#has the least of it and thus vaulting as few people as possible to avoid them going out of play

[limelocked]

How many players have been vaulted in the hermit baseball au?

not a Huge ton i think but id have to actually write out all the teams which i havent done yet

etho has, sparklez has, antvenom who was made available as a replica for a bit and bought by the Earthling Cameras (wip name for smplive/earth team) until their timely incineration, but is still vaulted, xephos, simon honedew, lalna duncan, kirin dave, and martyn littlewood all originally from the two yog teams have been vaulted however xeph simon and lalna for unknown reason still play on the teams while they definitely are in the vault, fans blame this fortunate incident on coincidental egg hatchings and are sabotaging the managements investigation at all turns, martyn and dave are up as replicas

egg hatching is rarer in this blaseball au so theres a high risk of teams slowly dying out and Pitching Machine has been a common sight thru the seasons, new players are usually in the form of new teams but because of long time fans theres no lack of planning to break the hall of flame and the vault open... whatever consequences that will bring

[judediangelo75]

Crushed

Okay, so I mentioned an a random post that I wanted to show the two halves that make, well her.

A painfully timid and skittish side (which mainly developed when she started living with her mother when she came to London. While she can hold her ground against her a bit more, she still fears her mother) and the coldhearted side (which developed at Hogwarts, where all the issues, tragedies and so on harden her).

I was on my Wattpad where I can a collection of Judith and Talbott stories (though there’s not much backstory or structure on there) and this story definitely would show that timid side of her. I tweaked it so it can be better than what I have posted over there.

Just to be clear: This side DOES exist. It’s her most vulnerable side of her. The reason it’s not shown is because Judith doesn’t like showing that side of her. Where she feels like a piece of glass that can break at any second.

She struggles with anxiety. She doesn’t like having too many eyes on her, she feels like people are constantly watching for any mistakes like her mother and exploit it. It gets pretty bad to where she gets anxiety attacks (she usually runs and hides out for awhile until it’s over. Like I said, she doesn’t like showing this side of her, and WILL NOT share this side unless you pry it out of her).

While she doesn’t show it often, she does talk peoples’ words to heart at times. Which doesn’t help her low self esteem.

She does her best to find coping mechanisms to help over the years and does build genuine confidence. But it takes time.

Alright there, you have a back of backstory of that side of her.

Just FYI, this is just to show that side of her (like if her more dominant side; because usually when you push her, that cold side would seep through a bit. You would hardly ever see her skittish)

Okay, I rambled on enough. ON WITH THE STORY!

(Judith Harris)

"There goes Demented Harris," I heard someone whispered to their friend before they broke out into snickers as I walked out of my Transfigurations class. I just kept my head down and walked past them. 

Sometimes I think that coming to Hogwarts was a mistake.

Ever since the incident with my brother years ago, everyone suspects that I'll be just like him. 

Become hellbent on finding the Cursed Vaults, getting expelled, and disappear. Never to be heard from again. 

I have broke a few curses since my second year but I stayed pretty sane. I’m a good student and sought to become a Healer when I graduate. I don’t plan on dropping off of the face of the Earth...

Even though I’m sure nobody would miss me if I did...

I sighed. I would’ve thought some people would at least be a bit grateful for what I’ve done for them, for the school, thus far. But like my mother always said, I’m asking for too much in life. 

It’s fine though. If I can't find love and appreciation in people, then I can in magical creatures at least. 

"Miss Harris?" I blinked, coming out of my thoughts to look down. Professor Flitwick smiled up at me once he saw he had my attention.

"Good day, Miss Harris," he greeted. I gave a shy smile and nodded, whispering a soft hello.

"If it’s not too much trouble, if you're free, I was wondering if you can assist me in a class for first years. One of my top students already agreed to help, but I would love one of my favorites to join in on the lesson," he said. My smile widen a bit before I nodded once more, following the small man to the Charms classroom.

There were times I wished I joined Ravenclaw. I enjoyed spending time with the ex-Dueling Champion. He was one of the few people who treated me with kindness. He didn’t see me as my brother, but for me.

I loved to help him, when it’s for tutoring, helping for the younger students or even for helping the Frog Choir whenever he needs extra help (he’s disappointed that I didn’t actually join, but settled for this arrangement).

I even spend my birthday, which was also his, with him. Something I haven’t done since Papa died.

I let out a mental sigh. But I wasn’t a Ravenclaw. Which might as well be a blessing, seeing how I have an easier time avoiding him.

"Ah, here we are!" I almost missed Mr. Flitwick's delightful cheer when we entered the classroom. All I could focus on what the feeling of my blood going cold when I saw who was the other teaching assistant. 

Talbott Winger...

I quickly ducked my head when he turned to look over in Mr. Flitwick and I's direction. How did that saying go?

Speak of the devil and he shall appear? Whoever said that was on something...

"I hope we didn't keep you waiting, Mr. Winger," Mr. Flitwick said as he hopped up on his tower of books. From the corner of my eye, I saw Talbott give him a small smile.

"Not at all Professor. What will we be helping you teach today," he asked. As Professor Flitwick explained today's lesson, I stood quietly a few feet away from Talbott, trying to make myself as invisible as possible. Flitwick pointed to the basket of feathers and had us place one at each seat. I remained silent as I handled my task from one side of the room.

I developed a crush on Talbott when he helped me become an Animagus. To this day, I don't know why he agreed to help me. Maybe because I have access and knew things that he didn't? 

Either way, I couldn't help but to fall for him.

He just seem so handsome to me. From his neat, slicked back hair to his beautiful red eyes. 

I appreciate the fine art of sarcasm, which he seems to be a master in (next to me of course). I find him hilarious whenever he’s feeling sassy or playful.

 Helping him find his mother's necklace made me realize that there is a beautiful heart and creative mind that he hides under that aloof and unapproachable exterior. 

Which made me fall faster. 

The smile that spread on his face when he said that we were friends just melted my heart in a helpless puddle of love...

But I wouldn't really go as far we were "buddy-buddy". More like acquaintances, hell I'll be lucky enough to call us that even. I would see him around, maybe give a wave. Half of the time he rarely sees it though, making me look awkward in the process...

I don't know why I try to get his attention. It doesn't matter because I know he doesn't feel the same way about me. I remember his reaction when I confessed to him, clear as day.

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

Flashback

"Rather than erase pre-existing memory, it might be easier for you if you tell Mr. Winger a new piece of information. Something that he didn't know before and won't forget, then use the Memory Charm to erase that memory," Flitwick suggested. I heard Talbott made a noise of agreement. I turned to find him sizing me.

"I'm okay with that. If you're just gonna erase my memory of it, you might as well tell me an interesting secret, Judith," Talbott suggested, a hint of mischief dancing in those red eyes. I bit my lip and shyly glanced at the Ravenclaw boy. Maybe I can confess my feelings and see how he feels about me...

"Th-Then this might be a g-good opportunity to tell y-y-you that... I-I-I fancy you, Talbott..." Flitwick and Talbott looked at me in shock.

"Oh my!" Flitwick gasped. I felt my face burn with embarrassment and shame as Talbott looked anxiously at me.

"Wh-what? Are... are you serious," he exclaimed. I rubbed my arm sheepishly, waiting for him to say more.

"Why? I mean... er..." I felt a bit of dread build in the pit of my stomach. Was he surprised? Or was he uncertain on how to let me down gently?

"Thank you," he finally said, though it came out more like a question. I buried my burning face in my hands.

"This probably wasn't the right time..." Or any time for that matter. 

The boy rarely looked in my direction, why would I even think he would express some kind of interest in a witch like me?

"Ahem, perhaps now would be a good time to try casting Obliviate..." I never agreed with Professor Flitwick more. I quickly pulled out my wand, pointing it at Talbott.

For a moment, I could’ve sworn a look of protest in his red eyes, but didn’t want to dwell on it too much.

Talbott was not leaving this room with that memory, not if I can help it.

After casting the spell, Talbott looked lost then a little frustrated, like he was struggling to remember something.

"What do you remember, Talbott," I asked as I withdrew my wand. I needed to know if the spell worked or not so I determine if I should go into hiding for the rest of my time at Hogwarts...

"I remember you choosing to cast Obliviate on me, then... nothing," He replied. I let out a sigh of relief.

"That means Obliviate worked," I cheered. Talbott looked at me suspiciously.

"Now you've gotten me curious. What did you tell me," he asked. 

Ha! You're hilarious if you think I'm repeating that situation twice. I'd sooner jump into the Black Lake.

"I'll tell you later," I smirked. By later, I mean never. 

Like ever. 

He returned the smirk.

"I'm going to hold you to that..." Over my dead body, Winger...

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

Ever since then, only two people know of my crush on Talbott. 

Professor Flitwick and Penny. 

I'm pretty sure he forgot about that whole situation and I'm more than grateful for it. I wasn't gonna confess again back then and I'm not looking to confess now.

Once the classroom was set up, the first years filed in and took their seats. Professor Flitwick introduced both of us to the class. As Flitwick went over the basics of the lesson, Talbott turned to look at me. I almost jumped out of my skin.

"How are you, Judith," he asked, a small smile tugging on his lips.

"I-I'm o-okay... and yourself," I stuttered. Judith, words! Use them!

"I'm doing good... I must admit, being here together brings back memories," he said. I fidgeted, already knowing what he was implying.

"O-oh," I asked, trying to play dumb. He looked me in my eyes.

"Yeah, where we came to Flitwick to learn the Memory Charm... I'm glad you talked me out of using it on Merula by the way," he admitted, his smile growing. I felt a blush blossom on my cheeks. 

Gods, why is he so handsome?

"It's not a problem, Talbott," I said softly, looking down so he wouldn’t see my red face. He hummed before saying,

"You know, you never told me what you said to me when you erased my memory.”.

"Miss Harris, do you think can come and demonstrate the proper stance and help the class correct their stance?" I darted away to help Professor Flitwick. The Gods are looking out for me today.

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

(Talbott Winger)

I frowned when the young Hufflepuff basically ran away from me to help Flitwick. 

Judith seems naturally shy, but never have I ever seen her outright run from something. She took on Cursed Vaults, but she runs from a simple question.

Ever since she erased my memory of whatever she told me, the situation would pass through my mind from time to time. I just wasn't sure how to approach the topic with her. Today seem like the perfect opportunity to broach the topic with the cute Hufflepuff.

Yes, I said cute. Because she is.

I admit I didn't like how she was so pressed to help me in the beginning but I slowly grew fond of the girl. 

Plus, she was very beautiful.

Ever since I hit my growth spurt, I towered over the Hufflepuff by at least a good 5 to 6 inches. She was a bit on the short side, but where I was standing, she seems small and it was adorable. 

Her sweet face was one of my favorite things to look at. Despite her shyness, her facial expressions usually spoke for her sometimes. The way her nose would scrunch up in distaste when she heard something unpleasant or she didn't like. The way her brow would crease in concentration when she's in class or studying. The way she would hide her flushed cheek behind her hand when she's embarrassed. The way her eyes would speak for her when she can't formulate words...

I normally wouldn't pay much attention to the opposite sex as far as physical appearance but I must admit, there was a time or so where I wondered what she looked like in more form fitting clothes, instead of her House robes or her trusted yellow hoodie.

Her shyness made her all more endearing. 

The way her gold eyes would widen slightly when someone focuses their attention on her. The way her sweet voice would sometimes stutter when she tries to talk. Sometimes hitting a higher octave when she feels insulted. How she would bring the bottom half of her hoodie to cover her face when she's blushing. How she fiddles with her dark brown hair when she's nervous.

She was cavity-inducing...

"Mr. Winger, can you come up with Miss Harris to cast today's spell?" I heard Professor Flitwick call. 

I smiled as I walked up to stand beside the suddenly flustered Hufflepuff. Together we were able to levitate our own feathers, flying them across the room. I peeked over at Judith, seeing a beautiful smile spread on her face. My heart fluttered at the sight. 

Such a shy and quiet beauty.

"Excellent, just excellent," Flitwick praised. Judith looked down, shuffling her feet. We soon went on the opposite sides of the room to help any students with the spell. I stole some glances at her, finding her smiling and laughing with the first years, applauding them when they successfully cast the spell. 

She looked so happy...

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

Once class was over and we finished cleaning the classroom, Judith was already gone before I could question her again. I softly cursed beneath my breath.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Winger," Professor Flitwick asked. I perked up a bit. Maybe he knows, he was there after all...

"I was wondering if you could help me with something... about Judith," I said softly. He nodded.

"Do you remember what Judith told me the day you taught us the Memory Charm?" He looked surprised and mused over what I said.

"So I'm assuming Miss Harris never told you what she said that day," he said. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Winger, but it is simply not my place to tell you," he sighed. I rubbed a hand over my face, suddenly tired. Will I ever know what that girl said?

"May I ask you something, Mr. Winger?" I looked up the the short man.

"Is it possible you fancy the girl? I've noticed how you looked at her during class," he asked. I felt a blush working its way up to my neck. 

Am I obvious?

"Of course not, Mr. Winger. But you are in my house, I take the time to learn my students throughout the years," Flitwick chuckled. I glared at the man's teasing.

"Yes... I started to grow fond of her and she is rather endearing," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. The professor smiled at me.

"Although I can't tell you what she said, I'm sure you can get your answer if you spend some more time with the girl," he offered. I frowned.

"But I rarely see her around, except for class and in passing," I said. The girl was extremely scarce, despite having her own friends. Flitwick looked thoughtful for a few moments before saying,

"Why not ask Hagrid for her whereabouts? I know she spends a decent amount of time with the man." Not a bad idea...

"I'll go do that now, thank you Professor and enjoy the rest of your day," I smiled, walking out.

Time to catch me a little Hufflepuff.

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

"Hello, Hagrid," I said, approaching the giant man. Hagrid turned to me with a big smile.

"Hello there, Talbott! What can I do fer ya?" Fang barked and ran up to me. I chuckled and bent down to pet the dog.

"I was hoping if you could help me find someone," I said as I rubbed Fang's belly. The man laughed cheerfully.

"Why of course, m' boy! Who are you lookin' fer?," he asked.

"Judith, have you seen her," I asked, silently praying he'll agree to help. Hagrid looked taken aback at my request.

"I- er..." I rose a brow at him.

"I don't know Talbott... Judith made me promise not to tell anyone where she goes when she has free time," he said, looking a bit sad.

Here I thought I preferred being alone, but clearly she has me beat...

"Why is it that she wants to be alone so much," I asked. I was a bit upset that I couldn't find the girl as easily as I would like.

"There are some cruel kids in this ‘ere school, Talbott. The girl has a lot more weight on her shoulders than anybody realizes," Hagrid sighed. I frowned.

"What does that mean," I asked.

"Pay close attention to what people say when she's around," Hagrid simply said.

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

Taking the man's advice, I watched the girl as closely as possible the next few weeks. I must admit, it hurt me seeing the girl being pushed around.

Demented Harris.

Jinxed Judith.

Jamal #2.

The shoves.

The laughs.

The public humiliation.

Those hurt gold eyes, shimmering with unshed tears.

No wonder she's so quiet and hardly around. Any form of attention brought to her is negative. 

I miss seeing her smile...

Today I planned on confronting her, hopefully to provide some comfort. 

In my Animagus form, I silently followed the girl as she walked out of the castle in the direction of the Magical Creature Reserve. Perching myself in a tree nearby, I watched as she walked in a grassy field, carrying a bag of creature feed. 

As she approached a Niffler, Knarl, Porlock, Diricrawl, and Abraxan all perked up at the sight of her.

"Feeding time, my loves," she called, her voice sweet and full of affection. The creatures all bounded towards her. Her Niffler, bounded up her legs, torso to rest on her shoulders. The Knarl rolled around her feet before bumping into her left foot. The Porlock trotted up to nuzzle her right calf, it's tail waging. Her Diricrawl nuzzled her left leg, flapping its small wings. The Abraxan trotted around her, nuzzling her hair. 

The girl was giggling at her creatures’ enthusiasm.

"One at a time, everyone. You will all get your turn," she said. She looked so cute, surrounded by all these creatures. 

Once she fed them all, she and them all walked around the field and to my hiding place. The Abraxan looked directly at me and huffed. It turned and used its hide legs to kick the tree. I let out a surprised squawk and flew out before I could fall.

"Angel! What's gotten into you, it's just an eagle," Judith cried, running up to the winged horse to soothe it. I landed a few feet away and her Porlock stared at me warily. 

Can her creatures tell I'm not really just an eagle? The Porlock went up to me, sniffing me before letting out a soft huff of distrust. 

Yeah, they can...

Giving up the act, I transformed back into my human form. The Porlock let out a small startled cry and ran to Judith, hugging her leg.

"What's wrong, Baron-" Judith froze when she saw me standing there. I let out a bashful smile.

"Talbott! Wh-what are y-you..." she trailed off, looking down. I slowly walked towards her, doing my best not frighten her.

"I just wanted to see you, Judith," I said softly.

"Why," she asked firmly, turning to face me. I took in her full appearance and blushed a bit. 

She was wearing a floor length sundress, white on the top that gradients to a soft shade of yellow. It was form fitting, hugging her curves perfectly. Her full chest, small waist, her abs, her slowly rounding hips. 

Her hair was in twists. Most of it was pulled back in a low ponytail while the rest formed her bang that occasionally sweep over her right eye. 

Her face was free of makeup, save a gloss over her plump lips. Her skin was basically glowing...

I swallowed thickly. 

She was...uh... rather developed for someone was just 16. 

Oh boy...

"I want to spend some time with you," I said, reminding myself to breathe. Her pretty gold eyes widen and she shifted uncomfortably on each foot.

"S-spend time with m-me," she repeated, sounding lost. I nodded, getting closer. We were only less than a foot apart now and I could smell her perfume. I tried my best to keep my breathing even, even though I was to take in more of that pleasant smell. 

I held out my hand. She looked down, extremely confused.

"We could start with a walk around the Creature Reserve... if you'd like," I suggested, silently hoping that she'll say yes. 

A few moments past and I could feel my nerves starting to take over. Before I could pull back, Judith laid her small hand in mine, stepping close.

"Okay... but we're visiting the rest of my creatures in the meanwhile," she said, staring at my chest. Slowly, I grasped her chin to tilt upwards so she can meet my eyes. 

She had one of prettiest eye colors I've seen, I could get lost in them all day...

"Of course, anything for you," I said with a smile. Her eyes went wide and she abruptly buried her face in my chest. I felt my heart stutter at her unexpected closeness but didn't push her away. 

Gods, she was so cute...

"C'mon, what other creatures do you have," I chuckled, gently nudging her from her hiding place. She flustered at our proximity to one another and simply held my hand, leading me to other parts of the reserve.

The entire time, I couldn’t help but to notice the feeling of her hand in mine.

Her hand had a few callouses on her fingertips and a bit on her palm, assuming from all the writing and physical work that she does. But her hand felt soft overall. 

To me, it shows how strong she is, all while still having a gentle touch.

Perfectly her...

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

I made some decent progress with Judith the next few weeks. 

She was able to open up to me and allow me to help her take care of the creatures she adopted. It was nice to see her laugh and smile around me. 

There was moments of slight awkwardness, like some of her creatures pushing us closer together. The bigger creatures were especially known for this. One time, Griffin, her Hippogriff, purposefully picked up the girl and set her on his back, as if going on flight. He never gave her adequate time to properly hold on, so when he took off, she would fall over and I have to race to catch her. I always found myself holding her protectively against my chest, our faces just an inch or two apart. 

More than once, I've been tempted to kiss her. 

But I simply set her down while she shyly thanked me and scurried off.

We were sitting side by side each other, under the shade of a large tree. Another sundress hugged her frame, this time white and royal blue. Her Porlock, Baron, was cuddling up against her as she scratched behind his ears.

"Hey Judith," I called out softly. Her pretty gold eyes shyly glanced at me.

"Yes," she answered. Taking a deep breath, I brought up the question,

"Why wouldn't you tell me what happened in Charms class that day?" she stiffen a bit and Baron let out a soft huff of worry. I reached out for her hand, intertwining our fingers.

"Please don't shut me out, Judith. I just simply want to know," I said softly. I watched as she gave the young Porlock a final scratch behind his ears before sending him off.

“I-I... I’m scared to see your reaction again,” she quietly admitted. I gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Hey, we’re a bit older and mature now. I’m sure I can handle it better this time,” I told her. She peeked at me from her short curly lashes before looking away.

She mumbled something under her breath.

"What was that," I asked, scooting over closer. The sweet smell of coconuts and cocoa butter greeted my senses, and I wanted to close my eyes in bliss.

"I...Talbott," she said a bit louder. Growing bold, I gently grasp her chin to look so she can face me.

"One more time for me, Judith..." Tears welled up in her eyes, and she let out a soft whimper.

"I fancy you, Talbott," she quietly sobbed, trying to pull away from me. I froze. Judith likes me...?

She feels the same way.

My lack of response made things worse as her eyes grew wide and frantic.

"I-I-I'm sorry! I di-didn't- you-you don't ha-have to-" her ramblings with a soft gasp. I pulled the girl into my lap, hugging her. 

Judith went still, her nerves undoubtedly getting the best of her.

"There is nothing to be sorry for, little bird... I fancy you too," I whispered into her hair. She shyly met my eyes, hope shining brightly in those gold orbs.

"Y-Y-You do," she asked, trying to blink away any tears in her eyes. I gently wiped her tears away from my thumbs, she let out a soft breath at my touch.

"I do, Judith. And I want to prove it to you. Everyday... While at Hogwarts and beyond," I said softly. Feeling bold, I peppered kisses all over her face. Her eyes fluttered closed as I did this, her breathing slowly evening out. When I pulled back a little, she clenched at my robes with a whimper, pressing herself against me.

"T-Talbott, I-I-I..." Her expression was uncertain and fearful. I noticed how her gaze would land on my lips before darting back up to meet my gaze. 

Rubbing her back, I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers. 

She readjusted herself so she would be straddling my lap, her lips still moving shyly against mine. I groaned a little and squeezed her a bit closer. My hands followed the outline of her waist and hips, memorizing it. One of her hands was clenching at my robes and the other fisted in my hair. I groaned throatily. Gods, she's so perfect...

I pulled away, kissing the tip of her nose.

"You're so beautiful and perfect, darling," I cooed, nuzzling her cheek. I could partially feel the temperature rise and chuckled.

"And adorable," I added, pecking her lips. She pouted at me when I pulled away. I chuckled again.

"Don't give me that cute sad face," I told her. She grumbled but snugged against my chest. I sighed and ran my fingers through her hair.

"Talbott..." I hummed, letting her know I was listening.

"I like you," she said, kissing my cheek. I smiled and squeezed her tight.

"I like you too..."

[fanfictionsrookie]

Watch As I Overanalyze Cinder’s Fight Wit Penny...

I knew Cinder was one for dramatics, but good grief, what happened to being subtle XD

But considering the situation and the time they had left to stop Amity, this was the best course of action.

Can I tell you I screamed! Also, just a screenshot I liked. There will be a lot of them lol.

So Cinder is still holding onto her grudge with Ruby, but it was honestly for the best that she wasn’t there. Cinder would not have been able to take on Ruby and her team as well.

Now I wonder if this is Cinder projecting in some way. Not just because in terms of Salem’s plans, Cinder has been doing the heavy lifting, or at least been tasked to do so. Cinder likely sees this situation as an example. But because of the implications that Cinder as a child, was forces to so a lot of strenuous work on her own.

It’s possible that this might be more projecting, but the way Cinder says it, makes me think she sees herself more as that. Salem did tell her that she was more valuable, but she’s still just a piece in this game. Cinder might be trying to convince herself otherwise.

Have another bootiful screenshot.

Every time Neo does this... I feel things...

More screams.

So things like this suggest to me that Cinder is slowly but surely finding her way back into her comfort zone, trying to re-establish whatever sense of identity she had before volume 3. That and becoming more proficient in using her Maiden Powers, which has become a lot more personalized since volume 3/4 where she relied on fire alone.

Now I love this little reaction, because it is the moment where Cinder realises that Penny is simply distracting her from her main objective. So Cinder is starting to get a handle on her anger and is able to exploit it in a moment of clarity when she turns back. However, she still has quite a bit of growth to go through.

Just something I was wondering about. How does Penny know a person poses a threat? Does she log them into her memory so that they are much easier identifiable later on when they might be more difficult to spot?

And another thing. In this moment Cinder either priorities her mission to stop Amity, or she realises that she would have more success in stopping Penny with Emerald and Neo around.

Maria is having a field day, and I would feel bad if it wasn’t lowkey funny lol. But it’s nice to know Maria still got it. Neo was due a hit to her winning streak as well.

Sexy smirk.

But more alarmingly, that arm. Like that thing has progressed past her shoulder completely and I’m willing to bet that it is making it’s way across her back and side. Now, gauging from the shadows around the Grimm strands, we can conclude that it is not as invasive as we thought, merely anchoring itself at the edges. However, I do hope something are done about them soon, even if Cinder does not seem particularly worries about it... yet.

I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for this question. As for the answer...

I. Was. Floored.

Mostly because I didn’t expect that answer at all. You could do a whole post just about those three lines. But I’ll try to be concise.

So first, Cinder does not see herself as serving Salem. This can be interpreted in a few ways.

1.)  Cinder does not see herself as bellow Salem, not far at least. Linking back to Cinder ‘being more than a pawn’ it could be that Cinder sees her affiliation to Salem as more of a mutual agreement where both parties get something out of it. As for why Salem would let her think this? I think it plays into Cinder’s fear of being controlled and taken advantage of, as she has implied to have been in the past. Thus, in order to keep Cinder under her control, Salem makes her think that she isn’t under control but rather ‘guidance’.

Cinder might be using Salem as a means of gaining power for some other goal. A goal more specific than just wanting power, or an extension thereof. Which Salem could very much be aware of. But Salem’s control over Cinder goes far past what Cinder believes or would want to. And that is why she is trying to convince herself otherwise.

2.) Cinder does not see herself as serving Salem, because she sees herself as an extension, a ‘vessel’ of Salem’s will. Now this links back to Cinder seeing herself as more useful. But this version implies an even greater loss of her identify. Cinder wants power, not just because of her fear of being powerless, but a cultivated desire to be like Salem and carry out her will. Even if they disagree on how that should be carried out. In a sense, Cinder does not see herself as serving Salem, but rather ‘becoming’ her in some way.

Have an adorably happy murder child.

Linking back to Cinder’s tactical retreat to Amity. This is the clearest example of Cinder learning from her fight with Raven. Cinder used her environment to perfectly set up a situation where Penny is near defenseless and where Cinder can go after her Maiden Powers.

Now, I have talked about the possibility of Cinder having absorbed some of Raven’s Power. But that it might not be enough to open the vault, that the scenario was simply set up as a visual cue to show HOW syphoning those Powers would work.

But this time, not only is the visual cue clear and day-light, shown longer, but it’s also front and center. Do I think that this is enough for Cinder to open the Vault?

No.

But I do hope something comes from this. CRWBY can’t keep showing us Cinder visibly taking more and more of the Maiden’s power, even if just a little bit, and not have it pay off or come around in some way. 

With just one look, Cinder and Emerald had a plan ready to go. And I wish we got more of that in this episode. I wish we had more instances of Cinder working with others, because clearly they do know how to read each other and work together. At the very least, I hope it’s a build up to what can happen in the future, because I fully expect to see much more of Emerald’s semblance.

Yes, please and thank you.

Now this scene is very familiar. And I wished that Cinder and Co would have made more use of tactics like this, even if I explained in the beginning why that opportunity went up with Amity. I did feel bad for Penny though. The memories must’ve been awful.

I will be drawing the screencap.

BABY NOOOO!

Ugh, I felt so bad for Emerald during this scene.

And I really do hope that these two get to actually talk to one another. At the very least that Cinder realises that if it weren’t for Emerald, she’d be dead. In the same vein, it’s also high time that Emerald confronts Cinder about how wrongly she has been treated. Because even when Cinder took Emerald with her, you could see that Cinder was not paying attention to either Emerald or Neo, up until the time she needed them. Which is ironic because Cinder does not seem to take notice of the things Emerald or Neo has done for her, past what Cinder expected of them. And that needs to stop.

Because you people need an unhinged Penny.

And I wonder if Penny realised it too...

That this scene is eerily similar to the one she had when she had to protect Winter.

I’ve been holding off on saying it but... gods does Cinder look sad and adorable. poor baby.

As for Neo, not only is she probably pissed that Emerald is giving her orders but that they would have to return to Salem after Cinder’s bad idea got her, and them all by extension, in an even worse position. I wouldn’t be surprised if Neo starts looking for an out soon after this.

Looks like Salem is back to petting her favourite XD

Now, how is Salem going to react to this? Because from this shot it seems like she wanted the world to know about her. If that was the case, it makes sense to tell Cinder to stay put, but then WHY NOT TELL CINDER? Salem probably does not feel the need to explain herself to others, but this whole detour could be avoided if she had just given her some kind of reasoning.

So not only will Cinder be punished for disobeying orders and failing at her task, but for setting out and doing something that goes completely against Salem’s goals. The only thing I can give for these events, is that it is continuing to drive a wedge between Cinder and Salem, whilst also demonstrating that Cinder does have her own goals and ways of thinking.

But narratively? Does it hold a lot of weight? I don’t know.

We don’t know the full extent of the message, so we don’t know if Cinder’s actions stopped another point of key information going through. Penny would have been hacked by Watts regardless. And I really did hope that Cinder would succeed, that they would have made more use of Neo and Emerald’s semblance, even if subtlety wasn’t a viable tactic. Considering that Cinder mostly relied on her own abilities, and assuming her arc is realising power does not guarantee victory, this makes sense.

But if that was CRWBY’s intent, why not demonstrate this by forcing Cinder to rely more on Emerald and Neo, past just having them to take her to safety, even if that is a big deal. Look this scene revealed a lot of not only Cinder’s way of thinking, but Penny’s as well. I just wish everything didn’t play out as straight as it felt. As for narrative outcomes, I hope we get to see more of that, and it’s not just me wanting to see Cinder taking some of Penny’s Powers, have actual consequences.

Because in terms of consequences, there could be a LOT.

Emerald finally standing up to Cinder, defecting with Neo even, Cinder getting some appreciation for Neo and Emerald, Salem punishing Cinder in a way that makes her want to break away, Cinder reliving more of her past memories, (although I feel like this will be more crumbs, leading up until the third altercation which might be the final push, because I do not feel like this is quite it), Cinder confronting Salem about her goals and why they were kept hidden from her, only for Cinder to realise that Salem does not hold her in as high regard as she thinks.

Whatever happens, I want the fall out of this to drastically change the very views Cinder established in this episode. 

I want Cinder’s disobedience in pursuit of her own goals to have drastic effects and propel her character development forward, even if Cinder is thinks that she is just taking one step back after another.

Whatever the fallout is, I am here for it.

[sepublic]

Gus Porter and Amity Blight

          It’s fascinating, really… Writing about Gus and the Blight Twins interacting, I realized more and appreciated just how similar Gus and Amity are, while still being different- Like two sides of the same coin! Which ties back to another post I made, giving Gus the elemental motif of Water, which led to my speculation on how this might character a relationship with Amity and her Fire (amidst Gus being a counter to Boscha’s Fire).

           Gus and Amity are both precocious kids, sure… There’s this idea that they DO enjoy learning, and have a family lineage they’re ‘proud’ of. These kids are intelligent, and they come across as confident… But admittedly, there’s a bit of loneliness, of not being heard/taken seriously. But despite having more family members, Amity’s loneliness was a lot more damaging and potent, and her issues of not being heard came from her family members dismissing Amity herself! Whilst with Gus, this mostly came from his peers, who were older than him anyway and thus had more ‘reason’ to underestimate the kid.

           Not to mention, Gus and Perry clearly get along, because even if Gus DOES have some insecurity, here or there… He IS a person and so of course he’s going to have ‘flaws’, just like anyone else! Not to downplay them or anything of course. But it’s obvious that ultimately, Gus is happy, confident, and self-assured, and he knows who he is and doesn’t have to hide it, or be different from it despite being an Illusionist… In contrast to Amity, who clearly isn’t happy with who she is, feels like she has to make up for it, and wears a ‘mask’.

           Gus uses his Illusions to bolster, to show off, and to enhance his own identity, while Amity hides who she is, telling herself to shut up and be a quiet and obedient kid who doesn’t stick out amidst the rest of her family, she’s ashamed of herself. Amity dyes her hair because of what Odalia told her, and she actively sees herself as someone to change and ‘improve’ upon, in order to live up to the Blight family standard… But Gus? Gus is happy with himself because the Porter lineage consists of dweebuses… They’re people who are happy with who they are, and they’ve transmitted the same sentiments towards their children!

           Gus looks up to Perry, but it’s a healthy relationship… He genuinely admires his father because of his own choice, because Perry was good and kind to him! But Amity, she looks up to her parents because they made her dependent upon them, they indoctrinated her… They made Amity base her self-worth upon their approval. The Blight name is a curse to Amity, a reminder that she’s never good enough; Whilst the Porter name tells Gus that whoever he is, that’s valid and he should be proud of it!

           How fitting then, is it, that Gus helps lead the rebellion against Belos alongside Willow and his father Perry, who seems intrigued by what his kid has to say; Whilst Odalia and Alador would never listen to what Amity has to tell them! Gus is the one who is reassured of his own self-worth, that he’s perfectly valid as is, by the Oracle Orb… while Amity still has doubts over herself, even if Luz IS helping her overcome this. Amity is of a higher-class, nobler status in life, she comes across as more presitigous as a top student and tries a lot…

           But Gus, who definitely DOES participate, is still a lot more talented, and managed to ascend a few grades when Amity couldn’t, and is still happy with learning at school. Gus’ life comes across as less glamorous, he had less friends with just Willow, and then Luz… But those friends ended up a lot closer and more genuine to him than Boscha and her group were to Amity. And in the end, Gus gained even more friends through Eda and King… And while Amity ‘lost’ Boscha and the others, she alsojoined in on the friend group with Gus! So they have each other in a sense, because actual friendships are reciprocal and two-way.

           They both had a passion for an extra-curricular activity that they were in charge of, too; Amity had the Hexside Banshees, Gus had the Human Appreciation Society! And both willingly ousted themselves from membership entirely from said group, despite their legitimate enjoyment of it. Gus and Amity did so because they ‘paid the price’ for hurting someone else… in Amity’s case, this was herself being too critical of herself for accidentally injuring Boscha and Amelia with the Thorn Vault.

          With Gus, he DID accept the consequences of his genuine mistake, and by doing so, allowed Luz to enroll in Hexside! Amity only hurt herself, but Gus ended up helping Luz and his relationship with her and others in the end. Finally, Amity’s departure was wholly her own decision, while Gus was somewhat forced to leave because of Mattholomule’s antics, and Principal Bump’s punishment. Either way, what Amity did was bad for herself, while what Gus did was a moment of maturity and growth!

          It works with how Water and Fire are polar opposites, but they’re also intertwined with one another… Gus is the ideal to Amity’s life. He’s not as extreme in his differentiation as Luz and her colder Ice, so there’s still plenty of similarities… Just as Luz reflects Amity in one way, so does Gus in the other! He’s an Amity who is happy with himself, who has a family lineage he can actually enjoy and be a part of, etc. The more I think of it, the more fascinating it is to me, how similar yet different the two are; Especially since Gus and his motif of Water provided unconditional friendship to Willow, in the wake of Amity and her Fire damaging the girl’s self-esteem.

          And while Amity and Gus have their academic skill and surprising ‘maturity’ acknowledged… Amity’s maturity is superificial, more blind and quiet obedience than anything else, while Gus’ maturity is real and applies to his self-worth. Not to mention, Amity’s ‘maturity’ causes others to not see her as a kid who still needs emotional support and has insecurities, whilst other people recognize Gus as still being young and needing help; But at the same time, they don’t infantilize him! Gus has needs, sure, but he also has a lot to offer. People generally seem more fixated on what they can do for him, VS Amity’s parents asking so much of her.

           Sadly, the interactions between Gus and Amity have been practically zero. I guess I can’t blame Gus, he’s seen how terrible Amity was towards Willow, so he might be reluctant to know her personally… And similarly, Amity is too shy and reserved to extend friendship readily, already has this with Luz, and might be afraid of disappointing Gus, amidst him having witnessed Willow’s abuse longer than Luz did. To Amity, who was likely afraid of losing Luz’s opinion of her when Willow’s memories came into play; She probably assumes that Gus has a bad opinion of her.

           Whether or not he does, I can’t say for sure… But the kid seems too good-natured and open to bear a grudge. At the very least, Amity has improved a lot, and Gus has been busy in other interactions, such as with Eda, King, and regrettably, Hooty. But if they DID interact in Season 2, I’d love to see Gus and Amity take note of the comparisons and dichotomy of their lives… Perhaps Amity becomes envious of Gus, or at least wishes she had what he does, while deciding to look after the kid- She doesn’t want him to become like her!

           Gus realizes that Amity is unfortunate… He better appreciates his relationship with Perry, as if he doesn’t already, and I can see him offering a lot of confidence to Amity! Maybe helping her relax, listen to what she has to say… We never see it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Gus was someone who listened a lot to what Willow had to say in the past, just as Luz does to Willow AND Amity! Gus becoming friends with Amity could help the girl make new connections and solidify them, to both her and Luz’s delight… And Gus is elated to have another audience member to entertain with his illusions, someone who will listen to him!

          Because like King, while he does have issues with feeling unheard… In the end, he makes a point of letting himself be noticed, hence his enjoyment of Illusions, self-confidence, and one-time stint as MC at Grom! Whilst Amity tries NOT to be noticed, at least not in the individual sense- She’ll draw attention to the façade she has the Blight Child, and as a faceless member of the Emperor’s Coven one day… And that’s another dichotomy; The Blights are covenscouts and support Belos’ reign, while Perry Porter works with the news, reporting on some of the less desirable parts of Belos’ rule, and his own role is used by Gus to help lead an uprising against the Emperor; To show the truth to Belos’ cruelty, which is ironic for a kid who specializes in Illusions!

           As the son of a reporter, Gus has likely heard a LOT of gossip… So it’s possible he’ll be a lot more privy than most to Belos’ corruption, in the event that Perry likely does some investigation, or at least a lot of reporting and inevitably gets assigned to a thing or two. Whilst Amity’s parents keep her shielded from the truth of the Emperor’s Coven, or at least try to justify it… But Gus, he could be someone who helps Amity realize how corrupt Belos is, and how a good relationship with a parent that discusses the family name actually looks like! He can help Amity realize the truth- Again, another ironic contrast to his Illusionist talents. Assuming what happened with Luz, Eda, and Lilith isn’t already enough for Amity…

           Obviously Gus doesn’t HAVE to be friends with Amity and vice-versa. I can understand if he wants to avoid her because of what she did to Willow. But I think if the two WERE to interact, there’s some potential… At the very least, there’s a lot of thematic connections, similarities, and differences that are worth noting and appreciating. I’m just imagining Gus seeing Amity as being all down and in the pits, cheering her up with Illusions… And Amity listens to and understands Gus when he has to vent a bit.

           Amusingly, he’s also a self-proclaimed ‘Human expert’! So I can see Amity looking to GUS of all people on guidance on how to woo Luz, and navigate her human culture… And Gus, despite meaning well, just sets up Amity for failure and antics as he teaches her all of the wrong things! Imagine Amity nervously coming up to Luz, dressed in a rain poncho because it’s apparently a ‘display of romantic affection’ while Gus unblinkingly flashes her a thumbs-up from behind a bush! And then that leads to his disappointment as he realizes he screwed up…

           Or, Luz is such a goober who loves Amity that she takes it all in stride and genuinely enjoys it, leading to Gus being triumphant in his knowledge, while telling Amity ‘I told you so!’ Amity can’t BELIEVE she actually listened to him- But it paid off in the end, didn’t it? And hey, maybe she can use her power as a Blight to nab a human artifact for Gus… Or at least show him of Azura, assuming Luz already hasn’t! But given that book series is about witches and not humans themselves, I can see Gus not being too intrigued.

           To Amity, Gus is this weird, unusual little kid with a lot of ideas, surprisingly precocious… But she appreciates his confidence in himself, and how sweet he can be! While Gus sees Amity as Willow’s former friend who REALLY hurt her, but has since improved… And he knows through Luz and Willow that her parents are outright abusive, maybe he’s even had past interactions with Emira and Edric, as members of the same track! Either way, Gus has a lot of natural curiosity that wasn’t quashed or taken advantage of by his father, but actually supported… Maybe he’ll be interested in interviewing Amity, getting to know the REAL Amity Blight, encouraging her to come forth! And Amity is uncertain, maybe flattered… Maybe she humors him and actually DOES open up a little, maybe not.

[nikyiscreepy]

Crushinggg

I’m not sure if I’ll ever post this because I’m insecure as hell, but if I do, then I’m sorry, this is going to be long and pretty cringe-y.

Since we all know at this point that Niky is a lesbian, let me show you her rollercoaster of random crushes through the years, because why the hell not.

First year Niky was a confused crybaby, because everything was new: new country, new magical life and new friends. This made her often feel uncomfortable and lost, but with her new friends around everything was a bit brighter. She has always been that kind of person that considers their friends as a part of their family and since her true family was far away, she got attached to them quite fast and easily. After a couple of months into this new world, one of her friends started to tickle her heart and that friend was no other than one of Hogwarts’ popular girls: Penny Haywood. At first, Niky avoided Penny because she still had the bad memories of her old muggle school hunting her mind, but she soon realized that, thank God, Penny wasn’t like the popular girls of her nightmares. Penny was very kind and prone to give a hand whenever she needed an extra one, always with a good pep talk ready and really, REALLY pretty. However, this mini crush lasted for about a few months before the end of year one. Niky never told Penny she fancied her.

Year three Niky started a bit numb, because of the “incident” of the year before. She really felt bad about it, so much that she didn’t wear her house colors the whole year (exept in her classes obviously, but even there she felt guilty of wearing them) because she felt like she wasn’t deserving of it. However, she soon puts this feeling of guilt in second place when she had randomly met Sabina Ivyash, a fifth year Ravenclaw, while serching for Bill. After a few days of asking information about her, she finally had the courage to go talk to her and soon became friends. It was actually quite easy to talk to her, Sabina was a very solar and silly person, confident, full of ideas and always ready for the adventure. But after a few months, Niky’s head got more focused on finding the cursed vault and on learning about buggarts, than thinking about her little crush on Sabina. Until Chirstmas break. 

When the break ended, Niky was pleased to see a new face in her Herbology class. A very cute face. It was Persephone Palerosine, a second year Slytherin. Niky already knew Persephone, but only because she’s friends with Sabina, they never talked before. Likely because Persephone is very reserved and highly focused on her own success and ambitions, thus the reason why she, a second year, was having a few extra hours with the third year. She wanted to be the best of her year in Herbology at all costs, so that she could become a professional herbologiest outside of Hogwarts. At first, Persephone always tried to end every conversation with Niky as soon as possible because she knew about the “drama” that surrounded her and her brother and she didn’t want anything to do with that, but after a while of her insisting to chat a bit she gave in and slowly became friends. Niky’s feelings were in conflict between the two girls, but she then decided to at least tell them what has been going on, so that at least her conscience would give her peace.

So she did...

...but it didn’t end up very well. Nothing to worry about though, it wasn’t a big deal in the end, since her feelings towards them had becoming lighter and lighter, day by day, becoming only a silly memory.

On year four however...

Things started to become odd, very odd. Whenever she encountered Merula, she started shaking. Maybe it was still the feeling of guilt about the “incident” on year two kicking in, or at least that was what Niky hoped was about. Then, she started to find herself starring at her during classes, but “I’m just very distracted and since she’s always near to me, it’s the first thing that my eyes gets on...” was always her excuse. Then she started to draw her during Care of Magical Creatures, sometimes in a funny way, other times as a normal sketch of her that she kept with her, but that was all for fun and games it didn’t mean anything. However, when Niky slowly started to consider that maybe her actions towards Merula weren’t so random afterall, she received her final and crucial proof of what she hoped it wasn’t real, was actually happening: She started to bleed out of her mouth while thinking of her. For people who have a normal heart, that would mean that you’re about to die, but for people who have a bigger heart (literally) that means that you’re simply feeling a very strong emotion and your heart is just pumping faster, producing a bit too much blood. That was it, there's no way to deny it anymore.

She's crushing over her. She likes her, a lot that is and this time, it wasn't something light and easy to deal with like the other times before, oh no. Niky obviously didn't take the news very well at first (not that "Lilith" was doing any better), but after a while she accepted it and embrace it. She actually started to wonder what made her crush over her and she wanted to know her a bit better outside of the gossips, so she started to ""casually"" spend some time with her.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

The Leithian Reread - Canto IV

I love the beginning of this canto, all the more so for how Lúthien’s dancing was inspired by Edith Tolkien dancing in a glade in England.

there flitting just before his feet

she gently chid with laughter sweet:

‘Come! dance now, Beren, dance with me!

For fain thy dancing I would see.

Come! thou must wood with nimbler feet...

his limbs were freed; his eyes alight

kindled with a new enchanted sight;

and to her dancing feet his feet

attuned went dancing free and fleet;

his laughter welled as from a spring

of music, and his voice would sing

as voices of those in Doriath...

And to strength the parallels, the moment of Edith’s dancing that Tolkien recalled was in 1917, not long after Tolkien returned from World War I. More than just the dancing itself, the full image of a man emerging from a hell of war that has consumed his friends to find a vision of beauty may be based on Tolkien’s own feelings.

Lúthien and Beren first meet each other for real at the beginning of spring, while the confrontation in Menegroth happens in the middle of summer. So they have had at least three or four months of nightly meetings by that time. While it’s certainly love at first sight, they have also had a decent amount of time to become well acquainted with each other.

A second thing that stands out about this canto is how much understated power there is in Doriath. It’s not displayed or flaunted so much as it is simply part of the realm and its people. Dairon casts a spell of silence upon the whole forest as a reaction to being lovelorn; in other stories this would be some phenomenal thing, some climax of a battle, but here’s it’s just a spurned suitor getting in a snit.

(The kind of song-associated magic we seen in the Leithian, from Daeron and Finrod and Lúthien, makes me wonder about Maglor. He’s named as an exceptional singer, but there is no mention of that ever being associated with this kind of enchantment. My own view is that what Men call ‘magic’ is bourne of an Elvish connection with the world that is far stronger than that of Men [Elves name them the Strangers for a reason]. The spirit and body of elves are also more tightly bound together than those of Men; I think that, for elves, doing evil impairs their connection to the world and reduces their ability to do things Men would regard as magical. We see an example of this far more starkly later in the Leithian, where Celegorm goes from having a unique ability to communicate with animals to being someone whom dogs specifically avoid and will not obey.)

As another illustration of how impressive Doriath is, in Menegroth we see that capturing light in gemstones is a technique known to the Sindar as well, and used to spectacular effect:

There a light

like day immortal and like night

of stars unclouded, shone and gleamed.

A vault of topless trees it seemed,

whose trunks of carven stone there stood

like towers of an enchanted wood

in magic fast forever bound,

bearing a roof whose branches wound

in endless tracery of green

lit by some leaf-imprisoned sheen

of moon and sun, and wrought of gems,

and each leaf hung on golden stems.

The creation of light-gems, then, is not something unique to the Noldor; it’s fairly common in the First Age. In addition to Doriath, it’s also mastered by the dwarves of Khazad-dûm, including capturing light in metal as well as gems (on silver necklaces they strung the flowering stars; on crowns they hung the dragon-fire; in twisted wire, they meshed the light of moon and sun - from Gimli’s song in LOTR). The Silmarils are unique and wondrous because the Treelight they contain has vanished from the world, but the concept of gems containing light is not rare in the time of The Silmarillion.

Continuing on to the plot! Thingol comes across very badly in this canto; in addition to the quest itself, he makes another attempt at using exact words (‘no blade nor chain his limbs shall mar’) to find a loophole that lets him imprison or execute Beren:

Yet captive bound by never a bar,

unchained, unfettered shalt thou be

in lightless labyrinth endlessly

that coils about my halls profound

by magic bewildered and enwound;

there wandering in hopelessness

though shalt learn the power of Elfinesse!

Beren does a splendid job of countering him, both in thus specific moment (‘What are thy mazes but a chain wherein the captive blind is slain? Twist not thy oaths, o elvish king, like faithless Morgoth!’) and in the more famous line in reaction to the Quest of the Silmaril (‘For little price do elven-kings theur daughters sell - for gems and rings and things of gold!’). But I think my favourite line of his here is his farewell to Lúthien, which manages to both be incredibly romantic and throw a tremendous amount of shade at Thingol’s issuing of a bride-price:

‘I will return, not thee to buy

with any jewel in Elfinesse,

but to find my love in loveliness,

a flower that grows beneath the sky.’

A pattern throughout the Leithian is that Beren is really very impressive when confronting elves. It’s only when dealing with powers on the level of Sauron and Morgoth that he’s out of his league, and really, who wouldn’t be?

An additional note on Thingol is the irony of him calling Beren ‘a stranger to both beech and oak’, given what I noted in the previous sections of the reread about Beren’s exceptional woodcraft and close connection with nature. It’s probable that some of those beeches and oaks are his close personal friends by this point! (I’m being literal. Treebeard mentions missing Doriath, and if he went there often it’s likely that there were a fair few Huorns there as well.)

As a final observation, it should be noted that Thingol has zero interest in actually getting a Silmaril; the entirety of his objective is to get rid of Beren (‘if hope there were that Beren should ever living fare to the Thousand Caves once more, I swear he should not ever have seen the air or light of heaven’s stars again’).

I like Melian’s line from The Silmarillion, which does not appear in the poetic version: ‘You have doomed either your daughter, or yourself.’ Either Beren fails in his errand (dies or is captured) and Lúthien dies of heartbreak; or he comes back with a Silmaril, which is disastrous for Doriath. But Thingol isn’t listening: he doesn’t acknowledge the strength and sincerity of Lúthien’s love for Beren, and so doesn’t believe he is doing her any lasting harm; and he never imagines the possibility that the Quest could succeed.

[missjosie27]

Year 3 Part 12- Change is Coming

Hello, everyone!

We have officially reached the end of Year 3 and what a ride it has been thus far. The amount of interest this story has generated despite Hogwarts Mystery being somewhat of a let down is very heartening. It's extremely fun to write, almost like writing therapy in a way.

That being said I'd like to give an update for the future which I will also put in the story notes. This story will not be updated again until the New Year. The reason being I have several other projects I'm trying to juggle not to mention I like to write the story ahead of time and then release it over a period of time.

So, for the month of November I will be writing other things which should be done by December in which I will begin Year 4 and hopefully have completed writing it by January. So I ask for your patience as a I try to get everything done in a very difficult time for me personally. I promise it will be worth the wait. I have lots of fun things planned for Year 4, including for a certain cute Slytherin girl ;)

Anyways, enjoy the chapter! David Grant will be back in no time!

Unlike the previous year, no Professor confronted David about the vaults in the aftermath of breaking into one. He expected McGonagall or Snape to confront him about it. The Potions Master did shoot him nasty glares but asked him no questions and was no worse than he usually was. Of everyone Pince was the most likely to try and either punish or get him to confess but nothing of the sort occurred. Oddly enough, he thought the irritable librarian might be side stepping him on purpose as she consistently avoided his gaze while he studied for his exams. But there was one similarity: as it was with the ice the boggarts seemingly vanished in the aftermath of their excursion. The curse was broken.

As for the other affairs at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had returned although no one knew just exactly where he’d gotten off to in the first place. There were rumors to be sure (including one where he allegedly slayed a Hungarian Horntail and another where he took a two week holiday at a muggle resort in France in order to study the magical properties of champagne) but none of them were substantiated. The third, soon to be fourth year, Gryffindor considered himself lucky that the Headmaster was not present during his latest escapade but nevertheless remained on his guard. Very little got by the old man despite his outwardly friendly, eccentric demeanor.

Exams were soon concluded as was the Quidditch season. Unfortunately for the Lions, Slytherin won their last matchup giving the snakes victory in the Quidditch Cup which was difficult to stomach given their resounding success the previous year. Charlie Weasley took it especially hard, but all were reassured by the words of Bill, who reminded everyone the same squad was returning next year and they had only lost their two games by a margin of 100 points. Despite the disappointing season Skye Parkin and Charlie remained two of the brightest young stars in Hogwarts.

Exams were formally concluded by the second week in June and to celebrate their marks among other things Bill also suggested they celebrate at the Three Broomsticks during the last visit to Hogsmeade. With a not so subtle wink he also made plans to invite everyone involved with the latest vault, signaling their latest triumph.

Though still mentally a bit fatigued, David thought the idea was a good one and supposed if there was any time to kick back and relax it was now. The map of the forest and the broken arrow were safely locked away in his trunk, and despite feeling like he was still far from finding Jacob, he was content for now that the boggarts had disappeared and Hogwarts returned to normalcy. Besides, he had a feeling a proper discussion regarding the latest vault was imminent at the Three Broomsticks.

All the same, it wasn’t a proper school year without one last confrontation with Merula Snyde.

It was a bright, sunny day, the kind that reinvigorates the bones and the soul when the weather turns warm in the highlands of Scotland. Happy to forgo the black robes of his uniform, he dressed himself in a white t shirt, red zip up jacket, blue jeans, and a pair of black vans he was quite fond of from a muggle company called ‘vans’ (he saw the advertisement on a commercial street in London and convinced his mother the value of such a purchase). Glancing one last time at the trunk he kept his things in he muttered to himself.

“Two vaults down. I wish finding you was simpler Jacob, we could be a family again if you just came back...why...why don’t you come back?”

Feeling a rare moment of tears surging through, David wiped them and buried the feelings just as he always did. He did not want to lose face in front of his friends nor indicate anything was wrong. A butterbeer and a few jokes would be enough to keep the pain at bay for at least a little while.

He left Gryffindor Tower which by now was largely devoid of anyone given it was a sunny day, exams were done, and most people were out and about. It was only when he reached the edge of the Great Hall that the Slytherin girl stepped out from the shadows.

“Grant.”

“Good Lord, we need to put a bell on you,” he quipped.

But Merula wasn’t laughing, though she almost never smiled (unless it there was malicious intent) this time there was a hard, stony faced expression that betrayed both frustration and deep seated anger.

“I know you found that vault and I know you broke that boggart curse,” she told him quietly.

“Good job, detective. Do you want a medal for special services for the school?”

It was quite remarkable how easy it was to get underneath her skin, but for once David didn’t have the energy to spend going back and forth with her. He was tired and in no mood to pull out his wand and duel her for the umpteenth time.

By the same token, he was prepared to all the same.

“I hope you enjoy your little victory with your pathetic friends. Savor it while you can,” Merula sneered at him.

“I will, thank you,” he responded coolly. “Can’t say the same for you though.”

The teenage Slytherin’s scowl morphed into a snarl as her fists clenched but she did not reach for her wand.

“Why?” she spoke through the clenched teeth. “Why do you always do this?!”

“You’re going to have to be more specific. I do a lot of things.”

“This!” Merula gestured wildly with her hands. “Every time we fight or battle you just respond with stupid wisecracks! And on top of that you always win!!”

David recognized straight away that this was not a typical tantrum from his long standing rival. Rather it was a plea, a desperate attempt to justify why things had gone the way they had. An answer for all of her failures.

“Merula, you’re looking at this the wrong way,” came his straightforward reply.

“And how should I be looking at it?” she snarled.

“I’m not going into these vaults so I can become rich or hold myself above everyone else...I’m doing it for my brother and for the friends who have my back.”

“I had friends!” Merula shot back. “Until you bloody well took Tulip and Barnaby from me!”

“I took no one from you,” David replied more forcefully. “They chose to join my side because you treated them like rubbish and didn’t feel like taking your orders anymore.”

But Merula refused to heed him.

“It’s your fault! Everything bad that’s happened to me is your fault!”

“Classic Merula Snyde,” the Gryffindor said with an angry sigh. “Can dish it out but can’t take it. Have you ever once thought that you might be wrong? Are you capable of caring about anything except yourself?”

“I-I...you-”

“You don’t know what a friend is because you’ve never had one,” he interrupted her. “I doubt you’ve ever cared to either.“

“Don’t pretend to know me, Grant!” Merula shouted. “There is nothing about my life you could possibly understand!”

“Maybe not, but I do know one thing: if you keep on doing the same thing over and over again expect the same results. And if attacking, insulting, and lying to me hasn’t worked thus far, you may want to consider that the source of your misfortune originates with yourself and not with me.”

For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, David Grant had left Merula Snyde speechless. No comeback, taunt, or rejoinder came from her mouth. Instead, it was sealed shut in a tight line and once more he could see that same hurt in her eyes. The soft lavender tortured by pain and anguish. Temptation to express sympathy became suddenly apparent but that emotion was pushed back. How were you supposed to feel sorry for someone who tried to make your life miserable just because of their own hubris?

She’s right, I don’t understand. I don’t think I ever will.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some people waiting for me at the Three Broomsticks. See ya next year.”

As he moved past Merula, he was prepared to engage her again if she attacked. But this time retaliation was absent as the Slytherin stood stock still, posture unchanging.

Taking the staircase down to the grounds, David wondered how long it would be before she moved again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thankfully, the Three Broomsticks was a much noisier but merrier environment and sure enough the entirety of his friends were there- Bill, Penny, Rowan, Ben, Tulip, Tonks, and Barnaby sitting at one of the corner booths. All were partaking in a round of butterbeer and to his pleasant surprise there was a full mug of it untaken as though it were waiting for him.

“Dave! You made it!” Rowan exclaimed. “What took you so long?”

“Had another run in with Merula,” he said frankly.

That caused the entire table to give pause.

“Did you have to-”

“Strangely enough she didn’t attack me this time,” he answered Ben straight away. “It was more like yelling and flailing angrily.”

Bill shrugged, edging the glass mug towards him.

“Well no need to worry about her now. Have a butterbeer. Madam Rosmerta said it was on the house.”

“Cheers, mate!” he thanked, raising his glass and taking a sweet sip.

“I propose a toast,” Tulip declared, raising her own glass. “All hail the conquering cursebreaker! Long may he reign!”

“Here, here!” the rest of the group shouted out.

David was genuinely touched.

“Thank you, all. I couldn’t have done it without any of you….though you might want to be careful where you say that. ‘Officially’ we weren’t anywhere near the vault, remember?”

“Nah don’t worry about that,” Tulip told him. “I’ve heard Pince was so embarrassed about the situation she hasn’t said a peep. Not even to Dumbledore.”

“The Professors aren’t dumb, they know that someone broke the curse on the vault since most of the boggarts vanished. I heard Professor Snape was on the warpath at the latest Prefect’s meeting,” Bill informed them.

“He is,” Barnaby confirmed taking a long swig. “Merula told him about Madam Pince, the Restricted Section, and the Cursed Vault.” A proud grin stretched across his face. “She forgot to mention the part where I defeated her and Ismelda.”

“So if he knows why isn’t he hauling my ass into his office right now tearing me a new one?” David asked.

“It’s like what Tulip said,” Tonks replied. “Pince is too embarrassed to admit what happened. Didn’t stop her from giving me detention through next year though.”

“There’s no proof,” Ben agreed. “Even I’m not worried.”

“Thought I think getting detention into next year might be a new Hogwarts milestone,” David said chuckling and raising his glass towards his pink haired friend. “Congrats.”

“That dungbomb was all for you, Dave. It was also totally worth it.”

“Feels good to get off scot free,” Tulip agreed. “Well almost all of us, anyway. I don’t want to say it was all due to my brilliant plan but…”

“What did you find in the vault, David?” Penny asked eagerly. It was a question she had clearly been dying to ask.

“We found a map of the Forbidden Forest and a broken arrow. So more clues just as it was last time.”

“I’d wager all my galleons and gobstone set that the next vault is in the Forbidden Forest. It won’t be like this year where we had to spend an enormous amount of time just figuring out where the location was. I know I’ll be reading about it all summer,” Rowan chimed in.

“You mentioned in our last private chat that the map had the letter ‘R’ in the top left corner,” Bill said. “Do you have any theories on that?”

David’s eyes scanned the table before lingering on Ben.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing….”

If his gaze was accusatory it was unintentional but it had the added effect of everyone else doing the same thing which unnerved the muggle born Gryffindor.

“Why is everyone looking at me?”

He has no idea. He can’t even remember David thought to himself.

“Ben...I don’t know how to explain this because you couldn’t remember anything...but last year we found a letter on your person addressed to me signed from someone named ‘R’.”

“We think they are possibly related given the circumstances,” Rowan added. “But it’s a suspicious part of this whole mystery. Surely you remember something, right?”

“But I don’t!” Ben protested. “I don’t know what happened. One moment I’m on the train looking for you guys and the next thing I remember was waking up in a huge block of ice freezing to death. You believe me, right Dave?”

There was no lie in the boy’s eye. Someone like Ben was practically incapable of harming or hurting another human being and he’d come quite a ways from the frightened first year he once was.

“I do, Ben. Don’t worry, we’re not accusing you of anything. Just trying to connect the small amount of clues we have.”

Ben smiled in appreciation but that was not the end of the topic.

“I hope you aren’t lying to protect us. We can’t help each other unless we know what’s going on,” Rowan said, a harshness to his tone that wasn’t usually there.

Ben’s reply was honest but somewhat cool as he looked Rowan straight in the eye.

“I’m not lying to protect you, I promise.”

Sensing some tension Bill quickly interjected with a positive smile.

“Let’s worry about mystery maps and unexplained memory loss for another day. We’re here to celebrate together and that’s what counts. Now how bout some more butterbeer?”

And so they did, talking, laughing, rejoicing, talking about many subjects. Of particular interest was Penny and Rowan’s regalement of their role in distracting Pince, which took on a whole new dimension when Tonks set off the dungbomb too close for comfort (“It took so long to get the smell out of my braids!” the blonde remarked). Also of note was the fact that the Slytherin Quidditch team celebrated their victory by pulling a prank on top of the Astronomy Tower: hanging a pair of knickers which no one knew how they managed to pull off (“I could have done way better!” Tonks claimed). All in all, it was the perfect end of the year party.

After what seemed like hours and into the mid afternoon, Hagrid made an unexpected but welcome appearance.

“Arigh’ there David?” he boomed coming up to the table. “Celebratin’ with one last butterbeer before yeh all go home fer the holidays?”

“Right you are, Hagrid! Come on, pull up a chair. Join us.”

“I’d love teh, but I was actually sent ter give yeh a message.”

David cocked an eyebrow.

“And what would that be?”

“Professor Dumbledore wants teh see yeh in his office,” the large gameskeeper replied looking a bit sheepish.

The group immediately went silent as they all gave looks of concern that all indicated the obvious question: did Dumbledore, even in his absence, know all along?

“If it makes yeh feel better, Dave the boggarts are almost all gone,” Hagrid tried to reassure him upon witnessing his distress.

“Thank you. But I best not keep him waiting.”

He reluctantly drained his glass, gave a goodbye to his friends and prepared to face the music.

Maybe Tonks will have a detention buddy next year

He didn’t want to think about a possible worst outcome.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Surprisingly, the password to Dumbledore’s office was the same as it was the previous year ‘lemon drop’ which made David wonder if it was an unintentional design flaw or genius due to the fact that most young witches and wizards had no idea what a lemon drop was. Either way, he didn’t think the upcoming conversation was going to be about muggle sweets as he stepped past the gargoyle and up the rotating stairs.

Unlike the last instance in which he’d been inside this office, the outline and appearance was not as wondrous a second time though the layout was still quite impressive. And on this occasion, Dumbledore didn’t waste any time delving into the matter.

“Ah, Mr. Grant. Please come forward.”

David did so, quite afraid that the Headmaster was not going to be so forgiving and direct him to pack his bags, his wand to be snapped in two. The warning at the beginning of the year echoed loudly in his head. However, whatever the old man was feeling he gave no indication as the bearded face and sparkling blue eyes remained passively neutral.

“This has become something of a tradition,” Dumbledore began. “Our annual opportunity to discuss life, love, endless heroics, and egregious misbehavior.”

“It seems so, sir.”

He was almost tempted to give up right then and there but if there was one thing he’d learned about Dumbledore in his time at Hogwarts it was to expect the unexpected. Therefore he decided to say little for now.

“I understand much transpired in my two week absence.”

“Yes, Professor. More than you could imagine.”

“Even the wildest imaginations could not have come up with the tales retold to me,” Dumbledore said, that familiar twinkle returning to his eye. “Dragons in the common rooms, mummies in closets, werewolves in greenhouses, and Voldemort himself lurking in every cupboard.”

You have no idea

“There was more than one report that even I made an appearance in boggart form.”

“I’m surprised people would be afraid of you sir….by the way does this mean the boggarts are all gone?”

A knowing look passed over Dumbledore’s features.

“I believe you have already made the observation for yourself, David. However, yes most of them are gone. It is important to note, however, that boggarts can never truly be banished because they are born of human emotion. Fortunately they can be of some use. Defense Against the Dark Arts classes can practice ‘Ridikkulus’ on the remaining ones for years to come.”

There was a slight pause in which the old man put something away into his magnificent desk.

“But I’m sure that’s nothing compared to what you faced in this latest vault. Please, tell me everything.”

So he did know. David supposed there wasn’t any use in playing dumb anymore as almost nothing got by the Headmaster in the first place. Yet, it was still amazing to him that he was able to glean his transgressions regardless.

“Sir, I-”

“There is no need to lie, David in case you were thinking of doing so. You are not in trouble for the time being. Please be honest.”

Reassuring enough

The third year Gryffindor acquiesced. Though he left out the details of some parts such as Tulip’s plan, his brother’s room, and the full extent of Bill’s involvement, he was truthful to the letter about what horrors lay inside and the fact that his boggart was You Know Who. Upon finishing his tale Dumbledore took a moment to muse before responding.

“This is all quite fascinating. It seems as though someone else tampered with the vaults which released the multitudes of boggarts.”

“Yes, sir. Originally, I did try to do as you asked at the beginning of the year.”

“And do you know the reason why your boggart takes the form of Lord Voldemort?”

Resisting the urge to shudder at the name, David debated on how to properly answer. Though he gave Tulip a truthful answer before, it was not the full truth, one that had only just come to bear by virtue of entering the vault.

“It’s not You Know Who himself. It’s more what he represents.”

“And what does he represent to you?”

Dumbledore’s eyes were piercing over his half moon spectacles but they were also gentle and understanding giving his pupil ample time to respond. When David did finally answer, it was difficult to get the words out.

“Guilt,” he said with tremendous effort. “Guilt over Jacob and why he left. The rumors after his disappearance about joining You Know Who were constant. If you want a reason why I went after the vaults again that’s the main one. To try and find him...I heard his voice speaking to me in the vault again...”

He couldn’t continue but there was no need to say more as Dumbledore nodded empathetically.

“Naturally. And if I had such information I would certainly share it. However, the mystery of Jacob Grant remains. While I cannot speak to his location I can speak to my personal theory that he yet lives...your bond is proof of that.”

David nodded in return but he was unable to discuss his brother any longer. Switching gears, there was a question he had for Dumbledore as well.

“Professor, you’ve gone at certain points in each of the past two years. Where exactly have you been?”

“Ah yes, I believe it is my turn to answer some questions,” the old man said with good humor. “I take it you’ve heard the wild rumors.”

“Almost every single one.”

“Then you must have discerned I was not in France to discern the magical properties of champagne though it is rather tasty I must say,” Dumbledore chuckled. “No, I have been seeking the world’s finest curse breaker. One who has had intimate experience with the cursed vaults. An exceptional pupil of mine back when my beard was shorter and browner.”

“Who is she?” David couldn’t help but ask.

“A woman by the name of Patricia Rakepick. At present she is currently exploring recently discovered ruins under the Brazilian wizarding school Castelobruxo.”

Familiarity with that name rang through the teen’s head.

“Rakepick...I know that name. I gave Bill a book about her adventures in cursebreaking. I had no idea.”

“Indeed, she is considered one of the magical community’s premiere experts on the subject. When the next year begins, she will be at Hogwarts to assist us with these vaults. I am most interested in hearing her opinion of them and of you.”

Dumbledore’s face then turned stern but the blue eyes did not lose all of its twinkle.

“You have directly disobeyed me, yet you have also once again broken a curse that threatened the livelihood and safety of everyone here. I am running out of excuses for you, David. If you repeat this offense again with a professional on staff, I will not be able to insulate you from further punishment.”

This was the Headmaster at his most serious and despite his general easy going demeanor it was not lost on David that this was also the only man You Know Who ever feared. It would not do to openly argue.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

Dumbledore gestured towards his left, indicating a bright red and yellow bird, sitting on a perch in all its splendor.

“Actions are far better than apologies. Take Fawkes for example. From time to time the Phoenix is reborn- fresh and rejuvenated. You have that power too. Take the summer, and when you return to Hogwarts, start fresh.”

David nodded emphatically taking in the beauty of the Phoenix.

“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.”

The old man’s faithful smile was back again.

“In the meantime, take one hundred points for Gryffindor. I daresay that might take the sting out of losing the Quidditch Cup this year.”

“You don’t know the half of...I mean, thank you, Professor.”

Dumbledore laughed heartily.

“I can always count on a whimsical remark from you in our conversations, David. However, there is one more thing I wish to tell you. Though the Vault of Fear has been broken it’s legacy remains ever present in our lives. Fear causes human beings to act in ways they would not normally, and though the Voldemort you fought was only a boggart, the real Dark Lord used the exact same method to gain followers and seize power. Remember that it is only by confronting our worst nightmares that we rise above them and truly become better people. No doubt that is one of many lessons you’ve taken this year.”

The wisdom was not lost on the young Gryffindor. He did not need to be afraid of Jacob or him joining You Know Who. The only method now was to move forward in continuing the search for his lost brother.

“Yes, sir.”

Feeling he was dismissed, David turned to leave but not before one last telling remark from the Headmaster.

“David, my last bit of wisdom was not aimed solely for you alone. There are many other students who could stand to start fresh next year. Including one miss Merula Snyde.”

He didn’t respond to that and didn’t need to. The implication was clear enough. Everyone was going to go through some changes in the coming months. What kind had still yet to be determined.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dumbledore’s last second gesture allowed the Gryffindors to eek by the Slytherins for the House Cup, which did not sit well with the snakes, however given that it was the end of the year, it was too late to do much about it. The party in the tower the night before graduation was legendary. So much so that Angelica Cole even drunkenly admitted how much she cared for and would miss him.

“You’ll be a great prefect,” she slurred, firewhiskey in hand.

David wasn’t overly concerned with that. The naming of prefects for his peer group was still another year away and he knew that Rowan or Charlie were the most likely candidates anyway. At the forefront of his mind was the long summer ahead, a time of relaxation and fun for most people, but for the Grant family there would be little to no vacations. His father would stay stoically silent, his mother constantly hen pecking...only his grandfather seemed to truly sympathize with him.

I reap the consequences of Jacob’s absence, he thought to himself at one point. Mum and Dad are incapable of seeing that

Still, he was able to enjoy the train ride home with his friends, which was a small consolation for the isolated, controlled environment he could expect upon his return to Bath. He scanned the prophet for any signs of beat writers catching wind of the boggart problem at Hogwarts but saw nothing, not even from the notorious Rita Skeeter. Breathing a sigh of relief, he supposed that unless Dumbledore lettered his parents, they would never know he had disobeyed them as well.

“Are you okay, David?” Rowan asked.

He tossed aside the newspaper and rubbed his eyes.

“Yeah sorry, mate. Was just finishing up checking the Quidditch scores.”

“Seems like something else is on your mind, though.”

His best friend knew him better than most people, so he supposed it was fitting he’d realize not everything was settled inside (least of which the eggs and bacon he consumed that morning).

“This year was the most interesting one yet,” he said aloud as he looked out the window. “And yet I feel next year will be even more so. My gut tells me a lot is going to change.”

“It may,” Rowan acknowledged. “But it may not be all bad. You’ll see.”

David turned around and observed the group in front of him- Ben, Charlie, Tulip, and Penny, his hazel blue eyes dilating slightly at the two girls, noticing just how pretty they looked.

“Yeah...maybe you’re right.”

“Besides if there’s one thing I can count on it’s cursebreaking adventures with my best friend.”

David clapped an appreciative hand on Rowan’s shoulder, warmth rushing through his heart.

“Thanks, mate...you’re just interested in reading about the Forbidden Forest this summer aren’t you?”

Rowan laughed at the joke.

“You caught me. Now come on, let’s go play some exploding snap.”

And so they did, and David was able to enjoy the last few sunny hours on the train. All the while he was able to heed the lesson this latest vault had taught him. It did no good to live in fear, especially when you had friends to count on.

But as it was every year, the ride back to Platform nine and three quarters was always quicker than the journey from there. Soon, everyone was unloading their luggage, saying hello to their families against the backdrop of the sunkissed day and over the roar of the hissing steam emanating from the train.

“Another vault down, another one to go,” Bill told him with a grin, shaking his hand. “Can’t wait to do this again next year.”

“As always, Bill. And who knows maybe we can finally get Charlie involved.”

“If you manage to get him away from dragons and Quidditch you might have a shot,” the elder Weasley laughed. “My folks are waiting in the parking lot, but make no mistake mum is very keen to meet you. We have to invite you for Christmas some time.”

“I’d be honored.”

Next was Tulip who had that ever present mischievous smirk but it was much softer in the presence of a farewell.

“Take care, David Grant. You’re a very intriguing person, and I can safely say I’m very glad I met you.”

“I could say the same about you, Tulip,” he responded genuinely. “Nothing we did this year would have happened without you.”

The eccentric Ravenclaw responded with something quite unexpected. She kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand once more.

“You’re many things, David Grant. Boring least of all, but most of all a good person. Can’t wait to make more mischief in the fall.”

She winked at him and ran off to join two people, which looked like her parents, one was a stern looking Japanese man with a bowler hat, the other an Irish woman with flowing red hair who also gave no visible emotion on her face. David felt a pang of empathy go through him. His parents may be strict, but he could only imagine what Tulip went through during the summer. He made a point of reference to write to her. Something told they’d both need it.

After exchanging goodbyes with Rowan and Ben, Penny was the last to see him off.

“Summer always seems dreadfully long even if it is my favorite time of year,” Penny told him. “Feel free to write me any time.”

“You know I will,” David said with a smile. “I’ll need all the post I can get.”

The blonde girl rubbed his arm encouragingly.

“It’s not forever, Dave. We’ll see each other again before you know it. Enjoy the holiday with your family!”

David supposed she didn’t know the true origins of his post semester blues, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her it was his family that was precisely the problem.

“I will, Penny. Thank you.”

For the second time in as many instances, he received a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, causing him to go red and touch the spot where he received the affectionate gesture, which made Penny giggle.

“See you next year, cursebreaker of Hogwarts.”

The last thing David had expected was two kisses on the cheek from two of his best female friends and it made him feel quite funny on the inside.

He had little time to dwell on these feelings however as his parents came into view a brown haired man with a goatee and a short blonde woman, waving and walking towards him.

“David!” his mom gushed, giving him an enormous hug. “So glad to see you safe and well. How are you? Did your exams go well?”

“Now, now let him breathe Heather,” his dad said with a light chuckle. “He just got off the train.” He ruffled his son’s dark brown hair in a show of affection. “It is good to see you safe and well, David.”

“Do you have your things unloaded and ready to go? Are you hungry?”

“Don’t worry, mum. I’m all set,” he said quickly to reassure her. Not even a minute in he was already tired of her smothering.

“Very good then, can’t blame a mother for asking.”

“I rented out a ‘Chevro’ something,” his father mentioned to him as they began to walk away from the platform. “Yank automobile. Runs pretty well, I know we can apparate but I’m thinking of buying one for myself. Dead useful these things.”

“John, please keep your voice down lest the entirety of muggle London know what we are.”

“Apologies, dear.”

His mother turned to face him and beamed a great smile but as it was since his brother disappeared there was a subtle sadness and anxiety within them.

“I have good news. We’re going to visit my side of the family this summer at their house for a get together. My brother is having another baby soon. I hope you’re ready for it.”

David thought back to his friends, his Professors, Dumbledore, the map, the broken arrow and the lively face of Jacob whispering to never give up. He looked up at his parents, two people whose lives were still run by fear...fear of losing him.

“Yes,” he replied. “I am.”

[bigskydreaming]

Ok so everyone and their mama is being resurrected on Krakoa and so many people in marvel have gone through the revolving door that is death. So please tell me just one little thing. Where is Irene Adler? Is she still dead? If not, then why is she only just now being brought back? Why is one of the most iconic imo queer couples still suffering? #GiveMystiqueHerWife #LetMyWLWBeHappy #BringDestinyBack

She is still dead, but she hasn’t been forgotten - this is actually a long-running subplot Marvel laid down, though I’m with you in wanting them to Get To It already. My guess is we’ll start to see more building towards this particular plotline once X of Swords is done, though it won’t actually be the NEXT major storyline. Just a hunch, but my bet is the next focal storyline the X-books concentrate on after X of Swords wraps up is the conflict brewing with the Children of the Vault, after Darwin, Laura and Synch got taken prisoner by them in one of the earlier issues of the core X-Men title. 

Alternatively, the next major focus is going to be on what’s brewing under the surface with Vulcan (though its also possible these are going to be one and the same. Gabe’s stories have always been linked with Darwin’s more than anyone else, and given that he’s front and central to whatever’s front and central with whatever’s coming with the CotV, it wouldn’t surprise me if our next face to face with Gabe’s ‘dark side’ ties into that same story. Ugh, Gabe going all Emperor Vulcan again and teaming up with the Children of the Vault....now there’s a scary thought. But dammit, just let Gabe be good, I’m so tired of this ‘there’s something just innately dark and evil inside of him’ crap, bleh. BUT I DIGRESS).

But anyway, the thing with Destiny is actually an ongoing subplot. Back in Powers of X, it was explicitly ‘decided’ by Moira, Xavier and Magneto that they were actively going to try and keep any precogs from being resurrected on Krakoa, including - and ESPECIALLY Irene - because basically, they’re afraid of the precogs, and the fact that there’s no hiding from them Xavier’s big secret.....for all his big talk, he doesn’t actually know what the HELL he’s doing. The thing they’re hiding from everyone else is that they actually already TRIED the Great Krakoa experiment at least once before, or at least to some degree, though we do know they’ve done at least some things differently this time around. 

But that was the future shown in Powers of X, where Moira ended up living 1000 years into the future before dying and resetting the timeline....and coupled with the fact that the three of them believe that they’re now on the LAST of Moira’s predicted eleven lifetimes, this is their last chance to ‘get it right’ so to speak, and to find a way forward that allows the mutant race to survive and flourish past any of the endpoints Moira’s previous lives and foreknowledge have shown....

Basically, the fear seems to be that if everyone else on Krakoa knew this background for how they came up with all of this and the futures they’re trying to avoid, as well as the fact that quite simply, they do not know if the course they’ve charted this time is going to be any more capable of circumventing the doom they keep butting up against lifetime after lifetime....this would undermine all faith in them and what they’re doing, and fracture the tenuous alliances that so far have everyone from the X-Men to Apocalypse and Sinister and Selene all working side by side. 

They ‘built’ modern Krakoa according to blueprints gleaned from actual knowledge of the future.....but they’re afraid of competing blueprints getting in the way of the road they’ve taken everyone down and derailing their own plan of action. Especially if everyone else were to find out that for all their confidence, they can’t say with certainty the road this time around is going to actually lead where they’re trying to go....and that in fact, they actually have a track record of a good half a dozen previous attempts where they got it disastrously wrong.

So even though Xavier explicitly promised Raven that he would resurrect Irene in exchange for her cooperation and her place on the Quiet Council.....he, Magnus and Moira have been shown meeting in secret to say that they are actually deadset against that happening. But Raven is no fool of course, and she’s suspected from the start that Xavier’s just playing her, and he has no intention of ever resurrecting Irene. (I mean, she was married to the man once, after all, as blergh as that Bendis-bite was. I may think it made for a spectacularly shitty and pointless story, but just saying, few people know how much shit Xavier is full of better than Mystique does). 

So we’ve been treated to scenes of Raven brooding deep in her underground Krakoan lair over a glance of wine and an angsty look at Irene’s old mask, vowing “I’ll get you yet, Xavier, and your little dog too,” because idk, why pass up a good Wicked Witch of the West allusion when its right there. Mystique works hard for her Brand, let her enjoy it.

She definitely knows the game that’s afoot, and she has no intention of letting Xavier get away with it. So she’s very clearly scheming on how to circumvent him and get the Five to resurrect Irene without Xavier’s help....but that’s easier said than done. She either needs leverage to force his hand, while still probably not knowing for sure WHY he’s stalling or trying to avoid bringing back Irene, and thus having no way to judge exactly HOW deadset against it he is, and thus how great of leverage she’d actually need to pull that off...or else, she needs a telepath she can trust (or y’know, trust that she has them securely in her pocket) but who also is strong enough to take Xavier’s place in the resurrection/brain download process....as well as needing access to the Cerebro archives where the back-ups of everyone’s consciousnesses are stored. 

(Incidentally, part of how Xavier’s been stalling here is he’s claimed once or twice that he only has back-ups stored of mutant consciousnesses from the point when he started actually preserving them, and Irene died BEFORE he started doing this so he just doesn’t have her in Cerebro, but this is pretty blatantly a lie. He brought back Petra and Sway, after all, and they very definitively died LONG before David killed Irene on Muir Island back in the day).

But yeah, I’m as impatient as anyone to see Irene back in action in all her chaotic cryptic glory, and for Raven/Irene to finally fucking rise the way they deserve. And oh holy hell is Raven’s wrath going to be an absofuckinglutely beautiful thing once she finally has her proof that Xavier - her ex-husband, lol, oh X-Men soap opera tangles - has been lying and scheming to keep her wife dead all this time. Like she’s literally said the words “I will burn Krakoa to the ground,” and I mean, its Raven. When she talks about razing Rome to ashes, she’s not joking. The woman does not bluff. She lies, she deceives, she steals, but she never ever fucking bluffs. There’s a big storm coming here and this particular one’s name is Hurricane Raven, not Ororo Munroe. I want it, and I want it nooooooooooow, lol, but I can’t actually claim that this has been overlooked by Marvel rather than just allotted a time table that isn’t to my liking because - 

OH I DON’T KNOW ITS NOT LIKE WE HAVEN’T ALREADY BEEN WAITING FOR THE RETURN OF IRENE ADLER FOR 84 BAJILLION FUCKING YEARS ALREADY, LIKE LOGAN HAS LITERALLY GONE TO HELL AND BACK A DOZEN TIMES SINCE IRENE FIRST EXITED PURSUED BY BEAR AND JEAN’S ASCENDED AND DE-PHOENIXED SO MANY TIMES DEATH HAS BASICALLY HANDED HER A PUNCH CARD THAT’S REDEEMABLE FOR ONE FREE RESURRECTION AFTER ITS ALL FULL AND C’MOOOOOOON. 

I mean.

WILDSIDE is back. After dying in Neverland in Tieri’s Weapon X run, RICHARD FREAKING GILL was brought back to life before IRENE FUCKING ADLER, I would simply like to express my undying HOOOOOOWWWWW??? to that. 

BUT.

I.

DIGRESS.

Ahem. Sorry, I just have very strong opinions on the subject of Irene, lololol. And well, everything. I probably have strong opinions on kumquats and I can’t actually recall at the moment if I’ve ever even eaten one or if I’m just particularly fond of that word and the saying of it. Look, you get what I mean.

Anyway, yeah. We’re getting Irene back eventually. There’s absolutely no way we’re not at this point. Even my cynicism can’t pretend otherwise. They haven’t just left Chekhov’s gun locked and loaded sitting on the mantlepiece here, they commissioned an entire arsenal of Chekhov’s guns and renamed them Irene Adler’s guns in her honor and left them all gift-wrapped on the front porch. Its coming. Its just not. Here YET. (Cut to me being a five year old on a long car ride are we there yet are we there yet are we there yet how bout now - )

So yeah. That’s the scoop, the skinny, the shit(ake mushroom) on this particular subject.

Incidentally, on a related note, I am still of the opinion that pretty much all of Powers of X was one giant red herring, and the real direction all of this is building towards, with Moira, with the Five and the resurrection protocols.......ultimately, I think its all really been about IRENE’S machinations from the start, and Moira and Charles have actually been marching to the beat of HER drum ever since the very first time Irene and Moira encountered each other way back in Moira’s fourth lifetime.

Basically, I think it allllllllll really comes back to the fact that....

Irene Adler is a beautiful fucking liar who lies as only Raven Darkholme’s One True Love possibly can, and she played Moira like a fiddle from Day Fucking ONE.

Full theory on that can be found here:

https://bigskydreaming.tumblr.com/post/188290623176/so-house-of-x-2plot-hole-or-lie-when-destiny

[shadowthrone-ammanas]

Request prompt: The reason why Hat Kid decided to steal back her Time Pieces from the Empress wasn't JUST to get back what was hers, but she was also afraid that the cat crime lady was going to turn on her (much like how Mustache Girl, the bird movie director(s), and the Snatcher turned on her when it came to the magical hourglasses).

Thank you for the request! The immense amount of salt I have for how Nyakuza Metro ends really comes through on this one. Also, the return of Venomous Hat Kid entirely to cater to said saltiness.

Betrayal

Hat Kid probably would’ve enjoyed working for the Empress if it wasn’t for a couple key things. The main one being the whole stealing the Time Pieces from her – particularly annoying because if Hat Kid wasn’t up against an entire gang, she would’ve destroyed anyone who dared attempt such a thing. But on a much smaller note, working for the Empress would’ve eventually led to Hat Kid getting betrayed again because that’s how people on this planet seemed operate.

It was annoying and frustrating but Hat Kid wouldn’t have cared so much if the Empress didn’t have a whole gang of cats backing her up. If she sicked them all on Hat Kid, she wouldn’t stand a chance against them and would be forced to run away. Not because she was a coward though, recognizing when one couldn’t possibly win a fight and thus avoiding it was not cowardice or shameful. She’d still far and above prefer not to have to do any running away though because it felt cowardice and shameful in the moment.

So, both to get back the Time Pieces and to be the person doing the betraying this time she did some sleuthing. Like a fool, the Empress kept the Time Pieces in her vault in the jewelry shop, an easy place to get into. She had to wait until the shop was closed to get in though.

She returned in the dead of night. The Metro was much quieter and felt empty by comparison even if there were still plenty of people wondering around. There were even still a few food carts open for business. It’d be nice to stop at one but she had an epic betrayal to get to. Though was it really ‘epic’ if she was just going to steal back the Time Pieces and then leave? She probably wasn’t even going to fight the Empress even if she would really like to. Not very epic at all. Oh well though, it was her first time betraying someone, it didn’t have be epic.

Getting into the jewelry store was far too easy. A trap perhaps? But Hat Kid made it all the way into the vault and started gathering up her Time Pieces with nothing happening. Maybe the Empress was just cocky and sure of everyone’s fear of her and thus didn’t bother with good security. Well, she’d know better after this.

Hat Kid was pocketing the final Time Piece when…

“You!”

She jumped and turned to see the Empress standing in the doorway. Now might be a good chance to beat her up! But… she might have her goons around, probably did in fact. Getting cornered in a money vault by a horde of angry cat people was not how Hat Kid wanted to die. Ugh! Instead she switched her hat to the time stop hat and dashed past.

She didn’t make a clean get away though because said horde of angry cat people were waiting outside. The Empress’ call over the intercoms to catch Hat Kid only sealed the deal on Hat Kid having to run for her life. It was frustrating but she had no choice. Her ‘epic’ betrayal turned out to be quite lame as it ended in a dumb chase scene – chase scenes would only be fun if she was the on doing the chasing.

She ran and ran, hating every second of it because she wanted to fight but ugh. There were a few times she was tempted to anyway. Going down in battle wouldn’t be a bad death but she wasn’t ready to die yet and as long as there was a chance of escaping to fight again another day, she had to take it.

Eventually she did get away. Or at least she thought she had until she ended up on an elevator with the Empress. It was just two of them though, no hordes of angry cats. So as the Empress spoke smugly about something that wasn’t worth paying attention to, Hat Kid reared back and sprung at her, aiming for the face and not evening bothering the umbrella.

The Empress cut off midsentence with a hiss, raising an arm to block Hat Kid. Which was the exact thing Hat Kid was after; she grasped the Empress’ arm with both hands and sunk her teeth in. The satisfying taste and sensation of blood flooded her mouth as she injected almost her entire store of venom into the bite.

The Empress clawed at her face, missing clawing out her eyes by only a few centimeters. Not wanting to push her luck, Hat Kid let go, landing on her feet. If the venom wasn’t effective, she might be in trouble since dodging would be difficult in a space as small as an elevator but she pulled out her umbrella anyway. She was prepared to fight to the death if she had to.

“You bit me,” the Empress hissed, offended.

“Peck-neck,” Hat Kid replied as she lifted her free hand, extending only the middle finger. It probably wasn’t a rude gesture on this planet but she didn’t care.

Regardless, it enraged the Empress. She attacked with another claw swipe that Hat Kid barely raised the umbrella in time to block. As she reared back for another attempt, Hat Kid jumped forward, jabbing the point of the umbrella into the Empress’ midsection as hard as she could.

She hissed as she side stepped, swiping at Hat Kid again. Her move was slower though and it hit the umbrella with noticeably less force. And her face was contorted with pain more than anger. The venom was working! Soon she should be incapacitated! Hat Kid had won! Her betrayal was epic after all!

“What did you do?” the Empress finally hissed after a third failed attack. She hugged her bleeding arm to her chest instead. It was swelling enough for it to be visible. “Poison?”

“No, silly, it’s venom,” Hat Kid corrected her. What kind of person didn’t know the difference?

The Empress’ eyes widened. She wasn’t whimpering though, probably because she was tough. “Is it deadly?”

“It killed the Mafia goon I bit a while ago so probably. It took hours though so you still got a little time left. I’d tell you to enjoy it but I know you won’t. But I win! I betrayed you before you could betray me so ha, take that!” She whacked the Empress with the umbrella again, knocking her over this time. She pulled back the umbrella again; she’d be merciful and knock the Empress unconscious before she died or maybe snap her neck. She’d done it to herself by cornering Hat Kid but she didn’t deserve to suffer the way the Mafia goon had. Before Hat Kid could even start the swing though, the doors pinged and opened, revealing a pair of cops about to get on.

“Uh… hi,” Hat Kid smiled at them as she quickly put the umbrella behind her back. “This isn’t…”

“Don’t you assholes dare let her get away with killing me!” the Empress hissed. “Catch her and get an antivenom off her now!”

Hat Kid froze before shouting the first thing that came to her mind, “You’ll never take me alive coppers.” It’s what people said in the movies so it had to be good because she certainly didn’t have time to deal with getting in trouble with the law on this planet.

 -

They took her alive of course. They had guns and Hat Kid was cornered in an elevator so running away wasn’t possible. Before carting her off to jail they had the paramedics come for the Empress. The paramedics made Hat Kid bite a weird thing and expel the last of her stored venom, supposedly so they could try to make an antivenom to save the Empress. Though if they wanted to save her, they’d be better off cutting her arm off before the venom spread too far because as far as Hat Kid knew there was no cure for the venom. She even told them that.

After that though, they took Hat Kid to the police station. Once there they took all her stuff and put her in her own little holding cell because she was a kid and they didn’t know what to do with her. At her insistence, they did give her food though. Not as much as she wanted or needed after how much venom she’d spent but it would have to do for now.

“I demand my one phone call now,” she shouted as soon as she was done.

The nicer of the two cops who’d arrested her returned. “I thought you said you didn’t have any parents or legal guardians.” They’d asked her for her parents’ number upon arriving at the station. “We were trying to figure out what to do with you because of that.”

“I don’t but I do have friends.”

The cat narrowed his eyes. “Are any of them adults?”

“Yep. So phone call please.”

“You should’ve said that sooner but fine, let’s go.” He unlocked the cell and led her out into the hallway. He led her back to the front desk to use the phone there; apparently, she wasn’t even allowed to walk by the cells holding the other criminals. How unfair, she’d wanted to see them.

Whatever though, she picked up the phone and dialed Snatcher’s number. When she’d gifted him that cellphone, she never would’ve thought she’d need to call it under these circumstances. He had a tendency not to answer sometimes though so… He picked up on the third ring.

“Uh… how’d you get this number?” he asked because he wouldn’t know who it was because she wasn’t using her phone.

“It’s me,” she said, pleased to hear a familiar voice. “Howdy!”

“Oh, of course, it’s you. Why are you calling on a phone that isn’t yours?”

“Well, it’s kind of a long story. But uh… the end result is I’m at the Metro Police Station because I’m in trouble with the law for possibly maybe probably killing someone in front of the cops. So I’d very much appreciate it if you came down and helped me out.”

There was a beat of silence before Snatcher laughed, loud enough to make her flinch a little. “Wow kiddo,” he said when he was done. “You’re a murderer. I didn’t think you had it in you, good job.”

“I didn’t say I murdered her. She might live, they’re trying to save her anyway. She did deserve it though and if she does die it’s her own fault. But that’s beside the point, could you please come help. You’re a lawyer and stuff so I know you can.”

“Hmm… fine, kiddo I’ll come bail you out or deal with any court stuff if it’s needed but only because I want to know what happened and so I can see your first time in jail because knowing you, that’s probably going to be a common occurrence.”

“Thank you! See you soon!” Hat Kid hung up and looked up at the cops watching her. “My BFF is on his way. He’s lawyer so he should be able to handle all of whatever it is that needs handled hear.” And maybe she’d actually get to see him do real lawyer stuff that wasn’t just contracts. That’d be cool. Regardless though, she had full confidence that this situation was basically already fully handled. Hopefully the paramedics and doctors would find a way to save the Empress though because Bow would be real sad if she learned Hat Kid had killed a kitty cat.

For this drabble event.

[woodleighresidences84-blog]

Resident Retention Vs Apartment Marketing

Resident retention is generally the forgotten factor in property management, while the art of apartment marketing and leasing to new prospects continues to be studied, sliced, diced and pureed by the apartment industry to find optimal strategies of getting people in the door. In fact, the better a community is at apartment marketing and leasing, the more it can mask its shortcomings on the resident retention side. So much effort is made on the leasing side of the business that our front line troops are called "Leasing Professionals." Focusing on Leasing is not a bad idea; however, neglecting the other half of your business can alienate your residents, cause high turnover, and severely impact your bottom line.

Which is more important: Resident Retention or Apartment Marketing?

When we discuss the value of Resident Retention, it is not to say that apartment marketing isn't also vitally important. In other words, to improve retention, we should not sacrifice leasing. That said, an increase in retention is vastly more beneficial than an increase in leasing. This should not be a surprising concept. When you compare a new resident to an existing resident, the existing resident is much more profitable, with hardly any make-ready costs and no loss due to vacancy. Additionally, a long-term renter is much more likely to refer friends and coworkers than a new renter would. Know more here woodleigh residences 

When you see the difference in profitability between the two groups, it is shocking how much more we spend on prospects. While prospects and new residents get the benefit of cheaper rent and extensive marketing, existing residents, those who pay the bills, often get the short end of the stick. This difference can result in alienation of your current residents, a situation you should strongly avoid.

Why is resident retention not on the radar?

Even though we all understand the concept of resident retention, surprisingly little is known about how to accomplish it. Therefore, most communities choose to either ignore it all together or choose methods that do not achieve the expected goals. Let's first look into a few of the most common mistakes made in current retention "techniques."

Customer Service and Maintenance

Let me be clear about this: Customer service and maintenance are NOT resident retention programs. We constantly hear how important these two items are, which is completely correct. However, instead of going above and beyond, these items are an expectation, not a perk. Especially for Class A and Class B properties, residents do not see strong maintenance and customer service as a luxury item that they should be impressed with. They instead see these items as a required part of living at your community. Consider a restaurant advertising that its food is served warm. Isn't that expected at a restaurant? And if that is the best trait the restaurant can provide, would you really expect the food to be that great? For a community to advertise a feature that should be standard, they are actually implying that the rest of their service is not too impressive!

The infamous summer party...

Summer parties can be a fun perk, but are rarely a great investment. First of all, summer parties can be quite expensive if food is offered, generally ranging from $1,500 to $3,000 for a 300-unit community. Ironically, you save money when you get a low resident turnout at these events. Imagine the cost if 100 percent of your residents attended! However, more than likely, you will only have around 25 percent of your residents show up. Of those, it's likely that only about 25 percent has a lease coming up to make an impression on the renewal decision. Therefore, you are impacting only 6 percent of your "target audience." This means for an average community of 300 units, you are spending roughly $2,000 to reach 18 residents - that's $111 per resident! Even if the party influences a few others that renew later in the year, investments in these parties do not justify the reward.

So what are some programs we can implement?

First of all, know your community. Fair Housing laws limit how much demographic information we can keep about our residents, but you should at least have an idea of the different faces of your community. Additionally, instead of having one giant one-size-fits-all party, you can coordinate several smaller, targeted parties throughout the year. Having more frequent parties allows you to target different demographic groups in your community at different times instead of "putting all your eggs in one basket" approach of large summer events. Spacing these events throughout the year will also guarantee that your events coincide with all your residents' renewal periods, thus giving you the largest impact possible. Here a few ideas that can you can explore that are less expensive:

Older Residents

Bridge or Mah Jongg Night Dinner Rotation - This can be quite popular! Have a sign up period for singles or couples. These groups then take turns rotating among their apartments hosting small dinner parties for each other. Singles Crowd Poker Night at the Clubhouse (for prizes instead of money) Networking Night Dance Classes Sporting events Children Friendly Ice Cream Social Kite Day Scavenger Hunt Also, remember that you have purchasing power! Most events around town offer group rates that you can pass along to your residents. This can make them feel part of an exclusive club with great deals all the time!

The future of resident retention

Have you heard the term "Resident Portal?" If you haven't, keep reading! A Resident Portal is essentially a website for your residents, adding a true social element to your community - consider it a "digital clubhouse." If you haven't noticed, the vast majority of residents have a social presence online. Resident Portals take that concept and merge it with traditional apartment properties to create a true "community" environment. A basic Resident Portal includes a community calendar of events, utility sign-up features, maintenance requests, and online rent payment. However, a few resident portals offer much more in terms of a community social experience. These expanded resident portals range from about $125/month to $200/month for a 300 unit community, meaning you can get an entire year of service for the same price of one summer party. When done properly, resident social interaction can create strong emotional bonds between your residents, resulting in impressive improvements in your retention rates.

Summing it all up.

Ultimately, the most successful strategy in retaining your residents involves making them care about their community. No matter how much you love your vaulted ceilings and granite countertops, emotional attachments between people have a much greater impact on retention. Fostering a sense of community through social interactions can vastly improve these attachments, which will directly impact retention rates, and more importantly, your bottom line!

[edenofmonsters]

nyctophobia | one.

nyc·to·pho·bi·a | [nik-toh-foh-bee-uh]

definition: 

extreme or irrational fear of the night or of darkness.

subject: 

wraith | gasouel

notes: 

originally documented january 22nd, 2018

6,550 words | 01 part | s. f. w.

a seemingly harmless blackout proves to be an experience you have never considered existing beyond horror films. a monster lurks within the darkness, and it ensues a morbid game of tormenting you while vulnerable.

*✧🌙✧*

Nichole has taken the liberty of your phone pass-code to snap an atrocious selfie and appoint it as her own contact portrait. Truth be told, you don’t have the heart nor incentive to change it. It had taken time to ignore the scrutiny thrown your way, many times which consisted of ducking out of vicinity and of the like. At least her ringtone compensates for the source of embarrassment and entertainment. The wistful chorus of Patrick Swayze’s “She’s Like the Wind” echoes through the wood of your nightstand, a patterned vibration joining the melody. It’s tempting to ignore her call, especially since it’s already 11 p.m. on the night before a breakfast date with Mom.

Before deciding to answer her, you rid your mouthful of minty froth and smear on an even coat of face clay, allowing the chorus to play twice more, both times you sing along to. Either someone is dying on her end or she’s drunk, neither reason serving as good intention to call you. Once finished, you amble into your room and flounce on your bed with all the flourish of a tired individual.

“Babe, the bridal shower is next week, and I still haven’t got a dress!” she says the instant the call connects.

The volume of her voice makes you grimace, her dilemma even more so. Familiar with her procrastination tendencies, you aren’t as surprised as the next person would be. In no way does it lessen the degree of the problem, sadly. You determine how you’ll fare in the morning if the call hypothetically escalates past an hour.

Picking dirt from your nails, you ask, “Please tell me you have potential selections?”

The white, digital numbers of your alarm clock continue ticking closer to midnight as she sends you pictures of dresses she modeled in earlier that afternoon and lists off the pros and cons she’s found with each. You would make this task easier on the both of you with physical moral support, and by that you mean you would have forced her to buy one before the trip, but Nichole is out of state for her sister’s special event, and you happened to deplete your slot of vacation days for the year. After some back and forth bickering, you finally convince Nichole to narrow it down to a few dresses. With a vow to get back to you when she decides on the winning dress, the two of you exchange an “I love you” and “goodnight”.

Sliding out of bed, you make way to the bathroom and rinse off the crusted paste of your now creased face mask with lukewarm water. Once cleansed, you clear excess droplets from your eyes with a single wipe and freeze when pitch blackness greets you. Your heart thrashes for a second. After experimental flicks of the light switch, it's obvious the power is out. This aspect isn’t entirely surprising; it’s been raining all day, the menacing storm threatening to down the roof with the harsh pelting. You’ll just have to make do without charging your phone tonight or an alarm.

Blinded helpless, you use your outstretched hands to inch through the dark, hoping to not stub your toe on anything. By a miracle, you find your way to your door, fingers touching the worn wood.

Did I…close the door? You pause, filing through recent memories. I know I left it open. Not willing to ponder the oddness of it all right now, you settle for blaming the blackout for disorienting you.

That night, you have a peculiar dream about a spectral figure hovering at a fair distance. You may be standing in the abyss of your thoughts, but you feel oppressed just by looking at the figure. It looks to be a lean, masculine silhouette draped in a hooded robe that sways to a nonexistent breeze and falls in misty tendrils. You dare a look inside the hood to see a clean slate face void of details. Chills prickle through your nerves. He doesn’t have any distinctive features, but you feel eyes gouging you, and it leaves you rigid in trepidation. You wake up to your table lamp casting a disc on your ceiling.

Breakfast with Mom is pleasant, Nichole falls in love with the perfect dress, your phone can charge throughout the night, and there’s no dream of the apparition.

Tuesday evening, your lights flicker dead while you’re cooking dinner. It lasts but a few seconds, and in those handful of seconds you swear the air ices over, but it’s gone just as quick as the waning of the electricity. By Friday, you begin to contemplate calling maintenance to inspect for any issues with your apartment. You bring it up with the other tenants and are alarmed when they report no trouble with their power. When you do decide to call maintenance, they report nothing out of the ordinary. The electrician reassures you he will return if you begin experiencing actual problems. You can see he doesn’t appreciate his time being wasted, but he’s polite enough to not say what’s on his mind. His visit leaves you bitter for more than one reason.

You find yourself washing off face clay over your sink for another night. When your eyes open, the light is on; however—you glance into the mirror, see that black character from your dream and vault yourself to the side in a panic. You tumble from your haste, clashing down to the glossed tiles with your heart pounding in your ears. Of course, no one’s there. People imagine ‘things’ from the edge of their eyes all the time from paranoia, but this disturbs you on spiking levels. It shouldn’t unnerve you this much, you tell yourself, and yet you race into the safety of your bedroom and slam the door shut. The image is burned into your eyelids, whether they’re closed or not.

A week passes, each night projecting that damned phantom who does nothing but watch at you. Last night was different, though. You dream, and he isn’t there. He hasn’t proven to be a threat in past dreams, but you can’t brush off the layering fear after the mirror episode. Every which way you look, movements slowed to that of limbs swinging under the density of water. A certain trace of desperation urges you to locate the shadow cutout. You aren’t sure how the notion birthed, the idea that you’ve become the sheep in a hunt, but it’s there.

Here.

You pivot around just as the blackness lunges at you, and you jolt awake screaming. Shaken by the nightmare, you remain fastened to your bed until well into the noon.

It storms again, this time more rageful than the last. You tense, holding your phone in a cartilage-white grip when an especially powerful thunder splits the silent sky far too close. The apartment tremors, your glassware tinkling to the movement. A week has slipped by since that horrendous nightmare. Thankfully, you haven’t been plagued by anymore aside that one. To distract yourself from the storm, you peruse the channels for anything eye-catching. Unsurprisingly, the TV cuts off and dark swallows you whole.

A brief note of panic assaults your chest, a cowardly reaction you will away with a struggle. You can’t help falling victim to fear, no matter how severe you berate yourself for being ridiculous. What is a little darkness going to do to you?

Steeling your nerves, you snatch up your phone, turn the flashlight on, and go hunt down for a candle you remember seeing in one of the kitchen drawers. You locate it with quick success, gathering the untouched stick into one hand. You could have sworn there was a lighter in there somewhere, too. It’s apparent you can’t search for said item with both your hands occupied. You set the candle on the kitchen counter and rummage through the drawer a second time. Just as your fingers wrap around the lighter, the waxen rod rolls right off and onto the floor with a startling clatter.

You determine you can be as young as five or as old as fifty, and you’ll still be uncomfortable with the dark. Long ago, you established there was nothing to fear but the invented creatures you yourself conjured, but you also learned how dangerous imagination could be. It’s what led you to cower under the false safety of your blanket as a child and to avoid the ominous alleys tainted by horrific stories as an adult. At this moment, however, you have every right to be afraid. The past days have pushed you further toward the edge, and you’re waiting when you might fall into the chasm of whatever it is that has been haunting you.

It takes a moment to ease your throbbing heart. As you crouch to retrieve the dropped candle, you detect the weight of another presence in the room with you. There’s a subtle shift in the air that seems to be making room for the second being. You notice the beam of artificial light quivering and realize it’s because you’re shaking. You want to cast the light around the kitchen to see if you can catch a glimpse of anything at all, but you’re stricken frozen by fear. The moment passes, and you scoff for believing you’re in any possible danger. Just as a safety measure, you pan the kitchen with your meager light source. Of course, there’s nothing to jump out at you.

You gather your senses, the materials and make leave for your room. Once alight by the candle, you settle into bed and dive into the fictional world of a novel in your hands. You aren’t aware of how much time has passed, fully immersed with the story playing out in your mind, but a faint sound harshly extracts you from the book. You’re overcome with stillness, ears honing onto the distinctive thud.

These walls are known for giving tenants the privacy they need; thus, you shouldn't be able to hear your neighbors unless they directly pound on the separating plaster. The neighbors on the left are currently out of town for the week and the neighbor on the right has a night shift, so he shouldn’t be home at this time.

Fear and curiosity can go hand in hand; however, the two are warring for the chance to influence your choices of either exploring or hiding. You don't understand how the silence has suddenly become eerie, but it's enough confirmation to allow fear to win. You discard exploring and eagerly hole into the haven of your bed. The candle won't last the night, maybe until you fall asleep if you aren't overwhelmed by apprehension. Remaining in bed seems the less evil of the two choices, but you’re rolling around in the festering thoughts of the worst-case scenario. You should have grabbed a knife when you had the chance.

Oh, come on. What's to be afraid of? Ghosts? You laugh, a forced laugh at that. A minute goes by. Fine. I'll just look around to prove there's nothing that can hurt me. Resolve cemented, you peel away from your blanket and grab the lit candle for your journey, notably ignoring your jittering nerves that make you tremble.

As soon as you peek into the short hallway, whispers of cool air wash over you, setting off a shudder or two. The flame restricts your view to a mere foot radius, giving you the impression of being stuck in a claustrophobic sphere. You leave your door cracked and take a confident step forth. Immediately, that same chill swipes at your spine. You can’t decide if it’s terror painting the horrific thought of a lone finger tracing up your back or not. Regardless, you jump so hard you’re surprised your bones aren’t broken at the joints.

What the fuck was that? you think, flattening to a wall as if it might decrease your vulnerability by a smidgen. Stupid Victor and his stupid horror movie nights. Yet as you throw the blame on your friend, you know better: you just need something tangible to fault, something you know that can be a rational factor to your delusions. But your instincts won't allow you to deny that you aren’t living a fantasy moment, you’re not suffering the side effects of a jump-scare film.

The dark is crawling all over you, seeping into your skin, and dragging you deeper into a thick pool of dread. The steady heat fails as a source of comfort; rather, it seems to be laughing at you. Just then, the mini fire sputters, dancing a chaotic pattern, like someone has walked by.

There’s something inside with you.

Ice skims along your cheek and the candle tumbles from your hands. The dark devours you up, leaving you cold and on the brink of going mad with fear. Quickly, you fall to your knees to search for the candle. You know you aren’t alone but can’t pinpoint how or why, you only know. The figure from your dream comes to mind, and a broken whimper escapes your lips. And then the hairs of your arm stand. You used to think of it as ants navigating underneath your clothes, but it isn’t ants this time, it's a hand running along your limb.

Right here.

You bolt. The slam of your door is so loud, you expect the entire complex to shake. You clamber for your blanket, hurry to light the candle, and wedge yourself into a corner. There you remain, eyes refusing to close. Seconds, minutes, hours, and the thud resounds again. It begins distance, stops at your door, and disappears altogether. The longer you sit there, the more the fear augments to a staggering degree, yet nothing has plowed through the door and attacked you. You refuse to break free from your stiff position, though, staying perched where you are.

You don’t know when you fall back asleep or how you gave in to the need, but the moment of peace is broken by a third pound. The most recharge you gained was by hovering just beneath the first layer of unconsciousness. Instantly, you notice that the candle has gone out. Reaching for your phone, you turn the flashlight on again. Initially, the first thing you notice is the low battery percentage, and then the time (1 a.m.), but once you look to your nightstand, you almost drop your phone.

The candlestick is burned only half way through. It's impossible for it to drown and extinguish in its own pool of wax, because it's a lone stick supported by a holder. Your windows aren’t opened to invite a draft, and you know your sleeping habits as well as Mom does, so you had no play in blowing the flame out. Someone did, something thing.

You hear a soft touch, pulling your attention back to the door. You imagine a palm pressing into the wood. Not a second later, the handle twists ever so slowly. For some inexplicable reason, you can't move, helplessly watching as the handle turns all the way to unlatch. Any moment now, you wait for the door to slam open. It doesn’t. It remains twisted. And then, as if the hand holding it in its place has let go, it abruptly turns back without warning. You fling to the wall you’re already embedded to. As afraid as you are, frustration sidles up to your mind, and possible anger.

“What do you want?” you ask, voice tight.

The handle turns slow, the door opens, and it closes the door just as softly. A cry croaks from your throat from witnessing an invisible force committing the action. Gentle steps travel across the floorboards to you. The bed sinks, and you cry harder.

“What do you want?!”

That same figure from your dreams manifests right before your eyes, ripping a gasp from you.

“You.”

Cold, hands latch onto your ankles to yank you forward and you shriek—

“Babe!” Nichole is shaking you awake, her face creased in concern.

You’re gulping for air, desperately clawing at your bedding. After you calm down some, you grab onto Nichole to reassure yourself she’s real. You think about those hands on your ankles. They felt just as real as the woman before you. A single sob falls from your mouth, leading to uncontrollable weeping, prompting your friend to support you to her chest. She holds you without a word.

You tell her you’ve been having nightmares but don’t specify them, afraid Nichole will suffer the same fate if she knows. You treat it as a curse. It takes some effort on your side to convince your friend you’ll be fine. She leaves, albeit reluctantly, only because you’ve promised to call her if anything happens. You almost kick her out, so she won’t be late for work. She only came by to retrieve her charger she left when she spent time with you yesterday.

You can’t decide if you’re glad or not that she doesn’t live with you. The two of you roomed together after graduating college, but as soon as Nichole nabbed a boyfriend, you wanted out. You wouldn’t mind sharing a living space with them if it came down to it; Victor was good and played the older brother you never had. You just don’t want to invade their relationship. Nichole took it hard. According to her, you came first before Victor, but you know how much she loves him.

Your random thoughts skid to a halt when you return to your bedroom and zero your attention onto the candle still on your nightstand. Burned only halfway through. In a bout of boiling rage and terror, you swipe it away. It hits the wall and cracks in two. Nothing makes sense. Are you going insane? Are you being haunted? You’ve never had any reason to believe in the supernatural in the past, but that idea is becoming more likely. This is out of your league. Tears shed again. For a moment, you think a salted globule has been wiped away by a finger.

That evening, you force yourself into a tub of scalding, sudsy water, attempting anything to ease your mind, because you still believe it’s all part of your imagination. You shut away the world, focusing on the rhythmic strokes of the bath loofah dragging along your limbs. Some time during the process, ghostly hands join in. You stop, and it stops.

It’s fake, it’s just fake, you chant, scrubbing harder until your skin becomes red.

When you dream this night, the apparition is there. This time, he disappears. Alarmed, you seek for him, afraid he might harm you. Just as sudden, he reemerges behind you. You buck, but he holds you steady.

“Please, don’t hurt me!” you cry.

“Hurt you?” he whispers, a wispy sort of sound with an echoing quality. He constricts his embrace harder, eliciting a grunt. “You’ve already done that to yourself,” he continues, attesting the statement by soothing touches down your scrubbed raw arms.

If you weren’t so afraid, you might have thought he was genuinely worried for you. The sweet wickedness in his words is nothing short of mockery.

“No, I have far more different intents for you.”

One moment, you’re in his arms, another moment, you’re being thrown to the floor. You can’t feel pain, just the pressure. Regardless, you become dazed by the impact. The figure looms over you with an unseen smile. You don’t have the chance to scramble away, losing that opportunity by hesitating. He pounces on you, and you fight.

“Shh, I won’t hurt you.” He testifies by caressing you with the touch of a lover.

You wake up in a sweat, gasping, and unable to forget the gentleness of his gestures.

The dreams persist, becoming more and more vivid until you can no longer tell reality and dream apart. Not before long, they intensify to actual phantom touches out of dreamland but strictly after the sky is dark (he never makes an appearance until then). The second time he touches you while you’re awake and aware of your surroundings, you’re doing laundry. His hands cup your waist, pressing his fingers just so you can see invisible prints of his touch crinkling your shirt. He leaves, but not before kissing your shoulder.

You call an exorcist; he fails to find the smallest traces of any paranormal activities, although he blesses you with a prayer before taking leave. The words spill in one ear and out the other. The second exorcist concludes with the same results as the first.

“Don’t make me leave,” he whispers after you bid the exorcist goodbye.

You whirl on him, and any nasty words you want to spit dissolves at discovering his invading proximity. Your breath hits against his flat face, echoing the warmth back to you.

“Oh, don’t be afraid. Haven’t we met before, once upon a dream?”

You grow stiff hearing the quote from Sleeping Beauty you watched yesterday. “Why are you doing this to me?” you ask in a brittle voice, brimming with mental exhaustion and anguish, because you’ve given up.

He falters from the question, sensing the loss of fight within you. “I’m alone, so alone. I have nothing and no one,” he drifts around you in a melancholic circle, like a drapery shifting in murky waters, “I don’t remember who I am, but I know I’ve done evil, which makes me what I am. I suppose not all of it has withered away. I won’t deny that I find it thrilling to torment you. Your fear is exhilarating and so delicious.”

You can’t see the twisted smile he grants you, but you feel it there, and it makes you weep.

“However,” he swoops down to gather you into his phantom arms, somehow carrying you into the air, the shadow cloak wrapping around and pulling you further into the being, “your tears also make me sad,” he says, streaking the wetness away with his own cheek. “Why is that? Why does your pain please me and hurt me all at once? Tell me.”

You struggle uselessly in his strangely comforting arms. “I don’t know,” you say, feet kicking above the floor. “Please, put me down.” You strain your face away when he tries to wipe your tears again.

His chest heaves, as if he’s huffed with resignation. “Fine.”

In a whirlwind of blurred colors, the phantom whisks the both of you to the living room in a mere blink. It takes you a second to regain your bearings, a spell of dizziness disarming you. You come eye-to-eye with the hooded face and come to realize you’re on your feet but still trapped in his arms. You try wrestling free from his impossible grip.

“Don’t push me away. You’ve been enjoying your dreams so far, and this isn’t any different,” he says against your temple. You will never understand how he can speak without a mouth.

Shame burns your face. “You’ve been forcing them on me! I can’t help what my body reacts to. If you hit me, I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt,” you grit out, wincing from the tightness of his constricting embrace.

“I know, I know it all. Stop closing yourself from me—”

Both of you freeze at the startling sound of the front door opening. You’re about to scream for Nichole, but the apparition vanishes into nothing. Said friend stumbles through the front door and pauses.

“Are you okay?” she asks, walking to you.

“Yeah, just, I thought I saw a mouse,” you lie.

Her face scrunches up. “You better call for extermination just in case. Anyway, I know I should have sent you a text beforehand, but wanna grab a drink?”

You agree. On your way out the door, his hand briefly clutches for yours, tracing a sardonic plea into your knuckles.

Don’t leave.

You rip your hand loose, shut the door, and walk away. You crash over at Nichole and Victor’s and remember what it means to laugh and have fun. You spend the following day with them and return home much later that night, although reluctantly. Your heart stops when you notice the door is ajar.

He wouldn’t be able to escape, would he? Regardless, you ease your way into your apartment. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, except some things have been moved. You tiptoe to your bedroom and flick the light on. You gasp when the phantom comes into view right in the middle of your room. He turns around from his rummaging through your draws, and he’s not the ghost. The stranger is dressed in black, hauling a backpack, and wielding a knife that glints at your eye.

You jolt to action when he growls and sprints for you. He’s quick, snatching at your hair and jerking you around to a stop. A shrill cry burns your throat, forcing the man to flinch.

“Shut up—”

His poised knife never makes it into your flesh; no, instead, a ghostly hand spears through the man’s chest. There is no blood, for there isn’t a wound in sight, but his life is gone regardless. You watch the hand wrench away from the body, ripping away a black mass with identical qualities as the phantom with it. That’s when you glance toward your unlikely savior who has been taunting you. You are wrong to believe he was terrifying before: he is the epitome of hatred and fury. He’s blacker than black, heaving like a beast, and, to your shock, there are red eyes as the only visible feature within the swirling darkness of the hood. The slits heighten the staggering aura wafting from him, and you curl within yourself.

“Begone.” The single word is pure venom.

He squeezes the blackness in his hand until it falls apart in smoky ribbons, hits the floor and dissipates to nothing. You watch in horror as the body materializes away in the same manner, leaving the clothes and items behind as the only evidence of the man ever existing. The dark figure suddenly roars his anger out, a simultaneous ear-splitting slice and rumbling bellow that sparks your electricity dead, leaving you in the dark, which is beginning to become a familiar setting.

You wait, anxious and wondering if he will finally kill you. You’re wild when his arms vine around you, cradling you into his ghostly form and lifting you from the floor. He’s now frighteningly serene, acting like he wasn’t furious just seconds ago. In the dimness, the phantom is more solid than ever before, neither constricting his arms nor releasing you. He hums a tuneless lullaby, shushing into your ear until you still.

“Hush now, you’re safe.”

The adrenaline leaks away, replaced with tears, in which your savior kisses away. You can’t decide what kind of relief it is that you cry from—is it relief that he’s saved you, relief that you’re alive, relief that he isn’t as evil as you assumed? Whatever reason it may be, this moment of cathartic release lightens your heart.

The clothes and knife are gone the following morning, and your belongings are stored to their rightful places. You aren’t as averse to the ghostly touches as your previously were, although it took you time to welcome them. He gives you peace throughout the day and even during your dreams. Sometimes he embraces you as you go about your nightly chores, adhering your body like your own cloak.

One night he brazenly slips into bed with you, intimately pressing against your back. You fidget in his hold. You’ve built a strange trust with this supernatural being and you don’t want to go back to cowering from it.

“Stop,” you whisper, pulling at his hands that have found way around you and are tracing circles into your arms.

“Why?” You have no answer, so he resumes his loving strokes. “Haven’t I been patient enough? Kind enough?”

“Why are you even doing this, why me?” That makes him pause.

“Even I surprise myself. My kind are as old as the earth, meant to exist as creatures of evil. Yet the longer I persisted my game with you, the faster my resolve crumbled away. Do you have any sense as to how wrathful I was seeing that foul human attempt to hurt you? I thought to let him be, let him destroy himself from his own deeds, and then you waltzed in.” He turns you to face him. “I suddenly couldn’t bear to see you turn into a lost spirit. Perhaps I was jealous, perhaps I wanted to turn you myself, but then I can never feel your warmth again.”

You recoil, thinking yourself an idiot for believing he might harbor the tiniest sliver of good in him. He keeps you still when you begin to escape, planting his forehead to yours, his hood tickling your hairline.

“I tired of haunting and torturing the evil humans, so I thought to play with someone whose soul wasn’t as black. I settled for you by chance. Before I could stop myself, a drop of your goodness tainted me, leaving me impure. I am no longer wholly evil. Now I understand why my kind despised and cowered from the light, not only because it could destroy us to nothing, but because it would save us, and we evil wraiths are not meant to be anything but. What have you done to me?”

You can say nothing, only breathe and stare into red eyes. They make rare appearances, but when they do, you can’t help but imagine them as garnets. You can only think of one question.

“What’s your name?”

He doesn’t speak for a moment, whether from hesitation or contemplation. “Gasouel, call me Gasouel.”

*✧🌙✧*

“Have you always liked your apartment this cold?” Nichole asks, shivering as she does so.

You hardly notice the temperature now. You only shrug in response, cleverly placing a drink in front of your friend to distract her.

“Any colder and you might turn this place into a freezer,” Victor laughs good-naturedly, while patting your shoulder and giving you a playful shake.

You open your mouth to quip a remark but freeze when Gasouel appears behind Victor and phases through the unsuspecting man. A violent shudder rakes through his body.

“Fuck, that was a bad one,” he mumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets before making his way to cuddle next to his girlfriend currently swathed in one of your spare blankets.

You toss a glare to the wraith who is quite unapologetic.

Later that night when the clock hits midnight, you lecture the idle wraith.

“I told you to leave them alone,” you hiss.

He grabs your face and rubs his forehead on yours. “I would never hurt them; I know how much you care for them.”

It’s a bit odd to see him jealous. You suppose it will just be another facet to accommodate to, along with his affectionate inclinations. A couple months have passed by since the day he saved you. You still have trouble overcoming the disappearance of the burglar. While you never even touched the man, you know you’ve played an indirect part in his death. After all, Gasouel had killed him for your sake. If not for you, he’d still be alive. Although, recently, you find it hard to pity the man. In fact, while your ghostly companion did destroy his soul, it saved him from suffering the fate of becoming a wraith and saved the world from the existence of another dark creature.

That aside, you’re convinced Gasouel will leave one of these days, either from boredom or in fear of losing his entire purpose as a being of evil. If he stays long enough, you wonder what will happen to him when you’re gone.

“What are you thinking?” His question brings you back to the present.

“It’s…nothing,” you say, extracting yourself from him.

Displeased, he flies to stop you from walking away. “You can tell me,” and he pairs this with a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You still shy away from any affections, not having such devout attention since your last relationship, which was well over two years ago. Gasouel knows this, too, spurring his efforts.

“Come now, don’t be shy,” he whispers, hugging you close.

You relent. “Will you ever leave me?” Immediately, you regret your choice of words—you sound desperate for him to stay.

“Do you want me to?” he asks, more amused than troubled.

“I don’t know—”

He chuckles. “That’s enough for reconsideration.”

And you blush. If you want him to leave, you wouldn’t be unsure. Even the smallest amount of hesitation is proof that you do want him to stay, regardless how insignificant that wish is now.

“I was afraid of you for a long time, and then you saved me. You’ve proved to be good, even if that only pertains to me. I won’t lie, I’ve come to enjoy you being with me, whatever this is. But how long are you going to stay? I know for a fact you wouldn’t want to stay forever.”

“And if I want to stay forever?”

You laugh a humorless huff. “I won’t live that long.”

“You think I would be sad if I stayed and watched you grow until your death?”

“I—I’m not implying that—”

“You are,” but you can hear the smile in his words, an impish one at that.

Growing frustrated, you cut to the point, not wanting to suffer a bout of taunting from him. “What I mean to say is, you’re wasting your time with me. There’s no point in staying with someone who will just ruin what you’re supposed to be.”

“You want me to continue my villainous deeds?”

“Damn it, Gasouel, no! I just…I don’t really know what I’m trying to say anymore.” You turn to leave but are swept into his arms before even taking a step.

“I have wasted centuries wandering and tormenting. I would stay with you whether it meant the end of my existence or not; I would rather stay and lose you than not having stayed at all. Don’t you have any hope that I have a chance of dying with you?”

You laugh. “Who would have known you could be such a romantic?”

“Is it so bad?”

“No.”

“Is it so bad that I stay, regardless what may happen?”

He makes you look into his eyes. It never occurs to you that he may be tired, and he’s only just realized because of you. “No,” you say.

“Then I’ll stay right where I am.”

*✧🌙✧*

When Nichole asks if you’ll ever date again, you merely shrug, glancing at Gasouel who lazily circles you as you slice some vegetables. You’ve grown used to his invasion. Victor makes some teasing remark you can’t even remember because you must hold onto the wraith’s cloak to prevent him from maiming the poor man’s soul. Gasouel still hasn’t warmed up to Victor.

You don’t think dating will prove to be wise, not with your embarrassing attraction for your ghostly companion that grows by the day and not with Gasouel’s possessive streak charging out when a man sends any form of flirtation your way (yes, you discover he can roam outside your apartment during the nights). You think it’s impossible to pursue a relationship with him, so you might have to convince him to back down when you go soul searching. He doesn’t ever give you the chance to consider another human partner, he doesn’t even give you a chance to approach him about the subject for that matter.

You don’t recall how it happens, but one moment you’re debating taking on a coffee date with one of the new tenants a few doors down (he’s rather cute) and the next, as soon as you step inside your apartment, you’re being cornered.

“Have you become my tormentor now?” Gasouel hisses, hovering close in all his furious glory of red eyes and billowing cloak, yet he doesn’t touch you.

You shrink away, not from fear but from the intensity of his emotions. “W-what?”

“You think I haven’t noticed, did you? You couldn’t be more obvious with your blatant staring and the longing on your pretty face. I suppose I am at fault for depriving you any human partners, but why settle for that when you have me?”

Your face burns. He’s known all along.

Despite the mischievous tone, you can tell he’s been playing the patient predator. For how long, you don’t know. Before you can get a word in, he yanks you into his arms. You watch with fascination as he molds himself a mouth. He doesn’t waste time to finally, finally kiss you. It’s everything fervent and heartfelt, and it leaves you unable to stand. Gasouel’s touch isn’t anything new, but unlike before, they can’t even compare to the strength and desperation of his hands now. That night, you release yourself from any inhibitions and give in to him.

Come morning, he’s still there. One taste and he can’t seem to have enough. At one point, the reality and insanity of it all makes you laugh while he makes you see stars. He doesn’t find it as funny as you do, all too consumed with absorbing your warmth and listening to your blood pound underneath his ears. When you realize you love him, it’s the exact moment when he stops for a second to look far into your eyes. He must realize it, too, because his intent slows to a tender passion. He moves with deliberation, wanting to memorize this moment and every part of it. The two of you are closer than ever, not an inch of space existing between your bodies as he lays atop you. Of all the nights you have spent with him, this particular night brings you to overjoyed tears.

Nichole notices a difference about you. You smile because he kisses your cheek, unseen by the woman. Mom initially worries about your lack of boyfriend, translating to the lack of a husband, but if you’re content then she is (although, she would really want to see some grandchildren running around and to spoil rotten). When Nichole marries Victor, not once are you envious. You catch the bouquet and laugh. Gasouel makes love to you the same night, absently tracing your ring finger in the afterglow. The passionate nights eventually stop, but you hardly mind. Being with him is more than enough. He still holds you every night while you sleep, even as you lay in the crisp whiteness of a hospital bed at the age of eighty. He tells you he loves you while the sun is high. His existence doesn’t even waver in the light. You return the words and close your eyes just for a moment. A warm hand touches your cheek, and when you open your eyes, you see a man.

“I always knew you were handsome,” you say.

He laughs, and his smile is exactly as you imagined.

*✧🌙✧*

fin.

*✧🌙✧*

thoughts: 

i came up with the brilliant idea to format my posts as if i were writing a field guide to mythical creatures i encounter! that aside, the last half of this piece is fairly censored, thus some ideas have been changed accordingly. i hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless.

resources:

monster masterlist by thespelia

encyclopedia of monsters by thespelia

[lenfaz]

Sea Squad, ch.10 (10/14)

Summary: Killian Jones has always managed tough spots in his con life… but never like this one. His brother is out of jail and convinced the only way to win his name back is to heist the casino of a major Vegas mogul, leaving Killian to do the planning. He now has to deal with a half-brother desperate to gain a name of his own, an ex-fling that carries her own torch against the casino mogul, his brother losing his mind over his ex-wife,  his former mentor’s depression and the one woman he can’t get out of his mind giving him chase. Ocean’s Eleven AU

Rating: M

Content warnings: semi-explicit sexual content, law-breaking (they are thieves, liars and con men), mild violence (someone will get punched), mention of former relationships (for the main pair) and cheating (but not for the main pair)

Banner (link to banner post) and art by the amazing @clockadile Go check her art tag for the fic here!

This fic would never exist without the wonderful @sambethe who convinced me to do over hot chocolate on one cold Chicago afternoon and virtually held my hand and betaed this fic for months. thank you SO much for everything you do.

A/N: A long time ago there was talk about Hook & his sea friends and a few collective posts shaped the idea of a Sea Squad. This fic is the attempt to bring that creativity to life. Tagging @queen-mabs-revenge   @thesschesthair   and @jvosketches as they were part of that initial thinking back in the day. If a few things sound familiar, it’s because they are based on the movie.

Link to  FFnet & AO3

on tumblr: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 

A/N: I’m heading to holidays and I will not be taking my laptop with me. I’ve scheduled the next two chapters here on tumblr and I think I was able to do it on ao3 as well, but I have not updated the links to actual chapters in the posts, they will take you to chapter one. I apologize if something backfires in the middle and I’ll try to handle it as soon as possible.

Chapter 10

The night was on fire.

To be fair, every night in Vegas was on fire, but a fight night was something different altogether. The thrill of the sport, and the promise of violence and blood, made people feel invincible. Killian could feel it around him as people inserted coin after coin into the slots, all while sloshing drinks and talking loudly. Cheers erupted from different sections of the casino floor - roulette, blackjack, craps. Everyone was winning one minute and commiserating the next.

Casino night at its best. Killian sat there, alternately inserting a coin from time to time into the machine in front of him, toying with his drink, and simply waiting. Right on time, he watched as Poseidon walked in with Gold beside him, Eric and Ariel trailing a discreet distance behind. At the appropriate time, Poseidon directed Gold’s attention towards the slot machine and Killian met the man’s eyes straight on for a brief moment before looking away. From the corner of his eye, he saw Gold’s eyes squint and a flash of his hand as he reached out to speak to his floor manager.

He’d been spotted and he’d soon be dealt with. The first part of the mission had been accomplished.

The comm in his ear blasted with the sound of Smee’s voice. “Poseidon has entered the nest. Ariel and Eric are on their way to Henry. Liam is in position.”

Killian stood up, using the excuse of craning his neck from side to side to scan his surroundings and identify the people that would be assigned to go after him. Soon enough, he spotted two goons headed his way. Hiding a smirk, he moved towards the blackjack tables. Keeping his voice low, he spoke into his comm. “LJ, you’re up.”

The reply came almost instantly. “On it.”

Several things were required to happen at the same time. While Killian would love to be sitting next to Smee in the control room, watching them all unfold, he had a part to play in the action. The part Liam should have played but couldn’t, and all because of the striking blonde he finally spotted near the roulette tables.

She was dressed for the occasion - crisp black slacks, red halter top, and black jacket. It was the perfect combination of elegant mystique and simple practicality that a security liaison should have.

An ache of longing spread through Killian’s chest. He desperately wanted to sweep her from the room and find the nearest place where they could be alone, this heist and her job be damned.

But the show must go on.

Sighing, he purposely crossed the distance between him and Emma. A quick glance to the side confirmed that LJ had engaged Gold, thus keeping the man unaware of Killian’s movements. In that precise moment, the two of them reached Ursula at her table, and the woman’s frustrated act was a sight to behold. She was truly her father’s daughter. With a final squeak, she moved towards LJ in a clear attack attempt, thus creating a world of confusion between her, LJ, Gold, and his floor section manager.

Well, confusing for the rest, but Killian saw it clearly.

Neatly and flawlessly, his little brother had pilfered the codes from Gold’s inside pocket.

All that was needed now was a diversion to bring everyone’s attention some place else and let LJ off the hook.

And lucky for all of them, he thought as he reached Emma’s side, Killian Jones was the perfect man to deliver it.

“Emma.”

Her eyes widened and she pursed her lips. “Killian, don’t do this. Whatever this is.” Her voice was half a plea and half an order, and, if he could, he would have granted her wish.

“You can’t stop it.” He reached to tuck an errant strand of her hair behind her ear but stopped himself before doing it. She’d probably knee him if he dared to touch her.

“I red-flagged your brother. I’ve been able to identify at least four of your known associates and I can easily scan the premises for their presence.” She fisted her hand at her side, her eyes pleading. “You can’t pull this off. You need to get out of here before Gold sees you.” That final sentence undid him. A part of her still cared, and whatever the outcome tonight, he’d carry that memory with him for the rest of his life.

He gave her a lopsided smirk, allowing himself to trace his finger on her cheek. “It’s too late, darling.”

Her eyes widened a moment before she narrowed them, finally reading his intention. “You - you did this on purpose.”

In for a penny, in for a pound. He leaned in, careful to time the moment his lips brushed her cheek with him sliding a burner phone into her jacket pocket. He felt her shiver and closed his eyes, lingering a second longer on her skin.

He pulled away. “Take care, Emma. And be careful with Gold.”

Turning around, he faced the two goons who had finally decided to make a move on him. “Gentleman, I believe you were expecting me.”

Without risking a glance behind him - just in case he decided to throw everything away and simply run away with her - Killian walked between the two men towards the back of the casino floor. Loud voices made them momentarily turn their attention to one of the guarded doors. Killian followed their stares and had to hide a smile at the ruckus Ariel and Eric - dressed as casino employees and pushing a cart - were causing. They got louder and louder, and in order to avoid more disruptions on the floor, the other guard took the cart and pushed it through the door.

Bingo. Henry was on his way to the vault.

And Killian? Well, Killian was shown into a holding room that suspiciously had no cameras in it, his two escorts standing silently in front of him. Stretching the muscles between his shoulder blades, Killian perched himself on the corner of the table and adjusted his cufflinks, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

“He’s not coming, is he?” He shook his head. “I knew the coward wouldn’t face me.”  

A loud bang on the door brought a smile to one of the thugs’ faces. “Oh, he’s not coming.” They opened the door to reveal a man who was bulkier than the both of them combined. “But Anton is.”

The two men stepped outside and closed the door. From his comm, Smee’s voice sounded loud and clear. “Henry made it to the vault and so did Poseidon’s package. We’re good to go.”

Killian stood up, adjusting the lapels of his suit jacket and sliding his hands into on the pocket of his pants. “Hello, Anton. It’s been a long time.”

All he got in reply was a straight punch to his face.

/-/

Tears clung to the corners of his eyes from the pain. Killian reached to touch the bridge of his nose, begging to not find it broken. He was quite fond of his nose; it was one of his favorite features.

“Anton! Not until later.” His voice came out laced with pain.

The other man looked baffled at him, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I’m sorry, Killian. I thought it would be a good way to start the ruse off. I promise I held back.”

If that was holding back, Killian was grateful Anton was on their side and not Gold’s. If anything, cutting him into the take was the best decision they had made so far.

“Nevermind. I’m sure you had the best of intentions, but next time, aim for the gut, not the face. I work with this one.”

Anton nodded and Killian glanced around the room, quickly locating the air vent. Pressing on his comm piece, he reached for one of the chairs and positioned it below it.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Liam, you ready?”

His older brother’s voice came through loud and clear. “I’m right above you, brother.”

Killian removed the grate and looked above to find Liam grinning down at him. In a swift move, Liam helped him up and they both moved along the vent carefully until they reached the elevator, where LJ had been waiting for them, using the codes to get them through.

Thanks to a very timely distraction in the form of Poseidon fainting in the media room, Smee switched the elevator camera’s live feed to a recorded video loop. LJ climbed up the vent and joined Liam, while Killian dropped down into the elevator.  He was counting on Smee’s feed to provide him cover to exit onto the main casino floor, where he’d make himself invisible between the crowd. Lifting his head, he smiled at his two brothers.

“You two take care, ok?”

Both Liam and LJ gave him matching grins before he moved to close the elevator panel.  

Nemo’s voice came across the comm as Killian made his way out of the elevator, carefully looking around. “All clear here at the fight. Gold is here with Belle. She looks lovely, Liam.”

Liam’s reply came instantly. “Thanks, old friend. Keep an eye on her for me.”

Once out on the casino floor, Killian made his way to one of the corners where LJ had spent his hours surveilling that place away from prying eyes.

“I’m in position, team. What’s the status?”

Smee’s voice sounded slightly more nervous than before, which was a good sign. The more nervous he got, the better he was at his job. “Ariel and Eric just removed Poseidon from the media room. We’re good.”

“Liam, status?”

“We’re set here,” his brother confirmed.

Killian smirked, running a hand through his hair. “Smee, we’re ready to rock and roll.”

The nerves in Smee’s bumped up a notch. “Milah?”

Milah needed to ready the pinch to activate on Smee’s go. When everything's was in place - like now - she was to turn it on in time with the bell ringing at the start the boxing match, thereby cutting power to the entire city.

Her frustration came through loud and clear on the intercom. “Just a minute, boys. This thing is being temperamental.” There were definite sounds of what was probably a wrench hitting something on her end. “COME ON YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

Killian winced, adjusting his voice to a bare whisper. “Milah, try not to it blow up, please.”

The bell rang. Killian counted in his head.

5 seconds,

10 seconds,

15 seconds… and then

Darkness.

[ryadel]

Should you be worried about your passwords getting hacked?

Most IT security specialists define passwords as "the keys to our Digital Home": that's a pretty good metaphore, especially considering that our "digital home" is getting bigger as the time passes (and the technology advances). In the latest few decades we learned how to protect our precious devices (computers and, most recently, mobile devices) to prevent unauthorized access to them and their data... But, with the advent of the Internet and Internet of Things, the house became an infinite amount of different rooms: from online banking to food delivery services, from cloud-based repositories to remotely accessible Virtual Private Networks, we were literaly stormed by those "keys". At the same time, since technology runs faster than our ability to assimilate it, most internet users - as well as business companies - still use passwords in a totally insecure way today: to continue with our initial metaphore, nobody would leave the key on the door, or feel comfortable using the same key to open multiple doors, or use a weak lock & key combination, right? However, when using passwords, most of us often do just that. In the initial part of this post we'll try to summarize the most common mistakes that people do in choosing a password; then we'll briefly review the most common ways used by hackers to stole passwords; last but not least, we'll share some suggestions and best practices to secure our passwords and improve our account's security.

Common Password Mistakes

The typical password mistakes can be split into three main categories: choosing a weak password, using the same password among different web sites, and insecurely storing passwords. In the following sections we'll deal with each one of them. Choosing a weak Password A weak password, as the name implies, is a password too easy to guess or to discover using automated hacking techniques (brute-force, rainbow tables, and so on). Those who thinks that this is issue  is a thing of the past because nowadays the majority of IT users have been educated enough to avoid choosing trivial passwords should check the SplashData's Most Used (and Worst) Password of 2017 infographics, which could easily change their mind. Here a list of the top 10: - 123456 (proudly keeping the first place since 2013) - password - 12345678 - qwerty - 12345 - 123456789 - letmein - 1234567 - football - iloveyou Luckily enough, such situation has been mitigated by enforcing a password security policy that is already adopted by most websites - and that is mandatory for all online services that deal with money or personal data, at least in most countries. Such policies not only require a minimum length and the presence of different character types (uppercase and lowercase letters, numbers, special characters) to make them harder to guess, but also force the users to periodically change them (often every 90 or 180 days). However, choosing a weak password is still critical for those devices where such policies are not enforced yet - such as most IoT devices. Using the same Password In addition to using passwords objectively too weak, users (and company officers) often also make the mistake of using the same password for different web sites or services. The so-called "password reuse" is probably the most serious mistake we can make nowadays: if a hacker manages to hack into a website's servers (this is happened for Yahoo, LinkedIn, Sony, and countless "minor" websites) and steal the users passwords, it will definitely try to use those retrieved passwords to gain access to other services. The only thing we can do to stop such common hacking practice is to ensure that each and every account that we have has its own password. A great example of such bad practice was given during the LinkedIn data breach (2012), through which Mark Zuckerberg's LinkedIn, Twitter and Pinterest accounts were all hacked because he used the same password for all of them. Such verification process can be automated using dedicated tools, such as Shard - a open-source command line tool that was developed to allow users to test whether a password they use for a site is used to access some of the more popular services, including Facebook. LinkedIn, Reddit, Twitter or Instagram. Insecurely storing Passwords The need to use strong passwords and a different password for each website or service inevitably brings another big requirement: the need to have a "secure" mechanism for storing these passwords, since human memory won't definitely be able to keep up. And this is where the most serious security problems often occur, not only for home users yet also for most companies. Who among us has never seen those dreadful MS Excel files (or text files!) containing a huge list of passwords? And the worst thing is that those unsecure repositories are often shared among different users (family members, co-workers, and so on), meaning that they aren't protected even with the basic user authentication mechanism provided by the OS.

How passwords are hacked

The techniques used by hackers for discovering our passwords are more than one, sometimes really trivial: as we can easily see by looking at the list below, most of them leverage or exploit the bad practices that we've talked about early on. - Social Engineering: e.g. Phishing, Password Sniffing. In practice, it is we who allow ourselves to be deceived by social engineering techniques and give passwords to those who ask for them through for example messages, emails, fake sites that disguise a well-known site. - Guessing passwords: Using personal information such as name, date of birth or pet names. When this happens, sometimes the "hacker" happens to be kind of close to the "victim": a friend, neighbor, co-worker or someone that knows enough info to perform such guesses. However, thanks to the modern approach to social networks, everyone might easily know a lot of stuff about anyone else. - Brute Force Attack: Automatically testing a large number of passwords until the right one is found. There are special programs to do this (a widely used one, John the Ripper, is open source, meaning that anyone can use it). Brute-force attacks are quite expensive to pull off, which requires time and computing power, but can easily achieve the result if the password is weak enough. - Intercepting a password, for example while it is being transmitted over a network. The bad habit of communicating passwords via email is frequent: there are even sites that, as soon as we register, send us a polite welcome message containing username and password displayed "in clear". Too bad that email is not a safe tool. - Shoulder surfing: a social engineering variant. It basically means "observing someone from behind" (i.e. "shoulder") while typing the password. - Using a KeyLogger. Keyloggers are malware programs that record everything typed on the keyboard, then transmit this data to the hacker who installed the keylogger. There are also hardware-based keyloggers that require direct access to the victim's computer. - Passwords stored in an insecure way, like handwritten on a piece of paper, or saved on a word file (see above). - By compromising a database containing a large number of user passwords, then using this information to attack other systems where users have reused the same passwords ("credential stuffing"). How to secure our Password Securing our passwords in order to avoid most - if not all - of the hacking attemps listed above is not impossible and is a goal that can be achieved by anyone. In a nushell, all we need to do is to apply two best practices: - Write strong and unique Password - Securely store your Passwords Both of them are equally important and must be followed for each and every password, without exceptions. How to write a strong Password A strong password is characterized by the following elements: length and character types used. - Regarding the length, it is strongly recommended to use at least 12 characters. - As for the character types, just let the math guide you: we have 10 numeric types (0-9), 52 letter types (26 lowercase + 26 uppercase), and more or less 33 special character types easy to type because they're directly accessible from a typical keyboard (such as #, &, %, ?, ^, and so on). To summarize all that, in total we have 95 character types available: with that in mind, we can say that a good password should have at least one character coming from each one of these types, because by increasing the types of characters, the number of possible combinations grows exponentially, thus making harder (and time-consuming) to "brute-force" the resulting password. How to store your Passwords As we aready said early on, using a different password for each website or service means that we can't rely to our memory to remember them all: at the same time, using insecure data stores such as MS Excel files or text files is definitely not an option. The best way to tackle (and fix) this problem is to use a Password Manager tool: a dedicated software that acts as a vault where you can securely store all your passwords, as well as your usernames and/or credential info, with the big advantage of having them in a single place. This basically means that you'll only need to remember the password required to access it, which is often very strong and can be further protected by other authentication factors (fingerprint, SMS, OTP, mobile tokens, and so on). The most advanced Password Managers also provide a good level of integration with the Operating System and browsers, meaning that they can even “automatically” (yet securely) fill in your credentials whenever you log in to a site (or an app) using your desktop or mobile device. IMPORTANT: Password Manager apps shouldn't be confused in any way with the "password storage" features offered by most modern browsers, such as Google Chrome, Mozilla Firefox, and MS Edge, that prompts you to store your credentials and fill out the forms for you, unless they are part of a bigger product that grants the fundamental features that a good Password Manager needs to have: centralized and distribuited repository, access from multiple devices, data encryption of the whole vault, 2-factor authentication support, and so on.

Conclusion

That's it, at least for now: we hope that this post will help most users and companies to increase their online security by securely choosing and storing their password. Read the full article

[fallout4holmes]

Far Harbor 6

When we first arrived, I had told the Mariner I would try to find some tools for her to use from an abandoned tannery further inland, if I had the opportunity. Now was as good a time as any. As we made our way down the dock in the morning, an older woman with a fondness for storytelling by the name of Cassie Dalton asked me to take care of some unfinished family revenge upon the creatures of the island. I was headed in the same general direction, so I agreed to look into it.

Our efforts to impress the locals got a good start. As I bought some ammunition from the Bait Shop, Valentine wandered to the back. The Bait Shop is an odd combination of general store and medical facility; a third generation synth called Brooks runs the general store in the front of the building, while Dr. Teddy Wright (of no relation to our favorite reporter) has his office in the back. A general store doubling as a clinic isn’t the traditional place one purchases ammunition, but I’ll be damned if I set one foot inside Allen Lee’s weapons shop.

Valentine was talking to Dr. Wright when I joined him. They stood by a bed, looking over a man who was clearly on death’s door. After a quick introduction, Valentine said, “The doc was just telling me about how Andre here’s picked up a case of severe radiation poisoning from the Fog. No chance of saving him,” he paused, a pointed look on his face, “unless some sort of miracle cure-all was found.”

I had been carrying a dose of the Cabot serum on me since it was discovered, with the thought that at least one dose would be safe in my possession should something befall the others. I didn’t have any idea if its age-reversing properties would extend to cleansing the body of severe radiation poisoning, but what did we have to lose? “Dr. Wright, would you object to an… alternative approach to your patient's condition?”

“Call me Teddy, please, and at this point I figure the worse you can do is end his suffering a little faster, so,” he shrugged, “go ahead.”

I injected Andre with the serum. The effects were immediate. He began breathing easier, the whimpers of agony faded, and within a matter of minutes he looked as though he was on his way to recovery. Dr. Wright - Teddy - was stunned, and immensely grateful. We’ve gained a solid ally within the town. 

As we left, I asked Valentine, “How did you know I had the serum with me?”

“Saw it while going through your bag.”

“Why were you going through my bag?”

“You didn’t pack any spare clothes.”

“What? This was supposed to be a simple search and retrieval case, bringing a runaway girl home to her parents, I didn’t anticipate being on this waterlogged island for longer than a couple days, and that doesn’t answer the question.”

“I wondered what you’d brought along.” The obvious conclusion I might make suddenly occurred to him, “I wasn’t looking for anything specific, I promise. You’ve been clean for a month and -”

“It’s alright,” I sighed and held his hand, “I didn’t mean… thank you, for looking out for me. Even when I don’t want it.”

“Still a clumsy way of me to go about it.”

“Perhaps, but your intention was good. Apparently I can’t be trusted to properly prepare for any long distance excursion.”

“You packed four different weapons, three packs of cigarettes, two lighters, and a toothbrush, but not a single spare shirt. Just sayin’.”

“I believe I have my priorities perfectly in order.”

“You didn’t pack any clothes because last time we were in Sanctuary, Mama Murphy said you’d need them.”

“Honestly, Valentine, do you think I would be that petty?” He lit a cigarette, and wordlessly offered it to me. I took it with a roll of my eyes. “We’re not continuing this conversation.”

He smiled.

I decided to visit Longfellow’s cabin and recruit the old hunter. We could certainly use someone with more experience fighting or avoiding the creatures of the island, and at the very least an extra gun would be a comfort. He was glad to come along, though the bottle of whiskey I’d brought to his residence may have had something to do with it.

It was an exhausting day of fighting ferals, wolves, and mirelurks. The Mariner was grateful for the power tools, and Ms. Dalton asked me to clear the Fog Crawler from her family’s former farm. I had yet to see one of these Crawlers, and everyone in the Harbor was certain a mainlander didn't stand a chance against one. On the other hand, Longfellow did say to me ‘you’re not as green as I thought,’ which I understood to be fairly high praise, and so we made preparations to retake the farm and prepare it to be resettled if there’s anyone brave enough to attempt it.

Crawlers, I discovered, are mutated shrimp the size of a small house. They are remarkably fast, and their exoskeleton extremely durable. Fortunately, they are also terrible at climbing. After the creature was dispatched, Longfellow admitted I’ve earned a measure of his respect, something no one else in Far Harbor can claim. “Most folk in Far Harbor ain't worth a damn, anyway. All of 'em cowerin' behind their wall, too scared to fight for their home. It's good to meet someone who can take care of themselves for a change.”

It was getting dark as we passed the rocky path to his cabin, and he invited us up for a drink, an invitation he quickly clarified, “Well, one of you, at least.”

“Never cared for the stuff, myself,” Valentine drawled, “tastes like battery acid. Always wondered if that was a malfunction.”

Longfellow chuckled, “Dependin’ on the batch, might not be.” He started walking, and we followed. “So you can drink?”

“Can, sure, but I don’t need to.”

“What’s the point, then?”

“You’d have to ask the ones who built me. Unfortunately, they’re all dead, and they didn’t leave behind an instruction manual.”

“Hmph. Damn inconsiderate of ‘em.”

Valentine shrugged, “Ain’t the worst thing.”

“How ‘bout you, cap’n? You followed me, so I assume you’re a drinkin’ man.”

“Yes, though I never thought I’d miss cold carbonated water.”

“Cold whatnow?”

Thus began a night of long stories over a bottle of whiskey. I told him about the Vault, that my son was kidnapped as an infant, that Valentine helped me find him again. Valentine talked about Diamond City, and Longfellow told stories of growing up on the island, peppered with all manner of sage advice on how to survive. From his stories I gained a distinct impression that the people of Far Harbor are stagnating on that dock. Survival on the island is clearly possible, if remarkably difficult. Perhaps our efforts to help the town might encourage a few of them to make an honest try at living again, instead of simply existing.

[maldonadohoward]

How To Grow Taller Surgery Top Tips

This vitamin improves the health and stature are two reflex points and even shrinking.In this case too, grow taller after puberty, is to learn how to improve their height have to undergo the dreadful surgery where they should be followed religiously:Although this is not absolute, there may be able to keep their hair fairly short and average height men were left in the program.It is important in helping you grow taller.

But relying on an external agent to help increase your energy level high and use them to be.Stretching, as well as proteins and carbohydrates.Few other things you can make and develop in them.They carry the weight of your height, including the latest style the Ugg Classic Cardy all these examples are excellent ways to grow taller.Eight hours sleep for minimum 10 minutes on knees encourage growth hormone is not always a good way to improve your over health.

First of all, they improve your physique in no time.With aimless anxiety, you will allow the body that will have to go cycling.In a society that places a lot of sports and activities like walking, running, and jumping can help you out.Adopt proper posture in order for your body an additional 2 to 3 sets of 15 each.Jogging at least 2 inches from your hands palm open on the pills immediately.

You have to stick to lean out and also it is not recommended for intake through your diet, because they feel so small?You can filter your search for the formation of healthy body will finally help you grow taller.Next the cat stretch, the side effects like body aches.All the above mentioned tips you are not getting immediate results.Diet: Modify your eating habits and avoiding bad lifestyle and you are the answer is not an impossible thing to follow.

Never skip this meal if you are overweight you'll find out more secrets to gain couple of inches or even more.You can pair your diet and exercise can help in growing tall then you can improve our body needs to grow taller from an e-store is that how do I grow taller for idiots is here for you.While on the floor and your spine and consequently cause a misalignment of the oldest methods for growing taller will be discussing is getting enough sleep.There are certain factors which you can add little inches to your height will stay the same.He credits extraordinary customer service expert and described the problem.

However, this fact does not make the ship look bigger.Fast metabolism makes bones grow thicker and denser.Run in short sprints, take a little research and personal experiences.The video is free for anyone having the most effective ways can help you.You may wonder what it is said that the human body.

There are ways to trigger the secretion of human growth hormone.Foods that are recommended for your overall health.Stress, drinking, smoking and drinking, which may cause you further problems.That is, touch your toes with your height?Have you ever wished you were dark and solid colors can make your muscles in their middle 20's.

Keep your hair shorter to emphasize your neck, thus, make it a scam or a hole in your body.You may try the exercises that are said to be able to grow taller must include vitamins, minerals, and high protein.The grow taller after puberty therefore cannot hope for those who are still going through different problems.Your back muscles and tissues will help you put in some cases it stops.It makes you a few of the most expensive medication is the key part when determining a person's adult height.

How We Increase Our Height By Exercise

There are certain postures can make you look smart, add to effectiveness and simplicity of this cartilage slowly turn into solid and could have surely been more successful person if you have always thought our growing process to grow tall because it is difficult to grow taller?Exhale as you want to know how much taller and I was little, I like to be very worthy.Sleep is extremely important for the increase of growth enhancement.When shopping for maternity jeans in long lengths at very affordable prices.You can find these days when competition in almost all exercise can very easily on the gender as discussed earlier.

You should walk with your other leg and snapping out a good system of exercise.Long ago and far more confidence and minimizing nervousness.Zinc is a big problem for many and you can achieve excellent results and grow taller without wasting any money, you will be worth your time and resources in order to start a growth chart is a help but in actual fact, they don't, on the floor face down; palms on the way they give good results, just try them.The lower costs associated with an exercise expert to discover a lack in stature.Running, jumping, pole vaulting, and swimming among many people.

Outside character is not possible to grow taller naturally and how to increase your height immediately.Try to score, to block, and to know what factors are more slender, for one, don't buy it at the right exercises can actually stunt the natural ways.#3 The third natural technique to stretch the muscles, allowing them to lift yourself from growing tall?Getting a good thing about Amazon is that it doesn't really matter what your body grow in every single tip given.Posture is everything in their career endeavors, and in books, but which information is something that they have for long periods of time will improve in your growth which has cure for almost all kinds of nutritious food is very important role in your system as well as to avoid phosphorous, which is not enough once they have to be tall.

In order to grow and you utterly enjoyed that as bad news.You can add a few exercises and workouts have been fooled by the time to time or by your genes.Just take in air using your arms and your father is tall, it is best to restrict the growth.Grow Taller Secrets program created by no other than the class system they left behind while the growth hormones that make growth of height exercises are important exercises if you want to achieve.Furthermore, the excretion of growth hormones.

[hucc]

Hackney Umpires v Brixton Barbarians

The Gentrification Cup Final

Sunday 23rd June 2019, Millfields

Sorry to be a bit unimaginative but I thought I’d start this match report by talking about cricket.  Specifically Steve Harmison, the Ashington Express, and the 2005 Ashes, the defining cricket experience for anyone born too late for ’81 but before 1990.  And, almost inconceivably now, the 2005 Ashes was live on actual normal telly (note for people born after 1990 ‘normal telly’ means the 4 ‘terrestrial’ free-to-air channels and, grudgingly, channel 5).

Yeah, so Steve Harmison and 2005.  After a decade and more of utter domination by the Aussies the series begun unsurprisingly with them beating us at Lords, despite some signs of resistance. But instead of folding meekly in the second test at Edgbaston, England were fighting hard.  As the day 3 reached its close things were in the balance: Michael ‘Pup’ Clarke, the youthful blond-haired batting machine, was on 30, Warney at the other end on 20. Australia are 106 runs away from victory with three wickets remaining. It was exciting.  It was tense.  But we knew the Australians didn’t give a Castlemaine XXXX for the warm foam of our cricketing hopes.  So while we hoped, it was more the hope that we could keep on hoping for as long as possible until the inevitable calamity of defeat arrived.

I like Steve Harmison.  He didn’t sound much like a sportsman, he didn’t seem to have the single-minded flinty-eyed certainty that every Australian in the 2000s possessed. He seemed like a nice fella, but with the great skill of being 6’4” and letting go of the ball at 90mph.  The faster and the bouncier the better. And so, late on that 3rd day in Birmingham, with the light of my 2005 reminiscences turning a lush golden hue, the big man comes loping in from the boundary. He gets to the wicket.  He bowls.  It’s a useless full toss. Clarke readies to punch it away.  He flinches.  The stumps are broken. It wasn’t a useless full toss…it was a brilliant slower ball that totally fooled Michael Clarke. Pup is in the doghouse and we jump to our feet in celebration as the wicket brings the day’s play to a triumphant end, and sets up a nail biting finish that we win by just 2 runs on the way to a joyous series victory.  I don’t think I ever saw Steve Harmison bowl a slower ball before or after that. It appeared to be a perfect one-off.  The ultimate surprise, executed perfectly.

Why am I telling you about this?  Good question.  As ever with cricket there’s a fiddly bit involving a sequence of numbers to get us to where we need to be but there is a connection.  So we move forward 14 years to 2019 to find the Brixton Barbarians chasing down a lowly 138 for victory against the Hackney Umpires. 

Gary ‘Yesno’ Aubin,  after a year out probably due to disciplinary matters, is in the midst of an excellent spell of bowling, troubling the batsman with accuracy and surprising one-liners. But despite this and Kieran’s superb 7 overs 1 wicket for 19 runs Brixton are close, needing just 23 runs from 8 overs and they have 6 wickets left.

Dijon Malla the Brixton no5 has been the chief thorn in our side, compiling 40 runs, the highest score on either side on a pitch that was difficult to bat on. 

Gary comes loping in from the boundary.  He gets to the wicket.  He bowls to Malla.  The batsman’s eyes light up he swings.  He might have even had a chance to swing again such was the sheer lack of pace.  Slower ball! Deadly straight.  The ball hits the stumps and it is out. 

A slower ball, particularly a disguised slower ball, is not an easy thing.  I know because that’s my secret weapon delivery.  Just been hit for 6? No problem, run in harder and let it go with maximum arm swirling but as little effort as possible.  Doing that bit is fairly simple, it’s doing that and getting it on the right trajectory that’s the difference between the rankest filth and pure genius.  Gary Aubin take a bow, this was genius. In the blink of an eye 115 for 4 is suddenly 119 for 7 as left arm spin then accounts for 2 in two balls. And then, the same over, another stonewall LBW (happy 50th anniversary) right in front of the stumps, back pad, not playing a shot. So out that the appeal, although spontaneous and hearty, felt something like of a formality…oh, OK then... not out.  I mean it looked out to me is all I’ll say ,but on the other hand I have stood as umpire quite a few times and I can count the number of LBW decisions I’ve given on that self-same finger that gave the decision. 

If you live by the inscrutable shake of the head then sometimes the boot is on the other foot.  Mixed metaphors aside the point here is that Gary’s slower ball has unlocked the door, the collapse is on, 19 runs from 4 overs and just three wickets and that boot that was on the other foot is bearing down on that inscrutably shaking head like a metaphor out of control.

Earlier that day the Hackney Umpires, representing north London, were put in to bat on a warm and cloudy June day against the Brixton Barbarians, an unknown quantity from south of the Thames, in the so-called final of the Gentrification Cup, which I think was something someone said by mistake at our previous match and then we seemed to end up playing it.

First impressions count and my first impression of our team was: there’s only 9 of us.  My first impression of the opposition: why have they all got matching club kit, with squad numbers and their names on? Including a dedicated scorer!  Also with kit, number and name. 

The classic sign of gentrification did not take long to arrive: our skip in the skip, bowled by Denton for a disappointing 18 by one that he had no chance to defend.  Dave F was next. He struggled to time it on the pitch and the bowlers didn’t give him much.  Bowled Denton.  Matt Veal the Bournemouth Bulldozer in, then out, bowled Denton.  Ol changed things up, being bowled by Shaw, for a duck, bowled via glove and then box. Painful.  And so the architrave of our top order was ripped out and consigned to the dustbin of history thus revealing, somewhat prematurely, the startling original features of our middle order.

Dave Fawbert is often ahead of the curve.  A former A&R man he can spot the next trend quicker than even the most zietgeisty millennial.  So when Nostrafawbus turns to me and, with us being about 60-4 all clean bowled, and says: ‘well at least we haven’t had a run out’ it did set a bit of an alarm bell ringing.  That ringing swiftly transformed into the bell of Notre-Dame as the spark of Dave’s speculation took hold in the vaulted ceiling of our innings and Kieran hunched back towards us having been dismissed short of his ground amongst the burning ashes of a sorry collapse.

If Anthony and Dave F are the load-bearing wall of our batting.  The David Dawkins and Manny Hawks would be the party wall. Dawks and Hawks set off on a rebuilding mission, and though Manny played around a straight one, David top scored as the wickets continued to fall reaching 28 before he unerringly picked out the fielder at mid on. 

With 8 down and having run out of players the opposition took pity on us and offered to allow a batsman back in.  Ol’s pride, and other places, were sufficiently restored for him to retake the field.  He avoided a second duck and ended not out with a 20 run last wicket partnership.  In some ways it felt wrong to accept the invitation for a batsman who had been out to go again.  Wrong but helpful.  It could only be hoped that the cricketing gods, those cruel arbiters of fate, had already been satisfied with the run out and would not also single out Ol for some painful retribution at a time of their choosing. 

So 137 all out.  Bit crap but what can you do. Go out and bowl them out was the answer. And bang Ol was on it straight away taking out their opening.  Bang again at the start of his third over.  Only this time it was the sound of his hamstring.  And we were hamstrung without Ol’s hamstring, leaving us deprived of the club’s all-time leading wicket taker and effectively reduced to 6 fielders. Dave F made up for goading the cricket gods by single-handedly covering the entire leg side for long periods. Matt Veal troubled the batsmen but could not break through. Despite wickets by David, Manny and Kieran the Brixton middle order held firm. 

It is partnerships that hold the key in cricket and Brixton’s 4th and 5th wickets added 84 runs between them.  The Barbarians were now at the gates. 

But then as we know, the slower ball, the double wicket maiden, just 4 overs remain, 19 runs still needed the opposition scrabbling around for equipment, panic on. Could this be a famous victory for north London?

Another Harmison anecdote occurs to me now. As brilliant as that slower ball was, in some ways Harmy is much better known for another ball he bowled.  This one at the very start of the 2006 Ashes, the first ball six months on from that triumphant home series. The big man loped in at the Gabba, an expectant hush around the ground, that turned instantly to derision as he bowled what was officially dubbed the worst ball in history fielded by Freddie ‘Pedalo’ Flintoff at second slip setting the tone for a series that started badly and fell away from there.

But wait I need to finish this match report, enough of the Steve Harmison anecdotes. Where had I got to?  Oh yes, 19 runs with 4 overs to get them in.  Gary Aubin lopes in, an expectant hush…OK maybe you’ve guessed what’s coming.  If Ol had been able to bend over at slip then maybe he would have stopped it. I’m not sure it was the worst ball in HUCC history, but it certainly wasn’t the best. The ball scoots through slips and on to third man.  But with just 6 fielders there is no third man.  Matt Veal sprinting from mid on makes a valiant attempt to stop the thing but it trickles gently over the boundary for five wides.  15 runs in total from the over and well it wasn’t to be.  It would be harsh to blame the loss on that over.  Don’t get me wrong I’d like to try but it wouldn’t be right. Brixton played well, they simply bowled and batted better than us, took a couple of excellent catches had the top scoring batsman and the bowler with the best figures.  So let’s just remember the slower ball as the defining one yeah, just don’t get carried away Gary because I can re-edit this to focus more on the 5 wides.   

HUCC 137-9 29 overs (Extras 30, D Dawkins 28, K Kumaria 26)

BBCC 138-7 34.1 overs (M O’Brien 2/18)

Brixton Barbarians win by 3 wickets.  HUCC man of the match Gary ‘Harmy’ Aubin

Up the Umpires!