#concept is rabbit hunting during the morning

[wyrtig]

MARCH

[rislyann]

random info ♡

sometimes you really need just a tiny, random piece of info but you end falling into a rabbit hole about customs of ancent times

All the text under 'read more' in case someone is interested;

The life of a medieval knight

So, we know how to become a medieval knight, but what was the life of a medieval knight really like? The life of a medieval knight was centred around medieval castles or manors and fighting for his lord. The majority of a medieval knight’s life was spent perfecting his fighting skills and staying in good shape for battle.

The life of a medieval knight may have looked as follows:

The day started at dawn with a mass service, in which prayers would be said.

After this was the first meal of the day: breakfast.

Once they had eaten, knights would partake in weapons practice.

Next up on the schedule, were strategy meetings. During this time, knights would have discussions about warfare strategy and learn more about siege warfare and weapons.

Knights would now take part in mid-morning prayers and eat their second meal of the day.

As time went on, there was a greater emphasis placed on manners and chivalry. As such, knights were expected to learn the rules of the Code of Chivalry, which was a moral system that introduced the concept of chivalrous conduct. They would also be expected to learn the Art of Courtly Love, which was a 12th-century treatise written by the author, Andreas Capellanus. Knights may spend time learning dances during this time.

In the afternoons, knights would focus on their horsemanship. They would typically go riding with their lords, spending time hunting, hawking, or inspecting the estate.

When evening rolled around, it was time for another prayer service. This was followed by supper.

After this, the knights might have enjoyed some entertainment, in the form of music, dancing, jugglers, Jesters, etc.

The final step in the life of a medieval knight was bedtime prayers.

Knight facts for children

By the end of the Middle Ages, many countries had their own standing armies, which meant they no longer needed knights.

The word ‘knight’ comes from the word ‘servant’ in Old English.

Willian Marshal was one of England’s greatest knights - in 1217 and at the age of 70 years old, he defeated a French army which was invading Lincoln!

Knights followed a chivalric code which was influenced by Christianity.

Women could also be knights - the Order of the Hatchet in Catalonia was a military order of knighthood for women.

Knights were rewarded with land to own.

They had to be ready to fight whenever their King called on them.

A knight’s son would likely become a knight too.

Swords were designed to look like a cross as a reference to Christianity.

Knights held tournaments where they re-enacted battles. They could last hours or days!

[harmonyhealinghub]

Unravelling the Tale: The Origins of the Easter Bunny Shaina Tranquilino April 2, 2024

As the spring season unfurls its vibrant colours and fragrant blooms, it brings along a whimsical figure that has captured the hearts of children and adults alike for centuries—the Easter Bunny. With its basket of colourful eggs and boundless charm, the Easter Bunny has become an integral part of Easter celebrations worldwide. But have you ever wondered about the origins of this delightful character? How did a rabbit become synonymous with Easter?

To trace the roots of the Easter Bunny, we must embark on a journey through time, folklore, and cultural traditions. While the precise origin of the Easter Bunny remains somewhat elusive, its evolution can be linked to various ancient customs and symbols.

One of the earliest connections to the Easter Bunny can be found in ancient pagan celebrations, particularly those dedicated to Eostre, the Anglo-Saxon goddess of spring and fertility. Eostre's festival was held during the vernal equinox, marking the beginning of spring and celebrating the renewal of life. Rabbits, known for their prolific breeding habits, were revered as symbols of fertility and abundance during these festivities.

As Christianity spread across Europe, it often assimilated and adapted existing customs and symbols into its own religious observances. This process, known as syncretism, led to the incorporation of pagan traditions into Christian holidays. The celebration of Easter, commemorating the resurrection of Jesus Christ, coincided with the timing of pagan spring festivals, including those honouring Eostre.

Over time, the symbolism of the rabbit merged with Christian Easter traditions. In medieval Europe, rabbits were associated with the Virgin Mary due to their perceived ability to conceive while remaining virginal—a belief stemming from the mistaken belief that rabbits could reproduce without mating. This association with the Virgin Mary, along with their existing symbolism of fertility, further solidified the rabbit's connection to Easter.

The first written mention of the Easter Bunny can be traced back to 16th-century German literature. It is believed that German immigrants brought the tradition of the "Osterhase" (Easter hare) to America in the 1700s. According to German folklore, the Osterhase was a mythical creature that laid colourful eggs for children to find on Easter morning, much like the modern-day Easter egg hunt.

The concept of the Easter Bunny continued to evolve in America, where it became firmly entrenched in Easter celebrations. The tradition of decorating eggs, another ancient custom symbolizing new life and fertility, became intertwined with the Easter Bunny's narrative. Children would leave out baskets in the hopes that the Easter Bunny would fill them with eggs, candy, and other treats.

Today, the Easter Bunny remains an enduring symbol of joy, renewal, and the magic of springtime. Whether it's through Easter egg hunts, festive decorations, or whimsical tales, the Easter Bunny continues to enchant and delight people of all ages, transcending cultural boundaries and uniting communities in celebration.

As we revel in the joy of Easter and the arrival of spring, let us also take a moment to appreciate the rich tapestry of traditions that have shaped our collective heritage. The Easter Bunny may be a product of folklore and imagination, but its enduring presence serves as a reminder of the timeless power of myth and the beauty of cultural diversity.

[bougiebutchbitch]

for the hc thing, if you're still doing it... kakashi makes really realistic dog sounds revisited: when they were kids, obito was actually convinced kakashi was a ninja dog in human disguise because of this and tried everything in his power to confirm it (offering dog treats, fake throwing a kunai to see if kakashi will chase after it, laser pointer, etc). now. does he still believe kakashi is a dog as an adult? during the war? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anon. Anon you are SO big-brained. :Jake Peralta voice: Your brain is so huge, so hard, so smooth and shiny.

I want a filler episode of this. An entire omake. I want this to be a thing SO BADLY. I am writing to Kishimoto and pleading him to make this canon. This is the story we deserve, and the one we need right now.

Some concepts for your consideration:

It takes Kakashi approximately 0.5 seconds to twig that Obito's staring a lot, and 0.5 of Obito’s attempts at fake-throwing a kunai to figure out why. And - well. He's a strict stickler for the rules. He's a serious, mission-orientated shinobi who has no time for fun or friendship. He's also a bratty, lonely little eleven-year-old with no clue of how to socialise normally, whose only joy in life is mercilessly bullying his older teammate So, he'll eat a dog-treat when Obito's watching. Just to commit to the bit (and... okay he kinda likes them, shut up). But if Obito tells Rin 'oh my god he's actually eating gravy bones, what the fuk', Kakashi will be sat with his back to them both, calmly finishing off his rations. Kakashi goes full gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss is what I'm saying. He starts actively trying to convince Obito he's a ninken. And it is GLORIOUs.

So, one time, when they're on hunting duty while in the field, rather than sniping a rabbit with a kunai, Kakashi suddenly sits bolt-upright, then fucking bounds over the fire (and over Obito) and pounces on one that was about to make a runner into the bushes. Snaps its neck, trots back to Obito, and drops it poker-faced at his feet.

Obito sees Kakashi jerking about weirdly at night. Has a minor panic - has someone poisoned him????? He doesn't like the annoying, cocky little brat but he doesn't want him dead, and - ...Nope, Kakashi's fine. He's just kicking his leg and twitching and growling softly, like he's chasing someone in a dream. But by the time Obito shakes a groggy Rin awake and points, he's stopped. (...okay, so that one wasn't an intentional set-up. Kakashi, uh, genuinely does get the odd hunting dream where he's sprinting through the forest. When Obito hisses at him the next morning that he was totally running in his sleep like a dog, he denies it to everyone, including himself.)

Obito meets Pakkun for the first time - maybe Kakashi sends him to communicate with Minato, when he's off solo? And Obito just points at this tiny, bored-looking pug and screams 'I KNEW IT I FUCKING KNEW IT - ' Then Kakashi saunters out of the bushes like 'Oh hey - introductions. Crybaby, meet my summons. Pakkun, meet the deadlast crybaby.' Obito is murdering him with his mind.

After the war, Obito obviously lived and went on the Uchiha Redemption Roadtrip with Sasuke. He offhand mentions '...so does Kakashi still growl in his sleep?' He gets a long silence, then a '...yeah?' in reply. This is how Obito inducted Sasuke into the cult of 'Kakashi is actually a ninken in disguise'. Almost. Until Sasuke's brows furrow and he murmurs 'Wait... but the sharingan can see through henges. You've looked at him with your sharingan activated, right?' The sound of Obito's self-directed facepalm echoes throughout all the Kingdoms of Narutoland He tosses Kakashi a gravy bone when he next sees him. Kakashi, still committed to the bit after twenty-odd years, grabs it out the air without looking up from his book, gives a freakishly realistic bark, and turns the page. Crunching can be heard from under the mask. And Obito finds himself cracking a grin.

[ibijau]

part 9 of the Nomad Nie AU // On AO3

the nomads move for the winter, and encounter some trouble on the way

After some consideration, Lan Xichen and Huaisang decided that Mingjue did not need to know that his brother had hurt himself for the time being. Though the wound was healing slowly, Huaisang swore that it was getting better at what was a normal speed for him, and Lan Xichen believed him. After all, Huaisang had stopped fighting his husband on that subject, and allowed Lan Xichen to help him keep the wound clean and to check on it when they were alone. It did seem healthy enough, as long as Huaisang didn't poke it too much.

They also decided that, until Mingjue had forgiven Lan Xichen for the hunting trip, it would be best if he didn’t know that Huaisang had shared his secret with his husband. Lan Xichen felt somewhat uncomfortable about what seemed like a lie to him, but trusted Huaisang to know his brother’s temper.

There were more pressing things to think about anyway. A few days after that conversation, the time came for the whole clan to move toward their winter dwellings, and such an endeavour left little time for personal problems. Lan Xichen had never even moved houses, except for the summer after his mother’s death which his brother and him spent at a relative’s home. Taking what amounted to an entire village and putting it on wheels was particularly impressive to him. He asked as many questions as he could, and Huaisang patiently answered them all, with Mingjue or Meng Yao adding details if one of thel was around.

As Huaisang explained, for their clan moving was a more complicated thing than for most others, because they were a larger group than most nomads. If Mingjue had not been Khan, it was likely that some of their most distant cousins would have broken off in search of their own territory. Even like this, they usually separated in two smaller groups during the winter so that their respective herds didn’t compete for food and exhaust the winter grass too soon.

“You don’t prepare hay for the winter?” Lan Xichen asked upon hearing this.

“Hay?” Huaisang repeated. “Hay… I don’t know that word.”

“It’s… cutting grass and putting it to dry so animals have something to eat in winter,” Lan Xichen explained.

“Ah… no, they manage on their own. Our animals are smart enough for that,” Huaisang proudly said. “If Han beasts are too stupid to feed themselves, it must be so bothersome.”

“We just raise them differently,” Lan Xichen protested, though having lived most of his life in the city before this trip with his uncle, he couldn’t be sure. Perhaps Han animals were really lazy and pampered. He would have to ask Meng Yao if he was more educated in these matters. “Isn’t it dangerous to break into groups like this? Aren’t you at war with the Wen?”

Huaisang laughed, and nodded before explaining that it would have been rude for anyone to attack in winter. It offended the heavens, and unless there was some very great dispute happening between two clans or two tribes, then usually even enemies could be expected to offer hospitality once the first snows started. In the same manner, attacking while people were moving camp was such a repulsive concept that Huaisang actually shivered when Lan Xichen expressed that worry.

“What honour is there in a victory over weakened people?” Huaisang asked.

“But then, less soldiers die,” Lan Xichen pointed out, which got him a horrified look. Sun Zi possibly wouldn’t be a popular read here, he figured, and quickly changed the subject before offending his husband’s sensibilities any further.

When the big day came, it took barely more than a sichen for each family to dismantle their ger, and only a little more time to place the different components on carts pulled by oxen. For personal items, crates had been put on the back of other oxen. Those crates were also used to carry those too young or too old to be riding horses. Cattle could carry more weight than horses, Huaisang had explained, and they were usually more even tempered. At the same time, they were more dangerous when their temper did change, and it was not unusual for people to die or be wounded during the move. They did everything they could to prevent that, but the risk could never be fully eliminated.

Because the migration could be dangerous, young people often took it as a matter of pride to help keep everyone safe. Almost everyone had a story about some disaster or other that they had prevented, be it calming an ox before it could throw off the babies it carried, or killing wolves that had been chasing one of the herds. Everyone except Huaisang, who Khan Mingjue kept close to himself and forbade from putting himself in danger.

That year, like every year apparently, Huaisang begged his brother to put him in charge of something. He promised to be careful, to let someone else handle the oxen if they were too agitated, to only shoot from a distance if there were wolves, but his brother refused to listen, and even threatened to have him ride on an ox like a child if he wouldn’t stop being unreasonable. 

Having said this, Khan Mingjue braced himself for his brother to explode with anger, as did everyone around them. Yet Huaisang, in spite of his obvious humiliation at being dismissed that way, managed to keep his calm this time.

“If that’s my Khan’s decision, I’ll respect it,” he hissed. Then, after a glance at Lan Xichen who nodded encouragingly, he added. “Still, do consider it, if the need arises. We need everyone to do their part, and I don’t want to do any less than others. If there’s something I can do, I hope you’ll let me.”

“I will,” Mingjue promised, taken aback by that reasonable reaction.

Satisfied for the time being by that progress, Huaisang dropped the matter and went away with his husband to show him the cart containing their own ger. When they were far enough from the Khan, Huaisang kicked some clump of yellowed grass with enough force to send it flying, and launched into a long rant against his brother’s tyrannical tendencies. Lan Xichen counted this as a victory anyway. If Huaisang could learn to keep his temper in check around his brother, then the Khan might start to accept that his brother was more than just a capricious child.

Huaisang’s promise to be well behaved and not put himself in danger was soon put to the test. Even within the first few days, there were already incidents happening. Nothing too big on the whole, but only because it was caught on time: oxen getting annoyed, herds being spooked by somethings and nearly running in panic, and a pack of wolves that seemed to be following them from a safe distance, clearly waiting for a chance to strike.

“We’ll lose a few horses, probably some cows as well,” Huaisang predicted, before his face turned dark. “In bad years, we lose a child that wandered off.”

Lan Xichen shivered upon hearing this. He knew wolves were dangerous, of course, but they had never been part of his daily life. His uncle had warned him they might encounter some as they travelled west, but he had made it sound like a small risk compared to what some nomads might do to them if caught. Lan Xichen hoped he wouldn’t have to come anywhere near wolves, not when even someone as fearless as Zonghui would show caution when chasing them away from the herds.

Of course, younger men showed less fear. About a week into the start of the journey, one boy a little younger than Huaisang managed to shoot a wolf that had attacked a heifer under the cover of night. He proudly showed off his kill to the entire clan, and was treated like a hero by his peers. Even though the Khan advised against needless acts of courage, he too congratulated the boy for his success. Huaisang watched, clearly devoured by envy, but said nothing.

A few nights after, when there was another attack while Huaisang was keeping watch. It was a normal chore for young people, but for Huaisang it was a first, and the Khan had made it quite clear he shouldn't take it as an excuse to be reckless. So when he heard wolves, Huaisang dutifully told others to go after the animals and stayed safely behind. This time two wolves were killed, and again the Khan thanked the young people who had protected the herds while his brother seethed quietly.

The morning after, Huaisang was in a predictably dreadful mood as they resumed their journey. Sitting on his horse more stiffly than usual, Huaisang kept glaring at everyone, and looked ready to snap at whoever would dare to talk to him. Lan Xichen felt dreadfully sorry for his husband, especially as he was beginning to understand just how important that sort of heroism was among the nomads. The wolves’ pelts had been prepared to be kept right away both times, and Lan Xichen had been explained they’d either be sold for a very high price or kept as precious courting gifts, valued as highly as a good racing horse.

“You’ll have your turn too,” Lan Xichen told Huaisang when his husband kept glancing toward the heroes of the day. “Your brother will come to reason, sooner or later.”

Huaisang shrugged, his expression only becoming darker at that reassurance. Lan Xichen turned to Meng Yao, who was riding with them that day. He hoped that his friend would support him and encourage Huaisang to obedience, since he was so scared of the Khan himself, but Meng Yao shook his head.

“If the Khan was to ever trust Huaisang, it would have happened already,” he said, turning to Huaisang. “If you wait for his permission, you will be an elder and you will never have killed anything fiercer than a rabbit. Of course I’m not encouraging you to put yourself in danger,” Meng Yao quickly added when Lan Xichen frowned at him. “It would be very unwise to cross him, especially when he already has so many worries, trying to get everyone safely to the winter dwellings. Still… things are what they are.”

Huaisang sighed deeply.

“I really don’t want to bother him, but also… I could have killed one of those wolves last night. I could have!”he exploded, slightly startling his horse. “If Yasheng could, then anyone might have managed. It wasn’t even that big of a wolf, probably a pup born this spring!”

“Then why didn’t you try?” Meng Yao asked. “Don’t tell me you’re really expecting your brother to notice your obedience? He never pays attention to what you do, unless it crosses him, you know that.”

Lan Xichen felt a little annoyed at Meng Yao for saying that. It was a great misunderstanding of the Khan’s character in his opinion. Of course Meng Yao couldn’t understand how much Mingjue cared about his brother, and there was bad blood between him and the Khan. Still, even before learning of Huaisang’s secret, Lan Xichen wouldn’t have accused the Khan of being uncaring. A little clumsy in handling his emotions, yes, but right from the first moment he had known that Mingjue loved his brother dearly, and wanted nothing but his happiness.

“I’m trying something,” Huaisang evasively answered. “I’m a married man now, I can’t continue acting like a child. I have to show an example for my poor, unmarried brother so that he too can see the appeal of settling down.”

Meng Yao smiled indulgently at the weak joke, but he did not appear quite convinced by that explanation. Lan Xichen then promptly asked about a mountain range in the distance, eager to change the topic. Even if Huaisang had been doing well so far at keeping himself out of trouble, Lan Xichen worried that talking too much about this would tempt him to do something stupid.

For a few days, there were no more attacks on the herd. The pack of wolves that had followed them for a while seemed to have given up on pursuing them after such heavy losses. But this didn’t mean the animals were safe: soon enough, a few people spotted a solitary male trailing them, which Lan Xichen learned was far more worrying than a pack. Wolves did not do well on their own, and so that lone male might get desperate and attack just anything it would get close to -or anyone.

Still, this wasn’t the biggest worry on everyone’s mind. It had started snowing, and that was a more urgent concern. The snow remained light so far, but it was also constant, and everyone was worried they’d struggle to reach their wintering location. Everyone also kept a close eye on children and elderly people to make sure they did not suffer too much from the cold. Lan Xichen himself had some trouble with those temperatures, and was given as warm of a deel as could be found to wear under his Han robes and help him withstand this weather he wasn’t used to.

Quite shamelessly, Nie Huaisang also kept offering to help keep him warm, a devious smile on his lips. Lan Xichen always mildly scolded him for suggesting something so improper, while his husband laughed at his reaction. Mostly, Lan Xichen was annoyed that there was even less privacy than usual as they travelled, which meant they barely managed to kiss, let alone think of other things.

Not that he wasn’t happy with the time they spent together. Lan Xichen was glad that they could ride their horses together, that Huaisang was teaching him how to help around and be an active member of the clan, that they could chat whenever there was a moment of quiet. He enjoyed all this greatly. It was just that he had the ever growing certainty he’d also enjoy being perfectly alone with Huaisang to slowly peel away every layer of clothing on his husband’s body so he could kiss every inch of warm skin and…

And that was not a train of thought he ought to have had in public, Lan Xichen had to remind himself several times every day. The time for it would come, hopefully, but the time just wasn’t now.

On one snowy morning, it was decided that the time had come for the group to divide into two, since they were approaching one of the wintering spots that the clan used. They spent most of that morning checking who was going in what direction, whether nobody would be taking something that wasn’t theirs, and how soon someone should ride between the two camps to check that everyone had managed to settle according to plan. 

While Lan Xichen was rather untouched by all this activity, it wasn’t so for Meng Yao. It had initially been decided that he would go with the other group, but at the last moment Khan Mingjue changed his mind. Meng Yao would stay where the Khan could keep an eye on him, which meant all his possessions would have to be transferred to a different cart. So far he had been sharing the cart of Wenyan, a widow with whom he got along fairly well, and whose toddler was particularly attached to him. The child cried heavy tears the entire time Meng Yao moved his possessions, but the Khan had made up his mind and wouldn’t be moved.

It really was unfair, Lan Xichen thought. Maybe once the Khan had been convinced to trust his brother a little more, they would have to work on making him do the same with poor Meng Yao. When they started moving again around noon, Lan Xichen shared that idea with Huaisang who agreed that the situation was ridiculous, and they tried to find ideas on how to make the two reconcile.

It kept them busy for a good half of the afternoon, until they had the surprise of being joined by Meng Yao who should have been very far away already.

“Wenyan says that Cunzhi is missing,” Meng Yao urgently said when they asked why he had returned. “Nobody has seen him nearly since we separated, and she was afraid he managed to escape to come see me so she rode all the way here. Someone needs to warn the Khan, but her horse is tired and I… well, I can’t,” he sighed. “I’m already going to be blamed for this, I don’t want to be the one to tell him.”

“I’ll tell him,” Huaisang immediately said, already preparing to dash ahead, but Meng Yao shook his head.

“Isn’t it better if you send Lan gongzi and come with me to look for Cunzhi? He could be just anywhere, and you’re one of the best riders of the clan. If he’s out in the wild, I’m sure you’ll be the one to find him.”

This gave Huaisang pause. His hands tightened on his reins, and he glanced at Lan Xichen, to ask for his opinion. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to go. After all, finding that child would show people that he wasn’t just lazy and pampered, while also being far less dangerous than hunting wolves or calming an ox.

“Your brother won’t be happy if you go without his permission,” Lan Xichen still said. Huaisang’s face fell at the reminder. “The child is probably just hiding on a cart. I’ll go with Meng Yao to check if he wandered off, you warn your brother and see what he thinks should be done.”

With great reluctance, Huaisang agreed and sent his horse galloping toward the front of the group. Meng Yao watched him go with an unreadable expression, before turning his own horse around to go in search of the child while Lan Xichen followed suit. They joined up with a few others to check that the child hadn't been found, then quickly separated after agreeing to meet at a certain place. Meng Yao and two others went riding in the direction the other group ought to be while Lan Xichen retraced their steps. They all thought it unlikely that Cunzhi would have been just left behind, so it seemed enough to have just one person go that way. Meng Yao had volunteered, but the Khan did not allow for him to ride alone, so Lan Xichen was picked instead. 

Just as expected, Lan Xichen reached the site where they had camped for the night without seeing a trace of the child. He could easily have turned around then, but decided instead to check carefully. Unlikely didn't mean impossible. Jumping down from Shuoyue, Lan Xichen called Cunzhi’s name until he thought he spotted something in a small bush, a touch of red hidden under the snow covered branches. It could have been nothing more than a bird, or a scrap of fabric, but Lan Xichen thought it prudent to check.

Inside the bush, he found Cunzhi.

In spite of the warm clothes he wore, the child’s face and hands were a concerning shade of purple, and it was rather obvious that he had been crying a lot. Lan Xichen didn’t lose a moment. He fell to his knees and plunged his hands into the bush to retrieve the child, not noticing the way sharp thorns were tearing at his skin and sleeves. He was only glad to be wearing some of his own clothes over the deel lended to him, since it made it easier to protect the child’s face from those same thorns.

“No!” Cunzhi weakly cried out, refusing to leave his hiding place. He struggled without much strength, sluggish from the cold. “Cunzhi want Menyao!”

“I’ll take you to Meng Yao,” Lan Xichen replied, without much effect. The child started crying again, and wriggled with all that he had, trying to escape his rescuer. “Please, Cunzhi, calm down. Meng Yao is looking for you, don’t you want to see him again?”

“Cunzhi wait here! Cunzhi is good!”

Lan Xichen sighed, and tried to get up again. It was not an easy task with the toddler fighting against his grasp, and riding Shuoyue would be even worse. The horse had a good temperament and shouldn’t get spooked by the cries of a child on his back, but if Cunzhi managed to escape Lan Xichen’s grasp and fell, he might get seriously hurt. Not only was Lan Xichen worried for the child, but more selfishly he feared the Khan’s reaction, should something of the sort happen.

Hoping to calm the toddler and buy his cooperation, Lan Xichen started looking into his clothes for a snack of some sort. “Do you want something to eat, Cunzhi?” he asked. “If you’re good, you will get a treat, and you will also see Meng Yao and your mother.”

“Mama?” Cunzhi sobbed, clumsily wiping his eyes. “Cunzhi want mama. Cunzhi want mama now!”

“Then Cunzhi comes with Xichen,” Lan Xichen said, dangling a piece of aarduul in front of the child. “You’re going to be good, right? Your mother is very worried.”

To Lan Xichen’s immense relief, the food had the intended effect. Cunzhi’s tears slowed down a little as he stared at the aarduul, making a grabbing movement. The toddler had finally started to calm down when Shuoyue decided it was its turn to become agitated. The horse whined and neighing with ever increasing alarm. When Lan Xichen turned to see what the matter was, he found himself face to face with a wolf.

If Lan Xichen had known more about wolves, he might have noticed that the animal was rather thin, as if it hadn’t eaten well for a long while, and not a particularly impressive specimen overall. But for Lan Xichen, who had been expecting wolves to be nothing but a bigger and meaner sort of dogs, the encounter was terrifying. He was unarmed, away from anyone who might have helped him, and hindered by a child who, after seeing the wolf, had just started crying again from fright.

Lan Xichen’s first impulse was to run for it and try to reach Shuoyue, but the wolf stood between him and his nervous horse. The animal looked ready to bolt away at the first excuse anyway, making that option unsafe.

The wolf growled, and stepped closer.

Overcome by terror, Lan Xichen glared at it and shushed it.

“Quiet!” he ordered in the same annoyed tone he once used on his brother when they were children and Wangji had decided to learn the guqin on his own. The wolf growled again. Lan Xichen stomped his foot and changed his hold on Cunzhi so he could wave one arm menacingly, making his long sleeve waver before him. “I said quiet! I don’t have time to deal with this, so you’d better leave me alone!”

Noticing that the wolf seemed to be following the movements of his sleeve, Lan Xichen waved his arm more menacingly.

“Go!” he shouted. “Or else we’re both going to regret it! Go! Go now!”

The wolf hesitated, snarling at Lan Xichen who continued shouting, stomping, and waving his free arm until the animal decided that this prey wouldn’t be worth the effort. It walked away, turning to check on Lan Xichen every few steps. Lan Xichen continued shouting until he figured that the wolf was far enough, at which point he ran to Shuoyue, jumped on its back, and sent it running. The horse, just as terrified as its riders, galloped for longer than was safe, until they reached the place where he was supposed to meet the others looking for Cunzhi.

Lan Xichen was the first one there, though Cunzhi and him were not alone for very long. After a little while, a group of riders joined him coming from the main group of nomad rather than those who had split off, among which were Khan Mingjue and Huaisang.

“You found him!” Huaisang said, bringing his horse closer. He looked at Shuoyue, drenched in sweat, trembling with exhaustion, and frowned. “Which did you push your horse so hard? It was not so urgent.”

“I was worried Cunshi would become sick,” Lan Xichen said, figuring there was no need to reveal his encounter with a wolf. “He seems unwell, no?”

“Cunzhi cold,” the toddler mumbled. “Was scary. Snow, and big dog.”

“Big dog?” Khan Mingjue remarked, coming close as well and taking the child from Lan Xichen. “What big dog?”

“It’s nothing,” Lan Xichen said, looking away. “We had an encounter, but nothing to worry at all. Cunzhi is safe, yes?”

Huaisang turned pale, and grabbed his husband’s wrist.

“You fought a wolf?” he asked. For a moment, Lan Xichen feared that his husband would get jealous over that chance for glory, but Huaisang’s face showed nothing but open concern. “Are you hurt? Did it bite you? Your hands are bleeding!”

“Not from the wolf,” Lan Xichen replied, a little embarrassed. “I’m fine, really. I just shouted at the wolf until it went away.”

The nomads, at first, stared at him as if he had insulted their ancestors. Before too long, Khan Mingjue burst out laughing, followed in this by the entire group except Huaisang who only looked more worried. They were all still laughing when Meng Yao and the others with him reached the meeting point. After being brought up to date on the situation, they started laughing as well, though at that point everyone was also complimenting Lan Xichen for handling that situation so well. Lan Xichen, who had just been terrified, accepted the compliments with humility, convinced he had just been lucky. If the wolf had been a little hungrier, or a little stronger, both him and Cunzhi would have been in trouble.

Later on, as they were alone in their tent and getting ready for the night, Huaisang cuddled against his husband’s side and made him give a more detailed account of the encounter. Huaisang shivered the whole time, and by the end of the story his expression was quite grim.

“You were very unlucky to have met that wolf,” he said, “but very lucky that things went so well. From now on, you need to carry a sword.”

Lan Xichen agreed. Several people had already told him the same thing, including the Khan himself.

“I guess now I understand a little better why my brother is like this,” Huaisang said. He paused a moment, pressing himself harder against Lan Xichen’s side who wrapped his arms around him. “Don’t tell Mingjue I said that. He’ll be awful if he hears I can agree with him sometimes.”

“Isn’t he always awful?” Lan Xichen teased.

“Only when he’s right,” Huaisang retorted with a pout. “Which happens far too often.”

Lan Xichen chuckled, and pulled Huaisang closer to him, until his husband was almost sitting on his lap. He’d get embarrassed in a moment when the Khan returned to their tent, but right then, as it finally hit him just how much danger he’d been in, Lan Xichen needed this too much to care about shame.

[emy-loves-you]

Sanders Sides AU-gust Day 1: Fantasy

Fae!Patton x Knight!Roman

Patton POV, Royality with background Analogical

Masterlist | Day 2

In the Kingdom of Brillare, it was not uncommon to hear stories of the fae. Some believed them to be just that: stories. Little tales to tell children before bedtime. Some did not believe in them, but still followed the tradition of deterring bad fae. It was not strange to see St John’s Wort or Yarrow growing in the windowsill of a family with a newborn. Or to see iron runes around a doorway, even decades after humans lose the ability to read them. The more superstitious would leave offerings in their yard and carry daisy petals in their pockets.

The small village of Fiore was not superstitious in the slightest. With a population of less than 60, Fiore didn’t have much access to Fae tales. They planted whatever flowers they pleased, regardless of whether or not it attracted or deterred Fae. They stayed clear of mushroom circles and flower fields, not because they feared of fae hiding there, but because they were too busy working to keep their village afloat. There were far more dangerous things hiding in the woods.

But if you were to walk past the village and into the fields, you would notice things. Like how some of the mushrooms were pulled out of the ground, preventing them from forming full fairy circles. How the flowers were sparse in all but one area. How at night the fireflies would stay away from that area of the field, yet there would always be a pale blue light somewhere in the field. If someone with knowledge of the unknown were to see the light, they would recognize it for what it was: magic.

Because living in the field of flowers was a tiny fairy named Patton. Patton was a tiny fae, only a few inches tall. But that didn’t mean that he was weak. What Patton lacked in size, he gained in magic. Patton considered himself the silent protector of Fiore. Or, one of the protectors of Fiore. Sure, the other protector knew nothing of Patton’s existence, but it was okay. After all, it was considered wrong for Fae to interact with humans as equals. Fae were superior in terms of magic and cunning, so it was seen as obscene to be friends with humans, much less want to protect them. But Patton wasn’t like most Fae.

That’s why Patton lived alone, in his own tulip on the outskirts of a human village. That’s why Patton destroyed the other Fairy circles. Sure, Patton was alone- an extremely uncommon thing for Fae- but the humans were his to protect. And Patton would lay down his life for every single human in this village.

Patton was extremely grateful that the village did not believe in fairies. That meant that every night Patton could wander the village as he pleased. He blessed the plants to have a fruitful harvest. He soothed the children who were suffering through nightmares. He blessed the newborns with gifts of strength and wit and heart.

(Sometimes, a traveler or two would visit for the night. They would always warn the village of the nasty fae who cursed innocents and stole children. The villagers would always respond in disbelief. Patton would always be sure to hide in his home for a few nights, just in case.)

Now, Patton promised himself that he would not develop attachments to the humans. He lived much longer than any of them could ever dream of living; it would only break his heart to grow attached. But Patton could not lie. He did have a few humans that had wormed their way into his heart. Three, in fact. It didn’t help that they were the only three that dared to wander into Patton’s flower field.

The first one was Logan. Logan was only 10 summers old. Logan was the son of a farmer and a carpenter, but all he wished to do was read and watch the stars. Every morning, Logan would be found reading a book under the old Hawthorn tree between the village and the field. Patton wished he could read the odd human language, if only so he could know what Logan found so fascinating. Sometimes, a village elder would come by and discuss things with Logan. Logan liked to use words that Patton didn’t understand, but it still made Patton happy to listen in. Some nights, Logan would sneak out of the village and into the flower field. He would lie there for hours, talking to himself about the different constellations in the night sky. Some even had stories behind them, which Logan would tell as one might speak about a deity. Patton would be in awe for the whole night, watching as the fireflies lit up the emotions on Logan’s face. Sometimes, he imagined that Logan was telling him those stories. And every sunrise that Logan went to leave, Patton fought the urge to speak out. Patton sometimes wished that he could compel the stars themselves, if only so Logan could stay and tell him more about them.

Next was Virgil. Virgil was not born in the village. He was found 5 winters ago on a hunting trip through the forest. Patton was surprised to learn that the child was 7 summers old at the time. He was smaller than Logan, and he was only 5! Speaking of Logan, Patton was pretty sure that the two had a crush on each other. It was so sweet to see the two of them interact, blushing the entire time. Virgil sometimes journeyed with Logan to the flower field. Sometimes Virgil would come on his own, voicing his concerns to the wind. About how he wasn’t good enough, and that the villagers shouldn’t waste their resources taking care of him. Patton made sure to use whatever magic he could to comfort Virgil on those nights. Sometimes he would control a frog or rabbit to go and cheer Virgil up.

Virgil preferred to wear larger clothing, even during the summer months. He was still small after years of living in the village, but he still helped in any way that he could. Virgil proved to be an excellent climber, able to get in places that others couldn’t reach. He would help set traps in the winter and pick fruit in the summer. He also had a knack for finding things (Patton may have helped in that department). If anything (or anyone) was lost, Virgil could find it. Virgil was actually the one to find Roman.

Roman was the third human to worm their way into Patton’s heart. It was odd, simply because it was different when compared to Logan or Virgil. Patton assumed that if he were to have any young, he would love them as he loved Logan and Virgil. Roman, however, was different. For one, he was older than Virgil. He looked similar in age to Thomas, one of the farmers, who Patton knew was 28 summers old. Virgil had brought Roman to the village one day, an arrow lodged into his shoulder. Apparently, Roman was a knight from Rosso, the capital of Brillare. Roman was sent to scout the trading route between Brillare and Giallo (Brillare’s neighboring country and ally) when he was attacked by bandits. The villagers quickly patched Roman up and he stayed for a week before leaving back for Russo. Apparently Roman had grown attached to Fiore because he would always travel there whenever possible. It was not uncommon to see people tidying up the village for the knight’s return. Every time Roman visited, he would bring gifts and tell stories of his adventures throughout the kingdom. He would also tell stories of myths and legends. Patton was surprised that none of Roman’s stories contained fae. Perhaps humanity’s knowledge of Fae has dwindled since the last time Patton left this village.

It wasn’t until Roman’s most recent trip to Fiore that Patton realized why his feelings for Roman were so odd. Roman had visited the flower field just before sunset, just as he did every time he visited Fiore. Roman sat in the middle of the field, just a few feet from Patton’s home. Roman liked to sit there until well after the sunset and sing. It was apparently a tradition he had with his mother that he wanted to continue.

Roman had the most beautiful voice. In Patton’s opinion, at least. Patton could lie there forever, just listening to Roman’s voice. Sometimes he sang happy, joyful tunes. Other times the night was filled with tales of sorrow. Every time, Patton would try and commit every song to memory, so that he could quietly hum along the next time Roman sang it. In Roman’s most recent visit, however, he didn’t sing about joy or sorrow. Instead, he sang about something else. It wasn’t until well after Roman left that Patton realized what Roman was singing about: Love.

Patton hadn’t thought about love in a LONG time. Sure, he had a mate many years ago, but they disagreed on how humans should be treated, so they separated pretty quickly. And Patton had seen the love blossom between humans, but he never thought about Roman loving another human.

It hurt. The thought of Roman loving someone hurt Patton in a way he didn’t expect. Humans were supposed to love other humans, while fairies loved other fairies. It was an extremely simple concept, but it still made Patton wince in pain at the thought. Patton didn’t realize how attached he was to Roman until now.

Patton was in love with Roman. It was the truth, plain and simple. And Roman was in love with someone else. Roman would eventually get married and never come back. Logan and Virgil would grow old and die. And Patton would be alone. Again. Like he always was.

So, Patton made a plan. He gathered ingredients and made himself a potion. It wouldn’t be a permanent potion (the ingredients to make that were much more difficult to come by) but it would allow Patton to fulfill his dreams before being subjected to heartache. Once the potion was fully brewed, Patton waited until the day Roman was expected to arrive.

Patton panted as he headed towards the road that led to the village. He was carrying the potion in a rose petal to keep it fresh, but it put a lot of strain on his arms and wings. Once he reached the road, Patton searched for a suitable place to hide. He eventually found a boulder along down the road. Patton made sure that he wouldn’t be spotted by any travelers before downing the potion. It was extremely bitter and made Patton’s insides twist uncomfortably, but Patton made sure that he downed the entire potion.

Patton bit back a scream. His insides felt like they were on fire and his skin felt like it was tearing itself apart. Patton layed there for several hours, unsure of if the potion was working or if he was dying. Eventually, the fire died down to a dull ache and Patton was able to open his eyes. The first thing he realized was that his vision was too blurry to see. Patton thought back to the glass contraptions that Logan wore and did his best to replicate them through magic. Once Patton had the contraption on (“glasses,” if his memory was correct) he then noticed that the potion had worked. Gone were his blue skin and wings. Instead, Patton’s skin was pale and his back was bare. He appeared to be just a few inches shorter than he remembered Roman being, instead of the few inches that he normally stood at.

For all intents and purposes, Patton looked like a human. Patton giggled, doing a small shimmy before realizing that he wasn’t wearing any human clothes. He felt himself blush as he conjured some new clothes. The pants were a little tight and the shirt almost showed off his navel, but it was good for Patton’s first summoning attempt. Besides, the clothes (along with Patton’s human form) would only last for three days, which was plenty of time for Patton to get over his feelings for the humans. His plan was simple: interact with the humans that he considered his family, convince Logan and Virgil to get together, find out who Roman’s love is, get over his crush on Roman and parental attachment to Logan and Virgil, convince the other villagers to install anti-fairy measurements, then leave and never return.

Patton stood up on shaky feet. It was a weird feeling to walk. Usually, at least half of Patton’s weight was supported by his wings. He hadn’t fully realized how much easier that made walking until now. Patton kept tripping and stumbling every few feet. It reminded him of when Logan was just learning to walk.

Patton shook his head, easily dismissing the thought. Today was not the day to reminisce. He could do that after sunset on the third day, when he would be long gone.

Patton suddenly felt arms around him and something near his neck. For humans, the metal would be cold but even without touching him Patton could feel the heat of the blade. Iron.

“Well, well, well.” The man purred, dragging Patton down the road, away from the village. “Look what we have here.” Patton didn’t recognize the man’s voice, so he wasn’t from the village. Didn’t Roman say there were bandits along this trail? God, this was a terrible idea. “You’ll pay quite nicely.”

Patton shuddered at the man’s breath against his neck. Pay? “I-I don’t have any money.” Patton said. He wasn’t really shocked to feel the magic in his voice. Without a name to work with, the magic wouldn’t do much other than preventing Patton from lying.

The man laughed. “Oh sweety, I wasn’t talkin’ about money.” Patton chose to say silent, not really wanting to know what the man was talking about.

The man dragged him off the road towards a small campsite. There were two other men there. One of them looked at Patton in a way that made him uncomfortable. Another whistled. “Damn, Rodger. Got yourself a real gem there, didn’t ya?” Patton shivered as the man’s name washed across his skin. It wasn’t enough to control the man, but it could prove useful.

Rodger laughed. “I was thinking he could get us a good amount at the next trade. If not, we could always have some fun with him.” The men laughed, and Patton wished that he hadn’t gone through with this.

Suddenly one of the men fell over, a dagger in their side. The others quickly tensed up, searching their surroundings. Patton felt the blade touch his skin and barely stopped himself from gasping at the pain. The man who whistled yelled out. “Who’s there? Show yourself!” A man walked through the treeline, shocking Patton. Roman!

Roman tsked as he walked towards the fire. Patton whimpered as the iron blade dug a little deeper into his neck. Roman stopped moving forward, but continued to tsk. “I was wondering where the three of you had ran off to. Now, if you let go of that poor gentleman there, I’ll make sure that your cell is nice and cozy.”

The man that wasn’t holding Patton charged at Roman, pulling out his dagger. Roman quickly pulled out his sword and began to duel. The fight didn’t last long (it was a dagger against a sword, what did you think would happen?) and soon the man was on the ground, bleeding out from the gash in his side. Roman approached Patton and Rodger, his sword tinted red. Patton felt the blade dig a little deeper and did the first thing that came to mind.

“RODGER!” Since the name wasn’t given to him by Rodger, the magic did little more than make him freeze up. But that was enough. Patton quickly elbowed the man in the gut, ignoring the way the iron blade cut across his skin. He quickly grabbed Rodger’s hand and used it to plunge the knife into his own neck. Rodger let out a silent scream before slumping over, lifeless.

Patton panted a little before his actions caught up with him. Patton just killed a human, something that he swore he would never do. Patton was suddenly on his knees, vomiting in the bushes next to him. His human-looking body had almost nothing in it, so Patton was mainly dry-heaving.

There was suddenly a hand on Patton’s back as he heaved. “It’s alright,” Roman said, rubbing small circles between Patton’s shoulder blades. “It’s not your fault. It was self-defense.”

Eventually, Patton stopped heaving. And he slumped forward. Roman quickly caught him. “Woah there, friend. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

Patton felt his cheeks warm up and his stomach lurch as Roman picked him up bridal style. They were both silent as Roman carried Patton to the giant creature he liked to ride on. Patton couldn’t remember the species name at the moment, but it was still just as majestic as always. Roman carefully positioned both of them on the creature before slowly heading towards Fiore.

Around halfway there, Patton convinced himself to speak. “Thank you. For saving me.”

“It was no issue. Did they do anything to you.”

Patton shook his head. “Other than the cut on my neck, no. They had just found me before you showed up.”

Roman was silent for a moment before he asked another question. “Why did you yell ‘Rodger’?”

Patton worded his response carefully, not wanting the truth magic to give away that he was fae. “That was the man’s name. I heard one of the other men call him it. I was hoping that yelling it would distract him.”

Roman chuckled. “That must have taken a lot of courage. I’m impressed.”

Patton blushed. “Thank you, Sir Knight.”

Roman was silent for a moment before responding. “My name is Roman.”

Patton barely fought back the gasp at being given Roman’s name. His skin felt like it was on fire again, but this time it was extremely pleasurable. It had been many years since Patton was last given a human name. “P-Patton.” He eventually stuttered out.

Roman’s hands gripped the reins tightly. “Patton.” He said, testing the name on his tongue. Patton had to resist the urge to shudder at the sound. Only in Patton’s wildest fantasies did he imagine Roman using his name. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Patton,” Roman said softly, his voice lower than normal.

Patton felt his blush return tenfold. Getting over his crush would be a lot harder than he initially thought.

[suzie-guru]

“The Bitch In The Moon”

A short story based in my Thereafter Dark universe. I’m already planning on reworking it into Carlie’s introduction chapter...

The sky was still cold black when Carlie Willow jerked out of the preciously few hours of restless sleep that she could manage during this time of the month.

Her heart thumped aggressively in her chest as she trained her eyes upwards, feeling the uncomfortable stiffness of sleep-grit stuck to her lids and lashes. The ceiling was made of a dark rough wood, and she realized, with acute discomfort, that she was laying on that same material, bare ass and all. Jesus, if she got splinters in her ass…where the fuck was she? This wasn’t any place she had woken up before.

The soft cluck cluck cluck hit her before the stench did, making her gag and sit up to dry heave. As her arms shook in their support of her shivering body, she coughed up thick salvia that clung to her raw lips in gooey ropes as she spat. She felt the burn of acid in her gullet and prayed that she could make it outside before she tossed whatever she had snagged the night before onto the dirt.

She belched dryly before lifting her gaze to the beady eyes of the hens that surveyed her as she lay on the floor of their coop, pale and sore and scratched. Little puffs of downy feathers drifted across the straw strewn boards, brushing against her bare skin with a ticklish softness. Carlie tried to count them before laying down once more, her head thick and heavy and her vision spinning nauseously. She closed her eyes and counted to ten slowly, the grain of the wood biting into her tender forehead.

Apparently, last night had been much rougher then she had thought it would be. A chicken coop. Huh. Well, first time for everything.

When she finally felt brave enough to attempt standing, she made her way past the chickens as they clucked their disproval in a growing thrum.

“Sorry if I got one of your friends last night, ladies,” Carlie said dryly, hobbling along on stiff legs, her skin itchy from grime, still hunched over from the pain in her abdomen. One particularly feisty mama hen pecked at her ankle as she passed, and Carlie kicked out, snarling. The hens squawked and scattered away, their distress over this strange creature strong.

Lucky for you that I can’t even stomach the thought of eating anything right now, Carlie thought with a sour snort, her eyes still burning. All it takes is one little snap, and then I could have one of your lovely warm bodies to chew on, feathers for garnish.

She winced as her stomach grumbled, then hobbled as quickly as she could across the yard to her little cottage, thankful that only livestock would be up at this hour. She could care less about her nudity, but it would be difficult to explain to an innocent early morning jogger or some kid waiting for the school bus. Especially with the angry red scratches up and down her limbs, her hair a tangled thatch, and being outside in the freezing air of dawn.

Could say that I was part of an orgy, she thought dryly as she picked her way through the icy clumps of grass – her soles were as tough as leather, but she didn’t need any additional discomforts to her sorry state. That’s typical teenager behavior, right? Orgies and vandalism?

Never mind that sex was off the table for as long as she could help it, and that taking part in acts of random vandalism would only invite attention she did not want. She couldn’t afford to be careless. Especially when she had just got settled.

She finally made it to the backdoor, and with a groan, knelt down and scratched around for the key. Her shoulder knocked against the door, which gave slightly.

Carlie’s head shot up, her eyes wide and alarmed, the panic jolting through her erasing any lingering aches. Did I not lock it last night? Fuck.

She rose, her eyes narrowed in fear, and tensed her body in anticipation before she threw open the door violently. She registered the bang as it echoed in the low light of the cottages living room, and she looked around with wary eyes. Everything seemed to be fine... 

She sniffed the air to be sure, and then let out a growl, both out of impatience at her uneasiness and as a warning for anyone fool enough to be hiding in the shadows. She crossed over the threshold and into the sanctity the familiar darkness offered her, raising her chin defiantly. Even if there is someone in here, screw you. I need a shower.

She limped down the hallway, her eyes still searching for any sudden movements or shadows that shouldn’t be there. It wouldn’t really be a problem if she had to take on an intruder. She could still fight, but when all she really wanted to concentrate on was on losing herself to the steady thrum of hot water, letting it pour off her head and back and erase the stiffness in her joints...

She pushed her worries away, and soon Carlie stood under the water a few minutes later, shampooing her hair, her skin bright pink with the heat of it while the steam rolled up towards the piney ceiling and smudged the glass of the windows, making the dim early morning rays of the sun blurry.  

She watched with lazy eyed satisfaction as mud and dried blood sluiced away from her and swirled down the drain. Practically purring from the comfort, she luxuriously stretched under the spray, feeling her tendons and muscles become rejuvenated. All that was left was a nice long nap before she went out for groceries, and then she would be ready for another glorious run…

She ran long fingers through her sodden hair, and then reached for the bottle of conditioner that stood next to her on the shelf. She normally didn’t use it, but she felt like luxuriating today. She purposefully squeezed out more then she should, and then rubbed it into her scalp, closing her eyes at the lovely sensation. God, she loved when she had time to pamper herself, though what Carlie thought was pampering was what the majority of people saw as basic necessities hygiene. 

As her fingers worked away at her scalp, bits and pieces of images from last night came back to her…racing the wind and the shadows along the snaking line of the river, chasing after young rabbits fool enough to venture out while she was hunting, howling with joy and mockery at the stars stuck in the sky while she ran free. Her fur had blended into the night as she flew over the gorges, the ditches, jumping and rebounding off rocky sides. She had run through the black and silver forest, her eyes and heart and lungs feeling the tug of the moon each time her paws had struck the ground. 

She tilted her head towards the spray and opened her moth, gargling the water that pooled there, feeling the track of it across her cheeks like tears. Her howl had been a song that night, not a wail of misery.

As much as she loved the fierce joy of pack-running, sometimes she had to be on her own. The night seemed more open when bloodlust was not making her vision tunnel, and she hated to even think of the chance of that lust transforming into any other kind of desire. She was still too young in the eyes of the pack to mate, thank fuck. From a human standpoint, she was at the stage when sexual explorations were primed and waiting for her, ready for her to learn.

But she simply didn’t want to learn, not yet anyway. She simply wasn’t human, either.

She shut off the spray and stepped out of the stall, the steam parting around her like water around a rock. She took deep breaths, letting the moisture curl into her belly. She hated the bold, fruity scents of bathing products – they smelled too artificial to her nose, and aside from deodorant, she normally did without perfume or other cosmetics. But Sophia had been able to find a line whose products had a gentle powdery smell that comforted Carlie. It smelled homey, a highly ironic fact given the life she led. She had been uprooted and moved to new settings ever since she was seven, but hey! At least her shampoo smelled like home. She snorted, then shook her hair like a dog.

After toweling herself off, Carlie slipped into some clean panties and padded over to her bedroom, damp hair brushing her back. The curtains were drawn but the sheer cotton still let enough light in to make her room glow cozily, the warm mahogany floors smooth under her scrubbed feet. The pale yellows and warm blues intermingled and made her feel even sleepier, and she yawned hugely before heading over to the only dresser in the room. She normally didn’t bother with nightclothes after showering, but she had been woken up too many times to the sound of people moving around the kitchen or the living room or outside her door, and having time to get decent was a foreign concept to most of the pack.

She tugged a grey tee-shirt over her head that she was pretty sure was Grant’s – she had given him permission to use her room to change for welding, and he had a habit of forgetting certain shirts he knew she liked. This one had been washed so many times the cotton was like angel down on her skin. It slid over her head, and she inhaled deep, the rich, woodsy smell of her pack-pal making her grin. She would have to talk to him about spoiling her like this, the fucking dork.

She turned her attention to the floor, spotting a pair of yoga pants. She quickly snatched them up, tugging them over her legs before they stopped just as she was pulling them over her thighs. Confused, she looked at the label, then growled in supreme irritation. Sophia’s. 

Carlie sighed and kicked off the pants, and wandered over to the dresser once more for sweatpants. She couldn’t blame her cousin for being willowy and leggy and a much smaller size than Carlie, especially when Sophie had openly longed for Carlie’s muscles. And she had told Soph that her room was open to change in. But she could blame the average fashion designer for not creating clothes that catered to her body type. She glanced at herself in the mirror attached to the dresser, trying to study the reflected image without vanity.

The long, lean muscles of her legs and arms were her favorite feature, both limbs ballads to her love of running. The puppy fat of her youth still clung to her stomach, giving her a softness she wasn’t sure she liked. Her entire frame was etched with faded pink lines of old and healing scars – she only wore tank tops around the rest of the pack. Her flannel shirts hid everything well enough, even when the classrooms of the all the schools she had gone to boiled in the summer. She’d rather swelter in misery then risk nosey questions that just might unearth more information than she was comfortable with sharing. It had happened once, it could happen again.

She turned her attention to her face and bit back a sigh. She still had a bruise lingering on her chin from when she had misjudged a distance and rammed into a hulking pine on one of her runs. It stood out like a stain of ink upon her pale skin, a smudge of gray and lilac standing out amongst the coppery freckles smattered across her cheeks and nose. Her hair was tawny, wild and long and wet, the blunt bangs as always making her eyes look like they were peering out from some shadowed place, the gray blue of them alternating between icy and warm. 

Just like Mom’s.

She shook her head and yanked on her usual pair of sweatpants, the ones that Sophia kept on threatening to burn one day.  Got to get some real sleep, I’m getting sappy again.  

She slid underneath comfortably cool sheets, and then wriggled around, letting her form become increasingly wrapped up in the plush multitude of comforters she collected on her bed. She had always been a snuggler, and loved the nest-like feeling of the cocoon of warmth as she slept, like a rabbit in its den.

The sun had risen now, a warm golden orange now painting the surfaces that it could reach, but Carlie’s eyes were fuzzy with sleep. It was a Sunday, which had used to mean that the pack would stop by her place for breakfast. But since this was still relatively new territory for all of them, they had agreed to let everyone settle in before getting together. The slightest thing could draw attention to them if they weren’t careful and didn’t behave – a casual breakfast together would lead to wrestling matches and injuries that would have the nurses at the local hospital whispering. Anything could uproot them.

But Carlie did not think of this, only let her eyes get heavier and heavier as the warmth pulled her deeper and deeper into a welcoming darkness, where she didn’t have to think about starting at another new high school tomorrow, or the squabbles of the pack.

She buried herself deeper into the blankets and let out a soft growl of contentment. Last night had been a night to howl with joy. Now was the time to rest herself and simply dream of the moon on her back and chasing after rabbits and stars.

[twdeadfanfic]

Life at the end of the world Pt.24

Summary: Your life as a zombie apocalypse survivor. It starts with the Reader settling into the camp at the quarry, before s1 and then follows the show events and storyline, more or less, but with the Reader in it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, violence, language.

Author’s note:  I’ve been itching to write a fic like this for a long while and I write it for fun, I don’t claim to be a writer so if you find you dislike this fic, please be kind and just stop reading. English’s not my first language so maybe there’re some mistakes, I apologize in advance. For the same reason, I can’t write character’s accents and things like that. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it. There’d be several parts to this.

Masterlist

When you woke up that morning, a couple weeks after you took in Mark, you were alone in your bed. You had felt Daryl getting up earlier, pressing a kiss to your temple, but you had been half asleep.

You joined the people who were having breakfast, guessing Daryl had head out hunting, but when you made your way towards one of the fences to clear the walkers that were pushing it dangerously, you saw him talking with Rick and Hershel while the two men worked in the growing farm.

After a while, Daryl made his way towards you and you stopped sinking the metal bar into the monster's heads long enough to greet him.

“Good morning. Help me with this?”

“If you need me to.” Daryl sunk his knife into the head of one of the walkers. “But I was going to talk with Glenn, Rick wants us to go on a run tomorrow.”

“Go, I got this.” You answered with confidence. “He’s in the watchtower with Maggie.”

Sasha and Karen where clearing walkers of other fences, and later you’d collect the bodies and drive them away to burn them.

“I think me being this happy is bad for our fences.” You joked, smiling warmly to Daryl, who just seemed confused.

“What you mean?”

“Well... when I was sad, or upset, or worried, I used to let it out here, I’d spend hours here just clearing walkers.” You explained. “Now I still worry about us being safe but I’m too happy to need to vent anything here.” You shrugged shyly.

Daryl seemed shy too, but he smiled at you, moving closer and bending down to kiss you.

“Wait,” you stopped him. “I’ll stain you.” Blood had spattered over your clothes as you worked and was still fresh.

“I don’t care.” He muttered before pressing his lips to yours.

Later that day, after Sasha, Karen and you had burned the corpses, you were in the bathroom cleaning yourself of the blood and dusk, giving thanks once again for having managed to bring running water into the prison. It came from the pit outside, though you weren’t really sure how, into big gallons that you could pump to get a string of water.

It wasn’t a real shower, but it was close enough and the best thing you had had to wash yourselves since the farm.

You hadn’t seen Daryl since the morning, both of you busy, so as soon as you were clean you went out looking for him.

You found him in the yard, sitting down with Carol in one of the picnic tables. You waved at them but they seem to be discussing something important, barely noticing you, so you shrugged and let them be. You went to the backyard, sitting down to enjoy the sunset, waiting for them to be less busy.

Not much later, Daryl sat down next to you. You turned your head to press a kiss to his arm. “Everything okay?”

Daryl just shrugged and you waited for him to explain himself. He wrapped an arm around you, bringing you closer and tangling his fingers in your wet hair.

“Rick doesn’t want to lead us anymore.”

You couldn’t say it shocked you much.

He had stopped going on runs, dedicating himself to the farm he wanted to grow, had stopped even carrying his gun. He’d never been one to make decisions one-sided, but lately, he relied more and more in the others. Glenn and Daryl had been taking care of runs for a while, while Carol did most of the organization around the prison, Hershel helping her and Rick to keep things in order inside the prison, while Sasha and Tyreese had become some sort of bridge between your group and the Woodbury people, the younger sibling becoming a valuable member of the group with her multiple skills.

Still, it was a bit surprising Rick just decided to step away.

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah...” Daryl nodded, seeming a bit lost in thought. “He needs a break tho, after everything. He’s earned it.”

You nodded. The time they had spent away from fight and runs had been good for Rick and Carl, you could see it. Not only for their relationship, which had improved considerably, but also for themselves, they seemed more relaxed and happy. It’d be good for Rick to keep playing farmer for a little while longer as some sort of holidays.

“So what happens now?”

“He doesn’t want to take decisions anymore, he wants a group of people doing it now.”

You nodded, guessing where this was headed.

“So he wants to create a...a council I think Hershel called it.” Daryl frowned. “Rick wants Hershel, Glenn, Sasha, Carol and me making decisions, organizing this...”

“It makes sense.” You lifted your hand to run your fingers over Daryl’s frown, trying to caress it away. “You all had been doing it already for quite a while.”

“But Rick was still leading, it was different.” Daryl shook his head.

“It’s not like Rick’s going away, he’s still here to help.” You knew Rick wouldn’t just abandon you, even if he needed a break. “It’ll be fine.”

You could see Daryl was feeling pressured about being a member of the council, making decisions and organizing things, being in charge without having Rick at his side, leading. He’d been doing it already perfectly, though it seemed like he didn’t see it. He never seemed to appreciate what he did for the group and it frustrated you. If only he could see himself as you saw him, as everyone saw him.

You didn’t know how to put it into words, though, and knew that Daryl’d just scoff it away, as he did whenever you tried to tell him how important and valuable he was, so you hoped you could reassure him just with your presence next to him.

You moved your hand to the back of his neck, stroking the hair at his nape and he buried his face on your shoulder, nuzzling at it slightly.

“You’re gonna do just great.”

You both stayed in silence for a while, enjoying the moment of intimacy, being alone together for a little while.

Your stomach ruined the moment when it growled as you caught the smell of the dinner that was getting ready. Daryl chuckled, looking up from your shoulder, amused, and you blushed in embarrassment.

“Carol’s making dinner with some things Hershel and Rick grew and the rabbits I hunted,” Daryl explained you and your mouth watered. It seemed you wouldn’t have to eat canned beans for a while.

After dinner, Rick announced his decisions and the new council, and as you had expected everyone accepted it without much fuss.

Life kept going, your life in the prison improving as you grew both in people and in resources.

After Maggie and Daryl finally caught a couple of horses and pigs, it didn’t take long for Maggie and Hershel to be able to tame them, and eventually, Maggie even taught you how to ride. You were nothing special as a rider but you could do it without falling down, which was enough for you.

Michonne kept coming and going, never staying long as she always headed out after a few hours of rest and resupply, still looking for the Governor, taking advantage of the horses that now you had.

You didn’t know how she could still hope to find him. Maybe she needed to believe it. She always brought things back that could be useful, or just make your life better, like comics for Carl, outdated chocolate bars for all of you, things to decorate your cell... you wished she’d stop risking her life going out and finally settle into the prison, enjoying the life you had built there.

As the skills of the people who you had taken in began to improve, more of them joined you in runs, and soon you were able to go on runs to places you had never dreamt before, bigger or with lots of walkers roaming through them, not that much of a danger anymore now that you were so many.

There were accidents sometimes, of course there were, it was bound to happen with your lifestyle, but it wasn’t that often. The worse wasn’t even in a run, it was when one of the fences gave in, falling down, walkers crawling inside the prison. You all managed to clear them and put up the fence before it could get too bad, but there had been a few casualties.

Since that, bigger groups spent more time clearing the fences, so it wouldn’t happen again, and you were happy when the council, or at least Daryl and Carol, listened to your suggestions. You had spent enough time there to know a thing or two about it. Clearing fences and watch duty were your two main jobs now, though sometimes you still went out on runs, always feeling uneasy when Daryl went to one while you stayed in the prison, especially if he had to spend the night out too, which thankfully wasn’t that often, Glenn and him agreed it was safer to go on runs that weren’t far enough to have to spend the night outside.

Beth, who had the title of owner of the best-decorated room, kept a calendar of how many days had passed since the last accident. Zach had brought it to her from a run, and even though it was pretty and vintagish, the concept crept you out a bit. Still, when you walked into her room to give her back a book she had lent you, you couldn’t help your smile when you saw thirty days had come and gone without any kind of accident.

“I’m going to say bye to Zach, he’s going out for that run,” Beth told you after placing the book back in one of her shelves. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Daryl?”

“Already did,” you answered, but followed Beth outside.

The run was a big one. Glenn, Maggie, Daryl and you had found the place while scouting during another run. It was a quite big supermarket which was probably unspoiled, with several military tents with supplies still in them in its yard.

Problem was, it was bustling with walkers. Daryl and Glenn had spent days making a plan and finally, they came up with an idea, they would use music to make the walkers leave that area, gathering them somewhere else so you could go to the supermarket.

It worked, now you had to bring back as many supplies as possible from there, and that was what the group was going to do today.

You were supposed to go with them too, but Carol had recruited you to help clear yet another herd of walkers that was gathering outside the fences. They seemed to be endless, more and more showing up from the woods, more of them each day, pushing at rattling the fences. Daryl said the more you were, the more they were attracted to you.

You knew it was important to keep the fences clear, and though you had wanted to help in such a big run, you knew the group that was going was capable, so you hadn’t been too bothered by the change of plans.

You chuckled softly as you heard Beth and Zach talking while she helped Daryl and him to get supplies into the car, the boy telling her how important yet dangerous the run was, though Beth didn’t seem very impressed.

You gave Daryl an amused look, passing him a bottle of fuel, and he smirked at you.

“Time to go.” He announced to Zach.

“Be careful.” You kissed Daryl’s cheek as he turned on the engine of his bike.

No matter runs had been going great lately, no matter Daryl always came back unharmed, no matter you knew how skilled he was, you didn’t think there’d be a day when you wouldn’t worry when he went out, especially if you weren’t with him.

You waved goodbye to Glenn and Zach, who were sharing a car, and followed with your eyes the trail of vehicles as they made their way towards the doors. Before they could go out, though, the doors opened and Michonne galloped in.

You grinned, happy to see her back, and made your way towards her while she talked with Rick and Carl, giving them whatever she had brought back. Before you could reach her, though, you saw her talking with Daryl and then she was getting inside one of the cars to join the run.

Well, you could talk to her when she came back.

Once the vehicles disappeared down the road, you went into the cellblock to take one of the aprons you now wore when working on the fences. Someone had suggested it, tired of scrubbing blood off your clothes, and honestly it had been a great idea. It didn’t stop you from having blood disgustingly stuck in your hair sometimes, another blessing of being short, but at least now half of your scarce wardrobe wasn’t stained with blood.

On your way out you were surprised to find Maggie moping in her cell, she was supposed to goto the run too, though now you recalled you hadn’t seen her in any of the cars.

“Hey, though you were joining the run?” You greeted her from the door.

“Glenn didn’t think it was a good idea.”

Maggie was sitting on her bed, hugging her knees and looking worried. She had looked like that for a few days now, something off with her, though you hadn’t had the chance to ask her about it. You had imagined she might have had some sort of fight with Glenn, and you were waiting for her to come to talk with you if she wanted to before you asked her directly, you didn’t want to come out as nosy, and you had been sure they’d sort things out pretty soon.

“It’s everything okay?” You sat down next to her.

“Yeah...” She nodded weakly and stayed silent for a moment before talking again. “I... It’s not sure but I think I might be pregnant.”

“What?    !” Your eyes went wide with surprise. “How could that happen?!”

“You know how.” Maggie snorted.

“I mean...I thought you were careful so it wouldn’t....” You tailed off awkwardly.

“Yeah, well...” Maggie shrugged.

Another moment of silence passed before Maggie began talking again.

“At first when a week passed and my period still didn’t come I was so scared...but I don’t know... The more I think about it, the more I feel I want it.”

“You do?” You couldn’t hide your surprise and confusion at her words.

“Yeah...I didn’t plan this but I’m not unhappy about it, I think...” She nodded and gave you a weak smile. “I want a life Y/N, I don’t want just to survive. I want a life with Glenn, a family with him.” Her smile was sweet now, and you found yourself smiling too. “The moment’s never going to be perfect, but we can make it work. We can’t be too scared to live. We deserve to have lives.”

You nodded. You liked her words, her ideas, but weren’t as sure as her about it been possible. You would support her, of course, but the idea of having a baby in this world, after Lori and everything that you had gone through, was wild to you. However, you believed Maggie was right, you couldn’t be too scared to live. This was the world now, and you had to make the most of it, try to have the best life as possible in it, not only surviving but actually enjoying life.

You felt all of you were starting to do that now, little by little, as your community grew, as you were safer and thriving, the prison now a home.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” You smiled at Maggie, resting your head on her shoulder, and she took your hand, squeezing it.

“Glenn...he doesn’t really think like that.” Maggie let out a tired sigh. “He’s scared something’s going to be wrong, that something will happen to me during the pregnancy or to the baby...he doesn’t know how we could raise a baby in this world...”

You could understand it, you felt the same. Probably all of you did. But Maggie’s words of hope had almost made you believe it might be possible.

“Well...your sister’s doing great with Judith.” You joked and Maggie laughed softly.

“Yeah...” She gave you a smile. “You know, this is one of the things I like about having a baby here, now. We all help with the kids, we all take care of them together as a group, no matter they’re not ours. That’s good, it’s good for them. A big family.”

You had to admit Maggie’s words were beautiful. Maggie seemed able to see such good, beautiful things, even in this world, and you admired her for it. You nodded, now with a genuine big smile on your face.

“Glenn’ll see it too, I know,” Maggie said with confidence. “He didn’t want me going on a run in case I’m pregnant, he’s already worrying about a baby we might not have.” She laughed though she seemed a bit worried still.

“You two are going to do great, I know it.” You tried to reassure her.

“My father and Beth don’t know it...nobody does. So don’t say it to anyone yet, please?”

“Sure thing!”

You smiled, happy Maggie had decided to confide it to you.

Later that day, once you were done with your job in the fence, you found Maggie sitting down on one of the tables of an empty yard. She waved at you and you went to sit down next to her.

“My period just came.” She told you with a sad smile. “And you know what? I’m kind of disappointed.”

“Oh...” You didn’t really know what to tell her. “Well, if it’s what you want, you can try again in the future...”

“Yeah...” She sighed. “Once Glenn sees that it’s possible... I know it’s possible to have a life here.”

 Daryl, Glenn and the others weren’t back until the sun had gone down. You were in one of the yards, trying to focus your attention in a book so you wouldn’t be so worried about them, when you saw Daryl and Glenn making their way towards the cellblock. Even from afar you could see in their faces that something was wrong, so you run to Daryl.

“What’s wrong?” You asked but Daryl shook his head, placing a hand on the small of your back and gently pushing you towards your cellblock.

“Y/N!” Glenn called behind you, his face as dark as Daryl’s. “Have you seen Maggie?”

“She’s in her room.” You told him, worry clutching your stomach.

You let Daryl walk you away from the others and towards your cell, giving him worried glances as he still hadn’t said a word. You didn’t push him, waiting for him to talk.

Once inside the cell, he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. You wobbled a bit under his weight but secured your arms around him. Something really bad must have happened...

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You raised a hand to caress his hair.

“Zach...” Daryl didn’t look up from your shoulder. “Walkers got him.”

“No...”

The boy had been showing off to Beth before he left, talking about how dangerous the run could be, but that were only jokes, everything was supposed to be fine, everything had been planned thoroughly.

You felt a lump in your throat, the death of the boy hit you hard, even though you hadn’t known Zach for that long, just for some months. It had been enough to feel him part of the group, especially since he began his relationship with Beth and to help in every run. He had managed to get through Daryl, to form a partnership and friendship with him, which you knew wasn’t that easy. Daryl had appreciated the boy and so had you.

“There were walkers on the roof we didn’t know about, it gave up, they all fell in... We should have known, we should have checked...”

“Hey...” You made him lift his head from your shoulder before he could start blaming himself. “The plan was good, Glenn and you thought it through, you couldn’t know what was going to happen.”

Daryl didn’t say anything, looking at you with eyes so sad it broke your heart. You kissed his lips softly and he put his forehead on yours for a moment.

“A shelving fell on Bob, Zach was trying to help him when it happened...”

You nodded sadly. Zach had had a good heart.

“I have to tell Beth.” Daryl pulled away from you and you saw him trying to control his emotions, hardening his face.

“Want me to go with you?”

Daryl shook his head and left the cell without another word.

You made your way to the cell where Michonne stayed in the rare occasions in which she stayed in for the night. She was on the bed, studying a map.

“Hi, long time not seeing you.”

“Hey.” Michonne looked up from the map. “I’m sorry about Zach.” She reached out her hand and you took it, sitting down on the bed next to her.

“Yeah...he was a good one.” You looked at the map she had been looking. “You’re heading out again?”

“Tomorrow. I think he might have gone here.” She pointed at the map and you let out a sigh.

“I wished you stayed...”

“Once I bring the Governor’s head I’ll stay here forever.”

You didn’t say anything. You were sure the Governor was long gone, dead or just far away, Michonne would never find him. But that was not what she wanted or needed to hear, you could just hope she’d realize it eventually.

You were back in your cell, lying in your bed, when Daryl came back.

He took off his vest without a word and went to lie down next to you. He threw an arm over you, curling up with you, and used your chest as a pillow.

“How’s Beth?” You asked, kissing the top of his head.

“She’s okay...too okay.”

“What you mean?”

“She doesn’t seem to care...like she’s so used to people dying she doesn’t care anymore. Said she doesn’t cry anymore...”

You frowned.  You hoped the world wasn’t turning Beth into something harder and colder than the lovely girl she had always been. But you reckoned she was still sweet and caring most of the time. She was a true survivor now, though, and you knew you had to pay a toll for that.

“I think she just needs time to process it...” You whispered, trying to make sense of it. “She probably doesn’t want to have her heart broke, she doesn’t want to suffer anymore...”

Daryl just hummed. He rolled over, pulling you with him and you curled up against his back, wrapping your arm around his waist and resting your hand on his chest, where he laced his fingers with yours.

“And how’re you?” You ventured.

You felt him shrug but you nudged his shoulder with your forehead until he answered.

“Beth asked that too. I’m okay.” He didn’t sound very genuine and you kissed his shoulder. “Just thought we weren’t losing people anymore...I’m tired of losing people.”

“Yeah...” You snuggled closer.

Eventually, you felt Daryl relax in your arms and you knew he had finally fallen asleep. You closed your eyes and tried to do the same, his presence always comforting you, helping you sleep deeply no matter what.

@momc95@jodiereedus22@osweetdevilo@sapphire1727@coffeebooksandfandom  @the-destielr@checkintoreality@aislingsartistry@daddys-little-princess67@sesshomaru-lover @crossbowking@coltcas@feartheendlesssummer @izumi37 @gruffle1@drina365 @kuolematkorjaavat @daeshaunex2 @xtinkersimsx

I never thought anyone’d like to be tag in any of my stories so thank you! It means the world!

If you want to be tagged please let me know.

[marcmyworks]

Radiohead: The Rankings

Over the last three decades one alternative rock band has stood the test of time as being one of the most influential and creative in terms of creative, styles and musicality. The band is the five-piece team from Oxfordshire, Radiohead. Though Tom Yorke does gain most of the credit for the sound of the group, and this is lyrically justified, the band as an ensemble has worked hard to establish their original and fundamentally important cohesion throughout their career. Today I reflect on each album and rank them accordingly.

9. Pablo Honey (1993)

For most artists, their first effort is the most iconic and captivating, however for Radiohead this seems more like a stepping stone into the mainstream. Their first single, ‘Creep’, remains one of their biggest hits, however the majority of the record is 1-2-step classic rock that, though good, is not very memorable. 

Listen: Creep, Ripcord, Anyone Can Play Guitar, You Ignore: Pop is Dead, How Do You?, I Can’t

8. The King of Limbs (2011)

While though the concept of King; being a website exclusive mini album with theme of nature of music being intertwined; is strong, the album itself feels a bit cliché. Upon retrospect its more of the little brother or sister of such strong albums as Kid A or In Rainbows. The sound is very much 21st century Radiohead; a manic collision of instruments that somehow formulates a cohesive sound. Overall the album works, but just doesn’t have enough of a voice.  

Listen: Little by Little, Lotus Flower, Bloom, Codex Ignore: Separator, Feral

7. A Moon Shaped Pool (2016)

An album that brings Radiohead fans a glimpse of their radio-friendly days. Overall a very strong release that is a beautiful combination of what made the band great, and what now makes them great. I like to call this Radiohead’s orchestral folk album because of the abundance of simple acoustic guitars, drums and strings. The only thing that may have made this album better was inclusion, even if subtle, of some electronic beats, however I do love that they finally released the studio version of ‘True Love Waits’ as a bonus track. Though a great album, its just not as important to me as what follows on this list.

Listen: Ful Stop, Burn the Witch, True Love Waits, Decks Dark

Ignore: The Numbers, Daydreams (put down your pitchforks, it’s just not my favourite)

6. Amnesiac (2001)

A few of you may have issue about me placing this album above AMSP but I have a great affinity for Amnesiac, to the point where I even have a tattoo of the logo. Thom Yorke once described this album as the fire burning inside Kid A, and if you listen, it truly is the companion piece. The experimentation is less dramatic and more simplistic than its predecessor but is still impactful and beautiful. The result is a blend of odd tracks that feels like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. A cool tidbit is that ‘Packt Like Sardines in A Crushd Tin Box’s production is inspired by ‘Believe’ by Cher

Listen: Pyramid Song, Knives Out, I Might Be Wrong, Packt Like Sardines in A Crushd Tin Box

Ignore: Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors, Hunting Bears

5. In Rainbows (2007)

What I love about In Rainbows was the band let the fans decide what is was worth and how much to pay for it. I remember at the time I was a broke gallery intern in London, UK and I managed to scrape together £5 to support the band. What also made the album special was the ability to remix two of the singles and submit for contests. I still listen to the remixes I created (found here and here), though of course the original tracks are far superior. In Rainbows is a strong and wonderful piece of (dare I say it) colourful art, which is why it is considered to be a fan favourite.

Listen: Videotape, House of Cards, Nude, Bodysnatchers Ignore: Weird Fishes/Arpeggi

4. Hail to the Thief (2005)

In 2005 Radiohead went back to their more rock-oriented sound to create the amazing Hail to the Thief. What I respect about this album is that it doesn’t succumb to nostalgia but is a valiant tour-de-force that stands well enough on its own. With some of the band’s strongest singles (’There There’, ‘Go to Sleep’, ‘2 + 2 = 5′) mixed in with experimental songs and piano driven ballads, the overall effect is brilliant. The lyrics are a commentary on celebrity culture and the Hollywood lifestyle the band witnessed while recording the album in Los Angeles.

Listen: We Suck Young Blood, There There, 2 + 2 = 5, I Will, Go to Sleep Ignore: Where I End and You Begin

3. Kid A (2000)

One of the most important albums to ever be released in music history. Kid A changed the way we as an audience appreciate rock music, breaking the rules of what is mainstream sound and what can be done in the studio. The band had become complacent to traditional sounding mainstream records and promotion and knew the internet was influencing music, though record labels were hesitant and still could not track online album sales.

During the time of release, Kid A was polarizing to a mass audience with fans turning on the band for deviating from what made them successful to critics lauding their efforts. Radiohead was also one of the first bands to not release any singles or videos to promote their album, instead choosing the album to speak on its own. Though it only sold about half of what their previous studio masterpiece OK Computer, it still managed to sell millions Worldwide.

Listen: Idioteque, Everything in its Right Place, Optimistic, Motion Picture Soundtrack, Morning Bell Ignore: Kid A

2. The Bends (1995)

Though probably my favourite Radiohead album I know it isn’t their best. Radiohead’s second album is probably the one of the best rock albums ever released, incorporating the mood of the popular grunge movement but mixed with beautiful melodies and hard-hitting guitars. Though their first hit ‘Creep’ from Pablo Honey made the band famous, this album proved they were not a one hit wonder. Tracks from The Bends are still being played on radio for almost 25 years after its release and having its singles being featured on the soundtracks of films such as Clueless and 50/50 proves its importance in the history of rock music.

Though this record sounds effortlessly clean, it actually was one of the hardest for the band to write as they felt immense pressure from their label to achieve the same success they had with ‘Creep’. Overall it took a mini-break and singer Thom Yorke recording demos on his own to finally bring the final track-listing and singles to where the band felt they had achieved their goals. The result is a 12-song masterpiece that really shaped my musical interests and love for alternative music.

Listen: All of it. Ignore: None of it.

OK Computer (1997)

AKA: Duh, of course this was number 1 as the third time is still a charm. OK Computer was the first album in which Parlephone, Radiohead’s former label, finally trusted them to create music without an RA (Record Associate) breathing down the band’s neck. On a budget of £100,000, Radiohead went back their studio in Oxfordshire, purchasing equipment, such as plate reverberators to create odd and unusual sounds to mix with their classic rock sound.

OK, though still radio friendly is an extremely experimental, and is obviously an F-You to the music industries demand for The Bends part deux, proving that the same formula does not need to be repeated to be successful.

Listen: All of it. Ignore: None of it.

[thecomicsnexus]

Turtle Soup

Turtle Soup #1. September, 1987. By Bernie Shuman, Danny Shuman, Steve Bissette, Frank Bella, Stan Sakai, Eric Talbot, Jim Miller, C. A. Stormon, Francis Mao and John Downling.

"Turtle Dreams" by Steve Bissette.

In April’s apartment, Splinter meditates, contemplating the evils of the night. Suddenly, the Turtles smash through the window, exhausted from battle and carrying a grim package: the grievously injured Michaelangelo. Splinter inspects the wound and finds that Mikey’s plastron has been split in twain and the gash nearly reaching his internal organs. Splinter quickly binds the wound with herbs and bandages and urges his sons to sleep, only to find that they’ve already passed out.

Each Turtle is plagued with unspeakable nightmares. Raphael leaps at a giant gaping maw head-on, only to be swallowed whole. Leonardo chops his way through a horde of nightmarish monstrosities, only to eventually become overwhelmed by their numbers. Donatello takes flight against his enemies on a winged dinosaur, but the monsters of the night tear both his steed and him down.

Michaelangelo is worst off, as he is fighting for his very life within the dreamscape. Mikey finds himself cut completely in two, revealing his still-beating heart. “The Mate of the Night”, a decomposing haggish monstrosity, reaches down, plucks out his heart and devours it.

In the waking world, Splinter sees his sleeping children struggling. Returning to his meditation, Splinter seeks to psychically rescue them from their nightmares.

The Turtles then find themselves in a linked dream. They are all babies again, paling around on a beach. They are approached by their momma turtle, who leads them down to the depths below the waves. There, they sleep peacefully, curled up with their mother.

Back in reality, the Turtles sleep soundly at Splinter’s feet, having been saved from their mental anguish.

"Pesticide" by Frank Bella.

As Leonardo walks down the street, expounding on how most turtles like to hide in their shells, he sees his brothers besieged by giant cockroaches. Revealing that he prefers to face trouble, Leo draws his blades and charges into action. As he does so, he contemplates, “I knew New York had a roach problem, but jeez!”

"Turtle Soup and Rabbit Stew" by Stan Sakai.

Leonardo falls through a portal, crossing time and space, before popping up in the world of Miyamoto Usagi. He assumes it has something to do with after-effects of meeting Renet in #8, and soon encounters a group of aggressive samurai. Nearby, Usagi gets into a fight with a bunch of ninja. After defeating their respective enemies, Leonardo and Usagi are just about to attack each other, when Leonardo disappears, and comes back into April's apartment.

"The Howl" by Eric Talbot.

Raphael is patrolling the city when he comes across a big dog, which turns out to be more of a werewolf. After a short fight, a mysterious man enters and takes the werewolf with him, thanking Raphael for finding it.

"Showdown" by Jim Miller and C.A. Stormon.

As the Turtles and the Varmints (Lucky the aviator rabbit, a detective hamster and a samurai duck) both round the same corner, Leonardo and Lucky smack headfirst into each other. Neither leader is willing to admit fault and both demand satisfaction for the slight. Both groups fight, but prove equally matched in battle. Leonardo comes up with a solution of his own; he’ll act as ref while his brothers and the Varmints compete in a rooftop relay race.

Mike and the hamster are first off the line and scale the nearest building via the fire escape. They leap off the first roof and onto the second, but come in too fast and crash into the next members of the relay.

The samurai duck and Raphael recover at the same time and each take swinging lines over to the third building. Unfortunately, their lines get tangled and both slam face-first into a brick wall.

Eventually, they tag Lucky and Donatello, who race across the roof and leap down into the alley where the finish line awaits. They smash into craters in the concrete. Leonardo declares the race a tie, but the detective hamster insists that Lucky was first.

The samurai duck says he has an ancient Japanese tiebreaker and produces the Jewel of Solutions from Ti-Quack. The jewel zaps them with an “aura-monster” that puts both groups into a deep trance. By the time the jewel finishes working its magic, both groups have completely forgotten about the encounter and wander off their separate ways.

"Apparition" by Francis Mao.

Midnight in an alley on South 5th Avenue, and the Turtles are all badgering Don as to what exactly they’re doing there. Don relates his story one last time…

Just after 11 o’clock, Don was heading to the grocery store for April when he bumped into a distressed young man on the run. Only briefly shocked at meeting a giant turtle, the young man had more important things on his mind and hid both himself and Don from a car full of gang thugs that were hunting him. The man introduced himself as Sal Pitela. A local gang, the Daggerlords, had invaded his apartment and taken his wife and children hostage. Sal managed to escape but he feared what might happen to his family if he didn’t get help. He asked Don to meet him outside his apartment on South 5th Avenue at midnight while he tried to get help from the police.

Well, it’s midnight and Sal is a no-show. The Turtles begin discussing what to do when they hear a woman’s scream coming from Sal’s place. They decide to intervene, while Don stays behind and waits for Sal. As his brothers invade the apartment and begin knocking gang-banger heads, Don is approached by the shadowy figure of Sal, appearing from a darkened alleyway. Sal tells Don that he didn’t make it to the police and that it’s up to him to save his family. Don joins his brothers and dispatches with all the thugs.

Mrs. Pitela (thinking the Turtles are wearing weird gang costumes) thanks her saviors, though Don reveals that it was Sal, outside, who was the real hero. Mrs. Pitela conveys shocking and tragic news that it couldn’t have been Sal that Don had talked to a moment ago, as the gang had shot him earlier when he was trying to escape and carted his corpse back to their apartment. Don and the Turtles investigate the bedroom and Don IDs the dead body on the bed as Sal Pitela.

As the cops clean up and the Turtles disappear, Don ponders what exactly it was that he saw in the alley…

"You're in the Army Now" by Bernie Shuman and Danny Shuman.

Lounging around April’s apartment, Leo and Don figure they’re due for a vacation. April suggests they visit her uncle in Trenton and they jump at the chance. Unfortunately, they arrive at the bus depot late and have to chase down their ride. They soon find that they’ve hopped onto the wrong bus, as they’re dropped off at Fort Dix; an army boot camp facility!

Leo and Don try to explain the mix-up to Sgt. Heartbreak, but he figures them for a couple of goldbricks trying to weasel out of their enlistment. He sends them to get their haircuts, uniforms and medical exams and the Turtles reluctantly comply.

4am the next morning, boot camp begins in earnest and Leo and Don are put through the works: 4-mile marches, 20-mile hikes, tear gas chamber, obstacle course, etc. Having trained in ninjutsu their whole lives, they find Heartbreak’s regimen a breeze, but feel he’s being too hard on some of the smaller recruits. Next up is one-on-one with the pugil sticks and Heartbreak challenges any private to take him on. Seeing a chance to get some payback, Don accepts and quickly knocks Heartbreak off his feet. Rather than get upset, however, Heartbreak is impressed. When Lt. Jones calls him in to warn him of a terrorist threat to their post ammo dump, Heartbreak suggests putting his two best recruits, privates “Atello” and “Nardo”, on guard duty.

Leo and Don stand a lonely vigil outside the ammo dump late into the night and, as predicted, a van full of terrorists open fire. The Turtles take cover as the terrorists break into the ammo dump and begin looting the goodies. Don has a bright idea and the Turtles commandeer a nearby tank. Don rolls over the terrorists’ escape van then he and Leo take the villains out with hand-to-hand combat. Heartbreak arrives on the scene and sees that “Nardo” and “Atello” have everything under control. He is so thrilled, he decides to put them up for citation.

Later, April receives a letter from Leo and Don explaining their predicament. Mikey and Raph join her on a trip to Fort Dix to straighten things out. The General gladly offers Leo and Don honorable discharges and the Turtles leave Fort Dix with April and their brothers. Jokingly, Raph and Mike suggest they take their next vacation at Parris Island.

"Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" by John Dowling.

Down in the sewer lair, Raphael callously bursts through a portrait his brothers are painting. As they yell at him, he says that he’s off for Hollywood. Catching a ride on the bumper of a car, he arrives at JFK and snakes aboard an airplane via the landing gear.

A week later, the Turtles lament Raph’s absence during a poker game. Raph, meanwhile, is living it up on the beaches of Hollywood, surrounded by several naïve blondes. He tells them that he is a Testudon alien that has come to Earth to save humanity from the Prodigian shape-changers. In fact, he’s making a movie about it right now in order to warn the world of the alien threat! Raph’s agent, Monty, then swings by and picks him up for a ride to the studio. Monty shows Raph a piece of concept art for the Prodigian villains (shapely alien women) which the art department created to his precise specifications. As Monty and Raph drive off, the two blondes transform into Prodigian alien women. They are disturbed that a Testudon is on Earth and even more disturbed that he suspects their invasion. They decide to accelerate their plans.

During the ride, Raph recalls how when he first arrived in Hollywood, he couldn’t get a job because mutants were passé. He then saw a photo of an anthropomorphic turtle in a newspaper, labeled an “alien”, and decided to use that as a basis for his invasion cover (which landed him a gig with Monty).

Monty and Raph arrive at the studio and find a horde of Prodigians battling a horde of Testudons on the set. Monty tells Raph that the invasion has begun before they could make their movie, while Raph is just shocked that his whole phony story was true. Raph pulls Monty from the path of a Prodigian laser tank and both pile into Monty’s car. Raph drives the car full-speed into the tank, exploding both vehicles (and killing Monty). Still on fire, Raph battles the remaining Prodigians and takes them all down.

The fight over and the Prodigians captured, the Captain of the Testudons thanks Raphael and escorts him back to their spaceship. The Captain explains that the Testudons and the Prodigians have been waging war for all of recorded history. The Prodigians were exiled to Earth in the form of a penal colony, but when the Testudon’s registered anthropomorphic terrapin life similar to their own on the planet, they came back to remove the Prodigians before they could take over. Raph asks how he could have known the whole story when he pitched his script to Monty and the Captain says something about residual psychic energy.

Suddenly, the producer starts shaking his fist at the spaceship, demanding reimbursement for the damage done to his studio. The Testudons then flee and drop Raph off in New York on their way home. They invite Raph to come live with them on their homeworld, but Raph declines.

From Turtlepedia

From this set of stories the two I will remember are “You’re in the army now” and “Apparition”, as they are unique enough to bring new artists. And also because those were the ones I enjoyed the most. The other stories are original and have a unique style as well, but the stories didn’t appeal to me.

I give the issue a score of 7.

[aeniith]

Peoples of Aeniith: The Ríli

The concept of the Ríli people I came up with about 14 years ago (almost half my life agoo--it feels a lot more recent than that, but that's how time works, it seems) while on an extended camping trip with my family in the temperate rainforests of southeastern Alaska. I was in the forest living out of a wall tent with a small woodstove, sleeping on army cots, an hour-long boat ride from the nearest (small) town. Besides working (chopping wood, building structures, or cooking), my options for passtimes were practicing archery and writing and reading. So I spent a lot of time in Aeniith, thinking about what might exist beyond Keta--beyond the Gotevians, Lomi, and the Ei Lands. I wanted to expand and explore Aeniith.  I started thinking past what my childhood and immediate adolescence had produced. I was also learning more and more about linguistics and language typology, and the Rílin language was in part a result of this. I hope you enjoy a small introduction to--and some meandering thoughts about--the Ríli.

~

The Ríli are a humanoid species of Aeniith. They are endemic to the continent of Izoi in Elta (the "eastern" hemisphere of Aeniith), mostly inhabited the central-northern parts of the continent. They are small compared to other humanoids, standing around 4'9"-5'5" (144.5-165cm) on average, with males being a bit taller than females. Their skin is dark to light grey, ranging in tone from bluish to reddish. Females tend to have darker skin than males, and younger Ríli have darker skin than older. For this reason, darker grey skin is considered a sign of youth and therefore of beauty (in most subcultures). Skin color of most Ríli range from ashy white to dark grey, almost black. Ríli evolved in dark forests, and it is for this reason that their children (and younger members) are darker than the older. All Ríli have a stripe of paler skin down their spine and the sides of their neck, known as the pfókala (literally, 'white stripe'). The pfókala on the sides of the neck marks a very physically sensitive part of the body, both with regard to pain and pleasure.

Silin, a Rílin scout. Art by Tara Williams (unit-3992.tumblr.com). 

Hair color can be yellowish gold, light orange, brown, pale grey, or black. What we would consider "blond" hair (strictly speaking) is rather rare, as is dark red hair. Dark red hair, however, is considered beautiful, though only about .05% of the population shows this color naturally.  Hair consistency is usually thick but individual hairs tend to be fine, though they grow in massive amounts. Many Ríli must cut their hair frequently, as it grows fast. Facial and body hair is sparse in both sexes, however, though females have more pubic hair than males. Males have very little chance of obtaining any facial hair until after the age of about 35. Hair and nails grow very fast compared to other species. This results in hairstyles being quite long. But toenails and fingernails have to be cut frequently so that the Ríla is not harmed by their own toes and fingers. Nails of the fingers and toes have a dark tint to them. Dying the nails orange or red is popular for cosmetics reasons. 

The eyes are larger and farther apart than a human's. Eyebrows often extend over into the hair, being of a soft and full type of hair. Eye color can be blue, violet, grey, black, or brown. Golden-yellow and green eyes are also possible, but only about 1 in 300,000 Rili have this. Eyesight is very keen. The rods of the Rílin eye are very sensitive, giving them excellent vision in darker conditions. Ríli can consciously control the dilation of their eyes.

Ríli have a physical “sixth sense” which allows them to sense the neuroelectrical pulses of a living brain. They can sense the presence and relative distance of any type of organism with a central nervous system, and can also distinguish between higher life forms (such as another Ríla or other hominid) and lower life forms (a squirrel or deer). There have been extremely rare cases of Ríli having "telepathic" abilities, or the ability to sense the thoughts of another hominid. These individuals are very few and far between. 

The onset of puberty usually begins around 18 years of age for females and 21 years for males. Gestation lasts for ten months. The hormonal (menstrual) cycles of the Rilin female last typically 15 days. The menstrual period itself thus lasts on average around 3 days. 

 Silin, Rílin scout. Art by Tara Williams (http://unit-3992.tumblr.com/). 

Rili are very physically flexible and agile, due to high levels of collagen in their bodies. About 65% of all Ríli have a slight split in the tip of the tongue.

The sides of the Rílin neck (called the meslí) along a portion of the pfókala are very sensitive

Fingers and toes are often long and tapered with square tips and small nail bases

The stomach has three parts, in order to better digest cellulose in plants

Wiggling and moving the ears is easy

Ríli typically need 9 hours of sleep each night

Rílin metabolism is on average higher than that of humans. For this reason, obesity is relatively rare. Emaciation and unhealthier levels of thinness are more common

Facial features tend to be very fine and sometimes sharp

The pads of the feet (and to a lesser extent the hands) are covered in a thicker gripping skin called samanken. These developed because of the Rili evolution in forested areas; they were originally a tree-dwelling species

The ears taper backwards slightly in a mild point, and often have tufts of hair on the upper ridge

Traditional Rilin culture is based around the principles of harmony, equality, and pacifism. Violence is a very taboo subject, as is conflict, to a lesser extent. The value of equality has led the Rili to have a very egalitarian society and a democratic government. The populace (of the Sunuli) is governed by an elected council of sixty officials that are replaced every five years.

The Flight

The most significant event in recent Rílin history is the military invasion by the Tosi, a warlike people of the Zuna species to the south. The invasion completely reshaped Rílin society, culture and philosophy. Prior to the invasion, the Ríli had no military and their religion and cultural values did not permit them to engage in defensive combat. Some decided to flee northward and hide in the deep, impenetrable forests there. Many of this group also took refuge in underground caverns beneath a mountain nearby; soon constructing subterranean settlements and eventually cities there.

This period of escape is known as The Flight. The Ríli that took refuge came to be known as the Lunauli, or “people of the darkness”. Their religion remained largely intact, but their societal values changed: strict hierarchies began to replace the original egalitarian system. However, many of the Ríli refused to abandon their homeland. They stayed, developed an army and determined to fight the Tosi. The Tosi had a definite military advantage in this situation being brilliant strategists, having massive armies of formidable and highly-trained warriors, and having made many conquests throughout their history of neighboring peoples across Elta. The Ríli, however, had a few natural advantages of their own; their neurology gave them a “sixth sense,” the ability to detect the neuro-electrical pulses of living brains at a distance of up to a kilometer. They also had extensive knowledge of their own territory, which consists largely of deep forests that the Tosi, being largely desert-dwelling people, found difficult to deal with, militarily.

Domestic Lives and Common Personal Values of the Ríli

Work ethic is held in high regard, however, it is generally believed that personal happiness is paramount. The arts and sciences are greatly valued and often taken up as pursuits by amateurs in early and later adulthood. This may be related to the Rílin idea that one’s mind is kept healthiest when it is positively occupied.

The Rílin family unit typically consists of two parents and one or two children. Often the parents have extensive hobbies or personal activities that they pursue apart from their daily occupation, and thus many do not have children immediately upon marriage. Ríli are matrilocal, which means that the male goes to live in the household of the female for some time before the couple have their own household. The family name of a child is usually that of the male, however, this is not always the case. Babies are breastfed until around age four.

Ríli eat four meals per day. The first meal is taken in the morning and often consists of a sauce made from red berries with shredded nuts and seeds, called perut. The second meal is taken around noon. The third meal is taken around 4pm. And the fourth meal is around 9pm. Seaside-dwelling Ríli love to eat steamed sea cucumber with pickled vegetables in a dish they call íshne.

The structure and size of houses depends on whether the family is seaside- or forest-dwelling. Space is more plentiful in the big forests and seaside locations with immediate ocean access are limited, so houses tend to be smaller and more compact, also because it is colder near the northern sea.

Pets are not particularly common, but sometimes small mammals might be kept; typically mice, chipmunks, squirrels, rabbits. Trained birds, such as kestrels and falcons, are also used for hunting.

Perfume is worn by many individuals of varying demographics, but is most commonly worn by women in their mid- to late adulthood.

Cosmetics, however, are generally only worn by young men seeking to attract a mate. Most other people would only wear cosmetics during festivals or parties. Jewelry is common, and worn by everyone. Earrings are the most popular type of jewelry. Often individuals who wear no other jewelry will at the very least wear one earring. Piercing are also not uncommon, especially brow piercing (women sometimes wear a series of small piercings in a line above the eyebrow). Gemstones are mined for use in jewelry as well as currency. Any gemstone or piece of precious metal can be used as currency; these particular pieces are called íka. Garnets, sapphires, turquoise, diamonds, agate, and two Aeniith-specific stones called turí (a translucent brownish-red and very hard gem) and nashím (a soft blue gem) are also popular.

Women sometimes tattoo their feet with curvilinear designs or organic symbols relating to their identity, family, profession, or hobby.

Modern Rili are a fairly rational and not overly superstitious people, but that hasn't completely erased some old superstitions and false assumptions that have existed among the masses throughout their history. Here a few of them:

It was a common superstition that drinking the amniotic fluids of a woman who has recently given birth will increase longevity and health.

It was believed that having two butterflies of the same species land on you was good luck.

It was a superstition that disobeying one's grandmother's financial advice would bring back luck.

Rotten onions were thought to invite bad luck.

It was thought that to get the blood of someone else on one's skin linked one to this person in some way.

It was believed that letting one's baby cry for too long could cause it health problems later in life.

Coffee was believed to cause insanity.

Seeing a turtle was thought to be good luck.

Having a bird land on one's shoulder could either signify god or bad luck: good luck if facing forward, bad luck if it was facing backward.

[iat313-the4thday-blog]

Title: 

The Island

Subtitle: 

Survival Choice 

Sentence Length Short Description:

     Five characters were on a ship and encountered a shipwreck. They came to an uninhabited island. If these five people want to survive on a desert island, they will face many choices and difficulties. The user is the protagonist of the five characters. Through the different choices of the protagonist, these five people will have different endings.

Paragraph Description:

     Five people were on a ship and encountered a shipwreck. They came to an uninhabited island. On this deserted island, they must unite and begin to find ways to survive because no one can come to rescue them.

     Due to the sudden hurricane waves at sea, the unsound boat was knocked over by the waves. When the five people woke up, it was already the morning of the next day. There are no buildings on the island, the sun on the island is particularly glaring. The first person to wake up was the fox, and then he woke up the rabbit, the sheep, the dog, the pig lying on the beach. Only five of them survived from the shipwreck.

     Looking at the bodies on the beach, they began to find ways to survive on the island. The fox proposes to find useful materials in the wreckage of the ship, such as food or every day using materials. The five of them walked to the ship. After searching, they found a lot of clothes, but most of the food has been soaked in seawater, leaving only canned and vacuum-packed compressed food. These foods are only able to sustain their five-day life for five people. Among the five people, there is only one woman(rabbit), and the rest are men. The fox proposes to find some wooden sticks that can be used for tents. because they don't even have a place to sleep. After a long day of hard work, they set up a tent. When night falls, there is no light on the island, it is scary and cold. After a day of hard work, The fox, the rabbit, the sheep, the dog slept very well. At this time, the pig was woken up by a voice, a kind of voice he had never heard before, like a low-pitched voice, also like a whisper by the ear. The pig was scared by this sound for a night, he was afraid that there would be a kind of creatures to attack them when they fell asleep. The next morning, the fox got up early. the pig told him about the sound she heard in the middle of the night. The fox decided not to sleep tonight to find out. The night falls again, the fox and the pig sat on the beach, and they agreed to listen to this strange sound without going to sleep tonight. It may be because of the tiredness of the day, the fox and the pig fell asleep at the same time. The fox suddenly awakened, he heard a strange voice, as pig said a strange sound. The next morning, the fox and the pig told the rabbit, the sheep about this thing. They decided to go to the forest to find this sound. After a discussion, the rabbit, the sheep felt that they should also guard their hard-won food, so they decided to stay where they were. At this time, the protagonist the dog has to make a choice. Does he want to follow the fox and the pig to explore:

     Case 1: Dog decided to follow the fox and the pig to explore, he felt that they should look for some new resources. They went to the depths of the forest. What they thought was different, the depths of the forest were not as terrible as they thought. The forest seemed to have been taken care of. The trees were very lush and arranged very neatly. There are also ornamental flowers in the forest. They realized that they might not be the only living people on the island. They went on and walked through a very crowded path where they saw a castle. They were shocked by the sights in front of them, which looked like a tribe, and there were people outside the gate who were dedicated to the gatekeeper. They look like local people. When they want to leave this place, the standing guards pointed at them with their weapons and asking them to come forward. After searching their body, the food on them was taken away, along with the guardian, they walked into the house. They are aboriginal people who lived on this island. Because they have been met outsiders, they can speak a little English. After some inquiries, they know that these people have lived on this island for many years. After the three people the fox, the pig, and the dog clearly expressed their purpose, the aborigines said they could help them. These three people decided to call the rabbit and the sheep at the seaside to accept the help of the local people. 

     Case 2: The fox and the pig are going to go to the other side of the island to find some resources, they want to explore where the sound is coming from. The fox and the pig ask the dog if he wants to go with them, the dog decides to stay on the beach and wait for rescue with the rabbit and the sheep, the dog, the rabbit, and the sheep are preparing to move in the direction of the ship again, and they are going to find out if there are any resources available. After getting on the boat, they found that there were a lot of tables and chairs in the boat, and the boat looked like they were turned over. They just felt weird and saw the figure standing in the boat. There are nearly 20 aboriginal people standing on the boat. The rabbit and the sheep and the dog were shocked, they were caught up by the aboriginal people. After going through a forest, they saw a castle, and there were people standing outside. Outside the room in the hobby, they saw the pig and the fox. It turned out that after entering the forest, the fox and the pig crossed a bush and they also found the residence of this aboriginal people. 

     In case 1 and case 2: the rabbit, the sheep, the dog, the pig, and the fox five people reunited. They started to live in the castle. After the rabbit and the sheep came to the castle again, they always felt that these indigenous people were somewhat unscrupulous. They always observe them secretly, and there are always Aboriginal people who follow them 24 hours a day. For these problems, the fox and the pig do not care at all, the rabbit and the sheep tell the dog about these problems. In this case, the dog faces both options: 

     Case 1: the dog Choose to go with the sheep and the rabbit, escape the place where the Aboriginal people are stationed, and never come back. They have to go back to the beach and wait for the rescue of the rescue team. 

     Case 2: the dog chooses to stay with the fox and the pig. After they left, the three of them found that the indigenous people were more and more anxious. They were given food that they couldn’t finish every day, and they didn’t let them do anything. They were only responsible for eating and drinking. After half a month, the fox, the pig, and the dog found that they were cannibals and were eaten by people of this nation.

Medium and Platform:

Visual Novel & Choice Driven Game on PC

Genre:

Adventure / Violent

Interactivity: 

     The player starts the comprehend the storyline and keep following the multi-paths we are offering on the PC platform. We would create the background and character illustrations, then to insert the graphics into Renpy (visual novel engine).  

Interaction Design:

     The audience would use mouse manipulations to navigate through the whole story that we created fluently. During the game, there would be multiple times that the player needs to make a decision. For example, there would be small decisions/missions such as eat a mushroom or go hunting for meat that would affect the characters’ state, yet it would not change the path of the storyline. There are a mini-games they need to complete for the missions, which is to use the keyboard (UP, DOWN, LEFT and RIGHT) to control the character to stand upright or squat or jump forward in a steady pace. In addition, there would also be significant decision making for the player that would lead to different paths of the storyline. For instance, the player needs to decide whether go to explore the island or stay near the beach for rescue.

Sound Design:

     Since the genre of our game is the adventure and violent game, we will find relevant sound effects and background music online. At the same time, we will also be associated with the sound effect when the player clicks on the option.

Motivation Design:

     The key to the game is the choices made by the player. The player making different choices will trigger different storylines which can lead to the different outcomes of the game: escape from the desert island or die on the island. Among them, we will design some mission that can affect the speed which the player enters the next level (choices).

Locations Concept Sketches:

1.  Sherwood Forest

2.  The “Lost” Beach

3. The Native people’s Castle

Character Concept Sketches:

Name: Dog

Introduction: 

     A newcomer who has entered the workplace. He had a goal of the struggle and has become a key player in the company. He is a smart and humble person. One of the five people who survived from the shipwreck drifted to an isolated island and lost contact with the outside world. He believes that friendship is very important. He has the ability to analyze and solve problems on its own.

Expertise: 

     Good at analyzing problems and making own choices. Because of his youth and strength, he also has the ability to find food and resources on the island.

Name: Pig

Introduction: 

     He is quiet and timid in this group. He is more dependent on friends and tends to follow the strong. However, his desires and darkness gradually unfolded when it comes to friends and interests.

Expertise: 

     Lazy, like to eat. Smart, he invents many convenient tools to live on the island.

Name: Fox

Introduction: 

     The elite of the old gangster is about 40 years old. He is very self-sufficient, and even after falling to the desert island, he always feels different from others. Is a veritable savvy person, and has established his own team for personal gain.

Expertise:

     Because of his rich experience and management skills, he organized other people well in the early days of the island. Encourage others to find ways to survive. But once he came across the issue of interest he will betray others for his own good. 

Name: Rabbit

Introduction: 

     As the only surviving woman in a shipwreck, she is smart and calm. Face the choice to have her own standards and choices. Because she broke up with her boyfriend, she decided to go out to travel and encountered a shipwreck.

Expertise: 

     Because of the clever and calm personality, there is a better ability to observe. The ability to observe details that others can't see points out the problem, but she is indecisive.

Name: Sheep

Introduction: 

     A student in the engineering department is a young man who has just stepped into the society. He travels with friends and dogs and trusts his friends.

Expertise: 

     Because the profession is an engineer, he can make tools for the invention of pigs. It is the most survivor of the ability to live independently.

Perspective:

     The user would play as a character in the story. We would use the Visual novel style to place the character in our interface.

[edoubt]

emerging

Here are some ways the Universe appears to be "talking" directly to me. i have no memory that is conscious about exactly when Katie Mottram's book _Mend the Gap_ first came to my attention. But sometime (in mid 2018, possibly quite a bit earlier) i must have read something on-line that caught my attention and caused me to add it to my "to-get" list of books that is ever lengthening (but i still manage to chip away at (enjoying the hell out of the process of reading about all sorts of interesting (to me) topics) over time). In late November or early December of 2018, my adult kids shared their Xmas lists with their aunt, uncle, my wife Michelle, each other and me. For reasons i still don't understand, i chose to jump in and interject my own "request" for a handful of books that i selected from my 'list' that i desired to possess. _Mend the Gap_ was among the half dozen or so that i submitted to my close family members at that time. Presents are opened Xmas eve (traditionally in my wife's family) at my parents' in law's place, just a few miles from our own home. This year was no different. Upon opening presents, i discovered that my sister in law Anna, her husband and my neice had gifted me _Mend the Gap_ and as i read the covers and promotional material on the first few pages while everyone was continuing to open presents, i became greatly excited. You see, i had had my own history of mental health issues, seemingly "started" by my mother's death in a car crash, which happened in April of 2009 (on a Thursday). As the rest of 2009 wore on, i became more and more dissassociated from consensual reality. Until now, i had thought that this was a road to delusional thinking. But what i experienced at that time felt more real than anything i had previously ever experienced in my life, though in hindsight at least some of what i thought and believed was in fact truly delusional. In late November of that year, things came to a head following 4 days during which i only managed to get a total of 2 hours of sleep or so (and prior to that i was also sleeping infrequently as insomnia became a bigger and bigger issue for me). At some later point, i may share more details about my story and all of my "delusions" but for right now, the main point is that i ended up in the hospital (my ride there taking place handcuffed to a gurney of an ambulance, a truly surreal experience for me, as it felt like i was in a movie when i 'woke up' and looked up at the ambulance personnel and a state police officer all trying to prevent me from hurting myself further (i had been 'medicated' at home in my bed after my father in law talked me into dropping the electric bass i was holding at the time to block the view out the window where i'd placed a computer in my back yard near a fallen tree -- i was under the impression at that time that the Universe was in danger and that without my active engagement and participation, everything would end up in an even more terrible mess than things seemed to be heading towards already -- as a result i had broken out my bedroom window and climbed in and out of it several times (cutting my left elbow pretty severely))).

In 2011 a young relative of mine, Joseph Alan Kennedy, was killed in combat in Helmand Province Afghanistan. i felt tremendously guilty because prior to that time, his mother (my cousin in law on my mother's side of my family) had asked everyone to pray for Joe and i hadn't (except for the fall of 2009, i've been an avowed atheist/agnostic my entire adult life). That event, combined with some other life circumstances, had me very close to 'falling down the rabbit hole' of insanity again. Thanks to the psychiatrist, Dr. Laurence Schweitzer, who'd been on call at the hospital where i was transported in November of 2009, and with whom i'd begun to develop a trusting relationship under his subsequent care, i managed to get through the spring of 2011 and following summer without another hospitalization. Nevertheless i felt in extreme distress and needed heavy medication to get through that period of time -- both anti-psychotics and sleeping aids.

In December of 2013, i had cut down my antipsychotic dose to a miniscule level. Dr. Schweitzer advised me at the time to just stop taking this medicine (haloperidol) completely. And so that's what i did. And i managed without it for several months. But in the spring of 2014, i disregarded Dr. Schweitzer's advice to not engage further with my grief over my dead mother. Which led to another psychotic break in early June immediately following a week-long work trip to Cleveland OH during which i swam in Lake Erie every morning. i ended up as an inpatient at the Four Winds facility in Katonah NY for three days right after my 49th birthday.

i no longer believe i'm in danger of another psychotic break. i don't hear voices, but especially over the last week following my reading of _Mend the Gap_ i have a stong feeling that everything happens "as it is supposed to". i don't know for sure what the future will bring, but i'm pretty sure that i will end up a more spiritual being than i ever would have imagined was possible. i have a stong affinity for science, which has not diminished, but i find myself now believing that there is a lot that science doesn't yet explain.

i have recently had Kazimierz Dąbrowski's theory of positive disintegration brought to my attention and have read a bit about it just in the past month or so. i'm not sure exactly where i'm at with regard to this paradigm, but my suspicion is that i'm either experiencing multi-level disintegration, or perhaps even beginning secondary integration. There are other possible "names" for this transformational process: Stanislov Grof referred to it as spriritual emergence; others might label it a Kundalini awakening. Whatever the nature of my transition, it is incredibly profound.

i care deeply about humanity and the planet and the current trajectory we 7 billion + are on scares the hell out of me. i'm not sure how any truly sane person can cope with the existential threats posed by environmental and ecological destruction, and the awfulness of various political strife between different nations, factions and other groupings of persons.

Saving the planet and honoring the Universe fully is imperative. i frankly don't have a clue how to solve such an enormous problem in terms of the specific details. But thanks to Katie Mottram, Eben Alexander IV, Karen Newell and a large number of other authors i've read and also to the many loving friends i've had and the processing/thinking we've done together, i'm convinced that the best way to proceed is to find like-minded folk and combine our energies in order to try to accomplish what seems ultimately to be an impossible task from where i sit near the east coast of the north american continent on Spaceship Earth.

Contradiction is inherent. Practically everywhere. In _Active Hope: How to Face the Mess We're in without Going Crazy_, Joanna Macy & Chris Johnstone advocate adopting the 'hero's journey' paradigm for one's own life, while in _Small Arcs of Larger Circles: framing through other patterns_ Nora Bateson makes a compelling case that 'leadership' is an idea whose time has come and gone due to what we understand about how much everything and everyone is interrelated. While these two thoughts are seemingly at odds with each other, the fact is that they are (at least as i see it) completely reconcilable. Heroes of story, fable and myth all have one thing in common: none of them accomplished their initially seemingly insurmountable goals alone. Universally they assembled bands of varying sizes to aid them in their quest. Bateson makes the point that every famous 'leader' from history or the present was and is not an island, but rather came to be the person they matured into due to the influences of some combination of their communities, families, upbringing, peers, environment and the world itself.

Even the very concept of hope itself is fraught with contradictions. Charlotte Joko Beck, in her book _Everyday Zen_ makes a strong case for "discarding hope" and doing without it completely. And yet Macy and Johnstone put the word in the title of their book on coping. i think the key is the modifier "active" they preceded it with. Passive hope is nothing to strive for or try to use in any way. But by *activating* hope we can overrule Joko Beck's advice, creating a useful tool in the process.

When i was five years old, my parents moved our family from New York City up into the Catskill Mountains of upstate New York. Our nearest real neighbor was more than a mile away from my house, and so i spent a tremendous amount of my childhood out in nature, often accompanied by my beloved viszla Czela. Exploring and fishing and living on a farm, helping out with chores as i got older and being in the woods every fall with the adults for white-tail deer hunting season gave me a lasting understanding of the natural order and interlocking cycles of life. When i was slightly older i became involved in scouting and went on camping trips regularly at all times of the year. i came to appreciate the power and majesty of the seasons as especially winter in these latitudes can be a thoroughly awesome and humbling force. For several years in a row, i also spent a full month each August at Camp Merrowvista in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, where i further developed my love of and connection with nature and wilderness.

During my adult life i gradually fell out of the habit of escaping back into the wilderness. Though in recent years as i've struggled with my mental health, i've been drawn back to nature and have done more hiking, paddling and swimming out under the open skies, which has proved to be as much of a healing force as anything else.

On the morning of the final day of 2018, i was up ridiculously early sitting beside a roaring oak fire i'd made in my back yard. While it was still dark, i set off for the trailhead right where the road closes for the winter which provides access on the "back side" up in the hills between Bear and Race Mountains. i left my vehicle just at first light and while the ground was clear down in the valley and at my home, the surface of the earth was covered with snow up there at elevation. Descending down into Sage's Ravine proper, which is one of my favorite spots on the planet, a wonderful section of the marvelous Appalachian Trail, i found myself profoundly touched by the almost overwhelming beauty around me. The environment spoke directly to my soul and provided me with a calm that was previously inaccessible. As i listened to the Universe talk through the trees, rocks, rushing water, moss, snow and even my own being, i had the sudden realization that my previous bouts with manic states had become part of my past and would no longer intrude on my future. i could feel and almost catch glimpses of entities in amongst the forest and stream. i didn't and still don't completely understand what i experienced, but i see it as an important milestone on my journey to becoming a more stable, able and authentic person. My soul feels day by day that it's getting more and more in tune with the Universe as my purpose here on this planet becomes clearer and clearer. It's still a struggle dealing with so much more unfiltered input with regard to my newly opened perceptions, but i have faith that i'll gradually become more accustomed to the full force of true reality making itself directly available to me in this way.

i've always been drawn to music. Once upon a time i was a competent trumpet player. And nowadays (just in order to amuse, calm and please only myself) i sometimes noodle around on a bass guitar. But the music of others really speaks to me. i can hear and feel the Universe giving me explicit advice through song lyrics:

Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose i gotta be cool, relax None but ourselves can free our minds

The timing of when i hear specific songs has been directing me with advice that seems so obviously tailored to my internal state at that particular time. It's hard to explain, but it's very real and resonant, and gives me confidence that the Universe is actually explicitly guiding me. With love and compassion towards a better instantiation of myself. Even melody, harmony and rhythm speak directly to my soul and i think always have. It's an experience that i'm not really able to explain properly with prose, though none the less real for that.

Let's make this world a better place together.

While the name(s) below that i'm signing these thoughts with are as real for me as any i've ever used, i'm choosing not to put the names that were given me by my parents here. I'm absolutely interested in making contact with any and all of you who've ever wondered if there isn't more that could be done to improve the fate of humanity, the environment, the planet and the Universe. Send me an email at ernstdoubt25@gmail.com or contact me via instagram where i use the handle calloquillick

  namaste, and endless love to all,       ~earnest 'bearfoot' doubt

[strahd-von-asthmavich]

The Dread Lands of Ravenloft - Mod Van Richten’s New England In-Table Campaign [Session 1]

Session 0

I was excited to share the introduction of this newest campaign I’ve begun. I’ve also started construction on a fandom wiki, where I will make my ideas and concepts for the setting of Ravenloft, supplemental changes I made to Curse of Strahd and NPCs, and all the shenanigans and conquests my players get up to. I hope you all continue to enjoy their adventures in Ravenloft!

Side note: Any art that I share of NPCs within these highlight posts is my (Mod Van Richten) original and fan art. Any art that I use for my players that wasn’t created by myself but by other artists online is kept private and within our friend circle. We don’t repost art in this house.

Abrascus Barbarian (3) Path of the Ancestral Guardian Race: Tortle Background: Haunted One

Direthorn Rogue (3) Swashbuckler Race: Drow Background: Urchin

Flopsy Barbarian (3) Path of Wild Magic Race: Rabbit Man Background: Experiment

Mangus Monk (3) Way of the Open Hand Race: Half Elf Background: Urchin

Neracahne Wizard (3) School of Evocation Race: Eladrin Background: Noble

Nyra Rogue (3) Phantom Race: Fairy Background: Noble

Here come their adventures from this session under the cut:

After the revelation of the two letters being from different people, they decide that they’re going to continue forward. They arrive at the Village of Barovia within an hour. Stanimir leaves them with one last piece of advice: If they’re in trouble, they should seek out Madam Eva at Tser Pool, a Seer who’s known for helping people in need of guidance.

Direthorn insists that Flopsy should go to the door of the largest house in the village, which they quickly find out is the Burgomaster’s mansion. Awaiting should be Kolyan Indirovich, like in the letter. Flopsy nearly breaks down the door however, and alerts not Kolyan, but his son, Ismark Kolyanovich.

The party gives Ismark the first letter that they received from Arrigal, to which Ismark is confused. The signature is not his father’s, and the wax seal is the Von Zarovich crest. They show the second letter and confirm to them that this one was actually written by his father. When they ask where he is, Ismark tells them that Kolyan had died three days ago of a stroke. He also tells them that Ireena is his sister, and she soon comes downstairs to see what the commotion is about.

Ireena is a beautiful young woman with deep red hair and green eyes. She appears to be fine and in good health. She does tell them, however, that she did get bitten. She was bitten a day before their father died.

Kolyan’s coffin has been in the study this whole time, and everyone in the adventuring party insists that they go and transport the body to the church as soon as possible. Flopsy was able to take the coffin there all on his own, and the villagers merely look on from their houses as the procession unfolds. On the way to the church, they meet a young noble from the town of Vallaki named Vasili von Holtz. He’d just so happened to be coming to visit Ireena and Ismark, since the funeral was originally planned for the next day. Ireena is enamored with Vasili, the two of them showing mutual interest in one another. In fact, Ireena was very excited that he was here.

Vasili discusses with the party members out of earshot from the other nobles that he’s worried about Ireena’s safety. He doesn’t feel that Ismark is a good guardian for her, and she’s tried to run away from home before. Vasili had to save her from wolves, because she didn’t know how to fend for herself properly.

At the church, everything seems to be in disrepair. The front of the church is covered with old burn marks and claw marks. The pews inside are all broken into shards. The air is tense. As everyone is waiting for the priest to get the rites for the funeral ready, Nyra notices crying coming from the undercroft. The priest, named Father Donavich, seemed like he was hiding something. So, Nyra and Direthorn sneak off with Ireena to check it out. They find that one of the room closest to the front door has a trap door inside that was chained shut.

Meanwhile, Flopsy attempts to intimidate Donavich into telling him what’s going on. Although he didn’t come across as intimidating as he’d wanted, Donavich insists that he’s just trying to take care of his son, Doru. However, the ruse is up when Neracahne alerts Donavich by causing some of the floorboards to creak while she attempted to follow Nyra and Direthorn. That’s when everyone can hear Doru yelling for Nyra, Direthorn, and Ireena to come downstairs because he’s “so starving” and is sick of his father taunting him with potential food.

Doru is a vampire, albeit a weak one. Everyone manages to quickly dispatch him, with some notable highlights: Abrascus gets Flopsy to throw him through the floor to get down to the undercroft quickly. Flopsy bashes Doru’s head in, and that seems to do the job. Father Donavich is understandably distraught and insists that they need to pay for the damages done to the floorboards.

The funeral soon takes place, now symbolically for two people instead of just Kolyan. During the ceremony, they are visted by two dark-skinned elves. One of them, who’s feared by the Barovians, is named Rahadin, Chamberlain of Castle Ravenloft.

His younger companion is named Iulian. Rahadin delivers a proclamation from Strahd von Zarovich himself.

Transcription: By Order of the Count, Ismark Kolyanovich, your father, Kolyan Indirovich, Burgomaster of the Barovian Village, has committed treason of the most heinous of sorts in the Valley. His death means the punishment shall fall on the current Burgomaster. For your father’s crimes against the Count, you are hereby removed from your position as Burgomaster. Henceforth, your bloodline will not hold any power within the Valley. You are to remove yourself from your position and your manor. The Count himself has appointed a new Burgomaster, their rule effective immediately. You have three hours to gather your belongings and vacate your premises. Shelter will not be provided for you. Heed the Valley with caution. Direct Orders from the Ancient and the Land of Barovia Himself, Count Strahd von Zarovich

The adventurers attempt to challenge Rahadin, but he quickly shoots them down and tells Direthorn in particular to mind their own business. When Direthorn talks back to him, they’re suddenly dealt with an onslaught of screams that currently only they can hear. All the while, Iulian seems interested in them and wants to know their name before he’s quickly told by Rahadin that they’re leaving.

Ismark and Ireena are distraught over being evicted, and they only bring with them the equipment that they can carry. Vasili suggests to them that they all should travel to Vllaki to stay in his home, which is the nearest town yet pretty far away on foot. They manage to convince Vasili that they’ll only take Ireena there if they have transportation. He’ll have a wagon for them the next day.

After Vasili leaves to take care of that, they go to the tavern and stay the night. Ismark’s abilities are a little bit more established, when the adventurers find out that he’s a bard that knows healing spells. His spellcasting focus is his balalaika. While at the tavern, it is revealed that in Barovia, the values of gold and silver are swapped, with silver holding more value because of lycanthropy being so prevalent. The distribution of wealth is a little strange for them now.

The adventures are suspicious of the way Ireena and Ismark have been acting now that their father is dead. Some of them notice that the two siblings don’t even seem sad about it. They get Ireena to drink some wine, and Ismark had four pitchers on his own, in order for them to talk.

During this, Ireena admits to being a little upset with Direthorn that they didn’t let her fight in the undercroft. She insists that she knows how to use a rapier and is well versed in combat training. They don’t entirely believe her, but she challenges them to a friendly duel. Although Direthorn wins, they see that Ireena can indeed hold her own rather well, so they agree to let her join in on the next fight.

When asked about their father, Ireena reveals that Kolyan wasn’t exactly a kindhearted man. She implies that Ismark’s alcoholism and Kolyan’s disdain for him is linked to something that happened ten years ago. The Village calls him “The Lesser,” after their eldest brother, Frederich Kolyanovich, was among the men that died in a hunting party. The others that died were named Kristofor, Lazlo, and Hans (late brother of the local shopkeeper). They all blamed Ismark for the catastrophe, because one of the survivors called him lazy. Ismark angrily tells the adventurers as the story is told that it was a lie. The truth was that the wolves that attacked them came from the area that Hans was supposed to keep watch at, for Ismark didn’t see anything in his section of the perimeter. Of course, no one in the village believes him.

The next morning, there’s a wagon waiting for them from Vasili. Before they leave, they grab some free breakfast from a lovely older woman named Granny. She sells pies to the villagers, and every newcomer gets their first pie for free. Everyone except Ismark gets one, and they buy Ireena one after she tells them that her father never let her have pie.

The man Vasili sent to drive the wagon is a man named Escher von Precious. This blonde gentleman has two different colored eyes, the one with the white pupil being a fake eye. He tells them that the blind eye was caused by what he calls a “run-in with a ghast.”

The session ends as they all leave the Village of Barovia and head for Vallaki. An interesting thing about Escher is that when he’s introduced to the adventuring party, he seems to give Neracahne a smile, something that he doesn’t give to the others.

[wildlyhardphilosopher-blog]

Dog Behaviorist Near Me | Step by Step Here

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Dog Behaviorist Near Me | Step by Step Here

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[dorothyd89]

Staci’s dog has been dognapped! (No, not really.)

Team NF Member Staci’s dog Madi has been dognapped!

(Okay not really. Don’t worry, Madi is okay!)

But in the alternate reality world of Rising Heroes, poor Madi has been kidnapped by a nefarious shadow organization in retaliation for over 2,500 rebels working together last month to track down and capture a hacker operative with ties to the organization.

Alternate reality world? Rising Heroes? Hackers? Madi?

Steve, WTF are you babbling about? I’m lost.

Okay sorry, let me start back at the beginning.

Last month, as I’m sure you heard, Nerd Fitness launched a completely new platform called Rising Heroes, which is our attempt to make ongoing habit-building and self-improvement into a fun, captivating adventure.

Thousands of people joined Rising Heroes in early January. They were onboarded and recruited by one of four factions and immediately began working together to track down and capture a hacker by completing real world daily and weekly missions around a variety of self-improvement topics and categories.

They solved puzzles, found their wingman for accountability, and decoded intercepted, encrypted messages in their hunt to capture the hacker. They walked over a half million miles combined, while also working on better morning routines, healthy cooking alternatives, social missions and personal development throughout the month.

As a member of the broader Nerd Fitness Rebellion, I wanted to give you an update on how this first month went, what we have in store for Month 2, and whether or not Rising Heroes is something that interests you. And I want to leave you with some of the core reasons why it’s working for over 2,500 Rebels and how you can build those benefits into your own system.

To start, let me share an image with from the “Michigan Rebel Squad” a self-formed accountability group of a few guys inside of Rising Heroes. I literally burst out laughing when I read it.

“Lynn… we’re grown as men tracking a fiction hacker by walking in the snow. No need to explain your use of imagination to us.”

HAHA, well said Kenny. Well said.

I realize that for many people, the concept of walking every day trying to hunt down an imaginary hacker is silly. “Why in the world would I do that. It’s freakin’ cold outside. I’m not going to do these small daily and weekly missions just because you make up some story and give me points, Steve?”

That’s fine! If you have a system that’s working for you. Do that! Keep up the progress!

But here’s the thing: This is so much freakin’ fun if you let it be!

What we’ve seen over the last month is the far majority of 2,500+ Rebels really get into and embrace the adventure, the story, and the daily and weekly missions designed to slowly build better habits and level up their lives.

They nerded out, they formed accountability groups, and they used the point system and the deadlines as EXTRA motivation even when they didn’t want to do it… they did it anyway!

Stefanie’s comment reminded me of a survey we had sent out late last year where we got over 10,000 responses from nerds around the globe.

We asked people whether or not they HAD found sustainable change in the last few years. If they hadn’t yet found the habit-changes they wanted, we asked why. And if they HAD had lasting changes and success we asked them HOW.

Most people who have failed to change their lives had cited a lack of motivation, a lack of support, and a lack of time to get things done.

Those who succeeded, however, despite have the same struggles and baggage and busy schedules as those who failed, did things differently:

URGENCY: We all say we’re going to do something, and then we don’t do it unless we absolutely HAVE to. It’s why we always waited til the last minute to write term papers in high school, why we pay our taxes at 11:59pm on April 15th.

When you say you’re going to do something, without a deadline it makes it easy to justify why you can skip it. With a real deadline associated with a goal you’re trying to accomplish, you’re infinitely more likely to do… if there’s accountability associated with the results.

ACCOUNTABILITY: What happens when you skip a workout, don’t work on your book, or miss your training run for your 5k? If it’s left up to you, probably nothing! It’s too easy to skip the things you want to do that require a little willpower. This is why the people who succeed have built accountability into their lives. They know that if they skip their workout they’ll miss out on something, or if they don’t take a certain action it would have consequences. At the same time, completing goals was a positive outcome and thus resulted in a ‘reward’ of sorts for them. This moved the accountability outside of just themselves

SUPPORT: The journey to a healthier life can be a long and lonely one. We often find readers of Nerd Fitness (and members of the team) hide their nerdy pursuits from the world… and once they start the journey to live a healthier life, end up hiding their fitness pursuits from their nerdy friends. We are going to have good days and bad. We are going to have moments when we want to give up. We have things we use to rationalize inaction. Those who succeed have a good group people around them to keep them on target. Always ready to respawn.

Knowing how important those three things were to long-term, sustainable success and an upgraded life, we created Rising Heroes.

And I’m really proud of what we created.

I’m proud because the URGENCY, ACCOUNTABILITY, and SUPPORT are really working for people. Slowly, but surely people are seeing real results – while having a lot of fun.

Here’s a few of the people crushing the habit change aspects:

We’ve also seen some very measurable results in weight loss and overall health activity:

Note: Rising Heroes cannot guarantee that you will get ENGAGED during an actual real world mission during the adventure. Despite that, we are so excited for Cal and her new fiancee! 🙂

With Rising Heroes, fitness and health plays a large role, but is only part of leveling up your life:

“Personal victories aren’t always measured in inches or pounds.”

Again, well said, Nicole.

In Rising Heroes, every recruit has to pick a non-fitness specialization that they will devote time and expertise to on an ongoing basis. We’ve had people dust of instruments for the first time in year, enroll in new classes, start back up childhood passions, and picking up new languages and skills.

With our new missions setting up Month 2, many Rebels are turning a spotlight on their finances, their mobility, their morning routines, and their daily physical activity.

And all this is literally just getting started.

Rising Heroes has turned out to be even more than we could’ve imagined. Thanks completely to thousands of Rebels deciding to buy into the process, tracking their success, and truly joining together to take back control of their lives in every sense of the word.

As Abraham Lincoln once said, “Holy shit! That sounds fun!”

Okay, I don’t know if he actual said that, but he might have!

Anyways, this has been a truly game changing experience for both the Nerd Fitness team and our core group of early adopters that are sticking with it and starting Month Two right now.

As with the first month, we have a small enrollment period where new Rebels can join up and try out Rising Heroes. We shut this off on Thursday of the first week of the new campaigns, so that everyone can move through the rest of the adventure and work together to solve mysteries together at the same time.

Rising Heroes is accepting a few new heroes this week until Thursday at midnight EST.

As with the launch last month, we offering a full 60 day try-it-out guarantee. Come see if this fun structure and style helps you see real changes like others have. If not, email us – no questions asked – we’ll get you completely refunded.

We need help taking on (fictional banking institution) Amego Financial in month two. We aren’t exactly sure how deep this rabbit hole goes, but we are starting RIGHT NOW on the inside with missions to #savemadi and research the reach and influence of this new financial institution.

If you are interested in more information, I also recorded a full video walkthrough of inside Rising Heroes using real example from missions and community events from Month One activities.

To get a sneak peek inside the platform, click here and scroll down to the read banner “Steve walks you through the inside of Rising Heroes…”  Super creative naming, I know. It’s the second video on the page about halfway down.

We understand this is an investment and certainly not for everybody, so if this isn’t right for you right now, no worries! We’ll be back to regularly scheduled blog posts on Thursday.

In the meantime though, I have a challenge for YOU regardless:

I want you to take out a piece of paper and write out a plan for 2017.

I want to know three ways you can increase the following, ESPECIALLY if you’ve struggled to stick with your resolutions by now (end of January):

What are real ways you can add urgency and deadlines to your habit-based goals in 2017? Can you schedule calendar updates or reminders? Can you create your own missions for yourself? Can you manufacture urgency to help push you? How?

How can you add another layer of accountability to your current system? Urgency is a great start, but if you aren’t accountable, you’ll just skip the deadline without any consequence. What parts of your life can you tweak today to have slightly more accountability for the deadlines and urgency you’ve brainstormed above?

Lastly, where are you going to go for support? This can overlap with accountability sometimes, but needs to be more well rounded. What will you use to educate yourself? Who will you talk to in moments of weakness? Who will you celebrate with when you hit a streak? There are hundreds of free resources (including most of Nerd Fitness) for you to explore. And it is possible to find and set this up for yourself. How will you do it?

Whether or not you want to try Rising Heroes, I want you to be intentional TODAY about how you will build these three key factors into your own life in 2017.

February can be a tough month for our 2017 goals and ambitions. A lot of people fall off the wagon, but around here we #respawn quickly and get back into the fray.

Let’s keep up the early momentum of January in whatever way works best for you.

We’re here for you!

New YouTube video coming on Thursday around why motivation fails us (and what to use instead), stay tuned!

As you can tell, I’m really proud of this mysterious, goofy, action-oriented adventure we call Rising Heroes. And I appreciate you taking the time to read my giddy Rising Heroes update.

If you want to join us, 2,500+ Rebels and I are waiting for you on the inside. Once you get recruited into your faction, you can start marking off time-sensitive missions immediately. We need all the help we can get, Month Two is going to be crazy.

You have until Thursday at midnight EST to click here and join Rising Heroes for our new February campaign.

-Steve

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