#ironworkers bridge

[farsight-the-char]

Fucking Snow!!!

My brother and i are both concerned how this impact our morning route to work.

[architectureforsuicides]

Fringe. S2/E09: “Snakehead” (Paul Holahan, 2009) Ironworkers Memorial Bridge / Ironworkers Memorial Second Narrows Crossing / Second Narrows Bridge Vancouver, British Columbia (Canada) Bridge over the Burrard Inlet Type: truss bridge.

[budapestbug]

Art Nouveau wrought iron Peacock Gate of Gresham Palace Budapest (today's Four Seasons Hotel Budapest) by the Chain Bridge. Ironwork of outstanding quality. Peacocks (feathers and the full birds) have been widely used in Hungarian (folk) art since the 18th century and probably earlier.

[vmartist]

Leon Kennedy x Luis Serra x Male Reader:

•tornado warnings•

Content Warnings: Spoilers for both RE4 Remake and Separate Ways DLC. Author rambling at the end. Minimal editing, apologies for any grammar and spelling errors. Anyway, hope you enjoy<3

You and Leon had been assigned this mission to find and protect the president’s daughter, Ashley Graham.

“We should split up from here. You stay here and see what you can find here and I’ll go on ahead.” Leon said as he looked to you.

In your mind you made a million protests as to why you shouldn’t split up but… “Yeah okay.” You shrugged as you stayed in the center of the small village. What was left of the village anyway, all that was left in its wake was carnage.

As you walked around you couldn’t shake the feeling you had before. Everyone had told you not to take the mission with him. This mission wasn’t a choice by him, so obviously he’d act like this. Before you could ponder some more, your radio beeped. You picked it up and listened.

“I need you to provide some back up. Up ahead where I was up from.” He muttered into his radio. You answered back a confirmation and quickly made your way towards him.

A quick pass through the farm could tell you he wasn’t here. After crossing the bridge and through the tunnel you stumbled upon the lakeside with a couple houses. “There’s no sign of any life…what reinforcement could I provide?” You grumbled to yourself as you kept moving forward.

Before you started to search the houses you heard one of the doors bust open. A tall man in a black coat was holding two men in his arms. You quickly ducked and hid in the grass. He placed them on a boat with another villager who paled in comparison in terms of size. The villager rowed the boat further down into the village before landing at a dock and with some help, dragged them somewhere.

You quickly stand and make sure to not get yourself caught as you re-enter the village and make your way to where you’d seen them. In your way was a door that wouldn’t budge. Off to the side were some rocks that didn’t look difficult to climb. After climbing the rocks and jumping over the blocked door you ran down into an ironworks. The exit of the ironworks had been barred, after unlocking it you run deep into the ironworks.

Before you could head further you saw a man sprinting past you. He completely bumped into you, almost knocking you over. “Excuse you, asshole!” You shouted.

He turned around with a grin and finger gunned at you. “Perdon, amigo!” He winked before running away towards where you came from.

As you turned around you saw Leon walking up towards you. He was currently talking to Hunnigan, he quickly noticed you and ended the transmission.

“What happened to your jacket?” You questioned while pointing at him.

He puts his hands on his hips and shrugged. “Aw I dunno…it was getting kinda hot and I needed to cool down.” He says this while being completely stoic.

“Okay, gonna ignore your sarcasm and move on. Who was that guy that just ran off?”

Leon stares past you for a second before focusing back to you. “Said his name was Luis Serra. He’s got intel on where Ashley is being held. C’mon, follow me.”

You reach his side and notice he’s empty handed. “Here.” You extend your gun to him and smile. His eyes flick from yours down to the gun, a small smile settles on his lips before he pushes the gun back into your chest. Before you can protest he grabs the knife from your holster.

“I do much better with this instead but…thank you.” His gaze lingers before he turns and walks forward. You watch him for a second before blinking back into focus and following him. “I need you to to turn this valve, it’s connected to that door.” He says while pointing to an iron door.

You nod and hold the valve for him as he sprints back around and quickly gears back up. “You can let go now. I can unlock this door from the inside.” He states as he unlatches the door and walks back to you.

The two of you walk outside and look around. Leon stretches while looking to you. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind…” He mutters.

You blink a couple times and look away. “It’s really nothing.” Leon tries to pry but you change the topic. “Anyway, what was that intel Luis had on Ashley?”

His mouth was slightly agape but he shut it and cleared his throat. “She was moved to the church. I’m assuming the same one from where the bell was rung earlier.”

“We’d better not wait then.” You turn and move ahead. Leon watches you for a second before running by your side.

“You gonna tell me what’s on your mind? I know something is bothering you…Is it Ashley?” You turn and shake your head.

“I know you’re trying to help but I’d rather you just focus on the mission.” You mumbled as you held your gun close.

A dry chuckle escapes him as he shakes his head. “I can focus on the mission and my partner’s wellbeing.” He nudges you with his shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me now. But whatever it is, don’t let it eat away at you.” His eyes watch you carefully as his lips curve down into a soft frown.

Your shoulders relax and you nod. “Yeah…okay.” His gaze lingers on you briefly before he jogs ahead.

As the afternoon slipped into dusk you found yourselves at the lake. But to cross it, the ragged boat needed…“It needs gasoline…” Leon mutters as he stands.

“I think I saw an opening on the way down here. Let’s go check there.” You point behind you and approach a ladder before looking back at him.

“Good eye.” He smiles before climbing after you.

As you enter the entrance and onto the dock you notice how it creaks under barely any pressure. “This doesn’t feel secure…” You say as you turn to face Leon. But before he can say anything the wood crumbles and collapses under you both. You both fall into the water below, tangled in each other. Leon quickly stands and shakes the water from his hair, in a similar fashion to how a dog would it’s fur coat when wet…

You slowly stand and look down. “There’s snakes here too…” Leon shook his head and pointed ahead.

“Snakes are the least of our worries.” He pulls out his pistol and reloads it before waving you over. You follow behind him and reach the house that has the gasoline.

“Here, let’s hurry back…” Leon mumbles as he hands you the gas. You grab it and follow behind and fuel the boat.

As you both cross the giant lake, a large shadowy figure swam beneath the boat.

“What was that?” You question while looking around. The boat rocks and knocks you both down as you scramble to control the boat again. Something on the boat gets snagged and you fall back as the boat begins being dragged by force.

Leon begins grabbing and launching harpoons at the lake monster. You follow suit and after several dozen harpoons, finally defeat the monster. But before you can start the boat again Leon begins coughing.

“Leon are you okay?” You ask as you grab his shoulder. When you peer over you see a splotch of blood over his gloved palm. “What the fuck?” You muttered. Suddenly his eyes roll to the back of his head and he collapses in your arms. “Wake up! Leon!” You shake him but he’s not responding.

You check his pulse and breathing. His pulse is a bit abnormal but nothing bad and he’s still breathing. He’s just passed out…you quickly start the boat and reach the other side of the lake as the dusk slips into midnight. You drag him out from the boat and into a cabin, in the cabin you lie him down on the table and call Hunnigan.

“Something’s wrong with him…I think he might’ve been infected with the same parasite as the villagers.” You say as you pace around the room. “But I’m sure that researcher…Luis I think his name was? He might be able to help.” You muttered before ending the transmission.

Your eyes flick back to your partner, his chest rises and falls as he takes deep, heavy, and labored breaths. Suddenly he jolts awake while clutching his chest and frantically looking around. His gaze softens once he sees your face.

“Sorry…how long was I out for?” He looks to you with a frown.

“Just a couple hours. I’m glad your okay though! But um…we’re you having a nightmare?” You muttered while watching him carefully.

He shifts uncomfortably before sitting up and shaking his head. “It wasn’t anything…I’m glad you were here..” He whispers as his eyes flick to meet your gaze and he smiles softly.

You smile back and shift your gaze. “I don’t wanna rush you…if you need more time to rest then I don’t mind waiting for you.”

He shakes his head and rests his hand on your shoulder and gets down. “I’ll be fine. We should hurry and find Ashley.” His eyes linger on yours before his hand falls to his side and he walks ahead.

“You’re…infected right?” You muttered. Leon turns to face you as his expression strains. “Why didn’t you tell me? Your eyes…and your black veins…it was obvious yet you didn’t tell me…” You mumbled while approaching him.

He sighs and places a hand on his forehead. “I didn’t want you to worry about me. I’m fine. I know I should be taking my own advice…”

“I have an idea on how to help. Luis is a researcher right? He has to know about this parasite and how to suppress it or even kill it. I was thinking…” You slowly lose your voice and trail off. Leon seems to understand what you’re implying.

“Go. I’ll be okay.” He waves his radio. “Stay in touch, alright? We’ll catch up later.” He says before walking off.

You walk back to the dock and head back to the village on boat. Thoughts swim throughout your mind as to what could happen. But you sank them deep into the back of your head and pushed forward. After tracing back to the farm you noticed the house past the bridge. There was a large gate but you climbed past the cobble wall and landed on your feet.

The first thing you noticed was the lights were lit. When you entered there weren’t any villagers inhabiting. The house was cluttered but aside from that it was empty. Climbing to the second floor showed that there really was no one here…then why was it lit? Staying here seemed like a waste of time but before you left, the front door opened.

You quickly hid behind the staircase and watched carefully. It was Luis…he was huffing when he began backing away from the door. He pulls out a radio and begins talking to someone on the other end.

“Ada. You’re okay! I’ve been waiting and, uh, you’re still coming, right?” He mumbles.

Ada? That’s someone I don’t know…This Ada person replies seemingly annoyed. Before he replies. “Got it. See you soon, ciao.”

You approach him from behind and press your gun into his back.

“Luis, is it?” You question as you gently nudged the barrel into his back.

He chuckles to himself while raising his hands in the air. “It is…and you are?”

“Fed up and need answers. Now, you’re gonna tell me something…” Your brows slowly knit together in a scowl as you stare at him. “I know you’re a researcher for Umbrella.”

He quickly cuts in. “Was. I’m actually retired from that life—

“The specifics don’t matter. What matters is that you know how to remove those parasites. Correct?”

Luis turns his head. “Eyes forward. Answer my question.” You muttered while pressing your gun further.

He sighs. “Yes I know how to remove them and I’ll do you one better. I even know where to.”

You smile slowly and retract your gun and put it in your holster. “Perfect. Thank you for your cooperation, Luis.”

He grumbles. “You mean coercion?”

“Same difference. Anyway—

Luis stops you and grabs your arm. “You hear that?”

Through the rain and thunder you can hear chanting. You both step outside and push the gate open and see Leon and Ashley sprinting across the bridge. Luis runs forward and begins shouting.

“Hey! Over here!” He waves then over before running back to the house entrance and peering out from the frame.

Leon and Ashley sprint over the bridge and run past the gate when you help Leon shut the gate. “Come on!” Luis says.

Afterwards you both enter inside when Leon begins to approach Luis. “You!” He corners him against a wall and pushes him back with the side of his balled up fist. You walk over to Leon’s side and grab his shoulder.

“Ease up.” You mutter while locking your eyes with his. He sighs and let’s his arm fall back to his side. Luis’s eyes wander to your face as his lips slowly curve into a smile. He then looks past you.

“Hey I see you found your “missing señorita..””

Ashley walks over. “The “señorita” has a name, and it’s Ashley…And you are?”

Luis brings his brows down to his eyes before wiggling them back up. “Name’s Luis. Encatado.” He does so in a way one could only describe as an attempt at looking suave. And it wasn’t a bad attempt.

Leon huffs. “Great. We all have names. Now then—Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

Luis dryly chuckles. “Very good questions, unfortunately…” He then turns his head to the side, looking out the window. Everyone then turns their attention to the window before Leon turns to Ashley. “Hide. Now!”

Luis walks over to a fallen closet. “In that case, here, help me.” He waves Leon over.

They lift the closet up. “Ashley quick! Over here!” Leon shouts as he motions his head towards the small opening. “Go!” He huffs out.

Ashley looks at him concerned but crawls down into the space anyway. Once she’s in they let go of the closet and walk towards the window. Leon and Luis pull out their respective guns as they exchange looks.

Luis eyes flick between you and Leon as his lips curve into a smirk. “Okay. It’s game time.”

Leon rushes over to push a closet to create a barricade. You run over to another window and place the boards up. Leon then comes from behind you and taps your shoulder.

“It’s good to see you again…I was worried.” He smiles shyly. You shake your head while smiling back.

“I should be the one who’s worried. But don’t worry, Luis is gonna help us.” You say while looking back at Luis.

Luis puts up more boards against the windows. “Hordes of them against the three of us. Oh and let’s not forget—this mob is made up of monsters.” He says while looking at you both.

Leon then pulls something out from his pockets and holds his hand out. “Here’s some ammo and herb mixtures.”

You hesitantly take them from him. “Thanks…I promise I’ll pay back the favor.”

The sound of the windows breaking open stops you both as you ready your weapons. You walk over to one of the tables and kick it to the floor and kneel down while aiming. “I’ve got your backs, just make sure they can’t push us back!” You shout as they nod at you.

Eventually some of the boards came down and they started pouring in slowly. Leon pushes back with his shotgun while Luis has trouble with his handgun. You turn your attention and help Luis push back.

“They keep coming!” Leon grunts as he fired another shot.

Luis slowly backs away next to you as they close in. You both shoot away trying to thin out the crowd. It’s enough to create an opening as you rush over and board the windows. Then Leon begins grunting as one of the villagers grappled him. Luis is quick to save him as he plants a bullet into his kneecap.

“Pay attention!” He shouts as fires another shot into the villager beside him.

You run back over to the table and kneel down again. When you ready your shot a pair of hands chokes you from behind. You gasp for air as you attempt to break free when Leon and Luis turn to you quickly. Leon shoots behind Luis while Luis shoots the villager choking you.

“Bingo! Haha!” Luis laughs as he blows the smoke off his gun.

Because everyone’s attention had been scattered they were able to push you back. Luis runs upstairs and calls for you both “Let’s go upstairs! Come on!”

You both follow behind him and Leon kicks a ladder down before grabbing more ammo.

“I’ve got something for you two, catch!” Luis yells as he tosses ammo boxes to you and Leon.

You both nod in acknowledgement and keep shooting before a loud noise bellows from below. The wooden steps creak as loud footsteps thud, they sound closer and closer until a cow head peers around. One of the more brutal villagers wore a decapitated and hollowed out cow head as a mask. It held a giant sledgehammer as he stomped closer.

Leon slowly backs away. “Give me a break already…” He mutters.

“What is that?” You mumbled as you stood next to Leon. He turns to you and frowns.

“That thing is gonna swing it’s hammer until it hits something or gets tired…be careful.” He murmured before aiming his shotgun straight at it.

You aim your gun as well. “Luis! Let’s focus the big one down!” You call to him as you tilt your head.

He laughs and joins next to you while aiming with one hand. “Good idea, señor!”

Together you all unload your guns into the brute. Once it staggers, both Leon and you rush to it and kick it in the abdomen. It sends it against a wall where it’s stunned once again. Leon pulls out his knife and stabs it through the bottom of its head before yanking it back out. A stream of blood spills out before it collapses harshly.

Ashley then comes from a door behind the three of you. “Leon! This way, hurry!”

Everyone turns around and darts out the back door, following Ashley out as more villagers pile into the house. After running under a gate Leon turns to see a villager behind everyone. He shoots the chain that holds the gate and rushes further. The gate crushes the villager and Leon walks by Ashley’s side. Everyone is panting and catching their breath before Ashley begins coughing up blood.

“Ashley!?” Leon looks down at her hand and then at Luis.

Luis grabs her hand and looks up. “Is this the first time you’ve coughed up blood like this?”

She nods and Leon steps forward. “You wanna start explaining?”

Luis takes a step back and looks between them. “The cough, the blood—it’s caused by something called a…“plaga.”” He mutters.

You turn to Leon and Ashley. “A parasite. Whatever those villagers have…you guys probably have as well.” You mumble.

Luis nods. “Yes, but these symptoms are only the beginning.”

“I don’t wanna become like them.” Ashley whines as she looks at Leon.

Luis walks slightly ahead with his back facing everyone. “You are, well, lucky. You see, at this early stage, the parasite—the plaga. It is possible to remove it…”

Leon whispers in your ear. “You knew this already?” You nod in reply as you continue listening to Luis.

“…with a surgical procedure. And all you need is some know-how.” He then turns and opens up his shirt to reveal a chest scar. “And, oh yeah—the right equipment.”

Leon’s brows furrow and he steps forward and points at him. “Wait. You too?”

Luis waves his hands around. “No worries. See, I have a plan.” He taps the side of his head and winks. He then points both his hands toward you both. “But you’re going to have to trust me.”

Leon and Ashley lock eyes before Leon turns his head back to Luis and nods. Luis turns on his heel and fist pumps the air. “Great! We’re partners then!”

As he walks forward you turn to Leon and give him a soft smile. “I’ll join him.”

Leon looks past you and reaches out to Luis. “Hey, why are you—

Luis quickly cuts and waves him off. “No time for any questions. The clock is ticking!”

“Why are you helping us?” Leon asks. Luis suddenly stops.

“Because it makes me feel better. And your partner might’ve coerced me…Let’s leave it at that.” He continues walking forward and waves his radio. “I will contact you later.”

You scoff and begin following him. “Catch up with you both later.” You say to Leon and Ashley before running ahead.

You walk by his side as he plays around with his lighter before he turns his head to you. “You got a smoke?”

“Nope.” You say as you look down at his lighter. He sighs and continues playing with the lighter before stopping.

“You never told me your name?” He questions while meeting your eyes.

“It’s, [Name]. Sorry about earlier…” You murmur as your gaze falters from him to the ground.

A low chuckle slips past his lips as he looks to you. “No te preocupes. I know you were just trying to do the right thing…But just so you know, I was going to help them regardless.”

“Well that makes me feel even worse.” You groan as you cup the bridge of your nose.

He simply laughs as he pats your back. “Consider your aid as reparations for earlier.” Slowly his laugh dies out and he clears his throat. “I…have to warn you. I’m meeting with someone and she’s not really the type who loves surprises. I need you to stand behind me and let me do all the talking.”

You stare at him and blink. “Seriously?” He nods slowly in response as you cross your arms. “Fine. I really hope you know what your doing…”

He grins and walks ahead, still playing with his lighter. “¡Claro, por aquí!”

You walk behind him and in the distance you see a woman dressed in red, standing atop a rocky slope with her arms crossed. Her eyes sharpen as she narrows her gaze at Luis.

“Luis, I asked for the Amber, not Leon’s partner.” Her brows knit together in a scowl as she taps her foot. “Where’s the Amber?”

Luis sighs. “Unfortunately, it’s not on me at the moment.” He then begins climbing the slope, gripping each rock as he then peers up. “And you really should be telling me what a good job I did. Busted my ass and managed to hide it right before I got caught. Which is why I’m still alive!” His grip loosened as he almost falls but holds his hand out to the woman.

She huffs out before kneeling down and gazing down at him. “The deal was we get you out of here when you deliver the Amber. No Amber? No protection, Luis.”

He laughs lowly as he shakes his head slightly. “Such a stickler for details, huh Ada?” He takes a brief inhale, then looking back down at you before looking back up at Ada. “Okay, then…We’ll go get it now. How about that?” He reaches his hand out once again.

Ada stares at him briefly, rolls her eyes and sighs softly as she takes his hand and lifts him up. Luis groans as he climbs the rest of the way. They both dust themselves off before Luis turns around and holds his hand out while winking at you. You quickly climb and take his hand.

He turns to look off in the distance. “And I do have something else I need to get too…”

End of Part One of: •tornado warnings•

Here are some ramblings, feel free to ignore them, I thank everyone who interacts in any way and for reading<3 I had so much fun writing this and in fact had this in my drafts for a couple months and Separate Ways dlc releasing pushed me to finish this! Part two won’t take as long hopefully, and I hope this wasn’t a drag to read through. I’m pretty self critical when it comes to my writing and I find myself being repetitious with my style that I end up giving up. This was originally gonna be a quick one shot but I ended up writing so much I knew it couldn’t be delegated to just one part. And the title is based off of Sabrina Carpenter’s song, Tornado Warnings. It’s such a great song and even the entire album is a bop from start to finish, I highly suggest listening if you’re into pop and somber music.

[visit-new-york]

Bow Bridge is one of the most iconic and romantic landmarks in Central Park, New York City. It is a beautifully designed cast-iron bridge that spans across the picturesque Central Park Lake, also known as The Lake. Bow Bridge is known for its graceful curves, intricate ironwork, and stunning views, making it a popular destination for visitors, photographers, and couples. Here are some key details about Bow Bridge:

Location: Bow Bridge is situated in the southern part of Central Park, not far from the park's entrance at 59th Street and Fifth Avenue. It crosses The Lake, connecting the eastern shore (Cherry Hill) to the western shore (the Ramble).

Design and Architecture: The bridge was designed by architects Calvert Vaux and Jacob Wrey Mould and was completed in 1862. It is a cast-iron bridge with intricate Gothic and neo-classical elements. The bridge gets its name from its unique shape, which resembles the curve of a violin's bow.

Scenic Views: One of the main attractions of Bow Bridge is the breathtaking views it offers. From the bridge, visitors can enjoy panoramic vistas of Central Park's landscape, including the lake, surrounding trees, and the Manhattan skyline in the background. The bridge's elegant design adds to the beauty of these views.

Seasonal Beauty: Bow Bridge is stunning in every season. In the spring, it is surrounded by blooming cherry blossoms and other trees in full bloom. During the fall, the bridge is enveloped in the vibrant colors of autumn foliage. In the winter, it often becomes a serene and romantic snowscape.

Cultural Significance: Bow Bridge has appeared in numerous films, television shows, and photographs, becoming an iconic symbol of Central Park. It is a popular location for engagements, weddings, and romantic walks, further enhancing its cultural significance.

Central Park Conservancy: Like many features within Central Park, Bow Bridge benefits from the efforts of the Central Park Conservancy, a non-profit organization dedicated to the park's preservation and maintenance. The Conservancy ensures that the bridge remains in excellent condition.

Photography: Bow Bridge is a favorite spot for both amateur and professional photographers. The combination of its architectural beauty, scenic surroundings, and reflections in the water creates an ideal setting for capturing memorable photographs.

Recreational Activities: The area around Bow Bridge is perfect for leisurely walks, picnics, and relaxation. Visitors can also take boat rides on The Lake or explore the nearby Ramble, a more rugged and wooded section of Central Park.

Accessibility: Bow Bridge is easily accessible by pedestrian pathways within Central Park. It is conveniently located near popular attractions like Bethesda Terrace and the Central Park Boathouse.

In summary, Bow Bridge is a quintessential Central Park landmark known for its beauty, elegance, and romantic atmosphere. Whether you're seeking a scenic spot for photography, a leisurely stroll, or a picturesque backdrop for special moments, Bow Bridge offers a timeless and enchanting experience in the heart of Manhattan.

[scotianostra]

On January 21st 1890 two 1,000ft long test trains, each comprising a locomotive and 50 wagons, and l weighing 900 tons each, rolled onto the newly-built Forth Bridge side by side from the south.

Before the bridge we see today was built, the foundations of a completely different bridge were laid in 1878. Sir Thomas Bouch had designed a suspension bridge for the crossing, but in 1879 another bridge that Bouch had designed collapsed during the tragic Tay Bridge Disaster. During a storm, the Tay Bridge had collapsed under the weight of a train carrying 75 passengers, killing everyone on board. Following the disaster, Bouch’s design for the Forth Bridge was quickly abandoned. Today you can still see the foundations for his bridge on Inchgarvie, an uninhabited military island in the Forth.

Work had been completed on the crossing in December 1889.

The first weight testing of the new Forth Bridge began on the 21st of January 1890, and was naturally a very cautious process, this is a report from The Edinburgh Evening News, from Tuesday, January 21, 1890:

"It had been decided, for the purpose of the experiment, to take a double train of waggons over the bridge, for this purpose the vehicles, with three engines, were brought to the north end of the structure. The whole weight 2000 tones, the engines themselves weighing 75 tonnes each. The trains were allowed to stand side by side on the southern approach viaducts, a short distance from the first granite archway. At a later hour the trains moved very slowly until the leading engine was half way out over the arch. Another wait took place, and then the trains again went forward and passed through the ironwork of the first cantilever. During the proceedings, none but the engineers were allowed on the bridge, and observations as to the effect of the weight on the structure were taken at various points. About one o’clock the trains passed onto the Inchgarvie cantilever."

The bridge finally opened on the 4th March 1890, becoming the world’s longest cantilever bridge.

Although nowadays most people call the bridge, The Forth Rail Bridge, it's official name, as it was when it was built, and the only crossing this far east. is The Forth Bridge.

[turnupswritessometimes]

Geppetto's Boy - Lies of P - Ch2

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54517777/chapters/138571591

Summary: A collection of oneshots set throughout the game, mostly exploring P and Gepetto’s relationship. (But exploring P’s relationships with most of Hotel Krat too.)

First | Next

Chapter Two

P sat in the chair again. Again, he was covered in oil from fightig the puppets at Venigni works. Not just oil, he knew, but blood again.

Geppetto used a wet brush, to clean his hair. It eased the gunk out, as he sat and did not flinch as his hair was tugged. This was all part of being kept kept - he needed to be kept clean and in one place, to stay functioning. His hair fell in front of his face, separating the room with dark strands, like prison bars. It was a wonder Venigni hadn't been terrified of him; a puppet, splattered in oil, approaching him.

But then, he'd thought he was a stalker.

He'd met three. The fox and the cat - the cat, who'd conned him out of his ergo for a useless book. They'd been loud and confident and intriguing to him. He'd wanted to linger, but he'd had his orders to obey; he'd had Venigni to save. And then the third: the mouse. The man who had been scared of him.

The man he'd-

“I killed a human,” he said. He wanted his father to know that. Perhaps because he remembered the Grand Covenant. He shouldn’t harm humans.

“Yes, you killed a human to save me, on the bridge,” his father replied. He brushed more of P’s hair forward, working at the back. The brush snagged on the oil dried there. “You protected me.”

“A different human,” P said. “At the factory.”

His father didn’t pause, and didn’t seem shocked by the news. He continued with his work.

So P continued, “He was scared.”

He was sure he heard Geppetto sigh. “Explain what happened.”

“He was scared,” P said. "He attacked me."

"He attacked you with the intention to kill you." It wasn't a question. P supposed it was true. "You had no choice."

P realised he hadn't explained - not properly. He hadn't explained that the man was afraid because his friends had been killed. Killed by puppets. He hadn't explained that the man had attacked him because he'd heard springs inside P. Because P was a puppet, and he was scared P would kill him, too.

He didn't explain that when the man was dead, P hadn't wanted to leave him. Not in a hidden room of Venigni ironworks, by himself. He'd dithered, unsure what to do - sure the Fox and the Cat would not care about this dead man, since they didn't care that much about Venigni, as he was still alive.

In the end, he had knelt down, and eased off the mouse mask. It revaled the face of the mouse - the stalker. He had been young. Very young. Perhaps he was not even considered a man, yet.

"May he rest in peace," Gemini had murmured, at P's side. It sounded like the right words.

Now, Gemini flickered in his lantern. Almost erratically. But he kept silent. P moved carefully, so he wouldn't jog his father, and dimmed his light. For a reason he couldn't pinpoint, he didn't want his Father to know about how vocal Gemini was.

"He heard my springs," he tried to explain again.

"In that case, I'll see what I can do to make them quieter." Geppetto combed the back of his hair into place. Returned to the front, and brushed his fringe back to how it was. Freed P from that prison of dark hair. He was careful - deliberate - as he continued to style it back to how it was meant to be.

Frowned, just slightly, at P, as he examined his expression. He wasn't aware he was making one - how could he, when he was only a puppet?

"Does it bother you, to kill humans?"

"I don't want to hurt humans." P risked taking his hand off the arm of the chair, to graze his fingers against the glass of Gemini's lantern.

"How interesting." His father put the brush away, picking up the damp cloth again. He paused, the line between his brows increasing. "Do you feel guilty?"

It sounded like he was teasing him, again. P couldn't understand how his guilt would be funny, or how his killing could be of such little concern. He watched the line between Gepetto's eyebrows, and how it wrinkled his forehead.

He could still feel his own springs ticking - was that feeling?

"I don't know," he said.

The line deepened. That was the wrong answer. Surely, the right answer couldn't be no, that he felt no guilt. But he shouldn't feel anything at all, because he was a puppet, so the right answer couldn't be yes, either. He didn't know the tight answer.

"That is..." His father paused. He pressed the cloth to P's cheek, and dimly, he knew it was cold. Knew it was wiping away the oil there. "Interesting, but unnecessary. I daresay many more humans will attack you on your travels. You will have to defend yourself, and those close to you. Even if it means killing."

That was what P had been doing all along - he'd been killing to stay alive. He knew that saying that would be the wrong answer for his father. So, he nodded, instead. He stayed silent, dipping his chin slightly, so his hair fell back in front of his eye. That feeling was comforting; that he could hide, even a small part of his expression. He waited until Geppetto had finished cleaning his face – talking whilst he did so irritated him – to ask, “What if they don’t attack first?”

He heard the smallest sigh from his father, as though he was dealing with a precocious child. Did P count as a precocious child? He tilted his head to one side, to allow his neck to be wiped clean of blood and oil too. There was a scorchmark, there. He hadn't moved out of the way of that giant puppet's flamethrower fast enough, and had felt the sting of heat.

“Then you have no reason to hurt them.”

P’s springs ticked. He knew, in that tick, that what he was going to say would be wrong, and it would make his father angry. He also knew that he needed to say it - he needed to know would be said after.

“Unless you ask me to.”

The cloth came away from his neck. Geppetto washed it in the water, and did not look at him. P sat there, feeling restless, feeling his springs ticking like a clock, and waited. He was supposed to listen and obey this man – his creator. That included attacking who he was asked to. Not because he was forced to, only because he was asked to.

When Geppetto looked up, his blue eyes looked sad. He moved as though he was five years older, brushing P’s hair back, and cupping his cheeks, gently. It made him feel trapped; he didn’t think he liked it.

“I know I keep asking you to commit violence, and to put yourself in danger.” His fingers didn’t twitch. His gaze was searching. He wanted something from P, but P didn’t know what it was, or how to give it. “I cannot tell you enough how precious you are to me, and I am sorry that you must keep fighting like this.”

He waited. He wanted a response.

But all P could think was that he hadn’t answered his question.

*

Venigni had made himself at home in the hotel.

P knew he was safe - knew he was good and honourable, and on their side - and yet, he wasn't sure he liked Venigni being there. He was so - much. He moved so much, and spoke to much and touched him, much too much.

When he saw P again, he hugged him.

Actually shouted, "Mi compagno!"  His arms were tight around P's torso - as though he wasn't worried about breaking him. It was so different from the way his father handled him; from Sophia's soft, barely there touches, and the way Eugenie avoided him completely. It made him freeze. He waited, until Venigni had pulled away. It was hard to read his expression properly, when the gas lamps were reflecting off his gold-rimmed glasses.

"Compagno?" he echoed. His voice sounded barely there in comparision.

"I see Geppetto didn't programme you with language skills." Venigni still smiled. P's own mouth twitched - what would be the need? He wasn't built to talk. "It means companion. You are mine. A companion, and a friend."

P wasn't sure about that. Gemini was his companion. He didn't have the chance to discuss further; Venigni was already circling him, looking him up and down. Examining him, just as closely as his father would. P glanced back, and caught Eugenie's eye, from where she was adjusting a sword handle. Her eyebrows twitched at him, and she went back to her work.

"Amazing. Astounding," Venigni murmured more words in his circling, until they were face to face again. P looked at the floor. He flexed his fingers, focusing on how it felt. "I did not notice before - not with all the-" He waved P up and down; meaning the blood, oil and burns. "But you are truly a masterpiece. Truly the old man's finest work. No offence, Pulcinella."

The puppet stood not too far away from them, and yet he hadn't turned to the commotion. He inclined his head. "None taken, Master Venigni."

P didn't know what to say. It made him feel like a very ornate clock.

"Magnifico," Venigni decided. "And bello too."

"What do those words mean?" P asked, though he could make a good guess himself - it was more to see if he would be told. He stared at Venigni's mustache, instead of his smile.

"I shall let you discover that for yourself, I think." Venigni patted his shoulder. Much more roughly than the reverent way his father would do it. P couldn't tell if that was irritating, or a relief. He glanced over his shoulder, to Eugenie again, and saw her biting her lip. She seemed to be trying not to smile. "Now, I know Giuseppe Geppetto is the puppet man, but if you ever have a problem with that arm of yours-" And Venigni caught P's hand, tilting it, so it caught the light. So the arrow with the wire pointed dangerously at him, but he didn't seem to notice. "-You can always come to me. In fact, I have many ideas - ideas I would love to try."

P stepped forward, to look at the blueprints Venigni had already been drawing up. His arm, he realised, was just like a sword; another weapon to customise.

"To destroy," he said, as he looked at them.

"To protect." Venigni tapped a blueprint that showed a shield attached to the forearm. But then he looked up at P, from across the worktable, his eyebrows serious over his glasses. "To kill, yes, or to save. The thing about weapons is you choose what to do with them."

P stared back at him. Actually met his eyes, for once, and saw that he was serious. And yet - a weapon was still a weapon, wasn't it? Wasn't P himself, still a weapon? But Venigni made it sound pretty, so he nodded. So he picked out a new arm for the man to make him, and wondered how it would feel to go without one at all. He let Venigni talk, and found it somewhat of a relief for his mind to focus on the chatter. Found that the more he listened, the more questions he asked, the more Venigni treated him like a person, and not a fancy clock. That felt even more of a relief.

Though none as much of a relief as when Polendina came by to announce that he'd finished preparing dinner. Venigni waved him away, too intent on his project, but Eugenie put down her work. P said he would accompany her to the dining room - it gave him the perfect excuse to escape from Venigni. He walked with her, even though he would not be able to eat anything at dinner.

"So-" She tucked her hair behind her ear. "What do you think of Venigni?"

P paused. He wondered if he should lie. For once, he thought it better not to. "He's loud."

Eugenie laughed. It was a merry sound that reminded him of Gemini's lantern, when it was fully glowing. "That's true."

"But his heart his good."

She didn't laugh that time. She smiled instead. "Also true. And I think he would like to be your friend, if you let him."

P also didn't laugh, but he felt as though it would be appropriate. (Could he laugh?) He settled for smiling, and nodding.

But it didn't seem as though he had a choice in the matter.

*

P was starting a collection.

He had very little to put in his own room at the hotel. (There seemed little point in giving him his own room, considering he couldn't sleep, and he rarely stayed long.) All his weapons were kept downstairs, along with his spare legion arms. He did have spare clothes, which he folded and left the chest of drawers. It felt almost like a portrait gallery; a dozen different versions of him.  Weapons and clothes were a necessity. He could understand having them. They didn't feel any more personal than the borrowed bed and furniture.

But there were things he’d acquired which weren’t a necessity; things he’d seen and slipped into his pocket, as he'd wandered through abandoned houses and streets. P was drawn to them. He'd been programmed to read, he supposed, and he found that fascinating; how much had been written, and for so many different purposes.

His father had found one of these papers, when he’d been helping to clean his legion arm - to keep it functional. His fingers had brushed against the slip of paper in P’s pockets. He’d slipped it out, without asking.

P didn’t even think to protest. He watched his father read the note he’d found on Elysium Boulevard. The note written by a father with the petrification disease, speaking about his wife and daughter.

Geppetto’s expression became difficult to read; his eyebrows and lips twitched, as though he was reading it to himself.

“Why did you keep this?” he asked.

P had kept the note because it made him feel – strange - made his springs tick in the way which could be feeling. When he’d read it, he could imagine the man holding the quill; imagine the pain and fear that he felt; he’d understood the emotion behind the words. As much as a puppet could understand emotion.

“To remember,” he said. He’d wanted to remember a dead man: to preserve his last moments, even if he was the only one who could. It seemed to be becoming a habit.

Geppetto’s eyebrows twitched again. It shifted his monocle. “Remember?”

“Him.” P pointed to the note.

“But this is just a scribble from a sick man.” And Geppetto moved to toss it into the bin.

P jerked. His hand raised before he realised – his legion arm – and for a moment, it looked as though he was about to attack. He folded his fingers back, looked up, and said, “Please.”

Geppetto still stared at him for a long moment, his gaze calculating, if not, slightly disapproving. But then, he held the scrap of paper out. It wilted, the black lines like lines of ants on the page. P took it, and smoothed it out. His fingers tracing over the words he'd memorized, by now. He folded it, once, and slipped it back into his pocket.

“I never thought that you’d…” Geppetto trailed off.

P tilted his head to one side, looking up again. Did he never think that he’d be curious about humans? That he’d want to know more about the emotions that he wasn’t supposed to have?

“Be so meticulous.” Geppetto finished, but there were lines either side of his mouth that suggested it wasn’t the word he’d first thought of.

P nodded, because he wasn’t sure what else to do. Nodding always seemed a safe reaction.

His father smiled, tightly. “Thank you for remembering to say please.”

It wasn’t a chide, not quite, but it was enough to suggest that P had not been as obedient as he should have been. He hadn’t meant to, but he didn’t know how to explain that. He was a puppet; he was supposed to obey his creator.

But he wasn’t bound by the Grand Covenant. That was beginning to feel like more and more of a relief.

So he kept his scribbles from a sick man. He put the slip of paper in the same drawer as he had the other things he’d collected; the poster for the parade puppet, the figurine of the police officer puppet; the ruined guide to Krat. He sat, at the desk, when it was night, and looked through his little treasures by Gemini’s yellow light.

They were precious, to him, as relics of how Krat used to be. Of who lived there. Of what people were. His father had said the city wasn’t like how he remembered it, but he didn’t remember it at all. His first memory was waking on the train.

P asked Gemini: “Do you remember?”

The shadow of the cricket moved in the lantern. “Bits and pieces, but nothing in particular. It feels more like facts than real memories. Sorry, pal.”

P gave him a small smile. He ran his finger around the lid of the lantern, and kept looking at the parade puppet poster. What would the poster for himlook like?

'So lifelike you won’t believe he’s not a real boy.'

Why did that bother him?

[knightotoc]

I was looking up that thing about how Skywalker, which sounds Native American, was used by Mohawk ironworkers building bridges and skyscrapers on the East Coast in the early 20th century, and Google suggested one of those awful baby name websites for my guy's silly name... lots to unpack here:

Amused by this little fanfiction that Anakin means "soldier," I don't think Shmi was into the military but maybe it's a family name

Love that they list "guys" as a synonym for boys... congratulations Mrs. Skywalker, it's a guy

Love that Star Wars is considered literary (wow!), Native American (not normally how you use that phrase but okay), and Christian (in the general WASPiness of Hollywood and some of the religious themes in the movies, okay lol)

It is not a common name!

[atonalginger]

Through Plasma and Flames

It seemed like a simple enough task: locate the source of a distress signal made by a missing caravan along the road. But General Dawn Faulkner quickly learns nothing is simple in the Commonwealth. What started as a simple recon mission spirals into a race against a specter of the Nation's past as Dawn and her team stumble upon a danger far worse than raiders looming over the settlements of the Commonwealth.

The first chapter of Through Plasma and Flames is now live on ao3. It is rated E for explicit violence and language. You can start reading by clicking Here!

and a preview of the chapter under the read more:

Dawn closed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, “and I feel like I’m constantly being questioned and second guessed. You want me to lead but don’t believe I’m capable of handling a simple fucking job without you holding my fucking hand!”  

“That is not true,” he stood there and watched her storm by as she went back into the garage to grab her rifle, “I know what you’re capable of, Dawn, I’ve seen you in action. I watched you melee a deathclaw and catch the whole cell in the old Corvega plant flat footed.”  

“Then why are you here?” Dawn stepped into the doorway of the garage, Preston blocking her path.  

He reached up and touched the scar on her chin, a memento from the old assembly plant. The first time someone had ever gotten the jump on her, “While you have all the skills and talents from your past, I have the knowledge of the Commonwealth of today and I know going up there alone, no matter how prepared, is a death sentence. I can’t…we can’t lose you.”  

“And we can’t afford to have you coming with me,” she pulled her chin from his touch, “new recruits are pouring into the Hills everyday and you said it yourself: we don’t have anyone else qualified to train them at the moment.”  

“At least take the power armor,” he motioned at the frame, the blue painted pieces taunting her, “it can shield you from the grenades and flamer attacks.”  

“It will also blow any cover I hoped to gain,” she pushed past for the open door to the outside, “I will not be buried in that mobile death trap.”  

“That power armor could make the difference between you coming back or—“  

“No,” she shook her head and continued out the door, “I will not wear that metal coffin.”  

“Dawn, wait!” Preston hurried after her, catching her arm as they both stood under the old overhang. The rattling of the turrets she set up on the roof rumbled over his words, “At least let me send Emmett and Chloe with you.”  

“No, they are needed there,” she spun around, pointing at the growing settlement on the other side of the rickety bridge, “same as you. Try to have faith in your General, Garvey.”  

He looked like a kicked puppy, his shoulders slumped as he let out a long exhale. Dawn would have felt bad had it not been for all the other times he’d pulled something similar, blowing the dangers out of proportion and sulking when she came back with nary a scratch.   

She didn’t doubt the Forged were dangerous, she planned on being extra cautious around the old Ironworks yard. All Dawn wanted was to be trusted by the person who foisted the title of General and its responsibilities onto her. He was insistent she was the only one who could handle it and then immediately started doubting her ability to handle anything alone.  

“I’ll radio if something changes,” she said before turning her back on him, “please lock up the Red Rocket before heading over the bridge.”  

“Yes, General,” Preston said in a defeated tone. 

[fractured-legacies]

Imprudent, Chapter 5: Instigations

Prologue | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

Chapter 5: Instigations

The current reigning theory for our failed transit is centered around our pilot and navigator, Lt. Alphonsoni, as Nephaas is his homeworld. The lieutenant has been emotionally unstable since our arrival, especially since the discovery of the state of the planet, but has been vocal and emphatic in his insistence that he did not direct our ship here intentionally.

~o0O0o~

Raavi ava Laargan

I ran through the snowy streets; behind me, at least fifty or sixty armed revenants followed in my wake. I knew that they were revenants, despite having only seen Beeno before, because nothing alive could have that gray-purple skin, the color of an old bruise, all over. They were yelling in some language I didn’t recognize, and chasing after me.

They had spears, and flails, and axes, and scythes, and hammers, and whips, and more, not that I’d stopped to take inventory, but it was still something I’d noticed in the moment between me spotting them and them spotting me!

If they caught me, I was dead.

So I ran.

I ran, screaming, heading towards the ironworks.

I’d just crossed the canal bridge when I looked behind and saw that they were still following me. They weren’t in any hurry. And why would they? They didn’t have to worry about the cold. I didn’t even know if they could still feel it, and it wasn’t as if I wasn’t leaving tracks!

I was scrambling for my key when a bellow echoed through the darkness, and another figure appeared from around a corner.

I blinked as she—a redhaired woman dressed in a cloak and a torn undershirt and pants and nothing else—came barreling out of a sidestreet towards the revenant mob. She swung her sword with enough force to chop off the arm of one of the revenants, sending its ax plummeting to the snowy ground.

I stared.

So did all of the revenants, who went “Huh?” as a group.

I didn’t understand their language, but some things apparently transcended both death and language.

The moment ended when she reached down, grabbed the ax, and threw it into the head of one of the revenants. The sound of the impact was like dropping a ripe melon on stone, and I jerked back as the revenant dropped.

“Get inside!” she screamed at me.

“Wha—”

“Get inside and bar the doors!” she shouted, cutting off the arm of another revenant, and grabbing its hammer with her off-hand before it hit the ground.

#

Lady Fiaswith of House Rechneesse

Fia slammed the hammer into the head of another oath-walker as the kid obeyed her orders. Which was good, because these were unquestionably oath-walkers. There were too many of them to be simple obsession revenants, and they were moving with too much intent.

Where was a necromancer when you needed one?

She shoved the thought aside and focused instead on beating them back. This wasn’t her first time fighting oath-walkers, and she knew their weak points. Head, joints, spine. Limbs wouldn’t do much, although it could be effective if she was facing one or two; you could cut off the arms and legs—a thought that made her shiver—and interrogate them without having to deal with much more than swearing. And if you had someone willing to do some repair work with Breath, you could even reattach the limbs afterwards.

But with this many, she had to go for kills, and put them down.

The fight became a blur. A spear lunged for her and she blocked it using a flail taken from another revenant, the strands of the flail wrapping around the haft of the spear. She used the leverage of that to yank the spear out of her opponent’s hands and then kicked it into the crowd, sending some of them stumbling and tripping. Another came in with a whip, and expertly lashed her. It hurt, but she knew pain and how to handle it, so she sliced the leather with her sword and let the revenant stumble back into the crowd. A trio of scythe-wielders came up, trudging awkwardly through the snow. She moved away from them, interposing a group with hammers between her and them, but they split up and tried to encircle her.

A sound hissed through the air, and an arrow sprouted from the middle one’s head.

Fia dared a glance up where the arrow had come from, and saw Yufemya standing on a nearby rooftop, nocking another arrow. Giving the other woman a brief salute in thanks, she moved back in, disarming one of the scythe-wielders with a solid blow of her sword as the revenants tried to identify the new threat. Grabbing the scythe with the revenant’s hand still gripping it, she swung it around, forcing the encircling revenants to keep back.

They spoke to each other, and she didn’t recognize the language, a fact that she knew she’d focus on later—if there was a later—and started to move to encircle her.

She jumped back, skewering one of the encircling revenants with the point of the scythe, but it didn’t bring it down.

Leaving the scythe embedded in the revenant’s chest, she pulled back. Yes, she had her advantages, but she was still healing from the cold, which was not helped by having been in that damn trunk, and they could still bring her down with numbers.

Spying four revenants with spears moving as a group, she ran towards them; they set their spears, ready for her charge.

Perfect.

She dropped and slid under them, the snow and ice coating the ground aiding her, even as the chill was a shock to her system. If she survived this, she was going to find or steal some clothes, that was for sure!

There was a beautiful moment as she slid to the feet of the quartet, when they looked down at her in surprise. Reaching out with her sword at full extension, she pushed, springing up in a swing, her sword describing an arc that went through all eight arms of the four revenants.

Their spears thudded to the snow, and they beat a hasty retreat, thankfully. Fia jumped to her feet, and then, kicking up one of the spears into her hand, threw it through another revenant. It was poorly weighted, and her shoulders screamed at her for compounding new mistreatment on top of what she’d just survived.

Another arrow arrived, piercing the head of another revenant behind her, and she gasped in gratitude to Yufemya. She owed the other woman, and owed her big. But for the moment, Fia had bigger concerns, as a coordinated rush from another group of revenants forced her away from the spears, which they reclaimed, along with the arms of the ones who had held them.

They were moving in a more coordinated fashion now, and she could hear them calling to each other. What tongue it was, she still had no idea, but they were planning on taking her down and moving onto the rest of the sleeping town, that was unquestionable.

She gave ground; regardless of her own skills and advantages, she had to. And they were moving in; she backed herself up against the building, just so they wouldn’t be able to come up from behind her.

And then her guard faltered and she yelled as the spear punctured her chest, running her through.

This was it, because she’d thought she could still be a hero—

The sound of wood against stone echoed above her and she looked up, just as a trio of wooden barrels came plummeting out of the air, shattering in the middle of the crowd of revenants, crushing at least two of them and spraying the contents of the barrels everywhere.

A few droplets hit Fia in the face.

Oilsap.

Her eyes went wide just as the lit torch followed from above.

She dove down into the snow, chest screaming as the spear wrenched at it, but that saved her from the blast of heat as the oilsap burst into flame.

The revenants screamed, and as she pulled herself up from the snow, she watched them run.

Looking up, she spied the young man she’d sent into the building looking down at her with concern, and gave him a thumbs up.

“I stayed inside, just like you told me to!” he called down.

She laughed. It hurt. But that was fine. Reaching up, she pulled the spear out. Better to get that free before there were awkward questions. Hauling herself to her feet, she waved to the archer, who was clambering down from a different rooftop than the one she’d started on.

Shouting came, and she heard the familiar sound of a Fire Siphon as more people arrived and put out the blazing oilsap, sucking the heat out and dumping it into the water and snow. Meanwhile, she was healing, and the feeling of the ice cold against her back was oddly welcome, numbing away the pain as the whispers started to quiet down in the back of her mind.

Whatever was going on, Fia had no idea, but she was out of that trunk. And she was going to make the people who had put her into it pay.

#

Raavi ava Laargan

The armory was bustling as I came in—and then someone called out, “It’s Raavi!” and everyone burst into applause.

I flushed. In the several hours since the revenants had attacked, everyone was treating me like a hero—me, the guy who had screamed and run away, and not Fiaswith, who had, dressed in her nightclothes, gone running at them.

Thankfully, she’d gotten some donated clothes from someone, but I was going to remember seeing her dressed like that for a while. And I sort of didn’t want to. It felt disrespectful. She’d gone charging in and nearly gotten killed, and I’d been hiding inside of the warehouse.

Zoy came over and impudently reached up and tostled my hair. “You had to just get into a fight without me,” she said, smirking.

I flushed. “Sorry, Zoy. Next time?”

She snickered, but before she could say anything else, Fiaswith came over and pulled me into a bear hug. “You little smart-ass genius.”

“Air,” I gasped, making her laugh and loosen her grip. My eyes only barely came up past her shoulder.

“Sorry. I owe you, and I owe you big. Those oath-walkers would have ripped me to pieces, and you pulled my ass out of the fire.”

“By incinerating theirs,” Zoy said. “And I missed it.”

“Who are you?” Fiaswith asked.

“Uh, this is Zoy, another traveler overwintering with us.”

“Well, if you have teasing privileges on Raavi here, know that he was still enough of a smart-ass to shout down that he’d stayed inside, just like I told him to… after dropping those barrels.”

Zoy laughed. “I definitely have those privileges now!”

I sighed, and then the doors opened; the mayor and Stylio came in, along with at least fifty of the overwinterers, all of them armed.

“The revenants are in retreat!” the mayor boomed, and people cheered. “Our sleepers are safe, and we’ve just returned from sending them off back where they came from!”

Fiaswith marched over to him. “Mister Mayor.”

He focused on her. “You’re the warrior who blunted their initial attack, yes? We owe you a thanks.”

“My name is Lady Fiaswith of House Rechneesse,” she said flatly, making my eyes bulge a little. She was nobility!? “You say that you owe me thanks? Then I claim the debt and I will require an escort to the capital in order to report this attack.”

He blinked. “What are you doing here, so far from home in winter, my Lady?”

“My own business, but know that I was ambushed and left for dead,” she said. “All I had to wear was my nightwear. So I have, shall we say, reason to get back to the capital as soon as I can. Understood?”

“Yes, yes, of course. I’m not sure what I can offer, though, in terms of transport. We usually depend on canal boats for summer transport, we only have enough ponies to handle our own internal logistics, and I don’t have the men to spare for an escort.” He spread his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be difficult—gods know that I want you to be able to report this to the King—but I don’t have the resources to spare.”

She frowned. “Then try to think of what you can do.” She turned and walked over to the other woman she’d come in with, the archer who had been shooting the revenants until they’d forced her to move from her rooftop.

Stylio came over to me and Zoy. “Are you all right?” she asked, poking me with the tips of her fingers.

“I’m fine. You should check over Lady Fiaswith,” I said. “I was hiding inside the warehouse the whole time. She was outside fighting them, in her underwear!”

“And I missed it!” Zoy said with joking relish. “Sounds like it was an amazing fight!”

I remembered watching the Lady slide fearlessly under a group of spears, somehow keeping herself from getting skewered. “It was.”

Leena came over at that moment, handing me a steaming mug from a tray balanced on one hand, and used her other hand to give me one. “For the heroes of the hour, here! Mulled beer, with spices from my cellar.” She gave another mug to Stylio with a smile, and then a third to Zoy before moving off in pursuit of the Lady and her archer friend.

I looked down at the mug and took a sniff. It smelled delicious, and I cautiously took a sip. It was hot, and I could taste all sorts of unfamiliar flavors in the mix. It was the sort of thing you drank at Midwinter, still more than a month off, but…

Apparently Leena thought I had earned it.

I leaned against the wall, sipping at the steaming beer, the scents from the spices rising up and tickling my nose. I remembered seeing the revenants coming in, weapons in hand.

And Lady Fiaswith was right. We needed to report this to the king.

But what was she going to use? Horses? What would they even eat? And would they even be fast enough?

And I had something fast and dangerous…

I thought about it. And I thought about it. It had been my toy, my idea, my ‘hey, isn’t this a fun thing to try in the winter?’ pet project that I’d been working on for over a year. It was nearly finished, and I had been planning on using it to go play around on the frozen lake that the canals used as a water source.

And who was I kidding? I was an eighteen year old boy whose first thought on seeing a bunch of undead was to run away. I wasn’t brave. I wasn’t a hero. Not like the Lady, or even Stylio.

Maybe I could just give it to them and watch them go.

Zoy clapped me on the shoulder. “Hey. You okay in there? Something swimming in your beer?”

“Nah. Just thinking.”

She mimed patting herself down as if cleaning off mud. “Don’t get any of it on me!”

I laughed, and she laughed with me before giving me a smile and moving off. I watched her go, and remembered what I’d asked the crystal die when I’d woken earlier.

Is there any way for Zoy to like me as a boyfriend? And I’d drawn circles for the next month, the end of the winter, and ever.

It had landed on ever, and given the answer of no.

At the time, it had hurt. But now… it just seemed so little of a thing. So she wouldn’t be interested in me as a boyfriend. That was fine. She was still becoming a friend, one who teased me and joked with me.

But since I’d rolled that die this morning, I’d nearly died, and my home had been invaded.

Across the room, the Mayor and Lady Fiaswith were arguing.

I knew what I had to do, if I wanted to be a good person.

I pushed away from the wall and walked over. “I will take the Lady to the capital. I’ll… just need directions.”

The Mayor blinked. “Raavi, what are you talking about? How are you going to take the Lady there? It’s almost a hundred and fifty miles!”

“I have a way.”

The Lady looked at me, her eyes narrowed. “Raavi, how old are you?”

“I’m eighteen. I’m old enough to help. How old are you, my Lady?” I asked.

She snorted. “Almost forty, thank you. And I want to get back to my husband and daughter before anything happens to them.” She caught me looking her up and down and said, “I look young for my age, I know. Healthy living.”

“I guess so!” I wouldn’t have put her at more than thirty. Her skin was flawless, without any wrinkles or crows’ feet.

“And what about your guests?” the Mayor asked.

Stylio stepped forward. “I have helped with the injured from the skirmish, but I am willing to go with the Lady to the capital as escort.” She smiled at me. “And it would feel wrong to have my host leave without me, or my ward. And you can surely spare us, Mister Mayor.”

He frowned, and nodded before looking to Lady Fiaswith. “All right. If you’re willing to accept this aid… but I insist that you all rest and get some supplies in order before you go on this harebrained scheme.”

She looked me up and down before she reached down and squeezed my shoulder. “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

Taking a deep breath, I reached up and took down her hand. “You saved my life. The least I can do is help you get back to your family.”

Slowly, she nodded. “All right then. Show me whatever it is that you have in mind.”

#

“You built this?” Lady Fiaswith asked me, sounding impressed as she circled my project, her hands on her hips.

“Took me a year, but yes,” I said. “I made the skates myself.”

Zoy, leaning against the wall of my workroom, had her arms crossed. “This… is a terrible and yet awesome idea and I want one.”

“You’re going to get to sail in one,” Stylio said. “Will it fit all five of us?”

I nodded. “It should.”

“I can handle the rigging,” Lady Fiaswith said. “I have enough sailing experience.”

Stylio looked at her and then her mouth opened in a small “o.” “Ah. Fia the Bloody?”

“At your service,” Lady Fiaswith said. “Retired, though.”

I blinked. “Wait, what?”

“The Lady here was a renowned privateer on the Center Sea for over a decade,” Stylio said quietly. “She retired a few years back, if I remember the rumors right.”

“Yup. Those were the days. Driving off slavers, pillaging imperial treasure ships, sneaking through the Dormelion Straits… oh, those were grand days.” She grinned. “And then I retired. Took my fortune, found a noble husband in search of a wife, and called it quits.” Her smile evaporated. “I think some people need a reminder on why I was a terror on the deck, and not just the dancing floor.”

Stylio clapped her supportively on the shoulder. “Will this contraption work?”

“Oh, this?” She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve seen them used before, in some places south, on pack ice.”

I grinned. “Yeah, that’s where I got the idea from. I was reading up on it, and I saw no reason why it shouldn’t work on the canals and rivers when they’ve iced over. I also made some skis, to give that a try over the snows.”

“Gods know the winds are strong enough…” Lady Fiaswith said, musing, her hand on her chin, examining my iceboat. It wasn’t much—basically a glorified canoe sitting on top of a trio of steel skates, with a main mast and a pair of sails that I had rigged up after a lot of pouring over books and prints of ships. But there was room enough for five people and some food and maybe a small tent if we packed it in right. “All right. I have spent the last three weeks or so trapped in a box. I am going to go to bed, have a screaming nightmare or three, and then dream of bloody revenge on the people who put me in there. So I suggest all of you also get some sleep,” she motioned to me, Stylio, Zoy, and the archer, who had introduced herself as Yufemya, “and we’ll set off once we’ve gotten some supplies together tomorrow?”

I looked around and we all nodded. “Sounds good.”

#

I went down into the caverns, envelope in hand. I’d been down here a few times already, helping with the routine checks. Now, though…

Well, I’d almost gotten killed twenty hours earlier. Which was the sort of thing that made you think.

So I went over to where my family was sleeping away the winter, not knowing about what sorts of dangers and adventures I would be facing.

But I wasn’t going to leave without saying goodbye.

Slipping the envelope under my mother’s hand, I gave her a kiss on the top of her head, followed by a similar kiss to my father’s head, and then my two siblings. Quietly, as if not to wake them, I leaned down and said, “Hey. I’m going to go help someone. I’ll be back, I promise, hopefully before you even know I’m gone. But in case I don’t…” I tapped the envelope, “here’s my message. I love all of you.”

I rose, and walked to the exit. Climbing the stairs slowly, I tried not to think of what I was leaving behind, and tried to think on if I was prepared. Did I have everything?

Tools for repairing the ice boat if it was damaged en route? Check. Personal gear? Check. Clothing? Check.

By the time I had reached the canal, where the ice boat was waiting, I had checked all of my pockets and pouches for the gear I was bringing. By all rights, I should have clanked as I walked, but I’d packed well. Waiting by the boat were Lady Fiaswith and the others, along with a number of the other overwinterers, waiting to see us off.

“You said your goodbyes?” Stylio asked.

“I did. They didn’t hear me, though.”

“The important part is that you said them. Trust me.”

I nodded, and, awkwardly, we climbed in. Leena had apparently tried to give us as much supplies as she could. We wouldn’t be going hungry anytime soon, that was for sure!

With a heave the others helped push us up to speed, and the ice boat began to move, slowly at first, but then faster and faster and faster, the ice starting to hiss under the skates.

“Now!” Lady Fia shouted, and, with a yank, I unfurled the sails.

We lurched forward, like an arrow from a bow, and the hissing turned into a wail as we flew with the wind down the canal.

“This is amazing!” Zoy shouted from behind me as we sped down the frozen canals under the watchful gaze of the Night-Light, the snow glowing across the landscape. I was at the front, the tiller in my hand.

“Raavi!” Lady Fia barked. “Fifteen degrees to port!”

I twitched, trying to remember what port meant, and managed to turn us to the left before we plowed into a snowbank.

“Aaaah!” I shouted, along with everyone else as I held onto the tiller for dear life, the ice boat tilting alarmingly.

“Thirty degrees to starboard!”

This time I was ready, and I managed to twist the tiller to match the curves of the canal’s path more smoothly.

Once I got the hang of it—with some close near-misses with the sides of the canal, but we didn’t hit them!—I dared a glance backwards. Lady Fiaswith was manning the sails with panache, pulling the ropes this way and that to let the sailcloth catch the wind. I could believe that she’d spent more than ten years at sea, watching her work!

“What do we do when we reach the locks?” Stylio asked a short while later. “They’ll be drained in the winter!”

“This is a bad time to be asking that sort of question!” Yufemya said.

“We’ll have to stop and work our way around!” Lady Fiaswith said. “And it won’t be long now, so keep a weather eye out for it!”

“Wait, the first locks on the way to the capital aren’t for miles!” I protested.

“Raavi, haven’t you noticed how fast the mile markers are passing?” Zoy said.

“Uh… no? Been focused on the tiller.”

She pointed to one stone, the wind having scoured the snow away from the face of it.

I started counting.

A hundred seconds later, we passed another one.

I did the math, and if I could have paled any more than I already had from the cold, I would have. “We’re going thirty-five miles an hour!?”

“At least! So please be careful and don’t steer us into a snowbank! There are stone walls hiding under there!”

That made me swallow hard, and I redoubled my attention on navigating us down the frozen road that was the canal. It wasn’t long until we got to the nearest set of locks, twenty-five miles away from my home. Less than an hour.

Lady Fia slowly furled the main sail and then the lateen sail that stretched over my head, before calling for Zoy and Yufemya to drop the anchor over the side. The metal plate, festooned with small spikes, fell with an echoing clatter onto the ice, and I cringed at the aching scraping sound as it slid across the ice.

“Oh, that’s charming,” Zoy said, holding her gloved hands over her ears.

“Mmhhmm,” Yufemya echoed. “I can feel every hair on my body standing on end.”

I had to agree with them, but the anchor worked, slowly dragging us to a stop. The screeching sound of the skate over the ice seemed to echo in my ears, though, even though I could tell it was dead quiet around us, the only sound being the soft hiss of the blowing snow.

We shakily disembarked, and Lady Fiaswith gave the ice boat a look of respect, her hand patting the top of the frame. “Amazing. That was, what, twenty-some miles, and we left only an hour ago?”

“Judging by the angle of the moon in relation to the Night-Light,” Yufemya pointed; the moon’s quarter-lit face, barely visible through the streaming clouds, “I think so. Which is… amazing.” She turned and gave me a look of respect. “Well done. We’re in your debt.”

Zoy nodded, and then walked over to the lock. The large stone and wooden chamber was pumped dry, of course, so that the freezing water couldn’t do the pumps any damage over the winter. The rest of the canal was visible off in the distance beyond it, a ribbon of ice that vanished into the hills. But for this twenty yard long—and ten yard drop—it was interrupted. “So… how are we going to get it down there?”

I frowned. “To be honest… I hadn’t thought this far.”

Before anyone could chide me, Stylio spoke up. “We’ll have to empty it of our provisions, and carry them and it down separately.”

We all glanced at the ice boat, and Zoy, her tone wry, asked, “Raavi… just how much does that thing weigh?”

I frowned. “Upwards of a thousand pounds, at least.” Between the wood, the skates, the skis in their holders on the side, the sails, the ropes, the anchor… “We can break it down a little into more manageable chunks, but it’s going to be a pain for the five of us to deadlift.”

“Yeah, and, no offense, you had a problem with your cart full of iron blocks,” Zoy said, her hands on her hips.

As I winced a little at that—I could tell that Zoy wasn’t being mean, she was just stating a fact, but it still hurt—Stylio stepped forward. “Let’s get the provisions out. And then I have a suggestion.”

I reached in and pulled out my rucksack, as the others did the same. “What’s the suggestion?”

“Simple. We carry these packs down, and then come back up here and sing a Strength Shanty together.”

I winced. “That’ll hurt.”

“Yes.” She looked at me. “But I think that it’s our best option for getting the ice boat down to the lower canal without incident. And once there, we take a break, eat some of our provisions to replenish our strength and let our Breath recover, and then we continue on. But here we have at least some shelter,” she pointed to the control hut for the lock, “and we can possibly eat in there while we rest.”

“Let’s just stash the provisions in there first,” Zoy said, “and then get the ice boat.”

“An even better idea. What do the rest of you say?”

I looked at Lady Fiaswith and Yufemya, both of whom nodded after a moment.

I shrugged and got to work. “Okay, taking off the skis, but I’m leaving the mast in place. Don’t want to have to redo the rigging,” I said, sliding the polished wooden slats out of their holders. “Anchors away…”

“It’s anchor’s aweigh,” Lady Fiaswith said with a laugh. “It means that the anchor is clear of the sea bottom and we’re ready to depart.” She took the anchor and its rope from me, and the skis, and started hauling them down to the lower level of the canal.

I took a few minutes and detached the skates. Between the four of them, they weighed over sixty pounds and I’d designed them to come off, after all. Yufemya and Zoy took them and carried the yard-long pieces of sharpened metal down. By the time I’d gotten them all loose, someone had taken my pack over to the hut, and I hadn’t noticed.

Stepping back from the ice boat, I looked it over. The last time I’d lifted it, it had been with a chain hoist in my workshop. A few hours earlier, twenty people had helped carry it out.

Now we were going to carry it with five people.

I took a deep breath as the others came over to me.

“Ready?” Stylio asked, and we chorused yes.

She began to hum on key, and we joined her, and then she began to sing.

“Oh I work all through the sun and sleep with the rum,

Yay the jolly old man!

Oh I slink through the run and wink at the mum,

Yay the jolly old man!”

She kept singing, as we joined in. The words didn’t matter; it was the tone that did, with the words just being a focus for her Will to shape ours in doing what we wanted the spell to do. As we sang, our Breath streamed out from our mouths, hanging in a blue-white fog around us, and then down into our muscles; I felt a surge of strength on the fifth verse, and together, we reached down and lifted.

And the ice-boat rose.

Keeping time with the song, we carried the ice boat over to the hillside where steps were hiding under the snow. A few footprints showed the safe path, and slowly, one step at a time, continuing to sing, we carried the ice boat down. My shoulders and knees were screaming as the pain mounted, and I just focused on the song and on directing the Breath to enhance the strength of my muscles and joints. The more I was able to join my Will in step with Stylio’s, the more efficient we would be, and the less Breath it would take.

We reached the bottom and carried the boat over to the ice. Putting it down, we sang one last stanza of “Yay, the jolly old man!” and I wavered, my vision blurring, holding myself upright by gripping the side of the boat.

“You all right there, Raavi?” Lady Fiaswith asked. Annoyingly, she didn’t even seem winded, and I suddenly felt weak.

“Yeah. Don’t mind me. I just don’t use that very often, so I’m not very good at it,” I said, the excuse feeling oily in my mouth.

She frowned and nodded. “You’ll get better then with practice, especially with a group. Come on. Let’s eat some of these provisions before you put the boat back together. While we don’t have much time, we’ll get to the capital in a few hours at this rate, so we can afford a short rest.”

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to sound sullen, and probably failing miserably.

We made our way up to the hut, and ate. Some of the food was still warm, and I felt the pain in my body start to lessen as my Breath replenished, the nourishment helping my body revive.

As we ate—sandwiches of fresh dark bread, packed with fried sausages and tart pickled vegetables, and seasoned with horseradish, mustard and, to my tongue’s amazement, rich and smooth mayonnaise—I closed my eyes. I’d barely dared to blink while we’d been moving, for fear of us hitting one of the sides of the canal. So I just chewed and tried to picture the food breaking down in my belly and from there traveling through my body and rejuvenating it. It was a familiar sort of visualization; I’d been taught it for the first Sundown I’d been old enough to sing in, as opposed to being sung to. Of course, without me using my Breath now, I could visualize it all I wanted—it wouldn’t do anything. And if I used my Breath, that would sort of defeat the purpose of eating in the first place…

We sat around as we finished, one by one; outside, the wind howled, and while the hut wasn’t exactly the best sealed structure ever, it was solid enough to give us respite.

Finally, though, we stood and filed outside. “I guess I need to get the boat put back together,” I said, stretching and putting my toolbelts back on; I’d taken them off when we’d carried the boat down.

“Would be nice,” Yufemya deadpanned.

“Rather useful,” Zoy said in the same tone, and the two of them fistbumped and chuckled.

Stylio sighed ruefully. “Come on.”

We went back down the stairs; already, the wind had deposited a pile of snow in the lee of the boat, and more was accumulating. I pushed it out of the way and started reattaching the skates; Yufemya, Zoy, and Lady Fiaswith helpfully aided by pulling the boat off to the side so that I could work more easily, and Stylio helped hold the blade up so I could get the bolts lined up.

I’d almost finished with the last skate when I heard a shout and the boat lurched.

“Ack!” I jumped back before the long blade could cut me, but Stylio wasn’t so lucky; it gashed open her sleeve, cutting into her arm.

She didn’t hesitate, and started to sing a healing spell as her arm gushed blood, but before I could demand answers, I heard Yufemya shout, “Get down!”

I dropped, and an arrow hissed over my head, and something fell behind me.

I twisted, to see a revenant lying on the ice, an arrow sticking out of its head. And then I heard Yufemya’s bow sing again, and Lady Fiaswith cried out.

Pushing myself to my feet, I crawled over to the side of the ice boat and peered over the side. Another revenant—this one with a bow of its own—was tumbling down the side of the canal’s bank.

But it had shot Lady Fiaswith, who was looking down at the arrow sticking out of her chest—at the arrowhead sticking out of her chest.

“Oh. Damn.”

I gasped, and whirled towards Stylio. “You have to help her!”

“And I liked this shirt!” the Lady said.

“I think we have bigger problems!” I said.

She rolled her eyes, reached up, and yanked the arrow through her chest. For a heartbeat, I could see through her.

Stylio faltered, but managed to keep her healing song going, and then Lady Fiaswith frowned and looked down at her chest. “That’s another cloak, coat, and shirt ruined!”

I felt my eyes go round as I saw the wound heal up in front of me. I turned to Stylio, whose eyes were also going wide. “Was that you?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“I’ll explain later,” the Lady said, and looked around. “Is the boat ready?”

“I just need to finish tightening down the bolts,” I said.

“Do that, now. We don’t know where the rest of their friends are, and while I can handle looking like a pincushion, I doubt that any of the rest of you can!” She turned. “Yufemya, get your arrows back. Zoy, get the skis and the anchor.”

Both of them bolted as fast as they could across the ice, Yufemya scanning the top of the embankment for any other threats. I got to work on the skates, even as the memory of watching the bloody wound through Lady Fiaswith’s chest close without the need of a song of healing played out over and over again in my mind.

I’d finished reattaching the skate when Zoy came up with the anchor and skis. We were getting the supplies loaded in, when I heard Yufemya shout.

I looked up, and saw her running down the embankment. “They’re coming!”

Stylio, her arm healed and the tear in her sleeve covered with a strip of cloth to reduce the risk of frostbite, took a deep breath, and started to hum.

I fell into key with her, and we started to sing and push the boat. Lady Fiaswith and Zoy joined in, as Yufemya ran towards us. We’d gotten it up to a walking pace when she caught up and started pushing as well, trying to join in with the song.

A howl came from behind me, and I dared a look backwards.

At least a dozen revenants had just crested the side of the canal and were coming after us. Thankfully none of these had bows, but their axes and spears were still sharp.

We continued to push, faster and faster, as the revenants gave chase.

“Get in!” Zoy shouted as we started to slither over the ice, and jumped in.

I jumped in as well, my hands gripping the tiller, and braced myself for the jolt as Lady Fiaswith unfurled the sails.

We were off, leaving the revenants far behind.

<<<<>>>>

Prologue | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

Wheee! Plot! Bit of a longer one this week, but there wasn't any good spot to break it. Hope you're all enjoying the story so far!

[starsandauras]

Prompt 15: Portentous

FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge Prompt 15: Portentous

“Cid,” Jessie started, and her voice was far more even than she expected it to come out, “who is that?”

Cid looked up and followed her pointing finger to a small enclosure, with walls made of a collapsible latticework and a soft, thin mattress set upon a rolling platform that currently contained a small, Auri child who could not have been a year old, happily gumming away on a spanner. His face brightened and he turned back to Jessie, all smiles. “Jessie, I’d like you to meet Thancred William. Lad, this is Jessie, she’s the Deputy President of the Ironworks.”

As though it was normal to keep a small, teething child in some sort of pen in his office.

Thancred William blinked and took the spanner from his mouth, waving the wet bit of metal as he waved at her, happily babbling at her.

She sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Why is the Warrior of Light’s barely nine moon old son in your office, Cid.”

“I’m babysitting, of course!”

“The Ironworks is not a childcare!”

“He’s only going to be here for a couple of bells and he’s been well behaved so far! We don’t have anything potentially explosive testing, and frankly he seems fascinated by it all!”

“He is teething on a spanner, Cid.”

“I washed it first!”

This was getting nowhere. “Cid, we cannot have the President of the Ironworks babysitting when he’s supposed to be doing his job.”

“I am doing my job! Filling out all this bloody paperwork instead of getting into the guts of the manacutters!”

Thancred William decided that was the time to join the conversation, babbling at Jessie animatedly before shoving the spanner back into his mouth.

“A fine point, lad,” Cid agreed, as though the child had spoken intelligibly. “Brigid is paying for this.”

“…How much?”

“Two thousand gil a bell.”

Jessie paused, thinking this over. It would mean Cid would actually fill out his paperwork and maybe even be on campus for once. And while it wasn’t a lot of gil, it was something.

“Fine, but only when you have admin work to do.”

Thancred William started babbling again, and Jessie had to admit, he was kinda cute.

[delurkr]

I have once again fallen in love with the developers of LH

Kindly note the Shawshin River on the 1692 town map down there at the bottom, and how it's the river that runs through LH and under the bridge they shoved Amy off of

AND READ ABOUT THE REAL LIFE RIVER (it's not long I promise)

Shawsheen River - Salem Witch Museum

We got accurate historical spelling, we got alleged witches, we got mills and ironworks (note the iron mill on the map top rightish), we got Andover which LH is specifically based on as opposed to Salem, and we even have Billerica and T(homas) Chandler and multiple mentions of Ballards and Abotts on the map

I am SCREAMING and that is all I have to say

Edit: I got this sorted out a bit more!

[creativemaniacshenanigans]

Shiny Honeybee Snakworm

A Fusion of: Honey Slime (Slime Rancher), Shiny Combee (Pokemon), Snakpod (Bugsnax), and Bagworm (Dragon Quest)

Gender: 50% Male and 50% Female

Element: Normal, Bug, Flying, Ground, and Ghost

Capabilities: Honey Gather, Hustle, Mega Boost+, Upper, Save Power, Heat Breath, and can attract honey-hungry individuals with such a sweet smell

Resident to: Fighting, Bug, Grass, Fizz, Crack, Woosh, Drain Magic, Whack, Poof, Snooze, Dazzle, Fizzle, Ban Dance, Gobstopper, Stun, Sap, Decelerate, Water, Wind, Earth, Light, Dark, Debilitation, Confusion, Sleep, Paralysis, and Poison

Immune to: Ground, Gigaslash, and Rock/Army

Natural Diet: They only likes Fruits with lots of Mint

Natural Predator of: Mint Flamango

Natural Habitat: Forests, Stuck on Bridges (Along with Powerplants and Cities), Rocky Areas, Nearby Waterfalls, Beaches, Mountains, Nearing Lakes (Along with Ponds, Rivers, Fountains, and Seas), Flower Fields, Abandoned Ironworks, Popular in Parks, Flora Gardens, Orchids, Grasslands, Between Bridges, In Islands, Caverns, Tunnels, Wetlands, Gargantuan Trees, Dark Temples, Light Temples, Jungles, and Abandoned Castles

[rabbitcruiser]

Vancouver Harbour (No. 2)

At the eastern end of the harbour, Burrard Inlet narrows again into a 350-metre-wide (1,150 ft) strait between Burnaby Heights and the mouth of the Seymour River, known as the Second Narrows, which is traversed by the Ironworkers Memorial Bridge and the Second Narrows Rail Bridge. After the Second Narrows, it widens again and continues east until the headland near Dollarton, where it splits into two arms. The longer arm, known as Indian Arm, extends northerly between Mount Seymour and Eagle Mountain until it meets the deltas of Indian River mouth. The shorter arm, known as Port Moody Arm or Moody Inlet, courses further east for another 6 kilometres (3.7 mi) past a 320-metre-wide (1,050 ft) strait (traversed only by overhead powerlines) between Burnaby Mountain and the bluffs of Belcarra Regional Park. Port Moody Arm is almost completely encompassed by the City of Port Moody.

Source: Wikipedia

[visit-new-york]

Bow Bridge - Central Park

Bow Bridge remains an enduring symbol of Central Park's beauty and tranquility. Its combination of architectural elegance, natural surroundings, and cultural significance make it a beloved destination within this iconic urban park, offering a peaceful retreat and a romantic atmosphere in the heart of Manhattan.

Weddings and Proposals: Bow Bridge is a popular spot for weddings and marriage proposals. Many couples choose this picturesque location to exchange vows or ask for their partner's hand in marriage due to its romantic ambiance and stunning views. It's not uncommon to witness a wedding ceremony or proposal while visiting the bridge.

Historical Significance: Bow Bridge, like many features in Central Park, has historical significance. It is part of the original design of Central Park by Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux, two influential landscape architects. Their vision for the park was to create a place of respite and natural beauty within the bustling city, and Bow Bridge exemplifies this vision.

Artistic Inspiration: Artists and painters have long been drawn to Bow Bridge as a subject for their work. The bridge's intricate ironwork and its reflection in the tranquil waters of The Lake provide ample artistic inspiration.

Boating on The Lake: The Lake beneath Bow Bridge is a popular spot for rowboating during the spring and summer months. Visitors can rent rowboats and enjoy a relaxing ride on the calm waters, taking in the views of the bridge and surrounding greenery.

Autumn Foliage: During the fall, Bow Bridge is surrounded by a brilliant display of autumn foliage. The vibrant colors of the changing leaves make it a must-visit spot for leaf peepers, photographers, and anyone who appreciates the beauty of the season.

Accessibility: Bow Bridge is wheelchair accessible, making it a welcoming destination for visitors of all abilities. The park's pathways and nearby amenities are designed to accommodate a wide range of visitors.

Restoration Efforts: Over the years, Bow Bridge has undergone restoration and maintenance to ensure its structural integrity and preserve its historical charm. The efforts of the Central Park Conservancy have played a crucial role in this ongoing preservation work.

Music and Performances: The area around Bow Bridge occasionally hosts outdoor music performances and cultural events, providing a delightful backdrop for live entertainment in a natural setting.

Filming Location: Bow Bridge has been featured in numerous films and television shows. Its romantic and picturesque setting has made it a popular choice for filmmakers seeking an idyllic backdrop for their scenes. You might recognize it from movies like "Manhattan," "Keeping the Faith," and "Enchanted."

Wildlife Viewing: The area around Bow Bridge is a great spot for birdwatching and wildlife observation. Central Park is home to a variety of bird species, including waterfowl that can often be seen on The Lake.

Spring Cherry Blossoms: In the spring, the cherry trees near Bow Bridge burst into bloom, creating a stunning display of pink and white blossoms. This seasonal spectacle is a draw for visitors who come to admire the beauty of the cherry blossoms.

Architectural Details: While at Bow Bridge, take a closer look at its intricate ironwork and decorative elements. The bridge's design includes ornate railings, lampposts, and Gothic-style arches, adding to its architectural charm.

Central Park Sightseeing: Bow Bridge is often included as a point of interest on guided tours of Central Park. These tours provide visitors with insights into the park's history, design, and the significance of its various landmarks, including the bridge.

Romantic Atmosphere: Bow Bridge's romantic ambiance is particularly pronounced during early mornings and at sunset. The soft, warm light at these times adds to the bridge's allure, making it a popular spot for couples and photographers.

Adjacent Attractions: Nearby, you'll find other attractions like the Central Park Boathouse, which offers dining with a view of The Lake, and the Central Park Conservatory Garden, a beautifully landscaped formal garden that's perfect for a leisurely stroll.

Accessibility: Central Park has made efforts to ensure that its pathways and bridges, including Bow Bridge, are accessible to people with disabilities. This commitment to accessibility allows a wide range of visitors to enjoy the park's beauty.

In conclusion, Bow Bridge in Central Park continues to be a cherished and timeless destination, known for its architectural beauty, scenic surroundings, and romantic allure. Whether you're seeking a tranquil escape, a place for photography, or a romantic setting, Bow Bridge offers a captivating experience in the heart of Manhattan's urban landscape.

[bobcatmoran]

A small jibe - thanks to the Republicans who voted for the infrastructure projects, and for those who didn't, well, the projects in their districts are getting funded as well.

First human prop of the night: Saria Gwin-Maye, a union ironworker who's working on a new bridge in Cincinnati.