#wildfire is great for the desolation
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#bible prophecy endtimes#end times#endtimes#jesus is coming#bibleprophecy#youtube#faith in jesus#follow jesus#time is running out#spread the word#pestilence#birth pangs#extreme weather#wildfires#climate change#great deception#do not be deceived#socialism#america desolation#government control#global restrictions#new world order#one world government#coming of the antichrist#end of days#time to repent#give glory to god#stand fast in the faith#seven year tribulation#hell on earth
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American manifestations of Smirke's 14 (+ the extinction)
the lonely: blizzards, social media, the "american dream"
the vast: the great plains, the great lakes, NASA
the flesh: fast food restaurants, tanning salons, cosmetic surgery
the slaughter: the NRA, police, military recruitment officers
the hunt: trophy hunters, true crime sleuths, TMZ, paparazzi
the spiral: fox news, healthcare professionals, washington dc
the eye: the fbi, silicon valley, the library of congress
the desolation: hurricanes, tornadoes, wildfires
the stranger: large cities, the Appalachian mountains, hollywood
the dark: alaska, organized crime syndicates
the corruption: opioids, ants, cockroaches, mega churches
the buried: mine shafts, the subway, credit card debt, student loans
the web: the CIA, the NSA
the end: prison industry
the extinction: nuclear power plants, the mississippi river, contaminated water reserves, golf courses, oil rigs
#edited on 10/26 with more examples#the magnus archives#tma#tma podcast#the dread powers#the lonely#the vast#the eye#the desolation#the stranger#the extinction#the hunt#the slaughter#the end#the web#the spiral#the buried#the flesh#the corruption
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ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ.
❝ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 ❞ 𝘻𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳.
❝ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 ❞ 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘶𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘳𝘺.
❝ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ❞ 𝘓𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛 𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴, 𝘥𝘶𝘣 𝘤𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢, 𝘥𝘳𝘺𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦.
❝𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦❞ 𝘪 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘢𝘭𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄
The world has turned into a nightmare.
A viral outbreak has engulfed an underground military base, spreading like wildfire.
Panic, chaos and isolation had become the new normal and as you sat alone in your dark house, your heart ached with worry for Simon, your lover.
You recalled that fateful day when he left for his mission, his strong arms around you, his lips softly brushing against yours as he whispered — «I'll be back soon, love»
Little did you know that it would be the last time you'd feel the warmth of his embrace.
Weeks had passed since that fateful goodbye and you couldn't help but replay that moment in your mind, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his embrace, Simon calling you when the virus first broke out, his soothing voice assuring you that everything would be fine.
You sobbed into the phone, overcome with fear, but his words and the words of his comrades convinced you that they would return home unharmed.
But as the days turned into weeks, the news grew grimmer, the base was locked down and your calls to Simon went unanswered.
You clung to hope, ignoring the growing sense of dread that settled in your chest, until one day, instead of Simon returning, a letter arrived at your doorstep, it was from the army, and you knew what it meant before even reading it.
Your trembling fingers traced the words, polite and formal at first, gradually morphing into condolences and the dreadful confirmation that he had died trying to protect his team inside the abandoned underground base.
You clutched his dog tags to your chest, the metal cutting into your skin as you fell to your knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
The pain was unbearable, the loss was too great, your life became a desolate, empty space, an emptiness where there once was love and warmth.
From that day on, your life felt empty.
Friends and comrades reached out, offering condolences and encouragement, but you couldn't bring yourself to move on, you locked yourself inside your house, spending endless hours in bed, the pain of loss weighing you down.
Unbeknownst to everyone, Simon was not truly gone.
The virus had found a home within his body, refusing to let him succumb to death entirely, he had become a creature teetering on the brink of life and death, a zombie with a tenuous connection to his former self, his consciousness was clouded, but he clung to one vivid memory — your warmth, your love.
It was instinct, an inexorable drive that drove him forward, he had to find you at any cost.
The virus left him with one goal, one destination imprinted in his mind — the path to you, to your home.
Outside, the world fell into chaos.
The streets were overrun with the infected, the remnants of humanity struggled to survive, but Simon came through it all, a ghost among the living dead.
He retained some of his old skills, an uncanny ability to navigate treacherous, unknown terrain.
The journey was risky, full of danger at every turn — he encountered groups of survivors, some hostile, some desperate, but he avoided them all, driven by the sole desire to get to you.
His body had scratches from countless encounters, but he continued to move forward, his mind focused on the beacon of your love.
Meanwhile, you remained locked in your house, oblivious to the outside world.
The days blurred into each other and you couldn’t shake the memories of Simon, the love you shared and the emptiness that replaced it.
On a moonless night, while you lay peacefully in your bed, he returned.
The room was dimly lit, the soft light of the moon coming through the curtains gave the entire surroundings a soft silvery hue, you had just calmed down from your recent tantrum, the remnants of your pain still hanging in the air as if a storm had just passed.
Unbeknownst to you, your front door had been forced open, but you remained blissfully unaware, lost in your daydreams.
His grip on the doorknob went unnoticed and his frustration made him growl quietly as he struggled with it, leaning down and feeling the space under the rug, his movements oddly instinctive.
The key hidden there was easily found, Simon did not remember how he knew where it was, he could not explain, as if some primitive knowledge led him here.
With the key in his hand, he quietly entered your house, so quietly that it might have seemed like a ghost slipping through the door.
He moved with predatory grace, his senses heightened by an invisible force, the living room was scanned with an attentive, methodical gaze, and the door closed behind him with a quiet click.
Simon's senses heightened as he inhaled the familiar fragrance of your presence, it was intoxicating, making his growls turn into low, guttural moans.
It was a sound born of instinct, a desire that drove him forward, towards you.
He followed an invisible path as if guided by an invisible force, his movements were smooth, he paid no heed to the dirt he left on the floor, his sole focus on reaching you, the door to what was once your shared bedroom was open, the gateway to his final destination.
You lie under the covers, in the cocoon of your safe bed, unaware of something else that has silently invaded your space.
With deliberate care, he approached your bedside, the mattress groaned beneath his weight as he knelt, his decayed hand sliding up your waist.
You whimpered in your sleep, murmuring his name, the scent of your arousal filled the room, driving his animalistic desires further.
His fingers tugged gently at your lips, a gentle gesture that belied the growing tension in the room, and you stirred, turning away from him, and the blanket slipped, exposing your body in pajama shorts and a silk tank top that had ridden up slightly, revealing your waist.
Simon couldn't resist the temptation, his growl deepening as he leaned over you, one knee on the bed, his cold, clammy hand roved your waist, eliciting another whimper from you.
His hand moved deliberately, fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin as his hips instinctively jerked forward, eliciting a low whine from you as you sleepily whispered his name — «Ngh, Simon…»
Your scent intensified, a heady, intoxicating aroma engulfing him, and a familiar note in your voice as you reached out your hand to touch his face, repeating his name once again — «Simon…»
But something was wrong.
You glanced at your palm, eyes widening in horror at the sight of dried blood, panic surged through you, and you were about to scream when Simon covered your mouth with his mangled hand, muffling your cries — «No, please!»
You sobbed into your hand, tears welling up in your eyes, you struggled to breathe, the metallic taste of iron and the sickening smell of rotten flesh assaulting your senses as you felt his clothed bulge rubbing against the thin fabric of your shorts right in the middle of your clothed cunt.
Panic overtook you as you said his name in desperation and realization, recognizing him as Simon, but this Simon was no longer yours.
His grip on your waist intensified, there was an animalistic demand in his touches, his cold fingers contrasting sharply with your warm skin as he reveled in the feeling of the heat, his growl became more and more insistent and heavy, more faster.
You whimpered, your pleas muffled by his hand as he continued his relentless exploration of your body and the steady movement of his hips — «Simon, please, stop!»
Your mind was in a whirlwind of emotions, fear and desire fighting inside you, you whined softly, your eyes widened in horror and confusion and he stopped for a moment, his hand now caressing your cheek, his growl softening as if he was trying to comfort you, to convey that he was still here.
And then, with a sudden, savage motion, he sank his teeth into your neck.
As his sharp teeth pierced your skin, you couldn't suppress the guttural scream that escaped your throat — it was a primal scream of agony, an instinctive reaction to the excruciating pain coursing through your body.
Blood gushed around the wound, an ominous crimson stream running down your neck in a slow, never ending cascade as the metallic taste filled your mouth, mixing with the acrid smell of the room.
You could feel the warmth of your life's essence flowing down your skin, a sensation both nauseating and frightening.
The strange throbbing pain continued at the side of the bite — it rushed through your body like a foreign feeling — as if every nerve ending was on fire, sending sharp electrical pulses of pain through your limbs.
Your muscles tensed and twitched involuntarily, a cruel reminder that you were powerless against this terrifying intrusion.
Your heart was pounding wildly, its relentless pounding adding to the agony as it pumped your life blood faster and faster.
The room seemed to spin, your vision blurred as darkness approached the edges of your vision, you felt dizzy, disorientated, as if your entire being was being drained.
And then your vision began to blur, and you felt that you were losing consciousness, and the world around you was disappearing.
In your final moments of awareness, you heard his hoarse voice, distorted and distant, but filled with possessiveness, uttering a chilling statement that sent a shiver down your spine
— «You're mine»
And then everything went dark.
taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @valsthea, @kennedyswhore dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist.
#[ ✒️july writing ]#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley fic#simon riley x you#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley fic#simon riley fanfic#cod fanfic#cod fic#zombie!ghost
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American Gothic: The Fear Entities from the Magnus Archives based on American Cultural Region
1. New England - The Spiral (what happened in Salem will happen again. human minds are so very malleable to suggestion.)
2. Appalachia - The Stranger (not deer. not father. this town is full of strangers I’ve always known.)
3. Midwest - The Vast (drive. drive. drive. nothing but the sky. drive on.)
4. Mid South - The End (judgement day is coming, the billboard says. make your peace with god.)
5. Deep South - The Eye (they are watching you. they know. they all know what you did.)
6. Swamp Lands - The Corruption (the flies and mosquitoes swarm. the muck sucks you under. the creatures here are wrong.)
7. Southwest - The Extinction (a mushroom cloud rises over the land. the world has changed forever.)
8. Great Plains - The Slaughter (we will never atone for the blood spilt on these lands.)
9. Rocky Mountains - The Flesh (american cannibals. manifest destiny will consume the people.)
10. Great Basin - The Web (these men spin their little lies and their followers bare their throats in submission.)
11. California - The Desolation (wildfires. everything will be destroyed.)
12. Pacific Northwest - The Lonely (who was I before this fog?)
13. North Woods - The Hunt (it follows. there is no reality outside of predator and prey in cold like this.)
14. Alaska - The Dark (the howling winds are the only thing you know anymore. you haven’t seen the sun in…)
15. Hawaii - The Buried (trapped in an instant under molten earth.)
*+*American Gothic*+*
#the magnus archives#tma podcast#tma fears#the fear entities#america#american gothic#american culture#americana
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The Things That Were Fear
The DPS guys as fears from TMA. Based on my interpretation of both of them, and the fact I haven't listened to the podcast in a hot second.
Neil Perry: The Web. His life is not his own, he's a puppet of his father, the rules, the system. He's afraid of never escaping the control of other people, of never fully cutting himself out of the web of "must", and "need", and never "want".
Todd Anderson: The Desolation. He's scared of destruction of his loved ones, of himself, his dreams, the world. He's scared of burning out before he had a chance to shine, for his light to spill over into a wildfire that's not creating, but killing everyone and everything around it. He needs his potential realized, but not only his, but also the potential of the people he loves. Please, their time hasn't come yet.
Charlie Dalton: The Eye. The way he presents himself kind of gives it away for me, he is doing this for show, look at me perform myself. He does this as to been seen a certain way, but someone finding out that there's more to it scares him. He has this hunger for creation and knowledge, but is afraid of being found out.
Steven Meeks: The Buried. The academic overachiever fear. He's buried in school work, buried under responsibility he burdend himself with. Thin cracks running through the porcelain figure, he might break. He needs to try everything at least once, be great at it, too. He puts pressure on him that makes it hard to breath, but at the same time he can't breath any other way.
Gerard Pitts: The Vast. Sometimes a man is the heart of the group, down to earth type, and he is also so afraid of height. Of vast expenses of nothing at all. To quote from the wiki "the human fear of insignificance and meaninglessness, of losing oneself in too much space". He's not as excited, not as smart, not as lively as the others, he might not get left behind, but he could never reach them up there. And would he want to, anyway?
Richard Cameron: The Hunt. Something is out to get him. He betrayed them, did he not? He's the traitor, the snitch, the weak one. He's scared to not find shelter and safety fast enough, that his friends might not let him in and protect him, too. He's being chased, but he can't see what he's running from. He just knows he must run.
Knox Overstreet: The Lonely. He's in love with the idea of romance, of a grand spectacle of love, like the movies, the classics, the fairy tales. He's so, so afraid of being alone. Not left behind, just suddenly realizing there had never been one at all, that all the people around him are lonely shadows born of his wish to be loved back.
Chris Noel: The Corruption. Now, this might be a stretch, but she's being corrupted. She had her picture perfect life and this poet came and messed it up. There's a sickness spreading through her, and it feels awfully close to love. Does she really love or is she rotting from the inside out because neither the person she loved nor the person she loves seem to see her as a whole being?
John Keating: The End. What else could he be afraid of, but an end of humanity? An end to poems, to laughter, to real love? He's not afraid of death, but afraid of the end of things.
#dead poets society#character analysis#tma#neil perry#todd anderson#steven meeks#gerard pitts#charlie dalton#richard cameron#knox overstreet#chris noel
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ONE PIECE FANFICTION...
Summary:
King witnesses the fall of his captain and darkness envelops his mind… Why fight to survive if there is nothing left to fight for?
• GENRE: DRAMA
Characters:
- King (The Wildfire)
- Queen (The Plague)
Together
The dark clouds... The pale moon... The smell of blood in his nostrils... The painful, labored breaths and a suffocating silence plunged him into the darkest solitude... The scarlet eyes, sparkling with tears, watched the celestial dragon fall... like a shooting star, but this time no wish would be made.
King: K-Kaido-san! (He tried to get up, he was in a panic... Kaido needed him now... King had to save him! Like his captain had done long ago! HE COULDN'T LET THAT LAUGHING BOY TAKE HIS EMPEROR AWAY!!! But...) GAAAH!!! (FUCK!!! His wounds were too severe! He couldn't move... NO! But he didn't want to give up! He looked imploringly at the leaden sky, flapping his black wings vigorously... He screamed with all his strength as if he were begging for a miracle! He needed it! NOW!!!) I'M COMING!!! I'LL SAVE YOU, KAIDO-SAN!!! I'LL TAKE YOU TO ONE PIECE!!! I PROMISED!!! (Enduring the pain, he managed to fly for a few meters, but with a missing wing he couldn't expect to cross the skies) No! (He fell to the ground, rolling in the dirty dust of that barren and polluted land) Ngh! Gah!!! (He gritted his teeth and his breathing began to gasp... He soon realized that it was over... Everything turned to dust in an instant as he felt the earth shake... His captain was sinking down, into the hell of that land he had ruled together for years and he could do nothing to avoid that terrible fate.
Tears streaked the dark face of the angel as he felt it all... The footsteps of death vibrated in the air... And an explosion, from the depths of the sea, screamed along with him) GAAAAH!!!
Kaido was gone, his heart had stopped beating while his angel was bent over mourning his passing.
King: GH-NH-GAH!!! Kaido! My Father!!! I'm sorry! Forgive me!!! I failed-!!! I failed to keep the promise I made to you!!! I'm sorry!!! I wasn't the king I was supposed to be!!! What will I do now?! Who am I without you?! I'm left alone in this world! Kaido-sama!
The wind blew carrying her tears and as the full moon appeared illuminating the world below in white.
Another man showed himself in that desolation... His gaze watched the bare horizon... he had to find that dark angel, he only hoped that at least he was still alive
Queen: King, where are you? (He looked around and a shiver made him tremble as he felt the pungent air.
Now that Kaido was gone, it would be difficult to live peacefully... He had to rely only on his own strength to defend himself... No! He would never have made it alone! In the "New World" there were too many pirates stronger and more dangerous than him... He needed his allies, his brothers, one in particular) KING!!! (He called that name... Shit! Why wasn't he answering?) GH! Damn-! Af-af-af! (He stopped to take a breath... damn! That damn Vinsmoke had managed to damage him more than he could imagine) King! (He continued to beg his colleague for an answer, but in that silence, the sound of the wind was the only sound he could hear) GH! Please, don't leave me alone- (And before he could even finish his comment, a tear carried by the wind touched his cheek while soft sighs caressed his eardrums) Huh? (He turned towards that pained moan... and there, on the ground, was lying a man with large black wings, white silver hair and a cinnamon-colored complexion... Yes, those black leather clothes were the confirmation he was looking for, that man whose face he had never seen, it was King, his dear brother) King! Is that you?
King: GH! Q-Queen- (He covered his face with his hand to hide himself... He should never have been seen in that state... He felt destroyed, devastated and this time all he could do was whimper like a baby! His pain was too great to contain what he was feeling) Please... Leave me alone... I am not worthy of my name, of my title... What the hell kind of king am I?! TELL ME?! GH!
Queen: King... What are you saying? (God! He never thought he'd find his brother so broken... But he had to be strong! They had to move on! Together!)
King: Please-! Go away and let me die in peace!!! (He tried to get up, but felt faint as soon as he forced his muscles) GAH!!! Ngh!!! (He fell again while panting in despair... Those damned wounds were excruciating... that green-haired swordsman had brought him to the brink, he was almost there to fall into the afterlife) AFF-AFF-AGH!!
Queen: I'm not going anywhere... I'm your brother (No! He couldn't let go of even the little he had left... If King couldn't be strong at that moment, maybe he should have taken matters into his own hands and pulled the wagon as far as possible... He was ready to take on this responsibility if it would have allowed the few remaining companions to be saved)... I'll do everything I can to save you (He approached the fallen angel and when he knelt down in front of him, he could see that beautiful face... He remained paralyzed for a second staring at him, he never imagined he would see behind that mask one day and above all he never imagined that King was so handsome, but there was no time for this nonsense... it was better to save his stupid jokes for later)
King: GH! (His tear-filled eyes were paralyzed staring at those glasses... King could see through those dark lenses... But Queen didn't look like his usual idiot, he wasn't clowning around like he used to... He was showing his strength right now and it was admirable... Queen was showing a man he never expected to see... A man much more powerful than he himself was) Y-you-!
Queen: Come on! You have to try to get up, I'll help you... Now that Kaido is dead we have to be strong... for him, King- (She tried to help the angel get up... she took him by the arm and managed to lift him up to sit him down, but before she could move away King's arms clung to her body)

The mane of pure white hair rested against his chest... Oh! What was he doing?! Why was King hugging him like that?!
Queen: HHH!?! K-King?
King: GH!!! Queen- Ngh! (She hugged him tighter, resting her face in the hollow of his neck, wetting his pale skin with tears... she couldn't stop sobbing... why this sudden weakness? Why did she need Queen's comfort?) Help me
Queen: (Her face frowned, now she could feel how much her brother was hurting, she felt so sorry for him... She held him tight and stood there, motionless... King needed support... Kaido had raised King like a son after all... He was still a boy when his captain had saved him... Losing a father was always hard) It's okay (She combed King's silver hair, listening to that desperate cry... It hurt so much to hear him cry like that... Her brother had always been a hateful grump, but now, if Queen had had the chance to take all that pain for him, she would have taken it)
King: W-why? (He opened his eyes looking at his older brother's chubby face... He was so serious, firm and impassive) How can you be so strong? Why isn't there even a tear on your face?
Queen: I'm hurting too, King (She wiped the tears from his dark cheek with her thumb), but I can't cry now, I have to look after you, our crew... if I want to save you I can't be weak, not now.
King: (He managed to stifle his tears to be able to speak, he wanted to explain, even if in reality there was no need) Kaido was a father to me, Queen... He was always there... He defended me, protected me... And I felt him die, I felt his pain... His dream suddenly crumble... I could do nothing but watch helplessly as he fell... I was left alone and now I can't be as strong as you! I'm sorry-!
Queen: Crying is not a sign of weakness, King... Being strong means moving forward despite everything and I'm here to help you... You know you can always count on me... You're not alone as long as I'm by your side... Don't be afraid... I know it hurts, but we'll get through this... I'm your family like Kaido was... But I can't face this alone... Don't give up! (At that moment, his hands rested on the angel's cheeks... He forced him to look at his face and pleadingly, with a tone more determined than ever, he said those words:) Please, tell me that I can still count on you
King: Yes (He grabbed the clear wrist and this time his tone rose to epochal... having his brother near him had given him hope again, now he knew what he had to do: he was the vice captain... he had to take the responsibility of having a crew to follow... he would protect his new vice captain at the cost of his life)... Yes, of course you can... I will fight alongside you until death takes me, I swear, Queen... You are the only one I have left and I will not allow anyone to hurt you.
Queen: Oh King (She hugged him tighter) I promise you we'll get through this, we'll watch each other's backs and we'll be happy again
King: GH! (He held him tight, enduring the pain of the cuts caused by Zoro's blades, but then he pulled away to immerse his red eyes in those of his brother) Y-yes, you will have to help me make decisions... (He never believed that one day he would have to take Kaido's place, but it was necessary... His captain would have wanted this from him... He knew that giving up would not be honorable, and moreover he could not throw in the towel, Queen still needed his strength to survive)... I am not a good captain, but I can do it! For the moment I ask you to take this role, I am not in the best condition
Queen: Yes, I'll take care of everything for now... as soon as you can get up again I'll roll up my sleeves to be your deputy.
King: Alright, thank you-NGH! (He squeezed his eyes shut as he pressed his hand to the wound on his chest, the blood was still coming out in gallons and it wasn't good)
Queen: (She stared at his blood-soaked chest... Damn! King wasn't feeling well at all, he had to hurry up and do something useful if he didn't want to lose him too) King, I have to get you out of here, those nasty wounds need to be treated... That Roronoa guy did a pretty bad job on you.
King: Gh-! You don't seem to have had any better treatment from "Black Leg" either. (He stroked a purple bruise on his colleague's soft cheek, he had never seen Queen with so many bruises)... Do they hurt that much-? (He didn't manage to finish the question as the blond's agitated voice drowned out his own.)
Queen: Don't worry... I'm better off than you.
King: Yes, that is undeniable NGH!!! (Another pang of pain hit his body... God! His energy was slowly draining away)
Queen: H! Don't push yourself (Fuck! No, there was no time)... Maybe I should go see a doctor- (But this time it was King who interrupted him)
King: Bandages are enough, Queen... There are few of us left alive... You are enough for me, even as a doctor.
Queen: GH! (No! King couldn't tell him that! He wasn't a doctor! He didn't know where to put his hands! He only knew that if King died because of him he would never forgive himself... he couldn't risk that much) I'm not a doctor, I'm a scientist-!
King: There's no time... Please (He closed his eyes and collapsed to the ground, he couldn't speak, he didn't know how much longer he could stay awake)
Queen: Ngh! (He gritted his teeth as he watched King in that pitiful state... his heart began to pound with terror... NO! He wasn't ready to suffer the death of a brother too!
It was difficult, but in the end he decided... He had to risk everything and try to be a doctor even if he wasn't capable of doing that job) All right... Wait for me here... I'll get all the medicine I can find and come back, but don't you die
King: I won't die... Now go (Their eyes sink into each other's before they part... But that wasn't goodbye)
The scientist started running as fast as he could... He had to find a first aid kit, but where could he look?!
Queen: (She reached Onigashima, everything was destroyed and the dead were piled up one on top of the other) Shit! SHIT! (She ran among the corpses of her comrades, but they were all soldiers, there was no sign of a doctor) The only place where there might be a medical kit left is my laboratory, but I don't know if it's intact... But I have to check! I can't just sit there and brood! King could die at any moment and I can't afford that!
He ran through the rubble and when he reached his destination he began searching through the destroyed drawers.
Queen: Come on! It must be there! Where the hell did it go?! (And when he moved the crates of test tubes, the red metal box appeared before his eyes) HERE IT IS! I took it! Here I come King! Hold on!!!
He wasted no time and went back the same way... he had never been so fast before, but an important man needed him right now and he had to overcome any limit to save that angel.
After less than 20 minutes of lightning-fast running, Queen saw the bloody plumage and the dark face more pale than ever... King was alive?! Dead?! OH GOD!!!
Queen: King! (She catapulted herself onto the prone body and shook his shoulders to wake him up) Talk to me! I'm here! Here I am! I found this! (She showed the medical kit to her brother, but her red eyes were closed... Oh no!) I'll save you! Please! Answer me! (Her screams were desperate... No! Not King! It hurt too much!!! But a gloved hand at that moment rose up and rested on the palm that was too heavy) HHH!!!
King: I'm alive, don't worry... GH!!! (SHIT! Queen was crushing him! She didn't have the slightest bit of finesse!)
Queen: Oh thank goodness!!! (She wiped the bright tears from her cheeks and then...) Oops! Sorry (getting up to give the angel below a breather... She had squashed him a little too much)
King: NGH! Take it easy... GAH!!! (He narrowed his eyes as Queen removed the cloth from the deepest wound) S-shit! (God! It hurt! But he knew it wasn't Queen's fault, his brother was taking it easy now... it was those cuts that were incredibly painful... That damned sword had been a burden for Kaido too) That sword... I've seen it before... That man had it... Oden... It was the same blade that gave Kaido the scar- GHH-!!! NGH!!! (He stiffened as he felt the needle slowly sew the furrow in his tormented skin... Oh! Damn!!! It was torture) AGH!!! F-F!!! (But he endured... Stitch after stitch)
Queen: It's going to be okay (He was focused... He couldn't make any mistakes now... God! He wasn't a good surgeon... His hands were too stubby for the job... But he didn't even notice that it was almost done, now... There were only a few stitches left and the stitches had been done perfectly... His precision had paid off... Queen wiped her sweat as she tied the last knot) Well, Kaido survived that day, I don't see why you shouldn't.
King: I don't know if I'll be that strong.
Queen: You already are (Her voice was confident, firm and King remained still, without any words)... Come on, raise your back (The scientist put a hand behind the angel's back to make him sit down)... Good, all that's missing is a good bandage and you can rest.
King: NGH!!! (He felt the bandages gradually wrap around his wounds... they hurt, but the parts now covered were already less painful) Thank you
Queen: The bleeding should stop... (She finally stared at her brother's black wing that was cut in half... Damn! It was such a shame... The Lunaria's wings were beautiful and Zoro had ruined that beauty) but there's not much that can be done about the wing, I'm sorry.
King: (No, now the only thing that mattered was having someone trustworthy by his side, a lost wing was the last thing he cared about getting back) One less limb won't change my life (He reached out at that moment and his slender fingers crossed in his pale ones... Queen's hand was stubby, but soft and cute)... well, now you're not the only one who's crippled
Queen: Yeah (She blushed as she stared at that beautiful tired smile... Well, King's opponent hadn't managed to ruin everything... Her brother's face was more beautiful than ever... She felt a little envious... Was there something bad about Lunaria? Or were they perfect in every way?) Well, if you get better I might even give you a prosthesis... it's your birthday soon- (Her words were cut off as she felt King's head rest on her shoulder... Her cheeks became vivid... King had become so affectionate, kind... It was almost unnatural, but maybe she just had to get used to it)
King: Queen... You saved my life and gave me hope... I'm sorry for all those times I insulted you over the years... I don't deserve to have an amazing brother like you... I'll be in your debt, for the rest of my life.
Queen: We will rewrite our history... together (She wrapped an arm around the Lunarian's shoulders to have him close on that cold night... They both looked up in unison and the full moon reflected in their eyes... Maybe a new dawn would come for them too)
Thanks for reading
#fanfiction#beast pirates#king the wildfire#one piece#one piece fanart#one piece fanfiction#queen the plague#kaido#roronoa zoro#black leg sanji#pirates#lunarian#affection#scien one piece#arbel one piece#brothers
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Essendir Travelers Faith, The
Among the myriad faiths that dot the spiritual landscape of Arkera, none spreads with such peculiar vigor as the Essendir Traveler Faith. In but four centuries, this doctrine has woven itself into the fabric of every continent, every nation, and nearly every city of note. Its vitality stems not from conquest or coercion, but from an almost infectious conviction that has transformed a pitfighter's redemption into humanity's most ambitious exodus.
Origins in Blood and Guilt
The faith's genesis lies in the transformed soul of Naharin Essendir, a man whose hands dripped with the blood of countless victims. As a slaver, pitfighter, and mercenary in the Nykan city of Litris, Essendir carved a legacy of cruelty that should have damned him beyond redemption. Yet it was precisely the depth of his depravity that marked him for transformation.
In his twilight years, as cancer gnawed at his flesh, Essendir experienced what his followers now call the Great Awakening. The weight of his sins crashed upon him with such force that even death seemed too merciful an escape. What followed defies natural law – each dawn found him younger, his body retreating through time until he stood again in the flesh of his sixteenth year, the very age his bloody path began.
The Ar'el and Divine Revelation
In the desolate wilds of Nyka, where Essendir fled in his madness, sixteen beings of impossible geometry descended from the stars. The Ar'el, as they named themselves, spoke with one voice yet maintained sixteen distinct forms that mortal eyes struggled to comprehend. They chose Essendir precisely because his soul had been the darkest on Arkera – if such a vessel of cruelty could feel remorse, they reasoned, then hope remained for all of humankind.
The cryptic First Testament of the Essendir Travelers records the Ar'el's revelations, though many passages remain incomprehensible to all but the most devoted scholars. The text speaks of Arkera's slow death, a cosmic decay triggered by forces that predate time itself. The only salvation, according to these star-beings, lies not in spiritual transcendence but in literal escape – a physical exodus of humanity from their dying world.
The Nuz'dalath and the Cosmic Horror
Perhaps most disturbing are the teachings regarding the Nuz'dalath, entities that dwell in what the faith calls the outer darkness. These alien gods exist beyond the periphery of comprehensible reality, slowly consuming the cosmos with their chaos and madness. The Essendir doctrine teaches that only by spreading human consciousness across the stars can this creeping darkness be held at bay.
The Nuz'dalath work through means both subtle and overt, their influence manifesting in everything from gentle corruption to outright madness. Followers of the faith learn to see their signs everywhere – in the irregular patterns of storm clouds, in the whispers of wind through empty streets, in the shadows that move when no object casts them.
The Great Work
Through magickal knowledge imparted by the Ar'el, the faith's highest adherents communicate across vast distances through dreams and visions, maintaining a unity of purpose that transcends geographical boundaries. Their preparations for the prophesied exodus take many forms:
- Engineers and artisans study remnants of Old World technology, seeking means to construct the silver ships of Essendir's vision
- Scholars compile star-charts and study astronomical phenomena, searching for signs of safe passage through the cosmic void
- Missionaries spread the faith while gathering resources and knowledge from every corner of Arkera
- Mystics commune with the Ar'el, seeking guidance and warning of the Nuz'dalath's movements
Current State
"The faith spreads like wildfire because it offers what no other religion dares – not salvation of the soul, but salvation of our entire species." - Unknown Essendir Elder
The Essendir Travelers have achieved something remarkable – a truly global faith that transcends the petty divisions of race, nation, and culture. Their communities display an industrial zeal and unity of purpose that borders on the supernatural. They honor their dead with the conviction that the deceased continue to guide them from the stars above, their spirits lighting the way through the cosmic darkness that awaits.
Their ultimate goal may seem delusional to outsiders, yet their unwavering dedication has produced tangible results. They have established networks of knowledge and resources that span continents, developed new technologies through their study of Old World remnants, and created systems of cooperation that transcend traditional political boundaries.
Whether their prophesied exodus will ever come to pass remains to be seen, but their influence on the current age is undeniable. In their zealous preparations for humanity's departure, they have ironically become one of the strongest forces binding it together.
"In our flight from death, we have found purpose in life." - Attributed to Naharin Essendir
#conworld#worldbuilding#low fantasy#world building#arkera#creative writing#dark fantasy#fantasy world#high fantasy
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A bittersweet meeting
A one piece au gabenath drabble
I love you enemies to lovers to enemies gabenath!
no warnings except for a few swears and a lot of fighting and maybe some weird tension with a bit of gore in some descriptions
——
He hasn’t been here in a long time. By long time he means, about four years ago.
Frostberg Island had been home to many memories for Gabriel, good and bad.
Even sweet and sour ones.
He had his fair share here, all because of her.
Well, all because of them and the stupid decisions they made back when they were younger.
He’s Grand Admiral of the Marines now! Can’t let a stupid pirate get in his way, no because then he’d loose all the glory, all the power.
Gabriel couldn’t loose the power he had! He’d be nothing without it.
God how he hates this island, and the feelings that come with it. But no, he had to persevere Gabriel had an example to set for the recruits, and he was not about to let them down either!
Most of them were covered by various furs or draped in thick fabric to keep out the cold.
Another thing he hated about this island, no real heat just frost and ice everywhere you look.
It was a stark reminder of the woman he loved. God it was perfect for her, she did love winter.
Loved how you could see your breath when it was cold enough, loved how she could skate on the small lake once it had frozen over.
Fuck.
This was going to be harder then Gabriel expected. He was sure his team could tell he was distracted too.
Not a good thing.
Hopefully they didn’t bump into any pirates on the way, that’s not what they were here for.
Not what he himself needed.
———
There’s a mansion on a hill, north of the small town that resides near the docks of Frostberg.
It’s like something you’d see in those old fairytale books she used to read. Menacing but beautiful, it’s architecture a reminder of what was.
That was where the great Captain Heartless resided, where she had lived for a long time now.
The sea no longer called to the captain, her cold heart was set on something even more exciting.
Revenge, sweet revenge.
She would not rest until the fucking admiral’s head was on a stick. It was the least he could do, after all the pain he put her through those years ago.
Yes, the great Nathalie Sancoeur, Heartless, Demon Queen would stop at nothing until he was dead, laying there with his heart sat still by his side.
Nathalie would not rest until Grand Admiral Agreste was dead and buried.
Luckily for her, it seems the time had come.
News had spread like wildfire that the man himself had come to visit Frostberg himself, how wonderful!
She was going to enjoy ripping him to shreds.
“Vincent, I think it’s time we go pay the Grand Admiral a visit”
The man next to her nods, a smirk appears on his face when he realises the thing they’ve been waiting oh so patiently for us about to fall right into their laps.
“Of course my dear, I shall prepare the crew for action.”
Oh how glorious this was going to be!
How satisfied she was going to feel after his head was ripped off those shoulders.
——
He can feel something is going to go wrong. Gabriel doesn’t know why but sometimes he gets a feeling that eyes are watching him as he walks through the town centre.
Which isn’t as busy as it should be in the early afternoon and that strikes him as odd.
Very odd.
Most of the recruits had been wary as they walked past the empty stalls and shops. They had the luxury of innocence still.
Gabriel's commanders knew something was wrong instantly, on guard as soon as they saw how desolate the place was. None of them wanted to die today, and none of them would.
He'd make sure of that.
"She's going to throttle you, you know?!"
Now that's a voice he recognises, Penny Rolling former member of the Rockroll Pirates.
"So she is here then, they were right."
The woman scoffs, Penny pushes through the large crowd of marines to stand by him.
"I'm being serious Gabriel, she's going to kill you! Turn back now."
It's his turn to scoff now, he doesn't need to run if Nathalie is here like Penny said all he needs to do is bring her in and there is no problem.
"As much as I appreciate the help Penny, this wont take long. You can all go back to living peacefully without her tyranny."
Penny rolls her eyes, sighing. It looks like she's given up on trying to convince him. But the annoyance morphs into shock and it gets Gabriel's heart thumping.
"Don't say I didn't warn you Agreste."
She scuttles of as fast as she came, leaving him and the rest of the Marines in some sort of rugged state. Most are anxious, listening to Penny's words must have put them on edge.
"She's right you know. I am going to kill you."
Oh shit.
It's followed by a laugh, a manic one. Oh god, oh fuck what was going to happen now?!
Gabriel lifts his head upwards towards on of the rooftops, and there she stood in all her cold hearted glory.
Nathalie "Demon Queen" Sancoeur, Captain of the Driftwood Devil's who have made Frostberg Island their home.
"It's fucking hilarious how you just walked right on in, didn't stop and think about a murderous pirate did you?!"
He gulps, this exactly what he wanted to avoid. Especially since he was on her home turf.
“Nathalie, I need you to come with me now! Don’t make this harder then it has to be!”
The pirate laughs, over and over the same manic laugh she used when someone had hurt her.
The same laugh when she was down on her knees and bleeding, ribs stuck out of the cage of skin that protected them.
Tears falling but she was still fighting for her life, like it was going to be her last day on earth.
He himself had hurt her and now he was going to pay the price.
“NOW YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO ORDER ME AROUND! FUCKING PRICK AREN’T YOU?!”
She jumps forward, flipping and then makes a smooth landing on the cobbled pathway.
There’s an almost animalistic grin on her face, then there’s the knife clasped in her hand.
She was going to kill him.
“Who gave you the right to call me by my first name huh? You dug your grave Agreste, NOW LIE IN IT!”
Nathalie lunges forward, and it’s then he realises he and the rest are outnumbered.
She’s brought her whole crew to overpower him. They charge along side her, proud to fight for their captain.
God she really did think ten steps ahead of everyone.
She was right as always, he’d dug his grave leaving her like that, leaving her alone hurting. But no Gabriel was not going to give up his life just yet.
“No, I’LL KEEP FIGHTING! YOU WONT KILL ME I KNOW YOU WONT!”
Another growl, she dodges his punch, kicking her leg out towards his knees.
Nathalie, she was going to kill him. The woman he used to love, the woman he still somewhat loved even if he did hurt her before.
She was about to stab him in the back.
“Then you really don’t know me anymore, do you? I’ll rip that head of your fucking shoulders if it’s the last thing I’d do.”
———-
It’s done, I hate it but I hope you like it!
#bee writes#gabenath#gabenath au#miraculous au#gabriel agreste#nathalie sancoeur#italian photographer vincent#penny rolling
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Hunger of the pine || Alex & Nicole
TIMING: MID APRIL, 2023 LOCATION: The Pines PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett & @nicsalazar SUMMARY: Alex joins the wildland firefighters for some training. Nicole's there to help. A treepy is there as well. CONTENT WARNING: None.
If she could describe it in one word, Nicole would call the beginning of fire season ‘gentle’. Getting equipment ready, setting up meetings with dispatch and weather experts. Shaking off the rust. Gentle, in comparison to the desolation once the fire scorched acres and acres of land like it did every year. But she liked this, easing herself into her boots again. This was comfortable. Fun, even.
Despite seasons of interagency collaboration, it was the first time Nicole had ever been asked to join for an all-fire day. No, not join. Teach. Collaborate with training park rangers. She was definitely meant to be in charge here. And whatever nerves threatened to overcome her were snuffed out by the adrenaline of reaching this level of trust from her leaders.
A prescribed burn was the perfect teaching situation, Nicole mused as she navigated around the extra amount of tents and different crews displayed for the occasion. She made her way to the tallest tent, where the trainees stood safely in the shadow. A mix of junior rangers, volunteers, interns, older rangers who might have failed their training. She was only meant to take one. A shadowing situation rather than a full class, which had been imparted earlier in the morning. She preferred the hands-on approach anyway.
Nicole glanced at the prospects, a tight smile on her face, until her eyes connected with a girl. Impossibly young, probably freshly out of high school. “With me” she signaled for her to follow and took off. “Nicole” she extended her hand, but made no attempt to stop walking. She gave the girl a side glance, trying —and failing— to read her nametag. “First time, right? I can give you a little tour before we get to work”.
With it being her second semester interning with the park rangers, Alex was required to take more cross-trainings and certifications as they tested her with more responsibilities. All the senior rangers and leadership knew she was them for the long haul and her work ethic spoke for itself. If she wasn’t built to be a proper ranger like her parents had always expected, she could at least be the best damn park ranger possible. It wasn’t the grand purpose they had planned for her, but it helped people and some “natural order” all the same.
Fire training was a natural next step anyhow, especially with the rain slowing down and the risk of wildfires on the horizon. Alex had spent most of the previous evening reading over some of the information pamphlets her director had provided the night before. It all made sense, though fire seemed just as unpredictable an enemy as a shifter. This didn’t rely on her strength though, this relied upon her senses and smarts, which she had both in spades. Still, there was an uneasy feeling in her stomach as they gathered around with the different firefighters. She wanted to impress, she wanted to prove she was worth something even if her genes somehow failed her.
Alex nodded dutifully when one of the firefighters told her to follow along. There was some small sense of relief that it was a woman who seemed cool and collected, which was such a stark contrast to the state of worry that always lingered for her. She only barely managed to get a handshake in as they walked to their station. “Alex,” she offered up, “And yeah, first time. Only my second semester interning here.” She looked closely over the setup, trying to pick out small things she remembered from her reading. “I did go over the pamphlets they gave us, but a rundown would be great. Wanna make sure I have it all right.”
“You’ll be great then, pamphlets got it all” Nicole offered a reassuring pat on the shoulder. She took a steady breath, gathering her thoughts while they walked together. She didn’t want to overwhelm the kid with unnecessary information. Most park rangers finished their certification and never required anything else (unless some major fuck-up occurred). “Okay, let me just…” She figured she could start by telling her who’s who around the field. That way they would be easily recognizable later that day, when the burn was in full swing. She lifted her arm, pointing to the distant right. “See over there with all the trucks and vehicles? Engine crew” she explained, her head quickly nodding forward. “Now we’re walking towards handcrew station— that one’s mine. And fuel is the one right behind our tent”. Was that a good start? She hoped so. She loved her job, truly. Part of her itched to share more than the basics, but she clenched her jaw in a great display of restraint.
“We won’t see Helitack yet. Probably come out later, if there are any issues. They like to show off” Nicole shrugged, a half-grin tugging at her lips. “No hotshots or smokejumpers either. Don’t need them for this one” She glanced at the girl, unable to stop her commentary this time. “Which kinda sucks…cause, well— they’re fun to watch” They were what everyone pictured when she mentioned being a wildland firefighter. “Everyone else you see walking around? Probably on the technical side. The smart ones, you know? Administration, planning, communication, management… all that stuff” It was her least favorite part to explain (the hierarchy still not completely clear in her head), and it didn’t feel necessary for the day, so she didn’t linger on it for too long.
As they walked inside the station, Nicole headed straight towards the tools. Axes, shovels, rakes, flappers, and more were laid on the table and hung on the walls. “We’re gonna go outside and join the crew digging the fireline, alright?” She let the girl admire the arsenal on display, while she picked up some safety gear for both of them. When she returned to Alex’s side, Nicole carried gloves, glasses, a hard hat and a shroud (just in case). “Can’t let you pick the chainsaw, obviously,” there was a glint of mirth in her eyes as she feigned disappointment. “But maybe if you come around a second time. Everything else’s fair game. The pulaski is a good start” she recommended, pointing with her lips to the end of the table.
Nicole finished donning her gear and grabbing her usual equipment while she waited for Alex to be ready. “You’re… really young” not a particularly astute observation, obviously. But curiosity bloomed inside her. Alex had mentioned something about semesters, but she was still a little confused. “How does a kid end up becoming a park ranger? Started with the Junior program?”
The neutral but attentive expression remained on her face despite the fact the vote of confidence made Alex feel like soaring. She clung onto any scrap of external validation like the stray she probably was, a thought process she always diverted the moment it arose, putting that inkling of self-doubt back in the locked box it belonged in.
Durands n'hésitez pas.
No, hanging on desperately to any bit of approval she could get wouldn’t do. Alex would wear the calm confidence she’d trained into her features from before she even knew she was consciously doing it. She listened carefully to every instruction and bit of guidance that Nicole had to offer. She mentally noted every station and the locations of equipment that were mentioned, relating them back to the extensive pamphlet she had studied page to page. “Engine crew,” she nodded, “Handcrew and then fuel over there.”
Alex gestured her gaze towards each station as she spoke, visibly showing that she had listened and taken note of that information. At the mention of helitak, she perked up with wide eyes. She’d never seen one in action before, but it seemed like it would look cool. There was also a good chance a combination of things was going to leave her sense of smell overwhelmed, even with protective equipment the supernatural sense of smell was hard to suppress. “Helitak,” she asked eagerly, “I mean, can’t blame them. It sounds like it’d look pretty cool.”
She harbored a glance at the others working around. Alex tried to gauge who was who, but there wasn’t much to go on. Various administrative roles that she couldn’t really see herself filling anyhow. Part of her always seemed to long for the quiet allure of the forest, a place where she could relax into her senses.
The question caught Alex off guard. It was a valid question, she was the youngest person here by a considerable amount of years, but it still made her feel self-conscious. “Oh, I’m an intern,” she answered quickly, “I did do the junior program in high school though.” Was it enough? She couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that Nicole had gotten stuck with the kid of the group. The firefighter probably wasn’t expecting someone of her age or stature to be part of the training. She could be a good student though. “How long have you worked for the department,” she asked, trying to soothe over her own nerves that threatened to spill into her movements if she didn’t reroute that train of thought.
“Ah. Got it. That’s cool” Nicole nodded, handing her the extra pair of gloves. “Knowing what you wanna do so young, I mean” she smiled, encouraging her to put her protective gear on. At 15, she had no clue what her future looked like regarding professional careers. Though, if she had known she would skip several of those formative years, she wouldn’t have spent so much time worrying about it. “Can probably learn a lot from you” she breathed out a laugh at the mention of the junior program.
Noticing the young girl had yet to pick any equipment, Nicole reached out for two pulaski axes, offering one at her. Even with the junior program and two semesters in her body, this whole thing had to be overwhelming for her. Nicole would’ve hated it if Alex went back to the ranger station and complained about how much the fire training sucked. She shook her head, shrugging off her own nerves sprouting self-doubt. She wasn’t good at a lot of things, but she had this. “Come on, Alex. There’s a lot to do out there” she gestured outside, resuming her walk.
“Anchor point” Nicole pointed at the small pond. It was the first thing that came out of her mouth once they were on the field. Alex must’ve read about it as well, but she couldn’t leave it out. It was the time to get that practical experience. “Got a lot of ground to cover. Why don’t we head out the opposite way? since everyone’s gathered around the pond” she suggested, though her feet were already marching on. Somewhere quieter might also ease the young girl’s nerves, she figured.
It was only once they were away from most external stimuli, that Nicole picked up the conversation they had dropped. “I’ve been a firefighter for two and… a half years? I think. Already. Uh…Maybe closer to three?” she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Math wasn’t her strongest suit. She switched to the blade side of the tool, and began hacking away at roots and shrubs. “Started at the park actually,” she stopped, signaling for Alex to mimic her. “Did some seasonal stuff…but uh,” well, she wasn’t going to scare the girl with all the terrible things that happened on the trails, was she? She had likely seen a fair amount already. “Ended up— um, decided to switch” she grimaced internally at the anticlimactic end of her sentence. She felt the need to overcompensate. “Park’s fun though, are you thinking interpretative or law enforcement?”
There was a small smile on her face as Alex nodded along. She wasn’t sure what was good about knowing what she wanted to do at a young age. Really, the fact she had a choice at all seemed like enough of a gift as it was. Before, there hadn’t been much of a question of what she would do, despite the fact she could barely make it through training without upsetting her father due to her lack of skill. Something in the thought made her heart race slightly as she remembered the training room, being locked down there until she got it right— how her father wouldn’t even look at her until she hit her target. She swallowed back the lump in her throat. Choice was good. She had to remind herself of as much even though somehow having the option felt… wrong.
“Thanks,” Alex murmured, taking the ax from Nicole. She turned it over in her hand, unable to pull her eyes from it momentarily. It was heavier than the knives she kept on her that she was barely capable of using effectively. This was different, a fact she had to remind herself of, even if the feeling of holding a sharp object in her hands paired with a sense of desperation to get it right, to be told she was doing a good job, felt the same.
“Anchor point,” Alex repeated, looking over at the pond, “Keeps us from getting flanked by fire, right?” She’d practically memorized the pamphlet in preparation, could probably recite it word for word if she really wanted to. Being part of the action was different though. Already, the sound of the firefighters and other park rangers gathering around the pond was making it louder than she preferred. It was hard to place the different sounds and where they were coming from, something she preferred to do out in the woods where anything could pop up on them and ruin their day. Opposite direction was good, quieter— allowed her to listen for the footsteps or other noises potentially approaching them. “And while we’re going the other direction, we’re looking at the types of burning and communicating that for an effective management plan?”
Something about the ax in her hand made it harder to remember the order of things. Alex took a deep breath as they walked into the trees away from the hustle and bustle by the pond. This ax was just for trees, she didn’t have to fight anything. Whether or not she did a good job wasn’t hanging on her nonexistent combat skills. “What made you choose wildland firefighting,” she asked quietly, listening for the sound of scurrying in the brush. So far, all clear. The next question was a little harder to answer. She knew very well the answer should be law enforcement so she could protect unsuspecting people from the monsters that lurked in the forest, even if she was one of those monsters. It wasn’t hunting, and she wasn’t even sure she wanted that anymore, but it was still protecting people from the supernatural like Durands were supposed to do. Yet, if she were being honest, she much preferred the aspects of the job that involved her sharing her knowledge on all the species of flora and fauna in the area. She loved guiding people along hikes and being able to share something that brought her more peace than anything else could with others. Still, the practiced answer came out smoothly.
“Law enforcement,” Alex answered as if she hadn’t been stuck in a loop of thoughts about how that answer wasn’t what she wanted. Still, she listed off the reasons she used to convince herself to Nicole. “I like the idea of protecting nature and people. But I’ve got time to decide. Still have a couple years left of school.”
Alex looked a little intimidated, disoriented. Either of those, Nicole thought. Or maybe something entirely different. That was always a possibility, considering her struggle to pin down the right words to describe emotions. Whatever it was, something stewed inside her. She couldn’t blame the younger girl for experiencing many things at the moment. It had taken her a few of those prescribed drills to really get over the stimulation coming from every side of the field. Distancing themselves was the right decision.
“You’re getting it” Nicole glanced back at her, nodding proudly as Alex tacked on her explanation. She’d obviously read the pamphlets, but she also had the common sense going for her. “If this was an actual fire we’d have some of those nerdy folks with us going over fire parameters. Length, spread, that type of sh— stuff”. The pair worked in silence for a moment, or rather, Nicole chopped and cut here and there but her eyes were mostly on Alex, making sure she was doing okay. Her apprehension, or whatever she had been feeling earlier seemed to be slowly slipping away with the constant exercise.
It shouldn’t have surprised her, considering they were discussing the topic, but Nicole’s brow creased when she heard the question. Why did she choose wildland firefighting? Her reasoning back then was slightly different from what she would say now. Mostly because she didn’t feel like that person anymore. “Ah… Kept me busy” she shrugged, moving with more precision around the roots. Focusing on the actions to remove the feelings from her explanation. “Exhausted” she added, “less time to—” allow herself to be trapped by a brain that wasn’t fond of her. “It’s less lonely than being a ranger. Team’s got your back, and all that”. Not all of them could be considered friends. But getting an extra Christmas card, or hearing about people’s grandchildren more than made up for it. One of those unexpected gifts of her chosen path.
“I see.” Nicole smiled, cutting away some roots. She gave Alex an approving nod. “I think that’ll work out for you”. People would underestimate her because of her size. She’ll always have the element of surprise going her way. She switched to the ax side of the tool, approaching a mid-sized tree. It looked slightly out of place, but Nicole didn’t think too much of it. And she definitely didn’t expect the tree to retaliate when she tried to chop it. Branch swinging at them. With intent. As if the tree actually knew they were there and wanted them gone. What the— “Fuck. What the— step back!”
Despite the hint of nervous energy that remained, Alex still listened intently as Nicole spoke. It was easier once they were away from all the hustle and bustle. There was information to be picked up in her words, but also encouragement, too. She wished she could bury her claws into the latter and never let it slip away from her. For now, she clung onto it as much as she could and tried to let some semblance of confidence slip in. This wasn’t combat, she could do emergency situations that weren’t combat.
The team aspect made sense. In some ways, she enjoyed being with others when playing soccer and working together, but it was more of a short bursts sort of deal. Part of what she loved about her internship is that a lot of it was just quiet. It allowed her overactive senses some reprieve from the constant array of background noise that was society. “I get that,” she nodded, following alongside the firefighter. Even if it wasn’t necessarily for her, she could see the appeal all the same.
Alex appreciated the vote of confidence with her chosen direction even if she didn’t feel confident about it. That wasn’t something she was quite ready to acknowledge just yet, it wasn’t as if her path needed to be set in stone any time soon. While a distraction from that thought would have been welcomed, she would have much preferred it to have not come in the form of an angry tree swinging at them. “Fuck,” she grumbled, jumping back and looking at the tree with disdain.
She was being directed to keep back, but she wasn’t sure she could just let Nicole handle what was obviously some kind of monster. That wasn’t what she was taught to do, but Alex wasn’t feeling especially brave in that moment as she kept her ax raised hesitantly, unable to fully hide the shake in her hands. “What are the odds it’ll just leave us alone if we go the other way,” she asked nervously.
Nicole laughed despite the terrible timing. Nerves, surely. “Probably not great odds, no” she huffed, retreating until the tree's long branches could no longer reach either of them. She’d never seen something like this before, but it wasn’t unheard of. A few of her more experienced crewmates had stories with boxing trees. If it was the same type of creature, or something different it was impossible to tell. And she had no plans of radioing anyone, potentially derailing a huge prescribed burn. No, they’d get rid of the thing themselves. It stood in the way of the fireline they were trying to dig, after all. How dangerous could a fighting tree be? They just had to duck and—
As if it had read her mind and needed to prove her wrong, the branches shook threateningly and the tree stood straight. A beat later, Nicole felt the ground move under her feet, as its roots started dragging along the ground. Oh. It moved too. Because, of course it did. Not only that, but it was drawing closer again, swinging one of those long branches at them. Fuck. “If we leave, it’ll only attack the next person,” she reasoned, trying to ignore the voice in the back of her head telling her to lead the kid to safety. Except the kid was going to be a park ranger one day, she would have to face worse than this. And she had promised to teach her things, right? This was… it counted. “We can do this. Two against one” She stepped back again, extending her arm to pull Alex along. All she needed was some distance to think first.
Nicole studied the tree, not missing the green glow coming from the split bark. Glow usually meant ghosts, right? Or— No, she could see it without her ghost vision, though. So that meant it had to be something else. The most logical conclusion seemed to be that whatever resided in the bark was probably responsible for keeping the tree alive. If only Wicked Rest worked based on logic. “Might need to… Uh— Should probably attack from different flanks” her head tilted, ax pointing ahead. “Go around the back. I’ll— strike first. Try to hit. But if I don't, you— it’ll be enough distraction for you to get it. Don’t overthink it, just hit it with as much power as you can. Aim means shit here” She signaled for her to go, and Nicole wasted no time inching closer to the tree. As expected it swung in defense, a branch managed to slice the shoulder of her shirt before she could avoid it. Didn’t matter, all she had to do was to get in a good position. She hacked, barely making a dent in the bark, but enough to unleash all the tree’s fury upon her. The ground shook again, roots lining up to move forward, leaving space for Alex to attack.
The trees simply being trees would have been far too simple for the way her luck usually worked out. All Alex wanted to do was to learn about prescribed burns and how to handle situations with fire in the forest, not fight a tree that was a little more alive than it probably should be. The former, she could master if she listened attentively. Fighting though? Time and time again she seemed to fall short in that department no matter how much effort she put into the activity. Which was unfortunate. How could she impress Nicole when combat with a tree was now seemingly part of the equation? The tremble in her hands practically screamed that she was going to let the firefighter down.
After a few steadying breaths, she gripped her ax a bit more strongly and looked to Nicole who was providing direction on how they were going to deal with the angry tree. Alex took note of the respective flanks they were supposed to take even if she felt far from confident about the situation at hand. That didn’t matter though, they were in the moment now and if she didn’t step up to the plate, Nicole could get hurt. “Two against one,” she repeated, more for herself and her own nerves than anything else.
She readied herself and gave Nicole a firm nod. “Hard as I can, got it,” she agreed, even if she wasn’t sure how hard she could really hit. At least aim didn’t matter, which was at least somewhat of a saving grace for Alex. Her aim had always been shit and as much had left her locked in the training room enough time that even the thought of needing to hit a target accurately made her freeze. But this? She could do. She had to. And somehow, with someone beside her on the line, it was a little bit easier to find some steadiness in her hands. “Ok, once you distract it, I’ll come at it,” she answered, more confidently than she felt, but something akin to determination was taking its place.
The tree was focused on Nicole which meant that Alex had to get this right. Someone else being on the line was usually enough to kick her own uncertainty out of the picture. Thankfully, this afternoon seemed to be no different as she gripped the ax in her hand and got a running start toward the tree thing to give her hit more power. She felt the burn in her calves as she put as much speed into her charge as she could. When the ax collided with the tree, there was an echoing crack and the tree’s movements slowed considerably. Unfortunately, her reflexes weren’t any faster as a branch hit the back of her head. “Hey,” she grumbled, “Rude.”
Had it not been such a tense situation, Nicole would’ve been proud of how well Alex was taking to her instructions. Despite how scared she looked, her nervous energy radiating all the way to Nicole. She’d been in her boots not too long ago. Still felt like it in most non-work situations. Shouting any encouraging words might have distracted her though, so she watched her get into place, and they worked in silence.
Until one of the branches hit the girl.
“You’re good!” Nicole screamed, unsure whether she was lying or not. But maybe her certainty would convince Alex to keep going. Maybe her certainty would stop her stomach from twisting at the thought of putting this kid in harm’s way. And once they had this under control they could go get her check. Surely, the helmet had helped prevent worse damage. Right. Alex had hit the tree perfectly, Nicole noticed the fissure where the ax struck, the trees movements were momentarily stunted. It worked. Hurting it worked.
And while the tree was busy trying to get rid of Alex it was time for Nicole to strike. This time properly. She hit once, then twice with the same intensity, watching the crack spread along the bark. A branch scratched her cheek in protest, and she was really thankful she had put on the protective glasses. “Keep going!” The tree now retaliated aimlessly, the unpredictability making it more dangerous. But Nicole kept hacking at it, strong branches slicing through her clothes, bumping against her helmet, scratching her face. The bark split further, and Nicole wondered if it was supposed to be in pain. The green glow distorted, but the tree no longer moved. The branches shook violently, but didn’t swat at them. And when it looked ready to tip, she ran back, motioning Alex to get away too. “Move!”
In any other situation, Alex would have taken a moment to bask in the praise, even if only internally. She had gone into this training wanting to make Nicole proud in hopes that how well the werewolf had done would get back to Jerry. In the back of her mind, she knew it was a little bit delusional to think that being good on paper made her good, but it was a nice delusion to think that she could be. As she followed Nicole’s instruction to a T and kept fighting despite the way it throbbed where the tree had hit her, it felt more like maybe she could be good. Maybe even more than. Were they not keeping other people safe by disposing of this angry, hitting tree? Was that not exactly what her parents had tried to train her to do? There wasn’t really time to contemplate it or drink in the praise that the firefighter offered because there was a fight at hand.
“10-4,” Alex called out as she kept swinging the ax at the tree though her movements were now much more haphazard as she tried to avoid the different branches that erratically flew at her from all directions. Every so often, the blade would hit the tree and make another small mark in it. Despite all the combat training her parents had tried to put her through, this didn’t feel instinctive even if she was moving on autopilot. That wasn’t exactly the move for something that moved so unpredictably, but a few scratches and bruises wouldn’t hurt her. The tree falling on her would, which was why she was glad Nicole’s loud shout pulled her from the repetitive dance she’d found herself in.
She pushed off from where she stood and bolted away from the tree. Alex could feel the pounding of her heart all the way in her ears, where it seemed to echo with a deafening boom. That was quickly overpowered by the actual boom of the temperamental tree falling to the ground. Something of a sigh of relief escaped her lips as she took her place next to Nicole. Now that there was no tree to fight, she was left with only the tension that had coiled its way into her fists and still gripped the handle of the ax tightly. “Well,” she laughed nervously, “They definitely didn’t cover that in the training manual.”
The tree fell, but Nicole wasn’t paying attention anymore. The ground shaking underneath them was enough of a tell, as was the sound of the trunk slamming against the forest floor. Instead of watching, she was reaching for Alex, a firm hand on her shoulder as Nicole scanned for any serious injuries. She noticed her helmet, battered by the tree, and some minor scratches down her neck, but it was okay. Alex was okay. She didn’t feel her grip tightening, too busy being haunted by unwanted memories of other young people she had failed to protect. “Will make sure they add a page on it” she let out a nervous huff, but allowed the corner of her lips to curve into something akin to comfort.
Her immediate reaction once the threat was gone. was to pick up where she left off. Resume trimming and hacking away at roots. Because there was a prescribed burn in the schedule, and Nicole couldn’t fall behind. People were counting on her. But a second glance at Alex made her realize her priorities were all kinds of fucked up. Shit, right. The pang of guilt between her ribs was pretty fucking strong. It was a small reminder she wasn’t quite the person she wanted to be yet. She grasped Alex’s ax, taking it off her hands. “Come on. Should go get you checked. Don’t think Melano will like me much anymore if her trainee goes back looking a mess” she nodded behind them, at the distance, where camp should be. She shot one last look at the tree. Because, this was Wicked’s rest and— No, it didn’t glow anymore. It was just another tree they had chopped.
“I’ll finish this later” Nicole clarified, not allowing for much protest as she made the same trek back to camp. Her gaze lingered on Alex, brow furrowed in concern. She had to make sure she wasn’t shaken, right? Right. Had it been a different scenario —a more personal scenario— she would’ve struggled a lot more to find the right things to say. And maybe, focusing on work wasn’t the strongest form of reassurance, no. But— it was all Nicole could manage at the moment. “You were good. Quick, steady, good following orders” she counted, eyes traveling between the path ahead and the girl. “Can’t blame you if you never wanna deal with Wildland fire again, y’know?” Really couldn’t blame her if she thought it was some kind of hazing. A small smile pulled at her lips, growing self-conscious as the thought formed in her head. “But— Uh, hope I’ll get to train you again. I mean it”. She opted for silence afterward, Nicole was a quiet processor after all. And she thought Alex might also enjoy the walk back to camp with some time to figure out how she felt about everything. It was alright, they could discuss the events in the nursing tent, because despite what she had initially thought, she wasn’t planning on going back out there anymore.
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This inspired me to write a thingy!
It's 2024 a short kick into the new millennium.
I am woken up by the horrible screeching sound of my now antiquated analog alarm clock. "Manufactured in the Soviet Union" it says on the back, that particular model would've been made around the 1960s if memory serves me.
Doesn't matter anymore the Soviets are long gone, replaced by a democracy then a dictatorship.
I suppose a lot of things don't matter anymore after the rise of the cellular handset most of the little things around your house didn't need to be there anymore. Paper, pens, alarm clocks, a television set even. They could do everything and so why need anything else the ads said.
The corporations didn't tell us that every thing we did on those damn things would be logged into our new "digital selves" used to sell us all the endless new things they made up after making everything before irrelevant. At least that's how it went in the public's mind.
In actuality we signed contracts. Legally binding contracts hundreds of pages long utterly uninterpretable by the lay person allowing the handset manufacturers to do just about anything they wanted with our information and lives.
But anyway back to my alarm clock, I suppose I keep the wrenched old thing plugged in because it reminds me of a bygone era where my digital self didn't exist. one in which I didn't pass 2 dozen cameras riding my little electric scrambler on the way to work. One where the sky wasn't filled with smoke for half the year due to the great Canadian wildfires. One where 250,000 people didn't control a third of the world's wealth.
I sigh... no use getting myself worked up again. I take a puff off my battery operated cigarette, throw on my 100% nylon jacket, jam the cigarette and handset into their respective pockets and head out the door.
As I climb onto my scrambler I take another puff of the cig, I start to gasp and cough as the artificial smoke fills my lungs "damnit" I mutter as I realize I must've bumped the voltage up while putting it into my pocket. The garage starts to open revealing the cracked concrete and floodlights in my driveway. I regather myself, hear the engine whirring up, roll down the driveway and into the desolate and smog filled streets.
the year was Two Thousand and twenty-four. I took a puff of my Electronic-Cigarette, inhaling the vapours. my mobile terminal buzzed in my pocket, a flat slab of microchips and glossy touchscreen. I ignored it....... probably another Electronic-Mail
#pls don't be mean i taught myself how to read and write in English#creative writing#writing#sifi#Ollie writes
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While in deep sleep tuning fork synchronized circadian rhythm in pitch perfect qi
while channeling the energy of Google exemplified by cute and cuddly moogle.
I awoke from mid-day siesta exuding peaceful easy feeling total all encompassing bliss suffused body electric of mine. Ecstasy resonated within these lovely bones triggering subliminal stimuli from head to toe profound tranquility linkedin entire corporeal essence, what me worry mindset bundled every nerve transcendent state issued forth analogous to standing in the middle of an intersection, where converged sense and sensibility without pride or prejudice experienced as orgasmic natural high rippling into soothing nexus of acute momentary emotional nirvana watching within third eye blind "the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog" which sentence contains all the letters of the alphabet if in doubt (take a pawn) and Google for yourself. Despite any care and concern within the webbed wide world, I seemed to float above the fracas, especially the fiasco of the fires their utter ruination laying waste entire Los Angeles neighborhoods seen from afar absolute zero familiarization, a futile endeavor trying to identify any hint of recognition impossible mission to comprehend the mind boggling death and destruction encompassing the second largest city within the contiguous United States far as the eye can see extensive obliteration and desolation analogous to aftermath of dropped atomic bombs unleashing their powerful fury minus the radiation fallout offering foretaste of hell on earth annihilating life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness shaking and baking bedrock faith witnessing enraged shaking fists screaming (at the top of one's seared lungs) accursed blasphemy exploding against omnipotent creator questioning unfair punishment, nevertheless birthing good samaritans offering emotional nurturance while drones buzzfeed truckloads of information using radio frequency (RF) communication through a data link, sending data like location, altitude, speed, and live video footage from the drone's camera back to the ground control station via a dedicated transmitter and receiver, typically operating on frequencies like 2.4 GHz or 5.8 GHz depending on the drone model and intended range; this allows for real-time control and monitoring of the drone's flight. Suddenly doggone petty trials and tribulations in Lake Wobegon (my adopted hometown out there on the prairie offtimes visited by Garrison Keillor) finds us speechless, and numb structures of silence crackling, popping and snapping courtesy non-verbal communication linkedin to eerie decimation courtesy ferocious acceleration of Santa Ana winds strong, dry, and hot winds that blow from the inland areas of Southern California towards the coast, typically originating from a high pressure system over the Great Basin desert, causing them to be very warm and dry as they descend through mountain passes, often exacerbating wildfire risks; they got named after the Santa Ana Mountains through which they frequently flow.
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◟༺✦༻◞ Obsidian Codex: Reckoning of the Xenogenic.
In the days when the dispossessed divine envoy fell into realms devoid of light, and when the ruler newly returned destroyed the blasphemous citadel, Many stories transpired that were never recorded or eulogized in any human history.
[...] In the kingdom of vishaps lucky enough to survive when heaven and earth collapsed, isolated by a vast sea of red soil, Where their kin could only scrape by, impoverished, in the expanse of the desolate sea, they enjoyed freedom by the grace of the one who ruled over flames. And yet the wisdom of fire had already been seized by the tide of feculent darkness, only its gray corpse shambled on. To maintain dragonkind's remnant might, their blind, foolish heirs took violence for the rule of law. [...] Thus, passing through searing flame and raging wind, it took as-yet unextinguished primordial kindling from the ancient palace beneath the magma. Bearing the hopes of another race, the wisest of dragons bid farewell to the splendorous city ineffable.
◟༺✦༻◞ Obsidian Codex: Root of the Spirit-Marrow.
In the age when wildfire consumed the roots of the world, and when the barbarian tribes sliced through the briars to open the mountains and woods, Many stories transpired that were never recorded or eulogized in any human history.
[...] Until one day, when the fog dispersed in a deep valley, it discovered the creator's most beloved, and yet the weakest of species, Those who should still have been wrapped in swaddling cloths yet were born in a land where dragons did dance, and so could only eke out survival in the shadow of ancient wings. Though they had long lost their guidance, forgotten their past histories and memories, and lost themselves amidst mountain and wood, they endured still. Marveling at their tenacity, unity, and courage, the sage amongst dragons resolved to grant them the kindling of wisdom, But that precious gift was not without cost. It would civilize these barbarians, but it would also order their destinies. For unlike the plan of that first divine one, what the most sage one brought was the profane path of "evolution," Its far sight had divined that at the end of that path, human blood would be poured into the derelict body of the moribund earth, Merging two species and two bloodlines as one, and thus would an ancient pulse surge through a reborn civilization.
◟༺✦༻◞ Obsidian Codex: Myths of the Night Realm.
In the years when ancient humans dammed up the black tide with their very bodies, in the days when floating land and eternal night still walked separate roads, Many stories transpired that were never recorded or eulogized in any human history.
[...] Legend holds that the great Sage who dwelled in the stillness of the floating land knew the answer to all questions in the mortal world, But that even he had no answer to two matters: the end of the living, and the homeward path of the dead. Perhaps it was that the gods of the night realm ruled over the underworld, for they were great foes of the Sage in ancient days, Or perhaps his long-considered plan would crumble should the everlasting flame reconnect with the roots of the earth. [...] Having mastered the majestic primal fire, fearless Chaac and his companions at last defeated that raging, wicked dragon, and founded the first tribe. [...] And the god of the night realm responded. That night, people throughout the land seemed to hear voices from another world, Like a mother's clear song, like the low whispers of old friends — the birth-cry of the first Wayob of the Night Kingdom.
◟༺✦༻◞ Obsidian Codex: Pre-Banquet of the Contenders.
[...] When the hero who had drawn from the flame rode a tamed beast to the fortress built from massive stones through the guidance of the tribal Wayob; When the reptiles that dwelled within a city so ancient that none knew its builders scaled its twisted towers in terror, Only the wisest among dragons stood within the stagnant void, a silent observer of the grand, drawn-out tragedy. Though the envoy of dusk was not part of its plan, the path of "evolution" did not thus deviate. [...] In his name, they would make a covenant, raise a banner of the blazing sun, and march upon the city of deep wells, that even gods had yet to conquer. On that day, the living corpse on the throne would spit forth flame that could stain the sky red, and the new king would receive the primal fire as a tribute due them for ascension. On that day, the dragons would once more bow before the overlord of two worlds, and the knowledge of countless years of civilization would be open to him. For it knew that the foes in the shadows were not far off. Indeed, they still hid in the night's deepest depths, waiting to strike a final blow. For it knew that neither the gods in their heavens nor the high king among dragons would suffice — all knowledge and strength had to be gathered before that day came. Only by this could his stubborn kin awaken from the ancient, shattered dreams of a decrepit king. Only by this could the ancient civilization welcome suitable successors and find its footing once more on the earth.
◟༺✦༻◞ Obsidian Codex: Crown of the Saints.
In the era when the dark tide of filth arose from the sky's edge and heroes sun-bright marched forth to conquer, Many stories transpired that were never recorded or eulogized in any human history.
Disagreements born from blades can only be resolved by the blade, and delusion born from ambition can only be subdued by ambition still greater. And the one who had thought itself master over evolution never imagined that those with strength would give it an answer beyond conquest and slaughter. Under the sun's radiance did the tribes make a pact of armistice, and thus did the sacred ones of the night realm lay their arguments aside and offer him the crown. The dawn of a new era emerged over the horizon, and when that light illuminated the earth, even the beasts of darkness had nowhere to hide.
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Trinity Alps Uber Alles (1/5)
Me being me, of course I never feel like I've backpacked "enough" by the end of the season. My own personal "season" is constrained by work rather than by weather, so it's a little shorter than the "real" backpacking season, I can hardly complain: because of my annual three-month summer break, in theory any summer day that isn't already set aside for visits with family or friends and isn't spoiled by wildfire smoke is a day that I could be out in the woods somewhere.
And that's great! I'm very fortunate to have that time. But, in a weird way, that fortune also ends up being the problem: inevitably, I have to take some time "off" (from work, hiking, and socializing) during the summer...but then, when September rolls around and the beginning of fall term closes in, it's easy to look back and regret having taken those rest days, to have "failed" to fill every day of the summer to the brim while I had the chance. When you have very little except work stretching out in front of you for the next nine months, it's easy to beat yourself up in retrospect for lazing around during a few July days when you could have been outside walking a ridgeline in the sun. After all, there's so much out there to see, and only one life to see it in.
It's carpe diem as self-flagellation, I guess.
This is why, over the last few years, I've started trying to take one final, extra-long, extra-memorable backpacking trip in early September as a sort of last hurrah before my season ends. It doesn't actually do much to mitigate end-of-season blues in the end, but I do end up feeling like I've gone out on a high note at least.
Maybe obviously, this is all leading up to me writing about this year's big September blowout trip.
So this year, I was feeling the end-of-season blues a bit more than usual, for two reasons. First of all, it was the end of my sabbatical, and during my sabbatical, last fall, I'd been able to stretch my personal backpacking season well beyond mid-September for the first time...ever, I guess? I'd done way more hiking than I would have been able to during a normal summer and then closed out the season with two long, massively fun fall trips: one that combined a loop around the southern end of the Wallowas range with a loop around the Strawberry Mountain wilderness, and the second that combined the Broken Top Loop and the Three Sisters Loop together into the longest solo hike I've done in my life so far. And then I managed, unexpectedly, to pull off a twenty-five miler overnight in the Eddy Mountains at the beginning November, literally pulling out of the Parks Creek Trailhead parking lot to drive home as the first big snow of the year started drifting down onto the summit of Mount Shasta. It was wonderful. As the end of this summer loomed, I was keenly aware that being back on my normal schedule was going to preclude such early-fall shenanigans.
Second, Lindsey and I spent a lot of time with family over the early part of this summer (which was great!) and smoke settled into many of my favorite hiking spots earlier in the summer than expected (which was not great!), both of which meant that in spite of getting a few short trips in in June (like to Lone Pilot, along the McKenzie River, and to Wahtum Lake, all of which I wrote about here recently), the middle of the summer was pretty devoid of hiking adventures for the first time in...forever? It was a bummer, but it made me extra determined to make up for it as much as I could by filling late August and early September with some adventures.
This led first to my return trip to Desolation Wilderness, which I just finished writing about here. But then...where to next? I took a road trip out to Denver at the end of August to see Phish, and had originally planned to pack for and try to take the loop around the Maroon Bells while I was out there, but I chickened out in the end because of my lack of experience with Colorado summer thunderstorms and a fear of getting murdered by moose (whose behaviors I am also unfamiliar with). I'd wanted to take a swing at the Sawtooths' Grand Loop all summer, but the Boise-and-Sawtooth area had been swathed by fires and smoke all summer, and continued to be into September. I'd also been hoping all summer to make it down to the Emigrant Wilderness at some point, and had a fifty-plus-mile loop I'd dreamed up in mind for that area, but after driving so much for most of the summer and having just driven a nearly three-thousand-mile circle out to Denver and back, the idea of putting in sixteen to twenty more hours of driving only to come home and immediately start work again seemed like a bit too much.
Writing this now, in November, with all the trailheads snowed in and work piling up, I sort of wish I'd gone for it, but what are you gonna do?
Anyway, somewhere in all my hemming and hawing, I remembered a moment during a standing break Ken and I had taken on the climb up to Hidden Valley on Shasta's southwestern flank back in June. We'd looked out at the mountains rising into view in the distance and I'd seen the snow-burnished line of the Trinity Alps drawing a highlight across the sky behind the Eddys for what felt like the first time in a long time. Factually, it had only been just over a year since Lindsey and I had last been there, when we'd taken a three-day trip up into the Canyon Creek and Boulder Creek Lakes basins. And that had been a great trip.
But it felt like it had been way, way too long since I'd seen the Caribou Basin, or the Sawtooth Ridge, or Sapphire Lake, or Morris Meadows. It had been way, way too long since I'd camped above Echo Lake and watched the drama of even a normal old sunset unfold from that perch. It had been way, way too long since I'd stopped a third of the way through the Four Lakes Loop and thought "Why the hell am I doing this to myself?!". Ever since I had spent a solid chunk of the summers of 2021 and 2022 exploring as much of the Trinities as my legs could manage, I'd dreamed of stitching together a route that would let me tackle as many of its wonderful scenic vistas in five days as humanly possible.
Now, it was almost mid-September, and, miraculously, the Alps were the only area within a five-hour drive that had decent air quality. The beginning of the school year was looming, but I still had a week of sabbatical freedom left. The decision of how to send off the summer of 2024 in style was suddenly way easier than I'd been making it. I opened up GaiaGPS and started drawing up a route through the Trinity Alps that I was pretty sure wouldn't kill me.
There is a lot to love about the Alps, which is probably why I love them so much. But I think it's fair to say that there are a few widely agreed-upon "greatest hits," areas in that wilderness that come with all the pros (incredible vistas, pristine alpine lakes, mind-boggling hiking terrain) and cons (congestion, limited camping options, jackasses with Bluetooth speakers) that that entails. In my mind, these are: Caribou Basin, Emerald and Sapphire Lakes, Morris Meadows, the Four Lakes Loop, and Canyon Creek. Previous daydreaming and a quick refresher glance at the topo map confirmed what I expected: it was likely physically possible for me to knit together a loop that hit all of these spots except for Canyon Creek over the course of five days.
I was really charmed by the idea of hitting all of these spots on one trip, of course, but Canyon Creek is at the head of the next valley over from Morris Meadows, and because they're separated by Sawtooth Mountain and the absolutely gnarly ridge that extends south from that peak, including it would mean doing one of two things: 1) scrambling off-trail for miles to make it up and over the Sawtooth Mountain ridge and then back down into Canyon Creek, the kind of thing I would have barely felt comfortable doing fifteen years ago and without a full backpacking pack or 2) taking the Bear Creek Trail to the south end of the Canyon Creek Trail, then making a huge lollypop handle out of hiking north to the lakes, then back south to Bear Creek, then back up Bear Creek Trail to Morris Meadows. The second option was the only one that seemed even remotely safe, and it would add at least two days to my trip while making it decidedly not a loop anymore.
I likely could have found a way to pack seven days' worth of food without resupplying, but I just didn't want to. Canyon Creek was out, the five-day loop was in.
Because we're talking the Trinity Alps here, the first trial was just getting to the trailhead with my car in one piece. I had decided to start from the Big Flat Campground, because it was the starting point that made the "loop" the most like an actual loop. I had only driven to Big Flat once before, years ago when I had hiked up into Caribou Basin for the first time. It had been a great hike, but I had avoided Big Flat since because I'd remembered the drive as one of the worst I'd ever done.
Unfortunately, my memory was accurate.
The first few hours of the drive, from Klamath Falls to Coffee Creek, were the same as always: beautiful, lonely, windy to the point of being nausea-inducing. I stopped at the Coffee Creek ranger station to fill out a fire permit and contemplate throwing up my breakfast in the bushes (I decided not to), and then I started off down Coffee Creek Road. In terms of potholes and other things that can potentially damage your car (or you), this road isn't particularly bad. It actually isn't even that windy (having done it about fifteen times at this point, I'd argue that coming down the south side of the Parks Creek hill is way worse). But it is just windy enough and just potholed enough that it takes somewhere between sixty and ninety minutes to drive the nineteen miles to the trailhead. But it's more an endurance test than anything else: when I got to the trailhead I was much less nauseous and stressed than I'd been when I arrived at Coffee Creek...I was just bored instead.
Fortunately, it only took me a few minutes to get my gear together and then I was off southward on the Caribou Lake Trail. Almost immediately I passed a returning solo hiker who looked completely strung out and bedraggled, with eyes only for his car (and presumably restaurant food and a real bed). I should have taken this as a warning, but I just happily waved hello and sped up slightly.
The first small stretch of trail below Big Flat is actually pretty confusing. This isn't really anyone's fault, but there are a lot of trails intersecting here (the Old Caribou Trail, the (New) Caribou Trail, the Valley Loop Trail, and the Tri-Forest Trail) and the South Fork of the Salmon River cuts through some of the intersections, making them messier than they would otherwise be. I leaned a bit more on my GaiaGPS app than usual to make sure I was headed the right way, then started climbing on the Old Caribou Trail. The (New) Caribou Trail would have also gotten me to my first night's destination, but it was both shorter and steeper than its older brother (sister?). I had a vague memory of taking the old trail up into the basin last time and the new trail back down, and that memory led me to, this time, err on the side of taking the longer and less steep option. At first, my thought was that it would be a way to avoid overheating in the sun, but it became clear pretty quickly that that wouldn't be a problem today.

It was a cloudy day, but the clouds were feathery and sporadic. The air was cool, and the light breeze was cooler. It was fall in the Trinity Alps, which was a new experience for me. I stuck to the "easier" Old Caribou Trail nonetheless, and enjoyed the colors of ground cover that hovered between end-of-summer and start-of-fall in spite of the evidence all around of the 2021 Haypress Fire, which had burnt this part of the wilderness to the ground since my last trip there in 2017.
The wreckage of the fire was clear from the beginning and was impossible to ignore during my entire approach to the Caribou Basin. Last time, this stretch of trail had run underneath a canopy of old pine trees; now, burnt half-trunks stood like monuments marking what had passed. I tried to take solace in the views that opened up across the wasteland in the absence of the once-great forest.

After a few hours of low-grade but relentless climbing, broken up by one flat-ish section of trail that passed through the still-beautiful Browns Meadow, I followed the trail around one more corner before suddenly, in a reveal so dramatic it feels like the trail was engineered this way on purpose, the brown-and-green landscape gave way to the characteristic and striking granite of the White Trinities. Majestic Caesar Peak hung just below the sky across the divide. I stopped and took a deep breath, then snapped some photos. I was back.

You see the Caribou Basin long before you're actually able to get to it. That's because at the same moment that you enter into the granite fields of the White Trinities, you also enter into the rugged heart of the Alps themselves, and the trail stops being a traditional trail and starts being...sort of like a halfhearted apology? It does the best it can first climbing and then switchbacking down Caribou Mountain's northwestern ridge. It can feel frustrating and prolonged if you aren't prepared, but I'd been here before, and, of the five days of hiking I had planned for this trip, this was the "easy" day (nominally, at least). I tried my best to enjoy it.

You do eventually have to lose a fair amount of altitude here that you have to later gain again to reach the shores of Upper Caribou Lake. That felt a little galling, but I contented myself by occasionally looking back at the crazy path the trail takes and appreciating the terrain I'd already covered.

Finally, about seven miles and 3,500 feet of gain ("easy day," my ass!) from the car, the trail dropped me down toward Snowslide Lake.

Here, the trail contours around the western edge of Snowslide Lake before ascending again atop the natural granite dam that you can see separating Snowslide from Lower Caribou Lake in the photo. Climbing across the dam, with pristine alpine lakes on both sides of you is...pretty fun.
There are actually some badass camp sites right at Snowslide Lake (and probably some I've never found at Lower Caribou), but for me the main event is Upper Caribou, so I kept going. There some climbing up some granite steps and over some granite benches here, so you have to watch the trail pretty carefully and, occasionally, give up on it entirely and just follow the best-looking cairns you can find, but eventually you'll either hit Upper Caribou or accidentally climb an entire mountain.
I got to Upper Caribou a bit earlier than I expected. It was less the snowy wonderland it had been during my stay in 2017 and more the dry granite basin that it had been when I'd come up from the south in 2022, but it was just as beautiful as ever.

Being me, I spent a fair amount of the day's remaining sunlight scouring the granite and peridotite hills for The Perfect Campsite. First, I dropped my pack and headed out, but only made it about two hundred feet before I remembered the local deers' hunger for salt (and therefore, for camping gear). I hustled back to my pack to find a deer already licking and nibbling the shoulder straps. A little bit of screaming later, I had my pack back and was wandering again, albeit having gained thirty-five or so pounds.
I felt like a bit of a loser for this, but eventually I settled into the same spot I'd camped in in 2022: it's a great compromise between having views of the lake and having protection from the wind. This wind wasn't nearly as intense as the Desolation Wilderness wind had been for all four days of that trip, but it was insistent enough that I didn't want to try to sleep directly in its path if I could help it.
I got camp set up just in time to catch the alpenglow along Caribou Mountain's ridge.

It was a short walk from my site to the top of the granite dam that separates Upper Caribou from the lower lakes. This is one of my absolute favorite views in all of the Alps. It's especially striking during the sunset, so I sat up there and watched the sun go down for as long as I could, before I got too cold and had to retreat back to the tent.

I made and ate dinner, and was so warmed up and energized by the time I was done that I spent some time clambering around in the dark, taking night photos. Eventually, though, the cold and the 4,000-ish-foot day caught up with me and I crawled into the tent to sleep.

I'd expected to be woken up regularly all night by deer (which is what had happened the last two times I'd camped here), but whether it was because of my earplugs or because I was seemingly the only person camping in the basin that night, the deer were nowhere to be heard. I slept like a log and woke in the morning excited to tackle the Sawtooth Traverse.
#hiking#walking#backpacking#camping#mountains#photos#writing#trip report#norcal#northern california#trinity alps
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◟༺✦༻◞ Obsidian Codex: Reckoning of the Xenogenic.
In the days when the dispossessed divine envoy fell into realms devoid of light, and when the ruler newly returned destroyed the blasphemous citadel, Many stories transpired that were never recorded or eulogized in any human history.
[...] In the kingdom of vishaps lucky enough to survive when heaven and earth collapsed, isolated by a vast sea of red soil, Where their kin could only scrape by, impoverished, in the expanse of the desolate sea, they enjoyed freedom by the grace of the one who ruled over flames. And yet the wisdom of fire had already been seized by the tide of feculent darkness, only its gray corpse shambled on. To maintain dragonkind's remnant might, their blind, foolish heirs took violence for the rule of law. [...] Thus, passing through searing flame and raging wind, it took as-yet unextinguished primordial kindling from the ancient palace beneath the magma. Bearing the hopes of another race, the wisest of dragons bid farewell to the splendorous city ineffable.
◟༺✦༻◞ Obsidian Codex: Root of the Spirit-Marrow.
In the age when wildfire consumed the roots of the world, and when the barbarian tribes sliced through the briars to open the mountains and woods, Many stories transpired that were never recorded or eulogized in any human history.
[...] Until one day, when the fog dispersed in a deep valley, it discovered the creator's most beloved, and yet the weakest of species, Those who should still have been wrapped in swaddling cloths yet were born in a land where dragons did dance, and so could only eke out survival in the shadow of ancient wings. Though they had long lost their guidance, forgotten their past histories and memories, and lost themselves amidst mountain and wood, they endured still. Marveling at their tenacity, unity, and courage, the sage amongst dragons resolved to grant them the kindling of wisdom, But that precious gift was not without cost. It would civilize these barbarians, but it would also order their destinies. For unlike the plan of that first divine one, what the most sage one brought was the profane path of "evolution," Its far sight had divined that at the end of that path, human blood would be poured into the derelict body of the moribund earth, Merging two species and two bloodlines as one, and thus would an ancient pulse surge through a reborn civilization.
◟༺✦༻◞ Obsidian Codex: Myths of the Night Realm.
In the years when ancient humans dammed up the black tide with their very bodies, in the days when floating land and eternal night still walked separate roads, Many stories transpired that were never recorded or eulogized in any human history.
[...] Legend holds that the great Sage who dwelled in the stillness of the floating land knew the answer to all questions in the mortal world, But that even he had no answer to two matters: the end of the living, and the homeward path of the dead. Perhaps it was that the gods of the night realm ruled over the underworld, for they were great foes of the Sage in ancient days, Or perhaps his long-considered plan would crumble should the everlasting flame reconnect with the roots of the earth. [...] Having mastered the majestic primal fire, fearless Chaac and his companions at last defeated that raging, wicked dragon, and founded the first tribe. [...] And the god of the night realm responded. That night, people throughout the land seemed to hear voices from another world, Like a mother's clear song, like the low whispers of old friends — the birth-cry of the first Wayob of the Night Kingdom.
◟༺✦༻◞ Obsidian Codex: Pre-Banquet of the Contenders.
[...] When the hero who had drawn from the flame rode a tamed beast to the fortress built from massive stones through the guidance of the tribal Wayob; When the reptiles that dwelled within a city so ancient that none knew its builders scaled its twisted towers in terror, Only the wisest among dragons stood within the stagnant void, a silent observer of the grand, drawn-out tragedy. Though the envoy of dusk was not part of its plan, the path of "evolution" did not thus deviate. [...] In his name, they would make a covenant, raise a banner of the blazing sun, and march upon the city of deep wells, that even gods had yet to conquer. On that day, the living corpse on the throne would spit forth flame that could stain the sky red, and the new king would receive the primal fire as a tribute due them for ascension. On that day, the dragons would once more bow before the overlord of two worlds, and the knowledge of countless years of civilization would be open to him. For it knew that the foes in the shadows were not far off. Indeed, they still hid in the night's deepest depths, waiting to strike a final blow. For it knew that neither the gods in their heavens nor the high king among dragons would suffice — all knowledge and strength had to be gathered before that day came. Only by this could his stubborn kin awaken from the ancient, shattered dreams of a decrepit king. Only by this could the ancient civilization welcome suitable successors and find its footing once more on the earth.
◟༺✦༻◞ Obsidian Codex: Crown of the Saints.
In the era when the dark tide of filth arose from the sky's edge and heroes sun-bright marched forth to conquer, Many stories transpired that were never recorded or eulogized in any human history.
Disagreements born from blades can only be resolved by the blade, and delusion born from ambition can only be subdued by ambition still greater. And the one who had thought itself master over evolution never imagined that those with strength would give it an answer beyond conquest and slaughter. Under the sun's radiance did the tribes make a pact of armistice, and thus did the sacred ones of the night realm lay their arguments aside and offer him the crown. The dawn of a new era emerged over the horizon, and when that light illuminated the earth, even the beasts of darkness had nowhere to hide.
#◟༺✧༻◞ fragments of light from the roots of truth ┊reference.┊#◟༺✧༻◞ memories are all but forgotten in the river of time ┊queue.┊
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Running to the Forests
To love something is to let it go, to love something is to allow it to exist free from the confines of your perception. To love the forest is to allow it to burn in search of greatness, and to love the burnt trees is to allow them time and space to regenerate.
We the people cannot be separated from the branches of the trees, humans have been on the continent of North America for tens of thousands of years, and generations of people have grown up among the pines.
Here in Western Montana, you can see the smoke across the horizon, another reminder the people here have been removed from the land they love. It's not that they would not allow the burns, on the contrary, but the new methods of forest stewardship are not those that show love to the lands. Culturally important species, those that hold a place in societal practice and often in spirituality, are being choked by "common sense".
To assume with fire comes damage is understandable, we can see the smoky ghosts of ponderosas and fir, and run our hands across the blackened bark until we too are covered in a layer of char. The next season, among black spires and broken branches, the huckleberries and the deer and the other brothers and sisters of the forest will come. The trees will sprout again, cones opened by the flames, growing green toward the sky like their ancestors have for generations. There is beauty in the desolation, for it is merely a new beginning, not a time of destruction.
And just like the trees, sometimes humans need to let themselves burn to bring forth more beauty. Sometimes we need to let what comes, come, and what may be, be. Fill yourself with wildfire smoke, let the fire open pinecones of hope and potential, and bring forth the worlds inside your heart.
#ponderosa#douglas fir#spruce trees#wildfires#climate action#climate change#environmental science#forestry#traditional medicine#traditional ecological knowledge#academia#college#ethnobotany#montana#university of montana#missoula#western#american west#native traditions#american ecology
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(grabs you by the shoulder) Hi. 2.1k words.
Very little leaves Desiree horrified, you see.
She’s a genie, a djinn if you’re being weird about it; Genies grant wishes, and the desires of others can be…Well, rather fucked up.
And the people who could only be saved by a wish are those in such desolate state that Fate itself would prefer to pretend they don’t exist, the birsmirchment on existence too great to admit to.
If she was kinder about her wishes to such folk, that was between her and her final obliteration.
But her point was, most people wanted to use her to be lazy. To not have to dirty their hands with the task they set before her, be it in laziness or attempted refusal of responsibility for their actions. Murder was a fantastically common example of the latter.
So picture; She’s finally broken the brats latest attempts to ward her out of the town, and risen through the building.
Maybe she even left already and came back to leave a nasty surprise for the brat, who knew but for her, really?
The brat had been slumped over on a desk, talking to a painted rubber duck, the red head and cyan body oddly bright in the room.
As odd as it was, she couldn’t claim to care about it. Soliloquizing to inanimate objects was not as uncommon as people liked to pretend.
What was odder was that she snuck up on him, but the answer was simple; He had a cough.
A slight wheeze that had him choking and spluttering on the slightest of wrong movements easily hid the gasp of cold the brat gave.
It was a perfect chance, really.
For someone who had a more offensive powerset, that was. He wasn’t so inexperienced anymore; Any real fight would be her end.
Still, she could be annoying in the mundane sense. She just needed to figure out how while he was distracted.
And then her spotlight towards her goals, once he had stopped coughing.
“I just wish I could go back to when I wasn’t in danger. Just… just safe again.”
By all rights, this one should've been easy.
See, she had world ending powers by all accounts. Time, or the illusion thereof, being rewound on a global scale was not an object.
Obsession bloomed in her core, and her work should’ve been done in moments as she purred out “As you desire.”
It really shouldn’t have taken any thought. Most people’s words are easy to define away into the unideal or downright harmful.
The caveat to that is that she must still abide by her own definitions and technicalities, if no-one else’s could be abused.
But hey, sometimes a wish is genuinely complicated. Sometimes it has a lot of fiddly bits to pull off or needs extra information she didn’t get to look at before jumping in.
Safe is… Safe is a funny word, she’d have to say. Any of the living could trip on steps and die on impact. They’d be terribly unlucky, but not the first to die in such a manner.
So any definition had to, by default, forbid such realities from counting. If it counted, then there was no time at all she could send him.
It had to be his own specific problems.
It should’ve been automatic; Put him before the portal, maybe by a couple of years. Maybe make him a baby again. Who cares?
Safe is an annoying word. Safe is a word that cannot be defined by any one person to fit a whole, and must be assessed on a case by case basis.
The brat was a child. Children, to be safe, would be in low physical danger with access to basic physical needs.
She wasn’t sure what she bounced off of, at first. She had to look to find out.
The Fenton parents had never abided an OSHA law in their lives. They might argue that there were no established laws for their work, and she might have granted plausibility to such an argument if common sense had not evaded them so thoroughly.
No gun with a safety had been created in the house. Every stove repaired hardly better than standing near a wildfire.
She could ignore physical needs, at least, though the images left a bad taste in her mouth. A pantry stocked, as was their job. Never more. Never at the dinner table, never cooking.
His sister did that.
But Desiree could go further back.
Further.
And even further.
Sharp glass, contaminated labs let to the children to clean, insane behavior towards any electronic.
Could she even count the food as fine? They had no issues with letting cross contamination happen.
Young. Younger. Youngest.
Eight, nearly dead by proto-gun. He would never comprehend how lucky he was.
Six, they left for the week. For once they had not remembered to restock the pantry. Jasmine herself was not legally old enough to care for him, anyhow.
Four. They hadn’t learned to keep samples out of the fridge from the first poisoning, clearly.
Two. Can’t they keep a toddler out of the lab? It couldn't be that hard...
Zero should not be an age she ever looked at. But from the day he was brought home, he was in danger.
Now though, in this mess of a wish, she was dragged forward by her obsession.
It had to be complete. She could help or harm but she had to do it, she had to fulfill a desire as stated.
And all through the pregnancy, there was never a time where the contamination was acceptable. She never stopped.
Maddie Fenton would be dead before she’d consider fixing either.
Desiree shouldn’t have made it this far in the search to complete the wish, yet she couldn’t undefine safe to fit. The child would need to be in no notable danger from his environment.
The wish was uncompleteable without reaching through time to mess with these idiots neurons. Whatever her illustrative powers to force the world to turn back, or seem to, there were too many steps involved to both turn back the clock and change the people in the past. Whatever happened needed to be a logical consequence of one or the other, not both.
Such a wish would’ve, should’ve, left her drained yet smug.
Instead she had watched this boys life flash before her eyes and was left to wonder if CPS was a myth the living spoke of.
Vision clearing, cracks moving along her core, she was left blinking up at him.
She knew a lost fight when she got into one, and it took hours to lose him. She was lucky she couldn’t hear him over the wind and her thrumming core, she was certain of that.
He had no issues leveraging her obsession against her any of the previous times, so why now?
It all left her hiding out in a warehouse, glaring the Box Ghost into submission.
Lucky her, most ghosts thought she was stronger than she actually was. Even in their own piece of land she was believed to be best dealt with by not interacting.
She was sure the moment she touched a box it was time to leave again, but she just…
She needed time.
The child was a brat, to be certain. She would not be swayed on this topic.
A brat with a sad life, and a sad little burden all on his lonesome.
But she’d known that, hadn’t she? Never questioned it. Mocked him for it.
Dead, or a creepy little boy with creepy powers?
Creepy powers that could very well get him killed the rest of the way if his parents found out. Who knew what the lunatics would do.
A brat with nobody meaningfully in his corner. Nobody who both cared and was capable of protection.
Maybe that’s why he was Obsessed with protecting other people. Nobody who mattered for the job had deigned to do it for even a single moment in his life.
“I, THE BOX GHOST, HAVE RESIGNED TO ASKING YOU WHY YOU ARE HEErrrEEE.” The fool shouted, waving his arms. Boxes rattled around her in a threat display.
She was forced to give due respect to the display, and calmly put her hands up in accordance; Anything could be a formidable weapon if one were determined enough to make it work.
“I got ran off by the brat, and this has enough energy and low visibility on his radar.”
There wasn’t much need to lie.
Box Ghost seemed to assess this, floating around her in a circle path before shrugging.
“What, so, a day that ends in Y?” He asked, dropping the facade.
“It’s more… how I lost, than that I lost.” She offered carefully. She was in Box Ghost’s lair, and she knew that her welcome was thin to start with.
She suspected the look on Box’s face was more stink eye than proper appraisal.
“Look, I don’t want to fend you off. I’ll lose too many boxes doing that if you’re just… floating here. But I was hoping to have Lunch Lady over.” Box expressed, annoyed.
“As you desire.” She mocked, lifting towards the ceiling. This was not her territory to fight over, and she had so few offensive options if Box got a bright idea.
“Don’t even joke.” He groaned, going back to… categorizing boxes?
Not her Obsession, not her curiosity. She is out.
It still left her with a slightly cracked core and an angry teenager tearing his life to pieces to find the altered piece, looking for her all the while.
She was plenty capable of granting more wishes, at least. It would make her heal faster to do so.
Quiet, easy, mostly inane and stupid. Holding herself back from screwing people over too royally, lest the brat find her much too quickly.
It was easy and largely mind-numbing. He wanted money, she wanted the ‘stupid cunt’ to shut up, they as a collective wanted free-time to go camping.
A couple of twenties in the house to cover more groceries if noting else, all that took was a brief possession and staring more intently at the antagonistic woman's own computer, and it wasn’t hard to clear the troublesome one’s schedule.
Can’t have a schedule be blocked off if his abusive bitch of a girlfriend/fiance is dead in a car crash two hours from then.
She was forced to look at the pathetic mortals life for much too long. Truly, how does one get so insecure?
That was the highlight of her wish granting, honestly. It stopped her from going thinking about the child.
She had to tell him. She knew that. But she didn’t know how to do that.
But she didn’t want to think about it! Why go around making it her problem if she didn’t need to?
And now, an apartment in the bad side of town, obviously not meeting any sort of housing standard. There was a girl on the phone, sobbing away.
An easy mark to camp out, as she kept an ear to the rest of the apartment.
She was left to stew, again.
He was a brat that was owed more than he’d ever been given, and who hated her for perfectly good (and irrefutable) reasons.
She had to do more, too. But she didn’t know what yet.
Most people slightly sucked. Human nature and all that. Being a brat was hardly uncommon.
She also shouldn’t care that much.
But she did.
“I just wish he c-could give a real… I just-! He could be better! W-why isn’t he better??” She wailed.
Easy mark.
She had to conclude that it was another sad mark as the scene unfolded in her head.
Anyone could be better, but often there was nothing of meaning to salvage.
She was the other woman, strung along as he played both- no, all four women like cheap instruments.
Ew.
Of course his main girlfriend was suspicious too, and just as much of a cunt as he was. If she found out it wouldn’t be his ass on the line, it'd be the women.
And maybe, just maybe, that hit her where it hurt as she closed the wish by making him have his come-to-Jesus moment and resolve to dump all four and pack himself off to another state.
That might be her problem over all; She cared about those in bad spots. Tight situations that weren’t their fault.
She could see why the man would be called charming, even, having flipped through the pages of memory to figure out why this wish would occur.
And no child picked their parents.
Maybe she knew someone she could set up to watch him. That might be a better option.
Eight, six, four, two, zero. Never safe. Barely loved. If anyone had an ax to grind, he’d be helpless and left to dry in the cold in an instant.
She had to tell him, at least. Lunch Lady had truce with him, right? A message could be passed.
She hoped it could be seen as genuine.
She knew it wouldn’t be, but she had to anyways.
Thinking about Danny wishing to go back to a time where he wasn't constantly in danger, and Desiree not being able to find a time in his life that can fit the bill so just,,, nothing happens.
#danny phantom#dp#fic#angst#tumblr only#(for now. Possibly not for future)#desiree the genie#does she... have a character tag actually?#like on ao3 it wouldn't be a question#but on tumblr I sorta worry about accidentally crossing wires with some other obscure fandom.#anyways merry early christmas OP here's your angst this took like two hours.#if Desiree is out of character from canon... get a warrant.
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