#based on stuff I had in my closet + some modifications

[mustiels-art]

Sometimes reading jojo does things to your brain. like makes you design possible jojo ocs

[md3artjournal]

version 009

DMCL FIC

DIMITRI MEETS CLAUDE-MANDRAKE

5:15 PM 9/24/2021

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3:05 PM 9/24/2021

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1:45 PM 9/24/2021

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1:34 PM 9/24/2021

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11:08 AM 9/24/2021

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11:02 AM 9/24/2021

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6:33 PM 9/22/2021

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1:28 PM 9/21/2021 & 1:25 PM 9/21/2021

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Dimitri craddled the yellow flowers between his fingertips. "Is this it?" He checked the carefully folded paper of Dedue's notes. "'Three leaves, two flowers...Also an aphrodesiac---'" He squinted at the latter's change in handwriting. "Sylvain...!" Dimitri shoved the paper back into his pocket.

He got started pulling the plant up by the roots. Then he paused. Maybe the legends were true, some childish voice warned him. Maybe pulling up a mandrake would kill him. He shook his blond head. No. He was an adult now. He knew that was just a myth. The reality was that mandrake were good for curing maladies and brewing sleep tonics, and he desperately needed sleep, away from his haunting ghosts. He set to pulling the plant at its base. With more fervor this time.

"OW!"

Dimitri let the plant go and looked around him. Nothing but rolling foothills, covered in grasses, shrubs, and flowers. "H-hello?" He called out nonetheless. "Is anyone there?" He stood up, scanning across the landscape. "If you're hurt, I'll help you!"

"That's something, coming from the guy who hurt me." Someone muttered.

"Where---?" Dimitri almost jumped back.

The plant was moving by itself. Stems and leaves shaking from its base, the plant gradually rose up, with something like a human head beneath it, emerging from the soil. An arm sprung up from beside the plant and immediately began rubbing its stem base. "That really hurt, y'know?" The young man lifting himself halfway out of the ground, rubbed at the plant on his head.

"Y-y-you...?!?"

"Yes, yes. I'm a mandrake." the green eyed man with tan skin rested his elbows on the ground. "So? Are you planning to cut me up and grate me? Or drown me in vinegar?"

"You seem exceedingly calm for such prospects." Dimitri was still frozen in place.

"Yeah, well," the mandrake rubbed his head again, "There's not much I can do if a human decides to kill me. Except talk my way out of it or get them to lower their guard."

"Lower their---?"

A sudden yank immediately pulled Dimitri's legs out from under him. He fell backards into the ground, almost slamming his head on a large rock.

The mandrake released his ankles, quickly struggled out of the soil, and began running.

Or rather, he tried to run. As it turned out, mandrakes do not have too much experience in running. Especially on steep, sloped hills and bumpy terrain. He immediately lost his footing and began barreling into a fatal tumble down the elevated hillside.

Until Dimitri caught him.

The mandrake's green eyes, that had been winced closed, slowly opened, realizing he didn't have to brace for a painful fall. "Oh." He looked up into the blond's blue eye.

"Are you all right?" Dimitri asked. The concern was almost frantic on his face.

"Yes, I'm alight," he answered from the cradle of Dimitri's arms. "Um, thanks."

"I'm sorry." Dimitri balanced them on a flatter patch of the hillside. "I had no notion of mandrakes being sentient beings."

They sat down across from each other.

"We're just plants?"

"That is what I had heard. But now that I know you are a conscious being, I would not dare hurt you." Dimitri suddenly realized the man sitting before him was compeltely naked. His face burned red and he quickly turned away.

The mandrake could not stifle a laugh. "I forgot! You humans are so weird about nakedness, huh?"

"Please," Dimitri undid his cloak's clasp. "Take this." He held out the weighty blue fabric towads the vague direction of the mandrake. He could hear the mandrake covering another fit of laughter behind his hand.

"No, you know what? You owe me a lot more than a cloak."

Dimitri couldn't make sense of his playful tone. "I'm sorry?" He didn't look back until he felt the cloak snatched from his hand.

"You owe me a tour!" The mandrake stood up in Dimitri's billowing blue.

Dimitri, still on the ground, could only once again watch with bewilderment on his face. "You want a tour? Of what?"

"Where you come from!" The mandrake turned towards the town at the base of the foothills and spread both arms wide. "The human town! I haven't been in so long! And I could never get close enough to really see anything before! But now I have a guide for cover." He leaned down to Dimitri, with a finger waggle. "And you owe me retribution for scaring me half to death."

Dimitri blinked, nodded his head, and slowly stood up. "Very well."

The mandrake almost spun with glee.

Dimitri extended a hand. "But I'm afraid I didn't necessarily come from the town."

~ ~ ~

"Welcome home, Your Highness." Dedue met Dimitri's horse, at the castle gates. He paused to eye the person who rode in tandem on Dimitri's mare. An unknown man wearing Dimitri's cloak, his hood pulled over his head. "And you are?"

"He is a guest." Dimitri dismounted his horse, handing the reigns to Dedue.

"Very pleased to meet you." The man smiled, slipping off the horse.

Dedue took the reigns and nodded to their guest. He turned to Dimitri. "Your Highness, were you able to find the plant this time?"

He jolted strangely, but hid it. "Yes, Dedue. Your notes were very helpful. Thank you."

"I do wish you would allow me to accompany you."

"That is not necessary." Dimitri paused, and the mandrake glanced back and forth between them. "I'm sorry, I mean that I don't wish to put you out, and I do sometimes...need the time alone."

The larger man was silent a moment. "Very well, Your Highness."

Dedue walked the horse back to the stables.

"What was that?" the mandrake asked Dimitri as they walked the gardens towards the palace proper.

"That was my retainer, Dedue. We've known each other since I was young."

"No, I mean, why is he worried about you being alone?" He glanced at Dimitri from the side. Dimitri was clearly built for battle and his musculature felt strong against his back during their ride to the castle. The horse's saddle and his belt were both equally equipped with tools for self-defense. "And why are you reluctant to tell him?"

Dimitri looked away as they walked. "I'm sorry. I...I was in exile for several years, until recently, when my father was able to re-take the throne. It's still a little," he clenched, unclenched, and fidgeted with his hands, "still a little odd to have returned."

"Hmmm." The mandrake gave Dimitri a thoughtful look. When it wasn't returned, he pretended to be more interested in the sky. "Sounds familiar."

"Oh?"

"Oh, hey! What's that scent?" The mandrake ran in the direction of the kitchens.

"I'm sure the kitchens are preparing the evening meals. Do mandrakes...eat human food?"

"When we're not in the ground." He grabbed Dimitri's arm. "C'mon, let's get a snack. You're hungry too, right?"

"I really shouldn't bother them between meals."

"Oh, they won't notice! We'll be in and out!" The mandrake began dashing against the winds.

When his cloak began flapping upward, reminding him of the mandrake's nudity underneath, Dimitri blushed and turned away. He pulled them to a stop, with the mandrake's hand still hooked around his arm. "I'll ask the servants to bring something to my room. For now, I think I should lend you some clothes."

"Oh? You're still worried about this?" The mandrake picked up the sides of his cloak and began waving the fabric up and down.

"P-Please stop that!"

The mandraked laughed for a bit, but obliged. "Ok. But make sure to ask them to bring us a little bit of everything."

~ ~ ~

"Are you decent?" Dimitri wheeled a cart of food towards his inner chamber, after thanking the servant that had brought it to his door.

"Never!" The mandrake laughed again from behind the door to the inner chamber.

Dimitri began lifting the dome covers on the plates. "What should I call you?" He called out. "I feel terribly rude not referring to you by name."

"What? Oh. Uh, Claude!" The muffled voice responded. Then the inner chamber door burst open. "How do I look?" Claude splayed out both arms and spun a little turn in Dimitri's spare white tunic and tan pants, the flowers and leaves on his head, bobbing up and down.

"Quite nice." Dimitri nodded.

"Ooh! Is that the food?" Claude went directly for the cart. He found a small plate on the side and began piling it up with a bit of everything, just as he had said. "There were a lot of these white and gold embroidered clothes in your closet. So why aren't you wearing any of them? Ooh! Strawberry!"

Dimitri glanced down at his dark and minimally embellished tunic. "Our advisors chose most of my wardrobe. They are prescribing a certain image for our family."

"Sounds stifling."

"Oh, no! It will reassure the people to see their prince fit an idealized role!"

Claude put down the dome lid he held and just stared at Dimitri.

"What's the matter?"

Claude shrugged and returned to exploring the plates under each lid. "If you really didn't see any problems with that, you'd be wearing these clothes already. Just a thought."

Dimitri looked away.

"Hey, here." Claude brought him a plate. "Try this."

Against his better judgement, Dimitri took a bite of the strawberry Claude held between his fingers.

"It's really sweet, right?" An expectant smile danced across Claude's face.

Dimitri couldn't disagree. "Yes. Yes, it is."

"Here. I picked out some other stuff you should try."

"Claude, I have tried all of these foods before."

"Well, not with me. Now eat!" Claude took another morsel from the plate for himself, before gesturing the platter towards Dimitri.

The prince found himself sharing a meal with a mandrake.

~ ~ ~

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

4:08 PM 9/24/2021

https://medium.com/@trashcansunlimitedoutreach/the-history-of-the-trash-can-and-all-its-dirty-secrets-b12c6853e81b

"

The garbage of the ancients was very different from today’s trash. In early human history, waste was mostly ash from fires, wood, bones, and vegetable waste. The edible portions of it were used to feed animals, and what remained was put in the ground to decompose. The excavation of ancient rubbish dumps by archeologists reveals miniscule amounts of ash, broken tools, and pottery, meaning early civilizations reused and repaired what they could, rather than dumping it.

Other strategies were employed to dispose of waste. Large dump sites were used to deal with excessive garbage that couldn’t be reused or given to animals. On the Mediterranean island of Crete, citizens dug large pits and threw waste in them. Such dump sites were the norm for a long time, and burning trash was an equally popular solution. Sometimes, people opted for the most convenient, though most unsanitary, idea to rid themselves of garbage: throwing it out of their doors and windows, where it piled on the street.

200 AD. To cope with a growing population’s garbage, the Romans devised the first sanitation force. This consisted of teams of two men walking along streets to pick up and toss garbage into a wagon that transported it to a remote site.

Middle Ages

A common practice during the Middle Ages in Europe was throwing trash into the streets. When it piled up, this garbage caused a terrible stench, harbored rats and other pests, contaminated water supplies, and facilitated the spread of diseases like the infamous black plague.

Circa 1350. Recognizing the dire need to prevent such unsanitary conditions, Britain passed a law that mandated clean front yards. Unfortunately, this law was not upheld with any real effort and most garbage continued to be either burned outside in fires or left near houses and in streets.

1354. King Edward III ordered English rakers to rake all refuse from streets and alleys and remove it once a week. These men were early versions of today’s garbagemen. With the waste they collected, the rakers often drove their cartloads to the Thames or Fleet Rivers to dump them.

Wagons and carts like those of the rakers soon became common for carrying trash out to bury in large holes and unload into rivers and oceans.

1388. The English Parliament banned dumping waste in public waterways and ditches.

Circa 1407. Britain passed a law declaring that waste must be stored inside until rakers remove it.

Early America and the Industrial Revolution

"

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

4:10 PM 9/24/2021

Well, I guess I can't use this in my fic:

Dimitri offered his hankerchief, after he had finished, tossing the empty skewer into the vendor's rubbish barrel.

I mean, it's my fantasy so if I want Dimitri's royal family decree that waste/trash be disposed of in barrels to be carted away once a week, like this article describes, then why not?

But also, it doesn't make sense, if Dimitri is supposed to be worried enough for Claude's feel to go buy him some shoes.

I know this scene is supposed to be some amusing fluffy interactions and showcase Claude's excitment at experiencing the town. But is it necessary? Maybe I should skip to going to the castle? Dimitri could give Claude a full set of clothes and shoes more easily there.

And why did I suddenly write that Claude's mother was human? I know it wasn't just to upkeep Claude's cannonical FE3H biracial background. Because I didnt' think of integrating that into this story. I just wanted an excuse for Claude to have had meat skewers before becasue his mom was able to sneak them to him, since she could easily go to the town, by being human. Is that a good enough reason for this plot background? Sure, it foreshadows that humans can have relations with mandrakes, but do I need to do that?

What even is this story about? Maybe I should figure that out and focus on that. Or at least, focus on the scenes that I originally wanted to write. I wanted to play on the idea of difficulty in caring for delicate plants. But this story is also implying I should tackle how mandrakes are covetted and maybe Claude will later be in danger when people discover what he is. But I want to get to those scnees I didn't even write notes for yet: tragic separation, but I should find a solution to solve that problem. Maybe I should concentrate more on making this a bunch of disjointed vignettes and a SHORT story.

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

5:58 PM 9/24/2021

And now suddenly this DMCL mandrake story has turned into an indirect way to talk about my isolation for the past 10 years and how hard it is for me to return to connecting/interacting with people, even the ones that truly care about me. ...Because I know I'll say or do something horrible, or I faulter to open up fast enough or eloquently enough, to be understood. How everything is a memory that haunts me...Everything is a risk to repeat another similar mistake that will haunt me forever...How I'm so afraid to do anything.

Maybe that's why i love Claude's Strength. His fearlessness to move forward. Or at least, his abilty to get past those fears. I know he understand similar struggles, but he got past them. And by himself. Because no one else would stand by him. Maybe Dimitri could stand by him.

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

7:20 PM 9/24/2021

Is this really going to be a story of Dimitri afraid to open up/connect with people, while Claude is desperate to make connections with anyone? That sounds kind of empty and simplistic. But hey, it's a short story; simple is okay.

But the thing I like about DMCL is that Claude has had to hold onto faith in humanity and the capacity for the world to get better...He's had to hold onto that belief in the best in people/world, all by himself, all while the world was showing him its worst: Everyone who should have been his family, betraying him and shunning him. But Claude had to believe he could make things, the world, and relationships between people, all better than they currently were. He had to hold onto tenous Hope. Constantly clawing for it. Or else his whole world would crumble under Hopelessness. Then suddenly comes Dimitri who proves that Claude's belief in the best in people can all be true. Dimtiri is a genuinely good, selfless, compassionate person. Even when he was at his worst, his feral state, it was not only still rooted in selflessness for others' sakes (even if those others were the dead), but Dimitri was able to come out of his worst state. That alone proves Claude's belief that people can become better, they can return to being as good as you believed in them to be. They just need time and understanding between peoples. Dimitri justifies Claude's Hope in the world.

It's pretty similar to some aspects of the AkiRyu dynamic: Akira was about ready to give up all his hope---Actually, Hope is my ideal theme. Akira was going to give up on his ideals about feeling justified to get invovled in matters to help people in trouble. He was going to resign himself to being beaten down and not invovle himself in helping anyone anymore. But then Akira met Ryuji who continually put hiself on the line to help others and stand against injustice. And even after it cost Ryuji so much, he still kept at it. Ryuji being Ryuji proved that Akira wasn't wrong and that he shouldn't give up on ideals/values at the core of his being. He shouldn't kill his core self.

8:07 PM 9/24/2021

Plus also, Dimitri is super sincere. He's a resting place for someone like Claude who has previously had to constantly guard against other's schemes. But Dimitri is truthful, loyal, benign, and even at his worst/feral, he's still reliably sincere about it.

Maybe it's time I wrote this fic from Claude's perspective.

[possiblyjad]

So I noticed that I have had a bunch of new followers over the last month or so and I haven't taken the time to send you guys love and a proper intro! So here we go:

Hi! My name is Jade, but you can also call me Jad. I'm 27, Canadian (I live in Niagara Falls), and super queer. I use both she and they pronouns. I have two conflicting aesthetics of super cutesy pastel stuff and emo renaissance. I love fashion, makeup, and body modification as outlets of expression. I go to school VERY soon to be an esthetician, and I'm currently looking into the possibilities of getting a piercing apprenticeship.

Under the cut will be 25 random facts about me. Click to see them:

1. I grew up in a smallish town called Bowmanville, which is about an hour east of Toronto. It's rapidly expanding but in the heart of it is a bevy of picture esque historic neighborhoods lined with centuries old mansions. If you ever go, the one place I highly recommend food wise is Norm’s Deli downtown. The handmade pierogis and cabbage rolls are unmatched. Also, if you’re a tattoo fiend like me, some of my all time favourite artists are in Bowmanville/Oshawa.

2. I currently have 4 tattoos and 12 piercings, with the strong desire to get more.

3. My favourite colours are pastels mainly, baby blue, mint, lavender, and millennial pink.

4. I have a caffeine addiction which is usually fueled by coffee (mainly iced) and sugar free energy drinks.

5. I don't really care for alcohol too much, I like the occasional beer at Taps or a cocktail on a hot day, but I hate getting drunk and I'm also not fairly comfortable around drunk people unless I'm also drunk. (I don't really do parties anymore for that very reason)

6. I've been pescatarian since Feb 2020 and I've been trying my hardest to use cruelty free personal care products since the beginning of 2020.

7. My favourite CF makeup brands are Colourpop, Milk Makeup, Sugarpill, and Anastasia Beverly Hills.

8. Even though I'm trying really hard right now, I am USELESS when it comes to hair. I don't really know how to curl hair, I don't know how to braid, and I cannot be trusted with bleach (I won't fry your hair, it'll just be very uneven). I'm trying to learn hair curling now, though!

9. I smoke weed almost everyday. Depending on what I smoke with, it actually levels me out anxiety wise and allows me to focus and think like a normal person. I also smoke before bed to help treat my insomnia. On occasion though, I DO like to get mind numbingly stoned.

10. I actually have a hard time getting close to people, predominantly because of my past relationships with toxic people. My broken brain automatically considers most relationships temporary until proven otherwise, in an attempt to protect myself from further heartache. I always want to make new friends, I swear! Just keep interacting with me and I'll open up at some point.

11. I don't shut the fuck up. Ever. I'm either talking my friends' ears off or I'm complimenting a stranger because I can. Let’s just say that I’m a hit with my friends’ parents or family.

12. I LOVE TTRPG, it’s likely my biggest creative outlet right now. I play both DnD 5E and Pathfinder 1E. I partake in 5 games right now.

13. I’m a first time DM! I started a campaign for a bunch of people who are relatively new to DnD a few months ago and it’s been a hit so far! I absolutely love flexing my creative muscles and writing for my friends!

14. I also write as a hobby as well. Mainly fantasy drabble based on my TTRPG characters, but it’s still something.

15. I’m almost always either listening to music or finding new musicians to listen to. I curate playlists all the time and daydream to songs constantly.

16. My favourite artists/bands right now are: Lights, Marianas Trench, Mothica, BMTH, Halsey, Ashnikko, Billy Talent, Stand Atlantic, and a plethora more.

17. I’m technically the oldest in my family. I have a younger brother (also queer and trans, he recently started HRT!!), and a little half sister who is the literal light of my life.

18. I LOVE animals! I have a senior cat, Willow, who does not look or behave like a senior cat. I also have a lionhead/dwarf rabbit named Theodore, or Theo. I’d get more pets if it weren’t for the fact, we don’t really have the room for other animals in our apartment, and also the fact that Willow hates other cats.

19. I’m TERRFIED of bees/wasps. I understand their importance to the world and they can vibe and save the planet as far away from me as possible.

20. My favourite food is sushi. I’m also a massive sushi snob and I have strong opinions on many of the places I’ve been to in my lifetime. The best I’ve had is still this place in Freehold, NJ that I don’t remember the name of. In Ontario, thus far, is tied between Oishi Maki in Whitby, ON, and the St Catharines location for Wind.

21. I’m also a sucker for good bubble tea. It’s one of the easiest ways to win me over.

22. I just love tea in general. Hot or iced. You should see my tea/coffee cupboard, it is PACKED. I’m a huge David’s tea fan but I also like trying other loose-leaf teas as well, and I prefer herbal/fruit infusions over most other teas. Except for chai, you can win me over with a good chai.

23. I marched in a pride parade once! It was the Durham Pride Parade in Oshawa in 2014! I was still very much in the closet at the time, but I did get photographed by the news and everything! I would LOVE to go to Toronto Pride once in my life with a bunch of my other Alphabet Mafia fiends when things die down.

24. I am a shameless collector of Pokemon and Alpacasso plush.

25. Back when we could, I used to go to conventions a lot! I’ve been to Anime North, Fan Expo, and Con Bravo thus far. My favourite out of all of them is easily Con Bravo, but I would LOVE to check out other Ontario conventions when things open up!

[khaosgaming22]

Catching Up Part 1 (fluff warning :3)

Ken woke up and looked at the alarm clock, it read 6:00, still pretty early. He turned over to go back to sleep and saw someone else laying next to him. Tears of joy rained from his face, it wasn’t a dream, what happened yesterday happened. Aleina was back. He knew that he probably shouldn’t wake her but he couldn’t help himself, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck lightly. To his surprise she kept sleeping for a bit, then he glanced over and saw her ivy green eyes. She looked down at his arm across her and rolled over.

“Hi there cutie...” She mumbled to him rubbing her eyes. He smiled and pressed his lips to hers.

“Thought you’d be all out of energy after yesterday.” She said smirking. He blushed a bit at that but the shade faded soon after.

“So... you’re back.” He said and she looked at him confused.

“Course I am silly! I’m right here aren’t I?” He nodded.

“It’s just... a part of me thought it was a dream... you’ve been gone for so long...” It was hard for her to understand, she layed in silence for a while trying to comprehend the amount of time that had passed.

“Well... if it was a dream would you feel this?” She wrapped her legs around his and kissed his neck moving upward to his mouth.

“Guess not.” He said smiling awkwardly.

“You haven’t had a girlfriend since I died have you?” She said giggling and Ken shook his head.

“I can tell. Well I’m here now so I can teach you everything again.” She kissed his cheek.

“I’ve got a lot to show you too, music, shows, new locations oh, and new paths guardians have found.” She arched an eyebrow.

“Like what? Let me rephrase, what for Hunters?” Ken moved her hair out of her face.

“Let’s get some clothes on and I’ll show you.”

~

The two of them sat together watching the sunrise on Ken’s porch; Aleina laid her head on his shoulder and he remembered back to the last time they were together like this. The day everything changed between them, the day Ken was chosen to fight for the Last City, the day he became a guardian. But now none of that mattered, Aleina was back and she was the same as him.

“So what do you wanna show me first?” She asked looking up at him.

“Well... you like music right?” He said turning his head to meet her eyes. She nodded.

“Who do ya think you got it from?” She said laughing. He laughed with her for a minute and got up, she looked at him a little sad.

“I’ll be right back hang on.” She pouted and gave him puppy eyes.

“Hurry back... you’re not the only one who missed us...” He kissed her forehead and smiled before racing off inside. He came back after a bit with his phone and an old guitar, the base was a tan wood with an almost golden intricate design where the strings went over the hole. She looked at it and almost started crying.

“Oh my god.... you still have it?” He gave it to her and sat back down on the swing.

“I kept everything you had.” She looked at him arching an eyebrow.

“I find that adorable but at the same time a little creepy...” She said tuning the guitar.

“Not anything weird! Just y’know, the important stuff like this.” She stopped tuning for a second.

“Do you have my paintings?” He nodded and she leaned on him again. “I love you so much.”

“Some of them are hanging up in my hideouts, some are here some are in my closet where I kept a few other things.” She went back to tuning the guitar and he flipped through his playlist to find Imagine Dragons’ Night Visions album.

“What in the world? Where’d you find that?” He laughed a bit.

“I dug it up ages ago, along with a ton of other Golden Age stuff. Malcom left behind lots of old notes about where he thought old cities and towns were and most of the time he was dead on.” She looked impressed and tapped one song that she found interesting.

“Cha Ching (Till We Grow Older) huh, alright then.” The song began to play and she tried to sing along with the chorus. The song ended and she tapped it again to try again. She tried a few more times and eventually got it.

“God I missed your voice...” He said after she got it right.

“What about you? You used to play those drums of yours along with me.” She looked at a few other songs on his playlist.

“Still have those too, just haven’t played in a while since Booms and Blooms broke up.” She looked at him confused.

“Booms and Blooms was a band I started with some friends. I’ll show you them later, but they’re ancestors of Malcoms old fireteam.” He looked at the sunrise.

“So he’s gone... isn’t he...” He nodded slowly and she wiped a tear away.

“He died probably a few decades after you did. I’ll show you his grave when festival comes around.” She held back more tears and moved closer to him. He put his arms around her and waited until she stopped crying.

“He gave his weapon to me... when I eventually found his will.” She rubbed her last tears away in his shoulder.

“Along with some modification suggestions, lemme tell you, it packs a punch.” She looked up at him and smiled a bit.

“Think I can try shooting it?” He laughed and nodded.

“Sure thing. But first we gotta do the boring stuff, y’know Tower, Vanguard lecture, Big Blue...” She giggled at that.

“Well at least we get to see Caydey.” He looked off at the sun and his smile faded away. She could tell something was wrong.

“Cayde... he’s gone too baby....” She looked at him half sad half surprised. Malcom was one thing but Cayde? He was Hunter Vanguard and had been for a long time, how could he have died she wondered. As if he read her mind he answered.

“Cayde was out on a patrol with a guardian in the Prison of Elders in the Tangled Shore and... Uldren Sov shot him after his Scorned Barons took out Sundance...” This time she was the one that brought him closer to her to hug.

“Sundance was my best friend...” A voice said behind them. Aleina and Ken turned to see Citra looking as sad as them, Ghosts couldn’t cry but if they could she probably would’ve been covered in water from tears. Aleina pulled her closer to them and gave her a hug.

“Heh, you always did like Ghosts didn’t you?” She nodded and gave Citra a kiss on her shell.

“Chase and I have a.... complex relationship...” Chase transmatted behind him right on cue.

“You can say that again... and would you PLEASE get me out of this inane makeshift shell of yours.” Chase was almost naked save for a small life preserver around him.

“Yeah yeah... actually festival is coming up soon and if I’m lucky Tess will have the perfect one.” Ken said smirking which didn’t make Chase feel any better.

“Why must you torture the poor babies?” Aleina asked still hugging Citra. Ken rolled his eyes and motioned for Chase to come over.

“I do have to admit it’s kinda cute.” Citra said giggling.

“I will GLADLY trade it for yours.” Chase shot back still peeved.

“Nu uh. No Ghost of mine is wearing a shell they got from Zavala.” Ken said crossing his arms. “I’ll get you your new one soon just be patient.”

“Speaking of Zavala... class selection time!” Citra singsonged cheerfully.

Lore Books are coming don’t worry! Just waiting for a certain tentacle faced Agent of the Nine to give me a certain exotic....

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.98

“A Fate Worse Than Death”

A/N: Should... should I have titled the previous chapter "Defacing the Music" or would that have been too much? Ahaha... ha...

Three chapters left after this one.

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << 97 - Facing the Music 99 - Sigh No More >>

They could not put Lorca in the brig for obvious reasons. They could not, for even more obvious reasons, put Groves there, either. "If we disabled all computer access in the lab, we can keep them there," concluded Saru.

Kumar took one look at the things Mischkelovitz had done in the walls and vetoed this idea. "I don't even know what half these mods are, but that's clearly mushroom stuff," he said when he pulled open the access panel nearest the door and saw the mess of mycelial tubing. "We need a full engineering team of experts, ideally the people who built this ship."

"Can you disable access in crew quarters?" asked Cornwell, remembering a complaint from Dr. Samaritan Li that had come across her desk many years back.

"Sure," said Kumar.

"Completely disabled. Not even emergency safeties."

"You got it, admiral."

The suggestion gave Saru pause. It seemed unethical. "Lorca has been recently injured," Saru said after Kumar was gone. "If there are complications..."

Lorca was not the only one who could communicate an entire symphony of disdain with a single glance. The look Cornwell gave Saru said in no uncertain terms that Lorca's survival was not only so far down the list of priorities it came somewhere after organizing a crew movie night, it was also just as optional.

Twenty minutes later, Kumar was done. "I even disconnected the toilet and shower controls just in case. They can only be triggered from the outside now." So far as he knew, these modifications were being made purely for the benefit of Groves and this was his little way of getting back at Groves for everything in null time. Had he known the same fate awaited Lorca, he would have been even more pleased.

"Perfect," said Cornwell. "Bring them out."

Lorca and Groves both objected to the move. "I'd rather be in the brig," said Lorca.

"Good for you," said Cornwell blandly.

"I'd rather he was in the brig, too," said Groves.

Cornwell did not dignify that with a response. "Transporter room—"

"Wait!" Groves shouted, throwing up his hands in desperation. "What are we supposed to do in there with no computer? Can I—can I at least get a violin? Saru!"

Saru looked at Groves with pity. "I will arrange one for you."

"Fan—"

"Energize," said Cornwell. Groves and Lorca vanished in a shimmer of light. Their disappearance did nothing to lighten her mood. "See to it that this place is taken care of and let me know the minute Lalana is awake."

"Yes, admiral."

Cadet Tilly was more than happy to make her own assessment of Mischkelovitz's modifications; she understood what they were better than anyone else. She also remembered how stridently Mischkelovitz had cautioned against anyone finding out the true nature of the system, so she kept her conversation informal as she poked around the walls. "Is it true she's not going to wake up?"

That was the greatest tragedy where Saru was concerned. If only he had convinced Lorca to send Mischkelovitz away all those months ago, the quirky scientist would still be with them today. "Unfortunately, it seems unlikely."

"Poor Mac—I mean, Colonel O'Malley. He lost his brother and now his sister, too."

Tilly was preoccupied enough with her assigned task that she did not see the dawning realization in Saru's posture. Saru himself did not have time to finish fully processing the implications.

"Pollard to Commander Saru. Sir, Dr. Mischkelovitz is awake!"

It was a miracle Pollard could not explain. "There was zero brain activity on my scans. A doctor from the Khorana came over and applied some sort of experimental protocol and now..." Pollard had gone to check on Mischkelovitz in the temporary surgical suite and saw the activity change on the monitor. According to the notations left by the other doctor on the chart, the patient was expected to make a full recovery as a result of this mysterious "protocol."

Mischkelovitz looked at Pollard and Saru, strangely sedate. "Can I go now?"

"I don't think that's wise," said Pollard. "I don't know if the protocol has any side effects, or even how it works. I'd like to monitor Dr. Mischkelovitz until further notice."

Mischkelovitz slid off the medical slab, opened one of the drawers set into the base, and pulled out a remote monitor. She slapped it onto her neck. "You're monitoring me. Now can I go?"

"Where is it you wish to go?" asked Saru.

"My quarters," was the answer. "I'm tired."

Pollard shook her head at Saru. Culber might have developed a rapport with Mischkelovitz but no one else on staff had and Mischkelovitz was a notoriously difficult patient. Pollard was more than happy to shift both the blame and responsibility for any decisions onto Saru.

"I believe Colonel O'Malley would prefer you to remain here," suggested Saru.

Mischkelovitz glanced over at O'Malley's still-sleeping form. "I don't want to and I'm going to go."

"Very well, you may go and sleep, but I will expect a full report on the modifications you have made to your lab and the admiral may have questions for you. I know I do. Report to me once you are rested."

"Yes," said Mischkelovitz, glancing at Saru's collar. "Commander."

As Mischkelovitz walked out of sickbay, Saru thought it felt like things had gone back to the way they were when he first met her.

They materialized in the quarters Groves had formerly shared with Larsson. "—tastic, thank... damn it." Groves flopped down on the bed to the right with a sigh. "You can have Larsson's bed," he said, as if this were some form of hospitality and not the most obvious thing in the world.

The quarters were abysmally small. Two beds, a bit of storage space for each, a shared desk, and a meager bathroom. Lorca had assigned this exact ensign double to all the Lab 26 personnel as a preemptively punitive measure and now he was bearing the brunt of the indignity. Curiously, there was already a guitar on Groves' side of the room, rendering the violin a questionable necessity.

"They could've at least sent my clothes," grumbled Lorca, rummaging for a shirt among Larsson's things. Disappointingly, most of what Larsson had was white and all of it was entirely too big.

Groves rolled his eyes at Lorca's intrusion into Larsson's belongings and grabbed something from his own closet. "That would have tipped more people off. Here."

The shirt on offer was red. "Got anything black?" Groves handed Lorca a black t-shirt that had a strange white bug creature printed on it made out of little cubes. "What the hell is this?"

Groves stared impassively. "You don't know Space Invaders? And here I thought my childhood was deprived. How about I..." Groves remembered he was cut off from the computer and began swearing profusely—in English for once.

"Jesus, Groves," said Lorca in a mix of disparagement and mild admiration when the colorful tirade finally ended a full minute later. "Pants?"

Groves pulled all his clothing drawers open in an angry frenzy. "Whatever! Just take it all! I don't care!" Then he got back onto his bed and sulked.

They were barely five minutes in and this was already unbearable.

Lorca noted a certain bareness to Larsson's side of the room. The Swede had little in the way of personal effects, but most of what he did have on display were pictures of himself on various worlds, often with a freshly-caught fish or similar bit of sea fauna dangling on a line. In one image, he was eating dinner with Yoon and Morita. In another, he was laughing and Lalana was clinging to his back with the expression of a deer in headlights because that was essentially the only facial expression she had. Looking closely, though, it was possible to make out the mid-click position of her tongue.

By some miracle there was a single printed book in the room. Unfortunately it turned out to be a vanity copy of the one Larsson had written, Gates of Hell: An In-Depth History of the Uanar-Barosic Wars [2066-2079]. Lorca opened it up and read the dedication. To the best Captain I ever had I dedicate this book. Somehow, Larsson had managed to construct an eleven-word run-on sentence. The rest of the book's prose matched the dedication entirely save for the major difference that most of the other sentences were very, very long indeed. Lorca put the tome back down. He was not yet desperate enough to slog through it.

Out of nowhere, Groves asked, "Do you ever get the urge to just smash something into your face?"

Lorca stared. "No."

"Huh. Guess it's just me."

Grimacing, Lorca laid down and closed his eyes. When he opened them again it was to the sound of a violin being tuned and the cloying smell of sweet potatoes. He sat up, lip twitching in annoyance.

"They beamed in some dinner," Groves informed him. One of the trays was already eaten and the other was missing something from one of the compartments. "I took your dessert. I'd say sorry, but..."

Lorca decided not to take the bait and scooped up a spoonful of cold, orange mush. He lifted it a few inches into the air and turned the spoon sideways, watching the watery goop drip back down into the pile on the tray. It fell a little short of the meal quality he was accustomed to. "This isn't food. Isn't even a meal. There's no meat."

"Don't complain," said Groves, plucking the violin strings with his fingernail and adjusting the tuning. "You're getting off scot-free thanks to me. Cornwell bought the whole 'keep this quiet or we're all screwed' angle."

"You say that like it isn't true," noted Lorca, feeling this finally confirmed his suspicions.

"Oh, it's true. You'd better start accepting it, too, 'cause you're just smart enough to be a danger to yourself if you start getting any more grandiose ideas, and you're definitely a danger to all of us. Every single person who helps you ends up worse off. Lalana, Melly, Mac. Now me. You're human cancer. I liked the other Lorca better."

Lorca shot Groves a wry frown. "You never met the man."

"Yeah, but he killed himself. That I can understand." Groves tucked the violin against his cheek and began to play.

To Lorca's surprise, Groves was good. Very good. Unfortunately, the tune he was playing was little more than a fluttering arrangement of tiny, tinny notes that repeated over and over endlessly. It clearly required technical precision, and there was something momentarily beautiful about it, but the beauty faded into repetitive annoyance. "What the hell is that?"

"Fratres, sort of," said Groves, not missing a single note. If anything, he started playing it even faster. "It was my brother's favorite. I used to play it for him for hours."

"Well I hate it, so I'm telling you to stop."

"In a minute."

"No, now."

Groves turned his back to Lorca and went even faster. The notes became pinpricks, almost too fast to follow. Groves' arms shook violently at the intense effort.

Lorca flicked a spoonful of orange mush at Groves' back. He heard the tiniest squeak of a missed note, nothing more. He debated throwing the whole tray but, as bad as the food was, he needed to eat, so he reached down for one of his boots instead. That stopped the music in its tracks.

"Just for that," said Groves as he turned back, "I'm doing this the easy way." He went over by the door and resumed playing with his fingers so high up on the fingerboard they were almost to the bridge. This time, the sound was not a rapid succession of notes forming any sort of tune but a long, sustained series of high-pitched scraping noises.

It was excruciating. Lorca covered his ears. "Knock it off, Groves! You call that music!?"

"No, you idiot. I'm trying to hack the computer."

"With a violin?"

"Yeah. I can't whistle loud enough at the right pitch to pierce the door, but if I can get the strings just right, I can generate a sound wave that the computer will interpret as a command and then it's off to the races."

Lorca stared. "You're kidding."

"Nah, I'm just that good."

Lorca suspected Groves was lying and just making the noise to annoy him, but it was hardly the craziest thing someone had proposed in the past seventy-two hours and Groves was a bastion of sanity compared to Mischkelovitz. Lorca decided to bear it for a few minutes.

The initial attempt seemed to dissatisfy Groves. He retuned his strings and tried again. There was a pinging snap as one broke. Another adjustment, another attempt.

Groves struck a particularly egregious, painful high note that felt like the audio equivalent of bright lights and Lorca exclaimed in pain. "Sorry," said Groves, almost sounding sincere. He played the note again, even more sharply this time.

The door opened.

"Holy," began Lorca, amazed, but his amazement and Groves' elation faded quickly when they saw Mischkelovitz standing in the doorway.

Or at least, for a moment they thought they did.

"Ne'he kratis-kolht!" gasped Groves, violin and bow falling slackly to his side.

There was no flicker of understanding in Mischkelovitz's eyes. There was no flicker of anything, because while they may have been her eyes, the mind behind them was not. Instead there was a darkness, intense and enduring. She ignored Groves and addressed Lorca. "I'll have that tooth now."

"Petra," said Lorca.

Groves took a step back. He had seen Petrellovitz over the bridge feed when she first arrived on Discovery and been shocked by all her scars. He had also heard the news of her demise at the hands of L'Rell in the cargo bay. The woman in the doorway was impossible on two counts.

She also seemed not to recognize her own brother, which meant it was true. Emellia Petrellovitz had never seen what John Groves looked like when he was grown because she had killed her version of him almost twenty years ago. She failed to even register the resemblance between the man standing to her right and the boy whose last independent act had been to lunge at her with a kitchen knife as she sliced his arms off with an industrial fabrication laser.

Groves stepped away from her, backing straight into the wall. The violin and bow fell from his hands and clattered onto the floor. His mind raced as he tried to figure out how Petrellovitz had come to be here. None of the possibilities he came up with were remotely good.

The tooth was in the pocket of the blood-caked Terran uniform pants draped neatly across the back of the desk chair. Lorca retrieved it and held it out to Petrellovitz. "Here."

She darted forward, greedily snatching the tooth, but her focus on her prize was so all-encompassing she missed the look of determination on Lorca's face and realized too late that he had used the tooth to lure her in.

Lorca grabbed Petrellovitz's wrist, pulling her towards him and wrapping her in an embrace that pinned her arms to her sides. He had used the same move on Georgiou during the fight in the throne room, but this time, it felt like he had taken an ice pick to the chest as she slammed against him because he essentially had. He gasped painfully as his vision swam with spots. "Help me!" he wheezed at Groves.

Groves took one look at the squirming form of his not-sister and shook his head. "I'm not getting kicked again!" Apparently one physical altercation with his sister was enough to make him gun-shy forever.

Petrellovitz did kick, but only into the air, unbalancing Lorca and sending them both crashing back against the floor. A line appeared on Petrellovitz's neck as the seam of her new flesh tore.

"I'm gonna—I'll get Saru!" decided Groves, dashing out the open door. A second later he reappeared, hitting the external controls to seal Lorca and Petrellovitz in.

Petrellovitz struggled furiously and began to twist with the intent of kicking against the bed—a move that would seriously threaten the makeshift repairs in Lorca's chest. The anguished hiss of his breathing became a desperate whisper into her ear. "Petra! Petra, calm down!"

He released her and she bounced away. He rolled over onto his side in pain, inhaling shakily through clenched teeth and holding the breath until he felt in control again. When he exhaled, it was calmly. Then he sat up, resting his arms on his knees.

There was a smear of red across the white space invader on Lorca's borrowed shirt and a matching stain of red down the white of Petrellovitz's stolen Starfleet uniform. Petrellovitz herself would not have called it stolen because it fit as perfectly as if it had been tailor-made for her, just like Mischkelovitz's skin. How could you steal what was clearly meant to belong to you?

"You idiot," she scowled at him, pressing a hand to the gash on her neck. "Now they know it's me!"

"Believe me, Groves was halfway to that conclusion when you didn't answer him at the door."

The scowl twisted with annoyance. "Groves?" She recognized Corinne Narvic's maiden name and put the pieces together. Groves entirely had his mother's coloration: the same dusky brown skin, dark eyes, and dark hair. "You're telling me that's Johnny?"

Lorca shrugged and smirked. "Listen up. We don't have much time. How soon can you get your little mushroom transporter going again?"

"I'm done with mushrooms," said Petrellovitz, scanning the floor and spotting the tooth. It had landed under the bed in the scuffle. She crawled under to retrieve it.

"Unless you know of a better way for us to get back..."

"Back?" repeated Petrellovitz as she reemerged with the tooth. "Why the hell would I want to go back. For that matter, why do you?"

"Our people are counting on us."

Petrellovitz stared. "You lost, Gabriel. I'm not interested in watching you pick up the pieces or getting captured again because of you."

"Petra, you know me. I'll find a way. We can do it together, like Michael would've wanted. You can rule as an empress if you want. I'll back you."

"My god, you are pathetic. Good luck with that. I'm not helping you. I have research to do." She slipped the tooth into her pocket and stood up.

The door opened. Groves had returned with Saru.

"Commander!" exclaimed Petrellovitz in a voice an octave and a half higher than Lorca had ever heard her use. "Thank goodness you're here! I came to see my brother and he pushed me and said I was from the other universe! I'm not from the other universe. Here, you can scan me!" She pulled her sleeve partway up her right arm, offering it to Saru for inspection.

"Your brother is in sickbay," said Saru, confused.

"Other brother," offered Lorca, momentarily glad to see someone else on the other side of the reveal for once. He could see now why Groves enjoyed the mislead so much. It was so stupid and obvious in retrospect.

Saru was audibly bitter. "Mr. Groves."

"I..." Groves looked at the stranger masquerading as his sister and realized he was facing a dilemma. They both knew she was lying. They also both knew Mischkelovitz was gone and never coming back and there was nothing Groves could do to change this, except maybe lie like both their lives depended on it. "I'm sorry, Mischka. I thought... I guess I was wrong."

With a deep breath, Saru informed "Mischkelovitz" that, as innocent as her intentions were, she was not to be in this room. "Then can I speak to my brother for a moment?" she asked. "I promise I'll leave after and I won't come back."

"You may have five minutes," granted Saru.

The semisweet façade faded the moment Saru was gone. "You didn't have to do that," said Petra darkly.

"Yeah, well," said Groves, turning away from her. "You didn't trigger Saru's ganglia so I guess you're not a threat."

"Stay out of my way and that will remain true."

Lorca grunted as he used the table to heave himself back up. "So that's it? You're just gonna stay here and play pretend?"

"It's a clean slate," said Petrellovitz. "It's not pretend."

"These people are on the verge of losing a war against the Klingons."

"Whether they do or not doesn't matter. Humans, Klingons, money, power, love. All of these things are fleeting. Only science is eternal. You got in the way of my science, Gabriel, you and Michael both, with your piddling little power struggles and politics. All I ever wanted to do was pursue my research and everyone's always getting in the way. Not here. Here, I'm free to create a legacy that will stand the test of time. And they'll let me do it, too. Either side, whoever wins, will have a place for me. I'm only sorry I stuck with you as long as I did." She realized now, had she gone through the transporter herself instead of sending him, she could have had this universe months ago. She banged her fist twice on the door and Saru let her out. Out of the five minutes she had been given, she had barely used one.

Lorca could have called after her, tried to convince her with new promises and platitudes, but he knew it was pointless. Petrellovitz was gone and she was never coming back to him. The only reason she had stuck with Lorca to begin with was his promise of unfettered access to whatever research projects she wanted. For years that arrangement had worked for her, but now he could not provide any such access and she had no use for him.

Lorca sat down on Larsson's bed and pressed his face into his hands. Groves watched with wary concern. It was impossible to read the intent of Lorca's face when his expression was covered. Then Lorca shuddered as he inhaled and Groves realized he did not need Lorca's face to know what the former captain was presently feeling.

"I'm sorry," said Groves, and for the first time, he meant it.

"Don't you pity me!" spat Lorca.

Groves sat down opposite Lorca. "Never," he said. He reached under his pillow and pulled out something wrapped in a hand towel. "I think this is yours."

It was a cookie. Not the fortune kind, the regular sort with chocolate chips, purloined from Lorca's dinner tray. Groves had not eaten it, merely tucked it away to save for later.

Sighing, Lorca took the cookie and broke off a morsel. "You know, Saru's ganglia aren't infallible. I never tripped 'em."

"Why would you? You weren't actually a threat to us. I mean, you've done a lot of crap, but in your own way, you were trying to help."

The cookie did not offer the same comfort as its fortune-filled cousin. "I thought I was human cancer."

"Cancer is just cell growth gone awry," said Groves with a shrug. "Perfectly natural and necessary part of life. Anyway, I had to play along. Think about it. If we don't match history closely enough, we'll disappear just like the holo-recording did. History says you died. History also says Emellia lived long enough to record something that no longer exists. Which means..."

Which meant nothing Lorca did for the rest of his life would make a mark in history. It was his destiny to die a forgotten echo of another man, doing nothing, being nothing.

John Allan stepped out from the wall and was confronted by his own disappointment. Lab 26 was empty, exactly as it should have been at this point in history, but some part of him had hoped it would be otherwise.

After twelve years on this assignment, it was hard to let go. He had learned the hard way that history had a way of surprising you and he would have liked one last surprise. A chance to say a real goodbye.

He was still dressed in the Terran uniform he had been wearing at the moment of his exposure as a temporal agent. On some level, the black suited him. Temporal agents were supposed to be like shadows, watching and safeguarding history without being entangled in it, and the uniform made him look the part even if he had failed miserably at being a shadow in the end.

Literally at the end. Twelve years and no one had suspected a thing. At least now he knew why "John Allan" disappeared from the historical record during Discovery's time in the mirror universe. That had always been a question mark with this assignment. Now he knew it was because he had been exposed.

Allan had failed to be a perfect shadow, but he had completed both his mission objectives: first, to guard the scientists Mischkelovitz, progenitors of the research and development of temporal stasis field technology (a crucial advantage in the temporal war and subsequently a banned technology), and second, to bring back the data from Discovery's jaunt in the mirror universe, because on that count, the historical record was severely lacking. Now the future would have a full record of events from someone who had lived them. History had helpfully even preselected the man for the job centuries before his own birth.

With a full copy of Discovery security archives prior to the wipe in his pocket, Allan finally had everything he needed to report in and no further reason to stay here.

So why was this so hard? He touched a finger to Mischkelovitz's desk.

As he wondered this, the transceiver in his dental implant vibrated in alert, signaling the arrival of another agent. A shimmer of black materialized in front of him.

No, not another agent. He stared at his own face in surprise.

They were both wearing the black uniforms of the Terran Empire. For a moment Allan worried he had brought back his mirror counterpart, but something in the other Allan's eyes told him he was looking at himself.

"Hey," they both said at the same time, which was all the confirmation either of them needed to know where they stood.

The second Allan was holding a portable jumper in his hands. These were highly controlled devices typically issued only to transit agents, not active assets, because the danger of such devices falling into the wrong hands was tremendous. "I remember standing where you are," said the second Allan. "Which is why I know it's time for me to give you this." He held out the jumper.

Allan took it, confused. "Why?"

Allan II held up a silver holodisc. "Because of this."

The message was as confusing to Allan as it was miraculous. "Mischka in the winter, okay, but bells and pots...?"

"Null time," supplied Allan II.

"Ah!" It made perfect sense in context. Add a chronitic contaminant to the spore canisters. Allan smiled.

"The destinations are already preset. Here's the Crestian flu for Chaudhuri and the T-nox agent for the spores. Careful not to confuse them. I know you won't, I just had to say it because I remember hearing it. Safe trip."

The first Allan vanished. A second later he walked out from the wall. "You lied," he said, holding up the holodisc. "Where did this come from?"

The other Allan smiled. "The original timeline." He shook his head, overtly pleased for having succeeded in tricking himself so thoroughly. "It was brilliant, really. Do you see how she did it? How we did it?"

"You're not me," said Allan. He had figured it out when he was standing in front of the spore canisters and realized the only way he could have pinpointed the exact date and time she referred to as "the time the lights went out" was if he had lived something that matched what she described, and he hadn't.

There was also no way the recording could exist if they were in a closed loop which had never required the message's creation; like energy, temporal information had to come from somewhere. That meant the loop was not closed.

"No," confirmed the other Allan. "I'm not. I'm an echo from another timeline. A timeline where it took Melly thirty more years to finish Milosz's work and develop the temporal stasis field. That was her great contribution to history. She did it here, too, but thirty years sooner. Passing her own research notes back to herself. End result: no discernible change to the outcome of history."

Allan's eyes teared up because even if Mischkelovitz had not changed her role in history, her fate had been drastically altered and that mattered a great deal to him.

Allan II continued, "I actually tried to do the changes myself, but when I went to make the first one, I saw you doing it instead. Turns out I didn't need to do anything, I just needed to tell you to. The question was, when? Then I realized I just had to scan for the point where the jumper was active twice. This point here. So now, can I have my jumper back?"

Allan considered that.

"Come on," said the other Allan, beckoning with his hand. "It is mine. And they'll retrieve you when you activate your transponder."

Allan wasn't sure if he trusted himself. To him, this felt like his mirror counterpart. "What are you going to use it for?"

"I'm going to give that bastard a piece of my mind."

There was no need to ask what bastard the other Allan was referring to. Allan desperately wanted to give Lorca a piece of his mind, too. This way, it would be like he was, even if he wasn't the one delivering the message personally. He handed the jumper back to the other Allan. "Do me a favor, will you?"

"For you?" smirked the other Allan, because of course he was willing to do a favor for himself. "Anything!"

"Tell him I'll never forgive him for what he did to Melly."

"You got it. Do me a favor and don't tell anyone I exist?" Allan II activated his jumper and was gone.

The Allan who had been born into and participated in this version of the timeline lingered in the lab, wondering how the other version of him could be satisfied with causing this version of events. Lorca alive, Mischkelovitz dead and skinned, three monsters from the mirror universe roaming free in their universe. How could this possibly be an improvement on the original events? He took a moment to compose himself before activating his transponder for remote retrieval.

But then, the other Allan had only intersected with the timeline in this universe briefly. Once to see himself performing the necessary changes, once to deliver the instructions. He had not been hiding on Discovery and watching events unfold in real-time and seen the truth. So far as he knew from his scan of the historical record, Lorca was dead, Mischkelovitz had recovered from an injury caused by her implants, and everything had turned out the same in the end.

That was the information the temporal remnant known as John Allan had happily taken as justification to jump back and accompany Discovery to the mirror universe again. After all, he had a jumper and no one in this timeline knew he existed. Why not take the opportunity to torment the tyrannical Terran captain in the hours before his death? After that, he could go anywhere he wanted in time and, so long as he kept his head down, witness firsthand all of his favorite historical events. It was a time traveler's dream come true.

In the end, neither John Allan truly understood the nuances of time travel. All they could do was act according to the information they had, as they had always been fated to do.

Part 99

[thedoughnutdiaries]

hey all,

i have been wanting to do a home tour of our apartment for a while now and finally got around to taking the pics today! mind you they were on my iphone so the quality isn’t that great and i did a LOT of editing in vsco, but you get the gist of our home pretty well :)

coming this october, we will have been in our astoria (that’s in queens!) apartment for 4 years!!! what we thought was just going to be a one-year thing has lasted us this long. i remember when i first moved out to nyc how daunting apartment hunting was. it was right after college and tyler was still living back in minneapolis so i was embarking on this journey alone. i had no where idea where to begin - there are so many websites and sometimes it can be hard to tell what is real and what is a scam. i scoured manhattan and the boroughs on weekends, after work and even during work sometimes. it was a nightmare. i actually remember walking through brooklyn softly crying to myself and thinking how this is NEVER going to happen. but, i came across a listing on craigslist for a junior 1BR located in astoria. i didn’t know much about queens, but the commute was really short and the apartment had charm. so i went and looked, made a downpayment and two days later it was MINE! i called up tyler and told him to book his one way flight because, baby, WE HAVE AN APARTMENT! 

for a long, long time our apartment was kind of a sad place. since it was our first place ever we started from scratch with all of our furniture besides the bed (thanks aunt jane and uncle brian!). with only one of us having a job right away (tyler was still searching for one) ikea was basically our go-to place. ugh, i wish i could show you the evolution of our apartment so badly!! for a while it was just white walls, a futon, a kitchen table and a bed. but eventually we both had jobs, and promotions happened and we were able to really make it our own. :) just to be upfront, i have a VERY heavy hand in the decorating (if you thought tyler picked out the unicorn pillow, think again! haha). tyler though knows that once i have a vision, he might as well just let it come to fruition because there is NO stopping me. and i love him so so much for that quality :) i think if i didn’t go to school for advertising, it definitely would have been interior design. i particularly love mid-century modern, so a lot of our apartment has that vibe. but hey, tyler did the gallery wall above our bed (one of the first things he did when he moved out here!) and that has been a staple in our bedroom. it is filled with art tyler has made, photos we love, and art done by my talented friend samantha. <3 

living in nyc and in a tiny apartment garners lot of questions. it is a bit foreign to our family and friends back home and to be honest, suburban life is just different from city life. one isn’t better than the other and there are pros and cons to both scenarios. obviously space is a HUGE topic of conversation. the truth is it is really challenging. like a lot of people who own a house or even just a much larger apartment, we don’t have the luxury of having a lot of “stuff”. sometimes that can be a pain, but i’ve seen it sort of as a blessing in disguise. not having space really makes you think about what you need vs. what you want. 2-3 times a year tyler and i will go through all of our clothes and clean out things we no longer wear and donate them or take them to this spot, buffalo exchange, to try and get some cash back!! doing this is actually very cleansing. my rule is typically if i haven’t worn it in a year, then out it goes! we also LIVE for space under furniture. we store a ton of things under the bed and couch in plastic bins. also, our closets help enormously. lucky for us, our apartment has two pretty spacious ones that go all the way up to the ceiling (our ceilings are 10ft!). so we are able to do a lot with that space as well. sure, i would love to have a spare closet for more things or even hide all of that junk above our cabinets, but we are working with what we have and so far it hasn’t been THAT bad. :)

you might also notice in the pictures above that we don’t own a tv. based on the layout of the apartment, there isn’t really a great spot, however i do have something in my mind that i have been wanting to do, but i’m just trying to convince tyler to get on board ;) stay tuned. for now, we just watch shows off our ipad and computer and it works out! (sling and netflix is basically all you need in life). we also don’t have a dishwasher, which DEF sucks sometimes, but it forces us to clean our dishes right after we eat - it is a pain and a plus at the same time. and don’t just assume that i do them, tyler and i usually trade off who does dishes based on who made dinner so that it is fair for the other person :) and if you were wondering if we had a washer/dryer, we sure don’t! but luckily our laundromat is just right around the corner. i really thought that was going to be difficult to get used to, but it isn’t bad at all. and if you are feeling super luxurious, you can do wash and fold - you drop your dirty laundry off and you pick it in a clean, folded bag :) i actually have yet to do this...what am i thinking?!? 

as i mentioned, we have done a TON of modifications over the past 3 years. everything from painting, to new furniture to my most recent project - the kitchen counters and backsplash. YOU GUYS. if you are renting an apartment and your countertops are hideous, i highly recommend trying marble contact paper. it completely transformed the space. and if you hate your boring painted wall, you can buy removable backsplash tiles! i am so happy with how it turned out (let me know if you are interested more on this topic!). 

there is still a lot of work i want to do with our aparment, but i really feel like we have maximized our space in all ways possible. tyler and i love coming home to a space that feels cozy and personal vs. a drab blank slate. for you renters out there, paint your walls, hang up art and make the space your own. you will feel SO much happier - flowers also help :) all in all, tyler and i are very happy with our cozy junior 1BR apartment. who knows how much longer we will be in this exact space. all i know is i am enjoying the days we are here because i know it will be so sad when it comes time to leave! 

xo,

grace

ps - almost all of our furniture is from target, cb2, wayfair and west elm! 

[henryatkinsfmp2]

FMP Evaluation

Quite a conventional title right?

I suppose I should start with the beginning. The idea around everything I did was just one I came up with on the bus. The problem was I didn’t deviate much off of it. I wrote a story around a person with a real-life plasma weapon arm and I did my research but the most deviation I made in the end was not showing the character with the weapon at the end and the kind of hologram I used. Mostly because of time limitations.

The idea also included development process on how the wielder of what I thought at the time to be a potentially heavy weapon was given more modifications to help carry, let alone use the weapon.

Before I had to decide on the format I was going to take this is. I always do this because I always want to either try something new or develop a skill I hadn’t before. This time I appropriately followed in the footsteps of my last FMP with animated 3D models. It failed last time because I stretched myself too thin with multiple ideas to have live action clips inter-spliced with these animated models in the real world. It came out short, only 3D animated and ugly although I did manage to throw in a computer segment that apparently caught my tutors attention more than the animation. So this time I wanted to keep it simple and keep it all in a computer simulation narrative with a log in sequence, very reminiscent of my last FMP, and models rotating and animating simply on a black background.

One more thing came to mind. Holograms, I was told during the last project how easy holograms are so I decided on using that as the presentation format.

The research I did was deeply rooted in how Plasma science actually works because I wanted an accurate model of both the outside and inside. Although my model did end up looking silly and

Sci-Fi on the outside I did make the insides actually look like a machine which I am very proud of. I think it might have been the most successful part of this entire Project because of the detail in the model!

What I would have done differently though is have more Pinterest boards. Or any. I included plenty of Harvard referencing, videos explaining the science and even forum boards and Emails discussing little elements like the recoil of a plasma weapon and the gun laws application to a prosthetic weapon as well as the recognition of a new kind of weapon but I definitely could have benefited more with even a mood board.

The designing of the weapon came a little later on the account of the research into machines that create plasma. What came first however were the character models that would wield the weapon. I tried a soldier type face, a dumb face which accurately reflects how the Americans put lost hopes into the military, as well as a child just because of the convention of giving children super powers in comics and cartoons like Astroboy. It was a distant concept for a character from the more realistic approach I was coming from so the child design isn’t exactly overly original compared to the others.

The design I evolved from was the dumb looking one. I could have gone with the soldier type but in order to have a stage-by-stage display of the development of this weapon I preferred someone more inexperienced.

I drew up some variations. Although I liked the first too much I did end up with a new design I liked better. I guess that says a lot about the development stage.

My tutors enjoyed the original and one of the variations respectively however I realised I needed a compromise between them. One was too short and the other (which was the original) just had too dumb a face. Overtime I became less accustomed to it and made a combination of the two designs to create a midway point that looked more normal. In the long-run it became incredibly helpful when designing the model. Imagine a man with legs shorter than their arms. It’s chaos and exactly what one of the original designs was like!

What I’m saying is that this is one of the better differences I made to my process on a project that came out even better than usual and something I definitely wouldn’t change.

The plasma weapon design was straight forward enough. Note down the designs of the equipment used of both a Plasma torch and the Plasma weapon in Missouri University and then design a casing for it and ammunition.

I few different designs were floating around but none but the simplistic tube, which I ended up using, were good enough. I either looking over complicated or like a bunch of random 3D shapes were thrown together excluding the Helix ammunition and the Revolver chamber designs which, although my favourite, appeared to me to be impractical.

Unfortunately there was something quite large that never made it to my blog but was mentioned in my reflective Vlog multiple times.

The New York trip.

Although we went to so many different places, I had my own spots to visit for research purposes. They were some Prosthetics centres which I hoped to get interviews with. When it came to contacting them they either dismissed me, said they were booked or didn’t bother picking up the phone. Many quarters wasted.

Even worse was I did record the whole experience in New York on my camera in video and had planned to edit all the clips together into a super video. This has proven to be quite a monumental task since I’m still half way through as I have been trying to juggle FMP work with it.

I regret nothing more on this project than not being able to include it in my work outside of merely hinting at it.

The Prosthetic research and designing got as developed as real-world examples, a Harvard reference of a Cyborg comic from DC (which I got from NYC) and two designs in total. One sketch without looking at any research (which was a terrible idea and a terrible drawing) and a finished design which were copies of real technology. This element of the project just wasn’t as important to me as the plasma weapon and, although I could have done immensely more on this designs development, they already existed as real world technology and I feel that I needn’t reinvent the wheel.

The modelling process was pretty straight forward and I either learnt new techniques or rediscovered old ones like splines. I got as far as designing the final design or the plasma weapon and the character model but I did one more for presentation purposes.

Again, this takes second to the plasma weapon part but I made a 3D logo as a sort of screensaver to animate for some context that this is all taking place in a computer simulation.

I had a stray old file of a logo I was going to use at my leisure in video games which was a decent filler for this position.

Now, the problem was animating the character. I did start with my own technique using groups to align anchor points for each hinge of the body and putting every other limb of the body into each group in the same way until the finger tip from the torso. Imagine hinges screwed onto hinges.

The problem was how complex this appeared to be. I never got a moment to animate it before my tutor introduced my to Mixamo which is an Adobe website that provides stock models, stock animation and can add skeletons to animate to any model I upload.

It was going smoothly until I wanted to add the Plasma weapon and that’s where it all fell apart.

Mixamo decided it didn’t like the new model I was giving it and that’s where animating the character model came to a grinding halt.

I got as far as an idle animation.

What was good was that I at least had the highlight of my FMP work done. The Plasma weapon animation of it rotating and then being cut in half exposing the insides.

The logo was done as well but that wasn’t as important.

Besides this I needed a story. A reason for this all to exist.

I thought of an Iron man kind of story except Tony Stark is building these weapons for the military like he used to. The next was a communist or zombie space war but that seemed to Call of Duty Black Ops to me and has been done to death.

What I decided on was just the mere implications of a weapon firing something hotter than the surface of the sun on the battlefield which, in narrative, is being offered to the military for use in the field. It did occur to me that it seems useless if you could just use bullets which are faster (I did the maths based on the Missouri devices speed of 2Ft in a tenth of a second). My excuse was terrorists with stolen military armour that’s impervious to bullets and thus melting through them seems more practical than missiles which may miss the target or sheltered enemies.

A dash of multiple industrial companies building this together to appear more realistic than one overpowered company like Stark industries and I’m done!

Personally, I think this story development wasn’t overdone or underdone and I wouldn’t change anything. I could still easily change everything else but this story.

Editing was also straight forward. Some cutting up, some added sounds and the voice-over clips I recorded with my parents were layered on top as well.

I used them nothing more but because of their adult voices.

The lines weren’t much to talk about either. My mum voiced a generic A.I. that described what was happening potentially off screen like hacking and playing videos while my dad voiced the unnamed engineer character whose just explaining the plasma weapon.

It was still vastly disappointing that I couldn’t get the character model animated but there’s little I could have done if Mixamo hates my guts.

With the digital stuff done I’m just left with the Holographic projector and everything else I would use for the presentation. To get it out of the way I have a black curtain from the drama prop shed to go around the door to the closet I’ve shotgunned and I’ve spray painted black a plinth to put everything on. My tutors hate my spray paint job and don’t want me near another can of spray paint for the rest of my mortal life.

The science of the holographic projector has technically been available to us for years. It’s just reflections. Originally I was planning of building a four sided one to make it look especially 3D. Unfortunately I both ran out of time to render different angles of the models I’d made (because of ridiculous rendering times) and that the building of the four sided projector was the most fiddly thing I’ve ever attempted to do.

First I tried wood, no, metal, no. I ended up just downgrading to a single sided hologram and then building it out of metal and wood glue which I was convinced by a friend would come out clear.

You can imagine how annoyed my tutors were when they saw the copper skeleton lathered in white glue.

One of my tutors luckily remembers how to build one and did it himself.

For the record he agrees completely with me that workshop stuff is not my strong suit and is better left with him.

A few tries later (because the tutor was busy and left specific instructions with the workshop tutors who apparently handled it poorly) and we have it!

A test and a coat of black (non-spray) paint later and I’m pretty much done.

Originally I had a much, much more complicated design for the projector since I understood that tailoring it to work with the college computers meant I couldn’t use it at home with anything else but in order to get anything done at all I dismissed my overcomplicated yet versatile idea.

The conclusion was… surprisingly better than I thought. I cut back a lot more than expected since I assumed I wasn’t overworking myself because I planned so little models and designs compared to my FMP in 2017 but I’m happy that I got something done. Frankly I think this takes a joint second with my previous favourite work which was a minute and a half long chalk board animation.

If I could have done anything differently it would of course be what I planned to do. I think I’m done with animating in 3D unless I’m keeping it simple. Next time I do any animating I want to keep it 2D and drawn by hand.

Holograms were fun too and I’ll probably end up using the projector I now have again in the future. Probably as a regular computer screen.

[ssteezyy]

Ask the Cat Behaviorist: Mikel Delgado Answers Questions About Cats Who Wake Up their Guardians, Aggressive Cats, Cats Who Bury Their Food, and More

Welcome to our regular “Ask the Cat Behaviorist with Mikel Delgado” segment. Once a month, we’ll post a reminder for you to post your questions for Mikel. She’ll answer as many of them as she can each time, and I’ll publish her answers in a subsequent post.

Mikel is a Certified Cat Behavior Consultant at Feline Minds, offering on-site consultations for cat guardians, shelters, and pet-related businesses in the San Francisco Bay Area, and remote consultations around the world. She obtained her PhD in Psychology at UC Berkeley, where she studied animal behavior and human-pet relationships. Mikel is co-author of Jackson Galaxy’s forthcoming book, Total Cat Mojo: The Ultimate Guide to Life with Your Cat.

Cat buries her food dish after eating

Hi! Multi-cat household and one of our four kitties relentless buries her food dish when she is done eating. She will bury anything nearby (toys, blanket edges, etc.) into the dish, making a big mess. And this is not like a few paw swipes at it and she moves on – she will go on for a while at different angles and bury, bury, bury. Even when we try to stop her (redirect her attention or shake the spray bottle), she continues or stops only momentarily and goes back to it like she is in some kind of OCD brain lock.

Why would a cat do this? The other cats have learned this behavior from her now and will take a few swipes to bury their dishes too, though with much less fervor.

She is a 10 year old calico who was found as a kitten with her litter on a farm with no momma cat and we adopted both her and her sister. They are both very sweet and this one is especially cuddly.

Could it be some kind of protection thing from an unsafe kittenhood? (Nicole Hatton)

Nicole, Such an interesting question! This is one of those cat behaviors that we don’t have a solid agreed-upon reason for. There are a few different theories about why cats do this – some think the cat is saving their food for later, others think they are hiding a scent that might attract predators or other animals. Whatever it is, this is probably a behavior that helped cats survive throughout their evolutionary history, even if it doesn’t serve much of a function now (and as you have described, can be messy and annoying!).

Anytime I have a cat who is “obsessed” with something, I think about how we can give that cat other things to do – and of course my favorite things would be to add more interactive play – particularly before her meals, to see if that helps her settle afterward. You could try feeding several smaller meals per day so there are no leftovers for her to bury. I’d also recommend trying food puzzles with her! There are many options available that can work with both wet and dry food. See foodpuzzlesforcats.com for ways to get started!

Cat attacks tip of his tail

My cat keeps attacking the tip of his tail (Elaine Hughes)

Elaine, Tail-attacking can have a few different presentations. In some cases, it’s just a very young playful cat who needs more interactive play and enrichment to keep him busy. But with some cats, it can be quite serious. The cat might seem obsessed with or upset by his tail – you might even hear some growling. Some cats will even start to injure their tail. This tail obsession can be caused by pain or a condition called feline hyperesthesia syndrome (FHS) – a condition that unfortunately is not well understood. We think it’s a neurological condition, but often it is a diagnosis of exclusion – meaning other things are ruled out, and what we are left with is FHS. I would start with a vet visit to see if any other causes can be ruled out. The treatment for FHS often includes medication, but other stress-reducing interventions, such as increased exercise and enrichment, and providing your cat with as much routine as possible, can help.

Cat stopped using the litter box

One of my furbabies has suddenly stopped using the litter box and I don’t know why (Tracy Bayne)

Tracy, There are several reasons that cats can stop using the litter box, so I’d need a lot more information to offer you a useful modification plan. The first step would be making sure your cat gets a clean bill of health from your veterinarian, especially if they are older and more prone to illnesses such as diabetes or kidney disease which can impact litter box behavior.

The second thing I would recommend is taking a long, hard look at the litter box and make sure it suits your cat’s needs, not just yours. Do you have enough boxes for the number of cats you have? Are they large and open and not all clustered in one location in your house? Is there a box on every floor of your home and are they easy for your cat to access? Do you use a soft, clumping, unscented litter? Do you clean them regularly?

The third step is making sure your cat is living a relatively stress-free, enriched life. Play, routine and other forms of environmental stimulation are important to cats. If there is tension in any cat relationships (or with anyone else in the home) – you’ll want to resolve that – possibly with an experienced and qualified cat behavior consultant.

Cat with PICA

I had a cat with PICA. Of course back then we didn’t know anything about it. But she liked fibers and buttons. She would pull blankets and rugs apart to eat. One time I took some clothes to a consignment store and was called to pick up the damaged things. It turns out as she hid in her favorite sleeping spot in the closet, she was chewing on the bottoms of my clothes. She pulled strings out, ate beading and buttons. Luckily she never had any blockages. (Janine)

Janine, Thank you for sharing your experience. It points out the importance of knowing your cat’s favorite spots and habits! Many people don’t realize that their cat chews on non-food items until they become sick and have an x-ray! I’m so glad your cat never had a blockage!

Hyperthyroid cat won’t eat

My cat is hyperthyroidism and recently high blood pressure when I try all the pres, freeze dried whipped, mouse high end foods she won’t eat them. She loves her fancy feast. Teega is 6lbs a tiny 14 yr old feral runt.. can anybody talk to her. Thanks LISA

Hi Lisa, I don’t “talk to cats” in the sense I am not an animal communicator. I believe in taking a behaviorally-based approach to behavior issues. That said, I’m not sure that Teega has a behavior issue. It sounds like you need to work with your veterinarian to make sure her treatment is working for her. Perhaps an appetite stimulant would help; what many people think is just “snubbing” food can be signs of nausea or digestive upset that can be managed with medications. When cats are older and have medical issues, I also think you should feed them…pretty much whatever brand of cat food they like, as long as your vet says it is okay!

Demanding, destructive, aggressive cat

My cat is bad with me, my husband and our home. He demands affection (he rubs against us, a lot), but when we pet him he bites eventually. We tried to teach him to stay away from places (like the table) using water on a spray bottle, but he broke the bottle, two of them! We tried to use the tape method to keep him away from stuff, but then again, played with the tape and ignored it. If we try to keep him away from places like the bed or a window, he quickly goes back to THAT place and looks at us, like challenging us.

He bites randomly, scratches drawing blood, I’ve had bruises from his bites. He also tries to destroy everything, he makes glasses fall, scratches the sofa and curtains (they are ruined now), the bed, my plushies, but he also has some toys: a scratching post, catnip figure, balls, a thing with balls that move; his cat litter is the best quality I could find where I live, gets cleaned every day, the house also is very clean, he has two beds, a fountain with running water, and the best quality food I can afford. But for the sake of me, I can’t get him to be calm. He suddenly runs around the entire apartment, with his eyes dilated, his claws at its maximum, I just want him to be at peace with us, and play with us, and not bite all the time. He’s around 10 months old, he’s adopted and we have around 3 months with him. Will this stop? Should I do something different?

We also started to get him into his cage to eat or do stuff that provoke him. Please, help! (Elia)

Hi Elia, It sounds like you have a teenager! Just like the human kind, teenage cats are notorious for their button-pushing, high energy, attention seeking behaviors. I see this often in my consulting practice! Sometimes the best solution is a kitty companion of a similar temperament, but that isn’t possible for everyone. But in most cases, rather than being “twice the work” – it ends up being much less work than dealing with a singleton who is bored!

What your kitty likely needs is more exercise and mental simulation. I would start with two or three intense play session a day, where you use different interactive toys to get him stalking, running, chasing and pouncing! Try toys like a feather wand, cat dancer, or any other toy with a string or wire that YOU move like prey to get him engaged. After play, try a meal or snack to help him calm down. He might also benefit from food puzzles to get him working for his food! Also, it’s important not to use your hands as toys, because that sends mixed messages to your cat – sometimes hands are for gentle things, and sometimes they are for biting and scratching. So no rough housing please!

You didn’t mention any vertical space in your home, but you need multiple cat condos or shelves, and they should be placed in areas where they serve a purpose, such as giving him a view of a bird feeder or the outside world. Regarding the petting, with young cats, they can go from relaxed to wound up in a flash, and even when they are soliciting attention, they may suddenly reach a threshold for petting tolerance and bite. The best way to prevent this type of biting is to again, tire him out with as much exercise as you can provide, and then be careful to limit the petting. Always stop before he gets irritated, so he is left wanting more, not less attention. If you watch carefully, you may notice some subtle signals that he is getting overstimulated – such as ear movements or muscle tightening. Those are your cues that it’s time to stop petting – NOW!

When he broke your spray bottle, he was sending you a message: this type of punishment is useless! I spend a lot of time convincing my clients that the spray bottle isn’t going to get them what they want. Some cats don’t mind the water, but what often happens is that it just breaks the bond between you and your cat and potentially makes your cat even more wary of you.

Instead, I like to focus on clicker training and positive reinforcement to tell him what behaviors you DO LIKE, instead of focusing on “NO!” and “get down from there.” A “NO!” isn’t helpful, because it doesn’t tell your cat what to do instead…but if you clicker train him to sit, or go to a mat, or roll over, you are telling him what you like, and what will get him the rewards he wants, such as attention.

For counter surfing, you can use a better type of “remote punishment” – meaning the punishment is not associated with you. Double sided carpet tape can be sturdier than commercial products designed to deter cats. The motion-sensitive air cans are also effective for keeping cats off counters.

High energy kitten causes trouble

KITTEN TROUBLE!!!! I found a stray kitten on our doorstep about four months ago and he won’t stop being just downright naughty. He flings dirt out of pots so we spray this cat deterrent thing and he doesn’t care much. He attacks our other three cats (I know we shouldn’t have that many but we do have a large house) so we play with him and play with him but it’s never enough and it’s causing a lot of stress so we had to go to squirt bottle. He knocks everything over and he’s obsessed with going into any open door such as cabinets and the front door. He wakes up my father who works hard nights with his meowing and stampeding across the halls like a bat outta hell. He’s not afraid of anything but car rides and he’s causing lots of stress. So what should we do? I understand he has a lot of energy but I don’t want to throw him back out on the street. Please help. I bet it isn’t the easiest life for him either. (Leah Bonetti)

Leah, Thank you for taking in a homeless kitten!! (see my response above to Elia about having a teenager!). He does sound a little bored (which may have more to do with his personality than what you’re providing – some cats just NEED way more play and stimulation than others).

Just like with Elia’s kitty, I would recommend focusing on positive reinforcement, and remote punishment for the naughty behaviors. For the dirt-digging, cover the dirt with large rocks to take away that temptation. Childproof your cabinets to prevent him from opening them.

As far as his relations with your other cats, he might need an age-appropriate playmate, playtime with you, or some solo time to prevent him from driving your other cats nuts. Try to bring him together with the other cats when he’s had playtime, followed by a hefty meal, to help him settle down and be more calm.

The kitten might also benefit from food puzzles and automatic toys. He needs plenty to keep him busy. I’m not usually a huge fan of the automatic toys, and they certainly can’t replace interactive play with you, but they can supplement it. The Hexbug Nano is my favorite, but there are plenty of options out there these days.

Finally, consider how you can add some vertical space and other enrichment, such as a bird feeder that attaches to a window, to entice him to look out the window and get some mental stimulation while learning to sit back and relax a little!

Also, I don’t think four cats is too many ! It all depends on what you can provide for them, and how well they get along!

Cat wakes guardians up at night

Every night around 1 am and again at 5 am our cat comes into the bedroom and knocks things down and scratches at the furniture, keeping us awake. She’s done this once in a while ever since we adopted her, but it’s been about a month now that she’s been doing it every single night. We spray her with water which makes her run away but she comes right back a minute later. We have an automatic feeder that now has been set to feed her at 1 and 5 am, but she eats and then comes right back to doing it. (It didn’t start out feeding her at those times so I know it’s not positive reinforcement causing the problem.) We also play with her at least 30 minutes every evening (we play until she’s tired) with a fishing pole toy. We can’t shut her out of the bedroom because it’s where we keep her litterbox, and if we put the litterbox somewhere else and close the door she’ll scratch at the door all night which our downstairs neighbors can hear and they already hate us. I’m honestly out of ideas and am desperate for a solution. I’m so tired of losing sleep. Please help! (Caroline)

Caroline, Your complaint is a common one, in fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve answered it in a previous column! I’ve already commented this time around on how I feel about the water bottle. I’m not a fan.

Cats wake their humans up during the night because they get something out of it!! Solving this problem usually requires a two-pronged approach: changing the cats routine so they are up more during the day and sleeping more at night, and then changing YOUR behavior so your cat does not get attention for her middle of the night antics.

To get your cat on your schedule requires more mental stimulation and activity during the day. The fishing pole toy in the evening is good – but you have to consider the rest of the day when she is probably asleep (no doubt exhausted from her nighttime antics!). Try food puzzles to get her working for ALL of her food. Vertical space near a window will allow her to people- or bird-watch during the day. If you’re not feeding your kitty on a schedule, I recommend switching to scheduled feeding, or at least withdrawing some of her food in the later part of the day, so you can put down a final meal at your bed time. I know you mentioned that even with the automatic feeder she is still waking you up, but the goal is to get her to settle at night. Another great way to get cats to settle is a heated cat bed that you only turn on at night.

Now comes the tough part. We know that more than food is motivating this. That means the attention you give her – even if to you it seems “negative” – is reinforcing the behavior. You have to completely ignore her nighttime behavior. COMPLETELY. If you break down after 2 hours or 2 days, you will have taught her that if she tries long and hard enough she will break you down (and yes, she will probably try even harder to get you up before she gives up).

I’m not opposed to giving her a room of her own at night for a few weeks to break the habit. If that is what it takes to stop you from waking up and responding to her nighttime activity, then that is a much better short-term solution that can lead to long-term behavior change. A piece of cardboard with double-sided carpet tape attached to the door as well as on the floor by the door is one way to stop cats from scratching on the door.

Sleep is really important to me so I completely empathize with your situation. Unfortunately, this is one behavior problem that requires as much human behavior change as kitty behavior change! The good news, is that if you stick with the program, she will stop keeping you awake!

The post Ask the Cat Behaviorist: Mikel Delgado Answers Questions About Cats Who Wake Up their Guardians, Aggressive Cats, Cats Who Bury Their Food, and More appeared first on The Conscious Cat.