#who just want to live their life and also occasionally eat a giant egg

[crevicedwelling]

Im considering getting some moth friends. Any tips on what enclosures I should use, what species to pick for beginners, what foods to feed them, etc?

Thanks in advance,

-Ash!

in general, most moths make pretty poor pets, especially as adults. keeping moths = rearing larvae, essentially, and this juvenile stage is probably the longest part of most species’ lifespans. if you want moths just for the adults, very few species I consider to be ethical to keep will be of interest to you, and I think the best way to enjoy moths is to find them in the wild and leave them there.

adult moths tend to not do well in captivity because they are hard to feed (where to put all the flowers?) and will beat themselves to death on most containers because they don’t understand “wall.” most moths are not suitable for captivity for these reasons and when entomologists/hobbyists rear a random larva they find, it’s usually intended to be killed as a scientific specimen once matured or released after a photo. this means there’s only a handful of moths that can reliably be bred in captivity (captive breeding being one of the most important requirements for ethical insectkeeping).

one of the main groups of these are saturniids (giant silkmoths), who do not feed as adults and are quite large and showy at all life stages. when I was 10 or so I kept saturniids including luna moths and Polyphemus moths, and raised the larvae in cat litter tubs I found on the street with mesh over the tops, feeding them daily with fresh branches from neighborhood trees (my dad was very helpful in cutting down the foodplants). after pupation I kept the pupae in a large tub with lots of stick and egg carton perches that I occasionally misted for moisture. since they were from local stock I would release the adults at night; saturniids are definitely less active than, say, a hawkmoth or a noctuid that needs to feed, but still often get quite beat up just from living in mesh containers and I didn’t like seeing that.

native giant silkmoths may not be legal to keep in all areas, and exotic species are tightly controlled in the US where I live. it can be difficult to obtain eggs here, even of native species. never release any moth that isn’t native, and the most responsible thing to do is not release any at all due to captive population densities being a potential source of disease.

another option is domesticated silkworms (Bombyx mori), which I’d say are probably the most ethical moth to keep since they are adapted to life in human care. they’re flightless and also do not feed as adults; larvae eat mulberry leaves but can also be maintained on a formulated mush that can be purchased (not a fan of the price in the US!). many reptile sites or stores stock them as reptile food, probably the best way to get them in manageable quantities. Galleria waxworms can be obtained in a similar way, but require a honey/syrup/bran diet that’s highly unpleasant to produce.

some hawkmoths can be kept as pets, such as Manduca sexta hornworms also used as reptile feeders, although they are highly active and feeding them can be a challenge. in Europe the death’s head hawkmoths (Acherontia) can be obtained sometimes, and adults eat honey but again can be difficult to get eating. both species prefer tomato and other nightshades as larval food.

as said before, non-saturniid and non-B. mori moths are best found as larvae, maintained on what food you found them eating, then released as adults. if you are as crazy as me and willing to risk all your foodstuffs becoming infested, some grain pest moths like Plodia and Pyralis are easy to maintain on bran, nuts, and oats, but this is probably very far from “pet moths” you’re looking for.

[coeurdastronaute]

The Cover Story, Ch. 1

Greetings! This is a preview of my first chapter that I’m posting exclusively on my patreon. If you like it, I hope you follow along as I work on it there. I appreciate your time and thoughts and would love to hear what you think. 

Without further ado, or perhaps much ado about thing...

Lucy Madani was not going to cry. 

That was a lie. She might cry. She wanted to cry. She was known to cry very easily, but not without reason, and there certainly were more than enough reasons already for her to tear up as she stood on the corner and felt a wave of water from a bus going through a puddle splash her legs and skirt. It was only just after eight in the morning, and she was ready to crawl back into bed, admit defeat graciously, and sleep straight through to tomorrow. 

“I can’t talk right now, Baba,” Lucy muttered into her phone as she resumed her quick walk down the street. 

“You are mad, and we need to talk.” 

“Let me rephrase it. I don’t want to and I also can’t. I’m going to be late for my meeting.”

“Your big interview pitch. I wanted to wish you good luck, but you stormed off.” 

“Yes, that is what one tends to do when their father informs them that he is getting engaged,” she fumed, her anger coming over her once again at the thought as she darted across the street, waving her hand at the honking car. 

She was an adult, she tried to remind herself. A full, grown adult. An adult-adult who barely had a stable job, had heaps of student loans, and still lived with her widowed father. She didn’t throw tantrums and she wasn’t going to cry about any of it. Today was too important for that, and she was going to nail the pitch and finally move on from puff pieces for teen magazines. She was going to make the jump to serious journalist. She was going to be requested, by name. 

Today she was not going to cry. 

At least not on purpose. 

“Will you be home for dinner?” 

Luckily, he knew enough to sound sorry, though it wasn’t enough of a victory for her, only fueling the prickling behind her eyes. 

“No, I’m going over Laila’s. I’ll just stay there. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with her.” 

“Lucy joon, please talk to me. I know you’re mad-- you have your mother’s temper, but I think we should talk about this.” 

“I’m going into my meeting. We’ll talk sometime this week,” she offered, shaking her head. “Just… I have to go.” 

She didn’t wait for much of a reply because she knew he was playing low, dragging her mother into it. It only made it worse. Shoes sloshing against the tile of the lobby, she made her way to the elevator and decided firmly, once again, that she was not going to cry. 

Her phone chimed with a handful of well wishes and good luck’s from the group chat and she thanked them quickly before trying to find the meeting information from her calendar, head down and lost in her own world as she stepped into the elevator and right into a stranger. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy hurried, looking forward and then following the chest and then long pale neck up a few more inches to an amused smirk and eyes hidden by wayfarer sunglasses. 

“Not a problem. I was in the way.” 

The stranger ran her hand through a mop of curly copper hair atop her head, faded on the sides and shaggy on top, decidedly better put together than any tiktok boy’s. Her small smile pulled at bow-shaped lips and left dimples on both cheeks, and there were too many freckles to even begin counting. Lucy gulped before moving to the side and slinking to the back corner. 

Of course she would get into an elevator with the hottest woman she’d ever seen. Of course she would nearly plow her over in her hurry. Of course she would be sweet and smile like that and have an adorably shaped chin and face. Of course Lucy would do all of that while looking like something the cat dragged in after a bad night. 

But luck wasn’t with her today, and she was unable to hide too long, as no one else got on behind her and she heaved the heaviest sigh before looking down at her ruined stockings, spattered with mud and whatever else was festering in that puddle. Her skirt was soaked still and dripping and she was beginning to really feel it sinking into her skin. Phone clutched tightly in her hand, she felt the weight of it all and didn’t know what to do with it. 

From under her brow she looked up to study the back of the stranger, their long legs and black jeans, their primly tucked in black t-shirt that stretched slightly across her shoulders, and the softest looking hair in the most beautiful shade of red she’d ever seen. 

The elevator ascended approximately three floors before she started crying. Alligator tears slipped down her cheeks before she could do anything to stop them. And then the stranger cleared their throat and quietly turned around to verify what was happening, was actually happening, only making it worse. 

But she didn’t say anything, just turned back around, and with the smallest movement stretched an arm forward to hold the elevator between floors, and quickly, Lucy turned herself around and faced the wall. She took a few steadying breaths and wiped her cheeks, mentally preparing to leave everything else behind and focus on the moment-- when she would be selling herself to one of the largest companies of all time to be the writer of the profile of their Director of Creative Design before they went public. She’d prepared. She was ready. Nothing else mattered and she was a goddamn adult. 

The stranger, the kind, hot stranger pushed her sunglasses up into the messy curly hair and offered a smaller smile than before, the communal ‘it’ll be okay’ without saying anything. Lucy didn’t register much of it, just stared at the grey-green of her eyes, forgetting all else, and especially that she was a goddamn adult who desperately needed a payday to move out of her father’s place and away from whoever was moving into her mother’s side of the bed. 

“I’m not usually,” she began, but bit her tongue because she didn’t want to lie. She was usually like this, just occasionally less muddy. “Thank you.” 

“We can stay a few more minutes if you’d like. I don’t really want to go to work today.” 

For the first time all day, Lucy smiled genuinely and felt lighter. It was that quick and that easy. 

“It’s okay. I’m ready.” 

A curt nod led to a stretch again and the elevator started once more. Lucy leaned across and pressed the button for her floor, catching a whiff of a distinctly woodsy smell, like sandalwood perhaps? There was a hit of lavender? Maybe cedar? It was wonderful. She wanted to breathe in more of it, but retreated before she was the girl who cried and sniffed people in the elevator. 

The silence was oddly comfortable for a few more seconds until it dinged and she took the step out. The stranger politely held the door and offered one final smile, complete with just one dimple this time. 

“Good luck,” she winked before pulling back, hands clasped loosely in front of her before the doors closed forever. 

It couldn’t get better than that, Lucy decided, staring at the elevator doors and steadying herself once again. But she was hoping it couldn’t get worse either. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

Quinn Sullivan wanted to die. 

Not really die, but she might have taken a good coma. Just for like a week maybe. Or six months. Something long enough to beat out this hangover she was sporting, courtesy of her very thoughtful best friend, and if she was lucky, long enough to survive the offering and release of the new game. Maybe a year-long coma? Was that too much to ask for, honestly? Maybe the universe could toss her a bone, just this once, especially after the previous year of her life. 

But in lieu of a swift and merciful death and/or coma, she was just going to have to survive the giant hangover that was currently attacking her body. All she needed was a quiet day and an extra large piece of leftover pizza she was certain was waiting in the staff fridge somewhere. Maybe some birthday cake--

And then a five-five wrecking ball of a human barreled into her chest. 

The rest of her ride up, Quinn thought about the weird trip it’d been, and if she should have done something different. And then she beat herself up for winking. Who winked? Why did she wink? She’d never done it before. But she earned a smile from a cute girl, and there was a tiny flutter at the base of her rib cage, one she hadn’t noticed in a long, long time. She pressed her fingertips there for the rest of the ride to her floor. 

With a groan, she put her sunglasses back on as the elevator dinged to her floor and took a deep breath to prepare for her day, not allowing her brain to trace out an entire life with the cute, crying stranger where they bought peaches at the farmer’s market on Saturday’s and danced in the kitchen. Romance was dead and dreaming was forbidden. 

“Aspirin is already on your desk,” Jenny greeted her cheerfully. “With an egg sandwich and some fruit.”

“No leftover pizza?” Quinn didn’t pout, but she might have for that.

“Trust me, this will fix you up much better. I went to a state school, remember, MIT?” 

“We partied…” Quinn trailed off as she pushed open the door to her office. 

She hadn’t partied, but she was certain people had to have partied. It was college, and though it was many moons ago, she certainly couldn’t remember hangovers feeling like this. Maybe this is what almost thirty felt like. That thought didn’t help with the headache.

“All-night coding sessions don’t count. Eat the food. I’ll hold the wolves at bay as long as I can, but Chris and the Exlust team are adamant you have the meeting today to resolve story issues.” 

Quinn tossed back the aspirin before she even sat down. Maybe Jenny was her universal compensation. The shades were already drawn so her normally bright office was much more tolerable. Even the eggs didn’t make her stomach swirl, and she was grateful her assistant learned something useful while studying biomedical engineering.. 

“I just need like an hour to work something out. I had an idea last night--”

“Before or after the sangria?” 

“During. Definitely during, but still. I just need to work through it and then they can tear me to shreds. Can you add to my calendar a warning to never drink again?” 

Quinn was fairly certain she’d texted her assistant that at some point in the morning. Probably before the shower, but after the first cup of coffee. 

“Gladly,” Jenny smiled softly. “You doing okay? It’s been a while since you tied one on like this.” 

“I’m fine. Just celebrating with Darcy. No more sad drinking, I believe was the rule you came up with and I follow all of your rules.” 

With a roll of the eyes, files were placed on her desk and her assistant retreated to the ringing phones, which when the door was held open, were actual torture devices to Quinn’s brain. 

“Sadie wants your afternoon free. I think it’s another reporter.” 

“She’s relentless.” 

“Maybe you’re impossible?” 

“It’s genetic then,” Quinn sighed, munching on a grape and tugging open a notebook. “One hour, please?” 

“I got you, boss.” 

“Thanks.” 

Never quite sure how Jenny did it, Quinn chose not to ask any questions. But when she asked for an hour, she got it. And despite the headache and laziness in her muscles, the food and aspirin did help so that by the end of her allotted time, she felt like she had captured the breakthrough that appeared to her the night before. 

Before she could admire her work though, her team filed in and she was prepared to start her day, finally, even with the nagging idea of a reporter nipping at her thoughts through it all. 

Somewhere between her breakfast and lunch, Quinn felt better. She fired off a few texts to see how Darcy was handling it and received only pictures of a half obscured but obviously still in bed face and chuckled to herself. It was a slower day, and she wasn’t about to waste it with a hangover. She should give Jenny a raise, she decided, because the woman could cure hangovers. Maybe submit her for the Nobel for Science. 

“Sadie is here,” her assistant buzzed and Quinn lost all forms of motivation. 

Her head hit her desk dramatically as the door opened and her sister walked in. Slightly shorter, but older by two years, Sadie was nearly everything Quinn could never manage to be despite her best intentions. She had the MBA from Harvard and the doting husband that came with it, a cute brownstone near White Hill and the park, and her first baby on the way. But even past her resume, Sadie Sullivan-Hawkins was personable and charismatic. She was adored and shrewd, capable of disarming anyone and eviscerating the others. It all came so easy to her, to have people around, to talk and be listened to, to be loved. She was a shark in business, and at the same time warm and put people at ease. 

Quinn could barely tie her shoes and Sadie was running a marathon in life. 

“Want to talk about it?” Sadie smiled as she took the seat across from Quinn’s desk. 

“About what?” 

“Why you’re getting drunk with Darcy on a Tuesday?” 

“She got the job at Taylor and Vine. We were celebrating.” 

“So not about Chloe’s announcement in the Times?” 

Quinn played dumb, typing gibberish into her phone because she didn’t want to look at her sister’s kind and caring face. If she looked, then she’d have more feelings, and for the life of her, she just wanted the incessant tinnitus of the break up to disappear completely. 

“Nope, I caught that this morning though, so I was in the right physical and mental place to really wallow. I don’t care about her.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“I have these notes to get done for the Shadow Operation team before our meeting with design. I’m fine. My ex can marry whoever she wants-- God knows she didn’t want to marry me. Good luck to the next sap.”

This made her sister chuckle, and Quinn smiled quietly to herself. There was still a bitterness there that she couldn’t get rid of. It was masking potentially the worst hurt imaginable. She preferred the bite of the bitter though. Easier to navigate. 

“I have someone I want you to meet with.” 

“Oh, fuck off Sadie,” Quinn moaned, knowing full well what was about to happen. “I’m not talking to anyone. You’re the face of this outfit. That’s what you told me.” 

“You’ve run off three other reporters. Our public offering is going to underperform if there is no faith in the heart of our company,” she explained, sitting up a little straighter. “And that’s you. I might crunch the numbers and keep the lights on, but you are what people are buying.”

“Then you tell them about me. I don’t even have to be there.”

“If only that were true, my job would be a lot easier.” 

At a stalemate, the sisters stared at each other for a few moments before Sadie broke, making a face as she smiled towards her lap, running her hand over the smallest bump barely showing. Quinn shook her head and looked away. Anywhere else was better than the damn disapproving look leveled at her now. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Quinn finally muttered. “I don’t want to-- I can’t--”

“Chloe was an idiot. She broke your heart. Now, you barely exist, but I know that you’re still you. And we need this.” 

“I can’t. I really can’t. I wish you’d get it.” 

It hurt too much all over again. In a weird way, Quinn missed the feeling of the hangover because at least that was a useful ache. The dull throbbing in her chest and bones just felt hollow and haunting. 

“We have a meeting with her. I’ve already walked her through the contracts and final edits, as well as shown her around. Please just rip the bandaid off and get it over with. She’s good. I’ve read a few of her pieces and Donna recommended her to me.” 

Sadie had their mother’s eyes. It drove Quinn crazy, that she looked like she didn’t belong in her own family. It also meant it felt like her mom was staring at her and reminding her to do her chores. She rubbed the back of her neck, letting her head lull to the side. 

“I’ll… I’ll try.” 

“Yes! I knew it. Thank you. Seriously, Q. It’s going to be great. This is going to--”

“I said I’ll try. I didn’t say I’d do it.” 

“It’ll be great,” Sadie ignored the warning, hopping up from her chair and moving to the door to beckon the reporter in. “Come in and meet the genius of the whole outfit.” 

Quinn rubbed her face with her hands, digging her fingers into the corners of her eyes under her glasses before steadying herself. She could do it for her sister, she reminded herself, and that stupid niece or nephew she was incubating. 

Maybe it would be as simple as ripping off a band-aid. Maybe she could just let a stranger rifle through her entire life and being, except that she wasn’t sure there was anything there anymore. Everything felt like she was going through the motions, and it was terrifying to Quinn to let someone see that she was barely stitched together. How could she explain that there was nothing behind door number one? Let alone number two or number three. 

“Quinn, this is Lucy Madani. She’s a freelancer hired by New York Magazine. She did a great piece on the Attorney General last month and her article on the director who went on to win Cannes went viral.” 

There was still mud on her skirt, but her stockings had been disbanded, gone forever, but it was unmistakable the stranger from the elevator standing in her office. That felt like an entire lifetime ago, and yet Quinn tried to swallow. 

“You have longer hair, in the pictures I found of you online,” Lucy offered, overcoming her surprise much quicker. She stuck out her hand over Quinn’s desk and waited for her to shake it. 

She was a reporter. A reporter who cried in the elevator. A reporter Quinn had, if she were being honest, checked out. But foremost, she was a reporter. She wanted to dive into the deepest parts of Quinn’s brain for profit, mutual benefit and all. It sounded dreadful. 

The universe did not owe her anything, Quinn remembered, but the perpetual mocking was getting a little over the top. 

“Quinn Sullivan,” she shook the hand presented and tried to breathe. Lucy’s hand was warm and felt soft. She wasn’t sure how to let go. “How’s it going?” 

Fuck! Her mind blared as she dropped the reporter’s hand and mentally beat herself to a pulp. Who talked like that? And still, she could not answer, winked?

“It’s been a day,” she smiled, nodding to herself as she accepted the seat Quinn offered. “Your sister has sung your praises all morning though. I feel like I could write about your without even meeting you.”

“Great. Let’s do that.” 

Sadie laughed but gave Quinn a stern look. 

“I’m going to go grab you some passes and copies of the contracts,” Sadie smiled graciously at Lucy before turning to her sister. “Listen to her pitch.” 

“Seems it’s been decided,” she muttered to herself before plastering on a smile. 

“Don’t have too much fun. I’ll be right back.” 

And with that she truly was gone, and Quinn was left in her office with the reporter who had pretty eyes. They felt like syrup-- warm and deep brown, gooey and sticky. Her face was longer, her nose thin and long, her lips full and bitten-- and Quinn snapped herself out of her perusal and felt her chest warm too much. No, the universe didn’t owe her anything, and the punishment for thinking it did was sitting across from her in a muddy skirt and gentle smile.

For just a moment, Quinn held her breath and willed a coma..

[shyrose57]

AU(s) where all the mod videos Tommy does, along with some other videos, are all alternate universes, and their residents end up in the SMP. Chaos ensues. 

Voice Mod AU:

Universe where nobody talks aloud. They telepathically communicate, and the closer you are, the clearer and louder you are, unless you have the control the lower your mental voice.

Why?

Post-apocalyptic world(because Tommy said welcome to the new world at the start, and I too that and ran with it). They’re the new versions of humans, created after life returned on the planett, and the telepathy is a survival method, because outward noise draws predators, inner noise does not. 

This also means they possibly have some other features similar to that. Like maybe Quackity’s duck wings being from some newly evolved duck species in the new world, Wilbur being a bit abnormally tall, or similar. I’m not sure. 

Oh hey, no, Wilbur can be like a tree hybrid or something, cause Treebur. 

Basically, evolution and telepathy.

Wilbur has a horse named Bert, he is speedy, and spends just as much time dragging his owner out of trouble than he does riding him into it.

The gang is basically just traveling the lands, exploring what’s about.

There are fish-horses, ender-horses, spider-horses, silverfish ponies, and horses that are somewhat like a breed between llamas and sheep in the world.

There are a lot of new horse breeds.

The Quackity of this universe wears clothes a lot like Manhunt Dream’s, hoodie-wise, but it’s all bright blue, and his mask has the :] face on it.

Size Mod AU:

Universe where people can shift and change sizes, though only to certain ones.

For example, Wilbur’s stuck small. He can shift to the size of a small dog, height wise, or that of a flower, but he can’t get big. Quackity can go smaller than Wilbur, or literally bigger than the Enderdragon. Both Tommy can be normal sized, or big, and Phil’s can be about the size of a tree, or become the size of a small mountain. 

They all live in a nice house in the plains and spend their time terrorizing the locals.

Wilbur has a little house within the house, and he uses his size to cause havoc more often than not. Quackity is equally guilty of this.

Sometimes when the kids are being particularly bad, Phil puts the smaller ones in a compost bin and holds Tommy off the ground until he starts behaving. 

Quackity’s a follower of the Blood God. Not to Techno’s length, but he goes and kills rabbits for him, and dedicates the chaos his giant form causes to the guy. In return, the four always have a flourishing harvest, and Quackity’s absolutely mean in battle. 

Wilbur sleeps in one of Tommy’s old shoes that he stole and made into a bed.

Honestly, Wilbur’s kind of like the house mouse. He steals stuff and vibes in his little home in the walls. The cats that occasionally slip in try to eat him a lot too.

Wilbur and Quackity are bird hybrids, Tommy’s a zombie hybrid(cause he’s fighting a zombie and saying ‘I burn’ at that little bit), and Phil’s an iron golem hybrid.

Quackity and WIlbur have little bird-houses set up around the area for them to dart into and hide if anything comes after them.

They all met when tiny Q and Wilbur tried to rob Tommy and Phil. They succeeded with Tommy, but Phil was less than impressed at the attempt. Somehow it resulted in them all sharing a house.

Dragon Mod AU:

Universe set in more medieval-themed world. Phil, Quackity, and Tommy are dragon hunters. Wilbur’s a mischievous dragon sorcerer who enjoys shapeshifting into a dragon to mess with people. The hunters were originally sent after him, but spent more time frantically running for their lives while he laughed at them.

Wilbur’s actually good friends with the actual Enderdragon, who he calls Keithette. It was with her blessing that he decided to pick on the hunters.

He just spends all of his time messing with them. That’s all he does. He messes with them. It’s originally more malicious, which means they had a ridiculous amount of deaths, but they eventually all grew fond of each other, so now it’s more playful. 

He helps them find treasure and scares off rivals. 

Tommy’s a trained medic. 

Quackity and Wilbur are...something? It’s a Skephalo situation. They could just be very affectionate friends, or they could be dating, or they could be messing with everyone. Nobody knows, and everytime they think they’ve figured it out, the two seem to magically know and do something to throw them off.

They’ve confused many, many people with their antics. 

(They’re probably messing with people though, because they definitely know what they’re doing)

When the actual Enderdragon and her egg mysteriously went missing, Wilbur rounded up his friends and asked for their help in finding her-so now the group is on a quest to find her and return her to the End.

Natural Disaster Mod AU:

Universe where world ending natural disasters just keep happening. It killed off a lot of people, but honestly, at this point, it’s been going on for years, and those that remain are pretty used to it.

Tubbo and Wilbur are followers of the Mule God, and were brought together by him. Jack and Tommy are two good friends who came together to survive. And Phil’s a top-tier survivalist who keeps an eye on the four, mostly because he’d feel bad if they died too often while they live in the area.

Though they’re all three different groups, they stick together and help each other out.

Tommy and Tubbo were childhood friends before the disasters separated them. A young Jack found Tommy and took him in, and Tubbo was saved and blessed by the Mule God. They’re still friends, but have somewhat grown apart with their differing lifestyles. 

Tommy’s a penguin hybrid. 

Tubbo and Wilbur have been known to try and scam people passing by, and they have tried this with everyone in the area too-the difference is the ones who stick around know better than to buy it. 

Whenever Tommy wants to hang out, he declares he’s rescuing Tubbo, and steals him from whatever he’s doing. Wilbur has long since accepted that occasionally Tubbo is going to be stolen, and doesn’t even blink anymore. 

Tommy wears green, and Tubbo wears red. 

Storm riding is a favored sport of Tubbo’s, where you grab a hang glider and get swept up into the storm. Jack hates it, but often gets dragged along anyway. 

Morph Mod AU:

Universe where shapeshifters are more common, and Tommy, Charlie, Phil, Schlatt, and Wilbur are all a clan of them. 

They co-exist with humans, and actually protect the local villages they live close too. 

They also spend a lot of time messing with people outside said villages, but that’s unimportant. 

Charlie and Wilbur prefer to be aquatic creatures. while Phil transforms into whatever works better for the environment he’s in. Schlatt just does whatever, and Tommy usually sticks to human form, only shifting when he’s bored or he needs too. 

Wilbur tried to transform into a horse once, while in fish form. He’s not sure what exactly happened, but long story short, he’s the reason for the myth of the hippocampus.

They have a house in the village, one out, and then general little areas meant for them in animal form. 

Because shapeshifters are strongly group-oriented, they prefer to shift in pairs or groups. Charlie and Wilbur typically pair up, as do Schlatt and Tommy. Philza doesn’t really have that instinct as strongly, so he just stays close to them instead. 

Laser Eye Mod AU:

Universe set in a futuristic setting, where, due to an ancient void deity becoming malicious, Tommy, Phil, Charlie, and Wilbur are selected to become plasma wielding cyber warriors(futuristic magical girls, basically) to fight back against such threats.

These four’s cybernetics were embued with magic to produce specific plasma that would be effective against threats.

Phil wields divine plasma, and it’s fired out from his cybernetic wings, which were implanted as a military experiment. He can even detach a feather to act as a plasma covered sword.

Tommy wields phoenix plasma, and it’s fired out of his cybernetic eyes, which were transplanted into him when he was in an accident young, rendering him blind. They allow him to see by scanning out the outlines of objects and areas, and feeding the image into his brain.

Wilbur wields soulfire plasma, which is fired from his prosthetic legs, which have a kind of mermaid-motif, with fins and all, and make him a fast swimmer.

And Charlie wields greekfire plasma, fired from his cybernetic arm-it can also fire slime-like globs that rapidly grow and incase the area they’re attached too. 

Wilbur was actually the first selected for the program, but he went missing shortly after, stolen and controlled by the void deity, who turned him into quite the obstacle for the others.

They eventually rescued him from it’s control, and after he recovered, he joined the fight. 

Endermen and endermen hybrids are common minions of the void deity-it seems to have End-based origins, being able to control them.

Lava Ravine Mod AU:

Universe where Phil, Charlie, Wilbur, and Tommy are all strangers, who get a mysterious invite to an unknown world. It seems like a lovely vacation at first, strangers aside, but things turn deadly when a seemingly normal ravine in the ground begins to grow, the lava inside it begins to rise, and our heroes find themselves unable to leave the world.

They soon realized they may have been selected for their ability to survive, but to do that, they’re going to have to all work together.

Tommyinnit originates from the world of RLcraft, Phil grew up in Hardcore Mode, Charlie is a fallen god from a world of chaos, and Wilbur has lived through a world like this before.

They build a giant glass and stone dome, and live within there, using their various skills to survive. 

Wilbur pretty much knows how this world works to a T, and is able to predict when the lava will raise and how quickly. He knows how to survive and work around the heat.

Tommy and Phil have a variety of skills from their lives before, not limited to first aid and cooking.

And Charlie’s got a bit of godly power he can put to good use here, as well as many out-of-the-box ideas for what to do.

Charlie brought a card-game from his old world, and teaches Wilbur how to play. It becomes a favorite past time of theirs. 

Jump Mod AU:

Universe where enhanced individuals have recently begun to exist. Tommy, Wilbur, and Quackity are some of many who choose to use their new abilities for their own gain, becoming thieves. They were taken under the wing of master thief Philza, who was in the game long before he gained his new powers.

Or, well, they were thieves. A job gone wrong resulted in them being caught by authorities, and forced into a deal. Once thieves for their own gain, now they’re agents for the government, stealing back what was stolen from their country. 

All of them are generally more physically enhanced, with agility, endurance, and all that jazz. But they also have other abilities. 

Tommy’s faster than anyone. Wilbur can refract light, essentially becoming invisible. Phil can communicate with birds. And Quackity can change the density of anything he touches, himself excluded. 

Philza was actually caught because he stayed behind for his new partners. He had realized someone was looking into them, and didn’t want the younger ones going into that alone. 

TNT Mod AU:

Universe where everyone is a mob hybrid, and they live divided in tribes. Tommy, Phil, Charlie, and Wilbur are a tribe/keg of creeper hybrids, who protect their territory, and cause havoc for any trespassers who happens upon them.

No one dares settle there, because these four are just as likely to swear a village’s protection as they are to laugh as they set it ablaze. It’s purely up to how they feel at the moment, finicky keg that they are. 

However, there is a reason some do venture here. 

Every tribe/(name for grouping of specific mob) guards a certain treasure. For the creeper boys, it’s an orchard of apple trees that grow, not only red apples, but gold ones too-and rarely, a god apple.

If you do happen to stumble upon their territory unintentionally, your best bet is to appeal to Wilbur, as he does have a soft spot for people-of course, you’ll need to make sure none of the others think you’re taking advantage of that soft spot, lest they slowly and painfully kill you for even considering it.

Creepers are very friendly to them, and see them as one of their own. Other mobs, not so much.

The orchard is surrounded by a dense forest, that’s abruptly lets up to a clearing that rings around it. This is where the keg lives, in high tree houses all connected to one another.

Their forest is their pride and joy, and it’s filled with many exotic trees and plants from around the world. Bringing them an addition for it is a sure way to assure your survival, and even gain an alliance, if it’s a really good addition.

Likewise, messing it up even slightly will immediately get you murdered.

Black Hole Mod AU:

Universe where the sun exploded and became a black hole that’s slowly consuming the world. Though many perished, some survived, with the advanced technology in the future.

Wilbur, Charlie, Phil, and Tommy are some of those survivors. 

Charlie is a scientist, studying the black hole to see if there’s anyway to perhaps stop it, or survive within it once it consumes them.

Phil’s a former mercenary who came to the lab with Tommy, after finding the young student stumbling about the remains of a city.

Wilbur’s the former on-board scientist from the crew that first encountered the black hole. He was originally presumed dead, but suddenly reappeared one day, and was found nearby by Phil, who dragged him to the lab. He’s...different. He’s seen things.

Charlie and Wilbur graduated from the same university, and were actually working in the same lab before Wilbur joined his crew in space for an up-close study.

Philza has a bad habit of adopting any creature he finds, and it’s become something of a joke by the four. He adopted Tommy, he’s adopted Wilbur and Charlie, and he has quite a few birds and other creatures that followed him back.

Body Shuffle Mod AU:

Universe where glitches a common sight, and humanity has evolved alongside them.

The world basically...well, I wouldn’t say revolves around? But glitches are a large part of life at this point, and players have specifically evolved to be able to work with them.

A common glitch includes the Body Glitch, where random body parts will seemingly vanish off a person without causing them harm or effecting them.

Tommy and Charlie are Takers, people who have a special, glitch-specific gene that allows them to take a glitch effecting a being or item, and pull that effect from said being/item, and upon themselves.

They’re equally loved and hated, considering the rarity of the gene, and what uses it could be employed for.

The two have a business that they use this ability to take and relocate glitches for various purposes.

Philza and Wilbur are the two’s bodyguards turned friends, who protect them from less savory people, and suss out the ones with bad intentions.

Gas Mod AU:

Universe set in a modern fantasy world where a mysterious gas suddenly overtook the planet. Many died. A few survived-but for some of them, that was the crueler fate, as the mysterious gas began to make them monsterous creatures that sought flesh and blood.

Tommy, Charlie, Phil and Wilbur are the scattered survivors in a city overtaken by the gas, banding together to fight back the monsters born from the green fog, and stay alive. 

Wilbur was formerly a cartographer on a ship. He’s also half siren, and his most priceless possession is a diamond dagger given to him by his former captain.

Charlie is a doctor, as well as a wizard. His magic pet is a slime-like dragon. Yeah, he’s not sure where the little guy came from either.

Phil got a whole cocktail of heritage, but most are sky-related, so he’s got a strong grasp on air magic, which he uses to create safe bubbles for the gang to breathe freely.

And Tommy’s a low tier human-turned demon after death- an imp, basically. He causes havoc.

They all have to wear gas mask, which are heavily enchanted to keep the gas from affecting them.

The group basically just has a weirdly domestic life in the abandoned city, after they cleared out an abandoned apartment building to chill in.

Surgery Mod:

Universe where the gang are the experiments of a mad scientist having escaped.

Tommy is a poison-based experiment, Wilbur is a Nether-based one, Philza is an End-based experiment, and Charlie is an Over-world based one.

They were all grouped together in a cell because the older three are part of the Dimension Project, and Tommy accidentally imprinted on Wilbur when he was created, meaning he would have died if he was separated from him.

The four eventually decide that they hate this life, and stage a break out with the rest of the guys experiments. 

Once they escaped, they decided to travel the world as a family, exploring everything they’d never had the chance to see, and finding where they belonged in this place.

Lava Floor Mod AU:

Universe where all the oceans in the world have been replaced by lava. For Ninja, Tommy, Wilbur, and George, their get-along vacation goes south when they’re stranded alone on a chain of distant islands, far from any sign of civilization. 

If they ever hope to survive, they’ll have to put their issues to the side and work together to get to the one place unaffected-the Nether.

Tommy ‘Smokes’ Notfound, and Wilbur ‘Soot’ Fortnite are the two children of the struggling couple George ‘Specs’ Notfound and Ninja ‘Bow’ Fortnite, who haven’t seen each other in years, despite still being married.

The two, knowing how close their kids were, agree to meet up so the two can hang out, which is why they ended up on this vacation on the first place. 

Wilbur and Smokes would really appreciate if their parents could get along too-it’d make vacation a lot nicer without all the tension. And yes, they could worry about all the oceans turning to lava, but they won’t. Instead, they’re going to be gremlins who try to get their parents to make up, whether that means divorce, or becoming a happy couple again.

Rising Void Mod AU:

Universe where the planets are being eaten by the void. Tommy, Philza, and Quackity are all aliens who managed to escape the demise of their home planets, and crashed landed on Earth, with the intention of warning them of what was coming.

Unfortunately, the only guy around for miles is Ranboo, a conspiracy theorist who prefers his isolated mountain cabin to the city...and also is in complete denial about the existence of aliens, even if they’re standing right in front of him. 

Quackity is from a planet where ores and gems have a large part of fashion culture.

Tommy’s planet was the first to fall. However, Quackity was the one who was closest to be touching, and it leaves side effects-like him occasionally hearing it’s eldritch whispering calling for him to surrender himself to it and stop fighting-

But, y’know. It’s fine. It’s all good.

(Although he does happen to be the most aware of their inevitable fate, and uses humor to cope with the knowledge that no matter how hard they try, he and these people he’s grown to care for are going to die, and there’s absolutely no way to stop that)

Sky Grid Mod AU

Universe where Ranboo is a young, lonely god born to a grid-formed world. Though he has made many interesting creations, he decides he wants someone like him. Who can listen, and answer, and love, and hate.

And the universe loves him, so it answers.

It finds two souls who’ve died too young, and puts them into his hands to mold as he wishes. One, he creates in colors of green, like grass, and emeralds, and poison alike. The other, he creates in colors of red, like lava and poppies, and warm beds.

Their names are Tubbo and Tommy, and they’re different than what he thought they’d be. They cannot be controlled or remade, but they can bleed, and they can laugh, and most importantly, they can make choices.

And they choose to love him, taking him in their embrace as a friend, treating him kindly, and as one of their own, regardless of his power or abilities. 

The three make a home in the gridded world, finding themselves and never fearing the fall, because the world loves both it’s godling, and the people made within it.

Terraforming The Moon AU:

Universe where the remains of humanity have fled to the moon upon the destruction of earth. They unintentionally awake age-old space deities, who, luckily for them, feel like lending a hand-mostly. 

Wilbur is the only actual deity of the moon, but the rest of the SBI spend more time there than they don’t, because humans are interesting.

Tommy’s the youngest god, a deity of the stars within their young galaxy-it’s a position that was passed onto him by the former star deity, Clara.

Technoblade is the deity of both Mars and Venus. He’s actually been to Earth a few times before it’s destruction, and finds their cultures fascinating-particularly the Greek and Romans.

Philza is the god of the End. The oldest, he’s not just a deity, he’s a primordial of the end of all things. Truthfully, it was the very end of Earth that awoke him from his slumber, and it’s former inhabitants interesting lives that keep him awake.

They all pick a human to favor, and help out. Changes on the day.

Honestly, they aren’t necessarily malicious? They don’t really consider the fact that humans don’t have the same limitations and powers as them, so occasionally they fuck something up that somebody worked hard on, and don’t understand why they don’t just fix it already, not realizing that the humans actually have to take awhile to do that.

One Hundred Player Laboratory AU:

Universe set in modern time. 

Wilbur and Technoblade are two university students trying to do a study for their finals-unfortunately, the rats they were supposed to use are both oddly sentient, and incredibly chaotic.

Techno and Wilbur are doing a study of behavior, and other scientific things. To do this, Techno has built a large, complex maze/building thing.

And Wilbur purchased a bunch of rats-except, he probably should have been a bit more careful who he bought from, becomes these rats definitely understand human speech, are all not normally colored, and desire to be as annoying and detrimental to their grades as possible.

To put it lightly, it’s not going well.

George’s If You Laugh You Lose Rematch AU:

Universe set in a chaotic, light-hearted world.

Sapnap, Karl, George, and Dream are some of the world’s residents.

Karl and Dream are chaotic shapeshifters who enjoy messing with George.

Sapnap’s a mischievous nether spirit who likes to team up and help them do it.

Karl can shift into objects, and Dream can turn into animals. 

The whole world is comedic, and all it’s residents have a permanent case of the giggles-to the point of making a game of how long one can hold off laughing.

Sapnap usually takes the form of an enderman or enderman hybrid 

[palettepainter]

Komori and Dangan development idea, food for thought 18

An idea I had while on holiday and something I might make cannon

So while Dangan and Komori occasionally fight and have the urge to sometimes kill each other with how annoying they can both be, they both have respect for each other.

The day Komori’s quirk finally kicked in was pretty scaring to her as a child, her quirk itself activated at five (her vampire fangs grew, her eyes became sharper as did her hearing, a sensitivity to ligh, etc..), but it wasn’t until Komori was six did she and her family realize what her quirk was. Komori’s quirk I’ve decided is Vampire, she’s a real vampire that needs a generous amount of blood from some living creature so that she won’t go kooky. 

The first time she actually drank the blood of something it was from her brothers pet rabbit, obviously leaving a big scar on her brother and herself. Since there weren’t as many options for quirk therapy and such when Komori and Akarui where little Komori was forced to basically suck it up and hope she didn’t snap like that again. Komori spent most of her childhood as a troubled youth, very temperamental and blunt (a lack of blood affects her mood, the more she drinks the more she feels like herself. She can temporarily dampen the urge to drink blood with food but she needs to eat a lot to do this). As an adult, with her singing career taking off she’s finally able to afford a specially made wine with blood in it (not human blood, Komori has never drank human blood. There have been times where she’s gotten dangerously close, but never has. Instead she has her “red wine” made from pigs, cows and sheep blood). She keeps this special wine stocked in her wine cellar, it’s the only room in the house she has banned Ectoplasm and his family from entering

Dangan, similar to Komori, also has typical snake like behaviors: He hisses to smell (he does have a nose but his tongue is sensitive like a snakes), his tail will rattle if he’s feeling threatened, his diet consists mostly of birds (coocked chicken, turkey, duck) and other meat dishes, he can unhinge his jaw and in winter will hord blankets in his home and make a somewhat “nest” if you will to keep warm. And Dangan, unlike Komori, does not give a toss what others think. Dangan to many peoples surprise, actually loves who he is and his quirk, he’s learnt to not care what others opinions are of him, if he’s happy why should he care?? Komori chalks it up to him having zero shame as Dangan quit literally will sometimes eat mice, Magakure swore him off eating rodents in the house when he made toddler Taiho cry when he ate a little field mouse infront of him

Dangan as a kid did get in trouble with police so I imagine as an adult that behaviour never really left, it just kinda mellowed out, he’s more careful now.

Quirk clubs are already a thing I believe in the MHA, and Dangan prolly frequents them a lot. Quirk clubs are a bit of a taboo subject, they’re considered illegal in most countries (including Japan) but quirk clubs have also been shown to keep some crime rates down as people now have a place to use their destructive quirks out of the way of the public. Quirk clubs kind of slip under the radar but most heroes do not approve of them. Ectoplasm and Powerloader are some of those hereos, they believe that with the resources they have today - with quirk therapy and centers - that there are more safer ways to help with quirks.

One day Komori is somehow convinced to go to one of these quirk clubs with Dangan - the quirks are all underground, the structures previously used as emergency escape bunkers if villains ever attacked, but since Higari’s home town gets basically zero villain attacks (at least serious villain attacks) the tunnels are basically never used. Komori is apprehensive at first, not wanting to admit that she’s dying to just drop the fancy shmancy act and just hound down on a roast hog like a ruffian. Dangan eggs her on, obviously knowing she wants to let loose and eventually, she does. Komori ends up tearing into the said roast hog like an animal, and then feels unfathomable shame right after.

Dangan, to her surprise, tells her bluntly yet with a bit of kindness that no one gives a toss how she eats, it’s a quirk club for a reason.

Komori goes full on bat - she’s in her giant ass bat form, swallowing whole joints of chicken, lamb and pig whole, drinking her heart away, crawling on the ceiling, and she had FUN! After the experience her and Dangan grow respect for each other - Komori respecting and even admiring his care free attitude on life and Dangan respecting her resilience for wanting to keep a good image for her family and career despite her quirk 

Then maybe later down the line Ectoplasm and Higari find out their aunt and uncle are attending a quirk club and family drama ensues

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

An egg-cellent day for an adventure

It's another fun filled day of baking sweet treats at the camp as we've got a surplus of eggs to use up. Good thing Emilia decided to drop by along with her daughter Michele Toni for a well deserved mother-daughter weekend. I was hoping for the day when Emilia would stop by for a visit and now she's here!

(Psstt... Andrea, Selene, Paget, Lena, Rini, Malka, Kate, Annie, and Luciana- camp's open all year round for visitors so if you can, come on over!)

Along with collecting eggs scattered across the camp and making baked goods, Emilia's also filming a travel-style vlog for her channel Emilia Eats. She mainly does recipe videos with an occasional vlog, something she's been doing for about ten years now. Along with making videos Emilia runs a local catering company of the same name.

I've always loved Emilia's cooking and baking - it's one of the many things I look forward to when I visit home - second to my mom's, of course. Also I love her videos as she's got a sweet personality that makes me feel enthusiastic about baking. I've saved a lot of her recipes for reference and sometimes I just like watching her videos just to see old friends like Serena, Tony, and Michele.

I'm glad to see Emilia in a much better place. We caught up a bit at the wedding, where I got to know Michele Toni a bit more as well as catch up with her dad. The past few years have been rough on them but now it looks like things are finally settling down for Emilia and Mr. Phillips.

Little Michele Toni's so cute, she's almost like a mini-me of Emilia. Hard to believe she's a toddler now and it's so cute seeing her take an interest in baking! I always love seeing her "cooking" alongside her mom in various videos.

Around the time before Michele Toni was born, Emilia was going through a rough time. Up until then, the Phillips-Conrad family were a happy bunch. The family had a bit of unwanted publicity as Mr. Phillips was, and still is, a big name in town, so the fact that he, a white man, adopted two young black girls was something the media wanted to dig up dirt on. Truth is, there was nothing to stir up - Emilia and Michele's mom and Mr. Phillips were good friends and he was always like a father figure to the girls. Both didn't have much living family so they assigned each other as godparents to their kids.

For years they were a happy family - Emilia, Tony, and Michele. Tony was the one who helped Emilia get started with her channel, teaching her how to film and edit videos as well as get more views. Michele was the one who helped Emilia come up with recipe ideas and in the videos where she's featured, the two would often talk about their mom. Emilia always spoke fondly of her as did Tony while Michele would listen intently when the two told stories of the past. Those videos are always bittersweet to watch, especially now that Tony and Michele are gone.

Things changed when Tony went off to college, traveling abroad and rarely coming home. Michele also went abroad and later got caught up in a hectic, stressful lifestyle, leaving Emilia in Rosevine balancing her life as a baker and a Galaxy Fighter. We all had a feeling that Tony and Michele were going to leave while Emilia stayed so it was expected that the three would go their separate ways. They were still a close knit family though - none of us suspected that something was wrong.

The deaths of Tony and Michele were a huge shock to the community. Both were struggling with alcoholism and drug addiction as their lives took a toll on them. Tony died from a drug overdose and Michele drove off a bridge, both were at their lowest point due to unlucky breaks. Then months later Serena died in the Crystal Shadow War so in that time span Emilia lost her siblings and best friend.

It was a difficult time for everyone. I was also going through some rough patches myself so you can imagine how bad it was. Pretty much everyone I knew from home was going through a terrible time because the universe somehow decided to be a dick and throw all these tragedies at us.

Thankfully, those days are behind us. Months later I opened the camp, Emilia and the other Galaxy Fighters had their spirit revived thanks to a band of adventurers - I guess you can say the darkest hour is just before dawn. Not everything's perfect right now, but we're all doing a lot better, and that's what matters.

Along with some new friends sort of turning Rosevine upside down, Emilia was in for another unexpected turn. Not too long after Serena's death, Emilia started seeing some guy who wasn't good for her. Then Michele Toni was born and she was probably the best thing to ever happen for her mom and grandpa in light of the tragedies that plagued them. It wasn't until last year when Michele Toni made appearances on Emilia's channel and stole the show. Seeing the two of them bake together makes me so happy - and I'm glad that Emilia finally feels comfortable embracing her role as a mom.

Michele Toni had a lot of fun bringing us eggs she found while exploring the camp, her favorite place being the beach. Emilia says her favorite hangout spot is Sunburst Island because it reminds her of her family's summer home in Watercolor Vineyards. I've never been there but from how she, Tony, and Michele described it, the island sounds beautiful!

While sightseeing and scavenging for eggs, Emilia filmed for her vlog and caught me and Daisy Jane  up on everything that's been going on at home. Selene, Arianne, and Vitoria are up to the usual, their latest adventure happened to be with Team Magic involving smoke screens, zombies, and frozen tidal waves. Kate's got a big tennis match coming up while Malka has a concert in a couple weeks. Rini and her grandma are doing well, running the shrine as usual and planning for their yearly spring trip to Tranquility Falls. Lena and Annie are busy at the hospital saving lives and helping others. Paget's doing all right, holding her own, taking it one day at a time. Andrea and Robin are doing their best too, keeping up with Selene and the others. Luciana's checking in on everyone as usual, coming to the rescue in the nick of time.

Hunting for eggs was a lot of fun! Emilia showed off her powers a little for the campers. As a Galaxy Fighter, she's Guardian Cyclone and her powers involve manipulating air into wind, creating powerful blasts that can be as strong as a hurricane. Since a good batch of the eggs are in hard to reach places (Why, Zipper, why?), it's a good thing we have Emilia here to help her out because she's currently the tallest person here right now, she's an agile climber, and can use her powers to drop eggs that are impossible to reach. In a stroke of luck, not a single egg was broken - and we were kinda rough with them.

Once we were satisfied with the amount of eggs we collected (maybe not satisfied but you can only collect so many eggs before you get annoyed by them popping up everywhere you go), it's time to get cooking! For savory dishes we made a bunch of quiches to put many of the eggs to good use and so we can freeze them for later. We made a bunch of different kinds - spinach and feta, four cheese, kimchi, salmon and cream cheese, shakshouka, garden veggies, sausage - it's a good thing we labeled everything! Of course, we used Emilia's trusty old recipe for a buttery, flaky crust that's not only delicious, but easy to make and freezes well.

The desserts was where we went all out. I happened to score a nice bargain with a barrel full of perfect peaches so we made a lovely pie with those. Daisy Jane taught us how to make egg tarts, a sweet treat I haven't had in forever. Coco made carrot cake cheesecake bars, Claude baked a giant quadruple chocolate mousse cake, and Dora made a lovely assortment of digestive biscuits to go with freshly brewed tea. Emilia made up a recipe on the spot - lemon vanilla cardamon bars - which turned out really good.

Since the lemon vanilla cardamon bars were such a hit, Emilia's gonna make a recipe video of it - at the camp. I still can't believe that Daisy Jane and I are gonna be on Emilia Eats - first for the vlog, now a recipe video! It's taken her years but Emilia plans to get most, if not all, her friends to appear on her channel. She plans to get Team Magic on next as she's planning a video with Mariposa and Skully, developing a recipe with Angie, figuring out what she wants to do with Luna that won't blow up the kitchen, and waiting on Pippa and Willow.

I can't wait to see what Emilia Eats has in store because Emilia's been knocking it out of the park lately! Her videos have always been consistently good but in the past few months she's been putting a lot more heart into it. Even when times were tough, Emilia always managed to put on a brave face. I remember watching her videos during those times, how despite everything that was going on, Emilia continued making recipes. We all have our different ways of coping with grief and hers was to continue with business as usual, which can be a good and bad thing.

Hanging out with her and watching her play with Michele Toni, I know for sure that Emilia's going to be all right. We can't undo the past and bring back lost loved ones, but we can carry on. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I think I see a little bit of Michele Toni's aunt and uncle in her. She's definitely got her mom's heart and spirit.

After a fun day of collecting eggs and baking, it's time for a well deserved bonfire dinner of quiches, seafood chowder, and freshly baked sourdough bread. Then tomorrow will be more egg hunting, baking, filming, and good old camping fun!

[roundtheworldrambles]

Hanoi, Vietnam

Day 165 – Luang Prabang to Hanoi, Vietnam

I spent my final morning in Luang Prabang at Joma Café, a delicious bakery/café that my uncle Alan had recommended, run by a Canadian expat! I was surprised (and very excited) that the café served Canada’s famous Nanaimo Bar, and picked up one to have a ‘taste of home’ along with my coffee. I tucked into a cozy booth for several hours, doing research and bookings for the final 5 weeks of my trip, including Vietnam, Cambodia, Bangkok and Japan.

In the late afternoon, I packed up my bag and headed to the town centre to hire a Tuk Tuk to take me to the airport. At this point in Southeast Asia, I had become pretty used to negotiating a price when taking a Tuk Tuk, and agreed upon a price with the driver. However, he ended up demanding a higher price at the airport, after we had arrived. Even after months of travel, I was still never quite sure what to do in these situations, which occasionally arose. Given the increased charge that the driver demanded was little more than 50c Canadian, it felt petty to argue over such a small amount. At the same time, the whole practice also felt dishonest, and I struggled with it in principle – particularly wondering in the back of my mind whether I was a target of arbitrary price increases because I was a woman travelling alone. Irritated but not wanting to argue, I grudgingly paid the full amount and headed into the airport to catch my flight to Hanoi.

After a short flight to the east, I touched down in Vietnam just as the sun was setting. Having secured my e-visa to the country in advance, I sailed through customs and into the arrivals hall, where I had pre-arranged an airport transfer to take me into the old town of the city. While I generally preferred to take public transit or hail a tuk-tuk when backpacking, I had become cautious with my transportation when arriving at airports after dark. From my research on Hanoi, I had heard that taxi scams are unfortunately common, where certain drivers are paid by hotels and hostels to drive unwitting passengers to the wrong location, or charge excessive fares, to the point where a passenger would need to go to an ATM, or pay in foreign currency. In the communication I had received in advance from my hostel in Hanoi, I had also been fully briefed on possible scams in transit, and chose to pre-pay for a transfer to avoid the worry. I had also purchased a new Vietnamese SIM card in the airport, so that I could ensure I could follow my route to the old town city.

As my ride pulled away from the airport, we were almost immediately surrounded by scooters – hundreds of them! Weaving in and out of traffic, the drivers leaned heavily on their horns as they navigated their scooters along the road - carrying everything from tall plants, flowers and produce, and sometimes up to 3-4 people! After the quiet atmosphere of Luang Prabang, where honking was rare in the old city centre, the streets of Hanoi were quite the opposite, bursting with sounds from every direction. Heading South, we crossed the Red River and approached the Old Quarter of the city.

As it happened, even with my pre-arranged airport transfer, my driver still tried to drop me off at the wrong hostel. Fortunately I had already located my correct destination in Hanoi on Google Maps, and after much back-and-forth, and insistence on my part, I was finally taken to the correct destination. The streets of the old quarter are so narrow that cars cannot go down them, and I walked the final few minutes to my hostel on foot. I passed other hostels with live music, and food vendors with plastic stools arranged near their stalls for people to sit and eat. My friends from Vancouver, Kevin and Liane, had previously stayed at this hostel, Original Backpackers, a few years earlier, and recommended it highly – and rightly so! I felt immediately welcomed by the friendly staff, and began to relax again after many hours in transit. After several weeks of communal living, I had decided to pay a small premium for a private room, where I had a long, hot shower, before crashing immediately for the night.

Typical Food Stalls in the Old Quarter

Narrow Streets in the Old Quarter, with a perfectly placed photobomber!

Day 166 – Hanoi

I only had one full day in Hanoi – and woke up early, determined to pack in as much as possible! Through the front desk of my hostel, I arranged a motorbike “Backstreet Tour” for that afternoon, where a local Vietnamese guide would take me around the city on a motorbike to show me both popular sites, and what day-to-day life looked like in Hanoi.

In the morning, I began to wander the Old Quarter of Hanoi nearby to my hostel. This historic city has been inhabited for over a thousand years, and has been shaped by a complex history – from ancient kingdoms, dynasties and wars, French colonialism, Japanese occupation during the second world war, to more recently, with the influences of communism and the Vietnam War. After the war ended in the 1970s, it wasn’t until 1990s that the country began to open up to the outside world again, bringing in new opportunities for tourism and economic development. Modern day Hanoi is home to a multi-cultural community with strong French, Chinese and Russian influences. French colonial architecture continues to be visible throughout the city, with some streets resembling historic neighbourhoods in Paris. Near the Old Quarter, a large gothic cathedral constructed by French still stands; St. Josephs is one of the first structures built by the colonialists as they expanded their reach into Southeast Asia. Remarkably, the cathedral is still in good condition despite  the wars of the last century.

The Old Quarter, part of a former citadel wall, is made up of a narrow series of alleys, tightly packed together. The historic area is known for its clusters of workshops, skilled craftsman, artisans and guilds, with the 40 streets of the area each named for the primary good and service provided on each street. It was a lively place to wander through in the morning; locals sat down on low, colourful plastic stools set up by street vendors, eating a breakfast of noodles. Honking scooters whizzed up and down the alleys, narrowing dodging each other. I spotted a few people playing chess in a doorway, right next to a vendor selling produce off the back of a scooter. I passed through one street mostly selling flowers, before turning the corner to find another street with almost all bamboo products. 

I wandered further east to Hoan Kiem Lake, finally making an attempt to cross a major street – with scooters, cars and pedestrians going in every which way! One good piece of advice I had been given by friends who had visited Hanoi was to simply walk out into traffic at a slow, steady pace (without any sudden moves or stops!) and the scooters would simply weave around you. I walked beside locals crossing on my first few attempts, but it wasn’t long before I got the hang of it!

I stopped at Note Coffee to try my first Vietnamese-style egg coffee. This drink is traditionally prepared by beating egg yolks with sugar and milk, and bringing this mixture to a boil, before pouring in coffee. The result is a foamy, dessert-like coffee – and was delicious! The café itself was also unusual – with its walls decorated with thousands upon thousands of colourful post-it notes, with messages from previous visitors. The result made the entire café look like a giant art installation, and reminded me of Yayoi Kusama’s dotted “obliteration room”. Sufficiently loaded up on sugar and caffeine, I continued onwards towards the lake, popping into a few art galleries and stalls on my way. Along the streets, I was constantly amazed by the number of vendors selling fruit, art, and countless other items off the back of their scooters. Pushing or driving their laden motorbike through the crowds, these vendors would make sales right, left and centre – all while keeping moving!

Arriving at the banks of Hoan Kiem Lake, I crossed a traditional, red wooden bridge to Ngoc Son Temple, located on a small island in the middle of the lake. Aside from the crowds of other tourists, it was a quiet respite from the buzz of the surrounding Old City of Hanoi.

As it was approaching noon, I returned to my hostel to meet Kien, my local guide for the afternoon motorbike tour. Slightly younger than me, Kien had grown up in Hanoi, and was excellent company for the afternoon. His motorbike was a vintage, army-green, “Minsk”, a heavy duty motorbike that was brought back from the Soviet Union in the 80s. As luck would have it – I was the only person on the tour that day, which allowed Kien to take me out and around the city for almost 7 hours! I could scarcely believe that I was able to see and experience so much of Hanoi in a day.

Kien first took me to Train Street, where twice a day a speeding train passes through the Old Quarter, mere feet from the front stoops of people’s homes. We continued onwards to Hanoi’s notorious black market, where vendors sell everything from car and mechanical parts to appliances, DVDs and electronics. Kien pointed out things as we cycled; the dense scramble of black electric wires overhead called “black noodles” by the locals; the French colonial architecture throughout the city; and the “tube houses” of the Old Quarter – narrow homes that exchanged their width for height and depth – as a way of lowering property tax, since the wider your house, the more you pay! Many of these tall, skinny homes had large water cannisters mounted on the top of the buildings, used to maintain water pressure. We also visited a few wet markets – where every imaginable item was for sale, from a rainbow of produce to live turtles, eels, and frogs.  

Train Street

Between our ventures into different areas of the city, Kien took me to many local restaurants and wet markets along the way, to try a wide range of different Vietnamese food, including more Ca Phe Trung (egg coffee), Banh Mi Chao (a hearty breakfast skillet), Banh Cuon (rice rolls, stuffed with pork), Pho Cuon (fresh beef rolls), Pho, and Banana Flower Salad. We also stopped at a tiny Bia Hoi right stand next to the road – “Bia Hoi” literally translating to “fresh beer”, and is draught beer that is sold on street corners and tiny bars throughout the city. It is delivered daily and is tapped straight out of a large steel barrel. Kien and I sat on tiny red plastic stools on the pavement, sipping the light beer and snacking on roasted peanuts from a nearby vendor.  

Fruit Markets

A typical neighbourhood Bia Hoi Stand

A particularly interesting part of the day is when Kien took me East of the city center to the banks of the Red River. I was able to walk along Cau Long Bien, a colonial-era cantilever bridge that was heavily bombarded during the Vietnam war, as it was a key point of connection between Hanoi and the nearby port. Spanning a mile and a half in length, it is still one of the longest cantilever truss bridges in the world. While only part of the original bridge still stands, the bridge continues to be a symbol of pride for the Vietnamese people. Underneath the Cau Long Bien, impoverished families live in a cluster of floating homes, make-shift shelters that have been built on rafts of plastic barrels.

Cau Long Bien 

Floating Homes on the Delta

We continued onwards to Bai Giua, or “Banana Island”, an island located in the middle of the Red River next to Hanoi. Since this island is on a flood plain, no apartments or concrete buildings are allowed, and the island is mostly used for farming, including fields of bananas and papayas. Kien maneouvered his motorcycle down a maze of dirt paths between the fields as we explored the island. Barking dogs sometimes came up to our motorcycle, and ran along next to us for a while, before dropping off the trail again. We passed by many farmers working in the fields, typically wearing a conical, straw hat, (called “Non La”) tied around the wearer’s chin with a piece of cloth. These multi-purpose hats not only protect farmers from the fierce tropical sun, but can be used as a fan and also as a basin for water.

As the sun began to set over the Red River, we headed back into Hanoi, and drove along the large, tree lined boulevards around the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum and the Presidential Palace. Our day ended with a bit of a surprise - as Kien’s motorcycle broke down in the middle of an intersection! Fortunately, this seemed to be a common-enough occurrence in Hanoi, and all the other bikes moved around us seamlessly as we tried to get off the road. All in a day’s adventure! Arriving back in the Old Quarter after a terrific day of exploring Hanoi, I quickly crashed for the night, as I would be waking up early the following morning to catch a bus into the Sapa Mountains, a day’s journey northwest of Hanoi.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep 24: Someone Actually Called the Cops.

So recently I was like, “I should do something different than my usual” and I decided to open up a little thread for critiquing ppl’s short stories, and I kid you not, the very first story I got was someone’s Seto Kaiba erotica. Which, even in erotica form, did not have very much romance in it. So, now that Yugioh will apparently haunt my every waking move forever until I die, lets get back to S4. Lets desperately get back to canon. I miss canon.

Last we left off, Kaiba lost KaibaCorp...again. Really feels like he loses this company once every couple of years (weeks if we count season 1-3). Except, this time, Dartz didn’t read the fine print in the legal files that says the company must be run by a member of the Kaiba family. While that was a huge plot point with Pegasus, turns out that Seto and Mokuba’s memories have been blended so thoroughly, like a very fine Shadow Realm smoothie, that they just...forgot.

And like I’m positive that Roland remembers, but Roland’s not gonna say something and accidentally reveal he’s the 4th Kaiba brother and have to get abducted all the time and actually work for a living. Anyways, they forgot why Pegasus abducted them in the first place in Season 1, and honestly, so did the writers of this season 4 years later. Not like it mattered, because if Seto and Mokuba did take Dartz to court, the world would end before their case would even start.

Which is how, after one talk with Roland, Seto and Mokuba just sort of laid prone on the metaphorical ground and let it wash over them that yes, KaibaCorp is gone.

I really like this extra-long helicopter, PS.

Both members of Kaiba’s Sunglasses Army decided to align themselves with Kaiba, although honestly, I don’t think anyone else in this company has realized that they’ve been bought. It happened...1 hour ago. Like what do you even do if your company randomly gets bought in the middle of a workday? Like no lead up, no indication, just BAM you’ve been bought?

And if Duke works for Pegasus who got bought out by Dartz and then Dartz bought Kaiba Corp-------What does that make Duke? Is he gonna have to start wearing sunglasses inside?

Anyway, Roland knows better than to tell Seto Kaiba he doesn’t work for him anymore while still in the same helicopter as Seto Kaiba, who already crashed one plane today and will crash yet another plane before this episode is through.

(read more under the cut)

Seto decides to align with Yugi since he needs to confront Dartz eventually. Which is when we find out that Seto always planned to align with Yugi and was just giving him a really hard time.

Because over the last several episodes, Seto has had an entire team at this random museum in Florida in order to take some pictures (that really should have already been on the internet but wtv, it was 2003 so maybe it wasn’t?)

It’s like most of the way through s4 and the biker ninjas still send me. How did he make SO MANY biker ninjas? At what point was Dartz like...and now...all my mooks...will be ninja bikers. Or orcs. Mostly Ninja bikers.

Did Alister or the others ever tell him “hey, Master Dartz, I get that your 10000 years old but like...do you not understand what a biker is?” and was Dartz like

“clearly bikers are the most evil thing in the world, obviously.” completely unaware that most bikers are just 45 year old accountants.

In these scenes we also get a gander at their laptops and, if you ever want to see high level life crippling OCD anxiety in picture form, it’s illustrated very clearly right here:

Not only did they draw this keyboard in 1 pt perspective, they used like a ruler to draw all those letters so they were the same size. Some artist put so much time getting this nice and crisp and smooth...and then this happened.

And I’m pretty sure they died after that. I’m pretty sure this scene killed an artist.

It’s at this point that Yami kinda puts two and two together and was like “WE BOUGHT PLANE TICKET’S, YOU ASSHOLES.”

(It’s been such a long time since we’ve seen Mokuba smile like this, and it’s because he’s been hiding the fact for So Many Episodes that he and his brother prepped like hours ago to get this huge dunk on the rest of the party. He just wants to dunk on them so bad. Look at him. His company was bought today. BUT he gets to spend time with his bro dunking.)

Serious question, will Delta refund your flight if the Great Leviathan appears in the sky and tries to eat your soul to reboot the world from the ground up?

Of course not. They will never refund your flight. Trick question.

We switch back over to Rebecca and Duke, who have been absent from this show for so long, I actually forgot what Duke’s name was and had to think for like...5 entire minutes until I remembered that his nickname sounds like a poop and I was like “oh man, what name of poop would it be???” and then I recalled “Dookie. Yes. His name is literally Dookie. Wow that took way too long!”

Then we start a story arc I’d to call “My Kingdom For a Sharpen Filter” where, much like King Lear, the Yugi crew splays themselves on a battle field just strewn with different ways to sharpen an image, but can’t for the life of them use any other one, but the one deep in the heart of what is now DartzCorp.

And so yes, we are going to fly to San Fransisco, hop into ye Olde KaibaCorp, and log into proto-Noah in order to read a language that Arthur Hawkins can already read.

This is nonsense, but they put it there because it’s something to do. And honestly, it’s not a card game, so I’m down for this change-up. Lets go visit a version of Noah’s brain. At least they won’t drop an orichalcos for the 12th episode in a row.

On the way, Seto decides to try and egg on Yugi.

This backfires as you expect it will because Yami doesn’t freakin care. Like he’s not Yugi, he doesn’t care who the King of Games is, he harnesses freakin Dark Magic. The Wizard never cares if he’s King Arthur or not, and in fact, he probably prefers it....

..................Except in that spinoff where they had Yugi as a reincarnation of King Henry VII.

...................................................never mind.

And then Seto Kaiba says this actual line and I just...

WH.

WHHH

WHAT?

This entire show is just watching Yugi desperately cling to his scary ass hobbies. The tagline of Yugioh is “1001 reasons to go back to school and get a real job.”

What does Kaiba think Yugi does when he’s not around? Does he actually think Yugi attends school or sleeps at night or works an actual job? Like...he thinks Yugi has...NO HOBBIES.

Very interesting insight into what Seto considers a hobby and not hobby.

Especially since this Yami, who spends most of his spare time farting around his scary ass brain castle and getting lost. Occasionally he is forced on a date with Tea and wipes minds. That’s it. That’s all the things Yami does outside of hobbies.

Anyway, what is Dartz doing during all of this?

After this, Dartz pulls back the literal curtains on this room to reveal these candles that each hold the soul of someone he’s murdered.

There are not NEARLY enough candles for this segment.

A very brave man to have candles littered on the floor when his hair is down to his ass and all of his mooks have floorduster coats.

I really want to know what the local arts and crafts store thought when Dartz strode in there and bought every single tiny styrafoam skull during the Halloween sale and was like “can I put souls in these? You sell the kind I can put souls in, right?” and then immediately pulled out like a dozen 50% off coupons like a complete asshole.

Anyway, using this candle hocus pocus, Dartz uses the Orichalcos powers to take advantage of something Yugi did in the first episode. We distantly recall there was a giant eyeball in the sky--turns out if you bust up the eyeball with, lets say, a card that has a dragon on it, the eyeball will explode into many tiny Orichalcos pieces that will fall all over planet Earth.

So apparently Yugi didn’t save anyone at all when he busted that eyeball, because he instead set in motion Dartz’ evil plan to eventually use these many tiny Orichalcos pieces like the one seen here, to kill the hell out of people.

Good job, Yugi. Too bad you missed the Actual Bakura.

In fact, actual Bakura is probably the only one who survived this incident because I guarantee that Ryou Bakura is too busy eating all the contents of his fridge out of stress. He’s probably opened his window at this point, seen the crazy lights in the sky and in the street and was like  “Blooooooody nope nopenopenopenopenope” and just locked the windows and doors, turned up Hercule Poirot to max volume, and stuffed his face with cookies.

(Or biscuits, I guess.)

WELL.

I don’t know how to tally that.

Yugioh not only broke the tally I was using to measure the distance they spent commuting this season, it also broke the tally on the amount of people who have died on this children’s show.

That’s a really big number.

We’ve had real duel monsters for a couple weeks but youknow...this time they’re extra, extra, extra real. More so than the last times. Also they’re all Orichalcos versions of their cards so their extra edge now. They’re the hot topic versions of what were already pretty hot-topic ass cards.

MMM. We come full circle, back at a dock, a warehouse, and some huge ass boat.

Right where we belong. Where all friends meet, where we can all finally be one.

Yugioh found one of the only cities that has a very famous and tourist heavy pier/warehouse district in it just so the Yugi gang could finally feel comfortable in their natural habitat. HOWEVER, there’s just one tiny problem in this scene, and it’s that it’s not overlaid with the actual soundscape of a SF pier, which is that of 100000 screaming seals

I don’t have a seal problem, you have a seal problem.

Anyway, the only healthy adults here attempt to follow the children into danger but someone on the animation team was like “we just lost the keyboard drawing guy to that capslock! We cannot lose any more interns to a crowd scene with 9 people in it and 2 dead bodies!” and they uh...

And we immediately eject Roland and whoever that weird sunglasses guy is out of the script. Mokuba gave them a longing glance as they helicoptered away. Maybe because he missed his Dad stand-ins that he went through such efforts to call in the first place. Or more likely, because Mokuba would have preferred to be on that helicopter and far away from whatever the hell is going to go down on this dock.

Honestly the rest of Joey’s storyline this episode is him going rogue because of Mai rage, and it both comes out of nowhere and also seems very on point for him.

Meanwhile, Rebecca’s unbridled rage towards Yami Muto is still low key hilarious to me.

Witness the only character here who thinks Yami should suffer actual consequences and witness Yami just appear to not give a single damn about it.

Nearly spat out my own drink watching this.

The...

...police...

...exist in this universe?

Anyway, while Tristan and Tea try to locate a payphone to dial 911, Seto and Yugi decide to invade Seto’s own company by going through an elevator that you have to reach through the sewers.

Straight up I don’t think SF even has sewers. At least, not in the sense that you can walk in em like New York or Paris or other cities that have sewers. Our sewer systems are very small cuz we got something called “liquefaction” which means our ground is so soft (and artificial--a lot of the land is fake), that when there is an earthquake, certain parts of the city will...liquefy. It’s Terrifying. We kind of...avoid going and building underground except in certain stable places. (like even BART gives me the heebies.)

I just have a very strong distrust of basements, caves and other underground places in general and it’s not because of spiders, or ghosts or whatever, I’m just afraid of faultlines. It’s like having an active volcano, but you just don’t see it, and we haven’t had a Big One since 1989 so...any day now (I mean, 2020 has been such redic content, that I think we’re finally ready)

Again, Japan has way more intense Earthquakes than we do, and yet they have a billion underground subways and very, very tall buildings, so like, this is mostly a big cultural difference between the two of us. And the bedrock. They probably have better bedrock than we do (honestly, I just have no idea).

MASTER HACKER SKILLS.

Almost as good as that time he hacked into Pegasus’ company by dropping a satellite on it. I’m starting to think Seto actually doesn’t know how to use a computer.

Anyway, Seto is faced with...real cards, real monsters, indisputable evidence, and he decides, it’s time. It’s time to finally face facts.

So, while these two are just flinging cards around willy nilly, Tea and Tristan are ...actually talking to police.

4 seasons. They’re actually doing it.

Although, TBH, they probably should have gone to the Japanese Embassy first? Just throwing that out there.

Ah Yugioh, the only kids show around that tells you point blank not to trust cops. Timeless.

U.S

In some weird underground earthquake hazard, Rebecca proves that she is smarter than Seto Kaiba. She’s maybe even the smartest person on this show. Nice that we gave her nothing to do this season but pine over Yugi who is already taken by Tea who he is also not even dating.

Not that I love Rebecca or anything, I actually have a hard time with her voice, but like...they really dropped the ball on Rebecca.

If she does end up joining Kaiba corp as their back up Felicity Smoak while Seto just runs around aimlessly punching stuff that really is just offbrand Arrow but with cards. And with slightly less resurrections.

So, lets get a gander at that computer.

We didn’t get to see Kaiba pull out 12 other discs to complete the installation process for these all these Hard Discs. Maybe the lure of throwing a very aerodynamic CD across the room like a paper card was so strong that his dev team forced him to switch to these defunct squares?

PS, I am a true millennial, OK? But, I don’t remember Hard Discs.

Hard Discs were SO long go. I stopped using these damn things in Elementary school. The last Hard Disc I ever touched was in college, when I had to put my art portfolio on a disc to submit it to my degree. I don't know even why. Everyone had a mac, so I knew no one’s computer in the department even...HAD a disc drive so it was like...whomst among you has this damn computer from 1997? Whomst among you is still using Windows 95? WHY would I put IMAGES on a floppy when I can just email them to you?

Anyway, I had to get a USB hard disc reader, and to get that reader, I had to call my Dad who had legacy software because he’s a computer engineer, and he had to mail it to me.

In that same portfolio review, PS, I also had to submit my portfolio as slides.

I didn’t even know where to produce slides so I had to ask all these old people and go to the last photo processing store on earth to get digital pictures turned into negatives and then turned into freakin slides.

SLIDES.

I honestly think they just did that to weed people out of the art degree.

Anyway, I tell you this story just to say that there is no way in hell that Kaiba was using a hard disc during the height of the CD era. We were CD or go home since 2000. We had pretty decent jump drives at this point. We had wifi. It was realllly bad wifi, but we had it. Your phone could connect to the internet. It would charge you 50 bucks, but it COULD connect.

Who on the Yugioh team DID this?

Anyway lets see these pictures that for which, we spent thousands of dollars in unused plane tickets, destroyed a Caltrain, killed 2 ancient Atlanteans (and their dog), killed 3 random mid-villains, walked across the entire Peninsula, crashed an international plane, and left both the plane and the train to rot gas fuel into the nearest lake which is right next to a ghost graveyard?

Yeaaaaaaaaaah!

Like he reads it and is all “They’re gonna resurrect Atlantis” and it’s like WE KNOW. Dartz and his hooligans have talked about starting their Utopia to reboot the world since Gurimo. Since Day 1.

Man.

Anyways, there was one plus to the pictures, and it was that Seto Kaiba recognized the Oricalchos logo.

just...

The Oricalchos logo is...

...This logo, Seto?

You...didn’t recognize...seriously? Not until just now? You have been inside of this logo, rearing to lose your soul to Alister 2 times, and he only recognized it...just now.

I mean Seto takes a while y’all. He’s a genius, but his memory is so, so bad, that he will Eventually get smart, but you have to wait until like episode 24. But he’ll get there. Just gotta be patient.

And, when he saw it, he wigged out in a way I wasn’t prepared for.

Y’all I feel like I’ve seen to many weird zooms on Kaiba’s crotch in this show. Or just in life in general, especially after that surprise fic. That’s all.

I don’t know why everything exploded, but maybe the logo is cursed in the same way as God Cards? I dunno.

Anyway, this is when Dartz shows up with his brand new dog.

So they run outside onto the roof.

Now listen, does every Kaiba Corp building need the same weird ass roof? Is it like a McDonalds?

Because I’m just picturing this type of roof in SF and I’m having a time.

Forgive me if I made this lemming joke already. He’s just stood on a cliff’s edge so many times I can’t keep up.

RIP Dragon Jet, who took us from S3-S4, you’ll always live on in our memory, you glorious, wasteful, beautiful death trap.

Seto and Yugi are fine by the way, they just kinda jumped out, as you do when you’re an immortal god possessing a small boy and a...whatever the hell Seto is.

It’s at this point we reintroduce Valon because Joey went rogue and has decided to take on Dartz by himself. This is what happens when Tristan leaves the party. You always need Tristan to hold back Joey by his armpits to keep him from fighting random people.

So I guess Valon’s gonna die next episode. That’ll be nice.

What’s great about this show is each arc is just watching each villain die. You know they’ll die. But...how much?

Anyway, that’s all for today. I’m still drawing a hell ton of stuff so I don’t know when the next update will be...but just now I haven’t dropped off or something. I’ll...eventually get to it.

And if you just got here, this is a link to read all of these in chrono order.

Anyway, I mentioned Hercule Poirot, (because watching a hell ton of BBC was how I spent time with my family when I was a kid, and my very Southern Grandma freakin LOVED Hercule Poirot) So here is the best subplot of that show, which is David Suchet eating stuff.

And which doesn’t want to embed for some reason. Probs can’t embed more than one video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=17antzzJrzQ

[emptymanuscript]

Man, I don’t even know how to process this morning.

When you’re getting calls from the ER to give you good news before you’re out of bed, it’s one of those days where it may not be worth chewing through the bondage straps.

I think I am capable of massaging my brain enough to get two PSAs.

1) Please drink some water. Apparently it is that serious if you don’t. Consider this a friendly reminder that the clear non burning stuff is good for you.

2) Gluten is wonderful if you can have it. Gluten WILL kill you if you can’t have it. Modern Medicine is still figuring it out. Our tests don’t always find it. The only way to know for sure that you don’t have a sensitivity is to go off it 100% for 90 days. Trust me and my relative in the ER this morning, no matter what the tests say (between us we have had every test there is) you will KNOW your diagnosis within 90 days and it may be very different from what the doctors find. As the doctor I had (and loved) back when I first found out I had a “sensitivity” and that’s why I just start bleeding for no apparent reason, “Sensitivity to Gluten isn’t like sensitivity to Peanuts. We’ve got Peanuts down. There’s one simple test. You take it. We’ll know. The answer will be right. We’re still learning about Gluten. There are more and more tests that are getting more and more accurate as we learn more. But for right now, we’re just not the final say on whether or not you have it. You absolutely can know your own body better than our tests. You may have to.” But there is something we absolutely do know: Gluten Sensitivity and Celiacs is hereditary. If you have it, some others in your family probably have it, too. If someone in your family has it, there’s a decent chance you have it. Only going off it, 100%, for 90 days will say for sure.

I have Gluten Sensitivity. Relatively mild.

Last week my family member had “irreversible kidney failure.” They may still. I literally don’t know. It is definitely not mild. So they are desperate.

Because they are desperate, and the kidney transplant list is too long for too few kidneys where we live, they started the 90 day trial exactly 20 days ago today.

They called me this morning, before I got out of bed, to tell me this last blood panel shows the Kidney damage reversing. Significantly. 20 days off Gluten is reading the same as undoing the last two years of degredation.

Maybe.

It is only one blood panel. It’s during some kind of event. Again, see PSA 1 & drink plenty of water, please. Mistakes happen. It may mean nothing.

AND

Even if it’s real, results are not guaranteed. I want to be 100% clear: going off of Gluten is not a medical miracle treatment and can’t cure what it isn’t actively causing. It is not an allergy but it is kin to an allergy response, like peanuts. If peanuts constrict your breathing and cause heart palpitations, avoiding peanuts (and seeking medical attention) will stop that. Stopping peanuts will not also stop your degenerative bone disease. That’s something else not caused by peanuts. Exactly the same thing with Gluten. It will stop the damage it is doing. Whatever is wrong with you that is being caused by something else will not be helped by being gluten free. The biggest difference is that Gluten Intolerance expresses in MANY more ways than Peanut Allergies do. Enough so that it can be hard to tell what is and is not Gluten Sensitivity. You have to try cutting it out of your life to tell for sure. And it’s still not a miracle. I still occasionally bleed for no apparent reason whatsoever 12 years after going off gluten. It’s just once a year or less now instead of once a month or more before we caught the condition.

But having now made that giant disclaimer, if this morning is accurate, then going off of Gluten just countered “irreversible” kidney failure after more than a decade of treatments from some of the best doctors in Hollywood who failed to achieve much of any results at all. Who were all telling my family member that they should be preparing not to be alive in another decade.

Which really does just make me want to put it out there, that the top 10 most common food sensitivities are:

Dairy

Eggs

Shellfish

Peanuts

Gluten

Corn

Caffeine

Red Meat

Soy

Wheat (as its own thing apart from its gluten content)

Every single one of them can make someone with a sensitivity ill or dead. Damage from eating them can be cumulative. In retrospect I can see that I had TONS of recognizable Gluten Intolerance symptoms as a child. They were scattered and usually very mild. And even when they weren’t, no one caught anything, in spite of being the child of a medical researcher and so occasionally having access to the most advanced testing available, until I was nearly 30, in part because symptoms kept getting worse and more frequent so I was just going to the doctors more. I am fairly convinced that my father did not die of Alzheimers but from the accumulation of Gluten in his system over the course of a greater than average human lifespan. Which can potentially look like Alzheimers if you don’t test well enough because one of the things Gluten can do, if it has enough years of cumulative effects, is slowly strip away essential parts off your neurons.

So, please take a moment. Just in case. And consider what you actually KNOW. Know FOR SURE about your food sensitivities. Because if you don’t know for sure, it’s worth finding out.

[stuck-in-hawkins]

When He Left: Chapter 1 October 28th, 1993

Stranger Things Fanfic: Byeler

Rated: Teen and Up

Summary: Will looked back to see Mike at the gate, his forced smile starting to crumble. Will had managed to get the chance of a lifetime: a scholarship to an arts college in California. He would be there among the monster makers of the movie industry. He was pursuing his dream, but what was he giving up in exchange?

It has been four years since Will left Hawkins. Everybody went in their own separate directions. But it has been 10 years since the Gate opened and Will's nightmares are getting worse. So, the party reunites and old feelings ignite.

link to read on ao3

October 28th, 1993

Will felt the sunlight across his face and opened his eyes. The covers were insulating the heat from him and the man laying beside him. That thick mop of black hair, the curvature of his tan back. Will reached out and traced the muscles beneath.

Ishaan stirred. Will thought, “Don’t wake up, don’t wake up.” He laid perfectly still. But alas, the man turned over and looked at Will, still groggy but the blanket of sleep quickly wearing off.

Will spoke softly, “Sorry I woke you. I was just gonna make breakfast.”

The man looked away and mumbled, “I have to get to work.”

There it was. The shame. Ishaan was a flame that Will seemed to keep flying back to. He was exactly his type. Tall, beautiful, and incapable of committing to a relationship. They were drawn to each other.

Ishaan was still very much in the closet. But he would come to clubs. He loved that Will had this quiet, inviting exterior. He’d actually told him this. That Will was safe. He wasn’t “that” gay. That he could pass as straight.

Ishaan had no idea about Will’s occasional drag nights.

Ishaan grabbed his clothes quickly with a speed Will had become familiar with. Will had hoped he could open Ishaan’s eyes, and help him learn to love and accept himself for who he was. But when the morning light came, so did the shame. Will embodied all the things Ishaan didn’t want to face and he would put as much distance between him as he could.

Will put on his pj bottoms and walked down the hallway in time to see Ishaan throw on his jacket.

“Ishaan.”

Eye contact.

“Someday, I’d love to have breakfast with you.”

Will could see him try to swallow a lump in his throat.

“I’m sorry, Will.” He opened the door and walked out.

Will padded his way to the kitchen, and opened the fridge, looking at the eggs and bacon sitting inside. He felt deflated. He could feel a familiar tug, trying to pull him back to bed so that he could curl under the covers. But he knew that if he did that, he’d lose the day. And it seemed like a beautiful one to waste. He turned to the window and cranked the handle, opening them. The air was fresh and warmed from the sun.

Will brought out the eggs, bacon, toast, and butter. He’d remembered feeling the same way Ishaan had. He remembered when he first came to the city in college and kept his identity confined to the night. He used to have a similar elitism, trying to separate himself from gay men that seemed especially feminine, doing anything he could to distance himself from the stereotypes that plagued his sexuality. But going to group helped with that. He opened his mind to become more accepting. He even experimented in his identity and found freedom in the exploration.

He cracked the egg into a bowl. Ishaan hadn’t wanted to go to any of the groups Will recommended. He was in denial. He picked up another egg. He thought, 'You're just something he craves.'

Crack.

“Damnit.” He’d gotten eggshells in the mix. He picked them out. Will was beginning to realize that it would take a lot of soul searching for Ishaan to accept himself. Something Will couldn’t help him with. How long would it take? How many more mornings did he have to watch him run out the door?

Will turned on the stove and let the butter simmer while he whisked the eggs together. Dustin’s words rang in his head.

‘You deserve to be more than someone’s secret.’ Dustin didn’t mince words but he was right. And it just seemed like Will was always drawn to the type that didn’t want to come out.

He heard a door open. Dustin groggily walked in from the hallway. “You are a Godsend. Is that eggs I smell?”

Will smiled. “And bacon will be next.”

“Screw all these other guys. Marry me.”

“Pretty sure there are some terms and conditions you wouldn’t be up for there.”

“Forget them. I’ll do all the butt stuff. Just make me eggs every day.”

Will threw the dish towel at him.

Dustin got the grounds out and started making coffee. “Your man-friend still here?”

Will shook his head.

“That’s too bad. He’s missing out on an awesome breakfast.” He smiled, “And some great company.”

Will smirked. He loved living with Dustin.

___________________________

After breakfast Will got ready for work. It was Sunday and he knew he didn’t have to go in, but he needed a reason to get out of the flat. He didn’t want to sit alone, pining for Ishaan. Will could feel that it was ending. It was a transition that he’d done before. It felt all too familiar but still hurt.

The worst part was seeing them months later, out, proud, and in a relationship. He’d be happy for them, but then he’d wonder. Why hadn’t it been with him? Why wasn’t he enough? Why did it seem like they only changed after he left?

But then, again, he knew that wasn’t always true. There were guys that never came out. Like Hartford, who had a wife and kids that were completely unaware of his Friday escapades. Dating him, being his side piece, was a low point for Will.

And then of course…. There had also been Mike.

‘Nope,’ Will thought. He shut down that train of thought and brought out his sketchbook. He needed to distract himself with a project. Studio time helped with that. After all this time, he still had a weakness with Mike. He’d made his peace with pretty much every guy after. But with him, there was a tenderness that had never faded. And if he thought about Mike when he was like this, in the throes of rejection, he’d fall to pieces.

He grabbed his headphones out of his bag as the Metro carried him across town to his stop. These days, his Walkman turned mostly Sonic Youth albums. Today it was Dreamnation. He got off and headed to The WereHouse.

It was a prop house popular among the independent filmmakers and even the occasional large studio. It was owned by two brothers. One ran the historical prop store, located in another part of town. That shop was mostly a gallery of antiques from all different periods, some originals, some reproductions. That had been where Will had gotten his start, running around thrift stores, estate sales, and antique shops trying to find period correct pieces for their inventory.

But when his boss saw Will’s sketchbook, he got transferred to The WereHouse. The other brother’s creative dungeon of fantasy, sci-fi, and horror props and prosthetics. Will was living his dream, getting to make monsters for movies. Though… most of his work consisted of prop dummies that ended up being burned, buried, or otherwise mutilated. Some weeks were spent meticulously painting disembodied limbs, fingers, and heads. Occasionally larger more creative opportunities arose, like the one he was working on now.

The whole project was very hush hush. When studios put out work like this, they were looking for more than monsters: they were looking for talent. Will was pouring in extra hours because getting this deal would mean he’d be part of something big. It wouldn’t just be low cost props for independent filmmakers. They’d have the backing of a studio. It meant potentially being a part of the next blockbuster.

He could be responsible for the next Xenomorph. The idea was both terrifying and elating. As a result, he spent most of his days either drawing or sculpting with the occasional break to eat and sleep. But it took his mind off of the trials and failures of his love life.

He opened the door and nodded to Anderson, who manned the reception desk. He was currently nose deep in the novel, Dune.

Will walked through the vestibule, where some of the past projects were displayed and made his way through the giant room with shelves scraping the ceiling. One row consisted of nothing but body parts: From whole limbs and torsos to severed fingers and toes. On another row, there was a treasure trove of cursed objects: elvish daggers, cauldrons of all different sizes, stitched leather books, crystals of every color.

Will remembered how awestruck he was the first time he came here… well, honestly for the few months. Now, it was just a part of his life. He’d still get these moments of “I can’t believe I’m working my dream job.” But it had become his new norm. He wished the whole party could see it. Dustin had completely lost his shit when he saw it. But they were the only two of the party in Burbank.

Not for long, though. Lucas was nearly finished his last year in the Navy, and Dustin had been pulling every string he could to make sure Lucas got a position as an engineer at the company he worked for, AECOM. Max has been living with her dad on the coast the past few years. Despite being in the same state, she was still about five hours away. Once Lucas was back on shore, there was a chance of them getting back together and her moving closer. But she had that software job and it was more likely Lucas would move up to her.

Over the years, Will had tried to convince Mike to come over to the coast, to get out of Hawkins. Maybe if the rest of them were together, that would be enough to change his mind.

Will walked into the studio, a large space lined with workbenches and cork boards. Mannequins, busts, and chairs for prosthetics and monster makeup were scattered around the room. And the whole space smelled of curing latex, acrylic paint, and plasticine clay. He sat down at the spot reserved for him, that had pictures tacked up as inspiration, along with a multitude of sketches. And there on the bench was a little model, about a foot high, that he had been carving out and tweaking all week. This was the 3rd version.

The studio was looking to create a new kind of monster. Normally, the producer or director would give some parameters of guidelines. But this one was an open book, which meant it was an audition of sorts. Will looked at his board.

In truth, it wasn’t the monster that was terrifying. It was the world the writer built, the atmosphere the director created. The actors, who made the audience care about the characters on the screen. Even the best monster design could be undone with poor timing, shoddy lighting, or terrible acting. They were all vital components of the final product. Once the audience cared about the world, about the characters, they would become invested. Will’s mind began to ponder.

The scariest parts about everything he experienced was the fear of losing it all. Of never seeing his mom, brother, or friends again. Of being alone at the end. Nothing had been more terrifying than losing himself to the mind flayer. To feel his words and body being driven by another. The most terrifying monsters were the ones that you didn’t see. The ones that transformed characters you loved from human to monster.

Will took pictures of his miniature model as it was. He always did before destroying it. Then, he squished the sculpted figure, wedged the clay back into a ball. From there he began the shaping of a human figure. But he arched the back, as if the body was fighting against itself. Where the spine was, legs that were like spiders but out of bone emerged. The muscle tearing at itself, reattaching to the new limbs. The most frightening monster was the one you watched yourself become.

Art was cathartic. It was how he processed everything. It was what got him through the worst parts of college. It gave him power and strength. He had control over his nightmares now. He could create them and destroy them with his own two hands.

In so many ways, coming to California saved him. He learned methods to cope with his identity, with his trauma. He was in a new place where there were less things to trigger flashbacks. The fear didn’t rule his life like it once had. There were days he questioned whether it was all even real. But, lately, he could feel himself backsliding. His nightmares were getting more vivid. They were trying to claw their way into his life here. They held on tighter so that it was harder to wake up. Sometimes, he forgot them as soon as he woke up. He'd be in a cold sweat, the fear shaking him, and he couldn't remember a thing. He was relieved that Ishaan had stayed the night. Having someone beside him seemed to keep the nightmares at bay. This week, he dreamt about the Mind Flayer, about being trapped inside his own head. He remembered sending his friends the code to close the gate. He knew what it meant. He had been resigned to it. It was a cost he had been willing to pay to ensure that the Shadow Monster would be dead for good. He woke up in tears at how willing he had been to accept his death. He cried at all the things he would have lost and felt relief to be alive.

It was because his family managed to pull it from him. His party refused to leave him behind.

He sculpted the man’s pained face. He hoped that if this movie got made, that they’d save the man. That the characters would be as heroic as his friends had been. _____________________________________

Will got off the metro, exhausted, both mentally and physically. Eight hours in a chair, bent over his desk and sculpting, did a number on his back.

He was still listening to Sonic Youth so he didn’t hear the chatter as he reached his floor. He didn’t hear the laughter when he put the keys in the lock. He didn’t hear the voice of the man that used to make his stomach flutter. If he had, he would have prepared himself. He would have made sure to tuck his heart in his chest, instead of on his sleeve.

But alas, he opened the door unsuspecting and the sound he made betrayed himself. It held in it all the love he felt in seeing him again.

“Mike.”

[warofshadowstheorder]

Chapter 04

The flow of the Atlantic Ocean was calm and steady.  Airplanes flew overhead as different boats and ships floated by on their way to various destinations.  Underneath the waves, the various marine life forms that populated it went about their daily lives and saw to their needs.  In the sky, a Peregrine Falcon gracefully and swiftly soared through the air.  It flew through the sky and away from the populous nations that surrounded it.

The bird’s path instead led it far away from the nearest logical established landing place and far into the Atlantic in a region very seldom traveled.  An island measuring five miles around, located approximately 100 miles northwest of Ireland, shrouded in mist was the bird’s final destination.

The falcon flew directly into a mist off the coast of the island and perched on a high tower.  The tower was a parapet that was part of a 20-foot high wall encircling the island like a giant snake protectively coiling around its eggs beginning approximately 20 yards inland with the Atlantic Ocean forming a natural moat.  The island varied in elevation, the lowest points being by the ocean, the rest of it was mainly rises that rose into hills and back down again.  The highest part took up most of the northwestern, northern, and northeastern sectors of the island.  It was a mountain rising up to 3,000 feet with a prominent ridge at 1,200 feet.  The locals called the mountain Mount Titus, the ridge they called Gideon Ridge.  Together, they formed an impenetrable barrier from the part of the island.

There was a large quarry not much farther inland from Mount Titus.  Several teenage boys were inside hard at work harvesting ore, under the supervision of a few older men.   Not far beyond that was a mine shaft with more teenage boys occasionally entering and emerging from it.  On the western coast of the island, there was a small hydroelectric plant set up that used the flow of the ocean to generate electricity.  Further inland, various structures dotted the landscape.  Several homes ranging in size so that the human inhabitants could see over the wall surrounding the island were the most numerous.  In the midst of the homes were a few other buildings dedicated to various tasks.  All of the homes and buildings branched out from a prominent hill, whose peak was dominated by a large breathtaking church built after the manner of a Gothic Cathedral.

The soil on the island was the most fertile imaginable.  Over parts of the island not taken up by man made structures corn, potatoes, turnips, spinach, lettuce, carrots, apples, oranges, and various other forms of vegetation thrived alongside cattle, horses, chickens, pigs, and other animals grazing freely over seemingly endless fields of grass.  On another part of the island falcons, pigeons, doves, and numerous kinds of birds flew through the air; sailing on the winds before perching on some of the various trees in the dense woodland that began just after where Mount Titus ended.

The island was a hive of activity.  Little children ran around playing in the warm open air.  Elsewhere, activities ranging from boxing training to lessons on Renaissance art and how to cultivate the various kinds of plants found all over the island were in progress.

One of the buildings inside the Monastery was a dormitory with various bedrooms on multiple floors.  Nearby was a dining facility with a kitchen and an adjoining area for people to eat.  A few different gymnasiums were close by as well.

The Cathedral was the focal point of the island, with the chapel at the center.  The chapel consisted of pews for a congregation, an organ, and a podium for a speaker with an elaborately carved symbol consisting of a red background with a dark colored circle on top with four white beams inside of it in a plush shape extending from the center to the edges.  Another part of the Cathedral housed the chambers of the one they called the Apostle, who oversaw everything, and was also used for some specific rituals.  Another room was something unique to the monastery.

At the top of a high tower was an empty room except for several large cauldrons placed all along the floor.  The cauldrons were black with large handles on either side and filled with water.  Besides the handles there was nothing particularly unique about them other than their mere presence.

The room was still and quiet, with a black duffel bag resting on the ground near the front.  By the duffel bag was a small table where two young women dressed in dark gowns resembling Habits without Wimples sat.

The woman sitting closest to the cauldrons had long red hair and beautiful blue eyes.  The other woman had long light blonde hair and big chocolate brown eyes.  The brunette, Alicia Bruce, waited with barely contained patient anticipation.  The blonde was her friend Sara.

“How much longer do you think you’ll be here?” Sara asked slightly concerned with a Dutch accent.

“Until he gets back,” Alicia answered in a Scottish brogue with a tone reflecting the fact that she’d been in that room for several hours, “I have Gifted McAllister looking after the boys and I don’t want to be relieved until my Odin gets back.”

“You sure do love him, don’t you?” Sara asked with a hint of admiration.

“He’s the man of my dreams,” Alicia answered “I hope that someday you can find the man of yours.”

“Some of us aren’t as fortunate as you,” Sara said, “the perfect man isn’t just brought into the Order and then given a love-struck girl to show him around the place.”

“Oh please,” Alicia said, “I completely loathed him when he first got here.  I didn’t like how he was cocky and arrogant and such a smart-aleck.  But,” she got a far-off wistful look on her face, “in time I got to see that he had dedication, persistence, and charm as well, and that when taken together…he was everything a girl could ask for.”

“Hmm,” Sara said, “if the first step to having the man of your dreams is to loathe him, then I should say that I have a good start with about half the Knights here.”

The two of them laughed heartily and were almost at the point of tears when they heard a sound like a rock splashing into a pond emanate from the nearest cauldron.  They both paused and looked at the cauldron, ripples forming in the water.

“You take it,” Sara said, “we both know that you would rather get the news than me.”

Alicia smiled and walked over to the cauldron.  She pulled back the sleeve on her robe and put her arm into the water.  She felt around at the bottom of the cauldron until feeling a rock resting there.  A watertight bag with a note inside was wrapped around the rock.  She undid the rope and read the note:

Dieter and Olcán in USA, convenience.

Alicia’s heart sank enough that it was visible to Sara as she read the note.  She walked up and gently took the note from Alicia.

“Do we have any higher priorities right now?” Sara asked.

“Not at the moment,” Alicia answered, “we should have time to bring them back.”

“Okay,” Sara said, “I’ll prepare the cauldron.”

Sara walked to the cauldron.  She then put the tip of her finger into the water, closed her eyes, and concentrated.  After a few moments, she slowly moved her finger in a crisscross pattern before stirring it in the center.

After removing her finger, she opened her eyes.  She looked into the water and saw it begin to swirl in a whirlpool motion before stopping and moving back and forth.  In a moment, the reflection of the water began to change and distort until the image in the water was of a tiled ceiling and what appeared to be a storage area in someone’s basement.

In a moment, she saw Dieter’s face in the water.  He looked into her face and a smile made its way across his features.

“Guten tag Sara,” Dieter said into the water, “you’re just looking for any excuse to see me naked aren’t you?”

“Just keep telling yourself that spierkop,” Sara answered, “Alicia and I are here and right now you two are our top priority.”

“Olcán’s right here,” Dieter said, “und we are on our way over.”

“Fine,” Sara said slightly annoyed, “we have your Brussels package here, and tell Olcán we’ll have a towel and clothes for him.”

“Well stand back,” Dieter said with a smile, “because you know that I am too much of a man to not cause an overflow.”

“Yeah,” Sara said rolling her eyes, “your ego takes up too much space.”  She then stepped back from the cauldron before Dieter could say anything else.

A moment later Dieter rose out of the cauldron, with a significant amount of water splashing out as he did so.  He came up with a gasp and shook some of the water off his head before rubbing his eyes, the water dripping off his immensely muscled body as he stepped out of the cauldron.

Many of the people at the Monastery, including Sara much to her chagrin, were so impressed with Dieter’s physique that they thought he looked like a comic book character or some kind of Hellenic deity.  Every inch of his body was solid muscle and looked like he had been sculpted out of pure Granite.  His body was so chiseled that it seemed as though someone had made a conscious effort to organize each muscle so that they weren’t crowded together.

His body was adorned with ten geometric symbols on his shoulders, chest, back, and abdomen.  He also had a tattoo on his left forearm that read:

124872

לעולם לא

The most prominent mark was a large black circle over the left side of his chest.  It had been burned onto his skin, the borders of the dark circle surrounded his flesh.  Within the circle, four beams extended from a smaller circle to the borders of the larger one.

He was completely naked with the exception of a metal Star of David medallion with each corner fashioned into a razor-sharp blade around his neck.  It was three inches high, an inch and a half wide, and an inch thick.  It had a silver color, with the exception of red beams that rose above the middles of the beams that made up the Star with a prominent rise and point at the center of the symbol.

“Like what you see,” Dieter said confidently to Sara, who threw the duffel bag at him.

“Just hang tight,” she said, “you have to join Duncan in Brussels for your assignment as soon as Olcán gets back and I can get the water prepared.”

“I love how you are able to mask your feelings for me,” Dieter said confidently as he walked forward to take the duffel bag, not bothering to dry off.

“Whatever,” Sara said, “Nigel says not to bother cleaning Bathsheba or Solomon since he took care of that for you.”

“Ah,” Dieter sighed wistfully, “I will have to thank him personally when I get back.”

“In the meantime,” Sara said trying to sound disgusted, “do us all a favor and cover up.”

Just as she said that, Olcán came out of the cauldron in a similar fashion to how Dieter had earlier.  Olcán also had a muscular build, but it was more trim and toned compared to Dieter’s large and chiseled form.

He had the same marks on his body that Dieter did, in addition to nine more.  His medallion was in the shape of a Celtic Cross with red beams and bladed corners similar to Dieter’s.

Several scars also adorned his body, including a long jagged one up his right side, and a smaller one over his heart.  He also had a Japanese character burned onto the base of his neck and wore Odin’s crucifix next to his own.  Olcán climbed out of the cauldron as Sara tossed him a towel.

“Go raibth maith agat Sara,” Olcán said as he dried off his face and ran his hands through his flat hair to put it back up into a flattop.

“I’m not surprised to see you here,” Olcán said when his eyes found Alicia, “don’t worry, Odin should be fine.”

“Oh thank God,” Alicia breathed out, “when the note said that it was just you and Dieter I thought that…”

“He is just going to be a little late,” Dieter chimed in, “he volunteered to stay behind and distract the authorities who were there while Olcán und I slipped out.”

“Do you have any idea how long he’ll be?” Alicia asked concerned as she took the crucifix Olcán handed her into her hand and held it tight.

“We told him that the longer he was away, the more worried he would make you,” Dieter responded, “but you know as well as I do that how long he stays locked up is his decision.”

“He’s in jail?!” Alicia shrieked out catching Dieter and Sara completely off-guard.

“Jah,” Dieter replied after a moment, “but we got the message out that he will need legal counsel, so he will be fine.”

“I’m sure he will,” Alicia said getting a smile on her face, “he always finds a way to get back here.”

Olcán smirked as he thought of his old friend and comrade and remembered some of the many missions the two of them had undertaken.  One particular event that he remembered with fondness was when they went on a mission to rural Mexico and had to go on the run afterwards.  They wound up in the desert eating whatever Rattlesnakes and other animals they could catch as they moved to where they could get back to the Monastery.

At about that time, Sara had again placed her finger into the water and gotten it back to normal.  She then put her finger back in and concentrated until the image in the water changed from a reflection of the room known as the Cauldron Chamber, to a cellar somewhere in Brussels.

“It’s ready now,” Sara called out, “now get out of here Dieter.”

“Auf wiedersehen,” Dieter said grabbing the bag, “try not to miss me too much fraulein.”

“I will manage,” Sara replied callously.  Dieter then jumped into the cauldron feet first holding the bag above his head.  He fell into the cauldron and didn’t stop dropping, and he didn’t come up in the monastery.  Sara looked into the water inside the cauldron and saw Dieter’s face in it looking back at her.

Once she saw that he had made it there, she put her finger back in the water and cleared it.  Olcán had already dried off and dressed in a black undershirt and shorts along with the dark Cossack that had been provided for him.

“Why’d you cut him off like that,” he asked, “you’re supposed to wait for him to confirm his safe arrival?”

“I probably should,” Sara answered, “but I don’t want to give him a chance to talk more than he already does.”

“Hmpf,” Olcán lightly grunted, “I imagine the Apostle wants to see me?”

“You imagine right,” Sara answered, “you should probably tell Chloe and the boys that Odin will be delayed.”

“I’ll do that,” Olcán replied as he walked up to Alicia and gently put his hand on her shoulder, “I’ll see you around Alicia.”

“Thanks Olcán,” she said as she softly put her hand on top of his, “I’m glad that my Odin has a friend like you.”

He then left the room and made his way down a stone staircase a short distance from the door.  He walked down the staircase slowly, knowing that he didn’t need to hurry.  He got to the bottom of the stairs and walked through the back end of the chapel to a staircase leading to the Apostle’s chambers, stopping for a moment to look into the chapel.

The chapel was very simple, but it was all that the residents of the Monastery needed.  The floor was made of stone, as were all the floors in the Monastery that weren’t earth, and the pews were simple wooden hand-carved benches.  An organ rested behind the makeshift pulpit, and stands for a choir were on either side of it.  Despite its simple nature, the atmosphere inside the chapel instilled feelings of reverence, humility, and solemnity in the hearts of anyone inside.

The only somewhat elaborate decoration similar to something that would be in a similar structure was a large circle carved out of a thick block of wood with the center removed.  Four beams forming the shape of a plus sign extended from the edge of the circrcle, they converged on a solid dark circle in the middle of the larger one.forming the emblem of the Order.

Olcán looked to the front of it and paused for a moment to let the feeling of the place sink in.  He thought for a while about what he had done, and what he would continue to do, in the service of the organization he belonged to and the ones he served.  After a while, Olcán genuflected and walked across the chapel to ascend the stairs to the other tower.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he saw a familiar face coming out of the only door.  It was a man about his age and height, with long brown hair down to just past his shoulder blades.  He was very handsome, and had a dashing appearance akin to figures depicted in swashbuckling films and books.  He also had alluring grey eyes.

“Dang it Tadeas,” Olcán said, “when are you going to get a real haircut?”

“I’ll get a ‘real’ haircut,” Tadeas answered with a sly smile and accent-free voice while making quotation marks with his fingers, “about the same time that you fail a mission.”

“If that’s true,” Olcán retorted, “then your hair will be tickling your heels before you know it.”  The two of them laughed and then hugged.

“It’s great to see you again,” Olcán said after they came apart, “how did your assignment in London go?”

“Jolly good,” Tadeas answered with a perfect English accent, “it was difficult to find the targets,” he reverted to his real voice, “but after Jamuike and I found their hideout the rest was pretty easy.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Olcán responded, “is Jamuike in there now?” he asked gesturing to the door.

“Yeah,” Tadeas answered, “the Apostle wanted to go over a few things with him before we left.  You caught me on my way out.”

Tadeas and Olcán had gone on several missions and a few holidays together.  They both had pictures together from various parts of the world they had visited.  One favorite of theirs was them standing on the Great Wall of China wearing old-time Chinese hats.  They were disappointed that they didn’t get to see as much of each other as they would have liked, but they did their best to make up for it whenever they got an opportunity.

“Are you planning on staying here for your next holiday,” Olcán asked, “or are you going somewhere off the island?”

“Olcán,” Tadeas said calmly as he patted his old friend on the back, “when have you ever known me to stay around here when I have holiday time?”

“Touché brother,” Olcán answered, “where do you think you’ll go this time?”

“I’ve wanted to go back to Monte Carlo for a while now,” Tadeas said, “I figure that now’s as good a time as any.  Are you up for a little Monte Carlo adventure?”

“Thanks,” Olcán said, “but I really don’t feel like traveling.  Besides, Odin got arrested on our last mission and…”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Tadeas asked rhetorically while rolling his eyes, “He’s got to learn to be less reckless and more focused.”

“Hey,” Olcán answered, “we all have our shortcomings.  Odin’s happens to be discretion.”

“We can both agree on that,” Tadeas said, “but I’m sorry for interrupting you, what were you saying?”

“I was just saying that while Odin’s gone I should really stick around and help Chloe with the boys while Alicia’s waiting for him.  Plus, I should check up on Declan and see how much he’s progressing.”

“All work and no play Olcán,” Tadeas said “you shouldn’t take yourself so seriously.”

“I don’t,” Olcán answered as the door to the Apostle’s office opened, “but I take this work very seriously.  Jamuike.”

Olcán greeted a large black man with a shaved head and muscular build who came out of the office.  Jamuike had had a serious look on his face when he came out, but at the sight of Olcán and his greeting, he immediately brightened up.

“Olcán,” he said in a Nigerian accent as the two of them shook hands and patted each other on the back with their free hands, “I take it the American assignment went well.”

“It did,” Olcán replied, “the only damper is that Odin got arrested when we were trying to get out of the hot zone.”

“Really,” Jamuike asked surprised, “does he have an escape plan?”

“We took some precautionary measures when we loaded up for it,” Olcán replied, “so I have every confidence that he’ll get out fine.”

“Let’s hope so,” Jamuike answered, “if he’s away too long Alicia will kill him when he finally does get back.  Worst case scenario, she’ll have the kids take her name.”

“I doubt it will come to that,” Olcán said, “but he should be getting back soon enough.”

“Olcán,” a voice came from behind Jamuike, “coe in here please.”

“I guess you’d better get in there,” Jamuike said, “the Apostle has been expecting you.”

“Right,” Olcán turned to face Tadeas and patted his shoulder, “I’ll see you when you get back.  Have fun in Monte Carlo.”

“Thanks,” Tadeas said as he patted Olcán on the back, “I hope you have fun hanging out around the island.”  Olcán smirked and then turned to Jamuike.

“Always nice to see you Jamuike.”

“Same to you Olcán,” Jamuike answered.

Olcán walked through the door Jamuike had been holding open and heard it close behind him.  The chambers of the Apostle, unlike the chapel, were adorned with various decorations.  The most prominent features were three large paintings and two other wall decorations.  One of the paintings was a depiction of Da Vinci’s “The Last Supper” in a condition that appeared as though it was fresh from the artist’s canvas.  Another was a depiction of a man dressed in Roman armor with a shield and long spear, and a black man almost as large as Dieter holding a sword with a flaming blade facing some kind of huge monster in a barricaded area near a small village.

The third painting depicted a man kneeling on top of a high cliff overlooking a vast ocean.  The man on his knees had the sword from the other picture resting on top of his hands while a majestic celestial being standing before him reaching forward to take it.

The other wall decorations were two large plaques with an elaborate collection of symbols engraved on the top portions.  Several nameplates were underneath the symbols, along with more adjoining plaques with additional nameplates.  One of the plaques had considerably more names than the other.

A dazzling array of different artifacts from every region of the world, most of them priceless, decorated the walls and rested on several shelves around the Apostle’s chambers.

A man sat behind a desk set up at the far end of the room.  The man looked to be in his late forties or early fifties and had a full head of brown hair that reached down to the base of his neck, along with a short beard that matched the color of his hair.

His eyes were green and had a constant look of compassion and nurturing.  He spoke with a voice that was simultaneously calm and comforting but also strong.  He was sitting comfortably and smiled as Olcán entered.

“Olcán,” the man said standing up and pointing to a chair in front of the desk, “please have a seat.”

“Yes sir,” Olcán said as he gave a respectful half bow and sat down in front of the desk as the Apostle did the same.

“I was expecting Odin,” the Apostle said calmly with a strong voice, “but I’m sure that you will let me know why I have the pleasure of addressing you.  Now, you know what I want to hear, so let’s have it and we can both move on.”

“The mission was a complete success,” Olcán said in his usual tone, “the target was taken out and no one else.”

“Good,” the Apostle answered simply, “I have to commend you and the others on the execution of this mission.  When I first heard of it, I was worried about our chances of success.  The mission itself must have been difficult.”

“This is what I do sir,” Olcán answered with his usual tone, “and that man had to be taken out.  Anyone who makes a deal with the Devil has forfeited his right to share this world with those who follow God.”

“Do you hate them Olcán,” the Apostle asked in a strong voice mingled with mild concern.

Olcán was silent.  He sat still in his chair staring forward, never breaking eye contact with the man across from him.  The Apostle mirrored Olcán’s stare, knowing that eventually Olcán would answer his question.

“Sir,” Olcán answered still maintaining his usual tone, “you know that the mission is always my first priority.  I will never let any ill feelings I might have interfere with that.”

“I understand that,” the Apostle answered, “but I need to know that those ill feelings will not overpower you.  If we harbor anything apart from pure feelings, then we are no better than what we are called upon to fight.  It’s…”

“The price we pay for doing the work of God,” Olcán finished, “I know that sir, you’ve told me many times.  You know that I’m focused.”

“It’s not your focus that concerns me Olcán,” the Apostle answered, “but your motives.”

“They are pure sir,” Olcán said.

“And what of the other group that bears your disdain,” the Apostle asked in a strong voice with a hint of concern, “do you harbor ill feelings toward them as well?”

“I’ve come to terms with the past.” Olcán answered.

“Have you?” the Apostle asked making a slight gesture to Olcán’s right side earning a slight wince.

“I have enough,” Olcán answered quickly and spitefully.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you talking outside,” the Apostle said inwardly deciding to move on with the interview, “and your presence here rather than the man who was in charge of the operation prompts me to ask what happened to Odin.”

“Everything went as planned up to the escape,” Olcán said inwardly grateful to be moving on and returning to his usual tone, “Dieter was in his seat and made sure that there was validity in the voice recordings that we used.  But when we met up with him after the mission,” Olcán paused, obviously a little embarrassed at admitting what happened next,  “our exit route was blocked and we realized that there was no way we were going to be able to walk out without leaving the rifle or some innocent bodies behind.”

“I see,” the Apostle said, “and what was the result?”

“We realized,” Olcán continued, “that one of us was going to have to distract the security at least long enough for the rest of us to get out.  We knew that Dieter needed to be back here as soon as possible and couldn’t risk being caught.  Then Odin volunteered to go and I didn’t have time to argue with him.”

“I take it that Odin did the best he could at being a distraction,” the Apostle said already knowing the answer.

“And I ‘m sure that he is continuing to be a distraction in the penal system,” Olcán said, “I’m sure I’m not alone in hoping he gets back soon.”

“We all feel the same way,” the Apostle said, “but I am glad to know that the mission was successful.  I can only imagine what would have happened if he had become President.  I don’t know if we would have been able to stop him had he reached that point.”

“We would have found a way,” Olcán answered, “but it would have been a lot more difficult and probably with a larger body count.”

“That,” the Apostle replied, “is one of the many reasons why our Watchers are so invaluable to this organization.”

“They have their uses,” Olcán replied with a hint of resentment, “few though they may be.”

“Olcán,” the Apostle said firmly but doing his best to convey honest concern, “you can’t let what happened in the past forever control how you feel and act.  The past is gone, and it is essential that we learn from it., but you must live in the present.”

“My past,” Olcán responded, “is what has made my present.  I act the way I do because I have learned from the past.  I can’t help it if the results are somewhat undesirable.”

“Very well,” the Apostle said knowing full well from previous conversations that this issue wouldn’t be resolved any time soon, “you have two weeks of holiday starting tomorrow.”

“I will only take one,” Olcán answered in his usual strong voice.

“Do you want to spend it off the island?” the Apostle asked.

“No,” Olcán answered, “I’m fine here.”

“You concern me Olcán,” the Apostle said, “it’s been years since you’ve left the island for any reason other than a mission.  I encourage everyone here to use the resources we have to go out and see as much of this beautiful world as possible.  Why don’t you take advantage of this?”

“With all due respect sir,” Olcán answered in a respectful tone, “I have seen much of the world already, and I prefer to stay here.  I have all I could ever need right here, and I should help out with Xander, Angus, and Malcolm until Odin gets back.  I would also like to see how Declan is progressing in his training since I will be vouching for him soon.”

“I see your point,” the Apostle said, “although if you ever have some time when you have holiday and no obligations here, I suggest you tag along with Tadeas.”

“I will think about it,” Olcán answered.

“If you have nothing further to add,” the Apostle said, “you are dismissed.”

“Thank you sir,” Olcán said as he stood up and the Apostle did the same, “I will be around here if you need me for anything.”

“Enjoy your holiday,” the Apostle said, “with all you did for your last mission, you have certainly earned some time off.  May the light within…”

“Drive away the darkness without.”  Olcán replied before turning around, walking to the door, and beginning to open it.

“One more thing,” the Apostle called out to Olcán, “stop by the Combat Room.  O’Connell will want to know that you are back safely.”

“I will be sure to do that,” Olcán answered, “thanks for letting me know where he is.”

The Apostle nodded, and Olcán exited the chamber.  He walked back down the stairs and made his way over the grounds, overhearing teachers inside various classrooms as he passed them.  Some of them were talking about traditional subjects such as math, science, or history; others were talking about subjects as diverse as military history and modern vernacular.

He made his way across a patch of open ground where several people were sitting on benches reading, talking, and otherwise engaged.  Olcán moved by unnoticed until he was spotted by a small group of children.  Three skinny red-haired boys were out in the field playing together when they spotted him approaching.  In no time at all, the three boys ran over to Olcán and wrapped their arms around his neck.

“Hey boys,” Olcán said happily as he hugged the three boys when they came up to him.  They were Odin and Alicia’s three sons, Xander was nine, Angus seven, and Malcolm five.  They knew Olcán very well through his friendship with their father, and they all loved him.

“Have you been good for Gifted Murphy while your dad and I have been away?” Olcán asked the boys.

“Yes,” Xander answered in a voice that was equal parts Scottish and Australian while his younger brothers continued to squeeze Olcán, “is dad back yet?”

“No, not yet,” Olcán answered, careful to keep the same upbeat tone he had been using, “but he told me that he will be back soon.  Until he gets back, you three need to keep being good for Gifted Murphy and stay out of trouble.”

The three boys laughed and nodded, then Olcán stood up.  Malcolm and Angus continued holding onto him and laughed as they went up into the air with their arms wrapped around Olcán’s strong neck.  Olcán spun around once and then wrestled them to the ground, loosening their grip by tickling them until they released him.

“You boys go and play,” an older silver-haired woman said in an Irish accent, “Mr. Olcán needs to be going.”

The three boys laughed again before running off to another spot on the grounds and starting to play with some of the other kids.  Olcán walked up to the woman and the two of them embraced.

“Hello Gifted Murphy,” Olcán said once again speaking in Irish Gaelic, “was Xander telling the truth?”

“Oh yes,” she answered in the same language, “they’ve been perfectly well behaved.  They just have so much energy” she sighed, “I’m getting too old to handle children.”

“Please,” Olcán scoffed, “Odin’s boys can be a handful, but you’ll never be too old to handle children.  Mother Theresa would’ve had trouble with those boys.”

“That’s probably true,” she said laughing, “they’re so much like their parents.”

“What makes you say that?” Olcán asked.

“They’re wild and energetic like their father,” she said, “and at the same time they’re polite and well-behaved like their mother.”

“You’ve got a point there,” Olcán replied, “complementary opposites really do make for the best combinations.”  Gifted Murphy nodded.

“Are you going to see O’Connell?” she asked, Olcán nodded.  “I know he��ll want to be seeing you, go on down.”  Olcán gave her a kiss on the forehead and was on his way.

There was a staircase leading down inside the building adjacent to the open ground.  As he went down the stairs, he could hear the sounds of fists, feet, and legs hitting punching bags, jump ropes repeatedly striking the ground, several men yelling out instructions and criticisms, and bodies slamming onto mats.

Olcán got to the bottom of the stairs where a simple door stood against a wall of stone.  Above the door was an intricately carved wooden sign with the words “Abandon all hope ye who enter here” carved in large imposing letters and surrounded by relief-carved skulls with a large fire behind them.  Olcán pounded the sign with his fist before opening the door and walking into what was officially known in the Monastery as the Combat Room, but what Olcán and the others who trained there called The Pit.

Hard Rock and Heavy Metal music played over speakers throughout the room.  The walls were decorated with various posters.  Some were of boxers, including Olcán’s personal favorite Rocky Marciano.  Other posters showed Bruce Lee and other famous martial artists and MMA fighters.

Very little floor space in the room was visible.  There was a full-size boxing ring in one part, with a complete Mixed Martial Arts-style octagon-shaped cage at the other end.  There were four traditional punching bags, four Thai-style ones, a row of Mook Jongs, and half a dozen speed bags distributed about the room.  There was another area that was entirely matted where several men and boys of different ages were practicing rolls and throwing moves, wrestling and grappling each other in hard and almost inhumane brutal training.

The only feature in the room not specifically dedicated to combat training, was an interlocking series of wooden plaques with several name plates screwed on.

A few older men around the room were coaching and offering instruction.  Olcán walked toward a man a few inches taller than him with scraggly silver hair that went down to the base of his neck, a similar build to Olcán, and an appearance so grizzled that he looked as though he had been living in the woods since St. Oliver Plunkett's final sermon.  He was standing outside the boxing ring barking out instructions to a sixteen-year-old boy sparring inside.

“Keep your guard up,” the grizzled man barked out in an Irish brogue that matched his appearance, “chin down and hands up boyo, remember that!”

“You’d better do what he says,” Olcán spoke up loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, “if you get him really mad he will jump in there himself and make sure that you never ignore him again.”

The man paused for a moment, and then looked at the stopwatch he was holding.

“Time!” he yelled out, “go in the corner and relax for a bit!  But don’t spend too much time sitting on your arse!”

“Little wolf,” the man said in Irish Gaelic after turning around to face Olcán.

“O’Connell” Olcán said and the two of them shared a strong embrace.

“So I take it that the mission was a success?” O’Connell asked continuing to speak in Gaelic.

“Now I thought you knew me better than that,” Olcán answered in Gaelic as they came apart, “after all, I was brought up by the best.”

“You give me too much credit Little Wolf,” O’Connell answered with a smile as he placed a hand on Olcán’s shoulder, “but I’m glad that whatever you learned from me you are putting to good use.”

“Absolutely,” Olcán said before turning to look into the ring and getting his first good look at the boy’s sparring partner, “Declan?”

“Oi master,” the sparring partner, a twenty year old boy with long red hair tied back in a braid and brown eyes said in an Irish accent, “when did you get back?”

“Just now,” Olcán answered, “what are you doing here?  Is this the best way you can get ready for your trials?”

“Oh no,” Declan said quickly and apologetically, “I had some time off and O’Connell asked if I could help him with Nathaniel for a while.”

“Okay,” Olcán said turning to face O’Connell, “once you’re through here would you mind if I take Declan off your hands for a while?”

“Not at all Little Wolf,” O’Connell said, he gave Olcán a smile then turned to face Declan and Nathaniel in the ring, “GO!”

He then hit the stopwatch and the two of them went back to sparring while Olcán watched and helped O’Connell with his advice and critiques.

[karimthewriter]

Rosalinda and the dragon by Karim Khayal

Resting at the foot of a large forest sat a small village called Puffington. It was the most peaceful village you could imagine, a village with little smoking chimneys, tiny but lovingly decorated houses, a beautiful cozy little marketplace and even a town house with a fat rosy- cheeked mayor. In this town called Puffington lived the hero of our story, an ordinary man called Luke.  Luke wasn’t a hero like in the classical stories of old, a hero with shining colorful armor, a handsome moustache and a large sharp sword glistening in the morning sun. In fact, Luke was nothing like you might imagine a hero to be. He was just an old little man with deep dimples in his cheeks, bushy eyebrows and a mop of unruly white hair. He didn’t hear very well and the once bulgy muscles in his arms had turned into old man pudding.  Every Saturday the people of Puffington would see Luke slowly shuffle through the market place, picking a fruit here, discarding a worm-eaten apple there and bargaining with the savvy market people. The market people knew Luke very well and with a little smile hidden in the corners of their mouth, they would gently pretend to be bargaining hard while always (well, most of the time) giving into Luke’s bargaining price. They did this because Luke was well loved in Puffington, especially by its children. Oh, the stories he could tell! Stories about deep and wide oceans, fairy queens and walrus kings, pirate treasure and ancient grizzled giants living in deep icy mountain caves. Though he was certainly not a classical hero, Luke was indeed the hero of Puffington’s children, an old gentle hero with an endless supply of stories and home-made (it had been his mother’s secret recipe) ice frosted chocolate pudding. Many nights the children would sit around Luke’s rocking chair, while burning logs sizzled and cracked in the old chimney and the old secretive grandfather clock made tick-tock tick-tock…dang dang. Even the striped neighborhood cat would gently purr along to Luke story. Now and then the cry of the old owl living in the large willow tree in Luke’s garden would make the children jump up in fright, but Luke’s soothing voice would always pull them back in to the adventure of his story. It was after all only a story.

Even though the people in Puffington thought that they knew everything about old Luke there was to know, Luke had kept one secret hidden away all his life. It was a secret he kept locked away in a little box inside his heart, where it was safe from prying eyes. The secret was that Luke was still madly in love with his neighbor Rosalinda. Rosalinda had been Luke’s childhood friend since the time he had been a wee lad with ruddy cheeks, a stick in his hand and a chocolate smeared mouth.  They had grown up together, caught frogs and salamanders in the forest-creeks together, climbed hills and trees together, howled at the moon together and had shared many secrets while clutching hands on the forest swing. Rosalinda’s hair had been red like fire burning in the chimney, with a beautifully freckled face and a gap-toothed smile that shone like the sun on a beautiful spring morning.  Growing into a young man, Luke had come to love Rosalinda more each year, his heart melting at the mere sight of her. She had grown into a beautiful and lively young woman, possessing the deep roaring laughter of a melon farmer, the thin long legs of a Gazelle and short fingers as quick and strong as those of a monkey. She had indeed been a very special person and love-smitten Luke had known it.

One sunny afternoon, Luke had finally confessed his love to Rosalinda. They had been sitting together on a green meadow, enjoying the warm sun while happily talking about this and that when Luke took a deep breath and found the courage to ask beautiful Rosalinda to marry him. Rosalinda had jumped up suddenly and looked at him with surprise. Luke remembered squinting from the bright sun searing into his eyes, trying to read Rosalinda’s expression. Why are you telling me this now?  she had asked him in surprise and he had answered honestly that he was in love with her and everything that she was, that he loved the way she laughed from the bottom of her heart, that she was better than his morning coffee, dearer to him than his favorite chocolate and butter croissant and that she was the first thought that crossed his mind when he woke up and the last thought when he went to sleep. After an awfully silent but also deeply hopeful moment, she had made it clear that she was not in love with him and could in fact never fall in love with a friend as close and as cherished as he was. It was then that a little cog in the machinery of Luke’s heart had made clack! slowing down time till it felt like it was in the grips of a pair of hot thongs. But I love you Rosalinda! he had managed to stutter after his poetic confession had failed to move her even one bit. Look Luke, she had answered harshly, you mean more to me than you will ever understand. You are my friend. I love you, but not in the way you want. Please, please understand that. You will always be the little boy I looked up to when we were both small, my best friend and partner in crime. This is the only kind of love I can give you. She had bend down and given him a kiss on the cheek. Disappointment and hurt had turned out to be stronger than the beating heart of love and he had angrily stood up, ignoring the equal hurt on the freckled face he loved so much. On that beautiful summer day, he had stomped off without a further word, leaving her standing alone on a seemingly endless green meadow. Love had turned into pain and now pain had turned into bitter memory, while time caused the glow of their youth to disappear beneath wrinkled skin and scooped backs. 

Despite the fact that she was now an old white-haired woman with white hair and a sagging bosom, Luke still loved Rosalinda. Despite that, he had continued to ignore her, even though Rosalinda had tried to remain friends, throwing rocks at his window at night, tackling him from behind with her typical roaring laughter and even pelting the back of his head with little scribbled notes. He had made up to punish her for the hurt she had caused him and he had convinced himself that she had intentionally and callously caused him pain, that she in fact neither deserved his attention nor his friendship. Over time even loyal Rosalinda had given up in trying to keep their long-cherished friendship alive. The unremitting hands of time had then then slowly severed the human bond between them, pushing them both on to different branches on the ever-growing tree of time. Rosalinda had opened a little grocery store which Luke never dared to enter, while he had spent his work life as a gendarme in a beautiful blue uniform. They had grown old next to each other, while no longer knowing each other. She had married a man from outside the village and as far as Luke knew, they had had a happy but a childless marriage. Once her husband died, Rosalinda continued to live alone in her white two-story house with the beautiful apple garden.   They would still pass each other now and then, with both pretending not to remember and wishing each other a polite good morning or a pleasant afternoon. Then one fateful day, a day as beautiful as the day Luke had his heart broken by red-haired Rosalinda, the dragon arrived.

Those citizens of Puffington who saw the dragon flying high above the roofs of the village, described it as having two horns the size of scimitars, brightly colored scales and wings measuring at least 20 feet each. Nobody knew exactly why the massive dragon had decided to settle in the mountains near Puffington, since the last a time a dragon had been sighted near Puffington was about a 100 years ago. Perhaps, they thought, it wanted to feast on the herds of sheep that grazed on the luscious green fields nearby. Some of the old and wise people told stories about old and weary dragons returning to the place where they had once hatched from an egg.  The dragon, they whispered, had returned one final time to breath its final breath at the cradle of its birth. Nobody really knew for sure though.  This was because dragons were highly mysterious creatures and as you can imagine, people were far too afraid to approach a living fire breathing dragon and ask it politely why it had decided to arrive now and then. The thought of the scaled and winged monster living so close to them, kept the people of Puffington awake at night. At the distant roar of the dragon, the people of Puffington huddled with fright beneath their blankets. They were so scared that they only occasionally peeped up from beneath the blanket, imagining the dragon hungrily staring through their window. Of course, dragons like all living things, need to eat and nobody was surprised that a short while after the dragon had arrived, cows, sheep and even horses began to disappear.  Despite its feasting on the animals grazing nearby, the dragon had at first shown little interest in Puffington and its human inhabitants. The whispered rumors of dragons being vicious man-eaters seemed not to be that true after all.  People breathed a sigh of relieved and hoped that the dragon would soon move along to wherever dragons go when they have filled their big green bellies with sheep and cows. Then old Rosalinda disappeared, while picking ripe berries at the outer edge of the thick surrounding forest.  The only thing left behind was a half-filled basket of red berries. People knew that the fiendish dragon was responsible, as the trees near the basket were charred black by the enormous heat of dragon breath. The hungry dragon had snatched poor helpless Rosalinda and, if by miracle she was still alive in the dragon’s cave, there was nothing that could be done to save her.  The tiny village of Puffington was now in a stage of high panic, with people packing all their belongings into and onto their horse-carriages and ox-wagons. They decided to flee a village they regarded as ultimately doomed. Even though the rosy cheeked mayor tried to calm down the frightened citizens of Puffington, seemingly nothing could be done to calm their fears. The mayor ordered a brave watch on the outskirts of the village and forbad people from approaching the mountain from within a half-mile radius. After the frightened people asked the mayor how a curfew could possibly hold back a hungry dragon the size of house, even the rosy cheeked mayor turned pale and fell silent for lack of good words.  The only thing he managed to say was that it was better after all to keep calm and not to panic. He was sure that the dragon would soon get bored from eating so many sheep and forever leave the cold dreary mountains near Puffington.

When Luke heard that Rosalinda had been snatched by the dragon, he made up his mind now and then that he would have to save Rosalinda from the beast, cost it what it may. It would be the story of his redemption. He would do it to redeem the years of silence that had passed between them. He would do it for the love that had severely bend but not completely broken under the weight of time.  This would most like be the final act of courage in his life, a fitting and honorable end if there ever was one. Considering that he knew nothing about fighting dragons, Luke realized that he needed to read everything he could find in the shortest time possible. He also realized that he needed to arm himself if he was even going to have a nick of a chance against the ferocious beast. One thing that seemed to be certain was that the dragon wouldn’t drop dead at the sight of an old scrawny man coming to fight it, perhaps only from laughing so hard that its fire lungs would burst.  The first task proved to be exceedingly difficult as all the books Luke found in Puffington’s local library, were full of nonsensical stories of valiant knights, exotically named swords and beautiful long-haired damsels locked in tall towers. Nonsense, such nonsense he would continually mumble to himself while desperately turning page after page. Where was all the scientific literature when you needed it? Only one book by an author called Hermonius The Traveler, an author whose name he found mentioned in the dragon section of “The Guide to mythical Creatures”, caught his interest. In the book, a memoir and travel description, Hermonius described how during his travels in the east he had heard strange whimpering, hissing and snorting sounds coming from somewhere above a mountain ridge. Hermonius then decided to climb the rocky ledge in order to discover the source of the mysterious sounds. The paragraph read as follows:

“Having strained myself arduously in order to locate the puzzling sound emitted by the mysterious creature, my eager mind was bursting with the anticipation of knowledge and the discovery of the unknown.  Imagine dear and beloved reader my astonishment at finding a nest of dragon hatchlings! Here my eyes were gazing upon a creature of lore, a beast of legend and myth! In truth, I quickly grasped that the dragon of the beloved fairy tale, the murderous beast of old wife’s tales battling knights and ravaging cities, a beast so hideous and ferocious that eyes could not gaze on it too long for fear of being blinded by its hideous contours, were indeed far from the truth.  The dragon hatchlings I had found were as colorful as the fish in Gods wide oceans, shimmering and shining like a thousand scaled stars. I counted four of them, not being able to determine their sex due to my clear lack of expertise. Like the litter of the common Felis Catus, they huddled amongst each other for comfort and warmth. The vulnerable state of the beasts stood in stark contrast to the demonic nature commonly ascribed to them by legend. I felt a rush of pity, having produced a dried piece of meat from my pocket which they then hungrily devoured, fighting amongst themselves for the best scraps. Their familiar yet bewildering behavior was indeed a wonder to behold! For many hours I sat there on that ledge, fixated by the wondrous nature of the creatures, unbeholden to the danger of what would occur if per chance the mother of the dragon hatchlings returned from her foraging. It was then that the strangest thought occurred to me and my mind seemed overtaken by a singular wish and purpose. It was the sudden, yet inexplicable urge, to gather one of the hatchlings back with me and bring henceforth back to human civilization, with the further purpose of conducting enquiries upon its marvelous nature. I thought to myself that this creature, having only the size of a large rabbit, would not pose much danger to my wellbeing and would therefore be quite easily captured.  I then decided that I would firmly grasp a dragon and carry him safely within my knapsack, which was wide and spacious enough to contain necessary items on my quest. But first I needed to empty the knapsack of belongings in order to find accommodation for the yelping little beast. Quickly I littered the mountain ledge with my appliances, keeping only the pig leather gloves which I proceed to wear for fear of the dragon hatchling scalding my hands with its fiery breath. After having done, so I hurriedly approached the nest. It was then that the strangest and most astonishing thing happened. Having stretched out my hand towards the dragon hatchling I had decided upon and upon my attempt to place my hand firmly beneath its scaly belly, the dragon suddenly opened its mouth and with a snarling childlike voice uttered the word “mother” and again “mother”, not stopping and repeating the word over and over again till suddenly his siblings joined in the chorus of “mother, mother”.  Shocked and in utter astonishment at the miracle I was witnessing, I stumbled backwards, almost tumbling down the ledge and holding myself from doing so only with great restrain. You must understand dear reader, that later that at this point I did not try to venture again into the dragon den, as my shock caused me such terror that it took me much time to again reconcile myself to reality. When many weeks later I took it upon myself, finding the courage within the deepest part of myself, to visit the dragon den I found it empty. From this day, though I spent many a sleepless night remembering the miracle I was fortunate enough to behold on that fateful day, I never again had the blessing of coming upon another miracle of that caliber.”

Strangely enough, Hermonius never seemed to mention the experience in the other travelogues that Luke scoured for information. Looking for further biographical information on the author, the only other entry that Luke could find about Hermonius was a small entry in “The Standard Encyclopedia of Travel Writers”. It read:

“Hermonius Looms, also known as Hermonius the Traveler, a seventeenth century Adventurer, Naturalist and Memoirist). Born to Joseph Looms and Lamia Looms in Puffington. Early studies of Alchemy, Orientalism and then Natural Sciences. Traveled widely throughout Laposia, Monzanie and Asidinia. Mysteriously vanished near Puffington forest. Among his works are “Journey through Arsidina”, Laposia: There and Back again” and “Wonders and Mysteries of the Natural World”. Also known for one of the very few descriptions of dragons (though many of his descriptions and alleged eye-witness accounts are highly contested today and considered fictious at best).”

Realizing that time was running out and that he would not find much more useful information about dragons, Luke decided to focus on the second part of his mission. It was now time to arm himself. The only weapons that Luke could lay his hands on were the pistol that he had inherited from his grandfather and the polished gendarme sabre which proudly decorated the wall of his home. Those would be his only weapons. Luke knew that he also needed some sort of armor. He thought about all the stories of armor-clad knight, thinking to himself that those knights would have been better suited coming completely naked to a fight with a dragon. This sort of metal armor would very quickly turn a valiant handsome knight into a delicious (for a dragon at least) spit roast.  Since he himself did not know if there actually was any armor that could provide protection against dragon teeth or dragon breath, Luke resorted to the only material that was close at hand. Luke spent the next day’s cutting up his cherished leather furniture and scouring Puffington’s garbage heap for discarded leather boots, all the while stitching and knitting the scavenged leather together into something that could be worn for armor. Working day and night, Luke barely ate and drank till he finished stitching together his make shift uniform. After having finally finished with his task, Luke looked at himself in the mirror and even felt a tinge of pride gazing at the padded leather suit covering his arms, legs and torso, in addition to a leather cap which could be tied together under the shin with strings attached on both sides. He now was the oldest and most likely the worst prepared warrior ever to face a dragon, but the time had come to show the dragon the undefeatable spirit of an old Puffington gendarme.

The night his rescue mission was to begin, Luke only slept a little. He got up very early in the morning, more determined than he had ever been in life. He put on his leather armor, plucked the pistol into his belt and inserted the sabre into a self-made leather holster. Luke went quietly out the door, gently closing it as not to draw any attention. At the clicking of the closing door, Luke was suddenly overcome with sadness.  He stared motionless at the house in which he had lived his entire life and he knew, the way only a person with a very long and full life could know, that there was always a last time and that this time had probably now come. Goodbye dear sweet home, he said, turning his back on the only home he had ever known. Any person secretly watching Luke would have scratched his or her head at the strange sight of the old man dressed in a badly stitched and worn-out leather costume and armed with a sabre and a pistol. There was however nobody to watch as the streets of Puffington were empty, with only the occasional brave cat pacing its empty alleys, perhaps looking for a wayward mouse. Perhaps. Cats are mysterious creatures after all.

Luke hurried up the empty streets, all the while not looking back till, he reached the outer edges of the village. He didn’t have a particularly good idea of where the dragon was possibly hiding itself.  He thought of a particularly large and very deep mountain cave, which he had explored as a child and had almost got lost in many times. This cave was one the few caves large enough to hold and hide a dragon. When Luke reached the edge of the dark simmering forest, something strange began happening to him. He started remembering. He remembered himself playing in the forest as a child, how new and mysterious everything had been back then. Every hollow tree, every hidden corner and every sound had been a source of endless adventure and intrigue.  Once he had even caught a glimpse of a family of forest trolls, scurrying away after they caught sight of him. Now it seemed like many memories he had forgotten since that painful sunny day many moons ago were coming back again, filling him with the scent of lost long youth and a drenching sense of memory that he didn’t know he still possessed.  There was the tree under which he and Rosalinda discovered the fox burrow with its writhing and whimpering red litter! There was that rock behind which they had hidden after smashing the shop window of Mr.Papdopolo with a ball! How they had giggled at the sight of the angry portly man calling out for them in anger. Oh, the memories! Overcome with emotions of a life long gone, Luke’s wrinkled knees buckled and he sat down on a rock, closing his eyes for a brief moment. With his eyes closed, he absorbed the surrounding forest like a hungry sponge. He suddenly realized that he had been purposely avoiding this sense of being for the largest part of life. He had been so hurt by Rosalinda’s rejection, that he decided to close himself off all the while growing older. Now he had been given a sort of second chance. Dragon I am coming for you, Luke growled menacingly, reaching for the pistol tucked into his belt. You may be a big as house, but I am determined and I will find you.

Walking through the ever-darkening forest, Luke was finding it more and more difficult to see clearly. He realized now that he wasn’t the young energetic boy he had once been. The closed space of the forest and rustle and sounds of mysterious creature were indeed overwhelming for an old man like himself.   He was beginning to feeling weary when the forest suddenly gave way to a clearing, stretching itself out like a green blanket. In the far distance it gently caressed the seams of the continuing forest.  In between them was a green oasis of grass, outstretched like a soft welcoming blanket. Luke found it strange how the darkness of the forest had made him think of permanent night, a night which all of a sudden turned to bright daylight. If memory served him right, the mountain at the edge of the forest was still about 80 miles away. Of course, he was no longer young and the trek was most certainly going to take him longer.  As children, Luke and Rosalinda had discovered a grassy pathway stretching itself upon the mountain, breaking here and there, but then flourishing again a bit further around a ledge extending upwards, always within their reach and requiring only a little climbing skill. The grassy path had been like a directing compass towards the large and silent crave. If the path was still there, he would reach it with some effort. He was, after all, only an old man in ridiculous self-made armor. An old man who wanted to kill a dragon with a relic of a pistol. In truth he had never fired a single shot in his life. If the pistol isn’t enough then I also have a sabre, he thought to himself, smiling grimly as he proceeded to walk across the meadow toward where the forest continued and darkness would again envelop him.

Following the grassy path turned out to be more difficult than expected.  He had set his eyes forwards towards the trees, ignoring the rocks, small holes and branches that were strewn all over the meadow.  Luke suddenly stumbled and pain shot through his body like a thousand little needles. It had happened. Old age had indeed caught up with him. Clutching his injured foot, Luke howled like a wolf. The pain was almost too much too bear and he waited for it to abate.  After the pulsating pain had calmed down a little, Luke began to think of ways to mend his twisted ankle. He, of course, had no medical supplies and the only thing he could do was to cut of some strips of leather with his sabre, a thing that proved very difficult since he had to stand on his good leg and balance himself like a stork. When he managed to cut of some pieces of leather, he wrapped them around his ankle. Having made his makeshift bandage, Luke began to gather some dry branches scattered throughout the grass. I am indeed lucky that there are branches lying near me at all, he thought to himself. He searched through his pockets for his old and trusted firestone, something which he of course had brought along and after many tries managed to turn a tiny spark into a beautiful sparkling fire. Now with night slowly approaching, this fire felt incredibly warm and comforting. The sizzling branches brought back memories and his old man head conjured up pictures of the rumbunctious little boy he had once been.  He smiled, even forgetting the pain in his foot for a little while.  He was beginning to nod off, when he was awoken by a strange scratching and huffing sound. Somebody, or something, was clearly speaking in a strange husky voice. He couldn’t understand the words though. Trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes, he couldn’t make out very much in the dusk.  Luke pulled the pistol out from his belt.

Hello? Is anybody there? he called out. I am armed to the teeth and ready for combat! Do not approach me if you have ill intentions!

The voices stopped for a moment and then Luke heard the scruffy sounding voice again, this time calling out to somebody. Luke carefully pulled out a large burning log from the fire, its embers scattering like fire flies. The flames of the log lit up the shadowy veil of dusk and not far away from his fire, he saw two forest trolls. The trolls were about the size of a five-year-old child and had on tattered looking clothes. They had large ears, a large bulbous nose and the fire reflected in their equally large eyes. One of them held a shovel in his hand.  They had dug up something from the ground, which looked like a small wooden chest.  When they saw that Luke had woken up and was staring at them, one of the trolls picked up a branch and began growling at Luke in its foreign troll language. It lifted the branch above its head, as if intending to charge Luke with it.  The trolls growling noised suddenly stopped when it saw Luke’s pistol pointed straight at it. Somehow, the troll seemed to know what a pistol was and what it could do.

That’s right, Luke growled back at the troll. Bugger right off, or I’ll put a hole right through your nasty troll belly.

The other troll threw the small shovel in the direction of Luke. With a metallic sounding clang, it landed near the fire. The shovel throwing troll quickly picked up the little chest and grunted something to its friend, who growled at Luke one last time before both hobbled off into the darkness. Luke breathed a sigh of relief and pushed the pistol back into his belt. This night there is going to be no sleep, he thought to himself. Despite trying to stay awake, Luke could not resist the encroachment of sleep. When he woke up, he saw that the trolls had returned and taken back their shovel.

When Luke left the meadow and once again entered the forest, the canopy of trees enveloped him like a roof of rustling leaves and shadow. The pain in his foot had returned and he had to grits his teeth in order to continue on. Now and then he would rest on one of the rocks protruding out of the forest ground, taking just enough time to calm the ache that was spreading throughout his body. Exhaustion was now creeping up upon him and he realized with some terror that the supplies he had brought with him were dwindling. There was not much bread, marmalade and cheese left in the knapsack he had slung over his shoulder. Luke had calculated just how much food he would need for the journey to the mountain and back, if there was going to be a back at all, but his injury had slowed him down, taking far more time than he had originally calculated. With the slowing down of his journey, his food supplies had begun to dwindle. Though he realized now that hunger was going to be a problem, there were many creeks and lakes generously spread throughout the forest for him to drink out of.  

After a day of limping, Luke closed his eyes and sat down to rest on a rock protruding from the ground. Suddenly he heard a rustling sound. It was a sound similar to that of a buzzing dragon fly. He also heard childlike high-pitched giggling. When he opened his eyes, three forest pixies were watching him.  They were about the size of a dove, with small mischievous faces and pointy sharp incisors which could Luke could see every time they opened their mouth and giggled. Each pixie had a double pair of two wings buzzing and turning, holding them in the air while they seemed to be highly amused by the sight of the old man in the strange uniform.

Where are you going old human man thing? one of the forest pixies asked in a fitting high-pitched voice. Do you have a duel with a gray giant ogre, do you want to hunt some pixies with that dangerous looking sabre? The other two pixies again joined the giggling, covering their toothy mouths with tiny sharp clawed hands.

At first Luke was too surprised to answer. It was indeed rare to catch sight of one the notoriously mischievous forest sprites but here, directly in front of him, were three of them talking to him, and in human language no less!

I am on a quest to hunt a dragon and save my beloved, Luke finally managed to say to the pixies.

A dragon? the second pixie asked, all the while giggling uncontrollably. So, it is not pixies you are after but something a wee bit larger?

Oh, that poor dragon! the third pixie exclaimed. We should go and warn him that he is in mortal danger.

Luke tried to ignore the fact that the three pixies seemed not to take him very seriously.

I know that pixies live in the forest and I know that you are very curious and knowledgeable creatures. I can imagine that you would know where to find a dragon around here, wouldn’t you? If you perhaps saw a dragon, did you see an old woman too? I am looking for her. I must know. If you be so kind, please tell me.  

A dragon? the first mischievous pixie asked.  Let me think. So, you think that you are one those metal humans who goes to save the human woman from a fire breathing dragon or a club wielding ogre?  We pixies like these human stories. Indeed, we do. We like all kinds of stories. A woman? Is it your wifey and is she old and wrinkly like you? Does she have a sabre and a strange hat like you?  Does she have big droopy ears and does she have a limp like you?

I am the funniest thing they have seen in a while, Luke thought to himself. He tried to stand up from the rock, but the pain made him sit back again. He felt himself getting somewhat mad at the mischievous fairies, but then he remembered what he had learned about dealing with troublesome forest sprites. That it was better not to give into the pranks and games that they seemed to enjoy playing on clueless humans.  It was also not a very good idea to start an argument with magical creatures he knew next to nothing about.  He had heard stories about people who had done that and had their ears turned into donkey ears. For a while at least. I must look ridiculous enough, he thought to himself. Donkey ears are certainly not going to help.

No, she certainly does not, Luke answered matter-of-factly. In fact, she has quite beautiful ears and she is a beautiful woman. You might laugh and giggle at me. That doesn’t matter to me at all. I am going to find that dragon and I am going to rescue my Rosalinda. So, if you are going to help me to find the dragon or not, it doesn’t make a lick of a difference to me.

The first fairy turned to the other ones.

The old saggy eared human really does want to find that dragon.

The big dragon that returned to the forest of its birth, said the second fairy.

The big dragon that lives in the red cave, said the third fairy.

So, you do know where to find that dragon? Luke called out in surprise. Please, kind and very handsome pixies, tell me where to find it!

Kind and handsome, eh? What a funny old knight you are. It lives not very far away. Not very far away at all, the first fairy said.

In the big red cave lives a dragon with a human friend, said the second fairy.

An old droopy eared human woman and a dragon can be found in a red cave, said the third fairy and all three of them again giggled uncontrollably.  

So, Rosalinda is alive? Luke cried out, feeling immense joy at the thought.

The old droopy eared human man might need two days and nights to find the old droopy eared woman, answered the first fairy.

I might be an old weak man, but if memory serves me right, I might even know where to find that cave, Luke said. I give you much thanks, oh bestest and wisest of forest pixies.  

 The three pixies seemed to be somewhat pleased with his compliments. Pixies and human were not known to get along vey well. At least in the stories people told about them.

Luke slowly stood up from the rock he was sitting on, feeling his entire body ache.

When he had turned his back to them, one of the three fairies called out to him.

We will go and warn that big big dragon now! It might be his last day on earth! That poor doesn’t know what is coming to him.

From behind his back, Luke continued to hear the pixies giggle. He started shuffling in a southern direction towards the location where he remembered his childhood cave to be, ignoring what the pixies had told him about the red cave.  

Old wrinkly human is braver than a stupid forest troll on a hunt for a pixie breakfast.  Maybe he should waddle north and not south, one of the faired called out to him again.  Pixies like games, yes, they do, but they do not purposefully mislead old wrinkly knights.

At first pretending not to pay attention to the advice of the mischievous sprite, Luke suddenly had an inexplicable change of mind. He turned north and continued walking, till dusk set in and he decided that it was time to rest. When he opened his backpack to search for some of his remaining provisions, he found it filled to the brim with delicious red forest berries.  Those mischievous pixies, he thought to himself. You never know. You just never know.

-

The giggling pixies had indeed been right. With his slow shuffling pace, it took him about two days and nights till he reached the entrance of the red cave.  He had spotted it from a distance, nestled between ancient rock formations like a long-kept secret.  The red cave was named after its brilliant ochre like color. It was indeed the strangest cave in the vicinity and also one of the largest. Its entrance stood open and gaping, reminding Luke of a giant mouth expecting to be fed. Whatever was waiting inside, Luke was ready for it.  The cave entrance itself was not that high above ground level, perhaps 15 feet.  For a young man it would not be a difficult climb at all. For a young man that was.  Coupled with his injured leg, it was going to take Luke some time to reach it.  Casting aside the stick he had relied on all this time, Luke took a deep breath and began the climb.

When he finally reached the cave entrance, pain-stricken and exhausted, the sun had already made its way westwards in the sky, settling down in a soft bed of brilliant orange light.  Luke looked long and hard at the sight, realizing how long he hadn’t observed and appreciated a sunset. It might the best last sunset in his long life.  Swaying like a wave ridden ship, Luke drew his sabre from its holster and then the pistol from his belt, holding a weapon in each hand. Perhaps the pixies were right, perhaps he did look like the most ridiculous knight of all time, but damn if he wasn’t the most determined.  Rosalinda I am coming, Luke growled to himself, limping into the open hungry mouth of the mysterious red cave.  

Although Luke had never worn glasses, his eyesight had somewhat worsened in the last years. The further he made his way into the cave, the more its strange darkness began to envelop him.  As he slowly marched forwards, the walls of the cave threw back the echoes of his footsteps like a cruel taunt.  Somewhere from deep inside the red cave, the lonely sound of water dripping from stalactites played on like some sort of macabre backdrop music. Drip. Drop. Drip.

Come out and show yourself you son of a scale infested badger, Luke called into the darkness, suddenly realizing in his heart of hearts what a terrible idea it all was.  I deserve every bit of mockery, he thought to himself. What on earth could he possibly do against a dragon the size of a house? Suddenly a booming voice came out of the dark, a voice that made the walls of the cave rumble like the rattle of an earthquake.

Come closer old man. Come closer and let me look at what gifts you have brought to old Kazimir.

Then out of the dark the massive form of the dragon appeared. It was indeed the way people had described it: a massive winged beast with a horned head like a battering ram and scales the size of bricks. To Luke’s surprise, the expression on its face was not hunger, but rather a sort of amusement. It was perhaps the amusement a cat would feel, if a mouse were to challenge it to a fight. 

Oscar lifted his trembling hand holding the gun and pointed it right at the enormous head of the dragon.

Give me back my Rosalinda your scaly abomination! he yelled at the dragon, the echo of his frail human voice returning and mockingly dancing around the cave walls.

The dragon suddenly burst into a roar of thundering laughter. For a moment, Luke thought that the laugh was going to make the cave walls come crashing in.

Your Rosalinda? You came to here to rescue her? Well, my fierce human foe, I fear that I have already picked my teeth with her bones. I must say, it wasn’t the best dinner. Very old meat.

Hearing the dragon’s mocking words, Luke let out an anguished scream and charged, as fast as an old limping man was capable of, the dragon. He aimed for the massive head and fired a shot. The shot hit the dragon, but seemed to reverberate from its scales like a nail hitting a wall that was too thick. The dragon let out an annoyed grunt and with lightning speed grabbed Luke with its right arm. It lifted him up towards its face.

You old fool! So, you think you can just come here and shoot dead a dragon that eats cows for dessert? Let me teach you how believing in your human fairy tales always ends.

The dragon lifted Luke above its mouth filled with razor sharp teeth, holding him in an iron grip and dangling him as if he was nothing more than an insect fighting for survival. Luke, still clutching the sabre in his left hand, desperately tried freeing his arm from the dragons’ grip. He struggled, but to no avail. This is how it ends, he thought to himself. The dragon was right. This is how the heroic stories of foolish old man end.

Luke closed his eyes and resigned himself into his inevitable fate.

Oh, for heaven’s sake, a familiar voice suddenly said. Put him down Kazimir. You don’t even like the taste of humans. Especially old humans.

Oh, come now, the dragon answered the familiar voice. Let an old dragon have some fun. I wasn’t going to eat him. You know that.

That foolish old man is a good friend, so put him down now, the voice commanded the dragon.

Luke was so astonished at the sudden turn of events, that he let go of the sabre. It dropped to the ground with a metallic clang. When the dragon put him down, his legs gave away and he dropped to the floor of the cave, all the fight in him having disappeared.

Rosalinda? It cannot be…  Luke said, his voice breaking down to a whisper.  He could hear soft but steady footsteps approaching him, till suddenly he saw her. Standing directly in front of him was an alive and breathing Rosalinda.

Rosalinda at first said nothing, eying him from top to bottom.  All of a sudden, she bursting into a fit of laughter.

Is that meant to be armor? she gasped among uncontrollable fits of laughter.

To the utter astonishment of Luke, the dragon joined in the laughter, once again causing the caves walls to shake and rumble. They both seemed to find incredible amusement at the sight of Luke sitting on the cave floor, exhausted and astonished by what was happening right in front of him.  

Come on you old geezer, Rosalinda said after wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. You must be tired and you look injured. Let’s get you to a warm fire place. You can tell me your story then.

She slowly guided Luke to a blazing little fire, where she helped him sit down. Even though Luke was still to astonished to speak, the fire and the blanket Rosalinda put on his shoulders felt better than he might have ever imagined. After all, he was still alive and not in the belly of the dragon. And here she was, Rosalinda, alive and seemingly doing very well.

Oh Luke, Rosalinda said in a much gentler tone. What were you thinking? What in the name of the seven heavens were you thinking? You fool! Kazimir almost ate you!

Then the words came pouring out of Luke mouth and saying them felt good, felt better than a million warm fires and blankets.

I missed you Rosalinda. I missed you more than I can ever tell you. I am sorry for what happened. I just couldn’t let you go, even if it would have meant the death of me. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being eaten by that dragon.

That is indeed so very brave, but also very stupid, Rosalinda said, all the while smiling in her own special way, a smile that Luke had never forgotten.  I am actually kind of glad you came to rescue me like some brave but very foolish knight.

All of a sudden, Luke felt a deep sadness welling up in him. He put his head on Rosalinda’s shoulder and let the tears stream down his face.

Cry Luke, Rosalinda said. Cry. Tears wash away the pain. They do. Trust me. I know.

Luke only hazily remembered what happened next. He told Rosalinda everything, told her about the fear in Puffington and what he thought had happened to her, about the treasure burying trolls and the mischievous but helpful pixies. At some point of his recounting, exhaustion overcame him and he fell into a deep sleep. When he opened his eyes again, Rosalinda had already prepared a warm steaming meal for him.  The giant dragon was there too, watching him with his paws tucked beneath his chin. How strange it all is, Luke thought to himself.

Your brave friend has awoken, the dragon growled.

I can see that Kazimir, Rosalinda said. Don’t you think about eating him again!

I still haven’t made up my mind about that, the dragon said and chuckled softly, which still sounded like a small earthquake. I should tell him the story about the last knight who tried coming into my cave without knocking. Very amusing story.

You don’t even like old rancid meat, Rosalinda said. Remember, you didn’t eat me when you had the chance.

Well, the dragon said. I still might. I still might. I haven’t decided on dinner yet. Your friend over there is looking more delicious by the minute.

Both of them started laughing, a combination which sounded utterly strange to Luke.

He felt much better and even though the sight of the massive dragon still filled him with awe, the worst of his fear had somehow subsided.

Do I have a word in me being eaten? he asked and tried to stand up.

Easy there my old boy! Rosalinda cried out. You are still injured. Let’s get you some help for that.

If I don’t find myself some fat sheep today, I might just change my mind, the dragon said and lifted himself up, his horned head almost reaching the cave ceiling. I will be on my way now. Can I bring you anything, Rosalinda? Are there any other old lovers in your village that are also thinking of rescuing you?

Oh yes, Rosalinda said. I mean no! I buried them all. If you could maybe raid some clothing line and bring us some warm clothes for my shivering friend Luke. He can’t stay in that ridiculous uniform forever.

Being friends with a human really does degrade a dragon, Kazimir said. Raiding clotheslines is not what we hatch for. We are mythical fire breathing beasts of lore.

Be a good lad, Rosalinda said to the dragon and blew him a kiss.

As if I have a choice, the dragon said, chuckling. He began moving towards the cave exit and the weight of his footsteps reverberated around the cave. I will back soon. Take good care of the other human.

I will, Rosalinda said and turned towards Luke. I am pretty certain you are hungry, seeing that you fell asleep before I could stuff anything in your mouth. Do you prefer mutton or beef?

-

The next days were, strangely enough, some of the happiest of Luke’s life. The dragon had indeed come back and brought him some ill-fitting clothes. But what did dragons know about human clothes anyway? Together the three of them forged a strange kind of comradery, with the dragon leaving on his errands and often bringing them back things Rosalinda they needed.  At night, when Luke and Rosalinda were cuddling near the fire, Kazimir would tell them stories of his exploits and adventures. Kazimir had lived a very long life and had seen and experienced things that would have previously been unimaginable to Luke. Luke would listen in astonishment to these stories and tales. At one point, he was overcome with the realization that Puffington wasn’t the world and despite him being an old man, he had not seen or experienced very much at all.  Days passed and if it had been up to Luke, he would have wished for this time with Rosalinda, and Kazimir to go on forever. But Luke knew that this was an impossible wish. He knew that there was a reason why Rosalinda hadn’t been eaten by a dragon, had in fact forged a friendship with the giant beast.  One day when Kazimir was gone again, Luke finally asked the question he had been wanting to ask for a long time.

Rosalinda. I don’t know much about dragons, but I read somewhere that when their times comes to die, they return to the place where they were born. Is Kazimir dying? Is that why you are here together in this cave? Is he perhaps an old friend of yours?

Luke, Rosalinda said. I held out in telling you, since I didn’t want to immediately ruin those final moments we are having together, but now you need to know.  It is not Kazimir who is dying, but me. I have known it for a long time and even though I was lonely, I was prepared for death and what is to come.  When Kazimir snatched me that morning, I thought that this was going to be the end. To my surprise, he didn’t eat me. He took me to this cave and told me a fantastic story about my great-great grandfather Hermonius, a story of him hiding a precious secret from the world. The cave he found was not in some far away country, but right here!  As often as he could, he would care for the siblings, knowing only that once other people would discover his secret, they would surely murder them in cold blood. My grandfather made people believe that he was mad and that the stories he told, were pure fiction and it worked!  Even though he tried his best to keep the dragon siblings alive, only one survived. It was given the name Kazimir. I was told by him that once a human and a dragon form a bond, there can be nothing stronger. It is a bond that even transcends deaths and is sometimes passed on through generations. When my great-grandfather’s time came, Kazimir came back for him.  I am the last surviving member of my family. I don’t know how Kazimir knew, but somehow in my final days he came back for me. He came back to pay his respect and to show his gratitude. Dragons have an understanding of reality that we humans do not possess. We humans live in our small little corners and think that we know everything there is to know. I will not go alone Luke. Kazimir will be by my side when death comes knocking. Once I am gone, he will leave Puffington and only return when it his time to pass.

You are dying? Luke asked, feeling deep burning heartache at the thought. Don’t say that Rosalinda.  

Oh, you old fool, Rosalinda said gently. You old love sick fool. They say old love doesn’t die. It truly doesn’t. But death isn’t someone to be avoided. He always comes on time. Always. You must know that.

I know, Luke said. I just am so glad we met again before… his voice cracked under the pressure of emotions and he didn’t find the words to finish his sentence.

Look Luke, Rosalinda said. I am also glad that you came back to me in those final days, but I don’t want you to be here when it happens. I will die with Kazimir by my side. When I am dead, he will burn me with his fire. My ashes and bones will be scattered by the wind, never to bother anybody again. It is a great honor to be guided by a dragon, when that final moment comes. It is the way it needs to be.  I ask you only to remember me the way that I was. Remember the good parts of me. Just please forget about the old wrinkly ass and the sagging breasts.

Rosalinda laughed and Luke felt awe at how cheerful she seemed to be, even in the face of her imminent demise.

I will never forget you, Luke said. I will remember you always. I promise.

Oh, you hopeless old romantic! Rosalinda cried out. Not always! Just don’t forget about me. That’s all I am asking.  Promise me that.

I promise, Luke said, choking back the tears.  

I know you won’t Luke, Rosalinda said, leaning her head against Luke’s frail old shoulder. You came to rescue me. You never forgot till now. You never forgot.

-

A very important lesson that all people eventually learn, is that all things must come to an end. Since that moment Rosalinda had told her secret to Luke, he had dreaded the day he knew must eventually arrive.  One morning Rosalinda approached him and Luke immediately knew that that this was the day.

Luke, Rosalinda said gently. I don’t have long on this earth. I need you to listen to me now. When I die, I want only Kazimir by my side. He will guide me through that unavoidable gate. It is a great honor to have a dragon guide you to the other realm. Our ancestors knew that, but most people today have forgotten. I don’t want you to see me in pain. I don’t want you to see me suffer. I want you to remember me in the best way possible. A long time ago you didn’t accept what I told you and it broke both our hearts. Please. Accept my final wishes now. Please.

Luke again felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he knew that this time was going to be different. The time for not accepting was over.

I understand Rosalinda, he said. I will be strong for both us.  

That is good Luke, Rosalinda said with a sly smile. Old age has certainly changed you. Before good old Kazimir takes you home, I have one final request.

Anything, Luke said. Anything for you.

I have a letter for you. Do not open it till you reach home. Promise to always, keep it close to your heart. Promise me that.

Luke embraced Rosalinda and felt his old man tears wet her gray hair.

Easy now, Rosalinda said, stroking his head. Be strong for the both of us. I know you are. You have proven it by coming wanting to kill dragon. If that isn’t bravery, what is? Kazimir is coming to take you home. I am sure the children of Puffington have missed you greatly and need their beloved story teller back. Go now. Please.

Luke could hear the heavy footsteps of the dragon approaching them.

I will take you home now old friend, the dragons deep voice sounded behind him. It is time.  Come on now. There is an end to everything, even dragons.

Wait, Luke cried out. Just give me a few more moments with her. Just a few more moments. That is all I am asking for!

Goodbyes should be goodbyes, Rosalinda said. Be strong Luke. You promised. It has been an absolute pleasure to have you here with us. Kazimir. Bring him home safely.

Suddenly Luke felt the earth under his feet shift away, as the dragon lifted him from the ground and gently set him on his scaled back. The dragon began walking towards the cave exit and from the dragons back Luke watched Rosalinda stand silently watching him. Then as the deep dank cave gave way to a beautiful sunlit day, Rosalinda disappeared forever.  Luke remembered her plea for him to be strong and he decided to be so, for her and for the friendship that had united them all those years. He wiped the tears from his eyes and felt the dragon lift them up into the air.  Watching the world disappear from atop the dragons back, he felt like the smallest rider in the world. Everything familiar became a blend of rushing colors and wind, the world beneath their feet turning into a swirl of tiny toy-sets. It felt so different to everything he had previously experienced that Luke closed his eyes, giving into the incredible sensation. Dry your tears, the dragon said. Only very few people have even ridden the back of a dragon. Those who tried, ended up not on my back but in my belly. Consider yourself lucky. We will be home soon.

-

When they had reached Puffington, the dragon landed directly in the middle of the town square. The people watching the fantastic spectacle of a massive dragon and a human rider, froze to the place where they stood. With eyes filled with terror and mouths agape, they dropped their groceries and belongings to the ground and fled in terror. All this bothered neither the dragon nor Luke. Kazimir gently, as gentle as a dragon could be, helped Luke get down from his back to the ground.  

Thank you Kazimir, Luke said, still feeling the earth under his feet wobble like waves crashing into a boat. I will never forget you. I know now that people can be wrong about many things, they are absolutely sure of.

They most certainly are, the dragon answered. As for you, I have met and eaten many a great warrior in my times. You, Luke, have been the bravest of them all. I wish you happiness my friend and always look to the sky. You might see a friend there.  

Kazimir flapped his large beautiful wings, making the air swirl around Luke’s face like the breath of a hurricane. Luke watched until Kazimir had become only a small dot in the endless blue sky. He continued to stand in the market place for a while, until finally turning around and walking the empty streets back to his beloved home.

When Luke reached his home, the old striped cat was already waiting for him, rubbing itself against his legs and letting out an endless pour of satisfaction.

Hello my friend, Luke said and bent down to pet his striped companion. I never thought I would see you again, but I must say it feels good to be home.

He opened the door and the cat let itself in, eager for food and the warmth of Luke’s home. Inside there was only silence and the sound of the clock: tick-tack, tack-tick. Luke dropped himself into the brown rocking chair, closing his eyes for a moment before opening the letter he was now holding in his trembling hands.

Dear Luke,

I am glad you finally understood that in my own way, I have always loved you. I want you to know that the older I grew, the more I learned how desperately we need each other. How desperately we fill each other’s days with laughter, anger, hope, humanity and misery. I missed you dear Luke. I missed you more than I could ever tell you. Thank you for trying to save me and always remember those days we spend climbing trees, exploring caves and running across green meadows. They will come again. I promise.

Your loving friend forever,

Rosalinda

Luke put the letter on his lab, closed his tear-filled eyes and smiled. When he slept that night, he dreamt of dragons, pixies and endless skies. And of course, beautiful Rosalinda.

[secretkingdomjellyfish]

Another day, another penny...

Here we are again. Life has become even harder with COVID doing the rounds and offing every poor sod and his granny. I actually thought I had already witnessed or experienced the worst of what humanity had to offer but no, life and society continued to surprise me. From the hypocritical ‘clap for our carers’ movement (The same people who clapped where the same people in the supermarket the next day sneezing on your eyeballs - two meter rule, people!!) to our world leaders and celebrities telling the world ‘we are all in it together’ whilst they lounged in their 20 room mansions. It was all a bit...shallow. Every month is like opening the world’s shittiest advent calender only rather than getting a nice little piece of chocolate behind each window, we get some new unseen horror unleashed on us.

Then came the BLM riots. Another black man was killed by corrupt cops who gave absolutely zero fucks about him or anyone else. People were, entirely and justifiably, angry and the protests began but then something else happened. I had already seen this phenomenon slowly creeping it’s way in with COVID making the rounds but I just put it down to me being bitter and angry at life, therefore my perception of people (I had already set the bar WAAAAAY low) was skewed.

I saw people take advantage of an entire society’s grief. I saw the vultures circle to loot and hate or to share their idiologies of hate and pain and recruit more angry, tired teenagers to do their twisted bidding.

I saw both extremes of the coin take advantage of the situation to spread that same hate and lash out at the other side. ‘Don’t look at us, look at what the other side are doing!’ I heard them cry. ‘The people protesting are just violent thugs, look at them causing all this damage, how else are the police meant to act?!’. ‘It’s not us, we are just so tired of the police taking advantage of us and I REALLY need these new Nikes’.

But then there were the people in the middle. The people who just wanted real change. The people who just wanted the hate, the pain and the injustice to stop. Those people marched and protested and wanted their voices heard. Who were seeing what I and many others were seeing and wanted to restore the balance. Unfortunately they were quickly drowned out by the screeching of the two extremes and it became a game of ‘who could sling the most mud to deflect from their own actions’.

To say I’m sickened is an understatement. I’m embarrassed and I’m ashamed. I’m ashamed to even call myself a human being. My heart is utterly breaking at how broken we really are, how much trauma has been ignored and how easily we are influenced by shiny, new things. How the media continually drives us, like the herd animals we are, to consume, to buy, to hate others that are different to us. To make us think that our little tribe, family, race are the best and everyone else is wrong.

Do me a favour. Find a story. Any major story and then go read/watch/listen to several different news outlets (on both sides of the coin - you know who they are) and see how they report it. I can assure you, it will be like watching a different story altogether. Don’t get me wrong, they all have the very basic facts but they simply cater to their audience. No wonder people think they are right, they are surrounded by others who think the same way. They feel a kinship in a really scary world. The leaders (not the real movements, not the real game changers) take with one had and point with the other.

Plato had it right with his cave anology. Those shadows that the people can see are just that. Shadows. Boogymen. Nothing more than smoke and mirrors. I get that the world is scary, I get that we don’t understand even a fraction of how the world works and I understand so SO well that it feels good to find others who think the same way as you and even if you ‘see the light’ and see the world for what it really is, there are few who will listen to you. Most of us took the blue pill because the truth is just too painful to bear.

However, a new pattern has emerged here. A much more dangerous way of thinking. We just don’t allow ourselves to be wrong, it physically hurts! Everything we do is so emotional today. Everyone just wants to think emotionally rather than taking all of three seconds to think about something logically and rationally.

Society is full of adult toddlers who have a tantrum when they are challenged. Rather than giving them our time, we should be giving them a sippy cup with chocolate milk and a nap. I get it, it feels bloody good to scream and be angry. To blame someone other than yourself or your leaders for the life you have lived. All those missed chances? Not your fault, not your parents or your leaders fault. It was those pesky (insert blameless minority here)

Now I can already hear many of you shouting ‘I hear you lamenting but I don’t hear you coming up with any answers’ but the solution is simple. The implementation is incredibly complex and difficult and (unfortunately I believe it is also impossible but I’m praying I’m wrong) will require everyone to do their part but the answer is so SO simple. Equality.

I don’t mean the bullshit ‘everyone should be treated the same’ that’s not equality. I’m saying EVERYONE should be given the same chances regardless of their race, gender, sexuality, sex, wealth. Instead, the world is incredibly unbalanced and unequal and I have strong feeling that mother nature is about to shift it back into balance because she is a bad bitch who is fed up with us just taking but not giving back.

In my teens I went through a phase (I can hear the sniggering in the back). I found wicca (I can now hear louder sniggering). Now this phase lasted about 6 months and generally involved me wearing a lot of black, buying some coloured candles and generally trying out some cool spells because I could now do motherfucking magic biatches! But, soon enough, it fissled out and I got bored and moved onto something else (mainly the grunge scene - they, just, like...got me, you know?). But, I took one of my very core beliefs away from it. As at the heart of this beautiful religion it was all about balance. Whatever you took, you had to give back and EVERYTHING came back threefold - you had pay the dammed ferryman (you always have to pay eventually and not always in the ways you expect) . So, you sent out good vibes? You got those good vibes magnified right back atcha! Kind of a witchy butterfly effect.

Furthermore (check me out with the academic phrasing..eh? eh?!) many of followers of Wicca believed that their main deity was simply like a multi faceted diamond with many faces and each aspect simply reflected a different religion, deity or belief system and that she was always with them no matter what deity they believed in. (disclaimer - It’s been a long time since I was involved in this so if I’m wrong, please accept my deepest and most sincere apologies) but, again, it kinda made sense to me at the time (and still does). When I first started, it was new, it was different and it gave me purpose but then the glamor kinda got scraped off and I actually had to do some hard work and, being a teenager, I was just not into that.

Now I know many of you are asking ‘what the hell has this got to do with the price of cheese’ but bear with me because the answer is, again, relatively simple.

It’s all about balance. We have taken but not given back for so long. As a society we think that being successful is hoarding as much wealth as possible, drinking champagne and eating caviar whenever we feel like it, occasionally giving a few quid to charity to show that ‘we’re in this together’ because that is what the media have us believe. That it’s the ULTIMATE goal to have your own private jet and generally just whittle your life away doing nothing but pamper yourself.

We think the only way to achieve this is to take it by force. To be ruthless and cutthroat and step on as many heads as we can to get to the top, right?! That’s always been the way it was done!

However, that might have worked for a while but, as a society we have kinda went full circle and are right back at the start - openly rejecting facts and evidence for emotion (well it feels better to believe in x therefore it must be x) and anecdotal evidence (if you crack an egg at the fulll moon whilst hopping on one foot, you will totally get rid of that cancer - it totally worked for a friend of a friend so it must be true).

Right now the world is a giant carnival game and we all know those carnival games are rigged as shit. Step right up, Steeeep right up! Come along, try your luck! Why you look like an amazingly (add appropriate adjective here) individual, I bet YOU could win - not like any of these other chumps. The whole thing is rigged in favour of the wealthy and powerful and, in all honesty, I completely understand. It’s in our very nature.

It’s been so insidiuous and we have been bombarded so much with this message that we now have an entire generation of very broken and exhausted individuals who think that surviving and living are the same thing. News flash. They’re not.

This is why we are in the situation we are in. We have simply been sleep walking and ignoring what is right in front of us. In order to move on, we need to accept some really hard truth and take a long, good look at who we are as both individuals and as a society. Honestly? I don’t think we are ready for that yet the other two options are to continue the way we are going and let mother nature do her thing or simply destroy ourselves in the process. We are quickly running out of options and I REALLY don’t want to be the guy who said ‘I told you so’.

Now before anyone starts with the whole ‘you’re so wrong because (insert appropriate defense here) just stop and think for three seconds. Let that knee jerk reaction go and give it time to sink in. Even read it again if you have the attention span to do so and then think. Is he really wrong? Maybe the truth just hurts.

TL;DR - society is really broken and there’s no easy fix.

#wtf #covid #blm #hardchoice #depression #anxiety #currentaffairs

[nukagalreacts]

This is for nya-for-you who requested romanced Fo4 Companions reacting to Sole throwing them a surprise party Part-One

Hope you enjoy this first part! I really enjoyed writing it! And thank you again for the request 

Hancock: Sole had been planning this surprise party for well over a month, making sure to invite everyone in Goodneighbor, getting the Third Rail stocked up on the best booze and stocking up on the chems for a night as wild as Hancock was. Now the night had finally come and they had The Third rail all set up just the way they wanted and they double checked that everyone on the party list was there before telling everyone to stay low and get quiet while they ran and got Hancock for the surprise party. Trying to hide all of these preparations and getting things set up without their lover noticing had been a bitch, but they couldn’t wait to see the look on his face once he saw everything, it would all be worth it to see that damn smile of his. They led him by the hand into the eerily silent bar before everyone jumped out yelling surprise and nearly giving him a heart attack, before he burst into laughter and a huge smile. He couldn’t believe Sole had done all of this for him and was sure to give them lots of hugs and smooches the whole night while mingling with everyone else. Between the drinking and hits of jet they also squeezed in lot’s of dancing together while Magnolia sang in the background, and Hancock couldn’t stop smiling as he looked in Sole’s eyes before pulling them in for another kiss.

MacCready: Sole had set up a small surprise party just involving his son Duncan and a few other friends like Hancock, Cait,and even Dogmeat! Sole had arranged to surprise him by having Duncan come to Sanctuary and throw a little party to celebrate them reuniting and Duncan no longer being sick. They managed to get everyone together at the house MacCready and them now lived in and help clean up and gather up every delicious snack and beverage needed for such a festive occasion, and even managed to get the ingredients to bake a delicious cake. Once everything was set up Sole went and grabbed MacCready saying they had a surprise at home for him, and covered his eyes as they led him him back to the house and into the living room. Soon as they moved their hands and Mac saw his son he rushed towards him pulling him into a bear hug, crying tears of joy. After the hugs and tears where done he was sure to kiss Sole, long and hard and remind them how much he loved them. The others were sure to congratulate Mac on having his Son back, before everyone started fighting over who go what piece of the cake before Dogmeat made the decision for them and eat the whole thing off the table.

Nick: Sole thought Nick deserved some kind of surprise party for all the hard work he does and the little he gets in return for risking his life all the time, so they worked with Ellie to plan something out. They even called in a few favors from some of the settlers to get everything they wanted to give to Nick as a sort of thank you gift. What Sole didn’t expect though is how many gifts and thank you letters they had to keep hiding in the office from Nick that grateful citizens he had helped in the past kept sending in, they were starting to have to get creative so Nick didn’t know what was happening. When the day came Sole had Ellie distract Nick and get him out of the office for awhile while they arranged everything and made sure to grab everyone who wanted to be their for the occasion into hiding before he came back, and of course little Shaun was there to, which wouldn't have  even be possible if Nick hadn’t helped them to find him in the first place. When Ellie brought Nick back they all jumped out to surprise him with Sole being quick to wrap their arms around him saying they thought they deserve a little party and a break from detective work and what better way to do that than with friends and loved ones. Nick was speechless and couldn’t believe that Sole did all this for him, and the amount of people here to celebrate him, but he smiled the whole party and couldn’t stop telling Sole how much they loved them!

Piper: Sole was excited to celebrate Piper’s newfound success at being a genuine full time journalist , with the Institute gone and people more relaxed in the Commonwealth and changes brought to Diamond city, Piper had seen the purchase of her newspaper skyrocket and was making a huge amount of caps which was exciting for Sole and her. Sole even helped Piper purchase a bigger building so they could live together and run the business, and it was the happiest both had been in a long time. Sole wasn’t about to let this huge milestone go un-celebrated so they immediately began making plans, getting Piper’s sister Nat to help set things up in secret because what else are sisters for! It was going to be kinda like a surprise party but also a romantic evening between the two of them. The surprise came when Nat led Piper up to the rooftop of their new home and Piper found it transformed into a place of soft glowing candles, and a table set up with red wine, and a tasty dinner prepared by their favorite robot chef Takahashi. Once Nat left Sole was quick to pull Piper into a soft kiss and a hug telling her how proud they were of everything she had accomplished, making Piper smile and squeeze Sole a bit harder, feeling lucky to have someone as supportive and caring as them in their life.

Preston: As General of the Minutemen what better way to use your soldiers then to have them help you set up a giant surprise party for Preston at the castle! Everyone was on board and did what they could chipping in and gathering up Preston's favorite foods and Nuka Colas and decorating the castle, while Sole distracted him by taking him out on a trip far away from all the action. Preston was a little suspicious for the reasoning of going out to the middle of nowhere but was happy to play along if it meant getting some alone time with Sole, which was rare. Occasionally Sole would sneak off to get radio updates on the party set up progression and give directions on different things, before they finally got the green light to bring Preston back to the castle. They felt giddy the whole time as they held Prestons hand leading him back home and seeing his eyes light up as he saw the castle fully lit up and decorated! He asked Sole what the occasion was and they just squeezed his hand saying it was for everything he had done for them and for dedicating his life to rebuilding the Minutemen. The rest of the evening and night was spent with food and drink, and close friends, telling stories and looking forward to the future.

Strong: Sole wasn’t sure how the super mutant would react to a surprise party, but they where dying to find out and even got MacCready involved since him and Strong got along so well. They of course had to have it outside somewhere and got a huge bonfire going where they could cook up some of Strong’s favorite meats like radstag steak and mirelurk egg omelettes. They weren't able to keep Strong away for long though with all delicious food smells wafting in the air which led Strong right to their location. It was even funnier when Sole tried to explain this was supposed to be a surprise party, Strong didn’t get the concept at all and wasn’t sure why Sole felt the need to surprise him at all, super mutants don’t like surprises unless it’s in battle. He was happy about all the food though and dug in tearing away at the large chunks of radstag and stuffing the mirelurk egg omelettes into his mouth. Sole and Mac where barely able to grab any for themselves and laughed at how eager Strong was and the huge mess he was making, Sole was glad they were able to have someone as great as Strong and how fortunate it was they had run into him when they did, it never hurt to have a super mutant on your side out here.

X6-88: Sure their had been celebrations held at the Institute for various reasons over the years but X6 had never been apart of them, and in all honesty he had very little interest in parties. Sole was determined to do something nice for him though and really wanted to hold a surprise party for the courser so they worked with some other synths and coursers and a few others they had befriended to help them out with the plans. It was kinda cute really because X6 actually knew what Sole was planning because he had heard about it from some others synths, but he loved Sole and played along pretending to not know anything. When the day came Sole was bubbling with excitement and was quick to pull X6 along by the hand to the room where the party would be, and he still pretended to be surprised though the whole thing really did make him smile, which was a rarity in itself. Sole had even made them a cake which X6 actual enjoyed because he had never had one before, and that’s when he also discovered he had a sweet tooth and Sole laughed when he ate about half of the cake.

Dogmeat: Sole wanted to celebrate their favorite furry friend so they had been in the kitchen all day whipping up some dog friendly sweet treats they knew Dogmeat would love! They also made up enough for all of Dogmeats other doggy friends he had made over the year in Sanctuary. They also gathered up a bunch of chew toys for all of them and dog proofed their house, so it didn’t get destroyed. Sole even got Dogmeat to wear a party hat, and they couldn’t stop smiling at how cute he looked, and they got a few of the other dogs to wear party hats as well. Once the party got into full swing and all the dogs were having a good time playing together and running around, Sole presented them all with dog bone shaped treats and  Dogmeat got his own little cake which he happily chowed down on as Sole gave him head scratches and belly rubs calling him the best boy ever!  

Part two will be out late tonight or sometime tomorrow 

[saywhatjessie]

Groundhogs in Sweaters

PBExchange gift for @gemoedstoestanden! 2.4k (Ao3)

“You ever think about what our lives would be like if the monsters looked like how they were supposed to?”

Sam frowned, marking his place with his finger before lifting his attention from the book he was reading. “What do you mean?”

“Like fairytales,” Dean continued. “The monsters in fairytales are never like how they are in real life. Wouldn’t it be cool if they were?”

Sam’s mouth twitched, his elbow coming up to the table so he could lean closer to Dean. “Like what?”

“Dragons, for one.” Dean snorted, petulantly. “They just looked like people! Garbage. I want a big fuckin lizard. With wings! He could be my new steed.”

Sam snorted back. “I’m telling the impala.”

“Don’t you dare!” but Dean was still smiling, delighted by this exercise he’d started. “Witches, too. Screw spells that need ingredients and body fluids.” Dean shuddered. “Why can’t there be magic wands? Wands are way cooler than bones of saints and all that shit.”

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “And you called me ‘Dumbledork’?”

“It’s just more sanitary, Samantha!” Dean threw a napkin at him, kind of ruining his point about cleanliness. “And people would probably not get as dead.”

Sam shrugged, allowing the point. “Sure. There’s always gonna be bad beings who want to hurt people, though, Dean.”

Dean grimaced, throwing another napkin at Sam. “Whatever. At least if I had real genies instead of frickin djinn, I might get real wishes. And Robin Williams is awesome.”

Sam barked a laugh. “Interesting you’d go for Aladdin over I Dream of Jeannie. ”

Dean lifted up his hands in a ‘what can you do’ kind of way. “Listen: Barbara Eden was hot in her day and I’ll catch a rerun when it’s on. But Robin Williams is forever.”

Sam laughed again in what Dean took as agreement.

“We deserve some freaking wishes by now. And a freaking dragon friend.”

Sam cleared his throat to dislodge some of the chuckles still coming out. “We have another kind of winged friend,” Sam mused. “You can try and make Cas your steed.”

Dean wasn't sure what kind of expression he made, but it must have been really something for Sam to throw his head back and laugh like that.

  After that conversation with Sam, things got a little bit weird around the bunker.

To start with, Dean kept having to shoo mice and squirrels outside. It wasn’t super uncommon to find rodents–-they were underground and the bunker had been uninhabited for decades before the Winchesters got there. And they did mostly like to hide in dusty cleaning cabinets or disorganized storage rooms. The weird part was that the squirrels and mice and occasional rabbits Dean had to wrangle outside were all wearing tiny clothing.

Dean really should have found this more odd than he did. Truth was, he barely spared it a second thought. Yeah, animals were wearing clothes now. He’d seen weirder.

But it didn’t stop there.

There was also a lot more fruit in the bunker kitchen. This, in itself, wasn’t a huge red flag. Sam was still a health freak and the brothers had gotten better about keeping healthy food in the house for Jack now that the kid was (mostly) human.

The weird part was the food looked… inviting.

As a rule: Dean didn't eat apples unless they were baked into a pie. He thought the skin was waxy, the shape of the apple fit oddly in his mouth, and the simultaneous wetness and dryness of the fruit just made the whole eating experience very unpleasant.

(He was not wrong about these things.)

The apples in the bunker in the past few days just looked really delicious, though. Dean couldn’t explain it. So he ate them.

They weren’t amazing as foods go – Dean would still choose a baguette over an apple as his side at Panera – but after eating them, he weirdly had more energy. It was like a full night’s sleep. But only sometimes.

If he ate an apple at night, it actually helped him sleep. If he ate an apple at night before a hunt, he could swear his eyesight got sharper.

When he tried to tell Sam about the weird apples they’d gotten, Sam just tried to tell him that eating healthy meant you got healthier and that’s why Dean had been feeling so good.

And Dean might have believed him if it weren’t for the last thing.

Dean had just been innocently washing his face in his room.

He looked up in the mirror and winked at his reflection. “Hey, good lookin.”

“I’d tell you to ‘hey yourself’, but you literally just did.”

Dean jumped, eyes darting around.

It had sounded almost like Cas’s voice but Cas was supposed to be on a beer and pie run.

“Uh, hello?”

“Haven’t we already gone over customary greetings?”

Dean was still startled even though he was ready for it. There had definitely been a voice.

And it sounded like it was coming from the mirror.

Dean blinked at his reflection. The reflection blinked back, completely like normal.

Dean thought about waving his hand in front of it to make sure the mirror still worked, but he felt like that would be perfect ammunition for mocking if the mirror really was talking to him. So he refrained.

Instead, he said, “Uh, mirror mirror on the wall?”

“Real original, Dean.”

Yup, it was the mirror.

“Any follow up questions or do you just enjoy hearing yourself talk?”

Dean snorted and crossed his arms, a little offended.

“Any reason you can talk now? And why you’re kind of an asshole?”

If a mirror could have lungs, Dean would have sworn it had sighed. “I’m a magic mirror. It’s kind of in the job description to be judgemental. How else could I tell ‘the fairest of them all’?”

Dean tilted his head in acceptance. “Okay. But could you always talk? Why do you sound like Cas?”

“Well your angel, Castiel, enchanted me. Don’t you think you would have known you had a talking mirror by now if this wasn’t a recent development? I feel like you talk to your reflection a lot.”

Dean shifted on his feet, scowling. “You don’t know me.”

If the mirror had eyes it would have rolled them. “Okay, Dean.”

So that just left the question of why Cas had enchanted the mirror.

“Did Cas do something to the fruit in the kitchen?” Dean asked the mirror. “And is he why I found a groundhog in a sweater in my shower yesterday?”

“Probably,” the mirror said, bored. “I can’t say for sure – I’m magic but I’m not all-knowing. All I know is that Castiel enchanted me for a reason. That reason might have also made him do weird shit like that. He’s a weird dude.”

“That’s what I said!” Dean blurted before lowering his voice. “It’s really funny to hear you roast Cas when you sound like Cas.”

“I could go back to roasting you if you think that would be more appropriate.”

“Ha, no. No, it’s okay. In fact I think I’m just gonna–” Dean pointed at his bedroom door, making a hasty retreat.

He could hear the mirror call him a coward as he left.

  Dean walked into the war room right as Cas was closing the door to the bunker.

“Hey there, pal,” Dean said, watching amused as Cas struggled to carry his giant grocery bags down the spiral stairs. “Need some help?”

Cas glared at him, already having made it down the stairs.

Dean grinned, walking forward to relieve Cas of one arm of groceries. Cas sighed, the relief of having some of his burden lifted obvious.

“Thank you,” he said, grudgingly.

Dean just winked. “Let’s get these to the kitchen.”

Castiel hummed in agreement, turning down the hall before waiting to see if Dean was following him. Dean trailed behind, watching Cas for any strange behavior.

If the mirror was right and Cas was doing all this weird stuff around the bunker, he would be acting differently, right? At the very least he’d be watching Dean to see how Dean responded to his new mirror friend.

And, if Dean was being picky, Cas did seem a little jumpy.

Cas was more delicate in setting his bags down once they reached the kitchen. Dean dropped his heavily on the table, making the cans in the bags rattle ominously.

Cas glared at him again. “You’re lucky the eggs weren’t in there.”

Dean shrugged.

Cas rolled his eyes, before turning to pull the fridge open, moving things around to make room for their new groceries.

Dean watched him, removing things from bags and putting them on the counter in Cas’s reach.

He was trying to be unobtrusive, waiting for an opening until he could ask Cas about the mirror, but Cas was doing everything wrong.

“No, Cas, why would you put bread in the fridge? Are you trying to dry it out?”

Cas turned, already frowning at Dean. “Cold temperatures preserve food for longer.”

“But it makes it taste worse, man.” Dean snatched the bread out of his hands, putting it in his designated bread drawer next to the oven. “Don’t mess with a good thing.”

He paused, thinking that that was a good a segue as anything.

“Speaking of,” he started, turning to lean his hip on the counter, crossing his arms. He was going for casually inquisitive rather than accusatory. “Any reason my mirror gave me attitude this morning?”

Cas froze, his arm halfway to the fridge weighed down by an entire case of beer. Or it would have been weighed down if not for friggin angel strength.

He turned to Dean with wide eyes. “Your mirror was mean to you?”

Dean rolled his eyes, his mouth quirking up. Of course that was the part Cas was focusing on.

“Not that mean, Cas. No meaner than Sam. I just meant why was it talking to me at all ?”

Cas shrugged, moving things in the fridge around so he could fit the case in. “I thought you might like it.”

Dean just blinked, waiting for Cas to continue.

Cas sighed, his shoulders slumping. Before closing the refrigerator door and turning to Dean.

“I heard you talking to Sam. About how monsters are supposed to be versus the reality.”

Dean frowned, the conversation coming back to him. He remembered only talking about monsters. Nothing weird had happened with monsters recently.

“Obviously, there’s very little I can do about how monsters work,” Cas started, lifting up his arms in a weak presentation of his current state. “Gabriel may have been able to, once upon a time, but he’s dead and I do not have the power of an archangel.”

“Okay…” Dean said, still misty on what Cas had done. And why.

“I still wanted to give you some fairytale things, though,” Cas said, looking sheepish for the first time. “And in my research, I’ve found fairytales have helpful wildlife. And magic fruit. And–”

“And talking mirrors.” Dean chuckled, wiping his mouth with his hand to disguise his amusement. “Were those animals supposed to be cleaning?”

Cas nodded, his shoulders slumped, sure Dean was making fun of him.

Dean reached forward, clapping him hard on the shoulder. “It’s great, buddy. Really. Very cute.”

Cas blushed. Dean didn’t even know he was capable of blushing. He grinned.

“But hey,” Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder again before pulling back and walking around to the table. “Where’s my magic makeover? Or my random musical numbers?”

Cas made a noise of discontent, glaring at Dean as he followed him to the table. “I’ve already told you I’m not powerful enough for illusions that big, Dean.”

Dean grinned, leaning over the table to get right in Cas’s face. “Well, what about a magic kiss? ‘True love’ garbage and all that.”

Cas turned red again, avoiding eye contact. “I think we both know the concept of true love’s kiss is fallible. For one, heaven’s system of love matching is largely defunct, so true love is truly subjective, and for another the practice of kissing someone when they are incapacitated – magically or otherwise – is highly–”

“Cas.” Dean was leaning even closer to Cas now, watching the panic in his eyes fade to suspicion. And then wonder. “Do I look magically incapacitated right now?”

Cas met his eyes, searching. “No…?”

“So would you say I’m fully consenting to my true love kissing me right now?”

Cas swallowed. “I–”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Just kiss me, Cas. Christ.”

Cas hesitated for just a second more before leaning in, cupping Dean’s jaw in his hand, and pressing his lips on Dean’s.

After which Dean immediately turned into a frog.

“How the hell does that even work?!” Dean meant to say, but instead just ribbeted since he was, you know, a frog.

“Shit!” Cas waved his hands helplessly over Dean’s amphibious form. “I forgot about this one. I don’t think I did it right.”

“You think?!” Dean croaked.

“It’s fine, Dean. Another kiss should turn you back.”

Dean ribbited again, more out of temper than anything.

Cas picked him up, gently, and placed him on the table before leaning and and putting his lips to Dean’s pointed, froggy mouth.

Dean blinked and he was human again, sitting on the edge of the kitchen table, gasping.

“What made you think that was a good idea?!” Dean choked, putting a hand to his chest. He was a little overwhelmed by everything.

“I found a list of fairy tale tropes on the internet,” Cas said, face creased in utter humiliation. “I didn’t really think it through.”

Dean huffed a laugh as his breathing evened out. “Well, you undo the mojo on that one immediately. Because I want to kiss you again, this time without shrinking into a body covered in mucus.”

Cas’s eyes widened, like he was astonished Dean would even consider kissing him again.

Dean rolled his eyes, snapping and waving his hands in a ‘hurry up’ type motion. “Let’s go, un-mojo, I’ve been waiting years for this.”

Cas didn’t look like he did anything but Dean felt like he could feel a subtle change in the air. In any case, Cas grabbed Dean’s face with both of his hands to kiss him again and Dean did not turn into a frog.

Even without the magical shape-shifting, it was still a life-changing kiss.

[or-fi-s]

A Thorough Introduction to Succubats

Commission for OvertheLune 

Succubats: Succubats like to hunt for potential hosts that share a gender with themselves. Once they find one, succubats attach at the base of the spine.

What do they do to me? They change your body, expelling all foreign material, and reshaping you generally towards a thin, athletic, and busty (when applicable) ideal of your gender. They often make hosts look fiercer: Claws, sharper teeth, spines, or a giant mouth on the tail are all common. Succubat hosts find that they're healthier and more energetic than they used to be, as the symbiote helps regulate hormone imbalances.

Succubats want their hosts healthy and productive, and things like depression get in the way of that. Symbionts all feel a sense of empathy for their fellow symbionts and succubats. You don't have to be nice to each other, but seeing each other in pain hurts like seeing a puppy or fellow person in pain. Once paired up, a succubat is completely integrated with their host.

Are there any side effects? Kind of. Socially, a lot of people are distrusting of symbiotes and symbionts, sometimes treating them like body snatchers, or zombies, or like sex demons. Law enforcement will look for (or make up) reasons to break up gatherings of succubats and arrest them. Also, succubats want to help a hive and queen. If you don't help any queens at all, the succubat will get sad and lethargic, and you'll start to feel that from them too. If a Symbiont had transformative powers, they'll find that hiding being a succubat requires conscious action. If they just "transform into a human", then they'll be a human who looks like a succubat symbiont. They need to hide their horns, change their color, change their hooves, and hide their succubat tail.

So are you sex demons? No. Hosts are free to have sex, like any consenting adults, but you're not compelled to have sex any more than asyms (non hosts) who happen to be at their physical prime with super attractive bodies and no gender dysphoria, who find themselves surrounded with similarly fit and attractive people. Hives often have a very high concentration of LGBT+ people as well.

Crown Crabs Crown Crabs are adolescent Hive Queens. They're interested in any potential hosts. Crown Crabs attach to the top of the head.

What do they do to me? Like succubats, they expel all foreign material from your body. Crown Crabs cause rapid growth in hosts. Symbionts gain lots of increased muscle mass, as their skeleton grows to accommodate it. Symbionts have massive torsos. They have huge chests, wide shoulders, and big arms and hands. They grow spikes all over their body, mostly on the arms at the shoulder, elbow and knuckles, as well as occasionally along their head and back. Depending on the symbiont's gender, they'll also experience hip growth and breast development.

Crown Crabs have more extreme mental changes, as the symbiote literally takes up residence in their head. Symbionts often describe it as having an excitable and protective dog in their head. Crown Crabs want to protect their hivemates, and especially the symbiotes. You don't need to follow every whim or desire of your symbiote, but if you neglect it, it'll become rebellious and agitated, causing a lot of problems for you mentally. More than another else, a healthy crown crab symbiont is a relationship, as the host and symbiote work together and care about each other. Once paired up, a Crown Crab is completely integrated with their host.

Are there any side effects? Crown Crabs not only experience stronger prejudice against then than succubats, but with their new extreme bodytypes, Symbionts can find they don't fit into spaces not designed to accommodate extremomorphs, including their own home and vehicles. As mentioned earlier, a crown crab can't ignore their symbiote's desire to help the hive without hurting themselves mentally. Crown Crabs need to eat a lot more food to maintain their huge, muscular body. Expect to eat close to 20,000 calories a day. Not eating enough will wear down on your life, permanently. If a Symbiont possessed transformative powers, they'll find they can't hide being a crown crab, as their symbiote always gives it's own twist on the result.

Are Crown Crabs dumb brutes? No. Crown crabs are no less intelligent than they were before becoming a symbiont. They're just big and strong.

Hive Queens Hive Queens are Crown crabs that have been cared for so they can grow to maturity. Hive Queens attach to the spine of hosts.

What do they do to me? Hive queens massively grow symbionts. Hosts grow, become 3 times taller than they used to be, with increased muscle mass, and larger secondary sexual characteristics, depending on their gender. Hive queens gain claws and spikes. Their tail is replaced by, or merged with the Queen's abdomen, a giant womb and incubation chamber. They almost immediately begin laying eggs, creating new succubats and crown crabs to hopefully get people that can help get the Queen Food.

Hive Queens are massively hungry, all the time. They need to not only maintain their body, which is even bigger than crown crabs, but they need the food to make more and more eggs. Hive Queens can't stop making eggs, they can only specify if they're making succubats or crown crabs. Queen Symbionts don't experience much mental changes, just fixed dysphoria and fixed hormones like with all symbionts. However, their dire hunger will drive queens to do anything they can to eat and stay alive. New queens should be prepared with lots of food on hand, and supportive friends, if they want a peaceful transition.

Are there any side effects? The hunger. Queens need more food than any one person can reasonably get, and as they continue living, they continue to grow and need more food. So their food has to be plentiful and sustainable. They also have trouble fitting into the world, and need accommodations that can cater to an extremomorph like them. Queens can also find moving around quickly difficult, as their tail is full of growing and incubating eggs. Overexertion could harm their unborn children. Queens Symbionts are also infertile. The symbiote demands too much from the host to bear children, or to help others do so. Queens can have sex, like any symbiont, but unlike the others, they can't have kids. If a Symbiont possessed transformative powers, they'll find it's impossible to change in a way that would get in the way of being a Hive Queen. Shrinking, changing their tail, and hiding their symbiote are all impossible.

Are Hive Queens all Female? No. Hive queens can be any gender.

Terminology Symbiote - Succubats, Crown Crabs and Hive Queens. An organism that forms a mutually beneficial relationship with a host. Symbiont - The person the symbiote is attached to. Some symbionts prefer this term to "Host". Can also be called by their symbiote. EX: A succubat symbiont can be called a succubat. Asym - Asymbiont. Without a Symbiote. A way to talk about people who aren't symbionts without using words like "normal".

[sparkledeerfr]

Warnings: Brief violence and cannibalism mentions. Nothin’ too bad.

Personal interpretation of the Chaos Rune ahoy. Kinda long.

“I said no,” Morley said as he looked down at Adeline, who had half her body planted on his counter, staring up at him as though puppy dog eyes would change his mind.

“Pllleeeeasssseeeee…?” she tried.

“Noooooooo,” he said back.

“I’ll pay you more than whatever he did.”

“Can you teach me to cook better?” he replied. Adeline sighed and leaned back onto the stool, knowing this particular battle was lost. Damn it. She was really going to miss those udon noodles. Morley rubbed a hand across his mouth, thinking. “What’d you do to piss him off, anyway? He said something about ‘the worst palette he’d ever seen���.”

Adeline sat in the stool, her eyes suddenly going blank.

“Adeline,” he said. She continued to sit perfectly still. “Adeline what did you do?”

“I may,” she squeaked. “...have brought some toridae meat home. After he told me not to.”

“Aren’t those poisonous?”

“Not if you dress ‘em right, geez,” she said, putting a hand up to the bar and pushing herself off the stool. “Just didn’t want to waste good food.”

“Kinda makes me want to put progressively worse food in front of you and see how bad it has to be before you won’t eat it.”

She briefly stuck her tongue in between two fingers. “I’ll eat your sister.”

“Gross,” he said, reaching out to gently slap her head as she ducked and laughed.

“Bye, More!” she waved as she walked away, him giving a brief salute in return. She ignored the gate to the Casino Quarter and instead went to the one leading to The Bone Garden, intending to check up on West and make sure he’d deactivated the brass bull, and not just West style deactivated, which meant ‘it’s currently not moving so it's fine’. That he’d actually put together a giant automaton based on a horrific execution device, turned it on and made it breathe fire and able to eat things for fuel should really not have surprised her by now (this was, after all, the person who made wire traps- aka ‘the people sized egg slicers’), but it still kind of did.

West’s mind always did take a very direct route, and while she couldn’t be mad at Killian for letting him know about all the extra brass she’d come across, she really should have known better.

Adeline made her way over the bridge across The Strix- the large lake just by the Castle, surrounded by ruddy and just slightly green grass. The Strix you had to be careful around. Yeah the water was good, especially with the huge water filter Team Hell’s Half Acre plopped on it, but the sides were made of sharp obsidian rocks jutting from the sides instead of sand or plague soil. There was also the fact that it was funnel shaped and always seemed to contain a slight whirlpool, so if you accidently fell in you were likely to lose some blood to it. Around The Strix was the Bone Garden, the place where Bask had put a collection of monster and beast skeletons, each standing held together with wires, each decorated with protection spells carved into them. The giant shattered serpent she’d killed once upon a time hung over her, and even the bridge contained scrimshaw whale and dracolich bones.

But she saw two people in and among the flowers and statues of the garden, one of which she recognised immediately: Daud. The other was sitting on the ground with his head in his hands, and it took her a moment to place him. Pattel. Was something wrong?

Daud turned and just glanced down to her. “Take him to your girlfriend,” he said.

“Not Lady?” she asked, looking at Pattel, who seemed like he was going to puke or had a hell of a headache. Or both.

Daud shook his head. “Lady won’t know what to do with that,” he replied, and then disappeared from sight with the slightest hint of black smoke. She should be annoyed that he didn’t just do it himself and that he nearly always had to have the last word, but really she was used to that by now. You had to not take things personally with him.

But now she was curious and the slightest bit worried. Adeline bent down and put a hand to Pattel’s shoulder. “Hey, you want to go see Cassandra?” she asked him.

“Real?” Pattel asked, still holding his head in his hands and looking at the ground. Oh that was not a good sign. Everyone had been having a weird couple of weeks, and she’d barely slept thanks to strange and realistic dreams, but she had never seen him like this. Usually he just seemed kind of far off.

“Yeah, it’s Adeline,” she said, trying to lean down enough to catch his eyes. “I’m real. I’m right here bud. Do you want to go see-”

She stopped due to him reaching out to her like a drowning man to a life preserver, hugging around her shoulders. “Charms,” he said softly. “They keep it away.”

“Yup, all right,” she said, putting her own arms around him and slowly lifting him up. He was larger than her in a few ways, but it wasn’t much trouble for her. “What kind of charms keep what away?”

Pattel just seemed to stagger beside her, as though far away and walking in his own dream. After a while, when they had nearly reached to gate to the south city, her arm around his waist and a hand holding onto the arm that was slung across her shoulder, he answered. “Charms that keep the noise away. You wear them.”

Noise? The bone charms she wore maybe did a lot of things, but not really that. “Is it noisy for you right now?” she asked. She took a moment to reach into her pocket and touch the ivory statue there. Cold. Well, at least he wasn’t possessed or something. He nodded. “We’re almost there,” Adeline said, seeing the purple tent with the stitched on white stars, the hand painted wooden sign sitting out front. She wanted to ask if something had happened that had caused this, but if there was anything amiss Daud would likely be taking care of it. “Hun?” she said as she put out a hand to push open the tent flap.

Cassandra stood up the moment she saw them and rushed over, looking over Pattel. “Are you okay?” she asked, then looked to Adeline.

“D said to take him to you.”

Cassandra’s eyes narrowed and she looked back down, gently taking the man’s face in her hands. “Well there is one thing Daud and I share,” she said. Dear boy what happened to you? She thought. “Put him on the chair.”

Adeline did as she was told and then cocked her head at Cassandra,  them sharing a brief conversation in the way of people who knew each other well, without the need for actual words. You want me to stay? No. But he’s kind of- I know and I can take care of myself thank you. Adeline nodded and gave another brief, worried glance to Pattel before leaving.

Cassandra walked over to her table and picked up the crystal ball sitting there before bending down in front of Pattel, who had his face back in his hands. “What are you seeing right now?” she asked gently, putting a hand on his knee.

“Ghosts,” he said. “Not real. Some real.” She nodded.

“Here,” she said, holding the crystal ball up to him. When he didn’t touch it and in fact barely seemed to recognise that she’d spoken, she guided his hand to it instead.

Chaos. The Void. The End. She saw him sat cross legged on a rock, a tiny island in a sea of mist and shards of reality floating like pieces of glass, her now standing beside and seeing what he was seeing. This was not a place meant for the living to be in for very long. Seers could view it- the past, the future, the inevitable destruction of all things, the end of time itself. But it was all only possibilities, and the past was just that.

But here he sat. Alone in his mind. No wonder he was feeling so badly.

She sat down and curled up beside him, a hand on his shoulder, gently stroking it. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “It’s okay its just visions. It’ll pass.”

He didn’t answer, and from the thick mist there seemed to be shards of his past- him younger, without the scars. There seemed to be people he was fighting against. She recognises Morley in one of them. Morley goes down and Pattel retaliates, the people on the floor now missing their-

“You take their hearts?” Cassandra asked.

“Can’t get to me then,” Pattel answered. “Burn out their brains, take their hearts. Can’t be ghosts then. Eat them. Can’t come back to get me.” She nodded, still stroking his shoulder. A particularly violent vision passed in front of them, floating on wind that didn’t exist here, and she flicked a hand to send it away.

This is what seems to get his attention and make him feel better. Deep red Plague eyes look to her. “You can send them away?”

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

“No, I’m sorry,” she replied. “But I can stay here with you until this passes.”

He nodded and they sat in silence, her occasionally flicking her hand to send away shards and pieces of the past and future masquerading as ghosts. A hairline fracture begins to form on the crystal she holds, but that didn’t bother her much. If it broke Vice would know what to do.

Well, that particular trick might work again, but it wasn’t as though she could leave Pattel. She knew what it was like to be alone here for too long, and she couldn’t leave anyone else to that fate.