#East Wind Rain Company

[oldschoolfrp]

Princess Ryan's Space Marines, William Lindsay box art for Mark McLaughlin's game of squad combat in the 23rd century, East Wind Rain Co, 1986. This first edition of the game included 48 space marines and 4 vehicles in 1/285 microarmor scale, all cast in lead by SIMTAC.

[ltwilliammowett]

Lieutenant! Can you tell us about Cape Horn and why it was so dangerous?

Of course I would,

So let's get to the location:

Cape Horn is located at 55° 59′ south latitude and 67° 17′ west longitude. The headland is located on the rocky island of Isla Hornos (Horn Island, not to be confused with the Horn Islands in Micronesia, also discovered by Schoutens), which belongs to Chile, and is the southernmost point in the Tierra del Fuego archipelago. Like the southernmost 2,000 kilometres of South America, it lies in the cold Antarctic circumpolar current. Unlike South Africa, which is twenty degrees further north with the warm Agulhas Current, Tierra del Fuego is never reached by a warm Atlantic current (Brazil Current). Instead, the cold polar current (Falkland Current) reaches as far as the Río de la Plata in the southern summer and as far as southern Brazil in the winter, meaning that Cape Horn is under the influence of a large-scale subpolar current all year round.

The air temperature at Cape Horn is almost identical to the water temperature all year round - day and night - which is 8 °C in January and 5 °C in July. During the day, it rarely gets warmer than 12-13 °C. There are only occasional frosts in winter and it almost never snows, although it rains over 280 days a year.

With few exceptions, the wind blows from the western half of the compass rose all year round; easterly winds are very rare. However, the wind force in the sea area around the Cape tends to be lower than in the neighbouring south-east Pacific and off the Chilean coast near the Strait of Magellan, for example, where there is always one wind force more and twice as much chance of storms. Nevertheless, the wind blows almost constantly in summer (January) with at least five Beaufort, but only once a month with more than seven Beaufort, and once a week to the west. In July, at least seven Beaufort and one storm per week are recorded every third day, while two storms per week can be expected to the west.

The Cape was rounded for the first time by an expedition of Dutch sailors Willem Cornelisz Schouten and Jakob Le Maire on 29 January 1616, sailing on behalf of the Australian Company, which was founded by Jakob Le Maire's father Isaac Le Maire together with other Hoorn businessmen after an internal dispute with the Dutch East India Company (VOC). As Dutch ships at the time were only allowed to use the Strait of Magellan if they belonged to the VOC, Isaac Le Maire was looking for a passage to the Pacific untouched by the rights of the VOC to trade with the East Indies Spice Islands.

The expedition's mission was to explore a new route to the ‘East Indies’.It was considered fulfilled when a passage opened up between Tierra del Fuego (in the language of the Spanish owner) and the hypothetical huge southern continent of Terra Australis.It was named Fretum le Maire (literally Le Maire Strait) in Latin in honour of the initiator and most important financier Isaac Le Maire, and the ‘peninsula’ to the east belonging to Terra Australis was given the name Staatenlandt in honour of the newly constituted Dutch parliament.The rededication in favour of the son Jakob Le Maire took place after his tragic death at the instigation of his father.The island character of Staatenlandt, which is only sixty kilometres long, could not be recognised, as even at sea you can rarely see further than about forty kilometres. Not being able to see the connection of the state island to the huge Terra Australis only proved that one could not see further than twenty nautical miles - and this was already known.

According to the published records of the ‘shipwrecked passenger’ Jacob le Maires (his expedition ship, the Hoorn, burnt up during cleaning work in Patagonia), he and Captain Schouten were of the opinion that Tierra del Fuego was a rugged, rocky but contiguous island, the supposed southern tip of which was named Capo Hoorn in Latin by Schouten, who was responsible for it, in honour of the second great financier, the council of the city of Hoorn.The Le Maire Strait, the short and easy passage between America and Terra Australis at Staateninsel or Staatenlandt, was the important discovery; Cape Horn was already a clear 180 kilometres into the Pacific. Isaac le Maire had the discovery of this passage, supported by a ‘silent’ Schouten, attributed to his son by court order, with the father as heir.However, the associated and desired exploitation rights of the strait were immediately expropriated and granted to the monopoly of the East India Company.The last lawsuits over this were lost in 1648.

With the realisation that even Staatenlandt was not connected to Terra Australis and that Cape Horn was the decisive landmark, neither the Strait of Magellan nor the Le Maire Strait could be permanently managed with customs duties. Due to the factually and historically incorrect, commercially motivated court judgement that Jacob le Maire found his way into the Pacific via the Le Maire Strait, the discovery of Cape Horn is attributed to him just as incorrectly and abbreviated. Usually, however, all discoveries made on such a voyage are attributed to the captain, as he decides which unknown waters his ship sails into, is responsible for them and also has to assess and interpret what he sees. However, Schouten did not insist on a public acknowledgement of his exploratory achievement, presumably due to an ‘agreement’ between him and Isaac le Maire. In addition, the published documentation of the voyage was undoubtedly written by the representative of the shipping company Jacob le Maire, so that the impression of a discovery by the travelling merchant was already being conveyed to contemporaries

But according to the German author Wolf-Ulrich Cropp, the Englishman Francis Drake was the first European to sail around the Cape 40 years earlier, in 1578, on his circumnavigation of the globe, after he had reached the Pacific through the Strait of Magellan and then travelled south-east for a few days in search of the missing escort ships. However, this discovery was declared a state secret by Queen Elizabeth I.

At the time, it was believed that the Pacific could only be reached from the Atlantic via the Spanish-controlled Strait of Magellan further north, and the British did not want other nations to know about the second route.Drake's first discovery was only claimed after 1618 for political and economic reasons and was quickly disproved by examining the records and voyage reports and by interviewing the surviving travellers.The English naming of the sea area Drake Passage was only given in 1769 by James Cook when he surveyed the coast and is presumably only an expression of general reverence for the greatest English naval hero to date.

In fact, Drake no longer had any escort ships in the Pacific that he could miss; he had already lost them in the Atlantic or in the Strait of Magellan.In the event of a separation, a rendezvous point 2500 kilometres to the north had been agreed with the remaining Elisabeth; a search for missing persons in the south was therefore not very promising. Instead, Drake sought shelter between the islands west of the Strait of Magellan in a supposed ‘50-day storm’ and had no interest in drifting further and further south-east, where he would inevitably be wrecked on the expected Terra Australis in the storm.In any case, he took his time to ‘conquer’ the inhospitable islands of the archipelago one by one.Furthermore, the navigational documents show that he never travelled further south than 55° south, which, in view of his otherwise perfect latitude measurements throughout the voyage, rules out the possibility that he came closer than about 300 km to Cape Horn.Under no circumstances was he south of the Cape, travelling through the Drake Strait and the Le Maire Strait or Falkland Strait to the Atlantic entrance of the Strait of Magellan, in order to make a statement about its passability.The ambitious Drake would have seized even the slightest opportunity to make and verify such a glorious discovery, as he was well aware of the economic, personal, political and military benefits.Similar legends were subsequently spread about the Spanish captains Francisco de Hoces (1526) and Gabriel de Castilla (1603). However, the sources and evidence for both are so sparse and uncertain that the best that can be surmised is that they both sailed past the entrances to the Strait of Magellan for different reasons and then wandered south of it for a short time. In the case of de Hoces, the legend led to the same conclusion as with Drake: the sea area south of Tierra del Fuego, the Drake Strait, is called Mar de Hoces in Spanish.

The rounding of the Cape was one of the most feared passages for ships, as evidenced by the founding of the Cape Horn Community. Commanding captains who conquered Cape Horn on a cargo ship without an auxiliary engine became honorary members of this international community.

Until the completion of the Panama Canal in 1914, sailing around the Cape was the slightly more favourable way to reach the west coast of South America from the Atlantic. The Strait of Magellan and the Beagle Channel, which had already been sailed through centuries earlier by ships of the Dutch East India Company and British exploration ships, also offered difficult weather and current conditions for sailing ships.

At Cape Horn, the passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific against the westerly wind drift was particularly dangerous and difficult. It required ships sailing in this direction to constantly cross in high seas, rain, cold, poor visibility and icebergs. The False Cape Horn caused additional navigational difficulties due to the risk of confusion. However, to this day there are still ships that round the cape, albeit with the help of engines and modern navigation. But that does not mean that it is any less dangerous.

[talonabraxas]

Ehecatl : God of Winds

Ehecatl: Ignite your Passion

Ehecatl-Quetzalcoal (Ehecat) is the Aztec God of invisibility and intangibility who oversees the mysteries of passion and love.

In order to fully understand adult love one must experience loss in a personal manner. This takes place at all levels in our life. Last week the day Winds of Spirit arrived by UPS, I experienced a few losses as well: the front gates which house my former Healing Arts Center were stolen; my boss who provided the space to write the book took a new job at another company; and a tenant is leaving. Winds seek balance, and intensity will always swing towards disappointment or lethargy, then back again.

Seeds of passion sometimes grow in the ashes of disappointment, and later blossom into fragrant spring lilies. Like the wind, love, passion and relationships are also mysterious forces.

Aztec cosmology is built on the framework that there are five suns. Each sun represents a creation story in which humans are born, sustained and destroyed by the elements of nature; earth, wind, fire, water, and earthquake respectively. Ehecatl is one of the many faces of the Quetzalcoatl, the famed feathered serpent deity. In Nahuatl, Ehecatl means four winds, referring to the four cardinal directions.

Ehecatl presided over the second sun of creation that was called, “4 Wind.” During this period, human beings fell from the grace of the Gods and were destroyed by a hurricane. As Ehecatl blew, it swept away the debris, and those who survived were transformed into monkeys. Ehecatl reappeared in the Fifth Sun after the world was destroyed by fire.

Ehecatl traveled deep into the underworld and persuaded Mictlantecuhtili, the God of Death, to give back some ashes and bone. Ehectal mixed the bone with blood from the Gods and created humanity.

According to Aztec legend, Ehecatl snuck into the lower world, abducted the maiden Mayahuel, and brought her to the middle world. Their passion was so great that they became one and merged into a tree. Upon awaking from sleep Tzetzimutl journeyed to the middle world, pulled the lovers apart, shredded her grand daughter Mayahuel into pulp, and then returned Ehecatl to his rightful place in the wind.

”Whenever the wind blows, the Aztec believes it is an expression of Ehecatl’s desire.”

If Ehecatl appears as a longing East wind, it is time to listen closely to your heart.

East

If Ehecatl appears as a longing East wind, it is time to listen closely to your heart. New projects, new lovers, art and/or music will ignite your passion.

As a contrary wind, Ehecatl can remove worn-out love stories and soured memories that are preventing you from experiencing a new cosmic order in your life. It is time to examine your beliefs regarding love.

South

Ehecatl is fanning the flames of your innermost feelings and hidden desires. A willingness to love again will arise from the ashes. You are worthy of love and passion. Allow the mysterious thread of the universe to carry you into the next cycle.

Unlike Ehecatl, who was molded from a stone knife, you are an emotional being who thrives on love. In the contrary position, a howling Ehecatl is prompting you to open your heart to love. There is a wind-stirring deep within asking you to soften your heart in order to forgive those who have harmed you. Now is the time to heal the emotional scars left behind by abuse, loss, or abandonment.

West

Ehecatl brings the rains to nourish your crops, signaling the end of the dry season. Wash away your inhibitions, and rejuvenate your body with physical activity. Celebrate by dancing, hiking, gardening, swimming or sex.

When Ehecatl appears in the reverse position you are being offered forbidden fruit, so be alert and cautious. The sun may set on your goals if you merge with the wrong energies, as in the tale of Ehectal and Mayahuel.

Misguided passion and intrigue might pull you from your true path if you do not establish clear boundaries. Ask Ehecatl to help you to sweep away any blocks that stand between you and a bountiful harvest.

North

When Ehecatl blows in from the North, it is a sign that invisible forces are at work in your life. A soul mate isn’t necessarily your lover; it might be someone who has your back, no matter what troubles you may be facing. Enrich your life by connecting deeply with the people you love, and with those who have your best interests at heart.

In the contrary position Ehecatl points out that you are neglecting certain daily rituals which prevent you from keeping your spiritual life in order. Ask Ehecatl to help you understand the deeper aspects of your true self. It might be something as simple as rearranging your altar, planning a vacation or going on a spiritual retreat. Ehecatl : God of Winds ART: Corazon Mexica @MiCorazonMexica

The creation of bats. This is a new painting, which is part of a cycle of paintings that tell the story of the birth of flowers. It begins with Quetzalcoatl, who is the wind and creation, pleasuring himself on the banks of a river. His seed falls upon a stone, and from the stone is born the first bat. When the bat emerges from the stone, he asks it to go to Tamoanchan, the 12th heaven, and bring him back the “flower” of Xochiquetzal, who is love and flowers. The bat is thus the child of the wind and of the earth, and the story goes on to describe this theft, and describe the origin of flowers and menstruation.

[scotianostra]

Clifford Leonard Clark “Cliff” Hanley was born on October 28th 1922 in Glasgow.

Hanley was a journalist, novelist, playwright and broadcaster from Shettleston in the city’s East End, he was educated at Eastbank Academy.

His journalistic career began with a life of crime - reporting from the city courts for a local news agency. By the time he had graduated to the Daily Record, it was clear that he had an astonishingly versatile range. In particular, he loved the then hectic world of Glasgow show-business, reporting on the raft of theatres which still survived in the city in the 1960s.

On that scene Hanley was always more than a commentator and reviewer, his membership of Equity testifying to his skills on the speaking circuit, and to his talent as a lyricist. With the musician Ian Gourlay, he wrote some marvellously witty parodies of Scottish folk songs, substituting institutions like the Glasgow underground for Granny’s Hielan’ Hame.

Hanley’s hallmark was that brand of self-deprecating, but sharp, humour which ensures that no Glaswegian can entertain ideas above his station in the company of a fellow citizen.

Cliff Hanley’s childhood in Glasgow’s East End provided the material for his most celebrated novel, Dancing In The Street, a semi-autobiographical work which was much acclaimed on publication in the late 1950s. It is still considered one of the most engaging books about Glasgow, the grittier experiences always leavened and laced with Hanley’s irrepressible humour. Several other novels quickly followed to a similarly warm reception.

I know some of you will still be struggling to recall Hanley’s work, but he wrote the lyric for one of the most famous Scottish songs ever, putting the words to well known bagpipe tunes that we know as “Traditional” Hanley gave us the words to Scotland the Brave, which emerged as the de facto national anthem. It remained so for two decades before being supplanted by Flower Of Scotland, I still remember football matches where they played the tune at International matches as our national team anthem.

Of course, Cliff’s tongue-in-cheek verses were never designed for mass singing, as was evidenced by the confused expressions on the faces of the national soccer team when they struggled to get their bagpipes, heather and glens in the right order. But played at full tilt by a pipe band, the anthem struck the appropriate note of terror into the opposition.

For a while Hanley also worked in radio, but although he continued as a regular contributor, his career as a presenter was relatively short lived. In 1970, he was hired to work on Good Morning, Scotland, the flagship morning news programme, but fell foul of the accent police - at that time received pronunciation was still considered desirable. Thank god we still don’t adhere to the old rules, we would never have the likes of Lorraine Kelly, Dougie Henshall and Ken Stott using their own god given accents on TV

Hark when the night is falling

Hear! Hear the pipes are calling,

Loudly and proudly calling,

Down thro' the glen.

There where the hills are sleeping,

Now feel the blood a-leaping,

High as the spirits of the old Highland men.

Towering in gallant fame,

Scotland my mountain hame,

High may your proud standards gloriously wave,

Land of my high endeavour,

Land of the shining river,

Land of my heart for ever,

Scotland the brave.

High in the misty Highlands,

Out by the purple islands,

Brave are the hearts that beat

Beneath Scottish skies.

Wild are the winds to meet you,

Staunch are the friends that greet you,

Kind as the love that shines from fair maiden's eyes.

Towering in gallant fame,

Scotland my mountain hame,

High may your proud standards gloriously wave,

Land of my high endeavour,

Land of the shining river,

Land of my heart for ever,

Scotland the brave.

Far off in sunlit places,

Sad are the Scottish faces,

Yearning to feel the kiss

Of sweet Scottish rain.

Where tropic skies are beaming,

Love sets the heart a-dreaming,

Longing and dreaming for the homeland again.

Towering in gallant fame,

Scotland my mountain hame,

High may your proud standards gloriously wave,

Land of my high endeavour,

Land of the shining river,

Land of my heart for ever,

Scotland the brave.

[thefinalcinderella]

Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 6 - Genuine (Part 2)

My brain as I was translating this: what is bro yapping about

also please don't ask me to clarify anything that happened in this chapter, i also have no idea. i'm pretty sure only the author knows 😂all i know is that they were definitely doing kyudo.

TW: suicide mention

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

A saijiki is an almanac of Japanese seasonal terms used for poetry

Asahina's name (朝日奈) contains the characters for morning sun

Adults (成人) and saints (聖人) have the same reading (seijin)

A box-like structure where rain shutters are stored when not in use

Previous | Next

Masa-san, there’s something I want to tell you.

Don’t laugh and just listen to me.

The competitors from both schools met face to face at the prefectural finals. The sky began preparations to show off its triumphant end.

Asahina and Minato faced each other.

“Looks like ‘Minahead’ worked. Thanks.”

“Please don’t make surprise attacks like you did the other day.”

“Hahaha, sorry. The protection around you was strong, so that was the best I could do.”

Eddie pushed up his hair. “We have no need for superstition anymore.”

“That’s right, partner.”

Asahina and Eddie bumped elbows. They were like children who played a secret prank on their parents.

Haneina’s coach, Tsucchi, and Masa-san faced off.

“My archers are in top form. We’re going to win.”

“I don’t know about that. Kazemai can use the wind, after all.”

“I don’t want any funny tricks. Show us what you can do.”

“Go easy on us.”

The archers from both schools entered the shajo with orange and yellow-green headbands tied around their heads.

Haneina High School had Eddie, Matsuda, Kanuma, Igarashi, and Asahina.

Kazemai High School had Kaito, Ryouhei, Seiya, Nanao, and Minato.

They each stepped onto the shooting line and spread their legs.

The oomae of Haneina was Eddie. His golden hair fluttered in the sun. Spreading his white wings, the archangel descended upon the land of the east. The eccentric was an assumed figure, and the truth was revealed.

He objected to the strange land of Japan, where everyone wore matching outfits to find jobs. Who told them to wear black? Was it because it wouldn’t stand out even if they settled down in a graveyard? Those who prepared loyalty tests for the company would have been promoted and given a nice apartment. Ceasing to think for yourself was what politicians wanted you to do. Misguided servility made the conceited even more fattened. If you were going to dance the same dance, then dance in your own colors.

The arrow was aimed at the demon’s heart. But Eddie and Kaito hit the center.

Next was Matsuda on the second target. One day, a house party was held. The servants, who were usually unsmiling, broke out into big smiles as soon as the host appeared in the room. Before he knew it, everyone in the room had smiles pasted onto their faces. “Supporting the disabled is my purpose in life. We are very concerned about you. With this product, you can reduce your anxiety about your future,” they whispered, but the bow made no distinction between the disabled and the able-bodied. The love that asked for nothing in return was always there.

The released arrow shattered the window glass. Ryouhei followed as well.

Kanuma on the third target opened his haiku saijiki. (1) Beautiful phrases that reflected Japan’s weather, astronomy, geography, and human affairs were lined up side by side. The finely honed senses of their ancestors that resided in each phrase hadn’t faded away even now.

Words were twisted, woven, knitted, and tied together. Weaving brocade was the living wisdom and culture of creatures without fur. The clothes we wore revealed our environment and thoughts. Those who could manipulate words and know the hidden power of words could transcend the concept of time and fly to the moment at any time. Right now, Kanuma has composed a song.

Kanuma and Seiya summoned tsurune.

Brain, be deceived. Make a miracle happen.

Taking the sound of the matooto as a signal, Igarashi raised his bow. Anyone could step into his flower garden. Flowers such as bellflowers, gentians, and campanulas were preferred, and the bells rang when the wind blew. Bees and butterflies frolicked amidst the flowers, grass lizards and rainbow-colored lizards lay in the grass, and red-flanked blue tails rested on the branches. He picked the withered flowers and thinned out overcrowded foliage. A garden that took time to grow was a treasure. Igarashi applied that image to his own bow. He slept every night holding his bow, of which only one existed in this world.

As Igarashi and Nanao’s arrows flew, flowers bloomed along the path.

In the stands, Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo gasped. Since there were a lot of hits in quick succession, they braced themselves so they wouldn’t miss the chance to cheer.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful.”

“Both schools are sparkling.”

“This is exactly what ‘brilliance’ is.”

The ochi Asahina, as his name suggested, was the embodiment of the sun. (2) His red hair burned in the twilight.

Fire.

Fire knew what you had done.

It also knew the name and face of your accomplice.

If you wanted to purify yourself, go to the sea. If you wanted power, go to the mountains. Whichever path you chose, he would be a torchbearer and a guide. Heaven watched the deeds of those who lived on earth. Three children were born out of the fire. At any given time, there existed something that recorded the events on earth. Memories that were passed down became stories.

Asahina and Minato released their arrows.

For the second shot, nobody missed.

For the third short, the sound of the matooto didn’t cease.

The wind blew through the kyudojo, where conversation and even breathing were taboo.

Where was the wind going? Who was it bringing with it?

A memory of a day he spent with Masa-san flashed through Minato’s mind.

Yata Forest, where the crescent moon hang in the deep blue sky. The sound of rustling leaves sounded like the trees were welcoming them as the two walked along the white path illuminated by moonlight.

“Masa-san, there’s something I want to tell you. I had a strange experience a long time ago. I haven’t even told Seiya and Ryouhei about it. They’ll probably think I’m crazy or just laugh at me and say I was dreaming. Will you listen to me?”

“I will.”

“You won’t laugh?”

“I won’t.”

Minato took a deep breath.

“I was a bit out of it that day, and when people told me that it was Setsubun today, I was like, ‘Huh?’ It seemed like I got the date wrong by a day, and I had no memory of the day before Setsubun.”

“Hmm.”

“After scattering the beans, I slept like usual, and the next thing I knew, I was paralyzed. My arms and legs were numb, and I couldn’t move my body at all. While I was panicking, I heard three sounds. It kind of sounded like something used in an old sci-fi movie. Then, all of a sudden, a beam of light hit me from right above my head to my feet with a ker-wham. Just as I was thinking Oh crap, what do I do, I heard the three sounds again, and then I was hit on the top of my head with a wham. I still couldn’t move my body, so I was thinking about reciting the Heart Sutra when my dad woke me up. Apparently I was crying out in my sleep.”

Masa-san’s eyes widened. He burst into laughter.

“So you laughed at me after all. I’m a chuunibyou even in my dreams.”

“No, I was laughing at the onomatopoeia. I wasn’t laughing at what you said.”

“Are you telling the truth?”

“I had a similar experience. I never told anyone about it, so it’s a secret.”

Masa-san began speaking.

I’ve told you before that when I was in my third year of high school, I got target panic and my master gave up on me. I’ve also told you that in my first year in university, my father sent me a notification of my brother’s death, but actually, when I was nineteen, I got into an argument with my master. I declared that I will never forgive the person who made my brother disappear and that I will take revenge, but my master just lectured me in the usual way, saying that revenge was a foolish thing and that my anger will burn me to death. I asked him why he had been ignoring it until now, and why is it that you, my own family, didn’t understand me. I showered my master with the hateful words that should have been directed towards my father. That ended up being our final conversation.

When I was twenty, in my second year of university, my master passed away. I overcame my target panic and received invitations from several kyudo schools to join them, but I had lost sight of the significance of drawing the bow. I kept asking myself why I was drawing a bow—and then I realized it. No, I finally admitted it. I wanted to be acknowledged as an archer by my “master Yasaka,” no one else. And that will never come true.

In the spring of my third year, I completed shooting a hundred arrows, but all I felt was a sense of emptiness. My father casually sent us letters, as if he was unaware of the despair and threat he posed to us. Was it okay to just do nothing? Would I have no choice but to take these negative feelings with me to the grave?

As summer approached, I began to deeply regret the last words I spoke to my master. Every time I entered the kyudojo, my body became stiff, and I found it hard to breathe. Before I knew it, I couldn’t sleep soundly, and the doctor’s comforting words and medicine didn’t make me feel better. My mother, unable to just watch, took me to a temple in Shikoku.

The chief priest was a quiet person. He read sutras in the morning and sat in front of the Buddha at noon and night. He would visit me from time to time, and we would talk about casual everyday things before going home. During that time, I remained lying on my bed.

Several choruses of cicadas passed by. Everything that lived was covered in shame, and I longed to disappear, but I couldn’t commit suicide for the sake of the family I would be leaving behind. At night, I closed my eyes, hoping that I would never wake up again. If I could at least forget everything, I could live.

I closed my mouth in the morning and laid down on the ground during the day and night.

Sleepless days. I couldn’t escape the memories that replayed over and over again.

One night, as I was looking back on my life and regretting every detail, I heard a voice coming from the upper left corner of my head. Just a single “Good.”

The two looked at each other and smiled.

It was a strange feeling of empathy with each other.

Ah, that’s right. Someday, when the time was right, I can tell others about this day. When the truth dwells in Minato’s words.

When Masa-san finished, he grinned.

This was a secret between master and disciple.

“Good.”

“Good.”

The sixth voice was heard.

With three scales, arrows of light descended from the heavens and pierced through Minato’s body. His whole body went numb and his head became hazy.

The sounds came again.

When he decided to “come,” the arrows passed through his body and spread from the soles of his feet to the ground.

Meigen. That was the sound of the dawn.

Three sounds and arrows of light fell from the sky.

The arrows of light pierced my body.

The ultimate goal of kyudo was “the true, the good, and the beautiful.” True archery didn’t lie, deceive, or betray.

Truth in archery was proven by the brilliance of the bow, the tsurune, and hitting the target. What was true was beautiful, and what was good was also beautiful. Once you met the genuine article, you would never be confused again.

Hayake—Yips was a state in which the body became warped due to accumulated fatigue and stress, and the brain ends up malfunctioning. That was why beginners didn’t get target panic. It occurred when the brain remembered the experience of failure so strongly that it issued an emergency alert every time those memories replayed. This became a regular occurrence, and if proper treatment wasn’t taken, it would only get worse. In archery, hayake was called “target panic,” and it was an accurate description of this sickness.

The solution was to regulate one’s breathing. It was to get rid of the distortions in one’s body and allow the brain and body to rest.

There were actually very few people who could maintain a natural and comfortable posture. Regulating the autonomic nervous system and improving the functioning of the central nervous system was the key to good health. The autonomic nervous system referred to the nerves that were responsible for unconscious processes such as pulse, breathing, and digestion. The sympathetic nervous system was dominant during the day, and the parasympathetic nervous system was dominant when sleeping at night. The central nervous system were the nerves that acted like a command center, issuing commands to various parts of the body.

Anxiety and fear were a kind of self-protective instinct. Once living things experienced something scary or painful, they tried to avoid it next time. When it was overreacted to, they became stuck in the memories of the past, worried about the future, and unable to take even a step forward.

When you drove a car, you got too scared to drive if you thought about what would happen if you caused an accident. You made sure you were in good physical condition and inspected your vehicle before driving. Even so, if you caused an accident, you would have to pay for it for the rest of your life. If you were willing to accept all of that, everything else would become possible.

Cars run on gasoline or electricity, but what did the human body need to move? Oxygen. Oxygen produced heat. “Breathing” was an important way to obtain oxygen efficiently. Because modern people breathed with their chests, they were unaware that they were about to drown due to the lack of oxygen in their brains.

Let’s slowly take a deep breath.

You could see what you couldn’t see before.

You could touch what you couldn’t touch before.

The days I spent with you.

The days I will spend with you from now on.

Who should I thank for this happiness?

Right now, I’m breathing.

Blessed are the creatures that shed their fur.

They have rented lodgings on earth and eaten many lives.

Now, I offer a moment of silence.

The fourth shot began. The ten’s heartbeats grated.

Gradually, slowly, the surroundings were dyed in green, like vines were creeping around. This place, with its spreading leaves and blooming orange flowers, was just like the earth after humans have left.

Those who gathered in the Land of the Rising Sun. Kaito, who had just been born, let out a single cry. The roar that announced the joy of birth hit right in the middle of the target.

Ryouhei also raised his voice. What beautiful stars, what delightful companions. Now, let’s set off. Let’s row the boat. What kind of place would the new continent be? What kind of encounters await us?

Seiya followed suit. I knew you were worried about me. I was taking advantage of your kindness. Thank you for being by my side. Thank you for getting angry.

Nanao was enjoying himself, happy, and sun—. The place I belong is where I draw my bow. I want it, I want it, I want it. But it didn’t come true. I got an abode that I should have given up sometime ago. Someone whispered to me that it’s okay to stay here, that there’s no need to leave so quickly. When he blew a whistle, the matooto resounded at the azuchi.

Minato was standing on the earth.

We are temporary residents who are renting a part of the earth.

His memory flew back to a few weeks ago, to something Saionji had said with blooming azaleas behind him.

“Narumiya-kun, please try to explain the ‘Heart Sutra’ to me.”

“Yes. The universe is emptiness. If you think something exists, it exists. If you don’t think it exists, it doesn’t exist. You can see it if you try to see it, and you can’t see it if you don’t try. It’s dyed in every color, and it’s not dyed in any color. The mind is emptiness. The mind is the body, and the body is the mind. Although they are considered different things, they used to be one and the same. The ‘box’ that is me contains all the necessary software. Now, recite the password called an incantation and open the box. The box will then start up normally.”

“That’s a bold interpretation. It’s very interesting. Continuing studying in that vein.”

“Thank you very much.”

“It’s not about right or wrong, it’s about how you feel. That is the answer of the current you. Religion was originally meant to be a guidebook to help you live a better life.”

The mind and body were the same person.

The heart was responsible for pumping blood, the stomach was responsible for digesting food, and the brain was responsible for thinking. All were functions of internal organs, and each had a role. It was just that the roles were divided, and it didn’t mean that the brain was the best and the others weren’t. Confusion arose because only the brain was viewed as special.

Humans tended to rely on vision when obtaining information, and were creatures who liked to take things apart before observing them. However, if you were too short-sighted, you would lose sight of the true essence. If you take a step back, you could see the whole thing. Man and woman, good and evil, the surface and below, real and imaginary numbers, joy and anger, sadness and healing, health and illness, life and death, meetings and partings. Dualism was just one classification method, and the classification depended on the time and situation.

The two couldn’t be separated. They were intertwined from the start.

They were one from the beginning.

A spell was a mysterious word that went beyond human comprehension. Although words could be shown to have special power, the basis for the current phenomenon couldn’t be explained. Because it was “power beyond human understanding,” it was difficult for ordinary people to understand, much less put into words. Just because you couldn’t see, hear, or quantify it doesn’t mean that it “didn’t exist.” It was only latent, not yet manifested.

A text that had been simplified by an expert in the field by only extracting the important points was, on the contrary, even more difficult for beginners to understand. Rewording the text into concrete episodes, in other words, accumulating stories, helps to deepen understanding. Stories were the perfect tool to convey something. It was hoped that someday, someone would explain it in an easy-to-understand text.

Minato and Asahina’s arrows pierced their targets.

Ten people. Forty perfect hits.

This was in the exact region of a hundred shots and a hundred hits.

Viewing this amazing scene, there was a standing ovation in the spectators’ seats.

Ren, who was watching in the stands, squeezed his hands. Seiya’s brother Gaku hugged himself.

“It looks cold. How long will this continue?”

“…I hope it doesn’t end like this.”

No winner was decided, so it became a shoot-out. Each archer released a shot, and the school with the most hits won. If it couldn’t be determined in one round, it was repeated until the ranking was decided.

The oomae had begun to raise their bows.

Roaring bows. Arrows that cut through the wind. Summoning thunderclouds, colorful dragons swam through the archery range.

Dizzingly clear paths of light bounce, dance, and splashed. Legendary creatures ran to the end without turning around or stopping. The “insect” contained in the kanji for “wind” and “rainbow” meant dragon, and although they were feared as gods in the East and monsters in the West, they weren’t influenced by human expectations. Each went their own way. Their colors and speeds were different, but they all arrived at one place—somewhere bright.

Once more, everyone hit.

The people watching the ten, who never missed, felt a thirst in their throats. What were they witnessing? Did something like this truly exist? Were they becoming witnesses to history?

Kaito, Ryouhei, Seiya, Nanao, and Minato faced the target.

The five melted into one and returned to that day. They were hearing Greensleeves.

Minato was talking to his mother in a dream.

“This song is about the moment when a disciple told their master the answer to a problem, right? I think the moment the master heard this, they smiled with joy.”

Greensleeves was a “Song of Naru.”

After completing his trials, the boy became an adult.

It was a rite of passage, an initiation.

Farewells and encounters were one and the same. On the winter solstice, the sun died and was reborn. Rather than having two sides, rather than being parallel, it was a chaotic thing that blended and mixed together. Today was like yesterday, and tomorrow was like today. Time didn’t exist there.

“Goodbye” was a magic word. It was devised from the beginning.

The sound of knocking on the door. A ringing sound.

Yearning, chasing, wishing.

Cowering, struggling, being doubted, despised.

Raging, despairing, cursing.

When you repent, mourn, accept death…

And give up.

Bow your head, love, and forgive. The door finally opens.

With a “welcome.”

Love meant forgiving yourself and others.

Could you embrace the person in front of you who you hated so much that you wanted to kill?

Those who cleared this final task were called “adults (saints)”. (3)

Admiration for the opposite sex and affection between parents and children were biological desires based on the perpetuation of descendants, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to love someone who had been kind to you. True friendship was rare and beautiful. Those who walked on the same path, master and disciple and friends. The two would be on a journey that would never end. The only difference was whether one went first or went later.

Even if one, two, three, or even four people finished, the match wasn’t decided.

The fifth, Asahina and Minato, began to raise their bows. They opened their chests wide and stretched their limbs in all directions. Two crosses emerged in the shajo dyed by the sunset. The boys flew into the sky. Migratory birds passed between the clouds, rivers meandering across the land, and cows grazing. A dragonfly rested its wings on the tip of an ear of wheat and flew away, seemingly uninterested in human activity.

A beautiful bow with a length unparalleled in the world. That was a divine implement. The sacred instrument inherited by archers chose its user. It looked for those with clear, unclouded eyes. The sun was a form of unconditional love. An existence that shined on everyone, both good or bad, without distinction. The Japanese called that star Amaterasu Oomikami.

When Minato’s arrow was sucked into its target, Asahina gently brought down his bow.

It was at that moment that Kazemai High School’s victory was decided.

Exclamations and screams arose at the long battle. The applause and cheers were deafening. In the stands, Hanazawa, Shiragiku, Seo, and Gaku were crying.

Kaito and Eddie, Ryouhei and Matsuda, Seiya and Kanuma, Nanao and Igarashi, and Minato and Asahina bumped gloves.

Asahina laughed. “That was so much fun. Let’s do it again.”

“Yeah, I had fun too.”

After they finished leaving the shajo, the first years Kanbayashi and Himuro ran up to them, and the members of Kazemai High School’s kyudo club hugged each other’s shoulders.

Minato and Kaito were screaming.

“Woooooooo!”

“Yeaaaaaah!”

“You don’t have to do your yagoe here. You’re hurting my ears,” Seiya chided them, but made no move to remove their hands from his shoulders. Ryouhei put his weight on them, causing the seven to lose their balance and collapse to the ground.

Nanao’s eyes were wet with emotion. It was not a little frustrating for him to be left out of the lineup in the preliminaries. He didn’t want to admit that he was frustrated, not wanting to show such an uncool part of himself, and unconsciously tried to keep up appearances. The other members all noticed this. They had the same feelings. Kaito, Seiya, Minato, Ryouhei, and even Himuro and Kanbayashi patted Nanao on the head. Nanao did the same thing back to them. Tommy-sensei watched the seven boys with a smile as they seemed to return to their childhood. Masa-san picked Nanao up and walked around with him. “Pick me up too!” Ryouhei badgered him.

The appearance of the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club was deeply etched into people’s memories.

After the awards ceremony, Kazemai prepared to go home. The support group that brought the cars walked ahead, followed by the club members. The championship cup was held by the president, Seiya.

The feeling of elation couldn’t be contained. The scenery they usually saw was more color saturated and lacked a sense of reality. On the stage of the finals, all five of them achieved six shots without missing. This was exactly a dream came true.

As they were leaving the kyudojo, the Kirisaki members came to congratulate them. The Young Prince’s eyes were more melancholic than usual.

Ryouhei put his arms around Kaito and Nanao’s shoulders.

“Ah, I’m still excited. I feel like running.”

“Alright, let’s run home.”

“You guys are gonna get wiped out if you do that,” Kaito said, but he couldn’t remain still either and started walking faster.

Minato, Kanbayashi, and Himuro formed the tail end of the group. After the match, they walked slowly from exhaustion.

“I’ve been inspired. I’m going to become an archer like Narumiya-senpai.”

“You’re making too much of me. I’m not even close to Masa-san or Shuu.”

“All three of you are amazing.”

Himuro nodded wordlessly.

“Kyah, I’m sorry!”

Someone appeared, interrupting Minato and the others’ conversation. A girl passing by bumped into him when he wasn’t looking, it seemed. The contents of the plastic bottle she was holding spilled onto Minato, and he wiped the liquid with his sleeve.

“Your collar got soaked. Do you want to change?”

“Some of it got into my mouth, but it seems to be just water. It’ll dry right away.”

By the time they finished loading their bags into the car, Minato felt sluggish. He felt nauseous, and his whole body was itching. When he looked at the inside of his arm, he saw that a rash had broken out.

“What’s wrong with me? I feel itchy, and kinda sick…”

“Your neck is turning red! Should I call Takehaya-senpai? He might have some medicine.”

“Ah, it’s fine. I’ll wait until we get back.”

But soon, Minato was crouching down in a corner of the parking lot. Seiya, noticing that Minato and the others were acting strange, rushed over. Minato was clutching his throat as he crouched.

“What’s wrong, Minato!?”

“…I don’t know, but I feel sick and lightheaded.”

“Could it be heatstroke? Do you have a fever? How’s your stomach?”

“It’s hard to breathe…my throat…”

His voice was raspy and his breathes came in short gasps. Nanao rubbed Minato’s back, and the other members formed a human barricade to guard him. From Seiya’s perspective, he was experiencing system symptoms such as nausea, sweating, dizziness, rashes, and shivering. What was going on?

Seiya’s brother Gaku, who had gotten into the car earlier, also ran over and put his nose on the back of Minato’s neck.

“Seiya, wait. It’s really faint, but he smells different than usual. …It’s an unpleasant smell. What is this, ginkgo fruit?”

Seiya and Ryouhei looked at each other.

“Minato’s allergic to ginkgo!”

“That’s right. A long time ago, when our families went to pick ginkgo fruits, we were shocked when Minato got a rash even though he never touched them with his bare hands.”

“But there aren’t any ginkgo fruits this time of year,” Gaku murmured. “Are these symptoms of anaphylactic shock?”

Seiya’s expression froze.

Anaphylactic shock was a condition in which an allergic reaction to food or other allergens caused a drop in blood pressure and deterioration of consciousness.

Masa-san pushed through the human barricade and went to Minato. He was lying limp in the laps of Kanbayashi and Himuro. His face was chalk white.

“Sorry about this, Minato.”

Masa-san suddenly lifted up Minato’s hakama and pushed something that looked like a thick pen into his thigh. There was a click sound. Seiya widened his eyes, and Kanbayashi blinked rapidly.

“It’s a self-injection of adrenaline. I’m allergic to wasp poison, so I carry it around with me.”

Gaku got out his phone. “Coach Takigawa, thank goodness. Don’t worry, I’ll get him to the hospital right away.”

The injection seemed to have worked, and after a while Minato was able to sit up on his own. His breathing had settled down, and it seemed that his life was no longer in danger. Minato was escorted to the hospital by the Takehaya brothers.

Afterwards, the dashcam in one of the parents’ cars parked in the parking lot showed the girl who was holding the bottle. Despite repeated appeals that the water in the bottle was suspicious, the case was shelved without much investigation, as it was assumed that Minato had just accidentally ingested food that he was allergic to.

Seiya had a pained expression on his face.

“I know someone whose hobbies include hacking into surveillance camera data and using AI to analyze internet articles. The girl from the dashcam is a Kuon devotee. We also confirmed contact between a detective and a Kuon family servant. Apparently, the detective got their hands on ginkgo fruits from a university lab. It seems like there are all sorts of people at Kuon’s house.”

“Why Minato?” Ryouhei asked.

“It’s probably jealousy. The Young Prince only has one brother disciple. No one can take Minato’s place.”

Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo stamped on the ground in frustration.

“I can’t believe we can’t do anything even though we know that much.”

“It’s frustrating.”

“Yeah, I feel you. But wouldn’t it also be bad if the hacking is discovered?”

Masa-san, who had been listening silently until then, rubbed his cheek.

“We have to punish him hard for this.”

Kuon was spending the weekend at the villa.

“Has that woman’s identity been exposed? How useless. Hmm, no need to bother with a orthopedic surgeon’s son and a bunch of commoners.”

His phone rang, and the screen displayed a certain person’s name.

It was Fujiwara Shuu.

“Kuon Takumi, will you apologize to Minato?”

Perhaps it was because he was calling from somewhere far away, but there was so much noise in the background that it was hard to hear.

“What are you talking about? I’m on vacation right now. Do you mind if I ask you to refrain from calling?”

“He’s heading your way right now. I’m not going to be able to stop him.”

“He?”

Asahina and Eddie had pinpointed Kuon’s location. He was in a richly decorated mansion deep in the mountains. The heavy doors opened.

Masa-san leisurely walked from the central entrance to the front stairwell. A female servant of the mansion, suspicious of the smiling, cheerfully walking stranger, called out to him.

“Excuse me, sir? Are you a guest?”

“Hey there, young lady. I’m glad you seem to be doing well.”

“I’m afraid that I cannot let you through to the next room.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m very close to Takumi-kun.”

Masa-san smiled softly, and the servant felt cold air blowing on the back of her neck. Contrary to his words, his quiet anger was something that couldn’t be hidden no matter how hard he tried.

The woman screamed. “Takumi-sama, there’s a suspicious person here! Somebody help!”

Kuon sensed the man’s impending presence and hurried outside.

Masa-san got behind the men guarding Kuon and slammed his fist into the back of his liver. He dodged another man’s kick, and when he fell to the ground with a heavy thud, Masa-san jumped over the stair railing.

All the while, Kuon was running at full speed. His pursuer closed the distance in the blink of an eye, and Kuon, panicking, tripped on the grass and fell. Despite this, he still crawled on the ground, trying to escape, but couldn’t move forward.

Masa-san grabbed Kuon by the nape of his neck.

“Swear that you’ll never lay a finger on Kazemai’s students again.”

“O-Okay. I swear, so let me go first.”

When Masa-san loosened his grip, Kuon raised himself up and faced him directly. Immediately after, he saw the shadow of a muscular man behind Masa-san. Masa-san punched him in the face without looking back.

Kuon clutched at the soil.

“Who the hell are you!? There’s no way an ordinary person can do that!”

“I’m sure you know that I’m Kazemai’s coach. A long time ago, I learned self-defense. You don’t seem to realize what you’ve done.”

“Isn’t it just a little bit of itchiness? A long time ago, I had a classmate who got itchy after eating eggs, but it cleared up after a week. Isn’t this just a child’s adorable prank?”

“Don’t tell me that you’ve done the same thing in the past? Allergies can be life-threatening if you don’t take care of them properly. What you did was equivalent to poisoning him. Lately, I haven’t been able to control myself…whatever will I do?”

Masa-san put his hand in the inside pocket of his jacket. He took out a permanent marker, and after removing the cap, he placed the tip of the pen on Kuon’s cheek.

Approximately ten seconds later, Kuon’s face was covered with the same pattern as the one on the powder container Masa-san had received from his master. Yes, depending on how you looked at it, it looked like a bikini.

The look in Kuon’s eyes changed when he saw Masa-san turn on his phone.

“No way, you’re going to take a photo?”

“A souvenir. I borrowed the pen from Kazemai’s president, and it turned out to be a very tasteful picture, if I do say so myself.”

“You lowly citizen! I’ll call Father!”

“As you requested, I’ve already called him. ‘My foolish son has wronged your friend. Please scold him on my behalf,’ he said and invited me to this villa. Now that I’ve taken some pictures, I think I’ll send them to the Kirisaki twins.”

“Father would never… S-Stop it! Doesn’t Buddhism tell you to not take revenge even when something is done to you? Your real job is being a monk, isn’t it?”

“Everyone keeps calling me a monk, monk, monk. I’m not a monk, I’m a priest!”

As Masa-san’s finger was about to slide across his phone’s screen, the wind created by a helicopter made the leaves and branches of the mountains shake. It was a tremendous amount of dust. When he looked up, the door of the low-flying aircraft opened.

Shuu jumped down. His pale eyelashes were swaying.

“Kuon, if you’re going to use the power of your family, I won’t hesitate to borrow the power of my family as well. Have you forgotten my name?”

“…Fujiwara-senpai.”

Minato also peeked out from the helicopter.

“Masa-san, stop! Don’t do anything more than that! I haven’t learned pro wrestling yet.”

“Good grief, my disciples are always too soft!”

Masa-san and Shuu stood in front of Kuon, who bowed his head in resignation.

Young leaves danced in the sky.

Members of the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club gathered at the Yata no Mori Kyudojo.

A fleeting time of overnight practice. The warm sunlight that poured down upon them made them sleepy.

“Oh, what happened to the boys?” Tommy-sensei asked Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo.

“They went to see the dormouse.”

Masa-san pressed his hand to his forehead. “They got too much power, don’t they? Let’s get started on dinner.”

“Yes.”

Minato and his friends were in the forest. They were standing in front of an old mountain hut.

Nanao pointed to the door of the hut.

“At dawn, I volunteered to go look for Miyama stag beetles. Then, I saw it there.”

“Wow, that early morning walk was all about collecting bugs? I’m glad I didn’t go,” Ryouhei said, patting his chest.

Minato asked him to let him sit on his shoulders and peered through the gaps in the tobukuro.* It was a nostalgic scene for Seiya, who was watching them from the side as he waited for his turn to sit on Ryouhei’s shoulders.

“You guys are way too big to do little kid stuff like this,” Kaito said to Seiya.

“You don’t have to look, Kaito.”

“…I guess it’s fine to take just one look.”

Keyaki and Kanbayashi were searching around for new discoveries, and Himuro was listening to the voice of the forest’s master.

The mountains were shining.

The mountains were singing.

By the time the owl woke up from its sleep, Minato and the others had dinner.

Previous | Next

[onmyyan]

Endless Again

Chapter One

A/N: This first chapter is just an introduction to (Y/n), Damian and Jon make a short appearance but it's mostly a set up for the rest of the story, feedback is welcome and I hope you enjoy!

TW'S: death (no main characters), canon typical violence

All you wanted was one normal year.

One painfully mundane year where someone wasn't trying to murder you for no reason.

It's all you asked from the universe when you looked up at the stars, anytime you saw one shoot across the dark sky you made sure to make a wish.

It was rare for the twinkling lights to peak through the heavy clouds.

Considering just how insane the past few months have been, you figured you'd long since earned a break.

Gotham was only ever quiet when she wanted to be, one thing you could count on was how the untameable city never truly felt as peaceful as it did in the earliest hours of the morning, the sun having yet to kiss the sky, even criminals got cold, well most of them anyway.

A light blanket of gray covered the brooding city like a hug, its familiar haze brought a warm blossom of comfort to spread out through your chest, it always looked like it was just about to rain, seasoned gothamites could tell if you needed to bother with an umbrella just by the smell in the air.

Your elderly neighbor Edna had told to that one night you'd gone to keep her company, she said she could smell the rain before a drop hit the ground.

Another thing you loved about your city was the constant skin-biting cold wind, it was especially apparent whenever you found yourself outside at this hour, the breeze a welcome sting, no matter how often you went inside shivering, you felt the serenity was well worth it.

You, your Mother Grace, and her older son Peter, all lived in this cozy little apartment in the upper east end of Gotham.

The floor you three lived on was just below the roof, all you had to do to get up there was pop open the triangular window in your room, the landlord had tried in vain to seal it shut with layer after layer of paint, the ledge was so easy to scale, it almost felt like an invitation.

Heights had never bothered you, in fact being up so high you could see the dark waters of Gotham Bay crashing against the docks from where you stood, it made you feel oddly centered, leaning comfortably against the chain link fence, fingers looped through the holes, the metal was quite cold against the heat of your palms, tired (e/c) eyes watched as your breath fanned out in clouds before you.

You didn't know when you'd get the chance to be up here again, so you allowed yourself to take in all the wonderful sights and sounds.

Your neighbor in 4B was walking her dog in the yard, kicking snow over the mess the Yorkie made instead of picking it up, then there was 4D, the sad-looking man always trudged his way to where you could only assume was work, he made sure to pause in his commute if he saw you out, his halfhearted wave was always returned with one of your own.

Your eyes trailed the array of little cuts and scars littering your knuckles, they made you feel tough when you were younger, and still do, to see them and still feel the breath in your lungs meant you were still fighting. No matter how you got them. No matter how often you got knocked down. You had them because you came out of it.

While this was one of the safer neighborhoods in town, Grace still made you sign up for self-defense classes about a week after bringing you home from the adoption agency. It was one of your earliest memories of her.

The 5'3 woman was small in stature but not in presence.

She packed a punch like a bullet, and she always managed to stand comically out of place when she came to your tournaments, Grace often looked as if someone had plucked her straight out of a 50's glamour magazine, blonde waves almost always pinned up in a classy up-do. Her big blue eyes held the warmest look whenever you caught her gaze in the crowd.

She'd be sandwiched between two meatheads with the most obnoxious glittery sign no doubt decorated by herself and Peter the night before, she'd always cheer the loudest, you looked back on the memories fondly, not only did you love the adrenaline of throwing people around, you ended up needing these defensive skills more than you anticipated.

It was like she knew you'd be in trouble eventually and wanted to give you a headstart.

You didn't mind, especially since you'd had to beat the shit out of one too many perverts on the way home more times than you could count, to this day she didn't know how many punks you left bloodied in the streets.

And you intended to keep it that way.

She was a great mom, often working double shifts as an ER nurse, Gotham general was never empty so she always had something to do, anytime you or Peter showed the slightest interest in something you wanted she did anything she could to get it for you, loving you like you were her own, never once making you feel ostracized, she made it abundantly clear she only wanted her children safe and happy.

So when she gave you a rule, it was hard not to follow it, all she asked of you, was that you never let anyone outside the family see what you were capable of.

To this day only she and your older brother were privy about your powers, she knew you didn't remember much from your time before the adoption so she never bothered asking about the nature of your abilities, it was like this weird unspoken rule not to discuss your, oddities. Seemingly just happy to have you as her daughter.

One night, after a long day of dealing with the intolerant little shits at your public school, she'd been trying to comfort you for hours, heartbreaking at the tears in your eye. When you'd stopped crying long enough to ask her for some oddly specific brand of ice cream she knew you adored, Grace, being the bleeding heart she was, folded immediately.

It was just down the street anyway, she figured nothing could happen in the five-minute walk to the corner store she'd made a thousand times before, that was until about five minutes into the outing, you felt the horrible stare on your back and snapped your head around with a startling speed. Both meeting the gaze of the masked man and catching him off guard, there was something in your stare that made him hesitate, but he pushed passed it to continue steadily sneaking up on you both.

You didn't need to read his thoughts to know whatever he intended was vile in nature, you tugged on the small woman's sleeve, and forced her to stop.

"Mama- look." Her head snapped around with a gasp, and she instinctively moved you to stand behind her, using her body as a shield, "Please- don't do something you'll regret alright?- I-I'll give you anything, just don't hurt us."

She started shakily removing her watch when he moved his hand to his belt, the streetlights caught it just right so the glint of steel could be seen tucked into his waist, he continued to stare, breath heavy and eyes wild.

There was this moment, where he just stared at you both, his unruly stare flickering from the mostly empty streets to the seemingly defenseless pair before him, he appeared to have made up his mind, hand reaching for the handle of his knife.

Before Grace could open her mouth to scream for help, Before either of them could think, you'd made your move.

Just as he went to take another step forward, you flicked your little wrist in a circle, body moving on autopilot, not thinking of anything but getting the threat away from your mother, a flash of red glimmered over his glazed-over eyes, you watched in silent awe as he walked himself into the suddenly busy traffic of downtown.

The resulting carnage pulled every car on the block to a screeching halt, as people screamed and began to spectate, Grace could only stare in horror as people began to flood the scene.

She scooped you into her arms, and ran home, her hands holding you tight to her chest, that was the night she'd sat you down before bed, eyes wide with unshed tears.

"Please darling, I need you to swear to me- swear you'll never let anyone see what you can do." Her soft hands held your little face in a tender hold, so you could feel the tremor in her touch as she pleaded with a then 10-year-old you.

Desperately trying to convey her seriousness to you without yelling, she stared you down until you confirmed out loud. "Never Mama." her request was delivered in such a shaken tone you couldn't help but nod your little head, curls bouncing rapidly as you tried to pacify a situation you didn't understand.

Her older son Peter had always been kind to you, having your back in the way older brothers do, even when he couldn't actually do much against them, he did his best to defend you against the bullies, taking the brunt of their viciousness.

Someway, somehow they seemed to smell it on you; like there was a neon sign on your forehead that said oddity, you always wondered how they knew something was different about you.

It was as if something primal told them to keep an eye on you, the same way you watched a wild animal in captivity, just waiting on the day it loses control.

Growing up hiding from your powers was as hard as it was dangerous, every time you got a little too mad at one of your tormenters and all the windows in class shattered, or if you focused a little too hard on a person and they'd get yanked back into the wall by an invisible force, you risked blowing your cover completely, your senses almost always overwhelming you.

Grace had a protective streak which wasn't hard to understand as she had children in the most dangerous city in the states, so you didn't fight her when she asked you to stay home, it's not like you had friends lining up to hang out, you didn't mind, although it did make you have to get creative when it came to hiding stuff.

You took to training your abilities in secret, starting small, you began by lifting all the furniture in your room as high up off the floor as you could until your hundred-pound bed became as easy as lifting your phone, then you moved on to yourself, often getting lost in the floaty sensation it gave you to fly, these were the abilities you'd honed in the best as you could, practicing them at home without being discovered was doable, telepathy was another subject entirely.

Living in a crowded apartment building meant anytime you tried turning it on, all of a sudden it was like a thousand radio stations blaring at max volume in your head.

As much fun as you were having discovering yourself, it seemed the more you trained your abilities, the weirder your life got. You'd spent the last year of high school defending your life from dickhead after dickhead, the would-be assassins only ever struck when you were alone, and seemed to attack more and more, as time went on.

In an effort to deter them, you'd spent the last few years as a homebody, hoping a decrease in public appearances would also slow their assaults, and up until a month ago it was working.

That is of course until someone tried to wrap a wire around your throat when you were doing laundry. You'd accidentally knocked him out cold when you threw him off of you and into the wall, he'd hit it so hard his body left a print.

After tossing him in a dumpster a few blocks away from your home, you screamed into your pillow for a few minutes, that was way too close, and you decided then and there that you had to do something, you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself if anything happened to the people you cared for most.

All that to say, your loving little family, as sweet as they were, still saw you as this helpless little kid who needed someone to hide behind, so you could understand why their fear was near palpable in the apartment the night at dinner, they exchanged looks and silent debates but stayed supportive, both of them absolutely terrified about your departure for Gotham U in the morning.

"Are you sure you can't take some courses online? I read something about that yesterday at brunch." Her voice was shaky as she took your hand over the table. "Ma relax - she's twenty-one years old, she can handle it." Peter was quick to defend you, knowing if his mother had it her way neither of you would ever leave the house.

He shot you a reassuring smile, patting his mother on her arm. "Plus, she knows we got her back, always."

Grace shared a teary-eyed look with her eldest before excusing herself to the bathroom to no doubt cry. Your chest stung at the sight, hating to be the reason the kind woman was upset, but you knew it was for the best.

You couldn't resist the urge to read her mind, flinching at what you felt, you immediately stopped and began messing with your food, your appetite suddenly gone.

"Don't worry about ma- you know how she is, she'll come around." Peter said nudging your shoulder in a light-hearted manner, he was the peacekeeper in the house, "Thanks, Pete."

You said forcing yourself to take a few more bites, finishing the meal in comfortable silence.

That was hours ago, and you could still feel the near-crushing weight of the fear in Grace's heart.

You knew at the root of her fear was love for you, she was just worried for your safety.

Yes, her reaction was intense but it wasn't near as bad as some people got. Before she'd bared you from using them, you used to use your powers like party tricks, nothing too major, just making little things appear or reading someone's mind when they bet you ya couldn't.

Not a lot of folks like knowing you could see them for who they were. When you were younger you could never understand why people got so cold when they realized you weren't lying.

This was another reason you didn't like poking around in people's heads.

It more often than not left you with bruised feelings.

Shaking the thought away, you allowed yourself to be fully swept up in the calm morning, something you felt would be the last for a while, call it intuition, but you had the nagging feeling that despite your wishes for a peaceful, normal freshman year, it would be anything but.

And one of the primary causes of your future chaos was currently trying to sneak his way back inside the Batcave, unsuccessfully I might add.

On the opposite side of Gotham, the city's latest Robin was just then coming in from patrol. He had turned his bike off early, in an effort to be as quiet as he could while he snuck in.

"You were supposed to check in hours ago Damian," Bruce said without looking away from the documents in his hands. Damian winced as his hopes for the older man being asleep were crushed, although he should have known better than to think his Father would be sleeping at a healthy time.

He began removing his tactical gear, carefully placing each one in its proper place while he thought of his careful response.

"You've always told me to finish what I start on the job - now I'm supposed to abandon my post for some arbitrary curfew?"

"That curfew is only in place because I couldn't trust you to remember your new semester, which starts in," His calculating eyes glanced at the Rolex on his wrist, "Less than an hour so I suggest you use what time you do have to shower." Damian turned to curse silently and sped walked his way towards the elevator.

"Before you scoff I'll remind you that had you actually done what we agreed upon instead of trying to work around it by patrolling all night, you'd be well rested."

Damian made his way upstairs silently fuming to himself, he'd been dreading this day for as long as he could remember, he'd had a college-level education since before middle school, and to pretend to need it for the sake of public appearances felt like a waste of time to the young hero, he spent as long as he could in the shower, letting the steam and near scalding water distract him from the soon to be headache that was Gotham U.

The black turtleneck he threw on was more for practicality than fashion despite looking quite good in it, he was really just thinking about wearing something he couldn't bleed through, the cut he'd gained on his latest outing as the Boy wonder had been sloppily patched up in his haste to get ready, it wasn't like him to drag his feet in such a manner, but the youngest Wayne was beyond unmotivated.

Damian made sure to give Ace and Titus a goodbye scratch under their chins as he left, he offered Alfred a wave and leisurely walked to the first car he saw, a shiny black 2022 BMW, he turned the seat warmer on high and flicked the radio on, settling into his routine was just starting to curb his sour attitude when a name popped up on the touchscreen, "Jonathan Kent, why are you calling me so early in the day? Have I not suffered enough?"

He could hear the taller male's laughter in his voice when he responded, "Very funny Damian, you're still coming to pick me up right?" The green-eyed man felt his face drop, he checked his mirrors before whipping the car back around towards his friend's apartment. "Of course, although I still feel it pointless seeing as you can you know, fly." Jon sucked his teeth at his friend, "Psh yeah right, I heard you do that U-Turn, lemme' find out that was illegal and I'm telling your dad."

"I can always leave you where you stand."

"Just kiddin'! Jeez, you're more grumpy than usual, Do you really think it's gonna be that bad?" Damian sighed through his nose, not bothering to respond, "Be ready to jump in because I'm not stopping the car."

"You're messing with me, right? Damian?? Hello?"

[disasterbijupiter]

G Gundam side story English translation, Ch. 3 part 3

(end of chapter 3!)

(start from beginning/original post) | (read previous part)

Everyone is watching the Shuffle’s battles.

Rain: “The Dark Shuffle……… what opponents they are……… Not just Lone Fox Seeking Defeat, but all of them are the strongest Shuffle in history!!”

Rain is becoming astounded, and suddenly she realizes.

Rain: “But, all of them……… No one is giving up………”

Rain looks to the Shuffle crew.

All of the crew members are intensely watching their respective battles.

Rain: “Why………??”

Rain watches with wonder. Then, the other fighters get out of their gundams and approach the Shuffle crew.

Siejima: “Hey! What’s going on?! It doesn’t look like they’re winning at all!!”

Rutger: “Look!! The corner post has started to enter into the atmostphere!!”

Above Neo Hong Kong, the corner post is parting the sea of clouds as it descends from the atmosphere.

Eric: “At this rate, Neo Hong Kong will be obliterated.”

Carlos: “The Shuffle Alliance is nothing but a name!!”

Siejima: “At least do something about this barrier! And then we’ll crush those Dark guys ourselves!”

Sijiema and company blame them.

Nastasha: “Be quiet!! Onlookers just shut up and watch!!”

Nastasha stands up to them, acting as a shield to Bunny and the others.

Sijiema: “Saying something like that, how can you feel so confident watching those doomed fights?!!”

Nastasha: “Hmph! You lot are cowards! Can’t you at least sit patient like Neo Italy and the rest over there?!”

Nastasha points at Michelo, on the Neros Gundam’s hand.

Michelo: “Haha! As for me, if it comes down to it I’ll just tag along with Master East! Right, Master?!”

Michelo calmly calls out to Undefeated of the East.

Undefeated of the East: “……… Hmph………”

Undefeated of the East ignores him with a dismissive air.

Michelo: “I’m shocked……… Well, well then maaaaybe I can count on Chapman??”

Michelo edges closer to Chapman.

Chapman: “!”

Chapman silently returns to his gundam’s cockpit.

Michelo: “Whaaaat, well then, I’ll prepare to escape on my own too!”

Shoulders slumped, Michelo hastily returns to his gundam.

Sijiema: “Ugh! Every single one of you is so unreliable!”

Sijiema trash talks them. Approaching from behind without a sound, Schwarz puts an arm around his neck.

Schwarz: “In that case, I think it’s best for you to stay quiet here.”

In his hand he’s holding a kunai.

Sijiema: “Ah……… Ahh……… I’ll do that for you……… Everyone, let’s go.”

Eric and the others: “Let’s do that………”

Sijiema and company head back toward their gundams in fear.

Nastasha: “Thanks for that, Schwarz.”

Schwarz: “Don’t mention it……… However, the Shuffle battle situation is now getting out of hand.”

Nastasha: “It’s certainly dire………”

Rain: “So then, as it stands are we unable to do anything………??”

Rain is disconcerted.

Shirley: “No……… Actually, we have what you’d call a secret weapon.”

Rain: “A secret weapon??”

Shirley: “Right……… So for our Maxter, we equipped a new gimmick for the finals.”

Zuisen & Keiun: “Our Dragon Gundam, too.”

Raymond: “Same here.”

Nastasha: “Of course, on our Bolt Gundam as well.”

One after another, all of the crew divulges.

Rain: “Then, if we could use them—”

Nastasha: “We’d win the fight! Definitely!!”

Zuisen & Keiun: “It’s something that powerful!”

Everyone is brimming with confidence.

Raymond: “However—”

Shirley: “We still haven’t integrated its pilot system………”

Rain: “What does that mean?”

Nastasha: “The gimmick’s installation to the gundam is complete……… But we haven’t opened the control circuits for it.”

Zuisen & Keiun: “Because there wasn’t time, we thought we would do it……… after the opening ceremony was over.”

Raymond: “As I thought, it’s the same as us……… I never thought that a toast at a food stall would wind up being fatal………”

Zuisen & Keiun and Raymond are apologetic.

Rain: “But if all we need to do is activate the systems, that could be done via remote control.”

Nastasha: “That’s not possible.”

Rain: “How come?”

Nastasha: “It’s this barrier.”

Shirley: “It seems that our voices are being amplified to reach Chibodee and the others, but transmission of mechanical data is being blocked.”

Rain: “That can’t be………”

Everyone is frustrated.

Rain: “I wonder if there isn’t a way………”

Nastasha: “If we could just open a hole in the barrier, even a small one.”

Shirley: “Then the activation protocol could be sent from that gap.”

All of them look bitterly at the barrier.

The barrier gleams unyieldingly.

Schwarz stares at its appearance and ponders.

Schwarz: “Destruction of the barrier………?”

Undefeated of the East: “Hm……… Schwarz, based on what I know you have a way, don’t you?”

Schwarz: “What do you mean? Undefeated of the East!”

Undefeated of the East: “Is it okay to say that here?”

Schwarz: “What??”

With a bold smile on his face, the Undefeated of the East heads toward the barrier alone. While enveloped in the barrier, he takes a step out.

Bunny: “Awwww, it’s not fair that it’s only him!”

Shirley: “It can’t be helped, he’s the former King of Hearts.”

Cath: “That allows him to pass through the barrier.”

Undefeated of the East: “Heheh……… Even though I retired, I’m still considered one of the Shuffle.”

Bunny: “Then, even if you die will you come back as one of the Dark??”

Undefeated of the East: “Perhaps?”

With a wry smile, the Undefeated of the East exits the barrier.

Bunny: “I’m gonna study to be an exorcist!!”

Shirley: “That’s stupid.”

Shirley chides Bunny.

X X X

Undefeated of the East: “Heheh………”

The Undefeated of the East makes his way toward Domon’s arena.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Hm?”

Domon: “M-Master??”

The two of them notice Undefeated of the East.

Undefeated of the East: “Hmph, are you calling me Master again?”

The Undefeated of the East mocks him.

Undefeated of the East: “Well fine, but in a rare opportunity the members of our school have all gathered! Come! Master Gundam!!”

The Undefeated of the East boards the Master Gundam, which comes passing through the barrier.

Undefeated of the East: “Elder sister disciple!! First, let’s make a move and face off!!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Interesting!!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat’s white Master Gundam stands at the ready opposite him.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Then, my Nine Tails Funnels!!”

Her rear funnel plates open, and all at once they fly out. Each one of them shoots an energy bullet into the path of the Undefeated of the East’s Master Gundam. The Undefeated’s Master Gundam repels those bullets with its wings.

Undefeated of the East: “Fire! Beam Cloth!!”

Launching a fabric-like Beam Cloth from both hands, the Undefeated of the East creates a formation. The Nine Tails Funnels which come flying in are blocked the Beam Cloth, scattering, which forces her to use beam attacks from a distance.

Undefeated of the East: “Rise up! Twelve Kings Tiles!”

Holding out both hands, the Undefeated of the East raises his fingers. In sync with his movements, clones of the Master Gundam rise from the cloth formation.

Undefeated of the East: “The earth is infinite!! The sky is ahead!!”

The sake cup held in the Undefeated of the East’s hand slams down and shatters. At the same time, the clones attack the funnels, and one by one the funnels lose their balance and fly around out of control.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “I see! You use Daisha Hei like that?!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat laughs.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “In that case, let me show you my new Xiao Hongchen move!!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat brings both hands together. She forms a tai chi ball between her palms, and as it spins the Master Gundam clones are sucked in. Inside the sphere, the clones return to a single mass of energy.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Spread out! Eight-Sided Formation!!”

As she yells, a bullet with the energy of the combined clones distorts space as it rockets toward the Undefeated of the East.

Undefeated of the East: “Ridiculous!!!”

The Undefeated of the East receives the energy as a straight punch.

Undefeated of the East: “Mmmmrrrgggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!”

Although he is pushed back, he fills his fist with power. The energy and the Undefeated’s fist struggle for dominance.

Undefeated of the East: “Break!!”

With his shout, he sends the energy bullet flying.

Undefeated of the East: “Detonation!!”

The energy runs along the surface of the sea, where it hits an island and causes a huge explosion.

X X X

The island is blown away without a trace. Everyone inside the barrier is watching the situation, dumbfounded.

Sijiema: “Wh-…… What the hell is that??”

Eric: “Hey……… are we gonna fight something like that??”

Rutger: “Big Neo Greek Boss! Can you hold up against that??”

Marcelot: “S-…… Somehow, I’ll manage.”

Marcelot is clearly bluffing.

X X X

The Undefeated of the East and Lone Fox Seeking Defeat continue to exchange blows.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “The same strong technique as always!”

Undefeated of the East: “Next I’ll use the 17th move of the West!!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Then what happens if I retaliate with the 235th of the North?!”

Undefeated of the East: “I’ll catch it and send it back with the 7th of the Mountain!!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “I’ll hit that back with the North-Northwest!!”

Undefeated of the East: “Before it hits, the 765th of the South-Southeast!!!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “In that case I’ll kick it up with the Left 128!!!”

Undefeated of the East: “I’ll steal the initiative with the Right Northwest by North!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “I’ll change the recipient with the Northwest Northeast!”

Undefeated of the East: “To continue, I’ll charge with the 8th Footing!!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “I’ll beat you to the punch by responding with Center Thousand Hands!!”

Undefeated of the East: “I’ll fire!!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Fire!!”

Undefeated of the East: “If you fire—!!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Time to fire!!”

Undefeated of the East & Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Fire, fire, fire, fire!!”

One after another, the two of them unleash their school’s special moves against each other.

Undefeated of the East: “The School of the Undefeated of the East!!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “The winds of the king!!!”

Undefeated of the East: “Zenshin Keiretsu.”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Tempa Kyoran.”

Both of them battle each other with countless fists.

Both of them: “Look! The East is burning reeeeedddd!!!!!!!!!”

The two Master Gundams connect their fists.

Undefeated of the East: “!!!!!!!”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “!!!!!!!”

The two glare at one another.

X X X

The crew members and Domon are watching those two’s battle in shocked amazement.

Domon: “Th-……… This is a true battle between schoolmates.”

Crew: “Amazing……… as expected from two masters!”

Schwarz: “We’ve been shown something great………”

Impressed, Schwarz suddenly notices something and watches. Both gundams’ fists are repeatedly regenerating.

Schwarz: “Regeneration of the fists………”

Schwarz gradually becomes convinced.

Schwarz: “It could be………”

X X X

Undefeated of the East: “Hmph……… Schwarz, that bastard, did he notice………?”

Inclining his head to where he sensed Schwarz’s presence, the Undefeated of the East gives him a glance. His fist gets knocked away by Lone Fox Seeking Defeat as she takes advantage of the opportunity.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Heheh, what’s wrong, little brother? Getting distracted at the end really isn’t like you.”

Undefeated of the East: “No, it’s nothing. As I’d expect, there’s no escaping my elder sister disciple’s eyes.”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “However, you have improved your skills as well.”

Undefeated of the East: “To a fair extent.”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat smiles kindly at Undefeated of the East, who wears a bitter smile. Together, they come out of their cockpits.

Undefeated of the East: “Domon! Why don’t you come over here as well, and introduce yourself again!”

Domon: “Yes!!”

Called by the Undefeated of the East, Domon exits his cockpit. Before the two of them, he drops to his knees and kowtows.

Domon: “I am the lowest-ranking member, Domon Kasshu, and once again I’m happy to meet………”

In the middle of his sentence, Domon suddenly realizes.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat has no right arm, and she was a one-armed fighter.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “What, this? Heheh, my younger brother disciple made me pay for something I did.”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat gives a strained laugh.

Domon: “Eh? But earlier Master said ‘the only person I couldn’t defeat.’”

Undefeated of the East: “Idiot, it’s not that I couldn’t defeat, but specifically ‘I didn’t defeat.’”

Domon: “Huh??”

Domon doesn’t really understand the meaning.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Hehe, it’s a matter of how you say it.”

Sighing with a bitter smile, Lone Fox Seeking Defeat places her hand on her armless right shoulder.

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “However, those days remain engraved on this lost arm.”

Undefeated of the East: “So this time, with Dark duties and such as second priority……… your true objective is……… as I thought………”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat: “Yes……… As you can imagine, it’s entirely about a personal grudge.”

Lone Fox Seeking Defeat smiles coldly.

To be continued……

(continue to next chapter)

[bellaatmclaren]

The Battle of the Paddock

[Bella is a promising, young social media talent. She ends up in working with McLaren for their 2023 race season, but has she bitten off a little more than she can chew?]

Lando Norris/OC, Charles Leclerc/OC George Russell/OC

Bella was awake long before her alarm. This was the day that she had been waiting for, for her whole life. It was a dream come true… so why did she feel so terrified?

Bella was a girl from a town called Rochester, just East of London. She had grown up as a normal girl with an eye for photography and later, developed this passion into videography. Starting as a weekend help for local wedding photographers, she was able to start to build an impressive portfolio. Bella ended up being accepted into Queen Mary university to study social media marketing. This helped her combine her keen eye for photography with a way to make it profitable and build her career further. Don’t get it wrong, Bella did love photographing weddings, but she felt as though she could do more, and she had a dream.

Bella’s father was a passionate sports fan, especially when it came to Formula One. Growing up, Bella had always enjoyed sitting with her father on the weekends to watch the likes of Vettel and Button race for victory. She had fond memories of watching Sebastian Vettel become the youngest winner, racing for the pole position for Red Bull. Holding onto this memory fondly, Bella decided that she wanted to be there, in the paddock and photographing the drivers in their day-to-day activities, practicing on the tracks, celebrating on the podiums, and everything else in between.

One January day, Bella received an email that was almost too good to be true. She had been recently working with various companies, helping them build an online profile through the likes of Instagram and more recently the ever-growing TikTok app. The email was from McLaren, they had seen her online presence and they needed a new social media assistant manager for the next race season. They were inviting her to interview with them at her earliest convenience to pitch some ideas on how to build up awareness around their new car and drivers ready for the new season.

Bella stared at her phone in disbelief, she was potentially going to end up in the paddock, where she had always dreamt of being. Time passed and the interview came and went without a hitch. Bella, was offered the position which she immediately took. Bella had pitched several ideas to the McLaren team which they had loved.

***

Bella rolled over and checked her phone, 05:03. She sighed and swung her legs over the edge of her bed. She’d said goodbye to her father the day before and boarded a train to Woking so she wouldn’t have to make the journey the day of the meeting. McLaren had put her up in a small B&B just a few miles away from their HQ. They were to send a car to collect her at seven and that’s all she knew. She had no idea what the first day would contain, all she knew was that she needed to bring all her kits with her in case there were perfect photo opportunities.

Bella hopped into the shower, got herself dressed and presentable, and was down in reception for a quarter to seven ready to go. Normally, Bella would have killed for a coffee but she was already so wired on nerves, she thought this would probably make it all worse. She was shaking as it was, full of adrenaline.

Dead on seven, a black car pulled up out front and Jim Harris jumped out to greet her. Jim oversaw McLaren’s media outlets; he had been the one who had personally scouted and hired Bella. It was a cold February day, accompanied by wind and rain, not ideal shooting conditions but Bella knew the HQ had to be large enough that they’d find some great locations inside.

“Isabella, it’s so nice to finally meet you in the flesh,” said Jim cheerfully.

“You too Jim, but please, call me Bella” Bella said, extending her hand and shaking Jim’s firmly.

Jim couldn’t have been too much older than Bella. She was twenty-three, and Jim had to be in his late twenties at maximum. He had a youthful face and was dressed in his McLaren-branded soft-shell jacket.

“Jump in, we have so much to get through already today”.

He gestured to the open door of the car. Bella climbed in and they made their way to McLaren’s Technology Centre.

In the car, Jim made a pleasant conversation with Bella about her thoughts on her first day. He asked how she was feeling and was quite sweet, trying to calm her.

“Remember, it’s not fear, it’s excitement. At least that’s what Lando tells us before a race”

That’s when it hit her. She was going to meet the drivers, in real life. Not these small little figures she saw on her TV screen or online. They were real people, living their dreams and Bella was going to be rubbing shoulders with them any time soon.

“It isn’t nerves, it’s excitement” was what Bella held onto, mentally repeating it to herself the whole short, ten-minute drive to the offices.

The building itself was an impressive piece of architecture, a huge curved building, a semi-circle with the other half being replaced with a lake structure, from above it was a perfect circle. Jim gave her a brief tour of the floor she was to be based on. Bella had a small office space in the social media room. A desk, various laptops and computers, tablets, and lots of storage space.

“Make this into whatever suits you,” Jim said, waving his arm around the space, “whatever gets those creative thoughts flowing, but just remember there will be nine months of the year where we’re flying between here and various countries so best to make sure it’s all portable!”

After introductions between herself and the rest of the media team, Jim left her in the hands of Aria, an intern who had been with McLaren for the last season. Aria was young and funny, and Bella took an instant shine to her.

“Look at you! Your first day here, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, I think. A bit apprehensive but I’m looking forward to it. I’m relaxed now I’m here and sat down,” Bella smiled.

“Honestly, you will have so much fun. McLaren is a great company to work for and I have loved every second. I just wish I could go out on the seasons and see the races in person.”

“You didn’t go last year?”

“No,” Aria sighed, “only the best in the team actually get flown out to spend their time there, and well, I’m still learning. I’m an intern so I’m not that valued. I do help a lot, I spend a lot of my time editing, writing captions, and posting but I’ve not taken any of the photos yet. But there’s still time!”

This made Bella nervous again. She didn’t know if she was going to be going out to Bahrain in late February, Jim hadn’t said either way and she hadn’t even thought about it. Maybe she wouldn’t even get to meet the drivers, just sit in her office sipping coffee and colour correcting others’ photos. Maybe when Jim had said it was one-on-one work, he meant just assisting with posting with one of the photographers, not the actual drivers.

After a few hours of Aria showing Bella around the office, and Bella showing Aria around her camera kit, Jim popped his head back around the door.

“Bella, could you come with me? You don’t need anything with you, just yourself is great.”

Bella followed him out in the corridor, and they started walking towards the lifts.

“Honestly Bella, I was so impressed with your portfolio that I wanted to kind of ‘chuck you into the deep end’, so they say” He pushed the button, to call the elevator. “We’ve decided to pair you up with someone special for this season, that’s if you’re willing to, and you get on well. I’m sure you will, it’s near on impossible not to with this one…”

They stepped into the elevator, and Bella’s mouth had gone dry. Who was he taking her to? And why did he look so smug?

She followed Jim down various corridors, stopping to say hello to the odd person here and there, occasional hasty introductions before being whisked off again down more of the maze. Finally, they came to another meeting room with glass walls. Bella could see there were others in the room but they had their backs to the glass. Jim opened the door.

“Bella, meet Lando Norris. You’ll be working with him closely this season, I hope.”

Lando Norris turned his head upon hearing his name and made eye contact with Bella. A huge smile broke across his face.

“Bella, it’s so nice to meet you! I’ve been waiting all day to find out about my new teammate. I hope you’re ready for some chaos!”

“Lando, less of the chaos. You’ll worry her before she’s even begun” Said Jim, as he turned to Bella “It’s not chaos, these lot can just be a bit unpredictable at times, it’s like herding cats, especially when it comes to this one.”

“I keep you on your toes, Jim, you love it really,” Said Lando playfully as he approached them.

Bella instinctively put her hand out to Lando, but he laughed.

“Bring it in for a hug, we’re practically family now”

Bella laughed nervously but gave Lando a brief hug. Jim left them alone to ‘get acquainted’ as he had put it. Bella was glad, she wanted to get to know Lando, what kind of material he wanted to produce, and how she could make this the best professional relationship she could. Her work head was firmly screwed on.

“So, Bella,” Lando said sitting at the table, “If we’re going to be traveling together, we’d better end up leaving this room as buddies”.

Bella smiled, Lando struck her as a super playful guy, especially from what she had seen on TV.

“I feel like that could be easily done, you just have to tell me what you want from me. What content do you want to put out there to your fans? What are we going for this year? Still your funny, approachable guy next door look or a more serious, mature version of Lando Norris?”

“I don’t want to be mature; I am happy where I am thanks. What are you trying to say about me?” Lando pulled a face.

“Oh no, I wasn’t… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Relax! I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I just want to have fun, I want them to see me as I am, none of this pouting and posing the other boys do. I mean, I can do a mean Max impression though, look.”

Lando sat back in his chair, crossed his arms, and scowled.

“Do not talk to me, I am world champion. I am Max Verstappen, I must win”.

He didn’t get much further without cracking up into laughter.

“Honestly, when you meet him, you’ll see what I mean. He’s so serious all the time. Since getting his title, he’s gotten all uptight. He needs to relax and just enjoy it all.”

“Don’t worry, because this year’s world champion will be you, I can feel it already” Bella smiled.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about. Let’s get this show on the road”.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

NYT: Racked by rain and enraptured by a QAnon-infused "miracle cure" called "medbeds"

Eli Saslow at NYT:

The company was co-founded in 2020 by Warren Armour, a conservative with no media experience who runs a flooring company in Tennessee, but Michael admired the Patriot Party News slogan when he first saw it shared on Facebook last year: “If you hate mainstream media, you are going to love us!” Michael started watching the site’s daily videos about election fraud and vaccine pseudoscience, some of which have now been viewed more than a million times. He signed up for the company’s social media platform and paid $8.99 a month to join the audio channel, which functions like an old ham radio and promised him the chance to “meet comrades in our battle for the soul of America.”

On some days, Michael listened to the channel for as many as 12 hours, with the audio feed piped directly into his hearing aids to drown out the tedium of his pain. He narrated his daily ranching tasks for the group and sent photos of his crops. Other members responded with recipes, virtual prayers for rain and a steady drumbeat of extremist political ideology that increasingly mirrored his own. In a fracturing country, here was an echo chamber with the power to turn fringe conspiracy theories into widely accepted political dogmas — that the Covid vaccine was poison, the mainstream media was deceitful and the federal government was controlled by a “deep state cabal” that had stolen the 2020 election from former President Donald J. Trump and was now trying to orchestrate his assassination.

[...] Cheryl Chesebro, 61, had known her husband to be a realist for most of his life. Michael had enlisted in the Army at 17 because he couldn’t afford to pay for college and then agreed to jump out of planes for a $2,500 sign-up bonus. But after a total of 42 surgeries on his back, shoulders, ankles and knees, he’d come to distrust the government he’d served. He invested in wind and solar power so his family didn’t have to rely on the U.S. power grid. He bought gold in case the U.S. financial system collapsed and then started collecting shoe boxes full of foreign currency from the Middle East and Africa, believing that it could eventually be as valuable as the U.S. dollar. For the first time in his life, he became consumed by politics and then enamored with Trump, another government skeptic who sometimes spoke in the language of conspiracy theories. The former president had helped popularize lies about Barack Obama’s birthplace, widespread election fraud and the “hoax” of climate change — all of which had become part of the founding DNA of Patriot Party News. [...]

Of all the wild conspiracies he’d discovered on Patriot Party News, the concept of medbeds had initially struck Michael as the most far-fetched, even if it was also among the most popular. Every few days, someone else on the platform shared an illustration of a futuristic-looking chamber, sometimes with a doctored image of Trump superimposed in the foreground. The founder of the site, Armour, sometimes mentioned videos or podcasts about medbeds that had become popular on the far-right corners of Telegram, Discord and Rumble, and Michael clicked on the links, as did millions of others. The videos claimed with no evidence that the U.S. military was already in possession of advanced, or possibly even alien, technology that could cure all disease and extend human life. There were said to be at least three types of medbeds already in existence in secret military tunnels. One, a “holographic medbed,” scanned the body to instantly diagnose and then heal any sickness, no matter how severe. Another bed was able to regenerate personal DNA so people could regrow missing limbs in a few minutes. A third was designed for reverse aging and could rewind people’s bodies to the age and condition of their choosing.

The only holdup, according to the videos, was that a collection of liberal billionaires kept hoarding the technology for themselves. On the Patriot Party News audio feed, people speculated that medbeds wouldn’t be available to the public until Trump was back in control of the White House, at which point everyone would be invited to make appointments for free at a secret underground military base. “We are about to cross that start line into our medbed future,” said an Australian woman who called herself Skye Prince and claimed to be a military expert, in a video shared on Patriot Party News that has been viewed several million times. “We are leaving a life of poverty, ill health, uncertainty, and moving into wealth, abundance, perfect health. You could almost say we are about to be born again.” “Thank God the wait is almost over!” Michael heard someone say on the audio channel in the last days of spring. “Medbeds are finally coming. I hope I can get my mom to the front of the line since she’s Stage 4.”

[...] Instead, there was only repetition — the same medbed fantasies repeated over and over each day on the audio feed until the initial shock wore off within a few weeks and Michael’s skepticism wore down into curiosity and then into the beginnings of hope. He knew from experience that the military was capable of harboring secret, advanced technology. He remembered talking to members of his unit on a satellite phone years before one was made available to the public. “The military always gets the fancy toys way ahead of anyone else, so I suppose it’s plausible,” he said on the audio channel.

He’d already tried and failed to treat his pain by scheduling dozens of appointments each year through his health care with Veterans Affairs. He’d tried fentanyl, Percocet, Vicodin, acupuncture, water therapy, nerve blockers, deep-tissue massage and light therapy. Following his doctors’ advice had resulted in only temporary reprieves, along with dozens of opioid prescriptions and an elective surgery that led to a life-threatening staph infection. ���The conventional route hasn’t done me any good,” he said on the channel. “When you’re desperate, you’ll try anything. This whole medbed thing has become personal for me.” It was part of Armour’s strategy when he first started Patriot Party News from his home after the 2020 presidential election: to build an audience by focusing on personal issues such as religion and health. He’d watched other far-right media sites like Victory Channel, The Elijah List and Right Side Broadcasting Network amass millions of subscribers in what Armour called the “Christian, MAGA universe” by mimicking Trump’s tendency to favor emotional appeals over facts.

[...] Several other companies had started producing their own versions of medbeds in the last few years. One company, Tesla BioHealing, had purchased a half-dozen old motels in places like Tampa, Fla., Dubuque, Iowa, and Butler, Pa., and then turned them into “medbed centers,” where each room came equipped with proprietary canisters under the bed that provided what the company called “life force energy.” Other groups were running scams on Facebook and charging $800 for “redemption cards” with a photograph of Trump’s face and a code that they said would provide secret passage into the underground military bases where medbeds were said to be ready for use. Baxter’s company was still in its infancy, and he had sold some of his products to churches, private clubs or millionaires who he said were “invested in longevity.” The medbeds at Andrea’s spa were the first to be available by appointment to the public, and he planned to expand into spas across the United States and Mexico. Andrea had decided to charge $85 an hour for use of the beds, but insurance didn’t cover the experimental treatment, and she didn’t believe in turning anyone away.

The New York Times takes a look at the QAnon obsession with “medbeds”, which are a “miracle cure” rooted in pseudoscience.

[warningsine]

DUBAI, United Arab Emirates (AP) — A helicopter carrying Iranian President Ebrahim Raisi, the country’s foreign minister and other officials apparently crashed in the mountainous northwest reaches of Iran on Sunday, sparking a massive rescue operation in a fog-shrouded forest as the public was urged to pray.

The likely crash came as Iran under Raisi and Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei launched an unprecedented drone-and-missile attack on Israel last month and has enriched uranium closer than ever to weapons-grade levels.

Iran has also faced years of mass protests against its Shiite theocracy over an ailing economy and women’s rights — making the moment that much more sensitive for Tehran and the future of the country as the Israel-Hamas war inflames the wider Middle East.

Raisi was traveling in Iran’s East Azerbaijan province. State TV said what it called a “hard landing” happened near Jolfa, a city on the border with the nation of Azerbaijan, some 600 kilometers (375 miles) northwest of the Iranian capital, Tehran. Later, state TV put it farther east near the village of Uzi, but details remained contradictory.

Traveling with Raisi were Iran’s Foreign Minister Hossein Amirabdollahian, the governor of Iran’s East Azerbaijan province and other officials and bodyguards, the state-run IRNA news agency reported. One local government official used the word “crash,” but others referred to either a “hard landing” or an “incident.”

Neither IRNA nor state TV offered any information on Raisi’s condition in the hours afterward. However, hard-liners urged the public to pray for him. State TV later aired images of the faithful praying at Imam Reza Shrine in the city of Mashhad, one of Shiite Islam’s holiest sites, as well as in Qom and other locations across the country. State television’s main channel aired the prayers nonstop.

“The esteemed president and company were on their way back aboard some helicopters and one of the helicopters was forced to make a hard landing due to the bad weather and fog,” Interior Minister Ahmad Vahidi said in comments aired on state TV. “Various rescue teams are on their way to the region but because of the poor weather and fogginess it might take time for them to reach the helicopter.”

IRNA called the area a “forest” and the region is known to be mountainous as well. State TV aired images of SUVs racing through a wooded area and said they were being hampered by poor weather conditions, including heavy rain and wind.

A rescue helicopter tried to reach the area where authorities believe Raisi’s helicopter was, but it couldn’t land due to heavy mist, emergency services spokesman Babak Yektaparast told IRNA.

Long after the sun set, Iranian government spokesman Ali Bahadori Jahromi acknowledged that “we are experiencing difficult and complicated conditions” in the search.

“It is the right of the people and the media to be aware of the latest news about the president’s helicopter accident, but considering the coordinates of the incident site and the weather conditions, there is ‘no’ new news whatsoever until now,” he wrote on the social platform X. “In these moments, patience, prayer and trust in relief groups are the way forward.”

Khamenei himself also urged the public to pray.

“We hope that God the Almighty returns the dear president and his colleagues in full health to the arms of the nation,” Khamenei said, drawing an “amen” from the audience he was addressing.

Raisi, 63, a hard-liner who formerly led the country’s judiciary, is viewed as a protégé of Khamenei and some analysts have suggested he could replace the 85-year-old leader after Khamenei’s death or resignation from the role.

Raisi had been on the border with Azerbaijan early Sunday to inaugurate a dam with Azerbaijan’s President Ilham Aliyev. The dam is the third one that the two nations built on the Aras River. The visit came despite chilly relations between the two nations, including over a gun attack on Azerbaijan’s Embassy in Tehran in 2023, and Azerbaijan’s diplomatic relations with Israel, which Iran’s Shiite theocracy views as its main enemy in the region.

Iran flies a variety of helicopters in the country, but international sanctions make it difficult to obtain parts for them. Its military air fleet also largely dates back to before the 1979 Islamic Revolution. IRNA published images it described as Raisi taking off in what resembled a Bell helicopter, with a blue-and-white paint scheme previously seen in published photographs.

Raisi won Iran’s 2021 presidential election, a vote that saw the lowest turnout in the Islamic Republic’s history. Raisi is sanctioned by the U.S. in part over his involvement in the mass execution of thousands of political prisoners in 1988 at the end of the bloody Iran-Iraq war.

Under Raisi, Iran now enriches uranium at nearly weapons-grade levels and hampers international inspections. Iran has armed Russia in its war on Ukraine, as well as launched a massive drone-and-missile attack on Israel amid its war against Hamas in the Gaza Strip. It also has continued arming proxy groups in the Mideast, like Yemen’s Houthi rebels and Lebanon’s Hezbollah.

Meanwhile, mass protests in the country have raged for years. The most recent involved the 2022 death of Mahsa Amini, a woman who had been earlier detained over allegedly not wearing a hijab, or headscarf, to the liking of authorities. The monthslong security crackdown that followed the demonstrations killed more than 500 people and saw over 22,000 detained.

In March, a United Nations investigative panel found that Iran was responsible for the “physical violence” that led to Amini’s death.

President Joe Biden was briefed by aides on the Iran crash, but administration officials have not learned much more than what is being reported publicly by Iran state media, said a senior administration official, who was not authorized to comment publicly and spoke on condition of anonymity.

[goldenempyrean]

Paying The Price

〚 Day 5 - Preventative Measures (Not Taken)  〛

〚 Pairing - Sanvers 〛

〚 Summary - Alex ends up paying the price when she doesn't take preventative measures at work. At least she'll have maggie to look after her. 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙〘 Sicktember 2023 Masterlist 〙

“Do you not think you should take a coat love?  It’s meant to get a little chilly later on according to the weather.” Maggie called out as Alex finished making her to-go cup of coffee into her flask, “Pretty sure its gonna rain too by the look of those clouds.” 

The agent shook her head and waved her off with a reassuring smile, “It’ll be fine, I’m on roll to do a clinic shift anyway so it’s not like I’m gonna be out in the field or anything like that. I’ll just end up carrying it if I take it. 

That was true. The DEO had recently got wind of a small clinic on the east side of the city which was specially made to treat aliens and offer things like vaccines and just provide general care to those individuals which didn’t feel comfortable in a regular clinic. As such, when the DEO found out, J’onn offered to provide agents as a form of security there as well as to keep things in order. Alex liked her shifts at the clinic, after all, the waiting room chitchat often inadvertently provided inside knowledge to help with ongoing issues, not only that but the environment itself was warm and friendly and the people there seemed to trust her too – she’d even made some friends. 

“Alright then, have a good day at work darling.” Her girlfriend smiled, giving Alex a small kiss before she left, “Don’t forget you’re on food pickup duty tonight too.” She added playfully before beginning to make her own coffee, “I’m thinking pizza?” 

Alex smiled as she picked up her bag and turned to leave, “I won’t forget, don’t worry! Pizza sounds good, alright I’m gonna head off, see you later, have a good day at work babe.” She said before leaving the apartment and making her way out to her car. 

It wasn’t a long drive, about 40 minutes or so. When she arrived, Alex stepped out of the car and involuntarily shivered at the icy chill of the air nipping at her arms, maybe she should’ve brought a coat after all she thought, shaking her head with an eye roll knowing her girlfriend was right. At least she’d be inside for her shift though. As Alex walked through the clinic doors, she immediately noticed the bustling atmosphere. Aliens of various shapes and sizes filled the waiting area, patiently waiting for their turn to be seen by the doctors. It was definitely a lot busier than usual. 

As the agent made her way to the small security desk to clock in, she couldn’t help but inwardly groan at the sight of the other agent on shift. Agent Wilson was one of those guys who never failed to get on her nerves. Something about his cocky, nonchalant attitude always seemed to rub her the wrong way. 

“Agent Danvers it’s always nice of you to show.” He turned around upon hearing her footsteps approach, “I suppose you’ve got the delight of my company, how lucky.” The agent smirked before rooting around in his side pocket before pulling out black surgical mask and putting it on. 

"I'm here to do my job, just like you," Alex replied, choosing to ignore his sarcastic remark, "What’s with the mask?” Wearing a mask wasn’t required or was it advertised so she couldn’t help but question it especially considering no other agents had chosen to wear them in the past. 

  Agent Wilson chuckled condescendingly. "Precautions, Danvers," he said with a hint of mockery in his voice. "You know, to protect myself from any alien bugs. I don’t want my immune system being invaded by foreign bodies." 

She raised an eyebrow, feeling a sense of annoyance creep up within her. She was well aware of the potential risks of working in close proximity to sick aliens, but she had always trusted her strong immune system to keep her healthy. She prided herself on being cautious and responsible when it came to her work, but in this instance, she had overlooked the possibility of catching something.  

"Well, that's your choice," Alex finally replied, her voice laced with a hint of annoyance. "But I'm not here to alienate anyone or treat them like threats. These beings are just seeking medical help, same as any human. And besides, I've been doing shifts here for months without any issues." 

Shaking off her annoyance, Alex walked past him and made her way to the clinic's staff room to change into her uniform, the clinic preferred them to wear their own brand of gear, just as an extra precaution which was understandable.   

As she made her way to one of the smaller lockers, she put down her bag and began changing. It was only then she noticed the slump attitudes of the attending staff. The ambiance of sniffles and coughing, like that of the reception, seemed to fill this room too and spotting one of the Doctors she was familiar with Alex decided to ask what was wrong. 

"Morning," Alex greeted with a friendly smile. "Is everything alright? I couldn't help but notice that a lot of people seem to be under the weather today." 

The doctor sighed tiredly and nodded, confirming Alex's observations. "Yes, unfortunately, it seems that there's a flu-like bug going around. We've been seeing an increase in patients with respiratory symptoms over the past couple of days. We're doing our best to provide care, but it's definitely keeping us busy." 

Alex's concern grew as she processed the information. "Is it affecting the staff too? You don’t look too good yourself Doc.” While most of the staff were aliens themselves and did have a little bit more protective, there was still a good number of human employees. 

Dr. Ramirez nodded again, a hint of weariness in their eyes. "Yeah, a few of our staff members have fallen ill as well. It's a bit of a challenge, this strain is appearing to be highly contagious, but we’ll get through it. We have some people on stand-by to cover if need be.” 

Alex's eyes widened a little. The flu was bad news, especially in a clinic where a diverse range of alien species sought treatment. She couldn't help but wonder if Agent Wilson's decision to wear a mask was more justified than she had initially thought. 

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Alex asked, her determination to assist in any way she could shining through. 

Dr. Ramirez's weary expression brightened a little at her offer. "Actually, there is something you could do," they replied gratefully. "Since we're short-staffed due to many doctors and nurses falling ill. If you could lend a hand with triaging patients and assisting in basic medical procedures, it would be a tremendous help." 

Without hesitation, Alex nodded, her sense of duty and compassion driving her forward. "Of course, I'll do whatever I can. Just tell me what needs to be done." 

For the remainder of the morning, she continued to help out where necessary, leaving security down to the other agent. It was definitely a lot faster paced but with her background in biochemistry she was well within her depth. By lunchtime it seems her efforts were paying off as the clinic seemed to slow down a little and she was given the go ahead to return back to her position. 

  As Alex made her way back to the security desk, she couldn't help but feel a wave of exhaustion wash over her. The adrenaline and determination that had fuelled her earlier were slowly waning, replaced by a growing fatigue. She attributed it to the increased workload and the emotional toll of seeing so many sick patients. 

Agent Wilson looked up from his desk as Alex approached, his expression filled with surprise. "You're back already? I thought you'd be stuck over there forever, playing doctor." 

Ignoring his snide remark, Alex mustered a weak smile. "It was a bit chaotic, but we managed to get things under control. The staff appreciated the help." 

Wilson raised an eyebrow, a hint of grudging admiration in his voice. "Well, I guess you're not completely useless after all." 

She huffed, shooting the agent a dirty look, “Look if you’ve got a problem with me, leave it at the door. Don’t bring that attitude into- wor- Hh'iishoo! Huh’tshoo!” She quickly bent to the side to catch her sneezes into cupped hands, sniffling at the feeling of subtle pressure rising in her sinuses. 

“I don’t think that’s hygienic Danvers.” He shook his head, as the agent went to go grab some tissues from a nearby box. 

She sighed, realising that Agent Wilson was somewhat right. Sneezing into her hands wasn't the best practice, especially considering the contagious nature of the flu-like bug going around. She quickly discarded the used tissues into a nearby bin and reached for a hand sanitiser bottle on the security desk, squeezing some onto her palms and rubbing them together. 

"You're right, my bad," Alex admitted, her voice slightly muffled by her stuffed nose.  

Agent Wilson's mocking wavered slightly as he observed Alex's tired appearance or maybe it was the fact that Alex Danvers actually apologised to him, "Wow, an apology from Danvers. You have a fever or something?” 

“Just leave it.” Alex's voice was tinged with exhaustion and frustration. She didn't feel like entertaining Agent Wilson's sudden concern. The fatigue that had settled over her earlier was now accompanied by body aches and a growing headache. She had been so focused on helping at the clinic that she hadn't noticed her own symptoms creeping in. 

As the day progressed, her energy waned, and she found herself struggling to focus. Her body felt heavy, and she was occasionally having to turn away to muffle raspy coughs into her elbow which only led to her throat becoming sore. But she tried to ignore it. She had blamed the AC at first, it was just turned up too high... yeah. That was it. 

But with each passing hour, her condition deteriorated further. The fatigue intensified, making it difficult for her to stand upright. Her head throbbed with every movement, and the touch of a fever began to set in, leaving her feeling alternately hot and cold, as beads of sweat lined her brow all-while chills ran up her arms. 

“Don’t you look healthy.” The male agent had commented snidely the next time Alex had learnt her head back against the wall. 

Alex's patience was wearing thin, and she shot him a glare. "I'm not feeling well, okay? So can you please just lay off with the comments?" Her voice was tinged with irritation and exhaustion before giving in to the burning at the back of her throat as she gave a few chesty sounding coughs into her elbow. 

Agent Wilson seemed taken aback by her response, his mocking demeanour fading momentarily. "Oh... I didn't realise you were actually not feeling good." he mumbled, his tone softening, “Sorry.” 

Unbeknownst to her, a kind-hearted doctor, Dr. K'ora, had been in earshot and had noticed the agents declining condition. She approached her with a warm smile, "Excuse me, Agent Danvers, may I borrow you for a moment?” 

Alex nodded, looking over her shoulder to confirm it was okay with Wilson and he waved her off. She felt a sudden tickle in her nose, a telltale sign that a sneeze was imminent. She quickly turned away, covering her face with her elbow, and let out a series of forceful sneezes. "Huh'kshhoo! Huh-choo! Huh'tshoo!" she sneezed, her body shaking with the force of each. 

Dr. K'ora  gestured towards a nearby tissue box, concern evident in her eyes. "Goodness, bless you. I think it’d be a good idea to let me take a look at you, Agent Danvers. You don't look well at all." The doctor commented as she escorted the agent towards a small side room. 

"Thank you," Alex said weakly, her voice hoarse and barely audible. "I didn't realise I was feeling this bad until now." She reached up to rub her temples, trying to alleviate the pounding headache that had settled in. 

Dr. K'ora placed a gentle hand on Alex's shoulder, her touch comforting. "It's not uncommon for people to push through and ignore their own health when they're focused on helping others," she said kindly. "But it's important to take care of yourself too. Let me check your symptoms and see what's going on." 

Alex nodded, grateful for the doctor's understanding. She sat back in the chair, allowing Dr. K'ora to examine her. The doctor felt her forehead, noting the warmth radiating from her skin, and listened to her lungs with a stethoscope. After a thorough examination, Dr. K'ora stepped back, a concerned expression on her face. 

"I'm sorry to say, Agent Danvers, but it seems you've caught the flu that's been going around," Dr. K'ora explained gently. "Your symptoms—fatigue, headache, body aches, coughing, and sneezing—are all indicative of the flu. It's important that you take some time off and rest." 

Alex's heart sank. She had hoped it was just a passing illness, but it seemed she was in for a rough few days. "I’m sorry, is this going to cause a problem with staffing? My shift isn’t due for end for a few hours yet.” 

Dr. K'ora smiled kindly. "It happens to the best of us. I will inform your superiors and arrange for someone to pick you up. In the meantime, please make yourself comfortable here." 

As the doctor left to inform the necessary personnel, Alex settled into the small room, grateful for the opportunity to rest. She curled up on the examination table, wrapping herself in a blanket provided by the clinic. The fatigue weighed heavily on her, and her body felt achy and weak. 

Time passed slowly as she lay there, her mind wandering through a haze of fever and discomfort. She thought about Maggie and how she would react when she found out. She hoped her girlfriend wouldn't worry too much, knowing that she had a habit of being overprotective. 

As if on cue, a soft knock on the door interrupted Alex's thoughts. She weakly called out, giving permission for the person to enter. To her relief, it was a familiar face—Maggie. Alex's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her girlfriend, a mix of worry and tenderness evident on her face. 

“I heard you weren’t feeling well, poor thing.” She soothed, letting her hand come to rest over the warm forehead of the agent as she came to sit beside her. 

Alex leaned into Maggie's touch, finding solace in her presence. "Hey," she whispered hoarsely, a weak smile gracing her lips. "I didn't expect you to come all the way here." 

Maggie brushed a strand of hair away from Alex's forehead gently. "Of course I would come," she replied softly. "You're not feeling well, and I wanted to be here for you. How are you holding up?" 

Alex let out a weak chuckle, followed by a cough. "I've been better," she admitted. 

"You always put others first, Alex. It's time to let someone take care of you now." Maggie’s voice was filled with concern and affection as she offered her arms out to her girlfriend, pulling her into a warm hug. 

In that moment, Alex realised how lucky she was to have Maggie by her side. She buried her face in Maggie's shoulder, feeling a mix of gratitude and vulnerability wash over her. Maggie's presence provided comfort and reassurance, reminding Alex that she didn't have to face this illness alone. 

As they sat there, wrapped in each other's embrace, Alex's fatigue started to catch up with her. The weight of her eyelids became heavier, and her body begged for rest. Maggie sensed her exhaustion and gently guided Alex to lie down on the examination table, adjusting the blanket to keep her warm. 

"Should we get you home, hm?" Maggie whispered, her voice filled with tenderness. "We can stop on the way and pick up some soup from that takeout you like, that might help you feel better. Whatever you need I’m sure we can get it.” 

Alex nodded weakly, her eyes fluttering closed. "That sounds... nice, but what about your pizza?" she murmured, already feeling the pull of sleep tugging at her, “’Mm tired Maggs.” 

“Pizza can wait, what you need is something easy right now. I know you’re tired baby, you can go to sleep in the car alright?” 

“Thanks.” 

Maggie sat by her side, gently stroking Alex's hair, a soft smile on her face. "Always, love. Now, let’s get you home.” 

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[theresawritesstuff]

Maisel: Always finding excuses to stay with each other

More season 5 fix it ficlet

Ever since he'd gotten back from California, Midge had seldom passed a night without winding up in Lenny's arms. 

It started innocently enough. A drink after her set. A heart to heart.

Another hotel room. 

The walls weren't blue this time but the activities certainly still were.

Another show (his this time). Another drink. 

Her parents were out of town. Joel had the kids.

And so it became another very blue night in a not so blue room.

They went on like this for weeks, pulling out nearly every excuse in the book just as to why they should stay close to one another as the evening drew to a close.

Some schmuck was making a pass at her and not taking the hint.

He was avoiding running into an old dealer.

They needed coffee but not diner coffee.

She was cold.

It looked like rain. Somewhere. Probably.

On and on and on.

The excuse itself hardly mattered. They both knew the real reason they always left together. Always ended the night wrapped up in the other's embrace.

They just weren't brave enough to say it.

Until the night before he had to leave again.

"I've been thinking…" Midge ventured as they lay sated from yet another round in her bed.

Lenny lolled his head over to look at her.

She kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling. "They've got phones in California, right?"

"So I've been told," he replied.

"And planes that travel in both directions."

Lenny propped himself on an elbow, giving her his full attention.

"...Maybe we should use them." She turned hesitantly, meeting his eyes. "It would be tough being on opposite coasts, sure, but we could try…"

"What are you saying, Midge?"

She bit her lip, looking down at the mattress as she summoned all her courage.

"I'm saying I don't want another nebulous goodbye. And as fun as this has been, I need more than just I'll see you when I see you because… I think I'm in love with you, Lenny."

"Which orgasm finally did the trick?" he wondered impishly.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest as she swatted him in reprimand, pulling her in close to himself as he placed a tender kiss to her lips. "I love you, too."

He exhaled a sigh, trailing his fingers lazily along her hairline. 

"You know, I realized something the other night," he admitted quietly.

She looked up into his eyes, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I realized I haven't been arrested once in the time I've been back. Not on any night I thought I might get the pleasure of your company."

"Three whole weeks," she praised teasingly. "Is that a new record for you?"

Lenny chuckled, absently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Something like that."

"And seeing little old me was all it took?" 

She smirked, putting on her best Lenny impression, "So sorry officer. Can't tonight. I've got a hot date later. If you want to book me you'll need to talk to my manager."

"I must be better behaved when properly motivated," he shrugged.

"So I should write you a few blowjob IOUs to keep you out of trouble on the west coast?" she quipped.

"No I–well I mean it wouldn't hurt if you're serious, but what I meant is you're good for me, Midge. Probably too good."

She smiled softly tucking herself against his chest, listening to the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat.

"You should know I've been hopelessly in love with you for quite some time now," he murmured. "Nice knowing it's finally reciprocated."

"Very much so." 

She worried her lip quietly before asking, "You're really up for this? Giving a bi-coastal romance a go?"

Lenny shrugged, holding her a little tighter.

"It won't be so bad. Kitty's school lets out for the summer next month. After that I was thinking we might see how the east coast treats us for a while. There's a place in the village I think I could swing now. We could… I dunno. Take the kids to Coney Island or something. Go to dinner a couple times. See how this works long term."

Midge smiled at the thought. "I'd love that."

"Then it's settled. A month long distance."

"Calling now on the table," she reminded him.

"I think we could manage it."

"There's always letters too if the time difference gets tricky."

Lenny smirked, shifting so that he could kiss her properly again. "I promise to pen you the most salacious notes to ever grace your mailbox."

She felt herself grin, resting her forehead to his. "Can't wait."

[espys-art-stuff]

This has been brushed under the table by Wall Street (who own Norfolk Southern) and the Ohio/Pennsylvania govts, but reporting on it because it's a disaster: As a result of rail corruption/mismanagement (and USgov thanos snapping the rail strikes), a Norfolk Southern chemical freight train was derailed and spilled its load on Feb 3 near East Palestine (a town on the very eastern side of Ohio), which then apparently exploded. [Apparently. Lots of claims going around, but I can't find a source.] They decided to burn the vinyl chloride to stop it from leeching into the environment further, because letting it leech into the air was better I guess. This is relevant for anyone living in Ohio, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and potentially Western New York. The chemicals reported to be carried were Vinyl Chloride [carcinogen with a boiling point of 8F/-13C that releases dangerous gases into the atmosphere], Ethylene Glycol Monobutyl Ether, Ethylhexyl Acrylate [carcinogen], and Isobutylene. The train was 50 cars long.

Immediate effects have shown up in East Ohio and West PA, including reports of "acrid smells", as well as smoke clouds and fish, birds, and foxes turning up dead. Contaminants are confirmed to have reached the Ohio River and have leeched into the water supply of vulnerable towns in West Virginia. Local water sources and well water should be avoided and treated with scrutiny, as far as Eastern/southern Ohio, Northern WV, and Western PA. It is unclear what other water supplies have been contaminated, but veering on the side of caution for now is better - tests are still being taken and the situation is developing.

As a result of the burn, Phosgene gas and Hydrogen Chloride are spreading into the atmosphere. Hydrogen Chloride, now pumped into the air as a result of the burn, bonds with water vapor and turns into Hydrochloric Acid. This may cause acid rain. The wind is blowing west to northeast and affects Eastern Ohio, Pennsylvania and potentially, should it reach far enough, parts of Western NY (though it's unclear how far this is going to spread). This will affect people and animals over the long term on a scale comparable to 9/11 and some of the worst oil spills, and was entirely preventable had rail companies not cut corners on the operation and safety of their trains and train routes. Additionally, two more trains with hazardous material have derailed in South Carolina and Texas, though no known burns have occurred from those yet.

[ccohanlon]

how i live

I woke at midnight, last night, to a hard sou’westerly and the floor moving in three directions at once — pitching, rolling, rising-and-falling. Now, six hours later, the wind has moderated. Everything is still. The rest of the world is obscured by grey mist and sporadic showers, as if the sky has fallen across the shore.

I climb up a short ladder to the companionway to check that all is well on deck — it’s the first thing I do every morning — then I return to my bunk to download email and read a couple of news sites on a laptop before my wife wakes and we have a cup of coffee together across the varnished teak table that separates our bunks.

We talk about what we want to do today and waste a minute or two trying to agree a time-table before giving up. For half a decade, we have scraped by with a minimum of routine or planning. We are singularly unadept at making lists or coordinating diaries. We end up doing most things together. Today, we will pick up some paint and shackles at a chandlery and find a local metal fabricator to repair or replicate a damaged stainless steel stanchion. We also have to buy some groceries. But first I want to repair our rubber dinghy.

My wife and I live on a 32-foot sailboat. It is a life-raft of sorts. It is also an island on which we are trying to regain an unsettled but sheltered freedom after several years of being homeless. Most days, we feel like castaways, with no hope of ever being rescued.

It’s hard to explain how we ended up here. Moving aboard was not a ‘lifestyle choice’ but an act of quiet desperation. We had dropped out of a life in which I had somehow ended up running two well-known, medium-sized companies, one of them publicly listed — before those roles, I had been a musician, gambler, seaman, smuggler, photographer, magazine editor, and governmental adviser — and we had taken to wandering slowly across Europe, the UK, and North Africa. After a year holed up on the southern coast of Spain, a few miles east of Gibraltar, riding out the worst of the pandemic, we moved to southern Italy, where we acquired, and set about restoring, a small ruin, part of servants’ quarters attached to a 16th century Spanish castle, in a village not far from Lecce, in Puglia. We had just completed the work, two years later, when the local Questura, the office of the Carabinieri that oversees Italian immigration, rejected our third application for temporary residence and issued a formal instruction to us to leave Italy — and Europe’s Schengen zone.

The boat was not something we thought through in any detail. I had spent a lot of time at sea in my youth and had lived on sailing boats of various sizes on the Channel coasts of England and France, as well as in the Mediterranean. Which is to say, I had an understanding of their discomforts. But the prospect of resuming a life that, before we ended up in southern Italy, involved moving every three months — not just from one temporary accommodation to another but from one country to another, so as not to contravene the terms of our largely visa-less travel — had exhausted us. I made an offer on a cheap, neglected, 45-year-old, fibreglass sloop I had come across online and organised a marine surveyor to look it over for me. He gave it a cautious thumbs up.

I won’t forget my wife’s dolorous expression, a month later, when she saw the boat for the first time. It was in an industrial area of Southampton, on a dreich morning in early spring — bitterly cold, windy, and raining. Around us, the Itchen River’s ebb had revealed swathes of black, foul-smelling mud. Raised far from the sea, on the plains of north-eastern Oklahoma, my wife told me later she had been praying that our journey to this glum backwater was part of some elaborate practical joke.

There is a whole genre of YouTube videos created by those who live on sailboats full-time and voyage all over the world. The most popular, the so-called ‘influencers’, are young(ish) couples or families with capacious, often European-built, plastic catamarans or monohulls. Their videos focus less on the gritty, day-to-day grind of boat maintenance and passage-making and more on sojourns in ancient, stone-built harbours in the Mediterranean, white, sandy beaches and palm-fringed cays in the Caribbean, or improbably blue lagoons and solitary atolls in the South Pacific, where they barbecue fresh fish, paddle-board, kite-surf and practice yoga and aerial silks for the envy of hundreds of thousands of followers. My wife’s and my life aboard together is nothing like any of this.

We are both in our sixties — I am just a year away from seventy — and we have spent more than a decade on the move around the world, at first following eclectic opportunities for employment then, when those opportunities receded, in search of somewhere we might be able to settle with very little money. Four months after moving aboard our boat, we still think of ourselves as vagabond travellers, our boat a shambolic, floating vardo that we haven’t yet managed to turn into a home. We’re not really ‘cruisers’, despite the sense of community we sometimes find among them, but we are seafarers — historically, a marginal existence driven by necessity. A recent, 150-nautical-mile passage westward along the south coast of England was a shakedown during which we learned how to make our aged, shabby vessel more comfortable and easier to handle and to trust her capacity to keep us safe at sea.

She bore the name Endymion when we bought her — after my least favourite poem by John Keats (“A thing of beauty is a joy forever…”) — but we re-named her Wrack. Depending on the source, ‘wrack’ describes seaweeds or seagrasses that wash up along a shore or the scattered traces of a shipwreck, either of which might be metaphors for my wife and me in old age. It is certainly how we feel when we’re not at sea. Life aboard Wrack is spartan — fresh water stored in a dozen polyethylene jerry cans, no hot or cold running water, no refrigeration and when the temperature drops, no heating either — so, from time to time, we concede the cost of berthing in marinas to gain access to on-site laundries, showers, flushing toilets, and wi-fi. Whether we’re berthed or anchored somewhere, we shop for food once a week — mainly vegetables, fruit, bread, pasta, and rice but little dairy and no meat — and eat one meal a day, cooked in the mid-afternoon on a two-burner gas stove.

The days we spend in close proximity to others’ lives ashore remind us how disenfranchised ours have become. We were homeless before we acquired Wrack, but now we are without a legal residence anywhere, even in our ‘home’ countries. We enter and exit borders uneasily as ‘visitors’, our stays limited to 90 or 180 days, depending on where we are. We have no access to banking, insurance, social services or, with a few exceptions, emergency health care. Even the modest Australian pensions we have a right to can only be received if we have been granted residence in countries with which Australia has reciprocal arrangements — and we haven’t. It’s hard even for other live-aboards to understand how deeply we are enmired in this peculiar bureaucratic statelessness. It’s harder for us to deal with it every day.

But life afloat provides consolations. We are ceaselessly attuned to the weather and our boat’s responses to subtle shifts in the sea state, tide and wind even when we are tethered to a dock. We appreciate the shelter — and surprising cosiness — the limited space below decks affords us but the impulse to surrender to the elements and let them propel us elsewhere is insistent. Our best days are offshore, even when the conditions are testing; the world shrinks to just the two of us, our boat and the implacable, mutable sea around us. Whatever problems we face ashore become, at least for the duration of a passage, abstract and insignificant. We sail without a specific destination — ‘towards’ rather than ‘to’, as traditional navigators would have it — and without purpose. Time drifts.

At least half of every day is spent maintaining, repairing, or re-organising the boat, an unavoidable and time-consuming part of our days, especially at sea. When we’re at anchor or berthed in a marina, we do what we can to sustain ourselves. Most afternoons are spent prospecting for drips of income from journalism and crowd-funding — a source inspired by those younger YouTube adventurers — or adding a few hundred words to a manuscript for a non-fiction book commissioned by a Dutch publisher, whose patience has been stretched to breaking point. Because of our visitor visa status, we can’t seek gainful employment ashore, and we have long since lost contact with any of the networks that once provided us with a higher-than-average income as freelancers. Our existence, by any definition, is impoverished and perilously marginal, we have little social life, yet we make the effort to appreciate our circumstances, even if it’s just to sit together in silence and absorb the elemental white noise of wind and sea, to do nothing, to not think.

Our precariousness burdens our four adult children, who have scattered to San Diego, Sydney, Berlin and Rome: “Where are you now?” our youngest asks. “How long will you be there?” We speak to each at least once a week. Not all of them long for fixedness but they do want desperately for us to have a ‘real home’, somewhere we can assemble occasionally as a family. We will be grandparents for the first time, soon. Like our few friends, our children worry that we might become lost — in every sense.

My wife and I are uncomfortably aware of our financial and physical vulnerability but at our ages, we can no longer cling to the faint hope that there’s an end to it. We have committed to an unlikely, reckless voyage. All we can do is maintain a rough dead reckoning of its course and embrace the uncharted and the relentless unexpected.

First published in The Idler, UK, 2023.

[aishangotome]

Main Story Chapter 17-03: The Third Bang (第三声巨响) | Light  and Night 光與夜之戀

Chapter 17-01

♡———♡

Knock, knock, knock - he knocked the door. After waiting for a while, seeing no response from inside, the man standing at the door knocked a few more times.

Zhou Yan: Miss?

-

You: ..........!

I woke up from my dream, the light above my head was on at some point, making it hard to open my eyes for a moment.

Outside the window was pitch black, the wind was blowing loudly, even the window glass was shaking. Time seemed to be suddenly fast-forwarded, in the morning the cicadas were still chirping non-stop, and in the evening there were already signs of bleakness.

But this has nothing to do with me, even if there is a typhoon or hail outside, I don't have to worry, I can't get out of this room now.

Zhou Yan: Miss Y/N, you ate too little for dinner tonight.

Zhou Yan: I prepared some food and put it at the door, you can eat some if you are hungry.

Disappointedly returning to bed, I was about to take medicine and go to sleep, but Zhou Yan's voice suddenly came.

Zhou Yan: I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave yet.

Zhou Yan: You have a good rest, I'll go first.

Unsurprisingly, he always said that when he was questioned these days. I knew he was still watching outside, so I reached out and turned off the light.

You: I'm going to sleep, you can take it away, I can't eat it.

The room suddenly darkened, and without the light squeezing, memories rushed out from the silent night.

This is the third day since I left the Lu family castle, and it is also the third day since I was "locked up" here by Evan.

But I can't remember what happened that day. It was probably too sad, and my brain automatically turned on the protection mechanism.

All I can remember is Evan's last sentence "I'm sorry", and the scene of me pretending to be nonchalant and turning away after confirming his safety.

Upon waking up, I was here.

A very ordinary rental house, very similar to the one I lived in. So much so that the moment I opened my eyes, I even wondered if that day really existed, and if Evan was still waiting for me downstairs.

But it was only for a moment. Soon I saw the layout here clearly, it was not my home.

The layout of two bedrooms and one living room, the door of the room directly opposite is tightly closed. The living room furnishings are simple but reveal a bit of warmth, meaning there should have been someone living there for a long time.

You: Where is this?

I didn't have to wonder for long. The familiar buildings and central garden outside the window quickly gave me the answer. This house was actually in the same complex where I rented my apartment.

Only I rented in the east district, and this was the west district.

The two districts had separate entrances and exits, and there was usually no interaction between them. From the window here, I couldn't even see my own building.

In other words, I was now in the home of a stranger, a "neighbor."

As my consciousness gradually returned, I began to feel scared. Turning around, I bumped into an expensive-looking antique grandfather clock. The pendulum swung violently, and the room echoed with a clanging sound.

I quickly picked it up, but before I could put it back, a wet, dripping eave suddenly appeared before my eyes.

The sound of a vendor calling out "red bean ice," the sound of people, and the sound of rain all overlapped, and memories came flooding back.

And the person under the eave was staring out at the heavy rain, their eyes empty, lost in thought.

You: ....Evan?!

My fingers twitched, and I subconsciously let go of the clock. The image disappeared.

This is Evan's house. In that moment, I had this clear thought. The person who took me from the castle must also be him.

You: Did he rent a place here after helping me look at apartments last time, thinking it was close to the company?

This guess was dismissed before it even fully formed. He's the CEO; he doesn't need to worry about commuting like I do. This isn't a high-end complex, either. There's no reason for him to live here.

So is there only one answer left? To watch me, to get close to me.

My heart suddenly became a tangled mess of emotions. A strong urge made me want to run to him immediately, look into his eyes, and ask him clearly and directly.

Why do you live in the same complex as me? Didn't we agree to be done with each other? Why did you bring me here?

Why did you leave and then come back to save me, making me mistakenly believe you cared about me countless times, only to push me away again and again after I responded?

Why are you always there when I'm in trouble, and why is your company so warm and touching?

Why did you tell me so much about your past, things you didn't even want to talk about, but always avoid every "future"?

Too many "whys" filled the space between us, creating an illusion of intimacy. Now, taking them out one by one, I realize we were always miles apart.

It was all an illusion.

Thinking back, he never actually promised anything. Instead, he always told me not to trust him. It was me who was wishful thinking from the beginning to the end. No one should be held responsible for another person's illusions.

And after I suggested we call it even, he said nothing. This must be the outcome he wanted.

Continuing to dwell on this would only make me look pathetic. Forget it.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let the events of the past year overlap in my mind.

Actually, it's good that it ended this way. I don't have to be so insecure and anxious anymore, I don't have to be deceived by him, and I can regain my self-esteem.

Or rather, it should have been this way all along. How much of our intimacy was built upon his deliberate and calculated approach? Without all that, we would have just been two strangers.

I haven't lost anything, I'm just back to where I started, I tell myself. Let it go, don't cling to it.

Yet the more I think this way, the more reluctant I feel, even a strong sense of heartache. I don't feel the relief and ease that should come with ending a relationship. Shouldn't I be feeling that way?

What's worse is that I still can't let go, I still want to ask him for an answer.

My thoughts were a tangled mess, impossible to cut through or sort out. I decided to leave this place first and go home to be alone. But Zhou Yan stopped me.

Zhou Yan: I'm sorry, you can't leave yet, and your phone will be temporarily withheld. As for when you can leave, I'm not sure.

He said this was Evan's order, and the company had already asked for leave for me. And he would be staying next door, and I could ask him for anything I needed.

You: So this is house arrest?!

I looked at him incredulously, trying to find a hint of a joke in his expression, but there was nothing.

You: Why? Did Evan say anything else?

You: I can't leave temporarily - is it because there's danger outside and I have to stay here? Or...

I thought of almost every reasonable explanation.

Zhou Yan's eyes suddenly showed a bit of sympathy, but he still didn't speak, just looked away. This unusual behavior gave me a bad feeling.

You: Or something happened to him?!

I suddenly grabbed Zhou Yan's sleeve.

You: What happened after that day? I want to see him!

I tried to control my emotions, telling myself that Evan would be fine, hadn't we confirmed it that day? But I couldn't calm down.

You: Say something!

Zhou Yan: I'm sorry, the boss didn't explain why you can't leave. But rest assured, the boss is really fine.

Zhou Yan: He left after sending you here that day.

You: Really?

I was still worried, staring at him for a long time until I was sure he wasn't comforting me or lying, then hesitantly let go of his hand.

You: So... he just wants to lock me up, right?

I don't know why I thought so, but I did.

And Zhou Yan didn't speak again, in the even longer silence, my heart sank little by little.

You: How could he do this.

Zhou Yan kept saying the same thing, sorry.

Actually, everything before didn't make me angry, it just made me more sad. But at this moment, I was really angry.

I tried many ways to get him to let me go, but neither threats nor pleas worked. I wasn't his match physically either, and even after I said I would go on a hunger strike, he remained expressionless, without any reaction.

I was so angry that I grabbed the pillow beside me and threw it at him. In the end, I could only watch him close the door and leave. And I stood there for a long time before I could get myself out of the anger.

How could I forget, it's always been like this, as long as it's something Evan wants to do, he'll do it at any cost. It was me who thought of myself as too important in his heart in the past.

To him, I must be just a tool.

So, does he keep me here because I'm still alive and have some use left?

Or is it because saving me disrupted his original plan, so he has to keep an eye on me and wait for the right time to send me over?

I can't control my malicious speculation. I have to think as darkly as possible.

Because as soon as I close my eyes, the image of him turning away as I begged for help will firmly occupy my mind.

Because I realize that even so, even though he deceived me and even considered disregarding my life, the first thing I thought of when I woke up was, how is he doing?

Including that day when he finally let me leave, I kept looking for excuses to return to him.

I feel like I'm going crazy, why do I still care about him? Wasn't he nice to me from the beginning to the end just because I was useful to him?

But every time I think of him standing in front of the broken stained glass window, asking me with a strange and sad look why I went back, my heart wavers.

He could have chosen not to save me.

Or, he could have sent me over earlier. Then maybe he would have succeeded.

Looking back now, there were too many unusual things that day, it was definitely not planned in advance.

Since I met him, he has always been calm and collected, he shouldn't be so impulsive.

So why, just one step away from the end, he's so smart that he wouldn't be unable to weigh the pros and cons.

Is it guilt? Only guilt? Are there any other reasons?

But this time I don't dare to think deeply, afraid that I'm deceiving myself again.

That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep until dawn. And it seems that heaven felt my situation wasn't bad enough, because the next day I woke up and found myself sick.

The cold came on fiercely, developing from a slight stuffy nose to difficulty breathing in one afternoon, even turning over was difficult.

My body surrendered first, and the escape plan I had just made had to be abandoned.

Probably afraid of being accused of not taking good care of me, Zhou Yan immediately found a doctor. After taking medicine and getting an IV drip, I still didn't get much better.

I knew in my heart that the biggest cause of this illness was my relationship with Evan, and I had to get over it myself.

The wind howled outside the window, seemingly getting stronger and stronger. Every time sleepiness came over me, it would be scared away by the sudden sound of the wind.

I don't like this kind of weather, it's as if the whole world is struggling, but I can only be awake and helpless.

You: Don't think about it anymore. Take some medicine and then go to bed.

I dragged my feverish body up, swallowed the pills, and suddenly saw my reflection in the uncurtained window.

The girl in the window stared blankly at me, dark circles under her eyes. The sparkle was gone, the smile on her lips had vanished, making me feel like a stranger.

I tried to grin, to make her happy, but it was futile.

I wasn't really that sad, just a little sympathetic. Sympathetic to the part of me that was trapped in an illusion and wouldn't let go.

The medicine eventually took effect and I fell asleep. And once again, I dreamed of Evan.

In the dream, we sat on the sand, the wind was light, and waves gently lapped at our feet.

We held hands tightly, as if we had endless things to say. We talked until sunset, the fiery red sun floating on the water.

I gave him a teru teru bozu doll, which he happily accepted. I couldn't help but ask him, "Shall we see all the oceans in the world together?"

He didn't say anything, just lovingly stroked my hair, the expression on his face making me think I was crying.

The scene faded to black. I opened my eyes and found tears streaming down my face.

I had thought that day would be a new beginning for us.

I blame the sunset for being too beautiful, so beautiful that it made one yearn for happiness after hardship.

I slept until evening. The sun had set, casting an orange glow on the window. I got out of bed and suddenly realized my body felt much better.

I stared at the clouds in the distance for a while, and suddenly, I remembered a phrase Evan told me a long time ago, "magic hour." He said dusk was the magic hour.

I was still naïve back then, but now, gazing at the boundary between day and night, an unprecedented melancholy welled up inside me. A feeling of emptiness and impending loss enveloped me.

I think I understand what Evan meant by magic.

Dusk has the power to soften all the sharp, raw emotions in the world, but that power isn't understanding, forgiveness, or letting go. It's not that kind.

It's a "forget it," something humanity has yet to understand.

Under the gaze of the divine, counting over and over again what else we have to lose, we become calm, eventually unmoved. In this way, we can endure with ourselves forever.

I suddenly understood why he said that if you like something, you don't necessarily have to possess it. Watching from afar might be the true form of possession.

Only those who have gained have the right to fear loss.

I've never understood him like I do now, and I've never longed to not understand him like I do now.

You: Think of it as an illness. You can only get better by letting go.

-

Under the cloak of a rare London fog, a shadowy figure emerged from the dense gray.

Clad in a sharp black windbreaker and leather gloves, he exuded the air of a hunter at home in the night.

An elderly man accompanied him.

The old man was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his graying hair peeking out from beneath his hat. Despite his advanced years, his eyes sparkled with vitality, and his every movement exuded an aura of authority.

Though he was the elder, he declined Evan's assistance, his cane tapping a steady rhythm against the ground.

Rumors of a highly gifted and strategic heir among the domestic bloodlines had reached his ears. However, he had long disagreed with the family's philosophy and therefore dismissed the stories.

As tales of the heir's exploits continued to circulate, his curiosity grew, but an opportunity to meet the young man remained elusive.

That is, until last winter's hunt in the south. He had fallen victim to an ambush, but thankfully, timely rescue arrived. While he recognized the heir's intentions as gestures of goodwill, he found them far from disagreeable.

His intuition told him that this young man was not the cold, heartless figure he had been portrayed as, and this hunch was further solidified during the subsequent private banquet.

As the strains of a haunting cello piece filled the air, he was transported back to his long-abandoned homeland.

Northern Patriarch: Lu, I will ensure that I am informed of Lu Ting's whereabouts, just as you have asked.

Northern Patriarch: The moment he sets foot in either the northern or southern territories, I will dispatch someone to notify you immediately.

Evan: I appreciate your assistance.

Northern Patriarch: There's no need to be so polite with me. You played a crucial role in capturing this southern treasure trove, making you an important ally of our northern region.

Evan smiled politely, taking the handkerchief handed by the servant behind him, and wiped the fog off his glasses.

Northern Patriarch: However, you mentioned earlier that the old patriarch's soul is now in Lu Ting's possession?

Evan: Yes. At that time, the patriarch's soul was severely damaged and showed signs of disintegration.

Evan: I initially thought that Uncle took the initiative to retrieve it and return to the castle to repair the soul.

Evan: But when I arrived underground, I didn't see anyone.

Evan: I also went to Uncle's residence, but the door was tightly shut.

Evan: Worried that something might have happened to the patriarch, I forced my way in, but still didn't find anyone.

Evan: Later, I heard that Uncle had left Guangqi long ago. I guess he might come here. After all, he has a close personal relationship with the western patriarch.

When he heard the word "soul," the old man's forehead was deeply wrinkled with crisscrossing lines. He pondered for a moment and nodded solemnly.

Northern Patriarch: Lu, I share your speculation, but it's not just for that reason.

Evan: I'd love to hear more details.

Northern Patriarch: Do you know that the British blood clan didn't actually go through the suppression?

Evan slowed his pace, as this did not fully align with what he had learned from the patriarch before.

The old man did not continue, he hesitated, hesitating whether to reveal everything, afraid that it would change the fate of the young man before him.

Evan: Rest assured, whatever you say, I will keep it as a secret.

The old man took a deep breath.

Northern Patriarch: Now, only our family knows about this in all of Britain.

Northern Patriarch: My grandfather told me this when he was still alive.

Northern Patriarch: Back then, vampires were still gods, and because they were close to the Creator God, they did not obey the order to destroy the humans she had created, angering the Creator God.

Northern Patriarch: She suppressed them into the seabed, but a small part escaped with the help of the Fire God, and they are our ancestors.

Northern Patriarch: As you should know, the vampires in Guangqi City were released from the seabed a hundred years ago only because they voluntarily accepted the divine punishment.

Northern Patriarch: Strangely enough, our ancestors did not suffer the divine punishment, but over time, they also showed the characteristics of vampires.

Northern Patriarch: This is still an unsolved mystery, maybe I won't get the answer until I'm in the grave.

Northern Patriarch: So, compared to you, the blood clans here have weaker talents and perception. They are close to humans.

Northern Patriarch: The blood clans in Guangqi have developed containers for survival, and the blood clans here have also had the same idea for their talents.

Northern Patriarch: Forty years ago, they developed a potion that could devour the souls of their own kind, and their talents would also be transferred as a result.

Evan listened calmly to the old man's story.

Northern Patriarch: Aren't you surprised?

The old man looked at the young man before him with appreciation.

Evan: There are only a few kinds of stories in the world, especially for power. It's not new.

Evan: So, you think Lu Ting came here this time to devour the patriarch's soul?

Northern Patriarch: My guess.

Evan: I see, thank you for the tip.

Evan: Can you tell me where the research institute for this potion is? Or do you know any researchers?

Northern Patriarch: The north did not participate in this matter, and we know very little.

Northern Patriarch: As for the researchers, I remember that the outstanding female scientist who solved this problem.

Northern Patriarch: My family should have some information, but it's very old. If you need it, come back with me.

Evan: Thank you, you've been a great help.

Evan opened the car door, and after the old man was seated, he was about to get in when he heard a flurry of urgent footsteps behind him. He turned his head and saw several servants running towards him.

Evan: What's the matter?

Servant: Patriarch, Master Evan. I just received a call from Mrs. West, she said she saw Lu Ting's tracks in the east.

Evan: East?

Evan lowered his eyes. In the few impressions he had, the eastern patriarch was eccentric and always at odds with other vampires. He had never heard of him having any personal relationship with Lu Ting.

Could it be that he was careless? Just like that day... Evan's fingers on the car door curled up.

He recalled the twilight that day, when he was out of control like never before. And she struggled to break free from his embrace, retreated far away, and looked up at him.

Those eyes full of tears were no longer filled with pity and innocence, but only pain that she tried her best to hide with calmness.

She slowly turned around, trembling with every step, yet so forcefully and resolutely.

Like a dying beast, finally realizing that loyal love can only lead to hurt. Despair forced her to cover her wounds and run into the depths of the jungle without looking back.

He suddenly felt a pang in his heart, and the sense of loss blurred his eyes as he chased after her. The girl had already fallen in front of Lu Ting.

Lu Ting seemed to think that he was the one who caused the patriarch's serious injury, and temporarily didn't notice the unusual power on the girl's body.

He breathed a sigh of relief, but also ignored Lu Ting's real purpose of deliberately losing to him. When he realized something was wrong, Lu Ting had already taken away the patriarch's soul.

Northern Patriarch: This old man in the east has never appeared before us since his daughter broke apart from him.

Northern Patriarch: Lu, do you need me to arrange for someone to investigate?

Evan: No, you just need to tell me, how long does it take to devour a soul?

Northern Patriarch: If it's quick, it can be done in a few days.

Evan lowered his head and thought. The female scientist, the eastern patriarch, the daughter who broke off... There seemed to be some potential connection.

Even though this connection was just his own inference and there was no evidence, he didn't want to miss any possibility.

Northern Patriarch: I know what you're thinking, it is possible.

Northern Patriarch: Once Lu Ting succeeds, his talent may be so powerful that it is beyond our imagination. You must be prepared.

Northern Patriarch: I'll send you off by helicopter.

Evan: Thank you, but that's not fast enough.

Evan: I have a favor I'd like to ask you for. Can you lend me a few people from your army in the east?

At first, the old man was a little puzzled, but soon he understood and nodded with a smile.

Northern Patriarch: Be careful, you're still injured. If you get hurt again, my daughter will be very sad.

Northern Patriarch: I'm waiting for you to come back and play chess.

Evan: Then I'll take my leave first.

-

He turned and disappeared into the fog once more, taking a leap. His entire body was like an agile griffon, silently leaping onto the towering spire of the church.

The speed was too fast, already beyond the limit that the naked eye could capture. Only the buttons on his collar reflected the moonlight, leaving a fleeting red dot in the night sky.

Evan leaped swiftly towards the east.

-

--In an abandoned laboratory in East London--

A middle-aged woman in a white uniform was intently operating the instrument in her hands. In the center of the instrument lay a man, lumps of flesh bubbling into a blood mist and being injected into his body.

As the blood mist was injected, waste slime began to ooze out of his pores, dripping and covering the floor. Until the last drop of slime fell, he suddenly opened his eyes, his pupils constricted instantly, and the glass surrounding him shattered.

The woman stood up satisfied, about to announce the success of the soul transfer, when suddenly, with a click, the metal object that was still in her hand pierced straight into her chest. In less than two seconds, her entire body shattered into a pile of blood clots, emitting a disgusting smell of iron.

And the culprit of all this had already sat up, his scarlet eyes half-closed, watching his masterpiece on the floor with amusement.

By the time Evan arrived, the blood clots on the floor had turned into nothing but eyes, wide open.

Lu Ting: You came after all, earlier than I expected. But it's a pity, you're still too late.

Capturing the fleeting shock on Evan's face, Lu Ting approached step by step with a smile.

Lu Ting: Don't think I don't know you got Wan Zhen while I was away, but I'm telling you, only the living can have the last laugh.

Lu Ting: Listen -- with that old man's talent, my heart beats so much stronger.

Lu Ting: I've been waiting for this day for so long, I have to thank you for helping me fulfill my wish.

Lu Ting: Don't worry, after I send you off, I'll kill that woman too, as a thank you gift from me.

Evan: The funeral hasn't even been arranged yet, yet Uncle can't wait to accompany the old man?

It was this hypocritical and arrogant appearance that he hated the most. Lu Ting couldn't help but raise his fingers, and under the moonlight, countless rare blood-colored bats turned into a gust of wind and rushed towards Evan.

However, Evan didn't dodge, letting those bats wrap around him, leaving terrifying blood marks on his skin.

He still walked forward steadily, approaching Lu Ting step by step. But with every step he took, his eyes darkened.

He was able to resist the Patriarch's weapon. Lu Ting had to admit that he had underestimated his nephew a little before.

So he calmed down and laughed in a low voice, but the laughter didn't seem to come from his throat.

In the creepy bass, the laboratory trembled rapidly, test tubes and instruments fell one after another, smashing the ground into a harsh crack.

Sharp glass shards like a slanting downpour!

Evan dodged sideways, but the bats clinging to his ankles kept tightening, pulling at his wounds that had not yet healed.

Evan: .....!

In an instant, the broken glass pierced into Evan's chest, and a large area of skin around him immediately became rotten. While blood was spurting out, his flesh and blood also shattered into pieces and fell straight down.

The glass exposed outside reflected his slightly frowned eyebrows.

Lu Ting grinned, and as the arc twisted, the glass went deeper.

Lu Ting: Are you going to die soon? What to do, I haven't even used half of my strength.

More rare blood-colored patterns began to appear on the back of Lu Ting's hand.

He just raised his hand, and more bats flocked in, scrambling to devour Evan's fallen flesh and blood.

The winding black is omnipresent, intertwined with Evan's shadow.

Blood dripped on the large black shadow, the shadow trembled excitedly, and absorbed nutrients frantically.

This is how the head of the family is, swallowed by Lu Ting bit by bit in despair and pain.

At this moment, the same fate befell Evan. The talents he could use were minuscule compared to Lu Ting's current state - this was the naked suppression of their bloodline.

Within seconds, the dark figure had closed in on his crimson eyes.

Lu Ting was about to step forward when suddenly, a bat plummeted straight down, landing with a "thud" on the floor, blocking his path.

Then, tens of thousands of bats swarmed into the laboratory, the night wind rustling.

Someone broke through the window. Lu Ting's abilities were still unstable. As soon as he was slightly distracted, the dark figure loosened its grip.

His body suddenly lost its support, and Evan stumbled half a step back, fine beads of sweat forming on his forehead. However, he was still able to steady his breath.

In the midst of the clash, a small team of men lit up a signal and quickly escorted Evan into the boundless moonlight.

-

In the vast wasteland, only Lu Ting's figure remained amidst the wreckage.

He watched in the direction where Evan had disappeared, a look of disdain on his face. Gradually, the disdain turned into hesitation, and then into disbelief.

He had no idea when his nephew, whose talent was as monstrous as a beast, had become acquainted with the Northern Patriarch, or what he had done to garner such strong support from him.

Even though he had already transferred the Patriarch's talent, he still felt a chill deep within him. He reached out and grasped at the air, and the entire room crumbled into dust in an instant, dissipating into the wind.

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Chapter 17-05

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[the-empress-7]

I live in a coastal town on the east coast. We have to have regular Home Owner's Insurance and Wind and Hail insurance. The Wind and Hall Insurance covers damage in the event of a named Tropical Storm or Hurricane. Property in this area that is at certain $ of risk for flooding due to a storm are required to have Flood Insurance. Wind and Hail only covers water damage from rain coming in through a damaged roof or window. Flood Insurance is to cover water from ground level. Our neighborhod is a not at risk for flooding unless a strong Cat 4 hurricane hits our area but we have Flood Insurance to protect our assets as it is relatively inexpensive. All of our policies cover personal property and we can elect a higher coverage amount if we our personal property is above average value.

I would imagine California mortgage companies require additional insurance if a property was at a certain % of risk for being heavily damaged by Earthquake, Fire or Mudslide.

Yes @gimletagain has written extensively on this topic, their house is borderline uninsurable given the numerous risks in that area and the premiums are sky high as a result.