Ozark trail hammock chair

LMG sold to Maxwealth Infinity for P402-M; MPI still vetting valuation firms; BHI revealing strategy in sad mini-series; May '23 inflation down, prices just as high; REDC reschedules IPO for July 24; DD used AI to design a banig (Thursday, June 8)

2023.06.07 21:05 MerkadoBarkada LMG sold to Maxwealth Infinity for P402-M; MPI still vetting valuation firms; BHI revealing strategy in sad mini-series; May '23 inflation down, prices just as high; REDC reschedules IPO for July 24; DD used AI to design a banig (Thursday, June 8)

Happy Thursday, Barkada --

The PSE gained 85 points to 6565 ▲1.3%

Thanks to Kristoffer Notario for the positive feedback on the new index look ("Ang linis"), to Ralph Dollente for the context on the MPI valuation, to kalelManila.eth for the speculation on RSA's "follow the money" trail (leading to Aeroport?), to Jing for finding the Nestle logo that looked a lot like my SPNEC meme, and to all of the Barkadans that wished me a swift recovery from "jetlag with a toddler". Haha, as you'd expect, the toddler is doing way better than the parents!
Huge thank-you and shout-out to Francis Josef Salmo, 2nd Officer of the Maestro Sun, for writing in to say that he and his crewmates use some of their limited daily connectivity to download and read Merkado Barkada as a way to get some PSE news! That was a really humbling note to receive. I raise this mug of coffee to you, Francis, and the crew of the Maestro Sun!
Shout-outs to cristinaorlina, ***, Jonathan Burac, Arnold Li, Pao, Justn, mArQo, Stephen Chiong, Dividend Pinoy PGG, Palaboy Trader, CHARToons, Bien EC, KingArk, LanAustria, Lance Nazal, arkitrader, Chip Sillesa, Evolves Capital, Inc., and Jing for the retweets, and to Evolves.co, Jayvee Menil, and Mike Ting for the Facebook shares.

In today's MB:

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▌Main stories covered:

  • [NEWS] LMG Corp sold to Maxwealth Infinity for ₱402-M... LMG Corp [LMG 3.35 suspendedl] [link] shocked the market with news that it signed a share purchase agreement with Maxwealth Infinity Holdings (MIH) that will see MIH take a 67% stake in LMG for ₱402 million (₱3.10/share). MIH is a holding company owned and chaired by Alfonso Huang (company website), who is also the President of e-pon, an e-money app. MIH was founded in 2021, MIH has investments in “various financial and information technology companies”, but its website reveals an additional interest in real estate development and entertainment. The disclosure said that MIH made the LMG purchase with the intent to “invest in the hospitality industry and the construction industry”, and that it will “expand the portfolio of [LMG] to include the operating subsidiaries of [MIH].” The disclosure said that LMG and MIH intend to complete the tender offer and close the transaction within 60 days.
    • MB: This one was truly surprising to me, both because LMG is a sleepy stock and because I have no idea who Maxwealth Infinity is. The name sounds like any of the thousands of Facebook groups that ply scam financial advice, so I’m glad that the disclosure specifically said that Maxwealth “does not solicit, accept, or take investments/placements from the public”. My quick due diligence on the company didn’t turn up much of substance either. Their website reads like a try-hard resume cover letter, filled with bland fluffer words like “impact”, “contribute”, “strategic”, “enriching”, and “potential”. A media scan turns up a paid promo piece about Mr. Huang, and a story about MIH donating sacks of rice to typhoon victims. The MIH career page shows that they’re hiring eight positions for their Taguig office, all posted three days ago. It’s not really clear what MIH is, what it’s done, or what it plans to do. I can’t help but feel SquidPay vibes, but I hope that it’s more tangible and substantive than that.
  • [UPDATE] MPI still searching for a valuation firm... Metro Pacific [MPI 4.42 ▼0.9%; 83% avgVol] [link] Chairman, Manny V. Pangilinan, recently said that the MPI Consortium was still in the middle of a process to find an acceptable firm to perform the valuation to act as the basis of the MPI Consortium’s tender offer price. MVP said that they’ve been “given a list of accredited firms”, and that there are “probably only two” on that list that do not have the kind of conflicts that would come from working with another company in the MVP-led group of companies in the past. MVP said that he’s had “indirect” talks with some of the larger shareholders (SSS and GSIS), revealed that those groups had negative feedback on the initial price, but would not commit to a higher price being the likely outcome of the next valuation.
    • MB: Aside from the whole “valuations are weird” angle and the fact that MPI is too sophisticated to have been caught by surprise about the potential accreditation of the first valuation firm it used, I’m mostly disappointed that it feels like MPI might already be losing that brief period of intense swagger. MPI has been a sleepy giant for most of my investing life, so it was pretty shocking for it to suddenly jolt to life and start making aggressive moves into the agricultural sector. There was the Axelum [AXLM 2.48 ▼2.4%; 5% avgVol] stake, then the announcement of the massive agricultural facility, and don’t get me started about that SP New Energy [SPNEC 1.46 unch; 0% avgVol] deal! My point is that MPI was rewriting its narrative in real-time while demonstrating the agility and nerve of a company with a clear vision for a future filled with big bets and growth. Where did that energy go? I want more of that green corporate raider energy, and less of this sleepy corporate bureaucracy drama.
  • [NOTES] Quick takes from around the market...
    • Boulevard Holdings [BHI 0.08 ▲2.5%; 165% avgVol] [link] appeared to signal that it will be suspended for a while and that it has decided to spend this time releasing a mini-series of disclosures to explain the development strategy for each of the company’s “major assets”, its “significant land parcels”, and its “cash hoard”. The most recent disclosure started with its Fridays Siargao location.
      • MB Quick Take: This is such a weird look that I don’t even know where to start. Dripping info to shareholders gives off massive “long suspension” vibes, but it also manages to give off “we are just making it up as we go along” vibes. If you know the strategy now, why not tell us now? I don’t know if I can beat the BHI dead horse any longer, though. BHI, more like “Belated Hypothesizing Inc”, amirite?
    • Philippine Statistics Authority (PSA) [link] revealed that the May 2023 Consumer Price Index reading was 120.9, which was 6.1% higher y/y. The rate of inflation in April was 6.6%, based on a CPI reading of 120.9.
      • MB Quick Take: Keen readers will notice that the actual CPI measurement was the same between April and May, meaning that the actual level of prices didn’t change at all from month to month. The only thing that changed was that April 2022’s CPI reading was lower because it was at the start of the long and intense price inflation period we saw throughout FY22. Remember: inflation might go down, but (generally) prices won’t.
    • Repower Energy Development [REDC 5.00 pre-IPO] [link] provided an updated IPO schedule after it had previously paused the listing process to take on a significant anchor investor from Japan. The new pricing date is June 23, with an offer period from June 28 through July 14, and a listing ten days later on July 24.
      • MB Quick Take: It looks like the bones of the offering are the same (230 million shares for ₱5.00/share, with 87% primary), but investors are going to want to pay close attention to the updated prospectus that we should get once the price has been set. Will REDC share any information about the anchor investor, and is the anchor investor the type that provides any strategic advantages for REDC going forward? Energy stocks are hot, but IPOs have been terrible for investors lately. Will REDC’s pricing take the recent performance into account to entice more retail investors to take a look?
    • DoubleDragon [DD 7.20 unch; 19% avgVol] [link] said that its 548-room Hotel101 in Cebu is 100% sold-out 21 months after it started the pre-sale process, and 12 months before its project completion date. DD also took the time in this disclosure to let us know about how this location will be the first to “adopt” the “AI designed Hotel101 Banig accent design”.
      • MB Quick Take: I don’t know how I feel about DD name-dropping AI as the designer of a banig. Well, that’s not true, I know how I feel about it, but I guess I’m just not sure how DD anticipated that we’d feel about it? Because that’s hilarious. This was meant to show that Hotel101 would “always stay ahead of the curve in technological advances”, but I think its inclusion sends the opposite message.
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2023.06.07 20:51 Downtown_Statement87 That time that I was the Backwoods Creepy.

OK. First, you must know that, 30 years ago, from age 17-22, I did a lot of crystal meth. I know what you're thinking, but it wasn't like that. I was extremely high functioning. I graduated from college magna cum laude with a double major in Russian and Religion, and held down a complicated job. I was the youngest person at my university ever inducted into Phi Beta Kappa, which people tell me is really something. I was asked to represent my university by speaking at academic conferences.
I didn't do meth to cope with how busy I was. I did all of the above because I had so much extra time thanks to the meth, and decided to fill it by learning the Russian language. All of it. In one night.
I lived a VERY schizophrenic existence. No one would have believed by looking at me that I was a pretty hard-core meth user, and mainly hung out with strippers and bikers who were much older than I. Here is what I looked like back then, when I took a break from doing meth to hang out at a coup. https://robinwhetstone.blogspot.com/2015/10/searching-for-dmitri.html?m=1
Back in Gainesville, I had a group of associates (drug addicts often don't have "friends") whose favorite thing to do was get really high and go out to Paynes Prairie (PP) at midnight. PP is a unique natural feature in north-central Florida. It's a vast grassland ringed by dense, spooky live-oak hammocks and marshy areas, and also a few residential houses that run some cattle. It's very big, very wild, and mostly untrailed.
We'd go out there at midnight and take off all of our clothes, including our shoes. We'd split up, and spend the rest of the night walking alone and totally naked in the darkness. We were definitely high AF, but we weren't dangerous. We were weirdos and artists, members of punk bands, and also, sometimes, River Phoenix.
This was in the late '80s and early '90s, so there were no cellphones, and we never ever brought flashlights. Your eyes would adjust to the moonlight very quickly, and the few trails out there were made of fine white sand, which gleamed even when the moon was new. Once you got off the trail, though, you were on your own, and many dangerous things bit us while we were out there.
One night, I was 1/2 way down the main trail away from the parking area when I heard voices. Lots of voices. It was 2 am, and I was alone and naked. The moon was totally full, and the trail I was on seemed to radiate its own silver light. The voices belonged to young men and women, and they were laughing and shouting and saying, "Duuude!" and "Ew, HEATHER! That's SOOOO GROSS."
They sounded like drunk frat boys and sorority girls from the university. I wasn't afraid of them, but I didn't want to waste time answering the questions they'd undoubtedly have if they saw me. In the moonlight it was easy to spot a saw palmetto about 25 feet off the trail. I ran over to it and squatted behind it, wrapping my hair around my arms and chest.
The group of about 10 kids neared. They were still hooting and bickering. Soon they'd pass by. They were even with me and still making loud sounds. If I were a cryptid, I could attack and eat 2 of them before they realized anything was wrong.
They passed by and their voices grew fainter. Finally, it was silent. I counted slowly to 90, not rushing through any Mississippis, and stood up.
The 10 frat and sorority kids were standing directly across from me on the trail, staring at me, speechless, with identical looks of terror on their conventionally attractive faces. I was 5'8", weighed about 115 pounds, and was totally naked. My pale skin, given to me by my Scottish grandmother, glowed like a corpse's in the moonlight. My waist-length auburn hair was wavy and unruly on a good day, but on this night, thanks to the humidity and the meth, it was a sentient thing all its own, standing out in a mass around my face and shoulders, writhing and beckoning.
I decided to go with what my observers were probably thinking, which was "ghost," or "witch," or "demon." It was close enough. I stood perfectly still and stared back at them, my face expressionless. They let out a collective "YAWP" of horror and hightailed it back toward the parking area. I turned my back on the palmetto and lit off through the woods, avoiding the trails for the rest of the night.
When the sky began to pinken, the 6 of us met by the place where we stashed our clothes. As we were all dressing, the talk was mainly about the screaming. My associates could hear it clear across the Prairie, over by the swamp. Weird night, they said. Hope it's nothing to worry about.
submitted by Downtown_Statement87 to BackwoodsCreepy [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 20:19 StrangeAccounts I won a trip to visit the Wordsmith.

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.
submitted by StrangeAccounts to nosleep [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 18:47 heyitsteee A Lesson in Chill - 7/6

Ahh.
The time to lead another lesson approached a lot faster than the son of Boreas had anticipated. It was already time for him to lead some sort of activity, lesson, camp… event thing?
In all honesty, Aput had taken to leadership a lot easier than he had expected. There was definitely a small handful of people who still didn’t think he had the quality to lead a cabin, especially one as difficult as the Anemoi. But, he felt like he was doing just fine. Actually, his cabin was doing SO well, he hadn’t had a single issue since his leadership started three months ago.
Growing up with Mack, and having such a close relationship with the previous, and longest-reigning counselor had played a large role in Aput’s success. He knew how most things were handled in his cabin, and the roles and duties a leader had to complete. His cabin was harder to run than a lot of others. He was in charge of the children of five different gods. And these gods were all as opposite from the other as one could be. The Gods have such a vast differences in personalities and qualities reflected in their children. Aput found the children of Notus the hardest to get along with. He wouldn’t lie about that. But, being their counselor he had to put aside those personal differences to ensure the success and happiness of his campers.
This inner dialogue that Aput had worked through was done while he lounge in the most comfortable beanbag chair in the main common space of his cabin. It was literally made out of clouds. Or… so he was told. That’s when he had a lightbulb moment.
Above all his skills, what skill did Aput have a true master's degree in? Yeah, he was a pretty good archer. Sure, he was charming and had his ways with the ladies. Was he also the best winter athlete at camp? Without question. But this skill, this skill alone outshines them all.
Aput was by far, the most laid-back, down-to-earth, chilled-out dude within at least the closest 20 cabins. It would be quite the challenge to find a camper more relaxed than Aput. Perhaps, a child of Hypnos, but like being permanently tired, isn’t the same as being calm and relaxed.
The counselor had also gotten word about that psycho-hottie from the Aphrodite cabin, and her personal swarm of rats unleashed in the Hermes cabin. Talk about a major headache for Sofia and Teagan. Perhaps, camp needed a lesson in relaxation. Just letting shit slide.
THAT WAS IT. Aput would lead a camp lesson on being chill.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Later that afternoon, Aput set up the most chill, of chillzones.
Shaded underneath a group of large trees, the son of Boreas set up a few activities to harbor in the best relaxation.
Taking the comfy beanbags from the Anemoi cabin, Snipping some cozy blankets and pillows, he created a mound of cozy.
Next to Nap Mountain, Aput had stacked up some books and comics for kids to read, while they lounged.
Aput also laid out some colouring and simple art tasks for those who like to keep their hands busy but like to turn their minds off. This station was perfect for them.
Finally, Aput hung some hammocks for kids who wanna just hang.
Around each space, Aput hung signs that read,‘SHHHH. No talking!!’The son of Boreas was happy with his work. If this didn’t chill out some of these uptight weirdos, he wasn’t sure what would.
With a confident nod at his work, Aput fell into one of the hammocks and passed out.
Sweet dreams icy-prince.
submitted by heyitsteee to CampHalfBloodRP [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 18:33 NamelessNanashi [The Gods of Dragons: Beginning] Ch 19 - Friends

--- Table of Contents ---
Winter 4986, 22 Aoimoth
She had a name! And she was going to dinner with Shon and others from the fortress. And she had a name! Lily practically skipped as she followed Shon down the spiral stairs, then through the halls, then down more flights of stairs. She didn’t care that she might end up too lost to get back to the infirmary on her own; she was having dinner with others! And she had a name!
As they walked, Lily watched Shon in glances, not wanting to stare. He'd let her hold his hand for practically forever. Longer than anyone she'd known, though that was admittedly a small sample. Lily brushed the back of Shon’s hand with hers. He flinched the first time, and she felt a little guilty, but touching his skin was like touching ice that didn’t melt. When she did it a second time, he looked at her, and she grinned guiltily. She would have apologized, but the next moment they entered a vast room, and she was struck dumb by the size of it.
It was at least twice as large as the infirmary, which was as big as her treasures' rooms -previously the largest she'd ever remembered seeing. In the middle was a long table full of boys and young men with room to spare. Positioned around it were smaller, round tables where adult Paladins sat with steaming bowls of stew. The smell of venison and root vegetables permeated the room, and she took a deep breath to try and take it all in.
Shon walked past her and had to turn back to get her attention, Ryuuko swaying with the motion on his shoulder. Silently he nodded towards another long table against the wall with a few bowls and a massive pot of -presumably- stew. Lily sprinted to catch up with him as Shon picked up a bowl. Scraping the bottom of the nearly empty pot, he found enough chunks to fill it before handing it to her and grabbing another.
Lily cradled the steaming bowl and surveyed the room again. She'd never seen so many people... She wanted to meet all of them. Tell them her name. She had a name!
Shon started towards the long table, and Lily ran past him towards the middle and largest grouping of Squires. A boy only a year or so older than she and Shon waved at her, indicating the bench in front of him, though it was full of boys already. “Scoot over guys, we have a guest!” he told the Squires, who turned to face her, and as one dropped their spoons into their bowls.
“Hi! My name’s Lily.” she didn’t bother to suppress her grin, bouncing on the balls of her feet. The boys quickly made room, and Shon passed behind her as she set her bowl down. But with her hands free, Lily reached out and pulled him closer. He stumbled, but only a little, and she smiled down at the boys again, “Could you scoot a little bit more? For Shon?”
The boy to her right looked dumbfounded while the boy to her left looked at Shon as if he'd grown a second head. Lily continued to smile, and Ryuuko whistled on Shon's shoulder. The boys exchanged looks but made room, so she sat and patted the bench until Shon set his bowl down and joined her.
with a wide smile, the boy who'd waved her over commented, “Wow, strange to see you in the middle, Shon…” Shon just shrugged, and Ryuuko chittered. Holding his elbows close to his sides, Shon picked up his spoon and, scooping up some meat, held it up for the little dragon.
The Squire next to the talkative one shook his head and spoke to Lily, "Excuse us miss, my name’s Baradin, this is Zihler, Rehlein…" he listed off each of the other twelve squires, pointing as he went and ending with, "and you already know Shon... apparently…" he looked at Shon questioningly, like he was waiting for something.
Shon lifted his head to look at Baradin but said nothing. Lily was only paying half attention to them, instead whispering the other boys' names under her breath, determined to remember as many as possible. "My name is Lily." she declared again, beaming at the boys around the table. She was so happy to finally be able to give someone her name that it didn’t matter that some of them wouldn’t meet her eyes. Beneath the table, she moved her leg to touch Shon's beside her. He dropped his spoon.
Baradin looked away from Shon again, focusing on her, "It's nice to meet you, Lily," the boys around him each greeted her in one way or another, some with a "Hi" and smile, others with just a wave, and still others mumbling something before focusing on their food intensely.
"Soooooo," Zihler let the word draw out for a long time. He glanced at Shon then finally asked, "How did you meet Shon? He isn't usually the type to make conversation."
Beside her, Shon sighed, and Lily tilted her head just a little at the reaction. Zihler didn't sound like he was making fun of her new friend. Maybe he was just trying to find a way to start a conversation… "He saved me." She answered, "That's why I'm here." Shon looked at her in shock, and she smiled at him, "We were just talking before dinner, and he invited me to come have some."
The boys were staring at them openly now. Apparently, they hadn't been told about the tower incident. She wondered if she'd said too much and decided to take a bite of the stew while she thought. It was rich and delicious. She took her time to chew it slowly, barely resisting a moan.
"So, he's almost like a knight in shining armor." said the other boy next to Baradin -Rehlein- his voice definitely teasing as he grinned at Shon.
"Except he's a Squire that can’t wear armor." said another boy, whose name she couldn't remember. The boys around the table laughed, Ryuuko twittered, until…
"Damn it, Shon!" Baradin slammed his hands down on the table. He had tried to take a bite only to find his spoon frozen in a block of ice that had once been a steaming bowl of venison stew.
“Squire! Pushups.” an adult at the largest of the round tables shouted over them, and Baradin stood immediately, stepping over his bench and starting pushups.
Lily leaned over the table to tilt her head at him as Zihler laughed, until he noticed his own food just as solid, "Oh come on!" all down the table, boys were checking their bowls and groaning.
Shon sat glaring into his frozen bowl, his pale cheeks turning pink. A boy further down the table -Thom- leaned forward, calling, “It’s alright, Shon…” but Shon just hunched his shoulders, the pseudodragon crawling down his arm to tap its foreclaw on the ice.
Lily tilted her head at him, then at her bowl. Picking up her spoon, she held the bowl upside down and giggled. "That's so neat!" she said, flicking the ice in her bowl, "Did you do it? I thought you said you weren't a Mage?" Was he a Sorcerer? Was that why she liked touching him so much? She'd never met another Sorcerer before...
Baradin stood, his face red from his punishment, and glared at Shon, "It's not 'neat.' There isn't enough for everyone to get new bowls, Shon."
Shon muttered a soft "Sorry…" and another boy, seated across from Thom -Rerves? Leaned forward to shout,
“Lay off. It’s not like he does it on purpose.”
Shon growled so quietly Lily was sure she would be the only one to hear. He reached up and ran his hand through his hair, obviously distressed. Ryuuko whistled sadly.
Lily reached under the table to place a hand on his knee. Shon met her eyes. His were like the clear sky on the coldest of winter days, but now they were also upset and embarrassed. Lily felt an ache in her chest she'd only really felt when one of her treasures had been in discomfort.
She smiled at him, trying to make it a reassuring look before she turned to Baradin. "It's okay. We can just warm these back up." She stood, leaned over the table, and dipped her index finger into the middle of his frozen stew. Soon it was steaming again, and she moved on to Zihler.
It took a moment for the Squires to realize what she was doing. She had to lean WAY over the table to reach the bowls, and they seemed more interested in her than in their dinner. When she moved on and they did notice, they stared at the stew, picking up their spoons to let the steaming liquid pour back into the bowl. Stepping over the bench, Lily worked her way around the table, squeezing between the Squires on her side to reach over to those on the other.
As she was finishing up, Zihler looked at Shon, saying, "Now THAT is a useful ability." Shon ignored him, watching Lily as she came back to her seat beside him.
"It does come in handy." she sat down and took a moment to examine her broth-covered finger before sticking it in her mouth and sucking the juice off. The boys shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Maybe she'd made it too hot...
***
After freezing everyone’s dinner, Shon was even less interested in socializing than usual. Though once Lily countered his slip-up, no one wanted to talk to him anyway. She was infinitely more interesting, and why wouldn't she be? Even without the fascinating stripes and metallic hair, she was the only girl any of the boys had seen in nearly a year. And that was only IF the villagers who came for only one night on Winter Solstice counted.
Lily, for her part, seemed to honestly enjoy the conversation, becoming fast friends with anyone and everyone who spoke with her. She answered all the Squires’ questions honestly and followed up with just as many of her own, if not more. She was a true social butterfly, smiling at everyone and listening intently when they spoke, giving each her undivided attention.
She didn’t pull Shon into talking as she'd pulled him into sitting next to her. Part of him was grateful, but another part, a small quiet part, felt that this was the beginning of the end. But the end of what? He'd known her for an hour at most. Why should it bother him that she smiled at the other Squires? They'd always been more sociable than he was, and it never bothered him before.
But now he just wanted them all to slink off into the shadows so he could talk to Lily by himself again. Ask her his questions and direct the conversation with some semblance of structure that wasn’t possible with fifteen teenagers all trying to talk to her at once.
Showing restraint beyond their years, the Squires tried to keep the subjects of their questions safe, but even the most polite sometimes led to worrisome answers. Lily apparently had no idea how old she was, though she assumed she couldn’t be that much older than the youngest of them, guessing she was around the same age as Shon. She also didn’t know where she came from, only that it was in the woods. Her crimson stripes were, in fact, scales. And yes, they were real and grew naturally from her body. And no, she wasn’t going to give the Squires any -though they hadn’t requested- because it hurt to pull them out and it required pliers. Shon’s head swam with a thousand -less polite- follow-up questions, but kept his mouth shut except to eat his food.
As he was feeding the last of his dinner to Ryuuko, Lily explained that she'd been raised by Mages, but didn’t know magic herself. Except for fire. She was a fire Sorcerer, though she had no clearance and no papers.
"So that's how you did it!" Kefir exclaimed.
"What kind of a familiar do you have?" Baradin asked.
"I bet it's something beautiful and exotic, like a fairy dragon," Zihler mused, leaning on his hands and staring at Lily.
Lily tilted her head to one side, and when they didn't elaborate, she shifted it to the other, finally, she said, "Isn't that a Mage spell?"
"All Sorcerers have familiars," Rehlien looked very confused, "Like Shon's pseudodragon."
"Very few have something like a pseudodragon..." Rerves tried to clarify, "It's usually just a regular animal, though bonding with a Sorcerer makes it special. They're smarter, and you can see through their eyes and..." he trailed off, finally catching the look on Lily's face. Her shoulders had slumped, and it looked like she might never smile again. Her eyes had glazed over, and Shon could make out a slight tremble in her lip.
"I... My treasures..."
Shon felt an ache deep in his chest at the pain evident in her voice. The Squires all exchanged worried looks, stuttering to find something to change the subject without seeming too obvious about it. Shon clenched his hands into fists, then steeled himself and reached under the table to touch her knee as she'd done to him. Her head shot up, and Shon nearly jumped from his seat when he felt her grab his hand and squeeze it tight. "Maybe yours just hasn't come yet," he whispered, and though he knew the others were obviously trying to avoid talking about her captivity, he continued, thinking it couldn't possibly be worse than the pain she was showing now, "You were locked in that tower, maybe your familiar just couldn't reach you."
"I had animals though, my treasures..." Lily started, still not letting go of his fingers. She talked in plurals, but as far as Shon knew, a Sorcerer could only have one familiar.
"Did you ever see through their eyes? Feel their emotions?" Shon asked. Lily shook her head and opened her mouth, but Shon interrupted, "then none of them were probably familiars. I'm sorry, Lily, I can tell you really loved them."
Lily nodded, and a single silent tear slipped down her cheek, making the scales sparkle where it touched. Shon wanted to wipe it away, but Ryuuko beat him to it, snaking its head forward and licking the tear from her face. Lily actually managed a giggle, kissing the little dragon on its scaled head. "Thank you, little one..." she took a deep breath and plastered a smile back on. Turning back to the other Squires, she asked, "So are any more of you Sorcerers?"
Zihler smiled broadly, and Shon found himself grateful for the boy's social flare for the first time since they'd met. Zihler picked up the conversation, shifting it seamlessly back to happier things, "Nope, just Shon, but all of us will have divine magic soon enough! And as Paladins, we'll get something even better than a familiar. Warhorses! You can come watch us ride at the end of the month if you want."
Lily clapped her hands in excitement at the idea, apparently, she'd never seen horses before. But the move meant she let go of his hand again. Shon pulled his freed limb back quickly, staring into his nearly empty bowl and feeling guilty. Had he taken advantage of her distress just to touch her again? She didn't seem to mind his cold, but she was also very polite. She probably just didn't want to make him feel awkward...
No one left the table, even after they finished their food. Usually the Squires would each filter out as they finished, getting a head start on their study time, tonight they sat in front of empty bowls, the quiet Squires listening like Shon while the more talkative ones told stories and continued their questions, many of them repeats, as if they couldn’t believe her answers. Lily answered them all again anyway, grinning all the while.
Shon stood when Ryuuko finished the last of his food, and Lily reached out, resting a hand on his arm. She tilted her head at him, and Zihler asked, “Where you goin’, Shon?” Shon arched an incredulous eyebrow at the older Squire. Zihler should know exactly where Shon was going. The hour bell rang, signaling his answer for him and the other Squires quickly scurried over benches, whispering tame curses so the adults couldn’t hear.
“Where are you going?” Lily repeated Zihler’s question to the room at large, then focused on Shon for the answer.
Picking up her empty bowl and stacking it with his, Shon explained, “We have an hour of mandated study time before we get free time again. Some go to the chapel, others to the library,”
Lily had wrinkled her nose at the mention of the chapel, but her eyes went wide again at the end, and she scrambled to her feet, “You have a library? What are you studying? Can I study with you?”
Staring down at her earnest face Shon opened his mouth to answer when Rehlien spoke over him, “It’s really boring. You can come if you want, though. We have other books.”
Ryuuko hopped from Shon's shoulder to Lily's, leaving its human to trail behind the throng of Squires, first crowding around the food table to drop off their bowls, then moving towards the door and the library. Ahead of him, Lily stood in the thick of it, petting Ryuuko with one hand and looking like a kid in a sweets shop.
By the time Shon reached the library, some of the boys had broken off into their usual groups. But a lot more had stayed with Lily, who was staring open-mouthed at the shelves of books. Ryuuko flew from her shoulder, circling Shon once before taking its place on the bookshelf nearest the door and curling into a ball, its wings draped over the sides as it snoozed.
Shon made for the table by the window, but today, Lily plopped down across from him with a sigh, “I’ve never seen so many books… what’re you studying?”
“History of Gasha,” Shon answered, then, looking down at the pile of books before him, slid one in her direction, “The others like to talk while they read if you want to join them…” he muttered, opening his own text.
Lily just shook her head, “I think I’ve talked more today than I’ve ever talked in the rest of my life combined.” She shifted in her seat, resting her back on the wall instead of the chair back, bringing one leg up to prop the book on her bent knee. She read quietly.
“Hey Lily,” Zihler whispered, pulling up a chair at the closest large table. Shon sighed, looking up from his book and losing his spot. To his surprise, however, Lily didn’t look up. “Lily?” Zihler called a little louder, and Lily held up a single finger, still not looking up from her book. Zihler glanced at Shon, who shrugged.
Slowly Lily lowered her finger, holding it against her spot on the page before finally looking up and tilting her head at Zihler. Zihler blushed, “We uh… We’re going to play some cards, after, if you want…” Lily looked back down at her book, “Um…”
“After,” Lily said shortly, then, glancing up with just her eyes, said, “I thought this was study time?” it came across as more of a reprimand than a question and Shon quickly hid his smile in his book.
“Yeah… sorry... after…” Zihler turned away, and silence returned for the most part, broken only by the occasional whisper that didn’t involve Shon.
After a few more minutes, Lily mumbled to herself, “This says the same things as all my other history books…” Shon glanced up as she shifted in her seat again and continued reading.
He went back to his book but only for a moment before looking up again, “We have other books…” he whispered.
“I want to study with you guys,” Lily scanned the shelves then looked at Shon, “History can’t help but be boring sometimes.” she managed a grin, “Sorry, I won’t interrupt you.”
He tried to go back to his book, but, for some reason, found himself far more distracted without the chatter than he would be with it. Finally, he stood, leaving his book open, and moved towards a practically unused set of shelves. Lily watched him from their table but didn’t say anything and didn’t follow. He scanned the books, knowing the series he wanted but not seeing it where he thought it should be.
Ryuuko slipped from its shelf, fluttering onto his shoulder, and looked over the tomes with him. Shon didn't think the pseudodragon could read and continued looking for the book he wanted in silence. He could picture it clearly; it should be around... Ryuuko's scorpion-like tail stretched out and tapped a thin green spine one shelf down from where Shon was looking. He blinked at it, then at the little dragon, who purred, then reached for the book he'd been searching for. Shon hesitated, then tried to send the pseudodragon a silent 'thank you,' hoping their link went both ways. Ryuuko chirped and rubbed its cheek against his before taking off and resuming its spot on the shelf, circling three times before laying down with a contented huff Shon could feel in his chest.
He returned to the table, holding the book out to Lily. She took it and thumbed through the pages. “This is a story…” she looked back at him, her expression accusatory.
“A historian wrote it, they like to write historical events from the perspectives of someone who may have lived them.” he returned to his own book, but continued, “They're historically accurate so I read them as a supplement to the assigned texts.”
“Thank you,” she mouthed in her quietest whisper yet, and Shon couldn't help but smile. History didn't have to be boring all the time.
They spent the entire hour in companionable silence. Together, and yet alone in their own tasks. When the bell rang, signaling the beginning of their last bit of free time, Shon was actually disappointed.
“Hey, Lily; Shon! Cards?” Rerves held a deck in the air, waving them towards the largest table where the usual boys began to gather for the game.
Shon stood, looking towards the door, but Lily grabbed his arm, pulling in close to whisper in his ear, “I’ve never played cards before, is it hard?” her breath was hot on his cheek, and he fumbled for an answer.
“Come on, Shon, you can’t really practice right now anyway…” Rerves called, grinning at him as if his logic could actually trap Shon into a game he didn’t want to play. But Lily was still hanging onto his arm, and all his planned excuses melted away. Despite her exposure to his cold, she seemed to touch him whenever possible. The last thing Shon wanted to do was pull away now. What if she stopped and became like everyone else? Why did that possibility bother him this much?
Her hands were hot even through his sleeve, and she trailed them down his arm to grab his hand with both of hers, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” she whispered in his ear again.
“What’s the game?” Shon called to Rerves, and Lily beamed with the light of the sun.
Rerves passed his deck to Zihler, who shuffled it together with his own, “With this many people? Rummy.” Shon nodded, at least it wasn’t poker.
“Rummy? How do you play? I’ve never played cards before.” Lily called to the others, stepping away from Shon and towards the table but pulling his hand as she went. Shon stumbled after her and found himself disappointed again when she let go to pull out two chairs for them.
“It’s really easy. You just have to try and get three of a kind or in a row. You draw from either the discard pile or the stock pile and...” Zihler rambled on about the rules in the most confusing way Shon could imagine as he shuffled and dealt the cards to the seven boys plus Lily.
Lily smiled at Zihler but leaned in close to Shon, resting her hand on his knee, “Can you show me?” she asked.
Shon nodded, then interrupted Zihler with, “We’ll play the first round together,” sliding his hand of cards back to Zihler.
Zihler fumbled with the deck, dropping two cards face up before scooping them up and shoving them somewhere in the middle, “If… if you want. Though Shon’s not very good at it.”
“Shon’s not very good at anything that doesn’t involve swinging a weapon at someone,” Thom poked Zihler in the shoulder, “and yet he can still beat you at rummy.”
“Only once.” Zihler countered with a huff but then smiled again right away. It was a friendly sort of teasing, and Shon looked at Lily, wondering what she would think only to find her smiling broadly at all of them.
She laughed, “You guys poke fun at each other like Brom and Ran…” she trailed off, her face falling, the smile gone in a flash. Something in the statement, probably a memory, had hurt her.
Shon picked up her cards, fanning them out and holding them in front of Lily, “With this many people, we each get six cards. The hand is bigger with fewer people.” Lily focused on the cards, and a hint of a grin returned as she took them from him, holding them as he'd done.
She leaned over and whispered loud enough for the entire table to hear, “What’s a hand?” she really didn’t know anything about playing cards.
“A 'hand' is the cards you hold. This is your hand. It’s going to start with Thom on Zihler’s left because Zihler is the dealer. Thom is either going to draw from the discard pile, which are the face-up cards,” Shon pointed as Zihler turned one card face up, “or from the stock,” he pointed at the rest of the deck that now lay face down beside the face-up card, “Watch.”
They watched together as Thom took his turn, pulling a card from the stock then laying one down, face-up, on the discard pile. “Now Rerves can either take the face-up card or one of the stock cards,” Shon explained. Rerves took a new card then discarded one of his own and the turn moved to Rehlien.
As the game moved towards Lily, she reached out to take a card, but Shon stopped her with a shake of his head, “The goal is to get either three of a kind, three cards of the same number, or a three-card straight, three numbers in succession, like three, four, five. Look at your hand and see if you have anything close to that.” she had two threes, and Baradin had discarded another just before her.
Lily squinted at her hand, then gasped and snatched up the three from the discard pile, holding it up as though she'd just snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. The sight made Shon smile, “Now lay down the set you have, and it’s Zihler's turn. Your goal is to get rid of all your cards before anyone else.”
“You can also play off of others' sets,” Zihler added, though he didn’t do so himself, instead reaching for a new card and discarding one of his own.
Lily looked at Shon and tilted her head to the side. Shon explained, “We'll deal with that when it comes up. For now, focus on the cards you have and what everyone else is laying down.”
Lily giggled, “You’re good at this,” and poked him on the nose. Shon’s eyes crossed to try and see her finger before she returned it to her cards.
“Uh… Lily?” Thom started nervously, and she looked up at him, “Shon doesn’t… he doesn't really like being touched,” Thom blushed and looked at his hand with such intensity one would think the cards were about to catch fire. Or freeze to his fingers. His breath showed with his next words, “I just thought you should know…” he mumbled.
Shon couldn't remember ever wanting to punch someone before now.
“What?” Lily asked, “But why?” she turned to Shon, her eyes full of concern.
Running his fingers through his hair, Shon leaned back in his chair. He hadn't realized how close he'd been to her, leaning forward so they could both study her hand. He was surprised she wasn’t shivering. “People don’t like touching me…” he muttered as a half-hearted explanation. How could he explain that people had been pulling away from him his whole life, inquiring about his health and comfort after feeling how cold he was? And now... now was so much worse. Even Lily had asked if it hurt after holding his hand on the bell tower.
“But that’s not the same thing at all!” Lily shouted, and everyone, even the other groups, turned to look at her. “Why would anyone not like touching you? It’s refreshing, like holding a rock that's been in the shade all day. And you don’t hurt people like I do.” She spoke with a passion that surprised everyone, not least of which Shon, and she wasn’t done, “You let me hold your hand longer than anyone else and even said it didn’t hurt. I like touching you. Should I stop?”
The boys around the table looked from Lily to Shon and back again, dumbfounded. Shon just stared at Lily, who stared back with worried, desperate eyes. She hadn’t been talking about his cold on the bell tower… She'd been talking about her heat.
“How can it hurt to touch someone?” Zihler asked on Lily’s other side, "I mean, Shon's cold is uncomfortable, like trying to hold onto ice with bare hands, but it doesn't hurt. Well, maybe if you hold on too long, it might eventually, but I figured you'd just go numb first-" he rambled.
Lily interrupted and answered his question in one move when she turned and cupped his cheek. It was an uncomfortably intimate gesture and Zihler blushed pink immediately, then jerked away, rubbing his red cheek and sweating.
“I’m a fire Sorcerer,” Lily explained with a sigh. She'd told them at dinner, but apparently, none of them really understood what that meant, “My body is hotter than normal, and even when I have my power under control, I can burn people if they touch me for too long. Especially if I'm distracted,” her shoulders slumped, and she looked down at the table with a sigh, “I’m sorry, I probably should've just said that instead of burning your cheek..." she took a deep breath and continued, "But I wasn't paying attention and was able to hold Shon’s hand forever, and he didn't pull away...” she ran her fingertips over the cards, now lying face down on the table, and addressed Shon directly, “I took advantage of your kindness, I’m sorry.” She met Shon’s eyes, and whatever words he might have said caught in his throat.
“Shon’s an ice Sorcerer…” Thom said, pulling everyone’s attention back to him and shrinking back from it. He hated being the center of attention, but swallowed and continued anyway, “Maybe your powers cancel each other out?”
“Yeah, that explains it,” Rerves said, then managed a smile, “Mystery solved, now let’s get back to the game.” the boys all laughed at Rerves' blatant redirection, and the game resumed without further talk of Shon or Lily’s strange skin. Though many of them failed miserably at sneaking glances at the two of them.
Lily picked up her cards and shifted closer to the table in silence. Shon’s nose tingled where she'd touched it, and the phantom memories of her hands on other parts of him, his knee, arm, and hand, started tingling again. Shon moved in closer, staring at Lily’s cards, but whispered, “I don’t mind, Lily. It doesn't hurt.”
Lily looked around the table, the boys were busy admiring the straight of the same suit Kefir had just laid down. She leaned in close, her shoulder brushing his, whispering, “Really? I’ve never met anyone I didn’t have to be careful with before…”
Shon confirmed with a nod, and Lily’s resulting smile warmed him at his very core. Refreshing… she'd said his skin was refreshing…
The game continued, Thom won, and they started a second. Halfway through the match, the hour bell rang, and a voice shouted over it from the doorway, making Ryuuko jump awake and chitter angrily, “There you are!” The fortress Cleric grinned as he walked towards the table, but Lily stiffened as if he were brandishing a knife at them. “Master Daunas said you had dinner with the boys and had followed them off to their study hour.” he addressed the Squires who were handing their cards over to Rerves to split back into two decks, “I hope you all were polite to our guest.”
“Yes, sir.” The table full of Squires answered in unison, and Lily relaxed, though she looked baffled for some reason.
The kindly Cleric chuckled at them and addressed Lily, “If you're feeling better, then perhaps we can move you to a proper guest room tomorrow. Until then, it’s lights out, boys.”
“Yes, sir,” they spoke in unison again, standing and making for the door. Ryuuko flew down to Shon's shoulder, and Lily reached out to grab his hand, as if testing his assurance. He turned to her without flinching, eyebrow arched.
“Can I see you again tomorrow?” she asked, her slitted eyes searching his face. Shon looked from the Cleric, who nodded, then back to Lily with a small smile and nod of his own. Lily beamed.
--- Table of Contents ---
Thanks for making it this far, you are the real MVP
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2023.06.07 18:05 templarbriar_YT Nature of the Force chapter 1

Hello everyone. As I have stated in the prologue; at first, it will follow the the same thing as the main series with some minor tweaks, however once the foundation is set, it will diverge into its own story. anyway, if you enjoy it let me know, however if there are some issues, please let me know. I will try to find a way to integrate your ideas into the story. Anyways, without a further ado, enjoy chapter 1.
[Previous]
Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic
Date [standardized human time]: July 12, 2136
There were two known instances of a predatory species achieving sentience in the galaxy.
The Arxur were the first to be discovered, and, as an anomaly, sparked the Federation’s curiosity. By previous hypotheses on intelligence, their existence was impossible. Conventional wisdom stated that cooperation led to higher thinking, which in turn, led to the formation of technological societies. A predator’s natural instinct for aggression should have limited their evolution.
But it turned out that there was another motivator for technological progress; war. The Arxur derived pleasure from killing each other, and in doing so, managed to claw their way to an industrial stage. Their warfare was so deadly that we feared they would become extinct before we could study them.
The Federation saw their cruelty, but in our naivety, we thought we could change them. If we uplifted them, there would be no logical reason for their destructive ways to persist. Thus, we made our worst mistake: we decided to intervene.
It was out of our kindness that we unleashed the galaxy’s worst monsters. We gave genocidal maniacs the means to escape their planet, and all but invited them to our doorstep. The Federation was an easy target to them, and they set out to claim our territories for themselves. They torched worlds, enslaved millions, and bred our children as delicacies. Our pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears; predators had no sense of compassion to appeal to, after all.
The Federation rallied together to fend them off, and began the ceaseless war for our survival. From that point onward, it was agreed that no predatory species could be allowed to reach the stars. Their kind were too great of a threat to the civilized universe.
Little known to the public, scientists discovered a second predatory sapient centuries ago. Much like the Axur, they have committed atrocities and have broadcasted these horrendous actions.
However, what is unusual, and unlike the Axur, is that these broadcasts have shown obviously impossible abilities. lifting debris to throw upon others, lightning coming from their paws, and several other actions. After a long debate it was concluded that those terrifying abilities were obviously false in order to spread further terror among themselves.
After a unanimous vote for extermination, and decades of drafting plans to bombarde their planet, we detect multiple nuclear detonations across their planet. Our strategists concluded, with a grim sense of relief, that they had wiped themselves out. The species was forgotten, mentioned only as an asterisk to the Arxur’s unique predator status.
Yet now, my advisors were digging every record of these predators off of the internet. There was a vessel inbound for our world, with a subspace trail pointing back to the planet Earth.
“Governor Tarva.” My military advisor, Kam, was growing more impatient by the minute. It was obvious that he wanted to be cleared for action. “Please, I beg you. We must try to shoot them down.”
“Are you certain we cannot evacuate the planet?” I asked.
Kam sighed. “You know the answer, ma’am. They were within orbital range by the time we detected them. It’s already too late.”
I grimaced. Every FTL relay was broadcasting a planetary distress signal, from the moment we identified the human ship. It was in vain, of course; it would take hours for our Federation allies to reach us. By the time they arrived, our world would be reduced to rubble. At least someone would investigate our death, and hopefully, put the pieces together.
Was there any way to stop the coming onslaught? Was enslavement preferable to death? It was doubtful, but I didn’t see another way to bargain for my race’s survival. There was nothing else to be done.
To put it simply, we couldn’t divert resources to another army of predators. Our people didn’t have the manpower or the spirit. Local forces were depleted from a recent Arxur incursion, which was thwarted by the slimmest of margins. The humans caught us at a time of maximum vulnerability; there was no chance to fight or flee.
As difficult as it was to surrender our home, it was the only option.
“Yes… I know. Send out an emergency alert. Get the civilians to bomb shelters immediately.” I stared at my paws, cursing the day I chose to run for office. “Contact the incoming ship. I—I will personally offer our unconditional surrender.”
“Surrender? Without firing a single shot?!” the advisor growled.
“Perhaps they’ll be kinder than the Arxur. My hope is they’ll spare the children.” The video tapes of our children, lined up in front of the gray reptilians and shot by a mass grave, rolled in my mind. It was their way of taunting us. “At worst, we can buy some time. But if we fight, they’ll kill us all.”
I swiveled my chair away from the advisor, signaling that the discussion was over. An aide propped a camera in front of me, and with a swish of my tail, I showed that I was ready. Fear swelled in my throat as we hailed the vessel on all frequencies. Would these creatures even answer? Predators didn’t talk to prey, except to toy with them. Perhaps they would pick up, just to laugh at our desperation and weakness.
To my surprise, the inbound ship accepted our transmission. A brown-skinned being appeared on screen, sitting in some sort of pilot’s chair. The words of our surrender were almost to my lips when its forward-facing eyes locked with mine. To my horror, it bared its teeth in a vicious snarl. Its sharp, hungry stare halted my thought process, sending my instincts into a primal cascade.
This thing was feral! The hostility was unmistakable in its expression. It uttered a few words in a guttural dialect, which I assumed was an announcement of our impending doom.
The translator tingled by my ear, pressing the meaning into my mind. I took a shaky breath, certain the machine was wrong.
Well I'll be... H-Hello. We come in peace, on behalf of the United Republic of Earth.
I stared at it, lost for words. “Peace? What?”
The translator spit out my question in the guttural language.
The predator closed its maw, tilting its head. “Did that translate wrong? You know, peace? Friendship?”
“Yes…I know what peace means,” I stammered. “Why would you want that?”
“Why would you not?” It seemed almost taken aback. “My people have looked to the stars for a long time and wondered if there was anyone else out there. I’m happy to have an answer, and to know we’re not alone.”
“You speak of peace, but you can’t keep the snarl off your face, predator!” Kam interjected.
“What? I don’t…” it trailed off, as though something occurred to it. “You mean the ‘smile’, don’t you? I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, really.”
“Smile? What does that word mean?” I asked hesitantly.
“Er, it’s how humans show happiness and good will. Our lips curve up and...” It rubbed its forehead with a soft appendage. “Can we start over? I’m Noah. We’re here on a peaceful exploration at the request, and funding of the Jedi order.”
I was confused, there were no records of a order created by their species, nor their planet. It shouldn't even be possible for predators to have any "order" within their species.
Let alone the fact they have made an 'order,' do they Truley expect us to believe that flashing their teeth is a sign of friendliness? This has to be some sort of game they are playing. Predators don't do peaceful exploration, they hunt, destroy, trample and then burn it for good measure.
Since they haven't already killed us, I'll have to play along, at least long enough until the fleet arrives to save us.
peering into the predatory eyes, and trying to keep my voice calm, I spoke. "I'm governor Tarva. Welcome to Venlil Prime."
"Thanks" the human said. "I must admit, I'm quite surprised to receive your transmission."
"Y-you were? Why did you come here, if you didn't detect us?"
"We were petitioned and funded by the Jedi order to explore this star system. Whenever they request something as big as this, typically it would always be a big discovery. And the discovery of new life is bigger than anything that the jedi has found before this."
"Why would you care about life on other worlds?"
"Um, we were starting to think we were the only instance of life arising. But now, finding a full-fledged, technological civilization; it’s wondrous. One that not only spotted us, but seems to understand what we are too.”
“You keep using the first person, plural. Who is we?”
"Oh, I almost forgot" Noah pitted the camera to the side, revealing another human sitting on the floor with their legs crossed, and their eyes closed. What was terrifying about this human, is that there was some sort of rod in pieces in front of her... Floating in the air...
"This is Sara, the jedi that their order sent on this mission to supervise." And with that the rod connected back together and floated towards the floor. After opening their eyes and standing up, the other human spoke.
"Greetings. I am Jedi master Sara Rosario of the Jedi order. Please do not mind me, Captain Noah often likes to speak enough for both of us."
The captain’s eyebrows shot up. “I do not!”
For a brief moment, watching their playful banter, I saw a kindred intelligence in them. My logical brain kicked in a second later, and the illusion dissolved with a cold certainty. Those predators aren’t searching for life for ‘science’, I chided myself. They’re looking for prey. It’s an interstellar hunting expedition.
This was the humans’ first realization that other intelligent life existed. All these measured words were a way of testing the waters, searching for any signs of weakness. We couldn’t clue them in to the fact that they were different, even their ability to life things. Especially with their ability to lift things... Perhaps if we kept it together, with minimal indications of empathy or fear, they would leave of their own accord.
Despite my misgivings, our best bet might be to treat this like an ordinary first contact situation.
“What would you say to seeing Venlil Prime firsthand? As esteemed guests of the Republic, of course.”
Noah’s eyes sparkled. “It would be an honor.”
submitted by templarbriar_YT to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 17:21 The_Alloquist [A Lord of Death] - Chapter 61 (Efrain)

[←Interlude II] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 62→]
Slowly the group was peeled apart and taken to their various quarters, with the merchant Amicio shuffling off the children and paladins to his junior, taking the commander and captains for himself. Efrain was left with the so-called mentor, who was in a state of nervous agitation.

“Alright, you’ll need to explain why you’re about to have a fit,” Efrain said.

“Well, of course, of course, you wouldn’t know me,” said the mentor, “I came to the post of mentor long after you’d left the city.”

Efrain thought the title vaguely rang a bell, and he was beginning to have a dread certainty of the origin of it.

“Please do not tell me you’re a cast-off from Nicolo, aren’t you,” he said, the image of the far too charming ‘scholar’ coming to mind.

“I-If you’re referring to Nicolo Zarrentini, our most honoured founder, then yes.”

“That… bastard,” Efrain said, “I told him that it was a joke! A joke!”

The man shrank back from the apparent anger of Efrain, before growing significantly more confused as Efrain began to howl with laughter.

“The ass was always fond of his pranks. I believe he even said that he ‘wanted one to follow me into the grave,’” Efrain said, shaking his head, “it was so long ago.”

“But-but didn’t you- weren’t you part of the first convocation of the academy?”

“It was in Aimstand’s kitchen,” Efrain complained, “two hundred years ago, and they were both so drunk that if they’d taken a few steps to the left, they’d have drowned in the canal. ‘Convocation’ was one way to put it.”

This was clearly not the secrets that the mentor desired, judging by his rapidly reddening face.

“It was an old joke between friends, the idea of starting and academy of magic,” Efrain said, “I left, what, two hundred years ago?”

“But your name… and your books?”

“My books?” Efrain said, desperately scanning his memory of published works.

“Well yes. Your books. The ones you left behind. We use them as a foundation text for most of our students and…”

Efrain didn’t even let him finish, rather grasped him suddenly and violently by the collars.

“You don’t mean to say that… my old notes are used to teach. Students. Magic?” he said, voice trembling with horror.

“Yes?” said the man, who was beginning to sweat profusely.

“Those aboslute motherf-” Efrain said, as a loud gong rang out into the canal.

“Oh!” said the man, “We’ll have to pick up this conversation later, that’s the signal for canal clearing. We’d better be off before they close it off for the Festival traffic only.”

“Am I staying with you, then?” Efrain said, trying to drop the note of absolute menace in his voice as best he could.

“Yes, yes that would be correct,” he said, “as soon as I heard you were coming, I prepared the finest office in the academy for you. It’s not much, but I believe that you would enjoy seeing the labours of your wor…”

The man trailed off as he remembered the last few minutes of conversation.

“Either way, I would hope you’d at least examine it.”

“I would be happy to, mentor,” Efrain said, straightening himself, “particularly the notes.”

The man shrank at his venom but lead Efrain to his boat all the same, and they set off down the canals to the south.

“The Academy, as you might know,” he said, “is still located in the old district. As such, academy studentship is still a prized opportunity, if only to gain access in and out.”

“Gain access?” Efrain said.

“Well, it’s been monitored for thirty years, restricted to only business, and those with invitations only,” he said, patting a pin on his inner shirt, “academy students have numbered passes that-”

“No, why is it restricted in the first place?” Efrain said.

“Oh. Oh of course! You wouldn’t be aware. The Miram estate burned down almost thirty years ago. Suspected arson, though no suspects were ever caught.”

“Oh really?” Efrain said, “what a pity. I remember the old houses well. They had the most wonderful curtains.”

“The Mirams?” the man said, “I’ve only ever heard stories.”

“So the whole old district has been restricted? From where to where?”

“Just before the shipyards, master Efrain, to the tip of the white stone ziggurats. Of course the major western canals to the shipyards remain open.”

“What?” said Efrain aghast, “that much? Why, that was half the city last time I was here.”

“Yes, well,” said the man, adjusting his spectacles, “the Eisen and Poutash have been buying up immense amounts of property throughout the district for, well about eighty years now. The ‘old district’, as we now call it, is effectively two large estates with the central trade offices between.”

“Huh,” said Efrain, “well that’s not surprising, I suppose. They were always greedy.”

The man exclaimed in shock at him as they rounded a bend in the canal.

“My dear master Efrain!” he said, “the Eisen and Poutash are dear patrons, especially the former, who’ve been supporting this institution for generations!”

“Uh-huh, say,” Efrain said, trying to piece the names beyond the vague historical context that he remembered them in, “do you remember the family trees?”

“The family trees? Of the houses? Well, I certainly could give a guess,” said the man, “incidentally, Karkosian history is something of a passion of mine.”

“Well then, the Eisen,” Efrain said, “I distinctly remember something about them. In my time it would’ve been about two hundred years. So, give or take four to five generations from now.”

The man thought for a moment, and snapped his fingers.

“I think I know what you’re looking for,” he said, “you’re wondering who master Nicolo married.”

Ah, that had indeed been it - Nicolo did always go on and on about this one girl, who Efrain was fairly sure was well beyond his league. She was an Eisen, now that the memories had jumped to the surface of his mind. No wonder the academy had generational funding if one of the founding fathers had married in.

“Yes, yes,” Efrain said, “I think she was a branch family member, if I recall correctly.”

“No, master Efrain, you’re mistaken,” said the man, wearing a fairly familiar expression - a combination of fear of failure to please, and taking delight in correcting an error in a field he knew quite a lot about.

“Oh?” Efrain said, “bold claim, mentor. Back it up.”

The man once more pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and began to recite.

“About a hundred-and-eighty years ago, master Nicolo married Hymatia Eisen. Hymatia Eisen was a daughter to Fielia Eisen, the matriarch of Eisen, hence he did not marry into a branch member of the family. He married into the direct, matrilineal line, represented by current matriach Aysatra, head of the Eisen family. Who is succeeded by, well…”

The man dropped his eyes, apparently embarrassed on behalf of the people he’d just named.

“Succeded by who?” Efrain said, leaning forward in the boat.

“Well, that’s the problem, master Efrain. In fact it’s one we currently struggle with. Oh, I do hate politics, but everything’s political in Karkos when money’s involved,” he said, putting on a expression reminiscent of a begging dog.

Efrain did not find it particularly charming, and pushed the man to go on.

“Well, that’s the thing,” he said, “the matriarch Aysatra, who is as youthful and vigorous as a woman half, no, a third of her age, is still well… older. There’s a clamour at the house of the Eisen on who’s supposed to replace her in the most deeply unfortunate event that she might… expire. No, no that make me sound like I’m talking about food and-”

“I get the point,” Efrain said, “spare me the flattery of a person who’s not even here. This matriarch doesn’t have a direct descendent?”

“Well, yes…” said the man, “but, it’s not exactly simple. The direct heir left the city some time ago.”

“And this relates to the academy, how?” Efrain said, “not that I care, just curious mostly.”

“Well, of course,” he said, “some at the house of Eisen… well, they think that our research and education is hopelessly outdated.”

“You mean useless,” Efrain said, more than ever wanting to get his hands on those notes and burn every copy he could find.

“Well, yes,” said the man, raising his hands in a gesture of helplessness, “some have used those words.”

“And you’re concerned that if they’re elected to leadership, your funding will be gone,” Efrain said flatly.

“Exactly. You’re quite insightful, just as the records suggested,” said the man, sniffing.

Before they could pick up the conversation, their polemen, dressed in the same blacks as the academy master, spoke up. They were before a river gate of sharpened palisades, which Efrain immediately recognized as the remnants of the old outer wall of the city, painted a bright red. The guards before it were dressed in ornate brass armour, studded with a set of small pearls and seashells.

Not quite the legion of sand and sea of old, though the aesthetic sense clearly meant to harken back to it. Efrain idly wondered how different the city would be if the legion actually still existed. In all the histories he’d read, most of their military exploits were suprisingly minimised, save for the few folk legends about them. Of course, most of those authors immediately left out the fact that almost all the legion commanders were women, which given many history writers were men, made sense.

The guards checked the proudly displayed pin, nodded, and opened the canal gates. Efrain immediately noticed the difference in the stone work as the passed beyond. It was more worn, but unmistakable paler, bringing back fond memories of days and nights spent in these canals over two centuries ago. He was just glad he was returning in a black, and not the horrid purple robes that he often inhabited while he was here.

The streets were noticeably quieter here, no doubt everyone was completing the final administration for the Festival. The buildings were also considerably older, their wooden slates near the water thick with strands of seaweed and barncles. Efrain more than once recognized the shape of an alley, or more noticeable deviations in the stonework. It was funny just how much he remembered of the old city and its details, and how little of his friends.

A couple of twists and turns, and Efrain started to recognize the part of the district he was in. Catching a glimpse of the mountains in the fading sunset, and a bridge or two he recognized, though they’d been significantly upgraded and replaced. With that information, he finally realised where they were, and more importantly, where they might be going.

“Noooo,” he groaned, “he didn’t.”

The mentor attempted to calm him, not understanding why he was so audibly distraught. The answer soon became quite clear as Efrain recognized the exact route they were taking. By the time they’d passed through the two statues, now dancing fish rather than the familiar wolves, Efrain’s worst fears had come true.

“He’d better not be buried on the academy grounds,” he said, his fingers fidgeting.

“I mean - and here we are!” said the academy master, clearly glad to move on to another subject.

Efrain looked up, nearly threw himself over the side, and forced himself to look up again. To say that it was exactly the way he remembered it would’ve been a lie. It had clearly expanded to include the surrounding pyramids, connecting them with bridges and walkways where what were presumably students passed by. The centre pyramid was kept more or less the same, with the same augurs drawing up water to the top, cascading it down in falls across terrace after terrace of gardens.

Refusing the offered hand, Efrain barged past him to take the steps two at a time.

“Wait! Wait master Efrain! I-” the man’s voice fell further and further behind as Efrain practically ran into the pyramid.

It was still a mess hall, but it was now one of long tables and high back chairs. The banners and plaques above proclaimed a short history of sport and scholarly achievement. Students, predominantly dressed in black, some with colourful stripes that Efrain didn’t bother to try to decode, stared at him. As did the cooks, still busy in the large kitchens that he himself had once manned.

The academy master had almost caught up to him when he took off again, striding through the aisle between the tables and out the other end of the pyramid. Yes, it was all the same, the same flower pots, and the marble steps and the little waterfall with the cracked edge. Two centuries, two bloody centuries, and Aimstand never bothered to fix the thing.

Efrain felt a internal bout of triumph at being proved right as he continued up the steps, before, finally, coming at last to the top.

The garden at the flat top of the pyramid was still as beautiful as ever, and the flowers he’d cultured still survived, although the blooms were less luminous than before. Efrain stepped out into the shallow pool that dominated most of the area, and noted that at the far end, where there used to be a stone bench, sat a gravestone.

“Found you, bastard,” he said, taking off towards it.

“Please, master!” said the man, practically sobbing if not for the fact he was out of breath.

Several of the more senior looking students had followed, looking totally flabbergasted at the display. Efrain did not stop, nor even look back at the procession, merely took off through the pool until he reached the steps to the little knurl of turf and flowers. There he stopped, parking his hands on his hips, staring at the inscription on the stone.

“Nicolo Eisen,” he said, drawing every word out, “Father, Teacher, Friend.”

“Muh-Master,” said the man, soaked up to his knees from his hurried splashing, “master, what-”

“Oh, calm yourself,” Efrain said, “I’m not going to do anything.”

The several students that had followed looked in utter confusion at the two men.

“Master?” one of them inquired, “should we get the guard?”

“No,” the man wheezed, bent over to catch his breath.

“Hold on a second,” Efrain said, bending over himself to gaze at the inscription, “what’s this?”

“That’s founder Nicolo’s grave, master Efrain,” said the mentor.

“Yes, I know that,” Efrain said, “I’m old, not blind. What’s this inscription below?”

“Oh yes, that,” he said, drawing himself back up to his full height, “It’s actually quite the mystery. No one really knows the language, but it was put there by order of founder Nicolo. Some of our teachers and students have spent quite a bit of time over the years to-”

“I’d told you I’d do it,” Efrain said.

“Pardon?”

“That’s- that’s what it- oh fuck you Nicolo!” Efrain said, “‘I’d told you I’d do it.’ That’s what it says!”

The mentor had gone white, while some of the students looked on the verge of fainting from confused apprehension.

“By all rights, I should burn this place down,” Efrain sneered at the stone, “is that what you wanted? ‘Founder’? If the gods were good, you’d still be alive, so I could kill you myself.”

“Please do not do that!” wailed the man, “I can’t understand for the life of me why you’re so angry! I thought you would’ve been happy, maybe even proud of what we’ve achieved!”

“I’m not angry at you, you idiot,” Efrain said, rounding on the man, “I’m angry at that smug piece of flotsam happily buried under his lovenest.”

“What?” said the mentor, the sentiment echoed by almost all the students present.

“All right, all of you, gather round. My first lesson,” he said, and, most likely out of habit, the students fell into a neat semi-circle.

“This will be a test of one question, and the one to get the answer right on their first response gets…” he turned to the mentor, “do you have some kind of regular award for achievement here?”

“Well, we do have ribbons that correspond to-”

“Great, first one to guess correctly gets a ribbon,” Efrain bowled through, “the question is this - why did Nicolo learn magic in the first place?”

The students stared at each other, daring the others to respond first.

“Well, come on,” Efrain said, “someone must have a theory.”

“Because he wanted to expand his own horizons?” a brown-haired boy said.

“Wrong!” Efrain said, “if your texts say that, they’re also wrong.”

“Because he wanted to shore up the city of Karkos’s defences while expanding on its knowledge?” said a girl with a slightly crooked nose.

“Also wrong,” Efrain said, shaking his head, “that’s exactly what he would say. You take that from a speech?”

“Well…” said the girl.

“Nicolo, you preening, self centered-” Efrain said, holding his head in his hands.

“To impress a girl?” said someone.

“Who said that?!” Efrain said, the class parting to reveal a younger, shaggy-looking boy.

“Well, you said that it was his ‘lovenest’ so…” he shrugged sheepishly.

“Mentor, get this young man a ribbon. If you need a reason, then cite him actually paying attention.”
[←Interlude II] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 62→]
submitted by The_Alloquist to redditserials [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 15:20 Bogey4hoo 'Surving The Win' - Chapter 009B.

'Faze'.
At the, "Dere-Licht," Manor, upon the Steps of the Stairs, a Smoked Pipe was placed. In the very Centre of the Meeting Hall (the Room off to the Side from the Bottom of the Stairwell), there was another one, as well. Okay well, throughout the entire building... More like, a GREAT number!
Avem had them placed all throughout that Rebuilt Old Character House, and within that Glorified Mansion, there were Smoked Pipes, In and On Cupboards, Resting Upon Windowsills (with the Drapes Pulled or Left Open), upon Countertops, Hidden Inside of Bookshelves (if not Resting Upon them), of course on the Mantle, Hidden In and Around Corners.. at Every End, Above and Slightly Adjacent to Entrances, and even some, which were included upon the Tabletops...
All of these Smoking Pipes, some with Ashen Remainders in them, some only Constructed Models of, what we imagine, would have been kept for their Interest Sake, were watched by a Careful Set-Up, of Video Surveillance.
The Surveillance, Signaled Hanging Display Monitors, all throughout the House, and also at Avem's Lab in Tokyo. Some of these Monitors, were Hanging from the Ceiling, at the Walls, Facing Down and Into the Rooms. Others, in the Bedrooms, were Level with Sitting Chairs, where one might want to Sit Down and Look At Them.
They were Set Up, Primarily, To Catch Every Angle and Motion of Light or Shadow Upon or Within the Pipes. This Recording of Smoked Rememberances, took place Every Night and Day, from the Rising to the Setting of the Sun, all Throughout the Years. What were the Ashes for?

Granny Smith, he yelled. I'm telling you! She didn't believe him one bit. And you pretend you weren't looking for me!?...
She interrogated him fearsomely. Do you know who I am???
Do you know who I am, "Roared," Perry, back at her, bleakly. He was terrified. Though, he somehow managed to pull off a tone, which mirrored her own, with mock mavery.
Down the hall, there was a beep. Close the door, Swarma commanded, looking out through the interrogation Room's Exit. There was the sound of a, "fwoosh," and a, "click," outside of it. Nobody had been at the Exit, either to push or to pull it's heavy door, closed. There was also no telling, of where that other door might be. She took a swab and daubed Perry with it quickly, before leaving. Wait right here, she cackled, smiling a leerily-wisening old grin, as she left him to total.
What's doing this to you? shrieked Ren. June had actually been, in all fact, sobbing and in dread. Her body, becoming purple, as it was, "cast," with some thick layer of unknown chrysoform, which continued to cover her in variegating patches, no matter how much she scratched or peeled. It seemed to keep leaking out from her pores in beads, which coalesced over her skin, recombined, and matted. Heaving, she threw a chunk at the Vending Machine.
She was sitting in Emergency, having just made it through Triage. These are for you, said the Faithful and Believing, Catholic Lady Friend of Wells, who passed her some Pamphlets from the Lecture.
The Professor had stopped everything, to see to it that this kind Lady, would bring Juniper to ER, post-haste. June had brought Ren along as a Study Buddy, for Note-Taking, with a Bribe.
Initially, June went out to the Mountains, to collect Perry's belongings from the Rented Cabin. Upon arriving back in town, both she and Ren decided to Drive out to the College for a Lecture, and to Sight-See, while asking people around the Area if they had Seen or Heard from Perry. Could he be haunting her somewhere? Was there any hope?
Although... the Professor HAD, abruptly interrupted his Lecture to find one of his CPR-trained staff to escort Juniper to the nearby Hospital E.R., in the event that she might not make it there herself, and was, "Truly," facing a Medical Crisis.
The Vending Machine, went lame, and the lights in ER flickered for a moment. I'm getting creeped, said Ren. That's all!
June's problem stemmed back, from when she ate the Oatmeal, which Perry had left behind at the Cabin, while she was inside it, looking at a Newspaper and Doodling.
Some of Avem's Team, had been in the Trails previously, and Driven a Snowmobile through them, tracing Chemicals through the Snow. A or Spoken Split. It had been at just one of her Lab's Testing Zones.
Avem had caught onto Perry, first, when her Voice Exploded from a Crackling Ice Wyrm/ “i”’Sāqa-Šaqqa, in the Cabin's Fireplace.
Avem had been Writing her Vocals into the Chemical Strains of the Ice-Wyrm Constituency Potion, which she concocted in her Lab, and Spread Rumours about, then Codifying it with Automatic Cyber-Sentience Response-Forms, which took initiatives, based on Environmental Factors, and in turn, fed back Information. This Data, was made readable by her Reverse Tonic, which Tabulated it, by Codices, which had Variables in her own Mental Inter-Framing. Cog-Notes, if you will, to her own Cognition. All of, these, Variables, which entered her Consideration, let her Pry, both on Known, and Unknown, Territories. She frequently Drank her Cyber-Tonic from a Vial in her Lab, while going over Her Work.
Perry Wheeled, and Stumbled around the Room, trying to avoid the Icicle Firecrackers, which were Sounding Off whenever he Slid and/or Stepped upon them. He'd apparently been Mega-Dosed, and was now about to Learn what in the World of a Mega-Dosed, Felt Like when Under and In It.
The Wyrms were Sounding Off, in an Acoustics Array, and Perry, Bounded and Rebounded Turning Listless as the Chrysalids Exited him, and Becoming Reinterred into Motion Again, by their Sounds. He was now, well... Not Feeling Like a Perry. That and he was Done, Done, and, "Roared," out. He could No Longer even Find his Own Vocal to Bless How He Felt. Avem came back in, when the Turnabout was Over. She had Observed Perry by a Camera Hidden in the Room, which was Hooked up to her Monitors for Surveillance, as well. Turning on a Ventilation Fan, from outside, which led the Room's Air into a Separate Chamber, she had Two People, Dressed in Dark Robes, walk in, and move Perry back to his Chair, now Limp. They Swept Up, the Remaining Crystalline Deciduates, and Drains Opened, which Took the Little Bit of Liquidine Debris, Out of the Room. Perry, was now Toned.
Swarma, Placed her Hand on his Forehead, at First to Take his Temperature, and then, Mentally Calibrating his Vocal Remembrance within Herself, Uttered a Word to him, While he sat Slumped over the Chair, Catatonic. The Word.
And Therein, may be a Key... His Subconscious Mind, would most certainly Remember. She Had Uttered It, in His Very Own Vocal Tone. Why? It Rendered him Cognizant and Triggered His Mentality, as though His Own... Though, Truly?... Her Own.
Perry was allowed, with the other Time Wraiths as escort, to slowly move around the Manor and familiarize himself with it. He was being taught by them, how to remain very still for long periods of time. Many of the Time Wraiths, were flown out to the Lab down in Tokyo, to use the computers on their Night-Watch Network. The Lab there, housed her prized Hua Niu ("Black Diamond") Apple, Bonsai, kept under specialized lighting, plus numerous other artefacts. It was set up like somewhat of a Museum, with one dimly lit, humming room for computer observancy, which apart from Monitor glare, left much to the realm of the keen observer.
The 34, often formed a Large Pentagram, with two people at each of the five elemental points, two people between each elemental point encompassing, two people between each elemental point intersecting, two people in the very centre, and two people encircling round about. Underneath them, was stone masonwork in black basalt, and a large star outline, traced with gold inlay.
A chandelier hung above them, and the room had an overview of the gated entrance, where birds were often seen in trees, and light could pour in, but at night, the glass of these windows turned sheet-black to buffet them in, high enough up that none might peep.
By no commotion of ceremony, the participants would stand and hear the NicNeven recite her Canon address. The fruits her Science had yielded, sounded in the Hall, and into their collective memory, which disbanded when they did, after she read from her book.
The book, made from gene paper, was their Canon, and this... only a meeting hall. Despite its congressional form, summons were not of sell out to World Teachings. She ranked as their Science-elected, matriarch, of mental-modernity, by the facet of old typings and tyings, to, "new," teachings.
Ruminations from the fruits of her labwork, thereat would be discussed. For if nobody would have them, they most certainly would. Then, and only then, would the lines be codographed (some of the Night-Watch, were also very good hackers). They were secretly culted-over, but by few, and their practicum bore method, not mere devotion. The team were, "Nec-Will'O’Mancer"-affiliate.
An Addendum/Add-On on The Hadena/Gaudy Hadibi/Gift, Out Of Hades/Hell, by Hoodoo (Through Sinter Croft Sinchery, or, alleged Ho-Doctorate).
~ In Other Words: The Elaborately Sinched False-Label on Tobacco Smoke. ~

That It Came From, Túḫ-ḫa-a-iz-zi: "To Produce Smoke."
A Variant Of This Hittite Language Word (In Imperative Plural), Is, "Tuḫḫāndu."

Because, 'Tuh': Means to, "Pour"/"Give Birth"/"Lay Eggs"/"Touha (Which, implies, by, "Desire")," And/Or, "Tuha," https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuh
This, As Well As, 'Tuhh': "Thousand"/"Grand"/"Tonn,” by the Proponent of Measure. https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuhh
&
... 'Tuha': "Tuba." https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/туъһа
Where, ... 'Tuba' (Malay Language): Is a, "Poison That Is Made Out Of Root." https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/tuba
Plus, it’s, 'Tuba' (Malay Language), Gives "Duva (Fijian Language),"
For 'Dūbǭ' (Dutch Language): https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/Reconstruction:Proto-Germanic/dūbǭ * 'Dūbǭ', Can Mean, "Dove." *
Thus, “Height.” Though, Holy Spirit (Or Prayers) still, “Intemn”/”Imprison,” you as Indebted by Material Snare (Karmic-Causal Renditions), if not off of it.

~ After Tuh, Which Too, Is Tuha.. And Tuha, Which With Tuhh, Is Thousand.. ~
... Kamba Language: "Andu,” for, “Mundu."
• Making, "Tuḫḫāndu."

The Reason Why, Is Because,
"Andu (Kamba Language)": "Mundu,"
And "Mundu (Kamba Language)": "A Man,"
When,
"Mʊ̀ntʊ̀ (Proto-Bantu Language)": "Kɪ̀ntʊ̀"/"Thing,"
And "Kɪ̀ntʊ̀"/"Thing,"
When Translated To Nyasa, Chichewa Language: "Chinthu."
This Last Addition Indicates The
  • "Co."
Which Is, The, "Man," "Thing," Or, "World," Of It, So To Speak.
Which Would Be The World, If Not By Dove-Letterate.
  • Jehu, Jehu, He’ish I Say too. *
Ishi (Hosea). …
  • Anyhow, the Natives know it by another name. Hope you've enjoyed the Lesson!
What did you have me on? Some sort of Cerelium Slick? El, in Perry, broke out bawling. Something so licentious that I can’t tell I’m licked. HaHa.
His stupor adored him with affection, and he had a hammering affectation from it. It caused him to clout his knowing, though only briefly.
Perry came through, yamming… I’m looking back on days of Candy Cloaker Gobstoppers! You mean you literally had me erased… or, where am I?
You Hide no Burger, in Finding Fries, Perald. Daytime is where I have you.
At that, there had been an unconventional or out-of-the-norm convening, where not-an-one of all the attendants had-in, to agree, "We are Necropolitan"... Though, their greed to know, would grow.
Perry led himself back in, looking for his girlfriend, strangely feeling sold out of his nut.

Ironically, it was just at that point that Juniper had made it there. She too was undergoing her thought detexturing, “rinse,” that is, the opposite of any detox, after looking like a Raisin May's, “In.”
This was to be the, “Turnabout (a new Ceremony was declared by Avem’s Host in Relative-Caster Company, and held somewhat like a House Party).”
A $9,000.00 Maitland Smith Dollhouse Bar Cabinet, was off in isolated room of the newly Renovated Manor, with a load of Porcelain Dolls and cameras to watch it.
That room was off limits.
Juniper had had it in her know long afore, in dream. Now to hack Avem… oh, where?

"Osa," circuit of my air... How can, "I," enfold you? Swarma asked, with a vestitude, which only, behooved to surmise her, with surreptitious guiltiness of paridyllic refrain.
She, “The NicNeven,” winked meaningfully, holding an extremely rare pipe up, skyward.
The Time Wraiths all sat, in their, “F”arm-Ended Theatre apart from the once-Ballroom.
Quieting down, it was in their circle that a cast occurred, but in truth they were no relative summoners and Avem’s Mafia had elected them afresh.
That is… that as they were all a, somewhat afraid and eerily sketched out, “Fresh Crop,” yet and though, she would in fact, have them richly afforded, in Good Time.

Avem’s Mafia had sent the former Nec-Will’O’Mancers over to her Manor for the Renovations.
Avem, then, was Crowned, “Accorded,” and the Newly Selected Time Wraiths, could be Trained.
Avem’s Clue In, in her new Role, while in her old Manor seemed to live in it’s espies.
I mean, they must have had her drugged for the whole house to be enchanted, somehow, but the only question is who set it up, and when?
One of her clues, came from a former Nec-Will’O’Mancer silently shadow-encoaching a novice approved in the group, by his far larger boding of path had, in-the-off. She heard the man in her head as well, ruling that Smith had to explore her ties in the Mafia, through rank, a second time, and thus a later, termed-submission as a right of accession, had been officed.
She, once again (the man went over in his mind) being indoctrinated into Mafia rank, though slowly, because her freedom-release methods, were her own merital device, and she needed a longer time to work at them.
Avem, had canned herself intentionally, to stay at a head, but nobody fully knew, how it was done.
Reptilian Mind Control.
-‐-
How could that be?
Look to the Wind, and we shall ride. ~ "Phantom Riding The Whip," where one is not standing on top of a vehicle, but rather, riding over a different type of, "Whip," as a, "Phantom-Circuit." ~
"Now we admonish," they recited.
"Peace be," stated the NicNeven. She inhaled from the lit pipe.
They all, “doned,” her infuriatingness, with amicability.
Now yes, your highest love, and what’s our gift they forecried, awaiting something.
Not of in an any Dib of forgery… You will undoubtedly see. She canned.
Please don’t mess us or master us mental, Avem, one girl joked, admitting the kind dark lair WAS weird.
That's Missus, Avem relegated ghasting.

Now, I have here the document they stole it from, a man entering the room said. He read aloud,
The remains of a, "chicote"/"cigar butt"/"cigarette butt."
The Nec-Will'O'Mancers, then stated in unison, reading off of the pamphlets they'd previously been handed out, though in a less clear-and-determined tone, or well (it seemed), in a way that hummed and wandered.
"... Far l'fo, Ho glow. How we sway. How does a hard tar, Lie her thieu, In a chi, icy high..."?
When they were finished reciting, the man continued speaking.
By, "sukunai," "少ない," the man continued in Japanese… a word, which means, "few or little," with the root word, "少し ("すこし," "sukoshi").""
Avem exhaled. "The synonym for, which is, "chotto," she said. So yes... in other words? "A little." "ちょっと ("chotto")," may I add, it has a root word in the adverb, "chito..." "... "ちと ("chito")," as in, "slightly," "a little," "a bit," or, "somewhat," where, "ち ("chi," means, “small”)," and, "と ("to," is an adverbial particle). "と ("to")," is also a noun, which is short for, "と金 (tokin)," which will now indicate a promoted, "歩兵 ("fuhyō," or, "pawn”)," that, "moves," like a, "金将 ("kinshō," or, “gold general”).""
Thus, what might have been inferred, perhaps, was that a, "Chicote," in a pipe, was, more or less, alike unto a, "Chi Chót," if it did indeed implicate such.
A, "Chót," of course, meaning something at the, "Bottom," "Lowest Extremity," or, "End," of something, and from there, or at that point, perhaps even then moving forward.
Chicote, apart from being a form of Tobacco, was also, in all truth, a form of, "Whip," known for being a Scourge, in places like the Congo.
The NicNeven, had already caught wise to this, and also how, this form of Tobacco, may have had it's own "Xicohtli (a Nahuatl word, for, "Bumblebee")."
I guess, what needed to be said most (as a nod to the Indigenous People), was that they were good to hold a Peace over the Herb, and also Bow...
Some people may have needed a Peace Blessed over them, knowing the Nature of how all Words exist with ties to Power.

This time, however, she was not merely dreaming with the pipe. She aimed to begin work on something more pivotal. Holding her peace, over them, as though the Time Wraiths had not, in fact, been led by her to keep a different mindset, themselves, she kept them aware, of the part of her mind they were let in by.
A part, they would not be able to share. When inhaling, she did so with a strickening wind, through sympathetic diacords and resonance fields, and from a region locked onto by the Time Wraiths collective awareness. The NicNeven (we presume, remaining silent somewhere at the top of an, "imaginary," but quite irregal, circuit of Heaven, and with her pipe), had her whole lot hidden safely away, and blessed unseen.
She, "wind-let," her chosen remote area, with the pipe, from a distance, as though it were a whip and a scourge, creating yet another (this time stronger), bane.
Her smoke summons, were such that, she hoped to collect and open them, one day, as a portal, to dawn on the World.
As for the pipe vision. This one was well formed. She might have make a centrepiece of it, on table somewhere.
Many of them, rested on glass plates, with glass cases overtop. After their Surveillance Circuit had run, "Ash-Line Data," or, "Pipe Particle Intel," was fed through a Computer on the Ash-Configuracy, Analysis-Observancy Program, of the, 'Night-Watch Circuit', of the, "Time Wraiths"-Network, and for a Number of Reasons...
One, being that the Data, would often be used to reproduce these, "In-Pipe Visions," as, "Viable Product-for-Sale ("Furnishings from the, "Furnace,"" so-to-speak)," and so they needed a Good Record of Analysis kept for Reproduction. "Pipe Reproductions," would be made using more Durable Materials, and Non-Smokable Materials. The Data, would also allow the group to Configure Predictions of Ash-Shift, with a Matrix, once Measurements and Variables were Plugged into an appropriate Coded Program Logarithm, which helped them see, potential Shift Patterns, which may yet arise. The Furnishings, were to be kept as Permanent Pipes... Artefacts, for the Mansion, and Museum, of Swarma.
'Necrolith Spectre'. ~ The NicNeven's, "Necrolith Spectre," had a very real premise. She, had drawn Chi through her Summon of Feiz, by a Fix. ~
"Chi (# 14)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E3%81%A1
"Summon ("Korean," Language)": 徴 https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E5%BE%B4#Japanese
"Feiz ("Zhuang," Language)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/feiz#Zhuang
"Fix ("Bouyei," Language)": https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/fix
Andrew wrote obscurely,
My thought is that the Jinwen Bian, Bronze Inscription, of, "Fá (in the Mandarin Language)," ties itself over to, "Fät (in the "Volapük," Language)," and thus relates to, "Fate," and, "Karma."
"Fat (in the Cantonese Language)," means, "Buddha," and is related to, "Fá (in Mandarin)," while, "Fät (in the Voläpuk Language)," is characteristic of, "Buddhist Philosophy."
Does anyone else see the Structure of the Modern, "Wheel," in the Mandarin, "Fá?" - A.W.T. (November 18th, 2020).
  • No-one knew why. *
‘A, “Marrow Vin Gean”’.
The Holy Spirit Sword cuts through to the Marrow. This is intended to mean that it is versatile. Only, more to the point, that it is not intended for vice.
How this happens, is that it has verses, in tandem occurrence, operating in relevant reflection, on Scripture, and is designed to heal. That is… before having thought of attack or rendering anyone ineffectual.
Wisdom from Jesus, in Scripture, teaches us, that, without Doctrinal relevance, and Revelation, we live on a Dying Planet and cause it.
~ Falling out of our mouths, if I may add. ~ The tongue is a venomous instrument, which apart from destroying, needs to be bridled with Scriptural Truth and or the Gospel, or healing falls away from what we know of vital spirit, sowing, growing, engrafting, and planning.
However picking up on any dead line of “Prayer Chain (for things truly are, by introspection, a righteously bidden, divine godly judgement's in of how to live by a planetary Monodeism and not just by correspondence, but mainly faith in Him),” to help, Christianly, defeat the death of the soul. [Angelic parameters, of what’s barred, of course had in, or it’s out a’barren]
Marrow is where the Blood Cells are created before reaching the Circulatory System.
This is in the bone.
Luz is the Catholic-Bidden Vertebrae/Spinal Column Bone for Resurrection.
As Jesus commands one to Live or the Tree not to grow for being of ill time, Our lines have a prayer solvency to that line of fess, by the Vin, or vine, and gean or Spirit.
However, Merovingeans are babylonian Dragon order. We needed it bidden less graven.
  • Remember the Holy Ghost is of the Burning Bush, with Moses, in Exodus, in The Holy Bible (and not only there).
A Spirit Sword (Of The LORD), bids first how to save. One, “should,” not desire to dare another into fire, as God graces the time by his hand.
Made of Heaven, wise, the sword knows the hairs on the heads of the utilizers and counting unequal, may perform.
That is, off for bolder lead, and even balded for baring, out of the Worker’s Parable of God’s Constance and Unequal Nature, bearers of it's Fire, may see, and do oft’ find some in their know, of the Church Hold on Word.
Obvious?
This is the Rate Of Pay, in the Vineyard Parable, of the Workers who worked (un-in Mammon), for their Lord (Christ), earlier, and then some other, later (ie. When, in Truth, found bidden in and by Him, a fair constant is maintained, no matter World Climate, in the Fellowship), for and not toward, the forever, for they may not be bidden.
God unriddled.
Jesus, is the Amen in Revelations 3:14, He Ransoms Believers Souls, through Self Sacrifice and Sovereign Service, his father, created and lawed through the covenants, and the commandments, and owned all heaven host and hierarch, and the Holy Spirit, Blessed the Way.
'On What Could Have Been'.
An expensive matryoshka was brought in for Ralph to look at...
He received the package at his Estate, and had a hard time with his spectacles, adjusting them trying to read the fine print.
The brown paper parcel, with white sticker, opened to a smaller purple gift box, within it. The gift box was about the size of an order of chow mein, and from within the lilac tissue paper inside, was a golden doll. Andrei, Fu, and Evelyn, had driven back and were now seated around Mr. Dizzmith.
Well, here it is, he stated. No word of who it's from, not to mention that I'm not working anymore.
Is it another antique asked Andrei?
Yes, and well, I think it is, replied the Senior, but the thing is, I don't know how to open it. It's a Matryoshka or Russian Nesting Doll, and this one is rather expensive, but the Middle Circumference of the Doll has a Twistable-Dial Lock, and I've never known that to be the case before.
Would you wager all the others inside it are like that, too? asked Evelyn. I know what Matryoshkas are, but you're right. This one DOES seem a little bedeviled.
Perhaps said Ralph.
Do you think there is anything inside, asked Fu.
It looks a little weighty. Is it a bomb? Asked Evelyn.
Nobody would bomb a man like Mr. Dizzmith, said Andrei, but just to be on the safe side, I'll look it up. Andrei pulled out his Smart Phone.
Most bombs don't have Passcodes, said Fu. Look, the Passcode is right here on the box.
It says the code can be adjusted and is made to be matrilineal.
This is most definitely a finely-crafted specimen then, but how does it work? asked Ralph.
Well, it looks like every Doll has two turnable dials at the vertical middle, which run horizontal and around the circumference. These are adjusted from within, when open, and numerically set with dates for a passcode, before the top and bottom on each doll are latched, that is. Each doll is secured, around and over the former one, which has been latched or fastened, and each, in so doing, has its dials consecutively scrambled from the outside, before putting the next doll on it. The dolls are hollow, and increase in scale, to fit, while the locks operate by Birth Years of mothers, or rather, daughters. If one Mother or Grandmother, leaves a Sum, in her Will, to the, 'Matryoshka Fund', it will Increase in Interest, and if they send an Heirloom in With the Money, once the Company is Informed of the Birth of the Final Child, they will send the Doll to the Final Child, Heirloom within It. The Family History, and Records are Sent too, as the Locks are Set with Birth Years, of Mothers, in Chronological Order or First to Last, and this Prevents the Wrong Families from Accessing the Contents.
If No Contents, are Sent by the Ancestral Will-Bearer, Gifts-in-Shop, may also be Included, upon Initial Order Selection.
The Company/Fund, occasionally Touches Base with the Families, but this is Less Common.
Who is it for? asked Evelyn.
I have no idea, but there's some Weird Vial in it!
What could it be of, though?
Well, Matryoshka's are generally not compartments, made use of, for containing things, but this appears to be a Vial of Oil.
"Oyle," is a rare name for the Saviour, "Jesus Christ," remarked Andrei.
"Oyle ("Middle English," Language)": # 2.4. https://en.m.wiktionary.org/wiki/oyle Maybe an Heiress, then? said Ralph. WHO could she have been?!
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2023.06.07 14:50 kiplet1 [City of Roses] no. 27.2: “The first order of Business” – at This table – antique Punk bullshit – the Basics of Security

[City of Roses] no. 27.2: “The first order of Business” – at This table – antique Punk bullshit – the Basics of Security
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tends to crumble
“The first order of business,” says the man at the head of the table, “in any face time we take with potential occupancy partners, we need to assess how the anticipated anchor’s gonna impact their appraisal and availability approach.” It’s a long table, a slab of wood the color of pale flesh, polished to a striking gleam that’s broken here and there by a phone or a computer tablet laid before this person or that, until down at the very other end of it, a couple of comb-bound reports bristling with post-it flags, a spill of colorful diagrams, a worn redweld holding a couple of file folders upright, a small black notebook splayed open, the wispy scratch of a fountain pen, APPRAISAL written in ruddy black ink, AVAILABILITY , then three sharp underscores. “It’s not,” the man at the head of the table is saying, “that we anticipate an antagonism toward the anchor, on the part of any potential partners?” His flat grey suit’s a touch too big, the collar of his soft blue shirt’s undone, his sparse beard neatly trimmed. “But by anticipating,” he says, “their respective stances vis-à-vis their individualized brand engagement profiles which, let me assure you, we will be reviewing in a thorough manner before we, we take up any,” he’s trailing off, “tête-à-têtes,” blinking quizzically. The room about them’s walled in cool sheets of green-tinged glass on all four sides and more beyond refracting, reflecting, shimmering desk lamps and fluorescents, computer screens, heads popping up over cubicle walls, turning, following the figure swimming up through them, one glass door after another opening before her, “I,” says the man at the head of the table, “excuse me,” as the final glass door swings open, she’s sweeping into the room, Ysabel in her long white coat. “I tried to tell her,” someone’s saying, a receptionist maybe, bobbing in her wake, and “Do you mind,” says an older man, halfway down the table, a hand on his phone on the wood, but she’s glaring at the very other end of the table. “How dare you,” she says.
“Sorry, folks,” says Lymond, screwing the cap onto his fountain pen. “Think we might have the room a minute?”
“I, um,” says the man at the head of the table, “we just got started?”
“And we’ll get right back into it,” says Lymond. “I’m really looking forward to hearing more about this brand engagement. Now,” pushing back his chair, “if you don’t mind,” but already they’re filing out, shirts and blouses of dull green, milky blue, an intrepid puce, awkwardly around past Ysabel all in white. “Um,” says the man who’d been at the head of the table, in his flat grey suit.
“Thanks,” says Lymond, cheerfully. The green glass door swings shut. “How dare I?” he says, to Ysabel. “I’m the King. A certain latitude’s expected.”
“You could’ve gotten her killed,” says Ysabel.
“They’re watching, you know,” he says, tucking a report into the redweld. “Go on. Lean over the table. Slap me. That should be enough to undo all his sacrifice secured.”
She blinks at that, draws back. “Sacrifice,” she says.
“He thought of it as such,” says Lymond, stacking up those diagrams, tapping their edges against the wood. “Now. Slap me, or turn about, and go home.”
“Not until you explain yourself, brother.”
“Oh, Ys,” he says. “If you would play at this table,” he’s tucking the diagrams into a file folder, “you must pay attention.” A wince, as he sets the folder aside. “We find ourselves upon a crux: the duel between the Devil and the Huntsman redounded to our favor, yet the wound’s but freshly healed. Any sudden shift might tear it right back open.” His hands, folded together before him, a thumb pressed tight against a knuckle. “Is that what you would have?”
“I’ve seen the wound,” she says. “He nearly cut her through. The owr does what it can,” and she looks up from the tabletop to meet his eyes, one brown, one blue, both cold. “She sleeps. She’s been asleep since the Mason brought her home.” Leaning down now, both hands planted on the glossy wood. “I’m doing you a courtesy, by answering a question I assume you would eventually have asked?”
A bitter something of a smile. “How is Jo,” he says, “how Jo is, I know how is our Gallowglas: loyal, and effective. I trusted her to do what needed doing, and she went and got it done. Now,” over her sharp intake of breath, “I ask, once more. You know what is at stake. Do you mean to stand against any particular point of our plan?” Leaning in close. “Slap me,” he says. “Or go home.”
She steps back, she turns away. Before she can open the green glass door he says, “Take care, sister, where and when you might vent any further displeasures?” Looking down, at his folded hands. “Our tantrums are expensive.”
“You’ve no idea,” she says, “what could’ve spilled from her heart, had his stroke been a whit more true.”
She opens the door. He shifts his thumb. The thin line of a neat straight cut along the edge of his forefinger, sewn with tiny beads of dark red blood. He lifts it to his lips. “Um,” says someone, the man in the flat grey suit a touch too big, peering into the room. “Everything good?”
“Paper cut,” says Lymond, waving him in. “C’mon, let’s go. Take it from the top.”

Well and I don’t know, dim voices floating up through floorboards loosely laid across the joists, not what we discussed, poets and junkies, epic, like some, there’s a mirror, there’s no one in the mirror, there’s a crack in the glass of it jagged, chased and dappled, splotched with gold, a spangled haze, such a history, working together, that didn’t work, a drip-drip trickle from the faucet, puddles on gold-streaked marble about the sink, but there, it’s gonna be epic, dust gone dark to grey, to black, a lump of it mucked up under the mirror, with the shreds of a burst plastic baggie, this, or this, or this. There’s music, too, loud but languid, strummed guitars, a melodeon, but she’s sitting up in the dark, her head in her hands, and there is no mirror, no light, no sinks or water, no marble countertop, but there is the dust, spangled, glimmering in the milky cloud of her hair, and still the music.
“Well if we have to have a name,” says Gloria Monday.
“It’s something to put on a poster,” says the woman sitting on the nubbled pea-green couch, one hand braced on the curled handle of an orthopædic cane, a big brown scaley purse in her lap.
“Well if that’s all we want,” says Gloria, wrestling to one side a great stretched canvas, a twirling figure calligraphed in slashes of black, to reveal another propped behind it, the next wild scribble of dance. She steps back, behind a tiny silver camera atop a stolid tripod, stoops to peer through it. “We could call it the Lawn,” she says, snapping a picture. Straightening, she looks back and forth, from the painting, to the image of it, now on the enormous white-framed monitor behind her there on the worktable.
“As in get off the?” says the woman standing off to one side, her long black coat done up with brightly silver buttons, and a little grey snap-brim hat on her head.
“That’s not what we discussed,” says Anna in her houndstooth trousers, narrow black-rimmed glasses glaring in the light.
“The house,” says Gloria, taking hold of the canvas. “Run-down and falling apart and poets and junkies and twenty bedrooms to one bathroom and full of,” lifting, “epic,” hoisting it aside, “legend, and, and art,” to reveal the next. “The Lawn,” says Gloria Monday. Her feet are bare, laddered tights printed with overlapping gears, her vast white T-shirt says Robot Fightin’ Boots.
“I liked Weatherall’s,” says Anna. “If we’re going to change it.”
“Yeah, well,” says Gloria, stooping behind the camera again.
“Sounds like some Harry Potter shit,” says the woman in the long black coat.
“Jilting of,” says Gloria, snapping another picture. “Granny Weatherall? Been a while, since you been in high school?” The woman on the couch snorts up a laugh, sits up, hefting her cane. “How about,” she says, pointing the wide rubber foot of it out, toward the cavernous space beyond, “this building,” the boxes, equipment, the bulks of whatever it is under tarps shoved off to either side, stacked in the stalls that one by one march down the long high walls, “the history,” soaked in soft grey light depending from up under the rafters, the windows there scrubbed clean of filth, scraped clear of paint, “a name should honor that.”
“It was a warehouse for vegetables,” says Gloria.
“A farmers’ market,” says the woman on the couch, “built by Italian immigrants, working together. Cooperatively.”
“Snot Market,” says Gloria, “Grime Market, that didn’t work,” grabbing the next canvas, “Pus Market has a certain punch,” hauling it aside, “but Anna didn’t like any of those, and anyway it’s antique punk bullshit. Effluvial Plane I kinda liked, but that’s too, much, y’know?”
“How old are you?” says the woman all in black.
“Fuck you,” says Gloria. “That’s how old I am.”
“Gloria,” says Anna.
“No, fuck this,” snarls Gloria. “We got the space. We’re doing the thing. It’s gonna be epic. And you can either get on board, get your, people, involved,” the woman on the couch, clutching her purse, “you can write about it like you know what’s gonna happen,” the woman all in black, hands in her pockets, smirking, “or you can scramble to catch up after, like everyone else.”
“Ms. Thorpe, we must apologize,” says Anna, after a moment, but “No, no,” says the woman all in black, “tempers run hot and you let them out and that’s fine, and then you stop and you take a deep breath and you think. Maybe you do this, or maybe tomorrow you’re kicked out for squatting. You don’t – ”
“Hey, Anna!” says Gloria. “What’s the owner got to say, about us being here?”
“There are no objections,” says Anna, but Thorpe looks away, rolling her eyes. “I did my homework,” she says, lifting her little grey hat, “or I wouldn’t be here at all,” scratching her head, her dark hair short, swept back. “You’re Suzette Wilson, you’re Tom Wilson’s daughter, and I’m sorry for your loss, but the title to this pile is hardly as clear-cut as,” but Gloria’s saying, “This, this is my place,” as Thorpe says “that’s before we even get into the questions of insurance, and zoning, and inspections,” but Gloria’s shouting “S1! Last Thursday! The Teahouse! You think they waited around for fucking paperwork?”
Anna and the woman on the couch, watching them both, Gloria seething, Thorpe settling her hat on her head, “Well,” she’s saying, tucking her hands in the pockets of her coat, “S1 is street-legal now, yeah, and the Teahouse? That was in Sellwood? Long gone. And you have any idea how much the merchants on Alberta pay the city for extra cops?” A shrug, and that smirk warms to something more sympathetic. “You want to beg forgiveness instead of ask permission and I can respect that, but there’s this delicate balance. You gotta be big enough to get noticed, but you can’t be so big you get noticed, you know?” Looking out, over the cavernous space below. “And all this you want to do in a week.” Turning back, hands spread in a hapless shrug, a burble of sound, “I like you,” she says, “I do, I like the idea,” looking up. It sounds like someone’s singing up there.
Up there, up at the edge of the planks laid across the joists, up by the brief ladder bolted to the wall a couple of long bare legs kicked over and orange underpants, ee, ee-oh nor, the keening voice a grunt, doo da-da dee, doo da-da dee, down the ladder to the walkway up there, a wild mad cloud of white-gold hair, “and quickly was received, enthusiastically,” and Thorpe looks down, over at the paintings leaned, at the image on the enormous monitor. “Some say that it had more to do with her,” the singer’s making her way, hand on the railing, “improper sense of dress, than her talent, or her diligence,” opening a door up there, painted with letters that possibly once said Ranchers, or Gardeners, and closing it muffles her song. “I’m sorry,” says Anna, drawing back their attention. “It seems Marfisa forgot we were meeting this morning.”
“I’ve seen,” says Thorpe, “I’ve heard her, before.”
“Salt and Straw,” says the woman on the couch, but then, lifting a finger, “no, that’s the ice cream.”
“She kinda came with the place,” says Gloria. Up there a crash of water, flushing, that door opens, Marfisa’s stepping out, “Cartier Bresson!” she shouts. “Max Ernst, Paul Eluard, George Bataille,” as she’s making her way back along the wall above them. “Their misogyny really irritated her, but she wasn’t, she,” stopping, standing there, wavering a little, looking down at them. Absently scratching just beneath a breast, and sunlight flashing from the gold dust spangling her skin.
“I heard you play once,” says Thorpe, abruptly.
Her wide smile spreading, Marfisa tips back her white-gold head, “Lee, ee-oh nor!” she sings, reaching for the ladder. “Lee, ee-oh nor!” Climbing back up toward the makeshift floor above.
“Stone and Salt!” says the woman on the couch. “That was it.”

Ding the microwave, she opens the door of it, reaches in with a hot pad for a steaming pink mug that says Sophia & Dorothy & Blanche & Rose. In she dunks a purple octopus infuser, dandling its delicate chain a moment. Color blooms.
Out of the kitchen, across the living room, dark wood paneling, grey-green shag, shuff and snap of her slippers into a nook of a hall, too brightly lit. She nudges open a door left ajar, into a small dark room lit only by sunlight staining the edges of heavy curtains drawn, and almost entirely filled by a great wide bed. “I’ve brought tea,” she says, setting the mug on the nightstand in the corner. “Hey.” Sitting on the edge of the bed. “I called Reg,” she says, reaching along the margin of the thick dark comforter, and a gentle stroke for the blond head there, turned away. “Told him we’d need another week. He wasn’t happy, but hey. Fuck him.” Tucking a lock of her own hair, as blond, as straight, behind her ear. “Chrissie,” she says. “Chér.”
“I don’t want any tea.”
“Yeah, well,” says Ettie, and she gets to her feet with a sigh. “This would be why I stick with men. They can’t break your heart.”

The door swings open, for a moment all’s revealed, scarred floor and drifts of grit against the bar, peeling dimpled paint along the front of it and its cracked vinyl bumper, dust furring the bottles along the top shelf, the washed-out flyspecked neon lights, the bartender, spiky hair flared palely to a golden brown, hand up against the raw daylight, skinny arm festooned with shadowy tattoos, “Jacks?” says Jessie, blinking, but the light’s swallowed away as the door swings shut, and dimness closes about the warm neon, the sparkle of glass, the rattle of drums and a couple of jangled chords, bubbling bass, “Jackie?” says the bartender, his hair gone black. “Ah, naw. She ain’t here.”
“Oh,” says Jessie, in her puffy pink parka. “Sorry. I thought,” and she shakes her head, Americans were thus denied, someone’s singing, with the guitar and the drums, all right to travel to the other side. “She usually works mornings,” says Jessie. “Any idea when she’s in next?”
“No, see,” says the bartender, “I mean, she’s not here? Anymore?” Folding those skinny arms, leaning his elbows on the bar. “And we can’t be giving out people’s schedules, come on. Basic security.”
“I’m a friend,” says Jessie, and then, “I used to dance here? About a year, year and a half ago. Went by Rain?”
“If you’re a friend,” says the bartender, “I mean, she left, what, right after the holidays? Two, three months ago? So, I mean,” and he spreads his hands. “Want something to drink?”
“Where’d she go?” says Jessie.
“I don’t know, Eugene or something? But even if I did I couldn’t tell you, because, security, you know. Coffee? Anything?”
Betcha my life, there’d be no violence there, and she opens her mouth to speak but everything lights up again, washed out, as the door swings open, two women, raincoat, trench coat, gym bag and backpack, nodding to the bartender who waves hello as they head through empty tables past the empty little stage, toward the nondescript door back there. “How about Chilli,” says Jessie. “He back there?”
“He, naw, Chilli, we’re,” the bartender jumps as she walks away, “we’re under new management,” he calls after her, “so,” but there’s confusion by that nondescript door as it opens, those women stepping through around and past a man who’s stepping out, brown leather vest and rich red hair flopping from a widow’s peak, “I need you to,” the bartender’s saying. Jessie waves him off. “It’s Gaveston,” she says. “I know Gav.”
But Gaveston’s holding the door for someone else, a tall woman in a white track suit, short hair greenly yellow, and Jessie stops short, in the midst of the empty tables. “Chariot?” she says. The tall woman’s saying something to Gaveston, as she heads off past the little stage. “Iona?” says Jessie, and the tall woman looks over to see her there in pink. “Oh,” she says, stopped short. “Rain.”
“Is she here?” says Jessie. “The,” a cough, “the Princess? Uh, Queen? Ysabel?”
Iona’s shaking her head, “I’m merely here on her behalf,” she says, stepping away, but “Iona,” says Jessie, “Chariot, tell her, please,” and Iona stops, looks back. “Yes?” she says.
Jessie looks away. “Nothing,” she says. “Don’t tell her anything. Not even, that you saw me.”
“As you wish,” says Iona. Jessie’s still looking away, there among the empty tables. I’d want the giddy-up, the guitar jangles, I’d want to live it up, I’d want the pick-me-up, and the nondescript door back there’s now shut. The bartender isn’t behind the bar that flares, scoured once more by daylight as Iona opens the door outside. She steps through, the door swings shut, the darkness returns.

Nox Sea Raid say the letters punched in light across the screen. Choose Your Squad swooshes in below. A husky contralto says Set em up Sarge over the speakers, and the guy on the beanbag thumbs and clicks the controller in his lap, wheeling the view on the screen about a motley crew of centaurs, each stepping up to present arms as the focus settles fleetingly on them, uttering a catch-phrase, Rock an roll, rack em and pack em, they will fear my song, buzzbombs why’s it have to be buzzbombs, reportin for beauty! rock an rack em rock an pack em why’s it have to fear my rock an roll an reportin! “This is gonna suck,” says the guy on the beanbag, “I need more’n one tank for this.” Wrinkles about his eyes and gingery stubble along his jaw. “Whaddaya think,” he says, looking away from the screen, “would a Mixolydian,” but there’s nobody beside him, there’s a man headed away, over toward the grand dark staircase, dodging around a dark wood column, his sweater bulky, red, he’s looking up to the woman stopped there on the stairs, black trousers, a bowtie unclipped about her winged collar. “Long as he needs,” she’s saying, and “Oh,” says the guy on the beanbag, turning back to the screen, “Ellen’s home.” Clicking through the figures on the screen, rock an roll, reportin for beauty, they will fear, “The hell was he doing, wearing my shirt?” and the guy on the beanbag looks up again at that, the man in the red sweater a step or two up the stairs, and Ellen above him, maybe a shrug, “It looks better on him,” she’s saying, turning away. Why’s it have to be, says the centaur on the screen. Rack em!
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2023.06.07 12:14 Frank_Leroux Molossus, Chapter Eighteen

Chapter One
Chapter Seventeen
Martinez slouched his way into the kitchen. He wasn’t really paying attention to his surroundings; in his defense it was early in the morning and he’d failed at getting some appropriate shut-eye before he went and, you know, bared his entire soul to Chao. At least that was his plan. But as usual, the universe laughs at plans.
He placed a sealed plastic package into the coffee machine, then put a styrofoam cup in the appropriate location. He yawned as the machine began its burbling.
“Hey.”
Martinez snapped his head over at McCoy, who’d suddenly appeared out of nowhere. She leaned against the counter, with a big and very evil grin on her face.
“Um…” began Martinez, before he was interrupted by a voice from his other side.
“Hey.” Matt leaned there, and if McCoy looked evil then Matt looked positively diabolical. Martinez glanced behind him and saw more soldiers, all with looks of ill intent on their faces.
The corporal didn’t waste time in asking what the hell they were up to, he just started throwing hands and feet. Future scholars would count the resulting battle as one for the ages; Martinez even managed to tag Toke with a couple of pretty good punches and one really sweet roundhouse kick.
But in the end, it was still a case of one against many.
__________
“Mmmm mm mmm m mmm!” protested Martinez.
Chao sighed as she beheld his bruised and very taped-up state. “What did those idiots do to you?”
“Mm MMM mmm mm!” The corporal’s mouth was now duct-taped shut, so verbal acuity was not amongst his strong suits at the present.
She put her hands on her hips. “For crying out loud. Matt goes and gets me all worried that you’re somehow in trouble, he leads me over to some random closet and shoves me in here and I find you like this. What’s the game?”
“Gmmmm?”
Chao squatted, examining his bonds. “Well, they sure got you trussed up like a roast for the feast. Hey, if you want me to pull the tape off of your mouth just nod.”
After a moment, Martinez nodded. She reached for the tape covering his mouth, then hesitated. “Um. I don’t have much experience with this so I’ll leave it up to you. Is it better to go fast or slow? Blink once for fast, two for slow.”
With deliberation, Martinez blinked once. Chao nodded and yanked the tape off. They’d even left a convenient tab for her to grab ahold of.
“FUCKING OW!” yelled the corporal. “Um, sorry.”
Chao seated herself before his figure, which was tied up in a fetal position. “You know, the last few weeks have given me a bit of a crash-course on the types of grab-ass shenanigans you soldier types get up to. This is a new one, though. Care to educate me?”
Martinez stared at her in horrified disbelief. “Toke didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what? He just said you were in trouble and that I needed to help out.”
“That…that evil, evil son of a bitch. He said he’d explain everything!”
“Explain what? Luca, I am just about ready to walk out and leave you in here to eventually soil yourself.”
Now that he was literally hog-tied and unable to escape, Martinez realized he had to ‘fess up. “I like you,” he said in an almost-gasp. “I mean, I like you like you. In that way. I mean, I know it’s sudden. We’ve only known each other for maybe four weeks but you’re so smart and pretty and…and, you know about Asimov and Heinlein and Clarke and about orbital mechanics and star spectra.”
She sat in stunned silence while he continued. “I don’t bring much to the table, I get that. But I want to learn. After we come back from the Rithro’s repair mission, I want to go to college…I’ve started looking into that. I’m not much of a catch right now, but maybe one day you’d consider liking me that way as well…”
He was interrupted as she leaned down, grabbed his head, and planted a firm kiss upon his lips. After a moment of pure bliss for both of them, she pulled away. “You utter and complete idiot,” she said, but she said it with a smile. “Did you never think that perhaps you have some attractive qualities of your own?”
Martinez tried to shrug as best he could, being all tied up. “I mean, Toke did mention that I have some pretty nice abs?”
Chao’s eyes glinted in good humor. “Pretty nice? You’ve got an eight-pack. I could shred cheese on those bad boys.”
He looked up at her. “Wait. When did you see my abs?”
“Back when we were sequestered within Cheyenne Mountain, and we were strictly on sponge baths.” She patted his taut stomach, feeling up those aforementioned abs. “Anyways, do you want me to get you out of these bonds?”
“Um…”
Her good humor turned into a diabolical grin. “Or, would you like to remain in these bonds? Toke said something about a safe-word and safe-gesture, he said you’d explain it.”
“Of course he did. That fucker. Um. Chao, this has gone better than I could ever have imagined but I don’t think you need to know…”
“Know about what?” Her caressing of his unprotected stomach did not cease. “Does my corporal have a bit of a fetish?”
His brain seized up again at her emphasis on ‘my’. “I…”
“Let me put it this way. Would you like me to be all mean and nasty, or more cuddly and dommy mommy?”
After a long, long moment of silence he finally murmured, “Dommy mommy.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard. Well, admitting it wasn’t hard.” Her hand continued its explorations. “Now this here is indeed quite hard. Hmm. Good thing you are just too cute for words.”
“Cute?” He looked in disbelief at her, and then flinched at her continued caressing.
“One can be a badass and also cute, my dear corporal. You tick both boxes. Not to mention you’re into a fetish which I’ve wanted to indulge in for a while. Never found anyone who was into it, until now.”
Outside the closet, McCoy stood guard. She smiled in triumph as she heard Martinez yell out in pleasure, and turned to give Toke a thumbs-up.
“It’s about fuckin’ time,” she said.
Matt smiled back at her. He now sported an epic shiner under one eye. “Eh, some kids just need a bit of a nudge, you know?”
__________
It was…it was a wall. A wall he was looking at.
A wall covered in white stucco. Nothing too fancy, but it was indeed a wall and Joachim realized he was looking at it. That might seem like a substandard feat, but for a man who’d been in Joachim’s proverbial shoes it was a grand accomplishment.
His mouth worked as he swished his tongue around in his mouth. He looked around. He sat in a lawn chair in the middle of a beige room, lined on every wall with the stucco he’d just realized he was looking at. “H…hello?”
His voice felt old and clotted. Joachim looked down at his hand, and he saw wrinkled skin and age spots that he didn’t remember seeing there before.
This room only had one exit door, and now it opened. A lean man with dark skin entered. “Joachim Neimyer? I’m Zawahir Ibn Harith. How are you feeling, sir?”
Joachim fixed the newcomer with a steady eye. “I’ll be feeling better once I know where I am. And where is Corina?”
“Corina is on her way, she should be here within minutes. We had great hopes that your treatment was progressing well. Do you know what day it is, sir?”
“Of course I know what day it is! It’s…” Joachim trailed off as he realized that he didn’t know. The last few…years? Decades? He had glimpses of moments in time, as if viewed via a strobe-light. He now realized it was much, much later in time than he thought. “I…what happened?”
“Alzheimer’s, Mr. Neimeyer.” Zawahir’s eyes were kind. “You’ve been suffering from it for the last seven years. But we discovered…or, I should say, we adopted a methodology for treating it. It not only stops the damage, it has a way of reversing at least some of its effects. I fear you will never regain the memories from the time during which you suffered the most, but from now on your mind should function properly once more.”
Joachim rubbed his now-bald pate. “Is Corina all right?”
Zawahir pulled over a chair next to him and seated himself. “She is, blessedly, un-marked by the same affliction. We are, of course, putting her on a similar treatment as yourself just to make sure she remains so. With her consent, of course.”
The old man fixed Zawahir with a direct stare. “This whole thing smells experimental. Why choose me?”
“Mmm, you are as sharp as ever, sir. This is indeed an experiment, and we chose you because you are one of the preeminent rocket experts who ever lived. We need such skills now.”
“What?”
Zawahir leaned forward. “I will do my best to catch you up…”
__________
She walked through the door, supported by a cane. The one person, the beacon in Joachim’s life. Corina lit up upon seeing his gaze. A gaze with intent, with purpose. “They said you were feeling better!”
Before he or the surrounding interns could react, Joachim now found himself with a hundred-ish pounds of enthusiastic elderly woman in his lap.
“Tell me something only you know,” she whispered.
Joachim smiled. “Do you remember what I told you when we saw the green flash? That one time, in Hawaii? During our honeymoon?”
“I do. You said that the flash was the souls of those who’ve gone before.”
“And I promised you that, if I passed before you, that you would just need to look for the flash to see me.”
She clasped his wrinkled face in her own equally-lined hands. “You did better than that. You came back to me.”
“I guess I did.” He kissed her, reveling in the fact that this time he’d remember it.
Zawahir motioned to everyone else in the room. They all quickly got the hint and left the pair to their mutual happiness.
__________
The door of the simulator cracked open and Kifa came scuttling out. She peered up at the normally stony face of Master Sergeant Wilkes; right now the latter looked like he’d just been kicked in the chest by a donkey and was still trying to process it. “How did I do?” asked the xyrax. “It seems like I did quite well.”
“Um…Kifa. Well. Um. Did the controls seem to operate right?”
“Oh, yes! Very much, quite intuitive! It’s been ages since I simulated combat within an atmosphere! That was fun!”
“Fun. You do realize that you were going up against aces. I mean real, human aces?”
“Oh. I thought that was the case.” Kifa peered back into the simulator. “Was I not supposed to know that?”
Wilkes finally laughed, something that was fortunately captured by several cameras and used as blackmail material for many years after. “You did fine. You also just utterly smoked several of the finest pilots on Earth, and that includes non-Americans.” He regarded her with a steady gaze. “I wish I could recruit you to TOPGUN, I’d love to see you show those strutting peacocks a thing or two.”
“What is TOPGUN?”
He sighed. “Right now, it’s in the same exact department as buggy-whip manufacturing. You just showed these punks that, even in atmosphere, you’re death from above.”
Kifa seemed to shrink into themselves. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Now, now, Kifa, this is a good thing. Gotta keep those aforementioned strutting peacocks on their toes. But soon we’ll be dealing with fighting using orbital mechanics, something with which our air-combat people have about as much actual experience as they do with chatting up the fairer sex.”
“Which fairer sex? I mean, my kind is hermaphroditic so I know the mechanics but…” Kifa trailed off as it blinked its four big, oil-drop eyes.
“You are too damned cute for your own good. Pick a sex, any one, I for one do not give a fuck anymore. Point being, we humans need a crash-course in how to fight in space. No atmo, so trying to maneuver using flaps and wings and things is right out. We need to understand how orbits work. Not just intellectually, but in our bones.” Wilkes patted the simulator. “We need you to teach us. We need you to teach an army. Well, navy. Technically. I guess it would count as a navy. Either way. You know how to do this shit, and you just proved that even in atmosphere you can run rings around our best and brightest. So. Are you willing to show us your voodoo?”
“My voodoo…” The blue-furred spider suddenly rose on all of its legs. “Of course! This will be used against the Breakers, yes?”
“Of course.”
“Then it will be my greatest pleasure to show you all of my voodoo!” Kifa paused. “Although, if I received a headpat or two it would also help me properly consider how best to teach you.”
Sergeant Wilkes sighed and reached down. Kifa purred in delight as the usually-taciturn sergeant unleashed the full might and power of Human Headpats upon the alien pilot.
__________
Sadaf watched as the two dark-haired women and one blonde-haired woman had a black-and-white cap fitted over their heads. Both had received a haircut for this day; Parvati for one seemed to be less than thrilled about losing some of her tresses.
“This is the snoopy-cap,” said the aide who stood between the two women. The surroundings were sterile and very, very white. “This cap contains your communications, and it will keep your hair in place during launch.” This was the actual process getting shown to the world. Behind them, Ravindar and Martinez were also in the process of getting suited up, but this was done with much less fanfare. The aide’s words carried to them all, of course.
“Arms up!” Everyone going into space today raised their arms, and a large tubby-looking upper suit then slid down over five figures. Many human hands made sure that their heads made it through the upper ring. “This is the upper part of your pressure suit,” said the aide. “The gloves and helmet will complete that part, but that will come later. Now I will need you all to step into your pants…”
Everyone did so; Chao was the one who didn’t quite make it look elegant. She grinned at Martinez as she fumbled for a bit getting her pressure-suit trousers on; his resulting blush was caught for the cameras but it wasn’t until a week later that someone realized what it meant.
“Latch!” The aide’s voice was hard as metal.
Many hands reached out, twisting multiple metal rings to lock the upper and lower halves of the four pressure suits into one cohesive piece.
“I still say we could make them some proper hardsuits,” said Sadaf to Takh. The two stood off to the side, not exactly part of the dance but not apart from it either.
“No, I think this is better,” said Takh. “We need to make this look more like a…human effort.” Her XO stood at parade-rest, with both sets of arms clasped behind his back.
Sadaf nodded. “I will default to your judgement. By the way…how are you and Corporal McCoy getting along?” She nodded towards the last-minute addition to the crew.
“Um…Ma’am, I…” His faltering was not helped by watching the humans in the clean-room getting clear helmets fixed over their heads. Each latching was followed-up by a tap on the shoulder and a thumbs-up.
The big human, Ravindar, waved his arms over his shoulders as he got the feel for the suit. He’d managed to get the helmet on without an issue, in spite of his substantial beard. “Need more air?” asked a much smaller woman at his side. He shook his head, while he continued to flex and get comfortable with how the suit restricted his motions.
Getting the Sikh to this moment had been a master-class in diplomacy. Not least of which was because he still carried a weapon upon his person. Sadaf had no experience with ‘Sikhism’, but she could appreciate any culture or creed which dictated the need to carry a protective weapon at all times. It appealed to her nature.
“Do you think Parvati knows that he’s, well, into her?” asked Takh.
His captain’s voice became damn near sultry. “Now Takh, and here I thought you were all clueless. I’ve heard of the effort these humans went through to get Chao and Luca together. Would you like me to ask them to perform a similar effort for you and Corporal McCoy? Hmmm? It would make for quite the photo-op, as the humans would say.”
Takh felt a bit of panic, somehow. “No!” His panicked reply was low, hopefully not picked up by the surrounding cameras. “I mean, she’s so small. I could hurt her…assuming she wants to be romantic, of course.”
“Romantic? Takh, I admit I am still learning about human body language but trust me…if you want that, she wants that.” She pondered the humans in the room still going through some last-minute checks of their pressure suits. “Let’s put it this way. If you don’t make a move, then I just might ask Dhuz if it’s okay to add a human to our harem when we get back.”
“What?”
“I have learned quite the delightful human phrase. It is, as they say, Time To Nut Up Or Shut Up. I do find McCoy really cute, after all. As do you.”
Her XO grumbled semi-silently for a bit. “Fair enough, Captain. I’ll ask her. While we’re out there.”
“Good.” The humans in the clean room were now about finished with their checks, and Sadaf felt a bit of a thrill. She was, after all, witness to a species taking their first steps into a larger universe.
Five hoses were now shoved into five chest-mounted receptacles, each hose leading to its own hand-held air-conditioning unit. Another complicated round of checks, slaps, and thumbs-ups then followed.
“They do know that we’re just going to walk beside them right into the landing boat, right?” asked Takh. “This whole process isn’t really necessary.”
“Let them have this moment,” said Sadaf with a gentle smile. “They’re having fun.”
__________
The five white-suited individuals emerged from the hallway to pretty much universal uproar, both in person and online. The suit color was all NASA, but the logos were not. All four wore the emblem of the United Nations at their shoulder, a pair of olive branches surrounding a polar view of the world. The four humans all did their bit and waved for the cameras. Those in charge of the cameras did as instructed, and ignored the two black-and-sliver figures behind the quartet. The latter weren’t wearing any sort of pressure suit.
In the middle of the courtyard hovered the real talking piece, a landing boat from the Rithro. Its entry door was already lowered, and with another wave to the cameras from each of the five humans, they walked up the ramp and into the craft.
The five of them then looked at each other as the door began to close behind them. They’d trained together for a bit, enough to get a feel for each other. But now there was a real sense among them of holy shit what now?
Their mutual what-nows were interrupted as Tofa appeared. The arachnoid alien held a tray in one pedipalp, and upon that tray sat a little dish of what looked like Brazil nuts.
“Greetings!” chirped Tofa. “Welcome to Rithro Air, I assure you we have an excellent safety reputation. Well, almost excellent, if you don’t count the affair around Barnard’s Star. You may now take off your pressure suits. May I interest you in a nut?”
The four humans (and a few of the aliens) flinched as Ravindar let loose with a hearty belly-laugh. He reached up to undo his helmet while he beamed a brilliant white smile at their greeter. “You? I like you. We’re going to be fast friends.” He reached down to pluck a nut from the tray. “Madame? Do you want to take the first nut? Or should I taste it first?”
“Um…” For once, Parvati looked uncertain within her glass-and-cloth cocoon. “If you wish to taste, then please go ahead.”
“As you wish.” Ravindar held her eyes as he bit into the proffered nut. “It seems to be all right,” he pronounced.
After the great ceremony with which they’d been ensconced into their pressure suits, the humans then with reluctance emerged from their cocoons.
“We set up some chairs for everyone!” exclaimed Tofa, who gestured to the sides of the landing craft.
“Um, where do we put all of this?” asked Martinez as he held up a pressure-suit gauntlet.
The alien spider blinked. “Oh, right! Kexal, would you mind helping our guests stow their material?”
__________
The conference room at ULA now looked out over an even-greater bustle of activity. They were determined to at least match SpaceX in terms of tonnage-to-orbit; maybe they’d do so more efficiently? The mere notion had set a fire under everyone.
Joachim sat in a wheelchair while he studied those in front of him. “Ladies and gentlemen. I have, through some strange technological miracle, been re-granted the use of my mind. Not only that; they tell me that I and my wife might, if certain tests go well…we could become that which we once were. I intend to make sure that this gift does not go to waste. Not for me, nor for my wife, nor for the rest of humanity. Anyways. We have some aliens who need our help, we have some psychotic robot idiots who are fucking things up for everyone, and we need to get some serious tonnage into orbit as a result. Is that about the shape of things?”
“That’s pretty much the shape of it, sir,” said Dwight.
Joachim pointed a wrinkled finger at the speaker. “You. I’ve been caught up enough that I know you were the one to advocate for the use of Sea Dragon.”
“Just as a Hail Mary,” Dwight protested.
Clara cleared her throat. “I mean, I understand the enthusiasm but nobody has ever fired a pressure-fed engine that big. A single engine, mind you.”
Joachim rubbed his chin. “I understand your concern. But also keep in mind, this is a pintle injector, not a shower-head like they had on the F-1s on the Saturn-Five’s first stage. Pintle injectors were classified at the time. That’s a pity, because pintle injectors are safe as houses.”
Clara looked over at him. “Really?”
“Oh yeah, they’re pretty much bomb-proof.”
The team regarded the design now up on the screen. Clara was the first to speak their mutual thought. “Could…could we make this work?”
Joachim’s exclamation brought them all up short. “Of COURSE we can!” He thumped his cane into the floor for added emphasis. “Gentlemen…and ladies, please forgive me Clara…not one month ago I was a drooling wreck of a human. Today I come before you with my mind re-borne and in full function. I intend to make full use of that function. As does my wife, God bless her. We are going to set an example.”
Joachim stood, levering himself upright via his cane. “Here I stand,” he said. “Like Martin Luther before me, I can do no other.”
After a moment, everybody else in the conference room stood as well.
“Welp, we’re all standing,” said Dwight. “Okay, so what do we do now?”
Joachim pointed his cane at the screen. “Now, my dear Dwight, we Build. That. Fucking. Thing. We’re gonna show these Coalition assholes how we humans put some serious fucking tonnage into orbit.”
“Fuck yeah,” said Clara, as an unholy light came into her eyes.
“Fuck yes indeed,” replied Joachim. “The question now is, what do we put into it?”
The other people in the room looked at each other, just before bursting out into exclamations as to what they wanted put into that first launch. It was the sound of people on an expense account to beat the band.
submitted by Frank_Leroux to HFY [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 08:02 I_Jungle_Teemo Excuse me while I rant to this wall over here for a while

Ok look, I just want to open by saying that this is gonna be long and kind of a vauge rant; but i wanted to post it somewhere just so that someone might understand where i'm coming from.
Im pretty sure i fall into a smallish minority of players of the Phantasy Star series. My first foray was Phantasy Star Universe; and while it seems to be a bit of a blacksheep of the series, as someone just discovering my first mmo outside of Runescape (and on a console no less) it was pure MAGIC. There was SO much to do, so many cool and unique items to collect, a fun and engaging community who was friendly and willing to help. You had branching paths, themed bosses; everything just felt so ALIVE to me as a kid. All these people here in this awesome virtual world all having fun, making real memories with real people through the joy of fun community features, and a shared love of finding the next exciting drop.
Jump forward in time a couple years after the PSU shutdown; I catch wind that PSO2 is playable in japan, and its possible to play from the US. Immediately, nostalgia floods me, and i start trying to rig the wonky launcher and super primitive english patch on some crappy 200 dollar walmart laptop i had (SO many hours spent doing captchas in hiragana as a dumb american... holy hell). I get into the server, and its like magic all over again; im a little confused about how the field lobbies are gone and how the layout works as a whole; but im having a good time. I settle in on ship 2, i do a handful of missions and happen to run across some english speaking players and boom; i'm in an alliance, here comes the sense of community again! Now, at this point i'm a little older and wiser; i've played a good few f2p mmos at this point, and so it isn't long before i notice the cash shop and start trying to figure out what i'm missing. So I start asking about in the voice chat of this alliance i'm in; and most people tell me that if i'm having fun that a premium set is the biggest thing worth having. However i would need to find a way to convert my money (which at the time was quite complicated, though it later got easier i'm told). So i kind of hit a stone wall and decide "Well im having fun, all these new skill trees are really cool and im enjoying the game and its combat especially vs PSU..... so how hard can it be to grind it out as a f2p?

Well it wasn't the worst. I lasted a good 6 months and maxxed out 1 class, i survive through SG storage space, and learn that through shop tickets and room tickets i can get pretty much anything i want through smart grinding. At some point through the leveling process, the loop started to feel more rewarding the more you really learned combat; but the overall rewards just felt so slow and unsatisfying. I'm sure it didnt help that MANY items were untranslated; but so much of the loot felt so samey. There were no super cool special drops or anything outside of augments really that people wanted that werent AC scratch items; so i got to farming. Alot of my alliance members were very skilled and knowledgeable, and frankly carried me super hard in both knowledge and power (shout out to Cedric, Gorani, and Maileese). I started to learn and understand alot about the game outside of the fun community aspects that drew me in. I started bringing in ok money and got my character set up with a cool outfit; made my room nice and decorated so i could invite my alliance over to hang out. Overall, i managed to thrive as a f2p despite constant mid run banking, storage problems, slower xp, and shitty buff drinks. I stayed and learned to thrive, because it gave me the option to thrive as a f2p through learning the finer bits of the market (and being able to access it reasonably easy).
Jump forward like 5-6 more years; my crappy laptop is dead; I had long taken a break from pso2 JP when they started ip banning english players; and im playing on xbox as my main source of gaming entertainment. I had almost forgotten they ever promised to bring pso2 west nearly 10 years ago; but when i saw PSO2 at E3 of all things; needless to say I LOST MY MIND! i was beyond excited for it to finally touch back down; and whats more its even coming to the platform i have access too! so many years of content and things i missed! I was mentally preparing to lose myself in PSO2 for ages; but this time i was fully invested in "Min/maxxing" mentality. I know that lots of people are going to be playing for the first time, and that having already played a bunch myself; i have the advantage to some degree in knowledge; and can use it both to help myself and others. I like to think that overall i did pretty good; i ran an alliance with a good handful of friends who i convinced to play; and we all had a great time... for about 2ish weeks until we realized gearing peaked at revolsio weapons. I knew the content drip would be slow but steady; but there was such a renewed sense of community, that even though they began to trickle out; i couldnt help but stay.
I started getting into augementing and experimenting with builds; i start affixing units and weapons for profit, i engage in the community colored chair wars, i people watch on block 69; life is GREAT and im having a great time. Ofc i bought in for a founders pack and had premium and some cosmetics and stuff; i was actually an adult with money this time, and i mean hey; what's 30 bucks to support a game i love and get basically everything i need for one character? I occasionally grumble over the inability to trade people without premium, or that those without it level extra slow; but i know that if they just make it over a certain barrier that they can thrive no problem. I use photon capsule machines to trade friends gear; we do even more advance quests even more of the time to make sure people get the levels they need; and eventually they have a stockpile of tickets, and have a max level character; and start making money. At some point alot of them start having enough fun that they too buy into the game, some for a premium set; some full send whales. Now, the whales started being a double edged blade; because there were enough people making well affixed gear at steady enough of pace; but jussst slow enough at first that demand was still very much outweighing supply. So the market begins to skyrocket on perfect affixed units. Now me personally; i made alot of money on this. but for MANY of the other players who are just trying to get better gear and those who are chasing the "end game" so to speak; this became super punishing.
I could go on and on and on about how much stuff got super crazy on the market because of whaling. but as long as you were on the right side of it from a standpoint of affixes and material farming; you could make a fortune off of it; although at some point they even started making that not as good with premium capsules and whatnot. Soon capsules are best in slot across the board, shop tickets begin trickling out; The balloon breasts jump to like 2 billion meseta lol. so much stuff starts happening around me that im like "man this game isnt like... pay to win but SUPER pay to conveinence". but the reality was starting to get a little bit bleaker by the end of pso2 era for F2P players.
To come full circle here with what drove me to rant and rave about this al;l is how the model has progressed in NGS. We lived in an age where there was no player shop access for f2p (unless you were sitting on a dragons hoard of unsed 3 days from base game), there were no rooms, even premium benefits were basically nil outside of a shop. AC scratches were getting pumped at at an all time high, no concerts, no real entertainment of any kind; just fuggin resol forest all day. and finally we have come to an age of content where sega finally makes skill trees not cost money to change; but just sells you the ability to skip playing the game. and not only that but effectively spawn in the best items in the game for AC. It just feels so unfortunate that the content has dried up; nothing feels anywhere near as creative or fun. the combat is inch deep; as are the skill trees. theres no crazy combos; no 20 piece combo craziness. just the same 4-5 moves; on repeat; with mostly some % buffs thrown in.
I havent even begun to mention the mile long list of other stuff missing that even base game had. Bas egame had some genunely fun and challeneging content. there were fun missions to run and it made sense to do them. NGS is just devoid of any of the charm of fun that made any of its previous iterations great; and all while gouging you for more and more.
I know this trails all over the place and has a rushed conclusion, but i was just reading the patch notes considering dipping my toes back into the water again after skipping stia; and im just honestly so turned off by it. nothing has changed; no major interesting content has dropped; and now they are going full on pay to win. I'll be honest; i think ill just stick to clementine server or something; because at least there, the devs actually give a shit about the game. I feel like im in an abusive relationship im just waking up to after 10 years os PSO or something. and with that i dont have much else to say tbh. i love this franchise, and i want to love this game; but SEGA really just cannot do right with this game.
submitted by I_Jungle_Teemo to PSO2NGS [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 07:43 nsideus Trip Report - 19 days in Japan with an infant and a toddler

We are a family of 4 with two young kids, a toddler who’s nearing 3 years old and an infant who is 9 months old. We visited Japan in May of 2023 for 18 nights. We stayed in Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka, and took day trips to Nara and Kobe.
Some people might call us crazy for taking an international trip with two small children. But my wife and I, who were avid travelers before we had kids, hadn’t been out of the country since 2019 due to 1) having kids and 2) Covid. We were itching for a trip, so we took the chance. Were there some crazy times? Of course. Was it worth it? Definitely.
I did a lot of research and prep before the trip, but there are always surprises that come up when you have kids. I’ll try to share some of the lessons I learned on the trip.
—Flights—
This was our first time on an airplane with the kids. I was a bit worried beforehand and in retrospect the flights were the worst parts of the trip. The main advice I’d give is do as much as you can to make your flight more tolerable, which no doubt means spending more money on tickets and gear. But it’s worth it.
I considered a few different airlines for this trip: ZipAir, Singapore, ANA, and Japan Airlines. JAL was too expensive. ZipAir was interesting because they provide car seats, you don’t have to take your own. We didn’t rent a car in Japan so we didn’t need our own car seats. I was just worried about racking up extra fees on ZipAir. Singapore and ANA were similar, they both provide bassinets and the price was similar. I ended up going with ANA for two reasons: 1) I had flown ANA on a previous trip and been happy with them and 2) they fly to Haneda instead of Narita, which saves you time getting from the airport to your hotel.
We opted for 3 seats and a bassinet. My infant is big for her age so she barely fit in the bassinet (she’s 21 pounds). But we were glad to have it. I had to call in to ANA customer service which had an hour+ wait time to get the bassinet, but other than that it was no trouble.
Which leads me into probably the most important part of flying with kids on a lengthy flight: get your kids to sleep on the plane. The more they sleep the less likely you are to run into a tantrum or meltdown.
To encourage sleeping we did a few things: 1) Take an overnight flight 2) Get a bassinet for our infant 3) Get a JetKids bed box for our toddler. Our ANA flight from LAX left at 5pm, which allowed time for the dinner service to show up before we put our kids to bed. They set the bassinet up right after you get to cruising altitude, so it’s there the majority of the flight. Our infant rejected it at first but eventually fell asleep.
As far as our toddler sleeping, the JetKids worked well. There was a bit of trouble with it staying in place since we had bulkhead seats, but overall I was happy with it as a bed. I absolutely hate the JetKids a piece of luggage though, it’s not easy to lug around and holds nearly nothing. But it helped our toddler stay asleep most of the flight. You don’t necessarily need a JetKids though, other airline seat bed solutions may work just as well. Just bring something that will help your toddler sleep. If we had to do it again, I think I’d prefer having car seats over both the bassinet and JetKids. That’s probably what we’ll do on the next trip.
There were a few unexpected problems we ran into on the flights. On the first flight, our infant got motion sickness and spit up multiple times. She ruined one of my shirts and my wife’s pants. Not to mention my wife got motion sickness as well so I had to do most of the heavy lifting with the kids alone. It was a sleepless and messy flight.
On our flight home, there was a mechanical issue with the plane. They said we were losing oil. So on a Tokyo to Los Angeles flight we somehow ended up landing In Anchorage, Alaska. It goes without saying this was horrible and the flight home from Anchorage on Alaska Airlines was horrible too. But that’s not really relevant to flying to/from Japan so I’ll leave the details out. We won’t be flying with ANA ever again.
To reiterate, do what you can to make your flight easier. Get the non-stop flight. Get the extra seat. This isn’t the area to be frugal.
—Stroller—
So you survived the flight. How do you get your kids around once you’ve landed? We have two kids so we need a twin stroller right? Wrong. Taking a twin stroller to Japan is a huge mistake, don’t do it.
Most guides will tell you to use a carrier, and if you only have one small infant then that’s likely the way to go. But with two kids we used a travel stroller and carrier combo. At first I expected to only use the carrier and carry the stroller around until we needed it, but I quickly realized that carrying the stroller around all day is a huge pain. We have the Cybex Libelle which is small at 13lbs, but 13lbs is still heavy enough that you don’t want to carry it all day.
So our stroller remained deployed basically all the time. My infant sat in the stroller most of the day, until it was my toddler’s nap time. Then the infant went in the carrier and toddler in the stroller to sleep. It worked well for us.
How did we keep the stroller deployed the whole time? Elevators. Lots of elevators. And occasionally carrying it up and down stairs. The availability of elevators depends on where you are. Of the cities we visited, I’d say Tokyo is the best and Kyoto is the worst for elevator availability.
The wide majority of metro and train stations are going to have elevators. It can be hard to find the right entrance to use to find an elevator, but there is always signage and almost always a map. You may need to walk an extra 5 minutes, or wait in line, or get lost, so always give yourself extra time when catching a train if you are using your stroller. We spent a LOT of time looking for elevators on this trip.
We only found two stations our whole trip that had no elevator at all, one was the JR Kobe station and the other was a JR station in Tokyo (I forget which one). When this happened, I picked up the stroller and carried it with our infant in it on the stairs. If our toddler was in it I made her get up and walk, then carried the stroller.
The other problem at metro / train stations with a stroller is the gap between the train and the platform. There’s always either a gap or the train and platform are at different elevations. You don’t have a lot of time to get on / off the train so this was a constant source of anxiety. Once our stroller wheel got stuck in between the train and the platform. It took some effort to pop it out. Another time my toddler stepped in the gap, but luckily I was holding her hand and stopped her from falling in. Always be mindful of the gap when you have kids. It’s probably one of the least safe situations you’ll constantly run into in Japan.
Malls and shopping centers almost always have elevators. You may need to wait a while to get one though. In the malls with 10+ floors, you might need to wait 5 minutes for an elevator. Sometimes they have “priority” elevators for the handicapped and strollers but often times perfectly abled people rudely take up all the space in those elevators.
We thought we would have trouble taking our stroller into restaurants but it was actually much less trouble than expected. There was only one restaurant that flat out turned us away, Sushi Tokyo Ten in Roppongi. Other establishments will usually move a chair so you can put your stroller at the table or counter where the chair was.
So overall the stroller was annoying to use but I don’t think we could have done the trip without it. It was a necessary evil with two young kids.
—Shinkansen—
We used the Shinkansen to get between cities. We had two trips, Tokyo to Kyoto and Osaka to Tokyo. We did not bother with the JR Pass, it wasn’t worth it. Mostly because our trips were 8 days apart so we would’ve needed the 14 days pass which wasn’t worth it for two Shinkansen trips.
One thing that caught us off-guard about the Shinkansen is how quickly it leaves a station when it makes a stop. We were expecting to have some time to get on when the train arrived, but it’s basically the same as a Metro stop. You have to get on right away. We made the mistake of buying a reserved seat for a train leaving in less than 15 minutes, without knowing where the elevator was. So we scrambled to get to where we needed to go on the platform and were the last ones on the train. We jumped on the train at the last second, we wanted to get to our specific car from the platform but we weren’t going to make it. It’s a miracle we didn’t lose a piece of luggage or a kid on the way. On the second trip I reserved a seat on a train that was 40 minutes out.
As far as seating we only needed to buy two seats. We would have put our toddler on our lap if needed, but we didn’t need to. Basically, one side of the train has 2 seats and the other 3. If you find a row that has the window seat open on the 3 seat side, then it is very unlikely anyone will sit in the aisle seat if you reserve the window and middle seat. We basically got a free seat for our toddler this way on both trips.
—Baby supplies—
We had more trouble than expected finding baby supplies. A lot of guides online tell you to go to drugstores, and maybe we were going to the wrong drugstores but that wasn’t working out for us. We were distraught until we by chance came across Babies R Us. Yes, the Babies R Us that went out of business in the USA. We happened to be browsing the malls in Odaiba when we came across this gem. It’s a treasure trove of western style baby food and supplies.
Our infant is in the “purée” food stage and we didn’t find any in drugstores. Most of the baby food is juice or rice porridge. Babies R Us has aisles worth of puréed food. It has diapers, wet wipes, formula, nose cleaners, and basically anything else you’d ever want for your baby. We stocked up on everything when we found this place. There are several locations but we went to the Odaiba location in Tokyo and the Harborland location in Kobe.
Another smaller store we found in the mall below Tokyo Skytree is Dadway. They don’t have as much as Babies R Us but we did pick up some purée here.
The other place we picked up diapers and a few others things is Don Quijote, which has locations all over the place. Their baby food collection is basically as limited as drugstores, but it’s fine in a pinch.
—Eating—
I’ve spoken a lot about logistics, but I had one primary reason for going to Japan: to eat tasty food. I had been to Japan once before I had kids and fell in love with the food.
Most guides will tell you families should go to family restaurants. Nope. Not happening. We did not go to a single Saizeriya or Bikkuri Donkey. And I definitely did not go through all of this trouble to eat at Denny’s. We went to a total of ZERO family restaurants.
I’m here to tell you there are plenty of good restaurants you can go to with kids. Even with a baby. Even with a baby and a toddler.
I’ll tell you my main approach to finding restaurants that will allow kids to dine with you. Your main tools are: Tablelog, Google Maps, and the individual restaurant websites. Tablelog is a great tool and their “with children” section on the restaurant info page is very accurate. If a restaurant is listed as “Babies are welcome” or “Baby Strollers accepted”, then you can very likely eat there with a baby. If a place does not have such a listing, it isn’t necessarily a no, it’s a maybe. That’s when you need to search Google Maps reviews for “kids”, “children”, “family” to see if anyone mentions the restaurant’s stance on such things. If you can’t find anything on Google Maps, go to the restaurant’s website. If they have an online reservation system, it is likely to list their stance on kids on the reservation page.
I did a lot of research beforehand and pinned all the relevant restaurants on Google Maps. That way, no matter where I was, I could find some good kid tolerant restaurants. I say “kid-tolerant” instead of “kid friendly” because I consider “kid-tolerant” to mean that they let kids in the restaurant, while “kid-friendly” means they have a kid’s menu, high chairs, etc.
We were able to eat at a wide variety of restaurants, from overpriced Michelin starred places to budget Omakase places. There are a lot of restaurants in Japan. If a restaurant doesn’t let you in because you have kids, it’s fine because there’s another similar one that will.
This is a list of good restaurants we ate at with our infant and toddler. These are just the places we made it to, there were plenty more I had on my list we didn’t make it to:
Gion Maruyama, Gion, Kyoto
Sushi Wakon, Four Seasons, Kyoto
The Oak Door, Grand Hyatt, Tokyo
Kobe Plaisir, Kobe
Roku Roku, Grand Hyatt, Tokyo
Daiwa Sushi, Toyosu Market, Tokyo
Inshotei, Ueno Park, Tokyo
Sushidan, Eat Play Works, Tokyo
Nishiya, Shinsaibashi, Osaka
Tonkatsu Wako, JR Isetan, Kyoto
Soju Dining, Tokyo Midtown, Tokyo
Imakatsu, Roppongi, Tokyo
Mizuno, Dotonbori, Osaka
Rokurinsha, Tokyo Station, Tokyo
Tsumigi, Tsukiji, Tokyo
Lots of different food stalls in Tsukiji Market, Tokyo
Other times we ate at conveyor belt sushi places, department store basements, or ramen places. The basements are a good place to get something for everyone. My toddler ate a lot of gyoza and noodles on this trip, she didn’t take a liking to much else. But Ichiran and Ippudo were right down her alley.
Tsukiji market was our go to breakfast place when we stayed in Tokyo. There’s plenty of different choices there and it opens early enough for jet-lagged families.
Overall I had a great time eating. If my toddler is eating she’s usually not having a tantrum, and we tried as best as possible to put our infant to sleep before we went to any higher end restaurants. There were some awkward tantrum moments but for the most part it was fine.
—City by City Report—
Tokyo
We had two different stays in Tokyo, the first after landing in Japan and the second right before departing Japan. We stayed a total of 10 nights in Tokyo, but we wish we had even more.
We could have come to Tokyo alone the whole trip and been perfectly content. It has the best food, the most kid friendly facilities, and there’s plenty to see and do.
Here’s a few choice things we did with the kids:
DisneySea: My toddler loved this one. We’ve been to Disneyland in SoCal but this is completely different. Even I was excited since it’s been a long while since I’ve been to an unexplored Disney park. A lot of people will say DisneySea is for older kids but there were plenty of rides my toddler could get on. It’s a great place for toddlers. A must visit with kids.
Ueno park: We spent a whole day in Ueno Park. There’s a great zoo, a fun Natural History Museum, and good restaurants. We picked up bento boxes from Inshotei and ate them at a picnic table in the zoo. I think this park is also a must do with kids.
One of the city views: you have a few choices here but we went to Tokyo Skytree and Shibuya Sky. Shibuya sky is a little less kid friendly, because they don’t allow strollers on the roof and they have some weird rules about holding your baby on the roof. I think they’re scared of a wind gust pulling your baby off the roof? I like the mall at Tokyo Skytree, and there’s a Rokurinsha there too (very good dipping ramen).
Small Worlds: This is a miniature museum on one of the man-made islands in the bay. It’s a little out of the way, but we made a day out of Toyosu Market, Small Worlds, and Odaiba. My toddler liked this one, the exhibits are interactive and fun to look at. It was better than expected.
Other than that we did a lot of eating and shopping in Tokyo for us adults.
Kyoto
Kyoto was probably our least favorite city to do with kids. In general it’s just hard to get around. There’s a lot of stroller unfriendly places. Streets without sidewalks. Rough cobblestone-like roads. Temples are not stroller friendly. Hills everywhere. Good luck getting to the top of the monkey park with a stroller. It’s definitely a trend in this city.
Maybe if you have older kids it’s fine. But if you have younger than elementary school kids it’s probably skippable. There’s not that many kid friendly activities here either. Temples aren’t interesting for kids. The best kid activity here is probably the Arashiyama Monkey Park. My toddler got a real kick out of feeding the monkeys. Just be aware there is a significant hike to get to the top of the hill where the monkeys are. My toddler is a pretty good walker, she made it all the way without crying or complaining. But I saw some other kids that didn’t fare as well.
The other thing you might try near the monkey park is the Arashiyama bamboo forest. I think it’s one of the most overrated sights in Japan though. It’s just mobbed with tourists all day. It’s not enjoyable with the crowds. I’ve been here twice and I’ve been disappointed both times.
I doubt we will be back to Kyoto any time soon.
Osaka
Osaka was nice. It was a bit refreshing to have many of the Tokyo conveniences again. Elevators everywhere, well paved and flat roads, and plenty of baby rooms.
Osaka is a good base for taking nearby day trips as well. We went to both Kobe and Nara without needing to take the Shinkansen.
The best kid experience in Osaka is the Kaiyukan aquarium. It’s big. The central tank with the whale sharks is impressive. They have lots of different animals from all over the world. It’s bigger and better than any aquarium we have in California.
The one thing I wasn’t prepared for was the lines. You need to pre-book your timed entry tickets online. We didn’t, and ended up getting tickets that were for entry two hours later. And we were there right when they opened. If I go to the aquarium at opening time on a weekday where we are from we can walk right in. Lesson learned.
We stayed in Shinsaibashi and it’s a very walkable area. There’s a covered shopping street that goes all the way down to Dotonbori. Namba is walkable from there. And America-mura is between Shinsaibashi and Dotonbori.
The Daimaru mall in Shinsaibashi is good for kids. There’s a Bornelund in there with a small indoor playground, a Pokémon Center, and good food.
I liked Osaka overall. The only thing I thought was a let down was okonomiyaki.
Nara
Nara was worth the trip. It’s about 45 minutes from Namba on the train, so not too out of the way.
There’s deer all over. Deer that bow to you. In the park, on the sidewalk, in the street. It’s a unique experience you should see at least once.
The deer are rather aggressive when you have food for them. It’s not a place where you want your kids feeding the deer. As soon as you buy the food from the street vendor, they mob you. They try to snatch the food out of your hand. Make sure you watch someone else do it first before deciding to do it yourself. If I let my toddler do it she probably would have been terrified.
The other must see in Nara is Todai-ji. It’s impressive. The giant Buddha is something. This was probably the best temple we saw on this trip, it’s visually stunning. More than anything we saw in Kyoto. I did have to carry the stroller up and down some steps, but there’s not too many.
Kobe
Kobe was great. It exceeded my expectations. The trip from Osaka is easy. We spent a full day there.
We started our one day in Kobe at the Nunobiki Herb Gardens. I wasn’t expecting too much but this place is really nice. It’s big, with lots of different gardens and exhibits to see. There’s great views as well. We took lots of pictures.
There’s a few different places to eat and drink in the gardens as well. We had some sparkling rose at “The Veranda” which had a great view of Kobe. We didn’t eat because we had a lunch reservation down the hill.
There’s a few things to watch out for. This place gets busy, so get there early. There’s no reservations, you just go early and wait in line. When we left at midday the line was massive, so get there when they open.
The herb garden only takes up the top half the hill. At first I thought it extended to the bottom of the hill, but the bottom half of the hill is actually a hiking trail without gardens. So I bought a one way gondola ticket to the top expecting to walk down all the way, but after I realized the garden ended at the middle I bought another ticket to go down (instead of getting the round trip ticket like I should have).
After the gardens we went to eat Kobe beef. Kobe Plaisir was the restaurant I chose, which was both high end and had a kids menu. The beef was great and everyone had a good time.
Afterwards we went to Harborland. It’s a nice area on the harbor that has a big boat you can go out on, and a couple of shopping malls. The Anpanman museum is here too but by the time we got there tickets were sold out for the day. This is also where you can find a Babies R Us.
Our Kobe day was one of the best days of our trip. I’d suggest a day trip here for anyone.
—Closing—
It’s hard to travel with kids this age. No doubt. Everything will take more time and be more expensive than when you used to travel alone. But I do not regret taking this trip at all. As a matter of fact I want to go back right now. My wife loved the trip, and my toddler might even remember it when she grows up. She still talks about feeding the monkeys and how dad ate a “real fish” (A Japanese sweetfish they grilled in front of us at Gion Maruyama). Japan is a great place for a first family trip.
submitted by nsideus to JapanTravel [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 06:46 CornerCornea Old Traditions for a Night Wedding

I had been contacted by the magistrate to investigate a night wedding in the countryside that had involved the loss of human life. There seemed to be a recent rise in tourists involved in ghost dowries over the years. However, from my research I believe it was a man in search of night weddings for personal gain that was the cause of so many deaths.
When I received the request, I was nearby on Green Island, and addressing a rather unique matter even in my line of work. A little girl from the mainland had arrived two weeks prior and claimed to be the recently deceased husband of the grieving widow.
The child claimed to have woken up in a hospital where the doctors informed them that they had drowned and was clinically dead for 4 minutes when the body inexplicably sat upright in the gurney. This would have seemed to be great news, except when the child looked into the mirror, it was not their face staring back at them.
In old Taoist texts I have read of such events, where the bodies of the recently deceased are not put to ground quickly enough, and their souls are left to wander. They could get carried away by the Northeast or Southwest wind. Depending on the location from where they died. And possibly attach to an empty host.
This seemed to be the case, as the wife acknowledged that due to the wet season, they did not bury her husband's body right away. Because the grounds were so wet, that any graves would wash away, leaving corpses laying in the street. Still, I had the responsibility of testing the child. Whom passed a simple test of naming names. Where they used to live. The wife's habits. A conversation they recently had, and even childhood memories. All were confirmed by friends and family. But it would be the child's handwriting that ultimately convinced me. They were a perfect match, down to the signature.
Upon my approval, the villagers had no choice but to accept that this child was indeed the man come back to life. And when I left, he was sitting outside of his house cleaning fish as he had always done for 32 years, except now in the body of a 10 year old girl.
I didn't have much time to dwell on this case as I was needed at the aftermath of the failed night wedding. Ghost dowries have been in use for thousands of years, and traces of it can be found in many different cultures. From the Aztec to the Egyptians, and more recently from old Spain to the streets of Southeast Asia. Though in recent times, only a few remote places continued the practice, and there are a limited number of priests today who are qualified enough to handle such a case. Luckily, I had plenty of experience in this matter.
In my early years, I had married many ghost brides.
And was often asked, "But you're a priest, how can you get married?"
"Zhengyi Taoist priests can choose to take a wife or not. In fact, in order to pass on my Celestial title, I must have an heir."
The man looked distraught, "And you're sure this will stop her from whispering into my ear every night?" He clutched the bag rather tightly.
"Don't you worry," I took the bag from his hands. "Everything will be fine."
We would perform the customary vows and the following night the man reported no more whisperings from his daughter, yet a week later, the police raided my hotel in a different district. The man had claimed that I had swindled him. That his daughter had returned and continued her whispering of terrible, horrible things that he dare not listen. Clanking and banging away in the walls as he covered his ears in fear until sunrise.
Fortunately, I was allowed to prove my innocence.
I returned and stayed in the man's room, waiting with him for signs of his daughter. And surely enough, late in the hour, I heard the wretched scraping and dragging in the walls. The man stopped breathing in his bed and laid perfectly still. Even I was afraid to move as the most dangerous aspects of my practice are in the unknown. My mind began racing, wondering if I had somehow botched the night wedding. Or worse, that the ghost bride wasn't his daughter at all, and I had inadvertently given this mysterious entity a special anchor to this world, a holy man.
The walls shook without reason. And a tiny noise could be heard near the man's bedside. He jumped off his mattress and ran to my side. The two of us watched as the noise traveled back and forth against the back wall like wooden clogs.
"My daughter did always carry around a rattle drum when she was little," the man whispered.
"Hush, don't let it capture your breath," I warned him. "Whatever this is, I don't believe it is your daughter. And because of the ritual, we may have increased its hold on this realm."
He whimpered, "Not my daughter?"
I held up my finger and traced the noise as it traveled in an odd form. I began to wonder if the entity was creating some sort of symbol.
"What are you drawing," the man cried.
"It may be creating a portal," I told him. "Now hush before it turns its attention toward us."
"Please, there must be something you can do?"
I reached into my bag and pulled out some incense. I lit the ends and began chanting. From my waist I pulled out a long yellow parchment. And drew on it a sealing spell. "Spirit," I called as I stepped forward. "I am a guiding light." The noise rattled with conviction as I drew closer. "Let me lead you to peace!" And with one quick motion I punched my hand through the wall, clutching the sealing spell in my palm, at the last place I heard the noise. To my displeasure I felt something wriggling in my grasp as something long and thin wrapped itself around my wrist, its end clawing at my forearm. I screamed when I felt its teeth sink between the soft flesh of my thumb and index finger. But I did not let go. Instead I pulled out this demon from the wall and threw it roughly to the ground.
The man screamed as he jumped onto a chair and screamed, "Rat!"
Yes. A simple field rat. That had a trap stuck on its tail which caused its movements to rattle in the wall. That had been rummaging near the man's nightstand because in one of the drawers he had left a bag of watermelon seeds.
Not all cases are this simple, and plenty are true to life supernatural encounters. Over the years my experience has taught me to be more cautious in my evaluations. Which was why when I finally arrived at the house of the massacre due to a failed night wedding. Every hair on my neck stood on end as I tried to be objective as possible.
But there was no denying that something heinous had occurred here. Bodies were still laying on the floor. Some with their faces in the dirt. Some missing their heads completely. And those with their faces up, were unrecognizable. I felt the cold presence of my first wife as she leaned into my ear and whispered to me, "This is the work of a ghost bride."
"How do you know?"
"I recognize her anger. It was mine before we were married."
"How do I know what?" A man walking toward me asked. "Are you the priest they called out here?"
He was average built, and in plain clothes, "Detective, why yes. I am here to assist you in anyway that I can."
The detective spitted on the ground, "Assist me? As far as I'm concerned we're wasting valuable time carrying on with this hocus pocus bullshit. The killer's trail will be cold by the time we get through all this religious tape." He wafted the air in front of his face, "And the dead bodies boiling out here. This is all your fault as well, as far as I'm concerned. Assist me," he snorted.
"Are there any eyewitnesses, Detective?"
"Several. But they are all saying the same damn thing. Spouting a bunch of nonsense. Which is why those religious nuts down at the town hall dredged you up."
"All non-relatives to the home owners?"
He snorted again, "Coincidence."
"Let us hope so," I told him. "Because the alternative is much worse." I walked the scene, going around the upturned tables, tracing the steps of carnage in the courtyard, to the main living room. There I saw the body of an old man, both hands clutching his chest, his face was completely missing. "Any surviving family members?"
"Some are still left," he grunted. "But we've gathered most of them under police protection."
"Have you located the husband?"
"Yeah, we're extraditing him as we speak."
"Extradite?"
"The foreigner took off in the middle of all the commotion. Boarded a flight back home according to our investigation. We've contacted the airline, and the airport security in America will hold him when he lands. As he is currently my number one suspect."
I circled the area in front of the shrine. Noting the spilled bowl and its contents on the ground. The position of the spoon next to it. Before standing in the spot on the left side where the effigy would have stood. "What about the bride?"
The detective shook his head, "What bride?"
"It was a night wedding," I told him. "There must have been a physical object acting as a stand in for the daughter's soul."
"Nothing more than bags of cotton usually," he paused. "But they did report that the stand-in this time was some sort of department figurine. A mannequin of some sort."
"Have you looked into that?"
"Why would I look into that. Are you crazy?"
"Right, you're right of course. You'd have to wait until after sunset to be able to figure out which mannequin serves as the ghost bride's earthly form."
The detective stormed off as if I had said something outlandish. Leaving me to my own devices, I interviewed a few of the neighbors who attended the night wedding, gathered some evidence and logged it with the other officers at the site, and then left for the nearest hotel in the city.
It had been a long month for me and I couldn't think of anything that I would enjoy more than a cold beer. So after checking in I went down to the bar, where an ethereal creature sat alone. She was beautiful to say the least and I had to strike up a conversation lest I live a life of regret, "S'il te plaît ma chérie, dis-moi comment on t'appelle pour que quand je sois perdu dans les ténèbres. Puis-je demander la lumière."
"What?"
"Oh, American. I apologize. I thought you were French."
"On my mother's side," she brushed away her hair.
I noticed the ring, "Ah, you are married. My sincerest apologies miss. I didn't know you were with someone."
"Newly married," she commented. "My husband is speaking with the concierge."
"Activities on vacation," I mused. "How wonderful."
"It's nothing like that. It seems someone has left him a note. And we're technically on our honeymoon." She paused, "Though this isn't where we're supposed to be. We're supposed to be in Hawaii."
I ordered a beer with the bartender and sipped my drink, "Hawaii is wonderful, but this is also a beautiful island. In fact, when the Portuguese came here, they named it Formosa. Which translates to beautiful island. It may not be where you're supposed to be, but perhaps you'll find that this is exactly where you need to be."
The woman sighed, "I don't even know anymore."
"Ah, I know what this is. I've great experience in these matters. Having been married many times. You feel doubt."
She laughed, "How many times have you gotten a divorce?"
"Divorce?" I laughed. "I never leave a woman after we have been wed."
She looked taken aback, "Oh. I didn't know polygamy was so common in these parts." She glanced behind her to where a tall man was standing with what looked to be the hotel's concierge. "I guess we're in the same boat."
"It's not what you think," I told her.
"Where have I heard that one before," she rolled her eyes.
"Larissa!" The man called for her.
She stood up, "Well, it was nice meeting you. Tell your wives I said hello."
I smiled as she left, glancing at my sides. "If only you knew," I said while sipping my beer.
Now in hindsight, if I were not so fatigued after nearly a month of hard work and constant traveling. I would have perhaps picked up on the fact that she too was familiar with the concubine lifestyle. Which was unusual in itself for an American. Or perhaps I would have picked up on the fact that Larissa was an uncommon name. As I had read Jim's article. But there was no such luck, which is why, when I say that I am deeply regretful of what I read on the news later about the couple, I am truly at a loss for what I could have prevented. But that is not my story to tell.
After I finished drinking at the bar I made my way to the elevator and got in. When a man coming towards me waved as a sign to hold the door, I called out, "It's full." He looked at me bewildered as I was the only person he could see in the elevator, before sticking his hand out to stop the elevator from ascending. Huffing and puffing, he glared at me angrily before pressing his floor number for the door to close. Except the elevator pinged. The weight capacity light had turned on above our heads. "Like I said, it's full." The man shook his head in amazement. Pressing his floor number again. The elevator pinged again. Unwilling to budge, the man kept pressing the button. I sighed and got out, "I'll wait for the next one."
And wait I did, even in my room I waited for night fall instead of resting. The thoughts of a botched night wedding swirling in my head. For the many things that could go wrong. Because even though I had much practice in these matters, I was still always nervous before a fight. So when night fell, I was red eyed and exhausted, but better mentally prepared than before.
But when I arrived back at the scene of the crime, I was not prepared for all of the commotion.
"Ka-kin-eh Ka-kin-eh," a man shouted as the fire blazed.
I grabbed one of the men running by with an empty bucket, "What happened here?"
"T-the villagers, they set the p-place on fire. Trying to rid the evil demon."
I let him go and shook my head. The fools! I made my way toward the courtyard where I saw the detective from earlier moping his forehead as he was helping put out the fire. "Detective! This is terrible," I yelled as the flames licked the night.
"No shit dumbass, it's a fire."
"You don't understand," I told him. "Now the entity has nowhere to return. We may never find it."
He threw the bucket to the floor and whirled around, "Enough! I've had enough! Listen here, there is a fire. F-I-R-E. This a real problem. If it catches to the fields, it could light the newly laid fertilizer on fire and catch the entire mountain!"
"Detective!"
That was the only word I had to say before he punched me. It was a dark night out, but stars had suddenly appeared. He hovered over me and I thought he would strike me again but then suddenly he froze. "What is that?"
I turned my head and looked out into the field. The heat of the fire burning the back of my head as I tried to stop my nose from bleeding. "Where?"
Neither one of us moved as we watched the tall field.
"Right there." He pointed.
I reached up and threw his hand down, "No! You never point at entities," I told him. "Now you could be marked!"
He ignored me and reached for his gun, "Stop! Hey you! I order you to stop or I'll shoot!"
I looked into the field, scanning the endless rows before my eyes stopped and froze in horror. At one point in time the thing must have been a simple plastic mannequin. Standing in a department store perhaps. But now, it was twisted and gnarled. Its face beading and unrecognizable. The thing stood on all fours sometimes threes as it swayed slowly back and forth. It moved without form because it didn't have the constraint of joints as normal people as it was still objectively, plastic. It swung its arms behind it and used that as leverage to run, turning its head completely around - cracking the seams that had somehow still held and took off.
The detective rung a shot out at it. I think it struck but it didn't matter as the mannequin disappeared in the field. The detective must have lost his mind because he gave chase.
I couldn't let him go alone so I followed. Pulling out my long yellow parchment as I wrote on it the symbols for sealing, hoping the simple spell would work. As we entered the tall field.
It was chaos. The ground was mushy beneath my feet, and the smell of fecal matter assaulted my senses further. In the brush I had lost the detective, so I was forced to tell my wives to help me locate his whereabouts. They didn't often leave my side, and some were reluctant but ultimately agreed.
I stood in the field, waiting with bated breath as I heard further gunshots in the distance. I couldn't wait for my wives to gather as I tore after the detective. And just in time as I saw him standing, looking absolutely terrified as he shot blindly into the fauna until his pistol clicked. The mannequin lunged for him. But I got there first. Pushing him to the ground, causing both of us to tumble.
He was eating a mouth of dirt as I pulled him to his feet. "We have to get out of this field! The ghost bride will pick us off in this thicket!"
Stumbling, and running, the two of us were covered in more than dirt. Several times we heard rustling nearby as if something were running alongside us. But eventually we made it out into the open plain. The detective trying to catch his breath as he reloaded his pistol.
"Shooting it doesn't work," he panted. "But maybe I can disable it from moving."
"Shut up," I told him. "Listen."
He stopped for a moment and we waited. Then all of the stalks before us shook wildly as if a hundred people were running through them. The detective raised his arm but I stopped him as my wives ran out of the field.
They were terrified as they ran right through us.
I hadn't experienced the feeling in awhile but the coldness as their ghostly forms went through our bodies like ice was enough to bring us both to our knees, clutching our chests as we struggled to breathe. I had passed through one or two in a row before. But never 10 or 20 at a time.
"What was that," the detective managed to gasp, his fingers in a death grip around his gun.
"A blue procession," I told him. "Something caused all of my dead wives to flee."
We looked up as the leaves in front of us rustled.
"Is it..."
I shook my head, running forward to catch her. My 13th wife, Ah-ren. Her arm was missing, and a part of her shoulder. She was an innocent girl that had drowned when she was alive. Her innocence carried on with her to the afterlife where many souls generally grew up embittered. But never her, always sweet my girl, just weary of water.
"I didn't want to go," she told me.
"I know," I held her. "I'm sorry."
"It got some of the others too. But Meita got in its way and told me to run." She cried.
"Don't cry I told her. You know how you hate getting wet."
"I don't want to go. I wanted to stay with you. All of us together."
I didn't even have the chance to say goodbye as her soul splintered and disappeared forever.
I had never felt such fury. In all my years, a womanizer, a liar, a cheat at cards, a scoundrel, a bastard even. But an undutiful husband? Never.
Without thinking I approached the field and cast a spell that was forbidden.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm cursing the field. All beings alive or dead will forever feel displaced when they enter here. A feeling of unending dread and doom will overcome them, causing madness if they do not leave or are unable to." I reached into my side and threw a handful of salt. It landed on the ground as I chanted. The winds carrying it into the field, the small white morsels rolling obediently into the darkness.
"Nothings happening," the detective's word stuck in his mouth as a horrible scream echoed into the night. It sounded like two pieces of steel being twisted together.
"There," I took off after it. The jumbled figure of the mannequin charged out of the field and fled toward the village.
We followed it through the streets and between alleyways; the villagers screamed and hid when they saw it. We barged through home after home as we chased it. Until we cornered it at an abandoned building on the edge of town.
"It was supposed to be a mall," the detective told me. "But the developers ran out of money."
We walked quietly into the empty building. Shells of stores stood in various degrees of construction. We checked a few of the empty fronts before venturing deeper inside.
"You've got to be kidding me," the detective said as we came near the center of the complex. There next to the escalators and the fountains was an army of mannequins of all shapes and sizes lined up like terracotta warriors. "They must have stashed them all here when the place was being built, and forgot about them when it closed."
"There are hundreds."
"We'll go through together. Quickly and quietly." He added, "Stay alert."
We moved through the rows, staring at all of the stuck faces, searching for one covered in grime and bullet holes. But it was more difficult than it sounded. Many of the mannequins were in bad shape, weathered, broken, laying in pieces on the ground. It was hard to tell if a pile of parts was indeed our culprit.
Slowly we began to clear the rows and I could see the other side in sight.
"There!" The detective shot his gun. The surrounding mannequins dropped like dominoes when the entity scattered. Falling down all around us, drowning in a sea of plastic arms and smiling faces, I struggled to breathe. "I think I'm stuck," I told the detective. But he wasn't listening, his eyes were concentrating on the entity as it came rushing toward us. He fired his gun blowing out one of the mannequin's knee caps. I hurriedly reached for my parchment nearby but could not find my pen. Another shot, another hit, but the scorned bride kept on charging unable to feel pain.
It jumped into the air and the detective blew the rest of its face away before he started screaming as the bride began to eat him. Pieces of his sinew was launched into the air as he was torn apart. I freed myself and rushed forward trying to help but the creature grabbed me by the throat and lifted me into the air. My feet scratching the ground as my lungs folded trying to breathe. The thing turned its head toward me and said, "Will you marry me?" As the darkness closed into the corners of my eyes.
The fight was leaving my body as I saw several of my wives rushing forward. Their ghostly forms bloodlusted as they began tearing at the mannequin, slowly pulling out pieces of her soul, causing the mannequin's arms and legs to go limp as they dragged her out of the corporeal form.
I hit the ground and scrambled the floor blindly with my fingers searching for my sacred parchment but could not find it amongst the rubble. I had no time to look further as the ghost bride was fleeing, leaving the shell of her mannequin in a heap on the floor. My wives chasing after her, screaming their fury for her killing the others. For destroying their souls.
I chased after them outside into the open air, where she had been cornered. She was crying as I approached, trying to escape into the Southwest wind. Begging for forgiveness. I knew what I should have done, but could not bring myself to do the right thing. Instead I bit my finger and drew symbols on my forearms with my own blood. Approaching the bride that never was and tore her soul into pieces.
When I was done my wives sat down around me before slowly dispersing as the sun began to rise.
A familiar voice came, "We did it huh?"
I continued staring at the sun, "Yeah."
"Well then," the detective said before disappearing. "Maybe in the next life I'll be sooner to trust you."
Later they would find his body in the abandoned mall. Still clutching his gun. The department gave him a 21 gun salute at his funeral and a medal as commemoration. I was just glad that his soul had not been eaten.
I, on the other hand, went back to the hotel. To the bar and ordered a well deserved drink. Where I saw a pretty woman sitting alone, "Did you know that in order for me to pass on my Celestial title, I must bear an heir?"


s
submitted by CornerCornea to nosleep [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 06:13 Falas-Balar The Last One (Pt 6)

Part 5
It was silent - the ship cruising through the upper atmosphere felt heavy. Numbness crept through him as he stared where once billions had lived and now - there was simply nothing. Just ... roiling gas swept by Jupiter's winds and an emptiness in his gut. Gerand realized he had never known hopelessness before. This must be what victims had felt after bombings or calamities. Shock was setting in finally, he was surprised it had taken this long.
Flashing red alerts and a wailing siren forced him back to the present. Collision alarms had Dan twisting the ship almost sideways to escape whatever danger was present. The screens said something from below them was closing in fast.
Suddenly breaking free of the orange layers of gas below them came a mass of metal. The turbulence of the wind being pushed forward took hold of the ship and tossed it to the side. While they barrel rolled, the sector of Jupiter's Ring they had just escaped along with it's adjacent powered sector flew past them.
It took Daniel several sickening seconds to regain control of the craft, but once they were upright again, an amazing sight greeted these few survivors.
The two powered sectors had ripped free of the rest of the collapsing city. The side closest to them was miles of shorn metal. Atmosphere venting, fires billowing, and junk spewing from the dissected cityscape. But it was there. Bobbing wildly, searching for stability as thousands of corrective engines and antigravity devices rose in uniform action to keep it upright. 3,000 miles of this magnificent construct had ripped themselves free of the dead city and been propelled into the upper atmosphere. Only Jupiter's gravity had kept it from escaping and wrested it back into it's orbital plane.
Somehow this chaotic scene had gripped Gerand within. It was like watching a giant fight for survival. For the first time in days, a new feeling began to seep into him. Hope - unexplainable and irrational. He looked around and saw it had affected everyone. Daniel most of all.
The human had an odd half smile and wet eyes. "We don't die that easy." He whispered.
Their reverie was interrupted by a soft thud. Turning, Gerand saw the doctor on the floor.
"Sorry, I'm exhausted. Can you help me to a bed."
Gerand immediately went and picked up Navir. "Dan, do you have room for us? I'm worn out too."
"Second compartment, there's a wall that unfolds an upper and lower bed. Also, I'll hang a hammock for you - you're too tall for them. Just give me a second to hook up with the star engine and input our destination."
Gerand was surprised. "We have a destination?"
"Yep, found a rendezvous for survivors while in there. I'll explain after we sleep."
//////////////////
Calm my child, fear not the dark/ As all is lost, keep just a spark/ Run not from Death nor his kind embrace/ He holds us in a secret place---
Meet me there, oh child dear/ On the ninth, good news you'll hear/ As the sun does die, and evils rise/ Together we meet the god we despise---
Though the winter is long/ Spring heals all harms/ On the ninth, the god of death/ Holds the souls of men in his arms
//
Gerand was confused. "How does this tell us where to go. I thought you said it's an old nursery rhyme."
Daniel was practically beaming. "I know, I can't believe it. It's just a dumb lullaby, but I found it on three separate computers and in the station files for emergency procedures. It's brilliant."
Navir was sitting on the floor, holding the slime and squeezing it with his digits. Soothes the nerves Dan had said. He chimed in. "So what, it's a code? And if its a common lullaby, how do you know it means anything?"
"It's a code. One that's been passed down for generations. No one thought about it. But the government doesn't throw random rhymes in official documents. Plus, only a human would realize it's telling us something."
"What's it telling us?" Skalan's communicator cut in as he was glowing a very annoyed red. "You've been dancing around it while we've been traveling to the edge of the system for almost 10 hours."
Dan leaned back in his chair. "Pluto."
"What?"
"Pluto, an ancient god of death. Also the ninth planet."
Gerand went through Sol's planet list on his fingers before saying what the others where thinking. "But there's only 8 planets."
"That's what's so great about it." Dan was laughing. "There's only 8 planets - unless you count the ninth one."
He leaned forward.
"Ok, quick history lesson. About 85 years before the Mutilation, a bunch of Earth's astronomer's got together to talk about space stuff. At the time we had nine planets. They decided that the ninth one was too small or something to be an 'real' planet, so they said we only had eight now. Guess it made a bunch of people mad at the time, but it stuck that way."
"Since that's something humans only learn in science class as kids, it's considered a trivia thing. Makes since that no aliens would ever think twice about it. The lullaby came around a few years before the Preservation War, so I figure that must of been a way of making it an emergency code of sorts."
Gerand felt that this had to be one of the dumbest things he had heard. All of it really. Who just makes a planet not a planet. Not to mention this supposed long term emergency plan that includes singing to children about death gods.
Skalan verbalized it for them. "So you're a conspiracy theorist now? And not a very convincing one either."
Dan laughed again and swiveled the pilot's chair facing forward again. "We'll see when we get there. But when there's a bunch of ships and people all hanging out by what you think is a random rock, you're buying my drinks."
submitted by Falas-Balar to HFY [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:37 Impressive_Sherbert3 When I worked for the Barnetts (pre-Natalia)

Overall the general consensus was people wanted to hear my story. I am going to share it and you can take it for what it’s worth as I don’t have any tangible proof. (Minus the screenshots from 2019 I posted on my original post when I contacted my friend who worked with me at the Barnetts)
So like I said my story is not anything mind blowing.. it’s mainly to give insight as to what Kristine and Michael were like and what I’m only assuming they are like to this day.
This is a bit of an edited comment I made on another post. I have added to it since I have watched the documentary.
I have not spoken to them in years but even back in the day when I “worked” for Kristine I felt uneasy. My friend and I both did . To the point where we were thinking about contacting social services.
Kristine had an in home daycare in her house. My friend I would go there after we got out of school (we were seniors in high school). It was a good job for an 18 year old who loved kids to have. We thought.
But we would get there and want to play with the kids and the kids would all be in high chairs or these little zipped up hammocks/cocoons where they could not get out. I called it “baby jail”.
She kept the kids sitting in high chairs and the cocoons for hours until around 5PM when pick up time started then she would let them get out and play and act like daycare teacher of the year. My friend and I hated it. And when we tried to take the kids out to play with them Kristine would freak out and tell us we could just go home with no pay if we didn’t follow her rules.
Michael rarely came out of his room .. and if he did Kristine would barely acknowledge him. He would slink down get some food and go back up stairs. He always look disheveled. He was either in his room or not at home. (At Work I assume?)
In my opinion Jacob was always so smart. He used to take popsicle sticks and matchbox cars and he would “build” the interstate out if Popsicle sticks and have his matchbox cars travel on his popsicle stick hwy.. he knew all the exits and names of streets. (It was interstate 465 for anyone familiar with Indianapolis)
She would also let Jacob play with toys in the playroom on the floor while the other kids had to sit strapped into high chairs for hours.
Wesley was little and Ethan wasn’t born yet.
Also. I in believe in the documentary Michael talks about how wealthy they were? If I’m not mistaken? Where I grew up (Carmel Indiana) was right next to Westfield Indiana where the Barnetts lived. We lived in the wealthiest county in the state but that being said.. the Barnetts didn’t live super nicely or extravagantly like he said they did.
They had a 4 bedroom house and it was nice but not anything crazy. They didn’t have excess of stuff. Unless that came after I left. But the house they showed on the documentary.. that was the exterior of the house I went to to work at
None of this financial stuff matters but it just provides context to the fact that Michael and Kristine were frequently lying or exaggerating.
I don’t recall a Lamborghini or any luxury cars either but again that could have come after I left. I watched the show and someone mentioned the Cadillac.
I actually wondered if they were getting money from Jacob making appearances prior to him being an adult. But I don’t have confirmation for that.
In my opinion, Kristine always wanted Jacob to be her meal ticket. He was practically a genius and she pushed him hard. I’d I recall correctly he went to college as a kid and was a math genius. I think he even had a TED Talk.
Kristine was very unsettling and weird and made me feel uneasy like she was unhinged and could go over the edge at any minute. But she had this really sweet soft spoken voice that fooled you. It creeped my friend and I out.
I don’t have a lot to say ab Michael. At the time he seemed like Kristine’s bitch. He really never came out of his room and when he did he was whine to Kristine and would complain. But I never had any direct interactions with him.
That’s all I have, sorry it took so long to post. I just switched to night shift as a first responder and my sleep schedule is a hot mess. I guess my takeaway was when I heard the news .. that my friend and I were validated in our weird guy feelings about Kristine. I never dreamed of a story that extreme and bizarre. But I knew Kristine was not right in the head.
submitted by Impressive_Sherbert3 to nataliagrace [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 04:08 strawburymilkshakee The Dead Zone remake?

edit- and as usual, the old simps are lame and can't provide any feedback other than nO i dOnT lIkE tHE nEw cARrIe sO nEvEr rEmAke aNotHeR mOvIe AGAIN! 🤡 just as they always will on the sub. This isn't about how the dead zone movie touched you 40 years ago. Watch it now. It's dull
i watched the '83 movie and it was alright but obviously very outdated theatrically. Made me think of how blessed we could be if they decided to do a remake.
I'd want Jordan Peele in the Directors chair. He is brilliant with incorporating political themes into the horror genre.
Jason Bateman as Johnny Smith. He is known as a regular, funny dude but has the capability of nailing darker roles (Ozark, The Outsider) and has worked with King in the past.
My first choice for Stillson would be Phillip Seymour Hoffman because i think he'd be perfect but RIP... who would you want as a main cast if they were to remake it?
submitted by strawburymilkshakee to stephenking [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 03:55 ManBehindReality The black tale

A couple months ago me and my friends went on a camping trip. We had a small trailer and there was five of us, small enough to barley fit in the trailer but we managed. We liked to swim in the lake, go on hikes, that kind of stuff. We often told campfire story’s at night. They were never that scary. That was until one night we were all sitting down at the camp fire talking, drinking and snacking having fun. It was pitch black out with the only light source being the orange glow of the campfire.
We were surrounded by thick bush with a small trail leading to the main path area. We were beside the public bathroom area that was connected to the path. As we were all listening to one of my friends telling a campfire story, a tall pale man wearing old worn clothing and a cowboy hat with one of those big backpacks came out of the path. He interrupted asking if he could listen to the story, my friend (let’s call him drew) didn’t think much of it and politely said yes. Me, a bit suspicious, moved over to a log placed beside my friends chair a bit away from him. I sat down and he continued on with his story.
A few minutes later he Finnished the story and the man who came in , asked if he could tell a story. He explained it’s not like any other story, it’s one that will leave you sick in the stomach, one that will make you scared to fall asleep at night. They said sure and shrugged it off. Me, feeling a bit weirded out by the whole situation, told them I was going to use the bathroom. I went down the path as he began his story. I walk in the bathroom and go on my phone for a couple minutes I hear the old mysterious mans muffled voice in the background. After about ten minutes passed, I walked back to the area to see my friends staring blankly into nothing as if they had seen or heard something horrible.
The man was gone and it was completely devoid of any sound other than the faint crackle of the fire. I laughed it off and asked them what the man had told them. Drew, looking like he just saw a ghost just told me the man was sick walked off to his bed in the trailer. The other ones seemed pretty out of it as well. I didn’t really think it was a joke at this point. They put out the fire and walked back to the trailer. I put out the fire and got into the trailer. A couple minutes after I finnaly got comfortable, one of them groaned and insisted we slept with the lights on. I gave him a funny grin and he got really mad and told me that we don’t know what could be out there at night time. I shrugged it off and turned on the lights.
As we started to sleep one of them jolts out of their bed and the other ones all quickly looked at him in fear. He explained he woke up from a bad dream, drew got up and said he can’t do this anymore. The other ones were just as paraniod. I was starting to wonder what they had heard. I told them to just go to bed and they would be fine in the morning. I fall do sleep after about 20 minutes. They were still completely out of it. Around 3:20 I heard a loud thud. I looked around and they were all still up and biting their nails and looking around anxiously. I was still half asleep so I just went back to bed.
The next morning would be the night that will be forever burned into my memory. I woke up to find every one of them mangled beyond recognition. They were stretched and twisted , their face was completely frozen in the most disturbing facial expressions I have ever seen in my life.
Their fingers were crooked and their body was covered in blood. I screamed in complete horror as I ran out of the trailer. I didn’t call 911 I just started my car and drove out of that place as fast as I can. It’s been a few months and it’s still not on the news. I don’t know what they heard that night but what ever it was, I’m so glad I didn’t listen. If you see this crooked pale man, please, please respectfully leave.
submitted by ManBehindReality to creekyhours [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 03:11 lets-split-up I went on a cruise, and found the source of the rotting smell…

Imagine walking into a burning building, and everyone laughs and tells you the fire’s all in your head. When no one believes you, are you going to stay to burn up with them? Every passenger in that crowd waiting to embark on the luxury cruise was already dead—they just didn’t know it yet! I stared through the windows of the terminal at the magnificent Seastar, at the broken glass and spatters of blood that only I could see… and then I fled.
Without warning a single soul.
What would have been the point? My name is Cassandra—I see death six days before it happens, and can feel it if I shake a cold hand—but no matter what I do, I can never, ever prevent it.
My flight took me as far as the escalators before a flash of purple brought me screeching to a halt. Lily Tsuki? No—it wasn’t the purple-haired musician who’d given me with cruise gift card. But suddenly I remembered how I’d been looking forward to hearing her performance aboard this very vessel…
Oh God…
It was one thing to turn my back on doomed strangers. Terrible as it sounds, it’s a bit like reading about a catastrophe in the news. Quite another thing to abandon somebody I knew! Could I really leave her to become one of the bodies putrefying in the belly of the Seastar? Every time I ordered a drink at my favorite bar, I’d remember I hadn’t even tried to save her!
“Fuck!” I cried, fumbling for my phone. “Oh, fuck me sideways… how much time…?”
Ninety minutes.
Ninety minutes to get on board, find the musician, and… what? Convince her to disembark?
How?
And yet my feet were already turning toward the gangplank—because as it turns out, I would rather plunge headlong into a ship full of the rotting dead than face an empty piano bench and the guilt that no amount of alcohol would ever drown. But to have any chance at persuading Lily, I’d need to know how the passengers died. This meant that in addition to finding a purple-haired needle in a Titanic-sized haystack, a horrifying task loomed ahead of me. I was going to have to do something I had not done in a very long time—plunge directly into my vision. Walk into its very maw and face whatever gruesome horrors lurked at the source of that nauseating odor.
I was going to have to find the bodies…
… and whatever killed them.
Boarding
The stench was so overpowering after crossing the gangplank that I dropped to my knees and dry heaved. The flow of passengers moved around me past the concierge desk. I must have looked exceptionally sick, because a pretty girl in a suit skirt approached, asking if I needed assistance. She reached out a hand to help me up—cold!
I staggered away from her and inside. Then—because I felt I might throw up—quickly found my way out to the promenade deck and the blessed breeze.
Lifeboats hung overhead. Beyond the rail, the sea sparkled in the afternoon sun. Cushioned loungers lined the deck. None were in use, presumably because the pool, patio, spa, and other amenities on the upper decks had much more attractive areas for lounging. I leaned against the rail and gulped the air, listening to the waves splash against the side of the boat, noting blood spatters further down—but nothing signifying the cause of the blood. Just vague signs of violence.
After circling the entire promenade deck and spotting only the occasional bloody spatters, I gritted my teeth, pulled my shirt collar up over my nose, and plunged into the nearest door.
The Seastar’s interior had the atmosphere of a luxury hotel. People milled about the restaurant and shopping area, buzzing with excitement, talking about cabaret shows and fine dining, while perky crew members answered questions, all perfectly oblivious to the putrid sweet rotting stench. I’d most likely find Lily Tsuki at the piano lounge, but since I didn’t yet have any plausible explanation for what had happened to the passengers, I continued wandering, entering a bustling café overlooking the ship’s grand staircase. Stepping over an enormous blood stain on the carpet, I passed the counter, nauseated by the fancy pastries behind their glass cases, peering among the tables and chairs. Paused when I spotted an eyeball in a teacup. No trace of how it got there. No body with an empty socket. Just the eyeball, swirling in a congealed bloody jelly at the bottom of the cup…
I scurried away, snatching a cloth napkin to cover my nose.
The interior darkened as I ascended the central staircase. No electricity, I noted as I clutched the railing. Why would the power be cut? A storm?
But storms don’t scoop out eyeballs with a dessert spoon….
Coming onto deck 6, I peered down a long, dim corridor lined with passenger cabins. To passengers coming and going, the hall was illuminated by electric lighting—but since I was seeing the ship six days in the future, the narrow hallway vanished into blackness. With no way to enter the cabins, and nothing much to see here or in the other dimmed halls of the passenger decks, I ascended until I reached the pool.
Pool Deck
Deck 9 opened to wide panoramic windows, dining, a spa, and of course the pool. I emerged outdoors with relief, removing the napkin from my nose as the sea breeze gave some respite from the odor.
Around me, people partied in bikinis and beachwear and suits, sipping all manner of drinks around the sky-blue swimming pool. A young woman stretched on a blood-spattered lounger, oblivious to the gore beneath her tanned figure. A few bodies floated among the swimmers, bloated and discolored. My vision shimmered briefly as a teen boy swam right through one of the bodies, splashing as if it were not there. My heart lurched when I realized that it was his own, albeit dressed in different clothes—
Oof!” I grunted as a small figure bashed into me, her arm grazing mine.
“Sorry!” cried a little girl in a pink swimsuit, bolting by as her mother yelled at her to watch out for people.
I tried not to think of how cold the little girl’s arm felt. Counted the bodies: eight in the pool. One by the towel bin, head caved in. I made a circuit of the pool, occasionally brushing against people—cold, cold, cold.
No survivors, it seemed.
But why?
That was when I spotted a shirtless old man sitting at a table under an umbrella. I froze, goosebumps prickling along my skin. Unlike the floaters, there was no obvious reason for his death. His back was to me, the bare skin of his shoulders gray and blotchy. In his hand he held a broken drinking glass. He was positioned in repose… so what killed him?
My heart quickened as I moved round to the front of him.
His mouth hung open, shards of glass and a mangled tongue lolling out, crimson trailing down his shirt front. The source of the chewed glass was obvious—the cup in his hand was broken, its jagged edges bloody.
He’d died choking on the glass.
“What the fuck is happening here?” I whispered.
Forward Stairwell
The jogging track and the sundeck—decks 10 and 11—offered a stunning bird’s eye of the pool and ocean, but I did not stop to take this in as I circled to the bow, opting to take the forward stairs down, rather than central.
The stench hit me like a cloud.
I had to stop as I descended into the dim stairwell, clinging to the railing, doubled over, gagging. It was so so bad. My eyes watered. My stomach bucked. And it was dark. Thank God for my phone’s flashlight. I fumbled it on and, napkin firmly over my nose, plunged down into the depths… The phone’s thin illumination flashed along the carpeted stairwell and the hall of the first of the passenger decks. I kept descending. Paused at an unidentifiable slick red mound. I was examining it under my light when a crewmember jogged up to me and asked, “Lose something, miss?” “Just my marbles,” I muttered, shooing the crew member away and inadvertently brushing his hand. Cold. I turned my attention back to the mound.
A slimy pile of intestines on the stairwell… trailing down to a disemboweled body.
Intestines… eyeballs… eating broken glass… nothing about this makes sense! I swiveled the beam to check further downward.
That was when I found the source of the odor.
My path down was obstructed by a mass of bodies. The ones underneath seemed to have been trampled, but the ones on top… I squeezed my watering eyes and retched against the wall. Some of the bodies bore horrible mutilations—fingers bent and twisted, joints out of alignment, faces smashed in and jaws torn open. Many more appeared to have been crushed in the press of bodies. Best guess, there was a wave of panicked people rushing upstairs from below, colliding with a wave of others fleeing down from above.
Why this staircase? What was near this part of the ship?
The cabaret lounge, I realized. No electricity. No elevators. This was the nearest stairwell to the auditorium.
Closer. I was inching closer to uncovering the fates of the passengers. And yet, I still had no idea what the passengers were fleeing from. Who were the attackers? Or… I thought of the eyeball. The glass chewed and swallowed.
An icy pinprick at the base of my skull whispered the question I didn’t want to ask…
Why? Why did some of the passengers go mad, and do it to themselves?
Piano Bar
I took the long way round to the cabaret theatre, going all the way back up the stairs and coming down on the central staircase, only to detour on hearing the notes of a piano. I found myself in a cozy lounge and spotted a purple-haired figure at the keys. And just in time—the ship was due to depart in less than half an hour!
“Lily!” I rushed over.
The musician’s face lit. “Oh it’s you, friend! You made it!”
“You’ve got to get off the ship!”
“Off the—”
“I know it seems crazy but you’ve got to! Everyone on board is going to die—I’ve seen it because I’m psycho!” I heard it a second later and smacked my forehead. “I mean—psychic! PSYCHIC!! I can see the future.” At her scrunched eyebrows, I burst, “Look I know how I sound, but I’ve been able to see things since I was a little girl, and I am telling you that this ship is going to go dark! The engines will cut out! People are going to flee and trample each other on that forward staircase…” Launching into a rapid-fire recounting, I was just getting to the eyeball in the teacup when she interrupted:
“You’re afraid of some sort of terrorist attack?”
“No, no! No! It’s almost like… a kind of madness, a contagion, that spreads through the ship—”
“A zombie apocalypse?”
“Not zombies…”
“Poltergeists? Possession?” She played a riff from a horror movie. “Should we call an exorcist?”
“We should leave!” I checked my phone. “Quickly!—"
“What an odd duck you are! I can’t imagine any sort of catastrophe as big as you’re saying. You know this ship has tons of safety protocols. And even if I did believe some disaster were drawing near—do you really think I could abandon crowds and crew?” She looked at me over her glasses, shimmering purple lips curving in a smile. “Listen friend, if this were the Titanic and I was the only one who could see the iceberg, I’d stay to steer us right, not run off leaving everyone to die!”
Icy fingers raked along my spine. Even if she wasn’t taking me seriously, she was right—I did have a moral obligation to save people. An obligation I’d been trying to fulfill ever since I was a little girl, until the attempt killed my brother, and even after, I kept trying for years and years…. until at last I realized that there is no way to change anything. That is why I call myself Cassandra. For the Greek prophet doomed to predict the future but never be believed. Try and prevent what I’ve foreseen? You might as well try and pluck the stars from the sky!
Every hand I’d touched was cold. Everyone on board would die.
My fists balled, fingernails digging so hard into my palms they bled. “You really have no idea what you’re asking of me…”
“Oh, I’m not telling you to stay. I’m just explaining why I have to. Besides, I’m under contract.” She winked and focused on her playing as guests entered and sat at nearby tables.
She had no idea! None whatsoever! If I thought there was even a sliver of a hope, I wouldn’t abandon people! Oh, if this happy-go-lucky musician understood the futility!!
But she will, came another, darker thought. She will know the full depth of the horror coming…
“No,” I whispered.
“Huh?” She shouted, “Wait—friend, where are you going?”
But I was not listening. The cabaret theatre—was the answer there? The reason for the crush of bodies in the forward stairwell? I rushed past the cafe with the eyeball in the teacup, through the grand doors into the cabaret hall—
—but the cabaret hall was surprisingly quiet, save for a light touch of classical music. A few passengers mingled here or there, unnoticing of the cadavers draped on chairs and tables. The stage itself was pristine, the wood smooth and polished in the fading orange light through the windows. Apparently, the origin of the panicked flight up the forward stairwell was not this grand entertainment venue—nothing here supported that theory.
Nonetheless, I gave the place a thorough search until my phone’s battery ran low, and then I returned to the grand staircase.
In one direction lay passenger cabins. In the other, the gangplank back to the port terminal and safety.
“It’s not too late to be a coward, Cass,” I said. “Run from the ship, run from the empty piano bench at the bar, find a different, cheaper hole in the wall to crawl into like—like the cockroach you are…”
Always the survivor, eh…?
Or… or, I could try just one more time. “‘Hope,’” my brother always said, “is the thing with feathers.”
And look what happened to him! flashed through my mind. My heart slammed against my ribcage. I’d just die too, unless I left in the next—how many minutes? I checked my phone, but it was dead. Like I would be if I stayed.
A horn sounded the Seastar’s departure. A distant cheer rose up from the upper decks and balconies. I felt a brief panicky impulse to run back out on deck and throw myself off the ship… but in truth, my fate had already been decided before the ship’s horn blew. I hadn’t been paying attention earlier, but I’d been rubbing and rubbing my hands, and finally realized they were cold. Probably had been since I’d boarded. I shuffled leaden feet toward the passenger cabins, guided by my phone’s light to the brass number plate for 4044—my cabin. Reached for the knob and stopped.
That smell—dread squeezed my intestines like a wet rag.
Smoke. Burnt meat.
I wrinkled my nose and opened the door.
Orange rays shone through the window, the sunset so vivid it almost gave the illusion that the room was on fire. The walls and ceiling were charred. The edges of the mattress and sheets a smoldered ruin. But the worst damage was the small sofa by the coffee table. Broken bottles scattered round. And there on the sofa—
My fingers went limp on the door handle as I stared into melted sockets of a body charred beyond recognition. A dark line encircled its wrist. The blackened remnants of a charm bracelet.
My bracelet.
While the man on the pool deck swallowed glass, I would succumb to the insanity here, dousing myself in alcohol and flame—
immolating myself.
[Part 1]
submitted by lets-split-up to nosleep [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 03:00 iwantcartier Updated Trade & ISO. Message me!

Updated Trade & ISO. Message me! submitted by iwantcartier to WebkinzWorld [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 02:56 sroselli1203 Dog Proofing 2nd row captains chairs?

Anybody have suggestions to fully dog proof captains chairs? I’ve got weathertech mats and would have loved to get some sort of hammock style cover and something to protect the door, but options seem so limited! Weather tech offers some basic seat protectors that seem a little shoddy for the price. I just don’t know what to do.
submitted by sroselli1203 to KiaTelluride [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 02:20 AgileFormal8223 Getting rid of hammock chair

Anyone interest in a sling seat Wise Owl hammock? I’ve been using it some as the weather permits but it’s really not for me as I prefer to lay rather than sit. Price on Amazon is $37, asking $22 since used but in great condition and nothing is missing.
submitted by AgileFormal8223 to gmu [link] [comments]


2023.06.07 01:54 CoastBloom333 Wedding recap: 47 people for $8500 in Colorado Springs

We just had our wedding and it all went so well! We had the goal of not going into any debt for the wedding and saving/paying as we went. Our goal budget was 6k - we went a bit over. When we first got engaged, I thought I would do so much DIY to cut costs but I was over the idea pretty quickly and tried to balance cost with ease. I also busted my ass on extra projects at work for some funds to splurge a little on my bridal outfit.
Basically, we had a ceremony in a park with a friend officiating and a reception in the event space at a brewery/restaurant. We rented decor, used Spotify for music, and had a short photography package. The brewery provided food, servers, cupcakes (which we did in place of cake), tables, chairs, a surprising amount of options in linens, set up all the centerpieces, and boxed them up for us to pick up in the morning. They also had a microphone for speeches and an okay sound system when plugged into a phone. I did my own hair and makeup and did not need alterations on my dress because I ordered it with custom measurements from Azazie. Save the dates and invites were mostly through With Joy, but we did print about a dozen for parents and older folks. We splurged on our hotel room for its closeness to the reception - we just walked across the street!
Budget breakdown:
The bar tab at the reception (~$1500) was a gift from my in laws.
A lot of thoughts:
If any future Colorado Springs brides would like info on local venues, etc., feel free to DM me! I'm happy to share what I found.
Non professional photos here
submitted by CoastBloom333 to Weddingsunder10k [link] [comments]