#Mercury Marine Parts

[nauticalmarine]

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[yaseraphine]

pick a card - who is crushing on you ?

This is a reading I did back in April of this year. I made it with the energy of the Taurus new moon. Hope it resonates <3

PILE SELECTION :

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

/!\ DISCLAIMER /!\ (for all the delulus - here's your anti-delulu pill)

A tarot reading is supposed to give guidance based on your current energies, it is NEVER a replacement for therapy. It shouldn't dictate your life choices but more so guide you while making the choices. At the end of the day, you are the master of your soul and destiny. Remember that you have all the power and the free will to take the actions you want. Use discernment . Also remember : energies shift, a reading might resonate with you today but not tomorrow.

PILE 1

song - Ah W Noss by Nancy Ajram

Possible astrological placements :

Heavy Aquarius energy, heavy air and earth energy, Sun moon or mercury in aquarius (especially moon); Sun in Taurus, Venus in Aries, Mars in Aquarius / Aries, Capricorn rising ; Taurus, Aquarius and Aries personal planets; Chiron in the 4th house / the 10th house

Physical appearance : slightly under 6 ft , dark eye color, probably has eyebags or , looks mad 24/7, straight dark brown hair or jet black hair ; appears judgmental asf. might be skinny but still kind of muscular, has a visible scar on their face around their eyebrows or eyes or lips,

They dress casually , I see a lot of sportswear, neutral color, black, gray, white and maybe beige or marine blue

Tarot cards : 9 of swords, 10 of Pentacles, The Magician, The Tower, King of Pentacles, 3 of swords, Page of Pentacles, Ace of swords

MBTI : INTJ, INFJ, ISTJ

Who is this person ?

HUGE overthinker, career oriented, hard worker, well known in their field but prefer to work in the shadows, top grader, highly critical of themself and of other people, plans everything, a mastermind, ambitious, sharp mind, introvert, lowkey anti-social, overtly sensitive, might be in college, pursuing a master's degree; might be their last year as an undergrad, anxiety disorder, really anxious and sensitive to the outside world, a loner, might just hangout with 3 people max and they're always seeing together in the hallways or in the school's library, intimidating exterior, people are scared to approach them because they think they will disturb their peace lmao, deep voice, barely speaks, fierceful look, don't talk much, undercover hopeless romantic, might watch a lot of rom-com or romance K-dramas, might read slice of life romance oriented manhwas , watches anime, probably went on several friends trips to tokyo, kyoto, and bangkok with his friends.

Probably has a lot of family problems, is the "man of the family", has a part time job either as a waiter or something related to their field of study.

During lectures, either sits in the front or at the far back (to be in peace lol) and is really concentrated on the class, isn’t scared to asked questions even when there are a hundred students in the amphitheater looking at them

Might be a bit conservative or just religious, possibly muslim

might be a minimalist, a digital minimalist (James Scholz vibes)

Ethnicities/ Race : korean, pakistani, chinese, vietnamese, indian, afghan,arabic, north african,...

The effect you have on them ? 

This crush shocked them to their core. As they were on their way to become the King of Pentacles, you came and made all their plans crumble.

I feel like love is their blind spot and whenever they develop some type of feelings for people everything around them breaks down. They might have Venus in the 6th house or Venus in the 8th house, or Pluto might be aspecting their venus on their natal chart. I feel like they might have had a traumatic love experience when they were in middle school/ freshman year of highschool that left them deeply hurt and created deep emotional wounds. They’re still traumatized from this experience and them having a crush on you is sadly reopening their wounds and it’s obviously so triggering. Despite the fact that this crush is hurting them, they know it’s also healing them in a way ? Like their heart is not completely dead and in shambles and will not be forever. I am hearing "Your heart is broken , not permanently shattered.”

How do you appear to them ? How do they see you ? 

You appear peaceful to them. You might be an INFJ, ENFJ , INTP, ISFP or ISFJ.

You might have Virgo, Pisces or Libra placements (sun, moon, mercury, venus, rising,..). You could have 3rd/9th house placements, Moon in the 3rd or 4th house. You could be a scorpio or capricorn rising. You probably have 1st house, 6th house and 8th house synastry with them. (even 12th house for some)

You might have at some point awkwardly smiled at them in the school halls or library and it left a mark on them. They probably think about it often. Whenever they think about you, they can feel themselves calming down, slowing down. They’re probably really busy and therefore always stressed out but when you cross their mind, they can feel the stress disappearing for a short period of time.

They see you as a more relaxed version of themselves. They see you as being someone who is content with being alone. You could be a popular loner like you’re really well liked but you still enjoy doing your own thing. You probably are similar to them and they see that. They see the mirroring of you both. You have a really similar energy as this person and they sense it. But you’re much more confident, or content and laid-back/ chill than them and I think they kind of envy you for that.

You’re represented by the 9 of pentacles while they’re represented by the 10 of pentacles on their way to become a King of pentacles. Despite the fact that you’re “behind” them in the race of life, you don’t seem to be freaking out about it. Instead, they see you taking it easy. You’re taking your time because you have this deep trust in the Universe that everything happens in time and for a reason. They don’t understand how you’re able to just go with the flow while also  having somewhat of a plan and a pretty clear direction on where your life is headed.

PILE 2 (slight 18+ stuff)

song - GOOD LOYAL THOTS by Odetari / EYES ON ME by Asteria

Possible astrological placements : 

Cancer rising for men, Virgo risings for woman/non-binary, Venus in Libra, Venus in Aquarius, Mercury in Libra, Moon in Pisces/Scorpio/Cancer, Moon in Virgo, 5th house placements, 7th house placements, the asteroid lilith (1181) could be prominent/ significant in their chart. 10th/4th house placements. Libra, Sagittarius and Cancer placements. Could be born in late November.

Physical appearance : if it’s a man : looks like those bad boys in these dark romance novels, 2019 e-boy/girl/enby vibes, angelic eyes, looks kind of innocent in a way, similar eyes to troye sivan (not necessarily the colour but just the energy they give). No matter their gender, they just look really androgenous, really nice and warm smile, rodrick heffley vibes, carrington vibes (the content creator)

Ethnicity/ race : If this person identifies themselves as male then they might be half white half latino (esp mexican) or fully white (i am getting english, american or even german some italian blood even). If not, then they could be any ethnicities honestly but I am heavily picking up on White (Eastern Europe), American. They could look really racially ambigous. Could be half asian (filipino or thai/ viet heavy) and white (icelandic, german, eastern europe in general)

Tarot cards : 4 of swords, 2 of Wands, Queen of Cups, 2 of Cups, The Emperor, 7 of pentacles, 10 of swords,  Ace of Wands

MBTI : this one is hard to pick up one exactly the energy is a bit too “mutable” in a way but I’d say surely an IXXP or EXXJ type. Picking up especially on INTP, ISTP, ENFJ or ENTJ

Who is this person ? 

Could be any ethnicities honestly, any gender, probably non-binary, trans, or just do not label themselves

Activist for LGBTQ+ rights, if they’re a man probably bisexual, feminist, anti-specist, probably anarchist > for sure politically inclined and left winged, even far left or marxist for some 

Might enjoy philosophy, history, metaphysics, poetry, travelling 

In their 20s, probably really young / I am getting 17/18/19 years old, if they go to college they probably are really popular on campus.

Might play the guitar, the drums, listen to indie music, indie rock, hyper pop, Artsy, paint their nails black, nails often painted with chipped nail polish, probably enjoys painting, cinema

They LOOOVE getting attention, compliments, being the center of attention. They are probably really charismatic and a lot of people tend to crush on them and they cling to them/ get addicted to their energy/aura. They’re really magnetic, a true charmer, a smooth operator, a smooth talker. I’ll be fully honest though , they are probably in their fuckboy/girl/enby era. Probably sleeps around, goes to parties every week. They’re probably always surrounded by women or generally speaking feminine energies LOOOVE them like they get addicted to them (especially true if they’re a man). Probably a womanizer too.

People might assume that they’re reckless and only there for a good time, not a long time. They are kind of the talk of the town. People see them as smart, artistic. People consistantly gossip about them and their every move, might also make terrible and false assumptions on them. Despite their f*ckboy/girl/enby traits they are deep down really sweet and sensitive. They honeslty hope to find their true love one day, they just have some kind of attachment issues that makes it hard for them to trust and settle. For now, I don’t think they're ready to delve into them (the attachment issues) yet. (it’s giving mother wounds and daddy issues lol)

Always attached to messy situationships/ friends with benefits situations, messy breakups, crazy exes, revenge,...

They're really nonchalant, cool dude vibes “you know i am a cool guy you can trust me”; probably thinks they understand women and the “female nature” (HELP-) “I understand women, I understand emotions,..” vibes

Generally don’t really walk the talk lmaoo (they’re kind of a p*ssy that pretends to be tough, too cool for school lol), light skin energy HEAVY, actually really funny and empathetic, really sweet too

The effect you have on them ? 

I’ll say it, they’re probably too prideful to come to you lol They’re used to people approaching them first. That's how almost all of their relationships started. They probably are like : I am attracted to pile 2 and I have the situation in control. They will probably come up to me like everyone else does anyways so it’s fine, no need to make the first move (the sagittarian ego lord -). They probably like you because they think  you’re naive, innocent and their paternalistic/ manspreading tendencies might tickle a bit for that reason. They assume you’re some kind of pure angel, and that you don’t know much about the world. They see you as a Page of Cups or Queen of Cups when really you are a High Priestess. You just pretend to be clueless/ or not as perceptive to protect your peace. They want to protect you and take you to outside world. Take you to art exhibitions, while they manspread their knowledge about a specific art movement and they imagine you being impressed by how perceptive and educated they are. (they don't have to be a man to manspread just to clarify lol). To be honest, they have a deep desire for recognition and it shows in what they imagine doing with you.

Honestly, they underestimate you quite a bit. You’re so much smarter than you appear to be .

I have a hard time knowing what kind of effect you have on them since they seem so self focused. You just feed their desire to provide and protect. This desire might come from some kind of daddy issues or complicated relationship with their masculinity/masculine side.

How do you appear to them ? How do they see you ? +18 stuff here

As I said above, they see you as a "princess" to be saved, an angel. They probably think you’re too pure for this world, that you’re "vanilla", innocent. They really like your body. They probably scrutinize it a lot looking at every curve. They love your chest area and your thighs/butt. Honestly, it’s getting really sexual lol They probably have a lot of dirty thoughts about you, dominating you but not in a mean way, really soft dom vibes. They would love to see you in pink/white lacy lingerie / really sweet lolita vibes (the japanese style). I won’t elaborate further on the 18+ description but just know they're really imaginative lol They also see you as really sweet and caring . They think you’re really selfless and empathetic. In their eyes, you seem to be really emotionally intelligent. If you’re hyper feminine or petite THEY LOVE IT.

PILE 3

song - Feelin' Myself by will.i.am ft. Miley Cyrus, Wiz Khalifa, French Montana, DJ Mustard / French Montana's verse especially

/!\ While tapping with the energy, your resistance to this person was HEAVY. You probably know exactly who this person is and you probably are annoyed that they seem to follow you everywhere, even in a random tarot reading on Tumblr lmaoo I am so sorry for you. This reading could trigger you, annoy you or make your eyes roll, just to warn you.

Possible astrological placements : Libra rising, Leo rising, Sun, Moon, Venus and/or Mars in Leo, probably have many placements between the first and the 5th house, heavy on the 1st house, 3rd house and 2nd house, Gemini Sun or Venus, Mercury, cancer placements

Physical appearance : probably dresses like a 2013/2014 rapper (lmaoo sorryy guys), ages - 25 / but strong late 30s early 40s, millennial loser vibes (help-), ear piercing, eyebrow arch piercing, likes to wear Grillz, they’re probably not very tall like around 1m69 to 1m76 or something (5,5 ft, 5.7 ft). They could be skinny or just slim.

Ethnicity/ race : I know the moodboard only showcases black men, but I am picking up they could just as well be asian or White, arabic,...

Tarot cards : 3 of cups, The Emperor, 7 of Pentacles, The Sun, 4 of Pentacles,

MBTI : ESFP, ESFJ, ENFP, ENTP, 

Who is this person ? 

Their name could start with a P, Patrick, Peter, could have a similar vibe to Peter Kavinsky from To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before for some.

For a minority of you, they are still a student in college probably majoring in Business or economy. Probably skips many lectures, classes.

For most of you though, they are a real grown adult, who has taxes to pay and works either part time or full time at the same job as you.

You could work at a store like a 7/11 or just stores that you find in gas stations, or something like that.

You might meet them, see them at work and you probably find them annoying as hell. You think they’re childish and that they should grow tf up. They’re probably older than you which makes their immature behavior even more embarrassing. You probably see them as a scrub or a manchild (ain’t shit by doja at is coming up they really get on your nerves lmaoo). They probably hit on you the first day at your job and they never really stopped 

Always comes at work late, prefers to have fun, doesn’t like having too many responsibilities, doesn’t like rigidity, always cracking a joke, the clown of the class vibes, super extraverted, loud, really good on the dancefloor, might go to the club every week, doesn’t have much going on in their life, does the bare minimum at work, unstable financially, doesn’t have any career ambition, culture vultures, they remind me of the Miley Cyrus and Justin Bieber lightskin era, they love alcohol, hennessy, malibu,..

Really popular in your local community, probably has at least 500 followers on insta but I am picking it’s more than that like 1500 and plus, super active on social media, probably has snapchat, posts stories almost on a daily basis, they are known at work to crack jokes, loves 90s/old school rap, gangsta rap, 90’s RnB, jodeci, Boys II Men,  probably a sneakerhead,  that’s random but they might be attracted to milfs or women with character lmaoo, a millennial that hangs out with gen zers (help-), eternal teenage boy type of energy, childlike spirit, nice, really likeable, social butterfly, you just can’t hate them, might be the type of person to sing out loud randomly.

The effect you have on them ? 

They like you. They like the fact that you are hard to get. They love the chase. I think they’re attracted to the duality of your respective personalities. It’s probably an opposites attract type of situation in their head. They like your black cat energy. The effect you have on them is that you just entertain them in a way. They like the chase, the adrenaline that comes with it and since you’re guarded they see it as a good challenge. 

How do you appear to them ? How do they see you ? 

You might be an ISTJ, or INTJ. You might have Capricorn, Aquarius, Virgo or Taurus placements. You might be a Taurus rising. I am picking up too that you hate loud people and attention seekers. You probably don’t like dependent and clingy people too. You probably have a really cutthroat and no bullshit energy that they love (and lowkey find amusing they like to annoy you but in a flirty way that’s just the way they flirt I think). They think you’re too serious for your own good. You’re probably working part time while you’re still in college and they think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. They think you should slow down and just enjoy the moment, live in the moment and let loose. They think you smell good, always look clean and put together. They see you as high maintenance. You’re probably like the high maintenance era of Saweetie. Icy Grl vibes (go to check the music video of this song this might be your exact vibes). They see you as a diva but not in a derogatory sense, they  actually like it. It’s giving Mariah Carey and Eminem's dynamic lol (enemies to lovers orr 👀 (i know you just gave me the biggest bombastic side eye lmaoo sorry)). “Boy why are you so obsessed with me?” but you’re like really mad and fed up lmaoo

Literally you : you're giving goddess energy ✨ go get your bag sis as you should the dusties don't even deserve to breath the same air as you period.💅

remember guys : stay blessed <3 (and happy spooky season hehe best season of the year anyone who disagrees you can argue with the wall)

[moodymisty]

*awkward cough*

Mother, I crave luna wolves smut.

(this is my first time sending someone a request *internal panic* so bare with me)

(I'm thinking about the luna wolves bullying a surf fic that you did and now have brainrot.)

Like, imagine being my height (5'1) and having a big "mean" astartes fully aware that I'm sooo horny I'm loosing my mind.

And something about space marines that I can't stop thinking about is how they smell. Like the amount of testosterone.. Their sent has to be immensely horny inducing for a female.

Like- damn. Gigantic, absolutely shredded, smug ass smile and, teasing comments, absolute bastard of a super human. Asking you to do stuff that requires a lot more physical closeness than normal. Getting absolutely wrecked by the astartes smell(TM).

Eventually deciding to "help each other out" hot and heavy Make outs, grinding, humping, neck kisses and neck bites, the absolute WETness, SERIOUS man handling..

Jeez sorry I'm so down bad. Feel free to ignore me lol.

Big fan of your writing, hope you're doing well.

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: i am unhinged. Decided to make an actual Luna wolf oc for this one just cause. This idea is my fucking jam but for some reason I had a lot of trouble with this one, I think it's just because I'm getting a bit burnt out finishing the last of the requests. I hope you still enjoy.

Relationships: Artyom(Luna Wolf OC)/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mild NSFW, Grinding, Groping, Some mild manhandling

“Careful.”

The Thunderhawk shakes as the air cools during its ascent, and Artyom puts a hand on your shoulder to steady you in your seat. You don’t have any risk for falling over, but he still does it anyways. You look up at him and give him a small nod in thanks.

The other refugees however are largely fending for themselves, grouped close together and muttering amongst themselves.

You don’t mind not being part of it. You barely know any of them; And throughout this entire ordeal, you've found yourself growing closer to Artyom than any of them. He doesn’t seem to mind, and if anything, seems to find it amusing. During the few times you’d see him wander through the base he’d always make a point to call you out, say hello before returning to his duties.

The other refugees found it odd. While Astartes are respected and admired, being in their attention isn’t seen as the most positive. They are mercurial and unpredictable on the best of days, intimating masses of muscle that can kill with ease; And enjoy doing so.

Artyom is an oddity among the Luna Wolves, to enjoy poking at a human. Even if it's only one, and he regains his stoic, almost sleepy expression when barking orders at any of the others.

Once the Thunderhawk docks into the landing bay of the battlebarge, everyone makes their way off. The Astartes leave silently other than an apothecary who ushers the refugees along to where they’ll stay before being placed. More than likely the first Imperium port they come across, where they'll become the Imperium Guard's logistical problem.

You move to follow along with them, assuming that will be your place, but Artyom grabs you before you have the chance. His hand claps your shoulder, nearly painfully heavy from the size and weight of his gauntlet.

“Come with me instead.”

You look up at him before following closely, halls rapidly becoming filled with only Astartes. They all look curiously at you, as if wondering what a baseline human is doing in this area. Clearly they're not used to them being here. You continue following Artyom anyways however and try to ignore the questioning gazes, until he pulls you inside a room filled with armoring equipment.

“Here. Hold this while I remove my armor.” He hands you his knife, while his bolter and rifle go on a rack made specifically for them. The knife clearly has more sentimental value, you assume.

“Why did you have me follow you?”

You say, holding the knife tight as machines slowly peel away plate after plate of ceramite. It's such an odd thing to see, watching him go slowly from a near machine in massive armor to something you would consider more human; Even if still very different.

“Those refugees are going into the serfs quarters until we pass by a human settled world. It will be a tight fit.”

The material of his black skinsuit is revealed bit by bit, until no armor remains. Your hands tighten around the handle of the large knife. The suit leaves nothing to the imagination as the name implies, stretching over his entire body other than his upper neck and face, and interface ports.

“So I won’t stay down there? Where will I sleep then?” You feel disrespectful for asking, you should be thankful his legion even bother to saved you. Artyom however seems to find no intentional disrespect, or at least doesn't point any out.

“You can stay in my quarters. Unless you would prefer the serfs.”

Slowly he starts to peel away his black skinsuit, revealing bare skin. The farther down it peels away- neck, collar bone, chest, hips- the farther down it drops the more you force your eyes to remain at strictly shoulder height and higher.

Once everything is removed, he pushes his shoulder blades together and they let out a crack, flexing his shoulders and chest. You swallow a knot in your throat, the knife being strangled in your hands.

“Hmm?”

Artyom hums, grabbing one of the sets of trousers and pulling them on. You shake your head and try to dispel thoughts you are sure would get you into an unspeakable amount of trouble away.

“Oh, nothing. I'm sorry.”

Now dressed you can worry less about your eyes wandering to places they shouldn't, but not completely; the waistline of his trousers exposing a good portion of his hips and lower stomach. You hope he didn't catch the way your eyes lingered on the v of his hips for a bit longer than they should have.

He walks closer, closer enough that you have to take a step back. He gives his neck a crack, and for a moment you wonder if the armor is that intensive on them; In it they never seem to mind, almost as if it's a second skin.

“Are you sure? Your heart is loud.”

He can hear it? You're throat tightens; You wonder what else he can hear. Can he hear your ragged breathing? The way your blood is thumping in your ears and downward between your legs.

“Oh, I just… A lot has happened. It's a lot to think about.” Artyom gives a gentle, sleepy smirk, and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Do not worry. You are safe with me.”

Perhaps from physical dangers; but your mind is now a battleground between common sense and base instinct.

The way his shoulders make your body seem so frail, towering over you. The way his muscles stretch across his neck, his collarbone, the smooth taughtness of his stomach drifting into the v of his hips.

And perhaps he may not smell the nicest in first impression, there’s something underneath it that is oddly, not terrible. You find yourself swallowing a large knot in your throat as he looks down at you, his smirk shifting the taught skin of his facial scars. You skin feel like it's on fire, like you're boiling from the outside in, and you swear you've never felt this aroused in your entire life. The way you feel like your cunt has an actual heartbeat.

"You must still be quite unsettled, if your heart is still racing."

He steps closer, putting a hand on your shoulder; Though it's large enough that it pushes against the crook of your neck. He squeezes it just a bit, and you try to resist letting out an audible hitch in your breath.

"I'm fine, really. I thank you for your concern, though. It means a lot coming from you."

You feel like you're beginning to sweat, and your lower body feels tight and hot. You squeeze your thighs together subtly and instantly you can tell you're getting wet.

Artyom takes a step closer, and you didn't realize how close you were to the wall until your back presses against it and you're near entirely consumed in shadow. The armoring room is quite small, you can only assume because the battlebarge lacks the size of their larger ships.

"You are not a good liar," He says, his smile changing form. "I can smell you."

His hand moves from your shoulder to around your waist, easily able to cover a significant portion with how large it is.

"It took me a bit, to realize what that smell was whenever you were around me."

You don't suppose that's surprising; Being an astartes is surely a secluded fate, without much room for fraternizing. And the smell of someone being so aroused is probably unique and quite subtle, not an easily explainable thing.

He pulls your body forcing you to arch your back towards him, shoulders still against the wall. Your hands press against his body, and you can feel the overwhelming stuffy heat of his skin. He's nearly naked with only his trousers, yet he still feels like he has the body heat of a man who's just run for miles and miles.

His other hand also wraps around your waist, and you feel his fingers pushing up against the bottom of your chest.

It's bit awkward for him to lean down closer to you with his size, but it's easier when he forces his knee between your legs, rising you to your tiptoes. The feeling sends jolts of sensation right up your spine, and your cunt throbs. It's a intentional, painful act to not grind yourself against his thigh like you were desperate, no matter how in reality it was true.

"You're so small," He jokes, shadowing you. "Do you think you could even help me remove and put on my armor with those little hands of yours?"

His lips ghost over yours, the bow of his lip brushing against yours as he teases you. You can't help the way your hips twitch forward slightly, ever so subtly grinding against him as he moves in to kiss you. During so, his hands slide down from your waist to your hips, and forces you to push down on his thigh harder, as well as raising his knee up against the wall just a bit more to force your weight even more on him. His leg is still barely bent however; He could easily take your feet all the way off the ground if he wanted.

His hands grip your hips tightly and force you to grind against his thigh, causing you to moan and whimper. Your hands grip his own body weakly, leaning forward into him and pressing your face into his collarbone. You can feel the heat and hardness of his cock against your leg, and your cunt keeps tensing around a disappointing emptiness at the thought.

You want it so unbelievably bad. You would do just about anything for it. You don't care who hears or who sees, you just want him inside of you and you'll be more than willing to beg and plead and cry for it.

His lips pull away from yours, lips swollen and well kissed. You feel your spit mixed with your own against them.

"Be my personal serf. It'll be a far better life than whatever a refugee's will be, where ever you and your fellow humans end up."

You can't deny what he says is true. But the lust-driven cloud fogging your mind is more than a significant contributor to the 'yes' that you utter to him. It makes his smirk wider, and his eyes darker.

"Would I, still stay in your quarters?" His hands still grip your hips tightly as you speak breathlessly, trying to whimper and grind yourself against him further.

"There's serf's quarters right next my own I can requisition just for you." His lips move from your mouth to your neck, pressing against the pulse point just below your right ear.

"But if you'd rather stay in my own, I won't complain."

[jyeshindra]

Astrolovations (I)

Hey there! Just noting down some things I observe and connections I make regarding astrology. And yes, I made up a new word. Deal with it.

You can always spot an Aquarius by that look in their eye and a half smile. Like they're judging you, studying you, and experiencing you all at the same time.

More feminine Aquarians give me cool-girl vibes. They're detached and kind of removed from things, but super chill at the same time. Friendly and open but they have and will express their boundaries.

The more masculine Aquarians can fit that stubborn, know-it-all Aquarian stereotype a bit better. These more unhealed Aquarians are so difficult. Fixed air? Saturn and Uranus dominance? This is not a person who will follow other people's rules. A frustrating energy for sure. I dare say it's giving asshole. LOL

Sagittarius and Gemini make a good duo, but these signs are likely to solely be intellectual. Neither sign is very good at feeling. They aren't emotional! And they may talk about emotions...sure! But don't be fooled!

The most important thing to a Sagittarius Moon? Their freedom! They won't do well in relationships where the other is constantly telling them how to live their life and making critical analyses. Remember this sign is half-man and half-beast. That lower half wants to frolick and go wherever it wishes! If it feels pinned down or caged, it'll fight back or just disappear.

Taureans are always listening. These people are super wise and super knowledgeable but they won't be obvious about it like a Sagittarius or Gemini. It reminds me of how earth has this ability to hold things and fossilize things over time. Taurus kind of has this energy. I think it's the receptivity of Venus in Fixed Earth. AND that Scorpio opposition. Both of these signs are super observant and notice the little details. Their intuitive knowledge is gained from absorbing so much over time and letting that information marinate. It's how they both are able to create such amazing foundations for themselves.

I do believe in cuspy energy. But only cause Sidereal exists. A lottt of people are two different signs in two different systems. Cusps feel like the same sort of situation to me. But also...if you have your birth time you know which sign you fall under, which destroys the whole cusp argument.

I actually do kinda identify more with my Vedic chart than my Tropical chart. I see both energies, but my Pisces Sun/Scorpio Moon makes so much sense to me. Especially once I learned I'm Jyeshtha!

Speaking of Jyeshtha...the voices of these natives are usually distinguishable in some way. I think this may be Mercury-ruled nakshatras in particular (Ashlesha, Jyeshtha, Revati) but I can only feel strongly about Jyeshtha with this one. I mean Charlie Sheen...Donald Trump...even Nicki Minaj. The voices are so distinct. Even my Jyeshtha professor has a pretty distinct, raspy voice.

The way trauma has made certain aspects of my chart invisible to me. Part of what makes this practice so interesting to me is how much of my chart is waiting to be lit up by my own future. There's mysteries inside of me I haven't even met yet.

I think the last four zodiac moon signs (Cap, Pisces, Sag, and Aqua) can deal with their emotions in a very existential way. It's almost like they're thinking about their emotions in relationship to bigger/large concepts or constructs. Their perspective is already geared towards a "bigger picture" so to speak. They'll often handle their emotions in an impersonal way too. Aquarius will rationalize it, Capricorn will likely fall into pessimism or suppress it, Pisces may wallow and succumb to existential dread, Sagittarius will also intellectualize or avoid it altogether!

That's all for this round of observations! Stay tuned for the next edition.

[neptunedivine]

astro observations pt. ii

hi! I hope you’re doing well! I know it's been a while. I have a lot of things I wanna talk about. But for now, here are some observations I've noted since I've been gone. I hope you enjoy the read!

mutable signs and intelligence ✧ ALL MUTABLE PLACEMENTS SHOULD BE KNOWN FOR THEIR INTELLIGENCE. Since Virgo and Gemini are both ruled by mercury, I feel like this is a given. Sagittarius rules the 9H which controls higher education, so the same thing can be said for them. But then people throw Pisces under the bus…as if Virgo isn’t their sister sign. I feel like people see sister signs as opposites of each other, but in reality, they have their sister’s traits in subtlety.

As a Pisces sun and mercury myself, I understand the anxiety my Virgo homies get, it’s f*cking intense. But will I ever feel it full throttle? I don’t think so and I’m thankful for it.

But yeah, Pisces placements are not airheads, their smart too. I just think their intelligence is out of the ordinary or just not palatable like the other signs.

9H suns ✧ Kind of an addendum to my last bullet, but a lot of 9H and 12H sun celebrities are really smart. I’ve noticed this with Kendrick Lamar because he’s a 9H sun (in Gemini @ 9° -- damn), and he’s considered a conscious rapper (a subgenre of hip-hop that focuses on creating awareness and imparting knowledge). When I think of him, his words always have meaning, they’re not said just because. The same thing can be said about SZA (9H Scorpio sun @ 16°) and Frank Ocean (12H Scorpio sun 4°).

I'm noticing that they're both Scorpio suns at a Cancer degree, I might investigate that more in the future.

When they put out a project, I get annoyed when people immediately have a response (in all I think I get annoyed when this happens to any long-awaited album), because with the lyricism they have, let the words marinate. Their words are never just face value, there's always a deeper meaning.

SZA is also just smart period. She went on this little biology rant a couple of weeks ago. I was shocked but I loved it. Idk sometimes I forget that celebrities have other traits because they choose what they present to their audience and a lot of the time that isn’t intelligence.

✧ Do any other Pisces mercuries talk in funny voices or accents a lot? Like an unhealthy amount? Just me? Okay.

✧ Undeveloped Pisces placements want yes men to their delusions.

LGBTQIA+ ✧ Having mutable + Aquarius Venus/Mars placements and/or aspects could be an indicator of identifying as part of the LGBTQIA+ community. Mutable placements are used to changing their mind a lot, so when it comes to who they’re interested in, they might not have a fixed answer. With aqua placements, they’re not used to sticking to the traditional. So going against the grain with who they’re romantically/sexually involved with is a common manifestation.

mars-jupiter and clumsiness ✧ Those with Mars-Jupiter aspects can be clumsy. Maybe because Mars can rule the physical body and Jupiter expands, they may be overestimating their range of motion.

aries/1H mars and headaches ✧ These placements can be prone to headaches, yes because Mars rules the physical body and anger, and Aries rules the head. But you guys are also quick to anger, so you kind of set yourself up for it. Breathe please, I don’t like seeing you stressed out babes.

aries/scorpio placements and tattoos ✧ Speaking of Aries placements, Aries and Scorpio placements, in general, could like tattoos, whether they want some themselves, have them, or just like the look of them. I feel like Venus and Mars placements are attracted to those who have tattoos, while Mercury placements could have the desire to tattoo people/become tattoo artists. If you have Aries/Scoripo in your midheaven, this could be a good career for you!

that’s all for now! I hope you enjoyed the post, see you later!

[livingforstars]

Mariner's Mercury - December 17th, 1996.

"Mercury, the closest planet to the Sun, remains the most mysterious of the Solar System's inner planets. Hiding in the Sun's glare, it is a difficult target for Earth-bound observers. At the time, the only spacecraft to explore Mercury close-up was Mariner 10, which executed 3 flybys of Mercury in 1974 and 1975, surveying approximately 45% of its surface. Mariner 10 deftly manuevered to photograph part of the sunlit hemisphere during each approach, passed behind the planet, and continued to image the Sun-facing side as the spacecraft receded. Its highest resolution photographs recorded features approximately a mile across. A reprocessing of the Mariner 10 data resulted in this dramatic mosaic. Like the Earth's Moon, Mercury's surface shows the scars of impact cratering - the smooth vertical band and patches visible above represent regions where no image information is available."

[pearlprincess02]

norman fucking rockwell! by lana del rey (album astrology)

virgo sun in 4th house

norman fucking rockwell! by lana del rey embodies the essence of a virgo sun in the 4th house, radiating a core identity that is introspective, reflective, and deeply rooted in realism. this album’s central creative focus brings a careful, almost surgical analysis of the american dream, relationships, and vulnerability. like a virgo sun, it dissects flaws with a sharp eye, revealing truths through precise lyrics and raw imagery. set in the 4th house, it feels intimate and nostalgic, capturing moments of melancholy and longing for something deeper, as if lana is both cherishing and challenging her inner world. the album’s energy is honest and earthy, grounding listeners in emotions that feel lived-in, like memories or family stories shared in quiet moments at home. it’s an album that expresses itself with virgo’s critical sincerity, wrapped in the 4th house’s yearning for connection and roots.

“there’s somethin’ that i never knew− i wanted”

virgo moon in 4th house

with a virgo moon in the 4th house, norman fucking rockwell! pulls listeners into an emotional depth that feels both raw and quietly profound. the album’s mood is tinged with a delicate sadness, a bittersweet yearning for understanding and truth. the virgo moon here brings a deeply introspective, almost analytical tenderness to the lyrics, peeling back layers of love, disappointment, and hope with precision. there’s a calm, measured sensitivity that allows listeners to feel safe delving into their own vulnerabilities as they experience the music. in the 4th house, this emotional tone feels almost like home—like flipping through old photographs or contemplating memories that linger in familiar spaces. it creates an intimate, inward journey that speaks to our need for comfort, familiarity, and authenticity. this album connects with the listener’s inner world by revealing beauty in the mundane and inviting reflection on the fragility of love and dreams, grounding emotions in earthy realism while enveloping them in an aura of nostalgia.

“oh god, miss you on my lips; it’s me your little venice bitch; you’re in the yard, i light the fire; and as the summer fades away; nothing gold can stay”

gemini rising with gemini part of fortune in 1st house

as a gemini rising with the part of fortune in the 1st house, norman fucking rockwell! presents itself with a magnetic, curious allure that draws listeners in with wit, duality, and a playful edge. this album’s public image is vibrant, sharp, and intriguingly complex—embracing gemini’s charm and cleverness while hinting at deeper layers. its visual branding and aesthetic, from the album cover’s americana imagery to the videos’ nods to nostalgia and pop culture, feels effortless yet richly layered, as if it’s a conversation between past and present, reality and myth. the gemini rising energy brings an air of unpredictability and intrigue, inviting listeners to engage with lana’s world of contrasts and contradictions. marketing and imagery capture this dual spirit, creating a first impression that’s intellectual, charismatic, and ever so slightly mischievous, promising something both familiar and fresh. with the part of fortune here, there’s a sense of serendipity and luck, as if the album’s image effortlessly resonates with audiences and taps into the collective moment, making it memorable and instantly iconic.

“you lose your way, just take my hand; you’re lost at sea, then i’ll command your boat to me again; don’t look too far, right where you are, that’s where i am; i’m your man”

virgo mercury in 4th house

with mercury in virgo in the 4th house, the lyrical content of norman fucking rockwell! is sharp, introspective, and rooted in a deep sense of realism. the lyrics carry the precision and detail of virgo, revealing moments and emotions with a clear, almost unfiltered honesty. mercury’s influence here creates storytelling that is thoughtful and reflective, dissecting themes of love, loss, and disillusionment with an analytical edge that feels both sincere and grounded. each line feels meticulously crafted, offering an unembellished look at vulnerability and truth, as if capturing fragments of a diary or intimate conversations. placed in the 4th house, the album’s communication style feels personal and nostalgic, connecting with listeners on a soulful level as it explores themes tied to home, belonging, and the complexities of inner life. the intellectual themes are nuanced and subtle, inviting listeners to look deeper, to examine the flaws and hidden beauty in relationships and in the american dream, through lyrics that are poetic yet accessible. mercury in virgo here gives the album a voice that’s precise, thoughtful, and capable of sparking introspection, drawing listeners into lana’s world with a sense of quiet depth.

“there’s things i wanna say to you; but i’ll just let you live; like if you hold me without hurting me; you’ll be the first who ever did”

virgo venus in 4th house

with venus in virgo in the 4th house, norman fucking rockwell! embodies a refined, understated beauty that is both nostalgic and hauntingly intimate. the album’s aesthetic feels grounded and meticulous, capturing moments of love, longing, and heartbreak with a sense of elegance that avoids excess and embraces subtlety. venus in virgo brings a careful attention to harmony, with melodies and arrangements that feel earthy and almost vintage, drawing listeners into a world that’s as comforting as it is melancholic. each song feels like it’s been crafted with care, balancing raw emotion with an appreciation for simplicity and detail. in the 4th house, this aesthetic takes on a deeply personal, home-like quality, evoking images of cherished memories, quiet rooms, and intimate spaces. romantic themes within the album resonate with a sense of authenticity and vulnerability, exploring love not through grand gestures but through the quiet, often imperfect moments that make relationships real. this placement gives norman fucking rockwell! a timeless, nostalgic charm, creating a listening experience that feels like returning to something familiar yet emotionally stirring.

“but, at best, i can say i’m not sad; ’cause hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have; hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have”

virgo mars in 4th house

with mars in virgo in the 4th house, norman fucking rockwell! channels an energy that is both quietly intense and precisely controlled. the album’s drive feels measured yet purposeful, much like the meticulous nature of virgo itself. while there is no overt aggression or overt boldness, the music conveys an undercurrent of tension and quiet determination. mars in Virgo imbues the album with a sense of practical passion, as though the energy behind each track is carefully calculated, yet not without emotion. the pace of the album moves with intention, never rushed but always purposeful, drawing the listener into its rhythm with a steady, almost meditative cadence. the intensity is subtle—passionate, yes, but expressed through careful restraint and precision. in the 4th house, the drive is tied to a desire for emotional truth and inner security, as if the music is a way of navigating personal reflection, confronting past wounds, and seeking peace within. the assertiveness here is grounded, never too forceful, but rather commanding through its quiet vulnerability and introspection.

“is it safe to just be who we are?”

all observations are done by me !!! @pearlprincess02

main masterlist

[nehswritesstuffs]

a good son, a better person

4969 words; for @gendervapor14, for whom I wanted to write this for their birthday, but it’s hella late, so Happy Belated Birthday and Merry Early Christmas; I often wonder about the psychology behind people like Sengoku bc it’s just so interesting how they compartmentalize things; I would recommend reading the original story this is derived from, as this is supposed to be a companion piece (the gist of it is it’s an AU where Corazón and Bell-mère live and then raise their canon foundlings (plus Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo) in Cocoyasi); might get a bit more edited further on but don’t expect much

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sengoku glanced over at the little boy sleeping soundly on his office couch, the lad completely tuckered out from the day he’d had. He had found him outside Mary Geoise, sobbing his eyes out and hungry, and he felt as though he’d had no choice but to take him in or else he would starve. The child had eaten two adults’ worth of food before falling asleep, completely ignoring the adults in the room.

“This is going to backfire,” Tsuru said calmly. She and Garp were there in their old friend’s office, having came immediately once they heard the news about the foundling. While she seemed to be there in empathy, all Garp was doing was eating rice crackers in glee.

“Brat’s a Fallen Dragon,” Garp scoffed. “The big bosses are gonna be pissed.”

“He’s just a boy,” Sengoku frowned. “He didn’t ask for this.”

“Whether he asked for it or not is not part of the equation and you know it,” Tsuru reminded him. She seemed so calm, despite the fact it was clear the boy wrapped up in the Admiral’s coat was putting her on-edge; both her comrades knew her long enough to be aware of that. “What happens when they decide they want him dead?”

“They wouldn’t want that… they don’t even want to look at him…”

“…and they might solve that risk by wanting him out of the equation for good.” Tsuru sighed and shook her head. “One of your worst enemies is not a Celestial Dragon, but their memory, not to mention their mercurial whims.”

“They’re so self-absorbed they can’t remember if they shat yesterday or not,” Garp guffawed through a cracker.

“Some of them,” Tsuru agreed, “but it’s the ones who do remember that are the problems.” She exhaled heavily and looked at the child. “You sure you want to raise him? Dragons are very particular, Fallen Dragons especially. There will be plenty of challenges.”

“I will raise him to be a great Marine; might even have more potential than Garp’s Dragon…”

“Ah; you’re just jealous I got a kid through the Academy and you didn’t,” Garp smirked. “My Dragon’s a stubborn shit though… might end up being more a wild card than me.”

“I can hardly wait,” Sengoku deadpanned. Another wild card out of the same gene pool that brought forth Garp was honestly one of the last things he wanted to experience, even if said genes were only working at half-power. He glanced over at the boy to see that he was curled up and shivering—a bad dream. With a sigh, he went to the boy’s side, sitting down so he could rest a hand against him, calming the lad instantly. Seas, he was tiny…

“What’s his name?” Tsuru asked. Sengoku blinked at that—huh, he hadn’t said it yet?

“Donquixote Rosinante,” he replied. He turned back to the boy and smoothed his mop of blond curls. “Don’t worry, Rosi. You’ll be safe with me.”

‘I’ve got your boy, Saint Homing; you’re going to be proud.’

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As it turned out, the Celestials did tolerate a Fallen Dragon being raised within a stone’s throw of their home. In fact, some of them even relished in the idea, the boy’s circumstances amusing them beyond what Sengoku could have imagined. He raised the boy to be a fine Marine, to be an advocate for Justice, to work hard and possibly even succeed himself in the place of Admiral. The boy even had friends within the system, just as Sengoku did, the lot of them pushing one another towards greatness.

There was one friend in particular, however, that Sengoku wasn’t entirely fond of. A year older despite being in the same class, she was from an Eastern backwater that never saw high or low of anything. She was trouble and he knew that from the start. It wasn’t until her that his boy started getting caught smoking, or was found with his uniform rumpled and out-of-place, or his mind started to drift elsewhere during lessons. Sengoku knew where—he too was only a man—but it worried him that this punk with a pair of sideshaves was causing a loss of focus… a lack of direction… and it brought worry that the Fallen Dragon was liable to slip further into something that he could not be lifted out from.

Then, one day, not long before his graduation ceremony, Sengoku’s boy took him by surprise.

Donquixote Rosinante wanted to take his brother down.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Before you go dark, there’s something I wanted to ask you, son.”

Sengoku watched as Rosinante stopped sorting his papers and contemplated turning to face him. The boy was too young and stubborn to be making such decisions, but since when did the young take their elders’ advice? Eventually, he went back to sorting.

“What is it?”

“That girl you were seeing while you were both cadets…”

“Bell-mère.”

“Yes. She was the one who took those orphans from Oykot and retired, correct?”

Rosinante’s hands began to tremble and he looked at Sengoku. “Why…?”

“I was thinking… and… do you think you can convince her to come back?”

“She’s not going to let the naval daycare raise those girls, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Rosinante replied. He went back to his personal papers in an attempt to seem too busy to talk. “Besides, she’s out of this game.”

“What if… she didn’t have to rely on the naval daycare?” Sengoku asked. The question hung heavily on the air, settling between them like a thick haze. “You know I’m old enough to retire.”

“You didn’t do anything for them before, so why start now?”

Sengoku knew the lad’s words were meant to sting, yet he didn’t feel anything. He was used to such accusations, after all. “As a member of the military, my hands are tied. However, as a retiree…” He trailed off, his eyes moving towards a messy stack of papers on his son’s bed. “I know how much she means to you.”

“You never seemed to care before this.”

“I was never sending my son into a demon’s den.”

Rosinante stopped going through papers, his hands shaky. “I’m going to come back, Dad, but before that I have to stop Doffy.”

“…and I don’t want that to take so long that they miss the opportunities they would have had if you were around… if I could help…”

“I already tried—she doesn’t want the girls raised on a base.”

“Then we can live off-base. Rosinante…”

“I’ll think about it,” the younger man said, tone almost a bit too sharp. “You know… they told me I had to go somewhere before heading over to Doffy to help cover my tracks. Maybe I’ll go there.”

“You will keep me informed, will you?”

His son didn’t answer and maybe… maybe it was for the best.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

To offer up one’s heart is a terrible thing.

They don’t know how precious it is, how precious they are, and can treat it casually and accidentally chip it.

Except, sometimes they know precisely how they should handle it, and that is by letting it slip from their fingers and shatter on the cold, hard ground. How could they possibly be in the wrong, when the one to blame is clearly you?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Did you talk to her?” Sengoku asked. The snail on his desk frowned.

“You shouldn’t know that,” it replied in Rosinante’s voice.

“I am the Fleet Admiral; not a lot gets past me.”

Silence—the snail seemed to muse sourly.

“I did what I went there to do.”

“Then, what did she say?”

“It… never came up.”

“How could it never come up? I thought you were there for a few days.”

“It just… didn’t.” The snail looked almost melancholy. “Gonna go dark for a bit. Catch you in about six months for my check-in.”

“Rosinante?” The snail lifted an eyebrow. “Be careful.”

The snail went to sleep and that was that.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Missing.

Tsuru assured Sengoku that her troops had scoured the island—Rosinante was nowhere to be found on Minion Island, let alone any of the other neighboring islands. There was evidence of Birdcage survivors in one of the houses, but the cooking fire was out cold and there were bear tracks outside—there wasn’t much hope for whomever had lived there, let alone anyone who might have taken shelter there in the meantime.

Sure, he had sent a letter of resignation, but without the ability to confirm the date, what did he have except a sense of hope that felt more false than anything?

There was no funeral, though there was a mourning period. Most people kept their distance from the Fleet Admiral whether they knew why he was testy or not. The only ones who really came around were Garp (annoyingly), Tsuru (at least she was supportive), and a teen who had been picked up on Minion… whose father had dragged him along when defecting from the military. It was an interesting choice, for Tsuru to bring the lad to Sengoku, and yet having the youngster around… it felt more right than it deserved to be.

To hell with Diez Barrels; if he wasn’t going to raise his boy to be the Marine he was destined to be, then Sengoku sure as hell would.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Time passed.

No word from any of the intelligence agencies about Rosinante. They must have looked through all the North Blue without uncovering a trace.

Drake grew into a fine Marine.

A child with a familiar name started gaining a name for himself in the North Blue via petty trouble.

Sengoku still felt lonely.

All anyone could do was carry on.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was a lull in an otherwise stormy day when Sengoku got the mysterious letter, completely out of the blue. He stared at the envelope curiously. There was no return address, no identifying marks to inform him what was in his hands. It didn’t seem dangerous… and if it truly was, the sniffer snails would have caught it before it reached his inbox…

Carefully, he slid his finger under the envelope flap and broke the seal. Once opened, it yielded a folded-up piece of paper and a smaller envelope that was only folded shut. He opened the paper and began to read the letter, the author’s handwriting young and unfamiliar.

‘Fleet Admiral Sengoku,’ it read. ‘My name is Nojiko and I live on an island in a Cardinal Blue with my parents and little sister Nami. I have four brothers who you know about too, but I haven’t seen them in a long time.’

Huh…? Why was this girl writing him? How did he know her brothers? Who gave her access to his private office…?

‘Mom and Dad would be livid if they knew I wrote you. It’s not that we’re not allowed to contact you, but they don’t want to be found. I don’t think it’s about you specifically, but the people you are around. They don’t trust Navy Headquarters. To be honest? I can’t blame them.

‘Enclosed is a peace offering. Keep it safe. Consider this the only time we’ll talk unless my parents say otherwise or it’s an emergency.

‘With love,

‘Donquixote Nojiko’

Sengoku sucked in a breath—Donquixote?! He trembled as he picked up the other envelope and nearly cut his finger on the paper flap as he freed it and its contents.

There, clear as day, was a pair of photographs. The topmost one was not just anyone in the snail-captured image, but his son Rosinante all clean-faced and awkward limbs. He was wearing a nice suit that matched the other adult, someone that he had not seen in ages… the same one who his son had been involved with all those years ago. A pair of young teenaged girls were also there, throwing flower petals in the air. They were all smiles and laughter—it was a joyful day.

Sengoku missed his elder son’s wedding.

“Nojiko…” he whispered, looking at the photo. She must have been the teen with the darker skin and blueish hair—the kid with the ginger hair and pale skin looked like the younger of the two. Yes… these were the babies that the Cocoyasi woman left the military to raise… the ones she refused to bring on base longer than it took to be told there was little that could be done for them… his granddaughters.

Sengoku was missing seeing his granddaughters grow up.

Suddenly, a knock at the door shook him from his own thoughts. He looked towards the door and saw Drake, the younger man’s expression incredibly sheepish.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” he asked. Sengoku blinked as he tried to remember why he summoned him—the shock of the letter had made him completely forget.

“Take a look at this,” he said, holding out the photo. Drake took it and stared, brow knitting in concentration. “That is Rosinante. Recently, I might add.”

“Where’d you get this?”

“The girl on the left sent it through the private channel.” Sengoku watched Drake as he studied the image.

“These… are my nieces, aren’t they?” the younger man asked softly. He seemed nearly in awe at the idea.

“If Rosinante had come home, they would have been, yes,” Sengoku confirmed. “My guess is that he wants some time away from Headquarters before returning. I wouldn’t blame him if that was the case.” At least, that was what he told himself.

“Their names…?” Drake seemed hesitant; could Sengoku blame him?

“Nojiko and Nami.”

“Then let’s hope Nojiko and Nami are smarter than their brothers.”

“With that mother of theirs? Not a chance in hell.” Drake passed back the photo, a pensive look on his face. “Then you really think those hoodlums in the North are the ones?”

“Without a doubt,” Sengoku confirmed. He looked at the other photograph now in his hand, one of the sisters with four young men who he knew were making a splash around the North Blue. Not enough to need bounties yet, but they were putting their marks on things nonetheless. Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, and Law, now joined by Nojiko and Nami; none of them looked like his eldest son, and frankly they were mostly of a better age to be Rosi’s younger siblings, yet he knew they were all the best chances he had at grandchildren. “That wasn’t why I called you here.”

Drake raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t?”

Sengoku shook his head. “I need to talk to you about SWORD.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“They did what?!” Sengoku went pale as Garp cackled on the couch and Tsuru stared him down. “You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly,” Tsuru replied. She laid a stack of reports down on his desk. “These are my findings after going on my usual rounds of the North. Seems like your grandsons are into the concept of freeing slaves.”

“Those boys have moral backbone—you should be proud, Senny,” Garp guffawed through his tea. “Wonder if they came that way or if Rosi had anything to do with it.”

“Damned if I know,” Sengoku said. He was going paler and paler with each line of text, going over the lads’ exploits. They were now gaining members to their crew and some of them may or may not have been former slaves. “They’re going to be the death of me.”

“No, just the death of the color in your hair,” Garp snarked. Sengoku resisted the urge to physically throw Garp out—the last thing he needed was to tussle with the man who regularly threw hands with the Pirate King and do so in his office. “How long do you think before Brannew catches on?”

“When I’m good and dead, with any luck.” Sengoku scowled. “Maybe if I threaten the Bounties Division, I might be able to pull something.”

“Pull what?” Garp snorted. “They’re a bunch of goddamned criminals no matter how you spin it.”

“Are you thinking ‘Alive Only’?” Tsuru wondered. Sengoku’s silence on the matter was rather telling. “You better have a damn good excuse for it before you go, or else you’re going to have more than just Brannew to answer to.”

“The son I found had a hand in raising these kids—I want to meet them first before it gets decided what goes on their bounties,” Sengoku rationalized. “I don’t care if the powers higher than me get their feathers ruffled. As Fleet Admiral, I need to know.”

“As a grandparent, you mean,” Garp teased. “They’re good boys; you should be proud.”

“What happened to them being ‘goddamned criminals’?” Tsuru deadpanned. Garp shrugged, barely able to contain his laughter.

Asshole.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As it turned out, Brannew didn’t ask for an excuse as to why issue the lads’ bounties as Alive Only. No one in Bounties even blinked at the suggestion. It was almost as though it was… expected…? Sengoku took it as a minor miracle and went back to his office as though nothing at all happened. All he did was ask Tsuru to keep him in the loop when it came to the rag-tag quartet out of the North and if he needed to get more involved. She did not respond, though within a month there was a dossier on his desk following a certain crew’s movements.

If this was as close as he could get, then so be it.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Stay away from my children, do you hear me?”

“I’m the only thing keeping those kids from being hunted down like animals.”

“Wouldn’t that get in the way of Justice? You always did wear your guilt a little differently.”

The door slammed, Rosinante leaving in an instant.

Sengoku woke up with a gasp, nearly falling off the couch as he came to in his new (and still box-filled) office. Someone was knocking at the door; that explained that. His elder son’s words from the week prior rattled about in his brain as he lethargically got up to answer whomever disturbed his nap.

“You know, I always felt sorry for Garp growing up. I guess it’s his son and surviving grandson I should pity.”

He had spoken those words with a venom that Sengoku had never known from him—what had happened to his boy there in the East? Why was it so easy for him to walk away? He opened the door and saw the absolute last person he wanted to look at that current moment, his very presence the beginnings of a monster headache.

“What do you want, Garp?” His colleague had the biggest shit-eating grin he had seen on the man in a long time, which he was honestly too tired to be more concerned over. “Have Kuzan and Sakazuki worked out who’s replacing me yet?”

“Nah; I hear that’s probably gonna come to a duel. I’m here because of this.” Garp held up a newspaper that had been opened to the seventh page, a blurry photograph accompanying a rather concerning headline.

EX-NAVAL OFFICERS JOIN REVOLUTIONARY ARMY – INTELLIGENCE LEAKED?

“Seas below,” Sengoku cursed. He took the paper and looked at the article closer. “What the fuck does your boy have on mine that made them do that?!”

“I just got done running this through Intelligence—they’re there of their own accord,” Garp replied. “Them’s the breaks, Senny. You can try to raise them into good Marines, but can’t win ‘em all.”

“Garp…”

“Sometimes you lose ‘em to discontent and radicalization, and sometimes they’re smart and join SWORD. You learn to live with it…”

“Garp, do you realize what this means?!” Sengoku smacked the paper with the hand not holding it. “My son and his wife are working against us! Are you even able to conceive of the implications, or did your brain use all its ability to conjure up discontent and radicalization?!”

“Now that’s just mean.”

“I hope for both of our sake that Kuzan gets the Fleet Admiral spot,” Sengoku deadpanned. Garp simply shrugged.

“Got your kettle and rice crackers unpacked yet?”

A beat.

“They’re in the cupboard.”

Garp then made it his mission to push past his old friend and start putting together tea while chattering away, the empty words flowing over Sengoku as he instead looked again at the newspaper, the blurry—yet undeniable—photograph of Rosinante and Bell-mère underneath a Revolutionary Army flag almost too much for him to bear. He hated it, he hated how it made him feel, and he hated wondering what he could have done differently to prevent it. Eventually, Garp shoved some tea in his hands and started blathering on about something. Anything. Whatever it was that would keep his own thoughts at bay.

Was he truly no better than Garp? Was this how he felt? He sipped the tea and nibbled on rice crackers, hoping that the feeling would soon go away.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sengoku’s hair was beginning to gray when he got his next letter, the fact there was two at the same time nearly knocking him out of his chair. They were both slid into a pile of paperwork that one of Tsuru’s subordinates had delivered to him—there was no way it wasn’t at least partially her doing. They looked very similar, as though the senders had been taught the same way in school.

‘Inspector General Sengoku,’ the first one read. The handwriting was familiar—Nojiko.

‘I’ve been following in the papers what’s been going on with your work situation these past few months. It seems like you might now have some free time to possibly visit? Mom and Dad left me in charge of the farm and, although I have help and I get letters from some of them, it’s… difficult. I can do the work, don’t get be wrong, but I’m used to having at least one sibling and parent wandering around and now it’s just me.

‘What did you say to Dad and Mom that made them not come back home? One of their old work friends sent me a message saying that they were going to see you, and now… you know. Is it related to why we never really saw you growing up? Is it related to work? What’s going on?

‘Donquixote Nojiko’

Sengoku’s stomach twisted in a knot. What was he to tell this young woman? He placed the open letter down on the desktop and opened the other, hoping that it would at least be better news. The handwriting was unfamiliar; it wasn’t even the specific lettering he taught Rosinante and Drake to help conceal their communications. He opened the envelope carefully, unsure as to what he would find.

‘Grandfather,’ Sengoku’s heart skipped a beat, ‘Should we call you that? I dunno. Seems a little weird, but our family kind of is in general.

‘We’re going to visit our uncle’s for a while. Not the one who works with you, but the other one, who grew up with Dad and has the big house. We’ll check in with our normal uncle on the way. This might take a bit, because we don’t want Dad’s brother to know what’s going on. We wanted to tell you that in case… well… because our parents don’t know, and neither do our younger siblings. They’d all make too big of a fuss. You’re kind of a neutral party, you know?

‘Wish us luck! Our uncle can be pretty weird, but you know that.’

Sengoku let the paper fall out of his hand and onto the desktop, covering the one from Nojiko. It wasn’t signed, but he knew it was from one of the lads Drake had gotten on the snail. They were headed for Dressrosa…?! Why?! There was no way they were going to join him—either that or they had been extremely talented liars—and what hope did they have of opposing him?! How many good and loyal soldiers had they sent Dressrosa’s way, only for them to become swept up in his antics? There was only so much he could take…

A nudge at his arm and his pet goat bleated in a plea for a snack, glittering black eyes trained on the letters. Sengoku petted its head instead, drawing out a soft protest.

“No, not these ones,” he said. “Not until I know they’re safe.”

…because, really, what other choice did he have?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sometimes, love is rough. It’s distant and feels absent. Life tests it due to one reason or another and picking up the pieces can be as difficult as watching it shatter in the first place.

Did you do enough? Of course you didn’t. Was this how it was supposed to go? Never. Who was the one who allowed the veneer to crack and hairline fractures build and build before it began to truly hurt?

Except, you already know the answer, don’t you? Deep down in your bones, in your soul, and it aches something fierce on those silent nights where it doesn’t take the imagination much to conjure another possibility… a room full of noisy, happy people providing the exact thing that instead claws and festers in their absence.

It hurts sometimes, to love a family, and not entirely know if they love you back.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

When Tsuru told him she was headed to Dressrosa to pick up Doflamingo and his cronies, it was all Sengoku could do to not immediately jump up from his desk and force his way on her ship. She knew she was inviting him—there would be no other reason why she was making mention of it now. With Garp off torturing the youngesters or whatever it was he did these days, it was good for the two of them to get work done without his antics… yeah… that was the excuse.

“You’re tense,” she claimed, watching as he kept his eyes on the horizon.

“Who’s tense?” he scoffed. “Dressrosa is nothing but beautiful women and wonderful food; nothing to worry about.”

Tsuru simply made a noise and left him to his devices, making it clear she didn’t believe him. How could she, when she knew it was not just Doflamingo on the island, but also the ones he had wanted to see for so long… to share a meal with… the ones who he could have had like she Kujaku… she pitied him, in a way, knowing that there was so much to contend with despite his desire to wipe the slate clean.

That was why he bowed, in fact. A sorry old man filled with regret on his hands and knees; he was a sight to behold in the one-room house, weeping openly as his grandchildren hugged him. First it was the bear and the young woman, then the pair who had gone undercover, and finally the now-former Warlord, having needed cajoling by the others to join in. It felt bittersweet, knowing he could have watched them grow from teens, from children, from babies, and now these adults—not much younger than his sons—had lost so much that he could never repay.

“C’mon! Youse guys gotta hurry!” The green-haired idiot who had come in to warn them about Tsuru began to usher everyone out, shivering at the sight of him. Eventually, it was only Sengoku, Rosinante, and Bell-mère in the house, the former never having felt so tired.

“Rosi…” he said softly. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“I don’t know,” Rosinante replied. “It’s… complicated.”

“Will you at least quit the Revolutionary Army?”

“Pshh… no way,” Bell-mère smirked. “We’re finally doing something useful for a change; Dragon’s got the right idea. She nudged Rosinante with a twinkle in her eye; her sense of mischief from her cadet days had not waned. “I’ll see what the kids are up to; can’t let them have all the fun.” She left the house, leaving only father and son.

“Is she…?”

“Yeah; she’s telling the truth. We won’t be coming back.” Rosinante shuffled his feet slightly, looking down at the floor. “Listen… I…”

Sengoku didn’t let him finish before he was hugging him, the action taking the younger man by surprise. Rosinante didn’t know what to do with his arms, hunching slightly until he could cautiously hug back, knowing that it had been a very, very, very long time.

“I’m proud of you,” Sengoku said, voice threatening to break. “Follow this sense of Justice and be a better man than I ever was… better than Homing, even.”

“So you won’t hunt me down? Swear you’ll lock me up like Garp does to Dragon?”

“No.” He held his boy at arm’s length, simply glad to be looking at him again. “There’s a farm in the East I’ve been meaning to visit. I hear they grow some of the best mikan in the Cardinal Blues.”

“Something tells me you’re right.” Rosinante stepped backwards out of his grasp, letting Sengoku’s hands slip away. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“For now.”

“Depends on what’s waiting outside that door.”

At that, Rosinante turned and ran, hitting his head on the lintel before stumbling outside. Sengoku watched as the younger man floundered around until Bell-mère stopped him from falling over, catching her husband in a grasp that easily allowed her to pull him into a kiss that made all their present children visibly uncomfortable.

It was almost normal, the bonds they had out there under the sun. While Sengoku was proud, he was also envious. Despite working outside the law, they were all so good, while he honestly did not know what he stood for anymore. He watched as they vanished into the distance, waiting until they were out of sight before sitting on the bench outside the small house with his gaze towards the harbor. Everything was peaceful until the rubble from the town began to rise up and start flying around.

Issho did not have a chance.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Where Secrets Hide

Author's note: Zaarius in Husbandry... @sleepyfan-blog and I were talking about... things. :)

Past =-= Next

Warnings: Addiction, drug withdrawal, drug use, making drugs, selling drugs, uh, so, Zaarius can use his Slannesh poison to make drugs. Has before, will do so even on Ancient Terra. Drug Claw Guy comes back into play. Let me know if I need to add any more warnings.

Summary: Zaarius is delighted to find out that some of his Clients are on Ancient Terra as well. And oh wonderful they are craving his goods and have been in withdrawal for a while. Some of them can be Quite Rude, but know to behave when he's the only reliable source that won't make it worse or more interesting and stays in one city.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Zaarius had intergrated as best he could with this Chaos War Band, it was one of the larger ones. They mainly stayed in one city within this part of the continent of Ancient Terra.

There were several Loyalist, Renegade, and Chaos Bases in this large settlement. At first he'd been terribly sulky about the fact that the rules limited him on his expression of worship for his Deity Slannesh.

However, over the months, he'd met, to his delight some of his customers, souls he'd thought died or gone to another source of Delights. Having some of his more Loyal customers find him again, had been… temperamental.

After all, some of them were quite… complicated in their emotional reactions to their needs and desires. The Cravings that could only be satiated with his concoctions that he makes with his poisons that he'd been blessed with by Slannesh themself.

He'd not been the one to give them the low level poisons, turned drugs that they craved. But, he is one of the Known ones, in certain, circles, to be able and willing to make such Delights.

For a price, of course, nothing comes free after all, and besides, his discretion and the fact that he doesn't put in additives, unless specifically requested to, makes him a… Safer alternative then some of his more capricious and mercurial brothers.

He was humming to himself, he'd been making the next large order for one of his more temperamental, and particular clients. The high-handed and arrogant fucker did pay him very well for his services, the poison he craves, and his silence on this matter.

His discretion and his time that he's owed. He packages the Delights he's made for this particular client in a particular way. He writes the Loyal Captain's name on the carefully packaged and wrapped in brown paper Delights.

He'd found out that the particular titration level that this one preferred went excellently in chocolate. He'd made a set of chocolates in various fruit flavors as a Treat, as well as adding in the Delights.

The rest of the Delights are in the normal, boring method, a variation of rations. Getting put on ration making had been dreadfully annoying in how dull it was to make.

But, needs must, with maintaining his clientele's delicate sensibilities and getting the poison to them in a form that wasn't a glowing liquid that all but screamed the truth for all to see. Honestly, Loyalists could be such hypocrites at time!

All that damnation and disgust and hatred for Chaos, and yet, they can come to crave and need it all the same. It was … such a delicious contradiction.

He couldn't stop the wicked smile that curled round his mouth as his Chaos sharpened teeth would cause base line humans to pause as he allowed himself to chortle.

He's in civilian clothes, as a way to be more incognito, granted he's still a Chaos Marine, and still Very Noticeable, but it allowed his clients to pretend it what was happening was more… innocent in nature than what it truly was.

Hura was out of the Chaos Base, tending to some of the Loyalists for some reasons or another that he'd not been told. He shrugs a little as he heads to the location that one of his Loyal clients had requested, he wait at for the drop off.

He hums to himself a song, an earworm that he'd heard on the Radio that his darling bonded had on while they worked on cleaning their domicile.

He was, eventually, going to move in with his human. But they were still at the beginning stages of their relationship, and they tended to be a bit shy around him sometimes.

As much as the distance between himself and his Bonded ached at times, he approved, even if it made him sulk, of their caution. And it made him preen, yes, he is a very dangerous sentient creature, isn't he?

He is also magnificent and ever seeking Perfection in all of it's forms that he wants to attain. He straightens up as he hears the swift marching of Ceramite booted feet and he turns to glance and gives a friendly smile to one of his Loyal clients.

"Greetings," Zaarius purrs to the Holy Captain. "It's been a while hasn't it dear?"

"Slanneshi whore," The Loyal Captain says scowling fiercely at Zaarius. "How dare you foul this place with your very presence."

"That was rude," Zaarius says, his smile fading as he scowls at the blue eyed bastard, "And here I thought you were craving some hand made Delights."

He sees the way the Loyal Captain twitches as he mentions the word Delights. Sees the way the fire, brimstone, rage, and a whole lot of bluster fades from the others eyes. Zaarius gives him a pleasant smile and sees the way the other's hands shake minutely.

"Darling, how long has it been since you were able to have Delights?" Zaarius coos to the other Space Marine.

"I have been on Ancient Terra for a few years," He says gruffly, clenching his hands into fists a couple of times as he scowls at Zaarius and then their surroundings, "None of the other Slanneshi whores who were Noble Space Marines, have quite the right… recipe."

"You flatter me darling~" Zaarius cooes, almost flattered by the others words. "Now, do you have what I requested for payment?"

"Yes," The Loyalist says with a grumble as he pulls out a satchel and eyes him and the paper bag with the desperate gleam of someone who's unraveling at the seams. The pain of the start of Falling to Slannesh can tear at the soul and be agonizing, and not in a way that could bring Pleasure and Excess in a way that could be enjoyed.

"Why don't you snack on these Delightful Chocolates?" Zaarius says, carefully pulling out the extra Treat that he made. "Don't worry, I have your whole order properly made into rations for you. But since this is the first time, in what seems like a long time, since you've tasted Delight, I thought something excessively delicious would help."

The Loyalist stares at him sharply, assessingly as he looks between the box of chocolates and the surrounding area, and at the descreetely packaged brown paper bag full of Delights. He huffs a sigh and shoves a hand out for the box of homemade Delightful chocolates.

"Now, now," Zaarius tutted, "what do we say before taking something?"

"Give it Whore," the Loyalist Captain snarls at him.

"Hm.. Cute, but no," Zaarius says shakingh his head, "Some manners are in order, darling one."

He sees the way the other grinds his teeth and the way his ears go a charming bright red as his stone face gives away nothing, although his blue eyes darken with rage as the Captain huffs out, "please give me what I ordered.'

Zaarius hands over the box of Delightful chocolates with another grin, "See, was that so hard?"

He gets a steely eyed glare as the other opens up the box of chocolate and swiftly eats one of the chocolates. Zaarius sees the way the other's body posture relaxes, the subtle shaking and trembling subsiding and he seems to stabilize with a relieved sigh.

"Feeling better, darling?" Zaarius asks with a coo in his voice.

The other Space Marine glares at him again, and he only chuckles at the other. He continues to look over the satchel of requested payment, seeing everything is in order. He carefully hands over the rest of the Order of Delights that the Loyal Captain had ordered. Zaarius had been told by some of the other brothers and cousins who have been on Terra for a lot longer that Falling to Chaos can still happen on Ancient Terra, but it was much harder, and the process as a result was much slower.

Zaarius wondered just how much more perfect and interesting this particular Captain was going to become as his slow desent into Slaanesh's embrace happened. He alos wonders if anyone has noticed that this bastard is falling, while it has been slowed, it is still happening. Some had hypothesized that there might be a way to stop The Fall, at least on Ancient Terra.

Not that he's seen or heard of such a thing happening. but one of the many oddities and curiousities that is being upon Ancient Holy Terra. He calls out to the Captain, "make sure to send be a Vox message when you need your next dose. I usually reside within this city for large cycles of time."

"That is good to know," The Captain says his back turned to him, "As you know, I am part of a wandering band of Loyalists."

"You know," Zaarius says slyly, voice like silk and sin, "If you have some brothers in that band who are Curious, allow them a taste of the Delightful chocolate. I'd be willing to give you, and anyone you recommend for my… Services a discount."

"I am not desperate," The Captain snarls, "And I won't allow your disgusting Chaos Taint to twist those of weaker wills."

"Very well then," Zaarius says with a shrug, "It is still an offer on the table, you only need to be bold enough to sieze is darling."

The Captain gives him one, last snarl and parting words that are rude, vicious and cruel. Likely to make the loyalist feel better about going to a Slanneshi cock whore puppet for something that he definingly is addicted to but is pretending that he isn't for his own peace of mind. Or something. Over the next several days he greets some more of his clients, and they are more or less the same amount of polite to him as that Dear Captain was. None are so highly ranked as Him. But they are still wonderful souls that are starting to walk the path to Excessive Delights that is the Fall to the youngest of the Four.

[universitypenguin]

Chapter 18 - Part II

The Princess & The Lawyer Chapter XVIII - Part II 

Summary: Lloyd is rattled by unexpected news from Elliot that sends him into an emotional spiral and delays his return. Aiden is arrested for a shocking crime and Landon gives a profile of the stalker.

Word Count: 6,670 

Masterlist

Warnings: Physical violence, strangulation, attempted drowning. References to stalking, the U.S. military draft process, war and military service, drug addiction, family estrangement, international adoption, murder, and death.

Author’s Note: I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. I was planning to finish it sooner, but I had a virus of some kind for the past week.

Chapter XVIII - Part II 

The engine of the Mercury purred like the big cat it was named after as Lloyd exited I-15 and rolled to a stop at the light. He admired the way the hood gleamed in the afternoon sun. 

“You did a great job on the body work,” Lloyd said.

“Thanks,” Elliot replied. 

Ahead of them, the light was stubbornly red. Lloyd drummed his fingers on the wheel.

“I was shocked how many people showed up to the funeral,” he said. 

“They weren’t there for him, they came for us.” 

“I know. Can you believe Mrs. Wilcox stepped foot in a Catholic church? Do you think she’ll have to repent before the Baptists take her back?”

Elliot laughed. “No, they have a new pastor. He’s not as hardline as the old one.”

“Oh, man. I bet she hates that.”

“She stopped going to church for a month when he took over.” 

Lloyd tried to imagine Mrs. Wilcox without picturing her going to church three times a week and couldn’t quite fill in the picture. The light turned green and he rolled through the intersection. 

“What ticked her off?” 

“The new preacher didn’t condemn drinking alcohol.”

“Ah… that makes sense. The no alcohol thing is one of her favorite rules. Did you notice she only played Baptist hymns during the service? I was sure she’d pick a classic for the finale, like ‘Amazing Grace’ but she went with ‘The Gate Ajar.’”

“She’s probably hoping to draw some converts to the Baptist with better music.” 

“Hey, if the Baptists can drink now, she’s got a fighting chance.” 

Elliot snickered. Lloyd scanned ahead for the turn off to the rehab facility. 

“Did you know Uncle Joe served in the Marines? I didn’t.” 

“Yeah,” Lloyd said. “I knew he’d been in the corps, but only because I found his draft papers in the basement when I was a kid.” 

“Draft papers? He was drafted?”

“His card got pulled in ‘69 and he did two tours. We never talked about it. I knew better than to ask. Eventually, it just sort of faded from my mind because he never brought it up.” 

“Isn’t that weird?” Elliot asked. 

Lloyd shrugged. 

“Do you think that’s why he was… the way he was?” 

The way he was. Lloyd contemplated the phrase. How was Joe? The first word that came to mind was quite simply: mean. The stern demeanor, thirst for vengeance, and his desperate need for control might have had roots in his time overseas. Who knew what effect the brutality of guerrilla warfare would’ve had on Joe as an eighteen year old. Lloyd wondered if his father had been in a similar state of mind as he’d found himself in at that age. Perhaps the simmering rage had been hardened into something more deadly by the explosive violence of those two years in the jungle. 

“I don’t know. Maybe, but no one can know for sure. Even if it did, Joe wouldn’t have admitted it.” 

Lloyd turned in at the rehab facility and parked near the front doors. Elliot checked in with the admissions clerk, who took his luggage and disappeared down the hall, giving them a moment to say goodbye. 

“Were you serious about staying in touch?” Elliot asked.

“Yeah. I haven’t decided about the ranch yet, but we’ll need to coordinate on that when the time comes.”

Elliot stared at him. “Coordinate?”

“Joe left you half the ranch.” 

“Come again?” 

Lloyd clapped his cousin on the shoulder. “I’ll have the lawyer send you a copy of the will, okay? We’re business partners now. That is, unless you’d rather sell.”

Elliot looked dumbstruck. “Uh-huh. Yeah… I don’t know. Do you want to?”

“I haven’t decided. How about we wait six months to make a final determination? It’ll give you time to get back on your feet and I can think things over. But if you need cash now, I can arrange a sale.” 

“We should talk about that… later.” Elliot glanced over his shoulder to the desk, where the nurse was working on her computer. “Hang on a second, will you?”

Lloyd watched as Elliot approached the nurse, then accepted a small green notepad and pen. He scribbled something down and ripped off the page before handing it back to her. 

“Here. Since you were serious about staying in touch, don’t limit yourself to just me, okay?”

Lloyd looked at the paper. There were two unfamiliar addresses written down, one nearby in Park City and the other in Denver. He looked at Elliot. “What’s this?”  

His cousin shoved his hands in his pockets, rolling his shoulders. 

“I know you’ve never gotten in contact, which, you know… uh… speaks for itself… but I think you should have that. Just in case you change your mind.”

Lloyd studied the addresses and then Elliot’s anxious expression. 

“If you’re still angry-” he broke off, sighing. “You can’t blame them for something that was out of their control.”

“Blame who? For what?” Lloyd asked, losing patience as Elliot skirted around the point without explanation.

“Ingrid and Josephine. They’re your family, too.” 

Words died on Lloyd’s tongue, stolen by the impact of the revelation. He re-read the addresses and cemented them into his memory. 

“Will you say something?” Elliot said, annoyed. 

“I thought they were dead.”

“Dead? Why? You couldn’t find them?” Elliot asked.

Lloyd shook his head, “I never looked… because I thought… I figured…”

“Why would you think they were dead?”

“Joe always settled his debts. Always. If she ran away, that meant…”

He couldn’t finish the thought, but saw understanding flash in Elliot’s eyes.

“They’re alive, and they’d be thrilled to hear from you.” 

“Thank you, Elliot.”

They didn’t hug goodbye, just nodded at each other. Then he watched his cousin walk through the double doors that led to a long hallway. Lloyd slid on his sunglasses and headed out to the parking lot. The note in his hand felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. He shoved the paper into his wallet and climbed behind the wheel in a daze. He didn’t remember the drive from Salt Lake into Wyoming, but the next thing he knew, he was filling up with gas in Rock Springs. 

He’d planned to drop off the Mercury in Salt Lake and have it shipped to D.C. Lloyd checked his watch and realized that appointment, as well as his flight, had long passed. There were a dozen missed calls on his phone. He wondered why he’d driven east, when he could’ve headed to Park City and seen Josie just as easily. It wasn’t too late to swing down to Denver and look up Ingrid; the stop wouldn’t be too far out of his way. 

What would he say? After all those years of assuming the worst, he'd been wrong. He had to reach out to them and that terrified him. 

They’d want to know why he hadn’t contacted them, why he’d let them go so easily, and ignored their existence for the past twenty years. How could he explain that the risk had outweighed the reward? Denial and avoidance and selfishness had cost him the most important people in his life. He cursed himself for it now and saw the stark truth - he’d given up on his sisters without a shred of factual evidence, leaning on emotional reasoning designed and tailored to protect himself.

He couldn’t explain that, not in his current state of mind, so he turned back onto I-80 and headed home. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

You heard footsteps and jerked around so fast you nearly fell off your chair. The unexpected sight of the man behind you stole the breath from your lungs.

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” 

“Easy, Princess. It’s just me.” 

Jake raised his arms in mock surrender as you pressed a hand to your racing heart and inhaled through your nose. 

 “Zach let me in,” he explained. 

“Sorry. I’m still on edge from last night. What are you doing here?” 

He grimaced. Your pulse, which had just begun to slow, galloped in response to the expression. 

“Did something happen with the case? To Lloyd? Is he okay?” 

“Nothing happened with the case - as far as I know - and Lloyd… I have no idea. He called me at six-thirty this morning and threatened to rip me apart limb by limb. I’ve been ducking his calls ever since.” 

You frowned. “I’m sorry. I tried to tell him about Aiden last night, but I chickened out at the last minute.” 

Jake quirked an eyebrow. “Well, that explains the phone call. Come on, Diskant is waiting.” 

He led you through the kitchen and dining room, into the living area. 

Zach lounged in the ornate Fauteuil chair on the far side of the room, his right ankle hooked over his left knee. The perfect stillness of his posture belied his casual bearing. The frozen, statue-like demeanor made your heart sink, as your attention shifted to the tall man who rose from the couch to greet you. 

“Good afternoon,” Diskant said, extending his hand.

You greeted him and settled on the loveseat with Jake, directly across from the sofa. 

“I’m sorry to inform you of this, but early this morning, Aiden LeDoux was arrested for attempting to break into your apartment.” 

The words hit you like a trap door opening under your feet. You didn’t know if you should celebrate or shudder. 

“When? How was he caught?”

Diskant glanced at Jake, who shifted nervously beside you. 

“I asked Jake to trail Aiden,” Zach said. 

“Starting when?” you asked.

“Saturday morning,” Jake said. “I’ve been following him all weekend.” 

Diskant spoke. “He found Aiden trying to pick the lock of your apartment door. Jake contacted building security and took video of the act, so we have clear evidence of the attempted break-in.” 

Your arms squeezed around your midsection. “And? Where is he now?” 

“Jail, but we expect him to make bail soon.” 

“Right.” 

Detective Diskant glanced at Jake before meeting your eyes. 

“There’s something else… While investigating the break in attempt, Jake located something unusual. We found a hidden camera in the hallway. It was tucked behind the welcome wreath on your across-the-hall neighbor’s door. The camera was pointed at your apartment and was live-streaming to an unknown IP address.” 

- - -

For the next two hours you reviewed every detail of your case with Diskant. You seized a throw pillow and hugged it to your torso, digging your fingers into its softness for comfort. The detective’s pen scratched on the page as he scribbled in his journal. 

Landon had joined your meeting an hour ago, since his shift tailing Aiden became a moot point when his bail hearing was pushed to Tuesday morning. You felt Landon’s perceptive eyes on you, taking in every detail of your reactions. 

“Remind me what initially caused you to suspect Aiden when you realized you were being stalked?” Diskant asked.

“No one else made sense. Aiden was the only person I’d upset recently, and he’d just gone through a stressful event, losing his job.” 

Diskant frowned. Zach leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.

“I think we should consider other suspects,” he said.

“What leads you to that conclusion?” Diskant asked.

“Last night, when someone tried to turn us into road kill, Aiden was playing basketball with friends on the other side of town - Jake witnessed it himself. The initial contact from the stalker where he quoted: “Don’t ask who’s there…” that’s a line from Scream, which was released in ’96. In other messages I found more references to horror movies. He quotes Misery and Candyman verbatim in some of the threats. It’s hard to tell if the quotes were deliberate or if the phrases were naturally absorbed into his lexicon. The movies he’s referencing are from the 90s, well before Aiden started watching horror flicks.”

Diskant nodded. You noticed he didn’t take any notes.

Zach sighed and glanced at you, then continued. “The third factor is Aiden’s personality. I made it a point to talk to him a couple times while he was dating Princess. In my opinion, he’s extremely passive aggressive, which isn’t compatible with the increasing level of confrontation we’re seeing from the stalker.”

“What comments did he make that you considered passive aggressive?” Diskant asked.

“He was too good at the art of a backhanded compliment. When I first spoke to him he claimed to appreciate Princess’ independence in one breath and undermined it in the next with, ‘not everyone can handle things on their own, like she tries to.’ There were less specific things too, but overall, he just had a way of taking an innocent sounding statement and giving it a whiff of contempt that set my teeth on edge.” 

Diskant clicked his pen and tucked it in his jacket. “I’ve been mulling over the possibility of other suspects myself. The main problem with that theory is the phone call Yvette received last night. Have you considered that Aiden might be working with a partner?”

Zach raised his chin. “Do you have a line on a potential partner?” 

“Not yet, but putting together the timeline of last night’s events, Aiden called Yvette before going to the park for his basketball game, prior to the hit-and-run attempt. The phone call where he asked if you were home might have been geared towards finding out the exact opposite. I think it’s just as likely that he was trying to find out if you weren’t at home.”

“If he put up a camera in the hallway and saw that no one was coming and going from your apartment, that might explain him contacting Yvette,” Jake said. 

“Once he knew the apartment was unoccupied, he could have sent his partner to distract you with the hit-and-run. We reviewed the security tapes, and it seems that the driver veered away at the last second. I don’t think they were trying to kill you, just frighten and maim.” 

You squeezed the pillow tight.

“Landon, have you finished profiling the suspect?” Zach asked.

“Male, 45 to 55, highly intelligent, strategic, with organized behavioral patterns. Some texts seem pre-scripted and sent on a schedule. There are three main patterns of delivery: rapid fire, cluster attacks with intentional pauses, and a steady trickle.” 

Diskant nodded. “I noticed the intervals, and the scheduled messages. He probably has a full-time job that keeps him occupied from 9 to 5.”

Landon inclined his head. “Agreed. His writing style shows the marks of higher education, which makes me think he works in a white-collar occupation. It would also explain the need for regular hours. The occasions where he’s made contact - the nephew’s birthday party, in the park on Friday night, and then the incident yesterday - they all occurred in the evening.” 

“Consistent with the profile,” Zach said.

“His emotional tone shows that he suppresses enormous amounts of rage. I’m inclined to think he can’t contain it all the time, which would’ve led to court-ordered therapy, probably on a non-voluntary basis.” 

“What about the fact that he hasn’t identified himself in the texts?” Zach asked.

“That’s why I’m not ruling Aiden out yet,” Landon said. “The coyness allows him to feign innocence. He’s being secretive and not taking ownership of his actions. That fits Aiden to a tee. Factoring the technological aspect of the hidden camera Jake found in the hallway, there’s a strong possibility Aiden is involved in the stalking even if he isn’t the driving force behind it.” 

You swallowed hard, disturbed by the description.

“Does the profile ring any bells?” Jake asked.

You shook your head and plucked at the upholstery of the pillow.

“My questions about the stalker’s identity began from the texts as well,” Diskant said. “These messages don’t read like they’re from a romantically obsessed stalker who’s trying to win back their victim’s affection.” 

“The primary motivation behind the messages is clear,” Landon said.

Zach snorted. “Yeah. He’s trying to terrorize her.”

“The person writing the texts is an emotional sadist. They’re motivated by the enjoyment of the hunt and provoking a response.” 

Diskant was nodding before Landon finished speaking. “The movie obsession in the subtext of his messages isn’t based around enjoying the adrenaline rush of fear, like a normal person would. He’s identifying with the antagonists, like Ghostface and Patrick Bateman.” 

“And our current theory is that Aiden is involved with this person?” you asked, fingers clenching in the pillow’s stuffing. 

“It’s one possibility,” Diskant said. “I spoke with Aiden’s father this morning. He mentioned he searched Aiden’s phone for evidence of the messages after you spoke with him. However, after going through his son’s phone, he realized it wasn’t the only device he’d seen Aiden using.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mr. Ledoux reports Aiden has a second phone. He thought it was for work, but he’s seen it several times since Aiden was let go from his employer. His father’s theory is that he wasn’t using his personal device to send the texts.”

Jake leaned in. “Do you have a search warrant for the house yet?”

“We didn’t need one. Mr. LeDoux owns the house, all we needed was his permission. We searched his room from top to bottom and couldn’t find a second phone. A team is searching the rest of the house as we speak.”

“Why is Mr. LeDoux being so cooperative?” Zach asked. “Is it possible he might be Aiden’s partner?”

Your jaw dropped. For a second you were shocked, then horrified. “Mr. LeDoux is too old for the profile and I only met him one time. He has no reason to stalk me!” 

Landon spoke. “I went through Aiden’s publicly available writings when I was analyzing the text messages and compared them. Because of his proximity to the case, I also reviewed Mr. LeDoux’s writing and I doubt either of them authored the messages. But given the information Yvette provided us with, I’m still concerned that Aiden has something to do with the harassment.” 

“When do you plan to interrogate Aiden?” Zach asked.

“I’m not allowing you to speak with the subject,” Diskant said. 

“Why not?” Landon demanded.

“You’re emotionally invested in the case - that’s a recipe for disaster.”

After Diskant left, Zach and Jake headed to the office, while Landon stayed behind as your minder. You retreated to your work station in the conservatory where you stared blankly at your laptop for a few minutes before laying your head down on the desk. 

“Are you okay?” Landon’s voice cut through your misery. 

You glanced back and saw him standing at the threshold between the kitchen and the conservatory, sunlight glinting off his dark brown hair. 

“No. Would you be?” 

“Nope.” He crossed to the table and pulled up a chair, swinging it around to straddle as he folded his arms over the backrest. “Tell me where your head’s at.” 

“Zach and Lloyd might go into overprotective mode. The minute I realized I was being stalked, I was worried about Lloyd’s reaction. After watching Zach’s response to Diskant’s theory…” you shook your head. 

“Zach’s incredibly loyal,” Landon said. 

“That’s why I’m worried!”

“Jake and I will handle them, okay? Bishop already suggested locking Lloyd away before we fill him in. We could always shove Zach in too.” 

“Got a dungeon?” 

Landon snorted. “Not one that will hold them. Listen. This is temporary. The stalking can’t go on forever. It won’t go on forever.” 

“If Lloyd and Zach have their way it will be over quickly and violently. The latter part worries me. I want this resolved but I don’t want them going to jail on my behalf. Just thinking about it makes me sick.” 

Landon’s lips pursed. “Can you think of any reason, other than stalking you, for Aiden to want access to your apartment while you were away?” 

“No. I have no clue.”

“If he planted the camera in the hallway, I’m inclined to think it was placed to make sure you weren’t home. It’s straight out of the intelligence handbook to ensure you’re in and out of a target’s home while they’re gone. Given that Aiden’s father was an FBI agent, he’d know that much about tradecraft.” 

You rubbed your temple. “I don’t understand why he’d do this.” 

“There were no weapons on him when he was arrested. I don’t buy him as your stalker, but the evidence points to his involvement.” 

“It doesn’t make sense. Nothing adds up.”

Landon ran his fingers through his hair, tousling it from its carefully gelled style. “You’re right. And until we get more evidence, it probably won’t. What are you doing in the meantime?”

“Searching for missing persons reports.”

“Okay then. Shall we divide and conquer?” 

The next few hours flew by, filled with research and notes. Daylight slipped away but your eyes remained focused on the screen without pause. You pulled up another report and a moment later, elbowed Landon.

“Hey. Look at this. Li Wei Chapman, age 23, vanished in 1999 from Virginia.”

Landon looked over your shoulder. “Her last known location was at a bible camp her family owned in Fredericksburg.” 

“Is that too far away from Harmony?” 

“It’s only forty minutes by car. The serial killer was most active closer to D.C., but that alone doesn’t exclude this victim. She disappeared on June 14th - right in the middle of his active period.” 

“Look at the notes,” you said, scrolling down. “Her daughter, Zoe Chapman, also went missing on the same day. She was two years old.” 

“If she was his first victim, he might have chosen a location he knew well. Maybe he spent time at the bible camp and was familiar with the terrain,” Landon said. “Fredericksburg has a lot of wooded areas that could be used for cover.” 

“How do you know so much about the geography of Fredericksburg?” you asked.

“It’s on the way to Latimer’s hometown. We use his uncle’s farm for our team reunion every year. This is good. It’s the first mother-daughter abduction we’ve found that matches the details of our victim.” 

“Wait. Marco Latimer? He’s from Virginia?” 

Landon arched a brow. “Yeah. Why?” 

“His accent. I couldn’t quite place it. Where’s he from?”

“Kilmarnock. His accent is Virginia Tidewater, but it’s stronger than most because he grew up on a farm in the middle of nowhere.” 

He re-focused his attention on the missing persons report and was about to say something when the doorbell rang. Your head snapped up.

“I’ll get it,” Landon said.

You trailed after him, but stayed out of sight as he opened the door. A woman in her mid-sixties with ash blonde hair worn in a blunt bob waited on the other side. 

“Hello, I’m Judy Lange. I’m looking for Lloyd’s house sitter. Is she here?”

“Yeah.”

Landon motioned you forward. Mrs. Lange’s eyes glinted in recognition when she saw you.

“Here are the pool keys, for Mr. Hansen. I apologize for interrupting your evening, but I promised I’d have them back before he returned,” she said, handing them over.

“Thank you, I’ll make sure he gets them.” 

“Excellent. And if you need anything, we’re just two doors down.”

You thanked her for the keys and when she was gone, placed the keys in the bowl on the foyer table. Realizing how late it was you checked the time and frowned.

“When does Lloyd’s flight land? Shouldn’t we have picked him up already?”

“He’s driving back,” Landon said. 

“What?! All the way across the country?”

“He’s bringing back a car, at least that’s what Zach said.” 

Your heart sank. You’d confessed your love, and now Lloyd was taking his sweet time returning. 

“What’s wrong?” Landon asked.

“I told Lloyd I loved him last night.” 

His eyebrows rose sharply. “Damn. That took guts. Lloyd’s the most emotionally repressed person I’ve ever met.” 

You groaned and sank down on the couch, head in your hands. 

“What was I thinking?!” 

“Maybe your confession wasn’t such a bad thing,” Landon said.

“Why do you say that?” 

“Lloyd is skittish about sharing his emotions, but under the right conditions he’s made progress before.” 

You rubbed your neck. “I’m worried that he might never say it back. If this relationship keeps going, I’m going to need the words, but I don’t know if Lloyd is capable of saying them… ever.” 

“I think the real question here is, how long are you willing to wait to hear him say it?”

“I don’t know. I love him, but I hate the way it feels to be left hanging like this. Either I get over myself and accept his limitations or… we break up.”

“Perhaps there’s a third option,” Landon said.

“What’s the third option?”

“Give it time. Lloyd is capable of changing. Don’t forget that.” 

“What am I going to say to him when he comes home?” you asked, running a hand over your hair. 

“I’d wait and see if he brings it up on his own. But remember - talking about his feelings is his most underdeveloped skillset. If you don’t remember that, you’re going to be hurt when he fumbles the pass.” 

“I can handle fumbling. What I’m worried about is the possibility that he might never try.”

Landon gave you a crooked smile. “Give him a minute to work things out on his own. Lloyd makes his best progress when he can move at his own pace. He’ll test the waters before he dives in. That’s why I think your confession might be a good thing.” 

You groaned. “It wasn’t a good thing. I humiliated myself.”

“Or you made him feel secure. Lloyd’s always taking one step forward and two steps back with emotional processing. If he knows where he stands with you, that might serve as an anchor. He’ll never be one for eloquent declarations of love, but a blind man could see how he treats you. I doubt the words will come easy, but he’ll find his voice when he’s ready.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

It wouldn’t have been accurate to say that Lloyd spent the rest of the drive across the country chewing on the idea of reconnecting with his sisters. Rather, it was the idea that spent the rest of the drive chewing on him. Thoughts of Ingrid and Josie took center stage and refused to let him look away. By the time he was approaching the outskirts of Rockville, he was exhausted and sick of spinning through the same thoughts over and over. 

By the time he parked the Mercury on the tree lined street outside of his townhouse complex, it was approaching midnight, and he felt like a zombie. His back ached and the bruise on his thigh from where Charlene kicked him throbbed. He felt every twinge of sore muscle from the explosion at Holbrook’s stash house as he unloaded his bags. When he stepped inside, the sight of Zach drinking whiskey on his living room sofa took him by surprise. It took a minute before his mind switched on and the details of the conversation on Sunday night came flooding back. 

“Shit,” he hissed.

“How was the drive?” 

“Miserable. I… stuff came up. I didn’t mean to take so long. How is she?”

Zach shrugged.

“I called Jake this morning, but he hung up on me, twice.” Lloyd crossed the living room and reached for the decanter of whiskey to pour himself a glass. 

“Tell me what's going on,” he commanded.

Zach snorted. “Fuck, no. I’m not touching that subject with a ten-foot pole, that’s on Princess. But I’m glad you’re back. Shit’s gotten weird the last few days.” 

“Explain.”

“You look like death warmed over, Lloyd. Go get some sleep. I’ll stay through tomorrow and then I’m clearing out so you and Princess can talk.” 

He felt like death warmed over, too, which led him to climb the stairs without too much protest. Whatever you needed to share would probably go over better if he had a full night’s sleep before hearing it. Lloyd slipped silently into the bedroom and found you curled up on the far side of the bed. He stripped to his boxers and crawled in next to you.

When the mattress dipped, your lashes fluttered. For a moment, you opened your eyes, but they didn’t focus. He eased closer and you reached out to press a hand to his chest. Lloyd took that as a welcoming sign and closed the distance between you. 

He pressed his lips to your forehead and whispered, “I’m home. I missed you.” 

You blinked sleepily, trying to wake up, but failing to cast off the chains of slumber. 

“Lloyd… home…” you slurred the words as you struggled to open your eyes.

“I’m here now,” he murmured, smoothing a hand down your back. You cuddled into his chest with a breathy sigh that made his heart skip a beat. He kissed your hair.

“I’m sorry it took me so long.” 

“S’okay. Glad… you’re back…” 

Lloyd smiled, squeezing you gently as the weight of his worries melted away. You were happy to see him and he was holding you again. Everything would work out. Whatever challenge was lurking around the corner could be dealt with in the morning. As long as he could bask in the feeling of holding the woman he loved for the night, he’d meet the trouble head-on tomorrow.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

In the morning, you curled against Lloyd and watched him sleep, enjoying the peaceful expression on his face. You were happy he was home, but dread clawed at the pit of your stomach. The conversation you’d put off was hours away and his reaction loomed large. Sighing, you showered and dressed before making your way downstairs. 

Zach was at the stove, stirring a pan of scrambled eggs.

“Morning Princess,” he said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You forced a smile in return and opened a cabinet to grab plates. As Zach finished cooking, you set two places at the breakfast bar. You ate in silence with the approaching conversation weighing heavily on your mind.

“So, have you decided what to say?”

“Kind of. I’m planning on starting with the reasons behind my decision before I tell him the details.”

“If he explodes, don’t take it too personally. He’s been known to say things in the heat of the moment that he doesn’t mean.” 

“It’s the uncertainty about the stalker’s identity that I’m worried about explaining. This was bad enough when I thought I knew who was behind it. Not knowing makes it even harder.” 

“I’m meeting with Mr. LeDoux this morning. He kept a log of Aiden’s comings and goings for the past week and he’s willing to share it with me.” 

“That’s good.”

“We’ll sort this out, okay? As for Lloyd, just bite the bullet and get it over with. He’ll come around once he calms down,” Zach said, and patted your shoulder.

You tried to take comfort in his words when your phone rang, interrupting your thoughts. Annabeth’s name popped up on the caller ID. You answered on speaker phone.

“Hey Annabeth. I’m here with Zach Hightower. Did you find something?”

“I have good news: you were right. The unidentified victim isn’t Julia’s sister!”

“Really? What did you find out?”

“There was an error in the initial comparison, which probably came about because of insufficient reference material. Julia came from a semi-isolated community that’s lived on an island for generations, her DNA is harder to interpret. With a deeper analysis, it became clear that Julia and the unknown victim weren’t sisters - they’re actually third cousins.”

“So the error was on Julia’s sample?”

“It can be difficult to interpret the genetics of a person with Julia’s background,” Annabeth said. “While China recognizes the Miao as an official minority, there's limited representation of her ethnicity in genetic databases, which is why the crime lab made a mistake.”

“Do you have a match on the unknown victim?” you asked.

“Based on ancestry DNA, the unknown victim is Li Wei Chapman. She was adopted by Frida and Lyle Chapman from Taiwan in 1977 and lived in Fredericksburg, Virginia.”

“Thank you so much, Annabeth. This is a tremendous help.” 

“Glad I could assist. I’ve emailed you the full genetic analysis, but it might take a minute to download. The file is huge.” 

“I can drop it off this afternoon,” Zach said. 

You downloaded and printed the reports for him, but once he was gone, the anxiety returned. To occupy yourself, you returned to the missing persons reports, pulling up everything on Li Wei Chapman. The breakthrough opened up a whole new realm of possibilities - you hardly knew where to begin. An hour ticked by and you were struggling to focus. Lloyd was still asleep. You felt trapped within the four walls of the house. 

It was too quiet. You were bubbling with energy as your mind raced with thoughts of what to say when Lloyd woke up and the possibilities for the investigation now that the unknown victim was identified. You tried to busy yourself by cleaning the kitchen and re-organizing your paperwork, but anxiety was gnawing a hole in your stomach and the attempts to stay occupied only amplified the restlessness. As you paced around the house, your eyes landed on the keys to the pool. They were still on the foyer table where you’d put them last night. 

Weighing the risk, you decided that the pool wasn’t too exposed. It was in a fenced enclosure behind the townhouses, which meant there’d be a row of three story tall brick buildings and a courtyard with an eight foot high wall between you and the nearest street. Locked gates prevented visitors from entering the recreational area behind the townhouses except by passing through a home. Plus, Lloyd’s back gate was only ten feet away from the pool enclosure. 

You found your regular one-piece suit in the front pocket of your suitcase, which you’d stored in Lloyd’s laundry room. After changing, you took the keys and made your way through the backyard, closing the wrought iron gate behind you, and dove into the glistening blue water of the lap pool. The coolness enveloped you, washing away the smothering anxiety that had been simmering all morning. With each stroke down the length of the pool, you felt the stress falling away.

- - -

Hidden in the shadows, a figure watched you splash through the water. 

He’d spent all weekend figuring out where you’d disappeared to. Finding you and Zach at the Emerald Harp on Sunday night had been an incredible stroke of luck. Since then, he’d been waiting for the ex-SEAL to leave so he could approach you alone. His heart pounded with anticipation as he watched, obscured by a neighbor’s arbor. The structure was overflowing with the thriving yellow blossoms of a Carolina Jessamine that offered sufficient cover from the security cameras.

He’d been planning this for months, even before he’d begun messaging you. He’d learned your routines and watched you, waiting for the opportunity to get close enough. Slipping the balaclava over his face he moved through the pool enclosure gate on silent feet, reveling in the rush of being so close to his ultimate goal. 

You swam to the end of the pool, your back to him, unaware of the danger you were in. Wanting to prolong the thrill of being invisible, he stayed out of your line of vision as you swam toward the end of the pool. You reached the wall and surfaced with a gasp, treading water for a moment before reaching for the ladder. Unaware of him, you climbed out and collected your towel from a nearby chair. Adrenaline thrummed in his veins, pulsing through every capillary, and sharpening his senses. He bided his time and relied on the crepe soles of shoes to mask the sound of his footsteps as he drew closer. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Lloyd woke up, feeling well-rested and content. Beside him your spot was empty, and the sheets were cool to the touch. He listened but didn’t hear anyone else moving around in the house. A glance at the clock showed it was past ten-thirty. It surprised him to have slept for so long. Usually he didn’t sleep more than six or seven hours in a single stretch. He showered and brushed his teeth before descending the stairs, looking forward to seeing you. 

As his foot landed on the bottom step, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air.

Adrenaline surged, and without hesitation, he sprinted to the backyard, where the scream had originated. Another scream guided him towards the pool enclosure. He crossed the yard in four strides and didn’t bother opening the garden gate, just leapt over it and pivoted toward the pool enclosure, nearly losing his footing as the loose gravel shifted under his bare feet. 

You were locked in a struggle with a masked figure who had you by the throat. The masked man looked up and saw Lloyd barreling towards him. He threw you down on the concrete and seized a handful of your hair, then shoved your head under the water.

Lloyd charged. He slammed into the assailant and they tumbled across the hot cement, exchanging a barrage of punches and kicks. The masked man was stronger and more competent a fighter than he’d expected. An elbow to the jaw sent Lloyd’s head snapping back, and he cracked the crown of his head on cement. For a second his grip slackened, and the intruder broke free. Lloyd was on his feet in an instant, ready to chase after him, when he saw you unconscious on the ground.

The intruder was already disappearing around the corner into the courtyard. Lloyd knelt and pressed his fingers to your throat, feeling for a pulse. Your skin was ashen and your breathing shallow. Kneeling down, he cradled your head to his chest and stroked your cheek.

“Princess? Wake up… come on, honey…” 

You didn’t stir. His hands trembled as he found his phone in the pocket of his chinos and dialed for an ambulance.

- - - 

He paced in the waiting area, bubbling with tension as the doctors took their sweet time scanning you in radiology, where he hadn’t been allowed to follow. The door opened, and he spun around.

“What happened?” Zach asked.

“Someone tried to drown her in the swimming pool. I got there just in time.”

“You look like you need a bandaid yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Lloyd said. 

“Princess?” 

“A concussion for sure, they’re scanning for other injuries now.”

Worry lined Zach’s face. He crossed his arms and before Lloyd could question him further, the waiting room door opened again to admit Jake and Landon. 

“What happened?” Jake demanded. 

Lloyd gave him the run down and noted that Landon didn’t seem as surprised by the description of events.

“I stopped by your place and spoke to Mrs. Lange,” the dark haired man said. “She gave me a copy of the security tapes from the pool complex. I haven’t had the chance to look at it yet.” 

Jake was already pulling out his laptop. They huddled around the screen and watched as the technical specialist reviewed the footage. The assailant had done a good job of avoiding being captured on his way in, but the frames taken after his fight with Lloyd showed clear images of him fleeing through the courtyard.

“Let me try this,” Jake muttered. 

His fingers flew over the keys as he applied measurements to various objects in the footage, giving the software a frame of reference. The program calculated and analyzed for a minute as he isolated the figure of the assailant. 

Jake read the result and took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Shit.”

“What?” Lloyd growled.

“The attacker is only 5 '9, which means Aiden is six inches taller than the man who attacked Princess. It’s possible to make yourself taller, but six inches shorter? There’s no way he’s the assailant. We’ve been looking at the wrong guy all along.” 

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

Next - Part XIX

Behind the Scenes: Lloyd’s post-chapter reaction

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

Masterlist

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

@denisemarieangelina

@before-we-get-started

@buckysteveloki-me

@patzammit

@badassbaker

@meetmeatyourworst

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@thiskindahotkindamusic

@jesgisborne

@charmingprinces

@amiets2

@seitmai

@elle14-blog1

@chaoticsteverogers

@kaleidoscopepov

@fangirl-and-doctor-help

@terry2227

@jesevans

@openup-yourmind

@kandierteveilchen

@adoreyouusugar

@awkwardgiraffe726

@pono-pura-vida

@mysweetlittledesire

@liecastillo

@marantha

@literaturelove  

@babyevansblog 

@lizzzaaaaaaaaaaa

@thegirlnextdoorssister

@ladygrey03

@cynic-spirit

@rosedpetal

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile

@bambamwolf87

@yiiiikesmish

@calwitch

@peachiestevie

@texmexdarling

@here4thefanfics

@rogersbarber

@spikeluv84

@dear-fifi

@crayongirl-linz

@bigcreatorwombatdreamer

[the-wayward-arc]

Mor Primarch au facts

Konrad Curze is not allowed on Remnant after what he did to numerous Whitefang hold outs.

Another reason why The relics were separated because Jaune learned that they can call the brothers back.

Salem's followers were hunted down and most were killed. Watts however managed to negotiate himself off Remnant in the service of a far off noble house.

Cinder has vanished off world, but she is relentlessly hunted by Remnant Knights and Thousand sons. Her maiden powers however were taken back from her in due part to a Ritual Magnus did. She has yet to be found.

Emerald was given a pardon due to her being crucial in Salem's downfall. As such, she has had her records cleared and given a new identity.

Mercury was taken to be trained by the Officio Assassinorum due to his skills. He didn't willfully go.

The white Fang extremists are gone. Every member killed or imprisoned by the enforcers of the Primarch's laws. Fulgrim himself led such a strike against them while Konrad Simply mopped what remained.

The academies are now strictly a place of learning, due to the need for hunters no longer required per the Emperor's orders. Mostly Due to their Pysker powers.

Jaune still has hunters trained however, despite his father's wishes. Hunters are the specialized units within the Remnant Military that only answer to the Primarch and Legion alone. Plus, Grimm are still a thing while not as prominent are still a nuisance.

The Thousand sons have an abundance of libraries and academies on Remnant while Remnant does the same on Prospero. A type of culture exchange

A grand library was created by Jaune, Magnus, Perturabo, and Fulgrim. Here all the knowledge gathered from conquered worlds is kept, copied, and cataloged for future generations. It was kept on Prospero, it was named the Library of Wonders.

Jaune had plans for after the Crusade, to create a garden world filled with every known flower, a gift to Pyrrha and place for their descendents to enjoy.

Remnant is a trading power house due in thanks to Weiss and her family. However, despite her protests, Jaune has regulated all trading onto a planet outside their the cosmic cloud barrier that surrounds Remnant.

No Imperial is allowed on Remnant, only those from Legion homeworlds are allowed and even some of those are banned.

The citizens that are from the homeworlds of Leman Russ, Konrad Curze, Ferrus Manus, Lorgar, Angron, and Mortarion are banned due to various reasons and incidents that Have almost resulted in loss of life.

Nobles have tried to strong arm their way onto Remnant due to the status of it being a civilized world and almost considered a paradise world where the humans don't have to worry about much. Plus the "exotic beauties" on the world.

None have succeeded, the last one nearly killed by Jaune himself.

Jaune has tasked a special science division to find a way to not only close existing routes within the cosmic cloud at will but to effectively control it defensively.

Jaune is somewhat paranoid, another reason for the creation of the Iron Dragons was so they could combat the space wolves due to what happened to the 2nd primarch as Russ's hands. Infact, Jaune has started to ensure his marines can fight against other marines effectively. Though this is simply considered an unconfirmed rumor.

Jaune does the war games between legions not only to hopefully foster good relationships but to learn each Legions tactics. Even memorizing various battle plans and strategies used by the others. This hasn't gone unnoticed by Horus or Guilliman.

[clowninthecoffeehouse]

I WANNA HEAR ABOUT LIGHTHOUSE HISTORY

eeee. !!! my one true love is the lighthouses. i should talk about them here more often uhhhmm but yes. the main thing that is my interest about their history (AND inspo for ferryman’s dilemma aka original characters) is to do with the history of the like fictionalized/romanticized version of the isolation and mercury poisoning (the old fresnel lights in the lighthouses before people like. realized it was poisoning them were suspended in mercury) induced cliche of the lighthouse keepers decent into madness,,, paired with like general mythos around the ocean (irish mythology is my favourite because of selkies i was obsessed with them as a kid) but the whole decent into madness was a real thing that was not actually anything spooky happening (though fun to make stories).

the physical history stuff is crazy interesting but also a lot more wordy and harder to explain without drawing blueprints like a madman. but the symbolism of the lighthouse and its atmosphere and relationships to marine mythology is my favourite part anyways, the symbolism of the lighthouse is like so in your face it’s just a perfect place for a story. and because of the lapses in sanity of the keepers there’s ghosts stories galore. i promise i will make character references for my victorian lighthouse keeper ocs soon. but it’s a light that guides people in the dark water home, and lighthouses have existed since BCE. they’re so special and dear to my heart. there’s also a lot of specifically american lighthouse history that’s crazy interesting but i’ve already prattled on too much for a text post. uhm but this is one of my favourite video essays on the topic !! there’s also a lot of good articles mentioned in the description which is good because i am too lazy to find my favourites right now

[thethirdromana]

I got curious about how 19th century newspapers actually reported on storms and shipwrecks. Here's an example from the Teesdale Mercury, 29th January 1890:

RESCUED IN MID-OCEAN The liner Gallia brings particulars of the rescue of 18 mariners in the North Atlantic by Captain Munro, of the British steamship Stag, on the 29th ult [?], while on a voyage from Shields to New York. The sinking ship was the old American clipper-built ship Shakespeare, and the crew had already been left to their fate by one passenger steamer, and had abandoned all hope. Captain Munro in his account says the wind was blowing at hurricane force, and his ship was making its way through big seas when the wreck was seen through a veil of hail and rain. He made for the vessel, and found it was a dismasted ship, wit h the crew waving and shouting in a frenzy of despair. He continues: " At that time it was blowing a frightful hurricane, and a boat could not have lived a moment in the seas. Shortly after a heavy snow squall shut out the fast-sinking ship, and all that day and night the vessel was obscured, but every once in a while we could see the flash of lights and rockets telling us where they were. All that night we sailed about the ship, hoping that the storm would abate sufficiently to allow us to go to the crew's succour. For hours we could not see their distress signals, and it gave me intense anxiety for fear I would lose them. When morning dawned I again made a search for the ship. After hours of fruitless endeavour the snow squall suddenly ceased, the mist cleared away, and disclosed the ship to our view. She was almost level wit h the water. The sea was still frightfully high, but I knew that the crew's safety depended upon m y promptness. I ordered away the port quarter boat and called for volunteers to man it . Every one of my crew to a man instantly responded. Second-officer Noell and four of my ablest seamen manned the first boat and rowed to the rescue. On account of the heavy sea the boat could not get within 50ft. of the sinking ship. Then those on the ship threw my men a line. I shouted to everyone to put a lifebelt on and jump into the sea, and then, with the aid of the rope, pull themselves through. Owing to the sea my lifeboat could only rescue five men the first time, and it made four successive trips, each of the men having first to jump into the sea, and then, with the aid of the line which was attached to the ship, swim towards the lifeboat. On the two last trips a fresh crew of volunteers, in charge of First-officer William Hanson, went to the wreck. Chief-officer Fred Matte, the last person to leave the sinking vessel, could not hold on to the rope, his hands being so sore and blistered from exposure and cold, and had to swim the whole distance, my men dragging him out of the water benumbed and exhausted. The rescue, although attended with the gravest difficulty, was successfully accomplished, and the conduct of my men and the presence of mind displayed by the Shakespeare's crew are deserving of the highest praise. We abandoned the ship and the late captain's pet dog to the mercy of the elements, and continued on our trip . The rescued men were weak and exhausted from fatigue and exposure, and were one mass of bruises and sores. They had been tossing about the Atlantic for nearly three months, having left Hamburg on Oct. 24. Their ship was dismasted in a gale on Dec. 17, in which she also sprang a leak. For four days and nights, amid frightful hurricanes, the big seas constantly sweeping over them, the brave crew manfully worked at the pumps in a hopeless endeavour to keep their ship afloat. Capt. Mullar died from heart disease on Dec. 16, and just as a big sea swept his ship on the following day, hurling the mizenmast wit h part of the mainmast to the deck, his body was buried in the sea."

Who knew that one of the areas where Bram Stoker allowed himself creative licence was the inclusion of paragraph breaks?

[spacefrontier]

Launch of a Delta II rocket, starting MESSENGER's journey to Mercury. August 3, 2004.

Artist's rendering of MESSENGER as it departs Earth.

MESSENGER was the second mission to visit Mercury, after Mariner 10 in 1975. The probe finally settled into an orbit around Mercury after 7 years of complex flybys of Earth, Venus, and Mercury itself. The spacecraft studied Mercury's chemical composition, geology, and magnetic field, in addition to taken numerous photographs of the Mercurial surface. The spacecraft eventually crashed into the surface on April 30, 2015, at a velocity of around 8,700 miles per hour, as part of a planned end-of-mission deorbit burn.

The first and last images of Mercury from MESSENGER. The first was taken on March 29, 2011, and the last on April 30, 2015.

NASA 1, 2, 3 JPL

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Keren Landman, MD at Vox:

Anybody can be a part of Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s Make America Healthy Again campaign. On his MAHA website, shoppers can buy shirts identifying themselves as a surfer, snowboarder, skier, sailor, marine, soldier, veteran, chiropractor, artist, fisherman, diver, nurse, doctor, pharmacist, paramedic, engineer, trucker, therapist, lawyer, teacher, millennial, Gen Z, Gen X, Boomer, mom, warrior mom, dog mom, or grandmother — who, like Kennedy, opposes the public health or factory farming or pharmaceutical corporate establishment.

Over the 16 months he campaigned for president, and ever since he quit to endorse President-elect Donald Trump in August, Kennedy has been making strange bedfellows in a divided nation. Voters across the partisan spectrum can find at least one thing he’s said or done that resonates with their values. Opponents of industrialized agriculture and people who want easier access to unpasteurized milk can convince themselves he’s an ally. Public health authorities and fact-based journalists may clash with Kennedy for his inaccurate representations of biomedical science, but many Americans sympathize with his comments on the drug industry, and a growing number share his negative views on vaccine mandates. Trump’s decision to pick Kennedy to lead the Department of Health and Human Services wasn’t a conventional choice. Kennedy represents a movement that has long been outside the mainstream but now finds itself in the halls of power. Soon after Kennedy traded his endorsement for an appointment by then-candidate Trump in August, his platform took on a more Trumpian branding: Make America Healthy Again, often shortened to MAHA.

But what does that really mean? What would the consequences be for people’s health? By articulating a few big, noble goals in alluringly plain language — without getting into the weeds about how to achieve them — MAHA has drawn what were once distinct causes together under one banner. But it’s in between the lines where its dangers lie: MAHA’s calculated omissions allow people to project their own priorities onto the platform, without having to think too hard about the trade-offs.

The historical origins of Make America Healthy Again

From the beginning, Kennedy’s career has blended a connection to the counterculture with his august surname and a professed commitment to noble goals. During court-ordered community service for a drug offense in the early ’80s, he wound up renovating a building owned by the Open Space Institute, a land preservation organization. The building was later taken over by Hudson Riverkeeper, a group dedicated to rehabilitating the befouled Hudson River, and he embraced the cause: After his admission to the bar in 1985, he took on multiple corporate polluters in high-profile cases over the next few decades as senior attorney for the Natural Resources Defense Council. He styled himself as a crusader for the Earth, and so did the media; in 1999, Time magazine named him a Hero for the Planet.

In the early 2000s, Kennedy got interested in thimerosal, a mercury-based preservative then often used to produce vaccines. American anti-vaccination advocates, primed to fear vaccines due to a now-discredited 1998 publication by British scientist Andrew Wakefield, had seized on bungled communications about the ingredient’s safety. Despite the weight of the evidence confirming vaccine safety and the immense global benefits of childhood vaccinations, it became Kennedy’s most important cause. He spent the next two decades at the helm of Children’s Health Defense, one of the leading organizations in spreading anti-vaccination messages.

It represented a break from his activism on behalf of a more conventional and scientifically sound cause to one on the biomedical fringes. Environmentalism “is a shockingly mainstream movement overall” rooted in a faith in science, expertise, and a belief in an active federal government that can implement solutions, says Brian Drake, a historian of environmental movements at the University of Georgia. In contrast, the anti-vaccination movement is grounded in a distrust of science and government, and relies on deliberate misreadings of scientific evidence to support its positions.

But there is a common thread: Both movements appeal to people with an intense distrust of authority, whether government, scientific, or corporate. People with these values have historically used environmental causes as a vehicle to express them, Drake says. For example, when anti-fluoridation advocates gained momentum in the 1950s and 1960s, their most prominent leaders in the US were anti-communists and organic farmers. For those environmentalists who like Kennedy, there is similarly “a real emphasis on bodily integrity, fears of poisons getting into your body,” Drake says. “There’s a really strong individualistic strain to it.” [..]

The Kennedy supporters Buck has spoken with often tell her they’re “fed up” with mainstream approaches to climate action like carbon offsets and alternative energy sources. Rather than push for scalable big-government solutions like investments in renewable energy, she says, people in this subgroup favor more individualistic approaches that don’t restrict their freedom, like strengthening regenerative agriculture for small local farms. Kennedy has done the same. In the mid-2000s, he opposed an effort to build a wind farm off the coast of Cape Cod, framing the issue as a clash between corporations and local economies. During the 2024 campaign, he said soil regeneration and clean water are higher on the list of his environmental priorities than, for example, investments in carbon capture technologies that literally suck carbon dioxide out of the air. (Kennedy left the Natural Resources Defense Council in 2014; his former colleagues there say his anti-science views became incompatible with the organization’s work.)

Vaccine deniers and RFK Jr.-style environmentalists are highly skeptical of corporate power and the scientists they perceive to be in collusion with those nefarious entities. By 2015, historically left-leaning anti-vaxxers were using social media to grow their movement across political and special interest lines. The pandemic further galvanized their efforts and brought in new adherents: Conservatives fearful of government overreach found common cause with vaccine deniers, says Sara Gorman, a public health researcher and author whose latest book is about medical distrust and conspiracy theories. A generation of right-wing politicians and media commentators had primed them to be deeply skeptical of the so-called liberal bias of conventional expertise and academia.

What is MAHA, and who’s behind it?

Kennedy has been articulating elements of what eventually became the MAHA platform for years. His agenda acquired shades of MAGA only recently, when he effectively dropped his doomed presidential bid in exchange for influence over Trump’s health care agenda and over the president-elect himself. The first murmurs of MAHA, the brand, started in early September with an op-ed Kennedy authored in the Wall Street Journal. The effort eventually articulated five key aims:

Combat America’s chronic disease epidemic — especially cancer, diabetes, and heart disease — by tackling its root causes: poor diet, environmental toxins, and inadequate health care.

Promote regenerative agriculture, an organic-style farming approach that promises to slash agricultural carbon emissions and conserve nature while reducing chemical use, with the aim of producing healthier food.

Restore natural ecosystems to benefit human and animal health and mitigate the environmental harms of US industry and agriculture.

Reduce corporate influence in government, especially in its public health and environmental agencies.

Remove chemicals and toxins from the country’s food, water, and air.

On the surface, these priorities don’t look that different from those of the American Public Health Association or the Center for Science in the Public Interest. They share elements of the One Health approach to ecosystem health embraced by leading health authorities worldwide. [...] Siblings Calley and Casey Means have also shaped the MAHA plan. Casey is a Stanford-educated surgeon turned wellness influencer, while Calley was at one point a political insider interning for John McCain’s presidential campaign and lobbying Congress on behalf of the food and pharmaceutical industries. Now authors of a bestselling book on metabolism and health, they bring a deep distrust of those industries and of the medical establishment to Kennedy’s coalition, as well as an insider’s understanding of how they work. Del Bigtree, founder of the Informed Consent Action Network, a prominent anti-vaccination organization, is the MAHA PAC’s CEO, and the group’s social media director previously worked closely with Aubrey Marcus, a podcaster and founder of the Joe Rogan-endorsed fitness and supplement brand Onnit.

[...]

Who is MAHA for?

Taken together, these apostles display impressive credentials. But they are also fluent in the right-leaning influencer-slash-podcaster subculture that has grown around “healthy” eating and exercising; Kennedy himself has gone viral for his weightlifting clips. This movement has one distinguishing feature that unites its disparate threads: People who go from curious to supportive of MAHA, whatever its specific draw to them is, also embrace an intense individualism combined with a “really knee-jerk, angry anti-elitism,” Drake says.

After reciting a falsehood about abortion to a Washington Post reporter — that it’s “never medically necessary to save the life of the mother” — conservative wellness influencer and MAHA stan Alex Clark summarized the ethos: “I know you’ll cite experts who tell me I’m wrong about this, but this is my view.”

Not all vaccine-hesitant people fit this description. But many of those who are suspicious of vaccines on ideological grounds do, and Kennedy’s work resonates with them. Moms are among those drawn to his promise to hold accountable American health care and the federal agencies that regulate it: American mothers’ skepticism about vaccinating their own children is associated with having their own negative experiences in health care, and more than half of Americans report encounters with health care providers bad enough to undermine their trust. Kennedy’s anti-vaccine campaign has coincided with a rise in anti-vaccine attitudes among the US public over the last few decades. More parents are opting out of giving their children vaccinations recommended by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention: Over the last decade, the percentage of kindergartners who hadn’t received routine immunizations increased by 2 to 3 percent. In more than three-quarters of states, measles immunization rates were below the 95 percent coverage threshold needed to prevent outbreaks in the event of a school-based exposure.

Kennedy also appeals to people who broadly distrust government and to “double-haters” — those who think institutions and both mainstream political parties need to be dismantled and either rebuilt or replaced. Despite his lifetime affiliation with the Democratic Party, Kennedy styles himself as a bridger of partisan divides: An early graphic on his now-revamped website read, “Left isn’t better. Right isn’t better. Better is better.” Some of his politically unaffiliated supporters see themselves as outsiders whose skepticism was underappreciated by big-party candidates, and whose perspectives are maligned by mainstream media.

Vox takes a look at the MAHA movement and how it appeals to the low-trust and conspiratorially-minded people.

[productofnfld]

A Strange Light at Lawn

It was 1889 and there were mysterious lights just off the coast of Lawn, NL.

The phenomenon had been occurring all through October and, by the end of the month, the Captain knew something had to be done.

He drafted a letter, parts of which appeared in the to the Evening Mercury on November 7, 1889.

“I wish to call your attention to a light seen on the Middle Island at Lawn,” he wrote. “It has been seen several limes since the first week in October; but last week it was seen every night.”

Nobody in Lawn knew what the light was. It looked like a lighthouse, except there was no such structure in the vicinity. On top of that, its interval was far too long.

“I was on the look out over Jersey Cove myself, with many others,” the Captain wrote. It appeared as “a revolving light, ten to fifteen minutes between the intervals. The flash is very bight, and can be seen for twenty miles. The flashes do not appear equally bright at all times. It is a very white light, but at times it appears between a white and a red light, and sometimes goes very suddenly.”

Setting aside any creepy feeling that might have accompanied the light, there were probably reasons for legitimate concern — if it were mistaken as a navigational light, it could lead to disaster.

“I consider it very dangerous to mariners,” the Captain wrote, “and that is the reason I call your attention to it.”

“There are all sorts of stories here about it;” he concluded, “but these are the facts.”

It appears the source of the light was never discovered.

Nearly 80 years later The Evening Telegram, recalled the incident as a piece of ‘Offbeat History.’ They suggested that the mysterious light, in later years “would be described probably as a UFO.”

Lawn’s Not Alone

in 1948, a somewhat similar tale appeared in the Daily News concerning a light seen off Bonavista.

“A mysterious light is seen at intervals in the Bay,” the paper reported. “This light has been putting in in its appearance for a number of years. No one knows what it is.”

The light was described as a reddish colour and it seemed to vary in intensity — flaring up, then dying down again. Sometimes it appeared as though the light were far out in the bay, still other times it seemed close to shore.

People who had seen the light from their boats claimed that the light “almost appears to come aboard the boat and then suddenly disappears.”

The Rev. Canon Bailey, noted local clergyman, was of the opinion the light might be caused by “some substance on the water thrown off by a certain kind of fish.”

“No doubt,” the paper reports, “this light is due to some strange freak of nature.”

Whatever the real cause of the light, it spawned a series of stories including the idea that the light might be a ghost ship, lost in a storm years earlier. The ghost ship, it was said, appeared whenever bad weather was on the way, perhaps trying to save other mariners from their terrible fate.

Weather Lights

The weather light phenomenon — the idea that mysterious lights appear in the water to foretell storms — is fairly widespread in Newfoundland. I’ve written elsewhere of weather light stories, I heard as a child of the Eastport peninsula.

Are there ‘weather lights’ in your part of the world? If so, I’d love to hear about it.