#i need to be able to walk through my yard and garden without being paranoid about honey bees

[captainjonnitkessler]

Good news everyone! I'm *probably* not allergic to paper wasps!

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 34

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Recovery did come, slow as it was. Some days later, Talltail sat by the big glass window. Jake was curled up pressed against his side, snoring loudly. It still felt a bit strange that the kittypet didn’t have even a small qualm about letting a stranger into his home, and treating him as though they were clanmates their whole lives. Talltail certainly didn’t dislike it. It felt safer than sleeping alone, and even if the water the twoleg put down had an unpleasant metallic tang to it, at least he could be sure it wasn’t going to kill him. 

Another oddity he’d found in the den was the twoleg sometimes lit a small fire inside at night, in a little stone cavern in the sitting room, and somehow kept it contained. It was more than a little frightening at first, but also incredibly warm. It was his first sight of real fire. Talltail couldn’t help but be mesmerized at the rare opportunity to closely watch such a dangerous unpredictable thing, feared by all the clans, without having to worry.

 But that was about where the benefits stopped.

In the couple days he’d been there, he had also suffered getting slobbered on by a dog multiple times, and the twoleg constantly trying to stroke his fur. Once it had made the mistake of trying to pick him up, but Talltail had quickly made it clear that was not going to fly. He also had to deal with letting it take on and off the uncomfortable soft wraps and smearing his cuts with a foul smelling goo. The twolegs paws where clumsy and shaky. It made him long for Briarpaw’s much more gentle touch. I will never complain of the smell of herbs again, Talltail thought. Not that he’d get the chance either way. But however unpleasant it felt, he suffered captivity with as much dignity as he could manage. And his wounds did feel a bit better.

The twoleg came up behind them and crouched down, making strange high pitched noises at Talltail, a sound he noticed the twoleg only made at cats. Talltail ignored it, tail lashing when it had the nerve to start touching his back. He turned slowly with a searing glare.

“You are an ugly hairless lumbering fool. You smell of fox-dung. I’d rather sleep in the dirt place than breathe in your stench.”

The twoleg made a pleased crooning sound and went on stroking his fur. 

Talltail continued, “you have a kits’ senses and wouldn’t be able to find your own stupid ugly nose even though it’s attached to your face. You are lower than a worm, and I despise you and everything you stand for. You are too flea-brained to understand a word I’m saying, aren’t you?”

The twoleg meowed back at him. It sounded like garbled nonsense.

Talltail narrowed his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you mocking me?”

The twoleg meowed again. 

Talltail bit its paw.

Jake snored himself awake while Talltail still held one of its long digits in his jaws. 

“Are you getting along?” he yawned.

Talltail spit out the paw and the twoleg made an amused sound and lumbered away. “We are getting along great,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s good. You’ve only bit him five times so far, that’s much better than the last cat he tried to take in,” Jake purred.

“Your twoleg does not take hints very well.” Talltail replied, ears flat in annoyance.

“Well I never claimed he was wise. He’s really very fond of you though.”

“Then he truly isn’t wise at all."

Jake yawned and stretched “How’s your brooding going? Anything go by outside?”

“Nothing more than some birds,” Talltail sighed.

“Oh!” Jake said suddenly. “I forgot to mention...I had an idea about what you can do. My friend Nutmeg has seen lots of strays go through here in the past moons. There’s a chance the cats you're looking for were among them.”

“You forgot to mention that?”

“In my defense, there’s been a lot of other things to think about.”

“In which case,” Talltail stood. “I think I have stayed here long enough. My cuts aren’t bad. I can manage on my own without that terrible goo.

He expected Jake to argue, but instead he nodded. “I’d never expect you to stay in a house like this, even I find it a little cramped sometimes. A promise is a promise. Follow my lead and you can sneak out.”

Jake took a couple paces towards where the twoleg was sitting and let out a very loud yowl.

 “Hey! Time to open the door!”

 Eventually the twoleg grumbled, stood up slowly on creaking limbs, and shambled over to the side door. He looked down at Talltail and tried to nudge him back with his long hind leg. Talltail let out a small hiss. Who does it think it is, pushing me? 

Jake winked at Talltail. “Just be casual. Act like you don’t care.”

Talltail pretended like he was busy grooming his chest fur. As soon as the door was open, Talltail shot out faster than a hare, across the yard, and clammered through a gap in the fence. Jake squeezed after him a heartbeat later. The twoleg made a hooting sound, but Talltail was already out of sight.

He huffed in the fresh air as soon as he set paws on grass. Never had he been so relieved to feel it.

With a contented sigh of relief, he turned to dip his head to Jake. “Thank you for everything. I’ll think of you often for being so kind to me. You’ve more than repaid your debt.” 

Jake blinked at him. “It wasn’t just to repay a debt! And I want to go with you.”

 Talltail stared. “G-go with me? This could be really dangerous. I may not like your home, but you're safe here. Where I’m going isn’t, and who knows how long it will take. Do you even know how to fight?”

Jake puffed out his chest “I’ve been in a fight! I got into a tussle with an old stray once, sort of by accident, but I held my ground! See this scar on my ear?”

He turned his head to show off the very, very small nick in his right ear.

When Talltail didn’t respond, Jake gave a dramatic sigh of defeat. “Well, all right. I can’t make you take me. But be careful of the neighbor dogs. And the alley cats. And the rude twolegs. And the cars. The paths and alleyways can get really confusing if you don’t follow them all correctly, and you can end up turned around and running nose first into all kinds of danger. You know where to watch out for all of that, right?”

He was giving Talltail a very pointed look as he spoke. Talltail flicked his long tail in annoyance, but couldn't help looking out at the town with unease. This place was unfamiliar and completely strange to him, not anything his warrior training had prepared him for. Obviously, because warriors aren’t supposed to come out this far in the first place. 

It was hard to admit to himself after he’d been so determined to do this on his own that weaving through this loud foul smelling town made him nervous, and he didn’t even know where to start.

Jake had an amused glint in his eyes. “I know you’re on a super important mission, but if you want to accept this 'kittypets' help, I'd love to show you around.”

 Talltail eventually had no choice but to accept that maybe he did need a guide. For a little while at least.

Jake perked up immediately. “Great! Then I’ll take you to see my friend Nutmeg. You guys seem like you're a similar breed of paranoid, maybe you’ll get along. You can describe those cats to her, and we’ll decide where to go from there.”

 Talltail still wasn’t sure about this. He felt deep down that he really did want Jake’s company, remembering a time when it felt like such a relief to go see him. And he didn’t realize until after he left WindClan how empty it would feel to be completely alone for so long. But at least unlike back then, he didn’t have to feel guilty about seeing Jake because it was no longer a simple excuse to get away from his clan duties. But still... I came out this far because I needed to do this on my own, didn’t I? Why should another cat be bogged down with it?  

“This could take a while, Jake,” Talltail warned again as they walked. “Are you sure you don’t have anything more important to do?”

Jake’s eyes smiled brightly in the greenleaf sunlight. “I assure you, I have absolutely nothing better to be doing.”

***

Talltail followed Jake, leaping down off the fence into Nutmeg’s yard.

“Wait here, I know how to get her attention,” Jake said, trotting up to a tall glass opening in the nest. He began pawing at the window until a disgruntled looking tortoiseshell poked her head through an opening flap. 

Nutmeg pushed her way into the yard and regarded Jake suspiciously. “I haven’t seen you in a couple days. Is that weirdo still in your house?”

“Actually he’s in your garden.” Jake replied.

Nutmeg’s eyes bulged as she had apparently only just noticed Talltail sitting with his tail wrapped tightly around himself, trying not to look awkward.

“Um. Hi.” Talltail said.

The bristling tortoiseshell flicked her gaze from him back to Jake, not hiding her obvious unease. “Ah. I see.”

“I know, I know, you don’t like strangers in your garden, but I promise we’ll be gone quick. We just wanted to ask about the cats you’ve seen.” Jake looked back at Talltail. “Nutmeg keeps tabs on all the cats in the area, she sees everyone that goes by. Spying is like, her main hobby.”

“I am not spying, it’s a matter of safety. When I see dangerous looking strangers, the cats that go outside ought to know.” Nutmeg’s tail lashed and Talltail knew she was clearly still unhappy about him being there. He remembered suddenly, now that he’d caught her scent, that she was almost certainly one of the kittypets he had frightened not long after arriving.

“Right I'm er...sorry for scaring you before, I suppose.” Talltail muttered. Nutmeg simply flicked her tail in vague acknowledgement.

 Jake nudged her and she sighed. “Fine, I suppose I'm sorry for calling you weird.” She then added, quieter, “but what exactly am I supposed to think when a big stranger shows up covered in blood and talking to himself?”

“Anyway,” Jake interrupted before Talltail could respond, “his name is Talltail and we’re going on a quest to find a group of strays.”

“‘We’?” Nutmeg stared at Jake. "Why are you going?"

“Yes we, because we’re friends and I’m a good guide.” Jake retorted. Nutmeg looked very doubtful, which made Talltail a bit nervous. He hoped Jake wasn’t exaggerating his navigation knowledge, but it was too late to turn him down now.

“Well…” Nutmeg hesitated, “A lot of strays have passed by here. Who exactly are you looking for?”

Talltail did his best to describe the five cats. “The only one I need to find is the smallest of them, dark brown almost black, sort of long messy fur, one ear tip sliced off. His eyes are two different colors. Looks obnoxiously aloof all the time. It would have been a couple moons ago.”

“A couple moons ago, that’s not encouraging.” Nutmeg said. “But surprisingly, I think I know who you mean. They’d passed by here before. Made themselves very known, weird bunch, too friendly for their own good if you ask me. I remember because it was a little before I met Jake. Before him, they were some of the oddest cats I’d ever seen. And before you I guess. They stopped to talk to Quince, I think they mentioned something about staying in the big wooded park in the center of town. It’s supposed to be a big area with no cars, and there’s lots of food, and apparently housefolk will feed you too if you know the right ones to ask. I overheard them saying were going to stop traveling for a bit, I guess they just had a loss or something. Mind you, that was some moons ago, I don’t know if they’re still there, but that’s what they said last I saw them.” 

“Wow you remember all that? You’re positive?” Talltail asked.

Nutmeg sniffed, as if she were offended. “Of course I’m sure! I’m sure of every cat I see, especially weird ones.”

“Alright, alright. Do you know where this park is?” Talltail pressed.

“Um...well no, I have no need to go that far outside my house myself.”

“I think I know!” Jake piped up, “I haven’t been there, but I’ve seen it from a distance. We just have to cut through some alleyways to avoid the cars.”

“If you think it’s safe to do that…” Nutmeg narrowed her eyes, “Not every stray likes you, you know.”

“I’ll be fine. I know exactly where I'm going.” Jake nudged Talltail “See, aren’t you glad you have me?”

“Sure. We should get going though. Thanks for your help. As a reward, I promise never to come into your garden again.”

She snorted. “Actually, as my reward, you can try to keep Jake from doing anything fluff-brained.”

“I never do anything fluff-brained!” Jake purred as he turned with a flick of his tail. “Come on, no time to waste.” 

He scampered back up the fence and beckoned Talltail to join him. Jake was far too excited about the grim mission, and Talltail was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable about not giving him all the details. “You’re only going with me a little ways,” Talltail reminded him quickly. “Just to the park. Then I have to continue on my own.”

“Sure, sure, but let's get going! You’ve never seen a town before, I remember how intense it felt the first time I saw it, I’ve got so much to teach you!”

Talltail allowed himself a small purr of amusement. There was still a distance to go. No need to be a drag the entire way when Jake was being so helpful, right? As long as he didn’t slow down.

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[gloves94]

Sunburn [Prince Zuko] 25

Warnings: None   Rating: PG-13   Pairings: Zuko/OC   Summary:   “You have everything you’ve always wanted.” “No.” He said softly. “Not everything…”  His golden eyes looked at her with a melting intensity she had never witnessed before. “I guess not.” She responded with glassy eyes as tears welled up threatening to break the dam of her eyes.

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

For some reason sleeping on a royal mattress and sleeping in the ground felt almost the same to Zuko now a days. He really hadn't been sleeping well since he returned to his kingdom. Often, he was kept up by confusing nightmares about dragons, his uncle, the girl with red hair and whispers about what was right and what wasn't.

He was still in turmoil after having received that ominous note the other night. It was a note that sent him on a scavenger hunt to the Dragon catacombs where he learned the truth about his inner demons. Uncle Iroh had finally spoken to him and he had not been able to shed the words from mind. "Because understanding the struggle between your two great-grandfathers can help you better understand the battle within yourself." Iroh replied patiently, watching as his nephew sat down and hung his head, "Evil and good are always at war inside you, Zuko. It is your nature, your legacy. But, there's a bright side.

"What happened generations ago can be resolved now, by you. Because of your legacy, you alone can cleanse the sins of our family and the Fire Nation. Born in you, along with all the strife, is the power to restore balance to the world." He had realized that his conscience. The one that told him what was right and what was wrong had taken the terrible embodiment of his ex-girlfriend and the more he ignored it the more it seemed to nag him.

Zuko stood with his arms outstretched as two servants helped him into his outer robe before he turned and allowed one of them to button it up. 'Can't button up your own shirt?'She judged as she sat on a chair with her legs crossed. He decided to ignore the comment.

"Fresh fruit, Prince Zuko?" Another servant asked as he held up a bowl of fruit with his head bowed deferentially. 'Do you need them to chew your food for you too?'

Feeling guilty Zuko put his hand up and shook his head in the negative and another servant stepped up to him, "May I wash your feet, sir?" Zuko repeated the gesture and another servant took a step towards him, "Head massage?" Zuko shook his head once again and walked towards the door but paused when another servant stepped up to him with a plate of steaming towels on it. He felt smothered by this life.

"Hot towel?"

He stared at the towels for a moment then sighed quietly and picked one up, wiping his forehead with it before placing it back on the tray and walking out of the room. He quietly exited the palace and walked towards the gates, stepping outside. Zuko smiled slightly at the small crowd of Fire Nation citizens standing around seemingly waiting for him. He watched in bemusement as one woman became overly excited and was led away by two palace guards then he went to take a step down the street.

"Prince Zuko, is something wrong?" A servant asked from behind Zuko and he gestured towards the palanquin he was standing in front, "You didn't take the palanquin."

Zuko turned to look at the servant curiously, "I'm just going to Mai's house. It's not far." "It's not a prince's place to walk anywhere, sir." The servant stated respectfully and Zuko glanced in the direction of Mai's house which was only a short walked away. Then he walked over and climbed into the palanquin. The servants picked the palanquin up and walked the few yards to Mai's house and Zuko peered out of the palanquin curtains, smiling slightly when he saw Mai standing by the doors to her house. The darkly dressed girl waited for him outside.

Zuko stared at the doors to Mai's house for a moment then sighed and stepped out of the palanquin. "You should leave," she said to him with her arms crossed over her chest. Her lips drawn into a serious thin line. He guessed she was still upset at what had happened in Ember Island. "I already said I was sorry Mai," he apologized. "It was all the fire punch. I had that night. I just got my words messed up," he spoke sincerely. "For some reason I find that hard to believe." There was no edge to her tone, as per usual no emotion. She closed her eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath. "I already told you! It was an accident!" Zuko said sounding more agitated. "I know." Was all she said. Her tone remaining as ominous as ever. "Know what?" He asked taken aback honestly perplexed at her comment. Mai didn't say another word and turned away retreating to her home. "Mai," He pleaded. "I know you're in love with her," she said painfully. It was the first time Zuko saw an honest glimpse of pain reflected in her dark eyes. "Things have not been the same since you returned from your banishment. I know it. I can feel it. And I will not be a part of this. Tsai spoke to me already and I understand everything now." "What?" His eyes went wide. "What- what did she say?" "She basically told me her whole life story and gave me a lame speech about supporting each other." She ran a hand through her hair. Yeah that sounded a lot like her. “I can see why you like her.” She was quiet, and he had no words for her. "This time we are done for good," Mai said lowering her eyes and mumbled a goodbye before shutting the door on him.

Xxx

Tsai found herself looking for an eight-leaf clover in the royal palace's garden. One which was beautiful and composed the heart of the Fire Nation's family palace. It had a nearby turtle-duck pond and ancient trees that bloomed beautifully. She was currently kneeling on the grass with her nose pressed against it when a pair of shoes came into her vision. She looked up and saw Zuko standing before her with his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing his royal robes and had his hair done up wearing a regal crown holding his short hair up. He finally looked like the perfect prince he had always wanted to be. "What are you doing?" He asked with an arched eyebrow.

She was sick of fighting and as much as she hated to admit it Ember Island had really helped in getting rid of all of that pent-up tension and anger the two had been carrying. "Your sister has me looking for an eight-leaf clover," she rolled her eyes. Zuko let out what sounded like a humorous huff. "You'll never find it." "Nothing is impossible," she said optimistically and leaned back on her hands looking up to meet his gaze. "Aren't you supposed to be at the war meeting?" She asked. He slightly jerked in surprise "War meeting? What are you talking about?" "Oh?" She brushed her hair out of her face a habit she had now formed. "Azula's at a war meeting. It's supposed to take all day long, which is why she has me here… doing this… I assumed you'd be there we well you know preparing for the day of the black sun." "I guess I wasn't invited," he muttered bitterly and looked off to the side his jaw clenching slightly. "Where did you say my sister was?" xxx Zuko clenched his jaw as he stalked into the Royal spa, where Azula was getting her hair done.

"Hello, Zuzu." Azula cooed without opening her eyes as two servant girls combed her hair in the water, "If you've come for a royal hair-combing, I'm afraid you'll have to wait."

Zuko ignored her as he came to stop a few feet from the spa, "So I guess there's a big war meeting coming up, huh? And apparently I'm not welcome there."

"What do you mean?" Azula asked with false interest as she opened her eyes, "Of course you're welcome there!"

"Oh yeah?! I guess that's why no one bothered to tell me about it!"

The Fire Nation princess sighed in exasperation, "Oh Zuko, don't be so dramatic. I'm certain Dad wants you there." A smile twitched at the corner of her lips as she closed her eyes again, "You probably just weren't invited because it's so obvious you're supposed to be there."

"Well, were you invited?" Zuko asked, trying to keep his voice neutral but failing.

"Of course!" Azula laughed lightly, "I'm the princess."

"And I'm the prince!"

"Exactly," She chided smugly, "So stop acting like a paranoid child! Just go to the meeting."

"Forget it!" He barked angrily as he spun on his heel and began walking away, "I'm not going!"

Xxx

Tsai lay on the lawn toying with a clover she had found. However, it did not have eight leaves that Azula had demanded. She had rolled over and was gazing up at the cloudy sky.

This had always been one of her favorite things to do. Simply lay in nature and take in the warmth of the sun, the scents of the outdoors, the sound of the birds chirping- "Give up so soon?" That was not a bird. She opened her eyes and saw Zuko standing where he had been only some moments ago. Knowing his body language. He looked aggravated. "I'm taking a break," she said bringing the clover to her nose. "Fine, take a break with me then," he asked. "No," she rolled over so she wouldn't have to look at him. "Don't waste your breath. I already told you to leave me alone." "I need to talk to you." Was all he said his tone was serious. She looked at him with a questioning look really not wanting to talk about them. As far as she knew that was over. “It's not about that." He groaned.  She turned to look at him with concern. "What about your girlfriend?" She asked snidely.

Some moments later Zuko and Tsai sat under the same tree by the turtle duck pond where he had once sat with his mother all those years ago. The spot made him melancholic and only worsened his mood. Some moments ago, he had sent a servant on an errand. "They are so cute," She leaned over and looked at the turtle ducks lovingly. It was as if a dagger was being twisted on his heart. "I used to feed the turtle ducks with my mother," he suddenly said.

Tsai paused for a moment. The smile wiped off her face immediately. Zuko had never spoken to her about his mother before. Now that she thought of it, she had never heard anything about the Fire Lady. She now guessed the woman was out of the picture… "She disappeared the day my grandfather died, and my father became Fire Lord. That day my life changed…" He said solemnly. "To this day I don't know where she is or if she's even alive, but I know I'll find her someday," he spoke determined looking away from her. Right… The way he felt about her mother, that's how she felt about her brother. She was more than familiar with that feeling.

"I know my father knows where she is, but he won't tell. Hell, he won't even have me at his war meetings." He said bitterly. "You were right, when you said my father doesn't want me? Back in Ba Sing Se." "I said a lot of things in Ba Sing Se," she mused, raising both her brows awkwardly. She hugged her knees and looked at him resting her head on them. "It's just a meeting Zuko, big deal." She rolled her eyes. "Prince," a servant said placing a basket next to them and bowing down lightly before retreating. "Here," he said handing him a basket with some loaves of bread. He handed her a loaf of bread she took it and said thank you before taking it in her hands and taking a bite.

“It’s not for you,” He couldn’t help but let out a rare laugh. “It’s for the turtle ducks.”

“Oh,” she let out sheepishly and couldn’t help but smile a little. She couldn’t help it. She was always hungry. Specially now living the life of a servant. She tore off a piece and threw it at the pond. In exchange he leaned his back against the tree and taking a loaf of bread began lazily tossing bits of bread at the ducks who now swam closer in the edge of the pond. "This is nice," she spoke. "Us. Being… friends," she said after a moment. "Yeah," he smiled back a little bit. "I still don't think I'll ever forgive you," she said darkly after a moment making the faint smile on his lips vanish.

He averted his gaze from hers, feeling a pang of guilt on his chest. "Why? My sister still treats you better than she treats me." He rolled his eyes. "Right, I'm stuck here while Iroh rots in a jail cell." She said coldly. "Tsai," he said lowering his head. "I don't know what's right or wrong anymore. Everything I once believed in- I'm not sure what to think. I have nightmares that keep me away at night. Two dragons tug and pull at me… And I found out-" He paused for a moment. "I talked to my uncle. Sozin might've been my great-grandfather but so was Avatar Roku." Her eyes went wide at the revelation. "He said that evil and good are always at war inside of me. It's in my nature. It's my legacy." Well.…that was loaded. "So what are you going to do?" She asked turning away from him. He was silent. "I.. I don't know." Again, there was that heavy silence between them. "My grandfather would say that there is good and evil in all of us. Or a good dragon and a bad dragon. He would say that who we become depends on what dragon we choose to feed." A strong wind blew by. "So which one are you feeding?" He looked at her wise beyond her years. There was still that faint smile on her face. "Also, about my grandfather. You're right. I still haven't come to term with it... With his passing. I miss him." She said sadly. He saw the way her hand reached for her neck and suddenly his uncle's words sounded in his head. "Let her go. If she doesn't come back it was never meant to be." "Here," he said slowly.

She turned to face him and saw him fishing something out of his pocket. She let out a small gasp when he fished out a sunstone hanging of a long golden chain. It was her family's necklace! The chain was different, but the stone was the same round orange one.

"Azula broke it," he sounded apologetic enough about it. "How?" She looked at him in shock asking more about how he had the sunstone more than how his sister had broken it. "I.…" He said slowly. "I couldn't say goodbye, but I also couldn't bear leaving without you. So, I took it from you. As the Blue Spirit." "And you just carry it around?!" Her tone became rougher, angrier. He still held the necklace in his hands in her direction. All this time he had just been carrying it around in his pocket like just that? It was then that she suddenly felt a deep sorrow. "You know what.." She softened her tone. "Keep it." She said taking his hand in hers and closing it over the family heirloom. "What?" He asked shocked. "Really. Keep it. It's yours." "But Tsai- it's yours. your grandfather gave it to you." He looked at her hands in disbelief. He couldn’t believe she was giving her the last trace of her family. Her identity. A bit of her soul. Her most cherished possession. He saw her eyes becoming glassy.

“Congratulations,” she said. “You have everything you’ve always wanted.” There was a small smile on her face. “No,” he said softly. “Not everything…” His golden eyes looked at her with a melting intensity she had never witnessed before. “I guess not.” She responded with glassy eyes as tears welled up threatening to break the dam of her eyes. With that she stood up and began walking away before the tears threaten to spill.

"Prince Zuko," The servant interrupted respectfully as he dropped to one knee and bowed his head interrupting "Everyone's waiting for you." Zuko stared at the auburn-haired girl's retreating figure. He looked at her, the heirloom on his hand and back to the servant. "The high admirals, the high generals, the war ministers, and the princess have all arrived." The servant replied without lifting his head, "You're the only person missing."

"So," Zuko frowned slightly, "My dad wants me at the meeting?"

"The Fire Lord said he would not start until you arrived, sir." A smile pulled at his face. He turned towards the girl and saw that she was the distance she had formed between them.

“Would you look at that,” she bent down. “An eight-leaf clover…”

xxx

Zuko attended his father's meeting. A meeting in which they discussed the strategy for the incoming attack that would happen during the solar eclipse.

He looked down at the necklace which he wore under his robes. The thin chain creeping around the edges of his neck. He could feel it resting against his chest. It was a heavy burden. Everybody welcomed him when he went to the meeting. It was unbelievable. Even his father had saved him a seat next to him. He was literally at his father's right hand. The most prestigious seat in the entire meeting. Even closer than Azula. He was finally the perfect prince. The heir to the throne. The son that Ozai had always wanted. He had everything he had always wanted… But.…it wasn't him…

xxx

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[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Hand That Reaches for God - Chapter 11

Warnings: graphic parental abuse, normal zombie/apocalypse violence, blood, gore, language.

Chapter Eleven

“My only relief is to sleep. When I’m sleeping, I’m not sad, I’m not angry, I’m not lonely, I’m nothing.” – Jillian Medoff

-18 Days After-

What does it mean to be alive? Was it the sweaty feeling of Emerson Maklen’s fingers inside of Deans? Was it the ache in his leg from war, which still hurt after a long drive, or before the rain fell? Was it the sound of Pheli and Sam’s rapid fire guesses on twenty questions? Was it the fresh air and blood that pumped through Dean Winchester that kept him moving? What did it mean? The questions were the same that plagued him his whole life. 

Why was his father so cruel? Why wasn’t Dean the smart one? Why couldn’t he ever be fucking good enough, no matter how hard he tried? He glanced at Emerson who was laughing at something that Ophelia had said. Emerson Maklen, the girl that he never thought he would deserve.

He remembered watching her, curled up on the porch swing working on her homework. She looked studious. She worked hard. She was beautiful with her study glasses sliding down her nose and her blonde hair falling into her face. She was effortless, unlike her sister who put in endless effort in her style and makeup. Emerson was unlike anyone he had ever met.

“Do I have something on my face? Dean I swear to god...”

“Nah, nothin like that.” He said with a shrug. If he hadn’t been staring at her mouth he may have missed her statement all together.

He didn’t want to introduce her to his war buddies. His memories of them were all dirt, dicks, and filthy jokes. “Got a girl back home, Winchester?” He would shake his head, no, because he didn’t. But more than anything he said no, because he saw the way the guys dug into Garth about his lady. Asked how fuckable she was. Asked to borrow a photo. He couldn’t imagine them getting their cum covered hands all over one of Emerson. No fucking way, he was keeping that to himself. Not that he had one to show, anyway.

“That’s reassuring.” She said, wiping at her face anyway.

Growing up, their father always said that life was war. There was always something to fight for and someone to fight against. Dean just didn’t think John got the message that he wasn’t supposed to fight against his children. That beating his own pain out of his fists wouldn’t solve any of his problems, just create new ones. It was easier to blame John for all of his issues. There was no way around the fact that John was ten shades of fucked up. His time in the marines had done him over. More so than just making him a yes sir, no sir kind of man. He was jumpy. He was cruel, and he was paranoid.

-15 Years Before-

One night Dean woke up to John shaking him. His strong hands were on Dean’s shoulders. “Wake up son, wake up!”

“What? What’s goin on? Dad?”

John’s eyes were bloodshot. “Get up.” He grabbed the comforter in his hands and threw it off the side of his bed. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Dean asked, rubbing his eyes.

John grabbed ahold of his sons arm and pulled him along with him. He pulled his son down the stairs and out into the back yard. There was madness in his eyes, and Dean noticed for the first time that John’s feet and hands were covered in dirt. He was holding a garden shovel. “What is this?”

They loomed over a large hole in the ground. It was the length of the shovel and only a few feet wide, not much wider than John’s shoulders. “Get in.” He said hurriedly.

“What?”

“Get in the fucking hole, son!”

“Dad I…”

“That’s an order!”

“Yes sir.” Dean squeaked. John gripped the shovel in his hands again. He was white knuckled against the wood, and as Dean talked back he watched the shovel rise higher in the air. John would kill him if he hit Dean with the shovel. Dean knew that, so he complied, and climbed into the hole. He sat at the edge of the hole and dropped himself into it. His bare feet hit wood at the bottom of the hole. There was a box. It was crudely put together, and when Dean turned his foot caught a loose nail causing him.

“Sit down boy.”

“Yes sir.” He followed instructions, lowering himself to a seated position.

“This is important soldier so listen… listen… do you hear me?” He was rambling, pacing back and forth. He held the shovel like a gun.

Dean felt blood trickle out of his foot and his palms started to sweat. He couldn’t call out for his mother without being reprimanded or injured. Plus, there was a huge risk that John would shove his wife into the hole right next to their son. Or Sammy. Dean couldn’t risk it. He swallowed hard and tried to keep his hands from shaking. He had to be strong.

“They could come for you. They will come for you at some point. Who knows what kind of torture they’ll put you through. Bamboo under your nails, cuts, or they could bury you alive. I can’t have you tellin secrets to the enemy. Do you understand? I need you to be able to get yourself out. To not be afraid. Lay down.”

His back scraped against the wood, against the nails and he bit down on his tongue so he wouldn’t cry out in pain. He couldn’t make John angrier.

“Shut the lid.”

He couldn’t make his arms move, they were made of concrete, stones, they were heavy and stuck to his sides. He was shaking more now despite the sticky humidity of the Summer night air. “I won’t be able to get out.” He whispered.

“If you have the will to live you will. It is amazing what the human body can do. You’ll see. I made the boards loose. I won’t pack down the dirt. It will be easy the first time.” The first time.

Dean couldn’t do it. He started to cry. He knew that John always hit him for that. Men don’t cry. But he wasn’t a man, he was a twelve year old boy who needed to not die alone in a damp fucking hole.

“Shut the fucking lid!” John’s voice was enough to startle Dean out of his tears. He grabbed the lid and allowed it to fall shut above him. Everything was dark. All he could hear was his heavy breathing and the pitter patter of dirt falling on top of the make shift casket.

He was going to die before he ever made it to high school. He was going to suffocate before he ever kissed a girl. He couldn’t remember the last thing he said to his Mom or Sammy. Sammy. Who would protect his brother if he was dead? He started to scream, finding his voice again. He could take whatever John threw at him, but damn it, he had to be alive to take the punishment. He clawed at the lid, trying to break through, but his fingers were weak from fear and sleep. His nails broke and blood ran down his fingers. He kicked at the lid and screamed louder. It felt disjointed, like he was watching himself from above. Maybe he was dead already, just replaying the moments before his lung filled with dirt, and the worms buried deep into his skin. “Help!”

More dirt. More blackness. Pieces of dirt and rock fell between the cracks of the pieces of wood. He felt around for the nail that cut him down by his feet. It caught his already bloodied fingers and he pulled. He pulled and yanked. Maybe if he could get it out of its place and break through the lid. His fingers were wet from blood. The nail kept slipping out of his grip. He couldn’t get it. Tears soaked his face. Dirt fell into his open mouth as he screamed for help. He coughed at the dirt in his throat. He screamed and screamed, his arms finally giving up. He had no more in him. Nothing left. No more energy to claw at the lid of the box. He was a shell. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I am so sorry.”

It felt like an eternity before the lid opened again. His mother leaned over the box in her white nightgown, covered in dirt. “Oh Dean!” She screamed, pulling him out of the box and against her. She was sobbing and he could faintly hear his father murmuring in the background.

“I’m sorry, Mary. I didn’t… Dean is okay. He is okay. I’m sorry.” He was crying, as if the motherfucker deserved to cry. As if he deserved the sympathy. As if he was the one hurt.

It was the last straw. At least for a little while.

-18 Days After-

Dean never intended to be like his father. John had court mandated therapy after the incident, and they never spoke of it again. Dean didn’t sleep for a week until he started sneaking his father’s whiskey. It would knock him right out. Just a few sips and he was sleeping, dreamless. They never told Sam. Deans many wounds from being inside the box were blamed on a fight at school. It was easier than explaining the truth.  Dean was always getting into trouble, after all.

He didn’t want Afghanistan to fuck him up, but he didn’t always get what he wanted. Frankly, he rarely did. It just wasn’t in the cards for a guy like him.

“Is it a giraffe?” Sam asked Ophelia, looking serious.

“No! Try again!”

“Damn it. You’re cheating, you have to be.”

“I’m not!”

“Dean are you okay?” Emerson whispered to him as his fingers tightened around hers. “You seem like you’re somewhere else.”

“I’d like to be somewhere else.” He said quietly. He didn’t mean her. Of course he didn’t, but she looked away nonetheless. He didn’t tug her hand back, because his mind was still swimming. He was walking toward that past that he worked so hard to put behind him. The past that Lisa helped bury, and this time she wasn’t there to do the heavy lifting. He couldn’t expect Emerson to do that for him. it would be too much. It was too much the first time, and this time he knew better.

“I think,” Pheli said, hopping up on the median that separated the two highways. They were close to the city at that point, within a quick sprint of down town. “That you’re really bad at this. Maybe you don’t know me at all Sam… maybe.”

She slipped. At least that’s what it looked like at first. The others didn’t see the red blistering fingers reach up from the other side of the median. They wrapped around her ankle and yanked hard, sending her falling over the median to the other side of the highway. “Phel you klutz.” Sam laughed, shaking his head.

“Sam!” She screamed in response. It wasn’t out of anger, or pain. It was fear.

“Phel?” Sam called, hopping up on the median. “Shit, Dean!” He shouted before jumping down.

There was a creature. Once a man, but now he looked more like what he would expect a man that went through a garbage disposal to look like. Its skin was red and limp, falling off of its face as Pheli scratched at him, screaming at the top of her lungs. Its black teeth were biting lazily at her, its white eyes were hazy with no life left in them. Its legs were broken in an awful way that kept it from standing, like maybe it had been ran over by a car. That didn’t stop it from crawling and grabbing at Ophelia with its bony, fleshless fingers.

She kicked at it, her boots slushing in the wet skin. It peeled away with the lightest touch. Both of her hands were on its shoulders holding it at bay, just out of biting distance. They didn’t know if the bites would do anything worse than a normal bite, but it wasn’t worth the risk.

Sam’s feet landed on the asphalt. He grabbed the creature by the shirt and yanked it away from Pheli. He pulled out his gun as quickly as he could and pressed it to the back of the creatures head. He pulled the trigger. The sound of the bullet echoed, cutting through the still air. 

Ophelia didn’t stop screaming until Sam pulled her into his arms, the body of the creature was disposed in a crumple on the ground, its face blown away. Ophelia’s face and clothes were splattered with the dark blood of the creature.

“Hey, I’ve got you.” Sam promised.

It was all so fast. By the time Emerson got over the median it was over. She ran and crouched to her sisters side. Ophelia turned to Emerson and hugged her. “I thought I was going to die.” She cried into Emerson’s shoulder.

She held her sister tight. “I won’t let you die. Not like this. We die together, remember? It’ll just be you and me. We will die on the same day. Today isn’t that day.”

“Today isn’t that day.” Ophelia was slowing down on her tears, matching her twins breathing.

“That’s right. Today isn’t that day.” Emerson repeated, pulling back so she could wipe the blood away from her sisters mouth and eyes. “You’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” She repeated. “We are okay.”

But they weren’t okay.

“Ladies, not to break this up but we need to go.” Dean said, his thumb gesturing toward the city.

The gun shot must have alerted them. “Shit, Phel get up.”

“What?” Her eyes were still full of tears.

“Get up now, we have to run!” Emerson said as her eyes caught a hoard of creatures making their way through the cars. She couldn’t count, there were so many they were pushing together and climbing over the cars.

Emerson pulled up her sister and Pheli cried out in pain when she pressed on the ankle that the creature had grabbed. “Shit, you good?” Dean asked.

“No... I...”

“Come on.” Sam said crouching so Pheli could climb into his back. Sam gripped her legs, while Dean and Em grabbed their bags. “We need to go.”

They ran. Thankfully Sam had long legs so he was able to keep up. Emerson knew that Dean was going slower on her account. He was always a good runner. She remembered him jogging around the neighborhood before he deployed. He would make effortless laps through the streets for a good hour or two.  

The group ran on the emptier side of the highway, the creatures noticing the rapid slaps of their feet on the concrete. They drug themselves toward the median, up and over. Their groans and screams filled the empty air, the sound of flesh sloshing off of skin, and the sound of shoes gaining on them. Dozens of feet hitting the asphalt. The group didn’t have advantage this time. They weren’t on high ground. They were surrounded.

“Toward the city!” Dean instructed. “We need to get inside, out of view.”

They pushed forward, Emerson felt a pair of fingers brush her back and she pushed forward faster. The creatures climbed over to her right, falling over the median, some falling right at her feet. She jumped over them, and fuck she didn’t even know she could jump like that. They bit at her like the plants from the old Super Mario game. She jumped, and they reached for her. One slip up and she was down. The brothers couldn’t stop for her if she fucked up. They’d have to go on, and leave her to be dinner, or whatever the creatures wanted from her.

Entering the city felt like jumping over a line into another world. The tall buildings hovered over down town. It looked so much worse close up. The doors were boarded up. Spray paint covered the windows and walls. Cars were abandoned, trash everywhere, and bodies feasted upon in the streets.

Dean turned for a place to hide and in the pivot his knee twisted. “Fuck.” He said automatically as he fell to the ground. Pain burned and shot up through his leg. Sam didn’t notice his brother fall and he and Pheli were at doors, trying to bust them down.

“Shit, are you okay?” Emerson immediately crouched next to Dean.

“No I...”

More groans. The squish of hurried flesh. They were close.

“Come on, get up.” Emerson reached through his arm and tried to help him up. He got steady, but the moment he put any pressure on his bad knee he collapsed back into a ball at her feet. “Dean...”

“I can’t. Fuck.” He reached for his thigh and unholstered his gun. He tossed it to her and she caught it easily. “Go.”

“Yeah right.” She frowned, and stood over him, clicking the safety off the gun. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Yeah, back atcha.”

“I’m hurt. I’m a liability.” Dean insisted. He knew how bad his knee was. He would just slow them down. It wasn’t just that. The wall he built in his head was quickly crumbling around him. “Go, Em. Come on.” He hissed.

“Pheli is hurt too, and we aren’t leaving her.”

“Because Sam can carry her, and unless you’ve gotten stronger lately I don’t think you can piggy back me.”

“Well, then I guess we die together.”

Dean frowned, his eyebrows coming together. “You don’t mean that. You’re supposed to die with Phel. In a long time. Remember?”

“She has Sam. She will be okay.”

Sammy.

Dean tried to lift himself up, his body crying out in response. Black peppered his vision as he tried to keep from blacking out. He ran on the leg before. He had to. He thought back to the creature on the ground with its two broken legs. He couldn’t be that sad son of a bitch. He couldn’t lay there and die if Emerson refused to leave him. He couldn’t let her die, too. He couldn’t leave Sammy with the responsibility of taking care of things alone.

“Hey I’ve got you.” She said, quickly grabbing his arm. He was heavy, but her feet were apart and her legs were steady. She put her arm under his like a crutch. “Don’t put pressure. Let’s go.”

It was too late. They took too long. The mob came around the corner to their left. “Fuck, let’s go!” Emerson said, dragging him to their right. Sam had turned then, they were quite a bit forward, still pushing on doors. He finally must have found one that wasn’t locked, because he stood there with his mouth hanging open and his hand on the handle. Between them, another group came around a corner. Another dozen or more.

They were surrounded.

“Dean..” Emerson gasped, her grip tightening on his waist. “We can fight them all. There aren’t enough bullets.”

They shuffled closer. The moans white noise. They were a buzzing in the air like coming up on a bee hive. The air was palpable, moving. She could smell them, the burning, rotting out flesh. It stung her nose. Bile rose in the back of her throat, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the smell or that it may be the end. It was all about to be over. There was no way out. No last stitch effort that either Emerson nor Dean could see.

She pulled him against the building. They couldn’t run, but with Deans wounded leg they couldn’t run anyway. At least now they couldn’t be attacked from behind. She quickly pressed his back against the building. With her hands pressed to his chest she opened her mouth to let out the words she was swallowing all those years, but her breath hitched in her throat. She couldn’t. No matter how much she wanted to. So she turned away, with her back pressed to his front. Her arms were extended, holding her weapon. Despite the terror growing inside of her, her arms didn’t shake one bit.

Dean wrapped his arms around her to help her aim. They were able to take out a hand full as they came closer. One head shot. Another missed. In the throat, then again in the head. They didn’t have enough ammo. How many monsters were out there? They’d never have enough. Dean glanced around for something long and blunt to hit them with. In the middle of a city they were falling short of sticks or rocks.

She pulled the trigger and it just clicked in quiet response. She kept pulling and it continued to click back at her, empty. Dean sucked in his breath and held her by her hips, flipping them as quickly as he could manage on his bum knee. He hovered over her, his hands on either side of her head, shielding her from the hoard. “Should’ve left a bullet for me.” He mumbled, his breath close to her lips. “You shouldn’t have stayed, Em. Really fuckin dumb move.”

“You would’ve stayed for me.”

“I’m dumb.” He shrugged, forcing a smile. He could feel the heat on his back from the creatures behind him. They radiated like he was standing too close to the oven.

“You’re not.” She promised, touching his cheek. “That night Dean, on the roof... I’m...”

“Hey.” He stopped her with a shake of his head. “We ain’t doin that, okay? No chick flick moments. No need to go out like that.”

She sucked in her breath, but nothing could stop the tears that were steaming down her cheeks. He held her cheeks and kissed her as softly as he could manage. They had enough things that hurt. Enough harshness. Things with Em always made him feel light, and fucking hell if he had to die he could go out kissing her like that.

There was a noise behind them, a rumble, crushing bones, and screams from the creatures. He braced around her only moments before a hand curled around his shoulder. He sucked his breath in, and turned slightly out of instinct to look.

“Em.” He whispered, his mouth open.

It was a Jeep. A dark green Jeep had plowed through the hoard, some still reaching out, broken, from under its tires. A person was inside, dressed in layers, a black canvas jacket, dark jeans, boots, a scarf, a rimmed hat, and a gas mask. The person reached out a gloved hand for them. So much for no last stitch efforts.

—————

Chapter Twelve 

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[ancientbrit]

Natter #11   12/2/2020

Gordon Polson <ancientbrit2@gmail.com> Wed, Dec 2, 2020, 11:04 PM I am not sure how this will work out as I am not sure what to write anymore. Apparently, the last one must have gone over like a lead balloon and as there are no clinics to draw topics from I tend to write about things I think you might appreciate. It looks like I guessed wrong last time. Right now I am in the midst of editing the old Natters - all the Natters that is that we have been able to recover. Unfortunately, there are some still missing and I think that they are probably permanently gone now. However, there are something over 120 now available with grateful thanks to Tom & Jo, Janet and Carin, who resurrected all those we now have available. It is interesting to read back on them, some I find are likely to still be of interest - at least I hope they will be.This Summer I was positive that my banana palms would produce fruit as they went through last winter with most of their stature intact. This meant that they would be starting their growth from high up with all that potential in their "trunks" which normally indicates fruiting possibility. I kept hoping as the warm weather turned hot but still nothing. Then last week Jean asked me about the weird-looking lump in the middle of the clump.  It was only visible from her bedroom window and when I checked, there were the unmistakable rows of bananas preceded by the large oval flower bud with the point on the end, looking something like a large bird's head. At the same time, I realised that my largest Brugmansia., which had bloomed it's head off all summer planted in the garden, was now devoid of all of its leaves, but the buds (all 35 of them) were still hanging on and twenty eight of them are now open and blooming away! Yet another variety, that I was given by the 'Duchess", which is a variegated type with white blooms, had been left outside in its pot last winter, so of course, it was cut down, leaving just dead stubs. Halfway through the summer, I noticed new shoots just emerging from the surface and right now it is almost two feet high. I intend to leave it again all winter just to see if it will make it. The big “Charles Grimaldi” will surely die back as it is more exposed and it is too big to dig and return to the greenhouse where it spent last winter, but at least I have taken cuttings which are ridiculously easy to root One of the more interesting facts which I re-read dating back to 2012 was regarding the word 'sequester'', which I have used without really understanding it's meaning accurately This example involves the production of material from gaseous carbon dioxide. Apparently, a Dutch biologist planted a willow sapling in a pot containing 200lbs of compost and over a five-year period the sapling was only given water - nothing else. At the end of the five-year period, the sapling was removed, cleaned and weighed, topping the scales at 169lbs.The compost was removed from the pot, returned to the same state of dryness it had been originally and then also weighed, coming in at 199lbs 12ozs! Not too difficult to see why trees are planted to soak up atmospheric CO2.

I just had an Email from a seed company back home in Devon, England where my folks lived. I have bought seed from them for the last couple of years and both Lucy and Alison have had plants that I grew from some of that seed. The mail was offering a 20% reduction on all seed orders before the end of December and I thought some of you might be interested. Their inventory is quite large and unusual and they can be accessed at PlantWorldSeeds.com. Bearing in mind the terrific run there was on seed last Spring and knowing how I was unable to buy any of the seed that I wanted, I will be taking my order there very soon. I don't know if the 20% reduction only applies to me as a former customer or not, but if any of you would like to buy and find that the reduction doesn't apply to you, you can always let me know what you want and I can run the order with mine for the reduction benefit. just let me know ASAP so that we can get in under the wire. One of the stimulating things I re-read was regarding the natural enemies of the Brown Marmorated Stink bug. There is a yellow & black spider, three different Praying Mantids with varying novel ways of dealing with them. One chews off their legs to prevent escape and then munches on it like a sandwich. Another injects a fluid that pre-dissolves all that interior pudden and then sucks out all the protein. And talking of protein, the BMSB is apparently more highly nutritious protein-wise than a good steak. I have no idea who first discovered that but I can't imagine biting one whilst holding one's nose. You've got to be desperate.

Over the last several months we have been visited by two beautiful cats - one a long haired tabby - very friendly and the other a gorgeous white long haired creature with slight  grey marking around it's head. This cat seems to be caught on the horns of a dilemma as it sits at various spots all round the house , just staring at us, but when you attempt to go near - he moves away. Last Summer he and Pickle had a difference of opinion regarding just whose property this was and I had to step in and break them up before they took off. This hasn't fazed him at all - now he comes right up close and stares through windows where Pickle can see him resulting in some foul language. I also believe that he is rather frustrated as he watches Pickle shove through his cat flap - just above and to one side of my bed, but cannot seem to work out how this works. And so last week, after Pickle came through at around 2:30 am with the usual bang, White cat followed him and hammered four times on the flap and ran off. He has since developed the habit of sitting just the other side of the flap staring in and Pickle is getting a bit paranoid. He hasn't used the flap more than six times in the last few months.

Then just a wee while ago, following a couple of days of strong winds, I was reading in bed around 1am. Pickle was sitting upright alongside me, watching the bedroom door - quite unlike his usual attitude, where he lays across my leg and sleeps.  I thought that it was a bit unusual, but was totally surprised when suddenly Big White Fluffy cat casually walked through the door, from the house side. I asked him what he was doing there, but he ignored the question, turning around and disappearing into the dark.

Pickle and I got out of bed and followed BWF cat, turning on all lights as I went, up and downstairs. no sign of him. I noticed that there seemed to be a slight cool breeze coming from my workshop and going in there I noticed that a new service door I had fitted was slightly ajar. I hadn’t yet fitted a lock, but just left a heavy chunk of wood leaning against the door to hold it closed. The strong winds had shifted the block and the door was swinging. I closed and wedged the door tight and fixed the lock next day, but from then BWF cat has never returned. I find small piles of white fur in odd places where he must groom, but no cat! Strange.

I think that I might try to get back into running a PeaPatch at Luther Burbank Park. I have no idea if there are any available right now nor how to find out with the CCMV closed up, but I have to do something. The raised beds that Jill has allowed me to use for some years have now been removed. I was told that she was afraid that I might get dizzy and fall off the edge of the raised ground - a six foot tumble over rocks. But I think it must be that their son has now taken up permanent residence in the house with his fiancee and they want to keep the coast clear. Reasonable.

Anyway, I need to do it as I currently have no place to grow veggies.

Sunday there will be a virtual re-union of those who attended the virtual clinics during the year - BYOB. Rather a neat idea but not to be compared to our bun fights. Another interesting thing that came to light in reading the Natters is that way back in 2013 it was proposed that advanced classes be offered leading to Advanced recognition for those who took it and possibly passed a test. The idea was approved and was to be pursued. 'Have to raise the question as it seems to me that there has always been the threat of MG loss purely because of stasis.Yet another point which should be settled is when existing MGs from outside States move to WA and wish to continue. Many have been turned off & away by being told that they must retake the whole  3 month class again including the $fee. This, I could sort of understand if they came up from Florida say, but two that I know of came from Oregon and how different can Oregonian plants be to WA?     Can we afford to be so profligate with trained and keen MGs, especially now that we will be missing a whole year of intake and possibly losing quite a few from this year too?

I have recently been in contact with a guy who was at my old school at the same time I was - just a year ahead of me. I have no idea how he found my details as I didn't know him at school, but we have been trading emails back and forth now for some time. His wife died recently so he is obviously now alone and I think this correspondence is good for him, I certainly enjoy it. The strange thing is that he lived no more than 1000 yards away from me and from photographs that he has sent I know the masters and most of the swim team he was part of - just not him. We seem to share a huge number of things in common. He also attended the same middle school that I did - well he had to, there was nothing else around. I had to remind him of the various staff names and subjects as he couldn't remember a single one. In biology, he sat next to one of my best friends - Dave Bellamy. His interests are similar. He and his wife worked in the States for years. They had Siamese cats too  He is interested in cars and he is rather lucky at the moment as his two daughters have taken charge of a sports car that he built and ran for years and are having it restored - just needing the glass replaced now and some final tuning work done on the engine. I was to have seen him when I was back home two years ago until my busted ribs and having to look after my sister intervened. Bedtime calls right now, but I am ashamed that I haven't maintained a more regular correspondence with you as I have in the past. I will try a little harder in 2021 - perhaps there will be more happening then - I certainly hope so.

Your fearless leader,Gordon

PS Don't forget - those whose CE levels are a wee bit below par. Don't leave it to the last minute. Talk to me.

[ecotone99]

[TH] I was a Lumberjack.

"I woke up at sunrise, the morning breeze gently lifts the curtains as I rubbed my face for a moment, wiping my eyes. It is not difficult to notice the total absence of clouds in the sky, the previous weeks were cold and humid, winter was still months away, so a milder weather would be welcome.

I put on my boots as soon as I got up, performing my morning rituals as I have always done for the last fifteen years, I took my axe that was waiting for me at the edge of the door and leave. The morning sun is pleasant, it had been a while since I left home without seeing my own breath, I took it as a good omen.

I said good morning to my daughter who always played at the garden early in the day, no matter how I tried, she always managed to wake up before me. I sweeped my eyes through the trees around the house, and started my walk on the demarcated trail. It's a simple job, I walk a few miles, get as much firewood as I can, bring it back home. No tricks, not much to think about, and to be honest, I kinda like it.

I have done this job non-stop for fifteen fricking years, without question, without failing a single day, until a few weeks ago. For the first time, in all my life as a lumberjack, the sentinels did not come for the wood. In the first week I thought it was just some kind of delay, even though they are the most well-disciplined group of people I've ever seen, it's not crazy to think there would be some delay eventually.

By the second week the wood was already making a good pile at the entrance of my house, but still, I kept my duty and continued to work as if nothing had happened, I had provisions for a few more fortnights yet, my daughter would be fine. And then, in the third week, that was when I had the first incident.

Another normal morning, I wake up at sunrise, rub my face, chock my boots, take my trusty axe, give my daughter a good morning in the garden, and follow the trail. I walk a few miles and feel a certain uneasiness in the woods around, I remember that I had problems with a family of bears a few years ago, so I ready my axe. I keep walking on alert until I reach the chopping area to get my firewood, cut a significant number, put it in my bag and prepare to bring it back, that's when I saw it.

Walking, just a few feet from me, did not appear to have seen me, but to be honest, I couldn't even tell because it had no face, that... thing, dark, alternating her walk between two to nine retractable legs, going inside to what I think must be his body, and the sound, the goddamn sound, I will never hear something like that. It screamed? But it was not just a scream, it was hundreds of them, as if there were a entire army of people screaming at the same time, that's when I ran.

I dropped my axe on the ground and I ran, I ran as fast as I had ever had in my life,the way back home seemed like an eternity, that miserable sound echoed in my head incessantly, I think at some point I came to stumble because when I arrived near my house, my head was bleeding a little, I did not mean to scare my daughter, so I just passed by her covering my face and saying that I had forgotten something.

It took me a whole week to get the courage to go back there, I needed to, my backpack, the firewood and the axe were just laying there, I knew I need to have them for when the sentinels came back. At the beginning of the eighth day after the incident I was determined to go back, I put on my boots again, got filled with some kind of courage, but on second thought it must be just a disguised fear, give my daughter a good morning in the garden with a false smile, and just went.

I made my way back cautiously, if I remember correctly, I must have taken twice as long as I would normally take, I think I was looking for any reason to turn around and go back, but I thought about my daughter, we needed that, so I continued. When I got to where the incident had taken place, I saw my axe and backpack with the firewood on the floor, exactly where I left it, they seemed to be drenched from the rain the night before, but I grabbed them, shake em up a little, and return home.

The way back was quiet, at least for the most part, when I was only a few yards from being able to see the house, I felt the same uneasiness as on the day of the first incident, a chill went down my spine as I squeeze my axe with all my strenght, only one thing crossed my mind at that moment, my daughter. I sprint towards the my house, through the shrubs and trees, and when I finally made it, there it was, I think at that moment my heart stopped for a second.

That thing, mere steps away from my daughter, she was absolutelly motionless among the flowers she likes to play with, the creature only seemed to stare, as if it studying her, but the moment it took a step closer, I fricking charged it, imbued of something that I had never felt before, I set off towards that creature, shouting like a complete maniac. I did not appeared to have intimidated it, actually, i think it started to face me, it's difficult to tell, that thing was so strange and unusual that i just assumed that it did. It let out one of those hellish screams that didn't even let me hear my own, but I couldn't stop, I was determined, and while it appeared to have some sort of... mouth open, I threw my axe with all my might.

It traveled a short distance, hitting it with full force and making her retreat almost instantaneously, seemed to have worked, the creature ceased its cry, exchanging for a sort of desperate mumble, and ran back into the woods at an unbelievable speed, again alternating between the number of legs, this time I must have seen at least fifteen. To tell you the truth, I do not remember very well what came after that part, I was in a state of absolute shock, only thing I remember is to go to my daughter and hold her for some time.

My next memory is of waking up in the middle of the night sitting near one of the windows at home, I was practically hugging my axe that still dripped a viscous liquid from the blade that hit that thing, I get up and go to my daughter's room, I see her sleeping peacefully in the corner, she always says she feels safer there than in bed.

Should I be in the fourth week now, or would it be the fifth? No matter, I still had provisions for some more time, but the lack of sentinels was really worrying me, I spent the day wondering what could have happened, was the Last Flame attacked? Are these creatures involved? No, It's impossible, they must have stocked way more than necessary and are spending it before coming to pick more up.

Days after the second incident I felt like I was getting paranoid, every moment I thought I had heard someone outside the house, watching, waiting for any slip of mine to ambush my daughter, they wanted her, and I was not going to let that happen. I even thought about taking her to Last Flame, we would be safe there, but I heard they did not allow refugees, and the road was relatively long, who knows how much of those things are out there.

That was my mistake, to wait... If I had just went at once, things could have been different, but no, I was afraid, so I sat and waited. They came on the fifth day after the second incident, started with some distant sounds on a cold, windy night, the swaying of the trees drowned it, would not let me hear clearly, but it was not long before I could distinguish it. Those screams, hundreds of them, coming from all directions, and they were approaching at great speed, I ran to my daughter's room, I held her quickly and put her in the living room, under the dining table, told her to stay there until I return.

I raced to the door, opening it and going straight to the great pile of firewood that I had formed just ahead, I don't know what led me to this idea, but it was the only one I had. I got as much firewood as I could carry and started throwing them around the house, making some sort of circle around the house, it was disorganized and full of flaws, the screams were getting closer and closer, the trees were swinging more and more frequently, they would appear anytime now.

The house was small, I managed to spread a part of the wood around the it and ran back inside, there was a small trapdoor in the living room, it led to a tight basement with only a few old furniture and objects that I never used, but now could be my only chance. I take my daughter again and put her in the basement, tell her to wait there as I rush back to the entrance with two containers I took from the basement, they were small, with a red liquid inside, they were given to me by the sentinels, "in case you might need it" was all they said, frickin' bastards.

I did not know if it would work, I didn't even know if the liquid did what I wanted it to do, but I had to try. I stood there, in the front door, a container in my left hand, my axe in the right hand, a very heroic moment, I would say. They had arrived, running like the infernal monsters they are, as soon as I saw the first approaching, I did not hesitate, I threw the container on the stack of firewood. It lit up in a high, bright flame, burning all the wood around the house in a chain reaction, those things seemed quite affected, they could not even get close to the brightest part, I felt a relief at the moment, but it had soon faded.

There were dozens of creatures, all around the house, waiting for the fire to descend to get their prey, the flame glow allowed me to see them clearly, curse them, all of them. There was no hope, I dropped my axe on the floor and walked back to the basement, entering it and closing the trapdoor behind my back.

I placed my daughter on the table where I am now as I write futilely the story of how I was killed for being a coward and failing to protect the only that mattered to me. They're up there now, these woods are good quality, it lasts some pretty time, I know I have have a few more minutes at most until they start pouring in here. If you have found these scriptures and are a sentinel, I hope you have the decency to go after these things and kill them, for me, for my daughter, for my home. And if you're not, well, I suggest you start running."

The recruit ended his reading, looking briefly at the sentinel who stood beside him, they glance.

"When do you think this happened?" The recruit asks.

"It cannot have been a long time ago, his body is just starting to decompose." The sentinel responds.

"But... His daughter is already a skeleton." The recruit says uneasily.

The sentinel is silent for a moment, the words escape momentarily, but then return coldly.

"She was dead long before this message was written."

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