#avey originals

[mi1kw33d-2]

ao3 is crazy because you'll read the most gut-wrenching 200k word slowburn that leaves you sobbing into your sweater at four in the morning and the author will be applejacksmonstercock

[mi1kw33d-2]

its always piss. i luv the house md fandom but y does everyone have a piss kink. ive tried 2 many times to just deal with it but i need to specifically filter it out because theres always something piss-related

When you’re in the middle of a fic and realise you’ve missed a very critical tag

[vampiricbisexuality]

Must go now methinks. :((((( I'll miss you all!!!! I'll try to log on tomorrow!!!!!!! I'm spending Christmas Eve with my mom thoipugh so idk.... Agh. :(((

[hhyphae]

drawings on things other than paper

[mi1kw33d-2]

OH MY GOD IVE DREAMED ABOUT THIS

@atlasrayz ARE U HAPPY FOR ME

^tagged by @soctherapy but the post was getting too long

this isnt a win for me.......

Tags!: @rae-unbeloved @lil-gae-disaster @fictionalcharactergraveyard @livelaughlovelams @alexanderhamiltonhasafatass

[vomitgulper]

Pro tip odd shutterstock photos make for really good reference photos

[et-cant-phone-home-no-signal]

Avery Price - A small introduction

realised i've never actually posted my cowgirl on here? thought i had but it turns out that was reddit, so, here's a little look into my rdo character avery, also known as aves or avey <3

this was her original story, which in my head still stands and works: Avery was born into a family of ranch-hands in Blackwater and grew up around horses. However, as automobiles became more standard, Avery apprenticed under a local garage and learned how to fix up cars as well. She has two older sisters, both of whom stayed in Blackwater with Avery’s parents, whilst she moved to Valentine when she was 17. She works as a shop assistant Monday to Thursday, and works looking after the local horses Friday to Sunday.

her and her sisters don't get on well anymore, and she's the black sheep in her parent's eyes. her shop assistant job eventually bored her so she began taking other odd jobs for excitement, eventually branching into the life of a wandering jack of all trades (to the best of her capabilities). a bit vague tbh but i kinda like playing around with her too much for anything concrete, even though i've had her on file since 2021. oh, how did she get her scar? i think she slipped on the wet floor in the saloon slammed her nose into the bar and broke it, but that doesn't sound cool, so she pretends she got it in a brawl instead (ha, loser)

her horses are sayen, callie and nita, all strong mares. (sayen is a blue roan coat missouri fox trottter, callie is a sorrel coat breton, and nita is a black chestnut coat thoroughbred). i'm going to get her a tobiano coat american paint for story purposes because in my head that's the horse she left home with, but i got so swept away with playing the game i never got around to it - the tobiano coat will be called mona.

personality wise, in my mind avery is the quiet but deadly type; she's been out by herself for a while now and unfortunately got taken advantage of a few times, so now she's not one to chat quickly. she isn't 'shoot first, talk later', but get your point across asap or the deal is over before it's even begun. she's a big fan of a shot of whiskey and a cigarette at the end of the day, and even though she's a pretty rough cook, her stew's are palatable with a healthy dose of beer on the side. she loves her horses, she avoids busy streets (she doesn't go to saint denis unless she absolutely must), and most of all she's one hell of a sniper.

anyway! that's all i really have on her! she's fluid in my mind so i'm always adding or detracting small things from her story to suit whatever mood i'm in, which is new for me and incredibly fun! hope you enjoyed and if you ever wanna hang out, message me! i play on pc and don't have many pals to play with so it'd be nice to just ride together with someone sometime <3

tagging @ripleyredemption as promised!

[bluejaysandblackbats]

You're Just Like Quicksand

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Batman Beyond

Summary: Jason Todd is ready to go into semi-retirement after fifteen years working with troubled youth, but one case in particular forces him to confront the sins of his youth and painful memories from his past.

Chapters: 9/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Terry McGinnis, Warren McGinnis, Mary McGinnis, Matt McGinnis, Bruce Wayne, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): TBA

Additional Tags: Protective Jason Todd, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Retired Jason Todd, Multiple POV, Hurt/Comfort, Parent-Child Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, Angst, Mourning Jason Todd

Chapter Nine: Memory Lane (Jason Todd's POV)

I sat with Avery-Marie at the piano, thinking about all the years of lessons Avery’s mother paid for. He used to sit there for hours, crying because he couldn’t get the notes right. It seemed like he got better overnight. That wasn’t the case, though. He worked hard for every note. Music filled the house, and everything else seemed silent. Nocturne No. 2 in E-Flat Major. It played in my head non-stop for months after the incident. My fingers found the keys, and soon enough, I was playing the tune that haunted me for my granddaughter. I shut my eyes, holding back tears as I listened to every key. I could almost feel him there, smiling beside me on the bench. “Ganma, this Daddy’s song,” Avery-Marie whispered. 

I was surprised she remembered. I sometimes felt like Avery had been gone forever, but it was only a year. To survive the horrible incident and years later—. It didn’t seem fair. It made me bitter. I didn’t want Avery-Marie to inherit my anger and weariness, so I stayed away. I wish I hadn’t because that anger and bitterness softened when I was with her. “It was… Um… Do you remember him well?” I asked. 

“Daddy not smile… He sad… All the time sad,” Avery-Marie replied. I nodded. 

“Yes… Your daddy was sad a lot, but he loved you so much. You were his everything. His special girl,” I whispered.  I stopped playing the piano and wrung my hands. 

“I have to work tomorrow, so you have to come with me to the office,” I explained before sputtering. She laughed and tried to copy the noise. “You gotta pout, take a deep breath, and blow.” She was a quick study. I let her down from the bench and she walked around the house sputtering like a horse. I didn’t mind the noise. 

I worked remotely for a few days while Terry healed, but he was up and about. So, I promised I’d pick him up from school and talk to him about his plans going forward. The only problem was Avery-Marie. I didn’t know how I’d keep her preoccupied. My secretary called, requesting a file I sent her two weeks prior. “Ganma, brrrr! Brrrr! Brrrr!” Avery-Marie sputtered. 

“That’s it, Avey. Good job, mamas,” I smiled while I searched through my notes for a summary of the file she needed. 

“Sorry, Lexi… I was speaking to my granddaughter. You said you were looking for a new proposal for the career partnership program, right?” I asked. 

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I deleted the message you sent—.”

“Hey, accidents happen. I sent it again, but you didn’t have to scramble for it. I already sent a copy to the mayor. I figured everyone would be backlogged with their monthly progress summaries, so I did it myself.” Avery-Marie took my hand, and I stood up and danced with her to no music. “Thanks, Jason… You’re a lifesaver. I’m so so—.” 

“Don’t say sorry. I’ve got you. Um… Anything else Lexi?” I questioned. 

“Your nephew called,” Lexi replied. 

“Hm… Mhm,” I mumbled. 

“Ganma, you choking?” Avery-Marie asked. 

“No, Sweetpea. Grandpa is thinking,” I answered, “Did he leave a message, Lexi?” 

“Yes, he said he’d bring you fried rice and asked me to tell you sorry in advance,” Lexi replied.

“Thanks, Lexi… I’ll call you if I need anything else,” I replied. She said goodbye, and I spent the next few seconds trying to figure out how to avoid answering the door. Kenny rang the doorbell. 

I picked Avery-Marie up and checked the cameras. “Ken!” Avery-Marie shouted.

“I’m answering, Avie,” I whispered as I opened the door. 

Ken smiled at me. “JT, I went by Abigail’s and she wasn’t there. So, I figured you went there. Hi, Little Miss Avie,” Ken smiled as he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. 

“Kenny, what are you doing? Does your Pop know you’re here?” I questioned. Ken practically grew up in my house. I blamed myself for the incident, so I decided to stay away from my nieces and nephews to protect them from the same fate. 

“I can’t visit my uncle and my baby cousin? I brought dinner, and I would like a hug,” Ken smiled. I let him in the house, and he set the bowl on the kitchen table. 

I hugged him, still frowning as I tried to quiet my thoughts. I catastrophized in my mind. I hated seeing the people I loved, because I always saw the worst things imaginable happening when I looked at them. “How’s work?” Ken asked as he rummaged through my kitchen for plates and silverware. 

“I’m semi-retired… But there’s a kid I’m working with. He’s smart, but I worry it’ll be harder to keep him safe from the gangs. He’s through with it for sure, but they all want a piece of him,” I answered. 

“Want some rice, Avie?” Ken asked. Avery-Marie nodded, and I set her down while Ken served us. “It sounds like you’re invested in this client.” 

“Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve been invested like this,” I replied. I swallowed hard. “He’s not—.” 

“You don’t have to explain… No one blames you for that,” Ken replied. I shut my eyes. 

“It was my fault… But let’s not get into that right now. Thanks for bringing dinner. I won’t send you home. How’s school?” I questioned. “Tim said you got home a little while ago.” 

“Yeah. It’s going good. I’m an assistant teacher for a cooking class at the high school I went to,” Ken answered. I smiled. Ken took after Bernie, despite looking like Tim’s mom. I saw a picture of her once, but I knew better than to mention it. We all had our burdens we hid from our families. 

**

After dinner, I got Avery-Marie ready for bed, and Ken stuck around. “It’s dark outside. Call Tim and tell him where you are,” I whispered, “I don’t want you driving across town this late at night.”

“Okay… But I—. Let me ask you something,” Ken replied. I nodded and watched as Ken turned to a picture I took when Maggie and Ken to Texas to visit my wife’s mom. They were still little. My heart dropped to my stomach. “Did you avoid me because you didn’t wanna talk about Maggie?” 

“No… I avoid you because I don’t want you to get hurt. You were like one of my kids. Doesn’t mean—.” 

“I know,” Ken smiled, “Still… Pop’s worried about you… And what’s going on with Abigail? Why do you have Avie? Is Ab—?”

“She’s in treatment,” I interrupted, “Please call Tim. Okay?” 

Ken nodded, pulling out his phone to call Tim. Tim answered after the second ring. “Hey, Goose. Where are you?” Tim questioned. 

“I’m at JT’s,” Ken answered. 

“He’s staying the night because I don’t want him driving across town,” I explained. Tim sighed, but he didn’t sound irritated. 

“Thanks for letting him in… I know he’s a handful, Jason. I would’ve called if I knew he was—.”

“It’s okay. It’s comforting… Seeing him,” I replied. Ken smiled at me. 

“Keep him, because he’s driving me nuts,” Tim joked, “Between him and his sister’s boyfriend—.” 

“Lena’s dating? Or is it Jane?” I questioned. 

“Jane. And it’s killing me. You might know him,” Tim replied. It felt good to talk to Tim. We were never close, but the kids brought us together. Hearing Tim complain about normal things made me forget. Ken fell asleep on the couch while we talked. It almost felt like no time had passed.

[darkskyemedia]

Breiterman 

Shattered Glass Shatters Truth about Rogue Journalist 

“There’s so many show-offs in journalism.” Well, yeah. But there’s also a lot of those in the film. And even though I don’t think Shattered Glass is a show-off of a movie, it does show off the skills of director (and writer) Billy Ray and many other people from both the cast and the production side. 

Shattered Glass tells the true (although somewhat dramatized) story of Stephen Glass, a Journalist from the 1990s who was well respected at The New Republic Magazine, which was known as the “in-flight magazine for Air Force One” until he was caught fabricating stories as well as source material for those stories. The story follows Glass (portrayed by none other than Hayden Christensen) as he shows off his writing and then is ascertained as a fraud and then begins a spiral downward filled with lies, whining, and a lot of the same questions that are repeated way too many times throughout the film “ARE YOU MAD AT ME?” 

The acting and casting of the film were surprisingly great. Christensen, who is widely known for portraying Anikin Skywalker in the Star Wars Franchise Prequels from 1999-2005, was the best candidate for this character. The high-pitched-ness of his voice, the weird thing where he breathes in between words and then almost lightly smacks his lips in between; agghhhh. Christensen is the best actor to play such an annoying and unlikable dude. The idea of Glass was that he was young, cute, and completely lovable. 

Christensen was as young as he was, with his curly hair and glasses, which were just a little too big for his face. mwaa Chef's kiss. He embodies innocentness. There's a more common saying in the U.K. than here in the U.S., but it's too sweet to be savory. This is about those people you know are entirely fake people who are just unnerving to be around because of how outwardly nice their demeanor is, like Delorous Umbridge from the Harry Potter book and movie series. In this case, she and Glass are so lovely and sweet that it's almost suspicious, and I think Christensen just nailed that because of his history playing in Star Wars. Other significant roles, such as Chuck Lane (played by Peter Sarsgaard), were tremendous and demanding but not evil, as a boss should be. The almost father figure-like editor Michael Kelly (portrayed by Hank Azaria) and all of the leading ladies, Catlin Avey (Played by Chloë Sevigny), Andy Fox (portrayed by Rosario Dawson), and Amy Brand (played by Melanie Lynskey), all fit their characters' roles, purposes, and characteristics perfectly. The incredible casting of casting director Cassandra Kulukundis made the feature what it was. The film wouldn't have hit the way it does without each person being appropriately portrayed. The emotions evoked by each are crucial for the plot and for the audience to get the most out of it. 

The physical production, design, art, set direction, and costuming were all on point. I think the most noticeable instance of this is in the 2 newsrooms that are shown; one from The New Republic and the other from Forbes. I have only ever been in two newsrooms at this point (primarily due to the amount of work and writing is online/electronic now), one for NJ.com and another for a media company I was interning at last year. After seeing those and then this in comparison, I have to say job well done to François Sénécal(Set Director), Pierre Perrault (Art Director), and François Séguin (Production Design). In addition to looking like a newsroom, the 90s setting was on point. There were landlines, pagers, and rolodexes. They had those giant PCs with square backs and were as heavy as hippos, even the phones. Hand-held landlines with antennas and the keyboards for the computers were those big old ones where the keys were so deep they made Marianna's Trench look like a pothole. Perfection. There were yellow pages, and the typing done on the computers had that ugly original font and that gross blue background. People were using YAHOO to search for things and AOL to email people. I cannot go on enough about it. Though I'm sure everyone working on the feature was around in the 90s, it may not be that big of a deal for them to remember. Still, for the audience, it really does transport you back to the 90s. 

The music department also did their job well. The music is driving, curious, and just the thing that the film needed, but what really is impressive are the moments without any music. To make tense lines even more potent, Supervising Sound Director David Bach ensured there was nothing but dead silence behind the yelling and crying. “I think I’ll have to kill myself,” ‘What the hell did you do to Steve?” and “Stop fucking apologizing” are lines that are just left to stew in the anger and awkwardness that brought them to where they are. This also applies to more lighthearted moments, though. The amount of narration done by Christensen and the seemingly wise journalist advice he provides, such as “I think it’s the people you find. Their quirks, their flaws. What makes them funny, what makes them human. Journalism is just the art of capturing behavior. You have to know who you’re writing for, and you have to know what you’re good at. I record what people do. I find out what moves them, what scares them. And I write that down. That way, they’re the ones telling the story,” with the uplifting and motivational music behind it, are sheer golden words that stick with you. 

Though biopics and other truer movies often don’t have themes like fictional ones, I think there are important lessons here. Lessons like doing the right thing are hard sometimes, or sometimes you need to look deeper, maybe not trusting everybody who has a smile on their face, are all valid points that are brought up in the film. And though the movie is way more dramatic than the actual life events that inspired it, those lessons that come through are ones that the audience and journalists should be aware of. 

There aren’t a lot of issues I take with the film other than the possible rating issue and the gratingness of the whole thing. There is a lot of cursing, and as the resident pottymouth of my class, home, and friend group, I should know. I do think PG-13 is appropriate overall, but if you’re a parent or an older sibling or just an adult in charge of a youngling, maybe don’t take them to this if you’re not okay with them repeating the F-word all the way home. It’s not a perfect piece, but I think that’s okay. I think it’s a biopic, so the truth of it is supposed to shine through more than the art aspect. The cinematography could have been better, and sometimes I didn’t care about certain things happening at a particular moment, and after a while, the constant whining and repetition of annoying toddler-like quotes from Glass, such as “I didn’t do anything wrong” gets old and a little headache-inducing. But as the movie is only 94 minutes long, it’s not that big of a deal. 

For those who like biopics, or journalistic stories such as Spotlight (2006), All the President’s Men (1975) and/or The Help (2015), this is definitely the movie for you. 

“There’s so many show-offs in journalism.” There are also a lot of show-off movies. Shattered Glass shows off plenty of great aspects that audiences, especially those who were around in the 90s and remember this historical event, should see. 

[foodreceipe]

Discover the History of Sushi

Tori Avey | September 5, 2012

On her website ToriAvey.com, Tori Avey explores the story behind the food – why we eat what we eat, how the recipes of different cultures have evolved, and how yesterday’s recipes can inspire us in the kitchen today. Learn more about Tori and The History Kitchen.

As with many ancient foods, the history of sushi is surrounded by legends and folklore. In an ancient Japanese wives’ tale, an elderly woman began hiding her pots of rice in osprey nests, fearing that thieves would steal them. Over time, she collected her pots and found the rice had begun to ferment. She also discovered that fish scraps from the osprey’s meal had mixed into the rice. Not only was the mixture tasty, the rice served as a way of preserving the fish, thus starting a new way of extending the shelf life of seafood.

While it’s a cute story, the true origins of sushi are somewhat more mysterious. A fourth century Chinese dictionary mentions salted fish being placed in cooked rice, causing it to undergo a fermentation process. This may be the first time the concept of sushi appeared in print. The process of using fermented rice as a fish preservative originated in Southeast Asia several centuries ago. When rice begins to ferment, lactic acid bacilli are produced. The acid, along with salt, causes a reaction that slows the bacterial growth in fish. This process is sometimes referred to as pickling, and is the reason why the sushi kitchen is called a tsuke-ba or “pickling place.”

The concept of sushi was likely introduced to Japan in the ninth century, and became popular there as Buddhism spread. The Buddhist dietary practice of abstaining from meat meant that many Japanese people turned to fish as a dietary staple. The Japanese are credited with first preparing sushi as a complete dish, eating the fermented rice together with the preserved fish. This combination of rice and fish is known as nare-zushi, or “aged sushi.”

Funa-zushi, the earliest known form of nare-zushi, originated more than 1,000 years ago near Lake Biwa, Japan’s largest freshwater lake. Golden carp known as funa was caught from the lake, packed in salted rice, and compacted under weights to speed up the fermentation. This process took at least half a year to complete, and was only available to the wealthy upper class in Japan from the ninth to 14th centuries.

At the turn of the 15th century, Japan found itself in the midst of a civil war. During this time, cooks found that adding more weight to the rice and fish reduced the fermentation time to about one month. They also discovered that the pickled fish didn’t need to reach full decomposition in order to taste great. This new sushi preparation was called mama-nare zushi, or raw nare-zushi.

In 1606, Tokugawa Ieyasu, a Japanese military dictator, moved the capital of Japan from Kyoto to Edo. Edo seemed to undergo an overnight transformation. With the help of the rising merchant class, the city quickly turned into a hub of Japanese nightlife. By the 19th century, Edo had become one of the world’s largest cities, both in terms of land size and population. In Edo, sushi makers used a fermentation process developed in the mid-1700s, placing a layer of cooked rice seasoned with rice vinegar alongside a layer of fish. The layers were compressed in a small wooden box for two hours, then sliced into serving pieces. This new method greatly reduced the preparation time for sushi… and thanks to a Japanese entrepreneur, the whole process was about to get even faster.

In the 1820s, a man named Hanaya Yohei found himself in Edo. Yohei is often considered the creator of modern nigiri sushi, or at the very least its first great marketer. In 1824, Yohei opened the first sushi stall in the Ryogoku district of Edo. Ryogoku translates to “the place between two countries” because of its location along the banks of the Sumida River. Yohei chose his location wisely, setting up his stall near one of the few bridges that crossed the Sumida. He took advantage of a more modern “speed fermentation” process, adding rice vinegar and salt to freshly cooked rice and letting it sit for a few minutes. He then served the sushi in a hand-pressed fashion, topping a small ball of rice with a thin slice of raw fish, fresh from the bay. Because the fish was so fresh, there was no need to ferment or preserve it. Sushi could be made in a matter of minutes, rather than in hours or days. Yohei’s “fast food” sushi proved quite popular; the constant crowd of people coming and going across the Sumida River offered him a steady stream of customers. Nigiri became the new standard in sushi preparation

https://www.pbs.org/food/the-history-kitchen/history-of-sushi/?utm_source=Facebook&utm_medium=fanpage&utm_campaign=pbs

[mi1kw33d-2]

"chase bodyshamed a patient" the show was filmed in 2004 ok house called a fifteen (15) year old hot and entertained a relationship with a seventeen (17) year old everyone sucks a little bit

[starsprlte]

everyone say hello to avey. the baseline furry

[toonytoodles]

You guys, you'll NEVER guess which OC I'm thinking about

[osteofy]

hi there! introducing a brand new roleplay blog for my jujutsu kaisen original character, minato! if you like cranky ladies and maybe political intrigue, she's right up your alley——drop a like, reply, or reblog if you're interested in interacting with her! this blog is managed by avey, or ave for even shorter!

[beginningspod]

It's time for Beginnings, the podcast where writer and performer Andy Beckerman talks to the comedians, writers, filmmakers and musicians he admires about their earliest creative experiences and the numerous ways in which a creative life can unfold.

On today's episode, I talk to musician Dave Portner AKA Avey Tare of Animal Collective. Originally from Baltimore County, Dave met his future bandmates Josh, Brian and Noah in high school where they played music together, but it wasn't until they all found themselves in New York in the early-aughts that they officially became Animal Collective. The first album as Avey Tare, Spirit They've Gone, Spirit They've Vanished, also doubles as the first Animal Collective album, and since its release on FatCat in 2000, they've written 10 more albums, the latest of which, Time Skiffs was released on Domino last year. On his own, Dave has written and collaborated on over half a dozen albums and EPs, and his latest, 7s, came out just last week, also on Domino!

I'm on Twitter here and you can get the show with:

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[whump-cravings]

TJP - Bread

Masterlist

1,379 words | Original Work: The Jokan Prince. Skipped a scene or two again. Uhh spoiler warning: don’t get attached to Maki

Content: slavery whump, noncon touch (non-sexual), misuse of authority, sexual slur, character not being believed when telling the truth

"Thief!" yelled someone down the way, drawing half the block's attention, including Eljonik's. A girl dressed in rags jumped in clear alarm, then darted through the crowd before people had a chance to react. A loaf of bread was tucked close to her body, apparently stolen from the vendor's stand. She looked worse off than Eljonik—with his coin gone and hunger setting in, he found he couldn't fault theft to fill an empty belly.

"Guards! Thief!" the vendor called again as a pair of women, carrying batons and dressed in clothes that might pass for uniforms, came walking onto the scene. Their heads whipped to the baker, then zeroed in on the fleeing urchin heading their direction. One of them raised fingers to her mouth, blowing a sharp whistle as they set in pursuit.

The girl paled and skid to a stop, but now the crowd had parted around her and the guards, bodies packed around her. As she attempted to duck off to the side, she was rebuffed by a passerby. She doubled back, but one of the guards, caught her by the arm.

"Lemme go!" the girl yelled, kicking at the woman, who raised a baton in response.

Before Eljonik knew it, his feet were moving. He refused to stand by when someone was being hurt ever again.

"Stop!" The prince threw himself in between the woman and child, smashing his forearm against the woman's. Someone yelled in outrage, but he hardly heard it as pain erupted in his shoulder. His legs gave out beneath him, knees hitting the ground as he, gasping, clutched at his newest injury.

For a prince, Eljonik thought, he ended up on his knees far too often.

"She's gone," someone growled breathlessly.

A hand closed around his wrist and yanked him upright. "What do you think you're doing?"

Through gritted teeth, he demanded, "What business have you, beating a hungry child?"

"You just helped a criminal escape," she said. "You struck a city guard. I'll have you in irons for that."

Eljonik pulled against her, trying to wrest his arm free. "You speak as if she were a murderer. She took bread!"

A heavy hand fell on his injured shoulder, fingers digging in and prompting a gasp from the prince as he fell pliant. "Wait, Avei. Look." She tugged at the collar of his stolen tunic, revealing the debt-slave markings.

Avei's lip curled further. "I should have known. Who do you belong to, boy?"

"Slaves are not owned," Eljonik managed through pain. "Contracts are a humane and rehabilitative alternative to—"

Though he saw it coming this time, he had no leeway to dodge the hand that entrenched in his hair to bend him forward. Why did everyone have to touch his hair? "Check his back."

"Let go of me!" Eljonik struggled, pushing at the woman with his free hand, despite the pain that shot through his neck with the movement. Her partner caught his hand in a vice-like grip from behind while shoving his tunic up.

"Uppity whore," the baton-woman said, giving his head a rattle. He gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. 'A whore can't be surprised...'

Air cooled his back, and a low whistle followed. "Over ten thousand parts! Can you imagine even seeing that much money?"

"And this motherfucker managed to blow it all," said Avei.

"Rau Sinaido," read the woman behind him. "Owned by Duchess Dalei."

"Doesn't she live in Sektura?" Avei craned Eljonik's head back to look him in the face. His tunic fell back into place as she did. "A runaway bitch."

"No!" Eljnik said through clenched teeth. "The contract is fake; I was kidnapped."

Avei barked a laugh. "Like we haven't heard that one before! Right Nim?"

"You—" He stared, aghast, as he tried to comprehend her words. How many times had these two spurned others in his situation? People in need, who had nowhere to turn except the law, which ought to protect them?

"Let's take him back to the guardhouse," the partner said, twisting his arm up his back. He gasped in pain, shoulder smarting.

"Pretty braids," Avei said as she turned her hand to tug Eljonik's hair free of its weave.

The intimate touch sent heat flushing through his face and tears springing to his eyes. People shouldn't touch him like this, people shouldn't touch any stranger like this.

"Quit teasing him and grab some manacles already."

Sighing, Avei took her hand from his hair. "Fine, fine—"

"I wonder whose these are!" said a loud, ponderous voice from just a few feet away. Off to the side was the thief, holding two small purses aloft. What? Why was she back here? What had Eljonik done this for if she was only going to get caught again?

The guards started simultaneously.

"You!" said Avei, hand going to her waist. "Our pouches!"

"Grab her!" Nim hissed.

Avei darted towards the girl, only for her leg to pull up behind her, sending her sprawling. Nim's leg went out at the same time, jerking her in the direction of her partner. Her hands left Eljonik as she tried to catch herself.

He stared at the mess for a beat as the girl jumped over the women and grabbed his wrist.

"Come on!" she said, yanking him after her.

Both his mind and feet struggled to catch up as he was forced to duck through various openings in the crowd, the thief's little body fitting with much more ease than his adult form. Already having walked through the night, his legs and lungs protested, but all the excitement kept him going—for now. He could tell that once he stopped moving, his body was going to exact revenge.

After some twisting paths in back alleys and multiple crowds, the girl finally let his arm go. Eljonik doubled over, hands on his knees, coughing and wheezing for all he was worth. Each breath he sucked in burned and he couldn't get air in fast enough. His head spun and his stomach felt fit to stab him. Had he ever run so hard in his life?

"You're a fucking idiot," the girl declared, rounding on him. "What d'you think you were doing?"

"I," he puffed. "I just. I wanted to—help you."

"First of all, I ain't such a loser to need help from a debtie." She set her hands on her hips. "And they woulda let me go after a few whacks! They just gotta like, get their kicks out."

Eljonik stared at her, mouth opened wordlessly.

"But stealing a whole-ass slave is a completely different story," she said. "That'd add tons to your debt, probably!"

"I..." hadn't even thought about that. Not that it would have mattered since he wasn't actually a slave, but he certainly wouldn't have gotten away without her assistance. What's Duchess Dalei's connection?

"And then I had to get you out of that and now I have to pick up and go to the other side of the city or something, so thanks for that." Scowling, she kicked a rock across the cobblestone.

"Well..." He turned his gaze to the ground. "You have my gratitude. It seems I gravely miscalculated the situation."

She groaned, scratching at her head with both hands. "Debties never talk like normal folk."

Endeared, he laughed. "Thank you. You didn't have to return for me."

"I'd feel bad leaving your pathetic ass behind," she said, nose up. "But don't expect that kinda niceness outta me again, got it?"

"I understand," he said, unable to keep a small smile from his face. He paused, then said, "I'm Eljonik. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss...?"

Scowling again, she answered, "Maki." She shoved something into his hands. "Here."

The prince fumbled with the bag of coins. "This is—my purse? You—?" To think I thought she was starving.

"Yeah, keep it somewhere safer, dummy, like inside your pants," she said. "It'd be harder to rob a baby. Didn't think things through before you ran off, huh?"

"I—"

"I actually don't care," she groaned. "Anyways, gotta run."

"Thank you again, Miss Maki," he said earnestly as the urchin turned to go. "May grace be upon you."

"Yeah, yeah," she said, waving. "Eljonik, was it? Try not to get killed."

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