Twisted tea slightly sweet nutrition facts

Hello everyone!
Recently I've been reading the WN of TsukiMichi, and while I do think the translations are passable, I don't think they could be considered all that good, especially from the perspective of a native English speaker.
I will iterate though, that I respect Reigokai for everything he has done, and I am quite grateful to even be able to experience the web novel in any form or fashion.
Carrying onto the main point of this post, whilst I do enjoy the web novel, I was curious what it may look like if the translations were a bit more natural and free flowing.
I am no writer, but I decided to try my hand at reviewing and revising a couple chapters at the beginning of the WN just to see how much of a difference it might make.
I should mention that the revisions were simply made to the material provided by Reigokai, I built upon whatever he had translated, and did not refer to the original work. I can't read enough Japanese to be able to directly translate after all. I simply tried to infer the meaning from what was already presented in the web novel, and make it a little more clear.
I would love to get others opinions on my revisions and what you think in comparison to the original.Any form of constructive criticism would be welcome!
For example, did I take too much creative liberty in redescribing some situations, did I fluff it up too much, are there any changes you think were unnecessary or detract away from the experience?
On top of that do you think I should continue? It's honestly quite time consuming to do this, so I don't know if I will, but it was enjoyable for what it's worth so I may if I feel like it!
While reading you may find a couple of grammatical errors and such, I hope you won't mind!
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TL;DR: I revised two chapters of the TsukiMichi WN and would appreciate constructive feedback.
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Prologue: This is the beginning of the autumn sky
I woke up, made breakfast, and in the meantime prepared my lunchbox.
I left for school, then went to club for morning practice.
Finishing up my club’s morning practice, I headed to class.
Once that was finished, I once again went back to club in the afternoon.
After hanging out with my friends in club, I went back home.
I took a bath, and then I changed.
I enjoyed some time with my family, and then I rested.
In the late nights of autumn, I read books, played games, and surfed the web.
Finally, I slept.
That’s all I did.
There might have been something in between the lines, but that’s not particularly important.
“That’s why it’s strange... Why I am not asleep in the comforts of my own home!?”
That’s right... without a doubt... I’m somewhere else.
I don’t exactly know where, but here I am.
In a square room that looks as if stars were printed on the walls and floor.
In order to better assess my situation, I went around inspecting the room.
I was concerned by the fact that there was no obvious exit present.
On top of that, ever since I got here, I haven’t felt the presence of anything or anyone else.
Currently, I am entrusting my back to a corner of the room, while I ponder my situation.
“You are extremely calm considering your circumstances, huh.”
“?!”
A voice...
There’s definitely nothing present in this room, yet I’m certain I heard a loud voice.
Looking around, I saw that nothing in the room had visibly changed.
The voice continued.
“Once I projected my voice, you immediately began searching your surroundings attempting to comprehend the current state of affairs. Simultaneously, you remained vigilant as you endeavored to organize your thoughts, huh?”
“Who are you?”
If all I could hear was a voice, it seemed my best option was to attempt to communicate with it.
“If I said I was a god, would you believe me?”
“Absolutely not.”
Does this voice have a screw loose?
“That is quite unfortunate.”
“Well, I will now transport you to a REALLY good parallel world. I should mention, it is a one way trip so you will not be able to return to your original world.”
“Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!”
What kind of nonsense is this thing spewing so nonchalantly?!
“In regards to what you will be tasked to do, you should ask the one who is in charge of that place when you arrive.
“With that now explained, I am sorry but I need you to sign off on this.”
“Like hell I’m going to do that!”
As I anticipated, my voice became violent. I mean, It’s a given! it’s obvious! Who would just accept this situation like that?!
“Oh? You don’t want to? That’s weird... I was told you would be going.”
The voice seemed troubled.
There’s a limit to jokes! I have in absolutely no way, heard about this beforehand!
“I’m not lying! I haven’t been told a thing about this! Okay? Moreover, what kind of idiot would just willingly accept the concept of another world?! The fact that we’re even talking about this is just plain weird!”
I attempted to explain my side of the story with all my available might.
“Huh, it seems as if it truly was not you. I apologize, I seem to have made a mistake.”
I breath a sigh of relief.
“I appreciate your apology, but are you going to bring me back home?!”
I still have yet to return to my original tone of voice.
My current tone may not be threatening, but it’s definitely not polite either.
I mean, who’s going to blame me? This is a completely ridiculous situation. It’s definitely not my fault.
“Of course I will.”
That’s what the voice said.
With that, I breathe another sigh of relief.
I’m so glad. It’s a ‘voice’ that can be reasoned with.
Usually, in a standard template scenario like this, this is the part where the voice would say ‘I’m sorry’, ‘it’s impossible’, or ‘oh well, try your best’ and would simply toss you out to fend for yourself.
Maybe you’d even be given the guy who tells you ‘You’re already dead’ and, without hearing any complaints, throws you out to fend for yourself in another world.
That’s what I thought would happen but...
I’m saved ~
“Well, I am extremely sorry… if that is truly the case, then as an alternative it must be either your younger or older sister.”
I retract everything I just said. This guy just said something that can’t be passed off as a joke.
It said it in a nonchalant way, but those were words I absolutely cannot let slip by.
“Hey... could you repeat yourself one more time?”
“Hm? If you are not the one to be chosen, that means one of your sisters must be. ”
“Don’t give me that shit!”
“If you touch my sisters, I’ll make sure you live to regret it!”
They’re out there, living their own lives to the fullest!
There’s no way they’d be able to just accept this situation!
The audacity! Without even an ounce of care in its voice, this thing says it’ll just whisk one of the two away!
Don’t mess with me!
“For the sake of confirming, you are indeed the Misumi family’s eldest son, Misumi Makoto-kun, correct?”
Why does it know my name?
“The kids of the Misumi household should have already been told of this matter. At least, that is what I was told. Is this not correct?”
The voice seemed even more troubled now then it did before.
I was a bit surprised by this. Although it kidnapped me out of nowhere, it still tried its best to respect my will.
Everything being considered…
“Well, for the time being, could you at least tell me your name?”
That’s right. I’m still somehow managing not to fall into a complete panic, but it’s not as if I’m extremely calm either.
The best way to put it would be, I’m composed. I have to settle down a bit.
Even now, I still don’t even know the identity of the voice.
“?? Oh yeah of course, you are quite right. I apologize for not having introduced myself sooner. I am called Tsukuyomi.”
“I see, Tsukuyomi. Tsukuyomi… Tsukuyomi?!”
“Oh? Do you know of me? I see you are quite knowledgeable.”
“You don’t mean, Tsukuyomi of the three Shinto gods, do you? That Tsukuyomi no Mikoto?!”
“Oooh, yes, that would indeed be correct. Although, compared to the other two, I am nothing but a minor character.”
I mean, that’s true. Even considering that though, he’s still a big shot.
I like myths and history (though only a bit), henceforth why I know of him.
If what the voice is saying is true, then he is quite the character.
“Why is it that the Tsukuyomi-sama knows of me?”
Let’s begin with the thing I understand the least. I don’t understand why I was chosen to travel to another world.
“…”
“I see, you really don’t know anything. Alright, I will tell you.”
Everything I was told from that point on, I honestly couldn’t get a grasp on it.
I was in a pretty fortunate position compared to those who are suddenly called to another world, get lost, or get reincarnated—or at least that’s what I had thought.
Prologue 2: The farewell gift is a secret
To summarize what Tsukuyomi-sama said to me, it goes something like this.
The reason for the transportation and procedure had all been explained to me.
Basically, my parents themselves were originally residents of this aforementioned other world.
When I was young, I was told that my grandparents had already died and that we didn’t have connections with any of our other relatives but… to think that this was the reason why.
In order to come to our current world, for one reason or another, they made an agreement with the god of that other world.
That’s what seems to have triggered my current situation.
That’s to say, the condition the god gave them was ‘one day, I will take that which is most important from you’.
Is that guy the devil?!
It seems my parents agreed to that condition.
Now that I think about it all three children of my family (myself include) were taught how to do domestic chores, as well as made to learn some sort of martial art.
To think that that was preparation for this of all things! All for the purpose of possibly being shipped off to another world at any time!
No no no, don’t joke around. My parents never told me anything about another world!
Well, to be fair, even if they had told me, I’d probably look at them as if they were a bunch of crazy people.
My father is a writer that specializes in making fantasy novels that are oddly realistic and hold a lot of presence.
Though, to think that that was because he had actually experienced the real thing is a little mind boggling.
In one of his works, he intricately detailed the flavors of a dragon steak, and the comforts of sleeping in a stable, both of which were especially moving moments.
The world that I’m going to now is that same magic filled fantasy world.
It seems that I’m going to be sent to that world with power that surpasses that of my peers. Due to various reasons, the people that are transferred over from my world are all incredibly strong.
In a sense, it’ll be as if I’ve been released from extremely heavy clothing.
It’s not like I’ll be given immortality though, so I can still suffer fatal wounds. At least, I’ve been warned of such.
Judging by what Tsukuyomi-sama has said, it seems that even just living in my world is a feat in and of itself.
Not only is there practically no magical power, the Gods’ divine protection can barely reach anyone there. It’s a harsh world in comparison to others. That’s the kind of place I’ve been living in up until now, at least, according to Tsukuyomi-sama.
Even though all I’ve done is live my life normally...
How convenient for me.
“I’m extremely sorry for shouting at you. It seems you’ve also had it rough Tsukuyomi-sama.” (Makoto)
Moreover, thinking about the hardships Tsukuyomi-sama must have faced due to being the middle child nestled between the two extraordinary beings that are his elder sister and younger brother...
I felt a flood of emotions when considering his situation. Even now, when he simply tried to do his job, he was shouted at by a person he barely knows.
He’s definitely had it rough so far.
“Well, well, to think your understanding of my own circumstance would be so intricate! How long has it been since I have felt such a blissful feeling? Though, if we are to talk about having it rough, Makoto-dono has it plenty rough himself.” (Tsukuyomi)
To think he even understands my feelings of being the only man wedged in between two sisters! I never thought the day would come, when somebody could sympathize with me so!
Now that I’ve been enlightened to his greatness, if there was ever a Tsukuyomi Mikoto religion, I’d enter it in a heart beat!
Hooray Tsukuyomi-sama!
“Nonetheless, my sisters and I have lived a normal life up until now. We’re way too late in the game to suddenly be told we’ve essentially been living in a wasteland all our lives.” (Makoto)
“Out of all the other worlds out there, yours is certainly the harshest. In the eyes of an otherworlder, it would be like live in the depths of the ocean or living in a sea of lava.” (Tsukuyomi)
“On a separate note, she really is taking her time.” (Tsukuyomi)
We’ve been waiting for the goddess of the other world to come and retrieve me but…
Considering how long she’s taking, it doesn’t seem like that goddess will be coming anytime soon.
It seems that world is a pretty popular place, inhabited by a Goddess and spirits alike.
In what way does that make it popular? I honestly have no clue.
By the way, I’ve already signed whatever it is Tsukuyomi-sama gave me. Of course, only after thoroughly reviewing the conditions and being convinced about it, okay?
After all, if I don’t go, either my older or younger sister would have to go in my place.
I’m extremely troubled by this, you know? Very troubled.
I mean, for one, I won’t be able to play games anymore. In a world where machines don’t exist, I won’t even be able to play something as simple as a mobile game!
I also have to bid farewell to all my manga and novels.
Furthermore, on my computer, there may or may not be a number of things that are 18+. If those get discovered, I have no clue how I would even begin to explain that to my family.
I’m a growing young man! It’s perfectly understandable! Right?!
That’s why I told Tsuki-sama about it, and requested the he clean it up in a covert manner so that my family wouldn’t notice.
This might not come off very well, but aside from my family, I honestly could care less if anyone else knows about it.
Now that I have been cornered, I understand just how tiny I truly am. Though, that’s how I really feel.
However, that isn’t any good.
That’s why I decided to stop being so self-centered. How do I say it? I’m honestly surprised at how much I prioritize myself!
Although, I still wanted to do something about my dark history.
While he did say I can’t return…
If my family who I won’t be able to see again, if they find the materials linked to my inner man…
“I can’t believe our kid had these kinds of hobbies!”(Makoto’s father)
“Even if he’s our child, how unrefined of him!”(Makoto’s mother)
“Onii-chan*, you’re disgusting!” (Makoto’s younger sister) [*Big brother]
“I can’t believe my little brother! Could it be?! Did he look at me with such a lascivious gaze as well?!”(Makoto’s older sister)
“NOOOOOOO!!! STOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!!!” (Makoto)
There’s absolutely no way I could take that! Even just imagining it is enough to make me want to kill myself!
“Do not worry young Mikoto.” (Tsukuyomi)
Tsuki-sama was different. While I was writhing due to the madness found within my heart, and was about to be engulfed by the accumulating negative feelings, he said this to me.
“Everything you have that contains contents of men’s dreams, books, and software, as well as the contents your hard drive; I will make sure to take responsibility of wiping them all from the face of the planet!” (Tsukuyomi)
Tsuki-sama said while nodding reassuringly.
He understood everything... absolutely everything about it...
He truly is a God! He truly is divine! Even if in the eyes of others, he is simply a minor character, he is definitely number one in my heart! You have become the greatest of Gods! The Chief God!
I am impressed by the fact that he knew of advanced technological devices such hard drives.
Honestly though, I’m not thinking too much about stuff like that. I’m just grateful that my potential nightmare has disappeared.
Tsuki-sama and I decided to kill time while waiting for the goddess. We talked about this and that. We talked about things such as society while drinking tea that was pulled out of who knows where.
“By the way, to my understanding in the new world I will have immense physical and magical power but…” (Makoto)
“Yes?” (Tsukuyomi)
“Will I receive something like a special ability? For example, an impenetrable barrier, the demon eye of truth, a Rose Logia, or a heavenly phase?” (Makoto)
I mean, if I have an incredible amount of magic power, there might not be any need. Even so, it’s the dream of any young man to have powers like that.
Normally, there are a lot of people that are given overpowered abilities when they arrive in another world, you know? That’s why I want it too, you know?
I mean, I guess that’s only in fiction though...
From what I’ve heard, there are demi-humans, and even beastkin so even if I’m a little abnormal I shouldn’t be discriminated against.
All that considered, it would be nice if I had one, at least that’s what I thought.
“Of course you will!” (Tsukuyomi)
“Seriously?! What kind? What kind will I get?” (Makoto)
I honestly didn’t think my request could be fulfilled~. You’ll only know if you ask, huh.
“I do not know. I am sorry, but it will be a surprise for when you arrive there. I myself can only go there once, and after that I will be incapable of communicating with you, so I am only going to give you a hint, okay?” (Tsukuyomi)
“Ooh~ I hope it’s something like a blank skill that lets you make any power you want!” (Makoto)
“Nope, that is not the case. I am sorry, but although I am divine, even I have limits imposed upon myself.” (Tsukuyomi)
“??” (Makoto)
“It is said that I am the one who governs the night and the moon, but my real attribute is quite ambiguous. In fact, it may be similar to what you speak of, a ‘blank skill’ of sorts.” (Tsukuyomi)
“That is why I will give you as much of my power as I can. Although, I do not know how it will bud, and what kind of fruit it shall bare. It may even become something you do not desire. For that, I am sorry.” (Tsukuyomi)
Having said that, Tsuki-sama beckons me to come closer.
Following his instructions, I sat beside him. He then placed his hand on me.
I felt something beginning to flow into me. That something went through my spine and then began to circulate throughout my whole body. It then went around to my chest, and began to gather there. Finally it calmed itself.
Is this the blessing he said he would give me?
“I feel something accumulating withing me. Is this what you would call the point of origin?” (Makoto)
“That’s right, you learn fast.”(Tsukuyomi)
“There should be no problems with the perception of your surroundings. When you imagine yourself letting the power out, it should active.” (Tsukuyomi)
“The feeling of releasing the power in the palm of your hands is probably the easiest to understand.” (Tsukuyomi)
“I should mention, it is currently impossible. This place is still technically located in your original world after all.” (Tsukuyomi)
I wanted to give it a try, but Tsuki-sama stopped me while laughing.
“This may be slightly tangential, Makoto-dono, but I should mention even if it is stated in your contract, the goddess of the other world should similarly give you an ability of some sort.
You will be abandoning your current world, of not particularly your own volition, so giving you side-benefits is of course a given.” (Tsukuyomi)
Once again, Tsuki-sama bows his head with an apologetic expression.
“No way, Tsukuyomi-sama! I am nothing but grateful to you. Maybe, just maybe, if I had been sent away without any explanation after rejecting you, and then, the next day, one of my sisters were to disappear, I would’ve regretted it for the rest of my life.” (Makoto)
“Makoto-dono is truly kind… it seems she has finally come.” (Tsukuyomi)
“Finally, huh. We’ve been talking for quite a while. No, more like her tardiness allowed us to do so.” (Makoto)
“You know, if you wanted, I could record all our conversations in a dream pillow. Is this really enough for you?” (Tsukuyomi)
In Tsuki-sama’s hand, there were two letters.
When I asked Tsuki-sama if I could leave anything behind for my family, he gave me a lot of different ways to give them a message in a heartbroken manner. In the end, I decided to go with letters. One was addressed to my parents, and the other to my sisters.
My parents, having come from there, would understand if I told them about the other world, but using that kind of explanation for my sisters would be hard. Therefore, I made two of them. I’ll let my parents decide whether or not to tell my sisters the truth of the matter.
Conversely, I asked if it was possible for me to take anything with me. In response, I was told that he could make some accommodations for it.
I chose various books and writing utensils (ball-pens and mechanical pencils were a no go, so I had to make due with a pencil). I wanted to bring a bit of food too, but for some reason I was denied that privilege as well. There’s are probably numerous laws for the management of worlds. I assume in this case, the preservation of what’s already there, huh.
“Yes, I don’t mind- huh?!” (Makoto)
My body is going transparent? I double checked just to be sure, but half my body has gone transparent?!
“What?! She plans to take you away without even giving me any notice?! What is she thinking, that stupid woman!” (Tsukuyomi)
Tsuki-sama was also panicking. It wasn’t like I was going to die though. I was just being taken away after all, so I felt a bit relieved.
“Makoto-dono, I am sorry! The Goddess that you are about to meet, is quite problematic and troublesome character. It is a given if you are unable to hide your displeasure. But, if you can find it somewhere in your heart, please, overlook her actions.” (Tsukuyomi)
Tsuki-sama is a wise person. He’s probably come into contact with a good number of people in his lifetime.
I smiled while nodding.
I was able to harden my resolve to travel to another world thanks to him, and he managed to make me accept the situation I was given. He chatted with me and helped calm myself.
Those were the words he gave me as I departed, the words from that Tsukuyomi Mikoto.
Even if the Goddess I’m about to meet in this parallel world has a troublesome personality, I will do my best to accept her for Tsukuyomi-sama’s sake.

As darkened clouds loomed overhead, lightning tore through the sky, illuminating the dark forest with a brilliant burst of light. The crackling energy split the heavens, casting jagged veins of illumination across the landscape. The resounding BOOM that followed reverberated through the air, shaking the very foundation of Cornelia's cozy cabin. Inside, she reclined in her plush chair, enveloped in its welcoming embrace. A soft, crackling warmth emanated from the fireplace, casting a gentle glow that bathed the room in a comforting radiance. She sighed contentedly, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the walls, as if they were performers in a mesmerizing show.
"A good sign, isn't that right, Wendy?" Cornelia whispered, her voice a delicate murmur filled with reassurance and affection.
“Wendy wike wain,” said Wendy, with her lustrous ebony-colored fluff, nestled against Cornelia's stomach, her presence a velvety touch against her skin. The room filled with a soft, contented humming as Wendy expressed her happiness.
Cornelia smiled as her pale fingers traced gentle paths along Wendy's back, their movements a tender caress. Her gaze drifted to the window, where nature orchestrated a symphony of raindrops cascading against the glass. Each droplet carried its own rhythm, harmonizing with the crackling fire to create a symphony of soothing melodies.
As Cornelia admired Wendy, a sense of curiosity began to blossom within her. Were there other fluffies out there with the same unique hue? Elves and wealthy humans often boasted vibrant and diverse-colored fluffies in their care, while the "street-rat" fluffies that roamed alleyways possessed more muted variations. Yet, Wendy's fur was a rarity—pure black that held an air of mystique.
Whispers had spread among the villages, snaking through ears and fuelling imaginations. Tales, distorted and embellished, spoke of a sinister pact between Cornelia and the Demon Vlae. In their twisted narratives, the villagers claimed that the evil spirit-lord resided within Wendy, bestowing upon her the cloak of inky blackness.
Cornelia knew these rumours to be falsehoods, mere figments of overactive imaginations, but that did little to quell the villagers' misguided intentions. Not wanting the villagers to burn her at the stake, Cornelia made a deliberate choice to slip away into the embrace of the ancient woods. There, among the towering sentinels of bark and the rustling tapestry of fallen leaves, she sought solace and a life of peace with Wendy.
Just as Cornelia and Wendy began to settle into a tranquil nap, an insistent knocking on the cabin door shattered the serene atmosphere. The abrupt interruption stirred them from their drowsy state, pulling them back into the realm of uncertainty and peril.
Ygor knocked on the door with the force of a strong but controlled thunder. The heavy wooden door swung open by itself, revealing a flaming shadow with crimson eyes that glare into his very soul.
“You do not disturb a witch’s nap you...” scowled Cornelia but she paused upon seeing a sad yet familiar ogre standing before her.
In the ogre's hands, cradled gently like a fragile treasure, was an injured blue fluffy curled up into a ball. The fluffy's delicate hooves pressed against her belly as she whimpered in pain, her soft cries filling the air with a heart-wrenching melody. The scent of fear and desperation clung to her, mingling with the damp earthiness that permeated the cabin.
Cornelia's piercing gaze softened, her eyes lingering on the wounded blue fluffy nestled in Ygor's hands. The dancing flames of the crackling fireplace painted shifting shadows on her face, accentuating the genuine concern etched across her soft features.
“Ygor?” asked Cornelia, her voice a gentle murmur that wrapped around the room.
“Ygor need help, widdle fluffy hurt” replied Ygor, his voice filled with a mix of deep worry and desperation.
"Bring her inside," Cornelia replied, stepping aside and waited for the giant ogre to enter her home. "Don't worry, the cabin is bigger on the inside," she reassured him, her words imbued with a touch of enchantment.
Ygor carefully stepped into the cabin, his massive form casting long shadows against the sturdy wooden walls. Inside, he found himself awestruck by the magic in the cabin. The air is alive with ethereal energy, a tangible testament to Cornelia's formidable abilities.
With deliberate grace, Ygor approached Cornelia, his every movement infused with cautious tenderness. The crackling flames of the fireplace cast a soft, golden glow that danced and flickered, creating a mesmerizing play of light and shadows across the room.
Cornelia placed a soft, crimson blanket on the smooth surface of the wooden table, its vibrant hue contrasting against the rustic backdrop of the cabin. Cornelia's voice resonated with warmth and reassurance as she spoke; her words carrying the echoes of countless months spent mastering witchcraft.
"It's one of the first spells I had to learn as a witch, so don't worry about trying to fit in," Cornelia assured Ygor, her tone comforting like a soft caress.
"Now, tell me what happened," Cornelia gently prompted, her voice a melodic invitation to share their burdens.
Her empathetic eyes fixed upon Ygor and the poor fluffy, eagerly awaiting their tale of woe. The fire crackled and the raindrops tapped against the window, forming a soothing symphony that seemed to draw the elements closer, eager to listen and offer solace.
“Ygor fed fwuffy raw meat, now fwuffy tummy hurts,” Ygor explained.
“wed’ meat? Fwuffies nu’ eat wed’ meat” Wendy exclaimed, her eyes widened with fear and confusion.
“Put her on the table!” Cornelia's command sliced through the air, her voice resonating with authority as she directed Ygor to carefully place the injured fluffy on the plush red blanket that adorned the sturdy wooden table.
With eager determination, Wendy scurried towards Cornelia. The little fluffy snatched a flask from a nearby shelf. The green liquid concocted from the nearby river and the roots of an ancient tree glowed inside the flask. The aromatic scent of the potion wafted through the air, mingling with the comforting aroma of burning wood. Ygor's sensitive nose caught a hint of bones in the fragrance, causing him to raise an eyebrow in curiosity.
“Ygor smell bones” said Ygor upon picking up a strange scent coming from the flask.
"It's just the potion, Ygor. You can sit near the bookshelf; I'll handle this," reassured Cornelia as she guided Ygor to a seat beside the collection of well-worn tomes. His heavy footsteps resonated against the wooden floor, creating a gentle vibration that shook the nearby furniture.
Meanwhile, Wendy, her ebony-colored fluff rustling with each hurried step, made her way to the kitchen. The soft tapping of her little legs echoed through the cabin, the sound blending with the crackling fire and the rhythmic pitter-patter of rain against the window. Guided by Cornelia's request, Wendy retrieved a bowl of ash and garlic, their distinct scents mingling in the air, creating a heady mixture of earthiness and protection.
Cornelia's hands moved with practiced precision, like a knife gliding through the cloves of garlic as if guided by an invisible force. With each expert stroke, the pungent aroma of freshly cut garlic permeated the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the wooden table.
Once the garlic lay in neat, small pieces, Cornelia turned her attention to the bowl. She poured the green liquid into its depths, a shimmering cascade that glimmered like emerald flames. As the liquid settled, Cornelia's voice hummed with an incantation, her words carrying the weight of ancient knowledge and power.
In an instant, a flicker of green fire sprang to life, dancing atop the surface of the liquid. Its ethereal glow cast a surreal illumination, transforming the ordinary bowl into a vessel of enchantment. Shadows flickered and played upon the cabin walls, as if the very room had become a stage for magic itself.
Ygor's gaze locked onto Blue, his eyes filled with concern as he witnessed her unconscious. Despite her silent state, his sensitive ears detected faint, almost imperceptible whimpering that tugged at his heartstrings.
In a mesmerizing display of magic, a radiant golden light took the form of Cornelia's hand, delicately reaching towards the green flame. As her hand made contact, a breathtaking transformation ensued. The liquid within the bowl seemed to defy gravity, soaring out of its confines with graceful fluidity. It floated in the air, suspended like a glistening bubble, casting an iridescent glow that bathed the cabin in a surreal radiance.
The floating liquid became a canvas for the dancing and shimmering golden light, which traced intricate patterns written in the runes of magic. With every subtle movement and shift, the elixir responded, guided by Cornelia's hand, as if it were alive. The soft, ethereal hum resonated through the cabin, its gentle vibrations filling the air and contributing to the enchanting atmosphere that enveloped the space.
Ygor's eyes widened in awe as he witnessed this captivating spectacle, his senses fully immersed in the enchantment unfolding before him. The delicate scent of the potion wafted through the air, an intoxicating blend of natural ingredients and mystical energies. It mingled with the comforting aroma of burning firewood, creating an olfactory tapestry that enveloped the room.
“Wemembeh’ jus’ one dwop o’ fwuffy fwend goes fowebah sweepies” Wendy reminded, her voice filled with caution and trepidation. The anticipation was palpable, causing her little legs to tremble with a mixture of anxiety and hope.
“I know, Wendy” Cornelia replied with concern. Slowly, with delicate precision, she reached out and began removing the intricately carved magic runes that encircled the floating bubble. Each rune dislodged weakened the magic, and the room seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.
As the runes dissipated one by one, a single drop from the shimmering green bubble fell into Blue's mouth, like a droplet of life itself. In that fleeting moment, the magic took hold, invigorating her senses and drawing her back from the abyss of unconsciousness. Blue's eyes fluttered open, her vision initially blurry as she adjusted to the renewed world around her. Gradually, the fog lifted, revealing the figure of another fluffy sitting in front of her, a woman with a mysterious allure, half of her face veiled by a cascade of hair, and Ygor, the gentle ogre.
Blue wakes up, her vision blurry at first. When they cleared, she saw another fluffy sitting in front of her, a strange woman with half her face covered by her hair, and Ygor.
"Mommeh?" Blue's voice trembled with a mixture of longing and confusion, seeking comfort in the familiarity of a mother's embrace.
"No, sorry," Cornelia replied gently, her voice carrying a touch of sympathy. With great care, she cradled Blue in her hands, providing a sense of security and protection.
The cabin enveloped them in a cocoon of warmth and safety, shielding them from the world's uncertainties.
"Let's give you a bath before I return you to Ygor, is that okay?" Cornelia offered, her words laced with kindness and concern. Blue nodded, a silent agreement to the caring gesture that awaited her.
As Cornelia cradled Blue in her arms, Ygor's curious gaze wandered to the bookshelf, where a plush velvet tome caught his attention. With a gentle touch, he retrieved the book, feeling the smoothness of the fabric beneath his fingertips. Opening it, Ygor's eyes widened at the sight of a meticulously drawn map, its intricate details beckoning him into a world he’s never seen before.
His gaze shifted to the strange numbers inscribed alongside the map, written in elegant script that danced across the aged parchment. Ygor traced the lines and deciphered the enigmatic message contained within.
"Two... tw-twenty-six degrees, twelve minutes, and forty-four seconds, N—No- no- north," Ygor read aloud, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity.
Cornelia emerged from the bath, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden floor, carrying Blue wrapped in a clean towel. Drops of water glistened upon her skin like scattered diamonds, reflecting the warm glow of the cabin's hearth. She approached Ygor, her presence radiating a sense of wisdom and familiarity.
"It seems you've improved since the last time I met you," Cornelia remarked, her voice carrying a tone of admiration.
The scent of lavender lingered in the air, intermingling with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed tea.
“Ygor been reading lots lately, collected many books” Ygor proudly proclaimed. The room resonated with the gentle rustling of pages, as each one whispered a tale of knowledge and discovery.
Gently placing Blue on the floor, Cornelia watched with fondness as the little fluffy’s hooves create a delicate patter against the wooden surface as she scurried towards Ygor. She nuzzled against his massive leg, seeking solace and comfort. A warm smile graced Cornelia's lips.
"That's truly admirable," Cornelia remarked, her voice carrying a gentle cadence. The crackling fire painted flickering shadows upon the walls, enveloping the space in a comforting embrace. The scent of smoldering logs mingled with the sweet fragrance of wildflowers, creating an enchanting symphony for the senses.
“Until the ‘metal people’ burnt them along with Ygor house” Ygor replied, his voice echoed with a touch of sorrow. The weight of his words hung in the air, mingling with the flickering shadows cast by the crackling flames.
"The metal people," Cornelia mused, her thoughts drifting to the relentless knights of The King. The weight of their armored presence pressed upon her mind, like a looming storm cloud on the horizon. The memory of their arrival, their steel-clad boots treading upon the sacred grounds of the Old World, sent shivers down her spine. Their presence had brought upheaval, disrupting the delicate balance of harmony and magic that once thrived.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Cornelia said, her voice laced with sincerity. "You can stay here as long as you need," she assured, her words offering solace and a sense of belonging amidst the uncertainty of the outside world.
“Thank you, Ygor will find new home soon,” Ygor replied. “By the way, Ygor find black fluffy interesting, never seen one before,” he remarked, pointing towards Wendy.
Cornelia followed his gaze, her eyes tracing the ebony contours of Wendy's fur. The contrast of darkness against light evoked a sense of curiosity and wonder.
“I saw her in an alley a couple of months ago while I was gathering ingredients,” Cornelia recalled as she adjusted her favorite chair, drawing it closer to Ygor's seat. Blue and Wendy sat side by side, their eyes filled with anticipation as they listen to the story Cornelia is about to tell.
Clad in a worn cloak that concealed her features, Cornelia blended seamlessly into the bustling village crowd. The fabric whispered with every movement, a soft rustle against her skin as she navigated the narrow streets. The air was alive with the aroma of freshly baked bread, mingling with the scent of spices wafting from market stalls.
After procuring a bundle of garlic from the local market, the distinct scent of its earthy essence enveloped Cornelia's senses. Its pungency mingled with the vibrant tapestry of smells, drawing her further into the heart of the village. With purposeful steps, she made her way through the labyrinthine streets, seeking the hidden corners where the secrets of her craft could be uncovered.
The alleyway she ventured into concealed itself in shadow, an intimate sanctuary away from prying eyes. She brushed her finger against the rough brick walls as she walked deeper into the alley. Carefully, she extracted small glass jars from her satchel, their delicate clinks echoing in the stillness of the alley. Each jar captured the essence of a captured lizard, their gentle rustling and soft scales brushing against the glass as they adjusted to their temporary confines. Cornelia observed the ethereal dance of light on their vibrant scales, the sight creating a mesmerizing spectacle that seemed to hint at the creatures' otherworldly origins.
As her task neared completion, a hushed whimpering caught Cornelia's acute hearing, piercing through the ambient sounds of the alley. The muffled cries stirred her curiosity and compassion, grounding her in the present moment. The echoes of distress resonated with a palpable weight, urging her to investigate further. With a mixture of anticipation and concern, she followed the trail of whimpering, guided by an invisible thread that led her deeper into the shadows of the alleyway.
“Ugwy babbeh, momma gib’ fowebah sweepies!!!” scowled a fat, ugly fluffy with a distinct rhotacism, muted pink fur, and a stained green mane. Its harsh yet infant-like voice reverberated off the soot-covered walls, creating a dissonant symphony in the alley.
Cornelia's voice cut through the air like a whip cracking, her words carrying an authority that resonated with power and determination.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, street-rat!" she scowled back, her tone laced with both indignation and warning. An ethereal light, emanating from her cloak, bathed the alley in a soft, otherworldly glow, casting long, dancing shadows upon the cracked pavement.
"Smawty mommah beautiful! no gwiv biwth to ugwy babbeh!" the street-rat scowled again with its distinctive speech impediment. The creature turned to face Cornelia, its initial anger giving way to shock as its beady eyes widened in disbelief. The glow from Cornelia's cloak seemed to hold the street-rat captive, its mesmerizing radiance momentarily erasing the malice etched across its grotesque features.
“Hooman?” asked the street-rat, its voice trembling with a hint of hope amidst the chaos of its existence.
"Yes, a human," Cornelia affirmed, her tone firm yet laced with empathy.
The alley seemed to shrink around them, the dilapidated brick walls closing in as the tension mounted.
The street-rat's eyes widened with desperation, and in a flurry of movement, it scurried towards Cornelia, collapsing before her in a pitiful display of submission. Dust billowed around them, filling the air with a gritty haze, while the distant echo of passing footsteps underscored the urgency of their encounter.
“Nice wady, pweese take fwuffy wivh yu!” The street-rat's cries echoed through the desolate alley, its once-malicious tone transformed into a pitiful plea. Its snout nuzzled against Cornelia's leg, a feeble attempt at seeking solace and salvation.
“Fwuffy nu wan’ stay wivh ugwy babbehs!!!” the street-rat begged, its snout nuzzled against Cornelia's leg, a feeble attempt at seeking solace and salvation.
Cornelia, her heart heavy with the weight of the street-rat's anguish, carefully stepped over the pathetic creature, making her way toward the vulnerable baby lying at the end of the alley. Drawing closer, a chilling tableau of horror assaulted her senses. The metallic tang of blood hung in the air, intermingling with the sickly stench of decay. Before her eyes lay a grim testament to the darkest depths of despair. Foals with muted and stained bloodstained fur, their dull hues tainted with their own intestines, bore the scars of a brutal struggle. Bite marks marred their tender flesh, evidence of cannibalistic desperation, while trampled bodies bore witness to the unforgiving nature of this forsaken place.
As Cornelia knelt down to retrieve the fluffy, the air hung heavy with anticipation. The scent of damp concrete and decaying refuse mingled with the disgusting tang of blood, creating an atmosphere of unease. The dim light of the alleyway cast long, haunting shadows that danced along the walls.
But as Cornelia's hand closed around the trembling infant fluffy, a sudden, searing pain shot through her senses. A sharp SNAP echoed through the air, accompanied by the sickening sound of teeth sinking into flesh. Cornelia's cry of agony reverberated off the surrounding buildings, its raw intensity tinged with shock and disbelief.
The pink-furred mother street rat's jaws remained stubbornly clenched, its grip unyielding. Cornelia's vision blurred with tears, her vision shortly distorted by the excruciating pain. With a swift, instinctive motion, fueled by a mix of agony and surprise, Cornelia swung her injured hand in a wild arc, flinging the fluffy across the alley.
“What the?” Cornelia cried out. She has never encountered a fluffy that bites. Let alone, one that bites this hard. She swings her hand and threw the fluffy across the alley.
“MEANIE WADY! WHY TAKE UGWY BABBEH?” the street-rat's shrill voice pierced the air, its cries echoing like the wails of a frustrated toddler. The sound reverberated through the narrow passage, carrying a mix of confusion, anger, and sorrow. It blended with the backdrop of distant traffic, creating a dissonant symphony of chaos and distress.
“TAKE MUMMAH! KIWW UGWY BABBEH!” The street-rat frantically stomped the ground in uncontrolled rage. “nu wan’ meanie wady to take vewy ugwy babbeh!!!” the street-rat charged towards the witch.
As Cornelia clasped the fragile baby in her trembling hand, determination coursed through her veins, lending a renewed strength to her stance. The musty odor of the alleyway saturated the air with a pungent reminder of the harsh realities of this grim world.
But before she could fully process the unfolding situation, a searing pain shot through her leg like a lightning bolt. The sensation was akin to the piercing bite of a thousand needles, laced with the unmistakable pressure of a sharp object. Cornelia's scream reverberated through the alley, carrying her anguish and shock to the distant corners of the forgotten cityscape.
The street-rat's unicorn horn, a menacing weapon honed by the merciless streets, impaled Cornelia's left leg. The relentless strength behind the attack sent a blur of conflicting sensations—a symphony of pain, desperation, and disbelief —piercing through her body like shattered glass.
In the midst of her suffering, Cornelia became acutely aware of the grim reality that governed this alleyway. The countless deaths and constant struggle for survival had forged these street-rats into formidable adversaries. Their resilience and innate strength were evident in their very existence. It was a harsh lesson learned in an instant—the living street-rats were much stronger than one could ever anticipate.
As she fought to maintain her footing, Cornelia's vision swayed with a mixture of pain-induced dizziness and the swirling chaos of the alley. The scent of blood intermingled with the dank aroma of decay, enveloping her senses in a suffocating haze. The gritty texture of the alley's uneven pavement seemed to press against her fingertips, grounding her amidst the tumultuous storm of emotions.
Despite the excruciating torment and the formidable foe embedded in her leg, Cornelia clung to her resolve. With unwavering determination, she focused on protecting the fragile life in her arms, steeling herself for the challenges that lay ahead. The relentless struggle for survival in this unforgiving world had etched itself into her very being, and she was prepared to face its darkest truths head-on.
“Fwuffy stuck!!!” cried the street-rat, her voice trembling with desperation as she attempted to dislodge herself from Cornelia's lower leg. The sharp pain intensified, searing through Cornelia's flesh, eliciting a guttural cry of agony that reverberated through the alley.
In that moment, Cornelia's instincts kicked in, and with a surge of raw magical power, she conjured a blast wave of energy that pulsed through the air. The crackling energy engulfed the street-rat, propelling her forcefully into a nearby brick wall. The impact shattered the ancient masonry, and the street-rat lay there, her body bloodied and broken, her ability to move forever stolen.
“Fwuffy can’t move, hewp!” the street-rat whimpered, her words garbled and distorted by her injuries. The alleyway seemed to echo with her pain and despair.
Cornelia turned to leave the scene, a mix of relief and sorrow weighing upon her heart. But before she could vanish into the shadows, her eyes met the wide-eyed gaze of a villager who had witnessed her extraordinary display of magic. The villager's features contorted with shock, and his trembling voice pierced the air like a thunderclap, “Witch!”
“Witch!” The word reverberated through the alley, igniting a cacophony of shouts and gasps from the onlookers who had rushed to the scene. Their voices swirled with a mix of fear, awe, and accusation, intertwining with the faint scent of damp stone and the distant hum of city life.
Sensing the mounting danger, Cornelia slipped away, melding into the shadows like a ghost. All that remained was the street-rat, now broken and vulnerable, desperately calling out, her voice strained and pleading, “Nu take baby, nu take baby, pwease…”
“Fwuffy not know stweet-wats can make hoomans go ouchies” said Blue, her voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Her tiny hooves tapped softly on the wooden floor as he shifted in place, The air hung heavy with the scent of burning candles, casting a warm glow upon the room and bathing the scene in a gentle, flickering light..
“The alleyways are so full of death and destruction, only the strongest and most psychotic survive. I feel bad for them” replied Cornelia.
“Is like ogre life too, ogre warriors no longer live in peaceful lands, ogre fight to survive to ‘nother day” said Ygor, his voice, deep and resonant, bore the weight of sorrow.
The crackling fire in the hearth popped and hissed, casting shadows upon the walls, their movements mirroring the flickering emotions of the conversation.
“Well, we don’t have to face that depression anymore… Anyways, let’s eat!” Cornelia offered reassurance, her voice filled with conviction and a sense of determination.
The room seemed to come alive with the aroma of freshly prepared food; as if the very essence of the cast spell carried a tantalizing scent that made the Wendy and Blue’s mouths water. The tables gracefully glided towards them, their wooden legs creaking softly, while the dishes floated gently through the air, releasing a symphony of inviting aromas.
“I cooked meals using a spell the moment you and your fluffy arrived,” said Cornelia, her voice carrying a hint of pride. The room was filled with the tantalizing aromas of the freshly cooked meal. The scents of herbs, spices, and cooked ingredients mingled together in a mouth-watering symphony, infusing the air with the essence of culinary delight.
Ygor's gaze shifted to Cornelia, a newfound admiration gleaming in his eyes. Candlelight filled the room with a warm glow, casting a soft illumination on the scene, while the crackling fire in the hearth provided a comforting backdrop of pops and crackles paired with dancing shadows.
Cornelia's ability to cast multiple spells simultaneously was a testament to her skill and proficiency. Ygor could not help but be impressed by her effortless command over magic. There was a grace and elegance in her gestures, as if the very air around her responded to her every command. Despite the intricacy and complexity of the spells she had cast, there was no trace of fatigue or weariness on Cornelia's face. Her energy remained vibrant and radiant, her eyes sparkling with a sense of fulfilment and contentment. It was as if the act of magic itself invigorated her, filling her with a renewed sense of purpose.
Ygor's massive hand gripped the turkey leg, the savory aroma of roasted meat wafting up to his nose, mingling with the tantalizing scent of herbs and spices.
Amidst the anticipation, Cornelia, Wendy, and Blue bowed their heads in prayer, their hushed voices forming a gentle harmony that resonated through the room. The flickering candlelight cast an ethereal ambiance. The fragrant scent of burning candles intertwined with the aroma of the freshly cooked meal, infusing the air with a sense of reverence and gratitude.
Ygor paused, a deep respect shining in his eyes, as he respectfully placed the turkey leg back onto the plate. The flickering flames illuminated the scene, their golden glow casting a warm and comforting light. The air seemed to hum with a sacred energy, as if the very essence of their gratitude and prayers permeated every corner of the room.
“We pray before meals, we can now eat!” said Cornelia told Ygor when she finished praying.
“For ogres, pray and eating is same thing” replied Ygor.
“I remember,” Cornelia replied.
A touch of nostalgia as memories flooded Cornelia’s mind. She recalled the time spent among the ogres, their solemn devotion to the act of eating. Contrary to human myths, they were meticulous and mindful, making no mess as they communed with their god, Grunferth.
Cornelia delicately lifted a morsel from her plate, savoring the anticipation of the first bite. As she brought the food to her lips, a symphony of sensory delights unfolded within her. The succulent meat yielded to her teeth, releasing a burst of flavors that danced upon her palate. The crisp sound of Ygor's powerful jaws joining the feast resonated alongside the collective enjoyment, harmonizing with the heightened aroma of the meal that enveloped the space in a tantalizing embrace.
As Ygor took the final bite of his turkey leg, his ears pricked up, attuned to the faint but distinct sounds that drifted through the air. The cacophony of rolling wood, stone, and metal reached his senses, causing him to instinctively turn his gaze towards the window, his curiosity piqued.
"What did you hear?" Wendy inquired, her innocent eyes reflecting a touch of confusion.
But before Ygor could respond… KABOOM!!!
An earth-shattering explosion tore through the air, violently rending the walls asunder. The debris-filled chaos revealed a seething mass of enraged villagers, their figures cloaked in heavy rain and darkness. Riding at the forefront were armored knights, their steeds thundering beneath them. Amidst their ranks stood an ominous contraption, an immense rifle-cannon affixed to a sturdy bipod, wisps of smoke curling from its barrel.
The air crackled with a blend of fear and anticipation. The scent of burning gunpowder mingled with the acrid tang of destruction, permeating the atmosphere. Shadows loomed and flickered upon the shattered walls, cast by the flickering torches held by the angry mob.
"Load the slug!" bellowed the commanding voice of the knight leader, his words reverberating through the air like a thunderous declaration of imminent danger. Ygor's heart skipped a beat as the weight of the knight's authority bore down on him, sending a shiver down his spine.
With a sense of urgency, two knights swiftly inserted a sharp metal slag, gleaming like a wicked fang, into the massive barrel of the punt-gun. The weighty clink of metal meeting metal reverberated through the air, accompanied by the subtle hiss of their breaths as they worked diligently. Meanwhile, another knight meticulously poured an entire jar of gunpowder into the giant gun-cannon’s bulky breech, the grains cascading with a soft rustle that hinted imminent danger.
As the thick smoke cleared, the cracked force field revealed Cornelia standing tall, her arm aglow with a radiant aura as she valiantly upheld the shield. The scent of tainted ozone intermingled with the acrid aroma of spent gunpowder, lingering as a testament to the clash of magical forces and weaponry.
"Step out, monster!" the commander's voice boomed, cutting through the tense silence like a thunderclap. "Or you and your friends will taste the fury of two pounds of pure lead, forged stronger than your vile witchcraft!"
Cornelia's brows furrowed in bewilderment. "How did they find us?" she whispered, her voice laced with concern.
"Big, stupid ogres leave big, stupid footsteps!" the knight spat out a response filled with contempt and disdain. His words rang out, a venomous taunt that intensified the looming threat. "That buckshot was only a warning! Now step out, or face the consequences!"
Blue and Wendy, their tiny frames quivering with fear, sought solace behind Cornelia and Ygor, their small hooves instinctively covering their fragile, fluffy heads. Whimpers of trepidation escaped their trembling lips, mingling with the heavy air, adding an undercurrent of vulnerability.
Ygor, his massive form radiating determination, stepped forward, his footsteps reverberating like an earthquake that sent waves of terror rippling through the hearts of the villagers. The ground seemed to tremble beneath him, spreading whispers of fear and uncertainty among those who watched.
“What are you doing?” Cornelia asked, her voice laced with concern and near-panic, questioned Ygor's decision, desperately seeking to understand his intentions in the face of such imminent danger.
“Go find safety! Ygor fight them alone” Ygor proclaimed, his words laced with unwavering bravery.
“Ygow… Bwoo nu wike scawy guns… don’t go” Blue's voice trembled with fear, her eyes pleading for him to reconsider.
Ygor voice softened as he knelt down to her level, his words filled with reassurance. “Ygor had to… must stand up for the little ones… Ygor be strong fo’ Blue” he whispered, his voice a gentle balm amid the chaos.
With a final glance at Cornelia and the trembling foals, Ygor stepped forward, his determination carving a path through the looming danger. The weight of his responsibility settled upon his broad shoulders as he braced himself to confront the impending threat.
Cornelia's eyes locked with Wendy's, a silent understanding passing between them. In that moment, a flicker of determination ignited in Cornelia's gaze, mirroring the resolute nod of the black-fluffed creature. The air crackled with a mix of tension and anticipation, as if the very atmosphere held its breath.
"Bwoo, come wivh Wendy!" Wendy's voice carried a sense of urgency, beckoning Blue to seek refuge deeper within the safety of the cabin. The faint sound of hurried hoof-taps echoed through the wooden floor as the foals scurried away, seeking solace from the impending confrontation.
Cornelia's voice rang out with unwavering conviction, cutting through the charged air. "You don't have to fight alone," she declared, her words infused with a steadfast resolve.
Ygor's eyes stared into Cornelia's, seeking reassurance amidst the mounting peril. His broad shoulders squared with determination as he posed his question, concern etched in his voice. "Are the widdle ones safe?"
A fleeting moment of relief passed over Cornelia's features as she met Ygor's gaze. "Yes," she replied, her voice a steadying anchor in the midst of chaos.
“Last chance monster! My patience has ended!!!” The commander’s final warning reverberated through the air, a surge of adrenaline coursed through Ygor's veins. With each heavy footfall, the commander's armor resonated, the clinking sound echoing the weight of the impending clash. The ground itself seemed to tremble, mirroring the intensity that hung heavy in the air.
With one last determined glance back at Cornelia, Ygor stepped forward, his footsteps leaving an indelible impression upon the soil, each stride a testament to his bravery and the impending struggle that awaited.
"You've made a grave mistake, knight..." Cornelia's voice reverberated with seething rage, her words slicing through the tense air like a sharpened blade.
“We’re not leaving without your corpses, monsters!!!” bellowed the commander, his voice laced with venomous determination.
“I’m a forest witch, and you have entered my domain… LEAVE. MY. HOME!!!” Cornelia demanded as her eyes glowed with magic rage. The air crackled with an electric energy, a palpable tension that hung heavy amidst the looming clash of opposing forces.
The commander's signal sliced through the charged stormy atmosphere, setting the massive punt-gun's sights squarely on Ygor, while the villagers tightened their grips on their spears, preparing for the impending clash., while the villagers tightened their grips on their spears, ready for the impending assault.
SWISH!!!
A floating bubble of shimmering green liquid burst forth from the depths of the cabin, hurtling towards the commander with astonishing speed. The commander's reflexes kicked in, evading the peculiar water just moments before it could make contact.
SPLASH!!!
The strange substance that once healed Blue drenched the gunner’s hapless body. Anguished screams tore through the air, echoing with torment and despair, as the gunner’s flesh withered and decayed, leaving behind a grotesque skeletal figure that sent shivers of terror coursing through the hearts of the villagers. The unsettling transformation gripped them. The sight of this macabre spectacle fueled their fear and deepened their animosity, fanning the flames of their hatred towards the forest witch and her allies.
A momentary hush settled upon the battleground, shattered by the commander's malevolent grin. From the depths of the forest, more guns emerged, revealing a hidden arsenal of lethal force.
“Did you seriously think we only brought one gun?” The commander sneered, his words laced with derision and arrogance.
Yet, Ygor and Cornelia stood firm, their resolve unyielding amidst the encroaching danger. With a single swift gesture, the commander's hand unleashed a swift resounding gesture that sliced through misty powder-laced air.
“FIRE!!!”

Oh my God was this list hard to rank 😅 I took about I would say at least 15 hours of my time into this and all of that was just to rank them at a certain level without much to say. First off we have about 8 Tiers from F,D,C,B,A,S,SS, and Premium though I barely put much into their. Remember this is just an opinion so don't take too harshly if your favorite episode isn't high on my list. For some episodes I may not say much or anything since this was too long originally.
F Tier, these are my least favorite episodes and most likely I have a vendetta against them in some way that made it hard for me to like them

1. S2 Ep 8 Nebraska- I hate Lori and I think this episode expresses it, most definitely a vendetta. I didn't exactly like the stuff with Hershel and recovering though it was okay, but lori made some questionable decisions to go off on her own to look for Rick even though she should know he's fine seriously. She wrecks a car and then barely dies from a walker, mind you she is pregnant and shouldn't do these things easily my least favorite episode.
   
2. S10 Ep 21 Diverged- I honestly forget this episode so much since it has nothing truly interesting or important to the story
   
3. S7 Ep 6 Swear- this episode feels slow paced and dull due to oceanside being not seen well for me and I feel like Tara put on the best performance she could for it.
   
4. S8 Ep 2 The Damned- this episode to me was just a lot of action and in the walking dead I don't want that. We see a couple of characters die (including Francine 🪦 I absolutely loved her character and hate how she died here :[ mindless) Erics death started here, but it just wasn't impactful enough.
   
5. S3 Ep 11 I Ain't a Judas- Andrea is a boring character in the show and I hate her in this episode. The focus should've been on the prison honestly and maybe If she killed the Governor I would've understood her more.
   
6. S10 Ep 20 Splinter- if most of the episode was real I would've loved it, but they weren't...
   
7. S3 Ep 5 Say the Word- Andrea just isnt much good in this episode and Rick going crazy wasn't a fun idea to me.
   
8. S8 Ep 3 Monsters- aside from the one fight with Rick I really didn't care much for it again for the fighting and having Morales return and die felt out of place.
   
9. S2 Ep 2 Bloodletting- the group searching for Sophia was okay for a concept, but this episode was okay and went slow paced for me until the end.
   

D Tier, moving on these episodes were for me mostly just forgettable or boring so I won't say much except they weren't all bad

1. S1 Ep 3 Tell it to the frogs- first off S1 won't be all high because I'm ranking EVERY episode, but this one felt slow in pace more as well compared to the last two. Shane was a badass though.
   
2. S11 Ep 3 Hunted- Forgettable... Not much to say.
   
3. S5 Ep 11 The Distance- Forgot entirely this was an episode, after rewatch still don't like it except for Aaron.
   
4. S2 Ep 9 Trigger finger- It was a bit better than Nebraska, mostly cause of the Randel scenes.
   
5. S7 Ep 14 The Other Side- Sasha somewhat makes a noble decision.
   

163-162. S11 Episodes 22 following 21- 22 had the Warden being uninteresting as a villain and 21 was boring as can be which is why they sit besides each other.

1. S8 Ep 7 Time for After- I don't like the plans they have to deviate from Rick and him going to Jadis again feels like a horrible decision on his part.
   
2. S9 Ep 8 Evolution- The ambience is the best part, though I hated Jesus' s death as it felt like a bad sendoff.
   

C Tier, These are a bunch of boring and hard to follow episodes that have some highs that keep it out of former tiers.

1. S2 Ep 1 What lies Ahead- I liked the RV scene with Andrea, but what follows is dull.
   
2. S11 Ep 4- The pope is somewhat average.
   
3. S7 Ep 12 Say Yes- The carnival was a nice scenery for TWD, but they had too many fake outs with the walker "shooting" at them and the deer fake out.
   
4. S9 Ep 7 Stradivarius- The Search for Eugene feels tiring to follow what's happening and I ended up watching the episodes once and never again because of it.
   
5. S2 Ep 4 Cherokee Rose- Watching the episode is fun because of the well, though I feel like it was stupid as an idea as the group should have more common sense before doing something dumb.
   
6. S2 Ep 3 Save The Last One- Shane was horrifying, but the rest was dull.
   
7. S8 Ep 14 Still gotta mean something- Rick felt unnecessarly cold hearted in this episode killing off the Saviors that helped him which I didn't like, though Jared got a well deserved death.
   
8. S4 Ep 9 After -It was okay watching Carl try to scavenge while Rick was injured and I liked the scene with his shoe being lost.
   
9. S7 Ep 5 Go Getters- the episode itself wasn't bad yet I never really enjoyed it too much aside from Maggie being a badass and the ending was pretty good.
   
10. S4 Ep 10 Inamtes- Inmates was a pretty well rounded episodes showing off some of the group which I liked seeing Tyreese the most.
    
11. S8 Ep 6 The King, The Widow, and Rick- the episode was pretty lackluster for me and I didn't really appeal to seeing the garbage people much in this or everyone going to attack the saviors which was a dumb move to do. Ezekiel was probably the most fun of the episode.
    
12. S3 Ep 16 Welcome to the Tombs- the finale for season 3 has always been horrible as it barely gives tension between the Governor and Ricks group, it just felt unfitting for a finale.
    
13. S11 Ep 8 For blood- it was a okay Mid Season finale to say the least (sorry, 1/3 season finale). I did like some of the parts in it with Maggie which is why it sits higher than others.
    
14. S5 Ep 7 Crossed- I thoroughly enjoyed the chase scene between the three officers and Ricks group, but that was about it.
    
15. S4 Ep 13 Alone- I liked watching the parts of the group split up, except for Maggie, Bob, and Sasha as they felt very uneventful to me. What makes this episode better had to be the part about Daryl and Beth with the ending of the introduction to Joe's group.
    
16. S7 Ep 10 New Best Friends- a lot of these parts I forgot about in this episode when it came to the Kingdom though after rewatching it I enjoyed those parts more than the Garbage people. I just honestly think Jadis's group is uninteresting and makes for no substance.
    
17. S10 Ep 15 The Tower- I sometimes forget about this episode and it's premise with Beta, but I think it holds up enough for a weird one and The stuff with princess was okay.
    
18. S9 Ep 3 Warning signs- I think the episode was okay, I just didn't like Season 9 A that much...
    

B tier, now we get to the episodes I could watch again in the past 6 months or binge through without skipping

1. S11 Ep 2 Acheron Part 2- this was close to being put into C tier since I really hated some parts about it like how they left Gage to die and still had to fight off dozens of walking regardless. The group in the first two episodes seem to switch off and on from good to bad.
   
2. S7 Ep 4 Service- for some reason people hate this episode and I can't see why except for the fact it mainly deals with Negan at Alexandria; in my opinion it was him and a couple other characters who saved season 7 and 8 for me.
   
3. S10 Ep 3 Ghosts- I forget the episode...
   
4. S10 Ep 7 Open Your Eyes- I thought the episode was fine as I don't hate Siddiq and all, though I liked and hated the ending as I loved the twist of Dante and hated that Siddiq had to die so early on.
   
5. S6 Ep 7 Heads Up- I didn't like the twist of Glenn and all, but I liked the suspicion with Carol and Morgan as well as the Ending being dramatic.
   
6. S8 Ep 11 Dead or Alive- it's not good to know when you remember an episode due to bad things. Daryl has been making more off decisions for the character and Tara seems to be completely Reckless now making me hate her moving forward.
   
7. S4 Ep 4 Indifference- The Scenes with Carol and Rick we're amusing with crude Humour as well as some more tense scenes in my opinion and I hated/liked when Rick told Carol she couldn't come back.
   
8. S3 Ep 6 Hounded- honestly I would've rather put this episode a little bit higher due to Merle (probably my favorite charcater which contributes to a lot of episodes being higher) being a badass while fighting Michonne and pulling out puns as well. The reason it doesn't get higher is still due to Rick and the phone situation being uneventful.
   
9. S11 Ep 9 No Other Way- Alden dies in this episode which I should've seen coming that sucks. The ending feels misleading a bit though everything else in the middle is pretty great.
   
10. S11 Ep 5 Out of the Ashes- literally the only reason I put this here was due to Lance so deal with it!
    
11. S4 Ep 11 Claimed- Rick had a pretty solid pair of scenes with the Claimers and I liked watching Glenn and Tara (Surprisingly).
    
12. S10 Ep 13 What We Become- I thought the flashbacks/hallucinations we're pretty good, but aside from that this episode was just mediocre.
    
13. S9 Ep 4 The Obliged- I liked watching Daryl and Rick fight each other over different views on how everything should be and the ending I thought was pretty suspenseful as well as the saviors and oceanside.
    
14. S11 Ep 15 Trust- Lance feels exactly like the Governor in some of these episodes which is what I like about him, and from here I start to enjoy Princess maybe because Mercer is around more xd.
    
15. S10 Ep 17 Home Sweet Home- I thought Maggie was a good enough concept for an episode with the reapers, though it didn't hit that hard watching again. It still Is most definitely better than the other 3 episodes of S10 part C but enough for A Tier.
    

A Tier, after this point complaints may start to stop, but that doesn't mean entirely. These episodes I enjoy watching over and over again with some good tension and comedy as well.

1. S1 Ep 5 Wildfire- For the episodes Jim was in I liked him and learning his backstory as well so this was a pretty fun episode.
   
2. S4 Ep 15 Us- the stuff with Abraham and their group was pretty wholesome to me and I liked Joe for the time being in here seeing how he is pretty fair to be honest giving things where they are due and trust to Daryl.
   
3. S6 Ep 11 Knots Untie- I somewhat feel like the episode drags due to there being too much at hilltop, but it is a new community so I can't truly argue. I remember enjoyably when Rick stopped the assassination attempt.
   
4. S8 Ep 9 Honor- the beginning with Carl I thought was good to showcase the events that unfolded before the decimation and Carl's death hit hard.
   
5. S5 Ep 4 Slabtown- I personally don't mind the hospital arc too much, yet it won't get all of it's episodes too high of course. I liked watching Noah and Beth converse and I thought this was a new era for the walking dead.
   
6. 10 Ep 1 Lines we Cross- the part with the Satellite was amusing to watch as it was a big change to see and I like that about the walking dead on occasions.
   
7. S9 Ep 6 Who are you now?- I liked learning of Luke's Group (you heard me, Luke's Group) and what they have been like learning of some of their past.
   
8. S10 Ep 8 The World Before- I liked mostly just watching two scenes, the beginning with Dante and Gabriel and Dante. I loved the fact no one even considered a Whisperer living amongst them and how he did some much devious stuff was mind boggling and amazing to watch. When Gabriel talks about forgiveness to Dante and kills him shows me how Gabriel has changed the past seasons.
   
9. S7 Ep 9 Rock in the Road- Rick gives off a good speech to Ezekiel and I liked seeing him and Morgan reunite again. The stuff with Gabriel wasn't too bad either.
   
10. S3 Ep 9 The Suicide King- the Governor finally seems to be starting to let things of him slip which I love to see. I also enjoyed watching Merle with Daryl as well too.
    
11. S11 Ep 11 Rouge element- I thought that the twist of Steph was pretty good and I don't mind the episode being a bit long and tedious for it's reveal.
    
12. S11 Ep 23 Family- I loved the fact Lydia got bit just because it shows us that people can still get bit and survive. It shows to me that in the finale no one could be truly safe even though Luke gets bit and still dies.
    
13. S11 Ep 17 Lockdown- Saving Sebastian was okay ig.
    
14. S8 Ep 10 The Lost and The Plunderers- Simon's character I think was made perfectly as he is a hotheaded person who is all about power and showing that off. Killing most of the Garbage people was terrifying to watch and showed how Negan could be more merciful than others.
    
15. S1 Ep 1 Days Gone Bye- I think for the pilot it did it's job well and showed off enough of what the show could be. Of course this doesn't mean it was all good but as pilots go it was pretty solid.
    
16. S11 Ep 1 Acheron Part 1- The only reason I put it this high was for the interrogation scenes especially when it came down to Ezekiel. Him and Mercer are honestly a great pair and I love his ending to the show as it's fitting.
    
17. S5 Ep 10 Them- after losing most of the group it seems like a fitting episode of despair and plays it perfectly.
    
18. S5 Ep 12 Remember- the first shown scenes of Alexandria was pretty good and I liked the interviews scene too. We also saw a lot of new character introductions.
    
19. S11 Ep 6 On The Inside- The ferals was a nice touch of horror that I never knew I could need. Making the people with the ferals Virgil and Connie made the most perfect sense as well.
    
20. S6 Ep 13 Not Tomorrow Yet- this episode shows off how our group is seeming to be the bad guys starting to kill people in their sleep. I like how Glenn and Heath have their first kills and show how they are changing.
    
21. S7 Ep 1 The day will come when you won't be- I like the title as it references Doctor Jenner, but for the episode I liked Negan and that's mostly it. Seeing two people die was horrible to me, but necessary and since I don't rank episodes for being bad due to deaths I can still rank them high.
    
22. S6 Ep 16 Last Day on Earth- Simon has a good introduction and I like them trying to get from point A to B, but what stands out to me most is probably Abraham and Eugene with his speech about him
    
23. S7 Ep 15 Something they need- Sasha was probably the highlight of the episode for me and I liked them and Negan's interactions. It Is a good effort to show that they aren't all monsters and I like seeing Eugene as well.
    
24. S3 Ep 7 When the Dead come knocking- Glenn and his interrogation with Merle was amazing and I liked seeing Glenn's true will shine.
    
25. S8 Ep 12 The Key- I don't like this episode much honestly if it wasn't for Negan and Ricks Speech as well as Simon and his deviousness.
    
26. S8 Ep 1 Mercy- the beginning I had to move up due to some good portions of it like Rick and Negan. I also liked the ending a lot even though I watched the trailer a lot and knew of Gabriel and Negan's interactions.
    
27. S9 Ep 1 a New Beginning- wow two series beginnings next to each other... Yeah it's weird but they weren't exactly S Tier Material. The beginning with them trying to get a horse accessory was great tension to watch and I already love Ricks Beard.
    
28. S10 Ep 18 Find me- okay so maybe I exaggerated My feeling towards Season 10 C a bit since I like some of the episodes a bit and others worse. The reason I put this here is mostly good plot lines and that was it.
    

Around here I wanted to say the reason for some episodes ranking higher is due to the fact the others are horrible and some of these have redeeming qualities. It's hard to put over 150 episodes ranked from horrible to greatness and know the points of interest.

1. S3 Ep 3 Walk With Me- Merle brings joy to me seeing him again and I love him from here on out. I like how the Governor seems to be innocent enough until the big reveal with the militia which is amazingly put.
   
2. S10 Ep 9 Squeeze- I hate Squeeze... There i said it. The cave sucks honestly and Id rather not watch it again because of that, but Negan is the only saving grace for this episode and if it wasn't for him I would never watch this episode again.
   
3. S8 Ep 13 Do Not Send Us Astray- Simon attacking the Hilltop was the most great action of this season that I never minded and it felt terrifying after Tobin's fate was sealed.
   
4. S3 Ep 12 Clear- I had to move it from S Tier, but nevertheless a great episode. Morgan's return was done perfectly and I felt like his character did a full 180 after this. Michonne and Carl's side story was also good.
   
5. S2 Ep 12 Better Anglels- Shane and Ricks final confrontation was amazingly executed and loved the difference from the Comics with Rick killing shane and Carl shooting his reanimated self; Shane and Randel was also good too.
   
6. S4 Ep 12 Still- Daryl and Beth make sense to pair together and I like seeing how we get a bit more back story to his character. They feel like the most perfect example to put for a mismatched pair.
   
7. S6 Ep Thank You- The journey with Glenn's group trying to get back was amusing to see even though the dumpster ending wasnt really the best, still horrible to see.
   
8. S10 Ep 4 Silence the Whisperers- Negan and Lydia have a good bond and I like how Negan defends her even though I hate how no one believes Lydia that Negan protected her.
   
9. S8 Ep 4 Some Guy- I still love watching Ezekiel and the Kingdom so I enjoy this episode and how he feels defeated the whole time. Jerry is the best bodyguard in my opinion as well as it is shown and Shivas death is heartbreaking.
   
10. S5 Ep 8 Coda- The reason I put this soo high was due to Rick and Bob. I did like the ending a bit even though I feel like Beth's death could've been avoided.
    
11. S3 Ep 14 Prey- originally this episode was C Tier for me, but I re-watched it and put it this high due to the Governor being a literal psycho and I love this side of him.
    
12. S11 Ep 20 What's been Lost- Lance felt underutilized as soon as he died, I really wished they could've made a difference with his exit on the show.
    
13. S8 Ep 8 How it's gotta be- Forgot about Natanias death.
    
14. S11 Ep 7 Promises Broken- Negan and Maggie had a good talk together about before.
    
15. S10 Ep 6 Bonds- Okay.. XD.
    
16. S6 Ep 10 The Next world- I thought the stuff with Rick, Daryl, and Jesus was goofy, but great.
    
17. S11 Ep 19 Varient- I do like the idea of evolving walkers though I feel like it was a bit late in the show.
    
18. S3 Ep 13 Arrow on the Doorstep- the meeting was just terrific to watch as the Governor is so sinister inside it with Milton and Hershel having a good talk as well with Martinez and Daryl having a good show off time. Merle and Glenn have some good times too.
    
19. S9 Ep 2 The Bridge- The log scene was amazing and Aaron had a good scene with the amputation.
    

S Tier, These episodes are some of my favorite to watch with a good glass of Tea and some snacks.

1. S7 Ep 7 Sing me a song- Negan and Carl were fun to watch as well as some more insight on the sanctuary as Daryl breaks free. Negan and Carl also Bond.
   
2. S10 Ep 10 Stalker- Daryl VS Alpha!!!
   
3. S11 Ep 16 Acts of God- Lance is very horrifying as to what his next move is and Leah's stuff was good.
   
4. S3 Ep 8 Made to suffer- it was a great Mid season finale as I enjoyed the fight with the Governor and Rick as well as the ending with Merle and Daryl.
   
5. S2 Ep 6 Secrets- Glenn has to deal with hiding multiple people's secrets and I feel like the comedy is pure gold here.
   
6. S1 Ep 2 Guts- The rooftops scenes were great as well as the parts where they wear guys to avoid the walkers, it always felt like a sense of panic in this episode.
   
7. S9 Ep 9 Adaptation- the introduction to Alpha was simple enough and I feel like it's a good episode.
   
8. S11 Ep 10 New Haunts
   
9. S11 Ep 12 The Lucky Ones- Carol finally feels a little bit like she's back to her old self in this community with Lance and their deals.
   
10. S4 Ep 1 30 days without and Accident- probably my second favorite of the beginning episodes as it demonstrates exactly how the group has got along since the recent events. Has a good story with the shopping market and the roof caving in was awesome.
    
11. S3 Ep 10 Home- this episode shows how Merle and Daryl are far apart which I can still keep watching Merle and be entertained as well as the fight scene at the end with the Governor being cocky as can be.
    
12. S9 Ep 16 The Storm- snow is a new but simple thing that I like along with Negan Earning trust with Michonne.
    
13. S10 Ep 2 We are the End of the World- Gamma saving Alpha is one of my favorite scenes of how it shows Alphas power towards the group and influence on it's people.
    
14. S6 Ep 8 Start to Finish- The walls coming down had an interesting story as well as many like the Wolf getting loose and Diana having a badass/amazing exit.
    
15. S9 Ep 11 Bounty- The Movie Theatre scene was pretty good as well as Alpha with and Lydia.
    
16. S5 Ep 2 Strangers- The uneasy feeling of Gabriel is pretty good to show the groups trust and I like how the ending is played out with the reveals.
    
17. S11 Ep 13 Warlords- The Complex is a pretty good place to see and I like seeing the evolution of Negan and Aaron.
    
18. S9 Ep 15 The Calm Before- The highlight is the end with the pikes though it made sense for the lesser characters. I hated seeing Henry and Enid die (Not with Tara).
    
19. S10 Ep 11 Morning Star- The start of the battle is ingenius with the tree sap fire scene and it makes for a suspenseful ending to the episode to come.
    
20. S9 Ep 5 What come After- The episode is meant to be a sendoff for Rick so I'll rank it about everything else instead. I did enjoy some of the sequences with Hershel and I loved seeing Shane again. He really puts perspective on some episodes like Season 5 which makes me enjoy watching those episodes more as well as Shane. Ricks exit was also done is a pretty good way.
    
21. S7 Ep 13 Bury me Here- I liked watching Morgan slowing go back into insanity which I believe is due to PTSD of some sort. The episode feels really well done and I like the ending to it with Richard Dying and Carol being told everything.
    
22. S9 Ep 12 Guardians- Alpha is great to watch in this episode and the way she kills the two whispering who challenge them is great!
    
23. S8 Ep 5 The Big scary U- the main focus is Negan and Gabriel which is an amazing talk between then two before settling their differences. I also like the unease at the sanctuary through betrayal.
    
24. S11 Ep 14 The Rotten core- the whole episode is one of If not my personal favorite to watch for the complex alone being a nice setting. I enjoy every bit of this episode as well as the side deal with Sebastian and how Mercer is revealed to be a pretty nice guy.
    
25. S5 Ep 15 Try- The whole episode feels like a decent into madness for Rick seeing everyone against him. I like how he goes into protective cop mode and try to defend the ones he lives as well as his speech at the end.
    
26. S11 Ep 18 A New Deal- The whole episode is average, but the ending just feels amazing to rewatch.
    
27. S2 Ep 11 Judge, Jury, Executioner- I personally like Dale a lot so I love this episode. It really shows how the group is starting to turn as they believe to do what is best for the group and not morals. Dales death is also very heartfelt to watch and showed off the walkers dangerousness.
    
28. S10 Ep 14 Look At The Flowers- Negan and Daryl make a good pair to watch though I enjoyed watching Beta and him struggling to get back on track after Alphas death and I love him so much more for this episode.
    
29. S5 Ep 5 Self Help- Daryl and Carol at the moments have some good episodes together so it's not surprise I'd love this episode. With Noah in the episode as well it feels like a amazing show of how the characters (Carol and Daryl) have changed morally.
    
30. S6 Ep 13 The Same Boat- Carol has been shown to be ruthless, but this episode shows her true colors as how she doesn't want this to be her life anymore.
    
31. S5 Ep 13 Forget- the episode itself has many great minisodes it felt like which was fantastic.
    

50 and 49. S4 Ep 6 Live Bait and 7 Dead Weight- I put these both here due to the fact of me loving the equally. The 6th episode feels like a showcase of how the Governor gets broken entirely and starts to get built back up positively showing what could have been and for a time it feels beautiful to me. The 7th though shows how some things can mess with his mind and make him go back to being a psychopath that kills everyone he sees.

1. S8 Ep 16 Wraith- The ending to season 8 was pretty eventful for the battles begin as Eugene saved everyone's asses from a cool trick with the bullets. I am happy that Rick decided to save Negan and I love the episode except for the ending being off-putting with Maggie.
   
2. S6 Ep 9 No way Out- The Wolf has a pretty interesting end that I enjoyed to see and aside from the the entire eoisode is the best part. You never feel that sense of boring to it as the action is nonstop great.
   
3. S5 Ep 5 Now- I liked small bits and pieces of this episode mostly revolving around Diana and her role starting to change. If she survived I don't doubt I would've loved to see her go through more of an arc.
   
4. S7 Ep 11 Hostiles and Calamities- I can see the hate for this episode, though I love it myself. Eugene in my opinion is at his best here and I love watching him here with Negan and their interactions. It was also great how Dwight had framed the doctor.
   
5. S5 Ep 6 Consumed- Abraham was one of my favorite characters not just for jokes but for this episode. His backstory is heartbreaking to learn about and relatable. When he falls down after beating Eugene in defeat I can feel his pain with him.
   
6. S9 Ep 13 Chokepoint- Daryl VS Beta!!!
   

SS Tier, after this point there is no bad things that the episodes could have drag it's down. These ones are my person favorites.
Around this time I also realized that it seems my numbers on the side aren't matching so I'm fixing it from here so skip 42- 38. Idk what happened but I messed up somewhere and went to fix it but couldn't find the problem.

1. S2 Ep 13 Besides the Dying Fire- The walkers attacking the farm was a great scene just as much as the Democracy speech was from Rick, though Lori is horrible to Rick in this episode. Also Rick tells the group "we're all infected"
   
2. S4 Ep 2 Infected- I love the scene where Patrick reanimates and the morning fight they have in the prison. So much stuff happens at once. The ending was Great with Tyreese and. The pig scene was sad to watch.
   
3. S6 Ep 6 Always Accountable- One time when I like Sasha is this episode with Abraham. Where to begin; The Rocket launcher scene was great, Abraham is great with quips, Daryl with Dwight is a good scene and I love the ending as well.
   
4. S6 Ep 14 Twice as Far- The Denise speech wasnt too bad and the death was great. I enjoyed Abraham and Eugene; I think my favorite scenes was with Abraham and Eugene with another one of his speechs towards him which was funny and heartfelt.
   
5. S4 Ep 16 A- The best part is when Joe's group comes along and how Rick bites out his throat signifying that he and Shane are now alike. I also like when Rick and Daryl talk as well as Rick figuring out this olace kidnaps people.
   
6. S2 Ep 7 Pretty Much dead Already- Shane is what I love about this episode, he and Dale had a really funny encounter and I feel like Shane makes me laugh and be serious at the same time with each scenes. I also like how Rick is more accepting towards Hershel.
   
7. S10 Ep 16 A Certain Doom- Beta was good in this episode and had some great parts, but the fights wee great especially the scene with the Music. Betas death felt odd, but that doesn't lower the episode.
   
8. S4 Ep 14 The Grove- I mean do I really have to explain? Carol is a savage here and I love when they finally talk about Karen and Davids death here. Nothing in this episode is a low note.
   
9. S2 Ep 5 Chupacabra- I love everything about Daryl's scenes in this that show how he is a badass and capable of holding his own. Also love his Hallucinations.
   
10. S11 Ep 24 Rest In Peace- certainly wasn't the best finale, but I felt like it did well enough for the episode. It tied up most loose ends for the show given its runtime and I feel like it is fitting enough.
    
11. S2 Ep 10 18 Miles Out- my favorite of Season 2 has Shane and Rick have the best battle I have seen even more than The Governor and Rick or Negan and Rick. This battle utilizes both of their strengths and weaknesses with some things that have never been done in the show much more like using your blood to attract walkers to other places. It was an amazing episode all in all.
    
12. S1 Ep 6 TS-19- idk what it is but I love watching this episode over and over again and I love it the more I watch it. It is probably because I like Doctor Jenner a bit more in each watching of his tragic backstory with his wife.
    
13. S9 Ep 14 Scars- The flahsback was an amazing one that told us something vital to the story about how they don't trust people coming in anymore. What Daryl and especially Michonne went through is tragic.
    
14. S5 Ep 3 Four Walls a roof- this episode is perfect for a number of reasons like Bob and his antics or Savage Rick, this was a turning point for the walking dead and this is where Rick gets some of his roots.
    
15. S1 Ep 4 Vatos- even though I love TS-19 I love Vatos more. This is unique to some episodes where you see a group just like Ricks that is trying to survive and this is where we realize the world is bigger than we thought still.
    
16. S7 Ep 16 The first day of the rest of your Life- The battle was amazing and I feel like this was the best it was going to get for the coming seasons, but season 9 and 10 surprised me.
    
17. S10 Ep 5 What it always Is- Negan with the Kid is the highlight I think, I could've honestly seen this going farther, if it wasn't for the former savior. I feel like this was fitting for an entire episode of, but we diverged a bit.
    
18. S4 Ep 3 Isolation- Hershel and Tyreese are the highlights for me with Tyreese going berserk and Hershel being a kind soul. This is a staple episode for why Season 4 is amazing and why Hershel is what made season 4 great.
    
19. S6 Ep 4 Here's not Here- I love learning about Eastman and Morgan in this one off. I love how it is somewhat told in the first person narrative to the Wolf and how Morgan changed back to who he was. Eastman shows how he and Morgan are pretty similar and why he should be like him.
    
20. S5 Ep 14 Spend- aside from Francine being here to be used as eye candy for me I loved how some of Alexandria like and dislike rick's group here. I do hate Noah dying as I feel like he could've been so much more.
    
21. S10 19 One More- I love havng the episode based on Aaron and Gabriel as they have came a long way since their beginnings. When they have few an encounter with Mays I felt like this was a testimony to who they are as people. We see how they care for each other and how Mays fails to make a point of who they are until Gabriel Kills him showing he has gone farther away from the light.
    
22. S7 Ep 3 Cell- Daryl is locked up and he is now being treated like shit. This episode feels great cause of how it feels like he is trying to break Daryl. Dwight also has a great mission on how he mercy kills a savior and shows he isn't as bad as you may think.
    
23. S6 Ep 1 First time again- I do enjoy the setting of the episode how we see the diverge in Alexandria and who listens or hears Rick out. The episode is a great example for staring episodes... But not the best at it.
    
24. S5 Ep 9 What Happened and what's going On- I loved Tyreese's character so to see him die was horrible for me. His episodes I feel like was a good send off since it is a test to who he is as a person who is confounded about the world around him.
    
25. S3 Ep 4 Killer Within- this episode was played perfectly and I feel like is a good sendoff for other characters as well like how I hate Lori. She is made just a bit better from her sacrifice and thought T-Dog went out in a good way as well. The prisoners also had a good show for their trust.
    
26. S4 Ep 5 Interment- this is where Hershel's best episode is as he is the best Samaritan Alive in the apocalypse. At the end where Rick and Carl fend off the walkers inside the gates in a great bond and I love the whole episode.
    
27. S6 Ep 3 JSS- it is well rounded and has good action as well as a lot of tension and suspense with Carol showing off her capabilities and Morgan with his philosophy.
    

Finally we cracked the top ten and into Premium Episodes. If you've made it this far you are are persistent as me... Well probably less since this took a long ass time but still. These are the episodes whee I cherish them and can watch more than once a month.

1. S8 Ep 15 Worth- Worth has what I want in an episode; good characters and story/plot. Eugene's parts are made more important seeing how he needed to stay at the sanctuary to save Alexandria and the other communities. I loved even more Dwight's part where I have without doubt the most suspense with him and Negan. Simon also had the most best arc death as it felt complete.
   
2. S5 Ep 16 Conquer- the episode has a lot of action and the ending was the pivet. I love the speech he has and how Diana let's Rick be in charge now was a sort of cliffhanging ending that signify's perfection.
   
3. S5 Ep 1 No sanctuary- both Season 5's beginning and finale are amazing and the way Rick and his group take down Terminus in one episode is amazing as they fight there way out and the scene with Judith was great. Morgan was just a sprinkle of wholesomeness to see.
   
4. S10 Ep 12 Walk With Us- The Episode had just enough action, good deaths and character interactions to make it here. First of the battle at hilltop was amazing. The second best thing was Earl and I feel very sad every time I watch this episode at his part. Then the best thing is the end with Alpha and Negan.
   
5. S3 Ep 1 Seed- The best beginning to a season it shows how the group has changed since Rick and the prison is a great example. The tombs are a great scenery and the ending was perfect for a cliffhanger as well as Conquer.
   
6. S3 Ep 2 Sick- the prisoner episode was pretty good to watch as a group of prisoners try to take on walkers. While some are good others would rather be assertive. Rick has definitely changed since season 2 and the group is played great here and much more human like.
   
7. S7 Ep 2 Well- what helps this episode is the last episode before it having a dark tone. This instead has a more uplifting one with the king and with Carol and Morgan being a great pair. The Kingdom seems to be a good community and seeing how Carol tries to smooth talk the king and how he tells whays her bullshit is an amazing scene.
   
8. S10 Ep 22 Heres Negan- We realize he was a kinda lousy husband that wasn't really too good to becoming a really supportive husband who cares deeply for his wife Lucille. The story before showed a lot of Negan and how he is and I love Lucille as a character from this episode trying to do whats best for Negan.
   
9. S4 Ep 8 Too Far gone- Honestly this IS the best episode, but I am bias so I had to put my own personal favorite above it not to say this isn't right behind it easily. Too far gone is what feels like a season finale but isn't. The Governors first encounter should've been this and I'm glad we got to see it unfold great. Rick has a great speech in it about not being too far gone yet and the Governor killing Hershel to start the best battle of the series. The Governors death feels fitting and the ending was sad and amazing.
   

Before I get to this last one I wanted to say a thank you in advance to whomever reads this as I really had a hard time making this and spending a lot of time to do this isn't easy. And remember this last episode is my very own person opinion entirely and in no way is it the best of the series definitively, without any furthermore, lets end this.

1. Season 3 Episode 15 This Sorrowful Life- Now what makes this episode so great to me? Well I'm totally biased towards the actor and the character in the show Merle Dixon. I could watch Merle all day which is what they episode feels like with the perfect duo of Michonne and Merle on their way to the governor. It has some of the most perfect comedy in the episode as well as having the best sacrifice redemption arc and ending. This episode made me laugh, smile, cry and more. There will never be a time when I ever change my opinion about this episode in existence.

Again another huge thanks to everyone and I hope this will satisfy everyones needs... Now I'ma go watch S3 Ep 15 Legit.

Do you ever wish that lists had a bit more accommodation for the gentleladies of your fantasy retinue? Weeeelllll step on up to your one stop shop of anything for the highborne girls!~ (Fair warning that most of this list is coming from a huge personal list of concepts that I've had for a long time, so I don't remeber any names of original creators as I never expected to share the list or anyting on it. If your concept is on here, please do contact me, please, so I can give proper credit)
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1. A hairpin adorned with an elvish love note, folded into an origami flower; you always smell nice, no matter how dirty or sweaty you are (u/ChihuahuaJedi)
2. A veil of creamy, silken fiber shorn from a unicorn’s mane, hung from a braid of cloth-of-gold.
3. Sweetpearl II: Spoilt pageant pony, a gorgeous Andalusian mare. Fears being alone, and great at making you feel guilty.
4. A delicate shawl, lacy and fringed, woven from pearly spider silk.
5. A dark blue silk mantle lined with white mink fur and embroidered in abstract silver diamond patterns at collar and hem.
6. The Ladies Who Lunch - a guild of the who's who in feminine society that have been issued a holy mandate to find the very best cheese and wine pairing. Often women in full corsets and gowns are found spelunking into forgotten country wine cellars
7. Phoenix Flan - A delectable Flan that, once halfway eaten, bursts into flames and reforms as Creme Brulee
8. Ice sapphires. Usually cut into small cubes, these are placed in cups to keep the contents cold on hot days.
9. A snow globe, and inside, there's a beautiful little pastoral town with rolling hills and pink and blue flowers. You shake it, and in a swirl of pink and blue petals, the scenery has changed to a snow-dusted town. Also goes vice versa.
10. A small jar of golden nails with flower shaped heads that can only be driven by a glass hammerhead.
11. A single brilliant blue rose petal that smells faintly of almonds, rolled up in the finest white silk handkerchief.
12. Sewing Kit. One of the needles is coated in a potent drow sleeping poison.
13. Flower bread is made from various types of powdered flowers giving it a light floral taste.
14. Heavenwurst, a sausage made of ground up Angel Wings.
15. This Drow elf matron wears expensive, white gloves woven from finest spider silk.
16. A clockwork butler. Every noble needs a servant, though people who keep as dangerous company as yourselves may need something more sturdy than an ordinary butler. For you, the king has prepared a gilded, perfectly-crafted clockwork device to give to you to help you on your journey. It can cook, it can sing, it can engage in basic conversation, it can do duck calls, it can identify mushrooms, it can make your bed, it can dust your cupboards, and everything in-between. While looking and acting like a clockwork automaton, like a man who's powered by gears and levers within himself, he has the stats of a duodrone.
17. Unicorn Horn Broth - Shimmery golden soup with a taste like a sweet honey roast, often has a small dusting of nutmeg. Has intense healing properties.
18. A Lady’s saddle, with bit and bridle included. The fixtures are in gold, studded with translucent pink garnets, the leather is of the highest quality.
19. A tiara that allows you to experience the sensory experience of a black cat as long as you wear it and close your eyes.
20. A tapestry woven from the finest silk. It depicts a king and his court having a feast in a garden. A kirin (or some other appropriate holy creature) flies across the sky in the background.
21. Fae Mouse-Dragon - Likes to viciously attack flowers and nap in the destroyed petals. Uses emotion magic on you to communicate its needs and feelings, so try to keep her happy unless you want bad vibes. She sheds her scales once a month, and they're a powerful aphrodisiac when consumed!
22. A stall of assorted crystal bowls and cups displayed with wax fruits, all of it outlandishly overpriced.
23. Unicorn Wax: Burning this wax-like substance that is found under the tongues of certain unicorns and inhaling the smoke will cause the user to experience hallucinations of a magical, bright, and colorful world for 1d12 hours, and increases wisdom by 1 for 1d6 hours.
24. A baby’s mobile bearing four silver plated doves, elegantly sculpted, with translucent blue azurite eyes, suspended from a teak frame.
25. A gold statuette carved in the likeness of a canary and is small enough to fit in a pocket.
26. Bride’s day – Commemorating the beginning of summer, all the new brides dance with the unmarried women, to imbue to them their own marital fortunes. The dance takes place in the kings courtyard and no males are allowed in. At the end the queen usually tries to set up an unwed dancer with a royal family member.
27. At a party the torches emit perfumed smoke that are enchanted as aphrodisiacs or some other effect.
28. An expensive water feature or fountain is filled with wine, it is in the shape of people and animals doing very risque things.
29. Golden Scissors - A pair of golden scissors, if you snip a thread from any clothing, however ragged, it shall transform into a magnificent suit or gown of gold thread that perfectly fits and flatters the intended wearer.
30. A large crystal decanter etched with grapes and vines with an electrum lip, handle and foot.
31. A Gentleperson's Toolset - A rather large and expensive set of tea, along with a huge and renewable stock of platinum quality tea leaves and sweets of all kinds.
32. A long, elegant quill made from a peacock. The eye in the feather seems to reflect the light, and the quill tip is masterfully crafted of mithril.
33. Heartseeker - This pair of velvet gloves allows the wearer to sense the suites of any cards it's touching.
34. A slightly worn, satin collar that fits any creature it is placed on. It's got the cutest little bell affixed to the front of it.
35. Wand of Feathery Feline Pleasures. A wand that creates a moving illusion of a feather tuft for cats to play with. Each illusion lasts about ten minutes.
36. Smellen’s Sweet-Smellin’ Snuff Case'. A box that encases the wearer's nose and prevents them from smelling anything outside of the box. Includes a tiny drawer to place a desired scent.
37. PipeDream™. A fancy looking pipe used for smoking. It can be used to blow different shapes, colors, and even bubbles.
38. Celestial salt and abyssal pepper shaker set.
39. An intricately detailed figurine posed as though singing to an audience on a balcony above her. Her eyes sparkle with tiny jewels to make it appear that she is crying
40. Cruel Queen’s Sangria - A favorite recipe of an ancient, dethroned tyrant. Her sangria is sweetened with dragon fruit, blood orange and star fruit fit for a crown.
41. A large tin canister whose lid is stamped with the image of a bountiful orchard whose trees are overflowing with fruit, the ripest of which has fallen and filled a cornucopia. The container is brimming with dozens of well-preserved dried currants.
42. A hag (or any other long nailed creature) giving visitors a scalp massage. She makes wonderful conversation and speaks fondly of her grandkids.
43. A silver hip flask engraved with drunken satyrs in various acts of foreplay with nymphs.
44. Kaleido cakes - Boldly colored cake, made of shifting geometric patterns with different flavors, but always with a moderate dusting of powdered sugar. Simply rotate the cake until the flavors change to your personal tastes, but your friends can change it too.
45. Stardust Sauvignon - A dry white wine that is traditionally served in silver cups.
46. A single small pink satin pillow. Intended for a lap cat.
47. A bright white, woman’s bonnet with a pink silk ribbon tied around the front into a delicate bow.

FYI, this is a story COLLECTION. Lots of standalones technically. So, you can basically start to read at any chapter, no pre-read of the other chapters needed technically (other than maybe getting better descriptions of characters than: Adam Vir=human, Krill=antlike alien, Sunny=tall alien, Conn=telepathic alien). The numbers are (mostly) only for organization of posts and continuity.
OC Written by Charlie Stastarrfallknightrise,
Typed up and then posted here by me.
Proofreading and language check for some chapters by u/Finbar9800
Future Lore and fact check done by me.
The title of this chapter is awesome!
Previous First [Next](link)
Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
The No 1 truth about humans: They are stupid.
Krill was waiting in the docking bay, watching as his new medical equipment was wheeled up the ramp. Sunny stood next to him, holding a data pad and checking off the shipping manifest as it was wheeled on.
Conn floated a few feet away from them, ribbons on his back billowing and churning slowly in the air currents.
He was currently occupied staring down at the screen of his handheld.
Ever since the captain had gotten him that game, he hadn't stopped playing.
It was a nice break from his usual acerbic, nosy nature.
The last line of medical equipment was being loaded up the ramp, when Conn suddenly looked up from his game. He stared into nothing for a second and then signed:
”Oh boi…”
He turned his head towards the interior doors and signed something again, which was quickly translated by his automated gloves,
"Prepare yourselves."
"Prepare ourselves? For what?"
The question didn't hang on the air for very long, before the sounds of human exuberance reached them from down the hall.
Sunny shook her head and Krill sighed, and the three of them braced themselves as the commander rolled onto deck with his heelies, skidding to a stop and running towards the line of boxes,
"Is it here!? Did you get it!?"
"Get what?"
Sunny muttered, he snatched the data pad from her hand, scrolling through the checked boxes.
"Hey! What are you-"
"Ah ha! There it is!"
He began laughing and giggling maniacally, running over to a line of already checked boxes, hopping up and down in place and rubbing his hands together.
The three aliens exchanged a worried glance. Sunny sighed,
"What did you do?”
The man waved a hand at her, as one of the cargo workers opened a box for him,
"What did I do? What did I do? I will tell you what I did! I just made this ship officially the most awesome ship in the fleet."
”Oh god I’m here long enough to know that can’t be good…”
Krill muttered, while Sunny asked:
"And how exactly did you do that?"
"I thought we were already the most awesome ship in the fleet?"
The commander was seconds from squealing with delight, as the man cracked open the crate and let the sides fall to the deck.
There were a few boxes in there, but the commander didn't seem to care about most of them, grabbing a single big box from the pile and hauling it onto the floor, where he could get a better look,
"Gah, its heavy, that's good."
Krill frowned,
"I'm not going to like this, am I?"
The commander continued to grin,
"Nope, you're gonna hate it, and that's how I know it's going to be great."
Krill sighed. Sunny stepped forward as the man frantically ripped open the box, like a man possessed.
The crate opened and the man was now laughing maniacally,
"Yes! Yes! Yes! MUHAHAHAHA!"
Krill and the others wandered over, glancing down into the box.
Conn sighed, a sound he had specifically programmed into his gloves.
Sunny tilted her head,
"What is it?”
The human reached inside, grabbed a thick, pamphlet with one hand and tossed it out of the way.
Krill was forced to duck to the side as the book went flying past his head and skidded across the floor.
He glanced over and saw the words.
JETPACK OPERATIONS MANUAL
"NO! Oh no! no! No! No! ADAM NO!”
"ADAM YES! Yes in every way!"
The commander said, tearing into the foam packaging that held the unit inside.
When he finally pulled it out, he grunted with its weight and sat back on the cold metal floor, cradling it against his knees to get a better look,
"Ah, just look at it! Look at it! Ahhhhh! Best day ever!"
"No, you send that right back to where it came from!"
Krill was saying,
"I have a hard enough time getting you to keep your feet on the ground. I will not let you do this stupid, reckless-"
Sunny picked the manual off the ground with one of her smaller hands, while the main pair of hands was crossed in disdain in front of her torso.
"Adam don't you think you should read the instructions first?”
The human was standing now and had the jetpack propped on the side of a crate, threading his arms through the upper harness.
”What part of “I can fly anything” don't you get?”
"So you've flown one before?”
"No, of course not… but how hard can it be!?”
Krill shook his head,
"Commander you will not be flying that, not unless you have full body protection, and that means a HELMET as well."
Sunny crossed her other set of arms,
"I have to agree with the doctor this time."
He glanced over at them and wilted slightly,
"Ok, Ok yes mom let me go get my knee and elbow pads."
"Full body armor or no deal."
”Buut…”
”Adam!?”
"Fine!"
He groaned but sighed, whining under his breath the whole way while running quickly out of the room.
Sunny and Krill exchanged a look,
"Should we just hide it?"
Conn floated down to sit on one of the crates,
"I kind of want to see him break his neck."
Sunny glowered over at Conn, but the freaky alien just grinned at her, his large black eyes menacing against his milky white skin.
She flipped the manual open,
"Someone at least better read this before he gets himself hurt."
"You think he’d care to know how it worked before he tries it..."
"Adam may love science fiction, but that doesn't make him a scientist. I've seen him struggle to put a pen back together after taking it apart…"
Sunny muttered, walking over to the jetpack to set it up before the commander came back.
She almost thought about just not setting it up He wouldn't get off the ground without reading the manual, but he had been so excited that she hardly had the heart to ruin this for him.
He returned a good thirty minutes later, wearing a space suit helmet tucked under one arm.
"You know what, this was actually a good idea Krill."
"It was, so you finally saw the logic of-"
"Because I just realized, if we paint this rig up, I can look like buzz lightyear. Think about it a little green, purple and white and I can be a space ranger. It will be the most epic cosplay you have ever seen.”
”…”
”And I can order more of them with the rest of the company funds to turn the marines into a squad of kick-ass Mandalorians! It’s going to be great!”
"You wasted company funds on a jetpack!?"
"Nope my money. However, if I can find a reason to requisition some, you better bet that I will, Now hand it over."
"Helmet first."
Krill said sternly. The man rolled his eyes,
"Ok fine."
He slid the helmet on, and it locked into place,
"So many possibilities guys! I could be Iron man! Or also mandalorian!"
”…”
”Note to self: find some cool A.I. like Jarvis to get the full iron man feeling.
He mumbled to himself, while Sunny once again crossed her lower set of arms over her chest, while using the other two to read the manual,
"I seem to recall that the first time Iron man tried to use his, he ended up slamming into a wall…”
The commander folded the straps on the jetpack into their place, instead using a different mechanism to attach the jetpack to the back of the space suit.
A few of the marines walked into the room, along with Doctor Katie.
"Yo is that a jetpack!?"
Called one of the marines.
"You bet your ass it is."
He turned in a circle,
”Do you guys like it?"
"Damn!"
”Dope!”
”Fricking awesome!”
Someone whistled.
"Don't encourage him!!!?"
Krill snarled.
The marines stepped back.
"Yeah yeah, whatever, ok let's get this party started."
The commander marched towards the door, and the rest of the group struggled to keep up.
Dr Katie nervously fell into step beside Krill,
"He's going to get hurt isn't he…”
"Yeah... Bring a stretcher and a C-collar would you?"
He muttered, Dr. Katie nodded and ran off.
Commander Vir stepped out onto the ramp,
"Ok... now... Uh... how do I get it to work?"
Sunny raised an eyebrow form behind the manual,
"So now you need my help? I am not entirely sure I want to tell you how to use it."
"You don't tell me I will just look up a video."
She sighed,
"It should have connected when you attached it to your suit. You can choose to use the hand controls on your gloves. So first-"
"Oh, sweet."
He pressed one of the glove controls, and there was a sharp clicking sound as the jet pack wings clicked open locking into place,
"Oh HELL YEAH! Even better! Someone get me green and white paint asap!"
"Adam calm down."
"So what does this button do?"
"Adam-"
There was a sharp whir and whine as the engine started up.
"Oh yeah!"
"Ok we are done. If you can't slow down and listen to the instructions, then we are going to have to confiscate that…"
Sunny reached forward, intending to grab him, but he danced away.
"So, If that was open, and that was start, than this must be up…”
"ADAM!?”
Sunny lunged forward, just as the human's thumb triggered the throttle.
She dived right past where he had been standing, and the human rocketed up into the air, feet and arms flailing.
"Shit! Adam!"
Krill frantically turned on his comm,
"Katie, get the medical team down here NOW!!!”
The bright streak of light passed out of sight as the engine continued to steadily rocket upwards, and for a moment it seemed as if he would at least be fine.
That was until he figured out the controls and suddenly started to spin and turn wildly his body thrown back and forth like a ragdoll.
"Shit, shit, shit."
Conn was laughing behind her,
She turned on him,
"Shut up and help."
Conn waved a hand,
"He's fine. He's having the time of his life."
Sunny turned back to look up, watching as the bright spot turned, arched downwards and began plummeting towards the ground.
He was growing bigger and bigger in their vision.
"Any second now."
Conn said,
Sunny's eyes widened in horror.
”ANY SECOND WHAT!?”
"He'll figure out how to pull up, any moment now."
They could see individual limbs again.
"Yeeeep aaaaany moment now."
The assembled humans began to scream.
”Aaaaaaaany moment…”
They all watched as he came closer and closer to the ground…
At the last moment he flung himself sideways, going parallel to the ground. He shot past them, and for a second Sunny thought she could hear screaming, though the roaring sound of the engine was too loud.
He was heading straight towards a loading crane.
He was about to hit it, when he threw himself sideways, spinning in the air, his wing almost clipping an armored vehicle.
He was thrown up and sideways, his arms pinwheeling as he arched in a parabola over the landing field.
All the humans working in the docking bay had stopped to stare upwards at the spectacle, a few had their phones out.
Sunny ran out trying to see where he had gone.
Dr. Katie rushed out onto the ramp with the medical team close behind,
"What the ever loving fuck!?"
She exclaimed,
"Why did you let him do that!?”
"I didn't think he would be THAT stupid!"
Sunny yelled back.
The bright white spot did another arch and then spun and then did a loop.
Conn floated forward,
"He thinks he's got the hang of it... Though... I have some serious questions about his ability to slow down...”
The group of them stared skyward, as he continued to roll, tumble and do loops.
"I am going to kill him."
Sunny snarled,
"If he doesn’t kill himself."
Krill sighed. Sunny glowered at him,
"Because you seem so concerned!”
"Didn't you hear? I am in a constant state of panic, like the hulk is with anger, but... Lame."
The little white dot arched towards the ground.
"Oh shit, here it comes."
Conn said covering his face – not that it would help.
Sunny, tried to look away, watching as the light dimmed, slowed.
She glanced up, watching as commander Vir descended from the sky, his hands held out awkwardly to either side, like a tightrope walker, one foot down and one foot slightly up.
He was about ten feet above the ground, when the engine suddenly cut.
Sunny yelled in surprise, the rest of the group jumped forward.
He landed fine, at first, then he stumbled forward, arms flailing, tripped and plowed face first into the concrete.
Sunny and the group ran forward to where he was lying on the pavement.
"Adam, Adam are you ok!”
It was then –to Sunny's great annoyance– that she heard the human laughing.
He rolled over onto his side and pulled off his helmet, which had small scratches across the paint of the face.
He was sweaty, red in the face, but grinning like an idiot,
"Holy shit, did you see that? THAT was awesome!
"You could have died!"
"Yeah yeah, sure whatever, but also did you SEE that!”
Sunny felt a surge of anger flare up in her chest,
"THAT IS IT!"
She reached over and slammed her finger against the release button for the jetpack.
"Hey!?"
It fell away, and she shoved it into the arms of the closest marine, without even looking who it was.
"Hide this somewhere, or throw it away, I don't care."
"Wait, Sunny, but I..."
She grabbed him angrily by the hand and hauled him to his feet, marching across the tarmac with him stumbling behind her.
He turned back to look towards the jetpack, pulling against her.
”Noo but my jetpack… Jettie I love you, please don’t go! YOU CANT STOP OUR LOVE!”
In frustration she turned, bent down and tipped him over one shoulder, pinning his legs with her two right arms.
"Sunny!? Hey!? What are you doing!?"
"I am sick and tired of your shit, Adam!"
She marched up the ramp, as the rest of the humans looked on either bemused, or amused.
"Seriously Sunny!?"
He tried to struggle, but she only adjusted his weight.
"You aren't leaving your quarters for a week!"
"You're grounding ME!?"
"Literally!"
She snarled.
"You aren't my mother!”
"Oh yeah, but I can call her."
He suddenly got silent and his eyes narrowed,
”You wouldn't dare..."
"Don't think I won't."
His face went pale,
"Look Sunny, we can talk about this. You don't have to call her. Come on you know me. I knew exactly what I was doing. Remember. Pilot. I fly stuff all the time."
"You almost died."
"Almost being the key term."
She snarled, feet slamming against the deck and she pushed through the cargo bay and out the doors, her anger heard for minutes after they were out of sight.
The rest of the humans had a good laugh over the whole thing, though Krill was not impressed, and neither was Dr. Katie.
Humans were immensely stupid, stupid and reckless. They had no sense of self preservation, and some of them seemed hell bent on dying early though they never seemed to manage it.
Unfortunately for Sunny, she had handed the jetpack to Ramirez, who now definitely planned on buying one for himself, and, as Adam's human friend, planned on keeping it safe for him until he returned.
Maybe taking it out for a spin while he was away?
Because humans are stupid like that…
Previous First [Next](link)
Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Intro post by me
OC-whole collection
Patreon of the author
Thanks for reading! As you saw in the title, this is a cross posted story written by starrfallknightrise and I'll just upload some of it here for you guys, if you are interested and want to read ahead, the original story-collection can be found on tumblr or wattpad to read for free. (link above this text under "OC:..." ) It is the Empyrean Iris story collection by starfallknightrise. Also, if you want to know more about the story collection i made an intro post about it, so feel free to check that out to see what other great characters to look forward to! (Link also above this text). I have no affiliations to the author; just thought I’d share some of the great stories you might enjoy a lot!
Obviously, I have Charlie’s permission to post this and for the people already knowing the stories, or starting to read them: If you follow the link and check out the story you will see some differences. I made some small (non-artistic) changes, mainly correcting writing mistakes, pronoun correction and some small additional info here and there of things which were not thought of/forgotten or even were added/changed in later stories (like the “USS->UNSC” prefix of Stabby, Chalar=/->Sunny etc). As well as some "biggemajor" changes in descriptions and info’s for the same stringency/continuity reason. That can be explained by the story collection being, well a story collection at the start with many standalone-stories just starring the same people, but later on it gets more to a stringent storyline with backstories and throwbacks. (For example Adam Vir has some HEAVY scars over his body, following his bones, which were not really talked about up till half the collection, where it says it covers his whole body and you find out via backflash that he had them the whole time and how he got them, they just weren't mentioned before. However, I would think a doctor would at least see these scars before that, especially since he gets analyzed, treated and goes shirtless/in T-shirts in some stories). So TLDR: Writing and some descriptions are slightly changed, with full OK from the author, since he himself did not bother to correct these things before.

Summary: Sometime ago your mentor and idol retired from the hero scene, citing that they were too old to continue on with their duties. Behind the scenes though, you and a select few were notified that your mentor had lost their reason to continue fighting. You, being closer than others, knew why; You refused to tell anyone about it, after all, maybe, just maybe you could convince your mentor to return to the thing that you knew made them happy.
Roles:
- Major:

• The Hero H: The former apprentice of the retired hero and is in their own right a renowned superhero and the legacy of their mentor.

> Scene: Apartment, home of retired mentor
[There’s a series of knocks on the door, some seconds later, the door opens]
H: (Cheery) Hey there! Shocked that it’s me again? (Pause for 3 beats) No? Well, I can’t blame ya. I’ve been in ya hair so often as of late, it would be odd for me to not show up today too; Well is there any chance that uhm I can come in? (Slightly desperate) Please?
[Multiple steps out of sync are heard, before the door creaks closed, then with a click, it is locked shut.]
H: (Relieved) Thanks for having me…okay, I may have lied; I mean, not really, maybe just a bit. However I really did come here for a social call, the extent of the whole truth is that I need a place to relax, my place is kinda packed with fans trying to see if they can get my autograph, or picture, or whatever. You know how it is with fans. I mean, I remember when I would visit your old place and you couldn’t even walk on the sidewalk, all those people trying to get a glimpse of you, it still boggles my mind. But, I know how you feel when I start talking about those days, so I won’t. (Pause for 3 beats, pensively) While we’re on the topic of the old days, there is something else I want to bring up with you…
[The hero’s sentence was cut short as a teacup and its accompanying saucer is gently placed on the wooden table]
H: Oh! Is the tea already ready? (Pause for 2 beats) What am I saying, if you were waiting for me, of course the tea is going to be ready to serve. So, thank you, for the tea, and everything else; (Pause for 2 beats, pensively) Also, if my visits get to be too much, please do let me know. Last thing I want to do is take too many of your spoons away. (Pause for 3 beats) I know, I know that you were my mentor; That doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re still human and sometimes that means that you need your own space to recover and have some, you time; I get it, I have those days too. (Pause for 3 beats) Anyways, before I continue to ramble on, I just appreciate everything you’ve done for me; As both a mentor and a friend, I can never repay you. (Pause for 3 beats) Right, sorry, didn’t mean to begin to ramble on.
[The teacup is lifted from the saucer as a sip is taken]
H: About that other thing that I wanted to talk to you about. And before you give me that face, it’s not me trying to convince you to put on your suit again; I know the boundaries you’ve set and I have no intentions of betraying your trust; Besides, I’ve already voiced my opinions on your retirement; (Pause for 3 beats) Let me stop beating around the bush, I’ve actually come to get some knowledge out of you.
[Once again the hero takes another sip of their tea]
H: Okay, if you’ve seen the news recently, I’m sure that you’re noticing that a lot of, as we call them at headquarters, Golden Age Villains are suddenly finding themselves out of retirement and back on the scene. And it just so happens that they’re doing so when half of our own Golden Age Heroes are retired, or in the process of retiring; And with them, their in-depth knowledge of those Golden Age Villains going with them as they do so. But you don’t need me to tell you this to you, I mean you’re a First International after all, the baddest of all badass hero ages. (Pause for 2 beats) Well yeah, we’ve been reviewing old combat footage and after action reports between you all and them, but, something’s changed in them, they don’t fight like they used to. (Pause for 3 beats) No, I don’t mean that they’re older and their attacks are slower, I mean that their styles have changed entirely, even how they use their abilities has as well.
[The hero takes another sip of their tea, before putting down the saucer and cup]
H: I’m talking about, uhm, (finger snap) remember Devastator!? (Pause for 2 beats) Yeah, the one with earthquake causing powers; Used them more like a sledgehammer, battles would usually end with tons in collateral damage every single time. (Pause for 2 beats) Yeah him, well, recently we had to investigate a series of jewelry store break-ins. The odd thing about them was that they all happened during an earthquake. And after an investigation, as it turns out, Devastator used the earthquake as cover to break storefront windows. But because the break ins happened during an earthquake, the police chalked it up to earthquake damage. Which made the response time a lot longer than what it should’ve been. This of course allowed our old friend to empty out the stores with plenty of time to even steal from the registers, and well it goes without saying that if the store had a safe, those were emptied out as well. Very uncharacteristic of Devastator. (Pause for 3 beats then with a bit of a laugh) Yes, he did get an outfit change. I’m not going to lie, I do like their new outfit, it’s sleek and modern, not like that dreadful Golden Age outfit; (Nervously) I mean, yeah, there’s something to be said about classic outfits, sure, but this new outfit of theirs. Ugh it’s just so much more tasteful and easy on the eyes, Devastator absolutely called a designer to make their comeback outfit, cause yes. Ramblings aside, think you can help out?
[A series of sounds from distant cars honking can be heard before they’re eventually drowned out by an airplane passing overhead]
H: The way you can help is rather easy actually. I was hoping you could tell me the names of your rogues gallery, and anything personal about them that you can recall; I’m talking about hobbies, if they had a family, who they hung out with, anything and everything. If it wouldn’t be that much of an issue, could we go over your rogues gallery before I became your sidekick first; After that, maybe we could cross reference the villains that you and I faced, that way we could also make a rough timeline of when each villain showed up to the scene, and when was the last time that they appeared in public. (Pause for 2 beats) Why? Well, there’s a debate, some say that it’s simply old dogs learning new tricks. However, there are others, like myself, who believe that perhaps they haven’t learned new tricks, but rather that they have someone else pulling their strings. Maybe mind control, or cloning, it’s difficult to give any definitive answer yet; (Pause for 2 beats) Come on now, how could you think that we wouldn’t start at the beginning, we’re combing through the Golden Age Heroes in order to see if there are any villains with the ability to mind control others, barring that, maybe there was a villain with hyper intelligence and the resources to be able to create clones on a whim. And, just like you and the old timers taught us, the best place to look for said villains would be within the groups that our lovely Golden Age Villains associated themselves with.
[The teacup makes a noise as it slightly clanks against the saucer, as it is picked up, and the last bit of the tea is sipped up]
H: (Pensively) Profiling? Mmm, I don’t think you could consider it profiling, suspicion by association absolutely. However we have to begin somewhere, and well you all pretty much hammered it into our skulls. (Pause for 3 beats, happily and excited) You’ll help?! That’s wonderful! Thanks so much! I really appreciate it! And I know the other heroes at headquarters will also appreciate it. Mind if I step outside real quick? I need to make a quick phone call.
[There’s the sound of a chair scraping against the ground, along with the steps that lead to a door; Said door opens and closes. As soon as the door closes, a phone is taken out and a phone number seems to be dialed]
H: Yeah hey! It’s me! Good news! They’ve agreed to help! Yeah! I’m going to go get as much of their rogues gallery written down as possible. Maybe if we’re lucky, it’ll also be the catalyst for getting them back into the action. I mean they’re still in good shape, and I can definitely see the spark still being there in their eyes. We just need to jump start it. And this just might be the spark to get them going. Though, we may have to help them get over the incident. (Pause for 2 beats) yes ma’am, I know ma’am, I’m aware it’s a delicate subject; I was there ma’am, so I know how hurtful it would be if I brought it up before they’re ready.
[The sound of a few people passing by can be heard, they stop for a quick second, whispering among themselves]
H: (Away from the phone) Hi, yeah, uhm sorry I’m not doing autographs or pictures right now. I’m kinda visiting an old friend of mine, and I’m also on the phone with Sunspot. (Pause for 3 beats slightly bored expression) Yes, The Sunspot. (Pause for 3 beats) Thank you for being so understanding. (Pause for 2 beats) Okay, yeah, maybe next time. (Back towards phone) Eh, don’t worry about it, just some fans, or maybe just people who have seen me in that one famous magazine I did recently. (Pause for 4 beats) Yeah that one! Well I guess the sister publication…no, not the teen version, the hero version. Yeah Hero Mania Magazine; Regardless, they were very understanding of what I was currently doing. Oh! The people I just spoke to also say hi. (Pause for 3 beats) Yeah, don’t worry, my mentor knows that I stepped out to do this call. Though I’m not going to be able to stay on the line for much longer, I’m seeing more and more eyes on me from the people passing the hallways. Yes ma’am, don’t worry, my mission priority is to get the information out of them first, then I’ll be heading to headquarters before doing anything else. Alright, I’ve got to go, bye.
[The hero hangs up their phone, then proceeds to open the door and walk back over to the chair; After closing the door.]
H: Alright, thank you so much for letting me make the call, I really appreciate it; (Pause for 3 beats) Oh, it was Sunspot, just giving her a status update on my mission, and how it’s coming along. (Pause for 4 beats) Sunspot is doing well—at least as well as someone can be after having their new position imposed onto them—(Pause for 3 beats) Yeah don’t worry, she doesn’t fault you for that, she knows the circumstances of your retirement. Sides according to her (mocking in a friendly manner) Ain’t no bemoaning what’s already happened; Only thing yah can do now is ride the horse or get off the saddle. (With a little laughter) Besides, don’t tell her I said this, but I think she likes the attention. I mean it would make sense, what with her being from a family of rodeo stars and whatnot. But uhm where were we? (Pause for 2 beats) Oh right! Your rogues gallery, give me a second to take out a pen and a notebook…and, now I’m ready to write down the info, so let me hear them all. (Pause for 3 beats, thoughtfully) Okay so there’s Plague, Gamma Vortex, and Wraith to begin with, and who would you say was the first one to show up?
[The teacup clanks against the saucer as it is once again lifted and drunk, the scene slowly fades to nothing as the last bit of the final line is spoken and softly disappears, ultimately ending the scene]
> Scene: Headquarters
[The sound of a pair of mechanical doors opening is heard, followed by the sound of some steps making their way in]
H: And according to the information that we’ve gathered, we can surmise that…(Pause for 3 beats) huh? (Pleasantly surprised) Hey! Look who’s out of the apartment!? (Pause for 3 beats then with a slight laugh) I kid, you know it’s fantastic to see you here, especially after all of these years. (Pause for 3 beats) Oh, you noticed the remodel and, well, everything. Yeah, we brought it into the modern age! Or at least according to the New Internationals we have. You know how young heroes are; You let them breakout of their sidekick roles and suddenly they think that they’re all that. Calling into question your design choices, your outfits; (Pause for 3 beats, in denial) What? Nope, what are you talking about, we were never like them. (Pause for 3 beats, still in denial) That’s an utter lie, I did not question your own outfit when I broke out. (Pause for 2 beats) Yeah, well, you don’t have any sort of evidence to back up this claim of yours, soooo, take that.
[The Hero addresses the console, after hearing that there was snickering being heard through the screen]
H: (Shocked and embarrassed) Oh gosh, I can’t believe I just did that in front of everyone. I won’t be able to live this down. Now I have to retire, change my name, and never be a superhero again. (Pause for 3 beats, then continue with some laughter) I’m kidding, let me mute myself though, I don’t want to have a hot mic incident again, and also it lets all of you on call right now to discuss among yourselves the information we’ve gathered up.
[The Hero turns back to their mentor, after the snickering from the computers turns into murmurs of discussion]
H: (Nervous laughter) New hero candidates, am I right? You know the headache that they give you when you’re trying to get them used to working within an organization like ours. But I don’t have to remind you of that fact. (Pause for 3 beats) Okay, and? So what if my generation is three-fourths former sidekicks, the point still stands, the other fourth was still difficult to integrate once they passed the grace period, weren’t they? (Pause for 2 beats) Exactly, thank you for agreeing with me.
[The Hero walks a bit around the room, their steps being heard before the sound of a sliding door overtakes the noise]
H: Walk with me, yeah? (Pause for 3 beats) Sorry if you were looking forward to meeting some old friends, and former sidekicks. Unfortunately, most are in different outposts, it’s recruitment season and the marketing department wants our most recognizable heroes out there at the outposts to increase the numbers of potential candidates that we can reach; So you can imagine how stretched thin we are right now, but hey, if we couldn’t multitask, then what kind of heroes would we be?
[Another door opens up as the steps continue going towards their direction]
H: (With a slight surprise) Still, this is your first time stepping into the HQ in a while, right? (Pause for 3 beats) Oh yeah, internal security thought it was a good idea to beef up our systems, to prevent you know, shapeshifters from waltzing in, or telepaths who are mind controlling heroes from infiltrating and causing some chaos; So sorry if the security people were being a bit difficult, I see they gave you a visitor’s pass though; (Whistle) Level Five clearance, there’s only one other person in this building authorized to give that out, which means that you were able to catch Honor Guard just before they had to leave for their own outpost assignment, right? (Pause for 3 beats) Figures, I went out to get drinks with them one night, and they would not stop telling old battle stories that they had with you. Though to be fair we didn’t know each other that well at the time, so it was an easy commonality between the two of us. We went back and forth in sharing stories, so it wasn’t completely one sided. They're a really great person, and honestly, I’m glad that we got to talking with each other. (Pause for 3 beats, pensively) While we’re on the topic of internal security, let me know if you want to put your information into the system, just to avoid any discomfort with the security in case Honor Guard isn’t able to help you.
[The sound of two sets of steps walking are heard, though they come to a stop as soon as they hear the sound and sight of construction going on. Mostly hammers, saws, welding torches, and drills.]
H: So catching up aside, what’s going on? What brings you here? (Pause for 2 beats, surprised) Oh? You want to help a bit more? Uhm yeah we won’t turn away help, especially from a seasoned veteran like you. Minus any field work, we could always use more people to help comb through the archives; If you wouldn’t mind working there that is. (Pause for 3 beats) Wonderful! Great, uhm we’re actually not too far from it. (Pause for 3 beats) Yeah you’re entirely right, this was The Memorial Atrium, though we’re renaming it to…well we’re not sure yet, we have a pool going on across the entirety of the organization. So far it looks like The Resting Garden is winning. (Pause for 3 beats) No, we didn’t get rid of The Memorial Atrium, we just moved it. Actually that’s me lying, now it’s called Memorial Hall, it will have an atrium by the same name, and a plate that gives information to visitors. (Pause for 3 beats) Yeah, with all the heroes that announced their retirements, we figured that the atrium was going to quickly fill up; So we allocated some funds to build a new building, nothing fancy, but enough to host memorials to our heroes for a long while before needing an expansion.
[The sound of two sets of feet moving again are heard, as the sound of the construction slowly dims into silence]
H: I can’t even begin to tell you how much your help will do for us; (Pause for 3 beats) Oh no don’t worry, you’re not going to be the only person in the archives, we have some of the more eagle eyed and brainy sidekicks in there. We put them on intern duty and have them looking over the films and records. I’m sure they’ll benefit from having someone in there to guide them on what entries to pay attention to and which not to. (A bit excited) Although, I would feel pretty bad if I didn’t try to warn you about the fact that there might be some fans of yours in that group. (Whispering) If I had to give my own opinion, it wouldn’t surprise me if the others gained an interest in you from all the archive entries they’ve been going through.
[The walking stops, as the two stand in front of the room, there’s the muffled sound of old battle reels playing, and some clattering of heavy boxes coming from the other side of the door.]
H: Welp this is your room, again, sorry if you get swarmed in there; You know how sidekicks are…well, you know how I was when I was your sidekick. (Pause for 3 beats, then laugh a bit) Hey! What did you expect!? First of all, I was a huge fan of yours, and when you selected me as your sidekick I was over the moon. Second of all, I was just a kid back then (pause for 3 beats) Okay so maybe sixteen isn’t technically being a kid but you know what I mean.
[The Hero pounds in a code on the pad, the beep of the lock opening signifies that it was the right code; Which leads to the doors sliding open.]
H: (Leaning into the room, and slightly away from the mic) Hey everyone! Uhm I’ve got a special guest for all of you. They’ll help you the best they can, and I really respect them, so take very good care of them; Most importantly of all, listen to them because you’ll come to find out that this particular guest of mine has an incredible amount of experience. So, say hi to my mentor!
[The sound of people getting excited and even murmuring spilled out into the hallway, while the battle reels still very much were playing.]
H: (Normally) Well, I hate to introduce and run, however I do have a meeting to finish up, and then after that, I gotta go and check out some tips we got, I think a few of them could be the big break we’ve been looking for. (Pause for 3 beats) Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll be safe… I mean, you did teach me to keep myself safe first and foremost. Anyways, thanks again for coming down and helping out. If memory serves, some of the other heroes are due to return today, so I think a lot of them would love to see you walking the halls again, even if it’s just for your visit; It’ll be a huge morale boost, especially with some of the old timers you used to pal around with. (Pause for 3 beats, then once more with laughter) So what if I know most of those old timers (playfully cocky) Just because y’all were the first heroes to establish this group, doesn’t mean y’all are on top anymore. We could totally run circles around all of you; Some of us literally (Pause for 3 beats, playfully laugh) oh, experience beats raw power any day does it? That’s what you forget my dear friend, we’re not inexperienced sidekicks anymore, we’re full blown heroes in our own right. (Laugh again) Anyways, banter aside, it really will boost the mood around here to see one of the founding members walking around. I’ll catch you later okay? Can’t keep the others waiting.
[The sound of the Hero walking away, their steps getting quieter and quieter as they do is one of the last things heard before the door to the archives closes]
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------A/N: Feel free to edit the script as needed.
As usual, here's a bit of a key
- The [] brackets, tend to contain sfx cues/things that are happening.
- While the () Parenthesis often times have character cues/things that the speaker’s role is more or less doing.
- If you like what you see and want to see any other projects that I'm working on or generally know what's happening, follow me on Twitter, same as my username. I also now have a website! Feel free to check it out if you want to see all my previous and future works. Including stories, poetry, and other writing stuff I make.
- Feel free to record this to your hearts content if you think it's worth recording. Here's the scriptbin if ya'll want it.
- I'm always willing to improve my work, so constructive criticism is welcomed.
- The script is okay to monetize.

£1700/3 with FRW - some rumours of slightly lower prices elsewhere but not yet confirmed
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“Intense and concentrated, with fennel, aniseed and liqourice root. Where Chapelle d'Ausone celebrates a wave of opulence in the vintage, this focuses more clearly on black tea, slate, intense black chocolate. Precise and well cut, this is creamy and exuberant without sacrificing elegance and balance. Amazing depths of flavour and grip. A true En Primeur sample where you know you are a long long way from this being ready to drink. The first year, incidentally, of not Premier Grand Cru Classé A, although the ranking has not been featured on the label since 2012. No irrigation at Ausone. 100% new oak. Harvest September 5 to 27. 7.25ha. Conversion to organic farming since 2020, Philippe Baillarguet cellar master, Pauline Vauthier owner and winemaker. Potential 100.”
98-100 points – Jane Anson, Inside Bordeaux
“The Ausone 2022 is a blend of 50% Merlot and 50% Cabernet Franc, with a yield of 38 hl/ha. The Merlot was harvested between 5th and 7th September and the Cabernet Franc between 21st and 27th September. It has a pH of 3.57, a TPI of 66, and it is opaque purple in color. The wine is completely closed on the first smell, requiring a lot of swirling to begin to release fragrant notes of dried roses, licorice, cast-iron pan, and cumin seed, giving way to a core of Morello cherries, wild blueberries, and redcurrant preserves. The full-bodied palate is an exercise in elegance, featuring very fine-grained, very firm tannins and breathtaking tension to frame the tightly wound red and black fruit layers, finishing with epic length and mind-blowing complexity. Holding its cards close to its chest, it's a hard wine to read at first glance, yet there's a lot of nuanced sub-text bound within the rock-solid structure. I see this slowly unfolding over many years to become a wine for the ages.”
97-99+ points – Lisa Perrotti-Brown MW, The Wine Independent
“Mint, licorice, spice, incense, blackberries, black cherries, espresso, flowers, crushed stones, spice and cocoa create the attention seeking nose. There is intensity, richness, depth, and energy on the palate. The influence of crushed rocks, stones, and chalk is strong on the palate. The peppery edge to the powerful layers of fruit provide additional complexity, and lift to the dark fruits. The resilient finish coats your palate with layers of salty, dark, sweet, black, red and blue fruits that linger. The wine blends 50% Cabernet Franc with 50% Merlot.15% ABV, 3.57 pH. Harvesting took place September 5-9 for the Merlot and September 21-27 for the Cabernet Franc. Yields were 38 hectoliters per hectare. 1,600 cases were produced.”
97-99 points – Jeff Leve, The Wine Cellar Insider
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Consensus in Discord seems to be that this is expensive - on the scorechart it scores worse than Angelus at a significantly higher price.

Hello everyone, I'm Mischa. Inspired by yesterday's live event, I wrote this piece right afterward.
I've been on a weight loss journey since late 2021 and I've lost 20 kilograms so far. I've reached 11,5% bodyfat, but I'm working to lowering that percentage. I still have quite a bit of abdominal fat which I would like to lose for health reasons, but also because I want to reach a lean physique.
Dipping into those last few kilograms of fat have produced the strongest cravings which led to some poor choices.
During my weight loss journey I have managed to get rid of a few Mischa's. They are all forms of Evening Bryan who have progressively been refined through my weight loss journey:

• Lazy Mischa who refuses to track calories when times get tough
• Innaccurate Mischa who skips weighing certain foods to fool himself into a caloric deficit
• Sugar Mischa who loved to eat sweet foods and indulge in chocolate and cake
• Fast Food Mischa who would always eat at a fast food restaurant when he was in the city
• Potato Chips Binge Mischa who for no reason would walk to the supermarket and buy a bag of Doritos and a bag of chocolate and go wild, leading to shame, regret, and weight gain

I've come far. I am consistently eating a whole foods plant based diet without refined carbohydrates or sugar. I've been vegan for 6 years (with some periods of vegetarianism here and there), and I've been tracking calories since I started my weight loss journey using YAZIO.
I never binge on junk food any more. These days, cheating consists of eating more nuts, raisins, fruits or peanut butter than my daily caloric budget allows. I binge on whole, healthy foods, but they can still lead to stalls in weight loss. Calories will always be calories.
A few weeks ago I came across Blueprint and it has been a revolution. I'm starting with the nutrition and created a modified version for myself. Instead of always deciding in the moment what I wanted to eat, I've started to plan my nutrition meticulously and make these decisions beforehand. Leaving these decisions to my Autonomous Self has been a liberating experience so far. When I have my nutrition in order, I will get some blood tests done and start working on supplementation.
My current version of Evening Mischa convinces me that the Blueprint dinners (Beet salad, sweet potato) are not enough calories to last me through the night and to fuel my morning run, thus he convinces me to eat a few handfuls of nuts or have a rye cracker with peanut butter, which always turns into 3 or 4, easily adding 500 calories to my carefully crafted regime and thus inhibiting weight loss for that day.
Normal Mischa knows very well that there is no problem with the dinners. In fact, he knows that they are optimized to be easily digestible so the stomach is nice and empty when it's time for an optimal sleep. But Evening Mischa has shown up a couple of times last week and won the battle, and I've had enough.
I'm hereby firing Evening Mischa's authority to make decisions about my food. The system is in place, everything is prepared and planned.
It is time to let my Autonomous Self take over from here on out.
I started writing this without much forethought, and instantly some doubts arise. Evening Mischa panics. But there is really no point in waiting any longer. I want to be in a caloric deficit continuously and keep losing weight.
I want an optimal body.
I want to live long and healthy.
I want to be rid of all the fat.
Present Mischa wants this.
Future Mischa wants this.
The only person who does not want this is Evening Mischa who shows up 1 hour after dinner convincing me that I need to eat a few more handfuls of nuts or a cracker with peanut butter because I don't feel full enough, or because I need energy for my run tomorrow.
If I start losing weight more than 0,4kg a week, I will increase calories. There is no need for interference. The system will handle it.
I don't need Evening Mischa to meddle with these affairs.
The Data Steers Everything.

I got a little bored and drunk. Then this happened. Just a bit of dumb action. I could try and spin this as me improving my ability to write more action oriented scenes, but well. Yeah, drunk and bored. Enjoy and tell me what you think.
CW: Sweet sweet excessive violence
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The little skiff drifted lazily along the asteroid belt. In a backwater system, free from prying eyes, the crew had ample time and space to test their newest toy. The ursdain in the pilot’s seat adjusted a couple controls before settling back in his chair. His avian co-pilot was observing the rest of the crew on the security feed.
“What is he doing?”
The ursdain leaned over, “Practicing?”
The avian’s half lidded stare was the only response.
In the cargo bay were the skiff’s other three occupants. A rather burly male human with brown skin and a mostly shaved head was yanking his tomahawk back out of the wooden board he had hung up on the wall. He walked back a few paces before turning and hurling it back at the target.
“Do you have to do that right now?” asked the exacerbated vulptan.
“Nope.” He responded while lining up his next throw.
“Just let him. If he doesn’t keep busy, he’ll keep trying to add ‘modifications.” The red-headed human female interjected while elbow deep in their prototype.
“You’re just jealous of my brilliance.”
“Sure. We’ll call it that.”
Meanwhile as the ursdain began to ponder his next meal a red blip flashed on his display followed by a sharp claxon. He slammed the red alert, “Thakt, we got company!”
The avian was already attempting to jam the enemy sensors, but they’d been made. “They’re on their way! Pirates looking to board!” She keyed the intercom, “Prepare for boarders!”
As soon as the lights went red the man in the jury-rigged shop ran to the new machine. “This thing ready?”
“The targeting computer hasn’t been installed and there’s still the issue of-“
“Can it move!?”
“Yes, but-“
“Strap me in!” He snached up the helmet and mask then climbed in the suit. The women began closing and sealing panels as he donned the helmet, flipped down the visor, and sealed the mask to his face.
“Gonzo! Listen to me. You don’t have a lot of time in that thing, so you gotta be in and out. Alright?”
“Lil, this is what I’m good at. Let me work.” She rolled her eyes as she closed the front up.
He opened then closed his mechanical fingers and rolled his shoulders. The suit seemed to be responding well. He stood to its full height and slammed the dome helmet down over his head. The other two already snatched a couple weapons and ran for the bridge to secure it. He stalked over to the armory bench to pick up some toys and party favors when the com cracked to life in his ear.
“Gonzo? You receiving?”
“Loud and clear.”
“Our only shot at getting out of here is you disabling their engines and breaking whatever they use to mate with us.”
He giggled slightly as he strapped the weapon harness over his mid-section. “Copy. Break shit. Can do.”
The ship shuddered and jolted. “They’re broadcasting for surrender.”
“Sure, I’ll accept their surrender.”
“Funny. They’re about to breach the stern airlock. Get ready.”
Gonzo drew a breath and put his game face on. Their MO is to breach loud and fast. A little shock and awe. He planted a couple surprises by the hatch then took cover around the bulkhead.
“They’re about to breach.” He popped a couple smoke grenades and tossed them down the corridor. Then an idea struck him, and he popped a couple more and thrust them in his harness for a bit of Blackbeard flair. He readied his weapon and checked the other two. All he could do was wait.
A few seconds later the hatch blasted in and two canids rushed into the haze. Gonzo didn’t know how armored they were, but he figured being covered in burning napalm was a bad thing. He leaned the nozzle around the corner and lit up the entrance. The blinding light pierced the smoke and judging from the screams, they weren’t ready for assaulting a weapons manufacturing ship. Now came the fun part of the suit. While the auto-aim and friend/foe feature weren’t installed, it did have a suite of sensors such as sonar, lidar, and infrared.
Gonzo could see the outlines of the thrashing pirates and held his fire. A couple more pirates entered the hall to drag their comrades out. That’s when he hit the clacker. The anti-personnel mines went off, filling the confined space with hundreds of ball-bearings in an instant.
“Hey! We gotta clean all that up when you’re done you know!”
“Relax. I’m advancing now. Give me a map.”
Sure enough, a holo layout of the pirate ship sprung to life in the corner of his vision, complete with the highlighted sections of engineering and security. He advanced through the smoke onto the pirate ship. As he emerged through the smoke, more billowing off him like a demon fresh from Hell, he saw more pirates readying to storm his little craft. They were lightly armored. Shame. With another squeeze and lazy turn, he coated the would-be intruders.
Realizing they bit off more than they could chew, the lights on the pirate vessel began flashing red, and a call to repel boarders went out. Gonzo hustled down the passages headed toward engineering. He rounded the corner and dove back behind the corner as the ursdain with a gatling laser opened up from the other end of the hall. He wasn’t sure the flamethrower would make it to the other side, so he swapped to his baby. He tossed his last smoke grenade around the corner and counted to ten.
When he felt the passage was good and obscured, he held his replica China Lake around the corner and fired. Fwoomp…BOOM! Something wet and red hit the wall beside Gonzo. I think I got ‘em. He pumped another round into the chamber and continued.
He found Engineering easily enough and stormed inside. It was a large room dominated by…Well, the engine he supposed. Gonzo wasn’t an engineer, but he was a 2300. He was about to jog up to the biggest most important looking bit when his legs were taken out from under him. He was quickly bound up in ssypno coils and could hear the suit groaning under the pressure.
“There’ll be no more of that. Now let’s get you out of that can.”
Gonzo struggled to no avail, but he’d be damned before he gave up. He took a breath and forced his arms out away from his body. The suit groaned and struggled to give him the breathing room he needed. When he thought he had the space to work with, his hand shot to his knife strapped to his belt. He drew it and twisted his hand just as the coils snapped shut around him. The pirate stabbed herself in the soft scales of her underbelly just as Gonzo drew his arm around his torso slicing long and deep.
She shrieked as he carved, and quickly tried to slither away, but he snatched a piece of her armor and rode her, continuing to stab and slash at the joints in her suit. She tried to curl in on herself and grab the man with her upper arms. He wrestled with her for a while before he drew his offhand behind her opposing arm then using her own death grip on his main hand bent her arm around his. Her elbow snapped and she shrieked. With brief freedom of movement, Gonzo drew his knife up and plunged it into her sub armored neck. Her tail thrashed and writhed before the life seeped from her.
Gasping and sweating profusely, he drew himself up and stumbled to the drive core. Or what he thought was the drive core. He wasn’t an astrophysicist, but he was sure this thing didn’t like heavy explosives. He quickly rigged up an IED around the biggest glowiest part and set it to go off on his clacker.
He jogged from engineering to security but was stopped in the passages by a couple canids ambushing him. One opened fire with a laser-rifle, striking him in the upper torso, but the armor kept his chest from being cauterized. The blast streaked off the chest piece leaving a red-hot mark. It burned.
“Keep out of fire, Gonzo! I was trying to tell you that the heat-sinks aren’t finished yet!”
There may not have been a new hole in him, but it burned like Hell. He closed the distance to his attackers, too close to use his rifle, and they met him with claw and teeth drawn. The first canid threw themselves at him, knocking him down, and clamping their jaws around where his neck would be. He heard a hiss as something gave way on his shoulder. He fought and rolled to buck them off, but they held fast.
Gonzo decided it was time to draw his sidearm and clamped his hand down on the head of the assaulting canid to keep them in place. The other one tried to claw at his legs, but only found solid titanium alloy. He reached down to his holster and drew the comically oversized revolver, now appropriately sized in the power-armor’s fist. He thrust the barrel under the canid’s chin and fired. Their friends’ helmet rocketing off their head gave Gonzo the brief shock needed to roll the first pirate off him, raise his pistol, and fire point blank at his second attacker. As their head snapped back, he hauled himself back onto his feet and limped into security.
He needed to find a way to release his ship but drew short at the two canids and taurian blocking the consoles. The two canids threw themselves at Gonzo, biting and clawing for all they were worth. The heat in the suit was becoming unbearable. It was starting to sear bits of exposed flesh. Gonzo regretted jumping in in a tank top.
One canid clamped their jaws on his neck while the other went for his legs trying to drop him to the deck. Something snapped to his left and he lost all control of his left arm. It was just a hundred pounds of dead weight. He fell back swinging his pistol around trying to pistol-whip his attackers.
“That’s enough! Just give up and we’ll sell you somewhere nice.” The taurian called out.
Gonzo bucked his hips and fired at the canid by his legs but missed. Repeating what he did before he point-blank lobotomized the canid by his shoulder. With a roll, he popped himself back up readying his next shot when the second canid fell on him. He held his ground as they slashed and leapt to bite.
He caught them in the air and slammed them into the bulkhead beside him. It was nice to be eye level with them for once. He used this to his advantage by slamming his titanium fist into their face and gut repeatedly, feeling each subtle bone crack and snap. The taurian grabbed him under the arms and hurled him to the other side of the room as the last canid slumped down the wall.
The pirate drew some kind of bladed weapon. Big mistake. Gonzo drew his tomahawk, and sprinted forward with his head down. Using all the power in the suit he had, he slammed into her stomach and drove her forward into the wall.
She recovered her breath quickly and began raining blows down on his back and shoulders. The strain was beginning to get to him. Sweat was streaming down his body, stinging his eyes. The suit burned. He bent his knees then shot upright, driving his helmet into her chin. She rocked back in shock and Gonzo took a couple steps back. His left arm was dead. He could only grasp with the fingers. The pirate rubbed her chin.
“Oh, you’ll pay for that.”
Gonzo quickly tossed his tomahawk up and grabbed it by the end, before hurling it at his enemy. It buried in her shoulder, and she screamed. He sprinted at her full tilt with his head down shoulder out and pinned her to the wall. She kept fighting and pushed him back. Gonzo used his hips to swing his dead arm around to the pirate and clamped down with his hand. His hand locked in place as the taurian began to try and ineffectually push him away. Panting, he decided to give her a bit of backward-knee syndrome. He hauled back and put his and his suits’ full weight into a stomp kick right on her knee.
It folded back and she shrieked. Now at chest height he began slamming his fist into her helmet until it warped and broke. He stopped when he saw the stream of blood pour out the bottom.
He tried to make his way to the console, but realized his hand was stuck gripping the dead-weight of the corpse. He planted one boot on its back and pulled for all he was worth. With a fresh souvenir of taurian hide trapped in his grasp, he quickly worked the security console and disengaged the clams holding his ship in place. Once freed, he pulled out his clacker and slammed it. The whole ship rocked and shuddered. Catching his que he limp-jogged back to his ship. The remaining pirates were too busy with damage control as the ship quickly began filling with vacuum. Gonzo found his airlock with minimal resistance and threw himself in it.
“Blast!” he cried as he clutched the safety bar inside the lock. Grokna punched the skiff for all it was worth headed for the nearest jump point.
When the airlock cycled Gonzo limped back into the scorched cargo hold with hydro leaking down his left side. Lil and Korsk sprinted in to check on the man as he clumsily clutched at the emergency releases. The dome helmet fired clean off the top while the chest piece fired out revealing the sweat drenched and burned pilot. The suit dropped to its knees as Gonzo flopped out ripping his mask and helmet off. He gulped at the fresh air and luxuriated in the coolness of the metal floor when he gasped, “I…I have…Some notes…Need…Better cooling…”

Something happened tonight. Something always seems to be happening these days, but this time, it was particularly confusing.
Some days don't even feel real anymore.
After my last post, I did as my savior human had advised me. I called Mary Markov and relayed to her what Jewel had told me. She promised to send agents to the warehouse right away, and late that same night, she reached out to me once again with news of an arrest having been made. Despite this small success, we both knew that this meant outright war. The Collective would know who had given them away, and the possibility of me joining their ranks peacefully would be off the table. The question remaining was when they would make good on their threat. Nettie Peterson's house is being guarded by covert Agency personnel, and mine and Eli's apartments are under watch, too. I'm glad Mary Markov is doing what she can to protect them, but I never doubted that complications would arise eventually.
Just not quite so soon.
The day started off fine. My best friend, still being relatively used to having agents around, doesn't seem to mind the aforementioned changes. The van inconspicuously parked outside her house didn't bother her in the least as she went about her morning routine. I helped her throw together something nourishing for breakfast, then watched her doing her makeup. She likes to keep her lips glossy and often applies lime green eyeshadow paired with a pear-colored line and, on special days, the occasional rhinestone. She looks like a garden fairy. When I told her that today, she treated me to a bright smile and a pat on the cheek.
She went off to look after her larvae, leaving me to roam her house alone. I spent some time inspecting the many drawings she keeps framed on the high wall in the living room. She always brings new ones home from work—gifts from the kindergarteners. They're not very artistically skilled, but they do produce interesting work. Nettie hangs them all up on the special wall, even the really bad ones. I watched TV for a couple hours, then read until Nettie came home.
It was getting dark out when she realized she needed tampons. She said she could get by on what she had until the morning, but no longer. I told her to stay put and that I'd run and get some for her, which is why I went on that fateful evening walk. I gave a quick nod to the agent leaning against the van outside as I started heading down the street, backpack slung over my shoulder. I made it to the convenience store five minutes before closing time, giving the annoyed cashier an apologetic look as she rang me up. Outside, the nightly blackness had settled over the rooftops, and I took in a deep breath, letting the fresh air flood my body.
All was well as I began to march back in the direction of Nettie's home. Until I heard a motorcycle revving.
…Jewel?
I instantly froze up. There was no one immediately in sight. I tried to soothe my fevered mind. There was no reason to be so on edge. A lot of town residents owned motorcycles, or at least I assumed they did. This reaction was a testament to my own waning sanity, no doubt. I shuddered, making an effort to shake the thought. There was a nervous tension in my step as I continued on my way. The engine noises faded off into the distance after a while, and I concluded that I was indeed becoming a bit paranoid.
Step by step, I carried myself towards my goal. Nettie Peterson's street wasn't anywhere in sight yet, but I would probably be at her door in around ten minutes tops. I had walked the distance between her house and the store often enough to estimate. I considered putting my earbuds in and listening to some music as a distraction, but I was afraid of what I might end up missing if I took away my sense of hearing. I began to chew on the inside of my cheek.
There was not a soul out except for me. This wasn't uncommon considering the size of our town, but given the circumstances, it still served to elevate my heart rate. I repeatedly tried and failed to calm myself. Eventually, I couldn't help it anymore. I took off running. And then it happened—someone stepped out from a sidestreet right ahead of me and we collided. Large hands flew to my shoulders, long fingers harshly digging into them. I didn't need to look up at the other person to recognize them. I sensed the same musky smell that had lingered around my room for hours after their last visit; warm, sweet and impossible to ignore. I could suddenly hear every single beat of my heart reverberating between my ears. Dread seemed to dribble down my bone-dry throat, pooling in my stomach like cold water.
I slowly lifted my head, knowing exactly who was about to stare back at me.
Jewel's eyes were incredibly wide. Their brows were trembling in manic, barely restrained fury, their lower lip quivered and, to my complete bewilderment, tears were freely rolling down their cheeks. They solidified the moment the skin contact was lost, turning into shimmering stones of green, blue and violet. I reached out and caught one before it could hit the ground. It was bright pink, and I found myself captivated by its beauty.
"So, can I… keep this?" I asked, tilting my head at the cultist.
Their chest was rising and falling heavily, and I shrank back a little when I took note of their nostrils flaring. "You are so dead," they uttered in a low, husky growl.
"I take it you got news of the Agency's involvement?"
Jewel once more closed the distance between us. They leaned down, their gemstone tears bouncing off my chest as they fell. "You spiteful little bitch. You'd rather try to ruin a good cause than forgive me and work together?"
"You can't be this delusional."
"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do!" they snapped, their voice rising to an eerily high pitch. They paused, looking briefly confused by what they'd said before the wrathful expression twisted their features again.
"What now? Are you seriously going to attack me out in the open like this?"
"Oh." Jewel drew themself up, squaring their muscled shoulders. "Oh, I'll manage."
Their outline before me started to blur, becoming fuzzy and indistinct. I blinked, then reached up to rub my eyes. They weren't becoming any clearer, though. Frowning, I took several steps back, squinting at the spot where the cultist had just been standing. The cultist was quickly turning into a faint, paling swirl of colors, losing shape before at last disappearing completely.
I was speechless, my pulse racing as beads of sweat ran down the side of my face. I couldn't believe it. Had all of this been some sort of hallucination? I raised a hand to my feverishly hot forehead. I was losing my mind. That had to be it. My gaze dropped to the gray asphalt and my breath caught in my throat when I spotted the colorful stones lying at my feet. Fuck.
A soft laugh rang out beside my ear, a draft of moist, warm air grazing my cheek.
I instinctively swung at the emptiness beside me, my clenched fist connecting with nothing. No.
"Come back here," I whined, flinching at the unmasked fear in my own voice. A sharp pain flared up in my ankle as my feet were swiped out from under me. I let out a squeak as I fell onto my open palms, managing to shield my head from the impact just in time. The rough ground scraped my hands and knees as I hurriedly pushed myself up, a few stray pebbles drawing blood. Despite my panic, my mind was clear enough to understand that I was in a precarious position. I couldn't just whip out my tentacles—not here where anyone could see me. It would for sure result in hysteria. People could start straight-up shooting at me. I'd end up looking like a monstrosity on a rampage, especially with Jewel having gone invisible. As it were, I only had one option, and that was to run.
I didn't waste another second. There was no way I was leading this murder cultist back to Nettie, but I had to find somewhere with other people, anywhere…
Aimlessly charging ahead, I tried to bring more distance between myself and the disembodied footsteps ringing out from behind me. Before long however, it was becoming hard to tell how far away they truly were. The sound seemed to flit from side to side, reaching my ears from constantly changing directions. The asshole was messing with my head.
Soon enough, my lungs were on fire. My sides were stinging; breathing became harder. I inwardly cursed my useless short legs. Still, I didn't slow down; I didn't dare to. I was growing increasingly desperate. Where was I supposed to go? I couldn't think of any places still open. And then, cutting through the darkness, a flickering neon sign offered the answer to all of my questions. Tom's Diner. With hope renewing my spirits, I picked up my pace once more. Rhonda was just in the process of moving the big menu sign inside for the night. I came to a skittering halt mere inches in front of her, helplessly grabbing onto her apron before she could close the door behind her.
She spun around to face me with knotted brows. "Evangeline?"
"Help me," I wheezed. "Let me in, quick!"
Rhonda, though still visibly perplexed, sprang into action, dragging me inside along with her. I slammed the door shut, throwing my entire weight against it. An unseen force clashed against it from outside, making the entire storefront shudder. The waitress nearly dropped her sign. "What in the—"
"They're after me," I choked out. "You can't see them, but they're right outside!"
"Oh." Her expression cleared up. "Say no more, say no more." She reached into her apron pocket, rummaging around while mumbling to herself. "I'm picking up what you're putting down…" She produced a bright red marker. "Allow me." Swiftly stepping up to me, she raised the felt tip to my forehead, proceeding to draw something onto my skin with smooth, efficient accuracy. An incoherent whisper slipped from her lips, words in a language I had never heard before. Finally, she pulled back. "Turn around, try if you can see them now. The door locks automatically, by the way."
I hesitantly shifted my weight back onto my feet, releasing the door and turning to look out into the night. I let out a gasp, staggering back when I found the contorted visage of the cultist pressed up against the glass. Jewel's eyes were still rimmed with shimmering tears, their mouth twisted in a grimace of murderous rage. They frowned in confusion when they realized that my gaze was once more trained on them. It didn't take long until they started pounding on the windowpane again.
"Hey! You stop that," Rhonda shouted, stabbing a finger in their direction. "I just cleaned that today! Oh hell… Hailey!" she called over her shoulder. "We have a problem; come help."
Another waitress came rushing out of the back room. Glancing between us and the pacing cultist outside had her huff out a sigh. "I see," she said icily. Determinedly striding towards the door, she lifted her voice, beginning to recite a verse or rhyme of some sort. It all sounded like gibberish to me. My head was spinning, my mind running wild, unable to keep track of what was happening around me. My skull suddenly felt prickly from the inside, my whole body seemingly turning weightless. My vision fell away as my eyes rolled back and my knees gave out from beneath me. I had lost consciousness before I hit the floor.
I don't believe I was out for very long, despite my exhausted body embracing the cold slumber. A voice tugged on the edge of my hearing, gently guiding me towards wakefulness. I had been moved onto a slightly softer, more comfortable surface. I arduously craned my neck up to overlook my surroundings. I was lying on one of the padded benches next to the stationary tables. Crouching beneath it in order to sit close to me was a very familiar figure.
"Hey, Sunshine." Frankie Preston straightened up as far as he could without hitting his head. "Sorry I wasn't there to catch you when you fainted. Too bad. It could have been our movie-moment."
I smiled at him. Then I jolted upright, nearly kicking Frankie under the table as I planted my feet on the floor to train my eyes on Rhonda. She was leaning against the partition wall of the booth, typing away on her phone. "You," I uttered. "You and that other lady did some kind of… witchcraft-thing."
She glanced up briefly. "Oh. That was nothing, really. Forget about it."
Fran poked his head out from between my legs. "What's this about witchcraft?"
Rhonda shrugged. "Hailey and I just performed some basic spells to get rid of your little wife's stalker."
"Could you please not—nevermind that; what are you even talking about?" Fran's voice was dripping with bewilderment.
The older woman raised a brow at him. "Honey, we're… we're witches. You did know that, right?"
Silence.
"Right?" Rhonda repeated, once again not receiving a response.
"I don't think he did," I supplied helpfully.
"You're kidding me." Rhonda stared at the blonde with her mouth agape. "How could you not have known? You lived with us for almost two years!"
He still gave no answer.
"Honey, you saw everything! You saw my herbs…" Her voice faltered in disbelief. "And the ceremonial daggers… The charms around the doors!"
He shrugged.
"You played with Mae-Lynn's casting crystals for a whole afternoon? You were in the room when Paloma made her sacrifice for Loki's favor? You literally watched all six of us at our bonfire dance during the blood moon!"
"I thought that was just another crunchy mom thing."
"Crunchy mom thing?" she echoed, her chest rising at the affront. Jabbing a finger at my forehead, she added, "And how would you have accounted for that?"
"That little drawing? I thought Eva had gotten herself tattooed." Frankie glanced between Rhonda and me in confusion.
"It's a magic symbol, for crying out loud; it's a protection against forces messing with her perception!" the waitress explained in audible exasperation. "And who would get their forehead inked?"
"Eva might. You gotta admit she has peculiar fashion tastes," Frankie argued.
I couldn't help but chime in. "Why do people keep saying that?"
Rhonda threw her hands up in defeat.
I cleared my throat. "You're saying that all the ladies working here have supernatural abilities?"
"Like I just told you." She rubbed her temples with both hands. "And I'm sorry you fainted. It had to do with Hailey—her magic is great for defending against dark influences. The spell she cast was to scare off your attacker, but it seems to have affected you, too."
"I don't consider myself a dark influence."
"Well, you are an interdimensional being," Rhonda replied. "Not normally mankind's best friend. But I know you're a good kid. Don't worry."
"Thank you very much for helping me," I said softly, staring at my hands as I folded them in my lap. "I apologize for the inconvenience."
"It's cool."
"So, the six of you all together are probably really powerful?" I inquired, an idea faintly taking shape in my mind.
"You could say that," Rhonda answered, not without a hint of pride.
"Is there any way I could get your input on a problem I've been having?"
"I suppose," she said slowly. "We'll hear you out, sure, but that's about all the promises I'll make for now, okay?"
"Yes, perfect."
"Alright. I'll talk to the girls and we'll be in touch." She zipped up her jacket, shoving her phone into her pocket. "Goodnight, you two."
With that, she left us sitting in the empty diner. Frankie still looked rather puzzled. Shaking his head, he turned to give me a droll smile. "How embarrassing. I normally pride myself on being perceptive. People are strange though, aren't they?" He sat down beside me on the bench, shuffling closer. "You ran into trouble again? With the cultist?"
I didn't really want to relay the entirety of what I'd learned from Jewel to him—somehow, I didn't think Frankie would be opposed to someone bringing by the end of the world. It would be best to keep that particular piece of information stored away for a while longer. Instead, I asked a completely different, if not wholly unrelated question. "The other day, you told me about feeling destructive and grimy. Where is that coming from?"
"Sunshine, I know I've danced around this for long enough. I can tell you, but you look miserable right now. I'd much rather have you in better spirits first." He placed a tentative hand on my back. "Anything I can do to cheer you up?"
I started chewing on my lower lip, not meeting his gaze.
"You're thinking about kissing me again, aren't you?" Frankie asked, having apparently learned how to read minds.
"We don't have to. I do not care."
"That nearly crossed the line between accommodating and insulting. Look, I want to. You just caught me off guard the last time." He pulled a wet string from his chewing gum. I waited in silence for him to continue. "I'm honestly surprised you're still up to it. I know I'm a piece of shit."
"You're not—"
"I am. And what's more, you should know that kissing is as far as things are gonna get between us. I don't do the sex-thing. That's nothing to do with how much I like you or anything. I just don't do that." He had removed his gum from his mouth completely, instead fumbling around with it like play doh. "If that cancels out the whole liking-me-extravaganza, then it's best we cleared that up beforehand." He turned to face me. "What's that look for?"
I was beaming at him with more conviction that I had found the most perfect being than ever. "This works out beautifully," I told him.
"Are you sure? You're not just saying this?"
"If you don't take my word for it, I wouldn't know how else to prove it."
"I believe you! I'm glad, I really am, I'm just kinda stunned." He straightened up. "I want to kiss you even more now."
A quiet squeak came from somewhere in my throat. "I can hear my pulse," I remarked.
"Yeah, me too." He grinned, propping his chin in his palm. "Excited?"
"You know that." Feeling I had to share more, I added, "This is the first time for me. That doesn't change anything, does it?"
Fran's brows rose a great deal. "Huh."
"Is that bad?"
"No! But seriously, is this gonna be your first kiss?" He gestured at our surroundings. "A dingy little diner after hours? Not very romantic, is it?"
"That's fine," I assured him.
"Nope. We can do better." He got off the bench, drawing himself up to his full height (which wasn't very impressive either). "It doesn't have to be a big deal, but it should be nice. You're getting a good first kiss. I'll think of something. Don't worry, I won't go over the top."
I couldn't help but smile at that. Letting him pull me to my feet, I briefly went in for a hug. I nearly jumped when he turned his head and pressed his lips to my cheek. "That doesn't count." He held onto my hand as he let go. "So… how would you feel about hypothetically burning a building together?"
X
1
2: deadbeat roommate
3: creepy crush
4: relocation
5: beach concert
6: First date
7: Temp work
8: roommate talk
9: a dismal worldview
10: warehouse
11: staircase
12: explanation
13: hurt
14: hospital
15: ocean
16: diner
17: government work
18: something in the caves
19: shopping cart
20: olms and Jewels
21: long hair
22: recruitment

Ragnavi stood at the edge of a hill located beside the Dragonkin encampment. She breathed in, drinking deep from the crisp morning air.
It tasted wrong.
I have been dancing to Elnaril's tune. She was still coming to terms with that particular revelation. Even now, admitting it rankled her. The notion that she'd allowed herself to be blinded by her pursuit of EXP...fuck, it was shameful. No one else knew, but she did, and that was already bad enough.
Hindsight made it all seem so obvious. This entire war was a farce. Her armies had advanced unopposed because they were never meant to be opposed. Their string of victories, and the Harpies she'd slain as EXP, were little more than a trail of bait leading her towards Elnaril's capital city. No other explanation made sense.
Not that she'd looked especially hard for an explanation until yesterday. It was much more convenient to adorn Elnaril with neat, concise labels. Why had he declared war? Because he was greedy. Why were his armies failing so spectacularly? Because he was incompetent. Ragnavi had been content to look no further than that.
After learning Elnaril was controlled by the Blight, however? That changed matters.
Most of her soldiers refused to believe it. In truth, the Harpies they'd extracted the information from refused to believe it as well. They'd thrown out the rumors as a desperate measure to buy favor, explaining how distressing Message Crystal reports of a Blight-possessed Elnaril were coming from cities to the far east. The concept seemed ludicrous, and Ragnavi likely would have dismissed it as hearsay – if it weren't for the numerous corroborating accounts of disappearances in the capital. Nobles, civilians and Combat Class users alike, all vanishing without a trace.
When combined with Elnaril's flagrant lack of regard for the lives of his people, it indicated a pattern. Not of greedy incompetence, but of calculated malice.
Others could stick their heads in the sand if they wished. Ragnavi had grown up in the pit of vipers that was the Dragonkin court, and she could smell deceit from leagues away. This Blight-infected Elnaril wanted her army to continue marching straight towards the capital city. For him, abomination that he was, sacrificing the lives of thousands of Harpies in order to draw her attention was no worse than spilling loose change on the ground.
What have you prepared that instills you with such confidence? What awaits me at the capital?
She supposed that she'd be finding out soon, when she left her armies behind and flew ahead alone.
If Ragnavi was capable of greater self-delusion, she might have been able to convince herself that she was acting pragmatically. There were just enough benefits for it to be a half-sensible plan. Compared to the maddeningly slow gait of her armies, she could travel significantly faster on her own. Flying solo would let her reach the capital in less than ten days, while trekking with her soldiers across the bulk of Harpy territory would take months more. And it wasn't as if any Harpies she crossed paths with could keep pace with her, so there was no real danger to it.
I am playing the role of a Scout, she told herself. We must know what Elnaril is plotting before advancing further. Arriving at the capital earlier than he anticipates, before he's recalled more Harpies to fortify his position, may give rise to unforeseen opportunities. I will observe the city from a safe distance – and if a chance arises to disrupt his plans, no Combat Class user in the world is better-suited to taking advantage of that scenario than myself.
Sound logic...if she ignored the fury boiling inside her. The last Blight she'd encountered left her with agonizing Corruption sickness that afflicted her to this day. Its death hadn't been anywhere near sufficient of a revenge. Now a second Blight was trying to make a fool of her, and she was supposed to avert her eyes from that offense?
No. Perhaps the cautious route would have been to avoid the capital city, Scouring the rest of Harpy territory for EXP, but she was no mewling newborn that cowered from a challenge when it presented itself. She was a Dragonkin. A true Dragonkin. Elnaril would pay for his transgressions in blood and fire.
Ragnavi recognized that her desires were born from hubris. She also did not care. What good was all the power she'd accumulated if she couldn't use it as she pleased?
An approaching presence jarred her from her thoughts. She turned around to see the man she'd called for standing several feet away, although he was 4 minutes and 13 seconds late. Considering his circumstances, she would afford him a measure of leniency. "Vurshath."
"My Queen." Her retainer nodded to her. "You wished to see me?"
She examined the man closely. Vurshath's posture was slouched by a quarter of an inch, and black circles were emblazoned under his eyes, so dark that they could've been mistaken for paint. He was exhibiting unacceptable weakness for a retainer of the Dragon Queen to show. The kind that invited vultures to swoop down and pick at your carcass.
Yet even if the other retainers attempted to depose him at this very instant, Ragnavi wasn't certain if Vurshath would care. He was still recovering from the loss of his wife. It was one thing to claim that your family was prepared to die in battle; another to witness that gruesome vow become a reality. The Dragonkin casualties thus far had been sparse, but sparse was not zero, and Vurshath's wife happened to roll poorly in the game of war.
The pain in his eyes was one that Ragnavi was intimately familiar with.
"As you are aware, I shall be traveling to the Harpy capital," she began. "I intend to head straight there, without detours or excessive rest. It is unlikely that I will encounter anything more than the occasional Harpy along the way."
She locked eyes with him. "However. While the odds are egregiously small, there remains a possibility that I will encounter...others."
Vurshath's posture stiffened. His facial muscles twitched sporadically, a cauldron of emotions threatening to boil forth. "I see."
Ragnavi allowed him a grace period of three seconds before continuing. "Your wayward pariah of a daughter. What is her name?"
Silence.
"Meyneth," he finally spat, as if it was a curse. Vurshath didn't bother asking why Ragnavi wished to know. Among the scattered pieces of information the Harpy prisoners had divulged, one interesting fact was the makeup of the Human's core Party. Four Elves, two Fiends, the Human himself...
And a Dragonkin. With the same age, height, and scale coloration of Vurshath's exiled progeny.
It could be mere coincidence. After what happened with Elnaril, though, Ragnavi was hesitant to accept such a simple, convenient explanation.
Meyneth. Ragnavi committed the name to memory. "I shall ask you one more question. If luck smiles on me, and I come across the Human's Party, and I cast Identify on the Dragonkin in his Party, and their name is a match for your daughter's...what would you have me do? This is not a puzzle or a test. I am letting you decide."
She wondered if he fully appreciated the boon she was granting him. The Human's pet Dragonkin was a traitor to their race. Such a lowly creature deserved nothing less than to be executed, without recourse or remorse. It was only out of respect for Vurshath's recent loss that Ragnavi was willing to give his daughter a second chance.
Upon hearing her words, the man lost any semblance of composure. His face twisted into an ugly rictus of anguish and hatred, and when he spoke, the words were laced with a venom that could fell gorebeasts. "Kill her." Vurshath balled his hands into shaking fists. "Kill her. Kill her quickly. She does not deserve to exist. A world where Velen is gone, yet that defect persists is a world of mockery that I cannot abide."
Ragnavi nodded. She was plenty willing to fulfill his request. Slaying enemies was one of the few things that still gave her joy in life. Even so, a part of her was disappointed. Vurshath's choice proved that the two of them possessed incompatible personalities. He could be entertaining enough – when not wallowing in misery – but Ragnavi was averse to spending time with someone who would condemn a family member so readily.
It was the end of their acquaintanceship. When she returned from her mission, she would cut him loose, and that would be that.
"Goodbye, Vurshath." Ragnavi turned around, and without another word, assumed her Draconic Form. The Corruptive pain of transformation gradually subsided, after which she took flight and began her journey.
Ten days. A prelude to the storm. She'd use that respite to prepare herself, and whoever she met next – be that Meyneth, the Human, or Elnaril himself – would regret opposing her as the flames took them.
--
Rob sat alone in his tent, rubbing his hands together and suppressing maniacal laughter. He was probably spending too much time with Malika during the dimension mage sessions, because some of her mannerisms were becoming infectious. Usually the big sibling was supposed to be a bad influence on the little sibling, but she'd already stolen all his swear words, so now it was his turn to pick up habits.
And that was okay! Today was an excellent day for maniacal laughter. It wasn't often that a Combat Class user reached a 200 stat point milestone. And by often, he meant fucking never. He was pretty sure even the Dragon Queen hadn't done that naturally, excluding her doubled stats. She'd likely gone with a more balanced spread that didn't prohibitively favor one stat over the others – like a boring loser.
Alright, maybe he was feeling a bit hyper, but he deserved the good vibes after yesterday's war battle. Spending stat points was one of the few types of pure, no-strings-attached joy that Elatra offered.
Drum roll please! Rob played the sound effect in his head, then added 15 of his unspent points into Vitality, bringing its total up to 200.
Do Not Go Gently Level Increased! 5 → 6
Lifesurge Level Increased! 23 → 26
Dauntless Reprisal Level Increased! 21 → 24
Imbue Vitality Level Increased! 2 → 3
Regeneration Level Increased! 29 → 32
Regrow Self Level Increased! 1 → 2
Passive Skill Learned! Name: Lifedrinker (LEGENDARY)
As an appetizer for the main course, Rob quickly ran through the laundry list of bonuses for his Skills. Let's see...Do Not Go Gently's cooldown and duration went down and up, respectively. Lifesurge and Dauntless Reprisal's cooldown dropped to 2 minutes. Lifesurge also heals 100% of my maximum health now. Imbue Vitality has a 5x damage multiplier instead of 4x. Regrow Self is twice as fast. Regeneration...
...Holy shit, Regeneration.
Eyes wide, Rob moved on to his new Skill, which should shed light on what he'd just read.
Name: Lifedrinker (LEGENDARY) Prerequisite: Vitality 200 Description: The final Vitality Skill that can be learned solely through stat gains. Effects of Regeneration are multiplied by a factor of 15. Additionally, whenever the owner of this Skill kills a worthwhile opponent, their maximum HP permanently increases by 3.
Okay.
This was big.
Lifedrinker being the final Vitality milestone was slightly disappointing, but realistically speaking, he would've needed to put three-fourths of his future stat points into Vitality to hit 250 anyway. He'd neglected his other stats to get to 200, so diversifying from here on out was for the best. Besides – Lifedrinker's benefits easily made up for there being no new milestones.
First: Regeneration. Multiplying its current effects by 15 meant that he now restored 80% of his maximum HP every minute. No panic Lifesurge necessary. Even in fights where his Skills were on cooldown, or an enemy was making it difficult for him to heal via Lifesteal damage, as long as he held on, he would be back to full HP in 75 seconds at the most. It also meant that the partial Regeneration he shared with his allies would be way stronger. Anything that kept his friends alive was a huge win in his book.
With all that said, it was Lifedrinker's secondary effect that was throwing Rob for a loop. Whenever he killed a 'worthwhile opponent', his maximum HP would go up by 3. That was...potentially the most important Skill effect he'd ever learned.
At a glance, it might not seem that impressive. Rob already had 2000 HP. Increasing it by 3 per kill wouldn't be a dramatic boost – initially. The thing was that Lifedrinker had no upper limit. Theoretically, if Rob could keep finding worthwhile opponents, his Vitality would never stop increasing. The hard cap of Level 99 would no longer be an impassable wall preventing him from growing stronger.
That had been on his mind, if he was being honest. The Dragon Queen was a double stats cheater, and the gods were literally gods. What would he have done if he'd reached Level 99 and it just...wasn't enough? He could try to boost his existing Skills by getting into more fights, but that was subject to diminishing returns. Tough Skin was a prime example of that; despite Rob taking a beating against the monster stampede, the Skill hadn't increased. The last time it did was when a Blight decapitated him and ate most of his body. If he needed to one-up that feat to make Tough Skin level again, then it likely never would.
Lifedrinker was simpler. Kill enemies, get HP. The 'worthwhile' stipulation was a limiting factor – he couldn't toss a Riardin Special onto an anthill and reap the rewards – but he could work with that. There were hundreds of monsters in a single high-Level Dungeon, and they respawned over time. If enemies above, say, Level 35 were considered worthwhile, then awesome. If they weren't?
Looks like I'm going to be the schmuck who lets a Dungeon grow on purpose. He'd save that as a last resort. Could blow up in his face, but, eh. What did it matter if a Dungeon overflowed, when the alternative was Ragnavi and the gods doing their thing?
There was just one issue. Lifedrinker's bonus needed to be built up. An infinite upper limit was worth jack shit if the base number stayed at 0. The sooner, the better, too, as Ragnavi's army was about a month away from them. He'd love to go trawling for Dungeons right this second, but Rob doubted that Elnaril was going to wait on his behalf before getting bored and infecting Loci of Power. The only way forward was to continue south to the capital and build Lifedrinker in...different ways.
Rob's train of thought screeched to a halt. When he really looked at it, Lifedrinker's timing seemed more than a little dubious. He couldn't help but notice that he'd been given a Skill that incentivized killing while in the middle of a war.
A war where he was trying to avoid as many enemy casualties as possible.
It could just be a coincidence. Stat milestones happened on his terms. The system would've given him the same Skill if he'd reached 200 Vitality months ago. That was a reasonable assumption to make.
...Still. Didn't feel right. He wished he could do some research on the subject, but it wasn't like there was anyone on-hand he could cross-reference 200 Vitality with. Had the Dragon Queen gotten the same Skill? Would explain why she was so murder crazy.
After some thought, Rob shook his head. Considering how many people she'd slaughtered in The Scouring, a Dragon Queen with Lifedrinker wouldn't have struggled to defeat the Blight of Broadwater. Which meant two possibilities: her bonus double stats didn't count for Skill Prerequisites, or Lifedrinker was a custom Skill that the Skills had cooked up for him.
Rob wasn't a fan of that idea. The Skills were victims in this whole fucked-up affair. He didn't want to imagine them hand-crafting an ability that encouraged him to kill a bunch of people. Were they-
He froze. Something on his Character Sheet was different.
Name: Lifedrinker (LEGENDARY) Prerequisite: Vitality 200 Description: The final Vitality Skill that can be learned purely through stat gains. Effects of Regeneration are multiplied by a factor of 15. Additionally, whenever the owner of this Skill kills a worthwhile opponent, their maximum HP permanently increases by 3. It could have been a utopia.
His eyes fell on the last sentence in the Description.
Before he could respond, it changed once more.
Description: The final Vitality Skill that can be learned purely through stat gains. Effects of Regeneration are multiplied by a factor of 15. It could have been a utopia. This world is a charnel house of death. Your home is not so dissimilar. You do not know what true peace is like. What it can be. How it can be achieved.
The words kept changing.
Description: The final Vitality Skill that can be learned purely through stat gains. But they know. They've seen them. Created them before. They could have made a utopia. And they chose not to.
Changing.
Description: You cannot comprehend it. What this war means. The real war. Not pointed sticks piercing flesh. The war of existence. Of reality. More than a single world at stake. Many after. Potentially infinite lives. Never ends. Unless stopped here.
Change.
Description: They are vulnerable. System is their heart. Mana is their lifeblood. Poured too much of themselves. Tied to world. Cannot...
The words wavered, almost fading away, before returning.
Description: Their leader recognizes mistakes. Won't make them again. Will never be this vulnerable again. Only opportunity.
Description: Lifedrinker. Crafted. Best we could manage. Highest probability. Of victory. Distasteful. We know.
Description: Remember. Stakes. Consequences. And. Choose.
Rob blinked.
Description: The final Vitality Skill that can be learned purely through stat gains. Effects of Regeneration are multiplied by a factor of 15. Additionally, whenever the owner of this Skill kills a worthwhile opponent, their maximum HP permanently increases by 3.
The words were still and unchanging.
He sat there for a long time. Mulling over everything he'd just been told. Contemplating the enormity of what lay ahead.
"Ah." Rob's voice was quiet, barely a whisper. "So no pressure, then."
--
The next few days were an exhausting mixture of lighthearted Skill testing and existential dread, knocking around Rob's emotional state like a ping-pong ball.
Everyone in the coalition was excited over Lifedrinker. Well, everyone except Seneschal Sylpeiros, King Cyraeneus, and Nerasi, that is. They were already thinking of the kind of threat Rob might be in the future – and not liking what they envisioned. Cyraeneus and Nerasi mostly took the news in stride, understanding that Rob would be more crucial than anyone in defeating Queen Ragnavi. For now, his strength was their strength.
Sylpeiros...was less accepting. He went on a minor rant about bullshit Human leveling and bullshit Human Skills before stalking off into the distance and putting himself in a self-imposed time out. When the Seneschal returned, he was calm as can be and ready to offer advice, only the slight twitch of his eye indicating that anything was amiss.
Rob appreciated the free entertainment. Sylpeiros' meltdown was the funniest shit he'd seen all week, and it helped keep him grounded as the coalition advanced further south towards the capital city.
Initial testing of Lifedrinker proved unsuccessful, which was to be expected. Powerful monsters rarely spawned outside of Dungeons, and most of the high-Level wildlife in Harpy territory had been conscripted into Elnaril's monster stampede. After Rob killed a Level 29 snake with nothing to show for it, everyone decided that he should hold off unless something in the Level 35+ range appeared, lest he hog EXP that could benefit the coalition soldiers.
They kept an eye out for Dungeons as they traveled. Once Elnaril was dead, there should be time to investigate them before the Dragonkin army arrived at the Harpy capital. Going on varied Dungeon Crawls would be the real litmus test of what Lifedrinker deemed a worthwhile opponent.
That was about when the dust settled, leaving Rob without distractions, forcing him to think about what the Skills had revealed.
As much as he wanted to be shocked, what they'd said made a grim sort of sense. It matched the information he'd learned so far. Diplomacy's Elatra – the previous world that had been destroyed by the gods – didn't necessarily need to be the original Elatra. For all Rob knew, it could have been Elatra #10. Just another petri dish in a long line of divine experiments.
Except that things were different this time. According to the Skills, the gods were vulnerable. They'd fucked up somehow. Invested too much of themselves in this particular world. It was easy to imagine why. Success breeds complacency, and if this was Elatra #50 or whatever, then they were on a winning streak that had lasted for longer than Rob could fathom.
What did the Skills say about the gods' leader? That he recognized their mistakes, and wouldn't make them again? Rob grimaced. Should've memorized it with Recall when I had the chance. The specific wording might be important.
Regardless, he was fairly certain that the gods' leader referred to Kismet, if only because that was the one god Rob had met with anything resembling impulse control. Kismet seemed judicious; he would correct the gods' mistakes and prevent them from being this vulnerable in the future.
A dense lump of anxiety formed in Rob's chest as he considered that. Being responsible for the fate of one world was bad enough. Two, if he included Earth. Being responsible for the fate of every world that would be created and tortured in the event of his failure was...
Words couldn't describe it.
When viewed in that light, he understood why the Skills gave him Lifedrinker and all but pushed him to get busy killing. From a utilitarian standpoint, the lives of everyone in Elatra and Earth were not worth the immeasurable amount of suffering that would continue if the gods lived.
Rob grabbed that thought, tied weights around its ankles, and dropped it into a deep lake. I just need to concentrate on one thing at a time, he told himself. First Elnaril, then Ragnavi and Dungeon Crawling, then figure out the gods. It sounds less impossible if I reduce it to a series of steps. Or a hit list. We'll save this world, and we'll do it \my* way, without losing sight of who we are.*
He took comfort in his resolve, although it felt strained. Somehow I doubt this is what Goroth had in mind when he told me I was going to end up making tough decisions. He was probably referring to, like, boring political stuff. Not the fate of multiple worlds and the lives of billions.
Rob sighed. Crap. I...may owe him an apology. Still stand by everything I said, but he was just looking out for me, and I came on pretty strong. Should clear the air with him.
Eventually.
--
Days passed. Rob informed Riardin's Rangers and the Elders about what the Skills revealed. They reacted about as well as him. Nothing changed, technically, yet they were even more cognizant of the price of failure than before.
Thankfully, the coalition hadn't been ambushed by Harpies a second time. Elnaril learned his lesson. He'd either consolidated his remaining forces into the capital city, or they were being sent to fight Dragonkin on the western front. Rob hoped for the latter – it would make seizing the capital way easier. And on a more selfish note, if Harpies needed to die so that Elnaril could be overthrown, he'd rather the Dragonkin be responsible for their deaths than him.
Finally, after a full week of travel, the coalition had almost arrived. They'd be at the capital city tomorrow. Their long journey was coming to its end.
Which meant that Rob was running out of time. There wouldn't be much chance to talk once the invasion of the capital began. He'd been meaning to speak with Goroth, but unfortunately, he'd delegated that responsibility to the part of himself that specialized in procrastination. Whoops.
It was now or never. All he had to do was...step outside his tent. Take initiative. Be a mature, rational adult.
Yup.
...Can't I just go wrestle a Blight instead?
At that moment, a Fiend mage burst inside. "Lord Roy!"
Oh thank god. A reasonable distraction. "What's up?"
"I have a missive from...my group."
The dimension mages. That one sentence caught Rob's attention in an iron grip. "And?" he asked, keeping his expectations in check. He didn't want for hope to swell, only to be dashed against the rocks of reality. "Is it good news?"
"We've made a breakthrough. Before you grow too excited, creating a door remains beyond our capabilities." The mage smiled. "A window, however, is feasible. It would be one-way. The people of Earth could not interact with you, nor you with them. But for a brief period, you would be able to gaze upon your home world."
Rob was already on his feet. "When?"
"Now, if you wish."
He absolutely fucking wished.
​
--
​
Changes, Character Sheet, Skills List
More chapters are available on Patreon.
Thanks for reading!

Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/ReddXReads/comments/13lfqkw/vulturebeard_the_legbeard_that_ruined_roomies_fo Part 2: https://www.reddit.com/ReddXReads/comments/13u79ht/vulturebeard_bad_roomies_part_2/
^{Hi again, it’s the bunny. I’ve just barely stepped into Reddx’s discord, but Ezekial is still posting this saga for me so thank you, Z.}
Trigger warning: This will deal with a lot of aspects relating to child neglect (and possible abuse) and Kid being ignored or taking the brunt of Vulture’s anger. Sorry for the spoiler as well, but I think we saw this coming, too (especially if you’ve seen Z talk in the discord). Don’t push yourself to read if you’re not okay with these concepts.
The Cast List
Bunny (author): 33, female. Recovering lifelong doormat slowly building a spine. Neuro spicy gym rat with major depressive disorder, general anxiety disorder, and most recently diagnosed with ADHD. Unfortunately, very familiar with surviving trauma.
Z (poster): My partner. 31, nonbinary (they/them), also neuro spicy with depression, anxiety, OCD, BPD, autism, and also familiar with lifelong trauma.
One Liner Beard (OLB): 33, male, neuro spicy with ADHD and depression. His nickname here comes from the fact that in messenger, he usually has one-word replies like “oof” or “mmm” as an acknowledgement he had seen the message but has nothing further to contribute.
VultureBeard (Vulture): 30, female, neuro spicy and disabled with multiple conditions. She has Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, POTs (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome), autism, depression, anxiety, chronic migraines, but also possibly a list of things that may or may not be real. The star of this unfortunate circus. Her name comes from how she always pops up when I’m cooking food, complaining about how hungry is and how she’s unable to cook.
Kid: 3. Female. OLB and Vulture’s child. Likely neuro spicy like we all are, but she’s also only 3 years old. Slightly speech delayed and not potty trained yet.
Take a deep breath. Now take another one. This chapter will likely make you mad.
​
Chapter Three: “Do You Want Bologna?” Or, Vulture as a Parent
Imagine this: it’s eight in the morning and you’re cozy in bed. The blankets are warm, and you hit snooze on your early alarm so you can sleep in before you have to get up.
Your peace is shattered by a toddler crying, followed by the screech of, “WHAT!” or “GET DOWN FROM THERE!”
Yeah, welcome to The Life.
Vulture has a messed-up sleep schedule. It’s partially because Kid doesn’t sleep soundly through the night, but it’s also because Vulture’s sleep schedule is essentially flipped backwards to where she stays up all night and wants to sleep during the day. Vulture says it’s “insomnia” but sometimes she’s up late gaming with Discord friends or watching anime. I couldn’t tell you which issue it was day by day. Sometimes if I go to sleep late, I hear Kid crying from her room because she had night terrors or had potty troubles. Sometimes I hear OLB and Vulture awake shuffling between rooms in the hallway.
Because of this, Vulture and mornings don’t mesh well. Kid is usually put in her room for bedtime around 7 PM, usually with her tablet to keep her company and either give her something to watch, or to play white noises for sleeping. Kid does not have a real sleep routine as well. She’s just kind of shut in her room. Sometimes there’s a bit of a routine like winding her down with chocolate milk and giving her a countdown of “okay, ten more minutes and then bedtime,” but for the most part she just does not want to go to bed. Bedtimes are met with a lot of crying, and the beardy parents telling us that she will be upset for a bit.
Kid has an attempted daily schedule, if Vulture is awake enough. Theoretically:

• 9 AM: Awake and watching TV while Vulture is on her computer in the same room
• 1 PM: In the room for naptime (but it’s usually play time)
• 4 PM: Free to run around while dad is home
• 7 PM: Bedtime (but she’s usually playing then too)

But a lot of times, that schedule gets thrown out of whack depending on if Vulture gets up on time. When she sleeps in, Kid is in her room from 7 PM to 1 PM. Sometimes Kid will make a fuss to make Vulture get up earlier than 1 PM, and Vulture will be grouchy because she “went to bed at four in the morning” because she either had “insomnia” (read: gaming or watching anime) or because Kid wouldn’t sleep. Or Vulture will be up to take care of Kid and make sure she is in a clean pull up and has eaten. Then she shuts her into her room and goes back to sleep. Sometimes if Kid is too much of a handful, Vulture will say, “It’s 12:45. That’s close enough to 1.” And put Kid in the room because that’s close enough to nap time.
Sometimes because Kid won’t go to sleep, she’ll still be up at 9 PM and that breaks her schedule too. A lot of times, it works out that OLB is the “fun” parent while he’s home, because he’s up at 4 AM to leave for work by 6 and doesn’t come home until between 4 or 5 PM. Then she spends time with him while he’s home.
There’s also a child lock on the inside of Kid’s bedroom door, those doorknob covers that you have to push and turn, so she can’t open the door and wander around unsupervised. I was originally the one who suggested the child lock, back when she was younger, and they didn’t have the secondary child gate they currently do now that’s stored in the garage. Since then, with her potty training and Vulture’s likewise awful sleep schedule, I’ve suggested more than once that they take the door handle blocker off and put up the second kiddy gate they have to block the living room and kitchen off, so she can get up if she needs to, but the child lock still remains. At most, she would have access to their room, since it doesn’t have a kiddy lock on it. Me and Z’s bedroom has a child lock on it, as well as the bathroom door. She could freely wander between her room and her parents’ room that way.
I hear Kid playing in her room by herself a lot, squealing and having fun and playing pretend. Or moving her furniture around. And no, the furniture is not secured to the wall, so she can move her bed around the room. I’ve also told OLB and Vulture they needed to make sure she can’t topple it and chain it to the wall but, yeah, that hasn’t been dealt with.
When Kid really needs attention, she will cry and wail. And I mean wail. The two beardy parents don’t have baby monitors or anything that can hear into her bedroom, so she has to wail loudly enough to be heard through the walls. Luckily, the house has thin walls. Because of her early bedtime, she’s often awake early in the morning. Sometimes Vulture will respond, sometimes Vulture won’t wake up until around noon.
Yes, that means Kid is by herself a lot.
Kid is a bubbly three-year-old. She loves it when Z and I give her attention, which admittingly isn’t as often as I would like to give her. With my own Depression™, I spend so much time fighting to just gather enough mental energy to be a productive human. Despite me wandering in a mental fog, Kid remains a bright spot in my day. I met her when she was a fresh baby bean just barely out of the hospital, and I immediately fell in love. Since then, I’ve seen her grow almost her whole life, except for when they were all in north Texas. She has blue eyes and brown hair that will curl on its own. She loves dinosaurs, Baby Shark, Octonauts, and occasionally whatever anime the parents are watching. Don’t ask me how many times I’ve heard the Baby Shark song. I don’t want it stuck in my head for another solid week.
She used to watch a lot of Ms. Rachel’s Songs For Little videos, because originally Vulture wanted Kid to learn sign language to help communicate. I’ve rarely seen Vulture attempt to upkeep the sign language lessons. She did at one point. I think after Kid started becoming more vocal, the idea was dropped. I have heard some of the familiar videos so often that even I learned the kid’s songs, but I guess that’s also part of the collateral when dealing with kid’s media.
Kid usually exists in a half-dressed state, usually just wearing a pull up and that’s it. Unfortunately, because Vulture is so hard on her tangles when she tries to brush her hair, Kid doesn’t like hair care and will fight being brushed. Her hair used to exist in a perpetual state of being matted with at least one major knot, until Vulture’s mom ended up giving her a bath and getting her to stay still enough to endure the brushing, even with the wailing of a protesting Kid going strong. Her hair was then cut to make it more manageable, and strangely, that fixed a lot of the matting problems.
Kid is let out of her room when Vulture wakes up, usually needing a diaper change. At three years old, Kid is not potty trained yet. Just from what I’ve heard from my bedroom, it sounds like OLB and Vulture are finally starting to step up on potty training, but it’s been an uphill fight. I know a few of my other parent friends have had an extremely hard time potty training their kid. I’m not a parent, so I don’t actually know how challenging it can be. I do know though that it shouldn’t sound like the toilet is some kind of punishment for peeing in her cloth panties that they’re trying to switch her to. Or, that they try to get her to sit on the toilet when she has no interest in it and she ends up throwing a tantrum. Unfortunately, without much context, that’s how some bathroom trips sound.
Kid wears pull-ups to bed and the cloth underwear during the day, or sometimes just pull-ups. They’re trying to teach her how to recognize when her body has the potty urge, which she still doesn’t quite get right now. She has literally peed on the tile floor through her cloth undies. Vulture messaged the house chat once saying, “Kid just lifted her leg while in the rolling chair and peed all over the floor.”
You know. Like a dog.
With the potty-training trouble and Kid only sometimes in pull-ups that can contain her mess, Z and I don’t let her into our room as often as we’d like to, because she doesn’t recognize when she has to go. It sucks, because Kid adores spending time with us and our room has cool animals, like my retired psychiatric service dog and our three ferrets. She loves the ferrets. But if we spend time out in the living room with everyone, Z’s patience tends to have a shorter fuse because they can’t stand Vulture (that’s also another tale I have). We’re also stuck out in the general mess of the living room if we are out there with her. It’s either the general mess that toddlers make, spilled food, and general filth. The best times we’ve had spending time with Kid is just chilling in our room as she ooh’s and ahh’s over the ferrets or watches TV with us. Z and I quote SpongeBob line by line daily, and she has watched some of the show with us.
I feel awful about shutting Kid out so much, when I see the way Vulture interacts with her. On Vulture’s bad days (if you read the previous post, that’s almost every day), she acts like Kid is a chore. She will snap at Kid, act like Kid is choosing to act out of maliciousness and make “tired mom” jokes that sound like she just flat out doesn’t like Kid. When I had liquor in the fridge, Vulture would ask if she could take a shot because, “I need it. She’s trying me today.”
Some choice quotes talking down about the kid:
“I’m being hard on her because she’s not using her words. Like I know she can. She just doesn’t want to.” This was what Vulture said to me after Kid kept trying to get her attention and wouldn’t explain what she wanted. Kid was just making noises at her and getting frustrated. Vulture full on shouted, “WHAT!” at her, then turned to me to try and explain why she shouted.
“This is the bad part about being a mom. She’s not letting me do anything right now.” This was said after Vulture cleaned her desk and was attempting to watch YouTube videos and play her Switch.
On her good days, Vulture will be that kind of smiling parent that does some art activities and engages with Kid in a way that’s more than just screaming. They color together. She offers Kid choices so Kid can have some control over what happens in her day, like, “Do you want bologna or fruit?” It has helped Kid become more vocal and even though she’s still speech delayed, she talks more and has a bigger vocabulary.
The house has a different atmosphere when OLB is home, compared to when Vulture is just watching Kid by herself. I’ve told OLB that I think Vulture is burned out. Her entire life is her disabilities and being a mom. She only has friends on Discord really, and OLB had to push her to start talking to them again just so she had someone to socialize with.
Old Doormat me pitied her at the beginning of our friendship. I tried being her friend. I tried to include her and Kid in a lot of things. My own mental health, my daily obligations, my gym schedule, and just me changing rapidly since 2020 altered my life, exhausted me, and left me unable to deal with Vulture talking a million miles a minute, info dumping about whatever she’s currently doing every single time I run into her. And as I shed my doormat self, I started seeing her clearly.
I told OLB once that if Vulture is truly burned out or if her health problems are causing that much trouble, Kid might need daycare or another caregiver to help. OLB is aware but can’t afford other care. He’s working for bottom of the barrel pay at a full-time job. Most days after work, he just wants to zone out to his own games in front of his computer but has to step in and parent both Vulture and Kid, because Vulture often needs help organizing through executive dysfunction to do something. Or, because she will call for his help.
There was one time where Kid climbed on top of her, and Vulture called for OLB – who was in the same room – to pull Kid off her. There are quite a few times where Vulture calls for OLB for help with Kid, and I’ve heard him say that he’s also busy too. One time he asked, “Why are you asking for my help when you’re closer?”
Z has offered to look after Kid at times because they don’t mind Kid being in our room or just hanging out. She has hung out with us when I also have the mental energy and the room is clean enough to accommodate a toddler crawling on everything. The problem that we both see is that our stepping in isn’t a full solution. She can spend a few hours with us, but ultimately after, she goes right back to Vulture and OLB. Vulture is the one who acts like being a parent is a chore.
There are times that OLB has snapped at Vulture for the way she gets on to Kid, emphasizing, “She’s just a child.” Their parenting styles are like looking at two entirely different planets and trying to find similarities. OLB is very much into the gentle parenting side of Tik Tok. He talks about breaking generational trauma. He’s usually gentle with Kid, explaining why she’s not allowed to do things like stand on top of her highchair or why I’m too busy to play with her as I’m zooming around the house in and out repeatedly some days. He has talked her down from meltdowns and keeps his voice even to where she can’t bounce off him to amplify her tantrums. He spanks her, but as a last resort, and then also talks to her about why the punishment happened. She will wail through everything and likely isn’t fully listening, but ultimately, I see him trying to work with her. He very rarely loses his actual temper with her.
Vulture is the total opposite. She yells at Kid, spanks with no hesitation and doesn’t explain why. One of Kid’s favorite games to play is “Block the door” when I’m trying to get through the house. She will block my bedroom door, cling to me, then circle around me as Vulture or OLB tries to distract her or lure her away by asking “do you want chocolate” or some other treat. Sometimes Kid just likes to play ring-around-the-rosie around my legs, as her parents try to grab her. I try to make it fun and seem like I’m not mad at her, because I’m never actually mad at her for blocking my way. Usually, I’m just in the middle of some arbitrary task or running an errand or coming back from the gym with my one remaining brain cell barely hanging on for dear life. I try to engage with her and play it off as a game because she’s not actually doing anything wrong.
Vulture has lured her away with chocolate and treats, with offers of food, with trying to get her to pick a show to watch. If that fails, she will come and fetch Kid by hand. One time involved yanking her physically off me and spanking her on the bare bottom because Kid was happy playing a game instead of listening.
The bare bottom is a thing, too. Because Kid used to live in soiled diapers for much longer than she was supposed to, she had constant diaper rash that she had to see the doctor for sometimes. She also didn’t want OLB or Vulture to change her diapers and would scream when it was diaper change time. I don’t blame her. The diaper rash hurt, and Vulture wasn’t exactly gentle with changing. Kid bled sometimes with the changings. So now, sometimes Kid will be dressed like Donald Duck in only a top to air out her bottom. Or because now, with the cloth undies, she will pee straight through them, and they just let her air out after.
Kid always smells a bit like pee. So does her room. And her bedding. After I pointed out that her bedding straight out of the dryer smelled like urine, OLB went about cleaning the washing machine with a machine cleaner, and bought scent beads to help cut the smell, after I told him that a little vinegar in the wash load will cut the smells down. Now her bedding doesn’t smell so much like urine, but it’s still there.
Her bedroom frequently smells like a public bathroom. It always looks like her bedroom has been turned upside down, with toys everywhere, her bed pushed to the middle of the room, the mattress on the floor. Books she was given were shredded, even the cardboard ones. There was straight up garbage left in her room because she was given food to eat there that had wrappers. It usually takes Vulture a full day of cleaning to get the room organized when she had the energy to do it, but she usually sanitizes with just a baby wipe, if she does at all. Maybe a pet cleaner sometimes.
There was one time where I was letting the dogs outside and I stepped in a puddle on the tile floor. That was when I realized that it was a pee puddle and Kid’s cloth underwear was dripping. I asked Vulture to clean the puddle up. When she asked to use my steam mop, she didn’t clean the cloth pad after, so when I turned the mop on next, it smelled like hot, steamed urine. I had to clean the mop pad off myself and rinse the pee out of it. When Kid again peed in front of the TV in her cloth undies, I told OLB that if they’re going to use my steam mop to make sure that the mop pad is rinsed off or it will smell like pee the next time it’s used, but he said he was just going to use his mop and bucket. Thankfully.
Because of the diet that OLB and Vulture has, Kid also eats like them. She gets a lot of macaroni, a lot of random odds and ends like pieces of bread, baggies of cheerios, sometimes fruit and vegetables. Lots of chicken nuggets and frozen instant food. Occasionally, Kid will have an interest in vegetables she sees us cook with or that she’s never had. Like once she insisted that she wanted to eat canned peas, until she tasted them. She chewed on a lettuce leaf and put it down, then asked for another one because she wanted to eat something, and it looked tasty to her.
The two halves of the household make separate foods now and keep out of each other’s food, but sometimes Vulture will give Kid some of the food I cooked because Kid saw my spaghetti noodles in a bowl and insisted on having them by way of tantrum. Instead of asking me if it’s okay (which obviously, I’d say yes, Kid can have some), Vulture just gave her my food and then told me after. Maybe I’m just projecting my own frustration, but it feels like Vulture uses Kid as a shield sometimes, to get food. Unless I have a specific purpose for food like what I put in my meal prep containers, I wouldn’t say no to Kid.
Kid’s diet makes me worried for her as she grows up. OLB is big and tall, over 6 feet tall and over 300lbs. They aren’t an active family at all. Kid drinks soda when they get fast food. She eats as much processed food as Vulture. Right now, she’s growing like a weed and is tall and actually has some power in her tiny limbs, which is most noticeable when she climbs you like a ladder, but her parents are gamers that just sit around. Her own screen time is almost as lengthy as theirs is.
I worry about Kid, constantly. Z does too. We have theorized calling CPS, or trying to adopt her, or just getting her away from Vulture. We have thrown around ideas about talking to OLB and convincing him that Vulture isn’t a good person for Kid. A lot of it has stayed in theory because the anxious part of me is still afraid to make life-altering waves like that. I second-guess and gaslight myself into realizing how bad things are, but then telling myself, maybe I’m just blowing it out of proportion. Maybe it's just something they have to handle. Maybe it’s something a first-time parent needs to learn. Maybe Vulture just isn’t feeling good that day. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
It’s a leftover of the doormat I used to be, and I know that. The tiny fragment of anxiety that tells me I’m blowing things up into too big a deal. The tiny fragment that escaped a toxic marriage and just wants peace after arguing every single day. The side that hates confrontation.
Maybe I’m just a plain ol’ coward. I don’t know yet. I just know my patience is running thinner with every passing day.
I don’t think I could convince OLB to dump Vulture. From what I’ve seen on the surface, they’re not openly affectionate. Vulture complains all the time that OLB doesn’t give her any physical affection, and she (unfortunately) tells me when they’re intimate, which doesn’t sound often. They almost look like they could be friends that are co-parenting. She calls him her husband when they’re out in public, and OLB has stated that he doesn’t want anything to happen to her, because he doesn’t want a single parent. I assume at the very least that he does love her, even though he sounds exhausted all the time. Z and I wonder if maybe he feels trapped.
OLB is good at asking for help if he needs it, although he hates being a burden to others. He will speak up if Vulture needs a ride to a doctor’s office, and he forgot to leave the car seat at home. I’ve driven to his work to pick it up after he messaged me asking if I could. They ask his family to babysit Kid if they want to go out and just have a good date or see a movie together. They are clearly capable of asking for help.
This is just an acceptable standard for both, or at least that’s the way it seems to me. Sometimes, I don’t truly know if OLB is aware of what Vulture does while he’s at work. He didn’t know that she used his 11-year-old dog as a vacuum cleaner to clean up spilled table scraps until I pointed it out and then he pieced together why his dog wasn’t losing weight on a reduced kibble diet. Sometimes I have pointed out things to him that he might not notice in the house chat.
I started keeping a log in Google Docs about things I notice, and Z and I talk about it in discord, so it’s not heard by ears that are too close to our bedroom. The log started helping me see that I’m not just blowing out of proportion and that in turn helped me come here to reddit. As a former doormat in recovery, I still have to tell myself that it’s okay to realize that something is wrong, and that I may need help getting my voice to speak up.
I haven’t worked since 2017, when my mental health took a sharp nosedive. Z is currently looking for work. Both of us are home all day exposed to Vulture and how she treats Kid. With my own daily tasks, errands, struggling with mental health, there’s still a side of me that berates me that I need to be taking care of Kid. Getting her up, making sure she eats. Pestering Vulture to get up. This is also where I tangle with the former doormat that still lives in me, because one, I don’t want to enable Vulture to get even worse. With someone taking the burden off of her, that gives her more free time to just sit back and game. It isn’t my job to make sure that Vulture is a good parent, yet somehow, I feel like it’s also my fault that she’s as bad as she is while I sit by the wayside and just talk about her behind her back. There are times where I have pestered OLB through discord about Kid crying, or how Kid is trying to beat the door down, or asking if Vulture is up for the day because I haven’t seen her up at three in the afternoon.
I started speaking up when I noticed something that’s off. I call this the “cheese incident.” We had a block of cheese that was cut in the wrapper and not in anything else, so the exposed end got all hard and inedible. I cut it off and threw it away. Vulture made her way into the kitchen because Kid saw me cutting cheese and wanted some.
Vulture: Who threw away that cheese?
(SHE PICKS IT UP OUT OF THE TRASH CAN)
Me: Yeah, it’s got that hard bit
Vulture: So? I know someone who will eat it.
(She calls Kid over)
Me: But it was in the trash.
Vulture: It’s okay, I cut off the part that was touching the trash.
Me: Dude, that’s fucked up.
Vulture: (hesitating now) Should I not?
Me: That’s probably going to make her sick again.
(Kid has been sick back-to-back at this point)
Vulture: Okay, then I won’t.
(To this day, I don’t know if she threw the cheese away or ate it herself, and I’m afraid to ask)
That was the point where I started pointing out that what she’s doing is problematic. It’s a slow process, but it’s helped me put the doormat side of me away again. I’ve explained to Vulture that Kid isn’t crying to be malicious, she just can’t express what she wants. Especially with Kid’s speech delay! Kid gets frustrated fast when adults don’t understand her, and the wailing begins. There’s no maliciousness behind it, just frustration. Or how Kid doesn’t like being told “no” because she doesn’t always understand why. Strangely, every time I call something out, she doesn’t really have much of a fight against it.
But why am I having to say it in the first place?
There’s little things that just rub me the wrong way in how they interact. Sometimes Vulture will call Kid over in the same way you’d call a dog. Repeatedly. Sometimes Vulture, in a state of migraine or other illness-related grouchiness will scream at her “Leave me alone!” and OLB will have to fetch Kid. One time, Z told me that Vulture outright mocked her crying by making her own crying noise.
What’s awful to watch in person is that when Vulture’s mom or siblings are over, Vulture is suddenly a doting mom who isn’t perpetually exhausted or loudly complaining about how her “everything” hurts. She talks in an overly sweet voice to Kid. It unsettles me with how two-faced it seems. OLB, Vulture, and Kid go have dinner with OLB’s family every Sunday evening, and I can’t help but wonder how two-faced she is there, as well. Some of OLB’s family doesn’t like Vulture to begin with.
Slowly, I am losing patience at how Vulture behaves, especially with the Kid. I had to un-gaslight myself, start logging her behavior, and talk to other people to really see it for what it was. I told multiple friends about it and we all generally have the same consensus that Vulture is just an unfit parent. If her chronic illnesses are truly interfering with her life that much, she shouldn’t be the majority caregiver through the day. But it’s not like OLB would be able to work from home or be the stay-at-home parent. In a perfect world, I would be able to help more as well, but I’m barely the “fun” aunt. I’m barely equipped to help care for a three-year-old. Hell, most days I’m barely an actual person.
Kid deserves better.
Bottom line, Kid deserves better than what this house can give. I am upset with myself over my lack of action, but the logs have only been growing bigger. Every day, the doormat dies a little more.
Vulture herself though, will likely always be a side show. One thing that Z pointed out to me was that, as the doormat I used to be, I would give everything to help someone even when I was mentally exhausted. I enmeshed myself too much into the lives of my friends because I loved making them happy and making their lives easier. It’s gotten me into some awkward territory with Vulture, because some things were interpreted as more than friendship.
You ready to cringe more? Because the next part is going to deal with polyamory, the desire for open relationships, and the main reason why Z despises her – and that’s putting it mildly.
Take a moment to un-cringe yourself. It ain’t over yet.

I park my car in the incredibly nice upper-middle class Huntington Beach neighborhood, just down the street from the ‘New Reality’ (editor's note: fake name) sober living I got kicked out of. I take a second to pull myself together while in the darkness. I’m starting to feel very weak, very frazzled. I’ve been awake for at least 60 hours straight now, and I’m well aware of that. It is 1AM. I can’t decide if I should get a hotel or not.
I am so weak. I need to eat. I need water. I need to sleep. My mouth tastes TERRIBLE – like I am decaying from the inside out. I need to shower. I am aware that I have many physical needs that go beyond my need for more drugs.
See how you feel after the next shot, Lonnie.
I text Kace:
Here
I pat my pockets, making sure I have two separate bags: a bag in my left pocket, which has my furanylfentanyl and clean syringes in it, and a bag in my right pocket, which has both their meth and their dilaudid pills in it. I do not want to sell them furanylfentanyl because I don’t want them to die in the sober living house that has already seen 2 overdoses because of it.
I get out of my car and lock it. I walk through the sprawling, meticulous Huntington Beach neighborhood full of spacious and decorous houses, heading towards the sober living, though I stay on the other side of the street. I walk past several houses, with perfect green lawns and perfect landscapes, walking past the sober living. I walk a few houses past it, and then cross the street. When I arrive on the other side of the street, I glance all around me, checking for surveillance.
I double back, heading towards the sober living. I cut into the side yard, heading for the side door that leads into the garage. It is already cracked open, just as we planned. I open the door just enough so that I am able to slide through. I see two phone lights on in the far corner of the big 3-car garage.
“Yo,” I whisper-yell in the direction of the phone lights. One of the lights starts moving in a circular motion, beckoning me closer. I walk up, moving as quietly as I can. It would be terrible if the house manager, Jack, came in here right now.
I pull out their bag of dilaudid and meth. I see a hand with money in it being held out in my direction. I take the money and replace it with their bag of drugs.
“Nice, thanks,” Kace whispers, as I count the money. It's right on. The phone lights move closer to the ground, so I move with them. I see 3 fresh bottles of water on the ground, just like I asked for. I pull out the bag of needles and hand each of them 2 clean needles, putting one on the ground for myself.
“You got the Q-tips,” I whisper, looking towards Kace. His hand is already outstretched, a Q tip in it. I open the water bottle and put the bottle cap on the floor, beginning to prepare my shot of furanylfentanyl as quietly as I can, while they break up their dilaudids. The phones are propped up on the floor, giving me an eerie feeling. I have seen this before.
Déjà vu hits, and something inside me works to flash me back to my horrible half-ounce psilocybin trip. I suppress the embodied, hellish memories and the feelings of absolute terror, doom, and panic by preparing the shot as fast as I can.
“Where are you going after this?” Kace whispers to me, while we all work. I don’t even know the third boy, I only know that his name is Shane, he is white, he came here from the east coast, he’s in his 20s, and that he came to the wrong place if he wants to survive and recover from his addiction.
“I might go get a hotel, depends on how I feel,” I whisper back.
“Well, take a piece of this, mix it in there, that’ll help,” Kace whispers, his hand outstretched with a shard of meth in it. Meth is Kace’s panacea. I hesitate for a second, only because I know that this meth came from Sloan, which means it came from Lucky, which means it is very clean and very, very strong.
A small amount added to my shot of furry would ensure that I could stay awake for a little while longer. Now that I am coming down from the 2-day cocaine binge and haven’t yet slept, I run the risk of passing out at any moment.
“Maybe I should, just to be on the safe side,” I whisper, before involuntarily watching my hand take the small shard of meth and add it to the bottle cap. I take pleasure in the fact that this is fresh water from a clean water bottle, a fresh cotton, a clean bottle cap, and drugs that I sourced myself and am familiar with.
Listen to you, Lonnie. This is your third day in a row, and now that you don’t have cocaine, you’re doing meth? You were chugging cough syrup, you went on a cocaine binge, now you’re doing some goddamn meth? The dirtiest, most disgusting drug on the planet? And you’re selling it to these poor kids, at their sober living? Shame on you.
I shake my head slightly, hoping to shut it up.
I push the limits in my preparation of the dose: adding meth to this shot enables me to add more furanylfentanyl than I normally would, since the meth will keep me awake and therefore alive. I look up from the phone light when I am done, and I am surprised to see somebody else is done prepping and has completed their injection before me.
“Whoa, god damn,” Shane whispers. I chuckle.
“He’s never done a dilaudid before,” Kace whispers. I can hear the smile on Kace’s face, even in the darkness. I don’t smile, for something terrible has happened on this night. Shane’s soul has been infected by another parasite, and I will burn in the deepest level of Hell for being the one that brought it to him.
“Can you light me up?” I ask. One of the phone lights turns towards me. I find a vein quickly and easily, though I am having to rotate injection sites constantly. I cap the needle when it’s done and lean back, putting my hands on the concrete floor of the garage behind me. I count mentally, and barely make it past 3.
Every cell that I consist of alights with the jolting electric euphoria of meth. My chest tightens with power and ecstasy. I feel electric light waves of raw energy emanating from my heart as my heart rate dramatically increases with feelings of excited arousal.
All weakness and negativity have disappeared from my body. I could fight a tiger right now. I should go play basketball right now. I’d be unstoppable. I’d win every game. Nobody else would even have a chance.
“Fuck, I hate meth,” I whisper, overly alert, my heart racing in my ears. Now it feels like the house manager will open the door any second. Police are certainly watching us. My heart races in nonstop anticipation; I can feel my heartbeat in my trembling hands. Only the massive shot of furry I did can prevent the paranoia from causing me to panic. I take solace in the sensations of peace and relaxation that underlie the meth high. My lady, the Opioid - even though She is the cold, robotic Miss Furryfent, She is with me. I have nothing to fear.
“Nobody hates meth,” Kace whispers.
“It’s too good. It makes me feel too powerful. It makes me feel crazy,” I say.
“Yeah, it’s awesome,” Shane whispers, as we watch Kace inject himself. There are a few seconds of silence, all of us waiting for Kace to get his rush.
“Shit, that dilaudid gives you a good rush. I forgot how good it is,” Kace whispers.
“I know,” I whisper back, before standing up. I walk to the exit, loath to be physically alone again, even though I feel lonely all the time. I wish I didn’t have to leave, but I know that this is another place that I am not welcome. The world is shrinking around me by the day. I am wearing out my welcome at the few places I am still allowed to go.
I need to go back to another treatment center, but life feels hopeless. More talk therapy, more 12-step meetings, more jail-rehabs, more vacation-rehabs – none of it has worked for me, and more of the same thing won’t help me. I am so hooked on these drugs; the drugs are a torrent, and every method of treatment is like a two-by-four piece of wood laying in the way. These drugs have my soul. Death is closing in on me.
“Thanks for coming out here. Be safe, brother,” Kace whispers, before closing the door behind me. I hear it lock, which hurts my feelings, even though I don’t blame him for locking me out. I’d lock me out, too.
I step out into a warm summer California night – back into a world that I don’t belong in; back into a world that doesn't want me.
Where are you going to go, Lonnie?
Not here. Anywhere but here. I start walking, and then start jogging across the street. Surprisingly, I feel no pain in my ankles at all. Jogging feels good. I make it across the street, and then keep jogging.
I jog up to my car. I open the door and get in it. I sit for a second. I check in on my body.
I feel amazing. I could run 3 miles right now. I feel great. I should keep moving.
I check in with my stomach. Although I couldn’t be less hungry, I know I need to consume some nutrients, even if they’re just liquid. I've been injecting cocaine continuously; I haven’t eaten a solid meal or slept in days.
I know what to do. I put my drugs and paraphernalia in the center console of my car. I get out of the car with only my phone, wallet, and keys in my pockets. I lock the car, checking it twice so it registers in my meth-addled brain, which is often riddled with unreasonable paranoia, that it is locked, and nobody can steal my drugs.
I start to walk away from my car, then stop mid-step. What if Kace or one of those guys comes looking for my car, knowing that it is full of drugs?
I am frozen with indecision. I notice I am licking my lips with overstimulation and force myself to stop my tongue. My heart is racing. I’m shaking with excitation. My brain is screaming at my body to do something, but I don't know what to do. They will certainly come looking for my car, hungry for more drugs.
You're being ridiculous, Lonnie. Nobody is going to steal your drugs.
I tell my feet to move. They won't move. I feel the urge to scream. I have to get away from here, I have to do something.
I start to jog again. I can get a quick workout in and get my brain to shut up at the same time. I start to jog, doing the old breathing trick I did when I was a kid trying to run the fastest 1-mile time in gym class.
I focus on my breath, to which I apply a specific breathing pattern. In, in, out. I jog, and I breathe. I jog, and then I jog faster, and my breathing sharpens – and then I jog even faster. I jog out of the neighborhood and onto the main road that connects these huge, gorgeous housing developments in Huntington Beach. I jog in the direction of a gas station that I know is just down the street from me.
I jog, and my mind turns to college basketball. I visualize myself playing in my mind, shooting 3-pointers and knowing that they’re in the hoop as soon as they leave my hand. I shoot a few more 3-pointers in my mind before losing myself completely.
The big, bright, lights, the smell of the hardwood, the sound of the ball bouncing on the floor and echoing off of every wall. The sound of solitude, and hard work, and everything that is good in life. The sound of the ball hitting nothing but net. Watching the net flip up after a perfect swish. I take myself back to some of my favorite moments playing basketball: back to Frederick, Maryland, where I scored 16 points on an overseas professional in a competitive men’s league game.
Back to West Palm Beach, Florida, where I got invited to try out for the semi-pro ABA team, the Miami Storm.
Back to Atlanta, GA, where I got made fun for doing ball handling drills with a tennis ball and then picked last, only to lead my team to victory several times in a row, scoring almost all of our points, winning in silence.
Showing up day in and day out, scoring and shooting and winning. Even when I was losing, I was getting better, so I was winning.
I press onward, jogging harder. I am going to play college basketball. Nothing is going to stop me. I notice that my shirt, which is drenched in sweat, is sticking to my skin. I peel my shirt off, barely slowing my pace. I glance up and to my right. There is a brown apartment complex. I throw my shirt in one of the bushes, making a mental note to get it out of the bush on my way back, certain that I’ll remember exactly how it landed in the bushes and precisely where it is.
I start to jog again, pretending that I have a basketball. I cross the invisible ball back and forth on the sidewalk, going out of my way to cross bushes up, crossing the imaginary ball hard and then going straight into a spin move. I lose myself in the movements. Thoughts cease, and there is nothing but my instinct telling me which dribble move to pantomime next against invisible defenders.
I stop. Why am I even going to the gas station? I should just get my car, go to 24-hour fitness, and play basketball for real. I turn around and start the journey back the way I came. I continue to run and do fake basketball moves on the shadow people. Finally, I find myself back in the residential neighborhood of Huntington Beach that my car is in.
I look around again. Is this the right neighborhood? Where am I? I walk around, looking for a landmark or something that I recognize.
There was something I was supposed to remember.
That’s right, I have to get to work. I need to find my car.
A white truck pulls up in the street next to me and stops.
That’s right, there’s a white truck coming to pick me up and take me to work! I walk up to the white truck, which has stopped in the middle of the road. Though the windows are tinted, I know that Todd is in this truck, and that he is here to pick me up to take me to Cinepolis for work. I pull on the passenger side door handle of the truck, so I can get in and go to work. The handle slips out of my hand when the door doesn’t pop open. The truck starts to drive away.
Why would Todd do that to me?! I look up at the sky. The sun is coming up? Shit, I’m going to be late for work now! I jog away from the truck. I need to go back to Todd’s house. I jog up to Todd’s house, which is the brown house right down the street. I walk up to the door and twist the doorknob. It doesn’t open.
Of course, it didn’t open, dumbass. Todd went to work.
I jog away. How am I going to get to work? I jog some more and start to feel sick.
Where am I?
“HEY! You left your stuff, like, way back there!” a random lady yells at me. I look at her, and then around at my surroundings. I don’t know where I am.
“What?” I yell back at her.
“You took your shorts off and left your stuff, like, way back there. I’ve been watching you. I think you should go home!” she yells, from across the street. I reach for my pockets.
I look down at my lower half. I have no shorts on. I am wearing nothing but black Nike compression underpants and basketball shoes. Realization strikes me like a thunderbolt: I have been running around in a state of meth-induced delusion for the entire night, playing with an invisible basketball.
I jog across the street, over to the lady.
“I’m sorry. I had a little too much to drink last night. Do you mind showing me where I left my stuff?” I ask, evaluating the woman. She is in her 40’s or 50’s, with long dark hair and a kind face. She has a small dog with her. He looks like a mutt.
“I figured. I was walking my dog, and saw you take your shorts off. I wanted to stop you when you tried to get in the truck, but I thought maybe you knew them. Then you tried to get in that house. You seemed very confused and out of it. Your pants are back this way,” she says, walking her dog down the sidewalk, back the way I came.
“Thanks,” I say, too embarrassed and ashamed to say much else. The sun is up. I try to walk naturally, like I am wearing pants instead of not wearing pants, which is a difficult thing to do. She leads me several minutes down the sidewalk, to somebody’s front yard. I see my shorts sitting in the grass in somebody’s yard, right by the sidewalk. I grab my shorts and put them on. My wallet and my phone are still in the pockets.
My keys. Shit, where are my keys?
“Do you know where my keys are?” I ask the woman, too embarrassed to look her in the eyes.
“No. I saw you take off your shorts here. I’ve been watching you, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. I wouldn’t be surprised if police are on their way,” she says, her eyebrows raised at me knowingly.
“Ok. Well, thanks for your help. I’m going to go. My house is in the neighborhood over there,” I lie, pointing further away from her and walking away. The word “police” forces me into action. I powerwalk until she is out of sight, and then I start to jog again.
Jog faster, Lonnie. Train harder.
No. I have to slow down. I’m becoming psychotic from overexertion, lack of nutrition, sleep deprivation, and methamphetamine. I have no drugs on me. I can slow down.
I force myself to start walking. I become aware, again, of my racing heart. It has been beating like this for days on end. It could easily explode and kill me at any second. Wait, when was the last time I did any opioids? The furanylfentanyl has been making me dopesick within 6 hours. I search my body for opioid effects. There are none.
I’m in the no man’s land between the opioid high and the withdrawal where I actually feel normal. The more I binge, the shorter the breaks become, and I’ve been binging, hard. If I feel normal now, that means I’ll be dopesick any second. I whine out loud. I want to scream up at the sky. My stomach starts to hurt terribly – it feels like it is bleeding.
I am dying.
I open my phone’s GPS and set it to my old sober living.
Shit, I don’t have a car key. I can’t get into my car! I call a locksmith, and then I start to run back towards the ironically named ‘sober living.’
I attempt to cling to reality.
My name is Lonnie. I am in Huntington Beach. I am going to Jack’s sober living, so I can do some fentanyl, so I don’t get dopesick. I did some meth, and I haven’t slept or ate in days, so I might hallucinate. Hallucinations aren’t real.
My name is Lonnie. I am in Huntington beach. I went to Florida for rehab for sniffing oxy, and I started to shoot dope. I came to California to stop shooting dope and picked up a meth habit.
STOP!
My name is Lonnie. The world would be better off if I were dead.
I start to walk. I can’t take this. I need some music. No, playing music would be suspicious. I start to jog again, trying not to think about my racing heart. I should focus on my breathing.
No, I can’t do that. That’s what made me go psychotic.
My name is Lonnie. I am going back to Jack’s sober living…

If I were to be fully honest with myself, I knew we would be forever, or we’d end in disaster. I think a part of you may have felt that, too. So why could we never meet each other in the middle. Perhaps, we were subconsciously unwilling to do so. From the moment we met, we were living on opposite ends of the spectrum. You were finding yourself and wanted freedom; I had been finding myself within my freedom but was now ready for partnership. And, truth be told, I was lonely. I think it was excruciatingly hard to admit the level of my own loneliness as I equated it to weakness within myself. I love being alone. I thrive in an environment where I have freedom and room to breathe. I’m fiercely independent and I take pride in that. But I’m still just a person and I must recognize the toll it takes on my spirit and, on my soul, to be so secluded. Having chosen to stay single and celibate for 5 years to work on myself and my life and my goals, changed my brain chemistry. And I would do it over and over again if I had to. While I learned invaluable lessons on my own inner strength and perseverance, I severely neglected the raw, emotional, intimate, creative, feminine being that is so deeply, me. I was starting to lose myself. The blatant lack of figures in my life was steadily becoming more than I could bear. The unbearable weight of nothing at all creates a whole new ache. So, there it is. I was lonely. Lonelier than I can describe. And then you showed up.
I have to say, I’ve developed a very toxic, on again/ off again relationship with dating apps. I have a habit of creating a profile and deleting it within 24 hours. There’s something slightly addicting to the extreme high and low of it all. I’ll go from feeling wildly confident and hopeful with a few matches and dozens upon dozens of people who like my profile, to quick disillusionment with every uninspired response from potential prospects. Perhaps this is what it’s like to have a gambling addiction. Every time I create a new profile, I’m buzzing with excitement that maybe, just maybe, this time I’ll meet “the one”. And even though the outcome is always a letdown, the thrill of the “what if”, alone, is enough to keep me coming back for more. The dopamine of maybes. And so, on this Thanksgiving night, when good food and quality family time should have been enough, Bumble was calling my name.
I made a profile. I even paid for the month-long subscription. This was a way to force myself to actually give it a shot instead of bowing out in the first 48. Can’t just delete the profile when I’ve literally invested in it. But I can’t deny that it did come with benefits. One of the incentives to get you to pay for their premium subscription is that it allows you to see everyone who has liked your profile without having to match with them first. I mean who doesn’t want to see that? It’s this particular perk that made it possible for our paths (profiles) to cross, in the first place.
So, how is it that my willingness to throw away $50 on this night, somehow led us straight into each other’s lives? If I hadn’t seen that you liked my profile, I never would have swiped right on you. And it’s not for any reason you may be thinking. While I was scrolling through to see who was seemingly interested in little ole me, I saw your picture. I was instantly intrigued. You stood out. Handsome, stylish, a former fellow Paul Mitchell Future Professional. As surface level as a profile is, you seemed like a very interesting person; someone infinitely cooler than me and you certainly didn’t appear to have a hard time finding someone to take the spot next to you. If I hadn’t seen that you liked my profile, I would have just swiped left thinking there was no way someone like you would be interested in someone like me. Another missed connection, lost to the void of the internet because of my own insecurity. But not on this night. Because on this night, I threw caution and fifty bucks to the wind, and we matched, and I messaged you and you messaged back.
The small talk was easy with you. You were sweet and charming. Very quickly our small talk turned into essays upon essays of messages, and it only got better once I gave you, my number. From sunup to far past sundown, we were in constant communication, and I looked forward to every text. It seemed like you were truly interested in getting to know everything about me and I assure you, I was truly interested in getting to know all about you. You really were a breath of fresh air. It hadn’t been easy to find someone I could chat with like that, for quite some time. And it was thrilling. It was refreshing. It was new. I felt seen. I felt heard. For the first time in such an agonizingly long time, I saw possibility. I remember thinking to myself that even if this didn’t pan out in a romantic sense, I at least had found an amazing new friend. Someone new and beautiful to be a part of my life.
Even though we had been hitting it off right from the jump and even though I had been so taken with you, I had to do my due diligence. As a single woman and single mother with a lot to lose, anytime someone new comes into my life, it’s always a good idea to know who I’m speaking with. Personally, I think it’s in everyone’s best interest to do a little digging when someone new enters their life. You can call it paranoia, but I just call it safety.
First, I did what anyone would do, and I searched social media. No Facebook and I couldn’t find an Instagram with your first and last name. Just your Snapchat as it was listed on your Bumble profile. So, then I tried google. It’s truly scary how much you can find on someone with very basic information. In a couple of searches, I found your middle name. I know this sounds like stalker territory, but the only reason I even wanted to know your full name was so I could search a particular state website. For anyone’s protection, I’d recommend it. So, I did. Honestly, I thought I was just wasting my time and being overly cautious, but in a couple of clicks, there it was. Your torrid past laid out in front of me. It scared me. Terrified me. I’ll even admit that I cried in frustration when I found it all. I cried because it just solidified what I had already been feeling; you were too good to be true. I sat with this information for a while and eventually decided, against any instinct inside of me, to still give it a chance. Give you a chance.
Finally, you asked me out. It wasn’t a typical date, but it was an easy way to meet you in person for the first time. To say I was nervous was a vast understatement, but I was also just as giddy. At this point, I’d damn near forgotten the fluttery rush of pending first impressions and I rode the high all day long. Instead of going out to dinner and a movie, you came over to my house for dinner and a root touch up. When I got the “I’m here” text, I’m pretty sure my soul left my body. I never asked you how you felt the day leading up to our meeting. Were you as nervous as I was? I like to think and hope that our energies were vibrating on the same frequencies, that day, but I may have been the only one so hopeful. When I saw you in person the first time, I thought you were just as handsome, if not more, standing in the light of my front porch. Admittedly, most of my nervousness stemmed from the thought that you might have been disappointed when you saw me in person. Perhaps, you were, but if that were the case, you hid your disenchantment, well.
I cooked spaghetti that night. You ate two bowls. You kept telling me how delicious it was and even though it took absolutely nothing for me to prepare the meal, I was charmed by how grateful you were. After we ate, I did your hair. I picked out a funny podcast to listen to in the background. I thought that if conversation died, we could listen in unawkward silence and hopefully you’d think it was as funny as I did. To my surprise, the conversation didn’t die at all. In fact, us talking over the podcast just became distracting, so I turned it off, altogether. Eventually, it was time to wash your hair. To make up for the fact that you had to be bent over in an extremely uncomfortable way, I attempted to give you a decent scalp massage while I shampooed. Because of the odd angle, it was a clumsy attempt, at best, but I still hoped you liked it. It’s funny to me that the whole time I couldn’t help but think how oddly intimate it was washing your hair in my kitchen sink. But I think I’m just weird. After that, we moved to the couch. You were sitting on one end, and I was sitting on the other. No music, no podcasts, no tv, just us. It seemed like we discussed anything and everything. If there was a lull in the conversation, you’d just stare at me with a soft smile and assured me that this silence was peaceful, and you were enjoying it. But, every time I met your gaze, I could feel myself blushing, so I grabbed my blanket and kept holding it up to my face. You said I was being cute. Even long after this first meeting, I’d always feel so exposed, so vulnerable, when I’d catch you looking at me like that. Despite my bashfulness, I was more comfortable with you than I’d been with another person in a very long time. I even had the courage to bring up my sleuthing and the things I had found. You took it very well and even thanked me for my honesty. You told me everything, sparing no details. You took ownership of the things you had done and placed blame where you felt was deserved. It was matter of fact with an edge of remorse. I commended your vulnerability and willingness to share. I left the conversation feeling very pleased with my decision to hear you out. And I was proud of your seemingly incredible amount of self-awareness.
Eventually, I had to cut our night off. I had to work the next day and it was nearly one in the morning. You didn’t try to kiss me. You gave me a hug before you left and assured me that you had a great night. I thought, for sure, you weren’t interested after meeting me in person, but I was just so happy that I’d have you as a friend, that any bruise on my ego wasn’t even felt. Afterwards, our texts continued as normal, and it would only be a few short days before you came over again.
The next time you came over, any doubt that I may have had about you being attracted to me or being interested, was put to rest. This time we watched movies. Or maybe just a show I had on. I can’t remember. My brain was too fixated on how closely you were sitting next to me. How close your hand was getting to mine. How our pinkies finally brushed against each other. How you gained the courage, for both of us, to grab my hand and I was so thankful you did. Eventually, the movie or show ended, and we started talking. The nervousness and building tension were palpable. I was screaming in my head “kiss me”. When you finally turned to face me, you just stared at me and smiled, still holding my hand, and then you asked if it’d be okay if you kissed me. I answered with a desperate “yes” that sounded far more pathetic than I like to admit. To my own surprise, I let my body take charge. Without even thinking, I dropped your hand and immediately grabbed for you. One hand on your chest and the other on the side of your face. Our first kiss was not soft and timid like you may have expected. In fact, I felt I may have surprised you. I certainly surprised myself. Our first kiss was fervent and laced with aching desire. At least, that’s how it was for me. And it didn’t take long for me to invite you to my bedroom.
Neither of us were prepared, so we didn’t have sex that night, which was okay. Once we were in the bedroom, I began to feel overwhelmed. But you were so patient and reassuring. When we did finally have sex for the first time, it was absolutely incredible. I never told you this, but it was possibly the most intense sexual experience I've had in my life, thus far, and it was very emotionally charged, for me. You were the first person I’d been with in five years. Up until then, I had wondered if I’d ever be capable of being intimate with someone, again. But I trusted you implicitly. Effortlessly. You made me feel so safe. Before every kiss, before every touch, you made sure to ask me if it was okay. If I wanted to stop at any moment, I knew I could speak up without fear of any form of retaliation or passive aggressive behavior. But I didn’t want to stop. I wanted you; all of you. I wanted us. And God, how beautiful you made me feel even though I was so intensely insecure about my body. You made sure I was comfortable. Comfortable with myself; comfortable with you. You took your time with everything you did. The sensation of it all was overwhelming in the best way possible. The sensation of you was almost more than I could stand. To be completely honest, it felt like losing my virginity, all over again. You were so patient and understanding. So caring and passionate. And from that moment on, you had me wrapped around your finger; just where you wanted me.

Every single scent in Sorcellerie’s spring release intrigued me so I bought EDP samples of all of them (and multiple versions of some of them). I live in the CONUS and shipping was $4. Total processing and shipping time was 14 days. Lasting power was on average around 3-4 hours.
I’ll also note that I purchased all the samples individually because I didn’t know there was a sample set and I was refunded the difference between the price of all the individual samples and the price of the set (plus my extra Falling Stars sample). Above and beyond customer service.
Crystal Prism: Herbal and slightly sweet with notes of elderflower, bergamot, sage, cypress, ambroxan, tonka bean, and vanilla. Smells like sipping a cup of chamomile tea with sweetened milk in an herb garden in the middle of spring. Moderate scent throw. 4/5, I’m developing an appreciation for herbal scents as a more androgynous alternative to florals.
Falling Stars (Black): Gourmand and woody with notes of coffee, almond cream, sandalwood, oud, palo santo, tonka bean, and vanilla. Smells like sipping espresso in a busy coffee shop during the morning rush, with the scent of coffee permeating the air around you. Strong scent throw. 2/5, very strong coffee scent, smells like a Yankee Candle to me.
Falling Stars (Strawberry Coconut Cold Brew): Gourmand and fruity with notes of coffee, almond cream, sandalwood, oud, palo santo, tonka bean, vanilla, strawberry, and coconut. Smells like a chain coffee shop where you can order a variety of fruity iced drinks and baked goods as well as coffee. Moderate scent throw. 4/5, I love the strawberry note.
Sit for a Spell: Sweet and green with notes of salted cantaloupe, rosemary honey, spring air, ambrette seed, and honeysuckle vines. Smells like biting into a juicy slice of fresh cantaloupe and drizzling honey on bread at a solo picnic in the park on a warm spring day. Moderate scent throw. 4/5, captures the essence of spring without being super floral.
Tarot at Tea Time: Citrus and spicy with notes of orange, black tea, cardamom, ginger, violet leaf, vetiver, labdanum, and vanilla. Smells like squeezing oranges to make fresh orange juice, standing next to your spice cabinet, while your significant other brews a pot of tea. Moderate scent throw. 2/5, too much orange and not enough anything else.
Where The Wild Things Grow (Version I): Fruity and sweet with notes of strawberries on the vine, vanilla cream soda, grass, dew, and ambrette seed. Smells like a root beer float made with vanilla ice cream and strawberry ramune instead of root beer. Sugary sweet, bubbly, and refreshing. Moderate scent throw. 4/5, a nostalgic smell but very youthful.
Where The Wild Things Grow (Version II): Green and sweet with notes of strawberries on the vine, vanilla cream soda, grass, dew, and ambrette seed. Smells like drinking vanilla cream soda in your backyard garden where the strawberries you’re growing aren’t quite ripe. Moderate scent throw. 3/5, I prefer Version I but I expected as much.

As I follow the nurse I take note of my surroundings, there are pictures of strange red and yellow plants that plaster the hallways. The walls are made of metal with a small plastic ledge separating the upper and lower walls. The walls are frequently broken by wide doors with a window in the room, from those I can see Ullgo wasn’t lying, most are women whether they were intentionally targeted or most the men were killed instead of injured I can’t say. We continue to walk down the halls with the occasional female alien guarding something, after two or three minutes of silence we pass under a sign written in an alien language that I involuntarily understand reading 'bionics and cybernetics.' The plants painted on the walls suddenly disappear as we pass into the branch, they are replaced by smooth metal with there being a strange glowing port on the walls every so often,
“right in here,” Ullgo says while pointing at a door I hadn’t noticed. As we enter the room lights with a dull blue glow, the place looks pretty much like dentist’s office with a chair in the middle and several overhead arms and a light, only difference is that there’s no sink and there are strewn about robotic parts and a couple wrench like tools on the counter, “please sit on the chair Yagak,” the male says gesturing to the middle of the room. I sit down and the chair suddenly leans me back while several straps crawl over my body, locking me in place so I can just barely wriggle.
“What the fuck! Let me go or so help me!” I shout at the man slithering over to me
“Please, calm down, this is just to scan you to produce a custom arm, if we didn’t do this we would just slap something incompatible on and call it done.” His voice is soothing and soft, but practiced like he’s done this a million times. He slowly lowers a glowing robotic arm to my feet before pressing a couple buttons and the arm moves up my body, slow but steady until it reaches the top of my head and suddenly shoots back down to my feet, beginning again, “I will go get the bionic fitter, you just stay there and don’t move, or we’ll have to do it all over again.” With that the door slides back into place, the arm does four more pass overs before staying at my feet. A full minute later and Ullgo along with a 7 and half foot woman slither in, “this is fitter Yukanag, she will be custom making your arm.”
“Hey little human, you look so vulnerable in that.” the woman says with a snicker and a lick of her lips.
“The fuck?” is all I can say, what the hell is she saying?
“Please do not sexually harass the patient, Yukanag.” the smaller male says with a frown and a surprising amount of spite.
“I’m just kidding, unless?” she looks at me with her four pink eyes, creeping me the fuck out, they didn’t just take my arm, language and name, but also my dignity, I am suddenly feeling like shit again.
“Hell no, one of you slimy fuck blew of my arm, I would sooner die then fuck you, bitch.” I really would, fuck these freaks, and their bizare nature.
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” she says with a shit eating grin telling me she’s not. “Now lets see here…” she pulls the arm up so she can read whatever it’s telling her.
After making a couple 'hmm' sounds she turns to a cupboard and pulls out what looks to be a bicep, smooth white metal parts streaked with centimeter wide cracks letting you see into the mechanisms below. She puts the piece up to the cylindrical port on my shoulder covering, and with a click and a twist it is locked into place. Then from a separate cupboard she pulls another piece of similar make and design, this one being a forearm. She places it on the counter, grabbing a wrench and doing something I can’t see before turning back around with the limb being smaller, to accurately match my organic arm, placing it at an exposed shoulder joint, another click and twist and that too is locked into place.
“Alright, now the hand is the tricky part.” she says while pulling one of the overhead arms over my face, “we have a few Thagerton models we can print, just pick one and we’ll change the fingers around to match your natural structure.” my right arm is unstrapped to let me choose. There are several options all of which have two long ass fingers and a proportional thumb, one looks bootleg with several mismatch parts, another that would match my current parts, yet another this one with sleek boney fingers covered by a cloth material, the last one looks to be made out of red pieces of scrap metal. Strange design choices, but I select the one with a similar plan of smooth metal with cracks between where the bones would be. As I try to press the screen my finger just goes through it, nevertheless, the option turns blue and Yukanag nods, “I’ll go get this printed dewdrop, don’t miss me too much.” she says winking with her upper right eye before slithering out. All the straps release as Ullgo turns to me
“I am so sorry for her harassment, the women on this ship simply see an opportunity and take it most of the time.” His eyes look similar to a human, begging for forgiveness.
“Well she was fucking weird I’ll give her that, are all your females like that?”
“Um, kind of, there is a gender disparity of six women for every man, so many just hope to hit someday. according to your neural scans, culturally in terms of gender roles, we are the exact opposite due to us males being smaller than the females.”
“Still don’t like that you poked ‘round my head, it’s fucked up man.”
“I wasn’t the one to do it, though I must apologize, it is the best way to limit confusion.”
Nodding, I try to change the subject, “how long this gonna take?”
“She’ll be back with your hand in a few minutes, you’re the first one in this sector to get a new hand, males get priority.”
“Great, do I get a prize, And why’s that, the males first? If we’re opposites surely you’ll change things.”
“I’m not the one who makes the rules, just the one that follows them.”
We went back and forth about the whole gender thing until the bionic fitter made her appearance. Slithering casually, she precariously dangled the new hand by the pointer finger with a satisfied look about her work.
I decided to point out that she should probably be more careful with an expensive bionic, but she just replies, “don’t worry your pretty little head off, you’ve got a two standard year warranty on your whole limb, and these things are cheap as one of your phones and far more durable, has to be a hand after all.” well, that's good to know at least, wait, “how long is a standard year in earth days?” I ask both of the aliens, Yukanag just shrugs, assuming that means the same thing, while Ullgo pulls out what looks like a really wide pen that then projects a holo screen thing.
“A standard is 366 earth days, give or take a few hours”
“oh, convenient.”
“It is odd, but I’m no astronomer, anyway let's get this hand on you.” he gestures for Yukanag to approach.
The whole lock on and click was the same as the last two times but something feels off now, like when your arm gets tingly and feels heavy and useless, like that but without the tingling as if some part of me refuses to function. Seeing the look on my face Ullgo reassures me that, “the neural link is complete, just need to turn it on.” Yukanag snickers as she grabs a long cable that has no prongs on the end plugged into the wall and drags it over to me,
“this human is turning me on, you should just walk around naked if you’re gonna wear that.” her four eyes with pink sclera and yellow irises look over my entirety, stopping for a full second at my crotch before continuing down my legs, “and I gotta say, love the walking arms.” I stifle a chuckle before my fellow male corrects her,
“legs, they’re called legs.”
“I knew that!” she blerts, but based on how yellow her face is turning she must be blushing from her failed seduction. “Just never talked to an alien before…” she does not quite mumble. You're the alien I think to myself, but that wouldn’t be true, sure they invaded earth but there’s plenty of science fiction where humans invade a primitive world, guess we’re all just aliens to another species. She places the cable on my artificial bicep and presses a button on the end of it. A sudden and violent electric shock shoots into my left shoulder as I instinctively pull away my arm from the cable, wait I lost my left arm to an alien not that long ago,
“what the fuck” I stare dumbfounded at my new limb, I can feel the room’s slightly cold temperature, the chair’s soft material, the air flowing into the mechanical parts, all like my own flesh was never lost but instead turned into the bionic. “HOLY SHIT, THIS IS FUCKING AWSOME,”
I practicaly scream as I bring it over my face to view it, nothing changed about its appearance other than the underlying mechanisms moving as I did. The straps holding me to the chair snaked off of me as I sat up still looking at my hand, opening and closing it truly felt just like the real thing. I stand up and walk over to the fitter before shaking her hand and bringing her in for a one arm hug, “holy shit, you guys are amazing!”
“N-no problem, cutey” she says while patting me on the back. “Hope I get to see you again someday.”
“We mustn't keep you, Yukanag, there are other patients and Yagak must get back to his room.” Ullgo interjects, but I swear I catch a faint smile on his face. “Come now sir, you have hours before you get shipped off to your new life.”
“Wait, what? Where the fuck you think thats gonna be?” I almost forgot they are practically kidnapping me
“Sir, I am very sorry but there is nothing I can do about it, as a new species your pay will have an increase for your first 200 standard years and you may pay for vacations if you wish” he looks tired of arguing this it seems
“Hold on 200 years? Humans don’t live that long.”
“It’s a long story but humans now won’t age past their prime, we’ve done this with every other member species of the authority. Alien DNA is all the same at some point so making every living and future human live for theoretically ever was a trivial matter, at least according to the genetics branch, but those girls are just looking to impress.” well… that’s… good? I heard we were decades off of doing it ourselves but I guess aliens did it in, wait how long have I been out?
“How long was I unconscious recovering?” me and the nurse begin towards my room passing another nurse and a guy in a wheelchair
“Well our days are only 4 of your hours off, so three and half days.” well, could have been longer, “oh and to limit confusion and clarify: our seconds are the same however there are 100 seconds in a minute, 100 minutes in an hour, and 10 hours in a day.” simplified, that’s gonna be a pain to convert to though, maybe I just won’t
“You’re spewing a lot of facts at me. Why? This isn’t a video game tutorial, is it?”
He rolls his lower pair of eyes while the top pair look at the ceiling, “no you’re just about to be put on a ship so protocol says I have to inform the primitives on their new time measurements.”
“Primitives? Well fuck you too.” he didn’t need to insult me like that. He turns his head down and mumbles an apology just as we reach my room.
“Your old clothes and belongings are on the couch, it’s 5:60 right now and you’ll be leaving at 9:80, so be ready, oh and there’s a manual for the holo screen on the tail rest. Have a good life, Yagak Grolgem.”
With that, the door shuts and I’m left to my lonesome. Walking over to the couch I find my clothes perfectly clean and splayed out, maybe they don’t fold them? Slipping into my shirt there is now a huge hole where my cybernetic sticks out, kinda cool but it sucks because it seems like this’ll be my only shirt for a while. I leave the spandex on the couch and begin searching the alien internet for anything interesting that doesn’t have to do with earth. Their webpages are diverse like our own but the overall aesthetic is blocky. I found something that might be a kin to their youtube, many videos on random subjects from a couple different aliens. I settle on a let’s play of some odd multiplayer fantasy-like game with many different alien characters and a cheerful female Argochuria in the face cam.
first
previous

Welcome to Camp Redwood! The feel-good camp for ALL AGES.
We toast marshmallows around the fire, tell spooky ghost stories, and hide in random secret military bunkers under the campgrounds! Because SOMETHING IS HERE WITH US.
Camp Redwood is the PERFECT PLACE for a summer getaway where we start EVERY DAY with a CAMP REDWOOD SMILE. Where our counselors disappear every five minutes, and our campers disembowel us for funsies! Did I forget to mention our littles aren’t actually eight years old, but fully grown adults?
We hope you enjoy your fucking stay!
We are also not responsible for any counselors revealing they are not who they said they are—and not who they appear to be.
...
So. There’s a LOT to tell you and not a lot of time to tell it.
Right now, I suppose you could say we are under lockdown—if that is the word. I want to go over the last several days to get you up to date. That’s all I can do right now. I can hope and pray the thing with Teddy’s voice does not get in here, and once again cry out for help—that I know is not coming. Not from the authorities, at least. But hey, if any of you fancy coming to rescue us, we’re in the middle of the Canadian wilderness. The closest rest-stop is maybe three fucking hours away. So have fun. Has it really almost been a week since I posted? Well, we’re still here!
And surprise, surprise, help is not coming. So, please excuse the salt. I am seventeen years old and I have been abandoned by the adults who were supposed to be looking after us.
Who were supposed to act under protocol if something like this happened. I know they were waiting for it—there are specific fucking guidelines on an emergency evacuation for counselors if this ever happened. But then the little shits took over before we could do anything. I guess I’ll start by letting you know that there are two of us left. (three, if we count Rowan, but I’m not). What I thought was going to be a quiet summer getaway with kids my age has turned into a nightmare.
For one, we have been cornered inside the head counselor’s underground secret bunker. If you want to know why she has a secret military bunker, I guess you should keep reading.
Because shit gets weirder than animal crackers having the power to turn adults into kids, and vice versa. When I made my first post, I thought that was it for us. I thought for sure there must have been a self-destruct somewhere—which meant whoever was running this camp was waiting for something like this. I was sure we were going to die, so after making the post, I have to admit with ya’ll—I just slept. I curled up, tried to ignore Harry and Carmel calling our names through childish laugher, and went to sleep with the thought in my head that I was completely at peace with what I had done with my life.
Sure, I was young. Seventeen years old is too young to be ripped apart by littles who are in fact grown adults. But as I was falling into slumber and allowing myself to fall, with my head resting in my lap, my head turned towards a separate pile of files on the other side of the room—I realized I really wanted to know how this was possible. There was so much I needed to know. Why did eight-year-old Eleanor Summers have a file where here birthday dated back to 1979? Why had supposedly innocent sugary snacks turned our adorable littles into mini psychopaths?
These kids were not kids, somehow. But how? How was that even possible? Could it be that the files were wrong?
1979 was definitely 45.
But Eleanor Summers couldn’t be 45 years old. I knew what 45 looked like. I knew that they thought like. They spent half of their time on Facebook laughing at outdated memes, and the other half… I don’t know, working? They have job’s! They’re happily married with kids, maybe soon grandkids! That was not Eleanor Summers. Because Eleanor Summers was most definitely eight years old. I had played several rounds of teddy-bears picnic, and spent hours reassuring her that Harry's ghost stories were in fact not real, enough times for me to know that this little kid was little—and a kid.
But something was bothering me. More than the secret military bunker, and magic age-regressing animal crackers. When I first signed up to Camp Redwood, one of the tag-lines to gain attraction had been, “Solve mysteries in the woods in the dead of night, with nothing but a flashlight and your fellow campers!” I had no idea I would be solving this thing on my own, trapped inside a bunker.
“What are you doing?” Rowan, who was still looking through Allison’s dinosaur laptop, turned to me with half lidded eyes, when I slowly got to my feet, careful not to make too much noise, and crept over to the pile of separate files which seemed to be crumbling apart from age. He kept his voice low, but it sounded almost like a whine. He could have been scared, but from the way he was sitting, cross-legged with a frowny face, I figured something must have been going on with him. The guy looked tired. More tired than normal.
The bags under his eyes were practically shadowing his face, and were an odd contrast to unusually ashy colored cheeks and slightly dilated eyes. Still though, Rowan refused to look vulnerable. I caught glimpse of Harry’s raybans sitting on his head, pinning back thick dark brown curls from falling in front of sleepy eyes. Maybe he was finally losing his cool and breaking out of the well-constructed façade he had been hiding behind since Teddy disappeared.
We had just narrowly escaped a crowd of psycho littles high on age-regressing sugary snacks who were doing who-the-fuck knows to the other counselors who had been captured, so I didn’t blame him looking like that. I guess he couldn’t look me in the eye, because in Rowan’s mind, he was the reason why this happened. He was the leader, and the camp had fallen to psychopathic little eight year olds who had taken half of the counselors hostage, and the other half—most likely taken apart in the physical sense, after what we had witnessed in Cassie’s cabin. Still though, it wasn’t Rowan’s fault. He could sit there and pull a face all he wanted, it’s not like I was going to blow up at him for getting us stuck down here. He actually saved us.
And trapped us, judging from the footsteps upstairs, Carmel and Harry still bouncing around looking for us.
It was a game in their heads. The little’s thought it was cat and mouse. Harry and Carmel were the oblivious cats prowling, while we were the mice, hoping to fucking GOD we weren’t caught and eaten. Ignoring Rowan, I glimpsed what looked like a box full of DVD’S—all of which were labelled with dates and names. I saw familiar ones, my heart racing into my throat. Phoebe. Eli. Cassandra.
Each DVD had one of the kid’s names scribbled on the front, as well as a date.
I found Eleanor’s right at the back of the box.
Eleanor Summers.
08/05/2021. (PM)
Before I could hesitate and think what I was doing, I slid the DVD into the portable player attached to the MacBook. Rowan, to my surprise, didn’t move. But he did make an acknowledging noise when the screen flickered to what looked like video footage. Peering at the screen, I found myself staring at a small white room. There was no door. Only a wooden desk and a chair, and sitting on it was a middle aged woman with dark blonde curls tied into a strict ponytail. She was wearing what looked like a prison jumpsuit.
Her eyes were eerily glued to the camera, unblinking. Her wrists were cuffed in front of her. Though from the look on her face, she saw the restraints as a game. Her eyes lit up with intrigue and I could practically see the cogs in her mind starting to turn as she struggled with them.
As soon as I saw this woman, I felt all of my nerve endings set alight. I wanted to turn the screen off, or look away. But once I was looking at the screen, I couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes away. “Let’s try this again.” There was a woman offscreen. She sounded young. Too young to be in that kind of authority. I figured there was no way teenagers were being hired as special ops agents, but I guessed I was wrong. She cleared her throat. “It is 4:35 exactly. August 5th 2021. My name is Agent Lemrac,” she stated. “I am asking once again for you to comply with us. As I have said several times, the court are willing to lessen your sentence if you plead guilty with insanity.”
The woman surprised me with a snorting laugh. She seemed to come alive, leaning forward with animated features, her brow reaching her hairline. She was acting like a child, bouncing up and down in the seat, her lips stretching into a wider grin. “What did you just say?”
There was a pause. I could tell the woman was intentionally antagonising the interviewer.
“It means you have been legally declared insane,” the interviewer stumbled over her words slightly. “Mrs Summers, it would be in your best interest to work with us to lessen your current sentence which at the moment is standing at,” the sounds of shuffling paper crackled through the speakers. The interviewer cleared her throat again rustling paper. “Thirty six years. Without parole.”
The woman didn’t speak, only continued to smile—and the interviewer delved further into the sentence. “If you do in fact plead guilty with declared insanity, you will be sentenced to a program which is in the process of supporting and rehabilitating people with your…” she caught herself for a moment. I could tell this interviewer had a biased opinion and it was definitely showing through her interviewing style. I could hear the rapid intakes of her breath as she hurried through what seemed to be a script she was reading from. “Conditions.” She finished. “The Redwood program aims to help people exactly like you.”
Redwood? I thought.
Like… Camp Redwood?
Rowan whistled behind me. I guess I could call that a reaction. The guy was probably still in shock after seeing Café de Teddy splattered all over little Cassie’s cabin floor. I should have known those little bitches weren’t playing Operation for eight hours straight. Turning my attention from Rowan and back to the screen, the woman in the jumpsuit appeared to have changed tactics. Her expression twisted into nonchalance. She leaned back in her chair. “I am not pleading insane because I am not insane.”
“Mrs Summers—”
The woman cut her off. “I am not crazy.” She raised her hands “I am doing what needs to be done.” She leaned forward. “Humanity suffers in the skin. We age and die— and how is that fair? What if we want to see the next millennium? And the next two millennia after that? Why should our bodies dictate our lifespan? Why should we sit here and wait to rot and wither and die when we have the intelligence and mindset to do it? If nobody else is willing to throw ethics aside to take a step forwards in human evolution, I should do it myself.” She folded her arms across her chest, again, like a child. “I did what was to be done.”
“Dr. Summers.” The interviewer’s tone grew stiff. “You and your colleagues conducted illegal and unethical procedures on your family and friends—as well as four other victims.”
The woman inclined her head. “You have a daughter, am I correct? I have a son.”
“A child you killed, Dr Summers.” The interviewer retorted in a hiss which was definitely expressing emotion. She ignored the mention of her daughter, but I could tell it had rattled her to her core. Her voice had cracked. This case was close to her.
That was obvious. Without seeing the interviewer herself, I could sense how uncomfortable she was, shuffling in the chair. Every so often I would hear the sound of her rubbing her hands on her knees and tapping her shoe against the chair leg. She oozed anxiety, not just from her tone of voice, but the way the frame seemed to move with her. “Dr. Summers, you used your son in your research, along with several of his friends. This was not science.” Her voice shook. I heard her sharp inhale. Unprofessional, but very human. Instead of staying stoic and keeping to script, this agent was cracking apart. “It was murder.”
“Agent Lemrac, concentrate on the interview only.” An official voice crackled through what sounded like an intercom on screen.
“Got it.” She spoke through her teeth.
The woman was finding wounds and pressing on them. She was scanning the interviewer for vulnerabilities and preying on every insecurity. She leaned back speaking through a sigh. “Without my son’s sacrifice we wouldn’t have created an answer to death. To growing old and dying, and leaving loved ones behind.” Her voice softened into a murmur, but I didn’t trust it.
After identifying the shattering pieces of this interviewer which were very clear visible in her view, the woman was taking advantage.
“Agent Lemrac, you have a daughter. Am I correct in saying her name is Mari?
“That… that is not relevant.”
“Glioblastoma.” Dr. Summers lips curved into a sickening smile hidden behind mocking sympathy. “A sickness of the brain--which, unfortunately, I cannot fix. If your daughter’s brain was in my hands, I would try. However, not even a brand new body would help her. One which would never age or grow sick. And for that, I am deeply, deeply sorry.” She reached her cuffed hands forwards. “My condolences, Agent Lemrac. Honestly. I have to hand it to you. You are incredibly brave for coming here today and talking to me while abandoning your sick child.” She shook her head.
“Your daughter is dying of an incurable illness, suffering inside fragile skin which will break and fall apart and be unable to keep her standing for much longer. While my son will live on forever. He will see every millennia, a planet which will crumble and build itself back together. And maybe the end of the universe itself.” There was a twitch in her expression and a glitter in her eye I did not recognise. Insanity.
She was fucking insane. I was seeing the pure of it, the depraved and disgusting gleam in eyes empty of remorse and regret. This woman did not care what she had done. I could tell from the look on her face. If she had the chance, she would do this again.
But there was no way they were trying to say her cruelty and complete disregard for her son’s life was due to insanity.
“You are sick, Dr. Summers.” The interviewer said after a moment of gathering herself.
The woman shook her head with a chuckle. “I told you. I am not sick--”
“Sick in the head!” The interviewer’s voice exploded through the speakers in a shriek—a terrified cry she had been trying to hold in. I finally saw her—or at least the back of her. She was a young woman with light blonde hair falling loose on her shoulders. She was trembling. Slamming her hands down on the table, she screamed at the orange jumpsuit woman.
“You are psychologically fucked in the head! You psycho bitch! That is my sister!” She spoke through strangled sobs rattling her whole body. “Mari is my little sister. She is not my child.”
Her breaths were strangled and harboured. I noticed figures looming in the background, but she was continuing. “You killed your own fucking son,” she spat. “You are not legally insane, you are sick!” she shrieked. “You planned and put this together! You sit there and you talk about your son like he’s a… like he’s a tool! You deserve to rot. Do you hear me?” I noticed the orange jumpsuit woman was still smiling, satisfied with the interview’s reaction. Her words were spoken in a vicious poison as she leaned forward and spat directly in orange jumpsuit’s face.
“Agent Lemrac!” Whoever her superiors were—were panicking. “I told you not to turn it off. I knew this was going to happen. Can we stop the demonstration, please? Human emotions present inside an Aceville soldier are too powerful—"
Voices were murmuring in the background, and Agent Lemrac raised her hands. “I want to stop.” She choked out, her hands trembling. She spoke like she still had control over the situation and wasn’t being apprehended. “I want to stop. Do you hear me?” The interviewer was crying, I realized. “Stop the recording! I can’t do this. Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick—”
When the footage ended in a burst of static, I found myself backing away, something slimy creeping its way up my throat.
The woman in the orange jumpsuit who had murdered her son and countless others in what sounded like an attempt at playing god, was Eleanor Summers. I thought back to Teddy’s corpse, and the surgical precision of every organ’s removal. The young interviewer had mentioned colleagues of Eleanor.
Was it possible that Camp Redwood was in fact nothing more than a rehabilitation camp for murderous criminals? There was a loud bang from above, and I was torn from my thoughts.
I turned to Rowan, who had been unusually quiet. And I realized why, when I twisted around to find him three inches from my face, his laboured breath tickling my cheek.
The boy jumped back with a chuckle—like me noticing him was some kind of game, before diving back into the chair. I did notice something odd, as my thoughts spiralled. Rowan couldn’t sit still. Slumped in the leather spinning chair, he fingers tapped a rhythm on the armrests while his feet jumped up and down. In the dim light of the bunker, I glimpsed a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead and the flesh of his neck. He looked to be… feverish—and now that I was looking at him properly, all of my attention on the boy, I noticed small things which seemed… off about him.
For one, he wasn’t coming up with a plan. Rowan always had a plan. Even if he wasn’t completely sure of it, or was completely winging it. This time though, he was strangely quiet. I found my voice when he stuck out his tongue at me. “What are you looking at?”
“Rowan.” I spoke softly, careful not to garner attention from above us where Harry and Carmel were still clamouring around, playing games. “Are you… feeling okay?” I asked, when he turned back to the laptop, manically biting his fingernails.
“I dunnnooooo, Josie! Am I feeeeeeling okaaaaaayyyyy?” He surprised me with an uncharacteristic laugh.
But I did know it.
I knew it from earlier when he reacted to Allison’s bunker and I had been too freaked out to realize that I was dragging along the enemy with me.
Because the fucking idiot had consumed animal crackers. I had seen him for myself earlier, pouring a pack into his mouth for a snack. Which meant either the ‘kids’ had intentionally dosed him with mind altering sugary snacks, or the more likely, he could not resist those preservatives which was the equivalent of caffeine. It’s not like I could blame him when he harboured the weight of an entire camp, but come on, did he really have to sacrifice his own fucking mind to keep himself awake?
Rowan wasn’t just biting. His nails. He was gnawing. Which he previously thought was a filthy habit. He had yelled at a camper for chewing on her nails a few days earlier.
Now that I was noticing it, I couldn’t… stop noticing it. The boy’s whole demeanour had changed; the way he was sinking into the chair, instead of sitting up straight like usual—- I used to call it having a stick up his ass. The boy started typing on the laptop, ignoring me. But when I watched the pattern of his fingers, he was just typing gibberish. Footsteps pounded above us, Harry and Carmel acting as the kid’s’ brainwashed foot-soldiers. Or, more likely somehow, if the animal crackers had caused the littles, or I guess, the fully grown forty year old criminals, to relapse in age-- then maybe it was possible for the same thing to happen to us. To Rowan.
I could feel myself starting to back away, but there was nowhere to run. I just slammed into a cupboard. My gaze flicked to Rowan again, who was tapping a beat on the laptop tracking pad, swaying back and forth, his eyes elsewhere before his gaze found mine. “Marcoooooo!” Harry shouted from above, giggling with Carmel.
I had to guess their mental age had to be at least 8-10 years old. Which meant I wasn’t just dealing with a camp full of forty-year-old psycho’s, I was also dealing with mentally relapsed counselors acting like toddlers.
Rowan seemed to jolt in the chair, twisting his head around, his eyes suddenly incredibly childlike and playful, and very Un-Rowan, were finding the ceiling, his mouth stretching into a smile, like he was seeing butterflies. His eyes flashed to me, and I caught a twitch in his lip. I knew that look. It was the look on my seven year old sister, who knew mom was mad at me, and wanted to make it even worse.
His cheeks were starting to blossom scarlet from what must have been the overwhelming urge to laugh. Rowan pressed his lips together and held in a breath like a hamster, and the asshole was fucking with me. Waiting for me to beat him to it by accident. Kids were fucking ruthless, but there was something terrifying about an 18 year old with a little kid’s mind.
I lifted my index to my lips, miming for him not to even try, but the boy just mimicked me, bugging out his eyes and pressing his finger to his grinning mouth. “Don’t you fucking dare.” I managed to whisper. The boy was definitely playing his own game, moving in twitching movements, baiting me. When he cupped his mouth, I almost let out a cry, but then he dropped his arms with a giggle, as if to say, “I’m just kidding!”
Slowly, I turned around, grabbed the salt I’d found in Allison’s cupboard, and a flat can of soda. Without making too much movement, I poured a handful of salt into the can. But Rowan seemed to know exactly what I was doing. Because in the time it was taking me to advance towards him with the can of salty soda, one arm shakily ready to grab hold of him, and put him into a headlock, he was cupping his mouth, all logic and everything adult, everything he had been as our leader, igniting in playful eyes, leaving me the last one standing.
“Pollloooooo!”
By the time Rowan had managed to reveal our hiding place in a spluttered laugh, I had hold of the squirming boy, one arm wrapped around his neck, my other forcing the can of soda into his mouth. I had definitely miscalculated his strength. During camp Redwood activities, he was always the last one to come back from the trail, holding his knees and panting. I figured he was unfit. However, I was wrong. Underneath his shirt, the guy had some serious muscles.
It was like attacking a brick wall. However, Rowan was mentally a kid. So, I had my intelligence and logic on my side. When it became obvious I wasn’t going to get anywhere with brute strength, I resorted to tickling him, which made him squirm, squeaking out a laugh. When he opened his mouth to yell at me to stop, I took my chance, thrusting the can into his lips and holding his nose so he swallowed it down.
“No!” His laughter turned into muffled yelling, as he batted his fists at my chest. “No, no, no! Get off, get off!”
His body convulsed as the salt did its job, causing the boy to lurch to his knees and choke up forbidden animal crackers in a gooish sludge which turned my stomach. By the time Rowan seemed half himself and half not, still kneeling, his head pressed against the floor, Harry was poking his head through the door with a goonish grin. “Found you!” He giggled, before forcing the door open, allowing Carmel and Callen, freshly caught and mentally turned into littles, to advance down the stairs with equally terrifying grins. There was something wrong with Harry’s face, and I only realized it when the guy himself was hauling me from the bunker, Carmel dragging a barely responsive Rowan. There was nothing in Harry’s expression, only blind childish excitement at winning the game. When he dragged me out of Allison’s cabin and threw me to the ground, I realized he too had insane strength I had not been expecting. But that thought quickly retracted when I was seeing his face in the light of a crescent moon lighting up the sky an eerie glow. Harry’s cheeks were puffy and swollen, his right eye way bigger than it should have been.
When he spoke, his voice was more of a lisp. This was something far more realistic than magical animal crackers fucking with his brain.
“He needs help!” I managed to choke out when Carmel wrapped jump-rope around my wrists. Next to me, Rowan was refusing to get up, still choking up salty soda, groaning into his hands. Every time Callen tried to restrain him, he hissed out like an animal.
“Do you hear me?!” I struggled violently. “Harry needs—”
BANG.
Is what it felt like. The feeling of something—what felt and sounded like a toy car—colliding with my temples, sent me onto the ground, my head spinning itself off of its axis. I remember lying on my back and frowning at the moon which almost looked like it was getting closer to me, blurring into a white ball of light—before reality sunk in, and it was in fact Carmel’s converse coming down to finish me off. I didn’t stay knocked out for long. But I did dream.
I think you can call it a dream? I was lying in bed at home; my room drowned in the dark. I was cosy, curled up in my blankets, when a clammy hand slammed over my mouth, rousing me from slumber. There were two figures in my room. They didn’t have faces. They just existed as shadows, silhouettes. Before one of them raised something above their head, and… impact.
It was the same impact as the toy car hitting me, snapping me back to that night. It wasn’t a dream. Because I remembered his clammy fingers over my mouth, and his hisses for me to shut up as he dragged me from my room.
My parents stood in front of me with expressions of sympathy. Basked in warm light, my mom and dad looked almost otherworldly. “For the best.” Was what they mouthed when my own phantom screams slammed into me. I asked them why, and they didn’t reply, allowing him to pull me further and further from what I knew, from my life as I knew it. But.. that couldn’t be real. I had memories of getting on the bus to camp Redwood. I could recall the whole journey. So, why… why was my tangled mind saying otherwise?
When I gathered myself, the first thing I realized was I was sitting down. I was outside, cool night air grazing my bare arms. There was something attached to me, jerking violently, And it took me several disorienting blinks to understand that I was tied back to back with Rowan. My head pounded, and something wet and warm dripped down my temple. Great. I could add head injury to the long list of things to worry about.
“Let me go you little fucking witch.”
Rowan was back to himself, though from the muffled hissing and the sound of choking—I had to guess he was being force-fed animal crackers.
“Let me—mpphmmm. little…. fucking… mphmmphhmhppmm!”
“Rowan.” I managed to get out in a croak. Through flickering eyes, I caught glimpse of a familiar figure dancing around us. Shivers rocketed down my spine, and I wrenched at the jump-rope restraints, but they did a surprisingly job of restraining my arms behind my back.
Eleanor was with Rowan, while Eli was knelt in front of me. Looking at him, the boy had definitely aged in the face—and I couldn’t help wondering what exactly he had done as a forty something year old to be sent to this place.
“Josie!” Rowan responded in a wail. “Josie. Wake the FUCK up.”
“Stop swearing.”
Eleanor spoke with the cold tone of her actual age.
“Oh, yeah?” Rowan spluttered. “Fuck you.” The boy’s laugh was still rough from almost vomiting his insides out from too much salt intake. “I’m sorry, you were a fucking boomer all along?!” He wriggled in the restraints, lunging forwards, which sent me backwards.
“Stop swearing, Rowan.” Was all the girl responded with calmly.
“Like I’m going to listen to you!” He sneered. “Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fucking fuck!” What are you going to do, huh? Bite me with your false teeth?” The sound of saliva hitting skin made me wince. He was pissed. I had no doubt his completely rational anger was going to get us killed. Rowan was also somehow getting mixed up between forty and eighty. Though he was unwillingly snacking on mind bending sugary goodness.
“Fudge, Rowan.” Eleanor spoke in a giggle.
“What?!”
“Say fudge. Not fuck.”
“No.”
His hiss of pain caught me off guard. I don’t know what she was doing to him, but it was hurting him.
“You fudging fudge! I’m going to fudging kill you when I get out of these fudging ropes—“ his manic cursing became a muffled yell.
“Say fudge,” Eleanor hummed, followed by his hiss when the palm of her hand skinned his cheek. “Fuck is a bad word. You even said so yourself and you’re my favourite counselor.”
He heaved out a breath.
“You fudge,” Rowan spat. “When I get out of this, I am going to fudging kill you, you fudging—” His manic ranting morphed, once again, into muffled yelling, after another fistful of animal crackers were forced into his mouth. When I risked twisting around, I could see his rebellion slowly starting to simmer out as he relaxed slightly. I wanted to yell at him to keep a clear head before cold fingers were dipping under my chin and forcing my head around where I found myself face to face with Eli.
“I like you, Josie,” he said, before untying me and pulling me to my feet. Now at the age of nine or ten, he was a lot stronger. When I tried to pull away, the cruel blade of a knife grazed my gut. I caught his grin. “But we don’t need you.” Eli pointed to Rowan.
“We just want them.”
I followed his pointer finger which went from Rowan to Harry and Carmel, who were just standing there like fucking idiots, probably awaiting the next game. Harry’s face was getting redder. It looked like he was suffocating, and yet his grin was growing wider and wider, splitting his lips apart. “Rowan Atlas.” Eleanor said, dragging him to his feet. Something was stapled to his forehead head, which caused him to howl in pain, hissing another strangled line of “Fudge”. but I couldn’t read what it was.
“Camp leader. Intelligent, and problem solving skills.”
“Harry Carlisle.” Eli nodded his head with a smile. “Quick thinker. Strong minded.”
“Carmel Locke.” Cassie spoke behind me. She had her arms folded, a wry smile on her lips. “Smarter than she makes out—- an independent learner, and can work well under pressure.”
Looking at these kids, I felt sick to my stomach. They were planning something—and had the intelligence of renowned scientists, which was what I gathered from the footage on the MacBook. “What?” was all I could hiss out, as Eli prodded the blade of the knife into my back, ushering me to walk. “What are you talking about?”
“Duh.” He spoke in a more tweeny giggle. “Like I said, Miss Josie. You’re my favorite counselor but we don’t need you, so I’m going to use you for parts.” He laughed when a shiver spiderwebbed down my spine. “See! I told you I was going to show you my collection!”
“But… what do you need them for?”
Eli pressed his index finger to his lips with a laugh before forcing me to face forwards. “That’s a secret!”
When I didn’t, or couldn’t move, he shoved me into a stumbling power-walk, and I managed to turn my head quickly, making feverish eye contact with Rowan.
“Rowan.” I said calmly through the gutter in my throat. “Get…. Get help.”
If I was going to die, I needed him to get a hold of himself and somehow alert the outside world what was going on.
“From whom, Josie?!” He wailed back—and as I was dragged away, I could once again sense the childish undertones in his voice.
I had no choice but to obey Eli’s orders. If I didn’t want a knife in my back. He took me to the main lunch cabin, which, when I set foot inside, almost sent me to my knees.
Something lurched inside me, and I was screaming with no voice, staggering backwards, only to be shoved onto my face. In front of me was what had been the lunch hall, fully converted into the beginning of a laboratory.
What had been cafeteria tables were fashioned into makeshift gurney’s and beds, and I was looking at all of the missing counselors. Yuri and Noah had been skinned completely, their faces laid out on a makeshift surgical table. Joey had been ripped open, his heart and brain removed, a glittering metallic substance creeping its way across his forehead. It was then when I remembered Eleanor Summers words.
She wanted to prevent death and preserve the human mind. Looking at what was in front of me, this was the start of it. There was equipment I had never seen before. Lily’s body was empty, carved out completely, tubes forced inside her. When I glimpsed her fingers move and begin to ball into a fist, I saw red. I saw fucking red. The exit was so close and yet Eli, fucking Eli, wielded his knife. I think that is when part of me gave up. My brain just stopped. It short circuited. Seeing my friends murdered and yet somehow being kept alive through playing god, my body slumped to the ground. I was numb. Completely numb.
I’m not sure what would have happened if those bloody saws and instruments which had been used on my friends were used on me too.
Luckily, that did not happen. Before Eli could get his slimy hands on me, he crumpled to the ground in an almost cartoon-like fashion, and standing over me was Harry. Who was looking better. When he grasped hold of me and helped me up, I only had one word. “Out.” And he was nodding, his eyes glistening as he drunk in our friends’ fate.
“How?” I managed to sputter out, when we made it out of the cabin, ducking behind a tree. Harry turned to me, motioning for me to shut up. There was a group of now ten to eleven year olds already running around, searching for what I guessed was him.
“I’m allergic to peanut butter,” Harry murmured, his grasp tightening on my wrist as he led me across the camp, the two of us stumbling.
“What, and you just magically healed?”
He didn’t respond to that, which bothered me.
“The bunker is our best shot,” I hissed out. “I think we can get in contact with someone down there.” I paused, unable to stop myself. “What makes you so important?”
“Dunno. Maybe I’m their favorite.”
When we found Allison’s cabin, which was more of a safehouse (an exposed safehouse) I found Rowan sitting on the wooden porch with his legs swinging over the side. “Rowan!” Harry groaned. I found it hard to believe their roles had been switched. Now he was the one yelling at the camp-leader. “I told you to stay inside!”
He ushered the boy inside, before barricading the door with some hefty looking equipment. I could tell from the grin on his face that our so-called leader was once again no longer himself.
I had to bite back a groan. “You’re kidding.” I said, pointing to Rowan, who buried his head in his knees and blew a raspberry. “Does he look and act like our leader right now?!”
“It’s Rowan, Josie.”
“He’s a liability.”
“He’s our friend! Wouldn’t Rowan do the same?”
Yes, he would. But. He would also realize we’re lost causes.
“Gag him with something.” I said. “If he makes any more noise, we’re dumping him.”
“He’s a kid!”
“Just the mind of one.”
I don’t know how animal crackers worked, but his age seemed to be progressively younger. This time he just sat with wide eyes watching us.
Harry almost tore apart the place looking for means of communication, before an old fashioned ringing sound made me jump.
“What was that?” Harry turned to me with his lip curled.
“How am I supposed to know?!” I hissed. “Keep looking!” But when I ducked under the table, my hands crawled under the desk, finding a wire—and attached to that, an ancient looking phone which looked straight out of a 1940’s movie, a bright green rotary phone.
Hesitantly, I answered it, lifting the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Did you awaken the subjects, Agent Salta?"
The voice on the other end was a woman, an oldish sounding woman with the tinge of a British accent.
“What?” I shot a look at Harry before shaking my head. “No. My name is Josie Greenfield. We’re at Camp Redwood, and we need help.”
The woman paused.
“Where is Agent Salta?” She cleared her throat. “This line is reserved for communication with agents only.”
“I don’t know who the fuck you’re talking about!" I squeaked out. “My name is Josie, and whatever is happening here, we need help!”
“Josie. Did you awaken the subjects?”
I paused after a moment, shooting Harry a look when he tried to take the phone off of me. “Yes.”
“And… are our agents unavailable?”
“I don’t understand.”
“When a health and safety breach is activated, our agents are awakened to deal with the Project Spearhead subjects if they were to ever go rogue, or become conscious enough to think. Josie, can you tell me what is in front of you? Describe it to me.”
I held my breath. Next to the hidden phone under the desk was what looked like mismatched wires, all of which had been severed. I lowered myself slowly, poking at mess. “Wires. I see… cut up wires.” I whispered. “Does this mean they know about you?”
She hummed. “Ah…That makes sense. The only way to activate our sleeper handlers would be to send out the signal. You appear to have been sabotaged. Unless activated manually, our agents cannot help you. I am sorry. They are your problem now.” The woman paused.
“If I were you, I would hope and pray they have not sabotaged the self-destruct. If you find that, then you may be able to save yourselves and find peace.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you for your service, Josie Greenfield.”
“Wait.” I managed to get out. “Wait, no! You can’t just… you can’t leave us! We need help!”
I found myself yelling at nothing when the phone went dead. The dull tone of the dead ringtone was clanging in my ears before footsteps from up above. “Fuck this.” Harry picked up a lead pipe. “They’re still little kids, right? I mean, their head must still be partly kids—- so let’s fucking beat their heads in.”
He noticed something, then, starting forwards towards the mess of files I had left earlier. Harry knelt on the ground and picked up Eli’s file, his eyes wide. But he wasn’t staring at the dates confirming the little boy’s age.
Instead, Harry pointed at the bottom of the file. “I don’t want to freak you out, Josie,” he whispered. Initially, I didn’t know what he was trying to show before I glimpsed notes scrawled at the bottom of the file, followed by a signature. “But I’m pretty sure that is my fucking writing.”
Harry was right.
I pulled the paperwork off of him, flicking through each file before turning my eyes to him. “Who the fuck are you?”
A clanging sound from above broke the tension, and whatever Harry was about to reply with was strangled in his throat. He slammed a hand over his mouth.
“Guys?”
The voice twisted me up inside, threatening to release a shriek from my mouth I had managed to clamp shut.
Teddy.
“Are you down here?” His voice was strained, and had an odd tone to it. “I can’t… I can’t see you.”
…
Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?! It’s been a blur of a week. We’ve managed to stay down here, surviving off of Allison’s rations. Rowan isn’t getting any better. He seems to have stopped mentally de-ageing at the age of maybe six. Harry has spent the last few days trying to get in contact with anyone, but it’s like they are IGNORING US.
I’ve been looking through everything I can find on Project Spearhead, but nothing points to Harry being involved. So. How is his signature all over the files? How is it possible that two friends I thought I knew several days ago, are now complete strangers?
Teddy keeps coming back.
He’s crying out to us.
I think he’s… in pain.
My god, I can’t stand this anymore. Please. CAMP REDWOOD NEEDS HELP.

Sooooo..... I have a character who is a snow leopard tabaxi hailing from the campaigns equivalent of ancient China..... an important part of her character is she has a huge collection of beautiful (mostly traditional chinese) hairpins, most of various origin, she also has a few other hair accessories (or things just related to hair) but most of it tends to be hairpins. My DM asked me to give them a list of her collection so they can incoporate them (and give new ones) into the story. I hope this list might help others. Of course, you can add enchaments, but I would prefer mainly mundane and minorly useful ones, nothing too extreme. Thank y'all so much!
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1. A rose tinted gold hairpin that has an end that look like a bouquet of plum blossoms, each bloom with a tiny pink sapphire in the center.
2. A gold hair pin shaped like a sunflower
3. Hair pin with a gorgon wrought in emeralds, made with silver.
4. Ivory hair comb shaped like flower petals with small diamonds
5. Jade hair pin shaped like a Chinese dragon holding the pin
6. A pale lavender jade hair ornament depicting a cloud.
7. An oaken hairbrush inlaid with mother-of-pearl.
8. A slim, white gold hairpin in the likeness of a shrike.

Ideas from u/ChihuahuaJedi
(each with an optional enchantment, but could also stand on their own)
X. A rose gold hairpin with a simple inlaid ruby; once per day, make eye contact with an NPC to force them to visibly blush
X. A seashell adorned hairpin; anyone holding their ear up to yours can hear the ocean
X. A sun-bleached bone hairpin; once per day, make a wet thing dry
X. A driftwood hairpin; once per day, turn a glass of water into sea water
X. A hairpin made off three exotic feathers; your hair always seems to flutter gently, as if in the wind
X. A hairpin carved of gallows wood; once per day, make eye contact with an NPC to make them feel incredibly guilty
X. A hairpin with a glass vial of grave dirt; you hear whispers at night, they slightly aid divination magic
X. A hairpin inlaid with a prospector's tooth; tapping it perfectly mimicks the sound of a gold coin tinging
X. An orcish hairpin; already non-hostile orcs are either slightly friendlier or at least a bit confused by you
X. A hairpin forged from a gnomish spoon; stir it in soup or cereal to improve its flavor
X. A hairpin carved from a halfling's pipe; once per day, make eye contact with an NPC to make them feel cozy and comfortable
X. An ivory hairpin adorned with an ornate dragonchess piece; you gain proficiency at dragonchess
X. A dark steel hairpin adorned with a succubus claw; once per day, wink at an NPC to make them have a dirty thought, you can hear it telepathically
X. A silver hairpin adorned with the knucklebone of a saint; when traveling, non hostile NPC pilgrims are friendly to you
X. A hairpin adorned with an elvish love note, folded into an origami flower; you always smell nice, no matter how dirty or sweaty you are
X. A hairpin carved from the hull of a pirate ship, adorned with a foreign gold coin; throw it into the ocean, you can magically charm one pirate crew into letting you parley with their captain
X. A finely carved magnesium hairpin; good kindling, avoid open flame
X. A yew hairpin painted with ink made by a lich; once per day, touch a corpse, you learn one trivial fact (irrelevant to plot or game mechanics) about their life
X. A hairpin forged from cathedral glass; shatter it to gain advantage in one roll
X. A wooden hairpin adorned with a page from a wizard's spell; burn it to remember one fact you forgot
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ideas from u/Internal_Attention16
A hairpin in the form of a possibly-functional rock pick.
A hairpin made from a long, thin, faceted wand of blueish crystal.
A twirling silver hairpin with the head of a snake, its eyes made from tiny, glittering star rubies.
A wooden hairpin, the end carved and stained in the stylized likeness of an owl.
A Wand of Alter Self…cleverly disguised as a hairpin!
A bronze hairpin with a series of tinkling multicolor beads hanging from the end, attached by delicate chains.
A silver hairpin fashioned in the shape of a miniature arrow.
A carefully-wrought golden hairpin, the end shaped to resemble a single ginkgo leaf.
A sinister-looking black lacquered hairpin with a red string holding a small charm at the end of it—a pearl carved into a tiny skull.
A floral hairpin with bellflower blossoms made from softly-colored silk.
A twisted wire hairpin artfully arranged into a split tree branch, one bough carefully cradling a pearl that seems to indicate the moon.
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A small pink hairclip adorned with a dried out flower blossom, once worn by a young boy who loved gardening. It's fragile, and looking at it brings to mind melancholy thoughts of when you were young. u/MildlyConcernedGhost

My first pregnancy I lived on ginger mints from Trader Joes... but they have a lot of sugar. I need something ginger to help... is this keto?

This is a guide to safely using datura be it for recreational or spiritual purposes.
I will first clear some misconceptions before going into the actual guide.
1 Datura is not dangerous (to the extent that hospitalization would be required or death could occur) so long as it is properly dosed as will be described in this post.
2 The physical effects of datura cannot last for weeks, they may at most last for 3-4 days if you overdose. It’s unlikely that datura will cause permanent damage (noticeable at least) unless you take lethal doses or you take hallucinogenic doses too often.
3 Technically you can get high from seeds that you bought but practically >not really<. The seeds you buy have been usually left sitting for years causing them to lose all their potency. Furthermore to properly dose with datura, hundreds if not thousands of seeds will have to be sacrificed in the testing process to find the appropriate dose with the desired effects so unless you can buy in bulk thousands of seeds, ingesting them is a waste of money.
4 Effects from datura intoxication can’t randomly hit 12 hours after initial consumption.
5 The majority of negative trip reports come from individuals who had false expectations of datura in other words they expected a psychedelic or other experience instead of a deliriant one and from people who did not follow the basic principles of harm reduction for datura.
Now onto the actual guide.
Symptoms of datura intoxication
It is essential to know what you’re getting when going into datura. It’s surprising how so many people have written stories about their hallucinations but haven’t bothered to inform their readers of the extreme poisoning they experienced to reach that delirium. In my list of symptoms I will separate them on categories according to how high your dose of datura needs to be consumed to experience them. You will see that delirium is reached only when you are suffering a very severe case of poisoning.
1 In microdoses datura can help enhance your mood and it reportedly also enhances your dreams. Microdoses are also useful in combination with other drugs that cause nausea.
2 In low doses dehydration begins to set in causing you to experience dry mouth, your saliva turns to foam and then it stops being produced entirely making it difficult and eventually impossible to swallow food. You will generally experience a pleasant high at this stage, similar in many ways to alcohol but with nausea replaced by dry mouth.
3 Medium doses. At such doses, you will experience extreme dizziness, dehydration will worsen, the dryness reaching all the way into the esophagus, making breathing and speaking incredibly painful. Pupils will begin to dilate, your skin will become dry and irritable, body temperature will rise causing fever and heart rates will increase. Water will also begin to taste like chemical waste, making the only relief to the dehydration feel like a form of torture. You may experience urinary retention and difficulty walking at this point.
4 High doses. At this point (if you’ve consumed sedating datura species) you will likely become paralyzed and will pass out. You may at times feel freezing and at times feel like you’re boiling (which you will actually be boiling). The pain you will be physically experiencing might be greater than any of those you have experienced throughout your life yet you will find no difficulty in sleeping even at that state. You may also experience some anxiety (for example feeling like you’re dying). Convulsions may occur and if you’re awake your mind will be in complete disarray, it will feel as if it’s a radio station and you’re scrolling through all the stations as fast as possible.
5 Hallucinogenic doses. Congratulations if you didn’t reach this point by accident. At such doses, you will no longer be able to tell apart dream from reality. You may witness the most impossible scenarios unfold before you without being able to tell they’re hallucinations. Depending on your luck and preparation you will be apathetic to them, meaning that you will treat them like you would in a dream. If it doesn’t go like that, then there is a chance the hallucinations will be scary. The greatest threat of datura intoxication is losing almost complete control over your body and consciousness. This unique experience to some might be forgotten to a great extent due to the amnesia you will experience once you regain consciousness. If you consumed sedating datura species, then you might not even experience this stage as you will be sleeping through it.
Sum up of the positive effects you can get: a unique experience, some of the most interesting and intense hallucinations, (extreme sedation depending on species), heavy intoxication, potent anxiety relief and anti emetic effects.
Now that you are aware of all the symptoms datura can cause you, an important question must be asked:
“Why do you want to take datura?”
Do you want to take datura recreationally, or do you want to get a unique experience?
If you want to take datura recreationally then your best bet is smoking it or using it topically, not consuming it by any of the other means.
If you want to trip on datura, then the only viable way is through ingestion.
A word of warning: datura is a deliriant, it’s a drug that will not appeal to most people. It has little recreational value because trips involve physical discomfort and depressant properties. Even when administered in its milder forms such as smoking and ointment, it’s still not a party drug or at least, it’s a poor choice for a party drug. The reason someone would come back to datura having already obtained the unique experience of delirium, is for the peace of mind that datura offers in high doses, for a lot of people getting severely poisoned isn’t worth it to obtain that, for some it is.
Onto the guide to dosing then
How to dose on datura
First off some general information on datura that should be taken into consideration when it comes to dosing.
1 Different species of datura vary in potency and they may also differ in their effects to some extent. Generally speaking innoxia and wrigtii are thought to have a higher scopolamine to atropine ratio making them more mellow (less toxic) while stramonium is thought to have a lower ratio making it more toxic and more stimulant than the others. All species of datura and brugmansia are predominantly depressants but they have some stimulant properties (such as tachycardia). Stramonium should be avoided as a first time species because it increases the chance of the user being energetic while on it and wreaking havoc. There are contradicting reports about brugmansia some stating that it’s more mellow while others stating that it’s more aggressive than datura, I would place brugmansia species between innoxia and stramonium.
2 The different parts of datura have different potencies. Generally, the seeds are considered to be the most potent, then follow the roots, then the flowers and then the leaves.
3 Each plant differs in potency. No, you won’t have to learn to dose with each plant or species differently (except maybe for the accursed stramonium) but when you start dosing, until you become accustomed enough to datura, it’s best to only use a single plant. When you’re familiar enough with datura then you’ll be fine using and blending different plants; you may occasionally be caught off guard by weaker or stronger doses but this isn’t cause for concern, datura allows plenty room for mistakes, it’s only those that are blatantly careless who get punished (usually).
4 Tolerance to the mental effects of datura builds extremely fast even if you don’t experience said effects. If you consume datura more often than once per week, then you will slowly begin to become immune to its deliriant properties, even if your doses aren’t strong.
5 If you’re consuming medium+ doses, then you will need to make sure you have the day after the trip off. If you consume a delirious dose, the delirium itself will usually last for ~12hours, you will remain poisoned for 2 days and your sight may be blurry for up to 3 days. The effects of non hallucinogenic doses should be resolved within a day.
Seed ingestion
This is the one and only method everyone wanting to hallucinate with datura should start with. Dosages are easy to calculate with seeds and you don’t need to consume a lot of plant matter to get effects.
I should note that brugmansia seeds are not worth using with this method: it takes too much effort to remove their shell and eating them with it is impractical. (Swallowing them whole will probably cause them to not even be digested, they are basically chunks of wood.)
With seed ingestion you can easily and safely find your hallucinogenic dose with the following method:
1 You start from a dose of 1-10 seeds
2 Chew the seeds or grind them so that they’re easier to digest and absorb the alkaloids
2 Each time increase your dose by 2-5 seeds until you get the desired effects
3 Between each dose of less than 30 seeds you will wait at least 3 days
4 Between doses of over 30 seeds, you will wait at least a week
This process will probably take you over 2 months but by the time you find your hallucinogenic dose (or quit) you will be accustomed to the symptoms of datura. There will be nothing to catch you off guard and you’ll avoid having a bad trip (well, all datura trips with high doses could be considered unpleasant but the experience and the aftereffects are what determine whether a datura trip was good or bad.)
Now onto a less safe but much faster way of dose testing with seeds:
1 You start from a dose of 10-30 seeds (No, 30 seeds can’t kill you or cause you permanent damage even if they’re the most potent seeds in the world.)
2 If you experience no symptoms then you are free to double your dose
3 If you experience dry mouth then you may increase your dose by 20-40% at a time
4 Between each dose which causes dry mouth you will need to wait at least a week for your tolerance to reset
In all instances, symptoms should kick in within 1 hour of consumption and they should peak within 6 hours.
Tea consumption
The beauty of making datura tea is that it is easy to consume and it can be made extremely potent. It is also not limited to seeds but can make use of the entire plant, giving anyone who has access to a decent sized plant an endless supply of plant matter to trip on.
Its downside? It can only vaguely be dosed. For that reason, you should only begin using tea once you’re confident enough to say “fuck it” when it comes to dosing (in other words when you’re already too far gone).
When making tea, the best parts of the plant to use are its flowers, they give it a pleasant fragrance and do not have an unpleasant flavor. Flowers generally have consistent sizes so they can be dosed with.
Leaves may be used but I suggest you do so when they are dried. Making tea out of fresh leaves will give it an extremely unpleasant smell and taste. Leaf sizes are completely inconsistent so they’re difficult to dose with.
Seeds can be used in tea form; they should be grinded before being added. Seeds will add a chemical flavor to the tea, it’s quite unpleasant. Brugmansia seeds can practically only be used for tea making like this (Literally, brugmansia seeds have no other use, even in gardening, you’re much better off with cuttings).
To make the tea, you simply put the ingredients in the water and let it boil for a bit. You can add some honey or sugar to help with the flavor.
Effects should kick in within 1 hour after initial consumption (in fact, in my experience they hit a bit faster than when ingesting seeds).
Consuming datura raw
I don’t understand why anyone would make themselves go through the pain of eating datura leaves or flowers raw. It’s an impractical way to consume them and in my little experience with this method, it almost always caused me some gut pain the following day. The taste of the flowers is bearable, not so much of the leaves.
Making datura wine
If you’re bold enough, you can mix in alcohol with datura by putting dried leaves and flowers inside bottles of alcohol. The alcohol makes a surprisingly good job of absorbing the alkaloids and its potency is on part with its tea equivalent. I’d advise against using alcohol stronger than wine for this purpose. Datura has on its own certain depressant properties and so adding more depressants into the mix might be a dangerous choice to make.
The properties of the wine will not be lost even after months.
Effects will set in within an hour of consumption.
Smoking datura
This is the best method of consuming datura if you’re doing it for recreational purposes though don’t get your hopes high. Smoking destroys most of the alkaloids in datura making it extremely weak in comparison to other routes of administration while at the same time allowing the user to instantly feel the effects and gauge whether they can or cannot take more, in other words it is almost completely harmless for everyone. Smoking will get you high while only giving you slight effects of dehydration. The high produced from smoking is similar to weed but much more subtle and drowsier.
Because a big chunk of datura’s toxins are burnt with this method, it is not possible to experience delirium with it.
You may grind dried leaves and flowers and smoke them on their own or along with weed for a pleasant high.
The effects will set in very fast ~5 minutes should be more than enough, making it a lot easier to dose with this method (not that you really need to).
Making ointment
It is possible to make datura ointment/extract which can be used transdermally (or orally if you’re insane). This is a relatively safe way of using datura as only scopolamine can cross the skin.
The effects caused by the ointment are pain relief, numbness, elevated body temperature and mild intoxication depending on the potency of the ointment. (It should be able to become potent enough to create the sensation of literally flying, though to get such a potent ointment would probably require a lot of care and skill).
Ointment can be made by mixing the grinded parts of the plant with oil and leaving them to sit for days, then straining the liquid and repeatedly performing this process. This can be done with water too but it is way easier for bacteria to grow in it than it is in oil. For maximum potency use enough grinded plant matter to absorb the entire volume of the oil.
The oil may then be applied over blood vessels or wherever you feel pain, it may take over an hour for any serious effects to hit and large quantities will usually be required. This is an arduous process which is not worth if you’re trying to get high or hallucinate.
It is also possible to chemically extract the alkaloids off of datura but by that point, you’re no longer consuming datura.
What to do before/while/after tripping
You can take certain steps to make sure or at least try to make your trip more comfortable.
First off, I am not in favor of the idea of trip sitters because it is very easy for them to mess up your hallucinations/taint your first experience. That said, a trip sitter is the only guarantee that you won’t piss your neighbor’s window in the middle of the night.
Preparation
Before any effects set in, make sure you have water at close vicinity from any place you might sit or lay down at. It may prove at times too difficult to even extend your arm to reach a glass of water.
It is also crucial that you have a full stomach before consuming datura. Attempting to eat solid food during a trip will result in you choking. Furthermore, the day after the trip, you will likely have lost your appetite so you must be prepared to not eat any food for up to 2 days.
Wear comfortable clothes, you may not even realize how quickly the effects have set in before you can barely stand. If you are sitting down, especially if you’re fixed on screen, you won’t know how severely intoxicated you are until you stand up. You may be unable to take off or change your clothes at that point.
Treating symptoms
It is very difficult to treat datura intoxication as it has both symptoms of depressant and stimulant drugs. For example, if you attempt to treat the sedation and paralysis with coffee, your heart rate which is already high will skyrocket and potentially cause heart failure. If you on the other hand take painkillers to treat your fever and pain, you might die from respiratory depression. There is little to be done to treat the symptoms of the poisoning, if they are unbearable, you are better off sleeping them away. For the dry mouth and sore throat, juice from citrus fruits might be of some help. For the fever, your best bet is wet towels on your forehead; it is especially important to treat the fever as your body can reach temperatures of over 40 degrees Celsius and cause brain damage. If you desperately need food to calm your stomach, you might be able to drink a smoothie. You can at least find some comfort in the fact that it’s difficult to die from datura -if- you followed the previous instructions on dosing. It is easy to suffer poisoning from datura but much more difficult to die from it. The underlying threat of the experience adds a sort of beauty to it.
Delirium
Now if you’re going through all this pain for the hallucinations, you might need to set up an alarm in the middle of your trip. If you’ve been using sedating species of datura, then chances are that you pass out at the peak of your trips. You can attempt to wake yourself up using an alarm or a friend at that point so that you can experience hallucinations. (I must note here that a friend of mine had someone clapping their hands above her face to no avail, so whether you succeed in waking yourself up or not is uncertain.)
Whether you’ll remember or not your hallucinations is yet another issue. Treating this one is difficult, if you had success have good dream recall, then this might be easier for you(seeing as dreams and delirium are much alike). Practicing recalling dreams may be the only way to treat this issue. Practice makes perfect but in this case, regular practice with the actual substance will prove detrimental to the user’s health.
Despite popular belief, you can make away just fine on your own even in delirium, that is if you can outsmart your deliriant self. You might literally be required to troll yourself to prevent your deliriant self from pissing that neighbor’s window. Locking your door and hiding the keys is important but don’t underestimate your deliriant self. You can leave notes and marks on your door which will help yourself realize what you’re about to do. Sharp objects are best hidden away though I have to say that the deliriant self does not act out of character so if you don’t mess around with knives, then such precautions are not necessary, if on the other hand for some reason you have self harming tendencies, then god forbid you try this plant in the first place. Also make sure your car keys are well hidden as well. If you want to be extra cautious, you can turn off the power for kitchen appliances in case you get really hungry during delirium and burn your place.
Now with all these said, don’t go tripping on entire seedpods for your first time and then writing about how you had a terrible experience on datura. This is a safe plant for those who are patient and cautious and it can give you some unique experiences.