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rennorthernlights · 9 months

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The World We Knew

Chapter 1, Chapter 2: Take a Trip Down The Lane, Chapter 3,

Warnings: Cannon typical violence, Zombies, Zombie Death, mentions of family death

August ish, 2023. Time??? Location: outskirts of Navasota, Texas.

“Gaz, you almost got it fixed, yeah?” The voice calls out making Gaz jolt. Too lost in his world to realize that his Captain was peering over his shoulder. Gaz has been working on it since Soap managed to nab it back when they were passing College Station. Soap got a massive earful from Ghost and Price considering he almost become zombie fodder.

“Aye, sir, almost got it.” It’s been driving Gaz mad for the last couple of days. The man has nearly lost his patience on it more times than he can count and that’s saying something considering he has the patience of a mountain… sometimes. “Bugger just won’t—“

A muffled voice that slowly becomes clearer as the radio tunes into the signal. “Oh and you won’t believe what I did today,” Gaz and Price freezes as they hear a woman’s voice on the radio. They share eye contact as they listen in. Hoping that it’s not a hoax or a figment of their imagination. “Managed to nab a blanket for once. Sometimes Texas is warm and other times is— BZZZ”

“No, no, no,” Gaz says as he angles the radio to try and listen to her speak again. Price sighs and claps a hand on Gaz’s shoulder. A firm squeeze as he looks at his Sergeant. “It works, Gaz,” he says as he looks at Gaz frantically trying to get it back. “Gaz, hey,” Price says as he tries to get him to look at him. “Kyle!” He yells and Gaz’s shoulders slump.

“Gaz, you got it to work. We’ve had it for weeks now without a single peep but you got it to work. That’s all that matters.” Cupping the back of Gaz’s head with a light squeeze. “Go help Soap with a perimeter check. Let me see if I can take a crack at it, yeah?” He offers as he knows Gaz needs a break, giving him a tender kiss on the forehead. Gaz’s shoulders relax and he mutters some reluctance before he stands and leaves. Price takes his spot and he rolls his shoulders. The stress of it all weighing just a bit more now that he knows the radio works. It’s gonna plague Gaz for a while and Price needs his head on straight.

“Alright, let’s try it,” Price cracks his knuckles and works on it. Been almost a year since the world went to shit. Last year he was getting Soap and Ghost out of the military base in Las Almas and now he’s somewhere in Texas. They tried to convince Rudy and Ale to get on board with going with them to Fort Sam Houston. The Mexican Colonel was vehemently against leaving Las Almas even Rudy didn’t think it’d be a good idea. Took Soap speaking to them and then finally Ghost putting his two cents in to convince. “Safer in numbers,” He remembers Ghost grunting out only for Ale to argue that he and Rudy are needed with the Los Vaqueros. As he works on the radio, he thinks back on what eventually set them down the path they are in.

————————————————————

“I’m not leaving my men, not after what that cabrón did.” Spitting on the ground as the fire from the tank that Graves was in is still going. It’s been a couple days and there’s already been reports of this disease. At first Price didn’t want to believe it, hell, no one wanted to believe it. Man eating disease? Sounds like something out of a horror novel. “Colonel Vargas, the sooner we get to that Fort the sooner we can bring back whatever cure they have to your men.” Price steps forward, eye level with Vargas, as his arms cross over his chest. Beard crinkling as his lip twitches.

“We need all the help we can get and you and your Sergeant Major would expedite the process of that.” Vargas sighs, his hands on his hips as he turns to Rudy whose been silently listening. They speak fast in Spanish, both have different expressions as they talk it over to each other. Vargas mutter a curse, that one Price can understand, and Rudy then steps forward. “We are needed here. We can’t let Las Almas suffer, this is our home and we will stay. With or without a cure.” Rudy states and Vargas nods in agreement. Price sighs and a faint smile graces his face as Soap clasps a hand on Rudy’s shoulder with a “be safe, hermanos” in his Scottish accent.

Took a days time to gear up and pack the necessary essentials they’d need. The whole world has been put on a pause and no planes go in and out especially when news came around that the President of the United State’s plane had sick people get on board. Secret service is still trying to find the rest of the plane since it nose dived somewhere in Philadelphia. Price only knew about the Fort from Laswell when she gave him a call. She didn’t have much time to speak on the phone before it blacked out with the insistent beep of the call disconnecting. Didn’t matter how many times he tried to call back.

When she last called she sounded out of breath like she’d been running a marathon. Speaking fast with her words, “M’glad you’re safe, John. It’s been hell here.” Shots firing in the background as he can hear screams, “Place is a lil crowded for me right now but listen!” She pants as sends him the information to his phone with shaky hands. “Fort Sam Houston is researching and performing experiments for a cure. Get there and keep the scientist safe. Fuck!” She curses as she now sounds far away. Someone is shooting again. He calls her name urgently but the phone disconnects as he punches the wall with a yell.

That phone call was 2 days ago. Soap still tried to convince Ale and Rudy but they held firm to their decision. The most Colonel Vargas could do was gift them a military vehicle and a decent number of guns, supplies, and preserves. A month. Should just take a week to get up there anyways. Provide protection for the scientists. Once they’ve made a cure then they can head back and then everything will hopefully go back to normal. That should be enough time to get up to the base and back. If everything goes smoothly that is.

Even though Price wanted to believe it even back then he knew that it would take more than a miracle for this to actually work but… He trusted Laswell, trusted her judgment with these things. He just wishes he could hear her speak again. He knows she’s resourceful, she’s probably with her wife right now hunkered down somewhere safe… hopefully.

“Are we ready?” Gaz calls out as Ghost loads up the last bag. Vargas was overseeing the load out to make sure they had everything for their mission, he even triple checked for them. Few sightings of the sick people have been roaming the streets. Mexico City is going dark as they get ready to head out as they speak. The Mexican military is deploying every able-bodied soldier at the moment and yet it isn’t enough. Too many have gone radio silent. Vargas and some of the Los Vaqueros plan on scouting there to see what’s going on as soon as the 141 leave. “Let’s load up!” Vargas yells as he hands Price a couple CD’s for the music player. Vargas may or may not have had that installed when he was tinkering with the vehicle weeks ago…

“Figured you Brit’s—,” a quick Oi from Soap, “AND Scot,” an amused glint in his eyes as he winks, “would prefer if I left some CD’s, si? Gives Soap enough time to work on his Spanish.” A Cheshire grin on the man as he leans an elbow against the door.

“Fine by me, s’long as Ghost ain’t driving and Soap can fix up on his Spanish,” Gaz remarks and Ghost levels him with a glare. “Gonna tell me I’m wrong, Ghost? Soap told me how you drove getting out of Las Almas.”

“My bad, next time I’ll put my blinker on,” Ghost grunts out sarcastically as Soap clasps a hand on Ghost shoulder with a belch of a laugh. Bantering back and forth as Price and Gaz sit in the front. Gaz acting as the map since the wifi has been acting stranger and stranger. A wave goodbye from the Colonel and the Sergeant Major as they drive off. A month. That’s all they’ll need and it’ll go back to normal.

The days quickly turned into months. Barely crossing the border of Mexico into the US it started becoming one shit show after another. Far too many close calls that definitely made Price age more than he already is. The main roads were clogged with people trying to get in and out of of major cities. It was madness, the people were everywhere. Screams and yelling as people tried surviving. Rudy kept talking with the men from where he was in Las Almas. Their radio working pretty well considering the long distance. Rudy and Ale would talk and give regular updates day in and day out until it stopped. Soap tried everything to get the radio working, thinking that the wires were crossed or something but… to no avail. They couldn’t even turn back considering how far they were, all they could do is push forward.

Ghost and Soap went through a rough patch, arguments and spitting curses in left and right. Ghost saying that they shouldn’t go back because “choices have consequences” only for Soap to angrily disagree. It took Gaz stepping in to act as a buffer while Price had to put his foot down on the matter.

“We can’t go back. We gotta keep moving, Johnny.” A sad look on Price as he places a hand on the Scott’s shoulder. He’s knows Johnny will take the blame and guilt himself into thinking it’s his fault for not convincing Ale and Rudy better. Didn’t help that when they stayed at an apartment complex someone stole their vehicle when they got pass Laredo, Texas. At least they had the weapons and supplies that Ale gave them in the apartment they’re hunkering down in, small mercies.

Derailing most of the plan and making tensions so high that Ghost could’ve cut it with one of his knives. It got even worse when Gaz couldn’t contact his mother anymore, barely a month in as the group walked more on foot from place to place. Gaz shut off completely for a week, not even Soap could ease him out of it. Took Ghost sitting next to Gaz on a warm night in an abandoned gas station for Gaz to finally cry it out. Ghost, never being one for soft words, held Gaz close to him, not saying a word but just being a comforting embrace for Gaz to fall into.

When they finally got a car it went a little smoother, Price scouted it at a JoeVs. He won’t talk about how he knows how to hotwire a car much to everyone’s annoyance and amusement. Soap was able to get a few phone calls from his family until it just stopped coming altogether. Phone calls making a “We’re sorry, the person you have dialed is not able to come to the…” Soap could only hear it so many times before he threw his phone against the wall causing it to crack and break.

Soap leaned more on Gaz for help since he understands more about it. A silent comfort that they had each other to work through it. Ghost took on more of the load since he knew that Price couldn’t carry all the weight. Especially since their Sergeants were going through it emotionally. Ghost’s only family was the men in the car so he didn’t have much to worry or cry about. Price was an only kid and with parents already in the grave. They really only had each other to lean into, all of them did.

The team went through a list of names to call the sick during the quiet nights they had. It all came down to a vote for “Z-Fuckers” since it was funnier hearing Soap call’em that in his Scottish accent.

“Z-Fuckers!” Soap said it experimentally and Gaz has to cover his mouth as he nearly choked on some beans. Ghost having to aggressively pat his back as even he started laughing. Price tried to be stern about being quiet but even he gave into it when Soap kept saying it. A lil calm in their storm, for once the night feels normal.

“It’s like that Romero movie, m’serious Gaz.” Soap grins as they sit next to each other in an office building they’re hiding in. The other in different spots of the room as they chatter back and forth like it’s a normal 141 mission. The Z-fuckers, as Soap so lovingly calls them, are outside on the streets. Moaning and groaning as they search for something breathing and living to sink their nasty teeth into. As they were looking for a place to stay earlier, Ghost narrowly got bit when he pulled Price back from the exit only for Price to punch the shit out of the dead woman making her stumble. Gaz was quicker with stabbing her in the head and then the zombie went limp.

When they finally settled for the night Soap spoke up again to Gaz and then to the rest of the group. “It’s the brains. I dinnae think it’d be but it is.” Soap says outloud and Ghost agreed to it, “Aim for the head.” Become the motto of the group.

Took 5 months in total, a few near misses, a couple of shit shows after the other, and finally they’ve made it to Fort Sam Houston.

“Jesus Christ.” Gaz whistles out as he looks on the binoculars. “Sore sight that’s for damn sure.” Soap makes a grabby hand motion and Gaz obliges him. Blue eyes widening as he looks to Price.

“You’re out ya damn mind if ya think anyones livin.” It’s definitely not a pretty sight. Too many deads, blood smeared on the outside walls of the building. Body parts on the ground. “Pretty sure that’s guts on a car…” Like a horror show from the looks of it. Especially with the broken glass and some of the cars in the parking lot being overturned.

Arms crossed and jacket pulled tight as Price levels him with a look. “We’ve a mission, Sunshine. Don’t tell me you’re nervous.” Soap snorts and keeps looking through the binoculars. “Ghost, you see anything?” Turning to look up as Ghost is laying on a rundown car. His rifle in hand as he looks through the scope. His eyes flickering as he searches and looks for movement.

Price tilts his head expectantly, and finally Ghost speaks, “I see lot of z-fuckers roamin. There’s movement in the building, too fast for a Z so it’s possible but I can’t get a clear view.” The older man nods and rolls his shoulders.

“Alright, let’s gear up.” A circle movement of the arm as he’s as satisfied as he can be with that answer. Not like they have a choice anyways.

They, thankfully, still have their comms and good enough gear on hand. It’s not the best and Price would’ve definitely lectured all of them if they were on a mission, but beggars can’t be choosers. “Soap and I will take the first. You two will take second. Comm for assistance.” His voice naturally moving into the tone that’s been honed over the years as Captain. “Don’t get hurt and don’t get killed.” He pats on Gaz’s chest since he’s the closest. “Don’t become a meal either.” Simple enough as is. Get in, find the scientists, and get out. Pretty clear cut. What could go wrong?

“Price you’re gonna have to think of something! Gaz and I are about to get cornered!” Ghost yells into the comm as he quickly tries to find a room to try and hide him and Gaz in.

Ghost slams against the door and throws Gaz inside. Shutting it quickly as the screech of a dead alerts more to where they are. “Fuck,” Ghost curses as he grabs whatever is heavy enough and barricades the door. The wood of the door being slammed against by the mindless drone of the zombies. He pants hard as presses a hand on the back of his head. His fingers flexing against his mask. His mind working overtime to think of a way out for the both of them.

His eyes searching for an exit as he spots a closet and windows. “Can’t break it. Might be more out there..” muttering as he taps once and then twice on his comms but it’s no use. He slammed too hard against the door, it probably messed with his comms somehow. At least they’re on the first floor. Far too many zombies on second that they had to turn back. Tapping the back of his head with his fist as he thinks of a strategy.

He pauses as he hears anxious muttering. Turning his head a lil he notices his Sergeant gripping his head. He takes a step closer, worried when he finally hears what Gaz is saying,” We’re not gonna make it.” Gaz repeats it again and again.

“Gaz” he says softly, trying to get his attention.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” He’s spiraling as he tries to breath. Tries to keep calm, he’s been trained for torture, trained to handle the extreme but this is different. It’s a hopeless feeling being trapped in a room with no way out. He lost his gun when he tripped down the stairs. Ghost probably only has a clip left. It’s hopeless.

“Garrick listen to m-“

“I didn’t get to say goodbye to John or Johnny.” His hands shake as he tries and tries to breath. To calm down but he can’t focus. His ankle hurts, it’s definitely sprained from when he fell down the stairs. He didn’t mean to fall but a crippled zombie reached its hand through the bars of the rail and grabbed him. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Ghost so… scared when he called his name out as he killed the zombie when it crawled on him.

“Kyle!”

His name being yelled is what pulls Kyle out of his spiral. The shuffling of fabric is heard as Kyle breaths in and out. The throb of his ankle momentarily fading as he turns and looks at Ghost. His eyes widen as Ghost isn’t wearing his mask anymore. It’s clenched in his gloved hand as he comes to Kyle.

“You’re not gonna die. Its not gonna happen.” Ghost says it so sternly, so assuredly that Kyle stammers a response back.

“There’s too many outside the door. They’re clawing to get in, Gh-“

“Simon.”

“W-what?”

“Want you to call me, Simon.” The bigger man says as he steps closer. His gloved hand reaching out and cupping his face as Kyle looks dumbfounded and confused. His breath hitching as he stares into Gho- no Simon’s eyes. Lost in thought as he looks at every crease, every little scar that Simon has. Has he always had such pretty brown eyes? “You’re gonna hide in the closet and I’ll give’em something to chew on.” He murmurs softly.

Something to chew on? What does that mean? Wait… he can’t possibly be meaning what he thinks he’s meaning. That makes him tense as he shakes his head. “No, no-“

“Kyle,” he starts but he gets cut off fast.

“No! I’m not… I can’t just… no!” He steps back but Simons hand grips him a bit harder. Months ago he wouldn’t even think about yelling back to him but he doesn’t care. He’s not going to let Simon die. Not because of him. A battle of wills while the zombies growl outside the door.

“I love you.”

Kyles shoulders slack, his mouth parted slightly as his heart pounds from adrenaline and fear. Eyes glassing over as he says, “y-you what?”

“I know it’s taking me a while to say it. I’m sorry but I do. I love you” Simon looks down as he says it, like it’s a secret that wasn’t supposed to be said but also a yearning to be spoken about. “I’ve lost a lot. I’ve buried too many.” He laughs sadly, “Maybe Johnny was right that I’d need to be put in these types of situations to say it.”

“But Johnny, you love Johnny.”

“I do. Figured it out in Las Almas. Doesn’t mean that I don’t feel for you or… John.” Slowly pressing his forehead to Gaz. Ignoring the pounding hands of the dead on the door that could break at any minute if it wasn’t for the desks in front of it. Simon looks at Gaz like he’s the only thing here. The only important thing in this room right here and now. “The dead outside this door isn’t gonna stop me from protecting what’s mine.”

“We can both hide. We can…” he tries to offer, tries to think through the emotions bubbling up in his chest.

“Kyle, you’ve a brilliant mind. Best on par with John but you know as well as I that the dead won’t stop till they have something to sink their teeth into.”

“No, no you can’t just confess. You can’t just tell me you love me and then die!” He yells and something fierce is in Gaz’s eyes. “You don’t get to leave.” Hands reaching out and grips the collar of Simon’s shirt. The one that Johnny got for him when they were running through a Walmart. A determined look in his eyes and something even more as he glares at his Lieutenant, his Simon, his.

Planting his feet as he ignores the pain in his sprain. “You don’t get to die on me Simon Riley. Not now. Not ever.” Leaning up and kissing him as Simon’s eyes widen. Shaken up as he clearly wasn’t expecting Kyle to kiss him or even reciprocate it. Maybe he also needed to be put in this situation to realize it as well that he loves Simon too.

“Dead’s be damned,” he breathes out as he knocks his forehead to Simon’s. “Our guys will get us. You know they will, don’t try and die on me.” Nose brushing against each other. The cracking of the wooden door pulls them out of the moment. Simon stepping in front of Gaz fast as he widens his stance and grabs his gun. The barricade in front of the door won’t last long. Simon eyes the closet door and then behind him to Gaz.

“I have a clip left. I ca-“ a loud sound outside makes the building shake and he can think of only one person that would make such a loud noise. Just as he’s about to laugh about the odds of who it is. A buzzing noise on Gaz’s comm comes to life as Johnny is speaking hurriedly, like he’s running. Telling them that he and Price are making noise on the east side of the building and to head towards the exit.

“Come on, Kyle,” He places his mask in his pocket, moving the barricade from the door away. Quickly surveying the hallway before he moves and hauls Gaz’s arm over his shoulder. “Our guys got us after all, huh?” His other hand gripping his gun as he keeps a constant watch. Determined to not let anything harm the two of them.

“Was there ever any doubt?” Kyle grunts out when some of his weight is on his sprained ankle. Ghost noticing as he nearly lifts him off the floor as his hand grips at his waist. Shouldering the weight of Gaz as they get out.

“Maybe a lil,” he grins and Kyle finds that he likes the way Simon grins. All teeth in it as he helps him out. Price is already providing cover fire as soon as they both make it to the exit. Soap coming around and helping Gaz so they can get away faster. The building becomes a distant dot and blur of a memory months later, maybe even a laugh at the odds and luck that Gaz has.

————————————————————

Back to the present day as Price smiles softly while working on the radio. From that point on everyone’s been closer, nearly losing Gaz and Ghost was a wakeup call that they all desperately needed. They’ve had near misses but never like that. Never to the point where it felt like the end. Now no one goes anywhere without letting the group know and they have to have a buddy with them at all times. It’s typically; Price and Gaz. Ghost and Soap. Sometimes they’ll switch up but they’re always communicating. Hell, there communicating better than when they did when they were on mission.

Bzzzz… Crchhhh “-nally saw a deer again. That was nice. Last one I saw had bite marks on it. Really, really, hope it was a dog and not a dead fucker.” The mystery woman chuckles, and Price can’t believe his luck. He calls hurriedly to the other men to come over as the woman keeps speaking. “Would kill for a burger from Whataburger, you think they’ll have the ingredients there? Man o man-“

“The radios working?“ Ghost says, stunned that it’s actually working. The radio keeps going as the woman keeps talking unaware of her listeners. “Gaz and you finally got it to work. Guess I can stop railing on Soap for grabbing it.”

“Knew it’d work, ya just dinnae believe me, Si.” Elbowing the big man as Soap steps closer, “Sounds like pretty lil ‘o bird. Gonna speak back, Captain?” Soap inquired as Price holds his finger over the button to speak. For once Price feels… nervous. The first human voice in nearly a year and he’s unsure about it. The number of pros and cons already playing out in his head.

“It might scare her off.” He moves his finger away as they listen to her speak about something that sounds mundane but is everything to the men in the room. It feels normal. “Let’s wait it out a bit. See where this goes. Don’t speak on the radio unless necessary, got it?” Price orders and they all agree. As much as Price wants to speak to the lady… he also wants to protect his men and keep them safe. Who knows who she is or if she’s even alone? The risks outweighs the benefits of a potential alliance for now.

Listening to her on the radio has slowly become a part of their routine. Sometimes in the morning or afternoon she’ll speak. Talk about her day, what she had to eat, commenting on her place of choice for the night, etc. The men would huddle around the radio so they could hear her and her “Talkshows” as they’d call it. Some of them wonder what she’d look like, what she’d sound like in person, how old she was, Soap even placing a bet that she wore glasses while Gaz placed a bet that she didn’t. It became part of their routine to check the radio everyday for her voice until one day…. She went silent.

She didn’t say anything in the morning and then the afternoon rolled by and no response. “We need to reach out and talk to’er.” Gaz said almost insistently when the second day rolled around and still no voice from her. The feeling that she could be a dead becoming ever present on their minds. Price holds the radio in hand, a crease of his brows as he thinks it over.

“Lemme speak to’er, doubt she’ll be spooked if she hears a ‘funny’ accent, yeah? Might make’er talk a bit since I sound like Shrek.” Soap says and holds his hand out. Price takes a second before handing it to him. An encouraging nod from him as Soap breaths in and says, “This is Sergeant Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Taskforce 141 operative. I’m trying to get in touch with the woman that regularly speaks on this line.” different murmurs from the men as they hope and beg that their lady is around to hear them.

Bzzzz… crchhhhh… He tries again, a worried feeling creeping up in his chest. His words more insistent. “This is Sergeant Johnny “Soap” MacT-“

“H-Hello?” She says softly. A nervousness in her voice and the men all sigh in relief.

“You had us worried, Bonnie.” Soap says as he breaths out a low sigh. His hand unclenching since he had it balled from how nervous he was feeling.

“Us?”

Their eyes widen as they hear the fear in her voice. A curse from Ghost as Soap scrambles to speak, “Me and some of my group have been listening to your talks. We… We just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” The silence on the other radio is deafening and they all suck in a breath. Soap tries to coax some words out of her but to no avail.

She didn’t speak on the line anymore, but they held out hope. Johnny and Kyle started taking turns speaking on the line, talking about their day as the 141 sat around waiting for her to say something back. They were about to give up since a couple weeks go by with no response. And then finally, the static on the other side comes to life.

“… Hi,” the radio crinkles and buzzes with a soft noise, “I’m not going to give you my name or location but I..” the radio shorts out and the men wait on bated breath for her to speak again. “But I want to talk. I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to speak to you.”

“We’re here, Sunshine,” Gaz says softly as he takes the radio, “This is Kyle, do you remember me? I’d’ve spoken more to you whenever, Johnny,” glaring lightheartedly at the Scot, “would stop hogging the radio.” He chuckles softly. “We’re glad that you’ve decided to speak again. We want to talk to you as well, if you’ll let us.”

“I want to talk but… don’t tell me your name anymore, please.”

“…Alright,” he murmurs softly, “we won’t say our names anymore.” The men in the room all look confused about her request but they don’t say anything else about it to keep her talking. “Call me whatever you’d like, Sunshine.”

———

TAGLIST TWWK: @wrathofcats

#the world we knew #TWWK #simon ghost riley #johnny mactavish #kyle garrick #john price #poly 141 #poly141 x reader #cannon typical violence #zombie #minor deaths #Simon was definitely gonna knock Kyle out and forcibly put him in the closet #guns #blood #call of duty #zombie au #Simon took off his mask because he wanted to die as Simon not Ghost #a slight bit of angst #a slight bit of happy sappy stuff

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laeorinel · 1 year

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FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 27 - Sole

Another day of struggle writing done.

Shadowbringers spoilers aplenty.

As Samara lurked around the upper walkways of the Crystarium, she occasionally glanced down at the people below. There was an excited buzz in the air; word had spread of the night sky returning to yet another area of Norvrandt. It had been a while since she had seen The Wandering Stairs so busy. Drinks flowed freely, and she would not be surprised if the partying continued all through the night. She would spot her fellow Scions every so often, darting through the crowds to either get their own drinks and join in with the revelry or moving onto somewhere else.

She spotted Ryne off to the side with Thancred. While it was hard to make out all too much from the distance from what she could tell from their body language, both of them were at peace and, for once, looked comfortable in each other's company. She did not miss, however, the occasional glance from one or both of them in her direction.

A part of her wanted to join them, but it was safer for her to keep a distance. She did not want to worry them further, especially now that hiding the changes the Light was causing was becoming more complicated. She knew Ryne would offer to share the burden of being the host to the Lightwardens aether. She would not let that happen.

No, this was how it had to be. She had the sole responsibility of keeping the Light at bay. She would not condemn the young woman who had only just carved out a name and place for herself to this fate. Nor would she condemn the man so dear to her to lose another one he loved. If her life was the price that needed to be paid to save this world from destruction, then so be it, but that did not mean they needed to see every moment of her decline.

The physical changes were becoming harder to disguise. Her hair was becoming more brittle and paler as the days went on. At first, it was just a few stray hairs tinged a horrid pale bright yellow; now, most of her hair was tinted white at the root. She could easily cover it up with various dyes, but the changes to her eyes and scales were harder to conceal. She doubted the others had not noticed the changes in her attire, with every shred of scale and skin hidden beneath cloth, leather and metal. Her eyes she could do little about.

Still, the external changes paled in comparison to the ones happening inside. She was partly keeping herself separate from everyone else because she could feel herself coming undone at the seams. Her emotions were harder to keep in check, and her already tempestuous anger was always a hair's breadth away from being unleashed on anyone for even the most minor of things. Then there was the paranoia. The First had changed her friends; how could it not? Regardless, she still trusted them. Or did. Now, there were moments when she questioned their motives and wondered if they were friend or foe. On more than one occasion, she had found herself reaching for a weapon, ready and willing to fight any or all of them. It was a feral state of mind she had not felt in years, and to say it unnerved her was an understatement.

Then there was the hunger. She would need to go out hunting again soon. It was easier to hide the increase in her appetite that way, though she imagined sooner or later someone would come across the string of animal corpses felled across Lakeland or catch her mid-hunt or feast. That is assuming none were aware already. She knew the Exarch had a means of keeping an eye on her. Not to mention, a certain ghost was never too far away.

"Yet again, I find you alone. Want some company?" as if one cue said ghost made his appearance. Ardbert made his way over to Samara, taking his place by her side at the railing.

"Are you saying that more for my sake or yours?" Samara did not take her eyes off the crowds below as she spoke.

"Does it matter? How are you feeling? You're looking a little pale."

Samara sighed, leaning heavily against the railing and staring vaguely toward Thancred and Ryne. "Before, when I thought of the Light, I thought of the sun, a force that nourishes life but could also snuff it out in an instant of fire and flame. Compassion and fury in equal measure. I was wrong. It is cold and unyielding. I feel like I am in the middle of a snowstorm, the cold robbing me of my senses with each passing moment until nothing is left but the still of winter."

"Not good then. I assume you know what is happening?"

"That I am becoming a Sin eater, or that I am dying?" Samara idly picked at a patch of off-colour scales. She tried to not dwell on it, even if they were starting to turn a discomforting shade of gold.

The question went unanswered, with Ardbert quickly changing the topic. "What will you do?"

"Keep fighting for as long as I can. Pray whatever scheme the Exarch has in mind works, and if not…take matters into my own hands."

"What the hells does that mean?"

"If I fall to the Light, both this world and the Source are doomed to calamity. However, the calamity the Ascians wish to bring about can only happen if I, or something harbouring this damn Light, exists."

"So you would return to the Source before you turn. You realise that could cause what is happening here to repeat there. The aether would pass onto another, and then two worlds would be full of Sin eaters."

"Unless the aether was destroyed or absorbed in a single moment." her gaze turned up to the night sky. She knew it was not Nhamma up in the inky black sky, but it was a comfort all the same.

"On the Source, the land I hail from is known as the Azim Steppe. There is a sacred place up in the mountains known as the House of the Crooked Coin. Inside, you can find a fragment of the Dusk Mother, Nhamma, one of my people's deities. People from Tribes all over the steppe travel there when…when everything becomes too much. We throw ourselves at Mother Nhamma's mercy. Literally. Everything a person is, was, or could ever be is destroyed."

"That's your plan? Suicide?"

"What other choice is there? I either live and am freed of this burden or become the doom of this world and everyone on it. I refuse to let the latter happen. Not if I have a way of stopping it."

"Except you don't! You have no way of knowing if your plan will work."

"It is better than the alternative. What sounds better? Guaranteed destruction or the faint hope of averting it? I'm dead either way."

"I just don't want to take everyone down with me…"

#ffxiv fanfiction #ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv write 2023

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childabusesurvivor · 2 years

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True Self-Care Is More Difficult Than We Make it Out to Be

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True Self-Care Is More Difficult Than We Make it Out to Be

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The recent issue of Anne Helen Petersen’s Culture Study is an interview with the author of Real Self Care (Affiliate Link), Dr. Pooja Lakshmin.

The topic, if I may be so bold as to try and describe it in a short sentence or two, is how there is an entire self-care industry that sells us more “things,” bath bombs, massage, wellness apps and retreats, designed to tick off the “self-care” box on our to-do list that never get to the root of the problem because the probles is systemic.

To quote Dr. Lakshmin from the interview:

And, going further, real self-care is an internal decision making process that can be layered into everything you do. As opposed to thinking of it as carving out self-care for a 15 minute pocket of the day, self-care needs to be threaded through the way we make decisions and design our lives.

There are several important reminders in the article about how a good walk in nature won’t solve for the 30 million Americans who don’t have health insurance or that 25% of Americans can’t take a day off with pay. That option isn’t available to them. Let alone the millions of people who can’t afford a massage, or who must work multiple jobs to afford housing where they live or single parents who struggle with having available childcare to work in the first place. Telling these people to take a relaxing bath isn’t solving anything.

I talk about this in the context of work often. A company culture that demans 60 hours of work per week but also says they encourage employee work-life balance doesn’t value work-life balance. They’ve made it another thing for the employee to be responsible for. Employers who offer PTO but see no problems with calling people on PTO or simply piling up work until they return are punishing people who take time off. This week, for example, Monday, was a company holiday. Tuesday was a day I chose to take off because it’s a state holiday where I live, MArdi Gras, even though I work remotely for a company that does not close for the day. That leaves me with a three day week. In many organizations, I would be expected to fit five days of productivity into those three days. For example, law firms often have a billable hour requirement per month. (Lawyers, and some staff members should be billing “x” number of hours per week/month/year.) Taking a day off means having to make up those hours somewhere. It’s a disincentive to self-care, even as those same firms will encourage people to use their PTO.

But, even in those situations, I have to acknowledge how privileged they are because many jobs in the US don’t have any of that, and many people wind up using their PTO not on self-care but child and elder care.

As much as I can talk about the benefits of taking a break, doing something nice for yourself, or having a hobby, we all need to acknowledge where self-care involves much harder life decisions. Yes, I do have a massage therapist that I see regularly and she is excellent at helping treat symptoms of my stress and anxiety. I can talk about that. I also need to talk more about the times I’ve made significant life changes as a form of self-help. Changes like leaving a job that was bad for my mental health, moving across the country, disconnecting myself from certain relationships, and having difficult conversations with people.

We also need to talk about how to change the systems that make it impossbile for other people to make those same kinds of decisions. We need to talk about the fact that no amount of self-care will make the world non-racist. There’s no self-care that women can do that will make the world safer for them, and no time spent relaxing will eliminate hatred towards LGBTQ people. Neuro-divergent people, those with disabilities, and countless other groups don’t have fair access to make an income. An extra hour of sleep isn’t going to fix that.

Yes, I believe in the importance of self-care. I will encourage it for everyone. It helps. But it can only help so much. Until this becomes a society that equally cares about everyone and actively seeks to offer care for everyone, self-care can only go so far. We need to recognize that and spend as much time promoting that as we do self-care.

Go back and read the entire interview.

#Insurance, #LGBTQ, #MentalHealth, #Nature, #SelfCare, #Stress

#Insurance #LGBTQ #Mental Health #Nature #Self Care #Stress

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cherryagency · 6 years

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Technology Trends for Construction Companies

It can be challenging to differentiate in the wide ecosystem of the construction industry. Within each subset of engineering, design-build firms, or specified products – there are tremendous similarities in each category. One of the most effective ways of overcoming this “sea of sameness” is to consider the problems of tomorrow that you will be solving. Your ability to demonstrate your capacity to solve new problems and incorporate new technologies can set you apart as a potential partner with the capacity for innovative thinking and experience to bring new ideas to any project.

According to Research and Markets, the global construction industry is expected to reach an estimated $10.5 trillion by 2023, and it is forecasted to grow at a CAGR of 4.2% from 2018 to 2023, at this pace pen, paper, and traditional spreadsheets are quickly becoming less common as they tend to be less cost-effective and efficient. We speak to construction companies often and the need for innovation and thought leadership in this space is paramount. Increasing urbanization and a growing population both ensure that the outlook for global construction industries is good and these six technology trends for construction companies are on the rise!

Use of Drones in Construction

One of the latest innovations in construction is the use of drones for aerial inspections and data collection. 26 percent of SMB construction professionals are either using them already or plan to use them by 2020.

Additionally, surveying can take up to a month to complete a detailed survey of the construction site. Self-flying drones can ensure that the same work gets done in minutes, saving time and physical labor costs.

Virtual Augmented Reality

Virtual and augmented reality have been going strong across a variety of industries. It makes sense that they are showing up as future trends in construction. It allows for improved collaboration, 3-D modeling, and even increasing worker safety. However, the cost is still considerably high, making it prohibitive for many construction companies. Surveys have shown that many construction companies are interested in using it in the next several years once the cost comes down a bit.

Wearable Technology

One exciting new construction technology is wearable technology. For 2018, we feel this is an experiment well worth trying out! Even some professional football teams are utilizing wearables as the most advanced and efficient form of communication with the coach. Various forms of wearable technology are being used in the construction industry, primarily for safety. This includes being able to detect a fall as well as balance issues. It can also help to improve communication between workers who are on site with the managers who may be in a corporate building somewhere else.

Robotics

There is a lot going on in the world of robotics happening, making it one of the 2018 trends to be looking for. While the robotics industry has a long way to go, they’re capable of introducing a cheaper, faster, and safer way to work on a construction site. There are already quite a few examples of robotics in the construction field, including masonry construction robots and self-driven vehicles. By using these, it boosts productivity across the construction site because you can use skilled labor for what they are good at as opposed to the menial tasks that they may have to deal with throughout the day.

3D Printers and Scanners

3D printers are one of the trends that more and more construction professionals are taking advantage of. The cost of implementation is considerably lower than it has been in the past. Only approximately 4% of contractors are using the technology, showing that there still is a significant amount of room to grow. 3-D printers can be used to create models for selling a home or building before the construction is done. It can also be used for creating templates on site for workers to use for consistency.

Cloud-Based Construction and Management Software

Construction and management software are future trends in construction. Located in the cloud they offer a number of benefits as well. It is entirely accessible in the field, eliminating the need to be sitting at a desk. The software can provide real-time data and provide detailed data to help with decision-making. It offers construction professionals with a higher level of accountability, efficiency, and transparency. If there are problems, such as low-efficiency rates or budget overruns, using some level of project management software can be the best possible solution.

The software can be used in the field on smartphones and tablets as well as at the office. It’s the beauty of having the software found in the cloud. Plus, the data will be spread across multiple departments, giving you insight into the entire workings of the construction project at hand.

Construction technology trends for 2018 will continue to grow as the need for modern technology in the construction industry continues to grow. With so much technology available, it’s important to know how it can benefit your construction company. Don’t assume that the technology is for another industry. You may be able to create a safer workplace and improve efficiencies on many levels. It simply a matter of knowing how it will help you with growth.

It’s a good idea to calculate your growth building score before you begin investing in a strategy. You can identify and prioritize the profit opportunities that exist for your business.

How do you measure up?

If you’re interested in how to better leverage innovation trends in your industry, one of the best ways to start is by determining your Growth Score.

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#IFTTT #WordPress

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