#and i know it looked the same during the spanish flu

[hippopotatoe]

i'm going batshit over the similarities between old cholera outbreaks and covid 19 wlkdhdjdbs dljdhd people really are people huh!!!!!

[littledeathdove]

Little Mother Miranda Headcanons

From the state of how her laboratory looked in the game shows that she is most likely messy. I will say that she is clean for the most part, but I believe that after certain documents and papers lose their value she loses them and they eventually end up…somewhere. She doesn’t want to get rid of them just in case she will need later on.

She can draw and does it really good, I mean she literally had like a whole table dedicated to drawing. I believe she would draw things she finds interest in, and that she also draws little drawings of moments she shared with Eva in the corner of papers.

Her voice softens when she talks about Eva, it’s not completely noticeable since Miranda doesn’t mean to do it, it’s a unintentional thing. Unless you’re actively paying attention to her, you won’t be even able to notice it.

She doesn’t have many interests, and her interest is hard to earn AND keep. Simply because her mind is always on two main things, her dear daughter and advancing her knowledge on the mold. So when something does somehow catch her interest, she tends to become obsessed with it. Like badly obsessed, and this doesn’t shy away from people too.

She doesn’t talk much unless she is giving out speeches to villagers, or talking to the lords. But she does talk likely a lot when it’s about scientific topics, especially the mold.

Miranda can cook, and she does it very well. Cause when she was still a mortal and Eva was still alive, Miranda didn’t have a steady income source, so money was almost always small. Meaning she had to cook with whatever she was able to afford. Which led to her becoming good at making random ingredients into a delicious meal.

Miranda is the closest to Donna out of all the lords. Out of all the other lords, Donna is the only one who will ever be able to spend a peaceful moment with Miranda without it involving something of business. Miranda also enjoys Donna’s nature to stick to the shadows and not cause any problems.

Miranda also ordered Donna to make multiple dresses and also a few dolls in the past. Both items show the luxury of materials and the beauty of time put into them. These items are for Eva when Miranda brings her back. The reason they are so luxurious is that Miranda wasn't able to afford such things for Eva when she still had her due to her being a peasant during her mortal hood.

I have this funny idea that Miranda only prepared things that Eva would ever want when Eva returns, and not things she would need. For instance, Miranda doesn't have an actual house for Eva and herself to live in once Eva comes back. She just didn't think that far when it came to the whole rebirth. And one could blame it on the fact she is always too engrossed in her research to think of all of it.

Miranda doesn't know how to flirt. She was the one getting flirted with in the past when it truly mattered. But now Miranda is the big, powerful woman who most people fear so no one is going to be stupid enough to do such a thing now. This means if she now catches some type of romantic attraction to someone, she is going to have to be the one to initiate it. This is horrible for poor Miranda cause her flirting would make the person believe they are next to be killed instead of giving them butterflies.

Eva does come in her dreams, and no she doesn't appear in Miranda’s dreams, but Eva's soul purposely comes in her mom’s dreams. It is the real reason why Miranda has such strong faith in the mold to bring her daughter back. Sometimes Eva tells Miranda riddles, that Miranda always forgets in the morning or doesn't understand.

Miranda was forced to marry Eva’s father, but I wouldn't say the marriage was horrible. Eva’s father was a kind man and had died due to the same sickness that took his daughter. Unfortunately, he was the reason Eva caught the Spanish Flu since he passed it on to her before his passing. Miranda had a hatred towards him for many years because of this, which is also the reason why she doesn't work to bring her daughter and her father back.

Miranda finds it funny to annoy people or piss them off. She especially does this toward the lords because they are her easiest targets. Miranda finds it most funny to secretly annoy Alcina since Alcina gives the best reactions to being annoyed, except for Karl. Karl is her second favorite to annoy since he keeps his anger within, and it looks like he is a vibrating machine with how his body trembles out of annoyance from Miranda’s antics. Moreau is her least favorite because he just whines when he ever notices Miranda purposely annoying him. Miranda doesn't even know how to annoy Donna when that veil is in the way of seeing Donna’s reactions, so Miranda just gives up on that most of the time.

Miranda had forgotten part of Eva’s face for some time until Eveline was created, and Miranda finally remembered Eva’s full face from looking at Eveline’s.

Also after she remembers, Miranda takes a day to sketch out Eva's face as much as she can. Doesn't matter what type of paper or what type of writing utensil, Miranda would sketch her baby’s face out with whatever she can get her hands on at the moment as long as it helps her not forget ever again.

Miranda has been a tad bit…unhinged since she was mortal. It’s probably due to how she looked in that picture when she was holding baby Eva that I believe this. I don't know if it's just me but it just looks like she would do some outlandish shit if you give her a good reason to do so.

Like come on, look at her eyes.

Those don't look like crazy eyes to y'all? Just me? Okay 😔

Miranda forgot like a lot of her memories, the only ones she remembers is her favorite ones with Eva. And that’s only because she draws them — well sketch’s them — during her free time.

Am I tying this headcanon due to Miranda having short hair which means she probably cut it?

Yes.

(If you don’t understand, it’s because of the theory, I believe it is, that when you cut your hair, you are cutting off memories of your past.)

ANYWAY THATS ALL MY CURRENT HEADCANONS 😋🫶🏾 this is me also clearing out drafts since it’s been here for a longgg time.

[rallamajoop]

On the Backgrounds and Ages of the Four Lords

So, as previously mentioned, I've gotten a bit fixated on puzzling out all the (admittedly limited) clues we get about the backstories of the four lords. Who joined the family when? How old were they? Were they all from noble families? There isn't a lot of hard info, but the tidbits we get provide some interesting clues.

This is all likely to get a bit tl;dr, so have the short version up front:

Dimitrescu and her daughters all joined Miranda's family sometime between 1920 and 1958 (though probably not at the same time). Dimitrescu was 44 years old.

Heisenberg joined the family sometime after Dimitrescu ‒ probably much later (he may even be younger than her daughters).

Donna joined the family sometime after 1996, probably in her late teens/early twenties (and is definitely younger than Dimitrescu's daughters).

Moreau could have joined any time from 1920 onwards; there's not much to go on.

And there's a surprisingly good case to be made that none of them may be really descended from village's legendary 'four founders'. (But believe me, I've found so much more to talk about than just that.)

On the lords' ages

So, there’s this widespread idea that Heisenberg (and presumably the other lords) were only children when Miranda began her experiments on them. Personally, I don’t think this adds up. I’d assume it comes from Heisenberg’s statements to the effect of ‘she took us to be her children’ etc, (and maybe Dimitrescu’s dismissal of him as ‘but a child’) – though he never does say, ‘we were only children’, just that Miranda had treated them that way.

What little information we do have about the lords pre-experimentation all points towards their being taken as adults – Dimitrescu and Donna being the two we know the most about. Miranda’s notes on ‘experiment 181’ gives ‘Alcina D’s age at the time of cadou implantation as a thoroughly mature 44 (notably, other test subjects mentioned in the same document are also 20+).

We don’t have as exact an age for when Donna was adopted by Miranda, but in discussing the event, the gardener’s diary at the Beneviento’s household does say she’s been an outsider ‘ever since childhood’ – ergo, childhood is in her past. Granted, childhood may not be all that far behind her, if being adopted by someone like Miranda isn’t too weird, but late teens/early twenties would fit – and tracks with how she looks too.

Also worth noting is that Dimitrescu’s three ‘daughters’ have remained ‘children’ since at least 1958. They don’t look all that much younger than Donna, but they do add some supporting evidence to suggest that cadou implantation functionally freezes you at that age indefinitely. Now, as amalgamations of monstrous flies masquerading in humanoid shape, it's quite possible the Dimitrescu daughters are outliers even in Miranda’s twisted family, but I think the point still stands: everything points to Dimitrescu and Heisenberg being their full-grown, middle-aged selves long before Miranda ever got her hands on them.

What year each of the four lords joined Miranda’s family is the more interesting question – the dates we’ve got may be more spread out than you'd think.

Miranda

Miranda’s own encounter with the megamycete is the one we have the most concrete info on: it occurred shortly after her daughter’s death in the Spanish Flu outbreak a hundred years ago, so presumably 1919 or 1920. Images during the game’s credits show a little of the village’s history as Miranda began experimenting on the villagers, presumably soon afterwards, given the epidemic still seems to be in action.

How soon she began her cadou experiments isn’t clear, but was certainly by the 1950s at the very latest.

Lady Dimitrescu (and family)

Lady Dimitrescu is one we have a loose date on: from the maid’s diary we know that both she and her daughters were well-established in the castle by 1958. She may well be the oldest of the four lords. Miranda lists "Alcina D" as her 181st subject – experimentation had clearly been going for a good while by that point. As noted above, she was 44 years old.

Considering how effortlessly she inhabits her role, and considering what we're told about the village's four noble families, it's no surprise that Miranda records "Alcina D" as being of "noble descent." That she carries a 'hereditary blood disease' (presumably hemophilia: famously common in European nobility due to inbreeding) only adds to the picture.

So it is surprising that Miranda goes on to note that she's "not from the village," and Dimitrescu's own diary states that Miranda gave her the castle and her daughters (much as Moreau talks about being ‘given’ his mountain). Even the winemaking notes vaguely allude to the castle having previous occupants (implied: not the Dimitrescu family).

The original Japanese version of Miranda's experiment notes provides one interesting clue: here "Alcina D" isn't just 'of noble descent', but specifically descended from a fallen noble ‒ a detail which begins to paint an interesting picture. It's hard to imagine Miranda doing many experiments on outsiders from wealthy families, whose disappearance could raise difficult questions. But a former aristocrat fallen on hard times (and suffering from hemophilia to boot) might even be prepared to volunteer for Miranda's 'treatments', if given the hope of having her health and fortune restored. So Lady D certainly comes from privilege, but perhaps from somewhat further afield than you might think.

There’s a fan theory that Lady Dimitrescu was in fact the same jazz singer pictured on the cover of a CD you can find in Ethan and Mia’s home, by a band called ‘Lady D and the Pallboys’. And while I think people treating it as definitive canon are getting carried away by what’s more of an easter-egg at best, it's not impossible. A younger Alcina might well have had to work to support herself in the years before meeting Miranda.

The bit about being ‘given’ her daughters seems to hold water too. Though Lady Dimitrescu clearly took many cadou research subjects from her own servants, it may have been Miranda who performed the experiment that created her daughters: she's the one featured in the photo in the book detailing their creation, and the text sounds far more like her voice than Dimitrescu’s.

There's some conflicting info about how much control Lady D has over her transformation into her mutated form. In game, she transforms only after being stabbed with a poisoned dagger, and it doesn't seem that voluntary ‒ in one voice line, she declares that only Miranda has ever seen that form before. So it's odd that Miranda describes her as having 'arbitrary control' over body transformation in her notes on Subject 181 ‒ only to later speculate that "if the subject's regeneration is not properly balanced then she may mutate uncontrollably" in the report from her lab at the end of the game, which suggests no control at all.

This is another detail that does add up a little better in the original Japanese, which may be closer to, "There is also concern that cell division will not be controlled if the metabolic balance is disrupted by poisonous substances" ‒ the speculation there is specifically about poison making her vulnerable, or making her lose control (which it certainly does in game).

Whatever her history, the name 'Dimitrescu' is apparently the one genuine Romanian surname among the lords. Etymologies suggest it may be related to the Greek Demeter, the goddess of spring, whose grief at the loss of her own daughter plunged the whole world into an endless winter ‒ so definitely some interesting thematic parallels there.

Donna Beneviento

Up the far opposite end of the scale, we have Donna Beneviento – almost certainly the youngest of the four lords. We don’t have a hard date for Donna either, but it was clearly after 1996 (and incredibly, there’s a case to be made that it may have been as recent as 2017). But see my other post for (much) more on the mysterious Beneviento family.

Still, even if "the four lords" have been around for much longer than 25 years, how do we know it was always the same four? Maybe Heisenberg wasn't the first to rebel.

The name ‘Beneviento’ sounds Italian (as does 'Donna'), but doesn’t seem to be a genuine Italian name. Possibly ‘Benevento’ is what they were aping.

Karl Heisenberg

Heisenberg gives us much less to go on. He alludes to having spent ‘decades’ as Miranda’s ‘son’ (so, let’s assume he can't have joined the family more recently than the 90’s at the very latest). Dimitrescu dismisses him as ‘but a child’, which does suggest he’s a lot younger than her. Given that Dimitrescu’s daughters joined the family before 1958, and that Miranda was still completing her little family as recently as 1996, this makes it entirely possible that Heisenberg is actually younger than little Bela, Cassandra and Daniela. Which certainly puts a different spin on that ‘but a child’ line – never mind that that man is over 40 if he’s a day old.

The dog tag Heisenberg wears is potentially significant, but not very specific. The shape and design matches German dog tags which came in during WWI, and were still in use through WWII and presumably beyond. Modern designs differ, but it's hard to find good info on when that shape fell out of use. Mind you, I've seen Romanian dog tags of the same shape too ‒ it seems to have been widely used. So this may well hint that Heisenberg served in the military somewhere, somewhen, but it could also have belonged to a friend or family member. The other objects he wears are a compass and a scale, FWIW.

Interestingly, a couple of tidbits from the Japanese game text strongly suggest Heisenberg’s ‘lordly’ status is little more than fiction. It’s not just that Dimitrescu dismisses him as ‘riffraff’ in her diary (though this, too, is stronger in Japanese, where he’s more specifically ‘of low blood’). What's more interesting is that Heisenberg’s own diary echoes the same idea.

Where in English it reads "I was just lucky I had more affinity to the stuff than the other poor shmucks in the village" there’s a preceding clause in the Japanese version (貴族なんて身分も) that seems to mock the idea of his ‘aristocratic’ status. This one being a little beyond my own fangirl Japanese, I threw it to my sister (the one who actually spent a year in Japan), and she suggested something more like, ‘Aristocrats? Status? Hah! We just happened to have better compatibility than regular villagers, that's it.’ Neither of us are super-fluent speakers, but the implication Heisenberg’s called a ‘lord’ only because he happened to survive Miranda’s experiments still comes through.

Heisenberg is, of course, a German name – obviously taken from the theoretical physicist Werner Karl Heisenberg, of uncertainty principle fame, which also ties in with the character’s mad science theme.

Salvatore Moreau

Which brings us to Moreau, at which point I can only really give up. He could be as young as Donna or as old as Dimitrescu ‒ there’s next to nothing to hint at how long he’s been around. We know he’s responsible for creating the first varcolac, and that he had at least one assistant at some point, but the latter did not survive the creation of the former.

That ‘Moreau’s clinic’ sign (complete with picture of a syringe) may hint that he had some past career as a doctor – or it may just be pointing to wherever he ran his experiments on unwitting villagers. Still, the fact it’s so much nicer that the roughly-written sign pointing to his new mountain laboratory does suggest it might be a relic from an earlier life.

In addition to the big 'Mother' tattoo with the jellyfish, anyone paying really close attention might also spot a faint anchor tattoo on his forearm, and a rather cute fish tattoo on the underside. This may all hint at a nautical background, or they could just be your basic fish man = sailor tattoos association.

Speaking of Moreau, given the general hostility that characterises Miranda’s family, it’s surprising the one and only positive interaction between any of them comes from Moreau’s diary. According to Moreau, Heisenberg comforted him about his place in the family, telling him they were each given a flask because they were all needed at the ceremony. Maybe this came out more sneering in person, but given how Heisenberg later dismisses Moreau as ‘that moronic freak’, it’s surprisingly nice of him to bother – even with what he presumably knew was no more than a comforting lie.

Although Miranda's notes describe him as being unable to control his transformation into his giant fish form, it's notable that Moreau is the only character we do see shift back into human form after he first appears transformed. That said, the rest of his behaviour does suggest his control is somewhat limited (and even that Miranda may be manipulating him remotely).

The name ‘Moreau’ comes of course from The Island of Doctor Moreau, famed for creating animal-human hybrids (who likewise had difficulty controlling their animal sides). But it’s also a real French name ‒ apparently one that originated as a nickname for someone with dark skin (from 'more').

A bit more on those lordships

How legit the nobility of the ‘four lords’ is supposed to be is an interesting question. By fairy tale video game logic, it’s only natural that Miranda’s four most successful experiments should represent the four noble families of the region: the ceremony site features four giant statues, you can collect relics that mention the village’s four founders, etc.

But in practice, only Dimitrescu is really referred to as ‘Lady Dimitrescu’, or any other title (if you're paying really close attention, you might catch the Duke referring to 'Lord Heisenberg' and 'Lord Moreau' when you sell him their remains, but in his introductory spiel, it's only Dimitrescu who gets any honours). Donna at least comes from a family rich enough to have a gardener, but Heisenberg and Moreau live in a factory and a dam: not especially 'noble'.

Stranger still, the names on those relics belonging to the 'four founders' aren’t Dimitrescu, Beneviento, Heisenberg and Moreau, they’re Berengario, Cesare, Guglielmo and Father Nichola. Now, these could be first names rather than family names (all seem to exist as both), but they're also all Italian, which makes for an odd combination the French, German and Romanian surnames of the 'lords' we meet in the game. You can find the current lords' names carved in stone in the wall of one of the caves (pictured above) ‒ but just because it's carved in stone doesn't have to mean it's been there forever.

Throw in the fact that Dimitrescu is apparently not from the village, and how Heisenberg mocks the idea of himself as any kind of lord, comparing himself to the 'other poor schmucks in the village', and the whole idea that any of these four are legitimately descended from those founders starts to look pretty suss.

It seems to be a popular theory that Heisenberg at least (and potentially Moreau too) was simply random experimental subjects that Miranda renamed in honour of region’s one-time noble families, raising them to lordly status to support her own legitimacy. But if those old relics are to be believed (to say nothing of the experiment report for 'Alcina D'), I'd actually go a step further and suggest maybe she didn’t even bother renaming anyone. After all, if Mother Miranda declares that the four great houses of the village are (and always were) Dimitrescu, Heisenberg, Beneviento and Moreau, who'd dare contradict her?

On Miranda's filing system

Near the very end of the game, when Chris explores Miranda’s laboratory, we find four books containing her research notes on the four lords. Now, I am absolutely reaching with at this point, but I can’t help wonder if the order of these four books might just be significant – the order in which those four experiments took place, perhaps?

True, the books are lying on the table, rather than filed neatly in order in the bookshelf – but they’re not in the order you fight the four lords (the sequence those symbols appear in elsewhere). Donna’s is the last of the four, which would be consistent with her being the youngest. And Heisenberg’s is to the right of Dimitrescu’s, which tracks with him being younger than her.

So it’s interesting that the first in the set isn’t Dimitrescu’s (as I’ve already speculated above), but Moreau’s. Lady D is second, Heisenberg third, and Donna last. So could Moreau be the eldest sibling? He doesn’t carry anything like Dimitrescu's authority, but there is a certain twisted logic to the idea the hideously deformed Moreau may have been one of Miranda’s earliest experiments. And there's a compelling tragedy to the idea of him as Miranda’s first son, supplanted and outdone by each new sibling to follow him as the years went on.

(Or, you know, Miranda might just have left those four books lying around at random, the order meaning nothing at all. It’s all speculation down here.)

The Duke

No discussion of the four lords would be entirely complete without touching on the fact the Duke was at one point intended to be the fifth lord of the village. Between his name, the fact he's got some sort of weird powers, and has obviously been involved in all the weirdness around the village for a long time, this is hardly surprising.

So it's a little disappointing that the fact that he "was going to be the fifth lord" is pretty much all the notes that come with his artwork will tell us on the subject.

His villainous role in the Shadows of Rose DLC logically should have been a big clue here, but if anything, the Masked Duke only muddies the waters. Miranda's notes on the subject tell us he's merely a twisted copy of "a man I once knew." Which doesn't exactly suggest he was ever one of her experiments, let alone one of her 'lords'.

Either way, the owl crest that can be glimpsed in the background of Duke's shop (above left) and in his carriage (above right) is exactly the kind of throwaway detail that could fuel years of fan speculation. The carriage version bears the text "L'argent defend le droit" (apparently French for 'Money defends the right/the law'), which is certainly fitting.

But the text on the shop background (as near as anyone can make out) reads "The Right Honourable Lady Carolyn Margaret Divine" ‒ a reference to nothing and no-one any RE fan has been able to identify. It could be a reference to material that got cut. It could be a vital clue to a future RE title. Or they could just be fucking with us at this point.

Aaand that about wraps it up for the four lords.

As I said back on my original Donna post, I really don't think there are any definitive answers to the RE: Village timeline. If you'd prefer to headcanon that the Moreaus were once the village's most respected founding family or that the Dimitrescus have lived in that castle for generations, knock yourselves out ‒ there's nothing in the game to say they couldn't have been. Half the stuff that seems to add up one way or the other may be just a happy accident. But the clues still we get fascinate me, and coming up with theories that could fit all the little details hidden in documents and optional dialogue is exactly the kind of challenge I'm here for.

[bradshawsbaby]

Letters to My Love // Part V

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 3.7k

Author’s Note: As always, if you’re interested in learning more about the historical context of any of the letters, or if you have any questions about anything that gets discussed, feel free to reach out! I will say that Bob’s mother’s remedy for influenza that gets mentioned in this chapter was a real “home cure” that people used to use back in the day!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story!

The title for this chapter comes from The Andrews Sisters song of the same name.

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to @luminousnotmatter​. I could thank you endlessly for all the love and support!

Warnings: Alternating POV, references to war and its impact, mentions of rationing, discussion of war casualties and death, references to church and prayer, a ton of fluff as always.

October 12, 1942

Dear Peach,

First of all, I want to start by saying that I’m so sorry for the troubles your family went through at the end of the summer. Little Frankie sounds like quite the trooper, but I’m sure it must have been hard on all of you to see him so sick like that. I’m real, real glad to hear that he’s on the mend. Dottie, too.

It’s funny—even though I’ve never met her, it’s not hard at all for me to believe that your sister was one of the few babies who survived the Spanish Flu back in 1918. From everything you’ve shared with me, it sounds like it would take a lot to break Dottie Sheridan. I’d bet my last dollar that she gives Paddy a run for his money on a regular basis. Maybe don’t tell her I said that though. I do want her to like me, should we ever get to meet in person one day.

You know, a couple summers back, my little brothers ended up coming down with a case of influenza. It seemed as though they picked it up from some of the kids they’d been playing with. It might sound crazy, but my mother would take a handkerchief, sprinkle it with whiskey, and make my brothers inhale the fumes every night before they went to bed. I don’t know where she learned that remedy, but would you believe that the two of them were right as rain after just four days? I’m confident that everyone in your household is the picture of health now, but you might want to give it a try should anyone else come down with the flu. I can’t explain it, but it did seem to do the trick!

I’ll selfishly admit that the weeks that went by without receiving a letter from you were desolate ones indeed. I received a couple letters from home, which were wonderful, but I found that my mind kept wandering back to sunny Charleston instead of the farmlands of Iowa. When I finally saw your handwriting on the envelope they handed me during Mail Call, it took everything in me not to jump up and down like a fool and make a scene. Just like you, I’ve been rereading your letters each night before lights out. I know we haven’t been exchanging messages for long, but each one lifts my spirits more than you could know. And around these parts, that’s a real special thing.

Despite being so far away from home and from everything that’s familiar and comfortable, when I close my eyes and imagine sharing a slice of your mama’s peach tart or getting to dance with you again and hear your pretty voice, I feel as though everything’s going to be alright. Even if the feeling only lasts for a minute or two, it gives me something to hold onto in the moments when it feels like maybe the world really is going to pieces. So thank you for that. Your kindness and your sweet words of encouragement are helping me get through this war, minute by minute and day by day.

I think, if you’re agreeable to it, that I’d really like to take you up on your offer to show you the world one day. Maybe even from up in the air. I may be Paul’s backseat gunner, but I know a thing or two about piloting an aircraft. You can trust me. Any places in particular you’d like to see, Peach? I’m all ears.

I promise you that I am most certainly NOT remembering you through rose-colored glasses. If you remember, my glasses are very much of the non-rose-tinted variety. But they do aid my vision, which helped me to see that night back in May just how absolutely swell you are. I hope it doesn’t embarrass you if I say that I still remember the way your smile put the stars to shame that night on King Street. And though I know no rehearsal is necessary, it does make me quite happy to think that you’ll be practicing a song with me in mind. I know any song you pick will be beautiful, but how about “Someone to Watch Over Me?” It was the first song we danced to, after all. And I’m sure you’ll knock it out of the park. If Gershwin was still alive, I know he’d be thrilled to hear someone doing such justice to his music.

I’ll have you know that it took me quite some time to get the peace and quiet I needed to write this letter because Tommy Boy and Benny simply would not stop chattering in my ear. At first, it was just more of their usual advice—most of which, for your sake, I don’t actually take—but then I realized they were trying to pass along messages of their own to you! I very clearly, and perhaps a bit selfishly, told them that you were my pen pal and that they’d just have to go find some of their own. Benny pouted a bit, but Tommy Boy just grinned, slapped me on the shoulder, and told me he’d never been prouder.

They both say hello, by the way. I did agree to pass that much along.

Paul’s sitting near me right now, writing his own letter home to Natasha and the kids. He wanted me to thank you for your prayers and for your kind words. He’s not one to get all mushy most of the time, but I can tell that your thoughts for him and his family really do mean a lot to him. And he said he’s definitely going to take you up on that jewelry offer when we get home. He may have made some comment about buttering Natasha up when we finally return home, after leaving her alone with two babies for so long. Although, now that I think about it, my little goddaughter, Clara always insists that she’s a big girl. So I’m sure she would take great offense at me referring to her as a baby. Promise you won’t tell on me?

Peach, I hope you know how truly extraordinary you are. I find it just about impossible to believe that people don’t take notice of you. To me, that feels like people taking a stroll outside and not taking notice of the sun. But it means more to me than words can say that you can relate to me in that way. Feeling like you see me, like you really understand me—that doesn’t happen to me often. Especially not with girls as lovely as you. I’m very much looking forward to us getting to know each other better and better.

As far as childhood stories go, I want to make it very clear that Paul and Natasha were solely responsible for any and all mischief that was had in our youth. I was very much just along for the ride. I promise you that it wasn’t my idea to put frogs in our mean teacher’s purse during the school picnic when we were in the third grade. And I certainly wasn’t the one who kidnapped our class hamster so that he could “live a life of freedom in the great outdoors.” Though I will admit I may have been present when the crime was committed. I was a very nerdy and awkward kid, which I’m sure isn’t hard at all for you to imagine, so I do have to credit Paul and Natasha with providing me with some of the most exciting and interesting moments of my life. There’s hardly a memory I have that doesn’t involve the two of them. I think you and Natasha would get on wonderfully. Maybe one day, the two of you will get to meet.

What about you, Miss Peach? Were you a rebel growing up in Georgia, or a goody two shoes like me?

I’m glad to hear that President Roosevelt is keeping you all informed back home, but I’m sorry to hear that the prices are still going up. I know you already mentioned that they started rationing sugar. I hope more rations aren’t coming your way, but, truth be told, I have a sinking feeling that they will be. We’ve been burning through supplies like crazy over here, and it always feels like a scramble to get more of what we need. But I’d still hate to think of you or anyone else having to go without. It just doesn’t seem right. But then, I suppose a lot in this world doesn’t feel right at the moment.

Thank you for sharing the president’s words with me, Peach. I passed them on to the rest of the fellas, and we’re all mighty appreciative of it. I have to say, even if it was Roosevelt’s words, they sounded a lot sweeter coming from you. My safety and comfort feel like a small price to pay if it means that you and my family and the rest of the good folks back home get to rest well each night.

I hate to end my letter to you on a sad note, but thinking of men who aren’t concerned about themselves makes me think of some of the boys that we just lost recently. Just last week, in fact. They weren’t part of my squadron, but I did know several of them. They were a couple years ahead of me at Annapolis, and they were bunking on the carrier with my squadron. Good men, every single one of them. They were shot down during what was supposed to be a fairly routine fly-over. They leave behind mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, fiancées, sweethearts, and friends. But I think a part of them will still be here, so long as those of us who remember them are still around. They were men, like President Roosevelt said, who put duty and country before themselves. And they deserve to be remembered.

We also recently lost some enlisted men—some sailors on a nearby carrier. We’d gotten to know them pretty well these past few months, and it was a tough blow. I was saddest to learn about the death of a boy named Timmy [REDACTED]. I say boy because that’s what he was. We got to talking one night, him and I, and he admitted to me that he was only sixteen. He’d lied about his age and somehow managed to squeak on by—my guess is that with the draft on, they’re willing to look the other way when boys jump up to volunteer. Sixteen years old. I tell you, I don’t think I could have stomached this at sixteen. I can barely stomach it now at twenty-two. I promised him I wouldn’t tell, and I feel a little guilty to be breaking that promise now that he’s gone, but I think someone else besides me should know how brave he was. He gave everything he had for the family and the country that he loved. I know I’ll never forget him. I know I keep piling more and more names on your list, but maybe you can remember him, too? That way, his legacy will live on. I think he’d be happy to know that.

If any of my letters ever feel like too much to you, Peach, please let me know. I don’t want to unburden my own heart at the cost of your peace of mind. I’m thankful for all the ways you listen and make me feel heard, even with the entire Atlantic in between us. Just getting these words down on paper, knowing that you’ll be reading them soon, fills me with a great sense of calm. Has anyone ever told you what a great pen pal you are?

My mother wouldn’t be happy if she heard me admitting this, but sometimes I’m so dead tired at the end of the night that I fall asleep without saying my prayers. On the nights that I do manage to stay awake, however, I pray for you right after my family, you and Paddy and Dottie and Frankie. I pray that you’re safe and happy and well. I’m always glad to hear that it’s so.

Goodbye for now, Peach. I look forward to your next letter, as I always do.

Very Sincerely Yours,

Bobby

November 3, 1942

Dear Bobby,

I was so thrilled to receive your last letter in the mail, but I admit that I was crying like a baby by the end of it. I’m so sorry for the friends that you lost, especially young Timmy. Sorry always seems like such a trite thing to say in the face of such a tragedy, doesn’t it? It doesn’t feel like it encompasses even half of the pain and the grief and the sorrow that follow in the wake of such horror. But for lack of any other words that would suffice, I’m afraid that “I’m sorry” is all that I can say. Please know that I mean it from the very bottom of my heart.

I hope you don’t mind, but I showed the last part of your letter to Dottie. She walked into the kitchen and was very concerned about why I was such a bawling mess, so I thought it would be better if she heard it directly from you. My big sister is much less prone to tears than I am, but even she cried when she read your beautiful tribute to that young man. We went to church the next day and lit candles in honor of Timmy and all the young men who were lost. I’m so incredibly touched that you would want to share their memories with me, Bobby. I will most certainly treasure them in my heart and pass them along to anyone I can. I don’t want them to be forgotten either. I don’t think anyone deserves to be forgotten. Everyone leaves their mark on this world, no matter how tiny it might seem to others. Even at just sixteen, Timmy clearly left his mark.

I can only begin to imagine what it must be like for you over there, flying dangerous missions yourself and watching those around you, men who you’ve shared laughs and good times with, make that final sacrifice. Please don’t ever feel like you can’t share it with me, Bobby. If you have to live it every day, and face that reality, then the very least I can do is lend a listening ear. I’m always here for you, whatever you need to get off your chest.

To be honest, you’re the first real pen pal I’ve ever had. I’m glad to hear that I’m doing a good job, because I happen to think you’re a terrific pen pal, and I wouldn’t want to let you down in return. It’s kind of funny—when I’m sitting down to read your letters or write one of my own, I sometimes forget that there’s an entire ocean between us. Sometimes, when I read your words, it feels like you’re right here next to me. I can hear your voice, even if it was so long ago now that we were last together. And it just makes it all feel so real to me. You’re a rather wonderful writer, you know.

Hm, now let’s see. Which part of your wonderful letter should I respond to next? I have it laid out in front of me right now, so that I don’t miss or forget anything. Should we discuss your mother’s rather unorthodox cure for the flu? I’d never heard of whiskey in a handkerchief before! I thought Paddy was going to split his sides from laughing so hard when I told him and Dottie. He said that he’s not so sure he should be sticking booze in his baby’s face, but that he’d be more than happy to try that remedy himself! We’d only ever been aware of good, old-fashioned chicken noodle soup and lots of rest. I’m hoping we don’t have another influenza scare any time soon, but we’ll be sure to try the whiskey trick if we do.

Now as for seeing the world—I’ve never been flying before. On the one hand, it seems very exciting and exhilarating, but on the other hand, it seems like the most terrifying prospect in the world. Bless those Wright brothers for being the first ones to give it a go. I suppose if I ever wanted to expand my horizons, however, I’d have to get on an airplane. Ocean liners aren’t exactly the most efficient means of travel. And if I’d trust anyone to take me up in the air for the first time, it would be you, Bobby. Like I mentioned once before, my parents went to Paris for their honeymoon, so I’ve always wanted to see it. Did you know that they call it the city of love? I suppose it must be very romantic with a nickname like that. I’ve also always wanted to see Italy—the Colosseum, the Pantheon, all that amazing art. I imagine it must be so magical. Maybe not right this moment, but Rome has certainly survived its fair share of catastrophes, if I remember my history correctly. I’m sure it will survive this, too.

How about you, Bobby? What parts of the world would you like to see when all of this is over?

“Someone to Watch Over Me” is one of my favorite songs. And now every time I hear it, I think of you and that dance we shared at the USO. If that’s the song that you’d like to hear, then I’ll happily start practicing it right away. Mr. Gershwin certainly knew what he was doing when it came to composing, didn’t he?

Don’t tell them this—we wouldn’t want them getting big heads now—but I always find it to be a delight when you share stories of Tommy Boy and Benny. It makes me so happy to know that you have such good friends over there with you. And I always get a good laugh, imagining their antics. You must have the patience of a saint, Bobby, to put up with all of it. As I’ve said before, I know all too well what it’s like to have to hide away to carve out a little peace for letter writing—Dottie is constantly trying to throw her two cents in whenever she can. I actually have Frankie to thank for my solitude at the moment. He’s been a bit fussy, so Dottie hurried off to check on him. I adore my sister more than life itself, but even I can admit that it’s a bit easier to concentrate when she’s distracted.

I absolutely cross my heart that I will never let it slip past my lips that you called our young Clara a baby. It will be our little secret. I’m sure she and Natasha and Paul, Jr. will be thrilled to receive the letter Paul’s writing to them. Paul sounds like such a wonderful husband and father. He reminds me of Paddy in that way. The two of them seem to have a lot in common. Tell Paul that I’m more than happy to lend any assistance I can to helping him pick out the perfect gift for buttering up his wife. Trust me, I’ve helped my dear brother-in-law do it on more than one occasion.

Speaking of Paul and Natasha, I’m shocked to learn they were such little hooligans when the three of you were growing up. Frogs in your teacher’s purse? Kidnapping the classroom hamster? What kind of trouble did you not get into, I should ask? I think that perhaps you were more of a little rebel than you’re willing to admit, Ensign Floyd. I myself was quite the prim and proper little lady growing up back home in Georgia. Believe me, I was much too shy to be getting into any sort of trouble with anyone. Truth be told, I really sort of kept to myself, even when I was a child. But I always had Dottie, thank goodness. She’s four years older, and she’s always looked out for me. She’s my best friend and my biggest champion. It would be lovely to get to meet Natasha one day, too. Any friend of yours must be a delightful person who I’m sure I would like very much.

Your words are sweet as honey, Bobby, and make me feel just as warm and cozy inside. Whenever I’m having a difficult day, or the weight of the world’s troubles feel like they’re pressing down on me, I read your letters and they never fail to make me smile. I always knew that there were good men out there in the world—my father and Paddy have always been prime examples of that to me—but I think I was starting to doubt that there were many men left who were truly kind and good-hearted. You put those fears in my heart to rest. You are such a good man. I know we haven’t known each other long, and that most of our conversations have been through letters, but your warmth and your kindness always shine through.

I may not be able to speak to how unhappy your mother would be to learn about you falling asleep before your prayers—I like to think she’d understand, given the circumstances—but I can say with total confidence, despite never having met her, that she would be very happy and proud to know just what kind of man her oldest son is. I’m sure she already knows and is already so proud.

I keep you in my prayers every night, too, Bobby. You and Paul and his family and Tommy Boy and Benny, and all the rest of your squadron. All I ask for is that you all come home safely. And soon.

You’re in my thoughts. I look forward, as always, to your next letter, whenever it may arrive.

Affectionately Yours,

Peach

P.S. I almost forgot to mention that it was Frankie’s first Halloween! Unfortunately, the annual parade in town was canceled, but everyone still decorated and the children in the neighborhood got to go trick-or-treating. Dottie made Frankie a little pumpkin costume—he was the cutest little pumpkin you ever did see! We still have some candy lying around the house, which I wish I could send to you. Did Clara, Paul, Jr., and your brothers dress up this year? I hope they had lots of fun!

[kaengeru]

cyberpunk 2077 au ramblings (because you asked for this!!)

(shorthand: streetkid=purple. nomad=cowboy. corpo=monochrome.)

OKAY to start, this is ALL cyberpunk2077!au that ignores the story for the most part. nomad is the only one who is intrinsically tied to the relic plot. the other two have some vague connect to the lifepath background to a point, but otherwise dont end up in the same hole. THEY ARE all around 23/24 at their current state(s). (also: apologies if anyone thought i meant they were actually related - each of them are just a different cyberpunk!au of enya) theres sarah too of course! but im still working on his different designs and he is Not the main character, sorry bud. you will get a snack of him because he is always important to her story <3 GOD. OKAY. ANYWAY. if you know nothing about the game im sorry (my knowledge is only from 2077 and internet research anyway) but here we go!!

streetkid; solo. sante muerte theme. also Purple and/or gold. MAXIMUM chrome. shotguns, sandevistan, mantis blades.

-the most similar to default enya. ANGRY. loud, brash, quick to violence. aggressively hetero. comes off more composed in the downtime between jobs from her excessive confidence. smokes, drinks, drugs, alls fun and fair. lazy grins. head tilts. hands in pockets. baggy pants, tie-front bras, tennis shoes.

-known as rabbit/coneja rather than v, due to a few tattoos, her tendency for jumping fences, jumping onto people, and rabbit-kicking her way out of a tough spot (the chrome she's got makes bone breaking very easy and fun). heywood born and bred. russian/spanish. speaks both fluently but leans heavier on the russian to throw people off (this backfires frequently outside of her immediate neighborhood, where people will often assume she's a scavenger).

-physical embodiment of "why do i hear boss music?". alternates between horror movie villain casually walking after people, or DOOM slayer run-n-gun. thorough, albeit not precise in her work. incapable of subtly or silent tactics. shooting people is way easier than talking to them; will give valentinos the smallest bit of leeway, but so little no one except her can tell. VERY hard to kill. mantis blades are almost exclusively used in tight spots, and even then, if a grenade will do the trick, thats more fun anyways.

-high-functioning cyberpsycho (with a legit diagnosis just in case she does snap, they can make her a nice statistic), virtually no empathy/humanity. very disconnected with her self of self. about 75-80% chrome - including both necessary and for improved functions - with a preference toward (funny enough) subtle or hidden cyberware. WAY heavier than she looks with basal caloric needs being stupid high so she is constantly eating. mostly things she finds (steals) (digs out of the pockets of someone she just killed) etc. her lack of social awareness is most obvious when it comes to food because if it is there, she will take it.

-brief history: mom dies when she's 9 during a bird flu pandemic. dad gets killed when she gets grabbed by some maelstromers for cyberware experiments with a couple other kids at 12. ends up as a violent little street urchin between mandated therapy sessions. starts working simple jobs around 15, largely thefts and such, getting her first hit when she's 17 (though she's already killed her fair share of people). almost all the money she makes is put into upgrading and adding onto her cyberware.

-the sarah connection: her, 17/18. him 19. first contact is she and her "buddies" bullying him into taking his shirt off (to prove he isn't a tyger claw) (because theyre awful). he's new to the city, working as a cook for a local dumpling place that she frequent(ly breaks into to steal food). most similar to default enya/sarah beginnings where she simply will Not leave him alone, though he's more anxious in this realm (for good reason) so she wins out faster.

-he lives in the apartment above the restaurant (owner doesnt because its been broken into numerous times) (guess who) and works a lot, so they often spend their time sitting on the roof and talking. sort of mellows her out, having a comfortable space to explore feelings and whatnot helps process Things, including these weird emotions she gets when she looks at him.

-he dies when shes 21. just gets mugged by a couple guys. closest she comes to a full psychotic break, and likely would of if she hadnt found the culprits in quick succession. theyre left an unrecognizable mess and she's given a friendly warning that the ncpd has her as their prime suspect and she should probably stay out of sight for a while. then streetkid path: goes to atlanta, comes back 2 years later, etc. would probably run into jackie but doesnt work well with others, so, hey, she'll take a free lunch but thats about it.

-dies before her thirties. no blaze of glory etc. just gets gutted in a back alley after finally picking the wrong fight and bleeds out behind a dumpster. she is, surprisingly, fine with this - she's had a pervasive sense of suicidal ideation for a LONG while, but was never going to do it herself, and everyone else sucks at it.

-shoving this info somewhere:

=low INT. has a vague grasp on how to navigate some systems and read a little bit of code, but could much more easily disassemble a deck. that and no people skills. says what needs to be said. impulsive and unpredictable but not unstable. =not a believer in sante muerte, but very much enjoys the concept and messing with valentinos where possible. also was never a part of the tinos, but has a fair number of connections within the gang. =the sort who will roll over to sleep for a couple hours, then get right back to business when she wakes up. not good with quiet or stillness, cannot be alone with her thoughts for an extended period. always has to be doing something.

-im definitely forgetting SOMETHING but this motherfucker is my favorite

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

nomad; techie. flower theme. cowboy. minimal chrome. sniper rifles, berserk, gorilla arms.

-enya-adjacent. the most well-adjust and happiest of the three (ignoring the depression). quiet! straightforward when she does talk, and doesnt talk very much. no silence is awkward (for her). actually finds some humor in how differently people react. comfy bi with a preference for women. smokes, but doesnt drink (anymore), and drugs only when necessary. blank stares. careful deliberation. sleeveless vests, leather chaps, cowboy boots.

-prefers val as she gets older, before just going by v when she starts doing merc work. follows the nomad lifepath pretty directly. born in the NUSA, traveling with the bakkers, etc. has that curiosity toward explosives as a child, up until she fucks around and finds out real quick. loses both arms and left eye, burns mostly on her face and upper chest/shoulder. that was the last time she messed with choo2 and gasoline. instead, shifts her energy toward tinkering with machines and cyberware. the latter she finds more enjoyable, but doesnt have many opportunities to experiment with except for her basic (hand-me-down) implants until she saves up herself for an upgrade.

-almost exclusively uses long-range rifles. highly skilled sharpshooter helped along immensely by her one cyber-eye. many problems can be solved this way, for any that cant, her gorilla arms are deceptively customized to deliver a lot more power than expected. not a boxer but enjoys fighting. doesnt get a lot of sleep, spends her nights doing body weight exercises, fiddling with her arms, reading, trying to meditate. professional to a T. whatever the scope is, she will follow it to the letter. not so much "has to be done right" more "thats what i was told to do"; however, she is prone to leniency. minimal deaths depending on the job and involved gangs. being newer to night city has her grouping gangs, corpos, cops, etc in the same bubble. except for shivs, they all get the bullet.

-"brief" history: mom shot by raffen shiv at 9. while tagging along her first patrol at 12, her dad is killed and she's captured alongside a few others when theyre ambushed by raffen (including another girl, sam). rescued after a week or so of rape and torture. her and sam end up becoming inseparable, bonding over their shared trauma. ends up being useful because she goes mute for a number of years with sam being the only person she talks to. becomes an angry violent teen, getting into a whole host of trouble over the years. between those moments, she helps with mechanic work, insisting she gets a fair trade of pay for her work, saving up for improved cyberware, specifically gorilla arms. violence and trouble get worse for a period after this before she gradually begins to soften (very much helped by her interactions with sarah). spends a lot of time alone, improving and modifying her arms and guns, endless target practice, generally honing her skills and abilities into something useful. works random repair and general modification until she starts legitimate merc work at 18.

-sarah connection: these two are THE sarah/enya pair. he is a traveling monk under a teacher who believes in reaching out to the forgotten of society. but not a bhikkhu (the in-game ones, who are ordained) but a ngakpa (under tibetan buddism). different colored robes and vows. theyll travel, spending a few days in an area before moving on. happy to explain their beliefs (which happens frequently enough), but their only real goal is to converse and learn about others. has a vague rotation so they come around every year or so.

-first runs into him at 16 (him 18, still going through training). distant curiosity a contrast to the rest of the teens. doesnt start bothering him until the next year, finding him when he goes to find a quiet spot to meditate to ask her own batch of questions. seeing as this is sarah dialed up to 11, he has a whole lot of suggestions for her, mostly meditative option. blows him off at face, but ends up following some ideas and finds they actually help.

-sarah is, well, sarah, so she finds him an incredibly comfortable and safe presence. helps her relax and open up more. especially so after they start secretly dating (he isnt that kind of monk, after all). plus, his frequent absences actually brings its own sense of contentment. they get married a couple years later when she's 21.

-since this enya/v follows the game, she does end up in night city, relic, johnny, etc. sarah manages to find her, as he does every year, and what with her whole dying thing, decides he's gonna put off his traveling until she figures it out or, well, dies. he's her rock!! okay!!

-for my own headcanon etc: endgame choice is to have the aldecaldos help out (because of course she'd join them), albeit with a whole host of hesitancy and regret after. the connection in arizona helps out because this bitch deserves a happy ending, dammit. relic and whatnot leaves her with a traumatic brain injury, and after all the shit in night city, both cant and wont do merc work anymore. rather, goes heavy into general mechanic/implant modifications which keeps her busy, well-paid, and content. sarah fully shifts into a householder lifestyle instead of traveling and they live happily ever after fuck u.

-some extra info:

=also low INT, cannot hack to save her life, but her people skills are more refined. more prone to not talking than blurting things out which usually works out for the better. =not a believer in buddism but supportive of her big hubby, and finds some of the practices useful for her own mental health. =has memory dampeners in place a few months after her abduction. part of the reason she doesnt touch alcohol is if she drinks too much, it fucks em up and she gets night terrors. relic eating away at her brain introduces the possibility of the dampeners failing at some random point, so she has those removed. misery and suffering for a brief period but gives her a way to deal with her trauma more directly. =her and sam consider each other what they call friend soulmates. they love and adore each other - which theyre fully aware came about because of the suffering they experienced together - but they wont ever be more than friends (albeit, very, very close ones). sam leaves the bakkers a couple years prior to them disbanding officially, but they both stay in contact.

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corpo; netrunner. monochrome theme. medium chrome. knives, overclock??, monowire.

-baby… baby boy (not really, he's a dick). i do NOT have a solid grasp on his character because the corpo lifepath bores me and i dont like netrunning but i needed someone to fill the role. that and i havent given male!enya (aidan) any real thought. drinks (excessively) but doesnt smoke. casual bi, big flirt, bigger narcissist and ego. pretty standard corpo jackass in the way he talks to people he deems lesser. blackout tattoos. toothy smirks. puppy dog eyes. folded hands. subtle designer clothes. long sleeves, dress pants, combat boots.

-aidan vincent (last name). goes by v/vin/vinny or vincent in general, aidan only with people he's close to. russian/japanese with split citizenship between night city/US and japan.

-NO idea what his "trauma at 12" enya hallmark is, but it does involve someone clawing out his eyes (hence, the scars and implants). was leaning toward one parent being in maxtac, maybe something with a cyberpsycho attack?? dunno yet.

-sarah connection: fem!sarah is seth! specifically sesu in this au as she's based in japan. making my own cyberpunk headcanon where arasoka also is very supportive of traditional entertainment and sports, including sumo. including female sumo because HELL yeh. proves herself and works her way to a higher level. him being involved with arasoka and travel etc. runs into her at a sort of after party. BIG old heart eyes immediately, this boy is a sucker for giant women. takes some work on his end but manages to convince her hes genuine and they have a strong but brief relationship.

-she's the one who ends it - in part, because she knows theyre both trying to focus on their careers, and his work in particular keeps him away more than either of them want. probably also the whole kill-or-be-killed attitude. not her thing.

-he's TOTALLY not bitter and disappointed and mad about this (< lying to himself constantly). overcompensates in his treatment toward others, flirting, and hookups.

-the random bits im making up as i type:

=NO clue on his future. dies sometime in thirties probably, something like he has a hit put out on him by a younger corpo and has gotten to the point of hardly caring so he gets caught off guard. unhappy but resigned. =high INT but people dumb. when he's got less of a stick up his ass, it's fairly obvious he's a himbo. extremely so when he likes the other person. =when he's not diving through the net and experimenting with backdoors and various ICEbreakers, he enjoys knife throwing. will happily play circus act when he gets drunk enough, but otherwise, the knives dont come out unless he aims to hurt someone. has a surprising number on him at all times from having an excessive amount of hidden sheaths stitched into his clothes.

-bonus fun fact about aidan: would unironically call himself a short king (he's 6 feet tall).

(if any of you actually managed to read through my brainrot, you deserve a prize holy shit i love u <3)

[henrysglock]

A mind-fuck that always gets me:

So...supposedly the Creels got a small fortune from Virginia's deceased Great Uncle. That's her grandfather's brother.

Virginia was born in 1923, so that would put her parents as having been born around 1895. That means her grandparents would have been born around 1867.

That money, that small fortune...Where did it come from, exactly? More importantly...how does it still exist?

Lets look at what was happening in the US between 1867 and 1959:

Reconstruction Era: Post Civil-War rebuilding.

The Guilded Age: Rise of Monopolies

The Progressive Era: Fall of Monopolies

World War I

The Post-War Recession

The Spanish Flu

The Roaring '20s Economic Boom

The Great Depression

The Recession of 1937

World War II

The Recession of 1949

So...how does the family still have a small fortune after all that?

If the money came from the southern pre-civil war economy, a good portion of it likely would have been lost during that time. (See: Antebellum south -> Reconstruction, as in Gone With The Wind)

If it came from participation in monopolies via the industrial era of the 1840's, it would have been finite as of the busting era and would not grow further. Thus, it would likely be eaten into by WWI, the recession that followed, and the Spanish flu.

If it survived that and boomed again in the 20's, it would have been walloped by the run on the banks when the stock market crashed in 1929, unless they were already part of the super-elite who managed to maintain their money by fighting the social reform put in place to assist the poor. Even so, the money would likely have been eaten into in a major way, unless they were already a dynastic family.

And then there's WWII and the recessions that bookend it.

So...how did they manage to hold onto all that money?

Who exactly is Virginia Creel? She's 100% old money...but old money only survived in a handful of families. So...who the fuck are Virginia's relatives?

And on top of this, her Great Uncle died in 1959? That would put him between 85-95 years old depending on exactly when he was born. The man survived all that? Reconstruction era, two World Wars, a pandemic? He lived to be that old?

It's not impossible by any stretch, especially if they are a dynastic family who could afford the best of the best re: doctors...

That's if she's even American at all, she very well could be Russian or German, especially since Brenner is a German name...

Either way: WHO THE FUCK ARE THEY? HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?

Unless, of course...there was never a Great Uncle at all.

Which is more plausible:

The money survived this long and ended up being given directly to Virginia by her 90-some year old Great Uncle. The Creels just happened to move into a house right up the street from HNL by chance. Virginia also just happened to find a Brenner, an expert, by chance.

or

The money came from the lab the same way the Byers' money did for Cali. Both families move into houses substantially nicer than their old ones, both looking for a fresh start away from the shadows of the past, both families end up once again placed close to lab facilities run by a Brenner for easy retrieval and access. Virginia and a Brenner having been in cahoots since before the Creels ever showed up in Hawkins...Virginia knowing Henry has abilities...Virginia know a) that she "needed" an expert, b) where to find one, and c) just happened to find Brenner...(read: either Brenner had his fingers in that and moved them all like chess pieces without them being fully aware, or Virginia knew him from before Hawkins)

Every day I sit here wracking my brains trying to figure out what the fuck is going on in the house of commons re: the Creels.

[elliepassmore]

The Bookbinder review

5/5 stars Recommended if you like: history, historical fiction, women's stories, WWI

The Dictionary of Lost Words review This is a great companion to Dictionary of Lost Words, though both could be read as a standalone without there being any issues. Tilda features fairly prominently in this book and we do see Gareth and a brief cameo of Esme. I liked getting to see familiar characters, even if Gareth + Esme's story drove home the tragedy in a different way. I especially liked seeing Women's Words and how much it impacted Peggy! This book picks up around the start of WWI and pretty much follow the course of the war, with a couple chapters taking place afterward and depicting the experience of recovery. The Belgian refugees play a big part of Peggy's story, as well as that of her twin sister, Maude. They forge different connections to the newcomers, but each finds their lives transformed by those relationships. The Spanish Flu also comes in and we get to see how it impacts things at the Bindery as well as Peggy and Maude's lives more personally. It was definitely interesting to see Peggy's struggles getting into Oxford. As a woman who did get into Oxford (graduate school, and Pembroke, not Somerville; also I declined admissions, lol), it was strange to read about all the hoops Peggy had to jump through just to be able to secure her spot. Not just one test, but two, with "Ancient bloody Greek" as one of the subjects, is quite a bit just to get in and study English lit. I really liked how Williams made this a commentary on barriers to entry and how Peggy was able to recognize that the entry exams were just another way to prevent non-aristocratic women from being able to reach for the kind of education offered at Oxford. Oxford's difficult admissions process also ties into the suffragette movement. I didn't know that when Britain passed the law to allow women to vote that it only included certain women and only at the age of 30. Tilda is more closely tied to Peggy and Maude due to her romantic relationship with their late mother and so Peggy has much closer view of the suffragette movement than Esme did. Peggy supports suffrage but also sees the injustice of the bill being pushed prior to/during WWI and how it connects to her own struggles to get into Oxford. Peggy also recognizes how unfair the bill is to the women around her in the Bindery and at home who also don't have a higher education and aren't looking to get into Oxford. Peggy is an interesting character to follow. She's worked at Clarendon Press as a bindery girl since she was ~12, though she dreams of being a Gown in Somerville, Oxford's women's college. She also feels a great responsibility for her twin sister, Maude, who is autistic and communicates through a kind of echolalia. When the war breaks out, Peggy feels she needs to do something and so volunteers to help with the Belgian refugees being housed in Oxford. She comes to enjoy her work and what she feels is freedom from watching over Maude. Peggy clearly has a big heart and big dreams, and she's acutely feels the barriers preventing her from reaching her goals. I liked that Williams made it clear that Peggy loved Maude, but that at times she wishes her twin could be more self-sufficient. At the same time, Peggy gets very jealous when someone new comes into Maude's life and begins caring for her in the way Peggy is used to. It's definitely a real thing that happens with sibling pairs where one sibling requires more accommodations and care, and even though I didn't always agree/like Peggy's thoughts about Maude, it did show a realistic way of coping and helped to show both Peggy's and Maude's growth over the course of the book. There were so many people supporting Peggy throughout her journey. Maude is a big supporter, even if Peggy doesn't always recognize it, and Mrs. Stoddard, the head supervisor of the women's section of the Bindery, is another person who greatly champions Peggy. Gwen, a Somerville student Peggy meets volunteering, may be ditzy and doesn't always see her own privilege, but she does introduce Peggy to important Somerillian people and she goes to bat for Peggy and pulls some strings to make it clear to some of the Somerville leaders that Peggy would be a good candidate for both admissions and a scholarship, both of which do open doors for her. I liked how much community was present in this book and how much the women supported each other. Maude may use echolalia to communicate, but she is very observant and good at reading people. She's particularly good at understanding the things people do vs. don't want to talk about and is a comforting influence to one of the Belgian women. Maude also seems to understand just how much Peggy needs her and for the most part is able to accept that role. She's very supportive of Peggy's dreams and I liked seeing them reverse roles when Peggy was studying for the Oxford entrance exams. Instead of Peggy making sure Maude got food and got outside, it was Maude making sure Peggy ate and didn't burn herself out. I enjoyed seeing Maude get the chance to grow into the person she was. Lotte is one of the Belgian refugees and quickly bonds with Maude. Shortly after her arrival she and a few other women begin working at the Bindery and Lotte is paired up with Peggy and Maude, though it's clear from the start she prefers Maude. Lotte's story is a sad one, and while she opens up to Maude pretty easily, it takes her much longer to open up to Peggy, and seemingly only through a 3rd party. She struggles with what happened in Belgium throughout the book and and there are some moments when her PTSD flares. Bastiaan is a Belgian soldier injured during the German invasion. He's one of the soldiers Peggy helps in her volunteer work and the two of them become friends, and then more, during that time. Bastiaan is another person who supports Peggy's dreams and he seems to understand Maude as well. I liked Bastiaan's mannerisms and how gentle he was. Like Lotte, Bastiaan is also dealing with ghosts and struggles with what happened before they were evacuated to England, particularly since he sees himself as someone who should've been able to protect Belgium and its people. I liked Bastiaan and Peggy together. They're able to open up to each other in a way they can't to others, and I liked seeing how they helped each other and how they grew together. Their relationship also shows the struggle and balance that women had to face between education and a career vs. romantic love and a family, particularly if the women were lower class and didn't have family money to fall back on. Peggy loves Bastiaan, but she also wants more out of life. Bastiaan also loves Peggy, but he knows his future isn't in Engand. Thus, they reach something of an impasse. Despite that, their relationship ends the story on a positive and hopeful note (I suspect it's long-distance, though Williams doesn't say explicitly) and I can definitely see them finding a good middle ground where Peggy can have her career and Bastiaan can have his. Tilda, as mentioned, also shows up in this one, though she's more present in letters than in person due to her being in the Voluntary Aid Detachment (VAD) and deployed to France. It's clear how much Tilda cares for Peggy and Maude, and as the book unfolds it becomes clear that Tilda and the girls' mom were romantically involved and that Tilda played a big role in the girls' lives. It was nice to see them together as a family, and I liked seeing how Tilda was with Peggy and Maude. I also think it was clever to include Tilda's letters at the end of some of the chapters so that we could get an inside view into what things were like in France. Williams does not pack her punches and Tilda's letters make the brutality and tragedy of the war even more clear than Peggy's own experiences volunteering do. Overall, I really enjoyed this book and getting to see things through Peggy's eyes. I think Esme's story packed a more emotional punch than Peggy's, but I still felt deeply for the people in this story and the circumstances that brought them together. The book ends on a happy note and the characters (mostly) seem satisfied with where they've ended up.

[thepolyamorouspolymath]

This is actually exactly one of the things I've been yelling about climate change, and very few people seem to focus on, in this very strange way....

You hear a fucking insane amount about rising ocean levels. Now objectively this is bad because it changes currents abd therefore weather and migratory patterns. But the "50% of the world's population lives near a coast and those will be flooded out" is just a fucking weird take. It rises by like an inch a year at most. That's a lot of warning. Have people lost the ability to migrate due to weather conditions, the thing we demonstrated regularly throughout the evolutionary process? It's a loss of property value. Where do we house them with less land instead? Ah well, you see there's this whole thing of building up instead of out? You might have seen it in any city that has geographic constraints on sprawl?

It's a problem but on a human level it is a solvable problem. (What effects it will have on ocean life is a different story -- evolution is weird, life finds a way, etc. The problems could range from completely dead oceans (even sharks, I know!) causing raging fucked up weather patterns all the way down to the balance of power just shifting in the ecosystem a bit and the weather having a bad teen years period until the new normal version of currents are established. And anywhere in between. (Personally I find the complete unpredictability terrifying -- you can plan for an expected disaster, one that surprises you fucks you up. Think hurricane with days of warning versus a tornado of equal duration and area bc those fuckers give you like 30 seconds.)

Then there's temperatures in parts of the world like the Middle East which will become Death Valley redux. Temps climb too high during the day and don't get to come down enough at night, you have an unlivable condition. Again, no denying that's bad. There are some ideas to cope -- people want to colonize Mars right? That same tech to survive on Mars could be used to live entirely indoors on Earth with climate control in areas that are not habitable. Or again, humanity has moved a lot due to environments getting shitty.

Arable land for food. Now that is an issue, especially if we lose ocean meat sources (vegetarians and vegans I'm aware mankind can live without meat but since eating meat is what allowed our brains to develop higher functions, let's not just brush it off) because grazing land is required. But we could definitely reduce meat consumption and while some of our arable areas are drying up there's likely other areas that are going to become far more productive. (Look at the changes in arable land in Mesopotamia area including Egypt, which was the bread basket of the ancient world, long before climate change.) And for plants, well might I again recommend looking up? There's a fascinating design for hydroponic towers in the Great Lakes the size of skyscrapers. For plant life in general, we've all see the concepts of covering buildings in plants like mosses and ivy and shit, right?

The big problem here is SPEED. It's happening too fast for evolution to keep up. But so is technology.

I don't deny any of these are critical problems that we should do everything to slow, stop, and prepare for -- all three at the same time because shit is unpredictable, so let's cover bases.

But my climate bogeyman is the permafrost. First because as it melts its going to skyrocket CO2 levels, and because there's lakes of real explosive methane trapped in there that no one wants, but the BODIES.

Tens of thousands of years of bodies that have not decomposed with viruses and bacteria humans never met or our immune systems have long forgotten, easily capable of living in permafrost for ever -- shit lives on fucking comets in colder and also the vacuum.

Covid was so bad, so horrifying? Imagine a new one every year, every 6 months as it escapes a half inch less of permafrost where a sample was hanging out. Spanish Flu was twice as fatal as Covid. Bubonic Plague knocks them both out of the water with a 16% mortality rate WITH ANTIBIOTICS AND TREATMENT. Smallpox, that fucking champ, came in at a full 30%.

Those are just a few examples that we know of, and I choose for their ability to turn into a pandemic, as opposed to something like Ebola which is at 50-90% but kills in such a way its not the most effective at reaching global contamination.

And one of those would be bad. Any of them you're looking at probably a billion deaths. But hey weve gotten faster at developing treatments and vaccines at least right? Sure.

Except if they're coming, a totally different disease every 3 years, we won't be.

I know every climate change opponent has their own thing that they think is most critical for ensuring humanity survives, but to me, it's the giant petri dish of the Great White North.

girls go to college to get more knowledge. men go to svalbard to die in the polar night.

[creativenonfiction7]

So, like, over the past couple of years, this feeling has totally spread all over social media and turned into this meme, you know? It's like this constant reminder of how drained and emotionally spent we've been with everything going on. I mean, think about it: from the pandemic just going crazy to all the political drama, economic mess, and even the threat of war, the 2020s have been non-stop chaos.

And when you stop and think about how people felt back in the 1920s, it's kinda wild. They had just come out of World War I, dealing with the Spanish flu, trying to figure out what's going on with their money, and facing all sorts of social issues. It's like, no matter the era, people deal with the same feelings of exhaustion during tough times.

You know, it's crazy how history kinda repeats itself. Whether it's the 1920s or the 2020s, everyone's asking the same question: when is this gonna be over?

I can't help but wonder how folks in the future will look back at our struggles. Will they get where we're coming from, all the stuff we had to deal with? Or will they just analyze it all like some history lesson, picking apart what went wrong and what went right?

But hey, maybe future generations will find hope in our stories of resilience, just like we do with the ones before us. It's like this cycle of drawing strength from each other, you know? We're all in this together, across time and space, dealing with the craziness of living through major historical moments. And who knows, maybe that connection is what'll get us through in the end.

[judgestarling]

How to Ignore More than a Century Worth of Scientific Literature and Make Headline-Grabbing Claims on One of the Deadliest and Exhaustively Studied Pandemics in History Based on Flawed Data and Questionable Analysis

The 1918 influenza pandemic, also erroneously referred to as the “Spanish flu,” has affected up to one billion people—half the world’s population at the time—and has killed an estimated 20–30 million people in the Western World and God-only-knows-how-many people in other countries. Previous and subsequent influenza pandemics usually hit infants and the elderly the hardest. The 1918 influenza pandemic was a weird one because of the atypically high mortality among young adults. The peak mortality rate during the fall wave of the 1918 influenza pandemic in Canada and the USA was 28 years. The death of young adults lowered the average life expectancy in the United States by more than 10 years. Numerous studies have confirmed these findings.

A typical picture illustrating the haunting age peculiarity of this pandemic is shown below.

Even in poor, medically underserved communities, it was the young healthy adults that perished leaving many very young orphans behind.

In the early 2000s scientists started looking for samples of the 1918 virus. They reasoned that their best chance was to find it inside an influenza victim buried in permafrost. Brevig Mission in Alaska had 89 inhabitants in 1918 of which 87 died of influenza. It was a good bet that some sequenceable genetic material could be recovered from the graves of these flu victims. Indeed, genomic RNA of the 1918 virus was recovered from frozen lung tissues of an Alaskan influenza victim who was buried in permafrost in November of 1918.

In 2005, scientists used reverse genetics to generate an influenza virus bearing all eight genome segments of the 1918 virus to study its properties. The deadly 1918 virus has thus been resurrected!

The reconstructed virus turned out to be as deadly as the original one with a 100% mortality in mice. Another conclusion of this “resurrection” study was that the virus kills by overreaction of the body’s immune system, which explained the weird age distribution of deaths due to the "Spanish Flu." The strong adaptive immune systems of young adults ravaged their body, whereas the underdeveloped immune systems of young children and the weakened immune system of old people resulted fewer deaths. It was inflammation that killed people, not the viral infection directly or secondary infections. These studies seemed like the end of the 1918 influenza story.

Imagine my surprise, then, when at the end of 2023, I started noticing that the 1918 influenza pandemic is in the news again. “Killer 1918 flu didn't pick on the healthy, after all,” declared Science (the same Science that “killed” Junk DNA a decade earlier). “History Says the 1918 Flu Killed the Young and Healthy. These Bones Say Otherwise,” quipped WIRED. And US News and World Reports headlined the findings as “Contrary to Popular Belief, 1918 Flu Did Not Target the Healthy Young.”

The origin of these headlines was a 2023 paper in Proceedings of the National Academy of Science entitled “Frailty and Survival in the 1918 Influenza Pandemic” by Amanda Wissler, currently an Assistant Professor of Anthropology at McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario and Sharon DeWitte, Professor of Anthropology at University of Colorado in Boulder. The paper was largely based largely on Wissler’s PhD dissertation at Arizona State University under the supervision of Professor Jane Buikstra.

One would have thought that a study that purports to discard more than a hundred years of observations, refute dozens of analyses, refute the conclusions in about 18,000 peer-reviewed articles, and generate headlines in serious news media would require a great amount of unimpeachable data and an analysis that is—if not infallible—close to infallible. If you thought that, you will be sorely disappointed.

Let us start with the Materials and Methods section. The study is based on a bone sample from the Hamann-Todd Osteological Collection which contains skeletons of people who died in Cleveland, Ohio between 1910 and 1939. The skeletons belong to people whose bodies were not claimed within 36 hours of death (i.e., the poor, the homeless, the socially isolated, the incarcerated, the institutionalized as “mentally defectives,” and those whose relatives couldn’t possibly collect their loved ones’ bodies within a day and a half. Black and indigenous people most probably made the bulk of this collection. Wissler and DeWitte euphemistically called their sample as consisting of “individuals of low socioeconomic status,” who mostly “died in almshouses or public hospitals.” Is this sample representative of the population in Cleveland between 1910 and 1939? I very much doubt it. And don’t even start me on the ethical crimes committed to assemble this collection. Of course, the bodies in this collection were legally obtained following an Ohio legislation that permitted people whose bodies were not claimed within 36 hours of death to be “donated” for scientific study, but was the collection ethically assembled? I think not! The ethics of this collection reminds me of a joke my dad used to tell. “A religious Jewish woman goes to the Rabbi in a panic. ‘Rabbi, the chicken I cooked for Shabbat dinner fell into a soiled baby's diaper. Is it still kosher?’ she asks. The Rabbi replies, ‘It's kosher, of course, but I would I eat it?’” But, I digress.

Wissler and DeWitte’s sample consisted of 369 individuals: 310 males (84%) and 59 females (16%). This fact immediately tells the reader that something is off; the sample is not representative of the general population.

Curiously, the Materials and Methods section also contains the following statement, “to maximize the sample size, both the 1918 flu and the control groups include individuals who died from influenza and pneumonia as well as other diseases such as tuberculosis and myocarditis.” (No data is provided as to how many individuals were included for the purpose of padding the sample size.) Finally, medical history for the individuals in the study is mostly not known. Thus, it is impossible to know whether “an individual suffered another disease during life unless it was listed as the cause of death or left diagnostic evidence on their skeleton.”

Finally, we have the problem of missing data. In the previous paragraph, we have seen one method of padding the data. Here comes another one. The last sentence of the Analytical Methods section states that missing skeletal data “were imputed using the ‘pmm’ function of the mice R package following previous recommendations.” Now, I need to tell the reader that I get hives and homicidal thoughts whenever I read the terms “imputed” or “imputation,” which nowadays essentially mean conjuring data out of thin air. Interestingly, “imputed” was originally a theological term meaning to falsely ascribe guilt to a person. The way data analysts use the word “imputed” started with economists in 1893 when a step in a multistep process was assigned a value by inference from the value of the process to which it contributes. More recently, the term “impute” was used by the Internal Revenue Service to assign interest to an investment when the interest rate is not known. The fact that imputation is used in scientific research to artificially increase the sample size is an inexcusable obscenity.

In the abstract of the article, it is stated that “frail or unhealthy individuals were more likely to die during the pandemic than those who were not frail.” Now, “frailty” is a nebulous and inexact term often defined as “an aging-related syndrome of physiological decline, characterized by marked vulnerability to adverse health outcomes.” https://www.uptodate.com/contents/frailty Thus, the authors used a skeletal proxy to identify frailty. The proxy was lesions on the shinbones (periostosis). Whether this proxy has anything to do with anything is unknown.

The choice of lesions on the shinbones reminds me on of the Streetlight effect or the Drunkard's search principle—both examples of an observational bias whereby one limits the variables used in a study to those that are easy to obtain regardless of whether the choice is actually relevant to the study question.

Let us now discuss the article’s statistical analyses, results, and conclusions. A good piece of advice that I once got from one of my mentors was “Before you subject your data to complicated analyses and reach extravagant conclusions, do yourself a favor and look at the data carefully and perform some simple analyses.” In this case, subjecting the data to complicated (and frankly confusing) Kaplan–Meier survival analysis, Cox proportional hazards analysis, and Schoenfeld test, one should look at the data and do some long division or at most some simple 2×2 contingency analyses.

The following data was extracted from Table 1 of Wissler and DeWitte (2023).

The first thing I noticed was that 67% of the skeletons in the sample belonged to "frail" people. Does this look like a representative sample of the population of Cleveland, Ohio in 1918? The second thing I noticed is that 69% of the control group have had lesions on their shinbones (either active or healed) versus 59% in the group that succumbed to flu. Thus, by the definition used by Wissler and DeWitte, the group of people that succumbed to influenza were 14–17% less “frail” than the group that survived. Of course, in my simple analysis I can use the skeletons exhibiting active or mixed lesions versus the rest of the skeletons (healed and no lesions). In this case, 25% of the control group turn out to be frail, versus 20% in those that succumbed to flu. This result seemed to support the thesis of Wissler and DeWitte, until you realize that the difference is not statistically significant (Fisher's exact test, P = 0.3074).

After reading this paper very carefully, I am left with one open question. It remains unclear to me how this paper managed to get published in PNAS and become a news sensation. Is this another example of the power of the press release?

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

(CW: mentions of WW2 and atomic bomb) Okay that ask about how TWST boys would react to Yuu's terrible world is something I think about too often, especially bc of the US with all the terrible history-making things happening all at once. Like imagine Yuu wearing a mask when they first arrive and eventually Adeuce ask why they wear one all the time? Then Yuu explains about the global pandemic that's killed millions of ppl around the world and how it's almost like the modern day Black Death with how long the pandemic is lasting and their like "WTF IS THE BLACK DEATH" so Yuu explains that too along with plague doctors and medieval understanding of illnesses. But they say all this with a chill "oh this is kinda par for the course for human beings" tone. Meanwhile everyone is horrified.

Some students including Lilia remark that it kinda sounds cool to live through a huge historical moment in time (Lilia would know) and Yuu's just like, "have you ever wanted to live through the Spanish Flu of 1918, the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960's, and the Great Economic Depression of the 1930's, ALL at the same time? I didn't, yet here it am" and everyone's like 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️ they might not know what happened during those times, but they can take a guess. That's when Lilia realizes how truly f*cked up Yuu's world is when a young teen like them is left so jaded, like not even he in the centuries he's lived through has he ever felt this hopeless about the state of Twisted Wonderland that he has to wonder what in hell is happening in Yuu's home world?

Then they talk about WW2 and the monstrosities that took place. The boys might make fun of Yuu for living in a world without magic, but just replies "oh, well we don't really need magic to fight. We have technology. We have weapons that can instantly vaporize people and entire cities in an instant. And if they don't die from being in the vicinity the bomb, the ppl in the miles surrounding that will die slowly from radiation." "YUU, WTF THAT SOUNDS AWFUL!" "I know. I've seen the pictures."

also when they see how nonchalant Yuu is about all this and wonder how Yuu can be so...calm, so matter-of-fact about it, Yuu's just like "oh no, all young folks are this. We know there's nothing can do to change the trajectory of Earth's demise, so we just kinda accept and meme about it. Hey check out this meme about WW3 :D" and they are just like "WTF—and you WANT to go back to this world!?" And that's not even talking about pollution, late stage capitalism, or the fight for human rights around the world.

Bonus: (can you tell I think about this a lot?) I like to think that Yuu explains to Azul the amount of damage mega corporations do to nature and how they pretty much use the ocean as a dumping ground for all their waste and left over products to the point where ocean life is dying by the masses, he almost starts to consider if his capitalistic tendencies will lead him down that path.

I always imagined Yuu coming from a more apocalyptic version of this world where it's all gone to shit.

Imagine telling them about the elephants foot and the horrors of radiation.

This may be because I just got done playing The Chernobyl Liquidators and fall out New Vegas but still..

I feel like Azul would be mortified if you showed him how the ocean looks now. So many Coral reefs gone

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Would 'stuck thousands of years ago bride of Aro' Bella try to find human Edward when the Spanish flu hit, to make sure he's turned? You mentioned that in this new timeline, Carlisle meets VolturiBella and decides not to turn Edward because she's weird about it, so I'm wondering if we get a reverse Twilight where Bella stalks Edward? If so, does she ultimately turn him, and what does he think of her? If not, what does Bella do upon realizing Edward isn't a vampire and presumably died of the flu?

Anon's referring to this series of posts. Of note, Bella and Aro end up married after they're both tired of third wheeling.

Would Bella Try to Find Human Edward?

I imagine she might think about it but would probably be convinced out of it by the others, especially Marcus. It's been thousands of years, Bella no longer looks or acts like she did, and she'd be meeting an Edward she never knew. Meeting him would mean facing the fact that there's nothing between them, it'd be an Edward who is a stranger to her.

And given that she ended up boring Edward and being no good for him (remember she time travelled in New Moon during the breakup) then meeting him would do nothing good for him. It'd just be her own selfishness driving her to do so. Edward's better off without her.

(Especially as Carlisle's reaction to her makes it all too clear that she's a loser who will only ever do bad things to Edward even miles away and before he's born.)

Would Bella Stalk Edward?

No.

See the above.

I just never see it happening.

She might try to find him to glimpse him from afar while he's still human. But, again, I think she'd be talked out of it because that could potentially go sideways and is only for her own benefit. More, it'd be an Edward she doesn't know and would barely recognize, she never met him human.

For similar reasons, she wouldn't turn him because she knows vampirism made him miserable and it'd only be for her own benefit and Edward never liked her in the first place.

Bella, instead, continues to sob for a millennia.

What Does Bella Do Upon Realizing Edward Must Be Dead?

Cry.

Cry forever.

She continues to be the same miserable lump that she's been for thousands of years.

Aro is at his wits end with this girl, he swears. He tries to get Marcus to help him out hooking her up with someone else. Because this just can't go on.

[pinkblosmx]

Miranda being in denial that her S/O is a Deity of death headcanons

A/N: Mother Miranda is the absolute queen of denial, her feelings, that you’re a deity. These aren’t the best headcanons I’ve ever done and I’m sorry it took so long to the anon who requested this one🥺

You watched on, humans always were so fun to watch. All their suffering and then death. You are death to some of them

You had taken some during the Spanish flu, oh what fun that was. So many bodies piled up

That’s actually when you saw Miranda, you watched as she went into a cave, you had the feeling in your bones that death would be upon her soon but life is annoying and got in the way

You scoffed, it didn’t matter there was always someone dying somewhere. So you let Miranda live and moved on

Many years passed and although you didn’t like to admit it, you keep checking up on Miranda. You watched as she became different from what she used to be.

You admired her manipulation tactics and now sadistic nature, in a way you were the same but damn this woman has lived long enough, she’s got to be over 100 now. Why doesn’t she just die?

No longer caring about life and their stupid rules you took it upon yourself to try and end her

It was only fair right? She was suppose to die in that cave but life just had to get in the way, you’re only doing what should of happened in the first place!

So you tried a few things: trees falling, a pack of wolves, even tried getting some dead souls to scare her to death. None of that worked.

You don’t usually like to show yourself to living people but the only way Miranda may die is being stabbed and beheading her. Such a shame really, her face is so pretty. Wait what no she is not pretty

You scold yourself before you make a plan. It can’t fail

You knock on Miranda’s door, pretending to be a poor merchant who is lost and cold. Miranda sees you and let’s you in, after all to her you seem like a new experiment waiting to happen. It’s really possible for anything to happen in these mountains, people get lost all the time

Miranda treats you very nicely, you know it’s all an act but you admire it, she’s really made it perfect over the years. Oh how you remember how she first manipulated Donna. Now that was true art that you played in your head like a song on repeat

Miranda soon excused herself and went downstairs, you smirked knowing now it was time. Time for her death. You quietly followed her in the shadows, she never suspected anything as she looked at her recent Cadou and

And you could rip her apart where she stands, could behead her, so why aren’t you? You go to strike her quietly but what is this? Why can’t you kill her? Is life protecting her? Ugh definitely not, life does not do that

This feeling could it? No. Fuck! You go through a whole wave of emotions, as you can’t believe you’ve actually fallen for her! You suppose this is a cruel joke that life decided to play on you, suppose it was planned from the very beginning, you remind yourself later to kill something precious to life in a way to get back

You go back upstairs and wait for Miranda, you’re so pissed off at yourself. You could scream but Miranda comes back upstairs

She smiles at you so sweetly, you think you could get sick if she keeps using that smile

Before her you reveal yourself

You try to explain to her who you are but she talks, saying she had a feeling you weren’t human. She believes you to be a witch

It isn’t the worst thing you’ve been called, I mean that compared to other things that’s a compliment!

But you explain to her who you really are but she isn’t having any of it and tells you are more than welcomed to stay if you help her

You accept. From then on you helped Miranda, it was actually quite fun, so much pain, suffering. Death

You also had a steady relationship with Miranda, I guess you could say friends with benefits was how it started and over the months your feelings grew and Miranda’s did too

Although Miranda found it difficult to accept that you’re the deity of Death, she looks at you like you just said an unfunny joke

It’s amusing to you cause she can make herself a goddess but you being a deity? Impossible

Now months on it’s an inside joke between you two

“Miranda I’m death.” She rolls her eyes “Sure you are.” She says in a sarcastic tone and you smile

[queenshelby]

Foreigner – Peaky Blinder Fanfic

PART ONE – WAY BACK HOME

Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Angst (don’t worry, Smut is coming in the next part for you dirty minded people)

Words: 3462

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Your Story

It has been 8 years since you left Birmingham and embarked on a journey to the US with your parents. Your brother was killed by Arthur Shelby, after having stolen from the Lee Family and getting involved in your father’s business.

It wasn’t your brother’s fault that he resorted to stealing. In fact, it was all he had ever known since he has been a young boy. He was stealing to feed you and your mother while your father was preoccupied interfering with Thomas Shelby’s gambling business.

Over 8 years ago, your father was employed by the Shelby Family to fix races but, at the same time, he was trying to skim money from their forged winnings and it wasn’t long after your brother’s and father’s actions had come to the attention of Thomas Shelby that a war emerged between your family and the Shelby gang.

The war was bitter and a threat made by Thomas Shelby against your father’s life caused your family to flee to a safe haven offered by your aunt Esme Bortelli in Atlanta.  Just like you and your parents, your aunt was gypsy. But, she made a deal with the devil after her first husband had passed away from Spanish flu.

Her second husband was no other than Luigi Bortelli. Luigi had a direct affiliation with the North Italian Mafia in Atlanta. He enjoyed the dangers in life. Handling and dealing with cocaine, heroin and alcohol, which, at the time, was prohibited in the US.

Luigi was shot a few years ago by police along with his brother Pepe while collecting a shipment of cocaine from the port of Atlanta. Following Luigi’s death, your aunt Esme took over the family business and dealings with the North Italian Mafia. Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t taken serious by some of her suppliers. It wasn’t common for a woman to be in this kind of business. Your father became her assistant, taking shipments and dealing with suppliers on her behalf. Nonetheless, it was her all along who pulled the strings.

The business ran smoothly for several years until, one day, a dispute occurred between the Sabini family and yours. As a result, your mother was shot in your family home by Sabini’s men. Giovanni Sabini resided in the UK and was Darby Sabini’s brother. He had family in the US which operated a rival gang importing the same products as your aunt Esme. After your aunt Esme ignored several of Giovanni’s demands to cease dealings in the area and accept shipments from the UK arranged by the Changratta family, he sent his men to send a message and kill Esme’s sister (your mother).

Esme and your father soon declared war on Giovanni Sabini but, your family’s local men turned against Esme as word came to them that Sabini had turned on the Changratta Family and, as a result, Luca Changratta was killed in Birmingham and the Peaky Blinders took over the supply of alcohol and cocaine to Atlanta exclusively to Giovanni Sabini’s men. This caused the Sabini family to gain greater power within the Atlanta area, much to the disadvantage of your aunt and the North Italian Mafia.

Your aunt Esme saw only one option to rectify this issue and replenish her standing within the North Italian Mafia. She sent your father back to Birmingham to make Thomas Shelby an offer he could not refuse, namely an alliance between the Peaky Blinders and the North Italian Mafia, guaranteeing exclusive supply to the entire West Coast.

Since you had become interested in the family business over the past few years and your aunt had taught you a lot about her supply and trading operations, you demanded that you join your father during his trip to Birmingham. Whilst your father had grown fearless and calculating, you were smart and practical which is just what your aunt Esme needed in order to represent her business.

Unfortunately, whilst your aunt was suspicious of your father’s recent behaviour, what she didn’t know was that he had a very different plan of his own. He wanted revenge on both, Arthur Shelby and Giovanni Sabini, even if it would cost him his own life. For this reason, your father was against you joining him on this journey. You were his only living child.

But, aunt Esme demanded that you join him and so you went.

‘Watch him and his men and report back to me’ were your aunt’s words as you left the port of Atlanta.

Back in Birmingham

After a three day boat journey, you and your father arrived in Birmingham along with several of his men.

Three of your men were questioned by border security upon their arrival. Fortunately for them, aunt Esme’s men in Birmingham had already made pay offs and you were escorted to your hotel.

Birmingham has changed a lot since you have been there last. Most factories, bars and residences were owned by Shelby Company Limited and even the hotel you were staying at was owned by Thomas Shelby.

You never met anyone from the Shelby family. Your father and older brother both worked for the Shelbys for many years until conflict emerged between them. Nonetheless, during this time, your father shielded you and your mother from these dealings. He always said there is no place for women in this business. It therefore comes as a surprise that your father works for aunt Esme now.

You know that your aunt does not trust your father. She always tells you that your father is a danger to himself and you have begun to believe it. His anger and hate has taken over in the last few months and that is why aunt Esme has sent you.

As you finally arrived at the hotel, it became clear to you that Shelby family already had tabs on you. A note from Thomas Shelby was left at reception for your father. It was an invitation to a charity event.

‘Smart’ is what you thought when you read it. Thomas Shelby obviously doesn’t know whether or not he can trust your father. What better place to discuss their business could there be than a public event where your father and his men cannot strike against him. After all, most men in Birmingham work for the Shelby family in one way or another.

Your father, however, was not impressed with the invitation and liaised with two of his men. A message was to be delivered to Thomas Shelby at the Garrison. You only ever heard of the Garrison in conjunction with your brother’s death. This is where he was killed just over 8 years ago by members of the Lee family. But, despite this, you recalled your promise to aunt Esme, to keep an eye on your father and his men.

Shortly after the two men had left to the Garrison, you sneaked out of the hotel.

The Garrison

‘Excuse me sir, how do I get to the Garrison?’ you asked the delivery driver who was delivering Gin to the hotel you were staying at.

‘The Garrison? This is really no good place for you Love’ the delivery driver said.

‘I have business to attend to at the Garrison. I am new in town and am looking to promote a new type of champaign to all of the establishments in the area’ you explained.

‘I don’t think you are going to have much luck at the Garrison Love, but I can take you there after I finish unpacking these. It’s my next delivery stop’ the man said.

‘Thank you sir, I much appreciate it’ you said as you climbed into the man’s truck.

The drive was less than 10 minutes and after you gave the man a couple of pounds for his troubles, you climbed out of the truck and went inside the Garrison while keeping a careful lookout.

The Garrison was full of drunk men, some steel factory workers and some men nicely dressed in suits.

Unfortunately for you, you could not see the men your father had sent. You carefully removed your hat and ordered a glass of whiskey.

‘Top shelf please sir’ you said as you sat down at the quite end of the bar. To your surprise, the bar tender didn’t question you or your choice of drink. It wasn’t common for women to drink in establishments like this. In fact, it was prohibited.

You decided to stay for maybe ten or fifteen minutes to see whether your father’s men would turn up. You took a careful look around every two minutes or so but the men couldn’t be found.

There was, however, one man who caught your eye. He was incredibly well dressed for a place like this and accompanied by a beautiful blonde woman. It was obvious to you that the woman wasn’t his wife. In fact, she looked just as much out of place as you did.

His eyes were blue like the sky on a sunny day in Atlanta and his hands were perfect, clean and masculine as if they had been crafted by an artist.

You couldn’t stop starring at him. His charisma was almost overwhelming.

It wasn’t long until he noticed you too. His eyes gazed over to you several times, much to the dislike of his female companion.

His looks were intimidating and you didn’t know whether he noticed you starring at him or whether he had taken an interest in you. Probably the earlier, considering that he was obviously much older than you.

After 15 minutes had passed and you felt surprisingly awkward in this man’s presence, you quickly finished your drink and decided to call it a night. You did not think that your father’s men were going to appear any time soon and it was getting quite late.

As you left, you noticed two drunk men following you.

“Ey Love, how much for the both of us?” one of the men said as he followed you.

‘In your dreams’ you said with laughter as you turned around for a brief second as, all of a sudden, the man grabbed your wrist.

‘Feisty… I like feisty girls’ the man said as he pulled you closer towards him while his acquaintance approached you and ran his hand over your blouse.

‘Fuck off and leave me alone’ you responded angrily and with some ignorance towards their actions.

‘Oh, you like it rough love?’ one of the men shouted in return while the other pushed you against the wall.

You tried to reach for your gun which was pinned to your left upper leg as, suddenly, you heard a gunshot from near the entrance to the Garrison.

It was a dark and foggy night and you couldn’t see much more than a shadow of a man approaching you and the attackers.

‘The lady said that she wants to be left alone’ another man said from the distance while pointing a gun at the attackers.

‘Piss off man’ one of the attackers yelled in a rather drunken tone, ignoring the first gunshot that had already been fired by the mysterious man.

Suddenly, you heard a second gun shot and a loud scream from one of the drunk men right beside you. He had been shot into his left knee and was in agony.

‘The next time I will aim higher’ the gunman said as he approached you closely, just before the uninjured drunk man scrambled and ran off, knocking you down onto the gravel in the process, while the other man began pleading for his life.

‘I am… I am very sorry please. I won’t…It will not happen again’ the man said. The tone of his voice was frightened and you could tell that the men knew each other.

‘I will not see you and your friend at the Garrison again, you understand?’ the gunman said angrily before allowing the injured attacker to leave.

You were lost for words. This mysterious man may have just saved your life.

Getting to know the Stranger

‘Are you alright, Miss?’ the man asked as he put away his gun and reached for your hand to help you up.

‘Thank you, I am fine’ you said quietly.

As you looked up towards the mysterious man you noticed that he was the man you had seen before, at the bar, with the beautiful blonde lady by his side.

With thoughts racing through your head, you almost didn’t notice that your legs were shaking and you had an awful pain in your left knee.

‘You are bleeding’ the man said, but you barely noticed the red staining on your white skirt. It was like you were hypnotised by this stranger.

‘Common, lets get this sorted out for you, ey?’ the man said with a caring voice and, without further words, you followed his lead back to the Garrison.

The Garrison was still as busy as when you had left and no one really noticed you walking in.

‘Bring us some bandages and whiskey. Top shelf, two glasses’ the man said before guiding you to a private room next to the bar.

‘Thank you for your help but I am fine, really’ you said to him as he pulled out a chair from beside the table in the middle of the room.

‘If you do not get this cleaned out, it will get infected. Now sit down love’ the man instructed as the barmaid brought bandages and a bottle of top shelf Irish whisky with two glasses.

The man poured you a glass of whiskey and handed it to you. Without words, you took a hasty sip knowing that, what was about to follow, would hurt. Your mother used to clean out your wounds with whisky on numerous occasions after you had fallen off your bicycle, just not as expensive as the bottle that was standing on the table right in front of you at this moment.

Without warning, the man kneeled down in front of you and lifted up your skirt just above your knees. He poured a good amount of whisky onto your wound, which caused you to clinch your teeth and some tears escape from your eyes. He then used his handkerchief to carefully pull some pieces of gravel and broken glass from your knee before wiping the wound again with some more whiskey.

‘So, tell me, what brings a girl like you to a place like this? You are clearly not from here’ the man asked as he wrapped your knee up with a bandage.

‘Business’ you clinched as you grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the table and poured yourself another glass while the man finished bandaging you up.

‘Business?’ the man asked surprised as he sat down opposite from you while lightening himself a cigarette. ‘What kind of business?’ he added.

‘Export of products to the US’ you said carefully. You didn’t know who this man was so you didn’t want to reveal anything that could be of detriment to you or aunt Esme.

‘Now that is interesting’ the man said with a grin before taking a short pause. ‘Let me guess, you want to export alcohol to your country because of the prohibition’ he added.  

‘What makes you think that?’ you asked carefully with a little pretend chuckle. It was not your place to discuss matters like this and you were surprised that he caught onto you almost immediately. Could he read you, you wondered, and regretted saying anything at all.

By this time, you were quite intimidated by this man and were contemplating to leave. On the other hand, you didn’t want to be rude. After all, he had just saved you from an attack.

‘What else could you possibly export from Birmingham to America? You manufacture machinery, vehicles and weapons yourself. This means you have no need for them. You are after something you cannot get where you are’ the man said as he leaned back into his chair.

‘Let’s not talk about business’ you said nervously. You felt as though you had been cornered.

‘Alright…let’s talk about something else’ the man said before pausing again. ‘Maybe let’s start with your name. What is your name?’ he added.

‘Y/N’ you said.

‘It is nice to meet you Y/N…’ and, before the man could introduce himself, another, older man stormed into the room.

‘They fucking got him, we need to move now’ the man yelled.

‘I am sorry Y/N, I have one of my drivers take you to wherever you are staying’ the man said before storming out of the room and grabbing two guns from behind the bar. With him were several men and all you heard was yelling and cars driving off within moments after.

Family Confrontation

A young man came into the room and introduced himself as ‘Finn’.

‘Apparently, I am your driver’ Finn said rather annoyed. ‘Where are you staying?’ he asked.

‘Renaissance Hotel’ you answered.

‘Alright, then let’s go’ Finn said in a haste.

This was an abrupt ending to an eventful night and the drive back to the hotel was rather quiet. Finn didn’t speak a word with you, not a single one.

As you approached the Hotel, Finn wished you a pleasant night before racing off. Your guess was that he was going to join the others for some kind of fight.

It appeared to you that life in Birmingham wasn’t so much different to life you knew in Atlanta. Violence, gangs and conflicts. It all was the same.

‘Y/N, what the fuck did I tell you?’ your father shouted at you as you entered the penthouse suite.

‘Father, I am not a child anymore. I can look after myself’ you said.

‘What is this, on your knee? Your skirt is full of blood’ your father asked worryingly.

‘I fell. It turns out that heels do not go well with all the horse shit on the streets here. A nice man at the Garrison helped me to get bandaged up. It is not a big deal’ you explained, not wanting to admit that you had gotten in to trouble.

‘The Garrison? What the fuck did you do at the Garrison? This place is dangerous, you hear me Y/N?’ your father said angrily.

‘I am keeping an eye on your men, something which you have obviously failed to do as they weren’t there’ you answered, causing your father to raise his hand at you.

‘Careful Y/N. This business is not for you and I wish that your aunt would learn to understand this. Get yourself cleaned up’ your father said before walking away.

And, so you did. You ran yourself a nice warm bath, knowing exactly that it will hurt, but this was exactly what you needed. Sometimes pain makes you feel alive and there has been a lot of pain in your life in the past eight years.

Your mother never got over the grief of losing her son while your father never gotten over his hate for the Shelby and Lee family. Your aunt Esme was the one who took you in, who ensured you were educated and who had confidence in you.

Being in business with her was something you wanted. You both felt that change was needed and the success that came with the business was something that gave you satisfaction. You were running her accounts for the past two years and you knew how lucrative this business was. But did your father care about it? This was always something you were wondering about.

‘Perhaps these questions and thoughts were for another night’ you said to yourself as you poured yourself a glass of whiskey and climbed into the warm bath.

It stung terribly but soon the pain went away and all you could feel was the warmth over your body.

Your mind soon drifted off into more pleasurable thoughts about the man you had met tonight.

You only ever had been with one man before and it didn’t take long for him to bore you. That being said, he was barely a man at all. He was the same age as you and studying to become lawyer. There was no adventure and no intensity. But, this man you met tonight, who was a fair bit older than you, he appeared to be far from being boring. There was some kind of intensity in his eyes, it was almost hypnotising. His voice was calming but yet intimidating and the thoughts that appeared about him in your mind were unfamiliar to you. They were intense. They were pure pleasure.

You kept wondering who this mysterious man was and whether you would see him again.

[undeadunalive]

Just me thinking about Jonathan as usual....

My heart hurts at the mere thought of what the Great War did to Jonathan. Yes, he wanted to help people, to be of service, but he also knew that it would give him the opportunity to further test his blood transfusion techniques, he couldn’t have realised the sheer cost that decision would make.

Serving three years in France as a Medical Officer and field surgeon, he admitted himself that it wasn’t uncommon for him to aid repelling an attack on the hospital during the night, which was the reason he was then taught how to use a gun, and even upon coming home, he still carried one with him. We also see the flashback of him trying to help a badly injured soldier, where they’re under attack and had been ordered to fall back, but Jonathan refuses, telling the other doctor that he’s not going anywhere until he knows his patient will live, or at least have a fighting chance.

In the same flashback, the other doctor asks “Now what?!?” seeing as the onslaught is imminent, and Jonathan pulls out his gun stating: “We fight. Killing is a hell of a lot easier than healing.” Though later admits to himself that it never got easy, once again proving how much it really did affect him and only further fuelled his childhood goal of helping people, regardless of who they were, where they came from or how much money they had.

Let’s not forget that he had just endured those three years of war only to go home to another one, returning to London, only to be attacked in the street, left for dead, wake up in a mass grave alone as an Ekon, blinded by thirst drained his own sister, was hunted, attacked, thrown into a new job as head surgeon, tended to patients inside and outside the hospital, ran errands for people all over London on foot, had to deal with the Spanish Flu, discover the vampire epidemic, be hunted by his own unintentionally turned sister who taunted their mother further breaking her mind, then had to kill his sister, had to investigate the source of the vampire epidemic, find a cure, then fight a literal God........................... all within a few weeks of returning home. He literally went from one war into another, where he was forced to basically lead and fight that war on his own.

I think this is why I love writing his pacifist route most, because despite all of this, the war, the events of Vampyr, that version of him refuses to give in and become the monster that folk keep telling him he is. Yes, he’s dangerous, incredibly so, but he uses his wits first. Just look at his fight against McCullum, he tried so hard to reason with him but he’s given no choice but to fight him, once the hunter is beaten, pacifist Jonathan offers him his hand to help him stand to his feet and simply walks away sparing him, once again proving that he’s not just some kind of heartless monster.

I just..... sorry, just me gushing over Jonathan as always. xD

PSD credit

[mfangeleeta]

Last Call for Vodka

I’m not dead, just resting. Here’s something new for my never ending Bering and Wells series. Last Call for Vodka . Also, get the damn shot.

She discovered with great delight that one does not love one's children just because they are one's children but because of the friendship formed while raising them.

“How could he have been so stupid!” HG paced outside the ICU unit. “If he would have just listened to the experts, she wouldn’t be here!”

Myka pulled her wife into her arms. “I know. I know.”

“I can’t lose her,” Helena sobbed.

Myka hugged her tighter.

 It wasn’t a call any of them were expecting. The past three years had been wonderous and horrific. Finally, FINALLY Helena had returned to the Warehouse. And after many long night discussions, and other activities, they were officially together. And married!

But during that time a pandemic had come to the country and to Univille. The governor was a moron, something both Pete and HG agreed upon, and the state was suffering. With emotions so high across the globe, artifacts had been exploding in creation with more and more dire consequences. The team was stretched thin, with many of them taking on solo missions, including the Regents, to gather everything.

 “I have found new respect for what you do,” Kosan had told Myka one day as he handed off an artifact. “It beyond what I had realized.”

“Thank you, sir.”

 HG had seen her fair share of pandemics during the 19th Century. Cholera, Small Pox, and Typhus just during her time as an Agent.  Christina, luckily, had remained in good health but several of her daughter’s playmates hadn’t been as fortunate.

“And here I thought that we’d be past all that,” she had commented on night at dinner as they discussed the rise of cases in America. “Even in my day that had found sound remedies for severe illness.”

“Nature keeps adapting,” Claudia replied. “And getting pissed at humans.”

“We should watch Contagion.” Pete looked at HG. “Have you seen it?”

“I have not.”

 “Do you think something like that could happen?” Helena asked Myka as they readied for bed.

“It’s possible I suppose,” Myka pulled the covers back. “Something similar happened in 1918 with the Spanish Flu.” She paused, “well it should be the Kansas flu. Technically the first case discovered in the United States.”

“Really?”

“Yes. From soldiers returning from World War I. And it spread across the globe and killed millions in a couple of years.”

“Do you think what’s going on now is related?”

“Strain wise, yes. Artifact wise, no.” Myka laid down on the bed, Helena snuggling in next to her. “I wish it was a simple as an artifact. Like the Sweating Sickness.”

 All the Agents and support staff for the Warehouse were some of the first to be vaccinated since they were classified as essential workers. A pale and tired looking Dr. Calder came by for a few days to work some artifact medical protection and spend time with Artie. She had been working non-stop at the CDC to contact trace and on safety guidelines.

“If only everyone in government cared enough, we wouldn’t be in such dire straits.”

“So, the bleach things won’t work?” Pete joked and then quickly shrank away under Dr. Calder’s glare.

  And then they were all too busy for much of anything. Artifact retrievals, drop offs, a cup of coffee in an airport, or an overnight stay in a hotel. Everyone was working, everyone was tired, as countries opened and closed down as waves of the virus hit.

 Myka had been in Iceland when the call came from Helena. She had been back at the Warehouse for a quick turn around when Nate called. Adelaide was sick and in the hospital. She had gone back to school that fall and hadn’t been vaccinated.

She was on the first flight out that morning. Pete was on his way to snag and bag.

 HG had kept in touch with Adelaide, despite the poor ending to her relationship with Nate. They had actually come to the wedding and Helena couldn’t have been happier.

 Myka stepped into the family waiting room in the middle of an argument, one of many.

“I can’t believe she would let you do this to her.”

“I’m her father and I make the decisions.”

“Even if they are deadly ones?”

“As if getting a shot would save her.”

“It would if you had listened to her. To science. To medicine!”

“To the same shady government that you work for that almost got her killed!”

“I know the pain of losing a child Nate,” Helena lost some steam when she spotted Myka. “I hope that you never know it.”

She stepped to the doorway and fell into Myka’s arms.

 It had been touch and go for several days but finally Adelaide was getting better. During that time, everyone from the Warehouse, including Mrs. Fredric, had stopped by Boone to check in on HG. Artie had mentioned he might have a couple of relatively safe artifact options if needed which made Myka smile.

During that time Myka had noticed that other families hadn’t been so lucky. Some were from the virus, others were from the lack of beds or proper care. For a moment she wondered what she’d be doing if she’s stayed pre-Med.

 “Artie says take all the time you need,” Myka said, setting down her book and looking at her wife who had just come back from a visit.  They had been staying at a hotel near the hospital. “But he’d like me to get back to work sometime in the next couple of days. Seems artifacts wait for no woman.”

“I understand,” Helena replied, laying her coat on the back of the chair. “I think I shall return with you.”

“Are you sure? Or I can stay a few more days if you need me too. I think Artie will be okay with it.”

“No love,” Helena sat down next to Myka on the bed. “Now that I know Adelaide is safe and have talked some sense into Nate, it’s time to return to duty. The world is still dire straits and artifacts only make it worse.”

“Okay.” Myka pulled Helena in for a kiss. “Whatever you need.”

“All I need is you.”