#C J Dennis

[adventuresofalgy]

The weather on Boxing Day in the wild west Highlands of Scotland was disappointingly dismal, dark, and dripping wet, but it was also unusually calm and mild, so Algy decided to explore his assistants' garden, which he had not visited for a wee while.

When darkness fell he was amazed to see a sudden eruption of Christmas lights, and flew over to investigate. Algy was particularly intrigued by a pair of small illuminated reindeer, and being still full of festive high spirits, he just couldn't resist jumping onto the back of one of the deer. Crying "Way for the Sport of Kings!" Algy started to race away with his new Christmas scarf streaming out behind him… But strange to say, he did not seem to get very far on his galloping, galloping steed:

Now is the season of Carnival. Who's for the sunlit course? Who's for the beat of galloping feet And the day and the way of the horse? Who joins the dance, tho' Lady Chance Pleasure or pain may yield, Who comes to the call of Carnival? "Seven to four the field!" This is the week of the Carnival And the sign of a brighter dawn In men's affairs. Who sheds old cares Where gay frocks fleck the lawn? Who would forget old days of fret? Who comes to the call of mirth And the conquering steeds? … They're off! Who leads? And the hoof beats spurn the earth. Then, Hi! for the height of Carnival, Gayer than all gone past: And the nameless fears of the deadening years Forsake men's minds at last. Bright jackets flash beneath the sun As the roar of the crowd begins, And lifts and swells at a great home run: "Who leads? Who lasts? Who wins?" Ho! for the call of Carnival! Way for the Sport of Kings! And men, grown sane, turn once again To all that high hope brings. Who's for the Carnival? Who grows gay Where galloping Fortune speeds Around the turn to gallop our way With the galloping, galloping steeds?

[Algy is quoting the poem Carnival Time by the late 19th/early 20th century Australian poet C J Dennis – a poem about the multi-day horse racing event known as the Melbourne Cup Carnival, held in November, and not about carnival in either the sense of a fair, or the time of wild celebration in Christian countries prior to Lent.]

[nonsensology]

This was supposed to just be a rough sketch, but then I started getting really invested in it.

I hadn't initially intended to include so many picture book characters, but the nostalgia was overwhelming. Does anyone remember the animated short films produced by Weston Woods? My local library used to have a bunch of them on the Scholastic VHS tapes from the late 90s. (I know some shorts were released on the Children's Circle VHS tapes back in the 80s (🎶 Come on along! Come on along! Join the caravan!), and some were packaged in Sammy's Story Shop in 2008.)

Characters:

Max, from Where the Wild Things Are, written and illustrated by Maurice Sendak

Peter, from The Snowy Day, written and illustrated by Ezra Jack Keats

Brother Bear and Sister Bear, from The Berenstain Bears series, written and illustrated by Stan and Jan Berenstain

Pooh and Piglet, from the Winnie-the-Pooh books, by A. A. Milne, illustrated by E. H. Shepard

Owen, from Owen, written and illustrated by Kevin Henkes.

Mouse, from If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, by Laura Joffe Numeroff, illustrated by Felicia Bond

Louis, from The Trumpet of the Swan, by E. B. White

Mr. Toad, from The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame, based on the illustrations by E. H. Shepard

Mr. Tumnus, from The Chronicles of Narnia series, by C. S. Lewis

Pippi and Mr. Nilsson, from the Pippi Longstocking books, by Astrid Lindgren

Willy Wonka, from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, by Roald Dahl, based on the illustrations by Quentin Blake

Matilda, from Matilda, by Roald Dahl, based on the illustrations by Quentin Blake (with an homage to the Mara Wilson movie)

Peter Pan and Tinker Bell, from Peter Pan, by J. M. Barrie

Merlin and Archimedes, from The Sword in the Stone, by T. H. White, based on the illustrations by Dennis Nolan

Pinocchio, from Pinocchio, by Carlo Collodi, based on the illustrations by Enrico Mazzanti

Alice, White Rabbit, and Cheshire Cat, from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll, illustrated by John Tenniel

Rupert Bear, from the Rupert stories, created by Mary Tourtel and continued by Alfred Bestall, John Harrold, Stuart Trotter, and others.

Arthur Read, from the Arthur series, written and illustrated by Marc Brown

Tin Woodman and Scarecrow, from the Land of Oz series, by L. Frank Baum, based on the illustrations by W. W. Denslow and John R. Neill

The Cat in the Hat, from The Cat in the Hat, written and illustrated by Dr. Seuss

a frog on a flying lily pad, from Tuesday, written and illustrated by David Wiesner

Charlotte, from Charlotte's Web, by E. B. White

[chrissdollie]

♡.˚ ୨୧ ｡˚ ♡.˚ boyfriend best friend - bsf!chris x reader

a/n: @sydneysturniolooo, sorry for getting this out so late :c and a special thank you to @imtalkinnonsense and @thebottledwatersupplier for beta reading :)

summary: your best friend chris doesn't understand boundaries, but neither do you. sometimes he feels more like a boyfriend than your actual bf.

warnings/notes: cursing, established relationship with an oc (steve), bsf!chris, ur kinda oblivious, lowercase intended, mentions of sex wc: 1.3k

this party bites. you stand next to your boyfriend in the kitchen, holding an almost empty red cup. his arm is wrapped around your shoulders as he converses with some friends. you boredly swish your drink around in the cup awkwardly. the music playing isn't your taste and you'd much rather be at home with your boyfriend, steve, in your bed where you're comfortable.

your empty hand fidgets with the bottom of your pink skirt, waiting for the trite conversation to wrap up. your disinterested stare picks up from the floor when you hear your name being called by the one voice you can have true fun with. your eyes brighten almost immediately, a toothy smile forming on your face. a dopey grin plastered on his, he waves his hand as he makes his way over to where you stood.

steve's discussion comes to halt when he scoffs at the boy's appearance. chris doesn't even spare him a glance. instead, he gives you a kiss on the cheek as greeting, swatting away steve's arm from where it was resting. you kiss back, your lipgloss leaving a small sticky stain on his left cheek. "hey chris! uh, you remember steve." you smile and turn to your boyfriend who simply nods in greeting. chris' smile falters a little, just a little. he chuckles, "yeah, hey big guy."

his eyes turn back to you, then down to your cup. he grabs it from you, holding it out to steve. "her drink's almost done. go get her a refill, man." steve lets out a small exasperated sigh, taking the cup and muttering, "i'll be right back." chris gives a fake smile as he watches him leave with his buddies. "take as long as you need." he exclaims, winking.

you lean against the kitchen counter. "sooo, i thought you weren't coming..?"

he coughs, scratching the back of his head, the bottom of his black tank lifting up with his arm. "err- well, matt told me you were going. and we haven't hung out in like a week so yknow.." you nod along. he chuckles, shaking his head before continuing. "you looked like you were fucking dead anyhow. thought i'd be your knight in shining armor." he jokes, casually ruffling your hair.

you groan, "ugh, yes, thank you. steve's friends aren't exactly my type of people, i guess." you laugh dryly. he nods along, looking at you up and down. "well, princess, you look fabulous, as always." he compliments your simple look with a soft boyish smile. you sweetly return his smile and reply, "thank you" in a shy tone.

"yknow," chris leans against the counter so he's right next to you, his shoulder just barely brushing against yours. your head turns, watching him as he looks down at his dirty sneakers. "it's been like what- a week since you and i hung out? what're you doin' after the party?" he lifts his head to look into your shameful eyes.

"'m goin' on a date with steve.. 'm sorry."

chris chuckles in response with his eyes widening curiously. ”a date?? oh sweet, are you guys finally going somewhere besides Denny’s?” he smirks. you purse your lips, seeing steve walking towards you guys. you turn back to chris' waiting eyes. you shrug, mildly embarrassed. "we're just going for ice cream." pfft, as if it's any better than denny's.

he lets out a clearly not surprised "oh" as soon as your boyfriend stops right infront of you. he holds out the red cup to you. "here, babe." you take it and thank him before looking into the cup unsuspectingly. you clear your throat. "oh um.. this isn't punch?" you look up with a confused frown, in search of an explanation.

he nods slowly. "yeah.. i just thought maybe you'd like to try-"

chris' laugh cuts him off. steve turns with a raised eyebrow. before he can even ask what's so funny, chris holds up his hand. "try? she doesn't drink, moron." he snatches the cup out of your hand, not breaking eye contact with your boyfriend. you swallow hard. "it's okay.. really it is, but yeah, i don't think i wanna.."

steve rolls his eyes. chris scoffs, pouring the drink out into the sink next to him. your boyfriend simply folds his arms, unfazed. "fine, whatever." he grabs your chin. "they're setting up the kegs in the back. come watch me, kay?" he kisses your lips gently, not even giving you time to respond. he smiles and walks to the backyard.

"that shit is so immature." your best friend giggles, his small silver hoops swinging from his ears as he laughs. you let out a small sigh. he hums, "hey." he gets off the counter, bringing his hands up to cup your face. you giggle against his veiny hands. "how are you, peach? you good?" he asks in a serious voice, not playing around about your well-being. you blink slowly, your eyelashes prettily fluttering. "'m good." you whisper.

he raises both eyebrows. "this baboo- uh, is he making you happy? and no horseshit."

"yeah." you blandly respond with squished lips from the pressure. he drops one of his hands to his side. you lean into the one left on your face, your eyes shutting tiredly. he stares at you for a few seconds like you're an angel sent from heaven just for him. he's fighting the urge to kiss your glossy pout because he then remembers steve's waiting for you.

"ya guy's waitin', ma." he reminds you, tapping your cheek. you open your eyes and nod quickly. you grab your hand and begin walking to the backyard, pushing past the people with a quiet "excuse us" as you drag chris through the house.

minutes later, you're sitting on the grass criss crossed next to chris. your boyfriend stands in front of one of the kegs as he gets hyped up by his group of friends. someone yells out, "remember the rules, boys," and explains the rules quickly. "alright, 3... 2... 1!"

you don't really pay attention to who's winning as you rest your head sleepily against chris' shoulder. his arm wraps around you, his fingers playing with your gorgeous hair. you blink slowly, trying to stay awake. but it's hard since you're so comfortable in chris' embrace. you wanted to mention something that's been on your mind before drifting off.

"yesterday he told me to have sex with him." you mumble loud enough so only chris could hear. he can't help but let out a chuckle. he readjusts himself to look down at you. "so.. was he good?" he wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, though he knows you wouldn't. not his precious angel.

you roll your eyes with a grin. "i told him i wasn't ready. then he got all upset. i dunno why, i've told him multiple times that i'm not ready. he's just so impatient." you whine at the end. you look ahead as people cheer and smack steve's opponent on the back. clearly your boyfriend lost, anyone could see by the annoyed look on his face. you scrunch up your nose at the sweat and beer dripping from his mouth down to his chest.

chris hums, still twirling a piece of your hair with his long fingers. "he just has to deal with it. tell him to watch porn or somethin'."

you laugh, but it stops when steve glares your way. or more so, chris' way. you cough and sit up, brushing some grass of your skirt. chris turns his head towards him and rolls his eyes. "dunno why he gets so pressed all the time. you and i've been friends for years so what the fuck is his deal?"

you hum quietly, shrugging carelessly. chris sucks in a breath for a moment, hesitating on asking you a question. he sees steve walk back inside with his group, probably going to get even more shitfaced. but thats not his problem. a few seconds of silence pass before chris decides to speak up. "well, if you like.. weren't totally comfortable doing it with him, you could with me?"

your eyebrows raise as your eyes widen. he raises his hands up in defense, "nonono, not like in a weird way." he chuckles dryly. "it'd just be so you're prepared, yknow? and anyhow, he doesn't know you're a virgin soo.."

he does raise a good point, you must admit. you twirl a piece of your hair in your manicured fingers, biting your lip softly. he is an experienced guy, you know from all the stories he told you at your sleepovers. but what if you don't wanna have sex with chris just for steve's benefit? you innocently lick your lips before looking into your best friend's stunning blue eyes.

tags!! <3 @leah-loves-lilies @imtalkinnonsense @stargirlsturniololover @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee @freshsturns @emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668

[yawpyawp]

I spent entirely too long on this comic version of my super soft established relationship Macdennis fic

Turns out reconfiguring a written narrative to work as a comic was a challenging but interesting process!

Nerdy details under the cut!!!

1. Dee’s ‘Useless Femme’ t-shirt is from Sapphic Southerner

2. Charlie has always given me Toynbee vibes so the ~classic Toynbee Tile seemed like an appropriate graphic tee for him lol

3. Mac needs to get into shonen anime and he would love Yu Yu Hakusho because it’s literally the greatest anime of all time

4. Dennis’ shirt in the last scene (actually Mac’s shirt) is from 12th St Gym, which was a fixture in the Gayborhood for years and years. Mac was totally going there out of ‘curiosity’ in the same way he was going to the Rainbow before he came out. Unfortunately 12th St closed right around the time Mac came out for good :(

5. (VIEW FULL SIZE!) Lots of little details in the bathroom cuz there needs to be clutter! It’s mostly Dennis-focused items, cuz the thinking here is this is Dennis’ bathroom (cuz I subscribe to the belief that their apartment has two bathrooms)

A: Mid-2000s Phillies ticket

B: Charmacden at the bar :)

C: Literally a printout of this Aquaria Instagram post! I think drag would be a very healthy and constructive outlet for Dennis to explore, and I think Aquaria specifically is sort of an idealized version of what Dennis would want to look like in drag. (Also she’s originally from Philly!)

D: A Lamborghini Countach, ofc ;)

E: Cute lil Macdennis selfie

F: Lipsticks (stolen from Sephora)

G: A mug he stole from a Green Line Cafe and subsequently broke

H: An origami elephant that Mac made to demonstrate Finesse

I: Recently I learned that Rite Aid is Philly-based (although not exclusive to here) so those bandages are specifically store brand for additional local flavor lol

J: Lil figurine of Gobo from Fraggle Rock

K: Drugstore foundation (stolen from Rite Aid)

(I guess this version of Dennis shoplifts a lot?)

[vintagelasvegas]

Travelers Motel, 1100 Fremont St. Postcard, c. 1936

Travelers “Auto Court” opened in 1936. The city commissioners granted permission for a sign on 10/6/36. Actress Sara Haden, Clarence Finney, and Chester Carter were the property owners. Finney and Carter sold their stock to Haden in '37, with Finney remained as on-site property manager.

Clark County Assessor records indicate the motel was built in '26. If this date is accurate, it might refer specifically to the west wing, made of concrete block, as opposed to the east wing of wood frame construction. (More notes on this below.)

Sara Haden sold Travelers to R. M. Dockins in ’47. Dockins also acquired a new, adjacent motel on North 11st St built by Cleveland Schultz, which became Travelers Annex. The rear units of Travelers were demolished, creating a driveway from the main motel to the annex.

A new motel sign was added to the property no later than '62 – it's first seen in a film shot circa '61/62.

In '69 owner Charles Seifert (Charton Corp.) changed the front of the motel, adding a porte-cochére, and a gateway sign by Larsen Electric. In the 70s, owner Ted Candalino added a swimming pool to the motel in the courtyard of the annex, and in '79 the buildings were re-roofed. VMK Corp. acquired the property in '83. The corporation received a notice from the City ordering them to make repairs due to “substandard” conditions in the mid '80s.

Travelers Motel sold to Downtown Project (DTPLV) in 2013. DTPLV closed and boarded up the motel, and later demolished most of Travelers Annex wing, leaving only a two-story section. The main motel and its sign were repainted in 2020.

A note on the Clark County Assessor date: If the '26 date is accurate, the original wing may have been an apartment building. There were no hotels or auto courts in this area before the rise of tourism on East Fremont that followed the opening of Boulder Hwy in '31. An article appears in the Review-Journal on 8/9/30 referring to an apartment building construction at Fremont & 11st which may or may not be the Travelers property. Alternately, another year is referenced in a blurb about the motel's construction on 10/24/47, saying Clarence Finney assisted in building Travelers motel “13 years ago” ('34). Regardless of the building date, there is no record for "Travelers" prior to '36.

Postcard, circa '49 to early '50s. A sign on the far left points to Traveler's Annex entrance on 11st Street. The inset graphic for "Traveler's Hotel Court" was the design of the rarely-photographed main road sign that stood in front of the motel from '36 through the 50s.

In this damaged photo the signs for Travelers and Lucky motels can be seen on the far left. On Fremont St, Hotel Thunderbird's "Academy Awards of Show Business" float cruises the '54 Helldorado parade. Anita Freeman Photograph Collection on Southern Nevada (PH-00245), UNLV Special Collections.

Postcard c. '50s showing Traveler's Annex on N. 11th St. The single story level was demolished in 2019.

The second sign at Travelers was installed in the early 60s. The porte-cochére and gateway sign were installed in '69. Photos by Jane Kowalewski, 4/13/84. Nevada State Museum, Las Vegas # 0130:0107-0108.

10/20/2013, in the year the motel was closed and fenced. Photo by Joseph Dennis.

The sign in 2013 by J. Dennis, and 2022 by Robert BC. DTPLV commissioned the Las Vegas Mannequins to add the climbing figures to the Travelers and Fergusons motel signs. The motel and sign at Travelers were repainted in 2020.

During the fire at Lucky Motel, Dec. 31, 2024. Photo by D Shot 'Em.

Sources include: Short Stories of Las Vegas Folks. Review-Journal, 8/9/30 p2; Minutes, 5/14/29 to 2/11/37, p469. Las Vegas City Commission Records (MS-00237), UNLV Special Collections & Archives; Vegas Residents Wed in Kingsman. Review-Journal, 2/22/37 p2; Sara Haden Buys Local Auto Court. Review-Journal, 3/16/37 p5; Brigham Townsend. Making the Rounds. Review-Journal, 2/1/47 p1; Cleveland Motel Has New Owner. Review-Journal, 4/17/47 p3; Personals. Review-Journal, 10/24/47 p6; Jane Kowalewski. Clark County Historic Property, Travelers Motel. Nevada State Museum, Las Vegas. Intensive Level Architectural Survey of Motor Court Motels Along Las Vegas Blvd and Fremont Street. North Wind Resource Consulting, Apr. 2020.

This article was originally published 7/31/2018. Updated Jan. 5, 2025.

[teagballs]

- dennis reynolds: nsfw alphabet.

a/n: heyyyy guys..... did u miss me.... it's only been 160 days LMFAOOOO. sorry for my absence, college is wild. not sure what my uploading will be like from here on, i have a ton of requests to sort through but nandor is on my radar !!!! got alot of nandor requests so expect fic soon.

thought id ease in with my fav lil bastard man. ive been meaning to do an nsfw alphabet with dennis for so long that it came really easily for me to write, but this isnt like my usually fics, very relaxed and lazy writing style. love u all as always and thank you for all the concerned messages I AM ALIVE!!!! just busy

cw: dennis shenanigans, some disrespect to woman ofc, smut smut smut cannot stress that enough, fem reader, not proofread, very casual writing style, 1.3k words, lowercase.

smut under the cut!!!

----------------------------♡----------------------------

A = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

very lazy. will flip over, give you a kiss on the head, and then go to sleep.

B = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partners)

on partner: boobs. there's so much evidence to support this. he's so a titty man. he's constantly trying to get his hands on them when fucking which is why he favours positions like cowgirl or missionary.

on himself: his dick. he's very gifted and very proud of it, cocky bastard (pun intended)

C = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

dennis is a dick. he hates to get cum on himself but would happily see you ruined in it. he tries to convince you to let him cum on your face when you give him a blowjob. would love to cum inside you. not for the purposes of reproduction, but in a very predatory way of claiming you.

D = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

i think he'd love to watch one of his tapes with you. fucking you while he fucks some other girl in the background is very hot to him. he doubts you would be into it however. he knows its unappealing for you to imagine him with someone else.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

say it with me: WWWWWWHOOOOOOOORRREEEE.

dennis is not shy about the fact he has had many, many sexual intercounters. he prides himself on how many women he's been with and uses that knowledge to get you and him off.

F = favorite position (this goes without saying)

like i said before, i think he'd been into missionary or cowgirl so he can grab your tits. although i think he'd opt more often for missionary and its plain and easy.

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

dennis would definitely try to be super serious and sexy to a humorous extent. he would try to be all suave, but it would come off as just plain stupid. he'd try to incorporate music and a little dance into his foreplay and you would giggle, and he would get super offended. like "no take this seriously!" as two of hearts by stacey q plays.

H = hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

very well maintained. dennis definitely prides himself on his dick and spends effort making it look the best it can.

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.)

if this is a one night stand, he will try to fake some kind of deep romance into it, but truly it is not there. it is a one and done situation.

however, if this is an established relationship, i think he'd lose himself in the moment. he'd be more sappy than he realises, caressing your skin as he thursts or letting out a few "i love you"s that he would never admit to later as he cums.

J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

i think dennis would believe masterbating is just something teenagers do and if he's horny he will just fuck. but occasionally if you are away from home and he's lonely he'll have to rub one out to that tape of you he has.

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

bondage. obviously. love love loves the idea of you being restained and fully at his mercy. however, he doesn't just introduce this kink to anyone. you would have to be together long term before he brings out his "bondage shit." that's because it comes with him hiding the more insane parts of himself.

L = location (favorite places to do the do)

pretty vanilla and will usually want to do it in his bedroom. he feels most comfortable there, and mac knows not to come in. also, maybe because of the cameras he has in there. maybe.

M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

dennis is a simple man. short skirts and low-cut tops usually do the trick.

less traditionally, you telling him off can also get him going. either he's filled with the need to 'discipline' you or he wants you to take your anger out on him and ride him till the sun comes up, baby!!

N = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

there's nothing he wouldn't do to you. truly. anything is on the table. for himself, however, i don't think he'd like to get hurt. he's a big ole baby, and it would bruise his ego :(

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

definitely prefers receiving because he is a selfish bastard man. he's rough with it, too, grabbing your head and using you like his personal fleshlight.

and of course, he's shit at giving. you'll have to teach him how to properly eat pussy.

P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

starts off painfully slow and ends hard and rough. he makes an ordeal out of foreplay. he will tease and test you before finally entering you, and even then he's going slow. when he actually starts fucking you though he's unapologetically fast. he's chasing his own high and you'll probably cum along the way.

Q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he prefers to take his time during sex so i doubt hed be down for full penatration quickies. however quick blowjobs? he loves. especially if there's a chance you could get caught, like taking you to the office and having you suck his dick under the desk before going back out to serve again.

R = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

definitely prefers to fuck properly at home, however, like said in 'Q' up to take some risks.

S = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

one and done, im going to be so real. he will come then turn over and go to sleep.

T = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

so many. so. vibrators, ball gags, rope. you name it, he probably has it. but only for his partner. he doesn't like the idea that he would need a toy to get himself off.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

like mentioned in 'P', he likes to drag sex out, making a performance. he likes to degrade you by making you wait, dennis is solely focused on his own pleasure usually.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

dennis likes to pretend he isn't a whiny bitch. he lets out swallowed groans and grunts as he grinds against you, but pathetic little whines and occasionally even whimpers will slip out. this will only happen in a relationship and usually when your being aggressive towards him, like pulling his hair and clawing his back with ever growing need.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

i think with enough persuasion, you could peg dennis reynolds. if you somehow frame it in a way that caters to his hypermasculine view, he'll be begging for it.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

dude, he's huge. as seen in "mac and charlie die" (ifykyk). it almost makes up for his huge ego, almost. i imagine he's around 9 inches hard.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

dennis acts as though he is constantly seducing women and bringing them back to his place, this is not true. when not in a relationship, he usually only brings like 1 or 2 girls home a month. there's so much rigmarole to using his stupid D.E.N.N.I.S system that it's usually not worth the effort.

when he's in a relationship however, this drive rises. when you are around all the time suddenly he's always eager to fuck. most nights, infact.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep)

like mentioned in 'A', he falls asleep pretty quickly. he'll give you a lazy kiss and drape his arm across you as a sort of 'thank you'. an appreciation.

----------------------------♡----------------------------

[rucbarthatbowtiesarecooldw]

Saturday Morning Session

Come Ye That Love the Lord

Conducting: Dallin H Oaks

The Morning Breaks

Sustaining vote – in the morning session? Normally afternoon

Church audit report – in the morning session? Normally afternoon

Did You Think to Pray

Jeffrey R. Holland

Awwwww the most fortunate of men!

More concentration, focus on the Savior, hope on His word, etc.

“Thanks are the highest form of thought. Gratitude is Happiness doubled by Wonder.” – Chesterton?

God hears every prayer we offer.

- Prayers are often answered differently than we expect

Our prayers are our sweetest hour, our most sincere desire, our most purest form of worship

Hesitation to pray doesn’t come from God.

Prayers should be spoken out loud. -It is a conversation with God

Listen to the spirit to know how to pray

If you don’t know what to pray for, just pray anyway!

Even the Savior had to pray to be closer to His Father – even He could pray “more earnestly.”

J Anette Dennis

You can look for a deeper meaning in all the things you read – how does this bring you closer to the Savior?

Jesus Christ is the center of ALL covenants we make.

Covenant relationships bless us, but it is out choice as to how,

Everything done in the Temple points to Gods plan for us. -Prayerfully seek the further meanings

Our symbolic outer clothing is only worn in the temple. Other than the garments, although those show that Jesus covers us.

Armor of Light – which is Christ

Choose to have a relationship with God by making and keeping covenants with Him

Alexander Dushku

Restoration began with a boys desperate prayer and a pillar of light

Rather than a pillar of light, the Lord sends us a ray of light – and then another, and then another

How do you experience the rays of light from the Lord? -Peace, impressions, desires, testimonies, hopefulness, prayer, feeling the love of God as you serve others

If we’re believing and repenting, we ARE living in revelation, even if we don’t recognize it or think we are experiencing it.

You cannot always expect big miracles and pillars of light – the Light comes line upon line, precept upon precept, here a ray and there a ray

Experiencing depression and anxiety make it difficult (sometimes impossible) to recognize the Spirit - Sometimes we don’t even know we are feeling the Spirit at all until after the fact!

Perhaps one ray is not enough for a Testimony, but together they can become a Light that will scare away the darkness.

D&C 93:36 “The glory of God is intelligence, or, in other words, light and truth.”

D&C 50:24 “That which is of God is light; and he that receiveth light, and continueth in God, receiveth more light; and that light groweth brighter and brighter until the perfect day.”

Press Forward Saints

Ulisses Soares

Covenant confidence through Christ

When we enter the Lords house, we embark on a sacred journey to become like Christ

What happens IN the temples is important

Remain Confident in Christ

Confidence in the covenants made with Jesus Christ is something you should pass on to your children

“My disciples shall stand in holy places and not be moved.”

Go to the temple with confidence and humility - Make preparations to go – not just for those going for the first time. We should be perpetually preparing - Will help with anxiety about worthiness

Home centered, Church supported, Temple Bound - Being Temple bound connects us to the Savior

Cast not away your confidence, instead let your confidence wax strong.

Jack N Gerard

Jesus Christ is our exemplar. - Integrity means being true to God, to each other, and to our identity.

Do what is right, let the consequence follow.

Exercise integrity in your choices

Would others see God through my conduct?

A life of integrity is not a life of perfection - Due to the fact that during this life you literally cannot be perfect - Perfection exists but not in me

Christian kindness is not a substitute for integrity - Meaning don’t be fake in your kindness? - Don’t be hypocrites?

I Know that My Savior Loves Me

Henry B Eyring

Story about going to the temple and finding out after the sealing that people have lost houses (teton dam break) and they left their kids at home and had to spend the night in a hotel and couldn’t make it home

“How can you sleep at a time like this?” - Whatever the outcome, all will be well because of the temple. We have made covenants - Apostles at gethsemane

John 14:27 “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”

God will not abandon His relationship to all those who have covenanted with Him - He will never tire in His efforts to help us, and we will never exhaust His willingness to support us

Light and hope can come from keeping covenants, and they are opportunities to draw closer to God

We Thank Thee O God for a Prophet

[compneuropapers]

Interesting Reviews for Week 42, 2024

Representational structures as a unifying framework for attention. Chapman, A. F., & Störmer, V. S. (2024). Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 28(5), 416–427.

Examining the neural basis of unitization: A review. Dennis, N. A., Carpenter, C. M., & Becker, A. (2024). Cognitive, Affective, & Behavioral Neuroscience, 24(3), 389–401.

Simplifying social learning. Hackel, L. M., Kalkstein, D. A., & Mende-Siedlecki, P. (2024). Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 28(5), 428–440.

An integrative, multiscale view on neural theories of consciousness. Storm, J. F., Klink, P. C., Aru, J., Senn, W., Goebel, R., Pigorini, A., … Pennartz, C. M. A. (2024). Neuron, 112(10), 1531–1552.

[adarkrainbow]

Dubois' bibliography: Fairy books (1)

I talked a LOT before of Pierre Dubois, his famous "Fairy/Elf/Lutin Encyclopedias", his collections of fairytales, and so forth and so on. And yes we have to agree that he has a very free, inventive, poetic style when it comes to retelling the various myths and legends surrounding the fair folk and other supernatural beings. As such, while his books are very entertaining and very beautiful, they are not to be used as a serious research material and can be quite misleading between Dubois' personal inventions, crafted genealogies and fictional history of "Elfland"...

BUT the wonderful and very pleasant thing with Dubois is that at the end of each of his Encylopedias he leaves us with a complete bibliography of all the books he used when writing them. I have rarely stumbled upon such complete bibliographies about the "fair folk", "good neighbor", petit peuple" and so forth, and while it goes a bit beyond what this blog is about (fairy tales proper), I still thought of sharing some of it here because my Dubois posts were all here.

Now, I can't share the entirety of the bibliography because it would be too big. However what I will share is all the books Dubois placed in his bibliography... in English. Indeed, Dubois reads the English and as such a good chunk of his bibliography is English-speaking (there are also some Spanish, Italian and German books in his lists). As such, if you are an English speaker you can easily go check these texts. (Note, this comes from his bibliography of his "Encyclopedia of Fairies", so that we stay within the "fairy tale" theme of this blog)

Tolkien's On Fairy-Stories

Beatrice Phillports, Mermaids

Richard Carrington, Mermaids and Mastodons

Gwen Benwell and Arthur Waugh, Sea Enchantress

The Lost Gods of England, Brian Branston

Wilfrid Bonser, A bibliography of folklore

Masaharu Anesaki, Japanese Mythology (also known as the History of Japanese Religion)

F. J. Child, The English and Scottish Popular Ballads

Moncure Daniel Conway, Demonology and Devil Lore

T. C. Croker, Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland

N. Belfield Dennys, The Folklore of China [The book has the very unfortunate subtitles "and its affinities with that the Aryan and Semitic races", but it was written in the 19th century so...)

David Crockett Graham, Songs and Stories of the Ch'uan Miao

Thomas Keightley, The Fairy Mythology

P. Kennedy, Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts

John Rhys, Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx

Sir George Webb Dasent's translation of Popular Tales from the Norse

The Norse Myths (as rewriten by Crossley)

Delaporte Press' Great Swedish Fairy Tales, illustrated by John Bauer

Inger and Edgar Parn d'Aulaire, D'Aulaire's Trolls (also known as D'Aulaire's Book of Trolls)

The Florence Ekstrand edition of Theodore Kittelsen's Norvegian Trolls and Other Tales

G. Fox, The Archaeology of the Cambridge Region

Edward L. Gardner, Fairies

M. Geoffrey Hodson, The Kingdom of the Gods

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Coming of the Fairies

Walter Burkert, Ancient Mystery Cults

Sabine Baring-Gould, Curious Myths of the Middle Age

[dickfuckk]

A list of season 2 cast and crew members, confirmed and speculated

I will try and keep this updated

Not counting the obvious ones

Please note that this is a list of both cast and crew members, so PAs and such are also included and not just actors

Also if you're interested: on my bts instagram I only follow people who have worked on season 1, and people I suspect worked on season 2. So feel free to go through the list of people I follow if you're into that

A

Aaron Morton (Camera) - he’s listed on the very last picture as the camera-man

Adam Stein(Writer)

Alan F. (English solider)

Alexandria S.

Alison Telford (Casting)

Alistair Gregory - from this tweet so uncertain, but followed me back on my bts instagram account so seems to have some interest in ofmd

Amy Barber (Sound department)

Amy Tunnicliffe

Amanda Grace Leo

Amanda M. (Wedding guest)

Andrea Basile (Costume)

Andres Gomez Zamora (Visual effects)

Andrew DeYoung (Director) - I don’t remember if there was any other reason than the fact that he was in Aotearoa during filming

Andy McLaren (senior art director)

Andy Rydzewksi (Cinematographer)

Angelina Faulkner (Sound department)

B

Blair Nicholson (Camera)

Blair Teesdale (Camera)

Brad Coleman (Visual effects)

Brad McLeod (Special effects)

Brian Badie (Hairstylist)

Bronson Pinchot (“Torturer”)

Bryn Seager - I don’t remember why but I follow him

Bryony Matthew (Food stylist)

C

Caleb Staines (Camera)

Chantel Partamian (Visual effects)

Colin Elms (Art department)

Colin Rogers (Sound department)

Cora Montalban (Makeup and/or hairstylist) - I believe she was tagged in an instagram story once, and she’s followed by a ton of cast and crew members

Corrin Ellingford (Sound department)

Corey Moana (Camera)

Corry Greig (Art department)

Coti Herrera (Prosthetics/Makeup)

D

Damian Del Borrello (Sound department)

Daniel Fernandez (Spanish priest)

Danica Duan (Assistan accountant)

David Boden (production manager)

David G. (Stand in)

David Rowell (Financial controller)

David Van Dyke (Visual effects)

Dennis Bailey (Hairstylist)- Leslie revealed that he’s there.

Dion Anderson (Rescue diver)

Don A. (Swampy Town folk)

Donna Pearman (Assistant accountant)

Donna Marinkovich (set decorator)

Doug McFarlene (Pirate)

Duncan Nairn (Visual effects)

E

Eliza Cossio (Writer)

Erroll Shand (Prince Ricky)

Esther Mitchell (Camera)

F

Fernando Frias (Director)

G

Gareth Van Niekerk (Sound department)

Gary Archer (dental prosthetics)

Gemma Campbell (Visual effects)

Grant Lobban

Greg Sager (Safety manager)

Gregor Harris (Camera)

Gregory J. Pawlik Jr. (AD)

Gypsy Taylor (Costume designer)

H

Haroun Barazanchi (Set designer)

Harry Ashby (AD)

Helene Wong (Voice work)

I-J

Jacob Tomuri (Stunts)

Jaden McLeod

James Crosthwaite (Set decorator)

Jamie Couper (Camera)

Jason Samoa, possibly spotted on location

Jemaine Clement, pretty sure this is only based on his friendship with Rhys and Taika tbh

Jes Tom (Writer)

Jessica Lee Hunt (Makeup artist) - followed by a ton of crew and cast members and I believe she’s been tagged in instagram stories and such

John Mahone (Writer)

Jonathan Bruce (Sound department)

Jono Capel-Baker (Groom)

Jonno Roberts didn’t get the role from his audition, but could still have gotten a different role - hung out with Ruibo

Judah Getz (Sound department)

Julia Huberman (Sound department)

Julia Thompson (Costume)

Justin Benn (Republic of Pirates Town)

K

Karl L. (Action extra)

Kate Fu

Kate Leonard (Casting)

Kathleen Zyka Smith (“Red Flag”)

Kosuke Iijima (Fabricator/Sculptor?) - due to interaction on this post

Kris Gillan (Fabricator/Sculptor)

Kura Forrester - followed by quite a few cast and crew members, but I don’t remember if there was anything else to it

L

Laura Stables (SFX makeup artist)

Leanne Evans (Art department)

Lee Tuson

Leslie Jones (Spanish Jackie) - she’s spoiled this so many times, but gjfhdks

Leyla - followed by a lot of cast and crew members, don’t remember if there was more to it than that

Lindsey Cantrell (Set decorator)

Louis Flavell Birch (Blue coat)

Luke V. (Stand in)

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Wednesday, 11-20-24, 8am Pacific

Aaaaand it's another groggy Mr. Baggins befutzing his way through making the coffee on this Wednesday, and our Morning Coffee Music begins with Bach today. We will hear from the classic Karl RIstenpart recording from 1960 of Bach's complete Brandenburgs. In our survey of this set, so far we've heard No.'s 2 and 5. Here is Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 1 in F Major, BWV 1046. Karl Ristenpart leads The Chamber Orchestra of The Saar.

Ah, that one's like the first sip of that first cup! Let's head north to Norway, and hear BOTH of Grieg's Peer Gynt Suites, recorded January 1967, plus two rolicking encores to get things moving: the second of the Norwegian Dances Op. 35, No. 2, and Lyric Suite, Op. 54 - 4. March Of The Trolls, both rec. October 12, 1965. Lenny and the New York handle these quite nicely, from the series of classic Columbia recordings from the mid-'60s. Pour another cup and enjoy.

Now let's travel to Poland, with harpsichordist Wanda Landowska playing Bach's Solo Harpsichord Concerto in D major, BWV 972, on her Harpsichord Pleyel. Recorded in either 1943 or 1946, contrary to what the video maker thought.

Isn't that a marvelous recording? Another one to stamp as "Definitive", the one by which all others are measured, much like the next record! We have heard the first four of Dvorak's Symphonies thus far, here is Dvorak's Symphony No.5 in F major op.76, the London Symphony Orchestra, Istvan Kertesz conducts. From 1967. Truly another superlative interpretation!

Let's hear from Italian pianist Aldo Ciccolini, playing Liszt! A rare treat, we attend an Aldo Ciccolini Liszt Recital, "Harmonies poétiques et religieuses", and Encores (Amsterdam 2011). Made in the twilight of his years, at the age of 85, but his powers were still intact. One of the true legends in the pantheon of mid-20th-century pianists! Ninety minutes of amazing music. Enjoy!

Next let's listen to the first of the two Horn Concerti that Richard Strauss wrote for his father. We hear the legendary Dennis Brain on horn, with Wolfgang Sawallisch conducting the Philharmonia Orchestra. The Concerto No. 1 in E-flat Major, Op. 11, of a young Richard Strauss. A legendary recording, a legendary performer. From 1956.

Next we'll hear Oboe legend Heinz Holliger, with Neville and The Academy, playing Bohuslav Martinů's Oboe Concerto H.353. This is a seldom heard/played piece that definitely deserves more airtime.

Here is Mozart's Oboe Concerto in C Major, K371, played by Douglas Boyd, oboe and the Chamber Orchestra of Europe, conducted by Paavo Berglund. A superb reading of a lovely piece!

And here's our Daily Dose of Glenn Gould playing Bach, this time we hear his complete recording of The French Suites 1-6 BWV 812-817. From a Columbia Masterworks recording made in 1974.

And for our last selection this morning, here is the legendary Leopold Stokowski, conducting his famous transcription of Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2. From an RCA Living Stereo released in 1961.

This is Mr. Baggins signing off for this Wednesday edition of Morning Coffee Music. I do hope you've enjoyed the morning's music. I'll be back at 2pm Pacific with your Afternoon Stack of Classic Wax!

Until then, be kind, babies, be kind.

Baggins out.

[nosnet]

Crash & Burn

by J. D. Dennis

Time Period: New York, 2024

Perspective: Vyxen Rivera

Rating: PG-13

Content Warnings: Detailed description of a motorcycle wreck (but they’re a vampire so its cool), innuendos

Word Count: 16,478

Comments: Donnie was an old PC of C. Todd who’s campaign got kind of canned, but as he’s way too neat to just leave behind, we shoehorned him into the current timeline and now Vyx’s paramour count is…  five. :D

New York was definitely not their idea of a great city to drive in, honestly. 

To be fair to the city, of course, this wasn’t unexpected. New York was not exactly a city built to withstand the amount of vehicles that trundled through it’s tiny streets; it was, in fact, built before the time of cars, and while carts and horses weren’t small things, they didn’t often drive down the streets side by side, let alone five cars strong. It didn’t help that the nightlife didn’t taper off like in most other cities, the roads still jammed tighter than an aging ballerina trying to fit into their old leotard - in a way where no one was quite sure how it was managed and everyone feared the moment something failed - even though it was three or four in the morning. Honestly, if that had been the only issue, Vyx wouldn’t have minded much - avoiding gridlocked traffic was fairly easy, especially considering their vampiric powers meant people got the fuck out of the way, even if they had no idea why - but that wasn’t the problem. No, the problem was the inconsistency, the way some streets would suddenly open up and the traffic would flood out at speed until suddenly, something dropped them back to a standstill. It meant Vyx would take a turn to avoid one backed up pile of nonsense, get going, and then be forced to a different stop on a different street with no other egress. It was frustrating, and they honestly wouldn’t have chosen to drive in it all - but they hadn’t been given that privilege, as it was either land at JFK and face the bullshit traffic, or land at the Piedmont-Triad International airport, right outside of their old stomping grounds, and risk running into a face they hadn’t seen in years. And considering the faces they knew, there was enough precedent for them getting punched in the face as much as anything else. 

The traffic was preferred. Even if it was pouring freezing rain. 

They’d found a street moving at a steady pace, however - still under the speed limit, but how well other people obeyed laws never meant much to them anyway - and that got them away from the airport without much issue, speeding along between the steady cars on their bike. That was, unfortunately, the other reason they had to travel into JFK - they’d left from JFK earlier, and their bike was the one possession they even owned and they weren’t about to leave it to be impounded by some towing company chucklefuck desperate to make a buck. Besides, the bike was what actually made the travel easy; it was small enough to take gaps between cars in ways even a compact car couldn’t take, and that meant that, even in bumper to bumper traffic, they could maneuver their way through to the other side. Their vampiric powers helped, of course - they could make themselves and their bike simply invisible, and people just… got out of the way. They had no idea how it worked, but there was little value in asking questions even older Kindred didn’t really understand. It didn’t change facts, anyway - using the power meant that even the most ornery taxi paused or cut to the side to let them through, and that they could maintain a decent speed, even through a sea of brake lights and angry horns. The icy conditions didn’t bother them, any, and with their ability to ignore the rest of the traffic - which were in fact horrible bothered by the rain, and the ice, and the cold - had a hope blossoming in their chest; something that said they could possibly escape the city and hit the Lincoln Tunnel with time to stop on the other side of the Hudson for a snack before dawn. 

A tire squealed on the slick pavement, and Vyx felt time slowing down. It wasn’t that they actually had the ability to slow time - that wasn’t simply their purview, though they’d fucked a guy back in the day who was legitimately very good at manipulating time, including to make their personal activities last as long as they desired - but that their vampiric perceptions were beyond understanding, and they simply perceived it as though time moved slower. Sure, for many people, there was little practical difference between slowing time and a slower perception of time, but for vampires, there was a true difference, and Vyx simply couldn’t claim the former power as anything they had access to. That did mean, however, that all Vyx could do was watch, initially, as one of the taxis in front of them twisted off to the right, their tire having caught a wet patch that was probably just half-frozen black ice, before slamming hard into the trunk of another car in front of them with a loud thunk. The ripple that followed moved fast though the other cars - like a wave, cars twisted their front ends off to the side, picking left or right arbitrarily, trying not to slam into anyone else, and while some failed, others didn’t, sliding into free spaces or gaps between cars with loud brakes and louder horns. Vyx snapped their handlebars to the right in reaction, hopping their invisible bike up onto the sidewalk to avoid slamming themselves into the taxi directly in front of them, their speed so much faster than the flow of traffic that stopping on an icy street wasn’t really possible. They were lucky they could almost anticipate the ripple effect, as they had much less stopping space going so fast, and running full speed into the back of a car was a bad way to start their latest foray into America.

They hopped the curb - brushing past a very concerned pedestrian who didn’t so much see them as simply ragdoll from an inexplicable wind - prepared to run the crosswalk at speed and rejoin the flow of traffic on the other side of the intersection where the whole thing happened, skipping the multi-car pile up that was occurring and the subsequent traffic jam that would inevitably follow. However, the next instant moved too quickly for their bike to react, as while they perceived time much faster, the materials they worked with weren’t actually faster, and they couldn’t force their bike to keep up with them. A taxi at the edge of the intersection, to avoid more collisions, also hopped the curb at the exact same instant, almost as though they were planning on cutting the corner off the sidewalk in their attempt to make a hard right turn. Vyx couldn’t react fast enough, only half a car length from the offending vehicle when it suddenly appeared in their path and moving twice the rated speed for the road in the first place; there was simply no time left between the breaths for them to do anything but brace themselves. 

The bike slammed hard into the hood of the taxi. The speed had it almost made airborne, bouncing off the yellow metal, before flipping over itself like Vyx had just tried a Dave Mirra trick and failed spectacularly at it. Vyx couldn’t do anything but curl up on themselves as they were immediately unseated, thrown forward as though from a slingshot, and they felt the ground come back at them hard. They hit the ground on the other side of the taxi and bounced, all but skipping through the crosswalk and over the curb like a rock on a still lake, rolling and flailing all the way, before coming to a halt several hundred feet down the street, slamming gut first into a battered trash can. The trash can rocked, but remained standing, if heavily dented by the impact, having been bolted into the sidewalk by the cops in order to keep the homeless people from stealing it. There was no shortage of irony at the idea that, once again, Vyx had been fucked over by anti-homeless architecture, but they were simply in far too much pain to appreciate it. The bike skidded to a stop further down the street, a mangled mess of twisted metal and a ticking, cooling engine, one tire still spinning. 

Vyx groaned. They were obscenely lucky, all things considered, and they knew it; for one, the rest of the crash in the intersection meant that, while there were a couple sad souls out in the bullshit weather that night, very few actually paid mind to the invisible biker that had suddenly appeared in mid air and all but flown themselves across the street. It meant that there was no crowd around Vyx’s fallen form, nor their bike, nor anyone pointing, gawking, or crying over what looked, for all intents and purposes, like a dead girl curled against a trash can. This was good, as Vyx didn’t need an audience. For two, their vampiric abilities meant that, while they were in a world of pain, they weren’t dead. They could feel that just about every organ in their stomach had all but split, and their guts were a bag of loose blood contained by a layer of cold, dead skin and nothing else, and that would have been death for anyone who actually used the damn things. They were lucky that most of their internal organs were accessories at best, and only really necessary for the constant commitment to the bit that was eating. Not to mention, their blood was leaking onto the sidewalk from the rest of their body, slow and languid though it was, and it wasn’t going to stop on its own, which would have been a death sentence for anyone else; they had a leather jacket on, sure, and the thing had definitely taken a beating in the crash, torn over the sleeves and back, but they hadn’t elected to wear anything on their legs, and what was left of them were mostly blood and patches of black where the tar had come with them. Anyone else would have been looking at a severely changed life - Vyx was mostly looking at a week of annoyances and a whole lot of blood. 

Ultimately, though, they knew one thing for certain: they had to leave. Right then. No questions. This was because, unfortunately, it wouldn’t be long before someone noticed the small, feminine form curled bodily around a trash can that looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to the sides, and grew concerned with their condition. Their lack of audience was temporary, and only as long as they maintained a level of subtlety and stealth, which would quickly vanish now that they weren’t entirely invisible. And any civilian involvement was a problem, because that would mean EMTs, and that meant heart rate monitors, and Vyx still wasn’t sure how to go about dealing with failing a test that no real, living being could fail. But it meant thinking about anything that wasn’t just pain, which was the hard part. There were parts of their body they weren’t even aware could feel that hurt, and that wasn’t counting the amount of pain coming from the bits they were aware of. But they didn’t have a choice - so they took a deep breath and rolled onto their back, away from the can, and let their broken form settle into something a little less tense. 

The first step was to staunch the bleeding, and that, at least, could be done by force of will. The vampiric body was well adapted to getting involved in painful things, and better adapted to walking away from them, so self-healing wasn’t entirely off the table. All it took was a little mental wish - fix that, please - and their body would oblige, the blood working to knit closed the gashes and scrapes like mortal medicine on overdrive. With enough time, Vyx could have healed everything wrong with them and then some, but it would have taken both time they didn’t have and a store of blood they didn’t have, either. Everything needed blood - that was the price of being immortal, needing to feed oneself constantly and with vigor - and Vyx, unfortunately, found that most of theirs had vacated into the hollow of their belly and wasn’t usable anymore, which meant that patching the worst of the bleeding was all they could do. But that, at least, meant they could stand without their being spilling out of their insides like a fucked up waterfall, and they pushed themselves to their feet, wobbling a little as they did so. 

It was funny, looking at a trash can with a Vyx shaped dent, and they even managed a weak chuckle, clutching their belly like if they didn’t hold it the blood would slosh out of them and onto the street; that was, of course, until they saw the mess that had been their bike in a crumple a couple yards away. They sighed, taking one step and then another, testing the strength of their shins to be sure they didn’t need to patch a broken bone just to walk. Luckily, while they could tell there was, in fact, some kind of fracture down there, it wasn’t so bad they couldn’t put weight on it for the moment. Sure, it hurt, but everything hurt, so adding a drop to the proverbial bucket wasn’t really going to hurt. It did mean, however, that their shuffle to their bike was slow, half limping and pained, but they managed. It wasn’t like they hadn’t been in pain before - the man they’d been, the man who’s memories they had all but stolen, was the right kind of schmuck to get himself hurt fairly badly and still feel bad about inflicting that on other people in the process. And his pain was still Vyx’s memory, new ship or not. 

The only real question that they had to answer, however, was where they could go. New York was a Kindred town - not every town was, but most major cities were, at least - and Vyx was at least passingly familiar with the royalty in charge; the hands that had brought them back from the dead, albeit unintentionally, belonged to the woman who all but ran the town and they knew that gave them a leg up against otherwise unfamiliar surroundings. Connections were as important as the blood, to Kindred; it wasn’t like much else survived millenia, after all. And they knew that, no matter what else, they had to find somewhere that catered to Kindred sensibilities in order to get actual assistance - they needed blood, and not through a transfusion. Anything that required a blood pressure cuff was out of the question. But they could already hear the sirens - they didn’t have time to go searching.

Luckily, Vyx had been Vince at one point in time - whether or not they still were Vince was kind of up in the air, and honestly, they were still determining how much of themselves was even Vince - and they had his memories, albeit partially fabricated from the hands of some of his friends, and Vince had, unfortunately for him but fortunately for Vyx, been homeless. The homeless populations, as Vince had learned, used codes and signs to designate certain places as being helpful, or hurtful, or full of cops - and when he’d been sired, he’d learned quickly that Kindred had adopted the practice for their own means. It wasn’t like there was a better way for a new Kindred to roll into a town and find the closest Elysium without exposing Kine to the secrets they were required to keep - and it meant that, when Vyx saw an Ankh symbol down an alley, tucked neatly behind a trash can and next to a filled in droplet, they had found somewhere that could at least offer them something. And, even better, something quickly. 

The shop that made up one half of the alley was a gym, which was kind of a new one for Vyx, but they weren’t really there to ask questions. It had Swinging Bimbos splashed across the front entrance, and it looked like the building had been built sometime in the early twenties and simply never updated. A lot of buildings in the city felt old, sure, but there was something intentionally Art Deco about the whole design. It had no front windows - if the code hadn’t been stamped on the side, the lack of front windows in a gym was a dead giveaway, honestly - and it looked relatively well cared for, save for the distressed smattering of posters that people had slapped on the blank canvas out front. Some had been torn down, though many remained, and curiously, the bulk of the ones that had been removed were all advertisements for baseball, if Vyx had read the remains right. Something about the stadium having events, they couldn’t really tell - and then it hit them. The head bitch in charge, Molly, had a bodyguard, and that bodyguard was not a man who enjoyed certain baseball teams. Unfortunately, the team in question was also the one they had named the stadium after, and the fact that there were no posters about the Yankees told Vyx more than enough about who’s gym they’d found. 

But they hadn’t died and been brought back to be a fucking coward, after all. 

Instead, and with no hesitation, they grabbed their mangled bike by one of the handles, which still stuck from the mass of metal like a convenient leash, dragging it to the side door by the code symbols and giving the door a good hammering, an urgency to their knocking that belayed their otherwise confident stance. While they probably could have used the front door, the quicker they got out of the street, the better it would be, as they didn’t want anyone noticing their fucked up body or worse off bike and assuming they needed assistance. The door swung open - and it didn’t squeak or flake any rust, which told Vyx it was new and probably due to the last one being decimated from someone’s rage - to reveal… a football player? Or, at least, that’s what Vyx saw - a young man in a full jersey, navy top with orange lettering and orange pants, with a crown of thorns wrapped around his head, and a hole in his chest where his heart should have been. Immediately, of course, they noted two things: one, this poor man had not had a great life, if the missing parts or the pointy symbolism meant anything - it always did - but two, they still had a great view of his face and beyond the perpetually tired expression, the man was handsome. And Vyx hadn’t had anyone to curl up next to since they’d left Paris. 

“You happen to know a guy who can un-crumple a bike?” They asked, before any variant of how can I help you could leave the man’s lips. “Preferably quickly?” They added, a quick glance over the shoulder enough to tell them the cops had started arriving at the scene. They really didn’t have time to wait for pleasantries, considering they were a bloody mess holding a pile of metal that had, at one point, probably been a motor-bike. And they really did look a mess, after all. Beyond the fact that they hadn’t worn any kind of pants, so their legs were two bloody sticks full of gravel and tar, and beyond the fact that their black jacket had gone through so much that it almost looked gray and definitely had holes rubbed in them from the slide, they had no way to tell how well they’d faired, considering they couldn’t see themselves from the outside, and the answer was not great. Their helmet, clutched in the same hand that held the bike, was missing a cat ear - better than them missing part of their face, honestly, but annoying all the same - and while their face hadn’t been dragged across the sidewalk like sandpaper, they had slammed into their helmet hard enough to give them a bloody lip and a bleeding nose. It meant their pert lips were blood red, and their hair - pink, braided for protection, and under a beanie - had gotten stained red in the process. And that was the visible damage -  they could tell their stomach was going to be a very interesting shade of purple as soon as they were undressed. Being short, skinny as a rail, and sporting mostly feminine features, it meant they looked like a hot mess and they knew it. But pity never dried as fast as the blood did. 

“Are you sure the bike is the problem here?” The man asked, taking in the situation and finding that answers did not seem to come willingly, if at all, from the visuals alone. He’d heard the crash, of course - it was hard not to hear squealing rubber and crunching steel - but he’d assumed it was like any other crash and not any problem of his. There was never much worth doing that wouldn’t already be done by the Kine involved. And sure, they were right, the bike was, in fact, a massive issue - it had crumpled in on itself, twisting sideways and tangling its parts with other parts that shouldn’t have ever touched, and the man could tell from just looking at it that even with his vampiric strength - Vyx hadn’t been wrong, the gym was in fact a Kindred gym - he would need a decent socket wrench and several hours just to make the bike look like a bike again. He’d probably need a couple beers to make it work. But the body in front of him was bloody, and messy, and smelled so strongly of death he couldn’t reasonably assume they weren’t Kindred, and it was both kind of foul and also kind of attractive. He worked in a gym - he was no stranger to black eyes or broken noses, and those things weren’t turn offs, either. Neither fact helped him parse how a vampire got to his side door looking like that without the descent of the police, however, but he had the capacity to think multiple things at once.  

“The bike is the only problem I can’t fix on my own, probably.” Vyx shrugged, but it was a roll of their shoulders that only used one arm, the other weighed down by the bike in their hand. “If you could spare a shower, that would also help. As long as I get out of the sleet like, anyway.” They shrugged again, sticking out their free hand and feeling their belly slosh awkwardly at the movement, the discomfort registering on their face. “Vyx. Just came in through JFK and I forgot how much of a bitch traffic is. You have a name there, Q-B?” 

“...QB?” The man parroted, full of confusion but also not saying no, stepping aside instead and letting Vyx drag the bike to the door. “I usually go by Donnie.” He added, watching Vyx stand at the door with the bike for a long second, doing math that just wasn’t working. Unfortunately, the bike wouldn’t go through the door without some tending, but it was, at least, tucked against the wall in a way where it wouldn’t be mistaken for trash. It wouldn’t get seen, and they could handle that part of the problem later, so he didn’t address it further. Vyx didn’t think on it too long, either, assured that the bike was officially someone else’s problem, stepping into the gym and finding it empty - that wasn’t a surprise, it was one in the morning on a Tuesday with sleet outside - and also warm. They didn’t register cold, but the change in temperature was definitely a sensation, and they shivered as they did. 

“Y’know, QB? Quarterback?” Vyx turned, giving the man a single up and down scan with their eyes. “Unless you weren’t somebody’s star quarterback and I’m misinterpreting this read like nobody’s business.” They shrugged - it was a fairly common gesture for them, honestly - finally giving themselves a second to exist and self assess. Face? Bad. Not the worst pain ever, but they could feel the slick blood against their upper lip and the pressure in their nose all the same. Legs? That was going to take some doing. They couldn’t just heal the abrasions without giving the whole thing an aggressive clean, unfortunately, unless they wanted to cart around half a block of gravel in their shins. Not to mention, they could feel their right calf try to rip itself apart with pain in every step. They quickly decided to stop leaning on it - the shock of impact had started to wear off, replaced by the screaming ache of the aftermath, and they were discovering quickly that some wounds were actually much worse now that they were actually registering properly. 

“Oh.” The realization rolled over Donnie in a wave, and it was an expression Vyx had gotten used to over their existence. Considering it was only four years - for all they were Vince, they weren’t him, and that meant they were really only four years old, and everything was new and weird still - the fact that it happened often told Vyx more than anyone had actually spared willingly about their clan. Molly had tried, when they’d woken up, but their intricacies were not easy to put into words, and she was still probably the most telling. Everyone else, their own clan included, was simply too cagey or cryptic. Vyx wasn’t good at interpreting other Malkavains, yet - that was a whole skill in and unto itself. “Malkavian, right.” Donnie shrugged - he had nothing against the clan, though they were in fact a bunch of weirdos and made very little sense - quickly locking the door behind them. He still wasn’t sure what the hell happened, but he was used to Malkavians in the city pissing off the cops. “So, did you…?” He didn’t finish the sentence, gesturing to the street side wall, where windows would have been, to indicate whatever the hell happened out there instead. It wasn’t like he could honestly put words to what happened, as he hadn’t seen it happen nor had he checked after the fact, either. 

“Cause that? Nah, not me. Taxi beefed it on the ice right in the middle. I wasn’t even on the road.” Vyx said, hobbling over to a bench and sliding to sit down on it. They pressed their hands against the leather, lowering themselves slowly, finding their arms were, surprisingly, okay, if probably purple with bruises. It helped that they'd untucked their arms before they ran into the trash can. “No, some jackass cut the curb going right instead of stopping and winged me. Not really his fault, considering I was super not visible, but unfortunately, even I am not immune to physics and stopping very suddenly from straight up sixty miles per hour doesn’t end great for anyone.” They sighed, leaning their head back against the wall. Somehow, even dead, that still felt good. “Needed a quick exit, so thanks. Even if this is all I get, the Masquerade thanks for you not having me end up in the back of an ambulance. I would have had to punch someone in the dick and that also historically goes poorly.” 

“You’ll still want medical attention.” Donnie said, and there was concern to his voice, which would have been more amusing had Vyx not been in so much pain. “Blood will work in the long term, but you’ll want something to hold you together until it can.” He stepped forward, holding out a hand in a silent offer, and Vyx took it, pulling themselves to their feet again. There was a print where they’d sat, their thighs immortalized in shining red, and they found they had the blood left to look flushed in proper - flirty - embarrassment. 

“You kicking me out, here, QB? I know I’m a mess, but I can make it worth your while.” Vyx tried to purr the words out, but the lack of blood, the beginning stages of dizziness, and standing suddenly had them wavering, almost falling back to the floor. Donnie’s grip on their hand was the only thing that kept them upright long enough for them to find their footing. “Ha, maybe I should sit back down.” They chuckled, batting their eyes all the same. Donnie was a hard read - it didn’t help his eyes were two glowing pinpricks of light instead of actual eyes, and pinpricks always under represented expressions - but he smiled, and that alone had Vyx feeling better about the situation. 

“No, I’m not kicking you out - but all our medical supplies are in the back.” Donnie gestured to a set of doors that led from the exercise hall, as it were, to the back rooms and offices required to make a gym go with a sly smile on his face. “Your bike is probably going to be our evening, and I don’t want you torporing in my gym while I work. Don’t worry about owing me anything, though - it’s not like I’m doing anything else. C’mon, let’s just get you patched up and then we’ll see what I can do with that bike.” He pulled their hand, surprisingly gentle for someone that could have probably picked up Vyx with one hand. They could tell he had muscle under his uniform, not just vampiric muscle but the real stuff, too, and they stumbled after him, reaching out with one arm to balance on his shoulders before they fell. He let them settle against his shoulder, instinctively wrapping his arm around the small of their back to keep them upright. If the strange sensation of Vyx’s stomach registered, squishy with blood, he didn’t show it on his face, but he did look away from theirs and to the door with a purpose all the same, like he’d just understood, intrinsically, how much he had to do. 

“I hope the bike isn’t our whole evening. Even if it’s not just ‘cause repayment.” Vyx’s tone was flirty, if also a little pouty, and they watched the words flicker across Donnie’s face; a smile followed them, quickly stamped out for something more serious. Clearly, this wasn’t a one sided desire, but there were more important things to do, like patch Vyx up. It was, however, something they could work with. “If it helps, I don’t really have anywhere to be.” They tried to shrug and failed, as they weren’t nearly as tall as Donnie, and having their shoulders at such an angle meant shrugging simply didn’t work. “I’m, uh. Not on anyone’s schedule but mine, I guess.” They paused, a sudden surge of sadness taking them. It was hard, being alone. They didn’t like the way their brain clutched at the insides of the skull when they were alone. But it was harder, still, to not be alone when they had no home to go to. 

Donnie pushed through a swinging door, leading them back to what looked like a nurse’s office. It wasn’t particularly big, but it was large enough to hold a plain cot, a desk, and a computer that looked a lot newer than anything else in the building. There was also a large cabinet chock full of medical supplies, and Donnie quickly turned to it once he was sure Vyx was stable. They let him dig through the cabinet, instead working on the other part of the equation of fixing them - getting to the wounds. Their jacket unzipped without trouble, but they found that twisting to take it off hurt, their shoulders sore from the impact, and they hissed as they pulled it off one arm. “You alright?” Donnie asked, turning back, finding Vyx holding their jacket in one hand and their stomach in the other, their shirt - printed with I am 104% Tired - red with their blood. They weren’t actively bleeding anymore, but they clearly had been, and the scrapes were still red under their shirt, not to mention the patches of purple where the bruising had taken over. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just. Ah.” They made a noise that said pain, letting their jacket drop to the floor before starting on their shirt. “Eck, I liked this one.” They mumbled, peeling the bottom of their shirt off their stomach. Underneath, their skin was brown, but ashy from a lack of conscious effort, and even under the jacket, their stomach was scraped and scratched and splotched with purple and red. They carefully pulled one arm from the t-shirt, and while they did their best not to make a face at it, it clearly hurt like shit to do. They paused, the shirt over one arm and their neck, letting out a low whine that said they needed a second due to the pain, and Donnie sighed, setting the bandages down on the cot and stepping over to them. He was gentle, nimble fingers pulling the shirt away from Vyx’s head, letting them duck out of the bloody fabric and then sliding it off their arm. It left them standing close, Vyx half naked - they weren’t ever the bra kind of person - and only inches from Donnie, their head angled up in such a way where he could just lean down, because they were right there, almost close enough that he could feel the peach fuzz on their jaw. 

Vyx watched him consider it, and they could tell, even behind those little pinpricks, that if they’d stayed right there just long enough, he would have probably figured out what Vyx was asking for. And at minimum, he wouldn’t have been upset had they closed the gap themselves. But they were nothing if not a tease, and they smiled, pulling back and moving to sit on the cot instead, as the other reason was the excessive dizziness that had overwhelmed them in the moment. 

“You’ll need to take your skirt off.” Donnie said, still smiling, turning back to the cabinet and grabbing the last of his supplies. Vampires didn’t need most medical supplies, so there wasn’t much to grab. There was no need for ointments or creams, as Kindred only found help in blood based remedies. But bandages or splints were never amiss, and he had plenty - as an employee of a gym, he was more than used to patching people up from nearly dismembered. Especially considering his grandsire made a sport of taking people apart. “For medical reasons, of course, but if I’m reading the room correctly, I don’t think you’d mind if it wasn’t.” Donnie paused, bandages in his arms, peering over his shoulder for just a moment, and the grin on Vyx’s face said he wasn’t wrong. 

“Usually I get paid for stuff like this.” Vyx chuckled, shimmying out of their skirt and ignoring the pain as they did. Luckily, it wasn’t a long skirt, and they quickly shucked it to the floor, sitting in their underwear - they didn’t go commando on a bike, they weren’t completely out of their mind - and boots on the cot. Skirtless, the extent of the burns up their legs was more apparent, and Donnie quickly turned back to the cabinet to grab another roll of bandages, just in case. “I mean, not that it’s the job, just that sometimes you gotta make a quick buck here and there, y’know.” Vyx shrugged, not necessarily embarrassed, but still wanting to make sure Donnie had the right idea; it was almost as though they realized they’d implied they were trying to solicit cash from him and not actually interested and needed to clarify. 

“I get it.” Donnie shrugged. It wasn’t really his bag, but he understood; even if they themselves only ever needed blood, the world still ran on money, and many things - clothes, houses, cars, gas, ghouls - needed to be paid for. And anything that brought in a buck was worth it, especially considering Kindred had much less risk at most jobs. He didn’t add anything else, kneeling down in front of Vyx and starting on one of their boots. He could tell they couldn’t bend over, not well, not like they were, and while they seemed startled, there was something to their face that said they hadn’t been treated that kindly very often. Pulling their boot off, and their sock, he could see the extent of the burns, and gingerly, he started cleaning them. He used an antiseptic spray, first, but only because it was wet and slick and loosened the gravel, before following it with a soft rag, pulling the debris from the wound. It hurt like fuck - Vyx gripped the edge of the cot so hard they swore they heard the metal crack - but they kept their leg still, letting Donnie work his way up to their knee and then past it. 

“You know, if this didn’t hurt so fucking much, this would almost be romantic.” Vyx bit out, the words cut by the pain racing up their leg from the burns. Donnie chuckled, and it was clear the chuckle was an attempt at staving off awkwardness - he was clearly kind of into the idea, but unwilling to act on it immediately, and had been using his silence to stake the thought so he could get on with his job. By addressing it, Vyx had freed his tormentor, and they chuckled. “Sorry. If it helps, I’m definitely into it. Not the pain part, though I could be. Never really tried it.” 

“We’re treating your wounds first, and then we’re getting you a drink.” Donnie insisted, the boundary fair - though Vyx pouted, clearly cute and silly, all the same. “Then I want to get a look at your bike. We might need to take it back to my place. I have a garage space I can bring it to, work on it there.” He paused, reaching up to finish Vyx’s leg, before reaching for a bandage and starting to wrap their leg back down again. He paused, cutting it into pieces so Vyx had the ability to move with it on. “I’m not dragging you to my apartment because you got too excited and used too much blood.” 

“Fair. But you’re considering it?” Vyx asked, with a chuckle. It was weird, having someone touching them so thoroughly and yet so platonically, and it honestly made Vyx’s chest flutter. They hadn’t ever really met Flidais, back in Vince’s day, and their interactions with Al had been… less than stellar, but the feeling of protective comfort was almost overwhelming. Donnie didn’t answer, tying off the last bandage with practiced ease, before moving onto the other leg. Vyx was lucky that boners were voluntary for vampires, or the pain would have killed theirs quickly. They let him work in silence, the movements too painful for them to really speak, until he paused, getting up to clean the cloth off in the office’s tiny sink. “Forreal, though. If I’m overstepping, you gotta tell me. I am not  the Malk you trust to read the room, y’know? I’m not seeing the same wallpaper.” 

“Let me see the bike. I want to know how bad it is before I commit to anything.” Donnie replied, settling back at their knees. But his hands were gentle, more so than before, though it really didn’t too much to make it less painful. “But I’m a Brujah. We don’t just let people overstep.” He looked up, giving Vyx a look that reminded them he hadn’t ever said no. Vyx didn’t reply, as he started back quickly, but he’d grown more practiced by the second leg, and finished cleaning it quickly. Wrapping it was also quick, and much less painful. 

“Point, though I’m also kind of… learning, still. It’s really complicated, but I’ve only been like this for a couple years, so while I have a decent amount stored in the ol’ noggin, I’m still getting fresh first hand experiences. Y’know.” They shrugged, kicking their legs out after he finished, testing the wrapping. It was strong, but they still felt stiff legged. “You might actually have to carry me, I don’t know if I can walk like this.” 

“Let me finish the bandages.” Donnie sat down next to Vyx, the cot sinking low as he did so - it wasn’t really made for two - leaning in to press the cloth to their stomach, trying to clear the gravel from the wounds there, too. His hands were gentle, but the softness of their abdomen made everything that much weirder, and weirder quickly turned to pain. Vyx pushed out, but half heartedly, a show of displeasure rather than an actual attempt to push Donnie away. “Vyx.” Their name got their attention, as well as the hand on their wrist, and they settled, especially as they realized the hard part was over. Donnie’s grip wasn’t hard, but it was firm. 

“Sorry, that. That was reflexive.” Vyx chuckled, taking their arm back and holding their elbows up so he could wrap the bandages around their waist. “I imagine you’re no rookie at taking a smack, though.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Donnie chuckled, tying off the bandages and finding himself, again, spaced just so from Vyx’s face. This time, however, Vyx didn’t pull away, and Donnie didn’t either, lingering there a breath from each other’s lips, the moment in time paused between decisions, hanging there, waiting. 

“Neither am I, so don’t be afraid to tell me I’m overstepping.” Vyx replied, before leaning forward and pressing their lips to Donnie’s. It was a quick kiss, chaste, but long enough that Donnie found his hands ghosting Vyx’s jaw and Vyx’s hands found their way to his upper arms, their touch light and fleeting. They tasted like tobacco and their own blood, which registered to Donnie as spicy even as the flavor said mint, and then the taste was gone even as spots lingered in Donnie’s eyes, lids closed. Vyx lingered in the space near his face, watching the pinpricks as they darted back and forth, reeling from the moment and processing. But Donnie didn’t punch them, or even pull away, instead just opening his eyes and pushing up from the cot. 

“I’m getting you a shirt.” He said, instead, but there was a smile that said he was okay with that having happened. He pulled away, stepping to the desk and pulling out a bottom drawer. Inside, there were shirts, mostly plain white ones; Donnie’s boss and grandsire, Ray, tore through shirts on the daily, so his boss had stocked their back room with spares, just in case. It wasn’t that he couldn’t be shirtless, but there were times when he certainly needed to have one and it was easier if they were on hand. That meant, however, that the shirt was huge on Vyx, but they took it all the same, squirming into it and letting it fall down to their lap and thighs easily. “Now, bike, and then we’ll see where things go from there?”

“Yeah, I don’t think the cot would support us both like that, anyway.” Vyx chuckled, pushing themselves to the end of the bed. Standing was complicated, as they had bandages and splints in various places, but they managed to push themselves up, though they had to lean heavily on Donnie’s arm to not overbalance. The shirt dropped to Vyx’s thighs, covering most of their ass but stopping just short of being a practical dress. Donnie stayed still and let Vyx lean on him until they found their feet, before leading them out of the nurse’s office and back to the door where the bike was. There, they leaned on the doorway, watching Donnie as he inspected the bike just outside, the sleet sticking in his hair a little before melting; Vyx knew that, eventually, it wouldn’t even melt, because they weren’t warm, and there was something funny about the thought. Donnie peered around the mangled mess of metal and his sigh came after only a few seconds, because clearly, this was not a job done quickly. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna need my tools. Maybe a wizard.” He made a face, the prognosis kind of grim. “It might honestly be easier to fit this into the van as is.” He paused, making a face. “Alright, here’s the deal. This thing is going to need a miracle, and I can’t do that here. There’s a van through the back - do you think you can walk enough to get there? I have to carry this thing around to the garage door, and I figure you don’t want to walk in the rain with a fresh shirt.” 

“I think I can, yeah.” Vyx said, pushing off from the door and taking an experimental step. “I’m not gonna move fast, but I wasn’t ever a speedy bitch anyway.” They shrugged. 

“Alright. I’ll meet you at the van, and we’ll take that back to my garage. Once we get there, we’ll get you a drink.” He sighed, looking back at the bike at his feet. It almost hurt to look at the poor thing, honestly, and he could tell from just looking that this was not going to be a one night stand. “This is going to take a few days. You’ve really turned this thing into a pretzel.” 

“Good thing for you, I’m not the type to hit it and quit it.” They chuckled, pushing back from the wall again and back into the gym. “I’ll meet you at the van, but don’t rush on my part. This will take me a minute. Oh, can you grab my bag if you can get it? There’s a little drawstring… somewhere in that thing.” They shook their head, walking, stiff legged, back into the depths of the gym, and Donnie sighed. Had he been expecting a whirlwind that night? No. But he had a shortage of company, not in the same way, but solved similarly enough, and while the bike was going to be a nightmare, a challenge was not something he was against. 

Red and blue lights flickered against the alley wall, but Donnie ignored them, lifting the bike up and half rolling, half carrying it away from the lights and the Kine using them. This wasn’t their business, and never would be. 

~*~

Donnie’s apartment was a new kind of apartment, though the newness wasn’t really so much of a difference as to be really noticeable. It was a quick jaunt down the street, away from the police, the streets empty due to the crash behind them, before Donnie turned into a parking garage entrance. The ramp sloped down, however, and as they exited onto the first lower level, Vyx could see what had been added. Where there were apartments above, there were personal garages below, arranged like a storage facility but sized for cars and housed entirely underground. Donnie drove down one lane, taking a turn and pulling off to the side, hopping out and raising the door. There weren’t any remotes, and Vyx could see why - a universal garage opener would cause havoc, as while there was a range left or right, there wasn’t as much of one up or down. Not to mention how easy they were to program. Once opened, Vyx could see the garage was fairly spacious, with an assortment of tools and just enough space for two bikes and the van. It would be cramped, but they’d fit.

It was quick work to back the van into the spot, Donnie clearly a practiced hand at maneuvering the van in such a space, but once it was in, Donnie simply hopped out and headed for the passenger door, ignoring the trunk. He let Vyx out, making no motion to head to the back of the van, instead leading Vyx to the elevator next to his bay. “We’re just going to leave them there?” They asked, turning to the van as Donnie beeped the fob twice, sure now it was entirely locked, before slamming the door back down and closing off the garage entirely. 

“Would you rather a drink, or for me to fix your bike right now?” Donnie asked, in return and over his shoulder, and Vyx put their arms up just a little, as though to say asked and answered. Donnie shook his head, leading Vyx into the little metal elevator and pressing a button for his floor, skipping the lobby entirely. It seemed convenient, being able to just miss the front doors, and very much like a vampire built the space. “I’ll get them out when I actually get started. They won’t need the van until next weekend - the Big Guy won’t be back in the state until Friday, and we only really use it to get replacement machines when he breaks them.” Donnie shrugged, watching the numbers over their head ding a few times, before they arrived at his floor. 

The hallways looked like most apartments, so Vyx had no concept of what to expect; the slightly gray walls and darker gray floor didn’t give much insight as to the builder or decorator, though Vyx noted a distinct lack of windows at either end. If it had been a hotel, that would have told them something - they’d been in enough, over the years, to have noticed a few things about their respective styles. Donnie didn’t pay much mind to the outside, tapping his phone against a dark box at the top of the handle, and Vyx heard the mechanism inside whirr lightly as it accepted the code and unlocked. They weren’t very familiar with keyless entry - the only home they’d really known in the last decade had been an apartment with a key, and after that, briefly, a sewer - so there seemed a little magic to it, almost, but they only had a moment to think on it, as Donnie quickly ushered them inside. 

Vyx had definitely been in their fair share of apartments, yet somehow, they always managed to find themselves in awe all the same. It wasn’t the fact that the apartment was special - and it wasn’t, not really, classic NYC brick walls and big windows and compact alignment - but that how someone arranged their house said more about them as a person than anything else they did, and that was something Vyx never took for granted. The kitchen appeared, immediately to their left, and they could see a fully stocked bar separating the cooking space from the rest of the apartment, the actual kitchen just as well stocked and ready to use. Past the bar, stairs led up to a loft they couldn’t quite see, one of those L shaped sofas just beyond, and while it was lived in, it wasn’t messy. Vyx paused, staring for a moment at a Rocky poster framed nicely on one wall. It tracked. 

“Do you, like… eat food?” They asked, thumbing over their shoulder into the kitchen as they passed it, heading out into the main room at large. The apartment was honestly bigger than they’d expected, though they’d seen places in the city that were hardly a shoebox for the price of a Tesla, so nothing was really surprising about it all. Once in the main room, they could see up into the loft; there was a larger bed, though size escaped them at that angle, with some end tables and a crowbar framed over the top. It was definitely the most telling frame in the whole house, but Vyx was still learning the language that was Donnie and couldn’t quite figure out why it mattered so much. They could also see the edge of a desk and what looked like a fairly nice computer, but the angle of the loft made peering into it difficult. 

“Sometimes.” Donnie replied, stepping into the kitchen and futzing around with the bottles. He produced several, uncorking one and unscrewing others, though Vyx could tell he had one eye on them as he worked. The bottle he uncorked smelled strongly of blood, and Vyx had to fight the urge in their very veins to smash the entire bottle into their face in a desperate attempt to get all of that inside them. They were starving. “Do you?” Donnie asked, pouring a mix of alcohol and blood wine into a set of rocks glasses, before heading around the bar. Vyx took one glass in a hand that had more of a shake to it than they realized, though it was likely the blood being so close had their entire body buzzing. Hunger was a devil they chased all the time, and it wasn’t one that gave up quickly. 

“When I can, though I find that most places I crash these days don’t have full kitchens.” Vyx shrugged, taking a sip of the mixture in front of them like they had the self control to pace themselves; however, the second the blood touched their lips, the illusion of propriety fled the building and they immediately knocked the whole glass back, letting out a satisfied sigh like they hadn’t eaten in millenia. “Sorry, I… It isn’t just cooking that gets hard, y’know. Hard to tell if a town is full of Camis when they don’t speak English and you don’t speak anything but barely passable Spanish.” They chuckled, embarrassed, but Donnie didn’t even flinch - instead, he set his own glass down next to the sofa and went back to the bar, grabbing the open bottles from the bar top and heading back. He quickly poured Vyx a glass of just blood, before setting both bottles down on an end table, a sign that Vyx could, actually, settle in. 

They skulled the second glass just as fast, regardless. They needed to start stitching up their wounds. 

“You said you’d flown into JFK. Was Europe a business venture?” Donnie asked, curious but also reserved in his question. It was a polite way to gauge where Vyx was on the social hierarchy of vampires, which was a complicated and messy business just within the States. International politics only made it worse. Vyx chuckled, grabbing the wine bottle and pouring themselves a generous third glass - though they gave Donnie eyes asking if it was okay - with a top off of the whiskey, before settling in on the other half of the L, just far enough away from Donnie that it wasn’t cuddling yet, but close enough to feel intimate. 

“No, no. I… I needed some time to figure some stuff out? You know how that goes, right?” They chuckled, a sad little thing, the pain in their body ebbing as the blood did its work. They could feel their skin on their legs start to patch over, the creeping sensation of ants but more stinging and hot; they figured it was better to start on the outside, so they didn’t leave blood all over Donnie’s apartment - at least from places he didn’t consent to, anyway. “So I popped over the pond to see who was still around. Tried to find an old fling in London, but that didn’t pan, though I did get to talk to the Prince out there. He was pretty cool. Visited an old friend in Paris; she’s kinda going through it, unfortunately, but that seems pretty much everyone right now, right?” Vyx finally sipped their drink, just satiated enough that they didn’t go apeshit over the smell of blood. They were using it as they drank it, sure, but they knew how to keep themselves feeling satisfied while they did. It meant the healing was slow and methodical, but they had time. “Oh, and I dropped in on an old contact out in Eastern Europe. Cool dude, kinda weird. Think he honestly just likes having company.” 

“Can I ask who?” Donnie tried, curious but also definitely easy about it. Sometimes, Kindred relationships were fair game; other times, they were secret, quiet things, things that needed to stay in the darkest corners. Not every Kindred was a good person, and many were often objectively awful people. Almost all of them had at least one notch on their body count, if not more, and while innocent was not a term often applied to Kindred, guilty was not the best description of the dead, either. Telling someone you actively associated with an asshole was not always the best idea. Vyx paused, like they were realizing that Donnie had asked, which was not expected, but not in a way that said they hated telling him. Hell, the smile that graced their face said he probably wouldn’t believe them. 

“Vlad Dracul. Legitimately decent dude. Definitely had to do research on the decorum of the time, ‘cause he’s sort of a stickler about doing things by the book. Like, the letters I had to send first were absurd. Also in German. Good thing I knew a guy who spoke it, but it was a mess regardless. But once I was there he was a total dream host. Honest to Cain I think he’s just super lonely. Nobody lives out that way anymore, y’know? Kindred have moved West and he’s sort of stuck with his castle and his guys and horses and stuff.” 

“You’re kidding.” Donnie chuckled, like he honestly thought they were joking, but they didn’t reply, simply sipping their drink with a smirk that said this was the reaction they expected. “You really just know Dracula?” 

“Yeah, though not like, well. But a bunch of us are - were? Fuck if I know - on decent terms with one of Vlad’s childer so when shit hit the fan a couple years ago, we were like maybe we can ask him for help? And honestly he was the easiest to convince; all we had to do was say hey by the way there’s fighting you wanna join and he was like totally yeah absolutely no questions. Sure, was staging like six hundred horses a rough task? Yeah, but it wasn’t my rough task, so.” They giggled, finishing their third drink - the second with any alcohol, and only a small amount - before pouring themselves another, this time a heavy mix of both. “Also, hey, uh. Sorry if this is weird.” They said, before reaching, casually, to their leg and shoving their entire hand into the flesh, past the bandages Donnie had wrapped. Their fingers slipped through the first layer of skin like they were molding slime before going further than Donnie could see, and there was a slight crunch as their leg shifted. “Had to push the bone back into place before I healed anymore. The fracture was slipping.” 

“You do that flesh melding stuff?” Donnie asked, and he asked in a way that said that was a pretty neat trick that he had basically no experience with, which was true. He knew Konrad did that, sometimes, and that Konrad’s clan did that often, but he had no experience with any concept about it being something secret that only Konrad should have been able to do. Vyx considered the question as they fished their fingers from their leg, leaving behind nothing but blood on their hands from the initial wounds. There wasn’t even a scar left behind, a perfect wall of flesh where their hand had been before. 

“Yeah, picked it up from a Tzimisce, far as I know she only went by Eldest, back in… well, I think it was technically Statesville, but the technicalities are weird. She was pretty, though. Wouldn’t have called her a friend on my life, but hey, when they’re that old, altruism feels a lot like friendship, right?” They chuckled, wiping the blood off their fingers and onto their leg bandages, which were already stained from the slow healing. “Probably one of the weirder Kindred I can stake a claim to knowing, pun entirely intended, but that’s everyone, right? Kindred circles are small, and big wigs take up a lot of space. I bet you’re on the up and up with somebody, right? So it’s not that weird.” 

“I don’t know if you’d say that.” Donnie shook his head, the curiosity in human form in front of him both incredibly confusing but also just as interesting. They way they were so cavalier with their knowledge, or the ease with which they just spoke about shooting the shit with mother fucking Dracula - or this other Kindred, Eldest, whom he didn’t recognize but who’s name still made his mouth taste like ash and his skin prickle all the same - wasn’t something Donnie was really used to. Most Kindred played verbal chess, kept their hands hidden and didn’t spill what they didn’t need to spill, meanwhile Vyx was hanging out in his house chatting plainly about being better friends with one of the progenitors of vampire culture than most. They had no concept of a filter, let alone privacy. 

“Who do you work for, then?” Vyx asked, like they were trying to prove their earlier point, that Donnie knew somebody important, and there was something in it that seemed more desperate than anything else, like Vyx was trying to prove that they weren’t the weird ones in the room for knowing a couple of Methuselahs. Sure, they were definitely the weird one in the room, but they wanted the blood to earn that, not their circumstances. It wasn’t like they’d chosen to hang out with most of the people they knew - they’d been thrust, violently and without warning, into meeting a lot more people than they had ever thought they would, just because the world almost ended. 

“Well, my boss is Molly de l’Argonne, mostly.” Donnie replied, finishing his drink and pouring another. He wasn’t drunk enough for this conversation. “She’s powerful, if nothing else. But I’m the bottom of the ladder, so technically I work for this guy, Ryan, who sort of works for his husband, Ray, who works for Molly as her bodyguard. I might work for her, but I wouldn’t say I know her. I just work at the gym and do what I’m told.” Donnie shrugged, but Molly’s name seemed to be the thing that brought the most pleasure to Vyx’s face, which seemed like it would have been flushed with alcohol if they had the extra blood to send there. 

“Oh, yeah, her. I know her. She’s hella powerful, dude. You’re more on the up and up than you probably know.” Vyx chuckled, but the fact that they knew Molly was a strange one, and Donnie shifted forward. He knew Molly was a powerful Kindred, sure - she was Prima of the city, daughter of one of the proudest families in her clan, and she had holdings all over the East Coast. She was beautiful, she was a skilled Necromancer, and she surrounded herself with people who were just as powerful as she was and who would bend for her if she asked. And not only that, she’d married one of the most powerful Sabbat players in the US and shared his holdings. Donnie knew she was a lot, but he didn’t really know her, and it felt weird that he was getting credit for the idea when it wasn’t really true. 

“How do you know her?” Donnie asked, trying to push the conversation from their misunderstanding, because that’s what it had to be, and to something more comfortable. If Vyx noticed his intentions, they didn’t mention it, clearly focused on other things. 

“Uh, it’s a long one, but the short bit is she was the one that raised me from the dead and stuff.” Vyx said, and they said it like they were talking about meeting her at Zumba classes on a Tuesday and not how she raised them from death. Especially as they weren’t a Giovanni, but Molly was, raising them from the dead didn’t actually mean being sired. “Here, lemme run this like this: how familiar are you with the bullshit that happened in 2018? Down in North Carolina, mostly?” 

“I know something happened, but I wasn’t Kindred until the 2020s.” Donnie explained. He was aware stuff had gone down, sure. But he was aware of it like he was aware of the Week of Nightmares - a thing that happened to other people, before his time, and that probably wouldn’t happen again. Something about Molly being dominated to work for a Nosferatu that had subsequently dusted, and a lot of people calling it the almost end of the world, though it hardly sounded anything but facetious. He wasn’t sure what the crime was, but he could tell from the way everyone was touchy about it that there was a big crime committed, and Molly was paying out the ass to apologize for it. 

“So, in short, this guy named Pip tried to kill every vampire, retroactively, ‘cause he thought Kindred as a whole were a net bad. Man had some trauma to work through and kinda picked the worst way to do it, y’know? He dominated Molly to work for him when she realized what he was doing, if I recall correctly. And for a long time, he was… a friend of ours. Until he wasn’t.” Vyx sighed, pouring themselves another hefty glass of alcohol and blood. “It’s fuckin’ wild how the people you pull closest to you are the ones most likely to nail your ass to the wall for their shitty fuckin’ games.” They shook their head. “Regardless, there was this whole… thing. Big ass war. Multiple states and continents involved. We managed to convince a bunch of assholes that hated each other to not hate each other long enough to push Pip’s shit into the ground, though. Like, a couple Tremere from London, and a Trujah, also from London, some Kindred who were also faeries from Ireland, and then some Giovanni from Paris. And then Vlad. Molly’s guy, Konrad? He’s the German I mentioned earlier. My, uh… I think technically she’s my ex-girlfriend right now ‘cause she doesn’t know I’m alive, but she ripped his throat out with her teeth and ate him, so then they were the same person for all of this and so when we went recruiting Konrad was like I can totally ask my grandsire and sent Vlad a letter, even though he doesn’t really like the dude all that much but I think it’s more embarrassed teen than anything else ‘cause Vlad’s cool as shit.” Vyx chuckled. 

“Regardless, whole big battle happened in September. Forty-something Kindred, all big power players, plus hundreds of horses and knights and shit, versus an army of szlachta, zombies, and two vozhd, plus Molly, Ray, and a bunch of other powerful people Pip had gotten on his side for one reason or another. Including a Baali, for the record - Illya Illustra, figure you probably don’t know him. Though, he was on his own side, ‘cause he helped us take Pip out back and ruin him but he also wanted to do what Pip was doing ‘cause he knew it would end the world. Y’know, usual Baali shit.” 

“How did a Baali help you win?” Donnie asked, enraptured. It was a story so unbelievable, it couldn’t be real, yet Donnie knew his bosses had a high opinion of Malkavians and their truthfulness, not to mention what he knew tracked. Ending the world was kind of a terrible crime to be accused of, and he’d heard stories of trips out to North Carolina. Of long talks with a Nosferatu in a plague doctor mask. Hell, he knew it in the way he’d seen Molly’s right hand, Claire, flinch a little when she talked about getting coerced back down there in a colloquial way. Even referencing the concept as a joke had her on edge, so he could tell that things were big.  

“He taught our resident wizard how to do a cool wizard thing that meant Pip went from being next in line to kiss Caine’s taint right back down to being his like… great-great-great-great-great-great grandkid. And that meant that he couldn’t handle a rocket launcher directly to the face quite as well as he used to.” Vyx shrugged. “To be fair here, nobody was Illya’s fan - we’re all pretty much against the end of the world ‘cause we like this unlife thing, right? - but we weren’t looking a gift horse in the mouth, y’know? Besides, there’s something comforting to knowing a guy’s entire purpose is to fuck you over, even if he’s being nice.” They shifted, settling back into the sofa, the alcohol starting to hit. “When Pip died, of course he then tried to end the world anyway. I don’t… I know we won. But I didn’t go with them. I couldn’t, I was a liability, I was blood bonded to the wrong chick and couldn’t risk it.” They paused again, staring at their glass. “I… I moved Molly out of the rain, I think. That part’s fuzzy. And then someone shot me. Which, dying was its own whole thing and then I was here ‘cause Molly had been asked to bring me back. Which is more complicated than that even sounds, but if I kept going on here, I’d never stop.” They chuckled, but they left the moment in quiet, letting Donnie process the whole thing. It was, in fact, a lot to go through, and it was made more overwhelming for the fact that apparently, that wasn’t the whole story. 

“If you were killed in the war, wouldn’t your friends want to see you?” He asked, instead. Processing the end of the world - especially one he wasn’t there for - was going to be something he did over days, not minutes, so he quietly took the box of information and shoved it under his mental seat to unpack later. He had, at least, the gist of it - some uppity Nosferatu wanted to kill all Kindred out of some self-hatred complex, Molly got involved on the wrong side, the good guys won, and the biggest losses seemed to hit after the fact - and that was all he needed right then. Whether or not Molly had fought Vlad Dracul was a question for another day. But the question he asked - meant to be something light, something he’d asked thinking he’d get a story about a cool, multi-continent reunion - only brought sadness to Vyx’s face. 

“Ha, yeah. That’s. That’s kinda the problem here, QB.” Vyx shifted, squirming in their seat, before they pushed themselves up on their legs. They wobbled, but having refit the bone, they didn’t fall back down, and while the alcohol gave them a bit of a sway, they were steady enough. “I need a cigarette.” They paused, looking down at the space where pockets probably should have been and realizing they didn’t have any anymore. “Ugh, they’re in my bag.” 

“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to fish that out, yet.” Donnie said, standing to join them and producing a pack of blue American Spirits, flipping the pack open with one finger and shaking one to the front with a flick of the wrist. Vyx slipped the cigarette out with a delicate touch that said they’d done this before. “It might be easier once I start on the bike.” He paused, heading over to one of his windows and cracking it open, giving them a breath of fresh air to push the smoke into - it wasn’t like he needed to breathe, of course, but it wouldn’t do for his house to smell like a smoker’s den. 

“Eh, fair. Not like I need my phone or much right now. Nobody’s looking for me.” Vyx sighed, following Donnie to the window while absently patting around for a lighter in their pockets and again finding that they had neither pockets nor anything in them. Donnie didn’t pause for them to check, pulling out his own lighter and lighting a cigarette for himself; he exhaled out the open window, though there was little reason to do so as he didn’t breathe, holding up the Zippo lighter in the same hand as the cigarette as an indication that he could light it for them. Seeing the motion, they grinned - a sly thing, considering - leaning in with the cigarette to their lips, clear in their intentions. If they hadn’t checked in repeatedly, Donnie would have been more put off, but instead, he leaned in, pressing the lit end of his cigarette to theirs to light it. It was an intimate gesture, their lips only separated by the length of two cigarettes, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t already kissed. They were both lucky that they were smokers, as the fire from the Zippo hardly registered. “But yeah, no one really… wanted me back, once I got back.” Vyx supplied the answer they’d left waiting, exhaling the smoke as they did, leaning on the window sill as though they were on a balcony.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.” Donnie said, softly. He knew relationships were complicated, even before adding in being a vampire, and that eternity only made them more complex, not less. He hadn’t even been a vampire for many years, but he could tell that having to exist next to the same people for the kind of time one simply couldn’t count would make anyone’s feelings just that much more intense. And this was without having to factor in the fact that a war absolutely meant a lot of hurt feelings. 

“I dunno, I probably should tell someone.’ Vyx said, softly, staring out at the New York city streets below them like they were watching ants at a picnic. Donnie’s apartment wasn’t particularly high, so it meant less skyline and more street view, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t interesting. Vyx inhaled, slowly, taking a long drag off the cigarette before exhaling it out into the chilly New York evening air. “It’s… complicated, but I think keeping it to myself has only made it worse, y’know? The issue is that I’m… not really the guy who died.” The paused, looking up at Donnie like they’d just dropped the worst news they possibly could, though they didn’t react to the fact that Donnie didn’t seem to notice the gravity - it tracked, considering he hadn’t met the man they’d been before and wouldn’t have known the difference regardless. Being a third party honestly made it better, not worse, however, as they knew he wouldn’t judge. “The guy I was before was this guy named Vince. I remember everything he did - it’s like sorting through someone else’s diary, though it’s all there - but I’m… not him. Molly even confirmed it. He’s in here, somewhere, and I’m just reading his memories and the context they added for me together when I know things, but I’m not… I wasn’t real until he died, y’know? I existed for all of like five days before the clump of cells that was me just wasn’t anymore. And if you think nurture is the only thing that matters when you’re raising a kid, we’re the same person, ‘cause I have his childhood and upbringing and lack of college education. But I know Kindred think of us as more a nature thing, and my nature is that I’m not Vince. I was a ride along for most of his life, but I’m distinct and separate from him in every way - except I’m also kinda… not? Cause I remember dating people and intimate evenings and all that shit, so I feel like I’ve still lived that life, even if it wasn’t me. It was my life as much as it was his, even if it wasn’t. And my husband? Well, our and ex-husband, kinda. Vince married him, but it feels weird not to claim him, y’know? I think he’s technically a widower until Sleeping Beauty in here wakes up, but he wasn’t happy that I was the one that came back. And I don’t blame him! Like, if I dated you for a bit and then you died and came back as Dana - and not as a transition thing, as in she was totally not you - I’d also probably need time to adjust. But he didn’t want to take that time, so I… did what he asked. I left.” 

“I wouldn’t have kicked you out.” Donnie said, softly, the only thing he could think to say. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and he wasn’t the kind of guy to not try if he could. It was hard, though, trying to vicariously figure out Vyx’s life with them, especially when he didn’t know the players and only kind of understood the game. What they’d lived through seemed like a once in a lifetime thing, but over and over again, a series of unusual and unfortunate happenstances that would leave anyone reeling from one, let alone more than one. But he knew, at least, he could give them a little comfort that not everyone was an asshole. That some people cared, even a little bit. “He could have given you a chance.” 

“Yeah, I… I’m trying not to be mad at him, honestly.” Vyx said, staring at the brick facade across from them like it had the secrets to the universe tattooed on the backside and they could see it if they looked hard enough. There was something incredibly sad to their voice, like if they had the capacity for tears, they’d be crying. “Like, I should be, right? I should be pissed. I’m like, pretty sure he’s the one who shot me, but if I didn’t account for being surrounded by manipulative bitches, I’d be stupid, so I don’t know for sure. But I was the only person he had on his side, both during the war and right after. Everyone else ranged from generally apathetic to his existence to actually gunning to kill him, and most of them were pretty justified, even if it wasn’t the best choice. It’s not anyone’s fault their threshold for betrayal is once. But my friends wanted him dead, no exceptions. People he thought were his friends wanted him dead. And he was, technically, on the other side of the war before we saved him, so a bunch of people that know him also definitely want him dead now. Imagine living for this long and then suddenly, wham, no friends. If I was mad at him, too, then he wouldn’t have anyone at all.” They took another long drag, flicking the cigarette filter with their thumb to displace the ash as they exhaled. “He’s been through a lot. I’m trying to give him grace while we both take a minute to figure ourselves out.” 

“He’s lucky to have you.” Donnie added, giving them a knowing look. “If I were on the side of a war where all of my friends hated me and wanted me dead, I’d cherish anyone left still fighting for me, not chase them away.” He took a drag from the cigarette. “He sounds like he makes poor decisions.” 

“Oh, he does. Like most of the time.” Vyx laughed, a real thing, like talking about the issues of their old partner, but with a sense of it being gossip and venting and not whatever the hell they’d just been doing, suddenly made things better again. It didn’t, but it was nice to hide behind it. Sadness was never something easy to chase off, even for Kindred; it lingered in the back corners, waiting for the night to wane to first morning’s light to bring those thoughts back. But a laugh was good enough, for the moment. “He’s still a ghoul and he eats like, maybe once a day at most if someone doesn’t bother him about it. I literally started dating him ‘cause my girlfriend had fucked off - this was right after she consumed Konrad’s soul so like, they were in the trenches, y’know - and he did not do self care so I moved in to make him dinner sometimes and next thing I know he’s thinking I’m his old hubby from way back when and then wham it just... Kind of happened. But he’s a good guy. He’s got a persona of an asshole and I think some people just can’t see past that, and hey, that means the persona worked, right? But he’s not a bad dude. He just can’t ask for help on his own, including for feeding himself. So I had to take that one on myself.” They shook their head. “Oh, like one time? We were fucking around in the Richmond area and he was around doing fuck knows what, and we ended up breaking into a meeting for the KKK and after we killed everyone in the building I stole their party sized Mac ‘n Cheese for him. He was appreciative.” 

“You stole mac ‘n cheese from Klansmen?” Donnie asked, aghast, though it was hard to tell at what - he had no concept for when this was, but Vyx talked like they weren’t that old, so it had to be recent enough, and that meant there were still Klansmen around, which was a lot, but there was also the issue of the fact that they thought the mac was worth stealing. Vyx cackled at the question. 

“Oh yeah. You want good food, you raid the fridge of a Southerner. Besides, racism can’t taint Mac ‘n cheese, and in return for the gift, we killed them all and ruined their lives, so it wasn’t like we paid for it. They did.” Vyx shook their head. “We also murdered like, most of Richmond, so. One of my best plans, if I may say so myself.” They pushed off from the window, turning around to lean back against it with their elbows, their cigarette dangling from their teeth. It was a weird sensation for Donnie, because for a moment, just a moment, they weren’t Vyx, but someone else, someone he hadn’t met; they moved like their limbs should have been longer and the cigarette was meant to live between their teeth and like they’d been beaten down so hard by the world that the flinch was just reflexive - and then, suddenly, they were themselves again, and the moment passed. “But enough about me. I’ve got the sads for so many lifetimes. I bet you got stories, right? Most Kindred do.”

“Some, though not as many, I don’t think.” Donnie shrugged, taking a long drag from his cigarette, trying to think of something to say. It was hard, being put on the spot, especially following any of what he just heard. He was a nobody following a famous comic act, but the famous comic was sitting in the front as his biggest fan. Nothing he could say would hit just as well, but he couldn’t back down from the moment, either. Eventually, he smiled, a story coming to mind that he thought was enough. Enough what, he wasn’t really sure, but he was rolling on instinct. It felt appropriate to do, considering he was talking to a Malkavian. “I’ve only worked with these people for a few years, so there isn’t much.” He prefaced, just to be sure they knew this wouldn’t be quite as dramatic as ending the world, or quite as funny as stealing mac ‘n cheese from Klansmen. Vyx shrugged. 

“I’m game for anything, dude. I’m just getting tired of hearing myself talk, here, and I know I’m not the only one in the room who's interesting.” They gave him a grin, something slick and flirty, and he sighed. 

“So… you know who runs New York.” Donnie said, first, a question as a statement but one that was both rhetorical but also confirmed by the small smile on Vyx’s face. If nothing else, they knew he was referencing Molly as the woman in charge of the whole city, which was what mattered. If that was true or not, they didn’t know, but the details of who actually ran the city weren’t important. Donnie’s story was the truth from the moment it left his lips; to Vyx, he was spitting gospel and they were simply a disciple at his feet. “I don’t think it’s any kind of surprise that people want to try and unseat her when they can. A powerful woman, with a face as pretty as hers and the skills to back herself up? I’ve met guys before that would see her existence as a challenge, and they wouldn’t even have anything to gain from it.” He paused, taking a drag off the cigarette, looking down the street from the window like he could see the story’s center past the buildings. 

“This one guy really thought he was something, but he wasn’t worth the blood spent to sire him. I don’t remember his name, he honestly wasn’t that important, but he tried to send his guys into the city to make trouble. I don’t know if he thought he could just… unseat her by causing a little chaos in the city, but I can say for sure it didn’t go the way he planned. What was, to my knowledge, an attempt to blitz the city turned into his guys running back to their home base with me, Ray, Ryan, and a bunch of other Brujah from the gym right on their tails.” Donnie chuckled, the memory a sweet one. There wasn’t anything quite like hunting alongside others like oneself, especially against a foe that was objectively worth killing. “He had a helicopter, and none of us were fast enough to catch him before he got on it, and while Ray can jump pretty far, that’s not flying. But I thought, hey, I’m not that big, at least compared to Ray, and I’m not that important if things went to shit. So I told the big guy to make me fly.” 

“You got him to throw you?” Vyx was quick to the draw, impressed, and Donnie laughed at the fact that they were so into the story. It didn’t even feel like a great story, but they were entranced all the same, and there was something within him that seemed to just clip into place; a string between them tightened, tied down and permanent now, a connection between souls that couldn’t be broken. He didn’t know it, but he was part of their world in a way that he couldn’t change.   

“Yep. Launched me like a rocket. I don’t know how I didn’t hit the blades, but I didn’t. Of course, the pilot wasn’t exactly cool with someone entering their helicopter mid flight. Nor was this guy really cool with me ripping his heart out and throwing it into the Hudson.” Donnie shrugged, turning around to lean on the window sill, staring at the interior of his own home and feeling like he was seeing it for the first time, noticing the posters and the crowbar and the way the dishes in the sink spoke to the person he was. Being around a Malkavian was sometimes like seeing for the first time, even without tasting the blood - though the kiss earlier still had his brain dancing with colors he didn’t normally see. “I jumped out after, landed in the Hudson. Couldn’t see for shit. I don’t know what happened to the helicopter. I did find out that Ryan, my sire, thought I’d died until I called him from a payphone and asked for a ride. Apparently, I’d disappeared, and the chopper had crashed just after, so they’d thought I’d gone with it.”

“Hey, at least your sire gives a shit.” Vyx chuckled, leaning back to exhale the smoke from their lungs into the night without having to turn around. “I think mine… kinda cared, but she was a Malk, right? So trying to actually do anything constructive about that gets kinda… difficult. Her grandsire tried, but the Old Man thought giving us a sword stuffed in the fridge without any context was helping, so.”

“Who’s your sire?” Donnie asked, curiously. He was familiar with only one real line of Malkavian, and while he was aware that wasn’t a standard thing - sure, the Giovanni were particularly into the lineages, but more by actual blood than siring - he hadn’t considered the idea that Malkavians didn’t have family lines like that before. But the way Vyx talked about their sire, especially the past tense, had him thinking a little differently. 

“Her name was Bella. She died pretty early on into things.” Vyx took a long, long drag on the cigarette, the shitty fact that their sire was completely gone something that still stung. “Hell, she wasn’t even technically my sire. She only ever met Vince. But the blood is retroactive, I guess? Or, at least, enough of me was turned into a vampire by her that I’m also hers. Regardless, Pip killed her.” They shook their head. “Her sire was a guy named Glamis. Vince called him Old Man. He… god, he tried so hard, but he was walking proof that a gullible idiot is more useful than an intelligent professional any day.” They slumped against the window, their gaze more absent, the memories in their head taking precedent. “They killed him. Full on execution, trial, the whole thing. Entirely unfair and unreasonable trial, considering the guy who framed him was the dude helping proceed over the whole mess, but Vince couldn’t have done shit. He was a neonate.” 

“What did they frame him for?” Donnie asked, concerned. Vyx looked up at him, their stare something serious and also uncomfortable, like they knew he wouldn’t really like, or believe, the thing they were about to say but that it also wasn’t the weirdest thing they’d said all night. “Wouldn’t dominate make framing someone for something they didn’t do difficult?” He added, trying to think of the things he did in fact know about vampires. Vyx snorted. 

“Well… he blew up the top floor of this big ass bank finance office thing, killing a bunch of Kindred, including the original domitor of Greensboro’s current Sheriff, a guy named Duncan. Who was also, unfortunately, a fucking Archon.” Vyx took a moment to pull on their cigarette, their pointed expression of not looking at Donnie only making the words worse. It was a terrible, horrible crime to be accused of, assassinating the upper echelon of Kinred society while also blowing up a Kine building and causing massive damage to the city as a whole. Greensboro, the town Vyx mentioned, was, as far as Donnie understood, a Camarilla town through and through. And not like how Molly technically ran a Camarilla town, either. “Worst part?” Vyx added, not looking at Donnie for another long, long second. “The fucker actually did the thing. Like, he planted the bombs and set the trigger and all of this shit. He’d just been convinced by everyone’s favorite shithead of a Nosferatu that something worse was gonna happen if he didn’t. So the trial was open and shut. He did it, everyone saw him do it, his brain said he did it, the whole thing. And since his manipulator was on the jury, that was that.” They exhaled, slowly. “It was definitely a sad one. But I think he’s probably happier frolicking in whatever fucked up post-life fields he’s found, tilting at Windmills and screaming about Birnam Wood.” 

“Sorry for your loss.” Was all Donnie could think to say. He’d not met many Kindred sans sires, as most of his friends had very powerful sires that weren’t easily killed. Vyx shrugged. 

“Eh, Vince got over it, so I’m kinda over it. Though, he wasn’t really super attached to them, so it was more like the unfortunate plight of a shelter puppy on your adoption short-list than anything really sad.” They shook their head, noticing their cigarette was getting low. “I don’t even think Bella wanted to sire me, but the blood just went yeah, fuck it we ball. Like it knew it needed Vince, or me, as a Malk.” They paused, their lips splitting into a smile with a memory. “I also think she knew she was the only one who could try, y’know? ‘Cause like, it was a weird situation.” They paused, stubbing the cigarette out on the window sill and tucking the free end behind their ear, before stepping out into the room. “Picture this: a bunch of Kine sitting in the local bar in the area, which is staffed by a bunch of Kindred. We’re already in the know, right, ‘cause we’d snuck into a Kindred party and one of our friends got Predator’d by fucking Konrad himself, though admittedly looking back that guy was kind of a creep and also totally didn’t have to go over there, but I digress.” They paused, mentally arranging the scene in their head. “Regardless, we’d all also just watched Duncan get blown to shit, which sucked ass, right? And Vince had these memories that he couldn’t access, and he was like can anyone get these out of my head? And Bella said sure and dragged us down the street before basically slicing us open  in a fucking back alley.” They chuckled, shrugging. “I woke up wearing nothing but my jacket - Vince had been like hey don’t throw that away thanks and wasn’t specific like a doofus - with a note on the wall that had a die under a like no sign and the word Good twice.” They paused, giving Donnie a second to think about it. “Meant no dice, too good. I ended up walking back to the fucking bar in my jacket with a bedsheet wrapped around my waist. Luckily it was late and nobody was out, but still.” They sighed. “What about you?”

“How did I get sired?” Donnie asked, trying to be sure of the question. Talking to Vyx was like trying to swim in the open ocean - his focus was notably on keeping his head above water, so when they tried to point out landmarks to see if he’d seen them, he had to take a second to figure out what they meant. 

“Yeah. Did you wake up in a dumpster with nothing but your jacket and a note that was your sire realizing she’d been outclassed? Or was that just me?” Vyx asked, heading back to lean again on the wall, this time much closer than before. Donnie thought for a long second, putting the memory together in his head. It wasn’t something he thought about, often, because it was honestly a sad memory. Many were, for Kindred, but this one hit different. 

“It’s not as exciting.” Donnie prefaced, just in case. He knew his life was simply nothing as compared, because Vyx had lived through absurdity and death, while he’d only been putzing around for a few years. It didn’t seem to matter, as Vyx looked ready to hear it all the same. “I just… I saw this guy in an alley one night. Kind of a twink, definitely on the defensive, and this other guy was moving in on him with his shoulders down. I thought the first guy - that was Ryan - was gonna get mugged, so I grabbed the first thing I could find, which was a crowbar, and went after the second guy.” He paused, letting the memory wash over him, the smell of New York’s back alleys and the feel of metal in his hands a comfort. “I didn’t know what celerity was at the time, but next thing I knew, I was being held hostage and Ryan had a fucking MP5 submachine gun out. Don’t know why I didn’t expect him to be packing that kind of heat, but it was certainly a surprise. This second guy had something to my throat, said he would kill me if Ryan didn’t back off - knew his name and everything. I don’t know what I’d actually gotten involved in, but I was definitely over my head. And I could see Ryan weighing the odds of whether he’d hit me or not, and I don’t… I don’t know how I could tell, but something told me that letting that other guy live would be the worst choice. So I told him to just do it.” 

“You asked him to kill you.” Vyx said the words as a statement, not a question, and Donnie shrugged. It was kind of a sad line, but ultimately, it was the truth. 

“I figured, if that’s what it took to get this other asshole off the street, whatever. I’d lived a decent enough life, but I wasn’t really trying for much, so it wouldn’t be like the world would suffer without me, y’know? Not like we’d lose someone important, like a doctor or a genius.” Donnie shrugged, trying not to think too hard on it. “Ryan took the shot. Hurt like a bitch. Next thing I know I’m waking up on the ground and he’s telling me all this shit about being a vampire and how he’s sorry this went the way it did and that he was glad I was willing to do something ‘cause that guy was bad news.” 

“You’re important.” Vyx said, with all the sincerity of someone who simply knew the answers. Donnie blinked, cocking an eyebrow at the words, stubbing his cigarette out on the sill as well. “Everyone’s important. Like, I’ve been a Malk all of a couple years here, but I’ve learned one thing and that’s that every single person matters. You were important ‘cause you saw a person in trouble and went, fuck it, let’s go, and that meant Ryan lived so he could do something else he needed to do and that will ripple all the way down, y’know?” They paused, biting at their lip. “I think the most important thing here, though, is whether you have a cool scar from it.” They turned to him, pulling at the edge of their lip in a way that said they were done talking and felt much better. Donnie chuckled, raising an eyebrow. 

“It definitely left a scar.” He said, watching them move as though he could figure out exactly what they wanted from sight alone. They were honestly doing a good job of showcasing their intentions, to be fair. They stepped forward, the smirk still on their face. 

“Can I see?” They pouted, letting themselves slowly lean forward, pressing against Donnie’s chest with pursed lips. Donnie chuckled, pressing his hands to their arms gently. This was, as far as he figured, the only way the night would have gone, and he was sure of it the second Vyx had wandered into the gym. Vyx was flirty, open, and far too kind to leave in the lurch, and honestly, Donnie was cool with it. He’d take them up on the offer, and then tomorrow would happen, and they would figure out what that meant then. There wasn’t any reason to rush; they had all night. 

The bike could wait until morning, at least.

[johnkatsmc5]

Quincy Conserve " Listen To The Band" 1970 + "Epitaph (Quincy Conserve 1967-71)" 1972 +  "Tasteful" 1973 +  "The Quincy Conserve" 1975 + "The Singles Collection" 2014 Compilation New Zealand Prog Jazz Rock

full spotify

https://open.spotify.com/album/2wZBWSIVwrgaaGN6vyRHNF

https://open.spotify.com/album/234bMNJLzYeMNvrprNn2LR

https://open.spotify.com/album/67FJOMTc9c8rAuUhrwxNVa

https://open.spotify.com/album/09RtSgxphKhaEAy6tIFpFH

Quincy Conserve " Listen To The Band" 1970

From 1970, this is the rare debut album from Wellington's Quincy Conserve, featuring their brass/rock sound at it's best. Vocals and arrangements by Malcolm Hayman are augmented by some superb musicians including the multi-talented Bruno Lawrence...~ Credits Bass Guitar, Guitar, Organ, Backing Vocals – Dave Orams Drums – Bruno Lawrence Guitar, Trumpet, Backing Vocals – Kevin Furey Lead Vocals, Guitar – Malcolm Hayman Organ, Backing Vocals, Piano, Alto Horn – Rufus Rehu Tenor Saxophone, Alto Saxophone, Backing Vocals – Dennis Mason Tenor Saxophone, Baritone Saxophone, Flute, Trumpet, Arranged By [Brass, Woodwind] – Johnny McCormack* Tracklist A1 Introduction - Faith Written-By – Quincy Conserve A2 Somebody Stole My Thunder Lead Vocals – Dennis Mason Written-By – Fame* A3 Ride The Rain Written-By – Lawrence* A4 Sugar Man Written-By – Bob Darin* A5 I Feel Good Written-By – J. Brown* A6 Frustration Written-By – Quincy Conserve B1 Does Anybody Really Know What The Time Is Written-By – R. Lamm* B2 Everybody Has Their Way Lead Vocals – Dennis Mason Written-By – Lawrence* B3 Baby I Couldn't See Lead Vocals – Dave Orams Written-By – Macleod-Macaulay B4 What Is The World Coming To Lead Vocals – Dennis Mason Written-By – Dennis Mason B5 Finale (Encouragement) Written-By – Quincy Conserve

Quincy Conserve "Epitaph (Quincy Conserve 1967-71)" 1972

Credits Bass, Vocals – Dave Orams Cover, Design, Artwork By – January Productions Drums – Richard Burgess* Engineer – Peter Hitchcock Guitar, Vocals – Malcom Hayman Organ, Electric Piano, Piano – Rufus Rehu Producer – Peter Dawkins Tenor Saxophone, Alto Saxophone, Vocals – Dennis Mason Tenor Saxophone, Flute – John McCormick (13) Trumpet, Horn [Tenor Horn] – Barry Brown-Sharpe Tracklist A1 Aire Of Good Feeling Written-By – Peterik* A2 Peeling Paint Written-By – D. Orams* A3 My Michellechan Written-By – McCormick* A4 That Same Feeling Written By – Simonds A5 Going Back To The Garden Written-By – D. Mason* B1 Someone To Find Written-By – R. Burgess* B2 Mystery Lady Written-By – C. Simpson* B3 All Right In The City Written-By – Dunn*, McCashen* B4 Here I Am Baby Written-By – Robinson* B5 Common Man Written-By – Malcolm Hayman

Quincy Conserve "Tasteful" 1973

Credits Bass [Fender Bass] – Graeme Thompson Drums, Percussion, Backing Vocals [Vocal Backing] – Tom Swainson Electric Piano, Organ [Hammond Organ], Piano – Rufus Rehu Engineer, Remix – Peter Hitchcock Lead Guitar, Rhythm Guitar, Backing Vocals [Vocal Backing] – Kevin Furey Producer – Alan Galbraith Tenor Saxophone, Alto Saxophone, Percussion – John McCormick (13) Trumpet, Congas – Barry Brown-Sharpe Vocals – Graeme Thompson (tracks: A1, B1) Vocals, Percussion – Malcolm Hayman Tracklist A1 Volcano Written-By – J.R.Robertson* 2:35 A2 Move On Up Written-By – C.Mayfield* 4:00 A3 First Written-By – D.Pomeranz* 3:15 A4 Keep On Pushing (Revised Version) Written-By – D.Smelko*, M.Geraci*, J.Corrao* 3:11 A5 Live Today Written By – G.Foster 4:00 A6 Keep On Playing That Rock And Roll Written-By – Winter*, La Croix* 3:46 B1 My Brother Jake Written-By – Fraser*, Rodgers* 2:52 B2 Lulu Belle Written-By – Gary Coleman 3:03 B3 I Saw The Light Written-By – Todd Rundgren 2:58 B4 Lazy Kind Of Day Written-By – Smelko*, Sopuch*, Rastus 3:25 B5 Ain't Seen Nothing Yet Written-By – D.Troiano*, R.Kenner* 2:50 B6 Slut Written-By – Todd Rundgren 4:15 Extra Tasteful C1 All Right In The City Written-By – Dunn*, McCashen* 2:42 C2 Ride The Rain Written-By – Bruno Lawrence 2:56 D1 Aire Of Good Feeling Written-By – Jim Peterik 4:17

Quincy Conserve "The Quincy Conserve" 1975

Credits Art Direction – Sylvie Gelin* Bass – Murray Loveridge Drums – Bill Brown (2) Electric Guitar – Paul Clayton (3) Electric Piano, Organ – Peter A. Blake* Engineer – Frank Douglas (tracks: A1), Phil Yule (tracks: A2 to B4) Producer – Terence O'Neill-Joyce Trombone – Rodger Fox Trumpet, Flugelhorn, Flute – Geoff Culverwell Vocals – Malcolm Hayman Tracklist A1 Cecilia Written-By – Geoff Culverwell A2 Person To Person Written-By – Gorrie*, AWB*, Stuart* A3 What Are We Doing Here Written-By – Peter Blake A4 Rockin' Chair Written-By – Lighthouse (2), Ralph Cole, Skip Prokop A5 Gisbourne Swimming Pool Song Written-By – Paul Clayton (3) A6 Havana Strut Written-By – E. Deodato* B2 Leigh's Hymn Written-By – Rodger Fox B3 Fault Line Written-By – Paul Clayton (3) B4 Funky Stuff Written-By – Cool & The Gang* B5 (K) Road Blues Written-By – Quincy Conserve

Quincy Conserve "The Singles Collection" 2014 Compilation

Tracklist I'm So Proud I've Been Loving You Baby   Hallelujah Here's To The Next Time Lovin' Look Soul Thing   Ride The Rain I Feel Good Everybody Has Their Way   Frustration   Aire Of Good Feeling Don't Arrange Me   Alright In The City   Somebody Stole My Thunder Going Back To The Garden My Michellechan Somebody, Somewhere, Help Me Tango Boo Gonk   Roundhouse You Can't Take Your Love Rock N Roll Travellin' Show -- Warehouse   Keep On Pushing Lady Listen Slut Keep On Playing That Rock And Roll   Line-up Malcolm Hayman: lead guitar, vocals, arrangements Kevin Furey: guitar, trumpet, vocals Ria Kerekere: vocals Dave Orams: bass guitar, vocals Graeme Thompson: bass guitar, vocals Frits Stigter: bass guitar Rufus Rehu: keyboards Johnny McCormick: saxophone, flute Dennis Mason: saxophone, vocals Barry Brown-Sharpe: trumpet, tenor horn Raice McLeod: drums Earl Anderson: drums Brian Beauchamp: drums Bruno Lawrence: drums Richard Burgess: drums Tom Swainson: drums Mike Conway: drums Billy Brown: drums Paul Clayton: guitar, vocals Harry Leki: guitar Murray Loveridge: bass guitar Peter Blake: keyboards Rodger Fox: trombone Geoff Culverwell: trumpet Peter Cross: trumpet

Quincy Conserve ‎"The Very Best Of... " 2001 CD compilation New Zealand Prog Jazz Rock

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2016/11/quincy-conserve-epitaph-quincy-conserve.html

Quincy Conserve " Listen To The Band" 1970 + "Epitaph (Quincy Conserve 1967-71)" 1972 +  "Tasteful" 1973 +  "The Quincy Conserve" 1975 + "The Singles Collection" 2014 Compilation New Zealand Prog Jazz Rock

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2025/01/quincy-conserve-listen-to-band-1970.html?view=magazine

https://johnkatsmc5.tumblr.com/post/771855948352552960/quincy-conserve-listen-to-the-band-1970

[mysweetmurderina]

SERIAL KILLER INFORMATION MASTERLIST

A

RODNEY ALCALA SUMMARY

B

VELMA BARFIELD SUMMARY

MARY BELL SUMMARY

DAVID BERKOWITZ SUMMARY

KENNETH BIANCHI SUMMARY

WILLIAM BONIN SUMMARY

IAN BRADY SUMMARY

JERRY BRUDOS SUMMARY

TED BUNDY SUMMARY

C

RICHARD CHASE SUMMARY

ANDREI CHIKATILO SUMMARY

DEAN CORLL SUMMARY

CHARLES CULLEN SUMMARY

D

JEFFREY DAHMER SUMMARY

ALBERT DESALVO SUMMARY

E

F

LONNIE DAVID FRANKLIN JR SUMMARY

G

JOHN WAYNE GACY SUMMARY

ED GEIN SUMMARY

H

ROBERT HANSON SUMMARY

DONALD HARVEY SUMMARY

MYRA HINDLEY SUMMARY

H.H. HOLMES SUMMARY

I

J

K

PATRICK KEARNEY SUMMARY

ED KEMPER SUMMARY

RANDY KRAFT SUMMARY

L

DERRICK TODD LEE SUMMARY

PEDRO LOPEZ SUMMARY

HENRY LEE LUCAS SUMMARY

M

PATRICK MACKAY SUMMARY

CHARLES MANSON SUMMARY

IVAN MILAT SUMMARY

N

DENNIS NILSEN SUMMARY

O

P

ANDRAS PANDY SUMMARY

CARL PANZRAM SUMMARY

ROBERT PICKTON SUMMARY

STEPHEN PORT SUMMARY

DOROTHEEA PUENTE SUMMARY

Q

R

DENNIS RADER SUMMARY

RICHARD RAMIREZ SUMMARY

GARY RIDGWAY SUMMARY

S

ARTHUR SHAWCROSS SUMMARY

HAROLD SHIPMAN SUMMARY

PETER SUTCLIFFE SUMMARY

T

OTTIS TOOLE SUMMARY

U

V

W

WAYNE WILLIAMS SUMMARY

AILEEN WUORNOS SUMMARY

X

Y

Z

[every-character-ever-poll]

WEEK ONE ENTRIES

Thank you all for your entries so far! Here is our current lineup, in chronological order of submission, along with their fandoms (according to the submitter). I have placed it under a cut, as the list is... much longer that I thought it would be when bulleted.

The polls will begin being posted on Sunday the 16th of July, and be regularly scheduled after that until this week's group has finished. "Weeks" will start on Sunday because that's the day my laptop calendar considers the beginning of the week.

Elias Bouchard - The Magnus Archives Podcast

Barren from the Baronies - Fantasy High (Dimension 20)

Philza Minecraft - The Dream SMP/Quackity SMP/Origins SMP

Jo Chastain - In Her Skin

Kaidou Shun - The Disasterous Life of Saiki K.

Jill Valentine - The Resident Evil game series

Edward Teach - Our Flag Means Death

Stede Bonnet - Our Flag Means Death

Karkat Vantas - Homestuck

Dave Strider - Homestuck

Donatello - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (specifically, Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)

Susie - Deltarune

Koichi Haimawari - MHA Vigilantes

Dark Pit - Kid Icarus Uprising

My Melody - Sanrio

Alfur - Hilda

Kass - Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Labrys - Persona 4 (specifically, Persona 4 Arena)

Rinzler - Tron

Mitzi Mozzarella - The Rock-Afire Explosion (Showbiz Pizza Place)

Corvo Attano - Dishonoured

Kevin - SynthV

The Outsider - Dishonoured as well

Miyamoto Usagi - Usagi Yojimbo

Tomoe Ame - Usagi Yojimbo

Cassandra - Tangled: The Series

Shu Kurenai - Beyblade Burst

Stanford Pines - Gravity Falls

Vinnie Dakota - Milo Murphy's Law

C!Wilbur - The Dream SMP

Adam - Hunt Down the Freeman

Ukiyo Ace/Kamen Rider Geats - Kamen Rider Geats

Eremiel - Beyond the End

C!slimecicle - The Dream SMP

Tubbo_ - The Dream SMP

Hong Lu - Limbus Company

Joe Hills - Hermitcraft

Haruto Keats - 86

Lynnette Tarkington - The Final Girl Support Group

Dana Scully - The X-Files

Lalnable Hector - Yogscast Minecraft RP

Natural Harmonia Gropius - Pokémon: Black and White

Eric "Cat" Chant - Chrestomanci

Red - Pokémon

Alice - Alice

Evil Magician Trent - Xanth

Tannim - SERRAted Edge

Killashandra Ree - Crystal Singer

Kim Dokja - Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint

Ed'Rashtekaresket - Young Wizards

Shana - Elvenbane/Halfblood Chronicles

Sayaka Miki - Puella Magi Madoka Magica

Kirio Ami - Welcome to Demon School, Iruma!

Accelerator - A Certain Magical Index

Chara - Undertale

Shadow the Hedgehog - Sonic the Hedgehog franchise

Moon Knight - Marvel Comics

Scaramouche (Wanderer) - Genshin Impact

Donato Porpora - Tokyo Ghoul

Solf J Kimblee - Fullmetal Alchemist

Ness - Earthbound

Kelsier - Mistborn

Nayc - The Smile Alchemist

Raoden - Elantris

Honjo Rika - Tenkuu Shinpan

Juo - Tenkuu Shinpan

Arkady Patel - The Strange Case of Starship Iris

Bain - PAYDAY: The Heist and PAYDAY: 2

The Fool/Beloved - Realm of the Elderlings

GLaDOS - Portal series

The Knight/Ghost - Hollow Knight

The Hollow Knight - Hollow Knight

Hornet - Hollow Knight

Xion - Kingdom Hearts

Dennis Reynolds - It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

Zara - Disney Princess Enchanted Journey

Alistair Ash - Fantasy High (Dimension 20)

Phone Guy - Five Nights at Freddy’s

Anna Kwemto - Five Nights at Freddy AR: Special Delivery

Cure Lovely - Happiness Charge Precure

Kaz "Dirtyhands" Brekker - Six of Crows

Fubuki Clockford - Master Detectives Archive: RAIN CODE

Oliver Beebo - Detective Beebo

Leafy - Battle for Dream Island

[the-indie-owl]

SpongeBob SquarePants Shipping Chart (FEEL FREE TO USE)

MAJOR UPDATE (10/14/2023): Added More Characters from the Musical

For the record, I've decided to create my own official blank shipping chart of one of my Fandoms for the very first time (since there isn't much SB Shipping Charts all over online so I created my own).

I've created Two Versions in case for Half of the Fandom's POV on the Two King Neptune characters (rather if you believe they are the same Character or Not).

Here are the Two Links for Full Versions in case to use for the Better Quality.

In case if you are confused of what each of the Ship Terms for what each of the Color represents...

❤️ = OTP (A Ship that You Love so Much and it is your own Main Favorite One out of all of the Other Ships) 🧡 = Platonic (A Ship that you prefer to be more than just Personal Friends rather than a Couple) 💖 = Crack (A Kind of Ship that is meant to be either Bizarre or Funny as in a Joke) 🩷= Love (A Ship that you also Adore but not that much of a Main Favorite) 💛= Like (A Ship that you do Enjoy but rather in a More "Causal" way to say the least) 💚= Neutral (A Ship that you have Mixed Feelings or Indifferent with) 🩵= Ok (A Ship that you're completely Fine with, but don't have any strong feelings towards it) 💜= Meh (A Ship that you just don't completely care nor pay any attention to) 💙= Dislike (A Ship that you just don't agree with or just not a personal fan of, if you don't have any too much Hate of it) 💙= Hate (A Ship that you just CAN'T STAND no matter how much that you despise) 🖤= Crash and Burn (A NOTOP that you Hate so much and is your own Main DEPISE One out of all the Other Ships)

Bonus Option: 💗= Ship with OC (A Character that you personally prefer to ship with Any of Your Own Persona/Mutuals' OC) 💚= Ship in Crossover (An X-Over Ship that you prefer to ship with Any Canon Character in the Franchise with a Different Character from Another Media) 🟤= Stay Single (A Character that you don't have enough ships and would just leave the Character to be Single without being shipped with anyone)

Characters in the Chart:

(Main Show)

SpongeBob SquarePants

Patrick Star

Gary The Snail

Sheldon J. Plankton

Squidward Tentacles

Sandy Cheeks

Mr. Krabs

Pearl Krabs

Karen

Mrs. Puff

Mermaid Man

Barnacle Boy

Larry The Lobster

The Flying Dutchman

Man Ray

Dirty Bubble

King Neptune

Queen Amphitrite

Prince Triton

Squidabeth

Barry Blobfish

Nosferatu

Slappy Laszlo

Slippy

Squidina Star

Chip Plankton

Tony 

Squilliam Fancyson

Squilvia

Patchy The Pirate

Spot

Snellie

Kenny The Cat

Perch Perkins

Bubble Bass

Old Man Jenkins

Kevin C. Cucumber

Flats The Flounder

Lady Upturn

Stanley SquarePants

Sam Star

Flapjack SquarePants

Bubble Buddy

Rube Goldfish

Gale Doppler

Plankrab

Charlton Hawkfish

Boat Salesman Shark

Hieronymus Glove

Karen 2.0.

Nurse Bazooka

Lord Poltergeist

DoodleBob

Don Grouper

Sticky Fins Whiting

Dorsal Dan

Dylan

Fred

Tom

Archie

Harry

Francis

John

Nancy Suzy Fish

Nazz Mimi

Tina Fran

Henry Bart

Franco

Sheila

Vera Fishbowl

Medley Fishbowl

Evelyn

Mevis

Buddy

Perry

Horace

Sheldon

Halbert

Jennifer Millie

Charlie

Frank The Goldfish

Jimmy Gus

Phil

Molly

Clay

Don The Whale

Harold (Red Fish)

Gus

Martin/Wobbles

Scooter

Lou

Harold "Bill" Reginald

Nat

Shubie

Dave

Sadie

Abigail Marge

Patty Rechid

Norma Rechid

Nathiel

Martha Smith

Thaddeus

Billy Lime

Harv

Frank (Lifeguard Guy)

Lloyd-Rich

Cara

Paco

Sylvester

Mabel

Old Man Walker

Lonnie

Mary

Sandals

Dennis

Miss Shell

Norma Edna

Debbie

Frank

Pilar 

Frankie Billy

Dale

Lenny

Mable-Monica

Purple Doctorfish

Norton

Richard

(Movies)

-1st Movie, "The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie"

Princess Mindy

Dennis

- 2nd Movie, "Sponge Out of Water"

Burger Beard

-3rd Movie, "Sponge On The Run"

King Poseidon

Queen Salacia (For those who don't know, in Roman Legends, Salacia was the Goddess of the Sea as well as the Actual Wife of Neptune (her Counterpart was Amphitrite, a Greek Goddess who was Poseidon's Wife). However, considering that the Franchise has secretly done an Alternate "Wife Swap" idea between the Consorts of the Greek/Roman Sea Gods, Salacia did appear in a Cameo of the Third Movie, regarding if it could be truly her or not. There was also a Semi-Design of Her through Concept Arts behind the Third Movie that I did found through ArtStation by 3D Developer (Michael Defeo). For those who are curious to know about the concept design behind King Poseidon's Wife in SB, here's the link that you can click on.)

Sage

Otto

Chancellor

Tiffany Haddock

(Spin-Offs)

-Kamp Koral

Narlene Narwhal

Nobby Narwhal

Kidferatu

Preda Tory

Roxy

Jimmy Blobfish

-The Patrick Star Show

Ouchie

(Musical)

Mrs. Mayor

Merlina Mermaid

Entity Punkfish

Goldfish

Fred Blutang

Bubbles

Bitsey

The Eletric Skates

(Other Media)

- Games 

Prawn ("Battle for Bikini Bottom")

Madame Kassandra ("The Cosmic Shake")

- Books

Princess Neptuna ("SpongeBob and the Princess")

Feel free to use if you like to use any version you want, either if you'd want to credit me or link my own charts in the descriptions/texts.