#Chance To Win A Command Gaming Center

[sarahs-secrets2]

Pull Me In (Phillip Graves x Reader) 18+࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ

This picture of Graves makes me laugh so hard lmfaodkfskdfjs, also I'm adding fem biased to how the fic is written because despite me not using any direct pronouns (she/her) I do realize how these read, so I will be going back and changing my fics to have this adjustment 💝

Loosely based on Satellite by Harry Styles

gn! fem biased (no use of Y/N)

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: lowkey nsfw, sexual tension, swearing, pet names, pining, mentions of alcohol, fluff, and even lowkey angst, OOC (for the plot), the functions of the pool scene may not be entirely accurate but who cares it's hot!!!!!, CUE IS THE STICK USED TO HIT THE BALLS IN A POOL GAME FYI

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

“You free this weekend?” the Commander nudged your elbow as you packed up your bag heading out of the training unit at the Shadows base. 

“No, I think I have some stuff going on,” you shrugged. Phillip Graves was a great Commander, always attentive and checking in with his team, but especially with you. Over time you had noticed the extra attention you had been getting from Phillip, it had become overwhelmingly obvious. You would have to be blind to not notice what he was doing, so instead of leaning into it, you had more fun acting oblivious to his advances. Something about teasing the Commander made it all the more fun. You would also be dumb if you didn't admit how attractive you found Phillip Graves. From his gorgeous face to the way he refused to give up on trying to win you over, you had fallen quite hard, but it wasn't that easy, especially when he was your commanding officer, and especially since you didn't do relationships. 

“That’s a shame, lot of us are going to a new bar, was hoping you would join us,” Graves was walking closely beside you down the halls of the base, you were well aware of what he was doing. He just wanted an excuse to be closer to you, he would lean as you spoke back as if he couldn't hear and the only solution was being inches away from your face. 

“Maybe I’ll stop by, who else will be there?”, you teased back, hoping to get a rise out of Phillip.

“Well, everyone at this point except you darlin’” he laughed to hide how embarrassed he felt. He had lost count of how many months he had spent trying to get your attention. Graves was usually quite confident and self-assured but around you, something changed. He had lost his footing trying to impress you and now he didn't care how desperate he looked. Phillip just wanted one chance. 

The other Shadows noticed the Commander's new behaviors towards you, which you were still acting oblivious to, you enjoyed stringing him along. They began making fun of Phillip for his failed attempts and how out of his element you made him, the once smooth-talking southern boy was tripping on his words as he chased you down the halls. He had learned to tune out the noise to focus on you.

Phillip walked into the bar shocked when he heard your laughter breaking through the chatter. You were playing darts with some Shadows, smiling at your almost bullseye. Graves didn't know how to feel, he was happy to see you but jealousy was bubbling up inside of him due to the fact that he wasn't the one with you. Making his way through the crowded bar he grabbed a beer from the bartender and then headed to join you as you played darts. 

“Hey, you're late Phillip”, you smiled at him, teasing the Commander who had begged you to come out tonight only to be the one who everyone was waiting on. 

“Well, I’m here now aren't I?” he snuck his arm around your waist as he pulled you in for a side hug, you rested your head on his shoulder while you hugged him back slightly. Phillip sighed when you pulled away, already missing your touch. 

“So-” you faced the group, “Who is going to teach me to play pool?” motioning to the table in the center of the bar.

“I think the Commander should handle that one,” a newer Shadow laughed.

“Whaddya say, Graves, you up for it?”, you watched as Phillip sipped his beer, looking at you above the glass as he slightly raised his eyebrows in amusement. 

“Anything for you doll,” a laugh escaped his lips, as you took his hand dragging him through the crowd to the pool table

Phillip set his beer down and grabbed two cues, handing you one. Meanwhile, you adjusted the balls in the middle of the table making sure they were centered. You removed the triangle that kept the balls in one place, setting it on a side table.

“How’d I do?” you motioned at the setup hoping it looked alright.

“I think it looks great, go ‘head, you first,” Phillip took a step back allowing you to take the first shot. You leaned down placing the cue making sure it sat in between your index finger and thumb, slowly pulling the cue back before releasing it. Instead of hitting the white ball, the cue skipped missing it completely. 

“Shit, that’s embarrassing,” laughing as you leaned against the table.

“Come ‘ere, I’ll show ya how to do it,” Graves walked over behind you, “Okay act like you're gonna hit the ball,” he waited as you leaned down, bending over the pool table.

“Now what?” you turned your head back slightly, catching Phillip as his eyes raked over you, “Eyes up here, Commander,” you laughed, throwing him a wink. 

“Alright if I reposition you darlin’?” you nodded giving him permission to move you however he needed to. His hands connected to your waist, slowly pulling your hips back until your ass was grazing his belt buckle. He then took one hand and placed it onto your back, pushing it down until your stomach was just barely touching the pool table. Graves then wrapped an arm around you, guiding your hands onto the cue stick. 

Phillip tilted his head down slightly to whisper in your ear, “Just like that doll, pull the cue back,” you followed the instructions trying to maintain focus as he continued to hover over you, “Release whenever you’re ready”, your breath hitched as you released the cue, this time hitting the white ball perfectly breaking the balls that sat in the middle of the table. 

Instead of moving from your position with the Commander, you shifted your hips that remained pressed into his jeans. Slowly turning your head to look back at him, “How was that?”, your eyes slightly hooded as made eye contact.

Graves’ hands moved from your arms to your waist as he guided you to stand up straight, now facing him. He leaned in slightly so you were sure to hear him, “Better than I could've imagined darlin’”, the smirk on his face showed you that he was well aware of what the both of you were doing, and it wasn't a game anymore. 

“You gonna take your turn cowboy?”

“Well,” he let out a sigh, “not sure if I’m interested in the game anymore, I’d rather just talk with you”

“That so, Graves?”, he chuckled at your teasing. His hands still rested on your waist, lightly pushing you up against the pool table. “And, where did you want to talk to me?” 

“I would say this bar is a bit too crowded for a good conversation, you agree?”, you nodded in response, “So I was thinking we can go back to base maybe, that sound good?”

“I must be special if the Commander wants to talk with me!” you gave Phillip a toothy grin as you played dumb on why the pair of you were going back to his. Instead of giving him a chance to respond you grabbed his hand dragging him through the bar again, and out the front door. 

Luckily neither of you had finished your drinks so you were both safe to drive, Philip being a gentleman offered to be the one to do so. The two of you were now in his pickup truck heading back to the base, the radio was quiet and his hand rested lightly on your inner thigh.

“Can I ask you somethin’?”, Graves turned down the radio to almost silent now. 

“Mhm?”

“What changed?”, he looked over at you quickly before returning his attention back to the road. 

“You mean with us?”

“Yeah, you’re smart, you know what I've been doin’ darlin’,” he laughed to himself, recalling the months of pining after you. 

“I’ve always liked you, Phil, I just can’t imagine dating the Commander, let alone dating,” your hand now resting on the nape of his neck, you looked over at him as he drove, lightly scratching his hair with your nails. 

“Not your thing? Dating?”

“Easiest way not to get hurt,” with your free hand, you lightly tapped on your temple.

The truck finally pulled into the base, Phillip looking over at you now, “I wouldn't dream of hurtin’ you doll, you know that?” 

“Doesn't everyone say that?” you gave him a sad smile.

“I mean it, I can see you’re lonely”, Graves taking your hand in his as he lightly stroked your thumb, before placing a small kiss on the back of your hand. He didn't give you a chance to respond before he hopped out of the truck, moving to the passenger side to open your door, giving you his hand to help you out. 

The pair of you walked back through the Shadows’ base closely next to each other, this time you reciprocated the feeling of wanting to be near Phillip. His hand snuck around your shoulder, pulling you closer, your head rested on his shoulder, just like how it had earlier in the night. This time you didn't pull away. 

Phillip stopped in the hallway abruptly, turning you to face him, “I'm right here, I've been waitin’ for ya to pull me in doll, just say it, and I'm all yours,”

“I don't do relationships, Graves”, your eyes drifting to the ground. 

“How about you give it a chance? Think it over for me, and then decide”, a small smile crept onto his face as he pulled you in for a hug, placing a small kiss on the top of your head. 

“Give me a day or two, yeah?” you looked up at him before breaking the hug, patting his chest before walking away, Phillip stood now alone in the hallway hoping he wouldn't be stuck waiting forever.

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

Disclaimer not proofread! if you see something pls lmkk

Thank you all for bearing with me this weekend it was a bit crazy for me, I hope you all enjoyed this :)))

[rubyreduji]

eat your young | the before pt 3

tags: hunger games!au, fake dating!au, kinda fluff warnings: mentions of death and killing in accordance with the hunger games wc: 4.0k an: actual plot is finally starting to pick up yay!

m.list

“Interview training day!” Jennie enters the dining room, even more peppy than usual. “Are you two ready for a wonderful day with me?”

You don’t even try and hide your disdain at the idea.

“You will also have time with your mentors as well. I’m sure Momo will-”

“Actually,” Soonyoung cuts in, “I’d like to oversee Y/N’s interview training.”

Now that’s something that interests you. Especially after your conversation with him and the other mentors that you had yesterday.

“Soonyoung…” Jihoon warns, but Soonyoung brushes him off.

“Jennie, you can start with Jihoon and have Y/N in the afternoon,” Soonyoung continues on. You raise an eyebrow at him. That has to be good as you’ve never seen Soonyoung be commanding once in his life. Jennie looks taken aback by this as well but Soonyoung doesn’t get a chance for her to talk as he leaves the room, gesturing for you to follow and you’re too interested to not follow.

Soonyoung leads you into an empty sitting room inside the Training Center.

“So, do you have any ideas on what your approach to your interviews is gonna be?”

You turn towards Soonyoung. “You actually want to talk about my interview? I thought you wanted to talk for another reason.”

Soonyoung looks sheepish at you calling him out. “Aish, you’re not wrong. I just wanted to ease into it more.”

“This is about Jihoon, isn’t it?”

“Yes and no. I just wanted to talk to you before you, you know.”

“Die?”

“I was gonna say enter the arena,” Soonyoung corrects you.

“It means the same thing, one just sugarcoats it more than the other, and I don’t mess with bullshit like that Soonyoung, you know that.”

“I wanted to apologize,” Soonyoung moves on, ignoring your words. “For what you heard me saying about you yesterday. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right. I don’t wish ill will to anyone, especially my tributes, which you are. I’ve been acting like Jihoon is the only person I have to look out for in this situation, but you’re from District 7 too and I have a duty as a mentor to train and help you as well.”

“Don’t bother Soonyoung,” you tell him. “I don’t care what kind of personal guilt you have but you said what you meant and that’s that. I’m not mad at you, I’d honestly be more mad at you if you didn’t care about Jihoon more than me. He’s your best friend. Not to mention I know Jihoon needs all the help he can get.”

“Is that why you told us to look after him more than you?”

“I told you that because I want Jihoon to win. Oh why do you look so scandalized by that, you want him to win too.”

“I mean, yeah, but…why don’t you want yourself to win?”

“I have my reasons and I don’t have to share them with you.”

“Do Jooheon and Momo know?”

“No, nobody does.” That’s a lie. Jihoon does. But you’re not going to tell Soonyoung that. “All that you need to know is that while you’re keeping Jihoon safe out here, I’ll be keeping him safe in there. Don’t think of me as one of your tributes, think of me as another person helping Jihoon win.”

“You know you don’t have to do this. I don’t know what your reasons are but you can play your own game. I want Jihoon to win, trust me I do, but you shouldn’t be giving up your own game in favor of him.”

“Jihoon already tried to talk me out of it, but it didn’t work, and he has a hell of a lot more chance of convincing me to do anything than you do. I’ve already decided last two people standing in that arena are going to be me and him, and he’ll be the final one to come out.”

“Do you have feelings for Jihoon?”

“Excuse me?”  You feel your face heat up.

“I’m just trying to reason why someone like you would want to help Jihoon win.”

“‘Someone like me’ what does that mean?”

“It means that you could win this whole thing, but you’re letting Jihoon win instead. Do you have the hots for him or something?”

“Stop saying stupid stuff like that,” you hiss. “I…don’t like Jihoon.”

“You’re getting defensive.”

You glare at Soonyoung. “Even if I did have feelings for Jihoon, which I don’t, that’s not the reason why I want him to win. Just drop it Kwon.”

You don’t have feelings for Jihoon…but you don’t not have feelings for him. It’s stupid, especially since you don’t know him well and you two are about to be thrown into a killing game within two days, but it’s not like you can help it.

You think Jihoon is admirable, and kind of cute. It doesn’t matter though. The only thing that matters right now is being able to get Jihoon out of the arena alive.

“Now that that’s out of the way, can you actually help me with my interview? I need as many sponsors as I can get if we want Jihoon to win this thing.”

“Yeah about that…my interview actually didn’t go so well…”

“Is that why you hate Boo Seungkwan?”

“Yes! He’s a terrible person and he did nothing, NOTHING to help me out. It was humiliating!” Soonyoung cries.

Back when you were just a viewer of the Hunger Games you were never big on watching things like interviews or opening ceremonies as they were target more towards the Capitol citizens than the districts. Even if you did watch the interviews, you rarely remember what is said in them.

“Have you ever considered…it was just you who was the problem?”

Soonyoung gasps. “How dare you? I was being perfect and charming as always, but he made a fool out of me in front of the Capitol.”

“But you still won.”

“That’s besides the point.”

“So, you’re not going to help me? Because if not, I’m just going to go find Momo.”

“Yeah, it may be best if you do that.”

Jihoon is sweating bullets.

“You’re going to do great Jihoon-ah. You’re already so cute, use it as an advantage when charming the crowd,” Junhui tells Jihoon as he gets dressed. The older man has styled Jihoon in a brown suit tonight with green leaves embroidered into the suit.

Jihoon tries to remember all of the pointers the Jennie and Momo gave him earlier, but they’re all starting to muddle the more Jihoon thinks about them.

Be humble. Be emotional. Be innocent.

Junhui leads Jihoon to the waiting area where the tributes are being lined up in district order to wait for their turn for their interview. You’re already there, speaking to Minghao in a hushed tone. Jihoon has to take a moment to take in your beauty.

Jihoon’s eyes trace over the golden branches that accent your outfit and when you turn to face Jihoon he notices you have gold eyeliner around your eyes to match.

Jihoon still has no clue what you and Soonyoung talked about earlier, but he does know that your advising session with Jennie went…less than exemplary. Jihoon doesn’t exactly blame you for that one though, as he wasn’t quite comfortable with that Jennie was asking of him either.

Jihoon is ushered into his spot in front of you in line and soon after the interviews start. Jihoon can barely pay attention to everyone going in front of him, too worried about his own interview to care. It isn’t until you nudge him in the back that Jihoon realizes the second District 6 interview is almost over.

“Lee Jihoon,” one of the backstage people call his name and Jihoon jumps. Jihoon moves to the edge of the stage and he takes a deep breath.

It’ll be fine. Just be natural.

“Next up to the stage from District 7, Lee Jihoon!” At the call of his name Jihoon starts to walk onto stage. His legs feel like they’re moving through jelly as he walks. The roar of the crowd and the blinding lights distract him for a few seconds, before Boo Seungkwan’s voice is calling out to him.

“I’m sorry?” Jihoon looks over and Seungkwan laughs.

“I was just telling you don’t be afraid to sit down.” Seungkwan gestures to the chair that Jihoon is standing in front of.

“Oh.”

“Isn’t he just adorable?” Seungkwan turns to the audience who uproars in applause. “And we’re not the only ones who thinks so. You’ve caught the hearts of many with your reaping footage. Right away we were captivated by your adorable presence.”

“Oh, uhm, thank you?” Jihoon’s not sure how to respond to Seungkwan’s statements.

“Now a little birdie has told me that you’re a songwriter, is that true?” Now this is subject Jihoon can talk about.

“Yes, it is. I spend most of my time writing music. It’s one of my favorite things to do. I think music is so important to bringing joy to mundane lives.” The crowd awes at Jihoon.

“Well, isn’t that special. You know, song writing is a very…intimate process. Is there anyone who inspires your music?”

“Like…a significant other?”

“Yes! Exactly like that. I guess what I’m asking Jihoon is…are you dating anyone?” Good. Seungkwan went down the exact path Jihoon was hoping to.

“Make up a story,” Momo told him yesterday. “Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, just make yourself the sole focus of their attention. You evoke so much emotion in them that they can’t root for anyone but you.”

“Well…there may be someone. It’s fairly new, only about a month or so, but I’ve been…really happy with them.” Jihoon tries to put all of his (minimal) acting knowledge into this performance.

“Then I’m sure you’ll be fighting to get back to them, won’t you?”

“Not exactly Seungkwan.”

“Oh? Why not?” Seungkwan leans in, like he’s fully invested in what Jihoon has to say.

“Well because, they’re here with me.” The crowd and Seungkwan both gasp and Jihoon hopes that you’re not going to kill him after this.

“Do you know what your approach for tomorrow is?” You asked him last night.

“No,” Jihoon lied. “Do you?”

“No, but I’m sure Jennie will kill me if I come off as even a smidgen of intimidating.”

“Wait, wait, are you saying that…your district partner is your romantic partner as well?” Everyone in the room is captivated, exactly like how Jihoon hoped.

“Yes I am.”

“I- we have run out of time for you interview Jihoon,” the crowd boos, “but fortunately up next we will be talking to your partner. So, let’s her it for Lee Jihoon!” The audience goes wild and Jihoon can feel himself shaking as he walks off the stage.

Shit, shit, shit, what did he just do?

Soonyoung looks like he’s about to jump Jihoon but Jihoon can’t bother to deal with Soonyoung right now, his eyes plastered to the monitor screen as you walk on.

“L/N Y/N! What a joy to have you on my stage tonight. So, Lee Jihoon, huh?”

“What a guy, am I right?” You have a smile playing at the corner of your lips and someone in the audience gives a small whoop.

“What was going through your head during your reaping? I remember you looking quite…constipated.” Seungkwan laughs and you give him a pity laugh back.

“Well, Jihoon and I had a conversation a few days before the reaping about everything. I told him that if I get reaped, that I’ll do my best to get back to him, and if he got reaped, I’d volunteer for him. You’d imagine my horror when we both got pulled.” Jihoon is amazed by how you were able to think of that on the spot. He was expecting you to be a bit more shaken.

“Oh, I’m sure. That truly is a travesty. But what a promise, I mean, offering to volunteer for him? You must love your boyfriend very much.”

“The feelings I have for him are…immeasurable.” There’s a softness to your tone as you say the words and you almost have Jihoon believing what you’re saying is true.

“That is adorable. Now, not to get depressing or anything, but both of you can’t win the games.” The crowd boos. Seungkwan gives them an empathizing look. “So what are you plans for going forward?”

“Well, I vowed to Jihoon that I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure he gets back home. That will be my final gift to the world. The gift of Lee Jihoon.”

The whole audience coos at you, but your face is completely serious. That is one thing that Jihoon knows you’re not making up.

“That’s a very…chivalrous act, Y/N.”

“Anything for my Ji.”

“So, would you consider yourself someone fit to be able to win the games? Or, in your case, help someone else win?”

“Yes Seungkwan, I would. I mean, look at me.” You flex an arm real quick and the crowd goes wild at the sight. “I’ve been swinging an axe since I could walk. I can make a fire and find water. Jihoon is truly in safe hands.”

“It seems Jihoon has good taste.” Seungkwan winks at you.

You smile softly. “I’d like to think we both have good taste.”

The crowd screams again. “Thank you for your time, Y/N, it was truly my pleasure. Everyone give up for L/N Y/N from District 7!”

The crowd is still in an uproar by the time you make it backstage. Jihoon’s nervous. Are you going to attack him? Yell at him? He deserves it, no matter what it is. Even though you were able to work on the fly out there, he still sprung it on you and that’s not fair.

“Y/N-”

“Let’s get out of here,” you say before walking off. The trip back to the 7th floor of the Training Center is quiet and Jihoon’s nerves grow worse and worse the longer the silence goes on.

Once everyone steps off the elevator the mentors shuffle around awkwardly before Jooheon says, “I’ll leave you two to discuss this.” Everyone quickly makes their leave while you stand there in silence.

Once they’re gone you move towards Jihoon and he braces himself for you to smack him, but instead he’s being pushed up against the wall. You lean down, your mouth brushing against Jihoon’s ear. “You know Jihoon-ah, you could have just told me you have a crush on me. You didn’t have to pretend to be my boyfriend on live television, but it was quite the proposal.”

Jihoon feels his whole body heat up. “No I-, uhm, I-”

You pull away from Jihoon, laughing as you do. It’s the happiest Jihoon has seen from you since your name was reaped. “I’m pulling your leg, Jihoon. You should have told me though, really made me think on my feet there.”

Jihoon is still pressed up against the wall as he stares at you incredulously. What just happened?

It takes Jihoon a little too long to recuperate before responding. “I’m sorry Y/N-ah, please forgive me. You’re right, I should have told you.”

“You know, I wasn’t lying out there,” you say to him. “I’m going to do everything I can to get you home.”

Jihoon sighs. “Yeah, I know.”

“Well, I guess now that all of Panem thinks we’re dating, we’ll have to act the part.”

“I’ve never dated anyone before…” Jihoon admits.

“It’ll be easy. Just be…cute together? I don’t think anyone will call us out for not being all lovey when we’re literally fighting for our lives,” you say. “In all honesty though, good call on that move. It was smart.”

“Uhm, thanks.” Jihoon is so relieved you’re not upset about it. He finally did something right to help both you and him out.

“Oh my god,” you groan suddenly. “Josh is gonna be so confused.”

Jihoon is suddenly mortified. “Oh no, my whole family saw that.”

“Don’t worry Jihoon, I’m sure you can explain it to them when you get back home.”

Yeah…maybe Jihoon could.

You can’t sleep. Why could you? You’re about to be fighting for you life in less than twelve hours. There’s not much you can do about anything anymore though. The plan is set, all that’s left to do is wait.

“When the games start, run in the direction of where the mouth of the Cornucopia faces,” you told Jihoon earlier.

“What about you? Aren’t you gonna be running too?” You didn’t respond and Jihoon frowned at you. “Don’t tell me…”

“We need supplies. I’m the most capable out of our group to go in, get what we need, and get out. You have to trust me on this. Jihoon, do you trust me?” You bored your eyes into his soul, staring him down. Jihoon shifted around in his seat for a moment before sighing and nodding slightly.

“I trust you.”

“Good. Make sure the other two are with you and wait for me to come find you guys. If you run into trouble try to lose them before circling back to a place where we can meet up.”

You think about the events of this evening and how you now have a boyfriend. You were…shocked, to say the least, when you hear the words come out of Jihoon’s mouth. You didn’t get it at first. Was he making fun of you? But then Seungkwan kept talking and you understood. It was a tactic.

All of the mentors seemed shocked as well, so you guess that was an all Jihoon choice. You’re not mad at it. If anything it’s going to help you and Jihoon out loads. You’re just worried about every other factor of going into the arena.

One thing that you’ve been worried about, that you haven’t voiced to anyone yet, is allies. Seokmin and Wonwoo are both good people, you like them, but the hard truth is that they’re going to have to die in order to get Jihoon home. You just hope you won’t have to kill them yourself.

“Y/N, go to bed.” You look to see Soonyoung standing next to you.

“I could say the same to you.”

“I’m not the one going into the arena tomorrow.”

“No, not this time,” you say, without really meaning to. Soonyoung just chuckles.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you for that.”

You turn to look at Soonyoung. “For what?”

“For helping me win my games. If it wasn’t for you and your makeshift training I probably would have been toast out there.” Soonyoung was one of the winners who won by out surviving the arena, rather than the people.

Soonyoung knows how to use an axe, just not as well as you do, so he was able to make by. The careers, while they’re very physically powered, they’re not taught survival skills, so when Soonyoung was able to make a fire and find shelter, they had to rely on what they had on the Cornucopia. With Soonyoung’s games though, he was also lucky that the careers eventually took each other out after one too many disagreements.

“I also should thank you for helping Jihoon win his games as well. I know I won’t be able to thank you when Jihoon does win so, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” you tell him. “Just do your end of the job and we’ll be even.”

“So…you and Jihoon are ‘dating’.” There’s a sly grin on Soonyoung’s face and you have to restrain yourself from smacking him.

“Oh, shut up. If you want to hear all about it, ask your best friend,” you huff.

“I’m just messing with you. I’m not joking about going to bed though. I was going to say you have a long day ahead of you, but let’s be honest you have a long week ahead of you.”

“I know. I’ll try again soon, I promise.”

“Promise me one more thing?” You’re expecting him to say something about Jihoon, but he doesn’t. “Take care of yourself as well, yeah? I know your new focus is on Jihoon, but you’re important too.” That’s all Soonyoung says before leaving.

Unfortunately for Soonyoung, his words keep you up the whole night.

You’re still sitting in the living room when everyone else starts to wake up.

You’re swept away by Minghao before you even set your eyes on Jihoon, or your mentors for that matter. The hovercraft comes to pick you and Minghao up. You try not to wince when the tracker is placed in your arm. You’re then guided to a table with an array of food laid out. Your own personal last meal.

“You should eat up,” Minghao says to you, in a gentle tone. You remember that this is his first-time styling for the games. You’re hist first tribute and you’ve already claimed you’re not coming out. He’s not like the other Capitol citizens either. He has humility.

Instead of saying anything to the older man you just start to eat your breakfast. Halfway through you get a lump in your throat but force yourself to keep eating. You’ll need the energy, especially since you didn’t get any sleep last night.

When you get to the Launch Room Minghao leaves you to take a shower and brush your teeth. You stand in front of the mirror, naked, as you stare at yourself. This may be the last look you get at yourself. Your eyes have small bags under them, and your skin looks smooth and clean from all of the Capitol products, but it’s still you.

Knock, knock, knock. You jump. “Y/N? Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” You open the door and Minghao hands you the clothes to get into.

Over your underwear you’re put in a skintight dark gray jumpsuit that covers your legs and arms. On top of the jumpsuit you’re given a thick belt, a dark green jacket, and lightweight black boots. You’re happy for the boots. They’re the first shoes you’ve put on since you’ve left District 7 that don’t hurt your feet.

“Don’t forget this.” In Minghao’s hand he holds out a beaded bracelet to you. You stare at it for a moment. It’s your district token that Joshua gave you before you left on the train. You nearly forget about it because it was taken from you to be inspected.

You gently take the bracelet in your hand. It’s Joshua’s ‘thing’ that he makes bracelets and sells them in the market. The beads can be hard to come by at times, but that never stops Joshua.

“Thank you,” you say in a soft voice. You slip it around your ankle before slipping your foot back into your boot. The bracelet will be safer tucked into your boot rather than on your wrist.

“All set?” There’s worry in Minghao’s eyes.

“All set,” you whisper to him.

“You’re going to do amazing out there.” Minghao reaches out to straighten your jacket, even though it doesn’t really matter. You let him do it though. Neither you nor Minghao address how this will be the last time he sees you.

“Tributes please report to your launch pad. Launching will commence in one minute.” You’re not expecting to hear the voice come over the intercom and your throat tightens up when you hear it. You force yourself to breathe. Everything is going to be okay. You just need to get through the bloodbath and find Jihoon and everything will be okay.

Minghao helps you step onto the plate and you turn to face him. Minghao leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead and you close your eyes and accept it.

“Thank you,” you tell him. You’re not sure what you’re thanking him for, but Minghao seems to understand.

With one final good luck from Minghao a tube comes down around you and your plate starts to lift into the arena. Hot air hits your skin and you can already see the sun shining down onto you. Your plate finally finishes rises up from the ground and you get your first look at the arena. As you look around at your surroundings there’s only one thought on your mind.

What the actual fuck?

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[clatoera]

Always Remember We’re Burned for Better Chapter 9: Everything Was Slipping Right Out of Our Hands

....hey.

So so sorry for yet another incredibly late update. I’m honestly drowning with school. I might end up having to push my boards back because I am simply not yet ready. Ya girl is STRESSED. 

As always, title from a Taylor Swift song --> Mine

AO3 Link

Masterpost

As always. BIG thank you to @ohhowwehavefallen who literally talks about Clato all day every day with me across multiple apps. @afterfawn who DIRECTLY gets credit for helping me with the training flashback, you’re brilliant my friend. And @ms1818 as usual. 

Thank you all SO much for your patience. I hope this was worth it.  (Only one more chapter until the quell how did we get here and can you believe the story was originally supposed to START at the quell? wild).

There are ten of them gathered in a board style room on the top floor of the District Two training center. There is an eerie energy amongst the ten surviving victors, as they gather around and commence the yearly confirmation of tributes.  This time though, instead of choosing the two teens who have given their lives to this honor, they choose from amongst their own ranks.

Five men. Five Women.

It was a pride of district two, to have ten living victors. Historically they had the most victors of any district in the entire history of the games, always in close competition with One but always inching out just ahead. There were more before these ten, who are no longer amongst the category of living victor.

Soon that number would be four and four. Four and Five if they are lucky.

“We need to discuss this. We could vote, as usual, after a round of performance.” ‘The discussion is initiated by one of the older Victors, back from the games right before the last Quarter Quell, Lyme. She has always been well respected– her opinion over tribute selection one of the most appreciated and revered. She had hand picked Enobaria in her childhood, as well as Clove’s mother. Ultimately she had even given her support and blessing behind Clove and Cato’s selection when they had been merely ten years old.

Crazy, really. Exactly ten years later and they were back where they began. Two well trained kids with weapons in their hands and no future with the other in it.

“Most of us are out of practice. We should send the youngest two. They just won. They’ve got the best chance. It’s a Quarter Quell, after all. A victor coming from two is an absolute must.” Comes from a male victor about the same age as Lyme. He had been the one who a decade ago directly suggested to Brutus to take on Cato as a trainee. He had been the one to see that same brutal force in them both.

“Those two.” He points towards the youngest of the victors, settled side by side, sandwiched between their own mentors on either side of them. “We picked them together and then split their games explicitly because we knew both would win. They’re the best choice.”

“It will be a vote. We just need to decide the parameters on which we decide.” Lyme insists, rising to stand at the head of the circular boardroom table, an ever commanding presence that just makes you listen and obey.

“I don’t know why we’re wasting time over parameters and a vote. It’s Cato and Clove. They’re the youngest. They’re the most recently out of training.” The middle aged man once again insists, crossing strong arms over his broad chest. There was a clear lineage from mentor to mentee from Him to Brutus to Cato himself.  “They’re the obvious choice.”

“They also have their entire lives ahead of them.” Enobaria, for all she composes herself, nearly snaps at the pool of victors. “That's exactly the point. They’re kids. Let them live their lives now. They have earned it, just as we all have.”

“We have families and ties to this district.” There’s a red headed woman Clove vaguely remembers from old clips. She had won a few years before Clove had been born, and was one of her mother’s mentors sixteen years ago. “I’m sorry, it’s very unfortunate that you are so young, but you have to understand. Some of us have families, we have entire lives built here.”

“Well we haven’t been given the chance to do that!” Clove is the one of the two who finally interjects, though without the fire that is so synonymous with the name Clove Kentwell. There is a power hierarchy, one that the newly minted victors have not yet earned their way into.

Even now, adult victors themselves, they were still thrown back to those good little soldiers they were raised to be.

And these, well, these were the victors who watched their training sessions.

Who voted for their selection.

Who taught them the proper technique for holding a sword and slipping out of a headlock.

They had been raised to revere them. Respect them.

That was part of training. You don’t argue with the decisions, you don’t question them. Especially not The Victors.

Even now a peer in this exclusive group– these were still The Victors they were taught to fear and revere.

“We aren’t being given the chance.” Clove doubles down, a softness in her voice that is so uncharacteristic of the strong spirited woman she is.. “I only won two years ago, Cato only three. We haven’t had the chance to do the things you all have..”

“I have a sister. I have parents. That's not family enough?” Cato adds, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table. “That's family enough in the eyes of the Capitol. A sister is plenty enough family for that girl from twelve.”

“You’re missing the point.” The redheaded woman interrupts, a sharp tone in her voice. Demanding. Controlling. “Yes, it’s sad, but one of you will get to come home and live out the rest of your lives. You just have to win.”

“You two trained together, your entire life, for this. What an honor it should be to get to represent your District a second time. To become the first two time victor in the history of the games.” The oldest male of the victors, a man probably in his sixties reminds them. “It is an honor to be chosen as the volunteers. You have such a unique opportunity to bring us so much pride.”

“Do we get a choice, or are you just going to talk over us?” Cato slams his fist on the table, demanding the attention of all the remaining victors. In another life the two of them would have become the leaders of this group in the future, demanding the respect of all those who came after.

“Maybe we should send the weakest. The oldest, with the least to offer the district anymore. Clove and I could always become trainers. That would be the way for us to bring pride to the district– ensuring future victors. I can’t say the same for some of you. Past your prime and clinging to glory days.”

Cato scoffs, shaking his head with a clenched jaw, bracing himself for the argument he has unleashed. “None of you want to go in because you know you don’t have a shot at winning. When it’s your fifteen years out of practice against Katniss Everdeen who can kill from twenty yards, you know you don’t have a chance.” There is rage in his voice, the kind that comes just before the outburst. The edge of warning that very few are even lucky enough to have. “You’re sacrificing us.”

“That is NOT the attitude of a Career Tribute.” The remaining male interjects. He had won in the years preceding Enobaria, but had never made much of an accolade for himself. He trained the spears lessons at the academy occasionally, but had been relatively low key in terms of life of a victor.

Clove absently remembers the tulips in his yard, which she ran past every morning on her run of shame back to the academy.  

No, maybe that was not the attitude of the teens who were told their whole lives that nothing was greater than winning the hunger games. But it is the attitude of two people who are being robbed of the joy that accomplishment was supposed to allow.

“We aren’t career tributes anymore.” Clove announces, whipping her head up to look at them. “We are victors. We are victors like the rest of you. We earned our place here. We aren’t potential tributes anymore.”

“You are. We all are.” The remaining woman, a girl about the same age Clove’s mother would be, announces. Distantly, Clove can remember her name being something stupid. Justice, maybe?

She reminds Clove of Glimmer, with her long blonde hair and high pitched voice, and for a moment Clove wonders if these conversations were being held in District One right now as well.  “I’m not going. I have a three year old, he needs his mother.”

“Yeah, well you let my mother go when she had a three year old who needed her mother, so I don’t see how this is any fucking different.” Clove snaps, hands grasping and releasing a pen in her hand before she risks letting it fly into the eye of the next victor to offer them up like sacrificial lambs. “Maybe fair is fucking fair.”

“It’s not our fault your mother died, Clove.”

“Who fucking chose her to go?” Funny, the same people who marched her mother to her death were now sending her.

“I for one think there should be skills involved.” Brutus levels, waving a hand in embellishment. “We should all present ourselves like we do to the game-makers.” He shoots a look to Cato, that anyone else would have missed, had it not been for the long standing relationship between the two. “See who is in the best place to go into these games.”

Cato gives the briefest of a nod, a single jerk of his head. Throw it. Throw the trial. Throw the trial and let someone else go prove their point.

“And who would vote? The academy children?” Lyme questions, raising a light eyebrow at the group. “Certainly not. We are their superiors.”

“They could. Let them decide. They’re well trained. They know what to look for.” One of the others agrees, before the eldest male once again shuts them down.

“We are going to vote. Right here. If there is a tie then we will hold such a competition. There's no need for all that fanfare if we can reach a majority without it.”

“And what if the winners refuse to volunteer.” Enobaria suggests, a sinister smile smirk on her face.. “There will be a reaping. There is no guarantee the chosen victors will volunteer. You can’t force someone to volunteer. That's not a volunteer.”

“They will volunteer. There will be grave consequences otherwise.” The statement from Brutus’ mentor is directly aimed at Cato and Clove, the decision all but understood. It would be them.

Pieces of paper are being distributed amongst them, and Cato and Clove share a knowing look. This is inevitable and will be discussed among the two of them the moment they are alone.

“We’ll do ladies first.” Lyme, their unofficial official leader, collects the slips of paper and reads them aloud. “Clove. Clove. Clove. Justice. Justice. Clove. Lyme. Justice. Clove. Clove.” She swallows and nods towards the youngest woman in the room, barely more than a girl. “Clove. Congratulations.”

She’s silent, flipping the market between her fingers like a knife, staring at the oak of the table. Her eyes are glazed over, jaw locked. She is numb, completely and totally numb, but she will not give them the satisfaction of seeing her falter. Of seeing her bend.

“The men.” Lyme flicks through the papers efficiently, lips pursed. “Cato. Cato. Cato. Cato. Cato. Cato. Six. A Majority. Congratulations” The other four are for the man who trained Brutus.

It is not hard to decipher exactly who voted against sending Cato and Clove back in.

Nor, who now signed their death warrant.

“Congratulations. Our District Two volunteers for the Quarter Quell. Cato Hadley and Clove Kentwell. We will clear out the training center, send the children home for the rest of the year, so the two of you may use it. Brutus..Enobaria. You will continue your roles as their mentors seeing as you were so successful the first time.” Lyme sighs, folding the papers back up and placing them in piles according to the vote. “What an honor.”

Cato doesn’t even care to look and offer a refute before he is pushing himself to stand. In doing so he flips the table in front of him, earning an alarmed jump from the other victors save for Enobaria and Brutus who expect nothing less. He is joined by the two of them, who also intend to leave in a rage before their internal thoughts become external violence beyond their repair.

He grabs Clove’s hand and tugs her to a standing position, tugging her towards the door.

“Fuck all of you.” Clove hisses, gladly pushing herself to her feet before following Cato out the door.

So much for victors standing with other victors.

They wonder, silently but in unison, if the other young victors– their friends, likely soon to be competition– would have so easily and willingly thrown them to the wolves.

-

Let it be said that despite the rage they feel at going back, they are nothing but dedicated to their craft.

An entire academy to themselves would have been an absolute dream back as teenagers, with tireless taunting and tearing into each other before laying each other out right in the middle of the training room floor.

Now of course, they had a home together to return to after long days of training rather than sneaking in and out of each other's dorm rooms. Some things change, but some never do, and the way they are firmly attached at the hip of the other has been the way it is for over a decade.

The reality of the entire situation is one they repress.

It’s a conversation for later, not as they actively train for their grand return to the games, this time as the partners they were always supposed to be.

Funny, ten years ago Clove and Cato would have given anything to go into the games together. Today, it’s a nightmare they do not allow themselves to dwell on too long.

They are still as dynamic as they ever were. She never misses, target after target hit straight through the heart. He wields a sword like an extension of his arm, showing no mercy to any of the training aids much in the way he never did to his competitors.

And still, they are an extension of each other. He can still anticipate her next move before she can, ducking just in time before a knife clips his temple. She can still remember the exact way his shoulder twinges before he lunges for her.

When Enobaria trains Clove how to disarm someone with an axe, Clove does not think too hard about the only option of a district seven female, or how that girl was at her undesired birthday party.

Brutus teaches Cato how to snap a trident over his knee, and they do not think too long about the only options from district four being Finnick, Annie, and some elderly woman for Finnick once spoke so fondly of.  

Clove is ready for the battle of precision and accuracy against the girl from twelve and her arrows. Two girls with deadly aim from a distance who would have to take out the other to have any semblance of a chance of coming home. Enobaria had mentioned in passing that the expectation was for it to come down to the two of them. Clove isn’t sure who will come out on top of that battle of wills.

At the end of the day, they cannot blame the other victors for choosing them. It’s self-preservation, which the Victors of Two had superior instincts in.

That does not make it any easier.

Every day is a painful monotony that is blended with blissful routine.

They wake up, tangled in a mess of sheets and skin.

Clove makes breakfast, with flavors and spices and everything training food should not have according to the academy.

They train, they train hard, miserable hours until their bodies ache. They train until she needs to be half-carried home from the exhaustion in her legs They train until he needs to shower for forty minutes to work out then tension in his back. They train until their teenage selves would be scared of them.

They train for twelve hours and then they walk home.

Clove refuses to regress to dinners of plain rice and perfectly measured proteins. Cato takes his forty minute showers and she enjoys making food that tastes good. Every night is a combination of favorites of his or hers or theirs. Life, their lives at least, are far too short to give up the simple treasures they have come to love.

Despite the exhaustion they barely sleep. They spend their nights alone together, nothing but skin between them until the sun comes up.

Sure, they need rest to recover, but once more, life for them is shaping up to be so terribly short.

They could sleep when they were dead, which is sooner than they want it to be.

Wake up. Train. Each other. Repeat.  

Such is their lives for almost three entire months. Just them and the academy, where one last time they revisit the place they spent the last ten years of their lives.

Sometimes they had fans, kids who broke protocol for a chance to see the most famous victors of District Two.

“I thought they sent the kids home.”  Cato whispers, wiping the sweat from his face with his shirt he had discarded on the ground earlier when the intensity of Enobaria’s training against him amped up. He throws the shirt back down, walking towards Clove with open hands and a bare chest. “I think we have a fan club.”

“Of course we do.” Clove teases, glancing at the corner of the room where preteens had begun to sneak in and huddle around the entrance. “Can you blame them? We’re the best this district’s ever seen” Clove grabs him by the throat, swinging around to wrap her legs around his hips as she climbs on to his back. “Give them the show they came for.”

Cato flips her off, landing her firmly on her back on the ground, watching as she reaches for the knife on her thigh.

It reminded them of a simpler-- dare to say happier—time. Of being kids, whos only competition was each other. Or even when, in the wake of his games, Cato recommitted to the center, and in turn, maximizing his girlfriend’s training.

Or maybe running her into the ground.

“Cato, let me go.” Clove kicked her feet into his chest, a futile effort to get him to release his iron clad grip on her throat. “Seriously. Let. Go.”

“Noone’s letting you go in the arena.” Cato raises the hand around her throat, dangling her by the beck off the cushioned floor. “You’re little, Clove, they’ll get you like this, and if they do, you’re dead. Work harder.” He is careful not to actually harm her, not now, though as they progressed, he would have no choice but to get more aggressive and intentional with their training. “Come on Clove, fight back.”

Clove is squirming, desperately trying to pry his hands off her throat with both of her own, trying to pull back on each finger. “Cato-” This time it’s a choked gasp as he presses the space between his thumb and index finger into the front of her neck, cutting off the air to her lungs.

“Cato, STOP.” Enobaria – the only other person in the training center this late, equally as dedicated to Clove’s success as he is– goes to shove him off. “If you fucking choke her to death in here she’ll never see the arena, let her go. Now.”

“She’ll be fine if she just pushes harder. Come on. Kick me off, use your legs. Work for it, Clove.” He’s arm’s length away, close enough that with full use of her legs she could work her way out, but not close enough to give her any advantage of her hands clawing at his face. “Do you want to die like this? A foot off the ground and useless? Fight me Clove, come on.”

Enobaria goes to step in, to peel Cato away, but she is stopped when Cato himself holds her out with his other arm. “We aren’t going to be there to help her. She needs to work for it.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Cato. Is this some fucked up excuse to get all domestic violence on her? You’re crossing a line, this isn’t helping–”

“I know what that arena is like. We didn’t come this fucking far for you to go in and die, Clove.”

Clove finally plants her foot in the center of his chest and digs in, pushing him back enough that he at the very least is satisfied and loosens the hand on her throat. She crumbles to the ground, coughing violently as she chokes desperately for the air to reenter her lungs.  Clove’s hand comes to her own throat, curling her knees to her chest as she leans into the wall.

“She’s perfectly well trained. Don’t take out your insecurities on her.” Enobaria kneels beside her girl, using her hand to tilt Clove's face. She takes in the paleness of her skin from the restricted blood flow, Clove leaving out shaking gasps as she reorients herself. There is a redness already filling in the skin on her neck, and Enobaria will not be surprised if she has a handprint shaped bruise along her airways tomorrow.  

“We’re done for the day. Go get some rest, Clove. We’ll see you tomorrow.” She grabs Cato by the shoulder and pulls him back. “Get the fuck out of here. You went too far.”

“The games are coming fast, Enobaria.” He tries to defend himself, tugging his arm from Enobaria’s grasp. “We don’t have time to mess around.”

“There's a fine FINE line you are crossing, Cato. Go home.”

Enobaria leaves them alone in the center, then, Clove still steadying her breath and her mind after the mild asphyxiation she nearly suffered.

He crouches in front of her, offering a hand to her. “I know, it’s a lot. I can’t lose you in those games, Clove. I’d rather push you now, so I know you’ll come home.”

Clove curls away from him, laying her head against the wall. “I’ve been training longer than you did, Cato. I know what I'm doing.”

“I know. But Clove if something happened to you–”

“NOTHING is happening to me except winning.” Comes out in a rasping voice, Clove finally having steadied her breathing enough to argue. “I can handle myself.”

He won’t say sorry because he is not. He can make it up to her once she wins, once all this training was worth it and they are safe and together for the rest of their lives. Instead, he once again offers his hand to her. “Come on. Let's go home. “

“Fuck you.” Clove smacks his hand away, hiding her face in the space she’s made between her bent knees and her body. “Go away.”

“Babe don’t be like that. I’m just trying to help–”

“Leave me alone”

“I don’t want to watch you die. You can hate me now, but I’d rather you hate me and be alive.”

“Oh I hate you alright.” Clove coughs sighing as she relaxes against the wall. “I’m serious. Leave.”

“Baby. Just come home. I’ve got that bath stuff you like..” Cato rubs his hand on her knee comfortingly, testing the water of physical contact after the admittedly intense training only minutes ago. “I leave for my victory tour in a few days, I won’t see you for weeks. You’ll miss me.”

“Good, I don’t want to see you.”

“You don’t mean that, come on, don’t be like this.” Cato goes to wrap his arm under her knees. “I’ll even carry you home.”

“Get away from me.” Clove nudges his hands off her forcefully, kicking his hand away as hard as she can manage. “I’m staying in my room tonight.”

“In that shitty dorm bed? Why would you stay there when we have a bed back home. Seriously,  I’ll carry you. I’ll make up for it, I promise.”

“YOU have a bed in your house. Your house for victors. Which I am not, as you so kindly love to remind me. I’m still at tribute, remember?”  Clove raises to her feet, rubbing absently at the swelling she feels deep in the tissue of her neck.

“Fine. Be a bitch, Clove. I’ll stop trying to help you.” Cato growls, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Enjoy your dorm bed and your shitty food and your mediocre training partner.” This was new for him. No matter how far he usually pushed, she could take it. She fought back. She NEVER refused to come home.

Maybe he actually went too far, he considers only for a moment.

Clove turns away, planning to storm off and out of the room in the way most of their arguments resolve. She turns too fast and the world spins for her, and she steadies herself on the wall. She slaps away the hand of his that reaches to grab her hip, reaching to steady her. “Enjoy your tour, go choke some bitch from one since that’s what you’re into these days.”

“Remember how crazy you went before my games? I thought you were trying to actually be the one to kill me.” Clove wipes the blade of the knife on her thigh, clearing it of ballistics gel from within her favorite mannequin she had just pulled it out of (the one that felt like real flesh, of course it was her favorite, she had explained when they were thirteen).

“And yet you still came home with me almost every night anyway.” Cato pinches her hip, wrapping his arm around her waist, before leaning in and whispering against her ear. “Maybe you liked how it felt a little too much.”

“Did you consider it was because you had a nicer shower?” Clove taunts, twisting out of his grasp and pushing him against the wall by his shoulder. Clove takes a moment to appreciate how her hand plants against the dense muscle of his chest. Sure, it had only been a few years, but somehow even in the short time from seventeen to twenty he had just gotten bigger. “What do you say? We give them one last lesson?” She flashes him a wicked raise of her eyebrow and a snarky smile, nodding her head towards the herd of adolescents by the door.

“I guess we would have been their trainers. Maybe they deserve to see how it’s done.” Cato nods his head in the general direction of the huddled children. “Are any of you going to come watch or are you just going to cower in the corner?”

The kids do in fact shuffle over, about ten of them, sitting in a semi-circle in front of Cato and Clove. In another world they would have trained these kids, picked the best from their ranks, and sent them into the games. In another world they would have mentored some of them in the games and watched them come home as victors in their own right.

The kids can’t be much older than eleven or twelve, barely eligible for the reaping themselves. Clove remembers that age, how by that point Cato had distinctly been assigned as her partner for the rest of their time in training until one would die in the games at the hands of the other.

Maybe he had unintentionally also been assigned as her partner in all meanings of the world, in all facets for the rest of their lives.

“Have any of you been assigned to each other yet?” Clove waves a thin knife in their general direction, taking note how some groups of kids sat in almost pre-made pairs.

A little girl nods at her, with wide eyes and a childish gap between her teeth. She grabs the hand of the boy next to her and raises it above her head. “This one’s mine.”

Cato smiles to himself, at the natural possessiveness of the kid over her anticipatory partner. Clove had been like that, too.

“Alright. You two get up then.” Clove instructs, waving them forward. The boy walks towards Cato, and the girl to her.

She kneels behind the girl, hands square on her shoulders. It gives her the briefest sense of déjà vu. The little girl and the boy already a head taller.

“Rule number one.” Clove tells her facing her squarely against the boy her age. “Size doesn’t matter.”

“Actual rule number one.” Cato interrupts, bringing the lanky male child directly infront of him. “If you’ve got an advantage, use it.”

Just for a moment they get to pretend that they are living the future they imagined back when they were the same age as these very kids.

-

It is the last night in their home, probably forever, that they finally address their lives crumbling around them.

It’s sometime after midnight as they lay side by side on the floor of the spare bedroom next to theirs. They had gone room to room, sitting in silence as they soaked in the last night in the house, they had made their home so easily.

Years ago, now, she had laid in this very room imagining painting the ceiling and making the room their little training studio.

Now, she just wished she had enough time to store sweaters in it.

“So this is it.” Clove whispers, threading her fingers through his before bringing their linked hands to her lips. “Ten years to come to this.”

“All I ever wanted was to go in to the games.” Cato recalls, staring at the ceiling with nothing but numbness in his tone. “And now— I don’t want to go back, in, Clove.”

In the deepest corners of their home, at the latest points of the night, the nightmares had begun.

Cato, who had never even been at risk of losing, would sit on the edge of the bed awake and sweating and refusing to elaborate.

Clove, who would wake up gasping for air, hand at her throat hoping he does not hear.

Cato, who squints a little too long at the sun on those hot days and feels his skin ache when the heat settles in too long like it had back in that arena.

Clove, who cannot get out of bed during the first winter storm, because just like that she is aching deep in her bones, the feeling of metal slipping between frozen fingers all too engrained into her brain.

No one ever cared to warn them that the games will not leave them unscathed even when they come out alive. Even as careers, apparently you don’t come out without the games taking part of you, too.

“I don’t want to go back, either…what if we just refuse.” Clove murmurs, turning her head to face him. “What if tomorrow we just don’t volunteer.”

Cato squeezes her hand but says nothing. They’ve considered it, both individually and together. They know, though, that it’s not as easy as that.

Rebellious has never been the word to describe them, except perhaps when it came to being together.

“I can’t kill you.” Clove admits, voice soft and tired. Tired of training, tired of the endless games the world has played with them.

For all they talked about being the one to kill the other, suddenly that feels impossible. It feels like stabbing a knife through their own hearts, like leaving the most vital organ in their bodies behind in the arena.

Killing the other now feels unthinkable. And oh, how their sixteen year old selves would be furious at them because of that.

And yet…

She does not feel like the sixteen-year-old girl who wanted to go to the games more than anything. The girl who just wanted blood on her hands and a crown on her head.

He does not feel like the same boy whose only goal was brutal, bloody killing for the title before his name.

Maybe they are not those people anymore, or maybe they just grew up. Maybe they found something other than the games and victory worth living for.

“I won’t kill you.” Cato agrees, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close. “There’s no way.’

“What happens if it comes down to the two of us.” Clove lays her head on his shoulder, curling up and tossing her leg over his, intertwining their limbs. “Are we going to pull what they did? Just refused to kill each other and threaten to kill ourselves instead?”

“That is exactly what we’re going to do.” Cato kisses her temple, giving a firm shake of his head. “If it comes down to us…they can kill us themselves. We’re not doing it. It’s both of us or neither of us.”

“Together or neither.” Clove whispers, desperately trying to quell back the emotions that she feels rushing forward. “I’m not coming back without you.”

“What’s the point.” Cato agrees. Yes, he has a sister and parents, but what truly was the point. Cato without Clove may be a body without a head. Unnatural. Dead. What did they have back here, after that?

“Together.” She promises out loud, to which one of them is unclear. “Together.”

They lie there, silent, for what feels like hours.

They think of the future, that is gone before it could start.

They say goodbye to the children who will never be born. The blonde boy and his freckled little sister who they would have loved more than life itself.

They say goodbye to the empty home without the dog he so deeply wanted.  

They say goodbye to every part of their lives, except each other. Never each other.

They accept that it is either all or none. Together or neither.

There is no future here, not one they want, if they come back alone.

For all their lives they had planned to go into the games together. Side by side. The greatest team two would ever know, go down fighting against each other, and show respect in the way they killed the other.

Somehow nothing seems less appealing than coming home to two alone. Except maybe being the one to take the other out.

“We’re still partners, right?” Cato asks, voice softer than she may have ever heard it before.

“In every single way that matters.”

If either of them cry, well, that is a secret that will die between them.

-

The next morning is their last attempt at celebrating their lives.

Clove changes the sheets on the bed, with the intention that when they come home, they will want a clean bed to crawl into together. Call it delusion, call it manifestation. Call it hope.

Cato leaves his laundry on the bathroom floor. God forbid if they didn’t come home...there will signs of their life together throughout this house, he insists on it.

Signs of life-- In the laundry on the bathroom floor. In the half-used jar of honey in the kitchen cabinet to the left above the sink. In their names forever carved into the bed post.

When someone takes this home after them, they will be inextricable from the four walls.

It will forever be their home, even if they lived inside just for a short time.

Enobaria and Brutus come for breakfast. Clove does not complain this one time, as she instinctively adds a handful of mini chocolate chips to Brutus’.

Enobaria doesn’t question when Clove leans in and whispers a thank you, so quiet she almost misses it, when she hands her a plate of her favorite breakfast foods.

This is not the time for their goodbye. Not yet.

His parents come by, of course, bringing his sister. It is best to have goodbyes now. They are officially Careers the minute that reaping starts. The softness and gentle words of love for his family are behind closed doors.

Cato is being held by his mother, who over and over tells him how proud they are of him. “We love you so much.” She promises her son, who is hunched over, shoulders shaking, with his face hidden in her blonde hair. “We are so so so proud of you, my love.”

Clove feels a tightness in her throat, at the way her heart yearns for such confessions. She has no mother to promise eternal pride or love, nor a father who wordlessly hugs the way Cato’s currently is doing, holding his only son close for what will likely be the last time.

“Don’t send her to training.” Clove hears him plead, and the ‘her’ in question could only be the five year old who is currently sitting in her lap. “Let someone else volunteer. You’ll have lost enough.” It’s a plea, nearly begging, that his parents will not willingly lose their last child. Please save his sister, the child they both have done so much to protect.

“Clove?” The little girl leans back in her arms, looking up to her with innocent blue eyes full of tears. Cora has always been such an empathetic thing, so intune with the people who love her. This sweet child, who would never have the killer instincts to win the game if god forbid she is sent.  “Why is everybody so sad?”

Clove forces a smile, blinking back the tears that started threatening to well in the front of her green eyes. “Cato and I have to go away for a little while, that’s all. We don’t know when we’ll be back.”

“But you’ll come home, right? One day?” Cora Hadley leans against her, head on her shoulder, looking at her as if she hangs the sun in the sky herself.

“…I hope so, kiddo.” Clove brings her hand up to stroke at the blonde curls of her baby sister-in-law, and she remembers for a moment that no one even knows that little fact. Yet another secret will die with them.

“Promise?” Cora sniffles, and Clove feels the warmth of her tears dropping onto her skin.

“…yeah Cora, I promise.” It was a lie, and she would likely never hold this girl again, but a little white lie never hurt anyone. Why break her heart now, when with the right amount of time she may not remember them at all.  

“You can’t break a promise.” Cora reminds her, curling up in her arms like she had when she was just a toddler, arms wrapped tightly around her neck.

Clove leans her neck back to stop the tears that so badly want to flow, blinking aggressively. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Do not let this girl’s last memory be of her crying, and not the fierce competitor she is.

She sighs deeply, gently tapping Cora’s shoulder to pull her attention., “I have something for you.”

“Like a present?”

“Yeah…kind of like a present.” Clove leans back, snaking her hands around her neck. She unlatches the dainty silver chain, holding it out for Cora to inspect. The silver C that sits on the end has been through more than its fair share of games, across multiple chains and bodies. It’s time that cycle ends.

The little girl gasps, excitedly wrapping her little hands around the charm at the end. “It’s a C! For Cora?”

“Cora. Clove. Cato.” Clove explains, offering to take it and secure it around the little girl’s neck. “This was my mom’s. Then she went away, and I had to keep it safe. And now I’m going away…and I need you to keep it safe for me, okay?”

“I promise!” She agrees, nodding with a brilliant, bright smile on her face. Cora touches the script letter, but then launches her arms back around Clove’s neck. “..I’m gonna miss you.”

“…I’m going to miss you too. So much.”

Clove wonders, as she holds on to this little girl, how her mother ever let her go.

Cato joins her on the couch then, eyes red, but no tears streaking down his face. He holds out his hands and she shifts his baby sister to his arms.

“We love you.” She hears him whisper to her, holding her little head against his shoulder. Cato looks up at his parents, and she sees him hesitate, going to say something then biting back his tongue. She wonders if he was going to tell them what she thinks he was, but she will never know now as he changes his topic.

“Don’t…Please don’t let her forget about us.”

-

They are in Careers’ mindset the moment they walk into the town square for the reaping. This is the footage the other tributes their friends would see. They must be on their A game. They must be intimidating. Everybody knows, the games really start now.  

They wear head to toe black, the days of navy-blue suits and white lace dresses of their childhood reapings long behind them. No longer are they the volunteers with stars in their eyes. They’re experienced killers, now, with a lot more to lose.

They are going into this the stone-faced brutal killers that they are, murder behind their eyes and hatred in what is left of their hearts.

The surviving victors are lined up on that stage before all of their home district, and the ceremonial card is read aloud to the district. While the others beside them look fierce, none look more frightening than the cold, hardened looks of Cato and Clove.

In the end, Cato does not get to volunteer. He is oh-so-conveniently reaped, the name Cato Hadley broadcast for all the district to hear. If Clove didn’t know better, she would swear that there is annoyance in his face, that his moment to shine was taken away from him.

Despite not necessarily smiling, there is the slightest hint of a cocky smirk on his face.

They have a reputation to uphold, of course.

For a moment, Clove debates on risking it. She considers letting one of those bitchy women take her place, or rather, she debates not taking theirs. Wouldn’t that be poetic justice, refusing to volunteer, to let one of the women who voted to send her to her death go to their own. Fair is Fair.

But then the name pulled is the woman who raised her, and Clove cannot get the words out of her mouth fast enough.  

Cato and Clove join hands at the front of the stage, and when their hands are raised above their head for all of District Two, they do not smile.

They are hard. They are cold. They are killers.

When they are ushered directly to the train, without the traditional time for goodbyes, they realize they are not the only ones no longer here to play games.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Cataclysm

https://www.patreon.com/empyreaniris?fan_landing=true

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/182501791735/master-post

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jzEIdDAB4omdO2JcQVMObfrhLJ5kX4ONmSsLypM1ks0/edit?usp=sharing

An uneasy standstill, the calm before the storm. The war had begun, yet the only shots to be fired were still contained upon the derelict space station. Space itself was still, a tense chess game waiting to break out into violence. Pieces moved on either side while the sacrificial pawns had yet to be played.

Adam sat in the cockpit of the F-90 Darkfire, roosting in tense silence with several other squadrons of aircraft, Maker designed and human designed all intermingled. The F-90 had been retrofitted to run on Anima energy, and when the instruments lit up, they glowed a delicate gold.

He took a deep breath, slow and steady through his nose and closed his eyes.

He could feel his heart racing inside his chest dancing out a manic rhythm. 

“Fealty?”

The AI who had been humming subtly in the background of his suit, responded to his command, appearing on his hud as a little cartoon dog with its head tilted. The image sort of reminded him of waffles, and pancake, and those thoughts made his heart hurt.

“Show me/”

The little cartoon dog vanished, replaced by a reel of pictures: Kay curled up with waffles and Pancake, Kay in his Halloween costume, Kay asleep as a baby inside his mother’s helmet. Sunny holding Astra and Nyx, His parents Holding the twins, He squeezed his eyes shut and his head hurt.

They had to win this.

He would do anything to be able to see his children again even if that meant saving the universe to do it….. Another part of him realized that he would do anything….. Just to let his kids live, even if it meant never seeing them again. He opened his eyes, looking through the docking bay’s energy field and out towards  the great black behemoth that lurked at the center of the galaxy

Sagittarius A*

Adam was willing to exist the destruction of his soul, willing to exist never existing.

Just so they could

The thought clawed its way into his throat, choking him, but he fought it down. 

No time to think about himself, only time to think about his family and his friends.

His hand tightened on the joystick. 

“T-Minus thirty.” Someone announced over the coms.

Red lights started flashing inside the docking bay. Adam could feel the sudden rumble of engines as they moved from idle. 

He did the same with his own jet, watching as the docking bay crew scuttle around on the floor ahead of them, waving flags and markers as everyone was settled into last minute position.

His headset chirped to life, and from he copilot seat Krill’s voice came, “You know, after all of these years being terrified for my life, this might be the first time I will actually have the ability to wet myself.”

Adam snorted.

It had taken an entire team and a half to get Krill fitted into the copilot seat.

In order to come at all his SE armor had been fitted with a pressurized amniotic compartment where his real body was stashed inside a thick viscous liquid, kind of like the brain inside spinal fluid. It was krill’s belief that his more fragile body would be protected, while his more human form could operate with impunity. However, that meant the suit he wore was absolutely massive, more like a mech than a suit at all, and it had taken some creative thinking to fit him inside.

Still, Adam was glad for the company, no shade to Krill, but he missed Sunny.

As battle partner they had sworn to be at each other’s backs always, but a conversation before the operation began had resulted in the two of them coming to the decision that they needed to go in separately on the off chance one of them didn’t make it, they wanted at least one parent to survive.

So, while Adam was going in on the jet, Sunny had chosen to join her family on a Drev drop carrier with the other warriors of her clan, Lanus and Sunny at their head. 

Lanus, Sunny, Kanan, Dzara, the entire family together, and that at least made him feel better.

“You sure you’re up for this.” He asked, his voice strangely warped and tinny over the comms.”

“Do I look like someone who can back out now.”

“T-minus Ten, nine, eight, seven.”

“Guess not.

And then there it was, the familiar pressure building up in the cradle of his pelvis. Adam sighed, Here he was a grown ass man, and still his body’s nervous response was suddenly and and unexplainably needed to pee, even after several trips to the bathroom “just in case”

“Two, one zero.”

…..

“Launch.”

Hundreds of engines firing all at once, until the night sky was filled with the burning golden glow of their engines, like a swarm of fireflies. Adam took point, exiting the empyrean and passing through the docking bay field and out into the silence of space. All around him thousands of other smaller ships joined him, in thousands of different shapes and sizes. He could only imagine what it might have looked like from a distance.

Fireworks.

Maybe.

Their plan was to strike hard and fast.

No mercy

No remorse.

There was no room for polite warfare, this was the end of the universe as they knew it, and manners were out of place, and out of time.

Evidently the Vodi felt the same way.

As soon as the first fighter, Adam, deployed, the Void matched with a response of its own, spitting spiked jets painted with tortured orange voidlight straight towards them, like the pellets from the barrel of a shotgun. Adam felt like it should have had a sound, an explosion, or a crackle like fire, or even an eruption like a volcano.

But the violence happened in complete silence.

Though the clash that came rocked the universe.

The first death occurred, not from weapons, but as two opposing fighters slammed together in a brief but fiery ball of debris erupting outward like an explosive mine, shredding at least two fighters that came too close.

One listed sideways ramming into another fighter, the two falling into an interlocking spin that tore them apart. Adam cut to the side, and then dove down, cutting narrowly between the wings of two opposing ships, deploying countermeasure rockets as he was passing between them, tagging both enemy ships in the fuselage and ripping them apart with a sharp and silent explosion. The hammering of his heart died away, slowly lulled by combat until both his hands and his body were steady, silent and controlled. The pressure on his bladder vanished as the nerves went wit them.

Nothing mattered now, but the moment.

The sky was chaos, bumper cars on steroids strapped to explosives. Adam rolled to avoid an explosion on his left, cutting i na shallow arc under a vessel passing in the other direction. Fealty tagged enemy targets, highlighting them in red where his normal human vision would be unable to keep up.

He spun once, very sharply to his left, falling into the trailing path of an enemy fighter locking on briefly before deploying rockets.

The ship exploded, and he dove downward avoiding the debris.

Killing enemy fighters was all well and good, but he never took his eyes off the real goal.

The necrotorium, glowing orange like the promised hell that it was, still so far away and surrounded by a wall of steel rubbed raw by the sickly  orange light of their shields.

A voice crackled in his headset “Cherub, This is mad dog  Four o clock on your right”

“Think you can hack it mad dog.” Adam asked,

“We’re going to find out.

“This is wicked Eight o'clock high.”

“Welcome aboard, wicked, try not to die.” Adam said, and then Dove down and back into the frey. Behind him Wicked and Mad dog followed in desperation to keep on his tail. Adam called out his moves before he made them, and together they cut into the bulk of the enemy squadron.

Adam’s dash beeped,

“He’s trying to lock on me.” Adam said.

“I got him, I got him. Cherub roll right!”  Wicked shouted

Adam rolled right, his pursuer streaking through the palace where he had been and exploding a few seconds past that moment

“HA!” Wicked said, her voice crackling over the radio. 

“Deploying countermeasures.” Mad Dog shouted, and another explosion lightened the black sky.

They were moving forward, sure and steady. Adam cut at a diagonal past two incoming fighters and then reversed his engines coming to a halt and shooting backwards as they tried to turn. Fealty marked both, and deployed the heat seekers that found their mark. Adam rotated the jet on its axis 180 degrees and shot in the other direction.

They were coming up on the bulk of the Armada now.

Massive blak ships loomed over them.

One of the ships pulsed, a powerful beam of burning orange void light pulsed from its cannons, vaporizing a straight line of fighters in the process, leaving nothing behind but dust.

Fealty chirped in warning, and Adam cut right just as another beam shot through the place where he had been.

Wicked shouted.

Mad dog cursed.

The ball of steel rose up…. This was going to be too much.

How were they going to get through this and the shield?!

And then, Adam saw it.

It was a miracle that he did. What it took to have him here in the right place and at the right time might as well have been a miracle, and still he only noticed because out of all the red highlights on his dash, as fealty lit up his enemies, he couldn’t help but notice the tiny dash of green.

A friendly.

At first Adam thought another jet might have made it ahead of him, but in the heat of the moment, as his subconscious brain was running in parallel to his active combat brain he realized the small dot wasn’t moving, and it was far too small to be a ship.

Momentum carrying him closer, it wasn’t until Adam was nearly right up on it that he realized.

The figure was humanoid.

Floating simply in the middle of space, gone unnoticed by the Void.

That fact wasn’t to last long.

As the figure raised his hands, and let off a psychic wave of energy that almost imploded Adam’s mind in the backlash.”

[rockislandadultreads]

New Title Tuesday: Urban Fiction

Beats & Blow by Shaun Sinclair

His empire is worth a billion thanks to the drug-fueled wealth of his infamous Dirty South crew. But with unanticipated enemies gathering for a final devastating hit, will there be anyone left to rule? Even near-fatal business and body blows can’t keep the Crescent Crew down for long. From lockdown, their founder and leader Qwess negotiates an unlimited supply of product that’s tripling the profits lost when the Feds swept in. But his treacherous second-in-command, Bone, has a secret agenda at play that's sparking a brutal internal war. And when Qwess’s old rival, New York mogul Diamond, comes gunning to finish him and his kingdom for good, betrayal and payback will win the day—and could leave nothing and no one standing...

This is the fifth volume of the "Crescent Crew" series.

Burning Season by Kiki Swinson

Set your schemes . . . A volunteer Virginia Beach firefighter, Alayna Curry faces death every day—and is proud to carry on her retired father's legacy. But with cash always tight and her long-time boyfriend Levi pressuring her to give up what she loves to make more money, she knows she needs more cash flow to stay afloat. . .

Set your traps . . . All Alayna has to do is keep quiet about a scheme to burn down buildings for insurance-hungry “clients.” And for a while she’s on fire from the rush, making insane cash—and finding new passion in all the wrong places. But when the money suddenly stops rolling in—and one “client” after another pushes back against the deal—Alayna and the rest of the crew stop watching out for each other and start fighting for their lives . . .

Set your life on fire . . . Now with the cops turning up the heat and every firefighter for themselves, Alayna must walk an impossible line to get out from under. But between betrayal, secrets, and broken duty, will what loyalty she has left be the one thing that burns her life to the ground for good?

Madam X by Niobia Bryant

Billionaire celebrity clients, anything-goes erotic nights, seductive betrayals—Desdemona Dean couldn't wait to leave the high-end prostitution game behind. Now settled down with the only man she’s ever loved, Desi is getting the chances her shattered childhood denied her—and making her life truly her own. Until a basketball superstar publicly credits Madam X's unmatched sexual services for his astonishing career. Add an anonymous tip to the police—and suddenly Desi is in the center of a social and tabloid media firestorm . . .

Knowing others’ secret desires has always kept Desi safe—and hiding her own wrenching past is the only protection she could ever trust. But her lies are taking her relationship apart piece by piece, keeping her only seconds ahead of the police—and exposing her to a malicious blackmailer determined to destroy her for good . . .

Now Desi will need all her nerve and cool, calculating bravado to take down her enemies and outmaneuver the law. But once she reveals who she used to be, can she survive the consequences to hold on to the woman she’s become?

This is the second volume of the "Madam" series.

Penthouse View by Zari

When Shantana has finally gotten everything she ever wanted, a mistake from her past threatens to bring it all crashing down around her.

Selling weed and then running her own robbing crew that targeted drug dealers was how Shantana Phillips gained her entry into the Atlanta drug market. Their motto was, "Why buy drugs when you can steal them?"

While Shantana and her crew are celebrating in South Beach after their biggest hit ever, the ambitious and power-hungry Shantana meets a Colombian importer looking for a new distributor for the Atlanta market. During a trip to Cali, Colombia, he promises to take her program to the next level. All she has to do is eliminate his old distributor in that market. Once the brutal deed is done and Shantana has the power, she decides not to stop at just the old distributor. Why not ruthlessly eliminate all of her competition and have it all?

This volume is a part of the "Carl Weber's Kingpins" series.

[getmymettle]

Your Complete Roadmap to Weight Loss with Pilates Exercises

Ever wondered if Pilates exercises could be the secret sauce for weight loss and overall fitness? Well, buckle up, because we're about to dive into the world of Pilates – the low-impact exercise that's not just about toning muscles but also making you feel like a fitness Rockstar, especially with beginner Pilates workouts.

Picture this: You're on your yoga mat, embracing the gentle magic of Pilates exercises at home. It's not a race against time like running or a splashy swim session, but boy, does it bring some cool benefits to the table. Let's break it down and make Pilates your new fitness BFF, starting with beginner Pilates workouts.

Pilates Principles – The Fab Six:

Centering: It's all about that core, the sweet spot between your pelvic bone and lower ribs – the epicenter of Pilates exercises.

Concentration: Give those Pilates movements your full-on attention – it's like giving your muscles a pep talk during your beginner Pilates workout.

Control: Slow and steady wins the race in beginner Pilates workouts; let those muscles show off their command.

Precision: Think strong core, think perfect alignment – it's all about hitting the sweet spot, especially in beginner Pilates exercises.

Breath: Sync your moves with your breath – inhale, exhale, and let the magic happen in your beginner Pilates workout.

Flow: Keep it smooth, keep it rhythmic – breathe in, breathe out, and let those beginner Pilates vibes flow.

Perks of Pilates – Why It's So Darn Cool for Pilates Exercises at Home:

Flexibility Boost: You'll be bending and stretching like never before in your beginner Pilates workout at home.

Core Stamina: Get ready for abs that can handle anything life throws at you during your Pilates exercises at home.

No-Impact, High-Five Intensity: It's a workout that won't leave you panting but will make you feel accomplished – especially crucial for beginner Pilates exercises at home.

Balance and Posture Upgrade: Say goodbye to wobbles and hello to a graceful stance during your Pilates workout at home.

No Equipment Needed: Just you, your mat, and the Pilates magic – no fancy gear required for beginner Pilates workouts at home.

Move Like a Pro: Say hello to improved mobility and flexibility, even if you're just starting out with beginner Pilates exercises.

Muscle Power-Up: Strengthen those muscles and build up your endurance during your beginner Pilates workout.

Perfect for Recovery: Whether you're healing or just staying fit, Pilates has your back, especially when you opt for beginner Pilates exercises.

Decoding Pilates – How It Works in Beginner Pilates Workouts:

Pilates is like that perfect blend of flexibility, muscle strength, and endurance – all wrapped up in a low-impact package, perfect for beginners. Crafted by Joseph Pilates, it's the secret sauce for a killer core, muscle balance, and injury prevention, making it an ideal choice for beginner Pilates workouts. Choose your flavor from classic, mat, contemporary, reformer, or clinical Pilates – there's a Pilates for every mood and every beginner.

Let's Get Started – Pilates for Everyone, Especially with Beginner Pilates Workouts at Home:

Pilates isn't just for fitness gurus; it's the friendly workout buddy you've been searching for, especially with beginner Pilates workouts. Grab that yoga mat, find some space to move, and let's kick things off. No pressure, just good vibes and a chance to level up as you get stronger in your beginner Pilates workout. Plus, you'll become fluent in Pilates lingo – ever heard of the Pilates Stance, Midline, Tabletop, or Tuck? They're your secret code to balance and a killer core, especially during beginner Pilates workouts.

Home Sweet Pilates – 10-Minute Fun Time with Beginner Pilates Workouts:

Now, let's talk about Pilates at home – the ultimate game-changer, especially for beginners. No fancy equipment, just you and your commitment to fun workouts. Here are six moves you can rock in just 10 minutes for your beginner Pilates workout:

The 100s: Abs, arms, and a bit of a dance party on your mat – trust us, it's a vibe for your beginner Pilates workout.

Single Leg Stretch: Your ticket to a strong core – alternate those leg moves like a Pilates pro, even as a beginner.

Roll-Ups: Inhale, roll up, exhale, roll down – it's like a mini rollercoaster for your abs during your beginner Pilates workout.

Single Leg Drop: Tap those toes and feel the burn – it's a party for your lower abs, perfect for beginner Pilates exercises.

Double Leg Lift: Elevate those legs and let gravity do its thing – it's a core challenge for your beginner Pilates workout.

Plank: The grand finale – hold that plank like a superhero and feel the burn during your beginner Pilates workout.

Wrap-Up – Your Beginner Pilates Adventure Awaits:

There you have it, your guide to unlocking weight loss and fitness fun with Pilates, especially if you're a beginner. It's not about perfection; it's about enjoying the journey. So, grab that mat, hit the floor, and let Pilates be your fitness companion, especially during your beginner Pilates workouts. It's time to move, groove, and discover the joy of Pilates – your body will thank you for it!

[sodiumlamp]

Picard

This might be my favorite shot of the whole series. "[no audible dialogue]" sums up so much of Star Trek: Picard.

The runner up for this episode of Seven of Nine saying "mass spectrometer".

So this is Season 3, Episode 3, and it should have been a lot of fun, because the previous episode set up this battle in a nebula. Titan is outgunned and can't escape, so they flee into the nebula to hide. But the Shrike follows and seems to catch up to them anyway. The only advantage the Titan seems to have is that Shrike can't destroy Titan without killing Jack Crusher, the man they came her to get. It's a nice premise for a battle. A real cat-and-mouse game, where it seems like the Shrike is content to chase the mouse and whittle away at it until it finally succumbs to exhaustion.

The problem is that the breakdown of leadership on the Titan. Captain Shaw's kind of an asshole, but his bigger problem is that he keeps letting people push him around on his own ship. Seven defied his orders, which got them into this mess, then Picard overrode his authority by refusing to allow Jack to be surrendered. He confined Seven to quarters, but it took him forever to do it, and then he leaves Riker and Picard on the bridge to continue to get in his way.

Then he gets wounded during the battle and transfers his command authorization to Riker. You might think this would turn the tide, since the story clearly wants us to think that the main characters are the only ones who are good at their jobs. But no. Riker insists on a defensive strategy, buying time until they can get their warp engines on line and make a run for it. Picard insists that they should go on the offensive. When Jack Crusher figures out how the Shrike is tracking them, Picard sees this as an opportunity. He wants to lure Shrike into a trap, while Riker wants to use this chance to put more distance between them. And they argue about this. A lot.

You might think Picard has the right idea, since it's his show, but eventually Riker plays it his way, mostly because they've run out of options, and it only makes things worse. They get pulled into the center of the nebula... which is apparently very dangerous because it's not actually a nebula at all... and Riker bitterly informs Picard that he's killed them all.

It sucks all the fun out of this battle. There's three damn captains on the bridge, and they each take turns having no idea how to win this thing. In the long run, it probably doesn't matter much, since they'll probably be okay and there's seven more episodes for them to fix things, but this is just a real downer of a way to end the episode. I shouldn't be surprised that Star Trek: Picard would pick this.

Let me complain about the mass spectrometer line for a moment. While treating Captain Shaw's injuries, Jack sees a trail of blood on the sickbay floor. Also, Beverly Crusher was making the point that Shaw's internal bleeding had to be diagnosed indirectly. Imaging scanners don't always pick that sort of thing up, but she caught it by paying attention to his labored breathing and poking him in the belly. So Jack tries to tell the bridge, but they won't let him up there, so he tells Seven instead, and they reason that a gas leak from their engines would leave a trail for the Shrike to follow. But the sensors are useless in the nebula-that's-not-a-nebula, so Jack's logic is that it must be something you can detect without sensors.

The thing is, wouldn't a mass spectrometer be a type of sensor? I might be splitting hairs here. We tend to think of Star Trek sensors as being this scanner type thing that detects energy being emitted from a source, or maybe they emit energy and bounce it off an object to detect it. A mass-spec works a little differently, because you have to draw a stream of matter vapor into the thing, then ionize the vapor and direct it through a magnetic field. The ions then strike a detector, and the paths of those ions are influenced by their respective masses. The lightest ion fragments shoot mostly straight through the magnetic field, while the heavier ones get tugged "off course" a little more. This allows you to measure the mass of the fragments, and you can use all the data to get an idea of what the original matter was made of.

In this case, it's "verterium", a thing they made up for the show, but it sounded like they were saying "deuterium", which is a real thing. I had to turn on the subtitles to find that out. I guess verterium would be complex or unique enough to stand out in a mass-spectrum, but the nebula is packed with its own gases, which you would think would interfere, since they seem to interfere with everything else. No, wait, they could use a sniffer kind of deal to draw sample into the Shrike, and most of the gas is just hydrogen, and you could set the MS to ignore mass-to-charge ratios of 1. Dammit, Picard got the science right, I guess.

Anyway, there's pleny of "verterium" leaking, because there's a saboteur on board who purposely caused the leak. Jack finds the culprit, and takes an asswhoopin' with a side of verterium poisoning, because the saboteur is a Changeling. There's a whole scene where Beverly and Picard anxiously worry about him as he seems to die in sickbay, but then Beverly's medical stuff finally works and he lives. It's like this counterpoint to their argument at the top of the episode, where she told him she didn't want him to find out she was pregnant with Jack because his life was always in danger, and he's upset that she never let him have the chance to decide to be a father. Well for a brief moment they're a family, just like Riker felt when there was some crisis during his son's birth.

And I guess that has a lot to do with Picard and Riker's friction on the bridge, where Picard thinks Riker's afraid to attack because he lost his son years ago, and that was probably the wrong thing to say. See, it just doesn't work. I can see what they were going for with all of this, but it's too overwrought. Throughout the episode, people keep saying that their survival is all that matters now, but they keep letting their little personal dramas get in the way of that.

This is probably why Worf's scenes are the best part of the show. First, he's a Klingon, so when he does all the zany fighting moves that this show loves so much, it actually rings true. They turned Seven into a badass vigilante, and made Elnor a badass warrior monk, but Worf was a badass from Day One, so it's easier to believe. Second, he doesn't put up with Raffi's bullshit. He lets her rant and rave and be self-righteous, and then he calmly informs her that he's in charge and she's too unstable to handle this on her own. The show seems to be introducing this more contemplative side of Worf's character, like he's trying to be more mindful and patient, and that's fine, but much of what he's doing is just being the same cool, professional dude he's always been. It's too bad he's not on the Titan, because they could use a firm, steady hand at the wheel right about now.

Anyway, Worf and Raffi catch a bad guy involved in the attack she failed to stop in S3E1, but the bad guy melts during the interrogation, because he's a Changeling and they can't stay solid for more than 16 hours. Worf's exact role in this is unclear, but he claims to be working alongside Starfleet in this matter, and he got a hot tip from Odo that there's a faction of rogue Changelings who are still mad about losing the Dominion War. Since there's a Changeling saboteur aboard the Titan as well, I guess we finally have something to tie these plots together.

Overall, it's the same complaint I have about every episode. A lot of time passes, but very little actually gets done. The battle in the nebula didn't need to go on as long as it did, and Raffi seems to just slow Worf down.

Oh, I keep forgetting to bring this up, but: It's bizarre how every episode does a cold open, but then they run an opening credits sequence at the end of the episode, followed immediately by a closing credits sequence. What were they going for? It's like they couldn't pick a format so they just went with "all of the above". Just like the writers, unfortunately.

[kbc-headoffice]

Decode the Enigma of KBC Bombay: Unveiling the Elusive WhatsApp and JIO Helpline Numbers of KBC

Introduction: For years, Kaun Banega Crorepati (KBC) has captivated audiences with its engaging gameplay, emotional stories, and the chance to win life-changing amounts of money. While the show's popularity continues to soar, little is known about the behind-the-scenes operations, especially concerning the elusive KBC WhatsApp Number in Bombay and the JIO Helpline Number for the year 2024. In this blog article, we delve into the mystery, bringing you the inside scoop on these secret contact channels and even the location of the KBC Head Office in Bombay.

Unveiling the KBC WhatsApp Number Bombay: Have you ever watched KBC and wished you could be a part of the action? Well, your dream might just come true! The KBC Bombay WhatsApp Number acts as a gateway for potential contestants to enter the thrilling world of the show. While it is not publicly advertised, insiders reveal that aspiring participants can reach out on WhatsApp to register their interest and possibly secure an audition. Unfortunately, the specific KBC WhatsApp Number for Bombay remains a closely guarded secret. It is said that only a select few individuals, including the show's production team, are privy to this hidden gem. However, reaching out to official KBC social media handles or even personal connections in the industry might yield valuable insights on how to get in touch.

Decoding the KBC JIO Helpline Number 2024: With ever-evolving technology, KBC realizes the need to adapt its communication channels accordingly. As we step into the year 2024, reliance on mobile networks like JIO has grown exponentially. Keeping this in mind, KBC has established a dedicated helpline number for JIO users to address their queries, concerns, and even facilitate registrations for the show. Similar to the WhatsApp Number, the JIO Helpline Number remains confidential. However, we can speculate that it is likely shared through various JIO customer service channels, exclusive partnerships, or perhaps even promotional campaigns. Keep your eyes peeled for any announcements from KBC or JIO regarding this exciting avenue to enter the show.

KBC Head Office in Bombay: Now that we've explored the digital avenues of KBC, let's take a peek into the nerve center of this iconic game show. The KBC Head Office in Bombay serves as the command center, housing the masterminds behind this televised phenomenon. Located in the heart of bustling Mumbai, this office is the epicenter of planning, strategizing, and executing the show. While specifics about the exact address are not publicly disclosed, it is believed KBC's headquarters can be found in a prominent film studio or production house. Enthusiasts of the show might enjoy visiting popular studio complexes in Bombay, where KBC potentially resides alongside other major television productions.

Conclusion: The allure of KBC Bombay lies not only in the thrilling gameplay and awe-inspiring winnings but also in the intrigue surrounding its hidden communication channels. Although the KBC WhatsApp Number in Bombay and the JIO Helpline Number for 2024 remain shrouded in secrecy, there are ways to uncover them by exploring official social media platforms and leveraging personal connections. Whether you dream of becoming a KBC contestant or simply covet an insider's look at the show's operations, the mystique behind these contact avenues and the location of the KBC Head Office in Bombay bring an added layer of excitement to the world of KBC.

[trendagon]

Friday Night College Football Madness! Explosive Week 1 Schedule Revealed with Shocking Matchups and Bold Predictions

Friday night football is traditionally associated with high school games, but in recent years, college football has taken center stage, and the 2023 season kicks off with a bang. This opening week, known as Week 1, features an enticing lineup of six games, including a thrilling ACC conference matchup, showcasing the talents of six Power Five schools. As September begins, football enthusiasts have plenty of reasons to tune in and enjoy the action.

College Football Games on TV Today: Week 1 Schedule for Friday

Here's a rundown of the exciting matchups scheduled for Friday night. All times are Eastern, and game lines are provided by SI Sportsbook.

Howard at Eastern Michigan

Date & Time: Friday, September 1 | 6:30 p.m. TV: ESPN+ Betting Line: N/A FPI Prediction: Eastern Michigan with a commanding 98.7% chance of victory.

Central Michigan at Michigan State

Date & Time: Friday, September 1 | 7:00 p.m. TV: FS1 Betting Line: Michigan State favored by -14 FPI Prediction: Michigan State holds an 88.0% probability of winning.

Miami (OH) at Miami (FL)

Date & Time: Friday, September 1 | 7:00 p.m. TV: ACCN Betting Line: Miami (FL) favored by -16.5 FPI Prediction: Miami (FL) is expected to triumph with an 89.5% likelihood.

Louisville at Georgia Tech

Date & Time: Friday, September 1 | 7:30 p.m. TV: ESPN Betting Line: Louisville -7.5 FPI Prediction: Louisville holds a 68.1% chance of victory.

Missouri State at Kansas

Date & Time: Friday, September 1 | 8:00 p.m. TV: ESPN+ Betting Line: N/A FPI Prediction: Kansas is the favorite with a 97.1% probability of winning.

Stanford at Hawai'i

Date & Time: Friday, September 1 | 11:00 p.m. TV: CBSSN Betting Line: Stanford -3.5 FPI Prediction: Stanford with a 55.0% chance of emerging victorious.

Place Your Bets on Week 1 College Football

If you're feeling lucky and want to add some excitement to the games, consider placing a bet. Several platforms are offering enticing opportunities:

How to Stream College Football

For those who prefer to watch the games online, fuboTV provides comprehensive, live coverage of the top college football matchups. They broadcast games from major TV networks, including the SEC Network, Big Ten Network, ACC Network, and more, all without the need for a cable subscription. You can stream college football, NFL games, and other programming from any device, including your smartphone. With no contracts, hidden fees, and DVR included, FuboTV is an excellent option for watching college football for free.

College Football Rankings

As the season begins, let's take a quick look at the top 25 college football rankings according to the AP poll:

With these exciting matchups and top-ranked teams, the 2023 college football season promises to be an unforgettable one. Don't miss out on the action, and be sure to tune in to watch your favorite teams compete for glory. For more college football updates, including schedules and team information, stay tuned to SI.

[universal-poster]

From Ideas to Impact: AI Social Media Content Generation

From Ideas to Impact: AI Social Media Content Generator

Thank you for visiting the exciting realm of AI social media content generators! With this computerized grow older, social media is now a necessary conduit for businesses, influencers, and people to connect with their viewers and market their offerings. Consistently producing captivating and relevant content can be a daunting task, however. Concern not, for we have been about to set about a quest to explore the wonders of AI social media content generators. Discover how these technological marvels can transform your social media strategy, capturing attention and driving engagement like never before.

Unveiling the chance of AI Social Media Content Generators (Word Add up:

Image this: an excellent tool that harnesses the might of artificial learning ability and normal vocabulary processing to produce engaging content modify-manufactured for social media platforms. Key in AI social media content generators-a game title-transforming creativity. These ingenious creations examine substantial data packages, including trending topics, popular search phrases, and customer preferences, to generate articles that captivates and resonates along with your potential audience. From magnetic captions to informative blog posts and attention-commanding headlines, AI social media content generators deliver content that instructions interest and sets off engagement.

The Advantages of AI Social Media Content Generators (Word Count:

2.1 Time and Cost Productivity:

In this particular speedy-paced world, time is actually a cherished useful resource, and AI social media content generators make sure you make best use of it. These wonders of technology save you valuable time and resources, by automating the content creation process. Not any longer are you gonna be burdened by limitless hrs invested brainstorming suggestions or the hassle of employing information designers. Rather, center on vital aspects of your social media technique, like encouraging engagement and looking after your online community.

2.2 Captivating and Consistency Articles:

Consistency varieties familiarity, and familiarity dog breeds loyalty. AI social media content generators empower anyone to maintain a steady flow of captivating content material, leaving behind no space for gaps or lulls in your putting up schedule. The made information boasts the ability to interact with your target audience, provoking wants, shares, and responses. Consistency, coupled with compelling content material, collections the period for achievement from the electronic realm.

2.3 Personalization and Targeting:

Uncover the secret to winning your audience's hearts and minds by way of custom made content. AI sets of rules scrutinize customer information, delving deeply inside their interests, demographics, and behavioral styles. Using these invaluable information, AI social media content generators conjure articles that resonates along with your target audience, creating greater conversions and engagement. The wonder is based on giving tailored activities that depart a lasting influence, guaranteeing an amazing return for your personal social media efforts.

Decoding the interior Workings of AI Social Media Content Generators (Term Count up:

Marvel with the behind-the-scenes prowess of AI social media content generators. Run with a effective mixture of machine studying, all-natural language finalizing, and information analysis, these clever tools give childbirth to impressive content. They trawl via enormous amounts of information from social media systems, information options, and related stores, diligently discovering patterns, well-liked topics, and promising developments. Equipped with this cherish trove of knowledge, the AI sets of rules create content that harmonizes with all the actually-developing passions of your own target market.

Ongoing development is in the middle of such AI types. They study from previous user and performance responses, consistently honing their information era features. Some AI social media content generators even give modification options, letting you okay-track the created content material to position easily with your brand's tone, style, and beliefs.

Greatest Techniques: Harmonizing AI and Human Feel (Word Count up:

4.1 The Fusion of Man Creativeness:

Although AI social media content generators are effective allies, the heart and soul of human being creativeness need to not be forsaken. Take advantage of the created articles as being a firm foundation, a springboard to your imaginative soul. Infuse it with the personalizedtouch and creativity, and unique views, breathing existence to the articles and imparting it with an credibility that resonates with the market.

4.2 The strength of Normal Review and Optimizing:

AI algorithms, although amazingly smart, may not constantly knowledge the complexities of the target market flawlessly. On a regular basis review the generated information, carefully okay-tuning and refining it to guarantee it aligns harmoniously with your brand rules. Keep it clean, engaging, and customized in your audience's needs.

4.3 Embrace the Pulse of Trends and News:

To really discover the potential for AI social media content generators, remain attuned on the actually-switching tides of styles and media in your sector. By immersing yourself in the currents of knowledge, you guide the AI algorithms, ensuring the content they generate remains relevant and timely, captivating your audience's attention.

Conclusion (Expression Count:

The dawn of AI social media content generators heralds a paradigm shift in how businesses and individuals method social media marketing. These scientific marvels streamline information design, save your time and solutions, and produce custom made, stimulating content. Accept this revolution, striking a harmonious stability among automation and individual ingenuity. With AI social media content generators when your respected allies, your quest for an indomitable social media existence will probably be crowned with success.

[danc3swithwolves]

Transforming Your Social Media Presence with AI-Generated Content

Ignite Your Social Media Strategy with AI-Generated Content

Thank you for visiting the interesting arena of AI social media content generators! In this electronic digital age group, social media is becoming an essential conduit for businesses, influencers, and folks in order to connect with their viewers and encourage their choices. However, consistently producing captivating and relevant content can be a daunting task. Concern not, for we are intending to begin a trip to explore the miracles of AI social media content generators. Capturing attention and driving engagement like never before.

, discover how these technological marvels can transform your social media strategy>

Unveiling the chance of AI Social Media Content Generators (Phrase Matter:

Picture this: an excellent resource that harnesses the may of synthetic intellect and natural vocabulary handling to generate compelling content material modify-made for social media websites. Enter AI social media content generators-a game-altering creativity. These ingenious projects evaluate substantial info units, which include trending issues, well-known key phrases, and user personal preferences, to produce information that intrigues and resonates together with your target market. From magnetic captions to helpful weblog attention and posts-commanding headlines, AI social media content generators provide content that directions consideration and sets off engagement.

The Advantages of AI Social Media Content Generators (Phrase Count:

2.1 Cost and Time Efficiency:

With this quickly-paced planet, time can be a precious resource, and AI social media content generators be sure you take full advantage of it. By automating the content creation process, these wonders of technology save you valuable time and resources. Will no longer are you burdened by endless hrs put in brainstorming concepts or the irritation of selecting information inventors. Instead, center on vital components of your social media strategy, such as encouraging proposal and looking after your web group.

2.2 Consistency and Captivating Content:

Regularity dog breeds familiarity, and familiarity varieties commitment. AI social media content generators inspire you to maintain a steady flow of captivating content material, leaving behind no area for spaces or lulls within your publishing schedule. The generated content material offers the power to engage your audience, provoking wants, offers, and responses. Uniformity, put together with compelling content material, packages the point for fulfillment within the digital kingdom.

2.3 Targeting and Personalization:

Open the key to winning your audience's hearts and minds by way of customized content. AI sets of rules scrutinize user data, diving serious within their pursuits, demographics, and behavior patterns. Using these invaluable information, AI social media content generators conjure information that resonates along with your potential audience, creating improved conversions and engagement. The magic is based on supplying designed experiences that abandon a long lasting influence, making certain an outstanding return on investment for your social media efforts.

Decoding the interior Functions of AI Social Media Content Generators (Word Add up:

Wonder in the behind-the-moments expertise of AI social media content generators. Powered with a strong combination of unit understanding, normal words digesting, and data evaluation, these ingenious tools give childbirth to remarkable content material. They trawl by way of immense numbers of data from social media programs, reports sources, and pertinent outlets, meticulously figuring out styles, popular issues, and rising trends. Armed with this treasure trove of knowledge, the AI algorithms produce information that harmonizes together with the actually-changing interests of the potential audience.

Ongoing improvement is in the middle of these AI designs. They study from past performance and user comments, continuously sharpening their content material age group capabilities. Some AI social media content generators even give changes options, letting you good-track the generated articles to align effortlessly with the brand's tone, fashion, and principles.

Finest Procedures: Harmonizing AI and Human being Contact (Word Count up:

4.1 The Combination of Human being Imagination:

Whilst AI social media content generators are strong allies, the essence of human being creativity have to do not be forsaken. Utilize the made content material like a solid foundation, a springboard to your creative mindset. Infuse it with the individualcreativity and touch, and unique views, respiration lifestyle in to the information and providing it with the credibility that resonates with your viewers.

4.2 The Power of Standard Review and Optimisation:

AI algorithms, although amazingly smart, might not always understand the intricacies of your target audience completely. Routinely review the made content, meticulously good-adjusting and optimizing it to make sure it aligns harmoniously along with your brand name guidelines. Ensure that it stays fresh, interesting, and customized to your audience's needs.

4.3 Accept the Heartbeat of News and Trends:

To actually uncover the potential for AI social media content generators, keep attuned towards the actually-switching tides of tendencies and reports within your industry. You guide the AI algorithms, ensuring the content they generate remains timely and relevant, captivating your audience's attention.

, by immersing yourself in the currents of knowledge>

Bottom line (Phrase Count up:

The daybreak of AI social media content generators heralds a paradigm change in how businesses and individuals method social media advertising and marketing. These scientific marvels enhance articles development, save time and resources, and supply individualized, fascinating articles. Accept this emerging trend, stunning a beneficial harmony among automation and individual ingenuity. With AI social media content generators as your reliable allies, your pursuit to have an indomitable social media presence will probably be crowned with accomplishment.

[kapilindmatka]

Unveiling the World of Matka Boss: A Journey Into the Thrilling Realm ofSatta Matka

Introduction:

In the realm of gambling and chance, there exists a game that has captured the imagination of millions - Satta Matka. And at the center of this intriguing world stands the enigmatic figure known as the "Matka Boss." Today, we embark on a journey to explore the secrets, the allure, and the risks associated with this fascinating realm.

The Origin of Satta Matka:

To truly understand the significance of the Matka Boss, we must delve into the origins of Satta Matka. Emerging in the 1960s in the bustling city of Mumbai, Satta Matka was a form of lottery that involved betting on the opening and closing rates of cotton traded on the New York Cotton Exchange. Over time, it evolved into a full-fledged gambling phenomenon, captivating the masses with its blend of luck, strategy, and suspense.

The Role of the Matka Boss:

In the intricate web of Satta Matka, the Matka Boss assumes a central role. Often an experienced and respected figure within the gambling community, the Matka Boss oversees the operations, sets the rules, and holds the key to the fortunes of the players. Their wisdom, intuition, and understanding of the game are essential in maintaining the balance between risk and reward.

The Aura of Mystery:

The Matka Boss is shrouded in an aura of mystery, often operating from hidden locations and communicating through trusted channels. This secrecy adds to the allure of the game, drawing players into a world where the unknown holds both excitement and danger. The enigmatic figure of the Matka Boss becomes a symbol of power and control, commanding respect and admiration from those immersed in the game.

The Thrill of the Game:

Satta Matka, with its blend of chance and strategy, offers an unparalleled thrill to its participants. The anticipation of the results, the adrenaline rush of placing bets, and the euphoria of a triumphant win create an addictive allure that keeps players coming back for more. The Matka Boss, with their ability to guide and manipulate the game, becomes a key player in this intoxicating experience.

The Risks Involved:

While the world of Satta Matka may seem enticing, it is essential to acknowledge the inherent risks involved. The pursuit of fortune can easily lead to financial losses and emotional distress. It is crucial for players to approach the game with caution, set limits, and prioritize responsible gambling practices. Understanding the role of the Matka Boss also becomes crucial in navigating this realm wisely.

Conclusion:

In the captivating world of Satta Matka, the Matka Boss stands as a figure of intrigue and power. Their influence shapes the game, and their wisdom guides the players. However, it is essential to approach this realm with caution, recognizing the risks involved and embracing responsible gambling practices. As we conclude our journey, let us remember that while the allure of Satta Matka is undeniable, it is ultimately the players who hold the power to shape their destiny.

Disclaimer: This blog is purely informative and does not endorse or encourage participation in gambling or illegal activities. It is important to adhere to the laws and regulations of your jurisdiction.

[atozphantomsquadron]

Chapter Sixteen: Final Lull

August 24th

            This is my last chance to make sure these people are ready to fight. It’s their last shot to show me what they’ve got.

            Today’s training session moves along almost too quickly, with our forces blasting away at each other trying to capture the flag. I’ve arranged this exercise for the entire Attack division, to train them to go after the main command center, and to improvise a means to get there using their powers. I’m quite satisfied with the work I’m seeing out there, especially from the SSA-trained fighters. Trent and Teresa are working well as a coherent team: Teresa sets up her opponents while Trent knocks them down.

            I wouldn’t expect less from those two. When they arrived, they had been in a relationship while brainwashed in the SSA, a relationship they chose to continue. Now after a month training in the use of their powers, I’m very happy in how they use each other to complement attacks. The same is true of several small teams within the Attack division, who’ve found they have compatible supernatural abilities and have started creating combined attacks.

            My thoughts are interrupted when I hear a whoop rise from one end of the field. I look toward my left and see that Isaac Portland is holding up and waving the green flag, the one for the opposing side. The game is over. I draw everyone’s attention with applause, as the setting sun begins to frame them all in tones of gold and orange.

            “Well done, everyone. I’ve seen a lot of progress being made since those first few days. You’re definitely ready to fight.”

            “And win, right?” one voice calls out from the middle of the crowd.

            Can I promise them that? I have a moment of doubt, which doesn’t last very long. “Fight and win!”

            A loud cheer erupts from the group. I raise my hands and motion for quiet.

            “Folks, as you’ve probably heard, in three days’ time we are taking the fight directly to the SSA. I was tasked with making sure all of you were fully able to use your abilities, and carry out our battle plan to your fullest capability. I’m happy to report that you all have passed this test. All of you have learned methods of using your powers that stretch every definition of them. You’ve made me proud in this regard.”

            Another cheer. They won’t like the next part of this speech … I don’t even like it, and I’ve been rehearsing it for days.

            “I’m not going to lie to you. Some of you will go into battle and never return. Many of you may be hurt in one way or another. Just know that you sacrifice yourselves for a greater cause, for a greater mission. By fighting, you ensure that the New Empire of America can not, and by God will not, ever target another supernatural for extermination. By fighting, you ensure that a once free nation will become free once more, that the free world will remain free of the Regents’ tyranny. By laying your lives on the line, you will be ensuring that others may live.”

            Quiet murmurs rustle through the crowd.

            “I will be out there fighting alongside you all. I will take the risk with you, as will all of your trainers and allies. When this battle ends, we shall all stand together in the glow of justice served!”

            My wings unfurl as I enunciate the final words of my speech. This causes another eruption of cheers.

            I’m so uncomfortable right now …

            I dismiss the assemblage and turn around. Behind me, William and Michi are applauding as well.

            “Great speech, Alanna,” William says kind of playfully.

            “Awe-inspiring!” Michi chimes.

            “Oh shut up, guys, you know I hate speaking.” I take my best friend and my fiancé under my arms in a group hug and lead them back inside the Ranch house. Once inside, though, they team up and pull me aside.

            “Listen, we had an idea, and we wanted to know if you’d be in with us,” Michi starts out.

            “I’m listening.”

            William smiles. “We’d like to throw a birthday party for your mom. I know it’s the night before we’re going to fight, but it’ll be a chance for everyone to have one last night of fun before we all go into danger.”

            My mind races back in time, to three years ago and another impromptu birthday party organized by William, only that time it was my sixteenth.

            Things have gone so far since then … it’s one of my happiest memories of recent times.

            I twist the ring gently. “Sure. I think it’s a great idea.”

            Michi hugs me tightly. “Great! Let me tell Mom then!” She runs off in the general direction of the dining room, leaving me and William alone.

            “Just like a few years ago,” I idly comment.

            “Yes it is, except this time we have a greater celebration. Your family is reunited, that’s reason enough for a party, but there’s also the birthday, and the wedding …”

            Wait, wedding?! “William, is there something you’re not telling me …?”             “Huh?” He seems genuinely confused. “Oh, you mean …” He points back and forth between the two of us. I have to admit, it’s kind of cute to make him this uncomfortable. “Sorry, I should’ve explained more. Apparently Trent and Teresa want to get married before the battle.”

            I nod knowingly. “I certainly understand that. I’ll be more than happy to share Mom’s birthday party with a wedding reception.”

            William returns my smile with a gentle kiss. “I’d better help the Salems get things ready. It’s going to be a huge party.” He stands up, but lingers gently while holding my hand in his, lightly fingering the ring on my finger. “I love you, Alanna.”

            I squeeze his hand. “I love you too.” He runs off, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a roaring fireplace.

            We’re only three days out from a conflict … one that we’re looking for, a fight we’re trying to pick … that will determine the fate of an entire population of people on the face of the planet. Should we fail, should we fall, there’s nothing to stop Avalon from dying, and all supernaturals around the world from joining its fate.

            I look up at a mirror positioned above the mantel of the fireplace. There I am, the girl with the wings and the Sword. The one that Gabe expects to lead everyone to victory; the girl who only four years ago was more concerned with passing her midterm math test than commanding an army. My eyes focus on the features of my face, to look for any signs that this time has taken its toll on me. Dark circles are threatening beneath my eyes, no doubt from the long sleepless nights I’ve endured. I look a little skinnier than I did before the SSA took Mom, possibly a result of fasting for eighteen days in the Inferno but I think it’s more likely because stress is the ultimate diet drug.

            I take a closer look at myself. This is the girl that William fell in love with so many years ago, on a dance floor in Oklahoma City. This is the face he kisses almost every day and every night. This is the woman he asked to marry him.

            Most importantly, this is the girl who agreed to it.

            So much change has taken place, it’s enough to make a person’s head spin right off their shoulders. I clutch the Sword’s hilt tightly, feeling its reassuring heft, its slightly warm metallic feel under my hand. This is my birthright, along with my wings. These make me who I am in the eyes of my forces, and in the eyes of those who would destroy me.

            But they’re not all there is to me. These are merely small symbols, compared to the heart and soul who wields them.

            In three days, this girl might be gone, along with every other supernatural. In three days, this girl might be triumphant, and lead us all into a new era without the New Empire of America.

            However it plays out, though, one thing is clear. No matter what happens to me, or to William or Michi or any of us, I will not let this conflict change who I am at heart. I will not allow this fight to turn me into that which I wage war against. I will stay true to my heart, to my friends, to those that I love dearly.

            One way or another, I’ll be with Mom and Dad … and William … forever.

August 26th

            There’s only a short training session this morning, and thankfully I’m not the one who’s leading it. Michi has the mages one last time, putting them through their paces. She’s training them this morning to do collaborative spells, which can do anything from blast opponents to raise shields. That’s what she tells me, anyway.

            My mind is a million miles away from battle preparations. I’m more concerned with happy things this morning, and I’m helping Aunt Kitty and Uncle Cyrus with the last preparations for today’s party. We’re just putting up the last of the crepe streamers across the ceiling of the living room when Michi rushes in.

            “We’re done for the day!”

            I smile down at her. “Great, can you give us a hand here?”

            She smirks and raises her gauntleted hand. “Lift.”

            The remaining coils of crepe streamers rise off of the floor, unroll, and create festive criss-crosses across the ceiling. I climb down off of the ladder I’m using and join Michi at ground level.

            “Looks good.”

            “It better, this is going to be the party of the century and I don’t want it to be in a dull looking room.”

            I hug Michi, knowing she means only the best. “It won’t be, I’m confident of that.”

            Michi grins and turns back to decorating, lifting more streamers off the floor. I go into the kitchen, where Aunt Kitty’s standing over a stove.

            “Anything I can do to help?” I offer.

            She looks back at me and smiles. “Not much, really, I’m just about done here. Why don’t you go get your folks and bring ‘em out? We’ll be getting started in a few.”

            I’m kind of depressed that I’m not able to help more, but I acquiesce, heading down the hallway to Mom and Dad’s room. I hear their voices as I approach the cracked-open door.

            “… they’re going to be outmatched, aren’t they?”

            Mom’s question worries me, but Dad comes in and that makes matters worse. “Unfortunately. I’m afraid for them all, but especially for Alanna. I hope she’s able to handle defeat.”

            “She’s become a very confident young woman.”

            “I agree, but I think sometimes she expects to win every time.” Dad sighs deeply. “I just want her to be okay, to survive this. There must be a Guardsman, no matter what.”

            I close my eyes with my hand on the door, ready to push it open. I don’t want to be too emotional.

            Mom’s voice comes back and pushes me over the emotional ledge. “She will, Cole. She’ll make it. She’s a Sharpe, after all, and your family … our family … has a habit of being incredibly hard to kill.”

            Even as tears threaten, I smile because Mom’s so confident in me. Thank you, Mom. I push the door open gently while knocking on it. “Hey guys, they’re ready for you.”

            Mom and Dad turn and look at me. They’ve been cuddling on the edge of the bed, it looks like for a while. Mom smiles at me. “We’re coming, Alanna.” They both stand up and come up to me, opening the door wider.

            We walk down the hallway arm-in-arm, the three of us, with Mom and Dad on either side of me. I can’t help but feel like I’m walking this corridor for the last time …

            When we reach the end of the hallway, coming out into the dining room, the place is filled from wall to wall with our supernatural forces, and even some of the ones who were too badly hurt to contribute to the fight. All of them raise a cheer as we enter.

            Then it occurs to me, next to none of these people has seen Mom yet.

            “Ladies and gentlemen,” Michi’s voice rises above the din, “allow me to introduce to you the Sharpe family! Cole Sharpe, the Penitent! Ariel Sharpe, the dragon! And Alanna Sharpe, the Guardsman!”

            A loud cheer rises from the entire group, followed by a mass singing of “Happy Birthday” to Mom. The mood is immediately festive, and I know it’s only going to get more so the longer this party goes on.

            When the din has settled, a more reverent mood rushes over the entire crowd as another group of people step out of the hallway. We quickly move aside as Trent and Teresa, dressed in the best wedding regalia they could find at the Ranch, step past, walking down an improvised aisle to the end where Gabe waits, a small book in his hand. They stop at the end, before Gabe, who opens the book and begins officiating their wedding.

            It’s a very simple, heartfelt ceremony. I look around me and see a few other couples. Michi’s in a corner, hugging herself and clearly missing Fahaian. Mom and Dad stand next to me, their hands clutched together, looking lost in memory. I feel a warm presence walk up on my other side, and soon William’s hand has wrapped around my own, close to me. All attention, though, is firmly on the couple at the front.

            “Do you, Trent Howard Gracin, take this woman, Teresa Katherine Iles, as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, ‘til death do you part?”

            I get a chill at the last words Gabe intones. Death could be a day away …

            Trent takes a deep breath, his eyes focused on Teresa. “I do.”

            Gabe smiles widely. “And do you, Teresa Katherine Iles, take this man, Trent Howard Gracin, as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, ‘til death do you part?”

            Teresa looks as nervous as anyone ever has, to my eye. She’s clearly thinking like I am, but those thoughts are being overridden by her feelings for Trent. She clutches his hands a little tighter and whispers, “I do.”

            Gabe closes the book. “Then therefore by the power vested in me by my Employer, by the Hidden-In-Plain-Sight Ranch, and by the forces of life, I proclaim you to be husband and wife, as testified by all witnesses present.” He does something unusual for him … wraps his arms around both Trent and Teresa, giving them a gentle hug, before turning them around to face the group. “Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Trent and Teresa Gracin!”

            More cheering erupts from all of us.

            “Oh, whoops, one last thing,” Gabe interrupts over the din. “You may now kiss the bride!”

            Trent pulls Teresa close to him, kissing her as best as he can with his insectoid face. When the two of them separate, he exhales a brief puff of frosty breath. The crowd goes even crazier.

            The party continues as a celebration, both of Mom and the newly married couple. A lot of festive talk goes around, a lot of music is played, and an incredible amount of dancing livens up the event. I make my way through the group, getting handshakes and brief conversation, but making sure to check in on some particular people.

            One person I check on is Ward Gregory, the White House spokesman we “captured.” He seems to be adjusting well, having taken on the job of housekeeping around the Ranch house. He tells me that he’s developed a rapport with Aunt Kitty, who’s taken him under her wing and apparently started teaching him to shoot, something he wasn’t sure he could do. He seems awfully happy to be away from the Regents, almost like he was conscripted or coerced into being their spokesman.

            That seems so much like the Regents.

            Another individual I check in with is Samuel Urich, who William tells me is developing into a fine field medic. He takes the opportunity to apologize to me for our first contentious meeting, and for doubting my supernatural abilities. While I appreciate the sentiment, it feels to me like I don’t really need it … if he does his job during the battle tomorrow and nobody dies, that will be apology enough for me. He offers me a drink, but I politely decline. My eyes scan the room, looking around at the men’s faces.

            There he is. William is chatting with Dad and Uncle Cyrus along one wall. They seem to be having a good time, at least. I look to another side of the room, and there’s Aunt Kitty and Mom, catching up on life in general. Trent and Teresa spin at the center of the room, having their first dance. Michi sits in a corner, nursing a tall drink.

            I think she could use someone to talk to.

            I cross the room, politely pushing my way through thick crowds of people, until I finally reach Michi. She takes a sip from her glass, which smells like it contains the world’s most potent margarita.

            “Great party, huh?” She looks drunk already.

            “Yeah, it’s a blast.” I sit down next to my best friend. “Are you missing him?”

            “What the hell do you think?” she slurs. “Here there’s a wedding going on, and all the couples around, and your folks, and my folks, and you and William … and here I am with a goddamn drink as my company and that’s it!” She emphasizes her point by hovering the gauntleted hand over the glass. Sparks appear around it, then it’s full again.

            “You’re drunk, Michi.”

            “You’re drunk right I’m damn,” she stumbles. She gets a little weepy. “I miss Fahaian … he should be here now, we should be together …”

            She leans her head on my shoulder. I brush her hair gently away from her face. “It’s all right. He promised you he’d be back. King’s promise, remember?”

            Her eyes are clearly showing her intoxication, they aren’t even both looking in the same direction. “Well, what good does that do me right now? I got no boyfriend, everybody else is getting action …” She falls over on me. “Jeezus, my balance sucks ass tonight.”

            I chuckle softly. “You’re drunk, Michi. It does things to your balance.”

            She takes another swig of the margarita. “How d’you know? I never seen you drink in m’life!”

            “Because I don’t like to drink, that’s why.” I put an arm around Michi’s shoulders, as she continues to slump against me. “Listen, don’t get too down about it. Fahaian promised to be back. I trust him, don’t you?”

            She whimpers slightly in my embrace. Finally she relents. “Yeah, I guess …”

            “So trust him. He’ll be back, he said he would be. He’s bringing help. He’s probably helping us out right now.” I hug her tightly. “The next wedding we’ll be going to is gonna be yours, Michi, I promise.”

            She smiles very drunkenly, beaming at me with half-opened eyes. “Thanks, Alanna.” Her stomach rumbles. She stands up and wobbles slightly. “If you’ll excuse me, I hafta go puke now.” She tries to make her way quickly through the crowd, but it’s difficult when she’s stumbling all over the place. I don’t want to laugh, but I can’t help it.

            William makes his way back over to my side. “Is she missing him?”

            I nod. “She started off missing him, but in about fifteen minutes she’ll be missing her lunch, too.” I look up at my fiancé. “What about you, how do you feel?”

            He wraps his arm around me. “Scared, actually.”

            My mood turns instantly. “What are you scared of?”

            “I imagine the same thing you’re scared of. Death. Dying. Seeing all my friends die around me.” He clutches me tighter. “Losing you.”

            I lean into his chest, my own arms around him. “I can understand that, I fear the same things.” Our eyes meet. “I want to say, though, that my existence is whole because you’re in my life.”

            His eyes, which were starting to darken again, come back from the brink. “Really? I’m glad for that, because my life is complete with you, as well.” He brings his hand down to mine, to touch the ring again. “I want you to know, before any battle happens, before we go into harm’s way … that no matter what I want to spend eternity with you.”

            My heart leaps into my throat. It’s pounding so hard I’m surprised he can’t hear it. I wrap both of my hands around his and start leading him out of the party. We make our way down the darkened hallway, toward my room. Just outside the door, I pull William into a tight embrace, yanking myself up to wrap my arms around his neck. Our lips meet in the darkness … desperate, hungry.  Our bodies are acting on their own volition, on an impulse we’ve fought for so long but is finding its purpose in being tonight.

            We could die tomorrow.

            He carries me into the room, never once letting go of our kiss. My heart continues its desperate, passionate rhythm.  Clothes drop off of each other, as our hands explore each other’s secrets. We stagger our way over to the bed, our clinch only growing needier. William’s lips move to places I’ve never known could feel so incredible. Our desire is unstoppable. I feel his presence deeply within my being, overwhelming, folding me into one existence with this man I love so dearly.

            Our momentum is building.

            I’m atop him, writhing, our love the only thing keeping me sane. He clutches me, holding me tight to him, moving with me. My pulse speeds up beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. At the last moment, when everything reaches its peak and a deep, passionate warmth washes over my body, I let out a yelp and my wings unfurl out of reflex, dipping and rising with my quick, panting breaths.

            God, I just want to spend forever here, like this.

            My strength falters, and I collapse down on top of William, still joined with him, both of us desperate to catch our breath. Our eyes meet in the darkness. In his eyes is a light that I’ve never seen before … the total opposite of the darkness in them when we first met long ago.

            He knows joy now, as I do as well.

            My hand traces around his face, touching him gently, along his facial features, his scar, his hair. My fingers want to remember his face like this, forever. I feel the heat of his body against mine, the sweat cooling on our skin.

            He lifts his head and kisses me gently, lovingly. “This moment is perfect.” He wraps his arms around me.

            “I agree.” I smile up at him. “Stay with me tonight, William, just like this. Tonight and every night, until the end of the world and beyond.”

            He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and smiles back at me. “I promise, Alanna. I will.”

            I slide down off of him, and we cuddle close and tight to each other, lying beneath the blankets of my bed, until sleep finally overtakes us. My last thought as I slip into slumber stays with the positive.

            We’re going to win. We have to win. This love is too perfect to lose.

August 27th

            I’m reluctant to get out of bed this morning, knowing what’s coming, and knowing what I’m leaving behind. The prone form of William, my beloved, my fiancé, is keeping me warm and safe right now. Why should I leave this?

            Because every supernatural on the planet is depending on you, my mind responds. Now get up and take your responsibility!

            I sit up and stretch my spine, which is surprised when a hand gently rubs up and down it. I look over and see that William is awake as well. He’s smiling widely up at me.

            “Heck of a night, wasn’t it?”

            I playfully slap his thigh. “You know it, mister.” I turn and lay down next to him one more time, to kiss him deeply. “There’ll be more where that came from afterward, I promise.”

            We both smile at each other. This is probably going to be our last moment of enjoyment for some time, so we’d better make the most of it.

            Once we’re out of bed and dressed, we make our way hand-in-hand to the living room. To my surprise, Dad intercepts us in the hallway. He doesn’t say a word at first, simply looking the two of us over.

When it seems obvious that this silent treatment is making William squirm, Dad finally relents and smiles. “Why don’t you go on ahead, William? I need to talk to Alanna for a minute.” He motions for me to follow him into his and Mom’s room.

“It’s okay, Alanna, I’ll meet you there.” William kisses me and keeps walking down the hallway. Dad motions again, and I follow him into the room.

To my surprise, there’s no comment about me and William coming out of my room together, no suspicions voiced about what we were doing. Instead, it’s just me and Dad alone in his room, where he’s rummaging through a chest of drawers next to the bed.

“Dad?” I helpfuly chime.

He looks up and smiles. “Sit down, Alanna. We need to have a talk … don’t worry, it’s nothing too bad.”

My heart is thrumming hard, but I sit down on the bed next to Dad. Evidently he finally finds what he’s looking for, as he turns back toward me, something enclosed in his hand.

“Things are going to get very dangerous soon, so I have something I need to tell you, and to give to you.” Dad motions toward his closed hand. “Let me give this to you first. It’s something I’ve kept for a long time, and it’s only right you should have it.”

Dad takes one of my hands in his free one, and lays the item in his closed hand into my palm. My fingers close around the item … it’s cold and metallic, and heavy. When Dad moves his hand, I find that he’s given me a large, military-style tactical watch with a metal band.

“What is this?”

He smiles. “This watch is a modern Sharpe heirloom. I received it from my father … your grandfather Kenneth, whose grave we visited. He got it from his father, your great-grandfather, as an inheritance after he died in World War II.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I thought the World War II Guardsman gave the Sword to my grandfather.”

“He did, actually. Dad’s father wasn’t the Guardsman, the Sword belonged to his uncle Jefferson, but Jefferson never had any descendants … he was gay, you see … so he tapped my dad as the new Swordbearer once he left the Army.”

I nod solemnly. “Thanks, Dad.”

Dad pulls me into his arms. “There’s one other thing I want to tell you, Alanna. In the short time you’ve held the Sword, that you’ve been the Guardswoman, I can easily see that you’ve done many, many great things with the power.”

My eyes are warming up.

“Among those great things, you rescued both myself and your mother. For this, there’s no amount of thanks that would ever be enough. I just want to let you know, before it’s too late …” He strokes my hair and kisses my forehead gently. “… that I’m extremely proud of you, and that in my eyes, you have surpassed me as the Guardsman. I trust the future of the world to no one more than I do to you.”

I clutch Dad tightly. So much of my existence in the last few years has been dedicated to finding this man, to bringing him home, to returning his soul to him … I’m only now realizing the exact breadth and depth of how much I missed having him in my life. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Dad kisses the top of my head. “Oh no, Alanna. Thank you.” He squeezes me gently one last time, then stands up and leaves the room. I stand up to follow, but as I walk out toward the hallway I hook the watch through the belt of the Sword’s scabbard. I will carry both of my family’s symbols … the ancient one and the modern one … into this final battle.

When I get into the dining room, Aunt Kitty and Uncle Cyrus are already there, along with Mom and Dad. They wave us over to them.

            “Guys, here’s the plan,” Uncle Cyrus intones. “This morning, I’m moving the Ranch to the forecast location outside of Boise. That’s when the Attack division’s going to make their move. Michika’s mages will set up a perimeter shield, which should prevent any SSA troops from entering but won’t stop any powers from escaping, all the better for us.”

            Dad clears his throat. “While this is going on, Alanna, you and I will be standing at the door of the Ranch house. If any agents come through the shield, it’ll be up to us to stop them.”

            “Non-lethal whenever possible,” I insist. “The rank-and-file SSA agents are only doing their jobs they’re forced to do, so there’s no need for excessive bloodshed.”

            Dad nods. “As you wish, Alanna.” I can tell he’s clearly not happy, and that’s the military man in him, but that’s the only way I know how to fight this war.

            “Where is Michi, anyway?” I ask.

            Aunt Kitty points her thumb behind her. I look over her shoulder and see Michi, lying on a nearby couch, an ice pack on her head. Every so often she moans.

            “Michika had a little too much to drink last night, and now she’s paying the price,” Uncle Cyrus intones.

            “She got shitfaced,” Aunt Kitty confirms.

            Poor girl. “Is she going to be in any shape to fight?”

            “She will,” Uncle Cyrus confirms. “Give me about an hour with her and she’ll be fighting fit.”

            “All right,” I respond. “William, I’ll need you to set up your field hospital as soon as possible. I don’t doubt we’re going to see a lot of casualties probably within the first hour.”

            William nods and squeezes my hand. “You can count on me.”

            “Excellent,” Uncle Cyrus responds. “We’ll get this show on the road in about three hours. Everyone get whatever you want kept nailed down around the house in preparation for the spell.”

            Uncle Cyrus and Aunt Kitty stand up and attend to business … Aunt Kitty around the room, Uncle Cyrus with Michi … leaving me with Mom, Dad, and William.

            “This is it,” I try to start conversation with.

            “Yeah,” Dad mutters. “I just hope that we’re ready for what Gabe wants us to do.”

            I take a deep breath. “So do I, believe me.” I turn to Mom. “Will you be able to fight with us?”

            She nods serenely. “Alanna, I’ve been held against my will for three years by the regime we are going to fight today. You can count on me to give it all I’ve got.”

            I’m happy to hear that. Impulsively, I go over to my parents and hug them both tightly. “Both of you stay safe, okay?”

            They don’t respond, they simply continue to hug me. They can’t promise me they’ll be safe, not when this is what they did as a living long ago.

            The next three hours are spent gathering our troops, getting them to their positions, securing all the loose items within the Ranch house, and speeding up Michi’s recovery from her hangover. The time moves almost too quickly. Before I’m aware of it, Uncle Cyrus is calling for everyone to come in the house.

            “Folks, this is it. Hang on to something!” Uncle Cyrus clutches a wall and closes his eyes, focusing the spell around him and the land we stand on. One hand clutches a table that’s been bolted to the floor. The other one grabs on William and refuses to let go.

            The floor lurches underneath us, as the Ranch lifts off of the ground, leaving Alberta behind. I remember the feeling of this spell, that it feels like a rocket taking off. I clutch to William tightly, looking over to him.

            God, if You can only keep one person safe and alive in this conflict, let it be this man!

            Just as suddenly as it lifted off, the Ranch begins a descent. With a shuddering thud, we finally reach the ground. We all look around at each other.

            “Everyone safe?” I call out.

            Several responses around the room confirm that everyone came through alive and well. My moment of relief is broken, however, when gunfire erupts outside the Ranch house.

            “THIS IS THE SUPERNATURAL SUPPRESSION AGENCY! YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE TO SURRENDER! AFTER THAT, WE WILL ATTACK!”

            Oh no …

            I rush over to one of the windows, looking toward the Ranch fence. What greets my eyes is a thick, pulsating line of blueshirts, several of which with weapons drawn and pointed toward the house. My heart begins to drop as the realization sets in.

            We were never going to ambush them. They’re ambushing us!

[kbc-headoffice]

Decode the Enigma of KBC Bombay: Unveiling the Elusive WhatsApp and JIO Helpline Numbers of KBC

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