beneath her knitted jumper. “…Oh.”

“Yes.”

“Who…?”

“My husband. His name is Euan. The baby’s due in another two months, give or take the odd week.”

“Euan. Not a name from the clans. A land-walker, then.”

“Of course.”

“Oh, Selaaa…” Vala raised one hand to her brow and dug her fingers into her hair. “A warrior, at least? So far as they have warriors on the mainland…”

“A shepherd,” said Lorna flatly.

Vala’s lip curled in distaste. “A thrall.”

“This isn’t the Islands,” said Lorna. “The people here aren’t split into warriors and thralls. Free people herd livestock and grow crops too.” She straightened her back, gripping the staff more tightly. “And if he were a thrall, so what? It wasn’t one of the warriors who saw how miserable I was in Hestvik and helped me to get out. It was a thrall from the fishing docks. Nobody in the Orca Clan would help – all they thought was that I was nervous about sailing on my first raid.”

“Mother had set aside a bench on Sea Wolf for you,” said Vala, smiling fondly despite herself.

“So all I got from the clan was ‘Oh, spend some more time in the training hall, you’ll feel more prepared after a few rounds with the weaponmasters’. Nobody listened when I tried to tell them that I didn’t want to be a raider, that I didn’t want to hurt people, to steal from them, to enslave them. Nobody but her. Somehow word had got down to the harbour that I wanted to leave – I don’t know how, maybe a servant heard me and passed it on. She helped me to take a boat, a small one, and sail away for good. Her name was Lorna. The gods know there was nothing else I could do to repay her.”

Vala glanced uncomfortably to one side.

“What?”

“Uh… Yes, Mother found out about her.”

“So she’s…”

“Very dead,” one of the other raiders cheerfully confirmed. “Slipway tithe for Whale Sister’s launch.”

“Shut up, Bjarni,” said Vala wearily.

“And I don’t suppose you spoke against it,” said Lorna after a brief, shocked silence.

Vala shrugged, folding her arms. “Oh, I’ve always thought it’s a waste of a working body, but you know how the priests get about the slipway tithe and paying the Deep’s dues. And… well, she was only a thrall, Sela.”

“My. Name. Is. Lorna.”

Vala stepped back at the look on her face. “…Lorna. All right.”

Lorna let out a snort like a bull about to charge and allowed her shoulders to relax slightly, but her scowl remained.

Vala went on, clearly having realised her misstep, if not completely understanding why it was one. “Where are you staying these days? Not here, I can tell – there’s not much grazing, if you’re herding sheep.”

“Euan’s family have a farm some way inland. A little fortified steading, up in one of the glens that lead north off the nearest sea loch.” She waved an arm in the right general direction. “The grazing’s decent there. His father usually gets a good price when it’s time to take the sheep down to the market.”

“Another shepherd.”

“He is now,” said Lorna. “But he was a bit of a warrior in his younger days. He said they used to call him Bruide the Brute, back when he was running with a sellsword band.”

Somebody gasped back among the raiders on the beach, but Vala just nodded. “That’s something, at least. And… You’re happy among the land-walkers? Up the valley with your shepherd?”

“Happier than I ever was in Hestvik.”

Vala shook her head, smiling ruefully. “I don’t pretend I’ve ever understood you,” she said. “But… I am glad you’re doing well. Look, I’ll keep Sea Wolf out of your loch on our raids, how’s that?”

“I suppose that’s as much as I can hope for,” muttered Lorna.

Vala reached forwards again, paused for the briefest instant, and patted her shoulder. “Maybe it’s for the best,” she said. “You never did do very well in the training hall, eh? Go back to your farm, little sister. Herd your sheep. Birth safely, and wait out the winter. If you need me – well, you remember how to make a beacon.”

Lorna nodded. “Goodbye, Vala.”

Vala nodded back and turned away, shouting for the ship to head back to sea. One of the raiders – not Bjarni – paused, giving Lorna a strange look, before one of his fellows grasped his arm and they all gathered to shove Sea Wolf back off the sand into deeper water, scrambling back aboard once the ship was floating again. Vala took her place at the tiller, raising a hand in a final farewell as the others ran out the oars. Before long, both Sea Wolf and Whale Sister had disappeared into the dark.

Lorna sighed, kicked sand over the last embers of the beacon, and trudged away from the sea to her tent behind the dunes.

When dawn came, she packed up the tent and began the walk home to the steading. It was a long one – she would have to camp for another night before she got there – but not particularly strenuous. The track of packed earth and scattered gravel was mostly on the flat, following the bank of Loch Dubh inland until, just after the small lochside town of Inverbeg, a side-road turned inland and sloped gently upwards into the glen. Although it was still cold, barely a month after Midwinter, only a few patches of snow lingered in sheltered spots and the road was clear. Lorna paused to catch her breath on an arched stone bridge over the river, gazing up the glen towards a thin plume of smoke in the distance. She smiled and kept walking until, near sunset on the second day since leaving the beach, the steading came into view, perched atop a small rise above the river. A sturdy stone wall about eight feet tall protected the main house at the highest point, while a bank of earth and a wooden palisade encircled the farmyard with its byre, storage sheds and other outbuildings. The gates were still open as she approached; Bruide was outside, leading a small, shaggy pony carrying panniers filled with blocks of freshly-cut peat towards one of the sheds.

“That’s you back from your stroll, then,” he said when he noticed her. He pulled back the bar securing the shed door and began to carry the peat inside. “Find what you were looking for?”

“More or less,” said Lorna. “The staff was useful, thank you.” She cast an eye around the farmyard. “How are we doing for winter feed?”

“Well enough for this time of year. Why?”

“I think… Winter will be a bit longer than usual. You’ve noticed about the sky, and heard about the Great Wave.”

“Aye, I have.” Bruide glanced upwards. The sunset was an unusually vibrant shade of red. “Hm. Might have to sell off a few o the flock to buy fodder for the rest, but we’ll survive. Wouldnae be the first long winter I’ve seen. Now, I willnae tell you to help in your condition, but if you could lend a hand wi a few o the wee blocks…”

Lorna chuckled. “Don’t worry, old man, I’ll help you out.”

“Cheeky besom,” said Bruide with a smile, the old blue tattoos on his face crinkling with his laugh lines. “Here’s a wee one for you.”

“Where’s Euan?” asked Lorna once they had finished stacking the peat and seen to the pony.

“Och, he’s away up in the top pasture. One o the yowes has a bad foot – he wanted to see if that salve you picked up does it any good. Should be back down in time for tea – couple o the bairns from the next croft are lending him a hand taking the sheep in for the night. Morag’s got a stew going.”

Lorna smiled again. Bruide’s wife was an excellent cook. “I’m sure the smell will lure him in if he’s lost track of time.”

“Aye, that’s the plan. Anyway, away in out o the cold. We can crack on wi some o the mending while tea’s on the go.” Bruide locked the storage shed behind them and walked up to the house, pausing to kick the worst of the mud from his boots on the metal scraper by the door before he hung his long woollen cloak with its wolfskin mantle up in the porch. Lorna hung her coat on the hook beside it and followed him in to the main room, where a pile of torn clothes and old sheets awaited their attention. Morag, busy in the kitchen, peered through the door and jabbed her wooden spoon pointedly towards the sewing basket before she returned her attention to the stew-pot.

Bruide stirred the fire with an iron poker, settled in his armchair by the hearth, and selected a worn sock from the top of the pile and a needle and spool of thread from the basket. “C’mon, then, lass,” he said with a grin. “I’ll race you.”

Lorna sat down in the next chair and picked up a tunic with a tear under one arm. “It’s only fair if we measure it by number of stitches,” she said. “If we go by things mended, you always win by grabbing all the little ones first!”

Bruide stuck his tongue out. “You’re just jealous I’m faster at sewing.”

“Just fix them!” shouted Morag from the kitchen.

Bruide and Lorna shared a glance, gave a snort of laughter in perfect unison, and began their mending. A while later, when the sun had disappeared behind the hills but the sky had not yet lost all its light, Euan finally got back from the pasture and Morag called everyone through to the dining table once the gates were locked for the night.

Outside, a gentle snow began to fall.

~~~

Yeah, that guy who looked back? He's important.

The Sea People - who don't, I think, even have a collective name for themselves; they're just 'the clans' as far as they're concerned - are pretty used to volcanoes. As the name implies, they get quite a few eruptions out in the Fire Islands. Unfortunately, they'd gathered to prepare for an Eyjafjallajökull, and got a Krakatoa instead.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[skelly3d]

Project Grave Robbers

Notes

This story uses old characters at times and even words in Old English. If it's an Old English word it will have context clues to help you read what it is. As for the special characters, it would be 

Þ = thorn or th which changes the, that, thought to þe, þat, þought 

ð = eth which changes with to wið 

æ = a, specifically the a in that to þæt 

Prologue 

Down þere he could imagine it, þe smell of fresh grass and moss, þe chirping and scuttling of various creatures and þe sound of wind rushing þrough forests þick wið undergrowð. Soaring above þe landscape would reveal mountains of moss green jutting out towards þe sky reaching for þe clouds, a pleðora of moss mound like caves wið vines and overgrowð shielding þeir entrances. Giant trees where þe canopies connect to one anoðer, trailing like a snake towards þe mountains and around þem. An ocean þick wið þe smell of salt and faint lights þat once þe sun goes past þe horizon light up þe seabed as if þe stars had sunk into it. If one didn't know what þey were looking for, þey might mistake þe moss and vine mounds as just þat. But if you were to look closer, mountain ranges don't grow out of metal and glass, natural caves don't have squared off rooms of brick and metal where families would gaðer, moss doesn't walk around guarding a long dead compound. But þis is what you see when you trail þe skies of a long dead world þat has noþing but fields of decay. 

He could imagine it because it was þe same story again and again. How many times had he seen þis endless ruin no matter what system þey went to þe story was þe same. It was like we were chasing ghosts, fragments of a memory. Trying to just find one living lifeform þat could tell us of þe horror of what had fallen upon þem. could it have been some kind of divine retribution? Or was it a collapse of þeir own making þey couldn't recover from? Or was þere some cursed þreat þat was now hiding in þe shadows of þe galactic void waiting for þe right time to strike?

It doesn't matter þat þose questions would never be answered. What you should ask is what armaments did þose drones have? How many walkers are þere? Because þat's someðing all of þese grave worlds had in common. þe loyal armies of þe dead þat continue to fight even after þeir masters have perished. A cold mechanical army þat kills wið brutal accuracy and has no need for prisoners. þey cannot be reasoned wið because þey don't have þe capacity for it. Unlike humanity þat created droids in þeir essence þat þey could care for like children, fight wið like broðers and love wið like þeir partners, þese were created wið þe entire purpose of removing þe very life essence from your crying eyes.

He spun þe holo model of þe planet once more hoping to see someðing different about þis one but no, noðing had changed, no matter how many times he spun þat model. He lifted his head from his desk and leaned back in his chair as if he was deep in þought, before slumping back down opening his desk drawer and pulling out a packet of cigarettes and a tray. He really hated off days. It reminded him of how boring space was if you're not þe one piloting þe multi billion pound cruiser. He tapped þe cigarettes against his leg before pulling one out and putting it in his mouð and lighting it. 

He wanted to be back in his ship, flying amongst þe stars but reading þrough hours of flight logs was more interesting apparently. þe techs on þe ship were þrilled wið his flying ability and it's why he was rushed aboard þis stuffy science vessel, headed to anoðer dead planet. He could at least enjoy one freedom compared to flying wið þe R.S.F. He took a long drag on his smoke and exhaled…Silence. Equipped wið state of þe art air filtration A.I, it could tell þe difference between a cig and a fire and act accordingly. No more crammed smoking areas and no more false flag fire alarms because a crew member forgot þey couldn't smoke on þe flight deck. þose spanner-heads really enjoyed a smoke. He sighed and looked over at þe clock, "guess I'll get some sim time in" he said aloud.

He stubbed out his cigarette and placed þe packet in his pocket. Alðough smoking in your room was allowed, þe corridors between ship areas were anoðer story. Well, for military personnel at least. He left his room and went out into þe winding halls of þe ship. 

A slight off-white colour to all þe main bulk of þe walls wið a gray trim here and þere and to detail it off, small lights and screens dotted about wið pipes þat snake in and out of þe walls leading to endless parts of þe ship. You might þink þis is a raðer plain and boring looking ship but you would indeed be mistaken. You only needed to look closer to see þe age of þis old girl and þe journey þat she had been on. Rust, dirt and grime living in þe corners. Worn patches around hidden access panels for parts þat had broken down one too many times. Leftover frost on some of þe cooling pipes where various pilots and oðer personnel had left a beer or two sat þere to cool. All of þese small details would present þemselves over time. A ship shedding its skin and baring its true colours. 

Wið all vessels of þis size you could get lost very easily. Which is why you should always check þe signs, þe pilot þought to himself. Two wrong left turns and raðer þan be near engineering, you could end up in þe food court or you could end up in þe farm labs…or maybe some strange M.I.S.A military intelligence secret agency part of þe ship and have to be escorted back to your quarters by some raðer boring S.B.S meat-heads, he chuckled to himself. Three weeks on board þis ship before he decided to fully set up þe neural link wið þe ship's on-board low AI so þat he could get a full ship heads up display. Well, þis did get him þe nickname lost pilot and frequent jokes about how people were surprised he ever made it anywhere.

þe sim room was in engineering so a couple of lefts and a couple of rights and a couple of minutes on þe auto rail and you were þere. But þe minute you step off þe auto rail you would be greeted by þe smell of sparks, metal and propellant of some form, topped wið notes of strong alcohol and cigarette smoke. þis was definitely his favourite place to be. Alðough one might mistake engineering for a run down gravbike pub, þey weren't under þe same stiff military expectations as he was. He was, after all, a guest on such a science vessel. His only job was to shoot þe þings þat could impede research and engineering. 

He walked on towards þe sim room trying not to interrupt anyone's work. þis meant side stepping even þe smallest part of metal. It might look like a mess to you but in all likelihood, þat mess is a tidy complete picture for þe spanner-head. Every part had its place even þe parts þat were unrecognisable as human made. þis place may be engineering but it was also still a research vessel so þat meant grafting alien tech to human tech and hoping it would work. þis also seemed to be þe reason þat þe flight sim room where a pilot would spend most of þeir time would be on þe oðer side of þis place. You had to know what you were flying.

He input his key code and entered þe pilot training sim room. As soon as þe door shut behind him it became silent, rim lights along þe edge of þe room lit up wið a soft blue hue. Twelve cockpits sat around þe room in groups of three wið names of each pilot þat þey belonged to being tagged on þe neuro H.U.D.. A science vessel only needs a small escort of fighters and considering þey were all hand picked by þe top admirals or principality þey really should be all þat's needed. However two of þe slots names were different from when he first joined þis mission. þere was always room for promotion on þis vessel ( pick a name ). He sighed. No need worrying about it now, he þought and he proceeded to sit in his assigned training pod. 

His face was lit up wið a soft blue glow as þe pod's systems came to life. A hand shape appeared on þe screen and he pressed his hand against it, activating þe rest of þe pod. He got himself into a comfortable position, attached þe flight harness, performed þe necessary systems check and þen proceeded to pull down þe cockpit's roof. þe glass of þe cockpit flickered a couple of times before blotting out þe room and plunging him into complete darkness which was followed by a dimly lit red light þat appeared, showing him now to be in a long corridor. þis was þe launch tube of þe ship he was on and it stretched for what seemed like infinity wið only þe slightest glow at þe end telling you þat þere was indeed an exit. His eyes followed þat red glow þat ran þe lengð of þe tube and as his eyes came level wið þe exit, a new menu popped up.

It was a list of various different scenarios, some made up and some true. Some are too sad to return to. He hovered his hands above various scenarios briefly stopping on one "Damien's sacrifice". He had played þis one over and over, trying to complete it. Maybe today was different, maybe today he would win at þis one. It was unlikely but he þought it was worð þe time. He continued pressing buttons on þe haptic monitor until þe sim was ready to start.

[gamecrag]

Warhammer 40k is a tabletop game that features a wide range of weapons, from the humble bolt gun to the terrifying power of a Blackstone Fortress. With so many options available, it can be difficult to determine which weapons are truly the most deadly. In this article, we will explore some of the top 10 most deadly ranged weapons in Warhammer 40k 10) The Bolter The bolter is a heavy, high-velocity gun that fires explosive shells. It has a high rate of fire and good accuracy, making it an ideal weapon for laying down fire on the enemy. It also has reliable stopping power, so you can count on it to take out even armored targets with one shot. 9) The Plasma gun The plasma gun is another high-damage weapon that can be used against both infantry and vehicles. It's often fired while on the move, making it ideal for use by units such as Terminators or Space Marines who are often on the move in order to get into combat quickly. The plasma gun is also very effective against certain types of enemy units; its high rate of fire makes it ideal for dealing with large numbers of lightly armoured troops like Orks or Eldar Guardians (as well as other Space Marine units). 8) The Multimelta The Multimelta is a heavy anti-tank weapon that is widely used in the Warhammer 40k universe by various factions such as the Space Marines, the Imperial Guard, and the Adeptus Mechanicus. It is a larger version of the standard Imperial Meltagun and is designed to project its intense blast from two closely-mated barrels. The weapon fires a beam of intense heat that is capable of melting through even the thickest armor. It is effective against both armored and unarmored targets, making it a versatile weapon in battle. The Multimelta is often used to take out enemy vehicles, such as tanks and walkers, but it can also be used to destroy enemy fortifications and buildings. The Multimelta is composed of multiple Meltagun barrels and is powered by a backpack-mounted fusion cell or generator. The fusion cell provides the energy needed to fire the weapon, while the barrels allow for a wider and more focused beam of heat. The weapon is typically manned by a single operator, who is responsible for aiming and firing the weapon. 7) The Hellfire Missile The Hellfire Missile is a highly explosive missile that is capable of killing anything within its impact radius. It is primarily used by Space Marine squads, particularly by their Devastator squads, which specialize in heavy weapons. The Hellfire Missile is equipped with a warhead that releases a cloud of toxic gas upon impact. This gas is incredibly lethal and can kill most living beings within its radius. It is particularly effective against heavily armored targets such as tanks, as the gas can seep through vents and other openings in the armor, killing the crew within. While it certainly packs a punch by itself, it is often used in conjunction with other weapons and tactics to create devastating effects on the battlefield. For example, a squad of Space Marines may use a Hellfire Missile to disable a tank or other armored vehicle, allowing them to move in and attack the crew with other weapons. Alternatively, they may use the missile to clear out a heavily defended position, allowing them to move in and secure it. 6) The Plasma Cannon The Plasma Cannon is a powerful energy weapon and the bigger brother of the previously mentioned Plasma Gun that is used by various factions, including the Space Marines, the Imperial Guard, and the Eldar . It is a heavy weapon that is typically mounted on vehicles or wielded by elite infantry units. Upon pulling the trigger, the Plasma Cannon fires a bolt of superheated plasma, which is a highly energetic state of matter that is created by ionizing gas and heating it to extremely high temperatures. When fired, the bolt of plasma can melt through armor and flesh alike, making it an incredibly deadly weapon on the battlefield.

Of all the targets the wielder will want to aim at, it is particularly effective against heavily armored targets, such as tanks and other vehicles. It is also useful for taking out large groups of infantry, as the plasma bolt can cause devastating explosions that can kill multiple targets at once 5) The Melta Bomb The Melta Bomb is a small, yet incredibly deadly explosive device. It is typically used by elite infantry units, such as Space Marines, who are tasked with destroying heavily armored targets like tanks and fortifications . The Melta Bomb works by releasing a burst of intense heat upon detonation, which is capable of melting through even the thickest armor. This heat is generated through a process known as thermic combustion, which involves the rapid oxidation of a fuel source in the presence of oxygen . The result is a highly focused beam of energy that can burn through metal, stone, and other materials. Because of its incredible destructive power, the Melta Bomb is an incredibly valuable weapon on the battlefield. It is often used in situations where other weapons are ineffective, or where a target needs to be taken out quickly and efficiently. For example, a squad of Space Marines may use Melta Bombs to destroy a fortified position, allowing them to advance and secure the area . 4) The Grav-Gun The Grav-Gun is a long-range weapon that can be used against both infantry and vehicles. It has high damage output, but it only has two shots before you need to reload. The best part about this weapon is that it's easy to use because it doesn't require line of sight like other weapons in Warhammer 40k do (like the Lascannon). 3) The Vortex Warhead One of the rarest and advanced types of specialized Warp-based ordnance used only in the direst of circumstances by the Astra Militarum, the Titan Legions or the Imperial Navy. It is a type of Vortex Weapon that can be launched by a Deathstrike Missile Launcher, Imperial Titan, or a Strongpoint. They are a product of the Dark Age of Technology and one of the rarest weapons available to the Imperium. The Vortex Missile is rightly feared by the foes of the Imperium, each one capable of tearing apart even the most heavily defended fortress walls. When fired, the Vortex Missile doesn't just irradiate or obliterate the target. Instead, it opens an infernal rift to the Warp itself, creating a temporary doorway that sucks everything within a certain radius into the Warp, where it is destroyed or sent to an unknown fate. The deployment of a Vortex Missile is a grave decision, as it is incredibly dangerous and unpredictable, and can potentially destroy everything within a large radius of the target . 2) The Heavy Bolter It's a big, heavy gun and another bigger variety of its equally iconic little brother the Bolter that fires explosive rounds at a high rate and with great accuracy. It can take down most infantry units in one or two shots, and it has enough stopping power to penetrate even the heaviest of armor. The downside is that it does have some drawbacks: The Heavy Bolter requires you to stand still while firing (and for some reason it makes you look like a T-800 from Terminator), but if you're patient enough, this weapon will make short work out of any enemy unit on the battlefield! 1) The Lascannon The lascannon is a powerful weapon in the Warhammer 40,000 universe because it requires a large power array to work and is designed to punch through tank armor, making it effective against heavily armored vehicles. Lascannons are designed for anti-armor purposes, while heavy bolters are designed to mow down enemy infantry, and vulcan mega bolters are even more effective at this task. However, lascannons are also expensive and their damage output can vary, making them less reliable than some other weapons. In terms of power output, a lascannon is capable of punching through hyper-durable

fictional materials like armored slabs of plasteel, ceramite, adamantium, etc, instantly.

[smartzinc]

Unlocking Efficiency: 5 Ways Smart Locks Enhance Property Management

As a property manager, you juggle a lot - maintenance requests, leases, tenant issues, inspections, and more. IoT smart home technology like smart locks provide new ways to simplify operations and add convenience for both managers and residents. In this article, we’ll look at 5 key benefits smart locks offer property management.

Flexible Access Control

Smart locks allow you to control and monitor exactly who can access each unit and when. This enables new flexibility:

Send virtual keys to contractors so they can enter to perform work even when tenants aren't home.

Provide temporary virtual keys to cleaning crews and maintenance workers without having to manage physical keys.

Let prospective tenants and brokers tour units independently by sending virtual keys with set access times.

Issue limited-time keys for short-term rentals guests. Keys expire automatically after the rental period ends.

Integrate smart locks with other smart devices so lights, thermostats and cameras activate when tenants use their keys for added security.

Managing access is much simpler without the hassle of distributing physical keys that can get lost, stolen or duplicated.

Automated Audit Trails

Smart locks log every time a unit is accessed along with the identity of the person entering. This creates an audit trail that enhances security while providing transparency.

Audit logs allow you to:

Confirm contractors completed work as scheduled by verifying access time.

Ensure cleaning and maintenance crews aren't spending unauthorized time in units.

Identify when brokers and prospects toured the property if issues arise.

Avoid "he said, she said" disputes with time-stamped access records.

Storing access logs in the cloud allows quick lookup when needed rather than flipping through physical log books.

Remote Locking and Unlocking

Rather than driving to a property, smart locks allow you to lock and unlock units remotely from your smartphone or computer.

This enables conveniences like:

Letting service technicians in remotely to handle emergencies when tenants aren't present.

Unlocking a unit if a tenant gets locked out instead of sending someone with a physical key.

Securing vacant units instantly without onsite staff.

Ensuring all units are locked at close of business each day with one click.

Changing access permissions remotely if a tenant is evicted or a key is lost.

Plus you gain peace of mind knowing you can check lock statuses and secure properties anytime, anywhere.

Simplified Key Management

Physical keys create a management hassle as they get lost, copied or aren't returned by former tenants. Smart locks eliminate these headaches by using electronic credentials.

Benefits include:

No need to track physical keys since credentials are generated instantly within the smart lock app.

Virtual keys can be deleted or deactivated remotely if a tenant moves out or key is lost/stolen.

No risk of unauthorized duplication since virtual keys are encrypted.

Units can be rekeyed in seconds. No more lock replacement cost and hassle.

Multiple virtual keys can be assigned with custom access rules. For example, housekeepers may only access on certain days/times.

Simplified key management saves you time while improving security.

Enhanced Tenant Experience

Smart locks don't just benefit property managers - they also provide a more convenient, engaging experience for tenants.

Smart locks allow tenants to:

Use their smartphones as keys to easily unlock doors. No more fumbling for keys!

Receive temporary virtual keys to grant access to visitors, dog walkers, contractors etc.

Review their own audit log showing who has entered their unit and when.

Set up geofencing so doors unlock automatically as they arrive home.

Confirm doors are actually locked when they walk away.

Request additional virtual keys as needed through self-service app.

Tenants appreciate these conveniences that traditional locks can’t match.

The Key to Efficiency

Incorporating smart locks lays a strong foundation for a streamlined, tech-enabled property. They plug into an expanding ecosystem of IoT devices for automation and remote management. With simplified access control, audit trails, and remote administration, smart locks resolve many security and logistical headaches. This allows you as a property manager to focus on providing an exceptional living experience for tenants.