#i'd have to head out east and a bit south to have some

[passengerpigeons]

girlies auf tumblr....do you have any recommendations for a girlie trying to get into persimmons (jpn varieties - hachiya and fuyu) for the first time? tis the season (i think)

[onnahu]

Okay so I can't stop coming back to the idea of mdzs httyd au, so here's what i figured out.

It's the part 1 of deep dive into it.

It's long, I'm warning you.

The sects have their own islands, so Jiangs have the island of Yunmeng (the most to the south, i'm very set about that one), Wen's have Qishan (They're the east. Because the sun. And Japan. Like. It's not for now.)

Actually maybe I'll make up a map. If I could do Gotham I can do a chinese vikings fighting dragons map. But that's for later.

Cultivation is a thing in more of a vague term for warrior that got a bit better reflexes. So they meditade and know their herbs, but don't have magic swords and taliamans. Their strikes have a bit more of strenght in them and they're a bit faster than normal, but nothing really super special.

The chinese dragons are all the super powerful dragons. So, the Red Death from the first movie has it's chinese dragon counterpart in my au, and that's a dragon that lost the heaven's blessing and with itself turned all the dragons around it into resentful beasts. That way dragons that could normally be peaceful, under the influence of a fallen dragon become kinda hazy. Like in the movie but different.

The big dragons from second movie will also be in a form of typical chinese dragon, and once again, the one that Drago control's is fallen from heaven's liking, but by a hand of human that destroyed it's godlyhood. The good one is a divine creature that takes care of other dragons and also the snow and storms, bringing them like heavens want it to.

So, all the dragons that the sects fight are under the undivined dragon's control, and the conflict goes on for ages already.

The sect conferences work as talks about trades, strategies against dragons, hunts for fun, but also initiations for young warriors.

The iniciation happens at 17 and then they kill their first dragon or die trying.

At the age 15 it is a tradition to send the warrior students to Gusu, an island north that is the furthest from the dragon's nest, and where the teenagers spent a few months training to bring honor to their sects during the iniciation.

I'd imagine the training in Gusu happens in winter, when the attacs from dragons are more sporadic, and the sects can let a ship go with people who normally give first aid, kill fires, transport messages and weapons.

So, young Wei Wuxian, the boy that is expected to be one of the gratest dragons slayers in Yunmeng, with his brother Jiang Cheng and few other disciples of their age are sent to partake in Gusu training.

There, Wei Wuxian meets Lan Wangji. It goes as close to canon as I can make it in this world. Lans still have their rules, although now they're more about killing dragons than kindness and things like that. Lacohol is still forbidden, and WWX still tries to get some. They fight, and find out they're equals, WWX takes on a mission of annoying LWJ to death and LWJ gets in his head he have to spoil every of WWX's mischief before they even take place.

When they practice identifying dragons and the best ways to kill them, WWX asked by LQR says something along the lines of 'wouldn't it be easier to just take control over it? Tame it like a wild animal and bring it to our side?'. LQR hates it, as could be expected.

Things go on, WWX promises JC that he would never try to tame a dragon, bc 1 it's suuuper dangerous and stupid and 2 they are enemies and dragons are all the evil in the world.

Then WWX punches JZX, the engagement is broken off, WWX leaves earlier.

LWJ composes WangXian when he's gone.

Next year, they're 16. A year more to the initiation.

The conference is hosted by Wens on the Qishan island. The initiation is happening, but WWX get's bored as soon as everyone he knows is done, so he wanders off.

He meets Wen Ning practising with a bow. He helps him, they talk, WWX has to go back. It doesn't mean that much for him, but Wen Ning will remember that - after all not many are kind to him.

LWJ and WWX briefly interact, but everyone goes home.

Not a month later, Gusu is attacked and burns, and Wens send a word to send all the clan heirs and at least two appreantices to Qishan for 'a study in a Wen way of slaying dragons'.

The indoctrination happens, and the role of Xuanwu of Slaughter takes a legendary sleeping dragon (again, a chinese dragon that's undivine). Wen Chao tries ti kill it, obviously fails, tries to take hostages, fails, WWX takes on things in his own hands, shit happens.

WWX and LWJ somehow kill the sleeping dragon, and are saved by Jiang Cheng.

Jiangs don't take actions, as per canon, and are attacked. Let's say it's early spring, and Wen's attack Yunmeng. Wen Ning saves JC, JYL and WWX, smuggles them to Yiling, an island that is on one side a quite prosperous village, and on the other a dragon hell. Wild dragons plague the island. Wen Qing helps treat their wounds.

JC saves WWX when they're spotted by unfriendly Wen soliders, and when WWX goes save JC in turn, he get's captured.

JC is free and menages to come back to Wen Qing and Wen Ning, but when they try to find WWX, there's no sign of him ever getting even captured.

JC goes to Qinghe and joins the war efforts, still looking for WWX. LWJ joins him. JYL either goes with him to be a medic or to Jins to persuade them to join the war.

WWX was, presumably, thrown into the Burial Mounds, a place that when you once entered you are ment to be eaten by dragons. He somehow befriends one dragon there, kills some that are not friendly, befriends some more. When he gets put it's on a dragon's back with revenge with mind.

JC, WWX and LWJ reunite when WWX kills Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu with his 'demonic power' of controling dragons. LWJ tries to tell WWX that dragons are dangerous and it is known that some of them can control mind.

The war goes on, WWX changes the ties of it, they win.

The gossip about WWX and his insanity grows, WWX finds out about mistreatment of Dafan Wens, takes them to the Burial Mounds. Sects turn on him, and Wen remnants befriend the dragons.

For some time they're happy. Wen Ning is alive btw, and get's himself a bff dragon, Ghost General.

LWJ visits and tries to understand, and maybe finally starts to get the appeal of dragons, but he's not courageous enought to act.

Shit happens, JZX is killed by Suibian (WWX's bff dragon). It happens bc Jin's get control over a fallen dragon that controls Suibian. They're the Drago here.

The rest goes like canon. WQ and WN with their dragons are killed (or are they?), JYL dies, the siege happens, WWX expects death but is against his will saved by Suibian. He thinks Wen Yuan is dead. He's wrong. Suibian takes him far away, where WWX creates an asylum for dragons. He befriends a Chinese Dragon, the divine creature.

13 years later, unknown to WWX, Lan Sizhui finds a hurt dragon.

[vryfmi]

after finishing TOSaB series i've started a full reread, and now im picking up on more lore than before.

i have to agree with most takes on main message of the series being a bit too on a nose and worldbuilding feeling a bit underwhelming compared to other Stroud's series. and the criticism is valid, i felt so too, but also this story isn't about uncovering the truth behind Cataclysm, no, it's about two outlaws and their lives and notorious deeds across the kingdoms.

and due to Scarlett and Albert both being born into centuries old post-apocalyptic world and not knowing anything about certain things from the old times (aka our modern world), they miss quite a few details and/or misinterpret them in the narration. but, as it turns out, if you read the book with google map tab open, lots of off hand comments about the environment and/or places that characters pass by, suddenly become very real and full of deliberate flavour text.

so i want to share some of my finds about hidden worldbuilding of TOSaB.

[some TOSaB spoilers under the cut]

the map and the London Lagoon

first and foremost. Cataclysm was definitely caused by nukes that hit most noticeably London, i think that's very self-explanatory with book being set in post-apocalyptic setting with a bunch of mutated animals and people (Tainted) paired with a gaping hole where capital used to be. that's most likely how London turned into a lagoon.

but Anglia's region has also noticeably submerged and this (as well as lagoon) is due to sea level rising drastically. as a good comparison point, here's a map of UK on Climate Central next to the map in the book. parts of East England is flooded on both maps but not London. the lagoon has more crater-like shape, so im assuming it is due to a nuke drop.

[id in alt text]

but another interesting detail lies right bellow the main map—an arrow pointing east titled "To The Burning Regions".

A hot wind blew out of the east, from the Burning Regions across the sea; the clouds were towering agglomerations of strange colours, yellows, oranges and browns. (ch. 21)

oh. so the whole world got nuked and it's rather chill there in england, huh? the burning part of Burning Regions plays into the risen sea level too i guess.

Didcot Barrens

this one. this one keeps me awake at night trying to figure it out.

...a range of low hills swung up from the south. The nearest hill was bare and arid, spotted with black glass, and criss-crossed with charcoal lines as if it had been blistered by lightning strikes long ago. As the raft passed the hill, it bucked and twisted on unseen currents, its beams rattling. Scarlett felt her teeth vibrating in her head. Then they were away and past, with reed beds resuming on the banks and the stream continuing smoothly. “Did you feel that?” Albert said. “It was as if my heart was about to stop.” Scarlett’s face was grey. She nodded. “It is a dead zone, left over from the Cataclysm. It is best to avoid such places. They aren’t good for body or mind. Presumably this is the Didcot Barrens. (ch. 19)

the only hills that fit the description—to the south of Thames, relatively close to Didcot and about 5miles away from possible Bladen Point aka Wallingford castle—are Wittenham Clumps, but there's nothing glass or rattling about them.

i'd say there are two possible explanations with ties to real world:

1. Didcot as in town in UK is somewhat elevated but not drastically, but it does have some interesting industrial facilities: the Didcot power station(s) and Tokamak. Didcot has* two power stations: Didcot A and Didcot B, together the two have 6 cooling towers that could, after being collapsed, look like giant hills from the river. however it doesn't explain the melted glass and vibrations. you know what could, though? Tokamak. if say Cataclysm wiped off the town, the only somewhat damaged radioctive facility would be tokamak, which still doesn't have that much energy stored or produced. we could say that Cataclysm's nuclear fallout could put in motion the fusion, which would lead to energy being produced, to vibrations occuring, to barren lands being created.

[*] technically had because Didcot A was demolished in 2016 and Didcot B in 2020. that could put us in rough 2010s as the time of the Cataclysm. unless Didcot Power Station was updated to run on nuclear fusion in some future, and that thing collapsed after the Cataclysm. still unlikely to cause the Barrens as they are, though.

2. Culham Centre for Fusion Energy aka tritium plant. tritium is a rare and radioactive isotope of hydrogen, that is being widely used for Tokamak's nuclear fusion, and it could be produced in a reactor. where such reactor could be? near Didcot, about 3,5 miles away, actually. vibrations? i dont know how to explain it, radiation doesn't feel like anything either way.

alternatively, Stroud's just fucking with me specifically, and the only reason he picked this area and decided to make it fallout spooky barren land is because there's Lock Wood Island near Culham/Didcot.

[id in alt text]

timeline and other time relative information

TOSaB in total covers 13 days starting with Scarlett waking up in the Wilds and ending at the Free Isles: 2 days to get from Cheltenham to Lechlade + 4 days in Lechlade + 1 day of the chase down Thames + 4 day in floodlands + 1 day to reach lagoon + 1 day at Free Isles.

from dialogue we also get that first there was Cataclysm, then The Great Dying and then Frontier Wars between the kingdoms. i'd say that information tracks.

in Lechlade old woman told Albert that her family has been in this town for 15 generations, which is about 300-450 years depending on how long a generation is. so Surviving Towns are at least 300 years old but could be much older.

and, thanks to TLSaB, we now know for sure that Scarlett and Albert are around 18 years old in the first book, so Calloway was spot on with Scarlett's age when the two got into confrontation.

[bayofwolves]

Rereading Immortal Guardians

It's been a minute...

At long last, I have begun rereading my favourite arc of the series, part one of Fall of the Beasts. Have a look at some of the notes I compiled as I went, if you fancy.

I like how Greenhaven is depicted on the cover. It looks much cosier than the grey stone castle I usually imagine. I don't understand the elk heads, though. They look cool, but why do the Greencloaks idolize Tellun so much? All he did (as far as we know) was imprison Kovo and Gerathon after standing by and letting the Four Fallen die, all while supposedly being their leader. If anything, we should be hearing about statues and decorations erected in the Four Fallen's honour. Replace those elk heads with wolf heads; Briggan was the one who originally shaped the Greencloaks into a real army. Have a stone statue of each of the Fallen guarding the four corners of the castle, like they stood with the Greencloaks in life. Briggan to the north. Uraza to the south. Jhi to the east and Essix to the west. Looking out towards their respective homelands.

It's always a bit of a shock when I remember how young Conor, Abeke, Meilin and Rollan are canonically. They start out a bit older in A Revised History of Erdas, and a lot more time passes over the course of the first three arcs.

In the canon timeline, it's been six months since The Evertree. Not long at all! (My timeline has the world at peace for a much lengthier period of twenty-two months.)

"'Someday our survival will rest upon knowing all about ancient Hellan rock decorating, and you're going to thank me,' Meilin said..." This line is funny to me because in the end, it was a creation of the Hellans that saved them.

The hidden section in Greenhaven's library is so intriguing. The librarian has been collecting literature about Stetriol and storing it there, and only certain people are granted access. Not even the Four Heroes knew about it. I don't think Olvan knew either, because he couldn't tell the kids anything about Stetriol when he sent them there. I wonder what other secrets are kept in there -- maybe stuff about the bond tokens? The location of the key to Gerathon's ancient prison? Records of the Stetriolan Genocide (if it truly happened)? Knowledge that might pave their way forward? The Four definitely need to dig into this.

The cover of the mysterious book is made of black snakeskin... which makes me wonder if the creator of the book was referencing Gerathon. How much did she know about the Wyrm, anyway?

All the pain and horror of Conor's infection could have been avoided if they had just amputated his arm at the elbow... but these books aren't based on logic.

Conor has moonbeam decorations on his ceiling! Someday I'll finish my blueprints for the Four's rooms.

When Conor, Meilin and Takoda make it out of the tunnels, I'm betting everything I have that they're all gonna have mad claustrophobia.

I'd argue that the Abeke Rescuing a Baby Animal saga continues in this book with the yak that she saves from the cougars. I just love the heart she has. To think nothing of herself even as blood is pouring out of her neck, only focused on protecting the vulnerable baby. Abeke, you will always be famous.

Anda has a baby sibling!

Anda was named healer for his tribe because Tellun came to him. It's interesting because in ARHoE, Tasha is chosen as Stetriol's next ruler for similar reasons.

Phos Astos is so much cooler than I remembered. The people live in giant mushrooms! They farm spiders (possibly using their silk for clothing and their venom for weapons or medicine)! It's lit by pretty colours and warmed by the earth itself! Amazing.

The Sadreans have spirit animals but no access to the Nectar, meaning they would have suffered from the bonding sickness until recently.

The Hellans and their Sadrean descendants were inspired by the ancient Greeks! Phos indeed means "light" in Greek. Xanthe itself is a Greek name. There are other similarities and references to Greek civilization/mythology later on (like Atalanta and the Meleager).

The Sadrean carvings reveal that Briggan, Uraza and Jhi were close even before their alliance in the First Devourer War! Interestingly, Essix isn't included.

While the chance of Shane meeting Xanthe while in Sadre is slim, it's not out of the question. Phos Astos is an ocean away from southern Amaya, where Shane entered from, but Xanthe is a wanderling and has been all the way to the Evertree before. It's possible that she's journeyed to other far reaches of Sadre, like the tunnels underneath southern Amaya -- or that Shane travelled quite a ways and met her somewhere in the middle. We're not told anything about his venture underground, so anything is possible.

On that note, it seems like different regions of Sadre have different coloured vegetation. Phos Astos is home to pink and green fungi, but the mushroom Shane found was purple.

Jhi has the power to stop sound. This panda is overpowered.

"Meilin turned her head in time to see [Takoda's] tattoo quiver and then disappear." Oh, the tattoos coming alive for a brief moment when the spirit animal enters or leaves the passive state is such a neat detail. I'm definitely keeping that.

Arax charging Abeke in the final battle harks back to Wild Born, when he cornered her after she stole his talisman. Since she was shown to have an affinity for the Granite Ram, I like to see connections being drawn between them.

Conor x Xanthe could have been something, actually. He seems quite enchanted by her, which I find sweet, but when I think about it some more, they have the potential for real depth. Imagine the internal struggle that could have arisen when she discovers he's infected, but by that point has already caught feelings for him. Something I'll explore in an AU, perhaps...

This was a great book. There were a lot of elements introduced that I really enjoyed: The overarching apocalypse, the Sadreans, the lore, the cool cast of new characters, and, of course, King. I have always favoured the aboveground team, but was pleasantly surprised to find the underground plot far more engaging than I remembered. I like Xanthe and Anda, but I'm not so sure about Takoda so far. He's alright, but I can't get a good read on him. His personality was all over the place in this book. I think I need to read some more chapters from his perspective. Thankfully, that is coming! And next time we are introduced to one of my all-time favourite characters: Tasha!

This is part of an ongoing series.

Wild Born | Hunted | Blood Ties | Fire and Ice | Against the Tide | Rise and Fall | The Evertree

Immortal Guardians | Broken Ground | The Return | The Burning Tide

Heart of the Land | The Wildcat's Claw | Stormspeaker | The Dragon's Eye

Tales of the Great Beasts | The Book of Shane | Tales of the Fallen Beasts

[greatwyrmgold]

I've been thinking about Kaido's Fish-Fish Fruit: Model Azure Dragon. (Or Uo Uo no Mi, Model: Seiryu, if you don't like translating Devil Fruits.) I'm going to frame the thoughts I want to talk about most as an attempt to answer three questions.

A: Why is it a fish?

Traditionally, Chinese dragons are described as having the characteristics of (usually) nine other animals. One such list is: camel head, stag antlers, demon eyes, snek neck, clam belly, carp scales, eagle claws, tiger soles, and cow ears. Others include things like frog bellies and rabbit eyes and crocodile heads and goat goatees and tortoise viscera, but most include carp scales and no other fish features. Unless we count shellfish.

So, the Azure Dragon has some fishy characteristics. But even if we count the clam belly, it has far more resemblances to non-fish animals than fish ones. For instance, the camel head, stag antlers, and cow ears give it three ungulate, which could plausibly make the Azure Dragon fruit an Ox-Ox Fruit/Ushi-Ushi no Mi.

Of course, I'd still question why the Azure Dragon was classified as an ungulate. It has as few hooves as gills. But you could also call it a Snake-Snake Fruit, or you could invent a Liz-Liz Fruit. Or, you could use the Dragon-Dragon category that Kaido's dinosaur-fruit minions fall under. Surely Chinese dragons qualify as dragons?

Aside: The Japanese term for dinosaurs is kyōryū, which includes ryū, which means dragon.

B: Are there other fish?

The existence of a Fish-Fish Fruit: Azure Dragon Model implies the existence of other kinds of Fish-Fish Fruits. Carp or trout or sharks; judging by what kinds of animal get Fishmen, maybe even whales and cephalopods and the weird fishlike species on the Grand Line.

There aren't any non-dragon Fish-Fish Fruits. I don't find that surprising; the sea hates Devil Fruit users, hence their iconic weakness to seawater. Marine Zoan fruits would be a bit against theme. Also, the iconic abilities most fish have are swimming and breathing underwater; these powers obviously aren't much use if you get paralyzed when dunked in water, never mind if said powers get nullified while immersed.

Some fish (especially the broader definition that includes most marine animals) have other features that could be useful out of water. Archerfish and cephalopods and anglerfish and creatures big enough for their strength to rival or exceed an elephant's. But the existence of fish Devil Fruits raises questions that terrestrial Devil Fruits wouldn't.

Then again, a Fish-Fish Fruit that isn't a fish also raises those same questions, as well as others.

C: Are there Devil Fruits for the other Auspicious Beasts?

"Azure Dragon" is a very specific creature. The Azure Dragon is one of the Four Auspicious Beasts, mythological creatures and constellations from China. There's the Black Tortoise* of the North, the White Tiger of the West, the Vermilion Bird of the South, and the Azure Dragon of the East. And sometimes a Yellow Dragon or Qilin in the center.

*Sometimes a warrior or a turtle/snake

They're a thing, they seem pretty significant, and Kaido has the powers of one of them. What about the other three? (Or four.) You could probably equate the Vermilion Bird with Marco's Bird-Bird/Phoenix fruit, if his feathers weren't made of blue fire. But they are, which means that only one out of four (or five) Auspicious Beasts is represented.

To be fair, the Azure Dragon is by far the coolest Auspicious Beast. Sorry, west; a white tiger might be auspicious, but it's just a big albino cat. I guess the Yellow Dragon is also pretty cool (when it's included), but Azure is a way more mythic color name.

[trivialbob]

Last night Sheila and I went to a seafood place. For a cheeseburger.

Coastal Seafoods in Minneapolis is a fresh seafood market. It's a neat little place. When @littlerunnergurl visited us years ago she and I shopped there for ingredients of a seafood stew LRG made for us.

There's a small counter for hot food in back. Two four-tops and a small row of bars stools next to a cold window is the complete dining room. A Facebook page devoted to smashburgers had mentioned this place's burger recently. That's what got us over there.

We ordered one Coastal Burger. "Two 4oz Wagyu Beef Patties, Caramalized Onion Jam, Pickles, American Cheese, & Dijon Mayo on Toasted Brioche!" (images from the Coastal Foods website)

I also ordered the wonderful looking Connecticut Style Lobster Roll. "Warm Lobster & Seasoned Butter on a Toasted Tom Cat Bakery Roll"

The cook cut them in half so Sheila and I could try some of each. Both were fantastic. We didn't order French fries or any sides. The older I get the wiser I am about not ordering too much food. For sure if there had been a serving of fries in front of me I wouldn't have left until the plate was clean. As it was, we walked out feeling satisfied yet not needing to adjust the car seats back so we could fit in the Subaru.

I'd been wanting to see some dive bars. A block away is the Fraternal Order of Eagles #34. It's an appropriately dimly lit place where most of the customers seemed to know each other. We didn't order food, but I almost did just to purchase a cheeseburger for under ten bucks, a rare thing these days.

The bartender was friendly. She knew what to pour for people a few times without asking. I chuckled when she asked us if we'd be okay for a bit unattended when she went outside for a quick smoke.

It's located at the intersection of two similarly named streets. When I was a kid it was mind-blowing when I saw Minneapolis street signs with the same numbers. Sure, the Av and St make a difference, but it still seemed like division by zero to someone not yet accustomed to how cities named numbered east/west and north/south roads. Similarly, I was amazed when my dad pointed out the named streets in some places were in freaking alphabetical order.

After a bottle of beer (and a sunset) we drove south a short distance through the cold and dark night to the Schooner Tavern. It too is at an intersection of numbered streets.

It was a bit louder, but no less dimly lit, than the previous place. The two bartenders were very friendly. Sheila and I again sat at the bar for one beer.

We listened to conversations around us. It was only 5:30 PM but some folks appeared to have started the evening early. A frazzled looking guy (who was probably 15 years younger than he actually appeared) must have gotten the happy hour special on "fucks" which seem to have been a 20-for-1 deal. Whew, I got tired of hearing that word used as noun, verb, adjective, preposition, pronoun, article, and adverb.

The bottles behind the bar appeared to glow. If the bar had been quieter maybe I would have heard them hum.

Sometimes I want of those tiny Red Bull refrigerators with the glass door (as seen in the left side of this picture I took). Sheila doesn't think it would look appropriate on our coffee table no matter how well it fit. People would probably trip over the power cord she also claims. I still want one though.

We still enjoyed the atmosphere while we had one beer. After that we headed to the brewery by our house. It's at the intersection of one named and one numbered street, more to the sensibilities of my suburban mind.

We met up with one couple we know and another couple who were on a second date. The guy is a regular, the woman is new to that crowd. At first she seemed like she wanted to move to a private table. Soon though she warmed up to us, and the six of us had a great conversation.

I'm going to start looking up some more dive bars for another weekend.

[viskarenvisla]

The Night Is Ours: Chapter 2 - The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner

My hands squeeze the steel lance; I thrust it upward, a bladed threat at the pyramid's heart as an ebon banner flutters from the blade. Four golden crowns limned in flame burn upon the black field.

I hear Celais' Valkyrie-voice singing in my ear: "do it for the undying glory.”

The pyramid shiver-steams dread silver against the Moon; its wail-gaze haunts the sky, heavy as venom.

The priestess wears a girdle of soulless iron and slither-dances. Slice-and-shimmer flick her claws, flaying open their chests. Three of them, my own kind, she tears their hearts forth like grizzly babes from their chests.

One lays pinned facing West; his War-Form death-spasms and froths, eyes burst in fury to tear down his face and reform, covetous-green.

One lays pinned facing East; his blasphemy is one long stream of colored smoke escaping his lips, hypodermic-quills dagger-struck along his veins.

One lays pinned facing South; she stares at me with stoic, violet eyes that mist with tears only I can see. Her jaws quiver-clench around chains.

The Priestess hurls their screaming-babe hearts into the silver pyramid's furnace belly; smoke billow-belches from its top, blackening the sky, blotting out the moon as it tears down the middle and bleeds. They howl in woe as their flesh regrow, and the priestess repeats her dance.

My hands squeeze the steel lance; I thrust it upward, a bladed threat at the pyramid's heart as an ebon banner flutters from the blade. Four golden crowns limned in flame burn upon the black field.

I hear Celais' Valkyrie-voice singing in his ear: "do it for the undying glory.”

“Do it for the undying glory,” I let the words float from my lips like red smoke. One moment I was a prisoner of some real fucked up dreams; the next I was staring up at the ceiling, tracking the motion of the fan blades, mixing the air with a steady whump-whump-whump. At first I didn't quite get why my body was all tightened up, teeth clattering together because it'd just been that long since I was cold enough to shiver.

The temperature in here was well below 70°. Once that would have been no-shirt-just-shorts weather for me, but the Gulf heat was fetid and wet. I'd gotten so used to it that this chilly bliss was a shock. 

The weight of the dream still sat heavily on my frontal cortex; it was tempting to just lie there and contemplate it, to search for meaning but there'd be time for that later.

Time to get my ass up.

I heard my tendons pop and crackle as I unwrapped myself from the blanket. Yawning like a lion, I kept it quiet out to the main room to check on Galen, and sure enough he was still snoring. The male impulse to do something shit-headed to him in his sleep came and went, and instead I pulled his quilt over his feet and pulled the curtains shut.

There was a pad of sticky paper on an otherwise empty shelf, and with a bit of quiet hunting I found a ballpoint pen. I scratched out a note and stuck it to the arm of the couch: 

dear wanker,

I'm going to see if Tanner is gonna be a thing tonight, figured he'd be more likely to stay in one piece if I went alone, besides you were sleeping like a princess, see you when I get back your highness, call T's mom's number if you need me, drink water you sweat-stained pig

I took a moment to scribble a googly-eyed boar all drenched in perspiration for good measure, and then took my bad self back out into the heat. A washing machine would have been nice, but a good soak in soapy water and a few hours hanging in front of a fan meant clean clothes. Hygiene, cleanliness, these were human dignities I was just unwilling to abandon. Celais and Galen poke fun all they wanted, I didn’t smell like bog and sweat (thing is I actually loved when Celais went for a while without showering, the smell drove me and Galen wild).

Tanner lived with his mom now out in Baycrest, which was located curiously far from the Bluewater Bay. If I took public transit straight out there it’d probably be a roughly thirty minute shot, but I couldn’t just go directly because the line cut through other Hunting Grounds. It was dangerous for a lone Firstblood to cross territorial boundaries, perilous for us to even use public transit unless lines were clearly under our control. Seeing as Penn’s Point belonged to us, that meant the Red Crows wouldn’t dare set foot there or even take the train through unless they wanted to pick a fight… once I had eyes and ears on that station, that is. Lesser Therids would know to keep their distance as well so… no cats or bats running wild.

To get out to Tanner’s place I’d have to circumvent the River District; I had no doubt the Red Crows had set up wards around the area that, like arcane cameras, would alert them if I crossed and trap my scent. The train would be going through what amounted to urban wilderness, but I was pretty much safe as long as I didn’t step out of the train. Still, going without Galen was a bit stupid… but you live only once.

Besides. If I’m being perfectly honest, Tanner’s chances of survival were considerably higher if Galen didn’t come along. It wasn’t like the guy was unhinged or anything but we all had that trigger-point, something that just put us over the edge. For Accursed Beings that usually meant a loss of control, giving in to violent impulse… it wasn’t something I wanted to take contingency against or even have to think about. Dodgy or not about his past, Galen had his reasons to be impatient with addicts. I saw part of what lay at the root of his descent though, and the sorrow of that guy’s tale moved me. Tanner had lost something beautiful in a night of sudden terror, and where he found oblivion in heroin, our second guitarist discovered solace in music. I had no right to steal that from him, and if G didn’t either.

Galen kept me on my toes because our bro-llegiance had so much to do with constant competition, and because we were rarely apart I didn’t have a lot of time to contemplate. Celais and the other Alphas had conscripted seven of us in the beginning. We all knew what she really meant when she told us a pack was only as strong as its weakest link, driving us to hunt in the equivalent of warzones for Therids. Angel wasn’t the only one resting in power; we’d gathered what pieces remained of Kendra and buried them in the woods. Corinth was probably still somewhere out there, screaming his jaws apart whenever he saw the moon screaming back. Snowy and Tinsel made it, they were off in New Orleans and nobody knew what happened to Left-Eye.

Right now, with the way I was being, the pack’s weakest link was me.

I felt like I never had time to cope with the things I’ve had to do out there, the people I’ve had to kill and the horrible shit I’ve seen crawling out of the Jungle. Ever since I met Galen and Celais it’s always just been go go go, never stop Hunting or running.

A rain-thick wind from the gulf clawed the train window, storm scent and heat plucking at my memories. I hummed the song quietly before the lyrics came to life of their own accord.

"Ruuun, on and ooon,"

"Ruuun, on and ooon,"

"The looonelineeess of the looong distance runner…”

I sang it quietly, didn’t want to disturb the other faceless, nameless passengers. Celais loved that song, big Iron Maiden fan. Her absence was like a sharp stone in my chest, cutting into me with each pulse of my heart. Galen felt the same way, how couldn’t he? In the bloody context of our lives she was like Great Kali given flesh, a whirlwind of divine violence and a prophetess bringing word of a better future. She was the ultimate alpha, a mutual lover.

The arrangement was complex but for some reason everything had just fallen into place - neither of us felt jealousy or rancor over the fact that she adored us both, that we shared her affection.

I opened my wallet and pulled out an elegant fang, pale as a piano key. It was heavy with Celais’ scent, sharp with memory. I pressed it against my lips, drawing a bead of blood. 

I remember when she gave it to me on the last night I saw her, she’d pressed it into my palm and curled my fingers around it, hard enough that the tip bit into my flesh. 

“The Curse changed me from the person I was into the monster I am,” she’d murmured in a voice reverberant with reverence, stepping close to speak against my lips. Her scent was blood spilled by steel, flash-burnt cinnamon, her sweat tinged with the wild bite of her pheromones. “You, Yusuf, helped me become more. I lost this when I made my first kill. After the Jungle swallowed me down, I kept it to recall the human I’d once been.” She’d kissed me, tasting of storm-ozone and iron. “The woman, Celais, is yours Yusuf, but so is the monster.” Her nails had hissed along my jawline, as if to mark me as hers. “If you waver, my beautiful prince, breathe deep - remember the monster you must be.”

Another alpha who went by Lucas ‘Last-Laugh’ told me we were effectively immortal and wouldn’t ever age. He also told me that as the years trudged on, it became hard to remember much besides the Hunt and the secrets of Prey. I could never forget Celais, not if I made it another million moonrises. I pressed the fang against my tongue, sharp with her taste. Memory bled from it, and I recalled -

- November’s sylvan hush, cracked by firelight and the chirrup of crickets… my fingers idly plucking guitar strings.

It was just she and I… Galen was a day’s run ahead with Snowy, chasing down a foolish snitch who thought the Feral Brood would protect her after informing on us.

She’d built the campfire in whose light they lay, basking in each other’s light after their earlier lovemaking beneath the stars. The intensity of the experience had been sharpened with the need to keep it (somewhat) down. I stared at her face limned in firelight, lain against my chest… how would I describe someone like her? A jawline elegant as a saber’s blade cuts, skin warm as amber, smooth as lacquered brass. When she stood she was nearly eye to eye with me, imposing as a Khan, supple as an acrobat.

Earlier I’d found this old guitar in an abandoned cottage and insisted on bringing it. It sang an old Andalusian melody my mother taught me. “Yusuf,” she purred in a voice edged with husky heat, “when Fall comes, I’m taking off on my own Hunt.” She pushed back a lock of short crimson hair, beryl eyes sharp as a brush stroke.

I’d suspected she would… didn’t hurt any less to hear. “What’s the Prey?” I asked quietly in a futile attempt to hide my disappointment. 

I could tell she was debating whether or not to extrapolate. The details of her comings and goings were always a secret, like a wizard she’d appear from the mist and vanish just as suddenly. “We found a Banner in Gansu.” 

My fingers froze, my heart syncopating in shock. 

“Harkness has it, and he’s coming back… but he’s being chased by its former keepers, and there are many to kill.” She watched me process the news, that we’d found one of the actual Black Banners, the artifacts that were a namesake of our conspiracy; artifacts that could protect us from Outsiders, our only real predators.

“Let us come,” I entreated on reflex, even though I knew she’d reject me gently; it wasn’t because she wanted space between us, or that she doubted Galen’s or my acumen on the Hunt. “Celais please, just consider - ” but she silenced me with a fierce kiss, swift as a blade drawn. Her slender lips carried that steel-and-cinnamon taste, and she straddled my lap like a conqueror claiming me as hers.

“Yusuf my love. You’re so strong and un-fucking-scared of anything. I want you with me. I want you both with me, my handsome kings…” her eyes fluttered shut as I hungrily sought the candy-pink hardness of her nipples. “The Banner… it needs a place to stand, and you two will secure it for me. Picture it Yusuf, nnf… a… mustering place for the packs, but first - ” her breath hitched, “you’re going to ride me again…”

I knew I was smiling like a fool - dreamy, wistful, a bit sad. Celais and I had something that went beyond lovers or even Pack - in that way she lived the Black Banner ethos, uniting us in ways that went beyond our primal drives. The Jungle was everywhere, seething with conniving Prey and curse-wracked Beasts, but Celais Song had shown me when we worked as one, we Firstbloods were unstoppable.

Hunt like a Wolf; make war like a Human. With the fell magic of the Curse and the protection of the Black Banner we could make and take whatever we wanted.

I won’t lie… sometimes when Galen and I got drunk, we’d talk about why we loved her. Do you think that kind of thing happens easily between two guys? Let me just be real clear: both of us were regularly having unprotected sex with her and competing to get her off. Both of us were smitten with her, real hearts-in-eyes stuff. It never once occurred to either of us that by her loving one and the other, we’d somehow lose her. Beyond that she represented hope for stability, a life where we held the torments of the Jungle at bay. As it was, nowhere was safe.

We’d seen it with our own eyes, what could happen in places like Baton Rouge when the Lunar Strain got out of control. They’d built a cluster of fanes along the Mississippi, places where the moonlight bent into something the Outsiders could climb down to feast on their souls. I tried hard not to picture them, the gibbering beasts lost of all reason and self, ruined husks of Werewolves whose minds the Outsiders had ravened clean.

The aspect of the Curse impressed on us by the Moon was as much a boon on the Hunt as it was a danger; all of us used Lunar-wrought imprecations and hexes just to survive. If you delved too deep into that stuff, didn’t prepare yourself with protections, the Lunar Strain could take hold. Before you knew it, you weren’t Enkindled or a Night-Howler anymore.

That could change with a Banner. Holding one of the Qing Dynasty relics was more than just glorious victory; they could protect every Werewolf for miles and miles from Outsiders, from Moon-Madness.

That’s why we had our mission: clearing the way in Ashland for a Hunting Grounds where the Banner could stand safe. More than just a territory…a fortress of the soul, safe from Outsiders, from Empyreans and the Primordials.

-KSSsSST- NEXT STOP IS BAYCREST AND HOFFMAN, -wheeze- BAYCREST AND HOFFMAN-

Right, right. There was my signal to come back down to Earth. All of this was in pursuit of that goal. From slaughterhousing that Spider-Ogre to making sure Tanner was in tip-top shape for tonight, every step of the plan had a purpose.

The train car was crowded with Mortals; large groups simultaneously smelled sweet and stank to high heaven which was something Celais had little tolerance for. A small island of space had formed around where I sat; human-instinct was still sharp enough that they either subconsciously kept their distance or were unerringly drawn to us in some cases. They parted around me as I waded to the door.

Baycrest occupied one of the few hills that could be found in Pomdufond Parish. It was a collection of cookie-cutter condos and country clubs that had formed a little bubble of space at the edge of the urban decay. Tanner had grown up there, and it was there he returned; I couldn’t blame him for taking the free bed. Renting in Ashland was becoming a nightmare. It wasn’t like he worked in any real sense of the word so Tanner had to be home, if he wasn’t out trying to score. I hoped he wasn’t. His mom, on the other hand, did work… some menial office lady job with local government.

The two of them lived in a condominium that had a sort of washed-out white cast that looked like bone under the cloudy sky. A cross hung above the doorway, like it would somehow keep the Night at bay; far as I knew that didn’t work against anything in the Jungle, least of all me. Wasn’t like I was here to hurt anyone.

Being out here made chills run up my spine, and I glanced over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t being followed. The well-kept streets and picket fences were a disguise - the Jungle was everywhere, and I had no doubt I’d traipsed through someone’s turf everytime I came to see Tanner. I knocked, waiting impatiently before trying a second time after I heard Tanner inside trying not to make noise. I could smell his unwashed body from the foot of his driveway.

For fuck’s sakes. If Tanner wasn’t answering it could mean that he was zombied-out or in trouble… maybe he owed a dealer money. I’d taken care of that sort of problem before quietly by just paying the guy off and not-so-calmly instructing him to never sell to Tanner again.

“Yo. Tanner open up, it’s Mizrah. Come on dude I know you’re in there.” I tried my best to keep my agitation at bay; I really didn’t want to be outside longer than needed.

The chain-latch and turnbolt clicked open, and Tanner swung the door open. "Sorry man I was sleepin'," he lied.

I immediately took his measure. Tanner was a good three inches over six feet but didn't look it because of his perpetual slouch, like the weight of his trauma had turned his spine to taffy. I felt this unkind urge to snap at him and shove his shoulder so that he’d stand at his full height. Celais’ words about the weakest link gnawed at the back of my mind.

Tanner’s eyes reminded me of a sad cow’s. His pupils weren’t dilated at least, and with a bit of focus I could hear his regular breathing, his even heartbeat… good, no indication he was heaped out.

“It’s all good brother, just wanted to see how you’re getting on.” I tried to give him a reassuring smile, remembering not to show too much teeth… they didn’t like that.

Tanner reflexively straightened his mustard-and-soda stained hoodie, as if that would somehow serve to render him less slovenly. I could see his pulse throbbing at his throat, quickening. "Good. No problems here," he answered a little too quickly. My bullshit barometer ticked, but not loudly… mostly I was just glad to see he was outwardly okay. "You know you didn't have to take the lines all the way out here, coulda just called."

"I wanted to see you for myself, you'll always tell anyone you're doing fine even if your house is burning down around you." I gave his shoulder a gentle tap; it only seemed to make him more nervous, barely flinching at my touch… had to remember that the things I once thought were comforting might just unsettle people now. "Sooo. Can I come inside?" I asked after a second.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry again, shit.” He slinked back inside - I caught him glancing warily beyond me - and shut the door… literally inviting a monster into his house.

“It’s good man,” I promised him lightly. I couldn’t expect Mortals to just let me into their homes anymore, not since I Changed. It was the same with Galen, the same with all of us but most humans could be prompted by social etiquette to look past their survival instincts. "I'm not sticking around long, got a busy afternoon, and then...it's showtime."

Tanner’s place seemed to have inherited its decor from Generic Interior Design Weekly. The only hint of individual personality took the form of photographs along the wall that told his family’s saga… I’d made the mistake of looking at them for too long and remembering the life I’d lost. There, a picture of Tanner as a fat little kid with his well-meaning, haggard mother. His father, who looked just like Tanner but with that all-American dad ‘stache, had his own little section of wall with its own altar… never did find out how he died, never asked.

No weed stink, no booze reek… the only thing that stood out was the fact that Tanner wasn’t showering regularly but that wasn’t my concern.

Tanner came back from the kitchen with a Josta… supposedly these things woke you up like coffee. “Thanks,” I muttered, wrinkling my nose at the syrupy red flavor. Whenever I drank soda these days I had to resist the urge to sneeze.

"I wanted to see for myself, you'll always tell anyone you're doing fine." Mizrah gently tapped Tanner's shoulder with a fist; the motion seemed to only make the other man more nervous… had to remind himself that a lot of the things he'd once done to comfort others would only unsettle them now. "Sooo. Can I come inside?"

"Oh! Yeah sorry again, shit." Tanner stepped aside and motioned for Yusuf to enter - literally inviting a monster into his home.

"It's good," Yusuf reassured him. Mortals no longer simply allowed him or Galen to enter their living space since they'd Changed, they had to be prompted for social etiquette to overcome muted survival instincts. "I'm not sticking around long, got a busy afternoon, and then...it's showtime." "Let's just cut to the chase. I came down here to see if you were gonna be in good shape for tonight's show… and you're looking pretty good bud." Encouragement and expectation mixed into one; sometimes hard not to just dominate him which would have been easier but soul-tainting. "You'll be there tonight right?"

“Of course I will. I swear Mizrah, I haven’t used since the thing in Tallahassee. Honest.” His voice quavered a bit, never taking his bovine eyes from me - like he was worried I was going to lunge for his throat… shit I was just sitting on his couch. “Things are getting better for me. It’s good being with my mom again, y’know?”

Yeah, I did know… I missed mine pretty bad, actually. I quaffed the Josta in one fell swoop and belched draconically into my elbow. “You been sleeping alright? Lora said you were having some bizarre dreams.”

I tried to keep my face from falling as Tanner mumbled a mess of glossolalia… he didn’t do that before the attack, apparently.

“Come again Tan?” I prompted him gently but he still flinched, like he was red and raw all over.

"Uhh… I actually sleep okay, unless I see this one cat. Two cats, not others, just… thooose two cats. Yeah, twoooo of em, one’s… orn…." Tanner trailed off. His eyes got all glassy, like his brain was struggling with a memory suppressed by the Shrouding Effect - it was what kept Mortals from remembering us clearly if they saw a Therid do something otherworldly like shapeshift. More than likely those two cats were more than they seemed - the Jungle was always close at hand.

Even if Tanner managed to describe them in perfect detail, it wasn’t like I’d just be able to find two cats without a scent trail, a tracking dweomer or a shot of Haemovectrin. The Hissers that had gotten his girlfriend and her kid were still out there; they’d probably gone after the two of them over some petty grudge cuz they hadn’t eaten the bodies. It'd actually been Galen who got to Tanner first, untouched but sobbing incoherently over their broken, slaughtered bodies; he said their guts had been bitten out, left to steam while they died from blood loss and shock.

That was why I felt so bad for him; what happened to Tanner’s girl and her kid weren’t my fault, but I somehow felt a responsibility for him because it came from my world. 

"Alright well… guess you better keep a spray bottle with you." Tanner stared at me without comprehension. "Y'know. To squirt them if they get close,” I explained weakly.

"Ohh right, yeah, heh." Tanner fidgeted with his Josta bottle, an awkward moment of quiet passing between us. I could smell fear in his sweat… he seemed particularly on edge, which didn’t exactly help me restrain myself around him. I won’t lie, I felt a bit uneasy myself, like something had been watching him for a while before I came here.

"If they're hanging around you, call me or Galen and let us know… and practice for tonight, okay? We're playing Capitalist Facefuck, Corpse Golem, and Ashen Banners." It felt good to see him rally a bit; Tanner had helped write his part for those songs. "I'm glad you're doing good man… you're doing good, right?" It occurred to me that I hadn't actually asked the other man, just kind of presumed and pushed how I wanted the guy to feel.

His eyes met mine, and in his sad gaze I read a complex of messages.

I'm not okay. I suffer.

I will never be who I was.

The Night took from me, and I'll never be whole.

Guilt stabbed me in the heart without clear cause; it was hard not to apologize. Nothing I could do for him would bring him back to who he was.

“Yeah man. I’m alright. I’ll be there at tonight’s show and it’ll be a Jimmy-rustler.” Tanner gave me his best smile, an effort that didn’t reach his eyes. I bumped his fist and gave my farewells, relieving him from the pressure of my presence. Yeah… he’d be alright, long as I kept checking in on him. Maybe I could Enthrall some local Prey to keep an eye on him; we needed that second guitarist, and it kept me in tune with the echoes of my humanity. I wasn’t ready to just throw that all away at the feet of the Nameless God of the Hunt… not even for Galen. Not even for Celais.

As I made my way back to the bus stop, I caught sight of a pair of mean looking cats watching me from under a rusty Mazda 5 across the street. One was a big, scarred thing with bristling orange fur, the other smaller and gray.

Someone’s rickety old mansion loomed behind them. They watched me unerringly in that way cats do, but their attention never shifted from me; I could feel them watching even when I got on the bus. “Just some fuckin’ neighborhood critters,” I mumbled to nobody but myself; it wasn’t like every stray was a Therid lying in wait.

When I sat down, I hazarded a glance out the window once more. My blood froze when I saw the orange cat collapsed on its side, tongue lolling out from its jaw. Its guts were splayed beneath the Mazda, the gray cat’s maw dark with blood. It looked at me through the window with its pale eyes, shining with unmitigated hatred as the bus pulled away.

[akwolfgrl]

I'm a great fuck but better lover

Usopp was sitting at the table writing his letter to Kaya. He hadn't been able to pick her code name, stuck between buttercream and saffron, when Sanji came back from delivering snacks. He had been wondering why he had skipped him, but before he could bring himself to speak up about it, Sanji spoke.

“Usopp, do you want the special snack I promised you now or later?” Sanji asked.

“Now!” Usopp popped his head up from his letter to have something made special just for him! He was the only one who hadn't had anything special so far!

“Look what that old geezer sent me. It's my tin fish subcision,” Sanji placed a small open box on the table before taking a seat. “I know as a chef I could cook fresh fish, but these are not just from the east blue! They send you a curated box of four to five tins of fish from eatch sea, and the glandline isn't always included. So pick a tin, and we can try it together, and I'll make something from it,”

“I don't know anything about them, maybe tell me where thire from and then I'll pick,” Usopp didn't know much about different kinds of fish outside of the east blue.

“Sure!” Sanji eyes sparkled with excitement. “First we have from east blue a Markel in korma suace, west blue we have spicy muscles I know we have muscles here but these are a different species and are much larger and meater, south blue we have a coconut octopus in olive oil, the best olive oil comes from the south blue, and last we have Smoked herring from the north blue,”

“That one,” Usopp pointed to the herring it was the biggest tin after all. He wanted to get the most that he could out of the snack.

“Sure let's taste it first before deciding what to do,” Sanji put away the other tins. Usopp chose to look away from where the cook was hiding them. That way, he could deny ever seeing them if Luffy ever caught wind of their existence. “Here,” Sanji handed him chopsticks and opened the tin. “It should have a slight smokey taste and be flaky, “

Usopp tool the chopsticks and broke off a piece of the fish. It was good, of course, but he was more excited to see what Sanji would make.

“Hmm, I think I'll keep it simple and go with three different styles on top of crackers, sweet, spicy, and savory,” Sanji left the table, taking the tin with him. After rummaging around for he a bit, he came back with six large carkerks. “First the sweet, we have cloudberry jam,”

Usopp took the cracker and ate it. The sweetness and furitness from the jam worked well with the salty smoky fish.

“Next savory with banana peppers,”

Usopp ate the next one, “I like the Jam one better,” Not that he didn't like this one. “A little dry,”

“Mm your right. If I have cream cheese, I'd have added it, but this next one should be better. It has kimchi,”

“Qhats kimchi?” Usopp asked, taking a bite. “Mm it's good,” It was spicy, and Usopp liked spicy food.

“That Kimchi is cabbage, daikon radish and green onions, it's not very fremanted yet but still good, want some more kimchi?”

“Yes please,”

“Usopp, if you draw me more pictures of the crew with Mr. Noddles, we can keep doing this once a week. If Zeff keeps sending my subscription,”

“You've got a deal!” Usopp wanted to try the other fish.

“Hey, if you want you can borrow my fish book, I keep it in the kitchen so you can read it anytime you want,” Sanji offered him cleaning up thire snack while Usopp continued to eat the kimchi he had been served.

“Sure, the great capitan Usopp is an excellent fisherman! It couldn't hurt to know more about fish, I catch em and you cook em!” Usopp actually was a pretty decent fisherman if he did say so himself. Sanji chuckled and grinned, Usopp totally saw what Zoro saw in the blonde man. Wait, no! He didn't! He had Kaya back home!

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: Respect the Birth [13]

*SMUT WARNING!!!!*

Me and The Faces made it home hours ago. I still haven't texted Sal back and I don't plan to. Not now at least-- I'm going to have to let it marinate. He's still a dick and I'm exhausted from the hellhole that was the Dark Autumn Complex concert.

Don't get me wrong, the music itself and meeting North, East, and South was fucking amazing. But I learned way more than I ever wanted to.

Ash and I took quick showers earlier then climbed into bed, ditching all three of the other boys.

It's about two in the morning. Ash is snoring softly behind me and I haven't been able to fall asleep at all yet. I've just been sitting here, staring up at the ceiling and feeling sorry for myself. And worse, I've had to pee really bad for the past fifteen minutes.

But I'm afraid to get up-- I really don't want to disturb Ash. At the same time though, if I don't run to the bathroom, I'm just going to be miserable all night.

Todd was the pampered prince in this living situation. He got the one room in the suite that has a bathroom inside. Meanwhile, the rest of us have to venture out of our bedrooms to go do whatever we need to do.

After a minute of cursing my stupid bladder, I slowly scoot out of bed. I can't afford many expensive things, but I'm really fucking thankful that The Faces can because it's so nice to be able to sneak out without the floor or bed squeaking. My trip out of Ash's bed is so simple and quiet.

Before I slip out of the room, I grab my mask. I can't risk getting caught without it.

I walk toward the bathroom, mask haphazardly wrapped around my face just because I honestly couldn't care less. I'm tired and I need to pee-- no one can see my face even if I just threw this thing on half assed.

I drag my feet, smacking my lips and rubbing my eyes as I turn the corner into the kitchenette where our bathroom lies just beyond.

Moonlight glitters into the small kitchen, illuminating the cold, tiled flooring with a pale blue sheen. It lights up my path, making it seem as though it's almost glowing. If I weren't particularly groggy and exhausted tonight, I'd admire it a bit. But at the moment, I'm more than ready to crawl back into bed with Ash and snuggle into her warmth.

I pass the kitchen, walking right up to the bathroom door and leaving the hypnotizing moon behind.

I lick my lips and slap a hand onto the light switch, hearing a resounding grunt in response that has a shriek building in my throat. Since when do light switches grunt? And since when do light switches feel like skin?

A hand slaps onto my mouth and the building scream catches before it can leave my mouth. I just watch ahead of me, trying to see through the dark.

A bare, pale chest finally makes it's way into my line of vision and I blink, squinting my eyes as my gaze travels up until I'm looking into two prosthetic eyeholes.

Relief and anger simultaneously swell within me as I shove Sal's hand off of my face. "For fuck's sake," I hiss out, taking a step toward him. An intimidation tactic, I guess? "What is wrong with you!? I was about to drop kick you, dick-head."

"As if you could," he grumbles back, eyes midnight black with the lack of lighting. But the itching at the back of my brain says he's staring right at me.

"Oh, yea?" I bite back. "Wanna find out?"

I don't wait for answer, just shove past him and into the bathroom, finally switching on the light I was so desperately seeking. But as I go to close the door, Sal's hand catches it, his long, pale fingers wrapping around the side of the wood and keeping it in place even though I try to put more pressure into closing it.

Sal just meets my force with some force of his own, easily getting the door to open again until he's standing in front of me in all his... bare chest... toned tummy perfection.

I huff out a sigh, thankful that my mask can hide the sudden blush on my cheeks, though it can't do a single thing for the way my eyes immediately trail down his body. Still, I manage to force out the words, "What do you want?"

Once I finally peel my gaze away from his body and look at his face, Sal looks stuck for a moment. Something about his slightly wide eyes and risen eyebrows hints that he may be gaping under that damn prosthetic of his.

So, I tilt my head, waiting for a response through the mild shock of seeing him not so confident and all lost for words. It's... it feels really weird to see him like this.

But then his eyes relax, as do his eyebrows, and he steps into the bathroom. Crosses the threshold. And shuts the door behind him.

He's either here to bitch at me, or...

I gulp down the wave of expectations and emotions that rushes through me all at once. Part of me is warm, wondering if he's here to honor the promise I'd given up on. The other part of me-- a bigger part-- is on guard. This is not like Sal. In fact, this is a bit concerning.

I don't know. Maybe he's going to kill me. I wouldn't be all that surprised with how much he seems to despise me. Just as I despise him in some cases.

He still says nothing. And I'm tired of waiting.

I take a shaky breath and take a little step back. "Look, if you have nothing to say, can you let me pee in peace? Argue with me later."

"Do you have to go that bad?" He finally speaks. But his words are stupid as shit.

I stare at him, dumbfounded as awkwardness pulses between us. "What-- I-- why would you even fucking ask me that?"

Sal narrows his eyes and bends his head down, a tinge of aggravation flashing in his eyes. "Just answer the question."

"Holy fuck," I groan out, shoving a hand into his chest until he takes a staggering step back. "Yes. I actually do have to go that bad. Now fuck off."

Sal turns without a word and leaves the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Okay. He must be on drugs. There's no damn way that interaction just happened with both of us sober. Something has to be making him act all weird. I'm so... I'm so weirded out that I'm considering saying fuck it and just running back to Ash's room.

But I use the restroom instead, just so I'm not miserable through the night, wash my hands, then open the door and flick of the light.

Only to get shoved back into the bathroom.

Rage consumes me. This guy is starting to tick me off. Something weird is up with him tonight and I genuinely don't want to stick around to find out. "Sal, what the fuck are you--"

"I'm trying to keep my word and I don't know about you, but this seems like a perfect opportunity to me," his deep voice rasps at least an octave lower. Barely hidden desire is reflected in his tone that only grows quieter and closer as I find my breath catching in my throat.

I look every which way, trying to catch a glimpse of him in the darkness as my heart thumps wildly in my chest.

Is this really about to happen? Do I want him to honor his promise? Am I ready to do this-- here, with all of our friends just a door or two away?

Honestly... yes I am. Weird or not, I have this ridiculously frustrating attraction to Sally Face.

Still...

I'm about to tell him he doesn't have to do this. That our friends are too close and it doesn't matter anyway. But his fingertips brush over the shirt covering my waist. Desperately and hesitantly. But I don't move, and he pauses, assessing my reaction or waiting for one.

When I simply stand there and hold my breath, listening to my wildly pounding heart in my ears, Sal drags his fingertips farther across my waist until his entire hand is under the hem of my shirt and gripping onto my skin, pulling me a step closer.

This feels... it feels funny. Though, I suppose when any two people who have, for example, in our case, bickered so often and are now trying to appease some stomped down desires... I guess it's understandable to be awkward. I just hope that Sal can squash out the odd tension because I don't have the gall too.

Even weirder is how things are going to progress if I can't even kiss him.

As clueless as I may be on occasion (or more so, often), I'm not dumb enough to think that Sal is just going to miraculously pull off his prosthetic and kiss me willingly. He's not some emo knight in shining armor and his prosthetic isn't his weapon. It's a barrier. Everything about him is a barrier. The most impenetrable one that I've ever seen.

I push past the awkward bit just a little, wondering how he'll do this without either of us being able to use anything above our necks. It's incredibly intriguing, especially since, overall, he's pretty confident.

At least, I would assume he's confident considering his hand just moves lower, his fingertips brushing over the waistband of my shorts.

I lick my lips as electricity courses through my body at just the whereabouts of his skin on mine. As frustrating as he is, he manages to make up for his shit personality by being hot in everything he does.

Sal is meticulous. He makes everything he does personal, intimate. It always shows even if he tries to hide it. Shows in his blue hair that brushes my cheek as he leans a bit closer to me. Shows in the curling of his fingers against the fabric of my shorts. Shows in just the sound of his slow breathing. All confidence. All focus.

I wish I could see him more than anything-- even if I'd be looking into his prosthetic. Just to see his outline, his body, his eyes on me.

The odd tension is all but gone as Sal and I stand quietly, his one hand on me and anticipation of what happens next rippling in the air around us. My body is growing warmer by the second, my heart picking up speed and my fingers shaking just a bit.

"Do you remember what I told you that night?" Sal whispers, his otherwise monotone, but raspy voice holding back all of his emotions. But I can see through him. I know he's struggling to move slow. But like I said, he's meticulous. He wants to turn this into something that will resonate with him just as much as it will resonate with me.

And that's something I'm starting to like about him, especially when it comes to moments like this.

"Which part?" I ask in return, my voice coming out soft and shaky despite how hard I try to keep everything together.

The condition of my words must give Sal the last bit of confidence he needs to do something more. The way I nervously put my words together, regardless of how short, tell him that my walls are down for now. And he's him. Of course he'll openly take that opportunity.

Sal's other hand, previously at his side, trails along my other side, skimming over my torso then up the length of my arm. Leaves a trail of fire the entire way. It takes him a frustratingly long time to tease me, just with his hands on such a seemingly uninteresting part of my body. It's aggravating how easily he's able to turn something innocent into something sinful.

His fingers finally run up the side of my neck until they brush along my jaw. I take a quick breath, all of the air in my body stolen at just small, fleeting touches. Fuck, I hate the way I like this so much.

I look up to where I assume his face would be, but I still see nothing. In a way, that makes things ten times more tense. I can't see him-- I can only feel him. Every other sense is heightened and I can feel him, smell him, hear him everywhere.

Sal's hand moves farther, his palm enveloping my ass and squeezing roughly. The feeling shocks me and excites me all at once. I stagger toward him, which is what he wanted, and gasp as I stop myself from knocking both of us over with a hand on his bare chest.

"There you go," he purrs quietly. So that was his game. To get me to touch him too. "And I'm talking about a very specific part. I need you to remember what it is." His voice is thickly coated in lust that he's given up on hiding from me. He's felt how I'm reacting to him. He doesn't have to keep anything at bay when I'm not either.

"Are you--" my voice fails and I clear my throat quietly, trying to will my fingers to stop trembling as I flatten my palm against his chest. It's crazy to think that I'm finally touching him after all this time, even crazier to feel his soft, cool skin beneath mine. "Are you talking about... you wanted me to wait until you were-- until we were--" I can't seem to spit it out. I don't have the confidence to actually say it.

"Speak, Vi," he says, voice dark with warning. "Remember what I told you about using words."

A shiver runs through my body and Sal grips onto my ass even tighter, only heightening my emotions and senses and my nerves. Fuck.

I choke over my own breath, trying to stop myself from having such obvious reactions to every little thing he does. But I can't fucking help it. He's too good. Too good at this.

I swallow thickly over my anxiety. I need this to happen more than my fear needs to control me. So even if it makes me cringe slightly, I whisper, "The part where you told me not to cum until you had me in your hands."

Sal's fluffy hair brushes along the top of my shoulders as he leans closer-- close enough for the tip of his prosthetic nose to tap against the nose of my mask. I hold my breath, eyes wide when his hand moves from my butt to the small of my back, his arm wrapping around me. "That's definitely an important part," he rasps, "but not what I'm talking about."

My heart skips a beat as a rush of air passes through my lips. I'm not sure if it's because I'm relieved or disappointed, but if he doesn't want to make me cum, then what the hell is he here for?

"I--" Damn me and my faltering brain. Why can't I just fucking speak? "I don't know what you're talking about." There we go. Even as I finally speak the words, I feel my heartbeat thrumming throughout my entire body, just under my skin. It's so evident that I'm afraid Sal's going to feel it, but that's impossible, I'm just letting fear get to me again.

His fingers press into the side of my neck a bit harder and he hums, the sound one of satisfaction and a lot of pride. I swallow again, blinking into the darkness.

"Your pulse is impressive," he whispers. "Makes me pretty pissed about taking so long to approach you when you're so open to me already."

Fuck, maybe it wasn't just fear. I failed to realize that his fingers were perfectly placed over my pulse. I tried to warn myself and I just didn't even listen. Welcome to a day in my life.

"Fuck off," I bite out shakily, cursing quietly upon realizing I still have no control over my trembling voice. "Just tell me what you're getting at," I say quietly, the words barely registering in the darkness around us.

Sal breathes deeply, almost like an obnoxious sigh while his fingers play with the edge of my shirt at my back. "Careful with what you say. I want you to speak, but not like that," he grunts, forehead pressing into mine.

I take a deep breath of my own, almost choking on the sudden influx of fresh air into my body after I'd hardly been getting any for a good couple minutes. "Then say it," I hiss. "You're so worried about me using my words, why don't you use yours too?"

"Because I'm in charge," his rough voice holds so much edge, so little patience, and never-ending anticipation as his hand that barely brushes along my neck moves quickly until his fingers are gripping my jaw, forcing my face closer to his.

Sals fingers dig into my cheeks as my lips skim along his prosthetic. We're so close now, and all the breath I'd just taken in is lost on me again. "Maybe I don't want to tell you," he rasps out, fingers squeezing a little tighter.

A shaky breath falls from my lips and suddenly I can't look anywhere near him s as my palms grow clammy and my knees begin to tremble. I'm so close to... I don't know what I'm close to doing, but I really want to do something. It's killing me to sit here with his hands on me this way and play the submissive bit.

"You were the one who told me to speak more," I whisper, glancing from where I think his eyes are to the rest of his prosthetic-- all of which are, unfortunately, invisible to me in the darkness. "The same should go for you."

He's quiet, fingers still gripping at my side and my jaw. But after a moment, his hold loosens and then he's trailing his fingertips across my chin. His touch is featherlight, tickling every inch of skin that he touches until he stops at the middle of my neck. And he pauses for a moment, makes me wait with bated breath and a pounding heart.

Then, the breath gets knocked out of me when he quickly and aggressively wraps his hand around my throat. Sal squeezes, causing a rush of air to push past my lips-- a last bit I didn't know I had. "This seem familiar?" he rasps.

I blink through the shock, listening as Sal grunts quietly, waiting for me to do or say something. I gulp as best as I can with his restricting hand on my neck.

His fingers flex around my skin and he takes a step closer, causing butterflies to form in my stomach. They invade my mind, clouding all rational sense that I once thought I had. The butterflies are dark and carry around all the sinful feelings I've tried so hard to ignore, to push aside.

But the truth is that no matter how hard I try to hide it, I'm attracted to Sally Face and it's probably time I do something about it. It's time to get him out of my system. Once will do.

With a raspy breath, I drag my hand farther up his bare chest and all the way to his shoulder to wrap it around the back of his neck.

My heart pounds relentlessly against my ribcage, fighting to try and tell Sal to have his way with me itself. It's sickening, really, how far I've fallen into the depths of this ridiculous attraction toward him. And now I'm trying not to wrap myself around him. Trying to calm my racing heart. Trying to stop my quaking hands. Trying to prevent my legs from giving out.

With the last bit of confidence I have at the moment, I use my hand to bring Sal's face to mine. His prosthetic forehead meets my mask with a little clack that echoes around the small bathroom. He huffs out a laugh in response and it takes everything in me not to slap him fucking silly. "Yes," I try to say against his tight grip.

It's one word. One syllable. But it's all it takes. All it takes for just one of us to snap. And the snap is beautiful.

Sal takes a deep breath, like he's either preparing himself or trying to calm down. Either way, something in him loses whatever fight he was in the middle of. He wraps one arm around my back, tightens his hold on my neck, and walks me backward until I'm roughly smashed against the wall.

He loosens his grip just a bit so I can catch the breath that fell from me upon hitting the wall, but then he's using the hand he had around my back to trail it down the outside of my thigh. His fingers are cool against my sensitive skin as he grabs onto my knee and lifts it, wrapping my leg around his hips.

Neither of us make a sound. My heart continues to yell for Sal to do more. I'm starting to think he may hear my internal pleas because he answers them each and every time.

With my leg securely placed around him, he wraps his arm around my waist again. Then, he slides his hand past the waistband of my short and into my underwear until he's gripping onto my bare ass.

My mouth drops open and I shut my eyes. No words pass between us for a minute as he massages my butt, getting a good grip on it to yank me closer to him.

And then our hips meet. His sweatpants do absolutely nothing to hide his hard cock as it slams against my clothed pussy, creating such delicious friction that I nearly cry out at the feeling. And he knows.

His hand falls from my throat and is soon replaced by his prosthetic face, his nose running along the length of my neck. Just knowing he's so close, alongside the rough surface of his prosthetic leaving a trail of goosebumps on each inch of skin he touches, makes me push myself closer to him.

He hums, satisfied when I bring my other hand to the side of his throat. I can't see his tattoo, but I can imagine it there. Covering the warm side of his neck, just below my fingertips.

"Listen to me," he says against my neck, bringing his face up so that his nose is brushing mine again. His voice is shaky, deep, raspy. Dangerous. "I'm going to show you how to use your words. Okay?"

I nod softly against him, breathing deeply. "Okay," I whisper back, my voice betraying whatever front I was hoping to keep up. It almost sounds like a whine.

He nods back, running a veiny hand through my hair. He starts at my forehead, dragging his fingers through the tendrils until he hits the base of my neck, cupping it and tilting my head up a bit more. "Good."

"Here's what I'm going to do to you," he starts off, breathing deeply. He tilts his head and the only reason I can tell is because his nose is at an angle now, still brushing mine. And then his prosthetic lips gently touch mine again. "I'm going to slide my hand into the front of your shorts, under your panties, and I'm going to fuck you with my fingers." His voice is ragged and his hand squeezes my ass tighter. Meanwhile, my own breath catches in my throat and the panties he was just talking about grow wet. No way is he able to say shit like that and not feel nervous about it... but at the same time, his words definitively broke the last bit of that awkward barrier between us.

"And all you have to do," he continues, pulling his hand away from my butt and out of my shorts, bringing it up and between us. His tone is casual and a bit sprightly-- desire swirling around underneath, hardly hidden at all. "is take it like a good girl. That sound good?" Then his index finger boops the tip of my nose.

I'm so sure my stomach has dropped out of my ass and I'm thrust onto the cusp of cumming just because of his dirty words. It happens so quickly that I'm holding him tighter and mentally cursing myself when a low, quiet groan escapes my throat.

Sal chuckles in response. But it almost sounds like a childish, excited, dark little giggle. "Eager, are we?" he asks, using the same hand he booped my nose with to grab my chin, bringing me just a tad closer to him. "You need to tell me if that plan is okay. If you don't say anything, we'll sit here like this all night. Consent is key."

I couldn't speak right now even if I wanted to. There's no oxygen left in me. I lost it all when he told me this plan he formulated in the depths of his salacious mind. But I want him to implement that plan too. And it won't happen if I just continue to sit here, breathless with my leg around his hips and his hand buried in my hair.

"I can hold out, Vi," he decides to say, voice biting in a way that's meant to push me along. "But can you?"

No. I absolutely fucking can't. My pussy is aching and he hasn't even touched it yet. My underwear is uncomfortably wet and my legs are quaking like a leaf-- I'm sure he can feel it.

So I take a breath and prepare myself for the hell that is to come. "Sounds like a plan," I force out quietly, trying to keep the background mewl to minimum. I'm not a fucking cat and this guy isn't going to make me purr for him... though, he does have potential.

"It better," he replies to me, voice suddenly much deeper and dangerous compared to the last thing he said to me. The sound sends a jolt of electricity through my veins and suddenly, I think my expectations of this aren't set too high. If anything, my expectations aren't high enough. All this time, I assumed he'd never actually be able to do as well as I was hoping he would, but I'm starting to see that he may be better than I could ever comprehend.

Sal is desperate as he slides the hand on my chin down my body. Between my breasts, over my stomach, and all the way to the top of my shorts. He waits there, seeing what I'll do. But I'm breathless, shivering from his light touch and about to kick off my shorts myself because of how ridiculous soaked my underwear is.

A man can be good in bed, but a man who's good with words is ten times better. The two together? I didn't know it was possible. But I'm pretty sure this combination could cure the world of depression.

I hold my breath, pushing my hips a bit closer to him when he drags his fingertips along the waistband of my shorts. I can feel my heart pounding in every inch of my body and it's starting to make me feel insane. All I can hear is my rapid, pitiful heart waiting for something that... honestly, something that he's probably teasing me about. I doubt he'll actually do anything. He probably just wants to humiliate me, use this as leverage. Tell everyone that I tried to fuck him and he had to reject me.

This fear works through me quickly-- so quickly that the lust I was just feeling freezes and gets replaced with embarrassment. I'm about to pull my leg away from him and push him back, get him away from me. But he must sense something because he finally pushes his cold hand into my shorts and immediately under my panties, slowly inching closer to my swollen, aching clit that's skipped the anxiety and gone straight to wanting.

Where I was just about to get him away from me, I arch my back off the wall instead, hoping and wishing his hand would travel faster and relieve me of the ache slowly building in my abdomen. He's the only one who can do it now-- I wouldn't be able to finish myself off after this scene.

And as always, regarding tonight at least, he listens in on my thoughts. His cold fingers gently brush over my needy clit. It's a light touch full of meaning and unspoken promises. That alone has me tipping over the edge that I had to ignore the past few nights after Sal told me to wait for him over our phone call.

I swallow down a moan that so desperately wants to escape and hold onto him a little tighter, using my free hand to reach over his shoulder and grab onto his back.

He hums lustfully, rubbing his nose against the cheek of my mask. He's so close. I can smell the musky scent of his cologne and shampoo, the fresh rain-like scent of his body wash. I can feel his hair tickling my neck and shoulders. I can feel his heart slam against his chest-- and that's when I realize that maybe the quick pace of my heart isn't the only heartbeat I've been feeling this entire time. His embrace is all-consuming; makes my head spin.

"You're being so good and quiet," he whispers to me. "Keep doing that." He applies more pressure to my clit with his index and middle finger, moving them in a slow circular motion that drives me up the damn wall. "Such an obedient slut."

I'm about to pass out.

It turns out he's smart. Before he puts anymore focus on my clit, he moves his hand down and slides his fingers against my wet folds, breathing deeply upon feeling me. "Fuck, you're soaked," he acknowledges, voice shaking with what I would assume is barely held back consideration for what I want. But I really don't care-- I'll take whatever he'll give me. And right now, I'm desperate to feel his fingers sink inside me. And for some ridiculous reason he doesn't do it, just teases my folds and soaks up whatever little bit of my juices that he can.

He presses me farther into the wall, a groan following his movements. I think he's as desperate as I am now.

He finally does something more with his hand again, bringing it back up. Just as his now wet fingers touch my clit, a startlingly loud knock sounds on the door.

The spell that had captured us ruptures as Sal practically jumps out of his skin, fingers digging into the base of my neck as his other hand disappears from my shorts.

I swear my heart stops for a moment upon hearing who knocked on the door.

"Sally, is that you, man?" Larry's sleepy but frantic voice says from the other side of the door. I hold my breath, and Sal holds me. "I need to piss so bad that I swear my uterus is about to burst."

I can hear Sal audibly gulp and that's how I know that the situation is bad.

At any other time, I'd be cackling over Larry's claim. But right now, I'm horrified because Sal and I are about to get caught in the bathroom together.

Suddenly, I'm yanked away from the wall and pulled in another direction. I almost stumble over Sal's quick pace, but follow him anyway. But when my calves hit the edge of the bathtub and a gentle shove on my shoulder makes me lean back, I grab onto his wrist because no. Fucking. Way.

"Sal," I hiss quietly. "Are you insane? I'm not hiding in the fucking bathtub!"

"Just shut up, it's only for maybe three minutes, okay?" he whispers back, agitation tinging his voice-- as per usual.

"No! This is even more incriminating than you and I doing the walk of shame out of this damn bathroom together," I reply to him, squeezing his wrist tighter.

Sal makes an aggravated sound then grabs onto the back of my knees. He forces them to bend, holding me up with his weight as I fall back toward the bathtub. I want to scream. No way is this about to happen-- no way did he literally just force me into this tub.

My ass hits the bottom of the tub with a little thump that automatically makes Larry start banging on the door.

I look up to where I imagine Sal is, leaning over me as I curl up onto the ceramic floor. "Wait," he says. "Don't say a word. All you have to do is exactly what I told you, 'kay? Take it like a good girl. Sit there and be quiet. Don't even breathe if you think it'll be too loud."

He pulls his arms away from me and I feel like I'm going to vomit. "I'll reward you for this." I don't want a damn reward. I want to disappear. But before I can object, his fingers gently grip onto my chin. I'm shocked by the his soft touch, especially by his next quiet words that send a wave of heat through my body. "Don't worry, little lamb. I won't lead you to the slaughter," he adds that sweet promise of guiding me correctly, but I've never trusted him before. Why should I put my faith in him now just because he used that oddly adorable pet name?

But the curtain is slowly being closed and I find myself doing as he said-- curling up on my side and holding my stupid fucking breath. It's the only option I have left. Fuck, this is humiliating.

I hear his soft footsteps grow quiet, and then the door opens. My heart races and my entire body tenses up.

"Lar," Sal's raspy voice starts, tinged with equal amounts of amusement and frustration. "You'd be shitting out babies left and right if you had a uterus."

The light flicks on and my eyes widen. Oh, fuck.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Larry retorts, not even bothering to close the door as he moves closer to the toilet and, consequently, closer to me. My eyes are about to pop out of my damn head. "You don't know that."

"Actually, I do. You fuck so often that you'd have to have been pregnant a couple times by now," Sal immediately responds. I can just imagine him leaning against the bathroom door with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Larry.

And the Larry in question has pulled his dick out at this point because I'm suddenly able to hear a relieved groan. And then he's pissing. Larry fucking Johnson is peeing right next to me and his best friend was just about to finger fuck me. What the hell kind of situation is this?

"Yea well, maybe I'm immune to children then. I don't know," Larry mumbles. I'm trying so hard to keep it together right now. I don't know if I want to cry or laugh, but neither of them are a good idea.

"You better hope you are," Sal says in response. "I don't need more of you running around here. Not to mention, those children would have to be pushed out of your dick so... not sure you'd want that." His tone screams disgust and pain and just thinking about it makes me shiver a bit too. Sounds painful. But other people go through childbirth all the damn time too. It's a painful thing all around, I'd bet.

I hear Larry hiss as he flushes the toilet then turns on the water in the faucet, washing his hands. "Yea, I think you're right then," he says, pretending to gag over the thought. "I definitely don't have a uterus. I can't imagine birthing a kid from my dick."

"Other people do it all the time. Respect the birth," Sal says nonchalantly. "Now get out. I need to take a shower."

"What?" Larry asks, clearly confused. "You took a shower earlier. Oh-- wait," his tone changes into something more playful, knowing. And then, his voice goes quieter "Did you have another wet dream about Vi?"

I bite down onto my bottom lip to contain my betraying throat that suddenly wants to choke on that little bit of information.

Nah, no way. Larry's just fucking with him.

I hear a smack and then a giggle and "Ouch!" that sounds a lot like Larry. And then Sal grinds out, "Shut the fuck up. I've never had a wet dream before in my life, especially not about Vi."

"Ah, you're so in denial!" Larry laughs viciously. "You can't hide it now. You literally begrudgingly admitted it to me two days ago. You dreamt that you and Vi fucked. I'd call that a wet dream, man."

"You're fucking delusional, Larry," Sal grunts out ferociously. Oh, he's so pissed. And I'm about to piss myself in this tub. I'm so going to give him shit for this later.

"Um, I'm not delulu, dude," Larry says matter-of-factly. "That term is reserved for you. So, come on. Admit it."

"I'm going to punch you, dude," Sal says, and he's concerningly calm. Which, if anything, should be a warning sign for Larry.

But Larry doesn't heed that warning. He only continues. "Admit it or I won't leave," he says, giggling all the while.

I flinch upon hearing a loud thud followed by the bathroom door slamming against the wall. Larry starts throwing out whispered profanities. "Fuck, sorry!" he says, still managing to laugh. Did Sal actually punch him?

"I told you I'd do it," Sal says nonchalantly.

These two are going to be the reason I get caught. They need to end this shit before I actually start laughing.

"I'm not even worried about the punch. You've got a mean ass right hook. I bet you fuck bitches good with that hand," Larry says suggestively.

Sal scoffs, likely in disgust at Larry's words-- but I'm tuning in because hopefully he does fuck bitches good with that hand, especially since I'm currently considered one of the bitches in question.

"So I've been told," Sal says snarkily. "Now get out. Please."

Larry barks out a laugh that could very possibly wake everyone up. "Test that theory out on Vi."

"Okay, Larry. Seriously, fuck off." Sal's growing agitated again and he throws every bit of it into his voice.

"Fine, man. Fine," Larry says cooly, his voice moving farther away from me. "Respect the birth." Another cackle, and then the door slowly shuts.

I wait silently, too afraid to move. One sound might send Larry right back over here.

But Sal moves, and this time the light stays on.

He throws the shower curtain open and looks down at me with his stupidly pretty blue eyes. Right now, they hold a ton of agitation, but some very surface-level lust, too. I can see it so well.

He watches me as I move into a sitting position, both of us just staring at each other. I don't want this to be awkward. He's literally already had his hand on my pussy-- that's more than enough. I'm perfectly fine with calling it a night and heading back to bed.

Sal, on the other hand, has other ideas. He looks over at the shower curtain, grabs it, then hops into the bathtub with me, crouching down in front of me. He closes the curtain again, then looks to me.

It's so frustratingly nice to see him with the lights on now. Even though it's cramped with both of us in the tub together, he looks so pretty. Messy cerulean hair brushing his shoulders, azure eyes alight with curiosity and barely veiled desire. Pale, toned tummy on full display for me. His tattoos darkened by the obscurity of the curtain. While his dagger tattoo is hidden, I can see the other beautiful tattoos on both his arms.

My breath catches in my throat. Sal is nowhere near Larry's level, but he has some muscle on him. I've always assumed that his biceps came from playing guitar so much, but abs are a different story. And he definitely has those.

And that shirtless photo of him that Larry sent me a while back? The one where I could see part of a tattoo peeking out from the top of his pants? Oh yea, I can see it again and I'm about to start foaming at the mouth. Somehow, I knew deep in my soul that getting to see him during this entire ordeal we've created would make everything feel so much better.

And my claim still stands as Sal bends his head forward a bit, making a shadow cross his face. It darkens his pretty blue eyes and fills me with exhilaration.

"I'm not done with you," he says darkly, eyes raking over me. He leaves a trail of heat on every inch of skin that his eyes observe and I find my self scooting backward toward the other end of the bathtub. But, I still nod my head at him, watching his eyes narrow upon noticing my nonverbal response.

My brain is on overdrive as Sal follows me, crawling my way until he's hovering over me. Both of his hands are resting on the floor beside my bare thighs. He keeps his gaze on mine, watching me like a hawk. I feel like I can't breathe. Everything is so tense but... I like it.

"You don't have to speak," he says, tilting his head to the side. "I'll let it go for now. That's your reward."

That makes me furrow my brows even if he can't see it. "That's the reward?" I ask softly, still more than nervous with him leaning over me like this, knowing he had his hand in my shorts just a minute or two ago. "I expected something better," I add, sucking in a quick breath.

His eyes slowly squint, like he's smiling beneath that prosthetic. "Yea?" he says seductively, trailing his eyes over me yet again. "I don't think I need to say this, but you shouldn't expect shit from me. Ever." His eyes meet mine again and my heart stutters over the heat in his gaze. "But I'll humor you for once. Only once," he warns. "So, let's see if I can do better that."

He leans back a bit to distribute his weight, pulls my knees apart, then grabs onto my hips, yanking me toward him suddenly. I gasp quietly when my hips collide with his, creating that same friction between my pussy and his hardened cock just like earlier.

A little mewl echoes off the ceramic around us and Sal closes his eyes, tilts his head back, and seems to relish in the sound. He groans then looks down at me again, devilish intentions swimming around in his sapphire eyes.

My underwear never dried in the first place, but that sudden heat is back. I don't want to run away like I previously did. I'd much rather sit here and see what he has to offer.

I shimmy my hips a bit, rubbing over the bulge in his sweats. Sal groans again, gripping my hips tighter.

"Enough of that," he rasps huskily. "I'm not fucking you in this small ass tub."

I roll my eyes as if to say whatever, but he doesn't comment on it. Only narrows his eyes before letting go of my sides to lean over me again.

He puts one hand down beside my hips then uses the other to tap on my waist. "Take them off," he says quietly.

I gulp down my nerves. I don't have to be nervous. He probably won't even look down to see what he's doing, and even if he does, he'll literally be touching me so it doesn't matter.

With a quick breath, I lean down a bit and grab onto my shorts. I push them down as far as I can, then kick them off the rest of the way.

Sal nods once I'm finished and then that free hand of his brushes over my stomach, pushing my shirt up. His fingertips drag over my bare skin, and then he travels lower to meet the top of my underwear. My breath catches in my throat again, and even more so when he pauses. He gives me a sideways look that makes me cock an eyebrow in response.

"I meant these too," he says, hooking a finger into my really pretty and really expensive black lace underwear. And to my utter horror, he twirls his finger into the fabric, bunches it up in his hand, and then with a little grunt of effort, effectively rips it apart.

I'm gaping now. Lace isn't hard to tear, but I didn't fucking want him to rip my underwear off of me.

But the little smile in his eyes says that he wants to make me mad, and somehow, he just knew that my lace panties were the perfect way to get the reaction he wanted.

He pulls the broken fabric out from under me and I can't help but brood a bit as he does so.

It all falls away as he cups my pussy in his now warm hand though. It was cold earlier, but after fighting with my underwear, it's warmed up a bit and the feeling makes heat rush through my body in response.

I squeeze my eyes shut, whimpering pathetically beneath him. Sal breathes deeply, a satisfied little hum leaving him just like it did earlier.

He moves his hand, dragging two digits between my folds to wet his fingertips, and then he's rubbing slow circles on my clit.

Every circle he draws against my bundle of nerves is thought-out, methodical, and borderline painful. It's just the same movement over and over again, but it feels amazing. I can't help but wonder how much he's practiced to be able to get me with the simplest form of pleasure, but I don't care. He's touching me and it feels better than I ever could have imagined. That's what matters.

I let out a shaky breath, finally opening my eyes to see him nearly glaring at me. It's not something out of anger, more so intense focus. And he's watching me so closely, mapping out the way my lips part. Glancing to my chest as I take a deep, shaky breath.

"That feels good?" he says softly but darkly, blinking up at me.

I nod, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. He applies more pressure to my clit, nodding back at me as his slow circles pick up speed.

I shiver beneath him, gulping down sounds that so desperately want to be out in the open air.

"Do what you want," Sal says, seeing my obvious struggle. "As long as you're quiet, I don't care. Whore out all you want, I certainly won't stop you."

I keep my eyes on him, contemplating his words. I'm not sure that's a great idea. Larry could still be up. Ash could wake up. Todd could come out to look for food. It's too dangerous.

But Sal doesn't seem to like my reluctance. He uses his knees to spread my thighs, giving him more space to move his fingers quicker and to keep me pinned beneath him.

I sigh, leaning my head back against the back of the tub. Pleasure is rolling through me in waves. All the frustrating, desirous pain I felt earlier is slowly building up into what I'm sure is going to be an amazing orgasm.

I buck my hips up to force his hand to put more pressure on my sensitive pussy. Sal answers by leaning back a bit and using his free hand to push my hips back down to the floor. I open my eyes again, my breathing growing quicker the longer he teases my clit.

A lustful moan finally breaches the seal of my lips and that seems to sate Sal quite a bit. He finally answers my unspoken request, pressing into my clit harder and rubbing faster. I can't help but arch my back, nearly writhing beneath him.

Despite the initial fear I felt about being bare beneath him, I glance down at the space between us, noting the way his fingers work me so prettily-- chipped black nail polish, bracelets, and all. But, no rings.

I note that little observation in my head, my panting breaths catching in my throat when I realize he has all the opportunity in the world to make me cum like he originally promised.

The sight and the new knowledge makes me gulp and I look up again, trailing my eyes over his torso, over his tattooed arms, up his neck, and back to his prosthetic face. He watches me ogle him, taking me in as well.

But just this focus on one part of me isn't enough anymore. I'm in the clear for more and I know that now. So without breaking eye contact, I murmur, "More."

Sal breathes deeply, using his free hand to gently brush over my boobs. It's a gentle touch, but without a bra on, I feel so much especially when his fingers rub over my hardened nipple.

And then, I'm mewling like the kitten I swore I wasn't earlier. I can't help it and he knows that well enough.

Sal holds me still as I twitch and shake beneath him, calming me with a soothing, "Shh. You're okay. Stay still for me."

I try to follow his command, attempting to stop the way my thighs instinctively clamp around his legs. He doesn't seem to mind that bit all that much. But he keeps that free hand on the inside of my thigh, pressing it down and leaving me shaking.

Finally, his fingers move from my clit back down to my folds. But instead of sinking into my pussy, he teases me yet again, simply rubbing his soaked fingers up and down while watching my facial reactions.

"Do you want my fingers?" he asks, voice raspy and serious. So different compared to the usual icy tone he uses with me.

"I want your dick," I answer breathlessly, moaning out softly when his fingers dip just a bit into my dripping cunt. "But yes. Your fingers will suffice."

Sal laughs, finally obliging me by plunging two fingers into my sopping pussy. I cry out, wincing at the sound just as he slaps a hand over my mouth.

"Be good," he says gruffly, breath heavy as he glares into my eyes. He pulls his fingers out then shoves them back in, making my eyes squeeze shut. "And yea, they'll suffice," he continues, carefully pulling his hand away from my mouth as he curls his two fingers within me. A whimper fights past my lips at the sweet, carnal feeling he gives me. And then he whispers, "For now."

My eyes fly open and I stare at him in shock. For now? So, this isn't the end?

He seems to see the words dancing in my head, so Sal squints his eyes at me and starts relentlessly pounding his fingers into my pussy to shut me up. My head flies back, nearly slamming into the back of the tub. My lips part and the sound I'm about to make is going to be awfully loud, but Sal probably predicts that too.

He shoves two fingers into my mouth, pushing them back as far as my throat allows.

I moan against his fingers, quaking as his brutal pace never lets up. He continuously thrusts his digits into me quickly, pausing only to curl his fingers. Which only elicits more muffled and unintelligible pleas from me.

I don't even know what I'm begging for anymore-- for him to finish me off or to make this last even longer.

He pushes his fingers deeper into me even though he's reached the top of his hand and can't possibly go any farther. Doesn't stop him from trying though. He grunts, slamming his fingers deeper and harder. Curling his digits, using his thumb to rub quick circles onto my clit. Doing all he can to push me over the edge.

I suck on the fingers he shoved into my mouth, grabbing onto his wrist to keep him there.

Sal's breath hitches in his throat and he seems to choke for a second, but then he gathers his wits and continues to fuck me good just like he promised. His fingers curl again, hitting a spot that I didn't know existed before. I cry out, squeezing his wrist in my hand and grabbing onto his shoulder with my other hand. Fuck, that felt good. I could cry.

Sal repositions his legs between mine, bending a bit lower as he slams his digits into me, hitting that beautifully delicious spot again. "There?" he rasps out breathlessly upon hearing my dirty groan. I nod my head vigorously, silently begging him to stay right where he is.

I watch him with tears in my eyes and note the second his eyes widen a bit, never-ending focus and dedication dancing in his cerulean gaze. "Got it," he says darkly, "Give me thirty seconds."

Just as quickly as he says this, Sal pulls his fingers out of my mouth and wraps them around my neck instead, squeezing tightly. My quiet mewl is broken up from the lack of air, but I don't fight him. I hold on tighter and let him do his work because he hasn't led me astray at all. I trust his thirty second claim.

Sal pulls his fingers nearly all the way out of my pussy and I open my eyes, groaning at the loss of his digits that filled me up. But then he's pushing three fingers into me. They squeeze against my restricting pussy, but he still manages to hit that same spot that made my vision blur after about two seconds.

My mouth falls open and my chest rises and falls quickly with my panting breaths. I close my eyes, tilt my head up to the ceiling, and let the shivers and quakes take over my body as Sal's fingers pound into my sopping cunt with no hesitance. His movements are so fast, so deep, so filling that it's just enough to push me over the edge within the allotted time that he promised.

My orgasm hits me like a brick wall, making the building ache fall away and leave only the most mouthwatering debauchery I've ever experienced in my life. My ears ring, I lose all feeling in my limbs, my vision blurs again, and so many unintelligible words tumble out of my mouth. Words that he nor I can hear or comprehend because of the hand restricting my airways.

I cum all over his fingers and he rides me through every second of it. He slows his pace and his hand loosens around my neck, letting me breathe a bit easier.

I huff over the pounding in my chest, letting my body go limp against the bathtub floor.

I breathe heavily, still panting like I just ran a marathon when Sal slowly pulls his hand out of my soaked, worn-out cunt. But he keeps his hand languidly wrapped around my throat, praising me with a light squeeze followed by a purred, "Good girl."

After a moment of catching my breath after that ridiculously mind-blowing orgasm, I open my eyes to see Sal hovering over me with a refreshed look in his eyes.

Neither of us say a word. And I'm more than satisfied. I got far more than I expected from him and that's both awesome and a problem. Because I definitely don't want this to be the last time we do this. It was too fucking good.

I take a breath, watching Sal fully sit up from the corner of my eyes. He wrings his hand, tilting his head as he look down at it. "I did a fucking number on you, didn't I?" he proudly states, blue eyes glancing up at me. "I never took you for a dirty whore. But you're a good one."

His words make my cheeks turn a dark shade of pink while my heart slams into my ribs. Anyone else would think he's insulted me, but I know he doesn't mean it that way. If anything, this is more praise. This is common knowledge to me after finding out that he has a degrading kink. Shit, I guess I have one too, then.

I decide to sit up, face-to-face with him. My mask's nose brushing against his prosthetic nose. And I look him dead in the eye, watching and waiting for his reaction as I trail a hand up his leg, over his thigh.

I hear his sharp intake of breath and he leans away from me, getting into a position similar to the one I was just in moments ago. So now I hover over him, meaningfully passing my hand over the impressive bulge in his sweats. That's a nice size.

His eyes flutter shut and a wave of heat hits me again. He's really going to let me do this and I'm all in for it.

I grab the waistband of his sweatpants and work them over his hips and down his thighs. He does much like I did earlier, kicks them off and on top of my shorts. Sal groans when there's less restriction against his hard cock, his sweatpants quickly replaced by my hand as I palm him through his boxers.

Sal hisses, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I should rip these off of you too," I say softly, sweetly. His eyes snap open again and he glares down at me, though that glare is clouded by the lust swimming around in those pretty eyes.

"Don't you fucking dare," he huskily replies, squirming a bit when I squeeze his dick.

"And why shouldn't I?" I ask him, tilting my head inquisitively. "Give me one good reason."

He grunts disapprovingly, glare turning into something more ferocious. "Do it and I won't let you touch me at all."

I shrug. "That's not too bad. After all, you honored your promise. As far as I'm concerned, I don't have to return the favor at all." I say this all while rubbing his dick, watching excitedly as he twitches with each stroke of my hand.

"So what, is this a pity job?" he says between breaths, gasping lightly.

"No," I answer him, squeezing his cock again. "This is me giving in."

His glare morphs, turning into a lustful gaze. He just stares at me, gulping. His hair falls behind him, giving me a perfect view of his dagger tattoo. I can't help but reach my free hand up to trace it, still keeping my hand over his dick that flexes here and there.

Suddenly, it's clear he's had enough of my teasing. He clamps both hands onto my hips, fingers still slick from my liquids. He growls out dangerously, "Come here." Then, he's yanking me toward him. I stumble over his spread legs and clamber on top of his cock-- and he stops me there. I'm tethered onto him, his biceps flexing as I try to move off of him, but he doesn't let me.

"Really?" I say shakily. "You can't let me have your dick? You said 'for now' earlier." I'm not sure where the words or the confidence is coming from, but it's here.

Sal scoffs, shuddering despite his conflicting emotions. "Who says you can't have it?" he grumbles. "Stop being a fucking brat."

"Don't tell me to stop the impossible," I tell him, placing a hand onto his chest to stabilize myself. Don't get this confused, I'm losing my shit on the inside. I didn't expect to be sitting on my arch nemesis's dick with just a thin piece of fabric between us tonight.

"You're gonna be like that? Really? You just came all over me. Be grateful and fucking behave for once," he says, gasping as I move my hips to try and get off of him again.

Our gazes connect when I realize what I've done. And that gives Sal the opportunity to do exactly what he had in mind when he pulled me on top of him.

He squeezes my sides and shimmies his body a little lower. Then, he uses his grip on me to grind my hips down on top of him.

It's a nice feeling, the friction against his swollen cock and my still needy clit. We both groan quietly, the combined sounds so dirty that they become pretty. And I guess that's the way all sexual things work.

I grab onto his shoulders and grind down onto his dick again, biting my bottom lip. Sal groans at the feeling, fingers digging into my hips. I don't mind this at all. In fact, I've decided that I won't be moving. But that doesn't mean I'm about to let go of what he just said.

"You're the one who should be grateful," I whimper, sucking in a breath through my teeth as I push myself onto him again. "I doubt you get cummed on every day, huh? I've behaved long enough tonight. That ship has sailed," I bite out, wrapping a strand of his hair around my index finger as I rut against him.

Sal guides my hips, pushing me to move faster against his throbbing cock. I mewl in response, digging my fingernails into his pale skin.

"That's not a good excuse," he says, his voice grated as he forces the words out through his undoubtedly clenched teeth. "You don't have to be a bitch all the fucking time. Give me a break."

"Never," I tell him immediately, grinding even faster against him as I feel myself working up to another orgasm. It's quick, seeing as I'm still sensitive from the orgasm I had just seconds.

A mind-boggling, erotic, and downright lewd moan leaves Sal's mouth when I thrust particularly hard against him. He sucks in a quick breath and throws his head back, staring up at the ceiling as ragged breaths make his body shake.

I repeat the motion, rubbing myself harshly against him just to hear him make that sound again. It was so unexpected but so welcomed. I felt it in my soul, felt it in my stomach. It was everywhere.

But when I do it a third time, Sal pauses our movements with a hand on my hips. "Vi, stop," he hisses. "We can't be loud. And if you keep doing that, that's what we're both going to be."

I look at him like he's stupid, though I'm reeling on the inside over his admittance of being pretty vocal. That'll be good info to utilize in the future. "How do you expect to cum if I can't make you feel good?" I ask him dumbly, shoving his hands off of me so I can grind my hips into his yet again.

He doesn't seem to like my blatant ignorance of what he just told me. He sits up, looking me dead in the eye with a nasty glare. I guess he expects himself to be intimidating enough to make me stop, but if that's the case, he's got another thing coming.

Even in this position, I slide a bit between his legs and rut myself against him again. Sal's glaring eyes quickly widen in surprise and he watches me for a moment, just lets me pleasure myself against him.

I guess he decides on the fuck-it option eventually because he soon joins me, meeting each little thrust I put out.

He groans out again, wrapping an arm around my waist and the other around my shoulders, holding me close against him. His head drops onto my shoulder as he pushes his hips up to meet mine, his cock brushing my clit so perfectly.

"So good," he whimpers breathlessly, holding me tight against him. I release a shaky sigh chewing on my bottom lip as I throw an arm around his neck, burying my hands in his soft azure hair. "Fucking slut."

My eyes squeeze shut and we're both feeling fucking amazing for the time being. He's decided to ignore me, which means I win, especially if that degrading pet name is anything to go by. And I'm going to cum for a second time. This is damn wonderful.

"I'm close," Sal warns, a whimper falling past his lips as he grips onto me tighter. Holy hell, it didn't take him too long. That's so flattering. "Say something," he breathes.

Say something? What does he want me to say? Does he want permission to cum or something? That's nothing like him. Doesn't feel right.

But then I think back to that phone call we had, when he told me to tell him how much I hated him.

I gulp, scratching a hand up his back. "You're such an asshole," I whine, burying my face into his hair. "You make me feel so dirty, disgusting. And what's even worse about it-- what's worse about you-- is that I fucking crave it."

He groans, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking my head back. I yelp quietly, opening my eyes as he takes control, thrusting his hips against me. The yelp quickly turns into a dirty moan that makes him grip me even tighter.

"Going to cum for me again?" he says between quick breaths and erotic grunts. "What a good bitch."

A shuddering breath falls from my lips as addictive pleasure works its way through me again. I want to tell him to shut up, but I really fucking enjoy when he says things like this. It's so damn nice, makes everything else we're both feeling ten times better.

"Please," I rasp out. "Faster."

Sal obliges, running his prosthetic nose down the length of my neck as we grind harder and faster against each other, the head of his cock rubbing my clit in all the right ways.

And suddenly, I'm thrown into my second orgasm of the night and fighting to stay sitting upright. What helps is Sal's strong grip around me. He lets out a primal grunt of his own before shuddering and moaning deeply, and the warmth that grows beneath me makes my own orgasm last even longer.

When it's all said and done, Sal and I are a mess of bodily fluids and heavy breathing, wrapped up in each other like it's natural.

But as we come down from our highs, the problem with this situation is that this isn't a natural thing for us. What's natural is anger, contempt, frustration. Hate.

So when I've finally caught my breath, I look into Sal's tired, glazed eyes. He looks back at me, no emotions visible as far as I can tell.

"I want a new pair of underwear," I whisper, watching and waiting for what happens next.

Sal takes a deep breath, eyes glancing over my face for a second before he lets the arm around my shoulders fall away. But his arm around my waist doesn't fall, only loosens. Then he shrugs. "Sucks to suck."

Well, it wasn't too hard to put us back right where we were all day. "Oh, you're such a dick," I huff out angrily.

"And you just rode mine," he says proudly, tapping his fingers against my side and tilting his head.

"Not by technicality," I inform him, rolling my eyes as I clamber off of him. I quickly turn around as I fetch my shorts off the tub floor behind me. I'd rather him see my ass over my still throbbing cunt. For fuck's sake. I can't believe I did this.

I step into my shorts and pull them up to my hips then grab the remnants of my lace panties and frown at them.

I turn back to Sal who's still sitting up, looking down at his boxers that are covered in his and my cum. "And what do you expect me to do about this?" He scoffs. "I'm a mess."

"Don't ask me," I tell him, opening the shower curtain and stepping onto the tiled bathroom floor. Sal looks up at me with glaring eyes. I smile slyly at him. "Sucks to suck."

He rolls his eyes and stands up, grimacing at the sheer amount of fluids on his underwear. I bet that's starting to get cold. "Don't be a bitch about it," Sal bites out.

I pinch my lips together and cross my arms over my chest. "I'm not being a bitch," I say. "I'm just... returning the favor."

Sal's head snaps up, that aggravation back in his eyes. That's what I'm used to.

"Get the fuck out," he says darkly. But this time, it's not in a sensual way. It's a warning.

So I turn my back to him and head toward the door, forcing my mind to go numb. This was our moment and that's it. It's smarter to keep this as a one time thing even if I'll still crave him for a while.

I twist the door numb. "Gladly."

_________

A/N::::: i did my best to edit in like the keep reading thing so i don't blind everyone with smut LMAO so we'll see if it works :3

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEHHEHEHEHEHEH

now i literally don't know where the story is going. this is a rollercoaster, you guys are just the unlucky bunch stuck on the ride with me.

i hope you all enjoyed :3 trust the process! all my love <333

[faunrasthewinterelf]

2024/07/23 - MAP VERSION 1.4!

fans of Jak and Daxter, I need help!

I have access to Inkarnate, and i keep seeing people attempt to cobble together the various maps from the games and try to make sense of it, so i figure I'd try out my version, and I'd LOVE some feedback!

PLACES

HAVEN CITY/SANDOVER

WASTELANDS/SPARGUS [Desert Island, apparently??]

KRAS CITY [never played Jak X, concept art has it as a Floating City on water, has to be far enough from a coast to be safe from metal heads, but close enough for Krew to operate in both Haven and Kras regularily?]

Icelands [again, in Jak X, only seen via race track? most people put it far north, but feasibly, it would also have to be close to Kras for the Grand Prix Race thingy. If my map building goes as it is, perhaps it is actually far South? Antartic vs Arctic? COULD also be West of the Precursor Legacy, via the snowy area off of the Lava Village place]

INITIAL THOUGHTS

KRAS CITY IS DIRECTLY EAST, OFF THE COAST OF WHAT USED TO BE ROCK VILLAGE. EARLY MATERIALS/STUDY OF THE FLOATING CITY CAME FROM THE FLOATING BIT OF THE LOST PRECURSOR CITY.

ICELANDS are a Maurader territory atop the same mountains that we originally see the Yeti Babak in from JaD:tPL. The Babak village up there is gone? trading with the Marauders? dont know yet. ICELANDS are up along the spine of that mountain area!

BABAK VILLAGE should probably be moved closer to Haven! where ever it ends up it should also determine where the Eco Mine will be! [also potentially close to the original Blue Eco Temple on the other side of Sandover? I know those are Eco Vents, but its still an area with an over flow of Eco? dunno, theres not much room there for more things XD

I put SPARGUS/WASTELANDS to the far west of both the ICELANDS Mountains and Haven for three reasons!

A La using Australia as a 'prison colony / exile' via the british, you wouldnt Exile people somewhere close by, even if it IS an island? (pls correct me if that's wrong btw) Spargus SHOULD be far from Haven, and it makes sense that you'd need an 'air train' or whatever they call it in the games, to get there, beyond it just being an Island

the ruins from the city that you run around anc corral Reapers in! I have it between the Marauder Colony/Strong hold and the general area where they came from to give reason to why it failed! I don't know the canon around that ruin, but i like the idea that it was a Spargan Colony that fell to Marauders a long time ago, BUT was avenged years later, and the Marauders were forced further into the desert, cut off from their home land after losing that area. It's particularily dangerous to travel, and also why not a lot of people travel past the center volcano, or to the temple in the South East of the Wastelands!

the Catacombs/Subrail thing! please correct me if im wrong! but you enter the Subrail from the Catacombs of said beforehand mentioned temple! and those catacombs/subrail connect to haven, going in a West to Eastern direction, under the mountains, in my little world now!

HAVEN IS HUGE - like, no matter how you put it, Haven is a MASSIVE area??? like, this is wild to me! it makes a little more sense if you consider it a massive area that was claimed by Mar and his Acolytes? (no idea if that's canon) and then the city was built within the walls.

There's potentially to much space between Haven and the Mountain range to its west, and Spargus. [It could all be Metal head infested jungle? But that's on the opposite side of where I head canon the Metal Head Nest to be. The Rift Gate is originally found in the Citadel, but is moved to Sandover for the start of Jak 2, however, this doesnt make sense during the game itself, so i believe that the Metal Head leader (Kor, probably) after emerging 300 years in the past through the gate and wreaking havoc, moved it to the new location that we find during Jak 2. I like to think that the Metal Head nest was moved *back to* Gol and Maia's Citadel [Dark Eco Silo nearby, YUM!], and Mar's Gun, built with the salvaged remains of the gun that helps you get to Klaww, is moved closer, but is unable to be moved. HOWEVER, that puts everyone WAY outside the Walls of Haven, So. I dont actually know at the moment! I'd LOVE feedback please and thank you! gimme ideas that I can use to modify and add to the map, throw headcanons at me, discuss where the Wastelands adn Kras should be, and what sizes they should be?

I love this game series and I wanted to be able to flesh out where exactly everything is in the world out of shear curiosity! [Yes, the clouds are a hint at the areas in the Game-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named, The concept of that area is *way* to cool to ignore it!]

[reaperfromtheabyss]

no real updates on my Black 2 water run rn. I explored as far as I could south and east of Undella town before heading north to lacunosa town. It turns out facing a bunch of water types is annoying when your whole team is water types! Not a lot of great move options for me to use, and a Jellicent is super common here so that shrinks the pool further!

I also encountered the scripted Cobalion right outside of Lacunosa town so I went ahead and caught it (what am I not going to catch a legendary????) and sent Cobalt to PC Purgatory to atone for its sin of not being water type <3<3<3. I also caught a couple more water types along these beach routes and I'm starting to re-examine my team against these new options.

Firstly, I'm really eyeing a Starmie as a potential replacement for Florentijn. Florentijn's fine, not underperforming per se, but I haven't really been happy with him. I think Starmie has better stats (or at least more focused compared to Golduck's blandly even spread) as a fast special attacker with decent defense. Plus Starmie is actually dual type, so psychic moves will also get a stab bonus! I'll lose cloud nine as an option against sand storm and hail, but that does open me up a little more for some rainstorm strats (Starmie can be taught thunder btw 👀)

I'm also considering a Wailord for the team. Huge hp to make up for low defensive stats, and decent offensive stats too. I'm not quite sure who I'd switch out for it though. Lutri is locked in both because he's my starter but also has great stats and powerful attacks. Cygnus and Jellicent are providing a tiny bit of type diversity that my team inherently lacks due to the challenge (plus Cygnus has that HM Fly utility). Florentijn would be the obvious choice but I'm almost certainly replacing him with a Starmie, which I would probably prefer over Wailord.

That leaves Marsh and Neogale. Neogale is a fast physical attacker, the opposite of what Wailord would be, actually has a type diversity in her attacks (especially dig, vital for against electric types). Marsh meanwhile is more similar to what Wailord would bring to the party, a slow bulky attacker. Wailord would have considerably more bulk from raw hp even if it has kinda pitiful defensive stats, which I could probably just focus HP evs instead of trying to split defensive ones to deal with that, and would have almost twice the special attack of an Azumarill. But Marsh's ability Huge Power complicates things as it functionally doubles his attack stat. He's got Superpower and a max power Return (which still might get replaced with Double-edge) for some hard hitting moves. Aqua Tail's also doing some nice work what with STAB and such. I'll need to chew on this one a bit longer. Also, I kinda feel obligated to carry transmasc Marsh through to the elite four.

I really wish I were playing this in April so it'd be considered "winter." then I could get a Spheal/Walrein onto the team! Now that would be a no brainer to include. I guess I could loiter around the approximately 6 squares of Seaside Cave I have access to rn until a Seel shows up. But Dewgong is a little too discount store Walrein rn and I don't think has nearly as compelling of a reason to be included on the team.

Maybe there's something good after Lacunosa town, but I think I've pretty much seen all the water pokemon diversity that is going to be available to me until after the elite four. The overland river routes seem to have pretty much the same two or three water lines available, and the ocean routes their own set that I've now pretty much seen all of. A decent chunk of water types are locked behind the fishing rod or probably some different ones available in the dive areas I've seen, but those aren't accessible until after the elite four either. Wasn't there a swampert knock-off introduced in this gen? why haven't I seen that yet? I could really use a ground type!

Anyway, we're rapidly approaching the point where I need to lock in my team for probably the rest of the run, or at least through the elite four. Depending on how fast certain shops in my Join Avenue grow, I'm debating trying to catch better nature versions of most of my pokemon and dialing in preferred EVs and such, but that really doesn't seem worth the effort right now.

[187days]

Day Sixty-Five

The Global Studies lesson I planned and the one I ended up teaching were very much not the same. I mean, the first part was the same; I went over the assignment students had done yesterday (identifying the Buddhist, Confucian, and/or Taoist influences on various customs ), then I showed the semi-sad but super-sweet Let's Eat. It's an animated short about a mother and daughter in a Chinese-American family, and students were able to identify the Buddhist, Confucian, and/or Taoist influences on that, too. Originally, they were going to do the same thing with an article about daily life in East Asian high schools, but South Korea went through six hours of martial law, so I seized the teachable moment instead.

I showed about ten minutes of BBC coverage because not all my students were aware of what had happened. I took questions, too, to make sure they understood it all. Then we discussed what the founders of those belief systems we've been studying- particularly Confucius- would have said about what had happened.

So look at me driving a point home with some real-world relevance!

I'm a wizard.

We also talked about South Korea in APGOV, and about the demonstrations in Georgia, too. Then I taught my regularly scheduled lesson: some MCQ practice on civil liberties and an intro to civil rights. I asked students to tell me what they already knew about the civil rights movement and was pleasantly surprised to find out they knew quite a bit more than students in previous years. Definitely need to give props to the American Studies teachers for that.

We got into a great- and sometimes wild- discussion about the eighteen states in which I'd lose my license for teaching about civil rights movement the way I'm going to teach. I told them we'd come back to this point at the end of the unit, and then they can decide if I've taught them anything that warrants that kind of response.

Some of the students who are on the indoor track team were still buzzing about that at practice, and it's such a win when students are talking about your class after your class is over, so I was happy to continue talking to them. It's good for recruiting potential students for next year, too! But, of course, we're not just there to chat. The Head Coach and I had them train hard today: a mile run for the distance runners, plyo drills for everyone else; an intense stair workout; flexibility drills; a cool down. They were good and tired by the end of it.

But if the snow comes tonight like it's forecasted to, maybe we'll all get to sleep in tomorrow!

[theadventurerslog]

Quest For Glory III: Wages of War | Part 2

The Adventurer's Log

More exploring of Tarna and shoppin'. Well, a bit of shopping anyway. I didn't have much time before the bazaar emptied out for the day. I also wanted to keep an eye out for the katta, Shallah, to deliver the note for Shema. I bought some honey and a bead before evening fell.

I stopped in on Kreesha and was able to chat with just her while Rakeesh was still stuck with, I mean, conversing with Rajah. I asked her again about magic and she offered to perform a ritual with me for a magic staff. It's an amplifier and a container of the user's spells. It's a thing of magic and doesn't really exist in the world so it needs to be summoned each time it's used. But I needed to find some magic wood.

In other news I learned Rakeesh was once the king of Tarna but gave up his rule to defeat the Demon Wizard.

But perhaps not permanently I guess.

Then I returned to the inn, which is pretty at night.

I also discovered each table can be examined for a different silly result.

Then it was bedtime.

My room has a storage chest so I don't have to carry everything with me but my weight was still fine so I continued to cling to all my things.

I ate my breakfast which was "very tasty, even if it was a bit strange." which they make a point of saying every time. Ohhh, that foreign weird food.

Day 2 and more shopping. I bought some fruit, a waterskin, and there were zebra skins for sale, but I didn't currently have a use for that, which didn't stop me from the beads, but they were cheaper. I wanted to make sure I got what I figured I'd need sooner first. Still trying to avoid the QFG 1 money woes...

I another section of the bazaar I found Shallah.

He was happy to hear about Shapeir which he misses though he seems happy here. And I delivered the letter from Shema who turned out to be his aunt. Points! I also bought a carving of a leopard.

The meat seller is a dog person and he was very...enthusiastic. Very chatty. Very.

I bought some meat! I made him very happy. He otherwise didn't have much to tell me, but not much in a lot of words. But he was very happy.

There was also an amulet salesman who seemed shady.

I didn't have the option to buy any amulets. Maybe just as well. Or maybe not. What if there are moose out in the savanna! Savanna moose! I could use a moose repelling amulet; we've had one in our yard before.

Anywaaay:

There was also a cloth salesperson selling cloth and robes. And a drummer drumming away.

After my shopping, I still had plenty of day left, so I nervously decided to poke out into the savanna. Maybe I could find some of what I needed before having to return in time for the coming peace council. I figured I could at least hopefully find the fruit of the venomous vine since I had some directions there (South east of Tarna).

And I very quickly ran into a big dinosaur thing.

That was a scary first thing to run into! But flame dart saved me as usual. I got a beast horn from it.

Then I ran into some kind of crocodile man critter...and died. And I forgot to save after that dino fight! Which means I lost the horn too whatever it might be for. Not off to a good start here.

At least I got a fun death message...

I fought another lizard guy on my reload and won at least... yay.

I found the venomous vines with the fruit I needed for the dispel potion.

And meerbats, how cute.

Good old fetch spell got me the fruit safely.

If you get too close to the vines they grab and poison you and you need to cut yourself loose causing them all to disappear. Not helpful if you still need the fruit. And I was hoping for a death, but I guess not.

I couldn't figure out if I could do anything with or for the meerbats, so I left.

I started to head back to Tarna, but then because the game told me I didn't want to be late for the morning's meeting and forced me back, automatically dumping me to bed at the inn. Can't complain this time! Saved me a trip back, though I may have wasted a healing pill, and my trip out was fruitful.

The next morning opened with the peace talk.

So, emissaries were sent to the Leopardmen to find out the problem. They got attacked by something unknown. There was one survivor, Khatib Mukar'ram and through his account and evidence, the attack looked to involve the Leopardmen. Reeshaka Dar Kreesha wasn't found and was presumed dead or captured by the Leopardmen.

Then there was arguing whether they should be taking revenge and whether they even be helping the Simbani people against the Leopardmen because ew, humans. Kreesha cut in to say that her magic indicates the involvement of Demonic activity. If they're involved they're the true enemy here.

Rakeesh swore on his honour to bring peace to Tarna. If he fails he'll be deemed honorless and be banished. And I'll be going along with him on my own honor I guess, even if I did give up being a Paladin.

Then we were sent to Rajah again.

More grumping and arguing and I was sent out to meet Rakeesh at the gates once they were done.

So then it was off to the Simbani village together while Rakeesh gave me more information.

Probable demon involvement. He also talked about the Simbani and that they have a great distrust and dislike of magic--so once again don't use magic there. Sigh. But he also suspected that's part of the root cause of the conflict with the Leopardmen who are magic-users. Being a magic-user myself he suggested I might be able to gain their trust and help to convince of the serious consequences of going to war.

We also made camp and he noted that if I haven't gotten one yet I should get a tinderbox when I return to Tarna. So, that's something I missed! I didn't see who sold them, but definitely something I'll look for when I get back, so I can camp out if need be.

Then we arrived.

We met up with Uhura and she brought us to see their leader, the Laibon.

The Laibon is also all rah rah war. If the Leopardman chief was brought to his knees before him then they could have peace. So, this was going swimmingly.

The Leopardmen have always been their enemy. They're sneaky and can't be trusted. Worst of all is they use magic. Cue me doing a little shuffle step over here.

Now they've stolen the Simbani's Spear of Death and for that they shall die. Then they'll longer be their enemy.

Rakeesh still tried, hoping for a way to resolve the conflict without waging war. He wanted the Laibon and the Leopardman Chief to speak their grievances before Hall of Judgement in Tarna in hopes of a peaceful resolution. The Laibon wasn't having it and we left.

We were moved to Uhura's hut to speak with her. Rakeesh commented on the Laibon being gracious to see us, but he got the feeling we weren't welcome. Uhura noted that while much honor was lost with the Spear of Death being stolen, the Laibon not listening wasn't right.

Laibon grumps aside, the Simbani still held a celebration for our arrival.

Then we went to the hut we'd be staying in. Rakeesh decided he'd head back to Tarna at first light. He didn't believe the Laibon had told us everything and wanted me to see if I could earn his trust and find out more. He also wanted me to search for the Spear of the Death as finding it could be used to convince the Laibon that war isn't necessary. And he further advised me to find magic wood for the Magic Staff from Kreesha. Not too many asks here, buddy.

He also provided some general directions. The jungle is to the east. The Leopardmen have a hidden village there protected by magic. There's also supposed to be a magical lake somewhere to the south as well.

I went to bed and sure enough, Rakeesh was gone the next morning.

Next time I'll explore the Simbani Village and whatever else I'll fall into. I need to get back to Tarna for a tinderbox too... I have no idea where to go for magic wood but finding that soon would be nice, so I can shop and deal with it in one return trip to Tarna. But exploration first!

[the-corvidae-know]

The man in the woods

The Stranger: Hey there newcomer, Come sit by the fire for a while. It's warm and bright. God knows what’s out in those woods tonight, eh? Please, sit, sit! There's plenty of room. My buddy Billy here won't bother ya'. He don't talk much, really. Hasn't for a while. I don't mind it though! I talk enough for the both of us, eh? How about we talk a little bit more. I ain't really feeling the old sandman comin' for me so why don't I tell ya' a story, to pass the time. Consider it an exchange for an actual conversation partner for once! Not to hate on you o'course, Billy my long time pal. But anyways, a story, right? Well… Here's something we done on the road here. We're from out west - round Wyoming. It's where my family's always lived but we started movin' east after our farm went south. South as in outa business because some folks didn't like our kinda business. Farms don't move on their own, yanno! Well, we was on the road for a few weeks - this was back when Billy was more talkative - and well - he dropped some book he was reading and it fell down into a ditch a ways away from our path. This was when we were still over in Wyoming. You ever been? Naw, I assume not. I'd know if someone like you was over in my part 'a Wyoming at least. Wonderful forests and we was right in the smack dab of it. So, I says he should go an' grab the book, seein' as it's his and he walks down real fast and I lose sight of him. I expect him to be quick but he don't come back. I call out for him. "Billy, Pal, where'd you go?", but he don't answer. I was getting a bit confused so I went down out in the ditch too. It was steeper than ida' originally guessed and I slipped and fell the rest of the way down. When I brushed off the dirt it was a hell of a lot darker than it had been up on the trail. I kept walking, calling for Billy all the time. Now I ain't one of those fools who gets scared by noises in the woods - I was just about raised in the woods yanno? So I keep walking and calling but I feel as if I'd been walking for hours before I give up and go silent. Instead of thumping and calling I slink in an outa' the trees. I know how to not make a sound movin' through the woods, specially when it's woods I know. I was thinkin' I oughtta think of it like I was hunting. I went hunting a lot back in the day. Me and my whole family would go out and come back with a great haul. But anyways, I'm looking for Billy and then I see a shakin' and a shudderin' in the trees a distance away. Then the sound of footsteps. Then the smell of a scared human. So, I start running towards him. Silent o' course - the first rule of hunting is to not startle your prey, yanno. So I approach the sounds, and praise the Lord, I find Billy there. Except Billy ain't doing too hot. He was laying on the ground, cowering and shaking. Yanno, the best thing to do when facing a wild animal is to play dead! But I guess Billy didn't know that because suddenly he starts screaming and crawling away from something out there. Of course I couldn't have that; who knows who'd hear him! So I grab him and teach him my best lesson on staying silent in the woods. Billy took to it real well. Spent the whole time back to the trail struggling with it but eventually I beat it into his thick head how it works, yanno. Well, we never did find that damn book, but after that Billy didn't feel much like reading or talkin' or doing just about anything anyway. So we've been keeping on moving. Yanno, you've been a good listener, I can feel the sun just about rising over in the east there. You do look awfully tired though. I can tell you're about to be dead on your feet! Feel free to take a rest around here if you want. No? You'll move on? All right pal. Well. Wishing you well. I think I'll go out and look for some breakfast. Maybe I'll see you around.

[theghostpinesmusic]

McKenzie River Trail (2/2)

I woke up on the second day of my hike down the MRT feeling a bit better about my prospects. The beautiful morning light filtering through the trees didn't hurt.

I'd planned to take on the trail over three days, mostly just because I wanted to spend a second night camping outside under the trees. But now that I'd covered twelve miles and found a place to sleep for the first night, I knew that if it was necessary I could knock out the remaining fourteen miles on the second day, get to the car, and take a long, night drive home instead of going through a second panicky search for a maybe-nonexistent campsite.

(As it turned out, I did find a place to camp for a second night and everything worked out just fine, but because my hike out on the third day was extremely short and uneventful, I'm combining days two and three into this one post because it feels silly to do otherwise.)

Apparently this newfound sense of comfort infiltrated my subconscious, because I slept through my alarm twice and somehow didn't manage to get on the trail on the second "morning" until 11:30.

I did get going eventually, though, and before long I passed Olallie Campground. During the previous day's search for a campsite, I'd had Olallie in my head as my last-ditch option: if I didn't find anything else first, it was thirteen miles down the trail and despite being a campground instead of a backcountry spot, it would have done in a pinch...or so I'd thought. Turns out that Olallie Campground is on the east side of the McKenzie River and the MRT, at this point, is on the west side. There is no way to actually get to the campground from the trail unless you want to hike multiple miles out of your way.

I was both embarrassed at myself for not noticing this on the map earlier, and happy that I'd found the site I'd found the previous night, because camping at Olallie would not have worked for me.

I waved to the car-campers as I walked by on the "wrong" side of the river.

I bit further south, I passed by Bigelow Hot Springs and an extremely fancy bridge spanning Deer Creek.

It was the first of a few cool bridges along the next section of the trail, though some were more bespoke than others.

At one point, the trail turned into a weird double-track, but only for a short stretch, and that short stretch also featured most of the few wildflowers I saw during the trip.

The next few miles of hiking were beautiful in their own way, but the second, southern half of the trail is definitely lacking big, "marquee" scenic spots like waterfalls or the Blue Pool. It's perfectly fine, but I can definitely understand why it's frequented more by bikers than backpackers.

A second, related problem started to make itself clear once I'd covered five or six miles from my first night's campsite: though there are actually many flat, established spots on the southern half of the trail, the MRT is so close to Highway 126 that, for the most part, you are constantly clearly hearing the roar and rattle of semi trucks hurtling down the road anywhere you stop. I'd certainly never expected the MRT to provide a pristine wilderness experience, and even if I originally had, my first day on the trail would have disavowed me of any such notion. But, I knew I'd also rather just finish out the trail on the second day and drive home than lay awake to noisy, clattering traffic all night long.

Complicating things a bit more was the fact that you aren't legally allowed to camp along the final four miles or so of the trail, which meant that I was going to have to either find a not-noisy spot before then, or give up and go home.

So, past the five-mile mark, my second day on the MRT was a...weird day. I spent a bunch of time walking slowly along and eyeing the GaiaGPS map on my phone, making sure I didn't hike too far south and west while keeping an eye open for camp spots. More than once, I found one that looked cozy, then spent ten or fifteen minutes sitting in it, trying to get a sense of whether or not the road noise overpowered the roar of the river in that one particular spot. In each case, the semis won out and I moved on.

Then, just about when I had given up and decided to hike out early and drive home, I came upon an amazing little spot just off the trail, situated on a little island above the river and screened from the main trail by just enough brush to make it feel private. I engaged in my neurotic surveillance ritual to judge the amount of road noise, and while I could occasionally hear some traffic in the distance over the rush of the river, I decided that it was quiet enough that it was worth putting up with to spend a second night on the McKenzie River.

At seven miles (give or take a mile or so), this was probably one of the shortest days I'd ever taken on a backpacking trip, so I had a lot of time to wash up in the river, wander up and down the trail a bit without my pack in search of Whatever, and read. And take a bunch of pictures of how cool my tent looked underneath the giant trees, of course.

I slept surprisingly well, considering my worries about road noise and all, and woke up early the next morning ready to finish out the last five or six miles of the MRT.

First, though, with better light to work with, I took more pictures of my tent.

I took a little bit longer eating breakfast than I usually would, knowing I had both a short hike and a short(ish) drive ahead of me and wanting to stretch out the experience a bit more now that I was nearing the end.

When I finally got on with things, the MRT almost immediately, disorientatingly, led me uphill and directly alongside the highway for a bit.

This certainly wasn't actually as weird as it felt, but it felt really weird.

Shortly after, I passed Belknap Springs and the Belknap Springs Resort. I think if I ever did this trail again, I'd probably stay at this Resort one of the two nights: it came highly recommended by a few dayhikers that I passed and if the southern part of the trail kind of lacks a real wilderness character, I might as well embrace it by staying at a fancy resort, right?

We'll see.

Shortly after the Resort, I crossed Lost Creek via another cool bridge.

The last four miles through the "no camping" zone were really straightforward and featured a bunch more of the silver-barked mallorn trees.

Once I passed through this area, though, I immediately understood why you can't camp there: it's right next to the highway, and there are tons of little side roads and trails intersecting the MRT here. The underbrush is a mess and dotted with human-built slash piles everywhere. None of that is a complaint, as lots of the forest throughout Oregon could be described this way, but you definitely wouldn't want to camp here, even if it was allowed.

The MRT did dip down next to the river a few more times, though, and the last time it did I took an unnecessary but welcome break to watch the water flow by for a few final minutes before heading back uphill to the lower trailhead.

After cleaning up briefly at the car, I drove to the Three-Legged Crane in Oakridge and ate there for the first time ever. I had a tempeh reuben which was ridiculous and I will definitely be stopping there again on my next drive through town.

Overall, I'm glad I hiked the MRT: it was the only thing that really fit into my schedule at that exact point in the summer and I had been ambivalent enough about it for the previous few years that that was just the push I needed to get me to check it out instead of waiting until later to hike something I was more excited about.

I'm damning with faint praise here a little bit: I think I've made clear throughout this report all the things that make the trail less than ideal for backpacking in particular. That said, the northern half of the trail in particular was incredibly beautiful in spots in the way that only the wet side of Central Oregon can be. I'm glad I did the whole thing once, because I'd always wanted to eventually. Finding camping spots was stressful, but the two I found and used were great, and I spent two relaxing nights under the huge trees listening to the roar of the McKenzie, and that's definitely worth something.

I might go back and try this hike again as a March-ish spring break hike some year, because, as I understand it, it's much less busy during that time of year and you can backcountry camp in many of the built-up campgrounds without paying a fee or dealing with cars and RVs.

Except Olallie Campground, unless you can swim like a motherfucker.

[ace-does-stuff]

Surge

Summary: Lare is dead, as expected she freaks out a bit- it's her first time! Who can blame her? She'd like to consider herself lucky that someone else is there, if that someone else was helpful.

Warnings: Implied character death, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: @bree-sae wrote a fic, and I went, 'crossover time' and proceeded to explode. @sobredunia it's a Kenikari fanwork, I am obligated to tag you in every single piece of Kenikari I write ever.

Why is it so bright? And warm? And never fucking ending, everywhere her eyes land all she can see is white.

Panic settles into her form and she's frozen where she stands, unable to move her legs. Wait, standing. She can, she can probably sit down if there's something that she's standing on. But she should be looking for an exit before anything else, try to scrape up some idea of how she got here.

So Lare walks. Presuming she's heading north instead of south. Or east instead of west. But she walks, she walks through the blank void laid out below and above and all around her.

She walks into someone and they both fall, she's quick to start apologizing. It's returned with a couple shockingly low it's fine's as she takes a moment to look at what she bumped into.

A humanoid, dirty blonde, orange outfit- snow gear in every essence of the word. He's got a knife stuck in the side of his throat but he doesn't seem to notice it. He blearily blinks himself back to awareness and he has indigo eyes.

"You're new here," Was what he said before anything else and that only left Lare with more questions than before.

"Where even is here?" Lare asked, trying her hardest to not ask a hundred other questions.

"This? This is death, you are dead, and so I am," He said and Lare could feel herself panicking, It must've shown because he was quick to try and rebuttal, "Don't worry! You aren't dead dead, you're just yet to return."

"You have a knife sticking out of your neck," Lare said, he feels around for it blindly. He gives a hum before tugging it out, there's almost no blood.

"Almost forgot about that, you get used to it after a while," He said as he drew his knees to his chest, "What's your name?"

"What's yours?" Lare spits back defensively.

"Kenny- Kenny McCormick, from South Park Colorado!" He wears a grin as he speaks despite the fact he's dead.

"I'm Lare," Lare said stiffly as she held out a hand to shake, Kenny gladly took in a shake.

"Look, I doubt you wanna talk about it but how did it happen?" Kenny asked.

Lare stiffens up, "Why would I tell you?"

"Helps the process go faster," Kenny answered with, "I mean, if you like purgatory I'm not judging."

"I'm pretty sure I froze to death," Was Lares response.

Kenny gives a hum, "Skill issue, anyways, my good friend stabbed me over something stupid- probably pissed I'd rather fuck Kyle than him, might've been monopoly."

Lare has so many questions at the statement.

"I don't know when you'll die next, but if your life is as cruel as mine I doubt we won't see each other again," Kenny said as he tightened his grip on Lare's hand, already fading.

She glanced down to her hand, "Oh fuck what's happening now?!"

"Relax man, you're just reincarnating," Kenny said calmly as Lare started to fade.

"What?!" She sounded distraught at the notions, Kenny placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You aren't gonna wake up a tadpole or some shit, you'll just end up back at home, or somewhere near your death- I don't know how your shtick works," Kenny said in an attempt to console her.

And then Lare passed out.

-/-/-/-

The time between her first death and the next death blur together in a horrible mix of everything and nothing at all. She can still hear him, that stupid voice singed into the back of her head and it's driving her mad. It was some dumb dream her brain produced while she was passed out in the cold room, nothing more.

Which leaves her with the question of how it felt so real.

The ice grasping at her skin. Chills seeping deeper into her lungs. Hands shaking her. Voices begging her to stay awake. It all felt so real, but when she asked questions, ever so subtle, worded carefully at that, they all looked at her like she was insane. Murasaki, Chuyo, Bee, even Mako and Detah- and maybe for a second she believed them that she was insane.

It had to be a dream, it could be nothing else. She pushed it all down and acted like it never happened because who would believe her if it had? No one, no one would believe her even if she wanted to act like they would.

She really hopes that releasing the cart when she trips is the right choice, that Bee and Mako make it out while she doesn't. She can feel the pain start at her feet and then crush the rest of her in an instant, she's sure she's been flattened into a paste rather than a pancake. She can hear Uzomi's scream of her name even after she's been thoroughly killed, the few seconds she gets before being thrust back into the void.

She finds that idiot in orange sipping on a juicebox with a slice down his throat that's still oozing. She walks over and takes a seat down beside him, he perks up a bit and has the audacity to smile.

"You're back!" Kenny sounds happy when he speaks, placing his juice box down beside his thigh as he speaks.

"I actually died," Lare got out quietly, disbelief heavy on her voice. She draws her knees to her chest, "And it's happened before."

"Yeah, the first couple times are always rough," Kenny said, voice softening a bit. He slings an arm around her shoulders, "I had an Italian who only communicates in wahoo! and yippee! with a heavy dose of body language for my first deaths."

"You had Jumpman Mario around when you died?" Lare asked, she sounded a bit hysterical.

"The one and only, he was hard to deal with, but I doubt he enjoyed consoling an idiot third grader who got turned to a platypus and mutilated," Kenny said as though it was common. Lare rested even more of her weight on him.

"Kenny when is it gonna stop?" She choked out quietly.

And Kenny didn't know how to tell her the truth.

"Well, I've been coming back here since the third grade and I'm what, fifteen? Yeah, about fifteen, so, a while," He got out sheepishly, "But hey! You aren't dying a lot which is nice, I used to die every single day."

"Really?" Lare asked, wrapping her arms around her legs as she spoke.

"Really, and then I got some weird ass disease that destroyed my muscle cells. I really thought that I was gonna stay dead when that happened, just me and Kyle, and then I was gone. I was here, but I wasn't there, and then I stayed here for weeks straight," Kenny said, he heaved a sigh, "But I'm back to my usual death schedule with slight alterations, so far you've only died twice which is rather impressive."

Lare was crying now.

"It'll be fine," Kenny said, "Promise," He rubbed Lares arm a bit.

Lare didn't answer.

"Ready to say how it happened?" Kenny asked.

"I was crushed to death by a rolling stone," Lare choked out on a strangled sob, "It was fast, but really shitty- children watched it happen Kenny! There were two kids who I hope lived even though I died."

"I'm sure that they did," Kenny said, he tightened his grip on her a bit, she wasn't fading yet.

"How about you? Who slit your throat over a game of monopoly?" Lare asked, almost jokingly. She had a gut feeling it would be much worse than that.

Kenny quirks a brow before realizing what she means, "Oh, that, that's nothing- most of the damage is internal. I don't know what they slid in through the hole," He brought his fingers to pull it open further and Lare gagged, "But it was something sharp and probably poison coated."

"Nasty," Lare said, sticking out her tongue a bit as she spoke.

"Super, but I've had worse deaths," Kenny said, he grinned a bit as he thought back on them, "Wanna hear?"

"Why not, pass the time or whatever," Lare said dismissively before her partner in death started to ramble.