#And use even similar analogies and metaphors

[fragmentedblade]

I honestly have a pretty bad time capturing the heliobi

[mynnthia]

was talking with a friend about how some of dunmeshi fаndom misunderstands kabru's initial feelings towards laios.

to sum up kabru's situation via a self-contained modernized metaphor:

kabru is like a guy who lost his entire family in a highly traumatic car accident. years later he joins a discord server and takes note of laios, another server member who seems interesting, so they start chatting. then laios reveals his special interest and favorite movie of all time is David Cronenberg's Crash (1996), and invites kabru to go watch a demolition derby with him

[bbyboybucket]

So I wrote up all this stuff weeks ago and drafted it and forgot about it until I seen these tags from @kahuna-burger

And they are absolutely right. And I’m so glad someone agrees with me on this analogy, because this is EXACTLY how I see him, and exactly what I get into below. This is the whole thing I was writing up previously:

“The winter soldier was treated like a living weapon.”

Mmm, yes. The whole living weapon thing is not a wrong metaphor. But I’d argue that there’s something else far more accurate (aka what the now added tags say).

He wasn’t their weapon. He was their dog. In such an uncanny way, almost literal sense. I wouldn’t even say a guard dog, I’d actually say he was Hydra’s hunting dog.

I mean think about it. Really. They actually treated him like a dog.

He wears a harness. He wears a fucking muzzle for gods sake.

But that’s just the bare minimum of similarities.

What do they do when he gets out of line? To punish him, to put make him obey and learn to fall back into good behavior? They shock him. Just like how people have always used shock collars and electric fences for dogs. When he’s been “bad”, when he does something he’s not supposed to, he gets shocked to correct that behavior.

They also smack him and get physical. People don’t do that with weapons. There’s no point in that. And you wouldn’t wanna damage or harm a weapon. But people do smack dogs. They hit their dogs when they don’t behave or do something wrong because harm, pain, and damage will teach it. Just like it teaches him. And they’ll heal so it’s not a concern.

He was trained to obey commands. Just like dogs. He does any little thing he’s told because he’s conditioned with a rewards system. He even has specific command words that trigger compliance. Just like you teach a dog to sit or roll over with trigger words, he has em too. I mean literally, he has a Pavlovian response to said words. And what was the original Pavlov experiment done on? A dog. The only difference is he doesn’t get physical treats. His treat is praise, which they manipulated him into being desperate for. They even go as far to incentivize him with this praise (think about the bank scene, where Pierce praises him), just like you would present a dog with a treat when you want it to do a trick. Hell, actually praise is a way you reward dogs too, because they listen and learn when you tell them they’re a “good boy, good dog”.

Hydra asserts their dominance over him just in case he turns on them, just to remind of who’s the “alpha”. Because they know (just like big dog owners) that he can tear them up, he can attack and shred them to pieces, but if he thinks he’s not the “alpha” then he’ll back down.

And yeah, he’s protective and reliant on his “owners” like most dogs would be. But like I said, not just a guard dog. A hunting dog. Because just like people teach their dogs to track down and go after bears, squirrels, dear, etc. he was also taught how to track down stuff to kill. Stuff that his owner wanted dead. That’s his whole purpose, to hunt for them.

Also, think about how Hydra obtained him. It’s like if a person saw an injured dog in a ditch, brought it to a vet to heal up, then took it home to have as their own pet. Because that’s exactly what they did with him. It’s just the owner was an abusive one.

He wasn’t treated like some expensive tank or powerful arsenal of guns. He was treated like well trained hunting dog.

[caliburn-the-sword]

the main talking point of a lot of people that love eah but bash on descendants is that "eah was deep!! descendants was just a disney knockoff that meant nothing and was just a cashgrab" SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP (to be clear i am an eah lover). analytical thoughts to follow:

consider also, that auradon is portrayed as very technologically advanced in direct opposition to the isle being associated with magic (even with its ban) and a lot of of clearly second hand, worn and torn fridges and tvs and whatever

also, the fact that she felt PRESSURED to not only culturally assimilate into auradon culture, but alter her physical appearance to assimilate further. consider mal's costuming in the first movie. on the isle, we see her with (what i assume is her natural) purple hair, leather, etc. she is even, to a degree, gender nonconforming. pretty much the ONLY time we see her in skirts is when she's trying to impress ben for her plan to work

compare this with the hair costuming in descendants 2:

(i actually can't remember which scenes the third one was in but whatever) they have taken away her sparkle!! she's assimilated firstly into auradon fashion by dressing in pastels like them, and in SKIRTS which she textually only wore in the first movie when she wanted to impress ben. now with the added context of her wanting to impress auradon. and it really speaks a lot that she feels she has to conform to gender norms more in order to be accepted by auradon

and what about hair. she's felt the need to not only change the way she dresses, but change her hair to the eurocentric standard, so blonde that it's almost WHITE to conform to auradon's society (because let's be real, her mum's a fairy/dragon and her dad is a greek god. i'd be MORE surprised if she was DYING her hair purple than it being natural). changing your natural hair in order to to conform to and be accepted by the majority... where have i heard that one before??

shoutout to @soniccat

(to be clear. it is not a one for one analogy. "hey using a spell to force someone to forget what you did is an invasion" to me is like going "well actually people were right to fear mutants in x-men because some of them were walking weapons" IT'S A METAPHOR THAT IS ALSO A PLOT DEVICE)

('backwater' being used ironically, do not let my meaning be misconstrued here. a better way to word it is that immigrants are guilttripped into having to be 'grateful' for their oppression in a first world country because microaggressions or assimilation is considered better than the alternative, being back in your home country where living conditions may be considered poorer)

in the sense that for instance, jay put a VK spin on supporting feminism. like yes, he could've done it the rulefollowing, create a petition and gather signatures route, but INSTEAD he finds and exploits an existing loophole to let lonnie join the team. or evie shouting out dizzy's creations, uplifting her voice despite the fact she could've still taken the credit since she was the one that paired the outfit with the accessories. etc

are the descendants movies objectively bad movies?? yes. but this was to me, one of the most compelling analogies for immigrant struggles. take particular notice how almost ALL the main VKs are either racebent from the original disney movies (evie, carlos, uma) or were already based on an ethnic character (mal, jay)

but wait, mal is the whitest white girl to walk the planet. how is she already based on an ethnic character?

glad you asked. it is quite unclear in the descendants movie (basing its portrayal of maleficent on the disney sleeping beauty) is a fairy or a dragon. while the maleficent movie isn't canon to the descendants universe, i'm still going to use the fact that she's a fairy with the magical ability to turn herself into a dragon

a lot fairy folklore comes from ireland. the name maleficent itself, and i quote

shares similarities to the name millicent. millicent has irish (or scottish) roots (even a coat of arms) as in

thus one could argue that maleficent herself could potentially be irish coded

whether or not you agree with the idea that maleficent is irish coded, it is undeniable that mal is the daughter of hades, a greek god. it's a shame that that was a retcon in the third movie and not planned from the start, because the role could've gone to an actually greek actress (please google the ottoman empire and greek independence day if you still think it's not fitting for me to group mal with the others)

where was i going with this?? right. it's extremely telling that most of the main/side VKs, save for gil, are ethnic, in the story of a group of misfits finding themselves in an unfamiliar country with new social norms for them to learn as they try to fit in with and become accepted by their peers

[huellitaa]

the world is yours, literally 💭🎀🧁

so if you've been on this side of tumblr or any girly self improvement etc. side of social media, there's a high chance you've discovered the statement "you are the creator of your own reality" or "the world is yours" or something along those lines at some point. it sounds so far fetched when you first hear it, without any thought going into its true meaning, but the reason this is used so much is because it is true.

we are our lives. you are the world around you. everything in our lives is intrinsically entwined in ways we can't explain and the biggest connection out of all of them is us and life. it sounds obvious and self explanatory, sure, but when you think of it on a deeper level and dig into the complexity of the notion, like most things, you'll find it holds a lot stronger of a stance in your life.

have you ever noticed how so many metaphors for your life and bettering yourself reference and relate to nature and the world? "treat urself like garbage and the flies will come”, “water your own garden before anyone else’s”, “the darker the night, the brighter the stars”, “needing good roots to grow", they all relate to the sun and the sky and the sea and the world and the ground we stand on. they all relate to earth.

have you ever noticed how when people free themselves from bad situations, their reality and their world around them seems to get better too? how it seems to shift along with them?

because we are our world. every building we've built, every concept we've invented, every life we've created and every life we've lost, everything on this earth down to the last blade of grass was once nothing, but once we began to discover and create and flourish and bloom (see, the analogy still stands even there), the world grew along with us, and still is every day.

in truth, the world is in no set way, shape or form. it is not a singular entity. that's why your life can be remade and reshaped so easily within the blink of an eye (but that's for another time) because the world you know is solely your reality. that's the reason everybody has a different perception of you just as you do them, the reason why we have separate interests, conflicting outlooks, the list goes on.

the more we grow, so does our world, and our reality. you've seen how many people have changed and grown and gotten happier and healthier and only kept on going when they finally began to step up and better themselves, how their world changed along with them. because us and the world are one and the same.

the most important thing i'd like you to ask yourself is how do you treat the world? how do you view the world? and how do you treat and view yourself? are there any particular differences? similarities? anything that stands out? what is the world to you?

all my love... 💬🎀🫶🏻💗

[covid-safer-hotties]

Opinion: Better protecting schools from COVID is within reach - Published Aug 17, 2022

This article was incredibly well sourced and correct: Why are these simple procedures not being implemented to keep children and teachers safe two years from publication?

Welcome to the “Live with COVID” era, where living with the virus means not talking about it at all. We’ve been told to pretend it’s over, though those “weird summer colds” and “lingering symptoms” indicate otherwise. Rising case rates, hospitalizations, and deaths. Best Summer Ever 2.0 is ending, which means kids are about to return for their third pandemic September.

Article content In the beginning, we were told that 1) kids don’t get COVID, 2) they do, but it’s mild, 3) vaccines alone will protect us, and 4) COVID does not spread in schools. While true that fewer children die from COVID than adults, they’re generally not supposed to die.

And kids are experiencing disabling long COVID, with estimated rates between two and 25 per cent of all infections, not counting reinfections. While vaccines mitigate the worst outcomes of COVID, they don’t completely stop transmission, and additional measures are required. And of course, as every parent knows, children don’t keep their germs to themselves. They go on to transmit to their teachers, parents and grandparents. Furthermore, outbreaks in schools do spread to the community.

Schools need to be safer for all students and staff, including those with medical concerns and vulnerable family members. Worker shortages are everywhere, education included. Sick teachers can’t teach, and more worryingly, may go on to develop long COVID, resulting in time away or even retirement.

It’s also harder for kids to learn when they’re sick and more absences means losing more time when so much has been lost to the pandemic. Looking at the Calgary Board of Education’s absence data, 6.3 per cent of students were away in April 2022, compared to 2.8 per cent in 2019. This is unsurprising, as there were essentially no protections in schools by June, despite low vaccination uptake and no vaccines for kids under five. No testing, mask mandates (Education Minister Adriana Lagrange outlawed those), enhanced ventilation nor in-room filtration (again, banned by the CBE). Yes, hand sanitizer was plentiful, but that doesn’t stop a virus that spreads through the air.

We can make schools safer for kids and their communities, but it means we have to talk about COVID. We need to acknowledge that COVID transmission is predominantly airborne, so that citizens have a framework for understanding risk. The smoke analogy, used by the Public Health Agency of Canada, and chief public health officer of Canada Dr. Theresa Tam, is an excellent metaphor.

There are multiple ways to make schools safer. Adequate ventilation, with a minimum of six fresh air changes per hour, mitigates build-up of viruses floating around in the air. Even opening windows/doors can be effective. Ventilation can be monitored through measuring the CO2 concentration in the room, essentially showing how much air one may be breathing in that was exhaled by someone else. Boston Public Schools is doing this and even has a public dashboard to share data. Upgrading filters in ventilation systems helps too, but as of May, the CBE has not completed this at any of their schools.

An additional intervention is filtration units like HEPA filters, or even homemade Corsi-Rosenthal boxes, to remove and trap virus particles. The CBE’s own risk management consultants acknowledged the effectiveness of this intervention.

Article content And we need to reinstate universal masking in zones where high community spread is identified, emphasizing respirator-style (N95 or KN95) masks for everyone. Information released in Alberta showed that schools with no mask mandates had three times more outbreaks than those with masking, confirming similar data from Arkansas and Massachusetts.

Pretending that COVID is over doesn’t it make it so. And it doesn’t help us “live with COVID” either. Yes, people are tired, we all want to move on. But making schools safer is fully within our reach. And until COVID is actually over, we can’t pretend our way out of it. So Alberta parents must demand the safety of their children and their teachers, or our leaders will simply go on pretending.

[evidence-based-activism]

you know that porn doesn't have to involve women, right? you know that porn can be animated, right? you know that sex workers often run their own websites and publish their own work, right? good lord

"all porn is bad because the porn industry is often abusive" ok. stop eating chocolate. all chocolate. the chocolate industry is hugely abusive. stop eating it. all of it. even chocolate that you're pretty sure was ethically sourced. even homemade chocolate from your neighbor or that you bought online from the person who harvested the beans

"you know that porn doesn't have to involve women, right?"

(1) The vast majority of it does. (2) I actually do care about the men being abused in pornography as well. It may not be as frequent of an issue, but it does exist. (3) So ... you admit that pornography hurts women?

(Also, here is a post with a quote on this topic.)

"you know that porn can be animated, right?"

There are three forms of harm resulting from pornography: (1) the harm incurred by the people who are involved in its production (primarily the women - and sometimes the men - being filmed), (2) the harm incurred by the "consumers" of pornography, (3) the harms incurred by society (e.g., the connection to misogynistic beliefs, violence rates, etc.).

Animated pornography doesn't involve the first harm, but it may (and likely does) involve the second two harms. There is very little research on animated and/or written pornography. (I've asked for people to send any me known sources on this topic in the past.) That being said, here's a few sources I did find:

This article [1] describes how hentai, a common form of animated pornography, is disproportionately viewed by children aged 6-12 years and includes violence directed at female characters.

This article describes the similarities between animated and "regular" pornography [2]. This post [3] describes how animated pornography may be a "supernormal stimulus", affecting us in way that mimic other supernormal stimuli (e.g., junk food).

You can consult this website [4] that lists literally hundreds of sources on the negative effects of pornography. Most of these concern the harm incurred by the "consumer", which are likely shared (at least in part) by animated pornography.

We absolutely need more research on the topic of animated pornography specifically (and also written/drawn pornography). But given that we've established the harms of pornography, it's reasonable for the "burden of proof" to be transferred (i.e., we no longer need to prove the harm of pornography, you need to prove that this harm doesn't apply to animated pornography).

"you know that sex workers often run their own websites and publish their own work, right?"

(1) You'll need to provide a source for that "often". (2) What "sex workers" do you mean, anon? Pimps and pornography producers have taken to calling themselves "sex workers", but they are clearly in a different situation than the women who are "having sex" and being filmed are in. (3) How do you know which websites and work are "their own"? How do you know if the content is being posted by the women in the video and not someone else? If everyone was of age? If all the sex acts were consensual? If the women consented to it being posted/distributed? If she's being coerced by a pimp or a boyfriend or economic destitution? (4) Most importantly: are you willing to risk watching and masturbating to a rape video?

[Your chocolate metaphor.]

This is a false analogy for a few of reasons. Most importantly, however, it is possible to produce chocolate without exploitation. It is not possible to produce pornography without exploitation. It isn't even possible to conform to existing health and safety laws; the only reason why the pornography industry exists (in the USA) is because the government hasn't been enforcing these protections.

Here's an article [5] discussing how prostitution (and pornography is just prostitution on film) upends traditional consumer models (and is therefore not comparable with other "products"). Here is a post comparing the pornography and film industries, so as to highlight the inherent and inescapable differences between them. And another post, with the same purpose.

Conclusion

Pornography results in violence against women and the majority of it is violence against women. No amount of false analogies or loaded questions will change that.

References under the cut:

Wheelock College, USA, et al. “Hentai and the Pornification of Childhood: How the Porn Industry Just Made the Case of Regulation.” Dignity: A Journal of Analysis of Exploitation and Violence, vol. 8, no. 1, Feb. 2023. DOI.org (Crossref), https://doi.org/10.23860/dignity.2023.08.01.03.

Fight the New Drug. “What Is Hentai Porn, and Why Is It So Popular?” Fight the New Drug, https://fightthenewdrug.org/exposing-the-new-wave-of-extreme-hentai-animated-porn/.

“Why Are People Sexually Attracted to Cartoons? Nikolaas Tinbergen’s Concept of ‘Supernormal Stimulus’ Explains Why Humans Are Attracted to a Heightened Version of Reality.” Your Brain On Porn, https://www.yourbrainonporn.com/rebooting-porn-use-faqs/how-is-internet-porn-different-from-porn-of-the-past/why-are-people-sexually-attracted-to-cartoons-nikolaas-tinbergens-concept-of-supernormal-stimulus-explains-why-humans-are-attracted-to-a-heightened-version-of-reality/.

“Relevant Research and Articles About the Studies.” Your Brain On Porn, https://www.yourbrainonporn.com/relevant-research-and-articles-about-the-studies/.

Farley, M. (2018). Risks of Prostitution: When the Person Is the Product. Journal of the Association for Consumer Research, 3(1), 97–108. https://doi.org/10.1086/695670

[loneberry]

Agustín Fernández Mallo on metaphor

“That we are in a time dominated by magical thinking is demonstrated by the incontestable fact that people increasingly make less of a distinction between metaphor and reality; the metaphor is assumed to be a truth, in its strict literalness. It is not that metaphors aren’t true, and far less that they aren’t real – they are at least as real as a theory – but rather that they have a different nature, the nature of analogies, figures that, while they relate to what we tend to call ‘reality’, bring something else into being: the maturity of an intellect that sees relations between things without confusing them as one and the same. In every period marked by magical thinking, it is more common than ever for love – the only thing that is not a metaphor for something else, the only thing that is raw material for the world, the only thing that, were it to become visible, would make us tremble in pure terror – to be subject to the fantasy-making of poems and made-for-TV films, of politics and markets. But there is more: if we consider it to be true (which it is) that only humans understand what a ‘representation of reality’ is (dogs do not distinguish between the rules governing a tree and a photo of a tree, they see both as occupying the same plane of reality), then only humans comprehend what a metaphor is, precisely the opposite as happens in periods marked by magical thinking, periods that therefore come to belong to animals. But there is even something else: if animals do not distinguish between the tree and the photo of the tree, it is only humans that detect what we can call a ‘lag’ in the perception of the two things, a difference, a kind of vertigo similar to that which exists between the magic number and its corresponding trick, between the character and the real-life actor. Hellenic physics knew this, and Newton did too, but it was not until Einstein’s arrival that cause and effect could be shown as not instantaneous, that between the effect and its cause there must always be an intermediate time of interaction, a ‘lag’, and that no line connecting whichever events can be faster than light. That human – only human – ‘lag’ enabling us to distinguish reality and metaphor, tree and photo of tree, is also a maximum line of light that submerges magical thinking in a cheap trick. Well, this very vertigo produced by the lag is love; but the love of the real. (Lag love)”

—Agustín Fernández Mallo, The Book of All Loves

Uncanny resonance with a post I made here on poetry/metaphors/gaps/psychosis. I said the lag was poetry, Mallo says the lag is love.

[batbeato]

I've talked briefly before about intersex Sayo, but... There's a lot you can read into regarding her relationship with her intersex status and with the perisex expectations she grows up with.

(This post reads Sayo using an intersex lens, as their experiences are analogous to real-life intersex people and can be seen as a metaphor for them, even if Sayo is never confirmed to have been born intersex.)

Sayo grows up with all sorts of expectations centered around the perisex 'AFAB' body: she will have a feminizing puberty, she will develop hips and feminine fat distribution, she will grow breasts, she will have periods, she will be capable of having children. But it goes beyond that - these are not only expectations Sayo has for herself, but expectations that society has for them, as well. People raised as girls are told that breasts and hips and fertility and vaginas will make them attractive to men, defines them as women, and makes them valuable - and thus the inverse is also the case: that without these things, they are not attractive to men, they are not women, and they are not valuable.

This equivalization of sex to gender means that Sayo, as they grow older and do not experience the perisex puberty promised to them, begins to feel unattractive, de-gendered, and worthless. This feeling only grows, and culminates in their self-definition as 'furniture', once they realize that they not only will never experience perisex puberty, but also will never be capable of reproducing. They say that "this body... isn't even capable of love" - "love" as is defined by the capacity to perform (heterosexual) sexual acts that can result in procreation. This can also indicate that Sayo wasn't physically capable of receiving vaginal penetrative sex. If Sayo was born perisex and AMAB (my personal preference), their vagina was surgically created. It may not be capable of pleasurable intercourse, or may not be able to fit a penis at all (or at least, without further procedures, such as dilation). If Sayo was born perisex and AFAB, their injuries and subsequent surgery may have resulted in a similar state for their vagina: one where vaginal penetration is painful or impossible.

(I personally believe Sayo to be AMAB, owing not only to the "man from 19 years ago" but also to Lion's status as the heir and more masculine-leaning presentation, something that would likely have been discouraged or looked down upon if Lion had been AFAB. I also lean towards it because of how AFAB Sayo/Lion has been used in the past to deny and discredit Sayo's trans identity and to enforce cishet norms onto Beatrice/Battler's and Will/Lion's relationships.)

Regardless of Sayo's assigned gender at birth, Sayo, both before and even moreso after the reveal of their past, felt unattractive, degendered, and desexed. In their attempts to claim identities that conformed to the allopericishet patriachy they grew up in, they lived their life as Shannon, Kanon, and Beatrice.

Shannon represents the ideal femininity: she has large breasts, she is submissive, and she is kind and emotionally mature. Beatrice's body, much like Shannon's is sexualized - blonde, blue eyes, large chest, all for the sake of feeling attractive - though she is allowed to express non-feminine behaviors so long as she is not made visible to anyone. Through Shannon and Beatrice, who are both imagined to be perisex ideals, the intersex Sayo is able to reclaim her sexuality, though fear of being sexless remains.

In EP2, Beatrice taunts Shannon with how animalistic the desires of men are - "the black-as-tar lust of that glasses man behind you", "men are flies and maggots that get caught in your scent and gather around you". I believe this is a combination of things: fear of sexual assault, as her mother and potentially grandmother were assaulted; shaming of her own sexuality and desire to be seen sexually; and an affirmation that she is, in fact, sexually desirable. Beatrice, in saying that Shannon is an object of sexual desire, no matter how negatively framed, is affirming that if Sayo presents as a cis perisex woman, she is able to become attractive. She is able to escape being the sexless, genderless 'thing' she feels that her intersex status makes her.

In contrast, Kanon, who is masculine, is not ideal: he does not have large muscles, he is not emotionally mature, and he is effeminate. He is a man, but he is also not one who would be valued in the patriarchal society due to his lack of 'proof' of manhood (in strength, in sexual conquest, in appearance, in partaking in toxic masculinity). He is the closest Sayo comes to acknowledging their status as intersex and gender non-conforming - as someone who does not neatly fit into the biological sex binary or the constructed cisgender binary. And he is the persona who does the "dirty work" that stained his soul long ago, the persona who takes no active action and instead denies Jessica's affection, the persona who does not present himself as a sexual being at all.

The most we have is when Kanon takes out his blade in front of Jessica in EP2: the innuendo there is that he is exposing his status as furniture - his (intersex) body, and (intersex) genitalia - to her. He is displayed as a heroic knight who protects Jessica, thus reinforcing his masculinity (men and the masculine as the protecting force for the frailer, feminine idols). Only in Sayo's fantasies can their intersex body "pass" and fit into the cissexual ideal.

So Sayo finds their sexuality in presenting as perisex: their 'true' intersex self, disabled and degendered and desexed, is hidden away and removed from the perfect Golden Land.

I believe many intersex people can resonate with Sayo's feelings: sometimes to be intersex is to be hypersexualized, to be seen as "having both". But to be intersex can also mean to be degendered, desexed, and othered. It can mean that you are not seen as, or do not feel like, someone capable of being an object of sexual or romantic desire. Our genitals and non-conforming sexual characteristics are "freak shows" that need to be "fixed" for us to be "normal" and to engage in heterosexual relationships, and those efforts to "fix" us may only increase those feelings of being degendered, desexed, and othered.

For me there is something that I deeply relate to in Sayo's perception of their (analogous to) intersex body, and in their attempts to present as perisex in order to "fix" what is "wrong". But in the end, even Kanon, the most unlovable, intersex persona of them all, is loved in the Golden Land.

[abuse-ken]

Ito is not an evil murderer for no reason: a meta

I'm going to be breaking down the lyrics and PVs of three songs: Yellow Papa (x), Dear Suns (x), and Flower War. This is a chronological look at Ito's story. Feel free to look them over if you need a review :3 the song is linked in the first word, and the lyrics in the second. I left a second translation for Yellow Papa and Dear Suns because I like the second one better for readability. Flower War has lyrics in the captions of the PV

Before I start: As I understand things, this series of songs by Abuse is centered around a cult that primarily idolizes indulgence to any degree. Especially through Ito and Zoy, we see sex and cannibalism heavily intertwined. For this reason, I interpret cannibalism to be both literal and a metaphor for rape

Ito himself is the oldest of four siblings. He is fully man himself, but serves as a parallel to Ote in that his mind is that of a beast while his body isn't. His mom is a beastman, and his absent father is a man

Yellow Papa

*Please note that Ito is described as "only just learning how to read" during this song, making him around five

The general point of this song (which I assume most people don't know as this is a song that was initially supposed to be Dear Suns, but Abuse cut and put on Abuse Bundle instead) is to illustrate Ito's childhood. Both this and Dear Suns seem to serve similar purposes, both coming out after Flower War to further humanize Ito. This song follows a parentified Ito and his siblings as Ito begs for love from their parents. So fun and chill ty Abuse

We see a lot of talk of meat and being eaten, as is standard with Ito ofc:

Most notably, the line "'Love us, love us!', My mother's fangs gobbled me up, and I became raw meat". Obviously Ito was not literally eaten here, which leads us to the conclusion that Ito's mom is sexually abusive

This leads straight into "That sort of sensation was of falling from the top", tying back to the opening line of "I ate the raw meat that had fallen from the top", meaning one of two things. Either we are meant to take the first verse's lines as autocannibalism, a metaphor for how he is having to take care of his siblings with their father absent; or we are getting our first glimpse at why Ito might be a cannibal: need. If this isn't meant to be taken as an analogy and Ito is eating "raw meat" (presumably people), this paints a picture of him and his family being in a dog-eat-dog kind of world, having to cannibalize other vulnerable people around them in order to eat

We also see his mother ask if he is going to eat her, which he says he is. This is touched on more in Dear Suns, obviously. He cites his reason for eating her as because his father doesn't love her. With the final chorus showing Ito more desperate for his father's love than food, which he and his family are very clearly lacking, it gives us the general themes of Ito as a character:

Love, sex (and sexual abuse), and eating are all one and the same to him

Dear Suns

*Ito is older here, he seems to be at least a teenager based on the illustrations, but there is no lyrical acknowledgement of his age

As I'm sure most people know, this is more insight into Ito as a character rather than any particular event in his life, outside of the detailing of him eating mother and siblings

To begin with though, we get some elaboration on Ito's life before this song and how he came to be at the church. At about 1:43, the PV reads, "one thousand necks have been severed, so many bodies remain, sever the necks of one thousand [millionares?], blood stains remain even in the shower stalls, I'm in the middle of the street, I spend a year in the hospital, I don't know my name, I don't know where I live, 'you are a child, and this is your new family'." This implies that somewhere in between Yellow Papa and this song, while Ito was still young, he was eventually taken in off the street and to a hospital where he lived for a year, the church taking him in as him "new family" afterwards. This is over the line in the song that reads "you must protect your family, carve it into your DNA," which points to the church directing him into the role he takes on in Flower War to at least some extent

At 1:04, we also see a shot of text that reads, "for the first time in my life, I have a purpose" right as soon as the chorus starts detailing Ito killing and eating people, yet another implication that this is something he took on as more of a job than a crime of passion

There's also a shot of him wearing a collar with a chained lead at 1:26, which is obvious enough a sign of being controlled, especially when all the characters are dog-based. There is an inherent dehumanization to all of the characters in this plotline of Abuse's, but it applies to Ito too, not just the beastmen characters. Despite being fully aware of his actions, he is collared, compared to an animal, and dehumanized by the narrative itself

This song especially is full of evidence that Ito was brought up in the church for the sole purpose of protecting the people in their cult. With several lines about "having to protect his family" and especially "protect your family and their connection to you, it's carved into the spiral/(alternate translation above)", it really makes it seem like he's more of a child soldier for them than just the common interpretation of him being a yandere type. There's also the mention of "xochimiquiztli"* which ties in more with Flower War (obviously more explaination later), meaning not only in Flower War but this song too, he is canonically compared to an honored soldier going on what is basically a suicide mission for the sake of pride and protection of their religion

And of course, the song closes with Ito saying "this is wrong". He's aware that he is commiting horrible acts on some level, yet he keeps doing it because he loves his family

*Refers to a death on the battlefield in a flower war. From the Aztec Empire, roughly translates to "flowery death"

Flower War

*Still no age for Ito, and he is pictured as a fox, so it is hard to gauge

To begin with, I'll give a brief summary of what flower wars are. In the 1450s, the Aztecs were going through a famine, and determined that the gods were angry and needed human sacrifices. In order to obtain these, soldiers were sent out into small, pre-arranged battles to take prisoners. Any deaths (or xochimiquiztli as before mentioned) were considered honorable, and the dead would join the god of sun, fire, and war.

This is tied to Ito's character as a whole. He grew up in the church because of growing up on the streets without food, he is heavily tied to sun imagery in Dear Suns and Flower War (while Zoy is notably tied to fire), and Flower War tells the story of his noble flowery death. In my opinion, this is too much connection to brush off as just reading into things. Ito is almost canonically called a child soldier through this analogy alone

This song really only follows Ito's last kill and his own death, which is a mission he goes on in order to kill people who "made fun of father (Zoy)" and "tried to kill Ote". The whole way he goes on about loving his family and his victims (again, love=sex=hunger to Ito), degrading himself, and praising his family members. He also mentions several times (2:06, 3:26, 4:01) that he is not supposed to kill children, which seems to be his undoing. While reminding himself of this rule, which he seems to only follow because someone else set it for him, he is shot and killed

In the final shot of the song, we also see a carnation that is red and yellow, the red meaning love (or specifically love for your mother, bc he has mommy issues ig) and the yellow representing disappointment and contempt. Like Dear Suns, this final moment displays some level of regret for his actions, and a final callback to his mother, who has now been mentioned in all three of his songs

In conclusion: my blorbo did nothing wrong /j please stop pointing out that he is a cannibal every time I mention liking him

[unmeritedunearnedundeserved]

The Butterfly Law Of Attraction Analogy

When a caterpillar enters into a Chrysalis, many don't know that the caterpillar completely dissolves into a gooey liquid. None of the previous form is left or used. And then out of the goo begins to emerge the new form, the Butterfly. And the Butterfly 🦋 is capable of doing things that the caterpillar cannot. The Butterfly has wings and can travel great spans and distances that the caterpillar couldn't even imagine.

Likewise, in your learning of the Law of Attraction, there is a radical psychological transformation that one undergoes. A spiritual metamorphosis.

In order for one to evolve into the metaphorical "Butterfly" which can manifest all of their hearts desires and be capable of tremendous things, they must completely dissolve the previous concept of themselves.

Their old self-image must in effect be dissolved into a formless substance, similar to the goo that the caterpillar melts into.

None of your previous state of consciousness, your previous "form", can enter into the state of consciousness which would manifest your desire.

You must completely renounce your old identidy and identification in which you've seen and understood yourself to be an external being with an individualized personality.

You're "John Smith", "Sarah Jane", "Marlon Chavez" identidy must dissolve in order for you to evolve into the state which would effortlessly manifest your desires.

From your "caterpillar" (external / second cause) identidy, you can do nothing. For you are in the race belief of thinking you are a second cause, subject to the external world and somehow divorced and separate from the divine.

From your "Butterfly" (First Cause) identification, all things are possible to you because all things have already effortlessly been done for you, without any requirements of works or merits.

The caterpillar you, still believes in deservability and feels itself to be in need of external things or people to become whole and complete.

The Butterfly you, which is your true self, is whole and complete in and of itself, and is a law unto itself. None can stay it's hand or say unto it "what doest thou?"

The caterpillar you sees itself as subject to conditions.

The Butterfly you sees itself as author of conditions and full in possession of its desires, right now.

Enter fully into this Butterfly identification, for in doing so all of your desires effortlessly manifest into the external.

And in receiving greater revelation of the Law of Attraction, you will find yourself being effortlessly released from your old self concept which imprisoned you in your previous conditions and had you "crawling around" on your hands and knees in this world.

First Cause Consciousness has "wings" that second cause consciousness does not. And in order to experience the fullness of these wings, you must completely die to the previous indentification.

Let go of yourself as a caterpillar completely surrenders to the process of the chrysalis which melts it down and transforms it. For your chrysalis is a greater revelation of First Cause Consciousness, which leaves you changed, such that you will NEVER be the same.

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 25/8

Aw, thank you! Sometimes I actually think I overdo it a little - that my dives are a little too deep. This is how I consume media IRL, though, so if nothing else, it's authentic.

The Battlefield is definitely growing. The spatial warping makes it hard to measure how much it's growing, so it could definitely be exponential, especially if we keep adding higher dimensions.

As for how Jack matches up against Bec - Jack is definitely smarter, but he's also a lot more vulnerable, since losing the Ring will render him powerless. He'd have to be incredibly careful in a fight, especially against someone just as fast as he is.

I still think Bec has the edge, but his victory is far from guaranteed. I totally understand why Jade wouldn't want to risk it.

Imagine what Eridan would have said to a 'lowly greenblood' like Jade.

Yeah, there's no way trolls have therapy.

I hate to say it, but the Alternian version of therapy is probably moirallegiance. You're supposed to rely on this one person to keep you emotionally stable - and if you're not outgoing or charismatic enough to find a moirail, you don't even have that.

Of course, this system has nothing in common with the relationship dynamics of any culture on Earth. We really dodged a bullet there!

Gamzee really leans into the 'court jester' aspect of being a bard. He doesn't take anything seriously, nor is he expected to do so - he's just off to the side, dancing.

Yeah, my prediction is that Vriska is going to use him.

If she can manipulate Tavros into trying to control Jack, she might actually be able to remove his Ring. I speculated that she might use some sort of cheat to gain an advantage in their fight, and I think we may have found it.

He casually controls Becsprite later on, so I don't think he needs their goals to align.

As for why Bec didn't try to save Jade - I think he knew instinctually that someone was going to make him save her, so he didn't need to do it manually. That's Alpha, baby!

I can't tell if I've reached the controversial part, to be honest. Was there discourse about whether Tavros had done anything wrong?

Personally, I think it's hard to argue that he didn't, but other characters have done much worse - and in much more ambiguous scenarios, too.

Lord English is coming, send help plz

Thank you! It's kind of funny actually - I know that Homestuck's irregular update schedule used to drive people mad, but I'm reading it at a similar pace, with similar irregularities, and it really has been a chill experience on my end.

Maybe it's because I'm not participating in the fandom the way live readers were, and therefore, I'm not subject to the weapons-grade hiatus brain that Cat has war stories about.

Poor Kanaya - she really knows how to pick 'em. Rose is definitely less stressful to crush on than Vriska, though.

I recently saw this quote for the first time in a while. Excited to learn which of the comic's several thousand plot points it's referencing.

@spyril4132 asked: i have seen this in my youtube recommendations and must now share [s] descend but with silvagunner's high quality nuclear rip - YouTube

Legitimately amazing, and perfectly timed.

For anyone doesn't know about Silvagunner, please take a dip down this rabbit hole.

I do wonder how she's getting physical details about the Sun. Isn't it, like, fully outside of conventional reality?

Maybe the Sun is physically real, despite being in an unreal location. Technically, that's also the case with sessions.

I do like the 'music player' metaphor from an earlier ask. You don't necessarily have to use discs - a cassette player is also a good choice, or maybe an older variety of music box.

If you want to stretch the symbolism a little, your Time Player could wield something really kooky, like an iPod Nano, MIDI keyboard, or analog radio.

(Sally the Time Player would wield Rhythm Heaven for the Nintendo DS.)

It's been years since I've watched Primer, actually. I remember enjoying it, but I don't recall enough to give a proper review. Rewatch time!

Yeah, the rules for Captcha codes are all over the place. This example implies that they hold the general idea of an object, without any 'corruption' - but when John's Ghost Dad poster was defaced, its code did change.

The implication, I guess, is that defacing a poster counts as changing its nature, but spilling oil on a pogo ride does not. It's weird.

It is odd that it's marketed as a beta. Sburb and Sgrub seem almost identical, the latter's bifurcated session notwithstanding.

The human session failed, yes - but it failed due to manipulation, sabotage, and a generous helping of terrible luck. If Gamzee prototyped one of his clown posters, Jack's regicide could just as easily have happened in Sgrub.

All that said - when it comes to software development, I'd trust Sollux over Grandpa any day. If one of those games is more stable, it's Sgrub.

Alright, that one's actually pretty great lmao

[dungeons-and-dictions]

It’s another Analysis Friday, about Hazbin Hotel’s Lucifer and those pretty, pretty wings!

(Spoilers for Season 1 abound)

Did you notice that the angels have slight glows around them?

What makes this an Analysis Friday post is that Lucifer also has a glow! How does Short Duck Daddy have a glow when he fell from Heaven and created Hell? We all know he’s fallen, but what does that mean in the Hazbin world?

Lucifer speaks of angelic power and sacrificial lambs, pummels Adam as you would expect a powerful entity to do to a human, and keeps those amazing wings. There’s no way this is a true Hell form.

But we have more evidence to consider!

When Sir Pentious arrives in Heaven, he has a color palette shift and minor tweaks to his appearance. The same form is kept. This also makes me wonder if, had Lucifer been killed, would he have undergone changes too?

If you think about it, Lucifer makes complete sense. He’s not Hellborn like his daughter, and perhaps to strip Heavenly features would mean to kill them. Lucifer is also very good-natured. He never hits first, literally or metaphorically, for one. Lucifer seems to always just end the problem.

I personally also find him endearing because we have similar strains of depression - still functional, kind, and trying, just internalizing shame to the point it seems the world is against us always.

All of this lends evidence to my theory that only the environment and expectations of it determines whether someone is an Angel or a sinner. And by another theory of mine, being in Heaven or Hell has a lot to do with your mindset, too.

Despite creating Hell millenia ago, Lucifer has never fallen to the typical Hell stereotypes. He created it for one, making his analogy to Charlie in Episode 5 an exact comparison. Because he never had those connotations of what Hell should be like, he retained his Heavenly powers and features.

I’ll even bet he just reflavored to the pentagram visuals to separate himself from normal Angels!

And of course, this whole analysis begs a final question: how did Lilith gain her horns if she fell with Lucifer and not by normal human means?

[spade-riddles]

ignore if you/this has been discussed before, but i was just reading an article that referenced the “doomsday clock” that the evening news used to show almost nightly.

it was an analog clock that if it were to hit midnight, would mean we would be in nuclear war. the closer the minute hand was to 12, the closer the world would be on the brink of detrimental consequences.

her clock just hit midnight at the grammys when she announced ttpd, right? do you think this album could be her finally dropping the act?

her albums have been getting gayer and gayer (imo), Midnights arguably being one of her gayest—the minute hand getting closer to midnight on the clock, if you will.

she’s been dropping hints (hairpins) in her last few albums, but maybe ttpd is no longer hints. maybe it’s a full on, no reading between the lines, slap you in the face gay?

Two reasons I do not think this album will be much louder than her recent ones. 1) 🎃 anon said this is a story in 11 parts. Their stories are metaphors. This is TS11. So I think this album will be similar in that people still need to use critical thinking skills to see her truth. Also, she is still touring until December 2024. So I think she doesn't get too loud before that.

[dez-wade]

I’m trying really hard not to like get genuinely upset or pissed off by this and I kind of want to hear someone else’s opinion and you’re always willing to discuss some of the more “negative” aspects of what’s happening which I appreciate! Somebody being upset or frustrated doesn’t give them the right to behave in certain way or say certain things and then just have everyone be like “oh but he’s had a hard few days and he’s frustrated 🥺” bad is a fully grown man. He should be able to handle genuine criticism and for him to sit there and say “no but the words we use are important Tina” all obnoxious when Tina was telling him FOR HIS OWN GOOD to not get all worked up and mixed up in exact definition and terminology that Etoiles was using to describe what happened to him. Etoiles called it a bug. Etoiles is also not a native English speaker yet he CONSTANTLY goes out of his way to speak English to his friends INCLUDING BAD just for bad to be all “well the exact language he uses matters” No it doesn’t. not in this situation it’s doesn’t. Let’s see bad sit and discuss something in French and then be told “well actually the exact wording you use matters so I’m going to just continuously go on and on about why you are in fact wrong because you used one word incorrectly” I’m sorry but he’s trying his best to ACCOMMODATE YOU!!! As someone who’s first language is French it’s just really upset me and I really enjoy bads content so it’s just gotten to me even more than usual

Yeah, it thought he contesting what Etoiles was saying it wasn't the right thing. A lot of times Bad, and most English speakers tbh, think they're on the same level in English which isn't the case.

Forever had trouble with this a lot of time with him, and started speaking Portuguese out of spite in one of their discussions.

Fit, who said "disengage" yesterday and Etoiles didn't understand making these two separate and Etoiles die.

It's not out of malice, but they forget how privileged they are and that people are communicating with them in their second language. Semantics really didn't matter right there. And Tina was right to try to not make him dig himself deeper.

At least he seemed to understand in the end, because it took Tubbo, to explain to him what it was. And he even suggested to report the bug when Tubbo talked about how something similar happened to him and Pac in the toxic gas event, so the admins won't only fix the quicksand one.

I think BBH viewers (I watched BBH a lot, now not so much) are kinda used to when goes in his "explanation" mode and starts using metaphors, analogies, and explains pretty much the same thing like 10x times using different words. So I was not really surprised when he started talking about that. That's just his personality, I guess.

But Bad really should be more conscious when he's talking to people whose first language isn't English and less over-focused on small, irrelevant things.

[howdy-cowpoke]

TIMING: Friday, 4/19 (Monty’s birthday! Oops!) LOCATION: Prickly Pear Acres PARTIES: Monty (@howdy-cowpoke) & Jade (@highoctanegem) SUMMARY: Jade pays a visit to Monty on the farm, but it's meant to be their last. CONTENT WARNINGS: Gun use

—

The math had never ever mathed more. (2+2 should be shaking in its boots, in fact). Jade almost thought she was playing with a cheat code when all those lame hunters at The Three Daggers started grumbling about some farm filled with undead near the death pit. The little tip almost made up for the fact everyone in there preferred ABBA over the A-Teens.

Right, irrelevant. (But actually, the A-Teens were never irrelevant in her heart).

The point was, she didn’t even have to ask where said farm was located, cause she was positive she already knew anyway. Actually, she’d already visited once. So why not pay an old friend a visit? And maybe this sudden need to take on this side quest came from a need for a big moment, what about it? Maybe she had been in a bit of a flop era (one that could be dated several years back, hypothetically). Something something about her ego constantly getting beat down. Metzli. The banshees. And well, Regan too… in a different way. So what if she was doing this to feel better about herself? She was also putting a stop to a very obvious problem threatening Wicked’s Rest population. Two undead birds (or like, dozens) and one stone (several knives and a gun) (She was gonna have to work on that analogy). 

Jade showed up to Prickly Pear Acres dressed as one of their own. Throwing ‘howdys’ and tipping her hat (that she bought at a costume shop) at everyone who wished her a good day. It was a very polite group, she had to admit, despite her skin thrumming in their presence. And see! Everybody was so quick to judge her commitment to ridding the town of the undead. They always assumed she like, despised the creatures she’d vowed to cull. It was so not like that at all? It was never personal. Case in point, Monty was the metaphorical father to her pride and joy. Her Lullaby. Why would she have anything against him? Nope. It was just that she had to uphold the Bloodworth’s code and this big farm concealing something that was totally starting to feel like a horde the more she sauntered around the field was a stepping stone in her journey. Similar to how every pop girly had to have a feat with a problematic rapper to appeal to a different audience. Simple as that. 

Eventually, Jade found her way toward the big main house. (And yup, she did get distracted with all the adorable animals. Sometimes multitasking existed, alright?). She did not plan on starting little. Big prizes only. Her mind was set on Monty before she could think of going down the metaphorical food chain. Thinking too long about food as it pertained to zombies wasn’t something she wanted to do, actually. 

She didn’t barge inside the residence. She had like, manners and stuff. But she did tap on the window and stared from outside in a totally non-creepy way as she spotted the man of the hour. She waved at him enthusiastically, beckoning him outside. 

—

Things on the farm had been… chaotic. 

No. That was putting it mildly. They'd been fucking awful, and Monty had no one to blame but himself. He'd not believed the threats he'd been getting, and his poor animals had paid the price of that hubris. So many of them were brutally slaughtered, and he couldn't—no. No more of that. Wallowing would solve nothing. 

The man of the hour, as he would've been very embarrassed to know he was thought of, was just emerging from the master bedroom downstairs when he spotted movement in one of the windows. Plopping his hat down on his head, he smiled tiredly when he realized who it was, returning the wave and giving a nod. He grabbed his jacket from the hook on the wall and headed to the front door, shrugging it on as he opened it and stepped out onto the porch. 

“Buenos días, amiga,” he greeted Jade with a grin that might have been a bit lacking in the usual warmth. “What brings you here today, ah? I was just about to go take Nero for a run… come! Walk with me.” He'd spent just about every afternoon with his horse since that night, recalling the terror that had gripped his unbeating heart as he raced to Habanero's stall, dreading the worst. But the Thoroughbred was fine, if not a little spooked, and he hadn't had yet another loss to mourn yet. 

Motioning in the direction of the horse stables with a jerk of his head, he took a step and waited for Jade to fall in beside him and explain why she'd come. “Is Lullaby all right?”

—

“Buenos!” Jade replied, her head bobbing with enthusiasm, bringing two fingers to her forehead for a salute. Despite his grin (the type that didn’t reach all the way to his eyes), Monty looked a little rough. But like, who wouldn’t look a little worse for wear if you had to sustain yourself with brains? Tragic, wasn’t it? But Jade could help with that. She would help with that. She’d erase that tired look on his face. The how was just… a small detail. (Don’t even worry about it)

Jade was momentarily thrown off by the mention of his horse. Cause, look… She could’ve been a horse girl in another life, okay? If she hadn’t grown surrounded by weapons and hunter codes, if her life had been different, she could’ve been a horse girl. She would’ve loved being one. The first time she rode one, (just like, a couple months ago in that weird silent stable) was the freaking best time of her life. So duh! She definitely wanted to say hi to Monty’s horse. “I was in the neighborhood,” she circled around… the acres of field. “Metaphorically. I was visiting a friend in the death pit” she pulled her lips together into a frown, cause she was sad for her imaginary dead friend and all. “And I thought, why don’t I stop by… and see if my bud has any more adorable kitties up for adoption?” That might just save his life again, actually. Nope, wait. Priorities. Focus. 

“I can’t say no to Habanero time. Plus! you know, if any of your other babies are safe for a beginner, I’d love to join you on that walk. It’s been a stressful couple of weeks, days even, I’d love to just, sway a little bit,” Jade blew a dramatic sigh, falling into step. It wasn’t so hard, cause Monty wasn’t that much taller than her. (Her leg did feel a little stiff from the recently healed wound in her belly). “Oh! Lullaby is perfect. She’s the best cat in the world, and she has a twin now! My… friend gave him to me,” she pulled out her phone, from the big coat she wore for the only purpose of concealing her blades, and the gun. And whoops, she needed to change that lock screen, didn’t she? Maybe tomorrow, or like, next month. (No rush, Regan would stay gone). She searched through her photos, until she found one of her babies and turned the screen toward Monty to show him. “There they are, Lullaby and Melody” she smiled sweetly at the loves of her life. (The ones that couldn’t leave her). They were being especially cuddly with her these days, cause she was probably reeking pathetic girl scent. 

Jade pocketed her phone and happily walked with Monty, eyes darting around, scouting the area. To the untrained eye, it might just look like her being super curious. It wasn’t too long a walk until they reached the stables. This was so convenient, actually. It was like Monty also got the script. (What a good scene partner). “You have a lotta people working here, huh? Is it like, one huge family to you?” 

—

“Oh.” He wasn’t really sure what to say to that. “I am… sorry for your loss.” Visiting someone in the death pit seemed a strange custom, but then he supposed it was no more strange than visiting a grave. This grave just happened to be shared with many, many other people. And it had recently caved in on itself a bit. “You should be careful out there, the ground seems to be swallowing itself and I do not think it would be good for your health to fall in.” And who knew what sorts of beasts might linger in the underdark? Still he smiled, shaking his head. “Afraid I do not have any more kittens for you though. Maybe next time.” Only if another stray pregnant cat happened upon the farm, since Señora had been fixed since her last litter. 

His smile actually brightened somewhat when she expressed interest in riding with him and he gave a quick nod. “Ah, yes! Manzanita is the perfect horse for beginners! I would love to have you come with.”  He glanced at the phone as it was turned to him, expression softening at the sight of the cats. “That’s great, I’m glad she has a buddy! They’re very cute together.” 

After the pair had arrived at the stables and Monty had started the process of getting Habanero saddled up, Jade asked him a question he didn’t rightly expect, but one he supposed shouldn’t have come as a surprise. A part of him felt a little guilty for feeling even the tiniest hint of suspicion, because Jade had never been anything other than kind to him. It was all this business with the night market and the threatening letters he’d been getting… after what had happened the night Kaden almost died, he was overly anxious about questions regarding the farm and the people that lived and worked there.

But this was Jade! There was no need for concern. 

“It has become that over time, yes,” he agreed, smoothing out the blanket over Nero’s back. The blood bay craned his neck and nosed at Monty’s head, pushing his hat askew and nibbling at his long hair. The cowboy seemed unbothered, just smiling and letting the horse do what he pleased, focused on his task. “We take in… strays, as it were. People with no place else to go and with no one else to turn to. Help get them back on their feet. Many of them choose to stay and live here.” He glanced over at Jade before tightening one of the straps around the horse’s middle. “I found it difficult to connect with people for a long time, but the folks here… they have grown on me.”

—

Jade shrugged over her imaginary loss, not wanting to put Monty in an awkward position (not yet at least). “It's totally chill, it was her last wish. She said, and I quote: I finna be in the pit” She wiped her face for a fake tear, looking up at Monty when he offered advice. Aw. She really did like Monty. But there was no room for sentimentality when you were a hunter. Developing affections only led to failure to complete one's duty (Onyx, circa 2008). It made you sloppy weak sauce (Jasper, same circa). “It was looking pretty bad, I don’t think I’ll be returning… you have nothing to worry about,” she promised with a similar smile. That wasn’t exactly a promise she’d keep though (and provided this day unfolded as expected, he wouldn’t be here to check anyway). The death pit was like, an all-you-can-eat buffet for the undead. It was literally her obligation to do something about it. Then she sighed, a little disappointed to hear about the lack of kittens. Alright then, no saving grace for Monty. Bummer. It was fine. She had to keep her head in the game. It was the best for both of them. 

Oh, speaking of distractions. Well, Manzanita would be there, how could she say no to that? Jade perked up, for several reasons. Actually, that would make it way easier to snipe Monty. She never liked her chances when combat was involved. But to shoot him at a distance? Maybe even with his back to her? Perfect. He’d never suspect a thing. (She’d never get to see the realization dawn on his face) (Which, she weirdly cared about, for whatever reason). She simply smiled at his observation of her adorable cats, cause duh! Of course they were. It was still super nice when people agreed though. She’d make sure to tell them when she… visited them. Times were tricky, she didn’t need the reminder that she couldn’t spend every waking hour with them anymore. Nope, forget about that, her mind was already shifting into slayer mode.   

(She did have to stop herself one last time from vibrating when she caught a glimpse of Manzanita, though)

Her lips stretched into a sweet smile, the spark not quite reaching her eyes when Monty began spilling tea about his farm. Confirming all the rumors hunters were gossiping about at the bar. And there it was, again, the whole being a good monster thing Metzli drilled into her skull. Monty talked about people having nowhere to go and no one to turn to, so of course he stepped in to help rehabilitate zombies. Was he making sure everybody was living by his codes too? And actually, she had no clue what Monty’s codes were. He could be feeding on humans despite his sunny disposition. She knew something about being two-faced! And even if he did follow a similar mentality as Metzli, was he making sure all these zombies were playing nice too? 

Jade hummed, tilting her head in consideration,  watching him get Habanero ready and then move on to Manzanita. It would be weirder if she didn’t bring up the undead situation of it all, right? She let out a chuckle, pacing toward Monty. She still wanted to give friendly, not predator vibes. “That’s so cute, found family is like… a goated trope,” she pursed her lips, waiting for Monty to look at her before continuing. Her gaze narrowed, piercing through brown eyes. “I heard the craziest rumor, the other day…” she huffed a laugh, shaking her head as she did a quick mental inventory of every weapon she was carrying. She cared the most about where exactly her holster was attached to her belt. She couldn’t fumble. “I bet you’ve heard it too! This town I swear. What are you planning on doing about the whole ‘this farm is full of zombies’ stuff? It popped up on… TikTok! You’re gonna need like, a strong PR. My advice? You make fun of it. In on the joke and all,” and actually, depending on his answer, maybe the stables were already the perfect scenario to pull the trigger. Metaphorically and literally. Her problem with Metzli had been that she’d extended her monologue for too many pages, allowing for doubt to creep in. See she learned!

—

There it was again. A question Monty didn't expect on a subject he was loath to discuss with others. Not until he knew he could trust them. And as much as he liked Jade, how much could he trust her? How much did he know her?

The cowboy swallowed his fear and kept his gaze steady and locked with hers, manifesting a somewhat bemused expression and letting it slip over his soft features. “Oh… is that what they are calling migrant workers these days?” So there was a rumor. Whether or not it meant anything to Jade personally, there was a rumor. This was bad, very bad. He itched to pull out his phone and text Kaden at once, but he couldn't. It might look suspicious, and he was still on the fence of whether or not he could trust Jade. “Well, I do not think such claims will mean much in the face of the truth,” he answered coolly, mustering every ounce of his former bravery to keep him from showing his anxiety. He reached for the man he’d been before he’d died. The kind of man that would throw himself on the blade to protect those he cared about. Daisy was in his thoughts as he finished saddling up Manzanita. Beth, too. Denver, Dallas, Ford, and all the rest were all he could think about as he turned again to Jade, reins in hand. “Shall we ride?”

He chose not to bring the subject up again, waiting to see if she would. There was no point in it if she thought it was a ridiculous claim, and if she didn’t think it was absurd, time would reveal her intentions. That was part of the reason why he’d decided to take them on a ride away from the farm, rather than around its perimeter. If this turned bad, he didn’t want his people to be in danger. She might just be asking because she, like the rest of them, was dead. Maybe she was a different kind of dead, like Ariadne was, or something else entirely. Inhuman and seeking company of those like her. Or, the more worrying scenario, she cared about the liveliness of the farm’s inhabitants because she saw them as something to be gotten rid of. Whichever way it went, he didn’t see a benefit to staying on the farm. 

He would not let his wariness show, riding confidently alongside her, and even pulling ahead now and then when the path narrowed. If he still had a heartbeat, it would have been as quick and fluttering as a jackrabbit’s as he tried to discern the nature of this visit. It was sudden, that was certain, and seemed to lack much purpose other than asking after kittens that didn’t exist. That felt a flimsy excuse, but then Monty wondered if he wasn’t just being paranoid. Friends did just drop in sometimes, didn’t they? Just to say hello? Yes, there was nothing especially strange about that, he assured himself. All the same, he kept a close eye on her as they rode, glad that the small talk had not yet turned back to the farm hands.

—

Monty played a good card, Jade had to hand it to him. Not a card that would stop her from doing what she had to do, mind you (no more Metzlis for her!), but… she could recognize the game. She could acknowledge a decent attempt at switching narratives. Her lips twitched, sharing a knowing look. There was no reason to goad him further, actually, she got the reaction she wanted. “Uh-huh, so awful, right? Kids on TikTok, they just have too much free time,” almost as much time as the people scrolling down for hours did. (She’d know). “We shall!” She changed subjects, grabbing the reins offered to her, and following Monty outside the barn. (The mounting took three tries, but if no one was there to see it, did it count?).  

Jade had questions about his past, obviously. When didn’t she? Had Monty been a target B.M (Before Metzli), she would’ve wanted to hear him out, a lot of undead just needed that. He must’ve suffered horrors post-transformation, no doubt about it. He must’ve had tales about losing control and harming others. Killing, too. That was a given. Becoming undead was a curse she wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy (the country of Ireland). And Jade would’ve found ways to reassure him, to look at him with compassion, a promise ready on her lips: She’d fix him. (Cause everyone wanted that, right?). But after Metzli, she promised herself she’d be careful with her sympathy. Maybe it had always been a mistake to approach it like that. As a kindness. Which, it still was, ending an undead’s suffering always was, but it didn’t need to be explained every time. And actually, yup! It was super dumb to feel like she had to justify herself, as if there was anything wrong with carrying her duty. She couldn’t expect every undead to get it, her purpose. Her decisions had to be sharper. So they would be (Ruby would be proud of her display of pragmatism).  

There was somebody else in her mind though. Her heart, really (always). Someone who would’ve questioned her intentions, her need to go after someone who appeared innocent in every sense (as if there was innocence in a man turned monster, turned killer, stripped from humanity). But that person wasn’t here, and Jade didn’t have to answer to her. She was all the way in Ireland, they couldn’t make each other girl failures anymore! Wasn’t that what they wanted? N— Yup. Yup! She was doing the right thing. She was. Protecting Wicked’s Rest humans from this zombie farm. Stopping this from becoming a horde out of control. “You should totally tell me more about Habanero,” Jade cut off her thoughts before they escalated into something that would have her making stupid decisions. Stupid decisions were reserved for her personal life only, not her job. (Which was the best job in the world! Had she mentioned that lately?). 

Monty took the bait, but Jade wasn’t really listening. Her right hand held onto Manzanita’s reins, while her left dug inside the coat, taking advantage of the small distance Monty and Habanero had created by walking a few feet ahead. She let out some excited hums, encouraging him to keep going, while she took out the gun from the holster and released the safety button. She wasn’t too comfortable with the weight in her hands, way more used to her crossbow, or her knives. But carrying a crossbow into the farm would’ve raised more eyebrows and turned more heads than needed. And when was hunting ever about comfort?

The window of distraction would never be long enough. A second. Two tops, before Monty sensed abnormal movement or checked on her. So Jade lifted her arm, set her sight, right in the middle of Monty’s skull and squeezed the trigger with no preamble. The way she should’ve done with Metzli. No dilly-dallying. Boom. Done. The thunder sent birds flying and… She wasn’t counting on Manzanita to try and save her owner. The horse reeled, sending Jade backward, and throwing her aim off. The bullet flew across the air, missing the target, but scraping Monty’s scalp. Jade tried to get the horse to chill out, but when she realized she wouldn’t, she decided to fire, anyway. It wasn’t about aiming now, she just needed Monty to lose his balance.  

— 

Click. 

So he’d been right to be afraid. Damnit. He didn’t have time to think about these things between the sound of the safety being released, Manzanita neighing angrily, and the deafening crack of the pistol as it fired. His hat went flying though he barely felt the sting of the wound. The boom echoed through the trees, ricocheting off their trunks and frightening the animals they rode who were now uncertain where it was coming from. Habanero, at least, had more experience around firearms, and did not try to buck Monty, but instead stamped his feet and started to turn around with his ears pinned flat against his head. 

As Jade came into view, Monty felt his fear turn into something else. That person he’d been trying to reconnect with before, the person he was when life was harder and demanded more of him in order to survive was the one who stared her down now. He drew his own gun, a revolver that had served him well for decades, but found himself staring down the muzzle of her pistol as she went to fire again. Manzanita was busy trying to free herself of her burden, which made Monty a harder target to hit… but it made Jade a harder target, too. He was careful, reflexively ducking as she fired off another shot, taking aim as he straightened up again but hesitating to shoot for fear of hurting Manzanita. Still, she was just going to keep shooting at him until she succeeded in her goal, so he had to do something. He shouted a command to Habanero, something in Spanish that rolled quickly off his tongue, and the horse ducked his head. Monty fired his weapon, hitting the woman in the shoulder.

He holstered his revolver and dismounted like it was nothing, racing over to Manzanita and grabbing Jade by the waist, ripping her out of the saddle and throwing her to the ground. As he dropped down on top of her to try and wrestle the firearm from her hands, he yelled another command at his horses. Habanero reared and then bolted, nudging past Manzanita on the way and urging her to follow. Both equines sprinted into the trees and away from danger, and Monty dug the thumb of his left hand into her right shoulder, into the bleeding gunshot wound, his right hand clasped over hers that held the gun, keeping her finger away from the trigger. 

“What are you doing?!” he shouted, though he obviously knew the answer. Having the why wouldn’t make much of a difference, but he felt compelled to ask all the same. Dark blood dripped from the graze on his scalp, running through his long hair and down his face, unnoticed by the zombie. 

—

Jade could’ve done better. Nuh-uh. Should’ve. Even before Monty’s horse messed up her shot. She was immediately surrounded by giant ghosts, ghosts she loved, sure, but ghosts who were only summoned to berate her for how she did her job. If she had aimed for Habanero… put a bullet through his leg. She could’ve, should’ve been more cold-blooded. But her heart couldn’t even entertain the idea. No harming the living, she was especially stubborn about that one. She would not join the ranks of all those “does the horse die” lists. The animal had no blame for what his owner did to sustain his lifestyle. 

That was where she knew, she would’ve disappointed her older siblings. That’s how Jade knew she still wasn’t there, at their level. That she wasn’t at the point where she could skew the lines of her conscience if it meant securing the kill. But she would be. She would be. And taking Monty out was a good way of showing it. How committed she was. Despite her numerous missteps, one thing remained constant: She was above the moral conflicts that plagued every other hunter in Wicked’s Rest. She was a slayer. She would slay. (Except… forget about Metzli).  

If anything, she should be grateful to Monty for getting in the way of her highly anticipated, one season in the making, mental breakdown. He was so quick drawing his gun, so sharp on top of the horse. Almost like, he had been a real cowboy and not just part of his gay identity. Her hat flew off her head when Manzanita bucked and thrashed to get rid of her. Joke was on the horse, cause Jade was an expert mechanic bull rider so this was like, a regular Saturday night. (And sure, her recent stab wound was politely asking she’d stop showing off). She wasn’t even sure why she was still trying to stay up on the horse, if not to display core skills that served no one these days (Regan’s loss). Cause the more she emptied her gun with shots that barely grazed him, the more she realized she was wasting time. And she was being ridiculed for the one thing she did know how to do expertly. (She did not practice shooting for two decades for a sweet horse with a gorgeous mane to put her on blast).

Speaking of blast: She heard it. Saw the muzzle on Monty’s revolver flash. Then a precise bullet punched through her right shoulder, exiting the other side. 

It burned. (Duh!) It burned so freaking bad that for five long seconds, Jade had no jokes to crack. Partly shook, partly curious, (partly stupid), she couldn’t help but look down. These types of wounds were not common in her line of work. It was red, her flesh torn with like, a tiny hole. Oh, that did make her a little queasy, actually. Monty became blurry too, from the tears stinging her eyes, so it was kinda nice he seemed to be approaching.

Until she was slammed to the ground with a loud thud. Geez. She wasn’t gonna pretend it wasn’t a little bit hot? The skill, obviously. She appreciated skill in all sorts of creatures. Equally as hot but nowhere near as fun? The sharp, shooting pain all through her limb and chest as a mean thumb jabbed into her shoulder, blood gushing out of the wound. Her chest heaved, a scream threatening to rip her throat, but she contained it through gritted teeth. There was no time for the haze of pain or nausea. Adrenaline was kicking in. She tried to free her left hand, while her right hand tried to twist Monty’s wrist. The problem was, her fingers were not in the mood to obey, so it just felt like she was pawing at him. (She didn’t have it in her to make a joke about how her fingers always worked, but it was there, in spirit).

Oh no. Monty wanted to talk. While they both exerted over her gun? Jade was a multitasker, sure. But not to the point of miracles. And again, had this happened before she would’ve been so disappointed Monty couldn’t see why this had to be done. She would’ve made sure the math was mathing for him too. Screw that. “What does it look… like I’m doing? Taking out… the leader of Zombie Farm. There’s already a game about that, we don’t need the live-action!” dead-action? Her upper body was locked while they battled it out, but her legs still worked, kneeing Monty in the abdomen. One millisecond to ease his grip on her. She twisted (or well, whatever her fingers did) Monty’s wrist and bent her hand just enough for the gun to aim at his face. She squeezed the trigger tasting victory, and… Nothing. She was empty, and she was too tied down by Monty regaining control to reach inside her coat for another magazine. Oh boy.

—

As expected, he knew the answer. Of course, what else could it be? Whether or not the rumor was true, Jade was a slayer. Monty wondered why she’d held onto it before, why she’d accepted the kitten from him and pretended that they were friends when her ultimate goal was to kill him. Maybe this was what he deserved for trusting outsiders. Maybe he should’ve been more careful… or maybe she just needed to be more dead. 

Wincing slightly at the kick to his gut, his grip on her wrist failed just enough for her to make use of it. She pointed the gun at his head, but he didn’t flinch. She pulled the trigger and nothing happened. “You should learn to count your shots,” he snarled, his tone carrying a cold viciousness that he hadn’t heard come from himself since before he died. “You know the scary thing about fighting zombies like this? The more you hurt us, the stronger we get. The harder to kill. You should never take a zombie in hand-to-hand. Never miss that first shot.” He headbutted her then, not hard enough to knock her out, but enough to daze her for a moment so he could get the gun away from her and securely in the waist of his jeans. He was giving her a quick pat down as she started to come back out of it, tossing aside whatever weapons of hers he could get his hands on.

“I should kill you,” he said once her eyes had focused on him again. He had his revolver out and pointed right in her face just as she’d done to him. Her arms were now pinned by his knees as he straddled her torso, staring down at her with a dark, uncaring gaze. “But then I would just be proving your point, wouldn’t I?” He seemed to consider the pros and cons of this for a moment, cocking his head to the side. His face was changed, and it harbored no fear. She couldn’t kill him, he knew that. She could try, and in the process she might turn him feral, but then he would be nearly unstoppable. He would devour her, come back to himself, and the problem would be solved. Or he could kill her here, now. It was self defense. 

He’d been here before, of course. Without the near invincibility that being undead offered, he’d held a gun to a man’s head just like this. He was young, hardly done being a child, and this was the first time he’d had to do it himself. He was usually the decoy, or the sneak thief, but never the killer. Until that day, until things went wrong and he was the only one who had a clear shot. Still he hadn’t taken it, still he’d decided to tackle the man to the ground instead, where they’d struggled in the dust for some seconds before Monty came out on top, frantic and gasping for breath. “Shoot him!” one of his companions had cried out. Monty had faltered, the hand that held his revolver trembling like a leaf in the wind. “You fucking kill him, boy!” Hector’s voice had rang out above the rest, and it was like a sleeper command. Monty had pulled the trigger without hesitation then, blinking in surprise as blood splattered up his front and onto his face. 

He pressed the muzzle beneath Jade’s chin, waiting to see if he’d hear that command again. “If I let you go, I get the feeling you will be back. Is that true?” Hector spoke in a voice only he could hear, and Monty could feel the weight of the hand on his shoulder.

If you want something to make it worth the trouble… tie her up to the horse n’ let him drag her to death. You remember when we did that to that deputy? Bastard was paste on the road by the end of it. 

He remembered. He had called on that version of himself for bravery and strength, but now it had pivoted to violence and cruelty. To survival. 

—

See this was why Jade preferred her crossbow. Or even the classic bow and arrow, (and nope, not just cause she’d gone through a Katniss Everdeen phase). This is what she got for trying to diversify. Ugh. A gun was nowhere near as sexy either. So call it a temporary lapse of judgment, always so rare for her. Monty snarled on top, his face contorting in the monstrous viciousness of his kind. The type of viciousness innocents must’ve seen right before he made a meal out of them. it was kind of him to supply some lore, albeit pointless, cause she already knew that. But it was rude not to reply to him, so she tried, through strained breaths. “Oh yuh— up, that’s like… chapter 3, nuh uh! Maybe 4 of The Book of Unlife, they even… made a movie.” That was why she’d try putting a bullet through his skull while he was at a safe distance, and she would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for Manzanita! “This crash course is fun though, I do… learn… getting my hands dirty. Should we go… to shooting practice too?” No answer, except… Monty had a very strange way of booping her nose. Ow. (So… was that a yes?) 

Nope. Jade felt a little lightheaded, her forehead buzzing from the headbutt. And oh, crap… he had her gun. And a few of her knives. She could forgive him for shooting her, but she did not like him patting her down. It was the only time she showed her discontent with a grunt, keenly aware of the ring in her left hand. It almost pulsed. The ring in her hand which led to the woman who gave it to her, whose hands were the only ones Jade wanted. Speaking of… If, (hypothetically) she were to kick it, would she sense it? She hated that. Jade’s bones were too fresh still for her to come to collect. She needed them to be a little more decomposed. Perfect for her lady. Besides, she had promised to be careful. And right, yikes, there were weapons being pulled from inside her coat, focus, but…

Monty should kill her, was his idea. Jade wasn’t too big of a fan. “I dunno, should you? Cause... that’s definitely not a good look,” he seemed to agree with her in the next beat. Perfect! And talking was really helpful in getting her mind off the pain, actually. Yapping was always the solution, it seemed. But then Monty had the gall to remind her just how much her nerve endings were screaming, once his knees pinned her arms. Feeling left out, the stab wound in her belly also protested. Jade chewed her bottom lip, keeping a scream at bay.  

Monty drew his revolver again. 

The muzzle was still hot from his last shot. Not enough to burn into her skin as he pressed against it, but enough for Jade to let out a small sound of discomfort. But like, maybe that was the fact that she was held at gunpoint, not so much the temperature of said weapon. Could she breathe a little, please? Her chest shook with a labored breath. “I mean, I could lie. I’m good at that. But honesty is the best policy and all so uh, yup! We’re definitely getting a sequel, unless we flop at the office and the studio cancels us. But like, I’d carry a sword or something next time… maybe… my own horse.” Someone, far, far away (where Boneios were a thing) would’ve probably wished she had more self-preservation instincts. Her siblings were rolling their eyes, for sure. She’d seen that look too many times. Most recently when her confidence got that old fart released into the world. Jade stared at Monty with an insolent look. A lot of stuff seemed to be going through his head too, so maybe there was a chance to prey on that. “For what it’s worth it’s not personal. I can’t let fondness get in the way of my duty,” and there was warmth, still lingering. But it was so easy to make the distinction when she weighed the pros and cons. It would always be a no-brainer. Unlike Monty, by the looks of it. “You’re doing dangerous stuff around here. One of your pals loses control… and innocent people pay the price.” That was it, that was all the context he got. It wasn’t like context had helped Metzli.    

She wasn’t gonna die today, that was what she wanted to focus on. Jade lifted a challenging eyebrow at him. Even that hurt like she was being zapped, actually. “Come on. Prove it to yourself, you’re a good monster,” cause apparently everybody was a good monster in this town. Not one shady vampire or savage zombie. Nope. They all stayed home to write poetry or knit or whatever it was they were doing when somehow, humans turned up dead, their blood slurped or their insides munched. Undead here were built different, which was totally suspicious considering the sheer volume of them frolicking around. “You’d let a baby without her mother? Twins! Without their mother. They have no one else,” it was fleeting, but genuine concern passed through her features as she considered leaving Lu and Mel orphaned. She just couldn’t. She lifted her knee again, hitting Monty in the back of his thigh.

—

She should have lied, probably. Not that Monty would have believed her, but still. “This is why I keep my pals fed and happy,” he retorted, looking less upset and more curious. “That’s what we do here—that’s what the livestock is for. Do you really think a bunch of zombies would be capable of running a farm if they were on the edge of starvation? No… we get by on the brains of the cows, the sheep, the goats.” And whatever random human chose to attack one of them and die as a consequence… “People like you, people that we have to kill in self defense… your organs bolster our diet. We ration your pieces to give the animal viscera that extra kick that it needs to keep us going. We have a system, and we do not harm anyone who does not try to harm us first.” He frowned. “When they do try to harm us, they are creating the danger. You shooting me, you created the danger today.” And the way he was feeling now, like the lock had been broken off of a cage door, she may have created the danger that would exist for quite some time. 

Kill her. She’s a threat to you n’ yours. Kill her, it’s what we would have done, Hector said. Monty drew in a long breath, lifting his chin as he still stared down at Jade. “They will find another family,” he said grimly. He had, after all. Everyone he knew had, in some way or another. It was just a fact of life. And death.

Kill her.

His finger twitched on the trigger, squeezing but not hard enough to fire. He could feel Hector’s presence behind him, looming over him and bidding he do what was necessary. But there was something else, some small voice that begged him to stop. Begged him to consider the consequences. Emilio would be given reason enough to come for him, he figured. The people that had attacked the farm not that long ago would hear about if they were in fact connected to the hunter bar, and if Jade was not lying about the rumor. She would become a martyr to some he could guess, and likely many more that he could not. After all, hunters still loved. Kaden… 

Kaden would think less of him, wouldn’t he? He might be alarmed by this behavior, it might push him away… he couldn’t live with that.

“I am a good monster,” the cowboy answered before pulling his arm back, flipping the revolver around in his hand, and whipping her in the head with the grip. Her eyes rolled in her head for a second before they closed, and he was quick to whistle for his horse’s return. Habanero came trotting back up to the scene with some trepidation, but moved to Monty’s side with another coax. Monty grabbed the rope that was attached to his saddle and rolled Jade over, tying her hands and feet behind her back. Her knives and gun he stashed in his saddlebag, then hoisted her up from the ground and draped her over Habanero’s hindquarters. Manzanita came quietly over to them and Monty made sure to give her a treat before climbing onto Habanero’s back and urging the mare to follow with a click of his tongue. 

They’d been riding for about ten minutes or so when the slayer came around, making a sound behind Monty. “Do not throw yourself from the horse,” he warned, not looking back. “Your ankles are bound and you will not get far.” Around them, the trees were starting to thin out and the vast fields were getting smaller as they got closer to town. Monty turned them into the ditch, figuring this was close enough. He stopped, dismounted, and pulled Jade from Nero’s back, throwing her over his shoulder. A few more paces down into the ditch and up the other side, and he set her down roughly against a fence post. Removing his own hunting knife from its sheath on his belt, the zombie paused, staring at her. 

“I am not letting you go because I believe you will change, but I will be prepared for you next time. And there will be no second chances.” With that, he roughly sliced his blade through the ropes at her feet so she could walk herself back to town, but her hands stayed secured behind her. “I’d wish you luck, but… I think I’d rather you die on the road.”