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tealin · 4 years

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Cape Crozier: The Winter Journey

As usual, please go to the original blog to see everything formatted properly. I will attempt to put most of this under a cut, here. Forgive me if it fails.

On the morning of 27 June 1911, three men set out from Cape Evans, on the balmy west coast of Ross Island, to cross to the east coast via its southern shore. Wilson, their leader, wanted to acquire some Emperor penguin embryos, and the only known Emperor rookery was just off Cape Crozier. Based on the chicks he had seen in September the last time he was in Antarctica, Wilson estimated that the eggs would be laid in early July, so he timed the trip to meet them at the right stage of development and to coincide with the full moon, to have the best visibility in a world of 24-hour night.

Wilson had discussed this mission with his assistant, Cherry-Garrard, when the latter was applying to join the Expedition. Once in Antarctica, they agreed the obvious choice for a third was Bowers, who had amply proven his energy, enthusiasm, strength, resourcefulness, and resistance to cold.

To reach Cape Crozier at the full moon in early July meant leaving Cape Evans at the new moon, and so shortly after the solstice that most of the day was nearly black, lit only by the stars shining hard in the sky, and occasionally the aurora. The first part of the journey was over very familiar territory, so the greatest difficulty was learning how to camp when one could hardly see anything and it was too cold to take one's mitts off or touch any metal. So far, so surmountable.

The tune changed as soon as they left the sea ice and got onto the permanent ice of the Barrier (or Ross Ice Shelf, as it is now known).

They left the tempering effect of the open ocean behind, and were under the influence of the frigid interior. The air temperature plunged, and worse, for men hauling everything necessary for life on two 9ft sledges, they soon entered a zone of soft snow.

Runners slide over snow by melting the surface with friction – the glide is, in fact, slipping over a thin film of liquid water. At such low temperatures, friction is not sufficient to melt anything, so the grains of snow act more like sand. A hard, wind-polished surface would be like sandpaper, but in the deep soft snow it was like dragging a dead weight through the Sahara, albeit a Sahara where a day of -50°F felt like a warm spell.

They couldn't drag both sledges at once, so they had to take one forward, then retrace their steps and drag the other. For every mile of forward progress, they actually covered three. In the dead calm, they could use a naked candle to follow their outward steps back to fetch the second sledge. Eight hours of dragging seldom got them more than two miles from where they started, and ended with the slow process of pitching camp. After getting the tent up, the day's cook would burn his fingers on freezing tin matchboxes in a quest for a match free of frost, before he could get the Primus stove going. Eventually the travellers would get some hot liquid in them –

Directly we started to drink then the effect was wonderful: it was, said Wilson, like putting a hot-water bottle against your heart. The beats became very rapid and strong and you felt the warmth travelling outwards and downwards. [250]

– and then, after checking their feet for frostbites, it was time to thaw their way into their frozen sleeping bags for a miserable attempt at sleep.

For me it was a very bad night: a succession of shivering fits which I was quite unable to stop, and which took possession of my body for many minutes at a time until I thought my back would break, such was the strain placed upon it. They talk of chattering teeth: but when your body chatters you may call yourself cold. [241] We knew we did sleep, for we heard one another snore, and also we used to have dreams and nightmares; but we had little consciousness of it, and we were now beginning to drop off when we halted on the march. [245]

It was important for every field party to take regular meteorological observations, to contribute to an understanding of the region's weather. At regular intervals through the day, Bowers would take an air temperature reading, and while they were sleeping, a minimum thermometer was placed under the sledge to measure the temperature in a sheltered place. On 6 July, this got down to -75°F; the following afternoon, Bowers' thermometer registered -77.5°F. The day lives in my memory as that on which I found out that records are not worth making. [247-8]

The clear cold of the first part of their journey had given way to a fog, which diffused the little moonlight they got and obscured the terrain until they were practically right on top of it. As they were rounding the heel of Mt Terror this meant crevasses, and not being able to tell where they were until one fell through, which was a nerve-wracking business on top of the sleep deprivation and physical hardship.

The horror of the nineteen days it took us to travel from Cape Evans to Cape Crozier would have to be re-experienced to be appreciated; and any one would be a fool who went again: it is not possible to describe it. The weeks which followed were comparative bliss, not because our conditions were better – they were far worse – but because we were callous. I for one had come to that point of suffering at which I did not really care if only I could die without much pain. They talk of the heroism of the dying – they little know – it would be so easy to die, a dose of morphia, a friendly crevasse, and blissful sleep. The trouble is to go on. . . . [237]

Finally they were on the home stretch, a narrow lane between the rough terrain of the land and the great pressure waves where the Barrier presses up against Ross Island as it flows out to sea. This proved to be nearly impossible to keep to, in the poor light, but after much stumbling, and with a welcome rise in temperature to the mere -20s, they finally reached a moraine just short of the Knoll, within hiking distance of the Emperor colony huddled in the lee of the Barrier face below. They pitched their tent on an icy smooth snow slope 150 yards down from the ridge, and the following day set about building a igloo near the top, using the exposed volcanic stone found there, in a method Cherry had been practising at Cape Evans. July 16th, when they established the hut, was Wilson's wedding anniversary, and in the privacy of his diary at least, he named the igloo Oriana Hut, and the moraine Oriana Ridge, after his wife. The others proposed 'Terra Igloo', 'The House on the Hill,' and 'Bleak House.' In the South Polar Times, after their return, Bowers immortalised it in rhyme as 'The House That Cherry Built.' On official Antarctic maps, though, it's now labelled Wilson's Igloo and the moraine is Igloo Spur.

Our trip to Cape Crozier was a walk in the park – 35 minutes in a helicopter watching the amazing views roll by – and our greatest challenge was finding the landing site, but that was only a question of how close it was to the GPS waymark, rather than whether we could land at all. We were not exempt from the vagaries of Antarctic weather, however. When our flight got the green light, the weather at Cape Crozier was 30% cloud with 7-knot winds. Not your typical Cape Crozier weather, but great weather for helicopters. By the time we arrived, 35 minutes later, it was 70% cloud, a fog was rolling in, and winds were at 30 knots. I was warned our time here might be short. But we set off to see the igloo anyway.

The plan had been to build the body of the igloo in stone, then bank up the walls with gravel and snow to make them weatherproof. Unlike a stereotypical snow-block igloo, it was not a dome, but would be roofed using one of the sledges as a beam, with a canvas sheet spread over it, firmly anchored in the rocks. This has an Arctic precedent: in Francis McClintock's account of his search for the lost Franklin Expedition in the 1850s, he describes meeting an Inuit woman who lived in a stone igloo of very similar construction. Cherry's practice igloo at Cape Evans was an admirable structure, but the plan went awry at Cape Crozier, on account of a lack of gravel and all the snow in the vicinity being blown so hard as to be practically ice [261]. They improvised as best they could, chipping some slabs of ice out of the snowbank and leaning them against the exterior walls, but it was not as cosy a structure as they'd hoped, and they ended up stuffing spare socks into some of the larger gaps in the stones to keep out the wind. This wind, they discovered on their second day of building, was much stronger at the top of the ridge than where they had made camp on the snow. But the stone walls were more secure than the tent – which was left pitched outside the igloo's door for storage – and heralded a new 'Age of Stone' in which they could get on with their science.

It was more than just scientific interest that made a visit to the penguin colony imperative: on their grind to Cape Crozier, they had burned through nearly five of their six cans of oil. As well as the penguin embryos they came for, they needed to burn some blubber to keep warm in their igloo, so that they could use the last tin of oil for the return journey. So as soon as their building progress allowed, they scouted a perilous path down a snow drift over the cliffs and through the horrible pressure to reach the Emperor colony. Instead of the two thousand birds found by the Discovery, there were barely a hundred, and less than half of them apparently had eggs. Nevertheless, Wilson and Bowers secured five eggs and three birds' skins – the blubber comes off with the skin – and they legged it back to their camp while there was still a modicum of light to see by. Cherry broke both of the eggs he was carrying in a fall, but they made it back with the remaining three and the blubber, which got its revenge on Wilson by spluttering into his eye from the stove.

“Things must improve,” said Bill [Wilson] next day, “I think we reached bed-rock last night.” We hadn't, by a long way. [272]

The igloo is at the opposite end of the moraine from the helicopter landing site, or at least where the GPS told us it was. There is nothing between the crest of Igloo Spur and the Transantarctic Mountains, hundreds of miles away, and the 30-knot wind flowed over our minor obstruction just like a river: barely any gusts, just a constant flow, solid as water, up and over the ridge and then out towards the sea. I tried to look out for lichen as I stumbled along, but it was hard to be careful of where I put my feet when I was struggling to keep my balance against the wind. There were patches of a beige crust – was this lichen or was it a mineral deposit? Someone shouted that they had found some – it turned out to be black, and crawled along the ground like dinosaur fern. Once spotted it was obvious, and easier to avoid.

A few good minutes' scramble got us to the igloo. On the way, I saw a small log of petrified wood, shining pale on the chocolate-brown rubble. This seemed very much out of place on a volcanic island, and I wondered briefly how it had got there, before an answer came: obviously it had blown here. A joke, perhaps, but not as much of one as you might think: the further out along the ridge we walked, the stronger the wind seemed to be. At last we reached the remains of Oriana Hut.

I should have been humbled, or at least struck with a sense of awe. But all I could think was: You guys were completely insane.

The day after Wilson, Cherry, and Bowers returned from the raid on the Emperors, there was a small blizzard, and the flapping of the canvas roof on the igloo caused them some concern, so they set about weighing it down with blocks of ice and making extra sure it was securely fastened all around. They pitched the tent right next to the door and put a lot of their gear into it, to make space for themselves in the igloo. Then, with the weather calm and their bellies full, they settled down to catch up on some precious and hitherto scanty sleep.

I do not know what time it was when I woke up. It was calm, with that absolute silence which can be so soothing or so terrible as circumstances dictate. Then there came a sob of wind, and all was still again. Ten minutes and it was blowing as though the world was having a fit of hysterics. The earth was torn in pieces: the indescribable fury and roar of it all cannot be imagined.

“Bill, Bill, the tent has gone,” was the next I remember – from Bowers shouting at us again and again through the door. …. Journey after journey Birdie and I fought our way across the few yards which had separated the tent from the igloo door.

… To get that gear in we fought against solid walls of black snow which flowed past us and tried to hurl us down the slope. Once started nothing could have stopped us. I saw Birdie [Bowers] knocked over once, but he clawed his way back just in time. Having passed everything we could find in to Bill, we got back into the igloo, and started to collect things together, including our very dishevelled minds.[275-6]

Not sure when they would be able to eat again, they cooked a meal, and nervously watched the igloo roof. The problem was not so much that it was in the wind, but that it was just out of it: the wind rushing up the southern slope of the moraine created suction just behind the crest, where the igloo was, and this was pulling the canvas up. The motion of the canvas shifted the ice blocks weighing it down until they were off. Then the incessant sucking up and flapping down started to stretch the material; as it stretched it got more play; as it played more the flapping became more violent. At last the fabric could no longer take the strain and exploded into ribbons, whose frantic lashing in the hurricane sounded like pistol shots.

They hurried into their sleeping bags and rolled over so that the flaps were underneath, and huddled while the storm raged overhead.

I can well believe that neither of my companions gave up hope for an instant. They must have been frightened, but they were never disturbed. As for me I never had any hope at all; and when the roof went I felt that this was the end. [280]

And then … they slept. The blizzard had brought a rise in temperature and the snow drifting over them made a good insulator, so they were more comfortable than they had been for a while, and of course there was nothing else they could do. There was so much to worry about that there was not the least use in worrying: and we were so very tired. [282] Occasionally Bowers would thump Wilson and Wilson would move a bit to prove he was alive. When they were awake they'd sing songs and hymns to pass the time – we sang hymns because they were easier to sing than La Bohême and it was a good thing to sing something.* Quieter moments might be spent cogitating over how to get back without a tent, but the situation looked pretty hopeless. When they were thirsty they would pinch a little drift from just outside their bag and eat it, and so staved off the worst, but without a tent, 52 excruciating miles from the nearest shelter at Hut Point, and months away from spring, it seemed only to be delaying the inevitable.

Thus impiously I set out to die, making up my mind that I was not going to try and keep warm, that it might not take too long, and thinking I would try and get some morphia from the medical case if it got very bad. Yes! comfortable, warm reader. Men do not fear death, they fear the pain of dying. [281]

On top of everything, it was Wilson's 39th birthday.

I suppose the most surprising thing is that there is anything left of the igloo at all. Some of the rocks came down when the roof blew open, but the many, many blizzards since then have worked hard to dismantle the rest. And yet, in the shelter of the walls, protected by the drift that accumulates there, there are still some of the Crozier party's possessions.

Standing here, especially in a 30-knot wind, one cannot but think this is a pretty stupid place to build a shelter. Cherry acknowledges this in his book, but reminds us that they had to build more or less where the rocks were, and the rocks were where the wind kept the snow from accumulating. They had brought a snow knife to cut snow blocks, Inuit-fashion, but there was no such snow to be had; it was all ice. And I had an additional insight, thanks to my midnight hike up Arrival Heights:

The igloo is built just off the crest of the ridge, exactly like where I was standing when I felt no wind on Arrival Heights. They would have been very familiar with that ridgeline and had almost certainly observed the same phenomenon, so if they had to pick a spot on a desolate windswept hill, that was, in the circumstances, one of the better ones to pick. There was a short blizzard their first night back from the Emperors, but aside from the drift blowing through the gaps in the rocks it didn't concern them much; they just had the bad timing to meet a monstrous storm shortly after. I have never heard or felt or seen a wind like this, Cherry wrote, even after having experienced the ferociously windy second winter at Cape Evans, where they feared the hut might blow down, I wondered why it did not carry away the earth. [283] They had anticipated the wind in the construction of the hut, and the pyramid tent had amply proven its ability to stand up to blizzards in its years of Antarctic service; it was the suction that threw them a curve ball. When the roof blew into ribbons, it was still firmly anchored in the walls, and even 108 years later, it's still there.

The storm first hit on Friday, 21 July; by Monday it was beginning to abate enough that they could speak to each other without too much difficulty. They hadn't eaten for two days, but the first thing they did was go look for the tent. When that proved fruitless, they returned and cooked a meal with the tent floorcloth stretched between their heads. The cooker was full of penguin feathers, burnt blubber, and dirt, but the smell of it was better than anything on earth.

When the midday twilight returned, they had another search for the tent. I followed Bill down the slope. We could find nothing. But, as we searched, we heard a shout somewhere below and to the right. They slid down the snow slope and fetched up where Bowers had discovered the tent, which must have closed like an umbrella when sucked off its moorings, and, with so much less surface area, dropped out of the sky only a few hundred yards away. Our lives had been taken away and given back to us.

We were so thankful we said nothing.

If the tent went again we were going with it. We made our way back up the slope with it, carrying it solemnly and reverently, precious as though it were something not quite of the earth. And we dug it in as tent was never dug in before ... [284-5]

I have read Cherry's account of the Winter Journey several times, 'blind' as it were – in my head, Cape Crozier was a chaotic jumble of ice and rock with no shape I could deduce from the writing. Unlike the landmarks of McMurdo Sound, and even the Beardmore to some extent, there were no historical photos of the theatre for this action; a few closeups of the igloo appear at the end of Mark Gatiss' 2007 docudrama, but they give no context in respect to the landscape. This was why it was vitally important I stand there myself. The moment I realised that ambition, I knew it was more valuable than I could ever have pitched in a grant proposal. The tiered foothills of Mt Terror to the east, the back of the Knoll, the strip of blue sea visible from the igloo, the 'porcelain teacup' of the hollow between here and there, and most profoundly, how the igloo hangs off the edge of nowhere on this exposed finger of land. In the midst of a blizzard, with howling drift on all sides as well as above and below, it would be a tiny mote of solidity suspended in the vast blank nothing.

My companions must have been a little confused by my behaviour. I hardly took any photos of the igloo. It was interesting, for sure, but the state it's in now would not help me much, to draw it how it was then. I took a lot of photos of the surroundings, but on two sides it was blowing mist so that didn't take very long. Mostly what I did was sit with my back against a sill of rock near the igloo and just stare and stare and stare. I wanted to memorize everything – not just where things were, but the wind, the silvery gleam on the snow, the feeling of being utterly at the extremity of all things. It's one thing to read Cherry's memories, and boggle at the experience; it's quite another to stand where they were made, and be able to measure your own experience against theirs. Standing there in the light, I could see it dark. Their blizzard would have been blowing twice as hard as the wind that could have knocked me over. Riding behind Cherry's eyes, memory viewed through the lens of grief and nostalgia, his companions fill the frame, so one does not get a proper sense of how extremely tiny they all were in this vast howling nothing. And, of course, they had only themselves to get them home, not a waiting helicopter.

We had another meal, and we wanted it; and as the good hoosh ran down into our feet and hands, and up into our cheeks and ears and brains, we discussed what we would do next. Birdie was all for another go at the Emperor penguins. Dear Birdie, he would never admit that he was beaten – I don't know that he ever really was! … There could really be no common-sense doubt: we had to go back … [285] They packed what they could that night and got what sleep they could in their horrible icy bags. The next morning it looked like it was going to start blizzing again; they loaded the camp onto one of the sledges and stashed in a corner of the igloo what they didn't want or need to take back, along with the other sledge, and set off into a rising wind. After only a mile or so the weather forced them to camp, and Birdie tied a line from the apex of the tent around the outside of his bag where he slept: if the tent went he was going too. [287]

The journey back was still cold, but only hauling one sledge, they made much better time. The men were exhausted, however, and their equipment suffering from their ordeals, so it didn't afford as much comfort or protection as it had on the way out. But they were on their way home, and justifiably confident of getting there.

It was the helicopter that called time on my visit to Cape Crozier. The anemometer had clocked 38 knots at one point and nothing looked likely to improve. In the interest of fuel efficiency, the machine was a nimble fibreglass damselfly, not built to withstand this sort of onslaught, and our pilot was worried for his craft. So my coordinator came and told me it was time to go. The trek back was definitely windier than it had been when we arrived, and it felt longer, too, though that may have been because I had my head down, focusing on my footing, rather than looking at lichen and petrified wood. We piled onto the waiting machine and with no undue delay were back in the air. One last wide loop around Igloo Spur, then we rode the wind seaward, and the igloo on the edge of nowhere vanished in the mist behind.

It is extraordinary how often angels and fools do the same thing in this life, and I have never been able to settle which we were on this journey. [273]

I understand why they did what they did, and made the decisions they made in context, but I have not let go of that impression that they were completely insane. I've done pretty crazy things for an abstract goal, and while sleep-deprived, so on one hand I hesitate to judge. On the other, a tiny unrepresentative sample of the extremity they endured beggars belief that they didn't start the trek home the minute they'd got the eggs, if not a lot sooner. Surely they noticed that it was horrible?

But who is the more foolish here? They threw themselves into the worst Antarctica had to offer in pursuit of knowledge, which could only be acquired this way. They may not have known how bad it was going to be, but they knew it would be pretty bad, and went anyway, because they determined it to be worthwhile.

We, on the other hand, were only there because they had been there.

Correction: I was there because they had been there. The others would not have been there except for me.

So who is the bigger fool?

*All quotes in this post are from The Worst Journey in the World by Apsley Cherry-Garrard, with corresponding page numbers, except this one, which his from his introduction to Edward Wilson of the Antarctic, p.xiv

#the worst journey in the world #cape crozier #winter journey #apsley cherry-garrard #edward adrian wilson #bill wilson #henry robertson bowers #birdie bowers #penguins #adventure #polar exploration #heroic age #exploration #science

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ill-skillsgard · 4 years

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Bred For Blood - Part 17 - The White Flag

Title: Bred For Blood

Warning: 18+ - sex/mature language & themes/gun violence/substance abuse etc. *mentions of blood/injuries/death/weapons/coma/unconsciousness in this part*

Characters: AU Axel Cluney, AU Ivar Lothbrok, AU Valter x OC

Description: A bright, young survivor meets an acid-gun slinging headhunter with a knack for melting faces and connections to a prodigal Utopia embedded in the heart of a deadly forest. Violence and passion incite a battle of fealty while betrayal nips at Zed’s heels.

Note: This one’s for Team Cluney. I really hope you guys enjoy reading! This part was very exciting for me to write for many reasons. Please reblog/like/comment if you like my work and want to give me a virtual pat on the head. I would really appreciate it, please and thank you!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

The doctor stomped over the rocky terrain, muttering and snickering to himself as the sun cast blistering rays on their backs. The heat never bothered him, only tanned his skin to a deep brown shine. It was the walking that made his knees burn. He'd long since shed his white coat to cover the bulk of the man draped over Rudie's wiry-haired hump, trudging along at leisure. The unconscious hunter he'd found needed all the protection available from the vicious star reaching its highest point in the sky.

The doctor halted his gangly steed every hour to force a measure of water down the burnt man's ululating throat. He often succeeded, and the hunter swallowed without issue, but sometimes, the water came back up as white foam, trickling down the sides of his face and down his neck. The onset of heatstroke turned his skin apple-red, and the doctor sprayed him down with water and gusts of hot air produced by a tattered paper fan he carried with him to ward off flies. Rudie attracted the pests who made a chariot out of the man on the camel's back. They fled their caravan whenever the doctor stopped to check on his patient and settled back in for the ride after he threw the stained coat back over the hunter's burnt shoulders. This went on until nightfall when the dry land showed signs of mercy, and water and shale gave way to the soil.

Rudie let out a guttural complaint when they reached a crop of tall, spindly trees. The diamond-shaped leaves provided shade. The doctor tethered the bleating animal, pressing his finger to his lips for a silence that would not come. Upon unsaddling the groaning man, Rudie threw his hump and sent Axel slumping to the ground, his deadweight at odds with a lengthy fall. His head cracked on a root, and a dusting of earth dried his palette, clinging to everything pink in his mouth. The camel clopped away from the whining mass who'd hitched a ride on his back, and in his wobbling dance, mashed the smallest of Axel's fingers into the soil.

"Rudie! You bumbling old idiot! You gaffer! Shoo!"

The beast side-stepped, snorting and sputtering, indifferent to the further damage done to the man. He shook his proud head, throwing ropes of spit that webbed his lashes. The doctor punished the creature by re-wrapping Axel's hand after a stern disinfecting, withholding the proverbial oats until the animal wandered away to dine on low-hanging leaves. Rudie chuffed whenever the doctor came to retrieve supplies from the riding satchel.

"That wasn't very nice, Rude. This man is our patient! We don't trample the patients. You've no idea the level of harm you caused! He'll be lucky if we don't have to amputate, and you don't have thumbs, so you're even more useless!"

Rudie wrapped his leathery lips around a clutch of grass and ripped it free, chewing and turning away from his master and the unconscious fellow. The camel minded his business and relieved himself on a nearby rock, huffing and chomping any strand of green he sniffed.

Axel vomited throughout the night. The doctor gave up his rest to make sure the man lying comatic didn't swallow his tongue. Then came the shivering and sickly shade of purple flaking his lips. Flaps of the doctor's paper fan spread droplets over his inflamed skin, another courtesy at the behest of his sore arm. Still, Axel moaned and scratched at the earth beneath him in bloody heat and delirium.

"If you can hang on until tomorrow, son, perhaps we'll find some proper shade and build a hut. Hm? How's that sound? Shade and water. For now, just rest, and don't die on me."

When the sun came up, the doctor cleaned Axel using the rest of the clean water from his reserve and stitched the open flesh splitting his eyebrow in two.

"That'll leave a nasty scar. Not that you need any more ruggedness in your act. You're just a lost soldier, sonny. But maybe one day you'll make a brilliant assistant. Better than Rudie, I hope. He hasn't even apologized for breaking your finger. Lookit him over there, shitting all over the camp, the scoundrel. But I'm the one with the oats; therefore, I make the rules!"

"M-muh... muuuh."

"Ah, in the worst of times, we still call our mothers."

"Mmph. Muh—"

"I wonder what's on the other side of those trees," the doctor said, shading his eyes with his hand, peering to the West. "You look well-travelled, sonny. Any ideas? Hate to run into any of those yawners, not knowing when your last shot was. But I suppose I shouldn't expect any valuable input from a man who can't look me in the eye."

After patching him up, the man hauled Axel to a stand and hoisted him onto the camel's back using a tree for leverage and a series of ropes to fasten him down. Once secured to Rudie's hump, the doctor took a few minutes to catch his breath. "Dunno how many more times I can get you up there, son. You must learn how to walk soon. Or I'll build you a sleigh. But that might take some time."

Far off above the foggy treeline, a sheet of ashy cloud broke to reveal bright blue sky. The doctor liked the look of cerulean and the absence of sand, so the begrimed trio lumbering through thick bush where dew still clung to the undersides of the leaves. The doctor went ahead, collecting globules before they evaporated. Rudie answered the doctor's constant rhetoric with wild groans that muffled Axel's whimpering, and they led their procession over uncertain ground.

"I reckon there's nothing but more trees over that ridge, Mr. Soldier. Maybe some mountains we can find a crevice to hide out in. Just until you get your strength back. The only thing I worry about is those damn yawners. Rudie and I will be safe, but you... I'll scout ahead to make sure it's clear. It'll rack up daylight, but you'll thank me when you're not a bubbling pile of soldier juice. Don't worry, sonny. They didn't immunize me for no reason! I count myself among the elites, but that doesn't mean I fancy myself better than you or more deserving of life. We're all in this, you see. Brights and Uns... We're still together, despite it all. They may have tried to kill you, but look at you now! Alive and well. Isn't that a slap in the face? They send you out to war and hope you never come back. They don't even have the decency to immunize you. What a world we live in."

Rudie let out a gaseous bellow. The doctor whipped around and pointed his walking stick at the quadruped. "Don't interrupt, you vile sow. Nobody needs a camel's opinion."

"Ma... Ma."

"We'll look for your mama after we get you looking presentable. Hang on tight, we're going uphill!"

As the ridge climbed, the trees grew denser. The doctor had to guide his camel through a maze of mossy trunks. Thin, whip-like branches prodded at Axel's tender skin. What leafy arms brushed Rudie's head bent back and snapped against the hunter's raw shoulders. Axel didn't notice, lost in the chimeric slurry of recent injuries. They maneuvered over stones and wove between crumbling stumps, avoiding the deadfalls. The steepled ground sloped upward like a great brown ramp of torn earth. Through the thickness, they muttered, minding their footwork, up and up, stopping here and there so the doctor could take in a few wheezing breaths. The camel—finally wary of obstacles—blew wind and groaned, hesitant on the incline.

"Boy, there had better be some more forgiving land over this ledge. I don't think it's workable to keep climbing. We might have to turn back, depending on what I see at the top. Fingers crossed for a lake. A bath would do me good," said the doctor, fanning his underarms and thighs with the paper fan.

"What do you say, Mr. Soldier? Should we keep going? See if there's anything worthwhile over that lip?"

"Muh."

"That's what I thought. You may not be the finest soldier I've ever met, but you're persistent, and that's key. Come on, fellas. Let's pray for water, and up we go! Can't be worse than the blasted desert."

~*~

Ivar's mood reflected his recent successes in bed. When Trinity brought his meal, he thanked her, even asking about her morning and if she was sleeping all right and eating properly. Trinity laughed nervously, sensing a test, and answered with a practiced air of casualty. Did he know of the plan they'd executed to get Zed in to see him? Was his toothy smile a front? Despite her unease, she humoured the leader and left when he dug into his stew and fresh bread. Trinity also noted Zed's absence, and with the King in lively spirits, assumed everything had gone well with the plan.

Ivar inhaled his late breakfast and dressed for comfort to walk the courtyard. With a bounce in his step, he traversed the throat of the Chrysalis, emerging on the other side to a nest bereft of activity. The morning stalls had cleared out, their occupants and merchants returned to their hovels. Even the young ones—usually at play in the courtyard by now—were nowhere in sight.

Ivar passed by the last remaining group gathered around a low podium, whispering over their berry reductions and leafy salads. Like a cluster of threatened barnacles, each mouth clamped as Ivar strode past. He held his head forward, flexing his palette to clear his airways. None of them made a sound until he was far enough away. Their chattering was undiscernible as distant chirping birds. He stopped at the incline of a foothill, spinning to catch them staring at the back of his head. They snatched their eyes away and made like they weren't gawking.

That wasn't the only peculiar thing that happened to Ivar that morning. Since his prolonged absence, the people seemed to have grown used to keeping to themselves. There was no merriment in the air, only sterile drafts pouring in from the filtration system. Ivar shivered from the brisk air, stopping to consider paying Zed a visit at her apartment. A morbid urge pulled him along, and he continued his walk. Ivar waited until somebody approached him—whether it a man or child—to greet him with customary courtesy. Still, nobody shuffled forward to ask him about his day or to offer him a portion of their recent gardening.

Ivar reached the frosted glass doors to the lab and stood still, thick hands hovering next to his narrow hips. Frozen in place, Ivar bit the tip of his tongue. Something told him Zed was inside the lab, and if he wished to see her, he had to set foot beyond the parameters of his expertise. The lab always put him in a bitter mood. It was the only place in the village that wasn't for him. Though he could visit any corner of Kinderfeld he wanted, he'd never felt welcome in the laboratory. The floors and surfaces' sterility made him cower from touching anything, and the lifeless stares he received from the few staff only reminded him of the responsibilities he'd shunned in favour of hedonism. None of them ever begrudged him his appetites, but he was confident they whispered of his ineptitude behind his back.

He wondered if Zed ever talked about him or if she'd ever vocalized displeasures regarding his leadership. Her request from the day before echoed in the corners of his mind, festering and swelling each hour they were apart. There was a bitter drop of ulterior motive in Zed's visit, and he let it slide down the back of his throat when she asked him to open the gate. But they'd made love, and that was more than Ivar expected. In his heart of hearts, he'd feared Zed would demand more; to let her fly the nest in search of Axel, but she'd taken his refusal graciously and kissed him all the same. Still, a nagging suspicion remained. Something was circulating in the air, whipping about the courts and apartments, squeezing under doorways and filling the citizens with doubts.

A stranger on his own land, Ivar lowered his eyes to the ground and turned away from the lab before he recognized any more scrutinizing glances. He powered along, ignoring the guards, their dutiful nods, cutting over the knolls as fast as his muscular thighs could take him without breaking into a run. The loneliness chased him back to his palace, and even its mouth gaped in question.

Ivar noticed Sheraya nearby, spreading dark red petals, a gained cigar of smoking sage held between her fingers. He craved nicotine the moment the fumes peppered his nostrils. Tears coursed down her round cheeks, though she made no sobs, no whimpers. There was only gentle muttering under her breath and more tears. The king stood waiting for her to acknowledge him and then realized she had no intention of breaking her prayer mantra.

Shunned, Ivar turned away, retreating to his house of lush fabric and solitude where he should never have left.

~*~

Vee insisted Zed stay put while he fetched them dinner. Their setting was the top floor of the greenhouse where he'd played cards and got drunk with his brother some nights. Nobody ever bothered them up there. Zed sat in waiting, enjoying the greenery, the twisting vines and canary yellow zucchini blooms. She stretched an arm out to pluck a flower and nibble its petals. Her stomach gurgled for heavier fare, so she ate another. Vee didn't keep her waiting long after, showing up with a basket of seed-crusted bread and a bowl of sliced potatoes slathered in basil paste and cooked to a crisp. For dessert, he brought dried fruit and freshly harvested cashews.

Moonlight vaulted through the trees, defusing over the glass and casting milky shadows on the greenhouse floor. The air was moist with freshly irrigated soil. Baked in the dimness, Zed couldn't take her eyes off the man sitting in front of her. He'd brought with him the game from their youth, but neither of them suggested opening the box. They smiled as they ate, breathing in the deep aromas and savouring their food together. And in the balmy atmosphere decked in silver light, Zed swore Vee was his brother's twin. Her heart shuddered in remembrance. It was what brought them together; the shared sense of guilt and the strengthening suspicion they'd both lost someone, both failed and scorned by the people who'd invested too much faith in their competence. Zed felt at peace beside him.

The scientist was still a welcome member of the village, hence his aptitude for finding rarer delicacies like wine and ripe figs. They split the skins and scooped out the sweet innards, indulging their tongues on the fruit as if it was the richest of luxuries.

"You know what I would absolutely love to eat again?" Zed asked, sucking seeds from between her teeth.

"Popsicles," Vee answered.

"Close, but no. Chocolate ice cream. I'd kill for some chocolate ice cream right now. "

Vee shook his head. "No way. Strawberry all the way."

"A hot fudge sundae with peanuts and a big maraschino cherry."

"Peanut butter sauce."

"Oh, my God. Don't say that," Zed groaned.

"It's so good. I can't remember the last time I had ice cream. Remember when you could walk a couple blocks in the Summer and buy an ice cream cone?"

Zed smiled, but the thought pricked her memory. "The last time I got ice cream was with my Dad. I got the biggest chocolate sundae, with peanut butter cups and chocolate sprinkles. He told me there was a full day-and-a-half's worth of calories in it, but I didn't care. It was after a soccer game. I didn't like soccer, but if I went to practice every week and scored at least one goal, he'd take me out for ice cream. Two goals meant I got ice cream and five dollars."

Zed sighed, continuing, "I hate thinking about the last times. Like at one point, you did something for the very last time. The last trip for ice cream. The last time you told someone you loved them."

"If you hate thinking about last times, then why are you doing it right now?" Vee asked, eyes blank as discs.

She grimaced, reaching out to touch the toe of her shoe to his, then softening her face. "I can't help it sometimes. Don't tell me you've never thought about how it used to be. You don't have to look at everything so logically."

"I don't," Vee said. "I just rather not think about those times."

"I'm sorry. Is it?—Never mind."

"My fiancé and my kid? Yes. It's always them."

Zed set her dish aside and scooted beside Vee, pressing her back against the wooden barrier of the melon patch, mirroring his position, her mouth just as dead grim as his.

"You seem to handle it well enough. But I understand. I think everyone lost something important to them," Zed offered.

Vee sighed, turning his face to the floor, cutting off the glistening whites of his eyes from view. "Found out she was pregnant the night before I left to work for the army."

"The army?"

"Yes. I had a knack for inventing. You've seen the ammunition I designed for Axel. And it takes a special gun to fire something that lethal without complication. They wanted that kind of technology and offered me a nauseating amount of money to oversee mass production. The only smart thing I ever did was refuse to sell myself. It cost me my family, but I can say with certainty Axel is the only person besides me who's fired one of them. Could you imagine what the world would be like if those had gotten into the wrong hands?"

Zed bottled talk of acid and bloodshed with a shiver and a firm hand on Vee's wrist. "Enough of that. Please. Tell me about her—your fiancé. Let's just... Remember them fondly. I don't want to think about the bullshit out there."

"You'd rather stay inside these bubbles, ignoring a second societal collapse in the making?"

"Yes. I'd rather enjoy my time here with you, listening to nicer stories. This is all that's left. I don't want to think about where we went wrong or right. Let's just talk about what made us happy."

Vee nudged her shoulder. "Why can't we talk about what makes us happy now?"

She giggled and rested her temple on his shoulder. Vee curled his wrist around her knee, and their fingers intertwined. He leaned his head on hers like they had in his apartment before Lora caught them, this time with his heart pumping in double-time.

"What makes you happy now?" Zed asked him.

"Not talking about dead relatives."

"Okay, true. Let's not. So... What are you content with?"

"You," Vee blurted.

Zed's chest tightened. Vee let go of her hand and angled his torso toward her. "I'm sorry. It's difficult for me not to... Stick to you. If I'm honest... You look like her, Lea. I really hate how much you remind me of her. And I don't want to use you to fill the void. It's wrong, but I can't help it. Everywhere I look, I'm reminded of how much I lost. And you're so understanding. You don't have all these expectations."

"Vee—"

"I don't want you to think I'm coming onto you. You don't owe me anything. All I'm saying is, I'd be happy to stick together."

"We will! I want to stick with you, too."

Vee combed his blond hair back, pinching his brows together. "Lea... I want you to tell me no, right now."

"No? What do you mean?" Zed asked.

"Tell me there's no chance in Hell we'll ever get together. If I have it planted in my mind, then that's that. But if you don't, and we continue hanging out like this, getting closer... I might... Think there's a way."

"Valter..."

"Axe knew what he was doing when he brought you here...when he introduced us. Yes, he wanted protection for you, but he also wanted you and me to hit it off. I could tell. He'd never admit it, but I know him. You're perfect for me, but I've seen how others treat you, and I refuse to do the same. I don't want to perform tricks to impress you into sleeping with me like Ivar, but I don't want to stifle my feelings like... Axel. So you need to shut me down, right now. If there's a firm barrier, my mind will reroute, avoiding any possibility—"

"Stop," Zed said. "Please, just stop."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought any of that up."

"No, it's good to speak your mind. I appreciate the honesty, even if it took months to hear."

"It would have been inappropriate if I brought it up. When we had research and pressing issues, it was easy to ignore how familiar you seemed. Now I'm at a stalemate, and you're still here, and Axel's gone. I can't pretend like I don't want to spend my time with you. But I'll stay off your heels, I swear. Just friends."

"I'm not telling you no," Zed murmured. "Maybe at some point, I wanted to fall in love, but now I know that's foolish. Love can't exist in this world anymore. Not without great suffering, and I don't want to suffer anymore. Truthfully, I don't even want to get close to you, Valter, because I'm afraid someone or something will take it away."

"Nothing will take me away."

Zed shook her head, knocking a tear loose. "Don't say that. You can't make that promise. I don't want any more broken promises."

The scientist nodded while a cloud of vapour seethed from the sprinkler heads above the raised garden beds, thickening the air and clinging to their skin. A long silence pervaded, and Zed held her breath until Vee shuffled away to retrieve Wayfare of Austea. He dropped the box before her feet and grinned widely.

"Come on then, let's play. No more doom and gloom for a while."

~*~

Ivar spent the same evening pacing in his room. He went to the private alcove he assigned to the woman on his mind. Zed was fickle, and he didn't want to dash his chances with her by smothering, but something in his stomach wouldn't settle. He'd even dismissed his guard, encouraging another visit, yet she hadn't shown. Ivar buckled under the suspicion that she was angry with him, and her absence was his punishment.

Never the man to deny himself, he made for the Hives. If Zed was alone, surely she'd welcome his company. She'd said it herself: she wasn't one to sleep with just anyone, and he was far from just anyone. He was King, and this was his realm.

Despite his self-reassurance, Ivar carried doubts that manifested on his face. He passed a few citizens, drawing eyes with his acidic mug and ignored them all the way to Zed's door.

She didn't answer the door after he knocked. He reasoned she might be asleep, though it was shy of nine o'clock—early for most but not an unusual time to sleep. Before he turned away, he twisted the handle and cracked the door open an inch, letting out the dark.

"Lea? Are you in here?"

Stagnant silence answered, and he shut the door before anyone saw him. Ivar went to the door on the left and found that one locked. He grimaced, turned from the apartments and left for the lab.

On his way through the courtyard, Ivar saw Nalani and Trinity walking arm-in-arm, engaged in private discussion. Their frantic doe-eyes widened to see him.

"Have you seen Lea?" Ivar asked.

"She should be home, I think," said Trinity.

Nalani shrugged her bare shoulders, still clutching her friend's hand. "I thought she'd be with you, Ivar."

He sneered at the women. "No curtsy? No formality? Has everyone forgotten who's in charge around here?"

The two pressed their arms together, quietly apologizing and stepping aside for Ivar. He stalked toward the lab, holding his breath while throwing open the doors and turning the corner to find the rooms gutted of materials. The refrigerator hummed, and the overhead light flickered, barren and reeking of sterilization.

Ivar examined the dustless surfaces, curious but not enough to go digging through desk drawers. He went down the hall and stopped in front of Vee's door, clearing his airways again to sharpen his ears. There were no voices. Ivar knocked and went unanswered.

He turned in time to see the first door in the hall open and Lora's head poking out. She wore the same displeasure on her face, adjusting her reading glasses while her body caught up with her neck.

"If you're looking for Vee, he's hiding away with that woman everyone is up in arms about," Lora said.

"Hiding away? With Lea?"

"Yeah, whatever her name is. They haven't been here since I caught them getting up close and personal in Vee's room."

Ivar's stomach flipped, his head buzzed. Lora took great pleasure in the snagging of his mouth. She had been fuming by herself, finding specks of dust to brush away to keep her mind off her superior who'd run away with the girl she'd grown to distrust. Lora was a woman of insecurity, easily threatened by others but quick to bite back when given a chance. After she'd found Vee shoulder-to-shoulder with Zed in his apartment, Lora waited for any opportunity to drive a wedge between her beloved head scientist and the newcomer from the desert. Now was the perfect opportunity to damage Zed.

"What do you mean?" Ivar asked.

"You know what I mean, sir. They were practically on top of each other."

Ivar had no reason to discount Lora's claim. She'd proven herself a trusted and valuable member of the village long ago and never caused a ripple of dispute. The folding of her face and iron-clad seriousness was all the King needed to believe what she told him.

"Where are they?"

"I assume—if they're smart—hiding in one of the greenhouses. I wouldn't be surprised if you caught them naked in the strawberry bushes."

Ivar scoffed and rushed away. Lora watched until he disappeared, then went back inside the incubation room and put on a pair of gloves. There was an electric cooler housing blood samples, one from each member of the village. Lora selected a sample from the bottom tray and shuffled to the sink, turning on the tap while reading the label. Popping the top off the vial, she upended the sample and drained the blood away.

Ivar did better than storming the greenhouses in search of Zed. There were slinkier things on his mind. If he caught her in the act with the scientist, only then would he justify blowing up. For now, he snuck through the grounds with his focus tuned and his breath steady.

"What's next for me? I've tried to convince him to let someone go, but he refuses. Do we just exist here now, with no way to move forward? Forever trapped in this moon unit."

"He'll come to his senses," Vee said with meagre hopefulness. "Ivar's full of himself, but he's not stupid."

"Well, let's count on those senses coming soon," Zed snorted.

"Speaking of Ivar... Do you think he's wondering where you are? You did just... You know. If that happened to me, I'd be thinking about it for a while. Wondering after you. Well, not you—'cause we never... Heh. Ah, shit. You get my meaning, right?"

"Mr. Cluney, are you flustered? I don't think I've ever heard you fumble your words before."

"I don't mean to be coarse."

"Don't worry. We'll get through this. Ivar has to see reason… We need to tell him about the ones who died."

"I'll tell him. It should be me," Vee said, stacking the playing cards back in the plastic tray lining of the frayed box.

Zed helped by gathering pieces, separating them into their individual quadrants next to the cards. She set her eyes dead on the floor after they finished packing the game away, sighing in contemplation.

"Who will go?"

Vee frowned. They shared a strained minute of silence interrupted by another burst of spray in the air. Their shirts stuck to their backs, legs aching from crossing and uncrossing. Zed handed the box to Vee.

"Maybe it should be me," she said.

"Absolutely not. You can't leave. It's too dangerous out there, and you don't have to put your life on the line. There's only two people who should go. Me or Ivar."

"You're too important to lose, Vee. That's what Axel wants. I know if he had a dying wish for me, it would be to look out for you. For us to do everything we can to survive."

"Within capability. I'm not a killer, Zed. I'm not like Axel."

Zed smirked, the merciless flames dancing in her belly again, the same ones she'd felt when she screamed at Lora. She'd harboured the noxious warmth before. It was a friend to her.

"But I am...I'm a killer."

Vee set his jaw firmly, scoffing, unable to disagree. "Listen, Rambo. Even armed to the teeth, you're still not going out there alone."

"And neither are you if you go."

"You think Ivar will leave his precious cocoon? I don't think so. He'll probably send one of his guys out to never come back."

Zed shook her head, tired of the speculation. "This is ridiculous. Anyone should be able to come and go as they please. It's tyranny to tell them they can't leave if they want to. I thought this was a place of free will? What happened to the promised land?"

"Same thing that always happens when one person is left in charge."

"On that, we agree."

They left the greenhouse with much to think about, hugged goodbye in the courtyard and separated—Zed toward the Hives and Vee following the path to his room.

The next morning Zed awoke to guards butting on all the doors, yelling for everyone to get to the courtyard. The racket came after a long night of tossing and turning. Her eyes were tight with unrest, her head throbbing, but she put on jeans and a plain white t-shirt with a single breast pocket, similar to the ones Ivar wore.

The citizens filed from the Hives, murmuring and looking around worriedly. Guards stood by to direct the traffic to the medical tent-turned-backdrop. The booth topped the steepest hill in the plaza, out of use for the past few weeks. They pooled around the base of the hill in collective confusion, looking up as Ivar took advantage of the blank vinyl behind him.

Ivar cast a proud smile over the congregation. He summoned everyone from their hiding spots without having to lift a finger and brought them into the light spilling through the checkered dome on high. He waited until he spotted Zed and Vee coming in from their separate tubes, relaxing a bare inch when they didn't arrive together. They cut their ways to the front of the throng and noticed each other right away. Ivar saw the troubled looks they exchanged and sneered.

"Is this everyone?" Ivar called to the head of his guard.

An armed man standing off to the East with a few others gave Ivar a thumbs up. The King nodded, then proceeded, his expression toward his people fresh with tenacity.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Kinderfeld. I've asked you all here to bring you some news. It has taken me a long time to come to this decision, and for my delay, I apologize. I don't take this lightly... We've lost members of our family, and my heart is broken. I've spent too long trying to think of a way to bring trade back to our village. We need supplies, yes, and medics. I understand these things because I've survived before. All of us must exist as a unit, each one pledged to the survival of our crew."

The people looked on with widening eyes. Hearts that once sang for Ivar's monologues found their tune. All of them but Azalea and the other Cluney brother. Ivar burned them with ocular venom, hoisting his smile into a morbid curve. Zed let shoulders and legs swallow her back into the crowd, but not deep enough to block her view of the head scientist glaring back at the leader.

"I forbid travel for your protection. There are dangers outside of our walls. People whose only purpose is to hunt and kill. I don't have to remind you of the horrors we've suffered or the love we've cultivated here in our home. You were all there. Some of you longer than others. They built these walls to protect us—the ones who choose love instead of hate."

Ivar clasped his hands behind his back and took splinted steps back and forth on his makeshift stage. He fashioned himself contemplative, but his eyes shone with intent.

"With that being said... We cannot wait for luck to come to us. This planet is evolving each day. Nature is reclaiming the land, and it will swallow us in its majesty. We will be lost if we don't take action."

"What do we do?" Someone called from the center of the gathering. The fiery-haired father who'd earned his keep cooking and training his son stood out as the shouter. Ivar didn't smile at him so much as he cast his grace upon the redheaded man clutching the freckled boy by the shoulders.

"I'm glad you asked, sir... We are a unity. A tribe of people who want to live in harmony, am I wrong?"

Several shook their heads, others muttered together, a dull drone of tired voices.

"Then we should vote. Does anyone care to nominate themselves or another?"

The apprehension pivoted and picked up with a few gasps. Heads swivelled in search of somebody bold enough to champion themselves for exploration. Vee continued glaring at Ivar. The king returned the glower.

"I'll go!"

Zed gasped after the words left Vee's mouth. He stepped forth, unbreaking under Ivar's challenging eyes.

"So we have one volunteer. Our beloved head of research and weapons development. A very noble gesture! Does anyone else wish to nominate themselves?" Ivar asked. He opened his arms, beseeching a reply with postured hope.

"Nobody should go alone!" Zed shouted.

"Yeah, we need a team!"

Ivar motioned for the crowd to quiet down. Once they simmered, looking on with palpable anticipation, he inhaled deeply for the next addressing.

"We're running low on men to keep our hold. The brunt of the firepower needs to remain here in case of attack," Ivar reasoned.

"I'll go alone. I don't care. We can't stand around any longer!" Vee said, his chest puffed, much to the surprise of the people who knew him.

Ivar barked a few dry laughs, disguising his pleasure to everyone but Zed and the man who'd volunteered to brave the elements. "I suppose if nobody has any objections...Vee will be the one to go. As badly as it tears me to say so... You are the perfect man for the job. Brother, I wish you all the luck."

Zed broke away from the gather and hammered her legs up the incline toward Vee and Ivar, pumping her fists until she reached them.

"Ivar, you can't do this! We can't send people out alone. At least let me go with him!"

"No!" Ivar and Vee shouted at once.

"What are you going to do to stop me? After your decree about peace and harmony, what will you do to keep me from leaving Kinderfeld?"

Ivar adopted her heated expression. "Azalea, stay out of this."

"No. I won't! Not after what happened to Axel. We have to assemble a team! Don't tell me to stay out when neither of you has seen the carnage!"

"Of course you want to go, Lea. All you care about is finding Axel. You used me and hoped I wouldn't figure out you're trying to leave. You never cared about me. You try to act like you're so innocent and respectful, but you're just like everyone else."

"Because I don't want people to die? Ivar, I understand you're trying to protect everyone, but sending men out for slaughter won't help our cause. Please," Zed whimpered. "Set aside our personal issues and try to see the bigger picture."

Ivar cooled suddenly. He patronized Zed with a frantic nod and a forced grin. "All right, Azalea. Consider our personal issues permanently set aside. You got your way. One of the guards will go with Vee. Now, go. I have heard your voice."

The guards gathered around Ivar and Vee, their conversation clipped and sheltered from the citizens by a lineup of broad-shouldered men carrying weapons of varying levels of brutality. Zed stepped away, cowering under the firm looks she received from Ivar's men. Though she bowed out of the political bubble, she stayed close by, watching Vee's sour face muttering umbrage at the King. The other citizens broke off into smaller clusters, chosen families and cliques gathering to discuss the ruling.

A hand slid over Zed's shoulder, and she whirled to find Sheraya bowing her head. "You've done what you can."

"No, I haven't!" Zed nipped. "I should go with him. I'm not afraid of the outside anymore."

"You don't have to be the hero, Azalea. You must survive."

"I have survived. I'm good at it."

"You're needed here. The young ones have to learn from the women."

"Sheraya... I can't let Vee go. I can't."

The elder took hold of Zed's clammy palm, pressing the lines with her thumb. Zed buckled as tears sprung from the corners of her eyes. "He's all I have, Sheraya."

"The only one you ever truly have is yourself. Think about that before you take your heart's path and not your brain's. Look hard into the future."

"I'm trying," Zed sobbed.

"Azalea, I mean it. Your future is important."

Sheraya left her with a warm peck on the cheek and a growing sense of bewilderment. Zed looked around at the people, the hills and the courtyard beyond, the flatland where they set up their booths and entertained each other. Envisioning life beyond the safety of their walls overcame Zed with grief. She'd won, but the conditions were too heavy for her to bear. Now her last friend prepared for expulsion.

Vee took his charge seriously. Zed saw his raw determination as they hashed out a plan. Several times, she stopped herself from storming their parley, anchoring herself to the ground with locked knees and her arms folded over her breasts.

For a long time, the conversation went on, and most of the villagers went about their morning routines, gathering to cook and gossip of the turbulent state of politics. Zed stayed close enough to catch Vee when they finally broke for action, but the men showed no signs of agreement. Ivar had to hush some more uproarious guards, leashing them down with an assuring hand on the shoulder to stop them from infecting the others with their rancour.

Zed spotted a guard sprinting from the warehouse limits. The desperate look on his face alerted her, and she stepped out of sight around the corner of the medical tent, still close enough to listen.

The man approached, panting and calling for Ivar's attention. Zed snuck a peek and saw the group retire from their conference, distracted by their comrade.

"Jackson, what's the matter?"

"It's Zee. It's him! One of the guys found some doctor dragging him through the forest."

"A doctor?" Ivar repeated. "How do you know?"

"He says so. Says his name is Simpson... Or was it Samson?"

"Samson!" Zed yelled, running from her cover toward the reporting guard. "Did you say the doctor's name is Samson?"

"Yeah, Samson," the man huffed, stunned by the woman's sudden appearance.

"Bring him in! Right now. Go get them and bring him to me!" Zed demanded.

"Now, wait a minute," Ivar said. "How do we know we can trust this guy?"

"If it's the Samson I know, we can trust him. Ivar, please. I'll vouch for him if it's who I think it is."

"Who gives a shit, he's got my brother!"

Zed vaulted after Vee, tailed by the guards and Ivar. The march heralded interest from the citizens, and soon, onlookers roved toward the warehouse. Vee turned to the guard who'd brought the news and slapped him on the shoulder. "Go tell them to let Axel and the doctor inside."

"Sir," the guard nodded, jogging ahead to the entrance where two other men stood, baffled and conflicted without orders.

"Let them in!" Zed cried out.

They waited with bursting lungs. It seemed an hour crawled by before a shadowed heap of arms appeared at the mouth of the entrance. Flanked by two guards holding him upright, they carried Axel inside, his head of matted brown hair dangling lifelessly between his shoulders, limp tattooed arms slung around their necks. Zed ran to him and propped his chin up in her hand, heart palpitating, head rushing.

"Axel! Oh my God. You're alive!"

"Now, now, miss. Don't waste too much breath speaking to him. He can't understand you."

Zed turned toward the familiar voice. Samson hobbled in next to a guard who'd taken on his load—a heavy satchel, a duffel bag and two tweed suitcases. Filth and the briny stink of body odour and piss wafted through the tunnel with them. Most recoiled from the stench.

"Doctor Samson, do you remember me? From the bloodbank."

"Ah, yes, of course, I remember you, Zed! You used to zip around on your motorbike, looking for scrap metal and something to eat."

"Yes, yes! I didn't think I'd see you again."

"The chances of us meeting were rather slim, I agree, and I have to say it's lovely to find you in this magnificent bubble here. You can see this splendid little valley from the North. We were hoping for water, but this is much better. Um, speaking of water, where might I find some? Mr. Soldier and I are rather parched. Oh, and I left my camel parked outside. Do you validate?" Samson said with a jolt of wild laughter.

Zed didn't mean to be rude, but turning away from Samson was far too easy when Axel hung before her like a damp towel on a clothesline. She wanted to hold him, to join in as support to get him a surface to lie upon, but she resisted.

Ivar butt in and directed the escort to take Axel to the laboratory, then turned to Zed, scorning the tears in her eyes.

"Looks like you got your wish, Lea. Axel's back. Your life can go back to normal," Ivar said as the rest of them rushed away with the hunter and the doctor in tow.

It was only them, facing off on the hill. Zed quelled the wildfire in her belly with a painful swallow. A debate with Ivar served no purpose, so she turned from him, solemn and absolute.

"You've given me a lot, Ivar. I thank you for that. Hopefully soon, you and I will see eye to eye again, and we can live peacefully, as you said."

She angled down the hill, hurrying toward the laboratory.

Nobody stopped her from entering the stand-in hospital room. Vee had been worrying over his brother, grimacing at his crudely wrapped hand, violet dark and lame at his side. They'd already stripped him naked and laid a blanket over his lower extremities, so the bruises spraying his ribs screamed in the whiteness. His skin was bright red and glossy, shoulders scabbed with burns. With all his muscles slackened, Axel spilled over the bed, deadweight and loose-jawed.

"What happened?" Zed asked, turning to the doctor propped up in a gurney, sipping from a jug of water.

"I can't say for sure," said Samson. "He was comatose when I found him baking in the desert. That's one lucky man, right there. Lucky he crawled his sorry ass to where he did. Otherwise, I might have missed him by a mile."

"What should we do, Samson? How do I make him come out of it?"

"Oh, we can never be sure. It could be a few days, weeks... Months. My suggestion is to regulate his body temperature, treat his wounds and burns, and hope for the best."

Zed turned back to the unconscious man. She spotted the clumps of dirt in his hair, the scrapes on his elbows and mud-caked fingernails and her panic increased.

"Somebody bring me washcloths, soap and water right now!"

"I'd be mighty careful cleaning those burns, Zed. He's got some good blisters forming. And mind his hand."

"I will, I will," Zed nodded. "Just tell me what to do."

"Can I bother someone for a snack?" Asked Samson.

The guards who'd toted them into the lab stuck around until no longer needed. Zed refused help from anyone except Vee after Trinity brought them a bucket of warmed water, and Lora provided antiseptic. They started cleaning Axel gently, beginning with the grime under his nails. Samson ate from a bowl of mixed fruits, humming in delight from the nectar sliding down his throat.

Zed moved Axel's injured arm with great care and washed away the smears of dirt marring his tattoos, applying disinfectant to the cuts. Vee worked on the opposite side of the bed, combing out the chunks in his hair. Once in awhile, Zed met Vee's eyes, and he'd nod or give her a forced grin.

Axel's unconsciousness only registered later in the night after they'd cleaned him and swapped a few words of astonishment. Zed stayed nearby, wishing his eyes open, but every hopeful breath gave way to disappointment. Lost in the blankness of his mind, Axel floated.

Even Lora surrendered to the sobering tension, making herself available to Vee only. Zed didn't concern herself with the woman. Her mind was awash with relief and worry for the friend who'd found his miraculous way back home. Nothing else mattered but the battered man lying in slumber on the hospital bed.

Samson fell asleep, and Vee left after long, touching Zed's shoulder before excusing himself. He promised to come back as soon as he'd had some rest. Zed nodded, squeezing his hand for a lingering moment, then releasing him. Sleep had no chance of overtaking her, so she stayed next to Axel, balling herself up in one of the office chairs, listening to his wheezing and sticking her fingers under his scruffy jaw to check his pulse every time he went silent.

When it was only her, Axel, and Samson sleeping in the room, she leaned over the bed and brushed her palm over Axel's scaly forehead. She avoided his singed nose, the curving laceration above his left eye and the peeling skin on the crests of his cheeks, touching his jaw and stroking his hair a few times.

"Don't worry, everything's okay now. You're back where you're safe."

The woman slumped into the chair, propping her heavy head on her elbow. She watched his chest rise and fall for a few minutes, plates of seared skin stretching tight over his ribcage, and fought off the urge to doze alongside him.

"Mmph-uh... Muh."

Zed's eyes snapped open. "Axel? Did you speak?"

"Hmm," he thrummed.

"Can you hear me, Axel? It's me, Zed. Azalea. Do you recognize my voice?"

Axel's throat went quiet, the enfeebled notes fading back to obscurity. Zed tried to get him mumbling again, but the hunter remained still.

"It's okay. I promise, I'll make you better. You're home now, and I'm not going anywhere until you’re better, okay, Axel? Don’t worry. You’re at home with me."

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mst3kproject · 4 years

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Voodoo Island

Leonard Maltin thought this movie was boring, which is, honestly, kind of terrifying. Its ostensible star is Boris Karloff, who somehow managed to avoid ever being on MST3K, but it was produced by Howard Koch, the director of Untamed Youth, and was written by Richard Laundau, who did the same for Lost Continent (uhoh). It’s also got Jean Engstrom from The Space Children, and if the voice of the radio operator sounds familiar that’s because it’s 🎶 Adam Weeeeeest.

A hotel company wants to build a resort on a tropical island, but the scouting party they sent never came back – except for one guy, Mitchell, who has been reduced to a catatonic state by whatever it was he saw there. Worried, the hotelier sends renowned skeptic Mr. Knight to find out if it’s true that the island is under some kind of voodoo curse. After much wasting of the audience’s time, Knight’s party reaches the island and finds it infested with man-eating plants, coconut crabs, and unfriendly natives. I wish I could tell you more of the plot, but that’s basically all there is.

Voodoo Island is unusual as bad movies go, in that you don’t actually realize how bad it is until it’s over. Things that seem to be the plot move merrily along, always feeling like it’s building up to something cool… and then at the last moment it just deflates like a gas station tube man with his fan turned off. In hindsight, the audience realizes that very little of what they just saw had anything to do with what was supposedly going on. In many ways, you never do find out what was going on at all!

The middle section of this movie is not quite as obviously padded as Lost Continent with its endless rock climbing, but almost all of it is, retrospectively, pointless. On the first leg of their journey to the island, the party’s plane is caught in a storm and forced to make an emergency landing – only to find that the weather has mysteriously cleared right up! After repairing their radio they set off again, and nothing much comes of the incident. They stop on another island where they have trouble hiring a boat, and where somebody puts a curse of some sort on them. Nothing comes of this. Later still, their boat stalls out and refuses to start again, even after they’ve cleared a blocked fuel line. This has no real consequences, because the tide carries them in anyway, and the movie never deals with what happens when they try to leave the island again.

Along for the ride is Mitchell, the guy who was so terrified by what he saw on the island that he hasn’t moved or spoken since. He has a couple of medical emergencies that resolve themselves without long-term consequences, and then simply drops dead before they ever reach the island. They don’t learn anything from him or his condition. A similar fate later befalls another character, Finch, but this time the movie ends before he has a chance to either die or snap out of it. Mitchell is only in this movie to make it longer, and possibly so it could claim it had a zombie.

With the movie already half-over, we finally reach this mysterious island. The group are greeted by a trail of clues that make Knight thing somebody is trying to lead them somewhere… perhaps to answers, perhaps to a trap. Eventually they’re captured by the natives, but there’s no reason they had to be in a particular place for this to happen – the natives have been following them the whole time and could have intervened at any point. None of this stuff reads as padding because it feels like it’s going to lead to something. Again, it’s only when the credits unexpectedly start to roll that you realize almost the whole movie was irrelevant.

Padding is not Voodoo Island’s only problem – the dialogue is awkward at best. Most of it is on a Revenge of the Sith level, where characters just say exactly what they’re thinking in a way that might have sounded poetic on paper but just doesn’t work out loud. The boat captain, Gunn, gets a Gunslinger moment in which he narrates his traumatic backstory in a single talking head shot. Knight is forever going on about Rational Explanations and then suddenly declares his change of heart when confronted with a voodoo doll. There’s no meat to this arc at all, no sense of Knight questioning his worldview or coming to terms with anything – he just says I do believe! like he’s in a Santa Claus movie and then it’s over.

The worst of both the dialogue and the supposed character arcs occur in the love story. There are girls in this movie, so of course there has to be a love story, and it’s terrible. The lady half of this one is Knight’s assistant Miss Adams, who is very poised and professional and doesn’t smoke or drink, and spends the first half of the movie being tutted at by just about everybody. The other woman in the group, Claire, tells her she could just be so pretty if she’d only change the way she did her hair. Gunn calls her a ‘machine’ and asks if she even knows how to be a woman. This raises some hackles in the modern viewer, who wants to see Adams appreciated for what she is rather than what she has the potential to be if she changes everything about herself.

But Voodoo Island was made in the fifties, when changing yourself to please a man was what women aspired to! Miss Adams therefore swears off being a nerd and kisses Gunn, whose main personality trait is being a stunning asshole. He’s drunk and bitter, and earlier in the movie he tried to hit on Claire, who had to tell him to fuck off about four times before he got the idea. Later he insults and threatens Adams because her intelligence makes him feel like less of a man. Apparently one kiss from her completely undoes his PTSD and he’s a better person now.

These two getting together also totally dismisses the healthy and supportive friendship Adams has with Knight, who is not only her boss but has some fatherly affection for her. He praises her work ethic and tells her that she shouldn’t listen to people who think she’s boring. I guess we’re supposed to think it’s good that she quits working for him so she can run off with a drunk who’s threatened to slap her, because Gunn will make her life more exciting.

At the supposed climax, the natives (an assortment of ethnic-looking extras who never speak) take the group prisoner, and they are brought before the chief (a white guy in dark makeup), who tells them why outsiders aren’t allowed on the island. The prisoners are taken to a hut where they are tied up. One of them is possibly murdered by voodoo, and then the chief… just lets the rest of them leave. No conditions specified, although it’s implied that the islanders have more voodoo dolls and plenty of pins. We don’t even find out if they actually made it back. To get to their boat, the party will have to pass back through the carnivorous jungle without a guide, and once they reach the beach, they’ll have to fix their engine. It really feels like there ought to have been more of a climax, never mind a denouement. As the credits begin, I was just going, “that’s it?”

The actors are mostly mediocre. Boris Karloff tries really hard to rise above the material but never gets there, which is understandable when his lines are things like, “no, you fool, they’ll slaughter us to bits!”. All this badness really is a terrible shame, too, because Voodoo Island’s setpiece monsters, the man-eating plants, are actually incredibly cool. They never look real, but they’re much more creative than the standard giant Venus’ flytrap. There’s a thing that wraps long bean-like leaves around a swimmer and drowns her, another than catches its victims with a sticky bulbous stem, and yet a third that folds ferny fronds around prey and digests it! A movie that made proper use of these monsters would be a great time. I hope the prop people went on to the better things they deserved.

(At the other end of the effects scale are the coconut crabs I mentioned. These are not actual coconut crabs, but dead specimens of some other, much more gracile species. This, too, is unfortunate, because coconut crabs are living crustacean nightmares capable of killing and eating seagulls. One theory about Amelia Earhart’s ultimate fate is that she was devoured by coconut crabs.)

As for Voodoo Island having anything to say… it has some kind of muddled point about not dismissing the supernatural out of hand, but its ‘magic’ is pretty lame, and Knight’s arc is handled so badly that it passes by without making much of an impression. The story does seem to have another possible theme, though. As usual I can’t tell if this is intentional or not, but Voodoo Island seems to have something to say about concepts of ownership.

The hotelier has taken an interest in the island because he did an inventory of his properties and discovered he owned it. How he came to do so, we have no idea… it must have been sold to him by somebody else who’d likewise never been there, since the tribal chief tells us that Mitchell and his companions were the first white men to ever go there. What made that person think they owned it? Does the concept of ownership even mean anything when you don’t know that you own something? Does owning something entitle you to destroy it?

The natives own the island in the much less abstract sense that they live there. The chief tells the party that his people went to this island on purpose, because they thought its nasty flora would keep white people from following them there. They want no part of modern civilization, and seem completely unaware that somebody outside their community is claiming he owns this land. Whether the idea of ‘owning’ land is even a meaningful one to them, we can’t tell. When the Lenape allowed the Dutch to live on Manhattan Island, they probably had no idea the settlers would consider the land exclusively theirs.

These are some things that still need thinking about in the twenty-first century, and if you’re going to watch Voodoo Island do it for that and for the fun monsters. Even then, you’re likely to be disappointed.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #voodoo island #tw: abuse #humanitarian vegetables #50s

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aforrestofstuff · 4 years

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So, my lil sister is currently playing The Sims Castaway in her laptop beside me, it makes me think: What will the heroes do if they're somehow get stranded together in an unhabited island? What chaotic things they will do with other fellow heroes in there while waiting for a rescue?

Okay, I’ve basically just written a dumbass little deserted island au for you. Thanks for the request, anon! 💓💓💓

If ALL of the main heroes were to get stranded on a deserted island all together, then I’d imagine it’d have something to do with the Association fucking up big time. Maybe they were all being transported to a threat overseas and got sent off-course? So, that means their only chance of rescue would have to be from the Association themselves (and we all know how much they lag to deal with shit). Needless to say, the heroes are gonna have to get comfortable with one another and work together to pick up a thing or two on survivalism while they wait for rescue. That’s gonna be hard.

Child Emperor will have the bright idea to separate everyone into smaller groups based on their area of expertise. Nobody argues with this because it’s pretty much common sense, but the stakes are high in seeing who gets paired with who. There’s not a whole lot of bad blood between the heroes, but lord knows they’ve got a few ego problems...

These groups are gonna be Hunters/Gatherers, Homemakers, Walmart Runners, People Who Don’t Really Do Anything, the Super Duper Strike Force, and Oh, Shit it’s the Cops.

In addition to the main congregation of heroes and their groups, there’s also gonna be one more group of people that stray from the majority. These people are gonna be called Stragglers. Stragglers consist of those that:

A. Have been excluded from the main group due to being a headass.

B. Went off on their own because they’re convinced they can survive without anyone’s help.

C. Got lost.

Now, with that being said: let’s get crackin’ boys.

Disclaimer: this shit is crack as fuuuuuck

The majority of the heroes:

Group 1: Hunters/Gatherers

This group is responsible for leaving camp constantly to go hunt/forage for food.

Flashy Flash: I’ve said this before in a previous hc, but he has a pretty decent knowledge on how to find food in the wild due to him always being sent to the middle of nowhere on assassination missions. I also hc him as pescatarian, so that means that he’d be pretty good at fishing. Even though his main protein is from fish, he also has a basic understanding on how to hunt for other animals as well. He just won’t eat them cause they’re yucky.

Zombieman: He’s not super adept at anything to do with survivalism, but he’s a quick learner. It won’t take him long to figure out how to apply his detective skills when tracking animals in the wild (I.E., looking for tracks, clues, and picking up on an animal’s sense of direction). He’s also can’t die, so he’d be the guy to try out some funky-looking mushrooms/berries/herbs to see if they’re poisonous or not, making foraging a lot easier for everyone.

Mumen Rider: The group’s resident forager. He knows which plants are poisonous and which aren’t like the back of his hand due to the many years he spent in the Boy Scouts as a young lad. He also knows a lot of basic survival necessities, like how to start a fire, how to make rope from palm leaves, basic first aid, and finding clean water. He’d essentially be a walking guide on locating basic sources for water, firewood, and fish for the Walmart Runners to find back at camp.

Group 2: Homemakers

This group is responsible for building and maintaining camp. They also do basic inventory on everyone’s resources.

Child Emperor: He’s in charge of designing and construction. He’d know the best way to build a shelter so everyone’s little huts last long enough—even while under duress from crazy island weather and basic wear and tear—for the Hero Association to come to the rescue. He’d be responsible for giving the Walmart Runners the list of what he and the rest of the Homemakers need to make camp the best it can be. He’s basically in charge of everyone. Even if they don’t like it.

Genos: Genos is in charge of cooking food every night for dinner. He would be on the Super Duper Strike Force, but he’s the only one that has an endless supply of fire, so he’s in charge of keeping every light source lit and igniting the bonfire each night in time for dinner. He’s also a walking Swiss Army knife, so he’d also be the one to do any basic repairs on the camp huts in the event that one of them gets a little hole or some shit. He gives Saitama an extra serving of food each night, which has caused some internal conflict.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: As a prison inmate, he’s the expert on making somewhere comfortable on limited resources. He’d be everyone’s guide on how to make tasty food with no seasoning nor cooking equipment, in addition to teaching everyone how to stay warm without real blankets. He’d give everyone fun ways to stay busy (like making little straw dolls or playing catch with coconuts) because it gets hella boring in prison and he’s developed an innate talent for finding ways to pass the time.

Group 3: Walmart Runners

This group is responsible for leaving camp to go find resources unrelated to food, like firewood, clean water, leaves, rocks, and other things the Homemakers might need to make camp better.

Saitama: Child Emperor didn’t really know what group to put Saitama in, but Genos vouched for him and said Saitama was a fast runner. So, he got paired with Superalloy on the Walmart Runners team. He and Superalloy don’t really have any wilderness survival skills, so they rely on people like Mumen Rider and Child Emperor to point them in the right direction and give them specific instructions on what to bring back to camp. Because Saitama is so fast and strong, he’ll leave camp and be back in 30 seconds, holding twice the amount needed of whatever Mumen Rider told him to find. He often over-stocks camp on purpose so he can take long breaks in between supply runs.

Superalloy Darkshine: He got paired with Saitama because Child Emperor thought Genos was joking when the cyborg said Saitama was basically God, so he was put on the Walmart Runners to help even everything out. He’s super cooperative with Child Emperor and Mumen Rider, often bringing back way too much supplies, just like Saitama. This is due to the fact that he’s so fucking strong and huge, he can carry enough firewood to supply a small army for weeks. He also helps the Homemakers with maintaining camp in between supply runs, typically carrying all of the heavy stuff and doing all of the hard labor that comes with construction.

Group 4: People Who Don’t Really Do Anything (but also don’t make things worse)

This group consists of people who don’t contribute shit to the survival effort, but also don’t exactly make things worse. They’re just chillin.

King: King doesn’t have harbor any knowledge that can be applied while trapped on a deserted island with like, 20 homicidal maniacs. He spends all of his time huddled in his hut having a perpetual panic attack. Nobody comes in to check up on him or tell him to get off his ass because they’re all pretty intimated and believe that he’s done enough work as a hero to warrant him having a little break. Everyone thinks he’s having the time of his life while on a little vacation, when he’s actually dying inside and wishing this whole thing was over. He’s tries to call his mom a million times but his phone doesn’t receive service. He’s suffering.

Pig God: He also doesn’t have any skills or knowledge that can be applied to surviving on a desert island, so he’s just vibin. He, like King, is a gamo to the extremo and spends most of his time playing video games/watching anime, so it’s only natural that he’d be out of his element on a desert island. Unlike King, however, some people give him shit for it. This is due in part because he eats like 19 rations every meal and doesn’t really do anything to pull his weight around camp. He’s actually gained weight since they’ve been deserted. Everyone has cast a secret vote that in the event they run out of food, Pig God is the first to be eaten.

Group 5: The Super Duper Strike Force

This group is responsible for guarding camp all hours of the day. They sleep in shifts, and are constantly watching the jungle/beach for any monster activity.

Metal Bat: didn’t want to be a part of this group because that meant that he wouldn’t get his full 8 hours of beauty rest every night, so he only agreed to join on the condition that Child Emperor let him pick the name. So, lo and behold, he’s on the Super Duper Strike Force. Badd is in charge of watching the north end of camp, and is often seen climbing palm trees to get a vantage point on the great expanse of wilderness to see if there is any monster activity nearby. While he’s on top of trees, he’ll also try tirelessly to attain cell service so he can get in contact with Zenko. He fails almost each time, but boy is he persistent. He also gets bored a lot while on watch, so he just bats rocks around while using a picture of Amai that he stapled to a palm tree as a target.

Watchdog Man: He’s always on watch in City Q anyway, so this is pretty much just business as usual. He made a little mound of sand for himself (which is really hard to do with paws, okay?) to server as a makeshift pedestal like the one he has back home. People kind of forget he exists like 3 days into this whole fiasco because he doesn’t really do anything outside of just... sitting there.

Group 6: Oh Shit, it’s the Cops

This group is responsible for making sure nobody kills each other. They’re usually people who have background experience managing groups of people (this group was also named by Metal Bat because Silverfang caught him trying to vandalize Flashy Flash’s hut, to which Badd promptly yelled out “Oh shit, it’s the cops!”)

Fubuki: Even though the Fubuki Group rarely has disagreements, she still knows how to put a fucker in their place. Nobody cares that she’s B-Class, she’s feared all the same. If someone fucks up around camp, she’ll mom the hell out of them until they straighten themselves out. On top of that, she also helps Puri make camp comfortable for everyone, and assisted Child Emperor when he was assigning roles and groups.

Silverfang: He’s a master at keeping track of murderous hobos. He raised Garou, didn’t he? He can do anything. If someone fucks up, all he needs to do if give them a side-eye and that’ll be enough for them to get back in line. He suggested that everyone maintain a strict routine to ensure that nobody goes crazy while being trapped together in a deserted hell. And so far, it’s worked out just fine. So far.

Tanktop Master: The Tanktop gang, like the Fubuki Group, rarely sees disagreements. He isn’t one to hand out punishment, discipline, or reprimands, so if he sees someone fuck up, he’ll kindly pull them aside and ask them what’s up. He’ll work with everyone to ensure that all of the heroes are friendly to each other, since that’s pretty much the best anyone can do (given the situation). He’ll also help out Silverfang with his “maintaining a routine” idea, making a personalized workout routine for everyone.

Stragglers:

Tatsumaki: Tats went out on her own the minute everyone got deserted because she was already tired of their shit to begin with. She’s been doing fine, albeit being hella pissy. She’s already magic’d herself a shelter, found that she can start fires by forcing two rocks to rub against each other really fast, and that she can also kill animals in seconds just by looking at them the wrong way. Her main gripe is being away from clean sheets and soap operas, but she’s a trooper. She’ll survive.

Amai Mask: Amai Mask got voted out of the majority because he’s a dipshit and they were all gonna jump him if he didn’t haul ass across the island, far, far, away from the main camp. He’s been suffering. He can hunt fine, but he’s got zero survival skills and is currently sleeping under a cold rock. Child Emperor gave him some bright red rope to tie around his camp so the Hero Association could easily spot him from a distance when they arrive for rescue, but the rope was eaten by a bear. He’s gonna die if he doesn’t get off that island pronto.

Metal Knight: Metal Knight willingly separated himself from the group because he’s convinced that he can survive without the help of anyone else, (even though he was just gonna get voted out anyway because everyone hates that fucker) and has since then been building an army of robot coconuts. He can engineer himself a shelter just fine, and he’s figured out how to sic his little robots on nearby wildlife so he can eat. I hate to say it, but he’s actually doing well.

Drive Knight: Drive Knight also purposefully separated himself from the majority because he saw Metal Knight do it and is currently on a quest to hunt down Bofoi and merk that fucker’s ass in the jungle with God as his witness, cold-blooded. He doesn’t need wilderness survival skills because he runs on batteries and solar panels. He does, however, need a fucking GPS because he’s been lost for three days with no robot coconut army in sight. If he doesn’t find Bofoi or the main group before the Hero Association arrives for rescue, then he’ll most definitely get left behind, and that is a risk he is willing to take. Dumbass.

Atomic Samurai and his 3 hooligans: Atomic Samurai, Iaian, and Okamaitachi got separated from the group because they somehow ended up on a completely different part of the island upon being deserted. The two disciples listened to Kami (bad idea) while he was trying to find a sense of direction, and they ended up straying even farther away from the group than they were when they started. Bushidrill also ended up on a completely different part of the island, separated from both the group and Atomic Samurai’s gang, but they found each other around 2 days into this whole fiasco by pure chance. Bushidrill was found sitting in a tree 20ft off the ground, wearing a coconut bikini, and stress-drinking a bottle of saké he had smuggled in his robe before everything went to shit. All in all, when the disciples and Kami put their heads together, they make a pretty good team. Iaian hunts, Kama makes camp, Bushi sits on his ass, and Kami sits with Bushi. They’re not going to be left behind as easily as Drive Knight, though. If they’re not found before the Hero Association comes to the rescue, then you bet your ass those corporate cronies are gonna spend a pretty penny on search parties.

So, now that we have everyone’s roles and groups down, I’m gonna make up some island shenanigans because this shit is just TOO GOOD to be left alone like this.

The shenanigans:

The quest for food:

Zombieman, while hunting with Flashy Flash and Mumen Rider: hey, stop moving. I think I see a deer over there.

Mumen Rider, looking through a set of binoculars: awww, it has a baby!

Flash: where did you get those binoculars?

Mumen: oh, they were in my wilderness survival kit!

Zombieman: what

Mumen, looking through his bag: yeah, I have a compass, a canteen, a bird-watching manual, some fire-starters, some dynamite next to the fire-starters— oh no.

The quest for food Part 2:

Flashy Flash: I found this strange mushroom, but I don’t know if it’s poisonous.

Mumen: hmm, let me look it up in my manual—

Zombieman: *swipes the mushroom and gobbles it up*

Mumen:

Flash:

Zombieman: it’s poisonous

The quest for dinner:

Child Emperor, speaking to everyone at camp: okay, guys. We’re gonna start having nightly bonfires that will hopefully aid us in making passing ships aware of our location. It’s also how we’re gonna cook our food—

Pig God: *raises hand*

Child Emperor: no, we don’t have any marshmallows.

Pig God: *slowly lowers hand*

The quest for peace:

Badd: fuck the police! *sprints away*

Tanktop Master: what did he do?

Silverfang: I caught him carving “flash sux” into the sand and he tried to hit me with a coconut after I told him to stop.

The quest for Bushidrill:

Iaian: Sensei, it’s been two days. Maybe he’s with the others—

Kami: no, I know Bushidrill. If WE’RE lost, then he’s SUPER lost.

Okamaitachi: there! In that tree!

Bushidrill, face-planted on a tree branch 20ft off the ground: God, is that you?

Kami: I knew it.

Kami: Iaian, cut him down.

Iaian: is that really the best idea—

Kami: just do it.

Iaian: *cuts down Bushidrill*

Bushidrill: *immediately gets knocked unconscious the minute he hits the ground*

Kami: good.

109 notes · View notes

tabletopjourneys · 4 years

Text

Session 34 Notes

The Silver Scale Pack finishes clearing Perfection of its worm and shrieker problem, then continues off-road until they arrive safely in Longview to meet Rana's mother.

@gher-bear @aradow @telurin @epimetala

On this day we find a dead worm, kill more shriekers, and then return to town. There we find out that Ixayl'anu's elk had an encounter of his own, saving the camels all by himself! We don't see what flying thing caused the ruckus though and call the townspeople back to safety with mirror communications. Edea takes over and we continue on our way to Longview. Along the way, we sight a thunderbird storm and find wondrous treasure in some long-abandoned wagons. Eventually we end up in Longview, upon which we immediately exit to the outskirts and meet Rana's mother, Romy. Then we end the session with a level up! Welcome to level 8 SSP!

(Read More)

(Taking a Long Rest) Before Diem goes to sleep, they recast tiny hut, rolls an 8 on watch, Rana rolls a 17. She can see the lip of the valley and sees a flash of light.

She gets a 13 survival check on mirror glint communication and recognizes this is an all clear? morse code with mirrors thing. Rana nudges Phi about it to see if she knows this mode of communication better or at least has a mirror on her as well.

Phi hands over her small mirror with a silver handle.

Rana assumes it’s Edea, messages the number 1, spells out worm, flashes “message received”

After a brief moment she gets back “not visible/query not found”

Rana: “Message received”

Rana tells Phi what was said back and forth, then leans over the building and tells Diem as well.

Phi and Ixayl’anu’s watch: 14 Ixayl'anu, 19 Phi

At 1 or 2am the most god-awful scream they’ve ever heard in their life, coyote mixed with a rabbit, loud and wailing and pained. It wakes Rana up.

Phi knows it’s deeper into the valley.

Rana scrambles to look down and check on us on the ground. Phi continues investigating and gestures the approx direction for Rana.

It continues for about 10 minutes.

Diem finally wakes up “What? Huh? What the fuck is that?”

Phi 27 perception out in the valley. She sees off in the distance and with a fairly good idea of what they look like, she sees one completely on top of the ground way off in the distance, mouth open, she can see it is “beached” and making this noise.

She pokes Rana and points it out, then whisper yells over the edge at us about it being one of the worms.

Rana with perception 7 thinks she can kinda make it out.

Phi: Half mile, ¾ of a mile.

It tapers off though and everything is quiet, too quiet afterward.

Phi keeps her eye on that worm.

Come morning, Diem gets 3 charges back on their band of shocking grasp and recasts tiny hut as we wake up, just to keep it there until it’s no longer needed.

Rana checks again in the morning and what she thought was the worm was a rock (17 perception this time)

Rana: Let’s go check out that worm.

We discuss what’s up while snacking on rations and getting ready to go. Rana and Phi bring their rats with, but we leave the albino shrieker in its box in the shade.

(Investigating a dead worm - more shriekers!)

We spread out walking toward the beached worm, Rana in front.

With a perception check of 20, Phi stops as she catches dust in the distance, but it turns out to be an actual dust devil instead; no poof poofs of worms.

Before we can even see the worm, we smell it super bad, the worst dead thing that’s been sitting in the sun, putrifying. We see it now and it’s not moving.

Rana: Was this here yesterday?

Phi: Not until last night when it started making noise.

Rana: Does it look like its been dead longer than it actually has? With a medicine check of 4, it looks fairly together. She remembers Edea did a blight spell but this doesn’t look like that.

Diem covers their nose and investigates. It’s still not moving, mouth is open, tongues are not moving.

Phi tries to shoot it, nothing happens, looks like she just hit a hay bale with it.

Rana: Well we can message Edea and tell her the last worm is dead.

Ixayl'anu: A worm is dead, are we sure it’s the last one?

Rana shrugs.

Diem keeps walking around until they finally see blood all over the ground on the other side of the worm. Eventually they get to a better angle as everyone goes around it the other way. They finally see there are no insides, it’s been hollowed out. They tell everyone else.

Ixayl'anu tries to investigate as well, but doesn’t learn much.

Diem takes a 12 investigation, sees foot prints that look like they could fit shriekers and the hole in the worm hide is ragged.

Rana walks up and smacks it hard but nothing happens.

Diem startles: Shit, Rana.

Looks like a scuffle in the area, mess of prints, two sets leading away, headed toward the other side of the Rim.

Rana: Let’s follow them.

Ixayl'anu: Do we wanna leave a message for Edea?

Rana: If you have a way to leave a message…?

Ixayl'anu: You’re the one who wants to impress her

Rana: I have a mirror.

We don’t have anything substantial to report to check in though so we decide to follow the tracks, Rana in the lead with a 21.

We see them go off into the distance.

Investigation for Rana tells her there are two sets of footprints, we gather there were 3 total.

This worm is roughly the same direction as our 2 lost shriekers, we walked through some slightly charred field, but this is quite a bit farther out than where we last saw the on-fire shriekers.

We are only barely still in sight of town. The farther we get form town, the more on edge Rana gets.

Rana sees a glob of blood and fur along the way, we keep moving while Rana makes sure we don’t get lost as we go. None of us are being stealthy, we’re trying to stick close to rocks though whenever possible.

Phi hears wet crunching sounds ahead, ripping wet munching noises.

Phi makes a stopping gesture at all of us: waitwaitwaitwait did anybody else hear that?

Only Rana hears it now too: I think they caught something else.

Ixayl’anu gets up on a rock to try and see (16): She gets the gross scent she’s learned to associate with these creatures.

We send Phi ahead to scout over the rock, stomach crawling over the top. 28 stealth: Phi sees 2 shriekers eating a dead cow. She turns her head and plays charades. Mouths “cow” then corrects to “two”

Rana to the rest of us: There are two cows, they probably belong to the village, let’s go get them. *she starts walking around to fight them*

Phi gets ready to fight as well seeing her getting ready to fight.

(Another shrieker fight)

The shriekers scream at Rana as soon as they raise their little heat sensors - she makes her save.

Rana: They’re not cows guys!

Phi takes a surprise round shot but misses. She shoots again and does 16dmg to pink - she uses her bonus action attempting to hide by sliding down the side of the rocks and moving back. 24 stealth check.

Blue rushes Rana and bites at her.

Rana flame blades, but misses. Fiery scimitar sticks around though and it will serve as a bonfire of sorts if Edea is looking at us.

The creatures LOVE it mmm so much lovely heat.

Pink also charges Rana and tries to bite the sword, bites through to no effect.

Diem rushes up and hits with one shot of eldritch blast for 3dmg.

Ixayl’anu rushes forward and takes a swing at pink, miss, hit, 9dmg.

Phi runs forward to shoot at them from behind, misses, and has no movement left to hide.

Blue tries to bite Rana with disadvantage, but hits anyway and deals 14dmg

Rana tries to stab blue with her sword, does 6 fire dmg.

These guys do not look previously charred.

Pink tries to bite Rana and her beautiful sword again, but misses.

Diem tries to parkour up the lower portion of the rock, makes it, casts eldritch black at pink, but misses both strikes.

Ixayl'anu hits pink for 8dmg, misses her 2nd strike.

Phi shoots at blue and gets a crit! 34dmg, blue is bloodied by it. Phi bonus action hides in a pile of rocks. 13 stealth - she feels sorta secure...

Blue bites at sword/rana and misses

Rana swings at blue but misses.

Pink bites at Rana and misses.

Diem casts eldritch blast at blue for 16dmg total (one crit)

Ixayl'anu slashes at pink, misses, misses

Phi has to do a con save and passes as purple screams at her from behind. It jumps down.

The others scream as well, Ixayl'anu and Diem make their saves though while Rana is immune from her previous success.

Phi runs forward (directly east) around the rocks and away from purple, she shoots at blue, misses, dashes farther away again (over 50ft away from purple)

Blue misses Rana.

Rana swings at blue, misses.

Pink misses.

Diem hits blue for 16dmg total again, kills it.

Ixayl'anu swings at pink 11dmg, misses with 2nd strike.

Purple charges Phi and takes a bite - 10dmg, she uses evasion to take only 5dmg.

Phi switches to her daggers and hits with both for a total of 13dmg, bonus action disengages, uses her movement to be closer to Ixayl'anu, slightly behind and a few paces east.

Rana stabs at pink and deals 6dmg.

Does purple look previously charred? No.

Pink bites at Rana and her sword, just barely misses.

Diem sees purple hungering after Phi and decides to try and help draw its attention toward them - Rana and her fiery sword all bright and tasty looking between. They hit purple with eldritch blast for 10dmg total.

Ixayl'anu hits pink for 7dmg, misses 2nd strike.

Purple turns around, sees the sword, but Ixayl'anu is closer so it attacks her and misses.

Phi attacks with her daggers and does 24dmg total, efficiently killing it. Phi disengages.

Rana swings at pink, deals 14dmg, killing it.

(After battle investigations)

Rana lets go of her flame blade, but keeps the remaining 10minutes of concentration to summon it back as a bonus action. She checks the cow for more information (10) it is very dead, nothing otherwise out of the ordinary.

The rest of us look around, Ixayl'anu gets a nat 20 investigation (19). She finds a shrieker halfway up the cliffs purple came from.

Rana and Phi check in on their rats, then Rana tries to climb up to the molt (17) and tries to chuck it down to the ground. It feels like a chitinous fiberglass body and cracks a little bit when tossed down.

Rana nature checks 16 - the molt is maybe slightly smaller, she survival tracks purple’s prints (another 16), it went up at the top of the ridge, previously it was following along equally with the other two, so probably the results of that 3rd set of tracks.

Diem investigates the molt for burning and finds some, points it out to Rana. It’s definitely something left over from one of yesterday’s on-fire runners, possibly from one of the three we just killed, after they shed their damaged skin.

Molt is 10-15 lbs - Rana shoulders it.

We follow purple’s tracks back to the worm, confirming all three of the shriekers we just killed were involved in wormicide.

Rana leads us back to town from there.

We talk about the 3 we killed, the 2 that got away yesterday (and whether they are the same) and handling the infestation only until we feel confident the villagers can take care of the rest.

When we get back to town we go check on the albino shrieker, Ixayl'anu cracks the lid to see if it’s still there. Little snout pops out and snaps at her fingers, gets one of her plate-gauntleted fingers before she shuts the lid.

Rana and Ixayl'anu were paying attention enough with their nature rolls they notice it’s larger than yesterday but still not as big as the other guys. There’s definitely not enough space for another one in that box. It is still all white.

Ixayl'anu squeezes a ration in there with it - it’s like trying to feed a crocodile through the fence.

Rana climbs back up to last night’s roof and pulls out her mirror, studying where the mirror flashes were yesterday.

Phi looks around to see if the town looks empty still since we’ve been gone. 20 investigation: Town looks pretty close to how we had left things. As she gets closer to the camels, she hears the elk making angry elk noises, self consoling and all worked up.

Phi tries to parkour up the building near them.

Rana starts the mirror flashes for hey look here hey hey. Listen!

Diem: Maybe we could build a bonfire somewhere and see if it draws in any more of the little ones?

Rana: (while flashing hey hey pattern) Let’s check in with Edea and see if the town people want to return first.

Edea responds with a “here/listening” mirror glint.

Rana: “All clear maybe.”

Edea: “Okay to return?”

Rana: “Should be.”

Edea: “We’ll return.”

(Ixayl'anu's elk is a hero! Recognize!)

Back to Phi parkouring up building (14 - makes it up okay); looks out into the distance at what might be wrong, elk is tossing his head and claims more space than the camels who have edged away. When he sees Phi, he bugles something, trying to tell her something and stomps his hoof and brandishes his antlers.

Phi looks out into the distances with a 24 for threats. Nothing in the distance.

Phi: Down boy (assumes elk is just not happy, elk snorts at her as she leaves).

Phi comes back: Your elk is not liking the camels, or the camels don’t like your elk, something is going on down there.

Before Phi gets back, the elk telepathically says to Ixayl'anu: I defended the camels successfully, be proud of me! *smug* your camels are safe, there was a huge battle and I defended them well.

Ixayl’anu makes her way down there anyway. On the way she describes shriekers to the elk

Elk: No it was flying like a bird

Ixayl'anu: Was it a bird?

Elk: It was weird, but it was flying so it must be a bird.

Ixayl'anu looks up but doesn’t see anything.

Rana and Diem check in on their camels

Ixayl'anu tells us it wasn’t natural, but none of us see flying creatures.

Ixayl'anu to elk: How big was it?

Elk: It was as big as me!

Ixayl'anu relays this.

Ixayl'anu: Did it smell?

Elk: The camels smell...

Rana casts speak with animals and asks her camel what happened.

Her camel is very upset by something large attacking from the air. The elk did scare it off, but now he’s been showboating about it ever since and the camels just want out.

Rana: Have you seen the thing from the sky before

Camel: No

Rana casts stone shape and makes a 5X5 passage, 1ft off the ground, carefully leading camels through the doorway and handing them off to people. Rana is playing tetris with stonework and camels, and she tries to explain to them what she’s doing, guiding them out - 20 animal handling check.

Animal handling for our camels handed over (5 from Ixayl'anu, elk’s antlers get stuck), I get a 9, Phi gets a 4, they are just too eager to be out. Phi’s camel picks her up, holding onto halter lead and goes trotting off into the greenery.

Diem’s drags them away from quicksandy dead worm area in the opposite direction, further into town rather than toward brush, but Diem does manage to see a little throughway and eventually the camel heads that way, Diem going with it to the little oasis area.

Rana helps Ixayl'anu with the last camel to get it to the brush.

We take a short rest as we wait for Edea.

Diem keeps their eyes on the skies but only rolls a 5 on perception.

Rana does the same, rolls 12, but she’s more interested in playing with her rat and there’s a lot of leaves in the way besides.

(Townspeople Return)

We eventually hear/see Edea with the group of villagers heading into the main building from across the pond. We hear large exclamations.

Rana: I think she’s here.

We go with her.

Edea is impressed by our pile of bodies

Rana warns Edea about what the elk saw, but we haven’t seen any indication. We still don’t.

Edea: We’ll keep an eye out, we didn’t see anything on our way into town either.

Rana: Don’t know if you guys heard that shrieking last night?

Edea: Yep.

We catch her up to that and the molt, edea wants to see it.

Edea: I’ve never seen anything like these creatures but I certainly wouldn’t have expected them to molt.

Rana: They look mammalian to me.

Edea: They’re definitely not insects.

Rana: Oh yeah and Ixayl'anu found a pet.

Ixayl'anu: Oh yeah (something I missed for notes)

Rana fills Edea in about el blanco’s details.

Edea volunteers to take the molt off our hands to the other druids of her circle.

Rana: As far as we can tell they love fire and heat

Diem: We thought we might light a bonfire before we leave, make sure nothing else comes after it before we move on.

Edea studies el blanco, then wrangles it, mouth together and ropes it closed.

Edea: It’s definitely malformed, compared to the other ones.

Edea pokes at the flaps and peels them up a little bit, it screams and struggles more: It definitely sees via these organs. What are you planning on doing with this one?

Rana gestures at Ixayl'anu

Ixayl'anu: (More words I missed for notes) definitely doesn’t need to come with us anywhere, just thought it might be useful to study.

Edea: Well, this was always intended to be our splitting off point anyway.

Rana: Yeah, I can get them to Longview from here.

Ixayl'anu: Yeah if it’s useful to study, we can leave it here.

Edea: Yeah this and the molt could tell us quite a bit.

Ixayl'anu: Not attached, just holding onto it as something we can maybe do something with.

Rana: Camels are by the oasis, they made it through just fine.

We talk things over, Earl comes out and sees shrieker pile “What in tarnation is going on here?”

Rana: Feel free to add to the pile

Earl: Val come look at this!

Val comes out to look.

Our plan is to wait out the heat of the day/afternoon. Diem sets up a tiny hut and we inform Edea of as much as possible.

Edea is now treating us all as competent and she’s giving us more respect as a result.

We begin our trek out of the valley toward Longview, none of us catching on that Rana is taking us slightly off-path from our plans.

Encounter roll of 19 from Ixayl'anu.

(Thunderbird sighting)

As we get to the far side of this canyon, beginning to climb out of it, we can see a lot farther than before, more regular level desert, far off into the distance, 10-20 miles away a huge thunderstorm is brewing, lots of lightning it looks real bad.

Perception checks Diem 1, Ixayl'anu 5, 23 Phi, Rana 22

Rana (excited and worried both): We need to get under cover right now! We can’t be out in the open when that thing gets here. I have never seen one but I think this is a thunderbird. I don’t think it’ll bother us if we leave it alone, but we need to get out of its way.

Phi: Is that bigger than a roc?

Rana: About the same size. I have never seen one...though it looks about the size of a roc.

Survivals: Rana 13, Diem 8, Phi 18, Ixayl'anu 6

We don’t really find a good spot. We find an overhang though, but not a big enough space for the tiny hut. We manage to be out of line of sight. It was coming toward us as we were looking for a spot.

To Diem (perception 4) it’s like being caught out in a hurricane.

Rana tries to get a look 17, Phi 11, Ixayl'anu 20

This bird is mad, something has pissed it off.

Ixayl'anu to her elk: This isn’t the thing is it?

Elk: *huddled* no this is not what I saw

We’re soaked to the bone, but it’s a warm rain. We watch for a good hour or so, we see it make a couple of dives in the desert but not near Perfection.

Phi wonders aloud if it’s mad about these new abominations in its land and it’s come to take it back and wash it clean.

It makes a couple of passes over the valley and then goes back where it came from to the North.

Rana: *grinning* Let’s not do that again.

Diem: That was AWESOME

Ixayl'anu is excited about the lightning.

Diem takes a long time to prestidigitation us all dry.

Rana picks up the lead again.

Survival rolls to get our bearings again diem 6, Ixayl'anu 7, rana 10, phi 17 - we’re pretty confident Rana knows the way.

Rana knows it would take another full day to get to Longview and looks for a game trail toward it instead of Bouldergap as we had planned (not that any of us catch on to the fact we’re off course out here.

It takes us awhile and we’re meandering a little. It takes us past dusk before we find a suitable area and begin setting up camp.

Phi: Rana, I don’t even see this path anymore...

Rana: That’s because we’re not on it. I use this path all the time, we’re almost certainly not lost *smiling*

Phi: Alright I trust you.

Diem casts alarm around the animals, then summons the tiny hut, coloured to blend with the desert sand.

Rana nat 20s first watch. Coyotes in the distance, lovely night, natural sounds, everything’s peachy.

She’s in a good mood when she wakes Phi up: It’s a great night.

Phi: Happy to be home?

Rana: More than a little. I like Rethwellian but it’s a little too green for my tastes

Phi: Well so far this desert has been nice but also a little smelly sometimes

Rana: In our defense, it’s usually not like that, hopefully they’ll be gone soon, maybe that thunderbird washed them away.

Phi: Hopefully

Rana: Alright goodnight

Phi: Goodnight

Perception 26, nothing really changes though she’s not as comfortable as Rana is.

On Diem and Ixayl’anu’s watch, Diem recasts tiny hut. Ixayl'anu gets 7, Diem gets a 4. Diem draws a bad rendition of the thunderbird in their dream journal (maybe because they didn’t get to see it so well lol).

OOC we rule that Diem doesn’t have to worry about timing and recasting tiny hut moving forward, it’ll last for as long as we need it.

Nice clear morning, Rana is pumped and ready to go, already on the camel as we climb out of our bedrolls.

(Lost treasure on the sandy deer trails)

Rana rolls a 6 for encounters - a few hours in, 10/10:30 we come to a scattering of splintered wood and strewn wagon wrecks up ahead. Rana stops because this isn’t supposed to be here. Even with an 8 she sees a wagon wheel.

Ixayl'anu: What, what’s going on?

We get close and see the remains of wagons.

Diem: Think this could be that missing caravan?

Rana: It’s possible, but we’re no longer on that path.

Ixayl'anu goes over to look at identifying marks on crates/wagons/flags

Rana perception checks around the area, Diem goes with her (22, 11)

Phi helps Ixayl'anu. She notices the wood is bleached and weathered, sitting in the sun for years and years.

Ixayl'anu: How long does it take for wagons to start looking like this? Doesn’t it take awhile?

Rana walks up.

When Ixayl'anu scrapes it with a claw it splinters like over-dry wood

Rana 10 investigates it, and agrees - very weathered and bleached, flags are tattered and bleached, light pink maybe used to be red. Rana goes up to the 2nd wagon, Diem follows. It looks like it was a goods caravan, no animals, no people, no bones (but rolled low for that).

Diem got sand in their eye (1 investigating for bones)

We are following a loose trail of debris, Rana sees the inside protected by the cloth and she sees several other crates that have been pried open, contents taken. Rana pulls one crate out

Phi and Diem both roll low on this next part.

Rana nat 20s looking this crate over, tucked away behind that crate is another one that got overlooked, barely protected, it has a strange symbol on it like the barest suggestion of an inverted triangle made with little triangles at each point and leaf blades in the center curling out toward the leftmost triangle point from a braided crescent moon along the suggested triangle’s right side, tips of the crescent poking up out of the leftmost and top sides of the suggested triangle. Rana drags it out and takes a closer look. It seems kind of heavy. Whatever is in there is well padded, no shifting or sloshing etc.

Phi 14 perceives for traps. She sees it is locked with delicate filigree on it, meaning it’s probably a trap. Attempts to disable the trap (24).

We talk about how very lost they probably were, because as Rana points out, you do not go off trail, the desert is very dangerous, it will kill you, and while we were okay off trail with her, you definitely do not go off trail with a caravan.

Ixayl'anu: I get that but how far off trail are we?

Rana: We are inadvisably far off trail, but I know where I’m going.

Phi defeats the trap and inside she finds a large teapot of red enamel with a slightly demonic face on the side of it with a large ring in its nose. When she picks it up steam gently comes up and it is warm.

Rana looks in the box for more identification. 18 investigation.

Rana 17 history checks the triangle-moon symbol too - she’s not certain where she’s seen the symbol but it’s tip of her tongue - not quite familiar, but something. She finds a very old, weathered piece of parchment with “the meal wish cauldron” written on it, along with what it does.

By putting in 10 gold (or similar value of jewels - per person?), you bring forth a great feast, including magnificent food and drink. The feast takes 1 hour to consume and disappears at the end of that time, and the beneficial effects don't set in until this hour is over. Up to twelve creatures can partake of the feast.

A creature that partakes of the feast gains several benefits. The creature is cured of all diseases and poison, becomes immune to poison and being frightened, and makes all Wisdom saving throws with advantage. Its hit point maximum also increases by 2d10, and it gains the same number of hit points. These benefits last for 24 hours.

We package it away into our own supplies for now.

Rana: We’ll get to Longview before nightfall probably.

We travel an hour and a half more before we get back to the main road again, very well trafficked, just like Rethwellian’s main roads, it’s like going from a deer trail to a five lane highway.

Diem plays off the whole bad bitch native desert dweller guide, so fuck off vibe

As we get closer and closer to early evening we can see Longview.

(Welcome to Longview)

We are going to see a small town, big enough to know everyone but only if you lived here awhile. Somewhat of a farming community, gardens behind houses are common, in the shadow of the mountain, a bit more greenery here, but not as green as Rethwellian.

Taking the main road in, not stopping, just going through town - Rana clearly knows where she’s going. “Welcome to Longview.”

Phi: So were you born here?

Rana: Yeah, I grew up here.

One person on the road nods at Rana but they don’t stop and chat. They stare more at us than her.

Diem thinks it looks very cute and cozy

Rana’s interactions are limited to nods and waves

Phi: How long since you’ve been home?

Rana: At least 2 years

We notice nobody’s trying to catch up with Rana, Diem just assumes that’s because they know Rana well enough to know she’s not much of a talker and/or they’re all very similar to her in that regard.

As we pass the inn

Phi: Are we going to stay with your family maybe?

Rana: That is the plan, yes.

She takes us to her mom’s place, taking a left and immediately leaving Longview for its outskirts instead. Comparatively small homesteading with some sheep that want fed, a small kitchen garden, that’s pretty much it. We passed a lot of farms on the way here though. This one is only about 10 acres.

Rana glances around at some to do things while she’s here, but not a whole lot, some of the fencing could use repairing. She finds a place for their camels for water and food, ties them off. While everyone’s unloading she goes to feed the sheep.

Then she leads us to the door. We make enough noise out there though that a farm dog comes out barking, excited to see her, yipping, mom comes out the back “Oh Rana you’re back!” (older, husky sounding voice, from the city, little bit more cultured, wearing very nice clothes).

Rana turns around with a grin and runs to give her a big hug

Mom: I missed you so much

Rana: I missed you too

Mom: You brought friends

Rana: I brought friends!

Mom: Bring them inside

A feathered female dragonborn, a white-haired female gnome, and a big scary human woman who looks like she could break you.

Rana: we’re gonna need somewhere to stay for a night or two if that’s okay?

Mom: Sure

Rana: I fed the sheep and the camels, I haven’t fed anything in the stable yet though.

Mom: We have some sheep that are laming too.

Rana: It is good to see you - it has been way too long.

Mom: I did hear from your brother about events.

Rana: Oh! Did he get his message then?

Mom: All 3 of them. One right after another

Rana (grinning): I’ll have to fill him in, it’s been an eventful few months

Rana waves us over.

Rana leads the elk to sheep pen so it doesn’t eat mom’s flowers. It is way greener here than the other gardens in town. Plants here are very lovely.

Rana looks around: I’ll take care of the plants while I’m here too.

Mom: They always seem to enjoy your attentions. Introduce me to your friends?

She introduces us, stops at Diem, “Drop the disguise.”

Diem clearly forgot they were disguised, but does so, looks a little out of sorts after they drop the disguise rather than their easily sociable butterfly self.

Rana introduces each of us and where we’re from, Diem says their home is a small village in Rethwellian nobody’s really heard of, not important.

We are introduced to mom as Romy

Level up!

Next Session: Feb 20th 4pm est

#Anesh #Perfection #On the way to Longview #Tremors D&D #Shriekers #Graboids #Ass blaster sequel hook #Val #Earl #Edea #Thunderbird sighting #Mealwish Cauldron #We meet Rana's mom!#Romy #Level 8!

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darkballsofsight · 6 years

Text

Can't close the stable door after the horse has bolted

Redglare 02/05/2019

So there you stood, the two of you side by side outside of the entrance to the massive precinct and law housing. The construction on it managed to finish in a timeline manner despite all the crisis and setbacks. It was a marvelous sight, and it was the place you lovingly called home.

"So, what do you think? It's breathtaking, isn't it? Our offices and housing are all here in this massive building." You look up at him with you hands on your hips.

Darkleer 02/05/2019

It sure was a building. A nice one, yeah, nicer than most trolls on Alternia might have. Not exactly better than what you used to have, at times when you still had a hive. Not that you should really care about looks. You don't. You've housed in a tiny hut for the last couple of years- You notice her eyes are still on you. ..Uh, she's.. expecting you to say something, right. Praise it, even? "Ah. Yes. It's nice."

Terrible. You did a terrible job, Darkleer.

This is already awfully tedious and you regret ever coming. Hng.

Redglare 02/06/2019

You give him a nudge and jerk your head in the direction of the door, making your way in and leading him to follow.

"Oh come on! Think of all the space you'll have to tinker!" You flash him a grin.

Darkleer 02/06/2019

"Uh. Sure." You follow obediently. It just slowly dawns on you that you may be expected to move into here too? Oh. Hm.

Redglare 02/06/2019

You prop your cane in the crook of your elbow to free up a hand to open the double doors. You outstretch your arms in a grand fashion and beam.

"Welcome! This is-"

And out the corner of your eye you spy... The Queen's maidens.

Darkleer 02/06/2019

You realize too late that you could have should have helped her with the door, especially with her cane. Well, matter, you can easily reach over her and hold the door open, ready to follow whenever she enters.

Your senses immediately pick up on a few presences though. Quite a few. Not sure if you'd like to engage....

Redglare 02/06/2019

You feel the door being propped open for you and redistribute your weight to your cane once more. You're too stubborn to ever ask for a hand but it's appreciated regardless. You realize now, however, that you forgot to mention the queen had these handmaidens.

"Hello, ladies! We have a new man on the force, but you don't have to fuss over him just yet. I'll give him the tour and call for you if we need help with his luggage." You send them away with an appreciative smile, fearing that their presence would bring him additional stress too early. However, it was probably best he was introduced to them with you in his presence rather than being startled by them later.

Darkleer 02/06/2019

"A-ah, thank you, I won't... be needing help. I can handle the luggage. No need to bother anyone with it..." You greet them with a few hesitant nods, just enough to not have to look up to them. One hand moves to push up the shades covering up the cameras that make your eyes. No need to freak out any residents of this place this soon already.

Redglare 02/06/2019

"Sorry, I probably should have warned we were going to be greeted by them. I just got so used to their presence." With a final wave to them, you continued walking through what was formerly a very grand hotel and what was now the lobby for the precinct and your homes. You wonder on where to begin, and remember that yes, he is carrying his luggage around.

"Did you want to drop off your belongings before we get started? You're welcome to pick any room from any of the floors that has not yet been taken. I still haven't picked one myself, haven't been around much to do so even though my stuff has been sitting in storage..."

Darkleer 02/06/2019

"I can just leave them here if they bother you." You wouldn't mind carrying them around for as long as you need to. The weight means little to you.

"I don't need much in my accomodations in terms of uh, appliances or comfort. Just space. Maybe if you have something like an unused garage... Or basement.. that would do."

Redglare 02/06/2019

You give him a puzzled look for his comment. Bothering you? Goodness, no. You weren't the one that was carrying them.

"It's up to you, they're your bags. As for the space you need..." You give it some thought and realize all you had seen in the building when scouting for a potential room were the residential wards and the kitchen.

"We could do a bit of exploring during the tour to figure that out, because I have no idea. Perhaps I can give Her Majesty a call and see what we can figure out for you."

Darkleer 02/08/2019

"I will hold onto them... for now. Until I find a good place to put them down. They would only be in the way here." You don't mind the prospect of exploring the place. Actually, you'd much rather do that for a whole day than having to consult anyone else around here but ah. That's not up to you. Guess you'll do the thing that normal people do and... talk with people.

"That would certainly make things easier." As long as she handled the call.

The thought of encountering Her Majesty runs a shiver down your spine. From all you've heard so far, the Prospitian queen seems friendly enough. But your last experience with directly serving under a ruler's order has been, well, subpar.

Redglare 02/10/2019

You nod your head and continue your walk, trying to decide what wing to start in first. This building was... a lot bigger than you remembered. "Of course I'll make the call, but you've got to meet her eventually you know."

You look behind and smile at him, a taunting grin that he had seen many times before, but it quickly melted into a warmer smile.

"She's absolutely wonderful. I feel such a sense of calm in her presence. Oh, you. I am so glad to have you here. Can you imagine how strange it feels to be, well, how many sweeps old are we now?" You ramble on in your excitement as you pick a hallway to lead him down. It took you a bit to remember but you think the kitchen is this way. It shouldn't be too busy at this time, you managed to time the tour when most have already had their breakfast and clocked into work. You also think it a good time to bring up what you and Pembrooke had spoken about just last night. "Something to help you get settled, I've got a potential job for you."

Darkleer 02/10/2019

"Too many.." you just reply.

You didn't exactly keep track of your age, especially recently. But you could easily figure out the exact number if you bothered. But what you have learned by now is that no creature should be allowed to last this long, for the sake of everyone else and themselves.

You quietly follow, carefully taking in any detail you can spot. If you're expected to reside here from now on, you should know your way around this place.

A job already? Well, you're not going to complain. Having something to keep you busy would be nice. You're just a bit surprised and possibly overwhelmed at how fast everything seems to happen. "What do you have in mind?"

Redglare 02/12/2019

"Too many indeed, but I'm finally feeling as if I'm doing something worthwhile with the rest of my sweeps. Not that what I tried before my disappearance wasn't but... Look you know what I mean." You give off a chuckle as you continue down the halls. You point out to him and explain each room of importance as you pass. Some were for meetings, some were offices. Some were gathering halls and eateries, and of course, the kitchen.

"Well, when I ducked out last night, I meant with Pembrooke to discuss all that happened since my absence. The force has got a bunch of tech from the enemy lines, which is great timing for your arrival. Is it within your skillset to track down what hands it's all been in and who produced it?"

Darkleer 02/13/2019

"Hm. I will.. have to see the tech. I work well with marechines, but to be honest, it is neigh impossible to keep up with all facets of programming and manufacturing that a single species can come up with. Let alone two or three..."

Ah. She hopefully didn't put all her hopes into you for this, did she? Hh.. You can do a lot of heavy duty and... build machines for heavy duty. You're also good at following leads, but it turns out the world develops far too quick for an old horse like you to keep up.

"I-I will take a look. It may be a very simple and obvious case. And if it's not, I will learn what is necessary.."

You hate to disappoint her, but it may already be far too late for that. Breaking news, you're not that great.

Skylla 02/13/2019

Yer name's Skylla Koriga and you've just changed out of yer uniform after a good day of woofbeast trainin'. Also patrol duty which wasn't all that great, but hey least nothing bad happened this time round.

You were planning on taking a small walk 'round the city; it sure is a big ol' city after all; and thus are in the hallway when ya spy Madam Redglare with....

Wait that ain't a Zahhak. Least ain't one ya know ya reckon.

Darkleer 02/14/2019

Well, your horns and size should definitely betray you as a Zahhak.

You spot her quickly. A future co-worker, probably. A bronzeblood, is she? By far not a small or frail looking one, but smaller than you regardless - and a lowblood. You're aware that blood castes are supposed to matter little in this city and you've long tried to leave the expectations and prejudices pounded into you by centuries of imperialistic indoctrination behind (emphasis on tried). But you can't assume that automatically means she is fine with your presence.

You hunch over a little, more or less consciously making yourself smaller, and turn your otherwise motionless face away.

"Good marening.."

Feferi 02/14/2019

You're name is Feferi Piexes and you are trotting down the hall from the other direction with a spring in your step. you spot Chief Redglare and suddenly feel more anxious. No doubt the inspector reported your folly with the with whole Eidan situation to her and it worries you that you are on thin ice with her. "Oh! H-hi Chief. Welcome home," you say with a bit of a worried smile. "ah and hello, sir," you greet the large Zahhak looking man with her. Wait, is he a Zahhak? Those horns are well, tall but very similar.

Darkleer 02/14/2019

Another guest arrives. Which isn't quite correct. You're the guest and this is their home.

You hear her approach right away, but you only turn around when she actually speaks up - and immediately freeze. A seadweller, and a fuchsia one on top. Such a young one, too.

A- and in a servicing position? She called Redglare 'chief'. Hh, that. Is going to take a while to wrap your mind around.

"Hhhell. O. Good mare- mer- ..rning."

Your eyes would go wide if you still had any. Unfortunately, your voice still betrays you. God, what a first impression.

Redglare 02/14/2019

Disappointed? You were nothing of the sort. You instead give a hearty laugh and nod your head at him. "I understand. Or rather, I don't! Which is why I thought to ask you. Just a simple look into it is more than enough for your first task, might be a good way for you to get to know who we're up against."

You were about to open your mouth to say something else but you were greeted by two of your officers. You worry their presence may overwhelm Darkleer, but now was a better time than any to get them aquainted in a relaxed fashion.

You give a way to the first troll that approached the two of you. "Hey there, officer. Apologies I didn't let you know right away I made it back, I know I still owe you lunch."

You turn and bow your head to Feferi, wondering if she was harbouring any fears for bumping into you. Her stammering gave it away. You simply wave and offer a warm greeting in return. "Hello, officer. Thank you, it's good to be back."

"These are two of the officers assigned to the precinct." You offer to Darkleer, looking at him to check for any signs of discomfort.

Skylla 02/15/2019

The need to defend yourself-- physically or verbally-- from the older bluebood is real strong in ya, but then he falters upon seeing Feferi, who also shows up and you take that moment t' reign in yer emotions. It ain't fair of ya t' assume this blueblood will be like those from home. Ya gotta take that chance right??

So you relax yer stance and give him, Fef and Chief a real pleasant smile. "Howdy Chief! Ya ain't gotta worry ' bout none o' that now!"

"And always nice t' meet a new lawfolk Sir! Officer Skylla Koriga at yer service!~"

You wonder how he's related to the Zahhaks if at all; same hatch cluster??

Feferi 02/15/2019

The fact that she's smiling at you and everything sort of only makes you more nervous. You nod to her then offer a hand to the newcomer, "Nice to meet you. I'm Officer Ferferi Piexes."

Darkleer 02/15/2019

Redglare knows you well enough to discover some signs of mild discomfort in you, which means your actual levels of discomfort are through the roof.

You just barely resist the urge to kneel before the young heiress. (Does she even qualify as such *more importantly does even want that do you even have any right to question any of that-)

Judging from the interaction with Redglare, a handshake seems to be the appropriate reaction. While your thoughts arw racing, you manage to make yourself take her hand, soft and careful to not risk hurting her, but somewhat incredibly stiff.

(It doesn't help that the Empress you served under would have gladly seen you licking her boots how could anyone possibly be expect you how to properly handle his situation and oh god did she say Peixes just like--)

"It's. A pleasure. I'm the Ex- Expatriate. Darkleer. Zahhak."

Feferi 02/15/2019

Expatriate? That is an odd title for someone to give themself but you aren't going to judge or make assumptions without hearing his story. A story you are in fact, absolutely curious about. "I look forward to working with you Mr. Zahhak!" you say cheerfully, trying to be something of your regular self in spite of your worry that the chief is going to reconfirm the inspector's admonishments and worse.

Skylla 02/16/2019

Expatriate? Ain't that meaning he be living outside his native land?? Hey just cause ya sound like a country bumpkin it don't mean ya don't know what them big words means! You reckon that he meant t' say a different title; but it ain't the time t' bother the blueblood 'bout it.

"Any relation t' them other Zahhaks we gots here Mr. Darkleer Sir?"

Darkleer 02/16/2019

Indeed, there is a different title. Once your whole pride and life, it feels even more shameful to wear than the one denoting you as the traitor and coward you ultimately are.

"I have... been told about them. I have yet to meet them." You cannot confirm or deny any relation to either of them, but considering the name and blood and apparent similarity. Well uh. It's an obvious case.

Skylla 02/16/2019

Hey to be fair to ya, it's only when ya got t' Midnight City that ya been seeing trolls of similar blood n type; it ain't common at all back on Alternia considerin' that ya don't got what the humans calls "siblings." And the blueblood before ya is loads of sweeps older for sure; it's not that obvious t' you.

"Well reckon they'd be mighty interested t' meet ya! Hope it goes well then Sir."

Redglare 02/16/2019

You watch with pride as the interactions between the three go swimmingly, hoping that his exposure to both a lowblooded troll and the highest of royalty in the same breath would have him come to realize how different things were in Midnight City. Castes of blood were almost inconsequential here, it was only irony that you, as a teal blood, found yourself in a roll similar to that which you once held.

"It's a good thing we all bumped into each other. I wasn't so sure how to surprise you all with his presence, but finding him was the cause of my being away. He's a good friend of mine, and I'm happy to have him on the force." You say with a beaming grin to your two officers. Yes, you had mentioned his descendants to him, and although you agree in their potential interest in meeting their ancestor, he still seemed apprehensive about their meeting.

You saw the signs of discomfort welling up in your dear friend, but hoped that this informal welcome would wash them away. He was difficult to read at times, and you worry that his self loathing was likely to remain as it had all these sweeps. But in due time you knew it in your heart that he'd come to love it here and dedicate himself to the force.

You look back to them after reaching to give him a gentle pat on the arm. "You two off duty now? I was trying to think of where else to bring him on our little tour. Still don't know my own way around here, so I'm doing a bit of discovery myself." You figure it best to set aside work business for now, the stress of the upcoming war must be on everyone's minds and you figure a bit of lighthearted banter and conversation would do everyone, including the ever-nervous Darkleer, some good.

Feferi 02/17/2019

"Oh yeah I am at the moment. My shift was earlier today," you say. "But if there's anything you need I'm happy to help."

Skylla 02/17/2019

"Same; was gonna go walk 'round town but reckon there's still loads of places t' check out right here." Come t' think of it, has the Chief moved in yet? You're sure she's got a home but ya haven't actually seen her round.... then again, she is the Chief so she probably real busy. Like PI!

"Well, we gots the weights n exercise room, as well as the rooftop areas n whatnot!" You suggest helpfully. "What places have ya both already been t'?"

Darkleer 02/18/2019

Oh, you're realizing how different things are here. You've most likely already noticed by observing some people out on the street on the way here. But this? Cultural shock would be an understatement.

Redglare's pat on your arm is not enough to actually calm you down by far, but manages to startle you out of yet another anxious-ridden train of thought. Ah. They're tagging along. Joy.

"Nowhere, really, besides the hallway.." Not to put Redglare on blast. You're just stating the facts. "We were on the way to the kitchen." The exercise room actually sounds tempting, but you'll probably get to that one sooner or later.

Feferi 02/19/2019

"There's also a pool. But I guess at this time of year I'm the only one who likes the water even when it's indoors," you say. On one hand more people hanging out at the pool with you would be great but at the same time, it was kinda nice that you mostly had it to yourself.

Redglare 02/19/2019

"That would be my fault, the direction less wandering." You laugh at Darkleer's throwing you under the bus, but don't take it to heart. You considered it an accidental light jest more than anything.

"A room for excercising and a pool, eh? We really do have everything here. More like luxury resort than a precinct, but I'm not complaining. Suppose I can show off the kitchen first, and then let either of you show us to where you'd like?" You motion for the two officers to continue along with you and Darkleer, thinking the invitation was only polite.

Skylla 02/20/2019

"I'm rather partial to the rooftops really." You admit a bit sheepishly. "Once the warm weather rolls on in, reckon me 'n the Inspector are gonna go abouts plantin' a rooftop garden. There's certainly the space for it! Though the gym is also pretty neat too." Gotta keep on workin' t' keep in shape after all! And also ya can't swim. Sorry Fef!

You're proud t' say you only hesitate a little before taggin' along. It still feels real weird t' be doin' this with highbloods that aren't tryin' t' kill ya.

Darkleer 02/20/2019

"I doubt the pool would be suitable for me.. though it is wonderfoal that such options are provided." You follow along towards the kitchen. In passing you glance briefly at the young Peixes, then at the lowblood, which.. is probably not the right term to refer to her as here, and you feel the rising sensation of wanting to make yourself even smaller.

"Gardens on the roof.. I did not think that is feasible, but that is a creative and efficient use of space."

Redglare 02/20/2019

Redglare's eyebrow raised at the mention of the rooftop garden. It sounded like something out of a movie. You've probably only tended to one plant in your life, and even that you were lucky it survived, but it sounded like something you wanted to be a part of.

The irony of this strange spectrum of trolls parading the hallway still hadn't left you, and you all held positions that would have never worked in Alternian standards, maybe save for yours.

"We have the space for all of it, I think it's great we've made a community out of the different branches of the force." You all managed to make it to where the kitchen was located, and point it out. "Y'know, I've been to this part. But I hadn't stepped foot in the dining room yet."

Feferi 02/20/2019

"Wow I didn't know about the garden. Not surprised though. Her majesty seemed to cover everything when she got this place for the force," you smile. "I'll bet she'd got a library or somefin else unexpected somewhale in this hotel."

Horuss 02/20/2019

You are one Horuss Zahhak and you are currently loitering within the kitchen of the dorms, of which you are neigh a permanent resident but you accepted the offer of a secondary accommodation for when it was too unreasonstable or you were simple unstable to return to your own stable, a good arrangement, certainly there was quite a bit of value to the idea.

Anyways you hoof just finished a particularly eventful shift and are taking the time to relax and unwind and get yourself something to eat, manely a salad of mixed vegetables and a few pieces of fruit afterwards. It is very difficolt to miss the collection of trolls making their hay into the room you currently inhabit so you do neigh.

You recognize two of them by introduction, one by reputation and choose to be wilfully in denial about the identity of the last and the far too numerous similarities between himself and you and Equius detailing a definitive possibility, certainty even, to his identity. Lovely. You nod to the group, "Greetings," then take a bite of a piece of tomato, technically a fruit but still allowed within the classification of what is acceptstable for salad.

Darkleer 02/21/2019

The mention of 'her highness' puts you at unease once more. You have yet to meet her, but your experiences people in power, especially of the female variant, have been franky abyssmal. But. She wasn't Her Imperial Condescension, and the people around here spoke of her with admiration, so... maybe she was quite alright.

You quietly follow, occupied by your thoughts and worries, until your group reaches the kitchen. You immediately recognize him, of course. Mostly because it has been pointed out to you more than once that your very descendants are abou, else you might have been inclined to deny his existance as much as he does. You've already been dreading the day you meet them, but you absolutely weren't prepared for that to be today.

You freeze up just outside the door as your everything revolts at the mere thought of making even another step forward and having to confront your very own legacy.

Redglare 02/22/2019

Ah! The timing of this couldn't be more awkward. Another new officer you had yet to meet to get to know, and of course he's one of the Zahhak's you had mentioned to Darkleer. You've heard great things about his work so far, and while you're happy to finally meet with him, you fear it might be too soon for your dearest friend.

Did he just bite into a tomato?

"Hey there, officer. You must be Horuss. My apologies for not having met with you yet, I'm Chief Redglare." Your assumption was most likely correct from the matching horns. You notice that while Darkleer fought through his anxiety to greet the other two you had caught up with, he had yet to manage even a hello at the troll before them. You give him a tiny nudge with your elbow.

Feferi 02/22/2019

"Oh hi Horuss!" you greet him warmly. Looking around you remember you need to go pick up some food your lusus wants. "I've got to go, but I'll see you all later. Nice you meet you!" you tell the newest Zahhak before waving to all and heading off.

Horuss 02/22/2019

A singular ear flicks backwards before returning to a mare neutral position in a quick motion as you notice the... other Zahhak freeze utterly and completely. Neigh too impressive for an initial face-to-face reaction, neigh too impressive insteed. Your attention shifts away decisively as Redglare's words request your attention.

"Insteed, Horuss Zahhak, pleasure to meet you Chief." Your words to Redglare are ones with a polite, respectfoal difference as befitting to speaking with a superior. "There is neigh need for apology for being occupied with other duties."

"A pleasant hay to you Feferi," you offer the seadweller as she makes her departure of the group.

Skylla 02/23/2019

Aw well shit. Now yer on yer own with two much older and far higher trolls. Least Horuss is here though ya reckon he don't look all that pleased t' be seeing the Expatriate. It ain't none of yer business though so ya ain't gonna bring it up.

Instead ya give Horuss a wave in greeting. "Howdy Partner! How ya been??"

Horuss 02/24/2019

"I hoof been well enough, Miss Koriga, thank you for the inquiry," words accompanied by a nod in her direction. "I trust the hays hoof been treating you kindly in return?"

Darkleer 02/26/2019

It is indeed to much for Redglare's dearest friend. Horuss' noteable refusal to ackowledge you was both a relief and a painful sting into the exact fear that almost kept you from coming in the first place. Maybe he just didn't recognize who you are, which honestly would probably be the best for all involved. Or if he chooses to ignore you, well, so be it.

The little elbow nudge manages to snap you out of your paralysis, though possibly in opposite effect than she intended. While your descendant is distracted with the bronze-blood you turn at Redglare. "I, uh. Will wait elsewhere. Excuse me."

Redglare 03/04/2019

You're dismayed at this turn of events. Perhaps you set your expectations too high, perhaps you didn't know your officers as well as you thought. You also curse yourself for having this idea in your head about someone you had not yet met. Maybe Horuss was just as shocked to see his ancestor yet lives as Darkleer was surprised to hear about his descendents? Still, you feel guilty that the first meeting did not go pleasantly.

You look up to get a reading on Darkleer's face and manage a small smile and concern in your voice. "We could leave them to catch up and continue on our tour if you'd like. I'm sure Skylla could catch up later to us later to show off what she wanted."

Darkleer 03/04/2019

Yet again you're a coward. In a situation where much less is at stake, admittedly. But a a coward still. And what a disappointment you must be to the young Zahhak - if not yet, then definitely now.

Fortunately, at least Redglare is merciful on you and your pathetic plight. "That.. would be favorable, yes" you nod, eyes strongly fixated on the Chief so you don't have to see Horuss' reaction.

Horuss 03/04/2019

You are neigh disappointed by the turn of events, to be disappointed you would hoof needed to hoof high hopes of some kind and your expectation about this particular for-mare improbability had been completely neigh-existent. You are neigh too surprised to see him connect the Zahhak name with coward once mare though, it is, something you know how to deal with.

You do neigh allow yourself a STRONG outwards reaction, you are going to keep your polite and professional difference to the situation at hoof and allow him the retreat he wishes.

Redglare 03/06/2019

You offer an understanding smile and nod your head. With a hushed tone, "I can come up with something for our departure."

You hold up your hand to both officers and betray non of your internal emotions. Instead, you appear as your usual excitable and tired self when you call out to them. "We're gonna let the two of you catch up and keep going with our exploration! We've got a lot of ground to cover on Darkleer's first day. It was good to see you officers, I'll make sure to get better aquainted with you both."

Skylla 03/07/2019

"So far so good Partner!~" Ya chuckle, forgettin' for a moment that there's two Ancestors in the same space as yerself n Horuss. Though ya gotta admit, he be actin' real polite-like; like way more than normal.

Then yer Chief speaks up and yer reminded real quick 'bout the situation yer in. Ya wouldn't mind chatting up Horuss but ya don't wanna bug him neither. And yet ya reckon ya ain't quite ready t' be on yer own with two much older highbloods.

" Ah... is that right?? Well if Partner here don't mind a bit o' company...?"

March 12, 2019

Horuss Last Tuesday at 12:07 PM

Ah, that truly confirms it for you. Darkleer, you know that name near better than your own. Hmmm, seems you were right to hoof long discarded any want you previously had to gain... whatever the Empire had wanted you to in regards to him. You nod at the Chief's words focusing on Skylla and completely dismissing the two elder trolls, allowing your ancestor his retreat. "I do neigh mind the company Miss Koriga."

Darkleer Last Tuesday at 5:52 PM

Ah. Hh. She mentioned your name. Well, it wasn't much but of a secret, but now he knows for sure. Hn.

"Thank you." You step back a little, then anxiously wait for Redglare to join you and guide you around.

#logs

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stupidgamer48 · 6 years

Text

Episode 46 has come and gone and someone is here for one day and gives me a damn heart attack. Just as bad as the others, I swear.

After a long night’s rest, the Nien wake up at around high noon (heh) the following day and begin to figure out what their plans will be for the next few hours or so. Caleb decides to stay on the boat while the others go into town, still attempting to recover emotionally from the previous day’s events. Jester walks in on their conversation and seems...off? Fjord and Jester talk about how each sort of...disappeared in different ways the day before. It is mostly awkward and the group joins in.

As they all speak, the realization that half of everyone blames themselves for what happened comes to the surface. Clay says that he does not think that anyone did anything wrong and that what happened just sort of happened. He believes they all did well and tells the group that they should not beat themselves up over the previous events. His speech (much more eloquently put than this summery) slowly seems to lift some of the weight off of the shoulders of the Nien. While some of it lingers, it is not as heavy.

Fjord notices several warships that are docked at the port and speaks to a nearby soldier what is happening. He discovers that the war between the EMpire and Xhorhas is getting worse. He also realizes Felderwin, a town further inland that the party passed by, was attacked by the Xhorhaus empire.

Making their way into town for breakfast, they find a meadery selling a large amount of food and spirits for the people of the port and the soldiers. Yasha eventually joins them, a bit miffed about being woken up and not invited to join, and they all discuss as to what to do after they leave. Fjord wants to visit that temple he saw in his dream, if the group is willing.

As he talks about the soldiers in town when Jester asked, Nott finds out about the town and tells the group that she is from Felderwin. Beau reveals that she grew up near in a town near. Yasha learns that her old home were the reason for the attack and seems mutely shocked.

Yasha slowly opens up that she was worried when the group disappeared. She looked across the whole room to figure out where they went. She says she does not need anything because everything she has is here now. Nott/Sam teases her and she reveals she wasn’t even sure the group wanted her to be in the group.

As this happens, back on the boat, Caleb casts alarm and his hut in his room. He examines some of the loot he got, including the sphere that has now reset itself. He examines the books and finds some new spells and a book about debate from the issues of the time before the calamity.

As the rest of the Nien come back to the ship and settle for the day, they set sail back to the sea. As they move, rain begins to fall, steadily turning into a proper storm and the crew is forced to push through it, since going around would put several days on their travel. As they force their way in, Beau talks to Jester alone and does compliment her when she says that she is a good liar, quoting her from something she had said the day before, because it takes one to know one. She reassures Jester that it is ok to be sad and that she knows what it is like to be alone as a child. She says that she admires Jester for staying creative and not angry through her loneliness, as Beau had done when she was growing up. As Beau leaves, Jester hugs her and Beau returns the affection, letting her know that she loves her.

Yasha stands atop the deck while everyone moves around, entranced by the storm. She becomes overtaken by the weather and kneels to it. She begins to go through her memories of her home. She sees a woman she once knew, both alive and dead in the flash of light. From a lovely smile and feeling to a horrifying figure and pain. Another memory, a figure and storm speaks to her of loss. Another scene of dead bodies and her bloody sword being clutched in her hands. A red being like that of a demon calls her the Orphan Maker. The voice that spoke to her about loss tells of loss’s strength and weaknesses as the thunder swells in sound. The storm before her in her dreams being created for her.

She is brought back into reality and lightning strikes the front of the ship. Instead of broken wood, a creature of darkness with Yasha’s height appears and makes its way towards her. Wings like lightning behind it. It attacks her with no warning.

Those on the deck of the ship only see a ball of light where the creature stands. Fjord has heard tales of ball lightning, something similar to what he and others see. Yasha sees its true form. Yasha unfurls her wings and fights back.

After a strenuous battle, Yasha survives with one hit point and tells Jester about what she saw: her home, her memories, and the monster. Yasha, at Jester’s recommendation, talks to Clay about her battle. Clay asks what she is going to do now. She does not know. Clay warns her that running towards something without knowing why you are running can be dangerous but also says they will probably encounter her goal, though lost, very soon.

Yasha reflects on her memories and the fight as she reaches the deck of the ship, the rain having mostly dissipated at that point. Jester asks Yasha what made her leave her home in the first place. She said she had to leave because she did something that wasn’t “the right thing to do” according to her tribe. She says that, in her tribe they make a blood oath to the tribe and their leader, a matriarch known as the and a new name. Her’s was the Orphan Maker and, eventually, given a mate as appointed by her home. Yasha, however, says she fell in love with a woman named Zuella, a woman not chosen by the tribe and married her. However, the tribe found out and the punishment for what they did was death. Her wife was murdered by the tribe and Yasha ran. She says she is a coward but Jester disagrees.

She admits she remembers little after she left, feeling and looking different when she woke up at the alter of the Storm Lord. She wants to be better to repay the kindness of him saving her from an unknown threat. Jester asks if he healed her heart but Yasha does not think her heart would ever be healed but she is fine with that if that means Zuella stays with her. She wants to find the grave of her wife back home and give the flowers she has collected to her.

Yasha says, after losing those she loves like Zuella and Molly, she might be unlucky or cursed and she doesn’t even believe in luck. But, Jester says that even if Molly is gone he is still with her like her lovely Zuella. Yasha thanks them for listening and asks for them to keep it quiet, to which they agree.

The ship sails forward until they spot land, three pieces of mass off in the distance and send Frumpkin out to examine the ground and water around it. After some time in the water, Frumpkin spots a tower. Nearby is some movement of humanoid bodies tangled in the seaweed. They look around but can not find any more dangers around. Fjord casts breath underwater and instructs the crew to leave if they see any danger. As they make their way down, Clay notices an aquatic like creature with humanoid appendages with one that moves like an octo-fied Frumpkin. They attack one of the creatures, killing it an alerting the others.

After the battle, Fjord sends a specter he made towards the tower to scout ahead. After some time and little event, Fjord makes his way towards the building, being spotted by something similar to a crab creature. He sends the specter inside and, as they listen, Clay hears stone, slashing and then silence coming from inside. Peaking in, three creatures of crablike proportion are spotted. Eventually, they work their way into the tower.

As they slowly work their way into tower, the cold water of the ocean floor seeps further into their body. With some bonds growing stronger at the reveal of information as others grow taut at the secrecy of others, the group nears the, foreseeable, end to Fjord’s background and his strange connection to Uk’atoa’s balls. There is something waiting within the depths of these waters, consequences of their actions and impulses left unknown until they unfold before the party. The Nien are forced to question what may lay ahead of them and what unholy secrets they may discover.

Guys, it has been a pleasure making these reviews over the last few months and interacting with you and seeing the responses you all have for recent episodes. I only recently got into the community and I feel I have been made better for it. You all are wonderful and I can’t wait to see you in the next year.

Do not forget, tomorrow is Liam’s holiday one shot! Tune in to see what shenanigans they get into. From what some of them have to say, it is very interesting.

Here’s to bright future’s, big smiles, and good times with some hell to be raised.

And, until next year, is it Thursday yet?

I love you all and hope you have a happy holidays!

#critical role #ren shut up #crs2 #cr recap #critical role recap

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3000wordsandnolife · 7 years

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Vale Dominus- Chapter 3

And this is the final chapter I’ve written so far. Haven’t had much time, having immediately started work on other stuff. More info on that soon!

The four walked out into the courtyard, which immediately stood out as odd to the newcomers. Though they had entered the building at dusk, the entire courtyard was lit up as if it was the middle of the day, with the other side of the fences teeming with people walking past.

For a second, Piranha wondered if he had somehow lost eight hours of his life as time has gone forwards, but that thought was quickly dispelled as a frisbee hurtled as if it was going to fly over the fence, but instead bounced off something invisible, causing a ripple in the outside scene, like a stone skimming over a watery surface. Before Piranha or Joker could even ask, they were ushered over by the other two to people sat on a bench, who glanced up at them, then promptly did a double-take.

“What the…” The closest one said, a blond man with muscles threatening to burst through his plain t-shirt. Piranha was surprised the fabric was even holding together. He also couldn’t stop staring, and desperately scrambled for something else to look at. Glancing around, he noticed that the other people in the courtyard seemed to be training, but not in any way he’d ever seen. Rather than combatting each other in normal ways, most seemed to be relying on strange abilities, split-second reflexes causing people to move incredibly quickly. His eyes widened as a burst of flames shot into the air, coming from one of the other people’s hands. It almost seemed too weird to be true, and if it wasn’t for his own abilities, he wouldn’t believe it was happening at all.

“Looks like they did their job for you, Finite. They turned up about ten minutes ago at the front doors.” Knows said, grinning. The other man glanced up from underneath his dark hair, and Piranha saw the clear scar on his neck, as if a blade had been drawn across it. He considered asking about it, but thought better of it as he saw the man’s tired eyes. He got distracted by Finite standing up very stiffly and offering a hand out in a handshake, looking slightly uncomfortable as he did so. Joker took the hand uncertainly, and it was shaken by Finite as if he didn’t know how to shake a hand at all.

“Hello, I’m Finite, and this guy is Icronic.” Finite mumbled, glancing back at Icronic as he did so. “He’s my…” Finite paused for a second, then finished the sentence with the word “Partner” right as Icronic finished the sentence himself with the word “Boyfriend”. The two glanced at each other for a second, and Finite blushed. Piranha and Joker just awkwardly looked away, as the silence lurked in the air. “Yeah, they’re always this awkward.” Valms said, the first that the two had heard him speak. “You’ll get used to it.” With these words, Finite snapped back to attention, remembering what he was supposed to be doing.

“We’re the scouts. We track down anyone with abilities, and we bring them back here so they can train themselves safely.” Finite said, producing a list of names from a back pocket, before crossing off two of them. “You two were actually on our list, so you’ve saved us some time by coming here.” He added, before putting the paper back away and looking up at them with a smile that seemed slightly forced.

“Wait, how did you know about us?” Joker asked, and Piranha nodded in agreement, remembering that he had done his best to keep himself hidden over the years. Icronic was the one to respond this time around, before Finite had a chance to.

“We’ve got a huge machine in the basement that tracks everyone with abilities in the world.” Icronic said, in a monotonous voice that went well with his tired expression. Piranha wondered how Icronic and Finite had even gotten together, but before he could comment, Joker’s words shook him from his thoughts.

“Wow, you have a machine that can do that?” He said excitedly, glancing between everyone. Valms was shaking his head in disbelief, and Knows was shuffling awkwardly. Finite was struggling not to laugh, and Icronic was as deadpan as ever.

“No. We just keep up with the news and look for unusual stuff.” Icronic admitted, smirking as he did so. Joker blushed, embarrassed, and Finite disguised his laughter as a coughing fit. Piranha was just standing there, refusing to admit that he had also believed that the machine could have been a real thing. Icronic tapped on a tablet that was in front of him for a few seconds, before sliding it over to the two. It showed the front of two newspapers, and Piranha immediately found himself taken back as he saw the front of the gas station pictured in one of them. All at once, it was like he was there again, the metal tang of blood in his mouth and the panic in the atmosphere. He reminded himself of how long ago this had been, and glanced over at Joker. Joker, unlike Piranha, was smiling warmly as he looked at the newspaper clipping, which showed a woman on the front. He recalled how he had saved her, and was glad to see she had not only managed to be okay, but had also been able to benefit from the experience. “Piranha and Joker. You two really live up to your names, you know.” Icronic said to them, before sliding the tablet back to himself. “If I had known you were together, we would have looked for you a lot more.” Piranha and Joker shook their heads rapidly at this, stammering out their responses and denials, before Icronic laughed. “I didn’t mean like that.” He chuckled.

“We just met up a few hours ago.” Joker said, and Piranha nodded along as he looked around again. “We then decided to look for the institute together.” As Joker said this, Finite looked up, his eyes widening slightly as he did, as he remembered something important.

“Knows, have you taken these guys to see Leuil and Nel yet?” He asked, and Knows shook his head in response. “Not yet. I don’t really think they need to see Rusanel at all yet, do they?” Knows asked in response, and Valms shrugged. Piranha glanced between the four, before glancing over at Joker and being slightly relieved to see he wasn’t the only one who was incredibly confused.

“I need to pick up something from Leuil, so we definitely need to go to see him.” Valms said. “Apart from that, I wouldn’t say they really need to go anywhere.”

Leuil’s workplace stood out in the courtyard, a ramshackle-looking shed sat in the corner, as large as a garage, but with only one small door leading inside. Before Piranha and the rest had even gone in, the smell of motor oil and sounds of machinery hit him like a truck, and he grimaced. However, as everyone piled through the door and entered the hut, the atmosphere outside seemed to be the complete opposite of the inside. It was actually tidy and clean, with machinery venting the fumes to the outside. Piranha stared in disbelief at how sizable the room seemed to be, looking even larger than it had from the outside. A ladder led up to an upper floor that overlooked the area the group stood in, and a figure popped his bespectacled head out from over the railing, looking over the entire group. Whilst he definitely seemed to be as old as the rest of them, his face was youthful, joyous and had a sense of mischief, which his personality only added to as he spoke up.

“You remembered my birthday, Knows!” Leuil said happily, before hopping over the fence and dropping the six feet down to the ground floor, landing in a crouch before straightening himself up. He immediately made his way to Piranha and Joker, before ushering them to stand in the middle of the room as he examined them all over. “And two hunky guys too, how generous of you!” He grinned, and Piranha felt his face grow hot. He could feel Leuil’s eyes glancing all over his body, and had to resist the urge to move his hands and cover himself.

“It’s not your birthday, Leuil.” Valms said flatly, as if talking to a child. Leuil simply pouted in response.

“Does that mean I don’t get to keep them? And I had so many plans for the pink-haired one.” If Piranha’s face had felt hot before, it now felt as if it was on fire, as Leuil practically whispered the second line in his ear. Leuil walked around back into their view, and the two relaxed. “All joking aside, I guess you two are new to the institute. Everyone comes here at some point.” Leuil looked over the two again, before snapping his head back forward. “Aquatic DNA fused with your own, causing genetic mutations and physical attributes to change.” He stated, glancing at Piranha, who froze up. Somehow, with barely any time at all, Leuil had managed to accurately assess where Piranha’s abilities stemmed from. “Hereditary mutation causing temporal phases, stemming possibly as far back as seven generations.” Leuil said to Joker, and judging from his reaction, Piranha knew that Leuil had been right on the mark for Joker’s abilities too.

“How in the hell-” Piranha was cut off by Leuil’s laughter at their stunned expressions, and he glanced over at Knows and Valms, who were nodding an answer to the question Piranha had yet to ask. Apparently, Leuil was just that good.

“Oh man, you wouldn’t believe what people don’t pay attention to. Honestly, it’s all over you guys.” Leuil said, before speeding up the ladder. Piranha just stood there, unable to say anything more. “Valms, I got finished with your new mask by the way!” Leuil yelled from the upstairs area, before he popped his head over the railing again, slightly out of breath. He threw down a mask that was identical to the one that Valms was already wearing, and Piranha watched as Valms switched the masks around. Unlike what Piranha had expected, Valms had an ordinary mouth, and it made Piranha unsure of why he wore it in the first place. He mentally added the question to the list of questions he probably wouldn’t have answered, as Leuil popped out again. “Why are you guys still here?” He asked, confused, and the four took that as the cue to leave, shuffling out of the front door awkwardly as machinery clattered from above. “That guy maintains the wall. The field that keeps the courtyard lit and stops people from seeing inside.” Valms said as they walked, the most he had said in a while. “He’s a little eccentric, but when you get to know him, he’s actually kinda nice. If a little forward.” Valms glanced away, and Knows chuckled at this. “You should tell them about the time the two of you got drunk and almost-” Knows was cut off by Valms glaring at him. “Uh, never mind.” He trailed off, as the four walked back into the building. A few corridors and staircases later, they were at a corridor with doors leading off into different rooms. “This is the dormitories. This is where you’ll be staying for now, though you’ll probably be moved after a while.” Knows said, handing each of them a key. Piranha’s room key was numbered 729, and it made him wonder exactly how many rooms there were in the institute. Joker’s key was numbered as 730, and as such, the two had rooms opposite each other. “Well, I guess this is where we part ways for now.” Knows said, and the four stood in awkward silence. “You guys are free to leave anytime, you know. But if you stay, I can promise that the institute will give you what you’re looking for.” Knows reassured them. At first, Piranha was relieved, but as he looked at Valms and Knows, he saw the two glance at each other with an odd expression. He wasn’t quite sure what expression it was at first, but after he said goodbye to the rest of them, entered his room and laid down on the unexpectedly-soft bed, he realized why the expression unnerved him. Whatever those two had arrived here for, they hadn’t found it yet. Piranha knew that they had come after hours, meaning that they couldn’t have been here for too long. So how long would he have to wait for the information he needed?

It would be three weeks of nothing before excitement entered Piranha’s life.

#Story #Original Fiction #Creative Writing #Superpowers #Vale Dominus #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr

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bcxvi · 5 years

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Episode II - The Mistery

Naturally, we fucked until dawn.

Next day we had yet another quest to fulfill. Kimahri didn’t brought me back to his homelands just because we were going to have our marriage ceremony. He was summoned by one of his oldest friends: Wakka.

Kimahri never explained to me why he left Spira, why he decided to abandon, Yuna, Rikku, Wakka and leave his tribe behind.

I never insisted.

“Da Gem’ny Cliff,” an old sailor told us while approaching an small islet with tall mountain formations on it, “It’s da farther islet from the Besaid Archipelago, not many like it. Ya know, full of fiends an’asty creatures lurking beneath the shores. You’re lucky I know this place well enough, aye?. Send ma regards to M’ester Wakka.”

I never enjoyed physical activities. Other than sex, all sort of extreme sports were not my thing. But I thought this was one journey of a kind, probably something not willing to repeat ever again.

And Kimahri loved hiking, running, jumping and risking his life more than I did.

So when he suggested we should be climbing all the way until reaching Wakka’s campsite; I found it easy to agree and support that idea.

My worst decision ever.

“Keep climbing!” Kimahri shouted every five minutes, “Don’t stop! We’re almost there!”

“Are you sure?” I would reply constantly, my hands were strong but I always made sure to keep them as gentle as the petals of my rose. “That’s what you said-Pff! An hour ago!”

When I told him I had my limits he simply replied he didn’t remember hearing that back at the ship’s camarot. Damn. I was screwed.

And not just that.

Naturally he would be farther than me, and so his perfect and round ass was visible. Teasing me with all it’s might.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Sure...” I said without thinking, “I’m all... arse.”

“Arse?”

But before I could reply my delicate hands objected and without noticing it I slipped. Perhaps a faulty surface or maybe just my fatigue... I was hanging with barely a couple of my fingers, until none of them could stand it any more.

I had to let go.

I fell, probably thinking this would be the end...

But to my fortune, a flat surface hit my bottom. I was never so glad, or happy, to feel pain right on my ass as this one time.

Kimahri knew I was fine, but still He couldn’t hide a bit of his fear while yelling at me if “I was fine.” Of course I wasn’t... but I guess I had to play along.

That was a part of the journey I never enjoyed.

Kimahri reached me and stretched his hand.

I was almost twice as big as him, but somehow he was stronger and faster than me. In everything.

I guess there were special genes in the Ronso Race. No wonder their fur was blue and a horn grew on their forehead.

In a second I was being lifted by his strong arms, just like a small pouch full of pennies.

“Thanks... I thought I was done for,” I said.

“You should be more careful,” he replied, “the soil of Besaid’s Land Cluster is not as firm as Gagazet’s. Slipping is something common on these kind of tropical islands.

“Not many people survive a trip to the Gemini Cliff without heavy weaponry and climbing equipment tied to their waist.”

I understood Wakka’s reasons for building up a retirement house in this island. It was so dangerous to be on it that people would rather avoid it at all cost. Nevertheless I was never happy about the lack of proper transportation. Climbing those cliffs and walking kilometres of tall grass and bugs... wasn’t my style.

When I suggested Kimahri to reach the island by an airship service he looked at me and asked “where is your sense of adventure?”

“This Go-Aka must have a terrible taste for ‘adventure’.” Back then I didn’t know how to pronounce correctly his name. To be honest, I avoided saying it during our stay at his hut.

“‘Wakka’ is an ex-Blitzball player,” said Kimahri, “he enjoys making getaways as often as he can to keep up the good condition he had back then.”

I knew the story of how Wakka used to be a bad player, he even retired after winning the first championship. Kimahri explained to me that, later on, he decided to make career as a professional trainer.

At first no one took him serious.

But when his first student became one of the most successful Blitzball players of this New Era of Spira... well, everything changed.

“We should’ve used an airship service,” to be honest I find it amusing to complain when being with Kimahri. “All this bugs, dampness, the extreme heat... these are no things for a prince like me to go walking through.”

“You should stop complaining,” he said, “It’s not that rough of a journey, it could be worse.”

“I admit the sight is pretty!” I said aloud, “but all this humidity is going to ruin my fur! It’ll make me look a wild and dirty boar when we get to Go-Aka’s place.”

“Ouch!” a painful sting ran through my right arm. I guess that fall didn’t just made my glutes hurt.

Kimahi tuned right away and asked if I was fine. I tried to pretend everything was ok, but he saw me grabbing my wrist, trying to rub away the pain.

“I think I might injured my arm back at the cliffs...” I said, “Maybe all the adrenaline made my muscles ignore the pain.

“Well, let me see it, if it’s nothing serious I can use some practical remedies I brought along with me.”

Kimahri was a healer. It was a natural gift from him, always kind, approaching you with tenderness... I guess he learned to be this way when taking care of Yuna, no wonder I always liked the fatherly gestures he had towards me whenever I needed something.

“Hold still, this might sting a bit.” Kimahri placed some of his all-purpose ointment, rubbed it against my wrist and finished by wrapping a clean bandage around it.

“There,” he said, “does the handsome prince needs a kiss on the palm of his hand too?”

“Maybe,” I replied with naught.

Wakka’s hut remained at one of the most peaceful places of the island. They called it ‘The First Twin’, a hidden area at the west. You knew you were there because a spring was born in that place.

Next there was a series of tall trees and tropical foliage that made it look like a hidden garden.

The sun was starting to set when we finally got there. At first I though Wakka’s place would be a shack, crumbling and without any clean or dry places to actually rest.

I was mistaken.

“There!” yelled Kimahri, he pointed at the tallest tree. “Ahead of us! We’re finally here, this must be Wakka’s campsite.”

“Wow...” I whispered. When I finally saw Wakka’s residence I was amazed. I felt almost like home.

“His place sure got bigger,” explained Kimahri, “last time I came he only had a small hut below the tree... guess being a trainer actually paid him off.”

From below I saw a small tanned figure emerge from one of the topmost structures. He was barely wearing any clothes and his bright red hair made me spot him immediately. This was Wakka.

“Hey!” Wakka yelled from the distance, “you two over there! What ya doin’ here? T’is is private property! No trespassers allowed, ya?”

But as we got closer, Wakka realized we were no strangers messing with his property. I guess he noticed Kimahri’s blue fur, since his voice quickly calmed down and, with a yell of joy, he called Kimahri’s name from above.

They say first impressions are always the most important. You know, my impression when meeting Kimahri were not the best.

He was known at the Gymnasium for being that guy who stared at you in a grumpy way, crossed arms all the time and, if you were lucky, he would reply a yes or a no to you. Sometimes he only gave an unfriendly stare and released a grunt.

But the first impression I got from Wakka was quite a positive one, and I’m not talking about his “hut” only. Kimahri talked a couple of times about Wakka, he described him as an easy yet serious guy. He loved sports and loved his wife, Lulu.

I guess I imagined a sort of elderly guy, with children running around him and a bunch of family members surrounding him, like some sort of wiseman.

But he was different.

Wakka looked very young in fact, much more than I actually expected. He also knew how to stay fit, for his body was still in form, his skin tight and his muscles well toned.

I, by nature, have a very a muscular body. So does Kimahri. But humans have much troubles than creatures like us to maintain that physique, something I don’t miss from being one of them. Unless you are born with the right genes, getting the perfect body turns into an impossible task.

“I see you even brought your sweet pie!” Wakka exclaimed, I guess his first impression of me was a positive one as well. “What a hunk! I’m loving t’is guy already! Say, you ‘ever heard of Blitzball tall fella?”

Wakka lost no time, he saw in me the potential of a player. I mean, that was his job. I guess he was so excited about the idea of turning me into his new champion that he literally started bombarding me with comments related to becoming the next Blitzball Legend.

Kimahri kind of hated Blitzball. He told me a few things about it a couple of weeks ago, just because I insisted on knowing more about the place he came from.

He tried to warn Wakka that I wouldn’t be interested in it, but Wakka didn’t know when to give up and he enjoyed motivating me so much that he had to insist on getting me into his church.

“You Would become a Super Star! The next Abe Champion I can bet!”

He continued, saying I was a tall, handsome and hot, that all girls and boys would be chasing after me. ‘The King of the Games’ he called me, ‘The Unbeatable’.

Kimahri told him to stop. But Wakka was still excited, yet he saw in Kimahri the mean look, that stare that literally said you better shut up or he would beat you don to your knees.

“Just...” Wakka continued before he could finish, “think about it big guy, think about it, ya?”

“Sorry I got carried up,” Wakka said to Kimahri, “but it’s been a while since I last saw a guy with his size and physical attributes.”

He invited us to go upstairs and indulge ourselves with the food he had just brought from his scouting.

“You sure had a long trip, I can tell. You have that pilgrim’s look in your eyes.”

“Thank you,” I replied, “I don’t know if Kimahri is hungry, but I’m starving. I would gladly have something to eat.” Wakka’s table was rich in fresh vegetables, fruits, dry meat and cheese. I grabbed a couple of berries and put them in my mouth without hesitation. They were fantastic.

“Don’t speak for both of us Beast,” Kimahri said, “I’m hungry too. Unlike you, I do not complaint about it.”

Noticing some tension between us, Wakka limited his conversation skills and invited us something to drink. “I just came back from scouting,” he said, “so everything’s fresh, I know it looks a bit messy but it’s all good quality, ya? What do you want to drink? I have some fresh oranges, or maybe pineapple juice? Or maybe just somme plain spring water?”

Remember when I said Wakka gave me a good first impression? Well, he managed to keep that positive perception from me during the dinner.

Right after he invited us to rest and have a talk before night fell upon the whole island. He was the first in bringing up the thing Kimahri wanted to talk about in the first place: why did Kimahri summoned him back to Spira?

“So, Kimahri…” Wakka started, “I know you two just got here but, I can tell you want to discuss that thing I talked you about in my letter. I mean, I’ve been anxious for your arrival.”

“It’s not a problem at all Wakka,” Kimahri replied, “friends are always important to Kimahri.”

“Indeed, that’s why I knew you were the one to call.”

“I there something wrong?”

“It’s about Yuna.”

Yuna. The High Summoner, Daughter of High Summoner Braska. I wouldn’t dare to call myself Kimahri’s husband if I didn’t knew who she was. “Ah! Kimahri’s Protegeé?” I said, “The Summoner who defeated sin?”

“That same Summoner,” Wakka said.

Kimahri turned to look at Wakka, I could tell he was concerned, Yuna had promised him she would be fine, that nothing would go wrong if he had to leave Spira and walk a way for a while. “After I left,” explained Kimahri, “I lost myself in my new life, I forgot about keeping touch with her as often as I did. If it wasn’t from her, me and Beast would’ve never meet.”

“You know how she is,” replied Wakka, “she’s always trying to smile and pretend everything is all right… But we all know she is trying to bear with her suffering. Alone.”

Wakka explained that, since Tidus’ return, things had been going well for her, she even changed, for good. But Somehow he and their friends knew she felt responsible for Spira’s new age, this Eternal Calm she finally brought.

Something they noticed, at first, was her constant traveling to the former Temples of Yevon. Visiting the Chambers of the Fayth was something only few could do, including her. At first they thought Yuna had returned to the practices of Yevon and reinterpreted them to fix the bad direction the former Maesters had been practicing.

“She’s distant,” Wakka said, “stronger, but distant, ya? That’s why we wanted you to come…”

“We?” kimahri asked.

“Rikku, Paine, Lulu… Me. We all agreed you were the only one who would reach Yuna and get close enough to her.”

Kimahri grunted and shook his head lightly. I knew he wasn’t okay with what Wakka just asked of him. “If Yuna wants to keep things away from us then she must have a reason. If there was something wrong she would tell us if she had to.”

“That’s what we thought at first,” insisted Wakka, “but two weeks ago a strange event took place, it certainly made us change our mind about Yuna’s situation.”

“Event? What kind of event?”

“Remember when the Aeons reappeared? Right after the Eternal Calm Started?”

“Oh, I interrupted again, “I know that story, Kimahri talked me about it. The time when Yuna managed to send Shuyin’s enraged spirit to a rest when Vegnagun was about to destroy Bevelle?”

“Indeed,” replied Kimahri, I could hear a bit of anger in his voice, perhaps not approving Wakka’s reasons to call him back to Spira. “I didn’t happen to be there for her. None of us where. Yuna had other allies and all she needed from us was our trust.”

Kimahri paused and tried to catch some breath, before Wakka would insist on anything else Kimahri continued his sermon. “I suggest we should do the same, even if the Aeons are manifesting. It wouldn’t be the first time has been Beckoned, twice, out of the warplane, Wakka.”

“I know,” Wakka said. “but this time is different. We know it.”

Wakka raised from his hammock and pulled up a large robe, while putting it on he explained his point of view, “It’s not just Yuna, something is going on in Spira that feels different from when Sin was alive or Vegnagun showed up.”

Anyone who’s familiar with the Farplane and the theory that sustains the Pyreflies, knows that a Beckoning has a point of origin. They do not happen just by themselves. Wakka knew something was calling these creatures back, again. What he said implied that, maybe, someone was trying to bring Sin back.

Although they were still not sure about it, they did know Yuna wouldn’t be so concerned if this were to be false.

That’s the reason he and the others decided to scatter and keep an eye on different temples of Spira. Wakka wasn’t just taking a vacation from his duty as a Maester, he was training to become stronger, just in case he had to fight agains any Dark Aeons at the main temple of Besaid.

“We don’t want Yuna to break again,” Wakka continued, “she has her limits, trying to protect us won’t change the fact she’s still human. I’m sorry if you’re not okay with intervening, but we thought it was for the best. Yuna always opened up with you.”

Kimahri was a very thoughtful individual, whenever I asked something from him I would have to wait a day or two, depending on how complicated the situation sounded according to his personal ethics. But this time he didn’t have to think much about it. When it was a vague request he would definitely answer with a ‘No’ and would go about lecturing you about why is it a bad idea and why you don’t even need it on the first place.

“Alright,” Kimahri said, “I’ll agree in visiting the temple, we need to get to Mt. Gagazet anyway, at least I could do a favor to you all and check this thing in particular.”

“Thank you,” Wakka said, “they say the temple’s been shut down and no people are allowed to get in it, but,” said Wakka before Kimahri would object, “there is a secret path you can both use, it’s safe and it leads right atop the hill, where the temple lies.”

“This is crazy,” I said, “I don’t want to be disrespectful on you or in any of your friends… but Kimahri is right in getting angry. First you want us to peek our noses into Yuna’s business and then you are telling us you don’t even know what we’re up against? If the place is shut down it’s because getting near means there’s something of uncontrollable danger in it.”

“I agree,” added Kimahri.

Wakka rubbed his eyes and yawned. He turned to us and suggested maybe we should rest and go to sleep. Tomorrow we could talk more about the issue and reach an agreement. He knew he was asking much out of us.

We both understood we were stronger than any of them together, but risking our lives just to ‘check’ something out?

No.

I was not willing to risk the life of the man I loved and I doubt he would be willing to put me in that same danger as well.

I remember that night something happened. It was a quiet place, so no noises surrounded the area except the crashing of the waves with the far cliffs and the wind shaking the silk curtains.

At first I thought it was Kimahri. After all, he always enjoyed touching my body sometimes in the middle of the night. We had our privacy back at the cruise, but the bed was so comfortable that maybe he had this urge to satisfy his basic needs.

A hand, cold and soft, suddenly started sliding through my most intimate parts.

Nobody seemed to be there. I woke up immediately and looked around, the balcony seemed empty and the tree-tops were shaking softly with the breeze.

When I got up from bed I managed to look up at the stream, a noisy path of water that had plenty of bridges to cross it.

I was about to give up my paranoid sense of finding intruders, until I saw the main bridge. A large wooden path that Wakka built himself when he first arrived to this islands.

Sitting at the edge was the shape of a man. Large, stocky and with nothing on him but a silk loincloth. Naked, I pulled my sword and rushed towards the stranger quietly.

“Who are you, you bastard?” I whispered.

I lifted my weapon and tried not to call the attention of this intruder with my glittering blade.

But I guess it was too late.

For he had turned. He meet my eyes and grinned. At first I thought I was having visions, probably dreaming. But it felt too real and the sensations were there. I could feel the wind caressing my genitals and his silk loincloth lifting and revealing the most majestic penis I’ve ever seen on a foreigner.

“You know,” He said, “for being a beast you certainly exceeded my expectations. Maybe I was too careless.”

His speech broke my concentration a bit. But still I maintained my focus and lifted my friendly weapon, pointed at him and made my battling stand.

“Who are you?”

End of Act 1

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jakehglover · 6 years

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Calamity Jill: Off-Grid Living Inspiration

youtube

By Dr. Mercola

Jill Redwood is sometimes referred to as Calamity Jill, a reference to Martha Jane Canary, better known as Calamity Jane. An American frontierswoman and professional scout, Calamity Jane was an acquaintance of Wild Bill Hickok and appeared in the Buffalo Bill Wild West show later in her life.1

But this is where the comparison ends. While Calamity Jane2 was known to be an itinerant alcoholic with no formal education, Redwood is a writer and environmental activist who spent her early adult life working in Melbourne, Australia, as a lab technician. Redwood has since been entered into the Encyclopedia of Women and Leadership in 20th Century Australia.3

In this short video, Redwood walks through her home and gardens, showing how she has successfully lived relatively independent of supermarkets, manufacturing and electricity for the past 30 years. Although a radical choice for most, Redwood has enjoyed her years living off the grid, is rarely sick and looks forward to remaining on her small farm for years to come.

Jill Redwood — Off-Grid Motivation for Clean Living

If you have ever dreamt about selling everything you own and living off the grid, being completely self-sufficient and in harmony with nature, you're not alone. Redwood, a pioneer of this lifestyle, has been happily living for over 30 years on the edge of a forest in East Gippsland in Victoria, Australia. In these years she's had no main power supply, main water supply, mobile reception or television.4

As an environmentalist, she works to protect the forests where she lives. Redwood hates supermarkets and only eats the foods she has grown in her backyard, or makes herself on her 15-acre property. She lived on a number of different properties before settling in 1983 on the land she now owns.

Redwood built the home herself, which she said took eight years.5 During that time she lived in a small dirt-floored bark hut on the property. With no building experience, she researched the type of houses early settlers had built and claims,6 “It's just like baking a cake, you just follow the recipe.” In total, Redwood said the house cost less than $3,000 to build. Most of the money was spent on roofing and floor boards. The cracks in the timber walls were filled with a mixture of cowpats and lime.

The house is solar powered with hot water generated on her wooden stove. Her power use is limited to her computer, scanner and internet modem. She uses lights at night, a food processor and a radio on occasion. She says,7 “… when the sun really shines and there's lots of power coming in, I've got a washing machine. That's a luxury.”

Each of her decisions were made with an aim toward reducing her impact on the environment. She is passionate about preserving the environment and her local forest and believes her lifestyle should reflect her goals.8 While Redwood lives a solitary lifestyle she chose at an early age, off-grid living does not necessitate this choice. She felt her life was pointed in the direction of getting away from society and having her own little patch of land with animals. But, she had always preferred a solitary lifestyle.

Redwood’s Home Runs on the Sun

Redwood’s home is completely powered by solar panels. This technology had been very expensive for many years but costs have fallen and are now within reach of many homeowners. The consumption of nonrenewable resources such as oil and gas is finite, while solar energy panels harness energy from a completely renewable source, the sun. Using this you can light your home, produce hot water and run your electrical appliances.

The main benefit is it doesn't produce any pollutants and is one of the cleanest sources of energy.9 In the past, a big disadvantage was the inability to use solar energy to power your home at night. Solar storage batteries, to store excess energy produced during the day, were cumbersome and expensive.

Today, many modern units use a process called net metering, a system hooking your home to the city’s power grid. This then measures the difference between the energy you give back to the grid during the day and the energy you use.

Net metering is a means of controlling energy deficits and is an easier and cheaper method of storing the excess power your home generates than batteries. In some areas of the country where it's sunny for long periods of time, you may build up enough power in your home that the energy company pays you for supplying more energy than you use.

The cost of solar panels has dropped by 80 percent since 2008, and experts expect the cost to keep falling. Solar cells are priced per wattage they generate. In 1977, cells cost nearly $77 per watt. Today the cost ranges from $2.87 to $3.85 per watt.10 An installation on your home may cost nearly $17,000, but in the U.S., with tax credits, it can often be reduced to around $12,000.

However, you don't have to buy your own solar panels as you can rent them. If you rent or lease, most companies provide free maintenance. Some states have an incentive program to encourage people to switch to more sustainable energy production, which may help you cover the cost of installing solar panels on your home.11

It takes the average homeowner between six and 15 years to pay off their solar panels. However, if you live in a sunny climate with a good incentive program from your state, you might accomplish it in as little as two years. Since the average life span of solar panels is 25 years, this may mean you save thousands of dollars on your power bill over the course of time.12 While solar power cells are an advantage in the city, they may be essential in remote areas without access to an energy grid.13

Water Use in the City

Redwood collects rainwater off the roof or from the local river where she installed a water wheel to get it out.14 She uses this to supply her farm with water for the plants, animals and her own needs. You may have the opportunity to discover a clean spring supply in your area by checking out FindASpring.com.15 You may also want to consider other tactics to reduce your water use and ensure a clean supply at home, including:16

• Shower water. Limiting your showers to five minutes may save you up to 1,000 gallons a month. Keep a 5-gallon bucket in the shower to catch the water as you adjust the temperature. You can use this to water your plants or even flush the toilet.

• Conservation. Consider installing water saving shower heads, faucets and toilets to reduce water use. Add a water barrel in your garden to capture rainwater to water your plants. Don’t run the water while you’re washing dishes or brushing your teeth — run it only when you’re using it.

Fix any leaking or dripping faucets or toilets as the water you lose can add up. Run your dishwasher and washing machine with a full load as half-loaded machines add up to gallons of wasted water. When you conserve electricity you are also conserving water since power plants need thousands of gallons to cool.

• Safety. Remember most water sources are severely polluted, so the issue of filtration to achieve a clean supply has become a necessity. If your home or community has older water pipes, or if you live near a military base or other sites using PFC-laced firefighting foam, the risk your water may be contaminated may be further magnified. As a general rule, I recommend using a high quality water filtration system unless you can verify the purity of your water.

To be certain you're getting the purest water you can, filter at both the point of entry and point of use. This means filtering all the water coming into the house, and then filtering again at the kitchen sink and shower. Unfiltered water can also expose you to dangerous chlorine vapors and chloroform gas. The FDA and other U.S. government agencies report most homes in the U.S. have measurable levels of chloroform gas, courtesy of chlorinated tap water.

Unless you have a whole house water filter, chlorine will vaporize from every toilet bowl in your home and every time you wash your clothes, dishes, or take a shower or bath. Chloroform gas, chlorine vapors and the associated detergent byproducts may increase your risk of asthma, airway inflammation and respiratory allergies.

If you get your water from a municipal water supply and don't have a whole house filter, it’s important to open up windows on opposing sides of your home so you get cross ventilation. Keep the windows open for five to 10 minutes a day to remove these gases.

Pesticide-Free Fruits and Vegetables, Summer and Winter

Redwood lives nearly 90 minutes from the nearest grocery store, so it’s no small feat to gather supplies.17 She doesn’t pop out to the store for food during the summer and winter months, but instead lives off the produce and dairy products produced on her farm. Eggs from her free-range chickens, milk from goats and pesticide-free fruits and vegetables sustain her through the summer months. Her garden produces an abundance, so she pickles and preserves to weather the winter months.18

You don't have to live on a farm to grow some of your own vegetables, as many grow quite well in pots. In fact, with a sunny window, you can keep yourself in fresh herbs throughout the winter months.

Growing your own produce has the added advantage of knowing your plants are produced from non-genetically modified seed and grown without pesticides or insecticides, both of which can significantly change your gut microbiome and thus your health. To read more, see my previous article, “Pesticide Treadmill Jeopardizes Food Safety.”

Raising your own chickens for eggs is another opportunity to ensure you are eating safe food. As recently as the 1920s, chickens were raised primarily for eggs and not their meat. Unfortunately, over the past years, eggs were vilified after misconceptions regarding cholesterol content were highly publicized. In reality, eggs provide valuable vitamins, omega-3 fats and antioxidants, and are one of the best sources of choline.

The only better option to getting your eggs and chicken fresh from a local farmer is to raise your own backyard flock. This practice is growing in popularity and many cities in the U.S. are adjusting zoning ordinances to allow this practice. Requirements may vary depending upon your location, so please check with your city before taking the plunge. However, you might be surprised to find they already allow chickens.

You'll immediately be able to tell the difference between eggs you got from your own hens foraging in your yard and those you purchased at the grocery store. Pastured eggs have a bright orange yolk compared to dull, pale, yellow yolks from caged hens.

If raising your own chickens is not appealing, you have other options. High-quality organic, pastured eggs may be grown locally and are becoming easier to find as nearly every rural area has individuals with chickens. If you live in an urban area, visit your local health food store for the quickest route to finding high-quality local egg sources. Look for farmers markets and food co-ops to meet people who produce your food. With face-to-face contact, you can get your questions answered and know exactly what you're buying.

from HealthyLife via Jake Glover on Inoreader http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2018/07/21/off-grid-living-inspiration.aspx

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tealin · 5 years

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The Road to Cape Evans

This is a crosspost from twirlynoodle.com/blog. If you're reading it in beta mode on NeoTumblr, the remote-hosted images won't show up, so please either turn off beta or see it at the original location, linked above. Enjoy!

Having done Sea Ice training at last, I was clear to head out on snowmobile. My coordinator’s intent had been to do a ‘shakedown’ one day – a practice run, to get used to the vehicles, how to load and tie down the sledge, a chance to get things wrong when it doesn’t really matter – and go to Cape Evans the next, but the morning of the shakedown she said ‘It’s a beautiful day, let’s combine the two.' Thus was initiated a de facto rule of my month in Antarctica: One Must Only Ever Go To Cape Evans By Surprise. I ended up going three times, all by surprise, while every excursion that had been planned, even the night before, fell through.

Having been the headquarters of the Terra Nova Expedition, Cape Evans was obviously central to my research and the most important location for me to visit: I’m going to be drawing people doing stuff there for the next decade, probably, and I need to be able to place myself in that space to depict it truthfully. The hut itself is copiously documented, and while dropping in there was obviously valuable to me, the urgent holes in my knowledge were the less photogenic but no less important surroundings of the hut. How far was it to walk up Wind Vane Hill? How far to the Ramp? What was the Ramp? What did the named landmarks between Cape Evans and Hut Point look like, and how did they relate to one another? There was a lot of travelling done over that route – perhaps not quite as frequently as you’d visit the grocery store, but it needs to have that degree of familiarity.

So when we set off on a bright and amazingly balmy November morning, aside from learning the basic practicalities of snowmobile driving, I was keen to document as much of that route as possible.

You can’t see Mt Erebus from McMurdo, but I knew from Sea Ice training that only a little way out on McMurdo Sound, the Ross Island panorama comes into view. Once we’d made our turnoff onto the main road and had a clear shot of our objective, I captured it.

A little further on, I got one facing the other direction. This is what you would have seen any time you were setting off for a grand adventure to the south.

Once clear of Arrival Heights, I got a panorama of the whole of Erebus Bay, with several features I was finally seeing for the first time. Probably the biggest surprise of this trip was finding out just how low Glacier Tongue was. When you see it on a top-down map, or a satellite photo, it’s a hugely prominent feature, but unless you’re very near to it, it is perfectly possible to look right over it to what’s beyond.

Here we were further into the bay than the usual route would have been, but it means we got a better view of the Hutton Cliffs than we would have done otherwise. They are not so much cliffs as hills which, between them, create a cliff of ice and snow. In the frustration of waiting for the sea ice to freeze and allow them back to Cape Evans, the Terra Nova men frequently discussed alternate overland routes back, often starting up the Hut Point Peninsula and going down the slope north of the Hutton Cliffs, so it’s nice to see what they meant.

As we approached Glacier Tongue, the ice effects on Erebus really started to shine. The Sea Ice Master had previously been a mountaineer, and the other person training with me was a skier; when the latter saw how much ice was visible under the snow on Arrival Heights, he commented on the bad skiing. “Yeah, there’s a lot of bad skiing in Antarctica,” the Master replied, quite a historically relevant observation from someone with plenty of expert first-hand experience.

If you look closely, just under the ‘horizon’ line at the base of the slope is a line of undulations that cross the image. These are the saw teeth of Glacier Tongue, the top of which forms the apparent horizon. You see, quite low!

The road took us around the tip; this was the closest I got, but it was close enough to see the height, and how the drifted snow to leeward would provide a ramp from which to climb onto the firmer ice. This was about as far south as the Terra Nova got, when scouting a location for the hut in January 1911, and they weighed up building the hut here vs. on solid ground at Cape Evans. The latter was considered the more sensible option, and rightly so, for only a couple of months later, the end of Glacier Tongue broke off in a big swell and floated out to sea!

From here you get a million-dollar view of the ice falls down Erebus. Reading Cherry-Garrard’s description of them in Worst Journey, after seeing them in person, I have to give him full marks for descriptive power.

Here are the southern slopes of Erebus; but how different from those which you have lately seen. Northwards they fell in broad calm lines to a beautiful stately cliff which edged the sea. But here—all the epithets and all the adjectives which denote chaotic immensity could not adequately tell of them. Visualize a torrent ten miles long and twenty miles broad; imagine it falling over mountainous rocks and tumbling over itself in giant waves; imagine it arrested in the twinkling of an eye, frozen and white. Countless blizzards have swept their drifts over it, but have failed to hide it. And it continues to move. As you stand in the still cold air you may sometimes hear the silence broken by the sharp reports as the cold contracts it or its own weight splits it. Nature is tearing up that ice as human beings tear paper.

All the schemes for finding an overland route to Cape Evans had to contend with crossing these ice falls, and none could think of how to do it. So the sea ice it had to be.

I have been directing all your attention to the view to the right of us, but there are some interesting things to the left as well. Once we pass Glacier Tongue we are almost alongside Tent Island. I have no photos from this end of Tent Island because the road was horribly chewed up around here so all our concentration was on ploughing through, but here is one looking back at it.

Tent Island’s neighbour is Inaccessible Island, named for its steep slopes affording no access. I was surprised how big it was, something I struggled to capture on camera. Having spent many hours of my childhood on I-15, it reminded me of nothing so much as the top of a mountain in the Mojave, lopped off and stuck in the snow. Some of my photos from Cape Evans give a proper sense of scale, but seeing it end-on shows why it was called ‘inaccessible.’

This is also a good vantage point for Great and Little Razorback. They are aptly named: both are a straight and narrow with a very sharp ridgeline. Great Razorback is the larger of the two; Little Razorback is very wee indeed.

While on the subject of scale, Erebus was always a problem. It never turned up as large in a photo as it seemed to be in real life. The trouble is, trying to get all of it in one shot, you have to zoom so far out that it is inevitably small in the frame. This is more what it felt like to be at the foot of Erebus:

We’re nearly there! I’ve seen an awful lot of the Barne Glacier as seen from Cape Evans; the pieces were in front of me now, and I knew that with only a little change in parallax, Cape Barne would slide behind the glacier face and then we’d be home.

Finally the road rounded a low promontory of blobby lava, and it came into view for the first time:

. . . And seeing it here, in its full setting, in 3D, I realised properly how this is just a shed in the middle of nowhere, and that, for all the stories it contains, it is so very very small, in a way I had never imagined.

But as I pulled up to the snowmobile parking area just offshore, it still felt like coming home.

#antarctica #cape evans #travel #history #polar exploration #mount erebus #sea ice #snowmobiling #usap #united states antarctic program #dellbridge islands #erebus glacier tongue #seals #weddell seals

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lizzysimslife-blog · 7 years

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Let’s Rant!

Aight. Here’s what I’m gathering.

In terms of... timeline, the most obvious line up would be Godus, Virtual Villagers, Village Life, Town Mayor, Fashion, then Fallout Vault (re-branded). with World of Warcraft and Sims as interesting... ascensions beyond that timeline. PROBABLY.

But what I mainly want to focus on is Godus and Origins, since that’s what I was playing today, and mix it with my experience of Minecraft to discuss an ancient civiliation stage of this game.

Bringing it most chiefly to the forefront of discussion using Civ VI as a rubric.

In the beginning of Civ VI (which, for the most part, did a far better job with the progression tree and so I’m going to use it in its entirety despite my familiarity with V) they are in the “ancient era”. Agruculture, it appears, has already been established.

In Godus, as far as I’ve gotten, agreiculture has not been established at all, though it’s very unclear how they’re staying alive on this sandy island with huts.

In Origins (a very good model for the beginning of such a world), they begin without it, picking off a berry bush. By the end, they’re doing some kinda-farming. Is this agriculture?

Civilization VI doesn’t care. What it does clarify is that in its beginning spot, you have a settlement that can be named separate from a group of warriors, and you haven’t yet figured out pottery, animal husbandry, mining, sailing, or astrology.

Certainly, all of Virtual Villagers so far isn’t near to that, but that far of a thing brings in a few more games to be “clumped” into the PRE-ancient era here. Because Village Life doesn’t have animal husbandry, and it has to, in the process of the game, learn HUNTING.

This places it after Virtual Villagers, but BEFORE the civilzation tree even applies.

But if THAT’S true, we need to also bring in Town Mayor... because one of the things I really liked was the learning to do basic things and unlocking stuff that would THEN, SOMEDAY be turned into mining and other things by expanding the world around the main town.

That, frankly, would then turn into a civilization type world map.

So vaguly, we have Godus, to Virtual Villagers, to Village Life (Woodland Only), to Town Mayor.

[LATER EDIT: THIS is where “phase two” would begin.]

We’d then have a phase where we town-mayor explore our surroundings, go from origins-spear-fishing or no-fishing to village-life-fishing, village-life develop hunting, and somehow in there develop warriors, albeit ones who have never left our grounds, which implies that enemies were introduced in here beyond the easy game we hunt in the local woods.

I don’t have an exact game to express this... but that would be clear in the progression and secure in that clarity.

After that, something would happen to reveal the outside world... probably a tunnel that’s one of the Town Projects in town mayor, one that we thought was a cave or was blocked by some rocks or something.

That would allow this aggressively “Northshire Abbey” type area to continue to be very secure as the world progresses from there, because there’s only one entry point to an otherwise insurmountable seclusion.

This could trigger the beginning of the ADVENTURE STAGE!

The adventure stage is when you log into a brand new character on WoW. You center in on a small place that has just undergone a dangerous and life-shifting change, and you were just sent from a person in the area to go help because of your skills!

In Pandaren fashion, it could be that this place was so secluded because it was what will later be known as “Tutorial Island”. Now you bring in progression inspiriation from runescape, from the pandaren and the trolls of wow, and likely from origins.

The adventure stage is the beginning of Civilzation VI. Suddenly, you can build scouts to go out into this new world! You can train new warrior groups (however that was done previously) to ---

We interupt this thought to bring you yesssss.

You wanna know how you get warriors? Like, people who are strong rather than skilled and quiet hunters, who run fast and hit hard and throw precisely?

You play SPORTS.

Which of COURSE people would do, even at an EARLY stage! And that’s one of the delights of the early world - and the world continuing, but there’s a lot of things to be excited about later.

The warriors you start with in the beginning of Civ aren’t your experienced “warriors”... they’re your Besaid Aurochs!

Also... tyig Civ in with the town idea and not wanting that to reach farther than the 6 diameter.

You are a ONE sexagon little plot in the beginning. When you move into “Phase Two” (see above for clarification) and are beginning to explore your surroundings and unlocking new parts of the game, the thing that allows it requires you upgrading your town center.

Upgrading your town center upgrading your town center upgrading your town center!

And THAAAAAAAT’s where we’re going to bring in STELLARIS style progression, because that’s the bomb diggity and super compelling and good and stuff.

Upgrading your town center doesn’t AUTOMATICALLY unlock the next ring... it just makes them AVAILABLE for expansion.

The Blitzball thinng really pulls it together. Like, there’s a place where you split from VV’s “we gotta survive how do we do this” to the split between skills and learning and story and happiness and bond that we were already putting into the main day, and the sports folk start doing stats and they have games! Of COURSE!

I’m excited now.

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darthsmurf · 8 years

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Of Orcs and Elves: Desert Turtle's Tale

--------------- Where’s That Sword? Part 1----------- “Find the desert rat, NOW!” The man in the blue robe screams. “Head over to the stable; Raishe. Check the stalls and the feed storage.” Mafiee go down to the tavern and speak to that drunken fool Denmarre, find out if he has seen that little thief.” “I’ll check the market, go now. I want her found before it’s too late!” The man in the blue robes heads to the main street. The man finds the market crowded with traders and towns people. His face turns red with anger, how the hell did that girl get around his spells and steal the sword. After an hour searching the market and finding nothing; Willver heads over to the Spiked Ogre to see if Mafiee has found anything out. On the way he sees Raishe, “Will any sign of her yet?” No, Sir no sign.” “Damn!” Willver mutters. Walking to Dead River Street, then a right at Dry Leaves Lane, they find the tavern. Walking inside the tavern Willver looks for Mafiee, shouldn’t be hard to find after all a six foot one inch, bold man with scares though out his face should easy to find. Then again most of these desert dweller men where six to seven feet high. There in the middle of the tables was the man he was looking for, Willver every unhappy seeing Mafiee drinking and laughing as though he had no care in the world. The Caster walks over to the table. Beside Mafiee was an older man of sixty, gray hair, a huge tanker of mead in hand laughing as will. Willver pulls a chair out from the table and sits down. “What is so funny Denmarre? “ Smirks Willver, looking at the men. “Why, the fact that a mere child broke though all those spells casted around the sword. Who would have thought it could ever happen to a great Caster such as Willver the Eastern Chamberlin of Delsour.” Slamming his fist on the table almost knocking the half empty tanker of mead to the floor. “It’s not funny, not funny at all! “ Willver yelled: the anger glower fiercer as his face turns a shade of purple-red. Mafiee stops laughing, for Willver in this state is dangerous to all; even the men working for him. The way Willver was looking at him right now was spine tingling. “What do you know of this Girl known as Turtle, Danmarre?” “Only that she came to town some years ago with a trading band of merchants. They left her here with Evvlond, the school Matron.” Looking at Willver with concern in his eyes. “I don’t know much more.” Raishe stood behind Willver, waiting to see what the Caster would do next. “Where is this Evvlond?” “You will find her down the street at the school, she should be there in the morning.” Danmarre answered the question before ordering other mead, as the waitress walked by. “That’s not good enough where does this Matron live?” With what Danmarre determined as his life in danger; he answers.” Go to Water Hole Street turn right until you reach the tree line then take the left street called Green Leaf keep going to the end of street, on the right hand of the street you will find a small hut with a green top. That is her house.” The Caster looks at his men, they leave the Traven heading to the north of town looking for Water Hole street. Once the three men left the Spiked Ogre; Raishe grabs Mafiee pinning him to the building side, holding the man inches from the ground Willver slaps him. “Why the fuck did you tell Denmarre about the sword let alone it was stolen? You were sent there to find information not give it. Next time you will not be as lucky. Put him down Raishe.” Moments after the men leave Danmarre snaps his finger; a small man from the corner stool moves swiftly to the table. Handing the microman a note, “Run, now to Shorret’s give him this.” Tatter not wanting to leave his drink behind, he did as his boss ordered. Tatter quickly leaves, keeping in the shadows he finds his way to the stables. Making sure that no one has followed him, he doubles back and checks. After making sure no one followed him; he enters the upper level window. Climbing down the west side ladder, Tatter feels a sharpness in the middle of his back. He stops and raises his hand. “Shorret, I have a message from Danmarre.” The man with red hair lowers the sword from the little man’s back. “Shorret is not here, he left earlier in the day.” The man said. “What do you what here?” Tatter not happy with this information, “I have nothing to say to whoever you are.” “Will now you have a problem little man! You broke into the stables; now I can either turn you over to the constables, run this dagger though you, or you can tell me what you wanted Shorret for. Now, turn around and explain Danmarre’s message.” Tatter spins around to face his capturer, the dagger holder stands about 5’ 10” and has red hair, grey eyes, clean chin, with a mustache. The man could not be more than twenty in years if that. “Who are you, and why did Shorret leave town?” The microman retorted back to the human. “My name is Fangton, I am Shorret half-brother from The Forrest of Ailtren. Hopping from beam to beam the cloaked figure moves swiftly thought the roof tops watching the targets. The two men entered the tavern, the Warrior first then the Dark Caster. Hiding in the shadows the figure sits waiting for their return. The blue robed man was the first to appear outside the Traven, then the warrior with a shorter bold man. The figure stands up to watch were the men might go next. She watches the tall black hair warrior grab the shorter man by the throat and walking him into the ally. Then watches the warrior pushes the smaller man into the wall. The man is lifted from the ground his face is turning red from the lack of air. The blue cloaked man smacks him across the face, screaming at him about a sword and information being pass out. After being thrown to the ground the bold man, gets back up and looks at the blue cloaked man and nods. The three men head west down the street. Willver and his companions walk to a street sign pointing out Water Hole Street, the cloaked figure on the roof top stops. The figure ducks down into a shadow just in time as the Dark hair warrior looks up at the roof tops. “What are you looking at Raishe?” Asks the Caster, “What do you see?” The Caster steps up to Raishe also looking at the roof tops. “Nothing, Willver. I thought I seen something over there.” Pointing up to where the figure was standing only moments before. “But, I don’t see anything there.” He continues; “It’s been a long day and I need some sleep.” As Willver continues to look up at the building roof tops, his right hand starts to glow blue. In minutes a small white orb appears in Willver hand, he begins to move his hand back toward his head to throw the ball of light at the roof top. The hidden figure knows if the spell goes off she would be seen. Just as the Caster was about to throw the orb, an orange Valleykat jumps down from the left side of the building. The huge cat growls at the men with its teeth clinched tight around a wild bird. “It appears we have disturbed this animal from its meal.” The bold headed man spoke. “It’s an omen, maybe we should wait until day light before we continue on this quest?” “No, I need that sword back!” Willver snaps. “You should never have lost it in the first place, if you weren’t married to the Western Chamberlin daughter; I would have killed you already. Don’t speak again tonight, or you just might disappear before we are though!” The bold headed man looks afraid, he stepped back and waiting for Willver to figure out what to do next. The men moments later turned south on to Water Hole Street. The figure could see them walking ahead, she decided to wait 5 more minutes to make sure they could not spot her again. Damn that was close; she thought to herself, if that cat wasn’t there they would have found me for sure. I’m too close for that to happen. She decided to jump off the roof and follow them on the streets. Willver points to the street sign and asks Raishe to read it, “Yes, it’s Green Leaf.” “Mafiee, you go first scout out the area.” “Yes, Willver.” Was all he replied. Meanwhile, Raishe and Willver started to watch the roof tops to see if anyone was following them. 20 minutes later Mafiee return from scouting, “The house is there, no lights, no movement either; however it’s bigger than was said.” “Ok, let’s move out.” Willver said, as he motioned his men to follow. “We‘ll figure it out once we get there.” The cloaked woman stands hidden behind the window panels of a run down two story house. The falling panels from its Bay windows left a crack between them. The woman could see the three perfectly, even better she can now hear them speak. She couldn’t have plan this better, she giggles for a moment than stops. As the men turn down the street, the woman decides to wait there for the moment. Better to be safe than a dead rat she reminds herself. Waiting was so against her nature, but this time it was important to count and breathe. Vengeance one thousand, Vengeance one thousand and two, Vengeance one thousand and three….She kept counting until she reached the last number; , Vengeance three thousand and ninety nine. Her mind clear of all thoughts but one, the death of the man who had destroyed her childhood. Her eyes glared into the darkness to see if anyone was lingering around to catch her. She dashing from around the panels, she runs to the nearest tree. Jumping on to its trunk she scrambles her way up to the top of its branches. The men used the tree lined side of the street as cover to sneak upon the green roof house. The house was there alright, however Danmarre did not say it was the only house on the block. The house was two story’s high, the roof was evergreen in color, the thirdly columns holding the large porch on top where covered in red and green vines. The length of it had to be two acres if not more and one wide. Needless to say Willver was not happy. “Mafiee, go find us a ways of getting inside.” Mafiee looks into the Casters eyes with uncertainty. “Go, Now!” Growled Willver. Mafiee nobs his head. Best to do as he says, Mafiee thinks to himself. The dodger runs from the shadows of the tree line towards the nearest wall of the house. As Mafiee leaves Willver turns to Raishe, “Remind me later to Show Danmarre my gratitude for not disclosing all information of the house.” Raishe, nods his head.

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