Hadwin white body shop

TL;DR: my (24 cis F) partner (23 trans F) died in a car accident 5 weeks ago so I have no reason to be sticking around this sub. I wanted to share and celebrate my girl with you all one last time, thank you all for the community I have found here and just say how much I will miss it.
I know this is super long, but it would mean so much to me if you could at least try to get through it. Thanks ily 💕
In loving memory of Melissa Rose McCalla June 6, 1999 - February 25, 2023 🩵🤍🩷
Five weeks ago today, my (24 cis F) darling fiancee of 3 years, Melissa (23 trans F), was killed in a car accident when an oncoming truck hit us at highway speeds as I was making an unprotected left turn. The impact knocked her out and snapped her neck almost instantly and she died within 15 minutes. I was part of this sub for a year and I am so grateful for the support and community I found here. Thank you all so much. Since I am now without her, I don't know if it makes sense for me to be part of this sub anymore, unless people would be okay with me talking about her here. I hope that this post at minimum helps you all to remember to appreciate your dear partners and tell them so while you still can.
Her death has torn my world apart I am absolutely devastated. She was my heart, my home, my other half. My happiness. My purpose and my whole future. We were hoping to get married in the next couple years, maybe Summer 2024 right before my 26th birthday. We adored each other. She was so kind, so goofy, so brilliant and so loving. So beautiful. We met before she transitioned and even then, my gay lil heart was transfixed. To me, she was always the sexiest thing around. When she came out and began her transition a year ago, I was beyond proud of her and so happy that she was finally going to get to live as her authentic self. She only got one fucking year, and only 6 WEEKS on hormones.
On hormones, she was finally beginning to get substantial relief from her dysphoria. For the first time in our whole relationship, she could be a functional adult. Until then, she had had low functioning depression that numbed her to the bone. In her last weeks especially, I got to see her grow so much into herself. I thought I'd loved her before, but the love I had for this newly bubbly, adorable, goofy, slutty, and creative woman was beyond what I could imagine. I get so infuriated by reading about the whole conservative freak out about letting people transition because it fundamentally improves their quality of life. It's like night and day. The Melissa of a year ago would have been in disbelief at how happy and hungry for life the Melissa of a month ago was.
It breaks my heart that she never got all the time she deserved. She should have lived another 50+ years. She should have had the time to get the body she wanted, the body that she'd be happy in. She never got to wear a bra or feel her boobies growing or to experience the feeling of putting her hair casually up in a ponytail or to being able to never shave her face and chest again. She never started the voice training she wanted to do or got the orchi she so badly wanted or discuss FFS with a doctor.
I know that when you love someone, looks shouldn't matter. And I was deeply in love with her for who she was but how she looked was really important to her so it was important to me. I did my best to throw myself into supporting her however I could. I helped her schedule doctors appointments, I drove her to them and sat in on them per her request, I taught her how to do make up and take care of her hair. I went shopping with her countless times to get all kinds of girl stuff for her. I encouraged her to get a trans-informed therapist and helped her work through her internalized transphobia. I helped her pick her name, file her name change documents and come out to her family.
I just so badly wanted to see her happy with her body and I never got to. I never got to see the joy in her face as she got her first bra or played with her sore titties. I never got to braid her hair. I never got to see how happy actually wearing thongs consistently after her orchi would've made her. I never got to see what her face might've looked like after FFS or hear her new femme voice. I'll never see her in a bikini. I'll never get to choose wedding dresses with her. I'll never know if she would've been able to pass how she wanted to or see how much joy that would have brought her. I'll never know the confident, self-assured, out and proud transwoman who she could've been and should've been able to be. She always struggled with her self esteem but it got so much better over the last year and especially the last 6 weeks of her life. She should have had so much more time to develop confidence and grow into herself more fully.
So much was taken from her, and from us. She should have been able to fulfill all her dreams and we should have been able to enjoy decades together with her living as her best, happiest self. It's the greatest injustice of my life and it breaks me in a million ways. I grieve all the life she should have lived, all the relationships she never made, all the experiences she never got and all the amazing art and scientific progress she could have contributed to our world. I want her back with all my heart. I'm sad to be leaving this sub because I really appreciated the feeling of community I got from here and from supporting her through her transition. That's another loss, I suppose. I have lost so much more than just my lover, my friend or my partner. I have lost connection with all of the communities that she was a part of or cared about. My life is indescribably, unfathomably impoverished by her death and honestly, I think all our lives have been. She was so brilliant. She should have been able to use her many talents to touch us all in some meaningful way.

How do I assemble this code correctly?, The send/Submit button is off the line and GPT is not responding?.
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I don’t want to even think about how much our grocery shop cost us today. It was supposed to be enough for about half the week, then the idea was to do a top up shop…. But now I’m determined just to make it last, even if that means smaller meals this week.
I should be asleep but down a rabbit hole trying to find ways to save money on food. It’s all American based advice though, so thought I’d see what others are doing? I have resisted adding in more pasta / rice / bread into meals because I’ve gained weight when I eat those things, and there are some pretty gnarly weight related conditions that run in my family I’m trying to steer clear of. But I also don’t know what else to do! Just eat a bowl of 2 min noodles every night like I did when I was a uni student? Or white bread & mayo sandwiches?

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.

I am 25, M and from Europe.
Fit body, white skin. I am open to show off on cam. No face for privacy.
I am into playing an electric guitar, producing music, reading books, traveling and playing video games.
Message me if you are interested.

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

Chapter 19
Chapter 20 What 'does' it matter
Everything was quiet. Quiet like the sea. Jennifer awoke to the sound of a waterfall echo in the emptiness. Her eyes wondered around, seeing her surroundings. There were crystals that shine with light. A light of warmth and chills. Drops of rain fall and made small puddles, then evaporated off to the sky. The drops of rain makes a tap noise on the huge crystals floating amongst the night blue sky. No sun nor moon but a waterfall that reaches to what seems to be a floating rock.
She walked through statues of people she somehow recognized. They're not Steven, James, nor even his father. Instead they were people from another time. It was familiar, as if she experienced as another person from another world. Time and space has its way of developing such mysteries of time. Built as if it was being foretold.
The first statue she encounters was Daniel, standing in the middle of nowhere like a man who wonders in the apocalyptic world. His face looked fearful as to whatever the nightmare will propose in front of him. Strange to see a statue of himself being a part of the other statues in the line. This doesn't look like it was built nor imagined by Daniel.
Then, another statue is a female robot with her face painted like a skull. She is the same species as Daniel but her hair was green which is rare for their species. Her eyes are dark except for her glowing green pupil and she wore a white snow tuxedo. Her pose was like of a boxing champion or more than just a champion, she sat on a throne as if she is unbeatable.
Another statue showed a man of a flame person like a torch, his body is smooth and red but his head is like a torch but his mouth and eyes are visible. He had horns on his head, wore a jacket that looked like it was torn like a rockstar. His pose was impressively like both good and evil, holding a shotgun on his left hand and a head on his right, bat or dragon like wings on his back spread out like an angel, and his face was stone cold as if only his pupils are moving.
The other statue showed a young human lady but her eyes are empty, she wore a black and white hoodie, held the strings like a web and held a blade that looked sharp enough to cut ruby, and her pose was like a religious musician presenting an orchestra.
Then the other statue was of a boy of an elf and he wore what looked like a coat from the dark age, and he held a blade that felt alien. Behind him was a man made of obsidian, his eyes and mouth were pearly white and his body was jacked, he wore an armor made from wherever he's from and he held a large khopesh. Their pose represents a father and son, lion and wolf, surviving together in a wild nature.
A statue of a man of a flame person, different to the other one and looked more adventures, triangles on the sides of his head, his face makes a smirk with intimidating eyes, he wore a leather jacket and held a rope of chains and a revolver. His pose was like a hunter already in battle, taking strikes against whoever he's hunting down.
A statue of a women, she wore a vest with a shirt inside and what covers her is the worn off cloak. The child which seemed to be her son wore a jacket that looked to be tattered. They both looked to be scared and lost as if they're trying to escape wherever they're from. Their pose was escaping from a nightmare or something far worse than that. Her son holding her hand tight, afraid of getting split up and lost.
Finally, the last statue that still stands was a young girl with a small little creature on her right shoulder that looked both like a bunny, and a chinchilla with peddles of a flower around its collar. She wore a worn off hoodie, a vest, a shoulder plate made of plants on her right shoulder, and boots made of some leather. She held a staff and whats on the head of the staff was a crystal. Their pose was like a disciple, a disciple that spreads joy around the world as they go. A smile on her face as she looked afar at the world.
The next statue was collapsed, same as the rest of the statues being scattered around the stone pavements. They looked to have fear, anger, sickness, and uncanniness on their faces, as if they have fallen to their death or a fate worse than death. For some reason, the 8 statues are the only one that is still standing. But why does that matter to her. She wants to find Daniel and reason with him. So she walked further outwards to the waterfall.
As she walked closer through the waterfall, she heard someone talking in a voice she recognized before. She knew that voice and ran quickly up to the waterfall. She stopped in front of a rock solid mountain filled with water, then climbed up quickly as she can.
At 16.7 meters high up, she saw something flying around. She shook her head and got back to climbing. The voice is becoming more closer, she can hear what its saying.
At 25 meters high, she reached to the top of the mountain waterfall but Daniel wasn't there, instead was on a floating rock high above as water falls to the ground endlessly.
She didn't know how to get up there, no clue as to how to get up. Her heart felt something shining, something that gives her a way. She held her left hand in front of her and gripped hard. What sparked in her hand was a bow made of ruby with a string made of opal. A surprised look on her face as if she was given a gift to the solution. She thought to herself. "Maybe my heart or soul can communicate with me. It's as if I'm guiding myself."
There were no arrows anywhere. She wondered how she's going to use it until her heart guides her again. She pulled the string of the bow and what sparked out in the bow was an arrow made of garnet. Flowing sparks of red light circles around the arrow's head as fireflies.
She shot it at the nearest side of the floating rock and before she could take time to think she was already on the walls surface like teleporting. She quickly grabbed the nearest edge out of shock of surprise, breathing in a panic. She slowed her breath, calming herself to get back to what she was doing. The voice is more louder. Louder enough to make people crazy.
-
"You can join me and we will take over the universe and all that exist. You and I, together.
"You know, I was told by my cousin fate about 'you' Daniel. He said that you're connected to something bizarre and you have a special power. He said you're connected to the ones that have a similar power line. Something about rage or something? Yes. Your rage is not like any other gods.
"You're connected to people from different realities, from different systems, from different worlds. But they're in worlds where my family is in charge. They're like you for some reason, it's like a cycle. A cycle of endless evil scratching the walls to break in and become creator of all that exist! But you and your other counterparts from other worlds are stopping us.
"But if you join me, you'll become something more. You'll achieve greater heights, greater purpose, BEYOND CREATION!"
"I don't want to be in your FUCKING PAWN GAME!"
"How many people have died under the hands of death and evil? Billions, even countless. The existence in this world, is not perfect. We can change that. We can make the whole entire creation beyond perfection! You and I, we'll be unstoppable. You have the power of a god and you don't want to be a part of that godhood?"
"I don't want to be a god."
"You SHOULD BE!"
"I'm just another monster!"
"Yes but like a GOD! Because other people who are below us will fear and praise us.
"You know Jennifer right? Of course, her life was to serve me. You called her a monster. A MONSTER! But have you taken the time to just look at yourself and see what you've become? Not really. Jennifer was my servant and she was going to become something more. I was going to offer you to becoming more."
"Don't talk about her."
"WHY Daniel? You think she's like you or experienced the same way as you do. That is FALSE! I made her since she was born. She was born to serve me, to become the next god. We had plans. Plans to take over father, then the pleroma. The pleroma is the connections between gods. They call themselves Aeons instead of gods and they act like people. How disappointingly preposterous. They are gods but they don't even adopt its meaning. The pleroma is a place for gods. TRUE GODS! So I will be there and show them that I AM A GOD! And you will be too. You know that right?"
"I told you. I don't want to be in your games. I don't want to be a god. I don't WANT TO BE YOUR DAMN PUPPET!"
"So do you like Jennifer? Really Really like her?"
"what."
"Poor Daniel. Her real name was Rosemary Peterson!"
"She didn't know that. She lost her memories."
"Lost her memories? That's just a scrap of nodes in a blank paper. What if she did remember all this time and she was pretending? Think Daniel. All this time she spent with you and your friends all the way. You see her caring and loving you and your friends but is it really real or just fake to get you through hell? I know you're not that stupid. You've been thinking so much things since the day you let your emotions run wild in your glass box. I went into your mind that day, we had talked so much. You remember our conversation about 'The Teligonas'.
"I am a part of that. And so are you. And so are your friends and the people who are in the cycle of scratching evil! YOU WILL PLAY A PART OF IT! THAT IS FATE! YOU CAN NEVER ESCAPE THE FATE OF YOUR FRIENDS!"
-
Jennifer reached the edge of the floating stone land and raised her hand up to grab the ground. She pulled herself up and saw Cain circling around the chained Daniel. The words that come out of Cain's mouth were like flies and beetles crawling on your spine and ribs.
She quickly pulled herself up, got to her feet, and shot an arrow at Cain. He roared with a laugh and cheer, the sound of booming laughter from the invisible crowd. He turned to see her dead in the eye but his eyes were hidden behind his old hat. A sinister smile plastered on his face, stretching the bandages on his cheek, making wrinkles.
"AH! My young Rose! It's so pleasant to see you again! And look at you now! You've gotten stronger." But then, his face went from a smile to a frown. He looked up and down on her, seeing as if she somehow changed. He didn't like the new her. "Get Away From Him!"
"Or what? What exactly are you going to do about that, Rose? You can't defeat me nor kill me, I'm inside of his mind and I AM IMMORTAL!" A sinister grin returned back on his face, an idea he proposed has changed his mind or supported his plan. "Oh Rose. Do you not know what i'm doing is best. I'm building him into something bigger. You remember our glorious plan Rose? We were going to become gods. Don't you see, I'm doing this for the both of us AND Daniel can be a part of that."
"I remembered what you did to me. I remembered what you had done to my mom. You took MY LIFE away from me and made me into some weapon."
"I am giving you a greater opportunity Rose. We've done fun things together. Like making people smile. Giving people the death they deserve. WE RESEMBLED JUSTICE!"
Jennifer gripped her hand tightly on her bow while looking at the chained up Daniel. He didn't look back at her, only to stare down in absolute defeat. The waters from the sky above fell down to the endless pit of nothingness. The world around them is peaceful and promising, but the presence of Cain said otherwise. The screams from his heart came from many places. Unknown as to who or what is it from.
"I wasn't happy nor felt the pleasure to kill the innocents, I was scared and angry. My life became a lie because you messed with my head. You took away the life I once knew was real and you smashed it into dust and replaced it with your narcissistic bullshit!"
Cain's face became a mess with a mad smile of insanity stretching the wrinkles of his face. A crack of bone echoed out as he twitches his body in a maniac laughter. He fast walked towards Jennifer which made him more eerie in a place of an innocent landscape. Blood came out from his face and dripped down on the stone ground, infecting it as veins and tissue grows from the blood.
"Oh really? But is it really true that you remember your 'real' memories? What if your powers are a lie against YOU, Rose? I can help you. I know you more than anyone in the world. You can't do this on your own. Don't you want to help your best bud here."
This became a mixture of whether or not he may be right. The conclusion would be to make the right choice but one flaw is done and it's over. Each step from Cain echoes with a tap of a bell, a tone of reverse ringing metal. Jennifer's eyes daggers against Cain's, dueling against the dark evil behind his brain.
"If you could just come back to me, this will be over and we can start changing the world into something perfect. Your mother would've been so proud to see you so strong. And Daniel here, he doesn't love you or anything anymore. Why waste such potential on this guy when you can use it for the greater good.
"There are more dangerous and powerful gods greater than me, greater than anything that comes to existence. What if they hurt your friends and your mother's soul? It'll be the worst you could ever imagine. But if we work together, we can prevent that from happening. Just you and me."
Daniel turned to look at her, only a little due to the chains around him. He looked at her with the eyes of fear and sorrow. He was too weak to get out of these chains, not able to shake them off or break them. It's as if the chains locked his power away and made him sick. "Jennifer."
Jennifer put her bow away, making it disappear into thin air. She turned her head to Daniel and saw his eyes became weak and mad. Cain placed his hand on her shoulder that caught her attention. She looked up to see Cain more closer now. His breath gave a scent of burnt flesh and copper, a scent of the ugly death. She nearly gagged by the smell from Cain's breath. Rows of different sizes of teeth and gums in his mouth like a hole to hell.
She started to think of what might happen to those she cared and loved if the archons are in control. The thought of her mother's soul screaming in eternal torture, like she's a toy for the gods to play. Her friends being chained up and tortured by being gutted and brutally beaten up for eternity by those sick twisted gods. Therefore, the sickness grew in her heart with a chill crept up her spine.
"Just think about that Jennifer. Think of the consequences if you don't join me."
Then, memories of the times she had been with her mother and friends came to her mind, as if her heart is giving her a tour.
-
It was 6 months after the start of the apocalypse. The four of them were walking on the streets in the middle of a town. Houses were collapsed and burnt, destroyed by the apocalypse. The cold brewed around the 4 survivors. Their faces were plain cold, just on their way to wherever the nightmare will show.
They went inside of one of the houses, finding no one but dust and wood. Until the next house, Jennifer finds a basket full of cricket equipment. "Hey guys! What's all this stuff?"
Daniel knew exactly what this is when he took a first looked at it. He chuckled and said. "It's cricket. I haven't played this since before the apocalypse."
"What's cricket?"
"It's when you swing your bat to hit the ball and someone have to catch it. When the fielders catches the ball, they will bowl the wicket to prevent the batter from scoring more points. And the batter, when they hit the ball, they run between the 2 wickets to get more points." James joined in on the conversation. Telling her the details of playing cricket.
"Ok. I don't know what any of that means. Can you guys show me how it works?"
"But we're in an apocalypse." James said. What she asked for, sounded like a childish dream, which made him in disbelief. There are demons everywhere, just hiding or hunting someone down. They could be in this house or any other house in this town. It would be crazy mad to play cricket in a middle of a dead zone.
"Hey come on James, I think it's good to have some fun, even if we're in a bad place right now and we haven't seen a single threat. I think you know that too." Daniel patted his shoulder and held the cricket equipment with him as he walked outside. Steven followed him outside with giddy. Mostly paying his attention to cricket instead of the outside cold.
James was surprised. He didn't get what Daniel meant by that. For what they're in for, it sounded as if everyone, including himself, become crazy. He witnessed Daniel become furious with vengeance when he witnessed his own father killed. He thought maybe it's just him trying to bond with them and putting the revenge plan as his secondary.
He turned his head to Jennifer and saw a surprised look on her face. The same expression he has right now.
As they're outside, playing cricket together. Steven and Jennifer are the batter, while Daniel and James are the bowlers, but as time goes on they swap teams and swap roles. As they kept playing outside of the empty town of collapsed houses, there were smiles on their faces. Jennifer laughs with such thrill of playing a game by running and batting. Daniel heard her and joined in too. For James, he chuckles when he saw how fascinating how fun and joyful his friends are getting in the middle of nothingness. It was beautiful to him. Steven had a better smile then his friends, he started to think all the way to the best moments of his life. Thinking of the joy he had amongst the bright days of his life.
Jennifer began to think why they're having such a good time in such a horrible situation. After growing in a horrible life, fighting against demonic creatures, witnessing nightmares of slaughter and death, discovering new knowledge of what's behind the history of the unknown, and the extreme emotional stress being put unto them throughout their adventures.
She thought of the deaths, horrors, and dark tales of the world. How death can be at anytime, anywhere they go. Then, she understands why.
People experienced many things out of their comfort zones. Many were tragic, awful, unjust, fear, pain, dark, and grim. But the most powerful is hope, strength, motivation, confidence, love, faith, greatness, and freedom. That's just because the world is not fair nor just.
The thing is that people should enjoy what they like to do. The things that people have the motivation and confidence to do. People wanted to do what they dream of doing. Art, Judges, Researchers, Poetry, Constructors, Scientists, Teachers, and anything. People have many things we'd love to do and to share our experience. But the problem is people being afraid of risk. Such risks can take someone down so easily. Many can give such darkness, hopelessness, and misery. It's how the world works.
She understands that the joy and goodness can come first before and after taking the risks of death. Take the joy while it lasts and have it again. The time to enjoy life. Death is permanent and so is joy. But joy in the world of the living, even in the afterlife are moments that cannot surpass death. For death is many things. A world, a word, a mystery, and the bridge to different realities. She begins to be filled with so much joy with the knowledge of the joy she sees.
She laughed more and more, her friends started to feel the same. And from then on, they started to take joy in discovering good old times and the experience together. Their bond grew more stronger as they survive in the world of nightmares.
-
She looked at Daniel as his face starts to tire. She then looked up at Cain with his uncanny smile plastered on his face, stretching the dark wrinkles of his skin and bandages. "I want to end this nightmare. I want my friends to have a good life. I want other people to have that good life. Starting with you being dead and gone for good."
Enraged, he gripped his hand around her neck, making her gag in pain from the burning sensation. She tried to force her way out of his grip but was to no avail. His smile turned upside down, revealing the dark gums in his mouth. Daniel tried to escape out of his chained state, terrified of Jennifer's death. "STOP! DON'T KILL HER!"
"You disappointed me. disappointed the rest of my brothers. You dare to turn against me when I was the one who gave mercy to you. You were going to be something Rose. You were going to be something that no other god could ever keen to reach. Now you'll die. After your death, I will destroy everything that exists here and so are your worthless bastards!"
Then suddenly, she gripped her hand tight and Daniel's spear sparked out in her hand. She impaled it directly at Cain's shoulder and with that she escaped out of Cain's grip, falling on to the ground. He grunted in disgust and was shocked by what Jennifer just did.
Jennifer pulled herself up as she gasped for air, the burning slowly fades away from her neck. She crawled until she finally caught her hand onto the chains which holds Daniel into imprisonment. "Daniel. I'm getting you out of here."
She gripped her hand and an emerald xiphos sparked out. She sliced off the chains apart, which makes them disappear into nothingness. Daniel's strength, life, and power came back to him as he can finally stand up.
They turned around to see Cain pulling out the spear from his shoulder with a grunt of rage. His head faced towards Daniel and Jennifer. Wherever his eyes are, they're staring daggers at them. But then his smile came back. Standing in a good posture as if nothing had happened. "You truly changed haven't you Rose? You knew what I did to you. Replacing your memories with my designs. Well, I admit it. You are right. But no matter.
"My plans to become a powerful god will be complete once I have the power to kill my father. Then I will kill and torture the 'aeons' of the pleroma and become the god of all universes. But you're in my way. So I have a surprise for the both of you. Once you're out of this world." And with one wicked laugh that came out of his hollow mouth, the last of his words for now said. "Goodbye. For now."
And then he was gone. Disappeared into nothing.
Chapter 21

Astronomical prices put Olympic tickets out of reach
The sky-high price of tickets will mean attending key events at the Brisbane Olympics will be unaffordable for many Australians, according to Olympic boss John Coates.
Des Houghton 6 min read March 31, 2023 - 9:00PM
The new concept of dynamic pricing for events is “no excuse for ripping of Parisians who want to see events in their city.” Guests on #WorldThisWeek share views on the high price of tickets for sporting events like the Olympics and concerts, stressing the importance of inclusivity and accessibility to culture for all. Olympic powerbroker John Coates admits most Queenslanders will not be able to afford tickets to key events at the 2032 Brisbane Olympic and Paralympic Games.
When asked if prices to watch finals of the athletics at the Gabba or swimming at Brisbane Arena would be prohibitively expensive he said: “Correct.”
Seats at the opening and closing ceremonies would be at a premium, too.
Straight-talking Coates, the vice-president of the International Olympic Committee, said the IOC had to be “hard-headed” and steep prices were inevitable.
His comments follow uproar in Europe over prices to next year’s Paris Olympics with family tickets running to thousands of dollars and tickets to athletics and swimming finals about $3000 a double – if you are lucky enough to get them.
Coates said spectators had to pay the price for the international trend towards smaller Olympic stadiums that offered fewer seats at higher prices.
Andrew Liveris (left) and John Coates at the announcement of the CEO of the Brisbane 2032 Olympic and Paralympic Games, Cindy Hook (centre). Picture: Richard Walker Andrew Liveris (left) and John Coates at the announcement of the CEO of the Brisbane 2032 Olympic and Paralympic Games, Cindy Hook (centre). Picture: Richard Walker “That’s the trade-off for not having to spend as much money on venues that may not be used afterwards,” Coates said.
“You can’t justify building large venues that aren’t going to be utilized afterwards.”
Coates is up front in admitting he has no answer to soaring Olympic admission prices.
“There is no avoiding this,” he said. “The size of the venues was coming down at the direction of the IOC because we don’t want to see white elephants left behind afterwards.
“So as a consequence of that is there will be less seats available for the punters at those events (held in the main stadia).’’
Coates, one of the most influential figures in world sport, sits on the Brisbane organising committee, OCOG, and as IOC vice-president serves on the IOC’s Games Optimisation Group.
He backs the selection of the Gabba as the site for Brisbane’s main Olympic arena and says the benefits will be continue for decades after the Games are over.
While the Sydney Olympic stadium offered seating for 115,000 spectators, Brisbane will offer 50,000 at the revitalised Gabba, 8000 more than currently available for cricket and AFL matches.
It’s too early to predict the prices of seats in Brisbane, but if Paris is any guide, they will be astronomical.
Australia will send a strong team to next year’s Paris Games, which will run from July 26 to August 11. The Paralympics will follow from August 28 to September 8.
Sports fans had to go into a ballot in Paris for the right to buy the first batch of 3.25 million tickets. “Winners expressed joy when their names came out of the hat, then dismay at finding that they had to buy tickets for three separate events at up to EUR 690 ($1121) each,” Adam Sage wrote in The Times.
“It led to athletics fans buying tickets for sports such as weightlifting and volleyball too, with the overall cost often topping EUR 1,000 ($1624) for a family.
“It’s completely crazy,” Florent Lamour, who works for the French Tennis Federation, said. “For me, it’s quite simply inaccessible. As a sports fan I find it very disappointing.”
Paris organisers say there will still be thousands of tickets to minor sports for EUR 50 ($81). But critics say the organisers have broken a promise to make the games accessible to all.
Coates blames poor planning for cost blow-outs at the Gabba.
“I don’t think enough thought had gone into the scoping of that before the decision was taken. But I still support the decision.
“While there has been a blowout at the Gabba its proximity to cross-river rail made it a very (good) venue.
“And if you want to get the first cricket Test back and if you want to look after the AFL it needed to be done. Brisbane needed it. You were being left behind by the other cities; left behind by Melbourne, Sydney, Adelaide, Perth in terms of cricket alone.”
He said ticket prices were high because organisers had to balance their budgets.
“Paris has been hit by the war in Ukraine and it has been affected by inflation,” he said.
“I won’t put a figure on how much over their original budget they are, but they can’t just go back to government and say you have to pick up the tab because of these other factors.
“The (organising committee) will have to try to balance it themselves, as will we.”
He said in Sydney and in London the IOC softened the blow for families by offering free seats to schoolkids at rowing events.
Coates said the London model of an independent Games delivery authority was not necessary for Brisbane 2032.
He backed the Deloitte report recommending a collective of government departments carry out the work.
The revitalisation of Woolloongabba will include an active travel corridor to South Bank and the CBD. The revitalisation of Woolloongabba will include an active travel corridor to South Bank and the CBD. “For Brisbane we don’t need to acquire sites or appropriate sites and, take control of them like London and Sydney had to,” he said.
“The Gabba and the site for Brisbane Arena (at Roma St) are already in government ownership.’’
And many others were under the control of councils.
He said there were some proposed venues on the Sunshine Coast and at Moreton Bay the government “didn’t own at the moment”.
He added: “There is not going to be any difficulties in appropriating land.
“Even the two main venues, the Gabba and the Brisbane Arena, are in what’s called Priority Development Areas and they are managed already by an entity called Economic Development Queensland and it’s got all the powers an (independent) authority would have to appropriate any adjoining land or other land you might need.” The IOC would monitor Brisbane’s progress, Coates said.
“The Olympic people (will) come in and say, ok, yes, we understand the Gabba is for cricket and for AFL but please in your scoping make sure you fulfil these requirements of World Athletics to run Olympic athletics. Please make sure your scoping includes all the IOC requirements for ceremonies.
“All of that stuff is being provided. The swimming details are being provided and it can be managed by these existing government departments who have got authority-type powers if they need them.”
Coates said he knew his position was in contrast to that of Sir David Higgins, the Queenslander knighted for delivering the 2012 London Olympics infrastructure a year early and $1bn under budget.
Higgins was critical of the decision by Annastacia Palaszczuk to run the delivery authority.
“It’s not going to work, is it,” said Sir David Higgins.
Higgins said planning had to be done at arm’s length from the government with bipartisan political support. And the taxpayer who had to pay for it had to be told what was happening every step of the way.
Sir David said he saw no signs of this happening in Queensland.
“You’ve got to have a clear brief, proper governance and an independent board so that it can work with the various sporting bodies and the IOC,’’ he said.
Moreton Bay Indoor Sport Centre planned for the Brisbane 2032 Olympic Games. “I think what is happening in Brisbane at the moment is a bit of a challenge.’’
Coates disagreed. He said there was no need “to set another bureaucracy”.
He pointed to the Sydney Olympic model.
“Do you know who ran everything there? Michael Knight. One man. Michael Knight was Minister for the Olympics and chair of the SOCOG (the Sydney Organising Committee for the Olympic Games).
“Michael was the minister responsible to Parliament.’’
Coates said Steven Miles, as Minister Assisting the Premier on Olympic Infrastructure, and Sports Minister Stirling Hinchliffe would likewise have to answer to Parliament for their decisions.
Coates said the Opposition also “had the protection of the Organising committee” including president Andrew Liveris, CEO Cindy Hook, a former Deloitte executive – “and their people and me if needs be.’’
“This will make it very transparent, absolutely.”
He said the work towards Brisbane 2032, “we call it B2032” was well underway.
“The IOC is already getting briefings monthly from B2032 on all these things,” he said.
“The IOC will have people here all the time.”
Would they be watching over the State Government departments?
“Yes,” said Coates.
“I am absolutely satisfied these projects will be completed before the Games and that they will meet the Olympic requirements.
“That’s what our objective is.’’

Palm Sunday 🌿
I truly, genuinely wish, we knew the truth about jesus christ and his life on this very planet 🌎 at that specific time ✨ in this particular universe 💫 why then? how many other times has he been here? and why did the disciples take 75y to document his life? why isn’t there ONE collection of these books? why such cloak and mirrors?
I M H O jesus is the biggest badass extraterrestrial alien of all time 🔥✝️ 🌴 a shapeshifter 🐾 and a multidimensional spirit 🫧 and I love him 🥰
he is the foremost influencer of this realm we call reality .. the realm that I’ve now come to realize is a simple game of strategy
and jesus’ strategy was to ask us AGAIN to stop being assholes to each other .. cause we didn’t listen when moses came .. nor when noah tried to save the animals when gaia and god wiped the earth clean of unruly humans 😕 yet once again, we’re being told bits here and there like it’s all ‘too much for us to handle’ .. got news for ya, he wants us to know IT ALL 🙌
so we know jesus was born glowing bright white 🤍 and ‘came from a star in the sky’, which could be seen for miles around 💥 just like noah who was so brilliantly white, you could not look upon him 😎
and like all the other star gods, his arrival was expected, as foretold for centuries 🌟 however I believe this was his RETURNING; I simply don’t see him as a first time party crasher 🤣
then he was greeted by three kings who gave him three gifts of gold, myrrh and frankincense .. two massively important antioxidants for the health of the human body, which have both been proven to cure cancer, and the most energy absorbing, energy conducting precious metal in the universe 🤔
and he landed in the same area where the great pyramids are located, which were built 11,000 years before christs arrival 😳 and are known conductors of electricity and power … hmmm
and we’re told by the Bible adam and eve were ‘formed’ 4,000y before christ 😬 funny then who built all those giant stone monoliths
and yet we are told snippets of his youth, a bit of his early teenage years and then we jump all the way to his early thirties before we kill him 🤥 sorry, however I am not buying that we don’t know what he did all that time .. we’ve been awaiting the dude for centuries and we just let him wander around for 25y without taking one single note?? 🫣🤭😅🤫😑
I call bullshit and I call it with the damn vatican and all the other religious leaders’ since the time they built the damn church some 1,900y ago … STOP LYING to us
we deserve the TRUTH 💜 he came here to tell us so who do they think they are modifying his message 😤
christ is the One, the Truth 💜 as is buddha and the other star gods who have participated in our lineage over millennia, speaking in many languages, to many peoples, all sharing the Truth: be kind live minimally and mindfully live small, sober and vigilant live with childlike wonder live honestly; do not covet, lie, murder nor steal live with genuine care for each other live in harmony with the earth be kind 💙
when when when will every soul here .. all eight billion .. understand this simple concept 😔 they’re gonna wipe the earth clean AGAIN and we’ll be witness, as we’re joining the others with eyes wide open, on the other side ✨
with the life of christ living within me, I wish you his peace and his love today and every day 🪷🪬🫧

Palm Sunday 🌿
I truly, genuinely wish, we knew the truth about jesus christ and his life on this very planet 🌎 at that specific time ✨ in this particular universe 💫 why then? how many other times has he been here? and why did the disciples take 75y to document his life? why isn’t there ONE collection of these books? why such cloak and mirrors?
I M H O jesus is the biggest badass extraterrestrial alien of all time 🔥✝️ 🌴 a shapeshifter 🐾 and a multidimensional spirit 🫧 and I love him 🥰
he is the foremost influencer of this realm we call reality .. the realm that I’ve now come to realize is a simple game of strategy
and jesus’ strategy was to ask us AGAIN to stop being assholes to each other .. cause we didn’t listen when moses came .. nor when noah tried to save the animals when gaia and god wiped the earth clean of unruly humans 😕 yet once again, we’re being told bits here and there like it’s all ‘too much for us to handle’ .. got news for ya, he wants us to know IT ALL 🙌
so we know jesus was born glowing bright white 🤍 and ‘came from a star in the sky’, which could be seen for miles around 💥 just like noah who was so brilliantly white, you could not look upon him 😎
and like all the other star gods, his arrival was expected, as foretold for centuries 🌟 however I believe this was his RETURNING; I simply don’t see him as a first time party crasher 🤣
then he was greeted by three kings who gave him three gifts of gold, myrrh and frankincense .. two massively important antioxidants for the health of the human body, which have both been proven to cure cancer, and the most energy absorbing, energy conducting precious metal in the universe 🤔
and he landed in the same area where the great pyramids are located, which were built 11,000 years before christs arrival 😳 and are known conductors of electricity and power … hmmm
and we’re told by the Bible adam and eve were ‘formed’ 4,000y before christ 😬 funny then who built all those giant stone monoliths
and yet we are told snippets of his youth, a bit of his early teenage years and then we jump all the way to his early thirties before we kill him 🤥 sorry, however I am not buying that we don’t know what he did all that time .. we’ve been awaiting the dude for centuries and we just let him wander around for 25y without taking one single note?? 🫣🤭😅🤫😑
I call bullshit and I call it with the damn vatican and all the other religious leaders’ since the time they built the damn church some 1,900y ago … STOP LYING to us
we deserve the TRUTH 💜 he came here to tell us so who do they think they are modifying his message 😤
christ is the One, the Truth 💜 as is buddha and the other star gods who have participated in our lineage over millennia, speaking in many languages, to many peoples, all sharing the Truth: be kind live minimally and mindfully live small, sober and vigilant live with childlike wonder live honestly; do not covet, lie, murder nor steal live with genuine care for each other live in harmony with the earth be kind 💙
when when when will every soul here .. all eight billion .. understand this simple concept 😔 they’re gonna wipe the earth clean AGAIN and we’ll be witness, as we’re joining the others with eyes wide open, on the other side ✨
with the life of christ living within me, I wish you his peace and his love today and every day 🪷🪬🫧

Palm Sunday 🌿
I truly, genuinely wish, we knew the truth about jesus christ and his life on this very planet 🌎 at that specific time ✨ in this particular universe 💫 why then? how many other times has he been here? and why did the disciples take 75y to document his life? why isn’t there ONE collection of these books? why such cloak and mirrors?
I M H O jesus is the biggest badass extraterrestrial alien of all time 🔥✝️ 🌴 a shapeshifter 🐾 and a multidimensional spirit 🫧 and I love him 🥰
he is the foremost influencer of this realm we call reality .. the realm that I’ve now come to realize is a simple game of strategy
and jesus’ strategy was to ask us AGAIN to stop being assholes to each other .. cause we didn’t listen when moses came .. nor when noah tried to save the animals when gaia and god wiped the earth clean of unruly humans 😕 yet once again, we’re being told bits here and there like it’s all ‘too much for us to handle’ .. got news for ya, he wants us to know IT ALL 🙌
so we know jesus was born glowing bright white 🤍 and ‘came from a star in the sky’, which could be seen for miles around 💥 just like noah who was so brilliantly white, you could not look upon him 😎
and like all the other star gods, his arrival was expected, as foretold for centuries 🌟 however I believe this was his RETURNING; I simply don’t see him as a first time party crasher 🤣
then he was greeted by three kings who gave him three gifts of gold, myrrh and frankincense .. two massively important antioxidants for the health of the human body, which have both been proven to cure cancer, and the most energy absorbing, energy conducting precious metal in the universe 🤔
and he landed in the same area where the great pyramids are located, which were built 11,000 years before christs arrival 😳 and are known conductors of electricity and power … hmmm
and we’re told by the Bible adam and eve were ‘formed’ 4,000y before christ 😬 funny then who built all those giant stone monoliths
and yet we are told snippets of his youth, a bit of his early teenage years and then we jump all the way to his early thirties before we kill him 🤥 sorry, however I am not buying that we don’t know what he did all that time .. we’ve been awaiting the dude for centuries and we just let him wander around for 25y without taking one single note?? 🫣🤭😅🤫😑
I call bullshit and I call it with the damn vatican and all the other religious leaders’ since the time they built the damn church some 1,900y ago … STOP LYING to us
we deserve the TRUTH 💜 he came here to tell us so who do they think they are modifying his message 😤
christ is the One, the Truth 💜 as is buddha and the other star gods who have participated in our lineage over millennia, speaking in many languages, to many peoples, all sharing the Truth: be kind live minimally and mindfully live small, sober and vigilant live with childlike wonder live honestly; do not covet, lie, murder nor steal live with genuine care for each other live in harmony with the earth be kind 💙
when when when will every soul here .. all eight billion .. understand this simple concept 😔 they’re gonna wipe the earth clean AGAIN and we’ll be witness, as we’re joining the others with eyes wide open, on the other side ✨
with the life of christ living within me, I wish you his peace and his love today and every day 🪷🪬🫧

Palm Sunday 🌿
I truly, genuinely wish, we knew the truth about jesus christ and his life on this very planet 🌎 at that specific time ✨ in this particular universe 💫 why then? how many other times has he been here? and why did the disciples take 75y to document his life? why isn’t there ONE collection of these books? why such cloak and mirrors?
I M H O jesus is the biggest badass extraterrestrial alien of all time 🔥✝️ 🌴 a shapeshifter 🐾 and a multidimensional spirit 🫧 and I love him 🥰
he is the foremost influencer of this realm we call reality .. the realm that I’ve now come to realize is a simple game of strategy
and jesus’ strategy was to ask us AGAIN to stop being assholes to each other .. cause we didn’t listen when moses came .. nor when noah tried to save the animals when gaia and god wiped the earth clean of unruly humans 😕 yet once again, we’re being told bits here and there like it’s all ‘too much for us to handle’ .. got news for ya, he wants us to know IT ALL 🙌
so we know jesus was born glowing bright white 🤍 and ‘came from a star in the sky’, which could be seen for miles around 💥 just like noah who was so brilliantly white, you could not look upon him 😎
and like all the other star gods, his arrival was expected, as foretold for centuries 🌟 however I believe this was his RETURNING; I simply don’t see him as a first time party crasher 🤣
then he was greeted by three kings who gave him three gifts of gold, myrrh and frankincense .. two massively important antioxidants for the health of the human body, which have both been proven to cure cancer, and the most energy absorbing, energy conducting precious metal in the universe 🤔
and he landed in the same area where the great pyramids are located, which were built 11,000 years before christs arrival 😳 and are known conductors of electricity and power … hmmm
and we’re told by the Bible adam and eve were ‘formed’ 4,000y before christ 😬 funny then who built all those giant stone monoliths
and yet we are told snippets of his youth, a bit of his early teenage years and then we jump all the way to his early thirties before we kill him 🤥 sorry, however I am not buying that we don’t know what he did all that time .. we’ve been awaiting the dude for centuries and we just let him wander around for 25y without taking one single note?? 🫣🤭😅🤫😑
I call bullshit and I call it with the damn vatican and all the other religious leaders’ since the time they built the damn church some 1,900y ago … STOP LYING to us
we deserve the TRUTH 💜 he came here to tell us so who do they think they are modifying his message 😤
christ is the One, the Truth 💜 as is buddha and the other star gods who have participated in our lineage over millennia, speaking in many languages, to many peoples, all sharing the Truth: be kind live minimally and mindfully live small, sober and vigilant live with childlike wonder live honestly; do not covet, lie, murder nor steal live with genuine care for each other live in harmony with the earth be kind 💙
when when when will every soul here .. all eight billion .. understand this simple concept 😔 they’re gonna wipe the earth clean AGAIN and we’ll be witness, as we’re joining the others with eyes wide open, on the other side ✨
with the life of christ living within me, I wish you his peace and his love today and every day 🪷🪬🫧

Turin, gojid Cradle ecologist.
Date [standardised human time]: May 5th, 2120
(16 years, 4 months before the invasion of the gojid Cradle).
Turin was pacing rapidly. She had checked, unpacked, and re-checked their first aid supplies. She had cleared the house of clutter and gone over their contingencies. But all the busy work had been done, and now Turin had to face it. This was it; this was the trap that Juran had set.
Braq’s voice had been curt and desperate on the radio having signaled her from Ki-yu’s den. A pair of children had been spotted on the mountain pass cameras, right where the roht tracks had been found. He had warned her to keep back, be ready to call assistance. It made sense, and without a second buggy she would not reach them for hours on foot anyway. But that left her and Imdi to sit and wait. Turin could not allow her fear to rule her, it would only distress her son.
Turin made two shaky cups of tea, trying to distract them with his homework. It was a simple short essay, but the lad struggled with his letters at the best of times. Just sitting beside him, she reflected on how much Imdi had grown. He was still a little boy, helpless in his own way, but clearly a person besides. What a strange symbiosis parenthood is; we need our children as much as they need us. Her mind wandered to the two youths on the trail camera. It could only have been Yotun and Callio, they were the closest, and the most likely to go wandering.
Juran’s played us, she realised. Either we call for help and acknowledge that there are dangerous predators here, or we feign ignorance and become complicit. Either way…
“Why…?” she whispered absentmindedly.
“Why what, Mama?” Imdi asked beside her. She shook her head, giving him a casual pat.
“Sorry sweetheart, I got distracted.” If we call for help we damn ourselves, if we don’t we damn ourselves again. We can hide Ki-yu, but we can’t hide this…
Turin snatched up the radio when it burst into static. It was something of a relief, even if it was short-lived. The mountainous terrain interfered with the signal, but Braq’s broken voice told her enough. The girl is dead, all others injured. She stood there with the silent handheld pressed to her ear. She heard the ocean roar about her mind, crashing white water above a darkened abyss. Braq and Ki-yu are still alive. She took the thought and lit it as a lamp to light her cabin.
"No,” she whispered. He can play his game, but I won't.
Turin called the ambulance right away. It would be at least two hours before a first responder reached them from the city. At the very least that gave them plenty of time to hide their daughter away. She was shaking as she made the last of three calls, the ringing signal grating against her quills.
“What’s happening Mama?” Imdi asked, still sitting at the table. With a heavy breath, she sat beside him once more. He looked at her quizzically as she pulled him away from his homework.
“It, uh, it seems that Callio and Yotun wandered onto the property. They’ve been hurt.”
“Hurt?” he squeaked. “Hurt bad?” She nodded, trying to keep her expression calm rather than crestfallen.
“Oh, sweetheart… I’m so sorry…”
~*~
They heard the buggy coming before they saw it, the roar of its engine waking Turin from the windowsill with a start. Imdi awoke in her lap as she moved to her feet, rubbing his raw eyes groggily. A quick glance at the clock told her it had been about an hour. She updated the silent countdown in her head, a sliver of worry that she had called for help too soon.
“Oh,” Imdi whimpered, looking up at her with a tear-dried face.
“Shh…” she coddled him. “Don’t worry.”
The buggy came screeching to a halt outside, and Turin took a breath to steady herself. We just have to keep moving, crest one wave and then the next.
Braq’s silhouette was already exiting the vehicle as she charged out the front door and toward the buggy. The afternoon sun had crashed into a meagre pale sundown, the lightest of yellows across the western sky.
“Braq!” she called out, blinded by the vehicle’s headlights. She almost stopped before she reached them, the smell of blood was frightfully strong. “Wha-?!”
“Keep him back!” Braq barked, cutting off the engine and the lights before he leaned into the backseat. Turin set down their son with a quick kiss. She hurried forward as Braq pulled back. Their daughter hung limply in his arms. A strip of pale fabric had been tied tight about her tail, slowly staining scarlet.
“Oh, Protector…” Turin moaned, reaching for the girl. Her endarkened eyelids fluttered at her voice, lips drawing into a pained smile as she felt Turin’s paw on her face.
“Mama…” she mumbled.
“It’s okay,” Turin whispered, “you’re home now.” Yotun was sitting idly in the passenger seat, watching them intensely. The look on his tear-marked face was one Turin thought belonged on war veterans and cattle victims.
“Th-the girl?” she asked weakly.
“She’s on the backseat,” Braq said hoarsely, blocking her path as she tried to look around him. “D-don’t,” he groaned. “Just don’t.” Yotun slid out of his seat. Turin glanced over at her son who was fretting with his claws nearby. “Imdi go help Yotun inside.”
“O-okay,” he mumbled. His eyes went wide at the long gashes in the approaching boy’s forearm, but he just swallowed hard and took his other paw. “Is Ku going to be okay?” he asked worriedly.
“Ku…” Yotun wheezed, almost a laugh.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she murmured, nodding to the lodge. “Go on.” She looked up at her partner's haggard face, silently asking the same.
“Broken tail,” he said, “cr-cracked ribs I’d suspect.”
“Internal damage? A haemorrhage?”
“N-no I don’t think so,” he panted, hobbling past her toward the house. The breath left her at the sight of her beloved’s back.
“Braq!” she gasped. A pair of long diagonal slashes had been cut from shoulder blade to pelvis, broken spines hanging loosely. Whilst the bleeding had stopped, the exposed tissue was shifting and raw beneath his torn hide. He was also limping, she saw, a fearful bitemark around his right ankle. Turin wanted to scream as she started after him.
“I’m okay,” he grunted, shifting all his weight onto his left leg as he walked. No, no you’re not! “Looks worse than it is. You called the parents?” he continued, ignoring their torment.
“Y-yeah,” she mumbled as they hurried through the threshold. Imdi had sat Yotun on the couch and was carefully setting out one of the first aid kits. The skinny boy looked up stiffly as they entered. “At least Laenar and Arrut. They’ll be here soon. Teraka didn’t answer.” Braq let out a shuddering sigh.
“W-we need to get her sorted before they arrive,” he said. With a short yip of pain, Ki-yu reached out for the couch. Her dark paw gripped Yotun’s shoulder stopping them from passing, the boy wide-eyed and slack-jawed at the contact. Ki-yu’s voice was slurred and lethargic, each breath heavy and deliberate.
“Pretty… drawings…” she wheezed. “Remember… burn… the forest…” Yotun bristled. Turin reached down and gently unhooked her claws, taking some comfort in their strength still despite her injuries.
“Hide her,” she told Braq. He shook his head.
“I n-need to get Callio from the buggy.”
“No, you look after Ki-yu,” she said firmly. “I’ll go get her.”
“N-no, it’s bad, I ca-”
“Braq, beloved. Look after her.” Braq looked quickly from Turin to the girl in his arms, before reluctantly nodding. Ki-yu was still mumbling as Braq walked with her down to her hidden bedding room.
“W-woods… stars…” Turin heard her say.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Braq whispered to her. “Try and rest.” Imdi tugged at Turin’s leg.
“Baba’s hurt…” her son mumbled.
“I know,” she said, rubbing his scalp. “He’s just got to look after Ki-yu for a little while. Okay?”
“O-okay…” He looked at her more insistently. “Mama, is Ku gonna be alright?”
“I…” He should not have to see any of this. The words caught in her throat, so she just nodded. “Why don’t you go help Baba, hm?”
“Okay…” he mumbled, doddering down the gloomy hall after them. Turin wished she could join them, to hold them all close and whisper sweet nothings.
If I stop now, I’ll drown.
Turin moved to where Imdi had studiously spread out the first aid kit and crouched down.
“Hey,” she said as softly as possible. “I need to take a look at that.”
Yotun flinched as she touched him, from fear or pain she knew not which. Turin pulled the arm straight as tenderly as she could. Yotun whimpered as she washed out the wound but otherwise said nothing. He just sat there, numb, quiet, and broken. The mother in her wailed. I can mend his arm at least. She bandaged it carefully, gave him some painkillers, and told him to try and rest.
Still, even that task was preferable to what Turin had to do next. She retrieved some white sheets from the laundry. They were not true funerary shrouds, specially thickened to prevent the dead’s quills from piercing the fabric, but they would do.
The pre-night gloom was setting in as Turin stepped outside again. The cool air carried a crying choir of forest creatures, making Turin feel like she was standing in a dream. She walked stiffly out to the buggy, stopping before she had the chance to look inside. The smell had only grown, but it was more than mere disgust; a bubble of terror encircled the vehicle. Crushing down the thundering panic before it built, Turin peered into the buggy. On one backseat was a small body, partially obscured by a bloodied poncho. Callio’s creamy fur peaked from beneath the fabric in places, tinged a dark blue. A tide of azure had flowed down into the seats, building a dried pattern in the footwell.
Turin turned away, stifling a keen. She remembered their first meeting, how that harrowing confrontation had become a cheerful moment of play by the seaside. She was so happy, Turin recalled. So bright. No more… Collecting herself, she retrieved the rifle, wedged haphazardly into the driver’s door, noting how the metalwork had buckled around the central chamber. She shrugged the strap over her shoulder and turned back to the body. I will not flinch, she told herself as she pulled back the covering. We owe her that much.
She did not balk, but it hurt her not to.
Callio lay on her side with closed eyes, curled up as if asleep. She was as at peace as she could be. Turin spread the sheet across the ground and moved to lay the girl to rest. She shuddered and stopped when shifting the torso made the head turn unnaturally, biting into the back of her own paw to stop herself from screaming. This could have been Braq… or Ki-yu… or even Imdi… Oh, Protector… With a shaky sigh, she laid her down on the sheet and, as respectfully as she could, Turin enwrapped the girl in white. The death of her aunt had been the first time Turin had seen loss, felt grief. To see that plump woman, full of raucous laughter, fond of gaiety and song, reduced to a body enwrapped and entombed…
Turin decided that she hated pale sheets as she carried Callio inside.
She laid the body on the table, then placed the broken weapon on the counter. Yotun still sat stiffly on the couch, as unmoving as a statue. Turin covered the first shawl with a thicker sheet, the form appearing less and less like a person. Looking down she saw blood had soaked onto her overalls, all over her paws. The clothing was ruined, but Turin would never want to wear it again anyway. She stripped and tossed her clothing into the bin. It felt as though the smell had sunk through her skin. She moved to the sink, trying to scrub the blood from herself, but the sponge just came away blue. She turned on the hot water until it was near scalding, trying to clean beneath her claws. It sloughed off her, falling into the inky depths. Turin made a quiet sob, shaking her head to try and will away her wet eyes.
“Mama?” Imdi squeaked behind her. Turin coughed, drying her hands.
“Yes, sweetheart?” she said, quickly wiping her tears. The boy was looking at the body with tearful eyes.
“Wh-what’s happening?” Falling to one knee, she pulled him to her breast.
“Something terrible, love.” She kissed his forehead, the smell of him like a prescient memory, cleansing the nauseating tones of death.
“Mama… I’m scared.”
“I know, it’ll be okay,” she whispered, swallowing to stop her voice from breaking.
“I d-don’t want to be scared,” he whispered. “I wanna be fearless, like you.” Turin let out a tearful chuckle. She leaned back against the cabinet, holding her son’s head gently in her paws.
“I’m not fearless,” she told him. His dark brown eyes were searching her own, the scar on his lip twitching. “Wanna know a secret? Everyone feels scared from time to time.”
“Even Ku?”
“Aheh… maybe a little.” She smiled as she flattened his spines. My handsome little man. “Listen. There’ll be many times in your life when you feel afraid.” She curled a knuckle on his breast. “Where you feel it ball up, right here, and you want to run away and hide. That fear will always be there. But you don’t have to run and hide. That fear can make you strong and brave if you let it push you. And the only way to do that is to try. So,” she rubbed his cheeks with the balls of her thumbs, ”will you be brave?” He snuffled, his tiny face pulling into a fretted smile.
“Okay,” he whispered. “I’ll try.” She brought her forehead to his.
“Good boy.” The soft fur of his face tickled her nose.
If I stop now I’ll drown.
“We’ll, uh, be having visitors soon,” she rasped, pulling back. “I… need to get ready… Why don’t you try and get ready for bed, hm?” The boy nodded a little reluctantly, disappearing down the hall once more.
Turin tried to distract herself by scrubbing through the security footage again, focusing her efforts on the hills around the attack. All trace of her needed to be cleared. But in the corner of her eye, she saw Imdi come toddling back. He sat on the couch beside the thinner boy.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hey,” Yotun replied, his eyes foggy and distant.
“Your arm…” Imdi mumbled, glancing cagily at him. “Does it hurt?”
“Yeah.” Yotun sniffed. He looked at the table, as though seeing it for the first time. The white cloth was a shroud over too small a body. “Your… ‘sister’… an arxur?”
“My sister,” Imdi said dryly, his gaze also lingering on the dead girl. “The arxur.” He sniffed. Then he sniffled. Very quickly he was crying, the quiet sound breaking Yotun from his stupor. An instant later the older boy was sobbing too and, in a moment that broke Turin’s heart, he put his working arm around the younger boy. The two leaned on each other for strength and cried.
Turin did what she could. She lit the fire, gave them blankets, and made some more tea. When she brought it to them, she found they had fallen into an exhausted sleep.
Soon thereafter, Braq hobbled back into the room. Her beloved wore a weary, complex expression as he looked at the sleeping boys, but she could see him take note of, then close off the sight of the girl on the table.
“Passed out,” he reported, moving to her side. “She was in a lot of pain. I’ve, uh, put some ice on her ribs, best we can do is to keep her still for a bit.”
“Oh, she’ll hate that,” Turin mumbled. She nodded to the boys. “This one should be okay, at least in the arm.”
“He, uh… was brave.” Braq conferred quietly. “I think he tried to lure it away from… from her, but…” He shook his head. “Stupid boy… What about the cameras?”
“Just going over the more recent stuff,” Turin said. Braq groaned deeply, then hissed at the twisting broken skin of his back as he leaned forward. Turin stood and pulled him toward the better-lit kitchen.
“Come here, let me sort you out.” Grumbling, her partner begrudgingly followed her.
His ankle had started to swell, the skin a deep purple. They applied some ice to bring down the swelling, but it would need to be thoroughly washed as well. Making him swallow some painkillers, she laid him face down on the countertop to clean his back.
“What happened?” she asked as she brought some hot water and cloth.
“She’d caught scent of it, found a path it was using regularly. We set up the bait, had headed back to her den to check the cameras.” He hissed as she layered on the first cloth. “That’s when we saw them. They were heading –ah!– right for it. I-I drove as fast as I could but…” His paws shook with anxious energy. “I told her to stay back, stay hidden but she didn’t listen. Heh,” he snorted sardonically. “Good thing too.” He looked her dead in the eye over his shoulder. “She killed it. Damn near ripped its head off.” Turin focused hard on the cleaning, trying not to mull over the implications. The disinfectant stung more than the water, Braq’s back taught from stress, fatigue, and pain. Turin kept talking to distract him.
“If, um, someone finds it, they’ll see her teeth marks…”
“I hid that,” he said. “Gun nearly blew apart, but I shot it point blank. Should look like I got it.” Yes… that could work… She took the opportunity to wash the wound in his ankle, the mucky, bloodied fluid staining the floor.
“I’ll have to clean that up,” Braq groaned, his face pressing into the countertop. Turin chuckled, tossing down a towel.
“You better,” she said glibly. Now cleaned, she could see the clear paired punctures where the roht’s canines had dug in, one tooth piercing to the bone. She wrapped it up tightly.
“Lover… the paramedics will have to have a look at this.”
“Figured,” he grumbled. Now clean, she sutured shut the broken hide of her beloved’s broad back. It would scar, and he may even lose quills, but it would heal. Braq got up almost before the last suture went in.
“You should sit and rest,” she told him, grabbing his wrist.
“So should you,” he said without spite. His paw came up beneath her chin, and she saw in his eyes the same wailing despair she felt. If I stop now I’ll drown. Braq made to hug her, but she stopped him with a palm on his chest.
“Please don’t…” she pleaded. She needed to stay strong for now. He took her paw and rubbed it absently but nodded. With a shaky sniff, he gestured to the sleeping boys.
“One of us needs to talk to him,” he said. “Which one do you want?”
“I-I’ll do it. Go keep an eye on the kids.” She squeezed his paw and kissed it. “We’ll be okay.”
“I know.” he said, leaving her leaning against the counter. He at least seemed to believe it. Braq leaned over the couch and lifted his son as carefully as he could, wincing at the pain in his foot. He nestled him in the crook of his massive arms, and walked down to his room.
With a heavy sigh, Turin sat down on the couch beside Yotun, still curled up in sleep.
“Yotun?” She tapped his knee. He stirred quickly with a frantic, panicked breath, crawling across the cushions. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Y-you didn’t,” he mumbled, drawing the blanket about him.
“Is your arm still hurting?” The boy nodded weakly, not meeting her eyes.
“Here,” she gave him his lukewarm cup of tea, noticing how his paws twitched and shuddered. Turin wished she could give him some time to recover, to reconcile, but they only had minutes now at best.
“I’m… so very sorry, sweetie,” she said softly, “but we need to talk before your parents get here.” Yotun swallowed hard.
“What’d y-you tell them?”
“That you’ve been hurt, and that a predator did it.” Turin sighed. “But we’re not talking about that, are we? We’re talking about Ki-yu.” Yotun looked at her like she had grown antlers, but the expression passed quickly.
“I k-kinda guessed,” he whispered. “But it didn’t make sense. You’ve been keeping her here? This whole time?”
“Yes,” she said. “I wish you could get the chance to know her properly.”
“She… left me…” he mumbled. “Alone… in the dark…”
“Yes. And afterward she turned up here in the middle of the night, a shivering, broken wreck. I’ve never seen her cry so much.” The boy looked up at her mistily.
“She… cried?” He shook his head morosely. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all over now…”
“Is it?” Turin asked, willing fire into her voice. “She certainly doesn’t seem to think so. ‘Burn the forest?’” He flinched. “She knows the risks of her discovery, far better than anyone. She knows that if it comes to it…” Turin stopped before she broke down. “And yet, she risked it all for you. In a heartbeat. She put her trust in you, Yotun.”
“Sh-she sh-shouldn’t have… I-I’m just a st-stupid kid!”
“I-” The alarm wailed for a split-second before Turin turned reached over and turned it all off, hiding their security system.
“Wh-what was that?”
“Proximity alert. Someone’s coming.”
“My parents?”
“Most likely.” Yotun drew himself down. This isn’t working…
Braq came limping up the hall.
“She’s still asleep, secure,” he said.
“Okay,” Turin breathed. “Then sit down, for Kay-ut’s sake, before you make that worse.” He settled into the windowsill seat. Turin placed a paw on Yotun’s uninjured arm.
“They’ll kill her,” she said firmly. “If you mention her at all, to anyone, they’ll kill her.”
“M-my p-parents wouldn’t-”
“Yes,” Turin said with a sad smile, knowing as all parents do. “They absolutely would.”
”They’d tell someone else at the very least,” Braq sighed. “And then they’d come for us all.”
“A-and they’d burn it all down to find her,” the boy shuddered.
The hovercar’s thwopping was now audible.
“We shouldn’t have to ask this of you, lad.” Braq said. “You’ve suffered too much already. But I think you know we’d both be dead right now without her.” Turin’s stomach rolled. Yotun looked fearfully between the two of them.
“Y-you’re asking me to lie?!”
“From what she’s told us, you’re the closest thing Ki-yu’s ever had to a real friend.” Turin implored him. “We’re asking you to save her.” Braq looked out of the window as she said it.
“They’re here.”
A door slammed outside. If I stop now I’ll drown. Turin gave his arm one last squeeze.
“Our lives are in your paws, Yotun.”
Please, please, please save her…
“Yotun!” Laenar cried out desperately, the front door thrown open as they charged in. Turin backed off as quickly as she could, knowing better than to come between them now.
“Oh, my boy!” The mother fell to her knees beside him. “Thank The Protector! Oh, your arm! Gods!” Stopping in the middle of the room, Arrut drew a quick sharp breath, his eyes on the table.
“Mercy…” he said simply, the light from the fireplace casting long shadows across the room. Laenar made a muted gasp, pulling Yotun tight against her. “The girl…?”
“Callio.” Braq said quietly. It was almost a whimper. There was a long silence, the only sound Laenar’s muted breathing.
“Wh-where’s the ambulance?” Arrut asked weakly. “Why didn’t you call an ambulance?”
“Too late,” Braq murmured mournfully. “It… it all happened too fast.”
“There’s one coming now,” Turin said, rubbing her forehead. “To… collect the body.”
“That’s not an ambulance,” Laenar said weakly. Arrut pulled his eyes away from the table, falling heavily into the chair beside Braq.
“My… stars man,” he murmured. “The state of your back…”
“Think of your son, you idiot!” Laenar gasped. Arrut shot her an incredulous look back.
“The wounds clean. H-he should be alright physically-” Turin started.
“Alright?! He’s been mauled!” She pulled her son’s face up to her. “What h-happened? Why were you out there?” His expression crumpled.
“We wanted to see the woods,” he said quietly.
“Wha- Why…?” The pudgy woman suddenly glared at Turin. “You did this! You perverted pair of-!”
“Laenar!” Arrut yelled. “That’s enough!”
“No, I’m sick of these people! Sick of this place! Why don’t you just-!”
“Shut up, Mother, shut up!” Yotun started yelling. “I did this, this’s my fault!” He winced as he jerked his slashed arm at them. “Braq saved me!”
”You’ve been through a lot, you don’t-!”
“M-my fau-lt! My-!” His words became incoherent, a violent sorrowful wailing. Laenar relented, looking as broken as her son. The boy was inconsolable, unable to speak, so Braq recounted what had happened. The parents listened intently, not saying a word. He told them how they had suspected something was not right in the Brackwood, carefully leaving out the signs of roht they had kept to themselves. He told them that he had found a dead vyrryn and tracks in the snow and had been watching the cameras when he had spotted the children. Braq’s voice broke when he explained how he had not got there in time. As his voice trailed off Turin knew that he was replaying those dreadful moments over and over again in his head.
Arrut stood, rubbing his mouth.
“Why didn’t you call the authorities?” he asked. “If you suspected there was this roht creature about, why didn’t you call for help?” Turin and Braq shared a glance.
“Because it doesn’t make sense,” she said. “Roht were never found here. They’re practically extinct.”
“So, what?” Laenar grunted. “You based your safety, all our safety, on your intuition?”
“No,” Braq said. “We’ve found… plasma wounds on animals, many fatal. Someone else has been in our woods.” He rubbed his face with both paws. “We don’t know who to trust.”
“And you think, what they’re trying to scare you off?” She scoffed. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Believe what you want,” Turin snapped. “We’ve got the photos to prove that someone’s been shooting our animals.”
“But… who would go wandering out here?” Arrut asked. “Most people are terrified of this place.”
Before anyone could answer, the sound of another arriving vehicle drew their attention, Braq glancing out the window. He leaned forward.
“Well… you were right,” he said. “It’s not an ambulance.” A quiet stillness came over them as the engine died; the gravel outside crunched beneath approaching steps. Moonlight filtered through the front window; the shadow of an impossibly tall man descended across their home. The phantom coalesced by the threshold, the figure looming for a moment. Then he straightened and knocked. Nobody moved. He knocked again, the noise rattling about Turin’s skull. She looked over at Braq and saw ire and worry warring in his eyes. A third knock, more insistent. Fuck…
Turin walked over and opened the door.
“Good evening Turin,” Juran said, giving her the slightest bow. His pale eyes hovered like pinpricks in the night.
“Juran. What’re you… doing… here…” Her voice left her as she saw who stood behind him. Juran strode past her as she struggled to form a thought.
“We were forwarded a rather desperate-sounding emergency call. Needless to say, we came as soon as we could.” There was a crashing, thundering sound in Turin’s ears. The other just stood there, looking at her expectantly. “Oh dear, nasty business this,” Juran was saying, stepping closer to the body. He clicked his tongue, as though examining shoddy craftmanship. “Very nasty business.” Juran looked quickly around the room, his eyes devouring all they saw. “And two survivors?” He clapped his paws together. “We were worried.”
“We?” Braq asked hoarsely.
“Oh, yes, I was meeting with an old friend.”
He strode in with the same confidence as the extermination officer.
“Teraka…” Arrut gasped. Juran stopped. Everyone stopped. They all just looked at him. Teraka looked nonplussed for a moment, but then he noticed the other parents’ gaze. His eyes passed over them questioningly.
“T-Teraka,” Turin gulped. “I couldn’t reach you… you didn’t…” The man looked at the body, then at Yotun. The lad was shaking, sobbing again in his mother’s arms.
“What is this?” Teraka hissed, his suave exterior melting away. Juran’s pale eyes narrowed, his head moving in a steady glacial turn to Turin. For the first time, she felt like she was actually looking at him. A long time ago, she would have called his expression predatory; now she would simply call it cruel.
“No…” Teraka gasped, pushing Juran aside as he staggered forward. He moved around the table like he feared it would cut him. Tenderly, he pulled back the sheets. It was… disturbing, how little the man reacted. He stilled, all that constant movement, those ceaseless platitudes quieted. He just stood there and looked.
“I suppose we’ve found what killed that brynn foal,” Juran said thinly. The chair squealed as Braq stood, her husband’s face contorting from the pain in his leg. Juran might have been taller, but Braq was undoubtedly the bigger man.
“Really?” he said, looking up at him. “’Cause I’d say that roht was only two or three years old. It would have been an infant when that brynn was killed.”
“Ah, quite right you are,” Juran said with a flash of teeth. “There must have been others.” Her beloved’s fists were held so tight the claws bit into his palms. “Well, regardless this will have to be thoroughly investigated. And of-” Juran was interrupted as Teraka strode over and struck him across the face. The tall man toppled into the bookshelf, clutching at his snout as their small library came tumbling down around him.
“Bastard!” Teraka snarled, his claws digging into Juran’s throat. A shout went out, Turin knew not from who, as the two men struggled. Laenar was gasping noisily trying to shield her son; Arrut and Braq trying to pull the raging father back but finding Teraka’s quills before them. Juran’s paws sinched tight around the smaller man’s wrists, and with a ferocious roar, he stood as quickly as he could, headbutting Teraka under the chin. Teraka staggered backward into the table, the legs screaming murder against the woodwork, Turin only barely stopping Callio’s body from sliding from it. The others were yelling at them, but the two men did not care as they traded blows like trained fighters. They fought viciously, reminding Turin of how Ki-yu hunted; no movement was wasted, no moment savoured. Teraka ducked under a wide backhand, jabbing with his claws for Juran’s chest. Juran blocked with his offhand, using his greater reach to keep Teraka at bay. He threw a brutal left hook that Teraka countered, then trapped. Growling in pain, Juran blocked Teraka’s follow-up, snatching a firm grip on the smaller man’s throat. His grip was so tight Turin saw his claws draw blood. Choking, Teraka kneed him in the groin, then palm struck him in the gullet. The two fell back wheezing, circling one another with quills out and eyes wide with rage.
“You’ve taken everything from me!” Teraka howled. Juran glared at him with his pale eyes, blood flowing down from his snout. “My job! My decency! My daughter!”
“You knew the cost!” he spat back. “It’s you who’ve betrayed my trust. I thought better of you…”
Surging in, Braq gripped Teraka’s left arm, trying to twist it around his back before the fight could resume. But the enraged father kicked the other man’s weakened leg out from under him, dropping him unceremoniously to the floor. With a bellowing cry, Arrut tackled Juran around the middle, the two crashing into the kitchen tiles. Teraka moved to make after them, but Braq took the opportunity to swipe out Teraka’s legs from the floor, evening the score. Growling like an animal, Braq pinned him on his back. Wrestling free of Arrut, Juran rose forward with murderous intent in his pale eyes. Fuck this! Turin snatched up the rifle where it still lay on the counter.
“Hey!” she snarled, the sound of her ratcheting the lever stalling the melee. The weapon had been damaged by the roht; Turin doubted it would fire at all, but the threat was sufficient. “I will not have any more blood spilled in my house!” Teraka struggled in Braq’s grapple.
“There is more at stake than this little shack!” the man hissed.
“Mind your words, Teraka,” Juran’s voice was as thin and sharp as a needle. “Or the cost will be far greater than one little girl.”
“Enough!” Turin roared. “Juran, we’ll cooperate with whatever investigation you deem necessary,” she barked, hiding the fearful lie behind the fire in her voice. “But for now, you’re leaving. I suggest you get that nose looked at.” There was a long and painful silence. The tall man regained his posture, wiping his nose.
“Thank you,” he said with a sickly-sweet smile. There was blood in his teeth. “My apologies for the disturbance, that was most unprofessional. I’ll be in touch.” With one last icy look at them all, he strode out into the night. Teraka struggled beneath Braq as his car shot up into the sky.
“Why’d you do that?!” he spat when he finally released him. “Why’d you do that, wh-why?!” And then he was crying, a pitiful, ruined wailing as he almost fell over the body of his little girl. They could not pull him away; he just kept crying. He was crying when Yotun left with his parents, and he was still crying when the ambulance finally arrived to take her away.
~*~
Ki-yu’s breathing had steadied, ice and a pillow across her chest seeming to help her sleep. Arxur were strong, and the bone had not shifted. The tail required more work —a splint and sutures— but the girl had slept through their treatment. With enough time, they were confident she would suffer no more than a new scar.
Turin's paw brushed across Ki-yu’s sheets, bloodied a fiery crimson. The mother swallowed a sob as she thought of Callio again. Ki-yu made a groaning sound, shifting slightly as her dark eyes flickered open. She peered up at Turin curiously, and for a second she almost seemed bemused. But then she felt her ribs, the ache making her whine.
“Hey,” Turin cooed, feeling the warmth of her scalp. “How do you feel?”
“Thirsty,” she rasped. Turin reached back for the cup of water she had brought.
“Here,” she whispered, bringing it to her scaly lips. “We’ll get you something to eat tomorrow.” Ki-yu gulped it down, then coughed slightly.
“I’ll be okay-”
“No, you’ll eat tomorrow,” Turin said, looking at her sharply. Ki-yu rattled a small huff but nodded.
“Wh-what happened?” she asked. “I thought I heard shouting…” Turin rubbed her paws on her knees.
“Teraka… I don’t think anyone would ever take that well…” Ki-yu scrunched up her face. A moment later recollection returned.
“Oh… I-” She started panting quickly, snorting out wet sobs. The girl dropped her head heavily onto her pillow, wet tears welling in her eyes. Snuffling, she started beating her snout against her bedding.
“Hey… sweetheart…” Turin purred, rubbing her shoulder. “Talk to me…” Ki-yu swallowed, a sound that was almost an Umph!
“I-I w-wasn’t f-fast enough, wa-sn’t good enough-!” The mother pushed her way onto the bed, laying her head on the damp pillow as she pulled her as tightly against her as she could.
“Shhh… You were superb.”
“B-but she-!” Ki-yu sniffled against her.
“You gave her a fighting chance, sweetie. You couldn’t have done any more.” Ki-yu was silent for a short moment, snuggling against her fuzzy chest. Turin hoped it gave the girl the same comfort as her.
“Yotun?”
“He’s gone home with his parents. So far, he hasn’t told them about you at all.”
“Wh-what happens now?” she asked weakly.
“We’ll sort that out,” Turin sighed. “Don’t you worry.” Turin sat up as a tiny figure draped in a long blanket waddled through the doorframe.
“Hey Ku,” Imdi squeaked.
“Hey dingus,” Ki-yu sniffled, making the little boy smile meekly.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked.
“Better,” she said, stretching out as she kept her eyes on the little gojid. “How about you?”
“Okay,” he mumbled, looking at her abashedly. “I, uh, just wanted to say i-it’s okay if you feel scared. I f-feel scared too, but…” He fidgeted with his claws. My brave little man. Ki-yu made a tired keen.
“Wanna stay here tonight?” she asked. He nodded fervently. Ki-yu smiled, spreading out the bedsheets. Imdi wriggled in beside her, the girl wrapping her long arms around him as she brushed down his spines.
“How about a song?” Ki-yu said with a wry smile. Turin sighed out a tired laugh.
“What do you think, Imdi?” she asked.
“All-mother’s prayer?” he replied. Turin always liked that one. It made her smile.
“Okay,” she said. “Just the one. Close your eyes.” The children settled in snugly, Turin singing as sweetly as she could.
“Kay-ut, All-mother, hear my prayer.
Hush, keep it quiet, simple, and fair.
Ki-ra hold your notes, Ki-yu stop your games.
And listen to children in their bedding frames.
A prayer for mummy, I know that’s right.
We played in the tunnels by candlelight.
The soft was clay, and the hard was rock.
Oh, All-mother save daddy, I almost forgot!
A wish for my sister whom I know the best.
I tell her I love her, and she gets the rest.
One more for brother, he lay next to me.
I’ve never adored another like he.
Oh, thank you Kay-ut for a lovely day.
For lighting your pyre to show me the way.
I’m forgetting someone, now who could that be?
Oh, of course! How silly! All-mother bless me.”
Her children were fast asleep as she finished the melody. Their peaceful stillness caused an ache in her heart.
“Goodnight sweethearts,” she whispered as she kissed their foreheads. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She rose and shut the door as quietly as she could.
Her beloved was sitting in bed with a wan expression. The paramedics had given both Braq and Yotun a once over and thoroughly chastised the man for staying on his feet. Her husband had denied being taken to hospital immediately, so had been ordered to remain bedridden until he would be collected in the morning.
“Can’t you sleep?” Turin said softly, Braq shaking his head stiffly. “No,” she said breathily. “I don’t think I can either. Th-the kids seem a little better. They help each other, I guess.”
“It’s Yotun I’d worry about,” Braq said numbly. “The lad… he’s been through a lot.” He drew in a deep breath. “And Teraka, thinking about it. No telling what he’ll do now. Goddess… that poor girl…” Turin scrubbed her paws in the basin, then threw some water on her face.
“What do you suppose he meant? ‘There’s more at stake than this little shack?’” Braq just shrugged absently. “I’ve been thinking, mutilating the roht was the right decision, but we also need to go over the house again.” She started pacing. “We should be as truthful as we can, go public with everything except Ki-yu. We knew there was something in the woods but couldn’t be sure. We also knew that Juran and Teraka had been killing our animals, we got some photos of their kills. We can use all that to make a case, bring it to the inquest.”
“Turin.” Braq mumbled.
“We’ll have to hide her as soon as possible, somewhere more remote,” she continued. “Deeper into the woods perhaps? Or find a den far across the valleys. But she can’t be too far removed so that we can keep an eye on her. She needs to be fed, so we’ll have to go stash her something…”
“Turin.”
“I think we should assume from now on that all our actions are being monitored, so that way-”
“Beloved…” Braq’s rough paw caught her wrist. He looked up at her earnestly. “It’s okay… you can stop now.”
“I…” The water flows in around her. “Every moment counts, we’ve got-“
“Tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll start early. But… please… you need to stop.” Turin shook her head.
“N-no, I- if I stop-!” Braq’s eyes grew teary, and she felt her fear ball in her chest. She hugged his head close where she stood, her lover's tears wetting her navel. “I-I-” Braq lovingly pulled her down into a tight hug. She felt castaway; her boat beached on some forgotten shore.
“Oh stars, Braq…” she whispered, exhausted as the surf crashed about her mind. “I’m s-so scared…”
“It’ll be okay,” he said. “It’ll be okay.”
Together, on that little island, they sobbed themselves to sleep.
---
“Men at some times are makers of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.”
– Cassius, in Julius Caesar, Act I Scene 2. Written by W. Shakespeare, 1599.
[Cover] - René Magritte
Links in comment.

on my way to buy a white chocolate bar

Section 1: New Mods, who dis?
SCJerk head mod Drama79 finally realises what an uncontrollable shit-hole SCJerk has become, so he adds two new mods to the team to clean up shop
An auto-mod is also being used more often to remove edgelord and off-topic posts. However just days after it begins being more active on the sub, SCJerk users start downvoting its posts. The account currently has an overall negative comment karma score.
SCJerk users complain about the auto-mod in this now removed thread
When Drama79 tries explaining the new rules and the role of the auto-mod, he gets downvoted for his troubles
Things get so bad that the mods literally have to make a pinned thread explaining what a circlejerk is
Section 2: Hating a wrestler doesn't count as a personality trait
With individual shit-posts being deleted at a record rate, some SCJerk posters have picked a new poison - hating a particular wrestling personality to the point of obsession. As SCJerk users tend to target women, it's no suprise that Fusionman29 made all of these posts about Britt Baker in the space of just a few days;
In reference to alledged beef between Britt and Thunder Rosa;

Remember when I buried Thunder Rosa because I’m racist and my entire friend clique is strangely white women?
There’s undertones to “everything that comes out of Rosa’s mouth is stupid” combined with “everything that she says SOUNDS DUMB”. Also there’s the multiple clips of her blaming the injured woman for being hurt as it hurts her I mean the womens division
So I’m surprised nobody’s brought it up yet but Rosa is now using her Twitter to translate Tony’s PR tweets. So she’s been made to apologize to the people who bullied her and now has been turned into a PR translator. This is insane. How did Britt and her clique get that much political power in AEW?
Britt will make sure no photos of Rosa are in that hall of fame. She’ll just put her own egotistical self over and make you write a 100 word minimum essay about how Britt saved womens wrestling to enter her wing
“No AEW all access is in kayfabe, Britt isn’t a politicking mean girl”
so if we’re assuming this is AEW’s pitch that all access is “authentic” are we supposed to believe they think Britt clearly bullying Rosa is acceptable to air? at this point even if Britt was right I’d side against her cause she bullies Rosa non-stop for around a year now. No professional company should be rewarding Britt for all of this
Britt realized losing that feud means someone is more important than her can’t have that brother
Britt Baker: I’m not a bully but Rosa is a liar and it’s all her fault Tony can’t book women! Why can’t Rosa just work injured!
She’s a dentist she knows Rosa should be medically cleared! She has a medical degree after all!
Because Tony runs AEW and Tony can’t see why anyone would be mad at Britt Baker, the kindest, sweetest woman ever
“See I have the same injury as Rosa and I can wrestle. Guess she’s just selfish and lazy and stupid.” This fucking woman is legit going to get blackballed by wwe and somehow take Cole down with her
I can’t imagine why she isn’t going to the company where the bosses favorite is at best a horrible toxic bitch to her and at worst racially charged hatred and jealously constantly. In a culture that condones the bullying as we see constantly

In a unrelated thread about Rhea Ripley;

Well she’s a gross muscular woman with muscles. She should look like she’s never hit a gym in her life to be a real star. Maybe become a dentist

When Matt Hardy makes a tweet about AEW's booking;

Tony Khan isn’t a mark! He just doesn’t listen to the best minds in the business and instead listens to Britt Baker and Cutie Marshalls!

This is all on top of a thread he made earlier in the month where he accused Britt of being a racist;

I can’t believe AEW would air footage making their top woman look like the racist Karen she actually is

Section 3: Users we lost
Evilknievel- - SCJerk user who made this misogynistic post about Aubrey Edwards back in January has been suspended by Reddit
Section 4: General edgelord behaviour

Stardom is pretty fun, but it's a niche company for creepy old men who like watching young girls do badass or cute goofy stuff.
The Western Stardom fanbase is 90% fetishists, 5% people who are genuinely interested in it, and a further 5% of people who are genuinely interested in it, but understand that banging on about it makes them look like they've got a fetish, so just watch it quietly.

The auto-mod removed alot of individual posts so the last section is short of material this month.

PODCAST: https://ayearofwarandpeace.podbean.com/e/ep1522-hail-and-farewell-george-moore-ave-chapter-121/
PROMPTS: Today's Reading, via Project Gutenberg:
Today's Reading, via Project Gutenberg:

XII

A room had been hired at the Shelbourne Hotel, and the mornings were spent writing The Bending of the Bough It could be finished in the next three weeks if I fortuned upon somebody who could explain the various sections and parties in Irish politics, all striving for mastery at that time; somebody acquainted enough with the country to unravel the Lord Castletown incident, and expound the Healy problem, the O'Brien problem, the Redmond problem, and the great many other political problems with which the play is beset.
There is little use in writing when there is no clear vision in the mind; the pen stops of its own accord, and I often rose from my chair and walked about the room, my feet at last finding their way through the hotel, and down the street as far as the Kildare Street Club, to ask Edward if he would tell me. He would tell me nothing. His present to the Irish Literary Theatre was his play, and I was free to alter it as I pleased, putting the last act first and the first act last, but he would not help me to alter it; and it was impossible not to feel that it was reasonable for him to refuse.
What do you think of the title—The Bending of the Bough?
The Tale of a Town is a better title. And after some heated words we left the Club one evening together. You must sign the play, he said, turning suddenly.
I sign the play! I answered, all my literary vanity ablaze. No; but I'll put adapted from.
I'll have no adaptations; I'll have nothing to do with your version; and he wrenched himself free from me, leaving me to go my way, thinking that here was nothing for it but to sign a work that was not mine. I, too, am sacrificing to Cathleen ni Houlihan; one sacrifice brings many. And to escape from the hag whom I could see wrapped in a faded shawl, her legs in grey worsted stockings, her feet in brogues, I packed my trunk and went away by the mail-boat laughing at myself, and at the same time not quite sure that she was not still at my heels. Cathleen follows her sons across the seas; and she did not seem to be very far away in the morning in Victoria Street, while Edward's play was before me. After writing some lines of vituperation quite in the Irish style, I would lay down the pen and cry: Cathleen, art thou satisfied with me? And it seemed an exquisite joke to voice Ireland's woes, until one day I stopped in Ebury Street, abashed; for it was not a victory for our soldiers that I desired to read in the paper just bought from the boy who had rushed past me, yelling News from the Front, but one for the Boers. The war was forgotten, and I walked on slowly, frightened lest this sudden and inexplicable movement of soul should be something more than a merely accidental mental vacillation.
It may be no more, and it may be that I am changing, I whispered under my breath; and then, charging myself with faint-heartedness and superstition, I walked on, trying to believe that I should be myself again next morning.
It was a bad sign to lie awake all night, thinking of what happened in Ebury Street the evening before, and asking if I really did desire that the Boers should win the fight and keep their country; and it was a worse sign to read without interest headlines announcing a forward movement of our troops. On turning over the pages, a rumour (it was given as a rumour) that the Boers were retreating northward caught my eye; the paper was thrown aside, and an hour was spent wondering why the paper had been tossed aside so negligently. Was it because I had become, without knowing it, Pro-Boer? That was it, for next morning, on reading that five hundred of our troops had been taken prisoners, I was swept away by a great joy, and it was a long time before I could recover sufficient calm of mind to ask myself the reason of all this sympathy for illiterate farmers speaking a Dutch dialect in which no book had yet been written; a people without any sentiment of art, without a past, without folklore, and therefore, in some respect, a less reputable people than the Irish. I had seen some finely designed swords in the Dublin Museum, forged, without doubt, in the late Bronze Age, and Coffey had shown me the splendid bits that the ancient Irish put into their horses' jaws. There was the monkish Book of Kells, a beautiful thing in a way; the Cross of Cong was made in Roscommon, and by an Irish artist; it bears the name of its maker, an Irish name, so there can be no doubt as to its nationality. There are some fine legends, the rudiments of a literature that had not been carried into culture, the Irish not being a thinking race ... perhaps.
After that I must have fallen into a deep lethargy. On awakening, I remembered the autumn evening in Edward's park, when Cathleen ni Houlihan rose out of the plain that lies at the foot of the Burran Mountains, and came, foot-sore and weary, up through the beech-grove to me. I had not the heart to repulse her, so hapless did she seem; nor did I remember the danger of listening to her till I had stood before Edward telling him the story of the meeting in the park.
It is dangerous, I had said to him, to listen to Cathleen even for a moment; she has brought no good luck or good health to any one.
The morning paper was picked up from the hearthrug, and the news of the capture of our troops read again and again, the same thrill of joy coming into my heart. The Englishman that was in me (he that wrote Esther Waters) had been overtaken and captured by the Irishman. Strange, for all my life had been lived in England. When I went to Ireland I always experienced a sense of being a stranger in my own country, and, like many another Irishman, had come to think that I was immune from the disease that overtakes all Irishmen sooner or later—that moment in Edward's park was enough for me, and ever since the disease had been multiplying in secret: the incident in Ebury Street was only a symptom.... A moment after I was asking myself if the microbe were sown that evening in Edward's park, or if the introduction of it could be traced back to the afternoon in Victoria Street, when Edward and Yeats had called to ask me to join in their attempt to give a National Literary Theatre to Ireland. It might be traced further back still, to the evening in the Temple when Edward had told me that he would like to write his plays in Irish; and there arose up in me the memory of that midnight when I wandered among the courts and halls, dreaming of Ireland, of the story of wild country life that I might write.
It was then that I caught the disease, I said; a sort of spiritual consumption; it was then that the microbe first got into my soul and ate away most of it without my being aware of its presence, or of the ravages caused by it, until the greater part of me collapsed in Ebury Street.
And what was still more serious was that out of the wreck and rubble of my former self a new self had arisen. It could not be that the old self that had worshipped pride, strength, courage, and egoism should now crave for justice and righteousness, and should pause to consider humility and obedience as virtues, and might be moved to advocate chastity tomorrow. Such a thing could not be. A new self had grown up within me, or had taken possession of me. It is hard to analyse a spiritual transformation; one knows little about oneself; life is mysterious. Only this can I say for certain, that I learnt then that ideas are as necessary to us as our skins; and, like one that has been flayed, I sat wondering whether new ideas would clothe me again, until a piece of burning coal falling from the grate into the fender awoke me from my reverie. When I had put it back among the live embers, I said: My past life crumbles away like that piece of coal; in a few moments it will be all gone from me, and my new self will then be alone in me, and powerful enough to lead me into a new life. Into what life will it lead me? Into what Christianity?
I wandered across the room to consult the looking-glass, curious to know if the great spiritual changes that were happening in me were recognisable upon my face; but the mirror does not give back characteristic expression, and to find out whether the expression of my face had changed I should have to consult my portrait-painters: Steer, Tonks, and Sickert would be able to tell me. And that night at Steer's, after a passionate protest against the wickedness and the stupidity of the Boer War delivered across his dining-table, I got up and walked round the room, feeling myself to be unlike the portraits they had painted of me, every one of which had been done before the war. The external appearance no doubt remained, but the acquisition of a moral conscience must have modified it. As I was about to launch my question on the company, I caught sight of the little black eyes that Steer screws up when he looks at anything; all the other features are insignificant; the eyes are all that one notices, and the full, sleek outlines of the face. His shoulders slope a little, like mine, and the body is long, and the large feet shuffle down the street in goloshes if the weather be wet, and in the studio in carpet slippers. Long white hands droop from his cuffs—hands that I remember carrying canvases from one easel to another. Tonks is lank and long in every limb, and one remembers him as a herring-gutted fellow, with a high bridge on his nose; and one remembers him much more for the true, honest heart that always goes with his appearance. I could see that he sympathised with the Boer women and children dying in concentration camps, and that Steer was thinking of the pictures he had brought home from the country. It was shameful that any one should be able to think of pictures at such a time, but Steer takes no interest in morals; his world is an external world; and I abandoned myself somewhat cowardly to his pictures till the end of the evening, thinking all the while that Tonks would understand my perplexities better, and that the time to speak to him would be when we walked home together.

In 1963, Rose Cheramie was a heroin addict with a long list of prostitution and other arrests. According to a Louisiana State Police report from mid-November 1963, she worked “as a dope runner for Jack Ruby,” and had “worked in the night club for Ruby and that she was forced to go to Florida with another man whom she did not name to pick up a shipment of dope to take back to Dallas and that she didn’t want to do this thing but she had a young child and that they would hurt her child if she didn’t.” On November 20, two days before the JFK assassination, she was thrown out of a brothel in Louisiana by the two men she was traveling with and was hit by a car. Suffering from heroin withdrawal, she was taken to East Louisiana State Mental Hospital by Lt. Fruge of the Louisiana State Police to sober up.
During the ride to the hospital, Rose told Fruge she was traveling from Florida to Dallas with two Italian looking men and they were going to Dallas to kill Kennedy. They were actually Cuban exiles active in the war against Fidel Castro. One was Sergio Arcacha Smith, who worked closely with JFK assassination suspect Guy Banister in New Orleans. David Lewis, a former employee of Banister, told the New Orleans DA’s Office that he had witnessed a meeting in the late summer of 1963 at Mancuso’s Restaurant in New Orleans between Arcacha, Lee Harvey Oswald and a man named Carlos whose last name Lewis did not know.
Dr. Victor Weis, a psychiatrist at the hospital, confirmed that Cheramie also told him that she knew both Ruby and Oswald and had seen them together on several occasions in Ruby’s club. The word spread throughout the hospital that Cheramie had predicted the JFK assassination and had implicated Jack Ruby. On November 25, Louisiana State Police Captain Ben Morgan came to the hospital to hear her story first-hand. The next day, Fruge and Morgan flew in a small private jet to Houston and everything she said checked out. Customs found her reservation at the Rice Hotel; the boat identified by Rose, the SS Maturata, was due in port soon; and an agent confirmed that the Dallas man holding Cheramie’s child was a suspected drug dealer. Rose said the seaman aboard the ship was named Luther, and Houston police records show that “Luther” may have been Joseph P. Luke, a narcotic trafficker who was closely associated with Joseph Civello of the Dallas Mafia, who worked for Carlos Marcello. Customs corroborated Rose’s information that the Houston and Dallas Mafia families were involved, and both “had records or reputations for narcotics [and] white slavery [prostitution].” However, when Captained Morgan phoned Capt. Fritz of the Dallas Police to relay the evidence they had, amazingly he was told they were not interested in Rose’s story.
Not surprisingly, customs agents lost track of the seaman they were tailing, and they didn’t bother to interview the Mafia families involved or place them under surveillance. The Houston police wanted to drop the investigation. The Secret Service filed a report, but that was it. Years later, Congressional investigators wrote that when they looked into the matter, “US Customs was unable to locate documents and reports related to its involvement in the Cheramie investigation,” although such involvement was not denied.
Also in November 1963, Carlos Marcello was acquitted at trial in the government’s latest attempt to have him deported, but Rose would attempt one last time to convince authorities to take down the New Orleans Mafia boss. In August 1965, she told FBI agents that “individuals associated with the syndicate were running prostitution rings in several southern cities such as Houston and Galveston, Texas…furthermore, she claimed she had information about a heroin deal operating from a New Orleans ship.” Congressional investigators found that her story checked out, just as her November 1963 information had. An FBI “call to the Coast Guard verified an ongoing narcotics investigation of the ship” Cheramie had named. The prostitution ring she described sounded very much like an operation run by Marcello lieutenant Nofio Pecora, whom Jack Ruby had called just three weeks before JFK’s assassination. However, as in 1963, the New Orleans FBI, who turned a blind eye to Marcello’s illegal operations, dropped the case. Had the FBI and the Federal Bureau of Narcotics pursued the matter, they would have uncovered a heroin trail through New Orleans that reached all the way to France.
One month after Rose contacted the FBI in August 1965, she was dead. Congressional investigators found that “Cheramie died of injuries received from an automobile accident on a strip of highway near Big Sandy, Tex., in the early morning of September 4, 1965. The driver stated Cheramie had been lying in the roadway and although he attempted to avoid hitting her, he ran over the top of her skull, causing fatal injuries.” Though her official autopsy records had disappeared by the time investigators had tried to find them, one medical file that survived said that Rose had a “deep punctuate stellate [star-shaped] wound above her right forehead.” Such a wound would not have been caused by a car or tire but could have been caused by a pistol fired next to her skull. Dr. Charles Crenshaw claimed in his book that the wound was consistent with “gunshot wounds - that is, when a gun barrel is placed against a victim’s body and discharged. It is especially applicable to a gunshot wound of the skull.”
And the Mafia in Louisiana and Texas continued operation as if nothing had happened. For more stories like this, check out the books, It Did Not Start With JFK, The Decades of Events That Led to the Assassination of John F. Kennedy, Volumes 1 &2, published by Sunbury Press.
Rose Cheramie
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In 1963, Rose Cheramie was a heroin addict with a long list of prostitution and other arrests. According to a Louisiana State Police report from mid-November 1963, she worked “as a dope runner for Jack Ruby,” and had “worked in the night club for Ruby and that she was forced to go to Florida with another man whom she did not name to pick up a shipment of dope to take back to Dallas and that she didn’t want to do this thing but she had a young child and that they would hurt her child if she didn’t.” On November 20, two days before the JFK assassination, she was thrown out of a brothel in Louisiana by the two men she was traveling with and was hit by a car. Suffering from heroin withdrawal, she was taken to East Louisiana State Mental Hospital by Lt. Fruge of the Louisiana State Police to sober up.
During the ride to the hospital, Rose told Fruge she was traveling from Florida to Dallas with two Italian looking men and they were going to Dallas to kill Kennedy. They were actually Cuban exiles active in the war against Fidel Castro. One was Sergio Arcacha Smith, who worked closely with JFK assassination suspect Guy Banister in New Orleans. David Lewis, a former employee of Banister, told the New Orleans DA’s Office that he had witnessed a meeting in the late summer of 1963 at Mancuso’s Restaurant in New Orleans between Arcacha, Lee Harvey Oswald and a man named Carlos whose last name Lewis did not know.
Dr. Victor Weis, a psychiatrist at the hospital, confirmed that Cheramie also told him that she knew both Ruby and Oswald and had seen them together on several occasions in Ruby’s club. The word spread throughout the hospital that Cheramie had predicted the JFK assassination and had implicated Jack Ruby. On November 25, Louisiana State Police Captain Ben Morgan came to the hospital to hear her story first-hand. The next day, Fruge and Morgan flew in a small private jet to Houston and everything she said checked out. Customs found her reservation at the Rice Hotel; the boat identified by Rose, the SS Maturata, was due in port soon; and an agent confirmed that the Dallas man holding Cheramie’s child was a suspected drug dealer. Rose said the seaman aboard the ship was named Luther, and Houston police records show that “Luther” may have been Joseph P. Luke, a narcotic trafficker who was closely associated with Joseph Civello of the Dallas Mafia, who worked for Carlos Marcello. Customs corroborated Rose’s information that the Houston and Dallas Mafia families were involved, and both “had records or reputations for narcotics [and] white slavery [prostitution].” However, when Captained Morgan phoned Capt. Fritz of the Dallas Police to relay the evidence they had, amazingly he was told they were not interested in Rose’s story.
Not surprisingly, customs agents lost track of the seaman they were tailing, and they didn’t bother to interview the Mafia families involved or place them under surveillance. The Houston police wanted to drop the investigation. The Secret Service filed a report, but that was it. Years later, Congressional investigators wrote that when they looked into the matter, “US Customs was unable to locate documents and reports related to its involvement in the Cheramie investigation,” although such involvement was not denied.
Also in November 1963, Carlos Marcello was acquitted at trial in the government’s latest attempt to have him deported, but Rose would attempt one last time to convince authorities to take down the New Orleans Mafia boss. In August 1965, she told FBI agents that “individuals associated with the syndicate were running prostitution rings in several southern cities such as Houston and Galveston, Texas…furthermore, she claimed she had information about a heroin deal operating from a New Orleans ship.” Congressional investigators found that her story checked out, just as her November 1963 information had. An FBI “call to the Coast Guard verified an ongoing narcotics investigation of the ship” Cheramie had named. The prostitution ring she described sounded very much like an operation run by Marcello lieutenant Nofio Pecora, whom Jack Ruby had called just three weeks before JFK’s assassination. However, as in 1963, the New Orleans FBI, who turned a blind eye to Marcello’s illegal operations, dropped the case. Had the FBI and the Federal Bureau of Narcotics pursued the matter, they would have uncovered a heroin trail through New Orleans that reached all the way to France.
One month after Rose contacted the FBI in August 1965, she was dead. Congressional investigators found that “Cheramie died of injuries received from an automobile accident on a strip of highway near Big Sandy, Tex., in the early morning of September 4, 1965. The driver stated Cheramie had been lying in the roadway and although he attempted to avoid hitting her, he ran over the top of her skull, causing fatal injuries.” Though her official autopsy records had disappeared by the time investigators had tried to find them, one medical file that survived said that Rose had a “deep punctuate stellate [star-shaped] wound above her right forehead.” Such a wound would not have been caused by a car or tire but could have been caused by a pistol fired next to her skull. Dr. Charles Crenshaw claimed in his book that the wound was consistent with “gunshot wounds - that is, when a gun barrel is placed against a victim’s body and discharged. It is especially applicable to a gunshot wound of the skull.”
And the Mafia in Louisiana and Texas continued operation as if nothing had happened. For more stories like this, check out the books, It Did Not Start With JFK, The Decades of Events That Led to the Assassination of John F. Kennedy, Volumes 1 &2, published by Sunbury Press.
Rose Cheramie
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In 1963, Rose Cheramie was a heroin addict with a long list of prostitution and other arrests. According to a Louisiana State Police report from mid-November 1963, she worked “as a dope runner for Jack Ruby,” and had “worked in the night club for Ruby and that she was forced to go to Florida with another man whom she did not name to pick up a shipment of dope to take back to Dallas and that she didn’t want to do this thing but she had a young child and that they would hurt her child if she didn’t.” On November 20, two days before the JFK assassination, she was thrown out of a brothel in Louisiana by the two men she was traveling with and was hit by a car. Suffering from heroin withdrawal, she was taken to East Louisiana State Mental Hospital by Lt. Fruge of the Louisiana State Police to sober up.
During the ride to the hospital, Rose told Fruge she was traveling from Florida to Dallas with two Italian looking men and they were going to Dallas to kill Kennedy. They were actually Cuban exiles active in the war against Fidel Castro. One was Sergio Arcacha Smith, who worked closely with JFK assassination suspect Guy Banister in New Orleans. David Lewis, a former employee of Banister, told the New Orleans DA’s Office that he had witnessed a meeting in the late summer of 1963 at Mancuso’s Restaurant in New Orleans between Arcacha, Lee Harvey Oswald and a man named Carlos whose last name Lewis did not know.
Dr. Victor Weis, a psychiatrist at the hospital, confirmed that Cheramie also told him that she knew both Ruby and Oswald and had seen them together on several occasions in Ruby’s club. The word spread throughout the hospital that Cheramie had predicted the JFK assassination and had implicated Jack Ruby. On November 25, Louisiana State Police Captain Ben Morgan came to the hospital to hear her story first-hand. The next day, Fruge and Morgan flew in a small private jet to Houston and everything she said checked out. Customs found her reservation at the Rice Hotel; the boat identified by Rose, the SS Maturata, was due in port soon; and an agent confirmed that the Dallas man holding Cheramie’s child was a suspected drug dealer. Rose said the seaman aboard the ship was named Luther, and Houston police records show that “Luther” may have been Joseph P. Luke, a narcotic trafficker who was closely associated with Joseph Civello of the Dallas Mafia, who worked for Carlos Marcello. Customs corroborated Rose’s information that the Houston and Dallas Mafia families were involved, and both “had records or reputations for narcotics [and] white slavery [prostitution].” However, when Captained Morgan phoned Capt. Fritz of the Dallas Police to relay the evidence they had, amazingly he was told they were not interested in Rose’s story.
Not surprisingly, customs agents lost track of the seaman they were tailing, and they didn’t bother to interview the Mafia families involved or place them under surveillance. The Houston police wanted to drop the investigation. The Secret Service filed a report, but that was it. Years later, Congressional investigators wrote that when they looked into the matter, “US Customs was unable to locate documents and reports related to its involvement in the Cheramie investigation,” although such involvement was not denied.
Also in November 1963, Carlos Marcello was acquitted at trial in the government’s latest attempt to have him deported, but Rose would attempt one last time to convince authorities to take down the New Orleans Mafia boss. In August 1965, she told FBI agents that “individuals associated with the syndicate were running prostitution rings in several southern cities such as Houston and Galveston, Texas…furthermore, she claimed she had information about a heroin deal operating from a New Orleans ship.” Congressional investigators found that her story checked out, just as her November 1963 information had. An FBI “call to the Coast Guard verified an ongoing narcotics investigation of the ship” Cheramie had named. The prostitution ring she described sounded very much like an operation run by Marcello lieutenant Nofio Pecora, whom Jack Ruby had called just three weeks before JFK’s assassination. However, as in 1963, the New Orleans FBI, who turned a blind eye to Marcello’s illegal operations, dropped the case. Had the FBI and the Federal Bureau of Narcotics pursued the matter, they would have uncovered a heroin trail through New Orleans that reached all the way to France.
One month after Rose contacted the FBI in August 1965, she was dead. Congressional investigators found that “Cheramie died of injuries received from an automobile accident on a strip of highway near Big Sandy, Tex., in the early morning of September 4, 1965. The driver stated Cheramie had been lying in the roadway and although he attempted to avoid hitting her, he ran over the top of her skull, causing fatal injuries.” Though her official autopsy records had disappeared by the time investigators had tried to find them, one medical file that survived said that Rose had a “deep punctuate stellate [star-shaped] wound above her right forehead.” Such a wound would not have been caused by a car or tire but could have been caused by a pistol fired next to her skull. Dr. Charles Crenshaw claimed in his book that the wound was consistent with “gunshot wounds - that is, when a gun barrel is placed against a victim’s body and discharged. It is especially applicable to a gunshot wound of the skull.”
And the Mafia in Louisiana and Texas continued operation as if nothing had happened. For more stories like this, check out the books, It Did Not Start With JFK, The Decades of Events That Led to the Assassination of John F. Kennedy, Volumes 1 &2, published by Sunbury Press.
Rose Cheramie
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