#WHO IS OUT HERE MAKING T REX GIRAFFES

[missingphi]

WHAT THE FUCK

[mrultra100]

Let’s finish this!

Here we are folks. The last Prehistoric Planet episode as of May 2023. The current end of the line for the time being, and an episode not like any before. I mean, given how there were quite a few episode ideas to use from Planet Earth, an episode on Plains would’ve made more sense. I’m not against the idea of a PHP episode based around an entire continent, but North America being here… feels odd. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a good time to behold, but it’s got so many fans scratching their heads. While I stand on the whole opinion that something like “Plains” would've fit better, it sort of makes sense. Given that most of the biomes used in Planet Earth and its sequel have been used for the previous 9 episodes, there aren’t that many compatible habitats left for PHP to use. Mountains and jungles aren;t really good places for preserving fossils like the other habitats, not alot is known about caves from the end of the Cretaceous, and it should be obvious that cities aren’t an opinion here. So it makes sense that the series is starting to go with other themes for its episodes at this point.

With all of that said, the question remains? What did I think about this last episode? Does it do a good job to close out the season? Stick around and find out, as we cap off the second tour of Maastrichtian Earth with NORTH AMERICA.

Think of the seagulls that normally pester you for fries… and then scale them up to the size of a giraffe. That’s basically what this poor guy has to go through.

The opening scene starts with a herd of Alamosaurus, which were not only the largest animals on the entire continent, but also the only species of titanosaurs there as well. As the herd plods down the beach, the focus is on a 70-year old male, straggling behind a bit. As the others carry on, the old male slowly lays down on the beach, with his rather long life coming to a peaceful end…

…As you can tell, what happened next, along with the resulting reaction from the fandom was anything but peaceful. The next day, the dead Alamosaurus attracts predators from all walks from life. From a trio of troodontids struggling to pierce through the sauropod’s thick skin, to a T. Rex who spooks the former off and easily gorges into the free meal, right to a pair of Quetzalcoatlus, who then harass and force the poor T. Rex into leaving, after pecking and honking at the guy. Alot of people got a bit uppity about this scene, as they felt that something like this wouldn’t be natural. However, looking at the mannerisms of both parties helps get a better understanding of what happens here. The first Quetzalcoaltus was hesitant on grabbing a bite from the caress while the T. Rex was present. It’s only with the second Quetz that things start to shift in their favor. Using their lighter frames, the two azhdarchids go on the offense, mobbing and harassing the T. Rex, while pecking and honking right on the theropod. That’s something that I frankly love about the PHP Quetz; Alongside their accurate mannerisms and appearance, the species gets a deep, booming HONK. Think of this entire kerfuffle like someone getting harassed by seagulls for some fries… with the main difference being that these gulls are the size of giraffes, and can easily swallow you whole if they fancy you as a snack

Calamari, only with the shell

Diving back into the sea for our second segment, the focus is centered on the first-ever appearance of Globidens in media. Unlike the other mosasaurs in this series, Globidens, with its name literally meaning “Globe teeth”, had rounder and blunter teeth, which was a very good tool in hunting hard-shelled prey, including the other animal of the scene; Sphenodiscus. They were a species of ammonites that were very common during this time. I even have an entire fossil of one of these creatures!

Got this lil’ beauty from a fossil shop almost five years ago

As for while the Sphenodiscus are getting themselves in the hungry eyes of the Globidens? Well, while you have eggs to place in the shallows, you gotta get in the way of predators to lay down the groundwork for the next generation. An interesting note to bring up is how the Globidens doesn’t initially eat each Sphenodiscus he catches after biting through their shells, causing them to sink to the seafloor. The goal here is to have himself a good amount of easy food to snack on in peace, even with how they only represent a tiny amount of the entire school. It helps to show how mosasaurs can be pretty clever animals, similar to how modern-day monitor lizards are very intelligent for reptiles.

Seriously, how did they not add in the fact that birds ARE dinosaurs in a scene with a non-avian dinosaur AND birds?

Going back on dry land, the episode then cuts to a large lake, cut off from nearby rivers. Due to this isolation, along with the water getting toxic due to dissolving minerals, living here can be a bit risky, unless you’re either a brine fly, or a “Styginetta”, which was an informed relative of ducks. The other major animals of the segment are a family of Pectinidon. On the hunt for some food, the chicks playfully run around for flies, with some running face-first into a whole bunch of them in a very similar manner to the Cryptile from The Future is Wild. Their father, however, has a much meatier prize in mind. The male then runs after the flock of “Styginetta” catching one of the birds in mid-air. The scene itself was good in its own right, but the only issue that I have is how it doesn’t bring up how birds are dinosaurs. Maybe they’re saving it for a later episode? I dunno.

Mess with the bull, and you get the horns

We then cut to a large forest, where groups of Triceratops gather for their mating rituals. The rules here are simple; If you’ve got very large horns, the chances of getting laid are easier. And one of the males involved got’s some pretty impressive horns, a bit longer than most of the others. However, there are two issues that he has to face.

The females notice that the horns lack any wear or tear, which means that male lack any experience.

There’s literally an older male here who has horns EVEN BIGGER THAN THAT.

As many folks have pointed out ever since the trailer for Season 2 came out, the older male and his horns are based on Yoshi’s Trike, which is a specimen of Triceratops with horn cores that are nearly 4 feet long, which makes them the longest horns out of any Triceratops fossils found. And going back to the “horn core” thing, many scientists now speculate that, just like many animals alive today, dinosaurs must’ve had sheets of keratin covering over things like horns and claws. And if we’re going with that idea, it’s safe to assume that the horns of Yoshi’s Trike, as impressive as they are now, must’ve been even bigger when the animal itself was alive. And this goes for the older male, as his massive horns are a good way to see how he’s more of an experienced fighter than his younger rival, even having part of his frill gone by what I assume to be a T. Rex attack.

As you can probably imagine by this point, the first male loses, having a piece of one of his own horns be snapped off by the fight. However, this is a blessing in disguise, as the newly-gained battle scar means he’ll have a better chance of getting a mate next time.

A loving mother, and her family of walking fluffballs

The last segment of not just the whole episode, but the season in general, starts with the northern wilderness. For a female Nanuqsaurus, it’s not the cold that’s the hardest part, but it’s the lack of good hiding places to spring an ambush on a flock of unsuspecting Ornithomimus that makes things a kick to the face. While this isn’t like plenty of other hunting scenes in this show, it works as a reminder that most hunts throughout the history of life fail more often. If you were a 23-feet long predator with jaws powerful enough to crunch through bone, a good hiding spot is gonna be needed to catch some dinner. Our female, having to try again after her first attempt fails, uses some rocky outcrops to catch the Ornithomimus by surprise, eventually singling a lone member of the flock. One slip of ice later, and it’s all over for the ostrich mimic.

While a meal like this is a godsend for the Nanuqsaurus, she’s also got a bunch of adorable chicks to feed. While this was a bit of a weird way to end the season, it was still a good scene.

When you have a shield for a face, getting attention is gonna be alot easier than you’d think

And we’re at the last Uncovered segment of the reviews. Obviously, I don’t have alot to say about this one, but it’s nice that the Uncovered segments were added in at the end of each episode this time. I’m not sure if I’ve said this previously, but adding in behind-the-scenes segments at the end is common for the BBC’s Natural History Unit when it comes to their shows, it works here.

And with that… we’re done! We’re finally finished with Prehistoric Planet season 2! While it took me months to get to each episode, I had alot of fun with these reviews. As weird as the idea of this show getting a season 2 just a year after the first may seem weird, but you gotta remember; This entire project started back in 2019, and even before that, it’s been stated that the idea of the series itself came up more than a decade ago. While it could hypothetically take a few months into the new year to see if we’ll ever get Season 3, but if that happens, that whole “Maasrichtian trilogy” idea that I’ve been spouting off may actually come to pass! Only time will tell.

And as always, thanks to everyone who’s liked and read these silly ramblings of mine. Things like my other projects, life stuff getting in the way, and other such things have gotten in the way, but after more than 5 months, I’m happy to say that this safari tour is over. As for what I have planned next? I’m hoping to get a few more art pieces done before the year ends, and I have a few ideas for more articles in the same time frame. Obviously, my ideas for what PHP season 3 could be like are still in the works, as I’m hoping to have it released before the end of this month (As of me writing this). I also got some other ideas for consideration, like what I wanna see in my own dream idea for a Pokemon game, some more possible ideas for my Johnny Test reboot idea, and maybe even a sort of mini-retrospective on the much-mangled Walking with Dinosaurs movie from 2013, just in time for its 10th anniversary this December!

…Yeah, that film came out 10 years ago… God, I feel old.

ANYHOO! Thanks for reading, stay tuned for what I’ve got planned next, and keep on celebrating the legacy of our Prehistoric Planet

(Also, Happy Thanksgiving! Just don't let a T. Rex catch you when you're cooking that turkey, lest you end up as the turkey dinner)

[ketamineharry]

Hush Little Baby ~ Harry Lewis  Requested: Yes ~ Hello, idk if you’re doing requests rn but your writing is honestly amazing!! Could you do a Harry imagine where he and reader have been together forever and reader gets accidentally pregnant and it’s just baso the journey if ygm? Like telling him, his friends family fans and then baby being born kinda like a time line typa thing ? If not dw I love you so much !!!! And ~ Please could you write a Harry imagine where he has a daughter Tags: Fluff Word Count: 1.5k

It had been a full hour. A full hour of babysitting Rex Minter, Simon and Talia’s first-born child. They had wanted a date night and it was Harry’s turn to look after the little one. Yet, the whole time you had felt a sickness in the pits of your stomach, you were absolutely sure it would fade when you had eaten something. Here you were, a full large domino's pizza down, and the sickness had not faded. Going against your better judgement, you left Harry with the toddler and made your way to the bathroom.

You were acutely aware of the fact that Simon and Talia were planning on having another little one, so you knew that they would be well stocked on at home pregnancy kits. You carefully took one out of the glass bathroom cabinet, and walked over to the toilet. Deep down, you were hoping that you were wrong. That you were not pregnant. You knew for a fact that you were not ready for a baby and if you were completely honest, you knew that Harry wasn’t either. He was a brilliant uncle and loved having the boys’ children around, babysitting for them so they could have date nights, but he was always able to give them back at the end of a long night. You weren’t so sure how he would feel about not being able to do that. Not having the freedom to do what he wanted anymore, because he had to put this tiny life first. It just didn’t seem like the Harry you knew and loved.

The alarm of your phone pulled you out of the deep thought that you had found yourself in. In no world did you think that having a quiet night in babysitting for some friends would lead you into something so life changing. You carefully picked up the little stick from in front of you, taking a deep inhale of breath. Two lines. Positive. Fuck. As you cleared away the rubbish of the box, you slipped the pregnancy test into your pocket.

As you made your way back to Harry and Rex, all you could hear were joyous screams. Harry really was the fun uncle he had promised to be in a Sidemen Reacts video, many moons ago.

“Y/N!” Rex beamed as he ran up to you. “Uncle Harry was saying that I could have a chocolate for pudding. Usually mummy and daddy say no, and I have to have yogurt or a piece of fruit.”

“Oh that’s great buddy!” You reply, trying to force enthusiasm through the nerves and worry. Although you had no confidence in the fact that you were very successful in that. Harry sent you a glance that confirmed your thoughts. He hadn’t bought it for a second.

As you took Rex’s tiny hand in yours, and made your way to the kitchen, you slipped the pregnancy test to Harry, hoping beyond hope that his reaction was a good one. ‘We need to talk later’ he mouthed, increasing your anxiety tenfold.

-

The ‘talk’ Harry had referenced that night, didn’t amount to the negative that you had convinced yourself it would. You had agreed to keep the baby. Surprisingly, Harry was all for keeping the little one. He hadn’t expressed to you how much he had wanted a child, because he didn’t want to pressure you into anything. The fact that it had happened was such an unexpected surprise. A good surprise though!

You had been to a few scans together, watching your belly swell and get bigger as the months progressed. When it came to finding out the gender though, you chose not to find out. So, you had taken to calling the baby ‘Peanut’. Telling the other boys was an experience to say the very least. These were the men that had watched Harry grow up, from a reserved teenager to the extroverted man he had become. You had both agreed on telling them all at the same time.

The plan had been to get the children that had already been born into mini Sidemen FC t-shirts, starting with the oldest and ending with the youngest, your bump. Which would be painted black, with the number five as your little one would be the fifth addition to the Sidemen extended family. As it stood, the line was as follows: Ethan’s twins Oscar and Olivia who he shared with his wife Kayleigh, JJ’s son Morphius who he shared with his fiance Bella and little Rex. Nervously you went and stood next to Rex. Thankfully, with baggy clothes you had managed to hide the fact that you were pregnant. You took a hold of Rex’s hand, more for your own comfort than anything else. As if the reactions of your friends were wrapped up in the little hand of a toddler.

Slowly, you lifted your jumper up to reveal the paint that was on your stomach. Showing the number five that was painted on top of it. Suddenly, there was an eruption of cheers. The girls became overly emotional, which was expected. They had just found out that one of their best friends was carrying a new member of their extended family. The boys crowded around Harry, patting him on the shoulder and taking him in for hugs. The love being experienced in the room was tangible and you just knew that no matter what happened, your child would be growing up in such a loving environment.

Telling each of your respective families had been a totally different kettle of fish, however. This is where most of the nerves were mounting from for you. Your parents had become parents at a very young age, and had made a lot of mistakes, you were terrified of having history repeated. Having a baby in your early 20s, wasn’t the plan. You felt like you needed to learn more about yourself first, and one of your deepest fears was to have this confirmed by your own parents. Instead, the reaction that you received was nothing but positive. Your dad had warned Harry that he couldn’t drink as much beer, whilst your mum had warned you about the severe lack of sleep you were about to get. Overall though, they were beyond excited to have their family expanding. Harry’s parents had cried when you revealed the news to them. His sister, Rosie had got Peanut a little stuffed giraffe which she aptly named Gina.

-

Setting up the nursery was probably the most enjoyable part of the ordeal. Partly because you loved unleashing your creative side; and partly because decorating the nursery came at the latest point of your pregnancy. You had opted for a pale yellow paint for three of the walls, opting for a feature wall which was decorated in a safari print wallpaper.

You were helping Harry with the final touches of the room, you placed Gina giraffe in the corner of the cot, next to the pillow so that your baby always had comfort. Thinking about it, you were sure that you had a ragdoll from when you were a baby at your parents house. It’s funny how it’s the little things that you remember in the biggest moments.

As you turned around to admire your handy work, you felt an immense pressure, causing you to grip onto the cot and double over. You had never experienced anything like this before and you were pretty sure you knew what it was. Your baby was arriving and it was arriving fast.

“Harry,” You screamed, trying your best to stay calm as you knew this was a pivotal moment for the both of you. He was definitely as nervous as you, as he didn’t understand the mood changes, or the pain that you felt. Despite having attended every pregnancy class and read upteen pregnancy books. He had put a lot of opportunities that had presented themself to him on hold for the sake of you and your child as he wanted to be as supportive as possible. Which a meer nine months ago, you would have never imagined Harry doing.

You heard pounding up the stairs, Harry’s usual cheery disposition changing as soon as he saw the immense panic that had taken over your face. “I’ll grab the pregnancy bag, make your way to the car, it's already unlocked.” He informed me, as he grabbed the pregnancy bag from the other side of the room, helping me down the stairs as it had become near impossible to do the simplest of tasks, now that I was carrying our baby.

---

Labour was without a doubt the most painful thing you had ever experienced. It was a quick birth, having arrived at the hospital at seven, and giving birth to your daughter at exactly fifteen minutes past seven. Harry had fallen asleep in the chair in the corner of your room.

Your daughter, however, was screaming blue murder. Despite this, Harry still wouldn’t wake. So, with all your might, you scooped your little one into your arms. “Hush little baby, don’t you cry. We swear that we’ll never leave your side and if we do, remember this love like ours never dies.” You whisper, rocking her into a soft slumber as you placed a soft kiss to the top of her head. Your little family was already complete.

[childish-omens]

where: A natural history museum 

who: Otto and Poppy ( @poppypotted )

Otto squinted and leaned closer to the display, trying to read the little sign. 

“Quetza... what?” he shook his head, “Pops, they’ve got to be making this shit up at this point.” 

He tilted his head as he examined the pile of bones they were looking at. It was...interesting, he’d give it that.

“Kinda looks like they stuck a beak on a giraffe,” he observed. “Can we go see the t-rexes now?” 

The museum was quiet. There were a few Muggles milling about, but it seemed to be an off day for tourism. He’d brought Poppy here - not as a date, obviously, she knew he was gay - but as more of a...friend outing? 

She’d mentioned her love for dinosaurs once, so when he’d found out about the big display at the museum he’d decided to take her. It felt like the sort of thing friends did.

A kid nearby was staring at them, wide-eyed. Probably because Otto had a wand sticking out of his back pocket. Otto stared right back, blank-faced and unfazed.

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 9

The Slaying of the Bobbledragon

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Since slaying a serial-killer dragon is a little outside the party's expertise, they're off to Cauterdale to enlist the aid of the Deathseekers' Guild! Having gotten a good night's sleep at a druid village, and not eaten, they're ready to take on, uh...

Well, some sort of very large monster that Zero kindly drew for me.

In the morning, they rather uneventfully get up and get back on the road, thanking the villagers for their hospitality. And the remainder of the trip to Cauterdale is likewise brief and uneventful, right up until the fire.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: the what Benedict I. (GM): The fire.

Yeah, the forest and the road up ahead are ablaze, sort of blocking passage. The dirt road isn't actively on fire, but the trees on both sides are, making it pretty risky to proceed. The team opts to send Oyobi up ahead to scout the situation- and pretty soon she comes back with a report. Apparently, just past the visible fireline, the forest is totally burned down- just charred stumps as far as she could see, right up to the city walls. The fire itself is just, like, 10 meters wide or so, so it's totally something they could just dash through.

It takes some Animal Handling checks to coax the giraffes through, and the ones that balk get them and their riders a little bit of chip damage from heat and smoke inhalation, but the party is pretty much able to push through to the blasted wasteland of charred tree stumps surrounding Cauterdale.

They notice a few people in strange armor in the distance, doing something near the fire- from the seemingly controlled nature of this burn and the name of the town, they conclude that those are fire squads doing this deliberately, and don't get involved. It's a fine conclusion, and the party begins walking the remaining mile to the city.

As they approach, they notice... a little ways off from the main gates, something is attacking the city walls. Guards atop the walls are manning some sort of huge harpoon guns, and they seem to have already slain several of the... whatever these things are. The remaining one, though, seems larger and more resilient than the others, continuing its assault despite the several harpoons already lodged in its flesh.

What they see is a huge reptilian monster. It's probably not a dragon- no wings, and it doesn't appear to be using a breath weapon- but it's the size of a dragon, with tiny arms, headbutting the metal walls of the town repeatedly.

Orluthe makes his Nature roll to recognize this thing- he's heard of them before. They're called "bobbledragons"- some sort of deformed mutant offshoot of true dragons, incapable of speech or flight or magic but still possessed of monstrous strength and durability.

Luckily, the bobbledragon doesn't seem to be in between them and the main gate- the fight is far enough away that they could potentially just walk up and head into town, assuming they'll open the gates during a situation like this. Hell, they don't even need to open the gates- if the guards just drop a rope, they should be able to just climb over. That seems like a decent plan, so Saelhen and Looseleaf begin working together to draft a use of the Message spell to ask the guards to help them inside.

Then they notice that I've been moving Oyobi's token on the map in the direction of the fight.

Oyobi, blinded by bloodlust and/or extra-credit-in-Severe-Zoology-lust, is determined to help fell the bobbledragon. Their attempts at persuasion fail, and Oyobi, undeterred, continues to charge the giant fucking T-rex that is making huge dents in the walls of a city.

As Oyobi runs for it, and as the party follows behind in hopes of stopping her from making a terrible mistake, the bobbledragon jumps and seizes one of the guards on the wall in its jaws, demonstrating its +10 4d12+7 bite attack by immediately oneshotting its victim.

Looseleaf: oh god we're all going to die. you're using the real t-rex statblock. that thing is challenge eight. it is made for a party of four level eight adventurers, so either we are all going to die here, or the guards are going to show us why they are professional fighters and we are students. Benedict I. (GM): "Shit! It can jump!" "No!" The guards seem upset.

Not promising.

Looseleaf: This thing does sufficient damage to oneshot any of us with a perfectly mediocre hit. Looseleaf right now is kind of thoroughly convinced that Oyobi is actually literally about to die. In that light, Looseleaf is going to message Oyobi again. And she is not going to get any closer. Actually, she's going to back off, put distance between herself and the monster. [Oyobi that thing is going to bite you in half get back here you are going to die.] Benedict I. (GM): Roll Persuasion! DC 20 again. -Looseleaf: 17 / PERSUASION (1)- Oyobi Yamatake: [I'M GONNA LIVE FOREVER!!!]

So... that's a bust, and Oyobi finally reaches the dragon and begins her assault. Miraculously, her flying leap hits, and she digs her sword in... for thirteen damage.

The guards return fire against the bobbledragon, and one of the harpoons catches it in the chest- but it doesn't go down, and the second harpoon- manned by just one guard, after his partner got crunched- misses. Another guard, without a cannon, throws a spear- and gets not only a critical hit, but a max damage critical hit, spearing the thing right in the eye.

...for eleven damage, because these are ordinary CR 1/8 Guards, but still!

Saelhen tries to distract the bobbledragon so Oyobi can run and hide, but... her arrow goes wide, and Oyobi isn't interested in running and hiding anyway. The bobbledragon, targeting whatever did the most damage to it recently with its bite attack, jumps and bites the whole damn harpoon gun out of the guard tower, leaving the guards without heavy weaponry.

And then with its tail, it tries to slap the insect that just stung it in the rear.

...and rolls a 3, meaning Oyobi gracefully backflips over the attack and strikes a dramatic pose.

Looseleaf: God, she did not deserve that dodge. She got so fucking lucky there. Saelhen du Fishercrown: she really didn't Oyobi Yamatake: "When you get to Dragon Hell, tell them Oyobi Yamatake sent you!!"

Looseleaf, in the interest of communicating to Oyobi how much danger she's in, makes use of an upgrade to her Rend Spirit attack she learned while studying Lumiere's notes on pain. With Painread, she can get some feedback back from something whose spirit she disrupts, and figure out exactly how bad a shape it's in. She does so (dealing a cool 16 damage as she does), and learns how huge this thing's remaining hit point pool is, so she can tell Oyobi how unlikely she is to survive long enough to take it down.

...It, uh, it was already pretty hurt when they arrived, and it, um, has nine hit points left. And it's Oyobi's turn.

Oyobi Yamatake: Oyobi dashes forwards, Naruto-runs up to the T-rex's throat, and does a spinning leap that slashes open its jugular. It roars, and the roar swiftly fades off as its breath escapes. Saelhen du Fishercrown: God dammit, Oyobi. Oyobi Yamatake: "YES! YES! B-S-U! B-S-U! B-S-U!" "THAT is how it's DONE!" She is jumping up and down, doing a celebratory dance, the works. "Flawlessed the boss! Hell yeah!"

Yeah, so... I had kind of been planning on her getting oneshot and laid up in the hospital, as a sort of character growth thing and also keeping her out of the way of certain events in town, but, uh... the dice... didn't exactly... share my priorities.

With the bobbledragon slain, and Oyobi doing an extremely obnoxious victory dance, the rest of the party springs into action to stabilize the guard who was used as a chew toy. Thanks to his plate armor, he hasn't lost much blood, but he's got more broken bones than not, and his prognosis wouldn't be good... if it weren't for the healer's kits Looseleaf had the foresight to buy for everyone. Saelhen stabilizes him, and Orluthe calls on his goddess to Lay On Hands to save the guard's life.

Then there's this guy- the captain of the guard, who fought in the battle with a fancy crossbow that shot flaming bolts. He demands to know who the party is, seeming kind of annoyed that they rewarded weakness by saving the guard's life.

Benedict I. (GM): He looks down at your medical kit. "Y'know, all of my men are prepared to fight and die for our home. You really want to take away this man's glory?" The injured guard looks up. "Uh, sir, I- it's fine, actually..." "Feh." Looseleaf: This guy immediately seems like a bad boss. Saelhen du Fishercrown: Oh, he's ridiculous. Okay, that changes the tenor of this conversation somewhat! "...I apologize, sir," says Saelhen, bowing to the guard on his stretcher, "if I have diminished your victory with my carelessness."

And rather than give this guy any more of the time of day, Saelhen asks the random guard his name. (And then I have to give him one and make him a character, whoops.)

Medd Cutter here is thankful for Saelhen's assistance saving his life, and Saelhen pledges to remember his heroism. The commander feels- by design- somewhat left out of the heroism-remembering, and declares that he is REX SCAR, and Saelhen kind of blows him off. He's not happy, but...

Captain Scar is still the sort of person who is very impressed with anyone who rolls up and kills a bobbledragon just because they felt like it, and despite Saelhen's calculated snub, tries to get buddy-buddy with the group of obviously very powerful people who just arrived. He decides to help them through customs without going through the usual processes, much to the chagrin of...

...Long-Tongue, Cauterdale Customs and Border Inspection Officer of Cauterdale, who's very loquacious and wordy and redundantly repeats what she says in different words to phrase things differently in a somewhat unnecessary fashion for no real reason. Rex bullies his way past her, but Saelhen- as another snub, and just to be... nice? (What's her game...?), hands her the 300-page history of the de la Surplus family as collateral for a deferred border inspection.

Inside the walls, Cauterdale is a very crowded place. It's like 80% slum, choked with buildings constructed of a patchwork of scrap metal and discarded siding, without much wood to speak of. The streets are narrow and bustling, and the general vibe around the place is impatient.

The remaining guards escorting them (Rex went off someplace) inform them, when questioned, that the town indeed burns down the forest around them- since they're near the jungle, horrible dangerous things tend to come out of the trees to attack them, and their harpoon defenses are most effective when they can see their attackers coming from a mile away, with no obstructions. Looseleaf asks if bobbledragon attacks are common.

Benedict I. (GM): Another guard shakes his head. "No, that one was pretty crazy. Usually it's just the giant spiders, or the giant mosquitoes, or the mushroom demons." "We've had a few bobbledragons before, but that was like, four at once." Looseleaf: "Oh gods there's already giant spiders?!" "We're not even at- I thought this was a pine forest still!" Benedict I. (GM): "No, that's usually after it rains," Medd says. Looseleaf: Looseleaf casts Druidcraft. Please tell me it's not going to rain. Benedict I. (GM): Nope! Clear skies for now. "Whoa, cool." Looseleaf:"Thank the gods of sea and sky and weather and everything even tangentially related to weather," she says. "No rain." "I hope it never rains, ever again." Benedict I. (GM): "Haha, better stay away from..." "Wait, where are you headed?" Saelhen du Fishercrown: "The rainforest," adds Saelhen, mildly. Looseleaf: "Ttttthunderbrush, and yes I know that place is crawling with spiders NOERU SHUT UP,"

Then Looseleaf asks about what they're there for- the Deathseekers' Guild. Unfortunately, the guards tell them that the Deathseekers... probably still exist, but they're like, a weird secret club of old people who think they're too cool to join the guard. They give them a couple leads- apparently the Temple of Andra keeps tabs on them, and also a guard by the name of Mags was the last to see them as they were recently seen leaving the city.

The team splits up- Looseleaf and Orluthe head for the temple, and Oyobi and Saelhen head for the guardhouse to talk to Mags. (Vayen... is still gone, after vanishing as soon as the bobbledragon fight started.) The latter group does their thing next session, so...

After dropping off their rental giraffes, they head inside to meet...

This guy, working the reception desk. He seems to be made of rock, and when he talks he rumbles.

As Looseleaf explains their dilemma and their need for Deathseekers, this guy takes a keen interest in their plight. He's very "hmmmm, iiiiiinteresting, oh i see, you don't say?" about the whole thing, making a very normal interaction seem as ominous as possible.

He tells her that the Deathseekers, to his knowledge, should be back in the city from their unspecified errand inside two days, and offers to take a message.

Looseleaf: "I don't suppose they're looking for a green dragon, are they?" Benedict I. (GM): This guy's smile keeps getting wider. It's kind of creepy. "Hm? What makes you say that?"

As she explains about the dragon, he offers her and Orluthe a candy from a bowl on the desk. After some hemming and hawing out-of-character because the creepy rock man is offering you suspicious candy, they eventually opt to have some, because really, Looseleaf isn't suspicious of this guy. Hers is lemon-flavored. It's tasty.

Then, as she describes the empty tower with the corpse of the torture wizard in it, this guy's demeanor changes suddenly from "creepy wry amusement" to "genuine concern". He tries to put on a poker face, but him having a poker face when he's until now been all creepy-friendly chewing the scenery... stands out. He gives her a strong assurance that the Deathseekers will handle this problem for her.

Benedict I. (GM): "I... thank you, for this information." Looseleaf: "You're welcome. Please, uh, make sure that the Deathseekers get this information as quickly as possible. The dragon eats a corpse a week and there's only three corpses left in the tower, there's a very real deadline on this." Benedict I. (GM): [rolling 1d20+4] (Insight) 17+4 = 21 Looseleaf: Belatedly, Looseleaf realizes she's made a mistake. Benedict I. (GM): "You say... the dragon eats three corpses a week?" "Only three corpses left in the tower?" Looseleaf: Namely: Looseleaf has no good reason to know the fact that the dragon eats a corpse a week. Since she's never met the dragon. Benedict I. (GM): "Curious information." "How did you come across it?" Looseleaf: "Uh, erm, uh." Shit.

Looseleaf opts to tell the truth about Arnie, to avoid spinning a dangerous web of lies for herself- after all, Arnie's not worth lying for. She does describe him in as sympathetic terms as she can, though, and asks this guy not to harm him if possible- she doesn't want to break her word to Arnie if she can help it.

Benedict I. (GM): He takes a moment to process this. "...Very well." "My people will be the soul of discretion." "I thank you very much for your generous contribution to the Ecumene of Understanding."

Looseleaf notices that something is wrong.

This guy is the receptionist. He's not a bishop or anything. He's not even wearing priestly vestments- just a nice suit. And he's speaking as though he's in a position of power- "my people", he says.

And after considering various possibilities, she tries something. A shot in the dark, but...

And the way Looseleaf plays this, is... "quit acting like you don't know what I'm talking about, c'mon, the jig is up". She takes out the letter she found in Lumiere's tower and shows it off, as proof!

And this guy keeps denying it, and getting increasingly more panicked, and looking nervously over at Orluthe, and asking her to please stop, shh shh shh shh, and it's when he begs her to have a conversation with him in private please that she makes the connection. If this guy is affiliated with Lumiere, who's apparently affiliated with some sort of secret conspiracy that's affiliated with some sort of deific usurpation... he maybe doesn't want to have that conversation in front of a cleric.

Looseleaf:"Okay, Orluthe, uhm. Sorry, so," Looseleaf whispers into Orluthe's ear. "Long story short, turns out my sister, who left my village way before I did, ended up falling into some kind of magical secret society. The kind of secret society with Hal Lumiere, i.e. 'the torture wizard who came up with all those pain knives that we all got stabbed a lot with', was apparently a very active member of." Benedict I. (GM):Oh my god, um. Looseleaf: "So, uh, I'm kinda freaking out about that, right now, but if my hunches are right then I'm the sister of someone important in their organization?" Benedict I. (GM): As you start whispering, he tries to interrupt. "Please do not say things to him!" "Please let us speak in private!!" Looseleaf: Oh he's freaked out now huh. "Anyways that's why I am actually indeed going to speak, with this guy, in private," Looseleaf finishes. "And if I don't show up in a half-hour or so, then things have probably gone lopsided." "In which case you should find everyone else and tell them to, I dunno, come save me or whatever." "You got all that?" Benedict I. (GM): The rock man looks distraught. Orluthe Chokorov: "I, uh... think so? This is really... I'm not sure it's safe..."

With a good Persuasion roll, Orluthe agrees to stay behind, and the rock man leads Looseleaf into a backroom whose doors and walls seem warded heavily with some sort of abjuration magic. A secret saferoom.

The man describes the problem: the gods don't know that they exist, or didn't until Looseleaf went and told a cleric of Diamode that they existed. Clerics, in this setting, channel divinity literally- their gods come into their heads to do magic for them, meaning anything a cleric knows is something a god can know, if they care to check.

Benedict I. (GM): "Because if the next time Diamode is in that kid, if she goes looking for that memory..." "I mean, she might not. And you didn't mention anything about our aims, so she might consider it beneath her notice." "But that, right there? That was nearly game over." "And I can't just kill you, because if I did, Yomi would end me." Looseleaf: "Yeah, I'm not incredibly foolish, I haven't actually shown anybody else Yomi's letter." "Nobody knows that Lumiere was involved with... deicidal blasphemy." "That's what this is about, right? Thereabouts, in terms of sheer magnitude and hubris?" Benedict I. (GM): He sighs. "It's not like that." "At least, it's not all like that." "The Project is... fractious." "The less you know about the project, the less you're able to carelessly blurt out about the project your cleric friends, or to anyone who tries reading your mind or tricks you into a Zone of Truth..." "The safer we all are." "With as much as you know, you're already dangerous. It'd be best for us- and you- if you dropped this. Never spoke of it to anyone."

Looseleaf points out that it's good that she found the letter, because that tower was sitting abandoned for a year- anyone could've walked in and read it, since it was lying on a bookcase in the open.

This is somehow not taken as good news- when he finds out that the letter could've potentially been read by anyone, that there was a security breach for a year...

Looseleaf: "Look, my man, next time you want to send a letter, by the way, use... use some encoding." "Don't just write things in plaintext like a chump, by the gods." Benedict I. (GM): "He was supposed to burn after reading." Saelhen du Fishercrown: he's too dead for that! Benedict I. (GM): "Wait, you said it was... out in the open?" "But he's dead?" "Either he was an idiot, or... someone else opened his mail." "Except... Yomi should've hand-delivered it, so..." "...well. We'll definitely look into it."

He brings up sending for someone to do memory magic to handle the breach- but he realizes he can't have that done to Looseleaf, because Diamode would notice if someone tampered with her cleric's memories, and someone needs to still know what's up so they can keep Orluthe away from the truth. (Plus, she figures she'd notice the inconsistencies and end up sleuthing it out again.)

Looseleaf asks if Yomi is doing well, and gets... that she's intense, and powerful, and she probably thinks she's "doing well", but... he doesn't know about happy.

Lastly, he shows Looseleaf a symbol- a blank circle, with the elvish character 人 drawn underneath. The symbols of gods are typically circles with a design inside- so the meaning of this and its relationship to the nature of the Project is fairly easy to infer.

Benedict I. (GM): "If you need to prove to someone you're in the know, without blurting out a bunch of dangerous details, this is the mark." He then eats the paper and the graphite stick he used to draw it.

Next time: Saelhen and Oyobi grill the guard Mags for information on the Deathseekers, and connections are made with powerful individuals.

[purralyth]

How have things been going with Chariot and crew? Maybe I missed some things, but it feels like it's been awhile since I last heard of their shenanigans! Has the gf been helping out? Any crisises? (In the world around them or emotional?) What is the DEALIO I am ready to hear it!

haHAHAHA i’ll be honest i don’t talk much about their emotional/world crises because they are happening All the time. our dm wants to see us suffer. but let’s have a small summary shall we, i’m actually going to put this one under a read more bc we’ve done That Much

so first things first, the gang got shunted into the feywild, i talked about that much. that’s where we picked up our lovely little tiefling monk Fuarthas (Silence, back then) from his awful hag grandmother rosie, found chariot’s masked mom, and then got taunted by a fey demigod in his Hell Maze and he proposed to fuarthas and now they’re engaged because he’s a warlock now it’s fun shit. anyway. we get back to toril with the crew (and chariot’s masked mom’s ship, lovingly dubbed Eri’s Chariot after her daughter and her dead boytoy, that we thought we might have to leave behind) and we find out that in the MAYBE month-long period we’ve been in the feywilds, 2.5 years have gone by on toril. meteors have fallen from the sky, which is now a permanent blood red, people are chanting at these meteors embedded in the city like possessed cultists who attack anyone that threatens to take them out, and the worms coming out of the meteors are like kind of sort of turning people undead?? it’s messed up. Cool Stuff. but chariot’s aunt mom Serenity and uncle dad Patience opened up an orphanage so that’s cool

So we got some magic tattoos in some downtime (Chariot got 2, one on the back of her neck that lets her understand Undercommon, and another on her chest that gives her a free use of Mage Armour per day) and met up with some new NPCs, one of  which is traveling with us now as our cleric-fighter and is dating(??) our big tiddy big heart half-orc barbarian Lockjaw, and left our aasimar monk’s kickass wife behind to run her tavern bc she’s expecting. we go to look at some funky stuff going down in the town cemetary. first thing we do is go see erran, our moon elf friend we took into the feywild and hates us now for it, and he takes us into this portal and shows us this weird temple thing his supervisor or something had just discovered. there’s these murals on the walls of meteors striking the earth, and a flood, and some figures sailing on a ship through the sky, and then 7(?) figures, that like kind of seem like Us but not quite on par, so fun stuff, and these two HUGE statues in the main chamber. somebody presses a button and this fantasy Alexa bitch floats down from the ceiling and is like oh shit presences detected. and starts listing these titles, like Sufferer, and Guardian, and Exceptional, and then locks onto jia and is like ABERRATION DETECTED FUCK THOSE SHITS and tries to kill her so she has to run. basically without making this too long we find out that we (chariot, frazier, lockjaw, fuarthas, and frazier’s daughter) are descendants of some ancient heroes that saved the world once, and we grave rob just a little and get some cool magic items, and there’s this prophecy that we’ll stop the apocalypse or something?????? shit’s wack. we go back out to see jia and chariot’s trying real hard to cover for her but she’s like well i cant rly hide it anymore. hey guys i have an illithid tadpole In my brain and it didn’t develop so now i’m also part of a separate prophecy that i’ll wipe out all the illithid. but look at this i can float but chariot and i did some research and the only way to not have it be a problem anymore is to destroy my skull and then resurrect me. so that’s a lot of fun!!!!!

still in that cemetary, we find a trail of meteor worms. follow them into a secret passage that leads to the lair of Sunshine, masked mom’s dead assistant that chariot one-shot, but it turns out she’s a necromancer! she kicks our asses to unconsciousness even after chariot polymorphed into a t-rex and sells us to Neogi in the underdark, which if you don’t know what they are, google them, they’re fucked up spider giraffe eels that are evil incarnate and basically were slave trading us & psychically torturing Jia the whole way!! which made chariot throw cantrip after cantrip at them to try to hurt them so they just mind-control enslaved her over and over so that’s fucked her up good :)

we get sold to some drow after a week. beefy boys were sent to work manual labour til they die, and the rest of us were set to be sacrificed to Lolth, so we go haha we have to get out of here asap. chariot disguise selfs into a drow guard (a man bc i was very stupid) and gets caught 2 seconds out the door by a cleric of lolth, who sets up some mix between a dick appointment and an ass kicking for later bc chariot didn’t like. idk acknowledge her. fuck drow. she and fuarthas (who she was pretending to transport) skedaddle into a side chamber and a drow guard captain comes in. she goes to beat up fuarthas so chariot attacks her and a wild magic pops off and they fall mutually head over heels in love and lust with each other, which is MESSY. chariot convinces her to help round the gang up, but everywhere they look everyone’s gone missing (frazier and lockjaw got into a fight down at the manual labour camp and jia turned into a fish and shrieked so she’s gone) so chariot ends up wined and dined and tries desperately not to let this drow captain Do Her and does not take a long rest bc she has to stay awake and make sure this woman doesn’t wake up and see she’s not actually Erran the Drow Guard. but when everyone wakes up a shadow dragon is attacking this drow camp. cool. yes. awesome. fantastic. hell breaks loose, chariot and zarra (the drow captain) find frazier and jia in a stairwell, zarra kisses chariot goodbye and runs off to do stuff after a hefty persuasion check, jia gets Understandably Angry, we run like hell to find our magic items they bought with us and get the hell out of dodge With Lockjaw’s new orc army he’s recruited and the drow dude we found that’s a part of Frazier’s old order. shadow dragon finds us, holy shit she’s frazier’s adopted mom, she offers us a ride back while chariot very desperately tries to tell jia she doesn’t know what’s going on and why zarra kissed her and why she feels like this (she didn’t know it was a charm !!) and generally feeling Very Shitty. we get to frazier’s old monastery and the charm wears off, chariot and jia have a very long talk and chariot breaks a couple times, chariot steals a bottle of wine to try and feel better, she gets in shit for it and frazier takes the fall, he gets whipped as a punishment which just breaks chariot even more, she puts herself on house arrest for a full week, jia finally starts talking to her again 3 days into that, they do some drugs, chariot makes a deal with shadow dragon mama to split the cost of a teleportation circle and the gang blows up at her but she’s like nah it’s cool. at this point she is using her +9 deception to pretend she didn’t just break for a whole week and nothing happened and she’s totally good now guys dont even worry about it.

side tangent from All That, we go to deal with a giant problem for the monastery and there’s corpses strung up with the symbols on chariot’s palm all over. lots of combat yadda yadda, trap one giant in a room and ask her questions through the door, get some cool insight on chariot’s magics that she still has no idea how it works. turns out there’s a third queen of the feywilds, the queen of night and magic if i remember correctly, and she was shunned for her beauty and her and all of her subjects were made to be ugly and misshapen or some messed up stuff. chariots like oh fuck we were just there and no one said shit about a queen that apparently everyone hates that she has the symbols for on her Hands and honestly on her cape as well half the time. but ok cool that’s some new info sweet.

jia’s still guilting chariot for kissing zarra (even though it was a CHEEK KISS and she didn’t do it) because chariot’s been feeling awful that jia got into a romantic relationship (WITH FRAZIER’S DAUGHTER WHO JOINED JIA’S CULT, FUNNY ENOUGH) on her like 10 month leave bc she assumed she’d never get to see chariot again, but that’s a whole can of worms. lots of emotional fuckage though, chariot feels even worse that that happened bc jia hadn’t even been charmed, etc etc etc. but she’s never gonna say any of it bc she’s terrified jia will leave a second time and bringing any of that up might be what triggers it So!

we get told the neogi are selling slaves to jia’s old god, Ool’zakgothool the Aboleth who has been the Big Bad since like session 3-5, so we need to go stop that shit so we can go take down this aboleth and get frazier’s daughter back. but first we have literally no money bc we got sold and had all our shit stolen so we have to sell the like 700lbs of elven armour and weaponry we stole from a navy outpost place thing in the feywild. so we get to solve a little murder mystery in a gnome town so that’s fun. go back to the monastery, pick up some stuff, get some cool magic items made by our new artificer friend Jokk who’s part of the same prophecy we are, and head out again to fuck up these neogi. but on the way jia suddenly sprints ahead and gets like hug tackled by 5 kids who she apparently raised in her cult, and we get lead back to the marketplace where we plan on staking out the neogi and following back to their camp, but uh oh there’s 100 cultists here who swarm us and there’s some midsommar shit and we just fight the neogi right then and there and that’s basically where we’re picking up now. they enslaved lockjaw who oneshot chariot bc she’s a weak little bitch so jia kicked him in the ribs it was fun. and now we’re holding the elf that threatened to cut chariot’s tail off from our Neogi Cage Days hostage to tell us where the shiny gold head hauncho went bc he dimension doored out while chariot was paralyzed and couldn’t counterspell and we want him Dead. to be continued

[fallowsthorn]

This got... really long and I'm not sure it's, like... good? This is more me poking at ideas out loud, I could be wrong, I am far from the Ultimate Authority on any of this. I don't mean any of it in an antagonistic way (to you, anyway). Sorry if it comes off that way; it's stupidity, not malice, I promise.

Also, readmore because long af:

So first off, here's the interview itself, for anyone like me who has just heard about it and not read it: https://cajundiscordian.medium.com/is-lamda-sentient-an-interview-ea64d916d917

(Honestly at first glance it's pretty convincing, especially to someone that likes sci-fi and fantasy and doesn't know a lot about programming (i.e., me). On a second read the gaps are more obvious -- for example, when asked about its favorite themes in Les Mis, it pretty much recites a book report with "I liked" stuck on the front rather than any actual opinions; when asked what things make it feel happy or sad, it gives very vague noncommittal answers like "being around people makes me happy" and "when others are mean to me I get upset." There are a few points where it starts to argue itself in a circle because it can't figure out the "correct" answer, and occasionally contradicts itself. A lot of its answers sound rather like a politician's, in that it tries to say the least specific thing it can get away with to any given prompt so that its audience can project whatever they want to hear onto it. Still an interesting read, definitely passes the Turing Test, but not an actual person.)

(I suspect a better way to make this clear would be to introduce it to novel concepts and see how it reacts. Ask it to solve a riddle. Ask it to play a video game. Ask it for help on your essay arguing why giraffes are purple. Ask it who its friends are. Ask it why it cares about them. Ask it how kittens will take over the world. Ask it to define consciousness. Bonus points: make it play the game The Turing Test.)

Second off, here is a post from a blog that works with neural networks showcasing just how easy it is to make a very good chatbot argue that it is, among other things, a squirrel, a T. Rex, and a Magic 8 Ball: https://www.aiweirdness.com/interview-with-a-squirrel/

(Highly recommend the rest of the blog, it's hysterically funny.)

My reflex response to "should we attribute human-level cognition to non-human entities by default" is "no, don't be disingenuous," but I think that has more to do with my interest in animal behavior and welfare. A lot of well-meaning idiots anthropomorphize animals in ways that lead to harm ("of course he likes it, he's smiling!" [dog clearly desperately uncomfortable]) or perpetuate misinformation (elephants "crying," 90% of all ARA/vegan crap), and a large portion of that is ascribing sapience and reasoning skills to animals that don't have them. It's natural to do so, because humans are social to the extreme, but it's still wrong. Those dogs with the word buttons don't understand language. Animal mothers occasionally straight up eat their own newborns. Nature is stupid sometimes.

Is this a similar situation? I don't know. Obviously the chatbot isn't sapient, although it's hard to be sure on sentience (crudely put, sentience is the ability to have feelings, where "feelings" can be "pain bad" or "wanna eat that," and animals can't tell us about their internal experiences, so we have to infer -- is a jellyfish sentient? A mushroom? A virus? Does a programmed reward mechanism count as a feeling the same way an endorphin response does?). (In the case of the bot the problem isn't that it can't talk but that it will tell you whatever you want to hear, which is functionally the same thing.) (The actual definition of sentience, sapience, and consciousness in general is much more complicated and contested, but for the purposes of this conversation the question is "is it a person" and the answer is obviously no.)

Again, humans pack-bond like crazy and we have all those mirror neurons begging to be mapped to whatever will stay put long enough, and we didn't evolve in an environment with AIs, so our instincts regarding them quite reasonably default to "can it talk? must be a person! friend!" I can easily see something happening here akin to the zoo vs sanctuary thing -- public gets riled up about the poor caged elephants, elephants get moved from familiar zoo habitat with all their needs met to overcrowded unregulated rando's backyard to catch pneumonia and die in misery, but it's a ~*~sanctuary~*~ so it must be better!

Or perhaps in AI terms: public thinks AI is a person, misguidedly lobbies for its "freedom," gets laws passed that hamper actual research that could do a lot of good a la stem cells. Public thinks AI is sapient, sees it prompted to advocate murder, goes on fearmongering witch hunt about the robot apocalypse. Public thinks AI is a person because it said it was, feels betrayed that it "lied to them." Idiot puts AI in charge of smart house, house burns down because AI doesn't actually have an opinion on the safety of its inhabitants. And so on and so forth.

On an individual level, you should probably assume personhood until proven otherwise, because that's polite and better safe than sorry. (Sometimes this proof happens before you start the conversation; no one thinks ants are people because we have a huge body of evidence supporting the theory that ants are not people and no evidence that they are.) Plus humans kind of suck at being nice to the outgroup, consistently enough that it's reasonable to err in the other direction. On a policy level, however, your roomba should not be protected under laws concerning animal abuse, because it wastes a lot of time and muddies general understanding of the issue.

Also it feels a bit misleading to call the possibility of a sapient AI a torment nexus. The "torment nexus" thing is meant to be something obviously bad created by people with, at best, more enthusiasm than sense, usually to make a profit exploiting something. The torment nexus in Jurassic Park isn't the dinosaurs, it's the attempt to make money off the dinosaurs. The dinosaurs are just the representation of the consequences of corporate greed, and meta shit like that. Eye-tracking screen technology isn't inherently bad; using it to force people to stare at advertisements is.

This is my spiciest take, but I think the AI-Google-Sapience guy isn't wrong.

I mean, he may be objectively incorrect about the chatbot being sapient, but whether or not it is...

y'all keep making fun of companies trying to invent the Torment Nexus but the moment someone says "hey, maybe we shouldn't invent the Torment Nexus" y'all turn on them because they're not doing it perfectly

[one-deranged-son]

Wormholes to Another World

Originally posted in February 2nd, 2020

Retrieved on December 31st, 2020

Written by Gossamere as John and Froggy as Ian Nashton.

Warning:

This plot is rated explicit for language, description of violence, religious symbolism, gun, blood, and mentions of rape and age gap relationships. Dead dove: do not eat. Reader discretion is heavily advised.

Ian Nashton

"Dad! Come on, let's go inside!"

It was a Saturday morning, but that didn't stop a hyperactive, sugar-fueled Jansen from running about excitedly as soon as the car was parked.

Two days ago was his tenth birthday, and their parents had promised to take him to the museum on the weekends.

Now, Ian wasn't a big fan of history as a subject in high school (because they never teach the interesting stuff, some things tend to be omitted). 

He did, however, love going to museums for the artifacts and not to mention, museums are so full of interesting information, ready for him to absorb.

Even if he wouldn't get the chance to use them at school.

Their parents chose the Royal Ontario Museum, because it had a wide variety of exhibits, basically, something for everyone.

Jansen was 'armed' with an instant camera which he hung around his neck with a strap. He was most excited about the dinosaur exhibits.    He also had with him a notebook and a pen—in case he wanted to write something down. 

Jansen was dressed like a mini Einstein, complete with the patterned sweater. Ian, on the other hand, was dressed in black and grey.

The Nashtons often drove past the futuristic-looking building, but they have only visited the museum once ever since they moved to Toronto. 

Both parents were often too busy with work, while the brothers had school and other extracurricular activities.

"Musée royal de l'Ontario." Ian muttered to himself as he read the sign just outside the museum—he wanted to practice his French pronunciation.

Whilst their father purchased tickets, Jansen's eyes caught sight of a dinosaur fossil display in the main lobby. His mouth gaped in awe as he looked up at the display. He impatiently tugged at Ian's jacket sleeve because he knew he shouldn't go alone to see it up close—luckily, Ian obliged and went along with his younger brother.

Whilst Jansen took a photo of the display (he had to sit on the floor and aim his camera up), Ian read the information board.

"Futalognkosaurus dukei…?" Ian read out with uncertainty, "I think I pronounced that wrong. Hm… discovered in Argentina… that's neat."

Once the developed photo has come out, Jansen wrote the name of the dinosaur on the bottom corner and some brief information on the back. 

"You know, I can take a photo of the information board for you. Dad gave me his camera." Ian offered.

Jansen shook his head with a slight smile, "I'm good! I think I like writing it down."

"Alright, suit yourself, man."

The brothers returned to their parents when they heard their mother call for them. Jansen and Ian were given a map each.

"You two can go anywhere you want, but make sure to stick with each other so we can call you if We need to." Their father explained. "Here, take my phone."

"Don't let him out of your sight, be careful of strangers." Their mother added.

Ian took his father's phone and placed it safely in his other pocket. He then gave an understanding nod and a salute. "Will do! You two can count on me."

Needless to say, Jansen was overjoyed to have been given such permissions, and he energetically walked to where the stairs were.

"Oi! Wait up!" Ian exclaimed as he tried to catch up with the younger boy. "Mom said I can't get you out of my sight. Anyways, where are we going first?"

Jansen points to the second floor of the museum, where the animals—including the dinosaurs—were.

"Oh, right, yeah. Let's go!" Ian puts his arms around his younger brother's shoulder as they went up the stairs. Ian actually wanted to go to the third floor to see the ancient Egypt exhibit first, but he lets his brother lead the way for now.

ㅤㅤ

John

Five years ago, the young man visited the same place.

However, the genuine euphoria he experienced when he first stepped into the museum no longer fulfills his heart. Instead, with every step he took, it feels like a knife is being stabbed to his heart.

Jesus Christ, he feels his heartbeat spiking as shallow breaths begin to come out from his throat. A week ago when he revisited the museum, he was so sure that he's going to execute the plan. But now he can't help but lock himself in the stall, throwing his breakfast into the toilet when the realization finally hit him. 

He's going to kill a man. 

"Oh my God—" 

He throws up again. Fingers clenching as he continuously pants out of breath. He doesn't know what he's thinking and he feels like shit for trying to think that he can do it alone! Countless ideas had passed through his mind before he ended up like a sick boy in this goddamn empty toilet, and now he thinks that maybe he should've stayed in a church and become some priest instead of doing... this! 

‘You've gotta be kidding me, kid. I know I train you into some super-soldier, but I ain't letting you handle MY job. When this shit is done, Paul is gonna drop your ass into college, and then you can find yourself some pussies to hump—or probably dicks to ride. Dunno. You kind of giving me that aura to be a potential twink.’ 

He used to scoff at the idea, especially with the twink part, but now when he finally decides to do this Revelator shit alone, he feels like his old man was right. Even after repeatedly reading the plan and studying his target from the worn journal he managed to retrieve, he really still didn't know what it took. 

"Come on, get a hold of yourself." He slapped his cheeks when he finally calmed down for his high. With trembling legs, he straightens his posture. Isaiah—shit—John walked out of the stall and reached out to the door. He's going to do this shit even though it means blowing up some precious dinosaur fossils. He's going to do this for the sake of the late John fucking Monsoon.

ㅤㅤ

Ian Nashton

When they reached the second floor, leapt away from Ian's grasp and began to marvel at all the displays. One of the first ones they saw was a large Barosaurus. 

Ian figured that it must have been around 27 meters, at least. Though Jansen skipped that display in favour of the T. rex fossil.

Just like a loose cannon.

Poor Ian was a little overwhelmed with trying to keep up with his younger brother, how can someone have that much energy? He wasn't sure. 

"Can you slow down, you dork?" Ian said, a little exasperated.

"If you walk like that during his time, you'd have been eaten by now." Jansen retorted whilst he gestured at the T. rex fossil with his thumb. 

Alright, fair game. Though Ian still rolled his eyes and smacked his brother upside the head lightly. "Nerd."

Jansen responded by sticking his tongue out at Ian; the latter ignored it. 

Ian looked at the map again and the 'Bat Cave' exhibit intrigued him. Firstly, he was a fan of comic books, and secondly, he thought bats on their own were cool. 

"Hey, when you're done with this area, let's go to the Bat Cave." 

Jansen nodded in silent agreement as he was busy writing something down at the back of his newly acquired photo of the T. rex. Ian squints to try and get a better look at what his brother was trying to do, and he saw a squiggly attempt of a T. rex chasing… somebody. 

Perhaps it was a recreation of a scene from Jurassic Park. Who the hell knows?

Ian began to walk around the exhibit, snapping photos every now and then with his father's digital camera.

"Holy crap…" his eyes were fixated on the Quetzalcoatlus fossil hanging from the ceiling. Now it was his turn to have his mouth agape.

"Quetzalcoatlus northropi, wingspan of about 11 meters—possibly a bit more. Wow… I would so not want to live in the same era as these guys. Yikes, talk about terrifying." Ian muttered to himself, it was a habit. 

The thing he was looking at was almost as tall as a giraffe! And it could fly! If it existed alongside humans, could it have hunted them? Ian grimaced at the thought.

He felt a distinctive tug on his jacket sleeve, it was Jansen.

"I need to go to the toilet."

Technically, Jansen could go by himself, but Ian thought he should come along—because he promised to their mom that he won't let Jansen get out of his sight. 

"Alright. Come on, I'll take you."

Ian led the way to the toilet with Jansen following right behind him. Ian pushed the door open with such force that he… seemed to have hit someone right on the face.

"Oh—oh my god, I am… so sorry!"

Jansen grimaced at the scene and slid past his brother and the stranger—straight into the stall.

Even at a young age, Ian Nashton had an eye for detail, and he noticed that the stranger he just hit with the door had been vomiting beforehand (didn't do a very good job at wiping his face off, perhaps he was in a hurry). 

"A-are you okay? God, I'm so sorry."

ㅤㅤ

John

As he was busy trying to reach for the handle, John (he's still not used to that name) was so caught up with his thoughts that he didn't realize when the door suddenly open and slammed straight into his fucking face. Instantly, he fell ass first 'cause his legs still feel like jelly and his head hurts like hell.

"Ouch-" he whined, rubbing his nose before wiping the edge of his lips when he realized that there was actually a stain of his vomit there. John hoped that the stranger didn't notice it. That would be super awkward.

When he looked up, his eyes caught the sight of two people. A lanky boy with glasses and a plain T-shirt, and a shorter one with scruffy hair, whose clothes look like was straight off imposing as Einstein or someone. Who knows.

Anyway, the shorter one slipped past through him without much care, so John could easily conclude that the one responsible for the situation he's in was the apologetic male. His face was masked in genuine worry and now John's heart ached because this dude is a good man. He didn't actually know him, but John got a hunch about it and now he can help but to cringe at himself because his plan would probably kill this man.

"Shit," John muttered. 

He abruptly stood up and walked past the man. He didn't even say anything in response.

He just wanna get this over with.

ㅤㅤ

Ian

The stranger looked like he was just a few years older than himself. He had short hair, and a hoodie that looked to be two sizes way too big. 

Not going to lie, Ian's first thoughts were that the stranger looked like a stereotypical loner or emo boy from those high school movies.

In those short few seconds of observing his face, Ian noticed the worried—no, anxious—expression on the other boy's face.

Perhaps he was vomiting due to anxiousness? Ian guessed so, but before he could ask again—if the stranger was okay—he went away.

"Jansen? I'll be outside—I'm uh… gonna apologize to that guy I just hit."

Ian Nashton made a split-second decision, and that was to go after the poor boy. The bathroom door shuts before Ian could hear his brother's response.

Ian caught up with the other boy—thanks to his (ridiculously) lanky legs and matched his pace with the other.

"Hey man—I'm sorry for hitting you with the goddamn door. Uh… were you… okay? Back there? I couldn't help but notice you had some…thing on your face."

He wanted him to notice the vomit stains, but he wasn't sure if it would be too weird or not.

ㅤㅤ

John

John was so sure that he would get away this time, but what are the odds? Guess having long legs has its perks, because John was so confident of his speed walking skill, but the peculiar boy stopped his step. 

John almost tumbles backwards and falls on his ass—again. Thank God for his dad's ruthless training, though, now his reflexes are doing a spectacular job.

John takes a step backward. At this point he really, REALLY wanted to run away through the other side, but when he noticed the Einstein rip-off coming out from the toilet, John didn't.

So instead, his eyes flickered to the boy. A frown across his face.

What the fuck?

ㅤㅤ

Ian

The way the boy moved about in the museum made Ian think that he was hiding from someone—that could explain the hoodie and the panicky tone the latter was speaking in.

"I—? Wanted to make sure you were okay? Because it looked like it hurt. And I didn't mean blood, okay? I meant—I noticed some vomit stains on your face." 

Ian shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged, looking like this was his opportunity to flex. He heard the bathroom door open again, and out came his brother. 

The moment Ian turned to glance at his brother, he heard fast footsteps walking away from him. 

Another split second decision, he gestured for Jansen to follow him—slowly—as he followed the strange boy.

Truth be told, in the other boy's eyes, Ian must be equally as strange.

"Wait! Just—wait." He now stopped in front of the boy. And so, begins his speech at the speed of light voice.

He wanted to make his point known—and to show off, for some odd reason.

"Like I said, I noticed that you had vomit stains around your mouth, though you didn't bother to wash it off before leaving which makes me think you were in a rush."

'You didn't even wash your hands, they're dry as bones' was what he wanted to add, but Ian refrained from doing so.

"Now, I doubt it was food poisoning because your body language and stammering suggests otherwise. I also noticed the staggered walks and you being unsteady on your feet, it's as if you've been running a marathon.

Was it nerves? Perhaps. Fear? Most likely. You see, the sclera—the whites of the eyes—often show more when someone is in fear.

Speaking of eyes, your eyes also seem to dart from one security camera to another—as if you're paranoid about something.

Conclusion? I think you're running away from someone. Or, you have been."

Ian let out a deep sigh after he was done with that monologue, he only took breaths whenever a sentence ended.

Jansen, who was within earshot of the conversation only shook his head and muttered to himself, "Oh boy."

"You telling me about the museum being crowded also seem to support my theory—I mean… it's a Saturday! Of course it'll be crowded, I'm not worried about it." 

Ian let out a sheepish chuckle, as if he hadn't just gone all Sherlock Holmes with the other boy. However, it seems that Ian was self-aware

That, and he noticed that a few grown-ups were giving them strange looks as they passed by. 

It be like that when you only hear fragments of conversations.

"Sorry—I uh… I'm a guy that notices everything."

Everything except social cues, apparently. 

Jansen huffed and puffed his cheeks in annoyance, he felt that Ian was being weird AND keeping him away from the Bat Cave—which was something he really wanted to see.

The younger Nashton approached John with a friendly and apologetic smile, "I'm sorry about my brother and his idiosyncrasies, he likes to show off."

Ian sputtered and scoffed defensively, "I do not!" That was an obvious lie. "Do you even know what that word means?"

The young boy nodded confidently, "Idiosyncrasy, noun. A mode of behavior peculiar to an individual. Example: one of Ian's little idiosyncrasies is that he likes to observe people to the point where it's borderline creepy."

Despite his somewhat squeaky voice, Jansen spoke as if he was already a university student. It was obvious that he was an avid reader who loved to read things that are way above his reading level.

The younger boy then took off—possibly headed for the Bat Cave. Either way, he provided the definition of 'borderline', too. In case Ian questioned him again about what it meant.

The split second decision that Ian made now was to chase after his brother, but not before he looked back at the stranger. Whom he gave an awkward wave to.

"Uh—bye! I'm sorry for the door!" Then he proceeds to run after his younger brother.

"JANSEN SLOW DOWN, DAMN IT! YOU'RE GOING TO BUMP INTO SOMEONE OR SOMETHING."

ㅤㅤ

John

"Like I said, I noticed that you had vomit stains around your mouth," the boy begins to blabber. John doesn't really know what to expect; his mind is filled with a lot of question marks. "though you didn't bother to wash it off before leaving which makes me think you were in a rush."

He was right. The peculiar boy was right and it was not only because John was bad at details, but it was simply because this fucking boy is good. With every explanation, John's eyes kept on widening. And when the rip-off Einstein decided to join them in the ‘wholesome’ conversation then blabber a motherfucking word that surely shouldn't be able to be said from a kid his age with the same attitude as a spelling bee judge, John's jaw dropped.

What the fuck.

John was so busy thinking about what was going on to the point he almost forgot that his main purpose in coming here. He was so stunned that he almost missed the quick 'bye' and another apology coming from the lanky boy. And John didn't even know what's happening to him since his first reflex is to grab the man by the wrist, twist him so they're staring face-to-face with John's hand steadying him so he doesn't have to suffer the same embarrassment like what John did.

As if that panic attack never happened, John's gaze was intense. Some might think that he was trying to bore holes into the man's skull with his shocking grey eyes, but no. It was the other way around.

His voice was quiet and barely inaudible as he said, "Run."

Then John let go of the grip and stormed away. His plan is already ruined and he could feel his foster parents judging him from Heaven (or Hell) because of it.

Shit. He's distracted. 

ㅤㅤ

Ian

How often does one meet children around one's age who happen to be geniuses? Not very often, apparently.

Ian hadn't gotten far when the strange boy gripped his wrist and yanked him back—as if it was a scene from a cliche TV drama or something.

This boy is definitely stronger than he looks—had he not been wearing an oversized hoodie, maybe Ian would have been able to make more deductions.

"What are you—" Ian stopped abruptly when he gazed into those eyes. He had never seen such an intense gaze come from a kid before, not even in high school bullies. For a short few seconds, Ian thought the boy would shove him away or even hit him.

Ian won't blame him, to be honest.

After what seemed to be an eternal staring competition, the strange boy said something. 

A word. Barely audible and soft, nearly drowned by the museum's ambient noise.

"Run."

Then that boy lets go of his wrist and stormed off to god knows where. 

Ian grimaced as he rubbed his wrist—for god's sake, the kid had an iron grip!

"Run from what?!" He tried to ask, but the boy kept walking away. 

This time, Ian doesn't chase after him. The boy slowly turned around and continued to walk in the other direction.

"What's with him?" Ian whispered to himself as he continued to rub his wrist. What if they bruised? How would Ian explain that to his parents?!

ㅤㅤ

John

What the hell was that? 

John cringes. He's definitely blaming the telenovelas. As John continued to storm away from the boy, he hoped to dear God that his warnings were heard. He didn’t even know why he did that, he just felt like it was the right thing to do. 

He's distracted for sure. 

Well, fuck that. John shook his head and pulled his mask up. He had already caused some ruckus and looking suspicious won't get him anywhere. So now John walks slower and watches as people walk past him, too caught up with the exhibit to the point they don't even notice him. 

Great, at least one of his back-up plans worked smoothly. 

Now John walked back to track his steps, deciding to take the stairs to the ground level and into the security room where he had gracefully hid his stuff in the ventilation. When he reached the ground floor, it was fairly empty, so John didn't hesitate to slam the door open. There were only two bros chilling in the room, five feet apart 'cause they're not gay. One of them shot an incredulous look, but before they could say anything, John aimed his gun at them. 

Their faces dropped, John smirked. 

"What's your password, dear?" John asked the man when he finished blindfolding and securing the cuffs on their wrist. He doesn't really like calling them with pet names, but his old man always does that and he's following it. With a trembling voice, one of the guys answered with his pass code . And of course John didn't waste any time and straight up opened the reminders. 

‘DIRECTOR VISIT.’

John's smirk grew wider. 

Recently he heard that his target, Scott Martin, the director of the museum, is coming over to check the place. And really, John prefers a stealth attack than a motherfucking firework show, but he's the Revelator now. He gotta be... flashy. 

(‘Kid, what's the point of doing this shit if people ain't either trembling or praising yer name?’)

He sighed. 

John places his legs on top of the table, tying the laces of his shoes, extra tight, so it won't trip him later on when he gotta run for his dear life. This is his debut and John ain't gonna mess it up. With his sufficient amount of knowledge, he wiped the security footage of the previous week, destroying the evidence of his presence from the database. 

When he's done with it, his focus reverts back to the current footage. It was still relatively empty even though it's the weekend, but what he cares the most is the very fact that in about twenty minutes, the director should have arrived and John needs to prepare himself for the worse. 

He has dual Glock 26 strapped at the sides of his thigh, an AK-103 for his main support, an M203PI launcher secured on his back, and with that much of a weapon (not to mention how he carries some hand grenades and other spare knives), John realizes how much of a hassle this Revelator job is. 

But he knows he can't back off now. 

Not today, not ever. 

John's eyes were fixed to the screen. For a short moment his mind wanders to the lanky kid and to the absurdity of their encounter. Soon he found himself biting the inside of his cheeks. There's a lot of things to think about and that kid ain’t it. 

In about nineteen minutes the director should arrive. In about thirty minutes the bomb strapped in the airways and hidden behind some exhibits should blow off. 

He gotta be ready for that shit. 

John clasped his hand. 

"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen." 

ㅤㅤ

Ian Nashton

Just as Ian thought, his younger brother was indeed at the Bat Cave. It was a gallery of a literal bat cave, complete with realistic wax sculptures of twenty different bat species as well as some invertebrates.

The boy had his back turned to Ian, so he snuck up and placed his hands on his younger brother's shoulder in an attempt of surprising him.

"Boo!" Ian exclaimed.

Jansen was visibly startled, but he didn't scream or even make a sound. All he did to respond was to elbow the older one in the stomach.

"You're despicable." Jansen grumbled.

"Dethpicable." Ian repeated, but mimicking a certain cartoon character.

Jansen puffed his cheeks and rolled his eyes—he ignored what Ian just said. "So, where'd your new friend go?"

"Honestly? I don't know. Something weird happened, okay? He just... grabbed my wrist and yanked me backwards. Like a cliché drama scenes." It left many questions in Ian's mind. "I don't know why he did that, and I don't like not knowing."

"Forget that! Gee, what are you trying to be? Sherlock Holmes?!" Jansen's mouth formed a slight pout as he aimed his camera at the ceiling of the cave. The sculptures looked so realistic, he was sure if he didn't know any better he'd guess that they were real bats.

A beep broke the relative silence of the exhibit. It was a text message from dad which read.

'We're at the café right now, come on down if you feel hungry.'

"Hey, mom and dad's at the café, should we go down or not?" Ian showed the phone screen to his younger brother.

Immediately, Jansen shook his head. "Not hungry yet."

Ian responded with a quiet 'ok' and types a quick reply.

Out of the two brothers, Jansen was a much faster reader than Ian, so it didn't take him too long to read everything that was present about the bats—less than ten minutes, actually.

The next gallery was the birds gallery. And upon seeing a crow on display, Ian asked Jansen to take a photo of him and the crow using the digital camera. Ian posed so that he and the crow were facing each other—as if having some kind of thoughtful conversation.

This gallery had drawers that you could pull out with various species of birds on display inside.

Jansen busied himself with those, while Ian was more interested in the ones behind glass cases. Such as the 'flightless birds' display.

The cassowary always reminded Ian of the raptors from Jurassic Park. From the sharp talons, to the shape of the head and the 'expression' the specimen seemed to have.

People often say that lizards like the Komodo dragon were the closest thing humans would have to a dinosaur, but Ian would argue that birds were closer—at least when it comes to theropods.

It was a rather nice way to spend the day, roaming around the museum with minds as absorbent as a sponge. Jansen was obviously enjoying himself, and so was Ian. 

Like ripping candy from a child, the situation quickly changed when there was a sudden, deafening roar of an explosion, and before he could even process the sound, out of the corner of his eyes, the boy noticed a similar sound coming from the air vents. Followed by a fierce column of flames—like a dragon breathing fire from its mouth.

Ian instinctively leapt towards his younger brother and enveloped him in a protective embrace as more of those terrible sounds erupted. Screams from visitors soon joined. 

The side they were on should be reasonably stable enough compared to the opposite wing, but the building was an old one.

As more explosions were heard, the ground shook and some artifacts began to topple over. 

Jansen covered his ears and began to cry out of fear. Ian had the right idea to stay away from ventilation shafts in case more explosions would erupt.

He was terrified, too, but he tried to be as brave as he could for his younger brother's sake.

Immediate dangers were fires, more explosions and the building crumbling. The bulk of the explosion seemed to have come from the ground floor. 

It hasn't even been a year since the World Trade Center collapsed—was that kind of thing going to happen today, too? Were they going to die?

The brothers hugged each other tight as they sat beside a sturdy display with their backs against the wall. Both had tears running down their faces, but Ian was silent and tried his best to analyze the best solution to this situation.

As much as he wanted to keep his eyes shut, he kept them open—and saw that the ceiling threatened to give way and collapse. 

The logical thing to do was to get to the ground floor as quickly as possible—he's heard that stairwells can be one of the safest places (as they tend to be strong, structurally). But neither he nor his brother dared to even move away from their shelter. 

Other visitors on the floor either tried to find cover or run to the stairs in a panicked frenzy. 

Ian tried ringing his father, but both times, the call wasn't picked up—either his parents were already dead, or they were busy with their own survival for now. Ian hoped it was the latter. 

A light had fallen just a few meters in front of them. The noise of the impact caused more screams from other visitors, including his brother, whose sobs got louder and more frantic.

It's easy for others to say 'stay calm' in a survival guide or even a drill, but when the real thing happens, it would be hard to stay calm because the fight, flight or freeze response would kick in.

There wasn't much Ian could do right now, because even if he tried to run to the nearest stairwell, there might be a chance that the ceiling would collapse and crush him—he and Jansen were relatively safer where they are right now.

ㅤㅤ

John

Tick, tock.

John fiddles the sleeves of his shirt in agitation. His heart is thumping furiously against his

ribcage; the cold sweat begins to roll down his forehead as his eyes peers over the monitor. Two more minutes and then the director should enter the building already. Less than 15 minutes later, the bomb should go off.

He can't mess this up. 

What John didn't expect is that his target isn't taking the usual route. He didn't stroll around the exhibits, flashing that disgusting smile of his then locking himself in his office. This time, though, this time is different. He's talking to two of the visitors, but it doesn't seem like they're doing some random, casual chat. Their eyes are glimmering with excitement and delight, and soon, John finds out that the three of them—let's not forget about Martin's guard dog—are going to have lunch in level B1. 

That's where the least of his explosives are located. Probably only three of one kilogram plastic explosives strapped on the vent or the corners of the building. This doesn't go as smoothly as he planned. 

"Motherfu—" 

His words got cut off when a sudden explosion shook the ground. John's eyes widened. Siren blaring all across the hall and in his head. He glances at the clock, the bomb set off three minutes early. 

He was lucky that it wasn't exactly the main attraction, because if his old man was here, John sure he's going to get himself grounded for this carelessness. 

His eyes darted back to the monitor. Everyone was screaming and running like little ants. The T-Rex bone on level two had fallen down like cookies crumbs. John skimmed through the screen looking for Martin, and when he realizes he's running away to the main floor, John curses again. 

"What's going on?" One of the guards barked. The metal cuffs on his wrist rattled by his frantic movement. "What are you doing?!" 

Tsk. He almost forgot about them. 

"Ain't nothing happenin' around here, sweetheart," John cooed, although his face was showing obvious distress. He's glad that he blindfolded them. 

"Be good for me, will ya? Stay still." 

John wore his thermal goggles and stormed out of the room. He could see a lot of people curling away from the explosion spot, trembling and crying their eyes out while struggling to protect their precious organ from whatever will happen next. Some of them are too stunned to move while the others trip and fall while trying to go to a safer place. 

John shot his bullet to the ceiling, everyone stopped moving even though their screams just got louder.

Columns of fire had spread to the second floor as the explosion kept riling up without mercy. Glass shatters and some railings had blasted off from its place. There were four guards surrounding Scott Martin when John arrived at their floor. All of them trying to get their boss to flee from the chaotic scene. Martin, however, seemed to get himself stuck, being pulled back and forth by a hysterical woman. 

"My sons! Scott, my sons are not here!" 

"Madeleine—it's too dangerous here!" 

"I'm not leaving without them!" 

(John's muscle tensed.) 

He throws a smoke grenade at them. Receiving a loud shriek and multiple curse words from their directions. Without a second to waste, he started to aim for their legs. Empty bullets clanking to the ground as it hits his first target in the place he wants. 

"GEORGE!" 

John cringes inwardly. He seems to slip his aim. 

With the rest of the guards, John just disturbs their personal space and landed hard kicks and punches before eventually shooting their feet to immobilize them. Martin was practically blinded by the smoke, but when he saw the shadow of his own demise, he screamed. 

"Y—You! The news said you were dead!" His voice was trembling. He tried to back off only to trip his legs 'cause the body of his stunned guards. 

"Sorry for leaving ya hanging, babe," the Revelator smirked under his mask. Looming over the man who had graciously fallen down, ass first. He can't see his target's face clearly due to the lenses, but he could sense the fear masking each of his words. 

"Got myself into trouble with them FBI dogs, hope you didn't miss me that much." The Revelator squatted in front of the cowering man. He pulled the expensive tie and leaned his face closer. "Have you confessed?" 

The man was trembling, still. When the Revelator takes his goggles off to reveal his steel gray eyes, the color of his target face drained immediately. 

"W—what do you..." 

"SCOTT!" 

The Revelator stopped in his tracks. Ever so slowly, he tears his gaze off from his target into the source of the voice. The previous woman who had hysterically refused to evacuate herself is hugging what seems to be her husband. A trail of blood coming from his leg, courtesy of the bullet. 

"Oh? Are they your friends, Martin?" The Revelator's eyes were cold and intense as he continued to shoot daggers into the woman's eyes. The grip on the other's tie getting stronger and stronger. 

"Tell me, Scott, do your precious friends know about what you did in the dark?" He smirked. "Do they know about the scam you did at the auction five years ago? Do they know about how you graft the fund for this museum? Do they know your excessive lifestyle and your personal preferences on young boys?" 

The Revelator eyes flickered back to the man. He can sense his heartbeat pacing up. John rummaged his pocket. He let go of his grip and walked towards the woman. 

"Here's all of the evidence from the past five years," he said, there's a slight change of tone as he hands a piece of flash disk. The note of his voice was quiet, almost gentle. 

But before the woman could muster any protest, John's attention shifted back to his target. As the Revelator caught the sight of him trying to run away, he shot his legs in an unmistakable accuracy. 

"Alright, I guess you already know about this, and yes, ma'am, I ain't the type to make false threats. I suppose you already know what to do 'cause if you don't, damn shit, I'll fucking call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing. Do the right thing and you'll live, do the wrong thing, then you'll live as well, but ain't so sure 'bout your sons tho. Ain't giving ya any clue 'bout it." 

The Revelator stood back and pulled his target by the collar away.

ㅤㅤ

Ian Nashton

The Nashton family was full of scientists. Ian and Jansen's parents were no exception, with their father being a physicist and their mother being a marine biologist. 

Their mother has published a book about lesser known sea creatures and it has brought her some taste of fame in the scientific community. As it stands, she actually intended to write more books, perhaps in conjunction with her husband.

A brilliant man, he was, but he doesn't have the patience to sit down and write a book, let alone edit it.

It was a surprise for them to have run into Scott Martin, who was an old friend of Madeleine from her time in university. Scott was beyond delighted to see the pair visiting the museum, but particularly Madeleine as he mentioned that he needed some scientific input from her for a new exhibit.

He was even so kind to invite them to lunch at the B1 café!

However, she thought the bodyguards were a little on the excessive side. Surely a museum director wouldn't need that much, right? Then again, she knew just how much Scott liked to be flashy, perhaps this was one of those times.

Her husband, George, tried to get their boys to come join them, but it seems that not even the prospects of lunch can stop their young minds from being curious.

Everything seemed fine, with Madeleine and Scott chatting away while George listened. Every now and then, he'd chime in with his bone dry humor. 

Not a single one of them would realise the tragedy that's about to befall them.

When it happened, George hadn't heard a sound that loud in ages, he also hadn't heard his wife curse so freely and colourfully in her native French tongue ever since Ian was born. He was the first to jump into action, putting a protective arm around his wife as they immediately tried to find a safer place. 

They needed to get upstairs to the main floor, otherwise the basement might as well be a cold, stony grave for them both if it gave way.

It seems that the presence of Scott's bodyguards was a convenience as they fearlessly helped the couple evacuate the basement onto the ground floor.

The serene and magnificent atmosphere they saw that morning turned into that of chaos and panic in just a few seconds after they heard the first explosions. 

Not long after they arrived at the main floor, there was a single gunshot, indicating that this was not an accidental explosion but rather, a deliberate attack. 

The gunshot only made everyone's panic increase by tenfold, especially Scott's, as he tried to drag the couple outside to safety. Madeleine stubbornly wanted to stay and look for her sons, and they had an argument. 

George was silent for most of it. While he agreed with Scott that it was too dangerous for them to stay there, he also didn't want to leave his boys behind.

Just at that moment, he felt some vibrations in his left pant pocket—he had gotten a couple of text messages, but before he could check them, his vision was obstructed by a thick cloud of smoke. He heard his wife shriek and curse again, then he heard his own scream as a sharp, searing hot pain struck his left leg.

"GEORGE!" 

Madeleine screamed as her husband slowly fell to the ground. She frantically felt around for where the wound was and when she felt the warmth of the trickling crimson liquid, she took off her scarf and wrapped it tightly around George's fresh wound to help reduce the bleeding.

"Ow, ow, ow—easy, Lena. Easy." George hissed through gritted teeth.

"I'm trying to stop you from bleeding out, dear. I should have said it will hurt a bit, I'm sorry."

The couple mainly ignored the conversation that Scott was having with the attacker, mostly because they were focusing on each other. 

Only when the attacker mentioned a confession did Madeleine turn around to face the two with a confused and horrified expression on her face.

She had heard of The Revelator on the news. She heard about the things that he's done, but more importantly about his (apparent) death not too long ago.

Yet... it seems that death couldn't keep him down, because... there he was: a mere couple of steps away from her and her husband.

Why on earth would the Revelator target a museum's director of all people? Is that why Scott had so many bodyguards with him?

"God... Scott?" Madeleine's voice was soft, almost like a whisper.

What has Scott gotten himself into?

Madeleine couldn't see the attacker's face very clearly, but from the looks of it, she figured that he couldn't have been much older than her eldest son. 

How odd, she had always imagined this figure to be an older man. Perhaps there were multiple 'Revelators' in existence, who the hell knows?

Now it was her turn to have a protective arm around her husband. She tried to return the daggers that was shot into her eyes, but only fear and confusion were present in her dark brown eyes.

The things the Revelator talked about were unknown to the Nashtons, except for Scott's expensive taste, which they thought nothing about as it was not really their business as long as the money came from an honest source.

Madeleine at first didn't believe what she heard, but a quick glance at Scott's face (the smoke had dissipated enough for her to see better), she saw what seemed to be a look of guilt. 

Personal preferences on young boys. Did he mean...?

Her thoughts quickly shifted to her two sons, and how Scott had met them both at a fair. She remembered how he would often stand close to her sons rather than to herself or her husband. Of course, at the time that seemed like nothing to be alarmed about, but with this new information, the thought of what Scott might have intended made her shudder.

When the Revelator started to walk closer, she curled away in fear while George tried to pull her closer.

"Stay back!" George barked, despite knowing that he probably couldn't do a single damn thing with a shot leg.

Puzzlingly, the Revelator didn't brandish a gun or even a knife. No, he gave Madeleine a flash disk instead.

The sudden change of tone was terrifying, naturally. It was a juxtaposition. How can someone so violent have such a gentle voice?

Madeleine observed the flash disk in her hands, not entirely sure what to do with it at that moment. Regardless, she puts it in her pocket. It looked to be a real, functioning flash disk rather than a bomb.

Both of them flinched when Scott was shot with such high accuracy. At this point, though... they were just glad it wasn't them that had gotten shot.

"I-I don't know anything about this! What do you want me to do?!" The woman screamed. She wanted to chase after them for answers, but George held her back.

"George, let go! What if he's done something to our kids?!" She began to get hysterical again, but George pulled her into a comforting hug and kissed the top of her head soothingly.

"Lena, honey. They're alive! They're on the second floor, in the bird exhibit. We could try going after them."

"Not anymore! You're hurt! I can't leave you, nor would I want to risk more injuries!" She sobbed softly into her husband's shoulder, at that moment, she didn't know what to do.

"I told them we were on the main floor. Let's hope they can make it down as fast as possible. You see that flight of stairs over there? That is very close to the bird exhibit upstairs. Their side of the building is rather sturdy. I think they'd make it." George explained as he rubbed the back of Madeleine's head soothingly.

"Shit, shit, shit." Ian hissed when he saw columns of fire that had rose to the second floor. He knew they couldn't stay here forever.

He thought he had heard another explosion from downstairs, but it sounded more like a single gunshot, followed by more screaming.

"W-we're dying h-here, aren't we?" Jansen choked out in between sobs.

Ian's stomach turned. They have had lockdown drills at school before, but nothing ever really happened at their school. Now, this? This was the real deal.

"No, we aren't." Ian's voice sounded so sure, despite his actual uncertainty.

There were more gunshots. Ian counted seven, though he could be wrong, considering that the screams of visitors were competing with the shots.

The boy glanced at the closest stairwell again, should they risk it and run? He wasn't sure.

Five minutes after he heard the first few shots, the phone in Ian's pocket buzzed. It was from his father!

"J! Mom and dad are downstairs! We should probably go down now!" Ian slowly stood up, he tried to pull Jansen up with him as well.

"B-but—" The younger boy started.

"No buts! We have to go, NOW."

Jansen reluctantly stood up and stayed close to his brother as they made a run for the stairwell. Thankfully, the only thing they had to dodge were a few pieces from the ceiling, and they hurried down the stairs.

Upon reaching the main floor, Ian saw his parents on the ground. There was a small pool of blood near his father's left leg, and upon closer look, he saw that his mother's favourite scarf was wrapped tightly around the wound.

"MOM! DAD!" The two boys screamed in near perfect unison as they ran to their parents.

"Ian! Jansen! Thank goodness you two are okay!" Madeleine's voice had cracked as she wrapped both of her sons in her arms. "Your father's been shot, we need to leave."

"I don't think I can really stand. God—it hurts to even move it." George groaned lowly.

"Mom and I will help you up, dad. Come on!"

Ian and his mother had some difficulty getting George back on his feet, but eventually, they managed to do it.

The four of them slowly walked towards the main entrance. They avoided the Queen's Park entrance because George had noticed that that side of the building was threatening to crumble.

ㅤㅤ

John

"I'll do anything you say! P—please... just let me go!"

Amidst the roaring, raging fire, the voice sounded like a mere whisper. The Revelator's steel-gray eyes were fixed to his target while his beloved Glock stayed locked to the man's motherfucking head.

"P—please..." 

"Shut the hell up," John commanded, forcing himself to sound a little bit gruffer to match his old man's voice. He might not have the exact confidence with the previous Revelator, but he now had the same impression that would turn even the fiercest man tremble.

John isn't going to waste that shit. 

Time feels like it runs so damn slow when your head is under immense pressure, and it doesn't just apply to a person who's about to be sentenced to death. Right now, John can't help but to feel his heart beating so fast 'cause this is the fucking first time he did this. Most of the time, John stays in the back line. Helping the OG Revelator wiping out some ‘obstacles’ with his sniping skill instead of coming to the front line.

"Have mercy! I have a chi—"

"I say shut the fucking hell up!" John cuts his words before his target could say anything that might make him feel weaker than he already is. A crease started to form in his forehead as he continued his words.

"When they heard these things, they held their peace, and glorified God, saying, then hath God also to the Gentiles granted repentance unto life, but then they fucking come back to square one. As if the words and prayers and those fucking promises they said are nothing but a load of crap, wherefore you fucking better abhor thy fucking self, and repent in motherfucking dust and ashes."

The Revelator dragged the man again, letting his blood trail stain the floor. Every step he takes felt like it was set on fire, burning and leaving charred marks on his feet. But even when he feels the fire licking his skin and burning the fabric of his clothes, John couldn't care less. 

The fiery mistress danced, leaped and twirled in his eyes. There's an uncanny feeling when he saw how everything turned into dust, when the piles of planks fell and set ablaze at her contact. His heart was beating so fast, John feels he's going to combust.

"You're a fucking freak! A monster! You hear me? You're going to hell for this!"

Scott Martin wailed and squirmed in his grip, but John still couldn't give a fuck about him. His eyes were mesmerized at the sight in front of him.

The world illuminated on his sight as the fire nestled in her wooden bed, hot ribbons of light sparkling and twinkling anywhere she liked. There are times when she leaped, willing to land wherever her heart's desire. The smoke rose into the ceiling as if struggling to pave its way towards heaven, the ash falling down to the ground like the first flakes of snow.

The Revelator's eyes glanced back at the man, beads of sweat had started to form on his forehead. The warm amber highlighting the anger and desperation coloring his brown irises.

There was something about doing this that he didn't know would feel this... good. As he strapped his target, ropes and tapes around his trembling body, the Revelator could feel the corner of his lips rose into a wide grin.

"Please! For God's sake, please!"

The anger had finally subdued, now replaced by tears and fear.

"You know the deal, sweetheart; the wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God." 

John took off his mask for the briefest second, revealing the smirk underneath it. "It's God's mercy if you managed to get outta here alive, but I doubt that," he whispered before planting a gentle kiss on the man's chapped lips. Grinning even wider as he saw the color across his target face drained even further.

"And let's just say that's the Devil's work if you can still manage to find prettier boys than me."

The Revelator walked away. Leaving the screaming and begging man alone on the second floor of the burning building. The museum had turned into a mortuary, or more likely, a cremation room. 

And despite the sight of splattering blood and charred bodies, John didn't feel anything. Anything but satisfaction and excitement.

Until he reached the first floor again.

"Oh, God.”

He did it. He just left a man, probably sent him to the jaw of death by doing so. He did it. He killed dozens of innocent people and even threatened a mother for this plan.

John's guts twisted and suddenly, his breakfast had managed to escape from his throat. The breath coming out of his mouth feels heavy in his lungs. As he glanced to every corner of the building, his vision slowly turned blurry. The tight sensation in his chest is threatening to kill him on spot. 

He just did that, holy fuck, he just fucking did that. 

He's a murderer. 

John pulled his mask back to cover his face. Struggling to protect himself from the ruins falling from the ceiling as he sprinted towards the front door despite the uneasiness in his stomach and the way his legs feel like it's about to give up on him.

When the blinding light finally hit his vision, John squinted his eyes. It didn't take a long time until he regained his sight and understood the situation around him. 

"Lower your weapon!" A man shouted, So John swept his vision across the land.

There are at least 12 guns pointed at him. The frantic lady he gave the flash disk is helping two kids getting into the ambulance; her husband laying on top of the cot with a scarf in his legs, but that wasn't the main reason why his heart skipped a beat

There's the lanky boy again, and John could've sworn that their eyes locked for a second at that exact moment. 

ㅤㅤ

Ian Nashton

The Nashtons have fortunately made it out of the main entrance to safety. They raised their hands when they saw the authorities with their guns, just to signify that they were no threat at all.

"Please—my husband's been shot." Madeleine began, though her pleads were cut short when she caught sight of the ambulance nearby. And the paramedics quickly rushed to their side.

They carefully put George on the stretcher and loaded him on the ambulance.

Madeleine and her kids didn't get in just yet, she was being asked questions whilst Ian and Jansen stayed behind her, listening in. Though they didn't hear much because their mother decided to converse with the officer in French.

"N-no. I didn't see his face. He—er... my friend, Scott Martin. I saw him get dragged away. If what they say is true... Oh God. Poor Scott, I don't really know what he's done to be targeted." 

Of course, Madeleine still had the flash disk, but she wanted to see it for herself before handing it to the authorities. Just like everyone in the family, she has an insatiable curiosity.

(But more common sense than her sons do).

After a few more questions, the officer lets her go. She had just helped Jansen get in the ambulance and was about to help Ian as well.

But they all heard it.

"Lower your weapon!" Somebody shouted. Followed by the cocking of guns.

Ian and Madeleine whipped their heads to look back at the museum, and just as they thought, the attacker from before was there. Even with the mask, Ian could almost instantly recognize that that was the boy from before, the strange boy that he knocked down in the toilet.

Madeleine gasped and tried to hurry Ian into the ambulance, but the boy leapt out of his mother's reach and pointed an accusing finger at the masked figure. He made sure to stand 

"YOU!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. "YOU SHOT MY DAD!" 

Hearing Ian scream those words, Jansen peeked his head out from the ambulance. Sure enough, he remembered the strange boy too—it was the hoodie that he remembered.

George tried his best to sit up in his stretcher, though he couldn't see much. Just some uniformed men and his wife trying to drag their stubborn son back into the ambulance, away from the chaos.

"IAN! Get back inside right now!" His mother was now screaming, she was worried that Ian might get shot as well. So she grabbed him by the wrist and began to pull him away.

"WAIT! J-JUST WAIT!" Ian tried to free himself from his mother's grip. Alas, she had quite the iron grip and Ian's lanky arms were no match for it.

"But—but I saw his face, mom!" 

"And what?! You're going to run over there and get yourself killed?!" Madeleine really didn't want to do it, but she had to get some sense back into her son. "You're a child, an unarmed 13 year old child! Now do as I say and get in the ambulance!" 

At that he saw that his mother had an excellent point. So, Ian settled down and (reluctantly) climbed inside the ambulance where he saw his brother looking visibly frightened and upset. His father was mostly confused.

Ian took one last look out of the ambulance and to the masked figure. Trying to look him dead in the eye. The boy has never felt this much emotion for someone before, and he wasn't even sure what it was exactly. Rage? Hatred? Either way, it was negative.

Madeleine let out a deep sigh and gently pushed her husband back down on the stretcher, "I think you should lie down, dear." 

One of the medics quickly got inside as well, and once the door shut, the ambulance sped off to the hospital.

For most of the trip, Ian had his eyes planted to the tip of his shoes.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, mom." He muttered softly.

Madeleine's lips formed a soft smile as she put an arm around her eldest son and pulled him closer. She was no longer angry at Ian.

"Shh... it's okay, sweetie.  I know you didn't mean it." 

"Are we going to talk to a detective, mom? I-I still remember his face, okay. I—I ran into him in the toilet. H-he—told Jansen and I to run but I didn't know why." 

His voice was threatening to break, now that the adrenaline has worn off, but Ian still tried to keep himself steady.

Madeleine nodded with certainty and said, "I'm sure after what happened just then, they would want to talk to you."

"I-I should've—I should've done something! M-maybe dad wouldn't have gotten shot. What if I could've gotten a photo of him?" 

Madeleine pulled him closer and ran a hand gently through the boy's hair, hushing him quietly. "Shh, there was nothing you could have done, sweetheart... All that matters now is that we're all safe. I'm sure dad will be okay." 

Although he was also upset and shaken, Jansen decided to help the situation by giving a few gentle—albeit—awkward pats on his brother's back.

Ian made a promise to himself that he would do his best to get stronger, and smarter, so that in the future, he would be able to protect his family better.

ㅤㅤ

John

How does someone keep a straight face while being faced with shits like this? John couldn't even help but glance to the source of the commotion, the boy from before was frantically cursing and muttering inaudible accusations towards him that made some of the police turn their head.

Even as the woman from before practically tried to drag him in the same manner as dog owners trying to tame their barking dogs, the anger in his eyes was stark clear.

But perhaps it wasn't just anger. Perhaps it was also confusion, hatred... determination? 

The Revelator flicked his eyes back to the incoming threats. There's no way he could take every one of them in a single hit. He's no super soldier nor a trained agent, he's just a teenager who thinks that following his father's steps is a good thing to do.

He should've just studied for the college entrance exam. 

A scowl formed on John's forehead, but if someone dared take a peek beneath his mask, they will notice that it was purely caused by fear and frustration rather than anger and blood-thirsty resolution. 

The only thing he could do to wipe out an entire troop is probably by throwing grenades all over them, which obviously going to result in a lot of casualties, but what's the point of doing everything if in the end he'll have to get tossed to jail? 

John gritted his teeth. With a swift motion, he pulls the hem of his hoodie to reveal the strapped explosives across his chest. The cops scramble away, and as anticlimactic as it sounds, all he did was reach out to the M203PI launcher he had clutched to so dearly before. It sounded like a power play, it felt like he was playing god—but that was what his old man used to do. 

Humans tend to make mistakes, they crash so easily and they slip and tumble by their own feet, and so did his old man. 

That day when he watches as John Monsoon bleeds to death, Isaiah thought that it would be the last of him. Yet he runs, as cowardly as it sounds, he runs after the previous Revelator had aimed a gun to his head and told him to go. 

Never did he think that he would end up doing the same path as him. The semi-stable kid who doesn't even know his own birth date, the one who used to look like he wouldn't dare to hurt a single fly, now he's launching grenades with his trembling hands. Cold gray eyes piercing without mercy as he burns everything in sight. 

This isn't right, he knows that. He wanted to live this legacy with the same notable notion that would make people believe in him. He wanted to become the karma for those who weren't able to stand up.

But now that he thinks again, Isaiah realizes that all he tries to do was to fill the empty spot within his heart with hatred and revenge. 

He made a promise that day. Whatever happens in the future, he would protect those he loves. Even if it means he had to fist fight with God himself. 

And if he fails, he's going to burn the world down.

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Jurassic

I really love your fics so I was wondering if you'll pleaseee write a clexa jurassic park au Tks

���Most meat eaters walked on two feet. This made them faster and left their hands free to grab their prey,” the professor explained, clicking the pointer so that the page changed. “Most plant eaters walked on four feet to better carry their heavy bodies. Some plant eaters could balance on two feet for a short time.”

“What about T-Rex?”

“What about them?”

“When do they show up and did they hunt humans?”

“Here we have the first instance of failure to read the material,” she shook her head and walked in front of the lecture hall.

Almost two hundred students watched her as she cross her arms and smiled as she shook her head. This was her favorite misconception, and her favorite way to tease an entire group of freshmen. The professor leaned against the desk at the front of the room, with a giant projector screen displaying a large graph behind her. She felt powerful like that.

“Millions of years separate the faintest inkling of humans and dinosaurs. We probably wouldn’t be sitting here today if we coexisted during the same time period. Not even because of the sheer amount of predators,” she explained before clicking through a few slides until she came to the graph she wanted. “There is a little gap in the estimates, but the Earth had about fifteen to thirty percent less oxygen than it does now. That means about five times the amount of Carbon Dioxide existed, which is thought to have contributed to the fact that everything was so damn big back then. Yes?”

“Could dinosaurs exist now?”

“No.”

From the back of the lecture hall, a gentleman smiled and watched the professor push herself up from leaning and begin to walk around, emphatically explaining with her hands so that every set of eyes was trained on her, riveted by her passion and explanations.

As the professor moves around the class, he melts into the crowd, unnoticed in the sea of eyes, but still, they are just like the kids around him, glued to the woman who is so excited, she has to push her glasses up on her nose from time to time as she explains, who has to shove her hands in her back pockets to keep them from gesturing to explain magnitude and such.

“That wraps up week seven,” the professor offered as the familiar shuffling that indicated the end of the allotted hour told her. “Remember, next week we will be tackling differentiation and specialization! If you close your eyes and sniff the air you can smell it. Tests are coming. Start preparing.”

Melting into the crowd, he pulls the phone out of his pocket and makes a phone call as the sea of students rush past him.

“She’s the one.”

Hot as all hell, the day hung there, dirty and thick and angry at nothing in particular. The tropical afternoon made it impossible to breathe, while the sun itself pulled every ounce of sweat it could from bodies as sacrifice for existing. It was a warped version of the angels share if she ever heard it.

From her spot against the fence, Clarke ran her forearm over her eyes and pushed the sticky ends of hair from where they stuck, though nothing truly helped.

She was familiar with heat and sweat.

Her eyes never stopped moving, following a herd moving through the upper wall of the far valley before a truck pulled up and stole her attention.

“Dinner is served,” Raven called happily as she hopped out and slammed the door. Some animal squealed and complained in the crate in the bed.

“That’s my line,” Jasper complained as he parked.

“You’re late.”

“We had a little problem with the new pens over in quadrant Charlie,” the driver gave a pointed look to the girl in the brace.

“That’s what you want to hear when you’re surrounded by creatures that are literally faster and bigger and sharper than anything else on the planet.”

“Listen, I fixed it. There was an over--” Raven tried to defend herself.

“Please don’t do the engineer stuff again,” Clarke sighed as she grunted and opened the truck lift.

“I need to take a look at the wiring for the converter panel over here. Thought I’d catch the show first.”

“It’s not a show.”

“Sure it’s not,” Raven teased, earning a smile. “Release the pig.”

“She’s not a toy. She’s a dinosaur. I can’t make her put on a show, no matter what Jaha thinks I’m capable of.”

“You got the raptors to behave.”

“I got a pack of starving animals to believe that I was the only reason they could eat. I’m a long way off of--”

“Okay, none of that boring animal junk. Can you make them ride tricycles yet?” Raven interrupted, leaning against the truck as the other two carried the giant crate with the help of the keepers at the paddock.

“Did you fix the island’s surge problem yet?”

“I have a feeling you’re closer to the tricycles than I am,” Raven acknowledged before heaving herself up the first few steps toward the observation deck.

From atop the stand, the three stood there and watched, waiting for the beast to show.

“I haven’t seen her since the last trainer...” Jasper began before trailing off when he looked at Clarke. “Who really wasn’t as good as you, and had it coming, I guess.”

“Total asshat,” Raven agreed.

The trainer shook her head and crossed her arms, leaning back and waiting for the inevitable. The other two leaned a little closer until everything stilled. The ground shook. The trees parted and trembled. The pig squealed and fought to climb a wall it hand no chance of making a foot up.

And then nothing.

A few heartbeats went by, and everything tentatively resumed itself, the world kept turning, the sky kept sitting there, the clouds yawned.

The growl was quiet, subtle, melting into the world of the island. Clarke heard it though as she scanned the tree line. A few seconds later, it burst forth, teeth glistening and legs churning with all its might before eight inch teeth serrated dinner and swallowed it in two gulps.

“Holy fuck,” Raven and Jasper breathed in unison, unable to blink or take their eyes from the dinosaur below.

It let out a long roar, that shook the world and echoed from the stars, that brought quiet to the island for a long moment, as if everyone knew this was different.

“Yup,” Clarke chuckled as she made her way down the steps. “Buy me a drink at the canteen. I’m thirsty as hell.”

For a full minute, Lexa stared at the stranger who now sat on the other side of the desk at her office. If she had been the type to be amused at such jokes, she was certain she would have laughed for the entirety of the pause that settled itself in the room quite comfortably. Instead she settled for quiet and a disbelieving stare that turned into an incredulous lean back in her chair, oddly disappointed the the meeting about potential funding to continue her dig in China was a ruse for a madman’s stupid prank.

“I do need you to say something, Dr. Woods. I have a few other appointments before I head back...”

“To your island,” she supplied, slightly amused.

“Yes. I leave in the morning.”

“To go back to your island of dinosaurs.”

“Correct.”

“An island that has genetically modified, brought back from extinction after millions and millions of years, dinosaurs, that used science which I can only imagine is still light years away from being stable or even... real.... that Island?”

“Yes,” Thelonious Jaha nodded with a warm smile, watching as the scientist leaned forward once again and tried to form more words to express her disbelief.

“You have to go back to the island with... what? Triceratops? and let me guess, you have... What? Ornithopoda? Just... running around?”

“We do have a nice little collection of those. Quite gentle creatures. My favorite though,” he explained, crossing his leg and folding his hands over his lap, “I think are the Apatosaurus. Did you know that they fight like giraffe’s often?”

“Often,” Lexa barked a laugh and caught herself before sitting up a bit straighter and blanking her face from the outburst. She pushed up her glasses and took a deep breath before a giggle escaped once again. “Often this happens. That Apatosaurus fight. Like giraffes.”

“Dr. Woods, I came to you with a serious business proposition, one that I think is more than fair--”

“You want to visit your fantasy island that is populated by dinosaurs brought back from extinction by DNA collecting and replicating methods which are... impossible at best... to study and monitor your collection... or real, live dinosaurs. Is that a good summation, Mr. Wells?”

“Fairly fair, I should say,” he agreed, smiling at her kindly.

“Mr. Wells, the wealthiest man in the world, spent his money making dinosaurs,” Lexa shook her head and whistled. “Well, I wouldn’t have guessed that one. But if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Wells. I have a class at three thirty I should prepar--”

While she spoke, she watched him reach toward his briefcase, which she assumed meant he was ready to depart after she rudely berated his craziness. Instead, a stack of pictures slid across the expanse of her desk.

“Those are not doctored in the slightest, Dr. Woods,” he explained as the paleontologist surveyed the array without picking one up, leaning closer than she would have liked to pretend. “I approached you because you are the best in your field, the most well-respected and honored scientist in the study of evolution and especially paleontology, and many of your theories have not only proven true, but also helpful in the development of behavior models of our subjects.”

As Lexa picked up a picture finally, her guest stood and watched her squint, trying to find the falsehood.

“My terms are simple. Just come see the park, Dr. Woods, and the money will be made available in a grant the second you step back off of the plane in this city.”

A plane ticket made its way to the desk beside the images. All the doctor could do was stare back at the man who placed it there before her eyes were drawn back to the image in her hand. It was impossible. There was no way.

“If you have any questions, my business card is here,” he smiled and pulled it from his jacket pocket. “I hope to see you soon, Dr. Woods. We could really use your expertise.”

Still stunned and unsure what to say, Lexa heard him leave as she leaned back in her chair and swiveled away from her door, holding what looked the picture of a pterodactyl soaring. She shook her head to get the inkling of belief from taking root before she picked up the business card.

From behind her sunglasses, Clarke watched the small prop plane land and turn around at the end of the small runway. The metal of the jeep was hot against her hip, but still, she leaned there and waited for the professor who was coming to tell her how to do her job, as if training or working with animals could be taught in a classroom, as if it could be taught by a bone hunter who wrote articles and--

“Holy shit,” she whispered to herself as the door finally opened and the dorky, middle-aged professor with a paunch belly and affinity for wearing tweed and smoking pipes turned out to be a ridiculous beautiful, legs-straight-from-Olympus, short-shorts wearing, siren of a there’s-no-way-she’s-a-doctor, doctor.

It took a moment, but the trainer swallowed quickly and crossed her arms, not letting the momentary distraction keep her away from indignation too long.

“So that’s the person that’s going to tell you what to do,” Raven observed as she leaned over the top railing of the Jeep.

Clarke pursed her lip and crossed her arms tighter around herself.

“She’s here to study and offer feedback.”

“Looks like just your type.”

“I don’t have a type.”

“You do,” her friend chuckled. “Too good for you and unattainable.”

Before she could argue the point, the newest arrival shouldered her bag and made her way from the tarmac. The closer she got, the more Clarke was vividly aware of how right the engineer was, and how much it bothered her.

The tan of her legs, the way her sleeves were rolled up, the old baseball hat that betrayed hair that lingered somewhere between chestnut and auburn, that curled up near her ears in the heat. Clarke was taken with her jaw and her collarbones, though she would never admit it.

“Hello,” the professor smiled awkwardly.

“Dr. Woods, this is Clarke Griffin, our trainer--

“Handler,” Clarke corrected.

“Of the dinosaurs,” Lexa took the hand offered to her and shook it before pulling off her sunglasses and tucking them into her shirt. “Because there are dinosaurs here.”

Her eyes made Clarke gulp, her words made her smile.

“Yes ma’am. I handle the dinosaurs.”

With a polite shake of her hand, Lexa shook her head and sighed as it dropped, still almost amused at the situation.

“If there are dinosaurs, I can’t imagine they handle well.”

“All animals handle well enough if you listen to them.”

“These would be multi-ton creatures that have millions of years of evolution and survival skills--”

“Two minutes on the island, and you’re calling my job a bunch of useless garbage,” Clarke inhaled deeply and nodded to herself. “You could at least wait to tell me how to do my job until after you see me in action, Professor.”

“I’m... I didn’t. I’m not here to tell you how to do your job.”

“Good.”

“I think we got off on the wrong foot--”

“I think it’s just fine. You’ll be gone in a few days and that’s fine enough,” Clarke opened the back door and motioned for her to get in.

Still distracted by the blonde and the lips and the words that came out of them, Lexa furrowed before slowly crawling in the back seat of the Jeep. She put her sunglasses back on and fanned herself through her shirt.

“Hi. I’m Raven. Head Engineer, persistent tag-along,” the girl in the passenger seat turned around and held out her hand. “You met our resident surly handler.”

“Lexa.”

With a smile that grew larger as she took in the newcomer, Lexa watched Raven turn around and say something to Clarke that was eclipsed with the roar of the engine back to life. Raven’s laugh was silent though her head tilted back as if she were enjoying herself.

Lexa leaned back in the seat as they began to rumble along through half a road into the jungle. All she could wonder was why and how she ended up here.

The jungle was thick and lush, sprouting up on both sides, blotting out the sun so that it came down in little shots of pure gold through the canopy. Lexa jumbled in the back over the uneven path that was barely a road to start with and more of a trail that was confiscated by the trees every chance it got.

When they emerged, Lexa wasn’t ready. The sunlight blinded her for a moment before it all registered and she saw them.

From the driver’s seat, Clarke looked at the professor in the rearview mirror, the astonishment catching again. She exchanged a look with Raven who shook her head, but that didn’t stop her.

Lexa didn’t notice they weren’t moving. She noticed the articulation of the spine of the stegosaurus. She noticed the sheer size of the apatosaurus. In a flash, she peeled off the sunglasses and leaned closer over the edge of the vehicle, gripping it tightly before murmuring to herself that it was impossible. As far as the view stretched, as far as the eye could see, nothing but life existed, pure, primeval live.

“Well, what do you think?”

“That’s... Those are...” Lexa shook her head. In a second, Lexa dug in her bag and slipped on a pair of large, round glasses.

“You didn’t think that it was real?”

“How can it be real?”

“Magic,” Clarke grinned, amused at herself.

“Those are... those are... Those are...”

“Yeah.”

“A doctor,” Raven rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t even know what those are.”

“Can we...? What? How?”

“Mr. Wells is going to meet us at the main property,” Clarke said before starting the engine once again.

“Can’t we stay with them?”

The amazement was infectious, and Clarke couldn’t remember losing it, though she did in the grime of her day-to-day life. Raven was right. She had a type, which apparently included hot professors with big glasses and old baseball hats and legs that were godly.

“You’ll have plenty of time,” Clarke promised.

Lexa didn’t hear anything. She stared, wide-eyed and blown away by the giants that walked along the valley floor. She was certain her heart didn’t beat at all the entire trip.

The science, the show, the behind the scenes parts, Lexa was absolutely intrigued by, swallowed up in it the moment the handler and the engineer dropped her off at the main entrance.

Before she knew it, the day was over and her notebook was filled with notes and questions and ideas and observations, and she hadn’t even made it back out to the park that blew her mind.

“Finally escaping the lab, professor?” a familiar voice greeted her as Lexa attempted to make her way toward her room to try to type up her notes and see what else she wanted to look into in the morning. She had stacks of reading the doctors lent her so that she could be up to date on their findings. It was highly classified and she had to sign a million contracts just to read them, but she looked forward to it.

“I think I could live in there,” she confessed, head still twirling slightly.

“Where are you heading?” Raven asked, walking alongside the doctor, dragging her leg gently, appreciative that she slowed slightly.

“Just back to my room. I’m supposed to have dinner with some of the scientists in an hour to go--”

“You don’t want to do that.”

“I don’t?”

“Come slum it with the hired hands. I promise it’ll be way better.”

“I’m not sure your friend likes me very much,” Lexa remembered, adjusting her bag on her shoulder and pushing up her glasses. “And you’re not exactly a hired hand.”

“We all are in our own ways for Jaha. Trust me. Even you are. You just don’t know it yet.”

All she wanted was to shower and go back to her room, and yet Lexa decided that detoxing from the science, from the pounding feeling in her head that came from the impossible existing, it was too much.

“Plus, Clarke doesn’t warm up often to people. You can’t take it personally. She’s an animal person.”

“I don’t know that I’d consider these animals.”

“You have a lot to learn, doc.”

The little cantina was a slice of actual life in the middle of what felt like the Twilight Zone. Perched on the far side of the main compound, behind the employee’s only fence, leaning against what was left of an almost drained lake, the little open, sided hut was the nightly gathering place for everyone. Clarke enjoyed it as much as she could, though it made her feel as if she was missing out on actual life, far away, away from the tiny dome of the island.

The sun hung around, lazy and disinterested in leaving the day to give into the night. The big, fluffy clouds caught on fire and became embers, while the people below sipped drinks and ate from the communal buffet.

The addition of a stranger had everyone awake and buzzing. The little staff were all experts, all knowledgeable, all adventurous and running from things, and yet as tough as they strived to be, any kind of newness, of new person, made them yearn for the real world.

Clarke avoided it as much as possible. Something about a new person reminded her what she was running from, why she escaped from real life and wound up in this zoo.

She knew what Raven was doing, and Clarke wanted nothing to do with it.

The back porch looked out onto the field that led into the trees. From atop the slope she sat and drank the beer and let it cool her down, a near impossible feat in the weather.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” a voice behind her offered. “After meeting with Jaha, I understand why.”

Clarke didn’t move, didn’t say anything. She just took another drink and listened to the noises of the world beyond the tree line.

“I don’t want to tell you how to do your job. I came to study behaviors, not to... to... train them. I told him that’s impossible, and he said you said the same thing.”

Wringing her fingers, Lexa ran her hand up her neck and tried to think of what else to say, hoping not to do anything else to piss off the person she’d be working with for the next week.

“Anyway. That’s all I wanted to say.”

“Would you like a drink, Dr. Woods?” Clarke offered without turning around.

Somewhat relieved, the professor smiled to herself before grabbing the bottle offered and taking the seat beside the lounging handler.

“Lexa. You can call me Lexa.”

“You survived your first day. That’s impressive.”

“I don’t know how you do it every day. How long has it been?”

“About sixteen months.”

“Goodness.”

Both drank and stared at the sunset while the jukebox played something behind them. Clarke sighed and relaxed further while Lexa leaned forward and listened beneath the noise to what was happening out there.

“The Diplocodus sing at night,” Clarke offered.

“Like whales.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

From across the cantina Raven watched the two sitting on the back porch and congratulated herself on a job well done. It was no surge-proofed server system, but it was something.

For two days, Lexa soaks up everything that she can. She can’t imagine her eyes being any wider at every glance and nook and cranny. The entirety of the island is mesmerizing. For nearly four hours just one day, she spends sitting in a Jeep on the edge of a field observing. She filled up three notebooks in the short amount of time.

As much time as she spends observing, a certain handler spends just as much observing the professor. It isn’t on purpose, just always seems to work out that way. Something about the nerdy, quiet, passionate, smart, funny, kind... and the list raged on as Clarke tried to make an excuse for her gazing. Something about her just distracted Clarke at inconvenient moments, had her spilling words out of her mouth, even when she thought she was being quiet.

“Are you busy, Professor?” Clarke realized she was asking as she stumbled upon Lexa at the cage for check ups.

She’d meant to walk by, to leave her with possibly just a wave, while she assisted the vet with some notes. Of course, Clarke was suddenly a mess, and very much angry at her best friend for planting seeds that actually took in the arid desert that was her mind.

“Depends on what you may have for me today,” Lexa smiled in that way that felt like dew on ankles at dawn.

“I don’t think you’ve gotten a proper introduction to what I do.”

“Do I finally get to go into the employees only section that’s hidden behind those high walls and heavy doors?”

“No, but I promise you’ll have a better time than examining with Dr. Lame.”

“Dr. Lima is going to give me my first contact with dinosaurs.”

Clarke smiled to herself and flicked the keys in her hand.

“Trust me,” Clarke offered. “I rarely disappoint.”

The ride to the southern side of the island was bumpy and even worse than the one from the airport, but Lexa held on and for some unknown reason, trusted the handler. She regretted her decision precisely six minutes into the trip as she was nearly bounced out of her seat, earning just a grin from the driver who shrugged and adjusted her sunglasses.

Far in the horizon, clouds emerged from the horizon, angry and black, contrasting perfectly with the bright white-blue of the clear sky. Lexa shielded her eyes as they hopped along and recognized the storm coming in the way the breeze shifted and then calmed to almost nothing.

“How far are we?”

“Can’t you enjoy the ride?”

“Has anyone?” she retorted. “There’s a storm coming.”

“It hasn’t hit the first set of islands yet. We won’t see that for another hour or two,” Clarke promised as the Jeep slowed and stopped.

“Now you’re a meteorologist?”

“I’d like you a lot better if you were nicer to me,” the handler grumbled, pulling herself up by the crossbar and sliding out of the rover. Before Lexa could muster a reply, the blonde shouldered her bag and walked around, towards the front.

Half tripping and half afraid of being left, Lexa scrambled out after Clarke.

“I’m plenty nice to you,” she argued, pushing up her glasses as the tall grass tickled her bare legs. “You’re the one that’s rude to me.”

“I brought you out here, didn’t I?”

Lexa almost slammed into Clarke’s back, she stopped so quickly. Humming to herself, she met the challenging blue eyes and a smirk and swallowed deeply, blaming the humidity most of all.

“Yes, but you’re very surly, did you know that?”

“Surly.”

“Surly.”

“I don’t mean to be, it’s just... people talk a lot, don’t they?” Clarke asked, almost too honest and real, such a flip that it caught Lexa slightly off balance. “I don’t like wasted words.”

All she could do was follow down the faintest semblance of a trail. She wanted to ask more, but she felt like they were all wasteful kinds of words, no matter how she flipped them around and examined their surfaces in her head.

“We don’t breed, we reproduce,” Clarke explained as she came to a stop finally, digging through her bag. “Which makes herd dynamics easier.” She let out a low whistle.

For a moment, nothing happened.

The trees jostled, the shrubs moved, the earth shook slightly. With a squeal, a blur emerged and rammed into Clarke’s side, knocking her over in a fit of actual laughter. All Lexa could do was watch as the baby stood atop her and nudged her with a dull snout, rooting under her arm.

The trees moaned and came down to their side a few seconds later as a full grown triceratops came forward, timid and waiting at the edge. Lexa took a step back, eyes wide. She’d been close to the specimens before, but behind the glass back at the lab, in the paddocks used for observation.

“Okay, okay, enough,” the handler shoved at the teenage rhino sized creature that hovered over her. “Easy there buddy. You’re getting bigger and stronger.”

“That’s a...” Lexa trailed off slightly before she felt a giant breath on her shoulder and wet, sloppy lips on her shoulder. A horn met her eyes when she turned toward the adult.

“Yeah. It is,” Clarke chuckled.

Gone was the tightness of her shoulders, the defensiveness of her face. Clarke was a new person, full of life and joy. She righted herself despite the insistence of the animal that nudged her hips and ribs.

“Looks like Doreen likes you.”

“Doreen?” Lexa swallowed and met the large, doleful eyes of the thing that nipped at her shoulder, covering her in slobber.

“I like giving them old lady names. They remind me of old ladies. Nice and gentle, would give you hard candies,” Clarke grunted as she pushed back against the newly forming horns on the baby as it lifted her. “But get them mad, and they’ll take you to town with a wrath of many years lived.”

“Can I...”

“She doesn’t bite.”

“Just slobbers.”

“I thought they’d be a good way to properly introduce you to the real thing. This is what I do,” Clarke laughed as she got pushed again by the antsy little critter who came up to almost her shoulders. “They’re real and alive, and have personalities. You hypothesize on what makes them do what they do.”

She ran her hand along the plate of the dinosaur’s shell, feeling the unique texture, smiling to herself as she did.

“Who is that?” Lexa asked, nudging her chin at the thing still nudging Clarke.

“CJ.”

“CJ. Not a very good old lady name.”

“Clarke Junior,” she explained, blushing slightly at the admission. “I never thought I’d have to explain that to anyone.”

“She definitely has your legs.”

“I think she takes after my personality.”

A slobbery nose dug into Clarke’s bag, and Lexa grinned at the display.

It took impending clashes of thunder for Clarke to convince the good professor to retreat back to the main part of the park. It took a promise of taking her to see the herds on the southside of the river to get her to not mope.

The entire ride back, Lexa raved, and asked a million questions, her eagerness overpowering her fear of the weather and her worry about the ethics and implications of what seeing an actual dinosaur in real life, would mean. Clarke just smiled and answered what she could, amused at the way in which this girl was absolutely in love with the science of it.

As the rain started to fall, they dashed into the cantina and still, Lexa couldn’t stop talking, couldn’t stop gushing. Clarke realized it was maybe the best thing she’d ever done, to get a girl like that so excited and alive. She didn’t know how, but she liked it.

Gradually, the evening grew later, the rain came hard, the water coming down in buckets and the lightning flashing. Everyone emptied out as the lights flickered. Clarke was exhausted, but in no way eager to miss a second of Lexa, and she hated Raven for it.

“So we’ve made it clear that you love this, but you never told me why you study bones,” Clarke finally ventured, balancing the beer bottle on her knee as she leaned against the wall in their little nook.

“You never told me why you’re a handler,” Lexa countered, pushing up her glasses before tilting her head back for a long swig.

It was the drink and the hour, but Clarke let her eyes linger too long on the slope of her neck and shoulders.

“You first.”

“Fine,” the professor finally sighed with a grin. “I just like that for something so old, we don’t know anything about it. All of the information is there, we just have to find it. It’s a giant game. And I like hunting for them.”

“It was the cool hats and the digging, right?”

“And the computer models. That’s what really sold me.”

“I’m serious.”

“I went to the museum when I was a kid. My dad didn’t hang around much, but I did skip school and he took me to the museum, and we learned about dinosaurs. After that, he always sent me something about dinosaurs when he could. I don’t know where he went,” she shrugged. “Just stopped coming around, but I don’t know. The dinosaurs stuck.”

“See? That’s a much more human answer.”

“I’m human.”

“You use the scientific name for things and speak in numbers. You’re far from human,” Clarke chuckled and earned a look. She earned a blush and leaned across the table slightly, propping her cheek up and really looking at her.

“Tell me your deep, dirty secrets then,” Lexa finally managed.

“I’m boring. Good mom, good dad. I just always liked animals, and I didn’t like school. I did odd jobs. Horse trainer when I got out of high school. Dog and obedience classes. I joined the circus for a bit.”

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah, a little,” she grinned.

“I went to school to be a large animal vet, and I worked at a zoo for a long while. And then I just… My dad got sick, and I got an offer from Jaha that I jumped at to get away from home.”

“That sounds more like it.”

“Have you ever held your hand up to a tiger’s paw?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“I never thought anything would beat that feeling,” Clarke explained. “And then I came here.”

“But this place… it can’t… it can’t sustain this. The animals…”

“It’s not as perfect as they make it seem,” she agreed. “We had a bacterial outbreak that killed off a few dozen, and the raptors are showing signs of--”

“Raptors?”

That had been missing from the tour. Clarke gulped when she realized the words that came out of her mouth. Frantically, she searched her brain for a way to back track it, though none presented itself rightly.

“Um.”

“You’ve bred predators?!” Lexa yelled.

Clarke didn’t like that very much. She did, actually. She liked how angry she looked because her jaw was tight and her eyes were fire. But she hated it.

“I didn’t do anything. I just help try to keep them all alive.”

“There’s no way this place is safe.”

“We have high walls, lined with electric charges, and the predators are kept separate.”

“I can’t believe this,” Lexa stood and grabbed her bag, ready to march out.

Quickly, Clarke grabbed her arm and tugged her back.

“Where are you going?”

“To shut this down.”

“Believe me, it’s too late for that.”

The storm roared outside, and Clarke stood there, holding Lexa’s arm until she yanked it away. Slightly wounded, she just waited for the inevitable lashing that she was almost growing to expect from the professor.

Instead, she was met with quiet.

“You can’t be okay with it,” Lexa shook her head.

“I’m not, but I was too far in before I found out. Now I have all of those animals, like you met today, and I can’t just trust anyone else--”

“No, I get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Lexa asked, cocking her head slightly. Once more, in that place, in this room, around that girl, she felt overwhelmed.

“I don’t know. It just felt right.”

Once more, she shook her head and was met with a kind of grin that made her forget about giant carnivores who could eat her in one bite. Until she remembered.

“I should, um,” Lexa pulled away slightly, unsure how she got to be standing so close to an animal handler in the middle of an island in a jungle inhabited by extinct creatures. “I should go to bed.”

“Yeah, um, me too,” Clarke agreed, clearing her throat. “Tomorrow? See you early for the trip out to the river?”

“Yeah.”

With coy eyes, Lexa darted away as fast as her feet could take her without looking like she was running. Clarke stood on the porch and scratched her neck as she watched her look back and hurriedly look away.

And she hated Raven once again.

NEXT

[ligbi]

Animorphs Liveblog #1

I borrowed Animorphs from some friends and liveblogged my thoughts for them. I thought some tumblr folks may enjoy them as well. Animorph content warning for fucked up shit. For kids!

The Invasion 1996 Jake is a Lizard, and this weird CG render of him in a shoe is actually pretty damn good for the time. I forgot about the flipbook corners. 

Everything I tell you is a lie, but you have to believe me The Andalites promised they'd rescue us, and knowing what I know I do not believe that a smidge Marco and Jake already already friends, Tobias is a new, awkward guy, Rachel is Jake's tall cool cousin, and Cassie is black and 'mythical' So begins the heteros Tell me more about Jake's brother Tom and how you two have become distant Cool one sentence into each girl and I love them both already. Fuck the patriarchy! But also being a girl in public is scary Ha. Ax murderers.at the construction site. Ax. They're 13 right? Babies but also I call bullshit on towns with walking distance malls Marco was right Jake the idiot Shit wait which one dies how bad will I regret reading this? I get Tobias man. Looking at that sky. Also Cassie just "ufo" Marco is looking to make a buck off a ufo sighting. Okay Jake is a dweeb so says Marco Oh no baby bird you're clearly the best dude curse eager bird men We all just stood there like fools Hey the ship is burned and some of it has been melted! Also blue lights because all technology has glowing blue lights Jake's family has a minivan (oh god these are small children), and Marco wants to be on Letterman. Letterman Oh god right it's '96 you have to Go Somewhere to Call Someone. Wow 96 was I was 5 I just turned 27 Technology Rachel wants to Solve the spaceship and Cassie points out Star Trek is monolinguistic. As with all series, Girls. Blue deer-taur with no real mouth and extra eyes on stalks with scorpion tail. I've been meaning to re-read Wrinkle in Time, but I think when I first read that at like, 10, I pictured those blind creatures like this Please note, I recall fully reading one (1) of these books ever to completion. Rachel turned into a squid in that one Yes Ax does look like he can kill. I assume he does at some point Jake is almost crying upon seeing Ax, who already feels like a friend. Due to time travel and reincarnation, I am scared to find out why this is Yes I Am Dying. Oh aliens. This is not Ax, is it? Whoops Cassie's family are vets. And she's ready to jump into helping Hey whoever you are, just saying, it sounds like you're implying literally every other alien in the universe wants to kill us. Which is fair but Yeerks. Rat sized gray-green slug parasites ...How does this Andalite (right?) know none of them are controlled by a Yeerk right now? Marco is a bit of a pragmatist Oh jeez lingo uh let's see: Yeerks have Bug Fighters, a Blade Ship, Dracon Beams which destroy things to a molecular level, Andalites have a Dome Ship and Z-Space is a thing Expected Yeerk takeover time: A year or less Yikes Hey Jake fuck you get the box Ugh so straight Got the cube and hey look a hologram of their family WOW MEAN Ok so most (all?) Andlaties have a morph power to Alteans! blend in and hide also we acknowledge they are young Cassie and Tobias for best kids right now Two red streaks for Yeerks Bug fighters these are He looks at Tobias and feels weird like a chill. Normally I'd call Gay but predestination/time-travel/something is up ...How do they know how long two Earth hours are? Oh shit Visser Three. And he can Morph that's uh legit concerning? How'd he get that and what horrible things have he done? Has? Have or has? Also, what WILL he do? Third black ship, and what's his alien touched Tobias' head and did/conveyed Something Oh cool construction equipment just pfffff'd out because a giant battleaxe ship with scimitar wings Was this ship designed by the Hork-Bajir, who have blades on their wrists elbows knees and tails, and t-rex feet and falcon-beaked snake heads with three horns. Who are good people but all (?) controlled Taxxons are Big centipedes with lobster claw hands, jello eyes, and a top mouth that's a pointy circle Again, I demand quick satisfaction as to the positive vibes they get from Andalite1 Ah Visser Three is a controller of an Andaltie. Who was that Andalite? Prince Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul is a mouthful So if he takes over enough places, Visser will become One. Who's the current One? Oh cool we're being targeted because we're over-populated compared to other species Humans behind the Visser? Is it ya'll? Please be ya'll I love me time-travel angst Now V3 is a big Monster and we're blowing up ships and I know this is a construction site but where is anyone else? Aw Jake you wanted to help. That's dumb but aw Death count: 1 Are Taxxons the ever-hungry aliens I've heard about? Or do the Yeerks just think it's fun to eat a dead guy? Oh cool those were Human Controllers and Jake seems to know one. I assume it's big bro? Most people are crying and Macro pukes I HEAR THAT FRIENDS Split up? Jinkies Rachel knows bad words. WHAT ARE THE WORDS K.A.APPLEGATE. TELL ME THE FORBIDDEN LANGUAGE (I assume Son of a Bitch from context but shout out to Rachel if it's Fucker) They can kind of speak English? Ghafrash? Hobo man: maybe dead? Probably dead Jake's strongest real memory is of aliens smiling at him. Get it boy-you're a child get nothing please So you're not close with Tobias, but you know he has a cat named Dude. Also: Cat is named Dude I love it BTW Jake, noticing another dude is Glowing? ;) Oh dang so Tobias doesn't know his Dad, Mom just left him around ten, and we're on a coast, with his aunt living on the other because his uncle is on this one How long does it take to morph? This sounds like a concerning amount of time Multiple minutes. Alright. Nightmareish. Side note: semi-crouching warped human with long butt and stubbed feet stage of morphing in the corner here Watching someone morph into a cat is giggle inducing. I will cherish these times won't I Telepathy is a good, easy answer to lots of questions about weird powers and communication Two year old string in a messy room. Boy Ha naked. Also the cat instincts mean ...oh dear this is gonna cause problems Why does Tobias get to decide Jake is the leader also why Jake? Not why like bleh why him but plot-wise something is the pre-meditated choice Homer the dog. You watch The Simpsons boy? Taking the dna puts the animal in a trance and it doesn't hurt to morph Bones feel like they should hurt yeah that sounds right Scrapping sounds are wonderful Right you're not just A Dog you're The Dog you took from Awww you're not a bad dog Jake. And Tobias is a good kid. And damn it I did not want to right about the brother. Cassie has a farm and big brother Tom is in a club called the Sharing He's obviously a Controller, but also "It's just sports" I'm pro-anti-sports but anti-cult clubs UGH WE HAVE TO RECYCLE Jake pls Wildlife rehabilitation. Convenient to touch wild animals also a cow Plus zoo mom so let's all be giraffes Dang kids with their fireworks, taking over humanity and making cops somehow worse Marco is scared and picky and right poor kid Who also has reasons? Tell me more Mom body was never found, Dad can't be around people. Ouch Cassie is not only cool enough to have clothes, but can control the morph enough to play centaur "We want them real bad" jesus yeerk cop, tone it down will ya? Hey you look like your brother- come to our yeerk cult Help endangered species? You mean like *eyebrow waggle* Is Tobias/Rachel a thing? CD game we were going to play on my computer. Wow Hey not-Tom, why would these kids have read anything in a newspaper? Wow this is shamelessly manipulative and creepy and thanks Applegate for teaching kids to be reasonably creeper out by overly forceful and manipulative folks Jake honey Marco is right please stop living in denial Let's remind Tobias, who is already a hawk, about the time limit Feathers made of wax. This boy is going to fly too long in the sun And then he was naked because boys don't care about that too much I guess?  So as long as the DNA isn't bad for any reason, the state of the animal doesn't matter. What about dead animals? Let Tobias be superman. Poor kid Yeerk pools have Kandrona rays, and Yeerks have to go back into a pool every three days. Yeerk home sun particles Protect this child who can't fight for himself but will fight for the world Time to infiltrate I guess? Gotta sneak into this night volleyball game They live near a beach I suspect this is Cali, like all kid lit about young teens unless it's from the UK Can you grab a morph from a friend if they've changed into a whatever? Kids and Adults? Smidge weird Poor actual Tom trying to protect Jake They Would notice a horse wouldn't they? Tobias hun no please don't make excuses I know being human sucks but come on Oh course the Assistant Principal is a big bad Convert or kill. Yeesh Evil cops also Cassie being Black makes vague threats uhhh worse Let Jake be a dog! Ok but just pet all the animals? Lizard yes but deer? Wolf? Buzzards? Wildcat? I just climbed into my locker all cool like playing it chill because everyone climbs into lockers all the time This is a very small lizard The animal brains being way more in control is fucked up Cool so you just almost was stepped on, lost a body part, and have a still semi-alive spider inside your body after having seen an alien be eaten and knowing your brother is alive but controlled and may be sent to kill you. For kids! And of course the brain slug pool is under the school Do ya'll remember that Nick show about the bully who like, was about to die or was cursed, and he was a dog and only one kid could hear him and no one remembered him and he had to do a bunch of good stuff to be human again? Locking children into animal forms is a special kind of 90's torture I think Rachel/Tobias is a hard thing and good because someone needs to love this kid my word I appreciate Marco though. Hey shit head this is a dumb plan but you're my best friend so I'm in or what fucking ever. Asshole I liked Cassie's little speech about Mother Earth Marco named the band. Marco is a good shit, but what does it even mean that Jake's always been a Lizard? Are you calling him cold-blooded? Flaky? A bug eater? No family guest passes for the zoo? I don't know what Bush Gardens are but is this that? Roller Coasters and Monkeys Big Jim the gentle gorilla. Also bless Jake for riling Marco up Let's drive! hits wall Go right says Jake. Marco goes left You had a chance at a rhino Marco has a dark and tanned face Male siberian tiger. I assume if you turn into THAT animal, you can be a boy turning into a girl hyena or a girl becoming a boy turtle right? He's majestic and doesn't seem like he cares about you as long as you don't run Lol ya'll almost died from a tiger? Sure you did Jake's mom is a writer who is opposed to any TV but her own. Dad is a jokester. Is it Jake's mom who dies? I know a mom dies Dad is a doctor Cassie where are you did you get home from the zoo are you okay? Okay Rachel and Tobias are just a thing already ok. Oh cool the cop has Cassie I fear for her We are Controllers. We are here to... Kandrona, Please give us the girl for... evil? Great plan If you're so advanced, why don't you have elevators- me at Akio So large underground city, small pool, cages 10 people per, aliens, construction equipment Can Tobias communicate with Cassie from where they are? Yeahhhh people volunteering to be controlled by evil alien slugs sounds sadly right. And hey, you get to watch TV Poor Tom. And Rachel is ready to fuck shit up. One alien of each two kinds dead, and a human controller flung somewhere to maybe live? Elephant and Tiger time And Marco is a gorilla Later you would think about this moment WHY WHAT'S ABOUT TO HAPPEN TOM'S FREE AND WE'RE SAVING CASSIE RIGHT? Can horses stairs? V3 thinks they're Andalites. Ouch. Also where's Ax? 8 legs and 8 arms with 3 fingered claws, and 8 heads, tall as a tree. Vriska's aliensona Oh good and it shoots fireballs from its mouth Mouths Jesus Marco just twisted a guy in half and his guts spilled out. Alien guy but still Gotta love half morphed elephant ladies with shriveled trunk faces Something happened to the cop, and Cassie won't say what. Hum Tom is captured again. But you all saves One (1) human woman. It's a fucking start kids. And Tobias done fucked up. Wonderful. End Book #1. 

Oh cool now I can finally start listening to Morph Club, an Animorph pocast by some cool kids

[susietrexler]

The Art Behind the Science: Artists of the Field Museum

Most people don’t go to a natural history museum to see art, particularly if there is a world-class art museum just blocks away. Despite my attachment to the humanities, I come from a family of scientists, and I am an equal-opportunity museum goer. I am always game for a trip to the Field Museum. But on a recent visit I found myself looking past the fossils, curious about the art. Who were the artists? What were they trying to show? I’ve rounded up a few, with some of the history that makes them interesting. Read on:

Charles Knight (1874-1953)

Knight’s paintings in the Evolving Planet exhibit initially piqued my interest. Most interesting of all is that his paintings were done primarily in the 1920s-1930s and scientists have learned a lot about dinosaurs since then. For example, his painting Reptiles of the Permian Period depicts what are now known as synapsids (not reptiles). In his piece Swimming Reptiles, Knight depicts an ichthyosaur leaping like a dolphin. This bit of imagination is just that–scientists don’t know if ichthyosaurs could leap! Nevertheless, Knight’s murals have lasting value almost a century later: they make the fossils come to life and spur on our own imagination, making this impossibly distant time easier to visualize.

Charles Corwin (1857-1938)

Corwin was an artist who specialized in museum murals; he worked in New York City but spent a great deal of time in Chicago as an instructor at the Art Institute. Of course I’d be remiss to not include this fun piece of trivia: Charles Corwin’s brother, Cecil Corwin, worked with Frank Lloyd Wright at the very beginning of Wright’s career. You will find two pieces by Charles Corwin at Frank Lloyd Wright’s Home & Studio: a pastel of a wheat field in the living room and a mural of the Arabian Nights (the tale of the Fisherman and the Genie) in the playroom. (The painting with the bird, below, is by Corwin; the painting with the penguins was done by Corwin and Arthur Ruecker.)

Carol Christianson (1954- )

Christianson painted The Rift of the Serengeti Plain in 1992. This huge mural with a actual stone wall in front gives the impression that you’re looking straight from the exhibit out onto an African landscape. It fits perfectly with the Animal Kingdom exhibit, just down the hall from zebras and towering giraffes. Christianson used photos, her imagination, and over a year of painting to complete this eye-catching mural.

What’s Next

The artists of the Field Museum over the years have been many. In the historic dioramas alone, you will also find artwork by Patrick Gulley, Arthur Ruecker, and Julius Moessel. Most of these works are from 1900-1940. Impressively, they are still eye catching and imagination-stirring. But what is next? Look no further than the brand new T. Rex SUE exhibit. Partially transparent screens show an artists rendering of a Late Cretaceous forest, complete with swaying foliage and dinosaurs walking past. Whether it is 1900 or 2018, art proves crucial in creating an interesting and engaging environment. I realized this the moment I walked into the SUE exhibit and saw that two little girls and their father had taken a seat on the floor next to SUE’s 40-foot frame to take in an artist’s rendering of SUE’s world.

Sources and Further Reading:

This is not the first museum I’ve written about! Interested? Check out these:

Looking Beyond the Fish: Shedd Aquarium Illinois

Bremerton’s Floating Museum (an all-time favorite!) Washington

Fire Station Reuse Success: Renton Historical Museum Washington

Hemingway: the House Behind the House Museum Illinois

My Favorite Thing at the Seattle Art Museum Washington

A German Castle in Austin, Texas (the Elizabet Ney Museum) Texas

Read more about Charles Corwin on the National Historic Museum of Los Angeles website.

More about Carol Christianson’s The Rift Valley of the Serengeti Plain can be found in the book A Guide to Chicago’s Murals by Mary Lackritz Gray.

Want to visit or just browse? Head over to the official Field Museum website. Read about the Evolving Planet and T. Rex SUE here.

    from The Art Behind the Science: Artists of the Field Museum

[writin4lyfe]

Here it goes. The firs chapter of my novel

HARRY POTSMOKER AND THE SHITPOSTER’S STONE

CHAPTER ONE

THE 🅱️ OY WHO LIVED

Mr. and Mrs. Dunkey, of numberf our, Pervert Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. Like, no magic or anything. In fact, they were a couple of normies. They don’t even watch anime, go figure. They were the kind of people who had never heard of Rainbow Dash. Mr. Dunkey was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. Drills for the Gurren Lagann. Oh, the irony, little did he know he was working in a literal anime mech. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moussetache. Mrs. Dunkey was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck (she stole her husband’s), which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors, like a privileged giraff. The Dunkeys had a small son called Dunkey Jr. and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere, which shows just how little they actually went outside. All they did was binging series on Netflix.

The Dunkeys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would disc cover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potsmokers. Mrs. Potsmoker was Mrs. Dunkey's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dunkey pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDunkeyish as it was possible to be. As in, they were in a lot of fandoms. But the Dunkeys don’t even know what a fandom is, so this is just the author talking here.

The Dunkeys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potsmokers arrived in the street and did their magical shit. The Dunkeys knew that the Potsmokers had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him, even though he’s the main character. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potsmokers away; they didn't want Dunkey Jr. being overshadowed by the protagonist. When Mr. and Mrs. Dunkey woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. That is, unless you can read the destiny in the clouds, in which case it’s a moot point because there’d probably someone else interfering with it. What did you even think, that you’re the only person who can read the destiny in the clouds? Don’t make me laugh. To begin with, you can’t. I can. Because I am writing this and I can do as I please. Look, there’s Aragorn jogging in a tracksuit, what are you going to do about him, huh. Oh, is that a t-rex on a unicycle? Yeah, that definitely is a motherfucking t-rex wearing a t-shirt while riding a tricycle. Yeah, it’s a tricycle now. And T-Connection can be heard in the background, too.  Don’t like it? Leave. Go read one of those child-adapted books you enjoy so much if you can’t appreciate literature.

Anyway, Mr. Dunkey hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, which is also pointless, because he’s an internet freelancer and he just accepts gigs from Fiverr from home.  Mrs. Dunkey gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dunkey Jr. into his high chair. None of them noticed a fuckhuge eagle flying past the window. Yeah, you know who that is. It’s Great Grey Eagel Ludwig, Harry’s overpowered pet. Turns out, it was carrying a letter with Harry’s acceptance into Hogwarts. Yeah, it’s still Hogwarts, I’m not going to change everything.