#i should dig out the dragonfly i made one year

[fate-defiant]

g'evening tutuheads here's a lil' something in honor of the holiday

[b-blushes]

Surprise project reveal: POND!!!

Since the start of the year I’ve been working on turning one third of this flowerbed into a pond, hopefully for wildlife! I’ve done all the research, planning, and buying, and my dad has pretty much done all the manual labour due I’m disabled, ginormous shoutout to my dad! And to my friend for coming over to help me start digging out dead plants which needed to go before we could get started! <3 As you may know, I have been wanting to see tadpoles soooooo badly, and also have a patch of garden that is too large for me to manageably maintain, so I decided to try and create a new habitat for a plethora of creatures! I researched native plants and what they add to the environment (hiding places for tadpoles, baby newts and any other critters that end up in there, attracting pollinators (good for pollinators and also good for creatures that eat them!), plants that newts like to lay spawn in, what kind of plant will provide year-round shelter and cover, etc) and designed the pond according to which I liked. On two sides of the pond we made a ‘bog garden’ lined with pond liner with a couple of holes poked in it so there was a liiiiiitle drainage, and then filled with aquatic soil.

I also added a shallow area for bees and other creatures to drink (I will add some more rocks to this though as the water level is high at the moment!), as well as making sure that anyone gets into the pond can also get out of it. I filled it with rainwater, so hopefully it will establish soon and I will start to see pond beasts in my garden!!!

The brooklime planted inside a container within the pond, and surrounded by gravel and shallow water, will grow across the pond to provide cover. Unfortunately I picked up a non-native horsetail instead of our native one by accident, but nonetheless it will be perfect for dragonfly nymphs to crawl out of the water and moult to become dragonflies!

I placed one water forget-me-not in the water itself, and another in the bog garden to see which they prefer. The one in the photo on the left went in to the bog garden first, and is flowering! Followed by the one in the centre photo in the water which is a couple of weeks behind. In the section of the bog garden pictured in the middle, is a native iris and a native marsh marigold (closeup on the right) which will both flower yellow - behind these I'm going to build a log pile as additional habitat and a place for any creatures to take shelter in a cool, damp, protected place.

Also in the bog garden (along the long side of the pond) is native water mint which will flower pink, and a corkscrew rush which appeared in one of my mums flowerpots so needed to be transplanted somewhere else. (It's being shadowed by another self-set teasel, that one should flower next year!)

Water crowfoot inside the pond! These will grow much bigger and have white flowers too! The pond is very fresh (the water has only just cleared enough from planting to be able to see to the bottom properly in the last couple of days), so I’m looking forward to all the plants getting huge and seeing flowers too. It’s also within an existing flowerbed, so this year it looks as if at least one self-set teasel will flower next to the pond (they flower in their second year), and I also planted an ornamental sage to provide shade to one end, as it’s in quite a bright spot and I have another of these growing elsewhere which overwintered really well and is so bushy! It was also buzzing with bees and other guys last year, and flowers for a really long time.

I think that's everything! I'm so excited to have gotten to this point, I've been dreaming of my own pond for years, and I'm hoping I designed one that will end up being home to lots of creatures that I can watch! :') I can't wait for it all to establish and hopefully becoming a bustling ecosystem.

[plutoswrath]

i’m jealous of your big heart when it comes to animals lmao. i’m arachnophobic and it can be so annoying to have sometimes. i haven’t been able to tie it back to astrology, as much as i would like to. i asked because i was wondering if there was a clear indicator based off certain placements like how 6th house rules animals, 6th is ruled by mercury so i jumbled them even though i probs shouldn’t have lol. and with venus it ties to personal taste so i wondered if it could indicate a liking towards a certain animal. i have sag and sag venus in 6th and embarrassingly enough, i was obsessed with horses. like i came out of the womb adoring them. as soon as i learned to talk i was a walking horse encyclopedia. my obsession died down. i’m not a horse girl, i swear on my life.

i agree with you about the cancer loving animals. animals are babies and momma cancer loves to nurture the babies. i feel like cancers are the most likely to hate the “are you a dog or cat person” question. they’d get offended because how dare someone assume their heart isn’t big enough for both. more than both, really. throw a turtle in there. a rabbit even. cancer asc peeps usually have a shit ton of animals. it’s probably the sag/abundance in the 6th. or they either own a horse or Great Dane. but this is off topic because i forgot i had a follow up question.

if you could tie an animal or a couple animals to each sign that you think best represents that sign? or just seems like one they’d like? some are so easy and others just leave me blank. my arachnophobia thinks scorpio’s deserve better than scorpions but my terror blinds me. but i was looking up the symbolism behind animals and tying them to signs. so far, i’ve concluded that while horses should go with sag, their highly intuitive and empathetic animals. their behavior is like a mirror so if you’re nervous, they are too. so pisces or cancer actually seems to be a better fit. and to stay on topic of cancer with animals, i always tie wolves and dogs in general to cancer. the wolves are tied to the moon and familial dynamics and also i think they’re a great symbolic opposition to leo and how leos tend to resemble cats. sun and moon, dog and cat, night and day, that sort of thing. i realized i’ve rambled but i’m looking forward to your opinion because i’m so lost on what other signs would have. it’s been a year old question in my brain and it’s time for help from the master.

I'm sorry to hear that, I'm had a friend once who was arachnophobic and having phobias like these is really no fun, I can't imagine what it feels like really having them. And omg don't feel bad for liking horses when you were a child, literally so many children, especially young girls, like horses simply because people decided horses where a 'teenage girls only' thing somehow?? (and I will have to dig deeper into this at a point because here where I come from the horse girl thing is soooo painfully real and I want to understand the phenomena). And if I'm not mistake, arachnophobia (like most types of phobias), stem from some kind of trauma right? I absolutely don't try to get to personal but if we look at phobias in that way, maybe it's good to also include looking at planets/asteroids that point to trauma or aspects that can represent/indicate traumatic experiences in that sense! And I agree wholeheartedly to the 'dog or cat' question, I don't get offended by it but I hate this question in general because every animal deserves my love and empathy adfghj and yes, mother feelings definitely play into this haha! I think cancers enjoy (to an extent) having that occasional (or constant) outlet for their nurturing side and the bound you have to animals is also very intuitive and requires a lot of patience and getting educated as well as being observant and reading between the lines somehow and all that dedication paired with emotional knowledge just really speaks to water signs in general (and animals don't judge openly with words, just your energy asdfgh) Uhh, I like the question regarding the animals and I agree with your takes on it so far!! I think one animal can not represent all the core traits of a sign alltogether, but I'll try my best here! and psdfghj no need to call me master because I'm literally so far from anything close to that but thank you so much still, I feel honored really!!

The Signs as Animals:

Disclaimer: some of them are inspired by my ‘the Wild Unknown Animal Spirit’ tarot deck.

Aries: House cat. I know, I always thought cats actually link pretty well to Aries! Cats are just the perfect mixture of intelligen and curious, reserved, stubborn, aggressive, senstive as well as playful/impulsive! They are quick to learn and not afraid to face off against any other, bigger animals, but also can live pretty well together with other pets in the house, as long as they don‘t bother them too much. Especially when it comes to intimacy/pda they are very picky, but forceful when demand it. Seem flexible and unbothered at first but actually have the firmest boundaries when it comes to their personal freedom. Will let you believe they need you but give it a few weeks and the neighbor has better treats than you and gone they are asdfgh, but it's actually a harmful stereotype to believe that cats don't need you because they can become extremely fond of you and grow very attached.

Taurus: Elk. Based on the interpretation of my tarot deck. The elk represents earth energy, it is grounded, is established in itself and knows their core values and acts according to them. They show consistency, coherence and care. Dedicated to who they love and what they care for. Can become narrow minded due to knowing what's best, based on their perception of what's right and necessary, which can effect their ego negatively. Very Taurus for me. Gemini: Dragonfly. I refer to the interpretation of the Dragonfly based on my tarot deck. The dragonfly represents the mind: everchanging, quick, fascinating, a reflection of the world inside us and aroudn us. As the dragonfly is very quick (refering to Mercury's fast and nervous energy) the dragonfly also calles for paying attention to what quality our mind has and to become mindful, because on first glance things always appear different tahn on first glance (Mercury floats between detail-oriented and paying attenetion and being too fast, impatient). The dragonfly is joy and magic, as well as impatience, restlessness and being unable to concentrate. Cancer: Killer Whales (but also whales in general)! I thought especially about Killer Whales, because I once watched a documentary on them and they went in depth about how they have different cultures and different languages even (if I remember correctly) in their familys. Cancer often gets associated with the home life, but I think I wanted to look at it from another perspective, as in how does family 'become' family and how do those family roots develope, what do they consist of, how do we define family and what holds it together (and especially: how do our roots shape our own emotional patterns and nature in life?). I think the mystery of the Killer Whales but the whole complexity that lies behind the fascination of how these animals function and also how deeply affected Killer Whales are by their emotions/when they are absent from their kin, just opens up another big question of family dynamics and how we relate to one another and how principles we always condoned to human beings now apply to animals too. I think the whole part about the Killer Whales relation to emotions and their family's cultures just really made me link them to Cancer. Leo: Otter. I refer o the meaning of teh Otter based on my tarot deck. The Otter resembles the energy of the inner child: it's pure bliss, playfulness, they love to live and live for life itself, and out of this eagerness to enjoy life comes also a contentment and completeness towards life itself. To reconnect with otter energy, it is advised to step into settings of celebration, or total creative self expression and from the outside looking 'unproductive/selfish' indulgence. But actually, this energy is what makes life so enjoyable in the first place.

Virgo: Octopus. Highly intelligent beings that can quickly adapt and take the initiative. Self sufficient by nature, they aren't aggressive unless provoked, they like to mind their business unless they get curious (then they cling heavy onto you because you are their new object of interest). They can change color if it's needed (Virgo is a mutuable sign and can blend in perfectly in social occasions/new situations) and tbh the inking part about octopus just reminds me of the fact that most Virgos have a really quirky side to them you only get to see when you annoy them long enough (aka you are a long term friend). Libra: Gazelle. I refer to the meaning of ten Gazelle based on my tarot deck. The gazelle combines the creation of beauty and harmony, creativity and hyper awareness of it's surroundings, very affected of the imbalances in it's environment, but in it's try to remain this beauty around them, they tend to forget their achievments and stay in the present with their thoughts, as they constantly wheigh out the 'what if's'. A very perceptive animal in the tarot deck and this attribute is equally it's strong suit and downfall. Scorpio: Tiger. I refer here to the meaning of the Tiger based on my tarot deck. Waits in stillness and darkness to reconnect to their own inner power. Healing in isolation with the help of the lunar forces, waiting to regenerate. The Tiger energy shows itself in being passionate, sensual and stepping into ones own power, recognizing ones strength. For me, this is very Scorpio (Moon) for me. When the Tiger in unbalanced, it becomes overstimulated and acts according to this hyperawareness. Sagittarius: Zebra. I refer here to the meaning of the Zebra based on my tarot deck. The Zebra stands for an open mind, visionary and eccentric, new thinking, as well as being young at heart and expansion. I personally connect horses with passion and drive, because they are truly powerhouses. Based on the meaning of my tarit deck, the Zebra also is sociable, at least people find themselves drawn to the energy of the Zebra because it triggers their desire to learn, and I think this is something very beautiful Sagittarius symbolizes when they come into your life: be prepared to broaden your horizon for more. 

Capricorn: Camel. I refer to the meaning of the Camel based on my tarot deck. Camels here represent absolute dependence on self and being able to find the answer to problems in oneself. This self reliance and capability reminds me of capricorns, the camel is finding the 'cool' aka water inside of them and Capricorn is traditionally also symbolized as the sea-goat (which I seriously think should really be considered when anaylzing this archetype) and Capricorns have (imo at least) a rich emotional life, but it's just deeply locked within. The Camel represents showing responsibility for their own actions, regulating the self and circumstances around them as best as they can, which makes sense for Capricorns, ruled by Saturn they usually are confronted with task in their life. If the Camel energy is out of balance, it shows a lack of vitality, with Capricorn representing the senior age in life makes sense, especially since Capricorns can tend to feel very old (exhausted)- Aquarius: Platypus- and no, I’m not using the Platypus because ‚wow all Aquarius are so weird like straight up aliens 🤪🤪’ I think the platypus is a good representation because it makes us question what we’ve known so far about animals and Aquarius too is a sign that introduces us to new ideas and perspectives all in the favor of progress and considering alternatives, leaving the status quo. Pisces:  Raven/Crow. I name these two in particular because as far as I know it’s only the ravens that have been documented intimating people’s voices and tones, but crows are definitely more known for their bright mind. For me people often forget Pisces mutable nature and how quick witted they actually are. These birds are hyper intelligent and their observational skills are truly amazing. In my Wild Uknown Animal Spirit deck, the crow is an animal carrying 3rd eye energy. Here, the view is clear, the crow is moving through different dimensions and sees what other’s cant. For and the emotional depth (void) Pisces is conencted to it just seem to make sense. 

[desperationandgin]

Strawberry Wine (Part 1, Chapter 10)

Rating: Mature

Author: desperationandgin

Previous Chapter

Also Read On: AO3

Summary: Claire and Jamie settle in their separate locations and write to one another.

Chapter 10: Kisses With Dreams

September 1, 1938

Jamie,

I promised I would write the moment I moved into my dormitory, and I can assure you that my unpacked suitcase is at the foot of the bed. Thank you for the surprise photographs of us in my purse; I hadn’t realized your father took any at the gathering, though I’ve never been more grateful. I realized belatedly that while I had two wonderful photographs of you, I didn’t have any of us together. It caused a tearful moment on the train. Fortunately, there was a kind Reverend sitting beside me; he distracted me with his own recollection of Jacobite history. It was interesting, but only made me want to return to you more.

I’m no stranger to new beds in unfamiliar places, though this is the first time I can’t unloosen the knot that’s formed in the pit of my stomach. I’ve never missed someone before, with so much of myself. That last kiss at the station, in front of God and everyone no less, will have to get me through until December, won’t it? I think even Jenny blushed.

I hope you’re settling alright. Were you and Ian able to share an apartment as you’d wanted? Do you have a wonderful view? By the time you receive this, you’ll have started your classes; please tell me how you’re finding them, and I’ll let you know how school is here, as well, in my next letter. We begin on Monday, and I’m not sure if I’m worried or if it’s just nerves causing me to doubt myself. What if I’m not capable enough when it comes to real-life scenarios? What if I have the drive to help others, but am rubbish at nursing?

I already know you’re shaking your head in protest. It’s nerves, and by this time next month, I’ll be settled and things will be fine. That is what you were going to say, wasn’t it?

In half an hour, I’ll have to attend an informal dinner to meet my fellow classmates, so I suppose I should at least unpack a suitable outfit. I don’t want to stop writing; if I stop writing, then I’ll have to face the fact that you’re not really here, listening to everything I’m telling you.

Sorry for the smear of ink. I’m homesick, I suppose, only you are my home, and I already miss you desperately.

Please give my best to Ian. Write soon, and put me out of my misery.

Yours,

Claire

The weekend before I left for London, Brian hosted a two-day party of sorts for all the tenants he rented land to. It was grand and festive, with enough food to feed an army and no shortage of laughter. Old friends arrived, including a delightful man named Mr. Raymond whom I could remember cropping up throughout my childhood; someone who brought me rare toys and exotic candies when visiting. He hadn’t expected to see me, I knew, but still managed to gift me something unique: a dragonfly encased in amber. When I tried to find Jamie to show him, he was busy watching his father, gaining real-time experience as the future laird of Lallybroch. I was captivated by him, the way he drew people in. His eyes seemed to meet every single person’s in the room when he addressed the group at large, and he always seemed much wiser than his age suggested.

Privately between us, the things that could come out of Jamie Fraser’s mouth were like lines from old, romantic poems. Sonnets written in 19th-century fields of heather. The best part was that he always spoke true. He meant those fantastic things he said, and it made me love him all the more.

The first night of the festivities, we’d stolen away to a hayloft, drinking pilfered Drambuie straight from the bottle.

“Did you know this is the secret drink recipe of the Bonnie Prince Charlie?” I’d asked slowly, my speech a bit languid in my not-quite-drunkenness.

“Oh? I only ken my uncle Dougal enjoys the drink verra much, it’s why there’s so much of it for the weekend,” Jamie’d informed me before taking another swallow from the bottle.

“Well, when he escaped to the Isle of Skye, he was offered protection by – oh, which clan was it?” Pausing, I’d looked out at the sky, squinting before remembering. “Clan MacKinnon! Clan MacKinnon sheltered Prince Charles, and as thanks he gave them this very recipe.”

I had been given a kiss for my useless historical knowledge – and a bit more.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I sealed the envelope, fished a stamp out of my handbag, and neatly scrawled Jamie’s address, plus my own. It took a half-hour to settle on a suitable dress for supper, and I made my way downstairs, intending to keep to myself. Taking a seat at the far end of the dining room table, I listened as the rules of the dormitory were laid out (no non-familial men in our rooms unchaperoned, period. No alcohol except for one glass of wine with supper) and studied the other women. All of us seemed to be about the same age, and the one next to me leaned over to speak.

“What do ye think, could we sneak a flask in our brasseries and get away wi’ it?”

My eyes widened first at the accent, and then at the suggestion.

“You’re Scottish?” I asked somewhat dumbly.

“Aye. What gave it away, the accent or the flamin’ red hair?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, though I stifled it quickly to avoid the attention of Mistress Hildegarde.

“My name’s Gillian,” my new acquaintance introduced herself. “We’re roommates, you and I. I was down the hall when ye were comin’ out of the room earlier.”

She had hair not quite as red as Jamie’s, a fair complexion, and definite mischief in her eyes.

“Maybe down my knickers,” she mused, and I hid a laugh behind my napkin. While eating (an unfamiliar to me meat dish and potatoes), I decided if I was to live here for four years, perhaps befriending at least one person would be nice.

I was proven correct over the next few days; Gillian was smart and took good notes, but had a penchant for knowing when to throw down our study materials and go out for a drink. On a Friday evening after the third week of classes, we were planning to go to the cinema until the mail call happened.

“Ms. Beauchamp, one letter, one parcel.”

When Mistress Hildegarde said my name and I saw the handwriting on the envelope, I apologetically canceled my plans with Gillian and ate my supper in record time before racing upstairs. The package was a square box, and I put it aside in favor of reading Jamie’s letter first.

September 17, 1938

My own,

You are correct; I was shaking my head at what you said of yourself. And was I right? Was it nerves and are you settled? I know you can do anything, and I am eager to read all about your classwork. Your roommate as well, is she a nice lass?

Ian and I are faring well and do share a small apartment. He’s writing to Jenny now as I write to you. A few things are as I thought; the Latin exams will not be very easy to pass with top marks. I’m not sure speaking Latin will come up much in daily farm life, but I suppose for Mass it will be nice to know exactly what is being said. At least it may be something that could impress Father Bain.

Hopefully, the parcel I’ve sent along makes it as well. Inside is a wee bit more than chocolate, all things I thought you might enjoy. I had the idea, as well, to take a flight to London before Christmas, then together we could go to Scotland for the holidays, perhaps even spend a night in Edinburgh before going on to Lallybroch. We can work out the details a bit closer to the time, it is only that I’m eager to see you now. Being apart from you feels as though something is missing – even at Lallybroch I felt it, on the days we weren’t able to see one another save for breakfast and supper, only not as keenly. I miss you, Sassenach, down to the very marrow of me. I’m glad you have photographs; I have one of you in my back pocket always. Sometimes, I need to see you.

Do not weep, lass. Soon, it will only be the two of us.

The next few months will go by in record time, though perhaps I will be able to find a way to see you sooner. I love you, Claire, and you’ll do well to remember it. Write to me soon, a nighean.

Yours always,

Jamie

His name was a flourishing signature, and down in the very corner of the page, he’d drawn a small heart. Touching it with the tips of my fingers, I smiled softly and read the letter again. It was comforting to read something so normal, that everything was going perfectly well so far. Folding the letter and tucking it back into the envelope, I tore the parchment paper off of the box next, removing the lid. Inside was something wrapped in pale pink tissue, and when I unwrapped it, found four white handkerchiefs with lace, scented to smell faintly of roses. They were beautiful, and only after closer inspection did I realize my initials were embroidered in the corner, though not CB.

CF.

After taking a moment to whisper my name with his aloud, I tucked one into my purse, another into my coat pocket, and slipped the other two into my dresser. Digging through the rest of the contents had me finding all sorts of different chocolates, beautifully hand-painted postcards of Parisian landscapes, and a book: The Postman Always Rings Twice. There was another note, written on the inside of the cover.

Sassenach,

I wasn’t sure if you’d read it, but you mentioned wanting a good mystery novel to puzzle out. This one is controversial, if you’ll remember. I read it, and I can see why Boston went up in arms. Don’t go getting bawdy ideas.

–JAMMF

I laughed aloud at his last sentence and laid the book to rest on the nightstand. Looking at my bounty, I quelled the urge to write back for a mere twenty minutes before sitting down at my desk once more. I went on about my schoolwork, about the things I was learning and told him about Gillian, then reassured him all was well and I had indeed settled. I promised to write more once I’d finished the novel, then changed into my nightgown early, tucking into the book. Hours later and over half-way through, Gillian returned home, letting herself in and flopping down on my bed across my legs.

“Have fun?” I asked, putting down the book for now and stretching.

“When isn’t watching Fred Astaire a delight? Though, it wasna the best of his films, ” she informed in response, filling me in on the plot of Carefree. I half-listened, my thoughts on the book, which she called me out for.

“Where’s yer mind, Claire? Surely a book cannae be that good that ye–” Her gaze drifted toward the box, eyes wide by the time she looked back to me again. “Is that from yer fella, then? Let’s see, what did he send?”

As I proudly showed off my bounty, she touched the embroidery on one of the handkerchiefs. “Yer wee fox cub truly wants ye, I’m jealous. Does he have a brother, by any chance?”

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “Only a sister.”

“Is she available then?”

We laughed at the joke together before scrubbing our faces and turning in for the night, a picture of Jamie tucked under my pillow.

The weeks rolled by, my latest letter arriving on October twelfth. It was short, mostly about how hard he’d been studying and all of the places to eat he was eager to take me to. There was no parcel this time, but he promised something would arrive in time for my birthday.

On the twentieth, I could hardly sit still in my classes, eager to get home and see what had arrived for me. As soon as my day was over I raced to the dormitory, calling out even as I opened the front door.

“Mistress Hildegarde, have you got any parcels for me?”

Her voice rang out from the parlor. “Yes, I would say so, Ms. Beauchamp. Come, it is here, with me.”

Removing my hat and placing it on the hook near the front door, I was pulling off my gloves as I entered the room and paused in shock. “Wot?”

“Mind the rules, my dear,” Mistress Hildegarde reminded on her way out of the room, and I merely nodded, a slow smile spreading so wide it made my cheeks hurt.

“Happy birthday, Sassenach.”

NEXT CHAPTER

[seriouslyextra]

some PSYCH prompts!

feel free to adjust wording/pronouns/etc as needed!

“are you sure there’s nothing of lower priority for me to handle?” “first thing’s first: where do i get a juice box, and does it come in grape-a-licious?” “does it smell like teen spirit in here?” “you’re an authority figure, act like one.” “i can sense that you’re lying. the spirits tell me that your little pants are on fire.” “look, if i understood what you guys are saying, i’d still be a virgin.” “it was a single shenanigan! technically more of a hijink.” “remember: you treat a woman like a person, and then a princess, and then a greek goddess, and then a person again.” “maybe this is what closure feels like?” “you know i’m afraid that being wrongfully convicted is the tragic way my story ends!” “can’t we come up with a term that covers both killer and arsonist? how about arsassin?” “how can you tell that someone is a compulsive liar? i mean, assuming that their pants aren’t on fire.” “he’s allergic to rich white people, sorry.” “you haven’t gone to bed, have you?” “kids your age should not be cooped up inside playing video games all day. you should be outdoors feeding pigeons and driving with your blinker on.” “you were wrong! wrong wrong wrong! finger guns! wrong!” “a lotta people wanna kill me. i take great pride in that.” “this seems dangerous.” “is this the part where i’m supposed to giggle because your boyish charm is just too irresistible?” “sorry, no time for your tomfoolery and silliness. that also goes for your nonsense, malarkey, and shenanigans.” “who are those people, and why?” “i think we should all go out and celebrate! as soon as i’m not naked anymore.” “someone better start telling me something because i’m in the mood to staple heads.” “i’ve never met a man who’s so big he can’t hide behind a plane.” “you totally manhandled me. i lost a shoe.” “do not mock me when i’m about to be killed, [name].” “he surrendered when i walked in.” “what? are you kidding me? did you come here to kid me?” “it’s like taking candy from an enormous baby.” “you’re right. i literally have nothing left.” “that’s the spirit!” “i haven’t made my bed in fifteen years.” “maybe you’re right. maybe i shouldn’t have come back.” “you mostly deserved it.” “i can do anything i want.” “we made a deal to never grow up, and i held up my end like a champ.” “you don’t have to kill your inner child. just take responsibility for your decisions and the way they affect others, you muttonhead.” “we are going to use impulse control, which is the act of controlling one’s impulses.” “i would rather fall in love with a vegan.” “look, this lack of animosity between us is kinda freakin’ me out right now.” “i don’t owe you an explanation.” “i happen to be a big fan of the awkward exit.” “i am the cream in a crying sandwich.” “it’s time to make trouble. sloppy trouble.” “i have the tenacity of a swiss fox and the instincts of a dragonfly.” “you would rather lose her than see the possibility of harm come to her? you love her that much?” “i don’t know any other way to love.” “color me impressed!” “i’d rather color you with a variety of edible body paints.” “just so you know, if you go to prison i will not wait for you.” “you owe me $31 because you licked the sugar off all the powdered donuts, like a weird sicko.” “i just got verified on twitter.” “we are all the real housewives of somewhere.” “you wanna see how long it takes this grape to hit the ground?” “i am going to kiss you on the mouth.” “my single greatest fear used to be that something would happen to me… clearly all of that has changed, so do me a favor and stop finding yourself in grave danger.” “just stay calm, okay? i’m pretty sure like 90% of gunshot wounds are psychological.” “here’s the good news: the body is actually designed for this sort of thing.” “you care about me. your heart hearts me.” “just remember you’re not going through this alone, okay?” “next time you decide to risk your life remember that there’s someone that loves you who’s worried sick.” “home should be where you are.” “wherever you are, that’s where i wanna be.” “you wanna know something else crazy? i am going to kiss you on the mouth now.” “live with me.” “if we get out of here alive, i will kill you.” “so, what’s my incentive to live?” “that makes me sad. and also really hot.” “i’m nobody’s charity case! i demand to dig my own grave.” “i’m good at what i do, and what i do is good. isn’t it?” “can you and your stupid hair let us in?” “well, that happened.” “a man can follow a woman because he loves her, okay? there is no rule or law against that and if there was, i would break it. and it wouldn’t be quiet. i would do it brazenly, and out in the open.” “you know you can’t just tell me there’s bad news and not tell me. do you know what my head will do?” “only good things happen when we dig for stuff!” “we dug our own graves.” “it’s delicious. i can’t stop putting it in my mouth.”

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

From the drafts...

I wrote this in the middle of the night the first time I went swimming for the year, but went to sleep without ever finishing it. Now I’m posting it just a couple of days before what will probably be my last swim for the year. (Happening early this year. The pool cools fast and night temps in the low 50F will make it too cold for me.) Funny how that worked out.

I’m posting it as it is, rather than try to finish it. If I waited any longer I’d be in my post-swimming blues and not in the mood....

It’s amazing how, despite remembering I love it, I’m always stunned by the pure joy  I feel the first time I swim each year.

Actually, when I went swimming last evening it wasn’t just the first time I’d gone this year, but the first time since 2018. Skipping swimming last year was my first lost year ever. I’d never gone so long without swimming in my life, unless you count the time before I learned to swim. Since I can’t actually remember learning, and I since I can also remember an event that occured on my second birthday, I must have been very young. 

To say I love swimming would be an understatement. Swimming isn’t a diversion, but a part of me. All my life I couldn’t even look at water without the desire to leap in and dive down deep to the bottom.

 Any water. In fact I kind of prefer wild water. Growing up I’d swim a mile up river and a mile back every day in the summer. I’d swim around the boat, diving down to the bottom if the river and pausing on the anchor line to clear my ears. At the ocean I’d almost never be out of the water, enjoying storm tossed seas and rips, swimming out to something I think was a boiler off a sunken ship to climb about. Even the shallow streams on our mountain would have my lying in the water while I sifted through the silt for garnets or caught crayfish. I prefered the deepest of water, the coldest of temperatures, and the strongest of currents, but anything would do.

I can’t tell you when my need to go in started. Apparently as a tiny baby my father and grandfather took me on the river one winter day...and I ended up falling in. A year or so later I fell in again, but this one I remember. Not why I went over the side of the boat, but I remember the way the sunlight looked like through the brownish water and a rather startled fish I came face to face with before Pop hauled me out. On the ride home I was convinced I looked like a cartoon character frozen in a block of ice, because it was winter of course. Once at the beach while snowflakes fell I stunned my parents by running out into the surf in my snowsuit. I was alway jumping in, clothes and all, whenever I had the chance.

Now the pool was never as much fun as those other places, but I loved it too. The pool was ours, a private place right here and convient. As pools go, it has never been entirely tame. It’s tucked in the little woods, surrounded and overhung with trees. Once a grapevine hung down over the water so I could pick grapes when the ripened. Birds would take drinks and bees and dragonflies always flew about the place. There were the occasional snake that got in, despite the high sides, and always there were frogs, tadpoles, waterbugs and the like. Pop had rigged up his own filtration system that required less chlorine and aerated the water by spraying it through the air  at angle creating a kind of current and waves. With me the only person swimming in it 90% of the time, we could afford to let it stay a bit wild.

Now the pool itself started out ordinary enough. For a little while it was your typical above ground pool with a plastic liner. This lasted until the summer of the collapsing pool. Or rather, the twice collaping pool.

The first time it collapsed it really was an accident. It begins with my brother’s fear of water. Now, he grew out of that fear, but where my childhood instinct called me to water his caused him recoil. As a tiny child he would “swim” with me wearing his good life jacket. And this day he was doing just that while I say on a folding ladder I’d hauled into the middle of the pool to play on...as one does. 

I should confess  I did torment him without meaning to back then. I’d heard adults say they learned to swim by being thrown into water. Being a little girl, I thought these grownups might know what they were talking about. I figured that my brother just needed to learn he would be alright. I honestly thought I could teach him not to fear by towing him away from where he was clinging, warn him  to hold his breath, and then duck him under for  a instant before his life jacket bobbed him back up. 

Yes, I know this is horrible. I didn’t know it then is the trouble. It was only when I was slightly older I figured out this was absolutely the wrong thing to do. Unfortunately one summer of maybe a half dozen incidents of such stupidity caused permanent damage. I meant well, but it was the worst thing I ever did to him. Apologies I have made many times over the decades, and his own shaking off his fear of water anyway fixed nothing. He never has and never will forgive me.**

Anyway, my brother was afraid of the water, but “swimming” with me in his life jacket. He had developed a way to enjoy the water but still feel safe by crawling in between the liner and the pool wall. His arms would splash about but he’s stay dry. Until he started wanting some water on him, and took to trying to let water into his little pocket shelter...

This was a BAD idea. 

Those old above ground pools were really stable because of the water pressure and the liner being against the pool wall. A few splashes of water are no big deal, but once he started holding the edge of the liner below the surface of the water so it gushed in everything changed.

So, one minute I was sitting on the ladder I’d set up in the middle of the pool, about to go back to swimming. The next, the pool was collapsing in a great sudden whoosh, the sides literally scraping down along my body. The water was gone, the pool sides folded in, and my brother was missing.

For a second it was terrible. The part of the pool my brother had been was now flattened, and the liner was still holding a couple of inches of water. I thought my brother would be trapped in the liner, pinned by the pool side, and face down in water. I was scrambling, franticly trying to get him out. 

I shoved myself under the pool side, through the water, trying to get to him. At the same moment he came crawling out of the other side of where I’d gone under. He was crying but fine as Pop came running up. I just has scrapes on my sides, no big deal. But the pool was down.

I was still early enough in the summer we got the pool back up. Unfortunately for my parents, they didn’t take  into acount our curiosity. 

Somehow I’d figured out what had caused the collapse, that it had been my brother putting the water behind the liner. But thinking I knew wasn’t enough. I wanted to test it.

This wasn’t my first dangerous test

. Once I’d fallen out of a car my grandfather was driving. This was before seatbelt laws, so I’d not been fastened in, and I was maybe four. I’d gone to the bank with him, and was leaning on the door as he started to drive off. Out I fell, but I hung tight to the door so I guess I didn’t exactly fall. I pulled myself up even as granddaddy stopped.  

It was a close call, and poor my poor grandfather must have been terrified. So what did I do once we finished the drive home? I tried to recreate the incident, and I totally suceeded! I made sure the door was latched the same way and that I did everything the same. Obviously I didn’t want my grandfather to know what I was doing, but I wasn’t afraid. I’d held myself up before, so knowing what I was doing I was confident I would have no trouble.

Well, we were now zipping along the highway, which is different than a parking lot, it was a tad more trouble. Oh, I held myself up, but I did end up with skinned knees. It’s a miracle my grandfather with his bad heart trouble didn’t have a heart attack! I was elated because I’d been right about what had happened.

What can I say? I was weird kid, fearless and bursting with curiosity back then. 

With the pool collapse another mystery to solve, I decided to see if I could make it happen again. This time it would be safer. We’d know the risks. My brother wouldn’t be in danger as I put water in the liner without him there. He was in on it, but it was my idea.

Crazy isn’t it? I loved swimming but I was sacrificing my chance to swim for the rest of the summer just  to see if my theory was right.

Well, I was right. And also Pop was fed up.This was when Pop decided to build our own pool with no liners.

My family had a fiberglassing business, everything designed by Pop and hand built by us, so building the sides like a giant tank wasn’t that hard. He would also include flanges at the top and bottom if the sides, just to make it more stable. This pool would not collapse. Over the years hurricanes knocked trees on it several times and we’d just repair the breaks. 

TBH, I worry about that happening now with no Pop, no fiberglassig business, and  no other set of hands. It was easy then, but I dunno of I could do that kind of repair myself.

Pop had one other  idea. Because I was always complaining the pool wasn’t deep enough, we would also make it an underground pool!

Now with mechanical equipment this would have been easy, but we had shovels and four people, two of them children. So we dug. And dug. And dug. If you look at  the pictures I posted of the pool you can see how bumpy it is. That’s because of the digging by hand, not Pop’s fiberglassing. 

When we’d dug it six feet or so down, slopping from the sides, we fiberglassed directly onto the ground. The weight of the water would hold it safely down, but if it was empty or nearly so rain or pumping out for cleaning too close to the pool might float it up. If that happened it would crack any place it was unsupported when filled. So Pop came up with the “hatch” that would blow and let the water into the pool rather than floating. In all the many years the hatch has blown a couple times, but it always did it’s job. 

The pool would never be as deep or as wide as I’d like, but I’m not sure any pool could. 

 Back then I could practically live in the pool, swimming for hours, swooping back and forth across the bottom, clinging to the “hatch” at the very bottom as I tested how long I could hold me breath. 

Actually, holding  my breath five minutes was ordinary and  my swimming endurance was incredible. People could swim faster, but no one could swim longer than me. I wouldn’t even seem to get tired. I actually longed to swim the English Channel because it seemed suited to my talents. 

How much did I love swimming? Well, when I graduated from high school we could pick from a long list of symbols representing school activities to go on  the side. So what did I come very close to picking? Not the academic crap you’d expect from the top student, but the swimmer. Our school didn’t even have a pool! Swimming had NOTHING to do with school, but it have everything to do with me.

Even now I think I am happiest gliding across the bottom of the pool. I play games with it. Swim across the bottom with just your arms, or just your legs, or one leg or one arm. One of the first things I did this year was see if I could still do the undulating, no arms amd no legs just wiggle your body method. Yep, I still can be the human porpoise! LOL

So swimming always meant a lot to me. Sure, after the “Halloween Hypothermia” (not actually at Halloween or hypothermia) where I got way too cold swimming my system rebooted over night so I couldn’t take cold water, but my love of swimming was unchanged. I just got so my swimming season was shorter. The idea of not swimming for a year was unthinkable...

Until it happened.

I really feared I would never get the pool clean again, now that I have to do it alone. Getting to swim this year is beyond wonderful. At least I haven’t lost swimming like I have lost so much else lately.

**I could point out his grudge over something I did when I was just learning my multiplication table isn’t exactly fair. It’s rather less fair when you consider the things he did to me over the years that I never hated him for. He did a LOT of things as the suffering he went through in school twisted him into someone burning with rage.

I mean, when he put a loaded gun to my head and threatened to kill me, yeah, it wasn’t fun, but I also understood the context, that he was using me as a focus of other frustrations and pain. I didn’t hate him, I just wanted him never to get his hands on a gun again and for there to be some way to make things better for him. 

I guess though, it all boils down to his nature.  He remembers every wound and slight, sometimes imagining them even, and he never, ever forgives anything. 

[tara-the-quiet-bookworm-2016]

Cycle Chapter Three

Authors Note- And look at this I am here again with Chapter 3 in tow. Now, in this chapter things will get a little interesting, a little dark but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Also, since I’m in the habit of putting warnings in my Authors Notes like this, this story with have things such as stalking, and really dark thoughts. But, in all honesty I hope that don’t deter you, now that we got that out of the way here is chapter 3 of Cycle. Enjoy!

Chapter Three: What If I Followed You Home?

You. It was the first thing he thought about when he went over the edge of that roof with the deviant. And it was first thing he thought about when he slowly reactivated. You.

Something about you called out to him. Something about you wanted to haunt his every thought, and part of him couldn’t help but embrace that when he knew he should be concerned. But he wasn’t... in fact since the moment you first entered his thoughts he found himself wanting to know more about you, but his objective, his purpose kept him from that. Now however...

*Rebooting Systems.*

*Downloading Systems*

*Downloading RK800 Memory.*

ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR

*Warning System corrupted*

*Force Reboot*

“Rebooting Systems*

You frowned as your eyes remained glued to the screen, toying with the necklace around your neck. Rows upon rows of code scrolling past. Something was wrong with Connor, lately he had been getting errors whenever you and the others tried to download his subconscious into a new body. At first you and the others merely thought it was a glitch, but after the countless time this happened you were beginning to get worried.

Tearing your gaze away from the screen you turned to where Connor lay, looking as if he were asleep. Jumping you turned to your computer when it let out a beep, indicating that the download was complete, this time things went smoothly. 

Getting up from your seat you moved to Connor’s side.

Static filled his vision when he first came on-line, static which slowly faded, and he was greeted by the sight of the very woman he wanted to see. Despite himself he found a smile breaking out across his face, his thirium pump skipping a beat as he propped himself on his elbows.

“How are you, Connor?” you asked, your ever present clipboard in your hands, pen tapping against it as you waited for him to answer.

“I’m fine. Though I take it Cyberlife isn’t too happy with me?” he asked, sounding sheepish.

“I don’t think the higher ups are ever happy...with anyone. Of course it probably doesn’t help that the number of deviants rises every day.” You said. “But enough small talk, let’s go through the basics, shall we?” you asked cheerfully.

Nodding enthusiastically Connor went through the same motions as the two of you always did whenever Connor was brought back to life, so to speak. 

Odd. You thought worrying at your bottom lip as you looked down at your notes, despite the recent errors he seemed to be in working order, but still...

“Is everything okay?” Connor asked.

Turning towards him you met his gaze evenly, you saw no point on hiding anything from him, or anyone. You recorded everything when it came to your work, your work on Connor was no exception and these constant error constantly bothering you.

However what good would telling Connor do? He was simply a machine there was a good chance that he had no idea about the errors, after all they only seemed to occur whenever he had to be brought back to life. Maybe it would be something you would bring up next time you were at one of the many, many meetings Cyberlife tended to have.

Forcing a smile to your face, you shook your head. “No, nothing just got lost in thought there.” You said, toying with your necklace. 

Deciding to let that go Connor swung his legs over the side of the bed he was laying on, his eyes immediately going to the necklace you were toying with. You didn’t have that the last time he was here, did you? 

“You okay?” You asked.

“I was just admiring your necklace, it’s beautiful.” Connor commented upon realizing he had gotten caught staring, his eyes still glued to the little green dragonfly on it.

“Oh, thank you. S-someone I-I’m involved with gave it to me.” You said, your cheeks flushing a light pink.

Involved with?

Connor’s LED flashed yellow as he processed this, blinking a few times. Involved with as in a relationship with? Confusion and something else formed in the pit of his stomach. You were in a relationship? Connor felt sick...

But it kind of made sense, from the moment he woke up today he noticed you had looked...different. Your hair that was normally in a messy bun was now in a braid that went down your back, your features were also different as well, you were wearing make up, you obviously liked this person if you were going through lengths to change your look for him.

“You recently start seeing this person?” Connor asked, he felt sick. His LED continued to flicker yellow continuously. 

“Actually he and I have been seeing each other for a while, today is our one year anniversary.” The soft smile on your lips, a smile Connor would have loved but now...

Now that he knew someone had your heart, that there was someone you loved he found himself growing angry with you. Had you ever considered his feelings? How he felt about you? You were the one good things in his bland, pointless life it seemed, nothing but you made him happy, and now? Now he had to find out that you were with someone else, when you should be with him? 

Gritting his teeth Connor glanced at you, as you busied yourself typing something on the computer, seeming oblivious to his feelings. How easy it would be to wrap his hands around your throat and-

No!

Connor shook his head, shoving those dark thoughts from his head, it wasn’t your fault, it couldn’t be. You had no idea how Connor felt about you, you merely saw him as a machine, as did many people. But, he had hoped that with time you would see him as something else, someone else. And in doing so he would be able to tell you how he felt.

Connor flushed, it was almost silly, he hardly knew you and yet...

This isn’t the end you know...

A voice whispered in his mind, and Connor felt himself calm down, his eyes still glued on you. He couldn’t be mad at you, you were tricked into being in a relationship with someone you didn’t really love, so you weren’t at fault, but despite this he knew he couldn’t just sit back and let you slip from his grasp. He would get you one way or another, he just had to wait, bide his time and wait. 

Connor smiled he had been built to hunt deviants, but it looked like he’d be hunting you. Getting up from his seat he wished you a good night and, with some difficulty, a happy anniversary as he headed for the elevator. Any other day he would have headed right back to the precinct, but that was not the case, he needed to dig up some info on you...

________________________________________________________________

Looking up where you lived wasn’t the hardest feat Connor had overcome in his short life, nor had hacking the Cyberlife files to find info on you. Imagine his elation when he found out that when it came to friends and family you had very few. You had a brother who lived in New York, parents were dead, no one would truly miss you if you did go missing, would they?

At least... not yet. And by the time they did notice you were missing you would be long gone, in his grasp, away from prying eyes. Away from people who would steal you away, and if he found that you didn’t like being his and his alone well... Connor felt a cruel grin spread across his face, as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Well, then he’d have to do everything in his power to make you see things his way. Even if that meant hurting you just a little.

But for now he would wait, and watch as he was doing now. His eyes glued to your apartment window, apparently you didn���t think to ever buy curtains as he could see right into your living room, and if you looked out you would see him too, though you probably wouldn’t recognize him as he had ‘borrowed’ some clothes from Hank. Not like Hank would mind, or even notice as when Connor had gone to his house to borrow some clothes he was blissfully passed out on his kitchen floor, an empty bottle of Jack Daniels laying a few feet from him, his slobbering mutt Sumo cuddled up beside his master.

Out of consideration Connor at least helped him to his room, to his bed before helping himself to some clothes. Now, here he was, leaning against the wall of the building that sat across from your apartment dressed in a baggy grey DPD hoodie, beanie which covered his LED from any prying eyes, and jeans. Should you look out the window you would only see a young man waiting for someone, and if he really needed to he could hide in the bushes beside him.

He enjoyed watching you, to watch as you went about your business, book in your hands as you slowly paced around your living room. Occasionally toying with your necklace, however Connor found himself interrupted from watching you as someone pressed the buzzer, you also seemed startled as your head jerked up before moving to your apartment door. At the door was a young man in his twenties, wearing a tan suit, shoulder length black hair combed back. Black sunglasses sat perched on his head as he pressed the buzzer again. This time you opened the door, and greeted him by throwing your arms around him and pressing your lips to his.

Connor’s LED flared red as he forced himself to watch this. So this was your other half, Connor’s lip curled as he scanned the man. Zander Marlow, huh? Connor would remember that as he watched as the two of you head towards a black dodge charger, Zander proving himself the gentleman opened the door for you, in which you thanked him and climbed in, watching as Zander got into the driver seat Connor watched as the two of you drove off. 

Good, that meant he had time to snoop around your apartment, the question is...how?

Crossing the street he looked up at your building, there had to be away in...Ah ha! Connor’s eyes lit up when he found the fire escape, knowing which floor was yours he slowly and quietly made his way to your apartment. And what was this? It seemed in your haste to meet up with Zander you had forgotten you lock your bedroom window. Biting down on his bottom lip he slowly slid that open, casting a glance over his shoulders to make sure no one was watching him he climbed in.

Closing the window behind him, he took a moment to look around, smiling when he noticed the cute little glass figurines of various animals on a shelf. Turning away from it he looked around some more, noting bookshelves bursting with books, to your unkept bed. You obviously weren’t someone who kept things immaculate and he loved that, loved that you weren’t as perfect as him. Moving on he moved to the desk across from your bed, noting your laptop sat on top of it, as well as various pictures, including one that had caught his eye. 

A picture of you laughing, Zander standing behind you, placing a kiss on your cheek, both of you looked so happy...looking the picture Connor felt anger swell in his chest, then without thinking he tossed the picture across the room, it hit the wall with a satisfying crack, glass shattering on impact. He could make you happy, he would. He’d be everything you ever wanted, he knew you wouldn’t be too accepting of him at first. After all, he was only an android and no one really thought androids could fall love, he used to think the same way, and now...

Shaking his head he moved to your living room, pictures upon pictures of you and Zander adorned the walls and sat on shelfs, however there was one that caught Connor’s eye. Sitting on the coffee table was a picture of you, smiling brightly, your arms wrapped around a warm eyed German Shepard dog, you looked happy. Happier than you did with Zander, you looked breath-taking. Without a thought Connor slipped it into his pocket, he wanted something to remind him of you while he worked out the rest of his plan.

Heading towards the bedroom he caught a glimpse of another picture of Zander, first step of his plan, getting rid of him Connor thought as he looked at the picture once more, a scowl gracing his face as he made his way to the window, and he knew exactly how he would do it, then he would worry about how he would get to you...

[janelevy]

#3 + Rhekker from the fluffy prompt list... Hopefully you’re still doing those😉😊😍

#3 from the fluff list = “what did you do?”

summary: to celebrate their son’s fifth birthday, connor and ava take him camping, and it doesn’t take long for things to go awry. basically just domestic rhekker and them being the dorkiest parents ever!

a/n: i have no idea why i thought of camping. i guess i thought of the most opposite thing from being doctors in a hospital, and this is what i came up with. needless to say, connor feels a bit out of place in the wilderness haha!

When Connor suggested going on a camping trip to celebrate Charlie’s fifth birthday, Ava’s first thought was to ask him if he hit his head recently.

“Oh, come on, Avey. I’m not going insane. It’s just camping.” Connor was at the stove stirring a pot of macaroni while Ava diced onions at the counter behind him. He turned down the heat and set the wooden spoon aside, moving to face his wife from across the kitchen island. “I mean, how bad can it be?”

“Asking that question is setting you up for failure.” Ava pushed the onion pieces together on the cutting board, only pausing her work briefly to give him a giant eye roll. “Listen, I just find it hard to imagine Connor Rhodes, distinguished surgeon and proud Porsche owner, going out and— oh, what’s it called— ‘roughing it’ in the wilderness.”

He chuckled, but she didn’t miss the hint of exasperation behind his words. “Okay, first off, you also happen to be a distinguished surgeon. And secondly, we’re obviously going to take your car, not mine. We’ll need, like... a tent and whatever else. All that stuff won’t fit in Mr. Grey.”

“I still think it’s about time to sell Mr. Grey and get a nice, safe, dad car. Did you look at those links I sent about the Honda—”

“— the Honda Odyssey, yes, I did see those. More like Odyssey to imminent boredom, though.” Connor shook his head and leaned on the counter to meet her eyes, which were watering from the onions. “Avey, you know we agreed we’re not having any more kids. There’s only three of us. Why do we need a minivan? They’re so... bleh.” He shuddered and stood up again. “Anyway, you’re changing the subject. Don’t think you’re so sneaky.”

“Damn. Foiled me again,” she teased. “But seriously, Connor. The main reason I’m protesting this is because I’m concerned for you. You’d be uncomfortable for an entire weekend. Charlie and I would be fine. He adores mummy-son hikes, and I spent most of my childhood outside in the backyard digging up insects.”

“You also spent a lot of your childhood doing creepy fake surgeries on your stuffed animals,” Connor countered.

“It— it was practice!” she sputtered, unable to suppress the smile that formed in response to his smirk. “Anyway, that has nothing to do with what we’re talking about. I just want to do something all three of us will equally enjoy.”

Connor frowned then, his expression growing more earnest. “Avey, I already asked him what he wants to do. He... seemed super enthused by this idea. I’m not about to tell him no. I don’t care if I have to spend a few days covered in dirt and bug bites and whatever else. I want our baby to be happy.”

She paused in her work, setting the knife down and sighing. “Well, that changes it. The most important thing is what Charlie wants.” Without warning Ava circled around the counter to pull Connor into her arms. She sighed into his shoulder, turning her head so she could speak clearly. “He’s not really a baby anymore, is he?”

At her sniffle, Connor pressed a kiss on her head and murmured, “He’ll be our baby forever if we want him to be. Even when he’s the grouchiest teenager in the world, he’ll still be our baby. Even when he’s forty, he’ll still be our baby.” He gazed past her out to the living room, where their son was crouched on the carpet building towers with the big toddler-friendly Lego blocks.

“He will definitely be the grouchiest teenager in the world. With both of our DNA in him? Yikes,” Ava said. They shared a laugh then, and as Connor went to drain the pasta, she added, “Looks like we’re taking a trip to Bass Pro tomorrow to get some gear.”

Connor glanced over his shoulder, throwing her his millionth smile of the day. All these years, and he still couldn’t help grinning like an idiot around her. “Little dude is gonna be so thrilled,” he told her. And he was right.

Come next weekend, however, they were no longer feeling quite as thrilled about camping. They secured three entire days off, and they planned to savor every minute of them. So on the first Saturday in July, two days before Charlie’s official birthday, they packed up Ava’s SUV and drove out to the wooded shoreline of Lake Michigan and set up camp on a sandy patch near the water. Before Connor even got in the car, he had already layered himself with bug spray and sunscreen, and made sure Ava and Charlie were thoroughly covered as well. It was only after an entire hour-long car ride and unpacking at the campsite when they realized a smear of white zinc had accidentally been left on Charlie’s nose. Ava spent the rest of the day teasing him about it, and Connor waited until they were grilling hot dogs that night to retaliate and “accidentally” squirt a ton of sunblock all over her back. It got all over her tank top and hair, and the way she cursed him in between bouts of laughter drew him to take a midnight dip in the lake with her well within view of their tent, where an overstimulated Charlie had fallen asleep before it was even dark out. That first night swimming below the stars together, with dragonflies and fireflies swirling all around them, was perfect. They had never felt so far away from the city before.

Then came the next morning.

Connor was the first to rouse, rolling over to find Ava and Charlie still deep in slumber. He tousled his son’s hair affectionately; the kid had been passed out for several hours now. That had been bound to happen, though, considering Charlie sprang out of bed yesterday morning at 4 AM because he was too excited to sleep. 

Connor sat up and kicked the sleeping bag off his legs. It was fiercely hot and pretty stuffy in the tent, so his t-shirt was sticking to him like a second skin. He reached over to his things and pulled a pair of khaki shorts on over his boxers, grunting at the limited space and his sweaty, sticky arms and legs. This was not the definition of luxury, that was for sure. At least none of them had gotten any bug bites or ticks or sunburn or leeches or whatever else was out there. Nobody was getting any wounds on his watch.

He had to pee pretty bad, and thankfully Ava had found a campsite that had public restrooms close by to use. Connor had confessed he thought wiping his ass with a leaf was going a bit too far, and luckily she’d conceded. The bathrooms didn’t exactly have spotless marble countertops and hot water, but they were better than nothing. 

So Connor crawled carefully around his son, who was sprawled in between his parents’ sleeping places, and unzipped the flap on the tent (it was a fancy model, and he didn’t even want to know how much it had cost. Whatever the price was had to be too much. But again he had to remind himself— this was all for Charlie. That made it worth it).

Connor didn’t even spare a glance towards their supplies until he came lumbering back from the restrooms. And when he saw what was in front of him, he froze, jaw on the leafy ground.

It was all gone. Every last speck of food was devoured by... some kind of animal. Upon closer inspection at the tattered wrappers and claw marks left behind in the picnic table, it must’ve been a bear. Maybe two bears. Or wolves. God, what the hell lived out here? Connor gritted his teeth and spared the tent a swift glance. Ava wasn’t awake yet. Maybe if he was quick, he could take the car to the nearest convenience store and try to replenish all they’d brought.

But right then, to his horror, he saw his wife’s shadow sit up in the tent, and he heard her sleeping bag rustling. Panic roaring in his blood, Connor zoomed over and right as Ava began to unzip the flap, he stuck his head in the gap and smiled way too widely at her.

“Good morning, Avey! Sleep well?” he asked breathlessly.

She jumped back, startled by his sudden appearance. And of course, she smelled the bullshit all too easily. “... what did you do?” Ava replied, tilting her head as she stretched her arms behind her back and yawned. One eyebrow was up in a high arch, which was already a bad sign.

“Connor,” Ava said when he didn’t answer. Her voice was curt yet gentle. “Honey. What happened?”

He bit his tongue and gave a partial shrug. “Ahh... well... I- I guess you should see for yourself.”

Reluctantly he moved back and allowed her to crawl out of the tent and survey the remains of their food supplies. Right away she surged forward, hands scrabbling over the now empty tabletop. She grasped at empty, chewed-up wrappers, tossing them on the ground in shock and whirling back to face him. “This was supposed to last us two more days, Connor! I thought you secured all this stuff in the car overnight?”

Connor hung his head and let out a long, slow breath. “I... I forgot.” Then he sprang into action, darting back to the tent and retrieving the car keys. “But I can fix it! I’ll go run to the store right now and I’ll be back before Charlie even wakes up.”

Of course, as soon as that left his mouth they heard their son call sleepily from the tent. Then seconds later the little boy emerged from the tent, scratching his messy dark hair.

Ava forced a relaxed smile onto her face, going over to pick him up and hug him to full awakeness. “Good morning, nunu. Did you have sweet dreams?”

“Very sweet dreams, mommy,” Charlie yawned. He squinted his hazel eyes against the sunlight and buried his cheek in his mother’s shoulder the exact same way Ava nestled her face into Connor’s chest. His chubby little fingers played with golden wisps of Ava’s sleep-ruffled hair. “I’m hungry.”

“Don’t worry, little man, I’m gonna go get us something good to eat,” Connor said. He approached them and dropped a kiss on both their cheeks.

“You better,” Ava replied, keeping the threatening tone to a minimum for Charlie’s sake.

Connor unlocked the car and glanced back at her, offering one more apologetic grin. “McDonald’s?” he asked.

“Yes, McDonald’s.”

“I’ll be back soon. Love you.” With that, Connor got in the car and carefully drove off down the gravelly path.

Ava watched him go while rubbing circles into Charlie’s back. “Love you too, Dr. Buffoon.”

[phytolacca-a]

Writeup: First Non-PGM Spell Performed- Third or Fourth Spell Ever. 11/27/19

At the time of writing this I’ve just done a nine-knot spell written in the latter half of the Call of the Horned Piper. It seemed like one I could try out. This will be a long post. This is written directly after working- this post will be edited and added onto once I feel that either it had effects, flopped, or somewhere in between. This will be marked with “EDIT:”

EDIT: didn’t work (which is fine.) I’ve tried to divine on why and what to do better, although I don’t fully understand the “why” I got. If anyone would like to give their input on the “why” or try help me out in understanding it, it’s welcomed. Readings will be at the end.

Nine-Knot Spell, Intended for Good Business and Finance Influx

I saw mentions of business for what to utilize under Mercury and figured, since it’s a Wednesday when I want to try this out (and was told via divination to go ahead and try “tonight”- I did this at like 3am and ended maybe just before 4am so it’s Wednesday.)

Prep: I showered beforehand (although it took me a little while after to begin this spell. The book said to use a deep blue thread on Wednesday, and when looking up colors corresponding to Mercury I saw white. Since the only thread I have is much too thin for my preference of this I combined 2 white threads and 2 blue threads to both thicken what I was working with and utilize a number I saw associated with Mercury (4.) I asked one of my object-spirits to help me with this and strengthen the spell. I lit a candle and tried to get in the “working headspace” to do the spell so I stared into the candle for a while (trying to kinda meditate, but as I’ve said before I’m horrible at it.) Maybe 10 minutes? I can’t tell. 

Procedure: I then began to knot the threads. The book tells you to try to focus intently on what you want out of the spell while making it so as I formed the knots slowly I tried to run through and focus on what I wanted (again, business related, and also to land a job) and I allotted time with mixes of “immediately, immediately, (immediately), as soon as possible, as soon as possible, (as soon as possible.)

Each knot was pulled/made as I said the corresponding phrases given in the book:

“One to start the spell upon, Two to pull the magic through, Three to rouse it mightily, Four for power strong and sure, Five to bring the spell alive, Six the magic might to fix, Seven for the secret leaven, Eight to turn the web of fate, Nine the hidden spell I bind!”

At the end of the tying I felt compelled to clap 9 times (in intervals of 3.) Don’t know if it did anything other than make me feel as if it concluded properly.

I wrapped the thread around my wrist (as it says to wear on person if the spell was intended for you.)

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

Immediate thoughts on what I could’ve done better: 

Although I tried to start out in a better headspace to do this, I was still very anxious and that nervousness and anxiety did persist through the working.

I’m not sure how much the object spirit I chose out of the two that felt like they wanted to help could actually help, since I have no idea what abilities they actually have and if they can directly help me. I did say that if he helped me I would refill my givings to them tomorrow so I will. 

Right when I began to pick up the thread and tie it the object (with the spirit)’s head fell from being propped up against the wall and startled me pretty hard. I think it might’ve grounded whatever I had done with the candle (not sure if good or bad?) Will divine on later.

The book calls for the knots to be... regularly spaced. I, unfortunately, didn’t realize how bad I am at tying knots with the same spacing until I did this. The thinness of the thread(s) did Not do me any favors... and neither did my super long nails. 4 knots ended up directly back to back (2 each) and the rest were unevenly spaced (albeit better than the first 4.) We’ll see how much affect this has.

I feel I could’ve done more... Coming to mind is to directly call on the planet Mercury (something Maybe like “Mercury, I call to you on your day to assist me in my endeavors under you.”) and maybe done something with the planet sign? I cannot burn incense in my current situation so unfortunately that isn’t an option right now.

Speaking of my room, I think I REALLY need to cleanse it properly. The last time I did so was 2 years ago almost exactly. I need to cleanse it and try to ward it from things I don’t want in here.

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

EDIT: Here I will attempt to write out my readings I got via cards. This deck is supposed to be mainly used via intuition & visual clues, though there is a list of interpreted meanings added on later. I try to mainly interpret Without the list, but when I’m really stumped I cave in and see if they make sense contextually. I think now that this is how I read, the cards seem to do a mixed bag of intuitive & listed.

“Tell me exactly why my nine-knot spell didn’t work”

Well, I’m having a really hard time trying to figure out what this means. An interesting thing I notice after writing down what I can interpret is that this is much more of a chaptered reading than I initially thought. The Omen through Divining seem to = Prepwork. Consciousness through Earth = Right as I started and throughout it. The Dragonfly = The tying of the knots. At least The Soul = the ending & after, and I think Visitation might have been a misdraw.

I asked if I am supposed to take the moon phases literally or not (i.e. when I should’ve done the spell vs. their spiritual meanings) and got Not.

Here is the closest I can get to interpreting this:

The Omen & The Spider- I had too little assistance didn’t have a clear plan on what all I should do. (Based on guide)

Duality- Well, if his was more based in the guide, maybe something about..... black and white thinking? If this was based upon the feeling of the imagery in context, this could be that I was too unfocused; too scattered.

Death- In the next reading, the Death card felt like a higher spirit. Not sure if its meaning is the same in this context, but if so, this could mean I had not called on a higher spirit.

The Heart, Waxing Gibbous, Magick, Waxing Crescent- I think this is about my anxiety and not feeling deeply enough or bringing up intense enough feelings about what I was saying and wanting it to do. I think the Magick card being encapsulated by both Waxing Gibbous and Waxing Crescent mean that^ and that there was not enough energy being raised and used while doing the spell.

The Crystal, Divining- The given suggested meanings correspond nicely together, though I’m not sure on the clear message it’s giving.. The Crystal says “hidden treasure, the core issue, synthesis.” Divining says “a search, finding a hidden source, latent information, need to dig beneath the surface.” These together might indicate I could’ve divined more either before or maybe during it but didn’t..? There might’ve been important information I wasn’t aware of.

Consciousness, The Obelisk, Earth- I think this might be talking about how I might’ve been too grounded during the whole thing. Again, pointing back to the lack of raised energy?

The Dragonfly- I think this is talking about me fucking up the spacing of the knots.

Visitation, The Soul- I... really don’t understand, at least not Visitation. The Soul might have to do with my immediate feeling afterwards that it wouldn’t work and my immediate theorizing on what I could’ve done better. (Something of note is that I think Visitation is the card I pulled and felt “maybe that shouldn’t have been added” but did anyway. It may be a misdraw.)

“How should I do better the next time I do a nine-knot spell?”

Honestly I think this one is much more understandable. This, I’m pretty sure says:

The Hive- Utilize and employ your spirits better. (The Hive seems to be signifier to the little uh... “community”? I have.) 

Death- Utilize/Ask/Call to a higher power/spirit. (Feelings based off of the imagery)

The Obelisk- Get some sort of (better) energy source. <- This one I used the “meanings” list and used the one that felt right.

Waxing Gibbous- Cleanse! Do more cleansing of your space/things/yourself.

Telepathy- I think this means to work on my psychic skills, focus, mindwork, etc.

Conclusion: It didn’t work, but it seemed to be a very good learning experience. I’ll have to read back on this the next time I try this. -I’m assuming I might’ve been right that I could’ve called on Mercury to assist me, or maybe a mercury-corresponded deity to assist me? This would then be coupled with some sort of offering that isn’t incense which I’ll have to think on. -I was right I need to cleanse my room. -I also am thinking that maybe I should somehow do this magic (and probably other spells) in front of where my spirits are (which is sort of problematic but I’m sure doable.)

[rhosavirgoart]

Pay Your Dues, Part 14 (Finale)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

WARNING!!!! Trigger warnings for all the things, especially: blood, gore, violence, past trauma, and character death. The rest of the series has stuff too, but this chapter gets more brutal. 

There will be more to this story, but this section is done. 

  "No!" Myrn screamed, clawing frantically at the ground where Agondrae had vanished with Phelan, the last traces of magic dispersing into nothing. "No, no! Don't let this happen! Not to her, please, no...not to her...." 

  The words echoed in his head. Maebh, Domina mea, audite orationis meae! Maebh. Myrn didn't speak Sidhli, could barely understand simple phrases in the language. But he knew that name. Maebh. A sidhe queen head and shoulders above the rest. Agondrae was giving his sister to her. 

  The panic deepened, but it was joined by an almost giddy sense of purpose. There was a definitive place to start. 

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

  Lycaon sank down, despair settling deep in his gut. Everything had gone wrong. It had all backfired. There was no way he could fix this. There was no getting Phelan back. When Agondrae took someone, when the fae queen he served took them, there was no getting them back. She was gone forever. 

  Lycaon barely reacted when the elf descended upon him. Light kicks, nudges to get him moving, not to hurt. "Faerie ring. Nearest one. Where?" The words were weirdly garbled.

  "Fa-faerie ring?" What the hell was he talking about? Phelan was gone, why was he bringing up toadstools?

  "Large stones. Unnatural trees. Circular formations." Myrn was definitely grinding the words out like he was talking around a mouthful of water.

  "I don't---- Mason's Folly!?! Big crescent of rocks. Always cold. Nothing grows there." 

  "Yeah-sh." Slurred. Lycaon was sure he heard liquid hit the ground. 

   "That's very close, about a third the way to Sainne."

  "That be it."

  "I-is- that's where-?"

  "Faerie realm. Summoning. Hurry!" And the elf was off, skidding and limping haphazardly down the pitch black tunnel. Lycaon double check it was the right direction, and followed after. 

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

  Phelan was not a happy camper. Disoriented and sick, head reeling from the sudden shift in space. From the absolute darkness of the cave to the relatively bright sunset, surrounded by cold damp grass and a chilly breeze. She couldn't hold the vertigo down and vomited across the large, flat rock she landed on. 

  "Pull yourself together mutt," Agondrae's voice rasped. "You're about to meet a queen."

  Phelan snarled and bolted, paying no heed to direction, just to putting distance between herself and the draeken. A whisper trailed behind her. "Dona mihi magicae tuae." She stopped. Couldn't move. Joints locked in place. Her limbs simply refused to work; her own body wasn't under her control anymore. 

  Agondrae dragged the paralyzed werewolf back the few feet she had managed to get. "Kneel," he ordered and her limbs (if not her will) obeyed, forcing her to her knees before the large flat rock. Which she now realized was some kind of altar, with runes carved all along it's sides, and a door-way shaped of three long stones set atop it. She felt a tinge of satisfaction when the draeken noticed the mess she made and grouchily had to clean it up before moving on to the next part of his nefarious plan. 

  He was breathing heavier than before, had used a lot of magic. Maybe he would use too much and she could break free. He pulled a bottle of what looked like herbal oil from beneath his outer robe and poured some on his palm. It smelled strongly of mint and cinnamon. Phelan struggled internally to pull free of his hold as the wicked draeken began annointing the runes and chanting under his breath. 

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

  Each moment stretched into years. If there was any chance, it was now. Before Agondrae could breach the thin barrier between the realms of Faerie and Gaia Draconis, before he could bring himself and Phelan into that land, or worse bring his patroness into theirs. That barrier was there for a reason. 

  Lycaon grabbed Myrn's arm, pulling him back. "Careful, careful! We're quite close. Let's maybe be stealthy." Myrn looked over at him, nodded, and Lycaon was very glad when the elf turned away again. He had gotten one good look at the awful, gross black streams down the elf's cheeks and chin, mixing with the crusting blood. Yeah, no. Nope.

  "How fast can you run?" Myrn asked. "W-we aren't going to be able to handle this. Get the others. Please. That's--- I'm gonna try getting Phelan away enough for us to flee, but really? Agondrae's too much to handle. Get the others, quick." He wasn't trying to hold the weird ichor back and it hit the ground with each word. The grass shriveled up where it landed. 

  "I--I--" Lycaon hesitated. He wanted to stay, to fight Agondre, to get Phelan away from danger. But he'd frozen up in his presence. He knew how powerful the lizardman was. He had seen what became of those who stood in his way. They needed help. "Yes."

  "I--Just--get away. Run. It's the only chance."

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

  The symbols glowed in a sudden, blinding flash of blue light before fading to a softer glow. In the space between the upright stones was a shimmering, watery distortion in the air. A tear in the veil between realms. 

  Too tall, too thin, like a taffy-pulled elf, the feminine creature stepped out onto the stone slab. The air became unbearably cold, all warmth dragging away to her silver and sapphire draped body. Three sets of blue dragonfly wings flickered open and closed behind her as she took a deep breath of the now frigid air. She smiled, eyes flickering from the werewolfess to Agondrae and back again. 

  Phelan stared hard at the ground, pulse pounding. 

  Efelda was one of the few places where the realms of Faerie and Gaia Draconis were physically bridged. Born and raised there, Phelan knew exactly who this creature was. Maebh. Elder fae and most notorious of the Unseelie Queens. A sidhe with power and sway enough to rival any of the four Fae Kings, with just her one court. Maebh's other name, Goddess of Dreams, was misleadingly benign; nightmares were also dreams.

  Agondrae gave a low bow, laying out his cloak for the sidhe queen to walk on instead of the muddy ground. She ignored it, hopping off the alter with a tittering laugh, splashing into an icy puddle. The folk tales were based in truth of course; in the area where a powerful fae resided, the seasons changed to suit them. Maebh obviously preferred winter to the early autumn that had naturally settled over Imptula. 

  "Oh, he's delightfully hideous."

  "She." Phelan automatically corrected, daring to meet the queen's eyes. Clearest crystal. Palest blue. She couldn't look away. 

  Again the queen's bird-chirp of a laugh rang out. "Yet you offer no fight at being called ugly? Ooooh, methinks I like you, wolf-child."

  Slender fingers, much longer than they should be, patted her head. She wanted nothing more than to accept the cool, comfortable touch. A faint thought whispered that she shouldn't be at ease. Long nails scritched behind one ear and whatever alertness was stirring melted away. Phelan leaned against that kind hand, tail thumping happily on the cool grass.  

  "Tell me, what's your name?"

  "Mmmmmmmmmmm" She hummed contentedly. "Phe."

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

  "Get the hell away!" 

  Maebh's head snapped up, startled. She stared for a split second, taking in the haggard elf limping toward her, using a longbow as a cane, wiping runny eyes on his sleeves. An avaricious gleam came to her eye for an instant, only to be chased away by common sense. 

  "Too old. Such a shame." Wings buzzing to assist her, she hopped up onto the rune-carved stone. Hurriedly, nervously making for the tear she came through. The fae's gaze broken, Phelan scrambled away. Frightened. The enchantment, the lulling charm was gone in a flash. Maebh ignored her, pausing on the threshold of the gate. "Agondrae, there's no point in collecting this one. It's been allowed to mature too much. Kill it. Kill it quickly." And she slipped back to her own realm, the rip fizzling from existence behind her. The runes fell dull and empty once more. 

  "A blessing in disguise then," Agondrae purred, turning a baleful eye to Myrn. "She wouldn't have wanted you after-all, and I'd have needed to get the wolf anyway. This saves time." He waved a hand dismissively at Phelan, sprinting and stumbling in the opposite direction. "I've tasted her scent now. There is nowhere she can run I will not find her."

  "Now please, just be still." Myrn shivered, the chill not coming from the frigid air alone. There was definitely something in that voice. Something wrong. Agondrae strode forward confidently, hand slipping beneath his robe. "I promise this will be quick." 

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

  It wasn't natural, how those words wheedled in. What Agondrae was reaching for was a dagger. He knew it was a dagger, could see the shape of it even as it was drawn, but he couldn't move away. What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn't fucking move. 

  Agondrae chuckled, claws digging into the elf's cheeks as he forced his head back, exposing his throat. Myrn twitched, the only external sign that he was struggling to get loose. The draeken was unaffected, long tongue snaking out to taste the fear radiating off the frantically squirming but ultimately immobile elf.

  Sharp and cold and laid across his throat. Myrn swallowed convulsively. It was all he could do. 

  THUNK! THUNK! thwip THUNK! 

  One arrow missed, sinking into the ground between their feet, but the other three hit Agondrae in the side and back. As before, they did no real damage to his heavy hide, but it was a distraction. He swung around to roar at Phelan as she drew another shot back and Myrn wrenched the dagger from his claws, scrambling back. 

  "Damn it," the lizardman hissed. His voice lacked the ability to command like before. 

  The blade scraped uselessly off Agondrae's scales, barely leaving a scratch. Not even bruising like the arrows did. Myrn grunted with surprise. Those missing scales, the ones he had rotted away in the cave were back; healed fresh and shiny, no doubt by Maebh before he'd reached them. His plan to strike there, get the knife in and cause serious damage, flew away. He locked eyes with Phelan and ran, in the direction of Sainne. Claws ripped across his shoulders, snagging in his shirt, yanking him back. Teeth, so many teeth, and claws, and teeth; gnashing, biting, ripping, rending, hurting, bleeding, overwhelming. He turned his head away, shoving back desperately to keep the snapping maw from closing on his throat. Instead the teeth sank into his arm and crunched down. He screamed, gargling on the liquid filling his mouth. Wait. The liquid. 

  Agondrae let go an instant later, snarling. Blinded, possibly for good, the scales on his face melting away with a sickening hissing sound. The ripping hands were off him. Myrn kicked hard, pushing and shoving again to get loose, but the draeken's weight still held him pinned. In the desperate scrambling, a large scale near the lizardman's throat caught in his nails. Myrn latched onto the scale, working his fingers under it and getting a good grip. It came off with a gross ripping sound, exposing the soft, bleeding flesh beneath. Agaondrae roared, raking his claws across the elf's chest as he tried to get off and away from the pain. He swung, hard.

  Myrn took another scale with him to the ground but was knocked prone. Agondrae wiped the rotting magic from what remained of his facial scales, absolute hatred burning in his sadly uninjured eyes. Myrn snatched the dagger from where it lay beside him and curled up into a tiny defensive ball as the lizardman started back in with a new frenzy. 

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

  Phelan skittered to and fro, trying to find an opening, howling at regular intervals to give their location. Surely she'd have been gone long enough by now. Surely someone would have found her note and headed out to find her. There wasn't much she could do to help in her humanoid form, even with her bow; she'd be as likely to hit Myrn as the draeken. There was nothing for it now, just the awfulness of transformation. Bones cracked and shattered, flesh and skin tore apart only to reform in another shape as she turned herself over to the wolf side of werewolf. 

  Agondrae stumbled forward, the force of the large grey wolf slamming into his back knocking him off balance and straight onto the knife Myrn was striving to fit past the scales. He roared, shoving back onto his feet, breathing heavily and grasping the knife that was now wedged firmly in his belly. It was too far to the side; no organs were hit, and the blade was keeping him from bleeding too fast. A demented smile cracked over the grimace of pain. He spread his arms out wide and called once more for his patroness to aid him. To heal him. To lend him her magic.  

  "Let's go!" Myrn yelled to the clothed wolf at his side, rolling up and mad-dashing towards the ocean, the shore starting not far from the base of the Faerie Ring's hill. Maybe they could get away. Maybe the draeken was too hurt to pursue. Maybe was a slim, hopeless chance. 

  Myrn cried out, stopped in his tracks by what felt like a branch smacked him in the waist, knocking him down. But it wasn't a branch, and now the thick rope of  solid shadow had him pinned to the ground as it wrapped further up his body, crushing first one arm and then the other against his sides. Phelan had heard him and was running back up the hill as fast a possible, but even if she could have done anything she would have gotten there too late. Agondrae didn't bother with even a gloating smirk as he yanked the dagger from out his side with one hand and snagged Myrn's scalp with the other. 

  Myrn could feel Maebh's energy receding after the massive out-pour this trap had taken, the subtlest weakening in the shadow's hold. Not that it mattered. 

  Agondrae got in two powerful, gouging slices to his prey's neck before Phelan was upon him. He was absolutely exhausted and didn't fight her off as her claws raked against his scales. Instead he gathered what little strength remained to vanish into the ground as before, to flee to a safe place to lick his wounds. The gore covered knife all that remained behind. 

  Myrn's lifeless body, no longer held by Maebh's ethereal arm, began rolling down the hill a short way before being stopped by a heather bush, blood still gushing out. Earth Children were hard to kill, but there was no coming back from decapitation. Phelan's face was blank as she numbly shifted back to her human form. There wasn't anything for her to do, but she was hardly rational at that moment. Frantic movements, expressionless as she tried to hold the wound closed, to will life back into what was now an empty husk. 

  She laughed deliriously and picked the body up, the head lolling back in a horrid way from the half-severed neck and she tried not to look. She began to walk aimlessly from the spot, ultimately towards a village, but lost for the time; just shambling forward, feet slipping on the blood-soaked grass. 

  She felt a horrible twitch and impulsively let go. No. No way. It couldn't be. How? Myrn crawled toward her, arm reaching out, torso drenched in the blood from the wound that nearly separated his head from the rest of the body... It was too much. Horrifying images and sounds and smells rushed back through her head, to the first time she'd seen the dead rise again; old family members and friends long buried clawing their way to rip the living to shreds. 

  She couldn't do it again, didn't have the will to. Phelan sank down, wrapping her arms around her knees and sobbing, cringing and sobbing harder when the inevitable happened and the grasping hands finally reached her in grotesque mockery of her brother's hugs.

  "Phe. I-it's okay," Myrn croaked, feeling the shudder that ran through Phelan's shoulders. She curled into herself further, screaming at him to shut up, that it wasn't real. "Not dead. Not yet, I swear." He took a deep breath, the air stinging the newly healed trachea. "Just tired. I'm....I healed. Didn't go all the way through. I'm fine."

  Phelan took a shuddering breath, shakily hugging back. Warm, not cold, not dead. They were still there, leaning on each-other in exhaustion and a need for contact when Lycaon finally came back, panting and leading the cougars to the half-circle of rock. The rest of the night passed in a hazy blur of exhaustion, and relief, and worry. A walk-limp-carry back to the safety of Rhosa's home.

[thewayiremember]

EPISODE 16

          I don’t know what I expected, really. Anything, but that, that’s for sure. And I was so delusional. Before I had opened it, I felt like there was maybe something good happening for a change, a little light at the end of the tunnel. I felt like a kid, excited to open up a present I’ve waited for so long to get. But who was I kidding? I have to stop waiting for something that is never going to happen. But the thing is, those feelings should have passed a long time ago. I have a crush on someone I don’t even know. It’s based on… nothing. Nothing at all. And yet a year has passed, and I still can’t help but wonder what it would be like to hold his hand, to feel his breath on my neck while he wraps his arms around me… what it would feel like to kiss him.

          The envelope still smells a little bit like the hospital. When I close my eyes it feels like I’m still there, lying in the bed. And Nathaniel Blake’s still lying across from me. He yawns and stretches his body, waking up from a long sleep. He looks over at me and smiles like nothing ever happened. Like his brother hasn’t just beat me up, and like he hasn’t just been hit by a car. And maybe that’s the case because his arms not broken and my chest doesn't hurt. He gets out of his bed and sits down on mine. And just that itself feels heaven. Knowing he’s here, feels like heaven. And he grabs my hand and pulls me closer toward him. I bury my face in his shoulder. His skin smells like summer, like vanilla ice cream.

          I must have lost a track of time because when I open my eyes I’m surprised to see Bobbie hovering over me. I forgot that he’s here.

“Is that true, Ian? Do you remember any of it?” I don’t respond. “What are we gonna do? I know you’re not going to the police.” I look up at him, waiting for him to tell me why he’s so sure I’m not doing it.

“Because it’s not you. All you wanted was to find out who’s in danger, and you did. No one. Everyone’s safe.”

           And I rise from my seat almost unwillingly because that’s not true. I feel like the ground below me is collapsing and I’m about to be swallowed down with it, but I manage to stand my ground, hoping my suddenly weak legs won’t give up on me.

           I quickly read through the letter again. When did he say he’s coming back? I know he mentioned it somewhere… Wednesday morning! Wait, but that’s today… I look at the time and it’s almost noon. I try not to speculate about what could have already happened. I try not to panic. But I grab my keys and my good for nothing phone and tell Bobbie to text Nicole to meet us at the lake in fifteen minutes.

           That’s where I went that night. The lake. I left the house after my father accused me of stealing those 300 bucks. After accusing me of something I didn’t do, again. And no, I couldn’t have argued with him. I knew better. I didn’t want to say anything while being angry cause God knows it never does any good. So I just left. And of course, I didn’t go to the movies, which was what I had told my father. I went for a walk because all I wanted was to be alone. And that’s all. The rest is just… a huge mess that I would never think I would be a part of that night.

           I didn’t have any destination, so I was just heading wherever. After walking for what felt like hours to me back then, I eventually reached the lake. Looking back, it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes cause usually it takes me about twenty to get there.

           The place, like always, was barely lit, therefore lake itself, hardly visible. A black nothingness spreading across the grass, and the rippling moon floating peacefully in the middle. I sat down on the grass, admiring the stillness of what was in front of me. It was… helpful. And what I always viewed as something nothing but annoying I found the chirping sound of the crickets around me to be genuinely soothing.

           It was late, and it appeared that no one except me thought it was a great idea to go there, which worked for me, cause that’s what I wanted. Every sound seems to be amplified when there are no people to outshout it, so I could hear cars driving by a mile away from me, I could hear dragonflies landing on the surface of the water, and the rustle of the forest on my left.

           But the wind was getting colder, reminding me it was time to go home. I stood up, brushed the dirt off of my clothes and was ready to go. I felt at ease, convinced nothing could bother me right then. I took the first step, but a loud scream coming from somewhere behind me didn’t let me take another. It’s probably just some animal, right? Most likely a big one, judging by the volume of that sound. I tried taking another step and froze with my foot midair when I heard a second scream. That one was louder and… kind of… human-like. I decided it was probably just my tired brain playing tricks on me and that I wouldn’t let myself be fooled like that. So I made another step toward the city and the third scream echoed around me. This time there was no mistake it was made by a human. That last one was the loudest, which meant someone was getting closer. What do I do? That doesn’t sound like screaming for help, does it? And even if it does, he can’t be alone, right? Nobody’s that stupid to go to the forest at night… alone. Right? There is no need for me to intervene, cause everyone is fine, and that isn’t my business. And so my mind wanted to do one thing, but my body turned around, facing the forest, and started walking forward.

           It’s fine, it’s probably not as bad as it sounds. I tried talking myself into calming down, but each step I took made my heart beat faster and faster. By the tone of his voice, I figured it had to be a boy. He wouldn't stop screaming. I entered the forest and suddenly my body wanted to agree with my mind and say it was right all along, that I should go back. The closer I got, the more needless of my help the person seemed to be. He didn’t sound like he was crying out for help, but more like he was shouting at someone.

           Despite getting increasingly nervous I kept going. Who is he talking to? Or rather, who is he yelling at? I can’t hear anyone else. It was dark, I could hardly see where I was going, so I turned on the flashlight on my phone. It barely made a difference. Trees and bushes were all I could see, so I mostly depended on my hearing. On following the voice. Wind bells were chiming somewhere above me, but I couldn’t see them. I wondered who’d built them.

           After a while, I noticed another source of light coming from maybe a hundred feet away. Quick movements, lots of shadows and noises I couldn’t piece together. So I kept going, pretending that I wasn’t terrified, that I didn’t want to go back, and that I couldn’t just say I didn’t see anything at all. That I was never there.

           I hid behind the bushes that were a little seethrough so that I could get a better look, desperately trying not to be heard. I was close enough to see what was going on, but the fear was taking over and I couldn’t dare to look. Not until I heard him shout “I���m gonna kill him!”. He’s gonna what?! I instinctively stood up and rushed over there, not really knowing what I wanted to do next. I didn’t have any plan.

           I made so much noise that I was sure he mush have heard me, but when I got there I was surprised to see him still occupied by whatever he was doing.

           He seemed young, judging by the voice, maybe a couple of years older than me. But his phone was the only source of light, so I couldn’t really see his face. It was lying on the ground beside his leg, illuminating only his posture. He was a lot taller than me and much better built. On his other side was lying something different, something bigger, something that looked kind of like… a body. Oh my God, he killed someone. And now he’s gonna kill me too! I tried to turn around and run back and call the police, but I didn’t see the bigger piece of a twig behind me and I stepped on it, causing it to crack. The guy noticed me. He was looking at me, but he didn’t seem to be shocked or scared that someone just found out that he had killed someone. If anything, he looked… furious.

           Again, my mind and body were arguing about what I should do. The former wanted me to run, as fast as I could, but the latter didn’t let me. So I just stood there, waiting for whatever was coming. As he was getting closer I noticed he was holding something. A shovel. He threw it to the ground beside me and the next thing I saw was his clenched fist flying toward my face. Everything went spinning as I fell to the ground. And he didn’t stop. He was kicking my chest to the point I couldn’t breathe, and my stomach to the point that I wanted to throw up. My mouth was full of dirt from my face being pressed down to the ground. I grabbed the shovel that was lying next to me, trying to haul off and hit him, to give myself a chance to flee, but I was only beating the air.

           Before I lost my consciousness completely I looked over to my left to see the person lying there, only to find out it wasn’t a person at all. What in the shadow seemed to be a dead body, in light turned out to be just a pile of dirt, formed after digging a hole I couldn’t see before.

           Somewhere nearby I heard a running engine and someone getting out of a car. “I’m gonna kill him,” the boy said again. No, he’s still alive, I… I have to help him… He’s in danger… I don’t have much time… But I failed at every attempt to get up and eventually just drifted away to sleep.

           It’s almost noon, and Nathaniel has probably been home for a couple of hours now, which would give his brother plenty of time to finish what he started those two weeks ago. But I’m just gonna have to hope that’s not the case. This time I know who I’m dealing with. And this time I’m not letting anybody get hurt.

[strainingfororiginality]

Chapter 4.4 - Knowledge

Quintus walked out of the stockade and into the Great Hall. He had not been in this beautiful place since Raphael had taken him through on his first real outing since he arrived. As he pushed his human facade back on, no one took notice of him and he hesitated for a moment to proceed. Raphael had set him free without consulting Michael and he seemed to no longer have any shadows.

All in all, Puriel and Dukiel had proved to be quite useless against his will power and he shrugged, deciding that if he was to be followed again, he was sure they would seek him out. At the very least, he didn’t wish to make it so easy on them and he smirked to himself. As he walked down the massive spiraled staircase, he felt the scratching in the very back of his mind again as Ancharia called out to him.

He shoved her desire to see him away, as he’d done so many times before and he felt no guilt about it. She wasn’t exactly as he remembered and he wasn’t ready to revisit her quite yet. At that moment, he thought about his real mother, Honoria. They hadn’t called out to him at all since he’d left them at the courthouse that day and he sighed with a simple nod.

He knew it was finally time to seek them out, as he had put it off far too long. But first, he would find the prophet again. At first, he felt like he should find her to apologize for leaving so abruptly, but given the circumstances that had caused his sudden flight, all guilt lingering over his actions faded away. She had tried to manipulate him, after all, but in the end had done a very poor job of it. It was obvious that deception was not her forte as she didn’t put an ounce of effort into researching her intended tactic beforehand. Sloppy.

Regardless, Ozryel’s parting words concerned him yet again and he needed to understand if his actions would have any lasting consequences on his Poet’s fate. As he exited the Citadel completely, he looked around, unsure where to begin. He had no idea where the prophet lived nor where the afterlife of her people was located.

As he found himself pondering how he might track her, he felt a feeling wash over him. It was not unlike the itch of Ancharia calling to him, although this was a push instead of a pull. Walking down the street, at first he didn’t understand where he was going until he realized he was actually steering himself to Hathų.

Raphael waited patiently at the desk while the short cherub searched through the archives in the back. As the pudgy little angelic woman came back, she smiled at him.

"No, as I said before, I am sorry. There is no record of that visit." Sitting down quickly, she spun her desk chair back around and sat down, shrugging merrily as she picked up her book and began to open it again.

"I’m so sorry, but … “ He hesitated as he could feel her jovial nature begin to fade. “Zophiel, that’s just not possible." Raphael chortled. He didn’t wish to be rude, so he cheerfully asked again. “I don’t wish to be a bother, but can you check for me one more time? Perhaps it was not yesterday? Can you check all dates since … the end of the siege?” He flashed her his most sincere smile and she blushed slightly before scrunching her face up, seemingly disappointed in his lack of confidence in her ability as Watchman of God.

"For you, Traveler … of course, but I’ve already looked twice." She reminded him as she stood up and shuffled to the back. Raphael waited patiently behind the reception desk, tapping his middle finger on the table to pass the time. After a few minutes, she came back into view, empty handed and he frowned. “Nope. There were no visits by the Ishim … for any dates.”

"And no one has been by?" Raphael raised an eyebrow.

The implication was that she might have missed someone in her office and she squinted at him with growing dissatisfaction. "No. I would know, Traveler. Perhaps your information is … bad?"

Nodding in hesitant acceptance, Raphael turned and left the office, unsure of what this really meant. He’d questioned the many people who had seen Quintus enter the booth. Had he not used the booth at all? Perhaps he had overestimated the Born’s intelligence and he had been unable to figure out how to work it before Michael had forcibly removed him? That made no sense, did it? Why would Michael have punished him in such a way? Simply for misbehaving? Perhaps, his older brother could be quite emotional, after all.

Raphael stopped for a moment and turned around, heading back into the office, smiling at the annoyed cherub again. "Hello again, Zophiel."

"Yes?" Clearing her throat to show it was apparent that her patience with him was growing thin, she smiled fakely at him. “What can I do for you now, Traveler?”

He smirked as he blinked at her affectionately. "I was hoping that you could find some other records for me?"

Sighing heavily, she stood up and asked plainly. "For who and what date?"

Where to start really? He fished back through his vivid memories until he remembered the man’s face, the only person he’d seen Quintus speak with recently. He’d watched the boy closely since his release, but in all of his wanderings, he had mostly spoken with people who had died long ago. Sertorius, Decimus …

"May I see any visits by a Professor Abraham Setrakian? He died very recently. During the siege in fact." He asked and she began to make her trip to the back records room again before she turned.

"Any date in particular?"

"All of them. Please." This obviously displeased her greatly, but she made no complaints, only returning a few minutes later empty handed, shaking her round head to the archangel. “Nope. No visits at all.”

He sighed dramatically, making a fist and gently hammering it on her desk in frustration while giving the cherub a tiny pout. "Can you check one more name for me?" Raphael bit his lower lip gingerly and then he grinned again showing as much teeth and innocence as he could muster to the record keeper. “Please?”

"Of course, Traveler." She was becoming less and less cheerful and he looked down, seeing that she simply wished to get back to her book, which was sitting idly face down on her desk. “What’s the name?”

"Can you try Miriam Setrakian?"

He would start there. Everyone that she visited, and everyone that they had visited and so and so forth. If Quintus was hiding something, Raphael needed to know what it was, he just needed to find the right view into it.

As he waited for the cherub to return, he made a profound decision. For the first time since the night Ozyrel fell and he watched his older brother cut to pieces before him, Raphael’s electricity sparked across his face, neck and hands, and the light blue began to deepen in color, turning into a rich vibrant purple. As he pulled the thick and most divine power from his Hayyoth well, he began to delicately reopen the parts of the Nexus that he had locked down that tragic night.

Unfortunately, he would need to start digging deeper. It was dangerous and unwise for Quintus to hide anything from him. But he was not entirely surprised, the boy had always been difficult, hadn’t he? Opening the doors he shut so long ago was a risk though. While he might be able to uncover the secrets he sought, he could be exposing his own for all to see.

Tread carefully, Raphael. Patience. It would be unwise, after all this time, to act rashly.

Zophiel waddled back over, trying to balance a giant box in her hands. As he stepped forward to grab the box, he saw the crystals within, filled to its brim and he smiled. Finally something to work with.

"Thank you so much!" He was pleased and when he attempted to turn and take his leave, she called out to him.

"Oh, that’s not the only one. There’s more." She chuckled with satisfaction. “A lot more.”

"How many boxes are there?" His brows furrowed.

She laughed at him and he felt like he was the butt of a joke suddenly. "That’s just the first year, dear."

Raphael raised an eyebrow now. "Wait … How many years are there?"

She just smiled quietly as she started to head to the back for the next box, shouting back to him when she was completely out of site. "Well, she died in 1967. It looks like she visited her husband a lot."

Oh fuck.

Patience indeed.

He walked beyond the urban sprawl and into the outskirts and still, he kept walking. Spirits and people became more parse and finally he found himself walking through a dense forest as he pushed himself further and further towards the prophet.

The terrain was not entirely unlike the countryside back in Italy, but this was very clearly the North American landscape. He walked for some time, absorbing and enjoying the life that seemed to bounce and buzz around him before he heard her voice off in the far distance. She was laughing and talking to someone and he picked up a youthful male voice along with it though he couldn’t make out their words. As he cleared the final tree line, he found himself in an absolutely breathtaking meadow.

There was a simple stream that ran down the center of it and he was immediately reminded of his pond. Everything was so familiar in this instant and when he stepped forward, goosebumps immediately rushed his arms as he looked around and realized the entire area was flooded with dragonflies.

He knew he wasn’t alive anymore, but in this place, he felt like he was again. Everything about it was electrified with life and when he smiled at the sensation, the breeze shifted towards him and swept through the area. The army of flying warriors were immediately sent directly towards him and he had that same feeling of something watching him again. He was convinced that he might see another stag breech the tree line and drink from the water, just as it had done that fateful day.

The change of wind and the sudden influx of insects carried with it a young boy, no more than thirteen or fourteen years of age, who came bounding towards the dhampir in giggling pursuit of his winged prey. Quintus had released his human appearance once he reached the forest and he suddenly felt as if he should not have as he came face to face with the gangly child. But the look on the boy’s face wasn’t fear nor was it shock, and an eerily familiar feeling rushed over Quintus as the boy smiled at him.

His light brown hair was incredibly long, the length carrying it at least halfway down the his long torso. It was parted down the center and tied at the base of his skull. Overall, he was quite tall for his age, only lacking a few inches to match Quintus’ own height and his eyes were a dull , yet somehow striking gray. His face was slender and long, and his jaw was overly square. His skin was flawless and light tan in color. As the boy cocked his head to the right, he spoke something to him with the intonation of a question and his eyes grew wide.

Hathų screamed words in their direction in that same native tongue the boy had just used. The last time Quintus had heard this language was from the mouth of the Black King. It was Onondagan. She turned around to face the direction of the child, beaming widely, her smile disappeared as her eyes fell upon Quintus.

"Quintus ..." She gasped lowly as she completely halted her step, her eyes growing the widest he’d ever seen them. He only knew one other person who had eyes capable of becoming that big. “What … What … ” She stuttered. She paused. Her heart raced. She gripped her fists tightly. She took a deep breath. “What on Earth are you doing here!?”

Quintus smiled. She was a terrible liar indeed and her nervousness belied too much to him in this important instant. "On Earth, princess?" He questioned antagonistically.

She was hiding something.

He waited patiently at the tree line right where she told him to stay. He watched as she spoke to the boy in their shared language for a moment, though the boy paid her no attention. Quintus questioned the boy’s sanity in this moment as he seemed to disregard Hathų’s existence entirely, his focus was unrelenting on the flying creatures that bounded about and he pushed her out of his way as he ran back to the water, jumping into the stream and splashing about in it.

She stood and stared at the boy for a moment before she returned to Quintus, pulling her leather dress up so that she could step over the higher plants. She was clearly unhappy with his presence there and he smiled at her again as she approached him.

Suddenly, the boy seemed to noticed that they existed and that they were leaving. Popping his head up out of the weeds, he waved to Quintus only and screamed at him in a language with which the dhampir was quite familiar while he pointed at the dragonflies all around him. "Nolite ergo solliciti esse, hominem deformem! Non solum sive! Et ait illi tu es vigilantes!"

Cocking his head to the right, Quintus stared at the tall child and immediately asked, "He speaks Lat--?"

"How did you find me?" Ignoring his question completely, she asked gruffly as she stomped up to him and Quintus only shrugged innocently. Considering the manipulation she had attempted on him, he was quite enjoying causing her such discomfort.

"I do not know, really. I simply wished to see you and I eventually found myself here."

"I thought you were in …" She squinted at him, unsure of what to say next as she raised an eyebrow and Quintus offered her a hand to help her step up into the tree line.

Begrudgingly, she accepted his grip and he finished her sentence for her. "Prison?"

"Yes." She said. “That.”

"Indeed. I was."

"And Michael has already released you?" She began to walk ahead and he followed closely, increasingly pleased with himself. “I was under the impression you would be there for quite some time.”

"Raphael saw it fit to release me." He said simply and Hathų turned, shock encompassing her dark face again.

"Raphael cannot do that.!" She spat and Quintus shrugged innocently again. “He has no authority to do that--”

"I assure you, I told him the very same, but he released me nonetheless."

Hathų scrunched her nose, waving an accusatory index finger towards him as she turned. "You should be careful not to anger Michael. He is …" She trailed off and Quintus stopped walking, looking down at her pointing finger.

"He is what exactly?" He pressed as annoyance leaked into his rattling voice.

"Unforgiving." She said plainly.

"And because of that … You wish me to fear him?" He smirked with a bitter laugh. “I fear no one, princess.” He passed her swiftly and began to walk ahead and it was her turn to hurriedly catch up to him from behind.

"Then you are a fool." Her insult was pointless to him, but it stung nonetheless and he swung around from his stroll at such a speed that Hathų jumped with fright.

Stepping forward, he left only inches between them as he stared down to her menacingly. "Why should I fear? I believe his exact words were ... irrevocably innocent. He cannot change his mind now even if he wished."

"You think oblivion is the only punishment that you can be threatened with, Invictus?" There was a fire in her voice that he had not heard before and she spoke with such growing disdain for him. She was not angry that he left the cell without Michael’s permission. No, she was angry that he had found her … here, in this strange place. He paused as he looked back towards the direction of the meadow.

"Who is the boy?"

"He is none of your concern." She walked ahead past him and Quintus only chuckled.

"Very well. Perhaps I will just ask him then." Turned to return to the child, he felt Hathų’s hand on his arm, gently tugging him to turn back to her. “That is … if he even knows who he is himself.”

"Please." As he looked at her now, the rage had abated and now she only expressed concern. “Do not bother him. Please. He is … unwell.” Was it concern? Or was it shame?

"Who is he?" Quintus asked again and this time he saw her body relax as she succumbed completely to his request.

"He is my son." It was shame. He could see it clearly now. There seemed to be some amount of shame in this disclosure for her and she pulled her hand back from his arm, fiddling with her fingers as she stared down and away from his questioning stare.

He remembered she had said she had a son, but this boy was far too … pale? However, people here can assume any form they wish, can they not? "Are you certain? He does not … look like you." He pointed out.

Her nervousness spread to her stance as she shuffled her feet and began to kick the ground beneath her. "His father was not an Iroquois."

Quintus looked back, staring through the trees in the direction of the boy as only the very top of the youth’s head was visible now, bobbing up and down as he frolicked about the greenery. "He is …" Should he even say it? He shrugged dramatically as he realized he did not care if it would be upsetting or not. “Quite mad.”

Taking offense to his words immediately, she looked up as her brows furrowed deeply. "He is not mad!" Her defensiveness was quite obviously that of a mother. “He is … “

"Is he … Autistic?" He asked. Was this what she was ashamed of?

"No. No. It is nothing like that. He is …" She hesitated again as he could see her considering the right word to use. “He is … sick.”

"Sick? Even here?" The concept seemed to elude Quintus as he furrowed his nose at the sad prophet. “How can an illness follow one beyond the grave?”

"Some illnesses can." She wrapped her arm through his as she pulled him along affectionately and he complied, allowing her to guide him away.

"But how is that possible? There is no longer a Qliphoth to house--"

Hathų interrupted softly. "Some illnesses can affect the very soul itself, Quintus." Her tone told him that she was bordering on the edge of intense emotion and he nodded, deciding to drop the subject for now and he allowed her to usher him back to the inner parts of Heaven.

"So, is this the land of your people?" He asked inquisitively, looking around at the deserted nature as they passed through it.

"No. It is not." She said calmly, offering nothing more and he was motivated to press further. She normally loved to teach him things about this place.

"Then what is this place?" He asked and her grip on his arm tightened. “I have not seen it before.”

"I am sure you have not seen many places in Heaven yet." She giggled, seeming to think about some inside joke, but he pressed on with his previous questioning. He would not be deterred.

"If it is not the land of your people, then how is it your son is here?" He asked again.

"He …" That telling pause again. “He made it …” She said gently. “For himself.”

"He made it?" Quintus was intrigued by this thought. “I thought only The Shapers can create new parts of Heaven?” Apparently he had misunderstood something and she shook her head.

"No. Not so. The Shapers are very good at it. It is why they were created. It takes considerable practice and most souls are not possible of such incredible …" That pause again, as she considered whether to speak the next word or not. “Creativity. My son’s mind is very … unique.”

"Is this why he knows Latin?" Quintus asked and his question seemed to confuse Hathų a bit as she glanced back and scrunched her nose.

"No … I am unsure where he could have learned that." She shrugged it off. “Perhaps when he was alive …”

"You are unsure?" Confused by her confusion, he inquired further. “He is quite young, would you not know if he learned it--”

"No. Do not let his appearance fool you, Quintus." She frowned delicately as she spoke. “He lived a very, very long and hard life. He was very old when he finally died. How he looks now is simply how he chooses to look.”

"He wishes to be a child instead of a man?"

"Yes." She sighed as she nodded. “I think that this time of his life, he was at his happiest.”

"I see." He internalized her statement and accepted it. He would have pried further, but he also wished to rebuild his previous friendly rapport with her. He would get nothing useful from her if she felt the need to be defensive towards him. “So, prophet. Where is the land of your people then?”

"My people …" Her voice trailed a bit. Was this more sadness? Had he managed to step into another touchy subject? “... have mostly chosen to return to Earth.”

"Returned? To be reborn?" She had shown him the line to enter the chamber of rebirth, but she had said it was at the cost of everything that one was. An entire reset, of sorts.

"Yes." She cleared her throat. “When it was realized that The Great Spirit was no longer here, it was assumed that it returned to Earth and my people opted to go in search of it there rather than stay here.”

"And yet you are here. You chose to stay?"

"It was my duty to see to the next Ishim and … “ She glanced back towards the meadow. “And … there are many reasons for me to stay here. I will not leave him."

Quintus paused their stroll and looked down upon her expressive brown eyes and stared at her lovely eyes. He realized he quite enjoyed being around Hathų, even after her attempted manipulation and as he stared at her overly thick lashes again, he knew it was because she reminded him of Dawn. "It seems you lead a fairly lonely life here, princess."

Her smile was simple and he could hear a hint of something deceptive hidden behind her next words. "I make due, General. Do not worry for me, I make due very well."

[tiredsmolhufflepuff]

Low key hosts/demons shipper here, so no judgement. :) I'm curious about what makes you ship Ava/Pedri. :) How would that relationship start? Is he still a ghost? What are they like together? What does Wrathia think/do? How freaked out is Odin by the whole thing? :D

Okay well it started as it would be cute seeing this like 6'5 or something demon boi turning into a puddle of goo for his tiny girlfriend

Like idk man, this would be in a scenario where Wraths and Ped don’t rlly love each other any more but they have a child so they stuck together to keep it safe? Like he was genuinely upset when Wraths took the potion but that wasn’t the reason he did, he took it so TiTAN wouldn’t get the pleasure of killing Ped.

This is thinking Ped managed to get five minutes to convince Odin to make a pact with him so like Odin gets his families safety and Ped gets a like fake body he can kind of synch his energy and soul into to make it his. Though once Odin figured out he wanted this body so Ped could properly woo Ava he’d immediately start freaking out and screeching in Big Brother worry TM.

Also another way it got started is when I got stuck thinking Ava, Ava is the only person he can interact with that would be agreeable to talking with him. She thinks Ped and Wraths are still a couple but don’t know they were staying together for their kid?

I was thinking Pedri does not have anyone to interact with, no one. Odin smokes to make Ped leave and he won’t admit it bc he strong af but its lonely and he wants company, wants to talk with someone who shares his shitty humour. Then What Would You Know!!!!

Here comes this 5'0 ball of rage and need for a family that has been belittled all their life, this smol ball of rage that can see!!! Him!! TALKS TO HIM!!!!!! He is SO happy!!! He is exCITE!!!!!

Pedri is giddy (tho it don’t show) that Ava talks to him because Odin is terrified of him, of what it means were TiTAN found out he was Pedri’s host, Odin does not talk to him because it means his family death and okay Peds can respect that but it does not mean he likes it. So Ava comes along filled with awe at the sight the glasses give her and sees him and thinks “holy shit this dudes big and kind of maybe in a weird way pretty what do”

She doesn’t know how to react but she can see him and Odin isn’t around, she thinks she knows why the pact hunter(?) smokes now. Ava can she him, is terrified of what he might do to her, but all she can think is how lonely it must be to go fifteen years with only one person able to see you and have him ignore you. All Ava can think is he is like me, alone and angry and bitter with want for a new life free of TiTAN’s control (because against TiTAN Odin may be he would do anything to get rid of Peds and ensure his families safety).

Ava sees this tall beast, being, man(?) and all she can do is Talk because it is lonely, its horrible being the one everyone ignores or hates or is scared of. She knows this intimately, knows how it hurts but you never let it show because that would be letting them win and that is worse than the pain. Ava babbles on about whatever she can think of and eventually she has to take the glasses off because she isn’t just crying stardust now its flooding from her eyes, Ava’s been talking for hours and seeing this morbidly beautiful creature lighten up with each passing minute and she does not want to leave him alone again.

Ava knows how it feels to be alone where everyone hates you or wants you dead, she doesn’t want it for this graceful entity of shadows and death and fear (even though he is just that; made of death and shadows and fear). But he kneels before her, and Avas in awe that anything would kneel before her, Pedri pushes her glasses up with a whispered “later, firefly” having heard Odin’s nickname and thinking it suits her so well.

Pedri is sad she has to go but her friends are looking for her and her eyes must be on fire then he sees the way her face goes red and yellow, like molten lava similar to Wrathia and yet different somehow and he cant help but to laugh happily and loudly as Ava sputters lava and ash. He laughs as this tiny being made up of rage and bitter want and so much kindness and love is embarrassed by him, him! Pedri, a demon, he is absolutely gleeful that this beautiful fiery ball of rage and love is flustered by him and it heals something he hadn’t known was cracked.

Then sometime after, when Ava’s half completed her pact she has his child his heir (something in him wants it to be theirs instead of his and Wrathia’s) and shes so gentle and loving. Sweet as anything and so beautiful even though shes only just turned 17 when she found his kid he cannot help but think Ava is incandescent with her worry and love for a child that by all rights she should hate.

Pedri is in awe (though he shall never admit it) that Ava would be so caring for this child but then he thinks of Crow and Raven and how she hadn’t hated them for treating Odin the way they do and laughs at why he would have believed anything less.

Then maybe sometimes before that sometime after Strategos Six and the chamber mess, they end up in a crowd and he can see her panicking (he is furious that his host left her alone; Odin knew she has anxiety that she is terrified of being left behind and alone) it upsets him, infuriates him. He has never been more thankful of the busyness of a market place when someone bumps into her and the glasses fall down, immediately he has his dragonflies leading her away from the place.

Pedri has to get her away from all the people and he knows this will set her confidence back but when they are secluded in an alley with no one but them and his dragonflies and the fireflies she does not seem to notice follow her. Pedri relaxes and once again he kneels in front of her (he does not realise how easy it is to do so for a long long time) he starts humming softly, a song he had heard a day ago a month a century ago and sighs in relief when she calms down.

But then Ava hugs him babbling thank yous and you didnt have to its such a stupid thing to panic over and Pedri is shocked with the realisation that maybe just maybe he is a little bit of in love with his exs host. At the same time though he can feel something loosen inside him at the acknowledgement but Pedri knows this is not the time to tell her, not when he doesn’t have a body and certainly not when Ava is recovering from an anxiety attack. He refuses to let her mix up gratitude with love, he can wait he has waited this long to even get a glimpse of a chance at love after his rule.

Maybe later, a week a month a year when Pedri has finally got his body (Odin has done his half of the pact) he can not help but shower her with attention because she had always kept the glasses on till her eyes drowned in galaxies and nebula to keep him company and he is determined to make Ava know how much it meant. Sometime when they stop at a planet to rest on the search for his child he sees her relax and melt in the sunlight in a field full of wildflowers and is struck with the how much he wants to see this sight in the moonlight with the fireflies and the moon flowers. It aches inside his chest.

Pedri will make her a crown of roses red and orange and yellow because he loves her and he wants her love in return; because Ava has been his friend she their first meeting and he wants her to know it. Pedri fashions a second crown for himself of bluebells and jonquil and snapdragons because she makes him humble and he so dearly wants his affections returned but also snapdragons because she is so deceptively weak looking but is a kind of awe filling terrifying enemy to have when she gets furious.

The others will probably freak out and be disgusted but Ava has faced that all her life because of the demon in her head everyone told her was fake and Ava refuses to let this second chance (the on her pact gave her) for love and happiness to leave her. Ava will dig her claws into the ground and snarl at anyone that wants her to abandon Pedri because he loves her and kneels down next to her like it was as easy as breathing for the demon king. Pedri loves her and has waited for the off chance she would love back and he has sat through every one of her anxiety it panic attacks even when she could not see him.

Ava absolutely will not leave him alone, not after she asked Tuls what those flowers meant, not when he never gets scared at her anger and laughs at her morbid quips or jokes. Ava refuses to let Pedri go because of them, tells them this and refuses to tell why when they ask because that was between them and she knows Odin will never speak of the glimpses he got of their budding relationship back when it was just him and her that could see Pedri.

Ava is fully willing to leave them behind and help Pedri raise his child while slowly destroying TiTAN’s forces but Pedri is willing to break it off if it means her happiness and that, that shocks the rest of the group to the core except for Tuls because Tuls remembers what his king was like when Pedri and Wrathia were still in love.

Tuls is glad that his king found love again and he is glad Wrathia will eventually be able to pass on peacefully once TiTAN’s forces are destroyed.

[osean-kitty]

Year 2077 October 28th Five days on foot, still can't sleep. Outside it's like nothing happened. Sky looks wrong, that's all. Hike back to overturned NatGuard truck near Toquerville? After blisters heal, maybe. Looks like USGS team was researching something here in cave. Cleared out when bombs fell, left equipment behind. Probably thought they had families to run back to. October 29th Char, must've said this out loud a thousand times walking here. Maybe writing it will feel more like you heard. You were right. I was north of Spanish Fork. Took the 77 along Provo Bay to steer clear of town. Would've been home in an hour. Engine died, truck just stopped. So did a Chryslus in the other lane. Knew right away. First nuke hit SLC inside a minute. I was looking South - Lucky Man! Flash behind me so bright world looked on fire. Old couple from the Chryslus starts screaming they can't see. Didn't watch you die, Char. Saved my eyes. Counted 12 more flashes next 7 minutes. Ground shook each time, 18 seconds later. When nothing hit for half an hour, took a look. Globe of fire where you and Alex died. Didn't kid myself. Didn't know what to do. Grabbed my pack and rifle. Saw to the old couple. Sat them up against car, let them hold and comfort each other. Told them I was going to get help, everything be okay. One bullet through both heads. Instant. Five day hike back to Zion. You told me. Stop running off to the wild. Man belongs with his family. You were right. You were right. You were right. You were right. Wasn't there to hold you and my boy. Died without me. Never touch you or him again. Should shoot myself. What I deserve. Can't. Maybe soon. October 31st Black rain falling outside. Geiger jumping. Should let it kill me but bottling water from back of cave all the same. November 2nd Sounds dead outside, but can't look. Geiger goes crazy 15 feet from cave mouth. Do the math. Radiation goes down before water runs out or I never leave this cave. Year 2078. January 1st Happy New Year. Two months in cave. Still lethal outside. Don't get it. In army they said 2-4 weeks cleared fallout. Less than a month's water left. Been mopping condensation off cave walls, wringing shirt into bottles. Trading calories for H2O. Food stocks holding. Thanks, USGS. If there was even a chance I'd see the two of you again, I'd run outside. January 10th Sounded like windstorm out there for 2 days. Radiation down 500. What happened? January 15th Took a peek. Snow. It glows green. January 28th Radiation low enough I could risk short exposure outside. More important, cave stream now drinkable if I use Rad drugs. January 30th There is nothing alive out there. Year 2083. May 5th The comeback goes on. Add prickly pear to list of survivors with honey mesquite, and banana yucca. Odd nodules / mutations but safe to eat. Harvesting oh so careful, never take more than a fifth. Mouth waters every time I'm about to eat something that isn't from a can. May 7th Clouds of those stinging flies near fallen tree I call The Napper. Little flashes in the cloud. Something dragonfly-sized that zaps them midair then scoops them up. Something new. May 19th Bighorn sheep! A family - ram, ewe, and little one Fucking Goddammit May 20th The sheep were different. Brawny. Ewe had curved horns just like the ram. Seen some tiny lizards but this is first time seen animals that big. Fingers crossed. 5-10 years breeding, fresh meat, hides, horns. I know it's time to go back, Char. When winter has passed. Year 2084. June 14th Just got back. Tired. Good scrounging along the way. Ended up dragging back a cart of stuff. Write tomorrow. Sleep. June 15th Departed April 10th. Walk to SLC took 15 days. Would've been 7-9 back in the old days but had to circle pockets of radiation and foraged along way. Don't know what I was thinking. Imagined I'd find my house, dig through rubble, find - something. Your bones I hoped, and Little Nut's. Would've buried them. Here in Zion maybe. SLC is mostly craters. Warped steel girders where highrises sat. Mounds of bricks. Never found our house. Didn't even find street. What wasn't a crater was scorched clean. Want to believe it was fast, a flash, both of you vaporized. Lies to make me feel better. I'll never know. Which part of city got hit first? Northeast and you both died in a blink. Farther away and you burned alive screaming or the blast broken glass and bits of brick and wood splinters shredding you like hamburger. Look at it coward and listen don't turn away face it. If you'd been brave lucky man you would've found a spot and blown your brains out. But not you. You took your time walking back, made a shopping trip out of it. Scrounger. The truck was still there on the 77 north of Spanish Fork. The Chryslus too, but no sign of the old couple's bones. Outside Nephi I caught a trail. Three men, tracks heading toward Fountain Green. Thought about following but didn't. Stupid fantasy of friends, more likely cannibals. June 20th Took two days to build door and electrify it. No soliciting, assholes. Home sweet fucking home. Year 2095. September 20th I count 28 of them. 11 adult males, 8 females, 9 children aged 2 - 10. Some rifles and pistols in bad repair. Old world clothes, ratty. September 22nd Got close enough last night to hear them talk. Spanish, I think. From Mexico? Heard them say "paradeeso" a bunch. Think that means paradise. Here to stay, then. Seem harmless. SEEM. October 5th The one I call "Maria" is pregnant. Think the father is "Jose" but she spends a lot of time with "Pablo" too. October 7th "Pedro" ran out to pee in the stream and would've seen me if he looked to his left. Too close. Need to give them space. November 10th "Jose" broke his leg chasing a bighorn. Too far from camp for them to hear. Told myself to leave it be but couldn't. 300 yards from their camp did my best Jose screaming imitation until a bunch of them came looking, then strung them along to the crest where they could hear the real Jose. Probably useless. Compound fracture, broke the skin. November 11th "Infec-shee-own." So many goddamn words nearly the same, think I'd be fluent. But anyway Jose's leg has got it so he's going to die. Nature for you. Of course they're giving prayer a try. November 12th Left bottle of antibiotics on a rock outside their camp last night. They thanked God (Dee-os) of course. As though that asshole saw fit to burn the world but still cared enough to leave some medicine on a rock. November 15th Jose will always limp but otherwise he'll be okay. Good deed for the month. Will they make it through the winter? Year 2096 I. February 11th Fuckers killed all the men. I think they would've taken the women alive but Maria and Selena opened fire and some of the others went for their guns so they shot them down and some of the kids with them. If I could've warned them. February 12th Elena and Carmen and 5 children still alive, being kept in a pen. There are more than 100 of these assholes in blue suits. Every suit says "22" on the back. Why? Armed to the teeth with submachine guns, pistols. Estimate 60% male. Everyone seems to follow the dark-haired guy but can't get close enough to tell. Assholes are disciplined - patrols, sentries - they mean business. Say I go in at night and get the women and children out. Where to next? But I have to get them out. Have to. February 13th Recon during night. Well-organized, sentries along most approaches, but stream not covered. Are they sick? Lots of coughing fits. Tuberculosis? Women and children still in pen. Will try to infiltrate by stream tomorrow night. February 14th They ate them. February 19th Ambush along riverside trail. 6 males killed. Heard their coughing a mile away. Used their grenades to booby-trap bodies, kept half. Secured 6 SMGs, 500 rounds 10mm, 6 frags. February 20th Ambush along riverside trail. 2 males died checking bodies. Killed 2 more with rifle. Shot 1 through calf and let asshole crawl off to spread message. Coughed like I'd shot him through lungs. February 23rd Ambush half-mile east of coal pits wash. 8 males killed. Year 2096 II. February 28th Ambush in the narrows. 6 males killed. Took a 10mm through thigh, steel jacket, missed femoral. Lucky. Used tourniquet to make sure no blood spattered on rocks back to cave. Have set traps all along entrance passage but if they find me it will be matter of time. Still, 24 confirmed kills in 10 days = at least 1/3rd of their combat force, not bad for an old man. March 2nd Lucky lucky lucky lucky. Patrol was small - 3 men. Screaming woke me - point man caught under deadfall. Panic fire ricocheted into the cave, almost hit me. Crawled forward and killed them all with SMGs. Nearly used frags, stupid, finger in pin when remembered ricochets. Leaving at once. No other patrols in area but they'll be searching narrows for these 3. Taking as much food as I can drag with me and heading to cave south. Year 2097. January 13th The Coughers are gone finally. All 34 that still lived. Ate their dead for strength, then struck out SE. Victory. 10 months of killing. All I feel is cold. They deserved every goddamn bit of it. January 17th Thought I was dreaming but the screams were real. For a moment thought they'd tricked me, just pretended to leave Zion, then sent a patrol to track me down. But the screams were a woman's. Edged around corner in passageway to have a look. One Vaulter, ankle deep in bear trap. Leveled my SMG but the way she was crying stopped me. How she screamed when she saw me. Been their boogey man a long time. Name's Sylvie. Claims she ran away from them. Calls them evil people, "children of the devil". Turns out they were sick after all, somethingthey caught in a Vault they lived in. She never came down with it (yet). So help me, I've wound up being her nurse. January 18th Her story matches what I learned from my "interrogations" last year, but according to her - let's just say it was bad to be a woman in that group. So when they left, she slipped away. She knows next to nothing about living outside a Vault. Says she wants to learn. Year 2100. September 9th Never been so scared in my life. Canada wasn't scary, just sickening, the criminality of it. The end of the world wasn't scary. When I knew you and Alex were dead, I didn't have anything left to be scared about. I just went on for some reason. I wasn't scared fighting the Vaulters. It was like I kept daring them to finish me. When I killed them, I think it was the closest I came to being happy in years Sylvie is pregnant. And I am terrified. Ridiculous old man. A father again at 47. In this world? She's so excited and so - trusting. Says it's God's will that we have this child. Like nothing can go wrong. You see, Char, she doesn't know about you and Alex. Never told her. Almost did sometimes but what you and I had, it seemed wrong to share it. More like an old man not wanting his young wife to know how he failed the one who come before her. Hiking into Toquerville for medical books and supplies. This will be done right. I'm sorry, Char. Hope you can forgive me. Year 2101. March 5th Baby was breech. Would've been a son. Michael. Did my best to turn him. Failed. Must've done Caesarian too late. Had to put Sylvie out and she never woke up. Buried them south of the Narrows. Well. This time I was by their side. So much better. I think I can finally do it. Blow my fucking brains out all over this goddamn cave. Year 2108. August 22nd 10 sets of tracks 1/2 mile NE of canyon entrance. Barefoot??? August 23rd Saw them through scope. Corpses walking around. Finally gone crazy. Dementia maybe. August 24th I'm not crazy, they're real. Goddammit they are real. Rushed me the moment they saw me, snarling like animals. They look like corpses but don't smell rotted. I'll be putting them out of their misery. Doing for them what I never could for myself. September 3rd The last of them. All gone. Year 2113 February 5th Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday you useless old dinosaur, happy birthday to me. Happy 60th. What do you get a man who has everything? A bottle of whiskey and a 12 gauge slug through the roof of the mouth! Whoo! Come now. What do I have to do to prove to myself that I've lived long enough? I'm a shriveled old man. White beard. Seen enough sunrises and sunsets. Saw the big sunset, been hanging on through the long night 36 years now. Ridiculous. Not kidding myself into thinking there's anything on the other side of this. Fine. Things weren't so bad before I was born. Char and Alex. Sylvie and Michael-who-could've-been. Thoughts of the beloved dead before dying. Goodbye, Zion. February 6th Fucking didn't do it, coward as usual. Maybe two bottles next year. Year 2123. April 25th 24 of them, half boys, half girls. Youngest is 8 maybe, oldest 13-14. Dirty and scrawny, been on foot a long time. Children's crusade. Struck camp on nearly the same spot as los mexicanos, 30 years and a lifetime ago. I've spent 2 nights listening to them. English. Literate. One of them reads stories while the little ones fall asleep.[1] They escaped someplace they call "The School" but can't figure out where it was. When they want little one to behave they tell him to stop or "The Principal will get you." Principal better not show up or I'll blow his goddamn head off. I can still shoot straight. Year 2124. January 2nd I've been leaving notes for them, and gifts. They like the books. Started with stories but moved on to weapons manuals, medical books, practical stuff. In the notes, well it's embarrassing, almost like those cards people used to give each other, everything sweet and loving. I tell them to read and to learn and to make the most of their new home. I tell them I'm giving them Zion as a gift to make up for all the sorrows of their lives so far and all the sorrows man has visited on man. I tell them to be kind to each other and modest. I tell them never to hurt each other but that if someone else comes along and tries to hurt them to strike back with righteous anger. Stuff like that. I sign every note "The Father", because well, just because. January 18th Have I mentioned that I'm dying? Mind's still sharp. Lungs are the problem. Might be cancer. Cough's been getting worse for months, finally there's blood in it. Getting harder to visit my little friends, breath's so short. I've given away most of what I own. They'll find the rest in caves when they get a little older. I don't want them to find me, though. "The Father" is a broken-down old man? Disappointment. It's time. I don't want another birthday. January 23rd It's cold enough that I won't last long on the high mound up next to Red Gate. I think I've got enough breath left in me to make it. I'll just lie down and stare at the sky. Feels right. I hope they'll do well. I hope no harm comes to them, from within or without. Did my best to prepare them with the last notes. Said something kind about each one of them, what makes each one special. Told them "The Father" was pleased by their kind natures and that it would be up to them to handle things on their own from now on, that I'd be silent but still watching and still caring. Lying, then. Oh yes. Lied to you, Char. And Alex. And Sylvie. Told you I'd be with you forever. But I wouldn't go back and unsay it once if I could. What was the point of it all? So many failures. But I never forgot your face. Or Little Nut's. Or (sorry) Sylvie's. They used to say that happened after a while but it never did for me. Maybe the only point of all that living was to keep those pictures in my head going for as long as I could. It was the only life I could give you. Not a day went by without. It wasn't choice. I chose to die again and again. Just never did. Body had its own drive. Well, the little ones will need it. Species will need it if it's to continue. That blind drive onward. I wish them well. It's been a gift to me, at the end of it all, to behold innocence. Goodbye, Zion. Randall Dean Clark Feb 5th, 2053 - Jan 2124