#as someone who lives in the bay and worked very close to the grove while it was in session last year

[cup-o-cat]

LEVERAGE BOHEMIAN GROVE CON????

(if you don't know what the lore behind the bohemian grove is, i totally recommend you look it up. shit is wild and somehow not made up)

[pike-the-monstah]

alright, so this is the silliest post i’ve ever made, but i think i will elaborate on the somnovem/bugsnax au, actually

(praying that tumblr doesn’t fuck up the readmore because this got long)

the au takes place in a world that’s a bizarro blend of both series, shortly after some version of the iron shepherds arc. please do not question anything about the logistics of this world, because there are no answers. molly dies, but for whatever reason, the mighty nein don’t cross paths with caduceus just yet. cree has been following the mighty nein a lot more closely in this au, so when the mighty nein visit molly’s grave on their way home, it’s already empty.

the tomb takers are on a mission to spread bugsnax to the rest of the world (instead of the somnovem)a. lucien, newly revived (god knows how that all went down), works with cree to rebuild the tomb takers and locate snaktooth island, while the mighty nein set out to track down molly. eventually, the tomb takers find their way to snaktooth, and once the mighty nein learn where the group has gone, they put together an expedition to follow. 

their recruits:

shakaste, cali, and keg are obvious choices, as previous allies. i’d throw nila in there too, but, given how her mini-arc ended, i think the m9 would probably want her to stay with her family

reani hasn’t met the group yet, but she’s been receiving visions from samliel telling her of a great danger on snaktooth island. she’s already been searching for a way to get there, and happily joins up with the mighty nein.

essek also hasn’t met the group yet, but, like floofty, essek has somehow gotten whiff of the possibilities of the place and is intrigued. he’s looking for a way to get there that isn’t outright suicidal, and joining this group seems convenient enough.

and finally, the last member is twiggy- just like in canon, they meet her when she stows away on their ship.

(also yasha sticks with the mighty nein in this au, to find out what happened)

the gang arrives on snaktooth island, and at first, things are fine. this is early campaign, though, before a lot of character growth for everyone, so cracks quickly begin to show. it all comes to a head in a big fight that leads to most of the group going their separate ways, and this is where caduceus comes in.

caduceus serves the newcomer/pseudojournalist role, and he has probably not been having the best time. like in canon, the wildmother is pretty fucking concerned about this place and seems to want him to do something about it, but, unlike in canon, he doesn’t have the mighty nein to travel with. it’s not the easiest journey for anyone alone, and, of course, it ends with his airship crash-landing in the middle of a storm. he does, however, meet fjord and jester.

fjord and jester vaguely take on filbo’s role in this au- when the group split, they stayed in town, and are doing their best to bring the village back together. in the middle of the storm, they witnessed the crash, and hurried up to flavor falls to find the airship’s (former) occupant. pretty weird way to meet someone, but, after a bit of exposition, they enlist caduceus’s help.

on their way back to snaxburg, they meet keg in the garden grove. keg is not exactly good with difficult social situations, and the one that led to the group falling apart was a clusterfuck. now that things have calmed down, though, they manage to convince her to return, although probably after some wambus-style “get revenge on that annoying bunger” quests. they also run into shakaste here, but i don’t think he ever really left town- he honestly seems too level-headed.

the five of them reach snaxburg, and the quests to reunite everyone else begin:

caleb and veth are living in the simmering springs. even though their attachment to the group solidified after molly’s death, the transformative powers of the bugsnax and the possibilities for veth(/nott) were too tempting not to investigate. they maybe went a little overboard experimenting, though, leading to arguments with the rest of the group, who grew increasingly concerned and alarmed at what the pair were doing. caleb and veth left the village to continue their studies in peace, but, since they haven’t been having much success, it’s not too difficult to convince them to return.

essek is nearby in the boiling bay for similar reasons, and he, caleb, and veth formed a loose Science Collective in their time away from the rest of the group. this is early campaign essek, though, so he’s still kinda keeping to himself, and it takes longer for him to agree to come back.

cali and twiggy are in the scorched gorge. while investigating the island, cali found evidence of a past cult of the caustic heart presence (if triffany’s grandma and grumpbeard can both have inexplicably died on snaktooth, then so can a member of the cult of the caustic heart lmao), and left the village to investigate. i genuinely think twiggy and cali would be very fast friends, and with everyone going their separate ways, twiggy found someone to stay with rather than stick around for all the fighting. once a caustic heart artifact is located and destroyed, both are willing to come home.

reani is living out in the sizzling sands. the thing about reani is that, due to her dreams, she’s probably the first to suspect the real nature of the island, but, due to the canonical mind-warping powers of bugsnax, reani has a very difficult time convincing anyone else. this is early in her character arc, too, when she has a very strict view on morality, and as much as she liked everyone else initially, the others refusing to stop their bugsnax experimentation/consumption/etc would probably cause some friction. it takes the gang working through some shit for her to return later on.

beau is up in sugarpine woods. pre-kamordah, she’s still struggling with the “leave them before they leave you” mentality, and when the group fell apart, she went yeah, fuck it, guess that’s all i get, and bolted. now that everyone’s coming back together, though, they’re able to convince her to return.

and then, finally, yasha is the eggabell equivalent in frosted peak. as the group started to fracture, she felt they were all losing sight of the real goal of the trip, and did her early campaign yasha thing and just left. like eggabell, she’s been pushing herself hard to find molly, and she refuses to return to snaxburg until he’s rescued.

so the gang is all reunited, character growth takes place, interpersonal conflicts are resolved, and they even make progress on finding molly. great! too bad the volcano’s about to blow. yasha figures out how to get the door open, and the group splits up to defend the town and investigate the undersnax.

and in the undersnax, they discover lucien. turns out that when the tomb takers made it to the island, all of them were consumed except lucien, who managed to take control like lizbert. in a way, this was his plan- take control over the island to bring its powers to the mainland- but he’s struggling. the bugsnax do have mind-warping abilities and are fighting back, so it’s taking him longer than expected to achieve anything (which, despite the natural disasters, is sort of keeping the gang safe, since the island is focused on another threat). the appearance of his old friends destabilizes him even more, and shit starts to really go sideways. part of his mind starts to say, hey, if he lets the island win just a little bit and consume this group, then he can send them back to the mainland as patient zero(s), right? surely, now that he’s in power, they won’t just crumble to dust like the rest of the tomb takers, and he can remain behind to rule the island as a god. all he needs to do is let the island have what it wants, which, right now, is to go full aggro on the mighty nein.

so the bugsnax attack, beginning the “escape from snaktooth” sequence. the gang probably fights some giant monstrosities similar to not-cree, and there’s plenty of opportunity for parallels to gaining eye tattoos during battle. and for sentiment’s sake, right at the end when their airship is about to be knocked out of the sky, a little bit of molly returns just for a moment, and he fulfills lizbert and eggabell’s role as last-minute savior for the rest of the gang.

they all escape but, given who they are, i imagine it’s just to regroup before returning to solve the problem once and for all (and probably to see if that little bit of molly can be rescued in the process).

misc details: au is pretty ship-neutral but, yknow, maybe beau was following yasha up into the mountains, just a little bit. it’s probably also more ensemble-focused than the game, as opposed to the video game logic of caduceus just running around doing everything for everyone else. also, heavily considered a mighty-nein-never-met version of the au where journalist!beau investigates the island as an expositor, but ultimately, this version felt like it had stronger reasons for everyone to be there in the first place.

[fluffyunicornofdanger]

Living a Little Part 6

A/N: I have been thinking about finishing this series forever but just never got around to it. Living a Little is one of my favorite works and I’m so glad you guys like it, I’ll probably have the next part out soon. Between now and then, let’s hope I find the motivation to do my Biology project. Anyway, let me know if you guys like it and yeah. Also, I forgot how much I love writing for Queen, so I might be posting a bunch of Queen content in the near future.

*~~*~~*

Masterlist

John Deacon x Reader

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Summary: Y/n get dragged out of her comfort zone by her roommate, even though she knows Y/n never goes out, due to her studies, to a rock concert. Of all places. But maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all, when she meets, a very interesting, certain bassist. And he just so happens to find her interesting too.

Word Count: 2 k

Warnings: Language, implied domestic violence, editing, idk

A couple of months had gone by and little had changed. 

Charles made appearances every now and then, but they no longer kept Y/n up at night. Or at least, she tried to make it seem like they didn’t.  

Once she’d seen him at the market, while she was picking out apples. Another time, he was at the car wash the same time she was. Every time he crossed her vision she tried to pretend that he wasn’t there. That he was merely another stranger among a sea of strangers. It worked as long as no one listened to her heart rate increase. If someone listened closely, she was sure they would be able to hear her heartbeat against her ribcage. 

Charles didn’t go away and neither did John. 

Though she hadn’t done a good job of communicating with him after their second date, John did a fabulous job of keeping in touch with her. It was evident to everyone that he was in love with her and couldn’t stay away. Y/n felt the same, but at that moment in time, John was more of a distraction for her than anything. 

She never went to see him because she loved him or was dying to see him. She never made plans with him because she missed him or wanted to spend time with him. Every second that she spent by his side was one second that she wasn’t thinking about the nightmare that lurked in the shadows. 

Y/n loved John. She really did, but she needed more than love to survive.

Charles hadn’t spoken a word to her, yet his voice filled her mind with vicious thoughts. The mental abuse he had inflicted upon her years ago came creeping back. Yet he wasn’t the one inflicting it this time around. Y/e was beating herself up just like Charles had once done. 

At night, she would cry for hours about things she couldn’t control, no heard her cries so they lasted for hours. Alice never noticed the bags under her roommate’s eyes or the amount of liquor that Y/n drowned to keep her demons at bay. No one seemed to notice her spilling into a pit of misery.

“David Bowie’s performing tomorrow night at this new venue, you see if Johna and the boys wanna come see it with us,” Alice asked while reading the paper.  

Y/n was hunched over a medical textbook. She had a major test in a week and due to everything going on she’d been less than stellar at paying attention in class. 

“Y/n.”

Her eyes tarted up from the page, “What?”

“Did you not hear me?”

She shook her head, going back to her reading.”

Alice scoffed. “I swear, you have been up in the clouds lately. I’d say it’s because of John but you never seem to happy to see him.”

“I don’t know what you mean-” Y/n closed the book and looked at her roommate. “-how could I not be happy to see him?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know, Y/n. You just seem off, that’s all I’m saying.” Y/n rolled her eyes, “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

Without another word, she grabbed her coat and exited the flat. The brisk London air swept her hair up and whipped it around as she stepped onto the sidewalk. She just turned the corner when someone fell in step beside her.

“It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” Charles stated.

Through gritted teeth, Y/n asked, “What are you doing here, Charles?”

“Can’t I go out for a stroll?”

She rolled her eyes.

“It’s just luck that I ran into you.”

Yeah, just his luck. It seemed that Y/n had run clean out of luck a long time ago. “You really shouldn’t be here, you know that. I made it clear a long time ago that I wanted nothing to do with you. So, why must you force your way back into my life?” she asked.

He shook his head in amusement. “I haven’t forced my way into your life, I’ve barely entered it. You wouldn’t like what I’d do if I forced my way in.”

Y/n turned to confront him to see that he was no longer at her side. Instead, he had crossed the street, almost out of her view.

What a bastard!

Why? Why couldn’t life just work in her favor for once? Things always went well for her only for a tidal wave to hit and destroy everything! All she wanted was happiness. Just an ounce… that’s all she was asking for. 

No destination in sight, Y/n kept walking. The further she walked, the further away Charles was. At least, she hoped. Logic didn’t matter to her as long as she felt safe in some sense. 

Distance had once made her feel safe. With Charles an ocean away, Y/n felt like she had the whole world in her hands. No task was too big for her with the power that she had felt. That was the power that told her she had what it took to become a doctor.  

She believed that.

And then Charles came back and she wasn’t sure what to believe.

Perhaps up was down and down and was up. The ocean was green and the sky was purple. She just didn’t know anymore. 

Most importantly, she didn’t know who she was anymore.

Sure, she had never been the most outgoing, but she knew what made her happy. Her love her medicine made studying fun and easy and kept her on track for graduating. Music had always brought her to life, allowing her to get lost in the grove. But known of that seemed to bring her any joy.

Y/n stopped in front of a bar, it was 5 o’clock at night and she saw no reason to turn around and walk home. She actually wasn’t sure which way was home. A mind occupied by troubles, Y/n had walked aimlessly with blinders. Who knew what part of the city she was in.

The bar was almost empty when she entered, only a few people scattered throughout. Y/n walked up to the bar and took a seat, she rested her hand against her chin. The bartender walked over a few seconds later and stared down at her, “Rough day, darling?”

Y/n nodded. It seemed more like a rough life, though.

“I got just the thing for you, it wouldn’t fix anything, but it should take your mind off it for a bit,” the bartender told her before she disappeared.

*~~*~~*

A few hours had passed, and Y/n was surprised that the bartender kept serving her and that she hadn’t fallen out of her chair yet. It was probably 11 and the place was hopping with people. There was barely room to move around, let alone breath and the alcohol was racing through Y/n’s blood like a freight train. Her heart was pound as her head spun round and round. Trying to stand, she fumbled around the room before a pair of strong arms grabbed her. 

“I got ya’. Let’s get you out of here.”

Y/n nodded, letting the person guide her out of the building. 

In the open street, the two stopped next to a street lamp. Y/n leaned against it, trying to get her bearings. Maybe she had one too many drinks. 

“Thanks,” she slurred.

“No problem, Y/n.”

Looking up, Y/n caught sight of her savor, the street lamp casting light over his features. It was the last person she wanted to see. “Charlie.”

“What happened to Charles?” he asked before flashing her a smile. “You know you’re a lightweight, so why’d you down so much?”

Y/n growled, shoving herself off the lamp post. How did he always find her? “What are you doing here, Charlie? Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

He chuckled, giving her that same old grin, the one that he always gave her before bringing her in for a kiss. She used to miss that smile, used to miss him a lot, but times changed. “I just want to make sure you’re safe. Trying to be nice here, Y/n, don’t go turning me into a bad guy for that.”

She scoffed, walking in the direction she believed home was. “You’re never trying to be nice. You only ever do anything for personal gain.” Y/n turned to him, “What do you think you’ll gain this time around?”

“Who said I plan to gain anything? I’m just trying to be friendly.”

Bullshit.  

Charles walked beside her as Y/n navigated the sidewalk, trying not to trip over thin air. 

“Why’d you even come back? Did the American refuse to put up with your bullshit?”

Charles rolled his eyes, “I got promoted and my company offered me a position here. You can’t pass up money like that, Y/n. It’s insane.”

“You can and you could have passed up coming back into my life.”

*~~*~~*

Alice got up when she heard a knock from the door. It was late and she just wanted to sleep. Y/n had disappeared hours ago and Alice had a big test the next morning, a little sleep, a little less stress, was all she was asking for. God, who knew having a roommate could be so stressful. Trudging to the door, she opened it, her eyes adjusting to the hallway lights.

In front of her stood John, Brian, Freddie, and Roger. She sighed, knowing exactly what they wanted. 

“She’s not here.”

John gave her a puzzled look. Y/n was normally always home. “Where is she at?”

Alice shrugged, “Beats me. Probably at a bar or having dinner somewhere. I don’t know.”

Turning to his friends, the shrugged and suggested that they go. It would be no use waiting for her. John couldn’t help but agree, he should have called ahead anyway. Y/n was always busy with either work or school, and she seemed stressed out over something. Maybe she just needed some time to herself. “Alright, will you tell her that I stopped by?” the man asked.

The blonde nodded, “Of course.”

The musician turned and followed his friends out of the building, disappointment in his eyes. Though he knew that Y/n was probably busy with something, it seemed off. Y/n had seemed off for a while and everyone tried to tell him it was one thing or another. How could he believe that when there was always a hint of fear in her eyes? School and work weren’t the only things bothering her, but any time he asked what was, she brushed it off. 

“She’s probably out with her family,” Brian told him, giving him some hope. “Or probably had to pull an extra shift at work.”

He nodded, that had to be it. 

The group stepped out onto the street as Roger pulled out a cigarette. “This was a bust,” he said as he lite it.

“Oh, don’t say that, Rog. We can still go out a party,” Freddie stated as they walked to the car. “It would just be more fun for John if Y/n was there, that’s all.”

The blonde rolled his eyes, blowing out smoke. “Yeah, whatever.”

They all climbed into the small car as Roger turned the engine. The car roared to life as Roger caught sight of a couple walking down the street. Squinting his eyes, Roger made out what looked like Y/n and another man. It was probably her brother, but he thought she only had a sister. 

John was already feeling down, so Roger thought it best not to say anything, that was until the man Y/n was with wrapped his arms around her and brought her in for a kiss. Definitely wasn’t her brother.

“Um, guys, we have a problem,” Roger stuttered. 

Brian waved him away, “No we don’t, just drive, Roger.”

“Um, no, we do-” He pointed out the window at Y/n and the mysterious man. “- I think that is a problem.”

The three other men followed Roger’s gaze, landing on Y/n.  

John couldn’t believe what he was seeing, Y/n was the last person he thought would be unfaithful. The last person he thought would break his heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[supernoondles]

2019

The last day of 2019 was also the day I fainted for the first time--a fitting metaphor for the year.

2019 was overall very emotionally taxing. This year was emotionally defined by falling intensely, deeply in love with someone (who is a very private person so I will try to be vague to respect that) and being in a lot of pain because of situations mostly outside of our control. There were a lot of intensely joyous moments, and a lot of intensely sad ones. Throughout it all I wish I had communicated better. I also made some bad decisions with another person I really loved and cared about that resulted in us growing apart. Do I think I grew from the experiences? For sure. Do I wish I could have come upon these realizations through a different course of action? Also yes. Am I fully healed from the experiences? Not really, but I've been getting better.

2019 was also very bad in terms of research. It was the 2nd year of my PhD. After I submitted my rotation project I basically felt stuck in the swamp of my advisors rejecting new project ideas for like literally half a year. This, combined with my high emotional volatility (partially due to starting birth control), made me really sad, unmotivated, and susceptible to self-blame. I definitely had high expectations for myself and became frustrated at my lack of progress and felt a lot of pressure from myself to get my shit together. I also felt incredibly bad after most advisor meetings and not supported by one of them to the point where I had to have a conversation with him about the lack of support (which was very scary)! Things started picking up, though, near the end of the year. I published a paper in collaboration with a former post-doc/now professor elsewhere whom I learned a lot from, and started finally building out another system. I also started mentoring an undergrad who at some point told me I helped him feel like he had something important to say and belong at Stanford for the first time and those words meant a lot to me. I think I'm continuing to refine what I value as research contributions and increasingly think about what it means to build systems that aren't used outside of the lab to satisfy the annual conference publishing cycle. I'm also starting to feel the pressure of doing work that follows a narrative rather than random projects that interest me.

Oh, I guess in terms of "program requirements," I did finish taking required classes, passed qualifying exams, and got a master's degree. But honestly those weren't hard at all nor do I think are externally valued in the larger research community, so I don't really celebrate them as accomplishments beyond surface level.

In 2019 I saw two different therapists. The first one was awful, I think directly influenced some of my bad decisions, and also didn't respect my gender identity??? The second one is a lot better and I'm grateful to see her, even if 90% of our sessions are just talking about my relationship (romantic/advisor) issues, which is something I want to move away from in the future. But I also feel incredibly privileged when relationship issues are the primary stressors in my life--I am grateful I feel equipped to handle other crap, like deadlines, and don't have to worry about my own health.

Those were the main things that have colored this year. We'll now move into the section of this post where I go through my photos to jog my memory of other events.

New years started a tradition of getting dim sum with Jasper, Matthew, and Michelle dear to my heart. My high school friend was also visiting and we all attended a really awesome new year's eve party. I was also going on a lot of dates and having a lot of good sex, which made me really happy, and at the same time crying all the time at work. In February I received probably the best gift anyone has ever given me and saw Panic! at the Disco, which I said in an end of the year group meeting was a good memory of my year (it was, to relive my scene days!). In March I roadtripped both to Marin (which I had never to been before, despite all my years in the bay) and LA for Wondercon; it was nice to both see high school friends and go on a trip with the boo. In April I went on a hike with my office which was probably the start of us all becoming closer (we are the social office in the wing now, which I take pride in! Also we draw a lot of Pokemon which warms my heart). In May I went to CHI in Glasgow and then to Paris afterward, and the entire experience was very weird and bad and also too many flights were canceled and/or missed and I vowed to not return to Europe for a while, but man do I love the noodles at Trois Fois plus de Piment. In June we hosted a double apartment party with my downstairs neighbors (side note: I am really appreciative of the place I live in, for the community, convenience, and large-ass space and will be really sad to be kicked out fall 2020) and I started a friendship important to me. I cat-sat for my advisor (the one who doesn't make me feel bad) twice. I went to Redwood State Park with my family and hosted a summer solstice celebration. Over the summer a friend I met in Paris back in 2017 moved in with me. I had a much needed escape from the bay to Seattle where I was reminded how abundant the world can be. I also went to Tahoe to celebrate my parents' anniversary, and really liked stumbling upon a smaller lake with a cheap boat rental. Then I became FOMO about the highly competitive Bay Area camping and did a last minute walk-in at Redwood Basin in Santa Cruz, which made me realize that I don't actually love camping (but was nice nonetheless). I ate an expensive meal at Commonwealth before they closed. For my birthday we made a friendship quilt and I served my favorite dish of cumin lamb but it was also 90 degrees in my apartment (I felt really bad and bought two fans afterwards). I started buying many cartoon frog plush after being gifted a $3.99 on sale Safeway frog (called Baby!). I went on Tinder dates (one of which was at a quaker yard sale marketed as Harvest Festival where I got a 1970s Kermit puppet for like $2) that largely went nowhere. My high school friend visited and we were both sad about break ups. I did Inktober before I went to New Orleans for a conference on Bourbon St where everything felt like it was coated in a sticky film of alcohol. I almost missed my flight home because I fell asleep in a sculpture garden but I had the most amazing Uber driver who snaked his way through traffic (oh and the flight was delayed by like 3 hours). I went to kind of embarrassing haunted houses and pumpkin patches over Halloween, but also had the most incredible bowl of ramen at Mensho. My whole office dressed up as Zootopia characters which warmed my furry heart. I spent like $120 on a Pokemon shirt. I started playing Arkham Horror and rekindled another friendship important to me. In November went on a road trip to Big Sur because again, I had to escape it all. For Christmas Eve dinner I roasted a duck for the first time (which was delicious). Shortly after I waited in line for 2 hours for a rollercoaster at Great America, which taught me the value of buying a fast pass because at this point in my life that money is worth it, and then waited 2 hours in line at the DMV to get a RealID (I had made an appointment, which was the fast pass).

Okay, now we move to the hobby section!

I got really into sewing in 2019, having received a sewing machine last Christmas. I made a Judy Hopps (which I wore to CrunchyRoll Expo) and Korok cosplay (Fanime), several unsuccessful garments, a crab bean bag, a dice bag, a fanny pack, and put hearts nipples on a jumpsuit.

Shows! I think I went to way fewer shows this year. The ones I can remember are Elephant Gym, Thom Yorke the night before I had an 8am flight, Carly Rae Jepsen over pride weekend (also, she is my #1 artist of the year, which makes a lot of sense given my emotional space), Mitski at Stern Grove, Capitol Hill Bloc Party (which was super lame, except for Lizzo, where I cried), and the National (which was a fucking surreal experience as they played on Stanford's campus, I was the only one within earshot of myself who knew the words to Crybaby Geeks, and then the white catalog moms came up to me after to thank me for singing the song).

I also started playing my own music! I started playing viola again for the first time in 7 years (lol) in both pop-up concerts with the Awesome Orchestra (one in Golden Gate Park, one at the Exploratorium) and a string quartet through my school. Sometimes I am filled with joy and delight. Other times interpersonal tensions run high and also I am very bad at being in tune. It's life.

Media! I really liked Mob Psycho 100 Season 2 and Beastars. I feel like those were the only notable anime I watched this year? I saw the Farewell three times--first in Seattle where I sobbed for like 1 hour after the movie, the second time with my parents, and the third where Awkwafina was present for a Q&A. I thought Parasite was incredible and Promare was OK. I have spent an unfortunately large amount of my time playing Pokemon Masters. I finally beat BOTW and completed my Pokedex in Shield like 2 weeks after getting the game.

Resolutions! In my draft of my 2018 end of year post (which I never polished and posted, sorry), I said my resolutions were 1. come out to my parents 2. draw enough to table at an anime con 3. be disciplined about paper reading and have a doc. I did none of these things!!! However, for 1, I feel like I am well equipped to have this conversation but am waiting for my sibling to do it first out of respect. 2 was just bad. I barely drew this year except for gifts. 3 was okay--I did have a large doc in the beginning of the year when I was looking for ideas, but as time went on I abandoned it (I also stopped reading papers, which I don't think you're supposed to do as a grad student...)

My resolutions this year are phrased as intentions (-(c) Matthew). They span several categories. Relationships: I want to open myself to and actively seek experiences of love, because I miss that. That being said, I will only date someone if 1. they have their life together 2. they love themselves and 3. they challenge me to grow. (I do think you can experience love without dating; the thing I'm after is love in an expansive sense.) Work: I want to do enough work so I don't feel guilty about not doing enough work, and also not berate myself for taking a long time to do things. Hobbies: I want to sew at least one thing a month. Chinese: I want to improve my Chinese, especially pronunciation.

Having written this 20 days into 2020, it's not been so bad so far. But I was also really happy in the beginning of 2019. Here's to no global maxima, a monotonically increasing year!

[savrenim]

To Stare Into Darkness: The Infestation Incident Of Black Lotus Labs

As Told By Four Letters Unsent, Three Letters Sent, And The Official Report Drafted By Acolyte Consecrate Iria Strell

For those of you who have been following the gay murder elf bachelorette campaign (official title, In Their Footsteps We Shall Follow) (or have not been following but have become interested considering the number of memes I've been spanning of Book 5 of it), it has the backstory and narrative crafting of a full series of novellas more than a DnD campaign, and the fourth book recently came to its magnificent conclusion. (hence the Book 5 memes). Which means, of course, that I have to write a novella about it.

gay murder elf bachelorette tells the story of Iria Strell, a Caedic elf and solid villain of this setting considering the Caedic Empire is an aggressively expansionist empire whose magic is fueled and religion is centered around blood sacrifice. It is equal parts Iria Strell being evil doin’ her cool evil things and Iria Strell falling in love with every pretty girl who crosses her path, so a lot of fun.

there exists a Book 2 and a Book 3 summary as well, if you haven’t read them either feel free to read them or just have fun here with context clues, this one stands alone pretty well and is a lot more readable than the others because I had to actually seriously think about what parts of it made a Good Story out of the....nearly 33 hours of recording that were made of the six chapters. and I think a Good Story did come out! so if you’re willing to stick with me, boy do I have a wild ride for you consisting of: friendship, gayness, twisted emotions of wondering if you’re good enough, coping with the slow loss of mobility from an old injury while adjusting to civilian life, mad science, more gayness, and the friends you make and bonds you forge while dealing with a surprise zombie-coral-crystal-parasite-fungus attack together at your mad science lab.

(tw very mild body horror-- third paragraph of the first (unsent) letter to Talvus, midway through second to last paragraph of the first (unsent) letter to Maldai Varricon, and third paragraph of the official report. also a mild amount of stabbing scattered throughout, but this came from DnD so what do you expect, and a large amount of stabbing in the final battle, which hopefully should be fairly obvious when it begins, also in the official report.)

_______________________

Dear Talvus,

There’s no way I’m going to send this letter, considering you disappeared without saying goodbye, let alone leaving a mailing address; but I’ve been stuck in bed for three days with a broken leg and am supposed to stay put for another two, which means I’ve really got nothing better to do than write.

So I left for Black Lotus Labs, in Insul. I work for the Department of the Craftsman now. I’m a junior researcher in Summer Division, which I was a little confused about at first, considering Winter Division is the Division doing all of the research regarding developments for the Army, but it immediately became very clear that I was assigned to Summer. I’m like a dragon amongst lizards—a scientist, not someone in the guard division, but who has active combat experience. The expedition that I was assigned to certainly was dangerous enough to merit that, hence the broken leg, although the fight with the dryad may have been the least dangerous part.

There’s something here called the Misery. It’s strange and fascinating—not magical in and of itself, we don’t think, just a stage in the life cycle of the moths. It starts out as a cloud of thick mist, although you can see the maggots on the trees before you get to the mist proper. The maggots materialize on color, and leech it away to a stark white. That’s why we had to wear these large, unwieldy full-body suits with a breathing apparatus and mask that filtered air through black cloth; otherwise, the maggots would form in our lungs. They eventually transform into moths, which eat flesh. Very unpleasant, but not particularly deadly, they don’t travel in large numbers and they die when you swat them same as normal moths.

But what the Misery was caused by—well, we call it the Catalyst. It was an artifact in some ancient temple; Talvus, the temple alone is something worthy of years of study. It had working magical wards in the walls and the floors, and it must have been abandoned for centuries. Think of what we could do if we could store spells in objects—powerful spells—that showed little to no decay, that activated on a trigger without needing a mage to activate them.

(I know, my motives are painfully clear. Can’t let the mages have all the fun. One day technology will catch up with you, just you wait.)

But the temple—two or so years back, an expedition found it, and they found the Catalyst in the center of it. They did something, and it exploded. Lux Maelius, our Senior Research Lead, and Ovir Arbutus, a Research Lead now but he was only a guard at the time—they were the only two survivors, because they were outside in a courtyard when it happened. So they managed to make it out. Then there was a hurricane of magical energy that raged for months, then it settled down into the Misery.

We set up makeshift labs in the heart of the Misery, near the ruins. We spent a few days studying it, running tests. I was able to figure out some things about Green magic and life magic that might be adaptable into better healing potions. Two researchers joined us partway—Vennikus, you remember her from when she visited us on the front?, and a friend of hers, Chaera Canth. I tried to jump in a little bit on some of the bugswarm intelligence projects Vennikus was doing, because it seemed slightly more exciting than staring at mist, but I was making more progress staring at mist so eventually I went back to that. This sort of research isn’t really my forte and I was thrown right in with barely an hour to drop my stuff off in my rooms before I was told the expedition was leaving, and I was informed about the Misery as we walked through it. It’s not like it was a waste of time, by any means. I did contribute some things. Suggest some experimental setups. But the real reason we were here became evident when Arbutus and Lux started arguing. Arbutus wanted us to bring the Catalyst out of the Misery, so that it could properly be studied. We took a vote on who would be willing to risk themselves to fetch it. I, of course, volunteered. I know she said why would you seek it, but, well, the Wolf said that to the both of us together and you weren’t here. Besides, it was Serae that was half blown off the map, not Insul.

So we went into the ruins and we set up another makeshift lab around the Catalyst. It is not particularly impressive in appearance: a large, dark, opaque crystal, perhaps the size and shape of a forearm, floating above the pedestal. More notable was how it felt, even to me, rooms away. Like something was just off. Like that twinge in your stomach right before you get nauseous, and it only got stronger the closer we got. And if that was my reaction, well, I’m sure you’d hate it. It has these sparks that seem to interact in my favorite way with life and magic and the stability of energy, namely, by exploding. We’ve tested it against leaves and small bugs—it will annihilate them completely. Felt a little bit dangerous to be doing all the tests considering we weren’t sure what made it explode into the Misery in the first place, but we managed to conclude “don’t let it touch living things and it won’t explode too much.” And we had to, in order to properly design the container to take it back. Arbutus argued and won that we couldn’t just leave it. We made a makeshift case and packed it up with the rest of our stuff to head back to the main labs.

The dryad attacked us a little bit after we got out of the Misery, so at least we could breathe properly again and had the suits half off. It made these golems that went for the carts, but we had three other ex-military folks of some kind or another on the expedition, so I left them to deal with that and leapt straight into the grove of trees and thorns that it summoned around itself, and then we just…fought it out. I was close, I was so close to taking it down. But it got a really good hit in that cracked my femur and then decided it wasn’t worth it and booked it, and delivering the Catalyst to Black Lotus Labs was more important than going after a single native resistance fighter. Although I still have no idea whether or not it was attacking us for the fun of attacking us, because we’re Caedic and this island has decided it hates all things Caedic, or if it actually knew something about the Catalyst. I tried asking it—her, maybe?—you know how chatty I get when fighting—but I’m pretty sure she didn’t speak our language, as all she did was scream incomprehensibly back at me. So now I’m here after my first successful week sitting around in the med bay with a philosophy book Vennikus brought me and some security reports and a couple of interesting research papers, killing time until I’m allowed up and about and back to the labs where I can start working on the healing potions and merging of Green magic and ritual magic properly.

Let’s see, what else is there. I’ve been making friends. There’s Arbutus, who first told me that I didn’t need to act all formal because we weren’t in as strict a hierarchy as the military when I gave him a whole rundown before the expedition about my combat abilities and drawbacks and what I’d be like in a fight because I let Silvanus down when we were attacked on the way from the ships to the labs by a satyr—Saren according to the report the guards here have on him—and these great terrible lizards called dinosaurs he had gathered, because I fainted when I shouldn’t have. After the fight where I kicked all their asses but, well. I still went down. So Silvanus has seen me faint but she was on the “let’s get the Catalyst” side and does seem to at least give me credit for my skills. She has a spear, she’s really cool. I’m still really gay. I think she thinks I’m cool. Please don’t make fun of my attention span. Anyways, Arbutus might be mad at me because a few days after his whole speech about there being no ranks here I gave a fairly impassioned rant in front of the whole expedition about how if we were going to bring the Catalyst out, we couldn’t bring it back to the labs, a separate bunker had to be made until we knew what made it explode or we’d be putting all the Empire’s research at risk, and he told me that first of all, I was right and they’d build a bunker, and second, okay there still kind of were ranks here and I should never speak to him like that again. 

Who else. Vennikus is here, and possibly flirting with me. She has a friend, as I mentioned, Canth, so hopefully that’ll go over fine, Canth seems to tolerate me without any problems. And I met Lia Bassus and Talia Aurelia on the ship over, Lia Bassus is trying to do magical transportation and so came with us into the Misery, and Talia’s working on this project that looks into other planes. As in entirely other realities superimposed over our own. There's this weird strange grey realm that she showed me, (perhaps the Arcane Other?), and though it was full daylight when she ran the experiment, through the window of the little room her team had cobbled together, I could see the distant stars of a different sky. Neither her nor Lia Bassus seemed particularly impressed by my altar when I mentioned it on the boat, so I’m pretty sure I’m not at all exceptional for what the expected level of creativity and craftsmanship is here. I guess I’ll be joining everyone for normal day-to-day research as soon as this leg heals.

I miss you, a lot. I hope you’re having just as much fun as me, wherever you are. Hopefully not with the broken leg. Still, totally worth it.

Love, Iria

———

Dear Talvus,

So I work in Winter Division now. Remember Galen Torus? The Exarch who was there when we were presenting the delayed explosive designs to Professor Acari? He showed up and requested me and just me for a special secret Winter Division project. And then promoted me to Senior Researcher on the spot because he was annoyed that I wasn’t being immediately given full access to things for the project because of my Junior Researcher status, which is one way to climb the ranks here, I guess.

There was this…mechanical contraption, found wrecked in the jungle. Some sort of war machine, we think. It looks like a humanoid—it has arms, and legs—but its interior entirely consists of clockwork. Galen and I have spent a few days examining it and nothing magical animated it. It’s just metal. But it moved and it fought and we’re going to figure out what made it tick.

He says that this work is of upmost importance to the Empire, and he’s stayed at the labs to work on it himself, but he still hasn’t pulled anyone but me for the project. I don’t know if it’s because it’s more efficient to work alone, or if the project is more secret than it appeared to be, or if I’m more useful at these kinds of things than I thought. Mechanics make sense to me.

I’ve been working as hard as I can to try not to disappoint him. I stay in the labs the entire day, except unlike you, I grab extra rations at breakfast so I can go through lunch without skipping the actual eating part. I hope that you’re remembering to eat.

Love, Iria

———

Dear Talvus,

So everything’s gone to shit, as it does.

It was just another normal day at the labs, and then the dryad and the satyr and a whole bunch of dinosaurs made the first actually organized attack. Galen and I were working on the construct when it happened. We heard it first. I had a prototype of a weapon from the construct that I was able to strap on in time for the first dinosaur that burst into the room, which at this point I was very efficient in dispatching of. Then the dryad that came after it, which I had a bit harder of a time dealing with. I fought it to a standstill, but it wasn't enough without a proper pair of weapons to gain any sort of upper hand, and all it took was a stumble for the thing to slip past me and attack Galen. I stared in horror as blood spurted from him and he was pushed backwards—only he didn't fall, and the blood didn't flow, it condensed into the shape of a sword and he flicked it out and it cut with no resistance through a large portion of the dryad's hand. She stepped back, in shock, and then turned and fled. Galen turned to me, his back straight, his face hard, his eyes bright. He tossed me the sword. I caught it.

"Finish it," he said.

I grinned and turned to chase the thing.

The rest was...it was both crystal clear and a blur to me, Talvus. I've never gone so deep, so cold, there was something bubbling inside of me like some sort of rage, a perfect insanity. The only thing that remained in my mind were Galen Torus's orders, echoing, Finish it. I know that this sounds like...like there was some sort of compulsion associated with those words, but there wasn't. It's just—he's been this untouchable, unreachable figure. I've worked with him day in and day out for over a month and I haven't been able to get any sort of read on him, or on whether he thinks my work has at all been adequate. I was so ready, Talvus. I was so ready to be responsible, to stay and guard the construct, to admit that it was no longer my role to bring enemies of the Empire to the sharp end of my blade. But in my heart of hearts, I wanted to fight. And there was Galen Torus, showing the closest thing I had seen to an emotion from him in the vicious tilt of his smile, throwing me a sword made of his own blood and ordering me to do the one thing that I wanted to do more than anything else.

In that moment, I would have done anything for him.

I tore through two—maybe three?—of the smaller raptors sprinting along the destruction the dryad had left in its wake. They barely slowed me down. I was getting to a part of the facility that I was unfamiliar with. The dryad's path led to a larger open room with cots, almost like a medical bay, which was strange, because there already was a medical bay and not really enough people getting hurt here day to day to need another. Some guards were off in one corner fighting off more dinosaurs. The dryad was in the other corner, and I lurched forwards, ready to Finish it, when someone in Senior Research Lead robes and a cane got absolutely mauled by one of the larger dinosaurs across the other entrance. I absolutely would not have cared, except with one motion of his hand he magicked his guts back together, finished speedwalking across the room, threw healing on me (which in hindsight, was much appreciated), then wheezed, "I trust from the look on your face that you're rather more of a fighter than I am. I'm going to stand behind you now, if you don't mind."

I absolutely did mind, there was now a very large dinosaur between me and my intended target, but it seemed rude to abandon the Senior Research Lead right after he'd healed me, and besides, the combination of his rank and the power he'd so casually wielded made me think that there was a slight chance that he was an Exarch too, and I couldn't risk disobeying an Exarch's orders. So I tore through the dinosaur in four angry hits, and then as there were no more dinosaurs on my side of the room, abandoned the maybe-Exarch in the corner and finally closed the last of the distance to attack the dryad.

It was a difficult fight. But it—she—could not stand against me now that I was properly armed, and certainly not with the maybe-Exarch throwing magic of every kind at me to strengthen me as I cut her to pieces. And then, as I could still feel that strength roaring in my blood, I caught sight of the satyr Saren halfway up the wall on the other side of the room and just charged him. I had to jump, leveraging myself up a wall to reach him and I plunged the sword into his gut, impaling him. He lost his grip on the wall and the two of us slammed into the ground, driving my—Galen's—blade even deeper into him. He pushed up, scrambled back, tried to run away, and had his back to me, a cowardly death, as I whipped Galen's sword around again and decapitated him. It gets a bit hazy after. I'm pretty sure I charged the remaining live dinosaurs across the room, but at that point I'd put Bishops know how much strain on my injury, and I blacked out.

I awoke in the same room, on one of the cots, with the Senior Research Lead standing over me. Up close I could see he was nowhere near as old as I'd assumed; the cane was some sort of tool of the trade. Looking at his face, he couldn't be much older than you.

He spoke first.

"I must say, you might be the best person to hide behind in a fight that I've ever met. It doesn't really take much hiding when everything goes down in a spray of blood in a matter of seconds."

I wasn't quite sure what to say back, so I just replied, "Happy to be of service."

"You should be fine to stand. I've fixed all your injuries, and that old wound, well, your muscles have cleared for the moment. It's been long enough that they've unlocked."

His robes were still in tatters, and there were bodies of guards and dinosaurs still in the room, so not much time could have passed. His wounds were totally healed, although with his robes in pieces instead of buttoned up higher than most people around here wear them, a huge, roughly circular scar across his throat was visible, which would explain the wheeze. He helped me up.

"What's your name?" he said.

"Iria Strell," I said. It felt weird to introduce myself without rank, but what was I supposed to say? My robes denoted me as Senior Researcher. Consecrated Acolyte—right, Galen Torus consecrated me, I guess he decided that I'd done enough work—still, Consecrated Acolyte didn't really seem to apply, we didn't really...go by clergy rank here. Even though it's been months since we left the Army, I settled with, "I was a Corporal Specialist before here." I guess old habits die hard.

He wasn't wearing enough jewelry for me to judge where in the nobility he would lie, and the Black Lotus Labs uniforms don't include pips on the collars, so I had no idea where in the clergy he ranked, but he was wearing gold, so he was nobility, which meant no matter what I was bowing, and he'd been throwing around a ridiculous amount of power so even if he was too young to be an Exarch, well—he'd totally saved my hide, so I went with the deepest waist bow. I know you don't care, but then he said:

"Qaedius Galseii."

Galseii.

I had nearly snubbed someone Bishop family and had just... luckily guessed that I should do the most respectful possible bow that someone from my station would give someone from a station above me because he'd been good at healing and I didn't recognize that he was Bishop family and just. Thank the Bishops, Talvus, I nearly snubbed a Galseii, I know you really really couldn't care less but that moment was more terrifying to me than the entirety of the fight had been, in an instant of ignorance I could have made enemies of someone who now I think has a great deal of professional respect for me from the abilities that I demonstrated and I didn't because I was lucky enough to guess that hey, maybe I should show more respect than might be necessary to someone with such powerful magic. Well. It was really fucking necessary.

(We've actually been professional acquaintances since, I made the mistake in our second interaction when he politely asked me about how I was and I thought he meant my research not how I was healing and I got overly excited when delving into an explanation of the mechanics of the hand razors, because the hand razors are cool! which he shut down with an "oh just because I'm personal with my patients as my patients doesn't mean we should be overly familiar in any other context" and I just wanted to die but I held my tongue and apologized at the end of the conversation with a "sorry I just get super excited about research" and I think he indicated that he understood and Talvus, it is a snakepit ever having to interact with any other noble ever. I'm bad at this. I'm bad at it and I hate it. But at least I don't think I messed this one up. And either way, I'm still the best person to hide behind in a fight that he's ever met. Haven't lost that yet.)

But anyways. Woke up in the cot, not dead. Qaedius continued, "And, well, I don't know what lab policy regarding this information is going to be going forward, but now that you're conscious, it's probably best if you left Spring Division."

Which I suppose answered the question of where I was. We have a secret Spring Division, not just Summer, Autumn, and Winter. How fun is that!

Things have settled down again. I couldn't move at all the next day because of the strain I'd put on my injury, but the day after I was walking again. I went back to research with Galen. Well, of course, because I couldn’t not, I asked Galen as politely as I could where he learned to make a sword like that from his blood and where I might try to learn it because I would never assume that I could ask him to teach me but maybe if I knew where I could study it I could figure it out on my own. He said it was a technique that only he and the person who developed it—a mysterious her—knew, so it wasn’t something I’d be able to learn or find easily. I thought it that was that, and then I came the next morning to find him clearing tools off of tables. I was worried for a moment that our project had ended; I asked if he was leaving, and he said no, this was maybe the most important work we could be doing for the Empire, just that he needed the space if he was going to teach me. Which just flabbergasted me of what, I was worth an hour off of the most important work we could be doing for the Empire? We’ve been practicing ever since. It’s hard, I can barely make my blood take a shape, let alone reach the metallization stage, but maybe one day I’ll be able to make a sword out of my own blood. Never catch me unarmed at a party again.

And now things are back to normal around here. The rhythms of research. Spring Division, which was entirely secret, has been joining us in the mess hall considering most to all of their buildings were destroyed, and now they’re somewhat less secret but we’re all quietly pretending we don’t notice for the time being and until someone higher up decides what to do about the whole involuntarily declassified thing. I’m working with Galen every day on the construct. Qaedius usually sits with me at meals. As I said, professional acquaintance, but an acquaintance enough that I can talk about my research sometimes because he's actually sitting with me and that is the only thing that is discussed at tables because we're all nerds. Vennikus thought that it was very impressive that I fought as well as I did. She always sits with me. It’s fine. Everything is fine. I wish it were fine.

It took me a day before I could walk again, Talvus. I couldn’t get up the morning after. I can walk again now but it feels worse. Like something in my back has torn. All I can think of is there’s going to be a fight that’s going to be the last time I’m able to fight in any serious capacity, I don’t know when it’s going to be, I’m probably not going to know until after the fact, I just…it feels like I should be weighing every battle I go into with an “is this worth it, is this worthy of being the very last time I’m ever able to fight,” and under that scrutiny a dryad and a satyr that the guard could have dealt with themselves—I don’t know if it was worth it. I don’t want this to be the last time I ever fight. That Galen is wasting his time on me teaching my how to shape my blood into a weapon because how much longer am I going to be able to use weapons? What would you do, if you knew that every spell that you cast might be the last needle you had the power left to thread? How would you…stay you? How do I stay me when the one thing that I was really good at, the one thing that I ever really wanted to do, is not only irresponsible for me to keep doing, but one day it’s just…going to be gone. I don’t know if I can handle it being gone.

I’ve been doing some pretty fantastic science, though. I keep developing things. The hand razors I mentioned. Qaedius didn’t think it was cool. You probably wouldn’t care much either, but the mechanical contraption we found, it had weapons hidden in its arms. I’ve been able to make modifications to these bracers with hidden blades in them, combat spurs that I can use for interception and different vectors of movement. It’s…it feels like hope. This thing has to move so much differently than we move, it weighs so much more, but if I can adapt bits of its structure, maybe I can come up with a different fighting style. One that I’d be able to keep at, even as more and more bits of me start to fail. There are all the official parts of my projects that I’m working on. Trying to make mechanical magic and all that. But I can keep hoping for an entirely new way of approaching combat in the spare time that I have.

I bet Lex will think that my hand razors are cool. He actually answers my letters. He actually told me where to send letters in the first place. You better not be dead.

Love, Iria

———

To Vilum Lex Department of the Doctor Veteris

Dear Lex,

You’ll never guess who showed up out of the blue today. Our mage friend. The big dummy, he didn’t warn me he was coming, I don’t even think he knew I was here. I still missed him so much that I can’t  be mad at him. I totally rescued him from some raptors before he even got to the lab proper, so things are back to normal. Just as stressful sitting next to him wondering who he’s going to terribly offend today, although he’s high up enough in the pecking order that I no longer have to worry about him getting in too much trouble for it. And he’s doing what he always does. He immediately jumped onto Talia’s project just hearing it described at lunch—still partially bleeding from wildlife ambush wounds, mind you, but hey, at least he was eating lunch—elbowed his way in past the project supervisor to run his own test and impressed absolutely everyone by pulling a breakthrough out of thin air. And didn’t get in trouble because it was such a great breakthrough. It’s like something has been righted in the world, I can breathe freely again, I know that he’s alive and well and still…him, and he’s back next to me.

So you’ve got to take my side on this, you appreciate sharp pointy things. I have made these absolutely revolutionary bracers that look perfectly normal, you could probably even get them to look decorative, I’m working on a new pair with lined backsides so you can’t even immediately tell if someone takes them off to examine them what the payload is, and all it takes is a directed wrist gesture and out pops a concealed, specially sharpened blade. No one here cares. And then our mutual mage friend got here and he also could not see the appeal of it other than oh, another sharp thing! Like, does he have any idea how much work went into miniaturizing the mechanical contraption to get that all to fit in a bracer? And the spring-loading, in a manner that you don’t have to take it apart to re-load it? And the way you have to temper the metal so that it’s just as strong as a conventional blade, and the attachment mechanisms of the bracer have to be such that it’s just as steady as if it were something that’s being held the way you hold weapons, which let me tell you, was a non-trivial problem to solve. And did I mention I came up with a new sharpening technique? Which I’ve been applying to everything, including the hand razor blade. That’s cool, right, and useful? It’s already saved my life once because the corridors here are too small for it to be reasonable for me to carry around a pair of scimitars all the time, but bracers are easy to just wear and don’t interfere with range of motion when doing research and anyone who thinks I’m paranoid can tell that to the trail of dead dinosaurs and Fae I’ve been carving through here. But you think they’re cool, right? Please tell me you think it’s cool. I am surrounded by scientists who only appreciate things that stab when it’s all that’s between them and toothy death, but it is objectively cool. I will show you my new knife-sharpening technique if you tell me you think it’s cool.

Unfortunately, Vennikus and I haven’t gotten any further in testing the health potion, but I do think it’s still an active project? I’d have to check with her, I’ve been moved to another division. Actually, I’ve been working on another project that might eventually make its way to the Department of the Doctor, there are these mechanical seals that are a bit hard to prepare, but once you’ve got them prepped it’s foolproof, slap them on a wound and they’ll automatically deploy: it’ll both physically bind to the body and act as a bandage, as well as it imparts magical healing. I haven’t had time to test them in the field yet but I’m pretty proud of them, they’ve worked in all the lab trials I’ve run. I’m working to try to develop them further, make them easier to store, easier to prepare, less expensive to prepare, that sort of things. Right now the design includes rubies, and I don’t think there’s an easy way to get rid of that without disrupting the energy flow of the whole thing, but, of course, that’s a significant barrier to mass production. If you have any ideas, I’m all ears.

I hope things have continued going well for you. Let me know if there’s any interesting Capital gossip. It’s all very quiet here, everyone is extremely friendly and gets along with no drama whatsoever, because drama would be a distraction from research; which is great, it means no petty fighting that gets in the way of progress, but I hate being out of the loop. I spent three years in the Army being out of the loop, I have so much catching up to do.

With sincerity, Iria Strell

———

To Celsus Strell The Strell Estate Veteris

Dear Celsus,

I refuse to fall out of contact with you just weeks after I finally got to see you again. Black Lotus Labs is a touch far for visiting, and I’m doing such important work here so I’m not sure the next time I’m going to be home—which means letters it is. I’m a Senior Researcher already. And a Consecrated Acolyte. I am doing absolutely fascinating research here, a lot with military applications, because of course, that’s my specialty, but we’re not really supposed to talk about research much.

But by the Bishops you would not believe how much drama has been going down.

So there’s a researcher here—well, I guess technically she’s an Instigator, she is in charge of starting new projects, she was a Senior Researcher when I met her out when I was in the Army—there was a Fae font that we discovered while mapping out land near the Surrian border, and she came to take samples, and we hit it off, killed a Fae construct together, and I made a joke about if she had any more potions that she wanted to test in the field, well, I’d be happy to test them for her because she gave me a really cool potion that let me shoot fire from my eyes while we fought the thing and then even though it was totally a joke and that was not a good week for trying to get Arcadia to laugh at my jokes, anyways I joked that if she had any other potions I was happy to be a test subject and she just…handed me another potion she’d been working on and said yeah great I should write and tell her what it does. So I guess it did kind of fall flat. The joke. The potion worked great, it helped me and Talvus get a lot less injured than we might have when we were ambushed by a party of Rat Clan orcs coming back from the Highlands. Anyways, I wrote to her and she wrote back and I wrote to her again and she sent me this really cool beetle that let me see magic that was absolutely instrumental in trying to test my altar designs and she was just a really good friend, so I was excited that I was going to be at Black Lotus Labs because even if everything else was horrible, at least I was going to have one friend here, right? Vennikus Callo, my brand new friend. Right?

Wrong.

Well sort of right, I’m pretty sure we are friends, she was waiting by my bedside for me to wake up after I broke my leg in a fight with a dryad and she lent me her favorite philosophy book to read so that we could talk about philosophy together and she’d said that she was really glad that I was a researcher even though she originally thought I was here as a guard because she thought I was smart and could do a lot of good doing research here and she was actively nice to me in all of our written exchanges before I got here, like, really really nice, she didn’t have to be, I was just the soldier that led her to the Fae font and did my job of stabbing the thing that tried to attack her and nothing remarkable beyond that. And then here I was an entry-level scientist with absolutely no background in magic or higher schooling, and she still finds me interesting and wants to spend time with me. Which makes us friends. I think. It’s sometimes so hard to tell, I guess I still have trouble trusting if people really are my friend. But I’m pretty sure that Vennikus Callo is my friend. Actually, I think people don’t really make friends too much here, they don’t tend to socialize out of their research groups, but I’ve been pulling anyone and everyone who wants to come to morning practice to either spar with me or I’ll teach them how to spar—so I’ve gathered Talia Aurelia, whom I met on the ship ride over and has been a morning practice and mealtime buddy ever since, Vennikus, of course, Alexis Corinthian, who is great and ex-Army so by default the most reliable to spar with—and then the breakfast table is sometimes joined by Chaera Canth and some friends from another department, which I think means that my table is the single most cross-divisional table in the mess hall. It’s a really great table. Plenty of friendly acquaintances to go around for everyone.

Anyways. Vennikus Callo. I don’t know how to describe her to you. She’s really sharp, and has an incredible wit. Her memory is insane, she can recite entire passages from books and I’ve seen her listen to information being recited at her and have it down all in one go. She’s really good at fighting, she practices with me sometimes, and she’s holding back, I can tell. Maybe not a trained soldier, but she’s fast. And she just…holds herself with this poise. She conducts herself in a manner around the labs that seems…approachable. Amiable. Easy to work with. But there are tiny bits and places where you can tell that is a conscious choice, that she would have no trouble navigating the highest circles of nobility; I suppose she just does not see it necessary, or perhaps not efficient, to run a lab like that. She is an incredible project manager. She’s actually made a couple of jokes about starting projects in areas that I have expressed interest in, which on the one hand I do think they would be interesting projects but on the other hand I was too busy at the time to jump on anything else, and it felt a little bit like trying to use my friendship to get an advantage, which, also, while she technically wasn’t my personal supervisor when I was in Summer Division—that was kind of Canth, we were partners on a project but I was the Junior and she was the Senior Researcher—but she was still kind of my superior. Although there totally was a time where I had just figured out this way to combine Caedic blood magic and Green magic in this ritual that drained the life force from a plant and then could be used for various things and we were all talking about it at dinner and she seemed really really interested in it and I was like “listen, why don’t I show you, it’s only half an hour or so” and she was like “right now? after dinner?” and I was like “unless you have evening plans?” because there are usually a few hours after dinner before sleeping and people don’t always go back to their labs and she said great and we finished eating dinner and were heading out of the mess hall and she was like “sooooo….my room?” and I was like “oh does your room have plants in it? because we need a plant?” and we just. stared at each other for a moment. As I realized that I was a fucking idiot and Vennikus was definitely interested in me and I’d just been propositioned to and Vennikus realized that I had been 100% serious about just showing her the plant thing and hadn’t been propositioning to her. And it was terrible and before I could say “your room is also fine” she said “right, we should probably do the lab.” Which she also really was interested in the plant thing, we went to the lab, she only had to see me do it once before she was able to reproduce it herself which was pretty incredible and it was definitely not an evening wasted, we both had fun.

So I ended up transferring to another division and for a while I was taking meals in the mess hall less, like, just grabbing food at breakfast to take me through lunch and then a late dinner from the kitchens, which meant we were only really seeing each other at morning practices, I hold those before breakfast. Still can’t shake that Army scheduling of rising with the sun. Anyways, so Vennikus was coming to a number of those, and there was a blood magic thing that my….supervisor? mentor, maybe? —okay this is a total aside, but there’s an Exarch who took interest in me during the Trials at first because of a delayed explosive that Talvus and I developed but then he said that he looked forward to what I was going to do with my altar so I had to do something cool with my altar which was most of the reason why instead of just trying to design a functional altar I designed an altar with bronze needles physically threaded with blood that could cast arcane magic—and I’m pretty sure that he was the one who got me the job at Black Lotus Labs. Apparently it’s not that common around here to get recruited directly after passing the Trials. I guess I showed enough promise? He also had me transferred from Summer division because there was a project he wanted me working on and I’ve been working under him and it’s—it’s great. I’m doing so much more here than I was doing before. It’s just the two of us on this project, and we’ve made so much progress. I couldn’t be more exhilarated. I am serving the Empire here possibly more meaningfully than I have served anywhere else in the entirety of my life, and that’s what matters, you know? I just can’t help but feel that I owe everything in my career to this Exarch. I wouldn’t have done anything special with my altar if it weren’t for him encouraging me, I wouldn’t be here at Black Lotus Labs if I hadn’t been noticed by the Department of the Craftsman for that even if he didn’t specifically recommend me for the job, he was the impetus behind the altar and that had to be what got me noticed. And I was…mediocre at best in my previous division. And now I’ve been promoted to a Senior Researcher and I’m working on something that I’m really, really good at but I wouldn’t have been pulled for this project if he hadn’t specifically pulled me. At least in the Army with Varricon once it became obvious that they were going to keep me in their unit, well—Maldai was Dad’s friend. And I knew what they were training me for, to be a tactician, to continue a career in the Army. I have no idea what this Exarch has singled me out for, or if I’ve even been singled out as much as it was just I was the person at the facility who had the most relevant skillset and was working on the least important things and none of it is supposed to mean anything. But it still sort of feels like he’s mentoring me. Let’s stick with my supervisor because it’s safer and that bit I’m sure about. So— there was a piece of blood magic that my supervisor gave me to practice, mostly to build up my skills because I’m not particularly experienced in that regard, and I was just getting up a quarter of an hour early to practice exercises on that before morning practice. And Vennikus, who didn’t always come to morning practice, did start coming to those because she’s good at blood magic because she’s good at everything and just. She was there to give me tips and spot me, I guess, make sure I didn’t mess up horribly and hurt myself. I was using my own blood, after all. Anyways it was just one morning like any other and we were going through the exercises and Vennikus said, “Hey. Strell. We should hook up.”

And so of course my concentration breaks and there’s blood on the floor and I tried to play it all cool and I think I said something like, “Yeah, sounds good to me.”

And then she maybe said “Great” back and all I could think of was how utterly ridiculous and not suave I was sounding so I tried to re-gain control of the situation by, like, leaning back against the wall to look cool and I tried to say “your room or mine?” except my blood was still on my floor and it was slippery and I definitely slipped in it and fell flat on my ass. And she just. Came over and looked at me. And said “you know, if I weren’t already decided on the matter, you wouldn’t be doing a very good job at convincing me right now.” And I just sat there gaping in a pile of my own blood until Talia came in the room for morning practice and Talia was like “what happened?” and I was just. Still staring after Vennikus and had a moment of oh shit, what do I do, because I had no idea how public Vennikus wanted to be, and I had no idea what Talia’s feelings for me were either, like, I think I’m her closest friend? Outside of my morning practice and thus meal group, I don’t really see her interacting much with anyone? and I wasn’t really sure what my feelings for her were because, like. She’s a really sweet person. A bit shy. Really passionate about her work. And we’d gotten close. Just, I knew Vennikus and I knew I really liked Vennikus and Vennikus just…has this way of being so bright and sharp and multifaceted and makes everyone look graywashed in her wake. But also I…my feelings towards Vennikus weren’t really the romantic sort? Just. She was someone who was already my friend. And I already liked. And she is really really hot.

So I didn’t want to hurt Talia’s feelings but I also didn’t want to lie to Talia, you know? So I just kind of. Kept staring after where Vennikus had left, and then finally got out, “it’s fine, I’m just a gay mess” because that was vague enough that it didn’t actually pin anything to Vennikus if she didn’t want to be associated with me but it was also entirely the truth. And Talia stared at me, and then turned and looked to the corridor Vennikus had gone down, and then turned to me again, and said, “Oh,” and I really couldn’t read the expression on her face but at least she didn’t look….actively upset? And then we just continued morning practice and it was fine.

Oh, the answer was Vennikus’s room, which led to my second big question of so am I supposed to dress up and try at all to look pretty, or do I just go right after I get out of the lab in my uniform and not care? And I was really torn because I have been given solid advice from several sources that I should really try harder to actually look like a noble and bother caring about my appearance, but also, we were all really busy researchers and was Vennikus going to care whether or not I bothered to waste my time and hers trying to put on makeup and I decided screw it, Vennikus had known me for a few months, she knew what a complete mess I was and what she was getting into and if I thought a little bit of eyeliner was going to change her opinion now, I was definitely being stupid, and that the wasted time bit would have been a bigger insult. Which, thank Bishops, was finally something that I was right about, this wasn’t a “put on something a little bit pretty after work and we’ll go on as best a date as we can make happen” thing, she’d already changed into her nightwear, it was a fling, pure and simple. And that bit I can do. Behind-closed-doors flings seem to be my specialty.

And then, just through—bits of conversation, I guess, who’s passing who in hallways, allusions, maybe just instinct—over the two weeks, I became almost positive that Vennikus was also seeing Chaera Canth.

So Chaera Canth. I met Canth on my first week, when I was working on a project out in the field and Vennikus and Canth came to join a few days in. She and Vennikus seemed pretty close? They had exactly the sort of “why are you doing this dangerous thing” “because I’m me? next” dynamic that you only get when you are actually legitimately fond of someone. So I figured that Canth and Vennikus were at the very least pretty good friends if Canth was watching out for her like that, and I really didn’t want the same thing to happen with her that happened between me and Impera Casque during the Trials—namely, Impera Casque decided the moment that I met her that she absolutely loathed me and everything I did, and I’m still not sure why, because I didn’t get up and leave when she and Helena sat at my table or something?—anyways, if Canth and Vennikus were already friends I wanted to make sure that I was playing nice with Canth so that I didn’t have a co-worker who hated my guts next to someone that I was trying to spend time with. And then we were assigned to work on the same project about the connections between Caedic magic and Green magic and we were cooperating just fine as co-heads and I genuinely liked working with her. I invited her to my morning practices when it looked like we were trying to develop a combat application for one of the things we were working on, and she has the background of a ritualist and cleric, not that of a warrior, and so she had been showing up to those every once in a while. She was pretty good, too. And she was one of the regulars at my table during mealtimes. And she’d sometimes catch me and pass on messages to me after morning practice even when she didn’t come when I was hurrying off to get a head start on research skipping breakfast, because that’s the sort of reliable, solid person she is, who would look out for her colleagues. But anyways. We worked together for a while. She apparently really liked my altar design for Craftsman, we had a conversation one morning in our lab with her slamming down papers in front of me and going “Strell, what is this!” and I was really terrified for a moment and this was before Vennikus so I didn’t even know what I did to make her mad except maybe flirt terribly too much and then realized that it was just notes on my altar from the Trials and I kind of shrugged and went “my altar?” and she was all “why didn’t you tell me?” and I shrugged again mostly because everyone here had been working on things and didn’t really seem to care so I didn’t think she’d find it interesting and she went “how did you even do this it’s impossible” and I was like “because I didn’t know enough about arcane or ritual theory to know it was supposed to be impossible?” and she laughed and knocked me on the shoulder and said okay, fair, that was how a lot of discoveries were made, and I really thought we were friends. Think we are friends. I still do. Think that, I mean.

But she’s a good person. She’s a fantastic researcher and an accomplished ritualist and genuinely considerate and at this point it really wasn’t “I want to suck up to Vennikus’s friends so that I can spend time with Vennikus without it being awkward” anymore, I really liked her. And she and Vennikus clearly knew each other and clearly had history from well before I came into the picture even though I definitely did not know that they were seeing each other when I started seeing Vennikus and it was one thing if casual flings were the sort of thing that happened at Black Lotus Labs, I was fine with that, but if it wasn’t—I didn’t want to ruin a long-term serious relationship that Vennikus had if she was serious about Canth and Canth didn’t know about me, but also, I couldn’t help Vennikus cheat on someone who was a genuinely good person, which means I had to try to track down Canth and see if I could…subtly ask, or something?

Celsus I am so bad at subtle. I regret so much skipping out on those tutors that Mom and Dad got for us about polite interactions, because maybe I would have figured out how to be even slightly subtle. Of, you know, tracking down someone out of the blue in a corridor that definitely wasn’t in my segment of the labs to ask “soooo how are you doing” like it was just normal smalltalk and I hadn’t obviously tracked her down for something instead of catching her at or before breakfast and when that only got a “fine,” to “sooooo how have things been going in the division” to which I got a quick update on how the research projects were going fine to “soooo how is everyone doing?” which still didn’t get me the answer of whether or not she and Vennikus were a thing or a thing-thing and at this point I’d already made a scene so I just kind of went “so, you and Vennikus?”

To which she said, “Oh, Vennikus didn’t tell you about it yet? I thought she had weeks ago. Yeah, don’t worry.” I think. Might have been worded slightly differently. That gist got across. I was already retreating (okay, fine, running away) down the hallway blurting something along the lines of “ohgreatthankBishopsIjustwantedtomakesureIwasn’thelpingcheatonyou”. Which also probably was the worst thing to say. I have stared death in the face multiple times and I don’t think any of that was as terrifying as the moment before Chaera answered that question when she was just. Staring at me. Slightly quizzically. And I had no idea whether or not I had just detonated the biggest interpersonal bomb the labs and ever seen and was about to ruin absolutely everything within the tentative web of friendships I had formed or if it was all okay and turns out it was all even more okay than I thought, she knew about us from the start.

So anyways. I think me and Canth are still friends. She’s been acting like we’re still friends. The same table of us all usually get meals together. Nothing has changed, me and Vennikus are still seeing each other and it’s still great. Quite frankly Vennikus might have actually been dropping hints on purpose of “this is not an exclusive thing, I’m seeing Canth too, you get it, right?” and I accidentally signaled that I got it but it just went completely over my head because I’m so new to this. Big exciting false alarm. I wonder if Talia and Alexis think that I’m flirting with them still. Honestly just Vennikus is enough in terms of sheer time management, there’s just so much work to be done with our research. But yeah. Me and Vennikus Callo. Score for Iria Strell. Well. More score for Vennikus Callo, I was pretty useless in the entire process.

Don’t tell Mom and Dad, or rather, specifically, don’t tell Grandmother, I don’t want her getting any sort of expectations that I’ve been forging some sort of web of social connections or Bishops forbid any ideas about me marrying up. It’s just so nice to have friends my age again. I had Talvus in the Army, but Talvus was Talvus and my best friend and that’s never going to change, but is also a guy, and even if it wouldn’t be weird to like Talvus in all his Talvusness I don’t think I like guys in that way, and here I am surrounded by a group of like-minded geniuses who do the coolest science, are down to give morning defense practices a try, even if I’m teaching more than sparring with half of them, and are also all so pretty. So pretty. It’s great. I would happily spend the rest of my life here, if it’s how I can best contribute to the Empire. I guess I had Arcadia in the Army too. I have no idea what we are to each other. Did any letters from her arrive for me at the family estate?

Anyways, I know it probably sounds like I haven’t been getting a lot of work done, but I assure you, I have been making a lot of fantastic progress on a lot of fronts and I will do our family proud. I should probably get back to said work, I feel like I’m on the cusp of a huge breakthrough. Although it’s all so new and exciting that everything is the cusp of a huge breakthrough. I hope that your work has been exciting and fulfilling as well.

Love, your sister, Iria

———

Dear Maldai,

I've been working at Black Lotus Labs, for the Department of the Craftsman. I mean, I guess you know that I've been working here. Or at least as much as I could tell you in my last letter. The letter that I actually sent. Or I guess that actually reached you. I know that I cannot send this letter for a lot of reasons, but I wanted to write it all down, before I forget a single detail.

I met the Bishop Lucan.

There was a fairly serious attack—a dryad and a satyr stirring up some local forces—and I played an instrumental role in fending it off, I killed a number of their forces then both of them—but the damage to the facility had been enough that the Department of the Architect was taking personal interest in helping us rebuild. There were rumors that the Bishop was coming. And then one morning there were rumors that She had arrived. I made sure that I was wearing the best clothes that I had, but more than that, what do you do when there is the chance that you might run into a Bishop in the hallways of your workplace? Prostrate yourself on the floor solidly out of the way when She is walking down an adjacent hallway turned out to be the answer.

(Talvus…tried to copy some of Her needle design. While She was still in the hallway. She paused for a moment and I thought we were both going to die having utterly disgraced ourselves and our names because Talvus couldn’t keep it together for one minute when we were passing one of the Eleven Bishops and then She kept walking.)

The morning went much of the same way, Galen and I continued working on the research we had been working on, which at this point I had managed to develop mechanical wands that mages could store simple spells in. After an hour or so, he sent me away. I went to make myself useful in Summer Division, as I knew my way around their main labs, and I kept myself busy for another hour. Then there was a message spell, red light and Galen Torus's voice, telling me to return to our lab.

I could feel it before I got there, radiating through the door, the air, my veins. The Bishop Lucan — She was there. I had been ordered to enter, so I entered. She was sitting in a throne-like seat woven of red light, the same needles that had been around Her that Talvus had tried to copy, I couldn't — not that I would try to look at Her, but I couldn't see Her, couldn't see any more than a silhouette and the raw radiating power.

Galen was standing off to one side. I dropped prostrate on the ground, and then She — She looked at me.

It was like my mind, my soul, my self was a knot and there was a tug and it unraveled. Every — every memory, every smallest aspect of me laid bare, there wasn't even a me anymore and I could feel Her looking through it. I do not know how much time passed. It stopped rather abruptly. I was still on the floor, trembling. I could tell that She and Galen Torus were exchanging words, but I couldn't catch what the words were. I saw Galen Torus walk over to our workbench, and put the prototype of my — our — mechanical wand down. He turned back to Her.

Everything snapped and I was — I was more myself again.

The voice resounded, thrumming, around me, inside me, everywhere.

"A promising project."

Then She rose and the throne unravelled, shifting and fading into the larger network of Her magic that Talvus said had been suppressing Her full power and who-knows-what-else, and She moved past my prone form and out of the lab.

I met the Bishop Lucan, She looked at my mechanical wands, and She said "a promising project."

I—I knew that I was in over my head, working with Galen Torus. I knew that—that the project I was working on was of vital interest to the Empire. I knew how lucky I was to have caught the attention of someone so important, to work on something so important. But everyone here is doing important things. Talvus is the one—Talvus always was the one—who knew how to do important things, who was supposed to be doing the important clever things. I was supposed to be in the Army, training to maybe be a Captain, maybe a Legionary Captain one day. I was learning to be a Captain one day. This is—it's so beyond anything I ever thought I'd be doing, and while the politics are beyond me, the science, it seems, is not. I'm good at this. I'm as good at this as I ever was at tactics. Maybe not as good as I was at fighting, but a Captain can't decide that the solution to a tactical situation is that they go and fight the entire enemy army themselves because they're the best fighter and I—I guess I never really learned not to do that. So maybe I wouldn't have made a good Captain. Maybe it's better that I'm here now, working on science, technology, weapons for the Army to deploy. Galen Torus is still the mastermind behind this project, and I might not be a soldier anymore, but I know how to be a good specialist, a good tool, I know how to be wielded to do incredible things. And I can't say that it's mine, but some of it was mine. Some of it came from the delayed explosives Talvus and I developed in the Highlands. And not just the wands. The Arcanum cannons. We've—I've—successfully adapted it, created our own. The Rose Gun, we call it. Lined with rose gold. It's smaller, more compact than the Surrian Arcanum Cannons were. Enough that one strong soldier alone could carry it. The payload is not quite as powerful, I'm not sure if we'll ever make it quite as powerful, we're still in the most preliminary of testing stages—but the tactical applications are entirely different. This doesn't need to be planted on top of a hill on a battlefield and defended because it's too large to move. This—this is far more versatile.

There's a part of me that's just waiting for another disaster to happen. Talvus is here too, which means—well, you never got the letter, where I told you about the Wolf of Ears Eyes and Hands, or what she said. How scared she was of us, and not for killing her. I don't think there's anything related to anything she saw here, nothing matches any of the charcoal drawings we took from her tent, but it's still—it's too quiet. I keep waiting for something to ambush us. At least in the Trials, things kept going wrong. There was no letting down your guard. Maybe I just...got too used to war, but I don't trust that the fighting is over. I can't trust that it's over. Things have been quiet since the dryad's attack, and it feels wrong, but there's nothing to indicate that anything is at all wrong. I guess one of the researchers in Autumn Division committed suicide a fortnight ago, and people have been a bit shaken up about that. He dug out his own teeth, which means every time I wake up with my teeth even slightly aching, I get paranoid all over again. I'm running morning practices still, same as I did during the Trials and the journey before that. Alexis Corinthian shows up to nearly all of them, she's a friend of mine from Winter Division, ex-Army, so she's good to practice with. Vennikus Callo comes mostly to watch and sometimes to test a move or a spell, but she's a much better fighter than she's letting on, I don't know why she's hiding it. Talia, who's been practicing with me from the very beginning, literally since the ship we took out here—well, she's alright, but she's not good, it's clear that the way that I'm showing her to move isn't natural to her. Which is—I mean it's to be expected, she's a civilian, and she's more a mage than a fighter. She's improved, but I don't think I'd tell her to do anything in a fight other than stand behind me or run. Not that I'm expecting anything horrible to happen, it just seems...overdue.

My injury is getting worse. It's the natural progression of things, and I have to accept it. I'm learning to accept it. It’s not like I can’t still do important things to serve the Empire. I hope yours are getting better. I hope that if—when—the Rose Guns go into production, maybe then I’ll be able to tell you it was me, I was the one who figured out how to meld magic and mechanics, I was the one who built the first prototype, I was the one who developed the theory. I hope that you’ll be proud of me.

Be well, Iria Strell

———

To Maldai Varricon 3rd Legion’s Meridionalis Barracks Serae

Dear Maldai,

I am writing because your blades have been lost. I cannot tell you why or how, just know that it was in decisively defeating an Enemy of the Empire the likes and scale of which were unprecedented. As I still have the ability to fight, I was hoping to gain from you the knowledge of how you had them specially balanced, that I might commission my own pair.

I hope that you have been healing well, and that the Empire is triumphing on the Surrian front.

May that you be well, Iria Strell

———

Official Report On The Black Lotus Labs Infestation Incident Drafted For Filing Iria Strell, Senior Researcher Acolyte Consecrate

The following is a report of the attack on Black Lotus Labs by the Infestation, and the actions taken by myself, Senior Research Lead Talvus Zhale, Senior Research Lead Qaedius Galseii, and Instigator Vennikus Callo to contain it. While the end result was rather extreme, it remains my tactical opinion that the measures employed were matched to the severity of the threat this Enemy presented; not just to Black Lotus Labs, but to the Empire as a whole. I include at the end of this report all relevant information from the months prior that might pertain to this Enemy, such that a proper assessment can be made.

On the night of the incident, I had stayed late in my lab to work on a personal project as many of the researchers do. As such, I did not take the fastest route back from Winter Division to the sleeping quarters, but rather a more roundabout way that passed near the kitchens, that I might grab rations to make up for a skipped dinner. I mention this because the route passed a corridor which connected to Autumn Division, and it was in this corridor that I encountered my first instance of an infested body. I could see a figure lurching towards me, half falling against a wall as its stumbles extinguished a candle. All behind it was darkness.

I hurried forward to try to help, and I first perceived what I thought to be Senior Researcher Lia Bassus of Autumn Division. I caught her before she fell to the floor. It felt like she was shivering in my arms. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness that I assumed had been accidental in her wake; the first sign that something greater was at play. What the dimness of the remaining candlelight revealed was as if from a nightmare: the back of her head had been caved in, as if by a blow that I would presume to be fatal or near-fatal on a battlefield. Her hair matted with blood. One of her eyes—part of her face—was gone, and there was a strange, bone-like structure growing from the cavity in its place, spines curling into the flesh of her cheek. Some of her teeth had been dug out, much like Hieronymus Acari's body had been found—the Autumn Division researcher who had apparently committed suicide a few weeks prior.

Bassus raised an arm and struck me, cutting into my shoulder, and it became clear that her hand had been replaced by crystalline spurs jutting from her forearm, a strange shade of teal that seemed greenish-black in the flickering candlelight. I could not tell whether or not she was dead; it had felt like she was still breathing. As such, I did not want to harm her if there was a way to extract this thing without killing her. Yet I could not leave her alone and run and fetch a medic, lest she wander somewhere unknown, or cross the path of another without the advantage of my combat training. So I began to lead her towards the common room off the sleeping quarters, where even at this hour it was likely I might find someone I could send running for help. She shambled after me mindlessly, all I had to do was walk slowly enough for her to keep pace.

I abandoned this plan as I reached an intersection with a corridor that led to Summer Division; there was a shout, and I saw a guard running before he stumbled and fell, and was immediately overwhelmed by three creatures that were more bone-like crystalline growth than mismatched corpse. I immediately updated my assessment of the situation: that this was not an isolated incident affecting only Lia Bassus, but rather a full-scale attack. I left what I now believe to be Bassus's corpse to run to my sleeping quarters and retrieve my weapons and armor, that I might better respond to the crisis.

When I exited my room, armed, I nearly ran into Senior Researcher Chaera Canth, woken by the distant but rapidly spreading sounds of fighting and shouts of panic. As she was a non-combatant, I instructed her to stay behind me as I escorted her to the common room as established by the new emergency procedures. There, I decided, I could take stock of which researchers had made it to relative safety. We encountered none of the crawlers or infested along the way. However, in the common room, I noticed several prominent researchers missing, and resolved to comb the living quarters armed as I was for more survivors. Senior Research Lead Talvus Zhale of Spring Division caught me before I could go and agreed to come with me. We had served together in the same specialist unit in the Army, and as such we were familiar with fighting side by side. He was not nearly as enthusiastic as I was about returning to the unsafe territory of the sleeping quarters or corridors beyond, but we encountered no enemies to or from the sleeping quarters, nothing save the last living stragglers who were evacuating. None of the researchers that I wished to find were in their rooms, so we returned to the common room, Zhale attempting to talk me out of searching Summer and Autumn Division labs alone for those who were missing.

As we turned into the common room, my senses began to fail me. Zhale said something that I could not comprehend, yet I could hear whispering across the room with perfect clarity. The walls seemed to re-orient to a tilted frame. All I could concentrate on was what felt like a point of gathering focus on the opposing wall.

Then all hell broke loose.

A thing burst through the wooden barrier, trailing infested corpses and crawlers in its wake. Everything seemed to emanate around it, to warp from it. I leapt into action, running across the room even as Zhale shouted something at me that I could not understand. The Thresher was humanoid—a strange silhouette, with the jagged bonelike spikes coming from it, the unnaturally long and thin limbs, the crystalline spikes growing everywhere, but especially at the end of its claw-like arms, its deep purple coloring in the dim lighting, a triangular armored head with no eyes but dozens of small clicking feelers beneath it—but it was humanoid and it was moving so I assumed that it could bleed; and I was not yet used to my blades failing me.

The Thresher ripped through a researcher in a single blow, and the crawlers fell upon others. I attempted to join the melee, and an old injury affecting my spine that I had received in my tenure in the Army flared, and I collapsed. A few seconds later I was able to push myself to standing, and tried to attack again, and it flared again. I blacked out. When I came to, the room was partially evacuated, and there was a crawler over me. I shoved it off, and joined those who were fleeing, the guards forming a line behind the researchers as they held a defensive retreat.

As I wasn't running particularly fast anyways, I joined the guards without hesitation. The infested caught up with us as we held out in the hallway. I had dropped both my blades as my injury had dropped me, but I was wearing a prototype of a swift-deploying hand razor within a bracer, so I activated that. The things were upon us. I turned to fight. Yet as I lunged to strike my first blow, there was a sharp twist of pain within me, and I could feel something tear in my back. Guard Captain Saturninus Strabo leapt over my prone form, and struck the blow that I could not. Another guard dragged me back and along with the civilians, and so I was delivered to the Winter Division central complex, as Winter Division seemed to be the least infected and thus the safest place we could barricade ourselves. He deposited me in a chair, then joined the guards who were fortifying the room.

Guard Captain Strabo and most of the guards who remained in the hallway did not return.

After about a minute, I attempted to stand and found that I could not. I could still feel my right leg, but it was limp, and it could not hold my weight. I fell to the ground. This caught the attention of Senior Research Lead Qaedius Galseii, amongst those who had escaped the carnage and had gathered for holdout of evacuation here. Senior Research Lead Galseii had treated injuries of mine in the attack on the labs by Saren and the dryad's forces a little over a month prior, and was familiar enough with it to immediately locate a detached muscle and perform impromptu surgery to return me to my feet.

Research Lead Ovir Arbutus took command of the situation with the poise and authority that his prior experience as Guard Captain proffered him. We did not have the manpower, weapons, or fortifications to hold out against this infestation in any room within the labs, even the relatively unaffected Winter Division central laboratory we were in, for any substantial period of time. He ordered the full and immediate evacuation of the laboratories; to move all personnel to the docks and vacate the island, until the Army could return in force. He asked for volunteer runners to attempt to locate any other survivors in the laboratory and spread the news of this evacuation, and the rest of us would make our way out through corridors we believed to be least overrun, with all who could fight holding the edges of the formation. I could not run; it was a testament to Galseii's skill as a surgeon that I could stand at all, so there was never any question of which of these two groups I would be traveling with. I had the time to duck into the private lab where I had been working, to grab the most important of my notes, and prototypes of mechanically deploying bandages (both standalone and the lightweight underarmor woven of them that I designed). My second generation hand razor prototypes were not near enough ready for combat to be of worth taken, and the partially inlaid barrel of the Rose Gun prototype was too heavy to carry in my injured state, so I left them.

The group was already organized into its leaving formation by the time I returned. I joined the makeshift collection of combatants along the rear. Zhale and Galseii were within the group. We made it a large portion of the way out through emptier corridors, but there were too many of us to move swiftly enough to avoid confrontation, and these things seemed to be tracking us through more senses than our own. They came from the back and from the sides: the crawlers, partially consisting of scattered bits of corpses and held together with wild crystalline growths. The guards and volunteers began to fight them, and it became evident that these things could rapidly regenerate, that cutting them apart did little to slow them down.

Recalling that the corpse of Lia Bassus had been putting out candles, I suggested that we use fire against these things. After a brief scramble to get a torch from the center of the group to the fighters on the outskirts, we tested my hypothesis to great success. We pushed forward with no casualties until another Thresher burst through one of the walls. Research Lead Arbutus moved to cut it off, and I to support him, when a huge crystalline monster, well larger than the largest of the dinosaurs that attack, smashed through another wall. The Thresher's aura was warping my perception of reality, but I saw it slit across Arbutus's throat, and Arbutus fall; so I leapt forward and slapped one of my mechanical bandage prototypes across the wound. The crystalline monster was simply too large and too strong to fight. I was able to kill the Thresher that had attacked Arbutus, but its warping field did not disappear; it instead felt as if to strengthen more as more Threshers began to attack the back of the column. There was no hope fighting, I lost sight of everyone but Arbutus and the guard to his right. We hoisted his body between us, and ran.

We made it outside, as did a number of the others. I blacked out shortly after from the exertion. I came to on a makeshift cot a few hundred feet away from the laboratory complex, with Senior Research Lead Galseii standing over me and tending to my injuries. A brief assessment of the surroundings indicated that Senior Researcher Alexis Corinthian had taken over organizing the survivors to move to the ships at the docks, as Research Lead Arbutus remained alive but unconscious.

Senior Research Lead Talvus Zhale and Instigator Vennikus Callo were the two who had noticed, and were discussing, the larger implications than immediate escape. There had been strange, small, coral-like growths that had appeared extremely intermittently in various locations around the laboratories over the past few months, and Callo alone took the chance to study some instead of immediately purging them. They had seemed to grow from nothing, in a sealed and sterilized container, and Callo had discovered little more than that they must have been feeding upon some outside source, and that they were remarkably resilient, before the worry of contamination led her to dispose of the samples in fire. She made the connection that these growths had been precursors of the Infestation, and that they were not merely feeding upon and incorporating all living things that they could consume, but that there must be a larger unidentified force, presumed magical in nature, supplying them with the power to expand exponentially and with nothing material to feed on. By her calculations, they would overrun the entire island well before the Army would be able to return, and the evacuation itself might still be in imminent danger.

The mention of an outside force supplying the energy for growth gave Senior Research Lead Zhale the idea: that he might be able to erect something based on the principles behind the Warding Wall, that could keep the Infestation from drawing on this power. It would be an immense undertaking, and for it to work, he would need both to lay a ritual anchor and cast the spell separately. As he did not have the raw power and blood magic expertise to lay the ritual anchor in full, he turned to Senior Research Lead Galseii, a frequent collaborator of his, for assistance in this plan. Instigator Callo indicated that she believed she could invert a Green Magic spell she had reverse-engineered over her studies in Summer Division in order to mask the life force of the casters, which she concluded from her research was what the Infestation was using to see and track its surroundings, allowing the casters to recuperate overnight. She suggested the bunker where the Catalyst was being separately kept and studied, far enough away from the main laboratory complex to ensure it would not be threatened in the case of another Misery event, as the ideal place to spend the night; after all, even hidden from the Infestation, the jungle held many dangers.

After ensuring that what I had salvaged of my research notes would make it to the ship, I volunteered to stay behind and provide martial support to the casters. No other guards could be spared. Corinthian agreed after a brief conversation with Callo that she would hold the ships from leaving until the next morning, but longer than that if she had not received a signal from us she would not risk the lives of the other survivors.

The laying of the ritual anchor went essentially as planned. Despite my injured state I was able to hold off the onslaught long enough for Zhale and Galseii to finish. I blacked out again briefly during our escape and retreat to the Catalyst bunker, and came to safely laid in a cot.

The mages—Zhale and Callo—slept immediately. Galseii and I discussed our options, as there is a stiffness in my injury that develops after extended periods of rest, and it was likely that if I tried to sleep I would wake up the next morning immobilized for hours. We concluded that it was priority that I be able to provide emergency support for the casters in the case of Callo's charm wearing off during the laying of Zhale's Warding spell or during our final retreat through the jungle, and that the two of us would remain awake. Under his supervision, I performed a number of exercises to ward off the stiffness, and in the intervening time, I finished incorporating the mechanical bandages into the underarmor I had brought along, and Galseii a series of bloodrunes that he would apply to himself to cause a continuous damage to all surrounding enemies the next morning.

Zhale and Callo arose a little after dawn. In the light, it was clear that one of the stationary growths that had precipitated the arrival of the Infestation had appeared in the corner of the bunker. Upon its pointing out, Callo stated to the group that she worried that the makeshift Warding Wall spell would not do enough; that it would cut these things off from magical continued growth, but only within the radius of the spell, and that it would mean nothing for that which was already here and could consume naturally the life around it. Furthermore, that if any remained in any corners of the island when the Army came back in force, that it might come back, again and again, never truly eradicated. And that was assuming it did not manage a way to get off the island before then.

I was the one who suggested it. After all, we were right there, and I do not believe that I ever saw the Catalyst as anything other than first and foremost, a weapon. It seemed tactically relevant to think of all possible ways to make a thing explode.

"What about the Catalyst?" I said. "Can we set it off? Make another Misery big enough to destroy this thing?"

The idea stopped Callo short. Of all of us, she had been following the research on the Catalyst, and could speak to how it worked: that it disassembled life, and the energy field from that disassembly, if it encountered more life, would destabilize in a further chain reaction, expanding until there was no life left within the field. If it were set off in the heart of the Infestation, the deepest point within Black Lotus Labs, the growth-density ought to be enough for the explosion to reach the treeline, and the blast would overtake the entire island, giving a guarantee that units of soldiers fighting through the underbrush could not of the ending of this threat for good.

As a military strategy, I recommended it to the others as perhaps the only way, given Callo's modified calculations, to secure the island even after casting Zhale's Warding Wall. But for the potential of loss of knowledge and unique abilities of those gathered within this room was also a great consideration, not when all that was needed was for one to wait behind until the others had reached the ships, push their way as deep into the complex as they could, and detonate the thing as they were overrun. Callo was just expressing doubt that any one of us four would not be able to make it in deep enough to trigger a large enough chain reaction, when Zhale woke up.

"There's another way out," he said. "Deep in that building. Deep, deep in that building, there happens to be a window into a probably-not-going-to-explode arcane realm. Big enough for a person to get through, or several persons if they're not dead."

After that, it was unanimous amongst the four of us. With the Warding Wall cast, the Infestation would lose its regenerative powers. With my fighting abilities, emergency support and alchemical prowess from Callo, consistent healing from Galseii to prop me back up, and Zhale conserving his energy for the portal to the Arcane Other that he believed using the scaffolding Autumn Division had created, he could cast — the four of us judged the likelihood of our success and our survival to be well worth the risk of the undertaking.

It was our duty.

As there was little more to discuss, we set out to return to the main labs, the Catalyst with us in its portable protective casing. The first sign that this occurrence was different than originally judged became evident as we reached the clearing in front of the complex where we had laid the ritual anchor: despite the rapid spread of growth the night prior, there was no sign of the Infestation having spread beyond the buildings.

The immediate priority was the casting of Zhale's Warding Wall spell. I can report no technical details on what he did: he wove large and incredibly complex three-dimensional needles, using his own blood to stabilize the structure, then asked that the rest of us first hold magic in place, then contribute blood to increase the complexity of the spell. Callo added her blood first. I added mine second. Galseii added his third. Upon adding my blood to the needle, I could feel a connection to the spell, and could indeed both feel and see the increase in complexity that Zhale spoke of; upon the casting, I could feel a pressure, something outside trying to push itself in, but the spell held strong and Zhale's Warding Wall cut it off.

Callo and I plotted what we believed to be the most efficient route to Autumn Division, given what had been observed the night prior with the route taken to escape through Winter Division; what Callo had seen when she had volunteered as a runner; the assumption that the Infestation had started and was concentrated in Autumn Division and had spread evenly throughout the facility; and prioritizing routes with fewer ambush points or connecting hallways so that the casters would remain as safe as possible and could rely mainly on my martial expertise to push forward, instead of dealing with attacks from multiple directions. This route ensued entering through Summer Division. The assault went with few hitches. That which is notable, I report here: besides the infested corpses, Thresher, and crawlers we had fought the day before — we did not encounter another crystalline Destroyer — we encountered crawlers with tendrils that they used to attempt to grapple, pin, and pull in prey; infested corpses of the local fauna, namely raptors and dinosaurs, indicating that the Infestation had spread the night before then pulled back to the facility; and Threshers with vine-like appendages with a reach of well over thirty feet that they used to attempt to snatch and pull in their prey while fighting. There were also stationary growths on the floor that made no active attempt to engage in the fighting nor did they show any sentience or signs of moving, but remaining standing on these growths one would begin to sink into them, become ensnared, and their insides contained both an acidic substance and many small spines. Zhale's Warding Wall cut off the ability of all of these things to regenerate, but it otherwise did not seem to slow them down. We must have fought between a dozen and a dozen and a half of all of these creatures, myself taking the brunt of the attacks but Callo protecting Galseii and Zhale with a remarkable aptitude from behind, Galseii providing healing and some magical support, and Zhale carrying the Catalyst and conserving his energy to cast for our escape.  

In the final room between Summer and Autumn Divisions, we encountered our third sign that the Infestation was being guided by some form of overarching intelligence. The ground was covered by a swarm of strange beetles. Upon lighting and sweeping a torch near them, they scattered somewhat, but more poured from cracks in the wall and the floor until we were wading through them. We stuck as close as we could to the edges of the room, when we were struck by the strong mental pressure against going right; so we eased around the left side of the room. We had gotten perhaps halfway across the room in these conditions when the beetles suddenly swarmed together to form a massive column in the center of the room. The column lashed out and specifically targeted Zhale, and pulled back with the case containing the Catalyst, leaving Zhale on the floor. I had to leap into the column myself to grab and retrieve the case; otherwise the Catalyst and the entire plan would have been lost.

We were very close to Autumn Division once we had made it through the laboratory that had been overrun by the bugs. We turned into the final hallway, to which we saw a humanoid figure, slumped slightly; its weight somehow wasn't right on its feet.

Zhale moved forward and the small light spell he'd been holding cast away the gloom. It was Talia Aurelia.

I was standing in front, so it saw me first.

"Iria?" it said.

"Talia. Rough night?" I asked. 

"Not terribly," it said. "It all went well, all told."

At that point, I readied my blades, and drank a refined prototype of a potion for increased strength and speed that Callo had given me. Zhale pushed the light further into the hallway, and it became clear why it was slumped strangely: it wasn't putting any weight on its feet because extending from its back and arching over its shoulders were articulated pointed growths and limbs made of the strange mix of crystalline outcroppings and pieces of corpses. Some were lumpy but many were jointed, clean — an enormous form, something between a centipede and a mass grave.

"So did the Infestation get you, or was this you the whole time?" I asked it.

"There never was a Talia Aurelia. There is only us," it said.

Beyond it, the room was dug out, which huge, person-sized insectoid creatures crawling constantly over and around one another, a roiling sea filling the pit of their own making. The room that we needed to get to, the metal chamber, for Zhale to cast the spell that would allow us to escape — it was more than forty feet up a sheer vertical wall.

"What was it that you thought you were going to accomplish?" I asked the thing in front of me.

It lunged, sweeping with two huge claws that loosed a spay of crystalline needles.

"To pave the way."

Galseii cast something on me as I kept fighting, kept trying to hold its attention so that the others could go around and begin to set up for our escape.

"What for?"

I got three good, solid hits in, but it did not nearly slow the thing down — it plucked me up with one of its claws, articulated spines piercing into me where it grabbed me.

"Come on, we're friends, you can tell me," I said, and thrust up through the chest where the heart would be and ripped the blade out. It looked down at me, smiled, a bit of blood dotting the side of its mouth, and flung me into the pit.

Callo took over the more martial aspects of the fight at this, pulling out a silk scarf that she began to whip around, magic sharpening the end. It took me a few seconds to climb out of the pit, at which point the thing had begun to attack Galseii, and was trying to peel his head apart. I dismembered the limb that was holding him, and took the attention of the Infestation once more.

It was at that point that I was hit by Callo's blade. Her eyes were open wide and shaking, as she slashed it across my throat, resisting but failing to resist some sort of telephysical control. I was impaled twice partially through my torso by the monster. Zhale barreled across the room, as fast as he could run still carrying the Catalyst, and tackled Callo, making up for lack of skill with pure momentum.

She came to again, and shouted, "Legs! Go for the legs!"

I turned away from the front of the thing and ripped underneath it, cutting out five or six legs' worth of musculature. Callo pushed herself up and severed another leg.

That which had called itself Talia, its body tattered and ripped to pieces, chunks of lung and the remains of what was a heart mixed with other viscera, leaned over me.

"I know you though, Iria," it said.

It slammed another of the limbs that it had been trying to use against Galseii into me, knocking me onto my side, and a row of teeth dug into my back and ripped into connection points of the musculature of my spine. The places that were weakest from my injury.

It ripped.

I regained consciousness about twenty feet in the air, in a cradle of silk carried by a massive summoned spider. Galseii and Zhale were next to me. Callo was single-handedly holding the monster off, severing leg after leg with her scarf. The three of us made it to the door in the wall, and tumbled into the compartment. Once we were safe inside, Callo started climbing.

"I need more time!" Zhale said.

Recalling once more these things' original distaste of fire, I dragged myself to the edge and set the webbing that remained on the wall on fire, and the silk hammock that had carried me as well, to throw at the monster. Callo easily dodged the burning bits on the wall, and made it through and into the room. We shut the metal door, and there was immediately a great force slamming into it, spines piercing partially through. Zhale finished his preparations, using my discarded sword to smash through the glass window that had previously been used for viewing in this chamber, and cast the spell. Galseii finished doing something that allowed him at least to prop me up.

The original plan had been for me to be the last through the portal; the one who waited, who could wait and hold fighting who-knows-what while the others got as far through the portal and away from a potential blast radius as they could. This was no longer possible. Galseii and Zhale took me, an arm around a shoulder each, and half-carried me through the portal. Callo stayed behind. When we had hobbled far enough to hopefully be safe; or perhaps when it became clear that the chamber door would hold out for no more abuse, Callo kicked the door open, opened the protective casing, threw the whole thing out, turned and dived through the window, and began sprinting towards us.

There was a booming roar, although muffled; everything was muffled in the Arcane Other, gray, strange. There was the strange sensation of the ground shaking, yet far away, or perhaps a concussive front from the mass explosion occurring right through the window reached us before the eruption of the strange flickering red and green sparks that characterized the destabilization field, blooming out like a poisonous cloud. In its initial expansion it was faster, covering the distance Callo had covered much more rapidly, and it seemed as though all would be lost; but in the Arcane Other, there was no life to fuel this outcropping of the reaction, and it seemed as though all might be well; but the cloud clipped Callo and threw her forward with a force as it began dissipating. The window snapped shut.

Galseii left me with Zhale and ran towards Callo's prone form, even as she shouted for him to stay back; but the red and green sparks that sunk into her were not quite enough to set off a new reaction. She lost her eyes, as she stabilized. Galseii tried to pull from the Caedis healing magic to treat all damages to her, but could not reach anything. Callo waved him off and stood on her own, and without her eyes, pointed us in a direction.

We walked, for what must have been nearly an hour, Callo giving small corrections when necessary. The distance felt similar to the distance that we might have walked from the laboratory complex to the ships; although I am not sure if I could report more exact details, as the exhaustion of nearly two days' without sleep, the exertion of the previous night and morning, and the injuries that I bore meant that remaining upright and moving forward took most all of my attention.

Finally, Callo stopped us. Zhale took several attempts to pull and stabilize a needle, but he did, and we saw through once more into our world: the deck of a ship, for Callo's navigation had been flawless. Galseii all but dropped me through the window, and he and Callo followed. Zhale attempted to step through as well, but had been so exhausted by the amount of casting he had done that he lost hold of the needle, and the portal closed before he was fully through, severing a part of his leg. Galseii moved to cast healing, and Zhale to stop him, but Zhale was a moment too late—alterations that Zhale had made to his blood during the Trial of the Architect to allow him to use it more freely in needles meant that it reacted poorly to the healing spell and lashed out, destroying the hand that Galseii had used to summon the magic. Healing magic was cast on Galseii, and mundane means to stop Zhale's bleeding were employed. The ship, now with all expected passengers, departed with haste to carry the survivors and this news back to Veteris. This concludes my report of the events surrounding the Infestation incident.

I believe that this Infestation represents an unprecedented threat to the Empire. It has not been eradicated, it has been pushed back, and we have no measure of how much this defeat cost it. Its advance force had in-depth research on the Empire, enough to create and impersonate a noble, infiltrate Black Lotus Labs, and to know enough about our language, culture, sciences, and magic to fit in seamlessly in both social interactions day-to-day for months and in its research team. The appearance of Talia Aurelia could not have been a magical construct whatsoever, as it sat and interacted multiple times with Senior Research Lead Zhale, who has perhaps the most sensitive passive magical senses in the Empire and would have immediately picked up on any magical influences in the appearance of its body. It cast simple Caedic needles needed for its research multiple times, and once in front of Senior Research Lead Zhale, indicating that it was not merely parroting but had discovered how to fully reproduce Caedic arcane casting. It knew beforehand of the Capital and the protections in the Capital such as the Warding Wall; Talia Aurelia attempted to engage me in conversation about the mechanics of the Warding Wall when we first met, as well as the research and capabilities of the Academy, and was only thwarted by the fact that I knew little on either topic.

The mechanism with which it used to invade Black Lotus Labs is unknown, other than that it was partially blocked by a spell based on the Warding Wall. The reason why Black Lotus Labs was targeted is unknown; it is my instinct that the project that Autumn Division was researching that Talia Aurelia personally joined was perhaps something that the Infestation planned to use to more completely manifest in this dimension. This postulate is drawn from the facts that Talia Aurelia did choose to focus on the project involving dimensional observation for months and actively contributed to research for the team, that Black Lotus Labs was targeted despite being a well-guarded Caedic stronghold instead of some easier unoccupied place to manifest, and that within the labs most of the concentration and actions of the Infestation were in Autumn Division near the viewing room of Project that Talia Aurelia had been researching and that Senior Research Lead Zhale used to construct the portal for our escape. However, I do not believe there is any evidence present that could lead us to assume that the room and project were needed in the first place for the Infestation to invade, just that it was necessary for the second stage of the invasion.  

We must face the very real possibility that we do not know how many other Caedic elves are currently being impersonated or have been created entirely by the Infestation, or that might be in the future. We must assume that the Infestation has the ability to begin a second invasion anywhere in the Empire or in the world that is not currently protected by a Warding Wall, and its advance force alone—that which was sent to pave the way—was enough to destroy in near entirety a high-security Caedic stronghold with a large military-trained guard force specifically present and on the outlook for foreign threats.

I can still feel the connection to the Warding Wall spell Zhale erected. All four of us can. The force that was pressing against it remained pressing against it, with purpose, after the detonation of the Catalyst; it was only hours after the destruction of the advance force that the pressure withdrew. If anything tries to enter the island of Insul with Black Lotus Labs, we will be able to alert to Empire immediately. Senior Research Lead Zhale states that he expects the spell to hold for the span of a month to a few months. The Catalyst now lies in the center of a storm of magic. If its last event is anything to be judged by, the storm will stabilize within the year, allowing for the Catalyst to be fetched or secured at the Will of the Bishops. As for this Enemy and the threat it represents, the actions taken by myself, Senior Research Lead Zhale, Senior Research Lead Galseii, and Instigator Callo put an end to this incident. I can only re-iterate the words that it spoke to us: that it was here to pave the way for something greater. There is more of it out there, more which survived, which ostensibly now also has all of the research that Talia Aurelia collected for months on the very thing it needed to more fully invade. We merely stopped this outcropping, and we know not when it will be back.

———

to do list before reaching Veteris

-- check report one more time for anything missing. make sure no bias. they don’t want your opinion, just the facts. -- reconstruct rest of notes of Project Pendulum for Galen. do not assume any excuses will be accepted. cannot return empty-handed, especially not after destruction of the construct and prototypes. -- Talvus prosthetic design work in mechanical wand parts so can be used for spell storage too worried it might explode (coward). work in snack secret compartment instead -- work on possibility of designing Qaedius a working magic-mechanical hand prosthetic? probably impossibly/ beyond any theory work on it anyway. mechanical anchor based on construct—try non-magical scaffolding version first to model. if works, ask someone who knows better if offering to design with Qaedius would be insult -- visit Vennikus? would she want to see you she has Canth with her, not like she’s alone. still visit, make quick, show no pity or guilt you wouldn’t want anyone to pity you -- take notes on pain in exercises every morning. mobility in attempts to get through sword forms is improving. do not push or strain. not worth it. -- practice being better noble. greetings, dialect, personal presentation. do not write off any aspect. will need.

[noro124]

had 2 weird dreams.

1. the beach was cold & it looked like it would rain every day. dark gray skies, black water, the works. the waves were really big & would sometimes slam into porch of our motel, which was right on the beach, & i found that out on accident because the window was open & my bed got drenched when a big wave came. 

it was clear that we were there for some quest? but i don’t remember what it was - i think it was to reclaim one of the party member’s lost heirlooms, becaue the beach island had an underwater bay that was currently unreachable (it was marked red on the map). we explored along the coastline, but there were weird fish in the water that were very threatening, so whenever the water rolled up the beach, we had to get out of the way. the beach wasn’t very wide, either - maybe 6 feet between the rocks & the water. i don’t remember if we found anything.

it became nighttime. the beach was at the bottom of a small city that i’d had other dreams in, & something was on fire. i thought i was going to be late for school, but my phone was an hour ahead because it didn’t autoadjust for daylight’s savings time, so i ended up running outside my house at 3:51 in the morning to get to the courtyard & i saw the smoke & fire & took pictures of it for my snapchat story. i was gonna add the caption “when you wake up an hour early but something’s on fire” & add it to my story, but i forgot to add the caption. the smoke looked like it was alive - it had a really weird texture.

2. I was on a school bus field trip through Michigan with a bunch of people I didn't know very well + the guy i made friends with from gym class + my boyfriend’s friend’s friend that i met last week when we went to chicago. it was a dirty double decker bus that looks like someone had attached a bunch of plating to the outside & we had these aqua blue circles on the UI that functioned as fuel, life points, & weapon projectiles. 

sometimes the assistant TA would have to get out of the bus & attack an enemy, & he was getting pissed because we weren't moving the bus to safety while he was fighting & it was taking damage & we were not being considerate of his aqua circles. after he discussed with us - more of a yelling lecture tbh - he got off the bus to fight & then we drove away to make sure his bullets wouldn't hit the bus, which was already low on health, maaybe 2 circles left. i got out before we started leaving to help the guy take care of the enemies because i had a lot of circles stored up, but the enemies (which were like a swarm of small dots) got behind me while i was distracted shooting forwards, so i respawned in the bus with only 2 circles left. i’d done a pretty good job though. & while we were driving away I saw some friends of mine hanging out in a park. i shouted at them but it was too late & they didn’t hear me. we were trying to circle back to where the assistant TA was, but the streets didn’t point back in that direction, so we just kind of abandoned him in the dream. he passed out of existence. the assistant TA was also the only authority figure except a teacher named Helen Saunders who was an old lady. I didn’t interact with her for the first party of the dream because she wasn’t the one driving & she was on the upper floor of the bus anyway. 

 we drove through a nasty tiny street with really weird, sketchy restaurants. there was one that sold rotting decapitated animal heads - for example, you could buy a crocodile head for $35! & sold something with a really weird name I can't remember, but it invoked the mental image of like zombie pigs. also you could say “hey can i buy this rotten stalk of celery for $20” & then they would upgrade it to plump but still rotting stalk of celery & say “you can buy the premium for $40″. we left real fast, but the weird name thing stuck with us. the UI circles were gone by now. we ended up in a semi-big city - at least, not a tiny town that lives on the edge of the interstate, but a town with lots of shops & squares - think like Decin. I got split off from everyone on accident while browsing shops, but I also had a weird sense of foreboding, like “I have to get away from them, I have to hide.” I looped back to the place where we were dropped off & didn’t see anyone, but I riskily had to run across a big open square to get to the Tourist Information/Help desk office area. I don’t think anyone saw me then, either. it was really hot outside, so i asked if I could stay in there to cool off, & the nice front desk guy said “Yeah, sure.” It was a really small office, maybe 7 x 12 feet big. 

Then a person with green skin & the rotting zombie pig head from the old store stumbled in the door & I screamed, knowing this was like a zombie apocalypse except we had created the zombies from that weird word with our own imagination, & tried to drag the nice front desk guy into the bathroom so we could hide & maybe sneak out the back window. However, he didn’t move fast enough & the zombie pig that walked in cut us off. I got in the bathroom, but the actual door turned into like a stall door that I had to hold shut from the bottom so that didn’t really work at all. 

I should specify that these pigs did not look like minecraft zombie pigman, it looked like a person with green skin & the head of a pig from animal farm except really warty & decomposing & nasty.

close to that tbh. none of them had any hair. 

anyway, it turned out that that pigman was still sane & it was Mrs. Saunders & she wanted to help! she said “We have to go RIGHT NOW.” so we went out the front door & immediately to the left was like a whole slow shambling army of zombie pigmen, except they weren’t that slow - they were kind of fast once they saw us. we sprinted around the right corner of the building & there was a train coming from the left side that had refugees from the pigman apocalypse sitting on top. it was first a real sized train, but it kept undergoing changes & shrinking in size & width & people kept falling off. we had to jump up on the wall next to the train to try to pick a good time to leap over, & there were other people doing the same thing, & the zombies were right behind us. 

i leaped over & so did my ally pigman, which had stopped looking so much like a pigman & more again like the boyfriend’s friend’s friend from the bus from earlier. the train shrank down almost to toy size, where it was two or 3 feet wide & i had to hold on for dear life. the track got crazy too, lifting 10 feet in the air with no support. however, we were too heavy on the train, & the track kept bowing down. the track was aiming us in the direction of a grove of trees next to a field, & lots of armed people - mostly kids that looked like they were in highschool - were stabbing & attacking the pigs. there was a trio of asian siblings sitting against a tree watching everything with wide eyes, & their legs were up in the air blocking the trunk. 

the track was trying to launch us into a tree, where i saw other people had climbed up for safety, but since there were two of us on one train car, it was too heavy, & instead of being launched into the safety of the branches, we were left grasping at twigs as we fell down. i realized we had to bypass the asian siblings, so we ducked around the fighting & ran for their tree. when they saw me approach their tree, they moved their legs so i could climb up. unfortunately, my friend got bit by a zombie pig as he was climbing up, so he was next to me up there with his teeth growing big & his skin turning green. he looked at me & said “please, you have to kill me to stay safe. do it!” so i shoved him off the tree. he went splat on the ground. i looked away. 

time passed & it was daytime & people were getting out of their trees. it was safe now for some reason because we were suddenly far from civilization & they hadn’t reached here. the mom from arrested development was there for some reason complaining that we were all camping out on her estate. it was a big field with a nice house in the middle surrounded by trees on every side, so it was nice. we had a celebration! we built a tall castle out of cardboard & balsa wood & then fred from harry potter (or maybe it was george) showed up with a levitating chariot with a horn that moved extremely slowly. apparently last night he’d gone off for reinforcements & only just now got back with his weird machine. we turned it into a catapult & started launching water balloons =, except i was blowing into them to fill them up with water? into the castle we made. i was trying to get my sister to stop blowing up the balloons so big so we could launch multiple when i woke up.

what a weird fuckin set of dreams.

[malgal7777]

Hiking with Tracy 2021:  Here we go!

Back to Mt. Diablo we went to begin the official Ride 4 Reason - Run•Walk•Ride Event!  Helping to raise funds for 12 Bay Area School PTSA’s:

https://runsignup.com/tracyalbert/Donate

If you need to fill your good deed quota for the day, how about contributing to the excellent cause of our school PTSA’s?  Mind you, we’re not the district, we’re the Parents, Teachers and the Students.  We get s**t done!

Ok, so on Saturday 4/3, I hiked 14.6 miles to the Summit of Mt. Diablo. ��My previous post gave you an inkling of what Mt. Diablo was like.  And I’m hooked!  It was 14.6 miles of natural bliss. I started at my favorite gate:  Mitchell Canyon Road and took a trail called Back Creek to Bald Ridge to North Peak to the Summit.  Back down was even more glorious:  Juniper Trail to Deer Flat Rd to Mitchell Canyon Trail which lead me straight back to the car.  

Trying to formulate my thoughts on what I enjoyed best:  

The FLOCKS of Wild Turkey’s?!!  Not 1 or 2.  20 of them!  Like guardians of the peak, gobbling along the meadow, telling all visitors they’re in for a treat.  Now, I do not believe the turkeys get up to the peak.  They’re satisfied with the beautiful long grasses of the bottom.  I’m the only jive turkey among them today.

Maybe it was the GROVES of Manzanita trees?  I cannot express just how beautiful these trees are!  As I was making my climb up I found myself thinking  about my last trip here and lo & behold I was among the groves again!  I know it sounds silly, but it’s as if they magically appeared once I started thinking of them!  Like forest gnomes who wait for someone to BELIEVE that they exist and BAM!  there they were.  I know it’s hard not to focus on the hard but smooth rust colored exterior of their bark, but I could not help noticing the leaves this time.  A soft pastel Easter green in the shape of an almond.  How beautifully these two colors meshed together:  Burnt Sienna & pastel green.  If you have any artist sensibility at all and love color, nature is by far the best place to find inspiration.  

Or maybe it was the wildflowers that are now in full bloom, especially at the top?  Talk about color!  Purples, yellows, whites, pinks, reds...like a natural Seurat painting that you’re viewing up close.  If I was able to pull away and view  at even higher elevations, oh the images they would produce!

I guess I would HAVE to say the views.  Breathtaking. It was such a glorious blue sky day too!  It’s not easy to get up there mind you.  90% of the trip is fairly do-able.  The trail zigs-zags up to North Peak.  You start to get a bit cocky. Looking up and seeing the visitor center building of the Summit, I began my chant, “I’m coming to get ya! I’ll be done in no time!”   And like that...Instant Karma.  That building turned into Zeus throwing an extremely steep hill/lighting bolt my way.  Because it got pretty steep suddenly and my heart was pumping. My chant turned to Fred Sanford...”I’m coming to join you Elizabeth!”.   But, WOW!  It felt as if I was in the Swiss Alps viewing the scenic towns within the rolling green hills below me.  A modern day Elizabeth Bennett walking through the rolling hills of Pemberley.  

Day TWO.  Sunday, 4/4.  Inspiration Pt / Nimitz Way to Wildcat Canyon Peak loop back via Wildcat Canyon Trail and Gorge.  12.1 miles.

After my Saturday hike, I treated myself to a nice cold ice bath!  Yup, sat in the tub, ran the cold water and to Charlotte’s delight she dumped a bag of ice onto my legs.  I lasted about 5 minutes.  Then finished off in a hot shower.  And you know what??  It worked!  On Sunday, my legs were feeling pretty darn good and ready for Day TWO!   Nimitz Way trail to Wildcat Canyon Trail loop.  12.1 miles.  

I got a late start since it was Easter Sunday.  Charlotte had fun hiding the eggs for us and I had fun beating Bob in finding them.  BTW, I’m not competitive in anyway.  Nah!  Not me.  My own personal Christ had risen and he was ready to find the most eggs and walk the most miles.  Thank You Jesus!

This hike was interesting because for the first half you’re walking along a ridge overlooking the Bay to the West and the Valley to the East.  The second half you’re down in the canyon walking along a river stream (which I had no idea existed).  Tons of animal sightings:  Cattle, goats, deer, turkeys, bunnies and a few coyotes. The cattle are a bit unnerving.  They’re docile, but BIG.  Me no likey anything that big that moves. AND they’re very close to the trail, so you need to give them a wide berth as you pass by.  The really creepy ones sit and stare at you from the bushes. Pretty startling you as you walk past. 

The goats are awesome.  A centuries old practice for wildfire management.  Hundreds of goats chomping away at the tall grass!  They’re herded by a Shepard and his dog.  The Shepard sits in his trailer, but now and again you see the dog patrolling the electric fence they have to keep the goats in a particular area.  The views this person gets while the goats munch on the grass is amazing.  Best seat in the house. 

The fun part of this hike was walking in the open air along the ridge and looking back to see my friend Mount Diablo.  Crazy how I was just there less than 24 hours ago walking along it’s trails and staring down on this very spot.  

Then there’s the return through the canyon.  Not too much to say here.  It’s a gravel path that looks up at the ridge you were just walking along.  The really cool part is when you reach Tilden and you get to the Wildcat Canyon GORGE trail.  Now, I am not that familiar with Tilden Regional park.  I live 10 minutes from it and have never truly explored.  We’ve been to the steam train, farm and Merry-Go-Round when Charlotte was little, but I seem to always get lost.  Lost while driving.  The roads do not make sense to me and god forbid you go through there at night.  Even walking through this Sunday I was confused.  All these nooks and crannies of parking lots.  Anyway, must get brave and figure this park out.  

But, the GORGE trail is pretty spectacular.  Really beautiful.  It was a great way to end my journey because it brings you back up to Inspiration Pt.  A perfect loop.  

So this weekend is a big one.  Macdonald Gate in Oakland to Lake Chabot in Castro Valley. Around the Lake and back.  20 miles.  Wish me luck and I’m sure you’ll read all about it!

As Louie Anderson always says...Be Good to your Families!  

Peace Out!

[newstechreviews]

August 2020 saw no soca floats sliding along West London’s Ladbroke Grove. No pink feathered wings or giant plumes of headwear. The Notting Hill Carnival was canceled, like all mass gatherings in late COVID lockdown, the streets still spare, the air still choked with grief. No curry goat or jerk pan smoke rose up into the city trees. And the music, the great churning music of the Caribbean islands, of Black Britain, of Africa and the Americas, did not thump to the foundations of the neighborhood terraces, making them tremble.

All of this would have been part of a normal summer for Edward Enninful while growing up in the area in the 1980s. His mother Grace might look out of the window of her sewing room in their house right on the Carnival route, and see some manifestation of Trinidad going by, or a reggae crew, wrapped in amazing sculptures of bikini and shiny hosiery. Edward, one of six siblings, would stay out late and take it in, all that sound and spectacle, which for decades has been the triumphant annual pinnacle of London’s cultural and racial multiplicity.

It was this world that nurtured his creativity and helped shape the vision he has brought to the pages of British Vogue since being appointed editor in chief in 2017. “I was always othered,” Enninful says on a nostalgic walk through the streets of Ladbroke Grove, a much gentrified, still bohemian part of London, where he moved with his family from Ghana at the age of 13, “you know, gay, working-class, Black. So for me it was very important with Vogue to normalize the marginalized, because if you don’t see it, you don’t think it’s normal.”

Today, Enninful is the most powerful Black man in his industry, sitting at the intersection of fashion and media, two fields that are undergoing long-overdue change and scrambling to make up for years of negligence and malpractice. Since becoming the only Black editor in history to head any of the 26 Vogue magazines—the most influential publications in the multibillion-dollar global fashion trade—he has been tipped as the successor to Anna Wintour, the iconic editor of American Vogue and artistic director for Condé Nast. The privately held company is navigating, on top of an advertising market battered by the COVID-19 pandemic, public controversies around representation both in its offices and on its pages.

Wayne Tippetts—ShutterstockEnninful at London Fashion Week on Feb. 16, 2019.

Enninful’s vision for British Vogue comes at a critical moment for the international publisher. “I wanted to reflect what I saw here growing up, to show the world as this incredibly rich, cultured place. I wanted every woman to be able to find themselves in the magazine.” He chose the British model Adwoa Aboah to front his first issue, in 2017: “When others took steps, Edward took massive strides, showing the importance of our visibility and stories,” she says. Covers since have featured the likes of Oprah Winfrey, Rihanna, Judi Dench (at 85, British Vogue’s oldest cover star), Madonna and soccer player Marcus Rashford, photographed for this year’s September issue by Misan Harriman, the first Black male photographer to shoot a British Vogue cover in its 104-year history. While other publications, including American Vogue, have reduced frequency during the pandemic, British Vogue has remained financially stable and is still producing 12 thick issues in 2020.

Under Enninful, British Vogue has morphed from a white-run glossy of the bourgeois oblivious into a diverse and inclusive on-point fashion platform, shaking up the imagery, tracking the contemporary pain. Its shelf presence is different—more substance, more political—and perhaps in part because of it, the shelf as a whole looks different. No more do Black women search mainstream newsstands in vain for visions of themselves. Now we are ubiquitous in my newsagent, in my corner shop, and it really wasn’t that hard; all it took was to give a Black man some power, to give someone with a gift, a voice and a view from the margin a seat at the table.

“My Blackness has never been a hindrance to me,” Enninful says. Yet he is no stranger to the passing abuses of systemic racism. On a Wednesday in mid-July, while entering British Vogue’s London headquarters, he was racially profiled by a security guard who told him to enter via the loading bay instead. “Just because our timelines and weekends are returning to normal, we cannot let the world return to how it was,” he wrote on Twitter. This summer, in the wake of worldwide Black Lives Matter protests sparked by the killing of George Floyd, we are seeing a seismic reckoning across industries, scrutinizing who is doing what and who is not doing enough to bring about real change in equality and representation. “My problem is that there’s a lot of virtue-signaling going on,” he says. “But everyone’s listening now, and we need to take advantage of that. This is not the time for tiptoeing.”

We meet at Ladbroke Grove tube station in a late-summer noon. When anticipating an interview with the leader of a historic luxury fashion bible, it’s tempting to have inferior thoughts about your Nissan or your Clarks boot collection or your latest unlatest something, but Enninful, 48, is unassuming, arriving in a loose navy suit, pale blue shirt and shades, the only giveaway to his sartorial imperium the no socks with his brogues. He is warm and relaxed, bearing the close-shouldered tilt of the lifelong hard worker; he rises at 5 a.m. most days to meditate before work.

I-D: Nick Towers; Vogue Italia: Steven Meisel From left: a Fashion Week report by Enninful in I-D’s January 1995 issue; Naomi Campbell on Vogue Italia in July 2008.

These days he resides toward Lancaster Gate, on the posher side of Ladbroke Grove, with his long-term partner the filmmaker Alec Maxwell and their Boston terrier, Ru Enninful, who has his own Instagram account and whose daily walking was a saving grace during lockdown. But the London Underground is where Enninful’s journey into fashion began, one day on the train in a pair of ripped blue jeans, when he was spotted by stylist Simon Foxton as a potential model for i-D, the avant-garde British fashion magazine. Being only 16, a shy, sheltered kid who grew up in a Ghanaian army barracks and who was less than four years in the U.K., of course he had to ask his mother. Albeit a clothes fanatic herself, a professional seamstress and regular rifler (with Edward) through the markets of Porto-bello and Brixton for fabrics, Grace was wary of the hedonistic London style vortex, the enormity of the new land, and reluctant to release her son into its mouth. He begged. He wore her down: “I knew I couldn’t just walk away from this, that something special was going to come out of it.”

He never had the knack for modeling, he says with characteristic humility. “I was terrible at it. I hated the castings, all that objectifying. But I loved the process and the craft of creating an image.” He soon moved to the other side of the lens, assisting on shoots and assembling image concepts and narratives, a particular approach to styling that impressed i-D enough to hire him as their youngest ever fashion director at only 18, a post he held for the next 20 years. Without the courtesy designer clothes later at his fingertips, he would customize, shred, dye and bargain for the right look, using the skills he’d developed at home in the sewing room. “I realized that I could say a lot with fashion,” he says, “that it wasn’t just about clothes, but could tell a story of the times we’re in, about people’s experiences in life. And that freedom to portray the world as you saw it.”

What was innate to Enninful—this blend of skilled creativity with the perception of difference as normal, as both subject and audience—was relatively unique in an industry dominated by white, colonial notions of beauty and mainstream. Legendary Somali supermodel Iman remembers a 2014 W magazine shoot in which she, Naomi Campbell and Rihanna were cast by Enninful, the publication’s then style director, wearing Balmain, designed by Olivier Rousteing. “Until Edward appeared, no one at the mainstream fashion magazines would have cared to commission a portrait exclusively featuring three women of color, and furthermore who were all wearing clothes designed by a person of color,” she says. “He’s an editor in vocation and a reformer at heart, compelled to spur woefully needed social change.”

Courtesy Jamie Hawkesworth and Condé Nast Britain Train driver Narguis Horsford, on British Vogue’s July 2020 issue.

He shows me his various old haunts and abodes, the top-floor bedsit where he used to haul bags of styling gear up the stairs, the Lisboa and O’Porto cafés of Golborne Road—or “Little Morocco”—where he’d sit for hours chewing the fat with people like makeup artist Pat McGrath, Kate Moss, Nick Kamen and photographer David Sims. Name-drops fall from his lips like insignificant diamonds—stylists, photographers, celebrities—but he navigates his domain in a manner apparently uncommon among fashion’s gatekeepers. Winfrey says of him, “I have never experienced in all my dealings with people in that world anyone who was more kind and generous of spirit. I mean, it just doesn’t happen.”

Her shoot for the August 2018 cover of British Vogue left Winfrey feeling “empress-like,” and she ascribes his understanding of Black female beauty to his being raised by a Black mother. “Edward understands that images are political, that they say who and what matters,” she adds. Enninful’s father Crosby, a major in the Ghanaian army who was part of U.N. operations in Egypt and Lebanon, had thought that his bright, studious son would eventually grow out of his fascination with clothes and become a lawyer. But three months into an English literature degree at Goldsmiths, University of London, studying Hardy, Austen and the usual classics, thinking maybe he’d be a writer, or indeed a lawyer, Enninful quit to take up the position at i-D. His father did not speak to him for around 15 years, into the next century, until Grace suffered a stroke and entered a long illness. “Now that I’m older, I realize he just wanted to protect us. He’s come to understand that I had to follow my heart and forge my own path.”

He credits his parents for his strong work ethic—“drummed into you from a very early age by Black parents, that you have to work twice as hard”—and his Ghanaian heritage for his eye for color. His approach to fashion as narrative comes from the “childish games I would play with my mother,” creating characters around the clothes, sketching them out. “I can’t just shoot clothes off the runway,” he says. “There always has to be a character, and that character has to have an inner life.” Since Grace’s death three years ago, his father has lived alone by the Grand Union Canal and is very proud of his son, particularly of the Order of the British Empire awarded to him by Queen Elizabeth II in 2016 for his services to diversity in fashion. The Queen, incidentally, is high on Enninful’s list of Vogue cover dreams.

The British Vogue Enninful inherited from former editor in chief Alexandra Shulman three years ago was starkly different from today’s rendition. During her 25 years in charge, only 12 covers out of 306 featured Black women, and she left behind an almost entirely white workforce. Now the editorial team is 25% people of color—“I needed certain lieutenants in place,” he says—and similar shufflings are being called for over at Condé Nast in New York. Enninful is reluctant to tarnish names any further, maintaining that Shulman “represented her time, I represent mine,” and declining to comment on the U.S. headquarters.

Courtesy Edward Enninful A Polaroid of Enninful in the 1990s from his personal collection.

Enninful’s rise is particularly meaningful to people like André Leon Talley, former editor at large of American Vogue, where Enninful also worked as a contributing editor. Talley describes the new British Vogue as “extraordinary,” and was joyous at Enninful’s appointment. “He speaks for the unsung heroes, particularly those outside the privileged white world that Vogue originally stood for. He has changed what a fashion magazine should be.”

“I’m a custodian,” Enninful says of his role, sitting in a sumptuous alcove of the club bar at Electric House. “Vogue existed before I came, and it will still exist when I leave, but I knew that I had to go in there and do what I really believed in. It’s our responsibility as storytellers or image makers to try to disrupt the status quo.” Ironically, though, he does not see himself as an activist, rather as someone who is unafraid to tackle political issues and educate others, while remaining firmly within the Vogue lens. “They said Black girls on the cover don’t sell,” he says. “People thought diversity equals down-market, but we’ve shown that it’s just good for business.” British Vogue’s digital traffic is up 51% since Enninful took over. He previously edited the 2008 Black issue of Vogue Italia, which featured only Black models and Black women and sold out in the U.S. and the U.K. in just 72 hours.

Since the incident with the security guard in July—which Enninful reveals was not isolated and had happened before (the culprit, a third-party employee, was dismissed from headquarters)—building staff have been added to the company’s diversity-and-inclusion trainings. Enninful would also like to see financial aid put in place for middle management, “because we forget sometimes that the culture of a place does not allow you to go from being a student to the top.” In 2013, he tweeted about another incident, where he was seated in the second row at a Paris couture show while his white counterparts were placed in front. “I get racially profiled all the time,” he says, going right back to his first experience of being stopped and searched as a teenager, which “petrified” him. “When I was younger, I would’ve been hurt and withdrawn, but now I will let you know that this is not O.K. People tend to think that if you’re successful it eliminates you, but it can happen any day. The difference now is that I have the platform to speak about it and point it out. The only way we can smash systemic racism is by doing it together.”

Campbell Addy for TIMEBritish Vogue editor in chief Enninful in Ladbroke Grove, London, on Aug. 31.

Activism, then, is intrinsic. Fashion is altruism, as much as story and craft, as much as the will to capture beauty. For Enninful, there is no limitation to the radicalism possible through his line of work. Rather than the seemingly unattainable elements of style (the £350 zirconia ring, the £2,275 coat) obscuring the moral fiber of the message, the invitation to think and see more openly, the style instead leads you to it, perhaps even inviting you to assemble something similar within the boundaries of your real, more brutal, less elevated existence. “Relatable luxury,” he calls it, and though it’s difficult to imagine exactly how one might evoke a £2,275 coat without his customizing skills and magical thinking, I am inclined to accept the notion, partly because I saw soul singer Celeste in a £1,450 dress in the September issue and think I might give it a try. Anything is possible. “I still feel like I’m at the beginning,” he says with palpable optimism. “I feel the fire of something new.”

—With reporting by Cady Lang/New York and Madeline Roache/London

Evans is the author of Ordinary People, The Wonder and 26a

Cover photo: Styling: Susan Bender; Suit, sweater, shoes: Burberry

[sudsybear]

Home for the Holidays

The plans to move to San Diego were scrapped earlier in the year. The job offer was rescinded, and thankfully the house never got to market. Dad was quickly re-appointed to City Council, and he resumed his position with the Drackett Company. Mom renegged on her two week notice at the hospital, and life returned to its previous rhythm.

 Angry and disappointed in Jim, I invited my friend Ken to Cincinnati with me for Thanksgiving. In Ken, I picked up another lonely soul, and thought I was rescuing him from a miserable holiday weekend. Ken was excited to see another city, and wanted to know all about it. He was enthusiastic about seeing the country and wanted to know all about where I grew up. I drove the Pinto, and we dropped a freshman in Cleveland along our way.

 All the anguish I’d suffered the previous spring had been for naught. My bedroom was still intact – never touched by any movers. The boxes I’d packed were moved to the attic and forgotten. I’d said good-bye to my life in Wyoming and moved on. And yet, that Thanksgiving weekend I was dumped right back into the thicket of drama, but couldn’t fully participate because of Ken’s presence. I needed to be a good hostess to Ken, and yet old friends wanted news and explanations. It was a delicate balance that was awkward at best. Ken and I argued, and I told my friends, “I’ll explain at Christmas.”

 *          *          *

 After Thanksgiving, the tension between Jim and me grew worse. He was busy with work and classes; I was busy with classwork. I avoided him as much as possible, although we still worked together on the scholarship. Instead I spent time with other friends; played gin-rummy with Bart, Scrabble with Craig and his girlfriend Jilda. I lunched with Lawrence, enjoying his company. I struggled to pass Botany, grabbing help from a classmate who walked me through the physics of transpiration. The semester ended, and I returned to Cincinnati for Christmas and winter break.

 At the end of the term, when exams were over, I packed up the Pinto with a suitcase full of dirty clothes and my rabbit, Homer with all the food and bedding changes along with her litter box. I carried my passenger as far as Cleveland –delivering him to his own family on my way through Ohio. I arrived home late, after dark anyway, and unpacked the car.

 That Christmas, 1986, we celebrated a rare convergence of immediate family. Tom and his wife Janet had spent the fall in New Haven, CT. Tom enrolled in one of Yale’s Master’s degree programs, but shortly after their arrival in August, they realized their mistake. Despite the prestige of the school name, the reality of living in New Haven on a grad student salary was not something they needed or wanted to do. So after the semester, salvaging what credits he could, Tom and Janet would drive back to Oregon and Oregon State University – Salem was home.

 I presume Mom called Jack and pleaded, “Since Tom and Janet and Susan are going to be in Cincinnati for Christmas can you and Cheryl possibly make it so we can have all the family together?”  Whether such a plea was made or not, Jack and Cheryl were in Cincinnati for a few days.

 David stopped by the house Christmas Eve afternoon, and after a brief greeting with my parents, we retreated to what was my bedroom-not-my-bedroom and chatted. Whatever the topic, the discussion became heated and David knocked the rabbit off the bed to the floor. Angry, I suggested he leave and he did.

 Later that evening, my brothers expressed interest in meeting my pet rabbit. Engrossed in a television program, I sent them up to my room to introduce themselves.

 “Is the rabbit supposed to be stiff?”  David’s cuff of the creature accidently killed it, and Jack and Tom buried it in the back yard. I never asked where.

 That Christmas I gave wildly inappropriate gifts, children’s toys and games; useless stuff in the attempt to re-capture childhood. Nobody complained, but I’m sure the plastic went to the garbage or the GoodWill.

 After Christmas Jack and Cheryl quickly returned to their jobs in Pennsylvania, and Tom and Janet continued their journey to Oregon. In the days following, I visited a few other friends – Julie, Erin, Valli – but spent New Year’s Eve alone in my parent’s house. I just could not handle another gathering in Moreno’s basement.

 Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, perhaps as a consolation for the job and transfer debacle, Mom and Dad acquired a new car, a 1986 Mustang convertible GT, five speed standard transmission with cruise control, air conditioning factory installed sound system, with cassette deck. Dad arranged a business trip to Florida for early January. Mom and I packed our suitcases – my summer clothes were at “home” in Rochester, so I packed jeans, cotton sweaters and turtlenecks – and we took turns driving I-75 south to Florida through Kentucky, Tennessee, and Georgia. We picked Dad up in Tampa, and while he rode in the passenger seat, Dad had me drive his new car in heavy traffic across the Tampa Bay Bridge. I was terrified.

 After a few days touring the Sarasota environs, Dad flew back to Cincinnati and Mom and I made the long drive back north. Once in Cincinnati, I did laundry, packed the rabbit cage and paraphernalia into the Pinto and drove back to Rochester, stopping in Cleveland to pick up my passenger.

 *          *          *

 Despite our break-up, and the obnoxious way he treated me, I still cared for Jim. He is human, and we did share many laughs and good times together. I learned quite a bit from him. I bought him a Christmas present, knowing he would enjoy it. While I no longer wanted intimacy, I took pleasure in making those around me happy. Jim mistook my gift as a sign of reconciliation. “Oh she’s giving me gifts, we must be back together.” Nothing could have been further from the truth. I gave him gifts of consolation, “I’m outta here, but you can have these to remember me.” That tired, “we can still be friends” attempt.

 Chapter 1  

Drunken Agony

 In January the guys threw yet another party in their suite – another gathering with loud music (they hooked up as many speakers as they could to Bart’s stereo and pooled their CD and album collections for ‘good tunes’) and lots of alcohol. Someone bought a case or two of longnecks, and I threw caution to the wind and nursed a beer. Can’t stand the stuff, but valiantly tried to sip my way through a whole one. I labeled the bottle so I knew it was mine, and kept it close at hand. I sat and chatted with friends, talking about what classes we were taking for the spring term, which professors we had, and what we had done for our winter breaks.

 I was able to impress friends with a great story of driving down I-75 in a brand new Mustang convertible. Through Kentucky and Tennessee, Georgia and Florida, Mom and I cruised in a man’s dream car. We visited an orange grove, spent a day at the beach, toured the Circus Museum. Nothing exciting in and of itself, but it’s fun to tell people, “Yea, I drove to Florida and back in a 1986 Mustang Convertible.”

 I planted myself in a corner of the couch, Bart parked in an adjacent chair, and unbeknownst to me he kept re-filling my beer. I nursed that beer for the entire evening, thinking I’d had only one. Sad, but I never noticed Bart pouring beer from his bottle into mine. It started out as a joke. How long do you think we can get away with this? They (Bart, Craig, Stephen Paul, Chris, the “other” Jim, Keith and Andy) were all in on it. Elbows nudging, and eyes glancing, they passed the joke along, and I was oblivious. Finally, after who knows how much I had consumed, I announced I was drunk and needed fresh air. Who would take me for a walk? Bart volunteered.

 Yes, I was drunk, and so was he, and what happens when two college students get drunk together? Osculation. We trekked across campus to check out the new library construction. We traipsed through an opening in the fence, climbed over cinderblocks, two-by-fours, piping, and bales of wire. We climbed the industrial stairwell that had been erected, going as high as we dared to get a view of the layout. My balance was challenged, and Bart steadied me. I turned and he started kissing. I welcomed the new feeling, gentle, cautious, and kind. After my head stopped spinning so quickly, Bart walked me back to the party. I was just minutes from passing out, so crashed in Bart’s bed in his loft.

 That was a last beginning. Bart was kind. Over the weeks Bart cared for and protected me. He never forced himself on me, and when I panicked, he stopped and held me. When I got angry, he let me pound away at his chest, and hugged me all the tighter for my pain. I was very angry at Jim, told Bart my story, and found an ally. Our behavior confounded our friends and they questioned our closeness, “How could you do this to Jim?” “Do you see how cruel you are to Jim?” “Do you know how much Jim is hurting?”

 Jim’s last written correspondence was a series of despondent essays about all the wrongs I committed toward him. How I ripped his heart out and didn’t show any remorse. I had mistreated him terribly, calling him “it” and not supporting him through his challenging academic term. Finally, he admits that perhaps, just perhaps, he committed an egregious error. That maybe he misjudged my behavior. Perhaps he was in the wrong. Jim acknowledged that it had taken a tremendous amount of strength for me to discard him. A strength I had not had at the beginning of our relationship. Sure, the sex had been a power trip for him, but he had never physically harmed me, so could it have really been so bad? He promised he would never again repeat such behavior, and then admonished me not to share his confessional words with anyone. They were for my eyes only. I shudder at those memories.

 “I guess one reason I’m writing this is to convince myself that I’m not quite as evil as you think I am. I must have hurt you pretty bad for you to go and go out with Bart right off the bat without a “period of mourning” or anything like that. I know that you need someone with you or you get even more unhappy, but still. I hope sometime you sit down and think about all the things we did together. I told you everything about every bit of me, Susan, you know it all. I showed you all of my favorite places, got you to do all of my favorite activities, and had you meet all of my favorite people. I took you camping, skiing and biking. I took you to my church to meet my friends there. I helped you write a term paper in 5 hours and I helped you pass New Testament. I tried to encourage you to get out and do things on your own. I took you to the beach. I had you at my house 3 or 4 times. I took you to Boston to meet my closest friends. Do you remember any of that?”

<snip>

“I still can’t believe you don’t feel the way I do. Either I hurt you so much that you really do dislike me, or I was horribly mistaken about the depth of your feelings about me. Here I am still trying to decide whether I can ever look at another girl and not think about you, and you’re already spending the nights with another guy.

 If what we did made you feel “used” then I am terribly, terribly sorry. I have vowed to never let that happen again in any future relationship of mine, and I mean it. Maybe it took you breaking up with me for me to do that.”

<snip>

“I really don’t think it is all my fault, we are both responsible. I know I made you miserable by “using” you, but I think you’ve gotten me back. You often insulted me in public, and you used to call me “it” instead of “he” Basically, you never gave two shits about any of the things I care about, and you made no attempt to hide it.”

<snip>

“Here’s my analysis of how she feels:  She’s unhappy. I have been using her, I haven’t spent enough time with her and I don’t talk enough to suit her. She hates her classes, she hates where she’s living, she’s homesick. In general there is very little here that appeals to her. (There used to be one thing here that appealed to her, and that was me. But I don’t have that effect anymore.)”

<snip>

“When she started going out with me, she could hardly live without me. It must have taken a lot of strength and courage to go from that complete need, to breaking up with me and not looking back. On the other hand it would take more courage still to look back and see what I’m doing, how I’m feeling, and she hasn’t done that.

 I know I’ve gotten bitterly sarcastic, but I certainly hope that if I ever give this to Susan that she doesn’t get upset by it. I know she’d be angered by the sentence, “New boyfriend means all problems solved!” I guess the feelings behind that last paragraph are ample demonstration of why we broke up: her simplicity, and my sarcasm and lack of respect toward her because of that simplicity. OH! But there are so many worse things to be than what she is. I’ll take her simplicity any day over the hateful, coy, condescending thoughts I see in so many people. I really did love her, I just didn’t respect her.

 But I liked her as well as those things (love and respect); and I want to keep on liking her. Obviously she realized a while back that I didn’t respect her, and has reacted strongly against me. I can’t really blame her. The sex was just a manifestation of that lack of respect on my part. What I have done is horrible, but still I hope she forgives me, because now I want to be friends with her.”

  *          *          *

 Jim’s version of events is decidedly different from mine. He blames me for his melancholy. I blame him for not recognizing his own poor behavior toward me. I knew what I was doing was hurtful, and did it on purpose. He claims ignorance. He should have known better. We’ll never reconcile.

[windermereluxuryproperty-blog]

Vacation Homes Orlando Fl

Sun, Aug 06, 2017 at 7:20AM

If you are looking for vacation homes for sale in Orlando Florida. Or likely in the Orlando area. You came to the right site. This will not be the typical blog filled with things most affluent people already know. This article is for people who can afford a vacation home. You can call it a second home if you intend on renting it out. However a Vacation home should be treated differently. A vacation home is a getaway home. As in ready for you when you feel like getting away. It is what almost wealthy people dream about having so they can look wealthy. So they can feel like they made it. I have owned more than 1 home. However I have never owned a vacation home. But I do live in Windermere Florida. I live in a lakefront home and watch the fireworks at Universal on the other side of the lake at 9pm every night. Our home serves as our extended family's vacation home.

I will spend most of this article sharing with you information about different areas in and around Orlando which are good places to buy vacation homes. My brother is a CPA. He could tell you all about the financial aspects of owning a second home, a vacation home or owning just one home. I am a Realtor in Windermere Florida. My role is to know my area and be good at helping you buy, sell or rent properties.  

I realize you probably have more money than I do. You know what you want. I  can help you find it and probably get it for less money. I will do a great job and you will use Wendy Morris Realty again and probably even refer business to us. We can also see that it is maintained and waiting on you to visit it.

Now, congratulations. I truly mean that. People work hard for their money. Those born into it work hard to keep it. It is an awesome accomplishment to find yourself able to afford a vacation home. Even if you want to rent it out periodically.

We are experts at property management of vacation homes. A home left empty only to be occupied by you when you want it. Some people make the mistake of leaving a home dormant until they arrive for their vacation. They may spend their whole vacation under the stress of getting the home repaired. Or end up cutting their vacation short. You do not want to be an example in someone's blog about why not to own a vacation home. A home should be left alive and breathing. If you do this will have far less repairs and your home will thank you when you visit by making your stay pleasurable. Like a vacation. The air conditioning does not have to be set 60. It should be set at or slightly above the normal operating temperature of the home. The lights should be on timers. It is 2017 and smart houses are all the rage. You can program just about everything. You can even answer your door from the other side of the planet. You want great neighbors and you want your home to look lived in during the late evening.

Plan on the same home services you would need if you lived in the home. We commonly help investors with this so do not be concerned. We use fair priced reputable providers. You may also arrange for myself or someone else to go by periodically to make sure all is well. Or even provide your home with the necessities you require before you visit.

The remainder of this article will be based on the assumption you are purchasing a vacation home for $1,000,000 or more. The communities and areas I list may or may not have homes for less than that. If you desire to spend less than $1,000,000 we can easily make that adjustment. I have written articles on 200 of the communities in SW Orlando alone. I know the area quite well. Orlando and SW of Orlando including the areas around the parks usually have around 300 homes on the market for $1,000,000 or more.

Vacation Homes For Sale In Orlando Florida

As you can see the Vacation homes are in clusters.  Here are the differences in the areas. The Northwestern area is an older neighborhood. It is close to Interstate 4. However the local culture is a relaxed type and plan on doing some driving to get to most of the better restaurants etc. It is a nice area but as you notice there are very few homes of value to it's West. In fact there is only one and it has over 20 acres. While there are some nice modern communities in Orlando's Northwest they are not close together. Most of this is because Lake Apopka has a mean depth of just 7 feet. It has issues and it is no longer a touristy destination. Back in the early 1900's it was filled with giant cedars and Clarke Gable loved to fish there. Unfortunately Cedar is and always will be a popular wood. The rest was a travesty of a lack of regulation and environmental respect.

The Northeastern Section is a newer section than its Western Counterpart. Many of the homes are in Baldwin Park and around or near Lake Baldwin. This is a great area in Orlando to look for a vacation home. Northeastern Orlando is the home of the best art museums, modern shopping, parks, nearby hospitals and the Orlando Executive Airport. There are many reasons that you see a cluster of million dollar homes for sale there. The best steakhouse in Orlando is also in the Northeastern section near the art museums. It is a beautiful area. In case you are curious it takes about 25-30 minutes to drive from Baldwin Park to Universal Resort on a Saturday morning.

When you look at the center of this map you will see the red dot. Around it are the high rises or the skyline of Orlando Florida. Believe it or not only 4 of those homes for sale are condos/ The rest are traditional homes. Orlando is not New York City. The downtown area is well laid out and like New York you can and should get down there and walk around at least once.

The Southeastern cluster of homes is just Northwest of the Orlando airport. Not in the approach flight path but near it. What draws people to this area is the fact it is a lake community. Most if not all of the homes we are looking at will be lakefront on Lake Conway. There is a Lake Conway and a Little Lake Conway but both are connected. The lake is a clean lake compared to most and has a total surface area of just under 3 square miles. The homes that are over a million will average about 1.25 million. 1.5 million gets a very nice home there.

Commuting from the Lake Conway area is pretty easy with the 527 being relatively close to the homes  It runs North and South so getting to downtown Orlando or commuting to the parks is pretty easy. Disney's Magic Kingdom will be a 30 minute drive and Universal Resort about 20 minutes. Golf commuting is similar. You will likely go to Lake Nona Country Club, Isleworth, Keene's Point or the Bay Hill Club. There are many more but if you are an avid golfer you may recognized those courses. Lake Nona also has some homes that are on this list below.

Most Popular Area For Vacation Homes

Although I will gladly help you with any purchase in the Orlando area. This is my primary area of operation. I live here and know this area fairly well. There are more million dollar homes here than all of Orlando. Shaq has an awesome home in Isleworth on Lake Butler. Tiger Woods has a home here and I could make that list much longer. This is the part of Greater Orlando with the best lakes, golf, restaurants as a whole and of course all of the theme parks are here. Not to worry they are easy to avoid also. As long as you are not around their parking facilities they have very little affect on traffic flow. Universal is near I-4 and Disney is Southwest of everything. Easy to visit and easy to leave. It's a small world after all.

This area is made up mostly of 2 towns and one area of Orlando. The two towns are Winter Garden Florida and Windermere Florida. The area of Orlando is known as Dr Phillips. Dr Phillips was a wealthy man who donated his wealth to the area and much more. He is famous for his work with orange groves, orange juice and philanthropy. You will see his Dr Phillips Center For The Performing Arts in downtown Orlando also. However Dr Phillips is the area West of Universal Resort to the shores of Lake Tibet. Windermere and Winter Garden are smaller cities than they will be given credit for. I will use their names for describing the area within their zip codes. The names Windermere and Winter Garden are in the mailing address for much more than the incorporated cities.

Windermere Florida

Windermere is the town associated with 34786. Windermere is also normally associated with Isleworth, Keene's Pointe and many other affluent lakefront communities. Windermere has the Butler Chain of Lakes which is 11 lakes that are mostly connected. Lake Butler and Lake Down are the most popular with Lake Tibet being a close third place finisher. Lakefront homes on the Butler Chain of Lakes can easily get into the 4-5 million dollar range. There are occasionally older homes that go up for sale and are replaced with newer properties and they are closely watched. I have an alert set up for myself where I know as soon as they are listed. If you want to live in an area where you get a lakefront view of Universals Resort's nightly fireworks display and Beautiful Sunrises or sunsets this is a great place. If you want to be around the best golf in Florida if not the entire USA this is a great place. Also it takes me just 20 minutes to be in downtown Orlando. I never need to go unless it is for work. Windermere has everything and is being rapidly modernized. To see more about Windermere and some Windermere Fl homes for sale click here. There is also a 10 minute video of the town of Windermere. I would skip the first 1:45 of it.

Winter Garden Florida

Winter Garden Florida is a great place to live. Although not as focused on the affluent and their desires Southern Winter Garden is rapidly evolving into a modern group of communities. Many of which have beautiful lakefront homes. Most of Winter Garden is not thought of as a place for vacation homes. That may be changing soon. Communities like Deer Pointe, Waterside and Hickory Hammock on John's Lake offer some incredible lakefront properties.

In Southern Winter Garden (34787) you have Lake Hancock. Lake Hancock has it's share of lakefront homes and is in the epicenter of Horizons West. It is a stones throw to Disney or the Daniel Webster 429 Toll Road for commuting to downtown Orlando or anywhere else. They are building new everything there and many of the homes are in that $800,000+ range. I would go well over 3000 words describing the communities there. So click here to see Winter Garden Fl homes for sale. Also to see it's history and a great video of Centennial Park in it's downtown area. Many a celebrity has walked those streets back in the 1900's and the classic parts have been restored not torn down.

Dr Phillips/Orlando

Dr Phillips is a great area for a Vacation home. It is highly thought of locally and has some very nice communities. Rich in history and culture it has not failed to progressively change and modernize. There are many lakefront properties in Dr Phillips on Lake Tibet. If you want to be closer to the action then Lakeside Toscana or Toscana are really good choices. Under 1.5 million will get you a very nice lakeview or lakefront home near Universal Resort. The big money is on Lake Tibet. Isle of Osprey and Bentley Park are two very exclusive neighborhoods there. See the Million Dollar Homes In Dr Phillips Here. Dr Phillips has a lot more to offer. Modern Shopping, Restaurant Row and Arnold Palmer's Bay Hill Club just to name a few.

Another Perk of living in Dr Phillips is I-4 is so close. Commuting is a breeze. You can be in downtown Orlando in 15-20 minutes on average. Orlando International Airport is also easily accessible. Not that you really ever need to leave. The Florida Mall and Mall at Millenia will keep you happy if you run out of stores in Dr Phillips. The Mall at Millenia has mostly higher end stores and The Florida Mall has some unique stores in it. Including a Disney Store,Crayola and a M&M store. That may seem silly but when you take grandchildren there they love it trust me. Our granddaughter loves it there. Here is a link to much more on Dr Phillips.There are more potential vacation homes between Dr Phillips and Celebration. If you are interested contact us and we can start looking for and with you.

Lake Nona

Lake Nona is East-Southeast of Orlando International Airport. There will be some airplane traffic. The times I have been over there I truthfully have not noticed. What I did notice was a beautiful golfing community that you would not notice if you were not looking for the entrance. Recently the Lake Nona area has been discovered. I would not say it is growing as rapidly as Horizons West but it is growing and has a lot of high end homes. Lake Nona Has 4 communities which would make for a good place for a Vacation Home. You can see more about those Lake Nona communities here.

Commuting From Lake Nona is not as easy as from the other communities. Sometimes it takes me 30 minutes on an average traffic day to get over there. Some people visit Lake Nona and fall in love with it. Commuting to Vacation style attractions does take a little longer. Getting to downtown Orlando is still relatively easy. Lake Nona is worth a closer look it just has not been as popular as some other areas. These are its' best selling points. Most people do not know it is there yet, the nicer communities are all gated and modern, the area has plenty of stores with the things you will need and little to no touristy traffic. Finally it is the home of the Lake Nona Golf and Country Club. The Club is beautiful and has many great features. Not to mention Lake Nona which has almost 1 square mile of surface area. For those who do not golf the Lake Nona Golf and Country Club also has at least 6 very nice tennis courts and plenty of other things to keep you enjoying your vacation home in Florida.

[viral-now-co]

Manchester terror attack: 19 dead, 59 injured at Manchester Arena

Full details of travel disruption this morning

We’ve just published a full round-up of public transport disruption and road closures.

(Photo: Joel Goodman)

Jeremy Corbyn: All general election campaigning suspended

Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn has echoed Theresa May’s statement earlier to say that the general election campaign has been suspended until further notice.

Labour has just released this statement from the party leader.

I am horrified by the horrendous events in Manchester last night. My thoughts are with families and friends of those who have died and been injured.

Today the whole country will grieve for the people who have lost their lives.

I have spoken with Andy Burnham, the mayor of Manchester, who has fully briefed me on the operational response in the city.

I would like to pay tribute to the emergency services for their bravery and professionalism in dealing with last night’s appalling events.

I have spoken with the Prime Minister and we have agreed that that all national campaigning in the general election will be suspended until further notice.

Health workers in Manchester for conference offer to help care for injured

Health workers visiting Manchester have offered to pitch in to help care for those injured in an explosion at a concert in the city.

NHS staff attending a conference in the city offered support to local hospitals treating the wounded.

North West Ambulance NHS Trust sent 60 ambulances to the scene of the suspected terror attack. It said that 59 casualties had been taken to nearby hospitals and a number of walking wounded were treated at the scene.

Greater Manchester Police said that the injured were being treated at six local hospitals.

Kirsty Withers, a theatre clinical manager at University Hospitals of Morecambe Bay (UHMB) NHS Foundation Trust, offered assistance to Manchester Royal Infirmary online, writing:

“We are visiting for a health conference from morecambe bay trust tomorrow 3 Theatre ODPs available if needed.”

Stuart Hosking-Durn, an emergency preparedness, resilience and response professional with UHMB, also used Twitter to offer help, posting:

“Do you need extra hands, we have staff in Manchester, have ID and can attend.”

Mancunian GP Faizan Awan tweeted:

“If you need any help doing clinical work either on wards or minors, let me know. Can be with you in 10 minutes.”

GMP: Help and assistance on offer at Etihad Stadium

Important information here for anyone who needs help or assistance after last night’s events

Terror of sisters caught up in explosion

I’ve just spoken to 20-year-old Jess and her dad David who have just left Wythenshawe Hospital. Jess was with her sister Hannah, 17, at the Ariana Grande concert last night.

Describing the moment she heard the huge explosion she said:

“We had just come through the main doors near the McDonalds and we’d stopped just a few metres away. I just heard this blast and knew straight away what it was.

“My sister was on the floor face down. She had been thrown down, a few people had. I don’t know how I wasn’t.

“I knew what it was. I could see smoke and that sound could not have been anything else. I just knew we had to get out of there.

“My sister picked herself up and her hand was covered in blood. It’s badly damaged. I just grabbed her and screamed ‘you need to run’ and dragged her to the football museum.

“The NHS staff have been amazing. I was not injured but I was in shock. they still had space for me.”

The girls’ dad, David, had parked up by Parkers, close to the arena, ready to pick his daughters up after the concert. He said he heard the ‘unmistakable’ sound of an explosion and immediately started running towards the venue.

“I just heard this humongous thud of a blast. I knew what it was but I couldn’t see smoke.

“Jess ran and said ‘come and get us, Hannah has been hurt’. “I was shouting for her but she couldn’t hear because the blast had damaged her ears.

“We started to walk away as the emergency services were arriving.”

The family drove to Stepping Hill hospital before being transferred to Wythenshawe at around 2am. Hannah is staying as an inpatient at the hospital awaiting surgery to her damaged hand.

David, who spoke to the M.E.N while wearing a white blood spattered top, added:

“Every operating theatre in there is full. It’s very quiet and calm. Nobody is jumping around, they’re all doing their jobs. It’s very impressive. It sticks two finger up to the people who did this.”

‘Number of casualties’ treated at Salford Royal

“Salford Royal has treated a number of casualties from the Manchester Arena incident and would like to attend the public please do not attend A&E unless it is absolutely urgent.”

“GMP have made an emergency number available for anyone concerned about loved ones or anyone who may have been in the area. The number is 0161 856 9400.

“We can’t give any more details at this time.”

City centre road closures in place

Cordons in place this morning run around the Arena. Miller Street and Shudehill are closed to traffic.

Also closed on is a small stretch of Rochdale Road, Cheetham Hill Road and Trinity Way up to Chapel Street.

#RoomForManchester – Mancunians rally round to help those in need

In our city’s darkest hour, hundreds of Mancunians offered help to those in need.

Minutes after news broke of the Manchester Arena terror attack there was an outpouring of love and support. Members of the public issued offers of help to anyone who was affected by the tragedy.

The moving offers included rooms to anyone who was stuck in the city, lifts out of the city centre, hot drinks or even a simple hug in the aftermath.

Terrifying accounts of eyewitnesses and the injured

Many people have been sharing their horrific experiences over the last few hours.

“It was one massive bang and then I saw smoke. I heard someone shout ‘bomb’ and then everyone started running. It was carnage. People were injured by being trampled as they tried to get out. It was absolute carnage.”

(Photo: Joel Goodman)

‘Anxious’ atmosphere at MRI

One surgeon at MRI just told me he had been dealing with some of the casualties but wasn’t able to tell me their injuries.

He said there was an ‘anxious’ atmosphere in A&E.

Salford Royal – do not come to A&E unless it’s an emergency

Salford Royal have issued this statement:

“We’re still treating patients and can’t confirm the number at this time as it is a dynamic and constantly evolving situation with patients coming in and out all the time.

“We are currently working with both patients’ families and the police on site.

“Due to the current situation we would advise people to not attend A&E unless it’s an emergency.”

Waiting area of Royal Oldham empty

Police car at the entrance of Oldham Hospital A&E. Nobody in waiting area.

60 ambulances attended incident

North West Ambulance Service says that 60 of its ambulances attended last night’s incident.

(Photo: Vince Cole)

Victoria station closed on Tuesday – changes to train services

Northern has announced details of its train services which will run to and from Manchester on Tuesday 23 May.

Manchester Victoria remains closed to the public and is unlikely to re-open until Wednesday morning at the earliest.

As a result of the closure there will be no services operating to or from Manchester Victoria until further notice.

Rob Warnes, Performance and Planning Director at Northern, said: “Manchester Victoria will remain closed on Tuesday as British Transport Police and Greater Manchester Police continue their investigation.

“We have worked to provide as many services as possible on Tuesday, though all services may be subject to short notice cancellations and delays as we strive to keep people on the move.”

Northern will operate services on the following routes to replace those which would normally call at Manchester

Huddersfield – Stalybridge

Wigan – Salford (via Atherton)

Leeds – Rochdale

Blackpool – Manchester Oxford Road

Clitheroe – Bolton – Blackburn

Kirby – Wigan

Northern is also working to provide a limited bus service between Rochdale and Manchester, but the details are yet to be confirmed.

Normal services will run into and out of Manchester Piccadilly to and from all south Manchester destinations. In addition the following services will operate as normal

Blackpool – Bolton – Manchester Piccadilly – Manchester Airport

Southport – Bolton – Manchester Piccadilly – Manchester Airport

Liverpool – Manchester Piccadilly – Manchester Airport

Preston – Manchester Piccadilly – Hazel Grove

Rob added: “The thoughts of everyone at Northern are with those affected by last night’s horrific incident and we ask all our customers to show patience and understanding as we work with colleagues across the industry to deliver as strong a rail service as possible.”

Hospital staff member’s shock

I spoke to a member of staff here at Wythenshawe hospital earlier who described how shocked she was at the news. Almost on the verge of tears she said she could barely believe that such an attack had happened in Manchester.

Ariana Grande reacts

The American pop star had just finished her concert at Manchester Arena when the explosions happened.

and this is from her manager:

Alarms still blaring at Arena

The alarms can still be heard blaring inside the Arena as the police helicopter still circles overhead.

— Chris Slater (@chrisslaterMEN) May 23, 2017

On-call minister at Wythenshawe hospital

An on call minister is here at Wythenshawe to support patients and families here tonight.

Only emergency access to North Manchester General

North Manchester General is currently on lockdown and only allowing access to emergency patients and ambulances. Security are guarding the entrance of the road to the main car park and questioning people as they arrive.

Pictures from the scene show bomb squad and heavily armed officers

(Photo: Joel Goodman)

(Photo: Joel Goodman)

(Photo: Joel Goodman)

GMP chief constable’s statement in full

Here is the statement that Chief Constable Ian Hopkins made a short time ago:

Video captures moment of explosion

This new video captures the moment of the explosion, and the panic that begun to grip the crowd

Ambulance service: 59 taken to hospital

An update on casualty figures from North West Ambulance Service.

Emergency number set up for worried relatives

An emergency number has been set up that anyone worried about relatives can call – it is 0161 856 9400

GMP chief constable issues update

GMP Chief Constable Ian Hopkins has just held a press conference to give the latest information.

He confirms that there at 19 people dead and 50 others injured. Casualties are being treated at six hospitals across Greater Manchester.

He also confirmed it was being treated as a terrorist incident.

How to give blood

Although people are being asked not to go to hospitals overnight to allow casualties to be treated, there are a number of places open tomorrow that you can go to to give blood.

More ambulances arrive at Arena

Still lots of emergency service activity around the Arena:

‘We must not let these monsters change Manchester’

Manchester council’s city centre chief Pat Karney has just tweeted this:

Councillor Pat Karney

What we know so far

We’ve brought together what we know so far about the attack.

Source

http://www.manchestereveningnews.co.uk/news/greater-manchester-news/manchester-arena-explosion-evacuated-ariana-13075807

The post Manchester terror attack: 19 dead, 59 injured at Manchester Arena appeared first on Viral Now.

from Viral Now https://viralnow.co/manchester-terror-attack-19-dead-59-injured-at-manchester-arena/

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August 2020 saw no soca floats sliding along West London’s Ladbroke Grove. No pink feathered wings or giant plumes of headwear. The Notting Hill Carnival was canceled, like all mass gatherings in late COVID lockdown, the streets still spare, the air still choked with grief. No curry goat or jerk pan smoke rose up into the city trees. And the music, the great churning music of the Caribbean islands, of Black Britain, of Africa and the Americas, did not thump to the foundations of the neighborhood terraces, making them tremble.

All of this would have been part of a normal summer for Edward Enninful while growing up in the area in the 1980s. His mother Grace might look out of the window of her sewing room in their house right on the Carnival route, and see some manifestation of Trinidad going by, or a reggae crew, wrapped in amazing sculptures of bikini and shiny hosiery. Edward, one of six siblings, would stay out late and take it in, all that sound and spectacle, which for decades has been the triumphant annual pinnacle of London’s cultural and racial multiplicity.

It was this world that nurtured his creativity and helped shape the vision he has brought to the pages of British Vogue since being appointed editor in chief in 2017. “I was always othered,” Enninful says on a nostalgic walk through the streets of Ladbroke Grove, a much gentrified, still bohemian part of London, where he moved with his family from Ghana at the age of 13, “you know, gay, working-class, Black. So for me it was very important with Vogue to normalize the marginalized, because if you don’t see it, you don’t think it’s normal.”

Today, Enninful is the most powerful Black man in his industry, sitting at the intersection of fashion and media, two fields that are undergoing long-overdue change and scrambling to make up for years of negligence and malpractice. Since becoming the only Black editor in history to head any of the 26 Vogue magazines—the most influential publications in the multibillion-dollar global fashion trade—he has been tipped as the successor to Anna Wintour, the iconic editor of American Vogue and artistic director for Condé Nast. The privately held company is navigating, on top of an advertising market battered by the COVID-19 pandemic, public controversies around representation both in its offices and on its pages.

Wayne Tippetts—ShutterstockEnninful at London Fashion Week on Feb. 16, 2019.

Enninful’s vision for British Vogue comes at a critical moment for the international publisher. “I wanted to reflect what I saw here growing up, to show the world as this incredibly rich, cultured place. I wanted every woman to be able to find themselves in the magazine.” He chose the British model Adwoa Aboah to front his first issue, in 2017: “When others took steps, Edward took massive strides, showing the importance of our visibility and stories,” she says. Covers since have featured the likes of Oprah Winfrey, Rihanna, Judi Dench (at 85, British Vogue’s oldest cover star), Madonna and soccer player Marcus Rashford, photographed for this year’s September issue by Misan Harriman, the first Black male photographer to shoot a British Vogue cover in its 104-year history. While other publications, including American Vogue, have reduced frequency during the pandemic, British Vogue has remained financially stable and is still producing 12 thick issues in 2020.

Under Enninful, British Vogue has morphed from a white-run glossy of the bourgeois oblivious into a diverse and inclusive on-point fashion platform, shaking up the imagery, tracking the contemporary pain. Its shelf presence is different—more substance, more political—and perhaps in part because of it, the shelf as a whole looks different. No more do Black women search mainstream newsstands in vain for visions of themselves. Now we are ubiquitous in my newsagent, in my corner shop, and it really wasn’t that hard; all it took was to give a Black man some power, to give someone with a gift, a voice and a view from the margin a seat at the table.

“My Blackness has never been a hindrance to me,” Enninful says. Yet he is no stranger to the passing abuses of systemic racism. On a Wednesday in mid-July, while entering British Vogue’s London headquarters, he was racially profiled by a security guard who told him to enter via the loading bay instead. “Just because our timelines and weekends are returning to normal, we cannot let the world return to how it was,” he wrote on Twitter. This summer, in the wake of worldwide Black Lives Matter protests sparked by the killing of George Floyd, we are seeing a seismic reckoning across industries, scrutinizing who is doing what and who is not doing enough to bring about real change in equality and representation. “My problem is that there’s a lot of virtue-signaling going on,” he says. “But everyone’s listening now, and we need to take advantage of that. This is not the time for tiptoeing.”

We meet at Ladbroke Grove tube station in a late-summer noon. When anticipating an interview with the leader of a historic luxury fashion bible, it’s tempting to have inferior thoughts about your Nissan or your Clarks boot collection or your latest unlatest something, but Enninful, 48, is unassuming, arriving in a loose navy suit, pale blue shirt and shades, the only giveaway to his sartorial imperium the no socks with his brogues. He is warm and relaxed, bearing the close-shouldered tilt of the lifelong hard worker; he rises at 5 a.m. most days to meditate before work.

I-D: Nick Towers; Vogue Italia: Steven Meisel From left: a Fashion Week report by Enninful in I-D’s January 1995 issue; Naomi Campbell on Vogue Italia in July 2008.

These days he resides toward Lancaster Gate, on the posher side of Ladbroke Grove, with his long-term partner the filmmaker Alec Maxwell and their Boston terrier, Ru Enninful, who has his own Instagram account and whose daily walking was a saving grace during lockdown. But the London Underground is where Enninful’s journey into fashion began, one day on the train in a pair of ripped blue jeans, when he was spotted by stylist Simon Foxton as a potential model for i-D, the avant-garde British fashion magazine. Being only 16, a shy, sheltered kid who grew up in a Ghanaian army barracks and who was less than four years in the U.K., of course he had to ask his mother. Albeit a clothes fanatic herself, a professional seamstress and regular rifler (with Edward) through the markets of Porto-bello and Brixton for fabrics, Grace was wary of the hedonistic London style vortex, the enormity of the new land, and reluctant to release her son into its mouth. He begged. He wore her down: “I knew I couldn’t just walk away from this, that something special was going to come out of it.”

He never had the knack for modeling, he says with characteristic humility. “I was terrible at it. I hated the castings, all that objectifying. But I loved the process and the craft of creating an image.” He soon moved to the other side of the lens, assisting on shoots and assembling image concepts and narratives, a particular approach to styling that impressed i-D enough to hire him as their youngest ever fashion director at only 18, a post he held for the next 20 years. Without the courtesy designer clothes later at his fingertips, he would customize, shred, dye and bargain for the right look, using the skills he’d developed at home in the sewing room. “I realized that I could say a lot with fashion,” he says, “that it wasn’t just about clothes, but could tell a story of the times we’re in, about people’s experiences in life. And that freedom to portray the world as you saw it.”

What was innate to Enninful—this blend of skilled creativity with the perception of difference as normal, as both subject and audience—was relatively unique in an industry dominated by white, colonial notions of beauty and mainstream. Legendary Somali supermodel Iman remembers a 2014 W magazine shoot in which she, Naomi Campbell and Rihanna were cast by Enninful, the publication’s then style director, wearing Balmain, designed by Olivier Rousteing. “Until Edward appeared, no one at the mainstream fashion magazines would have cared to commission a portrait exclusively featuring three women of color, and furthermore who were all wearing clothes designed by a person of color,” she says. “He’s an editor in vocation and a reformer at heart, compelled to spur woefully needed social change.”

Courtesy Jamie Hawkesworth and Condé Nast Britain Train driver Narguis Horsford, on British Vogue’s July 2020 issue.

He shows me his various old haunts and abodes, the top-floor bedsit where he used to haul bags of styling gear up the stairs, the Lisboa and O’Porto cafés of Golborne Road—or “Little Morocco”—where he’d sit for hours chewing the fat with people like makeup artist Pat McGrath, Kate Moss, Nick Kamen and photographer David Sims. Name-drops fall from his lips like insignificant diamonds—stylists, photographers, celebrities—but he navigates his domain in a manner apparently uncommon among fashion’s gatekeepers. Winfrey says of him, “I have never experienced in all my dealings with people in that world anyone who was more kind and generous of spirit. I mean, it just doesn’t happen.”

Her shoot for the August 2018 cover of British Vogue left Winfrey feeling “empress-like,” and she ascribes his understanding of Black female beauty to his being raised by a Black mother. “Edward understands that images are political, that they say who and what matters,” she adds. Enninful’s father Crosby, a major in the Ghanaian army who was part of U.N. operations in Egypt and Lebanon, had thought that his bright, studious son would eventually grow out of his fascination with clothes and become a lawyer. But three months into an English literature degree at Goldsmiths, University of London, studying Hardy, Austen and the usual classics, thinking maybe he’d be a writer, or indeed a lawyer, Enninful quit to take up the position at i-D. His father did not speak to him for around 15 years, into the next century, until Grace suffered a stroke and entered a long illness. “Now that I’m older, I realize he just wanted to protect us. He’s come to understand that I had to follow my heart and forge my own path.”

He credits his parents for his strong work ethic—“drummed into you from a very early age by Black parents, that you have to work twice as hard”—and his Ghanaian heritage for his eye for color. His approach to fashion as narrative comes from the “childish games I would play with my mother,” creating characters around the clothes, sketching them out. “I can’t just shoot clothes off the runway,” he says. “There always has to be a character, and that character has to have an inner life.” Since Grace’s death three years ago, his father has lived alone by the Grand Union Canal and is very proud of his son, particularly of the Order of the British Empire awarded to him by Queen Elizabeth II in 2016 for his services to diversity in fashion. The Queen, incidentally, is high on Enninful’s list of Vogue cover dreams.

The British Vogue Enninful inherited from former editor in chief Alexandra Shulman three years ago was starkly different from today’s rendition. During her 25 years in charge, only 12 covers out of 306 featured Black women, and she left behind an almost entirely white workforce. Now the editorial team is 25% people of color—“I needed certain lieutenants in place,” he says—and similar shufflings are being called for over at Condé Nast in New York. Enninful is reluctant to tarnish names any further, maintaining that Shulman “represented her time, I represent mine,” and declining to comment on the U.S. headquarters.

Courtesy Edward Enninful A Polaroid of Enninful in the 1990s from his personal collection.

Enninful’s rise is particularly meaningful to people like André Leon Talley, former editor at large of American Vogue, where Enninful also worked as a contributing editor. Talley describes the new British Vogue as “extraordinary,” and was joyous at Enninful’s appointment. “He speaks for the unsung heroes, particularly those outside the privileged white world that Vogue originally stood for. He has changed what a fashion magazine should be.”

“I’m a custodian,” Enninful says of his role, sitting in a sumptuous alcove of the club bar at Electric House. “Vogue existed before I came, and it will still exist when I leave, but I knew that I had to go in there and do what I really believed in. It’s our responsibility as storytellers or image makers to try to disrupt the status quo.” Ironically, though, he does not see himself as an activist, rather as someone who is unafraid to tackle political issues and educate others, while remaining firmly within the Vogue lens. “They said Black girls on the cover don’t sell,” he says. “People thought diversity equals down-market, but we’ve shown that it’s just good for business.” British Vogue’s digital traffic is up 51% since Enninful took over. He previously edited the 2008 Black issue of Vogue Italia, which featured only Black models and Black women and sold out in the U.S. and the U.K. in just 72 hours.

Since the incident with the security guard in July—which Enninful reveals was not isolated and had happened before (the culprit, a third-party employee, was dismissed from headquarters)—building staff have been added to the company’s diversity-and-inclusion trainings. Enninful would also like to see financial aid put in place for middle management, “because we forget sometimes that the culture of a place does not allow you to go from being a student to the top.” In 2013, he tweeted about another incident, where he was seated in the second row at a Paris couture show while his white counterparts were placed in front. “I get racially profiled all the time,” he says, going right back to his first experience of being stopped and searched as a teenager, which “petrified” him. “When I was younger, I would’ve been hurt and withdrawn, but now I will let you know that this is not O.K. People tend to think that if you’re successful it eliminates you, but it can happen any day. The difference now is that I have the platform to speak about it and point it out. The only way we can smash systemic racism is by doing it together.”

Campbell Addy for TIMEBritish Vogue editor in chief Enninful in Ladbroke Grove, London, on Aug. 31.

Activism, then, is intrinsic. Fashion is altruism, as much as story and craft, as much as the will to capture beauty. For Enninful, there is no limitation to the radicalism possible through his line of work. Rather than the seemingly unattainable elements of style (the £350 zirconia ring, the £2,275 coat) obscuring the moral fiber of the message, the invitation to think and see more openly, the style instead leads you to it, perhaps even inviting you to assemble something similar within the boundaries of your real, more brutal, less elevated existence. “Relatable luxury,” he calls it, and though it’s difficult to imagine exactly how one might evoke a £2,275 coat without his customizing skills and magical thinking, I am inclined to accept the notion, partly because I saw soul singer Celeste in a £1,450 dress in the September issue and think I might give it a try. Anything is possible. “I still feel like I’m at the beginning,” he says with palpable optimism. “I feel the fire of something new.”

—With reporting by Cady Lang/New York and Madeline Roache/London

Evans is the author of Ordinary People, The Wonder and 26a

Cover photo: Styling: Susan Bender; Suit, sweater, shoes: Burberry