#i meant particulate size

[ramblingandpie]

I made this a while ago but I feel like I can reuse it for this.

Someone passing out from fever or sickness, but in a fictional way where you can rush to pick them up and wrap them in a blanket on your couch, not where you call EMS and worry that they might have cracked their head on a sidewalk. Their eyes actually close, unlike in real life where people sometimes faint with their eyes partly or entirely open.

Someone being drugged, but in a fictional way where they glaze over and then gracefully faint, but continue breathing, instead of the real world way, where we have to have a respirator during surgery because substances that produce sustained unconsciousness also tend to paralyze breathing. I like sci fi settings where I can make up drugs for this reason, I know too much about anesthesia.

Someone being put to sleep with magic, which requires no qualifier because it never has medical health risks. I like fantasy settings because of this, too.

Someone passing out from being choked with someone's thighs or arm, but in a fictional way where they stay out without the risk of brain damage or death and they don't lose bowel or bladder control.

The comical clonk on the head is just ruined for me entirely unless it's an overt cartoon, because concussions are scary and subdural hematoma is even scarier.

As a writer I want to do research. As a whump fetishist I have learned that once I have done research, sometimes I harm my own suspension of disbelief. Oops.

[blackmagicspecialist786-blog]

Biden Administration Moves to Tighten Limits on Deadly Air Pollution

WASHINGTON - The Biden administration announced on Friday to tighten the restrictions to fine particle matter (FPM), which is a dangerous air pollutant, also called soot. It's it's the first time in over 10 years in the past decade that the government takes action on a toxic substance that is responsible for thousands of premature deaths each year. Fine particulate matter originates from smokestacksand construction sites vehicles, power plants and various other industrial processes. Its diameter is less than 2.5 micrometers, which is one-third the size of a human hair and is able to be embedded into the lung. It can cause stroke, heart attacks and respiratory illnesses. The proposed rule from the Environmental Protection Agency would tighten the current limit that was in effect since 2012, as much than 25 percent. The Administration estimates that it can save as many as 4200 premature deaths per year and 270,000 workdays missed each year. This could yield up to $43 billion in economic and health benefits by 2032. The Biden Administration's Environmental Agenda Michael Regan, the E.P.A. administrator, said that the new rule was a crucial part of the Biden administration's efforts to tackle environmental justice. Minorities and poor communities are particularly vulnerable to soot and pollutants due to being often located near power plants, highways and other industrial sites. "Our work to deliver clean, breathable air for everyone is a top priority at E.P.A., and this proposal will help ensure that all communities, especially the most vulnerable among us, are protected from exposure to harmful pollution," Mr. Regan said in a phone conversation with reporters. A 2018 study conducted by E.P.A. scientists released in American Journal of Public Health discovered it was found that Black communities were more at danger of developing health issues due to exposure to industrial fumes than the general population. "No one should be sickened by the environment they live in, and E.P.A.'s proposal marks the start of changes that will have a lasting impacts in communities all over, especially Black and brown communities," the Dr. Doris Browne, former president of the National Medical Association, the largest national organization that represents Black doctors. In the case of Mayela Bustos who is 61 years old, who is a teacher's assistant for children with disabilities in southeast Houston more stringent standards for air pollution can't come anytime soon enough. "We have some of the worst air quality in the world in this neighborhood, and as someone who struggles with chronic respiratory problems, on some days I struggle to breathe," she declared. The Clean Air Act requires that the federal government examine the research associated with particulate matter at least every five years and modify limits in accordance with. However, despite suggestions from its own experts, and research that suggests that tightening pollutant limits would save thousands of lives every year however, in the Trump Administration in the year 2020 refused to make the change. The last time they were tightened was in 2012. "The fact that the previous administration missed the opportunity to strengthen these standards meant that in the interim we saw people suffer the health impacts of these standards that should have been tightened," said Laura Bender, an assistant vice president of the American Lung Association. Business groups warn that this new rule could hurt the economy that is already suffering from the effects of inflation. "While it is important to continue making progress, further reducing particulate matter standards may lead to unintended consequences and hamper our ability to build badly needed infrastructure," said Chad Whiteman, vice president of regulatory and environmental matters at the U.S. Chamber of Commerce's Global Energy Institute. "In this period of high inflation and supply chain disruptions, the U.S. cannot afford more disruptions to our economy." The E.P.A.'s cost-benefit analysis of the proposed rule found that it will cost the industry anywhere from $95 million to $390 million in 2032. However, the agency estimates that the economic value, as measured by the number of lives saved, illnesses avoided and missed workdays avoided in the future, could outweigh these expenses by anywhere from between $8 billion and $43 billion in the same period. The draft rule proposes to lower the standard for particulate matter from a maximum that is 12 micrograms for each cubic millimeter to levels between 9 to 10-micrograms for each cubic meters. The E.P.A. will allow public input regarding rules proposed for up to 60 days. The agency officials have said that from the comments received they may decide to make changes to the rule before deciding on it most likely in the coming months. Some environmental justice advocates argued that the proposed rule did not go enough to ensure the safety of vulnerable communities. "This rule falls short of taking steps to mitigate the decades of neglect and harm done to the health of our communities and to the health of Latino children in particular," said Laura M. Esquivel, vice president of policy for the federal division for the Hispanic Federation. "We will continue to advocate for the Biden administration to do more to ensure Latino communities are not left at risk." It is just the most recent in a string of decisions taken of Biden's administration Biden administration to strengthen and restore environmental protections, which were taken back as well as weakened or ignored by the presidency of Donald J. Trump. After the midterms in November the president. Biden now faces two years of the tense Congress with little chance of legislation significant in his next 2 years. He is forced to lean on the executive power. In 2021, the E.P.A. reinstated Obama-era regulations on climate-warming auto pollution that were removed under the administration of Mr. Trump, and it is anticipated to restrict the rules later in the year. In addition, the officials from the agency plan to finish an overhaul of the regulations governing methane leaks, an extremely warming gas that leaks out of gas and oil wells, and to introduce an entirely new rule that will rein the carbon dioxide emissions of power plants, following the Trump administration had weakened and reversed regulations on these pollutants. Read the full article

[bosmermage]

Whumptober Day 2 - Alt Prompt

Head Injury Characters: Link, Ezlo, Vaati  

Link burst into the room, carpet bunching under his sprinting, head still buzzing off the rush of wind magic soaking into his blade, the four sword now. The stained glass dyed the room a vivid particulate rainbow and Link soaked in it.

“Ah! Link! Look at this stained glass,” Ezlo pecked at the boy who responded with a dismissive flap of his hands. “See? There is the Minish Blade, and the sealing of the great evils, and there is the light force. The princess kept it safe-”

“Ohh! So that's what it means?” Vaati's voice rung out through the cavernous room, airy and mocking in it's faux curiosity. “Oh Ezlo, really, you're too kind! You've given me this wonderful hat, and now you've led me here! It's a shame then, that I don't have any more use for you”

Link drew his sword and faced down the disguised mage, rocoiling when the face of the king he was wearing began bubbling up and distorting in horror before melting away and revealing a sickening grin stretching across the wind mage's features.

“How brave of you hero”

Before Link could so much as move a pale hand extended and flicked towards him. The pillar of air crushed into Link's chest flinging him back, and he was sent skidding across the stone floor, and he knew no more.

“LINK, LINK. Come on then, please wake up Link,”

“Ezloo? Wha, wha 'appened?” Link slurred, grabbing weakly at his companion's flapping beak, not even bothering to fight it when Ezlo shook his hand off, more gently than usual.

“Link, come on, open up your eyes, you gotta get up kiddo,” Ezlo nudged at Link's head, very gently. It was too much. White hot pain errupted from the back of his head and he writhed against it, scream high and piercing.

“ Link I know it hurts, but you have to listen to me, come on kiddo please open your eyes for me,” Ezlo's voice was wet, and over the throbbing pain, distantly, he found it very funny because after all: hats cant cry and yet Ezlo was.

“Link breathe okay? Deep breath in for me,” was he not breathing? He wasn't breathing, his lungs hurt too. His voice hurt but the pain was all consuming anyways. He forced his lungs to take in air screaming turning into sobbing when another wave of pain shot through him.

“hurrts Ezlo hurts so bad make it stop please make it stop,” he begged. Link couldn't move, could barely twitch his fingers “PlEaseee it hurrrts”

“Link I know, I know it hurts I know, I need you to breathe for me okay? Come on, thats it. Just keep breathing for me, I need to get your potion. I need you to move me okay?”

Link nodded, wiping the tears off his cheeks roughly. He immediately regretted that decision. He couldn't think over the pain flowing down his spine, out of his eyes, over his cheeks, almost cold it was so hot. The world dissolved into sparks and an overwhelming nausea. He matched his breathing to Ezlo's desperate struggle to escape his head. Oh right, he was moving. He lifted his head for Ezlo to wiggle away choking back bile when he layed it back down.

Ezlo was saying something, moving his head with his beak, the world went white again.

“can't see Ezlo cant see, hurts i can't see Grandpa, Zelly I can't see, it hurts” Link was screaming again he couldn't breathe over the pain, over the blur of light and colours overwhelming his eyes. He felt something brush against his lips and he really did puke this time, convulsing back from the sensation. The sound of shattering glass brought relief, a cool feeling washing away the pain like the sun breaking through the clouds. He lay in it, letting it seep into him like a hot bath.

Slowly the world begain to sharpen back into focus, drawing over Link's consciousness like a file.

“Link come on Link, wake up sleepyhead.”

Link's eyes snapped open to the sound of a distant bell, fighting through the swimming colours. Ezlo was curled into his side making an awful wheezing noise he was half sure was meant to be crying. His head felt sticky and stained his hand red.

“'M ok. Gotta save Zel, gotta, mm” Link clutched onto Ezlo like a lifeline. That's right, he's a hero, he's gotta save Zelly from Vaati, he's gotta get up. Get up Link. Be the light that banishes the darkness Link.

The sacred sword is sticky. A broken bottle. A pool of liquid. Potion. A potion spilled. The ground is swimming, Link stumbled over to the wall, collapsing against it roughly, wincing at the pain.

“Link, take a potion,” Ezlo is wrapped around his neck uncomfortably, link digs through his pockets blindly,

“nuh uh, last one's broken” he slurred, patting Ezlo's head clumsily. “gotta wait, save, gotta save the fairy's help jus in case”

He stumbled into the hallway, realizing very suddenly that he was hopelessly lost.

“Where?” He asked, poking at Ezlo who was still insisting on playing at being a scarf.

“Oh Link.” He sighed, rubbing his cheek into the mess of blood and potion. “Take it slow okay? You can't save the world if you work yourself to death”

“Nuh uh, gotta save Zelly she's in trouble, we gotta go.” and go he went.

The castle came in flashes, patches of unbearable brightness and patches of blessed darkness, prismatic worry. Hard fights that left Link sprawling against the wall and crying into his knees. The dark-nuts were the worst of them all. Two of them, he could barely tell if he was seeing double. The hit came from his blind spot, sending him sprawling out over the floor. He could hear chiming. Bells chiming, laughter chiming, the sound of fairy magic chiming. He was up on his feet, focus restored.

“Hurry Link, it might not be too late” How long had Ezlo been talking? Link shot out of the room, not even waiting for the clouds to dissipate. The stairs seemed endless, like they were stretching up beyond him, looping as he ran in place. He crested the stairs to the tolling of a bell.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Vaati was lounging over an altar, distinctly Hylian looking. “No..”

“Oh yes old man, oh yes indeed! How was it by the way? Drowning in the sick of your useless hero?”

Link did not wait to hear Vaati's taunts. He vaulted forward driving his sword into the closest bit of flesh available. Vaati screamed, backing up over the rubble scattered on the ground. Link was relentless, a strength not his own driving him into the battered mage, over and over and again and again. He ignored the burns beginning to litter his arms as he drove into the battle, his only thoughts on ripping the breath from Vaati's lungs.

For all his pomp and grandeur Vaati's death was an anticlimactic affair. He lurched forwards, sprawled out in the dirty chamber, scrabbling as Link pried the light force from his writhing form with his sword. And then he expired, slumped on the ground, still as stone. And Link clutched the light force and he wept. He wept for the pain and the sorrow and for all the shards of his beloved friend scattered on the ground. And he wished for the impossible, and Ezlo held him. When had he become himself again? Link was not minish sized. He didn't care. He sobbed, letting the dizziness pull him down into the waiting arms of his green clad companion.

And when he woke up, Zelda would tell him about how bravely he fought, and how he rescued her in the nick of time, and how he had such terrible nightmares while he was asleep. And she would tell him of how he'd brought back Ezlo. And conveniently she would forget how she woke up on the cold floor feeling hollow but for the buzzing aftermath of honey sweet light magic to the sound of his broken wailing. And conveniently she would forget the feeling of helping Ezlo wash sick and blood and potion from his tangled hair.

[willadisastercry]

The part where they try not to freak out: ‘When the Dust Clears’ pt. 2

tw: minor mentions on gore. this is very tame and not graphic at all, mostly just Lance hurt/comfort and Pidge being a smart ass.

The onset of another quake spurs the three trapped paladins into action. Well...? Really only Pidge. But without much from the barren ruins to go off of, she’s finding it difficult to macgyver her way out of this one. The water level is rising and the longer Lance goes without medical care, the more anxious Shiro is getting. Everyone’s resolves are dwindling with the threat of another quake that can occur at any moment hanging over their heads. How the hell are they going to get out of this alive? Good question.

This update was kinda short but stay tuned for the wrap up of this fic. It gets very harrowing and I’m not nearly done hurting Lance ;)))

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Shiro took his arm off Lance once the only thing still shaking was him.

The quake came on so fast that there wasn’t time to do much in the way of preparation, not that there was much to do anyway. But Lance was the only one missing a helmet so Shiro settled for gruffly pulling his injured teammate down next to him, shoving his head in the crook of his arm, and covering the top of it with his very human hand in an effort to protect him from any falling debris.

But the rumbling stopped before it moved anything significant. And when he finally shifted to inspect the damage, the pebble sized bits that he’d saved them from fell off easily.

Lance let out a few timid coughs against the dust that was stirred up, not having the energy to roll onto his back and shield his nose from the irritating particulates with how horribly his head was hurting. But the act of coughing and what it angered hurt his scrambled brain worse than the actual head injury.

“I don’t know if that’s the last of it, but I think it’s dying down now,” Pidge noted as she began pulling herself up from where she’d scrambled for cover.

“How do we know if that’s the last of the big quakes and these are just aftershocks?” Shiro asked, his face pinched with worry he wasn’t even bothering to hid anymore.

“We don’t. But I think we have bigger issues for the time being....” her gaze was glued on the bit of water dribbling from underneath a stone in front of her.

“Mmmmh—ugh,” Lance groaned. Words were hard to summon. His mouth was so dry he thought he might asphyxiate on his own ragged breathing if he didn’t clear his throat several times before trying again.

“D’it stop for you guys?” he inquired sluggishly, his voice hoarse and trembling.

“Yes...” Shiro noted slowly, his mind working over too many things at once to compute what that statement might have meant for a moment.

“Did it not for you?”

“Nope,” Lance strained through a shudder, his body shaking like he was cold despite the regulation of his paladin armor. His heavily battered paladin armor.

“Everything’s spinning now actually... the tilt-a-whirl kind...”

Lance’s eyes hadn’t stayed open long even after the dust had cleared. His hands weren’t working right to brush the gunk out and he’d be dizzy either way so he didn’t fuss about it.

“Do you want to try sitting up, maybe that’ll help?”

But they had gotten so heavy. And now that Shiro was looking at him he noticed he could hardly even blink without effort.

“Nah, s’okay... gonna sleep for a bit—“

A rough hand on his shoulder had Lance jerking abruptly, fear twisting his stomach in knots similar to the one throbbing on the side of his head at the thought that another quake had started before Shiro cut through his panic with a serious ‘hey’.

His leader voice was back.

“I was phrasing it as a question out of sympathy. You’re still not allowed to sleep and it’s not a choice, it’s an order.”

“Such a... buzz kill sometimes... know that, right?”

“Yep, wouldn’t have it any other way if it meant you actually listen to me when I give suggestions.”

“This is not... a suggestion... s’bullying...”

“Come on,” Shiro huffed in exasperation as he worked his arm out from under Lance who grumbled at the loss when that meant his aching head was now completely horizontal.

He wasn’t even sure he was still on solid ground with how aggressively dizzy he became after that, the rock floor beneath him shifting like it was melting and he was falling. Except he was well aware that he wasn’t.

“Up you go... thanks Pidge.”

The vertigo only worsened when a strong hand was pushing at his back while another tinier one tugged at his limp arm, their combined effort guiding his pliant body into a sitting position.

“I can handle Lance while you survey the area for anything that might be useful, the water’s rising fast so we don’t have a lot of time.”

Shiro’s hand remained firm on his shoulder when it was apparent he still didn’t have the ability to keep himself even semi upright without assistance.

“Useful how?”

“I don’t know, maybe something that you can shove under the rock to prop it up and use as a lever... something strong...”

There’s a groan of rubble crashing in the distance, displaced from the pressure of the tons of water pouring on top of it.

“Why don’t you get going, yeah?”

Shiro suggested when he saw how Pidge blanched and Lance winced at the sound, the minute vibrations that reached them jarring his brain once more.

“We’ll be right here when you get back,” he reminded with a tight smile.

“You’re seriously not nearly as hilarious as you perceive yourself to be.”

“I know.”

The landscape wasn’t littered with much in the way of useful materials. Mostly giant slabs of uneven stone from the pavilion that made traversing the debris field really annoying with only one hand for balance, especially when additionally trudging through rising water that made everything slippery.

“This is pointless,” she grumbled.

There was nothing useful. Aside from bits of rock that she could maybe jam on either side of Shiro’s arm to alleviate enough pressure for him to slide out once the water rose enough, but there wasn’t any point in lugging those back with her when there was plenty where the boys were.

A particularly slick stone had her heart rate elevating when she narrowly avoided taking a header. It only served to enervate her further.

“Pointless and treacherous...”

But as Pidge made her way closer towards the ruins from the building that got swallowed down with them, the crushed squabble of rubble started to pique her interest. There were actual items squished under large swathes of sediment instead of just more sediment.

The blue light of her suit glinted off of any bits of metal she passed by, though for a while it was mostly rebarb rods and plumbing pipes sticking up between rocks. But the more she spotted the more they got Pidge’s mind working.

It would need to be something smaller. Something that was already bent and not sharp. Something she could free with a few tugs.

She scanned the rubble with a renewed passion once she knew what she was looking for, the water lapping against her ankles as she made her way around the destroyed landscape an unpleasant reminder of what was at stake if she didn’t hurry.

The same couldn’t be said for Shiro and Lance who were sitting on a ticking time bomb. Well? More like in.

“Hey Sh’ro...” Lance whispered, his voice timid.

The wait for Pidge grew bleaker as the time droned on. Not that Lance could even really gauge how much had passed or focus on their impending deaths for long. The several inches of water beneath them was a good marker though.

“Yeah, bud? What’s up?”

They hadn’t done much talking. Lance had made it clear that even Shiro’s hushed voice made his head spin and so he only spoke when checking in every now and then.

“I didn’t...”

He watched carefully as Lance looked down at the water in his lap and shuddered. His breath catches in his throat before he can get his question out and Shiro’s blood goes cold despite the temperature regulators in his suit being in perfect order.

“What’s that?”

He takes as deep a breath as he can manage and averts his gaze.

“Know m’out of it... but I didn’t, right?”

Shiro begins to run through every field medicine fact he knows regarding brain injuries before he follows Lance’s eyes back down to the water lapping against his crossed legs and the several splinters in the lower half of his armor.

He stowed that away for later. That the dents ripped into Lance’s suit meant it was comprised. It meant that so was Pidge’s and so was his and their helmets wouldn’t do them any good because water was bound to get in anyway.

Just like water was getting into Lance’s now...

“Oh, shit you mean—no Lance, no you didn’t. That wasn’t you, it’s just some water from the pipes that broke.”

The sigh he let’s out is a jagged one but he seems to visibly relax at the confirmation.

“Kay... s’good. Was worried for a sec...”

Shiro has to close his eyes and breathe deeply for a second to keep from laughing. Or crying. He’s not sure which but either one would have been hysterical and he was certain that he didn’t want to indulge in that.

The literal only thing he could do was keep Lance calm and he was not about to comprise it by losing his.

Lance hums idly and it eases Shiro’s frayed nerves. He has to be righted briefly when he relaxes his arms and it sends him lurching to the side, but once he remembers himself and locks his elbows again Shiro offers him a terse smile of encouragement.

“Don’t have’t do that, y’know...” Lance grumbles in response.

“Do what? Keep you awake or keep you from splitting your chin open? Because you already know what my answer to both of those questions will be.”

Lance steels himself to turn his head and face Shiro. His eyes are bleary and unfocused when he does. It takes an extra minute for him to process what he’d just heard and another to put together his response.

Shiro’s frown somehow deepens at the realization that he’s getting worse and wonders if he’s already forgotten what they were talking about, maybe even the question he wanted to ask.

“I’m happy to remind you though,” Shiro decides on following up with, his tone gentle as he forces his wrinkled forehead to soften.

Lance hums again but this time it’s contemplative and his brows knit together in concentration.

“Pretend you’re not scared,” he drawls slowly, taking his time enunciating each word but still sounding slightly drunk anyway.

Shiro catches himself before he smiles, before he lies to Lance again.

Lance who is concussed and losing blood from several gashes on his face and head that are more likely to scar to longer he goes without a pod, but coherent enough to know that Shiro is bullshitting him and subtlety tell him to screw off.

“Alright,” he says instead. And this time Shiro allows himself to laugh.

The half of Lance’s face covered in cuts is undoubtedly numb and swelling from the bruises sure to be forming beneath all the blood, but he tries to smile anyway.

Shiro mucks his hair with a light hand far away from any patches of red and they fall into a comfortable silence as they listen for Pidge. It’s what feels like a mini eternity and another three inches closer to drowning before they finally hear her approaching.

“Pigeooooon,” Lance calls out.

“Present,” she mumbles exasperatedly.

Her hair is matted to her forehead with sweat and there’s a skinny pipe tucked under her trembling arm. Shiro would’ve told her to rest for a minute if she wasn’t already clutching a jut of upturned stone for dear life.

“What is that for? You’d need something a bit wider for a wedge...”

“Maybe I wasn’t shooting for a wedge.”

“Pidge this is serious.”

“I’m well aware, you don’t have to remind me—he’s going down.”

“Shit Lance,” Shiro gruffs as he yanks him up from where he was seconds away from falling face first into water.

“Sorry. M’awake.”

“Sure you are,” Pidge agrees sardonically as she kneels beside him and grabs his chin to look him over. His pupils are still dilated and his wounds are still dribbling spurts of bright red but the flow isn’t as heavy as before. At least blood loss won’t get him first.

“Hey, Pidge...”

“Hi, lover boy.”

The nickname elicits what can only be guessed was a sorry attempt at an eye roll but he gets distracted in demonstrating his contempt by what Pidge is presenting Shiro with.

“Mmh was’the tube for?”

“Ever seen the wonky mask that scuba divers use? Well, Shiro’s going to take an unprecedented dive today and this is the best substitute I could find.”

“Hold up—“

“Nope, you don’t get a say, I nearly busted my ass pulling this lose. Tube goes in your mouth. Pinch your nose so you don’t accidentally waterlog your lungs. And pray that the others find us before you have to do any of that.”

Shiro is silent for a long moment but Pidge doesn’t care. She’s too busy catching her breath and willing the fire in her arm to ease to give her stubborn superior any room for protest.

“I should’ve sent Lance.”

[lambourngb]

If you are still doing this, to make it through (with hearts and wrists intact)

combining the wip ask with WIP Wednesday ! Alright, so there’s two remix challenges going on right now, but I didn’t sign up for either of them because I have enormous anxiety about deadlines and I’m also kind of a control freak about my work. I do love the concept, so I decided to remix my own work.

to make it through (with hearts and wrists intact) is a remix of Last Years Wishes. It is completely the fault of @haloud who mused aloud about what if Jesse got to use the shed on Michael. You guys remember what I did to the shed in LYW right? Yeah. Poor Michael. So while Alex is waiting at the Airstream, talking to agents Ross and Rollins, this is how Michael’s day is going....

[warnings: canon divergent within 1x13, mention of Michael’s feelings for Maria, but nothing happens past the discovery of Rosa’s body in the cave ]

“Old man, you are calling me on my day off,” Michael yelled into the receiver of his cell phone speaker over the rushing sound of air after picking up the call. 

The windows were down because his AC in his truck went on the frizz again sometime during when Max had stolen-borrowed it to drive Liz home from Texas, leaving him behind to share a long awkward ride with Maria in her classic Chevy. Awkward because he had been buzzing from the encounter in the desert. He hadn’t slept with anyone in weeks, not since Alex, and that had been a ridiculous attempt for him to pine in celibacy considering just how little the other man had missed him. Some things end in a whimper.

Texas had been about hope, about maybe finding someone who was connected to him on a species level. He hadn’t realized how deeply Max’s enthusiasm had sunk into him until the fraud had been revealed and disappointment had set in. Between Alex’s brusque brush off and realizing they really were alone on this planet, Michael hadn’t thought he could feel even lower with the weight of Isobel’s salvation fully on his shoulders (and Liz’s). Then shining like a bright star in the night sky, he had found Maria. 

She had effectively chased away the touch starved ghouls that had haunted his skin that night, he could still barely believe they had dropped right to the rocky ground and scratchy blanket to fuck. It was the type of raw passion he had with- no, in that particular moment he hadn’t thought about Alex but afterwards? He couldn’t avoid the connection the next morning, particularly when she had sworn him to secrecy, and then had reinforced it when she had fully kicked him out in the cold after he had returned her repaired necklace. 

It was unfortunate for her that he was already wired to enjoy a push-pull hot-cold dynamic.

Ten years of Alex Manes meant Michael had learned to read past a blustering denial to see the real truth. She really liked him, she just didn’t want to admit it, and good god, if that wasn’t a déjà vu moment for Michael, he didn’t know what was. Maybe it was stupid to believe it would work out any better with her than it had with Alex, but with Noah dead, his m- his reason for building his ship gone, what did it hurt to try again?

His healed hand curled around the grip on the steering wheel with a shiver of disorientation at the new flexibility, but he pushed it down to concentrate on that meager bubble of hope of what was ahead for him. Maria. Normalcy. When he had offered to leave her alone at the gala, she had refused to take him up on it. That's the problem, I never do. 

It had felt good to hear that, that he was wanted, even as he heard the conflict in her voice over what she desired versus what she thought she deserved to have. That was also painfully familiar to Michael as well.

Caulfield had seeped into his skin, three layers deep in the worst type of burn. That brief moment of his mother, wrapping around his mind with her love and sorrow and hope, and then she was gone. The screaming, that he had heard from outside the chain link fence, suddenly disappeared as the explosion moved outward in a shockwave. For a few minutes he had stood on solid ground in that prison, for the first time since a sweet boy had returned his kiss at seventeen under a galaxy of plastic foam planets, and then it was over. His mother was gone, and in her stead, he had Alex telling him that -

Michael forcefully pushed that thought away and returned his attention back to the cranky drawl of Walt Sanders, “I know kid, but I’m already out with the wrecker in the other ass-end direction, so I need you to go help this cry baby who can’t change a flat. Help me make some money, so I can afford to keep your ass employed.” 

“Fine, tell me the location, but this is holiday pay, not overtime.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sanders muttered, before rattling off the mile marker and the highway. “It’s a Lincoln sedan, black. Probably some old geezer out on a drive to church who ran into trouble.”

“You calling someone else a geezer is funny to me, I hope you know that,” Michael replied, hitting his turn signal to make a left to pick up the state road. It wasn’t as if he had a planned time to see Maria, the lunch hour and official opening of the bar was still an hour away. A little delay that made him some extra cash was doable. 

“Shut the hell up kid, and get going,” Sanders griped good-naturedly, before hanging up on Michael. 

The sun was bright overhead, the storm from the night before having washed the land and sky clean of clouds. Across the pavement ahead, the heat and the brightness, cast a mirage of dark shimmering water that creeped just out of reach as he drove toward his new destination. His mind ticked over the set of priorities ahead, to make a little money with a tire change, then to drop in on Maria to make his case, and finally, he knew he needed to swing by Isobel’s to check on her in the aftermath of Noah’s betrayal. Somewhere in all of that, he knew he would need to make it home to see Alex for that promised talk, but there was plenty of time for that because Alex rarely came by during the day to see him.

“I’m still fighting his battles, not mine.”

Michael flexed his hands on the steering wheel again and pushed down the heaviness in his heart that accompanied thinking about Alex. Ten long years of waiting and wanting him. If Michael cared to count up all of the trips to Roswell that Alex had made on leave, the two weeks together after the class reunion that frankly felt like a hallucination to Michael, all of those hours spent together would add up to a month. A month that stretched out over ten years, 520 weeks, or 3,650 days.

Counting the distance to the nearest star was in light years, but when it came to counting the distance between the stash of wedding rings he had purchased for Alex over the years and what he had been actually allowed to have with Alex, well, that was a calculation beyond the redshift spectrum. It would take energy to transverse that distance one more time, and Michael had nothing left inside to fuel that journey. He couldn’t afford to be lost in the black again, not with Isobel in free-fall from Noah’s years of manipulations, not with the prospect of telling Liz they had found Rosa’s body on the horizon. It was just too hard to believe that this time, with Alex calling him family, with Alex throwing back the closest declaration to love that he had ever made, actually meant he was ready to move toward Michael and work to cut the distance between them on his own.

It was better to head forward in a new direction, than to look back like Max had said. Besides, every other time he had failed to be enough of a reason to help Alex bridge his own chasm between what he wanted and what he had allowed himself to have. What could have changed? Caulfield had just cemented the complications for them both. 

A dark shadow in the distance, parked just off the road caught Michael’s attention. He glanced down at the odometer to mark the mileage and started to ease up on the gas. That must be the motorist Sanders had fielded a call from earlier, he realized. The ‘old geezer’ in the black Lincoln with a flat tire. He glanced in the rearview mirror to check for traffic but the road behind him was devoid of other vehicles. 

Michael hit the turn signal and hazard lights on his truck, turning briefly to the side to check that he had some spare water bottles for the customer and his toolbox within reach and then turned onto the shoulder of the highway. Mentally he was already five steps ahead of himself as he stepped out of the truck to approach the car, thinking about the size of socket to fit over the lug nuts for the Lincoln’s wheels, whether his torque wrench was even in his box, or if he would have to camouflage his telekinetic efforts to change out the tire, that it took a moment to realize the tires on the Lincoln were whole and unharmed on the driver’s side.

Puzzled, Michael slowed his approach, and started toward the passenger side of the car. The windows were rolled up and dark, the tint was straddling the threshold of legal for New Mexico. There was still no sign of defect in the tires, he noticed as he was halfway around the passenger fender. Faulty tire gauge, he mused before he noticed the engine was rumbling almost inaudibly. Fucking hybrid, which meant whatever issue it had been definitely beyond the parts available at Sanders.

It was a little odd that the driver hadn’t stepped out to greet Michael, but not terribly unusual when it came to elderly customers who seemed to have a healthy paranoia about everyone they encountered. Still, Michael pasted a smile on his face and tapped on the window. 

The automatic window slipped downward in an expensive whisper, but it wasn’t a helpless old man on his way to church at the wheel. 

Jesse Manes smiled at Michael flashing his teeth, “Surprise.” Before Michael could do more than step backward, Jesse lifted a large gun-shaped object and fired. Yellow particulate matter exploded into the air, enveloping Michael completely. Pulling his arm to his mouth to attempt to block the pollen, did little good as he felt the sedating effects almost immediately.

He coughed into the open air, scrambling back toward his truck on weak legs as he tried to clear his lungs of the fast-acting poison. Behind him, he heard the car door open, and the crunch of boots on the loose gravel from the road’s shoulder as Jesse approached him. Though his powers were gone and his strength was waning fast, Michael had never backed down from a fight in life.

Certainly, not a fight for his life.

Swinging with all of his might, he hurled his heavy toolbox at Jesse blindly. There was a thump and a curse, but the footsteps kept coming. Animal-like terror set in as Michael crawled now on his knees toward the cab of his truck. He had to move, he had to live, he wasn’t going to die here on the side of the damn road- Suddenly a black boot came down on his hand, pinning him place and lighting up a fierce agony of pain in its wake.

“I like the fight, Guerin, I do,” Jesse remarked with a quiet menace. “Shall I make this hand match your other-” 

It was on the tip of Michael’s tongue to point out the obvious, but then Jesse saw it for himself. His left hand, healed and pristine, clutching at the hot blacktop surface. 

“I see.” He barked out a laugh that chilled Michael. “I knew it. I knew you weren’t the only one in Roswell. I thought about killing you right here you know, but now, you might finally serve a purpose in your useless life. You thought you could use my son in your perverted schemes? Well now it’s your turn to be bait.” 

Michael’s vision was already fading into blindness with the pollen taking hold, but he managed to spit out between numb lips, “Go fuck yourself.”

“Not today. You’re the one who is fucked.” A hand grabbed a tight hold of Michael’s hair, wrenching him backward, and then it was merciful darkness. 

*** 

[but-i-feel-fine]

I BELIEVE UNIVERSAL MAKING IS A HORRIBLE IDEA

here is why

Math. I’m going to explain why universal masking is a horrible idea with math.

The problem of universal masking has been so clear to me that I haven’t engaged the debate with any presence. The arguments fly back and forth with equal parts passion and incredulity. “How can you think that, you monster” is the conclusion of any “dialogue”. Let’s face it, there is not much dialogue happening on this planet right now in any arena.

So that’s it! I’m stepping it! I’m going to put this to rest once and for all and I am sure my massive following and millions of readers will usher in a new age of sound reason.

Math.

First a couple of points to clarify mask use before I astound you with the most obvious of equations.

Masks do work, at some things. But not all masks work equally at all things. Dr. Fauci the magnanimous just stated what matters is wearing a mask, any mask. This type of ridiculous logic is why I am spending time earmarked for Riverdale to write this post. This statement is, in a word, stupid. It is meant to give the panicked public a sense of control, but it also creates a religious cast of acolytes, and by nature of the apparent consequences, self appointed inquisitors. It’s garbage science to be sure, but it is even worse leadership. Even the once holy Michael Osterholm stated that cloth masks are ineffective (August 3, 2021). And they mostly are ineffective for anything positive besides a fashion statement. (I don’t take blind adherence to be positive). So let’s just take these ridiculous and useless items out of our discussion. They are not for the serious inquirer.

What about the surgical masks? Medical personal wear them! Surely, they do this for a very good reason. Why do they wear masks in the operating room?

This line of thought is again, so obvious to me I believed it would have been discussed ages ago. These masks are effective for droplets. Period. And why are droplets important in sterile environments? Well it’s the word sterile. Bacteria people. Nurses generally wear the masks to stop blood or puss or any manner of ungodly particulate flying in their nose and mouth. It is a thin veil of self protection and I have nothing but respect of those that put themselves in the presence of bacterial harm with just the simplest of PPE. In the operating room surgical staff wear those masks for the same purpose. Bacteria. First to stop a spurting vein or a pustule explosion from entering their orifices. Also to stop droplets from going from their mouths into an open wound. The human mouth has almost as much bacteria as a dog’s butt. Stopping a bit of spittle entering the human envelop is a rather important thing to do. These masks are quite effective at this. Droplets are of a size that surgical masks will stop them from travelling into the wound. Note that these are droplets not aerosolized particles.No serious medical person will say that the masks stop viruses. Not one. (Seems that there are many who are no longer serious. Or maybe they are so serious they have lost their minds.)

Viruses are too small to be stopped by these materials. You may argue that the viral particlescan be diverted by the pressure of the mask to escape to the sides of the face and therefore lessen the potential viral load hitting the open wound before the surgeon. But that would be silly. Any aerosolized virus would hang in the air and settle on everything in the room. These masks don’t stop viruses. Says it right on the box just in case the surgeon forgot their first year of medical school. The only solution to stop a surgeon from giving his virus to a patient is that the surgeon call in sick when feeling unwell. If these masks don’t stop viruses in a controlled sterile environment, they won’t do anything in the wider world either. But what about N95 masks? Let’s talk about them and then explain the real reason universal masks are a terrible idea.

There is a case for N95 masks. They appear to be effective in stopping viral particles to a degree. That amount has not been well tested, but I am going to give the mask brigade the benefit of the doubt on this one. An N95 mask that is properly fitted to the face and left alone during its wear may have an effect. (For the purposes of this post I will say it will have an effect because the reason universal masking is a bad idea has nothing to do with effectiveness). Now please note that the mask must be properly fitted. Buying them in bulk from your local shop won’t do. You need a proper PPE fitting and once you put that sucker on you cannot touch it. No drinks. Sorry. No smokes outside on your break. No food. None of that unless you are willing to discard the mask and get a new one. Remember we are wearing these things to protect everyone else from us as the wearer. So, the protocols for use are far more stringent. You must never break the seal of the mask when in use. Ever.

I will grant for the purposes of this exercise that N95 masks are effective if properly fitted and worn properly without tampering. And that leads me to the absolutely obvious reason they are a terrible idea.

Math.

We don’t discriminate right? Everyone should be treated equally, right? Every man woman and child have the right to health, right? And more importantly, according to our health overlords every man woman and child is a breeding ground for viral death. Therefore, every last one of us on the planet MUST wear a N95 mask. Every one of us. No exceptions. And every one of us must wear these masks properly. And these masks must be changed whenever contaminated. Period. That’s the science folks. So we need 7.6 billion masks a day to fully cover the planet. But let’s assume that some of the people need more than one because they have active jobs. It is only logical. 10 billion masks a day sounds like a nice round number. That’s what we need. 10 billion. The cost will be rather large. Even if we get the crappiest Chinese knock off company to make them for 50 cents a mask (quality I’m sure), that is still 5 billion dollars a day spent on masks. That will cost One trillion eight hundred and twenty-five billion dollars a year. A small price to pay to save a couple of lives right! I mean we can’t feed the hundreds of millions of people starving to death right now but let’s get them all a mask. Worth it! Logistically this may be a challenge. We will have to fully occupy the global supply chain to deliver masks every day to spec so let’s wave goodbye to all other imports. That probably includes food but if we all have masks at least we won’t die of a virus. And don’t worry about the environmental impact. We banned plastic straws, so I’m certain the massive increase in biohazardous materials made of…. Drum roll… petroleum won’t be an issue. Oh ya, didn’t you know that these masks are made with a large amount of petroleum products? Don’t worry the planet understands. The dinosaurs died and decomposed so we can discover the glory of… universal masking.

Folks, it’s not a bad idea. It is a ludicrous laughable idea that is blocking the path to real solutions. Do the math. Mask people in high impact places where the protocols can be followed. And move on.

Math.

A.F.

[ferociousqueak]

Daffodil or Iris for Dess, pretty please?

So, this one is Iris, though I do plan to do one for Daffodil too. But I’ve thought a lot about how the Vallum Blast would affect Dess, being from Vallum herself. Thank you for the prompt and enjoy :D

You can also read it on AO3!

valor: (n) strength of mind or spirit that enables a person to encounter danger with firmness: personal bravery

***

News of the Vallum Blast was on a constant loop on every station. Everywhere she looked, Dess found another reminder, another devastating image that left her cold and nauseated.

She hadn’t been home since . . . well, home was too strong a word, but Vallum had been her family’s hearth since the city’s founding, long before even the Unification War. She could’ve had her arm amputated and it would hurt less than seeing a crater of rubble and ruin in the place where she grew up, the place where her family . . .

Within hours of the news, Executor Chellick issued carte blanche leave to anyone in C-Sec with ties to Taetrus. To grieve. To search for loved ones. To fight.

A transport carrying volunteers would leave in two hours. With priority traffic clearance and a relay already on the edge of the Mactare system, Dess could be there inside a day.

“You’re going?” Han asked. Anyone else might’ve missed the strained note of panic kept in check in her voice, but for Dess it rang like an alarm bell.

Grabbing an old footlocker—dusty from disuse, kept all these years from nostalgia rather than out of some expected need—from the hall closet was a convenient excuse for Dess to avoid looking at Han. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t,” Han said, her voice hardening from panic to defiance. “The Hierarchy has plenty of soldiers they can throw into that meat grinder. You don’t have to be one of them.”

Dess moved into the bedroom and started gathering her clothes to fold compactly into her bag. A couple decades might have passed since she’d served, but old habits died hard. “It’s not like that,” she said. “As a volunteer, I’ll be behind the frontline most of the time and—”

“What frontline, Odessus!” Han wasn’t one to raise her voice, and the sound of it made Dess grow still. “They flew a goddamn spaceship at the whole fucking planet!”

“I know.” Dess’s heart pounded hard against her chest, but she kept her eyes on the task in front of her.

“People were already dead before the fucking thing even made impact!”

“I know.” Dad . . . Mom . . . Hadrian?

“They can do it again, and you wouldn’t even—”

“I know, Hannah!” Dess snapped, a high keen threatening in her throat. Finally, she turned her full attention on Han, anger and grief tearing at her voice. “I know they can do it again. Right now, it’s my family who’s gone, and tomorrow it could be someone else’s. I can’t just do nothing and let that happen. Again.”

“And if you go, I’ll lose my family!” Tears streamed from Han’s eyes, but she still held onto her defiance. “I can’t do that again. Not after Alli. Not you. I can’t—”

All the anger went out of Dess, and she reached for Han, pulling her close until Dess could press her brow to Han’s. “You’re not going to lose me. I promise. But I need to do this. My family, my parents, everyone, they’re—”

Her voice finally broke and her shoulders trembled under the weight of her grief. She could feel Han sob, something she hoped she’d never have to feel again after the news of . . . of Alchera had reached them.

Han put her arms around Dess. “I know,” she said, her voice watery. “But I’m going to hold you to that promise. If you die over there, I’ll kill you.”

Dess huffed a short laugh. Her subvocals vibrated all on their own, even without her prompting. I love you, too.

#

The impact crater—centered on where the Radiatum, the main parliamentary building, had stood—was five kilometers in diameter, but the devastation rippled so much farther. Evidence of the destruction saturated the landscape.

Turians of all ages were wrapped in bloodied gauze and hooked to IV cocktails to clot internal bleeding, fight infection, and replace fluids they’d lost—and they’d been the lucky ones on the outskirts of the city, hit by the shockwave rather than the blast itself.

The streets, or what was left of them, were lit by twisted, still-glowing metal rather than streetlamps.

What had been proud, tall buildings were now jagged, hollowed-out skeletons.

Vehicles lay on the street crumpled to a fraction of their original size.

A jaundiced, apocalyptic glow from the fallout hung over the city day and night.

The acrid malodor of burned flesh, drying blood, and still-living bodies turning sceptic was a constant companion, even with the protective equipment she lugged from one pile of rubble to the next.

Ash and wisps of curling smoke threatened to claw down her throat should she even consider removing her air filter.

She’d gotten straight to work when she arrived. From the moment her boots hit the tarmac of the landing pad, she’d had her assignment and her chain of command. Search and rescue. Lieutenant Araxus. Bunk 347, shift 2.

There’d been only enough time to kick her footlocker into place before she joined a squad of six to take on their section of the grid. After nine hours, they’d cleared two square kilometers and not a single living body. She’d had enough energy to wait for her bunkmate to rouse and vacate the cot before falling down, every muscle and tendon finally failing her.

As her eyes closed and she tried to ignore the instinct to reach for a soft, warm body beside her, the day’s work floated into her mind like sewage water from a blocked pipe. The unrecognizable bodies. The pieces of bodies. The places where bodies had clearly been but nothing salvageable remained. They’d taken genetic samples where they could—she wondered just how many people were too obliterated even for that—so their families could have some closure and might find rest in knowing what happened.

Ravaka didn’t.

#

After a week, the search and rescue operations were reclassified as search and recovery. If there had been any survivors, the chances of them still being alive were vanishingly slim. While a part of Ravaka was gutted to think there was no one left to help, another part of her whispered relief.

No more hope meant more no more disappointment.

No more ticking clock meant no more exhausting pace.

No more lives to save meant no more families to fail.

Finally free to turn off her emotions altogether, Ravaka spent her days picking through rubble, documenting the bodies she found in quiet numbness. She knew it would need to be addressed eventually, but for the moment at least, the levees holding back her own grief and trauma were tall and strong and doubly reinforced.

#

“You must have some kind of leave, right?” Dess could hear the strain in Han’s voice, however much she was clearly trying to suppress it. “You’re a volunteer, they can’t keep you forever.”

Dess scratched her mandible, considering how to respond. “I . . . don’t think we have the same understanding of volunteering. My job here isn’t done yet.”

Han let out a long sigh, cut short by an audible swallow and small hitch in her voice. “I know. I just worry. I miss you.”

When they disconnected, she lay back and scrubbed her hands over her face. Somewhere in the barracks, someone was taken by a coughing fit. Dess wondered idly how she would hide it from Han during their calls when she eventually began coughing too. It wasn’t an unexpected risk working in a disaster zone like this one. Even with the air filters and the decontamination chambers at the entrance of the prefab barracks, the particulates in the air were very fine and tenacious. Things would get worse for everyone for some time before they got better for anyone.

She closed her eyes, hoping to get some rest, possibly some shallow sleep before she would have to relinquish her bunk to one of its other occupants. Her mind had only begun to drift when a sudden uproar outside snapped her back to attention.

As others rose from their bunks around her, she knew she hadn’t imagined it. The sound swelled when someone opened the door to the outside. Grabbing her mask, Ravaka hurried toward the commotion.

The crowd seemed to swarm toward the camp’s medical center. As the sound turned to cheers, Ravaka’s heart thumped hard against her chest. Was it . . .

Her wrist buzzed with a priority message. A low orange glow lit the crowd around her as others checked the same alert.

BREAKING: Survivor of Vallum Blast recovered after 10 days beneath the rubble. This is a developing story. Check back for more details later.

A grainy, low-quality video showed a crew of turian volunteers in a chain pulling a juvenile, who couldn’t have been more than eight years old, from the debris field and placing her on the ground to check her vitals before transferring her to a gurney. She was clearly emaciated—her plates, still soft with youth, hung loose against her hide, her remaining down was matted and gray, and she didn’t have the strength to hold her mandibles against her jaws—but she was alive and responsive.

Despite the swirling ash and smoke, despite the air filled with death and despair, Dess felt herself breathe easy for the first time since she’d heard the news of the blast.

Things might still get worse, but they’d found someone. Alive. There was hope.

[inkstaineddove]

Little Games We Play

Ships: PruHun

Characters: Prussia, Austria, Hungary; mentioned France

Summary: For the creation of his kingdom, Prussia was forced to ally with Austria in the War of the Spanish Succession. Taking advantage of this indebtedness, Roderich demands Gilbert's cooperation on a task he'd find morally reprehensible. To live with himself, he must find a way of sabotaging Roderich's plans and get away with it.

Vienna, 1703.    

Hesitantly, Prussia entered the study. While he had been in this room many a time before, its size had yet to cease to amaze him. The length of it could fit two rooms in his new home in Berlin and the entirety of his home in Königsberg. Statues and busts made of marble and gold stared him down, judging his relative poverty to the opulence surrounding them. He did his best to ignore them, scanning the room for its owner. The sooner he could be free of it, the better.

“Ah, Prussia! I hope I hadn’t left you waiting too long!” Austria strode in, appearing out of an adjoining room Prussia hadn’t noticed. He waved towards the sofas in the center of the room as he walked to a little bar stand beside them. “Please, have a seat. Care for a glass of brandy?”

Complying, Prussia took his seat, shifting around nervously. The damn thing was much too plush and with too many embellishments for it to ever be comfortable. Like all things in this palace, it was designed for looks over practicality. “Far be it from me to turn down a glass of anything,” he smiled, trying to relax himself. As soon as the drink was in his hands, he quickly began whittling it away.

“I do appreciate that you were so willing to help me with this endeavor. While I’m not minimizing the fighting on the Rhine, I felt it far more appropriate to utilize your experience in this area than Brandenburg’s assistance, which would turn this into a ‘blind leading the blind’ campaign.” Austria sipped his brandy and chuckled. “And, well, that shiny new kingdom of yours did leave you indebted to me.”

“Mm, that is one way of looking at things,” Prussia grumbled, his lips pursed together. If this was how their conversation would be going, he would be needing much more to drink.

They sat in tense silence for a couple moments, each appraising the other. What relationship they had before had recently grown rocky with a shared amount of personal enmity and jealousy. Any interactions they now had became a dance to see who would move first, who would deliver the most cutting of remarks with the most insincere smile. Now, the political situation required some effort to get along, even if it only amounted to a minor detente.

Roderich cleared his throat, regaining control of the situation. “As much as it pains me to admit this, I’ve been put in a humiliating enough position to where I unfortunately need your cooperation. While I would prefer to be going around you and dealing with Georg only, I’m cursed with you being the one with any familiarity with Hungarians.” Realizing how his words could be interpreted, he shot Gilbert an icy look. “Refrain from any crass insinuation. I know how your mind works.”

Gilbert held his hands up in defense. “Don’t give me that look! I wasn’t going to insinuate anything until you mentioned it!” He sighed, relieved that all pretensions of friendliness and civility could be dropped. “How do you think I feel? You really believe I’d want anything to do with you in this? If it weren’t for my debt, as you so kindly pointed out, I’d be watching this from the sidelines rooting her on. This goes against all three of my principles.”

“You have those? Color me impressed. An old hold over from your monastery days I assume.” Roderich touched a hand to his chest, feigning surprise. “My apologies, that seemed to slip out. How it warms my heart to know that, under normal circumstances, you would be right alongside the traitors. Surely this won’t backfire on me.” He rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. “I understand that a mercenary will always remain a mercenary, but is it too difficult to even pretend to side with me on one issue? If you’re going to keep your people in line, you better get used to defending the right of any established monarch to do what’s necessary to stay in power – regardless of your own satisfaction at seeing whomever it is fall.”

Prussia waved a hand flippantly. “Hypocrite. You’d be singing a different tune if the shoe were on France’s foot.” He smiled, exposing his teeth like a shark. “But fine, I can humor you. How I pray each night for peace to be restored to your lands and the health of the emperor, long may he live! And down with those Hungarians, may I slay one with my sword!” He knocked back the rest of the drink. When he saw the sheer contempt on Austria’s face, he chortled. “Don’t like what you asked for? I’m giving you enthusiasm.”

Austria sneered. “You know exactly what I meant and that definitely wasn’t it. If you could learn to hold your tongue, more people would find your presence tolerable nor would they think you a man so far removed from civility that he’s better matched with the animals. But cheers.” He finished off the rest of his glass before refilling their cups. He shook his head. “Enough of this chitchat, the only reason you’re here is to fulfill a purpose. In five days, we will head out. There should be some information in Budapest, I’m sure you’ll be able to scrounge it out. If I head anywhere near their areas, it’s as if they can tell who I am, and I receive incredibly hostile responses. Of course, if one of them trusts you that doesn’t make for an entirety of the population, but if she happens to be their collective wills and stubbornness, I assume that means you will have an easier time tracking her down than me.” He held up a finger, remembering something. “And you’re the only one of us I know who speaks the language. Oddly enough, they don’t appreciate repeated questioning in German.”

“No surprise. I can tell you from crusading that most people outside of all our lands find it off putting.” Prussia folded his arms over his chest and leaned away from him. “You want me to play spy? This was already a cowardly enough thing to ask of me, but I’m amazed that you’re making it worse by forcing me to operate in the dark. And I’m sure my involvement will be information you won’t keep private?” At Austria’s little smirk and shrug, he scoffed. “Despicable. You couldn’t care to make this easier on me? What good does getting revenge on the both of us serve?”

“Who do you take me for? I’m a man of honor. I knew this wouldn’t be something you’d accept readily; a little persuasion is in order.” Austria opened a small chest on the table before them. Inside was a satin bag, pregnant with a stack of coins.

Gilbert picked it up and dumped some of the contents in his hand. It appeared to be a not insignificant amount of gold. He shook his head with disgust. “Caiaphas offers his blood money? Be careful, Roderich, you might be showing yourself too soon.”

“I assure you that this time Judas need not kill himself. Though, I do beg you to betray her with a kiss. That’s too important of a detail to miss out.” Roderich smiled smugly, proud of his position. “Protest all you want, but we both know you’re going to accept. You knights are all the same, all pretenses of chivalry forgotten with a little amount of coin. Honor always yields to self-interest. And, to sweeten the deal, there’s more if you’re successful or turn up any useful leads. If it makes it that much easier, fine. Have this adventure be our little secret until a more beneficial time. I do live with her; if your brand of comfort will prevent me from waking up to a slit throat, then who am I to stop you?”

Gilbert gazed at the bag. Sighing, he shoved it into his jacket pocket. “If you swear to keep this between us then you have my cooperation.”

Austria smiled like a snake. “Thank you for being reasonable. You have my word that this will remain hidden from her.” He flicked his wrist away. “Now shoo. I’ll see you in the morning and we can discuss the details of my plan.”

---

 Budapest.

Austria stood, hunched over a map. “Do you know where her home is? It shouldn’t be that far from where we are.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I do! I could enter the city blind and still find my way. I doubt the layout has changed that much.” Prussia rolled his eyes in disbelief. How could that have even been a question? “I’m heading out. Remember to give me time. If we get lucky and she happens to be there, it does us both better if I can persuade her to play along. You charging in would absolutely ruin all my work.”

Austria nodded. “You have my word; I’ll give you all the time you need as long as you prove useful. Now, run along. I’d prefer you to finish sooner rather than later.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes and began strolling into the city. He straightened his back and affixed a purposeful expression on his face. If he appeared to be a man on a mission, one with important matters at hand, then no one would consider him out of place. He nodded his head at a group of gossiping old ladies on the street, trying to determine whether what they were discussing had any value. They only spoke of the daily dramas of their families, the personal nature of them overblowing their meaning to each. Nothing of significance.

Her house had hardly changed. Which, when Gilbert stopped to think, why would it? When was the last time she had been home for any substantial length of time? It was more impressive that it hadn’t fallen into complete disarray, though he supposed she had someone take care of it on her behalf.

At the front door, he made a show of checking his pockets for keys and of frustration at being unable to find them. He took out the loose brick beneath the windowsill. There they were, as they always had been, the spare key she kept hidden. He shook his head in disapproval as he entered. “She really should move them. Any stray could walk in and take everything.”

Feeling particularly charitable, he tore a bit of scrap paper from one of the old messages sitting on a kitchen counter. Humming to himself, he began scratching out a cheeky note teasing her for her lack of foresight. He felt the air around him grow tense and slowly turned around. He was met with the tip of a sword centimeters from his face. “You know, under different circumstances this would be quite the turn on.”

Hungary narrowed her eyes into a glare. “Don’t try to be cute. We both know why you’re here. The fact that he sent the dog after me first doesn’t bode well.” She pushed the sword closer, pressing him into the counter. “You understand. If I have to cut you down to protect myself, then so be it.”

“I understand, but do you really have to call me a dog to my face? I hear that enough as it is, I don’t need it from you too.” Gilbert smiled, slowly moving the tip away from his face. “The fact that you think so low of me is painful, Erzsi. I wouldn’t be so unbothered if I were here to help anyone else but you. You know me and where my real loyalties lie. I have more honor than that.”

Her expression softened and she lowered the sword. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I should know better.” She took a step closer and inched up on her toes, all pretenses of hostility gone. His guard dropped, he leaned in and smirked feeling her hand fish around in the pocket of his breeches. Erzsébet jumped away, sword extended in one hand while tossing the bag of coins up in the other. “Ah, so this is how much I’m worth to you? You’re right, I do know you. That’s why I know a mercenary masquerading as a knight would never turn down even a measly amount of money – which this really is. You’re selling me out for much too little.”

“If you gave me a chance, there’s actually a really good explanation for that.” He paused, waiting for her to interrupt. Smiling, he continued on, “You know how highly Roderich thinks of me. He figured if he offered me a little gold now and a lot later, that would buy my cooperation. I planned on taking his money while sending him off in the opposite direction. I would never knowingly sic him onto you.”

While this relaxed her considerably, she wasn’t fully convinced. “Then why come here first if you had no malintent?”

Gilbert shrugged. “Where else could I go? I’d rather sit around here and create evidence to give him for a few hours than wander around aimlessly.”

She set the sword down, laying it on the counter. “How do you plan on tricking him? It better be a brilliant plan. He’s incredibly adept at knowing when he’s being played for a fool. Anything less and you’ll be found out immediately and I won’t have enough time to flee to where I’m needed.”

“Don’t worry, I had it all figured out! I was going to throw a dart at a map and forge a letter that you intended to send me telling me where you were heading. What? Stop laughing! He would fall for it without question!”

Erzsébet shook her head, a relieved smile stretching across her lips. “No, he wouldn’t. I think that might be one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had. It’s a miracle I decided to stay the extra day. No, if we want this to work, we’ll have to do things my way. Follow me.” She led them into her study, taking a seat at her desk.

Over her shoulder, he watched her write out a letter in her neat script. His brows furrowed together, seeing who it was addressed to. “Who’s this Ferenc guy?” He leaned down, getting a better look at what was written and frowned. “And do you need to sound so friendly? It’s not a real letter.”

“He’s winning our independence. This would be a juicy letter for you to find, sure to promise all sorts of information Austria will be desperate to know.” She bit her lip to withhold a laugh. “The point is to make this sound authentic. If I weren’t warm in it, he would know something was off. There’s no reason to be so jealous.”

Gilbert huffed and walked away from her, his arms crossed. “I’m not jealous.” Upon hearing how unconvincing he was, he scowled at the wall. “It was just an observation. There’s no reason to read into it more.” Protecting himself from causing anymore damage to his ego, he sulked in silence on the opposite end of the room.

“There. If this doesn’t satisfy him then we never stood a chance.” Erzsébet rose and slipped the letter into his hand. Taking him and the situation in, she grinned. “I don’t think you’ll ever know how much this means to me.”

He tucked it securely in the liner pocket of his jacket, giving it an affectionate pat. “I think I have some idea. I may not be able to be out on the battlefield with you, but I’m always besides you at heart.” He kissed her tenderly on the lips. “I don’t want to keep him waiting any longer and risk him getting him impatient. You’d be smart to get on the move as well. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

She softly clicked her tongue and caressed his jawline with her thumb. “There’s nothing for you to be worried about.”

“Which is exactly why I’m worried. If you can, find a way to send me word that you’re safe.” He kissed her again and, when they parted, winked. “Give those bastards hell.”

…

Gilbert lounged around lazily in his tent. His return to camp had been uneventful. The letter had been in Roderich’s possession for a couple of hours now and still no reaction. This lack of acknowledgement troubled him. Could he see right through their plot? Was the game over? These were things he didn’t want floating about in his mind. He had attempted to read to take his mind off things but found all he could do was stare blankly at the page.

A hand mysteriously appeared on his shoulder. “Read anything good lately?” When he swung the book back to hit the intruder, he felt a surprising amount of resistance. There was a begrudging respect for their block. “That’s not exactly the warm welcome I was expecting.”

Gilbert jumped up, his breathing ragged. “Erzsi, are you insane? Are you trying to get yourself captured? After all the time I’m buying you, you’re going to waste it being this reckle-”

Erzsébet covered his mouth with her hand. She glanced at the entrance, making sure no one had heard. “If you keep ranting and raving like that, I certainly will be! Keep your voice down, I’ve got a good reason for being here. Can you do that?” Only when he nodded his head in the affirmative did she release him. “I was leaving, but then I saw this little camp and knew exactly who it belonged to. I need to know how many men he brought, which thankfully aren’t much, and whether he fell for the letter. Whether or not he’s figured me out will determine what I do next.”

How he loathed that she truly had a good reason for this. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly. “I’m waiting to find that out myself. I haven’t heard a word from the prick after I handed it over to one of his lackeys. I’ve been trying not to go insane in here ever since I returned.”

“Gilbert! May I enter?” Roderich’s voice called from outside.

“For fuck’s sake. Quick! Hide!” Gilbert hissed, nudging her away. “Just a moment! I’m ah…undressed!” Once Erzsébet had disappeared underneath the bedframe, he made a quick sign of the cross. “You can come in now.”

Austria entered the tent, completely unaware of the chaos around him. He took a seat at the table in the center of the room. “I have to say, I’m impressed at how quick you were. You made it sound like you would be there till nightfall. Did you honestly not have to ask around? The letter was, what? Stored away somewhere in her desk?”

“I’m as surprised as you are. It was stuffed away in some drawer, as if she couldn’t be bothered to care if it were found. She seems to be quite fond of flaunting her insubordination in places where you’re certain to check.” At his glare, Prussia smirked. “You can make that face all you want, but we both know it’s the truth. She’s overconfident and it’s making her careless. When dealing with an opponent of that sort, I would recommend waiting until their own negligence causes their defeat. There’s no reason to go on a path of destruction right now.”

“Give it a rest. Of course, that would be your proscription. And one that’ll surely cause her to win that ‘sovereignty’ she so clamors for and turn me into the biggest jackass on the continent.” Austria rolled his eyes. “I cannot afford to wait any longer and have her position further bolstered by France. If this were simply one of the regular tantrums her people so often throw then I would do exactly that. The situation is too volatile to not react. Speaking of which,” he handed the letter to Prussia, “read this to me. About the only thing I could make out was her name.”

Prussia scanned the letter, mentally translating it as quick as he could. “A lot it is just meaningless pleasantries. The only real substance to it is that she will be in Pécs in a week to receive supplies they expected from France.”

“Pécs? What an odd choice. Are you sure this letter is in her own hand?” Austria took the letter back and began examining it for any inconsistencies. “Surely you must have a letter from her with you. Don’t try to argue. I’d be more shocked if you didn’t.”

“There is one in particular I like to keep on me, but…” Gilbert hesitated in his warning. Wouldn’t it be much sweeter to see the guttural reaction? He retrieved it from his pocket and passed it over. “I know my word will never be good enough, but here. You’ll see it’s a perfect match.”

Roderich unfolded it and compared. “Ah, much better. How refreshing to see a familiar language instead of one that’s completely indecipherable.” After noticing a particular word, he became focused on the personal letter. He blinked rapidly in surprise. “Perhaps it would have been better if this were in Hungarian instead. Quite the picture this paints and, yet, I can’t avert my eyes.” He put his empty hand over his mouth and his cheeks pinkened. “That’s filthy! How did she…how did you! My God, I can see why this is the letter you carry around. Such a…unique use of language.” Once at the end, he quickly shoved it back into Gilbert’s hands.

Gilbert lovingly folded it back up and set it down on the table. He licked his lips, unable to wipe the smug smirk off his face. “Surely that answers all your questions.”

“Answers? Don’t be absurd! That creates far more questions than I’ve ever had before in my life! For starters, is what she describes even possible? And, if it is within the realm of what is capable, would it even be pleasurable? She’s absolutely right! If either of you were able to walk afterwards that would certainly be a travesty to all that was…you mean about the handwriting?” Roderich cleared his throat, now unable to take the pressure of Gilbert’s stare. “Yes, I’m sufficiently satisfied that the one you found isn’t a forgery. Though, I do wonder if either of your appetites could ever experience the same and why can’t I think about anything else? I shall never look at either of you the same.”

Before Gilbert could offer anything in response, a poorly muffled snort was heard from under the bed. The two men shared a look. “Gilbert, are you hiding someone beneath your bed?” Roderich’s tone was befuddled rather than accusatory.

The icy fingers of fear gripped Gilbert’s heart. He opened his mouth but couldn’t force any words to come out. Panic settled in and he accepted the inevitably of the havoc that would be unleashed. Rather than strike a defiant pose, he averted his eyes to the floor. He would not witness the implosion he would be party to.

“Really? Is it that difficult to be here by yourself that you’ve resorted to filling your bed with some whore? My God have a bit more dignity. I can’t believe that I must be the one to reassure you of this, but you will see her again. A cheap thrill does nothing to heal a broken heart.”

Gilbert was unable to process that a crisis was being averted. He cocked his head lamely to the side, brows knitted in confusion. “You’re not going to scream at me?”

“Why would I? I’m not your father. I don’t care who you’re copulating with, barring the obvious exception, but I believe you could do better than this. There is absolutely no reason beyond your own desperation and wretchedness to pay a whore to warm your bed.”  He shrugged, completely unbothered by what was occurring. “Regardless, I’m sure the clock is ticking, and I don’t want you to pay more than what is necessary. Goodnight, enjoy yourselves, and please don’t wake me up.”

Once he had left, Erzsébet crawled out from underneath. As soon as she got a good look at Gilbert, she couldn’t stop snickering. “Do you seriously carry that letter around with you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I can’t help getting lonely sometimes.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “What I really want to know is how much for the hour?”

“Oh, so now I can afford to waste an hour? How quickly your tune changes when you would be the beneficiary.” She rolled her eyes at his hypocrisy, smirking. “If I wait any longer, it’ll be too late when I arrive at my first stop. I can’t lose any more time.”

He sighed, understanding. Looking at her in his arms, a sudden onslaught of worry plagued him. “Be safe, please, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Erzsébet scoffed in mock outrage. “Why would I do that? I want to win, don’t I?” She smiled up at him and rested a relaxed hand on his chest. “There’s no need to fret. Whatever happens, I always turn out just fine. Take care of yourself. I’ll see you when I can.”

Gilbert kissed her, his heart yearning with indescribable feeling. As she walked away, a sentiment took sudden hold. “Erzsi, I-!” He called out to her. She turned back, puzzlement written plainly across her face. He exhaled slowly, releasing the foreign emotion like stored tension. “I’ll be thinking of you each day.” He didn’t offer then that that’s what he always did.

She smiled softly at him, tenderness claiming her own heart. She blew a kiss and crept out, disappearing as seamlessly as she appeared. He stood there, long after she left, with something like overburdened dread sinking into his stomach.

[firstpersongamegeorgewhite]

Particle systems

I wanted to use a lot of particle systems in my game. for each particle system I wanted I had to create a Niagara system and then chose from a few presets.

For the snow effect in the first level and the dust/rubble effect in the second level I chose the hanging particulates preset. For the smoke like particles I chose the fountain preset and for the blood effect I chose the fountain effect. I could then change all the settings for the particles.

Spawn rate changes how many particles spawn per second and this is kept high for the snow and rubble effects as they are meant to be constant.

I can use change some noise settings for the particles. Increasing noise strength makes the particles move around more so I had this relatively high for the snow and rubble but lower for the blood and colored smoke effects.

I can use a graph to change the size of the sprite particle over the duration of the particle effect on the scale sprite size section. I’ve set effects like the blood explosion to start high and then get smaller over the duration of the effect while things like the snow and smoke will stay relatively constant in size.

I can also change the particle itself by changing the sprite renderer. By default this is a small white circle which I can change the color of but I found out that changing it to a material gives the particles a square shape which I think much better matches the style of my game.

[lisarichardsonbylines]

Closing the Gap

THE PROBLEM SOLVERS

» UNICEF: CLOSING THE GAP

UNICEFCLOSING THE GAP

Arc'teryx lends their understanding of insulation and extreme conditions to a global collaborative effort in Mongolia.

Words By: Lisa Richardson

Closing the Gap

Inspired by problem-solvers in our midst and beyond, Arc’teryx designers accept an invitation from UNICEF’s Office of Innovation to head to Mongolia, to the coldest capital city in the world, to lend their understanding of insulation and extreme conditions to a global collaborative effort to make the ger, a type of shelter utilized by half a million urban residents, more thermally efficient. The problem: tackling the child health crisis caused by coal-fired air pollution from a terrific number of heat-leaking gers. The solution? Close the gaps that let good ideas fall by the wayside and let the cold air in.

Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, the coldest capital city in the world is powered entirely by coal, which means it is now, despite only having a population of 1.5 million people, also the most polluted capital city in the world.

It was just an email, like any other email that comes into the machine shop at Arc’teryx where the tinkering team of Pat, Bill and Chris wizard up solutions, customize tools and make whatever needs to be made for Arc’teryx designers to do their work. Pat Fitzsimmons happened to be sitting in the “Open Emails” chair that day when he fielded a request from senior design developer Nathalie Marchand to help make a door.

The Land of the Blue Sky shifts to charcoal grey at the onset of winter when coal-fired stoves begin to churn out fine particulate matter in toxic quantities.

Fitzsimmons is a hands-on problem-solver. You need a door? He’ll run down to RONA, pick up a door, cut it in half, MacGyver it to the specs you need. And that’s what he thought he was saying yes to when he added “door for Nathalie” to his action list that day. He had no idea he was about to step onto a global team tackling child health 8,186 km away in the most polluted capital city in the world.

Mid-winter in Ulaanbaatar, temperatures plunge to -40°C, and in response, the 1.5 million residents burn coal by the ton to keep warm.

The air in Ulaanbaatar was not always like this. But when Mongolia transitioned from Soviet control to a free market democracy in 1990, massive waves of urban migration began, tripling the size of the city; 8,000 new households are still arriving each year. As the new population pitch their yurts, the traditional round felt tent dwelling the Mongolians call ger, haphazardly up and down the hillsides of the city’s outskirts, their collective cooking and heating with unrefined coal stoves ramps up the city’s air pollution to shocking levels.

Click and hold52% of the pollution in Ulaanbaatar is attributable to coal burning in the ger district.

The amount of carcinogenic fine particulate matter (PM2.5, meaning particulate matter with a diameter of 2.5 microns or less) has gone off-the-charts, and with it, acute respiratory infections (bronchitis, asthma, and pneumonia), preterm births, and spontaneous abortions. This 2.5 particulate matter in the air is small enough not only to enter the bloodstream but also cross the blood-brain barrier, and has reached concentration levels (millionths of a gram per cubic metre) more than 12 times higher than World Health Organization (WHO) standards.

In short: Breathing toxic air is damaging brain tissue and impairing cognitive development in babies and children. When it’s not killing them.

IN 2015, 435 CHILDREN UNDER THE AGE OF FIVE IN ULAANBAATAR DIED FROM PNEUMONIA.The mountains surrounding Ulaanbaatar's river valley trap smog like soup in a pan. By January, even the stars disappear.

In February 2018, UNICEF and the National Centre for Public Health sounded the alarm with a report, Mongolia’s Air Pollution Crisis: A Call to Action to Protect Children’s Health. Because, while everyone knew about the pollution, no one had connected the dots to child and maternal health. The issue of the day was suddenly a sleeping time-bomb – the hidden financial costs and lasting health and neurological impacts on children was going to cost Mongolia its future.

A morning prayer offered to the sky, across the sacred Tuul river from the city's power plants.

It’s a massive problem with no easy solution, and that’s just the kind of challenge that Tanya Accone rolls up her sleeves for.

“I’m an almost irrational optimist,” says Tanya Accone, Senior Advisor on Innovation for UNICEF’s Office of Innovation.

She has to be. Her role means confronting, daily, in detail, the world’s most intractable problems.

Trucks and vendors hawk coal from the four-lane main street to families in the ger district. Coal is available by the dump load or by the bag. No other source of heat is available.

The Office of Innovation is a recent branch of the 70 year United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) – an agile collaboration that applies start-up thinking and technology and leverages UNICEF’s deep web of connections and relationships on the ground in 243 countries to generate innovative and scalable solutions for children.

“We need to become disruptive and try things that are radically different,” says Accone, and in Mongolia, that meant trying to literally change the atmosphere.

While Ulaanbattar’s pollution has been attributed to the city’s 4 coal power plants, 3200 low pressure steam boilers, and 505,000 cars and buses, at least half is caused by the inefficient attempts of the continually growing number of households in the ger district to stay warm through the winter.

UNICEF’s plan was to task a global team of experts to “redesign” the ger to make it more thermally efficient – something they could roll out, not just in Ulaanbaatar, but across Mongolia and beyond, to Kazahkstan and Tajikistan - other places where urbanization and air pollution were spreading.

But first, Accone had to pull together a team of problem-solvers.

And that’s how Arc’teryx got a call from UNICEF Canada. “We are beginning a design project involving insulation in a hostile environment. We’re hoping you can help.”

Walls of lattice and felt echo a three thousand year old tradition of self-sufficiency and attunement with the land. How could the design be adapted for 21st century realities?

When Senior Design Developer Nathalie Marchand sat down in the room in Ulaanbaatar in March 2018, alongside colleague Romy Paterson, Material Developer, as the Arc’teryx dream team on the “21stCentury Ger” project, she was so intimidated she could hardly speak.

The global think-tank that the Office of Innovation had pulled together included genius-types from Stanford University, the architecture firm Kieran Timberlake, the Center for Environmental Building and Design at the University of Pennsylvania, GerHub and a host of UNICEF representatives.

Marchand went to fashion design school, before joining the circus at 21, where she worked for ten years as head of wardrobe for Canada’s legendary Cirque de Soleil. At Arc’teryx, she’s a guru. But when she walked into that gathering, she was a long way out of her comfort zone and completely without armour – no sewing machine, no track record, no PhD. “I felt extremely dumb,” says the tri-lingual Marchand. “They were all academics. I was super intimidated.”

She’d had three weeks to do the most basic youtube research before landing in Ulaanbaatar. “I have been camping in a tent before. That’s about as much as I knew about the ger.”

While tiny homes take North America by storm, Mongolians looking to get a toehold in an exploding city real estate market turn to dwelling of their nomadic ancestors, the light-weight and affordable ger.

Marchand’s don’t-know mind is her superpower, though. “My main strength in my job is just to ask the questions: what do you need, what you do want, what’s working, what’s not working. There were a lot of PhDs in that room who knew quite a bit. But what we thought we knew about Mongolia, and the real Mongolia, are quite different. We were sitting in a meeting talking about what is comfortable and suddenly we realized we have no idea what is comfortable in a ger. We think 20 degrees is a comfortable temperature inside in the winter. When I actually visited a ger, I could have been sitting in my bathing suit. It was so hot.”

As she asked questions, it became apparent that her and Paterson’s fabric knowledge wasn’t going to help. Gore-tex is not available or affordable to Mongolians. Felt is. It’s a perfectly adapted insulation for the conditions. As the think-tank members divided up the different aspects of the ger that might be re-engineered according to their expertise, the door remained.

“I went there knowing nothing and I left knowing only that I wanted to work on the project. I wanted to help people who might not have the resources we do. I had the chance to use my knowledge to change someone’s life.”

MARCHAND PUT HER HAND UP TO TAKE HOME THE DOOR.The data bank. Six test gers measure the effectiveness of a host of measures designed to retain heat.

There was no chance Canada Customs was going to let her ship a wood door home. So Marchand spent an extra week in Mongolia, using personal vacation time to journey out onto the steppe with a local guide, staying with families in their gers, playing cards, drinking vodka, and eating more dumplings than she hopes to ever again. She took dozens of photos of the gaps that formed between the doors and the sill plates, the gaps around the edges of the felt tent - all the leaky openings that formed with daily wear and tear that allow the bitterness of winter to finger its way in.

She needed to conceive a way to close the air gap. With the average salary in Mongolia at 966,000 tugruk, roughly $CAD520, it had to be cheap, easy to install, and easy to make.

Humility meets collaboration. Nathalie Marchand and Patrick Fitzsimmons prove the power of approaching a problem with a don't-know-mind and a great partner-in-crime.

Marchand had a flash of insight, remembering her five-year-old self visiting her grandmother in Quebec, where the winter temperatures hover around -20°C. She remembered the “snake” that her grandmother would kick along the door jamb, a long fabric tube filled with sand to block the draft.

After she returned to the Arc’teryx North Vancouver design headquarters, Pat Fitzsimmons answered her call for help, injecting something else to the project, something she hadn’t realized she needed: enthusiasm, a voice to counter the one in her head that said this solution is too simple; this problem is too big; this process is too unwieldy; how can you be sure that the Mongolians will accept this; who do you think you are?

To help, Nathalie Marchand had to first battle her own inner critic: who am I to offer help to Mongolia?

“When you work alone on a project and only have yourself to talk to, you get to a point where you feel like you’ve gone around so many times. When Pat came along, he went from 0 to 100 in a minute, he was so excited. It was amazing.”

Fitzsimmons reassured her that the simplicity of the snake was just right. Then he built her a door that she set between her cutting table and her sewing machine. Fitzsimmons didn’t think of it as a door. “It was a portal. You walk from 2019 into three thousand years ago, into this tiny enclave of beliefs, this building that reflects spiritually who the Mongolians are, as a people and as a nation.”

Marchand then also designed an insulated curtain, made from accordioned cardboard and covered with reflective fabric, that could be pulled across the door at night like a shower curtain, to add an extra layer of insulation.

“It had to be quiet, because everyone sleeps in the same room so if you wake up in middle of the night and have to go outside, you want it to be silent. You want to be able to use it with only one hand.” Every time she moved from her table to her sewing machine, she had to open the door and slide wide the curtain - testing the friction of operating it fifty times a day.

The refined specs of her door insulation package were emailed to UNICEF’s Mongolian office to be reproduced by a team from local materials. Eleven gers were going to be tested through the winter of 2018-19 – six uninhabited gers at a test site out of the city would be outfitted with all the different interventions, so each variable could be measured and monitored. Five family gers in the ger district would also be part of the testing.

On paper, it looked as if Marchand had solved the door insulation gap. Now someone just had to translate it into real life.

8,186 KILOMETRES AWAY IN ULAANBAATAR, IN OCTOBER, MUNKH-ORGIL (“MO”) LKHAGVA WENT LOOKING FOR A SEAMSTRESS.Arc'teryx could generate design solutions, but they had to translate on the ground.

An adaptable and personable 38 year old, Lkhagva had taught himself English from a good dictionary and had been hired by UNICEF’s local partner, Gerhub, to turn piles of drawings into the six test gers, ready for data-collecting to start in November.

It was an ambitious timeline, that didn’t exactly accommodate the realities of life - or the heinous traffic - in Mongolia. “I’ve never sewn anything in my life,” said Lkhagva. “I’m just able to understand English.” He posted ads on the Mongolian equivalent of craigslist, and visited a local sewing school, before the professor, a tiny fierce woman told him pointedly that none of her students would have the skills to do what he needed, but that she could probably help. He visited her tiny studio, a poorly ventilated room with peeling linoleum, bedecked with old fashion magazine cut-outs showcasing Soviet flair, an ancient sewing machine as the centrepiece. He showed her the drawings. She seemed to understand.

Naran Tuul, the Black Market in Ulaanbaatar, provides everything you need to build a ger.Testing the first prototype on the ground, only to discover that some things got lost in translation.

As far as Marchand could tell, it was working. “Mo was fantastic. He took pictures of everything that was available. If we said we needed a hook, next day he would go to their equivalent of Home Depot and take pictures of all the available hooks and say this is what’s out there.”

No one could know that the seamstress had got it wrong, until Marchand and Fitzsimmons arrived back in Ulaanbaatar in January for the second think-tank gathering and to check on the installation of their door insulation package. It seemed less an issue of the designs not having made sense to her, as that there was a Canadian at the other end of it. What could a Canadian possibly know about a Mongolian institution?

They gathered up the useless pieces and went looking for another sewing machine.

The air quality index read 963 parts per million (ppm) in January 2019. It had been 15 ppm in North Vancouver when Fitzsimmons left home. (Anything above 100 ppm is considered dangerous.) “Until you're standing in the middle of it,” Fitzsimmons said of the problem he’d just spent six months obsessing about, “you can’t understand how atrocious it is.”

He wanted to hate it. “Everywhere you go, it smells like burnt stuff. The smoke is terrible. There are so many problems. I wanted to be full of darkness towards the whole pollution thing -- you have to be angry to fix something. But my God! The country! The people! The beautiful sky!” He fell in rhapsodic love.

They’d come up with the best start they could conceive. All they needed now was a workshop to actually build their snakes and curtains. Happily, one of the think-tank invitees, an inventor, yurt-builder and Dutch emigrant, Froit Vanderharst took them under his wing. They ducked out of the formal sessions and raced to the open air market in Ulaanbaatar for supplies, time slipping away.

Sweating and exhilarated at having found such a like-minded fellow problem-solver. Stripped down to shirt sleeves despite sub-zero temperatures, they banged out prototypes, Marchand labouring over the sewing machine. They couldn’t wait for the prototypes to be installed, to show them to locals, hear what people thought.

"Everywhere you go, it smells like burnt stuff. I wanted to be full of darkness towards the pollution, but my God! The people!" Pat Fitzsimmons trades anger for love as his motivating force.

By early June 2019, the University of Pennsylvania had made headway with the thousands of data points they’d collected over the winter.

The comprehensive package of better insulation, including the door’s curtain and snake, resulted in a 55% reduction in energy consumption.

Tanya Accone, UNICEF Mongolia Deputy Representative Speciose Hakizimana and their team, were unequivocal about the results: “That is a game-changer.”

SUDDENLY, CLEAN AIR IS WITHIN GRASP.An air of optimism landed when the project team read the results. Clean air is within grasp.Adapting to massive issues requires a combination of technology, collaboration and respect for traditional ways.

“The magnitude of the problem and its impact on children and pregnant women is huge. But in combination with electric heating and cooking, the data suggests it should be possible to completely phase out the use of coal heating gers,” wrote Hakizimana on behalf of the UNICEF Mongolia team in late June, 2019. Expectations are as high as the stakes, and with more partners coming on board, including the Swiss government, the Dutch government, the Manitoba Council for International Cooperation, and the Mongolian University of Science and Technology, the pressure on everyone involved is immense. But there’s an air of optimism around the expanding office.

"A problem is only a problem if you see it as that. It could be a different pathway, a different route, an opportunity. It's only a problem if you let it be."

This winter, the project relocates to the second-most polluted city in Mongolia, Bayankhongor, 640km east of Ulaanbaatar, where the governor is extremely motivated to make a dent on air pollution in his urbanizing city, and is collaborating with UNICEF to meet a target of clean air by 2022. By rolling out energy-saving prototypes in many of the 7000 ger and brick houses (baishin) of this smaller city of just 9600 households, the team will be able to really prove their case of what works and what doesn’t.

Open the door to possibility. On the other side: history. And hope.

“We brought together industry experts in design, technology, outdoor, architecture, and academics,” reflected Hakizamana. “All the partners contributed immensely in building prototypes, data monitoring, and creating energy and structure solutions. We’re seeing the benefits of this great collaboration already. Now we will combine these with local knowledge and solutions, and help move households from coal to clean energy solutions.”

“Everywhere I look, here at Arc’teryx, I’m building on other people’s work,” mused Fitzsimmons. “We’ve had some incredible people through here that have done amazing things and I get to work with the results of their work, but I don’t know their names. Imagine if the legacy of this project is a population of people who are healthier, free of this thing they’re struggling with, with a real good shot at a fine future, and that comes about through something that my friend Nathalie and I had a part in creating? A chance to make a difference in history for all those people? Holy crap. It just doesn’t get better than that.”

https://arcteryx.com/us/en/explore/problem-solvers/unicef/

[youre-on-a-starship]

Prompt:  “Don’t let me die.” For @whatif-animagineblog‘s birthday challenge!

Word Count:  1,995

Author’s Note:  Happy birthday, darlin’! I hope you like it! I’m so sorry it was out a day late, it’s been in my drafts for like three days waiting for me to make a header.

Cryllic Key:  Боже - Bozhe - God, Да - Da - yes

“Pasha!”

You pressed your hands to either side of Pavel’s face, gently lifting his eyelids with the pads of your thumbs. His pupils constricted. The navigator groaned.

“Pasha! Come on, man, I know you’re in there.”

Moving your hands to his shoulders, you shook him.

“Y/N?” he moaned.

“Yeah, Pash, it’s me. Come on, wake up.”

“V… vhat…?” His eyelids fluttered open. “Vhat happened?”

“I don’t know,” you said, rubbing your hands up and down his arms as he came to.

He breathed deeply and crinkled his nose. The whole ship smelled like the inside of a locker. He looked around at the fallen bodies on the bridge.

“Vhat…”

“Something’s very wrong. I need your help, okay?”

“Vhat happened to everyone?” he sat up, looking across the helm at Hikaru who was draped over his station.

“I’ll explain on the way, alright? Please, come with me.”

He just nodded. Struggling to his feet, he leaned over to his friend and pressed two fingers to his throat.

“Everyone seems to be alive still,” you clarified, winding a hand under him and laying your palm flat across his chest to help him stay vertical. “I think there’s something airborne. I need you to help me find out where it’s coming from.”

“Vhy me, vhy not Mr. Scott?” Pavel asked as he let you lead him across the bridge past the reclined body of the Captain to the turbolift.

“I tried, he’s not responding to me,” you admitted. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I feel like I’ve been drinking for a veek,” he pressed his hand to his head. “But I sink I can manage.”

“Good,” you said, pressing the command for engineering. “I did what I was able to at the station on deck 6. The best I could elicit was that there was air quality controller malfunction.”

“Are ve ze only two awake?” Pavel asked, placing a hand on your shoulder for balance.

“Yeah.”

“How did you vake up?” he asked.

“I never fell asleep. I’ve been in my office all morning, and I only just realized something was wrong when I came out for lunch. The best reason I can think of is that Doctor McCoy gave some experimental bronchodilator this morning for that cough I picked up on shore leave. It must be doing enough for me to keep me conscious.”

“Not ewen Mr. Spock?”

“No. So much for that superior Vulcan physiology he’s always boasting about.”

The turbolift doors swished open on the engineering deck and Pavel took the lead.

“If zere is somesing wrong viss z’atmospheric controller, I should be able to find it. Fixing it, on ze ozer hand…”

“You’ve got me. I’ll get you what you need.”

Pavel made a noise and stopped short at a control panel. He typed in his authorization code and started poking around.

“Aye, z’atmospheric calibration system is completely offline.”

“How do we fix it?”

“I can reroute power from here, but zere is a bigger problem.”

He fell silent as he read the statistics on the screen.

“So?” you prompted, touching his arm.

“Zere is… I don’t ewen know vat to call it. Some kind of foreign compound in z’air supply itself.”

“Like a biological weapon?” A shock of fear went down your spine. “I’ve been actively breathing it for hours.”

“Aye, aye.” He glanced sideways at you with a quirk of his lips. “I am running a chemical analysis now.”

As the process bar progressed, Pavel reached out and took your hand.

“You’re going to be fine,” he assured you.

“If we get the atmospheric controller back online, will that clear the… whatever it is out?” you asked, trying to take your mind off of the substance of the particulate that had likely permeated every cell in your body by now. Being awake for the duration of this incident meant that you’d inspired more air than anyone else on the ship as they were all unconscious.

“As far as I know,” Pavel said, pulling his hand back as the screen flashed the results. “Okay. It is… spores? Ve should be able to -”

The computer cut him off with a bright red popup.

“What the-” you started.

“Oh Боже,” he cursed. “Ze source of the spores appears to be on ze ship. In ze main air dispersion compartment.”

“The source?” you asked, looking over his shoulder. The blocks of text all ran together.

“Aye, zere seems to be an organic… somesing in ze main dispersion compartment. And zese spores, according to zis, are highly toxic in large quantities.”

“Peachy,” you hissed.

“How can ve possibly get close enough to it to get it out?”

“Transporter?” you suggested.

“No, zat area is highly shielded against transportation technology,” Pavel countered.

“Alright,” you straightened up. Highly toxic. No transporter. Great. “Do we get the controller back online first and then get the thing out of here?”

“I vould not recommend it,” Pavel mused, tapping at the screen. “Considering vhere zis sing is, turning on ze controller might drag it into ze turbines.”

“Fabulous,” you snapped, throwing your hand up. “Alright, fine. I guess we’re just gonna have to go in and get it out ourselves.”

--

“Zis is going to vork,” Pavel muttered as you sealed the wrist closures on his enviro suit.

“It’s going to work,” you reiterated.

Pavel shook his head as you dropped his hand.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in?” you asked.

“No,” he blurted, snapping his eyes up. “No. I cannot… I could not live viss myself if anysing happened.”

You sighed.

“Nothing’s going to happen,” you promised. “This suit is impervious to literally anything when sealed. Just get the thing in the box and get back out. We’ll fire it out an airlock and then it’s all over.”

Pavel just nodded.

You touched your palm to the side of his face briefly before dipping to retrieve the suit’s helmet.

“Ze container…”

“Just as airtight as the suit. Just get the thing into it and bring it back out,” you reiterated the plan for the hundredth time.

You lowered the helmet over his head and activated the seal. You handed him the box and stood back.

“You can do this.”

Pavel nodded again, turning to Jefferies tube access port.

“I’ll monitor all your vitals from right here, I promise,” you said when he didn’t move.

He turned back to you and stepped up to you, placing a hand on your arm.

“Don’t let me die,” he said.

“You won’t.” You stood on your toes and kissed the side of his helmet. “I won’t let anything happen. Now get in there.”

Pavel turned back and climbed into the Jefferies tube. You sealed the door behind him and stepped up to your terminal, watching the helmet cam feed. You set your comm on the top of the terminal.

“Can you hear me, Pash?”

“Да,” he groaned.

“Good,” you muttered as you tapped the terminal screen, pulling up the schematic of the tube system. At the upper end of his current tube was the access port for the air circulation system.

Pavel opened the access port and a plume of dusty, green haze puffed out. He tossed the box into the tube and climbed up after it, sealing the door behind himself.

“There’s no way to ventilate that Jefferies tube without powering on the whole system is there?” you asked.

“No,” Pavel said. “Ve’ll just have to deal viss zat later.”

“If you say so,” you muttered. “Okay, Pash, next access hatch is the one. If your readouts are accurate, the organism is ten feet from the door.”

Pavel stopped. His helmet cam was aimed directly at the access panel.

“Pash? What’s wrong?”

“Y/N,” he started, “if zis does not vork-”

“Pasha, don’t-”

“I love you.”

You pressed your lips together.

“I love you, too,” you said. “Nothing is going to happen, I promise.”

Pavel reached out and activated the panel.

The hatch slid aside and there, ten feet into the compartment, was a toaster-sized, teal mass. It pulsed periodically as though breathing, expelling a plume of thick green spores with each exhale.

“It looks like a tribble,” you mused.

“Now is not ze time,” Pavel grumbled, crawling into the compartment, pushing the box ahead of him. “Should I be able to smell this through the suit?”

“No,” you said, pulling up a schematic of his suit. If there was a leak, the spores could kill him. You scanned over every inch of the suit readouts on the screen. “Pash, I’m reading all clear over here, it might just be your imagination. Or the spores on the bridge permeated your uniform.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t panic,” you urged him. “Just get the thing in the box and get out of there.”

Pavel grumbled and pushed the box to within two feet of the mass. He crawled up next to the box and looked down at it.

“Ziss is disgusting,” he said.

“The box, Pasha.”

He opened the box and reached out to pick up the organism. It peeled off the floor with a wet slurping sound.

Pavel gagged and dropped the creature in the box, flipping the lid closed and sealing it.

“Vat about ze suit now? I’ve touched it.”

“I… hadn’t thought of that,” you said through grit teeth. “I’m on it. Just get out of the compartment and back into the Jefferies tube. I’ll get the air quality control system back online and then… we’ll figure it out.”

“Aye, aye,” Pavel said, pushing the box back the way he came and crawling after it.

Once he was back in the Jefferies tube with the hatch sealed, Pavel let out a breath.

“I am sealed. Ze actiwation control should be on screen. Just tap ze button.”

You pushed the suit schematic aside and hit the control that Pavel had left open on the screen when he set everything up.

There was a low thrumming noise and you felt a cool breeze on the back of your neck.

“I think it’s on,” you said, selecting the Jefferies tube on the screen. “Your air quality is improving.”

“Now vat about ze suit?” Pavel asked, settling into a crouch by the tube entrance.

“I’m open to ideas,” you replied, starting to search through your available options on the terminal screen. “I could try to run decon… is that even possible in that tube?”

“Not to z’extent ve need,” Pavel said, turning toward the box. “Vat are ve going to do vis zis thing? It looks alive…”

“I know. Maybe we can put it in quarantine in medbay?” you mused as you looked through your options. “Do you know your way to sickbay through the Jefferies system?”

“I could probably figure it out, vhy?”

“Get over there. There’s a decon station there that we can use. Doctor McCoy might even be awake by the time you arrive.”

“Vhat about you?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“But when I come out of ze tube -”

“I’ve got more than one enviro suit, Pash.”

---

Pavel stepped out of the decon unit and stretched.

McCoy stood with you outside the door waiting for him.

“You’re alright?” he asked.

“Right as rain,” you said with a sideways glance at the doctor.

“So vhat’s going to happen to zat sing?” Pavel asked the doctor.

“I’ll just keep in quarantine for the time being. Run some tests.”

“I imagine we’ll have a great time figuring out how it got in there,” you added.

McCoy hummed his agreement.

“You’re free to go, Chekov,” he said, turning on his heel and leaving. He had over nine hundred people to triage following this incident.

“So, nosing happened to me after all,” Pavel announced triumphantly.

“You say that like you expected something to happen.” You punched his arm. “You know I’d never let something bad happen to you.”

“I know,” he affirmed, circling his arm around your shoulders and walking with you out of the medbay.

[ambiguouspuzuma]

COven

“You’ll be our new carbon,” the first woman said.

“I’m sorry?” Clara was still reeling from what had happened. 

From what she’d done.

She had so many questions about how and why it had been possible, but she didn’t need to ask how these women had found her. The trail would have been obvious from the sky: the diamonds had come to her from miles around, cutting through everything in their path, and she had felt the pull of so much more. Charcoal from barbecues. Particulates from car exhausts. They hadn’t been hard enough to drill in through the walls, but they would still have left a black stain over the surrounding neighbourhood.

Clara only wished it was the only one. Some of the diamonds had arrived with a coating of blood. They would have been earrings, as well as around fingers and necks, or other piercings she tried not to imagine tearing loose. Then there were those they might have scarred along the way. When she said that she was sorry, she meant it in every sense.

“No, it’s my fault.” The woman sighed. “I should start from the beginning. How to explain this in a way you understand... well, you see the way we all flew in?"

Clara could only nod. It was a sight that she would never forget, even if her brain was still too shocked to process it.

“We are what you might call witches, for want of a better term. We have... powers. A form of elemental magic. Do you know what I mean by that?”

“What, like fire, air, earth, water?”

“No?” Now the witch was confused. “Where did you go to school? I mean actual elements. Are you familiar with the periodic table?”

“Oh, right. Oxygen, Hydrogen, Iron, Carbon.” The penny dropped. Oh, that was another one. “Copper.”

“That’s right. Oxygen is me. That’s how I can fly, by controlling it. I just need something to hold onto, to use as a rudder.”

“Like a broomstick,” Clara said, eyeing the branch in her hand.

“It doesn’t have to be a broom. It just has to be lightweight and sturdy, so wood makes for a good material. And the right size, of course. One of our older members used one of her old hunting rifles, until it accidentally discharged last night.”

“So you’re saying she was... riding shotgun?”

“She died, Clara.”

“Ah. Sorry.” That brought back today’s guilt as well. For a moment, Clara had been lost in the possibilities of flight, but the impact of her own powers brought her crashing back to earth. “So I can move anything with carbon in it?”

“No. Only things which are pure carbon. So you couldn’t move steel, because of all the iron involved. But something like coal would be fine.”

“Or diamonds,” Clara said.

“Yes.” The witch gave her a sympathetic smile, but moved on before she had too long to dwell. “I’m lucky, because oxygen is often found on its own, so I can control part of the air all around us. Flight is just the start.”

“At least it’s not a solid.” Clara’s mind dwelt on it anyway. “My power hurts people.”

"I’ve hurt people,” the witch told her. “Sometimes more than I’ve wanted to. If I don’t keep my focus, I can pull the oxygen from somebody’s mouth, from their lungs, so that they only breathe the nitrogen and other gases in the air. They can suffocate whilst breathing just fine.”

“Oh. But you can control it, right? You can teach me?”

“That’s why we’re here. Your gift is an important part of our collective. Carbon is one of the most prevalent elements in the world. In inheriting this mantle, you take on a great responsibility.”

“Moving diamonds around?”

“That’s just on your own. Remember that I said you couldn’t move the carbon in steel?”

“Yes.” Clara was shocked, not deaf. It had only been a few moments ago.

“You can, if you work with our iron, and learn to co-ordinate yourselves. Our power is all about collaboration, communication. It’s centred around teamwork. Together, we can move mountains: literally. We control the whole world between us, and we are charged with protecting it. I should even be able to teach you how to fly, moving the carbon dioxide together, if we’re careful. But that’s a long way away.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course. I expect there will be many.”

“You said I was the new carbon. Does that mean there was one before me?”

“Yes.” Now it was the witch’s turn to dwell. “Our powers are eternal, but we are not. We simply inherit them, for a time, and when we die they flow on into a new avatar, a new incarnation of their fundamental particles. The carbon I knew died when you were born. We have been watching you and all your peers, waiting for your powers to emerge. Yours weren’t difficult to spot.”

[damiennazario]

Everything I Do, I Do it For You

Pairing: Jake x Female MC (Taylor)

Summary: Giveaway fic for @xo-endlessmayhem-xo in which Jake and Taylor meet Rebecca six months after the events of La Huerta.

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, with explicit language and references.

Words: 1,824

Note: I used Taylor, the default female MC for this because simply referring to her as ‘his princess’ quickly got tiring. Her physical description is never explicitly stated, so picture her in any manner of your choosing! Enjoy!

Six months have passed since the gang has set foot on American soil, soil that thankfully wasn't rushing lava or molten magma. Six months have passed since they won, in a strange manner of speaking, because the post-traumatic stress doesn't exactly make them feel like winners. But at least they can find solace in the fact that they are not alone with their feelings, and can always reach out to one another to try to keep their minds off of whatever’s ailing them. It's truly strange to think that most of them barely knew each other before winning that trip to La Huerta, and now here they are, going out for mani-pedis or drinks and generally acting like better friends to each other than the friends they'd left back at Hartfeld. It only goes to show that everything they'd gone through, everything that nearly broke them or killed them, only made them stronger as a group - especially for the couples, namely Jake and Taylor.

They were in talks of meeting his twin sister now that his bounty was lifted, he was finally admitted back into the states, and Lundgren and his Arachnids were no longer a problem. A quick Google search turned up several articles about his sister being shot by a serial killer named John Tull after responding to a shooting at a set in Los Angeles almost a year ago, and some disclosed which division she was in. Jake felt his blood running cold as he read them - his baby sister (only younger than him by 6 minutes) was just a rookie. He only wished the maniac who shot her was still alive, just so he could take pleasure in hunting him down and killing him himself with nothing but his bare hands, because no one hurts his baby sister. Thankfully, however, the article has since updated and said she has recovered.

With that, he and Taylor flew - almost literally by the seats of their pants - to Los Angeles to find her and set everything right. He was still almost ashamed to face her after all these years, and was worried sick about how she'd react, but he couldn't go on having his loved ones agonizing over him if he's a free man. It wouldn’t be fair.

Now, he stands before the entrance to the police station, at the exact division in which his sister is said to be working. Taylor is at his side, their hands intertwined as tightly as possible, and that's the only thing grounding him at the moment. He couldn't do this - no, he couldn't even physically be here - without her. She's the one who made this possible. She's the one who made everything that was righted in his life, possible.

He turns to her and swallows a lump that's about the size of a golf ball. "Listen. Even if she fucking tears me a new one," he pauses to smirk that crooked smirk that she loves so much, and she can't resist chuckling a little in response, "just know that I couldn't have done this without you."

She looks up into his sky blue eyes and nods modestly at him, squeezing his hand a little tighter as if to pump a little courage into his veins. And because she's magical, it seems to work, because he bursts through those doors like he owns the place, like the Jake she knew would do.

The secretary at the front desk looks a little rattled by his bold entrance, and adjusts her glasses to improve her focus on him. "Can I help you, sir?"

Taylor watches him intently as he talks with his warm, calloused hand still cradled tightly in hers, ready to give him an affirmative nod or squeeze if he turns to her with any residual doubts.

"Yes. I'm looking for Officer Rebecca McKenzie." he says, tapping his free hand on the secretary's desk. Taylor would guess that he's just using it as a channel for his anxiety.

The secretary raises an eyebrow somewhat skeptically. "And what business do you have with her, sir?"

Jake seems a little miffed by her inquiry, his patience dwindling quickly and his anxiety skyrocketing. He doesn't have time for 20 Questions. He just wants to see his sister again. "I'm her twin brother, Jake. See the resemblance? Yes? No?" He waves his palm in front of his face repeatedly to make his point, but doesn't let her answer. "Anyway, I need to speak to her. It's been years since I've last talked to her, and this is my only lead."

"Well, I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid I can't let you see her if I deem you to be a threat to her safety. You see, she was shot in the line of duty, and -

He furrows his brows and begins to raise his voice. His princess squeezes his hand as a warning, because if he keeps this up they'll drag him out kicking and screaming before he can achieve anything, but now he's far too angry to heed it. "Oh, yeah, I know all about that. But a threat to my sister's safety? Do you even know who you're talkin' to? I've done nothing but protect her all throughout our childhood, and now I just wanna set things right because I know she must've been worried sick." He stops and begins to thumb through his pocket, retrieving his wallet and shaking his head in exasperation. "Look, I'll even show you my damn ID if you really want me to, 'cause we got the same last name and date of birth. Look it up if you don't believe me. I don't know what else you want me to do for you."

Just as he's about to hand over his ID to the secretary, a redheaded woman steps out from the office behind the desk. "Is this man giving you trouble?" she asks, sizing him up until a spark of realization courses between them as their eyes settle upon each other, so strong that it's almost visible. Jake can feel his heart dropping like a block of lead in his stomach, but strangely.. not in the bad way. The redhead’s skin blanches almost instantly, as if she's just seen a ghost, because that must be what this is. After all these years, her big brother that she and her mother had always thought was dead is right here, in the flesh, alive and breathing with tired blue eyes, a five o'clock shadow, and tousled tufts of brown hair that were much longer than they were when she'd last seen him - he'd cut it before joining the navy. They were only 18 then, and just about 27 now. Almost a decade. It doesn't surprise him that she doesn't jump in his arms right away - she still looks a little apprehensive, as if she feared that he were a mirage that would disappear before her eyes if she got too close.

But Jake just smiles a tired smile at her and says, "It's me, Bex."

From then, she knows. Those two words were the key to her proverbial cage, and they set her free. She all but jumps over the desk and into his arms, her head cradled perfectly in the crook of his neck, and his head buried in her hair. Taylor just stands to the side of them, arms crossed and heart full. She can hear Rebecca tearfully mumbling, "Mama and I thought you were dead, you bastard. We missed you. I missed you."

Jake just closes his eyes and rubs her back. "I know, I know, Bex, and I'm so sorry. If you got my message, you'll know that I was ashamed of myself."

Rebecca pulls away, her greenish blue eyes puffy and red and sodden with tears. "But I don't understand. What the hell happened?"

Jake sighs. "Whatever Lundgren told you ain't true. He was a sonuva-bitch liar who sold weapons to the people we were supposed to be fighting. Mike and I found out and were going to confront him on a recon mission. But we got ambushed.. musta’ been him trying to silence us.. and I ejected in time. Mike didn't. When I arrived back at the base, I punched the fucker in the face and ran. Since then, I ain't ever stopped running."  Then he steps back and jerks a thumb in Taylor’s direction. "That's where she comes in."

"I was doing odd jobs in Costa Rica with my Delilah, since I had a $750,000 bounty on my head, which meant I couldn't set foot in the states ever again. That's when I got hired to fly a buncha' ragtag misfits barely out of college out to some island you've probably never heard of. The guy - we'll call him Phony Stark - was paying me good money, so I thought, 'Why not?' Best decision I've ever made, right there," he says, winking at Taylor. "She's the reason why I'm standing before you now, so I had to involve her in our reunion, 'cuz it's only fair. I can't tell you how many times we cheated certain death and failure together."

Rebecca offers her a grateful, yet still teary-eyed, smile. "I guess this means I should thank you. For everything. It’s so good to have my best friend back." She pauses and steps back to fan her eyes. "Jeez, I owe you so much, and I barely know you."

Taylor laughs. "You don't owe me anything. There's nothing I wouldn't do for your brother."

Rebecca's smile broadens upon seeing the way the two look at each other. "I can tell. He's very lucky to have you."

Jake smiles brightly down at Taylor, gently pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Damn right, I am."

The two walk out of the police station a couple minutes later, arms around each other and in much higher spirits than when they first came. The only comprehensible thought that crosses their minds at that point in time, besides their elation at how well things turned out, is now what?

Just then, Jake stops walking to look into Taylor's eyes. "So.. now that that's happened, I want you to know that I'm done running, Princess. Ain't nothing to run from anymore. I'm ready to slow down now. Go to college. Make somethin' out of myself. But more importantly, I want to make a home for us."

Taylor's somewhat taken aback by his seriousness. It's not all the time that he talks like this, especially about their future, and his in particular. It makes her insides fill with warmth and pride in how far he's come - from fearing it, to planning for it. "Home? Do you mean back in Shreveport?"

He laughs and says, "it don't have to be back in Shreveport, honey." He then leans in to kiss her temple, and squeezes her shoulder. "Home is wherever I'm with you."

[theburglcr]

“Finders keepers, suckers!” note: i haven’t added a quote for every single thing in the game, but it’s still a long read. i mostly just came up with the relatively ‘important’ quotes. that said, please enjoy.

Shovel- “Truly my best friend.” Pickaxe- “I love the rocky irony here.” Razor- “This is why people don’t have beards.” Hammer- “Any work well done just begs for a load of this.” Lucy the Axe- “Between you and me, he thinks ya look sharp.” Feather Pencil- “My grammar is better than most.” Brush- “Never been the hairdressin’ sort, myself.” Saddle- “But is it comfortable for the animal?” Salt Lick- “Don’t taste-test, don’t taste-test...” Miner Hat- “Never thought I’d find one again!” Endothermic Fire- “All sense is gone along with the darkness.” Mushlight- “Will my stomach glow if I eat this?” Willow’s Lighter- “I should never be trusted with this.” Bottle Lantern- “My brightest idea so far.” Buoyant Chiminea- “Water can’t steal the fire from me now.” Backpack- “Imagine all the money you can fit in there.” Piggyback- “Here’s hopin’ it’s not as sweaty.” Bug Net- “What a fearsome, vicious hunter I am.” Fishing Rod- “I hope to catch hidden treasure with this.” Straw Roll- “Sleepin’ with straw gettin’ in your clothes. Great.” Fur Roll- “This feels morbid somehow.” Umbrella- “Not today, elements.” Compass (generic)- “Wish it could point me towards treasure.” Luxury Fan- “I bet I could fly with two of these.” Siesta Lean-to- “I’m a shade master.” Pretty Parasol- “Frilly, but will do.” Telltale Heart- “Why do I hafta fix them if they mess up?” Booster Shot- “Rot injected through a bee stinger. Healthy!” Water Balloon- “Takin’ a bath the fun way.” Whirly Fan- “The things I do for a lil’ coolin’...” Bernie- “Ya don’t look like you’d be worth much.” Bundled Supplies- “Oh hoh! The thrill this brings me!” Booty Bag- “Where have ya been all my life!?” Silly Monkey Ball- “The humane solution to their meddlin’.” Anti-Venom- “Tropical insurance.” Crock Pot- “I ain’t no cook, but it should help me.” Bee Box- “They work hard, then I steal from them.” Bucket-o-Poop- “Ew. Good thing I wear gloves.” Science Machine and Alchemy Engine- “This is where the magic happens.” Thermal Measurer- “Let’s see the cold sneak up on me now.” Lightning Rod- “Never hurts to lessen the chances.” Gunpowder- “No safe is too strong!” Cartographer’s Desk- “Closest thing to an artistic outlet.” Accomploshrine- “I don’t know what I did, but I did it?” Spear- “I miss my daggers.” Boomerang- “A loyal weapon if I’ve ever seen one.” -- (hit self)- “$!@#! That smarts!” Blow Dart- “I ain’t no coward, but when in Rome...” Fire Dart- “Fear the albino dragon!” Sleep Dart- “Should I worry if I yawn after usin’ this?” Football Helmet- “I’m wearin’ the pig’s butt as a hat.” Grass Suit- “... Sure this will protect me.” Log suit- “I’m not on board with being hurt. Heh.” Marble Suit- “This armor’s the direct opposite of what I am.” Bee Mine- “Boom, bees.” Tooth Trap- “Come get a piece of me now, doggies!” Shelmet- “Function over fashion...” Snurtle Shell Armor- “A less dignified way to hide from trouble.” Scale Mail- “I’m this hot on my own, thanks.” Electric Dart- “Can’t come up with a joke. I’m shocked.” Tail o’ Three Cats- “I’m not even using it and I feel sorry already.” Spear Gun- “Now this is more my style!” Trident- “This means mermaids exist around here, right?” Cactus Spike- “Like my daggers, but much weaker. Shame.” Cactus Armor- “Always been told I’m kind of a prick.” Birdcage- “Reminds me of jail.” -- (occupied)- “I know the feelin’.” Pig House- “Wait, does this mean they have stuff inside?” Chest- “To store my stolen goods.” Scaled Chest- “Summer ain’t gettin’ to me or my stuff.” Mini Sign (drawn on)- “What? I’m an artist too, ya know.” Friendly Scarecrow- “His smile looks like my mom’s.” Wardrobe- “If it’s purely green on the inside, that wasn’t me.” Potted Succulent- “Her name is Erikita.” Sand Castle- “Totally sure this is not a waste of time.” Seaworthy (Vanilla or ROG world)- “Buenas!” Sea Chest- “Bring your stuff everywhere ya go.” Rope- “I use this often.” Purple Gem- “The downfall of the greedy.” Nightmare Fuel- “This stuff makes me uneasy.” Marble Bean- “Is there a money bean, too?” Empty Bottle- “Not very interesting on its own.” Prestihatitator- “Prestowhat now?” Shadow Manipulator- “Not sure I should be anywhere near this thing.” Pan Flute- “Makes pickpocketin’ so much easier.” Night Light- “See to $!@# believe.” Dark Sword- “Knew I had a sharp mind, but this...” Chilled Amulet- “So this is what cool people use, huh?” Nightmare Amulet- “Makes me see what I shouldn’t see.” Life Giving Amulet- “Could make a pretty penny off of it!” Telelocator Staff- “Probably dumb to mess with this. I’m doin’ it anyway.” Old Bell- “Do the work for me, big fella.” Moon Dial- “I’ve been mooned. Heh.” Piratihatitator- “Para... Piri... MAGIC $!@#!” Straw Hat- “This’ll prevent fires from startin’ on my head.” Beefalo Hat- “Convenient humiliation.” Beekeeper Hat- “I look honest in my stealin’ with this.” Feather Hat- “Probably the most colorful I’ll ever look.” Top Hat- “Rich people headwear. I hate it.” Puffy Vest- “I’m warm, but at what cost...?” Bush Hat- “Disguise 101.” Garland- “How to look pure and unsuspectin’.” Cat Cap- “I’m sorry, kitties...” Fashion Melon- “All the green doesn’t make it less embarrassin’.” Floral Shirt- “This one was made for me.” Eyebrella- “Rain is in the eye of the beholder.” Desert Goggles- “Got somethin’ in my eye... just kiddin’.” Blubber Suit- “Eugh! It’s noisy!” Windbreaker- “I’ll stop giggling when I forget its name.” Particulate Purifier- “For when chili night gets outta hand.” Shark Tooth Crown- “Bet I can impress the mermaids with this.” Dumbrella- “More like... oh, wait.” Log Raft- “I mean... nah, can’t defend this.” Raft- “It’s a slight improvement.” Armoured Boat- “Safe piratin’.” Iron Wind- “Doubles as shark chopper, too!” Boat Cannon- “Can’t be a proper pirate without this.” Sea Trap- “One step closer to a fancy dinner.” Trawl Net- “To steal junk from the sea.” Super Spyglass- “Could only dream to see this far until now.” Captain Hat- “Makes me feel like a sea cop. Feh.” Pirate Hat- “Ahoy, ye scallywags!” Obsidian Machete and Obsidian Axe- “Hot and sharp, much like me.” Obsidian Coconade- “I can feel it burn with anticipation.” Sail Stick- “To sail away from my problems faster.” Thulecite- “My highly valuable object senses are tinglin’.” Thulecite Medallion- “Ain’t useful here.” -- (calm)- “Nothin’ worth notin’.” -- (warning)- “Woah, something’s happenin’.” -- (nightmare)- “But what does it mean?” The Lazy Forager- “Nobody can blame me for snatchin’ their stuff now!” Magiluminescence- “I’m brilliant. Heh.” Construction Amulet- “Of course the green gem is the most economic one.” The Lazy Explorer- “Catch me if ya can!” Star Caller’s Staff- “Do the stars grant wishes too or...?” Deconstruction Staff- “ ‘Tis like a magic hammer.” Thulecite Crown- “Should be worth a fortune!” Houndius Shootius- “Those ancient guys were geniuses.” Birds of the World- “I like the tauraco leucotis one.” Applied Horticulture- “Good, I’m no farmer.” Sleepytime Stories- “I can’t tell if it bores me or it’s workin’.” The End is Nigh!- “Good thing I enjoy readin’ during storms.” On Tentacles- “I’ve read enough on them to know where this is goin’.” Joy of Volcanology- “Adds more than a lil’ spice to your current situation.” Kittykit- “Cute and clever, just like its momma.” Vargling- “Cachorrito!!!” Ewelet- “Smelly but soft.” Broodling- “Gosh, so ugly yet so endearin’.” Glomglom- “I ain’t one for hugs, but you’re just so fluffy.” Giblet- “Always wanted to have a chicken.” Candy Bag- “I wanna fill it to the brim with chocolate coins.” Gift- “The best things are the ones ya don’t hafta pay for.” Winter’s Feast Tree- “I feel something growin’ three sizes inside of me! Is it my wallet?” Lucky Whistle- “I HAVE THE POWER!” Charcoal- “Oh. Christmas came early.” Pine Cone- “I stole that tree’s baby. Nice.” Marble Tree- “Okay, now gold trees must be a thing.” Totally Normal Tree- “Tremblin’ like a leaf here. Heh.” Living Log- “Same.” Flower- “Green with a dash of pretty.” Evil Flower- “Green with a dash of evil...?” Cactus- “That one’s still got its daggers.” Tumbleweed- “Let’s see the trash it’s collected!” Jungle Tree- “Sensin’ lots of loot from that tree!” Snake Den- “I can hear ya hissin’, ya know.” Brainy Sprout- “The sea’s got a comparatively tiny brain.” Palm Tree (sapling)- “I’m callin’ ya Rosie.” Regular Jungle Tree- “You’re goin’ down like a sack of bricks.” Beehive- “It contains sweet, delicious treasure.” Killer Bee Hive- “Heck no.” Hound Mound- “Those barkin’ pests come from there.” Bones- “Mine will not be found like this.” Harp Statue- “Unlikely as it sounds, I don’t have the head.” Rundown House- “If you’re gonna steal an idea, make it better at least.” Merm Head- “My nose begs for mercy.” Pig Head- “This world does make ya lose your head...” Boulder- “Destruction comes with a reward.” Gold Nugget- “I might’ve been a hero in a world without this.” Grave- “Time to work!” Grave (dug)- “A job well done.” Wooden Thing- “It feels... incomplete.” -- (fully assembled)- “Long as I can take my gold with me.” Ring Thing- “What use is a ring with no jewels?” Worm Hole- “Disgust and logic say no...” -- (open)- “... Morbid curiosity says yes.” -- (exited)- “Disgust and logic were right.” Skeleton- “Thanks for the free stuff, man.” Spider Eggs- “Wonder if I can teach them to pickpocket?” Walrus Camp- “Gives a rich Walrus vibe somehow.” Mini Glacier- “Wonder how many ‘cool’ jokes it gets.” Hollow Stump- “It’s fulla hairballs on the inside.” Glommer’s Statue- “Looks important and exploitable.” -- (mined)- “Hope it was neither.” Skeleton (self)- “I meant to do that.” Florid Postern- “Got the feelin’ its beauty is just for show.” Magma- “Great, more things to be burned by.” Stagehand- “Far too pretty and harmless. I don’t trust it.” -- (walking)- “I’m always right.” Loot Stash- “Nobody leaves something like this all on its own.” Prime Ape Hut- “My old room pales in comparison to that disaster.” Magma Pile- “Now if that doesn’t beg to be dug up...” Steamer Trunk- “The sea smiles upon me today!” Volcano- “Dangerous. Something valuable must be inside.” Slot Machine- “I know better than to linger ‘round this.” Electric Isosceles- “For the insanely lazy explorer.” Octo Chest- “We’ve made a fair trade, friend.” Debris- “Ain’t proud of that one.” Wildbore Head- “Looks mad he’s dead.” Seashell- “One of these’s gotta have a pearl inside.” X Marks the Spot- “My fingers itch in anticipation!” Rawling- “I’m deranged enough, I guess.” Watery Grave- “That’s one heckuva way to die. Hah-hah!” Wreck- “I can wreck it all the more.” Volcano Staff- “If only it made it rain money instead.” Plugged Sinkhole- “A poor attempt at hidin’ a hole.” Rope to Surface- “Shame some sunlight is neccessary.” Splumonkey Pod- “Imagine all the valuable junk they’re unaware they have.” Odd Skeleton (complete)- “Well, curiosity sated. Or is it...” Ancient Statue- “Now that’s one statue worth a million.” Ancient Pseudoscience Station- “A museum would pay a lot for this, probably.” Ornate Chest- “How temptin’! It must be a trap.” Large Ornate Chest- “Outside matches the inside.” Nightmare Light- “Shouldn’t be ‘round this, however convenient it is.” Ancient Chest- “My greed is far too great to leave it alone.” Ancient Murals: -- (first)- “Those guys sure look miserable.” -- (second)- “Can’t read this...” -- (third)- “What’s that covering them? Ink?” -- (fourth)- “Eww! What the heck!” -- (fifth)- “What was that all about?!” Coffee Plant- “I did not expect these to grow here.” Elephant Cactus- “Dagger-filled cactus ready to fire!” Obsidian- “Almost sure this costs as much as it did to get.” Charcoal Boulder- “I’d save Santa some work if I mined this.” Burnt Ash Tree- “What did ya expect?” Dragoon Den- “Looks like the ideal thieves den if I’ve ever seen one.” Woodlegs’ Cage- “Nobody’s gonna be left behind bars while I’m around!” Clockwork Knight- “A knight of shinin’ metal.” Clockwork Bishop- “Never been the religious type.” Clockwork Rook- “Can hear it stomp from all the way over here.” Charlie (the darkness monster)- “Who’s there?” Charlie (attacked by)- “$!@#! Ya coward!” Hound- “Stand back! Don’t make me run!” Red Hound- “They’re fireproof now!?” Blue Hound- “They send a chill down my spine!” Hound’s Tooth- “I’m not tremblin’, you’re tremblin’.” Krampus- “You’re not even sneaky. Bad thief!” Krampus Sack- “Ah, a proper sack for a burglar.” Tentacle Spots- “Be right back, burnin’ my gloves.” Big Tentacle- “Surface doesn’t seem so bad all of a sudden.” Werepig- “I thought I could trust ya!!!” Ghost- “This time ya might just disappear.” Tam o’ Shanter- “No newsy cap, but still nice.” Mosquito- “If ya steal my blood, I’ll steal yours. Fair warning.” Mosquito Sack- “Didn’t think I could take my threat literally...” Cave Spider- “Now that’s just unfair.” Spitter- “Can’t blame it. They’re uglier up close.” Batilisk- “Yeesh, it looks so full of hate.” Meat Bulb- “Thinks it can trick me. How cute.” Fleshy Bulb- “My personal, living trap.” Eyeplant- “The plant spies with its little eyes.” Slurper- “It leeches off my lunch. Yuck.” Dangling Depth Dweller- “If they weren’t so aggressive, I’d adopt one.” Depths Worm (lure)- “Something’s very off ‘bout that.” Varg- “No! No! No no NO!” Ewecus- “Walkin’ ball of wool and gross.” Floaty Boaty Knight- “Great, the mechanical navy is here.” Poison Mosquito- “Ya can keep the poison, thanks.” Stink Ray- “Woah, man! What’s that funky smell?” Swordfish- “This fish got its own natural dagger.” White Whale- “All white, fearsome and hates everything. Like me!” Dragoon- “Sadly, they’re not intelligent enough for a truce.” Killer Bee- “Okay, I get it. I should buzz off.” Pig (normal)- “I could mug him if needed.” -- (follower)- “I’ll teach ya to steal for me.” Bunnyman- “A white ball of adorable. Like me!” Bunny Puff- “Hope they can forgive me.” Frog- “Rana o sapo?” Rock Lobster- “Well hello, potential bodyguard.” Pengull- “Lookit all that meat waddlin’ about.” Splumonkey- “Stealin’ from the thief. The nerve!” Catcoon- “I appreciate its eye mask.” Volt Goat- “I want one.” -- (charged)- “Maybe gettin’ one can wait.” Blue Whale- “Is it cryin’? Nope, just wet.” Bottlenose Ballphin- “I love you so much.” Prime Ape- “More like a prime pain in the $!@#.” Wildbore- “Doesn’t look like someone ya can steal from.” Gobbler- “Only I steal food ‘round here!” Chester- “A burglar’s second best friend.” Mandrake (planted)- “Should be picky with this one. Heh.” Glommer- “I want a statue for doin’ nothing, too.” Grass Gekko- “Your tail is grass and I’m gonna mow it.” Hutch- “There’s empty space where its brain should be.” Canary (poisoned)- “Keep your distance.” Shifting Sands- “Sure, hide like I do- I mean a coward!” Sharkitten- “One day you’ll grow up to be as fearsome as me.” Packim Baggims- “Stop hoardin’ my fish.” Parrot Pirate- “A bird after my own heart.” Seagull- “We just want to survive. Am I right?” Doydoy- “I feel sorry enough for this thing not to kill it.” Fishermerm- “Finally, someone I can steal from without consequences!” Tallbird- “Something can only be so territorial over one thing.” Tallbird Nest (with egg)- “Looks cozy in there. I can fix that.” Tallbird Egg- “Could sell this as a dinosaur egg...” Hatching Tallbird Egg- “Am I gonna be a mom? I don’t wanna.” Smallbird- “Expected ya to have more leg. Huh.” -- (hungry) “Don’t have to regurgitate something for ya, do I?” Smallish Tallbird- “I ain’t tellin’ it about the birds and the bees.” Treeguard- “I stole too many tree lives.” Spider Queen- “Gonna need a bigger sandal.” Spiderhat- “Thinks whatever a spider can.” Deerclops- “Well, $!@# me.” Ancient Guardian- “Whatever it is you’re protectin’ will be mine.” Bearger- “A thief doesn’t share her food, bud.” Moose/Goose- “Sorry, I just haven’t laughed this hard in a while.” Moose/Goose Egg- “Can’t mess with something this big.” Mosling- “Curiosity is likely gonna kill the cat.” Dragonfly- “It was nice to meet me.” Bee Queen- “Gimme your sting, Imma give that thing right back.” Bee Queen Crown- “Fool bees, get honey.” Klaus- “Lookin’ different, Santa. New haircut?” Stag Antler- “Ya better be worth all that mess.” Toadstool- “This ain’t no prince!” Sporecap- “That thing just screams magic.” Reanimated Skeleton- “It should not be alive.” Ancient Fuelweaver- “Almost wish I didn’t have to bring ya down.” Bone Armor- “It protects a lot more than you’d think.” Bone Helm- “I’m scared of usin’ this...” Shadow Thurible- “Why does it smell like money?” Palm Treeguard- “Nothin’ a good bit of fire can’t fix.” Quacken- “The bigger they are, the more loot they give!” Chest of the Depths- “Seein’ this is very satisfying.” Sealnado- “Time to break some wind.” -- (seal form)- “Killin’ it would be easy. Far too easy.” Tiger Shark- “Tigre y tiburón... Tigreburón?” Maxwell- “He used my greed against me.” Pig King- “I can smell his richness from afar.” Wes (trapped)- “What do I get if I help ya?” Abigail- “Sucks to be you.” Bigfoot- “I need new pants.” Abigail (revival failed)- “I feel kinda sad it didn’t work. Just a little.” Antlion- “I know that face. The ‘I want your things’ face.” -- (upset)- “What did I do now?!” Yaarctopus- “Snazzy getup, man.” Egg- “Like a fragile chest with tasty treasure.” Monster Meat- “This is far from a good idea.” Morsel- “Meatling.” Leafy Meat- “I can make it tasty. Just leaf it to me.” Fish- “Dad used to eat these a lot.” Eel- “Think I’m feelin’ eel.” Winter Koalefant Trunk- “Looks warm and big enough for me to wear it...” Cooked Frog Legs- “How is this fancy food?” Dead Swordfish- “Could make a good weapon if it didn’t smell so bad.” Dead Jellyfish- “I’ve always liked jelly.” Cooked Limpets- “Should stick my pinky out while eatin’ these.” Shark Fin- “The pest’s hat.” Delicious Wobster- “Now this can be called a delicacy.” Bile-Covered Slop- “May as well eat manure.” Extra Smelly Durian- “Smell’s stronger than a corpse’s.” Halved Coconut- “For the true tropical experience.” Red Cap- “Never trust red fungi.” Green Cap- “Still hardly sane to consume.” Blue Cap- “Mixed feelings...” Cactus Flower- “I see flowers awfully often ‘round here.” Bacon and Eggs- “English breakfast is weird.” Butter Muffin- “Don’t think killin’ the butterfly was neccessary.” Dragonpie- “Hopefully not as hot as it looks.” Fishsticks- “I bet a cat would love this.” Fish Tacos- “And now they will swim in my tummy.” First Full of Jam- “It doesn’t help I’m a messy eater...” Froggle Bunwich- “A delicious blasphemy.” Fruit Medley- “More delicate-lookin’ than I’m used to.” Honey Ham- “Surprisingly, it works really well.” Honey Nuggets- “Oh... gonna enjoy every part of it.” Kabobs- “I’m a culinary genius.” Mandrake Soup- “I consider this a good idea somehow.” Meatballs- “Missed these so much!” Meaty Stew- “I’d be stewpid to let it go to waste.” Monster Lasagna- “Only dogs would like this.” Pierogi- “How do I even know how to make all these neat recipes?” Powdercake- “Wouldn’t even feed this to a dog. My prey, however...” Pumpkin Cookie- “Interesting. And tasty.” Ratatouille- “Used to eat this a lot back before all this.” Stuffed Eggplant- “It’s as fillin’ at it looks.” Taffy- “Good thing I don’t care that much ‘bout health.” Turkey Dinner- “I ain’t festive, but this deserves celebration.” Unagi- “Deelicious! Heh.” Waffles- “Always wanted to try these. Mmmm.” Wet Goop- “Somethin’ went wrong.” Flower Salad- “Yes, I’m eatin’ the flower too.” Guacamole- “Not baa-aa-aad.” Ice Cream- “Ahhh, so refreshin’.” Melonsicle- “Perfect to chill with.” Spicy Chili- “ ‘Tis what I call dragon food.” Trail Mix- “What’s that I hear? Is it... jealous gobblin’?” Jellybeans- “These fattened me up as a kid.” Banana Pop- “I stabbed this banana.” Bisque- “Picky in ingredients, but worth it.” California Roll- “Fancier than I’m used to.” Ceviche- “It’s funny to see other people try to pronounce it.” Coffee- “Not a huge fan.” Jelly-O Pop- “Wonder if I can make one with peanut butter?” Lobster Bisque- “Everyone goes nuts for this one.” Lobster Dinner- “Now this is the kinda rich people food I can get behind.” Seafood Gumbo- “Dad would have a ball with this.” Shark Fin Soup- “Don’t think I can eat it with a good conscience.” Surf ‘n’ Turf- “Sure’s got a fun name.” Fresh Fruit Crepes- “Wow, looks pretty.” Monster Tartare- “Eugh! If I really gotta.” Mussel Bouillabase- “Buy... bi... uh, food.” Sweet Potato Souffle- “Sorta looks like a big muffin.” Seeds- “Normally I steal what they produce...” Honey- “Sticks to my gloves.” Butterfly Wings- “The loot of a dead bug.” Butter- “... Well then.” Rot- “Nothing is eternal, I guess.” Rotten Egg- “Takes one to know another.” Phlegm- “I’m gonna hurl.” Blueprint- “Bet this’d burn nicely! Just kiddin’.” Gears- “It’s not murder if it ain’t organic, right?” Ashes- “Nothing valuable ever winds up like this.” Red Gem- “A lively ruby.” Blue Gem- “Sapphire! So refreshin’.” Yellow Gem- “Not gold, but good enough.” Green Gem- “The best color, period.” Orange Gem- “Garnet? I’m not sure.” Manure- “Gotta be pretty bad for me to need this.” Melty Marbles- “Oh, canicas.” Fake Kazoo- “Maybe it can still hold some value.” Gord’s Knot- “Need to read that story sometime.” Gnome- “This could kill a zombie.” Tiny Rocketship- “It ain’t blastin’ off again.” Frazzled Wires- “Don’t remember cutting these off...” Ball and Cup- “Mastered this as a kid.” Hardened Rubber Bung- “Rubber harder than the sole of my boot.” Mismatched Buttons- “I’m cuter.” Second-hand Dentures- “Hope I can find a proper toothbrush instead.” Lying Robot- “Please. Brutal honesty is where it’s at.” Dessicated Tentacle- “Got the feelin’ this will make me very happy...” Webber’s Skull- “Fine, I’ll respect the dead just this time.” Pile o’ Balloons- “If only I had a reason to party.” Codex Umbra- “Smells like a bad idea.” Leaky Teacup- “Wonder if there’s a matchin’ teapot?” White and Black Bishop- “Kinda miss playin’ chess with dad.” Bent Spork- “Get bent.” Toy Trojan Horse- “This one’s actually really cute.” Unbalanced Top- “Lil’ nostalgic lookin’ at it, broken as it is.” Back Scratcher- “Ya scratch my back, I steal when you’re not lookin’.” Beaten Beater- “How much is this worth? Beats me.” Frayed Yarn- “Kitties would find it more endearin’ than I do.” Shoe Horn- “Boots are better for a reason.” Lucky Cat Jar- “If that pig’s got taste at all, he’ll know how important this jar is.” Air Unfreshener- “Should be poop-shaped instead. Ugh.” Potato Cup- “Now I, too, can drink potato-flavored water.” Wire Hanger- “My clothes may be tattered and dirty, but no longer wrinkled!” Iridescent Gem- “I like to look at it... is it lookin’ back at me?” Moon Caller’s Staff- “Now I can moon others too.” Shadow Atrium- “It should not be beatin’.” Beach Toy- “Some sandy guy could use this.” Crumpled Package- “Ya know what they say. One man’s garbage...” Venom Gland- “Fight fire with fire.” Dubloons- “Yes!! Proper money!” Message in a Bottle- “Not now, I’m busy lookin’ for treasure.” Snake Oil- “Tryin’ to fool me. For shame.” Orange Soda- “Sodarn excited to find this.” Voodoo Doll- “Do I or do I not have the heart to ‘play’ with it?” Ukulele- “Well, Aloha O’e.” License Plate- “M’sure I can use this for something...” Ancient Vase- “Ancient things are for museums. Museums pay for this.” Brain Cloud Pill- “Can’t remember what it does. Memory’s foggy.” Wine Bottle Candle- “Waste of good wine.” Broken AAC Device- “Doesn’t seem at all valuable like this.” One True Earring- “Sounds like something worth a fortune!” Old Boot- “Looks good to kick bums with.” Sextant- “Heh. Heheh.” Toy Boat- “I wanna paint a skull and crossbones on the sail.” Soaked Candle- “May have some use still.” Sea Worther- “Feel like a scallywag for not knowin’ what this is.” Iron, Bone and Golden Key- “It unlocks something important. I can feel it.” Tarnished Crown- “Doesn’t seem like sellin’ material.” Failed (Adventure Mode)- “That was a waste of resources.” Obelisk (sane, down)- “This thing gives me a bad feeling.” -- (insane, up)- “So it wasn’t decoration!” -- (sane, up)- “Lemme guess. I can’t blow it up.” -- (insane, down)- “Whoa, who chopped it down?” Divining Rod (before being picked up)- “Why is that radio on a stick?” -- “You’re gonna be a useful friend.” -- (cold)- “Who knows where it is...” -- (warm)- “Must be in this area.” -- (warmer)- “Gotta keep my eyes peeled!” -- (hot)- “It’s mine now!” Maxwell’s Door- “A creepy door in the middle of the woods. Hm.” Maxwell’s Phonograph- “Make that thing stop!” Maxwell Statue- “Vandalism just waitin’ to happen.” Maxwell’s Tooth Trap- “Nice try, old man.” -- (went off)- “Nicely done, old man...” Nightmare Throne- “My butt hurts just lookin’ at it.” Generic- “Heck if I know.” Freedom- “No prison is eternal!” Freezing- “$!@#, I’m cold!!” Battlecry- “De España con amor!” -- (prey)- “Right behind ya.” -- (pig)- “Time to smash the piggy bank!” Leaving combat- “Not my kinda approach anyway.” Dusk- “The sun hides as crime awakes.” Hounds are coming- “I hate that sound.” Deerclops is coming- “What the heck was that!” Eating (painful food)- “Oof. That wasn’t wise.” Hungry- “El hambre...” Lightning miss- “Gave me a $!@# scare!” Overheating- “I’m meltin’...!” Tree shelter- “Nature ain’t so bad, after all.” Giant arrival- “I know for a fact that’s no good.” Refusing to eat Eternal Fruitcake- “I’ll never be desperate enough.” Cave-in warning- “Keep movin’! Keep movin’!” Encumbered (carrying heavy object) - “Hrng... Huff...” - “I ain’t... made for this...!” - “This... is no work... for a thief...” - “Ugh... my everything...” Volcano eruption warning- “Be prepared.” Volcano eruption- “Run like heck and don’t stop!” Sea hounds are coming- “Not even in the sea...” Sealnado is coming- “Pretty windy today, huh.” Map border approaching- “A dead end. Or is it?” Entering map border- “Who knows by this point.” Exiting map border- “Whatever the case, we’re here now.” Riding wave- “Yeehaw!” Formal Set- “Nobody suspects a thief under this perfect look.” Survivor Set- “Sometimes, to find the diamond in the rough, ya gotta become rough yourself.” Shadow Set- “Now acceptin’ worship in the form of your valuables!” Halloween Costume Set- “Monkey business afoot.” Rose Set- “I am now even more of a prick.”

[sitorrothekitsune]

This was during my journeys, before I settled here. I was on a planet whom the people actually called Midgard. It was a nice place, and the physics there functioned much like your video games today.

I knew a guy named Joe there. He was a powerful person, perhaps the most influential person in the area besides a select few nobles and the royalty. But, he was also a kind person. He had taken in several apprentices to learn his craft, and taught them to grow stronger every day.

Eventually though, the town he was living in came under seige from other towns because they had a building that was an infinite resource of food. He and his apprentices were tasked with saving the town, because a few of the guilds of the kingdom were helping the seige force and they were both outnumbered and outmatched.

Joe went out on his own to try to figure something out, but his apprentices stayed behind, searching the spells they’d learned for anything to help. One of them noticed something. If they modified a certain spell they learned, it would be more than enough to defend themselves. To get the spell down to the level in which she could cast it though, she had to remove some of the “extra stuff.”

This meant removing the safeguard and immunities that Joe always put in the spells.

The spell she had made would kill anyone in a 50 ft radius of it in ten seconds, and when you died you would explode. If any of your particulates touched another person- even the smallest drop of blood- they would be infected. And so the chain would continue. One of the bigger problems was that the size of the spell increased when someone died. When it was activated... well... it wasn’t good.

2021! It’s here! It’s finally here! YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You know... I’ve lived through wor-

SHUT UP! That was shit and you know it.

[appinsta]

Air Purifiers to help you survive the toxic smog this Diwali season

The festive season of Diwali is upon us and while fun and frolic is in the air, so is the harmful pollution that comes with the burning of firecrackers and if you dwell in northern parts of India, chaff burning. Air Purifiers are need of the hour, especially since the air pollution levels are soaring across the country. If one is really worried about the repercussions of breathing in toxic air that the winter air brings, then a good air purifier is a smart purchase that won’t give you buyers remorse. This article will help you pick a well-performing air purifier, which is tried and tested to hold its own, even when the air pollution levels break records.  Blueair Classic 280i - Buy it here Meant for room sizes of 280 sq. ft., the unique feature in the 'i' models is the presence of an air quality sensor that speeds up the fans automatically whenever it detects a drop in the air quality of the room. Apart from that, the Classic 280i purifies the air using their patented HEPASilent technology. It has a smart panel on top to display Wi-Fi connectivity, fan speed status, filter status and the air quality of the room including PM 2.5 and VOC levels. The Blueair Friend app will let you control all the modes remotely without touching the purifier but it needs some work on Android phones. It can be purchased around Rs 30,000 and it can also monitor the air quality of your room in real-time and accordingly set the fan speed. You can read its review here.  Philips Series 3000 AC3821 - Buy it here The Series 3000 AC3821 air purifier by Philips features a digital display to show you the current PM2.5 levels in the air. WIth a humidifying feature, it's helpful in increasing the humidity in the air by up to 60 percent for alleviating symptoms brought on due to allergies. The device can cover an area of up to 80 sq.m and has a CADR of 310 cubic meter/hour and humidification rate of 600ml/h. It is priced at Rs 34,000. Honeywell Air Touch S8 - Buy it here.  The Air Touch S8 is capable of covering an area of 450 sq. ft. Although it supports app control, the buggy implementation of the app is a letdown. It’s better to control the air purifier from the device itself until there’s a software patch. Leave aside the app, the Air Touch S8 works out to be a decent air purifier to own. The air quality of the room is displayed using different coloured LEDs. If it falls, then the fan speeds regulate automatically just like the Blueair Classic 280i. The patented HiSiv filter is said to remove odours and toxic gases from the room. It also includes a pre-filter and a HEPA (high-efficiency particulate arresting) filter in its purification system. It costs around Rs 30,000. Dyson Pure Cool air purifier - Buy it here Packed with IoT features, voice commands, diffused air flow mode and more, the device is recommended for those who want a good-looking, feature-rich air purifier that performs well when the IAQ is in moderate to a slightly higher range. It features a sleek design, which sets it apart from most air purifiers of today. It also connects to the Dyson Link app, which doubles up as a remote and sports some additional features too. Equipped with a HEPA filter, which is constructed using glass borosilicate, it is capable of trapping particles as small as 0.1 microns. It has another filter made of activated carbon with Tris-coated graphite crystals that can trap harmful gases, household fumes, remove odour and formaldehyde. It is priced at Rs 44,490 and you can read the review of the Dyson Pure Cool here. Mi Air Purifier 2S - Buy it here One doesn’t need to buy exorbitant air purifiers for a small home. The Mi Air Purifier 2S performs well and can be used in a room of up to 350sq ft. It is priced at Rs 8,999 and is also IoT enabled so one can connect it with their Wi-Fi and turn it on beforehand. It can clean PM2.5, PM10 and Volatile Organic Compounds (VOCs). It has an OLED display on the front to help one ascertain how good or bad the air quality is. Philips Series 1000 - Buy it here Sitting on the portable side of air purifiers, the Series 1000 is equipped with a lot of essential features. The air purifier is capable of removing PM2.5 pollutants using the combination of its Vitashield IPS and NanoProtect Pro (HEPA) Filter. Apart from particulate matter, it also removes harmful gases such as formaldehyde and a few total volatile organic compounds (TVOC). There’s a real-time air quality check onboard and in the auto-mode, the fans will speed up whenever there’s a drop in the air quality. The air purifier claims to even remove bacteria and viruses. It will cost you around Rs 9,000. Kent Aura - Buy it here Like regular mid-range air purifiers, the Aura has a HEPA filter that intercepts particulate matter from the air, and additionally, this filter apparently has an anti-bacterial coating. Another normal feature, the carbon filter will be able to take out bad odour from the room and cigarette smoke as well. The device isn’t huge, standing at about 500mm in height, it can take up a quiet corner of your room or office. It has a control panel on the top for various controls such as changing modes, setting fan speeds, and it also houses an indicator alarm when it’s time to change the filter. Along with the particulate matter meter shipped along with the purifier, the device has an inbuilt air quality monitor. Based on the quality displayed, you can either turn up or turn down the fan speed. The Kenu Aura will cost you around Rs 7,800.  IQ Air HealthPro 250 - Buy it here The IQAir HealthPro 250 is a powerful air purifier that delivers on its claims. The device caters to a niche category of users that want better air quality in their homes, regardless of how much it costs. For those who suffer from breathing problems, It is one of the best options to choose from right now. It costs around Rs 1.10 lakhs and comes equipped with an F8 PreMax Filter, the V5-Cell MG filter, which consists of an activated carbon filter, and a hospital-grade class H12/13 HEPA filter. it can cover an area of up to 800 sq ft and one can also duct the air purifier for better performance. You can read our review of the air purifier here. from Latest Technology News https://ift.tt/2Rltx6r from Blogger https://ift.tt/2yIIeJK https://ift.tt/2OcYuHW