#drip-feeding plot goblin

[whumpiary]

How did Harley die?

Oh!

Harley got in the way of something Cass wanted.

So Cass killed them.

[typinggently]

Save this ask for when you're in the mood (if ever), but I'm considering... Indulging in... Thinking of... the Clown Boys and the Goblin Market 👀 I feel like multiple people in this fandom have thought about scenarios that touch on something similar with, say, Ruby and Sam, and Dean having a different attitude towards demon blood... Or the episode My Bloody Valentine and the idea of unnatural craving... But I haven't seen anything that gets at the heart of the sensuality of the goblin fruits in the poem!

Because of Canon parallels I immediately want to think of Laura as Sam, our honorary Eve eating the fruit, and Dean being Lizzie, wiser about the tricks played by devils... but the opposite -- with Dean prey to his hedonistic appetites, having to feed off the juices smuggled by a more temperate/cunning Sam... Also good...👌

Babe when I tell you I’ve been thinking about this for days too……I’m so happy you brought it up and img your mind?!?!

Firstly, I have to admit that I have a notebook lying around somewhere with a draft called Midsummer’s Metamorphosis that centred around Dean eating Fae food and disappearing (and Sam looking for him and both of them losing their humanity over this etc etc). The plot of it was different but can I just say that there is SO MUCH to the idea of consumption of forbidden fruit. Absolutely obsessed with it. And I’m so happy your posts made me aware of Goblin Market because, as you said, the sensuality… unmatched!!!! Incredibly inspiring.

Also I love both of the options you present. (And this got a little long so I’ll add a read more..)

🌬🌙🍊���🍓🍯✨

“Our honorary Eve” — that got me, godddd. Sam is a character that relies so heavily on his rigorous self control and seeing that stripped away will never fail to just be utterly breathtaking. Plus, Dean in some way matches that innocent wisdom Lizzie has. They know about the taboos, but in some way they don’t understand the allure of that forbidden thing? Thus, it takes them both a moment to realise what’s happened to their sweet, curious sibling. Followed by that, Dean’s self-sacrificing nature. Whatever option we go with, be it actual goblin fruit juice clumping his lashes together or demon blood dripping from his chin, I can picture him so so well in that eat me drink me love me scene. The drawn brows, the lowered lashes, the soft mouth, letting Sam pull his hair, cradle his skull with those big hands of his, sucking, kissing the forbidden juices from him. So close, yet not quite… Dean is so good when he’s trembling with disappointed desire. (And Sam is so good when he lets loose, strong and desperate, devouring)

But also yes!!! The other way around, you are so right. We’ve seen Dean stubbornly and stoically wasting away in Faith, it fits those few days in their hut, one warbling for the mere bright day’s delight, one longing for the night. Trying to ignore that something is wrong to keep going, yet barely holding on. And Sam is willing to endure so much for Dean, turns into such a cool-cruel beast for him when he has to. I could see him with that determination, that cold little smile, dripping with juice and bruised like a peach, but not tempted, not driven by anything but thoughts of Dean. And then, Dean’s initial fear that Sam made the same mistake, but even that deeply ingrained worry and love and care being overridden with desire — flaring nostrils, feverish eyes. I really wonder how Sam would react to being sucked and kissed, though. Because I feel like he’d indulge Dean’s hunger for him with a smile that’s maybe just a little pleased with himself (I’m the sun that’s chained to your ankle, I can never leave but in turn I’m the centre of your universe), but in this particular case there’s a barrier there because Dean isn’t driven by hunger for HIM, you know? I feel like Dean in that position would be thrilled and trembling either way (because he is maybe more used to not thinking that he’s deserving of that kind of hunger, so he’ll take it either way), but is it enough for Sam?! Is it enough to carry the cure when you’re supposed to be the cure?

I’ve run myself into this corner where I think Dean would be delighted to get that almost-taste of something forbidden (mouth firmly closed so he tastes neither the fruit nor his brother’s tongue), but Sam — I’m not sure!! I keep thinking he’d be too jealous to enjoy himself? Or, naturally, too worried. If you have a solution to this…please tell me 😩

Either way. You know what would be absolutely showstopping? If this could’ve been their first kiss. Lizzie with both hands on Laura’s cheeks, “I was so worried about you”, etc, leaning in and they would, they would kiss, but they can’t, because Laura’s tongue is still drenched in juice and they can’t risk Lizzie tasting it so oh, they would’ve crossed that line. Silent understanding, they’ve would’ve. But they couldn’t. :V ahhh!!

[nearlynorth]

Day One: Sun/Moon

Baz Pitch is in love with the sun. But the sun is dangerous for those who inhabit the night. Get too close, and you're going to get burned. Which is entirely possible when you are near the Chosen One. So Baz pulls himself away, hiding under blankets of barbs and hatred.

Simon Snow is tired. He doesn't want to be the sun. The mage is sending him on all these missions and when he gets back to Mummers House, Baz is waiting with a sharp retort.

Simon Snow is so bright, and Baz Pitch is drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

_____

Simon

I stumble into our room and find Baz sitting upright on his bed. I could still smell the smoke around me from when I went off, and I'm sure that Bax could too.

"What made you go off this time, Snow?" Even his voice irritates me. It's so posh and smooth. The smirk on his face irritates me. It even translates to his words. You can practically hear it.

"Bloody goblins." I collapse onto my bed, not looking at him.

"You couldn't even fight bloody goblins. What kind of Chosen One are you?" He's mocking me. The smoky smell begins to cover his cedar-wood one and my vision grows hazy. Baz knows how to rile me up. He knows exactly what to say to make my start to go off. He makes my magic well up to the surface of my body, makes me feel like I'm going to explode.

I ignore him and push myself off my bed. I stomp over to my window and open it. Maybe I can finally be the one to irritate him.

Baz

He's beaten up again. Blood practically covers him, but it doesn't seem to bother him. I hate seeing Snow like this. His light is dim in moments like these. The smell of his magic is radiating off of him. I can tell that he already went off once today, and he is close to going off again. Because of me.

Cold air floods in through the window that he opened. He loves the cold. He generates so much heat that even with the window open he's warm. Like the sun, he gives off heat.

Whereas I am more like the moon. Heat only reaches me when it comes from him when he chooses to grace me with his warmth.

I taunt him with my words, hoping to get a reaction out of him, to distract myself from my incessant longing for him. It works. Smoke begins to fill the room. "If you go off now, I'll murder you." I snarl with my ever-present smirk in place.

"It's your fault!" Snow yells. His curls are flopping all over the place and his face is screwed up in anger. It hides all those beautiful moles of his. "You're always plotting! You're always messing with me!"

Just as the sun lets off energy-charged particles, Snow's magic fills the room. It warms me up. and makes blood rush to my cheeks. While he had been away I had been to the catacombs to feed. He was lucky that I had. There was so much blood on him that I doubt that I would be able to resist if I didn't have a full stomach. I never want to bite a human. My mother would hate me. Natasha Grimm-Pitch hated vampires. She would have killed me if she knew what I am now.

I scoff in his face. "I'm not plotting."

Simon

He raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me. I can see a light dusting of color present on his face, which must mean that he fed recently. One less thing that I have to worry about.

I stammer in response to him. I'm not good with words, I never have been. And around Baz, my words all go out the window. My magic clogs my throat and makes it hard to get words out. When they do come out, they are never right.

"Snow, go take a shower. You're dripping all over the floor." Baz tells me, his clipped words coming out perfectly.

I look down and see that he is right. I hate it when he is right. I'm standing in a pool of goblin blood. There is blood on my bed too. "Bloody goblins!" I say again before stomping over to the bathroom and slamming the door behind me.

Baz

I roll my eyes as he slams the door. And Snow says that I'm the dramatic one. I hear the water turn on and the smell of blood slowly diminishes. His magic calms down too, now that he's away from me.

I hate the fact that I can't be his friend. His boyfriend. But he's the Chosen One, and I'm Baz Pitch, his enemy.

In the galaxy, he's the sun. And I'm the moon. I leech light off of him to give myself warmth. I don't have any light of my own. Simon Snow is the light in my dark days, the warmth when I'm freezing. Crowley, he doesn't know how much I want to kiss him. And he never will.

[dlamp-dictator]

Allen’s Rambles about Magical Girl Spec Ops

Well folks, since the second half of MGRP: Limited isn’t going to come out for likely another 4 months I’ll have to talk about different Edgy Magical Girl series for awhile. Thankfully, I’ve been reading for a while that’s finally got enough material for me to talk about, Magical Girl Spec Ops -Asuka-, or MGSO as I’m going to be calling it. I was originally going to talk about this one in another Seinen Adventure, but... I won’t have enough material for that part of my blog for at least another few months, and I want to talk about this manga now before the anime of it comes out in a few weeks.

But moving on, MGSO is about Asuka Otori, a retired magical girl that fought in a war against the Disas Beasts three years before the story the begins. She’s in high school now and wishes to just live a normal life after the horrors of war she saw during the Disas War.

As for why such a war was trauma... well, the the Disas Beasts in question are basically...

This... So I think the horrors of a war with them explains itself. They also explain how Magical Girls and magical items are used as tools of wars, some stuff about global politics, things like that. 

Eventually, Asuka is forced back onto the frontlines as Magical Girls and magical world items start to be traded around by criminal organizations and terrorist groups around the world, with said groups finally coming to Japan. And... 

Well, that’s the main reason I’ve been hesitating on writing about this series for so long folks. There’s only 4 volumes of the manga out as of the time I’m writing this. Through those 4 volumes have so far shown us how the world works now that Magical Girls are essential super soldiers working for their countries with all the political nonsense that goes with it, but that’s all it’s done.There’s an overarching plot of the Disas Beasts being artificially made and sold by a secret organization called the Babel Brigade that’s been drip-fed to us, but there’s not enough concrete stuff about them to say what their main goal is, nor the big players within it. I really wouldn’t expect much in terms of actual plot development until the next volume coming out in late January. So far it’s just been Call of Duty: Black Ops featuring Magical Girls.

That said, this series has gripped me with what it’s shown. I was originally going to have those plus sides in paragraph form, but... again, with no streamlined plot as of yet and not enough information on anyone aside from Asuka to talk about, I’ll just stick it all in list form. There will be some spoilers ahead, but I’ll try and keep them brief and vague.

Asuka is treated less as a traditional magical girl and more as a soldier coming back to service after a big war and I love that. She even has some PTSD flashbacks at times that make her want to back out of most military operations, but trudges on for the sake of her friends and former teammates. Her struggle to keep a normal life while doing secret military operations and the mental toll it takes on her just makes me want her to succeed even more.

As for as much as politics move the plot and the girls we’re thankfully not subjected to seeing a bunch of suits sitting in a room and debating politics. There’s enough of a political aspect is there enough to show that these girls and these soldiers are political tools, but not so much that there’s more talking than shooting. 

The fact that all of Asuka’s original squad was ethnically diverse was a pleasant surprise, with the main group of survivors being her, a former classmate of hers, an American, a Russian, and... a Hong Kong magical girl. Among the original girl there was also a French and Mexican magical too, but going any further is spoiler territory. 

Yes, the American and Russian magical girls are petty as hell with each other and it’s hilarious.

“Yo, Russkie!” 

“Long time no see, Yankee. Are you still hotheaded and stupid as always?”  

“Oh, says you! Your cold-fish robot vibe hasn’t changed one bit.” 

This is my favorite exchange in the manga yet.

The side characters are pretty good as well. Asuka’s non-magical girl friends provide some levity to the tenser moments, and you really feel worried for their safety when Asuka’s soldier life intertwines and interferes with her student life and puts her friends in danger. That balance between the two feels a lot more serious than most magical girl series.

I’m also excited to see the newest magical girl villian, Chisato. Her rise to villainy makes her pretty sympathetic to me. She chose to work for the bad guys, but let out of spite and more to show appreciation for how they helped her despite their evil deeds.

There are some other points I found interesting as well, but those would really spoiler the series. Overall, I’m excited to read more of this manga in the coming weeks, and for the anime that’ll be coming out soon, but like usual I’ll probably stick with the manga unless some cool fight scenes get animated.

Actually... I think I’ll explain this now since it’s second time I’ve done something like this and for the same reason I didn’t watch the Goblin Slayer anime.

I’ve said this several times before, but for me, between my Ramblings, my digital drawings, my video game habits, I frankly stare at enough screens in my day. I like to use manga and books as a way to give my eyes a break from all the lights. I usually don’t watch anime adaptations of manga I’m actively reading because I already know what happens, and I already have certain expectations of how certain characters sound and deliver lines. Even the Japanese dub tends to irk me at times when something isn’t what I expected, and I don’t want to turn into a venomous fanboy constantly making comparisons between the two sources. I don’t think it’s good to compare an adaptation to the original too heavily, and when I’m so invested in a series both emotionally and financially I tend to get a little... rabid. Besides, as I said before the real plot of the manga with the Babel Brigade hasn’t kicked off yet, and I don’t want to be spoiled on that by the anime, so I’ll wait a few months after the winter season ends to binge it. I know that sounds a bit arrogant, but in this way I won’t start whining about every little difference like a fanboy, so... make of that what you will.

In any case, I think that’s it for this Rambling. Still not up to my preference in terms of quality, but MGSO is still drip-feeding it’s main plot, so maybe my next essay will be better. I’ve got... some plans for these next few essays.

[azwoodbomb]

A Goblin Odyssey, or “Collected Sayings of the Furious Small”

She is young, barely able to speak, incapable of feeding herself. Not that many are, at the moment. The tribe is starving, and the chieftain has gathered everyone in the largest cavern, to behold the shaman consulting the bones. He hefts aloft a large skull and with some effort sets it sailing through the air. It soars across the room before landing with a crack. The chieftain looks from it to the shaman, who holds his gaze hesitantly before coughing, squeezing his eyes shut and humming deeply out of tune, then hastily picking up a femur. It too sails through the air, twirling gently in space before ending in the firm grasp of an angry looking goblin in his prime. The bone swishes in his hand, cracks against the chieftain’s skull, swishes and cracks, swishes and cracks. When it has been dyed red the whole tribe screams in exultation. The old ways die that new ones may rise, says new chieftain Gorr the Bone.

Soon the tribe is moving, through mountain and mire, forest and fen. She learns to forage for herself, barely surviving on a diet of bark, berries, bugs and bird’s eggs. The old drop in droves, even the shaman, and the chieftain nods sagely, repeating his motto. But one day a pack of four-legged beasts many times larger than a goblin attack, tearing the chieftain’s throat out, impervious to the blows of his mighty bone. The tribe scatters in terror, the creatures hunting them at will for days. But after the growth of a full moon a new chieftain emerges, sitting triumphant atop one of the beasts. Live fast, die young, says Rakk the Fang.

In the mountains the tribe runs into a row of huge carts on wheels manned by creatures three times the size of a goblin, drawn by beasts even larger than the tribe’s ravenous steeds. The chieftain and his warriors charge fearlessly into the fray but the strangers raise their weapons in response, letting loose a volley even faster than their newfound speed. The chieftain’s skull is pierced like a melon, and soon the tribe is in full retreat. For two days and nights the caravan pushes on, driving the tribe before them with a lazy supremacy that claims dozens. On the third night a new chieftain appears before the tribe, the loudest human’s head hanging from his belt, the knives of his followers all dripping. The unseen blade is the sharpest and the first cut always the deepest, says Feda the Keen.

It is a smaller, stronger tribe that finishes this perilous journey. She is still young, but a helpless runt no longer. Their new cave is not completely unoccupied, and is soon damp with blood on top of water. As the older goblins cut up and gnash away at the eight legged bodies she nibbles on huge eggs, hunger and revulsion fighting for control of her mind.

“Tastes pretty gross.”

One of the older goblins laughs. “Any port in a storm, kid.”

“What’s a port?”

He ponders this a moment. “A forest where naked trees float for shelter.”

“Are they safe there?”

He nods like a shaman. “Very. They eat easy prey off the shoreline and push pleasantly at one another, wagging happy on the waves.”

After the tribe has fully conquered this new home, life settles into a routine of running, fighting and eating. New wolves are found and tamed at the expense of a few limbs and lives, the land is scouted and foraged, raids are conducted and the young ones go out exploring. She is no different, but what she finds is.

She stumbles onto a small plot with vegetables growing in orderly squares near a circular wall of stones with holes in it and thatch on top, smoke sneaking up to the sky. She watches from afar as a group of people about her size flit about, hacking and prodding at the earth, jumping and laughing, singing strange songs. She stares mesmerized until a scream breaks her out of her reverie. One of their young is running away from her as fast as his legs will pull him. Before retreating she picks up  a shiny little ball left in his wake.

She doesn’t sleep next morning, her eyes transfixed on the shiny bauble, her mind on the happy people. Before she knows it she’s back, watching them carefully. For months she watches, occasionally stealing a vegetable or a trinket, sometimes leaving dry twigs or pretty rocks in return. As the other young goblins earn themselves names like Foot the Fist, Tarr the Tooth and Ass the Large, she remains nameless, barely scraping by physically but slowly coming to understand the strange chirping ways of the happy people.

They talk about everything and nothing, much like her tribe, but they never really fight and none of them seem to die. They speak of loves and loss, nagging neighbours who could make paint peel, journeys through thick and thin with strangers turned friends, of wild-eyed wizards who turn their enemies into toads and their friends into something worse. Occasionally their conversation turns to her, and it seems most of them think her gifts and thefts are a welcome mystery to break up the day. Theories about her nature abound, their guesses ranging from fairy to firbolg, ghosts to a gentleman with deviant tastes. Only the youngest never changes his mind, firmly insisting they’re haunted by a hideous monster. She ponders this the next time she’s about to drink, carefully scrutinizing her scrunched face, large ears and jagged teeth in the puddle. She thinks she’s rather pretty.

It turns out the tribe is growing impatient of her anonymity. Late one evening as she watches she’s startled by a gnarled hand on her shoulder. Feda himself is grinning in her face, congratulating her on this find. Before she knows what’s happening they’re moving. She seizes up as the fighters swarm down toward the farmhouse, watches from afar as they break down the door, hears as through a haze the screaming.

Soon after silence falls Feda runs back to her with a bottle in hand, laughing to himself as he tells her the name she’s earned. He drags her through the doorway and the fighters stop carving up the happy people to laughingly greet Nott the Brave. Feda takes a swig before handing her the bottle, which she empties into her gullet. It burns her throat on the way down, even more so on the way up. As she falls to her knees heaving, Nott finds herself staring at her own scrunched face, large ears and jagged teeth in a surface clearer than any puddle. She spews once more and the image is banished in bile.

[slightlyhighkey]

Below the cut, a long ass back story nobody wanted to hear

Aoife Valnora is the second eldest child of a family of Norlenders. Their home is on a set plot of land just a small distance away from the kingdom of Narfareth, on a popular travel route. There the Valnora's ran a farm with a small amount of animals used mostly for the trade goods they could provide and the food they could produce. Only when they outlived their use were they killed for their meat.

Living in this area life is tough from the beginning. A lot of the families around here are self sufficient, which means they have to be able to work together to some extent. Aoife started helping around the farm when she was very young, probably around six. Her chores were simple things like feeding chickens at first but as she grew so did her responsibilities. Mostly they leaned towards animal care, as she seemed to have an affinity for them.

Since they were already quite a distance from town her experience with other people was limited to travelers and passerbys. Oftentimes they'd spend a night on the farm if the inns were full, and it was this way she became educated in the world south of them. They showed her maps and told her stories. It made her curious and sparked a desire to travel in her that she didn't acknowledge until later in life.

When she was eleven her father and elder brother started teaching her how to use a bow to keep foxes out of the chicken coop and the like. She was a natural, and soon her game grew bigger. While her younger siblings (there was a pair of twins, four years younger than her) and her mother took care of the house she spent her time in the fields and the forests, tracking and taking down game to feed and trade. It wasn't much longer until she was spending more time with their livestock or in the woods than with her own family.

On one night in the depths of winter when game was already scarce, she came across a wolf in their fields after one of their sheep. The dogs had proven great adversaries for it however and they managed to chase it off, but not without a casualty. It was injured and dripping blood so tracking it wasn't too difficult. Just a little ways off of their farm she found it to have died just outside of a tree stump.

What was in the stump changed her life as she found a pup, just a little over two weeks old. Her heart broke when she realized it would die and she ended up bringing it back home with her. Her mother was instantly against the small defenseless thing and it strained there relationship. It wasn't as if the whole household was against him but even the smallest doubt had settled into their home. She shirked her responsibilities in order to make sure he was fed and getting all the care she'd seen their dogs show their young.

With the constant attention he grew quickly. By the time she was fifteen he was strong enough to help her track wild animals and he was almost behaved enough to help with the herding. Her family didn't seem to trust him though, and when a wild animals got into the chicken coop leaving very little survivors they accused it of being him. In order to avoid him being killed, which was a large fear of hers, she left in the dark of the night. As far as she's concerned the rest of her family still lives there but she's never written them to check.

And so she set off down the road on what would be a harrowing adventure. Travelers had told her about schools in the south where they would teach you skills that she couldn't learn on the farm, so in a way she was looking for knowledge. She took very little other than Eoghan, some food, and the clothes on her back when she left. Along the way to town she hunted and skinned things to trade their furs for some bedding and camping supplies. It was her first time leaving the farm on her own, and it was terrifying.

The trading was rough in the beginning. Looking back she was definitely swindled for a lot less than she could get for what she gave. These formative months of travel are foggy in her memory. A lot of it was on her own until she started to hit the larger communities, and then the language barrier was somewhat of a hassle.

During this time a horde of goblins had found her on a path on her own and mugged her, making it that much harder of a start.They didn't leave her out of commission but she did decide to take some time to improve her lifestyle. She'd been selling maps for awhile but began making them more detailed, surveying areas closely and almost always taking another person with her.

Around half a year on her own she found a group, one of them having been from her hometown of Norlend. They seemed to be heading towards a dangerous area to find someone and didn't quite want to travel on their own. Taking pity, they took Aoife with them. During this adventure into the woods they helped her with the language and better items to bring around. Still, she couldn't quite shake the need to carry a little too much food with her. Probably for Eoghans sake more than hers.

They traveled together for sometime, finding their skills to compliment each others. Having others' around was definitely nice and she grew pretty fond of them. However the desire to try one of the schools she'd heard about won out over their travels and they parted ways. Her closest friend in this group gave her a new bow, commenting that her own seemed worn and they wanted her to have it.

It's still one of her prized objects, having survived the tragedies the coming years would bring.

She dropped out of school almost immediately, finding it to be a terrible time an preferring it to be outdoors. Following suit she took up residence in the town of Sern, offering tours throughout the city and her assistance on small missions. Normally with bounty hunters since Eoghan excels at tracking people and they're people a little less off put by the wolf.

Still young and still naive, but a little more experienced in the world she lived this life for quite some time. Sometime, she couldn't tell you when, she made friends with some others' who spent their time chasing down criminals. They spent time together in and out of errands and some sense of family was brought back into her life. They filled a part that she forget was empty.

So she trusted them. Even when a message was delivered to her that was a little off asking to meet, she went alone anyways. Arriving at the location outside of the town however, it was clear that this was a mistake. Laying on the ground were the bodies of her friends, most of them already passed on. Immediately she fled to the side of someone she considered dear to her only to find a knife in her stomach. The man mentioned this fulfilling a deal, a bargain, and even as they twisted the blade inside her a bit of regret tinted their expression.

They made a mistake however. Without waiting to see if she was actually dead, they left. Theoretically to meet whatever they made the bargain with, but Aoife can't confirm this. Eoghan managed to help her get back to the town they were staying in and she promptly passed out. It's all a blur. The recovery, the reports being made. If it wasn't for the innkeeper who let her stay there for essentially free she probably wouldn't have made it.

Afterwards she payed him back of course. Mostly in work and errands, but in gold as he helped her get jobs. Her reputation as a bounty hunter spread throughout the area and essentially that's how she survived the past few years. In her heart she knows her friends gone, but he took something important from her. She can't get it back but revenge is definitely something on the backburner of her mind.

[whumpiary]

I was going through all the cass posts and couldn’t find anything on chook other than he terrifies cassius. What has he done to him/ who is he?

Yeahhhhh Chook is something I’ve def been keeping close to my chest because I’ve been wanting to reveal the details in a couple of different drabbles I’ve been working on, but it’s been like two months and they’re just. not. cooperating.

So in lieu of that, here is a collection of lil hints I’ve given throughout stuff I HAVE written:

Christopher has multiple charges living on his estate

There is canonically a method of transferring physical sensation and injury from one person to another (which, to be fair, if you’ve only read cass’ stuff you. may not actually know about)

Most of Christopher’s charges seem to have preternatural abilities. Cassius, specifically has a version of mind control

Isn’t it funny that a guy who can canonically make anyone do pretty much anything he wants is somehow still captive to people he hates?

Cassius has (or, at least, had) a brother

Anyways what I’m saying here is ask not what Chook has done to Cassius, but what Cassius has done to Chook

[whumpiary]

I'm not sure were the bergan estate timeline was? like what happened there? I don't understand how cass came to be there or what he was doing and his propose there? I'm just a dumbass child so can u explain a bit??

Oh no no! You are not a dumbass child! I’m just a horrible little goblin man who drip feeds her readers story points and hoards the rest instead of just writing them out like a normal writer! It makes sense that you’re confused.

My writing is just… A Mess. The timeline post is just to give y'all SOME kind of hope of understanding everything that’s all mixed in my brain because there is SO much and I have No idea how to write it.

All the stuff that happens during the Bergen Estate timeline is set before the Facility, and before Cass meets Josiah (or Lou or Tucker, etc etc). It’s Cassius backstory that I got way too invested in.

It’s also like… Kind of dependent on world building stuff that is still kind of gelatinous in my brain but I’ve started sharing more of it the more solid I get on it all. I struggle to write actual world-building and #lore into my drabbles and tbh since deciding a lot of the Bergen Estate details I’ve been in a Huge publishing rut

BUT IM ALWAYS A SLUT FOR AN INFO DUMP SO STRAP THE FUck IN

Bergen Estate is owned by Christopher Bergen, a billionaire mogul who’s best known for his extensive philanthropy and charity work, and Cassius’ first major whumper. It’s essentially just a big ass fucking mansion on a huge slap of land where Christopher lives. The estate is extensively staffed, and also houses a number of at-risk young people who are a part of Christopher’s charity outreach and rehabilitation program. 

The outreach of the program is massive. Christopher only houses 38 charges at Bergen Estate, but there are thousands of people throughout the country in one of his group homes and boarding schools.

The young people who go through the program are colloquially known as Bergen Boys, although that’s a term the foundation itself tries to formally keep distance from (privately,,,,,, Christopher quite likes the term). The program has the reputation of boy scouts meets finishing school, and, formally, it’s not unlike that. It’s a really thorough rehabilitation program that really genuinely facilitates juvenile delinquents, hard to home foster kids, and other at risk youths and then offers them counselling, education, and support to make them employable, functional, constructive members of society. 

The program also takes incarcerated youth under wing by taking full legal responsibility for their actions through an indenture arrangement. All of the graduates leave the program by the age of 25 and are known for being exceedingly polite, well educated, and multi skilled. Most leave multilingual and with a bachelor’s degree in their ~delegated~ chosen field. 

The thing is. 

That’s all the public really knows.

Christopher Bergen is charismatic and charming and very Open™ about the program and his estate. He regularly talks about it in interviews, and there are some relatively well known ex-Bergen Boys who also talk about the program favourably. But nobody actually knows what goes on there. They just know Bad Young People go in and Well Adjusted Adults come out. Nobody really thinks about it beyond that. Nobody really thinks about the ones that go missing, or that quietly and seamlessly end up back in the judicial system, or that just… seem to stay under 25 for a really really long time. 

Those staying at Bergen Estate are believed by the public to be individuals of particularly high risk or dangerous behaviours, who need additional support for success back in the real world. Kids on trial for murder, those exhibiting of particularly dangerous repeated behaviours, that sort of thing. The truth of it is these are just the people that Christopher has taken a particular specific liking to or interest in. 

In this ‘verse, a number of people ( the “evolutionarily advanced”) have telepathy-adjacent powers that they can use to varying levels of success. Often, the kids that end up at Bergen Estate just so happen to have these abilities, or at least seem to develop them after a few months. It’s not a hard-and-fast rule that those at the estate will have powers, it just seems to be a high correlation. 

Christopher is a combo of pretty common whumper tropes. He’s a collector. He likes pretty things. He likes unusual things. And he likes to be loved. The Bergen Foundation and the good reputation it gives means he can have those things on a large scale. But Bergen Estate means he can have them intimately. Christopher gets what he wants. But he’s a good person and he’ll go about getting them in the right way. Eye for an eye for an eye for an eye if he has to.

As for Cass.

Cass wasn’t particularly special, compared to any of the other charges at Christopher’s estate. He did something wrong, then he did something right, then he caught the attention of Christopher.

Surprising approximately no one, Cass had a rough upbringing. He was in and out of juvie from quite a young age, and soon enough had captured the attention of Bergen Foundation staff. He was bright enough, charming when he wanted to be, and the perfect candidate for a success story down the track.

Unfortunately for them, they pretty quickly realised he wouldn’t be a success story. Unfortunately for Cass, Christopher had already taken an interest in the boy in his program who could seemingly get whatever he wanted from whoever he wanted but still hadn’t run away.

At 16 he received a personal visit from Christopher, who gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse and legal proceedings immediately went underway to transfer Cassius’ sentence to the Estate. The rest, as they say, is trauma.

As for his purpose there…occasionally Christopher used Cass the way Tucker does, to sway business deals and woo clients and friends in whatever way Christopher wanted, but frankly Christopher doesn’t need a whole lot of help with business. So mostly, he was just there to give Christopher whatever he wanted. Because Christopher decided he liked him. Simple as that.

[whumpiary]

Cass, henri, apologize

this request is from july and i for one think it’s very sexy of me to still fill it.

this is set many moons ago. before the facility, before christopher, before things went to shit. cass is about 14ish and henri is 16ish. please go carefully.

[content warning: whump of a minor (by another minor), sibling abuse/family violence, referenced mind control, magical whump]

-

Henri’s hand is tangled in Cass’ hair, tugging with enough force that Cass is all but tripping over his feet to keep up until he's thrown against the brick wall behind the milkbar.

“Get off”

“Say sorry you little shit."

“No. I didn't do anything.”

“Yes you did. Apologise.”

“Fuck off."

“Say. Sorry.”

“Hᴇɴʀɪ, ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ɢᴏ.”

The hand leaves his hair in an instant and just as fast is walloping him across the face in a crude backhand.

“Keep my name out of your fucking mouth,” Henri spits.

“Keep your hands off me and I might.”

“Nah,” Henri laughs, “No way. You don’t get to pull that card with me right now. Apologise.”

“I didn’t do anything wr-”

Henri cuffs him around the ear again before he can even get the sentence out.

“Yes you did, and you fucking know it so don’t play with me,” he says, ducking his head to look Cass square in the eye. “You stole shit. That's wrong. No arguments.”

“It’s not stealing if they give it to you.”

“It’s not giving if you force them.”

“I didn’t force anyone, I just asked.”

Henri drops him all at once and Cass crumples to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, landing awkwardly on his ankle. Cass swears under his breath and picks himself back up to a crouch, back pressed against the brick wall.

“You just asked, huh?”

Cass glares up at his brother and rubs at his ankle. “Yes.”

“Same way you asked that kid to jump down the stairs last week?”

Cass looks away.

“You promised me you wouldn’t do this shit anymore, Cass.”

“They don’t even notice, why does it matter?”

“You can’t just do what you want to other people because you can.”

“Why the hell not?” Cass groans. “What’s the point of being able to do something if you can’t actually do it?”

Henri backs up, looking down at him and Cass glances up just in time to watch as his brother cocks his head to the side, a little smile on his face. “You really wanna play that game with me?”

Cass feels fear curl low in his gut. He knows what’s coming even before his vision starts to swim, before the pressure behind his eyes starts to build.

“Stop it,” he grits out through clenched teeth, the headache starting to set in in a mindless pulse as Henri fixes his attention.

"I'm not doing anything," his brother says with a dead eyed shrug.

Cass blinks, rubs a hand over his eyes. "You're hurting me.”

Henri crosses his arms with a little smirk, and then paints on mocking confusion. “How can I be hurting you? I’m not even touching you.”

“You know wh-” Cass has to steady himself as the world tilts, and he gasps, hand splaying against the bricks. “Stop it.”

“Why?” Henri says with a smile. “I can do it and you can’t stop me. That means I should get to, right?”

“Alright, I get it. Stop.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Spider man rules, remember, dipshit? Great power comes great responsibility.”

“I know, I fuckin’ know-”

“Say sorry for being a little shit.”

“Fuck you.”

The pain turns up. 

“Get out,” Cass spits, eyes squeezing  shut against the light, suddenly like knives in his eyes. “Get out of my head.”

“No. Apologise.”

“I will, I get it, just stop.”

"Nah, you broke your promise, Cass," his brother says, crouching low in front of him. "You broke the rules. So you gotta apologise. Right?"

“Yes. Okay, yes.”

“So whaddya say, dipshit?”

“Henr-”

“Don’t say my fucking name,” Henri growls. Fury and rage.

Somehow, someway, the pain gets worse. Cass cries out. He feels like his head might split in two. Like maybe it already is. Like if he lets go it’s going to fall apart and his brain will leak out on the dirt and mingle with patchy grass and dandelions.

“Apologise.”

"M'sorry."

“What was that?”

“Sorry!”

"Like you mean it now."

Cass squeezes his eyes shut, fingers lacing in his hair as he presses the heels of his hands against his eyes desperately.

"Stop, I'm sorry." he says. He doesn’t know how to beg. If he could, he would. "I said I'm sorry."

Henri doesn’t let up. The black behind Cass’ eyes is spinning. It’s spinning, he swears it, blood rushing in his ears, pain so sharp he can’t-

“Chook, pleas-” Cass lurches to the side, a hand pressed to the brick behind his head and hurls up his guts, vision spinning, head pounding, he heaves once, and then twice.

All at once the pain recedes and the world spins.

“M’sorry…” Cass mutters, bile still dripping from his lips. His body lurches again, trying to force out what’s not there and he gags. Cass looks up at his brother, tears streaking down his face. “M’s-sorry.”

Henri is standing up again, towering over him, eyes wide and a little panicked, as though spooked. If Cass didn’t know better he’d almost say his brother looks apologetic. Remorseful.

Before he scoffs that is. “Right. Don't do it again.”

[whumpiary]

[content warning: death mention, alcohol use]

prompt fill for #100 from this prompt list for @circehelios

-

Tucker braces himself for the cool sting of night air as he pushes open the doorway to the rooftop of the Facility building.

It's a clear, cold night. Cold enough for it to feel like there should be rain on the way but the sky is clear of clouds, mostly. Just stars shining like knife points alongside a half moon.

Ace is sitting on some metal box by the edge of the roof. Full of electrical wiring or a cooling unit or whatever the fuck. Tucker had never bothered to learn. He has his knees pulled up towards his chest, one hand gripping the opposite wrist as he stares forward and he doesn't turn to look at his minder as Tucker closes the gap between them.

"How'd you know where to find me?"

"I just followed the scent of melancholy brooding," Tucker says, sitting himself down next to the younger man.

"If you think I'm coming down-"

"Cool it, Ace, I'm not here to fetch you. Let's call it a truce for tonight"

Cass does look at him then, a long, slow raking off the eyes as he makes his assessment. He comes to some silent conclusion and turns back out to face the city.

The wind is cool but not biting. More of a shift of air around them, moving through clothing. Some of it picks up long strands of Ace's hair and whips it around his cheeks. He doesn't seem to care. He just sits, frowning deeply out at the city lights, almost unnaturally still.

"Do you know what day it is?" he asks after a few minutes.

Tucker places the two glasses he'd brought up with him on the space between them. "I'd never forget our anniversary, Ace"

Ace turns to look at him with a dulled sort of smile before looking back out over the city below. Tucker reaches into his coat pocket, pulls out a small bottle to pour between them. Cass’ face sours as he looks at the label.

“Not really in a gin mood”

“Ah,” Tucker says, with a wry smile. He produces a second, much larger bottle of darker liquor and offers it out. It’s a cheap, crappy drop of whiskey. The kind Tucker secretly enjoys when he isn’t trying to be impressive and Cass was known to reach for on bad nights. Ace frowns, eyes flicking up to his minder’s face with questioning suspicion. Tucker just shrugs “I pay attention”

Cass grins a little, looking down. There's still something deeper swimming behind his eyes but there was always going to be today. He snatches the bottle and pours them each a generous few fingers before taking a swig and handing it back.

"Thanks, fuckhead,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

That's right, you little shit. Stop wallowing. Come back down to earth.

Both men take their drinks, eyes out at the skyline as a plane crosses overhead, bass note rumble paired with high frequency whining as it passes, invisible against the sky but for the red blinking light.

"Our, uh… anniversary," Ace says, after a beat. "That's not why I'm up here"

"I know that too," Tucker says. He takes another sip of his drink, waits for Cass to fill the silence. When he doesn't Tucker adds, "Do you want to talk about him?"

"Not really."

"That's fine."

Cass scoffs and Tucker can practically hear what he's thinking. Yeah I know it's fine, asshole.

The quiet wraps around them again and so does the wind. In the distance somewhere, a car honks. A few bats fly overhead, wings like sails whipping.

"Do you want to hear something funny?" Tucker says after a few minutes.

"Not really in the mood for funny."

"That's okay, it's not that funny."

He waits.

"Go on, then"

Tucker hesitates, drink halfway to his lips, finger tapping on the glass. He considers shifting what he's about to say before committing to a half truth, "It's my brother’s birthday tomorrow"

Cass turns and looks at him, "You never told me you had a brother”

“In my defense, you've never asked,” he says, and takes another slow sip of his drink as he looks out. Another moment of quiet. The sound of wind trying to force its way through skyscrapers, and moaning about having to go around instead.

“So are you twins or did you just lie about your date of birth on your license?"

Tucker turns and looks at the man next to him. A little bit surprised. A little bit impressed. Ace just shrugs, holds his gaze with a cocky smile, "I pay attention"

Tucker snorts a laugh, nursing his drink. "Would you believe my parents were just really good planners?”

Cass laughs at that, just a quiet back of the throat thing, and it melts the air around him just a little.

"Jesus, two Tucker's, huh?" he says "Dreams really do come true."

"Oh, I wouldn't get too excited. We're not exactly alike."

Cass tilts his head to the side with a grin, swings a leg up on the cooling box so he’s facing his minder. He’s grabbed at the easy distraction with two hands and is clearly ready to make it last, “Is that your way of tellin’ me you’re the evil twin?”

“Maybe.”

Cass narrows his eyes, looking him over. Tucker simply stares forward and enjoys his drink. If Ace wanted to fish, he’d have to find bait.

“Do you see him much?”

“No," Tucker says, with a bemused little smile “Never.”

“Okay this isn’t just some sick joke, or something is it? You didn’t eat him in the womb?”

Tucker laughs, looking down at his drink. God. He wished.

“No, nothing like that. He just…” Tucker pauses, makes a little clicking sound with his tongue as he casts a deliberately slow look over Cassius “Doesn’t exactly approve of what I do for work.”

Ace quirks a brow, “What? He didn't support the foray into human experimentation and mild trafficking?”

“Watch it,” Tucker mutters, but there’s humour in his voice. “But yes… something like that”

Cass nods slowly, then turns to sit forward again.

“Did you ever actually meet him?”

Tucker tosses him a shit-eating grin, “Who, my brother?”

“No, shithead,” Cass says, bumping shoulders playfully and then sobering a little too quick. “Mine.”

“Once," Tucker says, then hesitates. "Well, more than once but once when he wasn't-" he makes a vague gesture towards his head "-you know."

"Yeah," Ace snorts, staring straight ahead, voice bitter, "I know."

"It’s how I knew I wanted you, actually,” he admits, taking another sip of his drink.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

Hmm. Maybe shouldn’t have let that one slip. Tucker thinks about sunken cheeks and dull, desperate eyes. A sardonic smile. Trust me. I’m not the brother you want.

“Well, you know,” he shrugs “I just figured… if the older brother was impressive enough that Christopher made me haggle over him, then I definitely needed to see the little brother the big man wouldn’t let me see.”

Cassius’ foot has begun bouncing, subconsciously. The tapping of the rubber sole of his shoe on the side of the cooling box sounds like distant, distant thunder.

“You woulda liked him,” Cass says. His voice is hoarse enough with something like grief that he has to clear his throat before speaking again. He downs the rest of his drink. “He was an asshole. You woulda fuckin’ loved him”

Tucker breathes a laugh, “I bet.”

These nights between them are rare. Quiet and just a little morose. Something shared but un-sinister. No violence, no fists, no games. Just an ill-fitting sort of companionship. Not forever. Just for now. A bridge across the chasm of a rough night.

For the second time in his life, sitting here in the dark with Cassius Drake, the city a dark expanse beneath their feet, Tucker James feels like the opposite side of a coin he doesn’t particularly care to be on.

He opens the bottle back up, tops up both their glasses in silence.

“Well, happy birthday I guess,” Ace says, raising his glass towards the blonde man. Tucker tilts his own glass forward until the rims connect with a little clink.

“Happy your-brother-died-day.”

Cass snorts a bitter laugh and lifts his drink to the sky, “And to all a good fucking night.”

Below them, the city churns on.

[whumpiary]

69 for Cass please?

69. “Don’t worry, you’ve got me to take care of you.”

They're in a motel room.

Josiah knows that at least.

They're in a motel room with an old grey TV that they haven't turned on.

Two single beds with those sheets with the swirling vomit-green pattern that every cheap temporary place to crash seems to have.

Maybe it's not a motel, then. Maybe a cabin at a caravan park.

And he's scared. He knows that too.

Every time he tries to remember what happened his mind freezes like steel on ice. His own thoughts turn back on him like knives and then they're stabbing through his head and the mark on the back of his neck is burning and he starts drowning all over again.

And Cass is there. Rubbing circles on his back, a firm hand on his shoulder and it feels wrong. It feels so, so wrong.

"We have to go back," Josiah says, pushing up to stand. It's one of those split apart moments where he's equal parts not sure why he's said it and absolutely certain that it's true "We can't stay here, Cass. We have to go back"

"No, no, no, no," Cass says, frantic, turning Josiah's body so he's tilted to face him "No, we can't go back. We can't, okay? You're, you're just confused right now. We can't go back"

"No I have to go back," he says again, even though his eyes are swimming, even though his head is full of mud "I have to... I have to find Ellie"

"No, no you don't. We have to stay here, remember?"

"No," Josiah frowns. No he doesn't remember. No they don't have to stay, shouldn't be staying "No, Ellie's gonna be so upset... She gets. She gets nervous, Cass"

"Sᴛᴏᴘ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ, then," something hungry and calculating in Cass' face. When did he start looking like something to be afraid of? "You... ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ ʜᴇʀᴇ. You're just not thinking right. Your head's not right"

And Josiah can't argue with that. He can't argue even though it feels wrong. But he has to... No he has to do something. Something went wrong. He knows that much. He can't remember.

But before he can move-

"Sᴛᴀʏ ���ɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ"

-he's changing his mind again.

"Jᴜsᴛ ʟɪᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ. Wᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴛᴠ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ"

So he's lying down again. Turning his eyes to the telly even though he doubts it's gonna play anything but static. But no that was stupid. Cass says they were gonna watch something. So they would.

"I know you're scared. I know. I know," Cass sounds scared too, kind of. Maybe he's just projecting. Ellie always says that. That he's projecting "But just... ᴛʀᴜsᴛ ᴍᴇ, okay? It'll be fine"

It would be. It will be.

"I know things are kinda fucked but ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ-"

He's not worried. Why would he be worried?

"-You've got me to take care of you"

[whumpiary]

Hold on, are Tucker and Mal brothers?

uhhhhhh.....*checks notes*

“[Mal] puts on a pair of blue-rimmed glasses, smiles like this is the only thing he’d prefer to do right now”; “a man with long blonde hair and a neatly trimmed beard” (x)

“Tucker smiles, eyes cold and sharp behind his glasses”; “He pushes short blonde hair back” (x)

-

“Mᴀʟᴏʀʏ, ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ”

But Mal doesn’t flinch, doesn’t change his face, doesn’t move to go. He just turns around slowly, looks Cass in the eye. His voice is so gentle when he speaks.

“That one’s not gonna work on me, mate” ” (x)

“ “Tᴜᴄᴋᴇʀ, ᴜɴᴛɪᴇ ᴍᴇ ɴᴏᴡ”

Tucker sounds like a boy when he laughs. Genuine. Light. Charming.

“It’s so cute when you try that little trick on me,” he says, grips Cass’ chin with an iron fist

“What do you think’s gonna happen, Ace? It’ll just magically work for a change?” ” (x)

-

“Just because you miss a person doesn’t mean you want to see them, Lou”

“But you said you hadn’t seen him in years”

“You don’t think there’s a reason for that?” (x)

"Jesus, two Tucker’s, huh?” he says “Dreams really do come true”

“Oh, I wouldn’t get too excited. We’re not exactly alike”

... “Is that your way of tellin’ me you’re the evil twin?”

“Maybe” (x)

-

“There’s something about Mal that Cass can’t place, can’t pick and it keeps sending him off-kilter. Something familiar-but-not that he doesn’t want to think about.” (x)

“A laugh. A cackle.

Mal laughs like that sometimes. When he’s caught off-guard by something he didn’t expect to find funny. But it’s softer and brighter and it doesn’t make Josiah want to throw up.”  (x)

.....you know it’s really hard to say?

[whumpiary]

Hey, I’m really sorry to bother you but lately I’ve been reading some of your Cassius pieces, and I’m just wondering if you have a master list of all his pieces in order? No pressure sorry!!!

It’s not a bother at all! Thanks for askin!

The closest I have is the general masterlist. Unfortunately it’s currently a couple of months out of date bc Tumblr wont let me update, so it’s missing some juicy stuff. I used to have a timeline post but it was hell to maintain so I have since abandoned it!

I’m working on setting up a new one at the moment that’s a little more organised and cohesive but it may take me a little while! I’m trying to figure out the best way to sort out what is essentially a ten year patch of a persons very messy life interwoven with like 6 other key players and conjunctive character arcs and it’s..... hard.

Because of the way I write and post (at random whenever the stars align and the mood strikes), a lot of things just haven’t been written yet. I am generally more than happy to answer questions and fill in blanks! Cards on the table though I like to hoard plot points like a fiend so I may also just straight up not answer.

For now, if you follow through the masterlist, you’ll get the relative chronology. Feel free to skip the ones that don’t include Cass. Putting a vague timeline under the cut that may help out your navigation of his life events!

The general gist of Cass’ storyline is:

Lives at Bergen Estate with Christopher (a bastard) under an indenture

He does some bad shit

His indenture is transferred to The Facility (shady paramilitary and research organisation) with Tucker (a different shade of bastard)

Meets Josiah and Lou (love interest and friend, respectively)

Continues to work at/be tied to the Facility while doing dumb self destructive shit in his personal life, including slowly sabotaging any positive relationships( :) )

Does more bad shit but this time Josiah’s involved ( :) )

Goes missing for a year ( :/ )

Turns back up on Josiah’s doorstep, seemingly unscathed hold for what seems to be... ?? major withdrawal symptoms? maybe? (this is the “present timeline” but time is arbitrary at this point)

Oh no, more bad shit goes down! what will he do!

[whumpiary]

Did...did Cass kill Harley so he could be transferred?

[whumpiary]

Mal + tucker/institute?

Mal has 0 connections to the Facility

Mal knows Tucker’s real name

Tucker is the person who helped Mal choose his name

They used to have matching tattoos

[whumpiary]

What does exactly "minder" mean?

I assume you mean this in reference to Tucker and the Facility!

Cass is indentured to the Facility, and as such, they are legally responsible for his actions and behaviors.

Tucker is Cass’ “minder” in the sense that he is the person that has been assigned to ensure Cass stays on par with what his contract. Unless he’s fired by the Facility (lol) or they decide for whatever reason to reassign him, Tucker is technically speaking Cassius’ guardian.

He is the person held internally responsible for Cassius’ actions for things that go wrong. If anything were to happen with Cass that could fall back on the Facility, it’d fall back on Tucker instead. He’s kinda the fall guy.

The flip-side of this also gets the benefit of any of Cass’ successes, of which there are many: because Cassius is his ward, these are more or less considered Tucker’s direct success.

There are a number of wards in residence at the Facility, most of whom are “evolutionary developed” like Cass is. They are more or less there as living research pods for the Facility to commodify their abilities and they each have a minder assigned to them. Traditionally, this is someone who works in testing or medical like Lou does.

People in Tucker’s position don’t usually have wards. Tucker requested to be assigned as Cass’ minder because it appealed to him. The role was considered a reward of sorts for his success in integrating Christopher Bergen’s Brighter Horizon’s graduates into the Facility.