This is the first part of my novella, Lady Lu (the title is still in the works). A brief synopsis: this novella follows a week in the life of Lu, a poor cardboard collector who lives in Sham Shui Po, Hong Kong. As she encounters bizarre obsessions her mind indulges in and an amplified existence her body endures, she is forced to witness a world and a self that has changed beyond recognition.
Thank you so much if you chose to read it and provide feedback. It's a bit long, sorry, but I hope it's worth the read.
I.
Her hands can’t feel much now, for years of harsh tsaiguabu soaked in watered down dish soap, grainy trash bags, and surprisingly sharp cardboard edges have carved out valleys of veins and wrinkled palms and faded lifelines; they have dulled her senses. She can’t yet make up her mind as to whether she preferred that or not, because sometimes, numbness is the best antidote to incurable pain, but other times, the monotonous humdrum of that anesthesia takes away the simple joy of sensation, that which can be found in a slew of cold water washing away the sweat from a back-breaking load of cardboard. It is hard for Reality to keep her attention; she can no longer tell cotton from polyester by touch, or hot from cold. At least this helps her to better sink into the comfort of her bare stained mattress in the sweltering heat waves. They go up to forty degrees sometimes in the summer (some kooky old neighbors went out to put frying pans on the asphalt to see if the eggs could really cook and yes, they did cook) and old man Xu Pin right next door isn’t the most pleasant-smelling fella.
Still, the snap-crackle of fan blades spinning in a stumbling staccato rhythm welcomes her back to Reality. Although the fiery defiance of dawn’s sun rays has just begun to pierce through grimy windows, there are already voices echoing the halls. Some, like her, are cardboard collectors, whose work hours start from sunrise; some are restless sleepers, who make their early stirrings everyone else’s problem, loud bastards, the lot; and some are already offering their consciousness up for sacrifice. They cough their lungs out, day and night, a raspy version of a heartbeat in the background.
Lu pulls open the plywood sliding doors to let some sun into her windowless room. These plywood rooms are the newer areas of the subdivided apartments; on the other side naked mesh wire separates the exposed residents. Right opposite from her, she can see Xu Pin with a glass pipe, obscured by the half-opened door at certain angles.
“Lu! How the hell are you on this fine morning? Getting ready for work?” he says, gaunt face spasming in time with his stresses and intonation.
“Old brother, I’m telling you, stay off the drugs, ay. Your liver isn’t what it used to be.”
He waves it off, cracking a toothy laugh.“It’s not like I got much to lose.” Xu Pin laughs a lot, and it always comes from deep in his belly.
“Have you forgotten about Wednesday braised pork?” Lu replies and he concedes, laughing again, but once she’s turned her back, faint wisps of milky smoke waft over.
This conversation used to be an everyday occurrence, but soon enough Lu gave up because he’s heard the lectures enough times to know for himself, and if the glass pipe finds itself lit again in the middle of the night, then she supposes that’s his response. She understands though; you gotta do what you gotta do to instill just enough life back in these fizzled-out corpse-like bodies; it’s a defibrillator; it’s a half-plugged life support. Hers is work; her knuckles and stocky build are hard-knock strong, made for work. To not put herself to work would be a waste! She knows those fancy suit-clad men turn their noses up at her carts of cardboard when they aren’t ignoring her, but if the world was really left to their hands, the landfills would do as its name suggests: fill up the land. They want everything to be shiny new new, fresh out the oven, practically still smelling of the factories and the small overworked hands that assembled them.
She pulls out her folded cart from behind the fan, ducking under her multicolored hangers dangling on the pipes that lined the walls. Her walls are sparse, save some hooks for plastic bags, narrow shelves nailed there, and a calendar, to which the page with yesterday’s date still clings on, as if afraid to face the new day. She doesn’t have many material possessions, partially because her room is already struggling to fit a mattress and a shelf – any more and she’d be buried alive when they eventually topple over – and partially because she doesn’t see much value in material items. She only needs her fan to shoo away the heat waves and her TV to get through days when work ends early because the gods smiled upon her rival instead, Chan jie, that sneaky little somethin fast-walking to steal all her cardboard. Not many options other than her good old TV to keep her mind running: she would prop a lumpy pillow up, lie down, and stay there unmoving for hours on end, filling up her brain and body with news, gossip, travesties, anything really, to push out all the bits that belong to her. She wouldn’t have anyone to talk to at this hour either; in the afternoon, not many people would still be in their rooms — either they are working or finding a place, any place, to take a break from home. If she has enough energy, she’d get out her best outfit, comb through her hair and tie it up into a neat bun, and turn an Ikea-framed photograph that normally faced the walls around to talk to it. The photograph is frayed at the edges, the color fading to a sort of bruise-purple. It isn’t a very good picture if one pays closer attention: it’s out of focus and the boy in the picture is making the nastiest of faces, which she had told him a million upon million times not to do – “don’t put the same fingers you just put in your nose in your mouth!” Facing the wall is also a one-eyed teddy bear looking like it’s been to hell or worse, gifted to her from someone long ago. The cotton filling is ripped out in some places, so she sewed it back together, but it still threatens to bulge out of every seam. In short, the bear’s seen better days.
In any case, it’s not as though she has much money to spare for amenities after treating herself to a hearty bowl of braised pork belly a week, which is what’s kept her going for so long; really don’t underestimate the power of a warm meal. Although she has been the best cardboard collector on Yen Chow Street for three years straight now (in her opinion; there isn’t an official ranking), there’s not much money in it – she knows that. She had flipped through mountainous stacks of newspaper clippings, scramble of phone numbers scratched on post-it notes or the backs of receipts (that she saved up with an irrational dream of winning the lottery in mind), but she was met with voice mails or dismissive promises that scheduled a job interview that would never go anywhere. She couldn’t read and write either, so there went half the jobs she qualified for, and Wenhan had tried to teach her, in between loads of laundry or while she waited for the chicken thighs to marinate, but Lord, she could not tell this stroke from that line for the life of her. Her little brother, the smart one of the family, enjoyed the prestige at the top, while Lu’s teachers only sang praises of her inhuman cleaning speed and diligence for learning: respectable but misplaced.
“If you’re so good at cleaning,” her mother had declared, “then why don’t you come help me with our chores?”
Her father stood up from the stained armchair, which had been a loyal friend on lonely beer-filled nights to him. “No use for a half-brained girl to waste time there. I don’t want Lu-tang sissying around with a bunch of those snobby educated folks either but your mother begged.”
“Your father is right. You’re better off here, Lulu.”
There was no point in fighting them; it would take a million horses to bend their iron will. Lu used to think that their brains were once filled with liquid cement that solidified and hardened and cracked. In the meantime, she would do as they say, maintain peace, feign obedience, until her opening came and she would run without stopping all the way to the city, even if she were barefoot, even if the roads were soaked. The promises that her aunties had chirped about, glossy men and painted women, and the mysterious dangers her ah-ma had sensationalized, the bat-wielding criminals lurking around every corner, enticed her. And when the chance did come, she really didn’t hesitate. Freedom came at a hefty price, tooth and nail. Failure was not an option, and as long as she stays in the city, she hasn’t failed. She won’t give them the satisfaction.
She slides on red plastic slippers, the same ones the rich kids use to squash crickets out of boredom or cruelty and creeps down, rung by rung, down the ladder. This apartment is packed with tenants, sixteen of them to be exact, and though Lu moved in first six years ago, she’s still considered one of the newer residents. Only the top bunks were available at that time. And now whenever Yui Fong tai-tai complained of her heavy-footed earbud-despising upstairs neighbor thumping around at odd hours in the night, Lu would count her blessings and store this memory for when she curses the rickety metal ladder. In general, noise is a constant here: these coffin rooms are not forgiving of familial conflicts, or even the faint kow-pows of old kung-fu movies to remind them of an earlier, more mythical and therefore better time. They are stacked and crammed like kennels, fit for a dog, the rich would probably jeer during their fancy dinner parties. No, they wouldn’t waste time for such a topic, pitiful to them for sure – in Sham Shui Po, the scavengers scrabbling for scraps are swept away into these monstrous buildings: out of sight, out of mind.
Just last week, in fact, the government posted a clearance notice for the homeless occupying the bridge a few blocks away – really, eviction would be the right word for it, because it was their home, and wasn’t the government the one who said home is where the heart is with a cheery smile (well, she consoled herself, at least they will get more smile lines than anyone). It was because they were making quite a disturbance, because of all the sins, disgust had the strongest stench to it. She knew a lady who stayed there for a while once upon a time; she was always fired up about something, she remembered. That lady got up at six a.m. sharp every day to go for a jog, then came back with a renewed passion for life. She would ring Lu up, saying there was a horde of tourists near the bridge and she would talk trash about them, which Grandma Lu was always secretly giddy about. If a particularly ostentatious tourist were decked in white fox fur in Hong Kong of all places, they’d pray to Earth God for it to get hotter or rainy, at their own expense. “She’d look like a wet sewer cat,” said the lady. “More like a clump of ji dan gao stamped on by muddy boots,” said Lu. “God, these rich people! In this heat?” “In this air?” They’d have a good laugh, and a good laugh was the best medicine she’d tried so far. But staring was an abominable crime (this only applies to one direction), and the rich tourists felt slighted by this attention, so whispers of rumors that eviction was near flew around. Lu didn’t understand their annoyance; wasn’t the point of wearing such luxuries to show off? for people to gawk at? Sure there’d be negative attention amongst, but this was a small price for opulence, and evidence for one’s existence.
She went to the bridge a week later to see if any of them stuck around – that lady would, wouldn’t she? – but it was empty as a properly finished bowl of rice, dog-licked-clean. Keeping an eye out during her cardboard runs was easy enough, but she could not find a good enough reason for herself to justify any more searching, unless she admitted to herself that this lady made some impression on her akin to friendship, but for her, such things were weak links. One tear, one wound was enough; the disease would spread, and hopelessness would infect you. What she called hopelessness though, others called enlightenment. Clarity! they whispered, rubbing their hands together in cold winters, or fanning their sweaty necks in summer; as they jumped down Tsing Ma Bridge, they embraced the air, and though none of them were able to recount the tale, she assumed that flying was the most wonderful experience they had had, a last hurrah of sorts.
Palming the concrete wall surface wedged against her body, she squeezed her way down the hallway. The kitchen came into view; so did Yui Fong, hunched over a cutting board, who always said ‘early bird gets the worm’ and did as she preached.
“Oh, smells delicious!” Lu sidestepped onto grubby tiles.
“Don’t you lie to me now, Lu po-po; I only make steamed or boiled dishes.” Yui Fong had tried to get everyone on this floor to do the same, to no avail alas, because stir-fry glossed in oil and dripping in sauces was a siren’s call. But just wait, they’ll regret it; once they have a pat of their belly and take a look at the walls dotted with browning stains like burn holes in paper, the siren rears her head. Oil was impossible to scrub off, Lu had tried and will testify to this, let alone sixteen times that.
“How I admire you for it. Before I forget, do you want some turnips for tonight? The ah-bei there told me there’s a fresh shipment coming in today. I’ll be stopping by the market anyway so it’ll be no trouble.”
Yui Fong stopped her stirring. “Ah you’re too kind, Lu. That would be great. They say the secret to living to ninety-nine years old is turnip soup. I will save some for you.”
“Thank you, thank you. But ninety-nine years is too damn long for me, ha-ha.”
She catches herself eyeing the coffee jar; it’s been so long since she’s felt that miraculous shiver of energy, since her last doctor visit burdened her with the knowledge that her heart was ill-suited for caffeine. She resists; she’ll save that for an especially hard day.
Once again Lu finds her palm hugging the wall as she makes her way downstairs. Opening the main door – as always Fortune Guest House and fancy Vegetarian’s Paradise stand imposing. The sun splashes onto the city, just like the rain had done just moments ago (such is summer weather), the shine making the city look like it were wrapped in cellophane. Perhaps it is; she has never touched any of those new skyscrapers; it could very well be still in its protective gear to shield itself from the dirty outside world. Mannequin-like people in it safe and sound too.
One of the wheels on her cart is faulty, so it skids along the puddles spasming like a kid about to piss his pants in class. She hurries along the length of Yu Chau Street, stopping occasionally to pick up a spare cardboard here or there, but her main goal is the big Seven-Eleven two blocks down that hands stacks of them out and oh here the phrase ‘early bird gets the worm’ truly applies.
Big fruit lies in store, big fruit, she tells herself as she resists the urge to stop at some smaller stores first. She remembers this story her mother once told her – all her bedtime stories were just a cover for some secret moral lesson – the Lord says to Man, “here, pick the most beautiful rock you see. There are lots of precious rocks ahead of you, diamonds galore, but there is no turning back. Pick only one, and pick wisely.” The man passes by pebbles, then big slabs of rock, rubies, emeralds – now we’re getting somewhere! The world is his oyster, and oh the pearls it’ll offer to him! they make his mouth water! Man thinks, as long as he keeps going (the saying patience is a virtue drolled on in his head), the treasures can only get better. So he fights temptation, strangles it beyond its dying breath, and forgoes diamonds for something better; there’s always better. Tipping the balance, eradicating satisfaction end in crumbled hopes and clumps of dirt, which lay in wait for him at the end.
If she had the chance, Lu would never pass up tangibility for some abstract possibility in the clouds, in the fog. It’s given her good times, perhaps not excellent but good enough for her. So she gave hurried thanks, snatched the cardboard and didn’t bother to tie up the stack with pink plastic string, stumbling with her cart down down down.
And there she stands, in all her ghastly atrociousness, one hand on a leaning Pisa-tower of cardboard, one hand on her hip, smirking at Lu. The devil in plastic quilted jacket! Lu tsks and slinks off to queue for any remaining scraps.
“If it isn’t Lu po-po!”
“If it isn’t Chan jie,” she wishes.
“Got some more hours of sleep today, did you?”
“That must mean I look particularly good today then. You should try it, more sleep I mean. It’s not good to wear yourself out,” Lu entertains her. The alternative, staring at the dizzying traffic in the streets, isn’t a strong contender.
Finally it’s her turn and as she predicts, there isn’t much cardboard left. Well, bit by bit is how the pile grows. And now she’s determined, out of spite, to gather at least more than Chan jie; it won’t do to just submit to her gloating, no it won’t. The shadows tower over her; it must still be early morning. They cast down on metal garage doors, which sever them into wavering static, a little to the left or the right. Lu turns the corner onto Tai Nan street. Leather stench hits her without warning, recognizing her veteran status. Leather may be pretty but it sure doesn’t agree with the heat; at this rate it’ll taste worse than a piece of that over-boiled beef shoulder she had the displeasure of chewing at Fat Man Chou’s. She sees the signs hovering above, this company and that – Tong-De, Mian-Fong, they all sound the same to her – extending past where they’re welcome; they look like news headlines framing her. Imagine that! Her, smack in the middle of Headline Daily’s front page, still with the flowing black hair she oiled up and massaged every night in the dark, twirling around in that yellow sundress, some hot new celebrity on her arm. And the reporters, they’ll crowd in droves, “Lady Lu, look here!”, “No, here! Tell us, who are you wearing?” And she’ll say proudly, spine straight-up, “My mamma made it,” teeth all gleaming in the flash, white and pearly still…
It doesn’t have to be that; she’s never been a fame chaser. She could also join the other side and don a pair of glasses, notepad in hand, expose the corruption in glass towers and the seedy underbelly gorged with triad legends. A glimpse of a tattooed arm or the lack of an arm (for if you betrayed them, their infamous meat cleaver would kiss the outer skin, then force its way into the sinews, a brandishing of tough love) would spark rumors. It is in their nature that rumors exaggerate, but this time Lu isn’t so sure; the Triad’s name precedes them; there must be a reason. Aside from their chopping prowess, they apparently also had the magical ability to induce amnesia, like wizards! Lu’s seen on the news one day that all five eyewitnesses who were supposed to testify against a Triad leader suddenly succumbed to memory loss; at least with memory you’re more likely to get that back, as opposed to an arm. Well, those are all old dreams; she reminds herself to not get lost in the once-upon-a-times. One thing comes and one thing goes: even though she does live near the dark side now, her youth has dissolved like the black pigment in her hair. She’s much too concerned about getting by day to day to get into any of that.
To make up for her overactive imagination, Lu’s developed a skill to absentmindedly pick up cardboard like a drug-sniffing dog. Her tendons take over, and she lets them; she can do it blindfolded even. It’s a skill as worthy of admiration as, say, sprinting a one-hundred-meter dash. Come on, let’s see that Usain Bolt haul these stacks! (She’s impressed herself with her outstanding memory; apparently hearing the name once on the news, in passing too, is enough!)
Lu sifts through her latest cardboard conquests tugging at the hastily-tied strings. Her trusty pen-knife is always within reach in her pocket, which she checks daily to make sure there are no holes. First she slices the cardboard down with the precision of a butcher; corrugated wrinkles smiling at her. Then, using her fists, she pounds down to flatten them, stay there now don’t you move, she warned. The cardboard defers to her at once. Once they were spectacular too; this box once carried Korean strawberries in its arms, sailing across more seas than she’s seen; and this one? parts of a Philips lamp; then, cram school workbooks. Whatever was in them has gone on to live, not necessarily better lives, but living nonetheless.
Not before long though, her cart starts to wobble more than the stacks can take. They’re threatening to tip over at any minute now, so taking them to a nearby recycling depot is the best course of action, Lu decides. She’s saving up for a new cart, one of them fancy ones with a bell so she wouldn’t have to clear her throat to scrape out any hoarseness, and yell with a voice unexpected of such a short woman, “Excuse me please! Let me through for a second, thank you!” It’s tough to compete with caged canaries squawking, cars honking, and market-people squabbling. Plus, the cart has four functional wheels. She’ll have to get used to that.
Hearing the desperate bargaining at the bigger recycling depots, truckloads of’em, she can’t help but chuckle. She’s been in the game for so long, she knows all the neighborhood secrets. She knows that if you cut across the big parking lot, as swift as a mother cutting watermelon for her screaming children in the peak of summer, because at any time there can be a car jumpscaring the living spirit out of you, you can find, squeezed between an electronics store and a shoe store, a little-known depot. A kind old couple runs this place, complete with decrepit green-tinted walls and a permanently sticky floor; god knows how they’ve kept this place afloat. They are always generous with their weighing: if Lu’s cardboard weighed at seven point eight kilograms, Mr. Lam would wave it off and round up to eight. It makes a world of difference, five cents worth. The big depots would cheat ya and say “Oh it’s tattered, it’s no good…” isn’t it all the same recycled! Another thing they don’t have: Mrs. Lam’s various holiday dishes that she shoves in Lu’s hands because she already knows the ol’ song and dance of “Aiya, no, Lam tai-tai, you’re too kind…are you sure? Really are you sure?” Here Lu must cut in and say, before you think she’s selfish for not sharing this info with her fellow collectors, it’s every woman for herself in this line of work, it ain’t fair but ho-ho what part about any of this is?
This other trick she’s also acquired by way of close observation, not trade talk; at first she only attributed their early hustling to diligence, but soon she realized that Hong Kong humidity had its perks. In the morning, air – in the form of wet particles – gushes into her nostrils, sinks its melting claws in the unwilling cardboard, burdening it with added weight. While this exchange is going on, with hawk-like eyes, Lu swoops in and captures the heavy cardboard, heavy with promise of a few cents more.
“Altogether…twenty-nine kilograms. There you go!”
Ey, not bad. But still she inquires, careful to celebrate, “How much?” Prices fluctuate at the drop of a hat; now whose hat? big Boss up north, of course.
“Seven cents per kilo, just like last week,” Mr. Lam beamed. This plus some fruit money is just enough to live on; and every day at Mr. Lam’s recycling depot, the fate of the week has been decided: a good week or a bad week, all depending on whether there will be enough room in the budget for an extra helping of sausage. She pats herself on the back; she’s done a mighty good job today.
Off she goes, off to Apliu Street, the thieves’ market, plucking the broken electronic components out, before snatching away all the cardboard before anyone else even laid their eyes on it. She gallops with the feet of a horse and hauls with the belly of a supernatural spirit. That’s the norm though; it’s a hidden prerequisite to become a collector. Competition is fierce for a Tuesday, but it’s all about winning the long race, the war over mere battles. So when she feels sweat beads roll down to her eyes, which blink angrily at the salty intrusion, she decides perhaps it’s time for a sit-down.
There it is – her bench, glistening gray-green with glassy paint-like splotches on it, and all hers for the whole lunch break. In her pink velcro-stick bag hanging on the side of her cart she has tucked away a neatly-wrapped Seven-Eleven pork-floss onigiri. She savors every taste of that, no matter that it is cold and nothing like the homemade ones, certified Jiangsu authentic, and oh she imagines the smell leads her up to gilded temples, to yellowed wheat fields, wherever it would go, she shall follow… Amongst all the chewing, suddenly her tongue goes numb, eerily tasteless, more than before at least. The culprit: a plastic bit stuck in the rice. She never knew how to open these goddamned plastic wrapping, step one, step two, ah just rip it apart and be done with it! Maybe when she first came to the city – she admits, she treasured the way each strip would glide down its destined pathway, the instructions, like they knew the answers and if you just follow the steps, you’ll get there, they assured. Like hell they do. They’re just better at slapping the horses’ butts, then climbing up the social ladder with those same dirty hands; that’s not even to mention the ones already at the top, sitting there on human thrones.
Lu swears, next time – and this time it will be different – she’ll make herself a packed lunch instead of this convenience store junk. A strange feeling, to scold herself the same way she would to… no one in particular, any picky brat. It is at times like these when she feels so close to Sleep that she’d be grateful for the ever-present noise in the streets; now are those pots and pans she hears? Ah, Sleep would be so motherly and kind and She’d embrace her; hard to fight that and gravity off; her eyelids kept drooping. Being good at waking up on time every day means the biggest yawns, impossibly big; she could swallow her throat whole and suck out all the air around. But the shouts – she makes out signs as well so perhaps it’s from a protest – won’t let her doze off. That is good; it keeps her schedule in check.
Where to next? Her legs march to the beat of Sham Shui Po’s thumping heart; as her feet slap down onto solid ground, she imagines feeling the grainy texture of Poplar Street through her worn soles. Like a meticulously trained doctor whose finger presses down at the exact spot to find a pulse, without hesitant circling indicating trial and error, Lu needs not to wait for the city to tell her what it needs. The alleys coiling around main streets, the telephone wires that drape lazily off apartment balconies, hell, even the fly-swatters spinning in dazed anger – they divulge secrets to her. This is a shortcut, they say. Look out! The vegetable vendor is hosing down the street again, they say. Perhaps the city’s roots have taken hold of her, boring inside to twist together with her veins. The city is a good ally to have on your side; who else has been around longer than these stoic, silent observers? They lend a different sort of comfort than people, something more stable. Concrete is by far a stabler material than flesh.
As soon as Lu steps onto the zebra crossing, the red guy bumps out the green, and she is forced to take a step backwards. These motorcycles are ruthless; it’s hard to imagine a time when roads were for people and vehicles were relegated to the tracks. From the front, kicked-up dust from zooming cars veil her vision; from the sides, pedestrians wedge themselves beside her. Among them is a tour guide with uncountable orange ducklings following him by way of microphone-enhanced instructions and a muscle-shirt-clad gym rat whose armpits cast two droopy damp shadows. And his logic is to use something even stronger to cover up all that sweat. If there ever are more cockroaches in her room than she can thwack, it’ll be a good idea to invite him over; not even the roaches’ll dare approach this! She will never and can never forget the toxic fumes of that odorous body spray weaseling their way into the seams of her gangster Mickey Mouse shirt (actually, it’s spelled ‘Mikeye Mouse’ for copyright reasons). Bought it half off at the wet market; she supposes this manly body spray does fit the whole gold-chain aesthetic better than its original fish stink.
Although this busy bustle is transpiring all around, Lu feels calm at this intersection. Time stands still for her, but not for everybody else; they’re still hurrying to catch this bus, scurrying for work. Soon she will join them, once this red light turns green. For now though, the red light absolves her of the guilt that always comes with rest; it feels like the Lord has cupped a bubble around her to protect her from ever-marching Time. She watches them through glassy eyes, detached, in her own world, with her own set of rules. Queen Lu! her subjects would hail, donning the poofiest scruff-collars, scattered daisies on a meadow. As Queen, the first law she shall invoke? Free mandatory massage and needling for every citizen! Every week!
Blink, and it’s green. So starts the countdown. At the end of this countdown the bomb doesn’t go off, but the impatient motorcycles sure will. Hand gripping her cart, Lu tries to cross the road, and she could’ve, if only these bastards would stop their squeezing and give poor old Lu a fighting chance! Her cart has become a burden, getting stuck between indistinguishable skinny-jeanned legs. It’s twenty fourteen; shouldn’t they have invented flying cars by now? and by extension, flying carts? Oh the view she’ll have, sweeping over the blocky districts, dwindling dots still scrambling about, but that’ll be of no concern to her, not anymore… But enough fantasies! she clears her throat. She’s a woman on a mission; survival is her impetus. She yanked her cart, bouncing between legs, and it’s working, she’s moving ahead! Apparently not fast enough, red overtakes her. In her rush – everything whizzing by in streaks of light, a cacophony of roaring motors – the light sedates her with a poisonous intention, and this dizzying hum that vibrates in her brain transfixes her in one spot. As her mind constrains her muscles to follow the zebra stripes, also having to dodge the swerving bicycles, gravity becomes lighter, and floats up, her feet too – into the air – and she trips, having not quite yet mastered the art of walking on air. The curb grazes her lower leg, but she clambers up quick; she’s a resilient old woman (thanks to her long earlobes) – she always manages; and her foot steps onto the sidewalk before the first engine whir.
“Po-po, are you okay?” The voice rings clear and breaks her brief trance. A smooth pale hand sticks stiff out – whoever it is must not have worked a day in their life.
“That’s okay, no need.” Grasping a more stable pole instead, she thanks the young man anyway and prepares to get going. But he is so terribly insistent, and pushy; so are the pedestrians who cannot stand even a second’s time lent. He repeats, a glitching robot, “You must need some help pushing the cart;” hands waving anywhere but near it. Hasn’t he heard the nos that came before? So far all Lu sees is: more ‘help’; more mess. Swarms of busybees dodge them by a hair; if they didn’t, she wouldn’t blame them; they are blocking the sidewalk. They are the people she’d give side-eyes to, taking up the whole street and whatnot, hmph.
When the shadowed cloud descends and shields her from light’s prying piercing pupils, she hurriedly slips away into obscurity. What’s important right now is breaking out of this crowd, seeking space; perhaps under one of the rusty metal roofs? Lu feels like a general, commanding her cart-soldier to sniff out a possible pathway; this requires strategy, my friend; she’d direct the army to flank from both sides in a V shape, yes, a V shape like in Red Cliff. She rides on out on army horses.
Safe in isolation now, she leans against the ridged column. She’s glad it wasn’t a sprain: the initial sting would be momentary — she can stand that — but the dull throb that would accompany her every step: that she fears. You can’t shake that off; it’s a stubborn leech. Still, better that than forced kindness. The two types that exist in this man-eat-man world: forced and malicious. The former, borne out of guilt whose stains of repugnance can’t be done away, no matter how many spins, topsy-turvy perspective shifts you give it. One look at the eyes, avoidant and seeded with pity, and she knows. The latter drapes a cotton coat over her shoulders; as it rains, and it will, no amount of shaking can rid Lu of the increasing weight as the tension between each waterlogged particle in each thread of yarn drags her down. Your debt catches up with you; kindness racks up a high bill.
So she continues on her cardboard quest; she hates to leave things unfinished. Lu is the Tortoise, crawling slowly but surely, despite the chances of winning against the Hare initially seeming ghost-thin. And who is this Hare? Chan jie, for one, and those damned government inspectors too! The spirit of competition scratches her back, tingly with nerves alive; the sidewalk suddenly feels like a moving walkway, and she bursts forwards, always forwards.

I find it VERY VERY ironic ...that this LE kept hitting us with top secrecy tactics so they can
avoid false confessions .
eventually.. they went and basically fished for one..
all agencies working on this case.. can not be accused of understanding the case , witnesses or evidence ..or any intelligence at all
they started by raiding several households ..including kak ..after they discovered one girl was possibly catfished by him..but he wasn't followed at all concerning his crimes against minors..and was free for around 3 years doing it
since going in all the wrong directions ..and after KAK was brought up in the spotlight again with his crimes ..LE saw another chance to get back to him and his bad dad ...because it's very convenient ( cause whats the use of evidence and witnesses anyway )
NOW .. KAK is in deep waters ..and comes this LE THROWING him a bone ..pressure upon pressure and the media and the murder sheet on top of it ( they all say you must know something )
and as the BIG liar that he is.. he doesn't disappoint and decided to throw his dad to the dogs ( the bad dad who didnt bail him out ) ..he thinks he can play a game ..and i think this is his game
he will say ..he doesn't know anything except that his dad did it..and he was there ( only waiting in the car ) ..he can tell there is a knife and /or a gun ..and that they went and threw the weapons in the river and burned the clothes...he is only a witness/ unwilling participant and he wants a deal
LE supposingly the most cautious le in history ..the most ready for any fake confessors who dares ..decides to swallow this pill ..but only in SECRET ..but then we have the MS standing by exposing ( the river search )
the one that went in for over a month.. and cost god know what of state money ( and was empty)
just then THE REAL FISH IS CAUGHT ..and KAK is rendered a big red herring
is this good for an ID channel episode
i've built my theory on watching all threads and connecting the dots
but its stays a theory

So theres this girl, we'll refer to her as M (23), Ive(25) been trying to figure out her intentions for a few months and still have no real answers. I would usually be more direct but Im a little nervous because shes my best friends fiances best friend and I dont wanna make things awkward
we've known eachother for a couple years and up until January had only hung together with our friends a handful of times. This last christmas I invited my friend, his fiance and M over to my house to take shrooms and spend the night. It was overall a lot of fun and by the end of the night I had caught M glancing at me a few times, but tried not to think much of it bc we were all on drugs lol.
so nothing happens that night, we just had a good time and they left next afternoon. Shortly after they leave we realize M has left her air mattress at my house. My friend asks me if his fiance can give M my number so she can coordinate picking it up. Idk why but I said "nah thats alright, I'll dm her, I have her on insta" which I probably should have just let her give M my number. side note, M followed me on insta last july after a party we were at, and I sloothed a bit and found she doesnt follow any of my friends other friends. we also have matched on tinder in the past, and my friends fiance has also asked my friend about setting M and I up together multiple times but my friend usually shuts it down cause I havent wanted to date in a while and M is also complicated. so I feel like those are good signs she likes me, but she also very awkward, anxious, quiet, shyish so shes very hard to read.
so anyways, I was out of town after christmas for a couple weeks but I message M when I get home. She comes by my house to pick up her air mattress and we make small talk, before she leaves she ask if I wanna hang out and smoke some time, I said sure.
after this I call my friend to see what he knows, cause even though I feel like she likes me shes never like flirty or anything. I talk to my friend and he says that shes seeing someone, but planning on breaking up with him. Im like okay, we can just hang, I figure shes vetting me as one her next options, whatever.
so over the last couple months we hung out a few times, but dont really txt much which Im fine with cause I dont like to text, but usually I find txting regularly is big part of starting something. Eventually I ask her if she wants to go to an art museum with me and get food after, I never literally used the word date but I figured that seemed like a date. she agrees, we go, we have a nice time. so then a few days later I text her and asks if she wants to get food that weekend, didnt say date but still. then she responds saying shes busy the next couple weeks with family and her boyfriend. that kinda through me for a loop bc she had never brought up that she was seeing someone the last couple months. i tell her no worries and leave it at that. I figure it was just rejection. I also felt bad cause my friend did tell me she was seeing someone, I just assumed that they had broken up. cause to me its a little wierd to spend time alone with a guy you barely know if youre in a relationship.
2 or 3 weeks later M txts me out of no where asking if I wanna get food and hangout again, Im like sure. I talked to my friend again he says that M has broken up with said BF since last we saw eachother.
so yesterday shes coming, she txts me saying her car broke down, but shes like 5 mins from. so i go find her, fix her car the best I can and we go to my house. we just smoke and talk, I asked her about getting food, and she says shed rather do take out than eat at the restaurant, which i take as a bad sign. she also like wasnt dressed like neatly really which i took as a sign of I dont care what you think.
we hang for a 3 or 4 hours, nothing eventful happens, she leaves. later that night she txts thanking me for my help today.
Im just very confused because from what Ive heard from friends, and some of stuff shes done she seems like shes into me, and we tend to talk a lot when we've been hanging one on one. But i feel like if she straight up tells me she has a boyfriend regardless of how serious or not it is, thats just her turning me down. and I feel bad cause if she does want to be just friends Im gonna have a hard time doing that if I have feelings for her and feel rejected
also I feel like Im sending mixed signals cause Im too nervous to be forward or direct with what I want cause Im scared she'll say no. I aslo feel bad hanging out with her if my intentions or romantic and shes has a bf.
so Idk, someone tell me what to do.

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.
Sometimes Adam Vir really isn’t the smartest guy… you would have thought he’d think things through better. Well time he learns to be more careful.
You guys ready for some emotional gutpunches?
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.](under construction sorry)
VIEWER DISGRETION IS ADVISED
This chapter and the following will deal with sensible themes!
[…]
"Gah, this place is a dump."
"Yeah, just be glad you can't smell it."
"Why is that?"
"Urine, lots and lots of urine."
"Ah, lovely."
Krill muttered, making his next movements very tender against the dark clattering metal, as if he could avoid stepping in anything unsavory. Beside him, a rather scruffy human appeared from the shadows, "scruffy" with an overgrown haircut, five o-clock shadow, eyepatch and an army jacket that had seen better days.
Commander Vir blended in surprisingly well with the grungy understreets of Noctopolis. The city was less of a city, and more like a series of tunnels, bridges and rickety buildings, built on and into the side of a cavernous rift in the ground. Once upon a time, the Tesraki had begun serious mining operations on the border moon's surface, causing some serious scars in the landscape, which was then filled with the teaming underground life that the most unsavory humans bring with them.
Noctopolis was located on the furthest edge of the Milky Way galaxy, and seeing as the Galactic Assembly was based out of Andromeda, it was a very difficult moon to police. The UNSC had attempted to take over operations on the moon, but had found only limited success considering their military had only been operating in space for the past few years. They didn't have enough manpower to undergo such an operation, so the moon itself was left mostly unpoliced. Since then, it had become home to the most unsavory of the Tesraki, the Drev, and the humans, having enough economically or emotionally in common that they at least tolerated each other.
What understanding they had of the border moon had begun with the banning of interspecies relationships almost a year past.
Since Noctopolis wasn't particularly well policed, many counterculture groups had made their home here.
While many of them were decent people, attempting a little privacy away from the eyes of the law, other less savory groups had taken an opportunity to stake their claim.
The streets about them were littered with trash and abandoned cardboard and metal scraps. Their greatest source of light leaked down from the lively redlight district above, not only called that because of what it offered, but because it actually did boost a series of bright neon lights that could be seen across the city.
"Wanna tell me why I'm here again? This is kind of a Sunny and Vir thing."
Commander Vir propped himself casually up against a wall, slouching inside his jacket collar turned up against the sour wind blowing up from the cavern vanishing into darkness below,
"Sunny had to finish requisitioning our new weapons system, besides, I thought it was about time you and I hung out. We haven't done anything together as friends in a while."
"Ah yes, just how I prefer social bonding, loitering through piss covered streets with an eyeless legless hobo."
"Rude. Why do you always have to be so sarcastic?"
The human muttered, glancing quickly around a corner.
Krill let the question drop, instead moving onto the next topic of conversation,
"Wanna tell me why we aren't working with local law enforcement?"
The human dodged past a leaking pipe and the resulting black puddle,
"Well there are a few reasons. If I plan on getting close to this drug ring, or even the suppliers, I can't have the smell of the feds one me, second is that the policing system here is only partially overseen by the UNSC, mostly they supply their own officers and their own laws. There are serious rumors about law enforcement corruption, but that can be expected, considering the kind of people that hang out here. And then there is the issue of ease of access to fingerprinting and DNA systems. Mine have been temporarily removed from the system for this operation because the dealers tend to check before the sell, but if I was working with local law enforcement my identity might be leaked."
Together they stepped onto one of the rickety bridges spanning the cavern. Krill tried not to look down into the gaping bottomless chasm, spanning downwards into darkness tinted with the red haze cast from the neon reflection of the city.
"Why is this such a big deal anyway. Why waste you on a project like this."
Commander Vir stepped off the edge of the bridge, holding it steady for Krill as he followed.
"Because these guys are linked to the human hormone market."
Krill was a bit surprised. He had heard about the issue months ago. Certain species, the Tesraki and the Drev especially had neurotransmitter systems similar to that of a human, though somewhat dampened and were affected by the use of injected dopamine and adrenaline. On the street they had taken names like Dopie, Daddy, Addie, Joy Juice, and some other strange names. The biggest issue with the use of human chemicals as drugs is that even a single dose of the stuff could fry the circuits for any nonhuman, taken in any sort of significant dose. In humans it occasionally meant sickness or even mental illness, but in aliens it could mean permanent flat affect or the inability to feel fear. The other issue was how the dealers got it, usually it involved kidnapping and harvesting the chemicals from humans, since many times the analogue drugs humans made for themselves didn't have an effect on aliens.
Krill shivered at the thought, and stepped through a tight alleyway, just ahead of the commander, who had to turn sideways to fit through the narrow space. He didn't like fieldwork, at all, but having a human with you was one way to make you feel safe. The only creature that a human might not be able to fight off was a Drev, but even then, there was still a possibility.
Then again missing an eye and a leg Vir wasn’t a full human at all at the moment…
Together they cut across another street and towards their destination. They had managed to squeeze some information from the only informant still alive on the street, and that had been an address. At the back of the property, they found a door padlocked shut though it had recently been cut.
Commander Vir held open the door and shoved inwards, leading them into a long, dark hallway lined with debris. Krill stayed behind him as they made their way into the darkness jumping at every sound.
Ahead of him, the commander had removed an energy pistol from the band of his pants. Krill didn't bother to point out to him, that it was difficult to believe he wasn't law enforcement when he handled a weapon like that.
He held Krill back and then nudged one of the doors inward, clearing the room with a quick sweep from corner to corner, even stepping out to check behind the door. Krill peered in as the commander grunted,
"Just what we were looking for."
Krill peered around his legs and then paused,
"Uh..."
The room was filled from floor to ceiling with strange glowing tanks of liquid, a pale greenish in color. The ambient light gave the room a rather eerie glow. A glow that highlighted the strange instruments and free-floating tubes with sinister intent. Nothing was currently in the tanks, but Krill shivered knowing what they would have held if they had been filled.
Human bodies.
The tanks cast much of the room into shadow, and commander Vir took cover, crouching behind one of the tank consoles. Krill followed him taking cover behind the human's back. He didn't see what the man was so worried about there was one here. The human tilted his head, listening intently scanning around the room. Krill was just beginning to speak when the man pushed him back hissing,
"RUN!"
But before he could even take a step in another direction, he saw a flicker at the side of the room, and commander Vir was lit up with at least ten points of green light all trained on his chest.
"GET ON THE GROUND."
"PUT YOUR HANDS UP."
"DROP THE GUN."
"DON'T MOVE."
Commander Vir reacted while Krill was still on the floor, standing from behind his cover and stepping into the room. The Energy pistol clattered to the floor as he held his hands out to his sides.
"GET ON THE GROUND!"
Lights flashed all around them, and the room was illuminated by a painful burst of light and an eruption of movement. Men appeared from nowhere dressed in black tactical gear, faces and eyes completely obscured. Commander Vir was thrown face first onto the floor with at least three kneeling on his back.
Two came after Krill who squealed, to high pitched to be heard by the humans.
"GIVE US YOUR HAND!"
"GAH! Yes, yes just stop pulling and I will! Shit... I'm lying on it, let me up for a- OUCH!"
From where he was being pinned to a wall, Krill heard the ratcheting of handcuffs momentarily surprised not to hear the initiation of energy restraints.
"Shit, that's really tight... Ahh... I can't feel my hands."
"STOP RESISTING."
"I'M NOT RESISTING, I HAVE A PROSTHETIC AND YOUR STEPPING ON IT!"
That didn't do him much good as Krill heard the sharp thud, crack of someone being hit over the head. Krill understood what the captain meant about NOT being policed by the UNSC. Krill had met peace officers on earth before, and while they could act the same, they generally had reason be reasonable to them and they would probably be polite to you.
Commander Vir was dragged to his feet hands wrenched painfully behind his back and pinned against the wall as they searched him,
"Anything on you gonna poke me or stick me with?"
"No, no."
"You got ID?"
Commander Vir paused,
"I... well no."
One of the other officers ran a scanning device over his body, but it beeped negative.
"No implants."
Krill cursed internally... They should have thought about that when they temporarily cancelled his ID...
"No ID, you know that's illegal, don't you?"
The one officer said, sticking his hand into another pocket.
"I can explain. I work WITH you guys I-"
"No badge, no ID ... and ah, what is this?”
Krill felt his heart sink as he watched the man pull the adrenaline and dopamine sample from the commander's pocket. He held it up in front of the commander's face,
"And what is this?”
"That... Isn't mine."
He said lamely.
The man pulled down the front of his mask one eyebrow raised,
"Ah not yours eh.... Let me guess these are your friends’ pants, and you're just borrowing them. You had no idea they were there. Oh oh, I know, you were just delivering them for a friend you don't know what they actually are."
He reached into another pocket,
"Oh and what is this?”
Commander Vir groaned and leaned his head against the wall.
The small baggie of white powder was held up before him,
"What is this gonna be, Cocaine, Meth, Heroine? You been trading a little Addie for a fix?”
In fact, they actually HAD traded the drugs for information, along with a tracking device. Humans can't use dopamine and adrenaline like other species can, so they traded it for the classic stuff.
"You can test me, I'm not high, I'm not a drug addict, I am also not who you think I am."
"And who are you?"
"My name is commander Adam Vir with the UNSC. I was sent here to HELP."
They did not seem in any way convinced,
"You have proof of that "Commander"? Look I saw the guy once, and he wasn't half as fugly as you, also he was taller."
Commander Vir yelped in indignation as they began patting him down for the second time,
"Who you calling fugly you-"
He bit his tongue,
"I'm sorry OFFICER but I had my implants discontinued for this operation. Just look at me I'm missing an eye and a leg and im 6,2 just like the man you say I'm not, and I also let my hair grow out. Give me five minutes on the phone and I'll call my superiors for you."
"Uh huh, because they'd have the fleet commander down here crawling through the dirt after narcos and tweakers. This is the army, officers sit behind their nice shiny desks and let other men die for them."
Commander Vir was pulled away from the wall,
"What are you his junkie cousin, a brother?"
"I told you who I am."
"Someone check the bug, see if he has ID."
Krill stiffened as a wand was run over him,
"Nothing sir. That's strange, usually don't see their kind around here."
"I get my phone call, don't I?”
"What do you think this is the 2000s? The hormone crisis is a level 5 threat, and we are not obligated to provide you with anything."
"I'm pretty sure I still get a lawyer."
Commander Vir was hauled to his feet and marched bodily towards the door,
"Yeah but you'll have to get one flown in unless you want a Tesraki, and I wouldn't trust one of those bastards as far as I can throw them.... Uh disgusting little bats."
Commander Vir seemed almost irked at the use of the slur. Humans had a habit of that, they had a slur for each of other species, whether it be bug, beetle, bat, dino, or just the general use of the word freak.
They were dragged outside, and around to where the vehicles had been hidden. The commander tripped more than once over the cheap prosthetic he had used to augment his look, and every time he was dragged painfully back to his feet. Krill wasn't treated much better though he only received one of the human officers. Krill was thrown in the back of a cruiser with bars and energy shields over the windows. Commander Vir was thrown against the front of the vehicle,
"As of now, you'll be charged with the possession of illegal substance, intent to sell, failure to identify, unlawful possession of a firearm, and resisting arrest."
"What!? I didn't resist, and I DID identify myself. It's not my fault you won't believe me."
"Someone get a spit shield on him. He is uncooperative."
"What, I."
He was pinned even more forcibly against the hood as a female officer secured a Galactic Assembly issued muzzle over his face. They had developed those after realizing what human spit could do to certain species, and what the human voice could do to others. Once on, the officer flipped the dial, cutting off the commander mid protest.
Once done, he was thrown into the back with Krill gagged and restrained. Krill felt as if he was going to pass out, or just go right ahead and die. They had been captured by human authorities that even commander Vir couldn't talk down, and the ones that weren't nearly as understanding as they were on earth.
Things could only get worse.
The policemen were talking to each other in a joking tone, like it was an everyday situation for them. Krill listened with growing horror.
”Possession of illegal substance, intent to sell, failure to identify, unlawful possession of a firearm, and resisting arrest. That on top of attacking an officer I would say right?"
”Oh yeah he definitely tried to shoot me, I barely even got out alive.”
”Well then, lets get them to our little version of Alcatraz and make sure they get thrown into a dark cell and never come back. It’s almost the end of the day and I want to go home.
”Yeah I am sure we can skip most documentation and just lock them away, its not like someone will miss them or something. Plus it is a big planet after all and things happen…
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.](under construction sorry)
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.

So, this is the story of how my character had the best Death I have ever received in a game. A little bit of backstory first.
​
I have been playing in a text-based game of Werewolve the Apocalypse for the last 15 years with generally the same group of people. We meet at least twice a month or more for larger story sessions and there is of course almost always social play available to those that want it. This was the first true Werewolve game I ever played in.
​
The story is set with a large group of Garou who sit sort of outside "The Nation." but still have tribal ties and allies within. The group goes by the name "The Hounds of Hell." and they are an MC of Garou and live by both the Litany and the rules of an MC.
​
Enter 20 year old Space-Wolf. I had been searching for an IRC game that was more then just NSFW Role-Play. I wanted stories, and adventure and World of Darkness. I stumbled upon Hounds when looking for a game on IRC and I met a lovely ST that I am still friends with to this day. I still play in this same game as another character to this day.
​
I was given the help I needed to make a PC and came up with a background that at the time I thought was fairly unique. I would later learn that the lost cub background isn't terribly unique but I was new to White Wolf at the time. It took about two weeks of me waiting patiently to be told it was time to introduce my character but eventually the ST spoke with me and had my PC - named Charles Xavier Reynolds (Turns out his Birth Name was Aedan MacTavish - he would eventually go by Charles Aedan MacTavish) at the time - stumble out of the desert and into the temporary camp of the Hounds of Hell, having escaped from a nearby institution on the previous night of the Full Moon.
When I made the PC I didn't know what Tribe I wanted him to be from; or even what his basic gifts would be. I wanted that all discovered by him in game, and too my shock - I was given PB 5 Silver Fang. What made this all the more interesting was the fact that the Hounds of Hell were in the middle of a dust up with the Fang tribe as a whole.
That was just the beginning of Charlies story however.
If I wanted to write the whole story out, it would probably take me several months to give a recollection of every single thing the character had gone through. He changed tribes twice, and moons several times. Each had a reason and only once was it because of a punishment.
​
The big thing here was that throughout this entire lifespan of the character was a singular running villain. Lillith.
Lillith was an immensely powerful bane who took her name from the biblical Lillith and was obssessed with the Hounds of Hell. She was a seductress and a bane who specifically targeted pregnant Kin and Garou. We lost to her...allot. PC's lost children to her. PC's lost their lives to her. My character specifically lost several children and three different mates to her throughout the years. He hated her with all the fury a Garou could manage.
Then, about 3 years ago, we switched to Discord and we could really get into the RP aspects of things. Quite often doing voiced games where we responded as our PC's would and it was allot of fun. Eventually, The Hounds got involved with Norse Ragnarok. The game had always had a Norse bent to it, with it having a Heavy Fenrir influence and many of our allies being among the Fenrir. The Founding Garou of the Hounds was a Fenrir.
So, very long story short - many of the Hounds were a Chosen of a God; someone who when Ragnarok came would carry their powerful spirit into the New World. Charlie's - was Weiland the Smith. Charlie had a tumultuous relationship with spirits. He never could quite grasp the spirit part of his Garou life. That extended to Weiland as well. The two were on decent terms but some time before this he had managed to offend the spirit and had no communication with him. Ever.
​
It was discovered by the Hounds that Loki had been working with Lillith to hasten Ragnarok. What we thought was two decades to prepare was quickly dwindling down. Loki was launching an attack on a weak spot in the Gauntlet and hoping it to tear it asunder and combine the Umbra and the solid world. He was doing this at a caern called Walhalla. An ally of the Hounds who had often offered them a place to rest and a place the Hounds had helped free from the Spiral in an EPIC fourty-eight hour session.
So, the Hounds gathered at Walhalla. The big guns were brought in from all across the Nation. Fae Allies were called in. Silver Fang Royalty showed up. The Hounds entire MC were ready to ride into battle, but Charlie and another group of Garou were given a seperate mission. Charlie - who at this point had finally found his footing in life as a Fianna Galliard - and the others were to take a large crystal made of pure cleansing energy to a weak point in the defenses of Loki and set it off. It would crumble his protective wall and allow the other Garou to push him and his forces back.
The trip there was fairly uneventful; our party cloaked with Talins and all of us good at stealth. Then when we arrived....we heard the sound of crying children. Crying Ghost Children were Lilliths calling card. She was standing in the room that we needed to place the bomb; but for some reason could not see us.
​
As it turned out, we were being cloaked by the Gods from her view. Atleast outside of the room. Once we placed the bomb; she would be able to see us. One of the Norse Gods who was closer to their Chosen than Charlie was, informed that Garou that if that cleansing bomb were to go off right next to Lillith - it would kill her for good. No more little pieces of her surviving. No more just sealing the powerful Bane away and praying that this time it holds. Lillith would be dead...but so would whoever set the bomb off.
It was initially a timed bomb; but if you applied Gnosis directly to it. It would go off. Several Ahroun and a Theurge began arguing IC about who would stay behind and try to stay alive long enough to set the bomb off with her near enough to it to kill her.
Until Charlie spoke up...
​
In one of the most impassioned speeches I've ever given IC - Charlie stated exactly why he should stay behind. I can't remember it word for word but it goes something like.
​
"30 Years. For Thirty Years I have fought this bitch. I have set children and mates to the pyre because of her. I have held those I consider brother, sister, and friend as they wept because of her. I have made mistakes that have cost me name, renown, and rank because of her. None of you can stand up to her in a straight fight. -I- cannot stand up to her in a straight fight. That isn't how you fight her. She has a weakness. Pretty things that she has a history with are her favorite play toys. They distract her. I will distract her long enough to get her close and set that bomb off. All of you have children. All of you have mates. My children that survived are grown; I haven't had a mate in nearly fifteen years because of her. I wouldn't take one. No one is staying but me."
​
So, it was decided that I would be the one to stay. I had a gift that let me pour Gnosis and Rage into my social stats. I would become the prettiest thing to ever exist; and she knew me. I would pull her in and set the bomb off.
One big thing you should know; is that just outside this room where she stood was an old temple to the Gods and Spirits of the Norse. So, after he said his goodbyes to his friends and gave them time to escape he moved up to the statue of Weiland.
He knelt before it, and cut his palm and offered the blood. He offered the blade used to make the cut - Handcrafted by Charlie himself because he trusted no one else to make one to his standards. He offered a prayer to Weiland.
"Weiland, my friend. I am sorry I will not be here to carry your spirit to the next world. I am sure you will find someone more worthy. I am sorry that I will not be able to come to the skyforges and learn from the most talented smith to ever grace a forge. I have never asked you for anything Weiland. Others they ask for strength; for guidance; but I have always took to your tenant of self-sufficiency with all the strength my will could carry. I do not know if you are listening...but forgive me, and goodbye old friend."
​
I then offered gnosis to the statue and stood up - but as Charlie stood up. He went from stocky and shorter with a grizzled beard; and became a much taller man with wider shoulders and powerful arms with a long thick red beard. As the ST described to me - Weiland had finally given his Chosen a single gift. There, in a forgotten temple, as a war raged below - two became one.
​
Charlie/Weiland engaged Lillith. Instead of distracting her - they fought. Chosen and God beat her into the ground. They shattered her limbs; crushed her face; and left her unable to move. At the end of the fight; they drug her over to the bomb and placed her face next to it. The last thing Charlie ever got to see; was Lilliths face - filled with the fear of knowing that Death had come.
​
15 Years. 15 Years he had fought her. 15 years he had lost to her, and in a blinding flash of light he had guranteed that the Hounds children, and their childrens children would never fear her again. It was the perfect ending to a character who had been adopted and raised by the MC. Who had taken the MC's Totem Spirt (The Beast - A Totem of Protection for Pregnant Women and Children) as his own personal Totem.
​
In the final irony, a lost Silver Fang Cub - who it turns out was one of the last surviving members of Austere Howl - who chose Cockroach over Falcon, and then was chosen by Stag - was written into the Silver Record; for doing what Elders and Legends had failed to do. He put an end to Lillith.
To me - it was the best ending the character could have asked for.

PREVIOUS
‘Tick, tick, tick, tick-’
“Stop it.” I said quietly under my breath.
‘-tick, tick, tick-’ Ronové was repeating the sound in time with the pendulum swinging on the clock across the room and it was slowly driving me insane.
“Why are you doing that?”
‘Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick-’
“Shut up!” I shouted finally and at least three sets of unnatural eyes turned to me, “Sorry, voices.”
“You’re possessed?” It was a fairy named Baltzar who asked.
“A little bit.”
“That does explain the witch’s magic.”
‘Tick, tick, tick…’
“What? Oh yeah. It would be nicer if he was helpful though.” I joked, sometimes it was difficult to separate what Ron was thinking to me from what other people were saying. He didn’t answer me then, he was doing something, I won’t pretend to know what.
“Well?” Eric asked tensely, though his expression was perfectly neutral. Actually, I hadn’t seen any flicker of emotion at all in days.
He stood beside Nathaniel’s hospital bed with his arms folded, watching every move Baltzar made with scrutiny. His arm was coated in magic all the way to his collarbone, and his hair was combed back so that his right eye was clearly visible. I had seen him be relaxed about hiding his abnormalities when we were at home. But this was different, it was more like he was displaying them as a warning.
“He’s doing well. His vitals are stable, the salt is largely flushed from his system and his internal energy is reaching an equilibrium.”
“When will he wake.”
Baltzar shrugged, “How should I know? He will wake when his body has the energy to do so.”
Nathaniel was the only one that hadn’t regained consciousness. Calla was the first. I had found her lying in the street and the injury on her side was… Well, I’ve seen roadkill that looked better. Her dress was dirty and torn, and blood pooled around her. I didn’t think she was going to make it.
I pressed my hand firmly on the wound to stem the bleeding but her blood was so slick that I slipped more than once and it welled up between my fingers. ‘She’s not going to make it.’ Ronové commented casually echoing my thoughts, he sounded amused.
“Shut up.” I hissed. I didn’t want to hear anything from Ron at that point. Calla coughed as she tried to talk, blood dribbled out her mouth but whatever she said was inaudible. I think she knew that because she tried again.
“Wh–’s… E..ric?” It still took me a moment to understand.
Around us was chaos and I couldn’t see Eric anywhere, it was like a war zone. A haze of smoke filled the air, making it even harder to see anything. The only light came from freely burning fires and bright fairy magic. Ash fell from the sky like snow once the rain had let up, and to make matters worse it was bitterly cold, I don't know how no one else seemed to realize that.
Achaicus was fighting Lazarus and each blast of energy broke part of the castle, sending clouds of dust and rubble in all directions. It was all I could do to keep Calla somewhat protected from it. I didn’t know what I would do if they came in our direction. The fear in that thought nearly sent me into a panic attack.
“I don’t know where he is, but I'm sure he’s fine.” I tried to soothe her, she was so pale and her eyes slowly closed. “Calla no. You have to stay awake, can you do that for me?”
I patted her cheek gently to force her to open her eyes again and she did for a moment, “Okay, good, that’s good you’re doing great. Just breathe through it.” Was I talking her out of dying? Or coaching her through birth? Truthfully I didn’t know what to say, everything sounded dumb to me.
A shock wave of magic deflected off a sword shattered the windows above us and I did my best to cover her from the falling glass. It was terrifying being on the ground while monsters fought. I had never seen anything quite alike to it. I was definitely going to need to up the dosage on my anxiety meds after this.
I could almost feel Calla’s life slipping away when suddenly someone was beside me, pushing my hands away and replacing them with their own magic hands. “You’ve done well, let me.” It took a solid moment before I understood, it was a ghoul…
Gratefully I let her take over, when I stood I was shaking so bad that my legs felt like jelly. Calla’s blood soaked my shirt and pants, she had lost so much. But, magic can fix that right? I didn’t know. I couldn’t really think.
It was only by chance that I saw Eric, he was pushing his way out of a pile of rubble. It must’ve fallen on him during the fight and I thought he might be hurt so I moved right away to help him.
“I thought you were dead somewhere.” The relief I felt was immeasurable as I assisted him out.
“I’m fine, what about Calla?” He dismissed my concern. His hair and clothes were coated in dust. His right eye was nothing more than an empty socket, his nails were all blackened and his good eye seemed unusually blue. I hadn’t seen him without his monster arm and eye before and I’m ashamed to say I recoiled with the shock of it.
“Charles, focus, tell me about Calla?” he demanded firmly as I fell back on my haunches.
“She, she’s, a ghoul is-”
“And Nathaniel?” He cut me off before I could finish explaining.
“I don’t know he was-” Eric was gone before I could complete the sentence. Apparently he wasn’t injured at all.
After that everything was mostly a blur and I think I might have passed out because when I woke up I was laying on a hospital bed in the infirmary. Calla was in the bed beside mine, and Nathaniel was on the other side of her. Eric was sitting between the two with his cane across his lap and a sword resting close by, ready to be used at any moment.
Now let me tell you, fairy hospitals are weird, well, ‘outdated’ I suppose is a more appropriate term. It’s a wide space with tall timber framed windows along one side, and elaborate landscape paintings decorating the other. Small tables with flower vases ran down the center and there was very little medical equipment. There were no partitions between areas and metal beds with simple linens lined either side of the room in neat rows.
It was a surprisingly cold, sterile place considering the amount of light that shone in. I’m not really sure what I expected. Our beds were on the window side, while Markos was on the other side opposite them. My sister of course sat with him. She had dragged over an empty bed so that she could lay close to him.
There weren’t all that many people in the room, there was a ghoul, Hanta, standing beside the door and Eric looked over when I sat up.
“Good afternoon, Charles,” he commented. He hadn’t recovered fully at that point and the fae magic on his arm was only up to his forearm. But I noticed his fingernails were no longer black and his right eye was restored.
“Afternoon? How long was I out?”
“Only a few hours.” He assured, “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a bus, how’s everyone else?”
“They will be alright.”
“Ahh that’s a relief-” I began but Eric cut me off abruptly.
“You disobeyed me.”
The way he looked at me seemed cold, and the complete lack of emotion in his voice made me feel like I was in trouble, “Yeah… I’m sorry about that.”
“You used a magic I warned you not to, and almost got yourself, and Nathaniel, killed. It would have been unforgivable if you had and I don’t take kindly to what I’m saying being blatantly disregarded. Do you understand?”
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to-” I had no good answer for him. He was angry in a way that burned cold and I knew it.
“You should be sorry. You’re important and irreplaceable.” he said it so calmly I wasn’t sure if he meant it, “...and, you saved Calla’s life. If you weren’t there she would have bled out. So I will forgive you, only this one time.”
I understood then that he was scared. I had scared him by putting myself in harms way, and this was his way of telling me.
“It won’t happen again...” I assured softly.
“...Thank you.”
I smiled and it was as I was about to make a terribly lame joke that Calla moved. She winced slightly as she tried to sit up but Eric was quick to stop her. “Don’t move too fast.”
“Where are we..?”
“The infirmary, still at Leúchtend.”
“We won?”
“Yes, Achaicus beat Lazarus.”
She paused for a moment processing, “...Markos?”
“He’ll be fine.”
“And Charles?” she asked next.
“Right here.” I spoke up and she turned to look at me with wide confused eyes. It was the first time I had seen her without make-up, and I was surprised to see that her eyelashes were partially white. Was she part fairy?
“That really hurt when you pressed on my side.” She mumbled the complaint.
“Ahhh, right. Sorry about that.” I was having to apologize a lot for one day.
She reached out to take my hand, squeezing it in hers and catching me off guard, “Thank you.” These people with their monotone and lack of expression, I had no idea if she meant it or not either.
“You, I, welcome?” Good job Charles, that made no sense, I thought bitterly.
‘No kidding.’ Ron answered bored, though I ignored him.
Calla nodded like she understood regardless and turned back to Eric, “I’m so sorry…”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I wasn’t strong enough, you had to fight them on your own. I let you down… I’m useless.”
“Hardly.” he responded simply and tears began to well in her eyes. She needed more than a single word answer and it took Eric a moment to realize it before he elaborated, “Calla, you killed a dragon single handedly. There’s not one other person in this entire castle that could say that.”
“I'm sorry…”
It took Eric some effort, but he stood with his cane and moved close enough to hug her. “Don't be, you have nothing to be sorry for.”
Calla didn’t stay awake long after that, only long enough to have a small amount of food before settling in to sleep more peacefully.
***
Markos was the next to wake the following day and when he did Claire threw her arms around him without any care. Dissolving into relieved sobs. He winced but made no complaint as he slowly returned the hug, pulling her close against him as if it brought him some comfort. She murmured something in his ear and he froze.
“...I beg your pardon?” he asked quietly.
However she didn’t repeat herself, instead she slowly let go of him, holding his face in her hands, “Are you alright? How do you feel?” she asked the questions in rapid fire.
He seemed unable to comprehend what she had said, and it took a moment for him to find his voice again. “I’m okay… How are you here?” He covered one of her hands with his and closed his eyes.
“Oh well... I-”
“She insisted I bring her.” Ávila mused as she entered the room and sat heavily on the edge of Markos’s bed and his eyes snapped open. For a moment he looked feral, like a startled cat, then his expression settled into a hard glare.
“It’s dangerous for her to be here.”
“She’s fine. Can’t lift a sword though.”
“They’re heavy.” Claire agreed, looking apologetic.
“What happened to Lazarus?”
“Achaicus beat him in combat and he is currently imprisoned under guard.”
“How many guards? Is he weakened? Is there salt?” He asked, gradually getting more irritated as he tried to get out of the bed.
“Relax, broken man. Everything is under control. Lazarus is well guarded.”
“And then who is protecting Dunkel if you’re here?” He growled, still annoyed.
“Tougo is at Dunkel and Achaicus is in control here. No one is going to attack anyone. And if they do, they’ll regret it.”
He didn’t seem satisfied with her answers, but Claire urging him to lay back down subdued him as Ávila continued to chatter away. I won’t pretend to understand how fairy magic and healing works, but apparently broken bones would only take a few days to mend. Not that he seemed pleased with even that, he was up and walking by the next day, despite Claire insisting he rest.
***
Days passed and Eric rarely left the room. The longest he was gone was only a few hours and that was only when Ávila agreed to stay in his place. There was a ghoul on guard at the door at all times and Achaicus visited regularly.
He sat beside Nathaniel on the opposite side of Eric and the pair of them waited for hours at a time in silence.
“Achaicus,” It was a female fairy who spoke, not anyone I knew, and two others accompanied her. It was regular that someone would come looking for him with some request or another, and he would often reluctantly leave. “The repair team are having trouble matching the mortar color to the original. They would like to know which alternative color you would prefer-”
“Get out.” Eric said calmly.
“But I-”
“Don't make me repeat myself. If the matter isn’t urgent, don’t interrupt.”
The woman looked unsure, her bright yellow eyes flicking to Achaicus for confirmation. “Pick whatever color is closest to the original.”
“Of course my lord.” She bowed appreciatively before leaving.
“You don’t have to answer their stupid questions.” Eric told him annoyed.
“I do…”
“No, you don’t.”
“I’m the leader, it’s my job now to handle any issues that arise.”
“Get Molly to deal with it.”
“If you would allow her into the room, perhaps I could.”
“With her gift? I think not.” he muttered as he got up and limped away to speak with someone at the doors. I couldn’t hear what was said, but I was sure he was barring anyone else from entering unless it was life or death.
“I see your attitude problem never went away.” Achaicus muttered, though he seemed grateful despite his words.
“I heard that.” Eric commented, lightly tugging on his hair on the way past when he returned.
“Don’t pull my hair.”
“I’ll do what I like.”
“Then I’ll have you thrown into the dungeons.”
“Please.” Eric snorted, they were surprisingly amicable, in a hostile kind of way.
“I don’t know how Nathaniel stands you.”
“Same way you do.”
“With a knife to the eye?”
“Careful, I’m sure you remember what happened last time you commented on my eyes.”
Achaicus looked shocked, his ears heating with embarrassment. It was clear Eric had mentioned something they weren’t supposed to talk about and it took him a full moment to process before he could respond, “I was drunk!”
“So was I.”
“I can’t leave you two alone for a second can I?” Nathaniel asked softly and they both paused.
“Brother…” Achaicus murmured, turning his full attention to Nathaniel and hugging him tightly, “Finally…”
“You’re still in bandages, how long has it been?” He returned the hug gently patting his brother’s hair to soothe him.
“Never mind about me.”
“It’s been four days.” Eric answered for him.
“And… Our father?”
“Securely locked up.” Achaicus assured as he slowly let go, “But you, you look awful. And you need to cut your hair, it’s getting too long.”
“Like you’re one to talk.”
Achaicus chuckled, “I’m glad you’re awake…”
“I didn’t expect to be.” he answered honestly.
“Don’t say things like that.” Eric scolded him and he looked apologetic.
“Were you hurt?”
“He had not a scratch on him.” Achaicus answered before Eric could.
“...I’m so glad…”
“Yeah, okay, why don’t you worry about yourself?” Eric grumbled uncomfortably.
For a moment it looked like Nathaniel was going to question him further however a commotion at the door drew their attention.
“I-I was told n-not to let anyone in..”
“Nonsense, I’m their mother.”
“It’s fine Hanta,” Eric called casually, and the woman quickly sidestepped him.
She was slender with no curves, and surprisingly young. It looked like she was in her 30’s at most and I chose not to even try and work out the math on that. Her hair was long and white with a red-ish hue, while her eyes were the same purple as Markos’s. She was wearing a black dress and matching gloves all the way to her elbows.
“Mother, what are you doing here?” Nathaniel asked coldly and she stopped awkwardly.
“...You’re my son’s…”
Neither answered but I recognised their expressions. It was the same one Claire and I had the one time we had accidentally ran into our parents while we were out shopping. Polite, awkward, uncertainty. Like they didn’t want to talk to her, but didn’t know how to tell her to leave.
The woman looked to Eric and he nodded slightly so she continued, “I- well… I know, I haven’t been much of a mother to you… I couldn’t protect you from your father as I should have… But I would like to remedy that… If I could… may I hug you..?”
“...No..” Nathaniel answered for them both quietly, tensely.
“Oh… I see, that’s okay… I deserve that. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. I’m glad to see you’re both okay.” Again she was met with silence as neither of her son’s answered and she shifted her weight awkwardly, “Right, well… Please come see me when you are able so that we might talk. If you want… I mean, I would like that… if you could…”
“Good day, mother.” Achaicus bid her farewell curtly, and she gave a small bow before departing.
The whole interaction made me uncomfortable, the woman was trying. That was more than Claire’s and my mother ever did. It hurt to watch and the awkward silence that followed only made it worse as the weight hung heavy in the air.
“You should speak with her.” Eric said gently.
“Since when were you on her side? And why should we? She never did anything to help us.” Nathaniel answered bitterly but Achaicus looked less sure.
Eric didn’t get the chance to respond before the doors opened and Baltzar returned with Markos. “It’s good to see you’re awake. Now you can put a muzzle on your dog, his barking was becoming tiresome.”
“Careful Baltzar, his bite is far worse than his bark.” Markos mused.
“I’m not a dog, so you had both better shut up.” Eric snapped in response.
“See, now that is exactly what I’m talking about, and I'm sure you can imagine my dismay when I learned commands don’t work on him.”
“Then I’m sure your dismay will only increase when you learn that my brother prefers not to command his pet.”
“He’s in fact extremely willful, and commands often backfire when given to him, so I prefer not to waste my efforts giving them. Now what is it that you want?”
Baltzar looked displeased while Eric’s expression didn’t change, “I came to inform Achaicus that we have been unable to locate Radomir, or Belle, and there are a handful of guards unaccounted for.”
‘Ahhh, your old friend.’ Ronové mused and I felt a chill run down my spine.
“Quiet.” I mumbled under my breath, though no one seemed to notice as they continued.
“I would suggest Radomir has likely fled to Europe with a small group, and that we should expect a visit from Ælfric.” Markos speculated casually although the notion seemed to make everyone nervous.
“I’ve already sent a letter to our grandfather, hopefully it will arrive before Radomir.” Achaicus muttered, rubbing his temples.
It was then that the doors to the infirmary were pushed open with some force. “Listen you fucking shit- Let me into this fucking room!” Killian shouted, his bright eyes were crazed with rage and it looked like he had run the entire way from wherever he had been.
“I-I really can’t, I-I’ve been given strict instructions-” Hanta looked distressed, this was the third time he had been forced to tell someone they weren’t allowed to enter and he looked more than a little flustered.
Baltzar rolled his eyes, “Calm down Killian, it’s not like we can’t hear you from the doorway, what is it?”
“Lazarus is fucking, gone!”
Achaicus and Nathaniel both tensed, while Baltzar clicked his tongue in annoyance. “What do you mean gone?!”
“I mean, his cell is fucking EMPTY.”
“That’s not possible.” Markos hissed, “I double checked his containment myself.”
“What do you think then? I’m just making this shit up!? He’s not fucking in there!”
“Well, what is in there?”
It took Killian a second to understand what he meant, “Nothing, there’s nothing. No traces of anything, no magic, no signs of a struggle, nothing, just salt. It’s like he vanished.”
“So send the guards out. I want everyone searching for him all the way to the borders of our lands.” Achaicus spoke up at last.
“Brother, I need to return to Dunkel in case he attacks the castle.” Nathaniel added.
“You don't need to do any of that, it’s pointless, and you’re in no state to travel let alone defend a castle.” Eric sighed, he was the only one who hadn’t reacted to the news in any way.
“You sound certain. How can you be sure?”
“Lazarus isn’t a concern, you need to rest…” he spoke more gently to Nathaniel and he hesitated slightly, though he said nothing more.
“What’s that mean he’s not a concern? If he attacks us now we can mark this as the shortest reign in history, or an altogether failed take over!” Baltzar sneered but Markos spoke up.
“...The Orphan is right. Lazarus has been sitting in a room with salt and received no medical attention. He’s slow and weak. He won't attack Dunkel, it’s more likely he will simply try to flee to Grosartig like Radomir and searching will waste resources. If we simply set up barrier points instead, we’ll know where he is when he crosses one.”
“You’re always just so smart aren’t you Markos?”
“It's just simple logic, Baltzar. If the orphan can come to the same conclusion, I’m sure you can too.”
“Fine, want to place a wager on when he will cross a barrier point?”
Markos smiled, “Certainly.”
***
With the new development most of them left. Although Markos was forced to stay because Claire refused to let him leave after he began bleeding through his bandages. Hanta swapped out for Yura, though she was more interested in talking to Nathaniel. Or at least she was, until Eric told her to leave so he could rest in no uncertain terms, and then he took over the watch himself when she departed.
There wasn’t really a lot to do in the meantime. I was too afraid to leave the room without someone else with me, and Ron must’ve run out of the energy to torment me so he was quiet as well. Vaguely I was aware that I was supposed to be in court, but I tried to think about other things instead of my torpedoed career.
When Calla woke up I talked with her for a while. She's a little bit hard to talk to only because she’s so similar to Eric. She doesn't hold conversation organically, answers questions minimally and her only hobbies are training and sharpening weapons. I could see why my sister doesn't like her, Claire likes people who can talk for hours and Calla was not like that.
At dusk Eric closed all the curtains and woke Nathaniel when Achaicus arrived with a trolley of food for us. Initially Molly had tried to enter the room with him, but Eric was quick to intercept her, “You’re not welcome in here. Get out.”
“I’m simply helping my master.” she responded calmly.
“I don’t care. I said get out. You know full well you are not to enter this room.”
“So snarky little orphan, what’s got you so tense?”
“Out.” he repeated, his hand moving to the sword on his hip and she smiled.
“Very well.”
“She means no harm.” Achaicus complained.
“I said she’s not allowed in and I mean it. Unless you want me to-”
“No. No. I understand.”
“Good.”
Nathaniel looked curious as did I, “I would love to know what he has over you brother~”
“It’s nothing.”
“I could command him to tell me you realize-” He stopped surprised when Eric covered his mouth with his hand.
“Command me, and I swear I’ll make you regret it. Now, shut up and eat your food.” he mused slowly letting him go once his point was made. Though Nathaniel still looked shocked as Eric came to sit beside me instead. “Don't eat the fresh meat. That’s only for the fae.”
I didn’t need him to remind me what it was.
Once dinner was over, Achaicus left and Hanta returned to guard the door. Truthfully I don’t remember falling asleep, I had been talking to Eric, then the next thing I knew I was out like a light.
I woke groggily to the sound of hushed voices, it was an ungodly hour of the morning. I couldn’t read the clock across the room but I didn’t need to. Moonlight streamed in through the only open window, it was beside Nathaniel’s bed and I guessed Eric must have opened it for him. Beside me Calla was sleeping peacefully, her soft breathing was rhythmic and soothing. Across the room my sister had dragged another bed over to Markos’s so that she could lay next to him and they were sleeping still.
At the farthest end of the room Hanta had barricaded the door with a bed and was laying down on it. I assume he too was asleep since I couldn’t see the glow of his eyes and slowly I came to realize the voices were Eric and Nathaniel speaking quietly to one another.
“Stop being so cryptic, where were you?” Nathaniel was asking, though he struggled to keep his eyes open as Eric was petting his hair, slowly lulling him into sleep.
“Can you just go back to sleep already?”
“You did get lost didn't you?” he teased and Eric looked bemused.
“No, I was there. Now hush, let’s not forget you weren’t supposed to be in that courtyard.”
“…Are you mad at me?”
“Yes.” Eric answered evenly, “You put yourself and Charles in danger. Lied to him to get him to do what you wanted. What exactly was your plan if you didn’t find Achaicus..?”
“Doesn’t matter…”
“You planned on offering yourself to him in exchange for me didn't you?”
“…It would have worked..”
“That’s not the point. I wanted you safe, and you willfully disregarded what I wanted only to make yourself feel better.”
“I couldn’t let you get hurt...”
“I asked you to trust me and you didn’t.” Nathaniel looked guilty as Eric appeared annoyed. However after a moment he sighed, letting it go as he continued more gently. “Please don’t do anything like that again alright? I thought I would lose you both, and Calla. It wasn’t fun.”
“I’m sorry…”
“...You’re forgiven.”
Nathaniel seemed relieved to hear it, he closed his eyes for a moment and I assumed he would sleep, but instead he spoke again. “I thought about what you said, you know...”
“Did you?” He mused, resting his cheek on the mattress as he continued to pet Nathaniel’s hair, “I wasn’t sure you would remember.”
“I do remember.”
“And..?”
Nathaniel hesitated, taking in a deep breath, “… I don’t have to do what you asked of me. There is nothing stopping me from commanding you to do as I wish.” He began though Eric remained perfectly calm. If I didn’t know him better I would have said he looked bored. “However, I understand that if I were to do only what I wanted, you would be unhappy. It’s not my desire to make you miserable… So I will agree to your terms. You have nothing to fear from me, I won’t command you again.”
Eric sat up mildly surprised, as if he had been expecting him to say something else. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes… I’ve tried keeping you against your will, and I’ve tried letting you go. Neither of those things made me happy.”
“What would make you happy?”
“...If you stayed near.” he mumbled honestly but Eric didn’t answer him, he was waiting for something? I couldn’t say what it might have been, but Nathaniel seemed to understand. “Please don’t make me say the words...”
“Is it so difficult?” he sighed and Nathaniel averted his gaze, it looked like he regretted saying anything. However Eric gently tilted his chin up and I couldn’t see past him as he leaned in closer. I think he might have said something but I didn’t hear it. Or maybe there was some weird cultural thing I didn’t know about?
When Eric pulled away Nathaniel looked uncertain, if not mildly embarrassed. “...Does that mean you’ll stay?”
“I’ll stay some of the time. I still have work to do, and I need to help Charles… I sort of got him fired from his job.”
“I thought you fixed that?”
“I tried… but he missed his court date for me. It was yesterday…”
“...I can compel anyone you need me to.”
Eric smiled tightly, “Don’t tempt me. More wrongs don’t make things right.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“If you have to ask for permission to ask, I'm inclined to say no.”
“You said my father was of no concern, how did you know that?”
“Let’s not talk about that right now…”
“You know something don’t you?”
“Nathaniel, please… trust me, not tonight.”
The fae regarded him for a long moment, “I want you to take my car again, stop riding that death trap.” he bargained instead.
“I suppose that means you’re not giving my bike back?”
“What are you talking about? I don’t have it.” he said bemused and Eric scoffed.
“Please. I know it was you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if someone’s stolen your motorcycle I owe them a word of gratitude.”
“You truly don’t have it?”
“Regrettably no.”
“I’d like to say I only saved you for my bike, so finding out you don’t have it is unfortunate.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” he chuckled quietly and Eric rolled his eyes.
“You’re insufferable.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes…” I thought I saw Eric smile when he spoke and Nathaniel leaned in close to him so that I couldn’t see between them. Neither of them spoke again, or if they did I didn’t hear it. Not that I was really paying attention anymore.
I’m not sure how much time passed as I drifted between wakefulness and dreamless sleep, but it felt like hours before I got up to use the restroom. Moving painstakingly slow, trying to be as quiet as I could so that I wouldn’t disturb anyone. By then Eric was asleep, leaning on the bed over Nathaniel and they didn’t stir as I passed.
The most challenging part about getting out of the rooms was getting past Hanta. Thankfully he had left a small gap between himself and the door and I managed to squeeze through.
In the hall it was dark and quiet, “I could use a little help.” I whispered.
‘What’s the matter, can't see in the dark?’ Ronové taunted.
“Obviously not.”
‘That must be a ‘weird cultural thing’.’
“It doesn’t even make sense, why would my lack of eyes be cultural?”
‘Hopeless.’ he mused, but the hall suddenly brightened as my eyes enhanced.
“Thanks.” I grumbled.
Being able to see more made the area only slightly less terrifying and when I heard voices coming from the hall ahead I panicked. I didn’t want to run into any fae in the dark. Without a second thought about it I ducked into the nearest room, closing the door quietly without looking around.
“Stop being ridiculous, his aura is human.”
“Baltzar, I fucking, SWEAR he was dead! I saw it with my own eyes, but he crawled out of the rubble like a fucking- I don’t even know!”
“You also thought Markos and his pet were dead, but you were clearly mistaken. Now I have better things to do than entertain your paranoia.”
“I’m not crazy, I know what I fucking saw! Can you check him with your magic or something-” he stopped abruptly. They were right outside the door, and I realized I must’ve hidden exactly where they intended to go.
“Who’s there?”
“What are you two conspiring about?” I recognized Markos’s voice.
“Nothing, Killian is paranoid. He thinks Nathaniel’s pet isn’t human.”
“Human’s don’t get, fucking, stabbed and buried in rubble and walk away without a scratch!” Killian hissed.
“Nothing does, so clearly you were mistaken.” Markos assured.
“I’m not-!”
“Killian.” Baltzar warned and Killian lowered his voice automatically.
“Fucks sake.”
“Why are you up at this hour then Markos?”
“Paranoia.”
“Checking the halls for Lazarus?”
“It doesn’t hurt to be vigilant.”
“You just can’t stand the thought of losing. There’s no way he’s still in the castle.”
“You can never be too careful.”
Baltzar snorted, “Right.”
“I suggest you return to your quarters now, lurking in the halls doesn’t look good.” Markos mused casually, though the threat in his words wasn’t subtle and I heard footsteps departing.
‘Makes you wonder why he’s lurking in the halls doesn’t it?’ Ron commented bemused.I didn’t answer, if I spoke now I was sure he would hear me.
“You can come out now, Charles.” Markos commented and I froze. Momentarily considering whether or not I believed he truly knew I was there. “I know you’re there, don’t play games.”
Reluctantly I opened the door to see Markos leaning against the wall with his arms folded, his purple eyes glowing in the darkness. “You shouldn’t walk about the halls without someone accompanying you.”
“I’m a big boy, I think I can find the bathroom on my own.”
“Is that why you’re hiding in the armory?”
“...No.”
“You’re a weak bag of flesh in a castle of the fae. Best to watch your step. Now come, I’ll take you back.”
I didn’t move, “Why are you out here?”
‘That’s not smart Charlie boy.’ Ronové commented tensely.
“I don’t need to explain myself to you.” he answered simply as he began to walk expecting me to follow.
I was beginning to understand why Eric guarded his emotions so carefully. This was a dangerous place, and we were in dangerous company.
NEXT
Chapter list

Beatport’s Definitive History of House (1980, 1990, 2000, 2010)
House, Electronica, Techno (Peak Time / Driving), Dance / Electro Pop, Tech House, Deep House, Minimal / Deep Tech, Big Room, Progressive House, Electro House, UK Garage / Bassline, Afro House, Melodic House & Techno
https://minimalfreaks.co/2021/06/beatports-definitive-history-of-house/
88 Tracks:

24 Hour Experience - Together (Original Mix) 04:44 124bpm F Âme - Rej (Original Mix) 08:08 124bpm Armand van Helden - U Don't Know Me (feat. Duane Harden) (Original Mix) 08:04 130bpm Armando - Downfall (Original Mix) 04:47 120bpm Atlantic Ocean - Waterfall (Original Mix) 05:02 Avicii - Levels (Original Version) 05:35 Banana Republic, Judy O'Beya - Catch The Feeling (Tuff Jam's Catch The Dub) 06:25 Bang The Party - Bang Bang You're Mine (Full Vocal Remix) 06:11 Barbara Tucker - Beautiful People (Underground Network Mix) 09:06 Bedrock - For What You Dream Of feat. KYO (Full On Renaissance Mix) 10:49 98bpm C Benny Benassi presents The Biz - Satisfaction (Isak Original Extended) 06:39 130bpm Bodyrox - Yeah Yeah (D Ramirez Vocal Club Mix) 08:18 126bpm Calvin Harris, Dua Lipa - One Kiss (Extended Mix) 04:42 124bpm Am Cece Rogers - Someday (Original Mix) 07:17 119bpm Crystal Waters - Gypsy Woman (Original Mix) 09:41 119bpm Cultural Vibe - Ma Foom Bey (Love Chant Version) 05:34 116bpm Daft Punk - One More Time (Original Mix) 05:20 122bpm De'Lacy - Hideaway (Deep Dish Club 12" Remix) 11:52 122bpm Delroy Edwards - Feelings (Original Mix) 05:59 Disclosure, FATOUMATA DIAWARA - Douha (Mali Mali) 04:54 DJ Boring - Winona (Original Mix) 08:31 DJ Koze - The Geklöppel Continues 2 (Original Mix) 05:57 DJ Mes, Rescue - Hornblower (Original Mix) 06:07 DJ Sneak - U Can't Hide From Your Bud (Original Mix) 08:51 Donna Summer - I Feel Love (Original Mix) 05:51 Double 99 - Ripgroove (Original Mix) 06:10 126bpm Duke Dumont, A\*M\*E - Need U (100%) (Skreamix) 06:32 124bpm Eddie Richards - D-Comm (Original Mix) 06:55 126bpm Gm Emmanuel Jal, Abdul Gadir Salim - Baai (Riot Stereo \& SURAJ Remix) 04:43 Equation - I'll Say A Prayer 4 U (Original Mix) 05:59 124bpm Farley Jackmaster Funk - Jack The Bass (Jack The Dick) (Original Mix) 06:40 124bpm Fedde Le Grand - Put Your Hands Up For Detroit (Original Mix) 06:36 128bpm Felix da Housecat - Freakadelica (Original Mix) 04:44 Floyd Lavine - Nohme Ne (Original Mix) 06:35 Frankie Knuckles - Baby Wants to Ride (feat. Jamie Principle) (Original Mix) 08:34 132bpm Gemini - In My Head (Freaks Move This Way Vocal Dubby) 06:53 Gene Farris - 4 Minutes OF Pleasure (Original Mix) 06:04 132bpm Green Velvet - La La Land (Original Mix) 05:20 Herbert - Back To The Start (Herbert) (Bonus Track) 07:02 Idjut Boys - Roll Over And Snore (The Long Stayer Mix) 12:26 126bpm E♭ maj Inner City - Good Life (Remastered) (Extended Mix) 07:22 123bpm Jamie Jones - Amazon (Original Mix) 07:17 124bpm Jerome Sydenham, Fatima Njai, Mario Punchard - Trans Afro Express (Vocal Dub Mix) 06:58 Jesse Saunders - On \& On (Original Mega) 06:22 121bpm Jessie Ware - Running (Original Mix) 05:30 Josh Wink - Higher State of Consciousness (Tweekin Acid Funk Mix) 06:17 Julio Bashmore - Au Seve (Original Mix) 06:33 124bpm Jungle Wonz - The Jungle (Remastered) 06:07 Kerri Chandler - Bar A Thym (Original Mix) 07:24 126bpm Kyle Hall, KMFH - Measure 2 Measure (Original Mix) 06:42 119bpm E Leftfield - Not Forgotten (Dub Mix) 04:46 120bpm B M.A.N.D.Y., Booka Shade - Body Language (Original Mix) 07:16 65bpm G♭ min Makesome Breaksome - Nightshift (Mr. C Remix) 06:25 Marshall Jefferson - The House Music Anthem (Move Your Body) 07:48 122bpm Masters At Work, Ken Lou, India - I Can't Get No Sleep (Ken Lou 12” Mix) 06:45 123bpm A#m Mike Dunn - Magic Feet (Original Mix) 06:03 Monique Bingham, Black Coffee - Deep in the Bottom (of Africa) 06:33 128bpm Mood II Swing, Carol Sylvan - Closer (feat. Carol Sylvan) (Swing II Mood Dub) 05:47 123bpm Moodymann - Mahogany Brown (Original Mix) 05:33 119bpm Mr. Fingers - Can You Feel It (Original Mix) 05:53 112bpm Nicole Moudaber - Dilemma (Original Mix) 07:36 124bpm Nightcrawlers - Push The Feeling On (Mk Dub Revisited Edit) 04:03 123bpm Palms Trax - Equation (Original Mix) 07:49 124bpm Patrick Topping - Get Beasty (Original Mix) 06:15 123bpm Phuture - Acid Tracks (Original Mix) 12:17 120bpm Ricardo Villalobos - Fizheuer Zieheuer (Original Mix) 37:11 124bpm Bb Robin S, Sandeville - Show Me Love (Extended Mix) 04:00 124bpm Dm Ron Hardy - Sensation (Short Version) 03:30 117bpm Sandy Rivera, LT Brown - Come Into My Room (feat. LT Brown) (Take It Back Mix) 07:45 124bpm Sebastian Sellares - Juno (Original Mix) 08:27 Shackleton - Blood on My Hands (Ricardo Villalobos' Apocalypso Now Mix) 18:34 127bpm Sly And Lovechild - The World According to Sly \& Lovechild (Andrew Weatherall Soul of Europe Mix) 08:21 Solardo, Paul Woolford - Tear It Up feat. Pamela Fernandez (Extended Mix) 05:59 125bpm Fmin Solomun - Wellenfänger (Original Mix) 09:05 126bpm Stardust - Music Sounds Better With You (Original Mix) 06:43 124bpm Dmin Steve Poindexter - Work That Mutha Fucker (Remix) 05:56 124bpm Steve Silk Hurley - Jack Your Body (1986 Club Mix) 05:06 122bpm Swedish House Mafia - Save The World (Original Mix) 06:50 126bpm Tama Sumo - Iron Glance (Original Mix) 06:49 Ten City - That's The Way Love Is (Underground Mix / Extended Version) 08:11 120bpm Terry Francis - Took From Me (Original Mix) 08:15 132bpm E The Sponges - Feelin' Alright (Original Mix) 03:07 The Todd Terry Project - Bango (To the Batmobile) (Club Bang) 05:26 Theo Parrish - Sky Walking (Original Mix) 08:56 121bpm Traxmen, Paul Johnson - Outta My Way (Original Mix) 05:32 Tuccillo \& Kiko Navarro, Amor - Lovery (Yoruba Soul Mix) 08:25 121bpm Ultra Naté - Free (Original Mix) 05:53 124bpm Yolanda - Your Time is Up (Original Mix) 04:27 122bpm 

So I (16 M) buss/food-run part-time for a pretty well known restaurant in my town. I made it very clear when I began working there I could not work most Sundays, and if they really needed me to ask before scheduling me. My boss has made it a very big deal we can no longer put RTOs in for holidays, but we can find coverage. So to start off, I didn’t even expect to be working Easter Sunday since my boss did ask me or confirm if I was able to work that day, so I wasn’t gonna ask for coverage for a day I knew I wasn’t gonna be scheduled.
Yesterday, I go into work and see me on the schedule for a double Sunday. Once I saw this I texted my boss telling her I wasn’t gonna make it because of the reasons stated above, and also because I’m 16 and I have a family that would be pissed if I didn’t make it. I told her I was looking for coverage but so far nobody has agreed to. If I could work I would but I’m 90% sure my mom won’t even let me, as she’s my ride, and we’re going over to my grandmothers for the day.
Any advice on what to say/do would be appreciated. What do you think, Reddit?

I’m sure this is probably really uncommon, but I’m thinking someone must have run into this scenario:
If I have a gold card, which has the best points for dining out, and I had an especially big travel year coming up so I want to get a platinum card (travel points, Clear credit, etc) - would I be able to move backward to the gold after a year or so after the heavy travel period is done? I spend a bunch on restaurants every year - I really hate to lose that. Conversely; I think the travel perks are a bigger benefit this year.
If moving back isn’t possible, I’d just stay gold.

First Part Start Previous Next

Dear Diary,

We're getting ready to sail, but for the first time, like ever, we're sailing without full holds. The important thing for me is to figure out the plushies, keep up on my studies, and figure out how to help with the mission.
I've been working on the modeling for the two versions and putting up some concepts on social media, and people are going nuts wanting one. There are going to be knockoffs, and some people have already done little art projects of him. I like the knitted one, and Greg was a little exasperated when I showed him the reactions. He just muttered about being famous where nobody even knows his name. I reminded him it's his fault for being adorable. He said he can't help that everyone else has bad taste and to wait until I meet a good boy, whatever that is.
Someone got a good picture of the Lord Justiciar pinning the medal on, and now that's become the Sneaky Salute meme. I'm seeing it used a lot reacting to heartwarming stories, like about an orphaned litter being taken car of by a different animal, or a pet waiting for an owner who passed away, and mostly for kids doing kind things. Then there are the funny uses, mostly by teenagers on posts of other teenagers hurting themselves doing sports. Of course, there are text edits, but a lot of them make no sense unless you're from the culture of the meme, or maybe not even then. Why is the medal labeled "hoidvao," Greg "me when I get good grades," and the Lord Justiciar "brood matron?" Why is that one so popular? Jecauvia is weird.
With things getting a bit less hectic, things are going back to routine. Kind of. Mom is still busy lining up buyers at our next stop, Daddy is still going over the course with Uncle Yaem, and Greg is still working on what he calls "combat reediness." He told me to bring everyone past their Halfway to the armory to talk about that.
There was Greg, cleaning the sidearm Uncle Yaem machined for him. It looks like a scaled down electronic pulse pistol with the rack of weapons looming over us behind him when Yaeg, Mael, Brev, Wex, and I arived.
"First thing's first," he said as his eyes lifted to pin Yaem, "I was harsh with you. I'm not sorry for telling you that you couldn't come fight, but I am sorry that I wasn't kinder about it. Will you forgive me?"
Yaem blinked and then said slowly, "I don't know the details, but I know you had to fight for real when you were younger than me... I have been meaning to apologize for how immature I was about the mission... and I wanted to thank you for caring enough to correct me. If you feel you should have been more kind about keeping me safe, I forgive the harsh words. Thank you, Sneaky."
"Good, that's good," he said as he moved on to cleaning a different part, "The five of you aren't exactly kids anymore, are you?" We shook our heads. "But you're not adults either." We shook our heads again. He seemed to be searching the weapon for something, "The most precious thing on this ship is the innocent. The littles are the most innocent, the littles depend on us entirely, so you must suffer damage to your innocence to protect them. I remind you that you voted for this, all five of you did. The Among the Star Tided We Sing sails into danger."
Brev rolled her eyes and started talking, "Stars, we like totall-"
"Stop." The coldness of his voice and eyes sent a chill down my spine, and hers too from her face, "We are talking about keeping the littles alive and safe. Do you understand?"
She gulped and answered, "Yes."
"I don't like it, but I'm an officer, and in this capacity we will be maintaining discipline."
"Yes, sir."
He flinched a little and continued, "There is a scenario in which you might have to fight. Therefore, I refuse to leave you defenseless in that scenario. In the case that we're boarded, and the adults are either overwhelmed or pinned down in a different part of the ship, and the boarders goal is kidnapping, it will fall to you five. Your little brothers and sisters, and cousins and friends will be depending on you. Do you think you're ready?"
"No, sir," Yaem, Brev, and I said immediately.
Mael just looked uncomfortable and Wex shrugged and said, "I don't even know what ready is."
"First, we're going to familiarize you with our most reliable long guns."
"Not the sidearms?"
"The idea that it is easier to shoot a smaller weapon is not correct. Lives might depend on your accuracy, and the long barrel is easier to aim and stabilize. You will be leaning the four hand grip for maximum control," he scowled at Wex and said, "I don't care how stupid you look when you're saving your little sister from slavery."
Nobody felt like complaining after that.
He told us that we'd be rotating in for training on real weapons after the grown ups and dismissed us.
He's weighty when he's serious.

Journal Entry: 38. Date: 1/7/6. Name: Greg George.

I woke up in a cold sweat this morning. I was in the pit again, except instead of fighting the googly eyed fucks made me watch them inject Lucy and Linus. Thank God I woke up before they...
Jesus in a tank, subconscious, did you have to come up with something like that to be afraid of?
I had to hold my plasma caster for an hour to calm down from that shit.
That's the kind of nightmare I don't want to process, I just want to fucking forget. Fuck me sideways, that shit was terrifying.
But this is a sanity journal, so no holding shit back. It's the rule.
Anyway, I'm in more memes, and apparently the idea of me being a plush toy has the net fucking on fire, which is good for sales, which I apparently get an even split with the other four people in the project and the ship. Kind of threw me for a loop that Lucy wanted to do it that way, but she wouldn't be talked out of it.
Some weirdo knitted me.
Like a little yarn doll of me.
Fucking xenos have no goddamn taste, I fucking swear. If they think I'm cute wait until they meet a Doggo. Not a good translation, but I think "good boy" is good enough. Heh. The best thing would be to show the xenos a Doggo with their pet dog. That shit would be funny.
Earthborn adorable is going to make toy companies so much fucking money.
That, and the dart wars. We're already setting up a more structured match at the next station, and since we're going into hyperspace we'll be off the network except for what's basically email or hypercom calls. I'll have someone help me set up an email for the dart wars later, I don't want the address to be accidentally hilarious. If I do something funny, I want it to be on purpose.
Anyway, I briefed the big kids on their extra training today. I think I got it through their heads that it's not a game. Fuck, I hate being an officer. Fucking getting sir-ed fucking sucks.
Anyway, the meeting with the Lord Justiciar, got his name, but fuck spelling that shit. I'm just calling him Fancypants. The meeting with Fancypants went pretty well. Despite him being a big fancy lord or whatever, he was pretty cool. Not as cool as Pops, but at least he wasn't stuffy. Turns out being the captain of a Justiciar is what makes him the lord, and it's meant to avoid confusion when coordinating several civvy ships in an emergency anti-crime action.
I continue to amaze the fuck out of everyone by being sober from drinking tea, and I blew their fucking minds by telling them it's a mild stimulant for me, and I'd brew it stronger if it tasted better. Except Pops, he already knows.
This lead on to what might intoxicate me, and I had a genius fucking idea. I described how we make hooch. From the fermentation of the mash, to distillation, to cask aging. Apparently, they have hooch, unaged shit, but still glorious alcohol, just in tiny amounts since a quarter of a tablespoon, at a rough guess, is enough to make them puke. Which is what it's for, emergency stomach evacuation. When I told them that my preferred method of consumption is to drink what I approximated to be two ounces with the tea over an hour or so, the servant lady fucking fainted. When asked whether I have a high tolerance to the word I'm guessing is alcohol, I told them no. They don't believe me.
It's whatever.
The bad news is that our armory is stocked with about as good as it gets for weapons.
The good news is that armor is available.
What the fucker wanted in exchange...
Oh, I'll get you back for this Fancypants.
I'll het you back.

Log: 6000001.1.03, Personal, Captain Yormdrill

It is daunting, but we are committed. It's been difficult to chart the course with the lowest likelihood of a pirate trap, but it's not like they're consistent about where they rip innocent ships out of hyperspace. Our weapons systems haven't been used since Yaemdrill and I bought her, but I have kept them maintained. Hopefully we won't have cause to use them. Hopefully they'll be enough to drive any pirates away, and Gregory won't have cause to use his skills. Hopefully.
Tea with the Lord Justiciar was interesting. Thankfully, we were not required to dress formally, so I just selected some nice clothes rather than wearing a work jumpsuit. Perhaps appropriate for going to a restaurant, while Gregory did similarly. Unfortunately, to his view, his nice clothes are somewhat brightly colored which only served to make him look more adorable. We were admitted to his private quarters, which were rather lavish, as he had a tea room.
"Apologies, my wife will not be joining us," he said as a maid poured the tea, "she is busy passing judgement on some criminals."
"My wife also sends her regrets, as she is cargo master to the Upon the Star Tides We Sing, she is preoccupied in filling her holds. Our most recent course has been a significant loss."
"I don't have a wife," Gregory said when the Lord Justiciar looked to him, then he amazed the Lord Justiciar and Major or the Landers by nonchalantly sipping enough tea for a normal person to quickly feel its effects. "Like I said last time, my name seems hard on you, so just go with either Greg or Sneaky."
"Shouldn't you slow down?" the Major asked.
"You worried I'll get inebriated? This stuff is a mild stimulant for me."
"You jest, surly," the Lord Justiciar said as he stirred some sweetener into his tea.
"Drop an ice cube in this scorching stuff and I'll gulp it down right now," he said before blowing across the rim to cool it.
"It's true, he brews it far stronger for himself at home."
"I'm limited by taste more than anything at this point. Any stronger and it goes from pleasantly bitter to disgustingly bitter."
Our hosts looked shocked in a most satisfying way, and the Lord Justiciar forgot himself well enough to ask, "Do your people get intoxicated by anything in the void?"
"Oh, lots of stuff. We have stimulants that can be dangerous, painkillers that can be abused, mushrooms and chemicals that cause hallucinations. Lots of things, some more or less dangerous to take."
"Do you ever intoxicate yourself?"
"Well, my drug of choice is... void it, we make it by making a grain mash, introducing microbes that eat the sugars, then distilling the intoxicant by boiling it and putting the steam through a condenser tube. Then it's put into wooden casks to pick up flavor for a few years."
"You drink alcohol?"
"If alcohol is made the way I describe. Mind you it's not always made the same way back home, there are kinds that are only strained rather than distilled for more flavor and lower concentration of... alcohol?"
The maid fainted, and there was a bit to commotion as some of her coworkers checked to make sure she did not hit her head, then as they helped her stumble out to lie down somewhere a bit more comfortable than the floor, I explained the proper use of alcohol to him. One of the stirring spoons proved a useful visual aid.
"Sorry for all of the..." Gregory gestured toward the door, and continued, "But I still don't have any names."
The Lord Justiciar looked starteled and said, "Apologies, how rude of me. I am Xandred, this is my Major of the Landers, Voxvov."
"I'm pleased to meet you both properly. Did you want to discuss anything in particular, or did you just want to shoot breaches into nothing?"
"Into nothing? Void that," Voxvov chuckled, "In the first place I wanted to get to know you in a less official setting. You're less... stiff than the debriefing."
"We're having a chat over drinks, even if I can't feel them the way you do. Breach me if I don't know a friendly gesture when I see one. Then again, you're both busy men, so you must want something out of this."
"Not as busy as you'd think," Xandred answered, "I just captain this tub of justice. Once the target is orderly again, there's not much for me to do. No captains to coordinate, no egos to sooth, no overeager militias to trim in. All things considered, things went rather well here."
"Forgive me if I have a somewhat dimmer assessment."
"Apologies, Yormdrill, I was talking about how you all handled the situation after the crime was suffered. I have seen captains make a mess of things rather than restoring order."
"That's mostly Mom. We went planetside to get my brother back."
"Speaking of planetside, I hear you're a Lander to your people."
"My job was as an advance scout and overwatch sniper."
"Similar to what we do. But my lieutenant insists that you were fired onto the battlefield in an escape pod."
"Stealth drop pods. They're single use only."
"Excuse me?"
"Standard insertion for advance scouts is via stealth drop pods."
Xandred looked pale as he nearly whispered, "That implies the existence of non-stealth drop pods."
"Yes, the assault drop pods deliver the shock troops to establish a... landing place."
They looked so satisfyingly horrified that I couldn't help from adding, "He maintains that his nation has never lost a scout before landfall."
"A shuttle would be far safer..."
"A big, fat, slow target would be safer in peacetime. Sure. But my job isn't peaceful. Wasn't peaceful..."
"It is well to think of such things," Voxvov said after a sip of tea, "I am considering taking on a civilian roll soon, but I do not think the attitudes of a man of action shall ever leave me."
"Well, apparently there are civilian ships in dire need of combat reediness drills."
I scowled at him while the others nodded gravely. "If more captains in this region took it seriously, you might have had more than sixty men to complete the work," Voxvov opined.
"That's plenty for a lieutenant. Not a full... I don't know the translation. Anyway, it's close to a commission for a lieutenant."
"Is that the case in your military?"
"Well, it might be more or less depending on the formation, especially when it comes to vehicles."
"I see..."
"The biggest issue was that we were underequipped."
"You did rather well..."
"Yes, but for instance, I had to reposition after every shot. I have a magnetic accelerator now, but that plasma caster isn't very subtle when it fires. Also, we had to be particularly careful about cover since we weren't armored. Additionally, we didn't have a tactical network, just local coms. That's a bigger deal than you'd think, a mission can change in an instant, and if that change is communicated quickly and accurately it can save lives."
"I see... your nova is well earned," Xandred remarked.
"I will try not to tarnish it, sir. I was only doing what's right."
"Speaking of doing what's right," Voxvov mused, "I heard another rumor. It's said you're going after Beastmaster Selvace."
"And what if we are?" I asked.
"That would depend on your purpose."
"If you're just after putting the void sucker through an airlock for revenge, well we can't stop you, but you'll not have the protection of the treaties."
"That googly eyed void mating piece of scorched waste knows where my brothers' place of safety is. I need to know how he got close, how he got past detection, and how he got away alive, and somehow get that information to the Republic. If it happened to me, it can happen again."
"It is well that you were a castaway as shipwreck, and not marooned. This threat to yours is a threat to ours, as you are a Star Sailor," Xandred said solemnly.
"In that case, we can offer some support. I've been watching the local weapons market, and it seems that you've taken up the best of what's available. I wanted one of those new flechette launchers for my own use."
"I was hoping for some chemical propellant weapons. Electromagnetic attacks would leave us vulnerable."
"I can't help you there. But what about some armor and extra personnel?"
"The We Sing is mostly cargo space. Our quarters deck could take on maybe two squads. Getting Linus back was enough to risk our chain of command, but in future actions I'd rather Pops stay on the bridge. Uncle too."
I tried to hide my cringe, "If I had been more disciplined in drilling the crew with small arms, then perhaps my brother and I would have taken on a command role instead."
Voxvov smiled into his tea and said, "It just so happens that this beastmaster is also a wanted pirate. Good hunting lads."

From the Memoir of Beastmaster Selvace

Having escaped the warmbloods putting their disgustingly hair covered fingers where they're not needed or wanted, I sought out more information. Apparently an underboss did the one egg breaking thing you just never do, and kidnapped one of the blue warmbloods. Of all of the lesser beings, the blues just lack the understanding of their place in this galaxy. This Jacauvian galaxy.
What I found out was rotted stupid. Apparently, Umbvia Syndicate was dismantled by the beast from beyond the Monvan gulf, or at least that's what the blues are claiming. They're mocking us. I say we go back to scalping them. A fine cloak of their prized braids, a new one. The one I inherited from my great, great, great brood matron is a fine thing, but too precious for wearing. The scalps of this We Sing would do nicely. Then we put the beast back where it belongs.
Enough pain will teach it that it's an animal or a primitive again.
First Part Start Previous Next

I'm a big fan of Red Velvet, the mini album "The ReVe Festival 2022 - Feel My Rythm" shocked me, I'd love to find an album with similar features, any recommendations?

I (25F) work at a library, and today a lovely old gentleman came into my work. In his hands, he had two large carrier bags absolutely full of books.
Without thinking, I open my big dumb mouth and go "Wow! That's a big pair of bags you have there!"
He looks at me. I look at him. I feel my face progressively turn more red as I try so, so hard not to let my smile slip and acknowledge what I just said. He's still standing a few steps back from the desk, staring at me. I think he's finally decided to let it go and move on with his life. Great! Everyone's happy.
Instead, he puts his bags on the desk and goes: "Well, that's a bit rude isn't it?"
I honestly wished the ground would swallow me up. I just said "Ah. Yeah. Ha! Just meant the..." and gestured vaguely in the direction of the carrier bags. He informs me he has a book to collect and I scuttle downstairs, breaking down in laughter as soon as I'm through the door and needing to sit down on the stairs for a moment to recollect myself. Tears are streaming down my face. My colleagues are looking at me like I've lost my mind. I probably have.
Finally, one of the girls I work with goes "scotslibrarian... are you okay? Like. Has someone... upset you? Are you laughing or crying?"
Both. Both was the answer. I told them what I'd just done, we all had a good laugh, I went to get his book and realised I'd forgotten to ask his name.
Had to go up with my bright red, tear-streaked face and ask the bemused old man what his name was so I could get his book. My supervisor tells me maybe I should think before I talk next time. I heartily agree.
TL;DR - Told an old man he had a nice pair of bags. Probably going to go cry under my duvet once I get home.

Introduction

Well hello there! (General Kenobi!). I'm Snoky also known as you'll find out when we get to know eachother
I’m a 25 year old English/Norwegian guy from the U of K! I currently work in the IT Sector within the Local Government and my god I forgot how hectic the public sector was after i left it roughly 4 years ago. I did indeed have quite a shock coming back 😅
​

Apperance

I'm on the bigger side but am looking to get that changed with some help due to i'm not very happy with the way thing's are currently. Minus that I'm 6'1/6'2, depends on which doctor you ask! I have short-ish hair dark blonde hair? I think? I'm not very good with colors so you'll have to tell me whenever we decide to exchange pictures.
Which i will be more than happy to exchange later on once we get to know eachother!
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Main Intrests/Hobbies

My main interests are either playing games with some friends on the PC, studying for future certifications and mainly what I do after work just kicking back and watching whatever random things I can find on YouTube (I aren’t a big TV person). I used to watch a lot of anime but I tend to drop out of it for a year and then I get back in to it then I lose interest again heh, it’s just a thing that I’ve been doing for years on end.
I am somewhat in to movies but I haven’t really properly watched any within the last year or so but if I was to give a rough genre, I’d say dark-ish movies with a grabbing story i.e. DC films and a here and there Marvel film (IW ftw!) I much more prefer it when the bad guy gets the upper hand and basically wins as close to that of Thanos basically.
My main music choices? Everywhere and everything. If my ears like it, then chances are I’ll most likely like it. I’d write down all the artists I follow right now but trust me it’d take too long to go over so it’d probs better to just share my Spotify playlist lmao. But to give a quick sum up I’d say its more around mixed genre, alt-rock basically.
I do also write my own stuff as well, but again like anime I do it for like 6 months then stop, then start a year later so eh it’s a pretty hit and miss hobby for me 😅
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Future Prospects?

As mentioned in my apperance section i'm in the process of trying to get fit with weight loss as I’m not very happy with how I am at the moment especially when it comes to health after a incident a few years ago but that’s neither here nor the future as I’m looking to change it with the help of the NHS and people around me. I'd be more than happy to join forces together with someone who's trying to do the same thing!
I currently own my own company which is currently under going some development but hasn't actually started as of yet (still looking in that area) but it will get there at somepoint!
Alongside my own company I’m also undergoing a project with a close friend of mine that we’re trying to pursue which is actually happening alongside the org itself so it's all looping togetherslowly but surely.
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What am i looking for?

I'm looking for someone who's intrested in getting to know eachother, someone who's got my back and i've got theres, someone i can well essentially "grow" with and get to know, someone who's willing to put the effort in to get to know me and vice versa.I'd like said person to be able to hold a convoersation with me as i've been in too many instances where it's all been one sided convos with me basically putting in more effort than the other person but alas that's neither here nor there and hopfully I'll maybe find the person who would share that equal effort with me. And trust me I've been ghosted loads of times to the point it's like "bruh, just why?" but anyway!
I'm open to long distant's so long as there's a goal to meet eachother in the somewhat near future!
No older than 27 please!
​

The End?

If you've made it this far after this somewhat long post then i must congradulate you!
I now have a small question for you to send me the answer too when you message me.
On what date and or month was a i born? I was born on the month of a certain red birthstone on a international memorial day
p.s, if you don't get it it doesn't matter it's worth a try regardless

Introduction

Well hello there! (General Kenobi!). I'm Snoky also known as you'll find out when we get to know eachother
I’m a 25 year old English/Norwegian guy from the U of K! I currently work in the IT Sector within the Local Government and my god I forgot how hectic the public sector was after i left it roughly 4 years ago. I did indeed have quite a shock coming back 😅
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Apperance

I'm on the bigger side but am looking to get that changed with some help due to i'm not very happy with the way thing's are currently. Minus that I'm 6'1/6'2, depends on which doctor you ask! I have short-ish hair dark blonde hair? I think? I'm not very good with colors so you'll have to tell me whenever we decide to exchange pictures.
Which i will be more than happy to exchange later on once we get to know eachother!
​

Main Intrests/Hobbies

My main interests are either playing games with some mates on the PC, studying for future certifications and mainly what I do after work just kicking back and watching whatever random things I can find on YouTube (I aren’t a big TV person). I used to watch a lot of anime but I tend to drop out of it for a year and then I get back in to it then I lose interest again heh, it’s just a thing that I’ve been doing for years on end.
I am somewhat in to movies but I haven’t really properly watched any within the last year or so but if I was to give a rough genre, I’d say dark-ish movies with a grabbing story i.e. DC films and a here and there Marvel film (IW ftw!) I much more prefer it when the bad guy gets the upper hand and basically wins as close to that of Thanos basically.
My main music choices? Everywhere and everything. If my ears like it, then chances are I’ll most likely like it. I’d write down all the artists I follow right now but trust me it’d take too long to go over so it’d probs better to just share my Spotify playlist lmao. But to give a quick sum up I’d say its more around mixed genre, alt-rock basically.
I do also write my own stuff as well, but again like anime I do it for like 6 months then stop, then start a year later so eh it’s a pretty hit and miss hobby for me 😅
​

Future Prospects?

As mentioned in my apperance section i'm in the process of trying to get fit with weight loss as I’m not very happy with how I am at the moment especially when it comes to health after a incident a few years ago but that’s neither here nor the future as I’m looking to change it with the help of the NHS and people around me. I'd be more than happy to join forces together with someone who's trying to do the same thing!
I currently own my own company which is currently under going some development but hasn't actually started as of yet (still looking in that area) but it will get there at somepoint!
Alongside my own company I’m also undergoing a project with a close mate of mine that we’re trying to pursue which is actually happening alongside the org itself so it's all looping togetherslowly but surely.
​

What am i looking for?

I'm looking for someone who's intrested in getting to know eachother, someone who's got my back and i've got theres, someone i can well essentially "grow" with and get to know, someone who's willing to put the effort in to get to know me and vice versa.I'd like said person to be able to hold a convoersation with me as i've been in too many instances where it's all been one sided convos with me basically putting in more effort than the other person but alas that's neither here nor there and hopfully I'll maybe find the person who would share that equal effort with me. And trust me I've been ghosted loads of times to the point it's like "bruh, just why?" but anyway!
I'm open to long distant's so long as there's a goal to meet eachother in the somewhat near future!
No older than 27 please!
​

The End?

If you've made it this far after this somewhat long post then i must congradulate you!
I now have a small question for you to send me the answer too when you message me.
On what date and or month was a i born? I was born on the month of a certain red birthstone on a international memorial day
p.s, if you don't get it it doesn't matter it's worth a try regardless