#;typhoon isle

[larryshapiro]

Emerald Isle, NC - Engine 2

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 2: I’m The Son Of Rage And Love]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Jesus Of Suburbia” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.2k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

On the shores of the Susquehanna River, just north of Harrisburg, you find a Wawa with no gas: bags on all the pumps, cars with their fuel caps unscrewed and dangling. This is a common courtesy adopted en masse, like rationing during the World Wars or flying American flags after 9/11. It signals that a car has already been siphoned, no gasoline to be found here, no transparent flammable gold made of eons-past decomposition. You wonder if in a few million years, some unfathomable new apex species will be drilling your liquefied remains from the lightless layers of the earth to power their spaceships.

“Then we got sent to Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling,” Rio continues, gnawing on a piece of beef jerky, Jack Link’s in a red bag, teriyaki. Mercifully, whoever took the gas left some of the food. You are sitting in the parking lot, a quaint zombie apocalypse picnic, trail mix and Rice Krispies Treats, Herr’s potato chips and Tastykakes, warm soda sipped from plastic bottles. Luke and Rhaena are on the roof of the Tahoe. Jace is tearing the convenience store apart; he is convinced the employees must have kept a gun somewhere in case of robberies. You know he’s fine. You can hear him banging around and swearing in there.

“Then we built some schools and a hospital in Djibouti,” you say.

Aegon is baffled yet intrigued. “Djibouti…?”

“It’s on the Horn of Africa, near Ethiopia and Somalia.”

Luke snorts. “It’s nice of you to assume he knows where Africa is.”

“Huh.” Aegon tosses a green M&M into his mouth. “Djibouti is horny.”

Rio says: “And after that we spent like six months in Key West, and then we got shipped to Corpus Christi, where Chips very narrowly avoided getting impregnated by, marrying, and inevitably acrimoniously divorcing a Marine.”

Everyone laughs except Aemond, who gives you a teasing smirk. “Did you really?”

“Uh, no. He asked me out, I ghosted him, that’s as far as it went.”

“Why’d you ghost him?” Baela says, crunching on Utz Cheese Balls.

Aegon turns to Rio. “You want a Honey Bun?”

“You’re my Honey Bun,” Rio replies. Aegon smiles, his sunburn flushing darker.

You shrug, eat a handful of candied almonds, tell a half-truth. “I just didn’t like him enough.”

Rhaena yelps and points: a snake, black and maybe five feet long, is slithering across the parking lot. It passes beneath the shade of the Tahoe and then continues towards the bushes. A moderate amount of panic erupts.

Helaena glances up from her notebook. “Rat snake. Not venomous.”

Rhaena shudders. “Well, I still don’t like it.”

“Where were you stationed next?” Daeron asks Rio.

“Chinhae, South Korea. Wicked cool place. The people love Americans, the food is incredible. We were there to rebuild a pier that got wrecked in a typhoon. They have these cute dolphin-looking things, they’d swim right up to the edge of the water with fish in their mouths to try to give to us. Like cats bringing home mice for their owners.”

“Finless porpoises,” you say.

“Yeah, those. And after Korea, it was Diego Garcia.”

“Diego…what?” Rhaena says.

Aegon turns to Luke. “Try to act like I’m stupid for not knowing where that is.”

“Diego Garcia is a tiny little island in the middle of the Indian Ocean,” you say, a bit wistfully. “It’s technically owned by the British, but we share a base there, we use it for airfields and to refuel submarines, things like that. We were renovating the housing facilities for Camp Thunder Cove. At night we’d go to the beach, have a few beers, look out into the ocean and it was just…nothing. Wide open dark nothingness for as far as you could imagine.”

“That’s what we need now,” Helaena murmurs as she makes elegant cursive annotations in her notebook, the cover picturing different species of spiders, a pinktoe tarantula, a green lynx spider, a black widow. “Someplace to go where no one will find us.”

“So you’ve known each other since basic training.” Aemond’s remaining blue eye shifts between you and Rio, like he’s still trying to puzzle it out. There’s really no mystery. You’re friends, and you’ve always been friends, and you’ve never been more than friends, despite many of your fellow seamen’s jokes to the contrary.

You tear open a Slim Jim. Aemond rebandaged your hands this morning, though they barely hurt anymore; he touches you with a clinical, focused restraint. “Not quite that long. Rio enlisted a few months before I did, so we weren’t at Great Lakes together, and then carpenters do technical school in Gulfport, Mississippi near Biloxi, and electricians train at Sheppard Air Force Base in Texas. We met after we were both assigned to Naval Mobile Construction Battalion 1.”

“The First and The Finest,” Rio quotes the motto, grinning. “The original Seabees, founded during World War II. People called our battalion the Pioneers, which…is kind of ironic now.”

Aegon says, munching noisily on trail mix: “It’ll be so appropriate when you end up dying of a broken leg or the flu or in some other totally preventable way.”

“It’s so crazy, people died of anything back then,” Luke marvels gravely. “Tuberculosis, pneumonia, infections, starving, freezing, poisoning, getting kicked by a horse, giving birth…”

Rhaena shoots him a fearsome look and Luke shuts up, but of course he can’t take it back. There is a long uncomfortable silence punctuated only by birdsong and Jace’s muffled outbursts from inside the Wawa. Everyone looks at Baela, concerned, pitying, entirely unable to do anything to improve her situation. She is still eating Cheese Balls with one orange-stained hand, but the other rests on her belly.

“Clearly, the timing is less than ideal,” Baela says after a while, and if she’s terrified she doesn’t sound like it. “It wasn’t planned to begin with, but I was determined to make the best of things. I figured that I could still finish up my master’s degree with a baby, and Rhaena and our parents could help, and Jace would be done with law school soon, and it might be stressful for a while but we’d all get through it. And now…” She shrugs wryly. “Now all those plans are gone. Just gone.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Aemond says; a fierce low determination, a promise, a vow.

Baela smiles at Rio. “How old is your baby?”

He is caught off-guard, clears his throat, averts his gaze. Aegon looks over at him, alarmed. “Oh, he, uh…he’s little. Really little. He…” And Rio, so rarely at a loss for words, can’t continue. He eats his beef jerky instead.

You explain for him. “Sophie’s due date was right around the time the phones and internet went down. The last we heard, she was headed to Odessa to stay with Rio’s parents.” Aemond and his companions nod and don’t say what they’re thinking, but it’s swimming in their eyes: Sophie could have died, the baby could have died, they both could have died, you and Rio might be risking your lives to cross the continental United States for nothing. “Rio’s parents live in this…well, I joke around and call it a doomsday prepper cult, but that’s not really what it is, it’s just a farming community out in the middle of nowhere. People who have their own chickens and gardens, churn their own butter, don’t wear deodorant, make medicine out of tree bark…and a lot of them have kind of a survivalist mentality, they stock pantries and collect guns. So we figure we can reunite Rio with his family and then carve out lives for ourselves in relative peace.”

Rio reaches over to bump his fist against your shoulder. He is grateful. You punch him back, fairly forcefully; it’s like hitting a brick wall. Rio is as tall as Aemond but probably outweighs him by a hundred pounds.

You ask Aemond: “What’s in the Bay Area?”

“Our parents have a beach house. It’s up on a cliff by itself, pretty isolated, and surrounded by state parks. That’s where they were when everything shut down. I assume they’re still there.”

“Beach house?” Rio raises his eyebrows. “On a cliff?”

Rich kids. REALLY rich kids. “Your parents couldn’t just fly you to California in a private jet or something?” you say.

“Our pilots stole the jets,” Aemond replies, not realizing you were joking.

“Oh.”

“Jace and Luke’s parents were home in London, so getting there isn’t really an option, and then Baela and Rhaena…”

“Mum and Dad were on a business trip to Moscow,” Baela says. “I’d like to think they weren’t eaten, but…they were probably eaten.”

“I am so sorry,” you manage awkwardly.

A single zombie goes shuffling past the Wawa on the main street, a woman in a floral church dress, hair falling out of its curls, one pink high heel that clicks on the pavement, blood all over her mouth and chin. She notices the nine of you and begins to hiss, lurching closer. Daeron shoots her down and then trots over to retrieve his arrows, yanking them out of her cheek and eye socket. Rhaena winces. Aemond, distracted, bites into a Nature Valley granola bar. Aegon opens a can of Pringles, pizza-flavored.

Luke is peering through his binoculars, looking south towards Harrisburg. Faintly, you can see sunlight glinting off the gilded statue of a woman—the Spirit of the Commonwealth—that tops the green clay tile dome of the state capitol building. “What is that?”

“The sculpture?” you say.

“No. Farther away. Those big concrete towers, right on the water.”

Now you know exactly what he means…and you’d forgotten all about it. It’s an oversight you hope doesn’t cost too much. “That’s Three Mile Island. And we should leave so we can put more space between it and us.”

“Oh, fuck me…” Rio mutters.

Now everyone else is squinting to see the facility, barely visible from the Wawa. “Why?” Aemond asks you.

“Because it’s a nuclear power plant. And since the electricity is out everywhere, as soon as its backup generators fail, it will melt down and the whole area around it will become radioactive.”

Aegon puts two Pringles into his mouth so they look like a duck bill. “How do you know?”

“Did no one else go through a Chernobyl obsession phase in high school?”

“The professor mentioned it in one of my chemistry classes,” Aemond says, but he sounds doubtful; this must have been years ago, when he was consumed by med school prerequisites and had no space left in his brain for mere curiosity.

“Okay, listen up.” Rio knows the key points; he’s had to study different sources of electrical power. He demonstrates with dramatic hand gestures. “You have super radioactive reactor fuel, usually uranium or plutonium. You have a pool of water around it that circulates continuously. The heat of the fuel evaporates the water, which makes steam, which spins turbines, thus creating power. But if the external electricity fails, the water stops circulating, and the heat vaporizes all of it, and when there’s no more water the reactor fuel overheats and melts through the floor and poisons the earth, air, and groundwater. Any questions?”

There is a chorus of distressed chattering as people swiftly rise to their feet, clutching armfuls of snacks for the road. Jace comes trudging out of the Wawa, conspicuously not in possession of a firearm.

“No luck?” Daeron asks.

“Obviously not.” Then Jace snaps at Aemond: “Why were you stomping around all pissed off in the medicine aisle earlier? What were you looking for?”

“Nothing,” Aemond says quickly.

“Seriously, dude, what was it?”

“Nothing!”

“Damn, Plankton, calm down.” Jace shields his face from the sun, following Luke’s nervous eyeline towards the concrete cooling towers to the south. “What’s that?”

“Three Mile Island,” you say. “And we’re leaving now.”

Aegon yawns loudly. “I’m so full! Rio, can you carry me to the car?” And before anyone can tell Aegon to shut up, Rio has crouched down to let him scramble onto his back. Aegon cackles and waves his can of Pringles around as Rio sprints to the Tahoe. Now there are a few more zombies stumbling up the street, but you don’t waste arrows or bullets on them. Baela runs them down as she swerves out of the parking lot and drives northwest, heading towards Clarks Ferry Bridge where you will cross the Susquehanna River in a less populated area and commence the long slog to the Ohio border. She turns up the volume on the CD player: London Bridge by Fergie. Immediately, Rio, Aegon, Daeron, Rhaena, and Luke are singing along.

Baela checks the fuel gauge and looks at Aemond in the rearview mirror. “We have half a tank left.”

“We’ll find gas somewhere.”

“Aemond, it’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re not going to be able to walk to California.”

Baela can’t think of a response. He’s right. Outside, the miles roll by in a blur of radiant, reptilian, early-summer green.

~~~~~~~~~~

Each time the interstate is blocked by a snarl of crashed vehicles or a backup too thick to navigate through—both common occurrences—Aegon digs the folded map out of his shorts and charts a new course for Baela to follow. This particular divergence might prove fortunate. The Tahoe has rolled into Distant, Pennsylvania, an Appalachian speck of a town, churches, coal mines, dilapidated old sheds. On the outskirts, perched on a hill and surrounded by oak trees, you find a small single-story brick house with a myriad of banners on the flagpole: an American flag, a Confederate flag, a black POW/MIA flag, Don’t Tread On Me, Trump 2024.

“Yeah,” Aegon says, scratching his scruffy chin as he peers up through the windshield. “I feel like they probably owned guns.”

“How do we know they’re not still home?” Baela asks warily.

“No car in the driveway,” Aemond observes. “No windows boarded up. They probably ran into trouble while they were out somewhere and never made it back.” Then he waits, the question upspoken. Are we going to risk it?

“We’re down,” Rio says after exchanging a glance with you.

Aemond turns to Jace. Jace—curly dark hair down to his shoulders, eyes on the house, chewing his full bottom lip apprehensively—doesn’t reply at first.

“You said you wanted a gun, Jace. All the Walmarts are cleaned out. This is what shopping looks like now.”

“Fine. Okay. Let’s go.”

Baela parks the Tahoe in the gravel driveway and tells Rhaena and Luke to stay inside with Helaena until the property has been cleared. The rest of you climb out, afternoon sun and mountain wind, dandelions crushed under your shoes. There’s a barn behind the house, you see now, gaps between the wooden boards and flaking red paint.

Luke is standing up through the open sunroof, inspecting the scene with his binoculars. “No movement.”

“We’ll take the house, if you want,” Rio tells Aemond. You’re clutching your borrowed baseball bat with bandaged hands, though it still feels unnatural; your M9 is in its holster in case of emergencies. Jace, Baela, and Daeron start plodding across the yard towards the barn. The grass is tall and mostly shaded, the oak trees decades old, massive, weaving a patchwork canopy of leaves.

Aegon trots over and slaps Aemond on his left shoulder, his blind side. Aemond says without looking at him: “I’ll go with them. You wait out here.”

Aegon drives an imaginary ball with his golf club. “I’m very sensitive to rejection, you know.”

“You’ll survive.” Then Aemond follows you and Rio to the house.

Rio tries the knob, locked. He doesn’t waste a bullet by trying to shoot the lock off the door, something that is far less reliable than movies would have you believe. He kicks it open instead, three tries and then the screws that secure the latch give way and the door swings ajar. You wait, counting seconds in your head, listening for growls or footsteps. There are no sounds except the breeze sighing through the trees, the warbles and wing flaps of birds. You steal a glimpse of the barn. Jace, Baela, and Daeron have unhooked the rusted iron latch and are venturing inside, Daeron last and glancing around watchfully, his compound bow already drawn. Rio steps into the house.

It’s hot, stifling, all the windows shut. But this has its advantages. You inhale deeply: no trace of decomposition, no black swampy nauseating rot, just dust and lemon Pledge and old-people staleness.

“Smells fine,” Rio says. And then, loudly: “Anyone home? We’re just looking for supplies. We don’t want to hurt you. If anybody is here, just let us know and we’d be happy to leave. And, uh, sorry about the door.”

You stay close to Rio as he sweeps through the living room—floral couch, television turned off, crosses on the walls—and then the kitchen, where bananas are turning black on the counter. Aemond is to your right; he’s placed you on his blind side. He trusts me, you think. When did that happen? You haven’t heard anything from Aegon or the barn. That must be going well.

In the bedroom, Aemond pulls the curtains open to let some light in. You search the drawers, the closet, under the bed. No weapons. The bathroom has 1950s-style pink porcelain, the dining room table is set for a meal that never happened. There is a deer head mounted on the wall, ten points, not bad.

“I can’t believe these fuckers didn’t have guns,” Rio says. “But where the hell are they?!”

You have always watched more than you’ve spoken. That’s why you’re good at shooting things, and why you’re still alive. Rio talks and you listen; Rio acts and you reflect. “Wait.” You turn to Aemond. “Did you see a cellar outside?”

“A what?” He is perplexed. “Like…a wine cellar…?”

“No. A regular cellar.” You walk back into the midday heat and circle the house, Aemond and Rio hurrying to keep up. Over by the barn, everyone else is stretched out across the grass, joking, relaxing, Baela with her hammer on the ground and her hands laced over her belly, Helaena cradling a praying mantis in her palms and showing it to Rhaena. Aegon is teaching Luke how to smoke with a pack of Marlboro Golds he found at the Wawa. Luke, game yet somewhat anxious, takes a puff and then immediately coughs until he starts retching.

“I want to try too,” Daeron says.

Aegon shakes his head, taking a nonchalant drag off his own cigarette. “Nope. Not for you. Illegal. You’re under eighteen.”

“I want to try!”

“Shut up, you can’t even vote.”

“Nobody can vote, the government has collapsed!”

You find it at the back of the house: a pair of large metal doors leading down into the underground cellar. The weeds have begun to encroach on them, wild violets and black nightshade.

“Awesome!” Rio says, lifting the doors open one at a time, the hinges shrieking. They’re heavy, but they cause him no trouble. Underneath is a staircase and a room dark with shadows; you can see a light switch that won’t work, the electricity long gone. Rio unclips the flashlight from his  belt—taken from Saratoga Springs, waterproof with a 90-degree head so it doesn’t roll, known as a Moonbeam—and ducks down into the cellar. It’s a small room, easy to clear, and then you can start inventorying your findings. Rio is laughing, ecstatic. There is a workbench, a coil of thick rope, an array of tools—screwdrivers, wrenches, hammers, saws—some homemade leather wallets and holsters, cans of Brillo color spray…and then a treasure trove of weapons mounted on the walls.

You scan the collection. “We got Marlin .22s, we got Ruger Magnums, we got Remington 12 gauges, we got hunting knives…and one Glock 20.”

“A lot of ammo under here, Chips,” Rio says, yanking boxes out from beneath the workbench and stacking them on the floor, organized by caliber.

“No scopes?”

“Not that I’ve seen yet.”

You lift one of the Remingtons off its hooks and examine it: dusty, unloaded, vines of rust on the receiver. “We’ll have to go through and sight all of them. I don’t think they’ve been used in a while.”

“That’ll be a lot of noise. But here’s the place to do it, I guess. Low population, and we’re not staying.”

“Exactly.”

“Sight them for close range, like ten yards?”

“Yeah, that should work.”

Aemond says, eyebrow raised: “I didn’t know the Navy used shotguns.”

“Everyone hunts where I’m from.” You put the Remington down on the workbench then pick up the Glock, a box of 10mm ammo, and a can of Brillo. “Come on. Grab one of those hammers. I’ll show you how to shoot.”

You bound up the cellar steps and out into the shade of the oak trees, not stopping until you are at the edge of the property. Across the backyard where he lounges on the grass, Aegon gestures to the barn and asks Luke: “What’s in there anyway?”

“Nothing. Saddles and a few dead horses.”

“Oh, dynamite, I gotta see the dead horses.”

Jace says: “Aegon, man, what is your diagnosis?”

You use the can of Brillo to spray a large chocolate-colored circle onto a tree trunk, then make another two feet above that. You count your steps as you walk back towards Aemond: approximately ten yards. You load a single bullet in the Glock, aim for the bottom circle, and fire. A hole appears at the very edge of the circle. You take the hammer from Aemond and give the rear sight a few knocks. “This isn’t recommended, but it usually works.”

Aemond is smiling. “Okay.”

You load the full magazine and try again. The bullet hits closer to the middle this time. “Here. Both hands.”

Aemond takes the Glock but hesitates. “Is…my eye…?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem. A lot of people close one eye anyway when they’re aiming. I always do.”

He is relieved. “Oh. Good.”

You tap the underside of the Glock. Aemond obediently lifts it. “The line of sight is slightly higher than the barrel, so you have to account for that. And then gravity will pull the bullet lower, and the longer the range of the shot, the more it will drop. So when you fire, the barrel should be angled upwards just the tiniest bit, not horizontal.”

“Like throwing a football.”

“Yeah, exactly. It’s an arc, not a straight line. At first it’ll feel like you’re trying to do all these calculations in your head, and it will be overwhelming, but then it becomes muscle memory and you don’t even have to think about it.” Jace, Baela, and Daeron are now eagerly crossing the yard to help Rio carry the guns out of the cellar and receive their own lessons. “Alright, we’re going to start with a really terrifying enemy. I want you to shoot that tree.”

“What a formidable tree.”

“Aim for the top circle. And if you hit it, then you can practice on Jace.”

Aemond laughs, butter-yellow sunlight filtering down through the trees, the shadows of leaves flickering over his skin, a mosaic of flesh and earth. You ghost your open hand down the length of his arm as if adjusting the angle. Really, you just want to touch him, to feel his warmth and his stillness, the tension of his muscles, the rhythm of his pulse. He’s watching you, lips parted, goosebumps rising beneath your fingertips. Birds are chirping, sparrows and blue jays. High above, squirrels leap and scrabble through the branches. You pull your hand away.

“Look through the sights. The rear sight at the back of the barrel is shaped like a U, and the one at the front is an I. Is the I in the middle of the U?”

“I have no idea.” A pause as he reconsiders. “Yes.”

“Right, it is, and the bullet should go exactly where you want it to because I already sighted that Glock. I’ll show you how to do it later. Now shoot the tree.”

Aemond aims but doesn’t pull the trigger. He’s nervous; he doesn’t want to seem incompetent, pathetic. You imagine it is rare that he isn’t the one with the solutions.

“Hey,” you say softly, and he looks over at you. “You don’t judge me for not knowing how to cure people. I won’t judge you for not knowing how to kill them. Deal?”

Now he’s smiling again. “Deal.” He returns his attention to the tree, lets a few more seconds tick by, and fires. He hits one of the branches. “Oh, that is…embarrassing.”

“It’s not that bad. You hit something. Try again.”

More seconds, more birdsong, more wind through the grass and the leaves. Aemond’s second bullet pierces the trunk about six inches above the top circle. “Yes!” he cheers, boyish triumph on his scarred face.

You resist touching him. It is startlingly difficult. “That was really good.”

He lowers the Glock, and you click the safety on for him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you say.

“Why’d you ghost that Marine at Corpus Christi?”

“I told you. I didn’t like him enough.”

“Okay, sure, but actually. What was wrong with him?”

“I’ve known you for like twenty-four hours. You think you’ve earned all my secrets?”

“Well, not all of them,” Aemond says, grinning. Rio is showing Jace, Baela, and Daeron how to load the .22s. Aegon is swinging his golf club in circles as he follows Luke into the barn. Helaena and Rhaena are giggling as butterflies land on their outstretched fingers. “But our time together could be very finite. It seems unwise to waste it by trying to preserve some amount of mystery.”

“You’ve convinced me.” You want to be known by him, you want to be understood. That is a frightening thing to realize. It’s like handing a stranger the keys to your home. Will they visit graciously, or will they rob you, ruin you, burn you down? “I haven’t seen many examples of love working out for people. I’ve seen couples who hated each other, and couples who split up, and a lot of women having to raise kids all on their own and turning into these…bitter, exhausted, hollowed-out versions of themselves. I never wanted that to be me. And for as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like that was just one wrong choice away from becoming my life. I don’t want men to disappoint me. So I don’t give them the chance.”

You think Aemond is going to say something cheap, flirtatious, awful: Give me a chance, baby. I won’t disappoint you. Instead he says: “I haven’t known many happy couples either. I mean…Luke and Rhaena would be the closest, I guess. But they’re so young. I’m not sure if they count.”

“Rio and Sophie seem happy. But they’ve also barely seen each other in five years.”

“It does things to you, when you start to believe love might be doomed to end or tear you apart or turn to hatred. If it’s just an evolutionary mirage to trick us into reproducing, what’s the point of giving someone that power over you?”

“Exactly.”

“I feel like one of us should be trying to talk the other out of being so fatalistically cynical.”

“Yeah, totally. Okay. You talk me out of it.”

He chuckles. “No, I don’t think I can. You talk me out of it.”

You’re watching Aemond, realizing you like everything about him—his smirk, his height, his hands, the clear direct blue of his eye—and wondering what the hell you’re going to do about it. Then there is a scream from the barn.

What?? Who??

“Luke!” Aemond shouts, and takes off across the yard. Now you’re all running, even Rhaena and Helaena who don’t have anything to fight with. Everyone is yelling, their lungs heaving in wild June air, their shoes pounding against the earth.

Inside the barn, on a wooden floor strewn with hay, Luke is shrieking as he tries to push a zombie off of him with his bare hands. She’s an older woman, grey hair in rollers, yellow nightgown stained with gore. Something has happened to her feet. Both of her legs end in exposed tibias and flapping strips of purplish, rotting skin. Aegon is beating her with his golf club, but he can’t get a good shot at her head. If he accidentally hits Luke, he could make it worse, he could stun him or even knock him out, and he’ll be bitten in the few seconds it takes anyone to remove his undead assailant. Rio lunges to grab the zombie. She snaps at him with bared teeth and he retreats, drawing his M9.

“Don’t shoot!” Jace is saying. The air is putrid: dead horses, dead people. “You’ll hit Luke!”

Your own M9 is suddenly in your hands, the safety clicked off, one eye closed. “Luke, don’t move.”

“Kill it, kill it!” he pleads hysterically, pushing the zombie as far from him as he can, his palms sinking into the decomposing bruise-colored tissue of her chest and throat.

“Don’t shoot!” Jace orders, but you ignore him. He fades into the background with all the other frenzied voices. Your finger on the trigger, a boom like thunder, bits of bone and brains against the wall. Luke shoves the corpse away, trembling, sobbing. Rhaena flies to him.

Aegon spots the fresh blood on Luke’s right hand and panics. “Is that a bite?!”

Luke notices the wound for the first time. “I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“I don’t know!” Luke wails, tears flooding down his pink face.

“I thought you cleared the barn!” Aemond roars at Aegon.

“It fell out of the loft, we didn’t think anything was up there!”

Luke is blubbering: “I hit my hand against one of the stalls, I think that’s how I cut myself, I was just…I was pushing it away…I didn’t think it bit me…oh my God, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t want to die…”

“It only takes once, kid,” Rio says grimly, fidgeting with his M9, looking at Aemond as if for permission.

“Don’t touch him!” Jace hisses, stepping in front of his brother and clutching his bat. “No one is going to hurt him, it’s not a bite, you can’t prove it’s a bite!”

You reach for Luke’s bleeding hand. “Can I see—?”

“Get away from him!” Jace swings his bat. The tip of it connects with your skull, just a graze fortunately, but still enough to rattle you. Rio charges Jace, tackles him to the floor, starts throwing punches. Baela has apparently forgotten she’s heavily pregnant and is trying to pull them apart. You join her.

He’s going to demolish Jace. He’s going to break his nose or jaw or something. “Rio stop, I’m fine, stop!”

There is another gunshot, a cataclysmic earth-shaking explosion that makes the pain in your head surge from a ripple to a wave. Aemond is aiming his Glock skywards; a hole has appeared in the roof of the barn. “Stand up!” he commands. Rio and Jace reluctantly comply. You help Baela to her feet.

“Aemond,” Jace says. “You have to stop them, they’re going to kill Luke—”

“No one is killing anybody.” Aemond lowers his Glock. “Maybe he’s been bitten. Maybe he hasn’t been. And even if we knew for sure that he was going to turn, we don’t just execute people like this, threatening them when they’re terrified. We have humanity. We have compassion.”

There is a silence that strikes you as heavy, laden, holding meaning that escapes you. Aegon points at Luke. “So what the fuck are we going to do about him?”

“We’ll tie him up,” Aemond decides.

“What?!” Luke exclaims.

“There’s rope in the cellar. We’ll tie his arms and legs so he can’t do anything and keep him like that for a few days until either his hand heals up or he turns into a zombie. Someone will always have to be with him to help him eat and take a piss and also…you know. Deal with it if he turns.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Rhaena says immediately.

Aemond’s voice is now gentle, sympathetic. “I don’t think you want this.”

“If Luke has to die, I should be the person with him.”

“You’ve never had to put someone down before.” And in this statement lives another: Aemond knows what that feels like. Aemond has had to kill someone when they turned.

“I’ll stay with him,” Rhaena says again, this frail harmless doe-eyed girl, and you see a steeliness in her that you hadn’t thought existed.

“Okay,” Aemond relents. “When you’re asleep, Jace or I will take over.”

“It’s not a bite,” Jace murmurs, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“We’ll all find out soon enough,” Rio says, casting him a glare, then goes to fetch the coil of rope from the cellar.

Aemond cleans and bandages the wound on Luke’s hand. Then the weapons, ammo, and newly immobilized Luke are loaded into the Tahoe. Aemond asks you once everyone else is inside: “How’s your head?”

“Fine, I think.”

“Hurts?”

“Just a little.”

“Dizzy? Double vision?”

“No, nothing like that.”

He takes a quick look, parting your hair with his fingertips, feeling gingerly for blood and swelling. And this is becoming a serious problem: every time he touches you, you want more.

“Aemond…who did you have to kill?”

He doesn’t answer. For another moment his hand lingers by your temple, then Aemond turns away and climbs into the Tahoe. This time, no one sings along to the next song on the mixtape. Heads rest on windows, eyes are vacant and misty. Baela steers the Tahoe westbound on Route 1004, the Chainsmokers drifting through the speakers: All We Know.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Pick a card, any card,” Aegon says when he’s done shuffling. He fans out the entire Uno deck face-down and offers it to Rio, Aemond, and Jace. They each select a card, then Aegon picks one for himself. Finally, he holds out the deck to Luke, who stares up incredulously from where he’s still bound with rope and sitting on a curb in the parking lot of a Burger King just outside of Yarnell, Pennsylvania.

“Are you serious?”

“You’re an adult male, aren’t you? You think being in the middle of transforming into an undead murder machine exempts you from gasoline siphoning duty?”

“I’m fine!” Luke insists.

“Great. Then pick a card.”

“I can’t move my hands, you idiot.”

“Pick it with your mouth.”

“I hate you.” Luke bites his card of choice and waits with it clasped between his teeth, glowering.

“I want to pick a card,” Daeron says cheerfully.

Aegon refuses. “No. Too young. A baby.”

“Aegon, I’m seventeen!”

“Can’t enlist, can’t do jury duty, can’t buy lottery tickets, can’t sign up to drink gasoline. Okay, everybody show their cards.”

“I got a three,” Jace says, then yanks Luke’s card out of his mouth and reads it. “He got a skip.”

Aemond’s card is a nine, Rio’s a five, Aegon’s a reverse. “That means you lose, Jace,” Aegon announces, admittedly rather gleeful. “You had the lowest number.”

“This is bullshit, I had to siphon last time!”

“Then stop picking bad cards.”

“Jace, I can do it,” Aemond says.

“And get to be the martyr, as usual? No thanks. Give me the damn hose.”

Aegon roots around under the Tahoe seats and produces a long, semitransparent siphoning hose. “All the ones with the little pump attachments were sold out everywhere by the time we thought that might be useful,” he explains to you and Rio.

“That sucks, Jace,” Rio says. “I mean, literally, it sucks.”

“Next time we cross a bridge, I’m pushing you off it.” Jace takes the hose from Aegon, pops open the gas cap of the Dodge Ram 3500 you’ve found, and threads the hose down into the tank. He sucks on the other end and then shoves it into the Tahoe once the gasoline starts flowing. The fuel gauge was hovering just above E. Hopefully you can get at least a few gallons out of the Ram, another fifty or a hundred miles, maybe even two hundred, enough to get you across the Ohio border.

Jace is bent over and vomiting gasoline onto the pavement. Rhaena and Baela sit with Luke as Aemond feels his forehead and peers into his eyes. Daeron accompanies Helaena as she goes to scavenge inside the Burger King, her burlap messenger bag slung over one shoulder. Rio is now holding the siphoning hose and watching the liquid gold pour into the Tahoe, his smile growing with each passing second. Your eyes fall on Aemond and stay there, his careful hands, his brow knitted with concentration.

A whisper from behind you: “We could fake date to make him jealous.”

You whirl to see Aegon, mischievous smirk, neon green plastic sunglasses. “That is a super generous offer and I appreciate the thought you put into it, but no.”

“Why not?”

“It’s dishonest. It’s manipulative. If something is going to happen with Aemond, I want it to be real.”

Aegon sighs. “No, you’re right, it was a dumb idea. I just figured I have a lot of experience.”

“Experience with what?”

“People pretending to love me.” He flashes a strange, sad smile, then follows Daeron and Helaena into the Burger King.

[makapatag]

Art by the refulgent @lntpblk!

Anitu is the word for ritual worship across the Sword Isles. Sometimes, it also refers to the gods, souls, and ancestors worshipped to: Anito, Hanitu, hantu. They all arrive from a shared culture in the distant past when even gods were not born.

GUBAT BANWA is a martial arts fantasy tactics RPG set in the refulgent lands of THE SWORD ISLES, inspired by Classical Southeast Asian cultures! We're coming to KS on the 27th!

Anitu lore below the cut!

Anitu is less of an organized religion and more of a catch-all term for most faiths in the Isles, where most of them practice ancestor veneration, sacred worship nature, and ardent ritualism. Each banwa might not even call what they do “anitu” and might refer to it as some other word in their language: in North Rusunuga it is called pagsamba, while in the Eastern Jamiyin Kulisa’s Arrows it is referred to as Qiparjeyuhun, which is just “faith” or belief.  For the most part, only those in Gatusan’s mandala of effect recognizes Anitu as a term for a larger belief form.

The most prominent form of Anitu is Kangdayanon Anitu, which is the one practiced in the Gatusan Mahamandala’s center of power, Kangdaya. This version of Anitu has fully syncretized the Saiwa branch of Ashinin Religion, which brought the idea of a fully fledged pantheon and the idea of cosmic forces of gods in this realm. One important syncretism is the adoption of some ancestors turned into Gods, who are performed rituals to. One such god is Apung Makangayaw, the Dragon of Raiding, worshipped as a distant ancestor of Amihan, who became Rani Amiyah, the queen that Shri Bishaya married into to stake his claim into the island of Tauhaw. The gods Jamiyun Kulisa and Indira Suga also arrive from Saiwa Ashinin. 

Another important syncretism is the understanding of a cosmic soul, or a supreme oversoul. This is meant to be Siwa, but that name was quickly indigenized and understood to be Laon, the Ancient One, the name of the tallest mountain that can be seen from Tauhaw, Kanglaon. Laon means old, aged, ancient. It is said that Laon is THE Ancestor, from where all things arise.

Another important aspect brought in by Saiwa is the construction of grand temples meant to emulate the stories of the gods both celestial and chthonic. By creating these they believe they are bringing in Favor and Merit, making their lives more fortunate and enriching them with good omens. An important belief, when in the Sword Isles, as every city is subject to the sacred whims of the souls of the world—hurricanes, typhoons, tsunamis, earthquakes, droughts, thunderstorms. 

The word in Kangdayanon Anitu for temple is MAGDANTANG, and smaller versions of these temples are known as lantangan. Natural sites are worshipped and offered to as if they were magdantang. This is why every lake, mountain, hill, giant tree, river and every important shore and beach have lantangan for offerings. Stone structures are rare and only appear in the larger cities of Gatusan—they carved onto the side of hills and mountains, or from the rocks of said mountains after performing rituals to ask permission from the mountain gods to take stones for creating merit. The largest stone temple is in Kangdaya, which also acts as the Palace of the Ponong Raja. Other important sites are the Pagodas of Put’wan, the Holy Mountain of Kihadi-an, and the grand (yet now lost) temple city of Biringan, crafted by an ancient Samrasat Devaraja in the island of Mairete, now lost in its jungles. 

Kihadi-an is a grand monument complex constructed to mirror the mountain of Semedu, the grandest peak in all of Gubat Banwa. This name in Kangdayanon, Put’wanon, Ba-enense, and Apunon Anitu is attributed to be one of the regnal titles of APU DAYAWA, the grand mountain that juts out from the island of Kalanawan.

Finally, Anitu now recognizes Ashinin-style regnal titles and even the concept of god-kings, as brought by Shri-Bishaya’s retinue and royal court. Ponong Raja Batara Ambas now has a claim to a divine right to rule by way of being an avatar or an embodiment of Laon on the Warring Realms. Titles such as datu are considered a step below the title of Raja, and Maharaja. Ponong Raja means head Raja, and is a coveted title amongst all. According to the Kangdaynon balyan, the gods in the sky speak of the Uniter of the Hundred Hundred Islands, which they call the Langidagandraja, a fusion of the words LANGIT + DAGAT + INDRA + RAJA. Together, this name means HEAVEN-SEA GOD KING, as the conquerer of the entire sky and sea. This name is fabled and no man has a claim to this title. It cannot be gifted by the gods nor can it be achieved through enlightenment. It must be seized from hearts and minds of people.

[alterchaos]

LONG TIME NO SEE

Chris Thorndyke, now an 18-year old student of the Station Square Institute of Science and Technology, discovers one day that the window between dimensions has mysteriously reopened. Determined to offer his little sister a chance to see everyone again, and maybe even find a way to keep the window open for good for easy visitation, he begins work on the dimensional portal in secret.

Months pass and Chris finally achieves a working portal. He contemplates whether he should tell anyone, though decides to venture forth first in case of danger, leaving a small note behind for his family explaining everything should anything happen to him.

Upon entering, he finds himself on the familiar Angel Island, though smoke and fire rains from all around. Beyond the edge of the floating isle, a great battle ensues against the foes soon to become known as the Metarex. He’s quickly spotted by Tails, who is flying the Tornado and providing aerial support alongside a mysterious girl named Cosmo. The two of them land, explaining the situation to the young scientist as the planet’s armored assailant is taken down. Knuckles returns to Angel Island with a battered, unconscious Sonic, shocked to see the once-teen Thorndyke now fully grown.

While resting, the girl made of leaves and flowers explains how the Metarex wish to wipe all non-plant life from the universe and establish what they consider “true peace” and “perfection”. With no time to waste, Tails and Chris build a massive ship called the Blue Typhoon in order to follow this new threat into space and stop them once and for all.

And thus, Chris Thorndyke became a key player in the great war against the Metarex.

[katerinaaqu]

I have a question I've had for a while now and i was wondering if you had any insight on it. In the Odyssey, Sicilian people are mentioned a couple of times, like Laertes' maid. Then we have Trinacria, the island of Helios with the ancient name of Sicily, as well as the island of the Cyclopes (?). So I was wondering, what reality is Homer (or the earlier tradition) trying to describe here? Sicilians as indigenous people prior to historical Mycenaean and later colonization or as Greek citizens of the forming Magna Graecia of his time? Would these Sicilians have shared their land with Cyclopes and/or the Sun god in myth?

That is a very good question. Arguably Homer mentions various locations by name for example Egypt (not only as the place of shipwreck of Menelaus but also in the Iliad Achilles says that "even if you gave me gifts as rich as in Egyptian Thebes" ) while other locations are either hinted (Tynisia for Lotus Eaters for example) or not named as some official name we recognize (Scheria, Ogygia etc) and Sicily is a famous place to check as well which is probably yet another reason why Butler suggested the theory that the woman he believed that wrote the Odyssey lived in Sicily (see my other ask)

Trinacria is by general decision placed indeed at a small island off the coast of Sicily and some accounts and researchers believe that the isle of Sicily itself is the land of Cyclops as well as the passage between South Italy and Sicily is said yo be the passage of Skylla and Charybdis due to the dangerous currents there I even had done a small research on the area while studying on greek colonies at university at postgraduate degree. The area around it is also linked to myths like the sirens as well. So yeah it does seem like Odysseus did a tour around Italy many times over hahaha 😆 even the land of Kimeria is mentioned most likely to the passage between Italy and Spain. In fact there are many people who place the land of Scheria off the coasts of Spain instead of the isle of Corfu (Kerkyra) because of the location being too far from Ithaca and fitting the homeric description.

The area of South Italy and Sicily is a precious area for the ancient Greeks for it was one of the most famous area they built their colonies (earning the name Magna Grecia aka Big Greece). The are is linked to various of myths as well including Titanomachy (Zeus vs Typhoon), Skylla and Charybdis, Sirens even as you said the Land of Helios and Aeolia. Some of the earliest colonies the Greeks had in the area was the one I studied, the placed named Pythekoussai right off the coast of modern day Napoli and was inhabited already by Homer's time.

I would say your question has one possible answer; both!

We do know the area was known to Greeks before otherwise they wouldn't have inhabited it so early. We also know that the Mycenaeans traveled a lot across the Mediterannean sea by the zenith of their palatial system (around 15th century BC). In fact people from nowadays Greece were traveling around. We discover pottery from the renounced Kamares of Minoan times to North Africa and Egypt as far back as Middle Kingdom. Depictions of Ramses's favorite wife, Nefertari, show the queen wear a silver earring that resembles a Minoan axe in shape as well (and by the way Silver was mostly an imported good in Egypt for Egypt was poor in silver) We even discovered a papyrus that is estimated to depict Mycenaean warriors working in the pharaonic army. They are drawn obviously in an egyptian style but this yellowish helmet is estimated by some to represent the boar tusk helmet.

There was also a palace that I studied during my postgraduate degree when we studied the cultural exchanges in Mediterannean sea in northern Egypt that has a Minoan decoration and is dating from the time of Hatsepsut and Tuthmoses III. It is estimated the designer must have been Minoan and either temporarily or permanently living at the area when he was commissioned this building's decorations possibly by an Egyptian.

When the Mycenaeans extended their areas of exploring in order to exchange goods they probably followed known roads. We do discover in Neolithic times for example obsidian that came only from the small island of Melos all over Europe. Probably Mycenaeans already knew some of the roads and based on products and new cultivated plants they probably did reach the coasts of Spain if not already Gibraltar (given how Atlas is said to hold the sky there). We also know or we estimated that local populations already lived there when they arrived. We do not have too many pieces of information on colonies already built at that time like remains of Cities purely greek or anything but it does seem that the locals and the Greeks interacted in various occasions.

I believe one crude way you can use to distinguish when we talk about Greeks or at least Greek influence in Sicily or any other place Odysseus visited vs totally local foreign populations is the custom of Xenia. If Odysseus visited a place and was offered hospitality according to the custom of Xenia then it seems like Homer insinuating Greeks or Greek influence to the locals. If the locals offer some different form of it or not at all or abusing it then we talk about local populations that either never met the Greeks or if they did they rejected them and their customs.

Another crude way would be to see if the area or the people are linked to some Greek God. For example Polyphemus and the Cyclops are definitely linked to Greeks through the myths such as Poseidon or the several genesis myths in mythology but they also represent the locals who know nothing of Greek culture or that they deliberately reject it aka a threat to the Greeks that are linked to possible conflict or wars between locals and Greeks when they tried to establish their culture or their commerce in the area.

For example Odysseus visiting the land of Lotus Eaters we can talk of a land that never interacted deeply with Greeks before because they are naturally hospitable people but do not know the custom of Xenia for they do not ask the strangers who they are or where they come from or offer them food and a place to stay but rather hospitable people that simply give you what they have (lotus) but they do not follow the customs. Scheria is definitely the opposite. Their story even implies a colony as they do seem to travel there and establish their city and civilization there. The customs of Xenia are impeccable in the Odyssey as they treat Odysseus eactly as the Greek Customs of Xenia. And they even recognize the employing ritual (see my other post here) when Odysseus makes a plea to the queen Arete. Polyphemus and the cyclops on the other hand represent the exact opposite. They have almost nothing of what the Greeks estimate as civilization such as agriculture and looming. Polypemus is a son f a greek god and he is aware of the laws of Xenia but he mocks them and even twists them beyond recognition. He knows what it is (he even mocks Odysseus with it when he gets drunk by asking his name after he receives his gift and then says that his own gift back is to "eat him for last") so maybe here we have a clear representation of Greeks being in the area but the local populations antagonizing or even fighting them. Circe and Calypso COULD be added to the category since both are technically goddesses thus Greek gods in the area=Greek presence in the area. Both goddesses though seem to abuse the laws of hospitality for example Circe does invite his en according to custom but she twists it and turns them into pigs holding them hostage (a possible hint of struggles between Greeks and locals and the existence of hostages? Perhaps). Odysseus has to act accordingly to save his men. But Circe is aware of the laws for not only does she do it all emplying ritual and eventually she honors the custom of Xenia to the T (perhaps a hint that the greeks eventually passed their culture in the area? Perhaps that would be me taking stuff out of a magic hat here XD)

Of course one needs to keep in mind that by the time Homer synthesized his poems, Greeks were already forming colonies. We do not know for sure if that was a thing in Bronze Age but we know they moved around for as I said before we can trace the products, toponyms such as Egypt or Ethiopia in Linear B tablets as well as the rare occasions when we discover shipwrecks (one was discovered off the coast of Turkey from Cyprus and, loaded with bronze for commercial purposes towards the Mediterannean sea, possiby Crete)

(here's an experimental replica) and we do find similar findings in the sea to connect the dots of history. So it could be partially Homer's anachronism but judging from the data he is surprisingly accurate according to period. Maybe is too early to assume that there were actual colonies of Greeks in the areas as Scheria seems to hint but I have no doubts that Greeks were already in regular contact with populations there even potentially have small settlements for better distribution of goods to the several ports.

I hope this answers your question. Sorry for the long answer.

[selarina]

Ghosts in Love

-> Suna Rintaro x Reader

Chapter 1: In the Meat and Dairy Isle

Summary: Amidst shared streets and familiar alleys, chance encounters with your ex at grocery stores or parks evolve into shopping together and sharing park benches.

Loosely inspired by the poem "Ghosts in Love" by Carl Sandburg

Chapter Warning: exes, domestic angst lmao

Words: 1k words

Taglist: Open

Read on AO3 | Series Masterlist

You and Suna Rintaro have purchased tickets for a concert that is almost a year away.

Neither of you have canceled the booking for those tickets. Neither of you have tried to sell it off. It just lies there in the pile of your dusty emails. No attempt is made to delete it. You just let it make a home there, catching dust until you decide to reopen and read it again. And again.

It’s been 7 months since the two of you have broken up and you're wondering if you really need to get rid of them. You only mean, things have significantly mellowed down to a point where you go grocery shopping together, in a manner of speaking.

You still live in the same neighbourhood as him, so days of running into him at the grocery store, the park, or the laundromat have turned into days of shopping together, sharing a park bench, or using the same washing machine if there’s room. Cheaper that way, the two of you reason out.

So you've decided to bring it up at your next weekly run-in.

Except, you don’t see him all week. Or the week after that.

It’s odd but you don’t ruminate, you don’t have the time to. It’s the end of the month and you have deadlines that keep swamping up all over your calendar. And you also have a company ball to prepare for.

"Hey," he says, bopping your cold nose. You think that must have been instinct, because he brings his hand back down almost immediately at the touch. Like it stung to you, or that he's simply repulsed.

But you see him again, on a gloomy day. It’s raining on and off and everything is sticky. You’re sweating but you’re also cold as you stand opposite him in the meat and dairy aisle of the grocery store. His hair has grown a little, and it cascades across his face like a flood of dark water.

Your gaze is now drawn to the yogurt section as you look for the brand you usually use. A soft pink package. He lingers behind you through this, and you’re conscious of his movements. You wonder if he can see right through you, but it's a thought that only lasts for a split moment. He never really did understand you that well, you think.

"Haven't seen you in a while," you remark glibly as you toss a can of milk into your basket.

But it's a lot more intense in your head, and you find that your defences are back up. Why? You aren't sure, but you strongly believe that you will find out today.

“Yeah,” he says. You wait for a moment until you realize he isn’t going to explain himself. He doesn't have to after all.

“How have you been?” you try to change the topic.

“Fine, a bit restless. We haven’t had practices for a while,” he says. You proceed to basket the yogurt, along with some cheese.

You’re both sitting in a park now, just about to part ways before he says, “I went on a date.”

You hum in response.

—

The evening passes by as the two of you slip into the inevitable flow of a conversation.

You’re finally grateful you braced yourself for the inevitable.

You can’t say it doesn’t hurt, but it only hurts like a sting, rather than a typhoon. Right now, you’re too muddled with questions. Questions you don’t have the right to ask.

You don’t say anything.

A beat later, you ask, “Why are you telling me this?”

“I–I really don’t know actually,” he chuckles, and for the very first time, you hate it.

You hate the way his cheeks hollow into soft undefined dimples, you hate the crinkle at the edge of his eyes, and most of all you think you hate him in this moment.

“What?” It comes out before you can stop it, and nurture it into something more mellow — but right now, your anger seeps through your mouth and spits onto his face.

“Okay. Um, I really did need to leave so,” you say, and with a swoop you push yourself up.

This time you move quicker, walking away to leave but he stops you. His hand comes up to clutch your wrist. It's not tight enough for you to not walk away but you stop.

“I’m sorry,” he says and he seems genuine, which makes you hate him even more.

“It’s okay, Rin.” You say, because you could nurture your anger into something different. You’re definitely not okay, but you can pretend you think. For a bit, until you no longer have to pretend.

“Please, ca—just sit with me.” He says, and the wind blows, sending a chill down your back but you sit down anyway because you’ve never truly been good at telling him no. Not when it mattered, at least.

“Thank you,” he mutters.

You don’t speak for the rest of the time. The two of you just sit there, and your anger dies and it dies, and you almost forget about all of it, because this is nice right?

This is comfortable and familiar, and it makes you wish you could turn time back, at least in your head. But it’s abruptly met with a stop, when he speaks again, “It was bad.”

“I figured,” you say.

You hum, urging him to continue. Reluctant but ready.

“The date, I mean," he elaborates.

“I don’t think I’m over you yet,” he says. “It’s killing me just a bit, I think.” He tries to soften the sentence with a chuckle.

“I think that would kill me more,” he says soft as a whisper, you could barely hear it. It almost made you assume it was just the wind playing tricks on you.

“Want me to change neighbourhoods so you can move on then?”

Your words come out sounding a bit condescending but you have a soft edge to your voice, a lilt of humour if you will, like it’s amusing that you would ever do something like this for him. Would you?

“Anyway, it should be you if one of us is moving,” you say.

“Well, I was here first. It’s only fair,” you say, firmly.

“Me? No way,” he says, his pitch rising. “It’s closer to practice, and the home office."

He doesn’t say anything for a bit. You were here first, you were more in tune with this area than he was. Most of his favourite things about this neighbourhood are borrowed, he realizes. They're all yours.

At that, he feels a bit empty, “That’s actually fair.” He adds, “I’d rather neither of us have to move. I’d rather us be friends.”

“Me too, Rin.” You smile at him.

Only you can’t help but think about how it sounds like a distant fantasy, reminiscent of dream-addled childhood dreams where you thought of driving yourself across the country. You reassure yourself because you can drive now at least.

[sanguinesorcery]

There were storm clouds on the far horizon.

If Fariah was a more superstitious woman, she might have considered it a bad omen. But all it really signaled in her routine-addled mind at this point was that there would be more work to be done in the coming months. Days, even.

Monsoon season was nothing to sneeze at, the tropical tempests a constant battering of wind and waves and heavy pelting rain. Breakers would need to be checked periodically amid the storms, the lighthouses had a habit of falling off-time due to the heavy moisture grinding into the tracks and gears, seawalls watched with a diligent eye. Just imagining the reports from the Ring was making her head swim. Those would have to be bolstered and handled long before the swing of the typhoons hit...

She hefted an elegant sigh across her shoulders as she wished that the heavier storms would wait until after this mainland delegation had been set on the path back home. Otherwise, they would be holed on the archipelago for months. She had little idea how stable their monarchy's council actually was, she did not want to be held accountable for the collapse of a nation simply on account of the damned weather. There was no satisfaction in that...

"Are you ready to meet the ferry?"

Ildra's inquiry caused her Empress to turn from the window she had been standing in, watching the Imperial Guard on the parade grounds and the roiling stormhead far passed the statue of Shrayak, the first Ariad. How fitting that his great bronze maw, opened wide with fangs bared to the world in that violent show of defiance, looked like it was responsible for the distant weather. Like the clouds were clinging to his canines and spilling from his throat.

Because of course you would call the storms, that is your name...

Down below, she could see the passenger freighter Seraphim pulling into the Imperial docks on the Central Isle. It flew the standard of a mainland nation, one she had not seen before now. Eyrol had been given explicit instruction to let the other ferries take common passengers the prior week when the letters of introduction had first been received. He would not have other obligations to this task, and who better to ferry foreign dignitaries than the Imperial Admiral himself. They were always safe in his hands, his skill as captain and helmsman proving his title was not for show; there was competence behind the clout. None else would do.

"Yes, Ildra. Let us descend." Fariah's reply was short. Matter-of-fact. Something she was sure her Regent would approve of.

It was accompanied by the twinkling chime of metalwork and lightest ruffle of silken hems over the marble floor as the austere Imperial wafted in the direction of the docks. Ildra was not far behind, keeping time and stride with her Empress' progression through vaulted halls and chambers. Across the parade grounds to the stairs that lead from the lower palace complex to the docks.

The army of maids and attendants who were already waiting in line to accept their guests rivaled the numbers of the Imperial Guard who had arrived when news of the ferry had entered Imperial waters reached them. The latter turned to salute their arriving Imperial as she and her Regent arrived, hands over their hearts and bowing their heads from their shoulders before resuming their post.

Dockhands scrambled as soon as the ironclad swung into the harbor, performing a turn only Eyrol could have been capable of for the size and heft of the ship, a gearing down of the turbines audible to any and all in the vicinity. He'd used the tension of the water as a brake, splashing it up on the pier itself as it was displaced. There was shouting from the dockhands as they took the waves around their knees. It wasn't angry shouting, though; Sidhe were solid-footed when it came to water, owing to their continued seafaring nature. If anything, they sounded playful and amused with the results. The anchors were dropped, pulling and holding the ferry as stationary as possible while the water around it settled again, and the engines were set to idle.

As expected, Eyrol poked his head over the aft railing of the Seraphim, waving to the Imperial party below and receiving one back. His ears flicked forward to hear Fariah when she called up to him.

">>What can we expect with this one?<<"

Eyrol's face scrunched a moment while he tried to think on how to explain what he had observed the last three or so days on the trek home. ">>...He's ... interesting ... <<"

The answer merely furrowed her brow with thought. ">>...'Interesting', how. Exactly.<<" Before he could reply, she stared directly up into his eyes from the ground. ">>No surprises, Eyrol. I don't want another incident like Mani'yik...<<"

Such a point caused the Admiral's face to twist in a different way. One of mild regret. ">>Yeah, that was my fault, I'm sorry about that. So!<<" He continued when he'd straightened his back again to address the rest. ">>This one doesn't seem to be Like Him. He's just very active. Hard to keep contained, entertained, and I guess he's just very curious. About everything. ...Expect questions. Lots of them.<<"

">>Well ... good. Questions, I can handle. Violent declarations of marriage and then war after he is refused, I can't do again. We'll just have to be vigilant about the kinds of questions he asks.<<" Inwardly, Fariah sighed at this revelation. Curiosity was a good sign, most of the time.

">>I remind you this is highly unprofessional.<<" Ildra interjected from her place in front of her Imperial, standing at the threshold to the pier. ">>Our only saving grace here is that it's unlikely the delegation has someone who can speak Sidhe.<<"

Eyrol laughed some, mirroring his chuckling Empress. ">>Unlikely. But the mooring is done, I'll go get the gangplanks down.<<"

As he left to perform his final duties, Fariah laid her eyes into Ildra's back. ">>Nothing wrong with being prepared. You know better than anyone about preparedness.<<"

The Regent huffed a little at the playful admonishment. ">>Yes, well. Let's be ready, I need to herald you soon.<<"

A few moments were taken to move the silk around, making sure the fragrant wind flowing over the docks didn't displace the layers too much. A dust here, a tug there, a purposeful moving of a string of pearls or fine chains and gems there.

"Right. I think we are ready to go."

@askganondorftobadragmire || Starter Call

[niceandshiny]

WMG about the next update

How likely are they going to release Figment as the last character for the Eternity Isles?

1. The ‘Spark of Imagination’ thing feels like it should be obvious and on the nose, but just using the terminology could just be a reference like some of the character dialogue that references stuff not strictly in the game.

2. The ‘varsity jacket’ thing that comes with a lanyard had Oswald and Figment as the top pins, but also has Pluto who we haven’t seen. He also has a stamp or two now in the Touch of Magic options.

3. Figment and Winnie the Pooh were included in the popcorn buckets, Winnie the Pooh and friends were on the list of characters on the recent player survey, but not Figment.

But I don’t know how he would factor into the Typhoon Lagoon boat we still have no explanation for, maybe they’ll actually give us new characters after the “storyline” is done.

[sabo-has-my-heart]

For the 750 follower event:

10. Waiting together in a small shop for the horrible storm to calm down and the electricity to work again definitely brings people closer together. + 5. “I can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try not to.” + Usopp with a male reader?

(More of a premise, if you want to go with it: Reader has been slowly falling for Usopp for a while now, but is nervous about messing things up with his best friends. And then they get stuck in a shop waiting for the storm to pass and the lights to come back on, and the staff have fucked off to take a break, so its just him and Usopp, and it's just... nice, listening to Usopp talk, telling stories by candle light. And then maybe things go to a confession and a kiss from there...? 👀)

Anyway, thank you 💛🍰

Hey! thanks for sending this in! I don't have much on Usopp so it's always interesting to write for him. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Male!Reader, love confessions, male x male romance

Word Count: 1245

     He’d been your closest friend since you’d joined his circle of friends. It had started out fairly simple, an accidental run in at a small shop. It was one he, apparently, frequented. It had been funny, listening to him make up an excuse, telling you some grandiose lie. You hadn’t called him out on it, but you were pretty sure he knew that you knew he was lying. From there, things had just fallen into place, inviting you to meet his friends, growing closer to him… crushing on him. Was he the most honest of sorts? No. but he was sweet, kind, funny, interesting, and his stories, while obvious lies, were always entertaining. You desperately wanted to ask him out, often finding yourself daydreaming about him, but each time you thought about asking him out a nagging voice in the back of your head stopped you. What if you messed things up? What if he hated you? What if he was disgusted by you? What if, what if, what if. It scared you, you’d rather hide your feelings away just to stay by his side than risk losing him. At least this way, he was still your friend. 

     Walking down the isles of the same small store, you glanced out the window, the weather hadn’t been too bad when you’d gotten here, strong winds and fairly heavy rain, sure, but nothing that you couldn’t deal with. Now, however, it looked almost like a typhoon outside. You could see trees bending under the heavy wind, trunks threatening to snap, you could hear the windows rattling in their frames. Looking over at Usopp, you sighed.

     “We should stick here for a while, until the storm passes. There’s no way it’s safe to go out in that.” you said, gesturing to the storm just outside the window. Usopp’s nervous laugh made you smile slightly as he tried to stand up tall and look confident.

     “Are you kidding? I’ve faced heavier storms when I was little! You couldn’t blow me away with weak gusts of wind like that! But I suppose if you’d prefer to stay here, I don’t mind. The great Usopp will make sure you’re safe!” he said, trying to look brave. You just smiled and shook your head, finding his tough guy act adorable.

     “I’d like that, thanks. Storms are way scarier when you’re alone.” you said casually, as if he was doing you a huge favor by staying. It was somewhat true. You did want him to stay and storms could be scarier if you were alone, but you also didn’t want either of you to attempt going outside, didn’t want either of you to get hurt. The lights overhead flickered before dying, leaving the two of you in the dark as the employee behind the counter started grumbling.

     “Usopp! Hold down the fort! I ain’t workin in the damned dark!” the man said, heading towards the back. To do what, you could only guess. 

     “So uh, it’s just you and me now, huh?” you asked, rubbing your arm nervously.

     “Yeah, but don’t worry! They have candles on the next aisle. I’ll pay them back later.” Usopp said, easily navigating you around the store, lighting a couple of candles so you could see. 

     “Thanks, I don’t hate the dark or anything, but it’s more comforting to have a little light during a storm.” you said, grabbing one of the stools from the other side of the counter and sitting down. 

     “Even if you were, I could protect you from anything that might try to hurt you. I once took down a lion twice the size of a normal lion!” he said, making you laugh. 

     “That must have been amazing. I bet everyone was impressed.” you said, humoring him as he went into another tale of his ‘amazing adventures’. Honestly, you could listen to his stories for hours… or days… weeks? Months…. Years? Your entire life maybe? The thought pulled you out of his latest story, simply staring at him for a moment. Your entire life? You could just sit here with him, listening to him talk, listen to his stories, just spend time with him for your entire life? To be honest, you’d never considered the idea. How could you when you were too nervous to confess? Too worried about ruining your friendship.

     “Hey, Y/n! What’re you thinking about?” Usopp asked, noticing that you were no longer paying attention. You stared at him for a moment, not entirely certain what to say.

     “You.” you said softly, staring into his eyes.

     “W-what?” Usopp asked, his cheeks starting to turn pink. Had he heard you right? 

     “You, I’m thinking about you, Usopp. I…I can’t stop thinking about you…no matter how hard I try not to.” you admitted, looking away from him. This was it, this was where he would reject you, where he’d tell you that you’d ruined a perfectly good friendship. 

     “You’re… please tell me you’re not joking, Y/n.” Usopp said, starting to fidget, looking away as well.

     “I… I’m not joking. Usopp, I… I like you, a lot.” you said, rubbing your arm nervously. 

     “Why not say something sooner? I uh, you’re really, I mean… ahem… the great Usopp would never turn down someone as spectacular as yourself.” he said boldly, falling back on his usual grandiose claims. You chuckled and shook your head, smiling at him.

     “I’m not sure if you’re serious or if you’re joking around like always. Please, Usopp. Be straight with me, do you like me back or not?” you asked, swallowing hard.

     “I, o-of course I do. Like I just said, you’re spectacular.” Usopp muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets, looking away again. You sighed in relief, still smiling.

     “So I… haven’t ruined our friendship?” you asked, feeling less and less nervous by the minute.

     “Of course not! Even if I didn’t like you back, we could still be friends! Not that I don’t like you back, because I do, I’m just saying.” he said, slight panic in his voice. You just laughed, grinning like an idiot as you looked back at him.

     “I get what you’re saying.” you said, stopping him from rambling on.

     “Oh, that’s great. So uh… since, you know, you like me and I like… I like you, would you like to maybe go get something to eat after this? N-not as friends but as, ahem, as more?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

     “As your boyfriend?” you half teased, enjoying the blush that spread across his entire face.

     “Y-yeah. I mean, if you want.” he said, glancing at you before looking away again.

     “Yeah, I’d like that… come here, there’s something I want to show you.” you said, enjoying how cute he looked as his head tilted to the side. Usopp leaned closer, his eyes widening when you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into a kiss. You normally weren’t so bold, but after telling Usopp how you felt and not being rejected, you were feeling really good. You weren’t sure when either of you had closed your eyes, only that when you did, the lights were on again, making you laugh. Looking out the window, you smiled, the wind and rain having let up.

     “We should get out of here before the storm decides to change its mind and start back up. Grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the store, still grinning like an idiot.

[nauticadreams]

During 1691, Jack Teague was born during a typhoon aboard a pirate ship. Named after the brother of his father, Edward Teague, Jack grew up without his unknown mother amid the seafaring outlaws at Shipwreck Cove on Shipwreck Island. Not eager to be yet another crewmate, Jack Teague insisted on one day becoming a captain of his own vessel. After serving as a cabin boy, he would find himself the captain of the Barnacle, a small fishing boat that had been left abandoned at Salty Cove on the island of Tortuga.

After a bout of adventures around the Gulf of Mexico, the Grand Barnacle would be destroyed in a confrontation with the English Royal Navy by cannonfire intended for Edward Teague’s ship, the Misty Lady.

After many more adventures, Jack would later find himself as a crewmember of the Wicked Wench, under the captaincy of Captain Morgan (not to be confused with the buccaneer and later governor of Port Royal of the same name), when they would be confronted by Capitan Armando Salazar around 1711. Salazar had been in command of the Spanish galleon, Silent Mary, and had been putting effort into the extermination of pirates in the West Indies out of vengeance for his father and grandfather who had perished at the hands of pirates. The battle would take place near the Devil’s Triangle west of the Windard Isles in the Lesser Antilles, and would see the Silent Mary destroyed as she ran aground a collection of rocks shortly after entering the triangle while in pursuit of the Wicked Wench - a result of actions spurred on by Jack “the Sparrow.” For a while, Jack found himself elected captain of the vessel, as their captain had perished in the confrontation.

Some time later, Jack no longer found himself aboard the Wicked Wench, as he had been press-ganged into service aboard a French brigantine named La Vipere, captained by Christophe-Julien de Rapier. Not long after, he had been left at sea in a longboat with fellow crewmate Robert Greene. Upon reaching dry land again, the duo began working for the East India Trade Company for five years, and Jack served as first mate aboard the brig Fair Wind. In 1716, after taking control of the Fair Wind, defending her from pirates, Jack Sparrow was offered captaincy of the merchant vessel Wicked Wench (which had apparently fallen into EITC hands by this point) by an impressed Lord Cutler Beckett, who was a director of the company regarding West Africa.

After a number of voyages on behalf of the East India Trading Company, Jack had been ordered to deliver a cargo of enslaved Africans to New Avalon in the Bahamas. Jack however despised the idea of humans being deemed as cargo and instead freed them, stealing Beckett’s ship. Shortly afterwards, a number of vessels were dispatched to capture the pirate Jack Sparrow, and before long he found himself imprisoned.

Months later, Jack would be brought to the coast of West Africa and be branded upon his arm with a “P” labeling him forever as a pirate. Just off the shore, he was made to watch as the Wicked Wench was torched. Breaking free from his captors, he swam for the ship but found himself trapped within her cabins as she sank beneath the waves.

Jack Sparrow found himself somewhere between life and death, on the path to Davy Jone’s Locker or the Land of the Dead. There, a deal was struck with Davy Jones that if Jones would raise his ship, after thirteen years he would forfeit his captaincy and serve onboard Jones’ ship, the Flying Dutchman. The blackened, charred ship would rise above the waves once more and be renamed the Black Pearl.

Two years later, in 1718, Jack would have Hector Barbossa aboard the Black Pearl, naming him first mate in a voyage to search for Aztec gold that had been stashed by Cortes. Prior to its discovery, the crew mutinied, an act which Barbossa spurred into being. Jack was marooned on a desert island, and Barbossa claimed captaincy of the Black Pearl.

Jack Sparrow would escape his solitude on the desert isle, and sail the seas having many more adventures over the next 11 years, until Jones would later reappear to him in 1729.

[orphancookie69]

Nintendo Switch: DDLV-A Rift In Time...Part 1!

Where I thought this was going to be Update #6, it is taking a path all its own and happening at the same time as Update #6. Let's jump in.

Before the Update: So, there is a lot to unpack in just one image. Left to right. Left, you see the vitalys crystals found in the mines. Waterfalls and the almost antlantean rocks. I would love that snake as a pet. A sand land, Jafar was teased at the end and he does come Arabia. The castle from Aladdin is in the center. Shifting right you have Tangled house, with the main character from tangled below. You see wall-e's garden, but you also see Eve. I would love for wall-e to have his other half. You see the encanto house, not that I saw the movie or generally liked that-but that is a large family as far as I know. Maybe we get another family member? I almost forgot about Gaston, glad to see more characters from that story coming. He could look better. The staff tool looks original. I can't place the animal on the right. I can't place the boat but some have said it's Typhoon Lagoon, Tarzan, or Jungle Cruise. Maybe Mickey's ship? New realms means new flowers and seeds and foods. Also, THE MONKEY.

Welcome to Eternity Isle: So there is a lot to unpack here. First off, check your mailbox. There will be some intended and unintended goodies in there. This is somewhat story based, you will need to have completed a couple of missions (4 or so that show up more in the beginning of the game) that you need to be able to start your journey to Eternity Isle. You talk to Jafar via a holographic device. Merlin shows you how to get there. (I was so surprised when I saw it, the developers are being very smart in leaving so many future options open for this game)

Once you get there, You see mostly what we saw in the preview as a video. The first area is ancients landing. This is essentially another valley but its smaller (and called an isle). It functions not unlike your valley, but with different everything. Animals, fruits, trees, crystals, spices, etc. You do have a copy of your house there-which begs the question-should storage be inside your house to transfer to both areas better? You follow the story and most of what you need to know is explained as you go.

Characters can come and go to both locations. Mickey introduces a game you can play with villagers, seems chess like. I have not played this yet but plan to next time I jump on. You have Eve, Gaston, and Rapunzel on this side to meet and level up. You can house them here or in the valley. There is a restaurant from Remy to work on, stalls for goofy, and a shop for Scrooge.

I personally really like it so far. A lot of content now, and coming up, for the price. It is hard to imagine how much it cost behind the scenes to make this. Yes, at some point the company will profit-but if they do not, they go out of business-and if we want to play games we need the company around. Next update is in Spring of 2024, part 2-the spark of Imagination. What part of this do you love so far?

[stormingchaosheartcontrol]

More Than The Emerald

Knuckles stood guard of the Master Emerald on Emerald Isle; looking up toward the sky above him, it was quiet and though he usually enjoyed uneventful nights, the red echidna had his suspicion and a gut feeling that tonight wasn’t going to remain uneventful for long.

“Oh, Knuxie!” A sing song voice greeted.

He was right.

That name. That pet name there was only one person who called him that, and the Master Guardian knew exactly who it was.

“Well, Well, if it isn’t, Rouge the Bat.”

“Uh-uh. That name’s off-limits slugger.” The jewel thief corrected, “Because last time I checked, my new name is, Rouge the Rat.” Wiggling a scolding finger.

He recalled that memory vividly, “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

Mischievousness radiated off her. From the very top of her head, down to the very bottoms of her white and pink heart shaped high heeled steel toed boots.

“I would, but what fun would that be?”

Violet eyes shot her a look, “Let me guess, you’re for the Master Emerald?”

She waved her hands defensively, “Don’t get all excited sweetie. While old habits do die hard, and I mean that for the both of us; you’ll be happy to know that that’s not why I’m here.” Squashing his assumption in the process.

Knuckles raised an intriguing brow which Rouge instantly caught.

A smile plastered itself on her features, “The reason for my visit is personal.”

“Personal?”

The ivory bat nodded affirmatively.

“Listen hun, I know we don’t always see things eye to eye-”

“-That’s an understatement.” Knuckles interjected.

“And while it’s true, I’ve tried stealing and have stolen the Master Emerald as well as all seven Chaos Emeralds from you more than once.” The ivory bat confessed, motioning towards the massive green emerald that sat behind them.

“More times than not.” He said, adding to the fact.

“Believe me when I say, that’s not why I decided to drop in unannounced.”

‘Or the other times for that matter.’

There was no questioning nor denying that the red echidna enjoyed his and Rouge’s playful banters -that usually turned into a heated argument between the two- and sure, he’d much rather have a conversation with the sass filled treasure hunter without having to dish out an insult every two seconds. Deep down he knew, both knew in fact, that that’s how they showed they cared for along with demonstrated their deeply rooted and unspoken love for one another. Yes. Despite the pairs countless quarrels -that mad them sound like an old married couple- name calling, disagreements, unexpected run ins, constant bickering as to who The Master Emerald truly belonged to -which was one thing the former G.U.N. agent and Guardian of the Master Emerald still, to this day couldn’t agree upon- and rapid fire insults. Knuckles knew his life would be dull and boring if he didn’t have the sassy bat in it. The same thing could be said about, Rouge and how she felt about her hot-headed knucklehead of an echidna.

‘You’re just a jewel thief, you wouldn’t know!’ She scoffed, mocking him, red dreadlocks appearing atop her head and ears.

‘Long time no see treasure hunter, are you ready to give me back my emerald?’

Her emerald? No way that was happening; how many times was he, the Master Guardian, going to have explain that to this bullheaded jewel obsessed bat until she got it through her head? His answer – 24/7.

Though it’d been years Knuckles knew that day at Meteor Herd, marked the beginning of what would eventually become a significant point and important detail in their relationship.

‘Oh, Knuxie.’ Her voice greeted.

Unamused eyes peered up at the ginormous Blue Typhoon video monitor, ‘Well, well, if it isn’t Rouge the Rat.’

Little did he know that that particular insult would later come back to haunt him.

Successfully swiping the gigantic and unexpectedly heavy emerald green jewel from its perch, the ivory treasure hunter was about halfway through the forest before being stopped and confronted by a fuming Knuckles the Echidna.

‘That’s the Master Emerald, and you’re going to help me take it back!’

‘First you’ll have to catch me!’ She expressed before dashing off.

Memory upon memory came flooding in Knuckles’s mind and while neither could read one another’s mind; both knew they had similar memories, but with different perspectives flying around in their minds.

“It wasn’t about the emeralds, was it?”

Rouge raised a perplexed brow, wanting to hear the rest of his sentence.

“Ancient Pyramids, Meteor Herd, Mobius, Blue Typhoon.” He said listing examples, “All those times you claimed to be there for the emeralds, was nothing more than a cover up wasn’t it?”

He’d asked her this before, to which she quickly denied his accusation and responded in true Rouge fashion with a sassy one-liner insult; meaning tonight, should not have been any different, but instead of falling back on her usual instincts the ivory female allowed herself to be honest him as well as herself and let bottled-up vulnerableness -that’d been pushed down for years- to finally be released and take its place on her features.

“Given the circumstances in place at that time.” She admitted.

Knuckles inquired, “Then your comment about pieces of the Master Emerald stinking like echidna’s was merely a front.”   

Rouge heard the smugness in his voice, “Oh, I meant what I said, hun.” The former agent quipped, “But seeing how you treated me, after our battle at Meteor Herd changed my opinion of you, for the better.”

Violet eyes met teal ones.

“How’s your wing?” The red echidna asked, referring to their most recent encounter.

“Not completely healed, but it’s come a long way since the injury.” She informed fully aware of where their conversation was going.

*Flashback*

If the hospital room conveyed an image of fullness how come a mixture of loneliness, emptiness, fear and uncertainty seemed to consume her? Loneliness taking up the majority of space in her heart; speaking of love, the ivory knew she had friends -if she could even call them that, considering all that transpired on earth and in space- always felt something in her life was missing. And no matter how hard, Rouge convinced herself it wasn’t true, the former G.U.N. agent had to face facts that she didn’t have a place- no. A person to rely on when difficult times, like the one she found herself in, reared its ugly head. Well, almost nobody, there was-  

A series of knocks brought her back to reality.

‘It’s open.’

Waiting for who the jewel thief thought was the doctor to speak quickly turned sour.

‘Don’t you know it’d rude to keep a lady waiting?!’ She refuted; her voice filled with sass.

‘Is that anyway to treat your guests?’

Receiving a quick witted comeback under normal circumstances was nothing and didn’t bother her in the slightest. However, it was an entirely different scenario to be served a rapid-fire insult while being badly injured and that one little detail wasn’t going to prevent, Rouge from unleashing her wrath on her unruly visitor.

‘Listen here mister!’ Huffed the ivory bat, ‘I don’t know who you are, or why you’re even here, but don’t think I won’t hesitate in having you removed from the premise!’

A smug smirk appeared on his face.

‘I see you’re as batty as ever.’

She paused before dishing out the next set of insults. More specifically the female treasure paused because she knew there was only one individual -or echidna in this case- who could evenly match her rapid-fire quips.

‘You’re still a knucklehead.’ Coined the ivory colored female, “But that doesn’t explain why you’re here, hun.’

Knuckles stepped forward a bit before being at her bedside, ‘Isn’t obvious,’

Puzzlement plastered on her face, quickly turned to one of intriguement.

‘To see you.’

Teal eyes widened for a few seconds before realizing what he meant; that’s when a fresh batch of emotions along with old locked up memories came flooding in, like a huge wave crashing up and into the shoreline. This was her opportunity to have a much needed discussion with the red Master Guardian about past events that happened between them.

‘Have a seat, sweetie. It’s time we have a heart-to-heart.’

*End of Flashback*

Silence settled around the echidna and bat, who now sat beside one another on the mini staircase that resided in front of the Master Emerald.

“Even if I hadn’t of known right away, I still would’ve come regardless.”

“I know.” Rouge said, her head resting on Knuckles’s shoulder, “And I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else.”

He smiled mischievously, “Gee, never thought I’d hear those words leave your mouth.”

The jewel thief mimicked his demeanor, “Hm, never thought I’d see the day, where you’d go more than five minutes not being a hot head.”

Knuckles put his arm over her free shoulder, resulting in the female bat to be pulled closer to him, causing a light tint to appear across their features. If two people fight, they really care about each other. A saying both have heard on more than one occasion and though they’d scoffed at such a thought at first; reminiscing about past adventures, memories, run ins -old and new- here at Emerald Isle, made two the treasure hunters come to terms of how it accurately depicted their relationship, and how there’d always been a deeper underlying reason when it came to searching for the Chaos Emeralds and Master Emerald and then some.

[worldwright]

Isoris Day 2: The Windwell Peninsula

Zone C1

Located firmly at 10º south of the equator, the Windwell Peninsula is decidedly tropical in climate. Regular typhoons and tropical storms batter the mangroves along its coasts, occasionally breaking sections off to form free-floating islands that wander the tropical sea to the west.

The peninsula forms the eastern border to the Ultramarine Expanse to the west, as well as the Sea of the Wandering Isles, where the displaced mangroves circle lazily, breaking apart and joining together in their own gentle dance.

Though the lush jungle of the Windwell Peninsula is full of bountiful resources, the frequent harsh weather makes it a difficult place to set up permanent residence. Because of this, it remains largely uninhabited save for a small population of aarakocra who find it unnecessary to build permanent shelter and so aren't as bothered by the wind.

The tall cliffs along narrow passages among the islands make for a popular trick-sailing course among the more young and daring residents of the city-state of Cartagan just to the southeast of the Peninsula. The unforested easternmost island of the Peninsula has served as a thrill-seeker's getaway for many decades.

However, even the boldest sailors avoid the innermost depths of the forest. 15-foot-tall skeletally-thin ape creatures stride deliberately through the twilight, long hooked arms ensnaring the unwary. Deadly raptors appear seemingly from nowhere, diving at impossible speeds to tear even humanoid-sized creatures to shreds. Paths wander and vanish, and the spirits of the trees play tricks on the eyes.

Best enjoyed from a nimble sailboat guided by a steady hand, the Windwell Peninsula offers a stunning paradise of soaring mountains, birds of all the colors of the rainbow and some that aren't, plunging waterfalls, crystal-clear bays and diamond-bright beaches, and enough sea breeze for a lifetime.

[hotcupoteckla]

Bjorn Bjornson didn't want to be here, on this island.

He wanted to be in Valhalla.

But he fucked up.

His Valkyrie came for him as they were at sea, amidst a storm, nay a typhoon, as they approached the shore to spy what they could plunder from the 35rd village they were to plunder that year. He stopped keeping track after the 5th year. Before the storm capsized them, at least he would be with Sven Svenson, his long time rival and best friend.

Sven was overboard, too, their oars having plucked them from their seats after hitting a serpentine current.

He panicked midswim, and started going under the surface, which was blindingly white with froth and foam. He felt an arm, rugged & strong, wrap around from behind, and felt the weight of his body become lighter. Sven?

Nay, fierce warrior, it is I, come to guide you both home.

NO!

HE WAS MEANT FOR VALHALLA!

He reached behind his head and grabbed something soft, downy, and pulled with all his might!

He would LIVE for Valhalla, FIGHT FOR VALHALLA!

He felt something break his head, break his heart, and break in his arms.

And now he was stuck on the Isle of the Undead.

To get the eternal glory of a warriors death, you have to die fighting. You remembered this as the third village in a row surrendered before you could even draw your sword. You are a legendary old viking, and you’re getting worried.

[whattheabcxyz]

2024-10-31

Singapore

$4.75m compensation awarded to victim of road accident in Malaysia - multiple parties to share liability; the victim was 38 at the time of the accident & has since required full-time care due to severe brain damage

3 international students caught smuggling duty-unpaid cigarettes in soft toys - they're from China 😡😡😡

Man charged for biting 2 LTA enforcement officers in Woodlands - this feral beast needs a cage

DHL, Salesforce & Trust Bank named among best workplaces here

Anti-death penalty activist faces probe for defying POFMA correction order

Food

High levels of hazardous chemical residue detected on Shine Muscat grapes - 9 samples were from China

Environment

New study finds alarming rise in persistent "forever chemicals" in pesticides - PFAS from pesticide products were detected in rivers & streams throughout the US

Science

Anyone can learn echolocation in just 10 weeks — & it remodels your brain - previously, scientists thought only blind people could do this

Nature

^ 1 of Singapore’s 3 remaining giant clam species has not been seen since 2003 - already, 2 of Singapore’s 5 native species of giant clams have been declared extinct here ...with all the f***ing habitat destruction taking place here, added to the fact that we now have millions more humans crammed on our tiny isle (no thanks to our useless govt) generating a $hit ton more pollution, this is an inevitable outcome! I cry for the clams & that our waters are now worse off without them!!! 😞

Fashion

Free makeover by Singapore fashion labels turns migrant workers into models

Travel

SIA & Scoot flights between Singapore & Taipei affected by typhoon in Taiwan

[brookstonalmanac]

Beer Events 7.1

Events

First display ad for Best & Co. (later Pabst) appeared (1852)

Federal Beer Tax of $1 per barrel went into effect to help finance Civil War (1863)

Andrew Billings patented a Mach Machine (1890)

Wenzl Medlin patented a Mash Tub (1890)

Frank Senn & Philip Ackermann Brewery incorporated (Kentucky; 1892)

Amsdell Brewing & Malting Co. incorporated (1897)

Wooden Shoe Beer 1st for sale (Minster, Ohio; 1903)

Flamingo Brewing's beer 1st for sale (Miami, Florida; 1933)

Compressed Bale Method of Packaging and Preserving Hops patented (1958)

Employees of Centlivre Brewing of Fort Wayne, Indiana, purchased the brewery, becoming the 1st employee-owned brewery in U.S. (1961)

Hoegaarden re-introduced by Pierre Celis (1966)

Schlitz Brewing patented a Process of Brewing (1969)

Anheuser-Busch and Labatt sign a “lifetime licensing agreement” to have Labatt brew and market Bud and Bud Light in Canada (1998)

Mississippi finally legalized brewpubs (1998)

Brahma and Antarctica merged (1999)

MillerCoors began operations (2008)

Widmer and Redhook merged (2008)

State private club system abolished, making bars open to the public (Utah)

Brewery Openings

Weyland Brewing (1885)

Washington Brewing (Washingon; 1899)

Als Harboe Brewery (Estonia; 1975)

St. Stan's Brewery (California; 1984)

Cornelius Pass Roadhouse & Brewery (Oregon; 1986)

Golden Lion Brewing (Canada; 1986)

Lighthouse Brew-Pub (Oregon; 1986)

Weeping Radish Restaurant & Brewery (North Carolina; 1986)

Gritty McDuff's (Maine; 198)

Southern California Brewing (California; 1988)

Weinkellar Brewery (Illinois; 1988)

Old Marlborough Brewing (Massachusetts; 1989)

Dakota Brewing (North Dakota; 1990)

Latchi's Grille & Windham Brewery (Vermont; 1991)

McGuire's Irish Pub & Brewery (Florida; 1991)

Flying Dog Brewpub (Colorado; 1992)

Empire City Brewing (Oregon; 1993)

Live Soup Brewery & Cafe (California; 1993)

Pacific Brewing (California; 1993)

Reverosa Co. (New York; 1993)

Atlanta Brewing (Georgia; 1994)

Blind Pig Brewing (California; 1994)

Boar's Head Pub & Brewery (Texas; 1994)

Emerald Isle Brew Works (Rhode Island; 1994)

Oaken Barrel Brewing (Indiana; 1994)

Old West Brewery (New Mexico; 1994)

Smuttynose Brewing (New Hampshire; 1994)

Bosque Brewing (Texas; 1995)

Boyne River Brewing (Michigan; 1995)

Brewery on Martha's Vineyard (Massachusetts; 1995)

Carolina Brewing (North Carolina; 1995)

Cooperstown Brewing (New York; 1995)

Humpback Brewing (California; 1995)

Remington Watson Smith Brewing (Wisconsin; 1995)

Black Robin Brewery (New Zealand; 1996)

Blue Mountain Brewing (Oregon; 1996)

Blue Star Brewing (Texas; 1996)

Brasserie Sainte Colombe (France; 1996)

Denali Brewing (Alaska; 1996)

Flying Goose Brewpub (New Hampshire; 1996)

Highland Fling Brewpub (New York; 1996)

Jeremiah's Foghead Brewery (Tennessee; 1996)

Les Brasseurs de la Capitale (Canada; 1996)

Moode's Tooth (Alaska; 1996)

Oak Pond Brewing (Maine; 1996)

Oh! La! Ho! Beer Club (Japan; 1996)

Spiker Ales (Nebraska; 1996)

Typhoon Brewing (New York; 1996)

Yosemite Brewing (California; 1996)

Beer Sunshine (Japan; 1997)

Brewzzi Brewing (Florida; 1997)

Diversified Brewing (California; 1997)

Elliot Bay Brewery & Pub (Washington; 1997)

Hyannisport Brewing (Massachusetts; 1997)

Home City Brewing (Ohio; 1997)

Joshua Huddy's Brewery (New Jersey; 1997)

Killian Bayer Brewing (Florida; 1997)

Offshore Ale Co. (Massachusetts; 1997)

Prairie Brewing (Wisconsin; 1997)

Quay Street Brewery (Michigan; 1997)

Steelhead Brewing Fisherman's Wharf (California; 1997)

VBC Bottling & Cooperage (Virginia; 1997)

Yo-Ho Brewing (Japan; 1997)

Brasserie Freedom et Firkin (France; 1998)

Hudson Valley Brewing (New York; 1998)

Osset Brewing (England; 1998)

Rochester Mills Brewing (Michigan; 1998)

Sliverado Brewing (California; 2000)

Brauhaus Kuhler Krug (Germany; 2001)

Illinois Brewing (Illinois; 2001)

Beau’s Brewing (Canada; 2006)

Grimm Brothers Brewhouse (Colorado; 2010)

Knee Deep Brewing (California; 2010)

Conrad Seipp Brewing (Illinois; 2020)