#are perhaps not the main electricity consumers here

[gideonisms]

my electric company emailed me and called me to beg me to use less power today because it's hot so I just went to campus where the AC is going to be set to frigid no matter what

[friendofcars]

for the ask game!

"Electric joy surged through Ronan, overpowering the worry."

hi!

my guess: definitely feels like it came from the dream thieves and the word "electric" is making me think it's in chapter 27, which is the substance party chapter (is the worry perhaps about being around gansey and kavinsky simultaneously, or the mitsubishi burning?). i suppose this could also be after ronan dreams the replacement camaro later in the book but i think it's less likely. also as i'm reading my answer back to myself i'm realizing i am biased since i literally just finished re-reading tdt and it might be in greywaren when ronan is sleeping and hears adam talking to declan (chapter 9??? whichever the chapter is when adam tells declan he's deaf in one ear) but ALSO this might be in the sweetmetal sea soul merge chapter. oh wow this is exceedingly difficult but very fun to try to figure out. final answer is the sweetmetal sea "reader, i merged souls with him" sequence. which may or may not be greywaren chapter 25. the "through Ronan" is giving me the sense of not being in a physical body and it would be logical for him to be worried about adam being untethered from his body in such uncharted circumstances.

the answer: it is in fact the sweetmetal sea scene when adam scries and his consciousness finds ronan (although the chapter number is 19, not 25). not sure how i stumbled into the right answer but here we are.

my thoughts on this line: i love how ronan's emotions are described as electric (as things that can surge, like power) given his intrinsic tie to ley energy. and while it was a speculation when i was guessing, i think the fact that ronan (rather than his body) is mentioned emphasizes the fact that he's in his most greywaren-like form, which makes me think back to the dream thieves and how we learn that ronan is both dangerous and beautiful (and manifests both danger and beauty). here, we see him in an otherworldly form but with intense human emotions. the way he swings from worry to joy feels very in character for him, and we learn why his emotions are so intense and all-consuming in the same book. i think it's particularly apt for his feelings regarding adam, specifically, to embody electricity and power given symbols and plot points in trc (the thunder and lightning in the dream thieves, adam essentially rewiring the ley line to give ronan the brief moment of time necessary for ronan to decide to save himself, etc.). the joy is because adam has "come all this way" to find him in the sweetmetal sea, because ronan no longer feels abandoned. he's like a dog with separation anxiety who destroys the house and then jumps for joy when its owner gets home, as if they never left.

i know this chapter gets a lot of criticism for evading what could have been a more satisfying conversation between ronan and adam re: their relationship and i do agree. greywaren could have been 100+ pages longer imo. i think there should have been more writing devoted to better resolution of character arcs and more thorough exploration of interpersonal relationships.

HOWEVER i do really enjoy the chapter itself, even if it's a symptom of greywaren's main weakness as a series finale. i like how adam embraces ronan's eldritch self so readily. i love the refrain of they were wanted, they were wanted, they were wanted. i think it's wild how integral they are to each other's sense of integrated self (this is terribly unhealthy but fascinating to read about). i think due to personal problems the lack of verbal communication is actually kind of appealing in isolation even if i don't condone it. i am thinking about how ecstatic ronan is when adam is with him and how despondent he gets when adam's not and how there's some emotional object permanence issues going on here that i'm a little scared of thinking about. i'm getting off track here but at some point i imagine my focus will shift from trc to td3 and i'll do a much more thorough analysis of the chapter beyond this line/my general opinion.

[signved]

Benefits of Neon Signs for Your Business

There are many advantages to using neon signs. Neon has an effect on people that cannot be denied, and perhaps that is why more and more business owners are returning to neon as a signage option. Neon Sign Manufacturers provide you one of the best lighting options in terms of affordability and return on investment.

There are dozens of benefits of neon signs, but here are some of the top reasons you should consider neon signage for your business:

Neon Consumes Less Energy and Gives Better Light

With the new focus on energy consumption and environmental protection, everyone should switch to more efficient options. Fortunately, you don’t have to sacrifice an aesthetically pleasing sign to make your business greener. Neon uses 50 to 60 percent less power than most modern signs, excluding LED modules. Even an efficient sign lit with incandescent bulbs will consume twice as much power and still not be as effective at getting your business the attention it deserves.

Plus, since neon doesn’t use a filament like other types of bulbs, the neon electrodes stay cool to the touch. Not only is this safer as an option for indoor signage around restaurants, bars or offices, but it also means you waste less electricity. Additionally, it will cost about 20 cents to keep a typical neon sign running for 24 hours.

Neon Signs are Durable

Neon signs that are properly made by expert craftsmen can last for years. Compare this to the average bulb lifespan, which is about 6-12 months. Typically, a neon light will last about ten years or more, and when they fail, it is not the bulb but a wiring problem or failure that is the cause. As long as you perform regular maintenance, your neon signage will serve your business for many years.

Neon is Versatile

Another reason neon is so popular is that you can use it in countless ways. This versatility is the main reason neon is used in densely populated areas like Tokyo, Hong Kong, and New York City. Neon comes in over 100 colors, and the way the glass tubing is crafted makes the designs limitless. You can hire professional glassblowers — craftsmen who bend glass into thousands of different shapes — to design a beautiful look. Anything you imagine for indoor and outdoor signage can be done with neon.

Neon Signage is Eco-Friendly

As mentioned earlier, neon lights are energy efficient. Plus, they are an eco-friendly option that is less harmful to the environment. Neon signs don’t consume much energy. In fact, a toaster will use 100 times more electricity in one use than a neon sign will use in 24 hours. In other words, if you want to reduce your business’s carbon footprint, neon signage is a wise choice. Plus, because neon signs last for at least a decade, they create very little waste.

Neon Signs Look Beautiful

Neon signs can make a simple interior infinitely fancy and more upscale. Unlimited design options mean you can choose colors that match your brand image and identity, accentuate the interior or exterior architecture of your store or office, or add lighting and artwork at the same time.

Transform your office space with inspiring signage that hints about the company’s mission. Light up your logo. Hang the designs above customers’ heads. The glossy shine will make these images more recognizable to those who see them regularly. It’s the most cost-effective marketing campaign you’ll ever invest in.

Neon Is Very visible and Lights up The Night

Businesses that want to increase their visibility and brand identity can greatly benefit from neon. The brightness of neon makes it not only pleasant to the eyes but also visible in all types of weather, including fog and darkness.

Neon Signs Are Masterpieces

Neon signs have many benefits. The beautiful signs can be anything you want and are available in a full range of colors. Not only that, neon signs are an affordable option with a really positive impact.

Are you ready to improve the look and ambiance of your business? Do you have a question about neon signage that we haven’t answered here? Fill out the contact form to find out more. We look forward to hearing from you!

[topicgateway]

Full automation and human replacement: what's in store for robots in ten years

By the beginning of the 2030s, robots can partially replace people in a number of professions and become highly qualified assistants. And, maybe, an alternative to pets. We understand the scenarios for the development of robotics.

Experts from the Boston Consulting Group suggest that by 2030 the global robotics market could increase tenfold, reaching $260 billion. BCG found out what trends affect the development of robotics and how the industry will develop in the next ten years. RBC Trends cite the main conclusions of this study.

Increasing individualization

This scenario is most similar to what is happening in the field of robotics today. Most likely, companies will begin to create customized robots aimed at solving problems required by individual consumers. Perhaps someone will create a robot that picks strawberries, or a machine capable of taking blood samples. Of course, it should be borne in mind that in this market there will initially be a very high price tag. Moreover, robot manufacturers will not be able to increase production volumes to reduce costs. In such an environment, specialized small or medium-sized companies and startups that easily adapt to consumer needs and can create a niche product will have an advantage.

Increased automation

The second likely way of development of robotics. In this case, robots will be able to take jobs: there will be delivery robots, assembly robots and robots for charging electric vehicles. The leaders in this market will be companies that are able to scale production by creating cheap mechatronic devices. Such robots can be released into mass production, designed and purchased online.

The development of artificial intelligence

The last scenario. Here we can expect the development of mobile and fully autonomous intelligent robots. They will be able to cope with complex and dynamic tasks: work at airports, train stations and hotels. Potentially, with the development of such a scenario, companies that create robots will shift to the background. They are more likely to turn into platforms for testing new software variants.

Artificial intelligence and other technological solutions will bring humans and robots closer together. 

The development of robotic technologies and the increase in the capabilities of assistants will greatly simplify the interaction with them. Artificial intelligence will soon allow robots to cope with unexpected situations without the help of humans. Swarm intelligence will increase the capabilities of mobile robots: they will be able to distribute tasks between each other and even change them. Visualization systems contribute to the development of greater autonomy during data analysis and verification. The development of 5G communication networks and other communication capabilities will be the impetus for increasing the range of robots and cloud networks, expanding the computing power of robots and sensors.

Robots will begin to learn. 

Today, robots are trained to solve problems in the real world on special simulators, but this is a rather crude method, which is gradually becoming insufficient: situationally and instant decisions are still partly beyond the control of robots. However, a few years ago, OpenAI, a company that studies and develops neural networks, created a robotic arm that solved the most popular puzzle - the Rubik's cube - without human help.

[luxuryvideos2023]

Learn how to Create A Viral Video On YouTube

Luxury High Definition Knowlegde

A culture of virus-like marketing can be due to the initial days of the very most first social network mediums which were actually interactive networks where consumers used to interact with the other person to share jokes, suggestions and power level presentations etc . For the extreme interactivity such mediums soon gain popularity among masses of folks, providing businesses a way to use these mediums to market their selves and their products and services. Hence various web 2 . 0 web sites like Facial area book, twitter, for example gained popularity presenting an opportunity for affiliate marketers to attract awareness of masses with posting attractive along with interesting videos to help these networks together with try to bring people to your websites.

Luxury High Definition Knowlegde

Perhaps before that the us going for viral videos is vastly registered concerning YouTube, the most traditionally source which is appearing visited by scores of online visitors day to day to search videos for virtually every kind of information they need. Online marketers soon clutched this opportunity and additionally started posting video clips in order to get the meaning viral. As level of competition grew, the desire for content planted, and marketers going crafting attractive in addition to eye catching clips in order to make them proceed viral.

However , there are lots of factors to consider if your intention is to go through virus-like marketing. In order to develop a video to have a likelihood at becoming virus-like it needed to have got a few or every one of the following characteristics:

A person's video must be:

Original

Appealing

Dramatic

Eye - getting and enormously interesting

Unexpected

Funny / Incomprehensible

A viral online video varies from the an electric of online marketing training video in terms of its site. Viral videos will only perform perfect when they are inserted to places apart from the company's site. Available objective of a virus-like video is to rise market reach. Their objective behind your viral video is usually to reach to herd of audience and as such the marketer will endeavour to embed your viral videos in a great many different sites to arrive as wide range from audience as possible.

Even if viral videos might get you to millions of followers, there are also some down sides behind this strategy, most of which are jotted less than;

Few internet marketers fear embedding a good viral video upon external sites like once a videos is embedded beyond the company's site the corporation totally loses influence over it such as there is no control to the surrounding text, the nearby pictures and postings. If you allow a video to be looked at anywhere, you have to think about that viewers often see your logo along with messaging put adjoining with less tasty images etc .

It is also very difficult to help you track the accomplishment of viral video lessons as you can't recognise whether your movie reached your potential audience or not. You can find a high number of ideas but it is not sufficient to consider the number of opinions only. In order for a person's video to be regarded as a viral results, it is essential to know of which whether or not you were recognized by the right kind of customers which is almost impossible so that you can track. However , if your main video is organised on a video revealing site like Myspace, you can review a comments your online video receives to get an understanding of the level of "buzz" your viral training video have generated, nonetheless is still difficult to spot its impact on travelling online traffic aimed at your web.

This is why viral videos is best suited for website advertising campaigns aimed to bring about brand-building and buzz-making and to reach to be able to masses of target audience.

Trying to become a youtuber! I buy videos and put them on here! All videos are no where but here! Subscribe for videos on time! My beginner blog @Hey, check out my website, "Luxury video blog" with this link: https://palmerchance30.wixsite.com/luxuryvideoblog

[eclairstylesty]

Razor Blades Recommendations

You rush and wear this amazing dress! Leaning on the ground, you realize that those nasty stubbles you tackled last week are now back. Or look in the window and accept defeat in the battle against the spooky shadow of 6:00.

Shaving was likely your routine since junior year. How can I avoid similar problems? Razor bumps and irritation can ruin a shave. Perhaps we should think about what kind of knife to use. It'll cause you to discomfort once your hair gets back after shaving.

Learn more about some of the best razor blades that we've compiled here!

Skin types and razor blades

There are many shaving tools that are available to consumers, and the selection is tough. When it comes to reducing the risk of shaved skin, choosing the right blade will reduce your pain. Normally shaving involves two main choices: traditional and electric razors.

Traditional razors have disposable razors, but safe razors. Disposables are cheap and convenient, and most have poor-grade blades that could affect the skin. When you suffer from skin problems, you may prefer the safety razor.

Harry's "Winston" razor

Harry's Winston razor Our longtime favorite in this field, Harry's Winston razor provides the smoothness you seek for a razor for close shaves. It is perfectly designed to give the right amount of pressure - glide & smoothness.

It is our favorite design too, combining an elegant aluminum body with matching silver grips. Last but not least, Harry's efficient shaving machine comes to our doors for just under $2 per piece.

Schick Hydro5. Sense

The Hydro 5 sense Schick Hydro 5 Series uses soothing foaming lotion to soften skin while shaving in three varieties: cooling menthol, moisturizing coconut oil, or formula to soothe the sensitivity of skin with herbal oils.

All five blades offer smooth and consistent shaving and include a flip-back trimmer for spot inspection and detailing, and refills are always available at your nearest drugstore.

Dovo straight razor

You will not be able to replicate the barbershop experience of your bathroom sink in your home. The Davos traditional razor is the next-level solution. This razor has a standard-size, 3.5 inches-thick blade that features a beautiful handcrafted brushed finish.

Relying purely on straight razors doesn't work well for snoring. You can buy leather straps to sharpen the edges.

Bevel safety razor

Safety razors are a great option for avoiding razor rash. It has a lightweight and comfortable grip that ensures a comfortable and safe shave without damaging your skin.

It takes some practice but once mastered, it is best to get the best results. It can also be used for shaving more efficiently because the safety blade is considerably cheaper to replace.

Gillette SkinGuard Razor

Our eyes need a balance between skin and blades. Skin guard razors are an ideal solution as they are designed for the lubrication of the skin while controlling the blade's pressure.

A dual-blade razor shaves less than 5-blade cartridges, but this should make a good razor for sensitive skin.

Dollar Shave Club 6-blade starter kit

DSC subscriptions can be hard to match due to sheer cost, but you should try a few blades from this brand before committing to a monthly subscription.

Start with this once-off order and take it from there. Dollar Shaving Club 6-blade starter set.

What type of razor gives the closest shave?

Almost any razor is able to provide a more accurate shave as compared to an electric trimmer or an electric shaver. To ensure your blade remains clean and sharp, you need to replace them regularly.

[wordsandrobots]

I want to talk about Cybermen. Well, actually, I kind of don't but it's been that kind of day.

Cybermen are my favourite Doctor Who monster. Which is ironic given I spent a few years as one of the main Dalek Guys on deviantArt, but there we are. Introduced in the last serial to star William Hartnell as the Doctor, The Tenth Planet, Cybermen are cyborg invaders from an Earth-like world, seeking to harvest resources in order to prolong their own existence and –

OK let's get this out of the way. The Cybermen are not the Borg. The Borg (Star Trek's premier PVC and electrical accessory fanciers) are unchecked capitalism as an alien hive mind, consuming everything in their path, reducing individual distinctiveness to a component in the machine. The 'ultimate user' of everything and everyone. You don't lose yourself as a drone, per se, you are simply drowned out by the deafening majority, unable to affect the consensus drive to expand and expand, for ever and ever. 'Assimilation' in that context is a perfect term for the very precise meaning it carries: 'your culture will adapt to service us.' Borg do not destroy, they simply incorporate.

The Cybermen, however, are would-be Übermensch. A branch of humanity that has replaced body and soul with plastic and cold logic, removing all 'weakness' in the name of survival. To put it in their own words,

“We are called Cybermen . . . We were exactly like you once but our cybernetic scientists realised that our race was getting weak . . . Our lifespan was getting shorter so our scientists and doctors devised spare parts for our bodies until we could be almost completely replaced . . . Our brains are just like yours except that certain weaknesses have been removed . . . You call them emotions, do you not?”

There's a fair amount to unpack here. It is, first and foremost, easy to read this as some Nazi Shit, encapsulating obsessions with health, physical strength, degeneration et cetera (I believe El Sandifer drew this connection at some point but it wasn't in her Tenth Planet essay because that's when she compares the Cybermen to star monks). Coupling said Nazi Shit to spare-part surgery is perhaps on par with coupling it to evil underground troglodytes engaged in a war with Perfect Aryans for unfortunate implications: the Cyberman are explicitly conceived out of then-current interest in replacement organs and how this might lead to Theseus' Ship human beings. Their basic outline risks crude ableism and technophobia.

However, there isn't anything wrong with presenting the destruction of emotions in the name of eradicating weakness as evil, especially the way this first story presents it. Later on, there will be lots of shouty robot men extolling the benefits of emotionlessness with the same vigour as many so-called rationalists over the past couple of decades. But at the start, it manifests as apathy. To again quote the Cyberman from The Tenth Planet, when Polly responds to its casual dismissal of two doomed astronauts by demanding, “Don't you care?”

Cyberman: “Care? No, why should I care?”

Polly: “Because they're people and they're going to die!”

Cyberman: “I do not understand you, there are people dying all over your world yet you do not care about them.”

The Cybermen simply don't give a damn about anyone who isn't them. And of course, yes, it's perfectly true Polly doesn't personally care about every person on the planet. But there are people who do. There are people who'd try to save them even if it isn't possible, because the emotional, moral thing to do is make the attempt. Cybermen, on the other hand, are explicitly selfish creatures, unmoved by anyone else's suffering, seeing no worth in any goals other than their own.

And that's the scary part.

You see, to me, treating them as the invading horde that will make you Just Like Them misses the crucial point that the Cybermen did this to themselves. Indeed, those first Cybermen aren't really interested in converting humans. They extend the offer to people they assume are going to die when Mondas (their planet) drains away all of Earth's energy (it's a whole thing), but they aren't pushy about it in the way later versions will be, where it becomes the entire reason they do anything. When other characters react with horror, the response is the Cyber equivalent of a shrug: poor irrational humans who cannot see the favour we would be doing them by making them perfect.

Moreover, the 'perfection' they have achieved is one fitting them to a specific purpose. Mondas is an exhausted world, its people dying. So they core out everything that makes them human in order to persevere. Not just fear and pain but compassion and a drive to fix things. Adapt and survive, at the cost of the will to stop what must be survived. Why bother saving the world when you can become immune to its death?

I think about this when I see tools like Grammarly promoting themselves on the basis of 'clearer communication at work'. I think about this when I hear about people sleeping in offices to be more productive. I think about it when business owners try to make their employees into robots when robots turn out to be too expensive. I think about it when I realise those at the top of society will demand the rest of us change rather than make the slightest alteration to their own circumstances.

The Cybermen have occasionally been written as finding allies among industrialists, providing them with a super-strong workforce that does not need to rest, making 'useful' entities out of 'useless' populations. It's a terrifyingly apt juxtaposition. I think the core of horror in it, though, is not just the abuse of human beings it represents but that once you become a Cyberman, you stop minding your own degradation. You, in fact, start to see anyone who retains their feelings, their quirks, their love, their pride, their hate and fear as lesser than yourself.

You have adapted to serve someone else and you don't even care.

Anyway, this mini essay brought to you by a Big Finish Cyberman serial set in 1930s Berlin right after the actual Nazis took control that doesn't once mention the labour movements they were a reaction to or the establishment forces that enabled their rise to power because that was better than the communists.

(I am, by the way, fucking furious at James Goss for having a character compare Cybermen to golems in the same story they're explicitly used as Nazi analogies. The script is slapdash enough to irritate me on its own but that is just another level of unnecessary screw-up.)

[amelee23]

Fool | J. YH

Genre: Fluff

Tags: Best friends to lovers, Suggestive themes and sexual jokes, Wooyoung is an accidental wingman, Nerdy gamers having at it, A lot of Need for Speed references

No. Words: 3.5k

⭐⭐⭐

She always loved when they got completely absorbed in their little bubble - engrossed in what was making them tick in the most passionate of ways. Since Yunho came to pick her up and take her to the dorm, she didn’t even realize when they got there - or even that the house was empty -  because they were too caught in a conversation about the new-coming video games of 2021. The small task of taking off shoes or their jackets, the walk to Yunho’s room and the struggle to get comfortable in the gaming chair; these were not memories in her mind. All she could remember was the way he smiled without stop and the sparkle in his eyes as excitement took over his entire being.

Only after Yunho told her he’s been playing old games lately - specifically racing classics, of the Need For Speed series - had she realized the house was too quiet. Yunho then informed her they all left to eat at a restaurant with the manager team, but he asked to be left behind so he could spend time with his best friend. She couldn’t help the warm smile raising her lips at the sweet sacrifice this man made for her.

A few minutes later and she felt the usual competitive side of her kick in, seeing Yunho with a controller in hand, playing Need for Speed: Underground 2, a game she remembered dearly from her childhood. She couldn’t help but feel she could do so much better than him - and that’s how the challenge came to be.

“Yeah, you want to bet?” Yunho suggested, his cheeks raised in a cheeky smile, but his lips expressed something a lot more smug. 

“2 out of 3: sprint, Street X and drift.” The boy laughed at his best friend’s confidence, finding her determination very charming, like always.

“Deal.” He announced, raising his hand so she could high five the deal to completion. It never failed to amaze him, how gentle her high fives felt to him, even though she’s the only woman he’s ever seen break a controller before. “What are we betting on, money?”

“Money is boring.” Taken aback, Yunho had a healthy laugh at her statement. He couldn’t wait to say this sentence again, out of context, and turn it into both teasing material and an inside joke.

“Okay, then what do you suggest?” He asked, still cackling with a half lidded eye smile.

“Let’s do something more… daring.” Trying to act surprised, Yunho opened his eyes in curiosity and hummed. They both got to thinking for about a minute, then she snapped her fingers exaggeratedly to show she had an idea. “Let’s randomly ask Wooyong to give the loser a punishment!”

“Like, with no context?”

“Exactly! After one of us loses, we ask Wooyong to give out a spicy punishment-! No one would be better than him at coming up with something totally ridiculous that one of us will regret for a lifetime!”

“I mean, you’re not wrong. But I’m starting to think you’re a masochist.”

“It’s a 50/50 gamble, so who knows?” She rebutted, wiggling her eyebrows at Yunho suggestively. He could feel his ears heating up so he pretended to need to face his computer for a while. “So, what do you say?” She questioned him, moving closer to where he was, probably intentionally, because she knew how to tell when he was turning shy. 

“I say you’re both crazy and a genius … a crazy genius. But I’m all on board.”

“Yas, leggo baby!” Yunho shook his head as he took in the image of his best friend leaning back into her chair, controller in hands, legs somewhere in between the right armrest and the air. Her enthusiasm dripped from the way she was grooving to the OST of the game. Warmth and an electricity-like feeling began filling his chest.

It took them perhaps a little too long to decide on the first track to play. Eventually, after long minutes of bickering, they chose a winding long race and swore to not try to mess the other up.

Yunho was the first one to drive, his engine roaring as he continued to hold his acceleration button. He had some lucky escapes from running into traffic - and easily overcame his competition. Now in front, he was taking short cut turns, but to her, they looked too time consuming. Yunho was trying to drive as properly as possible, and it was affecting his time; she couldn’t help but puff up as she realized it would be an easy win against him. With a record of 2:27:34, Yunho rolled his chair away from the screen and let his best friend take over.

Hands grasping the controller, she took a deep breath to overly-dramatize the situation even further.

“Eat my dust.” She mumbled, and Yunho gave her a curious side eye.

Swiftly she overtook all the NPCs, climbing up to first place. She wasn’t even worried about them to begin with. As the turns approached, Yunho realized she wasn’t showing signs of taking her fingers away from the acceleration button - not until the last second, at least. Her turns were either taken with the help of crashing into a wall or into a stylish, speedy drift. Yunho was baffled, thinking that crashing on purpose to finish faster should be considered as cheating. But he accepted his defeat as her time was 2:14:58, over ten seconds less than him.

Cracking her knuckles, she wore a smug smile as she let Yunho choose the next race for them to play. It was 1 to 0 currently, so he decided he should spice things out now - by choosing a ‘random’ Street X race. He probably forgot to mention to her that Street X were his forte in this game.

Yunho put his focus face on from the moment the cars showed up on screen. For most, this Street X race was difficult to even beat on first place - but he knew what he was doing. 

“I hope you had your fun.” He threatened, hands moving effortlessly on the controller to take him through the sharp, abrupt turns which were in Street X - a race type specifically made about taking those turns right, not about speed. Raw talent was dripping off of his fingers, but she didn’t want to feel discouraged just yet. Perhaps her method of using walls to take turns could work here, too-

Now that it was her turn, she realized it wasn’t the case - in here hitting walls was the worst thing you could do. Eyes dashing in between her car and the timer non-stop, she realized she was losing a lot of time correcting her direction if she didn’t brake properly before a turn. By the last lap, she already lost hope, as she reached Yunho’s record and wasn’t done with the race yet. 

“Tight game.” She stated, trying to ease the thick competitive air in the room. Yunho just smiled, a sparkle of something naughty in his eyes.

“Would you like to do the honours?” He asked, referring to choosing the drift track, the last race of their competition. He looked so sure of himself, to even offer that she chooses the track; she couldn’t help but feel even more frustrated by that cockyness. 

“Yeah.” She answered, not even looking him in the eyes. She knew what track she wanted - the one on the actual streets of the city, which had two off road areas - those were bomb in doing drifts over 50.000 points. 

Yunho was surprised she chose such a difficult track, but didn’t really complain. He had recently unlocked this track since he was nearing the end of the game, and so he knew the trick of the off road areas too, especially because he failed them enough times. He collected small drifts here and there on the way to the first special area, then he made sure to catch enough speed to send the back of his car in a beautiful curve, following the form of the turn. He didn’t need to, but he took the risk of connecting that turn to the next one that followed and gathered around 74.000 points in that area only. She was biting her lip, wondering if she still had the nimbleness to beat that.

The next special area gained him about 37.000, and with all the other points collected from smaller drifts, he was able to gain over 130 thousand. 

She was already pinching the bridge of her nose, knowing that she would probably lose. It’s been a while since she played this game, and the special drift areas were always a gamble. Yunho couldn’t help but laugh at the tension in her back, giving her a friendly pat to brighten up.

“You got this!” He cheered, because even if he wanted to win, he didn’t like seeing her so discouraged. He often times also got mad when he realized he was being too competitive and not giving anyone a chance to win against him.

She started out just like Yunho, gaining some small scores on the way to the main attraction of the race. As she saw the goal in her eyes, suddenly she struggled to regain control of her car in the midst of the big drift. She was headed straight for the edge, meaning her score would be neutralized if she hit it - so she was forced to stop her car. The special area unfortunately only brought her 55 thousand, a weak number compared to Yunho. She brushed it off and continued on her way, towards the second special area. She had a better feeling about this one, as her car was being much more responsive, and even if the space was smaller, she gained another 50 thousand there too. 

But unfortunately, as she hit the finish line, she realized - they both scored in the range of 130 thousand - but hers was exactly that number. Yunho was closer to 140.

With a little dance celebration, Yunho announced he was the winner of the tournament. Seeing him act so goofy, she couldn’t even bring herself to sulk. It’s not like it was unusual for Yunho to win their dumb little competitions, but it would’ve been nice to win one anyway.

“I acknowledge your driving skills, Mr. Jung.” She said with a smirk, offering him a hand to shake. 

“You weren’t so bad yourself, well… except the part of taking turns with your face.” Now that the tension was lifted, they were back to being all smiley and supportive of each other.

“What can I say? I like using my head.” Yunho chuckled, grabbing the controller to quit out of the game so he could find some movie to watch while they eat. Remembering that he needed to order some food, he pulled out his phone - and read Wooyoung’s name.

“So… do I need to ask Wooyoung to give you a ‘daring’ punishment?” He used air quotes to express the idea of something naughty. For a while he forgot that this was the penalty of losing, the thought completely slipping his mind as he focused too much on doing well in the game.

“I guess.” She shrugged her shoulders, secretly hoping that he had forgotten and she could’ve avoided doing something so embarrassing. 

Hesitant, Yunho opened the messenger app and tapped on Wooyoung’s name. He didn’t know if he was excited about what was about to come.

[Yunho]: Hey Wooyoung, can you come up with a ‘daring’ punishment a girl could do for a guy for losing a game?

[Sent 18:46]

A thick silence enveloped the two as Yunho stared at the screen, waiting for Wooyoung to see his message. They were both hoping the resident jokester of the group would go easy on them this time.

[Seen 18:51] 

Five minutes later, Wooyoung saw the message and Yunho watched the three dots dance for a very short amount of time. And, as it turned out, Wooyoung didn’t ask any questions - he gave a straightforward answer.

[Wooyoung]: Oral

His answer had Yunho opening his eyes in pure shock. He glanced at his best friend, who was looking at him expectantly, and then back at the screen. 

“Uhm…” He couldn’t even bring himself to mutter such a word to her. Before he knew it, he let his phone down and stared into the distance like a deer in the headlights. 

Yes, asking Wooyoung was a bad idea. 

“Uhm? Did he answer?” She pressed on, and Yunho couldn’t do much more than nod. 

“Look for yourself.” He showed her his phone, and she felt as if she just got hit with a soccer ball in the stomach. Blinking at Yunho in disbelief, she let out a confused puff of air.

“I mean, I expected something like a sexy dance…. But not this. Wooyoung really is another level.” She complained, suddenly looking as lost as Yunho. They both looked like ghosts, the colors drained from their faces. 

In truth, both of their heads were racing at that moment - imagining what could happen if they went through with it. Yunho’s face heated up and his body grew heavy, and she was biting her lip. But a common thought was keeping them both grounded; that they were just friends, and nothing more.

Moments later, Yunho was able to collect himself and focus his vision again. She was in distress, even in a haze. He pulled out his phone again, texting Wooyoung to rectify the situation.

[Yunho]: How about something a little bit… more decent. This is my best friend we’re talking about.

Wooyoung read the message instantly after, his fingers fast on the keyboard.

[Wooyoung]: Oh my God it’s her! Why didn’t you tell me! I thought you were finally scoring a lady with those video games of yours!

[Yunho]: I told you guys I was spending time with her today

[Wooyoung]: You did? OOPS

[Yunho]: Yeah, oops. You almost gave me a heart attack

[Wooyoung]: *boner

[Yunho]: DUDE

[Wooyoung]: Okay okay I’m sorry, but you’re the one who asked me outta the blue

[Wooyoung]: Something a little more tame… HMMM

[Wooyoung]: You’re a tall dude, right? How about you have her wear one of your shirts for the rest of the day… but like only your shirt. I bet she’d look cute ;)

[Yunho]: That doesn’t sound that bad, thanks

[Wooyoung]: I can’t wait to get home :P

She dragged her voice suddenly, bringing Yunho back to reality. He didn’t realize how focused he was in his conversation with Wooyoung.

“Uhm, so, yeah! Wooyoung gave you a more tame challenge. He said you should wear one of my shirts for the rest of the day… like, as a dress type thing.” Yunho tried to explain, but he was still nervous from the previous shock and tripping over his own words.

“So wear a boyfriend shirt.” Yunho felt his being vibrate once again at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’.

“I… guess so.”

“I can do that! That sounds more like a prize than anything, to be honest. You know I have a fixation for your clothes.” She said with a laugh. She seemed to be back to her cheerful self, already walking her way to Yunho’s closet. “Can I choose any shirt?”

“Sure, go ahead.” Still no intonation in his words, Yunho’s mind was not present in the conversation at all. It wasn’t long before he zoned out again.

He couldn’t possibly be attracted to his best friend in such a way. They had a strong spiritual bond, for sure, but it was never anything physical for them. They appreciated each other for who they are, so he never asked himself questions like these before.

Or at least that’s what he wanted to believe. He heard the door handle move and then saw her come back in, legs bare and sexy, her small frame basically swimming in his large shirt. She sat down on her chair and melted back into it without a care in the world. She looked comfortable, even.

“So, are we ordering that food?” She asked, but in Yunho’s daze, he missed the smirk playing on her lips. If only he knew how much she was enjoying this.

Forcing her to stay put, Yunho was the one to receive the food at the front door. He sighed in relief when he managed to put a blanket over her, as they nestled up in bed to watch a movie and enjoy their food. Out of sight, out of mind, they say.

His torture began again as soon as they got back into gaming -  this time choosing to do their usual foolery - playing Minecraft together, one being in charge of the mouse and the other in charge of the keyboard. No wonder they never made any real progress on their world, since they could never be in sync with each other to actually defend themselves from zombies. ‘

Time flew by as they laughed and played, but the rustle of keys at the front door still managed to startle Yunho out of his mind. Panicked, he got up to throw her pants back at her, words leaving his mouth a little too fast.

“How about you put those back on now.” Cocking an eyebrow at him, she hung them on the chair, clearly refusing to do so.

“Why would I? The punishment says for the rest of the day - or as long as I’m here.”

“Yes, but-” Yunho pursed his lips to the side. He didn’t know how to word his thoughts. To add more pressure, the door to his room swung open and San came inside to throw his phone on the bed. He glanced at Yunho’s best friend briefly and they exchanged hellos before he went back to the living room, where the boys were being loud over something.

Yunho breathed out in relief that San was nice enough not to stare. Something about other men seeing her like this irked him, even more so that she was wearing his shirt. 

“But?” She urged him to continue speaking, getting off of the chair to stand in front of him. Being the tall guy Yunho was, it wasn’t often that she had the opportunity to stare him down like that. Yunho gulped as he felt his throat dry up, taking in the image of his friend - no, an attractive woman - looking at him with such a suggestive expression.

“I don’t want anyone else to see you like this…” He mumbled, the beauty before his eyes already making him breathless.

“Why not?” She teased.

“Because…” There wasn’t any logical answer in his mind, or even a concrete idea. “I think we need to reevaluate our relationship.” Letting out a healthy laugh, she wasted no time to climb in his lap. Yunho was happy, perhaps the most relieved he’d been the entire day. He didn’t know there was such a sexual tension in between them until it finally dissipated. 

“Finally!” She exclaimed.

“You think so too?” She hummed in response, eyes locking with his lips as she did. 

The kiss itself felt good - like two magnets clicking into place. What felt even better though, was being able to accept all the feelings he’s been burying deep inside himself. He was wrong in thinking something more wasn’t possible between them.

A loud knock echoed from the door, and Wooyoung’s voice could be heard screaming from the other side.

“You two decent?” 

“No!” Yunho yelled back. They certainly weren’t a sight he’d want his bandmates to see - his shirt was hiking up on her thighs, their arms tangled around each other’s bodies. 

“What do you mean ‘no’??!” This time it was HongJoong’s voice, and Yunho knew he messed up. Almost effortlessly, he got up with her still around his hips and grabbed her pants on the way to the bathroom. 

“Okay, but seriously get dressed now.” Yunho said, and only got a wink from her in response. He rolled his eyes and went back into the room to let her change. 

He really was a fool to think this wouldn’t work out - he already loved every second of it.

[acris-kerd]

For the @sidlinkgiftexchange !! My giftee was @the-puny-pichu !

“Link, that looks revolting.”

Sidon leaned away from the dubious concoction his companion had pulled from his shiekah slate, meeting the Hylian’s doe eyed stare with barely concealed nausea.

Link looked down at the bowl of teeth soup in his hands. Teeth soup.

“…Yeah. It tastes about as good as it looks.”

He stared at it for a moment more and then shrugged, tossing the foul dish into the fire before them. Sidon flinched as the flames cracked and glowed a sickly green before consuming the foul fuel. Link had already moved on to the next entree of stored food in his slate, this time pulling out a cake.

“The variety of dishes in your possession is both amusing and alarming.” Sidon observed, squinting at the slice Link shared with him as though looking for hidden molars or perhaps a bit of moblin guts.

He’d seen the offensive concoctions Link cooked up now. Nothing was safe.

Link shrugged again, inhaling the food.

“I usually cook with what I have. Sometimes I have a lot, sometimes I don’t.”

“I see…and what happens to be the status of your inventory tonight, then?”

Sidon tried to hide the nervousness in his voice. Link pulled out another dish of food, the delectable smell of braised fish paring well with his broad grin.

“A lot.”

The odd pair settled into a warm, summer night. They did this now and again, when Link decided the strange slate on his hip was stuffed with as much as it could carry.. Sidon had long assumed whatever hoarding tendencies Link possessed had been grossly enabled by the sheikah technology, but he wasn’t one to complain. Especially when it meant spending time with Link.

“Here. I found a bunch of silverscale spears and some Zora swords.”

He proceeded to unload a small armory on the ground beside Sidon, who started waving his hands frantically.

“Link! Good gracious, my friend, thank you, but I can’t carry all of this back to the domain myself!”

“Oh,” The little Hylian looked at the half-materialized hilt in his hand, shoving it back into the nether regions of whatever void was contained on his hip. “Good point. I’ll just drop it off with Bazz before I head out.”

Sidon smiled weakly, shaking his head.

“I don’t know how or where you find all of these weapons…I think it’s fair to say half our army is supplied by you alone.”

“Nah,” Link laughed bashfully, throwing another dubious concoction into the fire. The flames turned purple this time. “I just collect a lot of things. No sense in keeping it if I don’t use it.”

“Oh? Are Zora weapons not up to your standards then?” Sidon raised a brow, privately enjoying the fluster that washed over Link’s expression.

“Wha-No! No, it’s not that! I mean—I just have a lot of weapons and—“

Sidon laughed, absently resting an assuaging hand at Link’s back. The champion was so small he could nearly wrap his clawed fingers around him. The thought did something strange to Sidon’s stomach, but many strange feelings tended to permeate his sensibilities around Link, so he tried to ignore it.

He also ignored the way it seemed Link was leaning into his hand.

“I’m merely giving you a hard time, my friend. I know you travel far and wide, and there are undoubtedly more suitable weapons for your cause.”

He eyed the legendary blue hilt that rested close to Link, the previously lightened sensation in his chest taking a turn. Link had been openly carrying the Master Sword much more frequently as of late. Sidon wasn’t sure what it meant, but it left him nervous. Afraid, even.

Link seemed to sense what he was looking at, not meeting his eyes. They were equally quiet for a long time.

“…I’m going to face him soon. Very soon.” Link finally spoke, his voice weighted and somber.

A cold feeling began to spread through Sidon’s chest. It wasn’t a mystery who—or rather what—Link was talking about. Very suddenly, Sidon wanted to pull Link closer. The temptation was so strong he had to remove his hand from where it rested against his back. Link looked somehow smaller without it there.

“…I suppose you won’t be needing a silverscale spear then.” Sidon attempted to lighten the mood, a weak smile playing at his lips.

Link didn’t react for a moment, staring hard into the fire before relenting with a snort, resuming the task of cleaning out his slate.

“Probably not.”

An owl hooted somewhere overhead. The river nearby rushed quietly in the darkness. Sidon let himself stare at Link, at the lean muscles that had been honed around an abused frame, hardened from experience and trauma. His fingers twitched in his lap, claws ticking together mutely. Link was quite fierce when he wanted to be, determined and resolute in a way that bordered on obsessed. Very little seemed to phase his most treasured friend. Even the prospect of facing Calamity Ganon didn’t seem to shake him, not like it did Sidon.

Every time he thought about his small, wild Hylian facing up against such an ancient evil, he wanted to pull him close and protect him from his own destiny. Sidon was a shamefully selfish Prince, it seemed. At least where Link was concerned.

The larger Zora shifted uneasily on the grass, appreciating the way Link spread the fuel of the fire so the flames stayed low and less stressful to his scales.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked, eyeing Sidon with undue concern. That feeling in his chest swelled full once again.

“Of course, my friend. No need to worry. I can easily take a quick dip in the river if necessary.”

“Want to right now?” Link very confidently stood up.

“What—now?” Sidon looked at the surrounding darkness, a little taken aback by Link’s sudden enthusiasm.

“Sure.” Link looked like he’d already decided for the both of them, packing his shield, bow, and the sword that seals the darkness into his slate before pulling off his tunic.

Sidon felt a blush flood his face, trying very hard not to appreciate how the firelight cast the musculature of Link’s body into sharp relief and failing miserably. Without inhibition, Link kicked off his boots and pants, driving home how very serious he was.

“Wait, Link, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Why not? You just said you could take quick dip.”

“Yes, but I’m a Zora. That river is hardly calm and there’s no light out.”

“The moon is out.” Link argued, a cheeky twinkle in his eye.

“That’s hardly sufficient for avoiding underwater currents!” Sidon quickly stood and chased after his stubborn companion, who was already heading for the river.

Link turned around, walking backwards towards the water and wearing an expression that left Sidon gaping like a newly hatched guppy.

“Guess you’ll have to make sure I don’t find any. You wouldn’t let me drown, would you Sidon?”

Thank goodness the depth of night concealed how deeply Sidon was blushing. Link was being especially disarming tonight.

“O-of course not!”

“Then it’s fine. Come on.”

Link waved him closer. The pearly light of the moon cast a gentle glow over his features, brightening his eyes. Against the deep blue surroundings, he stood out like a candle, confident as ever and heedless to any apparent danger. Sidon eyed the swift moving water nervously, looking back to Link’s comparatively tiny body.

This was a bad idea.

Without an ounce of fear, Link walked into the closest current, stumbling slightly and quickly regaining his footing. Sidon splashed in after him, throwing any reservations to the wind and bracing a hand at his back.

“Honestly Link, there are other places—safer places—to swim.” He muttered, eyes scanning the dark waters and zeroing in on a plethora of dangers.

“Then take us there.”

He spoke so simply, as if it was the most logical and reasonable choice in the world, which it was. Sidon couldn’t figure out why he was so flustered with it all. Maybe it was the suddenness of the late night swim. Maybe it was the strange position of having to protect this small, ferocious servant of the Goddess from a mundane death. Maybe it was the fact that it was Link, who’d always had an uncanny knack for throwing off his princely confidence, asking to share a relatively normal experience that for some reason felt anything but normal to Sidon.

“Of course!” He agreed gallantly, hoping he succeeded in hiding the wild swirl of thoughts running rampant in his head.

Link smiled at him, and he felt like a floundering guppy all over again.

Sidon carefully maneuvered them into deeper waters. Link was quickly picked up by the current, holding tight to Sidon’s arm and then sliding himself against his back. It was almost reminiscent of when they took on Vah Ruta together, but without the pressure of a cataclysmic flood weighing them down. The closeness this time seemed much more…intimate.

Perhaps Sidon was just over thinking things. Muzu often said he tended to over think things.

“Ready when you are.” Link spoke into his ear, his voice perfectly calm.

Sidon worked really hard to hide the electric shiver that raced to the farthest end of his dorsal fin, rapidly making himself think of the nearest and safest destination.

“Ah, right! Hold tight then!”

Link most certainly did hold tight, which was good, because Sidon knew the Hylian wasn’t exactly the strongest swimmer. He carefully kept them away from more dangerous rapids, following the river downstream to a small backwater pool he used to visit as a child. It wasn’t particularly deep, by his own standards, but had served as an excellent retreat during his lonely adolescence. It was a place he knew Link would be perfectly safe, no matter how unpredictable he apparently aimed to be.

“Almost there!” Sidon called, feeling Link give him a firm squeeze in response.

The water was already noticeably calmer as he took a nearly hidden channel that branched off the main river. It led to a wide pool with a thick bank of overgrowth. There was hardly anywhere comfortable for a Hylian to sit, but it couldn’t be helped. At least there wasn’t a deadly current.

“This is nice.” Link observed, craning his neck to take in all the details.

The moon shone directly above, highlighting a heavy knot work of local grapevines that had rooted in the silt. They draped across most of the surrounding trees, thick with age. A few boulders broke up the tree growth, heavy with moss and various mushrooms. Sidon caught Link eyeing them with keen interest, though he made no move to collect them.

“I used to come here in my younger days.” Sidon revealed, feeling a touch nostalgic now that he was in the once familiar pool. “It was a good place to escape Muzu…or anything else that happened to be upsetting me.”

Neither of them needed to voice what it was that likely pushed Sidon to seek such solitude. With Link’s help, the grief of his dear sister had been laid to rest, and Sidon reflected, as he observed new chains of vine growth and unfamiliar carpets of moss, that he’d outgrown the solitude of this place as well. It was a strange feeling, to feel the ache of both nostalgia and loss and still be okay.

Link silently slipped off his back, using Sidon’s larger body as an anchoring point to pull himself around front. He had a careful expression on his face, one that turned into a soft smile as he observed Sidon’s comforted ease.

“Thanks for bringing me here.” He said quietly, and he was close, much closer than Sidon realized.

A breath of space was held between them for an impossibly long moment. Link’s gentle face took up Sidon’s field of vision,lips quirked into a small smile and eyes full of a chaotic mixture. There was the firmness of resolve and a shadow of something more harrowing, but above all, tender warmth emanated from twin blue pools. It was like staring at a midsummer sky.

“Sidon.” Link spoke his name quietly, and with an uncommon reverence.

The sound of it put a blush back on the Zora Prince’s face. It must have been dark enough for Link to see it, even in the poor light, because his smile broadened slightly. He stared directly into Sidon’s wide eyes, holding his shoulders with such small, powerful hands, his knees bumping lightly against his chest under the water.

Then Link kissed him.

He kissed him selfishly, indulgently, taking advantage of Sidon’s frozen state and even placing those small, powerful hands against his face. It was a touch that felt like desperation. Through the shock of it all and with a horrible flip in his gut, Sidon realized Link was kissing him like it was goodbye.

When the Hero pulled away, he wasted no time to speak, the previous tenderness in his expression extinguished as if he’d given all of his warmth to Sidon.

“I’m going to face the calamity tomorrow.” He spoke softly, too softly for such devastating news, and the flip in Sidon’s gut turned into a punch. “I probably wont survive. I barely survived the first time. …So I guess there’s no need to worry about this making things awkward between us.”

A hundred years worth of emotions were blowing through Sidon with the force of a hurricane. For once, he had so much to say, so many different feelings that wanted to pour forth, that he had no idea how to formulate any of them. They all demanded near equal attention.

Except for one.

“Please come back.” He whispered, eyes wide with fear, heartbreak, and something entirely too close to love. “Link, please come back.”

Link stared with a slow blooming shock, the previously dead expression washing away with each passing second that made clear the seriousness of Sidon’s request. His eyes progressively opened wide, betraying a rare vulnerability, and his mouth hung slightly agape. Sidon soon realized he was clutching at Link’s hips with the same ferocity that Link held his face.

“You have to come back.” He whispered again, feeling like an idiot who couldn’t string together the words to say much else.

“…You…you want me to come back?” Link breathed out, looking like he hardly dared believe it.

Sidon felt his brain short circuit again.

“Do I want you to-?! Yes! Yes, I want you to come back! I always want you to come back!”

“Always?” Link quirked his lips into an adorable half-smile. Sidon could decide if he wanted to kiss him again or smack him.

“Do you realize the highlight of my life right now is waiting for you to walk through the Ne’ez Yohma shrine so I can watch you throw dubious food into a fire?”

Link’s smile widened with every word, all of the shadows leaving even the darkest corners of his face.

“That’s the highlight, huh?”

Sidon was going to say something about Link being a smart ass, but then his brain caught up with all that was happening. Link had kissed him. And he was going to fight Calamity Ganon in a matter of hours. For the life of him, Sidon couldn’t decide which event shocked him more.

“Come here.” Sidon whispered, and he pulled Link into a second, much less fatalistic kiss.

It was Link’s turn to startle with surprise. Sidon held nothing back, moved by Link’s brazen selfishness to take some of his own. He pulled Link closer, tracing a hand up the smooth expanse of his back and feeling him tremble. Link gasped, opening his mouth and allowing them to explore each other more deeply. This kiss did not feel like a goodbye. This kiss was quite clearly the start of something with absolute longevity, Calamity be damned.

“Please say you’ll come back.” Sidon whispered against Link’s mouth.

Link didn’t speak, but he nodded all the same, pulling Sidon back in for a kiss that felt like hope and a promise all wrapped into one.

[scarletdawnxx-blog]

Nightmares: A Bucky Barnes x Reader Story. Chapter 6

Steve loaded the last of your things into the truck you were taking. Stark wanted you to test out a new all electric option, he had decided he wanted to break into the all-electric vehicle game, he didn’t want to be shown up by Elon. Stark was all about going greener nowadays. You hadn’t seen much of Bucky since your date and your heart sank a little. Maybe the feelings weren’t as mutual as you thought. You tried to make it as unnoticeable as possible that you had been looking for him. You couldn’t really think of an excuse to linger any longer.

  “Well, I guess this is goodbye,” Steve said, putting the last bag in.

“Don’t say it like that, I’m only three hours away. You won’t get rid of me that easily.” You replied trying to lighten the mood. You would see them all again. They were your family. Nat smiled and gave you a tight hug. You had already said your goodbyes to everyone else. Tony was trying to play it cool but you could tell it was getting to him. He had treated you like you were one of his own, but you knew with the new Parker kid coming on board he would be just fine. Steve came in and gave you a big, crushing hug next. “Steve I can’t breathe,” you gasped out and he laughed. He kissed the top of your head and let you go. He was the big brother you always wanted, but it wasn’t his arms and laugh you were wishing for at that moment.

  “You let us know when you get there safely,” Steve said in a serious voice. You nodded and looked around the garage one last time. You opened the door to the truck and started to get in. He didn’t come to say goodbye. Your eyes met Steve’s and he gave you a sad smile. He knew who you had been looking for. Letting out a breath you climbed in and pulled away watching Steve and Nat get smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

  After the drive, you finally pulled up to the address you were given and it wasn’t what you were expecting. It was as if someone had dropped a very large English countryside manor in the middle of upstate New York. You made your way up to the front and were met at the door by Jean, you would know her in an instant, her hair was unforgettable.

  “Hello again Y/N” she greeted you with a smile. “The professor is waiting for you in his study.” She said and ushered you inside. The school was beautiful. Warm and inviting, with so much charm and character. You could tell there was a lot of love and happiness in these halls.

  Jean led you to a large office just off the main stairs. The professor was sitting behind his desk looking over papers. He looked up and smiled at the two of you and you cocked your head a little, catching your first glimpse at the Professor's feelings. Relief. It surprised you since even when you had tried to use them on him you were met with nothing. Completely locked out.

  “Y/N, it is so good to see you again. I hope the drive was pleasant,” he said and wheeled himself from behind the desk.

  “Yes, it was peaceful, you have a beautiful home here,” you replied, trying to make polite conversation.

  “Thank you, this has been in my family for generations. Shall I give you the tour?” he asked and ushered you back into the hall. You nodded and followed. “The first floor is offices and classrooms. You’ll find the kitchen at the far back, dormitories are the second and third upper levels as well as common areas. There is a pool, sports courts, and gymnasium around the grounds as well.” The professor went on as you followed him down the halls, he would point out the occasional tidbit here and there. You followed along and listened as he explained the classes offered. It really was a school for gifted kids and not just for their abilities but intelligence as well. You stopped suddenly when an overwhelming sense of grief hit you. You looked around and saw a young girl sitting in a window seat, staring out into the yard she couldn’t be more than ten or eleven. The professor noticed.

“Ah, that’s Rose. She has been with us for about six months now. She hasn’t spoken since coming here.” He explained and you looked from him back to her. What had happened that made her feel that kind of pain.

  “What happened to her?” You asked quietly.

  “Her powers manifested violently. It left her an orphan. She blames herself. I haven’t been able to reach her.” He said sadly. The poor girl. You approached her gently.

  “Hello Rose, my name is Y/N, can I sit with you?” You asked her and she nodded. You sat across from her and looked out the window as well. You looked back to Rose and focused. Her grief and self-loathing were overwhelming, you wanted to cry and scream out from everything she was feeling. How could she stay so silent with all that inside of her? “It wasn’t your fault.” You whispered to her and she looked at you shocked. “I can help if you want.” You offered up to her with a small smile and gave her a small glimpse of what your power could do, letting it just sweep gently over the grief like a balm. You caught a glimpse of the memory that these feelings were attached to. The utter destruction. Not even knowing what she could do she was powerful. “You didn’t know, couldn’t have known, what was happening. I know you miss them and blame yourself, but it wasn’t you.” You told her, taking her hand in yours. You had said something similar to Bucky and your heart grew sadder. “Don’t let this consume you,” you pleaded with her. Her anger was bubbling to the surface. She believed she needed to be punished. That she deserved to live in her own hell forever and that trying to take that away from her would take away her identity.  You wanted to show her a different way. “You know I have a friend who was a lot like you. He was forced to do terrible things, kill people. He didn’t have a choice but he still felt the guilt of everything that he was forced to do. It was eating him alive. He would have terrible nightmares, do you have nightmares?” You asked her and she only gave you a slight nod. “I could help with that. I could make them stop. Make all of it stop. You will always miss them, but it doesn’t have to hurt.” You told her hoping to get through. She began to cry and you scooted and held her close as she cried and cried. You held her and let her cry, you could feel her heart breaking over and over again as the cries echoed through the empty halls. When she had settled back down you pushed the hair from her face and wiped her tears away. “Would you like me to help?” you asked her again and she nodded. You smiled at her and just as quickly those feelings were gone. The grief, the blame, the pain. You took it all from her. She blinked at you and threw her arms around you in a hug. You smiled and hugged her back.

  “Thank you,” she whispered in your ear.

  “Of course, dear one.” You held her until she let go. “Why don’t you go rinse your face with some cool water. It will make you feel better and get a little rest. I’m going to go talk with the professor and get settled in. Find me later and we can go for a walk?” you asked and she nodded and bounded off.

  “You don’t know what you have done for that girl.” The Professor said.

  “Why have you never tried to use your abilities on her?” you asked wondering why he hasn’t helped her past her grief yet.

  “I have tried reaching her through her mind, she was so lost in her grief I wanted to give her time, see if she could come out of it on her own.” He explained.

  “She is a child, did you not think to try harder, to get her into therapy?” you asked annoyed that he let a child live in that grief for six whole months. The professor didn’t have an answer for that and continued on. You huffed but fell into step beside him. He led you to an elevator that began to take you below the main level. When the doors opened you were once again surprised by what you were seeing. An entire underground complex below the manor house. Here everything was bright and high tech and reminded you of the compound.

  “These levels are restricted to the children. Only those who have been deemed X-Men are allowed on this level. We have training rooms, labs, weapons room, and a hanger for the jet.” He explained as you followed him down the hall until you came to a large round door with an X across it. The professor approached and a retinal scanner activated. The doors opened to reveal a massive round room. A large platform jutting into the center. “This is Cerebro, this is how I found you, how I find more like us.” He said and you followed him in. You were in awe of the cavernous room. Metal panels lined the entire thing and a small control panel sat at the end of the walk way that led to the center. “I know this is all new to you and a lot to take in. It has always been my wish to help those who feel lost and different. Not everyone can always be helped.”  He said sadly and you knew there was more there to dive into but now wasn’t the time. “I hope that you can find the answers you are looking for here, and perhaps help us, as you helped Rose.” You followed him back out of the room and he led you to a lab where you were greeted with a very large blue, something. “This is Doctor Hank McCoy.” The professor introduced and he extended his hand which engulfed your own.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He responded and you smiled and nodded.

“You as well. What are you a doctor of?” you asked, looking around the lab. The doctor was full of curiosity and it made you feel a little like a lab rat.

  “Biochemistry and genetics, I also teach science and mathematics.” He explained. So, he was a super genius. Were all mutants this highly intelligent? You nodded and wrapped your arms around yourself, a habit that made you feel a little more protected from the outside world. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to run some tests on you, when you are ready of course.” Hank continued.

“What kind of tests and why do you need to run them?” you asked, trying not to sound fearful.

  “To get a grasp on the extent of your mutation to better help you and us to understand it and to learn how to harness it.” Hank said with a reassuring smile.

  “Hank has been invaluable in unlocking the secrets to mutation and helping all of us understand ourselves better. It doesn’t have to be right away. Get settled in, take some time, and Hank will be here when you are ready.” The Professor offered.

  “It has already been a long morning. If I could settle in a little, I would love to have a conversation with you Dr. McCoy, this is all just very new and a little overwhelming if I’m honest.” You offered up. It had been a long morning already. You had been on the road by eight in the morning and that was after loading the truck and saying goodbyes.

  “Of course, I will show you to your room Y/N” The professor said and you followed him from the lab. He took you to the third floor from the main level. This was where most of the instructors and so-called X-Men had rooms. Someone had already brought all your things in and your life was just a stack of boxes and bags in an unfamiliar room and all of a sudden the change really set in and a melancholy set into your chest. The professor excused himself and you shut the door finally alone. You sat on the edge of the bed and put your head in your hands, the emotions overwhelming you. Right now, your friends and life seemed a world away and not just a few hours. You pulled your phone out and saw messages from Steve and Nat. Steve as always was encouraging and Nat sent pictures of Tony after he had an experiment literally blow up in his face and singed half an eyebrow off. You laughed sadly at the image. You missed them all so much already.

[nemycchi]

Delusion

A Childe X Lumine Fanfiction

Rating : Not Rated

Tags : Psychological, Mild Angst, Character Death

----

During moments of utter silence, Childe recalls that which Lumine once told him about a book she had read from a far away land. 

"It is of utmost importance that those who seek to fight monsters must not become one in the process." 

He likes to think that perhaps, by mentioning it, she had once hoped that he would be reminded of his main aspiration—to conquer the world that is, and not to simply bathe in the blood of his enemies. 

It has its merits, he admits—for he finds himself fighting alongside her during the turning point of the war, the darkness in him dampened by the white light she emits—cleansing the corruption that has resided in him for the longest time. 

This too though, reminds him of another of her words. 

"The deep dark abyss—stare for too long and it would stare back to those who dare." 

It is true, for he knows that ever since he dropped down that hole in the world, he emerged as a monster that is only tamed by bloodshed. 

And from the moment he knew Lumine, perhaps by her as well. 

He has always carried a portion of that so-called abyss, feeling its vines wrapping inside his very being. He is a monster, that much is true, but tamed as one can be, he became a tool under her commands. 

He does not care, for it is times with her when the whispers of the dark become muted—turned into nothing but echoes of the past. 

"Childe? Breakfast?" 

The man spies her slender form by the doorframe of his bedroom, sees her domestically ushering his sleepy person into the kitchen and he feels as though he had achieved that which he desires, with her by his side. 

To conquer the world. 

They did. They won. And it was all that he could ask for. 

Celestia is no more. The abyss is no more. It is just him, Lumine and the rest of the world. 

He smiles as he sits down at the table, reaching for her hand as she places the bowl of steaming Calla Lily Seafood Soup before him. 

"Oh, my favorite. What's the occasion, girlie?"

"Mhm, nothing in particular. Just wanted to cook something special for you." she smiles back and he thinks he saw the glimmer of stars beyond her eyes. 

Or perhaps it was nothing but an illusion, masking the deeper end of the void he is familiar with—if such end even existed. 

Childe shakes his head for he believes that that is not the case. Lumine is here with him. And the abyss is no more. It is no more. 

And if the calling of that dark bud inside him grows too strong anyhow, he knows she is here to defeat it for him. 

For she is also perhaps a monster in her own rights. 

 

--☆☆☆--

 

The bags under his eyes, and the haunted looks in his face tell everyone that he is far from recovered but everytime someone comes to ask him how he is faring, he will do nothing but face them with a smile before answering. 

"I'm very much fine! Lumine takes good care of me." 

If there were curious glances sent his way, he does not care. They must be seething inside—jealous that it was him who conquered her heart by the end of it all. 

The savior and the reformed harbinger.

What a perfect love story—great as a tale to pass down from generations to generations. He sighs at the thought. 

"Childe, pardon my query but I must ask—how have you truly been?" 

He already lost count of how many times the same question had been asked of him. 

He stops walking—to face the former Geo Archon a few steps behind. 

"I do not understand why everyone keeps on asking the same question. I already told you i'm fine, didn't I?" 

Oh how he hates it when they ask—as if they were doubting his princess' ability to care for him, for it was her who has been on his bed, in his kitchen, in his very house ever since the world achieved true peace. 

They do not understand just how capable Lumine is. 

And they will never know, if he has anything to say. 

"Though we are but friends, I must express my deep concern. The dips on your cheeks beg to differ from that which you uttered." 

The blue in his eyes shift into something malicious, to that belonging to the beast he keeps inside. 

"With all due respect, Mr. Zhongli. I do not appreciate the implications of what you just said. You asked and I answered." He pauses. 

The abyss is no more for Lumine is with him. 

"I shall be going now. My wife is waiting for me at home." 

As he walks away, he ignores the burning gaze on his back. It's fine. That former god does not matter. 

What matters is him and Lumine while the rest of the world could go crash and burn, he thinks. 

 

--☆☆☆--

 

"Tough day at work?" 

Childe sidles up to her side, wrapping an arm around the apron-covered waist of his beloved. He kisses her temple with reverence—for it is what she deserves. 

"Not really. It was just Mr. Zhongli. And others. Being annoyingly repetitive as always." He grumbles, tucking her head under his chin. 

The small hand resting atop his chest tightens against his clothes. 

"Do they... not approve of me?" She asks almost inaudibly. 

He was quick to deny the preposterous thought. 

"Don't listen to them. They do not matter, girlie." 

Childe feels her shift and he looks down at her. 

Golden pools decorated by the glittering of stars—of tears, he realizes, meet his abyssal depths. 

"Are you... are you going to leave me?" 

He brushes the hair out of her forehead and tucks the strays behind her ears before promptly brushing away the tears that cascaded from her eyes. 

"Never. You are mine, Lumine. As much as I am yours." 

Even the sweetest wine cannot compare to the smile that adorns her face after his declaration. She buries her head on his chest once more, arms crossing behind him, bestowing him with nothing else but warmth. 

Childe thinks for a second, that this moment is perhaps the best there is in the world. And he knows he is ruined for anything else.

It is impossible to feel anything akin to this feeling and he strongly believes that the desire to even experience it from others aside his princess does not exist anymore. 

 

--☆☆☆--

 

The sound of deliberate knocking at the door rouses the harbinger from his sleep. Childe growls in annoyance at whoever is behind that piece of wood as he untangles his limbs from the goddess laying beside him. 

He kisses the top of her head before deciding to rise and check who their visitor is. 

He stills when the one in front of his humble abode makes himself known. 

Zhongli, of course. 

"Mr. Zhongli, why the early visit?" 

The man only hums before crossing his arms, pinning him with a serious gaze. 

"May I come in, Childe?"

"Ah, of course." 

He lets him in and ushers the former archon to the couch. Upon sitting, the latter immediately scans his surroundings with vague concern in his eyes. 

"I must say, your house is surprisingly empty and devoid of life, Childe."

"What do you mean? I think it's pretty homey. Lumine designed it by herself when she first got here." 

A frown makes its way to the other man's lips. 

"Childe, can we talk?" 

He stiffens, tone changing into a defensive one. 

"We are talking, are we not?" He spats.

"Why don't you ask Lumine to come down here with us?" 

He summons one of his water blades. 

"Why exactly are you here, Zhongli?"

"Call Lumine, Childe." 

In a flash, the water blade comes in contact with the polearm that materialized in front of the visitor. 

"Why. Are. You. Here?" He asks, hostile in every way as he accents each word with a swing of his blade—all thankfully parried. 

"I need you to understand, Childe." Zhongli calls forth a jade shield that rattled even the sturdy walls of the other man's home. 

A water spear slams against the shield. 

"That Lumine..." 

Yet another side step, perfectly timed to avoid the beast cloaked in water suddenly crackling with electricity. 

"Stop it!" It yells. 

But Zhongli is not known for being gentle. The wrath of the rock and the harsh truth—both must be laid out for him to save the monster disguised as a man. 

"Is no longer with us." 

A beat passes.

"She's gone, Childe. And you must accept that fact."

"No!" 

And like that, the man surges forward with the fury enough to fuel wars. 

The walls crumble and the terrified shrieks of townsfolk in the immediate vicinity sound off but Childe could no longer care. 

Him and Lumine. The rest of the world does not matter. 

His mind goes blank with nothing but white hot anger, and he brandishes his weapon with renewed vigor. 

"Take it back." He quietly demands, voice distorted. 

Instead of complying, multiple stone steles rise up from the pavement, obscuring the two men from prying eyes. 

"Everyone grieves for her departure, I assure you. We are hurt as much as you are." A water blade makes contact with the archon's cheek and he winces as response, "but she chose to sacrifice herself for this world's peace and she will not be happy if she sees you rotting away to your demise, Childe."

"You—you don't know anything! Do not lie! Lumine..." A crack in his composition and Zhongli is quick to take advantage of it. 

All at once, like a puppet with strings cut off, Childe falls forward when Zhongli's polearm strikes down his chest. The accumulated hunger and fatigue from weeks of barely holding on to her memory suddenly come crashing down upon his person. 

Empty plates and sweet nothings. 

Cold bed and pristine kitchen. 

Unused scarf with the color of the skies and the clouds—like the view he's witnessing right now. 

Stare into the abyss, and it stares back at you—its remnants staying within, slowly consuming that which it latches on to. 

The abyss is no more—or so he believes. 

"Lumine... she promised me." he whispers into the wind. 

The rustling of cloth distracts him from his thoughts. 

"Do not lean too close to that edge, Childe. I beg you, not as your friend, but as Lumine's—please, do stay with us." 

Before his eyes closed, he heard the call from the deep dark abyss of the waters. 

The sea is calm. And he couldn't care less about the rest of the world. 

Him and Lumine, he thinks. Him and Lumine.

[missdreamsalot]

The Queen’s Guard- CH. 3: City of Angels

A/N: I would first love to thank @lordofhorizons for helping me with this chapter and tolerating my craziness! Love you! <3

And a huge thanks to my amazing readers who continue to motivate me!

Happy reading~ *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

Book: The Royal Romance

Main Pairings: Leo x OC, Liam x OC

Future Pairings: Maxwell x OC, Bastien x OC, Drake x Olivia x OC

Summary: A rotten apple in the family threatens their lives and there is only one way to get rid of bad blood. 

Masterlist

Series Warnings: Violence, Language, Sexual Content, Angst, Dark Situations, Character Death

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of The Royal Romance, or Rules of Engagement; they belong to Pixelberry. I only own my OC’s.

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed:

Tags List: @riseandshinelittleblossom, @hopefulmoonobject, @lordofhorizons​, @gkittylove99,@kingliam2019, @amandablink, @cordonianroyalty, @cordonianprincess, @marshmallowsaremyfavorite

Ch. 3: City of Angels

“What exactly will happen when this is through?”

Liam peeked over his shoulder. Madeleine was standing behind him, arms crossed rigidly, as he shuffled the papers on his desk. After settling them into neatly placed stack, he faced her while placing his phone in his coat pocket and leaning back against his desk. He had just told her about Tariq and Los Angeles, and the certainty of seeing Elle once again.

Honestly, he didn’t know what was going to happen when the scandal was cleared or how things would go with Elle.

“I need a reply, Liam.” she demanded. “If my position as Queen is at risk, I need to know.” She pushed firmly.

“My intention was to merely confront Tariq to clear Elle’s name. I wasn’t expecting Val-”

“Val? That punk-looking woman?” Madeleine inquired sternly. “You two certainly have a thing for peculiar women. Trashy at that.”

Liam’s eyebrows furrowed in anger. “You want to know the truth? Yes, your position as Queen is hanging on a thread. I am going to L.A to remedy the chaos my father created and win back the woman I adore with all my heart.”

Hurt unmistakably crossed her face as he continued. “And if she will accept me back into her life, I will, without hesitation, make her the queen she was meant to be.”

Madeleine smoothed out the sides of her dress as she collected herself. “Well then. That’s all I needed to hear.” With her chin held high, she closed the space between them. Her slender fingers wrapped around his tie and tugged him forward, forcing him to stare down at her.  “Good luck on your trip, but I hope you come to understand what’s truly best for this country....” Pristine nails glided up his neck and as she cupped his cheek, she pressed her red-stained lips against his. He only waited until she pulled away. “…Me.” she affirmed with usual poise.

Satisfied with having the last word, she turned and exited the room, but not before bumping into Drake who suddenly appeared at the doorway.

“Oh, uhh, sorry.” He sidestepped out of her way, allowing her to pass. She said nothing as she moved on. “Always a charm to be around…” he muttered sarcastically.  “Ready to go, Liam? Everyone’s waiting out front.”

Liam sighed heavily at having just dealt with Madeleine. “I’m ready.” And to be gone for as long as possible.

Two days have passed since his discharge from the hospital. He felt mostly well, but the aches and pains returned with a vengeance every so often. Regina insisted that he give himself at least a week to recover, but Liam didn’t want to delay his departure any longer. He was eager to get to L.A and see Elle again.

However, he was overburdened with the situation of the bombing. Everyone wanted answers, but he couldn’t give them. The only link that they had was slaughtered by a 100lb direwolf, according to Bastien. Several questions remained about the group she affiliated with and how she escaped her cell. The cameras had been hacked into and disabled and, following that, the two guards keeping a look out were also killed.

In addition, there was no further word from Val.

Once Liam and his group made into the jet that was arranged for them, he took a seat across from Leo.

“Anything?” he asked his older brother, who stared solemnly out the window.

“No.” Leo pressed the balls of his hands into his eyes. “Christ, she drives me insane!” he exasperated. “She is so careless and selfish. Then she goes and disappears without saying anything!”

“Sounds like you’re talking about yourself, Leo.” Drake interjected, which was followed by a glare from the rebellious ex-prince. Those two always seemed to have it out for each other, but Liam couldn’t deny the truth in Drake’s words.

He added amusedly, “Perhaps this is karma? The world has finally caught with you.”

Leo groaned. “This woman…”

“Guess who has the bubbly!” Maxwell burst into the cabin happily. “Pre-celebration for clearing Elle’s name.”

“We shouldn’t get our hopes up.” Drake said, “There are half a dozen places we have to eliminate and who knows if Tariq hasn’t already up and left.”

“Pre-celebration for reuniting with Elle!”

“I don’t think I feel up to it. Sorry, Maxwell.” Liam stated softly. Dejected, Maxwell turned away with a slump in his shoulders.

“Oh, what the hell. Give it here, buddy!” Leo reached forward and Maxwell cheerfully obliged, handing him a glass.

“Valentina apparently had a run in with our father. Under what circumstances, I’m unsure.” Liam stated calmly as Leo chugged down the champagne.

Leo stayed silent, staring down at the empty glass. “I always had my suspicions. I just didn’t want to believe father would go that far… but if he was willing to ruin Elle’s reputation, it wouldn’t surprise me if he said or did something that forced Val to cut things off.”

He chortled half-heartedly. “I feel kind of stupid. She knew who I was, I don’t know for how long or why she never said anything… I would steer clear of the details if she asked and all this time she knew. I just don’t understand why she didn’t just tell me what was going on?” He paused thoughtfully. “I don’t know how I feel about all this…”

“There must be more to it.” Liam reckoned, in an attempt to ease Leo, but it only seemed to irritate him.

His brother gave an audible tsk. “Yeah, her job. That was always her excuse. Spy, hitwoman, whatever she is…Now, I could care less.” He stood up sharply.

“Leo-”

“I could use another drink or two.” Liam looked after his brother worriedly as he walked to the back of the jet’s luxurious cabin. He understood why Leo felt so frustrated with Val. He just hoped he didn’t do anything stupid.    

The rest of the flight passed on uneventfully, three men brooding about the current happenings while Maxwell was seemingly optimistic about well…everything. They arrived in Los Angeles early afternoon the next day, and after settling into their rooms for a bit they reconvened in Liam’s suite.

Everyone, except for Leo.

“Is this really a surprise?”  Drake said, combing a hand through his visibly damp hair.

Maxwell eyes lit up excitedly. “OooOooh, I saw him walking out of the hotel with a smoking hot babe in his arm.”

Liam berated his older brother internally. Dammit, Leo. He was definitely doing something stupid.

><><><><><><><><

Leo entered the building that pulsed with pounding drums and lively shrills from electric guitars. Lights of vibrant colors twirled over the dancing crowd whose excited feet quaked the floor.

“C’mon!” The busty blonde pulled him towards the bar with an enthusiastic laugh. “How lucky am I to have snagged a prince?!”

“Ha.” He clenched his teeth. ‘Probably not your best idea; going out with a zealous fan…’ But he was aching for a night out and needed to get his mind off a certain someone, and ironically, here he was thinking about not thinking about her.

As the band ended the last remnants of their song darkness consumed them until the room glimmered back to life. 

Turning back to the bar, he froze in place. 

‘Just how much damn smaller could this world be?’

From the looks of it, Val must’ve been in the dancing mob near the stage. With tousled hair and a visible sheen of dampness along her face, she was speaking to another woman near the bar. The blonde didn’t look happy while Val, who appeared laid-back, played off what her friend had said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Val’s gaze glided along the crowd, half listening to her. Until finally, she met his. The piercing kick of an electric guitar cut through the air as the band sparked back to life.

“Here’s your drink, handsome!” His date flashed the cocktail in his face. Breaking away from the surprised look on Val’s face, he refocused his attention on cute Andrea.

“Just what I needed.” He grinned roguishly. “Thanks, beautiful.” His fingers tangled in the back of her hair and he leaned in, capturing her luscious lips. Was he being petty? Undeniably so, and Leo wasn’t afraid of putting on a show.

She moaned as he kissed her deeply and their lips moved sensually against each other. He opened his eyes and allowed his teeth to scrape her bottom lip as Val watched.

A shadow fell over her face, eyes darkening dangerously. Val turned away and reached behind the bar, dragging out her classic black leather jacket. He caught sight of something twinkle underneath the lights but she was quick to hide it away. The bartender acknowledged her with a grin. “Have fun!” He shouted.

Val only responded with a thumbs up and took the stairs to the second floor, her companion following behind.

“Let’s rock out, Leo!” Andrea draped her arms around him, insistently guiding him toward the jumping crowd.

“Whoa!” He took the opportunity to purposely spill his drink. Andrea shrieked, leaping away from the liquid. 

“Why you don’t go ahead? I’m going to go grab another one. I need to be able to keep up with you.” He winked. Captivated, she nodded obediently and got lost in the sea of dancers.

Leo traced Val’s steps up to the next level and caught her going through a door at the end of the hall as he reached the top. He maneuvered his way through the swaying bodies, eventually coming face to face with it. On the front it read: ROOF ACCESS. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

He sauntered through without hesitation and up the next set of stairs carefully. The brick cobbled walls braced a steel door at the upper end. It was slightly ajar, tendrils of moonlight and a stream of words seeping its way in.

“…isn’t going to bode well for anyone…for Danielle especially, and she is in no condition to fret.”

Leo peered through the crack. Both women had their back to him. They were speaking to a middle-aged man with spectacles.

“Why are do you feel so inclined to know?” he asked Val.

Leo couldn’t make out Val’s next words as they flowed in a soft, delicate whisper.

The man’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Valentina. I truly am. All I can say now is to go to your father.”

Val responded. “He’s no help. He practically begged me to never bring it up again, or anything related to their deaths.”

His lips pursed, then he sighed. “There is a distressing reason behind that.”

“Will you tell me?”

“I’m in no position to, but…” A passing breeze concealed his next words, and Leo unconsciously leaned forward causing the door to groan against his weight.

Before Leo knew it, there was a sudden flash of silver and a metallic clang from behind him. The blonde had, without warning or hesitation thrown a fine narrow dagger in his direction. Assuming they were professionals, Leo surmised that it was a warning shot. She seemed more than capable of hitting her target; aka his head.

He pushed the door open with his foot, revealing himself with hands up in surrender. He stared intently at the trio, his eyes eventually resting on Val. Her eyes tore through him with a coldness he never saw before, causing more damage than any other blade could.

The man addressed Val, “Another contact of yours?”

“No. I don’t know who that man is.” Val deadpanned. The blonde began to reach under her coat, but she intervened quickly. “Zinnia, I’ll take care of him.”

“I suppose we’re finished here then?”

“Yes, Thompson. Thank you.” Val bid him farewell.

Thompson passed him with a friendly grin. “Good luck.” He muttered under his breath. Zinnia said nothing but gave him a passing glance as she went back inside.

As soon as the door closed, Leo heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cock.

“Are you serious?” His eyebrows furrowed irritably.

Val took aim and fired… the concrete by his foot split and was left dented by the bullet. She gave a cunning tilt of her head.

“I’m really tired, Leo, and I don’t think I have the patience to deal with you right now, especially after your little stunt in there…” Val said, pointing the smoking pistol at him.

Standing his ground, Leo examined her. Rigid yet calm, her eyes, though blazing with ferocity, also carried a sadness with them. He noticed the dark circles settled underneath and if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d lost a bit of weight.

“I’m sorry, okay? But could you blame me for being angry? You left without a damn word.”

She sighed, “I meant to get back to you but I’ve been busy with-”

“Your job?” Leo spat. “It takes just a minute to send a message saying-I don’t know- anything, Telling me that you’re okay?!”

She withdrew her weapon as if the weight was too much to bear. “I don’t have time for this.” Her steps were quick as she attempted to make her way past him, but he blocked her path.

“Please, just talk to me!”

Val gazed somberly at the ground. It was clear that something was bothering her. He was conflicted with whether or not he should push the matter, but he was tired of being left in the dark.

His words were soft. “Help me understand. I don’t want to feel this way towards you, but you’re not giving me much options.” He gently took her arms in an approach to comfort her, but she remained motionless.

When he felt her tremor in his hands, she swiftly clasped his wrist. He observed her with concern. Whatever that was, it wasn’t from the cold. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head as her eyes welled up with tears. “I have to go.” She choked. Allowing her to remove his hands, he stepped aside. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

And Val was gone, leaving him with more unanswered questions and a hollow feeling in his chest.

The rest of the night seemed to move in a haze. He found his way back to the bar, had a couple more drinks, and eventually reunited with Andrea. He indulged her with lustful words and sweet caresses, driving that pitiful cloud above his head away for the night.

Stumbling contentedly into her apartment, clothes found their way to the floor as he lavished her with eager kisses and tantalizing bites. He grasped the heated flesh of her thighs wrapped around him, pressing their bodies firmly together in a tangled mess.

Walking to her bedroom, Leo tripped suddenly, losing his balance. Andrea squealed as she collapsed on the soft, plush carpeting with him on top and they erupted in a fit of drunken laughter.

She pushed him onto his back, climbing over his chiseled body. Her fingers raked down his chest while her lips discovered the tender skin of his neck. He groaned, shutting his eyes.

When he opened them again, Val swam in his vision. “Val…” he sighed longingly.

She smirked, arching her back seductively. “I’m going to take great care of you tonight.” Her hips shifted and he grabbed them tightly as she began to move enticingly against him.

His head fell back as the feel of her enraptured him and he lost himself in the warmth of her touch…

><><><><><><><><

*Knock* Knock* Knock*

Liam stepped away from the door, glancing back at the address Val had given him. He seemed to be in the right place. The apartment complex was well-built and stood strongly despite its vintage-styled architecture. The fourth-floor walls were adorned with antique light fixtures and historical portraits against white panel walls. He recognized the painting closest to him as Rene Magritte’s ‘The Lovers’. The couple in the photo had their faces covered in cloth; a scene that held more significance more than he realized. 

He heard sudden movement in the inside and his anxiousness increased. Was it a mistake being here? Should he come back later? It was a bit selfish to assume she was available, but when would it be the best time? 

He exhaled heavily. 

The elevator dinged down the hall and as the doors opened, a woman’s laughter spilled free. The melody propelled him to turn as it ignited his heart and the feeling only intensified when the sight of Elle invaded his mind.

She stepped out, smiling brightly up at a man who followed behind her, carrying a bag of groceries.

She stopped short upon seeing him, her green eyes widening in disbelief and face becoming considerably pale “Liam?” His name fell breathlessly from her pink lips.

However, his attention was fixed on a part of her that bulged out considerably; round and swollen. 

That could only mean one thing: she was pregnant.

[cancolighting]

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LED circle hanging light has substantial application in architectural building, many engineers or designers have not nearly enough expertise on exactly how to choose a proper circle hanging lights, so we publish this short article try to clarify difference on various material circle hanging lights, if can help a lot more buddies recognize even more concerning these lights, that is excellent!

1. Kinds of circle hanging light

In addition to economic situation advancement, individuals has higher demand on attractive illumination, it push developer or producer message more research on brand-new lighting technology.

Circle hanging light is one sort of led lights which primarily made use of in residence, workplace or public civic area, it can extend to various shape, such as round, arc, direct, these benefit leads to circle hanging light has broad application in modern-day structures.

From product different, circle dangling light can be assorted into:</h1>

Iron Housing circle hanging light

Stainless Housing Circle hanging light

Aluminum Housing Circle Hanging light

These 3 types product are main key ins market, in some special projects, perhaps can utilize copper or wood product, however there are few, so we just speak about many usual ones below.

2. What is benefit and downside on these 3 kind circle hanging light?

2.1 For Iron housing:

Benefit: Cheap material cost, can purchase basic material anywhere, so the ended up items price are cheap than stainless steel or aluminum housing material.

Drawback:

Easy obtain rust, might be somebody stated it can be powder covered, however after 1-2 yeas made use of in wet atmosphere, iron Housing hanging circle light also very easy to obtain rust

Secondly, Since iron Housing light is with slim iron plate, so LED PCB can not locked on the top of iron Housing, if locked by screw, completion of screw can be seen at the back of iron housing, might be cut skin when installment, screw is additionally easy to obtain rust.

Finally, for iron housing hanging led ring light, if size more than 1200mm (5'), iron Housing is no very easy to connect, very easy to lead light leak.

2.2 For stainless Steel housing:

Advantage: One of the most advantage of stainless steel is electric plating completed shades, they can be supply mirror chrome color, climbed golden shade, silver color, sparkling wine gold color, bronze color, pure gold color, looks vibrant as well as elegant style make life powerful.

Downside:

Like iron Housing circle hanging light, when diameter more than 1200mm (5'), is no easy to connect, extremely easy to lead light leakage.

Like iron housing circle hanging light, LED PCB can not lock on the top of iron Housing, the only remedy is use led strip light to stick inside of Housing, as well as this way looks not specialist on innovation.

2.3 For Light weight aluminum Housing:

Advantage:

Contrast to iron housing and stainless-steel housing; squeezed out light weight aluminum is thicker, so LED PCB can be locked within light weight aluminum plate, this make whole circle hanging light higher criterion;

Light weight aluminum Housing can be flexing in various angle or arc shape, end customers can personalized any kind of form they want to make a distinct interior space.

For diameter more than 1200mm (5'), extruded aluminum can create a portable structure for port system, challenging to lead light leakage, this is the powerful support on various projects, like some public room, they need to hang a circle hanging light at height 5m or 10m, the only choice is use light weight aluminum housing.

Downside:

Light weight aluminum housing dangling led ring light, need to develop as well as make extruded light weight aluminum mould, it need about 15 days and some expense, so producers have to prepare some common size squeezed out light weight aluminum awaiting different jobs demand, however if any kind of task, they have unique going across size demand, they require to rework on extruded mould once more, lose time and money.

Light weight aluminum Housing dangling led ring light, the 2nd disadvantage is surface area color, it can just support powder coated and also extremely few electrical plating shades, like brush gold color, if want to make mirror chrome color or mirror golden color, stainless-steel material is the best option.

3.7 pointers assist you to select proper circle hanging light

3.1 If you intend to purchase an economical circle hanging light, iron Housing is your best option.

3.2 If you want to purchase a vibrant circle hanging light for your dining-room, stainless steel product is first suggest, gorgeous and rate is on middle degree.

3.3 If you intend to buy a classy circle hanging light for your office, squeezed out light weight aluminum housing is your best selection.

3.4 If you are a project business or engineer, when you make building lights for a huge building, extruded aluminum housing hanging led ring light is your finest option, you can discover a good supplier from China as well as personalize specific dimension you need for your job.

3.5 If you have greater clever innovation demand, like WI-FI, DALI, Mobile control system, after that extruded aluminum housing is your perfect choice.

3.6 If you have demand on recessed or surface area mounted need on hanging circle light, squeezed out light weight aluminum housing is your optimal choice.

3.7 If you are seeking a long run hanging circle light, squeezed out aluminum Housing is your excellent selection.

4. Lights resource in circle hanging light

There are some sorts of illumination resource in different circle hanging light:</h2>

4.1 The most common one is LED PCB with PC diffuser, this framework can provide 70-100lm/ watt, based upon different illumination design

4.2 The 2nd one is LED strip light inside with PC diffuser; this structure can provide 50-80lm/ watt, based on different strip light result system.

4.3 The third one is spot light with lens, this framework generally utilized in Magnetic circle hanging light system; it is brand-new style from year 2020.

Which lights source is better? From viewpoint of Canco, we select first one, LED PCB with PC diffuser, the system outcome of Canco hanging circle light is about 76lm-86lm/ W currently, greater system result upcoming.

5. Lighting layout trend on big circle hanging light

5.1 Use much better connector system, just how to far better link each areas is always a huge inquiry on circle hanging light makers, as an example diameter 2.4 m ring light, several of them consider use much better port system, that is a large step to improve lighting installment, in Canco light, we likewise develop a brand-new port man and female connector system for large circle hanging light, you can visit this site to see in-depth remedy.

5.2 Lighting technology altering promptly in China, for circle hanging light, the latest style from year 2020 is Magnetic circle hanging system, use extruded aluminum, inside with conductive copper strip, use flexing equipment bend aluminum in circle form, after that deal with modular lighting components, end consumers can choose lights resource as their dream, can pick flooding light variation, arc area light version or hanging light version, imaginative a new lighting ornamental interior, see below photo for a referral:

6. Some very advise circle hanging light providers in the world.

LED LINEAR, GERMANY, WEB: https://www.led-linear.com/

OCCIHIO, GERMANY, INTERNET: https://www.occhio.de/

OCL ILLUMINATION, USA, INTERNET: https://ocl.com/

FLUXWERX, CANADA, INTERNET: https://fluxwerx.com/

SATTLER LIGHTS, GERMANY, INTERNET: https://www.sattler-lighting.com/

CANCO LIGHTS, CHINA, WEB: https://www.canco.com

The reason that we placed Canco Lighting right here is Canco constantly maintain buy just how to make a higher quality circle hanging lights for clients, we are not big company, yet we do much better high quality compare to many large business, one essential advantage on lighting is much better than many common lights companies.

[consilium-games]

Setting, Genre, and Principles

I talked recently with a friend about Apocalypse World, genre, and Principles. For those unfamiliar, Principles are a design and game-running technique that Apocalypse World did not invent, but did refine and explicate, a bit like how the Greeks knew of static electricity, but it was Galvani who made a battery on purpose, that others could study. Since I haven't died yet, I have a project in mind, in this case one that really explicitly relies on Principles in its basic design, so in this essay I want to work out a basic edge of 'what Principles can cover'. Namely, the edge of 'genre'.

I'll define a couple technical terms here because I intend to use them pretty narrowly:

Diagetic means the usual, "bound within the world of a given story".

Commentative means "outside of any story, things we say about stories-generally".

So a setting counts as diagetic, bound within its own logic and the logic of the single work it appears in. Diagetically we'd ask "why does the author choose to write dragons in this way?"

A genre counts as commentative, not bound within any story. It may or may not codify some stories, an author might consciously bend to or defy a genre as they understand it, but most importantly on the genre level, we don't ask "why did the author write dragons like this?" Instead we ask "why do people-generally like to see dragons?"

In talking with that friend, she said she had difficulty reading AW, which I can't really fault anyone for: I'd consider AW almost as much a polemic manifesto as a procedural manual. And the former undermines the latter. Part of her issue came from her looking for a setting, not realizing that properly speaking, AW doesn't have one. I said as much, and as we talked, I then said a lot more than I should:

After confirming that "Baker does not give AW a setting", in a bit of enthusiasm on the idea of 'genre emulation', I went on to say that "Baker gives his apocalypse". This prompted confusion, for the reasonable question arises, "how can Baker provide his own, particular, post-apocalypse story without giving a setting?" So I should have spoken more carefully, and I wrote most of this essay to over-answer that question for my friend. I've massaged it into its current form, for you non-her readers, in hopes that it helps someone, or if nothing else I can refer back to it as I clarify my own cranky lit-game-dev ideas.

To me, 'a setting' goes like this:

DnD has a kind of proto-setting, it has dragons like-so, it has elves who look pretty and live in the woods, it has dwarves who look TV-ugly and live in the mountains, it has orcs who look ugly-ugly and live in the wastes, it has humans it treats as default and live wherever. It has vague gestures of settler-colonial race-relations but not enough anything to explore, unless you the reader put it there. DnD doesn't really have much of a genre more specific than "uh, generally sword-and-sorcery fantasy".

Shadowrun has basically the same things, and a specific setting: neoliberal dystopia and collapse of the state, but otherwise 'basically our world'.

But more than that, Shadowrun also--for its many faults--has a commentative-sense genre: in Shadowrun, might makes right (or at least right-now); money rules everything, except maybe loyalty; it treats magic as innately cool and natural but technology as evil and you maybe would better die than get an artificial heart. These story-contours don't care at all about where things happen or what institutions exist.

To take another example, Cowboy Bebop tells a solid noir western story set in space. The fact that it takes place in space ultimately matters very little to the 'western' or 'noir', though. Spike knows he lives in space, and he'd agree that--to someone alive in our world today--he lives in a sci-fi story. He doesn't know that he got cast as a western-revenge-fable protagonist (though he might agree if someone asked). He definitely doesn't know that he has a corner of the story that goes more-western, while Jet lives in a corner of the story that goes more-noir.

If you wanted, you could tell Cowboy Bebop beat for beat, almost unedited, as a straight-faced noir western. Instead of Jet's main ship they have a wagon, the individual bounty-hunters have their own horses, Ed does something weird with telegraphs and adding-machines. Instead of vacuum between planets of our solar system, they weather the desert waste between far-flung towns. It would remain a story about revenge, losing oneself, finding oneself, remaking oneself, and the things we have to do for the people we love, and what happens when we don't.

You could not do this and also remove the noir, or the western, those define the kind-of-story. If you left it in space but took out the noir, entire episodes of moral ambiguity would disappear (like Ganymede Elegy). Likewise taking out the western, the premise of bounty-hunters wouldn't fit and couldn't stay. I would even go further, and say that while I don't mind Cowboy Bebop sitting on the 'sci-fi' shelf so that consumers can find it, I wouldn't class Cowboy Bebop as sci-fi. A masterpiece, but not sci-fi. Because I think that as a genre, the core of sci-fi asks "where are we going, and what will we do when we get there?" Cowboy Bebop does not care to ask this question, it cares about the human condition right now, and what people right now will do. It takes place in space because space is cool.

Second hot take: Kafka's The Castle counts as sci-fi, by the above conception. Extremely, disturbingly prescient sci-fi, precisely predicting things from call-centers to Big Data and the professional managerial class, and warning of the ease with which a competent, level-headed, and well-meaning person can confront The Machine, and The Machine will completely hollow out and dehumanize them, rob them of every competence and agency, until The Machine no longer notices them as a foreign object.

No one would put The Castle on the sci-fi shelf, because it has no shiny labcoat SCIENCE![tm], telephones and typewriters show up as cutting-edge in the setting. But just look at the concept of tracking, monitoring, filing, and refiling, and bureaucratic shuffle and managerial maladaption and "not my department" and "oh you have to fill out a form 204B -> well file a form AV-8 to requisition a 204B -> look do I have to do everything for you, I'm a busy cog you know". Look at that concept as a technology, like Kafka did.

The story explicitly refers to this as innovation, as a deliberate thing that the Count and his bureaucrats did, on purpose, with intent and expected effect. The Castle explores social science, political technology. And Kafka rigorously explores its psychic effects on the subjects, more thoroughly than Gibson waxing poetic about VR headsets and the Matrix. The Castle qualifies as fiction about science, where we're going and what we'll (have to) do when we get there. It takes place in a quaint provincial village that might lie somewhere in Bohemia in the very early 20th century.

So I allege that while setting matters for writing a given story, it doesn't matter a lot for kind-of story. And in my conversation with my friend, I should have sensed the kernel I could have dug out, but instead, I wrote the rest of this essay, particular to post-apocalyptic genre fiction, and germane to Apocalypse World.

Bringing this back to apocalypsii:

In the Australian outback in the late-70s, the gas supply all but disappears, causing societal collapse and civil breakdown.

In the American midwest, an unspecified disaster wipes out communications and supply-lines, causing survivors to turn feral and cannibalistic.

In New York in the late 60s, food shortages and overpopulation cause the government to criminalize almost everything so that they can grind people up into food.

These are settings in the sense that I mean: a place, a time, implicit societal structures and institutions, "where is this, what world is this, what is here?" DnD's setting doesn't have much of a 'where' but it more or less assumes "uh, Earth kinda, sorta"; Shadowrun says "literally Earth but N years after magic becomes real and also DnD races". But the above three post-apoc settings have very different everything-else: if you were making a post-apoc section of a library and wanted to break down into sub-genre, you'd want to put the three works above on different aisles.

Mad Max tells a story where holding on to old power structures is complicated, sometimes good, sometimes bad, and it emphatically matters how we go about doing it: when marauding punks kill your family, you may justifiably go and kill them back; but when a power-mad warlord inflicts his brutal regime, you owe him no allegiance.

The Road tells a story where everything we care about can just blow away in the wind, and at best we can only cling to what we cherish, while we can. Power comes and goes, structures don't last, but cruelty and misery endure eternal and will always win--but we try anyway.

Soylent Green tells a story where societal structures can technically endure, but themselves have no moral compass and can inflict as much cruelty as uncaring nature. You may live in an illusion in which civilization appears to function, but in fact you have no more safety than the wilderness, and indeed you didn't realize it, but you're the cannibals, and perhaps soon the meal.

Those considerations all sit at the genre-type, commentative level, and I class them as wholly unconcerned with setting. Each of these stories would tell just as well in space, or an underground complex, or even Bronze-Age Fertile Crescent if you twist a few narrative arms. The where and when and what doesn't define or determine the kind of story, the genre, even if setting can help or hinder genre goals.

Bringing this back to Baker: he doesn't give a place where things happen; he doesn't give an inciting event that brought the apocalypse; he doesn't even describe what happened during the apocalypse, or how long ago it happened, or give a date for "today". I'll list three AW settings I've run or played in or heard about:

Sunlight vanished altogether, though somehow it hasn't gotten any colder. Darkness and shadow can become animate and even sapient, and can claim people, though it doesn't seem exactly malevolent or 'evil'. Rule of law has mostly fallen apart, but out of fear and prudence people mostly avoid wanton violence, because if you see someone you don't like, you could roll up on them and take their stuff--but just as easily they could kill you, and just as easily as either, the Dark might just take both of you; you're safer keeping the Dark at bay and not hassling someone else, unless you've got good reason.

A few years(?) ago, survivors woke up from total amnesia and some kind of fugue: it seems like this fugue lasted at least some years, there's some decay of modern-to-us structures, but the ruins look fully recognizable and often quite well-preserved. But signs abound, literally painted twenty-feet-high on buildings and structures, that something unfathomable happened. The giant wordless pictograms seem to warn to protect tools and structures, to stay together and not go off alone, indicate places that once had lots of food or other important resources, and most alarmingly they show gigantic hands reaching down from above onto some of the pictogram figures. No one can remember anything from before the wakeup though, so the meaning is lost.

Something like twenty years ago, the world broke in some fundamental way: it always rains or at least fog abounds, long-distance communication inexplicably but insurmountably fails to work, and cityscape has sprawled on its own to incorporate seemingly the entire world. As far as anyone knows, the city spans infinitely in every direction, it has no edge, only more city. The city-cancer seems waterlogged and rotting everywhere, some few places fit for use and occupancy, but if you go down any given street and step inside an empty house or shop, it probably won't suit human habitation. People still habitually carry on the forms and outlines of societal norms, mostly, because what else can they do? You can't burn it all down as long as it keeps raining.

I brought these up because Baker's conception of 'post-apoc' does not cover the whole of "all post-apocalyptic literature"--it couldn't, shouldn't, and if it did it would have little or no use to anyone. Baker's narrower conception, the Principles that AW's rules expect a setting to follow, narrow things down and keep the rules crisp, tight, and tractable.

Each of the AW campaigns above has a totally different setting, aiming in totally different directions for different things--but, they all live inside Baker's Principles for a post-apoc that fits within AW: scarcity, weak but present society and norms, a Before, an After, and no going back, and each has a 'Psychic Maelstrom' that excuses a lot of narrative fiat and deus ex machina and having characters just do weirdness not otherwise specified.

That 'Psychic Maelstrom' comes closest to giving what I'd call "a setting" as in "place, time, institutions", because it sits at the diagetic level. A distinct thing bound within a given story--except it only barely counts as 'diagetic'. Because Baker only gives loose guidelines for what a Psychic Maelstrom should be or do. Baker's own at-his-table Psychic Maelstrom will look nothing like mine, or my girlfriend's, or her erstwhile friend's, because in those three AW settings up there, each of us had totally different ideas for what to do with a Psychic Maelstrom in a post-apocalyptic setting.

But: all three of us used our Psychic Maelstroms for the things Baker says to use them for: unleash weirdness, justify unrealistic but narratively satisfying twists, allow and excuse extra awesomeness, maybe use as a metaphor or allegory for "how it got this way", as well as "where it could go", in literary terms. And . . . Baker doesn't really get closer than this, to giving "place, time, institutions, history and people and events". So in the sense I understand 'setting', a diagetic construct within a given story, AW doesn't have one.

But in the commentative genre sense, AW very definitely gives Baker's apocalypse, in that it gives a recipe for the things that Baker considers essential to the post-apoc genre (or at least, the aisle of the post-apoc library he wants to confine his game to). He doesn't try to tell a Soylent Green apocalypse so much--you'd need to twist some arms and ignore some Principles to tell Soylent Green. Nor does he try to tell Children of Men so much--you'd have to leave a lot out to rein AW in to just Children of Men. He instead aims* for something closer to Mad Max, but heavy on Weird West, and a lot less somber and desolate, so more like Fury Road. And he says, "here's how:".

(*) But, of course, he doesn't actually tell these stories. Instead he has the project of telling the reader how to tell this kind-of story. So, while he gives some sample poetic images of skylines on fire and the world torn asunder, he doesn't care to talk about the virus, or the metorite, or the gas-shortage or the food-shortage. He doesn't care about the where or when or what, and even with the Psychic Maelstrom, the one concrete diagetic thing he gives--it sits there as a meta-thing, explicitly unstated whether it resulted from The Apocalypse or its inciting event, or caused it as the inciting event, or something else.

All of which boils down to: commentative, about-stories, genre-level stuff owns bones, and I weigh it heavier than diagetic, in-stories, setting-level stuff. Baker gives excellent tools, within his purple polemic prose, for that first stuff and gives little or nothing for the second.

[clive-owen-and-the-knick]

The Knick - Fan Fiction “Inconsolable” Part 1

"Laudanum."

Bertie, disheveled and disconsolate, cast a quick glance past Nurse Pell, who was solemnly packing away Mrs. Alford's belonging in the private room on the patient wing of the Knickbocker hospital.

"What?"

"Laudanum," Dr. Algernon Edwards repeated, holding up a small glass vial and dropper which had been tucked neatly away on the small tabletop next to the patient's bed, ominously close to a nearly empty glass of water. Algernon picked up the glass and swirled the water, sniffing it closely.

"She must have ingested this before the surgery. It's the only explanation."

Bertie, who was leaning against the back wall to support his exhausted, compact frame, seemed to gain a little energy back, "That would explain it perhaps. The laudanum would certainly have depressed and slowed down her functions, most critically her breathing. And then when I applied the chloroform –"

"It was too much for her system to handle. A standstill," Algernon was glum as he fingered the laudanum container, "She must have been taking this for anxiety or insomnia perhaps. We didn't know about it, so we couldn't have predicted the outcome."

Nurse Pell hurriedly picked up as many items as she could, her natural inclination to eavesdrop tempting her to linger a little longer.

"Thackery needs to know it wasn't necessarily the anesthesia which caused the problem, Bertie. As a man it might hurt but as a doctor, I think he would want to know the reason why."

"I'm afraid he blames me. He's inconsolable. He hasn't left his office since we had to move Mrs. Alford down to the morgue."

"It wasn't your fault Bertie, you know that. It was a calculated risk which Thackery himself took for the surgery, just like any procedure, yet with very tragic results," Algernon explained. "Let me try to talk to him."

*********

"Dr. Thackery?" Nurse Lucy Elkins inquired firmly, knocking on the Thackery's polished office door with a determined wrap of her knuckles, "Dr. Thackery?"

"Any luck?" Dr. Algernon Edwards approached.

Lucy Elkins tried to erase the fear in her voice, the display of too much concern which she could feel pulsing in her veins. She already suspected that Algernon knew everything about her and Dr. Thackery, so being here with Dr. Edwards made her flush.

"No, I need to be sure he's alright. He didn't speak a word when he left the surgery room. I'm afraid he might do something to himself. "

Dr. Edwards nodded solemnly and moved the young nurse aside, as if stepping back into the shoes of the hospital's leading surgeon once again.

"Dr. Thackery, we're coming inside now, "Algernon knocked one more time and opened the door. His eyes had to adjust to the darkness as all the curtains had been drawn with the minimal light of dusk barely seeping into the room.

Lucy came around the side of Edwards and they both looked around the office, which seemed completely deserted. Lucy's heart did a double turn as she scanned the floor, her worst fear being to find the prone body of Dr. John Thackery sprawled beneath his desk. She hurried over to his chair and pulled it back, looking beneath it. Edwards walked over to the leather chaise longe and scanned the bookshelves, shrugging his shoulders.

"He isn't here, obviously. Do you have any idea where he could be? Did he go home maybe?"

"I don't think he's been home since he came back from the Cromartie hospital."

Edwards gave Lucy a quizzical look.

"How do you know?"

Lucy bite her lip worriedly, "I just know. I think he's mostly been sleeping here or at Mrs. Alford's townhome."

Algernon sighed, discouraged, "We'd better find him. This is not a night he should be spending alone."

Lucy mused sadly, "It sure isn't."

**********

Most of the orderlies and nurses had gone home for the evening. Word had spread like wildfire around the hospital about Dr. Thackery's personal tragedy. The syphilitic women with the patched nose and the beautiful hair who had wanted to look better for her renewed sweetheart, Dr. Thackery himself. The irony of this thoughtless vanity had been death. And at the very hands of the man she was wanting to please the most.

The hallways were deserted by 8pm and Dr. Thackery edged with staggering steps along the corridor wall, having consumed alcohol in his office for several hours before sneaking out and hiding in various empty rooms and hallways until he knew he get about without being seen. His head was pounding and his heart was broken. The entire day now seemed like a distant nightmare which couldn't really have happened.

The panic in the surgery room, the sudden shock of Abigail's dead stillness, the tubes to try to revive her breathe, the hopelessness of a lost cause. Fittingly, the two people to witness his failure were the two he had disappointed the most in their short careers at the Knick. He felt like some sort of King Lear losing control of his kingdom. It was as if his surrogate son, Bertie, had dealt the unwitting deathblow to his Queen while his surrogate daughter, Lucy, had stood by as a helpless witness to the death of her rival. Lucy certainly thought of him as some sort of father figure. However he looked at it, this strange trio has made something of an Oedipal deathtrap out of their intertwining destinies.

"'Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination'," Thackery heard himself mutter.

Shuddering in his mind, Thackery started to feel the tears coming again. He wanted to see her one last time so he made his way to the morgue. That cold, gray, hideous room of failure which so many patients ended up in when all the doctors and nurses' efforts – those heroic efforts! – went sideways.

Switching on the light of the morgue room, Thackery stood for a while, his arms limply at his sides. Which one of these dreadful boxes which lined the wall should he open first? It seemed a pointless and dreary choice. On his shaky knees, Thackery moved forward to weakly opened the first one. He heaved it open with a long motion of his arm.

He instantly stepped back with a gasp. He was staring down at the face of a girl dressed in white who looked alive. It was Sonia, the young anemic girl who had died at his hands a few months prior during a blood transfusion gone terribly wrong. But she was dead and buried with a new gravestone, surely? Why was she still here, haunting him? Hadn't he made amends?

Thackery slammed the morgue box back in place with an angry snarl, briefly holding his aching head in his hands. After a long moment he tried another box. He saw the very same body in it. Sonia, asleep and in the pink of her health. Not dead. Not buried.

Determined to banish this drunken hallucinations, Thackery continued to open the heavy, metal morgue boxes along the wall, and each time the same result. Abigail was not here! Sonia was in her place. He could not look at Abigail's sweet but scarred face one last time. All he kept seeing was this girl he thought he had put to rest finally. It wasn't even someone he knew very well at all. It was a haunting vision of failure and madness and presumption of skill. It was his own arrogance mocking him.

Finally discouraged and lost in remorse, Thackery stumbled out of the morgue.

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

"He isn't here either," Lucy said, climbing back into the passenger side of Henry Robertson's electric automobile. Across the street was the darkened windows of Mrs. Abigail Alford's home.

"So, am I missing something here? I have a fondness for Thack too – he's an amazing if temperamental genius. But how on earth do you know all of these places he goes?" Henry asked, a little exasperated. He had spent the last couple hours touring some of the more interesting places of Manhattan with Lucy Elkins in search of the missing doctor.

"I don't think that's really any of your business, Henry, " Lucy answered curtly, folding her dainty hands calming in her lap and turning her face away ,"I know more about him than you could possibly imagine."

Henry sighed, shaking his head. He was thoroughly charmed by this daring and sensual young nurse, so he felt himself willing to continue on this ridiculous hunt.

"Where to next?"

Lucy furrowed her brow, her eyes darkening, "We need to go to Chinatown next."

Henry nearly fell out of the car he jerked upright so quickly, "Where? Did you say Chinatown?"

"Yes. I did," Lucy answered quickly, "Do you know how to get there?"

Henry's mouth hung open with disbelief, "I think I can find my way there."

"Then hurry, please, we don't have time to lose," Lucy answered sternly.

Henry rolled his eyes and started up the electric car which took off into the cool evening, following the mixture of electric and gas lights on Broadway and turned south.

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

Opal Edwards had waited impatiently for Algernon to come home and took a hansom cab to The Knick when her patience ran out. Algie was late often enough, but tonight Opal felt like getting out in the fresh air and dressing up in one of her favorite burgundy dresses. She matched this with one of her most flattering veiled hats and pair of velvet gloves. With a dash of tuberose perfume on her throat she was ready to head out into the night. And why not surprise her husband at his infamous place of work? She was still furious about the Robertson's treatment of her husband. They had simply shuffled him off to the side with the intention of not fulfilling their promises for a position at the new Knick! Hypocritical cowards, she thought to herself bitterly. Algernon would have to forge a new path himself somewhere new – somehow.

When Opal arrived at the Knick, she was thankful that the main door was still unlocked despite the sparseness of the staff. One lone nurse was at the front desk and glared at her with hostile surprise. To see a smartly dressed black woman at this time of night must have surprised her, Opal thought, giving the woman a wide smile.

"I'm here to see my husband, Dr. Algernon Edwards, " Opal stated proudly, locking eyes with the nurse.

"His office is that way," the woman indicated the hallway to her left coldly.

"Thank you," Opal answered in her most haughty London accent and marched down the empty corridor with a swish of her skirts, her arm laced elegantly around the strap of her purse.

Her footsteps echoed smartly as she continued down the lonely hall. She could hear the electric buzz of the lights around her. Her steps slowed as the silence continued to grow. Did that woman send her in the wrong direction? Opal sniffed and smelled something unpleasant, something chemical mixed with a stench of sickness and decay. Suddenly the shadows of these rooms filled her with foreboding. So many grisly things happened in these rooms. She stopped and listened. She heard the shuffle of feet.

Around the corner a crumpled lanky figure appeared in a dark suit, his jet-black hair falling across his forehead. He braced the wall shakily and looked up at her with eyes full of misery and pain, his hand clutching at his gut.

"Hello, Doctor Thackery, " Opal spoke first, taken aback.

Thackery's face was startled, "What are you doing here?"

"Maybe you don't recognize me," Opal said curtly, “I know we all look the same to you.”

"Opal, like the fields in Australia," Thackery answered with warm recognition.

Softening, Opal took a step towards him now, noticing his pained stance, "What happened here today?"

Thackery couldn't answer her as he fell into a swoon of agony, clutching at her shoulders for support. Opal quickly braced Thackery around the waist. Beneath her gloved hands she could feel his ribs.

"Help me!" Opal looked around desperately for another soul to assist. Her voice carried down the corridor and reached no ears. They were completely alone here.

Struggling, Opal let Thackery lean on her closely as she hoisted him upright.

"Dr. Thackery, where do you want me to take you?" Opal asked.

Thackery, blurry-eyed with pain, depression and alcohol, raised his arm and started to guide them both, "Down here to my office."

[joelmillerthirstqz]

Joel’s quiet, at first. Quiet, and seeming to hold himself in tight control. Sprawling across his lap while you dip your tongue into his mouth gets mostly heavy exhales and the feedback of his hands indecisively skimming over you. You assume years of being conscious about noise infiltrated him this deeply until you run the tip of your tongue along the roof of his mouth and he moans, filthy and full of intent. Without hesitation, he rises with you wrapped around his waist, firm grasp making you wonder if he can hold you up in longer, less clothed ways.

Once he’s crowded you up the stairs and into the bed, he can’t seem to shut up. You bask in it, affectionate names and dominant little promises rolling out of him between groans of enjoyment and sharp hisses of self-restraint. It’s all bullshit, but it’s good bullshit and it feels amazing for his breath to tease your ear while he says it. He might just like badgering you for answers, might just want the affirmations you respond with.  He likes hearing yes, likes you begging, maybe needs the continuous assurance that you want him the way he’s giving himself.

He likes making you come and feeling you come, and he sits behind you still clothed, curled close with three fingers buried inside of you, feeling every shudder as he works. When he strokes your clit with his thumb and your whole body jerks against him, Joel chuckles warmly into your shoulder and keeps up the pressure.

“Like this?” he asks, needlessly. Your head is thrown back on his shoulder and you’re panting with effort, lost in it and very close. He slows, mouth on your neck. “Hm?”

“Please, Joel,” you flex your hands where you’re hanging on to his thighs.

“This get you close? This what you wanted?” he keeps murmuring, almost below being audible. You grasp a handful of his hair and kiss him instead of responding, getting an impatient grunt. He pulls coated fingers from you and drags them across your folds, hovering. His left hand guides your jaw towards him, holding you fast so he can look in your eyes.

“C’mon,” he urges, kissing you again. You bite his lower lip as he pulls back and his eyes go wide with surprise.

“Don’t you fucking stop,” you grit out, fisting a hand in his shirt.

“Stop this? Like this?” Joel asks, roughly pushing three fingers back into you without caution, seeming satisfied with your cry. He fans his left hand under your chin, though, and asks again. His palm touches the thin skin of your neck, raising goosebumps down your front. Joel doesn’t miss it and his expression darkens.

“This was all you wanted? Going to come for me yet?” Joel quickens his pace, watching you intently. You’re still partially tangled in your jeans, shirt tugged up over your breasts, mouth swollen from colliding with his. You kick off your jeans completely, wobbling with the effort.

“No, fuck, not all,” you twist in his arms, straddling his lap and starting to work through the buttons of his shirt. His mouth is overwhelmingly distracting and intent on making it hard, so he’s pliant under you up to the bottom button but unwilling to take his hands off of you long enough to shrug out of it. You move to his belt, flicking it open as Joel figures how to best not break your kiss. You let him do it, and he shrugs out of his shirt before pulling you against him. The motion reveals the quick agility of his actions, in total control of his body, which you expect from anyone who’s still alive. Joel’s so fucking unassuming about how he looks until he finds a doorframe to dwarf with that lean he does when he’s about to be infuriating.

His heat feels fantastic and the brush of your chests together jolts your fingers back to his jeans, breaking from each other’s mouths to breathe hard. Joel rises to his knees and sets you down on the bed so he can finally get free. You reach for him without meaning to, and he roughly pulls you closer to him by the ankles, hand encircling one comfortably. He fans a large palm over your lower abdomen, holding you fast while he finishes getting out of his pants.

“Please,” you breathe, trying to push your hips up towards his. Joel limits your motion and rubs himself against you without penetrating you.

“Fucking frustrating,” you protest, smacking the arm he’s hooking your leg over. He makes a warm, small noise that you realize is delighted chuckle before sheathing himself fully and fast. You groan together at the sensation and you feel a shiver go through Joel. While you’re scratching your nails along his forearms and over his shoulders, Joel closes his eyes and taps his forehead to yours. You say his name, making tiny circles with your hips as much as having you pinned allowed.

“Close already,” he warns, closing a palm over the wrist opposite the leg he’s got folded up.

“Just from watching?” you ask, honestly a little flattered and even more into him as he nods.

“All of you,” he breathes before kissing you a little more sweetly than you expected. Sure, you felt like you’d been folded in half on every surface in his house in the last week, but it hadn’t been that long and you could both still regard it as really good sex without needing more.

Maybe.

Joel’s kisses are less precise as he turns you, apparently frustrated with the angle after a few strokes of his tongue and joining you fully on the bed.

One hand drags along your flank and he pulls you upright in his lap. From here, he looks up at you with this inscrutable consumed face as you move, and you brace yourself on his shoulders. You notice sparse little freckles across them for the first time and think you may have blushed if not for how flushed you already are with the effort of taking him. You cup his face in one hand as you start to ride him, your eyes rolling shut with the first few times you thrust. He stretches you perfectly and you’re perhaps the best prepared you’ve ever been in your life, so it’s easy to grind down again and again.

When you open your eyes again, Joel’s irises are a faint line around blown-out pupils, pleasure plain on him. You’re about to tease that he’s lost his words all of a sudden, stroking lines at the corner of his eye that only emphasize how lovely they are. How soft they can look.

“C’mon, I wanna feel you come on my cock, sweetheart,” Joel starts in that tone saved for the affirming nonsense he likes to rumble at you. Spilling hopes that you’ll scream for him, intentions to make you do it, stupid meaningless endearments more in context in the world before—all of it sounds like Joel’s wonderful voice and is half-whispered against you even though you feel the sound vibrate through his ribcage.

“Can’t last long the way you feel,” he puts open-mouthed kisses against your throat and you feel him smile when you moan. Joel’s hands are directionless, slipping over sweat-pricked skin anywhere he can reach. You gasp as your thrusts stagger, grinding down hard against his pubic bone and freezing above him between ragged, helpless shakes. You think you’re crying out his name but it’s not even close at this point. Your orgasm breaks fast, molten and wonderful as it spreads throughout you, Joel watching your face raptly.

You haven’t even begun to come down when you register that Joel’s pushed you onto your back, never parting from you as you move. It settles him deeper, and in your oversensitive state you do genuinely cry out.

“Too sensitive?” Joel asks with mock concern, rising to his knees to give a firm thrust fully within you.

You make a noise that could either confirm or deny, so Joel does it again.

“Fuck, Joel!” you protest, thinking back to how overstimulated you made him yesterday, making him come twice in the span of half an hour or so. Oh no.

Joel sucks his thumb before carefully flicking it against your clit, causing your eyes to go wide and your back to arch off the bed. He doesn’t really get cocky in general, but taking in the long line of him above you, his smirk makes you think he’s at least a little pleased with himself. He’s too fucking pretty to need to be this good at pleasing you, but he chases your responses and expressions eagerly, like watching his effect on you is the main thing he’s after. You’re not over the crest of sensitivity, so each strum of his digit against you feels like electricity to your spine.

Joel starts a fast rhythm, and you can tell from how he presses his weight into your hips through his hands that he’s having to keep his composure to fuck you for this long. His dark brow draws together as he pounds into you thoroughly, letting himself fall forward onto his elbows.

You make a long noise as his pace shifts, something about the drag of his cock at this angle exactly what you want. Overstimulation flees, pursued by a roll of what feels like boiling blood through your body as he slams home. You wrap your legs around his hips and hook your ankles, spreading apart for him fully. You chant his name and notice how much he seems to react to you saying it, and your fingertips scrape down his broad back.

Joel kisses you seriously, almost inappropriately adoring for the way you’re currently twitching around his length. The room is feeling oppressively hot but you feel immersed, firmly peaked nipples brushing his chest in the warm space between you. It’s easy to rock together, and you pull him into you with your legs just as much as he pumps into you. Mouth at your ear, he nips the lobe and starts to speak again as you start to slide against each other from the sweat accumulating between your bodies.

“I’m—” you exhale hard, and Joel strokes your temple as he murmurs. He surprises you by gripping your hair close to the scalp, pulling your neck taut. It isn’t even rough; just commanding. The action makes you pulse and start to climax again, hips rolling upward against him as your mouth works without sound.

“That’s it, baby girl, just like that, I’ve got you, keep goin’,” Joel glances up at your expression, eyes squinted shut and pinned gasps hitching every few seconds. He knows he’s holding the perfect angle for you and bites his lip as your cunt contracts in powerful pulses, pulling his cock deeper on instinct.

“…perfect, love how you feel—fuck,” Joel loses his focus as your knees fall open after the crest of your orgasm, waves of pleasure rippling out and reverberating from your extremities, too good to keep your body tense around him.

Letting go, Joel moans as his orgasm hits him, biting your shoulder to hush his own cry. He’s helpless, slamming into you roughly and provoking aftershocks of your orgasm with each jerk of his hips. All you can do is hold on and shake with the impact, endorphins exploding like chain detonation.

Joel falls against you, sure to place most of his weight to the side. Your chest pressed to his, you smile at the high fluttering of his heart, knowing yours matched it moments before. He looks at you with wonder, effects of a significant orgasm plain on his face. You kiss him suddenly, realizing you’re not done with him. You expect boneless neutrality at the worst, but he opens his mouth slowly and takes your head in both hands, languorous and indulgent.

He readjusts to his side and you throw a leg over his hip, somehow deepening your kiss as he goes. It’s sodden with afterglow and you hear Joel make a soft noise, his leg twining with yours. You realize his spend is leaking out of you onto his thigh and inhale sharply.

“Sorry—” you start, trying to figure out how to not ruin the sheets. Joel’s hand digs into your ass and pulls you back towards him, resettling how you were.

“Not done with you,” he says against your mouth, “And I like it,” he admits more quietly, two fingers grazing down the curve of your ass to stroke the place where your body is wet against his leg.

“I may not be able to go anymore,” you caution, sensitive, certainly sore, and due on patrol in the morning.

Joel laughs, sincere mirth reaching his eyes at the thought of fucking again tonight.

“No, I just meant being close,” he clarifies, kissing you again. “I’ll get up in a minute, just—”

You kiss him this time, holding his jaw in your hand. He recovers quickly enough to respond to your tongue enthusiastically, moving deliriously together.

When you need to breathe, and probably only due to that, Joel pecks you softly and strokes your leg.

“Right back,” he says, and you settle into the sheets and let how good that was roll over you. It was so much more intense than being bent over, notwithstanding how deeply satisfying as fucking Joel had been so far. You suspected he truly enjoyed watching his partner but you felt like a star pulling his focus toward you now, central. This felt like you’d run out of words, then Joel hadn’t been able to shut up, which ultimately spent both your physical energy, and you were suspended in kissing him to communicate.

He returns before you can sink too deep, offering you a towel and climbing back into bed alongside you. You poke your head up, identify the laundry and toss expertly, burrowing back into his shoulder and pressing a hand to his heart. He covers it, and you smile against him.

—

Its three in the morning when you realize you’d fallen asleep in his arms and Joel’s mouth is on the nape of your neck. You spend fifteen minutes fucking on your sides wordlessly, sealed together with arms overlapping, grasping at each other with spare consciousness.

—

The room is light when you open your eyes, facing a still-asleep Joel with one of your hands clasped in his. You don’t think before kissing his knuckles softly, drawing a sleepy grunt. His eyes slit open in annoyance before adjusting to you and allowing a smile.

“Want coffee?” Joel mumbles in a sleep-scratchy voice. Your eyes light up.

“Do I have to find some first?” you ask.

“Just downstairs,” he smiles, a little pleased with himself.

He turns at the foot of the stairs to look back up at you as you descend, his shirt falling to the tops of your thighs. Joel’s lips part as he watches you, pulling you into his arms as you meet him on the bottom step, level with his height.

“Looks nice,” he says like he’s trying to be quiet about it, kissing you with your face in his hands.

“Feels nice,” you reply, forehead against his. You trail after him into the kitchen, hand in his, appraising broad shoulders with interest and wishing you didn’t have to be anywhere. Joel moves confidently, something that would be a routine set of motions if coffee wasn’t such a rarity. When he’s finished, he grasps both mugs and pauses before turning to you, taking a breath.

You brace yourself—going too well, knew it couldn’t—

Joel turns, a look on his face close to exasperation. You’d soon learn that’s just his face when he’s forced to think about how he feels.

“Look, I dunno what I’m doin’, but will I see you tonight? When you’re back?” he asks, eyes everywhere but you. He’s not withholding the coffee, but he does seem to have forgotten the mugs in each hand.

You reach out and grasp one with one hand, fingers over his rough hands.

“I’ll leave my keys?” your heart flutters without your permission, the fast intimacy coming casually to you in the face of his frank vulnerability. Joel’s eyes widen and he nods like he’s afraid speaking will put the offer in peril, and almost immediately pivots to making a mental list for the night. Just because you’d seized on readily apparent chemistry doesn’t mean you’d really made a date, yet. You sip the black coffee still in each others’ space, looking at each other closely until you laugh lightly and break the tension, kissing his upturned mouth before going to collect your things for patrol.