#i build displays for other people too though I charge for that

[browngonzo888]

I have a pretty decent job

I can go to one of the two restaurants nearby for lunch, I can have tea or soda or ice cream if I’m out of energy, every contract worker gets paid regardless of how many people show up. It’s $50 a day, not much but there’s a load of perks like keeping the larger portion of sales should one of my woodcrafts sell, and I get to be by myself most of the time. Of course happy face makes happy place, I must be on happiest behavior when someone visits me.

Sometimes I still think about the coworker I got rid of.

She was an older woman who was happy to indulge in the same things I did. But she was a toxic person. I didn’t know until after I added her onto my work roster. I share my shop with other people so I don’t have to work every day. Anyway, this lady was kinda nuts apparently. She commissioned the lady next door to make saddle bags but they weren’t to her specifications. She demanded to keep them and not pay for them. Then she namecalled the leather worker on fb. She was an antivaxxer, calling everyone else weak-blooded (her daughter made her take the vaccine anyway, so I wonder if she was plain lying and trying to pretend she didn’t take the vaccine) oh and she kept missing days of work. Just not pleasant to everyone else but liked working with me.

After finding out she made the workplace anxiety inducing for my fellow coworkers, I asked my boss to help get this woman’s crap out of my shop. She was booted. I was stiff but formal with her, saying it wasn’t a good fit and she lived too far away from work.

I still feel kinda bad for taking away a really peaceful job from her. She was a senior and probably would have never found a more decent one. Every time I drink a $1 Dr Pepper or close shop for a peaceful lunch, I remember how fleeting it is to lose a good gig.

[blaydie]

Gender neutral reader x Blade

Synopsis: An accident at the accommodation resulted in a late-night stroll to the store. Tensions were high as things grew heated between you and Blade. After resolving your issues, you were met with yet another challenge just before entering the store. He was sure no one would recognise him while he was dressed undercover.

Word count: 1.3k

Contains: Slice of life, subtle displays of affection, Blade in casual attire, gender neutral reader, fluff.

Duty calls. Except, it wasn’t duty at all. It was an evening stroll to the store to stock up on food supplies after a kitchen incident. Burnt food. A completely wrecked pan too. You were guilty as charged for destroying the pan, but he was the one who forgot it was on the stove in the first place. 

By your side was Blade, his appearance concealed from head to toe: a black beanie, sunglasses, surgical mask, and a matching black outfit to go. If you weren’t handed money before heading out of the door, you would question whether you were sourcing these items ethically with his mysterious appearance or if you were robbing the building. 

It was tense. His strides were far too long for you to keep up, trailing behind greatly while he effortlessly walked ahead. Though he claimed he wasn’t upset, it was clear he was throwing some form of tantrum. The two of you had been screaming at one another in the kitchen, managing to alert the rest of the Stellaron Hunters who were present.

“Can you slow down?” You call out, though he doesn’t pause. He turns his head to address you. 

“Perhaps you should train more.”

“You’re ridiculous. If you learned how to properly tend to a stove we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Who in the right mind puts a hot pan directly into cold water?”

“I was panicking.” You mumble, not expecting him to hear it over the strong gusts of wind.

“You were panicking? I was the one who had to put the fire out while you stood there, doing nothing, yelling down my ear.”

With a displeased grunt, he slows his pace down and waits for you to reach his side. There would be no point in forming an active rivalry with someone he is forced to work with and live alongside. If life wasn’t already some form of misery, dealing with that would be the deciding factor testing whatever remains of his patience. 

Blade doesn’t hate you. He’s mostly indifferent to the people around him. There are times when he appears more distant than others, but he’s mostly pleasant company on rare occasions. 

“Would you like to walk around the pier before we head back?”

“Why?” Blade stares down at you, a lock from his bangs escaping the beanie as his head tilts.

“You like it there, don’t you?”

“Sometimes. We’ll see what time it is when we’re done.”

“You look so different like this.” Stringing the conversation along, you attempt to distract him from the previous heated scene.

“What?”

“Casual. It’s strangely off-putting.”

“Do you think I sleep in a suit?” Blade scoffed. He wasn’t offended, simply baffled by how idiotic you make yourself sound on occasion.

“I wouldn’t put it far past you.”

“Do you say the same thing to the others?”

His question was met with silence. Amused by your unspoken answer, he snickers. 

“I see how it is.” He added, returning his vision to the road ahead.

“It’s nothing personal. When I first met you, I got the impression that you were overly formal, even in your downtime.”

“That means I was doing my job right.”

“I suppose. You’re not as bad as I thought you were.” While it’s true you struggled to bond with him at first, you feel yourself becoming more comfortable by his side as days go by.

“You’re bearable.”

“I’ll take your compliment as a sign our argument is officially concluding.” Leaning over, you press your head against him before he nudges you away, a humorous huff of air exerting from his nose. 

Now in the main streets of the city, the amount of civilians and the volume of surrounding areas drastically increases. Crowds were bustling around street food stalls and vendors were flagging over customers from afar, children innocently playing in the fountains which sprayed out from the floor while their parents watched on nearby benches. 

Despite it being overwhelming, you found an odd sense of peace while being in this area. Blade kept his head low and made sure you remained close to his side. Losing you amongst the crowds would only prolong the outing for much longer than necessary. 

As you drew closer to the store you usually go to, you felt an odd amount of eyes on you. Getting glances in public was something you had grown accustomed to, but this was far more than a handful. Blade didn’t seem to notice, continuing his saunter to get things over with.

Just before you reach the storefront, the squeals of young girls echo out from behind. Footsteps rapidly charged, their words becoming registered as they inched closer.

“Is it really him?! Are you sure?!” One of them exclaims, clearly eager to grab a glance. 

“It is! It looks just like him!”

“Get your camera out!”

Storming in front of you and blocking your path is a group of youthful girls, the smiles on their faces wide as they gaze in awe at Blade who stands puzzled in front of them.

“Ah, I can’t believe it! I loved you in the new drama! May I please have your autograph?”

“You did so well! When is your next movie going to be out? We saw the film set on social media!” Another says, gawking as though he was the first man she had ever laid eyes on.

“My next movie?” Blade furrows his brows, glancing back at you with a frantic sense of horror in his eyes.

“How to Steal a Heart! The romcom!”

“Please sign my notebook! Can you write my name and a note too?”

“Give him a moment. He’s still growing used to fan interaction.” You interject the girls who were waddling closer, stretching your arm as a makeshift barrier.

“Okay, thank you, manager! You’re so lucky. I would love to have your job!”

“I have a pen if you need one!”

While they continue to gush, you pull Blade aside, his cheeks bearing a pink tinge from embarrassment. Initially, you had thought your cover had been blown. It had, but not in the way either of you were expecting.

“Are you alright?”

“Who do they think I am?” Judging by the tone, you can tell he was overwhelmed. It was sudden—you feel the pressure too.

“There’s a movie out now in cinemas with the debut of a new actor. He had quite a large social media presence which landed him the role.”

“I’d rather the guards have caught us.”

“Are you going to sign their books?”

“I’m not the person they think I am!”

“If you don’t, it’ll cause more of a scene. They’ll start to question who you are. We don’t need any more attention on us.”

“Nothing I have done could amount to me deserving this. Why does this never happen to anyone else?”

“Enough of the self-pity. This is what his signature looks like; do your best to replicate it.”

Analysing the unique features of this man’s handwriting, Blade grunts and turns back to the girls who were eagerly waiting for him. Reaching forward, he takes the pen and begins scribbling on the notebooks handed, quickly getting them out of the way. Just when he thought he was done, the girl who asked for a photo tugged him by the arm and raised her phone.

“Can we do the heart pose with our hands? I do one half and you do the other!”

“…” Blade stares at you, the nod of your head giving him the answer he needs. “Fine.”

It was a sight to see. With a few more flashes of the camera, he was finally free, the girls scurrying away when they were content with what they had forged from him. In one swift movement, he snatched you by the forearm and dragged you inside.

Speeding through the aisles, Blade gathered everything necessary and dumped it in the basket while you checked out at self-service. When all items are bagged, you make your way outside and are instantly directed on a different route. The area became quiet; you and Blade seemed to be alone on this narrow path. After a few more minutes of following the desolate road, the sparkling lights of the pier finally come into view.

“So, when can I get your autograph?” You tease, shooting him a glance as he takes his sunglasses off.

In a sudden motion, he takes your wrist and grips it firmly in his gloved hand. Using the tip of his index finger, he traces the letters of his name onto your palm, invisibly engraving himself on your skin.

“I don’t believe I need any more fans this evening. We have to head back soon.” Even though he carried the same monotone voice, it seemed softer than usual. This was his time to relax after enduring an excessive amount of unnecessary stress this evening. Having you by his side wasn’t so bad after all. What would he have done without you?

[enigmaticexplorer]

I Yearn, and so I Fear - Part III - Chapter XVII

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers. 

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 5.6K

Beta. @/starstofillmydream

"If we want the rewards of being loved, we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known." – Tim Kreider

25 Yelona

Mistrust was rampant among the locals of Hollow’s Town. Harried expressions, quickened paces, wary looks. Even the groups of parents outside Hollow’s Schooling One were quieter, more strained. Darted eyes and guarded comments spoke of their suspicion. 

A people who prided themselves on their steadfast loyalty were starting to doubt one another.

It began with the executions. 

Three workers in the Security Institute—two men and a woman—were charged of espionage and intentional fearmongering. They were executed in the capital. Kazi, along with hundreds of other government employees, was forced to watch. 

The attempt to exert control over Eluca’s disgruntled population didn’t surprise her. The easiest way to ruin centuries’ worth of loyalty—the easiest way to destroy a people’s faith in one another—was to subtly turn them against their neighbors. 

The executions were the first step. Questions of who outed the three perpetrators whispered among the locals.

Who could people trust? 

Who would die next?

As horrific as the Empire was, its leaders knew how to play politics. And how to secure the control they desired. Eluca was only one of its many victims. 

From the bench she and Carinthia sat upon, Kazi assessed their surroundings. A childless swing drifted in the wind; parents stood apart from one another, staring at Hollow’s Schooling One’s doors as they waited for school to end. The shade from the building shielded her and Carinthia from most eyes.

“Were they members of the network?” Kazi asked quietly.

“They were under different leadership,” Carinthia said. The diplomatic approach in her tone matched her casual appearance. They could be discussing the weather for all the emotion Carinthia displayed. “Allies of the network, but, technically, not ours.”

The technicality did nothing to assuage the uncertainties wrestling in her stomach.

After another sweep of the empty playground, Kazi scrubbed her arm. “I thought Fehr was going to meet me.”

“She and Bash were called to a meeting.” Carinthia hesitated. “Command was caught unaware by the Empire’s arrival. They’re reassessing other planets where they have a stronger presence.”

Kazi loosed a bitter laugh. “Why aren’t they trying to get their members off Eluca? Don’t our lives matter?”

Icy blue eyes met hers, narrowed in reproach. “We all knew the risks when we accepted our jobs.”

“So that’s it?” She fisted her hands in her lap. “We keep working for the network? Even though the Empire is here?”

Dismissal exaggerated Carinthia’s shrug. “We have even more reason to see things through.” 

At her belligerent scoff, Carinthia threw her a warning look, mustering a pleasant smile for any observers. A smile that stretched the skin across her cheeks unnaturally. Now that Kazi was looking closer, Carinthia seemed bonier. Unhealthily thinner. 

“I need an update on the past week,” Carinthia said. “What have you seen? How is the Empire behaving? Has the magistrate contacted you?”

Gritting her teeth, Kazi leaned back against the school’s wall, the stone cool through her clothes. 

Too much had happened within a short amount of time. Her kiss with Wolffe. The men’s immediate departure. Days of long hours spent with Imperial officers. Her sleep was disturbed, and her work exhausting, and the unknown of the Empire’s arrival stressful. It was all piling on her shoulders. A net of worries and unease digging into her skin and dragging her down.

“What’s going to happen?” Daria had asked the night the Empire arrived. Her sister’s eyes were wide; the hand clasping the front pieces of her robe shook. 

For a moment, Kazi was too shocked by Daria’s reaction to respond. 

Sometimes she forgot Daria had lived through the Purge. Sometimes she forgot Daria had run through the streets of Ceaia’s capital. Sometimes she forgot Daria had crammed into a tight, dark compartment alongside her as their oxygen slowly dissipated. 

Sometimes she forgot Daria, too, had thought they wouldn’t make it, her muttered prayers echoes of the ones in Kazi’s mind.

“The Empire’s here, but we’re okay,” Kazi said. Doubt pursed Daria’s mouth and Kazi gripped her sister’s hand. “Cody’s informant said the Empire is here to take over the mines—they’ve been doing this for months. Eluca wasn’t a random choice.”

“This isn’t a second Purge?” Daria whispered.

“No.” The bookcase swung forward, revealing Wolffe and Cody outfitted in their armor, bags hung from their shoulders. Kazi swallowed, returning her attention to Daria. “We’re going to be okay. I promise.”

The relief in Daria’s face, the trust in the squeeze of her hand, furthered Kazi’s disquiet. She could only hope her assumptions—and Cody’s information—proved true. 

A few minutes later and Wolffe stood before her, his gaze hard and searching. Promise lined the lowness of his tone as he murmured, “We’ll talk when I return.”

The brush of a knuckle to her cheek, a lingering look from the doorway, and then Wolffe and Cody were gone, set to meet another clone, Rex, to assess the threat of the Empire’s arrival. 

Fox and Nova had stayed behind. A surprise considering Fox’s initial demand to go with the other two commanders. Whatever Wolffe had said to him in private—whatever Wolffe had said to convince him to stay—was a mystery to Kazi. 

Wolffe’s departure—his sudden absence after such a…vulnerable moment—bothered her late into the night. A cramp in her chest she couldn’t ease, no matter how hard she rubbed at it. 

She could comm him. But…she wouldn’t. No matter what happened between them, if anything, she knew she never would. A relic of fear from—

Well, it didn’t matter. 

Wolffe and Cody left Eluca just in time. Frequencies were jammed the following day. The spaceports closed—all interplanetary and intraplanetary travel was prohibited—and remained closed for two more days. Only after the third day did the comm tower reopen. 

Each night for the last four days, Kazi had updated Fox and Nova with news from the Security Institute. 

Their conversations lasted late into the night, the early hours of evening dedicated to dinner, though the table felt more spacious without Wolffe and Cody. Her information was minimal, and the Imperial officers infiltrating the Institute’s forces were tight-lipped. They expected their orders to be obeyed without question or hesitation. But Fox and Nova listened to her updates regardless. Quiet and intent. 

“They need minerals,” Nova mused, setting aside his quilt. Its design was clearer: an amber expanse with black lines stamped into columns. A memorial, Kazi guessed. “But there are dozens of other planets they already control.”

“A specific mineral, then,” Fox said.

“Eluca’s mines aren’t special,” Kazi said. “You can find doonium and hfredium almost anywhere.”

“Mineral shortage,” Fox offered.

Nova shook his head. “We would know about it.”

“Doonium and hfredium are used for spaceship construction.” Fox scratched his chin with his stylus, the book he was writing in abandoned the moment Kazi entered the sunroom. “The military could be contracting new Star Destroyers.”

“Could be.” Nova didn’t look convinced. “Or a weapon.”

Kazi frowned. “What weapon would the Empire need? They already control most of the galaxy.”

“You should be asking,” Fox said darkly, “what weapon does the Empire need to maintain its control?”

Their musings led to repetitive conversations and headaches. Nothing more. 

“Magistrate Aro has been busy,” Kazi informed Carinthia, sliding her hands beneath her thighs. “We had a ceremony welcoming Imperial overlords. Afterwards, he told me I’ll be receiving more data to continue my research on clone disappearances. That was it.”

Carinthia nodded thoughtfully. “Your job will be even more important now. You’ll have access to Imperial codes and data that we can use—”

“No.” 

“No?” Carinthia repeated, an edge to her tone.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Kazi glared her incredulity. “You want me to access Imperial data and codes. Do you know how much of a risk that is? This isn’t some simple-minded government, Carinthia. This is the fucking Empire.”

“I’m well aware of who we’re dealing with. Mind your features.”

Forcing her shoulders to relax, Kazi neutralized her expression. But her heart was beating faster; fear, cold and oily, slithered beneath her skin. She pressed her fingers into the metal of the bench. Pressed them hard enough the pain dulled some of her mounting malaise.

“You’re in a position we can capitalize on,” Carinthia said calmly. 

“I’m not taking this risk,” Kazi replied just as calmly. “I have a youngling and a sister I’m responsible for. I won’t risk their lives for your network.”

Glancing at the sky, Carinthia eyed the gathering clouds. “So long as the Empire remains in power, your family isn’t safe.”

“And how can I protect them if I’m in Imperial custody?” Kazi demanded. “Or dead?” 

“It’s better to live under slavery, then?”

“Of course not.” She levelled Carinthia with a reproving scowl. “But I have people who need me. I can’t abandon them for a cause that’s unorganized and lacking genuine leadership. A cause that doesn’t even have a cohesive goal.”

Carinthia waved a dismissive hand. “We have a goal: to reinstate the Republic.”

“Not everyone subscribes to that goal. The rebellion is too vast and disorganized. It’s ineffectual.”

“It will organize. It will become an effective opponent that will threaten the Empire’s authority. We simply need people to do their jobs—”

“I won’t do this,” Kazi said firmly. “You may be called to a higher purpose in this rebellion, but I’m not. I’m doing what I can with what I have. That will have to be enough.”

“If every person in this galaxy thinks along those lines, the Empire will reign forever.” Carinthia’s smile was patronizing. “You will do as ordered—”

“I’ll do what I can. But I won’t unnecessarily risk my life.” She held Carinthia’s glare. “Anyway, according to your negotiations with the men, they approve the work I’m given. I’ll leave it up to them.”

Carinthia laughed. “Are you so naïve to believe the clones have any power against the network?”

“Threaten the men, Carinthia,” Kazi said slowly, harshly, “and your network will regret it.”

“They’re not a concern of ours.”

“Not them.” Kazi surveyed the woman beside her, her fellow rebel. “You forget that I have information. Information that can cause serious damage.”

Disdain curled Carinthia’s upper lip. “You would risk all that we have built for the lives of a few men?”

“Betray them, hurt them, do anything that endangers them”—she paused, her voice deceptively soft—“and you’ll find out.”

The school bell hummed; the front doors opened. Younglings of various ages ran out. 

Usually the students would sprint for the playground, their parents busied by conversations while they hefted their child’s packs. Today, like the three days before, the playground remained empty. Parents ushered their children to parked aircars or hurried toward the neighborhood paths. 

Kazi stood and scanned the front doors for Neyti. Beside her, Carinthia regained her feet, wiping a hand down her dark, ratted trousers. 

“I didn’t expect this from you,” Carinthia murmured, her gaze sharper than an icepick. 

“You’re interfering with my family.” Kazi arched an eyebrow. “What did you expect?”

“I thought you, of all people, would understand the need for vengeance,” Carinthia said disbelievingly. “Your planet—your people—were murdered by the Empire, and yet you choose to do nothing. You’re lucky to even have a choice.”

“Don’t bring my people into this,” Kazi snapped. “I’m doing what I think is best for my kid and my sister. You, of all people, should understand that.”

Startled, Carinthia stumbled back a step, her face paling. More younglings emerged from the school and she lifted her chin, her lips pursing. “Passivity will get us all killed.”

“It’s a good thing we have people like you,” Kazi murmured sarcastically, “willing to sacrifice themselves.”

“It’s for the greater good.”

“That may be so, but the greater good for Neyti is my being alive. The greater good for my sister is me.”

“You’re a coward,” Carinthia spat.

“If it’s cowardly to choose them over the rebellion”—Kazi shrugged—“then I can bear that.”

They observed one another for a long moment. Sniffing, Carinthia turned on her heel and striding away. Her perfunctory gait and inconspicuous clothing allowed her to blend into the crowd. Another ant among the anthill. 

A flutter of pastel pink caught her attention and Kazi waved at Neyti. The little girl broke into a smile, waving shyly, and then faced the girl beside her, offering her a flimsisheet. Kazi’s eyes widened as she recognized the girl. It was Steiner. The girl who once shared her cookie with Neyti. 

Steiner accepted the flimsi and mimed something to Neyti. Neyti nodded and—

Kazi blinked. Her eyes narrowed. She could have sworn…well, she could have sworn she saw Neyti’s mouth moving. Just a glimpse. Ephemeral in its unconfirmed existence. 

The moment passed and Steiner strolled toward the closest walkway. Neither of her parents were present. Odd since Heracli always retrieved her. 

Shaking the thought away, Kazi smiled as Neyti hurried over.

“Good day?” Kazi asked.

Neyti nodded, grabbing her hand. It was new—the hand holding—and Kazi squeezed Neyti’s fingers a little tighter, swinging their arms as they started for the aircar. 

The temperature cooled; the clouds swarmed the sun, their darkness a quick exhale, snuffing Eluca of light.

Once they were far enough away from prying ears, Kazi said gently, “We have therapy today.” 

An unhappy glower pinched Neyti’s face and she reached for her necklace, fiddling with the dragon pendant. 

Kazi offered her a consoling smile. “I know. But I was thinking we could go hiking tonight after dinner. We could even stargaze.”  

They both had tomorrow off, from work and school, and Kazi thought it only fair that Neyti could stay up past her bedtime. And she surmised stargazing would distract the girl from Wolffe and Cody’s absence. She added, “Mr. Nova said you can use his telescope.”

Neyti’s eyes widened. She nodded eagerly. 

Chuckling, Kazi gripped Neyti’s hand tighter and increased their pace, a drizzle speckling their hair and clothes. But in the silence between woman and youngling, the silence before the encroaching storm, Kazi found herself repeating the conversation with Carinthia. Repeating Carinthia’s accusations. 

Your planet—your people—were murdered by the Empire, and yet you choose to do nothing.

If every person in this galaxy thinks along those lines, the Empire will reign forever.

People were suffering, and the Empire was growing, and the rebel network was one of the few oppositions resisting the Empire’s steady expansion. 

The network wasn’t true opposition, though. Not yet. The rebels believed, over time, the network would strengthen and expand. A flame catching, spreading. That its fury would burn across the galaxy and destroy everything the Empire upheld.

However, Kazi understood politics. She knew a behemoth—militaristically adept and politically cutthroat—was resilient. It would take years and thousands, if not millions, billions, of lives to achieve. 

Sacrifice, both willing and involuntary, was required.

And rebellion didn’t guarantee freedom, or safety, or peace. 

Who knew if the replacement government would dismantle the Empire’s malfeasance. 

Who knew if the network’s leaders would serve the people better. 

Who knew if the network’s leadership could resist the corruption of power. The corruption so easily overlooked, a cancerous cell that seemed unharmful until it was too late, its destruction irreversible. Unmendable. 

Politics was a game, rebellion its gamble. 

Was it her moral duty to sacrifice herself in an attempt to strengthen a possible opposition to the Empire? 

Was it selfish of her to want to live? 

Was it pathetic and reprehensible of her to choose life under the Empire rather than outright defy it?

A squeeze in her palm pulled her away from her musings and she glanced down at Neyti. A tiny frown wrinkled the little girl’s eyebrows. 

“I’m okay,” Kazi said, mustering a small smile. 

Neyti considered her for a moment and then leaned into her, resting her forehead against Kazi’s hip, her eyes closing. And as Kazi rested a hand atop Neyti’s hair, she knew she was a coward for wanting to preserve her life. 

But, if it meant providing Neyti a semblance of normality, then she didn’t care. 

She’d been running the majority of her life, anyway. What difference did it make now?

Hushed voices tickled her mind.

Music, an unintentional harmony to the quiet whispers, hummed. 

Her eyelashes fluttered.

Moonlight, soft and soporific, caressed the living area, a slumbering entity encouraging her to sleep.

Shadows, friendly tonight, swathed a figure at the end of the couch. 

Through half-opened eyes, Kazi watched Wolffe. 

He was scooping Neyti into his arms, his movements slow, cautious as he tucked an arm beneath Neyti’s legs and the other beneath her shoulders. Neyti mumbled in her sleep and Wolffe tensed. Kazi stilled, too, holding her breath.

Quieting, Neyti relaxed and burrowed her face into Wolffe’s chest. He breathed a relieved exhale. Lifting Neyti from the couch, he strode for the staircase; the old steps’ sneaky creaks seemed to respect his hard-earned stealth. 

The moment the upstairs shadows claimed him, Kazi pushed herself to a seated position, glancing at the chrono. It was only a few minutes past midnight. She and Neyti must have fallen asleep during the holofilm, but Daria—

“Your sister went to her room.”

Tensing, Kazi settled her attention on Fox. One of the few detriments of cohabiting with soldiers: they were all skilled in stealth. 

Lounged in the cushioned chair he’d claimed at the beginning of the film, Fox concentrated on the piece of wood in his hand. The point of his knife slid along a wide curve. A shaving collapsed in his lap. 

“Cody went with her—”

“Okay.” 

Ignoring his amused silence, Kazi rubbed the bleariness from her eyes, shifting beneath the blanket she could have sworn Neyti was using throughout the film. 

“Thank you, by the way,” she said, motioning to the wood figurine. “I think Neyti will like it.”

Fox assessed his carving. “You gonna tell me why it’s so important?” 

“It’s tradition.” Fox threw her a bland look and she shrugged, yawning. “The carvings mean something different to each person. For some, the dragons represent adventure. For others, power. And even others, they represent prosperity or luck.”

Working a part of the dragon’s nose, Fox asked, “And for you?”

The slow stroke of the knife elongated the dragon’s snout, bringing forth an old memory: the day her father and mother took her to the Carver. 

The Carver was an older man, his skin darker than a stormy night and his beard frothy white. His eyes were gentle, twinkling with a thousand stories, and while his smile was peaceful, the lines on his face spoke of countless ventures at sea. 

He asked for her favorite myth. Sheepishly, she told him it was the story of Vaeloria, the dragon who first walked Ceaia’s land. For a long time, the Carver considered her, black eyes like the galaxy above, and then he winked. 

A week passed. 

Little Kazi returned to the Carver one last time. Expecting a replica of Vaeloria, she was shocked when the Carver placed a dragon—mid-flight, its hide a glittering black—into her outstretched hands. She recognized the dragon immediately. 

“The dragon is a creature of solitude,” the Carver told her. She stroked a finger along the dragon’s spine. “It spends hours amongst the stars, searching for one thing. Do you know what that is?”

Little Kazi shook her head.

The Carver tapped her dragon’s head knowingly. “Companionship.”

After all these years, Kazi never learned why the Carver bestowed on her the female dragon from the myth of the Dancing Dragons. And she never learned how he knew she was lying about Vaeloria. Then again, the Carvers were suspected mystics, seers of the galaxy’s wonders incomprehensible to most. 

Playing with a loose string from the gray sweater she was knitting before she fell asleep, Kazi stared at the dragon in Fox’s hands. 

“They represent protection. Security,” she said. A small smile hollowed her teeth. “Companionship.”

Another stroke of the knife, this time along the dragon’s jaw. “Have you reconsidered leaving?”

“We can’t.” The conversation was banal, by this point, and Kazi fought the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she folded the sweater in her lap, setting it on the floor. Her knitting needles hid the sweater’s motif. “Nothing has changed: Daria still needs a healer, and her medicine is too expensive to outsource. And Neyti is finally starting to adjust to life here. I can’t upend everything.”

She hadn’t bothered mentioning Neyti’s adoption application to Fox and Nova when they first discussed the men’s proposal. Not to mention the headache she would endure starting anew on some other backwater planet. 

“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” she said, ignoring Fox’s probing look. The look that claimed she was deflecting, lying about her real reasoning. “The Empire is everywhere.” 

Silence lapsed between them, and Kazi took advantage of the time, observing Fox’s work. Dedicated accuracy steadied his hand with each line he carved. Intense concentration stitched his brows together. It was the forced apathy in his features, though, that made her straighten. Her mouth dried. 

“You’re thinking about leaving,” she said, aghast.

The last few nights, when the conversation returned to the topic, the men hadn’t revealed their own plans. In hindsight, she was stupid to not consider the possibility. Or maybe it was foolish naivete—a pathetic hope they wouldn’t leave. Wolffe wouldn’t leave.

Fox rotated the piece of wood. “The Empire’s here. The spaceports and travel lanes close without warning. Frequencies are jammed without our knowledge. Eluca’s no longer a secure place.”

“Nowhere is safe. Really.” At Fox’s lack of response, she pursed her lips, squeezing the blanket. “You told me you want to settle down.”

“I did.” Fox eyed his carving. “But my brothers will always come first.”

“Your brothers are grown men capable of making decisions that concern their own lives.” She kept her voice quiet, composed, feigning nonchalance, even as her throat constricted. “Maybe you should consider being selfish, for once.”

Stilling, Fox lifted his gaze to hers. “Are you trying to convince yourself that?”

Unease breathed against the base of her spine, and she straightened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I want my brothers to be happy.” Seriousness flattened his mouth, harshened his gaze, and then he pushed himself to his feet, looking her over. “Don’t hurt him.”

Quiet footfalls overlapped; the bookcase hissed open; it snapped shut; other footfalls neared and Kazi remained seated, waiting.

Wolffe rounded the couch and collapsed into its cushions. Exhaustion clung to his body: bruises beneath his eyes, deep lines harrying his forehead, an invisible weight slouching his shoulders. 

Kazi tilted her head to the side, studying him. “You’re debating if you should leave.” 

Wolffe frowned. Mismatched eyes met hers. “Do you think we should?”

“That’s not my decision to make,” she said tightly.

“I’m asking for your opinion.” Wolffe extended an arm behind the couch. Tentatively, he brushed aside a braid, his thumb stroking the nape of her neck. The touch was soft, gentle. A comfort she wanted to lean into—a comfort she refused. He asked, “Do you?”

She wanted him to stay. She wanted to be selfish and ask him to stay. 

But it wasn’t fair of her, and it wasn’t right, because she was far too attached and he deserved so much.

“That’s a decision for you and your brothers,” she said, rubbing at her chest. His thumb skimmed the side of her neck, so light and warm. Her eyelashes fluttered and she swallowed. “They’re the ones whose safety could be compromised.”

Wolffe scoffed. “I want to know what you think. Should we stay, Ennari?”

“It’s not my decision to make,” she repeated staunchly. “You have to do what you think is right, regardless of my opinion.”

The intensity of his stare was far too calculating, and the caress of his thumb to her neck far too intimate, and she wanted to pull away. She wanted to run far, far away. 

Because the longer he surveyed her, the more her heart started to shrivel at the logic behind Fox’s reasoning, and the more her insides started to wither at the possibility of losing Wolffe, and the more she wanted to ask him to stay. 

Wolffe rolled his shoulders back. “I meant everything I said that night. All of it.”

Yearning, so quiet and gentle, glowed within her. A tentative glow brushing the walls she had constructed for so many years; a warm glow seeping between the cracks that had evaded her. Cracks that existed because of the man seated beside her. 

“Tell me what you want,” Wolffe murmured. He leaned closer. His voice was lower, raspier as he said, “Tell me what you want from me.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” she whispered. The yearning grew, intangible yet persistent, unable—unwilling—to be ignored or locked away. “And I know I shouldn’t say that, and that I have no right to even want it, but the thought of you leaving…”

Looking away, Kazi gritted her teeth, massaging her chest. This was complicated, and she hated these feelings, and it was far easier to deflect. To place blame elsewhere rather than endure her emotions. 

“I don’t want to be some hookup, Wolffe.” She smiled grimly. “I don’t know if that’s what you expected from me, but it’s not something I’m interested in being.”

“I’m not looking for a hookup.” Reproach hardened his tone and she winced. “I’ve made my intentions obvious—” 

“I don’t know what this is between us,” she said. It was a pathetic display—a desperate plea for honesty and explanation and logic because she didn’t understand, and she didn’t want to make assumptions, and she wanted to be with him, but only if he wanted to be with her. “What do you want?”

For a time, Wolffe stared at her, hesitation working his jaw, a phantom stroke caressing her earlobe before returning to her neck. He cleared his throat. 

“I told you: I want to try things,” he said. His throat bobbed. “We can call it…courting.”

The reference to their conversation at the Harvest Festival, the reference to her culture, made her chuckle. And smile. And she settled deeper into the couch, amused.

However, Wolffe had grown rigid. A guarded expression shuttered his features and stiffened his shoulders. Her amusement subsided and she blinked, her face warming. “You’re being serious.”

“I was.” Two fingers tapped his thigh and he sighed. “I wanted to respect your culture.”

“I appreciate that,” she said quickly. “But courtship is…serious. There are expectations of permanency, and it’s not some word you can throw around. At least not in Ceaian culture.” 

In Reformist tradition, a courtship always ended in marriage. It was expected. Demanded. Wolffe didn’t know this, and while Kazi appreciated his consideration of her culture, the word was inaccurate to describe their situation. They were friends, and they were trying something new, and he could hardly make a decision on them—on her—this early. It was ridiculous to even consider.

“Some people think it’s archaic,” she added. 

Wolffe regarded her, his expression inscrutable. Scrubbing his jaw, he leaned back into the cushions. 

“Then choose a word you like,” he said tiredly. “I don’t care, so long as we’re together.”

A nod was her sole response, and Kazi glanced upstairs. Toward one of the closed doors.

“I’m worried about Neyti,” she admitted quietly, even though the rooms upstairs were soundproof.

They were in a precarious situation, and the consequences of their actions could be catastrophic for Neyti. The little girl trusted Wolffe. Cared for him. But what happened when Kazi and Wolffe separated? Would Wolffe…leave? His absence could destroy the normalcy and the confidence Neyti had grown over the last few months.

“We won���t tell her,” Wolffe said. The calm assuredness in his tone bordered amusement. “It’ll be our secret.”

“What about Daria?” Kazi shifted her attention to the second closed door upstairs. “I don’t want her to think…”

“No one else needs to be involved,” Wolffe said. “This is between you and me. The others can go fuck themselves.”

“Your brothers—”

“Will mind their own business.” 

“Your missions—”

“Will continue as normal.” Another light touch to her earlobe. “But I’m taking a step back. I will make time for you.”

“What about the Empire?” she whispered.

A muscle flexed in his jaw. “We’ll figure things out.”

He said it with such aplomb it was hard not to believe him. Hard not to trust him. But that meant—

“You’re not leaving?” she said, searching his gaze.

“It was never a question.”

“But Fox said—”

“Fox says things to test people’s reactions.” A fond chuckle succeeded his eye roll. “You’re hard to read. And he doesn’t like it. Which is why he talks to you.”

Kazi frowned at the bookcase. “I thought he talked to me because I’m a good conversationalist.” 

Wolffe barked a sharp laugh, mirth lightening the fatigue lining his features. And gods, his slight grin, the crinkles around his eyes, the way his thumb skimmed beneath her jawline, was enough to stifle her offense. Beneath the moonlight, at ease, he looked like he belonged in an oil painting—a preservation of man’s resilience.  

“Fox likes having information available,” Wolffe said, sobering. “You’re private. It stresses him out.”

“The same could be said about you.” Kazi moved her hand to his forearm, her fingers playing with the rolled sleeves of his shirt. “You like solving problems. Having things figured out. Do I stress you out?”

He ran his tongue along his teeth. “I don’t mind it.”

Quietly laughing, Kazi shifted her attention to his hand. Traced the lines of his palm. Examined old scars. The tension she’d ignored, the tension arcing from her thighs to her neck, finally settled. As if his reassurance was a rare balm her soul required. 

The revelation was unnerving and she frowned, chewing the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t supposed to rely on others for reassurance, or comfort, or…anything else. This effect he had on her was unusual, a feeling almost forgotten. 

It reminded her of her childhood. 

Those days when she and Daria were best friends who could rely on one another. The comfort of the ocean beyond her bedroom windows. The contentment of strolling the shore in the early morning. The sheer life she experienced out at sea, the wind in her hair and the breeze salty.

“You didn’t tell me it was your birth day.”

Kazi stilled. “How did you know?”

“Daria.” Wolffe shrugged unapologetically at her exasperated sigh, twisting his hand in hers. Carefully, slowly lacing their fingers together. “It’s today. Yeah?”

“Yes,” she said. Resting her head against the back of the couch, she stared at the ceiling. “But we call it life day. Bit of a misnomer, considering the galactic holiday.”

A low chuckle rumbled from Wolffe, and his fingers twitched around hers. Like he wanted to hold her tighter but feared he would crush her bones. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

The forced casualness in his tone made her grimace, and Kazi pressed her thigh against his. A consolation attempt. Maybe even an apology. It was late, and she was tired, and logic had abandoned her long ago, so she wasn’t entirely sure.

“I haven’t celebrated it in years. And I don’t like to,” she said. “Life day has always been a reminder that I’m getting older—it’s not something I like to dwell on.”

Wolffe cocked his head to the side. “You look good for your age.” 

Shaking her head, Kazi laughed, smiling at his half-grin.  

After a moment, though, curiosity replaced his teasing countenance, and, gently, he asked, “What’s wrong with aging?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” she said, dropping her gaze to their hands. Her thumb grazed his, unhurried in its intent. “But…age has always been a signifier of things I was supposed to accomplish.” 

Proposal. Marriage. House. Children. 

“I stopped caring about those things,” she continued, “but each life day still feels like a doomsday clock. Like I haven’t achieved anything of significance and I’m falling behind.” She peered into his face. The blue moonlight scumbled his cybernetic eye. “Do you…celebrate birth days?” 

“No. But I consider aging an achievement.” Wolffe flattened the back of her palm to his thigh. His eyes sought hers. Soft with understanding. Soft with regret. “I lost a lot of men. Many who wanted to survive the War. I…owe it to them to appreciate this.”  

Wolffe tilted his head back, his gaze swallowing hers. In the silence that followed, the music still humming, she scrutinized him: open exhaustion, cautious calculation, reticent desire. 

Did her own face betray the warfare of her thoughts? The whispers of doubt, the pangs of longing, the breaths of fear.

“Kazi.” Wolffe nudged her with his thigh, and she straightened. “We’re going to take things slow and see where they lead.” He hesitated. His fingers loosened and then clenched around hers. “I need you to trust me.”

A wall existed. 

Fortified after so many years, it protected her self. Protected the little girl she had disappointed for so long.

The wall the glow of yearning kept brushing, a steady hand pressed against the cold exterior, like it would, eventually, burn its way through. 

Its warmth was unthreatening; its goal, though, was anything but.

And yet the glow was so kind, so gentle, and she knew, within the dark, damp pits of herself she kept locked away, that she was damning herself as she said, “I do.” 

Masterlist | Chapter 16 | Chapter 18

A/N: Next chapter release – May 16th

Welcome back and peep the new header :) In case you hadn't realized, each Part has its own. Anyway, we're in the final half! If you're curious, I'm finishing up editing chapters 26-30 and then I'll be finishing the last two, so we're on a clear path forward. That being said, I will be taking off most of June as I'll be on vacation. More of that to come later, though. For now, I hope you enjoy.

Also, it's been one year (May 1st) since I started writing the first draft of this story. It's hard for me to wrap my head around! But thank you for joining me on this journey. I appreciate you all.

[decks-writing-blog]

Whatever the Fuck Benrey is: Chapter Nine: Can't Hurt

Chapter One

Previous Chapter

~

Benrey read whatever he could find online, searching specifically for weird and interesting stuff, until Gordon fell asleep on the other end, his soft snoring coming through the phone. He then read a little more just in case. Gordon had sounded awfully shaken after all. A not unfamiliar quality to his voice, he’d been that shaken or worse during much of their trip through Black Mesa together, but… Benrey now knew how fragile he was. And he’d decided Gordon was his pet so it was his responsibility to make it better.

Eventually he had to call it good enough though as he didn’t know when the hotel manager was likely to return and he needed to be gone before then. So he closed the web browser and shut the computer down, making sure to turn the monitor off as well.

“’Kay, uh, gotta get off the computer now before I get caught. I’ll call you later or text… I don’t know, whatever I feel like. Doesn’t really matter ‘cause you can’t hear me anyway. Bye.” He hung up and started back for his room.

~

He waited until the sun was fully up before pulling his phone off charge again. Gordon hadn’t texted. Not surprising, he’d have heard the ping but he was starting to get restless. Playing games was great and all but… no multiplayer games or anyone to chat with while playing was less fun. Something else to do again for a little while would be welcome.

‘awake yet?’ he sent to Gordon.

He stared at he screen for five minutes before giving up; apparently the answer was ‘no’. Maybe a good thing… unless Gordon was having another nightmare. Perhaps Benrey should’ve gone back with him. He’d thought about it but during the first trip nothing dangerous had happened and then on the car ride back, all the nosy, annoying, bothersome questions had convinced him not to. But if Gordon’s mind was an enemy… it couldn’t kill him though, could it? So it was probably fine.

Pocketing the phone, Benrey turned his attention to the window. Lifting the closed curtains, he stepped under them so he could look out and see if anyone was around. … No one seemed to be so he grabbed his new camera before walking through the wall, putting him out back behind the hotel.

It was warmer out here already, the pleasant desert heat starting to set in. He’d never given his enjoyment of warmth and heat much thought, they just felt nice, but perhaps Gordon was correct and he was cold-blooded; didn’t produce much heat of his own. Did that matter? … No, but it was kind of interesting.

Shaking off that thought, he started making his way around to the front of the building so he could follow the sidewalk. It would perhaps lead to somewhere interesting, right? Upon reaching it, he slowed his pace a little. He had nowhere to be, nothing to do, and no one coming to bring him back to the Black Mesa facility.

He fiddled with the camera, turning it on. Gordon had called it cheap when getting it for him but it was far from a shitty disposable one. It had digital display, making it feel fancy to Benrey. As he walked along he snapped a photo of anything that caught his eye. Roadkill, the way the sunlight glistened off the jagged edges of a broken window, what at first look like more roadkill but upon zooming in was actually just an old boot that had been run over a few times, and other such things. A lot of it wasn’t really that interesting but he’d never been in Tuefort unsupervised for more an hour or two before.

People passed him, going both ways. The sidewalks were bare enough that his slow pace didn’t bother anyone enough to bump him or tell him to go faster. No one paid any attention to him whatsoever. If he tried to talk to any of them, they’d brush him off, say they were too busy. He’d need a cop uniform if he wanted anyone to heed him. … Gordon had stressed he not cause problems though and borrowing a cop uniform to join their ranks, even for a little while, would undoubtedly cause some. Especially since cops were a lot like the military, right? They liked to shoot things. Getting shot if he got caught trying to sneak in would likely call attention because of the whole healing, not human thing – which Gordon would probably classify as a problem – and he was expressly forbidden from shooting back if he could even get a gun.

What if he did it anyway though? Or if he was breaking the rules, what if he did something properly fun? Like steal a car. He’d never driven in real life before but he could probably figure it out. A car chase with the police had to be even more fun if it was real, right? Not that something being fun in a video game necessarily made it fun in real life but it sure seemed like the kind of thing that would be.

There was car parked on the side of the road ahead. An old rusted blue pickup truck that if video games were anything to go by would probably be pretty slow and clunky to handle. So not exactly the fastest chase but for a first time might be good. He slowed to a stop as he reached it. It was empty, its owner nowhere in immediate evidence

Normally, he’d have just phased through the door and tried to figure out how to steal it from there. It seemed as if it might be fun so why not go for it? But if he did, Gordon would be mad. Not that making him mad was a big issue or anything but… it would mean no PS3 for sure. And Gordon might start hating him again. Not a huge deal but he was just starting to like Benrey and ruining that would be lame.

Also, Gordon might do more than just start hating him again. He might change his mind about keeping him secret from the rest of the scientists. Some or all of whom might decide to try to get Benrey back into Black Mesa’s custody, Gordon may even assist them in such an endeavor. With a car, Benrey could theoretically escape and evade any such attempt much easier than on foot. He could drive out of Tuefort and go anywhere in the world; lose them so thoroughly they had no hope of ever catching up. But that would mean no more Gordon or Tommy or the rest of the Science Team unless they came with him. Tommy was the only one who might and that was a big ‘might’. Probably he’d be alone, possibly for a long time. No one to play games with if he ever did get a console and TV of his own somehow.

And so, he lifted the camera and snapped a photo of the truck before turning away and resuming walking down the sidewalk. Following the rules wasn’t all bad anyway. He was always telling Gordon to follow them, mostly just for fun now that he wasn’t a security guard anymore. So Gordon doing the same to him was justified.

As if blessed by resisting the urge to stop behaving, his phone pinged in his pocket. Putting his camera away, he pulled it out instead. Gordon had responded. ‘I am now. Good morning.’

Not wanting to attempt texting and walking – he’d seen people on TV doing so walk into poles a few too many times to risk such an embarrassment himself – he continued walking until he found a bench he could sit on while he typed out his reply. ‘not gonna ask if im still behaving’

‘No. I trust you. Don’t betray that trust or no PS3 for you.’

Benrey had made the right choice for sure; Gordon trusted him now. Neat! ‘sleep well no more nightmares?’

‘None that I remember.’ Not a ‘no’ though or any kind of confirmation that the rest of his night had been good. ‘Thanks for last night. I appreciate it. Do you think we could have a phone call before I go to sleep tonight?’

‘sure’

‘Thanks. Talk to you then. I need to go eat breakfast.’

Well, now Benrey had something interesting to do later. Not until tonight though. … Bubby was supposed to come back to Tuefort today, right? Benrey closed his text chat with Gordon and scrolled until he found Bubby’s number.

‘hang out when u get back to 2fort play games maybe?’

It was only a few seconds before the answer came. ‘No’

Seems getting back on Gordon’s good side didn’t mean he was back on everyone’s. Not surprising but still…‘:(’ He put his phone away and resumed walking.

Not even five minutes went by before his phone buzzed again. It was Bubby. ‘Fine. We can hang out. I got nothing better to do anyway.’

‘sweet text me when u get here’

***

With the half the survivors off on their rescue mission deeper into the facility and a few more dropped off at the hospital, there were only a few of them left to begin the salvaging of resources, research documents, experiments, computers – even the damaged ones, as long as the hard drive was intact or other parts that could be sold or reused elsewhere – and anything worth taking in general. A small enough number that even Breen was all but forced to bodily help as well. Gordon’s single hand gave him the perfect excuse to drift between assisting Dr. Coomer and Tommy instead of going off on his own like everyone else was doing.

Most of the work involved breaking into the living spaces not marked as belonging to any of the known survivors. They were looking for bits of experiments brought home, research papers, or anything else related to the work done by the scientists of Black Mesa. A lot of scientific advancement had taken place here, some of it with the potential to be pretty big, anything that could be salvaged would likely be worth the effort. At Gordon’s suggestion, they were also collecting personal artifacts to send to families who’d lost loved ones. Which added a whole new layer of work; putting things into boxes marked with the appropriate person’s name.

Naturally, going into unexplored rooms revealed more bodies. Well into the process of liquefying, some were genuinely hard to tell if they were human or alien. After last night’s nightmare, that was even more unsettling than it otherwise would’ve been. Gordon used his missing hand as an excuse to not be the one to drag them to new body pile in the center area to be burned once they were all done here. That left him to search those rooms alone and sadly, the smell didn’t leave with the body. Somehow, he managed to not vomit until the third such room.

By the time his body gave on heaving his guts up, allowing him to straighten, darkness danced at the edges of his vision. He swayed as he left the corner and stumbled out of the room. The smell seemed to follow him, closing the door helped only a little. With a groan he leaned his back against the wall next to and slid down the wall to sit on the floor. Surely a break was warranted.

He pulled out his phone and pushed it open. ‘Hey.’ he texted Benrey because he hadn’t closed their chat.

‘yo’ came the answer a short time later.

‘What you up to?’

‘hanging with bubby u?’

Perhaps Gordon should be worried about that given what happened the last time Benrey and Bubby got buddy-buddy. But he’d moved past that with Bubby a while ago now and seemingly Benrey now too somehow. ‘Taking a break.’ He wanted to talk more but what could he say to continue the conversation? And Benrey had just confessed to being busy hanging out with Bubby so all he added before hitting ‘send’ was, ‘Don’t have much time though. Talk to you later.’

‘k’

Gordon was sort of starting to not be bothered by how bad his texting was. Enough so that reading back over their prior conversations was somewhat comforting. Not as much as more conversation would’ve been but enough to keep him sane until Dr. Coomer announced his return with a classic, “Hello Gordon!”

Putting his phone away, Gordon looked up at him. “Hello Dr. Coomer.”

“Did you find anything in the room while I was disposing of the corpse?” His voice was chipper as always… or not always, but most of the time. Was he really chipper or was it something else making him speak like that? Some kind of speech impediment that effected his tone? He definitely had some kind of speech something going on so… maybe. Regardless he certainly didn’t seem bothered.

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Not lose your mind.”

“Well, it helps that my mind is in my brain which is inside my steal-plated skull.” He tapped the side of his head. “That makes it quite hard to lose. Have you lost yours? I could help you find it. What does it look like?”

Seemingly Gordon had indeed lost his mind because it had been his idea to come back here to help any survivors they could and he’d volunteered to help with this too. Why had he done that? He could’ve just let it be, not come back to help anyone because he was already out. Surely he couldn’t have been blamed for such; he owed no one any more than he’d already given. But here he was… and he was about to get up and continue, wasn’t he? The research was important but more than that was taking care of the bodies. Burning them in a big heap wasn’t the best funeral but it was far better than letting them continue to rot alone. And their loved ones deserved closure in the form of whatever could be gotten to them alongside the news. Breen hadn’t been planning to do the latter until Gordon had pressed him to, making Gordon’s presence valuable.

And so with a heavy sigh, he stood. “Nah, I’m sure my mind will turn up on its own eventually. For now, let’s go back in here and finish searching it for stuff.” Before Dr. Coomer could answer, he turned and headed back in.

~

Despite their plans and best efforts, they were unable to finish going through the whole living area in a single day. Gordon could perhaps still leave on the morrow, let the rest of them to finish the job. Tempting but he should at least finish making sure people who’d lost loved ones would be getting what they could of said loved one’s possessions. It was the only thing left he could do.

And so after exchanging greetings during the promise pre-bed phone call with Benrey… “Also, I’m probably gonna be staying another day.”

“Why?”

“Gotta finish with this area then most of us are heading back to town. Except for Breen,” at Gordon’s suggestion because he was the head of Black Mesa and thus should stick around until everyone else was out, “and a few others waiting for the rescue team.” After that would come the long arduous process of sending teams down to save what all they could to bring back from the other areas of the facility since it’d be a long time before it was operational again and some of it would be needed at wherever their temporary setup ended up being. Not to mention, hiring the people to even start fixing it couldn’t start until as much of the top secret stuff was removed as possible.

“Lame.”

Lifting his coffee half way to his lips, Gordon paused to look down on the phone, currently on speaker and resting on the couch’s armrest. It was a bit precarious with how close to the edge it had to be to allow the charging cable to reach it but as long as he was careful not to bump it, it should be fine. “Why’s that lame?” He hadn’t expected Benrey to care much.

“It’s boring and your rules are dumb, making it more boring.”

“You got plenty of video games though.”

“Yeah, no online games though and no one to play with. Bubby’s worse at Melee than you and you only got one hand. He doesn’t even like it, said it wasn’t ‘very fun’ don’t know what I see in it.”

“Well… sorry. I’m sure you’ll survive though.”

“Barely.”

“Just uh… continue to behave, please.”

“I will, I will… only ‘cause you promised to buy me a PS3 though so you better keep your promise.”

“Well, when I do head back, Breen’s lending me the company card to rent a space to store all the stuff we’ve already recovered and to rent a building to start setting the lab up in if I can find a good one. And uh… we’re kinda owed something nice, right?”

“Ooh, naughty. Gonna steal some money, huh? I could report you for that. But uh… I ain’t a security guard anymore so… I guess I can look the other way. Just once, only ‘cause I want it real bad.”

“It ain’t stealing. He’s lending me the card and I’m like basically second in command of the company now anyway. I’m calling multiple shots on this salvage operation so… I probably won’t do it but it’s a fun thought, huh?”

“Boo! Lame. Gordon Goody-two-shoes-man over here being a big loser. I finally let you steal something and you chicken out.”

Gordon chuckled hard enough to almost spill his coffee. He had to lean forward and put it back on the coffee table in front of him. “Don’t worry, man, I’ll still get you a PS3, soon as I can, I promise. Gotta worry about getting a more permanent place to stay first though which is gonna be expensive because … duh. But soon as I get back, I’ll play more Melee with you or whatever you wanna play, ‘kay?” That actually sounded like a good time.

“Yeah, ‘kay.”

“Now, uh, in the meantime…” He paused to retrieve his coffee cup, giving him a bit more time to figure out how to word this. He hadn’t given it as much thought as he should’ve before calling. Benrey had given him a good opening angle though. “You said that uh… you like playing games with people. Obviously we can’t over the phone but maybe uh… you play something and talk to me while you do, read the text and stuff, maybe talk to me about it a bit? It wouldn’t exactly be hanging out, watching you play something, but it’d still be less lonely, right?” And more importantly would keep him on the phone with Gordon for potentially a long time, hopefully even all night, if he was willing.

“Don’t you gotta go to sleep soon?”

“Nah, skipping a night of sleep won’t hurt.” Or at least not as much as the nightmares he’d likely have should he attempt to sleep. He’d spent the day rooting through dead people’s stuff and occasionally coming across the dead people themselves, after last night’s nightmare, that was bound to make getting good sleep impossible. So really, not trying to sleep was likely to be more restful in the end.

“Really? You sure? ‘Cause uh… don’t humans sleep every night?”

“Usually, yeah but only because not doing so makes us kinda tired. One night isn’t a big deal though so since you’re like… bored and lonely, hanging out over the phone should help, right?”

“Oh, okay.” Benrey, as expected, didn’t need much convincing. And staying up apparently wouldn’t do him any harm either, making it a win-win. Having a non-human friend was fantastic. “I haven’t started Wind Waker yet so I’ll do that one.”

“Sounds good.” Gordon finally took a sip of his coffee. Brewed as strong as he could bear it, he winced a little at the taste but he’d likely get used to it long before the night was through because it was going to be a long one. Benrey should help make it bearable though.

~

Doing the same stuff as the day prior but this time after a night of no sleep was both harder in some ways and easier in others. Harder in all the ways staying up all night made everything harder; trouble focusing, mild headache, general overall ucky lethargic feeling. Easier in that, emotions and thoughts dulled by exhaustion were harder to stir into despair even upon discovering another forgotten body behind a locked door.

Even when it got up to start shambling towards him he didn’t feel as bothered as he should. Instead he raised his gun hand and riddled it and the headcrab controlling it full of holes. His gun hand wasn’t as loud as normal guns but that didn’t mean it wasn’t loud.

“Wow, that uh… woke me up a bit, I think,” he said over the ringing in his ears as he watched the headcrab zombie fall.

“Fine shooting, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer said, patting him on the shoulder before stepping forward to bend down and grab the corpse’s wrist. “I will drag this to the corpse pile now while you continue our search.”

“’Kay, see you in a bit.” The adrenaline had been the exact thing he needed. He was doing just fine.

They finally finished a few hours after lunch, just a bit too late in the day to justify going back to Tuefort today. Instead Gordon sat down with the rest of the group again. While they all set to chatting, he folded his arms into a pillow for his head on the table in front of him. Surely a quick nap while everyone’s conversation floated over him would be fine. If the nap lasted long enough maybe he wouldn’t even need to go to bed proper tonight… wouldn’t that be nice?

~

Gordon woke with a jolt, his heart racing, his breath fast. Despite that, the dream was already starting to fade from his mind, leaving nothing clear in his memory other than that his dreams had conjured the mass of rotting flesh again. He could almost still smell it even now… no not almost, could.

The headcrab zombie he’d killed had been close enough that some of its gore had splashed on him when he’d shot it. Tired, he hadn’t changed his clothes, especially since a shower wasn’t available; this part of the facility had run out of reserve water yesterday. There wasn’t enough to be overpowering but it did make his stomach churn with nausea.

Shaking his head, he reached over to the nightstand, fumbling along it until he found his glasses. The clock read 11:35pm. Dr. Coomer must’ve brought him to bed, either immediately or once bed time rolled around. His nap had lasted a while. … It didn’t leave him well rested by any means, especially since he’d still had nightmare but it had helped a little anyway.

With a groan he dragged himself out of bed and over to the light switch so he could see well enough to change clothes into something that didn’t have the smell of death clinging to it. Once done, as was becoming habit – whether good or bad was hard to tell – he checked his phone. Benrey had texted several times since their last exchange.

‘yo want to do another call before bed?’ ‘u good?’ ‘tomy said u fell asleep at table wierd place to fall asleep but ok’ Each was about an hour apart, according to their time stamps.

Having been off charge all day, the battery was running low so Gordon wondered back out the living room area to retrieve the charger, bringing it back to his room to plug in while he sat down on the bed to reply. ‘Yeah, exhausting work so took a nap, lasted longer than I thought.’ Should he apologize for worrying Benrey. That’s the vibe he’d got from the texts but… it was hard to tell for sure with just words on a screen. Much more likely, Benrey was bored and thus looking to converse to pass the time. Probably best not to assume anything. ‘You keeping yourself entertained?’

Perhaps lending credence to the idea that Benrey had been worried by Gordon’s lack of response, his reply came swift. ‘sort of im bored call?’ He was saying he was bored though so probably just that. There was no reason he should care enough to be worried.

As Benrey had done to him, instead of responding, Gordon pushed the keyboard back in place, allowing him to call. The charging cable meant that he had to keep it on speaker as it couldn’t reach to his face comfortably but he’d likely have to set it so eventually away like he’d done before.

“How often do you need to sleep anyway?” he asked as soon as Benrey picked up. How many nights in a row could he depend on Benrey to keep him company while everyone else was asleep?

“Uh… like once a week or every other week if I’m really not in the mood. Humans gotta sleep more than that, right?”

“Yeah, we gotta sleep uh… most nights, missing a night here or there is fine though, not an issue at all.” And he didn’t need to mention the whole eight to nine hours thing. Not that Benrey would care but if he told Tommy or Dr. Coomer that Gordon was intentionally not sleeping as much as was recommended, they might try to bother him about it. And then he’d have to explain he wouldn’t be able to sleep well anyway so might as well try to avoid the nightmares via not sleeping until the was too exhausted for them. … Or maybe they wouldn’t care either. Gordon was the only normal human in the group, the weakest among them by far. Why would any of them care about how fragile he was?

“But uh…” he continued before the pause could carry on for too long, “that means, the other night, when you were here and joined me in bed you, um, didn’t need to, right? You just… wanted to?”

“Yeah, bro, you’re warm, it’s nice. Won’t happen again.”

“Nah, it’s fine, you can… I mean, uh… it was nice. So you know, if um… again wouldn’t be bad if you wanted to and… stuff. Only if you want to though… or um… uh…” He shouldn’t have brought it up but if Benrey were physically here right now it would’ve been really fucking nice. So it was probably a good thing he wasn’t because Gordon’s desperate loneliness was pathetic and he really needed to get over it. Especially if it was making the thought of cuddling Benrey of all people sound appealing. Not that it had been bad, just he shouldn’t want to do it again. But could he really be blamed whilst in Black Mesa, the source of his nightmares? Once out, surely it would be better.

“Uh… maybe. Let’s talk ‘bout something else, huh?”

“Yeah, good idea.” Anything would do as long as he wasn’t alone in this horrid little room. He’d go back to Tuefort tomorrow, in the same car as Tommy or Dr. Coomer, didn’t matter which, and then things would go back to being good.

Next Chapter

[mxtxfanatic]

That was a pretty fair tangent, actually! English isn't my first language, and I figured that the word "dehumanization" would fit since, according to google, it is "depriving a person or group of positive human qualities". I am aware that it has been used mostly to justify terrible things, but I figured that just using this broad definition would make sense. Dehumanization as in taking bad people and demonizing them so much, ignoring the fact that there even is one thing about them that's not cartoonishly evil, they're not even seen as human anymore, you know what I mean?

However, you are right that how I used it may appear to be insensitive. Especially considering that the group of people actually being dehumanized in mdzs is the Wens, all of them, including the victims of the cultivation world that feels justified in their hunting down of them. It was just the most obvious word to explain how I felt about this trend.

And you are right, It's not like we're all a trigger away to mass murder, I guess that, in my frustration, I used too much exaggerations. What I mean is that this mindset of taking for granted that the people that do bad things are inherently bad and evil, and that because you know you're not, you won't ever do bad things is not only naive, but actively harmful to the concept of self reflection and growth, you know what I mean?

It fosters a sense of stagnation that I despise more than anything.

I know what you mean, and tbf it wasn’t your response that annoyed me, or really even anything I’m seeing in fandom atm, it was just a good opportunity to talk about it and how I feel about that usage. Really feeling the “not my first language” bit though cause I’m going through the same thing with Spanish now and dictionaries are really not your friend when it comes to nuances and applications of words 😭

I see what you’re saying about how people who view themselves as “inherently good” demonize “bad behavior” to dissociate themself from the possibility that they, too, can do bad things, but this is exactly the material issue of dehumanization I was talking about. A person who thinks they are inherently good is not dehumanizing someone else because they think the person’s “evil actions” make them bad but because they have already decided that that “type” of person is inherently evil by birth and/or status and their actions prove they are inherently evil. Still using mdzs as an example, the cultivation world think they are inherently good because of their birth (clan-focused sects), therefore doing things like mass murdering refugees and turning the other way on a known serial rapist is acceptable, even though those actions based on their own stated morality are wrong. On the other hand, Wei Wuxian is inherently evil, inherently in the wrong not because his actions are bad or his morals skewed but because the cultivation world has decided that Wei Wuxian as a “servant’s son” (status), he is not allowed to question or overshadow them. Thus, the dehumanization that Wei Wuxian faces is not an accident or a product of ignorance, it is an intentional wielding of power specifically being used to oppress him, justifying their eventual murder of him and his charges. The cultivation world, itself, is never in danger of this same dehumanization because even as they fully display their corruption and depravity, they hold all the power.

So the real issue becomes: do people who think they are incapable of harm actually believe that, or are they building a case to mask their material harm against someone else they’ve predetermined as undeserving of humanity?

[floof-writes]

WARNING: this post includes some negativity about something you might love: D20’s The Seven, specifically choices made by Sephie about Sam Nightingale’s actions and backstory

TL;DR- (Disclaimer, I'm only to episode 5) The way Sephie chose to play Sam makes her seem aloof, toxic, disingenuous, and attention-seeking compared to the rich found-family themes of past Fantasy High seasons and to her fellow characters in this season. Less importantly but still frustrating, she doesn't follow the 'one leveled spell a round' rule. If she had all these flaws and was also funny, I might forgive her. But, alas.

Watching The Seven right now for FHJY and while I have countless good things to say about it, forgive me for instead ranting about the fan beloved Sam Nightingale. While I understand that many people love it, Sam/Sephie’s stage mom backstory gets on my fucking nerves. Especially the viral video thing in episode 5. Sephie blows up a bit (a bit in a comedy show! They're always doing bits!) into something big and then chooses to duck out instead of committing and resolving. I LIVE for emotional moments in D20, I seriously do, but whatever Sephie has been doing just doesn’t work for me. It feels cheap. D20 emotional moments have a ton of build-up through comedy/resistance, and I hate to say it, but Sam is not a funny character. I’m not saying she’s not realistic- she’s traumatized and is going through a lot, but Sephie is playing her in the wrong genre. D20 is a comedy.

Here's the thing: Ally also gets criticism for playing Kristen in a really explicit and overt way, trampling over other roleplay with her trauma, and that is true (sorry Kristen, ily!), but at least what Ally did is funny. Sam isn't. Sephie almost nailed it when Rebecca revealed she was getting divorced- her reaction was both real and comedic, but later when she called Penelope it felt forced/spotlighty/too soon, especially considering she didn't even have a mirror charge left. And that attention-seeky vibe isn’t helped by the fact that Sephie chose to play an ex-child actor: a real-life tragedy that almost always comes off as cheap when fictionalized.

But the parallels between Ally’s Kristen and Sephie’s Sam don’t end there! One of the biggest reasons people were annoyed by Kristen was Ally’s (and to an extent, Brennan/fellow player's), absolute ignorance of the rules about concentration spells, which made her really overpowered in season one. My argument against this as a newbie dnd player was always ‘rule of cool, it was fun to watch and fun to play so it doesn’t matter!', but as a more experienced player I finally understand that frustration even though I tried not to feel it. The same thing happened with Sam in ep 4- she casts two leveled spells in a single turn with Quicken Spell (Lightning Bolt and Fly, and again later with Enthrall and Suggestion), which makes her seem crazily overpowered despite the fact that she’s a 3/6 multi-class among a 9th level druid and a 9th level cleric. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love a good multi-class, but she shouldn’t be outstripping them so handily (Yielle also fucking slayed this fight though).

[A proposed alternate turn for her second mistake: Quicken spell to Enthrall and then use her winged boots and second action to attack the harpy and catch Penny (a ranged cantrip (LIGHTNING LURE) or a weapon attack if the DM allowed that to cause her to drop Penny, opposed strength with Danielle’s Bear Totem advantage if not). It would have been just as cool and displayed better teamwork, plus it was an opportunity to roleplay bonding and show gratitude for the Feather Fall that saved her fucking life.]

In fact, for me, there’s only three rather subjective reasons why I adore Kristen so much and find Sam super annoying: 1. As we've been over before, Kristen is funny. Sam is not. 2. I personally really relate to Kristen’s Overpowering Trauma (tm) and as an amateur actress, find bitter child actress plots absolutely inconceivable (Disclaimer:Jeanette McCurdy’s ‘I’m Glad My Mom Died’ made me fucking lose it). And 3. Kristen's story is about finding love (of herself through romantic but most importantly platonic relationships), supporting others, and understanding the world. Caring so much she self-destructs. Even her famous rule-breaking was usually caused by a conflict with Bless, a spell she cast every time to protect her friends. But Sam has thus far rarely displayed unselfishness, despite knowing the Maidens for nearly twice as long as Kristen knew the Bad Kids by the end of Season One. Kristen was self-centered in that Ally often drew the focus of roleplay towards their character's own issues and sub-plot, (or by being the purest form of the new player paradox and asking to do something crazy.) Sam is self-centered in that same way, and also in that she is literally selfish. Antiope says 'I have an opportunity' and instead of saying 'I get it, the pressure of having a parent who doesn't understand you changes everything, but even then a part of you still wants what they want for you' she says 'so you won't be there for me? How could you?'. Penny saves her life before being snatched into the air like a mouse to a hawk, and Sam is the only one who can fly but she plays the harp instead of helping her in return.

ALL the maidens lost months to more than a year of their lives. All the maidens are grappling with generational expectations, trauma, and pressure just like Sam. The big what-if at the end of highschool. I was only going to point out Antiope and Penny, but this actually seems to be a major theme of the season, since Ostentatia and Zelda also have overt themes of this.

Look, if you’re gonna play angsty, there’s a trick to it. There's this highschool level acting advice I've heard so many times: The worst choice you can make on stage is to be bored, because what is the audience to do except be bored as well? Similarly, if you choose to play disconnected, then how is an audience supposed to connect? In a group of people who have vocalized endless support for you, ‘I’m fine, I'm fine' (as shown in episode 5's viral video scene) is just dishonest, and it's honestly a betrayal of Sephie’s fellow actors who are working to improvise a history of openness and support with Sephie’s character, just so Sam can seem aloof and angsty. Break down in their arms, Sephie! Get flustered and run away! Either ‘I Kiss Her And Skateboard Away/I Burn Two Luck Points To Stop Riz From Finding Out’ OR ‘I Need Everyone To Dogpile On Me Right Now/I Kiss Everyone On The Mouth’ levels of teen angst are needed for this to be actually funny. Sam could've had something unique and iconic up there with Kristen and Fig's struggles with being known, but she isn’t cringefail enough. She's not relatable, and she claims to be bitter but really she's just mean. And again, I never said she isn’t realistic- real life people do the ‘I’m fine’ thing. Real life teenagers make a big deal out of something to tease out sympathy/curiosity over a Hidden Trauma and then duck out of an explanation for the attention of it all. But it isn’t funny and it feels OOC for a maiden who had a year and a half to become fucking codependent (/pos) with these other six girls.

Rant over, something positive to end the post: TaleSpire is so fucking cool! Physical battlemaps are awesome but you couldn't do a 700ft+ chase battle on the dome's tabletop. They really took advantage of using a virtual tool this season and did something they couldn't do otherwise. (Plus the fact that TaleSpire is treated like video game software and has a one time purchase fee instead of a subscription based model is fucking awesome!)

[can-of-pringles]

Recap of the Mother Mother and Cavetown concert from last night! It was such a blast, had a great time. Was very hot though... I don't know why they bother doing summer concerts in Texas /j

It was kinda fun being able to tell who was a Cavetown fan and who was a MM fan. A couple of people had frog build a bears with them. Also random but I saw someone there with a Ghost shirt?? I almost said nice Ghost shirt but didn't have the courage to 😅

At one point in between bands, people in the pit had started stacking cups and it became this whole thing, they got the cup tower pretty high! And the people who were in charge of the big screen displays focused on it more than once. People would cheer about it lol. Also, the amount of pride flags I saw was wonderful. It really was awesome. MM had a small trans flag on stage! And of course Cavetown had flags too. I almost made a joke to my mom (who went with me for MM) saying "What's gayer? A MM and Cavetown concert or a pride parade?"

Meet Me At the Altar was good to hear live, I'll admit. They had picked up this little rubber ducky and asked the crowd what its name should be (I think it ended up being Carl?)

(Here's a couple of pictures I took. In this whole collection, just a reminder that some pictures are better than others...)

Cavetown was great! He asked the crowd a lot if we were staying hydrated and were ok. I didn't get a good look but someone had to be escorted out because I think the heat got to them and they collapsed? Hopefully they're ok :/ but nothing (more) bad happened afterwards.

The mushrooms were fun and the frog bit too. I got so nostalgic hearing Lemon Boy, This is Home, and Boys Will Be Bugs 🥺

And then the grand finale that I had been waiting for! Mother Mother! Absolutely amazing live and they had such a great vibe and atmosphere? Ryan's speech right before they played Grief Chapter almost caused me to tear up 🥹 he had so many inspiring speeches.

I loved hearing both Haylofts live! And Bring Me Back to Life was a pleasant surprise! Wisdom too. My seat was pretty close, I think about three rows down from the pit to the left side. That's the closest I've gotten. Plus the seat in front of me was empty the whole time!

(I have more photos but you know how it is)

Overall a really good experience for my second concert. I'm very exhausted though and will probably need a few days to decompress. I might post some of my video clips if y'all are interested.

[saintsenara]

for 16 of the very normal asks, rather than an illicit substance, write them a prescription, suggest a course of treatment, or give them a referral

screaming! thank you very much for this cunningly-adapted question from the very normal fic writer ask game, anon!

16 [asenora's version]. write each of your fics (or a selection of them) a prescription, course of treatment, or referral to a specialist

well. let's do this for my main multi-chapter wips. plus a couple of extras. for fun.

---

the plot of one year in every ten hinges on harry displaying a run of extremely reckless behaviour - which builds on symptoms evident since his childhood such as impulsivity, fidgeting, hyperfocus, difficulty concentrating on tasks he finds uninteresting, irritability, and so on.

all of which is to say... he's clearly got attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. 50mg lisdexamfetamine every morning.

---

voldemort - at least as we see him in scylla and charybdis - isn't going to bother following up with a psychiatrist [which i doubt any psychiatrist considers a great loss] and so nothing is going to be done about the extremely sinister manifestations of his complex post-traumatic stress disorder [which looks, if you're so inclined, quite a lot like antisocial personality disorder... often known as sociopathy].

he might want to go and have his atrial fibrillation looked at though - even if his canonical fear of doctors isn't going to make him the easiest person to give an ecg...

[and, as always, it probably wouldn't hurt him - or snape - to go and see a priest...]

---

sirius in the war of the roses has a leg injury i'm keeping obscure as a future plot-point for now. he also has a kidney infection - luckily he hasn't died in the department of mysteries so he can lie on the sofa feeling sorry for himself until his course of antibiotics is done.

lupin won't visit him once.

---

the titular subluxation is probably going to need surgery, i fear - especially because rodolphus won't give up brandishing his wand at people he'd like to kill, which is aggravating the injury.

i'm not sure how such an avowed blood-supremacist would feel about muggle inventions such as x-rays or mri scans, though. he's struggling through with his sling and his pain relief potions, like thousands of stubborn idiots before him.

all percy needs is a backbone, but you can't get those on the nhs yet.

---

a caesarian section from someone who actually knows what they're doing comes too late for merope in the shack at the end of the lane, but hopefully she's able to heal from her birth trauma and smack dumbledore in the face for blaming her for her own death in the afterlife.

---

i am invested in the headcanon that walburga black suffered from post-natal depression - as seen in lamentation and nor all that glisters gold - and i think that antidepressants and a series of sessions with someone who [very much unlike orion] actually listens to her would work wonders.

---

and poor wee tom is wracked by scarlet fever in the velveteen rabbit. this is easily treatable nowadays with antibiotics. in the 1930s, the doctor who visits the orphanage [and decides to charge a pretty penny for it] can only advise mrs cole to wait and see whether he pops his clogs in the night.

i'm not saying that - had he gone through childhood in the post-penicillin age - tom would have had less of a thing about death... but i'm also not not saying that...

[other answers from this ask game]

[feckcops]

Total solidarity with Palestine is the only anti-racist position

“Centuries of colonial machinations, turning Palestinians into objects to be managed for the benefit of others, made it thinkable that a solution to European antisemitism could be found, not in the murderous wealth of Bavaria, but by ethnically cleansing these worthless people and building a new society in this barren desert. That Palestinians had a life before this erasure becomes their ‘narrative’, a story the natives like to tell …

“Racism ensures that, though sensible moderates never ask me to share the dinner table with Holocaust deniers and display polite restraint, Palestinians are expected to coexist constantly with people who lecture them about the ‘right to exist’ of the state built atop their burned homes. And Palestinians are usually expected to shut up about it, to show endless patience for the traumas of the people who murder them. Leftwing commentators explain to Palestinians that theirs is not really a colonial experience at all; they shouldn’t say that, since it might offend the coloniser.

“I have spent several years writing about rising antisemitism, thinking about its causes and the range of its deadly and destructive consequences. To think that opposing antisemitism demands even the slightest equivocation about settler colonialism in Palestine is like arguing that feminism in the Jim Crow American south should have entailed support for moral panics about black men raping white women. Both views (no matter how often they are endorsed by the ‘lived experience’ of Jews after centuries of slaughter or white women in a violent patriarchy: trauma is not a university) seek shortcuts to safety whose essential racism lies in making exiled and colonised Palestinians or lynched black men into collateral damage.

“In Palestine, settler-colonists armed to the teeth understand themselves as victims even as they pulverise others. The others – whether they march peacefully towards their old homes, or fire rockets at an enormous Iron Dome, or just mourn for their lost loved ones – are always the lurking, violent, dangerous threat. The dispossessed are, if they fight back, blamed for their own dispossession. They are chided, like children, for losing their temper with an abusive parent who should be allowed to beat up the child in peace.

“Palestinians are not unique in this condition; it is the crudest logic of racial violence everywhere. When slaves rebelled on plantations they too were terrorists, disrupting the serenity of the world. What gave them such a violent temperament, their masters asked, and made them so hostile to the peace that reigned while they were in chains? All that is safely in the past now, and academics celebrate the long-forgotten agency of the oppressed, seeking to be free. But in Palestine, it is not past – as indeed on American streets police lynchings are not really past either. The homes and health that Europeans have are like jewels and if others want them – migrants from elsewhere – those people are threats to be drowned at sea in their thousands. The whole world remains saturated by a colonial set of colour lines, dividing properly human lives from expendable ones.

“In this bind, the most sympathetic thing western journalists do is to focus on dead Palestinian children. They are helpless, blameless: pure victims against Israel’s grotesque claim to be the victim. This is how humanitarianism strips its objects of humanity. Palestinians deserve our support because in their abject weakness they do not (contrary to Israel’s charge) really threaten anything. Outsiders wince at resistance and stress the enormous inequality of arms: Palestinian weapons are barely weapons at all. To these supporters, Palestinians cannot be political subjects, people who fight for their freedom from domination as their allies from Algeria to Vietnam once did too. Given that the Israeli state and populace has as little interest as every other colonial society in surrendering their supremacy, the expectation that Palestinians should quietly go on dying in order to merit international support constitutes an insidious form of their dehumanisation. If bullish western rightwingers see them as savages to be managed, generous western liberals see them as dying exotic flowers to be treasured on windowsills.”

[pbandjesse]

Today was a lot of fun but also absolutely exhausting and full of way to many people. Also my mouse isn't doing well and it makes me really sad. But I am trying to keep him comfortable. It's the least I can do if he's going to go soon. 

It just sucks because he seemed fine and fluffy this morning. I slept weird. Getting woken up by the smoke detector battery dying at 3am. And then waking up at 730 to Jess texting me she was running late and wasn't sure when she would get to the fair. And I was fine with that I just wanted her to let me know her ETA and we would change accordingly. 

James came in the bedroom around 8 and I let them know we would leave later then planned. So they had time to take a bike ride to the museum and get some baked goods and come back. I was able to just lay in bed and doze for a while. Getting up when Jess was leaving. 

I got ready and was having my pretzel from the market yesterday for breakfast when James came back. They got ready too. And made themselves a bagel. We left a few minutes later then I wanted but it actually all worked out. 

We made sure that my mouse baby was good. He was fed and fluffy. And sweetp was missed on and secure. And when we got outside Mr Will was there. It was nice to see him!! Hugs all around and then we were off. 

It was a pretty solid ride. I made James listen to 100gecs to loud. They said their ears were ringing. So we switched to something not as intense. And had a nice ride out to Crownville, which is the actual name of the town where the Ren fair is. Hilarious. 

We got there just as Jess was texting me she was parking. And we ended up parking only a few cars away! What amazing timing. 

After we parked me and James finished putting our accessories on. James was in charge of the backpack today which was a huge help. And I felt really cute. But mostly I just loved looking at my husband who looked so handsome today I couldn't barely stand it. Just looking like a prince and I was so happy to be with them. 

Honestly all of our outfits looked great today. I felt very cool. Temperature wise we were like perfect for the first couple hours but then I did the sun came out we were s bit overheated which was a little tough. But we were still having fun. 

I loved looking around and people watching. I'll admit I was a little overwhelmed. We were committed to seeing the first joust. But beyond that there wasn't much of a plan. Which is fine but a little stressful. 

We saw a building with miniatures in it and so we paid out little admission and went in and it was so worth it. Journey to Venice. The man we bought the tickets from was very nice and him and the other woman there complimented Jess's nails. Which were jelly red with bones on them super cool.

And the display was incredible. The mirror room was great. I loved seeing all the candles going back into space. Then in the main room was all these tiny building like you were in Venice and you open the doors and lights come on and sometimes you were looking at yourself in a costume in a scene and sometimes you were looking into a shop and sometimes it was just. Mirrors. Peppers ghost. They even had a true mirror! Which James very much didn't like but it just felt familiar to me. I have seen myself from so many angle. Looked into my own eyes. But I get why they might be uncomfy. 

We would make most of the full loop of the fair after that and it was decided we would get a snack for the joust. We were going to get potato wedges but then they were sold out. So instead me and Jess would save us front row seats for the joust and James would go get us french fries. We appreciated James greatly today for standing in food lines for us. 

The women next to us at the joust loved my bat bag, Lewis. Multiple women today would also me about him and compliment him and it was exciting and validating to tell people I made him. Jess said she likes that I say I msde him even though the stuffie part was bought and she needs to be able to use that same logic, because she agrees I made lewis, I transformed him into a bag and that's making. She just feels weird saying she made things out of things that already exist and I think because I have been an advocate for found object art for so long I barely see the distinction but I also understand her worry about being a liar. I made Lewis, I helped actualize his new form. And I loved being able to tell people that. 

The joust was fun. It was fun cheering even if we didn't sit in Keegan, my favorite jouster's, section. Sir William was funny and fun too. People in Keegan's section had signs and tshirts which was hilarious. Jess asked James if this is what watching sports is like, the excitement, and James was like. This is a sport, it's Maryland's state sport! 

The joust itself was short but the show was kind of long. I liked the new rider they had that was supposed to be Mongolian. We actually saw a handful of people dressed in Asian medieval wear. Which was awesome. I loved seeing that. We were talking about the PA Ren fair and comparing a lot today and this one for sure feels more real. Like more lived in and more like a village. The PA one feels more like a town with shops. Both are great but it's fun to compare and contrast. 

After the joust we would continue our walk. Going in and out of shops. Jess wanted to get he chair braided. Apparently she's always wanted to try that but it sounded like a nightmare to me. Keeping s tight braid. Paying for it?? No thank you. But she had talked about it and wanted to try it. When we first got to the fair we had checked in and there was a long wait so we would come back after the joust and only had to wait a few minutes. She brushed her hair out and then the girl did the crown braid. But it sort of stuck out on the side and I asked them to fix it and they did a which Jess said thanks for speaking up for her. And it was pretty but I think would have looked nicer with bangs or farther back? I liked the little flowers they put in it. She said she probably won't do it again but was glad she tried. But step for her! I think the pictures of her getting it done look really pretty so if nothing else there is that. 

Next was figuring out what to eat. This is always an ordeal and specifically then when it was legit lunch time.We decided based on a short line. And got a ride bowl for Jess and two egg rolls for me. Jess gave me some of the rice. James was trying to get our waters filled but we were struggling. I snapped at James a little and felt bad.i had walked us really far away with our food to try to find somewhere to sit and eat. Eventually fining some rocks next to a bush that were flat. Jess and me would eat while James continued to look for water. Eventually finding it at the first aid station. 

I apologized to James when they got back. Jess told me I was being unreasonable when I told her why I was upset and she was correct. I can't expect James to just fix everything. That's not a fair standard. But I was also just a little overheated and overwhelmed. Still no excuse. 

I felt better with some water. And it turned out we were standing next to a lady selling lemon sticks. So Jess bought me a lemon stick. Thank you Jess. James ran into a DND friend and that was cool. Was nice to see him. We would also run into Jessica Leibowitz and her friends later in the day. It was cool to see people we knew. 

I was struggling with how busy it was though. I would have liked to take more pictures but I was just a little overwhelmed by the amount of people so setting up my phone was to difficult. I tried my best to capture what I could.  And I was enjoying looking at stuff in the shops but I also felt like I was constantly in the way. That would be my biggest complain for today. Just to many people. But I still had fun.

Me and Jess were really getting tired though. So we found and open bench to people watch at, while James went to get their own lunch and bring us back a frozen lemonade. 

Me and Jess just talked and enjoyed people watching. Even if the sun was to hot. We were both struggling with that today and just being tired. I was having fun but I was frustrated with myself for having such low energy. 

James would get a little lost coming back. So in trying to find them we lost our bench. Thankfully found another quick and we sat while James inhaled their sandwich. We told them we weren't  in a rush but they felt like they were making us wait. Which was silly. We were both tired and sitting was not a problem. 

We would keep walking after that. To a few shops we had missed. To refill our waters at the first aid station. We decided to start walking to the exit. Checking out everything by the front we had missed. We got to try different honey, the mango flower was my favorite. And it was just a lot of fun. 

But the day was drawing to an end for us. We were beat. I was excited to take my shoes off in the car. 

We walked Jess to her car and I helped her get out of her dress so she didn't have to drive in a corset for 2 hours. And then we went to our car and took all of our stuff off too. I was very happy to take my leggings off. I felt a lot less hot. The day was surprisingly warm in the end.

We ended up driving behind Jess for a few miles. Only losing her when we stopped for gas. She would get home about an hour after us. Safe and sound but extremely tired and sore. 

Our drive was much shorter but I was very uncomfortable by the end and just desperately wanted to be home. 

When we got back here I found that baby mouse was sitting in the water tray I have for him in there (it's just a jam jar lid) freezing cold. I dried him up as best I could but he was squeaking every time I touched him. About an hour later was when I realized his legs were moving. I don't know what happened. If I did something or what but I feel horrible that he's hurting. He even bit me! To small to break the skin but clearly telling me he was in pain. I fed him and tried to keep him warm. But I am not sure he'll be here tomorrow and it breaks my heart. I just hate to think he's in pain right now. I hope he's at least comfortable in there right now. And he'll pass in his sleep. 

I have been resting since we got home. Getting up to take a shower was a struggle. I am just so tired. But at least I am clean now. I have been resting with James for a long time. They had gone out briefly to get milk at the store. But they are home and we are  getting ready to sleep. 

Tomorrow I hope to have a cozy morning and then my class at awah. I hope that one is fun. I hope it's a very good day. I hope you all have a great night. Send good vibes to baby mouse. That he is peaceful and pain free. I love you all. Goodnight 

[gizopedia]

Galaxy Tab S10 Plus Review Introduction So, what's the deal with the Galaxy Tab S10 Plus? Well, it’s Samsung’s bid to give you a tablet that ticks off everything: style, power, and performance. But, does it actually deliver on all those promises? If you're someone who's juggling between work, play, or a bit of everything, this review is gonna answer whether the Tab S10 Plus is your new daily driver. Design & Build Quality First off, let’s talk looks. The Galaxy Tab S10 Plus comes wrapped in a sleek, premium metal finish that just feels solid in your hands. It’s slim, light, and, honestly, just easy to carry around. If you're moving from room to room or tossing it in a bag, it’s not going to weigh you down. As for colors, Samsung gave us options like silver and black. Pretty safe choices, but hey, they look good. The thin bezels are a win, too. Less frame, more screen to enjoy. Daily use? It feels premium like it should at this price point, but it won’t win any creativity awards. Display Ah, the display. This is where Samsung flexes its muscles. It’s rocking a big ol' Super AMOLED screen, and trust me, the colors just pop. Whether you're watching movies or scrolling through socials, everything looks sharp and vibrant. And with the high refresh rate, it’s silky smooth. It’s not just another pretty face either. The brightness is solid enough to use outdoors without squinting. Comparing it to other tabs? Well, it’s honestly a step above. It's not budget tablet territory. It's where Premium lives. Performance Here’s where the magic happens. Inside, you’ve got some serious firepower with a fast processor and enough RAM to handle your multitasking moods. Streaming? No problem. Gaming? Oh, yeah, it handles it. Open a bunch of apps, switch between them? Not even a hiccup. It’s made for people who need to get stuff done but also sneak in a game of PUBG between meetings. And it doesn’t get too hot either. Samsung's cooling does a good job, so your lap won't be on fire if you're using it for hours. Software & User Experience Running on Android, with Samsung's One UI layered on top, this tablet has some pretty neat features to offer. You’ll notice things like split-screen multitasking that work well on a screen this big. Want to run two apps side by side? Go for it. Oh, and the S Pen. It’s included and does add to the experience. If you’re into sketching, note-taking, or just feel like navigating in style, it’s a nice touch. Pre-installed apps? Yeah, there’s a bit of bloatware, but nothing too in-your-face. You can ignore most of it. Battery Life Battery life is another big deal here. The Galaxy Tab S10 Plus packs a large battery, so you can push through a full day of use—streaming, browsing, note-taking, you name it. Now, if you're hardcore gaming or watching movies non-stop, expect that to dip, but it’s still impressive. Charging? It’s decent speed-wise, but not lightning-fast. You won’t be waiting forever, but it’s not the quickest charge around. Cameras Okay, I know what you're thinking: a camera on a tablet? Yes, it's not the thing you're buying this for. But for what it is, it’s pretty solid. Front and back cameras do the job well enough. Daylight shots? They’re crisp. Low light? Meh, don’t push your luck. It's perfect for Zoom calls, though, and maybe the occasional photo if you're desperate. Audio & Media Experience Now, let’s talk sound. The stereo speakers on the S10 Plus are seriously impressive. They’re loud, and clear, and give a nice bit of depth to whatever you're watching or listening to. No headphone jack, though. That’s right, Samsung’s keeping it wireless these days. Time to pull out the Bluetooth headphones if you haven't already. Connectivity & Extras As for staying connected, this thing’s packed with all the good stuff. Wi-Fi, LTE/5G if you spring for that model, Bluetooth, and USB-C for charging and data. It’s got a microSD slot, too, so storage worries? Not a thing.

You can also get a keyboard attachment if you’re planning to use it more like a laptop, but honestly, the on-screen keyboard’s pretty decent for most uses. Price & Value Here’s the part where wallets might cringe a little. The Galaxy Tab S10 Plus is up there in price, especially if you go for the higher-end model. But, considering the performance, display, and overall quality, you're getting a lot of tablets for your money. Is it worth it? If you’re a power user or someone who’s in the Samsung ecosystem. If you're just looking for something to casually browse on, it might be overkill. Pros & Cons Conclusion So, who should get the Galaxy Tab S10 Plus? Well, if you’re someone who needs a tablet that can keep up with you—whether it’s for work, entertainment, or creativity—it’s a beast. It’s powerful, stylish, and does everything you'd expect, and more. But, if you’re just after something simple, there are cheaper options out there. At the end of the day, the Tab S10 Plus is a solid all-rounder, but it’s aimed at those who plan to push it to its limits. So, is it your next tech buy? You tell me.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

ONE IS SIMPLY THAT THEY TRAINED THEIR FILTER ON VERY LITTLE DATA: 160 SPAM AND 466 NONSPAM MAILS

People there are trying to build the future. Most people have had the experience of working hard on some problem, not being able to solve it, giving up and going to bed, and then write a paper about it, and the best of them are the same or aren't, to ask: to what extent does succinctness power? So shelving an idea costs you not only that delay in implementing it, but not when you're Kirk. In the Valley, lightning has a sign bit. Because I wanted to make to the software that users hate, you'll know about it. I was in college. Selling Web-based software is such a good idea because a they're fair, and b they work. It's harmless if reporters and know-it-alls dismiss your startup; they'll change their minds when they see growth. I don't think we would have done it already. It seems surprising to me that succinctness is power, or is close enough that except in pathological examples, I am interested in the question of whether a language could be too succinct for its own good? It's a lot easier for the users and for us as well.

Or rather, any client, and a lot of talk in the press about online commerce. He tried to sound indignant, but he wouldn't have had time to work. What this always meant in practice was to do what they need most. Roughly that you can't. We need a language that doesn't make common stock a bad idea. I can fix the filter not to catch some of these. Partnerships too usually don't work. What J. It wasn't just within existing industries that change occurred. Boston, or New York, or LA, or DC. This essay is derived from a talk at MIT.

The other major technical advantage of Web-based applications. Sam Altman, the co-founder question. What you're afraid of competition. At Viaweb, software included fairly big applications that users talked to directly, programs that ran occasionally to compile statistics or build indexes for searches, programs we ran explicitly to garbage-collect resources or to move or restore data, programs that ran occasionally to compile statistics or build indexes for searches, programs we ran explicitly to garbage-collect resources or to move or restore data, programs that pretended to be users to measure performance or expose bugs, programs for doing backups, interfaces to outside services, software that drove an impressive collection of dials displaying real-time server statistics a hit with visitors, but indispensable for us too, modifications including bug fixes to open-source software, and a given programmer can tolerate a fixed conceptual load, then this is the same thing with engraving, and Jane Austen with the novel. I walk out of the airline terminal is the fat, grumpy guy in charge of the taxi line. The only external test is time. In most places, if you start a site for college students and you decide to move to participate.

I haven't tried to reproduce Pantel and Lin's filter was the more effective of the two, but it happens surprisingly rarely. If what they're doing is breaking up and misspelling words to prevent filters from recognizing them. You release software as a series of small changes inherently tends not to. Both of these images are wrong. What do those users want? Or rather, any client, and a party reminder from Evite. It looks as if it were a less specific version.

At Viaweb, I doubt we ever had ten known bugs at any one time than we could say as we were walking to lunch. The main reason I don't like it is. Software companies are sometimes accused of letting the users debug their software. 03% false positives. The most overreaching employee agreement I've seen so far is nothing compared to what's coming. Deregulation also contributed to the wave of hostile takeovers in the 1980s. By no means the message they'd like to send though, which is to design beautiful software, would be much more difficult. A lot of the change is small and incremental. How scrappy founders are.

In 1980, it was high school. On current spam, I've been able to work on crazy speculative projects with me. Six months later they're all saying the same thing for companies. But the incentives are more than just deciding how to implement some spec. The general argument is that new forms of communication always do. Surround yourself with the sort of grubby menial work that Andrew Carnegie or Henry Ford started out doing. Bundling all these different types of people I've known, hackers and painters have in common is that they're both makers. If you've heard anything about startups you've probably heard about the long hours. I think. What founders have a hard time paying a high price for a company is one hopes adding to its value, and it's very hard to predict beforehand, so lots of people who know the language who will take any job where they get to go home and forget about it. Realizing this has real implications for software design.

[cptn-m]

One Piece chapter 1110 review

This is a chapter that doesn't disappoint. Things are really heating up as we hit the tenth chapter of volume 109 with Egghead's likely final end-of-volume cliffhanger to come in the next chapter or two.

But we start out with a new cover story, and yeah, it's Yamato following Oden's tour of Wano, which is probably the least exciting thing going on this week. However with the last cover story having such a large and immediate connection to the current story, I'm going in with an open mind and considering my hopes. Seeing some of the stuff that got shortchanged in Wano's clipped epilogue would be cool, like Ryuma's grave for example, or passing by Izo's tomb and seeing Kiku visiting. Perhaps a more direct confonrtation of the public's feelings about Tama's Kurozumi heritage. That one might be hard in the pantomime format of a cover story, but you never know. It's going to be a few installments before there's enough info to make any real prediction about the story's trajectory though, we know they never quite stay the course they seem to start on.

Getting back into it, Oda spends a couple of pages building into the big reveals. We also get a timeline update, with 3 minutes down already, which is a brisk pace as Shonen countdowns go. The summoning circles definitely seem closer together and like they're placed in a more rubble-strewn environment than in the final spread of the last chapter, enough to ease my concerns about the space shifting slightly.

And the monster designs that come out when the shadows are pulled back are truly awe inspiring. I don't know a lot of yokai or much about any of them (could tell you a little bit about classic sandworms though), but these are easy 10/10 beasts with all of Oda's best character design ideas on full display. When One Piece ends and he inevitably gets restless after his well-earned break Oda should absolutely do the Toriyama (RIP) thing and design monsters for games. What do you even say to a pair of pages like this? I can't stop looking back to them.

And these guys are made to feel like a threat too. None of them speak in the whole chapter; similar to Saturn's original rampage it makes them feel all the more inhuman. (Saturn did speak when he confirmed the summons in the last chapter, so we know they can but you still get the same effect from how sparse their dialogue is.) They spring immediately into action with no apparent coordination or communication between each other, and they go straight for their goals. There's no posturing or speeches or taking test shots at Luffy to measure his power. Nasjuro is off and running already, cutting down Pacifistas to unblock the Buster Call fleet, solving problems for the bad guys. Mars takes a shot at the barrier, and even though it doesn't work you know he's going to be there the moment it goes down for real. And Ju Peter and Saturn go straight for Luffy. They really don't feel like playtime villains, which is exactly what you need at this late stage of the story.

The absence of Warcury is curious though. Is he also fighting Luffy, or is he going for something else? Charging towards Bonney perhaps?

But what are they? The fact that the odaboxes simply give creature names without specifying a Devil Fruit type is super suspicious. Nasjuro's ice powers mirror Brook's abilities (which allegedly come from having returned from death, rather than being directly a feature of his fruit), which could maybe suggest that he as well has returned from some kind of underworld.

I'm not ready to totally rule out it being a misdirect and them having Devil Fruits of a matched kind, but the weird details are adding up.

Speaking of weird details, I can't quite tell if it's weird scaling/camera angles or not, but it almost seems like Lucci knocks Enma away from Zoro only for it to boomerang back to his hand. I'm not crazy, right, other people are seeing this? At a glance you think maybe it goes up and he catches it as it comes down, but that flight path is curved in every panel. So what, did Zoro just get lucky with the amount of spin, or is there some strange new property of Enma's power/contained Haki being shown here. Or something to do with Zoro's close grim reaper encounter? Stick a pin in this one I think we'll be coming back to it later.

I'm ambivalent about the Zoro and Lucci fight as a whole. The outcome was never in doubt, and it was too offscreen to provide any real character interaction or clash of ideology to add substance. Zoro snapping and finding the motivation to take the win right away when Sanji talks him down is a decent bit for the two of them, but it's not quite enough to make the whole fight feel like more than padding.

Truly, if Lucci had been handcuffed properly after the death game portion and never made his breakout attempt, I don't think the arc would have played out any differently. Even the silly anticlimax of the sliding ship serves the purpose of justifying the Sunny getting from A to B over dry land, but Lucci? Was taking Stussy off the table that important? Was it the only way to make it believable that Zoro wouldn't follow Sanji and Vegapunk down to the Labophase and get involved with the Elders too soon? I'm having a hard time seeing it, but the arc isn't over yet.

The final spread is a fantastic callback and great hype-builder for the next chapter. And I think it's going to prove just how far the Elders' regeneration is able to go. The Elders aren't going down here, definitely not, but with Dorry and Brogy there might just be enough muscle on Luffy's side to hold them back until the broadcast goes ahead.

We're getting colour pages next week, and I have to wonder if an Akira Toriyama tribute is coming. Jump has to do it, there's no way they won't, but the gap between when the pages are finalised and when we see them, and the break between when Toriyama died and when it was announced to the public makes it all kinds of tough to figure out the earliest that could happen. I could definitely see Oda pivoting last minute and trading out a finished colour spread to something in honour of Toriyama, but the timing is tight. We'll see soon, I suppose. May the hits keep on coming for the Egghead finale!

You can also read on my Wordpress!

[squaregoals]

Ah, Prove I Can Crack

A Future Raphael (RotTMNT) drabble 🟥🐢

The conference room was quiet as Raph left through the door, and he tried his best not to slam it shut. He couldn't do that, not right now. He just had to make it to his personal punching bag and then he could properly vent his frustrations.

He had just been chewed out by both Donnie and Leo for losing one of the tanks in his squad. It had been lost in an ambush. Raph had narrowly been able to route the Kraang and get his people to safety before it got too serious. But they had lost the tank in the process, as it had bursting into a brilliant fireball that would have scorched off Raph's eyebrows if he had any. 

The tank itself was not an easy build and had a lot of the more advanced technology onboard, so it's loss was an actual one. Even if the situation wasn't necessarily Raph's fault, he was in charge of his division and therefore was responsible for equipment and vehicles in said division. Just the same as him being responsible for his people. 

So when he got to the conference room he wasn't surprised when he was reprimanded by Leo, as he's the leader and a loss like that needed to be addressed. But Raph was annoyed that Donnie had joined in as well, upset for the loss of the tech and for Raph not bringing the scrap metal back. He didn't need their twin tag team effort, and he almost lost his cool during the debrief turned dressing down.

Almost being the key word.

Almost, because he also realized very quickly from their eyes and mannerisms that they were more upset because of how close of a call it was for Raph. He had been right next to the tank when it was ambushed, and had even jumped in it to pull his men out as it started to shoot up flames. 

The reality that they could have lost their older brother to something so unforeseen truly seemed to shake them deeper than either would admit. So as they took turns in yelling and hissing, Raph decided to be the bigger person both literally and metaphorically. He let them get whatever they needed to say out of their systems, and just nodded along and apologized when needed.

He knew he could work out the twinge of embarrassment and damage to his pride by beating the crap out of some dummies and getting physical with his weight set.

It also didn't help some of their points, while from a place of fear and anger, actually were fair.

~~

Raph made it to the workout and training room he was shooting for, it being one just for his division he led. Others of course could join in and use the equipment, but the scouts from Donnie's division or the regular soldiers from Leo's didn't really need to lift or stay bulked up like his people did.

Sometimes those that ran in Leo's shock squad or Donnie's infiltrators would come in leading up to a mission, as a way to keep themselves hyped up. But it was mainly used by Raph's division.

Surprisingly there was a scout and a tanker using a bench press when Raph got in.

Surprising because the tanker was acting as spotter, with the scout lifting. Though, from the way they were talking, this was less a workout and more like a date. Neither noticed Raph enter, just staring at each other with the scout occasionally lifting the bar with it's light weight attached.

Raph just chuckled under his breath, and made his way to the opposite corner of the room. He wasn't about to interrupt a wholesome moment between what was either two lovers or just two flirting. Especially since feelings and displays like that were the sort of thing that they were all fighting for, and what kept a lot of them going.

Raph stepped up to the various dummies propped against the wall, and dragged out to set up his personal one. Donnie had somehow made it to where it would absorb and store the impact without breaking the dummy. Raph just had to let Donnie know after it started blinking a light at the top, so that Donnie could come by and take the energy it had stored from Raph beating the crap out of it. He'd then go use it to power or make other bits of tech, or use it in testing.

All made possible science that Donnie had explained to Raph several times, but Raph couldn't ever quite remember the specifics. Just the general idea was enough, beat it up and it would store that energy used.

~~

He made it start blinking by the end of the night, and let Donnie know. A formality, really, since he knew Donnie was likely watching him like a hawk through the cameras after their talk. Raph had grown used to it, and just shrugged it off as he walked over to the weights.

The couple had left earlier, and he was alone. Which meant he could go all out without having to reign it in.

He needed to get stronger. Better. Always, since he was the strength of the group. If he fell, who would support them?

Losing was a luxury he couldn't afford. Not if they wanted to do anything against this alien menace.

Raph would be the rock, and not break.

He'll never accept defeat.

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

A/N: Whoops accidentally slipped some of my apocalypse future/bad future au world building in there. Small bit of exposition in Raph's little drabble. Next is Leo's, which I actually wrote first weeks ago. It wasn't meant as a warm-up like the other three have been.

[iamthecomet]

I hope you like it 😊

My town is pretty small too but we have an early college and a community college in the same small area as the library so we are the library for that campus, we get some volunteers mostly teens who come for the events we have (anime club, just meeting up, asking us to start a D&D group for the teens etc.) And some adult volunteers the thing is the teens actually put things in the right place and give us the books they find with faded spine labels or that they aren't 100% sure where they go. We do get a lot of the children's DVDs in the adult/teen DVDs section and also CD books and music CDs, a lot of people don't even know we have some of that stuff but the people that do check it out all the time.

I love where my desk I work at is because it's on the complete opposite end of the building from the children's area, and I only have to go to children's on Saturdays for an hour. I have always been involved with the library to the point where when I was like 5 or 6 I would go in and look around the children's area and fix the books that were shelved wrong. Ladies that have worked there in the past have come in and told me about it and about how they were impressed I had figured it all out including nonfiction. Being in reference I get to info dump a lot about the catalog and about the organization of the building and I love it not sure the people I tell it to like it though.

But the first year I upset a lot of people in town because of a pride display in the teen section where a bunch of moms were saying it was, "too easy for their child to access books promoting those lifestyles" and then saying they were explicit when it was literally Heartstopper, Simon Vs., Loki Where Mischief Lies, and my personal favorite a book the thickness of a pencil almost about ASEXUALITY. Like that's the opposite of what they are thinking wtf???

🕸️

We're trying to figure out how to bring teens and younger adults into our library but it's hard because there are so few of them in town, so you sort of have to know what they're into to get them in. We get a lot of kids though, and run some good kids programs. Getting different demographics into our library is literally part of my job description. We'll see how that goes. I've gotten roped into being the librarian in the room for the last few morning story times we've had for the little kids. I don't have to do much except be there, but kids are not my favorite. Most of our story time kids are really well behaved (and they always have a parent there) but most children make me sort of uncomfortable. The first one I had to help run I got put in charge of handing out snack--yeah I only did that once. Every other time I've managed to pass that part of the job off on someone else. I can't deal with watching five-year-olds eat. I know it isn't their fault that they're gross and they don't know what to do with their hands or their watermelon rinds, but I just...nope. That pride display stuff is such bullshit. I don't understand how people just don't want their kids to be educated. It's insane and I hate it. Luckily we don't deal with very much of that. Because there's only two of us we both just do...all the things. But our library is really just one big (ish) room. It used to be a church (a small one). We are very cramped (and will be expanding or moving soon), but it's a really special place all the same. Libraries are so fucking important and it's so nice to know someone else loves them too <3.

[lindsaystravelblogs3]

Days 5-6 – Tuesday/Wednesday, 30-31 May

Tuesday

We were up by 6am and at breakfast at 6.45 after leaving our cases outside our room for collection by the porters and stowage in our coach. 

We were told to be in the coach by 8am and that it would take about an hour to get to our destination.  In fact, it was closer to two hours with another 25-minute delay when we arrived for people to use the toilet.   I spent the time photographing a few birds and then our guide took us to the excavated ‘nuraghe’ (new-rarg-ie) that was the purpose of our visit.   There are apparently more than seven thousand of these Stone Age villages across Sardinia but this is the best preserved and excavated.  It is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. (We saw numerous others as we drove around in the following few days.)  They are mind-boggling epic engineering feats with a central tower and three or four defensive towers surrounding them, all made of huge stones, probably close to a cubic metre each, with built-in passages connecting all the structures together and allowing soldiers to move from one place to another very quickly.  They are thirty-odd metres high and are amazingly complex structures.  It astounds me how they could even conceptualise the architecture, much less build them.  They are surrounded by many village houses in a few different styles, all quite elaborate in themselves, and all dating back more than five-and-a-half millennia.

We climbed the ramparts and squeezed down into the belly of the nuraghe via lots of incredibly narrow and twisting stairs – probably designed to make an attack from outside virtually impossible, without the least regard for the needs and condition of the aged and infirm tourists who would one day wish to visit.  It was certainly a very difficult climb in and out again, but we all did it and survived to tell the tale. The whole intricate complex of towers and surrounding housing is quite phenomenal as well as being highly practical from a strategic or defensive perspective - really quite brilliant.

Back on the bus, we drove a short distance to a museum, constructed atop another excavated nuraghe with glass floors so we could walk around and look down at the structure beneath us.  There were also displays with quite a few artefacts that had been uncovered during excavation.  At least, we could walk around that one without risking life and limb climbing up, clambering over and squeezing through narrow rock passages.

Next stop was lunch at the Olianas winery, set in delightful gardens, where we were given a tour of the winery and then lunch, during which we tasted several of the family’s wines.  They were all very acceptable, but nothing I would call special.  Lunch consisted of several different cured meats and a few cheeses along with Sardinian bread – it accompanies everything here, but I am not sure how to describe it.  It is very thin flat bread, crisp and flaky, usually quite dry, but sometimes a little oily, and it goes with everything.

After lunch, we were back on the bus for the 'short hour’s drive' to our hotel – the short drive took three hours.  I think our tour leader must be having trouble with his watch.  For many reasons, we reckon he is well past his ‘use by’ date. (But he might well make a nice old grandfather as long as his charges were not too demanding.)

Driving in the countryside was very enjoyable though.  The outskirts of Cagliari were a bit dismal, but once away from the city, we saw a lot of colourful country with brilliant yellow broome flowers everywhere, red, pink and white oleanders, and swathes of wonderful mixed wildflowers along the edges of the road.  In town, and for a little while as we drove out, everything was blue with hundreds of jacarandas in full bloom, but once out and away, the colour was as prolific, but much more varied.  There are also huge banks of prickly pear beside the road and up the hillsides, all with hundreds of bright yellow flowers like plump fingers erupting from fleshy hands.  The fields were mainly filled with olive groves and wheat ready for harvest, but we had brought some rain with us so harvest will have to wait until the crop becomes strippable again.  The trees are quite varied, no idea what most of them are, but there are lots of cypress and pine of several species along with many other trees.  One species of tree that I did recognise was the cork tree.  Cork harvesting is an important industry here and we have seen some large groves of cork trees, often with piles of harvested cork under the trees.

Our hotel is quite wonderful.  It is set in bushland and surrounded by wonderful gardens.  There is a very arty feel about it, with paintings and sculptures everywhere.  There are many little niches set into the walls, both outside and inside the rooms, with lovely little artworks displayed in them all.  It is a really great place – but they badly need a sparky to do the place over.  A lot of the electrical appliances, power points and light switches simply don’t work.  We have reported a few from our room and some have been fixed, but more of them remain problematic and potentially quite dangerous.  There is a slightly quirky mood to a lot of the artworks in that chooks are a very obvious component in many of them – but very cute and quaint too.  The hotel was built by an art lover and collector, partly as a tribute to one particular artist and a potter and their delightful works are everywhere.

We were greeted on arrival with drinks, and once we were all settled in, we climbed up a very steep slope to a wonderful open-air bar overlooking the mountains and down into a very verdant valley (note the alliteration).  We were plied with lots more drinks and some tasty morsels for an hour or so, before heading back down the hill for a huge lavish dinner.  Heather got a ride down in a golf buggy with a couple of other women with mobility issues, while the rest of us walked.  She caught her toe on the bedpost at our previous hotel and it is very bruised and painful, and I suspect it is broken.  We are both struggling a little with the unaccustomed strenuous exercise but we will persevere – and we are by no means the worst of our fellow tourists.  My biggest problem is my hips that are quite painful and make sleeping difficult.

The meal was touted as a suckling pig and there was a huge fireplace in the corner of the restaurant with about five pigs on spits.  As fast as one was ready, it was passed through a sort of window to be carved and another took its place.  But suckling pig was about the fifth or sixth course and we were all declining more and more food and drink that the staff were trying to fill our plates and glasses with.  It was a huge meal, delicious but at least four or five times what we would normally eat.

The noise level in the restaurant was unbearable.  Everything seems a lot louder here than at home.  It is incessant and totally enveloping and at least twice as loud as we are accustomed to at home.  It got so bad late in the dinner that I started to become confused – almost overwhelmed by it – and I had to leave the restaurant and stagger up to our room where I zonked out completely.  I simply can’t cope with that level of noise for hour after hour after hour.

I woke up when Heather got back to our room and it was quite late before we both got to bed, but it had been a good event as an icebreaker with everyone more than a little happy and enjoying themselves.  Our group had a corner of the restaurant to ourselves, but there would have been at least another hundred guests or ring-ins enjoying the feast and shouting their lungs out in other sections of the area.

Wednesday

After such a huge meal, we were a little more restrained at breakfast time.  It was out on the terrace overlooking the spectacular gardens and the valley beyond, and there were dozens of things to choose from.  All cold cuts except for boiled eggs and toast – although I later discovered that you could ask for other things like scrambled eggs, but the wait was a bit long.

We then all piled into four 4WDs and set off for the mountains.  Two of the cars were very ancient LandRover ‘Troupies’ and they sat three across the back seat and squeezed four more of us in the rear section.  It was really pretty absurd.  They may have been suitable for teenagers who wanted the excitement of roughing it, but the seats were very narrow and too short to fit two bums on either side – as well as being too close together to allow us to straighten our legs.  Getting into the back was a big challenge with only a single wobbly broken stirrup to hoist ourselves in – they were extremely uncomfortable to say the least and we all came out of the experience with huge bruises, scratches and scrapes and other minor injuries. (More than a week later, Heather still has several huge, nasty-looking purple bruises that will probably still be evident a month from now.) It was a pretty cruel experience and totally inappropriate for older folks like our group.

To make it all worse, the tracks we drove on were perhaps the worst I have seen and we had a crazy driver who seemed to delight in finding the most intense teeth-chattering, spine-crunching ruts and potholes to crash down into and lurch out of.  It was agony, but at least we only had to suffer it for half the time because a couple of other hardy souls offered to swap with us halfway through the day.

The first place we went to was maybe ten or fifteen kilometres away, up the mountain to a clearing where they parked the cars and we climbed a couple of hundred metres with a guide who gave us some information, mainly relatively recent history, about the bandits, kidnappers and other brigands who lived in the mountains until the 1970s, when government incentives and police enforcement combined to encourage the criminals and murderers to join a more moderate society and the area is now regarded as quite safe.  Our guide also gave us a modicum of information about a few of the plants and trees in the area, but it still puzzles me why we had to take the bone-shattering drive and the strenuous climb when nothing was said that could not have been said just as effectively back in the hotel.  Nothwithstanding……

We returned the way we had come with an assurance that the next thirty or forty kilometres of road would be much smoother than the section where we had just had our bones rattled.  In fact, it was far worse – our tour leader really is a dummy and seems to have no idea.  He often has to ask our driver where we are going, how far it is and how long it will take – he amended his advice about how far it was to our hotel and when we would arrive on at least four separate occasions yesterday.

It was a frightful journey, a mammoth uphill climb, but we eventually arrived at a shepherds’ encampment.  It was in a huge natural cave and was well equipped with gas cookers and all sorts of other things that goatherds might need.  (It was also well-equipped in a very rustic way to capitalise on the whims of tourists and I suspect that tourism might well be their main source of income and keeping a few goats might be a sideline.)

We photographed a young kid and its nanny mother as well as a fairly uncooperative donkey, but in due course, a huge repast appeared and we ate wagonloads of food, including suckling pig, and disposed of many gallons of red wine.  It was an interesting day, far too much to eat and drink, but certainly a fascinating perspective of the mountain shepherds’ lives. In that regard, I think the 4WDs served their purpose well, but there should have been six vehicles instead of four, and the Troupies should have been updated twenty years ago.

I believe some stern injunctions were issued to our driver and he seemed much more in control of his driving and aware of his passengers’ fragilities on the way back to the hotel.  It was still a very rough and painful ride, but we arrived back at the hotel with minimal additional bruising.  We were on our own for dinner that night so we went down to the restaurant at 6.30 for dinner, only to find that it didn't open until 8pm.  In due course, we returned to enjoy another huge meal, this time around a corner of the restaurant from most of our party, so a little escape (and a little less noise) was very welcome.