#The forest keycard location

[a-killer-obsession]

PITCHING TENTS ⛺️

Kid Pirates x AFAB Reader Modern AU Campground Series

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

It wasn't something you'd ever admit to those who knew you, they all made the reasonable assumption that you went camping to spend time alone. At first, that had been the case, but you'd quickly come to learn that other single men your age were doing the same thing, and you found yourself loving the thrill of a romp with a stranger.

Masterlist || AO3

PART 1/6 - LAY OF THE LAND

CW: None for this chapter, just R18 mentions of sex.

WC: ~3k

Taglist: @nocturnalrorobin

A/n: I'm vaguely setting this in my home country of NZ, based on a campsite I frequent, for entirely selfish purposes but also because it's easy to describe a place you've been to a million times. Anyway, when I mention forests those are the kinds I mean, no fear of a rogue bear or mountain lion ✌️

You pulled into the quiet campsite in the middle of nowhere as you did every year around this time. Set between large mountainous hills covered in dense forest, and boasting a pool heated naturally by nearby geothermal activity, the site was a popular, bustling location in the on season. You, however, enjoyed the off season, when it was quiet, almost entirely abandoned save for the grounds keeper and his dog, and a handful of long term residents, living out their retirements in quiet bliss in the RVs that lined the very back of the campgrounds. You parked your humble car in front of the office that was built alongside a small shop, usually selling entry and icecreams to locals who came here for the pools, but also held a selection of basics such as toilet paper and cup noodles for campers in desperate need of a grocery trip.

The gravel that lined the carpark crunched underfoot as you made your way to the wooden ramp that led to the office and store building, the whole complex no bigger than a shipping container. The eggy smell of sulphur from the nearby geothermal activity filled your nostrils, unpleasant at first but a smell you'd quickly get accustomed to as you always did. A bell rang as you opened the door, the older woman assigned to mind the store today hurrying out from out back, you could hear the TV she'd been watching as she came out front. This time of the year customers were nil to none, so the counters relied on bells for service, usually unmanned otherwise. The chances of someone stealing from the store while it was unoccupied were slim, but you could assume they had a camera set up to watch from a screen out back anyway.

“[Y/n]!” The old woman exclaimed, taking her seat behind the desk, “I was happy to see you on our books this morning”

“Can't miss my mid-year vacay, Marg,” you replied with a smile, pulling out your wallet and leaning against the desk. You'd been coming here for years, and Margie had worked here for just as long. “What do I owe ya?”

“Minus the deposit you already paid, that'll be $65 sweetheart,” she smiled, clicking a few buttons on the keyboard at a snail pace as she worked on printing a receipt. You handed her the cash and the til made a clunk as the drawer popped open, Marg replacing your four twenty dollar notes with a five and a ten and handing them back to you. You slipped them back into your wallet and she handed you a keycard for the gate that kept pool visitors and strangers out of the campgrounds. Well, their cars anyway, they could absolutely just walk around it.

“Usual spot sweetheart, I'm sure you don't need a map,” she stood to return to her back room. She was definitely getting older, and standing was clearly more difficult for her than it had been in previous years. You'd be sad the year you came to camp and weren't greeted by her friendly face

You thanked her and made your exit, getting back into your car and making sure to roll down your window. You slowly made the short distance to the card receiver, leaning out your window a little to hold the card against it. A small light flashed green and the metal arm creaked as it began to raise. Your car was small, so you didn't have to wait for it to raise completely before you were passing underneath it and navigating the familiar gravel roads to your favourite spot. There were no additional parking spots at each spot, you were expected to either park on them or leave your car in front of the office, so you pulled onto the grass alongside the road between the brick lines that marked the boundary of your spot.

Your usual spot was close to the middle of the grounds, directly across from the communal kitchen building, and just a thirty second walk from the main toilet and shower block. There were other, smaller toilet blocks scattered around the grounds, but this was the only one that featured showers and laundry. The kitchen building was also just a nice place to hang out, having a semi covered outdoor area framed by benches, one of the only places other than your own rented spot where you were allowed to drink alcohol, so it was a great place to meet other campers. At first glance, anyone would think a lone woman coming to a campground on the off season was here for peace and quiet. On the contrary, you found during the busy season there were usually far too many large families and happy couples. The off season was for singles, and you were here for one thing and one thing only: sex with strangers.

It wasn't something you'd ever admit to those who knew you, they all made the reasonable assumption that you were here to spend time alone, always turning down offers from friends to join you. At first, that had been the case. A spontaneous camping trip in the middle of the year to cool down after a particularly stressful project at work finally wrapped up. But you'd quickly come to learn that other single men your age were doing the same thing, and you found yourself loving the thrill of a romp with a stranger. The campsite being so empty also made for additional excitement, after many years here you'd had sex in or on most of the campground's amenities. The kitchen, the pool, the showers, on top of a laundry machine. It was an excitement you struggled to find in the big city you came from, without wasting money on a hotel room there was no good way to have sex with a stranger without being caught and without them knowing where you lived and getting attached, because like hell were you going to a strange man's house on your own.

You quickly set about working on your tent, pulling item after item from the back of your car and setting up with well practised speed. Soon you were closing the car boot and admiring your work. A decently sized, two chambered tent - the first chamber holding your cooler and a small fold down table for prepping a quick snack at night. The kitchens had multiple large fridges available for use, but you liked to keep your beer and soda in an ice bath in your tent for easy access. Every morning and evening you would go to the small camp store and buy a bag of ice, but for now the cooler was empty. The second chamber was larger and held most of your belongings, as well as a queen sized, double layered, inflatable mattress, already set with comfortable bedding. You even had a small fold down side table and camping lamp, which had a handle for late night toilet visits, and you'd run an extension cable from the site provided power you'd paid extra for, to your side table, so you could charge your phone and laptop from the bed. There was no internet here, and barely any phone signal, but you'd downloaded plenty of movies, tv shows and e-books before leaving home, as well as bringing a handful of actual novels, a switch console and drawing supplies. You weren't a fantastic artist by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a hobby you enjoyed and liked to practise anyway.

Outside your tent you'd also set up a small gazebo, after your first few years you'd gotten sick of being trapped inside the tent whenever it rained, and it also provided shelter for a large trestle table and tabletop barbecue so you could grill regardless of the rain. There were also a few collapsible chairs under the gazebo, a larger reclining one where you spent most of your time, and a smaller more basic one in case you had a guest. Aka another camper you intended to, or hand already fucked.

Satisfied with your setup, you took a quick break to check your phone and let your friends know you'd made it safe and sound, before climbing back in your car and heading to the grocery store in the small nearby town. The town was about a twenty minute drive away, a small oceanside tourist town that was mostly a pass through for those heading to a nearby famous beach, or to board boats or small privately run helicopters for whale and dolphin watching. You'd never bothered with the tourist traps, but you had once or twice hit the beach when you'd come during the on season with friends.

Thriving on local tourism, the town was humble compared to the city you'd come from, but large enough to have two supermarkets and a decent size home goods store, as well as a long stretch of boutiques and cafes. You head to your favourite supermarket, pulling into the half full car park and heading inside. You pulled up your list on your phone as you approached the doors, grabbing a trolley and setting about your shopping. Food for several days, beer, condoms, all very important. A novel that caught your eye, some trashy magazines, snacks for late night movies. A comically large cucumber caught your eye, and you snapped a pic to send to your friends with the caption ‘finally found a boyfriend 🥒💦’

Everything on your list gathered, you headed for the checkouts. A big, noisy, red ute pulled into the carpark as you started loading your groceries into the reusable totes you kept in the back of your car. It parked nearby and four fucking massive men jumped out, shoving each other and laughing boisterously. Definitely not locals by the looks of it, the back of the ute loaded up with what looked like camping equipment, tied down with straps and a piece of blue tarpaulin that didn't cover everything. You wondered if they'd be staying at the same grounds as you, it was the most well known in the area given its pool that was free use for the campers and the nearby hiking trail that offered incredible views of the entire area all the way out to the ocean. You licked your lips at their beefy builds, a girl could certainly dream, any of them would make a fine target for your sexual escapades.

The red haired one among them wolf whistled as he passed by, as you bent over the boot of your car to reach an extra tote that had fallen under a seat. You turned back to him, a hand on your hip, and winked playfully. He blushed, clearly not having expected that reaction, and his friends whooped and smacked him playfully. The group followed behind the redhead who was fleeing as fast as he could, and you continued packing away your groceries and returned your trolley before heading back to camp.

When you got back you unpacked everything, putting your chillables in the provided fridges, your name written in clear black marker over each package, and filled your cooler with the bag of ice you'd grabbed from the camp store on your way in before putting your beer and soda in to chill. The food that didn't need refrigeration was stored in your tent in a small latchable plastic box to keep any rodents away. All done with your chores, you ate a quick lunch of some pre-made food you'd grabbed at the supermarket, and decided to hit up the pool.

You made your way back up the gravel path from the pool, slide on sandals on your feet and a towel wrapped around your body. You were still in your bikini, your wet hair sending droplets of fresh water from the rinsing shower down your body. You watched a bird native to the area fly overhead before the sound of boisterous laughter caught your attention. Usually, at this time of the year, campsite guests would pick locations far away from each other, most people came here this time of the year to be alone. The grounds were arranged in blocks, each block holding ten or twelve sites, split with half to one road and half to another. There were a good amount of blocks, the grounds could probably accommodate a good couple hundred people at its peak, though right now you could only see three other tents far from yours.

You could hear the group before you spotted their red ute, the same one from the grocery store, obscured by your own setup until you got closer. They'd rented what looked like multiple sites right next to yours. Usually, you would be annoyed, but being that they were all so delicious you were delighted. This was going to be a successful holiday indeed.

The group was made up of four large men. There was the redhead who had whistled at you, he looked to be the youngest of the group, as wide as he was tall with a thick scar that ran down his face, giving him a natural bad boy appearance. He was soft looking, but in a strong, could definitely throw you over his shoulder sort of way, like a boxer. You noticed now that he was missing his left arm, it must have been facing away from you at the store. He wore eyeliner, which you noticed now they all did, along with a vibrant red lipstick that matched his hair. He looked very punk in dark ripped jeans and a leather vest he wore open, showing the scar that ran over his torso, along with a big fuck-off belt buckle and multiple silver chains hanging from his belt. The nails on his one hand were painted a darker red, and he had a black fabric headband holding back his wild hair.

Next was the shortest of the group, though certainly not short by normal standards. Dressed in a simple blue t-shirt and jeans, his impressive blond hair went all the way to his hips. His sharp featured face was partially obscured by messy straight bangs and a fluffy goatee, his lips painted purple as he flashed a bright toothy smile at the redhead.

The other two both dressed in a punk aesthetic much like the redhead, two slightly older men with impressive heights, one of them towering above all four of them. The shorter man had pale blue hair set in dreads, his face covered in unusual scars and thorn like tattoos wrapping around his neck and down his arms. The taller hid his hair under a black hoodie, but you could see pointed sideburns peeking out under them. He looked deliciously muscular under the tight netting shirt he wore.

The four of them were going about their setup, four separate single chamber tents laid out on the ground to sort their positions while the blond and tall one carried an excessive amount of grocery bags to the shared kitchen. It was just as well there was hardly anyone at the camp, they'd need a whole fridge on their own with that much food. Deciding to make your intentions clear as soon as possible, you laid a towel over your reclining chair and grabbed a beer, relaxing in your bikini that showed off your fit body. The redhead was quick to notice, and you tilted your sunglasses to wink at him. He realised why he recognized you and you heard him swear and scurry away. Cute.

You watched their entire setup process hungrily, watching their muscles flex as they unloaded the ute and set things in place. The redhead was no help with the tents, so he worked on setting up smaller things like their large barbecue and chairs while the other three got the tents erected. You couldn't help but notice that they hadn't brought a gazebo, they must be newbies. Hopefully the weather would be fine for however long they were staying, you hoped for more than one day, and given the amount of food they had you would guess at least three.

All of them eventually took notice of you, catching sly glances where they could. The blond one seemed the most confident, openly flexing and showing off, flashing you wide grins that you eagerly returned. Oh you would definitely be climbing that tree. The redhead continued to act shy, doing things that were clearly to show of his strength but refusing to meet your eye. The bluenette gave you kind looking smiles, and the tall one looked at you with suspicion, which you always responded to by changing which leg was crossed over the other, giving him a full view of your barely clothed centre. It didn't seem to phase him though, curious.

Your phone pinged at some point and you checked it, starting a conversation with your bestie about your current view. She was the only person who knew the real reason you took these holidays. You snapped a quick, sneaky pic of the four men as they set up.

You: [one attachment] You: finally found a boyfriend 🥒💦 Bestie: LMAO finally a man that can satisfy You: might have found a few more of those Bestie: yeah? Good huntin? 👀 You: new neighbours You: [one attachment] Bestie: fuck me Bestie: or rather, fuck you, hopefully You: the blond one is giving me eyes for sure Bestie: yeah? You layin down that charm girlie You: lets just say i just got back from the pool, and im enjoying a nice beer on my recliner 👙 Bestie: yes queen! Give them a good look at that meal, they're gonna be eatin you up in no time! You: fingers crossed 🤞 you know im in dire need of a good fuck, heres hoping they're not all just a gay polycule, that'd be just my luck Bestie: well it sounds like at least the blond is dtf You: hes got a cute ass smile, cant wait to ride it 🤠 Bestie: girl you are nasty! 😂 Go get that dick queen 🍆 ttyl, ily! You: luv u!

You put down your phone and finished your beer, deciding you'd laid around for long enough and it was probably time to get started on dinner. It was already late in the day, if you were going to attract any of the boys it likely wouldn't be today, you needed the novelty of camping to wear off for them before they came sniffing around for more excitement. Not to mention you were tired from driving all morning and setting up. You pulled a few things from the kitchen, carrying them back on one of your plastic camping plates, and grilled yourself a steak while you scooped a few premade deli salads onto your plate. You enjoyed your meal while reading your new book, noting the smell of meat in the air and the sounds of sizzling and beer cans opening nearby as your neighbours settled in for their own dinner.

When it got too dark to read you took your dishes to the kitchen to wash them, grabbed your toiletries from your tent, and took a quick shower. The weather was warm enough to make the short walk in your nightie, so you strutted back to your tent with your legs and cleavage on proud display, your nipples pert under the satin night dress which was trimmed with thick lace, hanging from your shoulders by delicate spaghetti straps. You'd never have walked around in public like this if you had neighbours you weren't trying to fuck, but you were more than happy for the boys to look at you, and look they did. You gave them a short wave before you entered your tent, grabbing a new beer and your laptop and settling in to watch a movie.

[NEXT PART]

[vanismere]

A Deception of Yours and Theirs

Yuutsu observed everything in front of him. He stood in front of the hospital, a location provided to him by Merexium Company, as he looked over to the forest; he wondered if this was a good idea. He couldn't turn down the idea now... after all, he was an important employee according to the company. If he did this one mission, he would simply be able to quit his job once and for all. He just sucked up a disappointed exhale and proceeded into the hospital, his grip loose on the weapon given to him for whatever reason. Maybe it was for the wolves that lurked in the dark, deep forest, or a bear starving and will get its paws on a human. The hospital was lightly dim and thrashed. Spray paint was scattered across from the floor to ceiling. He moves over to the desk with the lamp and a provided keycard, soon hearing an announcement coming from the speakers. "Since Merexium Company owned this hospital back in time, we have free control over the speakers. Merexium Company asks of you to grab what we need as your secondary mission. You may hold any currency left around the hospital. Your primary mission is to get out here alive with the jewel. Proceed when ready." The announcement cut off after the last sentence, leaving Yuutsu to grumble under his breath. "Get out of here alive my ass. What the hell does that even mean? I'm not gonna trip over a stupid rock." He grabs the keycard and walks to the door, sliding the card as he opens it. He looks around the area, watching his step as he looks around. Drawers, boxes, a container that seems big enough for a human to fit in, and just random things. He raised an eyebrow at the container. He felt himself growing anxious, but he tried to brush off any growing thoughts and move on to the next door. He had to walk up the stairs now, and once he looked up, he felt dizzy all of a sudden. There were so many staircases that seemed endless. He didn't know how to feel but he walked up to the next door with more fear. What was this place? It shouldn't seem to be this long. This felt like it was going to take days; the thought made him feel exhausted right away. He just grabbed stuff from drawers, coming across a few flashlights and bottles of pills. He felt like the pills were going to be useful later, so he just shoved it into his backpack with a frustrated sigh. He kept going up the stairs, eventually getting to door 10.

"Wh...What the fuck is this place... I don't exercise...! How am I meant to go up this amount of stairs...?!" He was panting, holding onto his knees as he looked up. A random mutated nurse thing was up ahead. It snapped its head over to him, suddenly charging right at him with a huge pair of scissors. He stumbled back a bit in fear, falling right on his ass like an idiot as the nurse thing tripped over him, making a sound that made his body freeze up. It blindly stabbed the ground, trying to stab him but instead just getting the ground. He shakily moved away, realizing it was blind. His foot knocked back a rock, attracting the Nurse once again. It dashed to him again, this time he parried its scissors with his axe. He felt terrified, shoving it down onto the ground as he moved his axe down right into the chest of the Nurse, the adrenaline just pumping through his body. The metallic smell hit his nose, mixed with what felt like came from toxin fumes. He tried to not gag, looking back down at the unmoving body of the monster. He could see its flesh and organs. The blood was staining his clothing, and now into the ground. He felt disgusted at the sight, his eyes widened, and trying to catch his breath. He dropped the axe and cowered away. There was blood on his hands. He killed something--or was it someone? The thought of committing a possible crime made him shaky and tears threatened to come right down his face. Oh god. Was this what he had to deal with? He heard the announcement coming up, moving his head over to look at the speaker. "Cowardice will not be tolerated. Proceed now, or we'll let the collar explode now."

[thebriarthicket]

Maximum Rouge-like time :)

Edit: I fucked up the title of this thing but "Maximum Rouge" sounds like a good name for this

a couple of people wanted me to elaborate so uhhhh here :) (copied directly from my notes, kind of basic because i was brain-storming)

I think the basic premise would be the flock just flying from place to place (idk the reason why maybe they're on a mission to rescue all the mutants and experiments or something), while also trying to prevent the end of the world scenario that Itex is planning.

Freeing mutants has a chance of unlocking a playable character.

You can only have a maximum of four members in your flock. During exploration, the gameplay is free-roam, and you can play as a member of your flock, which you can switch on a whim. When a battle occurs, the rest of your flock will appear, and gameplay will switch to a top-down, turn based gameplay.

The outside world would probably act like a sort of hubworld/in between travel sections, while places such as labs, underground tunnels, government/shady buildings, maybe even forests would act as the dungeons you traverse through.

Starting characters

Max

Well rounded, with high speed

Fang

Well rounded, might have a “resistant to death ability”

Nudge

Can lower suspicion with a “makeover” ability

Good at finding things, can produce random items 

Gazzy

Has a chance of producing an explosive item

Relatively low in damage category

Iggy

Possible low accuracy 

Has a chance of producing an explosive item

Angel

Can “scout” for enemy locations

Focuses on putting status conditions on characters

Recruitable 

Ari

Randomly available after defeating ari at least once

Flock stability will drop a large amount upon recruitment

Slow-moving, but deals high damage

Dylan

Flock stability will drop a considerable amount upon recruitment

High accuracy, can self-heal

Maya

Practically has the same skillset as max, basically allows for two max’s on one team

Flock stability will drop a considerable amount upon recruitment

Star

Very high speed, low stats on everything else

Kate

Very high damage output, low stats on everything else

Ratchet

Very high accuracy, low stats on everything else

Holden

Can self heal in high amounts, can heal others

Things to keep track of

Hunger

A high hunger count results in poor performance in characters (low hp, low damage, low speed, etc)

Flock stability

Instability in the flock can cause members to straight-up leave. If instability is brought down however, those members may come back.

Suspicion 

Letting the suspicion meter get too high increases chances of being ambushed. These surprise attacks are hard to beat, and if your flock is defeated, you will be captured.

Escape: if captured, the flock have a chance to escape, at the cost of items being stolen upon capture, increased suspicion and endgame for the rest of the run, and whatever damage you take during the escape. If your flock is defeated during an escape attempt, its game over.

Itex Endgame

Over time, the endgame meter will increase. Things such as getting captured will make it increase even more. Ways to decrease the endgame meter include things such as defeating bosses, completing dungeons, and freeing mutants.

Collectables and items

Explosive

Item that can be used during battle to deal large amounts of damage (be careful: it has a small chance of malfunctioning, either missing completely or dealing damage to your flock instead)

Foodstuffs

Decreases hunger, heals a small amount

Keycard

Used to get into locked areas

Password 

Used to unlock certain terminals that can drop lore and story details, and also acts as the end goal of a dungeon 

Medicine

Standard healing item

Possible Enemies

Eraser (of course)

Often encountered in groups

Deal high damage, but are slow

Flyboy 

Stronger versions of erasers that are encountered later in runs

White coat

Capable of summoning and healing reinforcements 

May drop medicine

Specific white coats may drops passwords and keycards

Soldier

Goomba enemy, but too many can get difficult to manage

M-Geek

Stronger versions of Soldiers, encountered later in runs

Very fast, with high dodge chance

GoBots

Encountered very later in runs

��Ambush enemies”: these enemies are completely invisible at first, the only tell being a small whistling sound (angel or ari has a chance of making a comment about it: “There’s a weird whistling sound…”)

When triggered, they will start firing laser beams. Keeping track of where the lasers are firing from can help in finding the invisible Gobots. When hit once, they will become visible, and start using shields. The player will need to wait until the moment one stops using a shield to deal damage.

Bosses?

Uber director

Stationary boss

High health pool (i know hes just a bunch of organs in boxes, but i gotta make him difficult to fight somehow, the boxes are probably durable as shit or something)

The flock will need to destroy the organ boxes first before moving on to the director himself

GoBot reinforcements

Uses dodgeable attacks that can stun the flock for a short time

Omega 

Will deal very high damage every few turns

Has a high stun chance against him

Ari (maybe even ari clones)

Like erasers, deals high damage but slow moving

Can summon eraser reinforcements

Game over conditions

Letting Itex Endgame get too high, thus resulting in the end of the world

Letting suspicion get too high, and failing the escape attempt

Flock becoming defeated

[lawodcom]

Those who are brave enough to explore w... https://www.lawod.com/sons-of-the-forest-all-keycards-location-guide/?feed_id=8307 #gaming #game #videogame #pcgame #xbox #playstation #nintendo #steam #lawod

[madmaryholiday]

tonight's sons of the forest update:

have acquired two of the three keycards i need to....advance the story i guess? found a fancy dinner party full of dead mutants, which was fun. i can make some guesses as to the overall story now, but i'll save them for when i get further into the plot.

i also now have a shotgun and a crossbow, which should make hunting significantly easier.

my steam deck overheated while i was on my way to the last keycard location, so i'll have to retrace maybe 10 minutes' worth of walking, but it's not a big deal.

noticed that the designation for the game's viability on steam deck has changed from "unknown" to "incompatible" or whatever the doesn't work tag is. which like yeah it taxes the CPU like whoa, but the controls work fine, and the text is mostly readable. it also runs pretty okay on the lower graphics settings, only noticeably dropping frames when the steam deck is close to overheating.

but i'm also playing solo on the least-taxing graphics settings possible, so....

actually, yeah, this game is currently not very playable on the steam deck unless you're like me and can also tolerate only playing a couple hours at a time.

it's still a lot of fun, though. and even on peaceful mode, it's creepy as fuck because all the bodies of the people the cannibals massacred are still there, mostly EXTREMELY fresh-looking. you get this feeling like the monsters are watching you even though you know you won't encounter any on this difficulty setting. the cannibal camps have buckets of fresh entrails in them, and there's blood splatters in all kinds of interesting places. they really did a good job with the atmosphere.

[maniapolh]

The forest keycard location

For this reason, players should consider killing troublesome civilians, bagging their bodies, and throwing the bags into the water.Īt any point during the mission it may be helpful to eliminate the camera operators, of which there are two, one on either side of the map. Skills like High Value Target Aced and Sixth Sense can also be rather useful.ĭue to the large numbers of wandering guards and civilians it may be particularly difficult to hide cable-tied civilians. Fortunately, there is relatively little randomization to the guard and civilian spawns and their patrol routes, making it relatively easy to anticipate where guards will move next. There are a large number of guards (more than 20 on Mayhem+), civilians (up to 15) and security cameras (up to 15) on the map, hence extreme caution must be taken when eliminating guards and civilians as there is often a risk of discovery and panic can rapidly spread. Walkthrough Stealth General notes on stealthy approaches to The Bomb: Dockyard There could also be a keycard or radio here. Computers can be used for finding GPS targets. Computers can be used for finding GPS targets, or you might find Morretta's comm frequency. A terminal here might hold the Morretta's comm frequency. This gate will open automatically once the ship moves to Dock 3B. This is the Left Control Room for the Dock Gate. This is the Right Control Room for the Dock Gate. We gotta open this Dock Gate to get the Moretta to Dock 3B. Once you execute all the necessary steps. The number of favours does not scale with difficulty. In this heist, the crew is restricted to a maximum of 10 favours for preplanning. Preplanning once again provides a wealth of options and flexibility in Dockyard, with some all-new assets available for use. Take the bomb parts to the van/helicopter/boat.Hack the ship control terminal( 300 seconds).It and the Forest are the first missions developed by Lion Game Lion. It is the first part of The Bomb heist contracted by The Butcher. The Dockyard is a heist in The Bomb Heists DLC, released on January 22, 2015. I have a problem." -The Butcher offering the heist " I have learned that any problem can be solved with the careful application of explosives.

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

My Heart Is A Safehouse For You

 Santiago Garcia x Reader

Word Count: 2,927

Rating: T 

Summary: Set prior to the events in the Triple Frontier universe. There is a 3 year contract to obtain intelligence and dismantle as many cartel related activities as possible - hopefully leading up to toppling one of the most prolific traffickers in Columbia. Can the reader help the team decipher the cartel’s next movements, and will they possibly lose their heart in the process? 

Notes: Taking all the background liberties with this one. Littering everyone’s backstory we know from the film and pretending the guys banded back together for a 3 year contract mission, that paid them pretty decently and kept them relatively at low risk. 

Not beta read. 

-------

Running a safehouse was no easy task. Sure lots of people walked through your doors. Most of the time on short term contracts. Because of this, you made a rule to never let your personal feelings get involved with anyone. Strictly professional relationships. You had a clear set of boundaries. 

That was until one day, 5 ex-military walked through your door and changed your life irrevocably.  

Most short term contracts were somewhere between 1 month and 3 months. But a year ago you were assigned a group of men who would be working out of your safehouse for three years.

That wasn’t short term, at all. 

You were up front with them from the get-go. No nonsense. Everyone had to be extremely vetted if they were to reside or visit this safehouse. You didn’t have an explicit ban preventing visitors, but you made it clear, if any of the guys who weren’t married had an inclination to bring a girl home for a one night stand, they should take their business elsewhere. 

You weren’t about to jeopardize anyone’s safety over a quick fuck. 

There were a swivel of heads towards Garcia, when you got to that part of the conversation. You had just met him, but apparently there was history in regards to your comment. 

The moment your eyes landed on the man in question, there was some weird gravitational pull you felt towards him. You shook it off at the time, abruptly ignored the feeling. 

“Fuck you guys,” Garcia deadpanned to the others, shaking his head. 

You cover your snicker with a cough, and attempted to get things back on track.

After an hour of meeting with them, you could tell they were all going to be trouble. 

The house stayed off the grid for a reason. Highly classified information was occasionally housed within the confines of these wall, and you were in charge of assessing and decrypting all new intelligence that came your way. The safehouse was pretty removed from civilization, but not enough to be suspicious. The house was located in a small town, near a larger city suburb in Columbia. It was isolated on the outskirts of the town, surrounded by forest. For the most part it was obscured from view, unless you were really looking for it. 

There’s only one accessible road to the house, and since it sits on the edge of the field that leads into the jungle, there is a clean exit strategy if required.

The safehouse may appear ordinary on the outside, but it’s been modernized with smart technology. There’s a garage separate from the house off to the side hidden by overgrown trees. A small, but comfortable porch out front, there is a larger lounging area out back with a hammock. It’s where you set up a discreet target range for anyone who wants to practice firearms into the open field. You were far enough removed, the noise would be minimal and not draw too much attention. 

When you enter the house from the front, there is an open common room ahead, There’s a coffee table, couches and a media center set-up to watch television and stay up on current events. If you were to look to your right, there would be a hallway that leads down to a large space on the left. That would be the gym. There is also a door on that side of the house you can enter through with a keycard. 

Your room is almost halfway down on the right-hand side. It’s the only bedroom on that side of the house. 

Looking to your left, if you walk past the common area, there’s a elongated table bench that’s adjacent to the kitchen. 

If you walk through to the other side of the kitchen, you enter a hallway. To your right, the hallway ends shortly, leading you back to the common room.

There are 3 bedrooms in the hallway outside of the kitchen. Benny, Frankie and Pope all sleep over there. Garcia taking the room closest to the back door, which is almost nearly around the corner from him. Benny took the far room at the end of the hallway by himself, and Frankie’s room is on Garcia’s side across from Benny. If you turn right out of the kitchen, you pass Garcia’s room and head back into the common area. There are floor to ceiling tinted windows next to the back door.

There is a continued hallway like yours on that side of the house. Will and Tom took the remaining bedrooms down that way. There’s also an office you occasionally use for work related business. 

The place was spacious enough, but with five guys milling about most of the time, it got pretty noisy. You were used to quiet lulls during the day. It was an adjustment to say the least.

You, yourself, weren’t military at all. 

A consultant for the local government and liaison, between the private contracts that come through. Most all were off the record and classified to protect their identities. 

You chose to be here, strictly on your terms from the government. 10 years ago you were a graduate student at MIT. One of the youngest to ever be accepted into the program you applied for. There was an organic chem professor who was in deep with the wrong people. At the time, he was in severe debt with one of the cartel’s in Columbia. Through family relations, he lost product and blew money without care. It finally caught up to him. 

When it was all said and done, he struck a deal with the cartel to provide them someone who could design a lab that would increase their production and develop a new biochemical weapon. The cartel labs had been getting snuffed out, and they want to protect themselves from their enemies. 

Of course, what you didn’t know, what that the professor put a target on your back. Selling you out to the cartel as being the one who could make all the dreams come true. 

They grabbed you after graduation. A perfect storm of events. You had just moved all your belongings to a storage unit and planned to take off the next year to travel. Because of how young you were, you didn’t have any friends. They were more often than not disinterested or jealous of your intelligence. 

You had lost your family long ago. So there was no one who would know you were missing. 

They smuggled you out of the country and dumped you into a deserted mountainous area of Columbia. Not a soul for miles and miles. 

They told you what they wanted from you, but you simply laughed in their faces and told them to take a running jump off the highest peak in the Andes. 

That didn’t go over too well with them.

It took 5 years before you could escape. Five years of your life lost. Days you would never get back. You had to reverse psychology the shit out them to get them to keep you alive and continue obtaining all your fingers and toes. That didn’t mean the torture was any less painful though. 

You escaped one unexpected day, after finally agreeing to build them a biochemical weapon. It was actually an explosive device. You built a remote to activate upon the push of a button. It would send a frequency to the device and detonate. The cartel members also weren’t privy that you placed smaller explosives in and around the compound you were being held at. So when you detonated, a chain reaction would occur, destroying the entire complex inside the mountainous area. 

Somehow, you survived. 

You collapsed 2 days post explosion after hobbling through the rough terrain of the Andes. You don’t remember much, but you woke up in a small village near a US black site. 

The explosion had sent an alert to the nearby unacknowledged site, causing inquiries to be made. 

You were flown to a hospital stateside, where you recovered. It took over a year to put your body back together. Multiple broken bones and scar tissue from being tortured over such a long period of time. Not to mention the mental solitude of everything that happened. There was a heavy toll. 

You were interrogated by the government at length. Once cleared of any wrong doing, you were freed, but offered the chance to work for the government given your experience and knowledge. 

You agreed to consult with them, on terms that you set. Not willing to be a puppet to anyone. You found yourself back in Columbia working to destroy any and all traces of the drug traffickers. You wanted to make sure that what happened to you, never happened to anyone else. 

The guys don’t know that part of your history, and it’s been 7 years since you managed to put your life back together. 

They constantly razz you about not dating anyone, but you simply shrug and tell them it’s a decision you made a long time ago. 

It’s the only part of your life you don’t share with anyone. Too much pain. It’s hard to date when the guy you’re with takes a look at your scars and gives you ‘the look���. The one that says, ‘you’re broken.’ Or worse, they simply pity you. And to hell with them. 

You decided after trying to date and failing, that it was in your best interest to protect your heart by not being in a relationship at all.

So here you are, a year into spending your life with these 5 men, trying to make the world a little bit of a better place.

Your time with them has given you pause. That maybe they were trustworthy enough to share parts of your life, you’ve kept hidden away. 

When you spend so much of your time together, it’s inevitable the lines will blur. Try as you might to keep things strictly professional, somehow - you’ve gained a family. Your friendship with each of them, unique. 

It’s Garcia that toes the line with you, though. He makes you second guess yourself and the decision to not date anyone. Garcia flirts. Outrageously so. But he respects your boundaries, so it’s always playful and generally harmless. You’re pretty sure, you’re not his type anyways. He has someone he’s been seeing regularly.

Because of your history, you spend a lot of nights not sleeping. Night terrors are the worst, and you don’t want to wake your friends up regularly screaming bloody murder. They’d start asking questions. They aren’t idiots, you’re certain they could figure out what’s wrong. Will especially. He has an intuitive radar for that kind of stuff. So, you stay up as much as possible in the hopes, you’ll crash into dreamless bliss. 

OOOOO

You figured out you were in love with Santiago on an ordinary day. It was like a punch to the gut that knocked all the wind right out of your lungs. 

Everyone took Saturdays off. A day to decompress and not think about anything cartel related. It was also a popular day for the guys to gather in the common room and watch sports. Benny was always the instigator to call everyone in. You weren’t overly interested in the games, but you were polite enough to keep them company while you either read or did some research on your phone. 

Garcia had a habit of sitting next to you. He lets you use his side as a prop to get comfortable and read while stuffing your feet into the couch ends.

You can vaguely hear Fish and Garcia arguing about who’s moving on to the playoffs. You were about to make a snide comment about how they were both going to be wrong, because they have the worst picks - but when you turned your head towards Garcia you lost your train of thought. 

Santiago wasn’t even doing anything special. He was animatedly talking with his hands and making these hilarious gestures. You watched him laugh at Frankie’s response, taking a sip of his beer, and that’s when it hits you. 

You couldn’t breath. You swallowed heavily, frozen with the knowledge that you were in love Santiago Garcia. All because of his stupid hand gestures and his stupidly contagious laugh. 

There was a nudge from your side and realized Pope was poking at you.

You flinch, knocking yourself back to reality, blinking rapidly. You grab Garcia’s hand laughing, stopping him from provoking you more, “What? What? Can I help you with something?”

“You okay there space cadet? You had this funny look on your face. Thought you had a stroke or something.” 

“Oh, someone brought jokes today,” you antagonize. 

You heard Frankie pipe in, “Pope tells the absolute worst jokes. Trust me.” 

Smirking at Fish, you can always count on him to help you out in a pinch. Because just like clockwork, Garcia starts in on Frankie, exchanging choice words in Spanish. 

You let go of Santiago’s hand and move away from him, dropping your book on the coffee table in front of you. After a few minutes, you stand up, stretching. You raise your arms over your head from being cramped on the couch so long. As you lower your arms, you turn to look at Garcia.

There was a twist of head movement, eyes focusing on Tom now, who had joined the conversation. 

If you hadn’t known any better, you would have sworn Pope was checking you out. 

Unlikely at best. He’s way out of your league, and the woman he’s seeing is much more beautiful than you. It’s not that you weren’t confident in your looks, but you’d classify yourself as more adorable than beautiful. It was a moot point anyways, you were self conscience enough as it is regarding your scars. 

You must have spaced out again, because Frankie speaks up this time, “You sure you’re okay there sunshine?” 

You huff in annoyance, but not at Frankie, yourself. 

“Good Fish, I was just going to grab something from the kitchen. You guys want another round?” 

You pivot away, intent on getting out of there as quickly as possible - lest you nearly embarrass yourself again.

A few of the guys chimed in, that they’d take another beer. So, off you went to the kitchen. On your way out, you caught Will’s gaze. 

He gives you a raised eyebrow. 

Dammit. 

You just smile and shake your head at him that you’re fine as you pass him by. 

In the kitchen, you open the refrigerator and start collecting beer bottles to take back into the room when you hear a voice right behind you.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on with you today?”

Unprepared for the close proximity and intrusion, you yelp and spin around, two bottles in your hand. 

“Jesus. Fuck. Will. I swear I will put a bell around your neck,” you grumble, slamming the refrigerator door close with your foot and thrusting the bottles into his hands to take. 

He just laughs at you. Enjoying your obvious discomfort.

You hear Tom yell from the other room, “Everything okay in there?” 

“Fine!” you and Will shout at the same time. 

Will hands you one of the bottles back. 

“I’d like to think I know you well enough to know when something’s up with you. You’re jumpy and distracted,” Will quietly voices. 

You drop your gaze from his, picking at the label on the bottle you’re holding. After a beat, you dart your eyes back up to Will and open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Leaning against the counter you silently sigh. 

Picking up on your body language, he motions for you to follow him, “Come on - let’s take a walk.” 

Wordlessly, you shuffle behind Will as you both head towards the back door. 

“Where are you two going?” Garcia pipes up. 

You didn’t get the chance to answer, before Will took the reigns, “Out. We’ll be back in a short while, not going far.” 

Looking at Santiago, confusion flickers over his face, gaze travelling between the two of you. 

“Okay,” Garcia says disjointedly. 

Benny has a questioning look on his face as well, staring at Will. You couldn’t blame him. It does look slightly suspicious in hindsight. You both don’t spend an exorbitant amount of time one on one. 

You wanted to roll your eyes, but stopped short. He’s married for God’s sake. 

Wanting to dissuade the situation, you let them know you took some extra beers out and put them on the counter. 

With that, you both step outside and start walking towards the practice range set up for them overlooking the field. 

You lean against the fence, continuing to nervously pick at your bottle, eyes focused on the house. 

The sound of Will’s beer cap twisting off, grabs your attention. Your eyeline moving back to him. 

He takes a swig of his drink, before setting the bottle down on top of a flat wooden surface.

“Start talking.” 

[stars-falling]

latibule (n) (elriel)

summary: elain and azriel hide themselves away from the world, seeking a moment of peace from the rivalry between their schools.

prompt: there were a lot of fights and a lot of fraternisation going on with the local public school and the private boarding school au

word count: 2.1k

note: here is the second july upload! this was another piece i did for the writing month challenge. i loved this one because i got to return to my favourite tropes, secret relationships and forbidden romance!

hope you enjoy,

lily <3

read here on ao3 // masterlist // july upload schedule

*******************************

latibule (n) a hiding place, a place of safety and comfort

The forest was dark. Silver moonlight shone down through the smallest gaps in the canopy and shadows filled in the rest. Armed only with her phone’s flashlight, Elain felt afraid. Usually she wasn’t scared of the dark but when it pressed in, suffocating her on all sides, she could feel her heart race and breath shorten. It wasn’t far to the clearing now but time seemed to slow with every step she took. Every snap of a branch or rustle of leaves sent Elain panicking, her pace ever-increasing until she was almost at a full sprint. The path only seemed to get longer as she ran but she pushed harder until she stumbled into the small clearing.

It was slightly brighter here, moonlight streaming in through the wider gaps in the canopy above. It was bright enough that she was able to see after she turned her phone’s flashlight off. Despite the light and space around her, nothing could stop the anxiety from pressing in. The sensation of someone watching her sent a wave of chills down her spine and when she spun around she was greeted only by that oppressive darkness that had followed her as she made her way there. She shivered slightly, wishing she had brought a proper coat. Elain was clothed solely in her thin pyjamas and wishing that she had paid more attention. In her excitement, she had dashed out the door and forgot to grab the hoodie that she had left out for herself. She had barely remembered her keycard.

The silence was thick around her, only punctuated by the occasional hoot of an owl or the call of a nocturnal animal. It was almost peaceful and Elain let herself relax ever so slightly. That was until a branch snapped behind her and she twisted so quickly she almost fell. She stared into the darkness, there was no one there; only a strong sense of dread lingering in the cool night air. She let loose a breath before a voice sounded from behind her.

“Elain.”

She let out a shriek and tripped over a root as she tried to get away. A hand around her waist caught her fall and spun her around before pulling her into a hard chest. She looked up with fearful eyes to see amused hazel ones gazing back. The person cracked a slight smile at her reaction to their arrival. Elain let out a sigh of relief and wrapped her arms around them, burying her face in their chest.

“Azriel.” She breathed.

The small smile on his face widened into a full grin and she felt herself doing the same. That was until she remembered how her heart had leapt into her throat when he scared her. She pouted at him and smacked his chest. “Don’t scare me like that!”

He let out a full-bodied laugh that dispelled any ill will she felt towards him and soon she found herself joining in.

“I’m sorry,” he told her as his laughter subsided. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Although I may do it again now that I know how funny you look when you get scared.”

She scowled and pushed out of his grip, immediately regretting it as the cold flooded back in and embedded itself deep inside of her.

“Don’t you dare! I won’t meet you here again if you do.”

Now it was his turn to frown. He held out his arms but she refused to step back into his embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I won’t do it again.”

Still, she refused to return to him. A mischievous expression grew on his face and she only had a second to register it before he launched himself at, arms at the ready to scoop her into a hug. She shrieked again, although this time it was less out of fear and more out of amusement. She burst into a sprint just as his arms closed around the space she had just vacated. She ran in circles around him, leaping and twirling over the uneven ground with the grace of a ballerina. He ran after her, both of their laughter echoing off the trees and filling the clearing with unfiltered joy. However, Elain could only run around the small area for so long. Whilst the moonlight provided enough light to see, the floor was still dim, meaning she couldn’t see the root that jutted out in front of her. She felt her foot catch and she stumbled into a tree, arms out in front of her to stop her from fully crashing into it. She righted herself and turned in time to see Azriel behind her, his arms coming to rest on either side of her head, caging her in. They both breathed heavily, winded from the unexpected exercise, but smiling. They stared at each other, the adrenaline wearing off and love taking its place instead. Azriel leaned in, face hovering close to hers waiting for permission. She nodded and closed the space between them. Time seemed to pause as her lips met his. He leaned forward, deepening the kiss and pushing her further back against the tree. Heat rushed through her as she felt his tongue brush against her bottom lip and she opened up beneath him. Elain gasped as he swept in and she brought her hands up to tangle in his hair. It was soft beneath her fingers. She tugged slightly and he let out a light moan as he detached himself from her lips and began to kiss along her jaw and down onto her neck. One hand removed itself from the tree, so she was no longer caged by his arms, and instead found a place on her hip, fingers moving to slide beneath the thin fabric and brush against her bare skin. She let out a huff as she felt his lips move against her neck before tugging at his hair again.

“Stop, you’ll leave marks.”

“I’m being careful,” he murmured against her neck before returning to lightly nip at the one particular spot that made her knees weak.

She laughed, “You said that last time and I had to wear turtlenecks for a week after.”

He detached himself from his work to stare at her, his dark hair flopping over his eyes.

“I got carried away.”

She hummed as she placed a gentle kiss on his lips before wrapping her arms around his middle and pulling him close to her. They stood, wrapped in each other's embrace under the moonlight for what felt like hours. A deep sense of peace enveloped her, all previous feelings of fear and cold drifting off into the clear night sky. Finally, they moved away from the tree Azriel had pressed Elain against. They chose to sit side by side in the centre of the clearing where a small patch of grass separated them from the cold hard ground. She leaned her head against his shoulder as he bought an arm to encircle her waist.

“I’ve missed you.”

She sat up, turning to take him in properly for the first time that night. He sat in pyjamas, like her, but he had his favourite hoodie on to protect him from the night's chill. The moonlight caught his hazel eyes and sent them sparkling, highlighting the veins of green that resided in them. He was beautiful, and he was hers.

“I’ve missed you too.” She told him before placing her head back onto his shoulder.

As they sat in silence, in the middle of the night in a clearing in a forest, the truth about their situation settled in. A burden that only they seemed to carry. Humans are pack creatures, they are loyal to their groups, and this felt like an ultimate betrayal. Elain and Azriel went to different schools, Elain attending the private boarding school that the forest belonged to and Azriel attending the local public school in the town. To those who were outside of the situation, it sounded like they were being dramatic but to them? It meant everything. A deep animosity ran between the two schools. Those who attended the public school believed that the private schoolers were ‘greedy, egotistical pricks with sticks up their asses’ whereas those attending the private school deemed the others unruly and beneath them. No one knew where the intense rivalry had stemmed from. Maybe it was the private school buying up the forest that surrounded them, banning the town’s residents from entering what was once a precious location to them. Or maybe it was the time that some boys from the public school had broken into the private school’s grounds and released so many rats that they struggled with an infestation for years afterwards. Either way, pack mentality had taken over and now every time the two schools interacted it ended with insults being hurled, items being vandalised and even full-blown fights. And the worst of them all were the two sets of siblings who ruled their respective schools. Azriel and Elain’s siblings.

The Archeron sisters and the Knight brothers had always disliked each other after a bucket of slime intended for someone else had landed on Nesta, Elain’s older sister. The situation had only escalated from there but Elain and Azriel had never partaken personally in it. They only tagged along with their siblings whenever they wanted to pick a fight, which was how they ended up meeting. Elain’s sisters had crashed a party thrown by Azriel’s younger brother, Rhysand, bringing a whole host of their preppy private school friends. The evening had ended badly. There had been two hospitalisations with broken noses after fights had broken out and the police were called. Elain had snuck away long before anything had really happened and that had been when she had bumped into Azriel. They hadn’t realised their respective relations at first and had exchanged numbers after spending the whole evening together, away from the crowd and drama of the party. Even when they discovered the resentment that ran deep between their siblings, they found themselves not caring. They were too wrapped up in each other's company to worry about a rivalry they had never cared about in the first place. And when Elain had finally kissed Azriel, any remaining doubts had flown away on swift wings as they realised how deeply their feelings went for each other. Despite their disinterest in the conflict, they knew they had to keep their relationship under wraps. It would destroy their family, their reputations and everything they had built. Which was how they ended up here, only seeing each other briefly every so often and hiding away from the world.

“I wish things were different,” She whispered, shuffling closer as an icy breeze snapped around her exposed ankles and sent a chill up her body.

“Me too.” He replied. “I wish we could see each other whenever we wanted, that I could take you on dates in town without worrying what people would think, that I could tell people how much I love you.”

Elain felt her heart stutter and her eyes widen. She leaned away from Azriel, moving to sit in front of him so she could look him in the eyes. Whilst it had been heavily insinuated before, neither of them had ever taken that leap. An expression of worry washed over his face.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I do- I do love you, but please don’t feel pressured to say it back.”

Azriel’s nervous rambling and blushing cheeks only served to make her fall harder. She shut him up with a gentle kiss on the lips, raising her hand to cup his cheek.

“I love you too.”

She pulled back in time to see the brightest smile she had ever seen. He let out a sigh of relief and bundled her into his lap so he could hold her more comfortably. Despite his warmth, the cold still crept into Elain and she found herself shivering slightly. Azriel frowned at this before pushing her away slightly so he could pull off his hoodie and hand it to her. She examined the bundle of material that now sat in her lap.

“Won’t you be cold?”

“I’ll be fine,” he promised her. “Besides, you look cute in my clothes.”

She giggled lightly at this as she pulled it over her head. It was warm and far too big for her, but it only added to the charm. She snuggled back into his arms and looked up at the stars above. The situation they were in was complicated: a road riddled with potholes and glass, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. But that could wait. For now, they had the forest, the stars and each other. And that was enough.

*******************************

taglist:

@amusedowl @court-of-fuck-me-daddy @akb12348 @illyrian-bookworm @actuallyacotartrash @thesirenwashere @julesherondalex @1islessthan3books @verifiefangirl @rhysanoodle @sadbitchlorcan @thefangirlofhp @abraxos-is-toothless @elrielllll @b00kworm @maastrash @rosssas @illyrianbeauty @nightcourtcinnamonroll @ireallyshouldsleeprn @tswaney17 @secretbondsandloveconfessions @sleeping-and-books @thewayshedreamed @rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @the-laughing-bubble @123moiaussi @onceupona-chaos

let me know if you would like to be added/removed from my tag list!

[crystalninjaphoenix]

MerMay 2022 Day Twenty-Three Whistleblower

Ollie knew he wasn’t supposed to be here. Sure, even though the TridentCorp guys gave all their hired boats directions to their super-secret complex, that didn’t mean they wanted the people who sailed those boats inside that super-secret complex. The only reason the hired boats had the location in the first place was so they could drop off any of the “creatures” they found. No going inside required.

But for some reason, Ollie woke up in the middle of the night, suddenly certain that he couldn’t stand by any longer and let these merpeople be discovered. It was the strangest thing, really. He’d been uncomfortable with the operation from the start, only joining up to possibly help out his mer-friends that showed up at the docks. But when he awoke that night, he was seized by the drive to do more than just keep an eye on things. Ollie wasn’t usually the impulsive type, but the next thing he knew, he was heading down to the docks and taking his boat out without permission from his boss. He was probably going to be fired.

So here he was. He’d sailed a good few hours to get to the coordinates, and it was now five in the morning. The journey had been tough, since he usually didn’t sail the boat all by himself, but he...he felt like he had to do this. Thankfully, because it was so early, most staff at the complex—the C-SAHL, as he’d heard it called—were still asleep, with only a skeleton crew for security. He was able to walk right in.

This was, without a doubt, the biggest building Ollie had ever stepped foot in. The main body was a giant cylinder, the size of two American football fields. It rested half in the water and half on the shore of the atoll island, all white metal and glass. A few sections jutted off from this tower, all vaguely circular as well. Most entrances to get into there needed a keycard or passcode, but the entrance to the main building was wide open. It was kind of strange, really. Ollie was sure a place like this would have better security than this. But he chose not to question his luck.

As he wandered through the halls of the massive C-SAHL building, Ollie took out his phone and snapped as many pictures as he could. Anything that seemed remotely important was captured by the small camera. There were a couple staff members wandering around, but nobody questioned what he was doing there. Again, sort of odd. But whatever, maybe they were too tired to care.

Ollie continued to wander inward, until eventually he found a wide-open circular space with a giant glass tank in the middle. He stopped for a moment, taking in the sheer size of this structure. “My god,” he muttered, staring upwards towards the top of the tank a hundred feet above. As soon as he processed everything, he immediately started taking pictures. It looked like the tank was divided up into a few sections...meaning if he wanted to be really thorough with the pictures, he’d have to climb up several flights of stairs to get a good look at all these sections. He groaned at the thought of it. But he had to do it.

The bottom section of the tank was filled with coral, a vibrant rainbow reef growing on top of rocks. It looked real, too, not like that foam shit at aquariums. The second from the bottom was a wide open space with a simple sandy floor, much like the open ocean. The middle was a forest of tall, green sea plants. The second from the top had tall rocks in strange shapes. And the topmost section—

“Gah!” Ollie jumped backwards as something suddenly smacked into the side of the tank. After getting over his shock, he immediately recognized another merperson. It fit the description that had been passed around after the initial capture. Green, with a long dark tail and glowing eyes. Although the description failed to mention the sharp teeth, claws, or honest-to-god electricity coming from the tail. “Holy shit!” Ollie gasped, staring.

The merperson—merman? Could you apply human gender rules to merpeople?—pounded against the glass wall. Were they glaring at him? “Hey, don’t look at me like that,” Ollie said. He glanced around the balcony area. Nobody was around...Quickly, he took a few photos of the merperson.

Strangely, the merperson shrank away when he pointed his phone at them. “Huh? Oh, don’t worry, it’s just a phone.” Finishing with the pictures, Ollie put his phone away. “It can’t do anything to you. Besides, there’s this glass in the way. Probably thick glass, too.” He smiled, but that only made the merperson more anxious. “You, uh...I know you can’t hear me, but...you doing alright?” Ollie tried to show his concern on his face. He wasn’t sure if it was working, considering the merperson just glared and bared their teeth. “Well...I’m gonna help get you out of here. Promise.”

And then the sound of footsteps echoed across the open space. Ollie gasped, spinning around to look for the source. Someone was coming up the stairs! There wasn’t anywhere to hide on this floor, it was just a balcony.

Panicking, Ollie quickly headed around the tank, going as fast as he could without making too much noise. He had barely disappeared around the curve when the source of the footsteps walked onto the balcony.

Unfortunately, the merperson saw him run for it. They swam back into the center of the tank, watching him. Ollie heard a female voice say, “Wo schaust du hin?” He gestured wildly at the merperson, trying to get them to look away. But that only confused them.

More footsteps, walking around the tank towards him. The only thing to do was continue along the balcony. Ollie stepped carefully, not daring to run when he knew his footsteps would echo. Hurry, hurry, hurry—the footsteps were getting closer—!

There! He’d circled back around to the staircase. Quickly, Ollie headed straight for it, ducking behind its railing and crouching on the first step. He held his breath and listened as the footsteps stopped. “...huh,” said the female voice, puzzled. “Hast du mir einen Streich gespielt, Zitteraal? Weißt du, was ein Trick ist? Interessant.”

Ollie waited, but heard no more footsteps. The voice continued to talk in German, probably addressing the merperson the same way he did. He relaxed—but only a little. The close call told him it was probably time to get out of here.

It was as uneventful getting out of the C-SAHL as it was getting in. In just about ten minutes, Ollie was back in his boat, getting ready for the hours-long trip back home. It would be the middle of the day by the time he was back at the docks. God, he was so fired. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Before he headed out, Ollie opened up the photos he’d taken, looking through them. He had proof...but what to do with it?

The idea came to him as suddenly as the desire to set out in the first place, taking hold with an equally strong grip. He had to send these pictures to someone. Someone who could help. And for some reason, an email address popped into his mind. He couldn’t help but open up his mail app and start drafting a message, attaching all the photos he’d taken and writing down the coordinates of the C-SAHL.

It was only after the message was sent that he really it was really, really weird to suddenly send proof of merpeople to a random email address that he somehow knew. Ollie leaned against the wall of the boat’s cabin and wondered what the hell just happened. He looked back down at his phone, opening up the ‘Sent’ inbox of his email to see who he was compelled to message.

“...Who the hell is Stacy Aguado?”

[thefantasticalblaze]

Tips for Jack to not die in SCP: Containment Breach

As someone who has done a speedrun of the game in 20:51 (not the record, I believe the record is 10:12), I've compiled some helpful hints to progress through the game without getting your neck snapped. These will be separated into VAGUE HINTS and SPECIFIC HINTS; the specific hints will contain spoilers for later on in the game.

VAGUE HINTS

Don't go in the room with the floodlights unless you're doing an achievement run

Do not take the picture from the bear in Heavy Containment

Only go in the surveillance room once you're well-prepared.

SCP-914 (clockwork machine) is your best friend.

049, 096 and 173 can all be heard when they're nearby with audio cues specific to them

008, 055, 106 and 173 can be recontained. In fact, 008 must be recontained to enter heavy containment

You can use the console command "stfu" to turn off unnecessary noises, however, you will lose out on the achievement of not cheating.

Most of the announcements mean nothing.

Do NOT trust Nine Tailed Fox (Epsillon-11). They will shoot you on sight.

If you walk through a corridor and see a bear standing in the middle of it, don't hang around. Just run straight through the corridor without looking back. Don't worry about the noise it makes; if you're far enough away, you'll be fine.

Disable the remote door controls to visit SCP-079.

Trust SCP-079 for the easiest escape.

035 is not worth your time to bargain with

1499 can be used to store things like extra batteries and medkits.

SAVE OFTEN. The game runs on a really old engine and is prone to crashing randomly.

ESCPECIALLY save before messing around with 914, in case you accidentally render some of your items worthless.

914 is not, however, a safe zone.

Certain areas have specific events that trigger once you're inside them. Learn what these are and how to utilize them.

Most SCPs exist just to kill you, especially the ones that sit in a room on their own. Don't waste your time.

939 (red dog things) have a pattern that they walk in. Take your time, but don't be afraid to run.

Turn off the video feed in 895's control room to live.

SPECIFIC HINTS (stop reading here if you don't want spoilers!)

The sheet music, the floodlights, the skull, the bell and the hole in the wall are all killing machines or just there to scare you. Don't waste your time.

1499 is a pale gas mask that will take you to a different dimension when worn. This is where you can store your items.

SCP-914 can upgrade several items. The only settings you want to use are "Fine" and "Very Fine". A gas mask on either Fine or Very Fine will get you a Super Gas Mask, that allows you almost unlimited Sprint, and Sprint will regenerate back much more quickly. A ballistics vest on Fine will get you a Heavy, and on Very Fine a Bulky Ballistics Vest. All three of these reduce bullet damage from guards. A level 2 keycard, on the Safe difficulty, will guarantee you a level 3 keycard on the Fine setting. There's a 1 in 10 chance of getting a Level 4 from a Level 3 when on Fine, otherwise you'll get a Mastercard, which is basically useless. A level 4 card, however, will guarantee you a level 5 keycard when on the Fine setting and the Safe difficulty. You can put a Mastercard in on the "Fine" setting to get a Level 2 keycard again. The night vision goggles on the "fine" setting will give you night vision goggles that are tinted red, and do not require batteries to operate. They also somewhat resist the effects of SCP-012. If you put yourself in one 1:1, it will invert your mouse controls. Rough will kill you, Coarse will cause blood loss (curable using a med kit), Fine and Very Fine will cause increased speed for a short time, but will kill you in the end. Putting in the navigator or "S-Nav" on Very Fine will give you the S-Nav Ultimate, which will show you when some SCPs are nearby (049, 096, 106, 173 and 895) as well as the nearby layout of rooms, and it doesn't require batteries

SCP-500 will cure you of any ailment. It's best used if you forget to put on the hazmat suit before enter 008's chamber, otherwise it's just a medkit in a pill.

SCP-860 is a blue key that will grant you passage through a wooden door you may run into during the game. You will need a Level 3 keycard to access the key. When you unlock the door, you will be taken to 860-1, a small forest. You will need to navigate this area and find another door that will take you to a different location inside the facility. However, there will be a creature stalking you in this forest. Take too long in there, and it will jump from the trees and onto the path, and attempt to kill you. It runs at the same speed you do and will kill you in one hit, so don't take too long in 860-1.

106's pocket dimension can be used as a shortcut if you're confident you can escape it.

You will need to recontain SCP-008 before you can enter Heavy Containment. To do this, locate 008's chamber, and there should be a Hazmat suit just before you enter the chamber itself. PUT THIS ON, and then enter 008's chamber and close the lid on the container in the middle of the room. 008 will be recontained. Exit the room, close the door and take off the hazmat suit

106 can be recontained in heavy containment. To do this, locate its cell and enter the control room. You'll see a video feed and several levers. You'll want to turn on audio transmission and then enable something called the "Femur Breaker". In the video feed, you'll see a seperate D-Class strapped to a machine, and very loud screaming coming from the speakers. This is normal. Keep watching the feed, and close the containment chamber when you see 106 enter it, and turn off audio transmission. 106 shouldn't bother you after that if you've done it correctly.

You as the player cannot recontain 173, but Epsillon-11 can. You may see members of this MTF wandering around with 173 in a small, mobile cell. This means it has been recontained, and you don't need to worry about it anymore. The MTF will still attempt to shoot you on sight, however. The best way to escape them is to wear SCP-1499 and camp in that dimension for about 1-2 minutes.

You are guaranteed at least one achievement when you finish the game, and that is the achievement for recontaining SCP-055. This is a nod towards the SCP itself, as it is an object, place or person that nobody remembers. The only thing the Foundation knows about it is that it isn't circular.

In the Entrance zone, you want to disable the remote door control system, then go and speak to 079. The computer will tell you that it can no longer work any of the doors itself, but that means you also cannot leave through Gate B, which is one of the ways to escape. It will then ask you to re-enable the remote door control system, and it will open Gate B for you. This is arguably the easiest way to escape.

079 will also tell you to disable the Alpha Warhead. It's up to you whether or not you do this, as whether you enable or disable it will determine what ending you get as you exit Gate B.

If you interact with SCP-035 and let it out, do not enter its containment cell. Only bad things await you in there. Like death.

SCP-895 is a wooden coffin that causes disruption to surveillance footage. When entering its surveillance feed, your head will be drawn towards the monitor. DO NOT LOOK AT THIS FOR TOO LONG. It will cause hallucinations that will eventually kill the player. A spiral flight of stairs leads down to the coffin itself. If you approach it, 106 will spawn before the coffin and pursue you. If you approach the coffin with night vision goggles, the same hallucinations will appear and kill you if you don't remove them quick enough. However, goggles upgraded through 914 do not have this effect. At any point, 079 can flash hallucinations of 895 through any video surveillance feed in the facility, which may also kill you. The only way to stop this is to disable the video feed within 895's control room.

045 can be heard nearby with its vocalisations (such as singing "Ring-a-ring o' roses" when searching for the player), 096 by its distinct crying, and 173 with the sound of scraping.

You are going to encounter ducks at some point again. You just will. They're harmless, however.

SCP-420-J can actually heal blood loss.

That's all from me! Good luck, don't die!

[barbariccia]

finding juliana’s daughter was about as difficult as taking a piss.

the geth have up up barriers around the entrance and exit of the exogeni building, so we can’t get in easily. tali, who i brought along specifically for the additional geth-related dialogue, says this is typical of the way they act: they deploy barriers to keep others out, and go ham.

so... why are they here, exactly? it’s not exactly their MO to terrorize colonies for no reason. er, yet.

Lizbeth: It’s an indigenous life-form. ExoGeni was studying it. I don’t really know that much about it. I think it’s some kind of plant being. I know it’s very old. Thousands of years, even.

lizbeth stayed behind to do some additional work as the geth hit, and wasn’t able to get out with the rest of the scientists, but she’s not exactly able to help us out with the geth everywhere now. she gives us her keycard to get into the building so we can go find out, and we hear an... all-too familiar gripe as we enter the building.

VI: If you have no more questions, please stand aside. There is a queue forming behind you.

we’ve all been there, buddy.

once we kill the krogan, we can access the VI terminal to find out what it was trying to access before us. we get that information easily as the terminal recognises us as lizbeth, due to her keycard.

VI: The previous user was attemping to access details on the study of Subject Species 37, the Thorian. I was unable to provide the previous user with any relevant data. Aside from lacking proper access, there has been no new data available on Species 37. All sensors monitoring the observation post at Zhu’s Hope have been inactive for several cycles.

Shepard: What does Zhu’s Hope have to do with the Thorian?

VI: Species 37 is located within the substructure of the Zhu’s Hope outpost.

oh, GREAT.

Shepard: Tell me everything you know about the Thorian.

VI: The Thorian is a simple plant life form that exhibits a sentient behaviour uncommon with other flora. Through dispersion and the eventual inhalation of spores, it can infect and control other organisms, including humans. The Zhu’s HOpe control group has yielded interesting results. Before sensors went offline, almost 85% of all test subjects were infected.

Shepard: Are you saying ExoGeni knew its people were getting infected?

VI: It was deemed necessary to assess the true potential of Species 37. [... It] was discovered several weeks ago when a small team was infected with spores while examining ruins near the Zhu’s Hope outpost. The outpost was quarantined immediately and study of the infection began.

VI: Within 21 days, 58% of colonists exhibited altered behaviour. Within 28 days, 85%.

so, current climate notwithstanding, this isn’t a totally made-up phenomenon!

[rubs my grubby hands together]

entomopathogenic fungi are a very real thing, utterly bizarre and downright terrifying to consider. the best known is ophiocordyceps unilateralis, sometimes mistakenly referred to as a cordyceps fungus. the fungus targets a specific host - Camponotini ants - and changes their behaviour toward the end of their life cycle, turning them into what’s colloquially known as ‘zombie ants’. once infected, the ant falls from its aerial trails (which is fascinating in itself, ants that live in the high canopy of tropical forests as opposed to on the ground), climbs a nearby plant of a particular height and other variables and attaches itself to the leaf, where it dies. the fungus continues to grow, eventually strengthening the ant’s exoskeleton and securely attaching it to the plant, and continues to grow until fruiting and releasing more spores, which other aerial ants will eventually fall to, be infected, and continue the cycle.

ophiocordyceps are not, of course, the only mind-altering parasite in the world. acanthocephalans worms infect their prey and causes serotonin to be “massively expressed” within the prey body; apocephalus and other phoridae ‘zombie flies’ infect bees, whose behaviour then changes; and of course, there are plenty of parasites that induce suicide or risky behaviours in the hosts they infect.

i find it very important to note that the parasites that induce this behaviour are almost universally animals (insects top the charts), and that true mind-altering infection from a plant is strictly fungal-only at this point in time. and man, who even fucking knows if fungi are alive or not - not just mushrooms, but things like yeast and mold. it’s interesting in mass effect’s context that they’ve gone with a plant rather than an alien in the sense that we think of them.

ok. parasite plant. spores aren’t going to be easy to fight. and, er, i’ve been walking around with my helmet off...? (granted, the helmet toggle is an aesthetic function when you’re planet-side.)

h-how big...??

Shepard: Is it intelligent? can I reason with it?

VI: The Thorian does not exhibit the focused behaviour of a predator. The release of spores is an act of survival, not aggression. It does trigger advanced behaviours in the humans it enslaves, but we have yet to discover whether it recognises - or is capable of recognising - humans as more than tools.

VI: It is sufficiently alien as to defy classification at this time.

Shepard: Do you know how it controls its slaves?

VI: The will-subversion manifests as intense pain if directives are ignored. The effect is severe enough that subjects are soon conditioned against even minor thoughts of rebellion. Observation suggests the Thorian views its thralls in a utilitarian way. Care is apparently taken to avoid injuring them. As long as no action is taken against the creature’s objectives, the subjects are free to pantomime a normal existence until specifically tasked with something.

hey, remember that woman screaming in pain from those headaches? oh, and there was a guy in the sewers that i met while turning the water back on for the colony, who made very little sense and was in apparent agony!

:^)

[opalspromos]

OPALSHQ VERSE TEASER: the opal manor.

the opal manor, located just a few minutes away from the main strathmore campus, was purchased as a property by the society in the 1950s, for the purpose of housing the society members and their events. the manor is covered by a shallow grove of trees from the street, and members must have a keycard to access the driveway. it has since been tradition for the third-year members to inhabit the manor, although many also have other housing spaces as to not attract suspicion from friends wondering who their new housemates might be. prodigies ( second-year students ) initially only have access to the manor when invited: usually for parties, meetings, or meals. 

the grounds extend a couple acres outside on the rear side of the manor. most of the grounds are grassy and bushed areas, but there are a couple pathways that lead into the forested area of the grounds. there are a handful of fountains and statues donated by alumni. the main foyer is the location for many of the events held by the society, when the weather prevents the use of the extensive grounds. it also is the grand entrance to the rest of manor, leading to bedrooms and the library upstairs, with the rest of the house on the ground floor.

the dining room serves as one of the most important spaces of the society. it is the location of the society’s all-important weekly dinners, and serves as a meeting place for current members. discussions about the instruction process for second-years, as well as planning events, occurs here. members also often do their work around the table, appreciating the company of other members as they finish assignments. there are also a total of twelve bedrooms in the manor – one for each member of the third-year class. each of the twelve bedrooms is assigned by gemstone: the room is passed down from predecessor to successor. 

aside from main amenities, the manor also boasts some other features, frequently taken advantage of by its residents. the library, located on the uppermost floor, houses many volumes that are favorites to new and old society members, including some written by members themselves. the basement also houses the wine cellar, which holds hundreds of bottles of expensive wine, most donated from alumni, some straight from the vineyards of others. 

CLUE #5.

forged in the depths of bacchus’ remorse, i am a friend to travelers and lovers alike. recall the fourth letter of my name.

[believingispowerfulmagic]

“The Christmas Cottage” Chapter 2: Storybrooke

           Storybrooke was too small to have an airport, so Regina had to fly into Portland International Airport and drive the rest of the way. Tink had already made arrangements for her rental car but Regina still had to fight the holiday crowds to get to the rental desk. When she got there, the harried clerk handed her a key. “You’re lucky. That’s the last car,” she told Regina.

           “I didn’t know Maine was such a hot destination for Christmas,” Regina replied, taking the keys from her.

           The agent shrugged. “Everyone wants a white Christmas and we’re predicted to get a lot of snow between now and Christmas Eve. I guess they couldn’t resist.”

           “I guess,” Regina replied. She held up her keys. “Thank you.”

           “You’re welcome. Drive safe and have a happy holiday,” the agent told her, doing her best to smile despite how tired she clearly was.

           Regina rolled her suitcases out to the lot and found her car—the last Mercedes there. She loaded her big suitcases into the trunk before placing her smaller bags into the backseat. After settling into the passenger seat, she turned the heat all the way up and turned off the GPS but turned on the radio. Even after years of living in New York, she still knew the way to Storybrooke by heart. As she pulled out of the lot, Karen Carpenter crooned that there was no place like home for the holiday and Regina found it fitting.

           It was about an hour drive up to Storybrooke, which was a hamlet located on the Maine coast. She followed the highway for almost a half hour before turning off onto a mostly deserted country road that carved its way through a dense forest. Most of the trees had lost their leaves but were coated in white snow. Snow also covered the evergreens that were in the forest and, along with the Christmas music playing, Regina felt the Christmas spirit more than she had in years. A Maine Christmas clearly had nothing on a New York City one for her.

           A thrill went through her when she spotted the familiar white and blue sign welcoming people to Storybrooke. She smiled as she passed it, feeling a sense of rightness and calm wash over her. Though she wanted to get to her hotel and get something to eat, she slowed down so she could get a good look at the town as she drove through it—and so she didn’t get a ticket for speeding from whoever was sheriff now.

           It was about five miles from the town line to the first building, which was the ranger station. The building was locked up for the night but one of the evergreen trees outside the building had been decorated with lights and a star, welcoming Regina back. As she turned onto Main Street, she smiled at the other Christmas decorations that filled the town—including the lights, garlands and wreaths that hung over the streets from wires tied to the lampposts lining the curbs. Many of the stores and the apartments over them had lights and other decorations illuminating the dark December night. And she had to laugh when she spotted the familiar sleigh “crashed” into Granny’s Diner. There weren’t many people out at that time though she could see the diner was filled with many patrons. She figured it was too cold and so most people were seeking the warmth of being indoors, whether in their own homes or not.  

           She left Main Street and entered the more residential area, which was just as devoid of people but just as lit up. Regina looked at their decorations with a pang of jealousy, wishing she had the time and space to really go out like them. One day, she promised herself. Maybe next year if you make partner.

           As she drove down Mifflin Street, she tried not to look at the large white house bearing the number 108. She tried not to think of the days she spent running up and down that very street before going to greet her father when he got home from work at the cannery. And she tried not to think of all the happy Christmases they spent together in that house. But she failed and a lump formed in her throat as tears filled her eyes. While she loved the feeling visiting Storybrooke gave her, she also avoided it so she wouldn’t think of everything she had lost—especially her father.

           It also didn’t help that Elvis was now singing about how he was going to have a Blue Christmas.

           Regina swallowed past the lump as she reached the end of Mifflin Street, arriving at the harbor. Personal boats were moored at the marina, many of them covered in Christmas lights as well. Some of the ships in the harbor were decorated much the same and she smiled through her tears, always appreciating how much the Christmas spirit permeated through the town. It made her feel a little bit better as she made a left turn, heading away from the cannery and toward her hotel at last.

           The Mist Haven Lodge rose up before her and Regina took a moment to admire the building. It had been built during the Victorian era, the gables and the two red polygonal towers flanking the main building, painted white with red shutters, attesting to that. Red shingles covered the roof. The porch stretched from one tower to the other, red and green bunting hanging from the eaves. Evergreen bushes grew along the porch, matching the evergreen trees that surrounded the property, and were decorated for Christmas like the rest of the town.

           Regina had always admired the Lodge and had often begged her father to stay there. Her mother had scoffed at her request, saying it was a waste of money since they lived in Storybrooke and could just stay in their house. She also insisted that Regina was too young and immature to eat in the restaurants housed in the Lodge. “Our family is very respectable in this town. We don’t need you embarrassing us with your childish antics,” she had said, sniffing in disdain as her husband chided her.

           When her parents got divorced, Regina’s father Henry took her to the Lodge for dinner. He told her not to worry about anything and to just enjoy herself. She felt very grown up in one of her favorite dresses (a red one that had been her Christmas dress, she recalled) and she recalled the large ice cream sundae she had split with her father. While others she knew whose parents had divorced had a rough time of it, she was much happier without her critical mother around anymore.

           While her father got primary custody, Regina still had to spend time with her mother. Thankfully, her mother was not as big into Christmas her father had been and was often away on a child-free cruise during the holiday, so Regina could celebrate in Storybrooke with her father. She did have to spend a good chunk of the summer with Cora out in California and it became tradition that her father would take her to eat at the Lodge the day before she left and the day she returned.

           Yet they still never stayed in the Lodge.

           Henry had promised her that they would for her eighteenth birthday, saying he would book a full weekend package so she could be absolutely pampered. She had been so excited and had started to count down to her birthday.

           Her father had a heart attack right after that Christmas. She had raced to the hospital when she got the call from his secretary but there was nothing the doctors could do. Regina barely had a chance to say goodbye to her beloved father before he slipped away from her, leaving her. She didn’t feel like celebrating, even when those around her encouraged her to still go to the Lodge for her birthday. Or when her friends offered to send her after they graduated high school. It just didn’t seem right to go without her father and so she never stayed in the Lodge, that childhood dream remaining unfilled.

           Until now.

           She pulled into the driveway and parked in one of the spots reserved for people who were checking in. Leaving her bags in the car, she hurried up the porch and entered the lobby.

           Warmth enveloped her immediately and she paused, taking in the lobby. Gold carpeting lined a large area filled with wood tables, matching chairs and red couches. Old-fashioned lamps and telephones rested one some tables, making it feel like a rather large living room than a hotel lobby. White tile framed the area and a beautiful crystal chandelier hung over head. Her eyes travelled upward, taking in the five floors of the resort. Guests and staff walked along the hallways, some guests leaning against the railing to look down on the lobby from their floor. Everything always seemed so opulent and she now felt woefully underdressed in her black pants and blue shirt under her black wool Princess cut coat.  

           She kept to the tiled part of the floor as she walked to the front desk, located directly opposite the front doors. The heels on her boots clicked as she passed a little store and what appeared to be a bar area before she got to the desk. Regina pulled out the printout of her reservation confirmation, setting it on the counter as she smiled at the clerk waiting there. “Checking in.”

           “Okay,” the young man said, taking her paper. He typed something into the computer before nodding. “You’re here for the Blanchard-Nolan wedding?”

           “I am,” she confirmed.

           Clicking was the only noise for a few moments as he typed in her information, nodding as he pulled something up on the screen. “Okay, Ms. Mills, I have your reservation right here. I see you made an alteration to your reservation the other day, changing it to only one adult. Is that correct?”

           “Yes,” she said, fighting the bitterness and disappointment coursing through her. It was not the time to deal with those.

           “Okay, so do you want one or two keycards?” he asked her.

           “Two,” she replied. “Just in case.”

           He nodded, pulling two plastic cards out and running them through the scanner to put her room information on them. She watched as he tucked them into a cardboard holder, writing something on the back before he placed them on the counter. “Okay, you are in room 323. Most of the guests here for the wedding are staying on that floor. I’ve written the password for our wifi on the card as well. If you have any questions or need anything, do not hesitate to call us here at the front desk. We are here to make your stay as enjoyable as possible.”

           “Thank you,” she said, glad to hear there was wifi. She had a lot of work she needed to try to get done in between everything for the wedding.

           “We hope you enjoy your time with us here at Mist Haven,” he said before handing over a piece of paper. “This is your parking pass. Parking is in the back. Please park in spaces that are marked for hotel guests.”

           Regina thanked him, taking back her confirmation paper when she grabbed her parking pass. She headed back to her car and drove around to the parking lot, finding a spot not far from the side entrance. It took her two trips but she got all her bags out of the car and she settled into Room 323

           The room was painted a soft yellow color with an off-white carpet. A king-sized four poster bed sat against the wall, white blankets and pillows covering it. Two nightstands flanked it, a lamp on one and the phone on the other. A beautiful wooden desk lined the wall opposite the bed, complete with a lamp and several plugs there. Regina was relieved to find a comfortable looking leather chair there, knowing she would be doing a lot of sitting in it. She rested her suitcase next to the chest of drawers that had the TV sitting on it. A closet was located to her left along with the mini-fridge, ice bucket and glasses. Yellow curtains were pulled open, revealing she had French doors that led to a balcony.

           She walked over and opened them, stepping onto the white balcony. There was a small metal table and two chairs out there, though she doubted she would spend much time out there due to the cold. Regina leaned against the railing, admiring the beautiful view of the forest and mountains behind the resort. Lights from the hotel glistened off the snow and it seemed like a painting come to life.

           It was the perfect setting for Mary Margaret and David’s fairy-tale Christmas wedding. It was the perfect setting for a romantic Christmas vacation.

           And she was all alone.

           Regina pushed that thought away as she grabbed her phone. She hit Daniel’s contact and pressed the phone to her ear, counting the rings. Disappointment flooded her when his voicemail picked up but she tried to sound as cheery as possible as she left him a message.

           “Hey, Daniel. I’m settled into my room here at the Lodge. I’m in Room 323 in case you need to reach me. The room is absolutely gorgeous. I can see why people always wanted to stay here, especially given the good views. My room faces the forests but I’m sure the other side has beautiful views of the harbor and ocean.

           “Anyway, I’m going to get ready for dinner with everyone,” she continued. “I’m really excited to see them again but I miss you. Hope we can talk tonight. I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

           She ended the call and placed her phone on the desk. With a deep sigh, she opened one of her suitcases and pulled out her garment bag. It was time to get ready and to start the wedding festivities. And she was going to enjoy herself.

Continue reading on FFN, AO3 or Wattpad

[claitynroberts]

A Tale of Two Alphas: Chapter 3

Summary: (A/B/O alternate universe) After running from her family, (y/n), a female Alpha, turns to a life of hunting. Answering a call from Bobby to assist Garth and two other hunters on a vamp mission in Branson, she meets Sam and Dean Winchester. Determined, independent, and sassy as hell, Dean can’t control himself around her; causing him to become a not-so-smooth wannabe ladies man. When her family comes after her determined to make her take her place in the familial hierarchy, will (y/n) allow Dean to help out? Or will she give into her family’s wishes?

Word Count: 3102

Characters: FemaleAlpha!Reader, Alpha!Dean, Beta!Sam, Beta!Garth, Beta!Bobby

Pairings: FemaleAlpha!Reader X Alpha!Dean, all other pairings platonic

WARNINGS: strong language, canon violence, a woman not taking shit from anyone, smut (inevitable), A/B/O dynamics (heats, ruts, scenting, claiming, etc.)

(In my A/B/O au all genders are the same as the typical A/B/O rules/dynamics, except female alpha’s, in which mine are not hermaphroditic nor do they experience ruts. Instead they have typical lady parts and also experience heat cycles.)

Read Chapter 2 HERE | Series Masterlist

Chapter 3: If Hotel Rooms Were Like Pie

As the hunters staggered out of the house, Garth emerged from the forest surrounding the home, banged up but in one piece. Jogging over to the scrawny hunter, (y/n) gave him a once over. “You okay, Garth?” Even though she’s only hunted with him a couple times, a major soft spot was forming for this eccentric man.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he winced as he rubbed the back of his head. “I caught up to her, and we fought for a minute but she ended up colcocking me over the head and taking off. I woke up a few minutes later to the smell of smoke.”

“Well, at least she didn’t turn you into a juice box,” Dean said hoping for a laugh. Instead, Sam smacked his arm and (y/n) gave him a withering look; Garth looked like he wanted to laugh but the pity he felt for Dean kept him from it.

“Okay,” (y/n) spoke up. “Here’s what we are going to do. We’re going to go into town, and get a room. We need to blend in with the crowd, especially with a vamp on the loose. No telling what she’s cooking up.”

“There’s a by-the-hour motel jus—,” Dean began.

“No.” She glared at him. “We are not going to stay at some seedy motel. We are going to find a nice respectable place with decent beds and room service and lay low. Tomorrow we blow town and go our separate ways.”

After a short drive, the group of hunters pulled up under the bright green awning of the Palisades Hotel. It was an enormous twelve story building overlooking Table Rock Lake on the other side of town. Private gardens dotted the area surrounding the property, fountains placed here and there along with trellises of purple and yellow flowers brought the design concept together.

“Uh—,” a throat cleared, “um (y/n). I don’t disagree with your thought process, but isn’t this a little—I dunno, conspicuous?” Sam questioned.

“Eighty-nine percent of the hotels in the town are three plus stars. It’s a tourist destination, for God’s sake, there ain’t nothing inconspicuous about this town.” She said.

“Well how are we going to aff—,” Dean began.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it.” She cut him off as she swung herself down off the bike and strutted in the front doors of the lobby. Several minutes ticked by, leaving the boys nervously toeing the ground around their vehicles as their hackles began to rise, worried about the young woman inside.

A few heartbeats more passed, as she walked out the door, keycards in hand. After parking and grabbing gear and luggage, the hunters were on the elevator ascending the building to the twelfth and topmost floor. “We’ve each got our own key,” she said as she handed the three men an electronic door card.

Frowning, Dean looked at his. “Uh, (y/n), I think we’ve got the wrong cards.”

“No, we don’t.” She snorted. “They’re perfectly fine.”

With that the elevator dinged, signaling their arrival to the floor their rooms were located on. Turning left, (y/n) led the group down the hall. In this part of the corridor, the doors were few and far between. As she stopped in front of a set of white double doors, Garth read the placard out loud. “Presidential Suite,” it read.

Sliding the card and pushing the door open, Dean let out a low whistle. A large living area opened on a contemporary kitchen complete with stainless steel appliances and an island. The large windows at the back open onto a beautiful shaded veranda overlooking the water and forest surrounding the property. Hallways branched off each side of the living area, leading to what he believed were the bedrooms.

“I’ve got the master suite,” (y/n) began as she waltzed toward the larger bedroom. “Boys,” she said nonchalantly motioning to the opposite corridor with her chin, “y’all can fight over the other rooms.” Smirking she disappeared behind the door of the master bedroom, locks clicking into place.

The three men looked between them, and immediately took off for the plush bedrooms. Scrabbling over each other, pushing, biting, and pulling each other’s hair as if fighting over the last piece of cherry pie during a zombie apocalypse. Somewhere in the huddle, Sam’s giant foot ended up hooked around Dean’s ankle, tripping him so he fell face-first into the shag rug. Garth, while scrawny was wily, and landed more than a few elbows to both Sam and Dean’s ribs as they all hustled toward the doors.

By the time Dean was able to climb to his feet, Sam and Garth had each already settled down on the two queen beds in the two spare bedrooms, Leaving him the dog out in the cold. Grunting, he squared his shoulders and stood in Sam’s doorway. “Heya, Sammy,” he began, scratching the side of his nose idly. “Can I, uh, bunk with you? Y’know, like old times?” He grinned hoping the nostalgia will make him cave.

“Hahaha, right.” Sam said with a laugh as he laid on the feathery mattress. “Dean, you’re my brother and I love you, but...no. You cannot bunk with me.”

“Oh c’mon, Sammy. It’ll be fun.” Dean could feel his hope slipping, much like his smile. Sam looked at him derisively. Okay, time to play hard ball. He cleared his throat, “Sam, do you remember all the times I saved your life, thus leaving you in my debt.” Dean matter of factly held up a finger while smirking. “Time to cash that in.”

Furrowing his brow, Sam scowled at him. His mouth flattening into a thin line. “Dude, how many times have I saved your ass?” He asked. Dean opened his mouth to argue but instead ended up looking confused as he tried to think of a come back. “Exactly,” Sam finished. “Think we’re square.” He grinned at Dean as he opened a magazine that was left on the nightstand.

“Plus, Dean. I know what you do at night when you think I’m asleep.” Sam went on attempting to hide his amusement. “So I really, really don’t wanna share a bed with you.”

Dean blushed clear to the tip of his ears clearing his throat. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh,” Sam put down the magazine. “So if I check your laptop there won’t be searches for Casa Erotica, o-or...bustyasianbeauties.com?” He cocked an eyebrow and grinned so wide Dean thought his face may crack. “Oh! What about the animated Japanese porn you seem to like so much?”

The blush on Dean’s neck and cheeks turned from a light pink to a deep crimson red. He never thought Sammy was awake on those lonely nights he had to occupy himself in the dead of the night. “I-it’s not porn. It’s...it’s art!” He said attempting to save face as he spun on his heel and walked toward Garth’s room; Sam’s laughter bellowing from his door and following him down the hall.

Dean knocked on the doorframe of the room Garth had claimed. “Hey, Garth buddy. You up for a roommate?”

“Sorry Dean, no can do,” he said apologetically. “You see, I been sleeping in the ole Ranchero the last few nights and man, are my joints feeling it. Plus the weather is moving in and I can feel it in my knee.” He groaned as he reclined more on the bed. “Let’s face it Dean. I’m getting old and need the extra space to...what’s the term? Manspread?” He asked gesturing vaguely with his hands.

“Garth, you’re four years younger than me.” He scoffed.

“Yeah, but I ain’t had the luxury of coming back from the dead. You’ve basically got all new hardware.”

“And manspreading, that’s more for…,” he trailed off as Garth stared at him with his big soulful eyes, a smirk gracing his face. “Forget it,” Dean mumbled as he strolled back toward the living room. Throwing his duffel down, he flopped onto the couch and threw his arm over his eyes. Better get comfortable, he thought, it’s going to be a long evening.

————

Once everyone had a chance to clean up, and Dean yet again propositioned everyone with the opportunity to bunk with him, the four hunters made it downstairs to the hotel bar, seating themselves at a table in the corner. Soft rock was playing over the sound system as a young waitress approached their table.

“Hey, guys, I’m Mandy. Can I get you some drinks?” She asked politely to the table.

“Yes, a bottle of whiskey for the table please,” Dean said as his eyes ran up her physique. “Also, Mandy,” he grinned at her in the most charming way, “is there any chance the kitchen is still open?”

“It closes at ten, which is in about,” she looked down at her wristwatch gauging the time, “twenty minutes. Can I put something in for you all?” Her hand came to rest on Dean’s shoulder, giving him a light squeeze.

The boys put in their orders as (y/n) glared the waitress down for flirting with Dean. Imagining all the ways she could disfigure that pretty face came easily. “(Y/n)”, Sam said as he snapped his fingers in front of her face, breaking her out of her homicidal daydream. Coming to she looked around the table, noting the strange looks the boys were giving her, Dean’s quirked eyebrow included.

“What?” She asked.

“Can I get you something to eat, dear?” The waitress asked.

“Oh, uh, bacon-cheeseburger and fries. Condiments on the side please.” She replied sheepishly. God where did that shit come from, she thought. Dean wasn’t hers to be territorial about, and he certainly wasn’t worth the time, she chastised herself.

Minutes later, everyone’s food came and each hunter dove into the meal. The evening passed in polite conversation as they ate and drank, attempting to wind down from the night. Soon after, Sam and Garth decided to turn in, saying the events of the day, plus the bottle of alcohol had done them in. Leaving (y/n) and Dean alone to each other’s company.

“I’m going to go get another bottle of whiskey,” (y/n) stated as she stood up and walked over to the bar.

As she passed Dean, he leaned into her as she brushed by him, taking in a deep lungful of her scent. To him she smelled like grapefruit and jasmine with a touch of steel and gunpowder. And she was most certainly Alpha. The revelation made his cock twitch as his jeans tightened just a smidge. What the hell has gotten into me, he thought.

(Y/n) settled back into her chair, fresh bottle of whiskey in hand, as she refreshed both their glasses. Their fellow patrons had dwindled to a measly handful of people. A couple in the corner trying to seal the deal for the night, a few men hustling a game of pool in the back room, and a few other wayward souls dotted around the bar looking to drown one problem or another. As the two sat there, glasses in hand and looking around to their counterparts, the tension became thick. An awkward silence between two not-so-genial acquaintances filled the moment.

“So…” y/n began.

“Soo…,” Dean replied with a slight chuckle. After a moment he looked up at her. “This is slightly, awkward, isn’t it?”

Y/n looked down at her glass, hiding her face behind a curtain of hair. “Yeah, it is. I’m going to kill Garth for abandoning me.” She snorted.

“Sam knows better, too,” came his reply as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Look if neither of us are gonna go up to the room we should at least make an effort at small talk, right?”

Y/n looked at him, her eyes narrowing in contemplation as her mouth twisted to the side. Quickly she knocked back the rest of her drink, leaving Dean in suspense as she refilled it again. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.” Came her guarded reply.

“O-okay, cool. Cool.” Dean said nervously. He could feel his pulse pick up slightly fully expecting her to turn him down cold. He glanced around the room looking for some inspiration to a conversation starter as he tapped his fingers idly on the wooden table top. Geez, I’m normally a lot smoother than this, he thought. C’mon Dean, think. You can do this. Just talk to her like you do all the other women you sleep with...not that you want to sleep with her. Do you? Nah, that’s insane, you just met her. Yeah, well you had ‘just met’ all the others before…

Her questioning voice cut through his internal monologue. “That’s a nice car you drive. Had her long?” She raised her eyebrow waiting for a response as she delicately sipped at her whiskey.

“Yeah,” he nodded his head as he took a swig from his glass, “oh, yeah. She’s kind of a family heirloom. Dad bought her in ‘73, then he proposed to mom in the front seat. We’ve had her ever since. She’s been through, well, a lot. I rebuilt her several times, once from the ground up nearly.”

“Yeah? She looks mint condition.”

“Well nearly. I didn’t have the heart to get rid of mine and Sam’s initials whittled into the rear window deck. There’s also legos in the vents from when I was a kid, and a green army man that Sam jammed in the ashtray.” He smiled. “It’s the little things that make her special.”

“Yeah, it is,” y/n smiled down at her glass as she raised it to her lips once again.

“What about you, huh? A badass chick riding a 1940 Indian Chief? That’s something else,” he replied as he refilled both of their glasses.

Snorting she giggled at his exuberance. “First of all, why does it have to be ‘something else’ when a woman rides a hella cool motorcycle,” she lifted her hands, index and middle fingers of both curling down in an air-quote movement. “And B) his name is Duke.” Y/n finished matter-of-factly.

“Duke,” Dean repeated in a questioning tone as he dropped his chin toward his chest and raised his eyebrows, extending his bottom three fingers toward her on the hand his glass was grasped in. “And I didn’t mean anything bad by it, it’s just not common to see a hot girl driving a classic bike like that.” He shrugged sitting back in his chair.

A wistful faraway look crossed her face as she spun the glass between her fingers. “He’s named for my grandfather,” she replied to his unasked question hanging in the air.

Dean looked at her confused and skeptical. “You grandpa's name was Duke?”

Abruptly she looked at him and cocked her head to the side, lips forming a thin line as she narrowed her eyes at him. He’s getting too close, too comfortable, she thought, I need to knock him down a peg or two. “Well maybe if you could stop enjoying the sound of your own voice for two seconds I could finish what I was saying,” she replied sarcastically, taking Dean aback. He raised his hands in surrender, motioning her to go on.

“I spent my free time hanging out with my grandfather. He was big into cars and bikes and restoring the two. He wasn’t a typical chauvinist like the rest of my family and thought if I was going to spend time out there with him, I could at least learn something practical. So he taught me. All of it. When the weather was bad or he wasn’t feeling well, we’d spend our time watching John Wayne movies. Hence the name ‘Duke’.”

“Good name,” he said as his lips pulled into a line of agreement, eyebrows raised again, “and a smart man.”

Y/n’s mouth quirked up in a half smile as she got another faraway look in her eye. “I always thought so. He passed away last year.” Shit, she thought. I haven’t been able to say it out loud since it happened, now I’m spilling my guts to him? Get ahold of yourself. You don’t owe him jack shit.

“So, what’s your story,” Dean asked as he looked over the rim of his glass.

“What do you mean?” She replied, eyebrows quirked.

“Well, everyone’s got a story,” he gestured. “Sam and I lost our parents to a demon. We were born into the hunter lifestyle. We’ve caused and stopped the apocalypse. We’ve met angels and demons, not to mention God.” He jerked his chin toward her. “What’s yours?”

“What makes you think I have one?”

He sat there for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. “I think your story is the most interesting of all. A lone hunter fighting the bad guys. Not to mention you’re a female Alpha traveling alone. You seemed to have a great relationship with your grandfather, but you’ve not mentioned the rest of you family.” He shrugged, only scratching the surface with his statements, but as he went on he began clawing at old wounds that hadn’t healed yet. “Plus, you’re either well off enough to afford Presidential Suites in ritzy hotels, you know, daddy’s money type,” he leaned back narrowing his eyes, “or you’re running a real good game of credit fraud. To each his own, but sister, you’re lying if you say you ain’t got a story.” He pulled a swig from his glass.

Emotions she wasn’t sure how to deal with were bubbling under the surface. Unable to pinpoint whether it was truly her need for privacy or her insecurity regarding her family life she blew up on Dean. Chewing him up one side and down the other. “Listen here, and you listen good, Dean Winchester. I don’t make a habit of telling my life story to just any pretty boy hunter who happens to waltz into my life. Yes, I’m a female Alpha, and yes we tend to be a rare breed. As for everything else you presume to know about me, you can shove it up your lily white ass cause none of it is true.” She pushed back from the table abruptly, grabbing the bottle of whiskey off the top. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do believe I’ll turn in for the night.” She said as she marched out of the bar and to the elevator. Angrily slamming her hand against the button she pushed it over and over willing it to travel quicker.

Tags: @captainsherlockwinchester110283 @katsanders @speakinvain

[blessuswithblogs]

The Forest, Subnautica, and Survival: The Wages of Building a Cool Tree Fort

Spoiler Warning for both games as the article goes on! Do exercise caution.

I love survival games. That's just kind of a part of how my taste in games has developed over the years. I adore Minecraft, Terraria, Starbound and any number of creatively inclined "build and explore" games. I could think of a couple of reasons for this, the most prominent being that this kind of game is extremely good at making incremental progress feel rewarding, and that I've always had a fascination with habitation in extreme environments like the deep sea, space, and Magical Block Land where the Cacti Explode. Lately, I've been playing an streaming both Subnautica and The Forest, two games that belong in a sort of subset of the genre: Survive and Escape.

Both games start out with a cataclysmic (space)plane crash that deposits you and a number of other doomed survivors in a hostile world that wants to eat you. With Subnautica, you crashland on planet 4546B, an ocean world in which something has gone terribly wrong with the ecosystem. The Forest instead pops you out on a vaguely Canadian peninsula out in the middle of nowhere and cannibals kidnapped your son. Subnautica, as it is in most respects, has the more solid premise of the two. The Forest can scratch a kind of The Hills Have Eyes itch if you have one, but the overall setup of the game is sssssslightly too racially charged for my tastes.

In deference to alphabetical order, let's discuss the Forest first. Of the two games, it has the more robust crafting system. While it has overall less moving parts than Subnautica, you can still build a cool houseboat and you have a great deal of freedom in the overall shape and function of your buildings. In fact, that's originally what sold me on the game - I found the idea of having to build a base not only capable of sustaining you but also withstanding attacks from monsters to be very appealing. Base building can take a long time on your own (2 player co-op is a definite point in favor of the Forest versus Subnautica if you're one of those people that has to quantify the better game) but there are some things that can speed it along and make you feel like a regular Swiss Family Robinson - with all of the cultural baggage that entails. Completing a fort and finally creating a safe haven from the mutant hordes is a rewarding feeling, but it is one that the game almost immediately undermines.

The Forest is a game working at cross purposes with itself. It gives you the tools to create elaborate custom buildings or entire complexes if you so choose to do so, but there is also The Narrative, and The Narrative is most insistent on Finding Timmy. Timmy, your son from the beginning of the game, is assumed to be the player's top priority, but in actuality it's really easy to just forget about him. The game gives you a checklist of things to do as a sort of compromise between total freedom and a more linear experience. Most of the items on this list are some variation of "explore this cave". Cave Exploration is kind of where The Forest fragments into two separate halves: the crafty buildy survivey game, and a different sort of first person metroid slash cannibal murder simulator. The minute you enter a cave you basically go completely blind and have to rely on a variety of deeply inadequate light sources just to fumble your way around. The gameplay loop is simple - go into a cave, kill all the mutants, find a point of interest, go as far as you can until you find an impassible barrier, then retreat back to the surface. The points of interest are often interesting, to their credit, vaguely telling a story about A Deep Secret Beneath the Peninsula as you find various photographs and torn magazine clippings to gawk at for a few seconds, but it is impossible to shake the feeling that these spelunking expeditions have nothing to actually do with any of the other things you've been doing. You can find a number of useful objects in the caves - a flashlight, a map, a compass, a fine piece of hanzo steel - that will make your life easier, but are primarily designed to let you go into the caves Better and Deadlier.

Here's where we get to this stark divide: you don't actually have to make a base in the first place. All of the fantastic tools The Forest gives you to make your own log cabin city are, beyond Basic Fire and Temporary Shelter, utterly superfluous to actually progressing in the game. The weird thing about the caves is that they are actually borderline overflowing with supplies. The Forest has you spend your first couple of hours thinking that you're gonna really to have to grapple with the land in a titanic struggle for survival but actually you can just go into a cave and find like six respawning boxes of Fun Drink! soda and Snack brand snacks which work just as well if not better than like. Hunting for food and purifying your own water. Sleeping is entirely optional, too, something that becomes readily apparent down in the caves where it's always pitch black regardless of the day night cycle. You can easily manage just by building the occasional temporary shelter to save your game or just find one of the many tents already in the game world. There's a whole complex system of substats and sanity meters that you can basically just ignore as you go careening through the depths.

Progress in the caves is gated by two things: environmental obstacles, and enemy mutants. You will occasionally find a novel map feature like a climbable wall or an underwater pool too deep and dark to go swimming through without some help that will keep you from moving forward. You can blow up walls occasionally too, but not often or clearly indicated enough to make that feel like a genuinely well implemented system. To overcome these obstacles, all you have to do is find the right items - the climbing axe and the rebreather will let you go basically anywhere, once you get your hands on them. The world of The Forest is big, and it plays a dirty trick on you - most of the stuff aboveground is useless bullshit for idiots. Basically everything you want or need is down below, and if it takes you a while to realize that, I imagine that it would be pretty frustrating to feel like you had basically accomplished nothing for the last however many hours of exploring the lush but ultimately very empty forest floor.

Speaking of the game playing dirty tricks on you, there is one more instance of needing an item to get to where you need to go. But instead of some neat piece of exploration gear or a Really Big Stick of Dynamite, it's a keycard. The door that requires a keycard is at the bottom of an incredibly long and grueling run through several cave systems that empty out into the bigass sinkhole that dominates the landscape and taunts you with secrets and mysteries from basically day one. The keycard, regrettably, is not nearby. It's halfway across the world hidden in one of the many Super Fucked Up and Scary mass graves the mutants like to keep in their cave systems, requiring either foreknowledge or impressive pixel hunting tendencies to find beforehand. The game gives you a clue where to find it in the form of an old photo - located right before the door itself. It is a slog and a half, to put it bluntly, and since this is a survival game, you're working on a constantly ticking timer of hunger and thirst, and this particular cave system is quite stingy with soda and snacks where the other caves were giving them out like it was an afterschool baseball game. It might have actually been faster to simply reload a save file from before I even attempted the journey and just go get the keycard first, but I didn't think of that at the time. I'm harping on this because it's a huge departure from the fairly natural flow of cave exploration that came before and also a HUGE waste of time. Like, why. Fuck you, that's why.

The endgame sequence is kind of a mess, basically the devs realizing that the game had been in alpha for like literally 3 years and they needed to have some kind of conclusion in place for the full release. While I have no doubt that through the game's development history they had been most diligent about slowly developing and uncovering secrets about what's really going on in The Forest, the actual part where they have to put their money where their mouths are and provide some answers it's just. Kind of. Ehhhhhhhh. Basically you tumble headfirst into a SeCrEt PhArMaCeUtIcAl LaBoRaToRy where they were toying with ancient alien artifacts to create anti-aging cream or some bullshit which, somehow, ended up creating a race of weird mutants without private parts except in certain individuals who have like. ALL of the private parts and probably more besides. The Sahara Labs company even had this fucking supervillain Relic Laser System that shot down passing planes so they could abduct more test subjects away from prying eyes and honestly its like if you want to be that evil and kill people just jacking up the price of insulin is way more efficient and easier on the PR department.

Basically it boils down to you finding Timmy inside some alien bullshit device, dead as fuck, and pantomiming being very distraught about it. However, it comes to light that actually the machine he was hooked up to can bring people back from the dead in exchange for a sacrifice, so you continue deeper into the facility with even more murder than usual on your mind. You eventually find Megan Cross, the girl that Timmy's life force was used to bring back from the dead. Unfortunately, because ancient alien technology never works right, probably by design because ancient aliens are fuckers, Megan mutates into this fucking Resident Evil limbs monster and you have a fucking final boss fight. I aallllmost put the game down there because like. Seriously? Seriously seriously this is what we're doing? I have to use this game's janky ass combat systems to kill an angry little girl monster that can kill you in like 5 seconds if you get within 5 feet? I stuck it out because the devs were kind enough to just kick you back outside the Big Final Boss room with a health and energy penalty whenever you died (which was frequently). Eventually the thing dies and you go rushing back to Timmy with the corpse in hand. But, alas! The machine requires a living subject! After that you just kind of shuffle through some more cave systems with spooky skeletons in them until you find the control tower for the Airplane Killing Laser Beam and you are presented with... a choice.

You can either shoot down a passing airplane to kidnap a viable sample to resurrect Timmy, dooming every single passenger to a gruesome, cannibal related death... or you can just shut the damn thing off, which is really the only reasonable thing to do. Like, who the fuck even is Timmy? I don't know Timmy. Timmy can fuck off. Timmy wants to guilt me for building a gazebo? He can stay dead. It's the Fallout 4 problem all over again - you can't just take it for granted that the player is going to care about someone because you screamed "THIS IS YOUR SON" in the first five minutes of the game and then immediately deprived you of any meaningful interactions with them. It is the unfortunate tendency of parents to believe that their children are things owned by them, brought to the logical extreme. You have no reason to feel particularly compelled to rescue either of these kids aside from the simple fact that they're Yours, whatever that means. So when Shawn is actually the sleazy, amoral director of science fascists, fuck him. When bringing Timmy back to life means putting somebody else through what I just went through, keycard bullshit and all, fuck him! Enough! Time to move on! So I turned off the machine and escaped through some more caves and then I burned my picture of Timmy and got the crafting blueprints to a Timmy effigy made of cloth and sticks which was, admittedly, kind of hilarious. You also get one for your dead wife, which is just labeled "Wife". That was less hilarious and more of another look into the mindset of the people who make these games and why they are a problem. Also you can find another alien obelisk in a boat and open up a door to find a god mode sphere or something but I did not have the patience to go do that.

So I've been down on this game quite a bit, but I actually enjoyed my time with it a lot because what it gets right, it gets very right. Plumbing the dark depths of the cave systems with nothing but a shitty lighter for illumination and an airplane axe for protection, straining your ears for any noises that might break the deafening silence of the underground, constantly scanning the edge of your vision range for the signs of movement in the shifting shadows - it's a fantastic horror experience that a lot of games could learn from. Similarly, the crafting and survival elements, superfluous as they are, are also a lot of fun. You can hunt game for meat and skins, find berries and learn to tell the difference between the poisonous ones and the edible ones, make a bunch of improvised weapons like a fishing spear and a shitty bow and arrow set, build fires to cook food and boil water to make it safe to drink - all of these systems are well thought out and fun to engage with. Like I mentioned earlier, base building is fun and The Forest gives the experience a very down to earth feel by having you chop down trees and transport the timber by hand. You can also build a wide variety of traps and defensive structures, but that brings us to another major sticking point. The Forest wields silence and darkness like an assassin's blade, but falters completely when it comes to actually fighting things.

Combat. Do you ever wish a game didn't have it? I do. A lot. The Forest is one of those games. Fighting the mutants that inhabit the peninsula is as tedious as it is distasteful. It's mostly just a bunch of wild flailing about with an axe or other bladed instrument in the general direction of the enemy. If you're feeling frisky you can use molotovs or poison arrows or even TNT, tactics that become necessary when fighting the game's Creepy Mutants (name not mine i swear). The Creepy Mutants are large, monstrous enemies usually comprised of several individuals fused together. They're big and tough and they have soooo much fucking health god christ ass. You can skin them and use their mutated hides as armor which is pretty metal but fighting them is just not fun. Which is the same for all the other enemies honestly. You just kind of get the enemy into a stunlock and try to finish them off before another mutant puts two and two together and stops running around in circles and actually tries to hit you. Your enemies are hindered by very curious AI and stunlock vulnerability, but to even things out you have to deal with some of the same vulnerabilities, as well as certain lighter related limitations when it comes to explosives and incendiaries that really makes using them a chore.

It feels odd to say this, but The Forest doesn't need its mutants. It's better off without them, to be frank. The dangers inherent in spelunking and surviving in a cold wilderness are more than sufficient to create a sense of vulnerability. Like if you really had to you could just put more crocodiles in the game and make them more aggressive, those fuckers hurt. The story wouldn't even have to change that much - the real movers and shakers of the plot aren't mutants at all. They serve very little purpose except to be the architects of a number of grisly tableaus we've already seen in other games with aspirations of environmental storytelling. There are no toilets in The Forest but if there were, by god would they just be filled to the brim with skulls. There's a severed head in a water cooler at one point. That's in the same spirit. And, of course, there's the elephant in the room: the mutants, as a concept, are deeply racist. Facing down a horde of hooting and hollering brown and black miscreants clad in tribal body paint and loincloths while brandishing various sticks adorned with skulls at you cannot be separated from our bloody colonial past and demonization of native peoples. It's just not happening. This game is about the White Man versus the Savage, whether or not the devs meant it that way. They probably didn't, trying to offer assurances that these aren't actually natives, they're mutant hell cannibals with no dicks. But like. Nah. Not buying it. The mutants will occasionally marshal a big attack on your base or settlement, bringing a big creepy mutant or two with them to try and knock down your shit. What should be one of the game's selling points is marred both by really unfortunate historical imagery and the fact that it's really hard to actually defend anything from getting broken because none of your weapons can actually hit straight down a wall without either lighting them on fire or blowing them up. If they really needed to have an enemy faction in the game, there are five million other angles of mutant they could have gone with - lizard men, tentacle monsters, psychic fuckers, zombies, a Mitch McConnel clone race - but the fact that they went with "tribals" instead of something even moderately less racially charged says a lot.

So that's The Forest! Promising game, fun for the most part, but intrinsically flawed in some very inescapable ways. What about Subnautica? Well, I have good news: Subnautica is much better. It starts the same way, with the spaceship the player is riding on suffering a catastrophic crash landing in an inhospitable world, with most of the other crewmen missing or just dead outright. You start with a life pod fabricator and a sassy corporate issue PDA to point you in the right direction, but aside from that, your only real goal is to survive. Crafting is much more hands off in Subnautica - it's handled almost entirely by way of fabrication stations where you input raw materials and it spits out a finished product in a very scifi way. The way you progress in Subnautica is quite organic: you find a recipe in your databanks you want to build, you go searching for the materials, and in doing so you uncover more of the world. You build an enhanced air tank to stay underwater for longer so you can go deeper and farther. You build a seaglide vehicle to go faster, you build a little underwater seabase to hold your growing collection of rare materials and creature eggs, and so on and so on. Unlike The Forest, where the survival aspects can be basically ignored, learning how to maximize and streamline your food, water, and power production is quite pivotal to getting anywhere.

There are a number of ways that Subnautica arrests your progress, from hostile megafauna to severe radiation leaks to hiding important blueprint fragments behind laser cutter doors. The big one, however, is depth. Appropriate for a game about the sea, I think. At first, depth functions as a barrier of how deep you can go before running out of air - the seas are pretty deep, and after some changes from beta, you can only have so many air tanks equipped at once. Once you learn how to get around that by making some sweet submarines, depth becomes a matter of water pressure. Oxygen is no longer a problem, but crush depth certainly is - take your seamoth below 200 meters and you start to have problems real quick. This necessitates a search for ways to better withstand the pressure. Subnautica is a masterclass in making incremental progress feel rewarding. Instead of having your numbers go up slightly, you get extremely tangible benefits from the various gear upgrades you create or find in the world. The Seamoth is both extremely fast and convenient for getting around and your only practical way to bring an oxygen generator with you, and installing a depth module just increases your freedom and utility that much more. Finally putting a Cyclops together is actually just building an almost self-sufficient mobile base. Even something as mundane as learning how to make a planter represents a big boost to your food production and can expand your operational range by a great deal.

Subnautica is a game that delights in its own world. The vibrant underwater ecosystems you explore and uncover range from beautiful to the slightly terrifying, but there is a genuine love of nature - even scary nature - evident in Subnautica that's infectious. Subnautica does not really have combat, as such. You have a survival knife and a couple of space age tools like the Stasis Cannon which you can use to defend yourself in a pinch, but there is no mutant menace to contend with on 4546B. Hungry Reaper Leviathans and Crabsquids, maybe, but wild animals are wild animals. No moral judgment is cast upon the Stalker's tendency to try and take a bite out of your ass. In fact, you can learn to pacify and even play with them by bringing them fish to eat or scrap metal to sink their teeth into. There is only one entity on the planet that is actively and determinedly hostile to the player, and it's a real fucker, but there's a good reason for it.

The reason for your unexpected visit to the ocean planet is revealed to be the work of a planetary quarantine system installed by Ancient Aliens (again) a long time ago to prevent the spread of a particularly virulent and deadly variety of bacteria. You gradually find evidence of the Kharaa bacteria and the involvement of a precursor civilization as you explore: certain fauna will be covered in green pustules, the PDA will inform you of the presence of infectious agents in the water and how some biomes are curiously lacking in biodiversity, and you'll occasionally find vents and structures of an obviously alien design. A refreshing thing about Subnautica's Ancient Aliens is that they aren't depicted as magic space gods. They have advanced technology compared to that of Earth's, but ultimately they were just some dudes who got caught on the wrong side of a very nasty bacterial plague and didn't quite figure out how to cure it in time. At this point, you have two goals: get rid of the infection, and find some way to disable the giant quarantine laser gun and get off the planet. Finding a cure for the kharaa bacteria requires going deep into the depths with a heavily armored PRAWN suit designed to withstand crushing water pressure and even the most angry and enormous of predators, where you can find a number of alien facilities using the abundant geothermal energy of the planet's magma layer. Finding a way off world involves putting on a radiation suit and exploring the wreck of the Aurora to both fix the catastrophic radiation leak and to get in contact with the home office, who in between ordering ham and cheese sandwiches are gracious enough to send you the blueprints for your very own interplanetary rocket ship.

Throughout all of this, you'll get intermittent distress calls on your radio giving you the coordinates to various points of interest like other lifepods and bits of the Aurora that were unceremoniously scattered to the four winds upon impact. You can also find evidence of people who came to this planet before you and learn their story from PDA logs and the condition of the temporary shelters they left behind. I am not especially fond of the whole audio log method of storytelling, but in Subnautica it's framed less as "the entire population of earth compulsively records their thoughts on tape recorders" and more "corporate issue malware will obsessively observe and catalogue all interactions between you and your fellow employees." There is a definite undercurrent of anti-capitalist criticism in Subnautica, from the Alterra Corporation's insistence on framing interpersonal relationships as business transactions to your PDA's intermittent reminders that all of the things that you are building to survive and get off the planet with are steadily incurring a ridiculous amount of debt to your employers due to exploitative contracting. It can get a little on the nose, but more and more I am finding that even the most on the nose satire is leaps and bounds more subtle and nuanced than actual reality so I can't complain too much.

As the game goes on, a rescue attempt by the Sunbeam freighter ship goes terribly awry when the quarantine enforcement platform blows it the fuck up and your own level of infection steadily progresses. You start to receive periodic telepathic messages from a mysterious being, who claims that it wants to help you. When you finally make your way through the briny Lost River and into the dangerous Active Magma Zone, you find the alien's primary containment facility housing a remarkable organism: The Sea Emperor. The Sea Emperor is an enormous leviathan class entity, twice the size of the gigantic magma spitting Sea Dragons hanging out nearby. However, like the enormous cetaceans of Earth, the Sea Emperor is an intelligent, sapient being that feeds by filtering microorgansisms from the surrounding seawater. The story of the last remaining Sea Emperor is a sad one, contained by the precursor aliens for over a thousand years in order to study the mysterious Enzyme 42 that it produced. This enzyme was the only compound they had ever found with the ability to neutralize the Kharaa virus, but due to the Emperor's advanced age and their inability to communicate with it, they reached an impasse. The Emperor was no longer capable of producing large amounts of the enzyme, and its eggs were trapped in a sort of indefinite stasis due to the conditions of the holding tank not being optimal for their hatching. So its basically been waiting all alone for a good millenium or so for somebody to come and help hatch its eggs.

Fortunately, the survivor of the Aurora's crash is a determined and compassionate soul, and by working together with the Sea Emperor, manages to put together a vial of artificial hatching enzymes by gathering samples of flora from the outside ecosystem. The eggs hatch, giving both the Sea Emperor species and planet 4546B writ large a chance at a future. The adult Emperor dies of Being Over a Thousand Years Old shortly after. Most likely, it was only its determination to see its children grow and flourish and save the planet that kept it going this long, so once that purpose was fulfilled, it finally felt able to go to its final rest. The Emperor is a philosophical individual, with complex ideas about other minds and the potential of life after death and reincarnation, idly wondering as it dies if it might come back as an ocean current or a tiny being that fits between the grains of sand. It's an affecting sequence that taps into a lot of our hopes for maybe one day being able to truly communicate with and understand our own huge marine life. Once the young are released into the wild, you follow them and obtain a sample of Enzyme 42, which completely cures you of the Kharaa infection. All that's left after that is to disable the quarantine platform and build the neptune escape rocket.

After you complete the rocket - an impressively large construction, even bigger than the Cyclops submarine - you are prompted to create a time capsule before you take off. The time capsule includes space for a few items you can leave behind , a screenshot, and custom text note. The idea is that other players might discover it on their adventures and find what you left behind, another surprisingly emotional touch to the game. Admittedly it was slightly ruined for me because when I exited the cockpit to go and take a screenshot the entire launch platform was flung into the sky for no reason, me along with it. I did have the presence of mind to take a  blurry screenshot of the several tons of plasteel sailing through the air as if by magic. We both eventually landed and I managed to climb back up and (properly) launch the rocket. As you leave the atmosphere, the spirit of the Sea Emperor contacts you one last time to thank you once again for giving its family a future. As the credits roll and you reenter Alterra space, your PDA happily congratulates you on making it back and assures you that you will be cleared to dock just as soon as your outstanding debt of several trillion credits is settled. As the music fades and you return to the main menu, you can't help but think: man, maybe I should have stayed.

It is this sentiment, I think, that truly separates the quality of the two games as experiences and statements on the human condition. The Forest presents you with a superficially beautiful peninsula swarming with Evil Tribal Cannibals that must be overmastered in order to rescue your darling son object, that exists to be exploited and despoiled in your quest to build a Sick Fort that isn't even really necessary. You can even get an achievement called "climate change" for cutting down 100 trees and like. Fuck off. Not funny. You can legitimately deforest huge swathes of the game world if you find the chainsaw and some fuel. In the Forest, you are an invading conqueror masquerading as a victim of circumstance. In Subnautica, you are an observer and survivor. The primary building material is titanium, which you get mostly from salvage from the Aurora, occasionally supplemented with some more exotic ores and corals found naturally on the seabed. The ecosystem of 4546B, even though it is devastated by plague, is bigger than you could ever hope to be. It's beautiful and fascinating and glorious, and the attempts that your predecessors made to exploit and subjugate it ended in abject failure. Your seabases are compact and efficient affairs, equipped with machinery for survival and research. The game specifically forbids you from building most kinds of weapons, citing a historical massacre that necessitated all weapon blueprints deadlier than the survival knife to be scrubbed from the database. Combat is fruitless and difficult, even in the PRAWN suit - it's better to just evade hostile fauna and slip by undetected with silent running. The only way to survive and escape is to work in concert with the indigenous life, not thoughtlessly destroy it.

I didn't expect, going in, to feel so compelled to compare and contrast these games, but when presented with the reality of the situation and how similar they really were, I didn't have much of a choice. They're almost dark mirrors of one another, the Forest presenting a Bad Future where the nazi sound designer from Subnautica was in charge of the entire project. I enjoyed the Forest, but there is a deep moral emptiness within it that I have trouble compartmentalizing, especially when Subnautica offers an alternative outcome that doesn't make me feel vaguely monstrous for playing it. Subnautica is, at its core, a more beautiful, more engaging, more thoughtful and even more frightening work than The Forest. The Forest comes close to offering a genuinely scary experience during the cave sections, but undermines its own premise by filling the haunting void beneath the earth with giggling naked canninbal men. The dark, trackless depths of the ocean, however, remain a fundamentally terrifying environment, populated by the strange and terrible lifeforms adapted to living deep beneath the crush depth of even the hardiest submarines. The Ghost Leviathans that lurk in the endgame areas and in the tremendously unsettling open ocean beyond the crater's edge are frightening to behold and terribly dangerous, but their presence is almost comforting, a reminder that other beings still exist in the lightless void. The hooting and hollering of The Forest's mutants simply cannot compare to the otherwordly cries of Subnautica's megafauna, and indeed, The Forest is at its most tense when all is silent.

I would be awfully interested in a game that took The Forest's robust crafting, building, and survival mechanics and transplanted them somewhere far away from the wretched peninsula and its ravening caricatures, perhaps a kind of Subnautica that took place in an alien jungle, or an earth jungle, for that matter. Anywhere less relentlessly ugly and hateful would be fine. Subnautica makes good on most of its lofty promises (except when it crashes. Stability is an area where The Forest has an unquestionable advantage) and presents a strong, unified experience. The Forest is a jumble of compelling systems mashed together in an unconvincing way with set dressing straight from the production of Birth of a Nation. A missed opportunity at best, an extremely questionable exercise in tone-deaf xenophobia at worst. I would be interested to know how the developers of the game justified their design decisions as not-racist, or if they even bothered. Subnautica is reflecting and uplifting, while The Forest, in all of its cynical attempts to push boundaries and put blood and titties on the screen, ironically only ends up feeling safe and derivative, contradicting itself and wasting the genuinely strong mechanics it developed. With certain statements from E3 about how certain developers try to distance themselves as much as possible from political statements while simultaneously creating deeply political games fresh in our minds, I think we should be more insistent than ever that this kind of cowardice is both ridiculous and transparently self-serving. All culture is political, because all human experience is political, inextricably intertwined with the struggles and conflicts between nations and groups that serve as the backdrops of eras. Subnautica knows this. The Forest either does not, or does not care.

[unstableempathy-a-blog]

⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼┢ Kerian Dartmont  ┩

@kerian-james-dartmont​

Abigail Hobbs was gone from the touch of reality. She had been ripped away from him and in her place, was a vacant blank spot that should have been filled with her presence. He constantly found her in the depths of his memory palace, wandering freely through the lengthy corridors. He allowed the recollection of her to take life and burst into his own consciousness. She occasionally showed up when he was in need of someone to talk to, but in truth, she was nothing more than another one of the ghostly wisps that had made themselves at home within his mind. He had wished that he had perished within that kitchen, instead of her. Then again, it was his OWN actions that had lead to the bloodbath in Hannibal Lecter’s kitchen. The fault rested on his shoulders alone, and no one else was to blame, but himself.

After he recovered, Jack Crawford had quickly assigned Graham to another case, as if attempting to free him from the grasp of guilt that gripped him so tightly. It was as if he was proposing an alternative to Will’s pounding need to find the man who had injured him. Grudgingly, the empath had accepted the case. He wasn’t afraid of the effect this case could have on his mental state. He was already traumatized as it was.

The details in the files had been vague, but thanks to a single visit at the most recent crime scene, Will was able to snatch a loose thread on the killer’s identity and possible affiliations. He easily slipped into the shoes of the killer and made the stranger’s mind his own. Upon resurfacing back to reality once again, he could still feel the slippery substance of blood against his fingertips as if he had been the one to commit such an act. He had seen enough scarlet stains in his life, but the haunting afterimages of his profilings still echoed within the bone-area of his skull.

He wasn’t much for the idea of covens and never appreciated the concept of a group. However, these killings that were done by organizations were rare, and there was a certain pattern that Will could link using the color of the victims’ skin. They were all white, with the slightest hint of tan that blended flawlessly into the palette. They had either blue or green eyes and soft features. The location of the bodies were scattered around wooded areas, mostly near streams, which might entail that the killer lived in the forest. But for how long? How long would this window of opportunity stay open for? Will did not know, but the objective was still clear. He needed to put an end to this spree.

It was an extraordinary phenomenon that the appearance of a plentiful layer of snow could almost seem like an impenetrable blanket upon the ground. The cruel grasp of winter surely knew no bounds, and a good percentage of the vegetation lost their leaves, bearing themselves for the assault of months of gelid. But for those who were familiar with how low the temperatures dropped, the chill wasn’t a problem. The east coast was accustomed to such winters, but to Will Graham, there was something that made this particular period feel colder than usual. There was an everlasting chill that had adhered to the very flesh of his body.  

The motel room would be his home for the next two weeks as he worked with the Denver Police Department to find the committer. Truthfully, Colorado was very far from his real home...and he missed the company of his dogs. Entering the room after swiping his keycard, his nerves suddenly spiked. The small hairs on the back of his neck rose in anticipation and an unsettling feeling steadied itself within the pit of his stomach. Something was WRONG. Slowly, he withdrew his gun from its holster and quieted his shoe falls as he stalked towards one of the backrooms. He wasn’t alone.