#thanks petro

[super-who-locked-me-in-here]

[love-songs-for-emma]

hannibal fic writers will write the most beautiful eloquent metaphors, dialogues, and stories i've ever read & then the tags will be like "Basically Hannibal giving Will mushroom tea and Will being high as fuck for 1k words" (x)

[jaz-xedarix]

Happy news〜

ROM IV The Mark of the Lady Saint. Chapter 2: The Templar Witch part II & III will be out next week after corrections.

I'm working on it right now.

Even if I wanted to do it on Holidays, I had plenty of work. That week and the previous one (due a cosplay project and a ton of work for a con the next week) was very busy and my head can't really think I English at that moment, I didn't even had the patience to turn on my computer.

But I am sure I can finish it in some hours and send it to correction today, so I'll be able to post it during the next week. It depends on the proof readers.

With this, chapter two will be finished and we start the best part of the novel!, so I am very very excited. I will do my best so I can bring to you the whole chapter or at least two parts of it during the month.

♥️Thanks a lot for your patience and support again.♥️

See you soon 😘✨

[petrodragonicapocalypse]

shrooms and silvercord extended editions last night was genuinely a life changing experience i think. what do i even do now

[ghostforwhat]

Yesterday i found out there there is not one, but two chapters of the smoking fic

HEIIDHSIQOWJHDIOFIWJ

I had only seen the first chapter on here and love it so much!! I quite literally read it everyday for weeks. AND THEN I FOUND THE SECOND CHAPTER AND I THINK I LITERALLY DIED AND CAME BACK

thank you so much for sharing your writing with us!

HIII THIS MADE ME GRIN LIKE A FUCKIN IDIOT IM HAPPY YOU LIKED IT

[honeygrahambitch]

Fun fact about me, the empathy ask: I am also the "in front of your back" and the one who has been begging Petro to write a hrab fic :) I ask the deep questions lol

Hope you are happy anon, i really hope you are happy. That fic changed everyone forever. It was something similar to the way astronauts go into space and when they come back they have a hard time getting used to the earth again. That's how i feel after reading the hrab fic. A unique experience. Nothing will be able to surpass this.

[stranded-labyrinth]

oh, the idea that i have had.

[bird-likes-to-fandom]

3. give me di angelo

Number Three: Petro di Angelo

Ah, Petro. Poor kid.

He suffered from depression his whole life and he commit suicide in 1906 when he was twenty-six years old.

He was never really romantically inclined, and never infatuated with the girls his mother sent his way. No, his musician's hands composed tales of men, strong handed and loving, behind closed doors his family would never unlock.

Petro was a beautiful singer and a great pianist, though he also played violin, flute, and harp. He also wrote and read poetry, which is his older brother Domenico's fault, along with the piano playing. He looked up to Domenico a lot, and considered him his favorite sibling. (Really, Domenico was everyone's favorite sibling)

Petro was there for the birth of Angelina and Maria, and was one of the first people to hold both of them. He was dead by the time Gia was born, so he never got to hold her.

Overall, Petro was a really thoughtful and quiet person. He didn't talk much, and when he did people never really listened to him. He was sweet, but not many knew him the way they should have. I am so emotional about this boy.

He was the second closest (the closest was Amalia) to his sister Sofia, and was always angry at his father after her death. He hated him for taking them on that trip when Alberto could have just gone alone like usual, and he never forgave him. On the other hand, he was a Mama's boy as a kid, big time. He almost never left her side until age thirteen when she started pressuring him to court girls.

I think if he'd lived long enough, he and Apollo probably would've had a kid together.

[communistkenobi]

im an undergrad student who was thinking about specializing in studying fascist movements in North America for my masters and ive really enjoyed reading your book commentary - you connect things that I'm not always aware of in ways that are really comprehensive and appreciate

Do you know of any researchers who are moving things on the topic right now (most of the books ive read are around 20+ years old, unfortunately)?

(sorry if any of this is unclear/grammatically incorrect/weirdly worded - I'm super sick rn)

thank you! I'm really glad to hear that :)

For contemporary writing, I'm currently working through some of Alberto Toscano's work - he has a really interesting article from 2021 on fascism from a Black radical/Marxist perspective where he summarizes various historical analyses of fascism from Black (particularly US) thinkers and activists. One thing I especially appreciate is that he complicates Aime Cesaire's formulation of fascism (i.e., "european colonialism come home") as incomplete when applied to settler colonial contexts, especially the United States - one of Cesaire's articulations of fascism is that (to paraphrase) "one fine day, the prisons begin to fill up, the Gestapo gets busy" and so on, and Toscano, working through Angela Davis and George Jackson, responds with (again I'm paraphrasing) "the prisons are already full! The Gestapo is already here!" etc. Toscano also has a new book that just came out in 2023 called Late Fascism, which explicitly addresses the current moment. I only have a physical copy of that so I can't share a pdf unfortunately, and I still need to get around to reading it lol.

These are also a couple random articles I found insightful:

Carnut (2022). Marxist Critical Systematic Review on Neo-Fascism and International Capital: Diffuse Networks, Capitalist Decadence and Culture War - does what it says on the tin

Daggett (2018). Petro-masculinity: Fossil Fuels and Authoritarian Desire - talks about car culture as a site of modern reactionary political movements, links climate denialism with (proto-)fascist movements

Parmigiani (2021). Magic and politics: Conspirituality and COVID-19 - this one does not mention fascism explicitly, but imo the intersection between new age spirituality, anti-vaccine sentiment, and qanon/q-adjacent conspiracies are pretty important to understanding contemporary fascist social movements, so I'd still recommend reading this

Finally, this isn't an article but I found this recorded lecture about the history of Qanon pretty interesting. I don't think the author gives particularly insightful answers on how to solve the problem of far right conspiracies in the Q&A portion but I found it to be a helpful summary

Otherwise I've been focusing a lot on decolonial scholarship more so than fascist scholarship - this is again guided by Cesaire's argument that Europe/The West broadly is inherently fascist. These works aren't contemporary, but you can look at this post for some of the readings I linked on decolonial scholarship if you want to go that route. Those are serving me more for theoretical frameworks to guide contemporary analysis, not analysis of contemporary events directly

also idk if I need to put this disclaimer, but just in case this leaves my blog: this isn't a full throated defense of/apology for everything in these articles, I'm not claiming they're sufficient to understanding the present moment, these are just some of the things I've been reading recently and have found helpful in some way or another. a lot of contemporary work I have read (much of which isn't linked here because I don't think its very good/do not have it on hand) focuses on populism and authoritarianism as central analytical terminology, which i think does a lot of work to exceptionalize and mystify fascism as a historical and political process/project originating from European colonialism & Western imperialism, but these terms are endemic to the field so you have to contend with them no matter what

good luck with your studies!

[bungalowbear]

Across the Stars Interlude

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!reader

Word Count: 500

Summary: A send off for Tara.

Warnings: talks of death and grief, burning of a body

A/N: Thank you all for coming back to read this story after my lengthy time away from it. I truly appreciate it! Things will pick up again after this and we’ll be seeing more of our boys again. I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to send them my way. Thank you!

Series Masterlist

There is no destination in mind when you leave Ibaar. All you can think to do is put as much distance between you and the Empire as you possibly can.

So you fly all the way to the edge of the Outer Rim, landing on a remote planet with miles and miles of grassland and forests and scattered mountain ranges. Feline creatures peek their heads out of the tall grass. They keep their distance but you can sense their eyes on your small group.

You, Petro, Gungi, and Lyra stand around a wooden pyre, erected from fallen branches of the trees in the area. Tara’s small body lays on top. Lyra washed away the blood and redressed her in clean garments.

The clearing is quiet. Even the creatures lurking know this is a somber occasion. The wind blows and rustles the cones in the trees above. They make a sound so natural and gentle that you feel as if the Force itself is here to guide the youngling into the next phase of her life cycle.

You step forward, torch in hand. Your body moves on instinct. Lower the torch. Light the pyre. Send Tara off in the tradition of the Jedi. Let her go.

But it’s the hardest thing you can possibly do in this moment. Guilt and shame weigh down on you. She shouldn’t have died in your care. You could have done more. It’s your duty as the older Jedi to keep them alive. And you failed.

Flame meets wood. It takes a minute for the fire to kindle, then within the next minute the entire pyre is ablaze, dancing with orange and yellow flames. Tara is engulfed by their heat and slowly her body begins to succumb to the fierce element.

You rejoin Petro, Gungi, and Lyra a few feet away. Each stare at the pyre with watery eyes, sniffling and holding onto each other. Petro and Gungi hold hands while Lyra has her arm looped through Gungi’s right one as she rests her head on his shoulder.

As you take your place beside them, your expression remains stoic. If you show even an ounce of what you’re feeling it will all come pouring out. Your Master would scold you if she were here. She’d tell you this is a natural part of the life cycle. There is no need to hold onto these emotions because what has happened is already done. There is nothing you can do except accept it and move on. Protect those who still live.

“The Empire has hunters,” you say. “Jedi hunters.”

Petro peeks his head around Gungi. “What does that mean?”

“It’s not safe to travel together anymore.”

No one gives voice to the reality. You will have to split up. Traveling in a group will attract more attention, easily putting you back on the Empire’s radar.

Instead, you all remain silent as the fire rages on. A small hand slip into yours. You hold fast to the silent comfort.

i do not have a taglist. please follow @bungalowbear-archive and turn on notifications.

[jaz-xedarix]

I can't sleep... Again.

So I did this post in Spanish last time but... I have to say this here too.

I wrote some babbling about Brother Petros that I wanted to share with you, but I did it in Spanish, trying to find out if there are some people who want to read about Trinity Blood in Spanish and as it was rebloged (thanks really!) I will post this soon, but of course, I want to do it in English as well, and I don't know if I can post them together or not, since all the text in Spanish is ready. I have to rewrite that in English, I don't suggest you to use the translator for it because I used some untranslatable words and it may be a weird experience 🤣🤣🤣 So I will write something more appropriate in English soon.

In more interesting news I want to post the next part of the translation, but it will be after I finish some cosplay projects I have to accomplish before May 20.

If my head haven't exploded yet, maybe it could be possible to upload it sooner. I hope so. ✨

Maybe all the stress from past YEARS suddenly decided to hit me now so I had some fever and I had to get some vitamins and painkillers to get well 💉😖, so... I have to take it easy with stuff, and of course, take better care of me, even if sometimes I feel that is difficult, but I trust everything is going to be fine :3

I'm really excited for this year because I want to do lots of things even if my body is not making it easy to me XD

Send good vibes, please 🥺💕✨.

Thanks for your patience, I really appreciate it ❤️‍🔥🌹.

See you soon 🍆✨ (I should be putting a 🍌✨ instead, you will discover what I meant soon ;b)

[penguin--rat]

THE TERMINATION OF RT465-002 (dr ostrov belongs to @mayyak, ms schuhart belongs to @tarot-the-silly-one)

5.4. 19:30

This is my first time alone since the experiment started yesterday. I will keep this short.

Nobody seems ‘too disturbed’ yet. Only Dr. Ostrov left, but that was to be expected. Ms Schuhart is trying to stay professional. Unsure how long that will last. Neither of their participations are necessary, but if everyone who is to participate in this experiment quits, what then? Will I have to monitor it on my own? I’d handle it, but I would rather my colleagues grow a spine than for it to come to that.

Half of the subject’s heart + brain have been removed.

6.4. 23:10 Busy day. No time to write an entry. Dr. Ostrov still isn’t here. Ms Schuhart is still working with me. Considering requesting somebody to replace Dr. Ostrov if he doesn’t come in tomorrow.

7.4. 13:50

I have time to write my thoughts now. Dr. Ostrov did not come in yesterday, and I’m beginning to doubt he will come in today. Despite what I wrote yesterday, I don’t want to take an opportunity like this away from him. If he doesn’t come in today, a phone call would be appropriate – if not out of personal interest, then out of professional interest. Maybe a text message would be better than a phone call.

Ms Schuhart is currently working on a separate project. I believe she will return. Despite our differing views, I’d dislike for her to resign from this project. Should I thank her? No, that would hint to– Maybe  “I know this is not easy for you. I appreciate your cooperation.” Would that be appropriate?

8.4. 10:15

My schedule is tight today. About ¾ of the heart was removed, as well as another half of the brain. I sent Dr. Ostrov a message, and found out he will not be participating in this any further. I’ll request somebody to replace him. Ms Schuhart is still working.

9.4. 17:50

I’ll take a break at the end of this week (12.4.). Not too long. Or – not a week. 8 days. The 7 days mark is important, and there might be development to observe, decisions to be made. Instead, I will – Tomorrow will be–

A break would help my productivity, but leaving for too long is unacceptable. What qualifies as ‘too long’? From my experience it varies. It’s natural for my colleagues to get caught up in work, but would it be weird to get caught up with this? Would they think so… Mm. I’ll ask Viktor about this.

10. 4. 18:30 Found a replacement for Dr. Ostrov. Ms Schuhart is missing today. I was not aware she held a fondness for RT465, and was under the assumption she disliked the subject, but I am not surprised. Sentimental ones like her always give out.

Perhaps somebody else from another department would be a better fit for this experiment? Somebody that didn’t know the subject – but would I be forced to quit this experiment then, as its primary handler? I don’t want my “worry over Dr. Ostrov and Ms Schuhart” to be mistaken as grief. If the latter desires, she can resign from this experiment herself, no? But as the one leading this experiment, it is my duty to do something about this.

I will stop writing down the time unless it is important, too (waste of time).

11.4. 

I suspect Petro Volkov would have been capable of participating/monitoring this experiment. Though he was a difficult man, he wasn’t bothered by ‘morals and ethics’. It pains me to flatter him, and it only pains me further to wish he were here.

Removed ¾ of the heart and ⅓ of the brain. + Ms Schuhart is back.

12.4. The subject’s ‘heart’ (a red clump)  is thrashing, not really beating, but there is still a pulse. RT465 could have been our greatest work, had it not been– as it was. Had it been better. It’s a shame, even I can see that. Ms Schuhart + the other one are working as instructed.

13.4.

An intern joined us today, but I sent it away before he could contaminate the project (vomit). Terrible. I worry that I underestimated the ‘cruelty’ of this experiment, and am ‘under-reacting’... Though I heard that that’s a natural grief response, too, I don’t want to be mistakenly accused of ‘grieving’ the subject–

I have not yet taken my break!! But I was right not to leave my coworkers (the intern) today, had he thrown up in the subject’s chest. But, when should I go? 3 weeks would be most practical. Any errors should become clear before then. Around the 25th? But that’s near the end of the month– the 20th? But that’s too soon…

14.4.

My colleagues are working as instructed. Dr. Ostrov hasn’t returned to work at all since he left. Visiting him would be bad for my productivity. I’ll send him another message. That’s the right thing to do, I believe.

The experiment has been going on for 10 days. I’m happy :) Removed ⅓ of both heart + brain. Sometimes I think I see it twitching/seizing? Administer more anesthetic/Possibility the subject isn’t getting enough nutrition to heal properly.

15. 4. Busy day. Working on other experiments + this. Colleagues working as instructed.

16. 4. Busy day. Colleagues are working as instructed. Checked schedule. I was right, we’ll be understaffed at the end of the month. Break in may?

17. 4.

The replacement for Dr. Ostrov resigned. I’m once again thankful for Ms Schuhart’s cooperation. However I’ve been thinking about having her off the experiment. It’s clear she doesn’t approve of this. Her disapproval could have a negative effect on the experiment, ex. She could refuse to work one day. And I don’t want to ‘owe’ her.

Her resigning by herself would be– worse. Three people resigning from the same experiment… bad!!! Don’t want this cut short. I could work on the experiment with only one assistant – I will request this. Unsure how to get Ms Schuhart off the project in a normal way. Removed ⅔ of the heart and ⅓ of the brain.

18. 4.

Busy day. Ms Schuhart is working as instructed. No progress with my goal yet. Looking at HR rules and regulations. 2 weeks since this began. Considering removing another organ fully, ex. lung.

19. 4.

Working on getting Ms Schuhart off the experiment. Only 2 people working on this would help me make the most of the budget, too…

RT465’s hair is growing long again. Why didn’t I fully shave it before this started? Cut the subject’s hair. It’s already growing again. Hate that, I have to clean it all up now. Some of the stray strands are sticking to its face – it's sweating. I’ll wash it off. So much to do, ugh.

Not much to share today.

20. 4.

Effectively removed Ms Schuhart from the project. Her replacement hasn’t come in yet, so I’m alone today. I’d keep it like this but I need somebody watching over the subject when I’m sleeping, wake/call me in case of an emergency, etc. I’ll sleep here tonight.

DON’T FORGET: ⅓ of the heart, ⅔ of the brain, and an organ of my choice

21. 4.

Busy day. The replacement is here, I have to teach him the ropes. He’s fine. Rude, but does his job as instructed. I shouldn’t have to remove him from the project. Unless he throws up. Blegh.

RT465 is having trouble. I’ll sleep here again tonight.

22. 4.

The replacement is doing well. The subject is struggling more since its left lung was removed. I’m trying to believe in its ability to pull through, but it’s let me down so many times before...

Though it wasn’t a complete failure, it didn’t meet its full potential, either. It was trying, its last week alive, to prove itself. I’m thankful - had it not, this experiment couldn’t have taken place. There’s not much I can do to guarantee its survival. More anesthetic, maybe.

23. 4.

Forgot to put in a request for a day off. Will do so tomorrow. The heart has fully regrown, the lung and brain are still missing pieces. My assistant wants to remove half of it again, or ‘at least a quarter’, but I want to wait until – what? Until it has a better chance of survival? This is its termination. ‘Survival’ is not the goal.

Removed half of the heart.

24. 4.

I know that I’m doing the right thing. I don’t feel guilty over the termination of a faulty subject. If anything, I feel – relieved? That I was the one the subject latched onto. God forbid it was Temnova in my place. It’d have been terminated long before now had that been the case.

My assistant is acting strangely. Considering giving him a raise. Removed half of the brain. The lung is still growing. 2 more days until it's finished, at most.

25. 4.

Busy day. Removed ½ of the lung, ¼ of brain and heart.

26. 4. Dr. Ostrov still hasn’t come into work. That reminds me I forgot to request time off. Not to mention that I’ve been sleeping here since the 20th, so almost a week. Not good for my back! I should go home soon, but we’re understaffed these days… I’ll take a week off after the experiment ends. That should be fine. Shows that going days without sleep + sleeping in a chair + ‘overworking’ myself have consequences on my human body + won’t have to worry about when to take a break from now on.

27. 4.

That man won’t be getting a raise as he is a spineless coward that quit when we’re understaffed! Not just the experiment, but the job completely, leaving me alone in this. Like I’ve said many times I can handle it, but it’s unprofessional.

I’ll have to request another assistant now, but there’s no telling when they’ll come here/who they’ll be. Hate this. Hate him. Not even a month and it’s all falling apart. Even RT465 deserves a better termination than this! I shouldn’t have gotten Ms Schuhart off the project. Can’t ask her to come back now, though. 

Won’t remove anything today. I won’t be able to write down detailed entries for the next few days for obvious reasons.

28. 4.

Busy day. Removed ¾ of the heart.

29. 4. Busy day.

30. 4.

Busy day. Still can’t believe my ‘assistant’ quit. Spineless. Coward. Removed ¼ of the heart (half of the heart is intact), ½ of the brain, and ¼ of both lungs.

1.5.

Busy day. The replacement should have been here today, but she’s not. Should have time tomorrow. It’s been almost a month since this experiment began. I was supposed to have a ‘break in may’, but I’m not complaining. I’m happy to have an opportunity to study the subject on my own without outside interference. I’m only upset with that ‘assistant’ for leaving me. No regard for anybody but himself. 

2. 5. Busy day. The replacement is still not here. Not removing anything today.

22:30 The replacement was here for an hour before leaving. I reprimanded her and insinuated that if she resigns from the experiment I will do everything in my power to fire her from the institute – which isn’t within my power, but she doesn’t know that. We removed ½ of the brain, ¼ of the brain, and I will, on my own, remove the subject’s right kidney.

3. 5. Happy to report my new assistant came in on time today, and that at least one person other than me knows how to do her job. She’s not rude like the last one either. This one should get a raise. Can’t lose her – can’t scare her away, either. Cut the subject’s hair today.

4. 5. Busy day. It’s been a month since the start of the experiment. The subject isn’t struggling as much anymore. Despite it all, I’m happy with its development. This milestone, a month, is the most crucial one; I can be stricter now! It’s survived this long, why not take out both of its lungs? Both kidneys, its liver?

Thank you, RT465. Back to work now.

5. 5.

Busy day. Removed ¼ of both the heart and the brain, the right kidney, and ½ of the left kidney. My back hurts… Should sleep in a bed soon.

6. 5.

Busy day. My request to give my assistant a raise for this experiment was approved.

7. 5.

I’m glad this is the assistant that I received. She doesn’t speak wastefully, does what she’s told, and hasn’t complained about the conditions we’ve been given. I couldn’t have received a better one. After this experiment is over, I must express my gratitude. Maybe I could argue for a permanent raise for her? It’s not my department, but I can at least put in a good word for her.

Can’t forget to give her a break!! She can’t burn out. Next weekend, maybe, today is Sunday and she’s only been here a few days– god, no. She shouldn’t need a break – this is her job. She’ll get a day off when she asks for it. 

8. 5.

Busy day. So many of those these days. It’s better than no work, though. Removed ½ of heart + brain + liver.

9. 5.

Learned that my assistant has every Friday off. Do I have an ‘every (x day) off’? I’ll have to check. Nothing else has happened today. My assistant doesn’t look too disturbed? Which is good. I hope I don’t come across as … ungrateful? Belittling? Words are beyond me right now. She’ll be here for a few hours, so I’ll take a nap.

10. 5. 

Busy day. I don’t like the look of things.

11. 5.

Busy day. Removed the heart fully + ¼ of the brain.

12. 5.

Busy day.

13. 5.

Busy day. The red clump has come back. It’s not that ugly, really, if you look at it from another angle.

13. 5. Busy day. My assistant is gone today. Won’t remove anything for her sake + the heart isn’t fully regrown. Things are looking worse.

14. 5.

My fears that the experiment will be cut short aren’t unfounded anymore. The funding for this has been halved – as a penalty for so many people resigning, I guess. 

If I have to work unpaid for this to continue, so be it, but my assistant surely wouldn’t do the same. This means nothing to her, but to me– I have to find a way around this. Even if she agreed to work without pay, the expenses of the experiment, the anesthetic we use to keep the subject unconscious– we’d run out of resources eventually. 

This can’t end so soon. I was given no warning, how was I supposed to know? I never ask for anything, only this, for this experiment, and they cut it off! They’re trying to get me to resign from the experiment, I’m sure of it. Why? I’m only doing what needs to be done. I gave her a purpose! RT465 would be nothing if not for this experiment. She’d thank me if she could speak right now.

I gave this place my whole life. That couldn’t have been a mistake. I can still turn this around, I just need time. Can’t waste it writing nonsense – back to work. + Removed ¾ of the heart and brain, the liver and the right kidney.

15. 5.

Busy day. I’m gathering the results of this experiment up in a ‘neat pile’ to present to my superiors. If they see what’s come of this, they’ll let it continue. They’ll see that this isn’t for nothing.

16. 5. Busy day. There’s going to be a lot of those from now on. I’m going to sleep here full time from now on, too. I have to give this everything I’ve got. Removed the brain fully.

17. 5. Busy day.

18. 5. Busy day. Removed the liver.

18. 5. Busy day. I hope I don’t have to take my assistant’s raise away. She really does deserve it. If only she had been here with me from the start… Removed ½ of the heart. RT465 is struggling, but it’ll have to manage if it wants to be of any help.

19. 5.

Busy day. My assistant’s day off is tomorrow.

20. 5. My superiors are arguing that all that I’ve learned from this experiment could have been deduced from previous experiments; They don’t know shit. They’re not here. They haven’t seen that red clump in RT465’s chest, the cluster of fat, water, salts, and carbohydrates in its skull – they haven’t even looked at the photos I took for them! “Could have been deduced from previous experiments,” They’re not the ones getting their hands dirty. They haven’t stepped foot in this room, haven’t slept in it, haven’t done anything other than whine about the budget. They should be ashamed to call themselves employees of the institute. “Could have been deduced,” but we never would have known for certain. I’m doing us a favor.

Removed the brain and ¾ of the heart.

21. 5. Busy day. The assistant isn’t here today.

22. 5. My assistant is back, but it’s still a busy day. I’m tired. I've been sleeping only 3 hours a day at most, and only 20 minutes at one time. I’m looking forward to my week off after the experiment ends.

23. 5. Busy day. Removed the brain, ½ of the heart, the left lung, and ½ of the right lung. 24. 5. Busy day. I have to take away my assistant’s raise… I can tell she disapproves, as she’s been slacking off today. It’s fine as long as she doesn’t quit.

25. 5. Busy day.

26. 5. Busy day. My assistant’s day off is tomorrow. She was missing today, too. Didn’t even call in. Terrible work ethic. She’s just like my previous assistant, leaving me in my time of need, abandoning the institute… Can’t write more, work calls. Removed the heart.

27. 5. I’m not getting more funding. I’d have gotten it already were my superiors planning to listen to reason… but here I am, with a subject that refuses to die, with no way to kill it.

I should have known it’d end up like this. Like a fool, I was hoping for this experiment to last at least 4 months, but I took things too slow. Took too much time with things. Work comes first, pleasure second. I was stupid to mix the two…

When was the last time I enjoyed something? It’d be– Ostrov is nice, but he’ll leave eventually. He’ll realize our morals don’t align, and like the good man he is, he’ll leave me for somebody that’s better fit for him. Or I’ll take him down with me. Either way, we won’t last… I like game nights with Viktor, too, I suppose. Even if he is an insufferable winner. I enjoy these experiments too, but outside of work, what else? Is that all my life is? Two relationships that won’t last and work? 

There must be something else. I must be missing something. This can’t be all that my life is.

Removed the brain.

28. 5. My assistant isn’t here again, but at least she called in to tell me she’s resigning from the experiment. I don’t know what I expected. At least now any doubt that this experiment is over has vanished. I don’t know how I should feel. Angry? Sad? Guilty? Relief, maybe? I don’t know. I put so much into this, only for it to come crashing down. Not even two months, and yet… There’s no reason to write these entries now. I started this journal because I wanted to keep track of Dr. Ostrov’s and Ms Schuhart’s reactions, for future reference, but now that I’m the only one here, there’s no reason to hide my apathy. Not like I was doing a good job at that, anyway.

I don’t know what I’ll do now. I can squeeze out another week from this experiment, but what would be the point? RT465 is – nothing. She can’t give me anything she hasn’t already. The only thing that I could do now is–

One last attempt. If she survives this, I’ll definitely get more funding for the experiment. If she doesn’t, then she’ll be successfully terminated, and I’ll have done my job right. It’ll be over either way. The point of this whole thing was to push her limits, anyway, so it’s not like I’m acting out of order. 

If I get more funding, I’ll continue writing here. If I don’t – I’ll never look at this journal again. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll survive this. Even if it takes her a week, a month, a year to grow back together, I know she will. Whether my superiors allow her to survive is out of my hands. I’ve done nothing wrong.

Removed all of RT465’s organs.

[sergeantsporks]

Gilded Family

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 38.5/39: Closure

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17,  Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33, Ch 34, Ch 35, Ch 36, Ch 37, Ch 38

An alternate universe in which Evelyn managed to save Caleb after his confrontation with Phillip. The two of them escaped to present day through time pools, and have been using time pools to secretly rescue grimwalkers just after Belos attempts to kill them. The story follows Darius' mentor as he adjusts to his new life, as well as changes to the course of canon.

Ao3

“You’ve been putting weight on this fracture.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re going to stop doing that.”

“Got it.”

The healer—Phoenix hadn’t caught their name—shook their head. “I mean it. It won’t heal, and you could make it worse—it looks like you broke it two different ways and then used a slitherbeast’s bite to wrench it back into place.”

Phoenix winced. That would be the Collector’s attempt to ‘fix’ the break. “Sorry.”

“And—look, this may be none of my business, but there’s a weird block-up of excess magic in your arms; you might want to consider seeing a specialist. And an apothecary.”

“Yep. Aware of it. Okay. Thanks.”

The healer picked up the remains of Viney’s cast, examining the crack from Belos’ kick with a whistle. “What have you been up to?

“Eh. You know. The apocalypse.”

The whole family had made a pact not to mention Belos to anyone outside of the family or Darius for now—as far as anyone else was concerned, Luz had killed Belos, and that was that. Phoenix was almost certain that there would be ‘Belos’ sightings across the isles for some time, and he didn’t intend on adding any credibility to the notion that Belos could have escaped Luz.

“Haven’t we all. Well, nothing life-threatening. You’re cleared. See a healer again in a week for that ankle and to check the concussion, use the crutches, take it easy.”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. You’re welcome”

Another healer shot into the room, breathing heavily. “You get to do the one next door.”

“What? I thought you were taking care of him?”

“Not anymore. I like living too much.”

“Well, that sounds promising.”

Phoenix followed the healer out of the room, swinging on a new set of crutches. The moment the healer opened the next door, an abomination-themed paperweight came sailing out, nearly beaning them on the head.

“Stay away,” Petro wheezed, “I’ll kill you.”

“They’re here to help,” Phoenix told him, “They’re not going to hurt you.”

“Like I trust you either.”

“Friendly, isn’t he?” the healer commented dryly.

“Very. Petro, I didn’t drag you all the way here just to kill you now. They’re just a healer.”

“Coven healer?”

“Does it matter anymore?”

“It matters,” Petro wheezed through gritted teeth, “because which they are determines whether or not they might have motive to kill me.” He thought about it for a moment. “I’m not sure which kind would be more likely.”

“I don’t even know who you are?” The healer pushed into the room, holding their hands up in surrender. “Look. You’re in bad shape. I can either heal you now, while you’re conscious and can keep an eye on me, or I can wait until you pass out anyway and you won’t have any knowledge of what I’m up to. So which is it going to be?”

Petro glared, but didn’t throw anything else and let the healer get close enough to begin their magic. Phoenix heaved a sigh of relief and wandered back down the hall. Darius poked halfway out of a closet, pulling out blankets and towels, but he straightened up when Phoenix approached.

“Ah. Hello. I see the healers got to you.”

“They did.”

“How are you feeling? It seems like you look worse every time I see you.”

Phoenix shrugged. “I’ll survive. Look, Darius—I owe you an explanation. Besides disappearing on you, about what just happened—”

“Well—perhaps it can wait until tomorrow morning. I’m sure you need your rest, and we should get your quite extensive family settled in, of course, and—”

“Darius, are you avoiding me?”

Darius chuckled nervously. “What? Of course I’m not. I haven’t been looking for answers for thirty years just to avoid them now.”

“Are you sure?” Phoenix pressed, “I mean, you didn’t seem too concerned when I ran off after Jason—”

“You seemed distressed, I didn’t want to keep you in such a state—”

“—and now you won’t let me tell you what happened again,” Phoenix continued over him, “Are you avoiding me?”

Darius had always been bad at lying to him. A stellar actor most of the time, but absolutely horrendous when it came to fooling Phoenix. That was one thing that hadn’t changed over the years. It almost made Phoenix laugh—a grown man now twenty years his senior studiously avoiding his eyes like he was still a teenager.

“I’m not avoiding you. But are you sure you’re ready to tell me?”

“I’ve only been thinking of a way to do it for…” Phoenix tried to tally up how long it had been since he’d woken up in this time, then gave up. “…a while. Darius, I know you’re not avoiding it for my sake."

"I just think right now isn’t a good time.” Darius finished pulling blankets out of the closet and shut the door abruptly. “Tomorrow.”

“And what if something new comes up tomorrow? Darius, I’ve put this off for so long, I want to—”

“If you’ve been putting it off for so long, then it can wait another day. Hunter—” Darius locked up, inhaled, and released his breath in one long sigh. “Phoenix. Can we just leave it?”

“Are you scared it won’t be good enough?”

The words escaped Phoenix before he could really think it through, and the simple question made Darius freeze again.

“Excuse me?”

“This whole time—Darius, I’ve been worried that any apology, any explanation I could give wouldn’t be good enough. I was scared that you’d hear what I had to say and decide it wasn’t any excuse for not contacting you. That you’d hate me for it. But that… it works both ways, doesn’t it?” Phoenix took a deep breath. “You’ve spent years wondering where I’d gone, wondering what happened to me. And now I’ve showed up again out of the blue. Are you… are you scared that when I tell you what happened… it’ll feel like I just didn’t care enough? That it will feel like there was no real reason for me to not contact you, and I just didn’t want to?”

Darius chuckled hollowly. “Well, what am I supposed to say to that, hm?” He shook his head. “You’ve changed, Phoenix. The name, the scars—that’s nothing. There was a time when you would have had your tongue ripped out before you’d disclose all that to me; the Phoenix I knew took a day of coaxing before he’d ever begin admit something was wrong. But then—I guess you weren’t really Phoenix then, were you?”

“No,” Phoenix agreed, “I wasn’t.”

“What if we’ve changed too much?” Darius gave Phoenix a small, sad half-smile. “That explanation might be the only thing left between us—the last thing we say to each other before we find closure and move on in our new lives. Perhaps it’ll be good enough. Perhaps it won’t. Perhaps it won’t matter how good or bad it is because either way, we’ll simply drift apart.”

Dread settled in Phoenix’s stomach. Of course that was always a possibility—but it wasn’t one he wanted to accept. “Maybe.” Phoenix searched for the right words to say, allowing a heavy silence to creep between them. “Maybe,” he said again finally, “You’re right. That might happen. But even if it does, even if we drift apart… Darius, I will never stop caring about you. And I don’t think you’ll stop caring about me, either.”

“Never.” Darius took a deep breath. “I’m ready,” he said abruptly, “I want to know—and I want to know all of it.”

“To the last thing left unfinished between us,” Phoenix agreed. He cleared his throat, trying to decide the best place to begin. “When I disappeared—well, it actually started weeks before, when I found some old records concerning the fates of previous golden guards…”

Xxx

You were always going to fail them, too.

Phoenix snapped awake, the vestiges of a fuzzy nightmare still making his heart work overtime. He stared up at the ceiling, surrounded by the snores of other grimwalkers. It was just a dream.

He tried to rub his eyes, but his arms wouldn’t move, dissolved into a mess of mud that would stain the blankets if he let it.

“It’s okay,” he whispered to the darkness, “We’re okay.”

In time with his slowing heartbeat, his arms settled back to their normal state, and he rolled out of his blankets, snatching up his crutches and quietly hobbling out into the hallway. His joints ached. His bones felt stretched and thin inside of him.

But at least they were his.

He wandered into the kitchen. Jason sat at the table, staring blankly at his hands, but he looked up when Phoenix dropped into the seat next to him.

“It’s over,” Jason whispered, “It’s really, really over this time.”

“He’s gone,” Phoenix agreed.

Jason trembled and fell into Phoenix, burying his face in Phoenix’s shoulder. “It’s over,” he repeated, “It’s over, it’s over it’s over.”

Phoenix gripped him tightly, holding him close. “We’re safe now. He can’t hurt us anymore.”

“He’s finally gone,” Jason whispered, “We’re finally—he’s finally—it’s over.” He pulled back, eyes shining. “I don’t have to go with him. I don’t have to talk to him again, I don’t have to…”

“Never again, thanks to you and Mole.”

“Well—hey, you were part of it, too.”

Phoenix looked away, guilt bubbling up in his stomach. “I didn’t do anything.” His hands curled into shaking fists. “I tried. I really did, but I couldn’t beat him. He still got the better of me. After everything—the curse, getting out of his hold… I was still useless.”

“You saved Hunter’s life,” Jason said quietly, “I don’t think that’s useless.”

“I couldn’t stop him.” Phoenix’s hands opened and closed helplessly. “I was so close, Jason, but I still couldn’t…”

“Hey.” Jason tilted his head, ducking down so that he was looking Phoenix in the eye. “You fought fair. Belos didn’t—that kick was a dirty move. You would have won in a straight fight.”

“It was never going to be a straightforward fight with Belos,” Phoenix replied bitterly, “I should have known that. I shouldn’t have tried to fight like it would be.”

“What, and stoop to his level? I’m glad you didn’t.” Jason’s hand closed over his own. “Phoenix. Hey. Mole and I wouldn’t have been able to get into position without your attack. Hunter kept everyone from getting hurt when the glyphs stopped working. The others made sure Belos didn’t possess Petro again so you could face him head on. And without Petro, we wouldn’t have been able to trick Belos and get Mom and everybody free. This only worked because we all played a part—so what if you didn’t beat him all on your own? Neither did any of the others, and they attacked him all at once with a bunch of glyphs! I mean, hey, you went after Belos all by yourself, and you made it out with nothing but a concussion? Pretty good considering the results of our past attempts.”

A smile worked its way onto Phoenix’s face, disappearing just as quickly. “I guess.”

“He can’t hurt us again. That’s all that really matters—we don’t need to worry about who did what, or who helped the most.”

“I know, I know,” Phoenix grumbled, “You’re right.”

“Of course I am. I’m always right.” Jason gave him a cheeky grin. “Forget about him. He ruled enough of our lives—I don’t want to think about him a second longer than I have to. How did things go with Darius?”

And just like that, any sense of calm Jason’s reassurances had brought melted right back into a seething pit of anxiety. “Fine, I think? I mean… he seemed to understand what happened and why I couldn’t get back in touch with him.”

“But?” Jason prompted.

“But…” Phoenix took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Do you think he’s angry I didn’t tell him when Belos surfaced again? I mean, I’d just promised to tell him everything, and then I hid an incredibly big and dangerous thing—even though I had a reason, that’s got to sting. I’d be mad at me.”

“You could always ask,” Jason suggested, “Can’t hurt.”

“Hm.” Maybe, but if what Darius had said earlier—about how Phoenix had used to keep everything close to his chest, hiding it from Darius—had been true then, the opposite was true now. Phoenix was almost certain that if he did ask, Darius would just wave off the question.

“Is that all that’s eating you?”

“Well, that and the flesh-dissolving mud curse.”

Jason chuckled. “Right. That. Should you be up and around? Sam told me you should rest more.”

“That traitor.”

Jason pushed his shoulder. “You should say thank you. Now there’s one more person who knows what you need.”

“You need to not be in my kitchen at one AM, that’s for certain.”

Phoenix jumped, nearly falling out of his chair. Darius stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Even in the dim lighting, Phoenix could see the bloodshot red of his eyes. “Sorry. Did we wake you?” And how much did you hear?

Darius shrugged, an easy, fluid movement that didn’t quite seem to match that look in his eyes. “I was checking in, making sure Evelyn and Caleb were alright, and everyone was settled alright, and… you were gone.”

A hint of accusation laced his tone, and Phoenix flinched. “Sorry,” he said again, “I just… couldn’t sleep. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He wiggled his hands in the air. “Still here! Haven’t vanished off the face of the earth again!”

Jason winced, and made a small ‘whoof’ noise next to him while Darius’ smile got a little more forced. Phoenix’s hands dropped to his lap. “Sorry. Too soon.”

“A bit so, yes. Do you need something to aid your sleep? A potion, perhaps, or—”

“I’m alright, Darius. Thank you.”

Before his disappearance, it had been easy to fall into silence with Darius. Once there was nothing left to say, they’d just share a comfortable, nearby existence. But now, the quiet loomed between them, painfully, awkwardly huge.

Jason cleared his throat. “Well, I’m gonna go check on Mom and Dad and then go back to bed. See you in the morning.” He patted Phoenix’s shoulder and disappeared, along with any hope Phoenix might have had that Jason would know the right thing to say to Darius.

“So. The curse.” Darius waved a hand in the air. “You said it drains energy, drains magic… so does Edalyn’s. You could try her elixirs. See if it works out for you.”

Nothing Phoenix hadn’t thought of, but the suggestion coming from someone else did somehow make it feel more plausible. “Yeah. Yeah, that might work.”

“And if the elixirs help…” Darius took a deep breath. “It doesn’t seem all too different from my abomination magic, at least not in general form. I could… give you some tips on controlling it.”

Phoenix turned the idea over in his mind, a laugh building in the back of his throat, and bursting out uncontrollably. Darius blinked slowly, managing to look exactly like an offended cat.

“You could have just said no if you think it’s that ridiculous.”

“No—no, it’s not that, I just… well, you know. I used to be the one teaching you magic. I know things have changed between us, but I wasn’t expecting a complete reversal.”

Darius chuckled. “It is a bit strange when you put it like that.” He braced one elbow on the tabletop, resting his face on his hand. “Now I’m the teacher. I’m sentencing you to ten years of dish-washing for running off to fight Belos without me.”

“Which time?”

“Oh. Yes, I suppose you did do it more than once. Twenty years, then.”

Phoenix snorted. “In your dreams.” He leaned his elbows on the table to match Darius, rubbing his aching joints. “I’d like that, though.”

“What, washing the dishes?”

“No, no. For you to teach me how to work with this, make it into something helpful. And to just… spend time together exploring new magic like we used to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d like it a lot.”

Xxx

“Hunter! Jason!”

Luz cannoned into the two of them at the speed of light, closely followed by Willow and Gus. Phoenix laughed watching the two of them go down, but then King slammed into his legs, Collector flew into his chest, and he stared at the ceiling of Darius’ house, half wondering how he’d gotten on the floor.

“Phoenix!”

“Oof. Oh, we brought everyone. Hey!”

“Everyone but Eda and Raine,” King remarked, suggestively wiggling the bony arches that Phoenix was pretty sure passed for eyebrows up and down.

“And Camila,” Collector added helpfully.

Grimwalkers shuffled away from Collector, eying them nervously. Cherry’s hands twitched, like he might like to yank them away from Phoenix, and Darius’ eyes narrowed into little slits, his hand turning into an abomination knife.

Phoenix waved one hand at him. “It’s okay! They’re good, it’s fine.”

The others didn’t exactly crowd around to meet him, but they didn’t protest the Collector being there either. Luz pulled back from her attack on Hunter and Jason, eyes brimming with concern. “I am so, so, so, so, so, so sorry! I thought we finished him off, I thought—”

“Hey, whoa, it’s not your fault!” Jason protested, “You did amazing.”

“You were a puppet,” Hunter reminded him, “You missed the whole thing. But yeah, Luz. Don’t blame yourself. He’s… really good at squeezing out of tricky situations. You took a lot out of him—and whether you killed him or not, you definitely saved the isles from him.”

“He’s actually dead this time, right?” King asked Phoenix, “We’re sure?”

“Positive,” Phoenix confirmed, “Mole petrified him.”

“Good.” King nudged Collector. “Hey—remember—”

“I remember.” Collector floated up into the air, clearing his throat. “Hey, everybody. I’m Collector. I know I sort of… scared you before, but I’m really, really sorry for destroying your house. I can fix it, if you want? And… I’d like to be friends. No more house-destroying or puppeting. Pinky promise.”

For a long moment, no one said anything, just glanced at each other and the Collector. Finally, A.T. stepped forward, linking his pinky with Collector’s. “Hey, Collector. I’m A.T. and probably the expert around here on having friends. Everyone else seems to lack the experience.”

Protests and boos rose out of other grimwalkers, breaking the tense silence. A.T. just grinned, unfazed by their jeers. “We’re gonna get along great.”

Phoenix sighed in relief. He doubted anyone would actually be comfortable around Collector, not for a while. But at least open hostility had been cleared off the table.

“What’s going on in here?”

Everyone’s head snapped to the other side of the room, the Collector completely forgotten as Caleb made his way from the hallway, one hand on the wall for support. His face still hadn’t regained all its color, and he leaned heavily on the wall, but his smile was still the same big beam it had always been.

“Dad!”

Like a tidal wave, every grimwalker in the room shifted towards him at once, all of them babbling over with a thousand ‘are you alright’s and ‘you scared us’s. Cherry, ever the solid rock, got to him first, anxiously hovering inches away.

“You shouldn’t have tried to trade yourself for us,” he told Caleb.

A hush fell over the grimwalkers. Phoenix felt queasy, even knowing that Caleb would hear them out without losing his temper. It needed to be said. But part of him was glad Cherry was the one saying it.

“I couldn’t lose you. Any of you.”

“You almost lost all of us,” Cherry countered, “Offering to go to the human realm? You would have never seen any of us again! And we would have lost you!”

“I mean, I can make a portal to the human realm,” Collector announced chipperly, “You could have found each other again.”

King drew one paw back and forth across his throat, and the Collector made a small ‘ah’ noise, miming zipping up their lips.

“I just wanted to protect you.”

“You did something dumb and self-sacrificial,” Sam piped up, “If any of us had offered that trade, we’d get a nice long talk about how our lives have value on their own and we shouldn’t give up everything like that. You’d tell us there’s always another way.”

“I mean, Jason did try it,” Venari offered, “You’re okay with that?”

Caleb’s attention snapped over to him. “You did what?”

“This is what they’re talking about, Dad,” Jason said, fondly exasperated, “Your life isn’t worth any less than ours. You think we should live our lives free of Belos?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then the same should be true for you.”

A.T. nodded fiercely. “We’re not the only ones he hurt—you shouldn’t be stuck with him any more than we or anyone else should.”

“But I’m the one who—”

“You made mistakes,” Cherry cut in, “No one is denying that. You were unconscious, but Jason told Belos he needed to stop punishing you for what happened. And Belos isn’t the only one; you have to stop punishing yourself.” He twisted his hands. “It’s something we all have to work on.”

Silver raised a hand. “We would have been devastated if he’d taken you,” they told Caleb, “Please—don’t do something like that again.”

Caleb’s eyes welled up. “Okay,” he mumbled thickly, “Okay, I promise.” His hand hovered over his chest where bandages bulged against his shirt. “Is… are you all okay? I mean, that spell, the wound—”

Dagger waved a hand. “Sure, it hurt, but you think we can’t handle it?”

“Losing you and Mom would have hurt worse,” Jason told him. “Speaking of Mom…”

“Alive and well,” Evelyn commented from the kitchen. She waved from the table. “Hey. I went the other way ‘round.” She jabbed one finger at Caleb. “They’re right, by the way, mister. Pull a stunt like that again, and I’ll… well, I don’t have a good threat ready at the moment, but you won’t like it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” One of Caleb’s eyebrows arched up. “Although I seem to recall someone else going off alone to make deals with Phillip.”

“I was going on a rescue mission that I was pretty sure I could handle and turned out to be wrong about,” she corrected, “Not the same thing. But fine, of course, next time our kids get kidnapped by someone who has it out for specifically us and I track them down to their lair, I’ll come get you. Happy?”

Caleb smiled at her, a small, sad imitation of his usual smile. “Ecstatic.” He turned towards the Collector. “I’m—”

“The original! The first Caleb! Wow, Phillip would not stop talking about you.” Collector hopped up into the air, sitting cross-legged. “I almost feel like I know you, even though we’ve never met. Isn’t that weird?”

Caleb winced. “Well… I don’t know what stories Phillip told you, but I think I’d like it if you knew the real me. And… I’d like to know the real you. But, um. Before we get to know each other… does your offer of a portal door still stand?”

Xxx

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Phoenix looked up from the pile of books Jason had rescued from the rubble of the house—he, Mole, Joseph, and Cherry had been going back and forth between their destroyed home and Darius’ house, ferrying mostly-intact personal belongings to their owners. Phoenix had stayed behind where he could sit (at just about everyone’s insistence), sorting through what they’d brought and picking out what was still salvageable. But at Evelyn’s snappish tone, he wobbled to his feet and swung his way to the kitchen. Caleb stood with Collector and Petro, holding a bag that looked suspiciously like it was filled with crumbled pieces of stone.

Evelyn stood in the doorway, blocking their path. Brave of her, Phoenix thought vaguely, considering how Collector had flicked her shields aside like they were nothing last time. “You can’t be serious. After everything he did?”

“I’m not doing it for Belos,” Caleb said quietly, “I’m doing it for me. And for him.”

Caleb nodded to Petro behind him, uncharacteristically quiet and melancholy. Half-healed bruises and cuts still mottled his face, but his breathing came normally now instead of in those awful shudders. The moment he noticed Phoenix looking at him, he scowled, glaring daggers.

Evelyn crossed her arms. “He doesn’t deserve the kindness. He would have desecrated your grave a thousand times to make more grimwalkers.”

“But I’m not him. I need to bury what’s left, Evelyn—I’m not going to feel at peace until I do. Please.”

Evelyn sighed. “Are you really going to take him to the human realm?”

“Do you think anyone wants what’s left of him here?”

“I suppose not,” Evelyn admitted.

“You don’t have to come with me, Evelyn. In fact, I think it would probably just upset you. Just let me do this, okay?”

“Alright. Alright, but be careful.” She tilted her head at Petro, lowering her voice. “Do you actually trust him?”

“No,” Caleb said simply, “Not yet. But I don’t think he’ll try anything for now.”

Evelyn ‘hm’ed unhappily, but moved out of the way. The three walked—or floated, in Collector’s case—out the door, heading to the outskirts of Bonesborough. After a moment of hesitation, Phoenix followed. Maybe Caleb thought everything would be fine, but Phoenix was almost certain something would go wrong. He wasn’t willing to leave it to chance, especially after what everyone had said this morning.

Phoenix quickly fell behind—even with the injuries Petro and Caleb had sustained, they still walked faster than he could hobble on his crutches. After about twenty agonizing minutes, Collector swooped through the sky over him.

“Hiya, Phoenix,” they chirped, “Did you want to come along? Caleb and Hunter already made it to the human realm, but I can catch you up real fast.”

“Yes, please,” Phoenix panted. A star formed underneath him, and Collector sat next to him. They stayed low to the ground, but the star moved quickly, zipping through the streets of Bonesborough.

Collector fidgeted, tapping his fingers against each other. “Are we going to be okay?” they finally asked in a small voice.

“What?”

“You’re not still—are you mad at me?”

Phoenix hissed out a long breath. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I don’t know.” Collector rested his chin on his knees. “Were you going to take King away forever?”

“I think I was.” Phoenix heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. And I’m sorry for trying to make you disappear. And for destroying your house. And—” Their voice wobbled, and tears welled up in their eyes. “And putting you in the nightmare. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“I don’t want to, either.” Phoenix scratched absently at his arms where the wounds from Belos used to be. “I don’t think I ever did. I was just… scared.”

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

“I was going to come back the first time. I really was. I mean—I was going to take King, but I would have come back.”

“I believe you now.”

Phoenix took a deep breath. “We both hurt each other. And I can’t promise that we won’t accidentally hurt each other again.”

“So… you’re saying we shouldn’t be friends?”

“No! No, it’s just a risk we have to take. You can’t be friends with people without… opening up the possibility of getting hurt. But that’s okay. And I think we’re going to be okay.”

“Okay.” Collector pulled the star to a stop in front of the owl house. “I hope so.”

“I know so.” Phoenix hopped off the star. “I’ll be back soon.”

The door shimmered in front of him, a wall of light too bright to look past into the other realm.

The human realm.

Phoenix slowly swung over the threshold. It didn’t feel any different to be in the human realm. He’d assumed he’d be able to tell when he crossed over, like all the magic would be sucked out of the world, but it just seemed… normal here. The house that held the door was a bit dilapidated, sure, and a recent-looking hole gaped in the floorboards, but nothing seemed terribly wrong with the place. He could easily imagine Jason curled up on that old couch reading, or Hunter pacing the floor.

Low murmurs rose up from beneath him, and Phoenix slowly thumped down a creaky staircase. Each step involved a lengthy back-and-forth with his crutches, but he made it to the bottom, where Petro and Caleb stood in front of a gaping hole in the ground. They slowly lowered what was left of Belos into the grave and covered the stone back up with dirt. Phoenix hobbled closer, but stayed far enough back that he wouldn’t be intruding.

“Would you… like to say something?” Caleb asked Petro.

Petro gave a short nod. “Bye, old man,” he said abruptly, “You gave me the best parts of my life, and I’ll never forget everything you did for me. Rot in hell. I’ll probably meet you there.” He gave the grave a snappy salute, then spit on it and stepped back.

“That was… nice?”

Petro acknowledged Caleb’s statement with a curt nod. “Your turn.”

Caleb took a deep breath. “I guess this is it,” he said slowly, “I wish we could have done something different—but I’m glad I landed where I did. I’m going to do better. With the grimwalkers you made, I mean. I won’t run away this time. No matter what, I’ll stick with them, and make sure they never feel abandoned and alone again.” He sighed. “I know Belos probably wouldn’t care. But… I hope whatever’s left of the lonely kid who was scared of me leaving would like that. Goodbye, Pip. I won’t forget you.” He glanced up, noticing Phoenix for the first time. “Oh! Did you come to…”

“I came to check on you.” Phoenix shrugged. “I don’t have anything to say.”

“No, I wouldn’t think so.” Caleb heaved a deep sigh. “Is it wrong that I don’t feel sad?”

“Why did you bury him at all, then?”

Caleb shook his head. “I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right, leaving him there. I know he did a lot wrong, but... I wanted to bring him back home.” He chuckled dryly. “I guess he got what he wanted in the end, didn’t he? Me and him, back in the human realm.”

“That wasn’t all he wanted,” Phoenix said softly, “You know that.”

“Yeah. I do. It’s just…”

“Complicated?”

“Always is.” Caleb bounced on the balls of his feet, staring up at the low ceiling. “Could you give me a minute?”

“Yeah.” Phoenix looked around, but Petro was nowhere in sight—Phoenix swore under his breath and hopped back towards the stairs, tucking his crutches under his arm and leaning against the wall for balance instead while he made his way up. The door to the house swung wide open, and Phoenix hobbled outdoors. There would be no catching up with Petro if he’d run, he knew, but the glint of ruined gold armor shone from down the path, at the edge of the trees.

Petro stood just within the treeline, watching the human realm with hungry, cautious eyes. Phoenix stopped short next to him, huffing for breath.

“Thinking of running?” he asked.

Petro snorted. “Think you could stop me?”

“Probably not,” Phoenix admitted, “Hey—Caleb trusted you wouldn’t try anything.”

“If I was ‘trying anything’ you and Caleb would be joining the emperor in his grave. This isn’t ‘trying anything.’ This is just leaving.”

“Leaving?” Phoenix echoed, “Why?”

“Why would I stay?” Petro countered, “There’s nothing left in the Isles for me. I’ve done enough damage there, I think.”

“You don’t have to go,” Phoenix said quietly, “You could try to fix things, make up for what you’ve done. That’s what I’m doing.”

“We’ve already established that you’re a better person than me, little bird. Besides, I can’t stay. No one there trusts me, and if they did, they’d have to be brain-dead.” A wry smile pulled across his face. “It’s like Cherry said, isn’t it? You’re glad I’m changing, but that doesn’t mean you want me around while I do. The Isles are too small, and too full of people who know me. Here?” He swept one arm out. “It’s huge here. I could walk for miles and not leave this city. It’s the kind of place I can change—if I want to. I could get far away from everything, truly far away.”

“You can’t get away from yourself.”

Petro looked around, feigning surprise. “No, really? And here I thought that I would just leave my skin behind and walk on a new man who’s never done anything wrong in his life!”

“You know what I mean.”

“Look, are you going to try to stop me, or what? Because if you do…”

“You’ll kill me? I thought you were planning that anyway.”

Petro snorted. “Maybe I’ll take a visit to the Isles in a few years to give it another shot.”

Phoenix reached into his pocket, his hand closing around the extra concealment stone he’d taken for Ash what seemed like a lifetime ago. “Here.” He held out the stone. “This will help you blend in here, keep people from asking too many questions.”

Petro eyed the necklace. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” Phoenix nodded to the stone. “I think you’re right. I think if you’re going to change, you need to leave the demon realm, at least for a little bit. Get some distance from everything.” He stared Petro in the eye. “If you aren’t going to cause havoc here. I mean it, don’t hurt anyone.”

“I have no reason to. No one’s going to get hurt—I’m not trying to run an empire here, sheesh.” Petro held out an open palm. “Am I getting the stone and starting over or not?”

Phoenix slowly lowered it into his hand. “This doesn’t make everything you did okay, you know that, right? But… maybe here you can become the kind of person who makes up for it.”

“Hm. Maybe. We’ll see how it goes.” Petro’s hand closed over the pendant, but Phoenix didn’t let go of the string just yet.

“Do you remember her? Victoria, I mean.”

Petro blinked. “Who?”

“The girl who stopped you when you tried to kill me. Do you remember her?”

“Ah, so that was her name. Of course I remember her,” Petro said easily, far more easily than Phoenix expected.

“Wha—you do?”

“I remember every kill.” Now Petro was the one staring Phoenix down, uncomfortably level for the topic. “When I tracked down the witches who killed my guardian, they didn’t remember who she was. I swore I’d never be that careless. I knew that if someone came to me, like you are now, and asked if I remembered who I killed, I would be able to say yes. Even if I was adding them to the list, they should know I’d remember.”

If it weren’t for the prerequisite of killing someone, the statement almost would have sounded… noble. Phoenix let go of the string, and Petro slipped the stone over his head. He rippled, shifting and changing. His ears rounded out, and his armor turned into a T-shirt and jeans. He still looked like Petro—the scars didn’t disappear, nor did the dangerous glint in his eyes. But something about him almost seemed... peaceful.

Phoenix stepped back towards the house, towards the demon realm. “Good luck,” he said softly.

Petro gave him a short nod, and stepped out of the trees, into the human realm. Phoenix watched him until he disappeared from view, then slowly hobbled back into the house at the end of the path. Caleb emerged from the basement, looking around. “Where’s Petro?”

“Gone.”

Caleb eyed him. “You don’t seem too concerned about it.”

“I think he’ll be fine. And I don’t think he’ll try killing me again for a while. Give it a few years.”

“Hm.” Caleb glanced down the path, worry creasing his face. Phoenix bumped his shoulder.

“I don’t think he needs the kind of help you and Evelyn can give. He just… needs to be on his own for a bit.”

Caleb sighed. “You knew him best, or at least as best as any of us could.” He closed the door to the house. “You ready to go home?”

“Ready.”

They stepped through the portal together, leaving the human realm, and Belos, behind. Eda and Lilith waited just outside the door, Collector nowhere in sight. Caleb froze, but Eda and Lilith didn’t seem to notice, crowding around Phoenix instead. Eda lightly punched him in the shoulder. “Look who’s back! Darius tells me you’re looking into elixirs, huh? Well, for a good price, I can—”

“We’ll share,” Lilith interrupted, elbowing her sister, “Glad you’re safe, sir.”

“Please don’t call me that, Lilith. Just Phoenix.”

“Right.”

“Ah—hello.” The bard witch from the keep smiled awkwardly at Phoenix. New scars streaked their face like tears, but at least they were still alive. “It’s nice to meet you properly. I’m Raine.”

“Phoenix. Sorry about…” Phoenix gestured to his face. “I wish I could have done something.”

“And I wish I’d been able to keep Belos from taking over the titan, but here we are. Don’t worry about it. Eda tells me you’re the previous golden guard.” They tilted their head at Caleb. “And this is…”

“One of the other ones?” Eda guessed, “Luz told us all about your secret little grimwalker group.”

“Ah. No.” Caleb scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly avoiding their eyes. “I’m… the original one…”

He still hasn’t figured out how to word it, Phoenix thought. For some reason, the familiar stumble made him want to laugh.

Lilith gestured to Caleb’s ears, delighted. “Oh! I see! You must have been here before Belos, that’s fascinating. You’ll have to tell me what the Isles were like—of course, I did see a bit of the Deadwardian Era myself through a time pool, but a first-hand account—and the rest of your family, such a rich depository of history, absolutely incredible.”

Caleb smiled warmly. “I’d be happy to talk with you. Evelyn and I both.”

“Evelyn, hah!” Eda grinned. “What a coincidence, that name’s run in our family for a while!”

“Huh,” Caleb said lightly, “How funny.” He cleared his throat. “It was nice to meet you two—I hope we can get to know each other better.”

He swiftly exited the house before Phoenix could say anything.

“Huh. Bit jumpy, isn’t he?” Eda tossed Phoenix a couple of glowing gold potion bottles that he fumbled to catch with his crutches. “Tell us how that works out, okay? Now that Lilth’s got the basic recipe down, we can mess with it until it’s right for you. Best to down it all at once, by the way. And don’t let it sit in your mouth for longer than you have to. Doesn’t affect the magic or anything, you just want to drink it before you can taste it.”

“You’re not in this alone,” Lilith cut in, “Curses can be tricky, but there are ways to manage them, and they’re easier if you have a support system.”

Phoenix’s chest glowed warmly at the reminder. “I think I’m figuring that out. Thank you.” He raised the elixir bottle like a toast. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“Any idea what you’re going to do now that you don’t have to hide anymore?” Lilith asked.

“I didn’t really think I’d make it this far,” Phoenix admitted, “We’re going to fix up our home, but after that… I’ve got no clue.”

Eda grinned. “Well, I’ve got a little something-something cooking up on the back burner. Now that Belos is gone, and the covens are being dismantled, people are going to need someone to teach them how to be a real wild witch. How’d you like to get in on the teaching action?”

Phoenix flushed. “Oh. I don’t know, I don’t think that would… I’m not exactly… I mean, I wouldn’t even know what a school is supposed to look like, let alone how to be a part of one.”

“That makes you perfect for the job. You think I want a bunch of rule-following book-stuffy teachers at a school for wild magic?” Eda snorted. “As if. No thanks. But from the way Darius was always ‘my mentor’ this and ‘my mentor’ that, I imagine you’re a preeeetty good teacher when you have a mind to be. Or at least a good counselor or something.” She smacked his back. “Think about it, alright? We’ll see if this idea even takes off, but I’ve got a sneaking suspicion it’s going to catch like honeybees on fire.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks, Eda.”

Caleb waited for him outside, but started walking the moment Phoenix closed the door behind him. He kept his pace slow, hanging back with Phoenix’s hobble.

“Why didn’t you let them know they’re your descendants?” Phoenix asked.

Caleb chuckled humorlessly. “Is it hard to believe that I don’t think I’m ready to tell them?”

Phoenix thought about Darius, and a brief smile crossed his face. “No. Not hard to believe at all.”

Xxx

“What do you think, salvageable or no?”

Phoenix considered the ladder Caleb presented for a moment. Compared to most of the wreckage they’d salvaged, this damage didn’t seem too bad. Not that he could even begin to wonder why Caleb had brought back a ladder when they were supposed to be looking for personal belongings. “Well, it seems mostly fine. Top rung is missing, but that… can… be re…”

Phoenix looked up at Caleb, who wore the biggest, smuggest grin he’d ever seen in his life plastered all over his face. “Is this the ladder you fell off of?”

“The one and only.” Caleb collapsed the ladder, sitting next to Phoenix with a sigh. “Titan, that seems like forever ago.”

“A lot happened,” Phoenix agreed, “I wish a few broken ribs and a busted ankle was still the worst injury you had to deal with.”

“Don’t forget the concussion.”

Phoenix waved a hand. “Jason’s had about 3 concussions since the day of unity, clearly they’re not a big deal.”

Phoenix heard an affronted gasp, and looked up to see a distressed Hunter jabbing one finger at him. “Do not say that in front of Jason. Do you know what we went through convincing him that he needed to rest?!”

“Was it worse than what we go through convincing Phoenix to take it easy?” Caleb asked wryly.

Phoenix waved a hand at the ladder. “Pot.”

“Fair enough. Did you need something, Hunter?”

Hunter took a deep breath. “Thank you for repairing Flapjack.” He scratched the bird’s head. “I… really thought I was going to lose him. But he’s okay now, thanks to you. I know… palisman are connected to their witches. If they’re going to heal, then they need to be close.” Another deep breath. “Which is why… I think he should stay with you for a bit. So that he can heal. I know you said he’s mine now, but in terms of magical bonds, I feel like the carver might stand a better chance for medical care, and you know more about repairing palisman anyway, so—”

Flapjack pecked his finger. Caleb smiled. “I don’t think Flap agrees there. And I don’t think that’s what you want, either.”

“Of course not,” Hunter declared immediately, “I want to keep him, I just…” his hands curled into shaking fists. “I don’t know if I’m the best person to take care of him anymore, at least not right now.” His voice cracked. “I hurt him, I—”

“Phillip hurt him,” Caleb said fiercely. He took Hunter’s hands in his own. “Phillip hurt him, not you. And Phillip’s gone now. Maybe I know more about repair than you, but Flapjack didn’t wake up to save my life. He woke up to save yours. I carved Flapjack, but he is your palisman.”

“Don’t you miss him?” Hunter asked, “Don’t you want a palisman? Aren’t you upset he’s not yours anymore?”

Or do you not care about him? The sentiment wasn’t stated, but it ran under the conversation like a riptide current. Caleb stumbled for words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

“Yes,” he said finally, “I do miss him. I loved having a palisman. And if Flapjack wanted to be my palisman again, I’d accept in a heartbeat. But… I couldn’t take him from you. Not if that’s where he wants to be.” Caleb rubbed the stumps of his fingers. “When I carved Flapjack, I wished to choose my own path in life. How could I deny him that same choice?” He heaved a sigh. “No. He’s yours.” A smile crossed his face. “But… I wouldn’t mind a visit from him every now and then. And maybe I could teach you a little bit about palisman repair, eh? My hands can’t hold the carving tools too well anymore, but I’ve still got some tricks left to pass on.”

Hunter smiled back, scratching Flapjack’s head again. “I’d like that.”

Xxx

“Hey! Phoenix!” Novus waved, beckoning him over. Ash stood with him, eying Phoenix nervously, but not retreating.

“So, good news—since a lot of my stuff was metal and small, it more-or-less survived the whole…” he waved a hand. “Yes. Anyway, I was examining those blueprints again, asking around, and I think we were looking at it all the wrong way.”

“Oh?”

“We were trying to figure out how to keep your arms from melting, trying to figure out how to keep it all smushed together. But that’s not the solution at all.”

Novus held up a much smaller, lighter gauntlet. Gauntlet wasn’t even the correct way to describe it—the contraption seemed to be a simple padded skeleton of metal with a joint at the elbow and a strap to pull over Phoenix’s thumb.

“What is it?” Phoenix asked.

“It’s a brace. Simple, easy. Instead of keeping your arms together, it’ll provide joint support for when your arms do melt—that way, there’s less stress on your bones and joints. And there’s plenty of space for your curse to get in and out through the gaps, so you can use it as needed. And look—” He twisted one of the circular bands, and it tightened, shrinking until Phoenix doubted he could fit his arm through without melting them.

“To keep the mud from pulling your bones out of place,” Novus explained, “It’s completely manual, so you don’t have to worry about it going haywire again. If it does get stuck, the whole thing pops open with a bit of pressure. I already tested it on my arm.” He tapped the brace. “It’s mostly for your elbow and wrist, but if you need more, I can work something out for your hands, too. Want to give this part a test?”

Phoenix delicately took one of the braces from him, sliding it over his arm and cinching it snugly into place. He moved his arm back and forth—the joint worked perfectly, bending the brace with almost no resistance. And when he slid his crutches under his shoulder, the strain on his wrist and elbow didn’t seem quite so terrible.

“This is… wow. Novus, thank you, this is incredible!”

“Thank Ash,” he replied with a grin, “They’re the one who gave me the idea to focus on support instead of containment.”

Phoenix blinked in surprise, turning to face the other grimwalker. Ash shrugged. “I could feel your bones shifting around when you saved me on that cliff,” they said quietly, “Like I said—it’s not something you can control or mess around with. So I thought maybe lessening the damage it does to your body might be a better option.”

Phoenix blinked back tears. “Thank you,” he mumbled, “both of you. It’s wonderful.”

Ash shrugged again. “Whatever makes all of… this… easier. I still don’t like…” they gestured broadly at Phoenix’s arms. “…but it seems like it’s helped us more than harmed us, and it’s DEFINITELY not going away any time soon. So… I guess we’ll just learn how to live with it, just like we have for everything else Belos did to us.”

“I guess so.”

Xxx

Phoenix slowly pushed open the door to Darius’ guest room. “Hey, Sam.” He’d missed too many meals in a row—Phoenix barely saw him anymore. Lake and Locke wouldn’t say it plain, but they were worried about him, too.

Sam grunted in response, absent-mindedly tapping a light glyph over and over again. He pushed the paper to the side and drew another one, obsessively checking all the lines, then gingerly poking at it with one finger. Nothing happened.

“It’s really over, isn’t it?” he asked, “They really aren’t going to work again.”

“That’s… how it looks,” Phoenix said gently, “Are you going to be okay?”

Sam heaved a distressed sigh. “These aren’t just a way to do magic without a bile sack. The glyphs are… they’re the language of the titan. The glyphs speak to them, and they respond with a burst of magic. They’re beautiful, they’re conversation. They’re more than just magic to me.”

“Yeah?”

Sam nodded, his eyes fixed on the dormant glyph. “Being with Belos, being the golden guard… it was so lonely. So isolating. I depended on Belos for magic, we all did. But then…” he tapped the glyph again, again with no effect. “But then I found the glyphs. I found what they could do, and I spend so much time studying them. I wrote glyph after glyph and tried combo after combo. And when I used the glyphs… I didn’t feel so alone. The more I used them, the closer I felt to the titan, and that was comforting. Maybe I had to run around in secret with them, maybe using them got me killed, but they were the best part of my life.”

Sam crumbled up the useless paper. “This is probably stupid, but losing them… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like just losing a hobby. It feels like I’ve lost a friend.” He quickly wiped his eyes. “Like I said, stupid, huh?”

Phoenix thought about King, about all the warmth and personality the tiny titan contained. Maybe Sam hadn’t spoken directly to the titan, the way Phoenix had with King, but if the glyphs were conversation… “No,” he said softly, “I don’t think it’s stupid at all.”

Sam smiled a watery smile. “And what am I supposed to do with my life now, huh? I’ve been studying the glyphs for years, and suddenly…”

“Eda’s looking for teachers,” Phoenix offered, “Maybe you could teach about the glyphs.”

Sam snorted. “Oh, yeah, right, a course about a dead language. Who’d want to take something like that?”

“Nerds like you,” Lake’s voice laughed from the door.

“And us,” Locke added, “I want to know more about the dead language.”

“Tell me about the dead language,” Lake agreed.

Sam’s face creased into a frown, and he opened his mouth, as if about to tell the two of them to quit bothering him, but no sound came out. Phoenix followed his gaze to Lake and Locke. Even though Lake had come in with a joke, there wasn’t a trace of humor behind the two of their faces, only plain earnestness. Sam turned away, but not before Phoenix saw tears start to stream from his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said thickly, “Yeah, okay. I’ll teach you.”

Xxx

“Last one—done.” Viney cut off Dagger’s cast and stepped back. “You’re all set—literally.” She finger-gunned, clicking her tongue. “Little bit of healer humor for you.”

Dagger stretched, wiggling his fingers with a groan. “Finally. I thought those things were never going to come off.” He started to get up, then caught himself. “Ah—thank you.”

Phoenix almost choked at the words, and even Viney looked taken aback for a moment, but she quickly smoothed the expression away. “Eh—you’re welcome.”

Dagger looked up at the ceiling. “You were… an adequate healer,” he said gruffly, “Likely better than most. Goodbye forever.”

He swung his legs out off the doctor’s bench and shambled towards the door, unused to the movement after his time healing.

Viney hesitated, taking a step forward and another back. “It doesn’t have to be forever,” she called shortly, “Hey—once things are back to normal around here, do you want to come to a flyer derby match? Rough contact sport, I’m gonna knock a whole bunch of people out of the sky.”

Dagger stopped in the doorway. “Well. Maybe. Only to watch people get body-slammed mid air and fall.”

“Right, right,” Viney agreed, “I thought you’d like that part. Hunter can tell you when the matches are—or you could stop by every so often, and I’ll keep you updated?”

“Sounds… fine. Goodbye now.”

Dagger stalked out, and Phoenix chased after him, flashing a thumbs-up to Viney. His own ankle still sat heavy in its cast, but he’d find another healer. “That was nice,” he ventured.

Dagger walked quickly, outpacing Phoenix. “I don’t care about your opinion on the matter. Honestly, why did you even come to the appointment? You knew I was going to be able to walk at the end.”

“It was… sort of my fault you got injured in the first place,” Phoenix said sheepishly, “I thought I should be there. And I know how you feel about trusting strangers. But I guess… that doesn’t apply to Viney anymore?”

“Viney is now an acquaintance,” Dagger said shortly, “One that I, in fact, trust and wish to be around more than I do you. This discussion is over.”

“I just thought it was n—”

“Over.”

Xxx

Caleb plunked a blue scroll on the kitchen table, unrolling it with a flourish. It nearly knocked over Darius’ coffee, but he lifted the cup just in time.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Caleb said with a grin.

“Dreams do come true,” Evelyn laughed, “Everyone—look. We’ve been working on plans for the new house. Novus has been helping, so he’s seen them, but we wanted to share the plans before we made any final decisions.”

“Now that we have an actual count on how many people will be living with us and aren’t periodically adding on rooms, we’ve actually got a real house design,” Caleb continued, “What do you think?”

Phoenix examined the paper, lifting Ghost up so that they could see. The plans did seem more orderly—two stories up with both floors relatively even in size, instead of a sprawling, chaotic bottom floor and a few add-on rooms up top where necessary.

Mole tapped the yard area with a frown.

“He’s right,” Jason piped up, “The fence is too close to the house. The garden will be smaller, unless we get rid of the griffin pen.”

Caleb and Evelyn glanced at each other. “That’s… the other thing we wanted to talk to you about,” Caleb said slowly.

Evelyn took his hand. “We don’t have to hide anymore,” she said lightly, “And with a portal to the human realm, well… we can get some of the foods Caleb needs more easily. The garden isn’t going to be as big because we… we thought we might move closer to town.”

“They’re rebuilding, too,” Caleb added hastily, “If there’s a time to bring our home closer, it’s now. The move will mean better access to food, more healers, help if we need it—we don’t have to be right dead center of the town, but we think it’s a good idea to be a little closer to the people.” He squeezed Evelyn’s hand. “We’ve been isolated long enough. I fell in love with the people of the Isles as much as the Isles itself; I’d like to be near them again.”

“What about hunting demons?” Horus protested, “We can’t get food if we’re not close to the forest.”

“We can live closer to the outskirts,” Caleb promised, “And like we said—now that we can rely on other people, we won’t have to worry as much about food.”

“There’s always bounties for bigger demons,” Evelyn offered, “You don’t have to give it up completely.”

“I don’t like it.”

Silver’s declaration came clear, ringing with distaste, but they quailed underneath the sudden attention as everyone turned towards them.

“I mean—” they stuttered, “I just—uh—never mind.”

“It’s alright,” Caleb encouraged them, “Go ahead, no one’s angry.”

“It’s—it’s too close. There’s too many people. Even with all of us, if they get angry, we won’t be enough to stop them.” They rubbed their arms. “I think we should stay in the woods.”

It was the most Phoenix had ever heard them say without cracking a joke. Silver got along with others so well and was so openly friendly, it was easy to forget the way they crumpled inside of a crowd. But Phoenix remembered how they’d shut down when the coven day parade had turned ugly, and remembered the way they’d nearly died. No wonder they were nervous about moving closer to town and revealing their presence.

“What if we just moved to the edge of the woods?” Phoenix suggested.

All eyes swung towards him, and Silver perceptibly sank in relief. Phoenix shrugged.

“I won’t pretend moving closer to people isn’t appealing,” he admitted, glancing over at Darius, “Even just in the months I’ve been here, we’ve had several emergencies that wouldn’t have been as dire if we weren’t so far from civilization.” He shifted Ghost to his other hip. “And I think Ghost should get the chance to be around witchlings their own age, or we’ll just be repeating history.

But… I think maybe we need to take it slower than moving right to their doors.” He cast an apologetic glance at Caleb. “We have been isolated for a while—I’m not sure launching right back into the thick of society is a good plan. If we move just to the edge of the woods, we’ll be within easy walking distance of town, but far enough away that it won’t be too hard to get used to. I think,” he amended, looking to Silver.

They shrugged.

“I’m okay with that,” Horus agreed.

“The griffins will like having more space, too,” Joseph added, “I know you won’t rely as heavily on their eggs with access to the human realm, but they can’t go out into the wild. And griffin chicks as pets are still a good source of income, especially if you’re planning to rely more heavily on resources from town.”

Caleb smiled, a somewhat tight smile, but still genuine. “Well, this is why we thought we’d get opinions before making a decision,” he said cheerfully, “We’ll reconsider. Thanks, guys.”

Grimwalkers filed out of the kitchen, Caleb and Evelyn following suit after rolling up their plans. Only Darius, Phoenix, and Ghost remained in the kitchen.

“You know, you could always stay with me,” Darius said casually. A little too casually—he stared at his coffee like looking at Phoenix would seem too desperate. “Especially if you’re looking to send the little one to school.” He nodded to Ghost. “I’m closer to Hexside. And if you want to stay near people…”

Phoenix shook his head. “I couldn’t separate Ghost from the rest of the family.” Ghost babbled in agreement.

“You’re their family, too. They wouldn’t be completely separated.” Darius’ fingers tightened on his mug. “What’s the alternative? You move far away? I mean, you in particular, you’re trying out Eda’s elixirs to manage your curse, and you and I had plans to figure out how to use it more beneficially. Wouldn’t it make sense to stay here? With me?”

“Oh—” Phoenix sighed. “Darius—”

“Don’t.” Darius raised a hand. “You’ll go with them. I know that.” A sad, brief smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say that will change your mind?”

“I’ll visit plenty,” Phoenix promised, “We really won’t be that far, and if we’re closer to town, I can catch transportation to Bonesborough easy. It’s not—I don’t—you’re not—”

Darius shook his head. “It’s fine.” He smiled another one of those sad, small smiles. “I suppose I never really had to share you before, did I? I mean, you were always off on some mission or another, or guarding Belos, but… well, it’s different now, isn’t it?”

“I don’t care about them more than I care about you,” Phoenix told him bluntly, “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, or that I prefer being around them to being around you. But…” he gestured back. “…they’re home now, in a way the keep never was, and in a way it would have been unfair to ask you to be back then. It’s… it’s hard to explain, but it wouldn’t feel right if I stayed with anyone but them.”

Darius looked away. “Of course. Stay with whomever you feel is right.”

He stalked off, and Phoenix heaved a sigh, setting Ghost down and rubbing his temples. “I’m making a mess of things, aren’t I?” he asked the toddler.

They nodded serenely and patted his knee. “Home,” they told him seriously, “Nee-Nee home.”

“I’m trying, buddy.” Phoenix caught sight of Chryses through the window, and he grabbed his crutches, swinging towards the door. “What is he…?”

Getting Cherry or Jason or literally anyone who was capable of walking right now probably would have been the better option. But Phoenix had been stuck inside for too long while everyone insisted that he rest, and this seemed like the perfect excuse to go out.

Chryses didn’t prove hard to catch up with. He moved slowly, and he kept pausing to peer around corners. Phoenix cleared his throat as he approached, but still, Chryses flinched.

“I’m just looking for Silver,” he said softly, “They disappeared after the house thing. I can’t find them inside.”

“I’ll help.”

The ghost of a smile crossed Chryses’ face. “I’m not completely fragile, you know. And I’m not sure you’re in any state to be helping, anyway.”

“Well, I don’t want to be treated like I’m fragile, either,” Phoenix shot back, “Besides, I think Darius is mad at me.”

“For staying with us?”

“More like for not staying with him.”

“Ah.”

Chryses and Phoenix wandered through Bonesborough, occasionally stopping to ask if anyone had seen Silver. Every time, they were met with head shakes and sympathetic ‘I’m sure they’ll turn up’s.

“I haven’t seen them.” The latest witch glanced behind Phoenix. “Ah—you might want to slow down. Your kid is having trouble keeping up.”

Phoenix blinked. “My kid?”

“Is that little one not yours?”

Phoenix clumsily turned around to see Ghost padding up the street towards them, huffing and puffing. They finally caught up with a dramatic sigh, reaching up towards Phoenix.

“You’re not supposed to be out here!” Phoenix exclaimed, dropping his crutches to crouch down next to them, “How long have you been following?”

“Oh—hey!”

A demon stopped and backpedaled, pointing at Phoenix and Chryses. “Are you looking for another witch like you? About yay high, braid?”

“Yes!” Chryses answered quickly, “You’ve seen them?”

“On the next transport worm to the third rib.”

“Silver,” Phoenix groaned.

Chryses scooped Ghost up. “We know where they’re going now. We can catch them. No need to rush. Should we take Ghost home first?”

Phoenix picked his crutches up and slowly rose to his feet. “No, we might miss Silver if they decide to come back soon. We should go after them.”

Chryses nodded, and Phoenix led the way towards the transport worm station—or, at least, where it should be, if they hadn’t rearranged the whole system since he’d disappeared.

Chryses hummed. “It’s nice to finally be walking with someone at my pace,” he told Phoenix, “I know it’s just because of your broken ankle and the baby, but… I’m glad I’m not struggling to keep up for once.”

Phoenix blinked. “Does that happen often?”

Chryses shrugged as best he could around the toddler in his arms. “No one ever means to leave me behind. But it’s easy to do.”

“I’m sorry.”

They plodded on in silence, climbing onto the transport worm. A few riders gave Ghost a worried look, or an openly-hostile stink-eye, but one glare from Phoenix sent them staring determinedly out the windows. Phoenix sat down with a whoosh, stretching out his injured leg with a sigh. The braces on his arms clicked gently with the movement.

Chryses plopped down next to him. “How long has it been hurting? The curse, I mean.”

“Oh.” Phoenix rubbed his wrists and popped his knuckles. “A while, I guess. I’ve just sort of gotten used to my arms always hurting a bit. The leg and the strain of the crutches don’t help, though. How did you know?”

“You’re not the only one with old wounds that hurt.” Chryses pressed one arm against his chest. “I hope we find Silver soon.”

The town remained a wreck—Belos’ shaking had caused walls to crumble, and graffiti still marred the buildings that did stand. But the woods hadn’t changed a bit. Aside from the occasional uprooted tree, there was no evidence whatsoever that the apocalypse had nearly happened.

Phoenix had SEEN their home destroyed. He’d seen it fall beneath the flick of the Collector’s finger. He’d come back again to fight Belos. But somehow, without a lurking threat, the wreckage seemed… sadder. Rubble had been shifted and moved, organized and cleared away so that the others could reclaim their belongings, but knowing that they wouldn’t be rebuilding and were abandoning the site altogether made the piles of stone and wood feel lonelier.

Chryses let Ghost down, pointing silently. Ghost toddled off, moving chunks of rubble with heavy little grunts, and digging in the dirt with their bare hands, singing a song only they knew the words to. Phoenix followed Chryses’ finger to Silver, who perched forlornly on a ruined chair, resting their chin on their knees.

“You didn’t have to follow me. I was going to go back.”

“I know,” Chryses replied softly, “Are you okay?”

“Just wanted to say goodbye.” Silver stood up, brushed themselves off, and waved. “Bye, ruins! Sorry that you two came all the way out here for me. In the immortal words of vegetables everywhere: lettuce leaf now.”

Chryses didn’t move from his spot, even when Silver passed him. “Silver.”

Silver’s shoulders trembled, but they stopped in their tracks. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth.”

“Are you sure about that? Both of you?”

“I’m sure,” Chryses told him. Phoenix nodded.

Silver took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be that close to that many people. Phoenix, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you got us pushed back closer to the woods, but even just that many people knowing we’re out there… I know there are benefits, I was listening to Dad, but it’s dangerous. It’s too risky. What if they find out we used to be golden guards and they want revenge? What if they all hate grimwalkers and they figure out what we are? What if they just don’t like outsiders? We’re safer in hiding. None of them can get angry at us if they don’t know where we are.”

“The cat’s out of the bag already,” Phoenix said quietly, “We’ve been living at Darius’ house for a couple of weeks now, and people have seen us. Caleb might have been able to sneak one grimwalker at a time, but moving all of us is going to be impossible not to notice.”

“Town isn’t that bad, is it?” Chryses asked, “I’ve never been, but surely the people aren’t—”

“You weren’t there!” Silver flinched at their own outburst. “Sorry. Sorry, but Chryses, you weren’t there. Phoenix, you remember how it was—they turned so fast. Maybe they’re not bad all the time, but they’re quick to form a mob.”

“That’s true,” Phoenix said slowly, trying to give himself the time to think of a rebuttal, “They could turn on us. But the last time that happened, you were able to redirect them pretty easily. We all escaped, and no one got hurt. And that was when there were only four of us—you, me, Dad, and Cyrus. How much easier do you think it will be if all of us are together?”

“They’ll know where we live. There won’t be anywhere to escape to.” Silver hugged themselves tightly. “I’m scared. And I don’t think I can joke it away this time.”

“I’m not sure I want life to change either,” Chryses admitted, “I was hurting already; it’s terrifying to think about how it could get worse.” He took a deep breath. “But what if life gets better? What if Ghost can grow up like a normal kid, something we never had? What if we can find a healer that will be able to stop Steven’s seizures? What if Darius and the owl lady really do have a solution for Phoenix’s curse? What if—if one of the townspeople becomes your best friend?”

“It’s going to be a hard step,” Phoenix agreed, “but we have to take it. We’ll figure out the change. We’ll keep compromising until we can all find somewhere comfortable. But we will make it. All of us.”

Compromise.

And just like that, Phoenix knew what we had to say to Darius.

“We’ll make it,” Silver echoed, “Maybe… maybe we could still build something out here. A safe house, in case home is compromised. Just in case. But stay near town.”

“We could at least ask Novus to add a secret room to the plans,” Chryses added, “Somewhere to hide out.”

“Box.”

All three grimwalkers twisted to look at Ghost, who proudly presented a filthy stone cube to Phoenix. An eye marked the surface, and a crack ran around the edge—the lid. Phoenix took the cube from Ghost—he’d never seen it before, but it looked important. Maybe Evelyn or Caleb would know what it was. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Wecom.” Ghost pointed to the trees. “All done. Home now?”

Silver crouched down next to them, “What about home here? Do you remember home here?”

Ghost eyed the rubble distastefully. “Home now,” they repeated, pointing firmly at the path, “Bye.”

They tugged on Phoenix’s crutch, and he shrugged apologetically. “I guess I better take them back to Darius’ house.”

Silver stood in a daze. “I guess so.” They smiled wanly. “Thanks for coming out here to find me. I think… I think you’re right. I think we’re taking steps in the right direction. Small steps.” Silver ruffled Ghost’s hair with a bigger grin, one that looked much more like them. “Perhaps even one could say… baby steps.”

Phoenix groaned, but a laugh burst out of Chryses’ throat. Silver’s head whipped around, a delighted grin plastered across their face.

“I got you?!”

“That was terrible.”

“But you laughed.”

“But I laughed.”

On the ride home, Phoenix idly pulled out his Penstagram scroll.

16 messages.

“Oh, titan.”

The most recent message was from Hunter, and was filled with so many misspellings and random capitalizations, Phoenix didn’t even try to read it. He handed it to Silver, who squinted at the screen, mouthing silently to themselves.

“He says that Darius says to check your messages. I think.”

Phoenix hissed, opening the other 15 messages. They’d been sent within minutes of each other, one at a time. Most of the first few were short, only a few words, but they got longer as time went on, before switching back to short messages.

Where are you?

Did you leave the house?

Are you in town?

Phoenix, where did you go?

Let me know where you went—Eda says you’re not with her.

Are you okay? Did something happen?

Phoenix, are you in danger? Where are you?

Why aren’t you answering?

Caleb says to ask if Ghost is with you. He and Evelyn are worried.

They just did a head count, and they want to know if you’re with Silver and Chryses as well.

Phoenix, I swear to titan, you better not have disappeared again.

Do not make me call Eberwolf to track you down. He’ll make fun of me.

Phoenix, can you answer?

Please tell me you’re alright

Please come back to us

Sick sadness settled in the pit of Phoenix’s stomach, and his arms shifted sluggishly in response. He hadn’t meant to be gone long enough to worry Darius—he’d just been chasing after Chryses and had forgotten to tell anyone where he was going. He leaned back against the transport worm, closing his eyes. The walk to the house and back had left a deep weariness settled in his bones. Phoenix had chalked up his recent exhaustion to how fast everything had moved since he’d run from the Collector, but he’d had plenty of rest and good food now that they’d finally come to a stop. Still, it took so much energy to do things now, and he wondered if it was extra strain from the crutches, or the curse. Maybe some combination of the two.

The worm came to a stop in Bonesborough, and Phoenix hurried back to Darius’ house. Darius paced back and forth outside, his shoulders sagging in relief when he caught sight of Phoenix.

“Don’t disappear on me like that again,” he scolded, “I thought you’d—you’d—”

“Belos is gone,” Phoenix reminded him gently.

“The curse isn’t! You can’t tell me about the time you eloped to the woods half wild in the middle of a boiling rainstorm and then expect me not to worry when you disappear!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d be gone that long.” Phoenix caught Darius’ arms. “Look—Darius. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m still here—look, I’m still here.”

“You’re still here,” Darius repeated. “Hunter—Phoenix. Please don’t leave again.”

He wasn’t just talking about today.

“Change is terrifying,” Phoenix said softly, “I know you’re afraid we’ll drift apart. I know you want to keep me close so that nothing bad will happen again.”

“The last few times I’ve let you out of my sight, you’ve nearly been killed. Is it so bad I want you to stay here?”

“They’re my family.” Phoenix squeezed Darius’ shoulders. “But so are you. I want to stay close—so how about a compromise.”

“A compromise?”

“Share. Once the house is built, I’m going to live with Caleb and Evelyn.”

Darius’ ears drooped, and Phoenix gave him a small shake.

“Hey, I’m not done. I’m going to live with Caleb and Evelyn on the weekdays. But I’ll stay with you on the weekends. And once Ghost is school age? I’ll take them to Hexside, and I’ll stop by every day. You’ll be absolutely sick of me.”

“Never,” Darius said fiercely, “That could never happen.”

“Joking aside… would that be okay? I know it isn’t exactly what you wanted, but it’s the best I can think of.”

“I think I can live with that.” Darius gave Phoenix a small smile. “Thank you.”

Phoenix hugged him, and Darius froze for a second, before patting him awkwardly on the back. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to you being so affectionate.”

Phoenix pulled back. “Sorry. Should have asked.” He pulled back. “Do you know where Caleb is? I should probably let him know we’re all back.”

“Likely pacing indoors. I think Evelyn was about ready to create another scrying spell.”

Phoenix winced. The moment the five of them walked indoors, Evelyn scooped Ghost up, plastering kisses all over their face.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she scolded them, and turned a stink-eye on Phoenix. “Some heads-up that you’d taken the toddler with you would have been nice. You’re old enough that I trust you to take care of yourself. They’re not.”

“Sorry. I didn’t even realize they were following me.” Phoenix held out the stone cube that Ghost had unearthed. “Do you recognize this? They found it at the house.”

Evelyn took the box with a frown. “It’s not mine. And it’s not Caleb’s. Where did they find it?”

“Digging around, I suppose? They were…” Phoenix made a mental map of the house. “…where the kitchen used to be.”

“Hm. The kitchen isn’t an add-on—this box must have been buried underneath the original foundations of the house and gotten shaken up when the Collector destroyed everything.” Evelyn turned the box over in her hands. “It’s a puzzle, I think. I’ll throw it to Sam to solve. He’s been itching for something to do. Or Novus, if Sam can’t.” She shook her head. “It’s odd, though. I could have sworn we were the first people out there. The land seemed untouched when we made our home. No signs of civilization until you hit town.”

Phoenix frowned to match. “But if you, Caleb, and Achsah were the first people out there…who buried the box?”

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Went to a D&D meetup for autists yesterday

and the dude next to me was wearing a ATSV Miles Morales hoodie and at the time I very very low speaking but it took everything in me to not be like

'H-hobiee bRown - id like tu speak to yu about Hobie bbRown-'

'are you aware of him? Follow up question are you aware of anyone by the name of diane-'

But like I said - low speaking and had no idea how to form the thoughts to make a sentence people could even respond to and I know walking up to someone and stuttering Hobies name with no other context is not appropriate

nor is reciting his intro without prompt as a way to communicate I like the movies

so instead I waited till the end and told him I like his hoodie and he said thanks and then I told him about the new spot btsv storyboard and he nodded and then I left :)

But just being the the vicinity of another autistic person with the same special interest have me that internal autistim 'bees in my nervous system' feeling

If someone other than my mother tried to talk to me about Hobie id probably be unable to turn any type of thought because I'm so not normal about him the only realistic reaction I can give is

Anyway I made a DND character named Petros Parker he's like Peter Parker variant in the campaign and his story always follows canon as close as possible lol

He's a half-elf fighter, with a folk hero background

And yes he canonically goes to Spider Society. He's friends with Pavi.

Anyway dude from DND if you're reading this I promise im normal and kind and not feral in person I promise Please Mention Hobie to Me

[stranded-labyrinth]

i got tagged to post the last line of my w.i.p. just as i was setting up its AO3 page. timing sure is a funny thing.

"Will listened the entire time, the sickest parts of him being satisfied."

i would like to apologize in advance for this one shot

[muspeccoll]

We have an exciting new acquisition to feature this Friday! Last week, a generous donor gave the Libraries a copy of Pierre Borel's De Vero Telescopii Inventore (1655). This work is a history of the invention of the telescope from antiquity to the time of writing. At the time, both Hans Lippershey and Zacharias Janssen claimed to be the inventor of the telescope, and Pierre Borel found Janssen's claims to be more convincing. Present-day historians have tended to recognize Lippershey instead, but they do give Janssen credit for inventing the compound microscope.

Borel also printed a letter from Christiaan Huygens' in which he details his observations of Titan, one of the moons of Saturn. This letter also contained Huygens' identification of the rings of Saturn in an anagram - a sly way to sneak the idea into print without giving it away before Huygens' own publication of Systema Saturnium in 1659.

This volume is bound with several others: Johann Franz Griendel's Micrographia nova (1687); Anton van Leeuwenhoek's Ontledingen en ontdekkingen van levende dierkens in de teel-deelen van verscheide dieren, vogelen en visschen (1696); and Govard Bidloo's Brief aan Antony van Leeuwenhoek (1698).

Many thanks to donor Rick Hardin for this newest addition to the collection.

De vero telescopii inventore : cum brevi omnium conspiciliorum historia : ubi de eorum confectione, ac usu, seu de effectibus agitur, novaque quaedam circa ea proponuntur : accessit etiam centuria observationum microcospicarum / Authore Petro Borello, regis Christianissimi consiliario, & medico ordinario. VAULT QB88 .B72 1655