#(nw shes still figuring herself out)

[iceb4gw-c]

wendy important question.

Opinion on women (as in. Are you gae)

Fine, Ig. I meann..smash 🤷‍♀️?

Not sure if I'm gay dude like cmon-

[vindextra]

My Agents

So, like a lot of splatoon people, I've got my own takes on the Agents. They started out as just a few additional character traits on top of the canon agents, but quickly spiraled out into a lot more fully formed characters.

These characters are presented as they are in the middle arc of my story Breakpoints [insert link]. The first arc retells the stories of Splat 1, 2, and OE, if you want to know how they got to where they are, check out the story!

Agent 3: Quinn

(unfortunately Quinn does not have a ref yet, though one is currently being produced!)

Quinn moved to Inkopolis to get a new start as a new squid. It admittedly wasn't going so well until he followed a weird old man through the sewers and became Agent 3 of the New Squidbeak Splatoon. (Earning himself a surrogate grandpa, and later two surrogate sisters in the process.)

Quinn is light hearted, but direct. He intends to meet problems head on, and is willing to plant his feet and be stubborn when he needs to.

Unfortunately, as a result of the partial sanitization in the metro, the connection between his brain and the muscles in his face were severely damaged, leaving him unable to emote or talk without explicit and deliberate effort.

Quinn remains doggedly committed to the NSS, staying as the only 24/7/365 active member, a trait that doesn't go unnoticed by Captain Cuttlefish.

He/Him

22 years old

Arrow Squid

Can win a blindfolded 4v1 turf fight with just a splattershot

Agency Member

1 vs Many combat specialist, Survival specialist

Known for defying odds for fun

Agent 4: Nora Sheller

Art by Nalina-nw!

Nora left her home of 5 siblings to try and make a name for herself. As a result of co-parenting her 4 younger brothers, Nora is compassionate to a fault, a trait that actually doesn't backfire when she chases a strange woman through a sewer grate. From there, she settled into a comfortable routine with this apparently famous woman, trying to save her cousin.

Nora's emotionally intelligent, save for her own emotions, which she's almost completely blind too. She's lighthearted and quick to joke around, she easily becomes best friends with Callie after she's saved. An accident on a mission leaves her leg permanently injured, which ends up causing an entire torrent of quiet self-worth issues in the background.

She/Her

24 years old

Hooked Squid

Dualies Master

Agency Member (benched due to leg)

Infiltration Expert

Known for her 'guns blazing' style

Agent 8: Clover

Art by Scratch-o!

Arai, as was her name in the domes, was a brutal, no-nonsense soldier, who just wanted to push through and get done with her service. Repeated instances of her faith being shaken in octavian society around her, as well as a particularly biting betrayal from one of her squadmates leaves her utterly disillusioned with the military.

When she falls into the metro, she loses her memory, but those negative emotions still linger. Now dubbed Agent 8, she resolved to complete the tests so that Craig can make it to the surface, but ultimately she doesn't see any worth in her own freedom. During the fight with sanitized Agent 3, nearly being perma-killed inspires a desperate need to live, which now fuels her every step on the surface.

She takes the name Clover when she reaches the surface. (Mostly) gone now is the brutal, no fun attitude from before, now Clover basks in life and all the small joys it can bring.

She/Her

24 years old

Mimic Octoling

No Weapon Preference

Agency Member

1 on 1 combat specialist

Happy-go-lucky, until it's mission time

Agent 9!?: Mavi

(Pictured here without her glasses) Art by Antsyandpantsy!

Mavi's life fell apart when her dad died. She spent several years in a mental fog until her home situation got so bad she was broken out of by sheer necessity. She still has a stutter as a result of that time, which coupled with her already timid nature paints a rather unassuming figure.

Her friends, both in and out of her turf team, helped her get her feet back under her. She lived rather passively for a while, working as a cashier at the official Squid Sister's merch store, until her close friend Nora needed her help. The world of the New Squidbeak Splatoon is revealed to her, and Mavi is left to make a choice.

She chooses to take some hold over her life, joining the Splatoon to enthusiasm all around! Now she has to learn how to catch up with the other agents, and hopefully before the octavians try to pull a new stunt...

She/Her

22 years old

Arrow Squid

Brella Master

Stand-in Agency member

New to non-turf combat

Timid and stuttering, until her temper flares

[drop--pop--candy]

stares at u autistically. I know we're strangers but I'm curious about that dgr au

HIIIIII nws i love when ppl ask me abt my aus :D i was planning on writing it at some point but the prsk hyperfixation has faded juuust enough that i don't think i could do it now shdjdhfjhd anyways all of this to say im gonna explain the whole plot (of ch1. i lost steam so bad) to you now. hits you with my autism beam

(cw violence, death, drug abuse but like it wasn't on purpose?? this one isn't as bad as it sounds i swear)

so! starting with the basic facts this au is a saki protag. i noticed she dies in pretty much every dgr au (usually really early) and i love her so that rly pissed me off and that's what motivated me to make this au LMAOOO anyways the supports are tsukasa and toya because i am just a liiiittle insane abt the tenma siblings

nothing Particularly Interesting happens in the prologue except for the miku design drop. she's got elements from every sekai's Miku, one pigtail is dark pink like l/n's miku and one is her regular green like mmj's miku. her hair is twisted like vbs miku and her voicebank/tuning is in the style of wxs miku. also she's got heterochromia and different height socks like niigo miku. also this wasn't in the prologue (because i did actually write it) but everyone's tablets have a dm feature so they're basically just phones except they don't let ppl out of the sekai. also also wasn't in the prologue but important detail that it's against the rules to go in someone's else's room even if they have the door unlocked/open unless they give you explicit permission OR they're in some way incapacitated (passed out/dead). all the other rules are pretty much the same from previous dgr games

chapter one time!!! this one is Sad. they're all sad actually dgdhdhdjdh anyways so the motive for this chapter is like a million dollars. and everyone agrees that's a stupid motive and none of them would kill for money. nobody's gonna kill anyone we're better that that ‼️‼️‼️ <- moments before disaster. anyways so all the money is in a giant cube in the gym and a few people talk abt how just having it so out there in the open could entice people. and minori is not having that at all so she gets shiho to help her take this massive box from the closet that's on the second floor of the dorms. the box doesn't actually weigh that much so minori lifts it on her own and instead gets shiho to stand just a few steps down on the stairs and guide her down since she can't find a way to fit the box down the stairs when she's facing frontwards. but when she takes the first step down backwards she slips and falls down the stairs, knocking shiho down with her. the fall breaks shiho's neck, killing her pretty much instantly. it also breaks several of minori's bones, so she takes more painkillers than she should and is really really Weird for the entirety of the investigation because of it.

she doesn't make like. a huge effort to hide that she killed shiho because she was planning to confess, but she doesn't end up doing that because at the start of the trial miku is like "oh btw if you're the murderer and you get caught you get executed lol" and minori just. can't make herself do it bc of the Fear. i think if everyone hadn't figured it out she would've ended up confessing to save haruka and all her friends but everyone did figure it out so she didn't have to do that.

in minori's execution she's got wings like icarus (held together by wax) and she's flying over the ocean. she's still hallucinating from the painkillers so she thinks the glow from the sun is a bunch of glowsticks that are in her color so she flies towards it. the wings melt and she falls into the ocean. minori can usually swim but between the broken bones and the current of the sea she can't keep herself afloat and drowns. and that's the end of chapter one :)

negl to u this took me an hour to type up HAGSHSGSHSGSH i can explain more but just. later i need a break lol. so if u want to see more feel free to send me another ask and i'll answer it in a few hours or maybe tmrw or something but Soon i promise

[lifewithsyfe]

Not quite sure how to put this into words, but someone else needs to know what I know. This story can save people and I won’t feel right until it’s consumed by as many as possible. I can’t express how many times I’ve tried to get this out. I almost even gave up on it, but God wouldn’t let me. So, let me make another attempt at it - this is how I escaped the devil:

-

It was a Friday night, April 5th, 2019. 

I’m at El Rey on U street NW DC, having a few crispy beers by myself. Just got off work, taking it easy...

-

Then, I end up running into and old “friend” I used to hangout with. Known him for about 7 years at the time: (Dave) - tall, black, dreads, above average build.

-

After a couple of drinks, he asks if I want to hangout at one of his friends house. Said we can smoke there and that she has a lot of drugs. 

So I accepted cuz I was originally going to let the night unravel on it’s own and it didn’t sound like such a bad idea at the time.

-

It was a habitual routine I developed during my heartache…

I’d go out alone, run into a group of people I knew, bar hop ‘til we ended up at an after hours spot (or someone’s place) and shamelessly sleep my next day away.

-

So we get to the front of his friend’s building and she’s like a 60 something-year-old lady: 

(Robin) - fat, white, short, blue hair, top row gold grill and “ride or die bitch” tattooed on the back of her neck (amongst a couple others, but that one stood out most because it was in my face while she was unlocking her apartment door).

-

At first, I thought it was a descriptive-type of tattoo. Like, she was saying that that’s what she was.

But in retrospect, it was almost like it was something she saying to me...you’ll see what I mean later, if you don’t get it now.

-

Oblivious to what was about to happen next, I continued to walk through that door...

Something felt off, but I just figured it would be something low-level weird. 

I’m always seeing signs that show somebody dabbles in magic or gives a head nod to the prince of darkness (such as a pentagram or something), but I figured “if I’m not actively practicing divinity or doing weird rituals, it won’t personally affect me…if I don’t create a ceremonial invitation, then I’ll be okay.”

-

Now, I’ve already had a good amount of spiritual experiences at this point (good and bad), but for some reason I just didn’t think anything like this would happen…at least not to me. 

-

I thought I had it all figured out, because I thought I’d seen it all - or at least enough. 

I should’ve known though…I was just so emotionally numb at the time, I was doing anything to feel anything.

I mean aesthetically speaking, in a worldly sense, she looked like she’d have a few good stories or something. Needless to say by now, but I ignored the red flags in hopes of escaping my pain. 

-

So, moving forward...

We walk into her apartment, sit on the couch, watch skate videos and start breaking some weed down.

After a few minutes of small talk, they offer me some acid in a vile. Emphasizing how it was very high grade stuff, but I didn’t need much convincing anyway. I was growing bored and undergoing an overwhelming amount of emotional damage.  

-

Now, I was very into psychedelics and considered myself extremely experienced in that realm. 

But just because I did it a lot, didn’t mean I was. You couldn’t tell me otherwise though.

It was usually my go-to for when I needed that unrivaled escape from reality. 

So yeah, I took the witch’s brew, still thinking it was something I considered fun.

-

Once it started to kick in, I could feel her beginning to stare at me from the end of the room with a big grin on her face.

She then suggested that I take my jacket off because I was going to end up getting really hot, then cackled like it was the funniest thing in the world to say.

-

It was something she said a couple of times too. At first I didn’t know exactly what she meant, I just thought she was a basket case repeating herself. But she was implying that I was going to end up in Hell…you’ll see what I mean.

-

A few moments go by and they both suggest we move the party to the rooftop because her place was limiting and we could see more from up there anyway. 

Plus, she wanted to blow bubbles (possibly a way to distract me from their underlying plot)…and I figured “tripping indoors is boring anyway, why not?”

-

Now because I took my jacket off and left it in her apartment, I began shivering after a while. 

I didn’t expect for it to be that windy, I only wanted a nice little breeze.

So she says she’ll get me a something cozy to put on and that she had to go in for more soap anyway. She comes back and asks to put this fur coat on me. It was nice, so I let her. It had an invigorating energy attached to it, I can't lie. I felt like a million bucks.

-

So I’m comfortable now and she gives me a a little rooftop tour, showing me the visible landmarks from each corner.

Mentioning for me to not to be afraid of my true potential and that I can obtain everything I want. 

I was feeling pretty good about those words, until I thought to myself “that sounds familiar…what if she isn’t speaking in general?” - but I just chalked it up to her being an old hippy. 

-

She then grabs my arm and tells me to look at this red wall, as we walk to the other side of the building. I figured it’d be something visually enticing she was trying to share, but this was going to be her first attempt at hypnosis. There were lights spaced out by every three steps we took, so it would go red-black-red-black-red-black... 

-

Then she asked if it felt like my soul was being massaged - encouraging me to ride it out...essentially, trying to get me to put my guard down, saying “this is where dreams become reality.” 

Then, I began seeing holographic outlines of people in the wall. The traces reminded me somewhat of a glowing snail trail.

-

Right after, I saw myself turn into a block of deformed flesh and almost being slid into the wall if I stared any longer. 

But like I woke up in one of those falling dreams, I snapped out of it with my heart racing.

-

Then with a laugh attached, she exclaims “damn, almost!” 

And that’s when I stopped letting myself be completely naive. The veil was clearly being lifted before me and I needed to be alert. It’s just, I had this slight muffle surrounding my common sense for some reason. Surely it must've been a spell she cast.

-

Now I knew hallucinogens were considered sorcery in the Bible, but I figured one more time couldn't hurt. It’s not like I wasn’t still smoking and drinking. 

It’s just crazy, because it was after learning about the what the fallen angels taught us in the Book of Enoch, is when I decided to trip again. I blatantly chose to play with fire and defy God that night. 

-

See, these hypnotic spells are telepathic contracts. Once the manipulator is installing a vision, it’s at the last second where it becomes your choice to see what happens next.  

It nudges at your curiosity, feeling like it’s a part of the trip you’re supposed to let happen.

But every time I almost did, my heart wouldn't allow it and I’d snap out of it again.

-

Every time she would make another attempt, I could feel my soul almost getting tugged at, with a malicious presence surrounding me. 

The goosebumps I got from this thing, felt like it was ready to defile me in every way possible.

-

In disbelief that what I thought might be happening, wasn’t - I tell myself “let me not cause a ruckus for no reason, I am trippin’ after all. Think of something positive.”

But now my eyes are shifting everywhere, because I keep getting a glimpse of whatever’s approaching. 

Even with that many peculiarities, something kept me in denial.

-

Still though, she tries another set-up and tells me to look at how high up we are, as she gestured for me to look down from the rail. As if I didn’t already know, but I go because I also didn’t want to be rude. I wasn't sure if everything happening was all in my head or not at the time, so I remained as cool as I could.

-

I grab the rail and look over…

(Dave) says “don’t let go,” giving me this wide-eyed look with a smile and said “you feel it, don’t you?”

Then just like that, my heart jumped and my mind began getting flashes of demonic symbols and images like subliminal messages. I even saw random equations in the air, like measurements and ratios of whichever object I laid my eyes on.

-

My vision was about to go black, exactly like the circle closing at the end of a cartoon…until I snapped out of it yet again and backed up with my head on a swivel, angrily questioning them. 

That’s when I caught (Dave) behind me, quickly hiding his hands. 

-

Now I’m on survival mode and it feels like I can’t even make a step without risking my soul, literally. Each step mattered. 

It's at this point that I can feel that I’m being made a fool out of, but of course they gaslight me and try to calm me down.

I still didn’t want to believe I was in this kind of mess, but I’d be a fool to let all of that slide so easily. I couldn't keep lying to myself, as bad as I wanted to.

-

So with caution, I’m trying to plan my escape - playing dumb, but my body is getting heavier by the second too.

She then lifts her speaker and says “listen to these different frequencies, it can change your mood.”

I really wasn’t trying to, because I needed to leave and I didn’t trust her at all now. Especially not with anything sound related.

Then out of nowhere, I hear a distorted garble come out of the speaker and hit my ear.

-

I  asked “what the fuck!?”

Then (Dave) was responds with “oh, you heard that...?”

I looked away and acted oblivious not knowing how I'm going to get out of this, because I felt that if they knew I could hear that, they’d bring out the big guns.

-

(Dave) laughed, saying to Robin “wait, he still don’t know what this is yet?”

Unintentionally, or intentionally letting me know what it was. 

So I tried to leave and they started laughing because the door needed a key fob in order to get to the elevators. They kept suggesting I have a seat, trying so hard to keep me there.

-

(Dave) said “you already ‘bouta do it, it’s better this way anyway.”

Then he was like “look at my hands, this shit trippy, right?”

Followed by him creating an infinity symbol with his waving hands. 

Now this infinity symbol was made of light and floating in mid-air in front of him after he did it. I even looked at it from the side to confirm that it was real.

Right after that, he did the Baphomet pose, flipping his hands and head perfectly in a stiff dance.

Which then caused me to see it’s true form in my minds eye, with a heavy vibration. Another attempt at making me slip, as I try to keep my reality gripped.

-

Once I can see them again, it’s like time stood still and only I could move. 

I’d look around and they’d be frozen. 

At this time, I can hear them having two simultaneous conversations. 

Although, all I caught was (Dave) say “he can’t hear us in this plane.”

-

Then as he slowly got up, it like I was tuning through a radio, I hear a screeching static clear up. The sound then becomes like an electronic bleating and bellowing from a goat, in-sync, surrounding him.

-

This was the moment I became a part of their their collective conscious conversation - essentially telepathy.

Then they began letting me know who they were. Saying that they were angels, that they were around before us and that I can be like them.

-

The whole time they were talking to me, they were trying to weaken and hypnotize me with hand signs - trying to convince me to let go. Thing is, when they did try to convince me, they’d always talk around the subject at hand...but once you know what the subject is, the situation becomes clear. 

-

A lot of people might think they’d get physical and get out of there. I just don’t think they’d understand how it is fighting sleep paralysis, awake. 

I also knew that one false move would take me to the ‘sunken place.’

-

I knew I couldn’t just stand there though. But right before I grab the door to get to the elevator, (Dave) says “okay, you gon’ be waiting on that elevator forever; this is a REAL trip…c’mon, I thought you liked this shit, right?” 

Mockingly he asked “yeah, I guess you gon’ think twice about taking LSD again huh?”

-

I was thinking in my head “fuck, did I really just lose my soul? Is this how it happens to people? Is this where it all ends for me?”

I thought that was it, so I was about to give in and accept the offer - see what benefits I could get, if any. I figured living a worldly lifestyle would be better than dying immediately.

-

Then from there, every time we almost sealed the deal, I would feel a hungry fire approach me from behind. Almost like a burning lick.

The one time I decided to look for where it was coming from, I got a vision with an glowing orange blur in it - slowly materializing, until I could make something out of it. Then with the bit that I saw, I knew it was me being swallowed by fire and not dying. 

-

Immediately after, almost as if I had touched the flames themselves, I yelled in confusion “What? No! Yeshua Hamashiach is my Lord and Savior!”

To which (Dave) nonchalantly responds “okay, you do that...that [N-word] died a long time ago.” 

I sharply look at him with disgust and continued my prayer.

Mentioning to God that He promised He would never abandon His children if they encountered evil and that if there was a way for Him to save me, to do it.

-

Dave says that I’m blowing his trip and leaves to the gas station.

I could’ve left then and there, but I still didn’t want to be alone in an elevator with him. There's no telling what he has under his sleeve or how I might react in while in there.

-

So as I’m praying, I begin to feel the dark hold they had on my heart loosen up. It was like my heart was pumping physical light throughout my body, then all around it. I could feel the forcefield - the LORD had arrived and I could move my body freely. No more fear in taking the wrong step.

-

So on (Dave’s) way back, (Robin) announces it and says let’s go downstairs and get him. That’s when I hear (Dave) say - not yell, “open up” from all the way downstairs and I was amazed...I asked myself “wait, can he still hear me?” 

With him responding “DUH! Damn, you some shit!” and continued on his way. Then it all came to me, I'm sure hidden witches and warlocks communicate like this whenever they encounter one another. Whether it be at parties, art shows or even churches...a fleeting thought, but a concrete one nonetheless.

-

So back to us going to get (Dave) - if I was to leave, this was going to be my chance.

In the elevator she tries enchanting me again, but I rebuked every attempt. She seemed so confident with a huge smile, as if she already won the battle. 

But I’m trying to maintain focus the best that I can, so I don’t slip - which made this elevator ride unnecessarily more intense than it needed to be.   

-

Once the elevator door finally opens, I see (Dave’s) silhouette behind a thick glass rail, carrying an ominous slouch. 

Walking towards me, he notices that I’ve calmed down. I guess he expected me to be spazzing out, screaming about devils and spirits...I already knew how that would make me look though. So when he sees my face, he smiles and asks “oh, you’re good now?”

I guess he assumed the process was complete...

-

Instead, I replied “yeah, I’m not with this goofy shit y'all got goin' on”

So as I’m walking towards the exit, he yells “that’s not the way out!”

To where I respond “fuck y’all!”

-

You would’ve thought I opened the door before touching it, the way I left out so fast. 

As that door closed, I did a little jog to get across the street. 

But a few seconds later, I feel this tingle in the back of my brain (specifically the medulla oblongata), as though it had neck hairs that stood up. 

I look over my shoulder and noticed he decided to follow me…of course. Shortly after I noticed him - with that bull-like slouch, he started to run. 

-

Now I was a little ahead of him, so I didn’t start running yet. I had to make sure I knew where I was going before exerting my energy.

Every time I moved my head, I could feel the tingle coming from his direction like a compass always pointing North. 

So there was no losing him, at least not easily - but I am fast.

-

I couldn’t call a ride because my phone was dead and I couldn’t go to anyone’s house at the time, because it was around 5am.

As (Dave) got closer, I felt my vision going black and my body getting heavy again. A lot stronger this time…time to kick it into high gear.

-

Once it clicks into my head that the easiest place to catch a taxi in such a heated moment would be in Adams Morgan, an opportunity presented itself.

-

Ahead of me was a crosswalk and the orange hand was counting down it’s last seconds. Everything I ever learned told me I wasn’t going to make it, but I wasn’t going to stop running either.

-

So when my foot lands off the sidewalk, is when the cars to my left and right begin to move. 

That’s when everything moved in-slow-motion…and a burst of energy launched me across the street. I saw that moment like a painting in my mind. Sweat with streetlight reflections, my hair slightly messy, clothes moving with the wind, chain dancing and molecular debris falling from my shoes. 

-

That moment bought me time because the cars acted as a barrier as soon as I made it, so he was stuck across the street for a little bit. But he didn't give up. This is when I start hearing scribbly garbles rolling and jumping off of buildings and into my ear “you acting like a lil bitch - come back!”

Perfectly delivered as if he was next to me…I look behind me and it’s like he hasn’t broke a sweat. Completely focused, but still plenty of distance.

-

From the gas station diagonal to the 9:30 Club (where Robin lives), to the McDonald’s in Adam’s Morgan...

My body wanted to give out most of the way, but soul wouldn’t allow it.

I just had to keep running until I found a taxi - which I did. I was going to live to tell the tale; I had to.

-

That’s when Dave caught up, yelling “you look like a unk right now!” 

Because 4 taxis stopped for me coming from each direction in that intersection.

To where I respond “I don’t give a fuck, I made it out and you mad as shit!” 

I get in the car and tell the taxi driver to head towards Maryland. I’ll give him the address on the highway.

-

Finally, after surviving a living nightmare, I made it home. 

I went to my room, played some worship music, got on my knees and wrung myself out of tears to the Lord.

-

Unable to sleep because I knew they could contact me in my dreams.

So I didn’t rest until the drug wore off, which was on the next day in the afternoon…

I even felt that burn on my back as if it was sunburn for the next couple of weeks after.

-

I’m so grateful to still be alive and myself, because I’m 100% positive I’d be in Hell (with something else in my vessel) if I didn’t call on God that night.

It was like I was tiptoeing on a needlepoint to keep my soul.

-

Since then, I've been learning a lot more to keep myself more spiritually fortified and spreading my experience in hopes of leading others into a life of light into the hands of the Lord. I hope this story can do something positive for whoever comes across it, so feel free to share to those you love. God bless you.

[vania-evangelique]

Through Dupont

[I want you to engage with the space one level at a time, like an elevator, or a maze where there is one, (or limited), ways in and limited ways out. But you MUST see one portion before understanding the next!

–

A thought about what it's like to pass throughSometime in September 2023 ]

I thought about the word “remnants' ' while I was in D.C. Something about being in the city this time around felt different. 

Maybe it was my mindset having left Pittsburgh feeling emptied out of all expectations and plans. 

Maybe it was because in September I got to spend time in Bedstuy, my “forever” home.  Even though it is no longer and will never be home again. And even though it would have  never been forever. 

Or maybe it’s because recently I’ve been acutely aware of the things I’m attracted to. 

Acutely aware of my own mortality. 

And acutely aware of the awareness. 

DuPont Circle.

For some reason, feels like home to me. 

I have a hard time walking away from places , something that I  haven’t quite figured out yet. But this one. 

This place. 

Is so special. 

There is something lively about it. Something that paralleled my past in a way that let me peek into a different future. 

But this is not New York. 

This is D.C. 

And on this trip all I planned to do was to visit the Mehari Sequar Gallery. 

And in the moments after a door was closed, I realized the redirection was better than the original destination.

It can be easy to forget that locations are really just settings–the background. What makes the place inst the amount of things to do, but the people. 

The people are what make the place. And I realized that people are the same everywhere. Despite what socio-economic status or climate you find yourself in. We are all experiencing loss, grief, sadness, removal. And in the face of all the current  upheaval, we can still find a way to triumph in the darkness. To decide. That we want our lives to look different from all the yesterdays we were meant to believe we could only achieve.

That, in the moment where you choose yourself, ignoring all rationale and following that gut feeling. That persistent whisper that attempts to push you towards a better life.

 Well. 

The moment you make that choice you are then given more than you ever imagined. Sometimes, most times, as I am coming to find out, that thing is peace. At least, that’s the message I received from Nicola, head curator and director at 11:eleven. Despite not being able to visit the Mehari Sequar gallery, I was given an even better opportunity to talk to a complete stranger, whose speech, inflection and warmth was as if she was speaking directly to my soul. As if she knew exactly what I needed to hear.

Our conversation at 11:eleven gallery centered on Queerness, black women, penny-pinching men, and how we can follow the dream in our hearts and in so doing help people in a way that creates long lasting change. Even if it’s just within ourselves. 

Nicola spoke to me about her experience as a black woman in London, and that after sometime she realized that she was not happy. Despite the money. She had been visiting the states for quite some time, traveling to D.C on a few occasions to continue engaging with art, and remembered the nudging  dream of running her own gallery. 

And so, without more planning or questioning herself on this new venture, she quit her job.  She found herself a space at 10 Florida Avenue NW D.C. And she opened the 11:eleven gallery.

11:Eleven gallery broadens the horizons of the already vibrant art scene in D.C by utilizing a more international approach. Nicola bridges the gaps between the U.S and UK art markets by introducing some truly spectacular and sought after pieces, while simultaneously developing the careers of local, emerging and underrepresented artists. 

Walking into the gallery space I was immediately immersed in warmth, the artwork was kissed by the beautiful natural light from the windows, and as the sounds of car horns and laughter from D.C’s rush hour traffic, I was able to experience new and innovative art from D.C. and UK artist that pushed boundaries in color, installation and style.

It was a beautiful day. So beautiful that for a while I forgot where I was. 

As my feet struck the pavement I continued to wrestle with the feeling that it’s the same. Everywhere. 

Everywhere I’ve ever been is the same. That I never really left Pittsburgh, or Bethlehem, or New York, but was just simply transported to an other place.

I started to hyper focus on the moments and things that had once–in the past–anchored me. Paying acute attention to signs, symbols, and things.Paying acute attention to my breathing and how I felt moving through this space. Paying acute attention to the fact that I was paying attention. 

Making connections to things in a way that I feel I never will be able to articulate. 

Or understand. 

And all the while being grateful for another opportunity to be re-inspired by a home I feel I’ve known long ago. And to want to discover ways to tell the same story, over and over and over again. 

[grex-statera]

Chapter 6: Heart to Heart - Spring, Year 1

One word to describe the descent into the mines: Maddening. But in an exciting and maybe positive kind of way. Only if you're as optimistic as Ellie, though.

The entirety of last Sunday was spent with Linus in the morning and Marlon in the afternoon. Ellie almost felt like an old man herself.

The first time she went down into the mines was with Marlon.

Marlon: Remember: be alert about your surroundings. If you feel faint or claustrophobic, tell me immediately. We can't have you losing consciousness in here. I can carry you, but I have a bad leg and I'll have to worry about the monsters that will attack us, so don't make it hard for me. Understood?

Marlon was quite scary, but Elliot understands. He's just being careful.

The trip went smoothly. They reached the 20th floor of the mines on the first day. There was an underground lake and a safe area to rest at. They even found an old steel sword for Ellie.

Marlon: Not bad. At least you can keep up. I think I'm quite confident letting you go on your own in here.

Ellie: Really? Thank you.

Marlon: Don't let it get to your head, though. I'm sure there'll be a time when you will pass out in here or be gravely injured. I'll have to be more diligent with my patrols from now own.

Ellie felt kind of bad.

Ellie: I promise I'll be careful.

Marlon: Yeah, that's basic exploration etiquette anyway. Don't sweat it. Even the best adventurers make mistakes sometimes.

Brrriiiiiiiinngggggggggggg!!!!

The loud timer brought Elliot back to the present. Her thoughts couldn't help but go back to that time whenever she was unoccupied.

Today was Wednesday, though or as Abigail like to call it: Wmovie Wednesday.

She got invited to join their little group. 'The ASS gang', as Abby affectionately called it.

Abby: Cus it's Abby, Sam and Seb. But if we're gonna add you, it'll still be the same but looks more classy. ASS with an E at the end. Pretty cute, right?

Ellie found herself getting roped more into Abby's group lately. She did try to hang out with Leah and Elliot just as much, though.

Abby's group was fun and wild, while Leah and Elliot were more tame and quiet. Two sides of the same coin.

Elliot got the mini blueberry tarts from the oven. The smell was heavenly. It was a recipe from Pierre so she figured she'd try her hand at making it and bringing some to Abby's.

Her phone lit up with a new message.

Abby: Heyyyy!! Starting in a bit, u coming??

Ellie: Yeah, just getting ready. I'll be there. Wait for me :((

Abby: Sure sure nw :)

Ellie packed the tarts in a Tupperware and headed out.

+++++

Ellie: Am outside. Door's locked :(

Abby: Okieeee coming out

Abby was there in a bit to unlock the store door.

Abby, in her best customer service voice: Welcome to Pierre's!

Ellie: Thank you, Pierre Jr. What seeds do you have in stock today?

The two girls laughed.

Ellie: Just kidding. Brought some tarts.

Abby: OOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!!!! Can't wait to try! Come on, the guys are waiting in the studio.

Ellie thought it was quite awesome that Abby had a studio at her place. It's usually used as a function hall by her mom's aerobics club but only on Tuesdays.

Sam and Seb were on the floor, picking out movies to watch. There were bags of chips and soda cans beside them.

Abby: Behold! The baby has arrived.

Ellie: Baby?

Sam: Hahaha, cus you're the new guy in the group.

Ellie smirked. Then sat down beside Abby.

Ellie: Brought tarts. You guys want?

Sam: Oooooh, what kind of tart?

Ellie: Blueberry. Pierre's recipe. Thought I'd give it a try.

Abby: OMG that's cute.

Ellie set down the container and opened it. Abby and Sam took one each.

Ellie: Don't want one, Seb?

Sebastian was busy going thru the downloaded movies on his laptop.

Seb: Maybe later.

Ellie: 'mkay.

Abby: Ough, this tart's so good. I kinda miss mom now.

Ellie: Oh? Your parents aren't home?

Abby: Nah, probably went to the next town or the city. I don't really know. But they always go out on Wednesdays for a day off.

Ellie: I see. I brought one for each of them too, by the way. Maybe Pierre can give me a feedback on how well I did.

Abby: Aw, I'm sure he'll like this.

The group agreed to watch a couple of horror movies for the rest of the afternoon. The last one ended at around 3 pm.

Sam: Nice, still early. One more?

Ellie: Nah, I'm good. Think I'll head to the mines for the rest of the day.

Sam: Wow, you're really obsessing over that place, huh? Can't blame you, though. It's not everyday you become an official member of the Adventurer's Guild.

Abby: Ohhhhh. I wish I could be one too! But my parents are gonna kill me if they knew I've been going to the mines on my own. You know how dad can be.

Ellie: I can just teach you some sword techniques if you want. Get a taste of that adventurer spirit.

Seb: Nah, don't enable her. You'll just get her in trouble.

Abby: Hey! Killjoy.

Abby rolled her eyes. Sebastian ignored her, savoring his tart.

Ellie: Ugh. You ever had any fun in your life, Sebastian?

Seb: Sure.

Ellie just stared at him, frowning.

Ellie: Right, well, think I'll get going now. Thanks for the movies, guys.

Sam: Sure thing, Ells. Let's hang out again when you're not busy.

Ellie: Yeah, just text me. I'll just get my Tupperware maybe tomorrow, Abby.

Abby: Yeah, no worries. I'll tell mom.

Abby walked Ellie to the door then went back to the studio.

Abby: Dude, you're kinda annoying, y'know?

Seb, bewildered: Uh? And what did I do this time?

Abby: I dunno, but it's like... I dunno but that was kinda annoying. Like, you ignored Elliot the whole time and then sneered at her? Come on, man.

Seb: Hey, first of all: I didn't ignore her. Second: I didn't sneer at her. When did these things ever happen??

Sam: Ehhhh, let me think. Counterpoint to your first point: you kinda ignored her tart when she offered. Counterpoint to your second point: you didn't want her to spend time with Abby.

Seb: Hey, I DID get a tart - and it's good, by the way - and I just said that 'cause Abby had been in trouble with that sort of thing before! It's not a big deal.

Sam: Alright, alright. I guess so. But now she thinks you're no fun.

Seb: Well, you guys know that I AM fun. Who cares what she thinks?

Abby: Dude, she's our friend now. Can't you just be a little nicer?

Seb: Man. Sorry, guys, if I'm not immediately chummy with a stranger who literally JUST moved into town last week. Alright, I've had enough. I'm goin' home.

Sam: Sheesh. Having a breakdown now?

Seb: I am NOT having a breakdown. I need a nap.

Sebastian packed his things and headed home.

+++++

It was dark in his room when he woke up. He reached around his bed for his phone: 7 pm.

Seb: Ugh. God.

He got up and turned on the lights then got dressed in his usual hoodie. He didn't even bother to take his jeans off when he plopped down his bed earlier.

He took his pack of cigarettes and his lighter and went outside.

Sebastian walked over to his usual spot by the lake near his house, thankful that that wild man wasn't there this time. They didn't mind each other most of the time but sometimes, when old Linus was in the mood, he could be very chatty, which irritated Sebastian so much.

He lit up a cigarette and stared at the water. If there's one thing he'd appreciate in Pelican Town, it's the peaceful scenery, especially at nighttime. Whenever he'd take a night ride on his motorcycle into the city, it's always still busy at this hour. Still a lot of people walking about; noisy bars here and there. Too many lights, you can't even see the stars anymore.

He kept thinking about it: did he really want to move into the city? Or did he just wanted a place of his own? He looked up into the night sky. It was beautiful.

Sometimes he takes a peek in Maru's telescope, when she leaves it unattended outside. Space always looked beautiful in the countryside. Everything did. And most of all, it felt like home.

He took another hit on his cigarette and tried to think about it again, when he heard footsteps drawing near. "Damn, Linus at this hour?", He thought. He took a closer look - it was Elliot.

Somehow he felt compelled to talk to her. Maybe he should apologize.

Before Ellie could turn the corner she heard someone call up to her.

Seb: Hey.

Elliot turned around. Man...out of all people. For real?

Ellie: Hi.

Seb: You, uh, really went down the mines?

Sebastian asked, taking another hit at his cigarette.

Ellie: Yeah. Uh, sorry I can't really talk to you right now. Cigarette smoke and I don't mix well.

Seb: Oh! Sorry, sorry. I'll put it out.

Sebastian threw the remaining cigarette into the ground and put it out with his shoe.

Seb: You, uh, allergic?

Ellie: Not really.

Seb: Asthma?

Ellie: No, I just... Uh, I don't like the smell. Sorry, kinda stupid.

Seb: Nah, I get ya. Don't worry about it.

Ellie: Did you...need anything?

Seb: Yeah, nah, I just... Uh, wanted to apologize. Y'know for being...like, kind of a jerk. I dunno, I guess it just takes some time for me to warm up to strangers.

Ellie: That's fine. I understand.

Seb: Cool.

Ellie smiled at him. Sebastian just stared. Both were so awkward, it kind of hurt.

Seb: So, uh. Got far down in the mines?

Ellie: Um, yeah actually. I got to, I think around like floor 40 plus? I dunno, I forgot.

Seb: Cool.

Ellie: Oh, I picked up this pretty gem. Want it?

The gem glimmered faintly in the moonlight. It was a frozen tear.

Seb: Ohhhh. I love these things!

Sebastian rolled the gem around the palm of his hands, grinning.

Seb: Hey, thanks a lot.

Ellie: Sure thing! I'll, uh, get going now, alright?

Seb: Oh, yeah. Uh, take care, I guess. See ya around.

Ellie: Thanks. And uh, thanks for smiling at me, haha.

Elliot waved goodbye.

Sebastian stood there, kind of in a shock. Was he always so grumpy? Sheesh.

Seb: Man, I should loosen up a bit.

He looked at the gem in his hand.

Seb: Yeah. She's not so bad after all.

He pocketed the gem, then walked back home.

+++++

Author's Note:

Companion music to the Ellie and Seb talk sequence:

Bleached by Video Days

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

I said before, I will say it again– Victor and MC are the biggest dummies ever....

“To me, [...] you’re the only one who is the most important.”

✧ NOTE ✧ I truly was planning to translate this chapter around November, after I’m done with all my exams. But after reading the chapter, it almost felt like a crime not sharing these little snippets 🥺. Although, you might not be able to grasp just how much emotions lie in these little snippets if you aren’t caught up with Victor’s S2 storyline so far, especially CH 17, how much he has been through so far, and how much they have been through for each other~ ♡

Nevertheless, if you are open to spoilers, you can still read under the cut for some beautifully written sugary sadness. :'(

⌚ CONTAINS DETAILED SPOILERS FOR S2 CHAPTER 18 UNDER THE CUT. ⌚

—

I won’t be doing a full translation now. For the context of the snippets I want to share, I will note down the events in bullet point summaries:

MC wakes up in the prison cell.

When the scheduled alarm rings out, she tidies herself up and stubbornly holds onto the bars of the cell, completely ignoring the surveillance camera monitoring her movements.

A figure appears, who deliberately slows down his pace while passing by her cell and meets her gaze with absolutely no emotions showing in his eyes. But she keeps staring at his profile closely, and quietly calls out his name.

This has been the tacit everyday routine of sending Victor off to the interrogation room, ever since they were captured by NW again and kept in different cells. And this is the only time they get to see each other.

After seeing Victor off, MC is taken to the laboratory for an unknown drug injection, treating it as an experiment– just like every other day.

However, today MC loses her cool and asks the researcher some bombing question, who then injects a second dose of drug in her body– and this is the first time this happens.

As a result of the second dose of drug being injected– MC starts seeing strange images and one of them is Victor being interrogated.

She sees: Air from a strange white air-conditioning is wrapped around Victor, his always straight posture becomes very stiff. The frost forms on his eyebrows, eyelashes, hairs. In a matter of minutes, most of his skin is covered in red patch of rashes and bruises, his face pale, lips purple. He’s then asked about why him and MC destroyed the stone tablet and everything related. But Victor doesn’t budge an inch. After another failed interrogation, a NW member is beckoned, who draws out a circle out of thin air, and a flow of air-current clings to Victor’s body. Then from another drawn circle, a burst of water vapor surrounds Victor. All the frostbites, bruises, swollen marks gradually disappear, as though everything was MC’s illusion. But his face devoid of any blood or whatsoever still gives MC a sense of warmth amid the cold, reminding her that this is all real. And this process keeps repeating. 

When MC returns to her senses, she realizes she has been sent back to her cell. While she is praying hard that this wouldn’t come true, she isn’t sure whether what she saw was real or an illusion. Her urge of wanting to see Victor intensifies and she comes up with a plan.

According to her plan, she offers the NW Commanding Officer that she will tell them everything, if only they let her stay in the same cell with Victor and drops some tart on how she has learnt her tactics from the CEO. <Basically she gives back how in CH 17, the NW Commanding Officer picked on Victor and MC’s tacit understanding, and their exact same way of responding to any situation.>

MC leaves the room without looking back or waiting for a response from the other side.

BACK IN HER CELL (FULL TRANSLATION):

This entire section afterwards, till the end of this post, his voice is SO GODDAMN FRIGGIN’ SOFT, only listening to it would make you want to cry. 🤧

♫  Music in this section- [1001 Nights] ♫

I haven’t slept much all night, until the ear-piercing sound of the electric bell comes from outside the dark bars.

I climb up at the speed of lightning, finally waiting for this “special” moment.

I pat my cheeks, run my hand through my hairs so that I don’t appear too haggard, and walk quickly over to the bars.

Eyes passing through the narrow passage, at the end of the light source, I see that silhouette my heart has been longing for.

Victor walks towards me step by step as he carries the light on his back, the expression on his face unreadable.

But his steps remain as firm, and sure of having the victory within his hands– the same as any time in the past.

My heart floods with indescribable sourness. I stare at him intently, wanting and trying hard to see clearly every detail of his body.

I want to know whether he is concealing something from me again and secretly suffering alone.

The moment our eyes interlock, the brilliant rays that surge through those dark pupils of his eyes are the same as every time before, and I understand that this is the secret signal to tell each other we are safe and sound.

Perhaps because I look too unsightly at the moment, Victor slightly raises his eyebrows the instant he looks at me.

But he doesn’t stop his footsteps.

The instant the familiar body temperature brushes past me, my reason finally collapses. My body reaches out a hand before my thoughts can catch up, and grabs the hem of his shirt.

Feeling a momentary pause in his footsteps, I immediately wrap my arms around him firmly from behind, making him not being allowed to move.

The familiar warmth of his body emanates from underneath my palm, and I curl my fingers with yearning, as though only this way I can be slightly at ease.

MC: Victor, you....

Just as I’ve called out his name, the tip of my nose suddenly turns sour, and the words that I’ve wanted to say are blocked up in my throat.

I feel Victor’s figure startling slightly, but he doesn’t push me away.

I quietly glance towards the two NW team members not far away. They exchange looks with each other, but unexpectedly they don’t step forward to stop me either.

Instead, they avert their gazes pretending nothing has happened, and stand at a rather distant position.

He gently holds my hand, and asks softly.

Victor: What’s happened?

MC: You, are you okay? Are there any injuries?

Victor: No.

He replies very quickly and very firmly, as if generally wanting to make me feel relieved, and takes my hand that has been holding him tightly.

I can’t see his eyes, and yet am flustered for no reason.

MC: Really?

Victor: [His voice trembles like....]  What’s the point in lying to you about such things?

I hesitate for a moment, and suddenly feel the surrounding becoming exceptionally quiet. Looking up, I find that the red light on the monitor has truly stopped flickering–– Time has been suspended.

I knowingly embrace him even tighter, and pour out all the words in my mind that I’ve just choked up.

MC: Last night I.... saw some very strange images. It was like a dream, and yet it still seemed very terribly real.

MC: I saw them using something similar to a freezing Evol on you, and torturing you to extract confession....

MC: ....when you were injured, they healed you, and then continued to interrogate you. Just torturing you like this over and over.

Victor: ....

MC: I know this sounds very absurd. But I don’t know for some reason, I’ve continuously been feeling uneasy.

MC: I’m afraid that if you haven’t experienced this yet, then it might mean that you will experience in the future....

MC: Victor, I’m very worried about you....

The man in front of me hasn’t spoken all along. Feeling anxious, I tug on his shirt, wanting to make his body turn around.

However, even before I can exert any force, the hand that has been holding me suddenly clasps my right hand.

I suddenly recall that the back of my hand is full of bruises which were left behind during the experiment. I try to pull back my hand, but fail to do so.

Victor grabs me even harder, and carefully avoids those bruises.

Victor: What did they do?

The surrounding is too quiet, amplifying the bitter chill in his voice.

But even with such obvious ice-cold tone, my heart feels as if it’s being scalded all at once, and tears of pain fill the rims of my eyes.

Having being caved in the darkness for so long, a simple sentence of deep concern can feel like a salvation.

I lightly fold my fingers, and rub my hand against his as I try hard to keep my voice under control.

MC: They said that there are still a lot of toxic substances left in my body from the poisonous fog of the Hunter Game, and that it needs to be disposed of cleanly.

Victor: Nonsense.

Victor: So you....

MC: Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’m not dim-witted to let them manipulate me.

I hastily rush to explain before Victor can ask a question.

MC: I also felt that something was odd. So I noted down the dosage of medicine each time.

MC: Afterwards, as soon as we get out, I’ll ask the BS research department to look into it.

MC: And so far, I don’t seem to have experienced anything out of sorts.

I squeeze Victor’s palm in secret.

MC: Victor, you don’t need to worry about me. On the contrary, you must be careful with the NW’s people.

I raise my head to look at the back of the man in front of me. His tall figure completely envelopes me, as though he’s ready to charge and break through the battle for me at any given moment.

He is still silent, and I don’t know if he has believed my words or not. When I try to open my mouth to call out to him, I feel him turning over my hand again.

The scar left on the palm of my hand while smashing the stone tablet is delicately rubbed by his palm. Feeling a little itchy, I simply take hold of his fingers.

MC: This is fine too. They’ve already turned to scabs.

MC: You’ve to trust my speed of recovery. This little injury will heal completely very soon.

An extremely soft sigh falls into my ears, and Victor finally turns around. After looking at me fixedly for a while, he raises his hand and tucks my hair behind my ear.

Victor: Dummy. Why do you always leave yourself riddled with scars?

MC: I don’t....

I lift my eyes to meet his gaze. The cold light outlines his edges and contours distinctly, and only then do I find that he seems to have lost weight.

I don’t know why, those images that came pouring into my brain that night flashes through my mind––

Under Victor’s pale complexion, his lips were purple, and yet he didn’t timidly retreat in the slightest amount or degree.

That face gradually overlaps with the person before my eyes, and the rims of my eyes feel somewhat burning hot.

My intuition tells me that Victor certainly is concealing something from me, but perhaps now is not the time to ask questions.

I can’t help but lower my eyes, and sigh as I speak in a low voice.

MC: ....definitely it’s the person who doesn’t say anything– is more stupid.

Victor: What are you whispering about again?

MC: I was saying, you don’t even know how solid that stone tablet was. It took me quite a while in succeeding to smash it.

Victor: How could I not know?

A faint smile surges in those pair of calm eyes. Victor’s voice is a little hoarse as he speaks, but his tone is extraordinarily tender.

Victor cups my both hands, lowers his head, and softly blows on the wounds and bruises that have already formed into scabs.

His expression is tender and sincere. His thick eyelashes cast two shadows under his eyes, stirring softly along with each breath.

Warm lips seem to brush against my palm imperceptibly, and I can’t help curling my fingertips, a wave of numbness whirling over the bottom of my heart.

Victor: You’re right. It’s not you who’s stupid.

He lifts his eyes, and stares at me with a deep gaze, as earnestly as if he is making a solemn promise.

Victor: MC, wait for me for a few more days.

MC: Okay.

Even if there are many questions in my heart, I still don’t hesitate to answer.

Victor brushes the top of my head, and leaves directly afterwards, and the two NW team members tacitly follow closely behind him.

MC: [confused] .....

I seem to surmise something in hindsight.

Could it be that these two NW team members deliberately “turned a blind eye?”

Although it was an impulsive act of mine to block Victor’s path, but he didn’t appear to be making any secret of it in the least. Could it be that these two NW team members are his people?

Thinking of this, I loosen my breath a little. Perhaps, my worries are unnecessary.

After all, he is Victor. The Victor who is able to devise battle plan in a tent no matter what or how the situation is.

I slowly clench the palm of my hand, trying to firmly hold onto the warmth and strength that rests there.

◇──◆──◇──

MOVING ONTO THE NEXT SNIPPETーー

Late at night, a sudden explosion occurs, all the doors to the prison cells open. Terrible sounds of cries, pain, panic-- break out and lights go off. MC decides this is her best opportunity to be with Victor, and starts running to find him first.

Amid the darkness and chaos, she is suddenly pulled into a deep embrace and instantly realizes Victor was looking for her too.

After settling down a bit, Victor explains the escape plan, and things go as expected, but at a certain point– MC suddenly wants to look if the CORE related laboratory she saw in her memories is true or not.

While she recognizes it’s an impulsive move now and is afraid they don’t have time, Victor assures that they have 30 minutes before getting out of here. As they follow the route from MC’s memory, they truly find the laboratory and CORE related documents, and the test subject was MC herself.

They suddenly realize that a researcher is hiding in the corner and observing them. They pretend to threaten him and get out the truth from him. However, he suddenly makes an unexpected movement.

MC instantly remembers from her memories that there is an alarm button which the researcher is planning to push, enabling Victor to stop him on time.

The researcher gets startled, and asks MC about how she knew about this. However, MC’s brain right now is immersed in a complete different thought:

♫ Music in this section: [Long Dream]  ♫

I slowly open my mouth, my chaotic train of thoughts gradually becoming clear––

Those images that I’ve seen are all real, the laboratory is real, the alarm button is real....

Victor in the interrogation room is also real.

Feeling Victor’s gaze on me out of the corner of my eyes, an indescribable wave of sadness occupies my heart.

I look up at the person in front of me with a burst of dull ache pounding in my chest.

Those cruel scenes truly happened. When I didn’t know, Victor endured everything alone but chose to not tell me anything.

Victor, you are the dummy!

I bite my lip tightly, and try hard to calm down my emotions as I raise my hand, and snap my fingers at the researcher.

MC: [to the researcher]  Don’t ask so many questions. Just get a good night’s sleep first.

The researcher looks a bit sluggish, and loses his consciousness very soon.

Perhaps being relieved of the danger for the time being, I quickly walk back to Victor’s side and tug on his wrist, half forcing him to face me.

I stare at him, and he also looks back at me with some astonishment.

Victor: Why are you crying?

MC: ....crying in anger.

Victor: ....

MC: Victor, I know that you are very strong, and that you can confidently undertake any decision or risk.

MC: But don’t underestimate me either. I can be very strong too.

MC: I may not be able to catch up with your footsteps so quickly, but I’ll still keep running. I’ll try very hard with all my might.

MC: I don’t want to be a dummy who doesn’t know anything, nor am I so vulnerable that I can only stay inside your harbor.

MC: So, trust me a little more too, just like I’ve always trusted you.

I make the statement in all righteousness. He lowers his head as he listens earnestly to my words. So much so that, he even laughs softly for a bit.

MC: I’m very serious. Why are you still laughing!

Victor: In that case, want me to pull a long face like you?

Accompanied by a slight sigh, he suddenly stretches out his hands, and gently takes me into his arms.

Victor: Although the process has been a bit torturous, but the outcome of some things are more important.

MC: No, it’s not.

MC: To me, neither the process nor the outcome is important. Neither the next second nor the last second is important.

MC: You’re the only one, who is the most important.

MC: So, aside from me, you must also store the words I’ve said in your heart.

Victor: So, aside from you, I must also store the words you’ve said in my heart?

To my surprise, he slowly repeats my words once again.

MC: ....That’s right!

MC: No, put me backward in the line. But my words––

Victor: Got it.

Victor: Anyway, the human heart is very large. There’s sufficient space to store everything within it.

Warm finger pads rest close to my cheek, gently wiping away the moisture from the rims of my eyes.

Victor: Now we only have fifteen minutes left. Are you going to stand here looking silly and keep crying, or are you going to walk with me?

I sniffle, and withdraw from his arms.

MC: We walk!

Victor breaks into a laughter, picks up that report, and pulls me along as we leave the laboratory at a fast pace.

—

ON THE FINAL NOTE: 

I’m really really really sorry if you felt confused while reading the snippets, because I didn’t delve into the details, and I did leave out many important information needed to understand what’s happening, and of course the chapter is very long and a loads of stuffs happen, what I shared is a clip worth 5 minutes LOL. Unfortunately, I can’t get on with the translation until my exam ends in November... Hopefully after that, I will be able to do it with all the freedom in the world! (*´ω｀*)

—

[serialee]

◈ Love in the Dark ◈ Choi Jongho

↬ Genre: Angst - mafia au || Wc: 1K

☁ mafia.jongho x mafia.fem.oc (ft.ot7)

💔 guns || blades || arrows || death - blood || nothing explicit.

station 1 || (ii) || (iii) || (iv) ||

↬ Net: @ficscafe | @k-library | @kpclub | @prism-nw || 'NEVERLAND MASTERLIST' || 'NAVIGATION' |

If you exclude her little clique in her mafia, she hasn't really got any friends and even still prefers to stick to herself a lot. Her gang knew she and Wonbin were an unofficial item. If she wasn't alone, high chances she would be with Wonbin, hanging out.

Life for her wasn't perfect but she has long gotten used to it. Her parents left her when she needed them most, first her father then her mother. When she hadn't got anywhere to go, her gang found her and Wonbin convinced the higher ups to take her as their own.

They agreed but she had a price to pay. She couldn't live under their wings for free. They tried to put her as one of the cooks, but she washed rice with dish soap. They put her out at the little garden, but she didn't understand the difference between vegetables and weed. They put her in scrubs and a bucket of water but she kept knocking the picture frames down to the floor. Just when the higher ups felt like giving up, Wonbin offered to train her, to be a fighter the gang.

This was her redemption arc that they long waited for. No she wasn't good at first try, but she learned fairly quick and narrowed down to refine her skills in what she was good at. Target locking. Her aim was exceptional with throwing blades and arrows at the enemy, whoever was on her visual lock.

Her gang joked that it was her body's subconscious way of dealing with her past pain as she seemed to always have a different aura when she is cutting air tension with her blades or her arrows. She could not care less what they had to say. Despite her tendency to act cold towards others, Wonbin knew she had a soft heart. She was warm when no one is looking, caring for them behind curtains.

Since they took care of her when she felt down, she will forever in their debt. Protecting the 2nd closest thing to a blood family, she promised them.

But has she succeeded in keeping her one promise as she lays in the pool of blood belonging to her brothers? Can she hold her head up high if she was asked who painted her white shirt red?

The answer is no. She couldn't.

Because she had not succeed her promise and because it was their blood that stained her white shirt. It was all because she lost focus when she saw him that made a few of her gang members who was nearest to her jump out, spreading wide to take the bullets for her. Once again they protected her.

Her knees hurt, having fallen to the ground unexpectedly but it was not worth the death of her brothers, her friends. Her hands pushed her body off the floor and crawl to the bodies of her gang, cradling them in her embrace, telling them it'll be alright, telling them that the medics were on their way.

Her tears violently bounced off the walls when she saw Wonbin's body falling to the ground, some distance away, in front of her. He was dead. He got shot. The figure between them was one from the rival gang. Dark black hair and a thick physique. She longer was thinking, her emotions got the best of her. She cried for the loss of all of them. She cried for the loss of Wonbin.

She finally cried. When she heard other voices approaching her way, she tried to flee as best as she could. She had no weapons on her. Her best bets were always blades and arrows but she had none left. Her only choice was to flee the scene. The best thing she could do for her gang was to escape, alive.

Tearing a piece of cloth, she made a mask and tied it to her face, allowing only her eyes to be seen. With one last look at the bloodbath scene in front of her, she turned her back and let her 2 feet take her to safety.

'whoever you are, I'll find you' the little voice in her spoke.

'and I'll kill you' the little voice in her vowed.

"Jongho!" he heard Yunho calling out from him. He panned to his right and he saw Yunho, Seonghwa and San running towards him. While Yunho and San stopped when they saw Jongho, Seonghwa rushed over, inspecting all angles of Jongho.

"You're ok right? What happened? Are you hurt?" Seonghwa asked the younger man.

"I'm fine. Anyways, whoever fled, fled. Whoever didn't, died" he spoke, taking in his surroundings. It wasn't a pretty sight. Battles fields were never a pretty sight.

"Did you ... did you kill this man, Jongho?" asked San, inspecting Wonbin's body.

"Oh yea. That's one weird thing. Which one of you shot him?" Jongho's 3 older brothers looked at him like they couldn't believe him.

"What are you on about?" Yunho tapped the shorter one's back. San shook his head.

"No one from our side shot him. We fought hand to hand combat" sighed Seonghwa. He knew this was just another mess to clean up.

"It wasn't you Jongho?" San asked, to which Jongho replied, "I'm not stupid. If I wanted to shoot him, I wouldn't have killed him. If I killed them, it wouldn't do any of us good, genius".

"He has a point. Killing them wouldn't give us answers" Yunho nodded, agreeing with Jongho as San paced around anxiously. He wasn't anxious about the killing, rather upset. He's upset that he was going to arrange cleaning up the place & he didn't want to do that.

That was true. It was basically confirmed that the actual killer was none of the Ateez mafia. So who was behind it? Time to turn to the thinking board. Whoever did this, came short since they didn't know Ateez didn't come with weapons & assumed their game plan incorrectly.

"wait" they all stopped in the tracks, "why weren't you killed?"

Tags: @yunkiwii | @a-soft-hornytiny | @yungisstar1117 | @galaxteez | @multidreams-and-desires | @seongsangsgf | @yunhofingers | @woowommy | @woahhwa | @ddeonghwva | @little-precious-baby | @vocalyunho | @hanatiny | @twancingyunhoe | @mychicagodaddyjohnny | @yunhobabygurl | @buwuyu | @mingi-ivity | @hwalysm | @yuyusmist |

↬ Let me know if you'd like to be added into // taken of tags.

↬ My other works are listed under 'neverland' | 'navigation'.

[sylvia-forest]

[CN] S2 Main story Chapter 22 - Shaw and MC (Part 1)

⚡This post contains detailed spoilers for a content which is not released in EN!⚡

[Note: This content was translated with the help of Google translate and @cheri-translates]

⊹ ♡ Previously ♡ ⊹

After Kiro's part, MC went to the old BS building to look for Anole (from season 1, has the Evol to "diguise" himself).

MC showed him a picture that she wants to look like her and she told him that she had looked through his files that his Evol can also act on other people.

After disguising herself as a cleaning lady she infiltrate the NW to find out clues related to Core.

—

[Sister Wang and Xiao Liu]

—

—

In the NW freight elevator, the face of an elderly woman was vaguely reflected on the stainless steel elevator door.

I clenched the handle of the cleaning cart, and when the elevator stopped, I walked out quietly.

The white ground and walls are glowing with the cold light. There is no difference between now and when I left last time. The solemn atmosphere made me subconsciously hold my breath.

If I want to find CORE clues faster, NW seems to have the most information.

Even though there were 10,000 resistances and fears in my heart, I still gritted my teeth and came here. There is not much time left for me, and I have no reason to be afraid of anything.

MC: The K area lounge seems to be here.

I stopped, squeezed the mask on the bridge of my nose, picked up the schedule from the side of the cleaning truck, and carefully checked today's schedule.

Lounge in Area K, person in charge: Wang Li.

I took a deep breath and slid out a mini electronic screen from the cuff of my right arm, confirmed that "40%" was displayed on it, and then solemnly knocked on the door in front of me.

I whispered in my heart: Sister Wang, don't worry, even if I borrow your identity, I will help you complete the work without causing you any trouble.

?.?: Sister Wang, you are here.

A young-faced NW team member looked at me and greeted me warmly.

I hurriedly nodded to him, just about to summon the courage to walk in, but sensitively caught a refreshing mint scent.

I subconsciously turned my head, and a figure was walking towards me from the depths of the corridor at a lazy pace. He raised his eyes and looked at me in a circle, raising his eyebrows.

?.?: Sister Wang, why do you look like you have a bad stomach?

My eyes widened in shock, and I stayed where I was.

How could Shaw be here!

—

Shaw: Why don't you speak, did the barbecue from last night really mess up your stomach?

What the hell is this man talking about! What is going on with this familiar attitude?

I thought about it quickly, smiled dryly and waved my hand in response, and then skillfully took out the cleaning tool from the side of the cleaning truck.

Shaw: Okay, you're doing fine.

Shaw didn't ask further, but naturally walked past me and stepped straight into the lounge.

Before I could react, a slightly enthusiastic greeting sounded in my ears, which sounded artificial and harsh.

Shaw: Brother Zhao, good morning, I went back late last night. My sister-in-law didn't bother you, did she?

Shaw: Eh! Brother Zhang, does your shoulder still hurt?

MC: …….

I paused with my hand holding the cart, cautiously observing their actions.

Although I am very clear, Shaw has always done his own thing, as if he knows everyone and can grasp information from various places.

But watching him talk and laugh so well with these NW officers so well, I still have countless doubts.

Why is he here? What is his relationship with NW?

?.?: Xiao Liu, you are late.

The NW team member who had just greeted me took a few steps forward and patted Shaw on the shoulder. He immediately scratched his head in embarrassment.

Shaw: Sorry, sorry, the training for these two days is a bit tiring, I promise that there will be no next time.

The humble and polite tone made me stunned for a moment, but I quickly captured a key message.

Putting together all the things that are not right now, a guess formed in my mind.

Shaw was able to appear here “naturally“, perhaps also borrowing the identity of others, it is estimated that he is what they call “Xiao Liu”.

Last time I was at the Wish Club, he seemed to be investigating GR and the people who burned the antique shop. Did he come to NW under the disguise of their identity to investigate something?

— For a while, I was a little speechless.

I couldn't help but turn my head to look at him. The flamboyant hair and the eyebrows that were always open somehow coincided with that distant memory.

This person seems to have remained the same, but there is something different.

Having grown accustomed to the unhesitant way he deals with things, and how he didn’t put himself in danger this time, I find it a little abrupt to get used to.

Shaw: Sister Wang, why do you keep looking at me?

MC: Because you stepped on the garbage bag.

I quickly looked away, pretending to be disgusted, beckoning him to stand further, and put the garbage bag at his feet into the cleaning truck.

?.?: It's time for the shift.

An older man stood up, following his command, everyone quickly opened the closet and prepared to change their uniforms.

?.?: Sister Wang, just finished cleaning up this place, please.

MC: Oh, okay.

I put away the cleaning tools wittily, and pushed the car out of the lounge.

—

Shaw: Sister Wang, I didn't scare you, did I?

MC: No, no you didn't.

I turned sideways and motioned for him to go first, but he stopped beside me.

MC: Is there a problem?

—

Shaw: No, it just so happens that I will go this way too.

MC: ……..

I leaned to the right, slowed down and moved forward slowly, trying to distance myself from him.

Who knew that Shaw would actually follow me, he whistled and put his hands behind his head, as if walking leisurely in a courtyard.

I pretended to speed up my pace inadvertently, but that random whistle always followed me closely.

Did he recognize me? Impossible, this Evol will not be easily exposed.

Could it be that this new cleaning aunt has a problem? But I remember that when checking the information, there was no doubt about her identity.

So what exactly does Shaw want to do?

—

Shaw: Sister Wang, why do you look angry to me? Did I say something wrong? You were very kind to me yesterday.

MC: Haha, nothing.

MC: I said Xiao Liu, I'm going to the trash room, shouldn't you go on your patrol?

He raised his eyebrows and looked at me from the bottom up. Just as he was about to say something, a person came out at the end of the corridor.

?.?: Xiao Liu, what are you doing here? Hurry up, let's go together.

Shaw: Coming.

I secretly breathed a sigh of relief, avoiding his last inquiring gaze, and strode forward.

MC: …..So close.

I didn't stop until the sound of footsteps behind me went away, and looked back at the empty corridor.

Shaw should have his own purpose for appearing here. The current situation may not be suitable for confessing his identity to me, and maybe it will put us both in danger.

I can only ask him after I leave here.

There was a vibration from my wrist, and I quietly tidied up the cleaning cart, revealing the mini electronic screen at the cuffs again.

— The progress bar shows “100%, topographical reading completed”

—

—

Following the directions on the map, I quickly reached the door of the NW Information Archives.

According to Zehn's intelligence, NW has an important meeting today, and all middle and high-level executives need to attend.

The strategist tells me that this might be the only opportunity, and that I have to seize it.

I took a deep breath, raised my hand to pretend to confirm the time, and quietly pressed the button on the side of the "watch".

With two slight beeps, the red dot on the camera went out instantly and stopped working.

I neatly took out a pair of gloves with Aunt Cleaning's fingerprints from my pocket, and pressed my palm to the unlocking touch panel.

"Work number: F033, type of work: cleaner, grade: F, identity authentication is completed, the door has been opened.

With the broadcast of the electronic sound of the panel, the door slowly opened, and the information archive was dark, and the outline could only be seen with the help of the lights in the corridor.

Just as the clues from the investigation showed, this archive room is pretty old, and it’s no wonder why the cleaners can enter and leave whenever they want to.

The surface of the steel file rack has been rusted, and the wood-colored desks piled up against the wall are covered with white cloth.

Since I can't get the confidential information obtained with advanced permissions, maybe I can find what I need from these abandoned materials.

I pushed the cleaning cart into the archives room, took out a flashlight, and walked to the file rack in the front row.

I casually flip through a few documents. Aside from incomprehensible calculations and experimental reports related to Evol, there are no new discoveries.

I was about to turn over ー shelves, but my vision swept to the top of the file rack not far away. There was a box with heavy folders.

I tried to stand on my tiptoes, but my fingertips were always half a inch away from the box.

I lowered my head to look for something to step on, but a breath suddenly passed by my ear, and a familiar chuckle fell into my ear.

?.?: Do you need help?

The hair on my back stood up instantly, and I turned my head mechanically.

The man held the flashlight against his chin, and a face distorted by the beam of light zoomed in front of my eyes with great eagerness.

—

Shaw: Did you find anything useful?

—

⚡Next part: here

—

♡  ⊹    °     .　 𖧷 　°     .　 ♡  ⊹

[theodorevg923]

I've realised something... Consider: Foxy and Roxy.......pairing name....... Seadog. They be the salty seadog pair

~~Monty-Glasses-Roxy

I like it! I've mostly been calling them SeaPup as Roxy is 15-17 during most of their adventures. So technically Roxy's still a pup during their seafaring adventures.

But for outside of my SeaPup Adventures as I have since titled the short series I'ma eventually write, I absolutely love SeaDog!

So far this is what I've figured out in regards to the timeline:

1996 - Foxy stops Roxy's attempt at suicide and she becomes a stowaway to escape her hometown on the NW Oregon/SW Washington coast.

1997 - Adventures continue between Roxy and Foxy on the high seas as the megaplex has yet to be built.

1998 - Megaplex is built so adventures become sporadic vacations for Roxy as she now runs Roxy's Raceway.

2000 - One of Roxy 'n Foxy's seafaring adventures ends in tragedy. Foxy is severely injured in the accident and Roxy blames herself for what happened. Afterwards their relationship is on rocky seas, with Roxy having severe PTSD and trauma from the accident.

2001 - Roxy and Chica had finally formed their deep relationship through the aftermath. And Chica helps Roxy repair her broken relationship with Foxy.

2003 - The megaplex is expanded upon Bonnie's retirement from the band. Bonnie gains the bowling alley and bar, and Foxy is gifted Pirate Cove as the injuries he sustained during the accident make adventures on the the high seas hard on him.

I have the aftermath for the accident, injuries and such, figured out. But I'm still in the planning stage of exactly how the accident went down.

[misssophiachase]

Thanks to the talented Nicole @romanoffsbite for this amazing cover (P.S. I miss you)

Synopsis: British Ambassador to the USA, Klaus Mikaelson, needs a babysitter to look after his daughter. Enter nanny, Caroline Forbes.

Read from the Start HERE

Only one chapter to go, thank you SO MUCH for reading everyone : ) 

Chapter 10: Carte Blanche

British Embassy, 3100 Massachusetts Avenue NW - (One month later)

“So, I think we’re all organised,” she assured them, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. “I don’t think delaying the ball has had any negative impact and all arrangements are still in place. Although, if the Thai and South African Ambassador cause any problems on my watch I swear to God I’ll...”

“Thank heavens for that,” Elijah offered, his sister sending him a thunderous look in response. “I mean I was concerned it’d start World War III if they had strong words over appetisers.”

“Who invited him?”

“Well, I suppose given this is my house, I’ll take responsibility for the invitation. He’s not funny, granted...” Klaus offered.

“He also has too many opinions,” Rebekah shot back without a beat.

“His name is Elijah, apparently you are related, go figure,” Kol teased, then noted her look of disdain. “Delaying the reception was the right thing to do given the circumstances, there is no way we’d be having any celebration if Enzo was…”

“Okay, point made,” Rebekah interrupted stoically, finally taking a seat. “We all know what happened, no need to rehash unnecessary details.”

Klaus knew she’d struggled for weeks but every time he’d offered comfort his sister had reacted exactly how he’d envisaged. The Mikaelsons weren’t so comfortable with feelings but given recent events it was causing more emotions than usual.

Enzo was one of his best friends and seeing him in intensive care was incredibly sobering and something he’d struggled to get out of his head since. His coma had stretched out for days, his survival not guaranteed until he came back to them, even if Rebekah wasn’t acting like it.

After being discharged from the hospital, he was rehabilitating at home. Darcy had insisted on visiting every day and Klaus knew it brightened his mood. Kol and Elijah had been regular visitors too but Rebekah had chosen to stay away throwing herself into work and rescheduling his welcome reception.

“So, you will attend with Caroline and…” she murmured, reading through her list.

“Excuse me?”

“I just assumed you’d be going together given you two are...”

“Rebekah clearly missed the memo,” Elijah offered quietly.

Read the rest on AO3 HERE

[jackoshadows]

Do you think that Daenerys will burn kings landing in the books? She did it on the show and she has to show the strength of her dragons in Westeros like in Essos.

For the answer to this question, I would direct you to Dany blogs that dissect her story arc using the books. You could read their theories and speculations based on the books and come to your own conclusion on this.

As for my speculations on this,

1. Dany has done nothing so far in the last 5 books that leads towards her going on a random rampage in KL. She has shown a lot of concern and care towards the civilians and common folk of Essos. More than the likes of Robb Stark for example.

2. Dany burning down KL would turn her into her father. This goes against what I think is GRRM’s message in the series -  that the younger generation can rise above their birth and the societal biases against them.

3. That said, I do think that the author means for us to question and speculate, along with Daenerys, if she would turn into her father. This is an internal conflict that the character is struggling with and a part of her story. More on this below the cut.*

4. I think there will be a second dance of dragons between Young Griff/Aegon and Daenerys in KL. Going back to the original outline, the second book of the original trilogy - titled the Dance of Dragons -  was supposed to be about Dany’s conquest of Westeros. There will be casualties in this war. GRRM has been explicit about the consequences of war on the small folk due to the WOT5K.  Robb Stark may have had a just cause but innocent people suffered and died due to his war for independence. Even with Stannis’ march to Winterfell, we see a 14 year old soldier being burned to death as punishment for cannibalizing a corpse because he was so hungry and there’s no food. War is brutal.

5. Dany can win KL without massacring thousands. The Lannisters did it in the books when they sacked KL and no one - not even the honorable Ned Stark - complained about it. She could have done it on the show and won - except, suddenly pacifist Tyrion kept advising against it. In fact if the dragons act as a nuclear deterrent, there will be less casualties. Aegon the conqueror won the North without a single casualty.

5. Westeros is already in a bad way and winter has come to KL by the end of the fifth book. Dany will end up in charge of a war torn Westeros down south. By which time, the North is overrun, Winterfell is lost and the survivors head south. IMO, the Others will not be defeated at Winterfell in 30 minutes like on the show. They are the central antagonists and the last book will mostly be about the rest of Westeros uniting against them. Dany will acknowledge the central premise of the series - ‘ When dead men come hunting in the night, do you think it matters who sits the Iron Throne?’  and joins Jon, Bran, Arya and others to defeat the army of the dead.

6. I have no idea how her story will end in the books. Considering she dies on the show and if it’s the same in the books, I would think that if she goes out she will go out a hero and not a villain. There’s a lot of prophecies associated with her and I would speculate that her character is instrumental in defeating the Others. Fire and Ice and all that.

7. And speculate is all we can do, considering we will never get the last book and a conclusion to GRRM’s version of the story.

* Now to expand a little bit on the point number 3 above.

I would like to comment on a line of thought/discourse regarding Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow and Targaryen madness.

I have seen a few posts from time to time making the assertion that if one speculates on mad queen Dany, but does not do the same for Jon Snow, then this is sexism. I disagree.

Now, if one is making that argument that by genetics, Daenerys Targaryen is designed to go mad and she will go mad, burn down KL and die while Jon goes on to be King or goes into exile etc. then yes, this argument would indeed be sexist, IMO. If we are going to speculate based on Targaryen genetics, then, not much is different between Jon and Dany. They are both Targaryens. Dany is not fire proof and neither is Jon. While Dany has some strongly prophetic dragon dreams, there are indications that Jon’s dreams are prophetic as well.

“Sleep came at last, and with it nightmares. He dreamed of burning castles and dead men rising unquiet from their graves”

He has dreamed of Winterfell burning, of Ned being executed, of being told that he is not a Stark by the old kings of winter in the crypts where his mother is buried and of Bran as a weirwood.

Jon’s dream here is very similar to what Dany dreams of:

“Snow,” an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. As the dead men reached the top of the Wall he sent them down to die again. - Jon Snow

That night she dreamt that she was Rhaegar, riding to the Trident. But she was mounted on a dragon, not a horse. When she saw the Usurper’s rebel host across the river they were armored all in ice, but she bathed them in dragonfire and they melted away like dew and turned the Trident into a torrent.- Daenerys Targaryen

We know zombie ice spiders are going to be a thing. And the armor of black ice that Jon references here could be Euron Greyjoy’s black valyrian steel armor.

So if Dany is going to go mad because of genetics, then there is every chance that Jon will as well.

But from a narrative point of view, the author wants us to question if Dany will go the same way as her father. The mad king Aerys III is a part of Dany’s story. She questions if she is going to become her father. Other characters – allies and enemies – do the same. It’s a conflict that Dany wrestles with as she comes to terms with her Targaryen identity. It’s an obstacle she faces as she takes on both enemies and friends.

"Freedom to starve?" asked Dany sharply. "Freedom to die? Am I a dragon, or a harpy?" Am I mad? Do I have the taint? (ASOS, Daenerys VI)

A shadow. A memory. No one. She was the blood of the dragon, but Ser Barristan had warned her that in that blood there was a taint. Could I be going mad? They had called her father mad, once. (ADWD, Daenerys II)

The old knight did not blink. "Your father is called 'the Mad King' in Westeros. Has no one ever told you?"

"Viserys did." The Mad King. "The Usurper called him that, the Usurper and his dogs." The Mad King. "It was a lie."

"Why ask for truth," Ser Barristan said softly, "if you close your ears to it?" He hesitated, then continued. "I told you before that I used a false name so the Lannisters would not know that I'd joined you. That was less than half of it, Your Grace. The truth is, I wanted to watch you for a time before pledging you my sword. To make certain that you were not . . ."

". . . my father's daughter?" If she was not her father's daughter, who was she?

". . . mad," he finished. "But I see no taint in you."

And then there is the discourse that her enemies start about her being mad. The propaganda that she is just like her father. Propaganda that will no doubt be also used in Westeros.

The clever Volantene swordsman who always seemed to have his nose poked in some crumbly scroll, thought the dragon queen both murderous and mad. "Her khal killed her brother to make her queen. Then she killed her khal to make herself khaleesi. She practices blood sacrifice, lies as easily as she breathes, turns against her own on a whim. She's broken truces, tortured envoys … her father was mad too. It runs in the blood." (ADWD, The Windblown)

Madness and the mad king is nowhere in Jon’s story arcs or narrative themes. GRRM still thinks that R+L=J is some big secret and was so impressed that Benioff and Weiss figured it out he gave them the show. The author does not question whether Jon is going to become a mad Targaryen with a fascination for burning people to death.

Jon’s internal conflicts and the problems he has to surmount are different in nature. He is a bastard born of ‘lust and deceit’. If we want a connection here to the Targaryens that explores Jon’s narrative arc, then there is the Blackfyre rebellion. Daemon Blackfyre’s attempt to usurp the throne is used as an example in Westeros to be wary of all bastards, noble or base born.

So if the speculation is that Dany is going to turn into her father and become the mad queen, then the narrative equivalent for Jon would be that he would be a deceitful usurper who takes Winterfell from his trueborn siblings.

And this is something that is explored in Jon’s story.

When Stannis offers Winterfell to Jon, the only reason he does not accept is because of his oaths as a NW brother and his reluctance to burn down the heart trees in Winterfell. But in his heart, he wants it.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger … he could feel it. — Jon Snow, ASOS

Just as Dany wrestles with whether she will turn into her father, Jon wrestles with his feelings of wanting Winterfell and feeling ashamed of those feelings.

His dreams in regards to this are interesting:

The world dissolved into a red mist. Jon stabbed and slashed and cut. He hacked down Donal Noye and gutted Deaf Dick Follard. Qhorin Halfhand stumbled to his knees, trying in vain to staunch the flow of blood from his neck. "I am the Lord of Winterfell," Jon screamed. It was Robb before him now, his hair wet with melting snow. Longclaw took his head off. Then a gnarled hand seized Jon roughly by the shoulder. He whirled …- Jon XII, ADWD

Jon literally beheads Robb in his dreams.

There is a lot of speculation here that after he comes back from the dead,  we are going to get a darker Jon Snow who is going to go after Winterfell and not care much about the trueborn siblings ahead of him in the queue. We could see conflict between Jon and Rickon or Jon and Sansa. The original outline hinted that Jon and Bran would not get along.

And just like Dany faces the ‘Mad Queen’ propaganda because of Aerys III, Jon too faces the biased prejudice against bastards because of the actions of Daemon Blackfyre.  While prejudice against bastards existed before then, the Blackfyres are often used as an example to caution against them.

Catelyn’s hatred for Jon Snow is based on the fear that someday he would usurp and take away Winterfell from her children.

“Not unless he’s legitimized by a royal decree,” said Robb. “There is more precedent for that than for releasing a Sworn Brother from his oath.”

“Precedent,” she said bitterly. “Yes, Aegon the Fourth legitimized all his bastards on his deathbed. And how much pain, grief, war, and murder grew from that? I know you trust Jon. But can you trust his sons? Or their sons? The Blackfyre pretenders troubled the Targaryens for five generations, until Barristan the Bold slew the last of them on the Stepstones. If you make Jon legitimate, there is no way to turn him bastard again. Should he wed and breed, any sons you may have by Jeyne will never be safe.” - Catelyn, ASoS

Similarly the Blackfish – having not even met Jon Snow – distrusts him.

"I will permit you to take the black. Ned Stark's bastard is the Lord Commander on the Wall."

The Blackfish narrowed his eyes. "Did your father arrange for that as well? Catelyn never trusted the boy, as I recall, no more than she ever trusted Theon Greyjoy. It would seem she was right about them both..." - Jaime Lannister, AFfC

The existing prejudices against bastards in Westeros is strong.

"Trueborn children are made in a marriage bed and blessed by the Father and Mother, but bastards are born of lust and weakness." - Jon Snow

Orys Baratheon was a baseborn half brother to Lord Aegon, it was whispered, and the Storm King would not dishonor his daughter by giving her hand to a bastard. The very suggestion enraged him.

Go away, I wanted only Freys up here, the King in the North has no interest in base stock.— Walder Frey to little Walda Rivers

Bastard children were born from lust and lies, men said; their nature was wanton and treacherous. Once Jon had meant to prove them wrong, to show his lord father he could as good a true son as Robb Stark -  Jon Snow

So both Jon and Dany face internal conflicts and the author wishes to interrogate if Dany can overcome her own self doubts with respect to her father and society’s opinions of her and if Jon can overcome his desires and personal ambition for Winterfell and society’s opinions of bastards as untrustworthy and deceitful.

If a reader is therefore making the argument that Dany will become the mad queen like her father and burn down everyone – they should also rightfully be arguing for Jon turning against his family for a selfish power grab and essentially turning into Daemon Blackfyre.

Remember how Daemon took the Targaryen sigil with colors reversed – a black dragon on red giving him the nickname ‘The Black Dragon’

Jon was referred to as the ‘White Wolf’ on the show and as per the books, two bastards have reversed the sigils. Jon’s direwolf Ghost is white and he would therefore have a white wolf on a grey background as opposed to the Stark grey direwolf on a white background.

The sexism arises when Dany is singled out for turning into exactly what her enemies expect her to be, while the Starks overcome societal prejudices and expectations and end up the heroes. That, while Dany turns into her father, Jon Snow continues to love his Stark family (i.e Sansa Stark) so much and would sacrifice everything for them.

The show’s thesis and final message for these Targaryens is that they cannot rise above their birth and are exactly what society makes of them. That their final destiny is decided from birth and that they cannot change it no matter how much they tried. Daenerys turned into her father, randomly burned down KL for no reason and massacred thousands. Jon Snow pretends to support her, gets close to her, deceives her and kills her. He becomes a kinslayer, a queenslayer, a traitor – deceitful and untrustworthy and is exiled. It was an utterly nihilistic ending for house Targaryen.

I strongly believe that GRRM is not heading in this direction for these characters. It would be very disappointing if this is what he intends for them. It would indeed be sexist if GRRM wrote Dany as turning into her father, while Jon remains good and faithful to his family. From my reading and interpretation of these books, the story is about these underdogs triumphing over their internal conflicts. The conclusion of this tale would be Dany not turning into the mad queen, Jon not turning into a deceitful traitor, Arya not fleeing Westeros because she does not belong, Bran becoming king despite being a cripple.

But that is the final answer. In the meantime, GRRM means to explore these characters and their narrative themes and conflicts. In that context, it’s valid to question and theorize whether a possible direction for Dany’s story is her becoming her father. Five books in there is nothing to support this theory, but it is a theme that GRRM is interested in examining for the character of Daenerys Targaryen.

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Inside Scoop (Chapter One)

Chapter One - The Greatest Regret of my Life

Previous Chapter < - > Next Chapter

Chapter Summary: Dahlia Silvers is on her way to work when she makes a horrifying discovery that will change her life... and lead to her getting tangled up with the Behavioral Analysis Unit.

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of corpse (violent death), police interactions (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 2417

A/N: Yay new story!! Ok, two quick things I need to mention before we get into it: one, I have absolutely no clue about the roads in DC and I merely listed two ones that I knew were on a corner. And two: I also have no clue where the Washington Post office is, and am not trying to make any claims about the company in any way, it’s just a reputable news place in DC so I wanted to use it for the story (please don’t sue me Jeff Bezos). Ok that’s all - hope you enjoy!! :)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was raining.

I knew we were supposed to get a short shower this morning, but I still groaned as I walked out into the disgusting downpour bombarding the streets of DC.

The only positive thing about days like this was the lack of people on the sidewalk. Generally everyone was dashing to the subway before they could get too soaked, but I only lived a few blocks from work. So I elected to walk.

Usually, that was fine. I had my umbrella, and I got into the office in about fifteen minutes, give or take a few. After that I got my writing assignments for that day within ten, and I got to work.

Usually.

The smell hit me first. Initially, I thought it was just rotten fruit, or something similar that someone had thrown out, but the closer I got the more it smelled rancid, impossible to describe.

The next thing I noticed was the bag.

The woman’s purse had been thrown from her hand. Or maybe it had fallen, I had no way of knowing. All I knew was that I saw it sitting on the sidewalk at the mouth of the alleyway I was about to walk past.

One of the greatest regrets of my life was picking up that purse.

Because when I picked it up, I had to turn and see who it belonged to. And that’s when I saw her.

I wasn’t sure how long the blood had been pooled around her body, but it was dried on the concrete. Her head was twisted at an unnatural angle, revealing the deep slash wound across her throat. Her hands were bloodied, and I had no way of knowing if it was her blood or someone else’s. All I knew was that this woman was dead, and there was no way in hell it was due to natural causes.

The combination of the sight in front of me and the smell of decay permeating the air sent a wave of nausea through my body, and my eyes watered as I turned away, vomiting on the sidewalk not far from where the woman laid. I fumbled to pull my phone out of my pocket, my hands shaking as I dialed 911.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“Someone’s dead. It’s a woman, she - I was on my way to work, and I just found her - holy shit…”

“Ok ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down please, everything will be ok. Can you tell us where you are right now?”

“Yeah, yes,” I forced myself to breathe, stepping out to the edge of the sidewalk in an attempt to read the street sign in front of me. “Right by the corner of 9th and G Street NW. There’s an alley a few feet away from the intersection. She’s…” I turned back to the woman’s body for a moment before forcing my eyes away again. “I don’t know what happened. It looks bad, I -”

“It’s ok ma’am. What is your name?”

“Dahlia. Dahlia Silvers.”

“Ok Dahlia. Is there anyone else with you? Or around you?”

I scanned my surroundings before responding shakily, “No.”

“Is the woman alive?”

“No.” I don’t know of anybody who could survive their throat being slashed.

“Ok. A team is on their way, but I need you to stay calm for me, ok?”

I nodded, despite the fact that she couldn’t see me. “Alright.”

“Good. Can you stay on the scene so that investigators can speak with you when they arrive?”

My first thought was that I was going to be late for work. It’s actually kind of funny, in retrospect, how unimportant that is compared to the discovery I just made. But the thought was still there.

“I think this would be a valid reason to call in sick.” I replied. The woman on the other end of the phone laughed lightly.

“Yes, I think it would. Would you like me to stay on the phone with you until the team arrives?”

“No, I’m just… I’m going to walk away a bit? Is that ok? I can’t… I mean, I’ve seen pictures and videos of stuff like this, but I didn’t think it would be so -”

“As long as you’re nearby, everything should be fine. It’s understandable that you would need to move away from the body.”

“Ok. Ok,” I took in another deep breath, “I’m ok.”

“A team should be there in a couple of minutes.”

The line went dead, and I sunk down against the wall of the building by the alley, far enough away that the smell of death couldn’t follow me. I felt like it was in my clothes, in my hair; for a second I thought I was going to throw up again, and I put my head in my hands, forcing myself to breathe until the investigators arrived on the scene. I had half a mind to realize that it wasn’t raining anymore, but I couldn’t be bothered to figure out where I’d dropped my umbrella. My clothes were sticking to my skin, and everything on my body felt viscerally wrong.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen images of dead people before; I was a young adult, and I liked movies. Obviously I was used to gore. But the stench… nothing could’ve prepared me for that.

I was surprised at the sheer number of people that showed up: I mean, there was a CSI van, which I expected, but a black car pulled up behind them, as well as two city police cars. Immediately, the CSI team got to work, and the rest of the people began piling out of their cars. The first person to take notice of me was one of the police officers, and he immediately made a beeline for where I was sitting on the sidewalk.

“Are you Dahlia Silvers? The woman who called in the body?” He asked. I nodded, and he held out his hand to me, helping me up on unsteady feet.

“Thank you.”

“‘Course. Now, I’d like to ask you a few questions if that’s ok?”

I nodded again, and he began a surprisingly long tirade of questions. Why was I passing by, where was I going, did I walk this street every day, what did I see first, did I touch anything on the scene, did I know the woman, had I seen anyone else - everything I should’ve expected but didn’t even think about in the wake of everything I’d just witnessed.

I answered accordingly: work, work, yes, the purse, the purse, no, no - I mentioned that the vomit was mine, and that I’d picked the purse up with the intent to return it to whoever dropped it. I mentioned that the first thing I picked up on was the smell, and that I had no idea what happened. Only that my day was perfectly normal, and then -

“Excuse me, officer?” A new voice cut into our conversation, a woman. I turned to look at her, noticing the FBI logo on her jacket immediately. “I’d like to speak with Ms. Silvers for a moment, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course Agent,” He nodded, rejoining the larger group that we were standing a bit away from. I knew he was still watching me, but I couldn’t be bothered to worry about my status on this case’s suspect list right now. I was still trying to process the fact that there was a fucking dead body about five feet away from me.

“Dahlia Silvers?” She asked, as if she didn’t already know. I nodded, and she smiled, introducing herself as well.

“I’m Special Agent Prentiss, I’m with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Immediately my brow furrowed with confusion. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Well, we study -”

“No, I’m sorry, I should’ve been clearer: I know what the BAU does. What is the BAU doing here, in DC?”

“We’re investigating a string of recent murders, and we believe that this one is most likely connected to the case.”

“... If there have been enough murders here that your team needed to come down, why aren’t any of the news stations covering it? I haven’t heard anything about this.”

“We’ve put a block on most of the press until we can gain a better understanding of the situation. I understand why you might feel betrayed by the media -”

“It’s not like that at all,” I rushed to correct her, not realizing I’d cut her off again, “I’m a journalist. I work for The Washington Post. Our office is like three blocks away, that’s where I was headed when - when I saw her.”

The woman nodded, a sympathetic expression on her face. “I’m sorry that you had to see all of this.”

“Thank you,” I gave her a small smile. I did appreciate it, but honestly, I’d recovered from the sight pretty quickly. I’d started working in crime journalism recently, and that came with it’s fair share of gruesome images and stories of tragedy flooding my computer. Hence the reason why my lack of knowledge on these murders was a concern. “I’m just confused as to why I didn’t hear about the murders, while working for a news site. It would make sense for a few stories to slip through, or for our CEO to announce something to us writers - how the hell did you manage a full media block?”

She laughed a bit at my bluntness, but said, “We got here very shortly after the first murder. We were able to restrict almost all stories about the event immediately.”

“Almost all? No, you guys got all of them - I have a keyword filter set up on Google to email me whenever a seemingly newsworthy event happens in the surrounding area, and I feel like ‘local murder’ would definitely count as newsworthy.”

“That’s… surprising, but it makes sense. Never underestimate the power of Jennifer Jareau - that’s our press liaison, she handles -”

“Oh yeah, I know her! I’ve spoken with her a few times when you guys have had cases in DC.”

“Right! Yeah, she’s great…” She got a sort of far-off look in her eye for a moment before she cleared her throat, “But that’s not what I’m here to talk to you about. I know that you spoke with the local police already, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to return to the station with us so we could interview you a bit further - you’re not under arrest, you’d be free to go at any time, we just have a couple more questions.”

I was hesitant, but at the same time, there was an itch in the back of my mind. An itch to know more. If this was a chance for me to find out what’s been going on, no way in hell I’m saying no to that.

Plus, if I did say no, that would be incredibly suspicious.

So I nodded, allowing Agent Prentiss to lead me back to the black vehicle that arrived with the slew of police cars. She opened the passenger door for me before shouting to someone who I’m assuming was one of her coworkers.

“Reid! Stay here and investigate the scene - I’m going to escort Ms. Silvers back to the station, and I’ll be back to pick you up.”

I heard a faint response before she shut the passenger door, climbing around to the other side and allowing me a glimpse of whoever she was talking to.

He was standing on the pavement, still looking at the car, nodding as I’m assuming Agent Prentiss said something else to him. The blue sweater he had on over his button up presented an interesting contrast between the pantsuit I’d seen Prentiss wearing, and the ridiculous query of the nature of the BAU’s uniforms crossed my mind before I turned my attention back to the matter at hand.

The matter at hand being, of course, discreetly staring at the man in front of me.

His curly hair rested almost at his shoulders, and I was mesmerized as I watched him speak, one hand flying and the other holding onto a thin wooden cane. Finally, he nodded definitively before turning back to the crime scene, and my eyes snapped to the driver’s side door as I heard Agent Prentiss slide into the seat next to me.

“Oh please, don’t let me interrupt your staring at Dr. Reid,” She held up her hands in mock defense, trying to keep herself from laughing, “I’m merely the driver.”

“Sta - what, I wasn’t staring, I -” I immediately started to defend myself (even if I totally was staring at Dr. Reid), but Agent Prentiss laughed again.

“Relax, Ms. Silvers. I’m only teasing. He is quite a good-looking man, isn’t he? Not my type, but I’m not blind.”

I blushed, acknowledging her statement with a nod as she put the car in drive, pulling away from the curb. As we started down the road, the full weight of the events that just occurred finally hit me.

I found a corpse.

I was on my way to a police station.

I might be the main suspect in an ongoing murder case. I hadn’t actually asked about that yet.

It was almost as if Prentiss had noticed the shift in my mood - honestly, there’s a chance she actually had, she was a profiler - because she broke the silence with a question.

“Ms. Silvers? How are you feeling?” She asked. I just shook my head.

“Please, call me Dahlia. And honestly, I have no idea how I’m feeling. I… well, I’m sure I don’t need to say that nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”

“I’d be surprised to hear you say it had,” She laughed. I laughed a bit too, though I couldn’t ignore the anxiety eating at me.

“I’m pretty sure I haven’t processed it yet,” I said honestly.

“You’ve gone through a lot in the last hour,” She agreed, “And I hate to say it, but you’re going to have to go through a little bit more. We’re here.”

We pulled into the police station, and she put the car in park, hoping out. I followed suit, and we both headed up the walkway to the front doors.

I was practically trembling with nerves, but at the same time, excitement coursed through my veins at what I might learn.

The BAU might’ve put a blockade on the media from the outside, but I was getting the inside scoop.

[addercharmer]

Izumi is told it takes her three days to stop dissociating, Nezu sitting in her closet when she finally comes to isn't much of a surprise.

"Sorry dad." Her voice cracks as she speaks. 

"No, I should have warned you about the trip." He tells her softy, she can hear the remorse all but leaking from his tone. 

Izumi throws caution into the wind and grabs the stoat and brings him into her lap, she holds him tightly as she finishes pulling herself from the last of the dark thoughts. 

"Up pup, you need a shower and some food." Nezu urges her. 

Izumi let's him go and starts to shift around carefully, her body is stiff and she knows very well that moving too fast will make it ache worse. 

Her shower is long, it leaves the bathroom full of steam that billows out when she opens the door. 

With her hair wrapped up in a towel and wearing a new set of loungewear, Izumi slowly makes her way into the kitchen, where she finds Nezu cooking. When he had purchased the bungalow he had installed a secondary counter where he could comfortablely stand and cook. 

"What did I miss?" Izumi asks as she sits at the table and starts to sip at the tea waiting for her. 

"Not much, we did first aid training on the trip, and some more quirkless combat." Nezu informs her with a quick smile over his shoulder. 

"The sports festival is in two weeks, we really need to up the training in both quirkless and quirked fighting." He speaks his thoughts. "I don't really want to do quirked training without you, as a licensed quirk counselor it is only appropriate." 

Izumi pauses mid sip, her brain is whirring. It may not be moving at its normal speed but it was still enough to make her still momentarily as she flits from plan to plan. 

"I think some one-on-one time is needed with most of the class, but honestly I don't know if I should focus on the ones who are still pro's in the future or the ones who aren't." Izumi admits. 

"I think that it should all be equal, if you can strengthen them all then there is a high probability that they will all be pro's." Nezu shares his thoughts. 

"Un." Izumi grunts before standing to retrieve the plates and bring them to the table. 

"Maybe we could offer scheduled appointments to all students for quirk counseling...maybe after the festival, that way the first and second years can still try to change courses next year."  She murmurs between bites of food. 

Nezu's fork pauses between the plate and his muzzle. "Turn your tutoring into office hours for quirk counseling, should have thought of that. The school counselor never got a full license for quirks." He mumbles still frozen like a statue. 

"Dad, eat." Izumi says to bring him back from his own thoughts running away from him. 

Nezu unfreezes and continues with breakfast. They eat quietly and Izumi is thankful that it's a Sunday and there are no classes. 

She cleans up after they finish eating, it's a simple thing that allows her mind to go high speed but not have to think about what she's doing. 

"Dad, can you braid my hair for me?" Izumi suddenly asks, she doesn't know where the sudden desire came from, but she gives into it. 

"Grab the brush and come to the living room." The stoat answers. 

Izumi does just that, leaving the towel her hair was wrapped in in the bathroom. She flops ungratefully in front of the couch and holds the brush over her shoulder. 

They are quiet as Nezu brushes her hair out, Izumi relaxes and let's her mind drift a little. 

A soft pat to her shoulder let's her know that Nezu is done, the braid is longer than Izumi had expected it to be, the end settling just above the curve of her back when she stands to replace the brush and retrieve her phone and laptop. 

Sitting next to Nezu on the couch this time she unlocks her phone and is startled by the number of notifications she has, they are all messages from the four friends she had made. 

Kayama is a flurry of words all saying the same thing, hoping she is well and asking her to text back. 

Aizawa sent a total of three, one an apology for avoiding her, one asking after how she's doing, and the last suggesting that they go to the cafe when she feels better. 

Shirakumo's texts are much like Kayama's, all asking how she is and demanding she reply. 

Yamada's are all a mixture of emojis and words, some of them are pretty confusing but Izumi figures that they are supposed to be well wishes. 

Shaking her head at the four of them, Izumi decides to just create a group chat. 

Mouse?Bear?Human? Has created group chat: had added 'sleepdeprivedcat', 'LoudAssCloud', and two others. 

Mouse?Bear?Human?: Hi! I am okay, thank you for worrying. 

IBreakGlass: Izumi-chan. \( ͡╯ ͜ʖ ͡╰)/

FemFatale: Shes alive!

Mouse?Bear?Human?: I'm much better now, thank you. 

LoudAssCloud: thnk kami

                           :  NW jst happy ur ok

sleepdeprivedcat: culd u all stfu its 2 early 4 this. 

IBreakGlass: nope Izumi finally replied. 

LoudAssCloud: no way

Mouse?Bear?Human?: Sorry Aizawa-kun, I didn't think that 8 was early. 

FemFatale: look what you did shō the poor species confused fem feels bad.

sleepdeprivedcat: stfu nem

                               : meet @ the cafe @ 12

sleepdeprivedcat is offline. 

Izumi shook her head as she logged out of the group chat as well and locked her phone after setting an alarm for her to leave.

She was excited to see Morpheus again, it felt like it had been far too long. 

Izumi then pulls her laptop over and loses herself to finding enough dirt on Endeavour to get his children and wife away from him, he makes it fairly easy because he keeps all of his documents on a cloud account. 

She's got half of the account downloaded when her phone alarm rings, it jerks her out of the emotionless state she had to force herself into when reading the 'diary' Endeavor had of Touya's 'training'. 

"Dad." Izumi calls out as she shifts her laptop onto the coffee table. 

"Yes?" She jumps a little when she hears him reply from right beside her. 

"I'm gonna go to the cat cafe with the others, but Endeavour's cloud documents are half downloaded, can you watch them for me?" She asks and she turns. 

"Mmmm, sure." The stoat answers her, Izumi is curious at why he sounds so distracted. 

With a shift and a turn of her head she catches real estate listings, Izumi grins to herself as she stands and goes to get ready.

[lifewithsyfe]

Lifting the Veil

Not quite sure how to put this into words, but someone else needs to know what I know. This story can save people and I won’t feel right until it’s consumed by as many as possible. I can’t express how many times I’ve tried to get this out. I almost even gave up on it, but God wouldn’t let me. So, let me make another attempt at it - this is how I escaped the devil:

-

It was a Friday night, April 5th, 2019. 

I’m at El Rey on U street NW DC, having a few crispy beers by myself. Just got off work, taking it easy...

-

Then, I end up running into and old “friend” I used to hangout with. Known him for about 7 years at the time: (Dave) - tall, black, dreads, above average build.

-

After a couple of drinks, he asks if I want to hangout at one of his friends house. Said we can smoke there and that she has a lot of drugs. 

So I accepted cuz I was originally going to let the night unravel on it’s own and it didn’t sound like such a bad idea at the time.

-

It was a habitual routine I developed during my heartache…

I’d go out alone, run into a group of people I knew, bar hop ‘til we ended up at an after hours spot (or someone’s place) and shamelessly sleep my next day away.

-

So we get to the front of his friend’s building and she’s like a 60 something-year-old lady: 

(Robin) - fat, white, short, blue hair, top row gold grill and “ride or die bitch” tattooed on the back of her neck (amongst a couple others, but that one stood out most because it was in my face while she was unlocking her apartment door).

-

At first, I thought it was a descriptive-type of tattoo. Like, she was saying that that’s what she was.

But in retrospect, it was almost like it was something she saying to me...you’ll see what I mean later, if you don’t get it now.

-

Oblivious to what was about to happen next, I continued to walk through that door...

Something felt off, but I just figured it would be something low-level weird. 

I’m always seeing signs that show somebody dabbles in magic or gives a head nod to the prince of darkness (such as a pentagram or something), but I figured “if I’m not actively practicing divinity or doing weird rituals, it won’t personally affect me…if I don’t create a ceremonial invitation, then I’ll be okay.”

-

Now, I’ve already had a good amount of spiritual experiences at this point (good and bad), but for some reason I just didn’t think anything like this would happen…at least not to me. 

-

I thought I had it all figured out, because I thought I’d seen it all - or at least enough. 

I should’ve known though…I was just so emotionally numb at the time, I was doing anything to feel anything.

I mean aesthetically speaking, in a worldly sense, she looked like she’d have a few good stories or something. Needless to say by now, but I ignored the red flags in hopes of escaping my pain. 

-

So, moving forward...

We walk into her apartment, sit on the couch, watch skate videos and start breaking some weed down.

After a few minutes of small talk, they offer me some acid in a vile. Emphasizing how it was very high grade stuff, but I didn’t need much convincing anyway. I was growing bored and undergoing an overwhelming amount of emotional damage.  

-

Now, I was very into psychedelics and considered myself extremely experienced in that realm. 

But just because I did it a lot, didn’t mean I was. You couldn’t tell me otherwise though.

It was usually my go-to for when I needed that unrivaled escape from reality. 

So yeah, I took the witch’s brew, still thinking it was something I considered fun.

-

Once it started to kick in, I could feel her beginning to stare at me from the end of the room with a big grin on her face.

She then suggested that I take my jacket off because I was going to end up getting really hot, then cackled like it was the funniest thing in the world to say.

-

It was something she said a couple of times too. At first I didn’t know exactly what she meant, I just thought she was a basket case repeating herself. But she was implying that I was going to end up in Hell…you’ll see what I mean.

-

A few moments go by and they both suggest we move the party to the rooftop because her place was limiting and we could see more from up there anyway. 

Plus, she wanted to blow bubbles (possibly a way to distract me from their underlying plot)…and I figured “tripping indoors is boring anyway, why not?”

-

Now because I took my jacket off and left it in her apartment, I began shivering after a while. 

I didn’t expect for it to be that windy, I only wanted a nice little breeze.

So she says she’ll get me a something cozy to put on and that she had to go in for more soap anyway. She comes back and asks to put this fur coat on me. It was nice, so I let her. It had an invigorating energy attached to it, I can't lie. I felt like a million bucks.

-

So I’m comfortable now and she gives me a a little rooftop tour, showing me the visible landmarks from each corner.

Mentioning for me to not to be afraid of my true potential and that I can obtain everything I want. 

I was feeling pretty good about those words, until I thought to myself “that sounds familiar…what if she isn’t speaking in general?” - but I just chalked it up to her being an old hippy. 

-

She then grabs my arm and tells me to look at this red wall, as we walk to the other side of the building. I figured it’d be something visually enticing she was trying to share, but this was going to be her first attempt at hypnosis. There were lights spaced out by every three steps we took, so it would go red-black-red-black-red-black... 

-

Then she asked if it felt like my soul was being massaged - encouraging me to ride it out...essentially, trying to get me to put my guard down, saying “this is where dreams become reality.” 

Then, I began seeing holographic outlines of people in the wall. The traces reminded me somewhat of a glowing snail trail.

-

Right after, I saw myself turn into a block of deformed flesh and almost being slid into the wall if I stared any longer. 

But like I woke up in one of those falling dreams, I snapped out of it with my heart racing.

-

Then with a laugh attached, she exclaims “damn, almost!” 

And that’s when I stopped letting myself be completely naive. The veil was clearly being lifted before me and I needed to be alert. It’s just, I had this slight muffle surrounding my common sense for some reason. Surely it must've been a spell she cast.

-

Now I knew hallucinogens were considered sorcery in the Bible, but I figured one more time couldn't hurt. It’s not like I wasn’t still smoking and drinking. 

It’s just crazy, because it was after learning about the what the fallen angels taught us in the Book of Enoch, is when I decided to trip again. I blatantly chose to play with fire and defy God that night. 

-

See, these hypnotic spells are telepathic contracts. Once the manipulator is installing a vision, it’s at the last second where it becomes your choice to see what happens next.  

It nudges at your curiosity, feeling like it’s a part of the trip you’re supposed to let happen.

But every time I almost did, my heart wouldn't allow it and I’d snap out of it again.

-

Every time she would make another attempt, I could feel my soul almost getting tugged at, with a malicious presence surrounding me. 

The goosebumps I got from this thing, felt like it was ready to defile me in every way possible.

-

In disbelief that what I thought might be happening, wasn’t - I tell myself “let me not cause a ruckus for no reason, I am trippin’ after all. Think of something positive.”

But now my eyes are shifting everywhere, because I keep getting a glimpse of whatever’s approaching. 

Even with that many peculiarities, something kept me in denial.

-

Still though, she tries another set-up and tells me to look at how high up we are, as she gestured for me to look down from the rail. As if I didn’t already know, but I go because I also didn’t want to be rude. I wasn't sure if everything happening was all in my head or not at the time, so I remained as cool as I could.

-

I grab the rail and look over…

(Dave) says “don’t let go,” giving me this wide-eyed look with a smile and said “you feel it, don’t you?”

Then just like that, my heart jumped and my mind began getting flashes of demonic symbols and images like subliminal messages. I even saw random equations in the air, like measurements and ratios of whichever object I laid my eyes on.

-

My vision was about to go black, exactly like the circle closing at the end of a cartoon…until I snapped out of it yet again and backed up with my head on a swivel, angrily questioning them. 

That’s when I caught (Dave) behind me, quickly hiding his hands. 

-

Now I’m on survival mode and it feels like I can’t even make a step without risking my soul, literally. Each step mattered. 

It's at this point that I can feel that I’m being made a fool out of, but of course they gaslight me and try to calm me down.

I still didn’t want to believe I was in this kind of mess, but I’d be a fool to let all of that slide so easily. I couldn't keep lying to myself, as bad as I wanted to.

-

So with caution, I’m trying to plan my escape - playing dumb, but my body is getting heavier by the second too.

She then lifts her speaker and says “listen to these different frequencies, it can change your mood.”

I really wasn’t trying to, because I needed to leave and I didn’t trust her at all now. Especially not with anything sound related.

Then out of nowhere, I hear a distorted garble come out of the speaker and hit my ear.

-

I  asked “what the fuck!?”

Then (Dave) was responds with “oh, you heard that...?”

I looked away and acted oblivious not knowing how I'm going to get out of this, because I felt that if they knew I could hear that, they’d bring out the big guns.

-

(Dave) laughed, saying to Robin “wait, he still don’t know what this is yet?”

Unintentionally, or intentionally letting me know what it was. 

So I tried to leave and they started laughing because the door needed a key fob in order to get to the elevators. They kept suggesting I have a seat, trying so hard to keep me there.

-

(Dave) said “you already ‘bouta do it, it’s better this way anyway.”

Then he was like “look at my hands, this shit trippy, right?”

Followed by him creating an infinity symbol with his waving hands. 

Now this infinity symbol was made of light and floating in mid-air in front of him after he did it. I even looked at it from the side to confirm that it was real.

Right after that, he did the Baphomet pose, flipping his hands and head perfectly in a stiff dance.

Which then caused me to see it’s true form in my minds eye, with a heavy vibration. Another attempt at making me slip, as I try to keep my reality gripped.

-

Once I can see them again, it’s like time stood still and only I could move. 

I’d look around and they’d be frozen. 

At this time, I can hear them having two simultaneous conversations. 

Although, all I caught was (Dave) say “he can’t hear us in this plane.”

-

Then as he slowly got up, it like I was tuning through a radio, I hear a screeching static clear up. The sound then becomes like an electronic bleating and bellowing from a goat, in-sync, surrounding him.

-

This was the moment I became a part of their their collective conscious conversation - essentially telepathy.

Then they began letting me know who they were. Saying that they were angels, that they were around before us and that I can be like them.

-

The whole time they were talking to me, they were trying to weaken and hypnotize me with hand signs - trying to convince me to let go. Thing is, when they did try to convince me, they’d always talk around the subject at hand...but once you know what the subject is, the situation becomes clear. 

-

A lot of people might think they’d get physical and get out of there. I just don’t think they’d understand how it is fighting sleep paralysis, awake. 

I also knew that one false move would take me to the ‘sunken place.’

-

I knew I couldn’t just stand there though. But right before I grab the door to get to the elevator, (Dave) says “okay, you gon’ be waiting on that elevator forever; this is a REAL trip…c’mon, I thought you liked this shit, right?” 

Mockingly he asked “yeah, I guess you gon’ think twice about taking LSD again huh?”

-

I was thinking in my head “fuck, did I really just lose my soul? Is this how it happens to people? Is this where it all ends for me?”

I thought that was it, so I was about to give in and accept the offer - see what benefits I could get, if any. I figured living a worldly lifestyle would be better than dying immediately.

-

Then from there, every time we almost sealed the deal, I would feel a hungry fire approach me from behind. Almost like a burning lick.

The one time I decided to look for where it was coming from, I got a vision with an glowing orange blur in it - slowly materializing, until I could make something out of it. Then with the bit that I saw, I knew it was me being swallowed by fire and not dying. 

-

Immediately after, almost as if I had touched the flames themselves, I yelled in confusion “What? No! Yeshua Hamashiach is my Lord and Savior!”

To which (Dave) nonchalantly responds “okay, you do that...that [N-word] died a long time ago.” 

I sharply look at him with disgust and continued my prayer.

Mentioning to God that He promised He would never abandon His children if they encountered evil and that if there was a way for Him to save me, to do it.

-

Dave says that I’m blowing his trip and leaves to the gas station.

I could’ve left then and there, but I still didn’t want to be alone in an elevator with him. There's no telling what he has under his sleeve or how I might react in while in there.

-

So as I’m praying, I begin to feel the dark hold they had on my heart loosen up. It was like my heart was pumping physical light throughout my body, then all around it. I could feel the forcefield - the LORD had arrived and I could move my body freely. No more fear in taking the wrong step.

-

So on (Dave’s) way back, (Robin) announces it and says let’s go downstairs and get him. That’s when I hear (Dave) say - not yell, “open up” from all the way downstairs and I was amazed...I asked myself “wait, can he still hear me?” 

With him responding “DUH! Damn, you some shit!” and continued on his way. Then it all came to me, I'm sure hidden witches and warlocks communicate like this whenever they encounter one another. Whether it be at parties, art shows or even churches...a fleeting thought, but a concrete one nonetheless.

-

So back to us going to get (Dave) - if I was to leave, this was going to be my chance.

In the elevator she tries enchanting me again, but I rebuked every attempt. She seemed so confident with a huge smile, as if she already won the battle. 

But I’m trying to maintain focus the best that I can, so I don’t slip - which made this elevator ride unnecessarily more intense than it needed to be.   

-

Once the elevator door finally opens, I see (Dave’s) silhouette behind a thick glass rail, carrying an ominous slouch. 

Walking towards me, he notices that I’ve calmed down. I guess he expected me to be spazzing out, screaming about devils and spirits...I already knew how that would make me look though. So when he sees my face, he smiles and asks “oh, you’re good now?”

I guess he assumed the process was complete...

-

Instead, I replied “yeah, I’m not with this goofy shit y'all got goin' on”

So as I’m walking towards the exit, he yells “that’s not the way out!”

To where I respond “fuck y’all!”

-

You would’ve thought I opened the door before touching it, the way I left out so fast. 

As that door closed, I did a little jog to get across the street. 

But a few seconds later, I feel this tingle in the back of my brain (specifically the medulla oblongata), as though it had neck hairs that stood up. 

I look over my shoulder and noticed he decided to follow me…of course. Shortly after I noticed him - with that bull-like slouch, he started to run. 

-

Now I was a little ahead of him, so I didn’t start running yet. I had to make sure I knew where I was going before exerting my energy.

Every time I moved my head, I could feel the tingle coming from his direction like a compass always pointing North. 

So there was no losing him, at least not easily - but I am fast.

-

I couldn’t call a ride because my phone was dead and I couldn’t go to anyone’s house at the time, because it was around 5am.

As (Dave) got closer, I felt my vision going black and my body getting heavy again. A lot stronger this time…time to kick it into high gear.

-

Once it clicks into my head that the easiest place to catch a taxi in such a heated moment would be in Adams Morgan, an opportunity presented itself.

-

Ahead of me was a crosswalk and the orange hand was counting down it’s last seconds. Everything I ever learned told me I wasn’t going to make it, but I wasn’t going to stop running either.

-

So when my foot lands off the sidewalk, is when the cars to my left and right begin to move. 

That’s when everything moved in-slow-motion…and a burst of energy launched me across the street. I saw that moment like a painting in my mind. Sweat with streetlight reflections, my hair slightly messy, clothes moving with the wind, chain dancing and molecular debris falling from my shoes. 

-

That moment bought me time because the cars acted as a barrier as soon as I made it, so he was stuck across the street for a little bit. But he didn't give up. This is when I start hearing scribbly garbles rolling and jumping off of buildings and into my ear “you acting like a lil bitch - come back!”

Perfectly delivered as if he was next to me…I look behind me and it’s like he hasn’t broke a sweat. Completely focused, but still plenty of distance.

-

From the gas station diagonal to the 9:30 Club (where Robin lives), to the McDonald’s in Adam’s Morgan...

My body wanted to give out most of the way, but soul wouldn’t allow it.

I just had to keep running until I found a taxi - which I did. I was going to live to tell the tale; I had to.

-

That’s when Dave caught up, yelling “you look like a unk right now!” 

Because 4 taxis stopped for me coming from each direction in that intersection.

To where I respond “I don’t give a fuck, I made it out and you mad as shit!” 

I get in the car and tell the taxi driver to head towards Maryland. I’ll give him the address on the highway.

-

Finally, after surviving a living nightmare, I made it home. 

I went to my room, played some worship music, got on my knees and wrung myself out of tears to the Lord.

-

Unable to sleep because I knew they could contact me in my dreams.

So I didn’t rest until the drug wore off, which was on the next day in the afternoon…

I even felt that burn on my back as if it was sunburn for the next couple of weeks after.

-

I’m so grateful to still be alive and myself, because I’m 100% positive I’d be in Hell (with something else in my vessel) if I didn’t call on God that night.

It was like I was tiptoeing on a needlepoint to keep my soul.

-

Since then, I've been learning a lot more to keep myself more spiritually fortified and spreading my experience in hopes of leading others into a life of light into the hands of the Lord. I hope this story can do something positive for whoever comes across it, so feel free to share to those you love. God bless you.

[windandwater]

When my grandfather on my dad’s side passed away, I wrote up a piece with just one family story after another about the experience. I can’t really do the same thing in the same way this time, but I am finding that, in every death, family draws tighter together and tells stories to each other almost on instinct, finding common ground around this one person who shaped us.

Here are some stories that have come out of the last few weeks.

*

I will warn you that the story of my mom’s family has a dark side—her biological mother was physically, emotionally, and psychologically abusive. My grandfather was the one who saved his children from her and thus I can’t speak of him without speaking of her as well. I ended up only telling one story that involves her and it has a content warning at the beginning as well as a note for when the story ends.

*

In his eulogy, my step-uncle said that my grandfather, his stepfather, taught him that “family isn’t about biology. It’s about love.”

Well, he was the one who taught me that too, only not because I had crappy parents. Until he remarried, mom had a crappy parent and a good parent, and the good parent held the family together and shaped us in ways that I’m still only beginning to find out.

*

CW CHILD ABUSE

(Note: I’m referring to her as my mom’s bio-mom or by her initials, NW.)

The custody battle was brutal, and it went all the way to the state supreme court. Fathers didn’t get custody back then—my mom says “abuse” wasn’t even in the lexicon in the initial court cases.

We found this out because my brother & his girlfriend googled my grandfather and this is what came up. They read the deposition and initially my brother was uncomfortable with her seeing it, but my mom said it grazed the surface—and as I told him, the only reason I don’t going around telling people that my mom’s bio mom did stuff like frequently sprain her wrist from beating them is that it’s not exactly the kind of thing you dump on people without warning, not because it’s a secret or because my mom doesn’t want me to talk about it.

I’ve known for a long time that when I was really little, my mom once found herself with her hands around my throat, freaked the fuck out, and from that moment had to second guess every inch of her parenting and her actions around us, because she had no instincts to fall back on. I didn’t need to read “choking her eldest daughter” as an example of abuse in a court case to know that that happened to my mom.

Anyway, the psychological abuse always scared me more. Because my mom won’t talk about it much.

END CW

*

Apparently, even though moms are perfect angels who should always get child custody and can do no wrong to children, word was getting around about her and someone offered to “take care of the problem” for $150.

My grandfather never would’ve said yes to that, and he decided to try the legal route first. But he was ready to take the kids and run, if he didn’t get custody. Leave his job, fake name, move to Phoenix, everything. I’m beyond thankful that didn’t have to happen but also beyond relieved that he was ready to.

*

He never spoke a single ill word about NW.

*

I was very disappointed about missing the funeral in person. I was hoping they’d have it after my ankle surgery so I could at least be propped up in a corner somewhere, high on Vicodin maybe, but there.

Honestly I’m disappointed about a lot of things this month.

The day before the funeral, my dad came in with a picture showing me the outside of the house. There was a rainbow. A little one, but a rainbow.

I of course dragged my ass out of my sickbed, hopped my way out there, and made him set up a chair so I could see it too.

*

There’s a reason I run a side blog of rainbows. There’s a personal & private story there, but what you need to know is that in dark moments, I often look for rainbows or have literal rainbows sent my way. They bring me hope every time. I sat outside, foot hurting and sweating all over from the heat, watching the rainbow fade, knowing it was going to be okay.

I haven’t always gotten along with my cousins on that side of the family. They grew up in Louisiana and are much closer to each other, so there’s a lot of gaps to bridge and we taller, dark-haired city people from Yankee land who clung close to each other and weren’t used to big families always kind of stuck out a bit among the short blondes who had always lived in the South in a big insane group of cousins and step-cousins.

We’ve gotten closer more recently. It’s trendy to hate on your family on facebook, but interacting on social media has given me some separation between the stuff that makes me roll my eyes about my cousins and the stuff that endears me to them.

And it was through facebook that we came together because of one simple fact: we all had the same, terrible morning.

We all woke up first thing to our moms, broken in half themselves, breaking our hearts too.

*

I get told that I laugh and smile a lot. Sometimes I’m even told that in non-creepy ways! And it’s true. I sometimes think I exist moment to moment trying to find something new to make me laugh. I learned that from my parents, who will watch or listen to just about anything if it’s funny. I learned to tell stories from them too, to take all my experiences and find the good the bad and the funny in everything.

My mom is my best audience. She laughs like a hyena at all my stories, my good lines and my bad lines. She’ll laugh at jokes that I *know* aren’t funny, at the ones that I think are hilarious but no one else laughed at, and she laughs the hardest of all at the jokes I’m extremely proud of and that land really well nearly every time.

Her whole family’s like that. Head thrown back, laughing hysterically, whole conversations just an excuse to try and make each other laugh.

Her dad, too. Just as loud and as hard as the rest of them. He had a giggle, and also a cackle. He used to give points when someone said something particularly funny, let out a really good zinger, or “won” a round of conversation. He’d just grin, solemnly lick his finger, and draw a “1” in the air.

*

He liked pranks. I’ve told story after story on my blog about how my family likes to mess with each other at Christmas. My mom’s saying is that “there’s no such thing as a lie at Christmas”, meaning that your gift is late or it wasn’t in stock or we can’t do it this year, I haven’t found a gift for you so you’re just getting candy? Not lies.

Except it’s not her saying. It’s his.

Anything that arrives at the house in December gets wrapped up and put under the tree; it’s automatically a gift. You think that trick of wrapping things in progressively smaller boxes is a prank? Amateur hour. I’ve wrapped up individual pieces of candy, individual matryoshka dolls, and yes, the smallest git in the largest box but also filled the box with packing peanuts to make it extra annoying.

I learned all of this from my mother.

But he taught it to her.

If I find hideous things to give my brother, it’s because my mom’s family rotated a Velvet Elvis, giving it to each other, for years. If my mom watched in stoic silence as my dad tore the house apart for looking something they got in Arizona that was wrapped up under the tree, it’s because someone wrapped up two huge boxes for my grandfather that he was excited to open, that turned out to be two light fixtures he’d ordered and forgotten about.

We never lost the magic of Christmas in my house. If anything it got more magical, more fun to surprise each other and find funny and creative ways to show each other how much we care. Gift giving is an art form in my family and I look forward to it every year.

It’s all because of my grandfather.

*

I learned so many things from my parents that they in turn learned from my grandfather. Even my dad learned a lot from him as his father-in-law, because it was impossible not to look up to him, and he was a teacher in his profession and by nature. Everyone talked so much at the funeral and afterwards about how he could fix anything, build anything, do, anything.

I was called “Tinker” at one of my old jobs for how I was always fixing everyone’s computer and the various office machinery. I didn’t necessarily know how until I sat down and looked at it. I just knew how to figure it out.

I always thought I learned that from my parents, which I guess is still true, but now I know who they passed it on to me from.

One thing I always associated with my mom was that any time she saw a pile of my necklaces in a knotted mess, she would sit down an untangle them for me. I never asked her to do that; she would just see them, and sit down and start working on them. She always got a specific look of concentration on her face as she did.

My dad and I were talking after the funeral and he mentioned my grandfather doing that exact thing in our house at ninety-something years old. He has a picture of it. I knew without seeing it exactly what the expression on his face would be.

It’s now one of my favorite pictures of him.

*

There was technical trouble with the Zoom funeral, which was pretty disastrous—I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t able to attend due to health & other problems. For someone so beloved, so central to the family, who we all owe so much to but don’t even think of it that way because he was so fun and easy to love…well, funerals are for the living, and not being able to be there in person hurt, bad, and I know I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. We were relying on being able to attend digitally.

But most of the world is still getting used to doing things over video, and certainly the older couple running the funeral home was a bit clueless. I, on the other hand, ran video calls (not over Zoom, but still) almost daily for 2 years while I was an admin and we had remote employees calling in to meetings. So as soon as I realized exactly what was causing the problem, I got on the phone with the funeral home and did my best to salvage what we could.

And then I pulled the recording for everyone (thank goodness it was recorded).

And then before I watched it I wrote up some instructions, with screenshots, for the funeral home for next time, because they genuinely didn’t know what to do and I wanted to make sure the next family had an easier time and if the problem is just understanding technology, I know how to help with that! I’m good at figuring out and explaining this stuff! It’s just what you do—you help people when you can! You know?

And then I watched the funeral, and listened to my uncle talk about my grandfather always fixing things, and always teaching people.

And I just broke down. Because I knew. I knew who I was.

If the legacy I carry is that of someone who can’t resist helping others by teaching and fixing problems, then may I never ever ever let go of that legacy.

My mother called me to tell me that when they realized what was going on and what I was doing, my uncles both said the same thing, that “that was Papa.”

*

The only good part about any of this is that I’m here with my mom right now. She talked to him all the time before he died but she didn’t get to see him, and she keeps saying things like how she wishes she could tell him the good joke she heard. She’ll casually talk about the depression she’s fighting off.

I didn’t want a broken ankle to strand me here but there are worse times to be stuck with my mom.