#i feel like membrane would make his kids wear his membrane shirts

[suckdickforcoin]

Im so unbelievably normal about this show (lie)

[an-au-blog]

Thought: so many merman buggy aus out there and so little merman Shanks. I get it, Buggy lends himself to being a pretty bluehaired merman and the clownfish pun is too good to ignore. But god I love the idea of kid Buggy getting thrown overboard and almost drowning until a mysterious redheaded figure saves him. Buggy waking up on shore and seeing someone sitting crosslegged with their back turned to him, stumbling to get up and drowsily walking over to said figure, who turns around towards him and Buggy’s eyes are still foggy, but those pants are extremely baggy and he tries to wrap his mind around how this guys sitting „Oh thank god you’re awake! Almost thought you wouldn’t make it.“ Buggy’s eyes focus and he takes in the young boys features. Red hair, tan skin, pretty brown eyes, not wearing a shirt. And then Buggy comes even more to himself as the boy continues babbling on „Easy! Sit down for a second. I don’t know if walking is supposed to look like this but you’re pretty wobbly.“ That kid has a really sharp set of teeth… and there seems to be something wrong with his hands, his fingers connected by a paperlike membrane up to his knuckles. And finally Buggy’s eyes fall down further and he notices the reason why he couldn’t make out how the other guy was sitting for a second. „… I can’t believe it.“ most people were lucky if they ever got a glimpse of merfolk once in their life. Now Buggy is talking to one eye to eye.

Just… let Buggy fall in love with creature!shanks for once. Let that clown be swept off his feet by a handsome merman! You could even have OG Shuggy breakup angst in there. Shanks basically becoming a member of Rogers crew right away when he brings Buggy back to ship, being an invaluable asset due to his abilities, which Buggy grows incredibly jealous of, especially since he is still cursed with his Chop Chop Abilities. And then it goes to shit after Roger’s dead because Buggy learns that Shanks wants to become HUMAN, even tough Buggy would slit a throat to be a merman like Shanks and Shanks doesn’t even want to go after the One Piece? It feels like a slap to his face. Shanks meanwhile has been wanting to become human for ages just because he feels him being a merman has kept him from his chosen family for too long. Rogers death just cemented that in his brain even more. He was never able to see the same places all of his friends did, he was the one waiting by the ship when everyone boarded land and went exploring. He was keenly aware how different him and his best friend were not just in personality, where they balanced each other out he felt, but on a fundamental level as well. That’s why he never took the initiative to take Buggy’s hand when they where both laying on the beach and talking about the future. That’s why he never asked to kiss Buggy because he feared the rejection. If he could just be human things would be easier. He could dance on the deck and drink with his best friend and he could help Roger fight and he could- well he just could have all he ever wanted! He would miss diving and the ocean and the way he could just FEEL the weather change with just a slight change in current, but even if he lost all that, it would be worth it.

And then he gets what he wants just to see his father figure get executed and watches Buggy storm away in the rain and he balls his fists at his side in despair because how was any of this fair?

Yyy i adore this! I like how it's a switch-up in the usual au standard ::D

I love the idea of having Buggy kinda swoon at first sight. Mermaids are already fabled to be these magnificent beings, rivaling the beautiful of any land dweller.

Shanks is a sight to behold. And yes, Buggy had never seen a mermaid, but even if he had, he doubts they'd like him. His charisma, his shine, his entire existence made Buggy gawk in awe.

When he became part of the crew Buggy was so happy. He couldn't even believe it! He was happy because not only does he get to see his new friend every day, but he actually gets to have one.

Slowly he realizes it's... well, to say it lightly, not as idealistic. Still, one of his favorite things was when they swam together. Whenever Buggy's feet touched the water, be could never stay truly mad at him. Shanks was an undeniably better swimmer, but he would take him to the prettiest reefs, the coolest fish, and the best views. Maybe even one time, they were under water for so long that Buggy forgot he needed air, so Shanks shared his own. He could breath under water so it was a bit like giving first aid mouth to mouth, but Buggy always liked to thunk of it as their first kiss... No one else thought of it as such. He couldn't even dream of asking but it was a delusion that kept him satiated.

He loved the ocean. And he loved Shanks. And their life was bliss at sea.

But then the unspeakable happened and he ate something he was never supposed to. No... he didn't eat it, he was forced to because of Shanks. That was something he would never forgive him. From then on seeing Shanks swim was only a painful reminder. It felt like salt in a wound.

To make it all worse, he finds out Shanks wanted to give it all away? Everything they had? Their legacy, the sea! And for what? A pair of boney legs???

On the other hand...

Shanks had felt Buggy slowly getting more and more standoffish towards him and he couldn't do anything about it. He could never be with the crew, not in any meaningful way. There were so many things he wanted to do on solid ground. And of course the crew got to do all the exciting adventuring, but all he got to do hear about it. To top it all off, even when his captain was being executed, he couldn't be there for him. He felt like a liability more than anything and he hated it.

So when Buggy came back upset, Shanks decided to tell him what he felt, open up. Let's say it went less then ideal. Buggy left for good, his father figure was dead and he couldn't even be with him in his last moments, he was cursed with this damn tale when the ones his heart went out to where on land.

... He was lost.

A decade or so, Buggy almost drowns. He fell in the water and could feel his consciousness simmer down. He was dying and must have been hallucinating, because he felt a pair of strong arms hug him from behind and then he woke up washed up on the shore.

The amount of salt water must have been inhumane because on top of that, for a second he thought he saw an adult version of the same merman who saved his life so long ago in the same manner. But he also knew it was impossible. The oceans were a vast and dangerous place. The chance of Shanks being there - same place and time as Buggy was close to none. Not to mention how festered the waters were with sea kings. No matter how fast a swimming one is, there's no way of our swimming a sea king.

Still... it was odd that there was a sudden income of driftwood with supplies. Oddly specific and useful supplies.

Buggy felt like even if there wasn't whatever he saw, there was someone... or something there. He decided, why not, and shouted a "I can see you there," (he couldn't) "you can come out now."

He didn't expect anyone to appear. And he definitely didn't expect his old cremate - Shanks. Shanks who had changed so much... he was well built, one armed, scarred and... was he... was he wearing pants?!

"Hey, Buggy... it's been a while..." Shanks smiled.

...

Okay, sorry, I have this hc that Bughy loves swimming, or I gues... used to... and I added the mouth to mouth thing because when you have a crush you read into everything too much and idk... sorry if it sounds like I'm retelling what you wrote, I love your idea <333

[xionshadow]

Blorbo bingo!

L

Zib

Ciel

Matsuda

Luo Binghe

HEHEHEHEHE, THEM!!! THEM THEM THEM!!!

Thank you, and for the sake of my poor followers... I will put a cut cuz I will gush about my boys.

Starting with L!!

L! I love this man, fucky lil cryptid man. L Lawliet or Rue Ryuzaki (I use both interchangeably at times.) is the world's greatest and slimiest detective. He takes up THREE whole ass slots and he sits like a weirdo. He is nothing BUT cryptid energy and gender envy to me. He's such a mary sue, but in the way that everyone who's important to the narrative and against Kira way. Honestly, Light is a mary sue too-. But that's beside the point. He is also almost always the only adult in the room. Which is funny as shit when you realize he's the most childish. Like, he holds the most authority and has the most reasonable line of thinking, while eating like three gingerbread houses with maraschino cherry syrup coating his shirt. I love him, he's a fucking bastard. He's done so many fucking crimes though. Every government is willing to believe he's Kira before they would let him on a case, which is honestly an accurate gauged of his character. He really would make something like the Kira case cuz he's board.

But GOD when you actually pull back the curtain of his actions and his Autism Stare™, you actually realize he's a little fucked up. And not in the fun way. I mean in the "Oh god, get him into therapy RIGHT NOW" way. This boy doesn't even understand the idea of opulence because he lives with the bare minimum so fucking often. It's doubtful if he even knows the comfort of a stable living quarters because he's been moving from hotel to hotel since he BECAME L. There's a high ass likelihood he doesn't even really want to be L anymore but keeps it up because it's the only thing he knows to do.

The author of DN really looked at L and went "I can fit so much autism and golden child syndrome into this man" and then didn't ask for approval. I love Ryuzaki,,, so fucking much. He's a neat character to disect, I promise.

NOW! Zib Membrane!!!

I can write like three essays about him. 90% of what I know about him is head canon, but like dude. You gotta understand, he's not okay. This is a man who caused the heat death of an entire universe in a single night BY ACCIDENT. He needs so much therapy. Not to mention he is basically a walking gender and identity crisis. He doesn't even like the name Zib. It was thrust onto him. Poor boy.

Does being part Irken count as cryptid swag? I say yes. And there's also a possibility he's also part vampire bee too. Zib does so much wrong though. Can't blame him, he's basically like a chihuahua. He's tiny and filled with enough spite to kill god. The only issue is the fact that he would 100% be bodied by earth's natural gravity.

He has enough blood on his hands to be considered fucking insane but like in his defense he's a bastard. His gender is unknowable, and that's sexy me thinks. I would mug him of his gender, it would end with him dead by accident cuz I sneezed on him. I both beloath and belove him. He's the worst.💖

All of this to say, he's my muse. He was sent to me on a pyre of wood and salt, and I love him. I hold him close to me even as he carves crescents into my fingertips with his jagged teeth. I cradle him as I show him off to all who will acknowledge him, even if he's trying to break each digit in my hand with the brute strength he most defiantly doesn't own. I make him wear silly little dresses as he screams curses. I love him a lot. 💖Although the feeling is most defiantly not mutual.

Ah!! Next rat bastard, Ciel Phantomhive!

OI! SOMEONE GET THIS SASSY CHILD—.

Okay enough playing around. Ciel Phantomhive, the most normal character I own in my list. Which is saying something because he has suffered straight up abuse. And not just the verbal kind.

The storyline of Black Butler is just there to show you how fucked up one traumatized 13-year-old kid can get. And like, yeah that shit tracks. Wish trauma wasn't on the docket per each arch, but much like Sebastain, I sorta reveal in it. It's cathartic to me somehow. I can't explain it, but I do like seeing Ciel lose his shit and be pathetic a lot. I also like seeing his demon butler take care of him, because Ciel is only 13.

Ciel has committed literal crimes. Like, murder is defiantly something he's partaken in at least three times since the beginning of the Madame Red Arc alone. And he is basically a nervous dog with enough spite to kill god. Or at the very least, kill his dear butler, Sebastian. Which almost happened thanks to the Undertaker. God I almost feel bad for that demon. Almost.

His gender is something I do crave though. Something about the opulent style mixed with the clearly childish outfits is super cute! Not to mention the dark gothic vibes. Like these fantasy outfits are so cute and I agree with the art team during that one arc that was super serious. I miss Ciel in very flashy, eye-catching, Victorian inspired clothing. His clothing style inspired my very hyper specific gender need of complex cute and girlish outfits but tailored for boys in specific.

That is to say, Ciel is a muse to me outfit wise. And making art of him. Also character study wise. I relate to his struggles a lot, and he's helped me learn how to more reasonably respond to trauma. I... don't know how that works, seeing as he's a repressed traumatic mess with PTSD. But I guess sometimes you need a character that is a wreck to show you how to not be one.

I love him, so much. I hope the kiddo gets to die a fairly peacefully death in the end. Since ya know, he was dead before the narrative even started going. And at the current moment, that's the only way I see the storyline ending. It would suck and yet it would be only natural. Although if we get canon Demon!Ciel I wouldn't be opposed to it in the slighest!

Matsuda!!!

It is him, the "just a guy" of guys. He literally starts out the manga looking in his thirties and by the time he is seen in the one shot with his hair grown back out he looks like he turned 21 yesterday. You straight up overlook him in the manga for so long until one day BAM he's in your face and he's being cute.

He is literally trying his best at all times, and I love him for it. He's currently in my brain 24/7. I am making a whole ass fic about him and Beyond, and I'm getting a birthday present about him once more. I love him. He's literally babygirl.

Of course, a man who is perfectly well adjusted is not a part of my blorbo list. And I can promise you, Matsuda Touta is not well adjusted. He's just a sunshine boy though. He's that one person who is actually deeply traumatized and when opens up about it, people are questioning how he isn't a depressed ball on the floor. Because, like, he really should be? He haunted by both L and Soichiro's death but he just sorta pushes on anyways?

He bounces back and looks happy and acts it a lot. But he really is suffering on the inside. He's like a repressed time bomb that doesn't even know he's repressed. And lord help him by the time the one shots roll around. You almost wonder how many break downs he's had in private post Light's death. And yet he's still a police officer, who seemingly didn't learn a damn thing from the Kira case. Still bright eyed and willing to jump off a building if it meant securing the outcome of for the case.

Gotta love him. His gender is so aggressively just a guy™. He really shouldn't have been in such a dark piece of media. He's written as comic relief, but he really starts out the manga thinking he's in a normal murder mystery manga. Only to meet L and decide that he's now in a dorky comedy. Only to have Light be put on the team and then is CONVINCED it's a romcom. Man can't get any breaks because he only realizes it's a tragedy he's been put into once L is dead.

If anyone in death note deserves a soft epilogue it's Matsuda and the rest of the task force. They went through so much shit, and for what? Light's ego trip into ego death? Not far.

I think a good little follow up for Matsuda would be him being domestic and helping out what remines of the SPK. He needs a rich authority figure anyways. Plus Near could use the company too.

Finally, the puppy in a human's(?) body! Luo Binghe!!

Somehow, he isn't normal. Like at all.

I can't really say much about him because all I know is stuff about him in passing and from the first few chapter(s?) of the book because Riku read it to me. I'm a disaster case and it was the only way to get me to read the story. Legally.

But like the artists who did the official art on the books got me smitten with him. Like look, his hair is so curly and long, and he's just so cute. He's an oversized dog who's in love with his less than good teacher. It's cute, a little messy, but cute.

He's also in the wrong story aggressively. He was literally written to be a stallion novel protag. His real story (the one that's closer to how SVSSS is written as) should be an idiot plot with countless misunderstanding. Like Romeo and Juliet mixed with the tale of Orpheus. No, I'm not kidding. It would be funny though.

Unfortunately, not much to say here, since I actually should learn more about him. But like, I'm sorry. He's unironically so fucking cute. I want him to have the world. He deserves it all.

[aayilahkaylee]

Carbon as a major factor in the origin of life and carbonated water.

Summary: They both think too much and are highly interpretive of their surroundings - objectively, of course. So it is inevitable that they will do the same with their soul mate brands, but things will look really simple on a trip to the zoo, where many carbon-based life forms are gathered, an element that is also part of their trademark formula.

Notes: This is part of the first challenge done on Twitter by @DcstChallenges, with the theme of soulmates. Don't hesitate to join on twitter and participate or support future challenges.

The system of soulmate identification was nothing more than an inefficient diversity of methods with a huge margin of error or at least ambiguity.

Statistics and probability confirmed this, Senku made use of these calculations in trying to understand this phenomenon, ruling out unprovable facts such as the resonance of dreams or thoughts, or slightly questionable ones such as writing on one's own skin and this also appearing on the other person's (how many could be writing on their own skin and inventing that it was their soulmate who had written to them?). Also the countdowns to over a thousand years were also proof of the untruthfulness that came with it.

Rooted to the facts, the mark on Ishigami Senku's right forearm was supposed to be the mark of his soul mate, but to him it was nothing more than the affirmation that he loved science.

At a certain point, he came to think that simply marks like his did not mean that someone was his soulmate, but that they simply had similar enough tastes or interests that they could hit it off. Which would explain why most people who found his markings ended up being a couple.

On his arm was tattooed the formula NaHCO₃, one of the most important compounds in history, to which he gave the meaning of being what proved that his destiny was science.

On the contrary, Asagiri Gen wondered if among his peers there would be someone whose first word they would cross with him would be that compound; would they pronounce it as the formula read, or would they simply say 'sodium bicarbonate'?

Eventually, his peculiar mark of soul mate became just another joke in his extensive repertoire, with the formula actually demonstrating his deep love of soda, with every bottle of cola that fell into his hands being his destiny.

They didn't think about it often, in fact they even forgot they had such a mark as they were so focused on their respective scientific and psychological/magical matters. So that Saturday, the marks on their arms were not foremost in their brains, instead they found themselves early in the morning preparing to leave for the zoo.

Byakuya found it opportune to distract his busy eleven year old son from incessant curiosity from time to time, offering visits that were stimulating and fun enough that Senku couldn't refuse, though there was no way he would have declined because he appreciated the old man's affectionate intentions... sometimes, when he didn't force him to wear a cap because of the sun.

At the same time, with the pressure of socialisation and the opportunity to experiment with his own charisma, Gen spouted witty remarks and questions to uncover those classmates who invited him on this outing. Exploiting his charisma and his wit to make their company more pleasant, until he was able to get a break after the lion section, offering his companions to set aside a table until they returned with snacks.

Had Senku perhaps taken two seconds longer to heed his periphery, he would have continued the tour with his father to leave and subsequently go for a bite to eat together, but inevitably he noticed the wrist of a young man of about fourteen or fifteen.

NaHCO₃

And he immediately asked Byakuya to pause, sending him to sit down to wait, which the elder somehow interpreted as a coy statement that Senku was hungry, so like a good tutor he retreated to get food.

Senku adjusted the straps of his backpack and positioned himself in front of the jet-haired boy, who was arranging a pair of pretentious sunglasses. He thought of a few probing questions, certain that the young man in front of him was also a science buff (What else could that mark mean?).

But Gen won the speak, slightly taken aback. "Are you lost?" he asked at the boy's sudden appearance.

So Senku dismissed all the questions he had thought of, remembering where they were and convinced that Gen was there for academic reasons.

"Elephant gestation lasts about twenty-two months and during elephant pregnancy the calf grows to a hundred or a hundred and fifty kilograms." he said.

‘Huh?!’

Senku counted thirty seconds, in which his determination showed in the way his brow tightened with each passing second. Gen remained expressionless despite the discomfort, inwardly contorting his face in stupefaction ‘What the hell is this...?!’

"Hah~," he regained his composure immediately and smiled. "as interesting as elephants being afraid of bees." replied, assuming this was one of those kids who liked fun facts... until realised he was looking for something more technical. "It's because bees can get into the mucous membranes and delicate parts of the elephant like the trunk, mouth or eyes and sting them. Of course, they can't pierce their skin, but you should know that.

This time it took ten seconds, which made the major sweat, until Senku smiled slyly.

"Not bad." the younger acknowledged.

Immediately, feeling a great deal of encouragement to exchange his extensive knowledge with Gen, he surmised that perhaps such chemical reactions, like the one he was feeling, were the explanation for why people who could not see colours got it when they met the person they matched with. Or how eye colour could change when they met, nothing more than physiological reactions related to hormones and perhaps genetic compatibility.

Interest was also piqued in Gen, who was trying to explain why Senku had taken the seat next to him so deliberately. When would he get the chance to meet someone so slightly peculiar again? The intrigue to know how effective his skill would be with this boy was agitating.

"Are you sure you're not lost." Gen echoed, holding his hands out to his sides in an effort to appear receptive. Senku's body language indicated he was being cautious. "Your parents won't be angry that you got separated from them, animals and information plates are so entertaining that they do this all the time."

Senku denied, lifting his face from the horizon to Gen. "You assume I'm coming with my family when the likelihood of me coming for a school trip is seventy-five percent, considering the offer they have for students on weekends." replied quizzically at that miscalculation.

If this kid had information about the elephants' pregnancy, why was Gen surprised that he also knew that accurate figure?

"You're right from a monetary and practical perspective," Gen said, not doubting that Senku was correct. "but, statistically, weekends are used for family and friends." the boy seemed unhappy that Gen didn't give an accurate figure "I think if you came with friends, you would have been lost together, and you don't look angry enough to explain away an argument."

Because of his sullen nature, Senku looked at him incredulously, slightly annoyed by the blatantly accurate analysis. He attributed his discomfort to the lack of numerical data that could have helped him compare and assimilate the diagnosis.

"Go on." Senku demanded.

Gen's hands continued the expressive mimicry, unconsciously showing his mar. "If it was a school trip, your teacher would have already reported you missing, the same applies if you were accompanied by the parents or relatives of your friends; the responsibility for a child who doesn't belong to them would have already mobilised them. I see you're learning a lot, but the absence of an alarmed teacher" Gen glanced around before continuing. "-means that a school trip is not the case."

"Efficient, a ten billion percent efficient." Senku credited.

All it took was a push. "Or could this be a distress call?" Gen moved slightly closer to add privacy. "Are you running away from someone?" he added in a sympathetic, empathetic tone.

Senku closed his eyes, weary of the other's deductions. "Fine, my father couldn't wait for us to go out to get something to eat, I know exactly where he is."

Gen smirked, proud that he had so neatly broken down the boy's suspicious barriers "So you came to me to entertain yourself in the meantime?" he remarked, considering he was apparently the only one who was also alone in waiting and thus became Senku's target. "You don't seem like the kindly type who would come up with an interesting fact just to entertain others without getting something in return." he mentioned intentionally.

If it was not help the younger man required, was looking for something more, an his restless gaze confirmed it.

The small, calloused hand pointed to Gen's forearm. "Your mark, it means sodium bicarbonate." said.

Among the things Gen expected to hear next was not his mark of a soul mate "I'm aware of that." replied. He wasn't aware of was that wearing a short-sleeved shirt in the heat would attract the attention of a stranger that day.

Senku smiled. The older might be different from what expected in terms of methodology and analysis, but that he knew the significance of his tattoo evidently earned him a ten billion points.

Gen for his part recalled the Monster Hunter player who explained the original use of NaHCO₃ for soda, which was the origin of the joke that, looking the boy straight in the eye, he backed away from wanting to change to an allusion to cheating on chemistry exams.

"Do you know what it means?" Senku asked with abrupt energy. Revolutionary inventions and the many uses of NaHCO₃ flashed through his head.

Unexpectedly, that excitement rubbed off on Gen and he replied. "I know what it means. "

Byakuya didn't wonder at first why Senku had decided to leave his arm exposed for the rest of the tour. The heat was reason enough... until he noticed that his son kept staring at the mark when he always downplayed it.

"In the rest area there was a boy who had the same mark as me." Senku revealed, making his father's jaw drop to the floor.

Sure, it had to be something like that, but Byakuya could never have guessed it was that encounter. And it wasn't his fault either, the last time Senku had been dismayed by his mark, it was when he explained to a stranger in Monster Hunter the uses of NaHCO₃, pleading for the component's inclusion in more video games.

As a result, Byakuya dragged Senku back to the zoo in search of his soulmate, admonishing him for being so insensitive and for letting the encounter go unnoticed without remorse. Disgruntled, Senku reaffirmed that all this talk of love and romance was as tedious as it was counterproductive.

Gen was satisfied on the way to the train station, the talk he had with the boy stretching into a mutually stimulating mix of technical commentary on carbon and life on earth, and a smattering of curiosities and humorous observations that he knew would please the youngster. He had been put to a demanding test, in a way that none of his companions could ever have done.

Which was perhaps why he ignored them until one mentioned:

"Asagiri, that boy you were talking to when we arrived, I saw him before we left and on his forearm he had a mark similar to yours." he alluded hesitantly.

The pieces fell into place... and Gen lost his senses once again.

It certainly wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last time sodium bicarbonate would bring them together under a new manifestation.

[snappedsky]

Fanatics 84

A mysterious substitute shows up to teach the class.

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

--

The Substitute

           As the morning announcements are read over the intercom, students wait apathetically for them to end. They tap their fingers on their phones and yawn, already tired of a day that’s barely even began.

           After Miss Sweeties takes attendance, everyone starts to leave for their first class, when the intercom chimes with another announcement.

           “Pepito Diablo, report to the Principal’s office please.”            “Huh?�� Pepito questions.

           “Oh, what’d you do?” Dib asks accusingly.

           “Dunno,” he shrugs, “maybe they found out about the gambling ring I started in the boiler room.”            He splits off from the rest of the class and goes to the Principal’s office. The receptionist isn’t sitting out front, so he lets himself in. It’s dimly lit, as usual, but no one is around.

           “Um, hello?” Pepito calls out as he walks deeper in.

           Suddenly, a weighted net made of silver drops down on him from the ceiling. It burns his exposed skin, making him scream in agony as he collapses to the floor.          

           “Grab him, quickly,” a voice orders from somewhere in the shadows of the room.

           “Who the-?” Pepito croaks as a pair of strong, gloved hands pick him up by the shoulders with ease. He tries to look back to see who’s carrying him, but movement beneath the silver is painful. But he can smell them. They smell like Hell.

           He’s carried across the office and shoved into a locker. After they close the door, he hears the click of a lock.

           “Hey!” he barks.

           “Relax,” a voice replies, “you only have to stay in there until we’ve done what we need to do.”

           Pepito hears footsteps fade away and he knows he’s all alone.

           Meanwhile, Zim, Dib, and Squee sit in their desks with the rest of their class. They’re surprised to see Mr. Stutters is not at his desk, so everyone waits patiently, playing on their phones or talking to their friends.

           Finally, after a few minutes, an unfamiliar man wearing a simple suit and black gloves walks in with the Skool television. “My apologies for my tardiness, children,” he says, “I’m Mr. Brim, your substitute.”

           “Where’s Mr. Stutters?” Zim demands.

           “I’m afraid he’s under the weather,” Mr. Brim replies, “but don’t worry. Today will be an easy day for you because we’ll just be watching a video.”

           After turning off the light, he turns on the TV and the video player. “So just sit back and relax.”

           What comes on screen is some kind of odd swirling mosaic that’s constantly flowing like a whirlpool. The noise is a gentle static.

           “What kind of video is this?” one of the students asks.

           “It’s a relaxation video,” Mr. Brim replies.

           “It’s…kinda nice,” another comments.

           “Exactly,” he nods as he sits behind the teacher’s desk and opens a book. “So just relax and enjoy.”

           The kids stare at the screen in a sort of trance, getting lost in the gentle swirl as the static fills their ears. Squee is no exception. He can almost feel all of his stress washing out of his body.

           Almost.

           It’s like the static starts to flow into his mind and then hits a sudden barrier. He blinks with realization and sits up, looking around. All of the kids are staring at the TV, their eyes glazed over; some are even drooling.

           Squee looks at the teacher. He’s completely focused on his book. Watching him carefully, Squee slides down his chair and onto the floor.

           Dib’s chin rests in his hand as he stares at the TV, his cognitive function near unresponsive. He doesn’t even react when Squee grabs him by his hair and tugs him to the floor.

           Squee waves his hand in front of Dib’s eyes, but he remains motionless; just an empty doll. He quickly digs around in his bag before pulling out a pair of headphones which he plants over Dib’s ears. He connects them to his phone and cranks the volume.

           Music from Hellz Rebels blasts into Dib’s ears, knocking him out of his trance. He jumps and gasps but Squee quickly covers his mouth before he can make any noise.

           He motions for Dib to be quiet and shows him a message he typed on his phone.

           ‘Keep the headphones on. The teacher is brainwashing everyone with that video.’

           Dib looks at him with surprise and peeks over the desk. Mr. Brim is still busy reading his book and hasn’t noticed Squee and Dib have disappeared from their seats.

           Dib looks back at Squee as he types another message. ‘What should we do?’

           He considers the question before taking the phone and typing his own message. ‘We have to destroy that video but be careful of the teacher. He could be dangerous. Let’s get out of here first so I can think clearly.’

           ‘What about Zim?’ Squee asks. ‘I only have the one set of headphones.’

           ‘Leave him,’ Dib replies, ‘we can handle this ourselves.’

           So the two of them crawl along the floor towards the windows. They peek over the desks at Mr. Brim, who is still lost in his book, before carefully opening one and climbing through.

           Once outside, Dib lowers the headphones, sighing with relief. “Good thinking using Pepito’s music, Squee,” he comments, “who would’ve thought it’d be so effective at disrupting brainwashing.”

           “Well, I figured something loud would be best,” Squee replies, “so what’s the plan?”            Dib thinks about it for a second. “If I can hack into the intercom system, maybe we can call Mr. Brim out of the classroom. Then we just gotta sneak into the class and destroy the video.”

           “Okay,” Squee nods, “how do you do that?”

           “I’m gonna need one of the speakers.”

           They quickly hurry over to the closest window that leads into the hallway and let themselves in. They look up at the speaker hanging just overhead.

           “Okay, give me a boost,” Dib orders.

           “Give you a boost?” Squee scoffs, “you’re like a whole foot taller than me. Plus there’s no way I’d be able to hold you.”

           “Fine, I’ll use this garbage bin,” Dib says as he climbs onto the lid of the trash bin. “Just hold it steady.”

           Squee holds the bin steady as it wobbles under Dib’s weight. He reaches for the intercom speaker and begins to remove it from the wall when the door behind them suddenly slams open.

           “Well, got a couple of troublemakers, do we?” Mr. Brim says.

           Squee’s arms quickly shoot to his sides. Dib loses his balance on the wobbling bin lid and cries out as he falls to the floor.

           “Sorry,” Squee squeaks as Dib sits up, rubbing his back.

           “Do you know what we do to troublemakers?” Mr. Brim asks.

           “You’re the troublemaker!” Dib declares, jumping to his feet and pointing accusingly at Mr. Brim. “We know you’re brainwashing the other students. What’s your game?”

           “I’ll tell you what we do to troublemakers,” he continues, ignoring Dib.

           “Don’t ignore me while I’m trying to question you,” he snaps.

           “We lynch them.”

           “Lynch?” Squee questions.

           “We?” Dib questions.

         Mr. Brim grins darkly as he steps out of the doorway. “Children, capture the troublemakers.”

           The other students shamble out of the classroom, their eyes glazed over and their mouths hanging open. Dib and Squee watch them with uncertainty.

           Then, as a unit, the whole group charges them. They scream and try to get away but there’s just too many hands grabbing at them.

           They struggle to wrestle themselves free and shove the other kids off of them. Dib slips out of his coat and Squee loses his bag when they finally manage to free themselves. Then they race down the hallway as the other kids give chase.

           “In here!” Dib exclaims and they dive into an empty classroom, locking the door behind them.

           Squee looks down at himself, suddenly realizing his bag is gone. “They got my stuff!” he barks and races for the door.

           “Whoa, Squee!” Dib shouts, holding him back. “You can’t fight them! There’s too many and they’re not in their right minds.”

           Squee steps back, running his hand over his hair and taking a deep breath. “Alright. Now what?”

           Before Dib can answer, they hear the sound of static. They turn around to see a television has suddenly turned on and is playing that same video.

           “No! Dib, don’t look!” Squee yells and jumps out in front of him, but it’s too late. He’s already gotten lost in the swirl and the static.

           “Dib! Dib!” Squee cries, shaking Dib by his shirt but there’s no response.

           The announcement chime plays over the intercom speaker and Squee looks up at it. “This is a message for Dib Membrane.”

           “Kill Squee C.”        

           “What?” Squee exclaims.

           In their respective classes, Gaz and Tak both hear the message. “What?”

           Still locked up in the Principal’s office, Pepito hears someone deliver the message. “What?”

           “Okay,” he snarls, “enough of this.”

           Black energy sparks around him before exploding, completely destroying the locker and the net. Pepito collapses to his knees amidst the rubble, panting with exhaustion before looking up.

           Sitting at the Principal’s computer is a man who appears mostly human. But he has a pair of short, white horns and long claws on his fingers. He stares at Pepito with a mix of surprise, fear, and respect.

           “I don’t know why a pair of demons from Hell is here,” Pepito says as he stands up. “And frankly, I don’t care. I’m done being your prisoner. And whatever you’ve done to Dib- I’m gonna go fix it. But first…”

           He trails off as energy sparks around his hands. The demon man whimpers fearfully.

           Back in the classroom, Dib lashes out and grabs Squee’s throat. He gags and grips Dib’s arm as he presses down on his Adam’s apple, looking past Squee with empty eyes.

           Squee reaches into his pants’ pocket and pulls out a switchblade. He flips open the knife and whips it. It flies past Dib’s head and crashes into the TV screen.

           The static stops and Dib’s arm flops to his side. Squee falls to his knees, coughing for breath as he rubs his neck.

           “D-Dib?” he croaks, looking up. Dib is still unresponsive and motionless. He just stares straight ahead with glazed over eyes.

           Squee cries out with surprise as something starts banging against the classroom door. Through the window he can see his classmates trying to break in.

           “Dib!” he exclaims, grabbing Dib’s shirt and shaking him. “Dib, you gotta snap out of it! Wake up!”

           Dib still doesn’t respond, his head wobbling like a bobble head. Squee winces as the other students continue banging on the door.

           “Dib, please,” he begs, “I don’t know what to do. I-I can’t do this by myself.”

           Squee hangs his head as tears slip down his face. His quiet sobs flow into Dib’s ears and he blinks a couple times before looking down at him.

           “Squee?” he questions, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

           Squee looks up at him with surprise before breaking into a big smile. “You’re back!” he cheers and leaps up to hug his neck.

           “Ah, yeah,” Dib replies with surprise. “Wh-what happened? Did I do something?”

           “Nah,” Squee smiles as he steps back. “Nothing much.”

           Dib looks at him questionably. Then they both jump as the door cracks from the force of the banging.

           “We need to get out of here,” Squee says.

           “Right. Come on,” Dib nods and they hurry over to the window. They quickly slip outside before the other students break in.      

           “What now?” Squee asks.

           “First, let’s destroy that video,” Dib replies.

           Squee nods and they race back to their classroom. It’s empty now with the video still playing in the darkness.

           “I’ll get it,” Squee says, “you stay here.”

           Squee climbs through the open window. Once inside, he jumps with surprise when he sees Zim still sitting in his desk.

           “Zim?” Squee questions. He doesn’t reply; just stares motionless at the TV.

           Squee rubs his head curiously as he turns off the TV and removes the tape from the video player. He drops it on the floor and tries to stomp on it, but it doesn’t even crack.

           “I can’t break it,” he says as Dib climbs into the room. He stares questionably at Zim- who still hasn’t moved- before approaching Squee and grabbing the tape. He tries whacking it against the edge of a desk but to no avail.

           “This is one resilient tape,” Dib comments.

           “That’s cause it’s not of the living world.”

           Dib and Squee turn with surprise to see Pepito standing in the doorway. He’s panting heavily and much of his arms, neck, and face are covered in burn marks.

           “Pepito!” they exclaim.                

           “What happened? Where have you been?” Squee asks.

           “Locked up in the Principal’s office,” Pepito replies as he walks in. “It was hijacked by a couple of Hell demons.”

           “Demons?” Dib questions.

           “Give it,” Pepito demands, motioning for the tape. Dib hands it over and Pepito holds it between his hands. His energy swirls around it, quickly smashing it to pieces.

           “Okay, that takes care of that,” Dib says and looks at the still unresponsive Zim. “What about everyone who’s been brainwashed?”

           “How were you two not effected?” Pepito asks.

           “Brainwashing never has any effect on me,” Squee shrugs.

           “And I was,” Dib replies, “but Squee snapped me out of it using headphones and music.”

           “So loud noises work then?” Pepito questions, “what kind of loud noise can we use on everyone?”

           They all look up as the Skool bell sounds.

          “Huh-wh-what?” Zim exclaims, jumping out of his desk and looking around in bewilderment.

           “Looks like that did it,” Dib remarks.

           They look out the door and down the hall at their fellow classmates. They’re all looking around in surprise, questioning why they’re suddenly out in the hall and standing by a broken door.

           “Where’s Mr. Brim?” Squee questions.

           “I can guess,” Pepito growls.

           “Guys?” Zim asks as he walks up to them. “What’s going on?”

           “No time to explain,” Pepito replies as he grabs his arm and tugs him into the hall. “Let’s go.”

           They quickly run through the Skool to the Principal’s office. Pepito kicks open the door to find it empty.

           “Dammit, he was right here,” he snaps.

           “Who?” Dib asks.

           “One of the assholes who captured me,” Pepito replies, “after I beat him up a little, I left him here to interrogate later. His partner must’ve come and got him.”

           “Mr. Brim,” Dib and Squee say with realization.

           “Hey, my stuff!” Squee gasps as he sees his bag and Dib’s coat sitting on the table. All of Squee’s stuff has been dumped out. “Ugh, it looks like they were rifling through it. They better not have taken anything.”

           “Did they?” Pepito asks.

           “No, all my knives, bombs, and notebooks are still here,” Squee replies, “what were they looking for?”

           “Do you think that’s why they were here?” Dib questions, “were they looking for something?”

           “Are they working for your dad?” Squee asks Pepito.

           “I doubt it,” he replies, scratching his head. “Dad hasn’t been on my case about being the Antichrist for a long time. I don’t see why he’d suddenly send demons on us.”

           “Should we be worried?” Dib asks.

           “Well….” Pepito groans with uncertainty. “There’s nothing we can really do about it right now. I guess we’ll just have to watch out for anything suspicious.”

           “That’s literally my whole life,” Squee remarks.

           “Uh, excuse me,” Zim says impatiently, “could somebody please tell me what the Irk is going on!”

           “How about we talk about it while we hide out in the boiler room?” Pepito suggests as they leave the office.

           “Yeah, I would very much like to skip the next class,” Squee adds.

           “That sounds like a great idea,” Dib agrees.

           Meanwhile, down in Hell, Mr. Brim and his accomplice kneel before their leader: a figure cloaked in shadows.

           “Pepito really did a number on you,” they remark, eyeing the many injuries covering the demon man.

           “He is…quite powerful, my lord,” he comments.

           “Not as powerful as he should be,” they grunt, “which is why I’m better. So, you never found it?”

           “No, my lord,” Mr. Brim replies, “it was not in their lockers, their bags, or on their persons.”

           “I see,” the leader nods, “you’ve done well. Go rest up.”            They nod gratefully and begin to leave when an angered shout from the other side of the room interrupts them.            “Done well?” Carcas barks, cracking the floor beneath his fist. “This was a complete waste of time!”

           “Not true,” the leader argues, “we are narrowing down our search. If neither Squee nor Dib has it, then it must be in their homes.”

           “What is so special about this artifact anyway?” Carcas snorts.

           “It will bring us one step closer to creating the perfect army for destroying the Battalion,” they reply, “patience, Carcas. We just need to keep arranging our pieces, then everything will fall into place.”

[saintheartwing]

Jeremy Spoke In Class Today

Author's Note: I've had this story idea in mind for years. Today, I finally wrote it out. So...trigger warning. The follow content isn't for the faint of heart. The story you're reading is going to contain violent imagery. Harsh depictions of violence and death. I write this story not to make you disgusted, but in inspiration from a very famous song about this very subject matter, and as a warning to all who may be on the verge of becoming their own Jeremies.

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

"I want you to tell me what happened."

The air is sultry, choking the life out of those that sit in the room. It's quiet. Still. Uncomfortable. Every single person that's been in this room has to tell him what they saw. It's just them and the cop. The cop is trying to go easy on them, he speaks quietly, softly, carefully. There's a social worker just to his right, in case any of the children start to cry.

None of them have yet. That's good.

Right?

The first interviewed had blood splattered all over his right eye. It doused his glasses, his black jacket, a splotch falling on the dark blue undershirt he wore, with the "meh" looking cartoony face atop it. His black hair is slicked up in a scythe, his skin paler than usual. He's quiet and somber as he speaks.

"I would…see him drawing in class. Stuff he'd taken from home."

Dibbun Membrane kneads his hands together in his lap. His breathing is shallow, but he speaks all the same.

"Drawing pictures of mountaintops, with him on top. Lemon yellow sun, arms raised in a "v"." Dib confesses as he bits his lip, and looks down at the desk. If he closes his eyes, he can still see them, and see himself. He sees himself peering to the left, looking at Jeremy. Jeremy, who's got so little hair that the kids tease him for going bald so early. Jeremy, who has the kind of fat, sort of ugly nose. Who's got small ears, and a kind of skinny frame. Dib can see him, drawing at his desk, drawing himself as king of the mountain.

And the dead lie in pools of maroon below.

"I know he talked about…how his dad didn't pay attention to him. We had that in common." Dib goes on. "I'd bring it up to him too. My dad can't even remember exactly when my birthday is. The last time we ate out together as a family was when it was my birthday last year. My sister's having her's coming up soon, then it'll be mine. Every other meal, there this…robot. It asks us in our Dad's voice if we love him, and we gotta select "yes" on the screen before it lets us have our food." Dib confesses. "So I told him "How sad is that? I've had a dad replaced with a TV screen that keeps asking for love and can't show it"."

"What did he say?" The cop wants to know, though, deep down, he really isn't sure he wants to.

Dib sighs. "He said "Yeah. Sucks. But I'd rather have that than a Dad who IS there…and even though he's looking at you, he isn't seeing you". That's what he told me. His Dad never actually talked to him. Doesn't ask ONE question about how his day or week's gone. And his mom's no better. She doesn't care. She's only there every once in a while, she's always working, like…some kind of lawyer, I think. She's some kind of lawyer. And then there's the birthday gifts."

"What did he get?"

"A card and a little check." Dib sighs. "I know a lot of kids who'd love that, but there's never any parties. And they don't even put anything in the card. Not even their name. He showed me that too when he showed me the check. I think he used the checks to save up for that…for what he brought in to class." Dib murmurs as he rubs the back of his neck, feeling the air choking his throat again. "So his dad isn't paying attention, and his mother doesn't care. So what does he have left? Isn't it sad when I'M his only real friend and we're only really…like, we just talk sometimes at Recess or lunch. That's…wow. I mean…just…" He trails off.

There's silence for what seems like ages. Then he speaks up again, and says the same thing the other boy said, the one with the bad black hair, the green skin, who didn't have a nose or ears.

"Then one day he attacked Ms. Bitters."

"He attacked a teacher?"

"We all remember picking on the boy. Zim especially. He was a…what's your term? Lightweight? Pathetic. As Torque Smacky put it, a "harmless little fuck"." Zim goes on. He's wearing his normal dark maroon shirt, three small stripes across it, dark pants, boots, gloves. He looks oddly…cold. He's usually smug in class. Or frowning. His face is different. It's almost expressionless. It is as if he's trying to comprehend something but can't.

"How did he attack Ms. Bitters?"

"We had no idea we'd unleashed a lion." Zim goes on. "He was yelling at Torque. Torque had insulted him again. Jeremy actually does something Zim approves of, and kicks him squarely in the face. It's glorious, his nose is broken on the spot." Zim nods firmly. "Torque begins tearing the kid's hair out as they tumble about on the ground, and Jeremy, in turn, begins biting Torque wherever he can. Ms. Bitters slithers her way onto the playground and everyone turns silent. We had all been cheering and jeering, laughing, pumping our fists into the air, the cry of "Fight, Fight, Fight" stops at once. Zim sees her forcibly lift Torque and Jeremy off the ground. She shakes them, first Jeremy, then Torque. She's turning to Torque to admonish him after she's got Jeremy in one hand, but it isn't a good grip, and he breaks free, and then it happened."

"He bit her?"

"He bites her on the chest." Zim rests his hands on the desk he's sitting at, faint dust motes wafting through the air about him as he speaks. "I've never seen her look so���astounded. Jeremy is screaming. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you", and he punches her in the face, and her glasses shatter. The skies are all cloudy and it looks like it might rain, and she just stares at him. Zim can SEE the slowly building rage. She's going to kill him on the spot. It was amazing. I'd never seen such raw fury in two human faces before."

He almost sounds…intoxicated. Impressed.

"I was just…astounded by it. He gets hauled off, by his arms, into the school. He's got detention for a week. We find out he even got a paddling from Ms. Bitters, and as he walks by me in the hallway a day later, I look down and see his pants have been ripped. Ms. Bitters had been paddling him so hard that morning that she tore his pants and he can't go home to get new ones. So I laugh. I sing that human song, "I see Paris, I see France, Zim can see your underpants". Something like that."

The green-skinned child rubs his cheek. Not two hours ago, blood was dripping down it, splattered over his left eye to drizzle down his cheek and onto his shirt and his arm. Jeremy's blood.

"He hits me with a surprise left hook. He almost breaks my jaw. MY jaw." Zim speaks. "I had no idea humans could hit so hard."

"…it is a mortal sin."

Sara can barely bring herself to speak. She's from a very Catholic family and she commonly dresses as a nun. She's been clutching her rosaries and fumbling with her words and she won't look the cop in the face.

"He's done a mortal sin. You cannot ever, ever, EVER do such a thing. I don't understand why you'd damn yourself to Hell like that, he-his…his head. His head!" She murmurs. She grips the rosaries so tightly, her knuckles whiten. The cop almost thinks they're going to pop right out of the skin. "There was…yellow stuff. Not just…not just the blood, and all that pink but…yellow stuff. Wh-where does the yellow stuff even come from?"

"I understand this must be very difficult for you to talk about." The cop tries to say, Sara feeling the tears springing to her eyes.

"So much of it." She murmurs. "So much of that…yellow stuff. And…and the yellow stuff, it…it got all over the blackboard. They will never erase that. We will never, ever forget this." She whispers out.

"Did Jeremy ever talk to you or anyone else in class about his problems at home? Did he ever talk to anyone about being…mad? Or very angry? Or sad? Did he ever bring up weaponry?" The cop wants to know. Nick has that…odd expression on his face. He, like Jeremy, is missing a good chunk of his head. His skull needed surgery, his brain, like Jeremy's, exposed. But he has a polymer plate from the surgery, his brain is still intact. It isn't in pieces, splattered in splotches like a Pollock painting. Nobody's sure how Nick got the injury to his head, evidently there was some kind of drill that got stuck in his skull, and he had to be rushed to the hospital with a probe removed from his cranium. It's a miracle he can talk. But his smile is unholy. He's…

Laughing.

"Jeremy hardly ever spoke. But Jeremy spoke in class today! Jeremy spoke in class today!" Nick laughs. His smile is horrifying, his laughter sends chills down the cop's spine. "Spoke in…spoke in. Yeah…spoke in class today."

He knows he won't really get much else out of him. The cop dismisses him. He's the last child to be interviewed. Ms. Bitters remains oddly silent. She's waiting outside to be called in, but hasn't said a word. When it finally is her time to speak, when he asks her what happened, her voice is creaky and croaky and she seems miles away.

"I've never, ever had this happen." She takes off her glasses, rubbing them on a hankerchief in her pocket. "Ever. This sort of thing never happened in my day."

"When did you realize he intended to do what he did?"

"He said he had something from his parents that he had to give to me. He'd left it in his locker, he said. He walks out of my room. Five minutes later, he's come back. I don't see what's in his pocket. I should have realized something was wrong. Nick starts….laughing. Just this creepy, foul, laughter, and then, THEN as he raises his arm up, pulling his hand out of his pocket, he says "I've got what I came for." He puts the gun in his mouth, and then his upper head vanishes, and everything's all red and pink and…some…yellow stuff."

She can't say any more. The room is dead silent, and still. It's gone cold, too, as the pitter patter of rain turns into a low roar against the windows. The cop doesn't say anything as Ms. Bitters once again cleans her glasses and then looks out the window.

"It just got…everywhere. I didn't think that somebody could small could have so much blood in him. He's still standing upright for a good…twenty seconds. And we can see parts of his skull have flown up into the ceiling tiles. Then one of them falls out, and when it hits the ground, he collapses, and his blood is pooling out, and it's soaking into Dib and Zim's shoes. And that's when I hear Sara screaming, and Nick is laughing, and he keeps saying "Jeremy spoke in class today". Over and over and over…"

The boy's parents are being informed of what's happened. Neither of them have any explanation for how Jeremy got hold of a gun. They didn't even seem to be aware he even HAD been being paddled at school. Evidently Jeremy was supposed to tell his parents of his punishment. Whether he did or didn't isn't known, but the cop is fairly sure Jeremy did. They just weren't really listening.

The crime scene is a mess. Jeremy's desk even more so, scattered pictures lying inside, with the boy atop a mountain, arms raised in a "v", and the dead lay in pools of maroon below.

How do things get so bad that you resort to this? Why did nobody speak out? Reach out? Could anything any of the children have stopped this with some kind words? Or perhaps it really was all on the fault of the parents?

The cop doesn't know.

The children, however, do. Or at least…Dib does. And he'll remember what happened that day, and take it to the grave. He will never forget the way Jeremy's head vanished in the flash of the gunfire. The splattering of blood on his glasses, the bone fragment that shot up, up into the air, and plunked off his desk and onto the floor below. He can't forget that horrible, insane laughter from Nick. How Zim looked so...stunned. Almost broken.

Dib wonders if Zim's ever actually seen a dead body before in his life. Dib had, when his mother died. This was different.

He's not going to forget. Not ever.

He will always remember the day Jeremy spoke in class.

And he's going to have a little talk with his father. Before it becomes his turn to talk in class.

[musicallynerdy]

hey ryn long time no see that d&d ask meme is insanely cool (frankly I love all of them so I tried to choose but there are still a lot, feel free not to answer all of these), so: 2, 3, 7, 9, 11, 12, 15, 16, 20, 23, 24, 26, 27, 31, 33, 35, 44, 60, 72, 77, 87, 93, 94, 97!

Hi Taylor! Long time no see! I hope you’re hanging in there! @hoot-h00t So, Hannah sent me a few of these last night on my D&D sideblog (@gmsguild) so I’ll skip those ones but I’m gonna do the rest! I’m gonna focus on my primary character, Sahar, my tiefling wizard in my home Tal’Dorei game.  2. Who in the party would your character trust the most with their life? I think our party rogue most likely. A few weeks ago (in game time) the rogue saved her life (literally- failed death save, would have been dead if that shadow hit me again), and Sahar returned the favor in a fight with a succubus, so there’s some trust there. 

3. What are your character’s core moral beliefs? I think she’s redeveloping her morals for the first time in a decade. She’s becoming a better person and it’s interesting really interesting to play. She never hurts kids, she’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect those she loves, and she’s devoted to the pursuit of knowledge. She’s got a dark side and isn’t afraid to hurt or kill to get what she needs, but she’s starting to try not to cause more harm. I think she feels the need to make up for what she’s done in the past. 

7. Describe your character’s current appearance: clothes, armor, scars they’ve picked up along the journey, etc? Sahar Tel’Urdyn is a deep purple-skinned tiefling with these stormy grey eyes with catlike pupils and a light blue nictitating membrane that she can flick over them. Her horns come from her forehead and then curl back forward similar to but not the same as a bighorn sheep (I don’t really know how to describe them?), and she has a thin pointed tail that flicks like a cat’s when she’s excited. Her hair is a darker purple, close to black, and is pulled back in a single french braid. She has a number of piercings, earlobes and cartilage. One of her cartilage piercings has a thin chain that connects to a band around one of her horns. She also has a belly button piercing, a nose stud, and a ring in her tail, all in silver tones. With the exception of the chain, she wears almost entirely studs, bars, or rings. Nothing that could catch on something or make noise. She has a number of scars and tattoos from the Tragic Backstory, but the most interesting is probably a lot of blackwork on her left arm that extends from her hand up to her elbow, almost like she dipped her arm in ink (although there is a triangular design on the hand, almost looking like a bit of that type of glove that only attaches to the middle finger?)-- or more accurately it looks like blackwork but it’s actually a lot of really intricate work, lots of script and sigils.  She wears a white, v-necked, with lacing in the V, like a flowy pirate shirt sorta thing, with black pants and brown leather boots, and a dark blue almost black sash around her waist. She has a dagger at her waist and her spellbook sort of sits in a bit of a holster thing in the small of her back. She hasn’t actually picked up much over the journey... she’s got a really nice dark gray traveling cloak she took off of... some dead body somewhere. She’s also got a wand of magic missiles tucked into a leather thigh sheath. She’s probably got a scar or two from the one battle I’ll detail below in number 15.  9. What deity, if any, does your character worship? What’s their opinion on other people’s worship? She grew up worshiping the Moonweaver but sort of lost a lot of her faith during the Tragic Backstory period. As a wizard she also prays occasionally to Ioun. She doesn’t really have opinions on other people’s worship so long as it doesn’t start causing her problems.  

11. Describe your character’s current relationship with the player character sitting to your right. So my group is a crew of old friends from my hometown, so we haven’t played in person in a while. 

12. What is your character’s current goal, summed up in one sentence? To crack this puzzle cube and learn more about conjuration and transmutation magic in the process. 

15. What battle in the campaign has been most memorable to your character? Oof so we broke this girl out of prison, she’s the daughter of a crime lord, but in the process we sort of... alerted the entire town to what we were doing and our barbarian punched the guard captain in the face? So we were burnt and tried to get out of town and hide, but they sent guards after us and we had no spells left and our barbarian had one rage and our rogue, our warlock, and our druid all went in with like low health and Sahar ended up having to be a tank for the battle and was just casting shocking grasp and somehow we still won? We killed six guards coming after us and somehow got away. That was the moment it was like ok we’re a team and we have each other’s backs even when shit royally hits the fan. 

16. If your character wasn’t whatever class they are, what would they be instead? Probably a bard or a warlock. Magic is just like, ingrained in her and she’s a curious motherfucker so like, if her troupe had lived she probably would have become a bard, or she would have stumbled into something deep and dark and made a pact with something for knowledge. If she had focused in her Tragic Backstory more on the sneaking bit of being an assassin rather than the “i will kill people creatively with magic” bit, possibly a rogue too. 

23. If your character could go back in time and change one thing about their life, what would it be? To not get kidnapped by the crew of the Talon’s Breath because that just started a decade of bad things. On the other hand, without that she probably would never have gotten to Tal’Dorei from Marquet and would never have found the party, which she’s starting to count as the best experience in her life. But it doesn’t erase the previous decade. 

24. Which other player character does your character find themselves having the most in common with? Definitely our party rogue. Tragic Backstory Buddies

26. What would your character say their best trait would be? “My Wit, of course” (her virtue name she used for years was Wit, so that’s a pun)

27. What is your character’s greatest fear? Deep, irrational? Ooh tough one. She’s afraid of losing her powers, I think. Her magic has been what has kept her alive and allowed her to become who she is and I think she’s wrapped up so much of her identity into the magic she wouldn’t know who she is without it. She uses minor illusion like people in the real world use a fidget spinner. I think she’d have a hard time functioning without her magic. It was a source of trauma and now it’s the way she’s helped herself through that trauma. She’s definitely going to need to deal with that at some point but therapists are hard to come by in Tal’Dorei. 

31. What stereotypical group role does your character play in the party? (The Mom, the Mess, the Comic Relief, etc. Optionally: What role would your character play in the “Five Man Band” structure?) Ya know I’m not sure. She’s sort of the brains (her intelligence is like a full 4 points above anyone else’s in the party) but really our party is six dumbasses held together by spit and a prayer and the fact that they keep stumbling on sketchy shit in every small town they come to (literally, they’ve had one town that hasn’t had sketchy shit going on in it) (well, and one city. So two stops on their entire journey). 

33. What person does your character admire most? In our party? Tough choice. Probably Thea, our warlock. She’s a 16 year old human girl and Sahar just thinks the world of this kid. She also has this huge Big Sister drive to keep this girl safe and also teach her about magic. 

35. Why is your character’s lowest stat their lowest (the in-character reason, not “because there’s no reason for a wizard to have 16 strength, duh”)? 10 in strength (I rolled well) but in character, she never really had a chance to develop it. She was the prisoner of a cartel for years and just didn’t have the space or the means to build up her strength. 

44. Does your character think more with their heart or their brain? Brain. 18 intelligence. She’s a wizard. Everything is logic. 

60. What decision would the party have to make in order for your character to consider splitting off from the group? Answered over at @gmsguild with number 20!

72. Who in the party would your character trust the most to keep an important secret? Oof yikes... honestly? Probably Mire, our barbarian. 

77. If your character had to multiclass into a class they currently aren’t the next time they level up, what would it be and what reason would they have for doing so? hmmm..... Something with spells. She’s such a magic nerd she would do something stupid for knowledge. 

87. What major arcana tarot card best represents your character? I’m only skipping this one because I’m not really familiar with tarot

93. Who in the party does your character trust the least? All of them. We all have flaws that make us untrustworthy in particular circumstances. But also she knows all of them have her back if she needs it. She just needs to know their weaknesses so she can help protect them. 

94. What is your character’s biggest flaw? She always has to be in control. It comes from years of not being in control and now she’s a bit of a control freak. 

97. What is most important to your character: health, wealth, or happiness? Happiness. I don’t think she knows what that means yet, but she left employment with a crime lord that could have made her very rich because she knew it wasn’t making her happy.  Thanks, Taylor, that was fun! Took me like 2 hours, but whatev. Hope you’re hanging in there!�� Also I’m reading back through this and realizing like, folks trying to piece together her Tragic Backstory from this and my post on @gmsguild are going to have a rough time Much love to my party yall are amazing and I love you (@geekoz87, @skirtsandbattleaxes, @miniaturetanks, @vaguelyconcerning, @tenebris-felidae)

[tearinglight]

Secret Only Us Two Know

A/N: Preeeettttyy suuure @devnny made up Nny’s name here. Hope they don’t mind me using the last name, Nny needs one. (If I’m wrong pls correct me). Also @megxolotl, my little second mate in writing, couldn’t do this without you.

Johnathan Cereza’s car was a piece of crap. Just looking at the worn out minivan would either make your heart or sides ache with how shitty it looked. It’s paint was peeling, the one back window was broken, two tires were obviously patched instead of replaced. The only thing that made it sadder is when people would catch a glimpse of his son sitting in the luggage compartment with his feet dangling out, the door flung up so he had his own little sunroof and everything. He was so tiny, the black on white shirt he was wearing doing little to hide how thin he was. Dark circles lined his eyes, both heavily lidded in this heat as he waited outside the video store.

“C’mon, Nny…” The boy whispered, waiting for the ground to become lava. It was going to happen, he could feel it. It was going to melt the tires first, the tires would be the first to go, turning into black pools of rubber as the car sunk lower, lower. 

He would have to crawl upwards, then, try to get on the roof as the hot sizzle of metal hitting lava would happen. He would scream for help, that’s what he’d do, though Johnny probably wouldn’t hear with how BUSY he probably was in there…

SLUCK!

Squee jumped at the sound of a water bottle smacking the side of the van, staring with wide eyes at the teenagers that zoomed down the road, laughing as if they had pulled the most wonderful prank. The young boy shook, frayed nerves getting the best of him but he still leaned out to grab the water bottle that was now definitely empty. The side of the car was still dripping evidence of that. Cautiously, the young boy leaned his way out of the side, arm stretching as far as possible to try to scoop up the empty plastic bottle.

“SQUEEGEE!”

The boy gave a loud shriek, nearly falling onto the hard blacktop of the parking lot but somehow managed to not only pull himself back into the car but dragging the bottle in with him. He sorta laid there, then, breathing hard. Oh god, he had almost melt to dea-

“Squee?” Nny popped up in front of his vision, making him let out another ‘squee’ of terror, before he was wrapped up in very thin arms pulling him out of the van and into the air. “Guess what, guess what, guess what?!”

“Wha-ha-hat?” Squee jumbled, his voice warping with Nny’s happy little hops, though he could stifle the giggle that escaped his lips at hearing Nny sound happy for once, however dangerous that may be.

“Guess!” 

“Y-yo-ou-”

“I got the job!” Nny squealed, twirling Squee around before collapsing into the back of the van with Squee on his chest positively beaming. “Devi is going to be so happy with me! And I can get you birthday presents.”

“And a blender?” The ‘for you’ was silent, but Squee knew Nny had really, really started to like this new thing called ‘family’. So much so that Squee and Devi had both noticed Nny’s entire focus on dying and emotionlessness and everything had been shifted towards the two of them. Or at least Squee had noticed. He could feel things with people sometimes, it was the reason that, despite all logic saying Nny was bad, he couldn’t help but feel it wasn’t the same bad as everybody else. And now he think he understood why.

Maybe Nny had been a bad guy because, maybe, he’d never had a good reason to be… well… good.

“Uh-huh, yeah, that. We should go, before she notices we’re gone,” Nny was still full of chatter, Squee could feel it. “I don’t need her to murder me before I tell her Good News™!”

Nny led the way to the front of the car, humming ‘Ode to Joy’ as both slid in. Most people would probably question if Nny was safe to be around right now or was even okay to drive but the sudden gentle hands smoothing down his hair was a signal. Yeah, Nny was safe right now. He didn’t even know if Nny knew he did that little tell yet it was comforting to have someone push your hair out of your eyes, especially if it was someone who supposedly hated being touchy feely like Nny. Squee decided to lean his forehead against his caretaker’s, worried that maybe Nny would take it as a sign of war or something but was pleasantly surprised at Nny’s awkward, sad smile. He gave his own broken smile back, both of them giggling.

“Thank you, Squeegee.”

They both jumped at Squee’s phone going off, Katy Perry’s ‘The One That Got Away’ blaring out of the tiny device. They looked at each other, “Uh-oh.”

Squee scrambled into his seat properly, buckling up and fumbling for his phone. He motioned for Nny to drive.

Click! 

“Nny, you fucking dumbass, I swear to god-”

“Devi!” Squee tried to somehow force the smile into his voice, lifting his hand up and turning Nny’s face gently towards the road. “We officially apologize for everything we ever did and that we inconvenience you but we were doing nothing and are not in jai-”

“Stop, stop, stop. Squee, what are doing with Nny’s phone?” Devi sighed, sounding like she was tired now like a deflating balloon. She had been running herself ragged these days. That’s why they needed to help her, Nny with a job and Squee with house chores. After all, Devi owned the apartment and was always cleaning up after the two of them…

They bothered her so much…

“It’s not my phone, it’s Squee’s phone. I don’t trust something that comes from Membrane Labs as far as I can throw it. Damn crap is made by aliens, I swear.”

“And Nny is FOCUSING on the ROAD, right, Nny?” Squee forced the smile even more as he gave Nny a ‘look’. He’d been practicing, trying to look as terrifying as Devi. 

Nny snorted, “Right, First Mate Squeegee! Focus, focus, focus…”

Truthfully, Nny usually did focus when he started up the mantra, they’d learned after Squee had broken his arm because of Pepito, Zim and Dib deciding it would be cool to go search for mermaid in a CAVE in the DARK without PARENTS, resulting in all of them ending up with broken bones. (Except for Zim, who miraculously had walked away without a scratch but for all of his whining and selfishness, he did seem concerned for all three of his ‘companions’. He even had brought flowers that Squee KNEW were dug up from his own garden. What other person had Day-Glo blue flowers?). 

“So you didn’t crash the car?” Devi sounded as if she had been concerned about that happening more than anything else. “No one got hurt or was hurt?” “Nope,” He didn’t have to force the smile that time. “No one hurt at all.”

“...and Nny didn’t crash the car?” “No, Devi. What is your obsession with me crashing the car?” Squee looked out of the corner of his eyes, surprised to find that Nny was totally focused on the road. Wow, he really was trying to be better.

“It’s not an obsession, Nny, it’s a very real concern I have based on past experiences. How are you even hearing this right now, anyway?” “Squeegee put ya on speaker phone~,” Nny sounded so much like a skoolyard kid, Squee had to cover his mouth to keep from giggling, guilty feelings bubbling up. “Just like you love~.”

“Squee!” Devi’s voice sounded mad, but he burst into laughter anyway. It felt good to laugh this much in one day, even if his chest hurt a little. “Will you two tontos at least tell me what you were doing when you get home? I need to get back to working on my painting.”

“Okay~! Bye!” They chorused, hanging up. Five seconds later, they were cracking up again, both excited to tell Devi exactly what they were doing when they got home.

[explosive-nebula]

ETF Rewrite aftermath headcanons part 1

So I wanted to share some stuff about my canon in the Florpus Rewrite AU

• Since finding out about his mission being a big lie, Zim has long since abandoned and burned his invader uniform, now donning a purple sweater/turtleneck with a flying saucer on it, blue denim shorts, black and purple leggings, knee high black combat boots, and switched his black gloves for brown leather fingerless ones.

• Zim also no longer needs his disguise as literally the whole planet knows he’s an alien now and also it feels nicer to have his antennas free and not wear the scratchy eye contacts.

• A lot of aliens are pretty much regular citizens now some alien kids even go to skool now, and as a result a few alien teachers came in so the alien kids don’t end up hurt, since Zim is Irken, he’s like a personal helper to any of the new alien kids.

• Gaz just, comes home one day with an alien girlfriend, and they all just kinda, accept it.

• Zim abandoned and disassembled his base (after 777 got his kids out ofc) and moved in with the Membrane Family who essentially adopt him for a time before making it official with adoption papers and everything, Zim cried when he found out and hugged them all.

• Tak is much less angry then when she first met Zim, she’s mellowed out and while in Moo-Ping 10, realized the Tallests are kinda super awful, and after the Florpus incident, she and him talk stuff out and are pretty good friends now

• Once Zim moved in, Professor Membrane helped him construct his own room which from both outside and inside is visually out of place with the rest of the house (a visual gag from Star Vs. The Forces Of Evil cause I think it’s funny)

• GIR, while without his memories, is still quite the handful, but also now has trouble remembering things and gets scared when he has a amnesiatic episode, so he’s usually by Zim’s side a lot, and wears the doggy suit more like a sort of security blanket

• Minimoose helps a lot too, and just curl up and comfort anyone who’s feeling sad, also incredibly blunt about problems, also basically Chewbacca rules apply; you hang around them long enough and you completely understand what their saying (yes Minimoose is nonbinary)

• The Tallests have of course, been stranded on Earth, as the Massive is too beyond repair to fly and the Armada are shmillions of miles away in the Florpus. As a result, they’re constantly trying to get a ride back to Irk or to destroy the Earth to get back at Zim, Zim and the others pretty much have muscle memory in stopping them, quite ironic that Zim would be helping protect the Earth from the Tallests when he was trying to destroy it for so long.

• After the Resisty came, many other refugees came as well, seeing how Earth was out the flight path and also the Empire is crippled with their leaders now seemingly defenseless.

• Lard Nar and Zim have reached an arrangement and since Zim was the first recent alien on Earth, he’s kinda become an unofficial ambassador of aliens coming to Earth, turns out the Resisty was coming to Earth after hearing the Tallests would be vulnerable.

• Zim gets around to getting legit therapy, as do Dib, Gaz, and many other aliens in need of emotional recovery.

• Zim lost his left arm and real eyes in an explosion from when he was still training at the Invader academy, he got a robot arm and synthetic implants for his eyes, so when he wore a tank top/T-shirt for the first time, freaked a few people out, except for Skoodge Ashe was there when it happened.

• Membrane has discovered a way to cure Irkens of their ‘allergic’ reactions to Earth water and meat, so Zim and the other Irkens can now regularly experience water and eat meat, Zim really likes meatloaf and chicken legs now.

• Zim suffers dissociation episodes, depression, which leads to suicidal thoughts and actions, he’s been getting therapy and a Irken friendly antidepressant medication to help him, his new little family helps him too, GIR struggles with psychosis in this verse, so he helps Zim best he can.

• Zim gets really into ‘old’ music, like stuff from the 90’s and stuff, think a mix between the soundtrack for Guardians Of The Galaxy and the Fallout series, Gaz got him a CD recorder and put all his favorite songs on it, it was a gift for his birthday

• Dib and Gaz get night terrors about the Florpus destroying everything around them, Zim feels guilty about his adoptive siblings emotional distress over the event, which he’s told his therapist and Professor Membrane, even Clembrane before, but he’s afraid of what Dib and Gaz would say.

[oxfordcombat]

The Titus Trepidation

Read this or I’ll paper your towels :-)

 Crunch. I had been walking peacefully, but fortunately for my chagrin levels, I wasn’t alone. I paused, the walking stopped.  Trick of the forest, a play on my already overactive imagination. Continuing on, my mood once again lightened. I was fine. Crunch. I am fine. Crunch. I am fine, everything is A-Okay. Crunch. Every other step was met with the crunch of some nearby leaves. A sound that wasn’t mine. A sound fast approaching.

“Haha, very funny peter, you got me. Let’s all prank the new guy,” I swallowed nervously, peter always owned up to his dumb jokes, he liked the satisfaction of a good prank. Why wasn’t he speaking. I kept walking. Wouldn’t he have come forward by now? The dead person in the forest was always found after turning around, right? That’s what the forest wanted. That’s what the it always wanted. “Rie? That you? I knew it was too good to be true, getting out of station clean up to do the evening patrol. Jokes up guys. I’m thoroughly scared.” The crunching was faster, approaching me, I couldn’t bear to not see whatever it was anymore. I whipped around.

           “Show yourself! This isn’t funny anymore, I’d rather you just get this over with.  I’d literally rather have a deer eat me! Wait—no I wouldn’t. On second thought, um, please, don’t do that,” my voice got smaller with every word I mushed out. I was dead, so dead. Why did I ever leave Arizona?

“Get the internship they said, it will look good on your transcripts they said. If you really want a gap year work somewhere that will get you into a good college, maybe even help your degree. Well look where that got me! This is dumb. I’ve had to be outside, in the forest, alone! And now I’m going to die, in the forest, alone!”

That was my voice, slightly raspy, but still my voice. As if this me hadn’t spoken in a while. Since its last meal probably. No, stop, I was only scaring myself. Those were my thoughts. But the problem was that wasn’t my voice. This was bad, so bad, so very, very bad. I furiously start back pedaling. I didn’t want to turn my back again, lest the thing be staring behind me. At least this way I could watch the long part of the trail. I was almost back. Hopefully whatever it was didn’t know how to open doors.

“Um please, don’t eat me. I really want to not be eaten, that’s actually on my, um, top three things to do,” I attempted a chuckle with my dumb joke. Hell, I was probably more likely to be eaten like this. Wait did it even eat, what if it just dragged my body off the trail never to be seen again? What if I was just held motionless in a cave in the forest, for my entire life? Jesus, I’d never even see my fish again. My radio crackled at my side. MY RADIO! I’d completely forgotten, I could get help, reinforcements, another human, anything.

“SCHSHCSCS base tower two to all rangers, base tower two to all rangers. Missing persons report north quadrant approximately, last seen wearing blue shorts and a navy blue jacket. Blonde hair, green glasses, report in when possible. Repeat all patrolling rangers be on lookout for small boy wearing blue shorts and jacket, responds to name Titus. Contact immediately if found SCHSHCSCS,” the radio crackles again, it’s Riley. She isn’t part of the prank, if this even was one. I try desperately to make the microphone come on, but the buttons wouldn’t respond.

“Please! Please! Someone, anyone help me! I’m in grave danger, something is out here with me. I need help!” Nothing, no light, no response. My radio bore no sign of picking anything up. I wasn’t getting help. I was going to die. Out here. Alone. In the stupid woods. All I wanted was a gap year. I should be getting my bachelors in botany, I should be studying evolutionary sub functionalization, but instead, I was here, alone, in the forest, about to die. I don’t like this. Crunch. I do not like this. Crunch. I want to die. Crunch. Crunch. No, I don’t I was kidding. Crunch. Maybe it could only read my thoughts that one time, and did not just hear my request of death.  The movement of leaves was all around me, impossibly close, impossibly fast. I couldn’t take this. Was the trail really this long before? I turned around.

I no longer saw the north-east tower. My refuge was no longer a few miles away. I had been corralled. Jesus, I was sheep, I was lamb to the slaughter. Oh god. This was the end; this was the end wasn’t it. Jesus Christ. I don’t know how long ago I had stepped off the path, I had no idea. Actually, it was after the voice. Right? I had literally broken the one rule my grandmother had given me. Respect the forest and its inhabitants, living or not, and don’t set foot off the path without the blessing of a forest elder. Okay two rules. I was still in a very not good place. But it was okay, I still had my compass, I still had my skills, the crunches had lessoned, and I would be okay.

“Ti-tus, Ti-tus, Titus. Hey that’s my name,” It spoke again this time not in my voice, but in the speech of a sleepy little boy. This was creepy, it couldn’t be part of my imagination now, this was too vivid. “Have you seen my boy, my poor boy all alone in the forest, my, my he’s simply too young. Please ma’am you must find him, he’s all I got in the world. Please,” It wasn’t a little boy any more, this time the thing drawled in a southern accent. I wasn’t sure what was worse hearing my voice, or hearing someone else’s; were they its last meals? Is that what it ate?

“Pl-ease come here, honey. Are-n’t you tired of running? Aren’t your widdle legs just begging for a little r and r? Come on down here darling, I promise you won’t regret it sugar,” the thing had lost its rasp by now, if I hadn’t heard it’s practice I might have even believed it had a rasp, a flaw. I mean it sounded just so nice; a cozy fire, probably set with accented cotton plants, nestled in a ranch. I could listen to this voice, let it carry me off to sleep. Let myself get comfortable. I wanted to sit down. I wanted to lay down. I was going to sleep now, while the nice feeling stayed. I hadn’t been this comfortable in years.

No-no, I was not going to fall for that. Not after I had come this far. Something was wrong with my compass. It sat lazily spinning, turning circles under its glass dome. I hadn’t been in the forest enough to know it by heart, but I wasn’t dying. I refused, my papa had taught me self-defense and no dumb old forest spirit would eat me without a fight.

I stopped. A torn navy jacket laid on the ground. I couldn’t believe this, the north quadrant was huge, what were the odds, the kid was here. If I made it out alive no one would have to know how scared I was, instead I would come back a hero. Peter would eat his shirt. I picked up the jacket, there were several rips on the back of the jacket.

I might be taking back a corpse.

“Mrs. Madeline, is that you? Are you painting again, dear? I told you to be careful out here, we are to be together throughout our expedition my dear. I wouldn’t want to lose you love. Madeline, Madeline? My dear? Where ever are you my love? Madeline?” I couldn’t believe this, how long had this beast been around. I’d only been here for a week and even I had heard of the Wreinrich Forrest legend. Hell, everyone at the base knew that story.

Madeline Haverick, the famous sculptor, had come for a visit with her husband to relieve her artistic burnout. She had gone missing less than two days into her trip, and her husband? Well he came in half lucid, no shoes, rambling of some, thing. He spoke of eyes, so, so many eyes. Of eyes watching, waiting for him in the dark, in the end, we couldn’t save him. The rangers on duty called the medics but he was pronounced dead when they got there. No one knew how, there was no cause. No evidence, nothing.

Only problem? That legend was over seventy-five years old. How would the thing have known? Was this the end of Madeline Haverick? Was this the end of me? The thing talked quietly. Not pronounced enough for me to hear. More voices, pitches, tones. Never the same speech twice. Was that how it got its victims? I mean I almost fell for the cozy of the voice, once. Could this be my end? Was Titus even out there? Or was he already bait for my sympathy. I gripped the jacket tighter, my lifeline in this godless forest.

That’s when I noticed what was happening, or more precisely, what wasn’t. The crunching I’d grown so accustomed to, the voices, the muttering. It was gone. Silent. I was alone. But I wasn’t. I was still being watched. I felt the eyes boring into the back of my neck. I would catch it this time, it couldn’t run without alerting me. I took a few steps, thinking about anything but my plan. Tomatoes, phytochromes, plant cells, cellular membrane, phototropism, internode, axillary bud. I spun around. There wasn’t a beast in site. Instead, there were stairs?

Stairs. How. Were. There. Stairs? I couldn’t believe this, I had just walked over that space, and now there were stairs. How? I didn’t even know what was happening. Was this a thing, a common occurrence?  I couldn’t help but step forward towards the stairs. They were just so enticing. I went to investigate.

“SCHSHCSCS Reports coming in from East Quadrant supposed sightings of Titus, as reported by local campers. Search and rescue now relocated, dogs positioned. Stay tuned, continue search as planned. SCHSHCSCS”

How? How could he be in another quadrant already? I’m deep in the North, how would his jacket be here? Or his glasses? What was happening? I hadn’t heard the voice, or voices in a while, was that good? Could that mean I was in the clear? Or did it mean that it was going for my colleagues next? I tried my radio buttons, still no response. This was bad, so very, very bad. I couldn’t tell what was worse: possibly being in the clear but my friends facing the consequences, or this being the calm before the storm for me. Was this how it did it? Was I finished, was I being lulled into a subtler calm. Oh god, was that what it wanted me to think, did it want me anxious? No, no I was going in circles again. I wouldn’t die this way. No, I wouldn’t die.

“SCHSHCSCS The dogs have found the boy’s scent; retrieval rangers are hot on the missing child’s trail. Will report back soon. SCHSHCSCS”

They had him? But how? There was no explanation for this. I wasn’t going to wait around, I was climbing the stairs. I was about ten feet away; it had been enticing before but in a train wreck sort of way. I couldn’t describe it, but while I couldn’t look away, I didn’t want to advance.

I was getting to the end of this day, stairs, voices, or not. Each step felt harder, my feet feeling as heavy as rocks every step I took. When I got almost within grasping distance I was no longer walking, I was trudging, not able to lift my feet. I needed answers and if the top of these stairs gave that to me I didn’t care how hard it was to get there. Static filled my ears. I couldn’t hear anything, but I could. All of my senses seemed to inhabit a queer limbo. My hearing and sight functioned perfectly yet not at all. I couldn’t explain it if I tried truthfully, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.

Hesitating my foot hovered above the first step. All of the turbulence, all of the interference bouncing around in my brain was gone. It was just me and the. If I could ever think that again. Something hovered near me, maybe the stairs themselves somehow. I couldn’t tell you. But I had come this far. I set my foot down on the first stair.

The forest was silent. Another step. There were six steps. Nothing big, not even a floor. I could see over the top the entire “journey.”  Step. I wasn’t sure I could do this. Step. No. Step. I could do this. I would do this. Step.

I had done it. I stood at the top.

I saw the forest, six steps taller. And it felt, wrong. I had just done something, something terrible, and I didn’t fully comprehend it yet. But I could tell, I would rue the day I set foot on these stairs. I crouched, picking up the glasses. They felt empty, there were scratches on the lenses. A drop of blood maybe. Perplexed, I tucked the arms behind the frame, there wasn’t any blood before. I could see them clearly and there weren’t any scratches or blood until I picked them up. What did this mean? I rubbed my hands together, suddenly cold. There was blood on my hands. I was getting back to base. This was insane. I needed to tell someone. Tell anyone. Talk to someone that wasn’t myself or a mysterious entity. I wanted to talk to a human being.

I wiped my hands on my pants. The blood didn’t disappear. I couldn’t handle this, I was going home. Back to Arizona. Back to no forests. I was done.  

“SCHSHCSCS we have lost scent of the boy. HQ does not understand what happened may be result of a 76-33, come in immediately, we don’t know what’s hunting this time. Boy is continued missing, presumed dead. Repeat, all rangers return to base. No one on grounds unless returning, issue total lockdown. Remember, do not trust your radio or senses. Repeat: all rangers return imminently. SCHSHCSCS”

I couldn’t believe this. Don’t trust your radio, what lousy advice to give by radio, I thought as I clipped it back into my belt. I was so done with today. I needed to get back to base, to both remain alive in this hellscape and submit my two weeks’ notice.  I didn’t care what was happening, I was going back to base. I hopped off the stairs, gingerly placing the bloody glasses in my pocket. I picked up my speed, you don’t run in horror movies, that’s just asking to trip and be caught, I was going to speed walk my way to safety. Crunch. O H       M Y     G O D. Crunch. This was not happening. This was NOT happening again.  Nothing could happen if I ignored it. Crunch. That one was right behind me. Nope. I kept walking. Nope, nope, nope. Breathing, hot on my neck. I said no, I’m opting out. Can’t eat me if I opt out mysterious forest entity.

Something drawled its finger, if I could call it that, down my spine. Nope, nope, I hate this. I detest this.  The static was building again. Something brushed my ankle. God forbid, I escape the god damn stairs free of harm. Shouldn’t that thing be full of Titus by now? You would think an entire little boy lunch would satiate it. Oh Jesus, I can’t believe I said that. I hope that kid is okay.

“SCHSHCSCS HQ to ranger caprice, head to west quadrant picnic pavilion. Urgent ranger Caprice please head west, there is something you need to see. SCHSHCSCS”

What could I even need to see there? And why me? They had just recalled everyone back, what would they need me for. I began to head left, shivering in the now cool air of the forest. I stopped.

The previous message said not to trust the radio. But how could I trust that one? What if I did have to go to the pavilion and the first message was simply another creature. Could they do that? Could they get on to a the base radio? No, I might as well return to base. It was closer and with the longer trek, the cold might kill me. I could only imagine, surviving that thing and those god damn stairs only to succumb to exposure. No, I’d continue heading north and at least there I could fight it off. I couldn’t trust any more communications, nothing that wasn’t face to face. I was turning my radio off, not like it had helped me at all anyway.

It wasn’t there. The radio was no longer clipped to my belt. Why was nothing going right today? Turning I searched frantically, for anything. How long had it been gone? I remembered holding it when it said to return to HQ, that would mean the second message was the trick. But that wasn’t my only problem.

The thing was still following me. How else could I have heard it so clearly? It was near. But I was close to base, so close it had gotten desperate. This was good, right? There must be safety at base, which was why it wanted me gone.  It also had left behind this previous tactic of trying to scare and had gone straight to trying to lead me away. Was it getting braver? I couldn’t tell, I needed to get back. I stopped looking. But as it turns out, I hadn’t needed to.

My radio lay to my right, about fifteen feet, in the middle of a fairy circle. The mushrooms were innocuous enough, but there was no way my radio had ended up there on its own. I was so done. I had fallen for the glasses, but not again, I was heading to base, and not stopping until I was inside.

The walk was uneventful. But I’m pretty sure that was worse than fighting the monster. I could see the base now, nothing stood in my way. I wanted to walk faster, but I couldn’t risk alerting the thing to my safety I guess. This thing had almost tricked me once, but it wasn’t getting me again. I was in the clearing now, no trees, I could see all around the main tower.

Bump bump. Bump bump. I could hear my heart beat with every step. This summer job was going to give me heart palpitations. Jesus.  I didn’t look back until stepping through the door. I noticed salt sprinkled behind me on the path, what that what they were resorting to, salt rings? They couldn’t be serious. I turned to shut the door behind me, watching as a tall black mass slinked farther back into the shadows.

I had beaten it, oh my god, I was safe, there were human people here. I turned my back to the door, making sure to lock it. Riley sat wrapped in a blanket on one of the rec couches, sipping her usual black coffee.

“I can’t believe we lost him, we had the scent and his clothes! How could we lose him Peter? Oh my god,  he was only a little boy, he couldn’t have gone far.” Riley was obviously distraught, Peter sitting at her side, hand around her shoulders.

“I’m telling you, this happens, sometimes there is nothing we can do, the odds are stacked against us anyway. You have to let these things go sometimes Rie, there was nothing you could do.” I could tell Peter was holding it together for Riley, he took these things hard, but she always took them worse.

“He isn’t a thing to let go Peter, he was a child! A child we were responsible for finding,” Riley spoke softly into her cup. “I was leading the pack, it was me that lead you in the wrong direction, say what you want, but I lost him,” Peter had nothing to say to that, there was nothing he could say. Instead he sat silently. I figured now was as good a time as any to enter the conversation.

When I entered the rec room, Riley didn’t look up, Peter glanced at me, looked down, then back up again, quickly.

“Janet! Thank god, you’re back, we were worried sick. It’s been more than an hour since we made the recall, we assumed you went to a different base.  Once we lost the scent of Titus like that, we immediately recalled everyone, couldn’t take the chance of it being a greeni-  a bear. We didn’t want another ranger lost to… a bear attack,” he glanced down again as he said those last words, and from the way he cut himself off and my experiences today, I knew it was no bear the other rangers were worried about.

“Whatever I saw wasn’t a bear, you two need to start talking, now.”

“Oh, uh no there’s nothing to be afraid of in the forest, nothing we can’t handle at least. Probably just some feral animal fed too much by hikers.”

“No, you aren’t avoiding this anymore, I want answers. Bears can’t mimic voices, bears don’t live for hundreds of years, and bears sure as hell can’t say my thoughts out loud as I think them. Explain,” I threw the glasses down on the coffee table in front of them as I spoke, my hands were no longer bloody, maybe they never were, but the glasses were no illusion. Once they registered what I had showed them, there were no words to describe their shock. Peter’s hands flew to his mouth, Riley dropped her mug, coffee seeped onto the floor.

“Where did you get those? Those are the same ones Titus was supposed to be wearing, how could you possibly have those?” After Peter, Riley quickly spoke.

“Weren’t you in the northern quadrant for nightly patrol? You couldn’t have been anywhere near us. Tell us exactly, where did you get those glasses?” Riley’s voice was urgent, and I answered straight away.

“I found them on the god damn staircases, and don’t tell me you haven’t heard of them because so help me god if I don’t get some answers, I will break that salt ring and you’ll see first-hand what I was talking about,” there was no way I’d actually do that, but they didn’t know that. Riley opened her mouth first.

“Please tell me you didn’t climb the stairs, were the glasses on the stairs? What prompted you to do it? Please tell me, this is important,” both of their faces were void of color, but I had come here for answers, and that was what I was getting.

“Yes, I climbed the stairs, that’s how I got the glasses, they sat on the top step. And I don’t know, I just needed to I guess.”

“What time did you climb those stairs exactly?” Truth be told I wasn’t sure, I had kind of forgotten about my watch at that point in my nightmare adventure.

“I don’t know, 5:30-ish, sometime before dusk I think? It was still light outside, why is that important?” If possible their faces paled more than before.

“That was when Peter and I lost the scent. We should have told you about this. Oh god, we should’ve talked to you about this, I’m so sorry, I just liked you. And Peter and I were excited to finally have a new ranger on our base, it gets so boring here, but we were worried you’d leave once you found out about the weird stuff, but oh god, we should have told you.”

“Please, tell us everything, everything that happened on your patrol.”

What was I supposed to do? I told him.

When I was finished we sat in silence for a bit, I wasn’t sure what to say, I didn’t want to mention that I heard something outside. I’m pretty sure the salt ring did its trick, as it stopped after a while.

Riley cleaned up her coffee, wiping it off the floor in quick, sure strokes. When she went to place the cup in the sink, Peter and I went with her to the kitchen. None of us wanted to be alone I guess. I dozed off around 8pm, fearing for my life had taken a lot out of me. All three of still sat together on the one ratty couch in the rec room. No one left, I think Peter fell asleep too. Riley stayed, but she didn’t sleep; I don’t know whether it was to keep watch or to calm her nerves, but I’m glad she did it. My sleep was dreamless, and for once, I was glad.

It was about midnight when I came to; when I did Don was sitting on the love seat near my right side, sipping coffee, black, like Riley. As soon as my eyes flicked open he lowered his drink, sitting his mug on the table. Clearing his throat, he spoke,

“I know you want answers, I understand that, It’s valid. But you have to understand the forest already does what it can; those things were here before us and will be here long after. They’re as natural as deer here at Wreinrich.” I opened my mouth to say something, to protest that that wasn’t natural but Don raised a hand to silence me. “We don’t exactly have names for them, and we don’t know much, but we’re learning every day, and that’s what matters. I take that back; we have a sort of nickname, they got it a few years back. Greenies, something about forests and green, I guess; after not having any name at all, greenies just stuck. The most important thing to remember, they aren’t evil, just dangerous. Greenies are about as evil as a hungry bear, only difference being they like smarter prey.” Don didn’t have any fear as he said this. He spoke as if this should have been common sense.

But when something gets inside your head. There isn’t common sense, none at all.

“Part of our mission at Wreinrich is to protect, we protect the forest from people, and the people from the forest, that means all of the forest. The creatures are just that, creatures; they don’t conspire they just live and breathe like the rest of us, plain and simple. The stairs on the other hand. Well we don’t know, even the greenies avoid those, like stepping in a fairy ring, that is. We don’t know how those work, we haven’t been able to study them like we have others, it’s too dangerous. Once they have you in their grasp, that’s usually it, the hold is too compelling. Bad things happen when you climb the stairs. We find dead rangers, there are broken in stations, sometimes we find half a ranger—wouldn’t be the first time—, when the stairs are climbed we lose scents. They don’t have rhyme, they don’t have reason, but when you see stairs, run. It’s the best course of action.”

This was insane, sentient stairs. But I was relieved. Both in that I wasn’t the only one in the dark, and that we had some information about them, these greenies.

“Now I understand if you want you leave now. We won’t hold any grudges; in fact, I’ll send you off with a letter of recommendation. This line of work isn’t for everyone and I acknowledge this. But just know we could use you on our team. Our bases are small, and it’s hard to find the right member to expand when you’re this close knit. But you fit, and we all like you. I think I speak for everyone when I say we’d love to have you on the team. ¨

I didn´t want to, but I knew my answer, and I think Don did too. I still wanted to stay. Before this afternoon I had never know any of this existed, and now there was more? The scientist in me almost couldn´t resist. Sure, I had been scared to death at least eight times, but I was alone then, now I would have a team. And as much as I claimed I didn´t, I still loved the forest. I wanted to learn all I could about these creatures, if I left now I might never know anything else. Hell, Arizona didn’t have anywhere to get this information. The curiosity bug had bitten me, and it wasn´t letting go anytime soon. I had made up my mind.

¨I´ll stay, on two conditions. I don´t want to be in the dark about anything else, you need to not withhold any other information, it´s too dangerous for that. And second, I want a partner. I love the forest and I´m excited to learn about the creatures in it, but I don´t want to be alone again. If you can do that, I´d love to stay. ¨ With that the older man smiled, the twinkle in his eyes slowly returning. Downing the last bit of coffee he clapped a hand on my shoulder.

¨Glad to here it Caprice! I think we can arrange those just fine. I´m glad to have you on the team. ¨

I was told that we would get everything situated the next morning, leaving the rest of this day to observe and recoup. This was insane, I couldn´t believe I had agreed to this. But at the same time? I couldn´t imagine doing anything else.

 FIN

?

[gordonwilliamsweb]

Stronger than ever

Calvin Monroe, 5, looks like he stepped out of the Sunday comics.

It’s Halloween morning. He steps through the elevator doors at Spectrum Health Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital Congenital Heart Center, wearing a red- and black-striped shirt.

He’s carrying his well-loved stuffed animal, Hobbes, a gift from his aunt on the day of his birth.

Calvin’s hair is spiked with gel.

“He’s Calvin and Hobbes,” his mom, Holly, says.

On this morning, Calvin and Hobbes are there for a heart scan and a follow-up appointment with his cardiologist, Christopher Ratnasamy, MD.

They’ve been through worse together. Much worse.

Just weeks earlier, Calvin cuddled Hobbes as he recovered from open heart surgery.

At just 3 months old, Calvin had Hobbes by his side during a weeks-long hospital stay in which doctors placed him on a life-saving machine that pumped his heart.

In the wake of a successful surgery on Oct. 7, performed by pediatric cardiovascular surgeon Marcus Haw, MD, doctors are hoping it’ll be awhile before Calvin and his stuffed Hobbes again see the inside of an operating room.

“He’s a trouper,” Holly said.

Irregular heartbeat

Shortly after his October 2014 birth, doctors diagnosed Calvin with Ebstein’s anomaly.

It’s a congenital heart defect in which the tricuspid valve, between the two right heart chambers, doesn’t work properly. This causes blood to leak back through the valve, making the heart work less efficiently.

Calvin also had a hole in his heart, which worked to offset some of the effects of the Ebstein’s anomaly.

On New Year’s Eve 2014, Holly and her husband, Josh, had to rush Calvin to the emergency department at Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital.

He had an irregular heartbeat.

Doctors called it supraventricular tachycardia.

Less than an hour later, his tiny heart stopped.

Doctors restored the beat within minutes and placed him on an extracorporeal membrane oxygenation, commonly known as ECMO, a state-of-the-art heart and lung bypass support machine.

Without help from the machine, Calvin may not have survived.

Holly and Josh knew Calvin would likely need open-heart surgery at some point to repair or replace the valve affected by the Ebstein’s anomaly.

Doctors monitored him closely, but they wanted to wait as long as they could before intervening surgically.

Calvin did well for a few years, until he began having chest pain and feeling fatigued. The right side of his heart also began to expand, so much that his rib cage protruded, Holly said.

This past fall, after extensive testing and consultation, Calvin’s doctors decided the time had come.

The Monroes agreed.

“We were expecting it and so was the family,” Dr. Haw said.

‘Kids are amazing’

The surgery came six days after Calvin’s fifth birthday.

Dr. Haw set out to repair Calvin’s tricuspid valve. This is the preferred treatment for young patients like Calvin, so they don’t have to undergo valve replacements, which have limitations.

It’s a complicated repair because every patient’s anatomy is different, Dr. Haw said.

“Calvin was a little unusual,” Dr. Haw said. “He didn’t have as much of the three leaflets (of the tricuspid valve), so I didn’t have as much valve tissue as usual.”

Still, the doctor successfully completed the repair.

“He’s doing great now,” Dr. Haw said. “And I would expect him to do great indefinitely.

“Kids are amazing,” he said. “Once they’ve recovered, they do very, very well.”

Dr. Haw said he is pleased to be able to offer care for complex congenital heart disease close to home for families like the Monroes, so they don’t have to travel long distances.

Holly is ever grateful, knowing Calvin had been placed in good hands.

“We asked him to treat Calvin like he was his own,” she said.

“We were nervous, but he’s the best,” she said. “I trust that we were at the perfect place for Calvin. I don’t think we would have had the same result somewhere else.”

If you ask Calvin what happened during surgery, he’ll tell you he got an Ironman heart. He went home after seven days in the hospital—seven tough days, for certain.

“When you sit there and he’s like, ‘I want to die,’” Holly said. “It was the worst week of my life.”

Holly recalls a particularly emotional moment when Calvin got a visit from his big brother, Abram.

“Abram said to Calvin, ‘I will die for you,’ and Calvin reached out and held his hand,” Holly said.

She captured a photo of it on her phone.

Calvin missed out on six weeks of kindergarten at Grandville Public Schools, a necessary precaution to ensure he didn’t get sick before surgery and also to give him plenty of time to heal afterward.

His teachers visited him at home once a week. Friends and family, too, gathered around the Monroes. They provided meals and watched after the other two children, Abram, 6, and Ginny, 3.

At a Halloween morning follow-up, Calvin got an excellent report.

“He’s healing well,” Dr. Ratnasamy said. “It’s a good repair for now. We probably will need to do something down the road, but hopefully not for many, many years.”

Holly took great comfort in those words. It all validated her decision to let Calvin’s surgery proceed.

“I want him to be able to run and play and participate in things,” she said. “He’s stronger than we could ever have known.”

Stronger than ever published first on https://nootropicspowdersupplier.tumblr.com/

[michellelinkous]

Stronger than ever

Calvin Monroe, 5, looks like he stepped out of the Sunday comics.

It’s Halloween morning. He steps through the elevator doors at Spectrum Health Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital Congenital Heart Center, wearing a red- and black-striped shirt.

He’s carrying his well-loved stuffed animal, Hobbes, a gift from his aunt on the day of his birth.

Calvin’s hair is spiked with gel.

“He’s Calvin and Hobbes,” his mom, Holly, says.

On this morning, Calvin and Hobbes are there for a heart scan and a follow-up appointment with his cardiologist, Christopher Ratnasamy, MD.

They’ve been through worse together. Much worse.

Just weeks earlier, Calvin cuddled Hobbes as he recovered from open heart surgery.

At just 3 months old, Calvin had Hobbes by his side during a weeks-long hospital stay in which doctors placed him on a life-saving machine that pumped his heart.

In the wake of a successful surgery on Oct. 7, performed by pediatric cardiovascular surgeon Marcus Haw, MD, doctors are hoping it’ll be awhile before Calvin and his stuffed Hobbes again see the inside of an operating room.

“He’s a trouper,” Holly said.

Irregular heartbeat

Shortly after his October 2014 birth, doctors diagnosed Calvin with Ebstein’s anomaly.

It’s a congenital heart defect in which the tricuspid valve, between the two right heart chambers, doesn’t work properly. This causes blood to leak back through the valve, making the heart work less efficiently.

Calvin also had a hole in his heart, which worked to offset some of the effects of the Ebstein’s anomaly.

On New Year’s Eve 2014, Holly and her husband, Josh, had to rush Calvin to the emergency department at Helen DeVos Children’s Hospital.

He had an irregular heartbeat.

Doctors called it supraventricular tachycardia.

Less than an hour later, his tiny heart stopped.

Doctors restored the beat within minutes and placed him on an extracorporeal membrane oxygenation, commonly known as ECMO, a state-of-the-art heart and lung bypass support machine.

Without help from the machine, Calvin may not have survived.

Holly and Josh knew Calvin would likely need open-heart surgery at some point to repair or replace the valve affected by the Ebstein’s anomaly.

Doctors monitored him closely, but they wanted to wait as long as they could before intervening surgically.

Calvin did well for a few years, until he began having chest pain and feeling fatigued. The right side of his heart also began to expand, so much that his rib cage protruded, Holly said.

This past fall, after extensive testing and consultation, Calvin’s doctors decided the time had come.

The Monroes agreed.

“We were expecting it and so was the family,” Dr. Haw said.

‘Kids are amazing’

The surgery came six days after Calvin’s fifth birthday.

Dr. Haw set out to repair Calvin’s tricuspid valve. This is the preferred treatment for young patients like Calvin, so they don’t have to undergo valve replacements, which have limitations.

It’s a complicated repair because every patient’s anatomy is different, Dr. Haw said.

“Calvin was a little unusual,” Dr. Haw said. “He didn’t have as much of the three leaflets (of the tricuspid valve), so I didn’t have as much valve tissue as usual.”

Still, the doctor successfully completed the repair.

“He’s doing great now,” Dr. Haw said. “And I would expect him to do great indefinitely.

“Kids are amazing,” he said. “Once they’ve recovered, they do very, very well.”

Dr. Haw said he is pleased to be able to offer care for complex congenital heart disease close to home for families like the Monroes, so they don’t have to travel long distances.

Holly is ever grateful, knowing Calvin had been placed in good hands.

“We asked him to treat Calvin like he was his own,” she said.

“We were nervous, but he’s the best,” she said. “I trust that we were at the perfect place for Calvin. I don’t think we would have had the same result somewhere else.”

If you ask Calvin what happened during surgery, he’ll tell you he got an Ironman heart. He went home after seven days in the hospital—seven tough days, for certain.

“When you sit there and he’s like, ‘I want to die,’” Holly said. “It was the worst week of my life.”

Holly recalls a particularly emotional moment when Calvin got a visit from his big brother, Abram.

“Abram said to Calvin, ‘I will die for you,’ and Calvin reached out and held his hand,” Holly said.

She captured a photo of it on her phone.

Calvin missed out on six weeks of kindergarten at Grandville Public Schools, a necessary precaution to ensure he didn’t get sick before surgery and also to give him plenty of time to heal afterward.

His teachers visited him at home once a week. Friends and family, too, gathered around the Monroes. They provided meals and watched after the other two children, Abram, 6, and Ginny, 3.

At a Halloween morning follow-up, Calvin got an excellent report.

“He’s healing well,” Dr. Ratnasamy said. “It’s a good repair for now. We probably will need to do something down the road, but hopefully not for many, many years.”

Holly took great comfort in those words. It all validated her decision to let Calvin’s surgery proceed.

“I want him to be able to run and play and participate in things,” she said. “He’s stronger than we could ever have known.”

Stronger than ever published first on https://smartdrinkingweb.tumblr.com/

[brainsinmyheadfeetinmyshoes]

Three weeks postpartum & preschool

Oh man, I better get writing. So many little things.

Celia is growing so quickly. When she was first born, for about a week, she would flinch every time she was touched. Like she really wasn’t used to it, haha. I just don’t want to forget that little quirk of hers, since it was so short-lived.

As her tears came in last week, she appeared to have clogged tear ducts because both eyes would get goopy. Apparently it’s pretty common and can persist up to a year. I swabbed them routinely but nothing seemed to really do the trick until I put breastmilk in them. One eye seemed to clear up immediately, the other got much better but kept gooping up for the next few days. Last night, the membrane must have opened though, because I haven’t had to swab either eye all day. Hooray! Even though it’s harmless, eye goop looks pretty gross.

We still haven’t given her a bath, just wiped her down as needed (neck folds, leg creases, under arms) but I think today is the day. I’m excited because I think she’ll enjoy it.

She’s still pretty low-maintenance with periods of tanking up, gas, diaper blowouts, and sleep. They’re not predictable patterns but she’ll spend time looking at the high-contrast books, and tries to lift her head up now, in the waking periods, so that’s fun for everyone.

I’m feeling pretty well recovered. So much so, that I’m shocked to realize that it’s still only been 3 weeks and some change since I pushed a baby out. That’s the miracle of childbirth, for sure. I just feel so... normal?! most of the time. Yesterday, I was on my feet for probably six hours. I could NEVER do that pregnant. Cooking meals is a semi-welcome endeavor now, because I have more than a shred of energy to put some time into it. When I wash dishes, the freaking knobs on the cabinet doors no longer press painfully into my abdomen. Many of my non-maternity shirts, skirts, and dresses are fitting again (pants and shorts, not yet). Most importantly, with Lucian having started preschool (more below), I’m going to do 30min of walking every weekday for the month of September, and hopefully October too. I can push Lionel in the stroller and wear Celia. Yesterday was my first day and man, I was BEAT. As ho-hum as a walk seems, it was a serious workout. I was very tired, glistening with sweat, my muscles felt engaged the rest of the day, and I was a little sore this morning. Even though I don’t much care for walking, and it’s inconvenient to do it with two kids, I want to take advantage of nice weather, and jump right into improving my baseline fitness/health. 

ALSO, I think my gestational diabetes has resolved in record time. Thirst was an obvious signal whenever I would overdue the carbs/sugar during pregnancy and I’ve still had extreme thirst since Celia was born, but there are many reasons for it--losing all the excess pregnancy water with heavy sweating, and lactation requiring more, to name two. But in the last few days, my thirst has become manageable, so I began to suspect the GD was gone (despite being quoted a 6-8 week target for resolution). After breakfast this morning (a muffin and banana, two no-no’s during pregnancy, and a death knell in combination, surely putting me in the 160-180 range I would guess), my blood sugar was at a model 105. I’ll keep checking here and there, but I’m pretty thrilled at not feeling like I’m harming my body if I put a piece of fruit in my mouth, let alone a cookie or boba smoothie.

So, Lucian started preschool last Thursday. We had a whole, painful, nauseating saga early in the week because we were offered a spot at our chosen Montessori school for him. I was THRILLED. We’ve watched our waitlist number dwindle down and I was so excited at the prospect of a) Montessori, and b) early dismissal. (Most schools go until 3:15-4pm in the area, even for PK3, because it’s easier for parents who work, but it’s such an unnecessarily long day for the age.) But lo and behold, they require kids to be potty trained. And Lucian simply is not. He’s been wearing underpants at least one day a week for three months, sometimes more, but hasn’t been motivated by any of our half-hearted training attempts. M&Ms, stickers, “isn’t that icky on your bottom,” and big boy underpants just haven’t done the trick. But in the last week before school, he started wearing them every day. He’d use the toilet maybe 4 times, and go in his underpants 1-2 times. I was tempted to enroll him anyway, with the thought that maybe he would move away from diapers if he had a school=underpants association, the social pressure, and the reinforcement from teachers, but in my heart of hearts I knew that was wrong, and Erik said he would never have allowed it anyway. That would have been a ton of potential trauma/pressure, when starting school is momentous/stressful enough anyway. And more urgently, if we were asked to pull him from the school, we would have NO other seats open to us. So I cried and cried. Sobbed. Then declined the offer. We were SO disappointed. And disappointment is just such a bitch of an emotion. The irony is that Montessori is all about child-led learning, and we’re letting our child lead on the one thing that disqualifies him from child-led education. Such BS. The other bit of irony is that he’s probably going to be totally toilet-trained within a few weeks at any school, because he’s riiiiiight there. Boo hiss. It makes me sick to my stomach thinking about the whole thing now. Just totally burns me.

But la-dee-dah, he started PK3 at our local default public school. It’s not a bad/unsafe/dangerous school whatsoever. But having taught Montessori, that is my preference. And being a bilingual household, a bilingual school would also be my preference. Oh well. The DC school lottery is a special beast and we simply didn’t win the lottery.

He’s taking school really hard. He’s such a sensitive/clingy little guy, and has never been in a social setting like this, so we expected a big adjustment and we’re getting it. The first day he cried allllll day and didn’t pee/poop until evening. He was also starving when he got home, even though he’d eaten much of his lunch. The second day, he peed once on the toilet (at the insistence of the teacher) and told me he only cried two times. The teacher asked us to print out a wallet-sized family photo to keep in his pocket. The third day (yesterday), the teacher said he cried 80% of the time, but the 20% that he didn’t was good. The minute he saw us, he said, “I miss you so much today, Mama. Lionel, I’m back from school. I miss you so much. Where my daddy?” So he’s definitely taking in language from the teachers (we’re having to press him to keep using Papi instead of Daddy, so we’ll see how long that lasts.) He only peed once again, and only when coerced, and the minute we went through the door at home, he torrentially wet his pants. Today, he woke up with a runny nose, and his crying started in the car rather than at the classroom door. He said he peed his pants while in the carseat, but I think now it was a ploy to go home, because he was dry, and I told him his teachers had a change of clothes for him anyway. He asked to sleep and sleep at school, so maybe the runny nose will become a worse illness, or maybe it was another ploy. At the classroom, he agreed to pee in the toilet and exclaimed how hungry he was, all through dramatic tears, so I don’t know what to make of it all. He’s cheerful/unscathed at home, and doesn’t even act exhausted (though he looks it). And the cutest thing of all, even through his pitiful weeping one of the days, he consistently used please, thank you, excuse me, etc. It was precious. Anyway, I’m definitely able to detach and stay strong through this adjustment, but I’ll be so relieved when crying at drop-off is behind us. It’s just such a raincloud for starting the day.

Lionel is adjusting too, and definitely seems vaguely bored. He’s always been good at self-entertaining, but seems to want to interact with me more than usual, probably to make up for not having Lucian around. but it’s been refreshing to spend a bit more time watching him, since it’s evident when his wheels are turning, and gives me more patience/understanding when I see that in fact, he IS doing what I asked, just in a circuitous way, and I shouldn’t rush him. I need to be conscious of actively spending time with him, since it’s easy to feel like I get a break when I only have one of the boys. But we’ll find a rhythm soon. Today is only the second day I’m flying solo with all three kids all day, and I don’t have my footing yet. I’m starting from scratch with a new routine that includes school pickup/dropoff, a newborn, a new naptime, a workout, and meal prep, so understandably, it doesn’t resemble our free-flow from before. But little by little.