#i might need to try and invert her reds and oranges then work from there

[transingthoseformers]

Yep aaaand now I'm fiddling with SG g1 Firestar's color palette again

[remmushound]

Beyond the Bay Chapter 19, Traximus

Summary: The Turtles meet a dinosaur

Tags: @brightlotusmoon @selfindulgenz @ilo-artistry @unhealthyobsessions101

Content warnings: swears

Bubble, bubble, bubble went the water as it swelled and displaced. Weapons were drawn, and the katana in Leonardo’s hand felt as foreign as if someone had just given him a book in Chinese and instructed him to read it. The handle was smaller than his odachi, and the blade was shorter, and it was thinner, and its weight was lighter, almost nothing. Still, a weapon was a weapon, even if he naturally navigated toward the back of the crowded group to put a wall of muscle between him and whatever was emerging from the cesspool.

There came two curved horns as long as Leonardo’s arm and as thick as Leo’s at the base, curved forward and angled close together. The gap between then formed an almost triangle shape. First came the horns, and then came an apricot head that rivaled the size of a small car, revealing a third smaller horn on the tip of a muzzle just before heavy, meaty flesh parted to a hard, bony beak. The head shook from size to side, a loud whoosh resulting as the broad frill caught the air. Further still the triceraton revealed himself.

His shoulders were as wide as the frill on his head, and he had a torso that could be mistaken for a brick wall. He was clothed in a red and orange regalia that could have once been a beautiful suit but was now stained with waste and ruin, heavy from the submergence. His nostrils flared to blow away the water that still cascaded along his muscular form, his breaths coming in heavy and labored grunts. Donnie couldn’t help but take notice of many wires hanging loosely around the triceratons shoulders, several of them severed or otherwise damaged; what use could they have once served? The options were limitless!

The triceraton didn't charge, but the clan held their ground. Eyes of an impossibly bright emerald sought something among the group; what that something was was anyone’s guess, but it must have been important. Apparently it was Donnie that held what the alien sought, because when his eyes found the box turtle they stopped searching. His head bowed and the turtles once more braced themselves for a charge. The triceraton lifted his arms up to his horns, arching his fingers downward so they formed an inverted triangle; joined with the angling of his horns, a diamond shape was revealed.

“Awaiting… orders… general Mozar.” He sounded as if he had swallowed a cheese grater.

Raph’s confusion disturbed the unyielding stance. “Who?”

All eyes gleaned over at Donnie. The box turtle paled at all the attention suddenly on him, his throat drying and a visible drop of sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Dudes this is so weird…” Mikey breathed.

“Woah!” Despite the many shouts of discouragement and several attempts to stop Michelangelo, the box turtle made his way to the front of the group to oggle the still giant. “How can we understand you?! Is there some super cool alien translation device?!”

“Actually Michael, I think he’s just speaking english.” Donatello commented absently.

“Oh.” Michelangelo deflated, “That’s less fun.”

The giant seemed to tolerate Michelangelo’s presence surprisingly well; that is to say, he didn't immediately try to beat the young turtle into a puddle.

“Should we be concerned that he’s not, you know… pummeling us right now?” Raphael asked, his hands still fixed firmly on his tonfa.

“Don’t let your guard down.” Leo whispered to the group, “He still might.”

“I don’t think he will.” Leonardo said, and his eyes were locked on the dinosaur as if seeing something no one else could.

“Excuse me?” With a hand perched on his hip, Leo addressed Leonardo’s words with scrutiny.

“Donnie.” Leonardo said to the box turtle, “Raise your hand…”

Donnie, though confused, raised his hand. The triceraton lowered his strange salute and raised his hand; Donnie leaned curiously to the side, and the dinosaur leaned to the side. Donnie leaned to the other side, and the dinosaur followed, like a baby mimicking its mother.

“Ooookay, things just got a whole lot weirder.” Mikey whistled.

“Guys, you remember that one really red triceraton?” Donnie asked quickly without removing his eyes from the ten foot giant before him. “The one with the lopsided horns?”

“Yeah, the leader.” Leo said just as quick as Donnie, just as urgent.

Donnie didn't answer verbally, but made a point of motioning to the goggles perched on his head, the lopsided lenses glistening.

“Aaaaand sidebar!” Despite being the smallest of all eight gathered, Leonardo was able to wrap his arms around the other mutants and whisk them to the side while Traximus returned to his unsteady salute. “Okay bros; how we feeling ‘bout this?”

“That dino dude’s acting weird…” Mikey said, and made a point of enunciating the last word,

“Yeah, like Mikey weird.” Raph whistled.

“Hey.” Mikey narrowed his eyes.

“And his gears all busted up.” Donnie reported, “He doesn’t have his mask on anymore for one.”

“And why is he playing some twisted version of Simon Says with Donnie?” Raph’s words came with a sharp scoff.

“Maybe he’s friendly?” Michelangelo offered up.

“Unlikely.” Donatello disagreed.

“Well the robot was nice.” Michelangelo pointed out.

“That is a fair point.” Leonardo nodded and agreed.

“And what’s that meant to be, some kinda salute?” Raph lifted his head from the group to look back at the giant. “An’ why does he think Don’s this ‘Mozar’ or whatever?”

Donatello cleared his throat to call everyone’s attention. “I would like to offer a theory if I may?”

“Yeah, shoot.” Raphael said.

“You mentioned something about a mask.” Donatello said, holding one hand over his mouth and nose to resemble a mask, “Like, a cloth mask or an oxygen mask?”

“Uh, oxygen.” Donnie nodded his confirmation.

“Right.” Donatello nodded, and pointed over at the dinosaur. “I see no oxygen tank. If he had one to begin with, it’s gone now, and yet he’s still up and walking.”

“I… don’t remember any oxygen tank.” Leo shook his head.

“That’s because it probably wasn’t an oxygen mask. Not if all five of your dinosaurs were wearing ‘em in a place where there was quite clearly oxygen. That, my dear friends, is a pattern, not a coincidence. If they all had it, chances are it’s some sort of filter, like they’re meant to be breathing something that’s not our air. And if someone from our planet breathes in something that isn’t oxygen…”

“It kills them?” Leo wasn’t following.

“Yes, and no. How about you?” Donatello pointed at Donnie.

“It can cause… delirium, confusion… hallucinations…” Donnie was following perfectly.

“Who’s to say the effects aren’t the same for someone like him?”

“You’re saying he’s deprived of some type of breathing apparatus?” Donnie’s eyes lit up like the skies on the Fourth of July, “It makes sense!”

“And it would explain the confusion.” Leonardo said.

Leo, wanting desperately to get on to a more important subject, urged, “Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“Yes.” Donatello answered confidently, “But he also thinks dear Donald here is his beloved General Mozar, and we should keep it that way.”

“General…” The dinosaur called,. “Awaiting orders…”

“Uh. At ease?” Donnie offered.

The dinosaur stared at him for the longest time, trying to decipher why his bold and brash commander had spoken so strangely before lowering his arms to his side. Donnie cleared his throat and stepped forward away from the group, trying to make himself as big as possible which wasn’t much of a task for the tree-like turtle.

“Remind me of your name and rank again, soldier.” Donnie’s voice slowly gained more confidence and tone, and the dinosaur seemed to be excited by it.

“Major Traximus of the Ygthian fleet, serving our great and powerful Prime Leader.”

“That’s right.” It felt almost fun being in a position of power, and it quickly went to Donnie’s head. “My command for you, Major Traximus, is to help me escort these… diplomats back to their home.”

“Yes Commander Mozar…” Traximus bowed the immensity of his head. “As you command…”

Though one could expect a beast of such immense proportion to lumber at an awkward gait, it was quite the opposite as Traximus walked with such speed and determination. The turtles parted to allow him plenty of space to pass by them. He was a man— or alien— on a mission that would stop for nothing. Glances were exchanged, followed by ‘what else are we gonna do?’ shrugs and curious excitement as the turtles were quick to keep up with the charging titan.

“How’d he get through anyway?” Raph asked; he was the one now holding Splinter, cradling the rat to his chest and still working absently to dry his fur.

“He was the one chasing us back in our world.” Leo said, “Maybe he got through the rift, ended up in the sewers. Lord knows the time rift had ask of us scattered to the winds.”

“Awesome…” Mikey breathed, followed up with, “I told you he was out here!”

“Yeah…” Both Leo and Raph faltered their steps, “You did…”

They made good time getting back to the lair where Yoshi and April were sat together at the living room coffee table assembling a puzzle; it was one activity that Yoshi didn't need help with, since the pieces were so big and obvious, and the old rat took great pride in each success. April, like her turtle brothers, had grown and matured greatly. She had forgone her usual buns in favor of tight braids clinging to her scalp and cascading to just above her shoulders, and she wore a modest yellow jumpsuit and rubber rain boots, perfect for traversing the wet ick of the sewer. One thing was familiar about her, however, and it was that same green coat she had been wearing since her younger adolescent. April looked up when she heard their approach, the smile turning to her mouth hanging open and her eyes bulging.

“Holy Jurassic Park…”

Leonardo took Splinter from Raph’s arm and immediately whisked him away, leaving Raph with his empty arms still out in a cradle, pouting and desperately pawing at the air that had once been his dad. Donnie parted from the group and tried follow Leonardo to the infirmary, but the red eared slider stopped him.

“I got him; you and the guys take care of our little… guest over there.” And Leonardo motioned to Traximus, who was still and awaiting orders.

“Oh. Right.” Donnie watched Leonardo leave like a distressed puppy watching his owner go to work without him. Seeking some guidance, Donnie turned to his brother. “Leo?”

“Maybe we… get him something to eat?” Leo offered.

“What do dinosaurs eat anyway?” Raph huffed; now without anything to hold, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Nothing that still exists.” Donnie muttered bitterly, and his eyes passed over the orange dinosaur trying to make better sense of the alien presence.

“Well, he is an alien dinosaur.” Michelangelo pointed, “Maybe he eats something different.”

“If it’s alien, it still won’t be on our planet, Michael.” Donatello added.

“Oh.” Michelangelo’s expression deflated.

“But we can still try.” Leo said, arms motioning widely as he called attention to himself, “We need to make his comfortable before we can get anything out of him.”

“Are we sure he even knows anything?” Donatello asked, and he was looking absently at his nails, “Doesn’t look like there’s much happening upstairs.”

It was true that Traximus’ eyes did look remarkably empty, but Donnie wasn’t convinced he was completely gone. The dinosaur could talk, and could obey orders, even if he couldn’t recognize them as not being from his own species. And they had been there for two days now! He didn't know a damn thing about alien triceratops digestion, or how long they could go without food, but he did know a thing or two about empathy. Did this triceraton need food? Maybe. Water? Maybe. Donnie would make sure the creature didn't go without either.

“Major Traximus?”

The triceraton snorted and shook his head as he brought his focus to attention at the call of his commander.

“Would you care to… indulge in… sustenance?” Donnie tried to choose his words carefully, but it was difficult, if not impossible, with knowing next to nothing about who he was meant to be portraying.

Traximus tilted his head to one side, and then the other. “Commander Mozar…?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Donnie gulped, raising his head a little higher and keeping his expression still and serious. With eyes as beady and small as Traximus’, he wasn’t sure the alien could even see him. “You must be hungry soldiers. Follow me to the… dining room and select something to eat.”

Without another word, Donnie turned on his heels and guided the way to the kitchen. Traximus, confusion evident on all of his features, trailed behind with the gaggle of curious turtles following him. They got to the kitchen and he surpassed Donnie, intent on obeying the command and maybe just plain starving as he pulled the fridge door open— more like ripped it off its hinges— and began to dig around inside. The turtles watched in curious awe.

Now that they weren’t in immediate danger of being trampled and crushed by this titan of a creature, it was like they couldn’t stop watching him. Something not human, not yokai, not mutant— something new! You didn't have to be Donnie to see the beauty in this new creature, nor to feel a desperate urge to know more and more about them! Raphael was practically exploding with excitement. He had always wanted to be so close to a dinosaur but now it was happening? He could hardly breathe! The kitchen was barely big enough for them all, but they managed to crowd around in such a way that they all could get a good view of what was happening.

Traximus picked up the gallon of milk first, shaking it a bit and then promptly discarding it. In fact, he discarded all the liquid, tossing drinks behind him and letting them shatter and spill over the floor. Not even Michelangelo cared about the mess made of his precious ingredients— not when it was this beautifully intricate creature doing it! Once all the liquid contents were out of his way, Traximus began a long pattern of selecting food, taking a bite, deciding he didn't like it, and tossing it carelessly. This process continued on until the fridge was almost barren and Michelangelo was finally regretting not intervening sooner. One of the final things left in the fridge, chili peppers, were the next thing Traximus grabbed.

“Wait— maybe you shouldn’t—” Raphael tried a little too late, as Traximus was already shoving a handful into his mouth, stems and seeds and all.

Everyone cringed, even Raph— who had taken on a hot pepper challenge many times again Leo and always somehow lost (he lost because Leo had switched out all of his own peppers for sweet peppers, but Leo would never admit that). They waited for the burn, for the scream, for the desperate scramble to find coolness. Instead, Traximus chomped happily and his mouth began to drool in response to the burning stimuli, his lips curling up as his tongue poked out to lap up all the drool that tried to escape. He dumped the rest of the basket into his mouth and dove back into the fridge in pursuit of more burning delights.

“We have a winner.” Raph said with a satisfied smirk.

Michelangelo’s eyes were firmly fixed on the mess at their feet. “And we have no dinner…”

[queenoftrashgoddessofchaos-blog]

MONSTA X AS WITCHES

All the details about witches are found on this blog. Please note that what I wrote in the story are my own interpretations of witchcraft and therefore has many inaccuracies. Nevertheless, I hope you still enjoy.

SHOWNU Type of Witch: Secular - Non-religious / Not connecting with deity(s) Witchcraft: Elemental - Magick that is worked by honoring/acknowledging the 4 or all 5 elements: Water, Earth, Air, Fire, and Spirit. Commonly an Elementalist will dedicate different areas of their altars to each element, call upon them during spells and rituals, and use symbols to represent each Seasonal - Witches who utilize and draw energy from the specific times of year for their magic, sort of how a person might have a strong love or connection to a certain time of year! This can also be spread out into Winter, Autumn, Spring and Summer witches

Shownu stands in the middle of his backyard with four stones in hand. He places the stone between him and a snow-covered tree and arranges them in an arch. The first stone is a yellow stone engraved with the word fire and an above it, following it is a blue stone engraved with the word water and an inverted triangle above it, next is a dark blue stone engraved with the word earth and an inverted triangle that has another line inside above it,and last is a gray-white stone with the word air on it and the same triangle but not inverted, above it.

It's winter season, which means that the water element is the strongest. But he will try to make the other elements keep up with it; that's his goal for today. He closes his eyes and breathes in and out deeply. He tries to feel the cold winter air and tries to neutralize it in his mind. He does this for a few seconds before slowly opening his eyes. He sees the stones slowly becoming their respective elements. The tree's leaves in front of him change colors between orange and green. He brings his arms forward and brings them closer to each other, the stones following his arm's motion and slowly combining with each other. He hears something at the back of his mind but he dismisses it, not wanting to break his concentration. He hears it again, he wills himself to listen to it while concentrating on the task in front of him. The earth and air combine first. Shownu He recognizes the voice as Hoseok, his blood bond. A blood bond is something a witch do to have a stronger connection with other witches The blood bond allows the two witches to have a more stable magic stability when performing rituals that require one person. It is also something that witches who are close to each other do, a sign of trust and friendship. Shownu Hoseok calls again. The combined earth and air attach itself with the water but not quite combining fully yet, the fire does the same. What is it? I'm at the fort. They're hunting witches. You need to come here now. What? I'll explain later. Shownu heaves a sigh and stops the ritual unceremoniously. The stone elements drop and his whole backyard floods.

WONHO Type of Witch: Hellenic - A form of non-witchcraft practice in which the practitioner follows Greek ideals/culture and honors the Greek pantheon Witchcraft: Storm/Weather - Magick that is worked by combining one’s energy with the energy of the weather, and most commonly rain. Weather witches will do things like collect rain/snow water, absorb the energy of a lightning storm, “whistle up” or manipulate wind, predict the weather, etc. Sea - A type of magick derived from materials and abstract ideas involving the ocean and oceanic world. Sea/Ocean magick can be worked using seashells and bones, sea weed, beach sand, driftwood, ocean water, etc. and a sea witch might draw their energy from that of the sea! 

"Are we back in the middle ages now?" Shownu says as he arrives. "What is going on." Wonho brisk walks to the boat he prepared, Shownu closely following behind. "A word got out about a necromancer. Now the people are hunting this, some other witches too." Necromancy has always been a taboo in the witch's world. No matter what type of witch one is, dealing with the dead is a dangerous thing. The witches only manage to the common people because they managed to convince them that their craft won't harm anyone. They board the boat and Wonho dips his hand in the sea. He murmurs a chant under his breath and the water carries the boat away. "Why are we running away? If that's what we're doing?" Shownu asks. "Because it seems that we really are back in the middle ages. Hunt or be hunted. We both know that neither of us is willing to take part on that." Shownu nods. "Are you not going to ask where we're going?" "Anywhere the sea takes us?" Wonho smiles. It's an expression he'd always use when someone asks things like this. Shownu found it weird at first, "Isn't it 'anywhere the wind will take us'?" He used to say. Wonho still wasn't practicing the witchcraft of weather yet and he always replies, "But I'm a sea witch." But after years of being with Wonho and being blood bonded with him, Shownu got used to it. "Anywhere the sea takes us," Wonho replies. Shownu doesn't say anything after that and Wonho didn't add anymore so a comfortable silence surrounds them. The silence lasts for a few moments until the sound of a motor engine breaks it. They looked at each other, a silent conversation taking place. If they suddenly speed away, it could cause suspicion. The best way is to go as they are and act normal. The motorboat catches up to them as expected. Wonho notes that some of the passengers are bound by the hands, he assumes that they are captured witched. He makes eye contact with one of them, a boy about his age with black hair and plump lips. The boy breaks the eye contact and turns to who seems to be his friend who has white hair. "Oi, what you two up to here huh?" The captain calls out to them. "We were just fishing sir," Wonho answers. "I see no caught fishes there," "Seems like the tides are not in our favor today. Please don't let us bother you, sir," Shownu backs up The captain looks skeptically at them and calls someone over. Wonho and Shownu share a look; they have to be prepared. Wonho draws energy from the sea and transfers it to the sky. He chants inside it his, and one cloud begins to darken. The person that the captain that the captain calls over is a woman. The captain speaks to her briefly and she turns to look at them. Her eyes turn red Wonho recognizes her as a Draconian witch. A witch that works with the nature of dragon, the creature that has the most intelligent and can almost detect and feel anything, including magical energy. Wonho propagates the energy as fast as he can to spread to the entire sky, he can feel the sea being alive too. The woman's eyes return to back to normal and she turns to the captain. Before the captain can do anything, Wonho releases the energy from the sky and a lighting stuck the motorboat followed by a full-blown storm. The sea dances with the violent wind above it and both of the boat capsize. MINHYUK Type of Witch: Hereditary/Blood - Including oneself in the practice of witchcraft on the grounds of having been born into a family who also practices. Knowledge and practice may also be passed down through generations, and honor old ways of magic Witchcraft: Animal - (A variant of Green) Magick that is strongly tied to the animal kingdom, which includes a deep appreciation for all animals, and most often: usage of animal materials in spellwork. An animal witch will most likely be one who loves animals, a person who animals are immediately “drawn” to, and those who appreciate the natural world. Some animal witches might also use bones, wings, feathers, fur, skin, scales, (etc). from deceased animals in their magick, if they choose to do so. Flora - Much like a Green or Garden witch, those who work majorily with floral materials and flowers in their practice and in their spellwork! Their grimoire may be heavily associated with flowers rather than herbs, and likewise, one might use flower properties in spell or craft work.

Minhyuk's magic rarely requires hand movements but being bound makes it hard for him to move, especially underwater. He tries to open his eyes but it was a useless effort. Wonnie? He calls his blood bond. Min? Where are you? Are you okay? I am. I'll try to call some dolphins to get us out of here. Hang in there. I can handle myself but sure. Minhyuk internally smiles, whatever happens to the two of them, they always manage to let this light friendly atmosphere between them. He doesn't have any magic energy left because of the struggle to keep himself together underwater in the last few minutes. He gathers whatever amount of energy he can and tries to reach to the dolphins in the nearest vicinity. He detects a response but judging from the distance, he won't have enough energy to stay conscious by the time they arrive. He's starting to feel his breath slowly running out and his consciousness slipping away. He finally gives in and let himself breathe underwater, expecting water to enter his lungs and suffocate him. He found himself breathing easily, instead. He opens his eyes and sees a bubble of water surrounding him. "Are you okay?" He hears from behind him. He turns around and he came face to face with a man with small eyes and a small plump lips looking at him with concern. "Uh, yeah. Are you the one doing this?" He points to the bubble. "No. Wonho is," the man replies. "Oh uhm, could you help me find my friend? I'm blood bonded with him but I can't reach him to through telekinesis anymore," The man nods and stays silent for a few moments, probably communicating to the aforementioned Wonho. The dolphins came while he was doing so and Minhyuk motions them over. He snuggles them, happy to have some comfort. "My friend is already looking for him. You're an animal witch?" "And a floral. I'm Minhyuk." "Shownu. So I have no idea how to navigate on the sea. Could your dolphins help somehow?" Minhyuk turns to one of the dolphins and asks if they could help them. The dolphin squeaks and swims away. "They're on their way to find them. Tell your friend to follow them. They'll lead them in an island," Shownu nods. The dolphin that remained with the two of them swims away and they follow not far behind When they get to the island, Hyungwon and Wonho aren't there yet. Shownu makes a circular motion with his hand, producing a fire which he uses to cut Minhyuk's binds. Minhyuk thanks him and he turns to the dolphins to also thank them. Minhyuk runs back to the shore to Shownu and creates a circular shape with his hand. A circular arrangement of poppies appears and he gives this to Shownu. "Thank you for helping. I'm sure you're tired. You can use this as a pillow," Minhyuk offers. Shownu smiles. "You need it more. Your magical energy was already running out when I found you and you just used it again. You're the one that's tired. Besides, you said that you couldn't reach your friend so he must be pretty weak right now too. I should stay awake to talk with Wonho," Shownu says. Shownu's tone was so tender and Minhyuk couldn't bear to say no. So he nods and lays on the sand, with the arrangement of poppies as his pillow, he falls asleep. KIHYUN Type of Witch: Traditional - One who practices witchcraft by honoring and using old and ‘traditional’ ways of magick; this type of witch might be one to practice modern methods of magick, but they might also stick to traditional concepts or techniques Witchcraft: Spirit Working - A practice in which the person will perform spellwork in conjunction with or with the help of any manner of spirit. This includes Ouija, (sometimes) demon spirits, spiritual contact, etc. Sigil - A witchcraft working majorly with sigils, and the intent that can be put into them to activate their power

Kihyun was ecstatic when he heard about the necromancer. He had been dedicating most of his life perfecting the ritual that could call the familiar of his ancestor. The familiar was a powerful familiar and now he was a powerful spirit. Kihyun had a hard time summoning it because of this. The summoning of the familiar is a feat that none of the members his clan had ever done since the time of his great mother. He'll be the first one to do in a long time if he manages to get to the necromancer.

He's inside a forest. He clears the ground of leaves then takes out his candle and lights it. He goes around and lets the wax drops so it forms a circle. He goes inside the circle and makes two small circles in the center. He blows out the candle and stands between the two small circles. "Veni foras! Spiritus Patris ordinatores et stratores laguncularum" The leaves swirl upward and disperse to reveal three figures in white. "A member of the Tragaudo clan," one figure said. "He is a young one," another said. "How may we be of service young Tragaudo?" the last one asks. "I'm looking for a witch who practices necromancy." The three figures turn to look at each other, at least that's what Kihyun thinks since he can't really see their eyes. "A practitioner of necromancy?" The second figure said "We will be honored to find him for you," they said in unison. The three of them suddenly disappeared but Kihyun didn't panic. He knows how spirits work and the Tragaudo clan has been an affiliate of spirits for a long time. Their sudden disappearance doesn't mean anything bad. As he expected the spirits come back after a minute. "The necromancer is in the south of this country," the first one said "He is by the lake of the fairy," adds the other. "In a place cursed by many," concludes the last. "Thank you," he says to them. The figures bow to him and they disappear. Katarameni is where the necromancer is. The place was cursed because of the witches that were burned back in the time when the witches and the people were still at war. Nobody ever goes there anymore, not the witches because of their ancestor's horrible experience, nor the people because of the memory of their monstrous nature. "This witch is smart," Kihyun remarks. Kihyun takes out his candle again and draws another circle, a small one this time. He crouches down to draw three triangles inside of it. He blows out his candle and takes out his pen. He draws the same symbol in his palm and hovers it to the one he drew on the ground. "Viator. Venit ad me." A black bull appears in front of him. He bows to it and it bows back. "Take me to Katarameni," The bull huffs, signaling its affirmation. Kihyun rides the bull and it disappears. HYUNGWON Type of Witch: Celtic - Magickal practice that is based on the Celtic culture, including its’ mythology, deities, old ways, and (occasionally) language/symbols. May also describe those who only worship Celtic gods Witchcraft: Astronomy/Space - Those who practice magick and correlate their beliefs in conjunction with the planets and stars! These witches may focus their magic with the properties of each planet, regularly read a horoscope or study astrology, and have a love of the stars and the night. Dream - Mindful and internal magickal practice mainly based on interpreting dreams and/or engaging in lucid dreaming. Those who intensify as this may “de-code” symbols and messages in the dream world similar to how one would use a divination technique.

There is somebody walking around a rundown town that has several burned down houses.  He enters one house and looks around it. He spots something by the corner and goes to pick it up; it's an arm bone. He exits the house and goes somewhere. The scene fades and he is by a lake, he puts the hand bone and several other bones in a bag and dips it the lake. He suddenly turns around and somebody appears from behind the trees. Hyungwon wakes up, disoriented. He gets up slowly and looks around him. He's in a beach. He sees Minhyuk and someone with a gray-blue hair playing around the waters. "You're awake, how are you feeling?" He hears from beside him. He sees a broad tan man which he recognizes from the boat the capsizes theirs. "You're a powerful witch," he says. The man looks at him in confusion. "You manage to control the sea, the whole sea. And even stirred up a storm. That requires a lot of magical energy." The man chuckles, "Oh, that wasn't me. It was Wonho," he points to the man with gray-blue hair. "I just stabilized the water after that. He's the one that brought you here too." "I see." He looks at the two by the shore and Minhyuk sees him, he waves a hand at him. "Wonnie!" Minhyuk starts running full speed towards him, almost tripping halfway. Minhyuk lunges himself at Hyungwon and they both fall back to the sand. "I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU! I THOUGHT I WON'T HAVE SOMEONE TO MAKE FLOWER CROWNS TO ANYMORE!" He starts peppering him with kisses and Hyungwon lightly pushes him away, aware of the eyes looking at them. "Min." Minhyuk sits up and Hyungwon follows. "Well, I'm just glad you're okay now. Meet our new friends. Shownu," he points to the tan man and they nod at each other. "And Wonho," he points to the gray-blue hair man. Hyungwon looks at him. "I heard from Shownu that you brought me here. Thank you," he says to him. Wonho smiles at him and they look at each other for a few moments. "We were both young when I first saw you~" Minhyuk suddenly starts singing. The two of them broke eye contact. Hyungwon hits Minhyuk lightly and Hyungwon thinks he sees Wonho blush. "So what's our plan now? They're gonna be looking for us." Shownu asks. "Let's go to Katarameni," Hyungwon says. All eyes look at him. "The necromancer's there. And somebody already found him," "How did you know?" Wonho asks. "The universe showed me," Silence. "Wonnie's an astronomy and a dream witch," Minhyuk supplies. "And sometimes the universe shows him some things through his dreams." The two of them nods in understanding. "But why should we go there?" "Everybody's looking for the necromancer. Either to use him for something or kill him. Necromancy is a long forgotten witchcraft. For him to be able to master it means he's a very skillful witch and must be very powerful. It would be us against the world but at least we have power," Hyungwon explains. "That's actually true," Shownu says. "But how do we get there?" "It's three days by the sea and ten by land. But both options are too risky. We might get caught," Wonho looks at Shownu, "Can you make us fly?" "I can't, we're too many," "Don't worry, we'll travel through space," Hyungwon says. Hyungwon closes his eyes and looks at the sky. Minhyuk takes Wonho and Shownu's hand. "We're gonna be stars," he says. Before the two of them can say anything, stars begin falling and hits the four of them. JOOHEON Type of Witch: Eclectic - An individual’s practice that has bits and pieces pulled from different magickal and/or spiritual practices, respectfully Witchcraft: “Poison Path” - Working with plants, herbs, other items that may be poisonous, deadly, cause hallucinogenic effects, or affect the mind or body in some way Desert - Using and utilizing the desert environment. Lots of work with hardier plants such as Cacti or Tumbleweeds. Use of the moon, desert earth, fire, rare water (especially rainwater), wind, local plants and herbs, as well as animals/creatures of the desert such as snakes, spiders, scorpions, and so on.

Jooheon sits in the throne room beside his father, listening to a group of witches and locals ask the King for assistance in finding the necromancer.

"That witch can be very dangerous Your Highness. Necromancy deals with the dead. He may raise an army against us." The King seems to think this over and Jooheon rolls his eyes. "Then he already would've done so correct? He's just probably minding his own business, practicing what he likes. No need to persecute him," Jooheon says. "With all due respect my prince, witchcraft isn't just about doing what you like. Some people have an ill intention for practicing this. Like that necromancer." "How would you know this? From the looks of this, it seems like you're the one that has ill intentions," the witch's eyes widen and opens his mouth to speak but Jooheon speaks. "Father. This will cause a lot of damage. The assistance they're asking for is obviously your army. This can cause a lot of casualties." The King looks at Jooheon and back at the locals. "I will think this over," the King finally says. "But Your Highness" "You are dismissed." No one in the group says anything more. The bow to the King and Jooheon and they begrudgingly exit the throne room. Jooheon gets up from his throne to also exit the room but his father stops him. "Jooheon." He turns to his father. "Both of you have a point. But those people have been practicing witchcraft for a long time and came from families of witches. You're new to witchcraft. They know more than you. The necromancer might be dangerous." "You're right. But they don't know anything about ruling and leadership. If you want to rule a kingdom with corpses. Go ahead." Jooheon doesn't let his father say anything after that. Immediately exiting the room and going straight to his room. Jooheon opens his windows and looks down to see the group of locals and witches leave the palace gates. He gets a crystal from his altar and places it on his window pane. "What does the wind hear?" A strong wind enters his room, making the crystal fall inside. He picks it up and takes it to his window again. He lifts it up to make it reflect the sun. He sees some images: witches having a talking amongst themselves, another group of witch performing a ritual, and someone singing to his father. "Oh no," He hears footsteps from outside and someone knocks at his door. He grabs what he can and puts it in a cloth. He opens the door to find his father and the one singing to him earlier. "Jooheon. This beautiful woman has the most beautiful voice. I would like you to hear it too." The woman smiles at him and he smiles back. "I'm afraid I'll have to say no to your manipulation," Jooheon says. He dashes out of his room, storming pass them. He hears his father says a command to this soldier to go after them. He takes a crystal and whispers a chant to it. He throws it to the guards and a sandstorm blows them away. He keeps running and a group of witch corners him. He takes another crystal and chants to it again. A smoke appears and the witches fall down one by one. He manages to get out of the palace and he keeps on running. He enters an abandoned building. He takes another crystal and places it on the ground. "Who does the wind know?" A strong wind blows again. He picks up the crystal and goes outside to make it reflect the sun. He sees a shooting star headed south. "An astronomy witch," He tries to think. What's in the south? His brain racks for an answer for a few moments until he finally got it. "Katarameni." He takes a bunch of crystals and musters all his energy. "The wind will take me." An extremely strong wind rushes past him. The wind comes back to him and engulfs him. The wind goes up, taking Jooheon with it. Jooheon tries to concentrate more, hoping that his energy will last until he reaches Katarameni. CHANGKYUN Type of Witch: Solitary - Practicing by ones’ self; not included in a group Witchcraft: Sanguine - Meaning “blood” or “blood red color” in Latin, a type of magick that deals with blood or other life giving fluid; life blood can also be represented through things such as water, or nutrients. A term for those who work with blood and life-oriented magick! Death/Necromancy - A practice that may combine Bone, Animal, Spirit work, occasionally also Blood. Using spirits to empower one self, hoarding bones, using graveyards, graves, the spirits of them, as well as the dirt (or even plants) that are found in them. May also honor the dead and/or gods who work with the dead. 

Changkyun feels the wind getting stronger. He carefully gets his knife and lightly cuts his thumb. He dips his thumb in the river and lets his blood flow while he says a chant. The wind does not get calmer and he decides to perform the ritual later. The thought frustrates him because he would have to walk around the town again to find new bones. He keeps chanting until blood no longer flows from his thumb. He hears a rustle from behind him and he turns around. He makes careful hand movements to make the river move at his will. "Who's there?" A man about Changkyun's height appears from behind the trees. He is wearing a loose black shirt and pants. He has a fair skin contrast to Chankyun and an ebony black hair to compliment it. The man smiles at him. "Who are you?" Chankyun asks, not letting his guard down. "My name's Yoo Kihyun. A member of the Tragaudo clan and I need your help." This surprises Changkyun but he maintains his guard. "What help?" "I want to summon our clan's spirit familiar. But my skill as a spirit working isn't enough to summon such powerful spirit. I would need a necromancer to do it." Chankyun narrows his eyes in suspicion, Kihyun seems to be telling the truth. He is about to answer when the wind got stronger. He lifts his hands and the river follows. He sees Kihyun takes out a pen in his bag and scribbles something in his palm. A smoking armored figured appeared behind Kihyun. The wind stops and both of them gets ready to attack. A whirlwind is coming towards them Changkyun puts his arms forward the river's water go for the whirlwind. The water surrounds the water and drags it to the river. The whirlwind stops, revealing a person. The person lands on the lake and Changkyun quickly goes to him. When he is close enough, he recognizes the person. Kihyun's gasp from behind him indicates that he does too. "Prince Jooheon?" Kihyun says. Jooheon gets up, face contorting to irritation. "I'm very sorry, my prince," Changkyun says. He wanted to at least lessen his punishment by apologizing now that he's been caught. "It's okay. I know you know you're being hunted," Changkyun eyes widen. "Listen. The whole country is after you. Some witch literally bewitched my father and now his probably preparing like he prepares for war." If Chankyun's eyes can get any wider, they probably would. "Why are you here?" "I'm here to help? I don't know, I just came here on impulse. I didn't want them coming after you." "A prince indeed," Kihyun comments. "Does they know he's here?" Changkyun looks at Kihyun then back at Jooheon. "Probably not. Before I left, a coven and some locals asked for my father's army. They were probably going to search every nook and crook of this country. Who are you by the way? Why are you with the necromancer?" He asks Kihyun. "I'm no one. I came to him to ask help, turns out he's the one who needs it. Funny how the universe work," Kihyun says. "But I still want your help. But not now, which brings us to the question, what are you going to do now?" Changkyun looks back and forth at the two of them and thinks. He knew that he couldn't stay here for long but he hoped that he could just until he could finish the ritual. He didn't expect to be leaving the place so soon. What's more is that he has a witch that needs his help and a prince kind enough to warn him, both apparently willing to help them. He has never been in this kind of situation before so he didn't know what to do. Something suddenly explodes from above them. He looks up and sees glitters falling. Among the glitters are four figures dangerously plummeting down. When they are nearing the ground, however, the fall swiftly like a feather. When they land, one of them, a tall thin man, collapses. A man with gray-blue hair quickly goes over to him to watch him. Now he got four more witches whom he doesn't know the intentions of. "Is he okay?" Kihyun asks. "Yeah. He just used up too many energy to get us here," a white-haired, answers. "Who are you, people?" Changkyun asks. "Hello, great necromancer whom the whole country is after, greetings to you Prince Jooheon, what are you doing here? And good afternoon to you concern man." "What?" Kihyun inserts. "We are here to join the party of the people who will rule the world once this chase is over," the white-haired man concludes his introduction. "What he means is," a broad tan man says, "we are here to side with the necromancer." Changkyun is just beyond confused this point. Years ago, he was banished by his coven for attempting to study necromancy. A week ago, the whole country wants to hunt him down. He had been alone for a long time. But now, six people are willing to help him. He didn't know what to do or feel. "Min," the tall man who collapsed whispers, eyes still closed The white-haired man rushes to him. "What is it?" "They're coming." They hear horses coming from a distance. "Search the place!" A female voice commands. "We need to get out of here. Now," Jooheon says. "The place is surrounded and none of us is capable of fast traveling now. Where would we go?" The gray-blue haired man says. "Hold on to me," Changkyun says. "We're going to the underworld."

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.54

“Finger on the Trigger”

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << 53 - In for a Penny 55 - Null Way Out >>

"Captain's Log, stardate... same stardate as the last twenty logs. Supplemental. We've begun building the tachyon device that Mischkelovitz tells me will kill us all. At this point, it seems preferable."

Lorca paused. He was in his quarters, mostly dressed and wishing the coffee wasn't being rationed so strictly. While he could have pulled rank, it would send the wrong message to the crew and the last thing he needed was to make them more resentful of this situation than they already were.

"Computer, wipe that and start over. Captain's Log, supplemental. We are beginning work on a tachyon pulse device despite the risks, as there are few options left for us to explore. The anti-spore idea has proven to be a dead end. The transporter idea has gone nowhere, literally, and the temporal field research needs parts we don't have. In light of that, I'm willing to risk everything to get us out of here. The alternative is no future at all." The irony being that the real problem was the potential of too much future.

The door chimed. It was Landry. "Captain. The overnight disciplinary report you asked for."

"Hand-delivered. Nice touch," smirked Lorca. He scanned the report. There was another uptick in incidents. Apparently, someone was stealing pieces from the puzzle in the mess hall, and an ensign who normally worked in operations and had a reputation for being tightly-wound had freaked out at being unable to complete the puzzle for the third time.

"Do you want me to investigate the missing puzzle pieces?" asked Landry.

"I can think of a dozen better uses for your time."

"I can only think of one."

One was enough, it turned out.

In truth, it was beginning to feel vaguely unsatisfying and routine. Not that Lorca didn't try to make it interesting for both their sakes, but apparently Landry's heart wasn't totally in it this morning because she turned her head and looked out the window and said, "Does it look like there are more stars to you?"

"Really, Ellen?" asked Lorca. "Am I not doing my part here?"

Landry propped herself up on her elbows. "No, look. Between the two bright ones, there's a little star. That wasn't there before."

Lorca withdrew with a sigh. He turned to look.

He immediately abandoned Landry. Not only could he now make out more points of light, there was a faint red-orange hue in part of the sky. More stars and the trace of a familiar nebula.

He hurriedly began to dress. "Computer! Senior science staff to astrometrics!"

Landry watched him put his clothes back on with faint disbelief. "You're leaving me? Right now? Like this?"

He threw his hands up and smiled with genuinely dorky happiness. "There are stars out there! Stars!" He pulled his shoes on as he hopped out the door.

Landry stared after him, torn between annoyance and admiration. Then she smiled. No one else loved stars quite as much as Captain Lorca. And that grin on his face, she'd never seen one quite like it before. There was something bright and pure in it.

It was amazing. After this many weeks and in this situation, he could still surprise her.

Running to astrometrics had probably been unnecessary, as everyone else had chosen to walk. Saru, Egorova, Stamets, and Kumar arrived one by one and took up their usual places in the room. It was too early in the morning for Mischkelovitz, but Groves came in her place. Presumably he would fill her in later.

"Stars!" said Lorca, with his hands for emphasis.

They stared.

He tried again. "Has anybody looked out the window lately?"

"At the stars?" asked Stamets, hunching his shoulders slightly as he tended to when he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You mean the increasing light?" said Saru.

"Yes! There are more stars out there than there used to be!"

Egorova cleared her throat. "Sir, we're aware of the increase in photons. I didn't want to say anything until I was sure, but we don't have six hundred years. We have eight months."

"Fantastic!" said Lorca, thrilled. Eight months was insane, but doable. They would even be able to lessen most of the rationing restrictions.

Egorova blinked her eyes rapidly. He thought she meant eight months until null time ended. She shook her head. "No. We have eight months until the photon density kills us."

The change on Lorca's face seemed almost to happen in slow motion. His elation shifted into pensive disgust. "What?" he said with a sharp jerk of his head.

Egorova sighed. "So, we're in a time bubble. Photons—along with other particles—are hitting the outside of the bubble. A tiny portion of them slip through miniscule gaps in the mycelial barrier, meaning we get to see a few more stars for the time being. But the larger portion of photons stick to the barrier, both when they exit and enter. As a result, there's an entire set of photons that aren't reaching us. They're frozen in time along at the edge of the bubble. It's the photons we're not seeing that are the problem. They're thickening the barrier. As they accumulate, the holes will get smaller and the view will get darker, and the temporal barrier will become more complete."

The more Egorova spoke, the worse it sounded.

"Eventually, the density of particles will create a sort of temporal black hole." This sounded like a Groves term. Possibly pillow talk. "In a regular black hole, gravity is so strong no light can escape. This will be a hole from which no time can escape. My guess is when we hit the point of temporal singularity and our local time collapses, there'll be a brief flash of light as photons on the surface of the field are expelled by the collapse, and nobody will ever know it was us. They'll just see a photonic explosion. The resulting hole will look black, because no light will be able to escape, but it won't have a massive gravity signature. It will just be something that grabs matter and freezes it in time. Eventually, I think it'll grab enough matter to create an actual black hole. But that could take millions of years of external time."

Lorca sat with this for a long moment, chewing his lip. "Huh," he finally concluded, staring at the far wall with half-lidded eyes.

"What if we try initiating another spore jump out of here?" suggested Kumar.

"How?" asked Stamets. "I put more spores in the chamber, they're just gonna get contaminated by the spores that are in there. It's like an infection, remember?" He felt certain he had explained this to Kumar already once before.

"Captain," said Saru, "we may yet have success—"

"New plan," said Lorca suddenly. "We're going to expend all of our resources. Food, power, air, everything. We'll burn it if we have to."

"Captain?" said Saru tentatively.

Lorca held up a finger. "Then, at the last moment, whatever force it is put us in this predicament is going to let us out."

Stamets, Saru, Kumar, and Egorova looked at Lorca with varying degrees of alarm. Saru's threat ganglia began to emerge.

Groves snickered. "You've lost your goddamn mind," he said, and started laughing.

Since Mischkelovitz wasn't present, Lorca decided to do something he'd been wanting to do for a very long time. He pressed the button for the comms. "Lorca to Landry. Commander, would you mind dropping by astrometrics and escorting Specialist Groves to the brig?"

"With pleasure, sir."

Egorova's eyes widened. "Sir!"

"You can't do that," said Groves. Despite the fact Lorca was finally making real on the old threat, he still didn't seem alarmed in the slightest. "I know, I know, captain does what he wants on his ship, but Starfleet regulations clearly state you need a reason to imprison me. Or else it looks really bad, like I'm right and you have lost your mind."

Lorca threw his hands up and smirked. "Insubordination, insulting your captain, improper conduct in a meeting, you can take your pick!"

"Oh, come on," said Groves with a grin. "None of the above."

Landry arrived looking very pleased because this was her favorite part of her job. "Mr. Groves. You going to come quietly? Please say no."

"Make peace not war," said Groves, chuckling at his own perceived cleverness. He went with Landry without further objection. Unflappable to the last, it seemed.

Saru, Stamets, Egarova, and Kumar stood and watched Lorca for some sign that this was not as bad as it seemed.

"Sir, I know that sometimes human humor escapes me," said Saru, "so perhaps you can explain the joke about destroying our supplies?"

"No joke, Mr. Saru. Just good old human intuition. We'll get out of this, you'll see." He had decided Lalana might be right. This was a truly bizarre way to go about destroying the ship. If someone had put them in this with benign intent, someone could take them out of it if they forced that person's hand.

Saru touched a hand to his threat ganglia. He had always felt human intuition somewhat lacking.

Egorova did her best to put a kibosh on the insanity. "We still have eight months before we're at the point of no return. We might come up with better ideas. And maybe the anti-spore just needs more time."

Stamets let out a tiny groan and rubbed at his eyes. "Nothing is working! No matter what we do, the anti-spores keep falling apart! They need to have characteristics matching a spore, but it turns out when you invert everything, the spores just fall apart like confetti."

"Perhaps a more novel approach," began Saru.

For the second time, Lorca cut Saru off. Something in the way Stamets said the words triggered half an idea in Lorca's head and his eyes went wide with shock. "Lallen!" he shouted. Then, in a more modest tone: "No, not lallen... lelulallen!"

No one else in the room had any idea what he was talking about.

"Computer, access lului medical files, authorization Lorca-Charlie-Omega-5-1-7-9."

The report appeared on the floating astrometrics display. Lorca swiped through it as fast as he could, looking for the right part. Ek'Ez's report was as thorough as could be. What it lacked in technical scans it more than made up for in written detail and optics. He found the passage on lului medical treatment protocols and shook a finger at it, grinning. "Aha!"

Stamets was standing nearest Lorca and squinted at the text. "Suspension of biomimetic..." He gasped. "Yes!" He turned and looked at Lorca with something akin to happiness. "Yes! Why didn't I think of that?"

"'Cause you're not a medical doctor," said Lorca, utterly without malice. "And you don't know anything about lului."

Stamets happily threw his hands up. "I mean, I don’t! Whatever that thing is! But this—captain, this could work!"

Saru also realized what Lorca was proposing. It was entirely the sort of novel solution Saru had been trying to suggest they consider before Lorca cut him off. "I'll begin gathering the materials and inform the necessary crew."

"Excellent." Though the idea had been his, Lorca looked at them in a way that made it feel like this was a shared victory. "Let's get to it."

"Sir," said Kumar. "The tachyon emitter?"

"Go ahead and finish it, but we're giving Mr. Stamets another chance."

"Thank you, captain," said Stamets, elated.

Kumar looked genuinely disappointed. Despite the group's insistence his idea was a bad one bound to doom the ship to a terrible end, he had really thought he would be able to prove them wrong.

Saru, Stamets, Egorova, and Kumar made their way out. Lorca leaned on the astrometrics console and started chuckling. Background radiation. As if. Though, it had been his idea. In a way they were both of them the key.

Arriving in his study, Lorca grabbed a fortune cookie. You desire to discover new frontiers, it read.

"No shit," he said, and smiled, crunching down on the cookie as he brought up the feed in Stamets' engineering lab. The place was absolutely abuzz with frenzied excitement for the first time in weeks. As he had not eaten breakfast, Lorca grabbed another cookie after a minute.

The door chimed. It was Colonel O'Malley, looking tired and unhappy. "Captain."

"Colonel," answered Lorca in kind, and offered him the cookie.

O'Malley declined. "Please tell me you did not put John in the brig."

Lorca cracked the second cookie. "I put him right where he belongs. Surely you can see that?" Lorca was undeniably pleased with himself. Even if Groves was unperturbed by the confinement, it really felt like finally putting the man in his place. The second fortune was: Your thoughts are highly regarded. Lorca snorted in amusement at it.

O'Malley sighed. This was the end of his shift and he was cutting into his sleep to be here having this conversation. "I don't disagree with you, but would you mind letting him out?"

"I'd mind very much," said Lorca, smirking and chewing. He dropped the fortune in the trash alongside the previous one. "Specialist Groves isn't going anywhere. My decision is final."

It took O'Malley a moment to formulate a response. "Captain. I'm not sure how much you're aware, but John and I have an agreement concerning Dr. Mischkelovitz. You have to let him out so he can fulfill his part of it."

"I don't have to do anything," said Lorca. He took a third cookie. This was a very poor substitute for an actual breakfast, but he was in too good a mood to care. Your dearest wish will come true. He was on a roll today.

"I will beg if I have to," said O'Malley, making his desperation clear. "Someone has to watch her during the day."

As fervently as O'Malley was trying, Lorca remained wholly unmoved and maintained his flippancy, saying, "I'll assign an ensign. If you hadn't noticed, we've got plenty of them on hand with very little to do."

"Oh no you bloody well won't," went O'Malley. "Security clearances, for starters. You really want word about Lalana getting out on the ship?"

The amusement on Lorca's face faded. That was a good point.

"Then there's the issue, it has to be someone Melly trusts, or we're going to have an absolute meltdown on our hands."

Lorca shrugged. "How about Lalana? She has clearance and she's there already. And you can't tell me Mischkelovitz doesn't trust her."

O'Malley tilted his head to the side. "You want Lalana to watch Emellia? Captain, I don't know that she has what it takes."

"You'd be surprised what she's capable of," said Lorca.

"I have no doubt, but she's an alien. They don't always pick up on the right cues, and I can't possibly get her up to speed on everything she needs to know right now. John would have to walk her through it anyway. Please, just let John out of the brig so he can do his shift. He can go back after."

Lorca shrugged. "You know, colonel, you're gonna have to get used to going without. As soon as we're back in normal space, Groves is leaving Discovery permanently." Not into the vacuum of space, as Lorca had variously threatened, but to the nearest starbase, outpost, or inhabited planet. Maybe uninhabited planet with breathable atmosphere if Lorca could find one.

O'Malley's face went white. "Captain, no, you can't. You promised me Emellia could stay, and frankly, I can't watch her twenty-four hours a day! I just—I can't!"

"Not my problem, colonel. You'll just have to make do with Lalana."

O'Malley's face fell, but he recovered quickly, displaying a sudden reserve of determination. "Captain, I more than anyone understand how particularly frustrating John is, but it is entirely unbecoming of you to let your jealousy get the better of you like this."

Lorca's eyebrows shot up. "Jealousy?" he repeated. "You think I'm jealous of your brother? An overblown windbag with no business on a starship who gets to spend the rest of his time here in the brig?" He was practically boasting with glee. "No, colonel, this is not jealousy."

"He's not my brother, and it absolutely is. You're threatened by him."

Lorca dismissed this with a smirk and a shrug. "Not even a little bit." Shooting three-pointers was not a skill Lorca had any interest in. Neither was coining pithy names or negotiating in courtrooms.

"Here's the thing, captain, you think I haven't noticed you and John both have to be the funniest man in the room, constantly proving nothing bothers you? It's like you're competing with each other. And I know what it is made him that way, so I'm very sorry for whatever it is happened to you, truly I am, but I assure you, Emellia's been through much worse, and the only person you're hurting by locking John up is her."

All trace of amusement vanished as O'Malley spoke. In its place rose a brimming resentment. Lorca said in a hoarse, threatening voice, "You have no idea what this war has cost me. Don't you dare presume to measure her grief against mine, colonel. I lost my entire command. People I've known for years, who were loyal to me, who followed me, who trusted me. People I cared about. I had to watch as my ship was destroyed. You think you know what that feels like? And you think the loss of a single man compares to all of that?"

O'Malley was calm, patient, and understanding as he said, "I wasn't referring to the war, captain. But as you mention it, I would never dare presume the weight of what happened to your ship or measure it against anything. But please, for Emellia's sake, let John out. You're better than this."

"Am I?" challenged Lorca.

"Yes. Without a doubt." O'Malley's splotchy, freckled face was openly sincere.

Lorca frowned and looked away, a faint sneer forming on his lips. After a moment it switched to a snarling frown. "Fine," he said. "Arrange the hours with Landry. And I don't see him anywhere but in that lab or in my brig. Understood?"

"I won't forget this, captain. Thank you." O'Malley stood at brief attention, which was a marked sign of respect since their ranks were equal, and left.

Lorca still had the third fortune and half a cookie in his hand. Two and a half fortune cookies did not make for a sufficient breakfast, but he no longer had an appetite. He dropped both the fortune and the cookie half into the trash.

Saru came across with O'Malley in the corridor. O'Malley was balancing three trays of food on his arms.

"Colonel," greeted Saru. "You are not eating in the mess today?"

"Not for a while it looks. Captain's made it very clear that John's not allowed there. Would you like to join us in the lab?"

"I've already eaten, but I will assist you." Saru took one of the trays.

"Much appreciated!" They continued down the corridor. Saru slowed his long strides slightly to match O'Malley's pace, but despite the almost comical height difference, O'Malley walked quickly, so it was only a slight adjustment.

O'Malley seemed a good person to talk to, as he was outside of Discovery's usual chain of command, and Saru had gotten to know him decently well in the recent weeks. "I am concerned about the captain's confinement of Mr. Groves."

"Oh, don't be," said O'Malley. "John'll be fine."

This was not precisely what Saru meant. "Do you think it reflects poorly on the captain? John is a civilian. There is much about Starfleet he doesn't understand."

O'Malley half-smiled at that. "Between you and me, John's an expert on the regulations. He just willfully ignores them. Honestly, I'm surprised he didn't end up in the brig sooner. Getting under people's skin is sort of his modus operandi."

"Then, you see no problem with the captain's decision."

O'Malley realized there was something more at play here. "Did something happen with the captain?"

Saru did not answer this question easily. "This morning, in addition to confining John, he suggested sabotaging our remaining supplies. And..."

O'Malley was patient. "You don't have to say if you don't want to."

This relieved much of the pressure Saru felt and he admitted, "He was dismissive of me."

During his time aboard the Shenzhou, Saru had always felt he lacked respect from the rest of the crew. The arrival of Michael Burnham had only served to highlight this state of affairs. From the first moment Burnham set foot on the ship, Georgiou had been almost infatuated with her. Suddenly everything was about Burnham: how brilliant Burnham was, how special, how strong and skilled. The actions they took were largely Burnham's suggestions and Burnham became the central figure of the ship to whom everyone looked for guidance.

It was no surprise when Georgiou passed over Saru for the position of first officer and chose Burnham instead, but that did not make it sting any less. It had only compounded Saru's feelings of inadequacy at the time. He knew, on some level, that he was not inadequate, but the universe seemed to be trying to convince him of the fact, and it made it hard to deny in the face of such overt evidence.

Saru still loved and respected his former captain. Georgiou was always kind and patient. But kindness and patience did not equal respect.

Joining Discovery as its first officer, Saru had not expected things to be very different, because he remained largely the same person he had always been. Changing ships did not change who he was at his core.

Yet things were different. There was only so much of that could be attributed to the position of first officer; Saru was not so arrogant as to think the respect he received was wholly his own. The fact was, crews took their cues from their captains. Lorca had shown respect for Saru from the outset and the crew had followed Lorca's lead.

Which was why it hurt so much to suddenly feel like Lorca was treating him the way Burnham had, the way Georgiou had allowed Burnham to.

They were nearing the lab. "Here, come in a minute, will you?" said O'Malley as Larsson came into view. Larsson had been expecting O'Malley and opened the door for them.

The doors cycled. Mischkelovitz and Groves were within. O'Malley practically threw the food trays at them and returned to the outer area with Saru, closing the doors for privacy.

"Right," said O'Malley, crossing his arms. "Tell me from the top what happened."

Saru explained in as much detail as he could. He went over the events of the meeting, the seemingly insane suggestion, the way Lorca had interrupted him not once but twice, and then found himself confessing that this reminded him of the way he had been treated by his former crew. O'Malley listened with patient attention, and when Saru was finished, he said:

"I think it's just been a very bad day for the captain. The combination of John being annoying, having his hopes dashed, and the whole infernal situation we're in just got the better of him. If I may, Lalana says Captain Lorca is a man who hates standing still. Despises it with every fiber of his being. This null time thing is essentially his worst nightmare come true and he's been living in it for a month now. It's amazing he hasn't cracked sooner. But you should go right now and tell him that you felt disrespected. Do it in a way that suggests you recognize the behavior is out of character. Be understanding, but not overly sympathetic. You don't want him to think you see him as weak in any way, or that he needs your sympathy. Understand what I'm saying?"

The instructions were somewhat complex, but they made a certain sense. "I should endeavor to make the captain understand I know it was a momentary mistake, and it is already forgiven."

"Ah, that's perfect!" said O'Malley. "Off you go, then."

"Thank you, colonel," said Saru as the outer doors opened.

"Any time, Saru." O'Malley smiled and the doors closed.

O'Malley stood alone in the lab's entryway. The smile vanished almost immediately. "O'Malley to Lorca."

"Go," came the response.

"Are you alone, captain?"

A pause. "Yes." There was a note of curiosity in the tone.

"Right. So, Saru's going to come to you in a minute and he's rather upset that you talked over him twice in the meeting this morning. When he walks in the door, you should immediately tell him you've been mulling over the morning's events and you feel you did him a disservice, you're just tired of being stuck in one place. You don't have to apologize, mind you, just make him think you feel badly about it."

Another pause. "What?"

"Did I stutter? Or is it the accent? It's the accent, isn't it."

"The accent doesn't help," said Lorca. "What brought this on?"

"Well, you did me a favor, captain, and I'm the sort that likes to repay them, so. Just giving you a heads up."

Yet again, a pause. "This doesn't mean Groves can stay."

"But you've got to admit, it's awfully useful doing me favors, isn't it?"

"Lorca out."

O'Malley smiled again, this time for no one's benefit but his own. He opened the inner doors. "Your food's cold," was Groves' greeting.

"Shut up, John," said O'Malley cheerfully, then noticed something was missing from his tray. "Melly, did you eat my pudding?"

When Saru arrived, Lorca greeted him with something like a confession, offering roughly the same combination of words O'Malley suggested. The Kelpien was gratified to realize how much his captain truly valued him as a result. Then Lorca let Saru speak as to the nature of the issue, similarly pleased that Saru seemed to realize it was not an intentional slight on his part, and they concluded with a handshake.

When Saru left, Lorca stood in quiet thought, staring at the faint glimmers of stars that had not been visible before. Though there was no atmosphere, the way the photons interacted with the barrier made them seem to twinkle.

He was going to get them back out there or die trying.

Part 55

[facilityquest-blog]

DAY-IN-THE-LIFE OF A SPACE UTILIZATION STUDY

DAY ONE OF #PROJECTSATISFACTION

FacilityQuest started a two-week utilization study for a well-known tech company in one of its European offices. A utilization study gathers data about "how many people are doing what activities in what types of spaces." This study covers 14-floor plans in three locations, and we're very happy to have our partner MovePlan taking good care of the ten observers over the two weeks of the study.

We've never before told the data gathering story as it unfolds day-by-day, but this project might be a good one to try it on. Stay tuned for more updates in the next two weeks. To help track this story on LinkedIn, we’re code naming this #ProjectSatisfaction, since Keith Richards laid down one of the greatest pop hooks of all time on this day--May 7--in 1965.

The graphic on the right is the setup for one floor of a space utilization study, with the blue dots overlaying a floor plan to represent observation points, and red lines as visual markup to indicate the walking path. The blue dots also contain data about the space, such as space type, room identifiers, department/building information, capacity, and more. Observers walk the space with an iPad or other tablet and take data about the activity going on in the space. As the data accumulates, you can start to see statistics on how many people doing what activities in each space type.

Day One is a training day, a route validation day, and an adjustment day. We walked the routes to make sure they matched what we assumed from the floor plans. A few adjustments were made. Observers on this project were re-shuffled a bit between routes, and generally out-performed expectations. By the second or third hour, consistency and efficiency were achieved.  

DAY TWO OF #PROJECTSATISFACTION

This observations dashboard shows that the temp workers have hit their groove and are now very efficient. So efficient that some are asking for more to do, and we asked one observer to take test data in an open cafe area not originally part of the study.  

The colors in the grid below the map to the observers, and floating over any colored cell offers who, when, how many, and average time per observation. “Mark” is on both Route A and Route C, with a lot of consistency. Route E is being shared with two observers each taking every other hour.  

Interestingly, multiple observers have told us what a beautiful space it is, how nice it must be to work here, how friendly the staff is, and how this company seems to really care about their employees. I guess that’s also what workplace strategists want to hear!

DAY FOUR OF #PROJECTSATISFACTION

Yes, we skipped Day Three. Lots of good data were gathered.  

For Day 4 (a Friday) we’re taking a mid-stream look at data coming in to see how enclosed meeting rooms are used. Often, companies want to see a comparison of how the SUPPLY of enclosed meeting spaces is meeting the DEMAND of the group sizes that use them. In the data story below, we see how many of what size meeting rooms are available (the SUPPLY), and compare that to the size of groups that meet.

SUPPLY

The “supply” of meeting rooms is derived from static data, i.e. information for each observation point that doesn’t change from hour to hour. This data is usually part of the setup of a utilization project, but it can also be validated and updated on site. Floor plans sometimes get out of date, don’t they?

This is a breakdown of the supply of meeting rooms, shown as a percent of more than one hundred enclosed meeting spaces observed.

DEMAND BY SIZE OF MEETINGS (AS OBSERVED ANYWHERE)

When “meetings” happen, how many people are in those meetings? Note that “Meeting” is an observed primary activity, and this perspective on DEMAND shows all meetings wherever they happen, and not necessarily in enclosed meeting rooms. But that also means that when only one person is observed in a meeting room, it isn’t usually tagged as a “meeting.” Therefore, the 3% of 1-person meetings were observed as virtual online meetings.

This is a breakdown of all activity tagged as “Meeting”, regardless of where it was observed.

DEMAND BY GROUP SIZE OBSERVED IN ENCLOSED MEETING ROOMS

Important question: what is considered a meeting room? Would a “training room” also be used for meetings? We don’t know yet, so what you see below is the best guess from an outsider’s perspective. But for this example, we excluded phone booth rooms and phone pods. So, “40% of enclosed meeting room space used by 1 person” means that either the phone booth rooms were filled, or people preferred to camp out in meeting rooms to get their individual work done.

For all activity observed in enclosed meeting rooms, this shows the breakdown of group size, regardless of room capacity.

By looking at these three analytics, what else would you want to know about meeting space demand that would impact decisions for changing up the supply?  Ask us. There are so many good questions.

DAY FIVE OF #PROJECTSATISFACTION

Monday, May 13 is now sealed and delivered, which completes a full five days since the project started after a Monday holiday last week. But we still have a week to go!

A few more adjustments: One observer called in sick this morning, so we quickly shuffled the routes to re-allocate. An observer named Michelle requested to switch routes just to get a change of environment. Ellie kindly agreed to swap with her and they both completed their new routes averaging 3.8 seconds or less. This is fast! They are getting very good at reading floor plans while taking data.

A new route gets added on the fly to capture behavior around a stairwell during and after meetings.

Lean in to lunch: The observers have become so quick (and thus finishing routes with significant time to spare) that we decided to collect data through the lunch period. This gives the client information on where and when staff is taking their lunch break.

On-the-fly experiment: After noticing some interesting behaviors in and around the core stairwell of the building, we added yet another short route to capture the patterns. People were stepping out of meetings to take phone calls, and it looked as if groups were forming “post meetings” to close out meetings that needed more time. Our observer Olivia has been documenting the types of behaviors and interactions in this space and making thorough notes. Also, instead of following the dots numerically (letting the software advance to the next space), she touches the dots according to where the interactions are happening. Interestingly, we’ve brainstormed scenarios for this “inverted” method of taking data in recent weeks, so I’m curious to see how the new data story takes shape.

Make hay when the sun shines: This should close up Monday on a happy note… sunshine is causing a lot more activity out on the terrace, so we extended the café route on the 5th floor to capture the sun seekers.

DAY SIX OF #PROJECTSATISFACTION

A snapshot preview: aggregated observations of activity over the length of the study so far can be seen as colors representing percent ranges of utilization.

Tuesday, May 14 saw the sun still shining! One of our observers is a Yoga instructor and had the idea of involving the team in a Yoga session in the park today at 2.30pm between surveys. How’s that for a revitalizing break! Also, we did another quick shuffling of routes when an observer had to leave early today for an appointment.

Wi-Fi reliability: We had a few issues with the Wi-Fi recently, resulting in observations data not uploading immediately and automatically when the route is finished. We are prepared for this, and it happens more frequently than one might imagine. Even though the FacilityQuest app is software-as-a-service (available via a website), the data gathering mode is fully expecting to be in a non-connected stand-alone environment. Data remains safely on the device for as long as needed. The only damage to the device itself (or unavailability, if the device is stolen, for instance) is a threat for lost data. We train the on-site point person to check all devices at the end of the day for any remaining data that needs uploading. But in fact, the data for the entire length of the survey would be safe if no Wi-Fi was available, even at the end of the day.

Heat maps: We took a peek at some of the very initial data presented as “heat,” i.e. showing the utilization in colors on the floor plans based on the aggregated utilization. While the colors and data ranges they represent are dynamically adjustable, our default defines blue as the least utilized (under 30%), yellow is between 30-49%, orange is 50% - 69% and red is the highest (over 70%).  It’s also fun to scroll through the hours to see how it changes over the course of the day; maybe we’ll show that a bit later on.

A new experimental route, added just a day ago, already shows some interesting patterns of utilization in an area intended as circulation space (not designed to support work or collaboration).

Remember the new route created to track activity around a stairwell, outside of a bunch of conference rooms? Here it is with just one day’s worth of data. Those red hot spots are pretty impressively utilized for a space that is not intended for gathering or working. However, because this is an experiment, and because the data is being captured when activity is noticed (not once per hour, as in the rest of the study), it is not an apples-to-apples comparison with other routes. That said, each observed activity is time-stamped, and can be analyzed separately to glean an understanding of this unique space.

[childrenofhypnos]

Chapter 27: The House on Fenhallow Hill

There was no Grandpa Al waiting for them when they returned to the surface, and Lana let Emery go without any fuss, too busy muttering over the empty eyedropper and Klaus’s waking water.

Emery ran back to Kirkland, where lights burned in the tall gothic windows, and Wes, Ridley, and the class eighteen student council sat around the TV in the lobby. Kris and Lewis were doing homework; Jacqueline was flipping through something on her phone; Wes and Ridley were watching the news, Wes as still and silent as a statue and Ridley bouncing up and down on the couch cushion beside him; and Joel was busy tying orange and purple Fenhalloween decoration streamers together until he looked up and saw her there, and then he tossed them away with a big smile.

Emery sat herself on Ridley’s other side and explained quickly and quietly what had just happened.

“So Uncle Ares hasn’t gotten him to say anything yet,” Wes said.

Ridley looked worried. “Is he not trying? Or…does he not really want the information? Uncle Ares is supposed to be really good at finding things out.”

“I don’t know how Klaus resisted him, but we can’t assume he’s going to be able to do it for much longer,” Emery said. “We need to find my doppelgänger before this gets out of hand. Joel, what do you have?”

“The perfect place.” He pulled out a sheet of orange paper. One of the many fliers for Fenhalloween that had been tacked up on the Crossing’s main bulletin board. On it was a creepy low-angle shot of Fenhallow Manor, and the date and time—Halloween, 9 PM—that Fenhalloween would begin. In all caps at the bottom, it said, COSTUMES MANDATORY.

Emery frowned. “Fenhallow Manor?”

Joel leaned forward. “Yes! Think about it: the class sixteen council just finished cleaning and decorating it for Fenhalloween, so we know it’s in good shape. It’s off-limits because it’s just been decorated, so no one will go there at night unless student council members are there to fix decorations or anything. And you’re technically not leaving campus, but it’s far enough away that no one is likely to hear us or walk in on us.”

He paused, then said, “And, you know, it’s haunted and stuff. Which is cool.”

“I guess this works,” Emery said. “As long as the Wilmark Fox doesn’t try to attack us inside the house.”

“Ver did some experiments with the Fox. It only attacks you if you look at it,” Jacqueline said.

“Why would Ver do experiments with it?”

“Why wouldn’t she? You have to observe your enemies in order to learn how to defeat them. Just because the rest of you don’t think before you leap…”

Emery let out the longest, most exaggerated sigh she could manage. Jacqueline glanced up, glaring. A moment passed. Her lip curled up at the corner.

“Well,” Emery said, “are we going tonight or what? We know Ares isn’t around; we might as well go now, even if it’s just to check the place out.”

Joel was already out of his seat and bounding toward the door; Jacqueline, Kris, and Ridley went next, leaving just Lewis and Wes to glance uncertainly at each other, then at Emery.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Wes asked. “Open a gateway? Go into the Dream again? It wasn’t great for us last time, and what if opening a gateway from the inside is different than opening it from the outside? We could get stuck in there.”

“You don’t have to go in,” Emery said.

A vein stood out in Wes’s forehead. “We’re not having this argument again.”

Lewis, slinging his backpack over his shoulders, slipped between them muttering, “It just seems like a bad idea to me.” Emery followed him out, Wes close on her heels.

~

The nighttime bustle of the Sleeping City had settled over campus. The horns and squeals of cars on the streets, the ethereal rush from distant highways. Sounds echoed off the skyscrapers. Van der Gelt tower loomed above all the rest, the lights that veined along its black architechture lit up in purple and azure as a nod to the dreamhunters who protected the city.

Fenhallow Woods stood against the soft din of mankind, its face unblinking, its silence complete. The last of the crickets had gone for the season; the only thing that disturbed the woods now was the wind. The dirt trail that wound its way through the sports fields curved up into the woods, disappearing between the trees.

Emery had seen pictures of the time when the campus was founded, when it was Fabian Fenhallow’s manor house sitting high on a hill, surrounded by a smattering of trees and looking down on the small population that would become the Sleeping City. The same picture taken now would show only Fenhallow’s campus and the thick crush of the woods. The manor had been swallowed.

Emery marched in the front of the group, guns drawn; Wes and Ridley brought up the rear. Joel, the only one who had known where they were going, had brought a flashlight.

“No one look directly ahead of us,” Emery said. “The Fox could show up in the middle of the path, and I’m not in the mood to fight it off. Keep your eyes down.”

But the Fox didn’t make an appearance. At least, not that Emery saw. She never looked to the sides, and she never looked back. She felt a faint buzz of the Dream around them, but they were in the woods, where the veil between the Dream and the waking world grew thin. Ares Montgomery could’ve come charging up behind them, and she wouldn’t have felt his approach. For moments at a time, Emery felt they were back in Klaus’s nightmare, following the trail to the ruined castle, and that Marcia might slide out in front of them in full armor and a battle axe.

At the top of the hill, the path flattened out into a wide stone-paved circle, and the trees broke apart, their branches scraping a star-dotted sky. Another statue rose from the bushes and tangles of dead vines in the center of the circular drive, a man on rearing horseback with a sword raised to the sky. Overgrown underbrush covered what had once been a sprawling lawn, and in the middle of the mess stood Fenhallow Manor.

The Fenhallow grounds crew had kept most of the plant life off of the long porch and tall walls of the manor, and every few years the school paid to have another part of its crumbling structure repaired and fortified. The porch columns straightened; the shattered windows replaced; the roof reshingled and the ornamental brass poppy plucked from the wild shrubs in the lawn and reset atop the peak of the east tower, where it curled against the moon. Yet for all that work it still felt like an abandoned place, gaunt and silent and watching them approach. Fenhalloween was held inside every year, but the exterior was never decorated. It didn’t need to be.

Joel raised his flashlight to the statue of the horse and its rider.

“Great-great-great-grandpa is lookin’ good, Em,” he said.

“Add a couple more greats. Everyone in my family was like twenty when they had kids.” Emery looked up into the statue’s face as they passed by. Eamon Ashworth had died fighting Fabian Fenhallow’s nightmares. Some stories about them said they were best friends; others said mortal enemies. Emery wasn’t entirely convinced Fabian would have made a statue to Eamon he could see from his bedroom window if they were enemies, but Fenhallows were weird like that. Jacqueline flipped the statue the casual bird as she strode past.

Joel’s light rippled over the manor’s siding and flashed off the windows. According to campus legend, the manor was haunted—not by ghosts, but by nightmares. Nightmares of the students about what might live there, trapped inside the manor’s walls by the gravity of the Dream.

The only nightmare Emery knew of that lurked around this area was the Wilmark Fox. No one had ever proven that anything lived in Fenhallow Manor, but it wouldn’t come as a surprise if someday, something did.

The stained glass in the double front doors depicted the closed eye of Hypnos on a background of blood-red poppies. They weren’t locked—the doors to Fenhallow Manor were never locked, for fear that someone would try to smash the stained glass to get in—and they led into a wide foyer dominated by two sets of stairs twisted into a double helix. Both were made of wood and expertly crafted. Inlaid into one balustrade were designs of gold; into the other, whorls of silver. The floor was a checkerboard and archways led into different wings of the house.

Here, the decorations were subtle enough that Emery couldn’t tell if the cobwebs along the ceiling were real or fake. Extra furniture had been brought in to make the house seem truly abandoned, though every piece lacked the layer of dust that covered the floors and windowsills. On the far side of the foyer was the door to the ballroom, and above its closed doors hung a long purple-and-white banner that said Happy Fenhalloween.

Jacqueline slapped Lewis’s hand away from a lamp switch on a nearby table. “No lights in the entryway,” she said. “If anyone sees a light on through the front of the house, they’ll come to investigate.”

“Right,” Joel said, “Which is why we’re going to the ballroom.”

He led the way past the double staircase, through the unlocked ballroom doors, made of oak and carved with Hypnos’s eye. Renovations had begun, stopped, and begun again at least three times on the ballroom alone; the intricacy of the flooring, the long windows lined along the north wall, and the chandelier that hung from the ceiling had all caused problems for the contractors the administration brought in to restore it. Despite their apparent hatred of dreamseekers, the State had declared Fenhallow Manor a landmark to be restored to historical accuracy. And that meant the entire floor of the ballroom had to be torn out and replaced, piece by painstaking wooden piece, into a closed Hypnos eye so large it looked like an inverted sunrise, surrounded by wreaths of dark poppies. The windows glinted in the night, framed by heavy red curtains that draped from the ceiling. Joel turned his flashlight up so the beam would shatter through the crystals of the grand chandelier above their heads. More furniture and refreshment tables had been brought in and set up along the east wall, along with two sets of speakers and cleared area with an amplifier.

Joel paused on the amplifier. “Are we actually getting a live band this year?”

“Yes, and you’d know that if you paid attention in any meetings,” Jacqueline said. She grabbed Joel’s backpack and yanked him backward, unzipping the largest pocket to rummage through his things. “What else did you bring for light? We can’t turn on the whole ballroom.”

Joel had brought a small camping lantern that usually sat on top of the television in his room.They set it up in the middle of the floor and gathered around it. Jacqueline reached back into Joel’s bag and pulled out a library book and her purple notebook. She flipped through the pages until she found the one she wanted, and shoved it close to the light.

“Here’s everything I have so far about opening gateways. It’s not much, but I compared with Wes’s notes from your dream theory class, and it’s more than Lenton has been teaching you.”

“Are we sure this is safe?” Kris said, looking at Emery. “Are you sure this is what you want to do? What if you get inside and something goes wrong again? We can’t come after you,” she motions between herself, Lewis, and Joel, “and even if we could, we wouldn’t know something was wrong.”

“I don’t see many other options at this point,” Emery said. “If we even manage to open a gateway, we can do one quick in and out just to make sure we know how it works, so we don’t get stuck. Then it’s just a recon mission. We’re trying to find out if this thing even exists, and if it does, then I have to decide if I’m going to try to kill it there, or try to get a little stronger and do it later.”

She wanted to kill it as soon as she saw it. Shoot it clean through the head, though she had an inkling it wouldn’t be as simple as that. But when she thought of it, of her dead doppelgänger and her Insanity Prime cleared, it wasn’t herself she saw relieved. It was Edgar.

Edgar wouldn’t have to worry. He already had anxiety problems, not to mention anything else that might be going on in his head; the sooner she got all this taken care of, the sooner she could make sure Edgar’s world was as stable and safe as possible. Nothing to disrupt him; nothing to send him toward a fiery trainwreck of an Insanity Prime.

“Let’s go back,” Emery said. “We have work to do.”

~

“So, I think it’s different for dreamseekers, right?” Jacqueline stood in the middle of the ballroom floor, not far from the light, hands held up in front of her. “We don’t have weapons, so we open gateways with our hands.”

“Klaus opened his gateway with his hands,” Emery said.

“I think his hands are his weapons,” Wes said, making claws with his fingers.

“Right, so,” Jacqueline went on, “I only found resources for dreamhunters, obviously, because they hate me here. For you all, it says you have to sense the veil of the Dream laying over the waking world. Like a layer of smog. You have to block out other sensations and distractions so that you feel only that.” She pushed her flattened hand into the air before her. “Then you pierce the veil. All the imagining and visualizing before this is so that you can actually mentally bring the Dream and the waking world closer in that one spot, I guess sort of like making a dreamform. But instead of pulling a piece of the Dream into the waking world, you just reel it in close and pierce through it so that you can tear a hole open between the two. Make sense?”

Emery felt the beginnings of a headache taking shape in her left temple. “If this is like making a dreamform, I’m already screwed.”

“And you’re going to keep being screwed if you don’t get up and try,” Jacqueline snapped. She had both hands pressed together in front of her stomach now, and she focused on the empty space before her.

Emery and Wes, weapons out, took up positions on either side of her to attempt the same while Joel, Lewis, and Kris looked through the book Jacqueline had brought for helpful tips. After a few minutes of flitting around the room and inspecting all the decorations, Ridley joined them in trying to open a gateway, though where they were still focusing on concentrating the Dream in one spot, Ridley kept thrusting her double icepick hammers out in the air before her and saying, “Maybe this time.”

Emery could feel the Dream around them like a heavy layer of atmosphere, but when she tried to draw it toward herself, the way she would to make a dreamform, the headache grew worse, first a squeezing discomfort and then, as she tried harder, a sharp needling pain. She felt Joel’s eyes on her but didn’t turn to look; looking at him would make her want to stop trying. It would make her feel like she was good enough just as she was, and right now that wasn’t true.

“Oh!”

Jacqueline froze. She’d thrust her hands out into the air and stopped, and though they were still pressed tightly together, her fingers now seemed to wave in the air, as if distorted. She pushed them a little farther forward, and the distortion crept up to her wrists.

“Open it!” said Joel.

With a deep breath and a snap of her arms, Jacqueline turned her hands away from each other and tore the air apart. It was like she’d drawn the curtains open on one of the ballroom’s windows. Reality split and pulled back with her hands, and when her arms were fully apart, it hung open on its own. Darkness and the clawing pressure of the Dream emanated from the opening, and on either side stood statues of rearing horses with wreaths of poppies hanging from their necks.

Jacqueline stepped back. Joel, Kris, and Lewis hesitantly got to their feet. The inside of the gateway wasn’t completely dark; at its heart undulated a strange purple light, like lightning inside a storm cloud.

“Damn, Jackie,” Emery said, “and they didn’t even teach you that.”

“No, they didn’t.” Vicious pride took over Jacqueline’s face. “Now, to close it…it’s sort of like…” She reached her arms out again and touched both statues with the tips of her fingers. Then, concentrating, she brought her hands back together. With a clap, the statues vanished and the dark portal of the gateway rushed into a center point between Jacqueline’s hands, disappearing.

Ridley began applauding. Kris and Joel joined in a moment later.

“How do you close it once you go through, though?” Emery said. “When we went through Klaus’s, we fell through the darkness for a while before we ended up in the Dream.”

“The book says the gateways close themselves once the person who makes them goes through to the other side.” Lewis was bent over the textbook again, squinting close at the lettering under the camping light.

“We should keep practicing,” Wes said. “I think I was close, and even if we can open it on this side, we don’t know if the process feels the same on the Dream side.”

Emery rubbed her forehead. The headache faded to a dull throb. She hadn’t been at all close; the Dream resisted being pulled closer to her, though she had sensed it coalescing in front of Jacqueline and Wes. The entire school would howl with laughter if they saw her right now. She couldn’t shoot things, she couldn’t dreamform, she couldn’t open gateways. Queen Emery, outshined by a non-dreamhunter and the lowest-ranked member of Class Eighteen.

As soon as Emery had the thought, she bit down on it. Their abilities weren’t mutually exclusive; just because Wes and Jacqueline were good at things and worked hard didn’t mean she wasn’t, or didn’t. And the two of them didn’t deserve to have their skills taken away just because she didn’t possess them, too. She was supposed to be good at things, and the fact it wasn’t true wasn’t their faults.

“Wes is right,” she said. “Keep try—”

A scream ripped through the night. They all jumped at the same time, turning toward the manor’s foyer.

“Some asshole—” Joel started.

“—what if it’s not?” Kris said. “No one’s supposed to come into the woods this late at night now, because the Fox wakes up the day division students!”

They all stopped and listened. One scream died into silence, only to be replaced with another scream, closer. Something crashed to the ground outside the ballroom doors.

Guns out, hair raised, Emery hissed, “Stay here!” to the others and crept into the foyer. Only Wes didn’t listen; hammer out, he stuck close on her heels. Their armor formed over their clothes, and Emery thanksed Hypnos that the armor, at least, she had spent so much time learning to form that it came without a headache.

They peeked through the ballroom doors. On the far side of the foyer’s twisted staircases, a shadowed figure huddled near the entrance, hissing under their breath.

At least as tall as Emery.

Definitely female.

And reeking of the Dream.

(Next time on The Children of Hypnos —> Is That The Top Of The Rollercoaster I See?)

[gethealthy18-blog]

30 Stunning Long Dark Brown Hairstyles

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/getting-healthy/getting-healthy-women/30-stunning-long-dark-brown-hairstyles/

30 Stunning Long Dark Brown Hairstyles

Anjali Sayee Hyderabd040-395603080 August 8, 2019

Brown hair looks spectacular. It looks shiny and adds more dimension to your hair. Styling it in new and unique ways might come across as hard, given how common brown hair is. So, I’m here to help you style those long flowy chocolate-colored tresses. Scroll down to check out my top 30 long brown hairstyles.

30 Stunning Long Dark Brown Hairstyles

1. Brown Layers

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If you have brown hair, one of the best ways to flaunt it is to get it cut in some layers and curl your hair. If you have a square or diamond-shaped face, your facial outline may appear a bit harsh. Soften it with layers and flowy curls.

2. Dark Chocolate Brown

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Chocolate just makes everything better. Getting over a break-up? Have some chocolate ice cream. Sleepy day at work? Drink some hot chocolate! Why not take that gooey richness to your locks? Add a nice chocolate coat over your brown locks and behold its glossy sheen!

3. Golden Brown

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If you are looking to spice up your medium to long brown hair, look no further. Add some blonde hints to your brunette locks. It may look a bit ginger, but you can see the blonde shine through.

4. Straight Long Brown

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Katie Holmes is the poster child for brown hair! She has stunning fine brown hair. If you have long hair like her, take a leaf out of her lookbook. Add some layers towards the ends of your hair. This will make your fine locks look thicker.

5. Balayage

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Balayage is a hair coloring technique. Instead of using a brush to color your hair, use your hands. This gives it a more natural and flowy feel. To blend the balayage seamlessly into your natural hair color, begin coloring it from midway down your hair.

6. Sun-Kissed Hair

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The world is going crazy for the perfect sun-kissed look. Sun-kissed brown hair has a touch of blonde in it. And I think we have a winner here! Light and dark brown hues come together to create this beautifully sunlit hair color on Keira Knightley.

7. Blowout

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Blowouts are not just for the blonde ladies! Kate Beckinsale shows us how surreal brown hair can look. And all you need is a blowdryer and a round brush to create this look. The side parting and the layers are the icing on this brunette cake.

8. Caramel Highlights

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Chocolate and caramel go hand in hand, so why not take that combo to your hair? If you have brown hair and want to jazz it up, add in some caramel highlights that are the same undertone as your hair and skin.

9. Mocha Highlights

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One mocha, please! Mocha is a mix of espresso, hot milk, and chocolate. Not only does it taste delicious, but it is also perfect for your tresses! This muted brown shade will bring out your eyes. It also softens a harsh face shape.

10. Long Wavy Brown Hair

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Zooey Deschanel is my favorite girl-next-door! Style your brown locks in some waves to flaunt them in all their glory. Keep your hair in the curling iron for just five seconds to get natural-looking waves. You don’t want them to curl it in ringlets, but make it flow like a waterfall. 

Fun Fact!

Did you know that brown hair is not the most common hair color? It’s black!

  11. V Layers

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Want to really jazz up your brown locks? All you need is a simple V-cut! The V-cut gives your layers that tapered look that makes it look like an inverted triangle. It makes your hair look more voluminous and thick.

12. Waist-Length Layers

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Do you have waist-long hair like Deepika Padukone? If so, flaunt it like the goddess that you are. Style it in some small waves. Lighten it a from a few inches away from the roots. It will make your eyes pop, even if they are brown!

13. Face-Framing Highlights

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Highlights that are added near the face to help define it are called face-framing highlights. They are picked based on your color preference, skin surface tone, and undertone. They can make a wide face look slender, and a short face look long. Is it magic or science? No, it’s just a haircut!

14. Caramel Highlights With Layers

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If you don’t want to bleach your locks to add in caramel highlights, just blend them in with your brown tresses. It will give you this deep strawberry shade. Cut your hair in some layers, and you’re ready to slay!

15. Cinnamon Balayage

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Just a hint of cinnamon can change your whole look. If you have a chiseled jawline, opt for a cinnamon balayage. This will draw attention to the lower half of your face and accentuate it.

16. Dark Brown Beachy Waves

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Looking for the brown version of beach waves? Sarah Hyland knows how to do it! Instead of big curls, opt for medium-sized waves. They will make your hair look thicker and fuller.

17. Hollywood Curls

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Hollywood curls look stunning on long brunette hair. You will need a blowdryer, a round brush, and hair mousse to achieve this look. Apply the mousse to your hair, then roll it in sections with the brush. Use the blowdryer to form those curls.

18. Long Shag Cut

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The shag cut is not just for short hair. If you have long hair, getting a shag cut can bring out your face shape and features. It can also show off your hair color and volume. A long shaggy look, like this one sported by Salma Hayek, will work wonderfully with thick hair.

19. Sun-Kissed Highlights

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Add some blonde highlights to your brown hair to give it that sun-kissed touch. Don’t add highlights throughout all your hair, just to parts of it. This makes it look like sunlight is hitting your hair naturally. 

Fun Fact!

Brunette is the French feminine word meaning ‘brown-haired.’ Brunet is the male word. Remember not to mix up those spellings!

20. Babylights

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Babylights are subtle highlights that are done on fine hair. They are used to add dimension to your tresses. They also help in framing your face, but are not as loud as highlights. They are also low maintenance compared to highlights.

21. Wavy Brunette

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Waves are a great way to flaunt brown locks. This is because they add volume and bounce to your tresses. Make sure that the waves start from the middle of your hair. When you place your hair in the curling iron or straightener, make sure it’s spread out and flat.

22. Blonde Highlights

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Adding blonde highlights to brown hair is a great way to create some contrast. The lighter shade at the bottom helps soften a sharp jawline while drawing attention to it. The darker roots make your face look longer.

23. Auburn Highlights

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Auburn brown hair is truly divine. It adds a shine to your brown locks. Opt for a red that is the same undertone but a few shades lighter than your natural brown hair color. This hair look is sure to make you look like a bombshell.

24. Combed-Back Hair

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Looking for a hairstyle that’s perfect for a formal event? Opt for this stunning mousse-d waves look. Once you’ve styled hair your in waves, comb it behind your shoulders and set it in place with hair pins and hairspray.

25. Partial Highlights

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Partial highlights are just done on the layers, not throughout all your hair. You can have fun contrasting layers, or go for simple face-framing layers like Jennifer Garner. You can see that she has opted for layers near her face that draw attention to her features.

26. Glamorous Curls

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If you’ve always had straight hair, styling it in curls can give you the makeover you desire. Go the Zooey way and opt for piled-on curls. They bring out your brown tresses as well as make your facial features pop.

27. Dimensional Brown

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A dimensional color job is a brilliant way to jazz up those long brown tresses. It adds depth to your hair and makes it look thicker. It also helps in framing your face. You can opt for highlights or a full ombre.

28. Brown Hair With A Ginger Hint

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Ginger hair is quite the fad these days. Why not try it? Red and orange blend beautifully with brown. It adds a stunning gloss to your locks and makes them look surreal.

29. Long Curls

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Lorde stunned us with her voice and her hair. Her deep dark brown hair is almost as beautiful as her songs. Add some light brown babylights to your long brown curls and pair the look with dark makeup.

30. Coily Brown Hair

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Keri Russell floored everyone with her start as Felicity. But when she cut her brown curls off, it made headlines. Since then, she has gone back to her long brown locks and it looks stunning.

Those were my top 30 picks for hairstyles for long brown hair. Personally, I loved Deepika’s Vanity Fair look. Which one did you like? Comment below and let me know!

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Source: https://www.stylecraze.com/articles/long-dark-brown-hairstyles/

[mxladymorgan]

♡ @pilawforhire submitted; reply under the break

To repent for the insensitive (and heartless?) churro incident, Law booked a room for the both of them (of course the both of them, unless Morgan wanted to be alone that night) in a modest hotel on the island. (The hotel wasn’t exactly dingy or sleazy but it was no luxurious ski resort either. Unfortunately, they had yet to replenish their resources. Maybe they could upgrade their room after stalking some rich folks and employing some improper tactics…) 

Either way, Law invited Morgan to take a bath together. First, he told her to wait outside the bathroom while he undressed and prepared the bath. “Give me some privacy,” he had said. “I’ll call you when I’m ready.” Thereafter, Law made an attempt at a bubble bath by emptying all the bottles of shampoo and soap into the small tub. 

“You can come in now,” Law called out minutes later.

When Morgan entered the bathroom, Law was already seated in the tub. He looked like a giant sitting in a fluffy white cloud that covered up his privates. Red petals floated around him, courtesy of the fake roses he’d taken from the desk. There were no candles, but the lighting was dim, either by poor design or lack of maintenance. 

Law raised his leg high, straightened it, and thudded his foot down on the edge of the tub.

“I was thinking of having a shave,” he said, stroking his fingers up his calf. He’d never tried shaving his legs before but Morgan’s shaved legs felt exquisitely smooth that he knew he had to try it. “Unless you’d prefer me hairy and unshaven.” He was willing to consult her advice for once. He doubted she’d like hairy legs though, given her revulsion towards his furry underwear.

“And I prepared that.” He gestured to the sink, where he had placed a large tub of honey and a whole cucumber. He’d heard both had moisturising properties. Law had never moisturised before either, but that was how couples bonded, wasn’t it? By shaving and moisturising together? Or by shaving and moisturising each other? His parents had never done that. Not to his knowledge. But the idea of drizzling honey over Morgan’s smooth-shaven limbs sounded like a delectable idea.

Morgan was not *that* upset with Law for the churro incident. True, his unloving attack on the treat Morgan coveted so had been a blow so big it was nothing short of betrayal… but at the same time, it was too small a thing for her to stay mad at him. Law himself would agree he’d done worse to her, willingly or unconsciously, and not only then, he’d made Morgan cry legitimate tears before.

In short, Morgan was not upset at Law but there was a bit of fun in pretending she was just to see what way he’d evaluate as appropriate to redeem himself. Since the man could use practice in the apologetic department, why not provide him with an opportunity to do something nice and romantic?

Yes… Morgan’s hope was foolishly high.

The first step was a classic of couple’s reconciliation. When Law announced he and she would spend the night in a place that was not the Tang, the butterflies in Morgan’s stomach took off to flutter in joyful circles around its inside. A night just for the two of them! One where Morgan would not need to worry about being heard by nineteen other humans and a polar mink. (Yes, she did think of the submarine’s acoustics!)

Then, a bitter thought caused the butterflies to faint, cascading down to the pit of Morgan’s stomach - if Law was choosing the place for the night, how optimistic could she be? Morgan could only hope Law would have the sense not to book one of those places people visited just for sex… There was cheap and then there was shady. No literal roach motels and no booty call rent beds!

The place was nice enough - thank God for it! - which did not stop Morgan from using Law’s time alone in the bathroom to rub both pillowcases with wet wipes and to spray her perfume into the air. If the place did not need that extra spritz of vanilla, orange and jasmine already, it was bound to, Morgan was sure of that, if Law was playing king in the porcelain throne. (Again, thank God there was an en-suite bathroom for them to use, for Morgan would refuse to cross a corridor in little more than her nightie just to pee… But should Morgan really be thankful for this cruel proximity of Law’s toxicity?)

Why would Law call her when he was ready, though? He would not ask her to wipe… would he? No, no! The sleazy motel would come quicker than that.

Inside the bathroom… a freak show.

A classic scene of couple’s romance, this… vision might have worked better should the roles be inverted. Plus the lighting did nothing to colour the scene sensual. If anything, it was a flicker away from giving Law the hues of a psychopath… and then Morgan might actually visit the corridor in her nightie as she ran for her life in tonight’s horror film.

The fake petals contributed to this image of hell, as though they were embryonic hearts floating in the psycho’s bath water. Gruesome as it was, this and Law’s proud display of his hairy leg were nothing compared to the honey and cucumber.

Morgan felt an internal shiver at the vegetable. She knew there were people who procured some… adult fun in objects obviously not intended to be used recreationally. Should Law suggest something horrid, she would flee without wasting another second. It was enough to cause the lady’s sphincter to shut tight! There would be no abnormal inserting tonight or on any other night!

Law’s explanation, however, made sense. There was logic against this backdrop of bizarre. It was true cucumber and honey were good for the skin but that by itself did not explain exactly what Law had in mind. Did he think it would suffice to rub the cucumber along his leg? To snack on it? Was the honey meant to be applied to the flesh once it was free of hair or used as though it were wax itself?

“Honey…” Morgan uttered, herself not sure if she was greeting the man or stating the contents of that tub before her eyes. “Your legs are fine the way they are.” It was not like Law’s last name was Bigfoot…. a little hair never hurt no one.

On second thought, was there not sweetness in this atrocity? Here he was, trying to stage a sensual scene with what was available and wanting to know how she felt about a part of his anatomy, showing flexibility and willingness to have it changed if it would please her.

With this realisation came a smile. Morgan approached the bathtub, tying her hair in a bun on her short way there.

“You don’t have to shave your legs… However, I reckon I am not too hot on that stubble. It is scratchy and not in a nice way.” If Law was smart enough, which he undoubtedly was, only perhaps not in intimate affairs, he would understand that while his goatee and sideburns were scratchy alright, they were so in a way that pleased her. 

“Plus…” Morgan made a grab for the honey and placed it in Law’s hand, eyes almost daring him to try and let go of it. “It would be a pity, don’t you agree? to make a waste of this honey. You know I love honey.” She meant consuming it but if Law’s whipped out something kinky, there would be no harm done… provided the cucumber was out of the way.

Slow like the golden fluid, Morgan slipped out of her clothes and got in the tub with Law. One thing was for sure: this place was no ski resort with a tub so big even Bepo could join in (perish the thought, though!) and Morgan understood how small it was when Law’s knees almost hit her chest as she sat down. Someone would have to keep their legs apart and out and flood the bathroom.

Still, Morgan was ever decided to have romance in her life and so willed a sultry compliment out, for the sake of Law’s best efforts. 

“…and I love my honey doctor too.”