#my main takeaway from this batch

[gendrie]

daenerys i

the yearning for home! is so powerful in this chapter like just right from the start. it makes me heart ache for her. dany never had a true home. viserys is the only constant in her life and he’s despicable. 

the first r+l=j reference and it is, notably, positive. only dany has an emotional investment in the reality of this tale imo 

braavos reference!!!! i think arya will see the house with the red door before she leaves. gurm won’t be able to resist. she probably hasnt yet bc its gotta be in the nicer part of town. 

i always forget that jorah’s a northerner and a mormont. in my head its just maege and her girls

dany is already worldly wise relative to her pov peers. she’s traveled up and down the free cities and met a variety of people. she understands what a precarious position she’s in and shrewdly observes the situation. 

shes so quiet and passive to start too 

illyrio mentions the lord of light several times which i also thought was interesting

eddard i

my bobby b review: too loud, too big, too slutty

imagine being married to that mf for 15 years?? i’d become a criminal after a week i get you cersei

but its crazy how strong he was in his prime. ned could barely lift his weapon. gendry’s gonna do damage soon enough. those freys won’t know what hit ‘em

arya was born during the greyjoy rebellion so for the 2nd time ned returned home where cat was like “i have a baby!” and ned was like “hey me too! heres theon” 

“surpassing loveliness” weird how this doesnt imply she was “”unconventional”” looking at all lol 

“melancholy as a stark” my people

jon i

the children in this series deserve to get drunk more often

jon is crushing so hard on jaime (smh)

he is, undeniably, othered and doesnt feel like he has a true home. that echoes dany but jon has had a level of stability not to mention a father and siblings who arent evil.

benjen is a babe 

tyrion meets a direwolf (1/6)

[actualmichelle]

My main takeaway from season 3 of the bad batch so far is that Crosshair now has a dog, and it is wonderful

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Crosshair in "The Solitary Clone"

I've been rewatching The Bad Batch with my cousin and we just finished The Solitary Clone last night. There is one scene that hasn't left my mind and yes, I will psychoanalyze Cross's face because he is so expressive in the subtlest ways. Also, this is my takeaway from this scene.

Cross says "We're soldiers. We do what needs to be done" in response to Cody's question regarding the morality of their actions.

Cody replies "Well, you know what makes us different from battle droids? We make our own decisions. Our own choices." Then, he walks away, leaving Crosshair with his thoughts.

It is this interaction that really caught my eyes. This is Cross's reaction to Cody asking him if he knows how're they're different from droids:

Crosshair stiffens and takes a breath in, taking in Cody's words and anticipating what he's about to say next. There is so much pain and conflict written on his face. Cody is challenging his beliefs and hitting a very sensitive topic for Cross. What are the clones' purpose in life? To be solider and fight, just like the battle droids. The clones are also frequently mistreated because of this. To Crosshair, a clone who would've been "decommissioned" if his mutation wasn't helpful, if he can't be a soldier, then what is his purpose? When Cody states that it's because the clones can make their own decisions and choices, Cross's expression changes slightly again and all the guilt, self-loathing, and pain is on max level for us the audience to see. Due to the chip, Crosshair had his choices taken away. But even after the incident on Bracca where he got turned into Kentucky Fried Anakin, Crosshair is still under the Empire's control. He lets them dictate his actions and follows their orders. Cody's words are hard for him to swallow, and I think deep down, he knows Cody's right. But because of everything that's happened and Crosshair's internal conflict with who he is, it's difficult to hear.

As Cody begins walking away, we get this expression:

He almost looks angry. But angry at Cody? I don't think so. I think its anger at himself and the remaining resentment he has towards his brothers. The pain in his eyes is still there on full display to see. One of Crosshair's main ways of communicating is purely through his body language. He doesn't need to say much in order to articulate his emotions or get a point across. Cody's words are sinking in to him and he doesn't like it because it reminds him of his internal conflict.

Something I've noticed about Crosshair on my Bad Batch rewatch is just how insecure he truly is, especially regarding who he is. Many people when talking about Cross bring this point up and now that I rewatch the show, I see it. Insecurity and identity are at the focal point of Crosshair's character. It's always "I'm a soldier" or "we're made to be more than that." Cross can't see himself outside of that role which brings him into direct conflict with Hunter. Hunter kind of imprinted on Omega. He sees this child as a new path forward in life. She's his moral compass, the reason he keeps fighting, and one of the most important things in his life. Hunter can't live without her in his life. Crosshair doesn't have an Omega who brings him a new perspective. That is, until Cody and Mayday show up.

Another thing I've noticed about Crosshair is that he's very clingy. Because of his life on Kamino and his insecurities, he tends to cling to those who make him feel wanted or useful. Cross values loyalty and has a deep desire to feel wanted by others. The Batch was his family, the only other people who understood him and wanted him. When they left him, he became very jaded and angry. After everything they've been through, Cross was still thrown aside. And that breaks him internally. Then, it's the Empire. Crosshair was raised to be a soldier first and foremost. Who seeks soldiers to fill their ranks? The Empire. Who demands loyalty and promises to reward those who follow orders? The Empire. Who makes Crosshair feel useful in a time of great confusion? The Empire. So, he clings to them in hopes that he will find a place to belong. Cody is next. Cody is the only familiar face to Crosshair and the only one who treats him with kindness. Rampart sure as heck doesn't care and the other clones don't want to be near Crosshair. He's different and he doesn't really fit in anywhere. Heck, look at the contrast between the uniform. Anyways, Cody is able to connect with Cross. In turn, Crosshair sticks by his side the whole time and even asks for him after the mission on Desix is over. Speaking of Desix, the whole mission plays out like an episode of Clone Wars with battle droids and all. Of course it's gonna remind Cross of the olden days. Finally, there's Mayday. Mayday owed Crosshair nothing but gave him everything anyway. And Cross really latched on to him because Mayday is the last lifeline he's got. Mayday's actions and kindness affected Crosshair in a way he didn't expect. When Crosshair helps him back and forms a bond with him, it's a touching moment. It also symbolizes Crosshair accepting his clone identity. He's embracing a part of himself he initially wanted nothing to do with. At the end of the day, Crosshair wants nothing more to belong somewhere and with someone. He wants to be wanted, not alone on some desolate rock. The Outpost broke the camel's back in terms of how much longer Cross could keep going the way he was.

Alright, that was pretty long. But, I wanted to share my thoughts because that scene and Crosshair's specific reactions hit so different a second time. He is fighting against himself and he knows it. But his internal conflict is so strong that it makes him very stubborn. In the end, he winds up in a weird sunk-cost fallacy situation. He does pay the price in the end. He loses Mayday and everything that keeps him tethered to the Empire and life. Crosshair's desire for belonging and purpose are so strong that he doesn't get out until he can't take it anymore. He is pushed to his brink and by then, it's too late. He can either rot until he's completely dead on the inside or make a choice that'll get him killed. Either way, Crosshair's only way out was death. But, the Empire had other plans for him. Hopefully, season 3 will give him a happier ending.

Crosshair's story is one of embracing your identity and overcoming your insecurities. It's one of finding where you belong and that what might initially seem as the right place is actually far more damaging then it let one. He is such an incredibly complex character and in my opinion, one of Star Wars' best. He's never gonna be Vader level, but for those who know him and his story, Cross will leave an impact on us.

Thank you for reading, I hope you made it this far, and I'll be back shortly with more Crosshair content. Take care.

[hautecoldture]

ColdFlash fanmerch response summary!

I'm happy to share an update based on the collective responses to the interest check survey and share my plan for next steps. TL;DR several designs are underway and I'm excited :D

First up, a response summary of the major takeaways.

Most wanted fanmerch items:

1. Plush 2. Keychains 3. Stationery 4. Enamel Pins (tied) 4. Custom Figurines/Statues 5. Drinkware 6. Wearable/useable accessories (hats, socks, scarves, bags) 7. Soft home goods (blankets, towels, pillows)

Since plush took an early lead, and because it will take the longest in terms of manufacturing time, I got underway with plush designs foremost. While I would love to make all of these things, I’m figuring out what will be most viable to make and how I can supplement options for the rest via my existing print-on-demand storefronts.

Thinking about costs:

Another factor that I want to be considerate of based on responses is the overall cost for any items I make; for example, while I could design super-detailed and intricate poseable plush with removable clothes, they would easily cost $100+ USD each and - while I'm sure they'd be neat - they'd be rather unaffordable. As I'm planning to front the manufacturing costs for everything, they'd also be quite the investment for me too;;;

So, the plush I'm designing will be smaller (around 10 centimeters) with a keychain attachment, and my goal is to try to get the set of both to be around $40 USD (+shipping) or under, which will be a challenge but I'm happy to be working with a great manufacturer to bring these lads to life!

For other items I’d like to tackle, I’m similarly aiming to be mindful of overall cost, especially for this first batch of items; I’d rather err on the side of caution and approachability however I can.

How will the merch be sold?

When merch items eventually go up for sale, it will be via Etsy as the primary storefront. This is for a few reasons:

Platform familiarity & safety for both buyers and sellers.

Etsy has price breaks on shipping and has other things set up that make it internationally viable - Etsy did the hard work with navigating VAT so I don’t have to!

While Etsy does have some fees/cost to me as the seller, I can factor those into the overall cost of any item being sold through there without it being a massive extra cost (both in terms of time & money).

What’s it gonna look like?

In terms of design aesthetic, the predominant preferences were for either stylized realism or cuter stuff, with an excellent additional write-in contingent of folks who like it when things err on the side of subtle. I like to call this latter design aesthetic “secret handshake” where it’s a strong design first, and then - upon closer inspection - you notice the reference; this tends to be more approachable for folks to incorporate into everyday situations like taking/wearing something to work no matter what their dayjob situation is like! Obviously each option has its own challenges and lends to certain things more than others, so it’s going to be fun to balance designs for these approaches with some different items. I’m happily comfortable creating in all of these design styles and excited to do more!

Fanzine interest summary:

100% of responses are interested in a fanzine!

100% of responses indicated support for a fanzine which included a mix of both new and old/previously-shared works.

Format preference is for a main fanzine to be G/T (using AO3 ratings), with an optional secondary collection separate from the zine for any M/E/NSFW content.

I’m excited at the prospect of working together with folks to craft a fanzine! Before doing that, however, I’d process to do some diligence for organization and planning so that it won’t be a doomed undertaking before it begins. I also obviously won’t be tackling that on my own so would want to determine a team and process for production and transparency. Pre-orders also present their own tricky challenges but are often necessary when doing production runs for unknown interest without taking on a great individual financial burden up-front, so I’d want to ensure the zine for any M/E/NSFW content.

HOKAY - thank you for reading through all of that! I'm not sure how much folks are interested in me sharing about the info and process but I'm happy to do so - feel free to ask :D

[tedoculus]

Grilled Burritos

Damn so it turns out cooking a grilled burrito that's delicious is really really easy. It's a bit like my recent experiments with Asian stir fry in that all the work is about prep, and then when it's time to cook you only need 15 to 20 minutes.

Prep: chop your vegetables you want on the burrito (like onions, tomatoes, lettuce) and prepare your cheese and re-fried beans and anything else you want in the burrito, you could have some warm rice for ultimate 'power lunch' style.

For taco meat I always just google 'taco bell beef copycat'. Here's the general gist:

Prepare your seasoning. Chili powder, salt, sugar, ground cumin (this one is really important!), onion powder, garlic powder.

Mix flour into the raw beef. I used to do this with my hands, but it's just as easy to put it in the skillet, add the flour, and mush it in with a wooden spoon while the skillet heats up.

So here's the dealer's choice: If you like your taco meat to get a bit of char, like for some percentage of it to get good and black and almost crunchy, obviously for max char you'd use a cast iron skillet, and you don't add the seasoning yet because you don't want to worry about it burning and sticking. So you cook the hamburger mixed with flour until it's done, then turn down the heat to medium low, add your seasoning mix and stir, let cook for about 30 seconds, then add 1/2 cup of water, cover, and turn heat down to low and simmer for about 4 to 5 minutes. If you don't like char, then you can add the seasoning at the same time you add the flour and just cook on medium until it's done, then do the 1/2 cup water and cover and simmer.

Now this is the game changer for me that I figured out today, basically just following this youtube video: https://youtu.be/BtX8YqeEN6w (The narrating is a little annoying but it's just as helpful muted. The main takeaway is I liked the way she stuffs and rolls the flour tortillas, which I can't really describe but the visual is simple. And then it's as simple as putting them on a skillet on high heat. If I had been trying to figure this out on my own I would have been fucking with butter, but I tried it how they do it and I really liked it. They use a clean skillet, I used the same skillet I cooked the beef in and just wiped 98% of the grease out with a paper towel.

What I love about this is the idea of cooking a batch of meat and rice to keep in the fridge, along with chopped vegetables, and then for two days just making a burrito whenever I want. Heat up the rice and meat in the skillet, remove from skillet and into burrito, assemble and roll burrito, then grill on the skillet.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Plant Rescue

I have been Productive today.

I cleaned out the fridge, I took out the trash and the recycling (though that was painful; ah well), I put up some more refrigerator dill pickles with the brine I boiled up during my insomnia last night (because I do go through those things, but damn are they tasty) ... and I began the attempt at a Plant Rescue in the process.

See, awhile ago, when I was about to put up my last batch of refrigerator dill pickles, there weren’t any packets of fresh dill at the supermarket I went to. Which was honestly fine, since half the packet goes to waste anyway. What I did find was some live, growing dill - you know the kind of thing; bundled into a cheap little pot and looking kind of sad but still alive. So I took it home, put it and its cheap little pot in the kitchen windowsill, gave it some water, took the sprigs I needed, and gave it fairly regular water, just to see how long I could make it last.

So today I noticed that, while the main body of the plant was still kind of saggy and sad, it was also putting out a few new shoots. So I went out onto the balcony to see if I had a decent pot and some soil. I did, in point of fact - I actually had a few but the one that contained one of my cayenne pepper plants that didn’t survive the winter seemed ideal. So I pulled out the corpse of the cayenne pepper plant, dug into the remaining soil to make some room, repotted the dill, gave that some water, and put the whole thing out onto the balcony to get a bit more of this country’s irregular sun. I’ll be giving it plant food with the rest of the winter survivors over the weekend.

So now we wait. If the little supermarket dill plant takes well to its new home, that’s one less thing I have to plant this spring. And honestly I kind of hope it survives just because, y’know? Even in its cheap little pot, it lasted well enough to give me two batches of refrigerator dill pickles. It has served me well, and deserves to thrive. The fact that it means less work for me and still a nearly everlasting source of dill for my batches of pickles is just a bonus.

Maybe that should be a thing I just ... do, y’know? I mean, I do love watching my plants grow from little seeds, but rescuing something that was only meant to last the space of a couple of meal preps and letting it thrive will be awesome, if it works out. So the dill will be an experiment. If it works out, I guess we’ll see.

I know I’m weird. But it’s a good weird, so I’ll cope.

Anyway, since groceries don’t arrive until tomorrow, I may even treat myself to a takeaway. But when tomorrow rolls around and my groceries are here and the fridge is full ... oh, then shall the fun begin. Experiments.

[proxylynn]

MY WISH WAS ALWAYS YOURS (part #6 first half)

{Content warning: Child abuse flashback.}

[And so, after nearly a year, I pronounce this story...over. I give you my thanks for sticking with this long haul of a tale and I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I do have to thank those who voted on the ending being that Jack and Lynn survived, you've opened it up for more content later on. The adventures never have to end so long as I have ideas. But for now I cap this as the main story and it concluded on a high note. This final chapter is super long, so I apologize if there's errors (like letters missing or repeat words or my spellcheck/Grammarly missed something) do let me know of them so I can fix them. Thanks again to all. I hope you have a wonderful day or night depending on when you read this. And may our paths cross again in this fantastic creative world. ^_^]

Another set of weeks has gone by. The tumultuous storm that swelled around the factory seemed to have finally dispersed. The tension that oozed out the walls was gone. Things appeared to have seemingly returned to the norm. Maybe even better. Production was going along swimmingly. Supply was meeting demand. Sales were peak and it wasn't even the holiday season. Jack himself was out of his office more and working the floor, monitoring production, and moving more of the heavier surplus around. It is quite the bounce back to how he tended to be on good days. Shame the same couldn't be said about his shadow. Lynsie, while stoic as ever when working, seemed more detached. Gone was her usual “pleasantness” and she seemed on edge more like she was just one second away from biting someone's head off. If anything, to everyone else, she gave off the same vibes as Jack did not that long ago. Whatever was the reason for their mood shifts it only caused speculation amongst the staff.

The day is running smoothly. The line is churning out what's left of the previous batch and the new stuff is being made for testing. Jack supervises the bakers with an intense scrutiny masked by calm aloofness that does little to ease the smaller chefs. Worse on their nerves was the looming dread of eyes watching them from places they couldn't locate. Only catching glimpses of movement around the machinery one moment then up in the rafters the next. They were used to her making her rounds, patrolling the building like a hawk on the hunt for any and all issues big or small. But the way she was doing so now was like a snake, shadowy and ready to strike at the drop of a hat. She had supposedly given a member of the maintenance crew the fright of their life when appearing beside them while they were working...on the roof. The only odd takeaway was she prevented them from falling off, told them to be careful, and then removed a bird's nest from a nearby chimney. Jack didn't show signs of bother to this behavior. Not so much as batting an eye when she drops from who knows where to simply walk out the main doors and into another part of the facility.

“Um...Sir? Is something going on?”

Jack continued to watch the production line, his gaze fixed on the machinery, unfazed by the employee's question. After a moment seeing as the baker just kept standing there, he finally responded, his voice calm but carrying a hint of authority.

“No. Nothing of concern anyway. Why do you ask?”

The baker gulped nervously, clearly hesitant to bring up the issue.

“Well...”

Jack's patience was thin and he wasn't the biggest fan of hesitation.

“Spit it out!”

The baker flinched under the pressure of Jack's gaze.

“I-It just seems like something, not that I'm implying anything mind you, I can't stress that enough! But...might something be amiss?”

Jack arched an eyebrow, maintaining his composed demeanor.

“A bit above your pay grade to ask such things, don't you think?”

The baker's nervousness deepened, but they pressed on.

“I understand that sir, but Little Lynn is...”

“She's what?”

Jack's voice held a challenge as if daring the baker to attempt to finish their words. The baker hesitated for a moment, knowing that treading carefully was of utmost importance in this situation.

“She's just...not herself lately, sir.”

Jack leans down, his face getting intimidatingly close.

“Answer me this...What do you do here? What is your job?”

The baker swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Jack's scrutiny and authority bearing down on them.

“I'm a baker, sir...”

The employee replied, their voice trembling slightly.

“I make pastries, help with the production, and ensure everything runs smoothly in my area.”

Jack straightened up, still watching the production line, seemingly deep in thought.

“Exactly.”

He said as if he had made a point.

“You're a baker, and your job is to focus on your tasks. If there's a production issue, let me know. If you have concerns about your work, bring them to your supervisor. But don't waste your time and mine with idle gossip like a bunch of butter stirrers.”

The baker nodded, a flush of embarrassment coloring their cheeks.

“I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to overstep.”

Jack gives a huffing sigh, his expression returning to its usual scowl.

“Remember your place. She is a guard, my best guard. Do not question her methods when it comes to security. ...Even if it does make her look like a spider monkey hopped up on too much sugar.”

Even he had to remark that her heightened state of alertness made her look odd.

“Have I cleared that up for you?”

The baker nodded again, this time more resolutely.

“Yes, sir. I understand, and I apologize for any disrespect.”

“Good. Now get back to work. We have a schedule to keep. Pies don't bake themselves. At least, not decent ones anyway. You ever had something made by the Muffin Man?”

“The Muffin Man?”

“The Muffin Man.”

“Oh, yes, I heard of the Muffin Man, who lives in Drury Lane.”

“Yeah, that guy. His stuff sucks! Sure, he can make sentient confections, but they taste like crap. It's like, what even is the point? Why would anyone want a living gingerbread cookie if you can't eat it?! That's just poor business right there.”

The baker couldn't help but chuckle at Jack's unexpected detour into a conversation about the Muffin Man. It was a brief moment of levity in the otherwise tense atmosphere of the factory.

“I agree, sir. Living cookies are interesting, but taste should always come first in baking.”

Jack cracked a rare smile, his stern facade momentarily softening.

“I know! Taste is everything. Speaking of which, back to your station! This batch isn't finished yet. Move it!”

The baker scurried to their post, chastened by the encounter. Jack continued to oversee the production line, his earlier tension seemingly eased by the brief exchange. The factory continued to hum with activity, and the employees worked diligently, trying to put aside their concerns.

Lynsie continued her vigilant patrols elsewhere, moving through the factory like a shadow. She appeared to be watching over the operation with unparalleled dedication, though her demeanor remained distant and somewhat paranoid. She moved like a specter, appearing and disappearing in unexpected places as if searching for something, creating an unease that put other guards on edge.

Jack's presence on the floor seemed to have a mild calming effect on most of the staff. His mood remained a mix of sternness with the occasional moments of levity. They were accustomed to his occasional outbursts and eccentricities. He remained focused on the production, determined to maintain the factory's high standards. The employees, though still curious about Lynsie's strange behavior, knew better than to bring it up again.

However, the mystery still hung in the air. The employees exchanged worried glances and hushed conversations during their breaks, unsure of what might be causing her to act with such heightened alertness. They couldn't help but wonder if there was something more going on behind the scenes, something that Jack wasn't sharing with them. And they would be so absolutely right!

What no one knew about were the threatening letters Kitty was sending and how they cryptically hinted at her not just knowing about the Map to the Wishing Star but how she was going to take it for herself. And seeing as she had broken into the factory once before, these threats were being taken with the utmost seriousness. Security was increased, retrained, and given new orders to watch over wider areas of the building to prevent blind spots. With her greater range of movement, Lynsie took to scaling walls and rooftops not just for sight advantages but to look out for any openings that a cat would try to use.

What spurned her paranoia on more were two main reasons. The first is the fact she hadn't figured out how Kitty got in the first time, so now the pressure was on to not allow such a thing to occur again. And the second, most important urgency of all, they finally received word from the Serpent Sisters. They had the Map. They were on their way to deliver it. Soon, a life's worth of time will forever be changed. So as the factory continued to hum with activity, going about business as usual, Jack remained at the helm keeping things under control while Lynsie maintained a watchful eye over the entire operation, each carrying their burdens and secrets. Waiting for the Map that would change everything.

…

The sun makes its way across the sky. Colors bleed into the next shift as time passes. Soon though, color ceases to be. The vibrant heavens above darken to a seamless void of black cloudy nothingness, the ambient lantern lights of the city and vast plumes of bellowing smoke from industry block out the great celestial body that would normally be seen anywhere else. A starry expanse is a small price to pay for the people who live in this thriving boom town. The Tudor-style buildings are odd in this part of Spain, due to them being English in origin, but are a link to Jack's birthplace before he and his family settled here once they found success in this region. While it does swell with progress and many prosper, no city is without its dark side. This mainly stems back to Jack, the bringer of the city's wealth and its troubles. For his factory is a by-the-books honest business, it's also just a mere front. No one would cast a double take at a pie factory and think that shady goings-on take place. So, with criminal activity going on in the very heart of the city, it is no wonder that some of the town is a little dilapidated in seedier spots. But, despite this underline danger, it has all the charm one would expect from a city of such welcoming architecture and ambitious folks that have a savvy villain atop the social hierarchy.

It's on these cobblestone streets a small unassuming horse-drawn cart comes trotting along. Two women drive their way through aiming for the enormous factory, behind them as their cargo are many bags of plundered gold coins and one decently sized chest, crudely and not very shielded by the cart's cover. The two women driving it maintain a watchful eye on their surroundings. They exchange a few hushed words as they approach their destination. The cargo of plundered gold is a delightful bonus from their latest endeavor, the chest being the main prize and a significant haul that they know their employer waiting for them will be pleased to get his hands on.

As they come over the bridge, the sound of hooves echo along the stone, an outside posted guard takes notice of them and calls out to those behind the walls.

“Open the gates!”

The shout is the alert one in particular has been waiting to hear. The massive doors open forth and allow the women entry before quickly shutting as nearly twenty armed guards surround them cautiously. From above, bounding down off from roof to roof, Lynsie lands in front of the main building doors as the women step out of the cart. Their matching snake tattoos are as she remembers them.

“We've been expecting you two.”

“Yeah yeah. We bet you were.”

Jo Serpent blurts out much to her sister Jan's dismay.

“Ignore her. She's just excited to do this, that's all.”

Lynsie bites her tongue, refraining from exceeding her current temperament.

“Understood.”

The siblings shove the bags of gold further back and pull the chest out, each holding one side's handle. Another guard attempts to get close to take the chest but is met with Jan's dagger being pointed in his face.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hands off the merchandise. We got this.”

The guard looks to Lynsie, she merely nods as her eyes scan the area, so he backs off to let them do the delivery themselves.

“Please, right this way.”

Lynsie motions her hand and two other guards open the inner doors, she steps back to allow them to enter. Jan puts her blade away and they go inside, Lynsie following close behind as the doors close up.

“Um...Shouldn't you be leading us?”

Jan ponders.

“Shouldn't you have been more in touch with your reports? It's poor business to cut contact for so long.”

Lynsie snidely bites back.

“Whoa! What's gotten your underwear up your butt?”

Jo quips. To which Lynsie rolls her eyes.

“My temperament is none of your concern. You have more important things to worry about.”

Jan gulps and Jo gets perplexed by her sister's sudden shift.

“Hey, what does she mean by that?”

But she gets no answer.

“What does she mean by that?”

…

Meanwhile with Jack...The old product is all but gone, the remainder being carried along conveyors to their next destination. The fresh batch has been completed and converted into the new product, aka, new pies. All that remains is a taste test to gain the seal of quality approval. The bakers set up their freshest and finest for testing. Jack adjusts his apron as he approaches what, if all has gone well, will be the last thing he has to do today before he can leave for the night and relax in a nice bath. Maybe have himself a drink and possibly unwind in a more intimate way if the mood strikes him. He shakes such thoughts from his mind and readies his right hand for his signature tasting move, making a fist but sticking his stained thumb up then pointing it down as he shoves it into one of the pies. The golden buttery crust gives way with a soft satisfying crunch. He lifts his hand back up, a full plum attached to his thumb and he without any hesitation pops it into his petulant mouth, sucking it off with a loud sloppy wet lip-smacking pop, wiping the juice residue off on his smock. The plum stains look unnervingly like blood.

“Hmmm...”

The bakers nervously watch as he savors the flavors that dance across his tongue, honed skills from years of doing this analyzing for any fault. His lips smack more as he downs the plum, taking in texture and aftertaste as he comes to his final decision, patting his gut in impulse.

“I pronounce this batch...”

A satisfied grin comes to him

“Delicious!”

The relief that washes over the room is such a great way for things to end for the day. For the bakers, nothing else was going to be as stressful as the testing, because had even the slightest thing been off under Jack's scrutiny, the reprimanding/threats would be soul-crushing and they'd have to start over from scratch again.

“Ship 'em out!”

The bakers heed the command with a more pleasant mood, pushing the trays of pies away for further processing. Jack reached back to undo his apron, looking forward to getting it off even more now.

“Mr. Horner...”

A voice pulls his attention as he finishes removing his apron.

“The Serpent Sisters got the goods.”

Jan motions to the glowing chest she and her sister are striding up to him, Jo not fully paying attention as she takes in the sights around her, Lynsie stalking behind them as if she expects them to do something stupid. The blue light seeping from the chest's opening line and the pink glow shooting out the key hold can only mean one thing. Excitement floods him.

“Is it? Is it?! The map to the Wishing Star!”

He's like a kid on his birthday who knows the thing they wanted was to be gifted to them. Also like said child getting their prized gift, he wants nothing else to get in the way of his enjoyment.

“Stop everything.”

This was code for...Shut the hell up because I don't want to hear a peep or heads will roll.

“You two, come with me. We must get this to the trophy room.”

He turns on his heel with an almost bounce in his step...a shame that glee is cut short by Jo chiming in.

“You know, it took a lot of murdering to get this map.”

Each word annoys the hell out of him, his temper bubbling up as this ignored his very clear orders.

“It all started...”

In a controlled snap, he turns around enough to show just how much this has him seething.

“TAKE IT TO THE TROPHY ROOM!”

His bark makes the women flinch, even Lynsie shrinks a bit on reflex. Yet once he resumes making his way to the trophy room there are no further outbursts as they follow. Jack's excitement is palpable. The glowing chest containing the map to the Wishing Star is a valuable prize beyond measure, and he can't wait to get his hands on it. His obsession with the map has led to countless schemes and secrets, and now it seems that his plans are about to come to fruition. The Serpent Sisters are equally elated, this is their golden goose of a job, and once paid they would be wealthy enough to live out the rest of their days like kings...um...queens. Lynsie remains observant, keeping tabs on things while also fighting the urge to smile. She's happy for Jack. This is the culmination of so many years of work and for him to be able to gain his heart's desire would be a long-awaited happy ending. Yet there's another reason for her to want to smile but she has to be patient. Soon. It won't be long till she witnesses karma bite these greedy goons.

As they reach the trophy room, Jack throws open the doors, revealing the grand chamber filled with the spoils of his criminal empire. The room is sparsely lit yet decently bright, the duel fireplaces on either side crackle with warm life, and two lamps on his desk are more focused for downward illumination, but the main source of the room's brilliance is the stain-glass window in the back of the room. The massive pane takes up a whole wall of the eight sides of the room, the mostly purple glass depicts Jack clad in armor wielding a magic trident while riding atop an alicorn. On the other walls are shelves and displays showcasing stolen artifacts, rare treasures, and items of historical/mythical significance. The map, however, is the crown jewel among them all. The awe of it all hits the sisters.

“Wow. Look at all the magic stuff.”

States Jan as they enter. But for Jack, this is insignificant and he waves off dismissively.

“Yes, I collect enchanted objects, magical icons, bobbles, and geegaws, and la-di-da and blah blah blah.”

Lynsie shuts the doors behind them. A sudden movement in the shadows on the floor nearly snaps her neck with how fast she looks to see what it is, but all she sees is the cage of the phoenix rock faintly and the bird itself preening its wings. She squints in suspicion before looking back to the pair of possible troublemakers in the room. Remaining at the doors to block escape.

“Check it out!”

Jo jumps onto the fidgeting carpet nailed to the floor.

“I'm walking on a magic carpet.”

She kicks at the carpet's struggling and it relents to laying flat.

“Sweet. The shrunken ship of the Lilliputians.”

Jan catches sight of a ship in a bottle on his desk...a ship in a bottle full of tiny people. They shout for aid as they often do, but she's not listening to their pleas.

“Shut up!”

Jo points up at the wall display of horns.

“Are those unicorn horns?”

“Baby unicorn horns.”

Jack corrects.

“Half as heavy, twice as sharp.”

“Savage.”

Jan adds, being impressed. Yet once more, Jack is dismissive and he groans with exasperation.

“Bah! They're trinkets! They're nothing compared to the awesome power of the magic Wishing Star. Speaking of which, make with the box, sister.”

“You got it, boss.”

Jo is eagerly ready to go into regaling their adventure.

“Like I was saying, the amount of murdering we...”

However, she once more can't read the room and annoys Jack to the point he snaps.

“MAKE WITH THE BOX!!!”

He snatches the chest from them, trying to avoid any further interruptions and ignoring of his words.

“After so many years of searching, this is my moment.”

He brings the chest to his desk and produces a key from a hidden pocket, inserting it into the chest's lock. The moment of truth has arrived. The room holds its collective breath as Jack turns the key, the lock clicks, and the chest's lid slowly creaks open.

“With this wish, I will finally be the master of all magic!”

“Hey, Little Jack?”

In an instant, the room runs cold. Jack shuts the chest, locks it, and turns his back to it to face the sisters.

“Excuse me?”

Of course, this is Jo, unable to control herself. Her sister Jan recognizes this is bad, trying to shush and restrain her foolhardy twin to no luck.

“Could you do the thumb thing? Like in the fairy tale?”

“It wasn't a fairy tale! It was only a nursery rhyme.”

Even in his correcting snap, he couldn't hide the dejected bitterness of stating that fact. This very obvious clue goes completely over Jo's head and she makes the situation far worse than needed.

“Oh, yeah. Heh heh. The lame one.”

Now there's a difference between being stupid and being an idiot. Jo seemed to be on the “how has this moron survived this long” spectrum because she starts to do a mocking jig.

“Little Jack Horner sat in the corner eating a Horner pie…”

This mocking does three things. The first, it makes Jan recoil in embarrassment away from her sister. The second, Jack's face gets so red with building rage that it nearly matches the purple of his clothing, flashes of his childhood coming to his mind that only fuel a flame of spite. And third, Lynsie sucker punches Jo in the back of her head and kicks out her knees, bringing her to kneel where she keeps her down with a foot on her back. The shock of such a sudden move still makes Jan jump even though she expected some form of retaliation.

“You dare mock him?”

“H-Hey, come on, relax. It was just a joke.”

She applies more force and Jo winces while struggling to not get a face full of floor.

“So let me get this straight because maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm a little messed up in the head and not understanding you right. You think you're being funny?! Well, no one's laughing, you miserable piece of-!”

*snap*

Lynsie pauses and all eyes go to Jack who had snapped his fingers. He gestures her to back off with a few flicks of his fingers and she does so with slight contempt, returning to her post blocking the door. She knows that Jack can be just as ruthless as she is, especially when his pride is wounded. Jo picks herself up as Jack gets himself composed, his face losing its fluster slowly. But he's not letting this insult slide, not on their lives he's not.

“"Little" Jack Horner didn't have ANY magic.”

He reaches into his coat and pulls out a pair of black leather gloves.

“He was a pathetic, buttered baker's boy.”

He puts the first one on his left hand and purposely snaps it for intimidation.

“"Little" Jack is dead! I'm "BIG" Jack Horner!”

He does the same with the glove on his right hand and approaches the now nervous sisters, his hulking form obscuring the room behind him like a wall. The situation seems to dawn on them that this might get out of hand, so in a move to spare herself, Jan throws her sister to the wolves.

“Ah, Mr. Big Jack Horner, sir...I-I barely know her.”

And Jo, still unable to read the room or behaviors, thinks her sister is kidding around.

“What do you mean? We're sisters, you goof. We got matching face tattoos.”

“Zip it for once!”

Jan barks quietly before she tries to salvage the situation much to Jo's dismay.

“Sir, I'm so sorry. No disrespect was meant.”

Jo, still oblivious to the gravity of the situation...

“Yeah, come on, lighten up. We brought you the map, didn't we?”

Jan stomps on Jo's foot and Jack's eyes narrow.

“You think you can waltz in here and disrespect me to my face? And you expect me to just tolerate it?!”

Jack's anger simmers beneath the surface as he contemplates how to proceed. The sisters back up a bit, cowering slightly while Lynsie eyes them, at the ready to respond. He smirks at this. But also for his own amusement.

“But, maybe, I can overlook this. After all, I'm a reasonable guy. And you did bring me the map...”

His countenance shifting from angry to whimsical should be a hint that something isn't right. But for the pair, they take this as a good thing. And when he moves his attention to the shelf beside him it gets a smirk on Lynsie's lips.

“Aha! There it is!”

He reaches over and grabs a glass case containing a large golden hand, clenched in a fist with its index finger pointing up with a ring on the thumb, middle, and pinkie fingers.

“Now, about your payment...”

He palms the wide base in one hand and removes the glass cover, presenting it to the sisters with an all too innocent expression. Such a wondrous item should be enough for anyone to live off of for a lifetime. Yet...

“Hold up. You promised us our weight in gold.”

Jan recalls their original deal made so long ago by now. Jo nods to her sister's words, expecting the massive payout of their dreams.

“I did, didn't I? Ever hear of the Midas Touch?”

The tried and true method of selling something to someone that doesn't want what you have...Just make the same pitch twice but with a smile and emphasize that it's something they DO want. This trick tends to work on lesser more impulsive minds. ...Minds like Jo's.

“Ah, cool, dibs!”

Jo shoves Jan away and greedily grabs the hand with a proud chuckle like she's won a grand prize that she can keep to herself. But the second she makes contact with the hand, that's when the magic's curse activates, she recoils back as the gold takes hold of her and rapidly spreads from the tips of her hands down to the rest of her body. Turning her to solid gold.

“Oh, no! I misjudged the situation...!”

Jo's voice echoes hauntingly as it fades out, she's nothing more than a lifeless statue that embodies ignorance and hubris. Jan is mortified. She knew one day her sister's leap-before-looking approach would be her end, but she kind of had hoped it wouldn't bite her in the rear too, as now she's stuck, trapped in a room with a massive deranged man and his equally if not more dangerous guard. Her chance to morn is a small window of time that is slammed shut real quick. She's grabbed from behind, her arms restrained painfully.

“Not a very bright one, was she?”

“Why did you...?”

“Oh don't ask stupid questions. I'm just holding up my end of the deal. You wanted your weight in gold. And she probably weighs the same as you, give or take a few pounds. Whatever.”

“But you said you'd overlook it!”

“I said MAYBE I'd overlook it. It just turns out that...NO. I won't. But hey, look at the positives. You just got paid, as promised, and your sister has never been more valuable. I'd consider that a heck of a deal.”

Jack jokes and Jan struggles in Lynsie's grip to no avail as the woman growls in her ear.

“You should've seen this coming. You broke the rules.”

“What rules?”

“You are a hand for hire. You do as the employer wants and get paid accordingly. There are a set of basic standards to be held to. And you two did so poorly. Sloppy unprofessional conduct. Lack of progression contact. And gross levels of impertinence. Such impudence. You should be begging and licking his boots for your paltry life to be spared.”

“It's always the unprepared ones who end up in the worst predicaments. You have only yourself and your foolish sister to blame for this unfortunate turn of events.”

Jack re-covers the hand and puts it back on the shelf. Jan, realizing the dire situation she's in, pleads for her life.

“Please, I'll do anything you ask. Just spare me and, maybe, change my sister back, please!”

Jack contemplates Jan's plea for a moment, then bursts into malicious laughter.

“Change her back? Oh, you silly little thing you. The Midas Touch doesn't work that way. Once you're gold, that's it. There's no reverse switch on this thing.”

Jan's face contorts in horror as the reality of her predicament sinks in. Her sister will spend the rest of her days as a lifeless, golden statue. Jack nods to Lynsie and she lets Jan go much to the woman's confusion.

“You're...You're letting me go?”

Jack sighs.

“Well, yeah. Our business is done. I have what I wanted and you got paid. Unless, of course...”

“No, no! This is fine!”

Jack smirks.

“Good. Now then...”

*deep wood creaking*

The sudden sound gets their attention just as part of the ceiling gives out and a bear drops in, smacking a shelf and breaking the stained-glass window, a grappling hooked rope falling after. They turn to face this crazy interruption, now seeing so much more than expected.

“Great plan, Baby. Real cat-like.”

Goldilocks chides from above before she, Papa, and Mama Bear jump down into the room to join Baby Bear. This is The Three Bears Crime Family, a small-time crime family with Goldi as the leader.

Goldilocks is a young woman with golden blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin, and she wears a blue dress with white sleeves and a gown made of numerous mismatched strips of fabric, she wears boots and leggings, and she carries a wooden staff with two points and has pearl-like beads tied to it. She also wears mismatching jewelry, like beads, pearls, mismatched earrings, and beaded hair-ties holding her hair up in two frilly parts somewhat resembling bear ears, she gains a faint scar over her left eyebrow later in the film, and she has two locks of hair extending from the back of her head down her shoulders.

Papa Bear is the largest of the Three Bears. He is an old bear with grayish brown fur, wears a yellow knitted scarf around his neck, and has one yellow right eye while his left eye is scarred and blind. Mama Bear is smaller than her husband but still bigger than their son. She is a middle-aged bear with a warmer shade of brown fur, has a rounder face than Papa and Baby as well as more fur around her neck, wears a pink beret and two golden earrings on her right ear, as well as a single pearl earring on her left ear, and her eyes are green, and she appears to have a scar on her nose. Baby Bear is the smallest of the Three Bears, but is still quite big compared to normal adult humans. He is a young bear with lighter brown fur with a subtle shade of gold, has blue eyes, a notch in his right ear, and wears a chain necklace with a golden doorknob, a fork, and a cog.

With these four making themselves known, the hidden pair on the desk stand up to be seen holding the map from the now burgled chest. Predictably one of them is Kitty Softpaws. The other is also a talking outlaw cat...Puss in Boots.

Puss is a ginger tabby cat with green eyes and a Spanish accent. Most of his puffy coat of fur is stark orange, with more reddish-brown stripes running around his back, limbs, tail, and around his head. He has lighter yellow or creamy-white fur on his paws, his counter-shaded belly, the sides of his muzzle, his chin, and his eyebrows, as well as thin light stripes underlining his eyes. He also has a noticeable courser white guard fur throughout his coat. He has eyes distinct green eyes, the pupils of his eyes may be narrow, or huge and round when he exaggerates his cuteness. His eyelids have a noticeable dark lining, and "cat eye" style points at the outer corners of each eye. His whiskers can be twined together to form a curly "mustache". Puss wears some form of black, broad-brimmed leather hat, folded on the left side, a dull red hatband, and topped with a fluffy yellow feather. He has a black cape of leather with a silvery cat-shaped clasp. He wears a belt that holds his sword, black leather with a steel buckle. He sports his famed Corinthian leather boots, black with red lining, that cover most of his legs even when folded. He usually carries a cup-hilt rapier sword, with double quillons, varying degrees of ornamentation on the cup, and often a pommel resembling a stylized cat head with pointed ears but it seems to be missing and he instead has...a stick?

This scene is less than amusing to Jack and even more so to Lynsie who's rumbling low with growls. Seeing an opportunity, Jan picks up her sister and awkwardly moves to the door.

“Uh...Can I...go?”

His attention on more important matters, Jack couldn't care less and waves the woman off.

“Pleasure doing, uh...”

Jan rushes to get out of the room and the moment she pushes on the doors Lynsie kicks her from behind with enough power that the doors rebound back to a close. This sends Jan and her statue sister hurtling out and the golden gal lands on her living sibling, pinning her down. Such a sight causes a scene for the guards in the area and they see it as a wounded lamb was just thrown out to the wolves. Them being the wolves...She won't be leaving this place.

In the trophy room, a tense standoff commences between eight individuals.

“Puss in Boots?”

Goldilocks is confused by the cat being here to which he tips his hat to them.

“Goldi. Bears.”

Kitty, as if feeling the intense glare shot her way, turns to Jack and Lynsie to give a cute little wave.

“Hola, Jack. Lynn.”

Lynsie snarls back at her and Jack rolls his eyes at the feline.

“Kitty Softpaws. My, you have a lot of nerve coming back here.”

“Please. I was the best thief you ever hired.”

“You robbed me!”

“You set me up.”

“You said you were going on some spiritual retreat.”

Goldi accuses while pointing at Kitty and she just bows her head.

“Namaste.”

“And you're supposed to be dead.”

Goldi points at Puss and he's awkward about being put on the spot.

“I got better?”

Being played a fool by these cats irritates Goldi.

“Ugh! Just give us the map.”

“And throw in a dozen pies.”

Papa Bear adds much to Goldi's puzzlement.

“Eh?”

“Ooh! Have you got any savory pies?”

Mama Bear questions and Goldi is quickly losing control of the situation.

“What?”

“Yeah, what flavors you got?”

Baby Bear chimes in as Goldi is losing it.

“N-No.”

“Can we get all of that in a bag to go?”

Mama Bear asks Jack, the latter among the others in the room is incredibly confused by this exchange. But this is enough to make Goldi snap. She grabs the bottle of the shrunken ship of the Lilliputians and swings it around at the bears much to their shock.

“Ah! Would you stop talking about blooming pies?! Focus!”

She smashes the bottle on the desk, sending the ship and its people falling out violently...killing them.

“Hand over that map, or I'll punch holes in the lot of ya.”

Goldi threatens with the broken bottle and Lynsie cracks her neck.

“Don't make threats you can't back up, brat.”

Goldi is about to respond to that when the sound of creaking comes back, this time it's from the shelf that Baby had slammed into when he crashed in. The massive piece of furniture lurches forward toward the desk, its shelves holding numerous bottles containing all sorts of magic powders and potions.

“Oh, bums.”

Mama says and Papa tries to shield his family.

“Look out! It's coming down!”

Puss and Kitty, holding the map together, dive at Jack and Lynsie to avoid the chaotic crash. The resulting calamity fills the room with colors and smoke, disorienting the larger beings in the room. But the cats are low enough to the ground to elude the effects and find a means of escape. They unpin the magic carpet and ride it, doing a quick loop before hitting Jack and Lynsie as they bust out of the room. Lynsie is tossed onto a shelf, it falling on top of her to trap her, and Jack is pushed out of the room, nearly sent trembling down the stairs. Items scatter from the calamity of the room, a trident flipping to the edge of the doorway and skidding by Jack who grabs it in frustrated rage. He aims like an expert marksman, using his other hand to mark trajectory as he hones in on the flying carpet.

“I hate talking fairy-tale animals!”

With a mighty throw, he hurls the trident like one fires an arrow and hits it from halfway across the processing room, pinning it to the rafters above but also sending the criminal kitties plummeting to one of the pie-lined conveyor belts. Surprisingly, not landing on their feet. Kitty lands on her face and Puss rolls into the fall, coming out with the map in his paws. Jack sees this and gives a loud snap of his fingers, motioning the room's guards to go after the cats. Puss takes off and Kitty gives chase for the map.

“Puss, get back here!”

“The best thief has won.”

The cocky tabby boasts momentarily before hopping on one foot as he's now holding his boot and the map is gone.

“Huh?”

“You're right...”

Puss's attention is pulled to another conveyor belt that Kitty is now on...with the map.

“She did.”

“Oh, come on!”

Puss hurriedly gets his boot back on as Jack watches the cats mess with each other while the guards pursue. Yet something gets his attention. The lack of a certain someone that should be at the forefront of this retaliation attack. His shadow, the loyal dog that would rip a throat out with her teeth for him. He turns back to the trophy room just as someone comes out. Or more accurately, multiple someone. Three bears and an agitated blonde girl bust their way through, breaking the trophy room entryway while sending Jack head over heels to the floor below.

“There! They're getting away!”

Goldi points out Kitty fighting her way across the room, effortlessly jumping from guard to guard, pulling hats over eyes, kicking boots to their faces, and ripping the mustache off one poor unlucky guy. Truly Kitty is an excellent fighter and her skills are on full display. Shame the same can't be said about Puss who seems a bit rusty to action, getting his furry beard caught in some gears in the conveyor he's on. But they don't get to go after them. Not when Papa Bear roars out and swats his family on accident as he tries to grab at his back.

“Get 'er off me! Get 'er off me!”

Lynsie pulls hard on his scarf, using it as a brace and strangling aid. He bucks around trying to knock her off like he were a rodeo bull. He then tries to slam her into a wall but she kicks him hard in the kidney and brings him down. As if to add insult to injury, this small woman takes hold of the much larger bear's arm and chucks the beast at his loved ones with frightening ease.

“Stay down.”

She deviates her hard stare to the scene before her. Puss is restrained stupidly, he's no threat. Jack is picking himself up off the floor, rubbing his head to work out the dizzying feeling in his skull. And Kitty is at the end of the room standing over countless guards she's bested. This boils her blood immensely. She takes a step, ready to book it to Kitty and wring her neck like a wet rag.

“Oi!”

A pie smacks her in the face and she casts a murderous glare at Goldi.

“Don't think you can start somethin' and not finish it.”

Lynsie snarls but ignores the adolescent, her target is Kitty and the map.

“Jack!”

He only gets the faintest glimpse of her diving at him to react, catching her for a second then launching her forward with blinding speed towards Kitty. Being dismissed so easily ticks Goldi off yet she doesn't have time to stew, she regroups the bears and aims them to the conveyors, planning to climb them.

Kitty manages to knock out the last three guards before spotting the flung woman hurtling her way. With just mere inches to spare, Kitty stabs her dagger into one of the many industrial wheels and is pulled up as Lynsie pounces, her hand nearly grasping onto Kitty's tail as she hits the wall hard.

“Nice catching up with you, Puss! Gotta go!”

Kitty ascends more of the wheels upwards, either planning on using the windows or traversing the support beams for escape. Unfortunately for her, she's still not out of trouble yet. The hit to the wall did little to stop Lynsie, having let her shoulder take most of the impact and flooded with adrenaline, she climbs after the formidable feline.

On the other side of the room, Puss manages to yank his beard free just as the bears and Goldi reach him.

“Here, kitty kitty.”

Papa taunts from the back with Goldi atop him, Mama in the middle, and Baby in front. On instinct, Puss goes for his sword, only to pull out a simple stick much to his worrying chagrin. But it's all he's got as Baby approaches.

“Is that a stick? What are you gonna do with that? ...Ow!”

Puss tosses the stick at Baby's face, hitting right between the eyes, and the sudden pain knocks him off. Puss catches the stick as it rebounds but gets his foot stuck in a pie. Mama comes in, ready with a nasty claw swipe to avenge her boy, but Puss unintentionally smacks her paw when he wobbles off balance.

“Ow! Me knuckles!”

Mama falls off and Papa stops in front of Puss who got his other foot stuck in another pie. Not able to move so well, Puss thrusts the stick to poke the big bear's nose, much to Papa's unamused displeasure.

“You shouldn't have done that, mate.”

Puss smiles awkwardly, knowing he screwed up. Goldi watches from on her adoptive father's back as he sends the pathetic pussycat flying with a powerful paw strike. Puss cartwheels through the air, his unexpected flight path being towards where Kitty and Lynsie are.

“This idiot.”

Remarks Kitty with a roll of her eyes as she sees Puss, yet this brief pause is enough for Lynsie to snatch her by the scruff of the neck. Before she can get the map from Kitty, Puss collides with them and sends the three out the window. The fall is a great one and most unfair. The lighter cats get more distance and land in the back of the cart of the Serpent Sisters. Lynsie on the other hand, hits the lower awning that just so happens to be covered in spikes like much of the building and then spills down to the ground below with a guttural roar. The sound of all this alerts the courtyard guards and they come rushing in as the cart makes a break for it out of the facility for the city. A mob of guards run out on foot while some go after them on horseback.

Battered, Lynsie picks herself up with one arm since the other dislocated from repeated heavy trauma and regrettably heads back inside the factory. Or at least she tried, as Goldi and the Bears trample over her while making their escape since the majority of the guards are either unconscious or chasing the cats. Her pride has a significant dent in it but there's much worse gripping her than that. By the time she makes it back into the main area, some of the guards begin to regain consciousness, wearily eyeing her as she limps her way towards the trophy room as a guard runs out headed for the private kitchen. The Baker's Dozen are being summoned.

From within the shambled room, Jack looks about his once proud collection of treasures with disdain. His inner sanctum in one flew swoop was broken into and wrecked in less than ten minutes. But worse of all, the map was nabbed out from under his nose. He had it in his grasp, it was his, and now not. When Lynsie limps into the room he barely looks her way, his mind running with ideas for his next move.

“You look like crap.”

He remarks and she nods.

“I feel like it too.”

She moves over to him and holds her lifeless arm up with her good hand. It takes him a moment to piece together what she's asking before he grips her shoulders and forces the bad one inward, making her wince as the joint pops back into place. He lets her go and she tests her hand with a few flexes of her fingers.

“Thanks.”

“Don't thank me. You're no good to me broken.”

She averts her eyes to the floor as he removes his gloves.

“Assemble the strongest steeds we have. We're going after them.”

“Yes, Master Jack.”

She turns to leave him as he begins to go through the scattered items.

“Lynsie...”

She stops in her tracks, turning back to face him, her expression a mixture of pain and frustration.

“You're better than this. So don't get sloppy when I need you. We can't afford any setbacks. Not now. Not with my wish on the line.”

She flinches and that dreaded feeling of disappointment started to form in her gut. She slaps herself and her eyes narrow with renewed determination.

“I swear on my life, Jack, nothing is going to stop me from getting you your wish. Nothing.”

His initial frustration at the situation begins to wane as he recognizes the resolve in her voice. He admires her dedication.

“Good girl.”

He says, a hint of a proud smile tugging at the corners of his lips. With a nod, she turns and strides out of the room. She knows the pursuit won't be easy, but she's determined to prove herself to Jack and make sure to reclaim what's rightfully his. None are aware of the storm that's about to descend upon them. This is far from over, and the showdown for the Wishing Star promises to be an epic one.

In the meantime, Jack takes a deep breath, trying to calm his anger. He knows that he can't let his emotions get the best of him. He can't afford any more mistakes. He begins to prepare, clearing space on his desk, and grabbing a comically large by normal people standards carpet bag. The bag appears rustic and slightly worn, with umbrella patterns on its exterior which also compliments the umbrella it pairs with, both nabbed away from the magic nanny Mary Poppins. The guard that initially left to alert the Baker's Dozen returns to him.

“Sir, I've done as you requested. The Baker's Dozen are assembling.”

“Excellent.”

The woman moves to stand off to the side, ready to receive her next command, and watching him much to his confusion.

“What are doing?”

“Standing by and awaiting further orders, sir.”

He rolls his eyes.

“So you're going to hover around me like a vulture?”

“Sir, that's not my intent. I am merely taking post to serve as needed.”

“I don't need you.”

“But sir, you need someone to assist you. Let me prove I can do as well as Little Lynn. If not better.”

Such bold words hit him like a slap.

“You? Heh. That's quite the ego you have if you think you even come close. She's been with me for years and has proven herself countless times. And you? All of you idiots were beaten by a damn cat!”

Jack's voice dripped with malice as he berated the guard. He had little patience for insubordination, especially when it came from someone who had such gall. The guard, undeterred by Jack's scathing words, stood her ground.

“If I recall correctly, sir, so was she.”

He had to admit, this one had some guts to do this after the attack. He figures they expect him to be eager to replace Lynsie or at the very least be gunning for a better position in the wake of such vulnerability. It's too bad for this guard that Jack hates it when someone tries to manipulate him for their own gain. He comes up with a quick solution to this annoyance.

“If I were to tell you to jump, what would you do?”

The woman stands tall and proud.

“How high, sir?”

He smirks, expecting such an answer.

“Then you'd be incorrect.”

She tilts her head confused.

“Sir?”

“When I say jump, Lynn doesn't question why or where or distance. She jumps. Period. She knows what I expect and does so without hesitation.”

The woman's brow frowns.

“But speaking of how high...Careful with this.”

He tosses the umbrella to her and she catches the handle, activating it to open, which pulls her upward to fly out through the hole in the ceiling. Her yells echo into the vast silence of the sky.

“She also would've been smart enough to let go before getting too high. Idiot.”

With that distraction out of the way, Jack opens the bag and begins packing any useful random items into the bottomless bag.

“I'll take this and that, oh, and these!”

He grabs the hook of Captain James Hook, Poseidon's Trident, and a bandolier belt of the Evil Queen's poison apples.

“One of those, and I got to take that.”

He gets William Tell's crossbow, already pre-loaded with baby unicorn horns, and then breaks the glass case containing a wizard's staff.

“Yes. Yes. No.”

He shoves the staff into the bag, dumps a bunch of weapons inside, and then when he comes across Cinderella's glass slipper he tosses it over his shoulder as it has no use...it shatters to bit hitting a wall. He then shoves in Excalibur, still stuck in the stone, crams the crossbow in, and gets the cage holding the phoenix to be on top as he uses it to force everything else inside. Ember feathers fly out the sides as it all disappears into the bag.

“Yes!”

He grabs the bag and brings it up the the still intact shelves as he uses his arm to scoop everything into the bag's endless maw. Bottles of potions, powder, fairies, and who knows what all tumble into the bag.

“Oh, yeah!”

He handles everything with reckless abandon, trying to get as much as he can as fast as he can. Except when it comes to the Magic Snacks Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. One is a tiny beverage with a label that says "Drink Me" and the other is a delicate cake-like cookie with a label that says "Eat Me". When it comes to these treasures, he handles them with delicate care, even humming a jolly tune as he puts them into the bag. But once he's secured them inside he goes right back to a wild way of gathering.

“And all of these!”

He drags the bag's open mouth across the mantels of his fireplaces, scooping all manner of things inside, likes small chests to more bottles to even a sorcerer hat. He even dislodges the wall-mounted display holding the baby unicorn horns and shakes all of them off to fall into the bag with a chuckle...all fifty or more horns. No arsenal is complete without a means of tracking targets down. He comes to another shelf that holds a few miscellaneous goods, more personal kind of items like his lucky bowling ball that won him his first game against his father and a perfect game. But it's the object beside it that he's after and it's not the crystal-encased skull. No. He gets the crystal ball of the Wicked Witch of the West.

“This one is right.”

It's been quite some time since he's needed to use this item. Come to think of it, why didn't he use this before to monitor the Serpent Sisters? That would've saved him so much time and frustration! He kicks himself for such shortsightedness and bowls the orb into the bag like he's aiming for a strike against his old man.

With the trophy room pretty much emptied into his bag or broken and deemed useless, he picks up one last thing before heading out to the courtyard. As expected, when he emerges from the building where his best are ready for deployment on this grand mission. The Baker's Dozen are decked out for battle and place a large pumpkin in the center of the area. Lynsie has four of their strongest unicorns bound in chain reins eager to run and pull whatever they're going to be latched to. And that leaves Jack to apply the finishing touch.

With a magic wand, that he had stolen from the Blue Fairy as a spiteful jab at Pinocchio, Jack slams it into the pumpkin and lets go to allow the magic to go unrestrained. A massive cloud of blue smoke erupts from the pumpkin, engulfing it, transforming it, and spreading out to ensnare the chains on the unicorns' reins. As the structure begins to grow, they climb on and bust out the gates in an intimidating flourish. As if in a twisted mockery of how Cinderella had a pumpkin become a fancy royal carriage, what was once an ordinary pumpkin is now a death-bringing tank for Jack and his crew. The tank has a blend of wooden and iron materials, almost taking the appearance of a mobile half-timbered house. There are sharp spikes on the edges, much like the other décor Jack tends to use, and is complete with a canon mounted on the top.

The bakers shout as the unicorns whinny, the loud rumble that follows from the tank's thunderous approaching treads is enough to alert the townsfolk to get the hell out of the way. This thing isn't going to stop for hell or high water. Jack stands at the top, overlooking it all, and Lynsie sits atop the canon holding his bag. He reaches back and she opens the bag, letting him dig around till he has what he wants...the crystal ball. The magic swirls inside and it focuses on his quarry. Kitty and Puss ride in the back of the cart as a tiny dog drives it in what looks like a desert mountain range that's not too far away.

“I'll get you, my kitties, and your little dog too.”

A snicker comes from behind him.

“Something funny?”

“Just thinking that was a bit cute for a threat.”

He snorts.

“Don't patronize me. I need to focus.”

“Of course. Carry on, Master Jack.”

He knew she was just being playful to lighten the mood, which after everything that happened, a good laugh would be so nice right about now.

“Hey...Do you hear that?”

Over the sound of hooves in stone and the treads spinning with might, he doesn't seem to pick up on what she does. Suddenly it comes in fast. A scream gets louder before they see a body falling from the sky. A body in a Horner Pie Co. guard uniform slams into the ground at the edge of the city ahead of them. Despite the impressive fall, they writhe on the ground for a moment, lifting their head in "hey I didn't die" relief...Only to see the stampeding tank seconds before it runs them over. It's awkwardly quiet after the wet crunch is made. Out of nowhere, an umbrella whizzes by in the wind. Lynsie just shakes her head before giving a sharp whistle. The umbrella abruptly changes course and zooms towards them, shooting past Jack and Lynsie catches it in the bag.

“Do I even want to know?”

He merely chuckles, leaving her to dangle in not knowing as he resumes gazing into the crystal ball while the sun breaks the horizon. The chase is on. Three groups all going after the same prize and only one can have it. At least for Jack the odds are more in his favor. He's got backing him up near unlimited firepower and a loyal crew that wouldn't try to go for the wish themselves. He just has to get the map away from two pain-in-the-ass cats and some pissy orphan girl with her adoptive cockney bear family.

…

The journey is a long and arduous one. They traverse through the desert mountain range that becomes a mountainous craggy gulch. Jack maintains a magic visual on the map while the bakers steer the tank to follow the tracks left by the bears. The tracks go on for miles, Jack helping to keep the tank on the right track when the trail heads into a forestry zone, through a small village, back into more forest that eventually bleeds out to barren desert surrounded by craggy rock formations from a massive impact long ago. By the time the tank rolls up to the center where dark thrones make an imposing sight, the sky is dark with ominous thunderclouds that cover the top of the thorns, lightning striking the dark wood. This was the Dark Forest. A solid impenetrable mass of black twisted oaks and coiled brambles studded with razor-sharp thorns. Parked off to the side of a gaping cave mouth is the cart the cats used and in the dirt are the bear tracks. Not a very inviting place, but one they must enter.

“Once upon a time, a Wishing Star fell from the sky. Scorching a great woods black. The Dark Forest was born, the Wishing Star hidden at its center, filling it with new life, and the legend of a single wish locked away in the star, waiting to be granted.”

Lynsie recites from memory as they come to the cave opening, the unicorns pausing as the "cave" is more accurately a portal gateway. The magic resembling still water if said water was a wall like a black shimmering empty mirror.

“Alright, everyone. This is it...”

Jack announces, handing the orb to Lynsie as she puts it in the bag.

“This is going to be a gauntlet of pain and death. And, highly likely, some if not most of you will die. But that's nothing new to you. You're the baddest, meanest, nastiest, toughest cutthroats in all the land. Nothing gets in your way once you're on target. So, let's go get that map and make my wish come true!”

The Baker's Dozen let out a unified cheer of confidence, not deterred by the grim outlook Jack had just painted. They are loyal and battle-hardened, ready to face any challenge that comes their way. Jack nodded in approval, knowing that he could count on their unwavering dedication. The unicorns snort and paw at the ground, ready to charge through the portal. They grip the railings of the tank, bracing for what's to come, before the reins are snapped and the unicorns rear up, rushing them into the magic wall.

Portal magic can be a mysterious and unpredictable thing. Case in point, they all go tumbling through a prismatic-colored void, falling but lacking a sense of movement. The panicked screams some make are heavily distorted by the technicolor pulses that propel them through the barrier.

Suddenly the darkness of the void gives way and, much to their horror, the portal opens to them dropping from the sky. Luckily, if one can call it such, the bulk of the tank hits several wide-spread trees and cushions their impact enough that there's no real damage when they touch down on the ground. The unicorns are shaken. The bakers are hyperventilating. Jack is startled by his death grip on the railing, not expecting to feel such a need, and Lynsie clutching his coat from behind with one hand, the other gripping the bag, while leg-locked around the canon as if acting as his backup tether just in case.

As they take a moment to steady their nerves and gather their senses, they take in the surroundings, finding them nothing like the name "Dark Forest" would imply. On the outside, one would expect treacherous terrains and deadly obstacles due to the impact of the cosmic shock waves caused by a magic star impacting the world. Instead, the land is an enchanting wonderland of lush grass, colorful trees, and water that sparkles with stardust. The Dark Forest is full of bright, happy colors, much to their confusion.

“Is this the afterlife?”

“With how many lives we've taken over the years? I doubt we'd land in the good place.”

“I know. I meant this is Hell. This manic pixie kaleidoscopic nightmare hurts my eyes. It must be Hell.”

He chuckles at her words as she dismounts the canon to stand at his side.

“The trees seem spaced enough to make a pathway.”

“That just makes things easier.”

He stomps his heel to get attention.

“What are we waiting for? Get this thing moving!”

The tank jerks as it once more moves, speeding along the rich flower-lined grass. The clear path this made is eerily unnatural. Is this just something the forest does? Granting a small pity on those foolish enough to enter, disguised as kindness to lull victims in deeper, before going full apocalypse. Surely that's what has to be going on. There's no unconscionable way the place known for none ever returning is this wholesome land of sunshine and rainbows. These are the thoughts of the bitter souls of the group, the ones who know never to trust a good thing when it seems too good to be true.

The arid grove of what seems to be huge purple bonsai trees ends with a literal rainbow shooting across the sky above a lush multicolored meadow or flowers on rolling hills, the path of grass winding its way through it. The unicorns are a perfect match for this mission, as strong as Belgian Draft Horses and as fast as Thoroughbreds even without their horns. They can pull and run for days if needed without breaking a sweat, with four pulling the tank, it's no wonder they were picked out of all the other beasts in the stables.

As the drive continues, a strange sense of whimsy comes to some of the bakers. The motion of the tank as it goes up and down the hills, feels somewhat like the rocking of a ship at sea. Some get in touch with their old pirate lives, songs in their hearts flare and hums hit the air, but not a word leaves their lips. They know singing is the last thing they want to do while around Jack, yet the urge is still strong.

“Brings back memories, doesn't it?”

His brow arches curiously at her.

“How so?”

“I dunno. Like riding across the land with your parents.”

He groans.

“I hated that. I was used like an organ grinder's dancing monkey to draw in customers.”

“Still, might've been a little nice. Bad memories tend to overshadow the good ones.”

“Where's this coming from?”

She sighs slowly.

“There are times I would often find myself thinking...Just how different things would've been were I able to join your family.”

A small pause passes between them. Giving it a moment of thought.

“You wouldn't be the same if you did.”

It's a blunt statement on his end but it says so much.

“True. I'd likely only be half as useful. Possibly less. And that's no good.”

In a small gesture, he pats her head like an owner does to their pet. It's enough to make her smile. These little moments. So few yet held so dear. It's these things that bring back memories. Memories of a different time.

————————————————–

Another humiliating performance, singing and dancing for attention, and yet again the crowd is abysmal. Thankfully that living doorstop pretending to be a boy is moving on after today. Maybe then they can get some customers drawn their way. Elizabeth does her best to calm Jack down before he can through a fit over being ignored again, while Jonathan tends to the few customers partaking in their wares. The little town they were currently stationed at has a bakery that does nothing more than make bread, so the sweet goodness that is Horner pies is a sought-after treat, which means business isn't all bad. Provided the people didn't hurl all their coin at the other wagons that is. But, recently, the Horner family has been getting some extra aid. A little helper that goes unnoticed in the crowd. When the last sale is made and they walk away from the wagon, she comes out from hiding.

“Mr. Horner! Mr. Horner! Look how much I got.”

The seven-year-old girl excitedly bounces up to the wagon, a small leather sack in each hand that jingles with the delightful sound of coins pilfered from the surrounding competing attractions. Jonathan takes the sacks and beams with fatherly pride.

“My, these are heavy.”

“Did I do good, Mr. Horner?”

“You did very good, sweetie. Such a good girl.”

He pats her head and she giggles cheerfully.

“Can Jack come out now?”

A smirk comes to the man's face.

“I don't know. Let me ask him. Boy, you going to go play with your girlfriend?”

“Stop saying that!”

Jack shouts from within the wagon, stomping over to his father in an embarrassed huff.

“She's not my girlfriend!”

Jonathan playfully rolls his eyes, enjoying this. Ever since he learned of his son's possessiveness for her, he's been teasing Jack any chance he could.

“What? She's a girl that's your friend. That makes her your girlfriend~.”

Jack's face gets redder, his right twitching.

“She's not my—!”

“Jack!”

Lynsie climbs up into the wagon and takes his hand, pulling him away from his family.

“H-Hey, cut it out!”

Elizabeth looks out the window, seeing them scamper off.

“You two stay within view!”

She shouts at the children and then sighs, giving a knowing look at her husband who just chuckles.

“What?”

“You know he doesn't like when you tease him.”

“I know.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Because it's fun.”

She punches his arm and he laughs before offering the sacks of collected gold.

“I swear, you can be such a pain.”

She snatches the sacks, pouring the coins onto the table to begin counting.

“I also do it because he needs it.”

She looks up at her husband.

“What do you mean?”

“You and I both know he's not the easiest to get along with. He's impulsive, abrasive, and antisocial. I can blame all the wandering we do for making things hard on him, but that's just how he is. He loves attention but hates being around others. It makes me worry for him, you know? This world isn't kind. Even the strongest people need someone they can turn to when the time comes. I have you after all.”

Jonathan, master of the Horner charm, easily makes his wife melt with that line before he continues.

“I was beginning to think he'd be his own worst enemy and close himself off. Then, low and behold, he surprises us by showing up with her after throwing a tantrum.”

He watches from the wagon's stage, keeping an eye on the pair off in the distance. Jack already fuming at Lynsie and she shrinks a bit till the boy settles.

“The boy may not admit it, or even understand it, but he likes her. Heh. Still can't believe he demanded we keep her because "she belonged to him". That boy is most definitely a Horner.”

Elizabeth chuckles.

“He takes after his father.”

Jonathan smirks at her jab with pride.

“It's a shame we can't though. Poor kid could use a loving family.”

She pouts at this. Saving the neglected girl from her abusive home would be nice and they'd be gaining a daughter at the same time. But they can't afford another family member in their current state. Not to mention taking someone else's child is frowned upon.

“She'd be good for him. Such a soft, patient, and kind girl like that is just what that rough-around-the-edge boy needs. Strong enough to not let his harsh exterior bother her but accepting enough to just let him be himself. Finding someone like that is rarer than a needle in a haystack. And if he doesn't see why, he'll lose the one possible connection he could make in his life.”

Elizabeth listens, still focused on counting the coins but now with a sad contemplative expression.

“Have you told him we're moving on to another town soon?”

The amusement in his face fades.

“No...”

That surprises her.

“I haven't had the heart to ruin this for them.”

He sighs somberly.

“I...I don't want their last few days together to be sad ones.”

Out into the grass, Lynsie pulls Jack till they're a good distance away, letting him go and getting flicked on the forehead by him, making her yelp at the sting.

“I was telling you to stop, Lynn! How dumb are you to not listen?!”

“I'm sorry...”

“You're always sorry. I thought I told you to knock it off with the apologizing?”

She takes a step back, her eyes downcast as she nervously fidgets with the hem of her dress.

“Please don't be mad.”

“Why not? You dragged me out here! And for what?”

“You were getting upset...”

Her voice cracks a little and it gets to him.

“So I thought bringing you over here would make it better. That way, you would be okay.”

Letting himself calm down, he could see her simple logic and how it wasn't a bad idea. Still, he doesn't like being touched so he's not feeling too bad about it. With a sigh, he runs a hand through his hair to center himself.

“Whatever. Just...Just don't grab me like that again, okay?”

She nods, relieved that he's not as angry as he initially seemed.

“Okay. I promise.”

He grumbles but lets it go, looking around to make sure they're still within view of his family. He huffs as he sits down on the grass, staring off into the sky. She tentatively sits beside him, careful not to invade his personal space. After a moment of awkward silence, she decides to break it.

“Um...Jack...Can I ask you something?”

He glances at her.

“Sure. What is it?”

“What's it like?”

“What's what like?”

“Being cared for.”

That caught him for a moment. She hadn't revealed too much about her home life, keeping tight-lipped when it came to some stuff, but he's not stupid. It doesn't take a genius to tell her mom is beating her and is the reason she steals for food. It's no wonder she clings to him even when he can be a jerk. Still, it's not something he gave thought to before. He just figured all parents were like his...till he met her that is. He guessed he was lucky there.

“It's okay.”

“You have a good mom and dad. They're really nice. Even to me.”

“Well, you do help us out. So it's a given.”

She looks at him funny.

“So...If I keep helping, your parents will stay nice to me?”

“I mean, I guess.”

“And if I'm helpful, you'll be my friend?”

He hesitates for a moment, looking at her with a mix of confusion and curiosity. The simplicity of her questions catches him off guard, and he finds himself grappling with the notion of friendship in a way he hadn't before.

“Maybe.”

He responds, shrugging nonchalantly. Her eyes light up and she smiles brightly, the sun catching them just right to make them shine.

“Really? You mean it?”

He rolls his eyes, trying to maintain his cool demeanor.

“Yeah, yeah, don't get all mushy about it. You're just lucky you're useful. ...And I suppose you're not too annoying.”

She giggles, clearly delighted by the affirmation. He, though gruff on the outside, feels a warmth within him—a sense of something that he hadn't felt until this moment. It makes him feel weird. He doesn't like it.

“But don't go telling everyone we're friends.”

She nods, her smile unwavering as she motions zipping her lips.

The two sit in companionable silence for a while, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Jack finds himself lost in thought, contemplating her question about being cared for. Her innocent inquiry brings a new perspective to his own experiences. He finally speaks after some time, his tone more thoughtful than usual.

“Being cared for is like...I don't know. It's just normal, I guess. My parents take care of me, so I help out with making and selling pies. It's what families do.”

She rests her chin on her knees absorbing his words, looking out into the distance.

“I wish I had that. I don't know my dad. Mom isn't very nice. My brothers and sisters aren't any better. You're lucky. You have a very good family. I'm just glad I get to be around you. So now...Now I know what it's like. To be around people that don't hurt each other. ...That don't hurt me.”

Her voice weakens as her eyes well with moisture and he frowns slightly, a rare display of empathy crossing his features. Seeing her being vulnerable like this is weird. Because even though she's covered in bruises and scars, just a mess you'd think was living in the woods, she always holds a strength in her that can be seen in her eyes. Yet right now...she looks truly weak. Defeated.

“You know, you don't have to take it.”

She glances at him from the corner of her eye.

“If I were you, I wouldn't take any of it. You're not a dog. A dog doesn't get a choice. Stop rolling over and letting it happen. Do something about it! Or don't. It's up to you. It's no skin off my nose if something bad happens to you. It's your life. Your choice.”

She turns to face him, a mix of gratitude and sadness in her eyes. It makes him uncomfortable. He scoffs, trying to deflect the sincerity of the moment.

“Don't look at me like that. You're making it weird.”

She just giggles, finding his fluster cute. It only bugs him more and he shoves her.

“Knock it off. I don't want them thinking weird stuff.”

He looks back at his family's wagon and she tilts her head, confused.

“Weird stuff? Like what?”

He bites his thumb, struggling to find the right words.

“Forget it. It's nothing.”

“Is this about the stuff your papa says?”

He scowls at her, cheeks reddening.

“Just drop it.”

Picking up on his agitation, she moves closer and he flinches.

“W-What are you doing?”

“You don't have to bottle it up. But I won't make you talk if you don't want to. I just want you to know I'll listen. I always will.”

He shifts uncomfortably, not used to someone offering him an open ear without judgment. He glares at the grass beneath him, a mixture of frustration and vulnerability swirling within him. She, undeterred, patiently waits for him to speak or not, respecting his silence. After a moment of internal struggle, he grumbles.

“You really are weird. You know that?”

She remains silent and maintains her gaze, her eyes reflecting a genuine concern that both surprises and unnerves him. He's not accustomed to someone caring about him beyond the superficial interactions he's used to. Despite his attempt to push her away, a part of him is intrigued by her persistence.

“Like, you don't have to come see us. You don't have to do anything that you do when it comes to us.”

He looks at her, his expression softening a bit but seeming off.

“What I don't get is...Why?”

She tilts her head, contemplating the question before answering with a small smile.

“Because...You were nice to me.”

The simplicity of her response catches him off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless. He's not accustomed to people attributing kindness to him, and her straightforward acknowledgment touches a part of him that he doesn't understand He scoffs, attempting to mask his discomfort. It's a rare glimpse behind the tough exterior, a crack in the facade that only she seems to be able to create.

“Nice to you? I'm not nice to anyone. I just...tolerate you. That's all.”

She just smiles more, unfazed by his attempt at deflection.

“That's fine. As long as I get to help you, then I'm happy.”

————————————————–

Funny how so much and yet so little has changed since then.

“You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?”

Jack asks, removing his hand from her head and noticing she tried to lean back into it.

“A little, I suppose. Though, I can't help but have his feeling like something's off.”

“Like what?”

“Not sure. We're in the Dark Forest for crying out loud. Everything is way too peaceful. It's unsettling.”

“I hate to agree with you, especially since I'd prefer things remain easy peasy, but you make a point.”

“Mr. Horner!”

Ben Yay gets their attention as he climbs up to the top and points out far ahead.

“Over there, can you see it?”

Jack and Lynsie squint, focusing as best they can as the tank goes uphill. In the distance, distinguishable from all the bright warm colors, they barely spy a splotch of dark brown as it goes over a hill of its own. This could only mean one thing...Bears.

Lynsie growls at this, while she'd rather vent her blood lust on Kitty, she did have beef with Goldilocks for also busting into the factory. So a tussle with them would be a good warm-up for the real fun to come. Jack looks at her with a smirk. He could see it in her eyes, that killer edge that was always restrained till the moment was just right. He'd get his moment to enjoy it soon enough. But for now, he had other plans on his mind. Now was his turn for a bit of fun and payback.

“I'll be taking this, thank you.”

He snatches the bag from her hands. It has her looking at him expectantly.

“Be a good girl and speed this thing up.”

“Yes, Master Jack.”

A devilish smirk comes to her as she vaults over the top railing, nearly hitting a few of the bakers as she then leaps off the lower railing to bound and land on the back of the aqua unicorn in the front right side. This seems odd to the bakers till they look up and manage to get out of the way in time as Jack hops down to the lower part with them, making things just slightly crowded till they move around more. From her mount on the unicorn, Lynsie squeezes with her legs to make it go faster, this causes it to pull ahead of the others, and in turn, the other three speed up to match it. This nifty speed-up does the trick. The tank gains ground and does so at a rate that soon makes closing in on the bears as easy as pie.

The bear family gallop with great haste, given how bears of their kind can hit speeds of thirty-five to forty miles an hour, they're making excellent progress considering their only means of direction has been Baby Bear's keen scent tracking. Even now as they run, he has his nose on the job and sniffs the air.

“Oh! We're getting really close. I can smell two cats, a dog...”

A sudden fruit smell hits his senses. One that is far too sugary to be natural. But it's a scent he knows.

“And pie?”

The bears and Goldi look back to see the charging tank barreling towards them rapidly.

“Well, if it isn't the idiots who tried to steal from me.”

Jack says with a sneer.

“Hey, he remembered us.”

Baby remarks in astonishment much to Goldi's chagrin. As the tank's approach continues, Jack opens his bag, digging around before he gets his hands on something. Holding the bag for Jack on his left is Sir Thomas Brady Fingers and standing on his right doing the same is Rhu-Barb. Jack, arms deep in the bag, grips a sword handle and pulls to bring it out. A holy light shining down.

“Behold, Excali...”

He pulls but the sword is jammed. The light dims in a flicker as he tries again to get it out.

“Excali...”

It gets stuck again and he gets frustrated. Trying one more time, he hikes a leg up to place it down somewhere higher for extra leverage. This place, however, just so happens to be the side of Sir Thomas's face. With some grunts of effort, Jack pulls the sword out and holds it aloft with one hand, a mighty impressive feat considering this is a two-handed broad sword with a giant stone stuck on the tip.

“Excalibur!”

The blessed light shines on the blade before it dissipates.

“Yeah, I couldn't get this rock off of it, but still pretty cool, right?”

The display is still impressive to the bakers and they give gestures of approval and awe. The tank speeds on as Jack positions himself on the outside of the railing while Sir Thomas, Rhu-Barb, and Jerry Cobbler hold him by his coat to prevent him from falling off, using their combined weight to counterbalance him.

“He's gaining on us!”

Mama Bear exclaims, the distance being closed quickly.

“Okay, little left.”

Jack orders while looking down the sword like an aiming sight. Lynsie tugs on the unicorn's straps and gets the animals to move as directed.

“That's it!”

Jack grins and slings the sword over his right shoulder, ready to swing the weapon like a massive club.

“Go faster!”

Goldi urges as the tank pulls up to run alongside them, the unicorns blocking off Mama Bear whose fur stands on end seeing the fire in the eyes of Lynsie. But this is nothing. Jack is now dead center with Papa Bear who's running up the middle with Goldi on his back.

“Whoa, he's up me back door...”

Like a barbarian aiming to slay whatever beast in his path, Jack swings the sword with so much force that when the stone hits Papa Bear, not only does it send the great bear hurtling into his family, but it breaks half of the stone off Excalibur enough to see the tip of the blade once more. The collision has Goldi and the bears sent rolling down the hills, disappearing into the dense forest of trees below. Jack laughs with delightful glee at this, one less obstacle in his way to his wish and he got to have fun doing it. Bonus!

With this taken care of, he discards Excalibur much to some dismay, climbing back over the railing to take his place at the forefront and reclaim his bag. The hills stretch on what feels like endlessly. Up and down, the same array of brightly colored flowers arranged in the same rows repeated infinitely. It's rather nauseating to endure for so long. So when the pattern finally is broken by the sight huge valley of deep blue, it's like a wave of relief washes over them. Spurned on by this new development, the tank charges ahead aggressively, mowing down flowers under the remorseless treads. As they breach into the sea of blue posies, things seem fine, the flowers are nothing compared to the strength of the tank. But once they reach the middle of the valley things change. The small flowers begin getting bigger. The blossoms turn their bulbs toward them as if staring in acknowledgment of their presence. And a massive wall of the thorny mega-flora shoots out of the ground to block them. Lynsie yanks hard on the rein straps, forcing an emergency stop that has them skipping slightly to an abrupt halt. The unicorns whinny, unsettled by the posies, and she eases them with some pets. Jack looks at this inconvenience and is unimpressed. A bunch of flowers? Really? This is the best the Dark Forest can do? What a joke.

“Well...?”

He eyes his, for some reason, prone minions.

“Start chopping!”

He barks and the bakers flinch back to being in the moment.

“On it! You don't have to tell me twice.”

Jerry says as he dismounts the tank, the other bakers following suit. This was their chance to do something after riding for so long. And it's just a bunch of flowers. Sure they're huge flowers. But they are battle-hardened brutes, they have fought and killed way tougher things. This was going to be a cakewalk with how easy it is. Their confidence and pride are at an all-time high. Jerry struts up to a posy, his battle axe that was made from an incredibly sharp cheese grater held up like he's about to cut the thing down like he's Paul Bunyan.

“I'm gonna chop the heck out of this Ficus lyrata-!”

The posy he was about to swing into brings its head down and engulfs him completely. The flower pulls back up to resume its stance and reveals Jerry once more, only now he is very much dead. Reduced to a mere skeleton, still in his swinging pose, but his axe is now missing. This is quite a shock to all.

“Jerry, no!”

Betsy Crocker exclaims, breaking down on her knees in mournful horror. The killer posy, as if to make a point, spits the axe out and sends it flying at the tank, lodging it within mere inches from where Jack stands...making him flinch. This is the turning point at which the Dark Forest goes from alluringly sweet and gentle to downright demonic. The posies go on the attack, revealing in their blooms maws lined with rows of sharp teeth like a shark, the bakers being their primary targets due to them initiating things and brandishing weapons. One of them, Crustina, leaps to get back onto the tank only for a posy to swoop under and snatch her lower half in its jaws. She doesn't make it to the tank but she does get close enough to grab Jack's arm.

“Avenge me, Jack!”

She knows how he'll react, it's to be expected when in the service of Jack Horner, so when he jerks his arm away and casts her aside to fend for herself she isn't surprised. She merely grabs onto the railing and uses her giant meat cleaver to hack away at the flower that's attempting to swallow her alive.

“Die, die, die!”

She yells at the plant, her blade chipping away at the petals of the hungry blossom as its mouth inches higher up her torso. It's at this point that Lynsie has seen enough to assess what to do and springs into defensive countermeasures. She bounds up to Jack, recovering Jerry's axe, using it to cleave the stalk under the bulb consuming Crustina, and rescuing the poor woman.

“Get in the tank!”

But Jack is a bit too overwhelmed to heed Lynsie's words and snaps back at her.

“Don't tell me what to do!”

She's about to speak up again when vines begin to slither up and she leaps away to avoid while going after another distressed baker. Unsettled, Jack turns away from the sight, only to see Rhu-Barb atop the tank's high-point with thorn-laced vines ensnaring her as she uses her oversized cake beater which functions like a minigun mixed with a chainsaw to fend them off...it doesn't work. She's snagged faster than a rabbit in a hunter's snare trap, ironically saving her from a posy that was coming up behind her intending to munch her up.

“Nope.”

This is too much for Jack and he vaults over the side, bag in hand, just narrowly avoiding a posy swooping down after him. Once nestled beside the treads, he notices the unicorns appear to be spared from all the chaos, so he concludes he'll be safe while near them. He pops the bag open and starts digging. Refusing to sit this out when he's got an unlimited mystical arsenal at his fingertips.

“Time to bring out the big guns!”

He knows there's something in this treasure trove of collected curiosities that he can use to end this predatory posy problem. Meanwhile, in the background, Lynsie darts around with the axe and aids the bakers with the proximity of the tank, such as Stevia when she gets stuck in the gullet of a posy. One by one, Jack pulls random items from the bag. A sentient broom, taken from a sorcerer's apprentice, that scampers off aimlessly and gets eaten by a posy. A spinning wheel with a spindle of spun gold, taken from Rumpelstiltskin of all people, is tossed to the wayside.

“Guess I overpacked.”

He chuckles to himself, finding some humor in this stressful situation. The next thing he's able to grab is the "Drink Me" bottle and the "Eat Me" cookie.

“Magic snacks. Save those for later.”

He puts them back with care and keeps rummaging around till he bumps into something promising.

“Ah ha! Pay dirt!”

He pulls out a rather large bottle that's casting an eerie glow. He yanks the cork out and dumps the contents into his palm. What falls into his hand is a bug, an overgrown ominous insect that is glowing to the point it's a little blinding. But he's sure he's got the thing he needs for this scenario. He points the bug towards some of the posies that are currently trying to eat some of the bakers.

“All right, magical locust, defoliate! Fly and feast! Eat those flowers!”

At the command, the bug...stands up? The glow is gone and now things don't seem right, at least, not from Jack's point of view.

“I-I'm not a magic locust. Why, I'm not a locust at all.”

This is true.

“What are you then? Some sort of demon grasshopper? A deadly fairy? Put a spell on the forest then.”

Close, but wrong again. It's not a locust or grasshopper. It's a cricket. A big light green humble cricket that has six spiny limbs with two being used as arms with green fingerless gloves and four being used as legs that have brown shoes on. A small brown plaid flat cap sits between its two long antennae and its two large innocent blue ping-pong ball eyes. A yellow dickey holds a tiny purple bowtie and looks remarkably sharp with his pair of brown plaid overalls, matching his cap, it's wings twitch occasionally.

“I-I don't cast spells.”

The bug and Jack are just confused at this point.

“Well, what DO you do?”

“Well, I-I-I judge you. I sit on your shoulder and judge your actions and the quality of your character.”

The bug flies up and perches on Jack's shoulder.

“I'm your conscience.”

That's when it dawns on Jack.

“I really DID overpack.”

As if to remind Jack that there is a tense messed up situation around him, Butter Scott is smacked into the tank and is jammed into the railing space.

“Whoa!”

A posy chomps down on Butter's lower half and pulls relentlessly. Butter attempts to hold the railing.

“Help me, Jack! Help!”

But, of course, a simple man is no match to the power of these posies, and with a mighty hard pull, Butter is thrown across the field screaming his lungs out. A sight that worries the cricket. However, it worries more as Jack turns his back to the scene and resumes digging into his magic bag

“Aren't you gonna help him, Jack? You're losing a lot of men.”

Not true. Yes, it all looks bad...very bad...Yet Lynsie is running around and keeping the casualties from getting worse. But despite this, much to this ethical bug's dismay, Jack is as calm and disconnected as can be. This is nothing but a minor inconvenience after all.

“I'm not really stressing about the manpower. I've got a bottomless bag of magic weapons. These babies are gonna get me that wish even after the whole team is dead and gone.”

He giggles as he explains, even ducking with fluid ease as a boot whizzes by and stepping back when a bootless Pete Cobbler soon is hurled but then is tackled out of the air by Lynsie who then goes after the problematic posy that threw him. This bugs the bug and it attempts to explain why this is not an okay.

“Now, now, Jack, as your conscience, I...”

Its words are cut off by the squawks of the phoenix as Jack pulls it out of the bag, a proud smirk on his face at the bug's astonishment.

“Oh, my word! It's the noble phoenix. She's the symbol of rebirth and the eternal...Oh, God!”

While the bug was distracted glorifying the phoenix, Jack had gripped the majestic bird like it were a musket and begun to stretch the bird's neck to force its flame breath to spew out, much to Jack's enjoyment and the bird's pain.

“Pretty boss flamethrower, right?”

Jack uses the phoenix to fight back against the ravenous posies, searing them in intense magical heat.

“I really have my work cut out for me on this one.”

The bug watches in reluctant disbelief as Jack brings hell upon these demonic flowers. The feral flora screech in anguish, writhing in agony as they burn. The bakers are dropped, they aren't a priority when, you know, being set on fire and burning to death! But this does save them...though some do get burned.

“Don't be near where I'm flame-throwing.”

With the posies no longer attacking due to the phoenix's fire, the bakers recover and slowly begin to regroup. Lynsie takes count of those that remain, eleven out of thirteen seem to still be here until Butter drags himself back from his far-flung adventure to make it twelve. The only death is Jerry. She'd prefer zero casualties but one is better than more. With the axe casually over her shoulder, she collects the bag as she comes to Jack's side and watches him gleefully show these flowers who is boss.

“Well, this was a fun little ring around the roses. Wouldn't you agree?”

“Oh yeah. I'm having a blast!”

She chuckles before going silent in a double-take noticing the bug on his shoulder.

“Uh...What is that?”

“Yeah, apparently this is a thing now.”

The bug bows and tips its hat.

“Gimini Stewart's the name, ma'am. It's nice to meet you.”

She smiles at it.

“How polite.”

She gives it a nod then looks at the phoenix, a feeling of remorse comes o her.

“Master Jack, this isn't right.”

Jack cocks his brow. This gives the bug some hope.

“Oh, thank goodness! Yes, explain to him this isn't a good thing to do.”

As if ignoring the bug entirely Jack turns his head to give her his attention.

“Oh yeah? And why's that?”

“Because...You should be doing this while on the tank.”

The bug's jaw slacks.

“That way, we can continue our journey while fending them off.”

This is logical thinking. But the bug is displeased.

“No! That is a...”

“Great idea!”

The bug is dumbfounded as Jack backs up to the tank's side and, with her providing herself as a step, climbs up on the treads before being aided over the railing. With a whistle from Lynsie, the bakers gather back onto the tank and she snaps the reins. The unicorns bray, backing up some, nervous about being ushered to charge at fire. But another hard snap forces them to obey. They rush forward through the burning wall of posies. The speed at which they move spares them from getting burned, at most it feels like they're being hit with oven-roasting heat. The phoenix's fire burns with enough intensity that, as they trample their way through, the stems split into embers.

In only mere moments, the lush valley of beautiful blue flowers is cast in a sea of scalding golden death.

After some distance, much like when they entered but in reverse, the growth of the flowers recedes by getting smaller and smaller till they are more recognizably normal size. It's during this foliage reduction that Jack eases off on the phoenix, letting it go altogether once things are okay. The scared bird gives a harsh peck to Jack's head in retaliation before it takes off. Lynsie keeps an eye on the bird till it disappears from her sight. She did so enjoy the phoenix's presence in the trophy room. Alas, she mutters a silent farewell to the phoenix she called “Ember” and gets her attention back on the path.

There's a canyon area up ahead but it's proceeded by what looks like a small forest. A small yet thick forest of brambles. The path seems to continue like normal but there are some hindrances to make things difficult to follow. A thin dense fog coats the ground to give an ominous look to the dark greenery. Rambling thorns, roots, and vines are interwoven into the surroundings at the edge of the valley. The larger-than-life vines look threatening, hollow tortured faces form between the thorns, and the sounds they make as the wind passes through them either come off as horrid shirks or wailing moans. This doesn't seem like much compared to the last thing they dealt with. So, not concerned about this in the slightest, Jack moves to enter the inside of the tank with his magic bag clutched tightly.

“You got this handled, right?”

Lynsie gives Jack a thumbs up.

“Good girl.”

With a slam of the door, the bakers look to Lynsie and she rubs her faintly flushed face.

“Okay, you lot. No foolishness this time. We're not taking chances here. Not when we have a freaking tank with a working canon. I mean, come on. It just makes sense.”

Considering what happened last time, this is viewed as a smart move.

“Tommy! Pete! Man the canon and clear our way. We have a map to get.”

Tommy Lee Scones and Pete Cobbler climb to the top, they position the canon forward, and then as Tommy braces the canon Tommy pulls the firing cord. Out of the canon shots a huge cast iron pumpkin seed. It blasts through the vine and roots like a rail spike splitting timber. The sound of crashing goes on for quite some time.

“It's all hollow.”

Cinnaman remarks.

“If it's all hollow, then it's all dead. And if it's all dead, then we can smash on through!”

Stevia exclaims.

“Keep firing!”

Lynsie orders and they continue to unload blast after blast. After a good number of shots, Lynsie lifts the axe as a sign to cease firing. The forest settles. Light breaches the darkness, the fog thinning more. With this in mind, Lynsie points the axe forward.

“Onward. For the glory of Jack Horner!”

A roar of cheers comes from the bakers and they set off into the cleared way they've made. Meanwhile, inside the tank, Jack sighs with relief and plops down on the surprisingly cushier interior. Despite the rough and tough exterior, the inside is that of lavish comfort. The walls and ceiling are lined in red plush cushions, gold molding outlines the cornering, a wraparound magenta sofa encompasses the area except where the door is, thick carpeting on the floor, a gem above provides soft light, and porthole windows on four sides. Gimini flutters down to perch on Jack's knee.

“Are you really going to sit back and relax while your crew faces danger out there?”

Gimini asks, his tiny cricket voice tinged with disapproval. Jack merely lounges back indifferently, a smirk on his face not perturbed in the slightest.

“Of course. They can handle it. They're the best at what they do.”

Gimini can't help but shake his head at Jack's cavalier attitude.

��But as their leader, shouldn't you be out there with them?”

Jack leans forward, placing his hand under Gimini and lifting the cricket closer to his face.

“Listen, you worry too much. Just relax and enjoy the ride. They got this covered.”

Gimini sighs, realizing that reasoning with Jack might be futile.

“I just hope you won't regret your decisions later.”

Back outside the tank, Lynsie and the bakers continue their journey through the peculiar forest. Their eyes peeled for any slight change or movement, knowing that appearances can be deceiving in the Dark Forest. As they traverse deeper, the path becomes narrower, and the thorns and brambles grow thicker, creating an even more daunting obstacle. But this hindrance is nothing when they have a tank and relentless determination on their side. The tank's cannon roars to life again, blasting through a particularly dense thicket of thorns, and a path opens up ahead. The bakers cheer, appreciating the firepower of the tank. They continue their journey, pushing through the enchanted forest. As they navigate the labyrinth of trees, the distant smell and sound of water reach their senses. There must be a river cutting through the canyon. Using this, they follow the sound, making it an invisible guide to usher them out. Light begins to shine through more naturally and stone breaks up the plant life. As they approach the forest edge the canyon becomes clear, large solid dusty red rock is too much to gauge how long it goes on, but it's tight a narrow. The tank finds an open path and carefully enters this new location.

Inside the tank, Gimini watches the bakers through the porthole windows, observing their progress.

“They're a tough bunch.”

Jack remarks, a hint of pride in his voice. Gimini nods, conceding.

“Yes, they are. But they're also risking their lives for you.”

Jack leans back in his plush seat.

“You say that like they don't know that.”

Gimini flies back over to him.

“Now, Jack, while it's good to have faith in your friends...”

“They're not my friends.”

Gimini gives Jack a puzzled look.

“Surely that can't completely be the case. How can you not consider any of them friends?”

Jack leans closer to Gimini, his voice lowering as he speaks.

“They're tools, a means to an end. Loyalty is just a byproduct of their usefulness.”

“Well, what about her?”

Jack cocks his brow in puzzlement so Gimini flies over to a porthole window and opens it, pointing to Lynsie through the glass. It takes a moment to register who the bug means by "her" and for a moment, he seems lost in thought.

“What about her?”

“Now, Jack, I'll admit I couldn't see much in that bottle I was in. But I could see enough to know you see her differently.”

This has Jack glare.

“Different? How? In what way? Because do tell, I'd love to hear what you think.”

His sarcasm is so thick it makes molasses seem like sugar water. Gimini doesn't seem perturbed by Jack's sarcasm and maintains a thoughtful expression. He's a persistent little bug, and he's determined to get through to Jack.

“Well...I think there's a bit more trust and respect given to her than you give the others.”

Jack just rolls his eyes.

“And what gives you that brilliant idea? She's my personal guard. Of course I trust her. I wouldn't have someone guard me that I couldn't. I don't need anyone analyzing me or my motives, let alone, some bug that thinks it's a psychotherapist!”

Gimini hovers closer to Jack, his eyes filled with curiosity.

“You seem a tad defensive.”

“I am not defensive!”

Tapping on the window gets their attention. From the outside, Lynsie motions if Jack is okay. Seems his shout was a bit louder than he intended. Jack just waves her off and with a nod she moves away from the window. Not wanting any more of that, he scoots over enough to close the windows once more. Gimini seizes this opportunity.

“Sure was nice of her to check in on you.”

“That's part of her job. You read too much into things.”

“Then how about you tell me how you see things? What does she mean to you?”

Jack remains defensive, crossing his arms.

“Mean to me? You ask that like I care about her. Which I don't!”

Gimini knows this is a tricky thing to navigate, but he keeps pushing by using something Jack can't deny.

“So do you normally punish others that devalue her?”

Jack grumbles under his breath and his expression tightens, but he doesn't respond. Gimini hovers over and lands on Jack's shoulder.

“You've seen it, haven't you? There's admiration in her eyes—the dedication and loyalty in her actions. You may want to deny it, but I believe she's more than just a personal guard to you. She's a partner, a confidante, someone you can rely on. And deep down, you value her presence more than you let on.”

Jack scowls and he's clearly uncomfortable with this line of conversation. He mutters something as if talking to himself.

“You don't know anything about me, bug. I've survived in this world by using people as I see fit. Loyalty and trust? Those are just tools, I wield them like no other. Emotions are a weakness, and I won't let them cloud my judgment.”

Gimini remains undeterred, his tiny cricket body radiating a sense of determination.

“But Jack, feelings aren't a weakness. They're a strength. Opening up to someone and forming a genuine connection can make you stronger. Why, there's nothing more powerful in this great big world than the power of...”

“Don't even think about saying "friendship" or I swear...”

“You really shouldn't swear. No one likes a potty mouth.”

Jack glares at Gimini, clearly annoyed with the bug.

“You're an irritating little bug, you know that? Trying to get into my head like you're my damn shrink or something.”

Gimini chuckles softly.

“Well, that's part of my job as your conscience, isn't it? To be the embodiment of the moral goodness or blameworthiness of one's own conduct, intentions, or character together with a feeling of obligation to do right or be good whether one wants to acknowledge it or not.”

“Look, you can call yourself "my conscience" or whatever, but you're not. So knock it off!”

Gimini remains calm, undeterred by Jack's defensiveness.

“I-I-I'm here to guide you, Jack. I know you have a goal, but remember, the journey is just as important as the destination. Don't forget the people who stand by your side, even if it's just for their usefulness. Sometimes, true friendships can emerge from unexpected places.”

Jack rolls his eyes once more and mutters under his breath.

“I don't need any life lessons from a cricket.”

Jack lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair to compose himself into his normal. Gimini frowns but doesn't push the matter further. He realizes that he might have pushed too much on this kind of thing and done so too soon. It would be futile to try anything further...For now at least. So instead, he switches his focus. If Jack isn't going to open up about himself, then maybe his shadow will.

Back outside, the tank makes its way deeper into the narrow canyon, the bakers maintaining their readiness, fully aware that the Dark Forest can throw unexpected challenges their way at any moment. The high, sheer walls on both sides make them feel trapped, and the path ahead is becoming even narrower. The rocky walls of the canyon rise on either side, the evening sun shining and making the passage of time more evident.

“The sun is going down. That's not good.”

Nutmegan remarks and she has a point. Navigating this place in the dark would be a nightmare. And who knows what might come creeping out at night? Lynsie takes a moment to assess the situation, having the tank slow down temporarily. Using the axe as a climbing aid, she leaps up to scale the rock to a lower ledge and then makes her way to the edge of a cliff.

She surveys for anything useful. Anything at all. From this vantage point, she can see the river down below, it's like a snake slithering through to break up the rock with enchanted dark water. Glowing flowering moss lines the rock, creating a somewhat romantic look as the ribbons of sparkling star-laced magic drift in the flow. But something catches her attention. Something is floating in the gentle stream. What appears to be a large hunk of tree bark, moss glowing under, being ridden like a boat by two cats and a small mangy dog. The map with them.

This discovery gets her adrenaline hyped. Her sight follows the river's path to see if there's a bank or shore they could rush to, a possible point of advantage for an ambush. And there to her luck, she sees one. Quickly she bounds her way back to the tank, leaping off the rock, hooking the axe into the wall then kicking off to land on the canon.

“Give me the reins. Now!”

They hesitate for a moment before giving her the reins. With a harsh crack, the tank jerks as it resumes speeding through the narrow path that seems to wind its way through the canyon. This sudden motion gets Jack's attention and he pokes his head out from the inside of the tank, taking note of the intensity.

“What's going on?”

“Map spotted, Mr. Horner.”

Terror-misu informs, honestly it was a guess but there weren't many other things they'd guess of as to why Lynsie was practically foaming at the mouth, and that gets his attention.

“Oh, heck yeah!”

He emerges with the magic bag and climbs to the top of the tank, wanting the best view for this spectacle. With a maddening drive eating at her, Lynsie steers the unicorns through the twists and turns of the path. The tank treads grind against the rocky canyon floor, churning up dirt and whatever else that gets caught up under it as it speeds down the narrow passage. Her attention is dangerously split. She's focused on driving but her eyes dart away to the side whenever there's an opening in the rock. This has the spikes on the outer edge of the treads scrape against the walls, sparks flying each time. This doesn't go on for more than a few times till Jack has to step in, grabbing her arm to ground her.

“While I appreciate the effort, I'd appreciate it more if you'd pay attention to what you're doing.”

His tone dips into one of warning and he can feel the shiver that rattles her spine. Even now, after so much has transpired, she still fears the slightest inclination of disappointing him. Gimini watches from Jack's shoulder as she slacks the reins and the tank slows to a less reckless pace. Jack releases her arm and she shrinks inwardly on herself. This interaction has Gimini scratching his head. Perhaps there is more to this than he's witnessed. Such thoughts are broken when she pulls the reins to make the unicorns stop.

“What is it?”

Jack questions before he recognizes the look she has, that hyper-focused staring off into space look.

“Is she okay?”

Jack hushes the cricket. Her ears move faintly before her eyes widen. To Jack, this means she's zoned in on the sound.

“Fetch.”

The command has her launch off the tank like a shot fired at the start of a race.

“Follow her.”

Rhu-Barb grabs the reins and snaps them, getting the unicorns going again, tailing behind the surprisingly speedy woman. She rounds a sharp turn and disappears for a while. The only clue they have before they get closer is the faint sound of yapping which sharply turns into a startled yelp. As they round the corner, she comes back, jumping onboard but now she's got a tiny dog in her clutches or what seems like a dog, because some of them think it's a large rat. This small merle chihuahua is wearing a tattered dingy sock as a sweater. It has fur in two shades of brown, one darker and the other lighter, black and white. It has large turquoise eyes and in its mouth is a stick. Jack takes one look at this mongrel and is suddenly filled with the desire to chuck it into the bin. But this urge is held back because he's seen this furry thing before in the crystal ball with the criminal cats. So the map is nearby.

“Good girl.”

A small smile comes to her as the tank draws closer to where she nabbed the dog, that's when they can hear voices.

…

“Perro! Where did that crazy dog go?”

Puss ponders while looking for the Perrito. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to throw a stick around a dog. Because that pup zeroed in on it in instinct, bound off their boat, and disappeared behind a wall of foliage. This forced Puss and Kitty to dock on the river's shoreline to look for him.

“I think you like him.”

Kitty teases in a singsongy tone, noticing how Puss had gotten worried for the dog he supposedly doesn't like, and Puss gets defensive about it.

“No. No, I don't.”

Kitty sees through him like he's glass, so she keeps teasing.

“I think you're ready to name him.”

Puss, to change the subject and not seem like he's gotten attached, decides it's okay to be dismissive.

“No, I just need his easy path to get my wish.”

He gazes longingly at the map and she takes hold of it with him, reminding him he's not the one with a wish.

“You mean my wish.”

“You mean MY wish!”

A third voice enters the mix and it is here that things get tense.

Parting the curtain of leaves and flowers are unicorns that are followed by the massive tank that stops to unload eleven of the twelve bakers. Sitting smugly at the top on the railing is Jack, at his side is Lynsie who is holding aloft Perrito, and below them is Tommy holding up the magic above his head.

“Sorry.”

Perrito mutters, stick still held tight in his mouth.

“The Baker's Dozen.”

Puss recognizes this is a bad situation. He's only got a tiny dagger that Kitty gave him and no extra lives to fall back on. Kitty's got her weapon and who knows how many lives. The two of them are vastly outnumbered, outgunned, and have a friend who's being held hostage. This is very bad for them.

“Let him go.”

But despite the danger, Kitty stands her ground and points her blade as she demands the dog's release. This is rather amusing to Jack, he knows he's holding all the cards so he plays along for laughs.

“Oh, I don't know. I might keep him. Would you like a treat?”

He reaches into the magic bag and Kitty, as she is often to do, gives him sass which she knows he hates.

“Nice granny bag, "Little" Jack.”

The usage of his old moniker does a few things that Gimini takes notice of. The first thing it does is kill all pleasantness from Jack, his seriousness comes back hard.

“It's not a granny bag! It is a magic nanny bag.”

Jack pulls his hand out of the bag, only now he's holding the loaded crossbow and he points it at the dog.

“Now, make with the map, or we'll see what the unicorn horn really does.”

As bad as this is, it only gets worse, Lynsie moves the dog closer for shooting ease. This is when Gimini notices the second part of the effects of calling Jack "little", all remorse is gone to the point it crosses the forbidden sin. Perrito whimpers and drops the stick, making a sad worried puppy face.

“Y-Y-You're not gonna shoot a puppy, are you, Jack?”

Gimini chimes in, the voice of reason. Surely no one, not even the most wicked of souls, would do this.

“Yeah, in the face. Why?”

But that's where Gimini is wrong. So very wrong. Jack moves the crossbow even closer the the dog, pressing the wood to the pup's forehead to emphasize that this is no bluff. He will, as a matter of fact, shoot this dog point blank in the face and not even so much as bat an eye about it like it's nothing.

This is without a doubt a messed up situation. A very tense and stressful one. One that requires careful handling and a delicate grace to avoid all negative consequences. Good thing that no one is paying attention to anything else because sudden yelling goes unnoticed till, out of absolutely nowhere, Rhu-Barb slams into the side of the tank with enough force to jostle it.

“What the...?!”

Eyes follow the flung trajectory of Rhu-Barb's path and see the ones responsible. It would seem that due to the advancements Jack's team had made, burning the posies and blasting through the brambles, it had allowed for Goldilocks and the bears to catch up to everyone else. They do still look as though they've gone through a bit of a thrashing on their way to this point but surely it wasn't as bad as it could've been. And somehow, without anyone noticing, they had grabbed two of the Baker's Dozen, now just holding Sir Thomas as a hostage/canon fodder.

“Give us the map, or else the baker man gets it.”

Goldi demands.

“Yeah!”

Baby Bear adds while clutching a nervous Sir Thomas.

“Hold up...”

Lynsie looks the scene over.

“How the heck did you grab them?”

Goldi rolls her eyes.

“Does that really matter?”

“Yes! You're like a good sixty feet away and up on a ledge. Explain how you took our men when they were standing right here a second ago without anyone seeing that. What are you? Schrödinger's bear?!”

Unfortunately for Lynsie or any other who also wanted to understand this illogical inconsistency, Jack changes the subject to make things clear to Goldi in the only way he knows how when talking to someone he considers beneath him...blunt mockery.

“I don't even have the map, Little Bo-Creep.”

Not the response she wanted and hating how, once again, she's being dismissed as nothing, Goldi gives Baby Bear the signal and he sends Sir Thomas hurtling into the tank. The impact of Sir Thomas is so hard that it not only shakes those on it but Jack is shaken so much that he ends up wobbling the crossbow away from the dog and hits Lynsie squarely between her eyes with the blunt front end or the weapon, sending her over the side and the dog is released from her grip. He also ends up kicking Tommy in the back of the head and the man is sent over the unicorns, head over heel, while the bag remains on the tank.

“Stop throwing my men at me!”

Jack shouts in annoyance as the Perrito makes a break for it, climbing down off the tank to get back to Puss and Kitty. Except, the poor doggo has to now get by the bakers who are quick to try to grab him to reclaim hostage rights, but the tiny pup is a wily one, dodging through legs and avoiding grasping hands like a champ. Wondering why this dog is important, Baby Bear gets a good look at the cats and makes the connection.

“Puss in Boots has the map!”

“Let's get him!”

Taking charge, Papa leads his family down the slope and rushes for the cats. Seeing this, the bakers forget about the dog and gun it for the cats as well. Now facing even worse odds than before, Puss gulps. Kitty, being there for her former partner and lover, is ready to make him feel better.

“I've got a plan.”

Puss's eyes widen with hope.

“First one to the dog gets the wish!”

She gives Puss a playful shove and runs into the fray, blade in paw. The hope in Puss's eyes shatters.

“What? Oh, come on!”

Tucking the map under his belt, he reluctantly grips the tiny dagger at his side and follows after her. Aiming to get the dog, get her, and get the heck out of this mess before something else threatens his last life. The maddening chaos is quick the unfold once everyone is clashing. Similarly to the attack at the pie factory, Kitty's prowess is a sight to behold, she avoids Terror-misu's meat cleavers and grabs the woman by the mouth, spinning her with her own momentum and then flinging her back like the woman was weightless. Unfortunately for Puss, she's flung his way and nearly cuts his life abruptly, how lucky he is to have cat reflexes.

The once calm grounds are a battlefield. Small teams of about three to four bakers each deal with the bears, though some break away when cats get close. The dog, being so small and not a threat, is able to take cover behind some of the larger stone pillars. Slowly regaining consciousness on the ground, Lynsie stirs to a sharp face pain and seeing all hell has broken out. She looks up to see Jack aiming with the crossbow, pointing at a target in the chaotic crowd. Forgoing the pain and danger, she joins the battle without the axe, one target locked in her mind. Papa Bear is swarmed by Nutmegan, Crustina, Cinnaman, and Sir Thomas due to being a huge threat. Mama Bear is also taken seriously with Stevia, Ben Yay, and Butter Scott. Baby Bear tag teams with Goldi against Terror-Misu, Pete, Betsy, and Rhu-Barb who try to keep the pair in one place. Kitty bounds around till she makes it over to some rocks, bending down to comfort the frightened Perrito.

“You okay, dog?”

It nods its head before gasping as Kitty is kicked harshly in her side and sent flying into a boulder.

“We have unfinished business, Miss Softpaws.”

Lynsie continues her assault on Kitty, pummeling the pussycat till Goldi smacks the woman with her staff.

“Try to ignore me now, ya daft minger.”

Goldi gets what she wants, in this violent clash where rage is being unleashed, and it's more than she bargains for. Lynsie doesn't waste words on the girl, seeing this girl as beneath her yet still a pest that needs dealing with all the same. Instead, she figures to kill two birds with one stone and uses Kitty as a living shield of sorts while going after Goldi. So every time Goldi uses her staff or hurls a kick, Lynsie uses Kitty to take the hit.

“Ow! Will you knock it off and hit her?!”

Kitty rightfully complains as Goldi's offensive maneuvers do nothing but hit her.

“What do you think I'm trying to do?”

Goldi makes a jab at Lynsie but the woman snatches her staff with her free hand and pulls the younger girl close enough for a devastating head bash, resulting in Goldi going down as Lynsie snarls sharply, her nose breaking from the earlier smack with the crossbow. Kitty uses this moment to reach around and grab hold of her wrist, gaining the leverage to swing upward enough to kick her already busted nose. The loud crunch is almost drowned out by her roar, the shock to her system makes her nerves flicker and her grip wanes enough for Kitty to yank herself free.

As Lynsie is blinded by pain and murderous rage, she can't see that there's a response to her roar. Mama Bear, having heard the sound and seeing her darling daughter on the ground, charges in with the parental might of a hurricane. She tackles Lynsie into some standing rocks and structure gives way under the impact. Mama Bear can get away as the rocks come down but Lynsie isn't so lucky, in her current state, she gets buried under the heavy stone debris, and the only indicator of her being is that of her gloved hand protruding from under the rubble...motionless.

Meanwhile, Puss struggles to just doge his way around attacks. Cinnaman breaks away from his group to go after the cat, he comes in swinging at him with a giant rolling pin studded with nails, making the tabby leap up with a yowl, this sets up Sir Thomas to come in with his fencing sword and spiked oven mitt gauntlet to land an easy blow. But that's when Baby Bear comes in to do the same thing and only Sir Thomas takes the hit, sending him skyward. With a fairly decent opening made, Jack sees his chance to shoot Puss and looks through the aiming sight on the weapon.

“Steady.”

Jack fires, launching a baby unicorn horn right for Puss...However...It is at this same time that Pete comes barreling in with his giant meat tenderizer war hammer and attempts to smash Puss to a pulp. Puss just barely slides under Pete to avoid the crushing blow and narrowly takes the horn to the face yet his reflexes once again save him, but poor Peter ends up with being shot instead. The horn finds itself embedded in his rump. A brief moment strikes Pete as he seems completely fine...until he isn't.

*party whistles blares and noisemaker honks*

Pete explodes. No blood or guts, thank goodness. But instead, he explodes in a surprisingly powerful puff of colorful smoke, streamers, glitter, and confetti. Leaving only his clothing as proof he once was. Being caught in the unexpected blast, Puss spits a mouthful of confetti and is frankly disturbed by this.

“What?!”

One who took great glee in this morbid discovery was Jack, who laughs joyfully while cocking another horn to be ready for more magical death.

“So that's what they do. Cool.”

Gimini, understandably, doesn't share in this enthusiasm.

“No! Not cool!”

Jack pays no heed to Gimini's concern and fires again. And, again, a poor baker gets in the way of his shoot at Puss. This time it's Betsy who had run up with her dagger-like carving fork to nab the traumatized tabby but gets a horn in her right shoulder blade.

“Ah, you shot me!”

*party whistles blares and noisemaker honks*

Like Pete, Betsy combusts into a colorful and haunting celebration display, with nothing left of her but clothing. All the smoke and glitter start getting to Puss, triggering him into a sneezing fit. Jack so far is two for two on blocked shots and his annoyance is starting to increase.

“Ah, the sight's off.”

He cocks another horn for the ready and adjusts his aim as he lines for this third shot. Puss is a perfect target now. His sneezing fit keeps him still long enough for him to be grabbed by Tommy who seems to have a snap ball strainer spoon fashioned to be a morning star mace.

“I got him, Mr. Horner!”

Too bad for Tommy that Jack had already fired the horn and it stabbed right into his back.

“My bad!”

Jack calls out.

“Oh, no...”

Puss braces for the impact but being right next to an explosion, even ones that are party bombs, doesn't mean there aren't side effects.

*party whistles blares and noisemaker honks*

Puss is hurtled through the air, his ears ringing from the blast, hitting the ground back near the river bank and tumbles over himself for a bit before coming to a stop. The map had dislodged from his belt in the blast and landed in the open for anyone to take. As his senses come back to him, Puss goes to recollect the map but something stops him. Something only he hears. A sound that makes his fur stand on end and his heart speeds up in fright.

A whistle.

Puss turns to see the WOLF, standing on the river's far bank. The Wolf locks eyes with Puss and draws his sickles. Panic strikes. Fear engulfs Puss. And, following a need to live, Puss turns tail. Fleeing the scene entirely. This gets the notice of the dog who runs after Puss in concern.

“Puss, wait!”

Kitty manages to get to the map but sees the dog running away.

“Perro?”

Kitty pauses for a second too long and gets absolutely walloped by Goldi who snags the map from her.

“Thanks for the map, Softpaws.”

Goldi opens the map, getting a look at what could be on it, only for the magic roll of shiny black paper with its edges bordered in gold to tap into her and alter the path to the Star. As the map does, it makes a personalized path for the one that holds it. So now that Goldi holds it, Perrito's path dissipates to become her own, and this change has real effects on the landscape. The environment morphs to match the map, the landscape begins to warp and shift. The rock of the canyon rumbles and cracks as it starts to split the groups up. Goldi and the bears climb up to the elevating land, literally having the high ground.

“No, no, no!”

Jack, having climbed down to get the bag and reloaded the crossbow, angrily begins shooting with the hopes of at least hitting one of them in spite.

“No!”

Kitty, being isolated on a pillar of stone, can't believe what's happening. As if to kick the others while they're down, Baby Bear gloats over them while Jack is still shooting at them.

“Oi! You've just been crimed by The Three Bears Crime Family.”

The rest of the family even gets in on it.

“Yeah!”

“So long, you plonkers!”

They take off into a pine forest that sprung up behind them. Kitty, understandably, is pissed!

“!Los voy hacer a todos alfombras de baño! Ugh! Puss, where are you?!” (I'm going to make them all into bath mats!)

As Kitty storms off, leaping down to follow where she saw the dog run off, the bakers regroup and recover. Jack scowls, leering at how the map has once more slipped out of grasp. And what does he have to show for the effort of this confrontation? Not a damn thing! Hell, he lost three perfectly useful goons that could've died doing something other than getting in the way of his damn shots! Every single time! Curse them! Ruining his clean aim and making him look like he couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. They deserved it. Oh well. At least nothing important was broken or lost. Wait...Where is…?

“Mr. Horner!”

Nutmegan draws their attention to the hand under the mounds of rocks.

“Don't just stand there. Get her out!”

This goes without saying. They scramble to remove the rock, some using their weapons, though this would've likely gone a bit faster if the three of the physically strongest bakers weren't currently clusters of party favors slowly spreading out on the ground into one big colorful mess that will get lost in the wind like cremated ashes. As more of Lynsie is uncovered from the rocks, the more unnerving it looks. Not saying she's left as a battered heap of mangled bits, no. In fact, her body seems fine. Give or take the way she was bent and the small dribble of blood coming from her nose. No, the unsettling part is how her eyes were wide open and fully dilated in a dead stare.

“Don't touch her!”

Jack climbs down and approaches.

“Everyone, back on the tank and turn it around. We're going after that snot-nosed little shit and her family of cheap throw rugs!”

The bakers don't question him but do keep watching as he kneels over her body. Gimini eyes the scene as Jack picks her up by the back of her uniform, holding her up at eye level while his other hand comes up to feel around her neck and tilts her to look at him.

“Is she...?”

Gimini begins to inquire.

“She's not dead if that's what you're wondering.”

Gimini sighs with relief.

“Thank goodness.”

“You say that like she's allowed to die.”

Gimini looks at Jack funny as he heads back to the tank with her. The bakers, now fully back on the tank, watch the scene unfold with a mix of emotions. This is the kind of thing they both expected and didn't expect. Jack doesn't care about the lives of his subordinates, not casting a glance or remark about the four that have lost their lives so far in this adventure. Yet when it comes to her, it's different, it's almost personal when it comes to his little shadow. Jack enters the tank, depositing Lynsie on one of the plush seats, leaning out the door to grab the bag and instruct the bakers to get the tank moving again. The tank begins to move, turning around and going onward to find a way to cross into the new land Goldi had made, hoping there's still some land connecting to it and leaving the chaos behind.

Inside the tank, Jack sits Lynsie up and examines her more closely. He checks her over for injuries and looks at her face, his expression unreadable. Gimini hovers nearby, watching the scene unfold.

“She's not looking so well.”

Jack remains stoic, not giving away much.

“She's fine.”

Gimini persists.

“Now, Jack, you shouldn't dismiss her well-being. This doesn't look natural. She needs aid.”

Jack just rolls his eyes and focuses on her, holding her head in his palms.

“Look at you. Took a bit of a beating, didn't you? Damn woman, you're always such a pain in the ass.”

He puts his thumbs on the sides of her nose.

“Hey, bug, you're not squeamish are you?”

“Well...Not that I know of.”

“Great!”

Without hesitation, he uses his thumbs to push the cartilage and bone back into place. The sound is stomach churning and Gimini cringes hard.

“There. All better. Minus the nasty bruise that's gonna form later. Oh well.”

“So...So she's okay?”

Gimini asks trying to keep from gagging.

“What? Oh, yeah, like I said before she's fine. This is just what happens sometimes. It's like a defense mechanism or whatever. She freezes up or goes limp and her mind detaches. It all depends on the moment really.”

He meets her far-off gaze with his own.

————————————————–

A loud crack of thunder rumbles through the sky as a downpour lets loose. The evening adds a gloom to the storm but it's not the only reason for one soul. Standing alone in the now vacant field is little Lynsie, tears blending in with the falling rain. Most of the traveling wagons have left to find business elsewhere, as is the way of things, and more will come to take their temporary place. She knows this. Only this time it was different.

She got attached.

The Horners were like most vendors that have stopped by her small town, setting up shop for a bit to sell goods and make a name for themselves so they can start up a proper business. They were never going to stick around. But unlike most, they didn't see her like some street rat. Even if Jack could be abrasive and condescending, he still treated her like she was a peer. His parents showed her care and genuine decency, things she lacks from her own family. It's no wonder she would develop attachment.

And it stands to reason why their wagon being gone hurts her so much.

She stands there, somberly. Silently crying long into the wee hours till the sun's light was no more. Eventually and reluctantly, she leaves the field, making the dreadful trek back home. She walks away from the town. Away from the dim lantern light and into the neighboring thicket at the edge of the town's border. There stands one giant shoe that has been lazily reconstructed into a makeshift house. Based on how it looks, none would think a family of nearly twenty was living inside. A dim candle glows in the window and it doesn't mean anything good. She and her siblings aren't allowed to leave the house, so they tend to sneak out to scrape by before coming back ahead of their mother. But she was out too late. Her mother knows. This isn't going to end well. So with a heavy and frightened heart, she knocks on the door. The door opens slowly with an ominous creak before a much older hand grabs the disheveled child and yanks her inside as the door slams shut.

“You wretched brat!”

The Old Woman shouts in the face of this tiny soaked-to-the-bone child.

“What were you doing outside?!”

She doesn't allow her to answer, being thrown against a wall kind of has the effect of knocking the wind out of her lungs and stunting thought.

“Spoiled little urchin! Is this the thanks I get for giving birth to you? For having a roof for you to sleep under? For everything I went through?!”

Lynsie cowers against the wall, her wet clothes clinging to her frail frame. The room smells of dampness and decay, a stark contrast to the fresh petrichor lingering on her from the rain outside. The dim light casts eerie shadows on the walls. Her mother's anger reverberates through the cramped space like thunder.

The Old Woman towers over Lynsie, her face contorted with rage. Her eyes are wells of resentment and disappointment. Lynsie has heard these accusations before, a litany of grievances that her mother never hesitates to remind her of. But tonight, the storm outside mirrors the tempest within their makeshift home. She strikes her daughter's cheek with stinging force, her nails cutting enough to draw blood. Tears mix with raindrops on the young girl's face. Her mother's wrath is a remorseless storm.

“You think you can defy me? You're nothing. A burden. You'll learn your place!”

Lynsie's siblings huddle around corners to watch, their eyes mixed with fear and relief. Relief that their mother will be too focused on her favorite punching bag to go after them for anything they might have done. The older ones keep the younger ones back but don't shield them from the sight. They must learn and learn quickly how to survive in this hell. The Old Woman turns her attention to them, her anger undiminished.

“You all think you can undermine me, sneak away, and think I won't notice? I am your mother! I know every naughty thing you do!”

She advances on Lynsie again, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her up. The room feels like a prison, the air thick with tension and despair. The storm outside rages on, a symphony of chaos that mirrors the turmoil within the makeshift house.

“Bad children must know their place.”

Lynsie doesn't dare speak but she winces as her mother's grip tightens, dragging her across the room. The Old Woman shoves her into a small room, one of the few that have doors attached but she leaves it open. She wants the others to see this.

“You're such a disappointment.”

The Old Woman snarls; a twisted sense of satisfaction in her eyes. She reaches for a worn leather strap hanging on a rusty nail. It's a tool of punishment, a cruel reminder of the power the Old Woman holds over her children. Lynsie's breath catches, knowing all too well what is to come.

“I'm going to remind you who is in charge here.”

The room seems to close in around Lynsie as her mother cracks the strap like a whip, she flinches instinctively. Like a frightened animal, her face conveys her distress, a silent plea for mercy that she knows will not be granted.

The first lash cuts through the air, Lynsie covering her face as the strike hits her back with a searing pain. She bites her lip to stifle a cry, refusing to give her mother the satisfaction of hearing her anguish. The strap strikes again and again, each blow fueled by the Old Woman's pent-up anger and resentment.

Lynsie's mind retreats to a place of distant numbness, her body absorbing the punishment like a vessel battered by the storm outside. The sounds of the whipping merge with the thunder outside, creating a dissonant symphony of suffering. Blow after blow, the leather meets flesh, each strike fueled by a toxic mixture of anger and frustration. The other kids can only watch in resignation. They know this routine all too well—the anger, the violence, the blood, and the ruin before it happens all over again.

As the Old Woman exhausts her fury, her breath heavy with exertion as she drops the strap with a disdainful toss. Lynsie lies lifelessly on the floor, aching and broken, her wet clothes sticking to her wounded skin. Blood seeping out the gashes in her back. The room is filled with a heavy silence broken only by the rain's persistent drumming on the makeshift roof.

The Old Woman stands over Lynsie, her chest heaving.

“Maybe one day you'll learn to behave and stop being such a bad girl.”

She practically spits out, before turning to her other children.

“And as for the rest of you...If you don't want to end up like her, then you best remember this. This is what happens when you defy your mother.”

With that, she leaves Lynsie in the room and locks her in. The sound of rain soon is all she hears. The house goes silent now that their mother has asserted her command. A small voice in Lynsie's mind whispers a desperate plea for escape. The memory of the Horners lingers in her heart like a flickering candle in the wind.

“If I were you, I wouldn't take any of it. You're not a dog. A dog doesn't get a choice. Stop rolling over and letting it happen. Do something about it! It's your life. Your choice.”

Jack's words strike a cord much harder than her mother can hit. The thought of a different life, one where she is valued and cared for, where she is treated with kindness and respect, it fuels a fiery spark of defiance within her.

She makes her choice.

————————————————–

“Snap out of it, Lynsie. Don't ignore me.”

Hearing Jack's voice causes her empty dilated eyes to suddenly constrict in focus and she blinks, making Gimini jump in surprise. He lets her face go and sits back, adopting his usual nonchalant demeanor as she pops her neck, along with other joints. She rubs her face, wiping away the blood, only to wince and snarl at the pain. Jack just chuckles at her as she gets her barrings back, taking note of how she's no longer outside.

“What happened while I was out?”

“We're down three more men and the map was taken by those woodland bumpkins. So now the terrain is different.”

She groans.

“This is so bloody tedious.”

[To be continued in the second half.]

[sociologyonthemove]

A morning commute: vulnerability in the city by Zoë Paske

The walk begins on Malefant Street at 8:45am. Subdued by fatigue, I step out and begin negotiating the unevenness of Cathays’ patchwork pavement. Having lived in this area for almost two years I feel relatively at ease to somnambulate this first stretch. Flanked by the crumbling Edwardian facades adorned with ‘To Rent’, slow climbing weeds tear at their foundations and threaten to erupt through the concrete. Seagulls and crows have ripped into the heaving carcasses of rubbish bags, leaving entrails of rotten food and plastic wrappers scattered across road and walkway. I can hear the light tapping of their dance on the gutters above, anxious to return to their putrid hoard. I have often been overwhelmed by the scent of a faltering gas leak, something my mother was particularly distressed by, tightening its grip until I move on. 

Neither a lick of paint nor a tarmac plaster can conceal the student addresses and their landlord’s neglect. Puwar (2019) laments the encroachment of student mess into (her) Coventry, placing heavy blame on the ‘enterprising’ university and a lax Council. With three universities squeezed into one city, Cardiff has villainised students as enemies of the general public – yet I have witnessed many rubbish collectors circle the visible campus, but not advance one street further. Despite the palpable tension, here is generated a sense of familiarity - though rugged and bruised, this place is home. There is rarely any cause for me to stir out of my slumber here, and yet I am brought to attention by a distant car horn and the screech of wheels. The city is forever eager to remind me of its uncertainty, lest I forget I am not alone (Aitchinson, 2005). 

After a while, I reach the main crossing at the top of Crwys Road. It is 8:50am. This is the start of the commercial hub, a vibrant thoroughfare of converted terrace houses which drives through the heart of Cathays - this morning, however, they lie dormant awaiting the revival of the multicultural community. Overzealous estate agents display pamphlets inscribed with Mandarin, hungry for the next batch of second years to bundle into their dilapidated properties six at a time - Asian and European grocers haul their produce onto the street infusing you with regret, Tesco bag in hand - most restaurants are family-run, save the Pizza Hut and Domino’s takeaway not 10m apart. Charity shops and discount stores fill the gaps between, interrupted by the occasional Turkish cafe or barber. 

At night, though reasonably well-lit by the neon signs and warmth of activity, it is not a comfortable commute. The residential clutter is often replicated here, but the poor environmental quality, the lack of maintenance and distrust of the ‘informal surveillance’ makes this an area you do not wish to dwell in (Loukaitou-Sideris and Eck, 2007). However, today the morning sun swims in the shallow puddles of rainwater that sit on the rough tarmac, and the lone biker casually bounces and swings across the empty traffic lanes, the sight of his amusement warms through to my skin, making it hard to feel afraid. After crossing, I begin down Cathays Terrace where I pass the climbing red-brick turrets of the local school which has begun to emerge from the detention of metal scaffolding. As I walk by it strikes me how I instinctively scan the foreground, seeking out the lecherous outlier whose own eyes all too often linger on the hems of skirts and collarbones revealed in summertime. This behaviour of mine is automated, programmed by the informal curriculum enforced upon me inside and outside of those educational walls (Fileborn & Hardley, 2023). It is a habit I will continue whenever I am out, wherever I go.

I descend the slight hill and walk alongside the Council’s new bike lane which silently reprimands me for ignoring it, despite statistics in my favour. I can hear a lorry cautiously reversing and smell its exhaust fumes mixed with a faint whiff of Lynx Africa, no doubt left by early-morning sportsmen or late-night party goers. The greenery atop bus-stops and adorning the embankments has regenerated this area, making it more open and welcoming than the preceding blank cement encased in guardrails. The university buildings loom on the horizon, the main pilgrimage being to the student union by intoxicated undergraduates, evidenced by the abandoned curry and chips and pint glasses. The walk home from these events can be frightening, especially in the eerie silence and darkness of the backstreets. During the day, however, the infrastructure lends itself to a sense of security. The houses encasing the road herald back to the miners’ dwellings, extended two-up-two-downs with bright white paint refreshing the tired stone. This morning, I use the reflections in ground-floor and car windows to discreetly calculate the distance and threat of fellow pedestrians and am comforted by the idea that there are extra watchers within. Thankfully, there is only a small number of alleyways and blind corners which bolsters my faith in my self-surveillance (Valentine, 1990:294). 

When reaching the end, I bear right over the railway tracks and enter Corbett Road. It is 8:59am. At the crossroads, I look left and observe the elliptical structure of the student union’s new facade, the Centre of Student Life; and then right up the drive towards the distant first-year accommodations at Talybont. There are two sets of pedestrian crossings here so there is never a quiet moment, the green man ringing in my ears when the traffic has finally subsided, his incessant echo permeating the morning hush. Once the first is crossed, I begin skirting Cathays Park, advancing past the brutalist infrastructure of the Welsh Government buildings and Cardiff University’s campus. Insecurity is once again injected into my psyche as this place does not seem designed to make me feel safe. The Alexandra Gardens at the centre of the compound is boxed in by thick hedges with tall evergreens punctuating your line of sight, and the exits are obscured by the density of vegetation. The surrounding buildings are several stories tall but most inwardly facing windows go unoccupied, merely lining the corridors where students and staff rush to their appointments and won’t cast a glance down (Valentine, 1990). To recline in one of the many benches lining the margin of the plot is a luxury I have yet to dare to afford.

It is 9:06. I pass the intricate Gothic brickwork of Aberdare Hall, Cardiff University’s closest accommodation reserved for female students, and a private estate sequestered off the main road – tucking the girls away from trouble. Here, I shall finally encounter a notable amount of people, mainly joggers who, like me, are making a beeline for the refreshing flora and fauna of Bute Park. The runners in front of me are not behaving like the ‘highly accomplished sensualists’ (Lorimer, 2012:83) they should be, accidentally falling into the road as they jostle for position. Like cycling, running is a highly gendered practice as women are more likely to experience harassment, perhaps explaining why no female jogger is running alone this morning (Cook and Larsen, 2022). I follow their lead into the chilly shadow of the Arts College and over a wooden footbridge above a slow-moving stream revealing the discarded camp chairs and miniature trolley partially submerged by silt. Everything is slow here, the fast pace of the city, though dampened by the early morning, is left behind the wall of oak trees.  

I thoroughly enjoy walking here despite the horror stories of girls getting pulled into the overgrown brush or followed into the woods - the tension subsides substantially in spring and summer. On my previous walks here, I have been extremely cautious about lone walkers, watching them out of my periphery and avoiding dense treelines. When I am one of the few people occupying the park, I become more aware of watchful eyes and relate to the assertion that a woman constitutes a ‘curiosity’, considered fabric to the flânerie observed by male flaneurs (Bowlby, 1992:209), not paid the same ‘civil inattention’ (Goffman 1963/1966;83-84). The alternative would be to use the pedestrian subways, criss-crossing my way under the main road – I have used this route in winter when the park shuts early, knowing the risks it poses in darkness. The desolate winter mornings and the misery of Welsh rain is a lethal combination, however now that the sun has resurfaced, the dog-walkers, running clubs and young families keep me company. 

To exit the park, I cross the Millennium Bridge to the National Express coach station, the thundering wheels of suitcases startling a bulldog who is bracing against his lead, not wanting to go home. After trampling over molehills and dodging struggling daffodils, I leave and turn right, beginning up the A4161. It is 9:16am. Almost immediately I pass two older men outside a nursery. One stands ranting to his companion who rests his walking crutch on the low wall, both holding beer bottles. I hear a snippet of their conversation: “People just see the beer and they make their own assumptions about it, and fair enough. But …”. After hearing this, I feel guilty for my initial alarm and subtly lower my phone camera, having been previously taking pictures, to not cause them any further distress. There is another pelican crossing a few metres down and I am wary of lingering in their company much longer, so I am relieved when the green man beckons me across. The wind picks up and whips my forehead, caused by racing cars and exasperated off-duty tour buses, sighing loudly whenever they meet yet another set of red lights. The area is still relatively quiet, but there are more people here – I presume they have jobs like me to get to, or, like the two men, have nowhere else to go. There is little evidence of students here. This road is designed predominantly for vehicles and thus I find myself pinned against the wall until I reach Cowbridge Road East.

I begin my final stretch into the heart of Canton. I first pass a Chinese supermarket with a singular shopping trolley waiting by the door. It is suspiciously wrapped in black masking tape, save the tell-tale blue handles which poke out and betray its previous life. I am continuing past the Bingo Hall when a man who has been skulking outside the car park alleyway steps out into my path and mutters a request for directions. Before getting too close, I glance behind and see another man walking towards us with purpose. I remember being told by police after filing a theft report at work that this area had little effective CCTV coverage. Feeling tag teamed, I quickly sidestep him indicating I have no time to stop and hurry on towards my place of work. After building enough distance/courage, I turn and see the other man pull him back down the alley. The cardboard cut-out of a policeman ironically does not console me.

Up until now, I had been perfecting the ‘safety work’ required of a woman walking alone: mapping the safest route, scanning ahead and crossing when encountering potentially unsavoury characters, wearing earphones and closely drawn clothes among other ‘involvement shields’ (Goffman, 1963/1966), avoiding eye-contact and being polite with strangers (Vera-Gray and Kelly, 2020:4). What more could I do? I had no idea what the ‘right amount of panic’ was, but I could not take the risk (Vera-Gray, 2018). I had a nagging feeling that my pre-emptive refusal had caused offence and therefore by doing what I had been taught, I had invited scorn all the same. I ran the next few steps, struggled with my drawn key, and dived into my shop. Finally, safe again. 

Methodological Note 

The classical, romantic notion of the flaneur is used frequently by sociologists to explore social action by leisurely walking, potentially aimlessly, and absorbing society in a relaxed manner. There is a debate about the possibility of a flaneuse, the flaneur historically being portrayed as a bourgeois, white, cisgender, middle-aged man (Bowlby, 1991). I take the opinion that the flaneuse is a myth in practice due to the social constraints on her movement, though she is admittedly used by some as rebellion to social and cultural norms. Some examples include Slut Walks or Reclaim-the-Night marches – a demonstration of ‘walking as a practice of power and resistance’ (de Certeau, 1984) – or the simple act of wearing provocative clothing or being “brash” with unknown men. My walk was not revolutionary, instead demonstrating the safety within the confines of acceptable (female) social action. However, what is revealed is that the perception of security in gendered conformism is not founded in reality. Thus, as the female is already embedded into the flânerie as object (Bowlby, 1991:209), the methodology was regimented in time and route, but the subconscious roamed free through sensory walking, learning on the move.

I decided to record my sensory interaction with my surroundings and the social actors within them by way of notetaking, pictures, and voice notes thus transcribing holistically, combining senses, thoughts, and feelings. Sensory walks reveal the influences of social undertones on private experiences, and as such informing on social structures. Relph (1976:122) advises us that ‘landscapes are … always imbued with meanings that come from how and why we know them.’ During my walk, my personal meaning of the city solidified under the repeated interactions wherein the power imbalance was prominent, while additionally having other times and places brought alive and synthesised as personal memories become intertwined with social understanding, arousing and assigning meaning and importance to particular places.   While this may have aroused some bias because of my perspective and thus the inferences drawn are coloured by my own worldviews, what the methodology communicated was the inevitable victimisation of women whether direct or indirect, helpfully explicated by Vera-Gray’s (2018) ‘the right amount of panic’. What Bates and Rhys-Taylor (2017:3) called ‘the mutually sustaining relationship’ here was the systematic reproduction of patriarchy on an interactional level. 

City living is relatively foreign to me, coming from a market town in the London commuter belt. The sense of fear I generated at particular junctures could have easily been explained away with reference to unfamiliar environments and their inhabitants. But there is a common understanding amongst women of what we can expect and therefore attempt to mediate during our expeditions into the social sphere – we had to learn on the move. The impact of intersectionality is neglected by my writing (Thomas et al, 2022), however the performance of gender disparity in the city was made clear by sensory walking as method, and thus contributes to the deciphering of the fraught relationship between women and the city; and additionally documents female expertise in navigating social space, giving basis for further expansion. 

References

Aitchinson, C. (2005) ‘Feminist and Gender Perspectives in Tourism Studies: The Social-Cultural Nexus of Critical and Cultural Theorists’, Tourist Studies, 5(3) 207-224.

Bates, C. and Rhys-Taylor, A. (eds) Walking Through Social Research. London: Routledge (Finding Our Feet).

Bowlby, R. (1991) Walking, women, and writing: Virginia Woolf as flâneuse. Tropismes (5) 207-232.

Cook, S. and Larsen, J. (2022) ‘Geographies of running cultures and practices’, Geography Compass, 16(10).

De Certeau, M. (1984) The Practice of Everyday Life. Berkeley, 91-110.

Fileborn, B. and Hardley, J. (2023) ‘”I’d be in my school uniform”: the informal curriculum of street harassment’ Gender and Education, 35(4) 330-347.

Goffman, E. (1963/1966) Behaviour in Public Places: Notes on the Organisation of Gatherings. New York: Free Press.

Loukaitou-Sideris, A. and Eck, J. (2007) ‘Crime Prevention and Active Living’, American Journal of Health Promotion, 21(4) 380-389.

Lorimer, H. (2012) ‘Surfaces and slopes’, Performance Research, 17(2) 83-86.

Puwar, N. (2019) ‘Walking through Litter’, Life Writing Projects.

Relph, E. (1976) Place and Placelessness. London: Pion.

Thomas, C. et al, (2022) An Intersectionality Walk, with Systemic Change. SAGE ACT Regional Network.

Valentine, G. (1990) ‘Women’s Fear and the Design of Public Space’, Built Environment, 16(4) 288-303.

Vera-Gray, F. (2018) The Right Amount of Panic: How Women Trade Freedom for Safety. Bristol: Policy Press.

Vera-Gray, F. and Kelly, L. (2020) ‘Contested gendered space: public sexual harassment and women’s safety work’, International Journal of Comparative and Applied Criminal Justice, 44(4) 265-275.

[waterfiltergurus]

Brita Water Tastes Weird: 5 Possible Causes and Solutions

Noticed that your water tastes weird after filtering it with a Brita filter? In this guide, I've shared some of the most common reasons why your Brita water might taste strange, based on my own experience using Brita filters and my general knowledge of water treatment equipment. 📌 Key Takeaways: - You might notice a bad taste in your Brita water filter if the filter is old and needs replacing, it needs priming or repriming, you can taste plastic from the pitcher, or the filter can't remove the contaminants that affect your drinking water taste. - It's possible that your Brita water tastes strange because you usually drink water straight from the tap and you're not used to the taste of chlorine-free water. - You can usually resolve the issue by repriming or replacing the filter, upgrading to a better filter or glass pitcher, or simply allowing your tastebuds to adapt to the filtered water taste. 🤔 Why Does My Brita Water Taste Bad? 5 Common Reasons and How to Resolve There are five main reasons why water from your Brita filter might taste bad: 1) The Filter Needs Priming (Or Re-Priming) First, if you've just started using your Brita filter and have noticed a poor water taste, the issue could be that the filter needs priming. The filter cartridges in Brita water pitchers need to be primed to moisten the filter contents. Failing to prime the filter may mean that it still contains loose activated carbon dust and isn't fully soaked, reducing its ability to remove contaminants. A combination of the carbon dust in your water and the filter's inability to properly remove chlorine and other taste-causing contaminants could be the cause of a bad taste in your filtered water. ✅ How to Resolve: To prime your Brita water filter, simply filter and discard three batches of pitcher water. This will soak the filter with water and remove any loose carbon dust that might have been disturbed during storage and transportation. You might also need to re-prime or re-soak your Brita filter after a period of non-use. For instance, if you allowed your Brita water filter to dry out while you were away from home, I recommend re-priming it by following the same filter-and-discard process outlined above to moisten the filter media and prepare it for proper filtering. 2) You're Not Used to Filtered Water Another possible reason for bad-tasting filter water from a Brita filter is simply that you're not used to the altered taste of filtered water. Many of us have grown up drinking chlorinated tap water and our tastebuds are familiar with its slight chemical aftertaste. When you drink filtered water for the first time - even if it's only mildly filtered by a basic filter like Brita's offering - you might need to get used to the distinct lack of chlorine. ✅ How to Resolve: The best way to resolve this issue is simply to keep drinking your filtered water until your tastebuds adapt to the chlorine-free taste. You should soon prefer the taste of filtered water - I know many people who use water filters and are now unable to a chlorinated municipal water supply at all because the chlorine taste is so noticeable to them. 3) You Can Taste Contaminants That the Filter Can't Remove On the other end, the unpleasant taste in your Brita filtered water might actually come from certain contaminants that Brita can't remove. A Brita water filter can only remove a handful of contaminants, including chlorine, some heavy metals, and a few chemicals. If your water has a high concentration of dissolved solids, you might be tasting contaminants that your Brita filter isn't designed to target - especially if you're used to drinking filtered bottled water. Some of the possible tastes in your water, which aren't addressed by Brita systems, are: - Metallic or bitter taste - Usually caused by heavy metal impurities - Musty or stale taste - Typically caused by standing water in your pipes - Rotten eggs - Caused by the presence of hydrogen sulfide You may also notice a mineral taste if your drinking water supply is naturally mineral-rich. The higher your water's dissolved solids content, the more likely you are to notice unusual tastes. Brita filters are simple granular activated carbon filters and simply aren't up for the challenge of removing many of these taste- and odor-causing contaminants. ✅ How to Resolve: If your water still tastes bad after installing a Brita water filter, the best solution is to upgrade to a more capable water filter system. I recommend the Clearly Filtered Water Pitcher if you want to stick within the water pitcher category. This pitcher can remove hundreds more contaminants than Brita, so it's much more likely to eliminate all the contaminants that are giving your water a strange taste. You can also consider a reverse osmosis filter if your goal is to remove as many contaminants as possible from your water. Reverse osmosis systems eliminate up to 99.99% of all dissolved solids, so they're certain to tackle your poor water tastes. I've personally found that reverse osmosis systems are the most reliable solution for addressing bad-tasting water, but my advice is to choose a system with a remineralization post-filter to reintroduce healthy, taste-enhancing minerals back into your water, which are removed by the RO process. If you want to soften your water, you'll need a water softener. Not even the most capable water filter can remove hardness minerals effectively. 4) The Filter Needs Replacing An obvious reason why you might notice an unusual Brita filtered water taste is if your filter needs to be replaced. Brita filters last 2-6 months on average (depending on factors including the filter type, your daily water usage, and your water's TDS concentration). If you don't change your filter on time, three things could happen, which may possibly affect your water's taste: - The filter will lose its ability to reduce contaminants in your water, and chlorine and other taste-affecting impurities will remain. - The filter may degrade and form holes, allowing previously trapped contaminants to reenter your drinking water. - The filter may accumulate mold and bacteria, giving your water a musty taste. ✅ How to Resolve: Make sure to always replace your Brita water filter on time to prevent taste issues associated with an old filter cartridge. Some Brita pitchers have a filter change reminder that takes the guesswork out of replacing your filters. If you use a Brita water filter without this feature, my advice is to make a note in your calendar or diary every time you replace your filter, reminding your future self to replace the filter on the next suitable date. It's a good idea to keep a stock of at least one spare filter in your cupboard, so you can replace the cartridge at short notice if needed. 5) You're Tasting the Pitcher Materials Brita's pitcher range uses BPA-free plastic materials. If your Brita water tastes like plastic, it's likely that you're tasting the materials from the pitcher itself. Water absorbs flavors from porous storage materials (such as the plastics used to make Brita pitchers). The unfortunate reality is, if you're drinking from any pitcher that's made of plastic - even a BPA-free plastic - you'll likely notice a mild plastic taste. You're especially likely to notice a plastic taste in your Brita filtered water if the water has sat in the pitcher all day or if the pitcher is in direct sunlight (not recommended). ✅ How to Resolve: If your taste buds are super sensitive (which certainly isn't a bad thing) and you can easily detect the plastic taste of your Brita pitcher, my recommendation is to upgrade to a glass pitcher. Brita used to sell glass pitchers, but from my recent checks of the website (at the time of writing), these aren't currently available. Check out our guide to the best glass water filter pitchers if you're looking for recommendations in this category. 📑 Final Word I wrote this article because I wanted to provide a clear, actionable list of possible reasons why your Brita water tastes bad, and what to do about it. I thought that other sources had failed to share genuinely helpful information based on their own firsthand experience using Brita filters, and I'm hoping that this resource is more useful to you because of my knowledge as a Brita customer and water filtration expert. Hopefully, all your questions were addressed in the guide above. But I've answered a few more in the FAQ below, so keep reading if you want to expand your knowledge further. ❔ FAQ Why does the water in my Brita taste funny? The water in your Brita might taste funny if the filter is old and needs replacing, the filter isn't able to remove the contaminants that affect your tap water taste, or the filter needs priming or repriming. It's possible that the "funny" taste in your Brita is actually just the taste of filtered tap water, which can take some getting used to. However, filtered water shouldn't taste bad - just different. Does Brita change the taste of tap water? Yes, Brita does slightly change the taste of tap water because it can remove chlorine. That means your filtered drinking water should be free from the chlorine aftertaste of unfiltered water. However, don't expect a Brita filter to make a massive difference to your water quality. There may be some contaminants responsible for bad taste that a Brita water filter can't remove. Why does my new Brita water taste bad? If the water in your Brita tastes bad and you have a new filter, the problem is most likely that the filter needs to be primed. Make sure you follow Brita's filter preparation instructions - you usually need to hold the filter under running water for 15 seconds, then filter and discard the first three pitchers of water before you can use the filter for drinking water. Rarely, you might have received a bad filter. This is possible if priming the filter doesn't improve your water taste. How can you tell if Brita filter is bad? You can tell if your Brita filter is bad because you'll notice a decrease in your water quality (including bad taste and chlorine odor). The water filtration speed will decrease, and you may notice visible signs of damage or degradation on the filter cartridge. Read the full article

[ndorymaine]

Best flatbed scanner for mac mojave

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And because I'm pretty versed with the intricacies of every macOS update before it comes out (I'm a nerd like that!), I was quite confident I already knew why Epson Scan 2 was chosen to run with more Mac scanners than on Windows.

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Update: See below for the latest information on Epson Scan 2 with Windows Epson Scan 2 With Macīecause I have already been using Epson Scan 2 on my Mac for some time now, I obviously already knew that Epson Scan 2 was compatible with their Perfection line of flatbed photo scanners. Which, to be fair, is likely a much larger division that brings in a lot more revenue. Therefore, it's hard for me not to believe their main focus was just to improve the user experience for their business users who primarily use their Epson scanners to scan office documents.

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They use Epson Scan 2.) Epson (America) SupportĪfter reading the information they sent to me over several times, my takeaway was that Epson never looked at the development of “Epson Scan 2” as a piece of software that was badly needed to be a replacement to their aging scanner software across their entire line of scanners and on both operating systems.īecause of this, on Windows computers, I believe they were strategically choosing to update the scanning software on only a couple of subsets of their scanner models.

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(The FF series are photo scanners designed for fast photo batch scanning. When asking specifically about Epson Scan 2 running on Windows, Epson's support responded with the following details:Įpson Scan 2 for Windows was developed for retail/business document scanners see exceptions below. So I immediately reached out to the customer support team at Epson America, Inc and spoke to someone specifically about their release of Epson Scan 2 and who it was intended for. It was seeming to me as if Epson hasn't made it possible for their Perfection line of flatbed scanners to work for anyone with a computer running Windows - even if they had the latest update from Microsoft.

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Maybe there were a lot of Epson flatbed scanner owners who haven't even heard about this major upgrade yet.Īs I dug deeper into the compatibility of Epson Scan 2 with the most popular and latest models of their Perfection scanners, I was actually quite shocked to learn that there appeared to be a huge missing segment of users that - at least currently - aren't even capable of installing Epson Scan 2. I started to wonder how many other people were even using this new version. As time passed, and I began to realize there was very little information published about the new version - even on Epson's website. I started using Epson Scan 2 in the fall of 2019 on my Mac desktop computer connected to Epson's “Perfection” line of flatbed photo scanners. This translates to a scanning experience that's less confusing and therefore a lot more fun. In my opinion, even though noticeable features weren't added in this upgrade, Epson Scan 2 is still quite an improvement over the original Epson Scan scanning software.Īs you can see in the comparison screenshot below, Epson Scan 2 is cleaner looking, more compact, and with often-used settings and buttons reorganized so they are more logically located and easier to find. While other popular applications we all use routinely have received incremental upgrades through the years, as design aesthetics and technologies have changed, Epson has held the original Epson Scan back by ensuring the software looked and worked the same way for over a decade.īut, I have to say, since the time I discovered the new update in late 2019, I'm been quite impressed overall with what Epson has achieved with the almost complete overhaul. Could it be possible that “ Epson Scan 2” won't even run in the latest versions of Microsoft Windows?Įpson Scan 2 is an incredibly welcoming upgrade to those of us who have been using their original Epson Scan software all these years with what seems like no significant updates along the way. But, there's already been confusion as to which scanners and operating systems it supports. Epson quietly released a new version of their popular scanning software “Epson Scan” that comes bundled with their document and flatbed photo scanners.

[avajudge]

Ava Judge

Professor Susi

Social Media Policy

Social Media COMM1400

22 July 2022

The current state of social media ethics: what trends are happening in the industry? What are two current cases related to social media?

The current states of social media ethics are based on each social media platform. Each social media platform has a different, and similar code of ethics. Trends on social media are created by one influencer, then reenacted or recreated by many others to make it popular or “trending” on each platform. Such as the current trends on social media platforms such as Instagram and Tikok. Two current social media ethics that were found in common on both social media platforms were having respect with a positive attitude and tone, proper grammar and spelling, and responsibility, always having true and honest information.

Brands/professionals with strong social media ethical codes: what brands are utilizing proper social media ethical practices?

The brand Chan and Khrys is one example of a brand that uses proper social media ethics. According to the website hellapiny, the designers use ethically sourced, natural, biodegradable fibers such as organic cotton, hemp and Cupro, and their pieces are made locally in both the New York Garment District and San Francisco in both made-to-order and small batch production. This brand is also ethical because it is all about saving money and recycling to make sustainable clothing. This brand was created by Alvarado. The brands website is a blog that explains how the brand was created and her experience creating the brands herself. The blogs are credible because they are coming from her life and personal experience.

Are tere any professionals that you feel practice strong ethical behavior on social media? Support your choice with evidence. What are some takeaways you can bring forth in your own practices?

Emma Chamberlin is a professional that practices strong ethical behavior on social media. She often shares details about their personal life and her honest opinion of things she is trying, has tried or had experience with in the past. She is constantly working with brands and promoting sponsorships. She is a very well liked person for people of all ages and she is reliable and trustworthy to every company and brand deal she partners with.

Key concepts and issues: what main concepts do you think are necessary to adhere to for your own personal conduct online?

For me personally, I think maintaining trust is very important to keeping your audience, they would not want to follow, believe, or rely on you if you are not truthful. I also believe that it is important to keep your audience entertained. Posting relatable content, as often as possible, will keep your audience engaged in your content.

What to do and what not to do: what main concepts do you feel strongly against and want to make sure you avoid on social media?

On social media, I would want to avoid poor and untrustworthy content. I would not want to follow someone who is untrustworthy or posted offending or vulgar content, therefore I would not post myself for my followers and audience. I also feel strongly against and want to make sure what is avoided on social media are cyber bullying, profanity, illegal, negative, or abuse content.

Bullet point 5-10 core concepts that you will follow as a practicing social media professional. Include citations that you used

5 Core concepts that I will follow as a practicing social media professional are

Audience

Authorship

Format

Context

Purpose

The website that I found this article on was https://digitalcommons.uri.edu/jmle/vol6/iss2/6/.

[animeomegas]

What do you think about iruka’s alpha coming into the picture after he’s adopted naruto already?

@queenondeezmatatas : Omg monarch I was just thinking, let’s say that iruka adopted naruto when naruto was around 3 or 4, and then when his alpha comes around when naruto is around 12 like in the anime, and they start getting together etc. I can imagine iruka getting worried about letting this person into his family and everything that comes with that, so when naruto expresses his approval of this alpha that iruka really likes he’s just like🥺🥺 and imagine some time later, the first time naruto calls you his parent as well🥺🥺ugh I’m soft🥰🥰🥰

(Hmm, well let’s say Naruto was adopted when he was 8, because that’s when Iruka would have turned 18 and been able to adopt him legally, and now he’s just turned 12, but yes, this is a very interesting idea! Iruka absolutely gets worried about everything to do with this and it's so cute! Let’s see!)

The main difference is that Iruka is a lot more cautious when dating or courting any alphas if he already has custody of Naruto because he knows how the general population feel about him. No one is meeting Naruto for months at least, they aren’t allowed anywhere near Iruka’s house, and Iruka will put up with no disparaging remarks about Naruto, none at all.

But let’s say that everything has been going amazingly between Iruka and a new alpha. This alpha is perfect for Iruka is every way, and, from their discussions at least, they seem to have no problem with Naruto.

But Iruka is still terrified of introducing them. Because it’s one thing to not say anything bad about Naruto to Iruka's face and it’s another thing to help raise him. Iruka is so in love, and he doesn’t want to lose this alpha… But he will if they can’t handle Naruto. Naruto is his first priority, always.

Much sooner than he’d like, the fateful meeting day is upon him.

He’s inviting his alpha over to his house for dinner for the first time (to eat takeaway Ichiraku ramen because Iruka’s cooking sadly leaves much to be desired), and Naruto is joining you both after he’s finished his D ranks for the day.

…

You watch as Iruka nervously plates up the takeaway ramen into fancier dishes and tries to set the table for three. He’s already dropped the cutlery multiple times and smashed a glass in the sink.

“Iruka, here,” you say, taking the next batch of cutlery out of his hands and moving to carefully start setting the table. “Don’t be nervous, everything will be fine.”

Iruka gives you a shaky breath and a smile.

“I know, I’m just…”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “That. It’s just that Naruto wasn’t happy when I told him I was courting someone, and I don’t want him to be upset or feel replaced or anything. He hasn’t said it in a long time, but I know he’s often worried that one day I’ll get tired of him and abandon him.”

You finish setting the table before you step forward and pull Iruka into an embrace.

“He sounds like a good kid,” you say firmly, rubbing your thumbs on Iruka’s hips. “And I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how nervous you are about how I’ll react to Naruto, too.”

Iruka jumps, blushing somewhat at being called out so directly, but before he can defend himself you hold up a hand to stop him.

“I don’t blame you for being nervous, ‘Ruka, I think it’s admirable, and not to mention sexy, how protective you are” you reassure and Iruka hits you lightly on the arm for the sexy comment. “I’m just trying to let you know that you have nothing to worry about, I’m not so closed minded as to blame a child for events that happened when he was a baby.”

“I know, I know, I’m just…”

“Nervous?”

“Shut up.”

…

Dinner had gone better than expected. Iruka’s idea of distracting Naruto with ramen had worked like a charm at lowering his defences and allowing for Iruka’s son and the person who he hoped would one day be his mate to start bonding.

Things weren’t perfect, Iruka could tell that Naruto was nervous about being replaced by this new person, and he’d never been the best at sharing Iruka’s attention (it had made the teaching Naruto’s class at the academy something of a challenge at times.)

But Iruka was now sure of his choice in alpha. They truly were perfect!

They had spoken to Naruto with only the kindest and most patient of voices, they had understood his boundaries and never pushed them, they didn’t hold the Kyuubi against him, and they appeared to be both dedicated to helping raise Naruto and also respectful of Iruka’s final say as Naruto’s father. They had taken every one of his concerns about them and obliterated them from his mind.

Iruka felt giddy.

He just had to make sure Naruto was feeling okay after everything this evening. He had been pretty enthusiastic in the middle, eager to have the attention and affection from someone new, but when he’d walked in on Iruka and his soon-to-be alpha kissing goodbye in the doorway, some of the enthusiasm and left him and Iruka couldn’t figure out what was going on in his head.

…

“Hey, you ready for bed?” Iruka asks softly, stepping into Naruto’s bright orange room without so much of a wince (practice after many years.)

“Mhmm,” Naruto hums affirmatively. He’s laying on his bed in his pyjamas, half-heartedly packing up his weaponry ready for training tomorrow.

“I know that must have been a lot,” Iruka tries to bring up this evening carefully as he perches on the bed next to Naruto. “How are you feeling?”

Naruto shrugs but Iruka can see that he has something to say.

“What is it, Naruto? You can tell me, this is your home too, you always have a say,” Iruka says, hoping beyond hope that Naruto hasn’t decided he hates Iruka’s partner.

“Will you get mated?”

“I-“ Iruka hesitates but tries to answer honestly. “Probably, if you’re okay with it and everything goes well.”

Naruto considers that answer for a moment before continuing.

“And then you’ll have pups, right? That’s what people do when they get mated, Sakura-chan said so.”

“It’s what some people do,” Iruka gently corrects. “And… I’m not sure yet, maybe, maybe not. Is that something you would want? A sibling?”

“They’d be my sibling?” Naruto asks, surprised. “But I’m…”

“You’re my pup, Naruto, that’s what you are,” Iruka says firmly and with no room for argument. He pulls Naruto in for a hug and Naruto immediately accepts the affection. He had always been a tactile person, and hugs were a good method for calming him down. “Any other children I may or may not have will be equally as important as you, and I will love them just as much as I love you, no more and no less.”

“Do you promise?” Naruto asks, voice muffled by Iruka’s shoulder. Naruto grips the back of Iruka’s shirt tightly in an effort to elongate the embrace.

“I promise,” Iruka says fiercely.

Iruka holds to embrace, wanting to let Naruto decide when to break it. And he doesn’t for several minutes, so Iruka just rocks him slightly, stroking his hair and placing kisses on the top of his head. Naruto’s insecurities are not unexpected, but they still break Iruka’s heart every time he’s confronted with them.

“Okay,” Naruto says eventually, pulling away from the hug a little. “Then I approve.”

“What?”

“I approve,” Naruto says again, firmly and with a determined glint in his eyes. “They’re nice and they like ramen and they… they make you smile and I’m going to be going on long and dangerous missions soon to protect princesses, so I won’t be able to make you smile all the time. They can do it for me.”

“Oh, Naruto,” Iruka can’t stop his eyes filling up with tears as he pulls Naruto back in for another embrace. His pup was so selfless and caring, how did he get so lucky?

“It’s okay, dad, don’t cry,” Naruto rushes to reassure, but apparently it’s the wrong thing to say because the second Iruka hears Naruto say ‘dad’, the tears double.

“I love you so much, Naruto,” Iruka says tearfully. “More than anything else in this world, you know that?”

Naruto laughs tearfully.

“Me too, dad, I love you more than anything.”

[ashcroft-writes]

what did you think of episode 6 of the book of boba fett?

Hoooooooo my first anon ask and it's for my opinion on something Star Wars, the most INFAMOUS of minefields FJKDSJFKDLSFJDSKLFJDSKLFJDKSLFDS

But you know what, who doesn't like having opinions? So thank you for giving me an outlet for them, heh. Readers, please note! This contains spoilers from Episode 6 of BoBF below the jump! If you don't wanna be spoiled... cease reading now.

Also, like, I have a LOT of words, so there's that LMAO

So in Star Wars, I'm actually a really mellow viewer. I actively try to have a good time, avoid opinion screeds, and usually just pick out what I like and move on, even if there's a lot of bad—for me, canon's like a series of fun data points that fic can tamper with if it wants. This is because I know well that Star Wars tends to... well... eventually let people down when they have a lot of high hopes pinned on specific stories or characters and how they want those tales to be told. It's a beautiful, incredible sandbox. But sometimes it's terrible and messy lmao.

"Attachment leads to suffering" Jedi wisdom FJDSKJFDSKLFJDSKL

Anyway, speaking of that... Episode 6... ha, well, I'm going to assume you asked my opinion because I'm a noted passionate fan of BANE BOY! So I'll focus on him.

Genuinely, holy shit, I'm still kind of surprised he finally made it to live action at all! I've long thought Bane is a natural choice for it, since Mandalorian season one saw the showrunners going hard for that wonderful Space Western vibe. Still, I tended to love The Mandalorian best when it wasn't under the weight of cameos, and made us love it for what it was, not what fanservice it might provide.

BoBF has, I feel, struggled sometimes with standing on its own two feet despite a few genuinely engaging moments (I am a huge sucker for all the Tusken tribe cultural developments.) So as time went on, I started hoping less for a Bane cameo. I was actually quite content with the wonderful hyperdosage injected directly into my veins in Bad Batch anyway. The guy works exquisitely well in animation! I knew bringing Bane to live action would require a very particular and careful application of real world effects and CGI, and a really talented actor that's good with emoting despite alien makeup (Doug Jones was my own personal fancast, if anyone was wondering. Google an image of him as Abe Sapien in Hellboy, and like, you'll get it... and also how Bane's makeup might have been...)

Anyway, er... BoBF just has not excelled strongly in the effects department on occasion. Sometimes, it looks really good, I swear! And sometimes... it *exceedingly does not*, and it's almost baffling to me.

But never mind all that, because then I saw HIM. APPEAR.

I had thoughts.

They went like this.

1: ohhhhHHHHHHHHHHHH! HOLY SHIT IS THAT. THAT MIRAGE IN THE DISTANCE. HAT? DID I SEE HAT?!?!?!?! HAT!!!!! They didn't! No way!!!

2: Okay, we know the makeup isn't gonna be stellar; they don't have the budget and/or they seem to be going for A New Hope level of alien effects a little too strongly elsewhere. Brace yourself. Breathe. Breathe.

3: HAT. HAT. IT'S. IT'S MY BOY. HE HAS *ARRIVED!!!* I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING. (incoherent screaming)

4: Oh thank the FORCE they kept his voice!!!

5: Ohhhhhhh noooooooooooooooooooo my boy's faaaaace oh no I knew it wasn't gonna be good but oh noooooo (focus on the hat, Ashcroft, the hat is good, focus on the HAT)

6: DON'T YOU DO IT COBB. DON'T YOU DO IT. I LIKE YOU, BUT MY BOY IS AN ASSHOLE. HE WILL SHOOT YOU.

7. My boy's haaaaands nooooooooooo

8: *Cobb noooooo I told you!!!* *sobbing* (Oh thank goodness he might not be dead)

9: Well it could have been worse.

And... "well, it could have been worse!" being my main takeaway emotion regarding the execution... I'm almost laughing, because that's exactly what I expected. I dreamed big, then got sucker punched by something neither near as flawless as it was in my headspace nor as awful as it could be. There's Star Wars for you! Really a monkey's paw in wish fulfillment, hahaha. My biggest hot take: Filoni and crew *desperately* need to consult with the internet's boundless monster/alienfuckers to capture *all* of why Bane's so well liked before they do his makeup again. :P Regardless, Bane's appearance, no matter that, has given me several awesome canon data points I am particularly enamored of.

1. He has survived the Empire like a damn ornery cockroach, and I love that!

2. From his dialogue, it could be read that he's neither a fan of Fett NOR the Empire, and like, my stories were going to explore this anyway, so that works out great for me and my readers. I love that also!

3. ALL THESE YEARS LATER. AND HE IS STILL SUCH AN ASSHOLE. FJSKLFJDSKLFJDSKLFJDSKLFDS And with such a flair for the dramatic... the most old westy entrance he could have had, and he did it. Bless. Anyway, I can work with all this *just* fine.

I confess, I am slightly nervous forming and posting opinions on the matter before BoBF finishes out—what if I get MORE monkey's paw wish fulfillment??? We'll see what I pick up like I'm a magpie hunting for shinies and what I ignore. I actually already had some notions for my story's Bane this far in the future that don't entirely line up with what's going on here anyhow. Truly, all that matters to me is that everything has the potential to inspire more story thoughts.

Thanks for your question, anon! :D Y'all are welcome to share your own thoughts on BoBF in my inbox too everyone; just keep it civil.

[detectivecarlosreyes]

In Case of Emergency (Ch 7/10)

Ao3 | 2/13.3k | Buddie | Status: Incomplete

Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 7: You obviously haven't tried my cereal! Just a little slice of domesticity between Buck and Eddie, with Eddie planning on surprising Buck with a thankyou dinner for organising a Christmas that didn’t involve being apart from his son. Set post 3x10: Christmas Spirit.

All Eddie wanted to do was make Buck dinner as a thank you for playing a part in organising Christmas with everyone. He knew that even with Buck adamantly saying otherwise, that the main reason for it was for him and Chris. He saw the way Buck looked when Chris had asked to have Christmas with him, and he knew that Buck hated letting anyone down, especially Chris.

So, he had messaged Maddie, asking her to keep Buck distracted and out of the apartment for the afternoon while he got to work on a lasagne, sourcing the ingredients and letting himself into Buck’s apartment as a surprise for him when he got home. It was nothing extravagant, but he knew how much Buck appreciated a home-cooked meal and that it was one of his favourite meals.

It was no secret that he was not the best in the kitchen, oftentimes when they did have dinner at his place it involved either takeaway or Buck being the one doing the cooking. Which is why he thought he might try his hand at doing something unexpected, as a form of appreciation instead of more gifts.

Unfortunately for him, even with confidence, a well-laid plan and a solid recipe, a meal could be easily undone by a cook’s ineptitude and this time was no exception.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

It had been a few months since they’d had that morning conversation and things have been going steady for Eddie and Buck. It felt right and easy, easier than either of them could have thought it would be. They decided that day to go slowly, privately for the time being as they learned more of each other through this new lens of their relationship.

They were pretty sure that the others hadn’t picked up on anything different between them and they were perfectly content to keep a lid on their relationship in the workplace; that was something that they had made clear with each other at the very beginning, to keep their personal life separate from work, and away from prying eyes at least for the time being.

However, despite their attempts at keeping their relationship quiet for as long as possible, there was no escaping the observant eyes of one Maddie Buckley, who, after a couple of months of putting two and two together, eventually managed to coax the truth out of Buck before dinner one evening while Chim was still on the way from his apartment. She had been quick to both celebrate the development and promised that she’d keep their secret until they were ready to publicly be a couple.  

Throughout those months Buck was over at Eddie’s more often, spending more and more time with him and Chris. By Christmastime, Buck was surprised to learn that he was Chris’s second choice after knowing that he couldn’t spend it with his dad. It was heart-warming to know that his boyfriend’s son already saw him as family enough to want to spend Christmas with him and, he couldn’t bear disappointing the kid.

It didn’t take much to get the idea set into motion, especially once he shared it with Athena and let her have full reign in getting everything organised. That day was his gift, making sure everyone in the team could still have the chance to celebrate Christmas on the day and in his head, he said it was for everyone but deep in his heart he knew the true reason was that it was always meant to be a gift for Eddie and Chris.

He never expected any sort of thank you, that was never the purpose nor the point of having Christmas in the firehouse, besides seeing everyone’s joy was thank you enough. He certainly never expected to find Eddie preparing dinner in his apartment while he’d been out with Maddie taking advantage of post-Christmas sales in the limbo week before New Year’s.  

Even from the other side of the door, he could hear the sounds of someone in the kitchen and he grinned to himself knowing there to be only one person who had both the access and the comfortability to be in his apartment without him being present.

This was something that had become a common occurrence between each other. Letting themselves in regardless of whether or not the other was home, Buck doing it more often than Eddie; making themselves comfortable knowing that the other would be home soon. So, it was quite the pleasant surprise for the roles to be reversed especially as he saw the amusing sight of Eddie frowning at the dish in front of him, skewer in hand.

“What’s all this?” he uttered as a way of announcing his presence, unable to contain himself as he closed the door with his foot and watched as Eddie startle minutely as he placed the mysterious dish back in the oven before fiddling with the timer dial and then smoothly leaned one arm against the countertop beside him, in an attempt to mask his earlier surprise.

“And a hello to you too,” responded Eddie with that near mocking tone that Buck couldn’t help but love. It was enough for him to immediately drop the bags where he was standing and stride over to his partner, in more ways than one, and quickly kiss his lips in apology and greeting.

“Hey there,” he murmured as he loosely wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist before breaking eye contact with Eddie as he surveyed the kitchen with a furrowed brow before returning his gaze back to Eddie’s, “I didn’t forget any plans, did I? If I knew you were here, I would’ve come home earlier.”

Eddie hummed contentedly and brought his arms around Buck, keeping their bodies impossibly close, “Nope, no plans. I just wanted to surprise you with dinner to thank you for what you did for Christmas.”

Touched that Eddie felt the need to thank him for something that he felt didn’t need thanks, he looked away bashfully, “I didn’t really do anything, just talked to Athena about it, she did all the work.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, I’m sure you did more than you let on. No matter, it meant the world to Chris,” Eddie tilted his head up and claimed Buck’s lips with his own before parting once again, “and to me, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Buck said softly, and pecked him on the lips once more before stepping out of Eddie’s arms and moved past him to look over the saucepans still holding some of the leftover sauces, “So, what did you decide to make?”

With his back to Eddie, he didn’t see the frown fall on his face, but he could hear the hint of barely concealed irritation colour his voice, “Lasagne. I was hoping Maddie would keep you out for a bit longer, so it’d be ready by the time you got home, but it’s not going exactly how I planned.”

“I knew she was up to something, there was just something in the way she was acting.” Buck shook his head as he murmured to himself, bemused, now understanding the conniving glint in his sister’s eyes.

“Anything I can help with?” he asked Eddie as he sampled both of the sauces and felt his mouth water in response, half surprised how well they’ve turned out.

Eddie hip-checked Buck to move him away from the oven door as the timer went off and reclaimed the oven mitts to bring the dish out of the oven. The cheesy top was a deep golden at this point and the edges were darkened to a near-burned look.

Buck watched with mild amusement as Eddie skewered it again and groaned in frustration, “Only if you know anything about softening the pasta sheets, I used the oven- ready ones because they were supposed to be easy but they’re still crunchy in there. I hoped that maybe the extra ten minutes I put it in for would’ve helped.”

Seeing the tension in Eddie’s shoulders and knowing how much he hated feeling like he was failing at something, Buck crowded up behind him, placing his hands on Eddie’s hips and pressed a kiss to his shoulder as he peeked over, reaching around to make his own assessment.

“Not all hope is lost just yet. We might be able to salvage this with some boiling water, plastic wrap, and foil,” he said thoughtfully as he stepped back and leveraged himself up to sit on the island bench unfazed as Eddie looked at him expectantly before frowning.

“Oh, I see, by we you mean me?” he responded in playful sarcasm with a hand on his hip as he took in Buck’s new position.

Buck laughed and spread his hands in an open gesture, “Eds, I am entirely confident that you can do this without me.”

“Except for the fact that I have no idea what I’m doing. This isn’t part of the recipe.” Eddie shot back a hint of anxiety in his voice, causing Buck to relent in his teasing, and clearly explained what needed to be done, suppressing a smile when Eddie’s face flooded with relief over having instructions to follow.

Half an hour later, he was watching with bated breath as Eddie cut through the now soft and pliable layers of the lasagne, looking as though he expected the dish to be completely inedible, much like the few dinners he’d attempted in the past.

It seemed in Eddie’s eyes it was nothing short of a miracle, considering his track record, and he voiced as much as they ate at the table, asking how he could have possibly known how to salvage their dinner aside from scraping off the sauces and trying again with a different pasta.

“Believe it or not, I did the exact same thing the first time I made it after moving away from home.”  Buck shrugged as he answered between mouthfuls, “and then searched online how to fix it without losing the whole batch.”

“Damn, and here I was thinking that you figured it out all on your own.”

“Sorry to disappoint but the internet is and will always be my best friend when it comes to cooking, it has yet to fail me on fixing any meal.” Buck proclaimed and then added as an aside, “not to mention, Bobby is a vault when it comes to problem-solving food.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Shortly thereafter as the dinner itself came to a close, the topic of conversation gravitated to Buck's shopping when Eddie’s eyes drifted to the abandoned bags by the door, reminding Buck of the gift that he’d almost forgotten about until now, having been caught up in the domestic vision of seeing his boyfriend cooking for him.

“Now I know you said Christmas lunch was a gift in and of itself, but I ordered this well before I even came up with that idea and it seems even more fitting that you get it now.”

He watched with pursed lips as he slid the already wrapped present across the table to Eddie, suppressing what was probably a shit-eating grin as he did so, knowing exactly how Eddie was going to react.

Eddie eyed it suspiciously as he opened it before standing arms outstretched as he dryly read the words out loud, “I can’t cook for shit, but it’s my turn.”

“Flip it over,” Buck suggested with a snort unable to contain the amusement of his own joke to himself especially when he could see how much effort Eddie was putting into trying to keep a straight face as he continued, “who says I can’t cook? You obviously haven’t tried my cereal!”

“One side for me and one side for Chris,” Buck supplied lightly, barely able to keep the laugh from his voice.

Eddie rolled his eyes in mock annoyance but couldn’t maintain the façade, eventually breaking down into chuckles as he threw the apron back in his face, “you’re a menace.”

“You know you love it,” Buck responded smugly.

“Hmm,” Eddie hummed thoughtfully, coyly playing off his amusement as he bracketed Buck’s body with his arms and distracted him with a kiss before speaking against Buck’s lips, “that’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

[elendiliel]

Masterlist

As semi-promised, a list of my direct-to-Tumblr fics. (Most of my nonsense is on AO3, and cataloguing it all will take quite some time, but I may add it later.) Hel, or in full Jedi Knight Helli Abbasa, is my primary Star Wars OC; Torrent, a semi-OC (technically canon, but his characterisation is nearly all mine), is her second-in-command. Glitch is my Transformers Animated OC, a young field-tech who joins Team Detroit after the events of Season 3 as Ratchet’s apprentice and Bumblebee’s partner (and later girlfriend).

Star Wars

Full-length fics (main universe):

Moving Forward - Lightning Squadron encounter takeaway for, in the clones’ cases, perhaps the first time.

Here For You - Obi-Wan checks in on Hel in the aftermath of the devastating Citadel mission.

I Have Your Back - just a snapshot of some Fives-and-Hel combat shenanigans.

Return from Umbara - Fives is reunited with his other squad after one of the most painful campaigns of the war.

It’s Enough - Torrent and Hel are working together on a diplomatic assignment, but the clone can only keep half his mind on the job.

Speaking Freely - Hel is being briefed on a new mission by the Chancellor, and she’s not happy about it. At least when he leaves the fine details to Commander Fox, that gives them both the chance for a much-needed conversation.

Mother - some meanderings about one of the sacrifices Jedi have to make, and the unexpected compensations it may bring.

Getting Out - young Han thinks he’s found a perfect target, but appearances can be very deceptive.

Hidden in Plain Sight - in exile on Tatooine, “Ben” Kenobi comes across a very old acquaintance.

[untitled] - a “close-up” of Hel’s first duel with Darth Vader.

Aliit Ori’shya Tal’din - as Wolffe watches a Rebellion unit return from a mission, he reflects on their - and his own - remarkable past, present and future.

As the Maker Wills - Hel returns to Coruscant without fear of capture for the first time in twenty-five years.

[untitled] - the First Order have their hands full on Lothal, partly for reasons they’ll never suspect.

Full-length fics (Healing AU):

The Best Of All Probable Worlds - in a universe where Order 66 never happened and Helli and Torrent are allowed to marry, the Jedi and the clone prove still to be a perfect team.

Counter-Conspiracy - Anakin discovers an unsuspected talent, and an unlikely co-conspirator, when Fives is badly hurt warning him about a far-reaching scheme.

Trust Me - a plan is hatched and set in motion that could change the fate of the galaxy, and involves some rather unlikely people.

A Life Laid Down - a confrontation between a Jedi delegation and Chancellor Palpatine doesn’t exactly go to plan. For anyone.

Burc’yase - in the aftermath of Palpatine’s arrest, Fives and Rex take good care of their older brother Fox.

Waiting For A Miracle - when Torrent learns of Hel’s injuries, nothing will keep him from her side.

Always Together - while Hel makes the slow journey back to health, the galaxy is changing fast, and for the better.

Lost and Found - Fives receives an unusual gift - and some unexpected but very welcome news.

New Adventures - the 501st Legion, specifically Jesse, Kix and Dogma, learn of Fives’ survival - and a few other pieces of news.

Into the Future - Lightning Squadron’s first encounter with the Bad Batch doesn’t exactly go according to plan. What’s new?

Free at Last - the infiltration of Skako Minor also goes slightly off the rails, but not by enough to prevent the team from reaching their objective.

Duty Before Feelings - Echo may be out of stasis, but getting out of Purkoll, and escaping the Techno Union’s forces, is still quite a challenge.

Mhi Solus Tome - Hel and Torrent finally tie the proverbial knot, surrounded by two of the most unusual families in the galaxy.

No Looking Back - the morning after their wedding, Torrent and Hel are summoned to a mission briefing - but it’s not urgent enough to ruin such a blessed day.

New Friends - Dr Mij Gilamar arrives at the Jedi Temple to meet the Jedi and clone who will be working with him on an undercover assignment. He doesn’t yet know how accurate their “cover” is.

Recon - Mij, Hel and Torrent navigate the new dangers of Sundari under Maul’s control.

Oya Manda - a coalition of Mandalorians, Jedi and clones fight to reclaim Mandalore from Maul, but only one person can defeat the former Sith and bring peace back to the war-torn planet.

Brotherly Love - as the dust settles after the battle of Sundari, Fives tries his hand at matchmaking.

Home - Torrent and Hel move into their new home, with the help of an assortment of friends and family.

My Turn - when Hel falls ill, Torrent is there to look after her - whether she likes it or not.

Nightmares - Torrent’s past comes back to haunt him, but thankfully he’s not facing it alone.

Families - Hel and Anakin have both seen their fair share of wartime chaos, but that’s nothing compared to raising children.

Full-length fics (other AUs):

[untitled] - Palpatine decides Initiate Abbasa would be an ideal back-up apprentice - which may be one of the worst decisions he’s ever made.

Outlines:

De-Conditioning - Helli is asked to help a recently reconditioned clone. but feels that her friend Ma’ro is more suited to the task.

Jedi Wedding - some thoughts on what Helli and Torrent’s wedding might look like, in the AU where it can happen in public.

Transformers Animated/Prime crossover (Misplaced Medic AU)

Far From Home - a space-bridge accident lands Glitch in a different universe, and a lot of trouble.

Spark-to-Spark - left alone with the children and the new recruit, Ratchet learns a bit more about his young colleague and her reality.

Soldier and Scientist - Wheeljack helps Glitch with an engineering project, and finds out a bit more than he expected about her Cybertron’s history.

Battle Mask - the friction between Glitch and Ultra Magnus has to be set aside if they’re going to survive.

Prisoner - when Glitch is captured by the Decepticons, the outcome is likely to surprise everyone involved.

Friends and Foes - on a mission with Arcee, Glitch finds herself having to take on Starscream to protect her comrade - and her opponent.

Partners - intercepted Decepticon transmissions may lead to a way home for Glitch, or warn of disaster for her universe.

Beautiful Chaos - is a powerful Energon signal a lucky break, or a deadly trap?

Gone - things go from bad, to better, to worse for Team Prime.

Operation: Rescue - the Autobots must work fast to get Ratchet back, and protect their now-exposed base, but they can still carve out time to take care of one another.

‘Til All Are One - both Team Prime’s rescue efforts and Megatron’s plans develop a fair few problems.

The Worlds Turned Upside Down - as Megatron prepares to cyberform Earth, the Autobots must stop him by any means necessary.

The Last Prime - Unicron’s return tests Team Prime to its limits, and gives it an unexpected new member.

The Winning Team - Knock Out reflects on his new comrades, especially a certain little medic.

[nikstersss]

Not How To Pass The PLE

Before I go into the main gist of this post, let me give you a small background story. I was a mid-year post-graduate intern in Manila who started in January 2021. I lived alone in our condo unit near the hospital I went to. My usual routine was to get up early, prep, take a short walk to the trike station where I’d take a tricycle to the hospital, go on duty, insert a coffee or carioca break in between, walk all the way home at the end of the day, then maybe have a short study session with a couple friends after dinner or just chill at home. It was a pretty good setup. But then COVID happened. Suddenly, I was a pandemic e-ntern stuck at home listening to Zoom endorsements and lectures all day. At first I was hopeful that things would somehow go back to normal and maybe I wouldn’t be spending the rest of my internship in front of a screen, but we all know how that turned out. 

I finished the first half of my internship with the regular year PGIs online. While they were prepping for their boards, I was on my second half with the new batch of interns (that’s probably you, dear reader)—still online. Now you might think that it would have been wise of me to use all that “free” time to start early with my own boards prep and you would be correct. I thought the exact same thing. And trust me, I tried. And failed. Countless times. I won’t even try to justify it. Admittedly, I still think it was a wasted opportunity to read more and make notes, but then again, there’s no use crying over spilled milk. Besides, while it would have been nice and probably less stressful, I still survived without it. Which means that you can, too. So if you’re one of those who’s berating himself because you “didn’t make the most out of your time”, cut it out. You’ll be fine.

Towards the end of my internship, I enrolled in a review center. Despite the asynchronous setup, the review schedule was super tight and the sessions already started while I was still in the middle of final reports and exams. Needless to say, I was already behind on that before it even began. In fact, I didn’t even get to focus on reviewing itself until maybe around early February because of clearance, paperwork, and application stuff. So if you were to ask me how long I really reviewed for the March 2021 boards, I’d say just a little over a month. Kasalanan ko. Wag po tularan. Stressful siya. Nakakaloka. 

And even when I did get to really buckle down and do some intense reading, I didn’t follow the program anymore. I tried to catch up at first, but I was already way behind. But I am grateful for all the summarized material because that meant I didn’t have to pore over the mother books anymore. What I will say, though, is that because I didn’t exactly follow the recommended study hours etcetera, I was able to enjoy the whole process because I did it at my own pace. Sure, there was still that dread that maybe I wasn’t on the same level as the others, but I learned to tune those thoughts out eventually. And that’s where goal-setting and discipline comes in, I guess. 

The most common question I’ve been getting is what was my day like during the PLE review season. Honestly, I’d like to say I had a routine I followed, but that’s only half-true. While I did have a structure for my day, I rarely followed it exactly. Nevertheless, allow me to share what it would have been like if I did: 

Ideally, I’d wake up at 5:00 A.M. then do my morning routine which included prayer and meditation, making my bed, taking a shower, and brewing coffee. And because I’m the type of person who enjoys these mundane activities and slow mornings, I also took this opportunity to get myself in the zone before all the studying that’s to come. I’d plan out my study goals and outline (something you can do the night before, actually) then maybe have breakfast while watching some videos (could be review-related, or those self-motivational vids, or maybe even Korean street food). I’d do whatever I wanted to wake my brain up without stressing it out too much until around 6:30 A.M. By this time, I’d work on backlogs for about an hour and study until about 10 or 11 A.M.—it depends how in the zone I am. I’d prep and cook lunch and then eat while watching Netflix maybe or even play a bit of Fortnite or Paladins until about 1:00 P.M. At this point, I’m pretty certain to be quite sleepy so it’s either I make coffee or tea, or maybe even go out to study at a coffee shop, and then it’s study all the way until 7 P.M. I then take a break to get some exercise, take a shower, have a light dinner, and if I feel like I deserve it, nap for a little bit. At around 8:30, my family usually calls and then we pray the rosary together. After this, I study again, but more of a recall and review session for the day’s progress until about 11:30. I then have my night self-care routine and then go to sleep around midnight. 

The main takeaway from the previous paragraph? “Ideally.”

During the first few days of setting up my schedule or routine, following it was already challenging, but still doable. But then the backlogs started piling up and no matter how much I tried to streamline the whole study process, I just couldn’t keep up. I did what I could to follow study habits and schedules, but the setup was falling apart. And you know what? That was okay. 

Normally, my type A self would have been so frustrated already with how poorly I was handling my review season. Admittedly, there were a few meltdowns and anxiety attacks as the exam drew nearer, but for the most part, I just let things happen as they did. I still adjusted, sure, but I wasn’t hard on myself for always having to. I kept changing goals when I didn’t meet them (which was probably 80% of the time). There were even instances where I’d finish a handout and then I’d say that okay, I’ll watch an episode for a reward, but that episode became the entire season. While I considered myself to be the most chill reviewee, I also thought I was the worst because I refused to give up any of my wants for my needs. I resisted, of course, but then they’d bug me the entire time I was studying so instead of staying productive, I’d just annoy the hell out of myself. I was probably just lazy and stubborn. LOL. Long story, short, it was a constant battle. 

There were times when I felt confident enough to power through the whole thing. I enjoyed the whole process of studying, actually. Making notes and my own ways of memorizing things was fun. I made use of different study strategies, self-checks, and motivational boosters (more on these on a different post). Aside from these, having review-mates who were just a chat away made things bearable. Breakdown session muna tas aral na ulit. And how could I forget all my sweet friends who would send over coffee ayuda every now and then? To me, passing the boards, while mainly should be for oneself and one’s self-actualization, is also about not letting down these people who have been with you throughout your journey. 

But it wasn’t always a hyped-90s-movie-transformation-montage kind of environment. Other times, I was just worn out and dejected by my lack of progress. In the already meager time I had to study, I still had plenty of off-days. Concepts just wouldn’t stick and it was disappointing how I’d already forgotten what I just read a couple days ago. It got really tiring even if I was staying indoors all the time. I missed the comfort of coffee shops and the company of study buddies. I missed my family. I wanted to hug our dog. There were days when I couldn’t even bring myself to make coffee and open my notes. I even reached a point where I was sure that I wouldn’t finish reading all the material. (I kid you not, I have handouts I never got to open.) 

Yet here I am. Here I am writing about how I survived all that and got those two letters attached to my name. I am not a good example, obviously. There are hundreds better than me and you probably should be taking advice from them instead. I’m simply writing this to tell you that you don’t have to worry. This is all just to ease your anxieties about the PLE. I’m not saying it’s an easy feat that you can just achieve just like that. While I seemed rather complacent, I still put in the work, after all. Admittedly, I know I could have done more, but again, I’m not going to dwell on that anymore. It’s done. 

My goal in writing this is to let you know, my dear future doctor, that you’re going to be just fine. Here’s someone who understands the huge disconnect that stemmed from being a pandemic e-ntern. Here’s someone who’s always been doubtful and full of anxieties about the PLE even before she filed her application at the PRC. Here’s someone who constantly prayed that the PLE be moved even for just a month (or kahit two weeks lang masaya na ako nun) up to the week before the exam along with a rising number of cases. Here’s someone who barely has the capability to maintain focus for more than an hour. Here’s someone whose reading pace was literally at 10 minutes per page (yes, I actually timed it and IDK if that’s slow or really slow). Here’s someone who still allowed herself to study at coffee shops and even have samgyup (with proper health protocols, of course) even if she knew she was drowning in backlogs. 

My point is that if I managed to pass despite all that, you can, too. My close friends know that I developed a rather funny mentality to ease the jitters as the boards drew nearer. I knew and claimed it for myself that I would already pass. I viewed the whole PLE as just a “formality”--a means for His plans of me becoming a doctor to manifest in this realm. I believed it so much to the point that I thought that no matter what bloopers and slip-ups I have during the test, I’d still see my name on the list of board passers. I’m not saying you should totally ease up and just have a come-what-may attitude. Again, I’m not the model student you should be following here. What I’m saying is to have faith in yourself, your capabilities, and in God. So chin up, Doc. Just a little more ‘til you get to legally practice with that MD at the end of your name.