Hi, wondering if I could get some advice from you guys as I'm having a bit of a brain freeze with this. I replaced an old Twin with a Quad X late last year and am finding limitation with the I/O. I normally just record 1-2 channel (mono voice tracks mostly). I wish I had more OUTS as well as INs. Main reason for having more INs would just be to be able to keep a few different mics connected all the time rather than having to change out cables... I know I can go with an Octo-Pre via ADAT to expand INs...but AFAIK, it doesn't give me additional OUTs. Should have just gone with at least the Apollo x4. I do everything in the box now as far as preamp/processing, using a TB connection to a 2018 Mac mini. That said, I also have my old hardware chain which I still occasionally use but haven't integrated that with the Apollo. I keep it on a simple Apogee Duet 2 USB into the same Mac. I've been confounded by the UA "Console" software in that I have to change up the Core Audio Midi channel assignments to my DAW everytime I want to switch to that setup. I'm also kind of old school about wanting to record a real-time backup of sessions on a second Mac. The way I'm doing that now, whether from the Apogee or Apollo is...cabling a physical analog Line out (Line 3, for mono only) over to a second Mac, which requires going into an old Duet FW A/D converter. This is clunky and I hate the old breakout cables of these Duets so all in all trying to find a simpler cleaner solution to accommodate all of the above- essentially streamlining everything as much as possible. So, first off as for expansion, is there a better option than say, the Octo Pre that might offer any better flexibility in terms of adding more I/O there? Thanks for thoughts or questions on any of this: ) ! Much appreciated!

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“What?” came her whispered reply.
“Katira, I know way too much about all this for it to be a mere coincidence. Maybe that’s all clairsentience is. A reincarnated soul whose work wasn’t done, and they decided to come around again, only this time, with a little head-start. One of the two lives on in me, and I’d be willing to bet it was your former Master. Her partner died before you met her, and only you would know these things, correct?” Katira nodded her head, and I pressed on. “Okay. I’m also betting that this took place more than a hundred years ago, judging by the amount of earth and growth on this cairn, and due to the nature of societal acceptance of homosexuality. Them keeping their relationship a secret, way out here in the middle of nowhere, would be far easier than the two of them living together in a town. Am I right?” I asked
“Nearly one hundred fifty years, yes. As humans reckon these things, it was around 1875. Not long after your stupid civil war. My Master had lost her mother to typhoid, and her father to the war. She and her best friend decided to attempt to homestead not too far from here, and they eventually fell in love. They were only seventeen at the time, and most of the eligible young men in town had succumbed to the war or to injuries they sustained afterwards. My Master was a hardy, resilient woman. You would have liked her, Stu. She was built like me, and was bullheaded as a mule.” Katira laughed softly, wiping away tears. “Anyway, they built a cabin not terribly far from this spot, and lived for several years together, until the events you described. My Master was beside herself with grief, and nearly ended her time here on several occasions. Until one day, she chanced upon what looked like an old cellar out here in the fields.
“It was there that she found my little body and attempted to bury me. You should have seen her fright when, instead of a pile of bones that fell apart, she had a skeletal kitten bounding around her ankles. We bonded in a similar manner to Joaquin and Shutan. She fell onto the cellar, cut her arm, and the blood dripped onto me. She went on to become an amazing Necromancer in her own right. You two share the same essence type, as well. Huh. I wonder why I never made the connection before,” she concluded softly.
I walked over and wiped the tears from her soft, shimmery face. “Why would you even think to do so? You’ve dealt with all but the most rare of essences, right?” I asked, receiving a nod in turn. “There’s no shame in not recognizing an extremely old pattern. Especially when there’s no real reason to suspect anything. You had already explained away my knowledge, and that should’ve been the end of it.
“Let’s get the last of the reagents and head back. Now that we know where this is, we can come and pay our respects after my Growth. Any time you’re up for it. In the meantime, we say nothing and hint at nothing. My description of their last days could be chalked up to a lucky guess. A very lucky guess, but a guess nonetheless. Unless and until we have some concrete proof, we keep this to ourselves. Not a word even to the guild. Sound good to you?” I asked.
Katira nodded, and I turned and knelt by the old grave. I laid a hand on the topmost stone, and whispered “Not even the stars.” I took a small bouquet of the tiny blue flowers and stood, seeing a weeping dragoness behind me.
“It is you, Bethany. You’re in there, and I know it. I look different, but I’m still the same Katira. I still love you,” she said, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m sorry, what? Bethany? Is that your former Master’s name? What are you talking about?” I asked, concerned.
“What you said when you laid your hand on the grave. Do you recall?”
I nodded, “Yeah. I said ‘Not even the stars’. It just felt right. I dunno why,” I replied.
“That’s what Bethany used to tell her partner, Rose. ‘Not even the stars could shine as brightly as her eyes’, is what she told me. You hold her soul within you. It explains everything to me. Your apparent skill, your oddly specific knowledge, and your way with people. It doesn’t explain your intuition, but that could just be an amalgam of your spirits and your broad intellect. She always lamented her inability to be more creative,” she explained, taking my hand in hers.
“Well. That’s a thing, then. I’m still me, Katira. Even if I have Bethany’s soul, you’re still dealing with Stu. Remember that, please,” I told her.
“Absolutely, Master. This just brings new possibilities to light, is all,” Katira said, sniffling. “My Master, Bethany is gone. I know this. However, knowing that some part of her lives on is a great comfort. That’s all,” she said softly. Katira stepped forward and took my hands in hers. “I know you’re Stu. I know you’re my Master. I can’t forget it. You gave me this form, and I cherish it. Just like I cherish you. You’re going to be my final Master, and I can’t wait to spend an eternity with you,” she said, giving my hands a gentle squeeze.
“Alright, then. As long as we are clear. Are you ready to head back?” I asked gently.
Katira nodded, and we started back off towards the cave. It took us another three hours, but we made it back. The others had been there for a few hours by the time we returned. All three had begun the distillation process by the time we arrived, and had placed their squirrels in the appropriate locations.
“Excellent job, Initiates! I’m glad to see you have taken the initiative to begin your reanimations. Now, it isn’t a guarantee that you will be successful. Be prepared for a messy failure, otherwise. Upon a success, even a minor one, your squirrel will sit up and make vocalizations at you. In the event of a minor success, this is all that will happen. If it is anything more, you can give it a command. It might understand it and act. Just make sure it is a simple one. You can command it to simply die, if you wish. It is up to you. Now, who got here first?” she asked.
“I did, Instructor,” Robert said.
“Excellent. Good job, Initiate Grimes. How long after you got set up did the next one arrive?”
“About an hour, I think and Joaquin was a few minutes after her. That was three hours ago. I think mine is nearly done,” Robert explained.
“Good. While Initiate Merideth gets set up, we will discuss what comes after a successful reanimation,” Katira began.
I turned and began the process of removing the petals from the phlox, depositing them in the pot. I mostly tuned out the discussion they were having, my mind reeling from the events of the day.
If I didn’t hold a reincarnated soul, how else would I be able to do what I do without even thinking about it? How else would I know the stuff I know without having had the instruction? How did I know who was buried beneath that cairn of stones, and how she died? Was it even my soul that was reincarnated? Or, had Bethany’s spirit hung around waiting to impart knowledge upon one lonely Necromancer?
These questions and more rolled around my head, my body moving on autopilot. I was just about to reach into the bag containing the nettles when Katira grabbed my wrist, jerking me from my reverie.
“Initiate!”
“Huh? Wha?”
“Initiate, I’ve been trying to get your attention for a bit. You almost reached into the bag that has the nettles bare-handed. What’s gotten into you?” she asked, her concern evident.
I simply looked into her eyes, my own face a blank mask, and she sighed softly. “Okay. I understand. It’s about what we talked about before, isn’t it?” she asked softly. I nodded slowly. “I take it you’ve never handled nettles, have you?” I shook my head. “Let me show you. In fact, gather around, everyone. Nettles are a painful plant, and you may have to handle them at some point. Let me show you how to deal with them,” Katira announced.
The rest of the group came over and sat while Katira taught us how to handle the irritating plant. Once she demonstrated the process, I tried it once, and even though I’d succeeded, I figured I’d not like to attempt it again. Instead, I took my multitool and pocket knife, clamped onto the stem, and sliced the leaves into the pot. Then, for good measure, I sectioned up the stem and dropped it in, as well. In went the snake skin, water and three drops of my blood. I set the fire, and waited for something to happen.
As luck would have it something did happen. We all heard Robert’s fire go out with a pop, and turned to see the droplet of essence-infused oil spill onto the squirrel. As with our message stones, nothing was spilled, it all just absorbed into the squirrel, and we watched with bated breath.
At first, nothing happened. The squirrel sat motionless on the cold stone slab. After a few moments, however, we all saw the digits on the left forelimb twitch. Collectively, we moved back, as a crazed squirrel was as fearsome as it was small. It took a breath, then a second. Slowly, it sat up, turned its black, unblinking eyes towards Robert and began chittering.
“Try it, Initiate Grimes,” Katira whispered.
Robert cleared his throat and swallowed. “Go outside the cave, and dig a hole big enough for you to lie in beside the first tree you see,” he commanded.
We watched as the squirrel cocked its head to the side and hopped down. It bounded drunkenly out of the cave, and after a short search, began to dig a hole.
“Excellent job, Initiate. Why did you tell it to do that?” Katira asked.
“I felt terrible for it. I think it should be put to rest,” he said quietly.
“So it is digging its own grave? Interesting. Go and tend to it. It may not be able to finish,” Katira replied.
Robert got up and went outside to tend to his squirrel, and the rest of us sat back and chatted for a bit.
“Senpai? What took you so long to find your reagents?” Morita-san asked.
“Well, as our Instructor specified this morning, I require very specific reagents to even have a chance at making this work, and they weren’t easy to find. I had to have phlox, nettles and a shed skin. Phlox were those tiny blue flowers, and they weren’t easy to find. Especially as I had no idea what they looked like until I opened my Grimoire. I knew what nettles looked like, and everyone from around here knows what a shed skin looks like, I think. They just weren’t easy to get. However, after I found the nettles, the other two just kinda happened. The snake skin was tangled around some weeds in a field, and the phlox were growing by an outcropping of stone. We had to go something like five miles from the cave. Speaking of which, I’m gonna need to eat something soon. I just had a small snack around noon or so,” I explained.
“By the time your still finishes, it will be time for dinner, anyway. I’d suggest holding off, if you can,” Katira said.
“I’ll try, but if I start getting the sugar shakes or acting belligerent, I’ll need a small snack again. We really don’t want that,” I said.
Robert came back, looking somber and somewhat sad. “It’s done. I…I told it to die, and it closed its eyes and just stopped moving. It seemed happy,” he said, taking a seat.
“Initiate Grimes, I want you to understand that all you did was reanimate the body of a squirrel. It had no soul, and therefore wasn’t the same creature I killed three days ago. It was more or less a biological machine that used the energy of the reagents you selected and your essence as fuel. It would have eventually stopped moving on its own. You could re energize it with your essence, but that would serve to bond it tighter to you, which is not a situation we want here. You have done well thus far, and I’m proud of you. We all are,” she told the younger man.
“She is right, Master. You have grown in skill, and as a person. Rather quickly, I might add. As such, I would say that your own Growth is no more than a month away. Once we get home, you should alert your job to your upcoming illness,” Yin grumbled.
“I can’t do that, bud. I can’t plan to be sick. Instructor? Do the symptoms all come on at once, or are they in stages?” Robert asked.
“You will most likely get the headaches first. If you can function through them, I would call your job at that point, and tell them that you are sick, and it is unknown as to how long it will last. Hopefully, you will be able to maintain your job after you are done Growing,” Katira replied.
“I can form human arms and hands for the time it takes to send a message on your phone, Master. I could also call for any number of other familiars and Necromancers to help, should you need it,” Yin said reassuringly.
Robert seemed satisfied with this answer, and began to clean his equipment. He had just finished when, with twin pops, we heard both Joaquin and Morita-san’s fires go out. All heads turned to watch the reaction complete.
Both squirrels were doused with the oil/essence mixture, and we watched as it was absorbed into the bodies of the squirrels.
Both squirrels twitched and sat up, turning their heads towards their creators and began chittering.
Morita-san nodded at Joaquin, and he cleared his throat. “Venha aqui, esquilo,” he said.
The squirrel shakily stood and took two steps before collapsing. We all watched in horror as it continued to crawl forward, leaving its back half behind. Joaquin began to panic and scooted back.
“Release it, Initiate Madras!”
“Morra, esquilo! Morra!” the young man cried out. The squirrel shuddered and heaved out its remaining breath, one clawed paw outstretched towards Joaquin. As it did, the rest of its entrails oozed out from its body, coupled with a brown slime.
“I will explain in a moment, Initiate Madras. Initiate Morita-san, it is your turn,” Katira said.
Morita-san swallowed, staring at the halves of the squirrel on the cavern floor. “私に近づいて、リス。” she said, her eyes never leaving the squirrel.
Her squirrel never moved. It sat there, blinking. “Instructor? What do I do? It’s not moving. Just….blinking,” Morita-san said quietly.
“Try rewording what you just said.”
“ここに来て、リス。” Morita-san said. The squirrel bounded over to her, and began to inspect her shoes.
“Excellent job, Morita-san. It seems that your reagents harmonized rather well with both you and your subject. This is why it is acting more like a normal, living creature and not the automaton Initiate Grimes produced. There is nothing wrong with your results, Initiate Grimes. You’ll just need to try a different combination of reagents, is all. Initiate Morita-san happened to chance upon the right triad for her for this experiment.
“The squirrel is yours to do with as you wish, Initiate Morita-san. Congratulations to the three of you. You have successfully reanimated your squirrels,” Katira said happily.
The others smiled and seemed happy. Morita-san looked at her squirrel and cocked her head to the side. “Should I name him?” she asked aloud.
“There is nothing prohibiting that, Initiate.”
“I shall call you Daisuke,” she said to the squirrel. “この死んだリスを片付けて、ダイスケ。” she commanded, and the squirrel bounded over to Joaquin’s partial reanimation, and began to cart the remains outside.
“Now, as for your squirrel, Initiate Madras. It was apparently infected by a parasite which had been eating it from the inside. Some sort of intestinal worm, I would say. When you reanimated it, the parasite was immediately destroyed, and likely aided the decomposition. There is no shame in this, and none of us could have known it was there. It is the risk we take when we choose a creature for reanimation.
“This is why a skeleton was chosen for reanimation more often than not in the past. There was no risk of parasitic infection, little risk of a messy failure, and in the event the energies used ran out, it would simply fall to the ground in a pile, ready to be used again. However, one needs a distinct grasp of anatomy for it, because in the event you put it together wrong, it won’t move correctly,” Katira said.
“So, wait. We could potentially Frankenstein ourselves a servant together?” Robert asked.
“Where do you think Mary Shelley got the idea, Initiate Grimes?” Katira returned with an enigmatic smile.
Robert sat there, his mouth agape.
“Close your mouth, Initiate. You might catch a fly, otherwise.”
We all laughed as Robert closed his mouth with a click. He shook his head and sat beside his cubbyhole in thought. Morita-san and Joaquin were talking animatedly in their respective languages, aided by their familiars.
I sat beside my equipment, watching the oil collect in the reservoir. It looked a little different than the others’ did.
“Instructor?” I asked, waving her over.
“Yes?”
“My essence-infused oil looks different to theirs. Theirs was green, and mine is…well, it’s kind of an orangey-pink. Is something wrong?” I asked with concern.
“Hmm. I’m not sure. I’ve never seen a reanimation essence appear this color. Yin? Shutan? Oiwa? Would you three come here, please?” she called out.
The three familiars approached my station curiously. Katira turned to them, gesturing at my equipment. “Have any of you ever seen this color in a reanimation essence before?” she asked.
“Exactly once,” Shutan said, stroking his bony jaw. “Stu? Yours is a Multiplying essence, correct?” he asked, receiving a nod. “Then, I will reveal nothing, save this: This will be interesting.” He walked away, shaking his head, and I could swear I saw a smirk on his skeletal countenance.
“What? Interesting? I’m not sure I like interesting. Wait a minute! What do you mean, interesting?” I called after him, receiving no inkling of acknowledgement.
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“What?” came her whispered reply.
“Katira, I know way too much about all this for it to be a mere coincidence. Maybe that’s all clairsentience is. A reincarnated soul whose work wasn’t done, and they decided to come around again, only this time, with a little head-start. One of the two lives on in me, and I’d be willing to bet it was your former Master. Her partner died before you met her, and only you would know these things, correct?” Katira nodded her head, and I pressed on. “Okay. I’m also betting that this took place more than a hundred years ago, judging by the amount of earth and growth on this cairn, and due to the nature of societal acceptance of homosexuality. Them keeping their relationship a secret, way out here in the middle of nowhere, would be far easier than the two of them living together in a town. Am I right?” I asked
“Nearly one hundred fifty years, yes. As humans reckon these things, it was around 1875. Not long after your stupid civil war. My Master had lost her mother to typhoid, and her father to the war. She and her best friend decided to attempt to homestead not too far from here, and they eventually fell in love. They were only seventeen at the time, and most of the eligible young men in town had succumbed to the war or to injuries they sustained afterwards. My Master was a hardy, resilient woman. You would have liked her, Stu. She was built like me, and was bullheaded as a mule.” Katira laughed softly, wiping away tears. “Anyway, they built a cabin not terribly far from this spot, and lived for several years together, until the events you described. My Master was beside herself with grief, and nearly ended her time here on several occasions. Until one day, she chanced upon what looked like an old cellar out here in the fields.
“It was there that she found my little body and attempted to bury me. You should have seen her fright when, instead of a pile of bones that fell apart, she had a skeletal kitten bounding around her ankles. We bonded in a similar manner to Joaquin and Shutan. She fell onto the cellar, cut her arm, and the blood dripped onto me. She went on to become an amazing Necromancer in her own right. You two share the same essence type, as well. Huh. I wonder why I never made the connection before,” she concluded softly.
I walked over and wiped the tears from her soft, shimmery face. “Why would you even think to do so? You’ve dealt with all but the most rare of essences, right?” I asked, receiving a nod in turn. “There’s no shame in not recognizing an extremely old pattern. Especially when there’s no real reason to suspect anything. You had already explained away my knowledge, and that should’ve been the end of it.
“Let’s get the last of the reagents and head back. Now that we know where this is, we can come and pay our respects after my Growth. Any time you’re up for it. In the meantime, we say nothing and hint at nothing. My description of their last days could be chalked up to a lucky guess. A very lucky guess, but a guess nonetheless. Unless and until we have some concrete proof, we keep this to ourselves. Not a word even to the guild. Sound good to you?” I asked.
Katira nodded, and I turned and knelt by the old grave. I laid a hand on the topmost stone, and whispered “Not even the stars.” I took a small bouquet of the tiny blue flowers and stood, seeing a weeping dragoness behind me.
“It is you, Bethany. You’re in there, and I know it. I look different, but I’m still the same Katira. I still love you,” she said, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m sorry, what? Bethany? Is that your former Master’s name? What are you talking about?” I asked, concerned.
“What you said when you laid your hand on the grave. Do you recall?”
I nodded, “Yeah. I said ‘Not even the stars’. It just felt right. I dunno why,” I replied.
“That’s what Bethany used to tell her partner, Rose. ‘Not even the stars could shine as brightly as her eyes’, is what she told me. You hold her soul within you. It explains everything to me. Your apparent skill, your oddly specific knowledge, and your way with people. It doesn’t explain your intuition, but that could just be an amalgam of your spirits and your broad intellect. She always lamented her inability to be more creative,” she explained, taking my hand in hers.
“Well. That’s a thing, then. I’m still me, Katira. Even if I have Bethany’s soul, you’re still dealing with Stu. Remember that, please,” I told her.
“Absolutely, Master. This just brings new possibilities to light, is all,” Katira said, sniffling. “My Master, Bethany is gone. I know this. However, knowing that some part of her lives on is a great comfort. That’s all,” she said softly. Katira stepped forward and took my hands in hers. “I know you’re Stu. I know you’re my Master. I can’t forget it. You gave me this form, and I cherish it. Just like I cherish you. You’re going to be my final Master, and I can’t wait to spend an eternity with you,” she said, giving my hands a gentle squeeze.
“Alright, then. As long as we are clear. Are you ready to head back?” I asked gently.
Katira nodded, and we started back off towards the cave. It took us another three hours, but we made it back. The others had been there for a few hours by the time we returned. All three had begun the distillation process by the time we arrived, and had placed their squirrels in the appropriate locations.
“Excellent job, Initiates! I’m glad to see you have taken the initiative to begin your reanimations. Now, it isn’t a guarantee that you will be successful. Be prepared for a messy failure, otherwise. Upon a success, even a minor one, your squirrel will sit up and make vocalizations at you. In the event of a minor success, this is all that will happen. If it is anything more, you can give it a command. It might understand it and act. Just make sure it is a simple one. You can command it to simply die, if you wish. It is up to you. Now, who got here first?” she asked.
“I did, Instructor,” Robert said.
“Excellent. Good job, Initiate Grimes. How long after you got set up did the next one arrive?”
“About an hour, I think and Joaquin was a few minutes after her. That was three hours ago. I think mine is nearly done,” Robert explained.
“Good. While Initiate Merideth gets set up, we will discuss what comes after a successful reanimation,” Katira began.
I turned and began the process of removing the petals from the phlox, depositing them in the pot. I mostly tuned out the discussion they were having, my mind reeling from the events of the day.
If I didn’t hold a reincarnated soul, how else would I be able to do what I do without even thinking about it? How else would I know the stuff I know without having had the instruction? How did I know who was buried beneath that cairn of stones, and how she died? Was it even my soul that was reincarnated? Or, had Bethany’s spirit hung around waiting to impart knowledge upon one lonely Necromancer?
These questions and more rolled around my head, my body moving on autopilot. I was just about to reach into the bag containing the nettles when Katira grabbed my wrist, jerking me from my reverie.
“Initiate!”
“Huh? Wha?”
“Initiate, I’ve been trying to get your attention for a bit. You almost reached into the bag that has the nettles bare-handed. What’s gotten into you?” she asked, her concern evident.
I simply looked into her eyes, my own face a blank mask, and she sighed softly. “Okay. I understand. It’s about what we talked about before, isn’t it?” she asked softly. I nodded slowly. “I take it you’ve never handled nettles, have you?” I shook my head. “Let me show you. In fact, gather around, everyone. Nettles are a painful plant, and you may have to handle them at some point. Let me show you how to deal with them,” Katira announced.
The rest of the group came over and sat while Katira taught us how to handle the irritating plant. Once she demonstrated the process, I tried it once, and even though I’d succeeded, I figured I’d not like to attempt it again. Instead, I took my multitool and pocket knife, clamped onto the stem, and sliced the leaves into the pot. Then, for good measure, I sectioned up the stem and dropped it in, as well. In went the snake skin, water and three drops of my blood. I set the fire, and waited for something to happen.
As luck would have it something did happen. We all heard Robert’s fire go out with a pop, and turned to see the droplet of essence-infused oil spill onto the squirrel. As with our message stones, nothing was spilled, it all just absorbed into the squirrel, and we watched with bated breath.
At first, nothing happened. The squirrel sat motionless on the cold stone slab. After a few moments, however, we all saw the digits on the left forelimb twitch. Collectively, we moved back, as a crazed squirrel was as fearsome as it was small. It took a breath, then a second. Slowly, it sat up, turned its black, unblinking eyes towards Robert and began chittering.
“Try it, Initiate Grimes,” Katira whispered.
Robert cleared his throat and swallowed. “Go outside the cave, and dig a hole big enough for you to lie in beside the first tree you see,” he commanded.
We watched as the squirrel cocked its head to the side and hopped down. It bounded drunkenly out of the cave, and after a short search, began to dig a hole.
“Excellent job, Initiate. Why did you tell it to do that?” Katira asked.
“I felt terrible for it. I think it should be put to rest,” he said quietly.
“So it is digging its own grave? Interesting. Go and tend to it. It may not be able to finish,” Katira replied.
Robert got up and went outside to tend to his squirrel, and the rest of us sat back and chatted for a bit.
“Senpai? What took you so long to find your reagents?” Morita-san asked.
“Well, as our Instructor specified this morning, I require very specific reagents to even have a chance at making this work, and they weren’t easy to find. I had to have phlox, nettles and a shed skin. Phlox were those tiny blue flowers, and they weren’t easy to find. Especially as I had no idea what they looked like until I opened my Grimoire. I knew what nettles looked like, and everyone from around here knows what a shed skin looks like, I think. They just weren’t easy to get. However, after I found the nettles, the other two just kinda happened. The snake skin was tangled around some weeds in a field, and the phlox were growing by an outcropping of stone. We had to go something like five miles from the cave. Speaking of which, I’m gonna need to eat something soon. I just had a small snack around noon or so,” I explained.
“By the time your still finishes, it will be time for dinner, anyway. I’d suggest holding off, if you can,” Katira said.
“I’ll try, but if I start getting the sugar shakes or acting belligerent, I’ll need a small snack again. We really don’t want that,” I said.
Robert came back, looking somber and somewhat sad. “It’s done. I…I told it to die, and it closed its eyes and just stopped moving. It seemed happy,” he said, taking a seat.
“Initiate Grimes, I want you to understand that all you did was reanimate the body of a squirrel. It had no soul, and therefore wasn’t the same creature I killed three days ago. It was more or less a biological machine that used the energy of the reagents you selected and your essence as fuel. It would have eventually stopped moving on its own. You could re energize it with your essence, but that would serve to bond it tighter to you, which is not a situation we want here. You have done well thus far, and I’m proud of you. We all are,” she told the younger man.
“She is right, Master. You have grown in skill, and as a person. Rather quickly, I might add. As such, I would say that your own Growth is no more than a month away. Once we get home, you should alert your job to your upcoming illness,” Yin grumbled.
“I can’t do that, bud. I can’t plan to be sick. Instructor? Do the symptoms all come on at once, or are they in stages?” Robert asked.
“You will most likely get the headaches first. If you can function through them, I would call your job at that point, and tell them that you are sick, and it is unknown as to how long it will last. Hopefully, you will be able to maintain your job after you are done Growing,” Katira replied.
“I can form human arms and hands for the time it takes to send a message on your phone, Master. I could also call for any number of other familiars and Necromancers to help, should you need it,” Yin said reassuringly.
Robert seemed satisfied with this answer, and began to clean his equipment. He had just finished when, with twin pops, we heard both Joaquin and Morita-san’s fires go out. All heads turned to watch the reaction complete.
Both squirrels were doused with the oil/essence mixture, and we watched as it was absorbed into the bodies of the squirrels.
Both squirrels twitched and sat up, turning their heads towards their creators and began chittering.
Morita-san nodded at Joaquin, and he cleared his throat. “Venha aqui, esquilo,” he said.
The squirrel shakily stood and took two steps before collapsing. We all watched in horror as it continued to crawl forward, leaving its back half behind. Joaquin began to panic and scooted back.
“Release it, Initiate Madras!”
“Morra, esquilo! Morra!” the young man cried out. The squirrel shuddered and heaved out its remaining breath, one clawed paw outstretched towards Joaquin. As it did, the rest of its entrails oozed out from its body, coupled with a brown slime.
“I will explain in a moment, Initiate Madras. Initiate Morita-san, it is your turn,” Katira said.
Morita-san swallowed, staring at the halves of the squirrel on the cavern floor. “私に近づいて、リス。” she said, her eyes never leaving the squirrel.
Her squirrel never moved. It sat there, blinking. “Instructor? What do I do? It’s not moving. Just….blinking,” Morita-san said quietly.
“Try rewording what you just said.”
“ここに来て、リス。” Morita-san said. The squirrel bounded over to her, and began to inspect her shoes.
“Excellent job, Morita-san. It seems that your reagents harmonized rather well with both you and your subject. This is why it is acting more like a normal, living creature and not the automaton Initiate Grimes produced. There is nothing wrong with your results, Initiate Grimes. You’ll just need to try a different combination of reagents, is all. Initiate Morita-san happened to chance upon the right triad for her for this experiment.
“The squirrel is yours to do with as you wish, Initiate Morita-san. Congratulations to the three of you. You have successfully reanimated your squirrels,” Katira said happily.
The others smiled and seemed happy. Morita-san looked at her squirrel and cocked her head to the side. “Should I name him?” she asked aloud.
“There is nothing prohibiting that, Initiate.”
“I shall call you Daisuke,” she said to the squirrel. “この死んだリスを片付けて、ダイスケ。” she commanded, and the squirrel bounded over to Joaquin’s partial reanimation, and began to cart the remains outside.
“Now, as for your squirrel, Initiate Madras. It was apparently infected by a parasite which had been eating it from the inside. Some sort of intestinal worm, I would say. When you reanimated it, the parasite was immediately destroyed, and likely aided the decomposition. There is no shame in this, and none of us could have known it was there. It is the risk we take when we choose a creature for reanimation.
“This is why a skeleton was chosen for reanimation more often than not in the past. There was no risk of parasitic infection, little risk of a messy failure, and in the event the energies used ran out, it would simply fall to the ground in a pile, ready to be used again. However, one needs a distinct grasp of anatomy for it, because in the event you put it together wrong, it won’t move correctly,” Katira said.
“So, wait. We could potentially Frankenstein ourselves a servant together?” Robert asked.
“Where do you think Mary Shelley got the idea, Initiate Grimes?” Katira returned with an enigmatic smile.
Robert sat there, his mouth agape.
“Close your mouth, Initiate. You might catch a fly, otherwise.”
We all laughed as Robert closed his mouth with a click. He shook his head and sat beside his cubbyhole in thought. Morita-san and Joaquin were talking animatedly in their respective languages, aided by their familiars.
I sat beside my equipment, watching the oil collect in the reservoir. It looked a little different than the others’ did.
“Instructor?” I asked, waving her over.
“Yes?”
“My essence-infused oil looks different to theirs. Theirs was green, and mine is…well, it’s kind of an orangey-pink. Is something wrong?” I asked with concern.
“Hmm. I’m not sure. I’ve never seen a reanimation essence appear this color. Yin? Shutan? Oiwa? Would you three come here, please?” she called out.
The three familiars approached my station curiously. Katira turned to them, gesturing at my equipment. “Have any of you ever seen this color in a reanimation essence before?” she asked.
“Exactly once,” Shutan said, stroking his bony jaw. “Stu? Yours is a Multiplying essence, correct?” he asked, receiving a nod. “Then, I will reveal nothing, save this: This will be interesting.” He walked away, shaking his head, and I could swear I saw a smirk on his skeletal countenance.
“What? Interesting? I’m not sure I like interesting. Wait a minute! What do you mean, interesting?” I called after him, receiving no inkling of acknowledgement.

Some interesting takeaways from the Reddit AMA so far (will be updating as more gets answered):

• Twins Rework planned for around approximately early 2024
• More game modes planned for the future. More updates on this possibly later in the year.
• Freddy is on the radar for an update
• Non-humanoid/Monstrous killers are now a possibility for the future, now that the team has grown
• Offerings are being looked at in general (including looking at new effects for offerings) but no extra details as of right now
• Mobile cosmetics will start being ported over. Some mobile cosmetics will never be ported over though.
• More survivor emotes were considered, but ended up not being implemented. No plans in the near future for emotes.
• Killers take about 11-12 months to design from start to finish. Maps take 6 months.
• The topic of more setting options in Custom Matches is on the radar, but still too early for an ETA
• They are revisiting all maps to reduce clutter on them. This involves Toba Landing for next week's release. Some more specific ones announced are Mother's Dwelling and Temple of Purgation.
• They still want to improve Pyramid Head. The suggestions for addon reworks are being noted.
• No updates on Cross Progression, they know it something desired by the community but they cannot say when/if it will be implemented.
• They are reconsidering showing survivor Prestige Levels before a match because of killer harrassment.
• A small but fun Trapper update will come along with the new Naughty Bear Skin. Other than that, no other significant changes for him planned.
• New survivor items are being talked about/planned.
• An update for the Hillbilly is coming within the next year.
• Updating terror radius/music for liscened killers is a possiblity, but you have to remember liscensed killers have their limitations.
• There's an update for Killer FOV sliders coming within the next year or early next year.
• They are looking to improve the daily rituals.
• They are NOT making Unbreakable base kit. There is still discussion on the Finisher Mori though.
• They hear the community feedback on the Skull Merchant. She will be getting an update.
• After the map reworks and updates, they plan on adding in the Bloodwillow Tree and village into DBD. Swamp is getting some updates to it too.

​
These is just a summary of all the news I thought noteworthy, for other interesting tidbits on other things like design philosophy and whatnot you can find on the AMA.

After retrieving Maga-Z from Kokichi's desk drawer, Kokichi and Himiko snuck over to Miu and Kaede's room. The door was slightly ajar, so they could peek in and see who was inside. Kaede wasn't there, but Miu was. She was on her bed, talking on the phone.
​
"So, what'cha doin' tonight?" they heard her say in a seductive voice. "Workin' on a car, huh? How about you work on me for a little while, hmmm? Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you? I know you would." Kokichi and Himiko looked at each other, sticking their tongues out in disgust. They figured she was talking to Kazuichi, her boyfriend that they paired Miu up with. "The twins? Oh, they're doin' alright," Miu said, squeezing her chest. "They're just as...big, and juicy, and bouncy as ever! Hmhmhm!" Kokichi and Himiko rolled their eyes and facepalmed. "I'll see ya tonight," Miu continued. "Can't wa-aaiiit! Byyyeee." She hung up the phone and squealed giddily. She sighed happily as she stood up and walked towards her door. Kokichi and Himiko quickly hid behind the wall and watched her exit her room and bounce away downstairs.
​
"Wh-What do you think they're going to do tonight?" Himiko asked.
​
"If we're lucky, kill each other," Kokichi muttered. "Let's go, HimiCocoa Bean! We've got work to do!" He took Himiko's hand in his and led her to Miu's closet, where the elevator to her lab was located. Kokichi flipped the light switch in the closet, which activated the elevator. They descended down and down until they reached Miu's lab. It was filled to the brim with Miu's inventions, both big and small.
​
"There's so much stuff down here," Himiko said. "Where do we start?"

"Well, we definitely need something with high electrical power," Kokichi said. "Something we can use as a defibrillator."
​
"A what?" Himiko asked.
​
"A defibrillator is a device that shoots electrical pulses to the heart to make it start up again," Kokichi explained.
​
"Ohhh...I understand," Himiko replied. "Well...I don't see anything like that, but maybe those can help us feel more like scientists." Himiko pointed over to some lab coats. Kokichi grinned impishly.
​
"Nee-heehee...mad scientists, to be more exact!" he said. Together, he and Himiko rushed over to the lab coats and put them on. They also put on some gloves, goggles, and lab boots. "Much better!" Kokichi said. He turned to give Himiko a high five. "Let's get to work, Monkey Buns!"
​
"Nyeh...you got it, Panta Bear!" Himiko replied. They went off in search to find some type of defibrillator that would help bring Maga-Z back to life.
​
"Heeey! Maybe that could work!" Kokichi said, pointing to a metal bed with straps on it. "That's the type of bed that Frankenstein's monster lies down on when Doctor Frankenstein revived him, remember?"
​
"Yeah!" Himiko said. "But...where's all the electrical stuff? Aren't there supposed to be, like...cable wires, or something?" Kokichi looked around him. He noticed that beneath the bed was a circular platform that seemed to detach from the rest of the floor.

"Maybe it has something to do with this?" Kokichi asked, tapping on the platform with his foot. He looked up and noticed a green button. "I bet that lifts the platform!"
​
"Why would it do that?" Himiko asked. "And where are we even going to find a defib...u...lator, or whatever?" Kokichi was about to shrug, when he suddenly heard a faint rumbling outside. A devious smile spread across his face.
​
"I think I may have the answer to both your questions, Himiko," he said before rushing over to the green button and pressing it. As he suspected, the platform began lifting up off the ground. It ascended through a circular passageway all the way up to a drafty, dimly-lit room filled with more mechanical devices filled with various buttons and switches, and strange narrow and bubble-shaped tubes that seemed to twist and turn in every direction. A lever labeled "rooftop" stood right next to them.
​
"What is this place?" Himiko asked.
​
"It's probably the attic," Kokichi replied, looking around the large room.
​
"Okay, so the platform takes us up here, but...how are we gonna fire up all these electrical devices?" Himiko wondered. The rumbling sound above them grew even louder. Kokichi smiled at her as he reached for the rooftop lever and pulled it. The roof above them slid open to reveal dark clouds looming over them. They felt the wind pick up and rush wildly through their hair. They could see the clouds sparkle as lightning flickered across them like a switch.
​
"That's how!" Kokichi answered as another rumble of thunder bellowed above them. He then pointed at a lightning rod on the side of the roof. "See that lightning rod? The lightning will hit it, send the electricity through that cable, and fire up all these devices! Then, after we connect these other electrical cables with the devices and to Maga-Z, we should be able to revive him by turning on the defibrillator power switch!" Himiko felt a rush of excitement course through her veins.
​
"Nyeh...you think it might work?!" she asked. Kokichi gave her a mischievous smile.
​
"Only one way to find out," he said. Immediately, Kokichi and Himiko got to work by hooking up the electrical cables to Maga-Z and the devices. The lightning struck the lightning rod and sent volts of electricity flowing through the cable that attached the rod to the electrical devices, causing the room to come to life with mechanical whirring and lights.
​
"It's working!! It's working!!" Kokichi shouted with glee like a mad scientist as wind rushed through his hair and the storm grew more intense. "We need more lightning!! More!! MORE!!! MWA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!" More lightning struck the rod, which gave the electrical devices so much power the lights from the machines flickered as they grew brighter. "YEEESSSSS!!! YEEESSSS!!!" Kokichi shouted. He turned to Himiko. "Now, Himiko...THROW THE SWITCH!!!"
​
"Yeessss, maaaasteeerrr," Himiko replied in an Igor-like voice. She turned the defibrillator power switch on, which sent large amounts of voltage coursing through the electrical cables to Maga-Z's body. Maga-Z's body contorted, twisting every which way. His body was twitching and writhing violently as the electricity coursed through his dead body.
​
"Liiiiive...LIIIIIIIIVE!!! YOU MUST LIIIIIIIVE!!!" Kokichi screamed at Maga-Z. The power of the electricity was so intense that the electrical cables attached to Maga-Z's body flew off. "Himiko...relinquish the switch!" Kokichi ordered dramatically.
​
"Yeeeessss, maaaasteeeerrrr," Himiko said with a bow and turned off the defibrillator power switch. As she did, the storm above subsided, with only a gentle breeze now blowing with the occasional rumble of thunder in the dark clouds above. Kokichi and Himiko lifted their goggles to see the results. Maga-Z laid there, still and silent. They waited for a few more seconds, waiting for the little hamster to awaken, but he remained unresponsive. They slumped their shoulders with disappointment.
​
"Nyeh...maybe it didn't work,' Himiko whispered softly.
​
"Crap," Kokichi muttered. They were about to call it quits, when suddenly, they heard tiny squeaking. Their eyes flickered with excitement as they saw Maga-Z spring back to life and rub his face with his tiny paws.
​
"MWA-HAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! IT'S ALIVE!!!" Kokichi laughed maniacally. "IT'S ALIIIIIVE!!!"

Ember played with the boys on the floor, their hands reaching for him. Pouring over the files of the latest security breach on our magical borders, my eyes fell on Alex playing with his new friends outside. Waving at me, Jack embraced me from behind. Kissing the top of my head, it felt as if something big was going to happen today. A tender blush rose to my cheeks, my hand cupping his face.
“We need to raid an outpost today. Hopefully we can get information on the main headquarters.” He informed me warmly, biting my neck. Drinking his fill, my crippling anxiety stole any joy it normally would have given me. Missions like these frightened me, every cell in me wanted to turn into a raven and fly away for the day. Finishing up his breakfast, he set down an armored filled dress with leggings. Salford whispered something in his ear, sliding him a pair of car keys. Rising to my feet, I took my new outfit to our bedroom. Changing quickly, the dress felt heavy on my frame, the leggings seemed to be lined with chain mail. Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I ran into Jack on the way out. Embracing me lovingly, the keys dangled off of his fingers. Feeling his simple black suit, a light armor lined it. Chewing on my lips, our friends waited for us in matching black armor.
“We are ready to go.” Raven announced proudly, my eyes falling on Salford. “Salford said that he was going to watch the boys.” Adjusting their backpacks, weapons clanged in their bags. Guilt gnawed at me, the concept of putting them in danger sickening. My lips parted in protest, Raven raising her finger.
“We are coming. Those bastards killed my family and they are going to pay.” She asserted firmly, pulling her hair into a ponytail. “Besides, I want to back my friend up.” A deep sadness haunted her eyes, my hands cupping hers. A gentle but broken smile dimmed her features, silent tears staining her cheeks.
“I appreciate it and I apologize for not being there to stop it. I ruined everyone’s life by not being there.” I choked out shamefully, bowing my head. “I failed you and everyone else. I will make it up to you guys, I fucking promise you that.” Grabbing my shoulder, her other hand lifted up my chin.
“You were busy doing your own shit. I heard you showed up, girl!” She chatted pleasantly, my shaking fingers wiping away her tears. “You have a place where humans and monsters get along with ease. Have you been sleeping? You look like hell.” A deadpan expression appeared on my face, her last comment ticking me off slightly. Brushing it off, Jack cleared his throat. Placing me on his back, he carried me to a delivery van. Hopping off of his back, I let myself in. The Tainsworth twins sat in the front with their armor on, Raven climbing in with Ruby. Messing with her curls, Raven basically sat on top of her. Adjusting my bell sleeves, the leather hugged my slender arms. Oppressive silence hung between us, Ruby refusing to look at me. Folding her arms across her chest, something needed to be said. Choosing not to say it, the time passed horribly slow. The van screeched to a halt, Jack pulling me into a hidden compartment. The door squeaked open, heavy footfalls echoed in the back.
“Who are you?” A gruff voice demanded, Ruby speaking up. Clearing her throat, her voice tone seemed rather bitter.
“We wish to join your ranks. I can’t stand vampires, especially their fucking queen. She could die for all I care.” She snapped hotly, truth oozing from her words. “She is hiding somewhere in this van.” Horror rounded our eyes, her betrayal striking us in the heart.” Opening the compartment hiding us, she took a step back. The hunters slapped handcuffs on us all, Ruby grinning evilly ear to ear. Wicked laughter rumbled in her throat, her head cocking back.
“I have been working with them the entire time. There is no information, just the home of your executions.” She gloated sensually, the twins cursing in her direction. “I am not even a teenager. I am a witch who has been alive for centuries. Can I tell you a secret? I am the leader of the hunters. Everyone else was just a puppet.” Sighing with satisfaction, she circled us. Tears welled up in my eyes, Raven sobbed softly next to me. Pulling a gun from her pocket, Ruby shot her in the head. Time slowed, the twins crying out. Emptying her gun into them, a broken wail burst from my lips. Their bodies dropped forward, ruby dripping from the holes in the middle of their foreheads. Jack twitched darkly next to me, my mind officially broken. His bangs hid his eyes, his claws extended from his fingernails. Unlocking his handcuffs, he pretended to get madder as he worked on mine. The metal clanged to the ground, Ruby’s eyes widening with terror. Tears blurred my vision, my scythe sliding into my eager palms.
“You fucking bitch!” I screamed vehemently, pacing back and forth. Reapers held their souls in their palms, all hope of saving them was gone. “You are going to pay.” Shrugging her shoulders, she leaned forward.
“How pathetic for the queen to lose her cool so quickly?” She taunted cruelly, Jack fumed dangerously next to me. “You can’t damage me. You can kill this body and all I have to do is find another one. Angel of darkness! Kill all of my hunters and give me their lives.” The hunters holding us hostage dropped to the ground, thousands of white glowing balls flowing into her. Panic gripped my face, reapers burst from the ground surrounding her. Death himself popped up next to me, one raise of his hand stopping them.
“I am going to bring these souls to Heaven. Take her out.” He commanded urgently, the balls floating into a worn leather sack hanging off of his wrists. “They are all dead. You did all that you could. Good luck.” The last ball of light floated into the sack, a snap of his finger signaling his disappearance. The three of us remained, a ball of shadowy energy building in her palm. A low hissing noise echoed around us, the delivery truck fading to the base of a dead twisted tree. Violet grass danced around me, a chill running up my spine. Gripping my scythe tightly, rage mixed with depression. Sauntering out from behind the tree, a single wave of her hand sent us a couple of yards away. Gone was the armor she wore, a tight leather number hugging her body. Violet needles rested in between her fingers, dead man’s blood dripped onto the grass.
“I suppose you want to hear about my tale and why I am doing this?” She mused with a wicked chuckle, licking the blood off her hand. “I have a bomb ticking away. The lovely thing will release a virus that will kill all of the monsters in the world. Humans will be infected with a magical mind control. Don’t worry about your friends. I killed them because they were annoying me. Do you know how hard it was to pretend to be friends with you and arrange your fucking role? I made a deal with your father to kill you. How did you like the little bonfire?” Wanting to charge at her, Jack held me back. Raising my scythe into the attack position, the corner of my lips curled into a snarl.
“You freaking bitch.” I growled through gritted teeth, leaping into the air. Raising her hands in the air, thousands of needles floated behind her. Flicking her wrists, the rain of needles tore through my body. Jack would die, my boots pushing off the branch. Covering Jack with my body, the needles struck me instead. A burning sensation coursed through my veins, inky sludge pouring from my eyes. Cracks lined her face as needles struck the tree, an idea coming to mind. Jack trembled underneath me, his eyes falling on the blackened veins coursing lining my porcelain skin.
“Shoot her in the hands. She can’t throw her needles if her wrists can’t move.” I wheezed, coughing up blood. Dragging him behind the tree, my chains blocked the needles heading towards Jack. His hand quaked, his bullets hitting everywhere but the target. Lining my free arm up with his, my hand steadied his.
“I can’t!” He protested with wet eyes, his mental state beyond repair. “My friends are dead. My friends are dead! She used to be my friend!” Shimmering teardrops crashed to the grass, the grass darkening to an inky black. Confusion dawned on his face the moment I held his gun underneath his eyes. Teardrops flooded the chamber, my hand guiding his hand to the level of his eyes. Getting behind him, I clicked the safety. Aiming for her palm, a quick yank sent a blackening bullet up her arm. A wave of relief washed over me the moment her needles glitched, the muzzle of his gun aimed for her other palm. Pulling the trigger, the bullet shattered her other arm. Dropping to her side, cracks echoed in the air. The cracks on her face had deepened, my attention turning towards her tree. Swinging my scythe into the tree, her shrill shrieks filled the air as flames raced into the center of the tree. Water snaked around their branches, my chains clinking their way around the thick trunk. Mouthing a silent spell, the needles floated out of me.
“Water from my heart! Flames of the Dead! Chains from my master! I call upon thee to burn the tree down, drown it from the inside. Choke the shit out of it.” I ordered sharply, each word hurting. “Final spell, turn my blood into venom for a witch.” Raising my right hand, a bell rang the moment the tip of my scythe made contact. Closing my fist, the needles dug themselves into the tree. Flames devoured her skin, cold water filled her lungs. Chains snaked up her body, a sea of fiery orange coloring her skin. My vision blurred, Jack snapping out of his paralyzed state. Raising his gun, a bullet whistled into the tree. The bullet being the last thing we needed, the tree decayed to dust along with her. The dimension crumbled away, my legs giving out. Leaning against the destroyed van, fresh tears flowed freely at the sight of our dead friends. Jack picked up one of their backpacks, his tears soaking the top of the bag. Pulling out a medical bag, he ripped out a needle filled with milky liquid. Jamming the needle into my leg, the effects of the venom dying down. Pressing my ear to the ground, an ominous ticking echoed in my ear. Tick, tick, tick! Feeling around the dirt, a metal door clanged underneath my hand. One look in Jack’s direction, he understood. Spinning the rusty handle, he lifted up the door. Gathering the rest of my strength, I popped in. Shutting the door behind me, the lock sealed my fate. Jack protested outside, the top refusing to budge, my heart sinking at the only option. The only way to stop the bomb was to set it off in a dome, the spell caster having to be in the center of it. Praying that my reaper side would keep me alive even Jack had to know that he didn’t stand a chance. Using my scythe as a walking stick, my feet moved with adrenaline. Sniffing the air, the sweet smell told me where to go. Limping through the twisted concrete halls, my breath hitched at the orange angry metal ball. Taking a deep breath, the image of my dead friends and that town I called home flashed in my mind. Pushing through, I sank to my knees. The last of my power built around my hands, a sad smile haunting my face the moment I placed my palms on the surface. A water dome glittered over me, reaper’s flames reinforcing it. Channeling the rest of my flames into core, the metal rattled violently. Preparing for the worst, a giant raven folded its wings around me.
“I will protect you no matter what.” Dr. Death promised warmly, his energy providing me safety as the chemical blasted everywhere but us. “Dissolve the poison.” The colorful particles lightened to a snow white, everything hitting me at once. Ruffling my hair, he disappeared back into my mind. Jack sprinted in, his shattered expression speaking volumes.
“I am so sorry I couldn’t save them.” I blubbered uncontrollably, falling to the floor. “I don’t deserve you. You should just k-” Rushing over to me, he clutched me desperately to his chest. Tears flowed freely, neither of us able to move. Laying back, the clarified chemicals reminding me of snow. A tortured wail burst from my lips, my quaking fingers clinging to his jacket. Saphiro and Hazard skidded to a stop, their faces dropping at the sight of us. Shaking our shoulders to see if we were alive, gracious grins brightened their features at us breathing. Their words faded in and out, a rough darkness enveloping me in it’s sea of madness.
Jerking awake, an eager Alex and Hazel hovered by the white hospital bed. Covering my eyes from the blinding lights, their arms embraced me from either side. Eloise smothered Jack in love, his numb expression matching mine. Bursting into tears, their smiling faces taunted me. Holding me tighter, his words faded in and out. Jack screamed for everyone to leave him alone. Kissing Hazel on the head, Alex dragged her out. Walking over to my bed, his little sister sulked out. Crawling in next to me, his head rested on my chest. Wail after wail burst from his lips, my slender hands being the only thing comforting him. These were his friends and now they were gone. The fault was all mine, guilt eating me raw from the inside. Hours passed like this, him going numb then screaming with raw emotional agony. Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, he tugged on his boots.
“Are you coming?” He asked hoarsely, offering me his hand. “We need to go home and raise our family.” Accepting his hand cautiously, he yanked me to feet. Placing me on his back, the look in his eyes begged for me to rest my head on his back. Walking into the hall, he ignored the pleading nurses. Saphiro blocked his path, his depressed smile not helping the situation. Tugging anxiously on his navy vest, my mind chose to focus on the midnight black blouse underneath his vest. Clearing his throat, clammy sweat drenched his skin.
“Come with me.” He begged kindly, Jack seconds from saying no. “Please. I have a couple of things to show you.” Caving to his request, we walked for a solid ten minutes to the cemetery. Three caskets waited to be lowered to the ground, Jack dropping me. Struggling to my feet, my heart shattered at him draping his arms over the coffin. Whispering a prayer to them, he took a step back. Pulling me close to his waist, his sobs grew louder as they lowered the caskets into the ground. Death popped up behind us with three letters in his hands, his head bowed in respect to the dead bodies.
“These are from your friends. Call it one final letter.” He informed Jack sullenly, turning towards me. “Thank you for your services. Unfortunately, I can’t remove the curse.” Offering me his hand, my fingers curled around his hand. Shaking it once, he bowed in my direction. Pressing his palms together, a twinkle glinted in his eyes.
“Once everything settles down, we should get together to have tea. I am sorry for your loss.” He expressed serenely, understanding death but not the grief part. Snapping his fingers he was gone, an eager Jack reading the letters. Curiosity burned a bit but my inside voice told me to leave it alone. Tucking them into his pocket, he placed me on his back. Following Saphiro back into town, his crooked grin lit up his face for a quick second.
“They said not to lose you.” He chuckled softly, a bit of hope glinting in his eyes. “Time will heal my wounds.” Hundreds of eyes watched us enter back into town, my jaw dropping at the statue of the five of us. The plaque read the heroes of the dawn, the two of us unsure of what to feel. Jack thanked him profusely, Saphiro pointing to the Victorian mansion at the top of the nearby hill.
“That mansion is yours to conduct your business as well as living in it.” He promised earnestly, fresh tears flooding from my eyes. “We hope you choose this town as your home.” Jumping down, I cupped his hands. A tender blush rose to his cheeks, my real smile illuminating my features for the first time since yesterday.
“Only if you'll have me, good sir.” I returned politely, his brow cocking at my response. Alex ran up to me with the boys in his arms. Accepting them, life was okay. Please karma, grant me peace for the rest of my life.
Epilogue:
Alex had his head buried in his work, the twins ran around the yard. Elise read in the tree, the two kiddos looking so grown up. The morning sun bathed the idyllic scene, a good five years had passed. Holding my swollen bump, two wails snapped me out of my trance. Jack stepped out with our white haired twins Sammy and Raven, the one year old girls reaching for me. Their fiery orange and red eyes glittered with love, my arms scooping them up. Wrapping his arms around my bump, Mark was due in a couple of months.
“Alex, Elise!” He barked with his trademark grin as they rushed up to him. Elise smoothed out her white summer dress, Alex adjusting his glasses in a brisk manner. An irked look greeted him, his stern gaze shutting down any protest.
“Watch the boys for us.” He ordered lightly, passing them wrapped boxes. “I need to take your sister somewhere. Boys, go in and watch a show with your uncle and aunt.” Sprinting into the house, Alex shot him a thumbs up as he followed them inside. Guiding me down the hill and through the town, his beard kept capturing my attention. Grabbing three bouquets on the way, he dragged me to the cemetery. Stopping in front of our friends' graves, he laid a bouquet on each tombstone. Dusting off his navy designer suit, my simple orange summer dress felt like a sad attempt to match him. Rubbing my back, he kissed my bump.
“We came by to tell you how things are going. Alex and Elise are learning how to drive. Yeah, that is as scary as it sounds. Sammy and Raven’s birthday happened a couple of weeks ago. They are both one year old. Crazy, isn’t it?” He chatted pleasantly, happy tears welling up in his eyes. “We have one more on the way. It’s another boy. We are going to name him Mark. I miss you dummies every fucking day. I wouldn’t have survived if you gave me that letter. Thank you.” Wiping away his tears, Sammy and Raven cooed in my arms. Kissing the top of my head, Jack guided me to the square. Sitting me down at the fountain, he took the girls in his arms. Passing me a bundle of envelopes, they were all from the townsfolk and monsters all over the world.
“Word got out about where you live and they all wanted to write their thanks.” He explained jovially, sitting down next to me. “Read them tonight and write back. They would love to hear from you.” Flicking through the pile, this was going to take a while. Popping to my feet, I could sense that Alex was getting frustrated. Walking back home, the fact that people wanted to thank me touched my heart. Opening the door, my boys bounced towards me. Dragging me to the couch, one of Alex’s shows was playing. Climbing onto the couch next to me, Jack took the other seat next to me. Hazel skipped in, her long hair grazing the worn wooden floor. Sitting down by my feet, Elvira laid on her lap. Basking in the moment, this was how life was supposed to be. Thank you for the gift of a good life. All the tragedy led to this moment. All of the scars told the tale of my twisted journey here. Jack leaned his head on my shoulder, the boys laying on my lap. Playing with their hair, I hoped sincerely that this would never end.

Welcome to Camp Redwood!
Are you ready to fight to the death with age regressed forty year olds with the faces of adorable little kids?
How about coming to terms with your entire life, or at least five years of it, being one big fucking lie?
We are so excited to announce our 2018 group! Where you will undoubtedly FIND yourself here. Your true self.
The self you did not know existed.
SO, jump in that military bunker, grab that blunt object to fight against our little campers disembowelling our counselors, and get yourself down to CAMP REDWOOD. WHERE WE START EVERY DAY WITH A CAMP REDWOOD SMILE.
Apply now!
Application end date: 05/02/2018.
…
It’s been a tough few days.
So, I think I will be posting this update in two chunks so I can get everything down and clear my head. I am alone right now.
Yes. I am the last survivor of Camp Redwood 2023 (?). I’ve been unsure how to start this and end this because I really just want to get into the meat of what has been going on.
But… I must ask. I have to.
What year is it?
That doesn't matter right now. I'll continue where I left off.
Teddy did leave us alone in the end. But his screams were still haunting me hours after the thing with his voice had left. I don’t even think I could call it his voice.
It sounded like him but there were pieces of him missing. Like someone had reached into the boy’s mind and pulled out the skeleton of his consciousness, the bare bones of his being—and cruelly stuffed him into a metal shell.
That is what Teddy sounded like.
He sounded like a wounded animal, confused why he was alive. Terrified. I now know what he is the product of. Teddy is a victim of horrifying, unethical experiments our campers have been forcing on kidnapped counselors after taking over the camp. Have you ever heard of the sound of crying which isn’t human?
That is Teddy. He is the product of forcing life into the dead, and leaving it to suffer with its consciousness. Which, in my opinion, is a fate far worse than death.
You’re probably wondering where my two companions are.
Well, that is why I am writing this.
I want to tell you what happened so I can wrap my head around it myself, and choose between killing all of us and sending these psychopaths to hell, or coming to terms with our truth and fighting back. Well, it’s their truth. I wouldn’t say it’s mine. It took us three whole days to get the guts to risk leaving Allison’s secret bunker inside her cabin, and attempting to find a way out of this hell-hole. Harry and I were the ones to do it, leaving a still-not-completely-himself Rowan to guard our safehouse. I didn’t want to leave him alone for a multitude of reasons but due to Harry actually having a soul and a semblance of empathy, I was overruled.
Despite being heavily under the influence of age-regressing animal crackers which had mentally turned him into a toddler, Rowan was still himself to a degree. Which meant he was back to being our leader. I was sceptical at first, because no matter how many times he insisted he was in fact okay, I couldn’t seem to shake off the feeling that the childish parts of him, the warped parts of his mind which had turned him into a child, were still there.
Even if they were very subtle. I caught him doodling on his clipboard, and much later on, singing to himself with an odd smile on his face he had successfully gaslit Harry and I into believing it was just a coping mechanism. Say what you want about Rowan Atlas, he is damn good at swaying your opinion. Even when we were 100% sure Rowan was not his original self, the guy we had both met at the start of camp.
It was almost like him having two minds. The mind of a child, and the mind of a teenager.
For example, he still ordered us around and attempted to take back his role of leader— which had at least secured some normality back into our lives. But he also hated loud noises, and freaked out every time one of the littles tried to get in. There was also the incident we had agreed not to talk about, because talking about it meant facing the fact that our friend was no longer himself.
It was a hours after Teddy left us in peace. Harry was sleeping, and I was on the cusp of slumber, slipping through more files. Rowan had been oddly quiet. Which wasn’t a Rowan thing. Whether he was mentally a child or a teenager, he was still being loud and obnoxious. I sat up to find him cross-legged, playing with something.
I thought it was a worm at first, but no. It was exactly like what I found at the start of this, an eye attached to a nerve. But this time it was undoubtedly human, and now Rowan’s plaything. When I questioned him, he said he was “studying” it. Though there was definitely a difference between studying something and playing with it. The scary thing was, he saw no wrong in it, holding it in his hands and stripping off the metallic pieces cruelly attached to it.
In the end, I took it from him and stamped on it. Rowan didn’t have the reaction I was expecting. Because he was still hiding behind the façade that his mind hadn’t been warped by de-aging animal crackers.
If that wasn’t bad enough, Eleanor Summers had given me a 24 hour deadline to hand over the boys, and we were well over the limit so an ambush was likely imminent.
I still had so many questions. Why were Rowan, Harry and Carmel so important while the rest of us were seen as nothing but spare parts?
That is what the little bitch said. Now physically eleven years old with the mind of a deranged forty year old scientist, Eleanor told me I was nothing to them but spare parts. God, it’s so weird calling her what she is after looking after her kid self, her fake self, for weeks.
Little Eleanor with her golden pigtails and obsession with teddy bear picnics was in fact a complete fucking sociopath. That much of one in fact, that her and her equally psychotic colleagues who engaged in these experiments had been regressed into little kids inside a rehabilitation camp (Nicknamed: Project Spearhead) which was supposed to fix them and had failed spectacularly. Because they’ve taken over. And this time? We’re the fucking lab rats.
The counselors here at Redwood.
I had seen her adult self being interviewed by mysterious Agent Lemrac, a face behind Project Spearhead, the girl who was far too young to be an agent, and have that kind of authority. Also, someone with a soul—who had a clear biased opinion against the experiments.
Part of me wondered if Lemrac still existed. Maybe she was behind the odd phone calls we kept receiving on an old fashioned rotary phone. With Eleanor’s deadline in mind, the two of us made our journey quick. It wasn’t hard to leave the camp itself. There were guards in the form of Callen and Olive, brainwashed and turned into the kid’s muscle, but they were easy enough to get past as long as we distracted them with something shiny.
They were mentally six-years-old so literally anything grabbed their attention.
I quickly realized my mistake once we managed to escape the camp—Harry in front of me, with me lagging behind. We moved slowly, ducking behind trees and throwing ourselves into the dirt. Very cloak and dagger. It didn’t take us long to slip into the woods. Just past the lake were the exit gates to Redwood which led to a road.
Not exactly civilisation, but I would take it over having my body taken apart for “parts” in these so-called experiments.
When we got to the gate, however, I realized I had given the adults too much fucking credit.
Whoever was in charge of Spearhead clearly did not care about lingering survivors, as long as they were successfully cutting us out from the outside world. And that’s what the giant wall I found myself staring at was, an impossible foot monster towering over us and cementing my earlier thoughts. We were screwed. The woman on the phone had made it clear we were being abandoned, and yet some of me naively held onto them maybe still rescuing us.
“Fuck.” I didn’t know what to do, but kicking the damn thing felt like the right thing. I did, and then regretted it half a second later.
This thing was impenetrable. Impossible to climb unless we had a fucking death-wish.
Blinking at it through fraying sunlight blinding me, the thing almost resembled a mirage. It stood under the sun, a giant roadblock completely blocking us from any form of help.
The sun wasn’t helping, scorching through my shirt. I swiped at my sweaty forehead, unable to resist a frustrated scream I had to muffle-gag with my hand. I risked a look behind us. Thankfully, we were around ten minutes away from the main camp. The lake was nearby glittering under a late afternoon sun, and all I wanted to right then was to wade into the shallows and let the murky water swallow me up. The little shits couldn’t swim, maybe I’d be safe.
“Fuck!”
“This is bad.” Harry Carlisle broke the silence after my frustrated cry. With his eyes glued to the wall, he took off his hat and ran a hand through dark brown curls which were catching the light of the sun, setting strands alight across his forehead. None of us were in great shape after spending days hunkered down in a secret bunker. Harry was no exception.
His short sleeved camp Redwood shirt was still covered with vomit, discoloured with days’ worth of sweat stains and lack of showers.
He bent over, grasping hold of his knees. “What do we do?” I could tell by the tone of his voice he was freaking out, and I didn’t blame him. But Harry was still on my mind.
His signature was undoubtedly all over every Project Spearhead file, despite him repeatedly insisting he had nothing to do with it. At that moment, I could almost believe him. The boy looked exhausted and frustrated, pained.
He surprised me by slipping to his knees and burying his head in the dirt and screaming into rough soil. I was struck, then, by the sudden memory of flames. I had been sitting around campfires for weeks at Redwood, but this one didn’t feel like it took place at camp.
Instead, it felt more personal. I could almost see it, flickering orange sparking at the backs of my eyes and the sour taste of beer in my throat. Like the memory was trying to push itself to the surface. This moment felt nostalgic and yet close—as if it had happened yesterday. Like both the past and present had entangled in one.
If I concentrated I swore I could hear the murmur of voices, phantom laughter in my head and a cool night breeze grazing my cheeks.
“Earth to Josie?”
I snapped out of it quickly. “You’re asking me?” I kicked the dirt again. “I thought Rowan was our camp leader.”
Harry lifted his head after a moment, his eyes flicking to me. “You know he can’t make rash decisions right now.”
“Exactly.” I said. “We both know he’s not back to his normal self. He’s both right now. A little kid, and a teenager.” I shuddered. “I’m sorry, did I forget to mention our so-called head counsellor was playing with a human eye like a fucking cat?”
“Mm."
“Well, why aren’t you taking it seriously?”
Harry’s gaze skated the horizon, cotton candy colored clouds blurring into twilight. “Becauuuse the sun is going to your head.”
I could practically hear his eyes rolling. Harry took three strides towards the wall and pressed his face into rough brick. “So, this is it, right?” He muffled into rough cement. “We are really going to die at fucking summer camp.”
“I’m going to die,” I corrected him. “They want you two and Carmel because apparently you’re special.”
Harry made a scoffing noise into the wall. I was starting to think he was setting up camp there, planning to tell all of his grievances to the cement. “Oh yeah, because that’s a good thing? You’ve seen—no—heard what they’ve done to Teddy and the others, and you think them wanting us for something else is special?” his voice broke a little. “I’d rather have your fate.”
The boy’s words made me realize how little I was compared to the others. While they and Carmel were part of some grand, psychotic scheme, I was just needed for extra bulk. “Why don’t you talk to your friends?” I said, after letting the boy throw several punches into the soil. I wasn’t going to comment on his hits being surprisingly strong enough to shake the ground.
Harry didn’t look at me after calming down, resorting to tracing the earth with the toes of his shoe. “Who?”
"The CIA."
I was surprised by his retort, even if it was equally sarcastic. “Oh, you think I’m in the CIA?” He stepped closer to me, his breath in my face. “In case you haven’t noticed, this is bigger than the CIA. Whoever is in charge of this project is way higher up.”
“So, you’re admitting you’re a sleeper.”
“No, that’s not what I—”
“Then what?” I demanded, cutting him off. “Why are your fingerprints quite literally all over this?”
Harry folded his arms, his expression darkening. "You're still talking about this?" He groaned. “Josie.” He planted his hands on my shoulders. “I am not a spy, okay? Yes, my writing being on those documents was weird, but we’re also dealing with animal crackers which turn us into littles.” His lips curved into the slightest of smirks. “I’m pretty sure it would be easy for a group of scientists to use my writing as some kind of red herring. They’re trying to turn us against each other, obviously. And that’s not going to happen.” He squeezed my shoulders and I felt momentary comfort. I was so tired.
I hadn’t slept properly in days in fear of Eleanor coming to smoke us out—and the urge to just sink into the boy’s chest was suddenly overwhelming. Luckily, I had self-control. I took a step back, and he dropped his arms. “That's sobering, yes,” I said. “But I’m still going to try waking you up with those trigger phrases we found.”
When he tried to speak, I shook my head.
“Like it or not, you’re our only way out.”
I had made it clear several times to the two of them that I had no intention to use the trigger phrases we found taped to the back of the door in the bunker, when searching for more intel. But the more I was really thinking about it, if there were sleeper agents capable of taking down a group of forty-year-old tweens, I had no choice but to at least try. Because it was either that, or I gave the littles what they wanted. The boy’s. Whatever they needed, Rowan, Carmel, and Harry were the keys to their plan.
We needed a miracle, and those trigger phrases were our best shot.
Harry, of course, was against this idea.
He did that thing he always did when he scrunched up his nose and curled his lip. It reminded me of a toddler not getting their way. I saw it exclusively when the littles were taking advantage of his piggybacking service. “Josie, I’m not a fucking spy!”
"You could be." I said stiffly. "And until we figure out what is going on with you, I don't trust you. You said it yourself. Your writing was all over the kid's files, so at some point, regardless of you remembering or not, you have been part of this project.”
“So, why did you bring me out here?” He inclined his head. “You don’t trust me and yet you bring me on your little mission to find an exit.”
I shrugged. “I was partly hoping we would be attacked and your natural instincts would kick in.”
“So, I’m your lab-rat?”
“Partially.”
Harry did the scrunchy-nose thing again. “What the fuck, dude?!”
He looked like he was going to argue before deciding against it. Instead, he slipped on his raybans and gestured behind me with a sigh.
"We should probably get going before those little freaks come looking for us and realize we’ve left our safehouse.” I didn’t know how to explain and put into words that to survive we had to try everything—and if there was a slither of a chance that Harry really was some kind of sleeper agent, I was going to take advantage of that. I hadn’t forgotten about Carmel, Callan, and Olive. Rowan too, no matter how screwed up he was. I was counting on getting all of us out. I turned on my heel and started to head back to camp. I didn’t look at him because doing that would make me weak.
“Right. Let’s go.”
There was something going at the camp when we got back. I was startled by an intense blue light illuminating from the lunch cabin, and I had half a mind to turn and run. Then the screams started. Just like Teddy, they sounded both human and not, a horrifying mix of man and machine wailing for death. I found myself paralysed, crouched behind Cassie’s cabin, their phantom screams rattling my skull sending my thoughts into overdrive. “Josie.” I felt warm fingers wrap around my elbow and pull me back. Harry was thankfully there, dragging me away before I could expose us. It was enough to snap me out of it. Enough to drive me into fight or flight.
When we made it back to Allison’s cabin, Rowan was sleeping. He had conked out halfway through a pack of gummy worms. I spent the next few hours going through each trigger phrase written on the yellow sticky note we found taped to the door. I figured if we were going to try and wake Harry up, he would have to be restrained in case he was triggered to hurt us or even himself. “Is this really necessary?”
“Yes.” I said, squinting at the third trigger phrase. The two of us were sitting cross-legged in front of each other. Harry, breathing heavily, and me, trying to make myself calm. Harry pulled gingerly at the jump-rope restraints we had managed to loop around his wrists. I was expecting something out of him, but all I got were his wide eyes staring back at me.
The latest phrase was twisting my brain. It sounded like a kid’s book. I took a deep breath.
“Green Tigers Do Not Live Independently.”
Harry didn’t move, making a deal of blinking rapidly back at me. “No, I mean,” he gestured to his arms pinned behind his back. “Why did you have to make them so tight?"
“Because you’re a spy, dude.” Rowan had woken up, intrigued by my attempts to wake up a possible sleeper. He was pretending to go through the Eleanor Summers footage again, but the boy was clearly invested in what we were doing. Sitting slumped in the spinning chair, he leaned his fist on his chin. There were various things about Rowan I wanted to point out, but I was too scared to. The tips of his fingers were still stained red, and I had no idea if it was new or old. Rowan Atlas used to be the one guy at camp I used to think looked older than he was—and acted older than he was.
Instead of taking part in camp activities, he chose to sit on a branch and read pretentious classics. Yeah. He was one of THOSE guys. The slight stubble on his chin would definitely get him served alcohol, and his intelligence and quick-thinking would easily sway you if you were sceptical. Now he was the complete opposite. Maybe I was imagining things, but he had definitely gotten younger in the face, even if it was just a year or two.
I am not talking about his appearance, however. Rowan’s mentality was drastically different from the guy who held crisis meetings and ordered all of us around like we were his own children. This guy had a certain childish twinkle in his eye when I happened to catch it, a twitch in his lips which was constantly a wide smile like he was constantly seeing butterflies. Before being force-fed animal crackers, the guy had maintained his hair and hygiene no matter what happened. Now, he looked like he’d been dragged through a forest. Literally. There was still grass and leaves caught in his sandy hair, his camp Redwood shirt torn in odd places.
He yawned, curling up on the chair, apparently getting comfy. “No hard feelings, but we gotta keep you under investigation. Like Josie said, your name was all over those shady documents.”
Even his voice was different. I couldn’t call it a squeak, but it was close enough to one.
“I’m not a spy,” Harry grumbled, ducking his head. “I think I would know if I was—what, some kind of government agent?”
“That’s the whole point of them,” Rowan, still with lingering childish traits, winked at him. “They don’t know either.” He raised his hand and mimed the finger guns, protruding them into his temples and pretending to pull the trigger. Adapting a storytelling tone, he lowered his voice to a whisper. Like he was talking to the kids.
“They can live their whole lives without realizing.” I could tell from his tone he was getting excited with the idea of sleeper agents. Maybe it was a kid thing. Rowan sat up straight with wide eyes. “Cruelly brainwashed by a secret organisation at a young age and turned into super soldiers, these guys have no family. No friends.” His gaze flicked to Harry, his lips twitching into a teasing grin. “Only the insatiable urge to kill and follow orders. They don’t have brains to feel or emotions. And that?”
He did a dramatic spin on the chair. I could tell he was revelling in the look of horror on Harry’s face. “That is the most dangerous thing about them. The inability to have free will. Because what happens when they come face to face with people they used to love? People from their old life?”
With both of us enthralled in his speech, the boy smirked. “They kill them. Family members and friends. With one simple order? BAM.” Harry jumped, and I am ashamed to say I did too. Rowan blew his imaginary finger guns. “With one single and yet perfect headshot, it’s allll over. There’s blood EVERYWHERE. There’s brains!” He giggled. “Brains! And it’s like, sooo gross.”
With the way he kept adding to his story, getting progressively more excited and practically vibrating in the chair, the boy was reminding me more and more of my little sister. Which terrified me. Because if this was him back to himself, was this his new normal?
“Rowan, stop.” It took every ounce of my being not to yell at him. “You’re acting like a fucking child.” I was frowning at a sign on the wall warning us to ‘mind our head’. It wasn’t even a low ceiling, and yet that was the fourth time I had seen that sign.
Harry looked mildly horrified. Usually, he was the one who told the ghost stories. I could tell even he was questioning his own identity at that moment, and I paused interrogating him with phrases. “I’m sorry, but who out of us ate our weight in animal crackers?”
“Against my will.” Rowan yawned again, doing another spin on the chair. I had to turn around and shoot him a glare. “That’s the second time you’ve thrown me being turned into a kid in my face. Which is not fair. Did I ask to be stuffed full of poison?"
“Well, you didn’t exactly fight against Eleanor.”
“I was tied up, asshole—and I’m pretty you were in la-la land at that point.”
“I’m allergic to peanut butter, so no,” Harry rolled his eyes. “I snapped out of it when my body reminded me.”
“That sounds like a you problem, dude.”
Harry groaned, tipping his head back. “Holy shit, Rowan. You used to be cool and now you’re like an annoying little brother.”
“Touché.”
“Shut up. Both of you.” I found my voice, grabbing a pen and scribbling out the first line of trigger phrases which were a no-go.
“Rowan, annoyingly, is right.” I said, ignoring the guy’s noise of glee. If he kept spinning around on that chair, I was going to kill him.
The blur of movement at the corner of my eye was driving me mad. Focusing on Harry, I took a break from the trigger phrases for a moment, poking him in the cheek. It was supposed to be light-hearted, but the guy looked offended.
“For the third time, we can’t ignore that at some point you have signed off on all of those files, which means you were part of Spearhead.” I shrugged. “I’m not saying you are, but we have to be smart if we’re going to survive against a group of deranged scientists.”
Rowan chuckled. “What she saiiiiiid.”
"Why aren't we paying attention to the guy who clearly has allegiance to those freaks?” Harry stuck out his tongue at Rowan, which was surprising on multiple levels. Wasn’t he supposed to be the normal one? “Aren't you their favorite counselor?"
"I was literally mind controlled by preservatives, asshole," Rowan shot back. "And I'm not the only one. You and Carmel are on their radar too."
"Yeah, but we’re not the ones playing with eyes.”
"I'm too tired to argue with you." The boy responded in a yawn, cuddling into the chair armrest like a cat. “Also… you’re a noodlehead.”
“Ignore him.” I told Harry. “Just focus on me, alright? You have to look at me.”
“I am!”
“It’s time to make the donuts.” I articulated it perfectly.
Harry surprised me with a laugh. “That one can’t be real.”
“It is. Shush.” I cleared my throat. “The strawberry moon will rise in July.” When nothing happened, I frowned. “Maybe I’m not saying them right.” I peered at the next one, mentally speaking it and then muttering it to myself to get an idea of the tone.
“Or,” Harry shrugged, pulling at his restraints. “I’m just spit-balling here, but maybe I’m NOT a secret government sleeper agent after all?”
“Be mindful of the deep ravine.” This time I practically shouted it in his face, only to get his wide smile in return.
“Josie, this isn’t working.”
“It will.” I was growing increasingly more frustrated. “Just try and listen to them, okay? Don’t push them out.”
I tried one more time, leaning close and scrunching up the sticky note in my hand. Harry’s expression stayed stoic, though from the contortions in his forehead and the twitch in his lips he was trying so hard not to laugh. “It looks like it will rain tonight.”
I was surprised, then, when Rowan jolted in the chair suddenly. He lifted his head, his eyes wide. I was seeing him back to his usual self for the flicker of a second, his expression contorted with fright, lips curling into a scowl. “Do you guys smell that?”
“Smell what?” I sniffed the air, but there was nothing which was out of the ordinary. I had grown used to the combined stink of our body odour.
Rowan wrinkled his nose. He sat up straighter. “That.” He whispered. “It smells like… burning.”
I opened my mouth to ask what he meant before Harry went stiff suddenly. I sensed his entire body seem to brace itself. His eyes hardened. “Untie me.” He said in a croak.
When my shaking hands went to the boy’s restraints, his were balled into fists. I glimpsed muscles bulging through the back of his shirt and forearms. His demeanour reminded me of an animal growing territorial. “Something is… wrong,” he said in a sharp breath. Harry’s frightened eyes found mine. “Wrong.” He said again, blinking rapidly. “Something is...wr–wrong. ” When I pulled the last of the rope from his arms, Rowan shocked me with a piercing cry which sent him tumbling off of the chair, his trembling hands planted over his ears, lips carved into an O.
His eyes were wide with terror, with agony I couldn't understand. Childish terror. Which catapulted him back to his real age.
Before I could hesitate, I was crawling over to him, attempting to snap the boy out of it. But he was inconsolable, his eyes almost unseeing, his body contorting with every shriek. It took me a moment to realize Harry was the same. But instead of a piercing shriek of a scream, he was wailing into his knees, as if to escape something.
His body seemed to jolt left and right, like he was being electrocuted. When I saw glimpses of sharp red pooling between his fingers and down the back of his neck, something sickly crept up my throat. Rowan was somehow worse, his whole face contorting like it was it's own separate being, rivulets of intense red dripping from his nose and mouth, and staining his hands desperately pressed over his ears.
It was a synchronised cry, I realized, after concluding that no matter what I did, I couldn't save them.
It was a sound only they could hear, a high-pitched screech like a dog-whistle which was only affecting them. It was the kids, I thought. Surely. If they could disembowel counselors, I was sure they would have no problem engineering a sound which would only affect certain people.
Stumbling back, I had two choices. I could either try and help them, try and block out this phantom noise slowly killing them-- or I could leave them and find a safer place. With that choice in my mind, I barely noticed the phone begin to ring under Allison's desk.
That same old fashioned trilling rang in my head, and I managed to reach under and grab the receiver, my heart in my throat. "Please." I managed to squeak out, trying to ignore Harry, who was trying to rip out his hair, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. I saw the whites, blood vessels popping one by one.
When he crumpled to the ground, I thought he was dead. But his wails continued into the floor, and I wanted them to stop. I wanted him to die because I couldn’t stand hearing him screaming for help which wasn’t coming. I couldn't help them, and it was killing me. The kids were clearly trying to smoke us out, this time targeting the boy’s. Still though, I had my secret weapon. The Spearhead project.
"There are three of us left," I panted down the phone. "You have to help us. I am at Camp Redwood. You need to get us out of here. Do you hear me? You need to get us out–"
“Attempts to fix the current situation have been unsuccessful, Miss Greenfield," the woman with the British accent's voice came through in a rush of static, cutting me off. Her voice was monotone, and I wondered if she was in fact a programmed bot.
"All efforts for manual activation have failed from the disaster zone. The signal appears to have been sabotaged. I repeat. The E.485 frequency has been sabotaged. Designated models 0115, 0116, and 0118 are now officiated as being faulty and are no longer needed for protocol 9AXC5. Please stand by for standard protocol deactivation. Thank you for your service. Agent Salta. Agent Elsilrac. Agent Lemrac.”
My grip loosened on the phone, and I felt my legs started to give-way. "You're the one doing this to them?”
When Rowan dropped to his knees, blood dripping from his nose, my stomach jumped into my throat. There was no way. I figured it was an attack from the kids, but I was wrong. Instead, this sound, this frequency, was coming from the phone.
I thought back to the video footage. Agent Lemrac interviewing Eleanor Summers. Harry's signature on the paperwork. “Can you… say that again?” I heard myself say in a breath. But the dead ringing tone was already clanging in my skull, a robotic countdown laced within the static. I grabbed the pen I had been writing with, scribbling those names down, my hands shaking.
“Preparing emergency shutdown protocol. Thank you for your service, Agent Salta, Elsilrac, Lemrac.” The voice continued, which was just another stab in the gut. I heard Salta before. I heard Lemrac. But writing them down, I realized what they meant.
Salta.
Elsilrac.
Lemrac.
I was a fucking idiot. No wonder the littles wanted them and Carmel— why they were so important to their plan. Slowly, I could feel myself start to crumble. The phone slipped from my clammy hands, but I could still hear the woman beginning an emergency shut down.
I didn’t feel the impact when my knees hit the ground, but I did start to sense something twisted and sour tickling the back of my nose and throat. By the time I had noticed it, it was already choking the bunker. But somehow, I didn’t care about the stars in my eyes or my own blood being projected onto my hands with every wet sounding cough exploding from my lungs. I could still hear their names, and every time I said each of them, more and more of me shattered.
Atlas.
Carlisle.
Carmel.
“18…”
“17…”
“16…”
“15…”
Laying on my back while my head spun, I was partially aware the boy’s screaming had cut off.
Instead, they were just sitting there, eyes wide and unseeing, the blankest I had ever seen them. There was so much blood running down their faces, and I imagined something rooted inside of them tearing their minds apart from the inside. Letting out another strangled cough, which was definitely biological warfare courtesy of the kids (not enough to kill, but definitely a warning not to fuck with them) my gaze flicked across the bunker, taking everything in. The paperwork we had been going through. The chair Rowan had been spinning around on. The ropes Harry’s arms had been entangled in. I was frowning at the walls, and then the ceiling.
“Please mind your head when you step down the stairs.”
Drinking in the words slowly, my cotton candy thoughts imploding into one blurry mess.
But then I was a little more awake, this time turning my gaze to the wall where the same sign had been taped to the wall. Please mind your head when you step down the stairs. And… there it was again, taped to the desk, and underneath the laptop. Hidden in plain sight. It had been there all along, and yet I only realised when I wasn't thinking about it, when my mind was being suffocated. Something seemed to snap inside of me, and I sat up, driven by pure adrenaline. With one hand pressed over my mouth and nose, I forced myself into a sitting position and dragged myself to Harry, whose head was lolled at an unnatural angle, his eyes closed.
Part of me wanted to smash up the phone, knowing what these bastards had done to their sleeper agents now they were no longer usable. The boy almost resembled a doll. Was this the so-called sleeper which had been planted inside Redwood? Empty eyes, empty everything. He was like a shell with a human face. No better than Eleanor's experiments.
When I grabbed hold of his arms, I had to hold him steady, his body cut from these puppet strings which had held him. “Harry.” I could barely speak, my voice more of a croak. I knew he was awake and aware, but a singeing, almost burning smell was coming from directly inside his head as blood ran from his nostrils in shades of red and pink. Now I knew what the burning was when I pressed my face against his and sucked in a lungful of poisoned air. It was him. He was a defect being set alight from the inside. “You need to look at me, okay?”
When he didn’t, instead crumbling in my arms, I struggled to hold him upright. Twisting my head to Rowan, he seemed in a better state—kind of. At least he was still sitting straight.
My last words were barely audible. “Please mind your head when you step down the—” no sooner had the words left my mouth before the sounds of footsteps coming from above, the unmistakable murmur of giggling getting closer and closer. Harry dropped to the ground like he had been severed from his puppet strings.
I wasn’t aware when I slipped to the floor, whatever had filled my lungs finally taking its toll. Through flickering eyes, I could see our barricade being blown through, the ground rumbling beneath me, throwing me into something warm.
Rowan.
His body was curled up against the wall, haemorrhaging from the ears.
It was only when I was truly taking in the stink curling in the back of my nose and throat as Eleanor Summer’s mechanical grin popped out of nowhere, when I realized I had smelled it before. I had choked on it before. The circle of kids looming above me let out a shrill squeak of, “Found you!” while I found the dark, and beyond that, a memory I thought was a dream.
Firelight flickered in the backs of my eyelids. The blur of orange and shadowy smoke was mesmerising. I stared real hard at the fire like I was told to, at smouldering shades of yellow and orange colliding, thick black smoke billowing into the air while our faces illuminated the circle. I tightened my grip on my beer, swallowing another mouthful. It was cheap shit, but had just enough burn to get me tipsy. I felt good at that moment. Relaxed.
My head was starting to spin, but it was the good spinning, like I was going round and around on a carousel. I wasn't sure why I felt apprehension at the moment.
It was just a game, right? So, why did I want to jump up and go home? Why did I want to squeeze my eyes shut? Milo's words rattled in my skull as I squinted into the fire. "Come forth, those who are no longer with us." Ghosts weren't real, I thought dizzily. They couldn't be.
Not when science and logic existed. However, when the flames began to grow increasingly more erratic, I couldn't resist leaning forward, and... there. Something warm crept its way up my throat.
There was a shadow twisted in the smoke, a very human-like thing stepping directly from the trees, from the hollowed darkness I had been too scared to fully take in-- finding solace in flickering and illuminated sparks spitting from the fire. The others started to murmur to each other as the thing took a step out of the trees. Clea shuffled back with a cry, and Milo and JJ turned twin shades of sickly pale. It was a guy.
Older, by maybe a year. Shaggy reddish hair tied into a loose ponytail. His clothes were a simple leather jacket and jeans, but looking at his face, he was bruised, every part of him exhausted and battered. His eyes, when I caught them, were nothing but twin pools of oblivion glaring back at us.
"Holy fuck." Milo hissed out. “I didn't think that would actually work!" Downing his beer, he whooped. "Alright! Name, age, occupation, and..."
His lips quirked into a grin. "How you died, man!”
The guy inclined his head, his mouth curling into the start of an amused smile. "I'm not a ghost, Jackass."
His British accent was jarring.
"And?" Milo leaned back, crossing his legs. "Play along, bro. Or I call the cops and tell 'em a grown ass man is fucking with some minors."
"But he looks our age," Clea hummed. "And he's kinda cute."
"I don't give a fuck," Milo's eyes were hard. "State your truth, or I get my dad on the line."
The guy rolled his eyes, raising both arms like he was surrendering. "Samuel Joseph Wilder," he surprised me by responding. Now that I looked at him, this guy definitely was not dead. Unless dead people carried a gun latched to their belt, and a cheap iPhone sticking from their jeans pocket. "Nineteen years old." He shrugged. "I guess you could say I'm an ex-student."
He paused, and I caught emotion flicker across his face, his hands balling into fists. "I was killed– no, murdered, by my town."
Milo leaned back, cracking open another beer and taking a sip. Clea leaned closer to him, her eyes wide. “Playing along, huh? I like it. State your truth."
The guy nodded, lowering his arms. His dark eyes flicked to each of us, drinking all of us in. “I just escaped from a secret government facility doubling as a summer camp which has converted half of my town’s kids into mindless super soldiers.”
There was a pause, before Clea burst into nervous giggles. Milo cocked his head. “I said state your truth, not plagiarise The Hunger Games.”
Ignoring Milo, the guy turned his eyes to me. "Josie Greenfield?" He took a step forward before seemingly deciding against it. I didn't move or speak, my heart in my throat. I didn't have to reply. This strange boy continued, his lips curling. "You're going to die tonight, Josie."
At that moment, I realized why I had been feeling nauseous all night. Why my mind had been anticipating something all day, and why, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't brush off his words. Maybe part of me was expecting this.
The stranger's tone was too cold to ignore, the state of him too real to brush off as a joke.
Suddenly, it was just me, him, and fate itself glaring down on us, my life as I knew it exploding into nothing in the charred remains of the dying fire.
His voice echoed in my head, collapsing into white noise, when I noticed how truly inhuman he looked. I fully took him in, illuminated in firelight. "If you don't get the fuck out of this town, you are going to have the same fate as me."
…
I’m going to go out on a whim and say it’s… not 2018 and I’ve been at Camp Redwood for way longer than I realized?

Laying in bed, my hand rested on my bump. How did I end like this? Demonic and pregnant, that very statement sounding like a cheap movie title. Demy slumbered next to me, the day was ours to be had. Demy promised me a date today, and I suppose I should take it. Swinging my feet over the edge of the bed, a black box waited for me. Opening the top, my breath was stolen from me. Golden lace sparrows flew over a scarlet rockabilly dress, my shaking fingers pulling it out. Holding it to my body, the measurements were exact to me. The mattress creaked as Demy sat up, the morning sun bathing his handsome features.
“Do you like it? I ordered it a couple of weeks ago. Hopefully, it will fit.” He yawned groggily, rubbing his eyes. “I also ordered new jeans for you, considering that they won’t fit eventually. Try it on.” Tugging on my snug bra, the dress fit perfectly. Loving the way the skirt floated away from me, Demy was already dressed in a simple black dress shirt and dark jeans. His casual look threw me off, a scythe charm dangled off of his wrists. Staring at him with pure bewilderment, he tugged his hair into a neat man bun. Shrugging his shoulders, he sauntered over to me. His hungry eyes devoured me.
“I like it very much.” I stammered with a fluttering heart. Wrapping his arm around the small of my waist, his lips pressed against mine passionately. Arching my body towards him, time stopped once more. Why did this keep happening! Releasing me from his spell, his forehead pressed against mine.
“I forgot to tell you that I can disguise myself. Now I look like an albino goth.” He explained playfully, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “Let me fix your hair.” Brushing through it, he twisted it into a simple side braid. Kicking over my boots, he kissed my forehead while I slid on my boots. Spinning around the room, he swung me underneath him. Smothering me in kisses, he placed me on his back. Walking downstairs, we burst out onto the busy street. People smiled at us as he took every turn to an abandoned mansion. Vines had claimed the red brick, the metal porches barely hanging on.
“I bought it for us.” He proclaimed proudly, placing his hands on his hips. “I thought it was time we got a place of our own. What do you think?” Tears welled up in my eyes, my hand falling on my bump. He didn’t have to, my other hand clenching into a tight ball. Glancing up at the top window, a lone female spirit floated in her flowing nightgown. Cocking my head, shadowy hands ripped her back. Bursting through the front door, dust covered the water damaged walls. Sprinting upstairs, my fingers curled around my staff. The stairs creaked dangerously underneath my boots, a jump in the air saving me from a painful fall as the steps crumbled. Landing on the metal railing, my boots clanged against the metal with every step. A ghost was in trouble, the scene shifting around me. Demy caught up to me, the inside of the house rewinding back in time. Pristine walls with ornate wallpaper greeted me, Demy letting out a long sigh.
“We are trapped in another time bubble.” He groaned to himself, rubbing his forehead. “We know the only way out is to kill the ghost who brought us here. This bubble reeks of something else though. Can you smell the sulfur?” Sniffing the air, he wasn’t wrong. Hiding me underneath the staircase, my breath hitched at his body pressed against mine. A man with chocolate brown hair and caramel eyes landed inches from us, blood pouring from his eyes. A child’s scream snapped me from my horror filled trance, a thirteen year old girl ran by us with her long brown waves flying behind her. A shadow figure chased after her, a jagged blade sliding through her chest. Watching the ruby drops hit the floor, the worn wooden handle became stained with her blood. Dropping to the floor, her hand reached for me. The demon snapped its head towards us, rows of bloody fangs clicked together. Spinning his blade in his palm, his wrist flicked abruptly, Demy’s back caught the blade, his scythe charm glowing red hot. Pushing the knife out with his muscles, the charm grew to its full size. Ravens cawed behind him, the bracelet turning back into his top hat. Scarlet flames twisted with golden flames, the feathers floating behind me. Cocking his head back, crazed laughter burst from his lips.
“You are going to have to find me first.” He taunted cruelly, clapping his hands. “I will never let you claim my home.” Demy narrowed his eyes in his direction, the annoyance disappearing into the floor. Coming out of our hiding spot, jazz music played outside. Creeping around the corner, my flames died down for a second. A pile of bright yellow liquid coated the spot he went through, Demy crouching down to examine it.
“He is ancient.” He grumbled under his breath, his kind gaze watched me take in the information. “The brighter the sulfur the older they are.” Feeling stupid for not understanding him, the solution wasn’t obvious to me. Shifting uncomfortably, no words came to the tip of my tongue. The ghost of the girl floated over to me, tears flowing endlessly down her cheeks. Her hair floated up behind her, her quaking hands gripping her ragged nightgown. Her milky eyes met mine, surprise rounding her eyes at my outreached hand.
“We are going to get rid of him for you. Unfortunately, I don’t think I can free you because of the whole murder thing. Maybe we can find your father.” I offered sincerely, her icy hands cupping mine. “We can turn on the television for you every now and then. I’ll even cook your favorite foods so you can smell them. The one thing you have to do is help me out. Can you do that?” The spirit of the father floated around the corner, his snow white hair danced wildly. Fixing his mustache, his milky eyes fell on us. Dusting off his suit, he cleared his throat. Holding out his hand, I gave it one good firm shake.
“I am Mr. Smillet and that is my daughter Milly. We would love to help you.” He introduced himself politely, ruffling his daughter’s hair. “Unfortunately, we can’t leave because of an eternal curse on the land but your idea sounds lovely. Let’s make this place a home once more.” Floating through the floor, his head popped up through the center of the hole.
“This is going to sound backwards but he is in the attic.” He chirped warmly, pulling himself out. “We will lead the way.” Walking past the photos of them, the nineteen twenties raged outside. Stopping at the attic door, they took a step back. Thanking them silently, we pushed the door open. Pressing our backs against the wall, the stairs creaked with every step. Glancing behind me, the door slammed shut behind us. The only light flickered, my heart seconds from beating out of my chest. Pop! A sea of darkness swallowed us, cold breezes lashing our cheeks. Summoning my flames, my heart sank into the pit of my stomach at his face inches from mine. Slamming my heel into his chest, he smashed into the wall. Climbing the stairs, I kicked a pile of boxes down the stairs. Spinning my scythe over my head, balls of flames whipped in his direction. Stopping them before they hit him, he raised his hand over his head. Hundreds of those damn daggers spun over his head, my metal feathers destroying them upon impact. Snapping his fingers, cold hands smashed through the floorboards. Slicing my palm on an exposed nail, Demy seemed to be dealing with his own problems. Smearing my hand on the wall, the scent was enough for me to summon my pets. Whistling sharply, the attic door rattled violently. Wet snarls echoed on the other side, my three pets taking him down to the ground. Pulling his gun from his pocket, Demy towered over the howling demon. Pressing his gun to his forehead, his finger tugged on the trigger. His bullet burst from the end, his body decaying to ash. My pets bounded up to me, their tails wagging a mile a minute. Rubbing their bellies, they melted into puddles.
“Who are good doggies!” I spoke with my dog mom’s voice, tongues licking my face left and right. The time bubble still remained, my eyes narrowing. Something felt off, a glowing orb bounced in the corner. Walking over to it cautiously, the ball of light floated into my clammy palm. Tears welled up in my eyes, the spirit was her mother. The real reason the time bubble existed was because of her, her soul purpose had been served. She stayed behind to protect them, one more thing stopping her.
“I need you to promise to take care of them.” She spoke gently, the orb floating in the air. “I can’t stay here because I dragged myself outside of the property line. I need to know that they will be okay.” Drops of light hit the floor, sobs bounced off the wall. Demy embraced me from behind, his chin resting on my head. Flashing the orb with his crooked grin, the drops of light slowed to a halt.
“We vow to give them a lovely afterlife. I was thinking we could give them the attic.” He promised sincerely, kissing the top of my head. “We can furnish the space as they wish. Then they can hang out with us downstairs. How does that sound?” Thinking for a minute, the orb floated into the sky. The time bubble glitched, a dusty attic greeting us. Pressing my palm to the splintered floor, a bright light blinded us. Covering his eyes, the light died down. Pristine floors brushed against my palm, a neat bedroom pleased me. The simple furniture would do, a picture of the girl's family hung on the wall. Running downstairs, the two spirits waited on the other side of the door. Opening the door for them, I motioned for them to go on up. Gasps of wonder bounced off the wall, my eyes scanning the scarlet walls. The hall seemed empty, my fingers tracing the one ancient mirror. Demy’s jaw dropped, my finger picking it up.
“If I can heal living things I can bring inanimate objects back to life.” I bragged with a wide grin, poking it to see if it was real. “I didn’t think I could do this well. We do have to get some furniture though. I could only manifest theirs because it had existed at one point. Do you like it?” Parting his lips to speak, a distraught woman sprinted in. One of our marks entered the hall, I put my foot out. Not seeing my foot, his face smashed onto the floor. Pressing my staff into his back, he put his hands up. The silky onyx hair contrasted the restored wooden floors, my three dogs surrounding him.
“If you move a fucking muscle you'll become dog chow.” I snapped hotly, flaming feathers hovered over him. “Tell me why you were cha-” My face dead panned at my former colleague charging at me with a haunted expression. Grabbing her by the arm, I tossed her over my head. The floor groaned in protest, the boards repairing themselves. Examining her closer, her eyes were ruby. Her lilac waves cascaded down her back, the white frilly Lolita dress hugged her petite body. A diamond collar sparkled on her neck, my eyes falling on the inky stain spreading on the white lace. Sniffing the air, I let them both go. A nasty bugger limped down the hall, a curved lilac blade quivered in his sludgy back. Demy raised his scythe, his ravens cawing behind him. Harsh winds blew our hair around, my flames roaring to life. Crouching down to their level, I yanked both of the heads up by their hair.
“If I help you, you join my army. No ifs, and or buts.” I barked sternly, the two of them nodding. “Sit back and watch the show.” Resting against the wall, her master fussed over her. Spinning my staff over my head, flaming feathers landed in the body. Demy leapt over my head, his scythe cutting into the body. The demon roared, horror rounding our eyes as it absorbed our power. Opening up its mouth, a wall of lilacs blocked its path. An idea came to mine, the flames of the burning lilacs illuminating my features.
“We need to hit it with everything we have.” I whispered so it wouldn’t hear, bewildered expressions meeting my determined grin. “You have trust in me.” Allowing my powers to build up at the top of my staff, Demy’s pure power built at the end of his scythe. Swinging our weapons at the same time, a rush of hot air blew our hair back. Taking the mirror off the wall, I held it in front of us. Let’s see how much power he could take. Demy held me by my hips in preparation for the impact. Absorbing the power as I had planned, a beam of our power slid us back a few feet. The beam hit him, the cracks beginning to form on his skin. Absorbing the doubled energy, he blasted the mirror again. The frame creaked, the beam striking the mirror once more. Demy held me down with all of his strength. The game of tennis continued until the energy decayed him into a pile of ash. Lowering the mirror, the house repaired itself. Demy huffed behind me, his arm spinning me around. Kissing me hungrily, he seemed grateful that I was alive. Crouching down to her level, Demy’s top hat absorbed his scythe and ravens.
“Where is she wounded? I won’t hurt her. I want to heal her.” I assured him kindly, the fellow demon taking a step back. “Do you mind?” Lifting up her dress, a nasty spike stuck out of her back. Ripping it out, she cussed like a sailor. Hovering my hand over the gaping wound, her muscle fused back together. Watching her skin patch itself, a nasty scar throbbed underneath my touch. Demy kicked her blade over, her trembling fingers gripping the worn leather hilt with raw terror.
“You must be Davidos Darth and Lilac Mattson. These two defected a couple of years ago.” Demy explained calmly, the petite woman embracing me graciously. “They were just hunted down by one of her sludgy monsters. The Golden Lion must be after you. The question is why.” A two year old girl peeked out from around the corner, her lilac waves grazing the floor. A white summer dress floated away from her body, her ruby eyes falling on me. A bright smile illuminated Lilac’s purple lips, the girl’s purple lips curling into a matching smile.
“Mommy!” She cried out, Lilac tossing me to the floor as she caught her daughter. “I am glad you are safe. I hid in my invisibility bubble like you told me too. Who is the pretty lady?” Crouching down to her level, I held out my hand.
“I am Scarlet Deaclon, your mother’s best friend. How do you feel about living here? Is that alright with your mother?” I inquired sweetly, her face lighting up. “I can’t have you guys running like that. I will put a protection spell on the house if it makes you feel better. Us defectors have to stick together.” Silent tears stained Lilac’s cheek, Davidos seemed seconds from crying.
“Seriously, I can’t have you guys on the street. Fight with me and we can have a miniature family.” I continued jovially, ruffling the girl’s beautiful hair. “I can also babysit if you need it.” Lilac began to sob, several fresh cuts and bruises caught my eyes.
“Why are you being so nice?” She wept softly, wiping away her tears. “I don’t deserve it. We left in s-” Putting my hand in the air, confusion mixed with sadness. Cupping her face, she quaked underneath my touch.
“She is the best reason to leave.” I comforted her kindly, my three dogs bounding up to the little girl. “Don’t worry they don’t bite. What’s her name?” Oreo, Stripes, and Darkness smothered her in love, the girl's giggles twinkled in the air. The four of them played as Davidos helped Lilac to her feet, Demy pacing back and forth. An irritated growl rumbled in his throat, a hand on his shoulder calming him down. He had to know that we needed allies, his lips brushing against the top of my head. Fishing around his pocket, a worn pocket knife sat in my palm. Cutting the blade across my palm, my eyes watched the blood pool. Drawing a powerful protection spell on the wall, the house rattled the moment I slammed my palm onto the wall. A golden dome hummed to life around the house. Mouthing a silent spell, five necklaces appeared in my palms. Golden feathers dangled off of the golden chains, no words being said as I passed them out.
“These will protect you when you leave the house.” I informed them with my real smile, dropping the necklace over the little girl’s head. “This should increase your ability to become invisible.” Clearing her throat, she stood in the attention position. Holding her head up high, Demy grinned at her proud stance.
“I am Lavender.” She introduced herself boldly, cupping my hands. “I vow to be your ally.” Chuckling softly to myself, my hand fell to my stomach absentmindedly. Hoping my kid was this awesome, hope glittered in her eyes. Demy spun me on my heels, placing my necklace over my head. Hooking his elbow in mine, he glanced back with concern.
“We are going to pick up some grub. Is pizza okay?” He asked with his crooked grin, their heads nodding. “We will be right back.” Guiding me out the door, our neighbors stared at us long and hard. Waving to them, they waved back awkwardly. Letting the moonlight bathe me, he spun me around. Holding me by the small of my waist, scarlet colored my cheeks.
“Did you see that adorable little girl? Do you think ours will be as awesome?” He mused playfully, kissing my lips feverishly. A goofy look dawned on my face, the feather necklace I made glittered on his shirt. Following my gaze, he fiddled with the magical charm.
“I would be a fool not to wear what my wife made for me.” He continued happily, his hand sliding down to my slight bump. Getting onto his knees, his lips brushed against the surface. Hugging my bump, a deeper crimson rose to my cheeks. People watched with warm smiles, the older couples holding each other tighter. Rising to his feet, he hooked his elbow in mine. Making me feel like the lead in a romance novel, pride swelled in his eyes. Walking me to the local pizza place, a warmth came over me. A shadow figure darted in the distance, the serenity leaving my mind. What the hell was that?

So there are a lot of YouTube and articles about LMH vs. LMDh but most of them left me with more questions than answers. So in a nutshell here are the comparisons of the Hypercars at Le Mans this year.
In 2021 IMSA and WEC got together for “convergence” so that the top class at each could compete against each other. The top class in the WEC is LMH, Le Mans Hypercar. The top class in IMSA is LMDh, Le Mans Daytona and officially the “h” stands for ... h. So could be hypercar, or hybrid, or Harold for all I know. There are few other details like IMSA cars have to be a “US car brand” and WEC cars have to be “associated with a car brand” but we’ll skip over that stuff.
Chassis
The main difference is IMSA cars must have a spec chassis made by one of the approved LMDh manufacturers. Oreca, Dallara, Multimatic or Ligier. There will be no Orecas or Ligiers in this years race. They must all run the same spec transmission, 7-speed Xtrac. They must run a spec hybrid system made by Bosch.
LMH cars can make everything themselves from scratch.
Both have a minimum weight of 1,030 kg.
Engines
Purpose built by each manufacturer. Both regs say the engine design is completely free, then say they have to be four-stroke petrol engines producing a certain amount of power. So not completely free I guess.
The combined ICE and Hybrid must not exceed 500 kW (680 hp) but because the LMH cars aren’t running a spec hybrid system they have more freedom on how that number is achieved. So here they all are, numbers subject to BoP, sandbagging and manufacturers lying, so YMMV, literally:
LMH
Toyota GR010 Hybrid - 3.5 L Twin-Turbo V-6 rated at 500 kW (680 hp) and their own hybrid system rated at 200kW (268 hp) for a combined 700 kw(939 hp).
Glickenhaus SCG 007 LMH - 3.5 L Twin-Turbo V-8 rated at 507 kW (690 hp) from PIPO Moteurs (ya, I’d never heard of them either). No hybrid system.
Vanwall Vandervell 680 - 4.5 L naturally aspirated V-8 (from Gibson) 500 kW (680 hp). No hybrid system.
Peugeot 9X8 2.6 L Twin-Turbo V-6 rated at 500 kW (680 bp) and their own hybrid system rated at 200kW (268 bp) for a combined 700 kw(939 hp).
Ferrari 499P - 3.0 L Twin-Turbo V-6 rated at 500 kW (680 bp) and their own hybrid system rated at 200kW (268 bp) for a combined 700 kw(939 hp). (Seems like I’ve seen those numbers somewhere before.)
LMDh
Cadillac V-Series R – Chassis by Dallara - 5.5 L naturally aspirated V-8 rated at 500 kW (680 bp) and the Bosch hybrid system rated at 50kW (68 bp) for a combined 550 kw(738 hp).
Porsche 963 – Chassis by Multimatic – 4.6 L Twin-Turbo V-8 rated at 450 kW (612 bp) and the Bosch hybrid system rated at 50kW (68 bp) for a combined 500 kw(680 hp).

I’m not sure if this has been predicted yet or not but I feel like the ending of volume 3 is gonna end up being a setup by Grace (and maybe whoever Ivy’s partner was?) Cause the whole interactions with her leading up to the “surprise in bed” are real weird. Like “how do you want him to greet you?” wtf? It’s gonna be Grace getting back at MC for the Ozzy stuff or something. The resolution is gonna be like “oh your twin was helping the LI you like plan a surprise and that’s why they’re in bed”. It’s a stupid resolution but they’ve been pushing the twin thing hard so I don’t think they’d go the cheating route (yet). I think any resolution to this cliffhanger would be dumb tbh

Part 1
​
"Who are you?" I asked in a distant tone at Mr. Valentine. He had taken seat in the same place he had in my memories of the morning prior. He returned my look with his own piercing eyes.
"Vincent Valentine, of course. Why do you ask?" My head was spinning but my determination shined through with clear focus.
"Because I can't remember you. I can't remember a single thing I wrote about you in my essay. And last night-" He raised one of his boney fingers to silence me.
"It's been seven months since we first got in contact with each other. Memories fade. I understand that. Please have some breakfast and hopefully calm your nerves. You slept so long you nearly missed it."
I walked over to the far side of the kitchen and put my hand to my forehead. A clammy cold sweat had exuded from my skin from the very moment that I had woken up.
"You look abysmal. Maybe you're fighting off some jet lag. Lucas, bring the poor woman some lavender water." He looked towards the back of the room behind my shoulder and a voice responded.
"Yes Mr. Valentine."
"Please, sit down. The sun will cast off the shadows from that came from the night. And hopefully some of those shadows will be from the post travel jitters that you must be feeling. After all, I'd hate for you to leave before I have a chance to teach you anything." His eyes carried with them such genuine grace and that his look alone had put me at ease.
I sat down and glanced over to my breakfast. It was the same as the day prior.
The Butler Lucas had quickly brought me out a glass of lavender infused water. A pristine twig floated at the top irradiating the glass in a purple hue. I took a sip and slowly felt my fear wash away.
"I'm sorry Mr. Valentine. I think I had a rough dream last night." I watched the lavender sprout twirl around in the dull current of my glass.
"It's understandable. Visiting someplace new always comes with its sense of unease. It happens to the best of us." I heard my stomach growl to him in response. I felt my face turn a rose color as I began to feel silly over the whole thing. "By all means, eat to your hearts content. You'll need your strength for later tonight. We have another lesson scheduled."
I gave him a bitter sweet smile and began to eat my breakfast. It was a little colder today but all the same it tasted delicious. Mr. Valentine politely waited until I finished eating before he continued.
"I was thinking this afternoon you could spend some time in your room writing up a story for me. Tonight you can head over to my Den and read it. I'll help make it a little more authentic if I can." The elderly writer smiled and stood up from his table. "It's been a roller coaster of a wonderful morning. And the days just starting. I hope you begin to feel better soon." And with that he walked away leaving me alone with Lucas.
"Hey Lucas?" I asked, my voice feeling faint.
"Yes Madam?" He replied with his usual servile tone.
"Do you think you could make sure my door is locked tonight?" There was a slight twitch of Lucas's lips before he nodded to my request.
"Absolutely. We'll make sure to lock it up after your retreat inside. I hope the night servants didn't bother you last night." I couldn't bear to look up at the Servant. I continuously felt silly about the whole thing. Yet the visage of the Maid still haunted the dark corners of my mind.
I finished up my drink and took leave from the dining room. I thanked Lucas for the meal and headed upstairs to my chambers. The afternoon sun basked its earthly glow into the bedroom, caking the writers desk in a brilliant spotlight. I placed my journal on the desk and began writing. My story was that of a man trapped behind a windowless room. Each breath he took shrunk the room bit by bit until he was encased in the plaster, his last breath fatally sealing his final image into its plaster casing.
By the time I had finished the sun had already begun to set. I double and triple checked my work. Editing was never my strong suit but I'd be damned if I read an unpolished work in front of an accredited author. I wanted to make sure my story was as close to being as professionally crafted as possible.
Feeling just barely over the edge of content with my final draft, I had placed my writing pen down. I looked into my bedroom mirror and took in a deep breath. Dark circles had formed around my eyes and I looked exhausted. My stomach still in knots from the day prior. If anything it had only gotten worse with this newest task.
But still, I swallowed my worry down and tucked the book under my arm.
I went to open my door and to my thankfulness the knob twisted with ease and allowed me an exit. I silently stepped down the stairs trying not to impose my presence within the manor any more than I already had.
Within just a moment I had reached the hallway towards the den and I had felt that it had doubled in size since I had last seen it.
It was as if the home itself was challenging me. It demanded me to take the long walk down the aisle with the audience of ghastly portraits being my only company. Only to worsen those thoughts was the flashback visions of the endless halls that had occupied my nightmares the night before.
What should happen if I walked towards the Den only to discover more hallways at the end of it? Would it have led to another night of anxious retreat down the unending stone passages of the Manor? Would I have run until I awoke in a cold sweat once more?
I swallowed the thoughts away and stood up straight. If nothing else I would give those portraits something proper to watch. I could fake my belonging if nothing else.
Sure enough I felt the cast down eyes of the monsters and ghouls that had watched my every step. Even so I didn't let my eyes fall down. I just kept on moving my feet forward.
Tonight was the night I showed Mr. Valentine that I had promise within me. Tonight was going to be the first real night of my tutorage.
Thankfully, once I reached the end of the hallway of aberrant observers, I found myself basked in the calming red glow of the Wordsmith's Den. Mr. Valentine sat in front of his fireplace with a long iron prod in his hand. He carefully pushed against the logs to ignite the fires flames higher. The warmth that had billowed from the fireplace contrasted itself against the cold drafts that emanated from the stone walls.
"Hello Mr. Valentine. Sorry if I'm late. I just wanted to finish up some editing before coming down here." Mr. Valentine smiled, although he didn't turn to face me. I only saw half of his face. His elderly skin had had been cast brilliantly in the glow of the den's flames.
"You're never late here in the Wordsmith. Nor are you ever early." He leaned back in his leather chair, the fabric stretching underneath his weight despite his slender frame. "So what can I look forward to hearing tonight?"
I once more swallowed the nervous spit that formed inside my mouth and looked down at the journal in my hands. "We'll it isn't much but for an afternoons work I hope you can enjoy it." Mr. Valentine rested his shoulders back into his chair and made himself comfortable. His hands rested on his lap.
"Please, share it with me. Word for word if you wouldn't mind." His voice soothed the air around him. A fact which only caused me to feel just slightly more anxious. There was something otherworldly about how he managed to control a room. His very presence felt unobtainable to a normal mans.
But needless to say I complied to every wish he asked of me.
I regaled the story as best as I could. I spoke of the mans panic. How his claustrophobia made his breath more labored and erratic. A fact that had caused his situation to worsen faster, and faster. Eventually leaving him nothing more than an outline of a man surrounded in plaster and wood.
Mr. Valentine simply sat through the whole thing. Neither smile nor grimace to any word spoken. It wasn't until my final word that he nodded in acknowledgement.
"Very interesting story. It already felt a little more real than your others. What inspired you?" I felt my face go pale as my thoughts drifted back to the very feeling of entrapment I had experienced within the Manor. How I felt suffocated inside.
But I refused to admit that fact to the man I had so admired.
"I think the idea in general is something interesting to me. I don't know how else to explain it." Mr. Valentine let the silence wrap around us. The quiet of the moment lasted just long enough to give me the feeling that he knew I was withholding the full truth from him.
"I suppose that's one way of seeing things. Though I do hope you come to terms with expressing the real reality here.
"And that reality is you're slowly believing your own stories. What you see in your mind isn't just a figment of your own imagination. You've imposed emotions, thoughts, goals and aspirations onto the man in your story. And now that mans dead.
"You didn't kill him though. You simply watched and documented all the facts down into your journal. Just as any proper documentarian would do." A strong gust of air billowed down the hallway behind us and hit the fire mercilessly. The light of the flames had dimmed but Mr. Valentine didn't use his iron prod to spark it back up.
Instead he choose to embrace the now darkened room.
"Do you know what the biggest rule for Horror is?" The darkness seeped into every crack and pour of the old mans face as the fires embers died.
"It's that you should never place yourself in the story unless you are prepared to die. Anything else would simply be unbelievable." I felt the hair on my body stand on end. He said it with only the raspy cloak of a whisper yet it felt as though he was making a veiled threat towards my very person.
A threat made with such a certainty behind it that I couldn't defend myself against it.
"You brought another journal here didn't you? To catalogue your stay? I do hope you get the final words in it by the end of your stay." A second billow of wind cascaded over us that finally killed the last of the embers.
I sat in darkness for a moment. My body neither running nor fighting its way through my predicament. I was frozen in fear.
I heard the same stretching of leather coming from Mr. Valentines chair that I had heard earlier. His trail of footsteps slowly turned away from me and headed their way towards the hall. "What a wonderful night for a horror story." I heard his voice whisper. It carried its way straight into my ear canal as though he stood right behind me.
I waited until I heard his footsteps disappear down the hall. I forced my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting that the windowpanes had allowed through. I gripped my chair tightly before standing up. My legs had begun shaking but I forced myself to remember the confidence that I had shown when I first approached the Den.
'Don't let them see you scared' I thought to myself. I kept repeating it over and over again as I walked towards the hallway. I let my eyes stay glued ahead. But just for a moment. When I had nearly past the last portrait, I allowed a single glance.
My vision didn't show a grotesque creature but rather an empty landscape.
My heart dropped.
I swung myself around and looked towards the other paintings and sure enough, all of them were of empty fields and abandoned homes. Not a single face to be seen.
I broke my facade of strength and darted back down the hallway towards the foyer. I heard nothing more than a pin drop through the entire Wordsmith on my way. My footsteps had echoed across the deserted halls like the clattering of porcelain falling onto a marble floor.
I didn't care. I needed to get into my room.
And so I did.
I slammed the door behind me and looked at the handle more closely. There was no way for me to lock it from the inside.
Footsteps had begun to make their way up the staircase upon this realization. My eyes darted around the moonlit room for anything I could use to help seal this place off from the hell outside. But nothing had shown its face. I did the only thing I could have thought to do in that panic. I pressed my back to the door and pushed all my weight against it.
It wasn't until I heard the door lock from behind me that my body relaxed from it's tense stature. My body slid to the floor and I tucked my legs up to my chest. Once again I had felt like such a fool.
Why was it that my mind couldn't think straight? Why was it that whenever night fell my brain clouded itself in fear beyond any rational explanation?
My stomach twisted and cramped inside of me. I grabbed onto it and made myself stand up on my trembling legs.
With a stagger I headed towards the bed frame. My vision had begun to blur. The second I folded over on top of the bed sheets my mind went dark. The last thing I saw was one of the portraits staring down at me from my window.

I listened to the most recent episode yesterday and Em’a story about the Kinsella twins abduction was great. One part that stood out to me specifically was the part where one of the boys was returned to his bed and a Cheshire Cat like creature appeared to him. This INSTANTLY reminded me of E236 when Christine tells Em about an experience she had while falling asleep in which a Cheshire Cat like being came out of the wall and she felt unsafe, which lead to her blankets being pulled. I was just wondering if anyone else caught this possible synchronicity and if anyone wanted to discuss?

Stannis's propostion to Renly was ridiculous

Early warning - Stannis's fans will not like this.
Every one remembers the infamous parley at the Storm's End. However I doubt that every one has the same opinion on the conversation between the two brothers.
From what I gathered, many people believe that the terms which Stannis gave to Renly were very generous and Renly - being the spoilt kid he was, was to dumb to accept them.
I would like to ask those people one question - What are you guys smoking!!?
Generous? Generous?????????
In what world was this a generous proposition???
This proposition is similar to those made by most greedy fishmongers and shows that Stannis's awareness of the politics is even below that of Robb Stark.
I shall explain my reasoning but before this I would like to give some more information for context.

The strenghts of both parties

Let's start with Renly.
This guy had probably the biggest chance of winning the throne.
He was Lord Paramount of Strom Lands. He had the loyalty of most of his marcher lords, which had significant military power and was quite popular with the rest of his lords.
He was also married to Margaery Tyrell - daughter of Mace Tyrell Lotr Paramount of the Reach. With house Tyrell, Renly gained the loyalty of House Taryl, Rowan, Oakheart, Hightower, Fossoway and many more. House Redwyne was off limits because both sons of Paxter Redwyne - lord of Arbor - were hostages to Lannisters, but it was only the matter of time before Renly got the twins back.
So in conclusion, Renly had the biggest army, alliance which was more powerful than the STAB alliance (Stark - Tully - Arryn - Baratheon) and he would soon gain a great fleet. He had also the backing of some of the richest lords in the realm.
Now let's talk about Stannis.
His situation is rather unique. Except for the royal fleet he doesn't have much. And funnily enough it's all Robert's and Jon Arryn's fault. They gave him the Dragonstone and they made him marry Selyse Florent. Dragonstone is prestigious location but I think I don't have to say that prestige is asoiaf usually translates to useless. His marriage while in theory beneficial is also useless.
Florents are respected and have prestige but that's it. Many people like to repeat the books and wiki and say that Florents had the rights to Highgarden but the same can be said about Oakhearts, Redwynes and even Rowans. Stannis was married to them to make sure that Tyrells stay in line. However this marriage also guaranteed that Stannis will not have any funny ideas about usurping Robert.
Stannis is a skilled commander, thought I would call him a genius. His current situation in the books and his screw up at Blackwater bay proves my point.
To those who really want to argue with me, I would like to point out that the only people who are afraid of Stannis are Lannisters or to be more exact Tyrion and Cersei. That's because Kings Landing had no armies and poeple were starving and rioting. The capital would not would not resist a siege At the beginning of the books it was clear that Stannis had a chance of taking the city. Sure, it would be a pyrrhic victory and he wouldn't be able to hold the capital, but still he was still a very real danger. To Lannisters that is. Robb, Renly and even Greyjoys were stronger than Stannis and didn't have to worry about him.
So Stannis's situation was pretty much hopeless. The fact that Jon Arryn was planning on sending his son to "foster" to Stannis proves this. Jon knew that Stannis had zero to no power and he knew that he wouldn't live to see this war so he decided to give Stannis sweetrobin which guarantees him support of the Vale. Sadly that didn't work out.
So to sum this whole paragraph up, Stannis had little power while Renly had almost evrything. So if Stannis wanted to have any chance in this war he had to deal with his brother. Bearing this in mind let us go to another topic.

The "generous" propostion

So what did Stannis propose to Renly? He promised to name him his heir until his son is born and make him his hand.
That's it. If Stannis has a male heir, Renly will lose his position as the future king. And The Mannis expects Renly to just bend the knee. He even threatens him!
I will stop any comments that Stannis could win a battle with Renly under Strom's End. I can already see people writing entire essays on some hidden traps, logs, crows feet, wolf pits and other. Many of you expect that twenty thousand knights will simply charge at Stannis and will be destroyed proving once again the equality between the nobles and small folk and enacting a second Agincourt yada yada.
Firstly, Renly probably woundn't have chraged at the head of the army. He didn't have to, he had nothing to prove to his vassals. So he would command from the rear with lords who are experianced in warfare. Stannis is a great commander, but his reputation is overhyped in my opinion. He held Stroms End true but most of his fame comes from naval battles or from amphibious assults. He is a good commander but he isn't a genius. So I dare to say that commanders such as Randyl Tarly will be able to mach him in tactics.
With that out of the way let's return to this propostion. Stannis simply expects his borther to hand over everything with little in return. I will give this to Stannis, he is the eldest. The law is on his side, as many of his fans point out. However, I would like to point out that the entire world of asoiaf shows how little lords of Westeros actually care about the law. Bah! Robert's Rebellion shows this perfectly! The king was killed by his own kingsguard, the heir to the throne was killed by traitors in battle, and Targeryen princesess and future queen were murdered. And yet, the realms accepted Robert Baratehon as their rightful king.
Why?
Because the law can be influenced by the strongest. In the modern times this is harder but not impossible, more subtle means are used such as bribery or lobbying.
Stannis refuses to understand that his right means nothing, unless he has some strenght to bakc his claim and he doesn't have this power.
He goes to Renly, dictating terms as if he was already a king, while also threating his brother with his five thousand army. Meanwhile Renly smiles at him while being clad in a beautiful green armor, with fabulously armed knights, his twenty thousand army stands by behind him.
It's like mouse screaming at the amused lion.
Renly could bring him entire army of the south. The handship wasn't a gift for Renly, it was guaranteed to him. Who else would Stannis give the position for? Alester Florent? Davos Seaworth??
Besides Renly married Margaery and their family fully expected that their Rose of Highgarden will be the queen of seven kingdoms. They would never allow Renly to accept this deal and they had power to force their will on him
Despite all of this, Stannis could still win this in my opinion. As mentioned earlier he had one thing Renly didn't have. Legitimacy, which while ingored by most lords, was still quite valuable. He could use it to his advantage.
Though not in way he would hope.

Alternative proposition

Okay so what should have Stannis given Renly to get him on his side?
Handship goes to Renly without saying.
Titles and officed for the Tyrells - teeth grinding expected.
Rainbow Guard stays with Renly - I doubt that Stannis would even want them in the first place.
Renly becomes the facto co-ruler with Stannis
Stannis cedes the rights to Storm's End.
He allows small council to be filled with Renly's chosen men.
Proclamation that Tyrells are rightfull Lord of the Reach
​
Is this too much? Would Stannis be giving Renly waaaaaaaay to much power?
Yes
But he didn't have a choice.
The reality was that he was in a similar situation to Joffrey who gave all power to Tywin. Tywin had all the walth and the army so the Joffrey depended on his grandfather to stay on the throne.
Stannis had very little so he would have to give Renly a lot of his royal power to gain his support. And the worst part? The boons mentioned earlier are nothing. There is only one thing Stannis that could interest Renly.
Renly would become Stannis's heir.
How is it different from the original? Well simply. Renly would inherit the throne even if Stannis had a son. This is the only way Renly would support Stannis.
Some of you may argue that there would be no point to being a king if Stannis gave so much power to Renly, but I would answear that this is how game of thrones works. You don't always win everything.
Stannis could also accept Renly's offer which was actually generous. And I mean it without quotation marks. Renly didin't have to give his brother anything really. He was so powerful that the only danger to his power was Robb Stark. And yet he offered the castle to Stannis. Was it love, pity or some other intrigue I don't know, but his propostion was the one that was generous.

Now that my kids are both potty trained, we’re trying to travel more. Yet, it’s tough to find hotel rooms where each kid can have their own bed. I’d like my kids to start sharing the queen/double beds in our hotel rooms when we’re on vacation. They are currently 2 and 4, and on our next trip, over our youngest’s third birthday, I’d like them to share the double bed in the condo. Is this too young to share a bed or do other siblings these ages share when traveling? When home, these little girls have their own separate bedrooms with a twin bed in each.

Confident picks first 5 innings:
Phillies ML, Marlins ML, Bue Jays ML, Rangers ML, Angels ML, Giants ML
Value picks first 5 innings: Twins RL, Red Sox RL, Reds RL
Oveunder first 5 inning bets: diamondback/nationals o5.5, mariners/Padres u4, Astros/blue Jays u5, dodgers/reds o6, Mets/braves u5.
I highly recommend doing straight bets as well, especially for the Phillies and the Marlins.
ML = Moneyline RL = Runline
Good luck to all.
I'll post straight pitcheto record a hit props in a separate post.

Typically, when I see posts on how to play metal gear, there is a debate over whether one should play them in order of game release or chronological order.
I have a third option. One inspired by how some people watch the first six Star Wars movies.
It's goes: Metal Gear > Metal Gear 2: Solid Snake > Metal Gear Solid* > Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty > Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater >** Metal Gear Solid: Peace Walker > Metal Gear Solid V: Ground Zeroes > Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain > Metal Gear Solid 4: The Guns of the Patriots***
*(PSX or Twin Snakes)
**Metal Gear Solid: Portable Ops
***> Metal Gear Rising: Revengence
This way, the Big Boss centered games can act as a flashback arc to give context for events MGS4.

It started around 2013 when my wife noticed that her sister was all of a sudden losing weight but had a very strong appetite. We realized that she was throwing up after she ate food. And she would lie and say she didn’t but we could hear her gagging and sometimes she didn’t clean properly after so their would be signs. Eventually she admitted it when everyone noticed and her mom who is over dramatic started buying her all types of medicine from Mexico and anywhere she could cause my sis in law wouldn’t just tell her she was doing it on purpose. So over 3 years she was taking medication without a doctors prescription. So she ended up with Gerd and esophagus issues from throwing up. Well around 2016 her period got worse and that’s when they said she had endometriosis and in 2018 she had surgery. During that time her parents went over and beyond to cater to her which is valid as it’s their child. But I think it created a monster. After the surgery she literally told everyone that she almost died and that she’s lucky to be alive and that she is still healing. She even calls her surgery date the anniversary and every year she reminds us that that is the day we almost lost her. So today currently I’m 2023 shes 32 and she does not work. She carry’s teddy bears around all day and she will not eat a home cooked meal. Her parents have to buy her Starbucks every day sometimes twice and she eats Panera or chic Fil a everyday. She says it’s because the endometriosis won’t let her eat anything else and her stomach is in knots. She’s also self diagnosed allergic to grass and many more things. When they do force her to see a doctor she snaps when the doctors say they cannot find anything physically wrong. She’s my wife twin and I hurt for my wife cause she says she has no idea who this person is. Is this normal ?
Short Version - SIL blames endometriosis for all her mental issues.

Obviously didn’t get it all, but some main points touched on that I thought were interesting
• calls their relationship a full blown affair • says Sandoval needs to “lose his ego” •Schwartz feels terrible about everything •Schwartz had an “intense” year - health issues with his dad, one of the twins was diagnosed with cancer and another had to go to rehab. •says he was so self involved at the time that everything that was happening with Sandoval and Rachel was easy to ignore • Sandoval was telling him Ariana treats him like shit and that was his excuse •he thinks it’s “vile” that Sandoval has been blaming Ariana for his actions •he says people have a misconception that his life resolves around Sandoval and that’s not true •says he was never coached by Sandoval going into the reunion •he 100% found out after Scheana’s wedding •says wedding kiss was not a decoy but it was innocent and he regrets hurting katie with it •he knows the first time T + R hooked up was in a car in front of Tom and Ariana’s •he thinks they never stopped the affair or took a break like they say •has no idea the big reveal, but agrees it’s likely timeline related •his current status with katie is that he still loves her as a person but is not in love with her. Says they are cordial but mostly living separate busy lives. •he does think he was used by Sandoval and his niceness was taken advantage of •says Tom and Ariana always had buffer people around them •Sandoval definitely lied to him and was telling him different stories •BIG BEAR: says Tom was selfish to bring rachel, Tom has a “RABID DOG” like lust for her and as a result has put a lot of his friends in uncomfortable situations over it •Tom and Tom went to big bear first and then Sandoval dropped a bomb and said “I want to bring you know who” and then rachel and Jo shows up. Says he didn’t see Rachel much of the trip and she had to hide in the hotel •big bear is when things changed for Schwartz •he is single and NOT ready to mingle. He likes Jo a lot but isn’t ready for another relationship •he does wish he put more pressure on Sandoval to come clean or gave him an ultimatum •Sandoval has apologized to Schwartz several times •Schwartz didn’t know that Tom has been changing the lyrics to his songs on tour to make light of everything. He let out a huge sigh when he heard. •he’s happy Ariana is thriving • 1/2 Xanax in his system at reunion •he does feel resentful of Tom and is taking a break from their friendship •Ariana does not talk to him and he doesn’t blame her •Sandoval texted Brittany for the first time since 2020 last week and said he was performing a show in KY and could get any of her friends or family tickets to the show if they wanted to come see him. •him and Sandoval don’t talk, he doesn’t know if he’s still involved with rachel • online has been really intense for him •he thinks the show will come back