#Fountain Machines Industry Report

[jmdbjk]

Wow.

I can't leave to enjoy a few days vacation without the world falling apart?

Hybe vs. Min HeeJin. Not on anyone's bingo card this year. I have not caught up on everything but who tipped off Hybe about her dastardly plans? The timing of it all... and her little extemporaneous skit she did for a press conference was perhaps part of her plan to turn public opinion in her favor? She claims to have invented kpop or at least made it what it is today but out the other side of her mouth says she hates idol culture?

Hybe's not here to play, they will not be nice. I see no benefit to her for showing us the not so pretty side of the idol industry. Maybe that's her problem, she can't see what she's doing because she's too far into it. Thirty years in the business will make you lose your objectivity. She has no idea she is coming across as a greedy, spoiled, entitled, manipulative, narcissistic, emotional female in a male dominated industry. Basically a nut case.

The lady had a tremendous opportunity to perhaps take ownership of her company in due time, become a great example for female leadership in a country where corporate culture is steeped in chaebolism. Instead she squandered that and thinks she will come out on top. Did she miss the Hybe vs. SM Entertainment episode from last year?

Anyway.

RM's new album! RPWP!

The Monochrome pop up store is doing well!

Jin will be back after 6 Fridays!

In other news. I went to Las Vegas. This is what I saw:

The Bellagio Fountains. They're huge. The Bellagio is SWANK. I looked for Jimin in Dior and Tiffany, Hobi in the Louis Vuitton store, Namjoon in the Bottega Veneta store, but none of them were in there. There was no Calvin Klein store.

When Hobi, JK and Tae were there watching the fountains dance to Dynamite, they were standing here:

Passed by Allegiant Stadium a few times. It's huge.

Drove out to Seven Magic Mountains. I am happy to report the lowest boulders had no writing or graffiti. They were amazingly huge as you can see.

Joon's pic of the above rocks:

Went to AREA 15 and it was HUGE and amazing! It's impossible to show everything that its about, there are multiple buildings and installations and activities, gift shops, bars, etc. We went into the Omega Mart (mega art) experience which led to a maze of fantastically created chambers, each different from the last one, all pulsing with animated lights, texture walls, ceilings and floors.

And ate at Hobak Korean BBQ. We couldn't find out which tables the members of BTS sat at but I got a pic of the Butter album they all signed. There were other autographs from other famous Korean celebs but the BTS signatures were displayed in a more prominent place on the wall.

We also scoped out The Sphere. Also HUGE. The concert space is arena sized. I don't know who was playing there that night but the parking lot was filling up.

We also walked the Strip.

The Fremont Street Experience. That's an animated video screen overhead with ziplines running through the length of it. It's two blocks of casinos, restaurants and gift shops. People are also doing busking and shows at street level.

Hoover Dam, view of the dam from the highway bridge and view of the highway bridge from the dam. Spent a few minutes on the Arizona side.

Hiked in the desert. Saw cactus and wildlife. Drank a lot of water.

Drove to the Mojave Desert Preserve in California just to say we did.

We hated leaving. It was a fun trip. But damn, I have so much stuff to catch up on now. Hiatus my ass.

If Vegas is on the BTS comeback tour I promise I will be there this time.

We gambled at the airport on our way out. The slot machines were next to our gate. And in the baggage claim area. But as you can see, its not just about gambling there.

In case you didn't get it, everything in Vegas is HUUUGGE and FARRRR. Walk a lot, spend a lot of money.

Overall, Las Vegas was clean, the people were extremely friendly and welcoming of course, they might be teaching hospitality as a school subject there, I don't know.

[infinitiresearch]

Commercial Beverage Dispensers Market - Forecast and Analysis, 2023-2027

Originally published on Technavio: Commercial Beverage Dispensers Market by Product, Material and Geography - Forecast and Analysis 2023-2027

The Commercial Beverage Dispensers Market is undergoing substantial growth and evolution, as evidenced by the forecast and analysis spanning from 2023 to 2027. This market segment encompasses a wide range of products designed for dispensing various types of beverages in commercial settings such as restaurants, bars, hotels, and convenience stores. With advancements in technology and changes in consumer preferences, the market is witnessing innovation in both product design and materials used for manufacturing.

Key products in the commercial beverage dispensers market include traditional soda fountains, beer taps, juice dispensers, coffee machines, and specialized dispensers for alcoholic beverages. Each product category caters to different consumer demands and preferences, with variations in features, capacity, and dispensing mechanisms. Manufacturers in this industry are continually introducing new product designs and features to meet the evolving needs of commercial establishments and enhance user experience.

Material choice also plays a significant role in the commercial beverage dispensers market, with products commonly made from stainless steel, plastic, glass, and other durable materials. The selection of materials depends on factors such as durability, aesthetics, ease of cleaning, and compatibility with various beverages. Additionally, there is a growing demand for eco-friendly and sustainable materials in response to increasing environmental awareness among consumers and businesses.

Geographically, the commercial beverage dispensers market exhibits variations in demand and adoption rates across different regions. Factors such as population density, urbanization, disposable income levels, and cultural preferences influence the consumption patterns of beverages in commercial establishments. Moreover, regulatory frameworks, food safety standards, and industry certifications also impact market dynamics in various geographic locations.

The forecast and analysis for the period from 2023 to 2027 involve a comprehensive examination of product trends, material innovations, market drivers, and competitive landscape within the commercial beverage dispensers market. This analysis aims to provide insights into emerging opportunities, challenges, and market dynamics that shape the growth trajectory of the industry.

To Learn deeper into this report , View Sample PDF

Overall, the commercial beverage dispensers market is poised for continued growth, driven by factors such as increasing consumer spending on dining out, expanding hospitality sector, and rising demand for convenience in beverage service. Manufacturers and stakeholders in this industry must stay abreast of market trends and technological advancements to capitalize on growth opportunities and maintain a competitive edge in the evolving landscape.

For more information please contact.

Technavio Research

Jesse Maida

Media & Marketing Executive

US: +1 844 364 1100

UK: +44 203 893 3200

Email: media@technavio.com

Website: www.technavio.com/

[candy-floss-crazy]

Snow Cone Hire - Amazing Shave Ice Bars

Snow Cone Hire For A Fabulous Treat   Super flavoured ice, the coolest dessert. Fabulous snow cone hire for your event. Cool crisp shaved ice with delicious flavoured syrups perfect for corporate events, birthday parties, Christmas parties and anywhere you need a refreshing treat. The natural evolution of the Slush Puppy our shave ice machine turns blocks of ice into cool refreshing drinks. Add a flavour or two and this is sure to be a big hit at any event. Be cool and ask us for details. What Is A Sno Cone? Take  refreshing traditional ice cubes, made from pure mineral water, run it through an industrial cone machine, and watch it turn  into delightful pure fluffy snow. Moulded into our cone shaped cups (biodegradable of course),  a  quick squirt from our range of flavours and you have a treat that everyone will love, served with a straw spoon. It makes a great alternative to a traditional ice cream cart. Its very similar to a slush machine, but the ice is thicker. Snow Cone Hire For Corporate Events. You can promote your company with our branded cones, along with either a branded cart, or even a contemporary cart with a programmable led screen allowing your sales message, logo etc to be presented to your guests. Team it up with another of our treats such as candy floss and you create a perfect sales promotion for your organisation. If you want something with a little more kick we can  add a shot of alcohol; Check out some of our other great treats; •Delicious Ice Creams •Pimms •Jagermeister •Mulled Wine •Gin •Absinthe Carts Our Bars Gone are the days when it was ok to serve from a table top. You need you event to look Instagram worthy. We offer a range of themed bars and carts to complement our catering services. Whether its a tiki style bar, or something ultra modern we can fit our desserts around your themes. You Can Choose From; •Tiki Bar •Victorian Hand Cart •Alpine Hut •Contemporary Bar •LED Bar with screen •Sweet Cart StyleSnowflakes aren't the only form of snow. Snow Isn't actually white, it is translucent. Snow has never been reported in Key West. It can be more than 100 degrees warmer inside an igloo than outside.WHERE CAN I HIRE A SNO CONE CART NEAR ME; We can provide a cart anywhere in the UK. CAN I HAVE ALCOHOLIC SNO CONES; You certainly can! WHAT IS A SNO CONE; It is finely shaved ice, flavoured with a range of syrups. Hire Shave Ice bars  across the U.K. and Europe. Including The North East, Lancashire, The Midlands, Yorkshire, hire in London and Scotland. They make a perfect reception treat for weddings, parties, corporate events, exhibitions, military balls, college events, birthday parties, product launches and company fun days. Check out our other options including chocolate fountains and more. 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 Read the full article

[enterprisewired]

McDonald’s Is Giving Out 50-Cent Double Cheeseburgers in Honor of National Cheeseburger Day

In celebration of National Cheeseburger Day, McDonald’s is treating its fans to an enticing offer. On September 18th, for one day only, customers can enjoy 50-cent double cheeseburgers without the need for an additional purchase.

 App-Exclusive Deal on National Cheeseburger Day

To savor this delectable deal, patrons must place their orders through the McDonald’s app. This exclusive promotion allows for a wallet-friendly indulgence in the beloved double cheeseburgers.

Earlier this week, McDonald’s sent ripples through the fast-food industry by announcing the removal of self-serve soda machines from all its U.S. locations. This change will be phased in gradually, with completion expected by the end of 2032. The decision aims to ensure a consistent experience for customers and crew members, encompassing all ordering methods, including McDelivery, app orders, kiosks, drive-thru, and in-store dining.

News of the soda machine removal prompted mixed reactions among fans of the Golden Arches. Many took to social media, with one user expressing concern about losing the ability to mix different sodas to their liking. Another user simply questioned, “Why?????”

The Refill Dilemma

Some social media users raised the issue of refills, wondering how this change would affect the refill process at McDonald’s. The discussion underscored the diverse ways in which customers engage with the self-serve soda stations. Summer’s Sweet Surprises:

Amidst these changes, McDonald’s had some delightful surprises for its patrons this summer. In July, the fast-food chain introduced a limited-edition flavor of its beloved McFlurry: the peanut butter crunch McFlurry. This delectable treat combines vanilla soft serve with a blend of crispy cereal mix and chocolate peanut butter cookie pieces, as described on the official McDonald’s menu spotter page.

Adding Flavor to Spring

Back in April, McDonald’s delighted customers with the release of the strawberry shortcake McFlurry. This delightful dessert featured the addition of strawberry-flavored clusters and shortbread cookies, elevating the classic soft-serve experience.

As McDonald’s continues to evolve its offerings and services, National Cheeseburger Day serves as a reminder of the brand’s commitment to satisfying the taste buds of its dedicated fans.

To celebrate National Cheeseburger Day, McDonald’s will be offering double cheeseburgers for only 50 cents.

This exclusive deal is available on September 18th and does not require any additional purchase. To take advantage of this offer, customers must place their orders using the McDonald’s app, according to People magazine.

Earlier this week, McDonald’s created quite a buzz by revealing its plans to gradually discontinue the use of self-service soda fountains, as reported by the Deseret News. Instead, customers will now have cashiers assist them with drink refills.

[poojaj]

Flavor Soda Fountain Machines Market Set To See Strong Growth by 2030

The flavor soda fountain machines market refers to the industry involved in the manufacturing and distribution of machines that dispense flavored soda and other beverages. These machines are commonly found in restaurants, fast-food chains, convenience stores, and other food service establishments.

For Sample Report Click Here:– https://www.marketinforeports.com/Market-Reports/Request-Sample/511471

The global flavor soda fountain machines market is driven by factors such as the increasing demand for customized beverage options, convenience, and cost-effectiveness. These machines allow customers to mix and match different flavors and create their own unique beverage combinations, which has become increasingly popular in recent years.

The market offers a variety of flavor soda fountain machines, including traditional post-mix dispensers, which combine syrup and carbonated water to create the final beverage. There are also newer machines that use pre-mixed concentrates or cartridges to create a wider range of beverage options.

The market is highly competitive, with several major players such as Coca-Cola, PepsiCo, and Dr Pepper Snapple Group dominating the industry. However, there are also several smaller, niche companies that offer specialized machines and beverage options.

The global flavor soda fountain machines market is expected to continue to grow in the coming years, driven by factors such as the increasing popularity of customized beverage options and the expanding food service industry. However, the market may face challenges such as increasing health concerns related to sugary beverages and competition from alternative beverage options.

[ecto-american]

The Bachelor

Phic Phight oneshot for @skellagirl: To help raise money for education, Vlad lets a date with himself be auctioned off. To his surprise, Harriet was quite a persistent bidder, and to his bigger surprise...he actually had a good time. Vlad/Harriet

On FFN and AO3

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"I don't need help getting a date, Jack," Vlad told him shortly. Why did he even come over to FentonWorks? He couldn't even remember why. At least he had some coffee to sip on. If Jack was actually good for anything, it was brewing good coffee.

"Oh come on, V-man! It's not like that! It's to raise money for education!" Jack tried to persuade as he was pouring himself his own cup. Vlad made a small face at the idea. "There's going to be lots of bachelors up there with ya, it won't be just you!"

"I don't think so." He had much better things to do than be paraded around.

"Please Vlad?" Jack nearly begged.

"You know, Vlad, you'd be quite the crowd-drawer," Maddie finally spoke up. Vlad glanced over at her. She was focused on some ectoplasmic samples that were on the counter, dangerously close to some chicken that was marinating for dinner. Mental note; do NOT stay for dinner tonight. "You're likely Amity Park's most sought after bachelor." She looked over her shoulder at him, and with a clearly fake smile, she added, "It'd be really good for you to have a nice woman who's interested in you."

Vlad frowned at her emphasis. He took another drink. It would look good if he showed up for appearances, got it over with and wowed some whatever woman into helping his media image. Election season was coming up, and he was up against the ex-mayor. Doing something for the children would definitely boost him.

"...It is for charity," he said slowly. "And after all, a man like me could fetch for a nice price."

"Of course!" Jack boomed excitedly. "You were voted sexiest billionaire by Cosmopolitan this year!" Oh god, why the hell did Jack know that? And say that? "Trust me, the crowd'll got mad for you!"

Vlad forced a smile.

"I cannot wait."

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He really could have waited. Friday night had come, and he found himself very reluctantly walking around the Casper High gym, looking at all the silent auction items up on display on cheap collapsable tables. Vlad mentally thanked himself for making sure Daniel would be too busy all night with Skulker to even have the time to come around to laugh at him.

Ugh, nothing really that good was around up for auction in here. Except for him, obviously. He could tell who was a bachelor for auction just by seeing who else was way overdressed to be standing around in a public high school on a Friday night, and Vlad already knew that he was the best option. He spied another one of these men as the individual picked his nose and wiped it on one of the tables. Vlad made a grossed out face. Easily, the best option.

He glanced around more, boredly trying to waste another twenty minutes before he had to go to the auditorium for the bachelor auctioning. This was the worst. Why did he agree to this? His eyes scanned for any familiar face.

"Harriet!" Vlad instantly recognized the journalist. She turned to face him, giving a small smile and wave when she realized who it was. He took a few steps over towards her. "What are you doing here?"

"My niece goes to Casper High," she replied. "So I decided to come around." She nodded her head at the silent auction she was seemingly considering. It was a high end camera bundle, including not just a high end camera but extra lenses, batteries, the case, the whole works honestly, donated by a local electronics store. "Check it out. Maybe even buy a date so that my mother stops asking me about when I'm getting married," she lightly joked. Vlad chuckled.

"You should consider just buying me," Vlad half-joked back. "I'm by far your best option." Harriet gave a hum as she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" she inquired. Vlad motioned to himself as if it was obvious, flashing a smile.

"Of course. Self made billionaire, tech industry pioneer, scientist, mayor of this fine city, and that's just the beginning," he bragged. She lightly shook her head with a smirk.

"Part time Dairy King worker that somehow caught the ice cream machine on fire, Skunk Punks lead singer whose voice cracked every time he sung anything and guitarist who couldn't play guitar," she listed off. Vlad rolled his eyes with a frown. "Idiot who kept sticking his head into the lab equipment machines and lost his eyebrows for six months. Skater wanna-be that broke both of his ankles trying to do tricks on the campus fountain." Vlad scowled.

"You can stop now," he complained. Harriet laughed.

"Oh, I almost need to buy you purely so that I can remind you that you're not all that and a bag of chips," she replied. "And I can finally corner you into an actual interview. You keep pushing me off." She faked a pout. "It's almost like you don't wanna be around me."

"Don't you have to be nosy somewhere else?" he asked.

"Hmm, not tonight." She glanced up at the clock on the wall. "I should go find a seat for the auction. You should probably get up on stage, make yourself look all nice and presentable."

Vlad rolled his eyes, waving her off.

"I need to use the restroom first," he replied. "You head on out."

"See up on the stage. Too bad this isn't Chippendales," she joked. Vlad felt his cheeks flush, and he glared at her. She walked off. Vlad glanced down at the camera bundle she had been eying. He glanced at the auction sheet, and he could tell by the handwriting that she had put in a bid that he knew somebody would eventually counter-offer. Vlad wrote his auctioning number down, and a bid he knew nobody would go over before he made his way to the auditorium.

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Finally, it was his turn. They put him last, which he completely understood. Always save the best for last. He nearly had dozed off in boredom in his seat while everybody else was auctioned off for barely a hundred dollars.

"We'll start the bidding, as always, at fifty dollars," the overly enthusiastic host said. Vlad mentally scoffed. He was definitely worth more than that. Ugh, this was the last time he did anything to help children. Fuck those little brats. "Fifty-five!"

A bunch of the auction fans shot up in the air. Vlad smiled in satisfaction.

"Oh wow! Okay, well how about sixty-five?" None of the hands went down. "Seventy-five." Two hands went down. "Eighty-five?" Three more hands reluctantly went down. "A hundred?" Most of the hands kept on standing. "Well!" the host chuckled, before directing his attention to Vlad. "You sure are a popular fella!"

No shit. He was a billionaire.

"Let's jump up a bit! One hundred fifty!" Finally, a good amount of the hands went down, leaving only a handful up. "One hundred seventy-five!" No hands down. "Two hundred!" A few reluctantly went down, leaving only four. "Okay, okay! How about-"

"Three hundred!" one of the women called out. The auctioneer looked surprised.

"Oh! Oh um. Okay! Does anybody wanna go higher than three hundred?" he asked.

"Three twenty-five!" Harriet's voice was instantly recognized by Vlad, and he stared in surprise.

"Three-fifty!" the first woman rebutted. Vlad studied her, only to quickly notice that this was a woman he really hadn't ever met before.

"Three seventy five!" Harriet wasted no time putting in her counter offer.

"Four hundred!"

"Four twenty five!"

"Four fifty!"

Vlad watched Harriet as the reporter's jaw clenched. She was staring at the competition with a hard stare.

"Five hundred!" she finally spoke. The other woman studied her, before giving a defeated sigh.

"No counter offer," the unfamiliar lady finally spoke. The auctioneer grinned, pointing to Harriet.

"Well! Looks like our highest prize of the night goes to bidder number seventy-four!"

Harriet met Vlad's eye, and she smiled. He smiled back.

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

"So," Vlad asked, giving a coy smile. "You sure were an insistent bidder." Harriet flushed.

"I did it for the schools," she argued. "My niece goes to Casper High, remember?"

"Oh, I mean, if you did it just to help the schools," Vlad lightly teased. "Then we don't have to go out on the date." Harriet scoffed.

"No way, dude. I spent five-hundred dollars on you, and I'm going to get my money's worth." She poked him in the chest. "Which also means that you're buying me dinner, and some nice wine." Vlad rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright," he reluctantly agreed. "What time shall I pick you up?" Harriet smiled.

"Uh, depends. When are you free? Tomorrow around seven? Ah, who am I kidding." She smirked at him. "You're probably free whenever. What else do you got going on? Be honest."

Vlad flushed red, scowling.

"Okay, I do happen to be free tomorrow night, but normally I'm not!" he insisted. Harriet snorted. "So you need to make sure you check with me before you schedule something."

"You got nothing," she teased in a sing-song voice.

"Oh? And what do you do?" Vlad challenged. She hummed.

"Well, typically on Mondays I visit my grandmother, Wednesday is girls' night with my friends, Thursdays I have my yoga class, and on the weekends I normally get friends with friends or co-workers, go hike, short trip. Whatever I feel like," she replied without missing a beat. Vlad hated Jack for convincing him to do this stupid auction. "And of course, several days a week I go to the gym."

"I go to the gym too," Vlad insisted. Harriet raised an eyebrow at him. "I do! I'm in excellent shape."

"Are you going to the gym, or do you use a home gym in your mansion?" she pressed. Vlad didn't reply. "Thought so. Guess we're on tomorrow at seven?"

"...Tomorrow at seven."

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Vlad had opted to simply drive himself in one of his flashy, yet more modest cars. It was honestly kind of hard to go to many places in a limo anyway, and not very intimate when there was an unintentional third party hanging out in the car. Harriet had texted him her address earlier, and he showed up right on time, pulling his car up to the curb of her house. A gentleman was never late, after all.

He parked, not bothering to lock his doors as he stepped up to her house. It was a typical small home in a decent little neighborhood. Not one that Vlad could ever imagine himself living in however, but it was cute. He stood at her front door. He exhaled harshly, mentally preparing himself.

He'd be lying to himself if he said that he wasn't nervous. It was one thing to date a new woman he had just met, but this was Harriet. She knew him when he was still a broke college student that worked part time at Dairy King and was in that terrible punk band with Jack.

Vlad rang her doorbell. He absentmindedly wondered if he'd have to wait on her for long, but thankfully, Harriet answered the door fairly quickly.

"Hey! Look at you!" she greeted cheerfully. Vlad knew he flushed a bit at the compliment, which made him...feel weird. That never happened before. "You really cleaned up for me." Okay now he had to roll his eyes a little. Vlad was in a nicer suit compared to normal, with a darker shirt collar and cufflinks, more polished shoes and the like.

"Ah, I'm nothing compared to how lovely you look this evening," he returned the compliment, and he could see Harriet's cheeks brighten a bit under her porch's poor lighting. They had texted each other about their plans, and so she had dressed appropriately for the five star restaurant; a black dress with dark green detailing that came to her knees, matching shoes and her hair done up. She had a formal black jacket over her arm, as well as a clutch handbag. "Are you ready?"

"Uh, one second!" Harriet turned to her door, checking to ensure it was locked. Once she did so, she turned, slipping her arm into his. "Now I am."

"Well, off we go," he smiled. "I think you'll like where we're going. It has the most divine sushi in Amity Park."

"I can't wait," Harriet replied. "I love sushi. Remember that campus sushi bar?"

"Absolutely," he replied. He walked her down the porch to his car. "Maddie worked there. She used to sneak us huge takeout boxes of leftovers."

"Oh I nearly forgot about that," Harriet laughed. "I'd help her smuggle out the boxes in my backpack."

"And you got soy sauce all over your bag four times," he chuckled. Harriet grumbled.

"Yeah, I had to re-print my final paper," she complained. "And eventually get a new bag that didn't smell like sushi all the time."

Vlad opened the car door for her. She slipped her arm out, giving him a thanks as she slipped inside.

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

Naturally, he had made a reservation for the best seat in the house; a table in a more private area of the place, indoors but near a large window that had a good view of the beautiful landscaping in their limited yard-area.

After giving his car to the valet and getting seated, Vlad glanced at the menu, immediately spying his favorite, rock shrimp tempura. However he looked around to see what else was available. Hmm, he was somewhat in the mood for BBQ Unagi…

"What do you normally get?" Harriet questioned as she looked over her options.

"...Know what? Since this is your first time, maybe we should just get morimoto omakase," Vlad suggested. He gently pushed her menu down so that he could look at it, and he pointed to the option. Harriet scanned the description. Essentially a dish with a little bit of everything.

"Ooo, that sounds good," Harriet mused.

"It's delicious, and it pairs well with white wine," Vlad told her. She smiled.

"Let's get that then," she agreed.

When the waiter came by, they ordered just that. Quickly, the waiter had come back to bring them the bottle of white wine, pouring them their first glass for them before leaving the bottle at Vlad's request. They each took a sip.

"Mmm, this is pretty good," Harriet spoke first. "I typically just get a red wine."

"I do too," Vlad replied. "But white wine goes well with fish." Harriet gave a surprised hum before taking another drink. "You probably know too much about me though. Tell me about your work. Amity News." She nodded.

"Yeah, I'm one of the main news anchors," she replied.

"Oh trust me, I know. I get to watch you tell me the news every day, it's a highlight of the day," Vlad complimented. Harriet rolled her eyes with a flush.

"Alright, cheesehead," she teased. "But yeah, I really love it. When I was younger I really enjoyed investigative journalism, since it let me go all over, but I'm really liking being in one place. Though I occasionally go out on the scene, but it's kinda dangerous to cover ghost fights here. And what we have Lance for."

Vlad snorted. He knew the news man too well. He was, as the kids called it, a meme at this point. He knew Daniel and his friends constantly posted these memes of Lance Thunder on social media, making fun of his on the scene appearances.

"What do you make of all these ghosts?" Vlad questioned. Harriet shrugged.

"Well, they certainly exist. Honestly thought Jack was stupid to try and build that one ghost portal in college. Even though. Ugh, Jack is such a buffoon sometimes," Harriet grumbled. "I still haven't forgiven him for costing me my job in Milwaukee, especially since I used him as a reliable source. Ugh!" She stopped herself to finish off her glass of wine. She exhaled deeply as she put the glass down, half-smiling apologetically. "Sorry. I know he's your friend."

"No, no no," Vlad replied eagerly. "I understand. After all, it was my home he destroyed, remember?" Harriet nodded.

"He had to have done thousands in damage," she said sympathetically. "Especially to your library. Oh, and it was a beautiful library too."

"It was one of my favorite rooms in that house," Vlad sighed. "I rebuilt the room, but it just wasn't ever quite the same. My new library, however, it's simply gorgeous."

"Oh?" Harriet questioned. Vlad took it as a sign to continue.

"It's a two story library, for once, like a true two story library. The lighting is fantastic, but also on a dimmer so the mood can be truly set," he began to describe. "I managed to slowly rebuild my collection of the classics, and there's a wood burning fireplace. Oh and of course, my favorite, the small reading nook with the most comfortable chair you will ever sit in next to a huge window. It's simply perfect."

"Oh, I would probably sit in that nook and read forever," Harriet sighed dreamily. Vlad smiled, picking up the bottle of wine with a raised eyebrow. Harriet picked her glass up, holding it for him to pour her some more. He did so, before refilling his own glass. She took another long sip of her drink.

"I would more often, but unfortunately, it's also the cat's favorite spot, and I can never bring myself to move her," he confessed. Harriet beamed.

"Vlad! You never told me you had a cat!" she exclaimed. "What's his name?" Vlad felt a cold sweat hit him. Wait.

"Maggie," he lied. "When I adopted her, that was what they called her, and it didn't feel right to change it." Harriet nodded understandingly. She set her glass of wine down to dig through her clutch, and she pulled her phone out.

"I have the most handsome little guy, his name's Taggy. Short for Maytag," she said. She showed Vlad her phone, exposing a picture of a grey and white cat stretched out in a cat hammock near a window. But that name...

"...Maytag? As in the company?"

Harriet flushed a bit.

"When I moved into my first apartment, his previous owners had left him, and so my old roommate and I began calling him Maytag after the refrigerator, since he came with the apartment, and we put food in him," she explained. "Then my roommate got married, and her husband's cats didn't get along with Taggy, so I just kept him, and he's moved six times with me since then." Vlad cracked a smile.

"Mad-ggie's name has kind of devolved into me just calling her Princess," he admitted. "I've bought so many luxury cat things for her and beds, the drinking fountain water bowl, wet food, the best vet in all of Illinois. Only the finest."

"I do the same for Taggy, much as I can afford. He's my special guy."

The waiter shyly interrupted them, bringing them each a huge plate of food. Harriet eyed hers hungrily, thanking him cheerfully.

"Oh, this does delicious," Harriet beamed. She took her chopsticks, and grabbed a bite. Vlad took another sip of wine before he did the same. "It tastes great too!"

"You think I'd steer you wrong?" Vlad lightly bragged.

"Who knows," Harriet shrugged. She gave a sly smirk. "You're the one who steered us all so wrong that you got the van stuck in a snowbank." Vlad glared at her, making her burst into snickers.

They ate in silence for a few moments, savoring their meal. Harriet took another long drink of her wine, and Vlad refilled it for her. She gave a smile.

"Thank you," she said. "Do you like your food?"

"Very much so, it's delicious," he replied. "How's yours?"

"Great, I never had such delicious food!" She ate another chopstick full of food. "I guess this is how five star dining is, huh? I made a good date investment. But next time I gotta take you to a diner."

"Oh?" Vlad raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I get the feeling that you eat too fancy," she explained. "Sometimes you just need the greasiest burger and saltiest fries that you wash down with cheap soda."

"Hmm, wouldn't you prefer I take you to a five star steakhouse?" he questioned.

"You can take me there on our third date," Harriet replied. Vlad raised his eyebrow again. "But for date too, I think you need a greasy burger."

"Third date?" he echoed. He took a drink of his wine, finishing it off.

"Yeah, I think you'll wanna take me out again," Harriet hummed. She reached for the wine to refill his glass for him.

"Thank you, dear. But really?"

"Absolutely, I'm a catch," she replied. "I've travelled the world, I'm very educated, financially stable, have my own house, am very pretty." She jokingly flipped her hair.

"Ah, I'd say you're more of a beauty than just very pretty," Vlad mused. Harriet smiled.

"Aww, thank you cheesehead," she replied. "But yes. So naturally, I think you're not going to be able to resist asking me to accompany you out again. I did you a favor by bidding on you, actually."

"We'll see how the night ends, and who's wanting a second date more," Vlad said. "I mean, yes you are quite a catch, but I think you're forgetting who was voted as sexiest billionaire by Cosmopolitan magazine." Harriet nearly choked on her wine from laughter.

"Oh my god, you read Cosmo?" she giggled. Vlad flushed red.

"N-no, I was told this," he insisted. "When I got voted as such." Harriet had to put her chopsticks down, covering her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter. Vlad slammed back the rest of his wine, refilling his own cup.

"Oh man, you really haven't changed all that much." She took a deep breath to get her laughter under control. "Same ol' cute Vlad." This peaked his interest.

"You thought I was cute?" he asked. Harriet flushed, picking her chopsticks back up to continue eating.

"Eh, kinda. In that nerdy sorta way," she confessed. "I tried getting your attention a few times, but you never seemed too interested. You were always really distracted by that portal project."

More like distracted by Maddie, as she was a huge reason why he was so interested in helping with the proto portal project. Remembering the woman of his dreams made him pause. He suddenly felt guilty that he was out on a date. And Maddie's college best friend of all people!

Of course, he had dated here and there. Maddie was, unfortunately, married, so he knew that rationally he had to somewhat try and move on. But nobody had ever truly clicked with him, or made him feel like she had. His mind was often distracted by her the entire time but...until now he had actually forgotten about Maddie.

"Ah yeah, I was...really focused on school," he half-lied, taking another bite of food.

"I could tell. Nerd," she jibbed. "Even now I can tell you're super busy with all your business stuff."

"Not as busy as you'd think, but also yes," Vlad corrected. "I have a lot of meetings to attend and business decisions to make, but I at least get a lot of help and feedback."

"That's true," Harriet said. "But I'm glad we're able to do something now. Even if we just never got around to it back then." She poked at one of her foods with her chopstick before taking the bite. "I mean, I've been kind of all over too. I don't think anything would have even worked out had we even tried something."

"Ah, yes. I remember Maddie mentioning that you were never in one place for more than two months for a long time," Vlad said.

"Yup!" she confirmed. "That's investigative journalism for ya. Takes you all over. But I really liked it. I'm glad I had that opportunity, and that I did it. Don't regret a bit of it."

"Business too," he agreed. "Especially when you're starting an empire. I don't think I was truly home for months at a time, I was going from place to place to oversee offices being built and products being made. Seeing how progress is being made on research. It was a busy first fifteen years or so. I don't think I was truly relaxing and enjoying what I'd made until the past six years or so."

"Yeah, I remember reading about your progress," she said. "Fascinating story. You had such amazing charisma to get all these companies to go with your plans." Vlad felt a bit of a nervous wave hit him, but he didn't show it, or really even have to reply. Harriet had already moved on. "Ugh, this was so good. I can't believe I was able to eat all of this."

Her plate was empty, and he had just taken his last bite.

"Would you like dessert?" he asked. She shook her head no.

"Nah, I'm good. I've eaten enough," she replied. Vlad just nodded, and he called their water over.

Instead of waiting to get a receipt book from the waiter, he simply handed him his credit card. Vlad never checked the bill when he went out to eat. The price tag never bothered him.

The waiter accepted it, soon coming back for Vlad to sign. Vlad quickly did, and for his trouble, he also handed the young man five hundred dollar bills as a tip. It made him nearly tear up and stutter as he thanked him, but quite honestly, it was more to show off to Harriet his generosity more than any genuine kindness, which, judging by her expression, absolutely worked.

Vlad gave him a half smile and waved him off, and the pair collected their things to leave, heading towards the front of the restaurant arm in arm.

"You know, the night's still young," Vlad mused. He opened the door for her, and Harriet slipped through.

"Thank you," she replied. "But oh? You don't have work?"

"Nothing that can't be rearranged," he replied. "Do you?" Harriet smiled.

"Nope, I have tomorrow off. So what are you thinking?" she asked. Vlad glanced at his watch. Hell, it was only ten-thirty.

"Have you ever been to the Amity Park Country Club?" he questioned. She nodded.

"Oh yeah. I've been there as a guest twice, for interviews," she explained. She glanced at her phone. "Doesn't it close soon though?" Vlad chuckled.

"On midnights on the weekends," he replied.

"Hmm, okay," Harriet agreed. "But we won't stay too long."

Vlad went up to the valet, informing him of his car make and model, and the young man nodded, jogging off to fetch it.

"My dear, I'm a high priority member. They'll stay open for me," he insisted. Harriet rolled her eyes.

"The workers wanna go home too, Vlad," she reminded him. "We should be respectful of their time and leave when it closes."

Vlad resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was above having to follow those kinds of petty rules. When you had billions in the bank, you could easily just toss a few thousand out to make workers let you stay past the closing time with no issues. He had never heard a single complaint after he flashed a few thousand, a drop in the bucket for him. But what Harriet wanted, she would get. He supposed, anyway. After a few dates, she'd likely just begin agreeing with him and allow him to bend the rules for her.

After a few dates? Vlad thought on it. Yeah...after a few dates.

"Whatever you wish," he replied.

His car pulled up, and Vlad immediately opened the car door for her.

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

"And it just kind turned into a semi-permanent offer until I got kinda homesick," Harriet finished her story off as she hit another ball with the golf club. Vlad hummed lightly as her ball went off towards somewhere in the dark. "But it was amazing. I'd love to return to China sometime. Kinda unfortunately, Amity Park doesn't really cover international news like that. It's very local only."

"Maybe you should just come with me next time I go," Vlad offered. He grabbed another golf ball from their large bucket of them, setting it on the tee before lining himself up. With an experienced swing, he hit the ball, and it flew off. "To China, I mean. I go there about twice a year or so for business. Sometimes more."

"Ugh, that'd be awesome," Harriet agreed. She leaned over to pick up her drink, a pink margarita, that was resting on the tables that were set up near the driving range. Her jacket and clutch were on the table too, her heels tucked under the table. Vlad had also folded his suit jacket neatly to rest next to hers, allowing himself to also unbutton and roll his sleeves up to his elbows, and the top two buttons of his shirt. He also had his own drink, a rum and coke, that sat near hers. "I can show you all the local spots from my time there."

"Hm, that would be very nice," Vlad mused. He hit another ball. He was somewhat glad that Harriet had talked him out of doing the full course. While he didn't care (and Harriet very much did) that it would have taken far past closing time to finish a game, it was much more relaxing to just do this. Especially with nobody else being around. "I typically do only business."

"Oh boo, that's boring," Harriet said. She already had another ball on her tee, and she wacked it again. The ball went soaring. "What's the point of all your money if you're not enjoying yourself and your life?"

Vlad didn't reply. He focused on another swing. The ball stayed close to the ground, quickly rolling on and on and on before he couldn't see where it went anymore.

"You were married before, weren't you?" Vlad questioned. Harriet snorted.

"Oh, we're already at the 'let's talk about our exes' part of the relationship?" she teased. Vlad chuckled, grabbing another ball. "Eh, for about seven years. Nothing bad happened, we just realized that we weren't really as compatible as we thought. I enjoyed traveling the world and being out, and he was a big homebody that hated planes and trains. Started to realize that I wanted a family one day, he preferred it to be just us. We didn't see each other that much cause I would go cover stories all over, and it just felt like we'd be happier. So we just kind of had a mutual divorce."

"I can understand that," Vlad replied. He lightly tapped his ball twice before swinging the club as hard as he could. The ball straight up disappeared in a blink of an eye.

"So what's your excuse for never having a girlfriend before?" Harriet questioned. Vlad was grateful about the lighting, as he knew that his face was dark red. "Too busy with work, too nerdy, what?"

"I've had a girlfriend before!" he argued. "I've dated women plenty before. Don't you remember Stacy?"

"Nope," Harriet replied. She hit another ball.

"Yes you do!" he insisted. He took a break from swinging, leaning on his club. "I was with her for four years! Out of all the women I dated she was the one the papers and articles talked about the most. Don't you remember all the rumors swirling around about why we hadn't gotten married already?"

"Hmm, must have been a figment of your imagination," Harriet replied, and he exhaled dramatically. He finally noticed the shit-eatting grin, and that she was just pulling his leg. She giggled, grabbing another golf ball. She tossed it up into the air, catching it before putting it on the tee. "Okay, okay. So why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?" Vlad questioned. He took a step towards their table, grabbing his drink. He needed it right about now.

"Marry Stacy," Harriet clarified.

"Eh, it just wasn't really meant to be," he dismissed simply. He took a long gulp of his drink, sighing softly when he finished.

"Oh?" Harriet pressed. He frowned. He should have known that she was going to be nosy about it. Typical journalist.

"...I could tell that we didn't really like each other all that much," he confessed. "We were just both lonely. We would go places together but never actually be together. We lived together but never saw each other outside of bedtime, though towards the end, she began to just sleep in a separate room since our schedules would be so different. We talked about getting married on and off, but...I don't know when it clicked for me that this just wasn't what I truly wanted. I wanted a wife and children that I spent time with and that I loved being with. So we just kind of broke up, and she moved out."

Harriet nodded understandingly.

"At least you realized it before children potentially got involved," she said. "I'm glad I divorced with no children. I'd hate to put them through something like that."

"Agreed," Vlad replied. He picked up another golf ball. Instead of bending over to put it on the ground, he lazily dropped it and hit the ball on the bounce. "How many would you want?"

"Hm? What? Kids?" Harriet questioned. Vlad gave a 'mhm' noise to confirm. "At least two. A boy and a girl. What about you?"

"As many as possible," he said. He got another ball. "I always wanted a big family."

"Hmm, well I'm not a clown car," Harriet replied. "Regardless of how often I'd let a clown like you in." Vlad rolled his eyes. "Besides, you have Jasmine and Danny right? Maddie and Jack's kids?"

"Yeah, they're my godchildren," Vlad confirmed. He reached over for another quick sip of his drink. "I bought Jasmine her car. When Daniel gets his license I'll be getting him one too. And of course, paying for college. I have a few other godchildren too, same deal. I've gotten them all a car and paid for college. Can't let them have any of that dreadful student loan debt."

"Aw, you're just a big ol' softie," Harriet teased. "I'm not a billionaire, so I can't really do the same, but I'm pitching in to help my sister get my niece a decent used car next year. By the time her little brother's getting a car, I'll likely be doing the same."

"You're looking for cars for her?" Vlad mused. "I can get her one." Harriet shook her head.

"No, that's not necessary," she replied. "It's a lot to ask."

"Nonsense, I have the money to spare," he persisted. "A decent used car. Children don't need brand new ones, they're still learning." Harriet bit her lower lip as she pondered the offer.

"We'll discuss it another time with my sister," she said. Vlad nodded in agreement. He grabbed a ball. Their bucket was nearly empty now.

"I understand," he replied. Harriet picked up one of the last balls. She tossed it up in the air and swung her bat. She missed, but she quickly was able to redeem herself by hitting it on the third bounce. "I just hate to see children go without. That's why I was auctioned off, afterall. For the sake of the kids." Harriet gave a skeptical hum, getting another ball. "...Well, you know, if we're going to go out again, I need to make a good first impression on your family."

"That's better," Harriet replied. "If we're going to hang out more like this, we need to be open and honest with each other."

Vlad picked up the last ball. He stared at it for a moment, and he put it on Harriet's tee for her. She shot him a thankful smile, and she wacked the ball into the night.

"There'll be more, right?" Vlad asked.

"Well, if you're free next Friday, we can go see a show," Harriet suggested. She went back to the table, slipping into her heels again. She downed the last bit of her drink. "Local theater's opening weekend is soon."

Next weekend was terrible. Vlad had so much to do that following week that he'd have to spend all weekend preparing for. Many meetings, lots of documents to read and write and revise. Moving anything around would be an absolute headache.

But it could be moved around.

"Sounds lovely," he agreed. He finished off his drink before rolling his sleeves down again. He slipped his jacket back on. "Ready to head home?"

"We have to take the cups and clubs back up to the office," she said, nodding at the country club. Vlad made a face, and he began to protest, but a Look from Harriet made him shut up.

"Alright, alright," he sighed. Harriet grabbed their cups, and he took their clubs.

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

"Next Friday, right?" Harriet asked as they took the final step up onto her porch.

"Yes, I'll call you tomorrow to organize a proper time," Vlad told her. He paused as he suddenly remembered. "One second."

He did a half-jog back to his car, opening the backseat and pulling out a basket. As he returned to the door, it became clear as to what it was. It was the camera bundle she had been bid on at the auction, and she stared at it.

"Here, I had noticed you bid on it. I wanted to make sure you got it," he explained, handing it out to her.

"You bought that?" she questioned.

"Yes, I knew that you'd be outbid. So I just made sure that you could get it," he replied. Harriet smiled warmly, accepting it.

"Thank you," she said. She set it on one of the porch chairs for now. "This was honestly such a great night. Gotta admit, I was kinda skeptical, but you really impressed me."

"Of course, didn't you say yourself that you made a good investment," he joked. Harriet snickered.

"Yeah, but I think even I surprised myself," she said. "I thought I was just going to buy a nice, fancy one dinner, but I'm pretty sure I actually did buy somebody that I'm going to be introducing to my mom." She gestured to her front door. "Did you wanna come inside for a bit? Pretty sure you're too tired to make the long drive home."

"I don't live too far," Vlad replied. "It's about twenty minutes, I can easily get home."

"Oh?" Harriet lightly pressed. "You sure you're not too tired though? Don't need a coffee or anything? Or want to take a nap before you go?"

It finally clicked.

"Ah, you know, I think I would like to rest a bit before I go," he agreed. Harriet smiled, turning to unlock her door. Vlad grabbed the camera basket for her, and they went inside.

[a-night-like--this]

STRANGE TIMEZ Damon Albarn says The Cure’s Robert Smith is the ‘ultimate night owl’ after collaborating on new Gorillaz album

WITH his mop of unruly black hair, full eye make-up, gash of red lipstick and general air of mystery, The Cure’s Robert Smith seemed a tantalising prospect for those pesky Gorillaz.

So it was with some trepidation that the virtual band’s co-mastermind Damon Albarn shared a file containing the bones of a song with Goth-pop’s dark prince.

“I just sent him this skittish piano track, a drum beat and my nine-year-old niece’s mad trumpet playing,” he says.

“Robert said he absolutely loved it and I left it in his hands . . . ” Then silence.

Damon explains that “the months passed with hardly any feedback,” just “oh yeah, I might get the chance when I’ve finished something else.”

By this time, he is well into the latest Gorillaz project, Song Machine Season One: Strange Timez with co-conspirator, animator Jamie Hewlett.

He’s in lockdown in Devon with his family, where he’s set up a studio in a barn, while Jamie’s in Normandy turning the songs into riotous visual feasts for a season of YouTube episodes.

“Luckily for us, the one industry that never stopped was animation. If you’ve been an animator, you’ve been very busy,” reports Damon.

As ever with this creative chameleon, he’s also doing another piece of music . . . in this case putting the finishing touches to The Nearer The Fountain, More Pure The Stream Flows, written in and inspired by Iceland, where he has a house.

He picks up the story: “I was so relieved that I’d done it that I had a few drinks with Sam, my engineer. On my way out of the barn, I fell over, hit my head and I don’t remember getting back to the house.

“These things can happen when you’re in the middle of the countryside. When I woke up, I had a massive bump on the side of my head but, in my inbox, was an email from Robert Smith.

“It must have been five in the morning. I opened it and there it was, Strange Timez, the song that provided the title of the album.”

Damon Albarn and animator Jamie Hewlett make up GorillazCredit: Thomas Chéné

I strongly advise watching Gorillaz Song Machine Episode Six featuring the track, not only for seeing the characters 2-D, Murdoc Niccals, Russel Hobbs and Noodle in space suits “spinning around the world” but also for glimpsing Robert Smith’s inimitable features imposed on the moon.

Damon smiles when he considers his interactions with The Cure singer.

“He’s the ultimate night owl. All of his emails were nocturnal… they would start as the sun set,” he says.

“I didn’t realise it at the time but I also discovered that he’s very into astronomy.”

So how far back do they go? I ask. “I met Robert in 1990 in the urinals at Brixton Academy,” he replies.

“I went, ‘Oh you’re Robert Smith’ and he went, ‘Who are you?’ And he said, ‘Hello,’ and we parted company. He’s a man of few words.”

And was Damon a fan of The Cure during his teenage years before founding Blur with Graham Coxon, Alex James and Dave Rowntree?

Goth-pop’s dark prince, Robert Smith, is a confirmed 'night owl' according to Damon AlbarnCredit: Getty - Contributor

“Oh, I loved The Cure, absolutely brilliant,” he says. “Robert’s one of the most wonderful individuals. In fact when I got his contribution, I just thought, ‘Oh God, now I get a chance to sing with him!’ ”

But he adds, “When I actually tried to, our voices just didn’t work together, so I had to do my Sprechgesang, as they say in Germany.”

Sprechgesang is a vocal technique that lies somewhere between speaking and singing and goes back to Richard Wagner’s romantic 19th-century operas.

“I’ve been in the opera world for a while now,” smirks Damon, alluding to his operatic exploits Monkey: Journey To The West, Dr Dee and the new Mali-inspired Le Vol Du Boli.

‘It was nice to have my niece playing trumpet’

I tell the man who once sang Parklife that he’s getting quite high brow these days. “Not really, it’s just an illusion,” he decides.

Damon also describes how Strange Timez came to feature the free-spirited trumpet playing of his niece.

“She was down in Devon during lockdown and obviously homeschooling was tough,” he says.

“Thankfully my daughter is old enough not to need it but I saw how difficult it was for my sister to do it and she reflects all parents during this period.

“So it was nice to get my niece to come into the studio because she’s learning the trumpet and she just joined in on this particular tune.”

Although the Song Machine project began last year, it has evolved through the most challenging year in all our lives.

If the song Strange Timez reflects a world shifting on its axis, so does The Pink Phantom, featuring Elton John and rapper 6Lack.

Damon says: “That’s a song of this moment with lines like ‘seems to me I’m in a dream.’”

He remembers catching a glimpse of himself wearing a mask, like we all do. “I’m thinking, ‘Hang on, I’m walking down the street and everyone’s got masks on.’ That in itself is kind of mad but I’ve become used to it.”

Read more

[fleckcmscott]

Fun and Only

Summary: During a night out, Y/N and Arthur bump into someone from Arthur’s past. Y/N tries to decipher him.

Warnings: Swearing

Words: 4,088

A/N: This was a request from the sweet, kind @imdeaddear2! I hope you like it! Thank you for making the request, because I never would have written this scenario without it. 😀 Special thanks to @arthurflecc for the beautiful intro pic! Also, thanks to @hhandley80​ for reviewing the exchange in the middle section!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

"Y/N, it's little league season. Know what that means?"

Needing to finish the paragraph she was reading, Y/N raised a finger. The dense case on her desk was a tough assignment; she'd been toiling at it most of the morning. She liked her new position. Truly. But the pace at which she prepared files was slower than she would have preferred. The particulars of labor laws were, well...laborious. Reviewing evidence types she wasn't familiar with took time. It made her impatient. Anxious to soak up all the information she could get her hands on.

But, she supposed, no longer being plagued by guilt for indirectly supporting the Waynes was worth the learning curve.

Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her ankles, swinging her foot back and forth as she regarded Terry. While he was incredibly friendly, chatting with everyone and anyone, they remained acquaintances. Periodically, she conferred with him over a motion or sought to get his opinion about the upcoming mayoral election. ("I've seen Wayne's legal bullshit. He's not getting my vote.") Those discussions didn't go far. Usually, he tried to bond over parental matters - she and Arthur didn't even have a plant.

She could tell this was going to be another attempt. "You're doing a fundraiser and I should buy chocolate bars?" she asked.

"Even better." Digging into his too-tight pants pocket, he retrieved a checkbook-sized pamphlet. "The Gotham Squires are selling these to charter a bus for the All-Stars tournament. They're the number two team in the state!" He shoved a photo of his kid at her.

She murmured a polite, "He's all grown-up." He spoke of the team's new uniforms and his nine-year-old's batting average. Half-listening, she flipped through the booklet. It was a coupon collection, mostly two-for-one sales at various restaurants and vouchers for discounted movie tickets, good on weekdays only. They were quite pricey at fifteen dollars apiece. But she was inclined to buy one. The savings might help Arthur practice letting go of his wallet. Allow him to stop worrying about money and indulge a little, the way he deserved.

What made the cash fly from her purse to Terry's palm was the certificate in the back: a half-off deal for Amusement Mile. Satisfaction was written all over her face as she studied the yellow cardstock's terms and conditions, the outline of a circus tent, the faded ink encouraging her to "Enjoy the Ride!" Coming from a rural area, she'd never gone to an amusement park. One had been four or so hours east, but her father had preferred to stay close to home, fearing he might be needed in an emergency.

The annual county fair had been a must. Everyone had worn his or her Sunday Best, the occasional breeze kicking up dirt as they toured the fairground. The rides had been creaky, unsound, and should have been reported to the local safety commission. She'd gone on the Tilt-A-Whirl and the giant slide, waving at her parents and hanging onto her burlap sack. One year, Mabel had screamed and cried until Y/N grabbed her hand and led them out of the house of mirrors.

Swinging the mallet as hard as he could, her father had impressed her mother with the strongman game. The puck wouldn't hit the bell. Doily and needlework competitions had been her mother's purview, crafts Y/N had practiced but quickly tired of. She'd preferred the pie contest. Her mouth had watered, hankering for a taste of the first-place winner. The agricultural exhibits had been the largest section, with its prized horses, pigs, and chickens. She'd broken the rules and stuck her fingers in the rabbit cages to feel their soft fur; she'd been bitten once.

Wistfulness wasn't the only reason the theme park appealed to her. There was Arthur's history with it. He kept a postcard of the Ferris wheel pinned to the divider in his writing nook. And he'd described some of the odd jobs he'd done. Carrying boxes of merchandise, filling in for other clowns, picking up litter (and keeping the returnables). It hadn't been steady, merely hours offered to him if he'd inquired. But it'd given him pocket change. Enough to buy cigarettes and keep the utilities on for another month.

The week had been warm up till now, and the good weather was expected to continue. He loved taking her to new corners of the city, had ever since their first date. Introducing her to his old stomping ground wouldn't take a lot of convincing.

When she got home, he was perched on the sofa, clad in a thermal shirt and a pair of her too-short pajama bottoms. (A funny combination that meant their laundry was in the machine.) Elbows on his knees, journal on the coffee table, and pen at the ready, his concentration was plain to see. The discipline he had to pursue his dreams, the way he studied comedy specials on TV was admirable. She got a glass of water and smiled at his ill-timed laughter. That he didn't understand the host's humor was logical. Roasts were usually unkind. While Arthur's jokes weren't always funny, they weren't mean-spirited.

She crouched next to him, peppered kisses along his shoulder. His damp curls brushed her cheek, and she breathed in the zesty musk of his shampoo. "I wouldn't waste too much effort on this guy," she said. Her caress followed the freckles on his bare forearm, feeling the muscle flutter under her fingertips. "He's kind of an asshole."

"The audience helps me figure out the timing." He muted the television, lips quirking. "You like some of his songs."

"He makes a better singer than comedian," she rebutted with a peck.

They went over their respective days, how his earlier appointment went, the paperwork she'd done. Tuna casserole was their choice for dinner, and Arthur put on an LP while they cooked. Once the dish was in the oven, she hugged him close. "I have an idea for Thursday night." She went over the Amusement Mile discount, enthused about his expertise, reveled in how her praise softened his features and brightened his eyes. "I'd love it if you took me around. Taught me all the magic behind the scenes. And I'm dying to see where you do your street performances." She massaged the nape of his neck. "Maybe I'll stop by and give you a tip."

Crooked tooth peeking out, he nodded. Then he grasped the counter on either side of her hips and pressed his forehead to hers. "That sounds great."

~~~~~

A small memorial flowerbed, filled with alternating swirls of white gardenias, purple pansies, and yellow daffodils, was situated just beyond the park's main entrance. The marble fountain bubbling in the center reminded Y/N of a bird bath. It was modest, from a bygone era in which the wealthy hadn't dared to flaunt their fortunes for fear of strikes. The bronze plaque declared the city's thanks to Benjamin Wayne for funding Amusement Mile's construction during the height of Gotham's industrial boom. Before most of the factories had fled. Before times had become tough for the majority Gothamites. It was annoying, how the Waynes had their fingers in everything. She hoped not one nickel of what they spent tonight went into their bank accounts.

Arthur paid it no mind. His head was tipped back a degree or two, his clear green eyes darting from attraction to attraction. Smoking was one of his habits she disapproved of. But she couldn't dispute how attractive he was, puffing the cigarette dangling from his puckered lips. The chestnut tones of his brown hair were brought to the fore by the grounds' multi-color lighting, and a lock or two fell over his temples. The loose curls at his neck bounced with each step, a boyish buoyancy to his gait.

Her stomach growled as soon as the aroma of fair food hit her. They picked a booth that claimed it sold Gotham's original franks. He asked to order for her. She let him, watching as his grin widened and he stated, "Four hot dogs for my girlfriend and me, please. With relish and mustard." Then they shared a candy apple, taking turns nibbling at the fruit's hard, sugary shell. Its juice dribbled onto her pale pink top, staining the embroidered neckline. Her groan of disapproval became giggling as he stole chaste kisses, wiping her off as she chewed.

His palm at the small of her back, guiding her as they walked down the midway, fanned a glow in her heart. He'd made headway when it came to displaying his affection in public, though he still tended towards timidity. Early on, she'd concluded his reticence had nothing to do with her - he never pulled away if she grabbed at him. He was simply a gentleman.

Most examples he followed were from an older era, one lost to the bluntness of the eighties. Those moments he'd let himself go, when he'd make it clear they were a couple, lifted her spirit. Not only due to the pride she felt at being on his arm, but also because it meant he was finding his own way. Arthur wasn't a shy suitor or a contemporary romantic hero. Rather, he was somewhere in the middle. Old fashioned, through and through, with threads of modernity woven into his fibers.

As they strolled, they stumbled onto a black and white photo booth. She sat on its cracked wooden stool and tried to tug him inside. But he wanted a picture of her, he said. To put in his wallet. To look at if he was having a bad day and wasn't at home. Her response was to snag his collar and yank him to her lips. Snorting, he shut the nylon curtain. At the clink of quarters in the coin slot, she straightened her puffed, cap sleeves and fixed her hair in the scratched featherweight mirror. The camera's flashes blinded her, but she thought she'd managed to smile naturally enough.

Before she had a chance to stand, he whipped open the drape and showed her the strip of portraits. "I knew I was dating the prettiest woman in the city. Maybe even the sweetest."

She cupped his cheeks as she stepped out. Rubbed the tip of her nose to his. He was unfailingly generous. Too generous. While she was fine with her appearance, she wouldn't win a beauty pageant. Hell, she wouldn't even be a runner-up. Or a contestant. And sweet was one of the last words she'd use to describe herself. But she wasn't going to correct him. "And I found the handsomest, funniest man." His stare was wide-eyed. After releasing a stuttering breath, he pulled her along.

Upon entering the gaming area, he slung his arm around her waist. Mischief laced his whisper as he spilled secrets. The darts for the balloon pop were dull, the balloons underinflated. He advised her to stay clear of the baseball and milk bottle stand, saying, "The bottom bottles have lead in them. You'll never knock them over."

Then he warned her off the ring toss, saying the rings were too small to win the best prizes. She decided to take her chances, regardless, and paid the attendant. Arthur tutted gently as she gave him the last ring, having already wasted four.  A step to the side, then he paused to line up his throw. A short clap announced his victory. The prize options included a dinky toy car and a rubber snake. She picked a plastic, red keychain, embossed with "I was Amused in 1982" and the silhouette of a coaster. It was an improvement over her old car dealership tag. "I'll think of tonight whenever I see it."

Gaze fixed on her mouth, he sighed happily. He began to reach towards her, his arm raised ever so slightly-

"Art!" a rich baritone called. "Hey, Art!"

Arthur flinched. She moved to peer behind him. The approaching man was tall, his balding head half a foot higher than Arthur's. A blue and red flannel shirt with gray trousers covered his portly physique. Confidence oozed from him with every stride, a pleasantly surprised smirk on his round face.

Y/N's interest was piqued. Unless it was someone who remembered Arthur from Live! with Murray Franklin, no one ever approached him on the street. And she hadn't heard him be referred to by anything other than his proper name (besides Penny's terrible "Happy.").

But his reactions concerned her. Arthur's back tensed as the man closed in, stopping a yard away. "Hi, Randall."

"How's my boy been?" Randall asked jovially, hands at his sides. "Gary told us about your mom. Could you use a little cheering up?"

Arthur blinked faster than usual. "No. She's okay. And I feel a lot better now."

"Oh. Well, good for you," Randall said.

Going back and forth between them, she tried to puzzle out their dynamic. Their familiarity was obvious. Randall seemed caring enough, although she found it odd he'd referred to her thirty-five-year-old partner as "boy." Arthur had mentioned Gary was a former colleague. It would make sense Randall was, too.

He threw her a glance. "Hey, you have family visiting. Is this your cousin?"

She brushed off the assumption and extended her hand. "I'm Y/N L/N. His girlfriend."

"Oh, yeah. The paralegal." He shook it firmly before addressing Arthur again. "Gary said you finally got a date."

The pat to Arthur's bicep was a little too hard, jolting his stiff frame. The set of his jaw and flaring of his nostrils betrayed a turmoil she hadn't initially picked up on. She touched his hand but he shoved it in his pocket.

All right. She had to get to the bottom of this. It was hard to ascertain if his current reaction was due to his social challenges (which could cause discomfort) or Randall's words. She didn't want to jump to conclusions. After all, she and Patricia teased each other whenever they met for lunch or chatted on the phone. A good ribbing was needed every once in a while.

Starting a cross-examination in front of Arthur would contribute to his unease. After a moment's deliberation, she nudged him. It took a couple of tries to get his attention. "Would you please get us a large lemonade?" His brows rose, anxiety in the wrinkles of his forehead. She stretched to kiss his temple. His eyes narrowed but he got the hint, scuffing his shoe and glowering at Randall as he walked off.

When Arthur rounded a corner by the water pistol race, she lounged on one of the booth's metal poles. "Have you known Arthur long?"

Randall nodded in the direction Arthur had gone. "We worked at HaHa's. I'm a clown, too. We did parties, the children's hospital, store openings."

"Arthur loved that job." She crossed her arms over her chest. "It's too bad the slow season hit. But he's doing pretty well on his own."

Confusion crossed the big man's visage. "Uh, yeah. The slow season." He chuckled, then. "Anyway, you and Art, huh?"

Smiling broadly, she folded her arms over her chest. "Yes, me and Art."

"Pretty serious, huh?"

If he wanted gossip to bring back to the workplace, she'd gladly give him some. Especially if it reflected well on Arthur. "We live together. It's been great."

"No kidding." With a sardonic grin, he shook his head. "A woman like you. I didn't know he had it in him. It was always just him and his mom. Talked about stand-up sometimes. Mostly kept to himself, though. Never really talked much." Randall shrugged lightly. "But we liked him. He did all the shitty jobs no one wanted and never complained."

Arching a brow, Y/N felt her suspicions grow. While Arthur was learning to disagree and contradict her without hesitation, he nevertheless had the inclination to go along. It was plausible he hadn't argued about gigs. Had they taken his preferences into account?

Then Randall confirmed her skepticism, saying in a jokey tone, "That laugh really got everyone going, too. And his laminated cards. We had a pool on whether it was part of his act. I mean, him being in Arkham and all, who knows what the fuck he could have come up with?"

Deciphering what kind of man stood in front of her was suddenly uncomplicated. She'd run into his type all too often. They lurked in garages and offices. Diners and restaurants. Courtrooms on both sides of the bench. People with no real power who walked on others. Persons who threw their weight around to feel in charge. Bullies who hid behind a veneer of kindness.

She understood why he'd called Arthur "boy."

What she said had to be chosen carefully. Randall and Arthur worked in the same field, likely competed for clients. If her big mouth came back on Arthur, she wouldn't forgive herself. She straightened, squared her shoulders, and forced her voice to stay professional. "If you liked him, wouldn't you have split the less desirable jobs with him? I'm sure he didn't like being taken advantage of."

His looked at her in disbelief. "Hey, he was paid fair and square, like all of us."

"And he understands how to speak to a 'woman like me' more than you ever will." A sharp exhale as her cheeks burned. "From what Arthur has said, you could learn a lot from Gary. Please tell him hello from us and have a good evening." With that, she headed off to find Arthur, ignoring Randall's lame attempts to call her back.

Arthur was in line when she spotted him. He stepped forward and pointed to the menu. As she approached, she noticed how he fidgeted with his cigarette, tapping it repeatedly though there was no ash. The subtle tremble in his knee. If he continued to carry himself so tightly, his muscles would cramp.

Clearing her throat, she slipped behind him and hugged his back. "Did you have to deal with that insufferable know-it-all every day?"

He grabbed the proffered cup from the clerk and headed to a nearby table. Plunked himself down and took a drag off his smoke. Stress poured off him, clear in every flex of his fingers. His palm went to his stomach as he practiced controlling his breathing. "What- What did he tell you? That everyone thought I was a freak? How much I fucked up?" His voice lowered then, barely above a whisper. She could tell he was talking to himself. "The hospital?"

"Enough to know he was a jerk. I'm glad you're not there anymore." She put her chin on his shoulder. Watched him take a sip of lemonade. "Nothing he said matters, but I told him how important you are to me." She tucked a hair behind his ear, and he leaned into her touch. Their gazes met, his shining in the dim light. The evening had been fantastic so far. She wasn't going to let some asshole ruin it. "Come on," she urged, jutting her hip towards him. "We still have half the park to explore."

~~~~~

About a third of the way through their ride on the Mad Hatter, Amusement Mile's famous coaster, Y/N realized eating had been a mistake. A big one. Thrown to a fro in the sharp curves, she could nearly taste the bile in the throat. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, willing her nausea to pass. For his part, Arthur appeared exhilarated, laughing with every peak and valley. Seeing that happiness was a gift, one that gratified and partially distracted from her queasiness.

Fortunately, the enclosed cabins on the Ferris wheel were a respite. They waited an extra turn to board the outer wheel, which rotated at a leisurely pace and allowed her stomach to settle. The view from the top was beautiful, Gotham Cathedral's lit spires and the Westward Bridge prominent against the night sky. Wayne Tower was also visible, but she did her best to ignore the high-rise and its gaudy "W." He pointed in the direction of Burnley and said, "There's our home." She was unexpectedly moved. Then he kissed her soundly, which quickly advanced to mild necking when the wheel paused.

The carousel was antique, according to the sign. The only original attraction left in the park. A massive wooden structure with a mirrored center, it had three rows of horses, broken up by the occasional bench. He stepped onto the gray platform and picked one, painted red and yellow, roses etched along its back. But she climbed a nearby leaping horse instead, its black mane and tan body faded by years of sunlight.

He quirked a dark brow until she beckoned him with a nod. Cheeks pink, countenance tender in the lingering blinks of the incandescent bulbs, he followed suit. "Hang onto me," she instructed. As the calliope's whistles began their jaunty tune, he cupped her hips and pressed into her. A flutter tickled her stomach. She reclined against him, let her eyes fall shut as his warmth surrounded her. Round and round they went, chuckling airily. Not at any jokes or amusements, but at the joy of one another.

Arthur picked the last ride, an old mill called Romantic River Caves. She had to stop herself from snickering at the idea of a middle-aged woman and her nearly-middle-aged boyfriend cruising along in something built for teenagers. But he delighted in cliches and corniness, a preference she attributed to his inexperience and kind nature. Though such gestures hadn't thrilled her since she was a girl, she appreciated them with him.

The boats were short and narrow, just wide enough for the two of them to sit side-by-side. Curved backrests encouraged cuddling. Off-key versions of old standards played through tinny speakers. Myriad displays were inside, a mix of plaster dioramas and paintings. Two swans swimming, their beaks touching. A couple on a picnic under a tree. Bouquets and hearts galore. There were five or so seconds of darkness between each one. He took advantage of those breaks, kissing her again and again until she was breathless.

She scanned the starry painting above them, the comets' trails stretched across the tunnel's ceiling. "It's been a long time since I've done anything like this. Twenty-five? Thirty years?"

"Me, too. I snuck in when I was a kid. To see the circus and the merry-go-round." He smoothed his hair back, pressed his legs tighter together. "When I moonlighted here, I could've gone on the rides and to the shows. I- I didn't want to alone."

He paused and she put her palm on his thigh. Gave him an encouraging squeeze. "That postcard I have?" he said. "By my desk? It was in my locker at HaHa's." His fingers covered hers, tips tracing her knuckles. "It's good to have a person to have fun with. To have you."

She beamed at that sentiment, for she felt it, too. Yes, she'd been complete on her own. No, she hadn't been lonely. But he added to her existence. Introduced her to activities and experiences she hadn't previously considered or realized she'd needed. Going to a comedy club. Dancing despite her lack of skill. Or enjoying vulnerability during quiet conversations in their bedroom rather than fearing it. He'd broadened her life in ways she was still discovering. And he regularly told her she'd bettered his. "You're my favorite ride," she said.

A sharp snort left him, followed by a bashful chuckle. He shook his head. "You're crazy."

"I didn't mean that." She batted his chest playfully. Tried to cross her legs under the safety bar. "This relationship we've started." Light appeared at the end of the tunnel, the shallow pool's grimy floor coming into view as the water level fell. Soon they'd be amongst the crowd. "Remember when I said we'd never be perfect? I like our imperfections. They fit. Like..." She contemplated. "A pen and paper. They're good on their own but they're best together." Cringing, she covered her face. "God, that didn't even make sense. A pen needs paper."

"Didn't you say you needed me?" he teased, pulling her hand from her brow to place it on his sternum. "I don't mind being your paper." Blushing, Y/N turned to him when he cupped her jaw. Ran his thumbs over her cheeks. She joined him in ignoring the attendant's instruction to disembark. Arthur kissed her, a delicate graze to her mouth before he drew her bottom lip between his. "You're the best ride, too."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​, @howdylilflower​, @sweet-nothings04​, @stephieraptorr​, @rommies​, @fallenstarsabyss​, @gruffle1​, @octopus-plasma​, @tsukiakarinobara​, @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile​, @another-day-in-chuckletown​, @hhandley80​, @jokerownsmysoul​, @64-crayon​

[researchcognizance]

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[chrysalispen]

upon pale dawns, prologue II: ardent for some desperate glory

AO3 Link HERE

=====

Castrum Abania, 9th Sun, Third Umbral Moon, Year 5 of the Seventh Umbral Era

The room was cold and its silence sterile, broken only by the sounds of a dry ticking from the digital wall chronometer and the soft and regular sighs of a sleeping man.

Silence in itself was hardly anything to be remarked upon, let alone a surprise. The research and development floors were always kept clear of unnecessary chatter in favor of the sound and rhythm of industry, small gears turning amidst the well-oiled machine of imperial conquest. Standard procedure, that. Especially when the work that took place away from prying eyes was exacting and often hazardous.

But for several hours, the relative darkness and the ambient cycling of the console's processor had been interspersed only with the low rumble of the central air unit and the rhythmic rattle of footsteps without the corridors, and Nero tol Scaeva had been awake for most of the past thirty hours. He had finally fallen asleep waiting for one of his processes to run and lay half-sprawled over the metal surface of the table: limbs immobile and lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he drowsed at the empty work station he’d appropriated upon his arrival in the lower levels.

When the chiming began, it went unheeded at first. The timer had been set in this instance to ring without cessation, however, and after a few minutes had lapsed the sound began to send him drifting wide from his dreaming state by ilms. The transition from sleeping to wakefulness felt reluctant: heavy and sluggish, a pearl diver kicking against deep currents, breaking the surface tension of consciousness through brute force.

He blinked slowly, once, then twice, attempting to reorient himself.

The noise was also aggravating an incipient headache. Nero righted his posture with a tired grumble and smacked the damned thing until blessed silence reigned once more, before reaching for the mug he had left on a borrowed coaster (long since gone cold. His own fault, he owned). Sipping at its contents with a distasteful grimace - whoever had brewed the coffee, they had added too much water and the result was something weak and listless and far too bitter - he turned his attention towards the old Allagan testing module and its compiling readout.

It appeared to be reaching the end of its cycle. So he thought, until the activity scrolling across the screen flickered in place and pulsed once, twice, an arrythmia within the steady heartbeat of the machine. Nero swore under his breath when on its heels, a brief error message superimposed itself over the readout in black-bordered white. One he’d seen with far too many of these devices recently.

[Unable to read file. The current application will be terminated.]

An annoyed sigh escaped in a hiss between his teeth.

Brow wrinkled in thought, he stared at the screen for a few beats. This was but one of many datalog volumes his team had salvaged at the original site. The initial discovery had excited him - it had excited everyone, in fact, including the legatus - as it well should have done, but getting the godsdamned things to yield the fruit he sought was quickly proving to be an exercise in tedium.

Although Ultima’s original hardware was in surprisingly reasonable working order, several of the tomestones they had found in the same space had not proven to be nearly as resistant to the vagaries of time. Thus far, only a handful had relinquished their secrets without issue or delay. Not entirely unexpected, given their age and the conditions in which they’d been found, but unfortunate all the same.

The tribunus laticlavius of the XIVth Imperial Legion was not a patient man by nature, given to rather more direct methods of approach, but as a man of thirty-four winters with a good fifteen of them spent in the legions, he had very much learned the value of that particular skill. It was one he had developed through years of trial and error and the innate understanding of those traits his chosen craft required.

Magitek was not ineffable. It was parts and pieces that fit together neatly like a puzzle in the absence of human error. To guide and to create with these tools required a methodical mind and observant eye, as well as a certain degree of acceptance that on occasion one simply could not rush the desired results.

This was one such occasion. The end result, of course, would be worth the means. Or so one might fondly hope.  

Nero leaned forward and compressed the small button until the module had powered down and all that was left was the rumbling rattle of the castrum's central air unit (always running this time of year). A gentle tug freed the small tomestone from its moorings and he held it aloft to study the detailing, periwinkle-blue eyes squinting and straining against the red-tinged light from the fluorescents.

The small grooves caught the ambient lighting from the walls with each idle spin between his fingers. They seemed to mock him with each little shimmer: ancient secrets so painfully close to discovery that they lay mere ilms from his grasp. Secrets which promised a long and tedious process if he wished to claim them.

...Well. He’d do it, of course he would. Aught he deemed necessary - good, bad, or ugly - in order to see Project Ultima to completion. Even were it not his primary directive, he had always had every intention of plundering their contents at his leisure for the challenge of it and the knowledge to be had. This was but the least method at his disposal. There were some few other options he might employ, which might serve to successfully extract the data into some readable format that he could put to use.

While the old datalogs were fascinating, he wasn't spending his time reading them for a history lesson. No, what he sought was preliminary information, something upon which to safely extrapolate. Ideally he'd end up with a dossier of sorts which he could use to catalogue the Weapon’s original abilities, and enough code to piece together an operating system more or less analogous to that of Allag, albeit one powered by ceruleum instead of aether. If he could simply-

A much lower-pitched sound than his armor’s onboard timer - not an alarum but a harsh, flat buzz - cut through the quiet of the lab. Nero’s first inclination was to ignore it in favor of his study, but a second followed quickly on its heels, and a third. 

That, unfortunately, meant someone was expecting him to answer.

With a barely suppressed yawn he toggled the small red switch next to the wall’s built-in communications device. “Scaeva. Engineering," he said, keeping his tone clipped and curt- the voice of a man who would brook no disturbances. "State your business.”

The response he received was a very audible swallow followed with a hoarsely uttered, “Lord Scaeva?”

“Speaking."

"My lord?"

Nero sighed. "Speaking. As in 'with whom do I have the pleasure.' Name and rank."

“Oh. Terribly sorry, my lord. I, erm, Quintus pyr Blasio. Lord, uh. Tribunus. Sir.”

Seven hells. Not a name Nero recalled, though he rarely had reason to trouble himself over memorizing the personnel that manned every garrison between Ala Mhigo and the Velodyna fringes. Some poor bastard who was likely the first man flagged down for runner duty by his direct report, no doubt. Some poor bastard who was also either too dazzled or too shit-scared of speaking to the legion's top brass to string three coherent words together. Just what he needed.  

“...Go on,” he prompted when the man said nothing further.

“Lord Sc-”

“I daresay we’ve both established our identities at this juncture," impatience and lingering drowsiness rendered his response a sardonic drawl, for all its erstwhile civility. "The message, if you please.”

“Message, my lord?”

“Yes. The message. That is why you’ve called to interrupt my current litany of scheduled tasks, or so I assume?”

“Ah... y-yes. Yes, my lord.” The speaker at the other end of the connection paused, and on its heels came the sound of a clearing throat. “Ah, Lord van Baelsar asked that I, er, that is, he requests your presence to discuss-”

“He wants me to attend a meeting,” Nero cut in. “When and where?”

“Half four, my lord. Ah- in Sector VI. The administrative complex south of the new hangar.”

Half four- it was five minutes past now. With the identification checks and elevators taken into account, that gave him about ten minutes' leeway. The timing would be somewhat tight to work in, perhaps, but it was perfectly feasible.

The man’s nervous, ragged breathing crackled across the link; the only other sound was the flat drumming of Nero’s fingertips upon the metal surface as he mentally rearranged the next hour he’d dedicated to other tasks. It was an inconvenience to be certain. He was going to have to run the process once more after some adjustments were made, and clearly, it would need closer supervision. Meaning the sleep he knew he needed was not going to be an option.

But this summons still amounted to an order, and hardly one he could disregard or countermand. Heavily classified weapon project or no.

“Understood," he said at last. "Inform the legatus that I will be along presently."

"I will, Lord tol Scaeva. I-"

"In future, do make some bare attempt at brevity when delivering messages, tessarius- for your own sake.”

Another gulp. “Of course, my lord. I’ll pass alo--”

Before the hapless soldier could waste more of his time stammering out another response, the tribunus laticlavius flipped the switch and cut the connection. The line went dead with a static click.

Nero was a practical man, one rarely wont to let trivial annoyances linger. As he set the artifact aside to reach for the fountain pen at his elbow and drew a small leather-bound planner from the desk drawer, a habit he’d kept since his Academy days, he could already feel his focus shifting, moving onwards.

He rolled the pen thoughtfully betwixt index and middle fingers, eyes flickering away from the planner to linger briefly upon the blank console screen. No doubt there was also more useful information to be ascertained from the old Meteor Project dossier; he’d request another copy of the relevant files through the proper channels once the meeting concluded.

In the meantime, it seemed a progress report was likely to be expected upon his timely - and fully conscious - arrival. Strict self-imposed schedule notwithstanding, it wouldn’t do for him to be the only one empty-handed.

He flipped the notebook open to a fresh and empty page, tilted the ink nub, and began to write.

[boymeetsweevil]

SS3 - MYG, Fluff, 1791w

You’re not even supposed to be on the pay roll anymore because you’re supposed to be phasing yourself out of work entirely. There’s a new intern that you’ve been training a few days a week to take over for you until he’s competent enough to let you fully withdraw from your position as secretary to the CEO of Min Corp.

Said intern has just called you with what sounds like tears thickening his voice to inform you that Min Yoongi, said CEO, is terrorizing the employees.

“Jungkook,” you use the same tone you might use to calm down a lost toddler in a grocery store. “Take a deep breath for me please.”

A shaky breath crackles through your phone speaker.

“Good. Now tell me what Yoongi’s doing. What do you mean he’s terrorizing people?”

“Yoongi—I mean, Mr. Min has made three separate IT workers cry because of jammed printer and he sent the head accountant into a panic attack with a request for a two week advance on the quarter reports.”

You sigh and lift a hand that was submerged in the fragrant bath you’d drawn to pinch at the bridge of your nose.

“Did you read the 3rd section of the binder I gave you? There should be stuff in there for when we need to increase speed in specific departments. There’s outside agents we can enlist—”

“I called them, and they’ve agreed to come help out and I’ve gotten the paperwork for their payments ready.”

“Okay. What about the printer?”

“I unjammed it myself. It s-seems to be working fine.”

“Good! So just tell him and I’m sure that’ll solve things.”

“I don’t—I don’t feel super comfortable talking to him right now.”

“Jungkook, I told you that Yoongi is normally very rational. If you tell him the problem’s solved, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“Sorry, you’re right.”

He’s quiet then. The sound of paper small clinks in the background grab your attention.

“What’s that sound?”

“It’s nothing!”

“Jungkook.”

“It’s not a big deal. I just...he also,” Jungkook sniffs a meek little sound, “knocked over my lego replica of the office. It was an accident though—”

“I’ll leave in 5 minutes. Don’t let him leave his office, barricade the door if you have to.”

It’s defeated tone of voice that makes you get out of the tub you were soaking in. Water gets everywhere and the calming atmosphere you had painstakingly set up so you could have a lazy morning and afternoon is long gone.

Jungkook barely has any time to protest or beg you not to mention him calling you before you hang up.

Normally Yoongi is all bark and no bite. There’s no need to bite when his reputation as a former gangbanger preceded him so well. Too well, in some cases. Yoongi came from almost nothing and turned to illegal activities as a child in an act of desperation to care for his ailing mother. He’d learned about (legal) business after one of his elderly bosses took a liking to him and showed him some of the ropes.

Even after he started getting out of the gang and getting interested in business, it took years to get past the fearful glances and rejections that so many people in the industry sent his way. It was only after a lucky investment that he was able to start building his business from scratch.

Now, he’s able to care for his family and provide means for his employees to do the same while running a successful head hunting firm. When you were fresh out of college and looking for work anywhere, he was the only one that took a chance on your meager application. He was ruthless back then, but so were you.

So in 9 years of acting as his right hand, it was inevitable that you would learn about his past. No one else at the company knew that it nearly cost him his life to start this new chapter. He has the scar on his shoulder to prove it. Sometimes when it gets close to a certain time of year the memory of what he almost lost creeps over him.

When you finally arrive you find Jungkook gnawing on his thumb as he eyes the door to Yoongi’s office unblinkingly. The walls of the office are soundproofed to protect the confidentiality of his clients when he has important meetings and phonecalls, but you can still hear the way he snarls into the phone.

“How long has he been like that,” you ask as you hang up your coat behind Jungkook’s desk. The lego office lies in a heap of probably more than a thousand pieces in a pilfered custodian’s bucket. You can’t help but frown.

“About 20 minutes on the phone. Maybe a few hours today in general.”

“Alright. I'll go in.”

“Is that safe,” he eyes you with poorly hidden awe as you move towards the door.

“Is a zookeeper safe when they enter a tiger’s cage?”

“No?”

“That’s your answer, I guess.”

“Seokjin, I don’t give a flying fuck about the new cases. I gave those to your team weeks ago. Bring me an update on the Simmons case, or I swear I’ll come down there and pull it out your ass myself.”

The sound of the door to the office closing has him rushing to end the call so he can redirect the yelling. He tosses his phone back onto the glass surface of his desk with a harsh crack and turns to face the skyline in the window, his back facing you.

“I thought I told you I don’t want any more of that shit you call tea. It’s doing fuck all to calm me down so why don’t you—”

“Mr. Min, please take a seat.”

The line of his shoulders, already grimly hunched, shoots up further. He clearly wasn’t expecting you. It’s your day off. Technically.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is still low and tense, but the volume is significantly softer.

“Please take a seat, Mr. Min.”

There’s no need for pretenses when the two of you are alone. You could curse him with the foulest language you have for being an ass to the people who keep his company functioning like the well oiled machine that it is. But you know that your message is that much louder by using your professional voice with him.

He turns then, dark brows set heavy over stormy eyes. It would be incredibly intimidating if it weren’t for the slight turn in his lower lip giving him a subtle petulant expression. Someone’s having a bad day.

Grumbling the entire time, Yoongi takes himself to the long leather sofa that rests off to the side of the office. You make your way over to the couch as well after peering at his desk. It’s covered in papers as if he dumped onto the table one of the folders that he normally organizes with great care. The collection of expensive fountain pens that he’s received as gifts from various successful deals lay strewn about as well. And there’s a hairline crack running through the surface of the ornate globe he received as a birthday gift from one of his old bosses.

When you finally come to stand behind him, the grumbling has been replaced with silent fuming. His arms are crossed and his silk tie hangs like a dead snake around his neck after being roughly undone.

With no words, you reach forward and slide the shoulders of his jacket down  his arms. 

“You don’t have to,” he sighs a moment later. If you listen closely you can already hear the embarrassment from letting his emotions get the best of him.

Ignoring him, you dig your fingers into the meat of his shoulders. He jumps and lets out a hiss as you drag the pads of your fingers over the raised skin of his scar beneath the fine cotton of his button down. A low curse leaves his lips but nothing more comes out as you continue to untangle the muscles that had somehow knotted up impressively during the few hours of the day that had passed. You can only imagine how painful the actual injury is despite it having healed a little more than a decade ago. 

It takes a while and your hands cramp up with the amount of force you’re using to massage the pain away. When there’s merely a phantom ache, he raises a hand to grasp one of yours. The action has you freezing up this time. He turns his head so the soft skin of his cheek brushes against your wrist. His cheeks are damp from a few pained tears he shed. His lips press dryly against the back of your palm and he turns more so he can pull your hand forward. It’s awkward but he doesn’t care. So long as he can pepper small kisses against your hands.

“Come back to work,” he says finally. 

“No.”

“Marry me, then.” There’s no flair, no drama. He says it like he’s asking you to run an errand with him.

“No. And stop always asking me that.”

“I’ll stop asking when you stop saying no.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well, you’ve never given a reason. I deserve that at least.”

He turns to face you then with eyes that are just a tad bit shiny. All of the sharp, feline essence gone when replaced by frustration that’s still plenty fond.

“Because I don’t feel like it yet. And it’s fun to tell you no.”

From this angle, you can see the very top of the tiger tattoo he got when he was not yet a man. It peaks out of from underneath his collar. You pick up his tie and loop it back around his neck while he’s distracted.

“Have pity on me” he lays his cheek back on your wrist as you finish up a simple Windsor knot. “I’m just a simple man who wants to settle down with the love of his life.”

“How about you go apologize to everyone for your outburst,” he winces but looks properly ashamed. “And then maybe I’ll think about it.”

“Fine.”

“And make sure you give a special apology to Jungkook for ruining his replica.”

“To the temp, are you kidding me? The kid put it on the edge where it was begging to get broken. I’m pretty sure the tail of my jacket did it.”

“Just do it, Yoongi.”

He leans in then, nose brushing against yours. “Say yes and I’ll even hire someone to rebuild it for him.”

“Go apologize already.”

He huffs but strides to the door with purpose.

“Promise you’ll think about it?”

“I’ll think about it.”

[handeaux]

Hanging By A Thread: 50 Years Of Weird Suggestions To Save Union Terminal

Newly restored and reopened, Union Terminal is the pride of Cincinnati. In the years since its debut as the Museum Center on November 10, 1990, the Terminal has become the fourth-largest attraction in our region, behind the Cincinnati Reds, Kings Island, and the Cincinnati Zoo.

Cincinnatians forget that, almost from the day it opened in 1933, Cincinnati tried to figure out what the building was supposed to be. Henry M. Waite, chief engineer during construction of the Terminal, spoke to the Rotary Club when they met at the Terminal on the day before dedication ceremonies. According to the Cincinnati Enquirer [31 March 1933] Waite praised the building’s beauty but expressed skepticism about its utility:

“We will have visitors from all parts of the country to view this station, and I hope it is not too much to wish that they would come by train. I presume, however, they will use their automobiles.”

While Union Terminal operated near capacity throughout World War II, passengers quickly bled away to automobiles and airplanes. Passenger service was eliminated in 1972, but efforts to find alternative uses were underway as early as the 1950s.

Parking for the Reds

In 1957, Union Terminal figured into plans to keep the Cincinnati Reds from moving to New York. The Brooklyn Dodgers and New York Giants departed that year for sunny California, and New York City was left holding the bag. That bag contained an unfulfilled offer to build what would become Shea Stadium as part of a futile effort to hold either of the National League teams in Gotham. Snubbed by both, New York determined to build that stadium anyway, so why not the lure the Reds to the Big Apple? Cincinnati owner Powel Crosley Jr. hinted that he might consider such an offer, because he needed parking. Cincinnati, he said, was dragging its feet on demolishing buildings near Crosley Field to feed his need. The city rushed a plan onto paper, according to the Enquirer [28 December 1957] that offered 8,000 additional parking spaces, including the potential for more as maintenance facilities for passenger trains were no longer needed at Union Terminal.

City Hall

A 1961 plan proposed Union Terminal as Cincinnati’s new City Hall. A “study committee” of the Cincinnatus Association recommended this use in a report. City Manager C.A. Harrell told the Enquirer [15 March 1961] that “a new city hall isn’t in the immediate or even near-term future for Cincinnati.”

Convention Center

Harrell also dodged the suggestion, a year later, to turn the terminal into a convention center. City Council said the 1962 effort made no sense because Union Terminal was too far from downtown hotels and restaurants to hold conventions. This assertion led the legendary Enquirer reporter, Bob Elkins, to time his walk from the old Sheraton Gibson to the Terminal – 39 minutes including having to wait at a “Don’t Walk” light.

Airport

Louis Nippert, at one time owner of the Cincinnati Reds, suggested in 1963 that Union Terminal would make a fantastic airport – if only the airplanes used that brand-new GE VTOL (Vertical Take-Off & Landing) technology. Herbert Stevens, director of Cincinnati’s planning commission, told the Enquirer [7 September 1963] the idea would be taken under advisement, even though helicopter operators had told him they would not use the terminal as a base.

Science Center

The futuristic design of the Terminal led many minds to think of science. Before the Natural History Museum moved in, a Museum of Health, Science and Industry, known as MOHSI, rented space in Union Terminal beginning in 1982 and served as many as 10,000 students a year. From 1968 to 1970, the Cincinnati Science Center operated a hands-on museum in one of Union Terminal’s exhibition halls. Someone even suggested it would make a wonderful planetarium.

Jerry Springer

As part of the 1973 campaign to rescue the landmark, Jerry Springer recorded a song titled “Save The Terminal,” (often incorrectly reported as “Save The Union Terminal.” The folky protest song was produced by Shad O’Shea and released on Council Records. Writing credits were S. Flaharty, T. West and J. Eliot. The flip side featured a song co-written by O’Shea, “Faded Photos (Just Won’t Do).” You can still enjoy these gems at https://youtu.be/mYVfrPQpQRc

Recreation Center

In 1975, the City of Cincinnati placed advertisements in the Wall Street Journal, headlined “World-famous Cincinnati Union Terminal for lease - $1 per year!” That brought in some unusual proposals. Remember Oz? In 1977, a city task force selected the Columbus-based Skilken & Company to renovate Union Terminal as a recreation center including a discotheque, restaurants, shops, a “human pinball machine,” a roller rink, ice-skating rink and something called a “Wizard’s Ice Cream Parlor.”

Death of Lincoln Park

The ill-fated Oz project killed Lincoln Park. Union Terminal sits on a plot of land that was once known as Lincoln Park, created as a city park in 1858. It is often claimed that Union Terminal replaced Lincoln Park, but that’s only half-true. Lincoln Park was still very much a manicured greenspace until 1977 when the Skilken Organization proposed their entertainment mall and demanded parking, which meant bulldozing the lawns and trees that remained between Western Avenue and the Terminal fountain. When the West End Task Force objected to the destruction of the last recreational space in their neighborhood, developer Steve Skilken was blunt: “They can have their greenspace, if they want it, but then I’ll let them have their terminal, too. They can pay me for the work I’ve done and the money I’ve put into it, and I’ll go elsewhere.” City Council folded and the remnants of Lincoln Park were asphalted.

Shopping Mall

No longer named Oz, the Union Terminal Shopping Mall opened in 1980 with an F.A.O. Schwartz toy store, Les Palmier restaurant, a Doubleday book shop, LaTabagie tobacconists and 30 other vendors, many in pushcarts. Mimes and puppeteers entertained on weekends for a few months. By 1983, only six stores occupied the increasingly empty Terminal and legal claims flew back and forth. Loehmann’s clothing, the last tenant, moved out in 1987.

At Last . . . The Museum Center

By then, the Museum of natural History and the Cincinnati Historical Society had solidified plans to move from Eden Park to the West End. Today, with the completion of a massive two-year $228-million repair and restoration project, the Terminal once again welcomes more than 1 million visitors annually to the Cincinnati History Museum, the Cincinnati History Library and Archives, the Duke Energy Children's Museum, the Museum of Natural History & Science, the Robert D. Lindner Family Omnimax Theater and the Nancy & David Wolf Holocaust & Humanity Center.

It took a long time and many detours to get here.

[captainvileshmodiworld-blog]

Global Fountain Machines Market 2019 | Manufacturers In-Depth Analysis Report to 2024

The latest trending report Global Fountain Machines Market 2019-2024 added by DecisionDatabases.com

Fountain Machine is a device that dispenses carbonated drinks. They can be found in restaurants, concession stands and other locations such as convenience stores. The device combines syrup (commonly dispensed from a BagIn-Box), carbon dioxide, and water to make soft drinks. By extension, the term also may refer to a small eating establishment, common in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, often within a pharmacy or other business, serving soda beverages, ice cream, and sometimes light meals.

The worldwide market for Fountain Machines is expected to grow at a CAGR of roughly 2.4% over the next five years, will reach 2540 million US$ in 2024, from 2210 million US$ in 2019.

This report focuses on the Fountain Machines in global market, especially in North America, Europe and Asia-Pacific, South America, Middle East and Africa. This report categorizes the market based on manufacturers, regions, type and application.

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Market Segment by Manufacturers, this report covers

·          Lancer

·          Cornelius

·          Manitowoc

·          Zikool

·          Himalay Soda Fountain

·          Planet Soda Machine

·          Cool Star

·          Softy and Soda

Market Segment by Regions, regional analysis covers

·          North America (United States, Canada and Mexico)

·          Europe (Germany, France, UK, Russia and Italy)

·          Asia-Pacific (China, Japan, Korea, India and Southeast Asia)

·          South America (Brazil, Argentina, Colombia etc.)

·          Middle East and Africa (Saudi Arabia, UAE, Egypt, Nigeria and South Africa)

Market Segment by Type, covers

·          Drop-In Fountain Machines

·          Tower Fountain Machines

·          Other

Market Segment by Applications, can be divided into

·          Restaurant

·          Cinema

·          Other

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The content of the study subjects, includes a total of 15 chapters: Chapter 1, to describe Fountain Machines product scope, market overview, market opportunities, market driving force and market risks. Chapter 2, to profile the top manufacturers of Fountain Machines, with price, sales, revenue and global market share of Fountain Machines in 2017 and 2018. Chapter 3, the Fountain Machines competitive situation, sales, revenue and global market share of top manufacturers are analyzed emphatically by landscape contrast. Chapter 4, the Fountain Machines breakdown data are shown at the regional level, to show the sales, revenue and growth by regions, from 2014 to 2019. Chapter 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9, to break the sales data at the country level, with sales, revenue and market share for key countries in the world, from 2014 to 2019. Chapter 10 and 11, to segment the sales by type and application, with sales market share and growth rate by type, application, from 2014 to 2019. Chapter 12, Fountain Machines market forecast, by regions, type and application, with sales and revenue, from 2019 to 2024. Chapter 13, 14 and 15, to describe Fountain Machines sales channel, distributors, customers, research findings and conclusion, appendix and data source.

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Global Garden Equipment Market 2019 by Manufacturers, Regions, Type and Application, Forecast to 2024

Global Drinking Fountains Market by Manufacturers, Regions, Type and Application, Forecast to 2023

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[thejackal64]

Pillars of Magic: Paradox | Chapter 4: Within the Walls

Piano keys were being taped without fingers somewhere in the marketplace, along with the strings of a lute playing itself. The song was pleasant, like the first warming breeze of Spring kissing goodbye chilled Winter days. Some men and their ladies danced.

The music, the sounds of people buying and selling their wares, the clatter of silverware against plates from outdoor restaurants, the happily laughing women, all had been a comforting presence that surrounded Star in an embrace all its own every time she was able to travel to the square. But now, all of the to-do became a single merged unwanted din to her ears, and none of it at all as comforting as before. It was a cloud of chaos that she was intent on escaping as quickly as possible.

She rushed past a couple of other concubines, accidentally bumping into them and nearly tripping on her long shimmering gown.

Star stammered an incoherent 'So-orry!' not sparing them a glance. But with the jostle of the crowd, nobody heard much of anything and didn't take the time for pleasantries towards the people they knocked into. She kept her eyes forward, her feet run-jumping, as fast as they could carry her out to the front of the pavilion where a great marble fountain marked the place of transit.

The fountain was an entire story tall, with jets of water constantly surging out from the horns of a dozen floating stone-faced pony heads encircling around its base. The water danced with an array of colors; it shifted hues as it traveled through the air before diving back into the fountain, only to rain down like a multicolored waterfall into the holding pool below. It was a portrait of calm nestled within the chaos.

Cars hovered around the fountain as they speedily pulled up curbside to take on their passengers. Valets got out, still taking a brief moment to bow to their fares as they hurried inside the magical vehicles. Some of the vehicle doors opened up like the wings of eagles, while others slid up or away on invisible tracks.

Without pause Star waved down one of the drivers, jumping into the humming machine as soon as the door had opened wide enough to allow her to squeeze through.

"Where to, miss?" asked the surprised driver. "Reports are coming in of a monster in the pavillion?"

She barked like a thief that was trying to make a getaway from the scene of a crime.

"I don't know, just drive to anywhere, just not here!"

"Excuse me, my lady?"

The driver furrowed his brow, unsure that he'd been spoken to in the manner that he'd heard, and doubly unsure if the panic residing in the young woman's eyes was simply due to the lights from the aether-tech gauges reflecting therein, or if she truly was in need of some kind of assistance. He wasn't certain whatever was happening in the marketplace wasn't just a publicity stunt of over-hyped drama. He had been so startled from the speed at which he took on his new guest that he couldn't be sure if maybe he was seeing in her face, or hearing in her voice, things that weren't there.

He got into the vehicle and adjusted the mirror to better see his frazzled, but elegantly dressed, passenger, almost ignoring all others, or at least the notion of panic in the area.

"Uurm, that is," Star quickly worked to calm herself, giggling lightly back at his questioning stare, "…that is to say, anywhere away from all of this commotion!"

She exaggerated breathily, fanning her hand in front of her face for effect. She hoped, secretly, that she wouldn't actually pass out while she tried to relax her racing heart.

"It has made me dizzy, with all the lights and sounds."

"Ah, I understand, miss!"

The driver tipped his hat to her in the rearview mirror while his face once again took on a calm rosy exterior, his mind returned back to its ignorant cradle of worriless, wealthy Mewnian peace. He drove around-about the fountain and began to head away.

"A pretty lady like yourself needs to take a bit better care not to become overwhelmed. It is lovely though, isn't it, Mewni at night? It could easily make someone less accustomed to traveling faint just from the sight."

He had noticed her collar, and began to head towards the concubine district, presuming that the market square was all new to her, and that she'd been sorely out of her element.

"You like a water, miss?" he asked, pushing a button on his console before awaiting a response.

An armrest lowered itself next to her. The top portion of it drew back into itself, a small hidden platform elevating up a more than ample liter bottle of clear, cold water. Within the bottle was a single frost-glow orb, resembling a golf-ball-sized blue marble that constantly emitted an icy chill while wet, fading in and out with almost breathing neon light.

She shyly took hold of the glass bottle in her hand. It misted over her face and hands when she cracked the top open to drink. As she sipped the refreshing liquid, she realized just how much she truly was grateful for it, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow. The large bottle continued to spill a foggy vapor out the top even when she had stopped drinking.

"Thank you," she said.

The heartbeats in her ears finally began to slow down as her breath did the same, looking out the window and seeing that the night had indeed come on rather quickly. The marketplace was so far in the distance she felt she could let her nerves relax just a little.

But in the absence of adrenaline her thoughts began to take over, hissing sentences from the depths of her mind as if they slithered out from the mouths of the nameless people in the square, and all at once. They were demanding answers, shouting with countless fingers pointing her way, volleying doubts against her back while they clawed at her resolve.

How could you leave your caretakers that loved you so? Look at your fine dress, your collar, your headband. How could you ever leave your only friends behind? Willow's heart will break. Can you live with knowing they suffer in silence as you go free? Don't you know your place?

Worse still, she wasn't sure where her new place would be. Concubines had keepers or served in the pleasure palaces. It was wholly unacceptable in society for a concubine to live on their own.

The voices persisted: Why are you so selfish in thinking that there is a better life than what you had? What are you even good for?

She pushed through her reservations, through the newfound fear that was making her fingers tremble; they clutched the water bottle harder. Did she really deserve anything better or should she have just been thankful for what she had, especially since she would now lose everything she'd ever known?

She refused to go back. There was only forward, no matter the cost, or where it led.

It was all Star could do to keep her head against the limousine's window, trying not to allow the quiet rumble of it to allow those thoughts to enter in again. A slight line of light passed over her, waking her from her troubled reverie. The arc gate scanner had passed through the car, signaling their entry into the concubine district.

"Wait, driver? Can you take me to," she hesitated, leaning forward in her leathery seat; she knew she couldn't ask to be dropped off just anywhere, and especially not directly on the outskirts of Mewni; instead she offered, "erm, to uh, the industrial district?"

"The industrial district? Are you quite all right, miss? What would a pretty thing like you be doing down in the industrial district?"

"Oh, it's where my uh, client is I need to see."

The driver narrowed his lips, remaining quiet a while before tilting his head back to speak, without taking his eyes from the road.

"Forgive me, my lady, but you're not exactly dressed for being in that district, if I may be so bold to say."

Star knew he meant to say something regarding the lower classed workers not being able to afford a concubine of her caliber, but to his credit he did rephrase the question in a way that was palatable for the ears. She played the game.

"Well, this is a very special occasion for one of the factory owners. It's his retirement party."

"Ah, my apologies! Say no more," he said with a knowing wink.

Star had never even come close to descending into lower Mewni. She was used to being able to see the sky overhead, with its wispy clouds and occasional advertisements, the colorful array of birds that sang cheerfully in the gardens, and the lush planted trees and shrubs dutifully placed all around for decor. But as the driver drove she saw less and less of the sky, fewer instances of green and other bright colors. The open air and pretty sights of upper Mewni were slowly replaced, covered over by pillars and support structures, multiple bridges and stonework, all completely enveloping everything overhead.

The vehicle drove down the many sloping layers of Mewni that squeezed out natural light, heading deeper and deeper into the lower parts of it. As Star watched out her window she was confused and amazed at how different the worldview became, and how surrounded she was by architecture on all conceivable sides. The wealthy of Mewni simply built their world on top of the former, poorer structures, lower Mewni serving merely as the elite's groundwork, forgetting and ignoring the downtrodden, literally concealing them from sight.

They continued on for the better part of an hour until they arrived at the industrial district's arc gates. The vehicle hovered along the roadway which became less fancy of inlaid flagstone and instead more like cobblestone. The buildings in the district, even though roofed-over by other buildings and roadways above them, were far taller than any of the grand manors Star had been used to seeing, which said a lot. Even though the factories were meant for the inventing of future aether-tech, their lofty exteriors were spotlessly clean, like palaces that hadn't yet been adorned by splashes of color from an artist's brush. Their outsides were lit all around and gave off a very sterile, almost medical building vibe. Smokestacks coiled around the exteriors and rose upwards, disappearing into the city's framework beyond Star's visibility. Somewhere higher in upper Mewni they emerged, spewing various colorful plumes out that, during the daylight hours, would appear as if they were manufacturing rainbows.

When they had gone far enough down, Star signaled the driver to let her out in front of one of the factory buildings. She had chosen one that looked both a bit more regal, but which also had the least amount of people milling around. Luckily, even though the laborers worked at all hours, designing and developing twenty-four-seven, there were fewer workers around during the dinner hour.

At least she would have that as an advantage, she thought, as she got out of the vehicle and tipped the driver with the few pieces of silver she had left in her small handbag. As the vehicle hovered away she sighed at the emptiness in her purse, then started the long walk through the industrial district, keeping her head down and trying not to attract anyone's attention.

The industrial district was the last vestige of what would be considered proper Mewni. Wealthy Mewmans wanted as much separation between themselves as the poorer Mewmans, and the factory buildings served as a suitable buffer zone between those that could afford aether-tech, and those that could not. Going further was something inconceivable.

Quietly, she followed along roadways that crept ever downward.

Eventually the factories began to lessen in stature and number, the cobblestones giving way to flat grey cement, devoid of any character or warmth. The further Star traveled on its drab surface, the more pock-marked and fissured it seemed to get with lack of upkeep or care, and the more out of place she appeared among the changed landscape.

There wasn't a single road in the Mewni she was acquainted with that wasn't bathed in aether light; but in this strange subterranean Mewni, there was a shortage of streetlights and lights coming from the very buildings themselves. The sparkling gauges covering every surface were not present. Any light at all came from fogged windows from the insides of the buildings. Instead of fine marble and well-maintained clay, the buildings were crafted from bricks and mortar, left almost forgotten by time, covered with cracks and grime.

"So dark," Star whispered to herself. She wasn't used to nighttime not being lit up enough to compensate for daylight, especially in a place completely enclosed with buildings that didn't feel the touch of the sun. "Well, everything should look better by tomorrow," she hoped, finding comfort in her own thoughts as she slowly followed what little light she could see until it cast her shadow long behind her. The light steadily increased as she got closer, finally coming up to a gateway of a kind she'd never seen before. She could only guess which type of gates they were, presuming them to be aether-driven due to their incessant glow, with a hue like cherry blossoms.

The aether-gates were large expanses of humming, pinkish light that stretched like a rippling transparent barrier, as if water could be controlled and held in a wall-like vertical plane so thin you could see through to the other side, albeit murkily. The barriers were wide enough to allow the width of a car, like arc gates, but it wasn't simple light beams that scanned passengers going through. The forcefield was a solid plane of magical current preventing all physical entry unless the field itself was disabled by the guards.

She'd only heard whispers of their existence, which prevented lesser-classed Mewmans from passing into zones meant for higher-classed citizenry… by force. The rumor was that touching the forcefield beam meant instant debilitating shock which would render the victim unconscious, or worse. A solid wall was built high enough on either side that they were load-bearing to the many countless floors higher above. There was no way to get further below in Mewni except by aether-gate access.

Star stood there, transfixed by the swirling patterns reaching from one side of the gate to the other. It was a pretty light, and stood out as much as her attire compared to the drab, crumbling surroundings.

There was a guard posted at each end of the beam, and a panel inset on both metal pillars behind them that cast out their portion of the glowing aether-shield. It wasn't long before the pinkish barrier-light caught her gown and sent a dazzling display of sparkles into the dull eyes of the guards, stealing away their attention. They locked onto her, their chuckling words cut off mid-sentence. Confusion from both sides kept the silence in the air palpable for a lengthy minute, before one of the guards finally spoke.

"You there, miss!"

Star visibly shuddered from the shout, bracing for further word impact. She scrambled for thoughts on how to convince the guards to let her pass. To her dismay, the guard that had spoken softened his tone and ushered a hand wave for her to come forward.

"Come, come. Don't be shy."

Star didn't want to appear as if she had the backbone of a mouse, so she stiffened her spine and walked forward with intent. She made a conscious effort to keep her chin up and her footsteps purposeful, her eyelids not overly wide as if she would bolt at the first sign of her pan unraveling.

"Not often we see a beautiful woman like you in these parts," the guard said. "This gate will take you down into the Alleys. Is that where you're headed?

Star had never heard of the Alleys, but she acted like she'd been there countless times.

"Yes, of course."

"You have the Gate Allowance?"

At this she hesitated, looking to the other guard, who offered, "The Pink Slip," which didn't help her one bit towards acknowledging whatever it was they wanted. She looked through her empty purse for the imaginary pink slip that she was pretending should be within. Her fingers ruffled the bag's interior aimlessly while her mind sought for excuses, her heartbeat starting to put an edge on her nerves.

"Ehh, you have it?" the first guard asked, his eyes captivated more so on her chest and dress than the charade she was desperately attempting to pull off, looking through her bag.

"No, I'm sorry. I must have left it in my other bag. Could I still pass? After all," she quickly chuckled, "I wouldn't want to be here if I didn't have a reason."

"I dare say not!" the guard laughed. "But, even so, if you got business down there, I need some sort of ID."

She fumbled and stopped looking through her purse, turning her eyes up to him.

"I don't really have anything other than the pink slip… it had everything on it I needed." She looked down, fluttering her eyelashes and sighing as if she might cry. "But it took a while to get down here. Don't make me go back all that way back just for the slip. I have business I have to do and will get in trouble if I don't get it done."

The second guard shook his head. "We can't let you pass without it. I would, and he would, but it's our jobs on the line, sorry."

Star looked past the guards at the control panels behind them. There was no way for her to run behind one guard, hit whatever button it was to remove the forcefield, and then get through. The button had to be pushed at each panel at the same time, by each guard.

"I insist you let me through. If not, perhaps your jobs will be more at stake than you realize."

She felt her nerves gather up like a cat on the hunt, all pretense towards acting pitiful dropped, as she debated such dodgy actions. She realized it would be foolhardy to try, but was prepared for a last ditch effort. She took a few bold steps towards the aether-field.

"Hold on, there." The first guard stepped away from the panel.

Her eyes took note of the gap, the opportunity she could capitalize on.

Slowly, the guard reached out towards her. Her first reaction was to shy away, but she didn't, still putting on the front that she was supposed to be there and not illicitly trying to get into lower Mewni.

His crusted, fingernailed hand brushed the hair aside from her white neck, meaty fingers tracing along the collar.

"Who sent you down here?"

"My caretakers; who else?" she replied, matter-of-factly, gauging the distance between the guard and the panel, and the secondary guard and his panel across the way. Her stance widened ever so slightly.

"And who might they be, miss?"

The first guard's eyelids rose, his hand stopping in a shocked fashion as his eyes saw the engraved seal on the fine collar which belonged to Aage and Aagil. He quickly stepped back towards the panel.

Star's heart sank as she saw the window of escape closing, but the guard hit three buttons on his control panel, giving a hand signal to the other who, after a hesitant pause, did the same.

All at once the glowing barrier sucked back into itself on both sides, leaving the way open to her.

"Sorry about that, miss, but I have orders. You understand."

Star blinked, uncertain what had just occurred, while her feet carried her numbly forward. It took her a moment but she said, "Thank you," as if the exchange she'd just had never carried with it the least bit of concern to her.

The second guard walked over to the first to discuss what that all was about. There was a questioning look on his face as he immediately pulled a small monitor and keypad device from his pocket and finger-punched a bunch of buttons.

"Wait a second," he said.

But Star didn't wait, pretending not to have heard them. She scanned the area for where to go next, and quickly. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and the guards as possible before they realized anything was amiss. She took as many turns around bends she could, easily losing her own sense of direction as she sought mainly to get away.

The second guard had pulled up an image of Star. In moments, they sprang into action.

When Star thought it was safe to slow her pace and regain her breath, she heard the thunder of a pair of heavily boot-clad feet pounding towards her direction. The guards were yelling for her to stop.

She did the opposite, taking a deep breath and pushing her legs harder.

"We found her," one of the guards was yelling into a communication device on his wrist. "She's heading to the lower jurisdictions!"

The place she was in was hardly enough of a labyrinth, but finally she came across a single door without a handle, a grubby light fixture alighting it in a hazy glow as if it was a focal point of the area. There didn't appear to be any other place to go. Even the walls seemed to funnel her towards it.

The door automatically slid back into the wall to give her entrance, a ping sound buzzing dolefully in her ears. It was a type of elevator, she knew, but this one was walled in on all sides and only had one direction to choose from – down. There weren't even floors to select. The type she was used to would hover to their destinations, enclosed by sheer panes of glass you could see through on all sides, and were not limited directionally; and as she stepped into the belly of the box awaiting her, with no other choice, the claustrophobic atmosphere creeped over her shoulders like a cape of foreboding gloom.

She saw the two guards down the wide hall. They caught sight of her the same moment as she did them. They stormed forward, but couldn't cover the distance fast enough before the elevator door slid closed.

The interior was greasy, every surface covered in an unknown stain from an unknown source, each splotch competing against the other for maximum coverage as they crawled up the walls. The floor was metal and long since scraped to a perpetually dirty state, caked in sticky grime. The slight rank of ammonia also filled Star's nostrils while the single green light inside flickered like a dying lightning bug.

The box lurched her downward fast on creaking cords, her stomach keenly feeling the effects of the janky travel. Thankfully though, the ride wasn't long. She was grateful, for fear at any moment the box holding her would come to a screaming halt due to the guard above hitting any switches to trap her inside, but it never occured. It bounced a couple times, as if deciding whether to continue, or perhaps to return back upwards, and it made her stomach sea-sick.

Then the box hit the ground like a giant falling on its rear.

The doors opened after what felt like an eternity. Star practically jumped out of it and into the open.

Even the air was different in lower Mewni. It wasn't crisp and clean but almost had a taste to it Star couldn't quite identify. It was like oil mixed with dirt. She could practically feel it adding another layer onto her bare skin.

Unlike the last place she'd been, this was an area full of decrepit buildings and streets she could easily get lost in.

The few cars there were no longer hovered but drove on tires that touched the ground; and they didn't have steering wheels, two long stick-levers with handles replacing them. Smoke and steam billowed out from pipes as they drove by, making her cough when she accidentally inhaled it. She almost didn't recognize that they were cars at all, so different they were in appearance to the sleek, flawless elegance of the limousines she was used to. They were haggard, broken down sheet metal things held together with gears, rivets, and possibly even prayers to the Great Stump.

There were only a few people around, but they were enough to raise the hairs along the back of her neck whenever she met eyes with them. Their faces seemed always to have a smear of dust while their bodies were noticeably gaunt, so scrawny and thin they couldn't possibly be eating three meals a day.

And the way they dressed, if she even considered it 'dress,' was nothing like she had ever seen before. Men and women tended to wear fingerless, knitted gloves with loose threads poking out every which way, while their shirts and coats were so age-worn she wondered if they were the only coats they had ever owned in their lives. Shoes were not polished but were scuffed, dresses were ruffled but tattered and patched, no stocking had a lack of ladder-like runs, and their hair was unkempt as if a perpetual wind had blown them out of place, or perhaps they didn't even have combs.

Star had heard rumors that the poorer Mewmans didn't have aether-tech, but she never believed such wild stories. How anyone could live without it, her brain couldn't even fathom. Yet, she saw only gearworks and pipes, steam-powered locomotives and devices she couldn't put any sort of name on. Nothing at all glowed of magic.

"Not all technology has to be magic. I can do without… I think."

While she walked aimlessly, spinning around as if a visitor in a foreign land, or perhaps even another dimension, out from the alleyways crept a few gloomy figures. The evening had drawn on and even though Star wasn't immediately aware of it, the streets had emptied of the few citizens that had been milling around, leaving her quite unattended.

The shadows watched Star like a pack of wolves, sizing her up as they would their prey. The dress she wore caught their fancy first, its glistening sapphire drawing their eyes like hypnotized moths to flame. There were no bright colors in the lower part of Mewni, since it was covered in neutral, cheerless tones, typically spattered in soot. The flash of blue made her garment stand out as if she were the only color against a backdrop of blackened coal. From her glittery headband down to her shining shoes, she was untarnished even from walking along the dirty pavement. Her skin hadn't a stain, and the collar around her neck was a flawless red gem, making them lick their lips with greed.

Star didn't pick up on the fact that she was being followed right away. The sights distracted her, each glance this way or that bringing her even more insight into the abysmal, claustrophobic world that poorer Mewmans were forced to live in. It appalled her to the core with each passing second she took it all in, her nose wrinkling from the dust in the air. So much of the stories she had heard through haughty whispers had turned out to be true after all. Seeing it come to life, she wished it weren't so.

Along a row of tightly packed buildings, while she peeked into some windows so caked-up she couldn't even see through, she thought she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Something, or someone, had darted back around a corner. There wasn't enough light anywhere for her to see by, so she wasn't completely sure if she'd actually seen something or not. Too much of this Mewni was covered in darkness.

"It's all right, Star," she whispered to herself. "This is fine. Your mind is just playing tricks on you. Not used to all this dark is all."

Star had never known true nightfall. She only knew a Mewni bathed in so much light that night was relatively equal to the day. She hadn't known that darkness could have its own ominous feeling to it either, except maybe in bad dreams or somewhere in her distant memories. But where she tread now, even the darkness seemed to have a skittering life of its own, and she didn't enjoy feeling the crawling threat of it simply due to a phenomenal lack of lights.

She knew she needed to find some place to stay for the night. Some place safe.

Her shoes clicked against the cement as she carried on with a bit more speed in her step. They almost echoed against the squished-together buildings, the streets were so narrow and vacant; that, or another pair of footsteps mimicked her own, she couldn't tell.

"I can do this. No biggie, just dark, and I'm not afraid of the dark. I can do this, chin up…"

One building crushed right up against another, leaving very little space anywhere between. They all looked fairly the same, save one in particular that stood out from the rest, tucked in-between two ramshackle houses. She couldn't tell if it was a business or a house, since there didn't appear to be any district separations to keep the two zones apart, but it was larger than the others, and more well lit inside.

The structure had two stories of multiple windows along the sides, glowing a warm amber in the evening, full of fine reddish drapes with black fringe. It even had small white pillars out front and a modest matching staircase, leading up to wooden double doors more well kept than the rest of the building. It was the most welcoming thing Star had seen yet and she headed its way. If nothing else it was familiar, in a stylish kind of way.

"You look a might bit lost."

Star visibly jumped from the voice that sidled up suddenly behind her. She whirled around to see a woman of maybe twice her age, but whose face was as lean as all the rest, the wrinkles of stress and poor diet adding more years other than were true. Her dirty-blond hair was covered in a threadbare shawl, hooding over it to keep it in place.

"Uhm, well, I am a bit new around here," Star admitted.

"A bit new indeed," the woman replied between a few chipped teeth.

Star wasn't sure of the scrutinizing look on the woman's face, but the way in which she repeated her own words set her more on edge than before.

"Yeah, getting a little late so I'm just looking for a place to sleep for the night."

"Ahh, looking for a place…"

The woman squinted and looked her over as if studying a machine to find out what makes it tick, enjoying the exterior of it all the while. Her eyes seemed to flit between Star's dress and her collar, requiring a force of will to meet eyes with Star's own.

"You're not a girl from these parts."

It was a statement, and spoken with a gleeful jeer. Star wanted nothing more than to get to the building.

"Just visiting, yep. Taking in the sights, and it's getting late sooo..."

"You're from up there, aren't you," the woman continued to speak, not a hint of question in her voice. "You're a long way from home, lass. Someone surely is missing you… someone who would be willing to pay dearly to get you back."

Star didn't know where to turn. She took a few steps backward, excusing herself with a nervous chuckle. "I'm sorry, it was nice to meet you but I'm very tired and I really have to be going."

"And so nice to meet you too!" she whined menacingly as she kept pace with Star, edging forward. "Say, you said you wanted to find a place to stay for the night, yes? I can help with that bit. Why not come with me? I have a right nice place for you."

"Thanks, but actually I'm heading over to…"

"To where, my finely dressed lady? Wouldn't want anyone to hurt you out here. That trinket around your neck must be worth more than most people's homes out in these parts. Such a thing could feed a family for weeks! Shame to see it stolen… shame!"

Star's feet backed up more quickly, despite her trying to maintain her composure.

"Sorry, I have to go!"

"Oh lassie, there's really no hurry. Come with me, I insist!"

Star backed up to the end of the walkway curb. When she stepped into the street, a pair of feet thunked heavily out from the shadows to cut hers off. Her back slammed into the chest of a large someone that was twice her height and almost as hard as a wall. The burly gentleman shed backed into latched onto her shoulders with two huge weighty palms.

"What should I do with her?" he grumbled dumbly.

"You take her with us, obviously, you dolt!" Her voice became shrill and high-pitched. It was grating, and it stung the ears when she yelled. But in the same breath she dropped her tone in a sickening fashion, crooning towards Star.

"Oooh, this necklace of yours."

Her cold fingers began touching the collar, working to find a clasp to undo it. They curled uselessly around the exquisite silver edges, trying to yank it off.

"Stop!" Star resisted, feeling the nails scratching hard into her neck as they tried to loop around the band. "It-It doesn't come off! It belongs to me!"

"It belongs to us now, so let us have it! Now, lass!"

The woman didn't interpret the meaning of the collar 'belonging' to its owner, and there was no use trying to explain as the two hands gripped harder in Star's shoulders, broken fingernails digging into her dress to hold her still.

"Watch it! Don't damage the goods!" the woman yelled. "That dress'll fetch us a good price too!"

She snatched the small handbag attached to Star's wrist, opening it and creasing her brow at the emptiness found within.

"What's this, nothing here?"

"Give that back!" Star yelled, and loudly, the sensation of being captured by Aagil still a fresh memory in her mind. Again she felt a heat rising in her face; but she remembered her reflection in the mirror, didn't want to tap into the part of herself she had experienced before, but her limbs began to quake.

"Time for you upper class to give back a little I'd say, girl," she said without concern for Star's force of words.

"Let me go!"

She elbowed the overhanging gut of the man holding her and jammed her heel deep into one of his grubby boots.

The man roared, his palms releasing as he hopped off his injured foot. Star saw her opening, this time making a break for it without hesitation, though her graceful shoes were not made for running.

"After her! Don't let her get away!"

The woman was surprisingly spry for being such a scrawny figure. As she shouted, she bounded after Star, managing to grab a fast hold of her wrist before she could get even three yards away. Star tried to break her bony grasp, but her hulking sidekick recovered quickly, his leg lashing out to trip her from behind. She was sent hard into the concrete, allowing the woman to regain a hold on her.

"Nice try, little princess!"

The word 'princess' gave Star pause. It was another moment when something deeper within herself was triggered, only she had no idea why or for what purpose. Somehow, even though the witch-like face had spoken it with spitting malice, it sounded right to her ears, as if it was originally part of her name.

She was literally shaken from her thoughts, a set of fingers yanking her up by her hair until her shoes barely touched the ground. A cry of pain burst from her lips, having never felt something so harshly done to her before. She didn't know if sections of hair were being pulled from her skull, but it felt likely they were. And for the first time since she could remember, she was hurt, and in several places, the skin of her knees and elbows grazed and bleeding.

The female grabbed the sparkling headband as it slipped down her face.

"Pretty, so pretty," she murmured, transfixed by the beautiful thing in her hands.

"Let me go!"

The henchman held the squirming Star out far from his body as fright flooded her senses. She flailed uselessly around, grunting and trying to kick any part of anyone she could connect with, all the while trying to free her hair with her hands. The thick-chested thug was simply too strong a force, his fist like the jaws of a clamped crocodile. She wasn't used to feeling agonizing pain and she didn't know what else they would do to her. The glaring image of Ginger's lacerations flashed across her mind.

"URGHH! Release me!" Her voice gave way to desperation.

With the opportunity at hand, the woman snatched hold of her thrashing feet. She clenched them tightly under an arm and wrenched both shoes clear off their now-ripped stockings.

"You won't be runnin' away again, lass!"

"What're you going to do with me!? You dregs!"

The woman sneered, then back-handed Star across her mouth.

"You'll be our um, guest, until some of the uppers come looking for you. I'm sure their pocketbook will hold more than yours!"

She tucked the headband with the shoes covetously against her chest and barked at her cohort. "Now let's get out of here before someone hears her crying and tries to steal our prize!"

Two bright beams of light cut through the blackness around the group. With a grunt of sound, the man holding Star stiffened, his pupils becoming tiny pinpricks against it. The woman instinctually tried to hide the stolen goods behind her back. Star continued to dangle, partially dazed, unable to see past the light freezing them all to the street nor the dots of sparkles still littering her view from being struck.

A calm voice reverberated around them, sounding amplified somehow, and larger than life.

"Release the girl and put your hands in the air."

The next thing she knew, Star was dropped to the ground, the pavement coming up to meet her like a second filthy slap to the face. The man didn't need to be told twice.

The woman shouted, "Run, you nitwit!" already running away. "If the police catch you, I'm not coming back to save you!"

The man took off in the opposite direction as fast as his feet would carry him.

Star reached a hand up to shield her eyes from the floodlights. Suddenly a siren sounded. She saw colors of red and blue flashing all around. The twin beams grew larger as the growling sound of an engine increased with intensity and speed. Whatever vehicle it was accelerated towards her as if to mow her down.

She wouldn't have been able to roll out of the way fast enough if she tried, but the machine drifted sideways just as it reached her sprawled form, forcibly stopping. The lights no longer blinded her but the maneuver kicked up a cloud of street debris, and the exhaust fumes made her gag.

Her attackers had fled.

Mercifully, the driver shut down the blaring siren. She could only hear the softer rumble of the engine issuing out from the many pipes along the undercarriage. She knew it was some form of law enforcement car, but it wasn't anything she'd seen before. The front of it had only one large rubberized wheel while four smaller gear-like wheels in the rear were covered in thick metal treads, a pair on either side of a window-less carriage.

Her eyes adjusted slowly as the figure from the vehicle opened the squad car's door. Star saw his shoes first as they stepped out onto the ground. They weren't scraped-up like all the others in this downtrodden version of Mewni, but highly polished and looking new. He was tall and slender, but not from lack of eating, and his skin was a pale grey-green. Atop his head rested perfectly brushed, slick black hair that ran down to his shoulders.

His tail shut the door behind him.

Her eyes went immediately to his butter yellow spheres as the man knelt down beside her, extending a hand.

"My lady, are you all right?"

"I…"

It was her nature to take an outstretched hand, so she placed hers into his, allowing him to pull her up. At first she thought he had only three fingers but, when she did a double-take, saw that he had all four.

"I-I think so."

"I am officer Toffee," he said gently. "And you are? Hmm… not from around here, I see."

Star smoothed her dress with her hands and tried to straighten her abused hair. She still felt the pain of the pull throbbing against her scalp. She grabbed one of her sore elbows with a hand and embarrassingly looked down over her tousled clothes.

"I'm Star."

As she absently swept her long hair away from her neck, no longer having a headband to keep it held back in place, Toffee's eyebrows raised in surprise. The red heart gem of the collar reflected in his widening eyes like a mirror. He was momentarily held captive by it like so many before him. The finery that Star wore made him realize exactly where she had come from, and what she was.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Star," he said pleasantly. "This is no place for a lady such as yourself. Please, let me take you back to the station so we can write up a report."

"I don't really want to cause any trouble. I can just… uhm, be on my way."

"Nonsense. No trouble at all for you, my lady. Those derelicts accosted you, and did they likewise steal your things?" His eyes had already taken her all in, and she caught them glancing down at her feet. "I presume you didn't walk all the way from home without shoes?"

"Well I… no."

He cocked an eyebrow, a smile disarmingly gracing his long face as he guided her towards his vehicle.

"Come. You will be safe at the station. At least we can tend to your injuries. I'll get you something warm to drink, something for your feet, and after we file the report you can be on your way, if that is your wish."

Star had become confused with knowing what exactly her wish was, not having planned very much past getting away from the manor and every aspect of the Mewni she knew. She wasn't used to making her own decisions. But, Toffee's suave demeanor and soft spoken words soothed her like a warm blanket, easily sliding her worries away and leaving her feeling comfortably sheltered. His uniform was well tailored, and his badge glistened with authority.

She was still in shock from the mugging, not thinking her clearest, or even caring, past the desire to get safe. She found herself allowing the Officer to lead her into his car.

He opened the door for her and held her hand to assist her in, giving a gracious bow like a valet.

"My lady."

Star had to almost climb into the vehicle, so lifted off the ground it was by the treaded wheels of the rear. She sat in the passenger seat besides Toffee as if she were his partner, the back part of the squad separated by thick plexiglass and iron-barred windows. She noted there was room enough in the back to seat up to four people sitting across from each other. Shackle-like devices hung from the sidewalls at the ready, attached to the interior frame.

"Those are called handcuffs. I know you've probably never seen them where you're from, although they have something similar… stronger of course. Don't worry, you're up here with me, not back there with them."

She gave a small chuckle.

The corners of Toffee's lips turned upwards into a smile, murmuring a small laugh. His eyelids just partially lowered over his eyes, giving him a charming countenance.

He slid into the driver seat and closed the door, immediately pulling two of the many levers inside with his hands. The long metal bars went down into the floor and connected with the frame and engine out of sight. The vehicle spun as if in place, making a zero-turn in the street.

Star watched out her window as the one building she had been heading towards was quickly fading into the distant night and getting lost among all of the other ones crowding in around it.

For a while, the pair was quiet. Star began to feel her bruises pulse as she sat back against the seat. A light fog of steam from a pipe exiting the vehicle's hood started to puff against her windowpane, the droplets picking up the outer coating of grunge along the car's surface and running down like grey rivers against the glass. Star's mind drifted as she watched the beads.

When she looked over at Toffee she saw in him, and in his impeccably-kept outfit, someone she felt she knew.

"You have been to, uhm, where I'm from?" she asked, as shyly as a child asking a question she feared might cause unease.

Without turning his head, Toffee's eyes drifted to Star then back on the road.

"Yes, I used to serve as a… factory worker."

"Oh," she whispered. She knew none of the working class personally, and there was no way she'd have ever been in contact with them.

Again Toffee took a quick glance at her. He thought to keep the questions one-sided.

"Yes, I left, same as you I presume? If that is what you intended to ask next."

"No-no-nooo, I just thought maybe you were someone I ran in to at some point. I don't mean to be nosey."

"Someone as ravishing as you, my dear Star, I would have certainly remembered, and I would have made sure you'd remember me."

A rosy color filled her cheeks. The air was subdued between them, but not awkwardly so. He went on speaking, his words becoming lighter, more reassuring.

"Star, may I ask why you decided to leave?"

"I just…" she trailed off, looking down and seeing that her fingers had gathered the folds of her dress in involuntary fists. She opened her hands quickly, letting go of the fabric. "I just didn't like…"

"It's all right. If it troubles you, you need not say."

The desire to speak her mind to someone rose like a small fire within herself.

"No, it's ok. I just thought I could be… meant for better things?"

"You feel like you didn't matter there. The people you lived with saw you as nothing more than property."

She found that when he'd given her space, she couldn't stem the surge of words that wanted to stream from her mouth, and wasn't entirely sure of everything that came out once it started. His question-like statements fed the growing fire of emotion within her like tinder, and once started, the blaze had to burn.

"They loved me. They said they loved me. But they acted the complete opposite. I had a good life and I loved them, like if they were my parents, I mean. But… they only saw what they wanted to see in me. I was their doll to dress up, and I allowed it. They did things to me I didn't want, and I allowed that too. They kept wanting more and more until I felt like nothing at all but a thing. Don't I have a say? Am I wrong to want my own say? Can't I say 'no' to being just… just a…"

"Slave?"

"A plaything."

Toffee raised an eyebrow on the side not facing Star, noting her side-step of his bold word, and how she downgraded it into something she could more easily swallow. He listened, fascinated with the strange woman seated next to him that gave him an awkward vibe. Her pitch became louder and broken with tiny sequels at the peaks.

"They only saw what's on the outside. That's all that mattered; not how I felt inside, only what I offered and what I could give, or they could take! I ran away and don't even know if I did the right thing. I left everything I knew behind… my only family and my friends. I don't know where to go. I don't know what I even want because I've only ever given others what THEY wanted. I don't even know myself."

Her chin dropped as she turned back towards the window, shielding her face from his by the barrier of her golden hair, preventing him from seeing the tiny tear that escaped down her face.

"What if I was wrong?" she sniffed quietly, watching the steam drops dance against the window.

Toffee could sense the mild sobbing and sought to rebuild her prior confidence.

"I have only known you a few minutes and already can tell that you're remarkable. Your leaving was no mistake at all. They didn't appreciate you, Star, and that was their mistake." He handed her a handkerchief from one of his many vest pockets. It was embroidered with a lower Mewman symbol for the letter 'T'. He held it out for her and waited until she took it, to dab at her eyes before continuing.

"You know, it takes bravery to break away from everything and take control of your own life. So few have the strength to be anything but a follower. Oh they all say they want to be individuals and stand up for themselves, but in the end most of them just cower like sheep. You're not alone in wanting to find your own way outside the flock."

"There are others like me?"

He spoke more slowly, carefully choosing his words.

"Well, not quite of the same class as you, but a few, yes, that have escaped over the years and come to this place to start over in obscurity. Look at me. I am an officer now, not some worker in an aether-tech factory known only by a number, building the toys that only the wealthy can enjoy. I think you'll find this part of Mewni to be a good place to disappear."

"And remake myself, you're right! Like, a caterpillar transforming into a butterfly!"

"Yes well, one step at a time, Star."

The officer gave her a light smile and returned his focus to the road. Star was uplifted by the support of his words, and even though it was dark and bleak outside, the lights of the vehicle skimming over lower Mewni and making random alley rats scatter, she had a more positive feeling than before.

Star was staring out the window. While her eyes had been seeing the word going by, she only briefly took it in, her eyes staring blankly as the world went by. She allowed her thoughts to take precedence over her vision, wondering what the next day would bring and how she'd get started in this underworld of new experiences. Then, Officer Toffee shook her back into the moment.

"Would you care for a snack or drink?"

"Uhm… sure," she said.

He reached over to her side of the car and tapped the dash. He did it twice, as the dash didn't immediately respond, unlike the luxury vehicles with their holographic screens and buttons you'd tap in the air. He simply tapped the dash itself. With a slight grunt of annoyance, he nudged the part of the dash that opened but not all the way.

There was a compartment within the dash that held a few odds and ends of police business paperwork and set over them was some kind of wrapped candy bar and a very small bottle of water. It did not have an ice orb in it and didn't particularly look appetizing, and she wasn't really peckish, but she didn't want to seem ungrateful. She thanked the officer and took the candy, slowly unwrapping the shiny paper from the chocolaty insides.

"Mmm, thank you," she said while swallowing. "What is this?"

"That? That is a Snookers bar. It's the great equalizer… sold to all classes in Mewni."

"It's pretty good."

As she took small nibbles of the candy she realized how thirsty it was making her, and decided to go ahead and take the offered water as well. Officer Toffee nodded his approval while his hands turned the levers. Outside the window the world all looked the same despite being new to Star. It almost seemed as if they were driving in circles.

She had become dizzy. And tired. Her arms felt difficult to raise. She was having trouble keeping her eyes open. It had come upon her so quickly it brought along with it a sense of dread. Something was wrong.

She looked over at Officer Toffee, who had a tiny smirk playing in the corners of his lips, looking at her from the sideways glance of his eyes. She thought she heard him chuckle, but maybe she imagined it, or saw something not there. Her eyes were blinking more than usual, her head lolling slightly when she turned away.

Her head and eyelids became heavy like her arms. The anxious fear that had taken hold was like a dull background pulse that wasn't fully connected to her body. It was there, crying out to her every sinew to make her move, but she couldn't muster the energy. Sleep felt inevitable, the fight too great.

Finally her resistance drained. It was impossible not to shut the lids that wanted to seal her eyes and the world around her away.

When Star's eyes fluttered open, as the sleepy haze wore off, the strong scent of something itched inside her nostrils. It had tickled her out of the blackness of false slumber.

A heavy blanket had been draped around her shoulders. She had been nestled into it, and was no longer in a moving vehicle but a wooden chair. The fabric was almost comforting, were it not for the fact that she immediately found her arms and wrists held down by thick leather straps.

She awoke relatively quickly, the dulled fear she recalled having only minutes prior surging back into her veins like a spirit retaking its body.

"Ah, wonderful to see you awake."

It didn't take her semi-glazed eyes long to find Toffee. He stood before her, a pleased expression painting his maw. In one hand he had been holding some kind of small stick that was broken in half. She could smell the intense spice of it until he clasped his hands behind his back along with it.

"Before you decide to panic, let me make you aware of a couple points, shall I?" he asked, but continued on without waiting for her answer. "You're safely tucked away beneath the police station. No, you're not in the jail, nor are you under arrest, but you're in my… custody. As long as you cooperate, perhaps we can come to certain agreements."

"I-I thought you wanted to take a report," she muttered, trying to maintain her composure.

"You're right, Star."

Toffee spun on a heel and walked to the desk directly across from her. He sat briskly and immediately began to prick at a strange keypad device before him while looking at a glowing screen. His eyes skipped from the computer monitor to her, then back again, as his reptilian fingers danced across the Low Mewman letters. He seemed to delight in Star's amicable reaction to her capture.

Star didn't pay as much attention to his glances, unaware that his eyes often fixated on the collar about her throat. Her own eyes kept staring at the only thing in the room besides the table: the strange computer gadget lying on top, box-like and full of gears and small mechanical lights. On its front was a flat console screen, and in front of that was a touchable keyboard. There were computers where she was from but they looked so drastically different that Star almost felt like she had entered another time. Mewnian computers didn't require screens, displaying the images within the air from a console. One would touch the airborne symbols rather than physical keys on a board, like the difference between the fancy limousines and Toffee's dashboard.

Toffee was apparently recounting the evening while Star sat watching the interlocking gears turn, hearing the very faint murmur of a motor buried somewhere within that kept the computer alive. Within herself, her adrenaline was choking her throat, but she decided not to try her bonds or appear too stricken by her situation, trying to play along.

"So, you do this for all of your rescuees?"

"I beg your pardon?" he said, still distracted with the paperwork.

"You bring them here and make them comfortable, tying them to a chair?"

"No, it's not standard procedure, and a bit regrettable. I'm pleased to see you're taking it well."

She tilted her head to the side and gave a snarky attitude.

"I try to go with the flow."

"A wise decision."

There was the clacking of more typing as Star stared down Toffee. Without turning her eyes away she casually glanced about the room to get a look at the place. It wasn't filled with many objects besides cabinets and tables, mostly sterile, and not just in scant furnishings. The room was immaculately clean from floor to ceiling and painted white. It seemed medical in nature, and gave her an all new rush of fear when her eyes saw a metal tray with several needle-like apparatuses and tubes placed on it.

She broke the silence as much to keep herself calm as to find out more about Toffee.

"Why did you rescue me?"

"I am an officer. It's my job to stop the criminal element. I only allowed those two to run because taking care of you was my first priority. They are petty, short-sighted criminals and won't be on the loose for long when I get on their case."

"Uhm… that's not quite what I meant."

"You are asking why I rescued you and then brought you here, only to tie you up, I know."

The computer was making an annoying whirring noise, filling the stagnant air as his statement lingered within it, unnecessarily long.

In truth, he would have preferred not to have begun with her being restrained, but he'd sensed in her something different. Whatever it was gave him an uneasiness he wasn't accustomed to. He was not a man to let precautions slide.

He cleared his throat, looking up from his work.

"I also know you're used to a life of extravagance. It's a sheltered and entitled life. Your handlers kept you naïve to many things. But it's no wonder. Only the most prized concubines are dressed as you are and wear such a fine 'feature' about their necks. It's hard for you to understand how the real world works because you've never known otherwise."

Her blue eyes went wide with shock.

"Y-you knew all along?"

"I used to serve the wealthy elite, after all."

"As just a factory worker, you said."

"Yes, well," he brushed it quickly aside, "Regardless, I am well aware of those collars and the station one such as yours represents."

She pictured the magically sealed, smooth surface of the crimson heart that she often blindly toyed with. She'd made a motion as if you reach up and touch it, forgetting that she was prevented from so doing. It was so much a part of her that his continual staring at it made her feel exposed. She re-adjusted her legs as one of her bound hands fingered the blanket draping down off her shoulders.

"You said we all can make a new life for ourselves. I don't have to be what this collar says I am, and I don't plan on it."

"You were a slave before. Now, you're free."

She stretched her neck in an overstated manner to look at her still leather-strapped arms. "As free as free can be."

"And," he snorted a mild laugh as he smoothed back his hair, "if you'd like to remain that way, I can be of great service to you. Conversely, if you decide on the wrong choice…"

He stood and, rather casually, walked to the front of the table just inches away from her. He leaned against it, looking down into her eyes as she sat with bated breath. She had pulled her feet up off the floor and was sitting with them tucked up beside herself, wrapped in the blanket. Without shoes, her stockings did little against the cold of the concrete.

Toffee raised an eyebrow as he gradually maneuvered his tail. It slithered up underneath the blanket and against Star's legs. He could feel them shiver at his scaly touch.

Star felt the tail creep along, the tip of it tracing along the crease of her pressed legs like a finger trying to make its way northward. She remembered Aagil leisurely trying to train her, as if the pace at which the unwanted touch came had anything to do with her acceptance of it.

The flexible green limb didn't stop until it slithered its way over her arms, teased at her throat, and the end of it caressed at her cheek.

Her body stiffened, revolted, drawing away from Toffee while clutching the blanket. She averted her eyes sharply; that's when she caught from the corner of her eye something sparkle off Toffee's belt. He had several keys.

She yelled, trying not to look at the keys, as if Toffee would follow her gaze. "If you think I'm going to become YOUR concubine, you're making a big mistake!"

His calm demeanor belied his hidden desires, having fun with her fears. He didn't even bother to hide the smirk that crossed his lips. Swathed in the blanket Star appeared so frail, and yet was more beautiful than any female he had laid eyes on in quite a long while.

"I left because I didn't want the same path I had before! If I have to fight you like I had my caretakers, I will! I'm not about to let you-"

"Yes, you certainly will," interrupted Toffee, using his tail like an extra hand, tilting her head to both sides before pulling it back. "I can almost see the fire in you! Your bloodline hasn't completely lost it. Excellent."

She squinted slightly, confusion stopping her tongue from flying out further defensive statements. "What?"

"I am sure once we get better acquainted, you'll change your mind, in time, and see that my plans can mutually benefit us both."

"I don't plan to be here long enough to get better acquainted, so you better be the one to change your mind. Let me go, before I'm forced to hurt you too."

He chuckled as he cocked his head, reclining against his hands gripping the table's edge behind him. He continued with a tender, yet patronizing, tone.

"Forced to? Oooh my, you are quite the catch. But, why don't we take a step back and have a realistic chat, hmm?"

"Maybe we could have… if you didn't drug me and tie me to a chair."

"Relax. You certainly are stunning, but If I'd wanted to have my way with you, I'd not have woken you up with the smelling salts."

He acted as if he hadn't heard her sarcasm, reaching over his desk and proceeding to hit a couple of keys on the keypad. Then, he turned the screen to face her. Over the flat surface she could see images of Aage and Aagil, information written in higher Mewman, and an image of herself, and the collar.

"They are offering an obscene reward for your return, Star. I don't need to tell you that the sum would be utterly life-changing for anyone this side of Mewni. But as an officer, I am even more so obligated to bring you in."

"But you won't… right?" She tried to appeal to his sense of camaraderie. "I mean, you and I share escaping lives we didn't want. We wanted the same thing."

Toffee took a very deep breath. "I was free to leave any time. I wasn't anyone's property. A worker goes missing, there are plenty more to fill the gap. You, however, can't just disappear. That collar can't be removed except by your keepers, and so you'll forever stand out down here. You need my level of protection. I brought you here to protect you."

Star hovered between fear and hope, her eyes quivering from not blinking as she watched Toffee's expressionless face, unable to read it.

"But… you won't take me back?"

"I could be persuaded to break the rules on your behalf…"

"…If?"

"You disappoint me," he grinned with a sardonic smile. "You should know I'm not exactly a fan of the upper crust, having left there myself. Of course I sympathize with your plight."

"Then, if you don't want a concubine, why are you keeping me here?"

"You are from the uppermost city. You're one of the few Mewmans that's permitted to see the sky."

The sound of Toffee's thinly disguised resentment began to soak through his words, feeling like an obvious warning to her ears.

"As such, that makes you of particular interest to me. You see, my dear, the most privileged Mewmans have a particular lineage. They have done their best to keep the classes apart for many reasons, not all of which is political. Those criminals that mugged you saw value in keeping you alive not out of kindness, but because a kidnapping meant the potential for more money. Others might have killed you on the spot and just stolen your things, or tried to sell you."

"And you're different because…?"

Toffee's voice was low, almost barely audible, his eyes squarely resting on Star. "We all have our hungers, but my eyes are not so short-sighted. You are more precious to me alive than dead."

Toffee pulled away from the desk, instantly making her flinch. But rather than putting his hands on her, he instead turned and went back behind the computer.

"You need me to survive down here, and I need you for some… tests."

Star looked at the metallic tray cradling the implements she assumed were for what Toffee was implying.

"No."

"Just a small request, really. I would like to take a sample of your blood. Let me run it through my computer. If my theories are correct, your higher Mewman blood will-"

"Why would I allow you to do that?"

"Simply put, because I am asking… not ordering. I could have already taken your blood, just as I could have taken you, remember? You're merely tied as a safety measure while we can sort out a deal."

"I don't want a deal. I want you to let me go!"

Toffee's lips shrank into a small slit, his eyelids half closing with irritation.

"Think this through. You're a smart girl. The only way I'd let you go is to send you home and gain that reward. And as I've said, that's a pittance compared to what we can gain together using science and a little bit of your DNA."

"No, I'm not going back home."

"Ah, I knew you'd see things my way and come arou-"

"No!" her voice rose, feet stamping to the floor for emphasis, though they only made mild slaps from her stocking feet. Her loudness echoed through the nearly empty space around them. It turned her bold once again, as she had been when facing Ginger. "I'm not becoming some kind of lab experiment for you! Not to you or anyone else!"

Toffee narrowed his eyes. "You sound like you've made your choice."

Her chin lifted defiantly. "I have."

"Well then…"

Toffee rose and clasped his hands behind his back. He strode around Star, saying nothing, until she diverted her eyes from his pacing lanky form for just a moment.

CLICK!

It was a pitiless sound that slapped the memory of receiving her collar back to the forefront of her mind. She felt hard metal against her arm and jumped, looking down to see the handcuff-like brace that Toffee had locked near to her elbow. It snapped onto the armrest of her chair.

She flashed her eyes upwards, directly meeting his just inches away.

"Why're you-"

"I'm too tired to argue. Now, I'm not asking."

There was no time for a whimper. He pinned her wrist firmly against the chair and grasped one of the needles from the tray. Even though she struggled, he seemed not to need to apply any kind of force to fight against her resistance.

Toffee merely waited while he held her down, allowing her to expend her efforts futilely. She thrashed and kicked around for a good minute, her blond hair whipping teasingly around his long, amused face. What kicks connected he simply took.

She arched her back to break free, and even tried to lean over and bite him, but it was useless. She was reduced to a breathless, drained mess, her muscles trembling with both fear and exertion.

The blanket had completely fallen to the floor. Her kicking and jerking at his body had left her limbs spent. She tried to catch her breath.

"Finished?" he asked, with an utterly sweet ring to his voice. "I commend you for trying. It was a valiant effort. I especially enjoyed it."

He seized his opportunity and plunged the needle into her arm before she could muster any rebound strength.

Star cringed back a painful gasp, gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes to the point she could see sparks behind her eyelids. She felt the violent rush she had had with Aagil in the bedroom, sizzling her nerves, making her cheeks hot. She didn't want to break the needle in her arm. It was painfully tearing her skin with each fruitless attempt to pull away.

The tongue in Toffee's mouth slid over his teeth as his lips parted, allowing himself a heavier breath as he got a strong scent of her. His tail wrapped itself, snake-like, constricting around her legs to hold them back against the chair, like a free hand without fingers, enjoying his complete control.

"Nnurgh! Toffee stop!"

"Just relax, my gorgeous princess. I will be gentle." He was steadily drawing back on the plunger, pulling her blood along with it. He stopped once enough of the crimson fluid had reached one of the scratched markings along the side of the syringe body.

Again, the word 'princess' sounded so familiar, yet she hadn't a second to dwell on it. She yelped a groan as she felt him lean forward into her. There wasn't a moment where the tension on her wrists relaxed enough to let her slip free.

He removed the metallic clamp that clenched her arm, then withdrew back to the computer with the vial. The small hole he'd left in her flesh beaded with a growing red droplet.

"Now, for the real test," Toffee mumbled, inserting the end of the vial into a hub at the back of the computer's box-like body. A bulb of light flashed from orange to green, and even more, smaller gears within the contraption started to spin.

With all the eagerness of a child opening a surprise gift, Toffee scrambled into his chair, leaning forward to study the screen as rows and columns of symbols appeared, trailing down it like raining blue text. Star was used to seeing the reptile predominantly without much expression, but now his eyes widened, pupils shrinking. The light and letters of the monitor reflected off the wet surface of them; he gobbled them up as soon as they hit the screen, his snout beginning to bare a wicked smile of teeth.

"I knew I was right about your bloodline, Star," he said happily, but then his brows pinched together, his lips puckering as whatever was being revealed to him changed from something amazing to something perplexing. "Hmm, interesting… rather interesting."

"What is?" Star growled, wanting to know, but at the same time snapping vengefully as if she didn't care. "Something the matter with your little machine?!"

"That would not be the case. My machines are highly calibrated. I leave no margins for error. No, this is something… within you, my lady, that is completely different than anything I've come across before."

"Do you plan to fill me in or just keep going on with your delusional rantings?"

He quirked a smarmy brow her way, smoothing back his oiled hair.

"Hardly delusional, but I suppose since you'll be here a while it's worth having a companion to talk to, or argue with – as the case may be – whether you understand these things or not. They do somewhat concern you."

She gave an over the top, overly cynical smile as she tilted her head like a cherub.

"I need to perform a second test. Don't worry, I can see on your face already you're itching for another fight, but I can still use the same vial."

Mere moments later the light on the gearbox computer went back to orange, then to green, making a steady, tripping sound like a ticking clock. Toffee's attention was so enthralled in his work that Star was completely safe in her ambitions to map out the room, focusing on the only door. As she did so, she squirmed her left arm. A thin sheen of sweat was all that was needed to help her squeeze her hand out from under the leather bindings. Using the part of the blanket that remained closest, she hid what she had done and began to work on her other wrist.

Toffee narrowed his eyes as the screen blipped. The results had proven Star's blood to be pure, which was very rare and yet a result of which he guessed, but pure to the extent it was surprised him. Not only was it without non-Mewman contaminants generationally, but it had another material intertwined with the DNA. Not a contaminant, but an RNA trace element of radiation, to a small but potent degree.

He whispered beneath his breath, "Amazing…" He questioned if it could possibly be a magic residue, trying to contain his quickening pulse. Certainly, now he would need to keep the girl as his secret prisoner, for the untapped potential alone and not just her pure blood. Not even he could determine how much power could be eked out of her veins. If she had any magic at all, it was a find beyond his imagination.

"You see, Star," he managed to tear his eyes away from the screen and stand up once more, hands a bit jittery, behind his back to keep them stable.

Star quickly hid the fact that she was half-way through breaking loose of the second leather strap, seeing his belt keys on his hip as she tossed her hair, feigning disinterest.

"…nobody is happy here in Lower Mewni. Forced to never smell the clean air or have sunlight on your skin will do that to you over time. I decided to correct this, which is why I was planning to enlist your help."

"I already said I-"

Toffee's chin went to his chest, his hand stretching out and ordering her silence. "I will have your assistance, willing or not. Using the purest Mewman blood I can find – yours – I can synthesize a drug that will temporarily relieve them of their dour moods, of all of their unhappiness, and all at a reasonable enough price point. I've experimented with other synthesized compounds and the effects were not as addictive or dynamic as I'd like. But with yours, the purity on your blood will drive these poor Mewmans out of their minds. Something that will make them forget their own miseries entirely. It will be society-changing. Imagine! Every Mewman wanting, no – needing – a taste!"

"So you're not just a kidnapper, but crooked officer dealing drugs as well?"

"I am no petty drug dealer, Star," he rumbled dangerously. "This would be well beyond the type of measly drugs on the market, in a class all its own. It's not so much a drug as a revolutionary medical treatment… a part of daily life like eating or drinking. The reason it's crafted from DNA is so that it bonds to the DNA of the users, at least in part. Once they use it once it will become a part of them, something they won't just crave, but need to survive off of, at the cellular level. It's genius!"

"I-it's mad!"

"Mad like the rulers in Mewni? Or Queen Omnia? The wealthy own the world, Star. You'd be wise to side with me. I may seek a little personal gain, but I'm a scientific philanthropist! Every Mewman will be happy again in this world, because of me. It will change all of Mewni, the poor and even the wealthy."

"You-you'd use fellow Mewmans like that? For your own sick profit? For power? By turning them all into genetically addicted slaves? That makes you no better than those who keep other Mewmans as concubines or erase the people down here from their sight! Maybe you shouldn't have left after all. You belong up there!"

The fire in her cheeks returned, becoming an even hotter sting as she tried to turn her head to break from his burning gaze. His sharp teeth threatened her as, instead of anger, he met her rage with a grin, taking a couple stalking paces forward.

"You have no idea how much I'd love to see their faces again when I rise back to the top! And all I need is you to elevate me there!"

At that moment a large sound erupted from an area above and the entire building shook. Dust and grains of cement crumbled down from the ceiling like powder. Toffee stopped, looking up at the grit which landed over them.

While Toffee's eyes were towards the ceiling, Star lunged, getting her second wrist free and reaching for the belt of keys.

She was hit by something hard; a slash of green whipped across her face. His tail sent her reeling as she slammed into the desk.

A fraction of a second after, another blast rocked the building, sending both Toffee and Star into different directions.

A sharp, high-pitched noise rang in Star's ears. She opened her eyes to find herself on the ground with a cloud of cement dust all around her. The desk had overturned and the computer, with all of its gears and lights, lay exposed and scattered in several parts about the floor. The vial was shattered. She had only blacked out for a moment, having mercifully landed on the blanket.

Slowly, the whine in her ears subsided and instead let in the muffled sounds of chaotic panic from dozens of shouting voices above.

"It's the resistance!"

"They broke through to the prison cells!"

"Are they in the basement?!"

"Get the steamhounds! Don't let them escape!"

Star coughed and looked around, seeing Toffee's body just a few feet away, sprawled next to the broken chair she had formerly been strapped to. A chunk of ceiling had come down over it leaving a gaping hole above, along with tearing down cabinets from off the walls. The tray and syringes were missing, replaced by plaster rock and broken glass.

Cautiously, she dragged away the chair as she reached Toffee's body. When she got closer she could see that he'd been badly injured. A large piece of wood had splintered off from the chairback and was sent deeply into his side. Ironically, he had probably protected her from it, having just bashed her aside when the explosion occurred. The wood was lodged just under his arm and through his ribs, blood pooling on the floor from the ugly wound.

Toffee appeared to be unconscious, but alive.

Star looked to the single door. The panel next to it was still intact.

Around Toffee's waist was her means of escape. Star grabbed for the keys, quickly figuring out how to undo the belt clasp. From there it was easy to pull them from the loose leather. She jumped to the door and got to work using the multiple smaller keys, trying to work them into the hole she figured was meant for one of them. Keys were more of an antique decoration she was used to seeing but not using, and her shaky hands hampered her efforts.

After what felt like minutes trying not to cough from her scratchy throat, and selecting key after key to pry into the slot, one of them made a satisfying click. A blue bulb illuminated through the dusty air over the panel. The door slid into itself, but when she stepped into the elevator, which was far more narrow than any she'd been in before, it didn't close behind her. It didn't move at all.

She looked for a listing of buttons or anything that would give it a command, but found none. Instead, against one wall was a large gear inset into the wall, with two thick ropes on either side.

"What the?"

She grabbed one of the ropes and pulled, the elevator slightly lifting. It was a dumb waiter style, requiring physical effort, the mechanics relying on a hidden system of pulleys within the wall. She learned fast. The elevator bucked into life with her ardent tugs.

She heaved until the box hit a stop. A black and blue bruise had started to throb on her forehead but the adrenaline prevented her from feeling it in full. The door creaked and slid once again into itself and opened to the turbulent ground floor of the police station.

A blackened fog billowed in over her along with the incoherent yells of people filling the air.

While stepping over and around chunks of wall debris, spilled office equipment and stacks of paper strewn all around, she dodged the other officers that were trying to get their bearings. They were tremendously focused on whatever rooms were nearby, so she kept afar back, hiding behind whatever she could find as she sidestepped around. She strove not to make a single sound of her own, even when her stocking feet stepped on hard concrete bits jetting into her soles.

Nobody so much as paid her attention, and she easily snuck out from the heavily damaged, smoke-filled building, camouflaged by the powder and soot covering her. When she was a good distance away she could see the extent of the damage. A large portion of the outside brick looked like it had been blasted away.

As she disappeared into the last remaining pieces of the night, Toffee was roused in the basement by a smaller officer shaking him.

"Toffee?! Toffee! You alright?" He called upwards into the air, "It's Toffee! I found him! He's down here!"

With a wince of pain, Toffee blinked and sat up. Noticing his wound, he tore the wood from the gash in his side, panting as it immediately began to enclose and heal. It left his uniform annoyingly torn, and worse - stained. He stood somewhat shakily and looked down at Laar.

"What happened, Toffee? What were you doing down here!? Toffee, the rebels - they were trying to break in, and you were in here doing… what!?"

Toffee growled as he buckled the leather, then brushed down his pants calmly, hiding any semblance of concern for being somewhat caught in his secret basement lab. There wasn't much anyone could make of it being such, however, a point he immediately noted with repressed ire.

"Go after her."

"What!? Who her? Toffee, didn't you hear what I just said!? The rebels-"

"I will handle the others. Go after the woman wearing the collar and blue dress that was just here."

"One of the rebels? You found one in the basement? In a dress?!"

"Do as I say and stop asking questions!"

"But Toffee!"

He shot the gnome-ishly short man a thunderous glare. "Need I remind you of rank?"

"N-no, but…"

"Then go! And do not disappoint me!"

The agitated and confused officer took off through the debris field.

It wasn't long until the new morning began, but the first beams of dawn that would've started to filter down over Mewni's wealthy metropolis did not so much as touch the dilapidated sector of Mewni. Star had been awake and on the move for longer than she'd known before, in a place that seemed forever too dark. So much of her was sore, tired, and completely spent from all she'd been through just fleeing from one bad situation to the next.

As the people began to wake up and go about their business, Star realized it must have turned morning. There was very little other way to tell that morning had indeed come, all of the lights being cheaply-made forgeries of those from Upper Mewni, and nowhere near enough to compensate for true daylight. Everything looked pretty much the same as it did during the nighttime hours. Lit only enough to dimly see by.

The streets were beginning to fill. She knew she needed a safe place to hide as far away from the police station as possible. She had to quickly duck around corners whenever she saw or heard a squad car motor past.

"At least they're all distracted," she muttered to herself. For the moment she was thankful that she looked as grubby and filthy as all the rest. Nobody turned their head to give her a second glance, keeping their own heads down as they went on with their own daily drudgeries.

She had wandered in many circles, easily getting lost multiple times. She felt trapped in a concrete maze. There were few, if any, street signs and the landmark buildings all looked as equally squalid as the next, without any truly distinguishing features. Finally though, she found the one building she sought. It was the same building she had laid eyes on when she had been mugged.

She headed for it as if it was an oasis in the center of a vast desert.

Star nervously approached the somewhat gaudy house. The stairs led up to a covered porch with small pillars on either side. It reminded her of a miniaturized but antique version of a mansion from her district of Mewni. At least it was somewhat familiar-feeling.

"I guess I have to at least try."

She reached forward, then tentatively knocked on the door.

The voice that answered from within belonged to a female, and it was deep and gravely, yet also sweet-sounding.

"We are closed until the evening hour, dear, but please come again later!"

"I'm not here for business, uhm, I'm," she wasn't sure what to say, because she didn't know exactly what kind of business the double-leveled house could have. She could only assume it was a hotel of some sort. "I-I'm just looking for a room. I'm sorry, I don't really have money to pay but I can trade, maybe?"

There was silence. Star struggled to find more to say.

"I'm so sorry. I'm very tired… and hungry. I wouldn't want to be any trouble and I wouldn't stay long. Please? I just need… some help."

Several locks were undone on the other side of the double doors. She could hear metal siding through latches, nothing at all electronic or magical sealing the door shut. And when the last bolt was slid one of the heavy mahogany doors creaked open. An older woman stood on the inside, her hair done up in a bun beneath a short-brimmed, feathered hat. She wore a deeply red, floor-length gown that was rather form-fitting, and looked to be around fifty years old.

"I am Madam Lovelace. Come in out of the streets, child."

She took Star's hands and pulled her in.

The place had a large living room lounge with couches and gaudy lamps all about, and a bar full of bottles of various liquors. She was welcomed by the warmth of it, and the perfumed scent that found her nostrils was so inviting compared to the outside that smelled of steam and wet aged grime. It was like lilacs in the summer. All of the windows were draped in red silky fabrics trimmed in black fringe. A staircase spiraled up on the left-hand side, leading to an upstairs portion with multiple hallways and rooms.

"Is this a hotel?" Star inquired.

The older woman beamed, perhaps finding her innocence amusing.

"Oh child, this is a place of temporary stays, yes, but not quite of the hotel sort."

She didn't know exactly what that meant, but just dropped her shoulders and gave up. "I just need a place to sleep a few hours. But I can only really offer you this dress as payment."

The Madam eyeballed her from head to toe, even walking all around her.

"Well, the dress seems mostly intact and not worse for wear, other than needing a cleaning. Can probably fix a few of those cuts, though those stockings have certainly exceeded their lifespan. And where are your shoes, child?"

When the woman spoke to her it wasn't at all in a demeaning way. It made her feel relaxed, even safe somehow. Maybe she was simply too exhausted to make up a story but she felt the last ounces of her guard slip away, and decided just to be straightforward.

"They got stolen."

"I see. That would happen when you wear such fine things out here." Her eyes seemed to linger on the collar. "You're not from this part of Mewni, are you?"

"No, ma'am."

"I know quality craftsmanship when I see it, despite it being covered in soot. You're a runaway concubine from one of the higher levels?"

Star looked up in surprise, then nodded sadly, grabbing an elbow with one hand and looking away again, ashamedly. "…Yes. Please don't try to take me back. I'm not going back."

The woman smiled in a genuinely heartfelt way as she took Star's hands into her own lacey, red-gloved ones. She led her to one of the couches.

"I wouldn't dream of it. I believe in doing what you can to survive, but that also means finding your own happiness."

She sat Star down and rang a small bell that sat atop a table next to a statue of a naked woman riding astride an overly-muscled warnicorn. A woman with wildly purple hair came down from the upper floor in response.

"Yes, Madam?"

"Beatrix, might you be able to scrounge up some of the dinner leftovers from last night?"

"Of course, mum, right away."

The woman was about the same age as Willow, Star thought, but more thin. She wore what might be considered an elegant styled dress for Lower Mewni, but it was very revealing of her figure, especially around her breasts, the dress sitting off the shoulders. The woman also had a very simple black lace collar with a large silver ring on it around her neck.

Star's face fell immediately into a pout. It hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Don't worry, child." The Madam gracefully set the small bell back down on the end table, facing Star. "I will not pretend anything with you. You'll find I am very direct. This is a pleasure house, much like the palaces they have in Upper Mewni. But all of my girls are not my slaves. They work for me, at their own will, and they get paid for their work. They can spend it however they wish and can leave whenever they want. Their collars are mere costume-ware to make the patrons feel a bit more… empowered compared to their lot in life. They remove them at the end of their shift."

"Really?" Star was confused. She couldn't immediately believe that anyone would choose to work in such a way when they were free to go, and to do anything else they wanted, not having masters that bought and paid for them.

"Yes, of course. All of my girls get room and board as well as a wage. I treat them fair, and you are welcome to speak with any of them. I could even take you on as a hire. That is, if you should change your mind."

Star's eyes widened with a note of apprehension.

"In time, I mean, child. You are quite young and beautiful, and would do well for yourself with me. It looks like you've been treated a bit roughly so far, judging by that bruise on your head and those knees. But know there is no pressure here. You are free to choose."

The older woman stood and went to the bar to jot some notes into a log book by hand. She used a feathered black quill, and Star's eyes were hypnotized by it as she saw it flutter over the page. She was dizzy, famished, and sleep was starting to make her limbs heavy.

"In the meantime," continued Madam Lovelace, "I shall have Beatrix prepare a room for you. I accept your trade offer and will take your gown as payment for say, two week's stay with full kitchen privileges. You can eat and drink however much you want, come and go as you like, have access to the bathing rooms, and have clean linens daily. I am sorry I cannot possibly offer you a truly fair trade for the dress. Even with those minor tears it's above my paygrade. This is the best I can offer you."

"Thank you. It means a lot to me."

"And who is 'me' child?" she smiled, stopping the feathered pen from its writing.

"Sorry, I didn't say earlier. My name's Star."

"Star, how lovely. Well Star, I am happy to have you with us for however long you wish to stay. And, if you decide to continue on here, we can come to another arrangement of course. Ah, Bee-Bee, please show Star to our dining room."

Beatrix had appeared from a side room carrying a plate of food, something looking like mashed potatoes with maybe a couple strips of meat laid over them, smothered in gravy. The scent of it immediately made Star's stomach grumble, waking her up just enough to stand and follow.

After she had scarfed the meal down, hardly allowing the food enough time to settle on her tongue for taste, Beatrix showed her to a room. It was a quarter of the size of her former bedroom at the manor, with a smaller wardrobe, smaller dresser for clothes, and a bed only large enough for one comfortably. The curtains had already been drawn for the night but it was already a darkened room. Nothing at all was white and bright like within the manor; the walls and flooring were composed of dark woods, covered with red and black matching rugs, wall-hangings, and bed furnishings, making it so much darker inside. There was one light with a lantern-like glass shade over it, its small flickering flame dancing from the tip of a fabric wick within. Due to the number of mirrors placed all around the room, the single light was surprisingly effective at keeping the interior aglow with a warm, cozy feeling.

"Beatrix?" Star looked to the girl that had shown her the room, and who was quickly making an exit.

She stopped in the doorway. "Yes? Anything else I can do for you?"

Star had questions in her head, and her tongue so wanted to ask them, but seeing Beatrix's soft green eyes, her mouth seemingly unable to frown, her attitude so upbeat, she decided to hold back. Rather than the heavier things she'd intended to ask, instead trickled out idle pleasantry.

"Thanks for showing me this great room."

"Ah, no bother! Mum decorates all the rooms but if you decide to stay you can change it however you like."

"You call her mum, is she… your mother?"

Beatrix chuckled a little. "No, no, that's just what all us girls call her. Most of us are from orphanages. Mum finds us in all places and offered us a chance at a new life. We all look up to her as a mother… of sorts."

Star held her tongue again, choosing not to inquire about the concubindome of Lower Mewni. Her body ached for sleep. The bed looked lumpy and misshapen, yet totally inviting.

"I'll bring up your clothing. When you're ready, just leave your dress and things beside the door and I'll fetch them later. You look pretty beat, best you get some sleep before tonight."

"W-why? What happens tonight?"

"Ahh, you know… the gentleman callers. It can get loud sometimes and lot of people coming and going."

"...Oh."

"Ahh," Beatrix shrugged and snickered again, "It's not as bad as it sounds! Don't worry. Most of us sleep during the day anyway."

Star crawled atop the bed. It sank in under her weight, a bit too much so, causing her to literally fall into it.

"You get some sleep, ok?" Beatrix smiled. "You can leave your dress near the door and I will fetch it later, and will leave you the new dress mum is going to get for you."

Star awkwardly rose back up from the bed which almost devoured her whole, breaking into a giggle herself. She was too used to her former bed, which was rigid and hard by comparison.

"Thanks again," she said. And when Beatrix closed the door she slid in under the sheets. The long broken-in bed springs hardly bothered to support her weight. She removed her dress and stockings, tossing them flippantly to the floor, and accepted the bed that acted more like a pillow. It was admittedly the most comfortable bed she'd slept in.

Later that afternoon Beatrix burst into her room. Star was still fast asleep, oblivious to the commotion as Beatrix snatched her dress and stockings, until the girl jumped into the bed with her, stuffing the dress down at their feet beneath the blankets.

"What's going-!?"

"Shhhhh! Police! Just play along!"

Her eyes went wide, her adrenaline instantly prompting her heart to beat into her throat. The sudden invasive awakening kicked Star's adrenaline into overdrive. Beatrix was on top of her underneath the covers, and embracing her tightly.

Star opened her mouth to speak again but the bedroom door flung open with a rough bang, and Beatrix planted her mouth onto hers, stifling her to muffled noise while adding in her own. The sound of crunching mechanical parts like footsteps, and sniffing hisses like steam vents, came into the room, as well as two other voices.

"Police! Just running a missing persons search, people, you can… ugh, continue," Laar grunted, seeing the struggling forms beneath the bed blankets and snorting, quickly averting his eyes with disgust. "Why can't Toffee do his own dirty work… he's the one that enjoys places like this."

Star was paralyzed in fear. Whatever was sniffing was taking long echoey breaths, edging closer.

"I thought Lovelace's didn't open until six of the clock?" the other officer grumbled, stepping ignorantly past Laar with a push into the room.

The sounds of the ratcheting metal was directly next to the bed, seeming to tower over it.

Star couldn't see through Beatrix's lavender locks draping over her entire head. It seemed that the concubine did so on purpose. When the officer spoke, Beatrix simply grunted harder, almost angrily. Star didn't so much play along as she remained stunned to the bed, wearing nothing but a bra and panties with the other woman groping her hands all around her in no particular fashion, being loud and obnoxious with her lips pressed against her.

The metal clanked like steel against steel, like teeth sharpening themselves. Star's body flooded with a rush of unknown heat, beginning at her cheeks.

The officer barked again, "I said, Lovelace's doesn't open until-"

"Until six, you're right, officer."

The voice came from the Madam herself. It was deep and without a hint of worry.

"Please, if you don't mind," she directed Laar and his partner away from the doorway, "I do allow for VIP clients to arrive two hours beforehand for special attention." She called out to Beatrix and Star, "My apologies for the intrusion, please feel free to help yourself to a sauna later, courtesy of the house."

Laar narrowed his eyes and took one last glance over at the bed, then sharply whistled. Whatever had made the mechanical noises bounded away, moving on multiple legs. The Madam closed the door and Star could hear the voices of the trio as they walked down the hall, followed more slowly by the grinding of gears.

"You certainly can check all of our rooms here but I assure you, no new girl has shown up in recent days, as a new hire or a client."

Laar persisted. "We just need to conduct the search room by room, regardless of what you say."

"I understand, but do so without barging into the rooms and questioning my clients. Do not disrupt my business whilst you conduct yours."

The voices faded away as they entered other rooms down the hall.

Beatrix finally unlocked her mouth from Star, sweeping her long hair away and leaning back, still straddling her.

"Whew, close one."

Star's eyes darted around Beatrix. "Whaaaaat just happened?" She wasn't yet ready to allow her muscles to relax. She stayed pinned beneath her, questioning what was about to happen next.

"That was the police looking for you. They asked about a girl wearing a beautiful gown and an irresistible heart collar, with long, flowing, amazing looking blond hair. Ring any bells?" she laughed lightly, a rosey blush flooding her cheeks hard.

"Did… did they use those exact words?" Star stammered, trying to break the tension with a sarcastic, yet nervous smile.

Beatrix could only laugh.

Awkwardly, Star looked up at Beatrix while she looked down at her. The moment seemed to last far longer than natural.

"Are you going to let me get up?" Star asked slowly.

"Oh! Ahh yes, sorry!" Beatrix hopped off of Star. "Stay here until they leave, all right? They still have the steamhound."

"Steamhound?"

"Yeah. That's why I couldn't hide you. I had to… ahh, improvise." Her cheeks flushed red as ever. "If I hid you anywhere else in here it would have seen you. Easier to turn you into a client since they'd expect two people in a bed, heh. It can see in the dark and where people are hiding. And when it finds what it's looking for it snaps its jaws down and you can't break that clamp. You'd never get away."

"Oh!"

"That's right, you're from Upper Mewni. Don't need no steamhounds there. Well, they're like a walking computer that looks like a huge dog, sort of. They're brutal machines. Fast, and unstoppable. You must be very important to someone because they don't send the dogs out except for like, the resistance members."

"Resistance members?" Star swung her legs over the side of the bed, covering herself with the blanket.

The motion of Star shielding herself made Beatrix suddenly realize Star's modesty. "By the way, I have the dress mum wanted to give you."

Beatrix walked over to the small dresser and pulled out what might have been considered a very nice dress for Low Mewni standards, but it wasn't quite what Star was used to. It was short, to the knees at most, and only had two spaghetti straps to hold it up once on the shoulders. There weren't any ruffles or lace except for the lacework along the spine, to keep the bodice attached. But, it was blue, a pleasant fading shade of dark indigo, and came with clean white stockings.

"It's lovely, thank you," Star grinned. She was sad to see the beauty and elegance of her old dress go, but happy she would be able to fit in.

"Mum figured you'd enjoy the blue, your other dress being blue and all."

"She's very thoughtful."

"Yes, you will love her, you'll see. You won't wanna leave."

"Uhm… well, I-"

Before Star could complete her sentence, they heard footsteps coming towards them in the hall. Beatrix immediately sprang to cover Star.

The door of the bedroom opened. It was Madam Lovelace, alone.

"It's all right girls, it's just me."

"Oh madam, so glad it's you!" Beatrix removed herself from her hug of Star and set the clothing on her lap for her to get dressed.

Star was left wondering just a little bit more about Beatrix, but she shook her head to clear the thought from her mind, beginning to slip on the dress so that she could express her thanks once again to Madam Lovelace directly, while being clothed. The fabric felt a little more course than silky but she was impressed how well it did fit her slender curves. Beatrix quickly moved to lace up the corset in the back without her needing to ask, while the older women walked up to them both.

"I keep having to thank you, madam." Star said with a slight bow. "The dress fits me perfect and it's so colorful."

The madam smiled gently. "Star, we both know it doesn't compare to what you had before, but I thank you for your desire to thank me just the same. Just don't pander to me, child, I can only tolerate so much flattery."

Were anyone else to speak such things, Star might find them to be too boldly assuming, but the way the older woman sweetly confided, with so soft yet authoritative of inflection, made her feel more like a sympathetic equal.

As Star grinned sheepishly, she continued. "It appears that you had a run in with the police."

"Yeeeeah, about that…"

"You needn't explain, child. You're a runaway from Upper Mewni. No doubt your former owners are seeking to get you back."

"Er, yeah, something like that. Listen, I gotta thank you for standing up for me, and… and not giving me away. You didn't have to do that and it means a lot-"

"Stop thanking me already, Star. Treat my place as your refuge. We all have to stick together sometimes against such… oppressions."

"Than-I mean, uhm, I will."

"Good girl," she said, seeing Star's quick compliance and brushing the back of he gloved hand along her cheek. "You're stronger than you know, Star."

She was unsure why the madam has said that. "What?"

"I thought I saw something on your cheek there."

"Yeah, me too, under the blankets," Beatrix admitted. "Thought I saw something."

"Wha-huh, what something?" She rose a hand to her cheek but didn't feel anything but a slight tingle.

Madam Lovelace took her hand away and stopped examining her skin. "Nothing, child, I don't see anything there but a pretty young face. Must have been just my eyes as I'm getting older. The light hits your skin and really brings out your glow."

"Yeah," Beatrix breathily sighed.

"Bee-Bee?"

"Yes, mum?"

"Go help the others prepare for tonight."

The girl gave a mock pout and rolled her eyes. "Yeeees, madam."

"And Star? We all like to have a large meal right before we open, so you may join us in the dining hall. I can introduce you to the other girls."

*****

Almost the full two weeks had gone by, feeling like a fast-forwarding through time for Star. She came to know all of the working girls in the brothel, even helping out Madam Lovelace around the house as a courtesy. If any of the girls needed new linens she would quickly be there to get them washed, and even washed dishes after meals. She kept the place as tidy as she had for Aage and Aagil's manor. It was what she knew, and she felt good being able to fall back into a role she was used to and assist those that had helped to keep her safe and hidden.

Although it initially went against her better judgment, pricking her own sense of moral right to help out a place that she basically had just run away from, in speaking to the women she found none of them to be at all unhappy with their positions. On the contrary, they usually did far better in making a living for themselves than others in Lower Mewni, though Star didn't particularly think that was a good or noble thing. She thought that the amount of money somehow made it right in all of their minds - the self-employment, and the empowerment that came with it - but she figured it wasn't her place to complain when they were happy and clearly not slaves.

She had made good friends with Beatrix, though at times she felt that the concubine wanted to get closer than just friends. Beatrix was definitely more free in her sexuality, as many of the other women were, but Star found herself awkward in such situations. Her reservations against exploring some of the things Beatrix seemed to want to with her presented a challenge that only made Beatrix want to pressure her slightly more into what she termed as 'self-discovery.'

Nevertheless, they were close, as close or perhaps closer than she had been with Willow. She was starting to feel like she had found a new home, and was debating requesting a maidservant position with Madam Lovelace to work for her keep.

But as her two weeks were coming to a close, trouble was not too far behind chasing at her ankles, stomping her back under the bootheel of reality.

Lovelace's place served a great many customers from all corners of the bedraggled belly of Mewni. Some had positions of relative power like police or politicians, while others were their polar opposite: the seedy folk the police were tasked to chase down, or the well organized criminals. One of Madam Lovelace's more prominent attendees was a known mob boss, whose influence often swayed judges to rule in his favor, or simply paid off the police. Many were in his pocket. It was unwise not to give him his way.

He was the largest man Star had seen in Lower Mewni, where most of the citizens were getting by on scraps. Most ate too little to gain any fat, so his size was a definite mark of his status below. She'd seen far larger though, in Upper Mewni, even Mewmans that couldn't walk under their own power anymore due to their scale. They got around instead on wide hoverchairs.

She was busy tidying up the lobby before the evening began in earnest, when he walked in without so much as a knock. Two bodyguard-like henchman came along with him at either side, and his arm was wrapped around the shoulder of a red-haired teenage boy Star's own age.

Lovelace was always the portrait of calm even under pressure, and the rude entry did little to change it. She simply directed herself towards the pudgy-faced man with her usual flourish and good-natured hospitality, ignoring the ignorant intrusion.

"My, it's been a time since I've seen you and your boys. All work and no play, so they say," she smiled, "will get you into too much mischief!"

The boss was a great smile from ear to ear, the flab of his cheeks rippling to the sides. He wobbled a bit on his feet, with words somewhat slurred.

"We're here to create some mischief, not take a break from it!"

He was dressed as if he was about to fine dine, with a very clean-cut black suit. His thick hands were adorned with equally large rings that looked impossible to remove, like sausages overly wrapped too tight. His shoes weren't polished like Toffee's had been. They were scuffed and scrapped. A hefty gold chain was draped around his neck that ended in a small glowing white stone shaped like a demon horn. It could only have come from Upper Mewni. Such a thing reeked of expense.

"Lets not break any of the lamps or beds this time, alright?"

Madam Lovelace could get away with painting a criticism in with a compliment. Star enjoyed hearing her as she managed her affairs with total confidence.

"Do take into consideration you don't need to hustle my girls the same as you do your clientele. They will readily give you whatever your desires. So, how may we serve you this evening? The usual?"

The boss shook his head, then looked at the youth he was holding tightly against his side, shaking him a little until he likewise smiled, albeit sheepishly.

"This is my son, Maximus. It's his birthday today. The big eighteen."

"Ahh, well congratulations, Maximus. Finally come of age to enjoy all of the sundry adult entertainments."

His father spoke on his behalf. "Yes! Got him a bit loosened up and ready to go for ya girls."

The boy gave a gentle laugh, and when Star briefly met his eyes she saw his locked onto her. She didn't know how long he'd been watching her, but the sensation of his eyes immediately pricked her nerves. She decided to clean elsewhere, heading upstairs.

The boy's eyes followed her every step of the way.

The Madam rang the bell from the end table a certain way and called up to the working girls. Those that were not already with clients quickly came bouncing down the stairs and lined up beside her, holding their skirts with coy little smiles and winks at the men in the main lobby. They had done this lineup routine before.

Beatrix and the others bowed and did some twirls while the mob boss pointed and elbowed his son, distracting his eyes away from where Star had gone off to. His father made him look at the bawdy delights set before him.

"Now, which one do ya like best? Personally, I like this one here with the purple hair… she knows some special tricks with her tongue!" he laughed. "Oh but this one is also amazing! How she bends her body in all the right ways! If ya want more than one, that's OK too, but not too many. Ya'll get too worn out and we have more bars to hit up tonight after ya become a real man!"

Maximus observed the girls with a half-hearted air. He touched the hair of Beatrix between his fingers, then moved on to another, feeling along her breast, finally spanking a third just to hear her squeak.

"They aren't like limos, boy. Ya can test drive as many as ya want and not have to keep them, or make payments!"

The Madam's lips pursed into a purposefully drawn smile, her eyes twinkling, but hiding disdain.

"Take your time choosing. They are all highly gifted and each have their own flavor, but are all here for your tasting."

The birthday boy analyzed each in turn, then spoke with a lofty, arrogant tone.

"What about the one with the heart collar? Why isn't she here?"

Lovelace was taken slightly aback, but she didn't miss a beat.

"That is the help staff. She is not one of my service providers."

"Well that's the one I want," he said matter-of-factly. "Bring her to me."

"I'm sorry, but she is not for hire. Please, choose any of the others."

The girls standing there continued to suggest themselves, batting eyes and touching their bodies as if allergic to their clothes, and they needed to soon come off. Beatrix in particular tried to put on a more fierce presentation, turning around and bending as she adjusting one of her long to-the-hip stockings.

"That's the one I want."

His father stepped in, at first taking Lovelace's side, only to falter mid-way through. "Max, ya want a trained girl that knows her way around charming ya snake. Ya sure that's the one?"

"I'm sure."

Madam Lovelace began to protest, but the boss interrupted.

"If she's the one he wants, then that's his choice. Can't talk no sense into young kids these days," he chuckled. "So go fetch her."

"She is not hired for that."

"She's got a collar and a gash between her legs. What more does she need? My son's no fool. He can figure it out."

"I must disagree. She's-"

The bodyguards took a few steps closer to the Madam at the flex of the boss's shoulders, his arm dropping off his son's back at long last. His face went from wrinkles of good humor to a scowl of intimidation.

"She's the one my son wants, and the one he'll have tonight."

The girls in the line became more jittery, having trouble sustaining their sexy poses. Their eyes frequently went to Lovelace's face to read her. She remained firm.

"Choose another, and I can make it complimentary for you and your men for the entire night, open bar and sauna."

The angry father predatorily approached Lovelace, continuing to draw closer and speak softer until he was right up in her face, their noses almost squarely touching. But she didn't even tilt her head an inch back.

"I believe my son made it clear, but I can make it more so. You wouldn't want me to break anything."

"If your son has a bad time with an inexperienced girl, you're liable to do that anyway."

"Why test me on that? I could have your building burned to the ground. Where would ya girls go then, hmm? Do ya have enough saved up to build another place? I think not, especially since the prices of permits will go up if I speak to the Building Rep."

"You have the power to buy the clout to do that, but you won't put me out of business, even if you did torch the place."

"I'd not like it if I had to do that, mess up this nice place… or ya girls. Black eyes and missing teeth don't make for pretty faces for the customers, now, do they?"

The older woman lowered her head for the first time, the threat of violence to her girls a step too far. She was silent for agonizingly long seconds while he breathed his boozed-up breath in her face, until she looked up once again.

"Come with me, Maximus. I can't promise you she'll be willing."

The son stuck out his chin and gave a sly grin. "Who's asking? I get what I want, just lock the door behind me."

Lovelace and Beatrix exchanged nervous glances as she led the teen past the other girls and headed for the upstairs bedrooms. She knew Star was likely in her own room.

The pair began to mount the stairs, each step a slog through shame. Lovelace looked over the railing, seeing the bodyguards start to unwind at the bar with the ladies distracting them. She shook her head when Beatrix attempted to follow her up, leading the boy towards Star's room.

Her eyes begged a 'don't do this' stare, but Madam Lovelace's were ashamedly settled on their course.

Star was inside, sitting on the bed and stitching together a couple pieces of fabric where a hole had torn in one of the girls' hand gloves. Lovelace stopped just before her door, turning away so as not to look at her as Maximus quickly went forward. He entered the room like his father had the brothel, as if it and everything within was his own.

Once he slammed the door, the Madam regretfully pulled out her master keys. Her eyes didn't want to see what her hands had to do. She felt the key snap the lock into place.

The walls were crafted of thick wood, but it didn't keep down much noise, and hearing the goings-on in the quarters was an unsettling yet altogether familiar experience for everyone inside; but this time the sounds were rougher that the usual; combative; not the typical outbursts of excitement. The teenager that barged into the room immediately demanded for its occupant to undress.

"Uh, maybe you have the wrong room?" Star questioned.

"I don't. I've chosen you as my girl tonight."

"I don't work here. I mean, uh, I do… but not like that. You've made a mistake."

"That's funny. I don't make mistakes," he said as he rushed over to her and forced his mouth against hers.

She fought to pull herself away while his hands groped around her, grabbing a hold of the fabric and trying to tear off whatever pieces he could. She could taste the alcoholic burn in his mouth and tried to smack him away.

Madam Lovelace could hear the situation quickly escalating. She couldn't bare a moment of it, heading back down the stairs at the same time Star had broken free, running to the door. It was locked. No amount of jiggling the handle wretched it open. Everyone could hear the resultant bangs as fists hit against the door.

"Hey! Let me out!"

Maximus wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her waist away. "Get back here!"

Star found her fists balling up. Her anxiety began as a cold shiver that turned into sweat. Her chest tightened and her face flushed.

Her voice screamed out. "Someone open the door!"

"Not until we're done!"

Star's hand had reached out, and without even feeling her knuckles make contact to his jaw, the man toppled slightly, colliding with a mirror and shattering it. She repeated herself more vehemently, with gravel in her slowly deepening voice, as if a darker force was speaking for her and she didn't want to stop it.

"Let… me… go."

"Bitch, stop fighting me!"

He slapped a hand across her face and she fell backwards into the bed. He removed his belt.

As her blood raced, Star could hear it thudding in her ears, along with the voice she had heard whispering once before. It was faint, calling to her like her heart's pulse, insistent and undaunted, stinging her cheeks.

After the telltale clank of the belt, she heard the frightful sound of a zipper.

The unexplained fire that she'd felt before seemed to burn hotter in her veins. Without knowing fully what had possessed her, she gripped the tie of the boy as he hunched over her and tried to hold her down, one hand holding her arm back and the other pressing down her collar.

He laughed when her hand pulled the tie, bringing him closer. His scrappy pants fell to his ankles. The sound of his belt clicking in her ears was like the last ticks of an explosive grenade.

"I like this foreplay!" he grunted animalistically as his shoulder muscles trembled to keep her pinned.

But when he finally fastened his eyes to hers, what he saw therein made the blood flee from his face, his anticipation turning to terror.

She blinked hard as the inferno deep inside intoxicated her. The sapphire pigment of her eyes shifted to pure luminous white, so bright not even the blackness of her pupils could be seen. They were so full of light that they brightened the space around them both, the tie scorching in her fist and strangling him with a noose of fire. As he gargled out a scream, his hand that was placed upon her neck likewise burned.

"I SAID-"

But the young man didn't get to hear her finish.

She felt the anger surge into her every sinew. From the tips of her fingers and toes to every place in-between, it scorched within like the blistering of lava pushing up inside a pressurized volcano, climbing higher and higher still, into her fiery cheeks. Heart-shaped marks appeared on her face, searing with white-hot light.

She could see the snarl over the bridge of the gentleman's nose twist and contort, his eyebrows turning from hard downward angles to upturned distraught arches of pain. He had moved both hands to grip her by the throat in a vain effort to make her stop; connected to the collar, he found that he couldn't remove them. The power from Star's own body had conducted into it and his hands were completing a circuit between them, bubbling his flesh from the scorching heat.

Grinning from euphoria, Star's energy erupted. The man began to spasm wildly like an electrocuted puppet, his voice becoming shrill and piercing. The collar was melting the flesh from his fingers, the gemstone heart a blazing crimson as the man's fingers became bone.

A small white slash fractured across the gemstone heart's surface like the reaching arms of a snowflake. In a moment fermented in the man's final screams, everything around her exploded with shining pure light. The man shredded apart as if ripped by a spiraling internal tornado; the collar severed free from her neck; the exterior walls of the room opened to the outside.

Star had levitated, then collapsed to the floor, the exertion having pulled almost every bit of strength from her body. How long she had been unconscious, she didn't know, but it couldn't have been long. Madam Lovelace was the first face she saw when she was lifted up by her hands.

She was greeted with multiple pairs of eyes that looked on her not as much with worry as that of dread. Even Star herself, recalling the memory of what had just happened, wasn't sure how she had done it, or why she'd allowed it. She had murdered the mob boss's son in a moment of vengeance, utterly reveling with the power.

The voices of the brothel women came in at all angles, jumbled up in her head like the incoherent voices of hysteric starlings fighting to be heard, one over the other as they filed into the room. Then men's shouting, brutish and large, yelled over them somewhere behind.

They were charging up the stairs.

"Bee?" Star asked as she came out of her stupor, looking for her purple hair. "W-what happened?"

"I'm right here," a small voice said. Beatrix was not one of the women who had helped her to sit up, instead choosing to hang back behind the others, only darting glances towards her. She continually averted her eyes, looking from the broken wall, to Star, then at the burn marks all over the floor.

All at once the mob boss barged in, then halted, his inhaled breath hanging in his throat. His eyes searched the room, seeing the women piled together on the floor, the burn marks on the carpet, the drapes. The mirrors were shattered, and it was hard to miss the exploded out wall. But his son he didn't see.

His bodyguards burst in and were likewise aghast, looking to their stupefied boss for direction.

Star whimpered, the spent energy leaving her emotionally compromised. Seeing Beatrix, of all the brothel girls, afraid to touch her or even to go near her, was more than she was ready to handle.

"What happened Star?!" one of the other girls asked in a flurry. "How did your cheeks… glow?"

"Where is his son? He isn't here?" asked another.

"There was light, and an explosion. What did you do?"

One of the goons stomped forward. "The little tart killed him!" He pulled something that looked like a polished wooden stick wrapped in coiled wire from his belt holster. The second followed suit. They both pointed the weapons towards the women and they all squeaked with fear.

The boss began to heave his breaths, growling as his fists balled at his sides. Sweat on his brow ran down the sagging fat of his face.

"One of ya had to have seen something. Tell me! Now!"

Madam Lovelace protectively wrapped her arm around Star. "He must have ran. You saw as much as we did, and he's not here."

The father was on the verge of monstrous rage. The willpower it took to restrain himself left him visibly shaking. The veins of his neck raised out, skin thinning around tightening knuckles.

"If none of ya tells me what happened here, I'll make sure to find out, one finger at a time, one wrist at a time, one eye at a time!"

He grabbed Beatrix, who was the farthest from the pack, yanking her back by the hair and forcing her down at his knees. The guards stood by, ready in case she tried to resist.

"So help me, I will snap her neck right now!"

"Beatrix!" Star shouted. "Stop! Let her go!"

But it was Beatrix that spoke, in a coughed, tearful whisper.

"The man melted. I saw it. I saw it all myself. He's dead."

Star's head throbbed and her heart went through a myriad of emotions. The conflicted feelings besieged her while she looked down at her shivering hands, staring at them like illegal, deadly weapons that might activate and kill them all, being unable to stop it, or even worse - to enjoy it.

She saw the glint of the collar lying between her knees on the floor. She slowly touched the heart lock of it, which was cracked and broken, split down the middle; then, she pulled back her hand to feel at the skin left bare on her neck. She barely noticed the Madam's hands wiping the tears off her face with a handkerchief.

The words faltered from her mouth, but her body stood up on shaking though adamant legs.

"I didn't mean, I mean… it was an accident."

"Accident!?" the boss roared, several of the girls jumping back from the outburst. "Ya killed my boy! My boy!"

Anguished, Star could only repeat herself as she bent to pick up the collar. The brothel girls stood quickly, instinctively backing against the side wall away from the men and her. No one tried to reach out and grab back Star's arm, like she almost hoped they would. Not even Beatrix.

"I didn't mean to kill him."

The mob boss watched her with eyes glazed over, nearing the point of frenzy, ears no longer hearing any of her sniveled-out words. Then he gave the order.

"Tie them all up!"

The women began to scatter around the ruptured room screaming as the two henchman corraled them with their weapons. Only Madam Lovelace refused to resist. The boss himself grabbed her harshly by the elbow elbow and pulled a lose cord from a back pocket, lashing her wrists behind her back.

"I'll start with you."

"As well you should." She was proud even though defeat was closing in.

Star was frozen in what felt to her like a time bubble. The women were shrieking around her, being beaten and tied up by the men. Their motions swam around her in a horrific blur.

They were placed on their knees and lined up next to each other, weeping and pleading, until only Star herself remained, the broken-out wall at her back and everyone else before her.

She caught eyes with Lovelace, uttering an "I'm sorry" under her garbled breath.

"I am the one who needs apologize to you. He got what was coming to him. You did nothing wrong, child."

At those words the Madam shut her eyes, knowing that as she finished it would be the last thing she'd say. The boss drew his own firearm, pressed it to her temple, and pulled the trigger. A steel bolt inside the chamber of the barrel imbedded into her skull before instantly withdrawing, painted in her blood.

"Burn the place… burn it all!" he commanded over the women's terrified screams. "And take this one!" He side-swiped his gun against Star's forehead, causing her to reel almost out of the gaping hole in the wall. "I want to kill her slowly!"

Star was the last one not bound, and both of the goons focused their attention on her. But they hesitated awkwardly, as if waiting for the other to move first.

"What are ya waiting for!" the boss yelled, leveling his gun into the back of Beatrix's orchid locks.

Neither of his men wanted to touch Star, unsure of her power, or how she'd killed Maximus. While they mustered up the courage, Star could see the boss's finger pull the trigger.

The sound of wet bone tore Star back into the reality of the moment; seeing Beatrix's body slump to the floor triggered her reflexes to flee, like a racehorse that heard it's bell, the release gates opening to allow it to run.

She turned around and dashed for the crumbled brick hole. She leapt out of it, almost without seeing, grabbing hold of a fire escape ladder barely clinging to the side of the building on rusted hinges.

Ths boss barked for one of his men to exit through the front of the building and beat her to the street, ordering the other to light the place up. As Star's eyes filled with warped vision from overflowing tears she could hear the sound of glass bottles breaking, the whoosh of flames and crackling tinders. She heard the bolt-gun fire again and again as the ladder creaked beneath her weight.

The ladder allowed her to finish descending into the alley before it unhinged, bringing another slab of wall down with it. More debris crumbled off the building, the plaster and lathe giving way like a loose scab of skin over the bricks.

She heard the goons shouting whoops and hollers as the flames reached higher and engulfed the beautifully sad building. They knew her only route was towards the main street. She'd have to face them eventually and they knew it, waiting her out as if smoking out a hare from its rabbit hole.

But something was still calling to her.

As she kicked along the broken ground, she listened harder to the tugging in her mind and heart, holding the last trinket she had from her former life in her palm. The beautiful slave collar reflected her face a dozen different ways in the surrounding firelight, due to the cracks running across its surface. She would miss her friends: the childishness of Willow and free-spirited nature of Beatrix, even the callous sarcasm of Ginger. She'd have to leave it all behind.

"I have to."

She found a gaping sewer drain with edges heaped over with trash, snot-colored sludge dripping down into an unknown abyss. It was there she let the collar slip free from her fingers, allowing it to fall into the depths, forgotten.

She prepared to head into the main street, her heartbeats pulsing in her throat as she faltered in the alley. The thing that was drawing her stole her attention, as if her awaiting assailants were mere annoyances by comparison to it's pull. That thing began to call harder.

She was distraught, but followed the feeling until she staggered back a step in surprise. She suddenly saw a large man, not one of the well-dressed goons, covered in a thick blanket of rubble on the ground. And several feet in front of him there was a satchel, purse-like and splayed open, ripped along a seam. Out from the bag and laying on the ground, like a brand new sparkling toy, was a wand.

She bent down, the voice in her mind hypnotizing her to reach for it, screaming into her heart as if she was meant to –

She couldn't resist the voices anymore and so she proceeded to pick the wand. At that instant her fingers locked around the handle of the wand.

[coklatcasinoonline-blog]

Baccarat Online Gambling Provides Higher Rates of Return

Your best bet for casino gambling is playing online. Online Casinos offer better than Vegas odds, deposit matches, convenience and a broader selection of games. There is a higher level of competition between these casinos because of the ease of moving between them. They are competing not merely with each other, but with land based casinos. Online casinos do not need the large overhead of land based casinos and this savings is handed down to the player.

Online casinos do not need the expenses of traditional casinos. Lavish Vegas casinos with neon lights, multimillion dollar lobbies and dancing fountains are nice, but someone has to cover them. Cyber Baccarat Online seem like small office buildings with 10 or 12 employees. Their largest expenses are licensing the casino software and monitoring for fraudulent activities.

Traditional casinos will raise table minimums and offer fewer high paying slot machines during peak hours. There is limited competition and they've a captive audience. If the amount of players looking for lower limit tables and higher paying slot machines became great enough a new Casino Online would eventually fill this need. Here is the law of supply and demand. In cyberspace this luxury doesn't exist. The ease of opening a new online casino to fill a void makes this practice impossible.

In 2002, the United States Court of Appeals decided that the Federal Wire Act applies simply to online sports betting and never to games of chance. This legalized online casino gambling for US players. However, it did not make it legal to open an on the web casino within the United States. It is very difficult to gather taxes on winnings from online casinos, because they're based outside the United States. They don't report winnings to the IRS and this has turned into a point of contention with both opponents and proponents of allowing US casinos to open online casinos.

In a reaction to the inability to gather taxes the US Government has but many restrictions on the banking industry. These restrictions include coding online casino deposits and not allowing them from 13 states. The states that not allow credit card deposits to online casinos are Michigan, Illinois, Louisiana, Oregon, Washington, Wisconsin, Indiana, Nevada, South Dakota, New Jersey and New York. Banks and players quickly found that anonymous prepaid debit cards were the way around this.

Online casinos offer deposit match bonuses. These bonuses are largest on initial deposits. Many online casinos will double your initial deposit as much as around $1,000. Some will continue to double, or at least match a share of, your first few deposits. This is performed in hopes that after the player has put up their account it will soon be easier just to continue playing at the exact same casino. Since there are just a few proven software packages, most online casinos are extremely similar. Those who have put up their own software are often never as secure. The match bonuses raise your odds and extend the quantity of time you will spend playing with the exact same level of money. Overall the bigger payout percentages, match bonuses and ease of lacking to visit make online gambling and better bet than planing a trip to a casino.

[reportstore]

AI is turning consumer goods brands into tech ones – and customers into R&D

AI is changing numerous industries dangerously fast, and the area of quick consumer goods is no exemption.

Artificial intelligence, all the more usually known as AI, is transforming numerous industries dangerously fast. The area of quick consumer goods (FMCG) is no special case. The universe of consumer bundled goods sold rapidly and economically is being changed by technology that, while not necessarily inexpensive, can set aside cash through the quick computerization of cycles and workflows.

To explain what's going on, how about we take a gander at the association between machine learning and Coca Cola vending machines. The bubbly drink behemoth today offers 4,000 drink choices through the main Coke business and various brands it possesses. A long time back, 165 of those refreshments started to be presented in a touchscreen vending machine called the Coca-Cola Free-form, which allowed consumers an opportunity to blend and-match Coke branded items. A celebrated soft drink fountain, the Free-form machine could present to 200 variations on these items, mixing and dispensing drinks as required.

The masterpiece was that these machines were cloud-associated and AI-empowered. Information was being gathered on what kind of combinations clients were ordering from the Free-form and utilized by Coca-Cola for market research for future items. From this cycle was conceived cherry-enhanced Sprite, an extremely durable and popular expansion to the brand's mammoth drink range.

Stories like this show why consumer goods is investing vigorously in AI. As a new GlobalData topical research on AI in consumer goods reports, worldwide AI stage income in consumer goods will develop from $1.2bn in 2019 to reach $3.5bn by 2024. This is over the market normal of 20.8% that GlobalData predicts for a similar period of time.

For consumer goods, AI is quick becoming a method for utilizing its information proficiently and figure out what items their clients need, nearly skipping conventional Research and development organizes totally.

Delightful machinations in consumer goods Smart vending machines aren't the main information hungry gadgets that prowl among customers. In the case of something is computerized, then gathering data is capable. Snare it online and that information can be shared. Allow machine intelligence to examine that information and even the calmest highstreet turns out to be part of the AI revolution.

It's not just drink brands who are benefitting from AI and client interaction. Excellence brands are likewise among the greatest innovators in FMCG, with a large number of them combining AI with the similarly advertised tech of expanded reality .

L'Oréal's expanded reality (AR) brand Modiface offers devices to help both online and offline clients find the right item for their particular skin and hair necessities. In-store screens twofold as advanced cosmetics mirrors, using AR to apply various shades progressively. This is made conceivable by AI-fueled examination of information given by cosmetics brands and L'Oréal's photograph data set of 6,000 clinical pictures.

Because of Coronavirus restricting in-store discussions, various magnificence organizations are additionally investing in AI and AR. Startups like Nudest are using AI to find the right item for consumers regardless of skin tone, trained on selfies sent in by volunteers of all skin tones. Nudest's Nudemeter device has since been taken on by brands, for example, Naked Barre and Spktrm Magnificence to match client to item skillfully. Any holes in the market for those with less-provided food skin tones will prompt new items, echoing the Coca-Cola Free-form try.