#its: the phoenix and other early birds

[fiendishartist2]

guy who doesnt dance x guy who will drag you onto the dance floor

[ilovebabyonboard]

The Vitals Don't Lie

PAIRING: Bob Floyd X Nurse!Reader

CATEGORY: Fluff

SUMMARY: At the San Diego base infirmary, the nurse quietly observes the Top Gun recruits, especially Lieutenant Robert “Bob” Floyd, whose reserved nature and subtle glances don’t go unnoticed. When Bob is rushed in after a bird strike and emergency ejection, vulnerable and injured, the nurse’s concern deepens. Amidst medical checks and quiet moments, a fragile connection forms between them—an unspoken promise of something more once he recovers.

WORD COUNT: 2.7K

WARNINGS: Might be repetitive

The San Diego base infirmary woke slowly with the day, the pale light slipping in through the windows, catching on metal trays and the sheen of freshly mopped floors. It smelled like antiseptic and bitter coffee, a scent you’d grown accustomed to — strange, maybe, but comforting in its own way. It meant routine. Order. A kind of quiet before the flight-line chaos.

You sat behind the familiar white desk, clipboard balanced against your knee, absently spinning your pen between your fingers as the next round of Top Gun recruits shuffled in for their flight clearance checks. The room was filled with the usual blend of testosterone and early-morning haze: boots scuffed against linoleum, flight suits half-zipped, adrenaline simmering just beneath the surface.

You’d seen it all before. This job — this room — it was muscle memory by now. Wrap the cuff, listen for the heart beat, mark the chart. Most of the pilots were in and out before you could blink, barely sitting long enough for the vitals to stabilize, too preoccupied with thoughts of sky-high speeds and maneuver sequences to care much about blood pressure.

But then there was him.

Lt. Robert Floyd.

Bob.

Bob was never loud. Never jockeyed for attention like the others. He didn’t crack jokes or lean too far into the flirtation that usually buzzed around the exam table. Instead, he always waited patiently. Quietly. Shoulders squared, posture careful, hands folded in his lap like he was waiting for a final exam, eyes avoiding yours except in passing — but when they did meet yours, there was something there. Brief. Gentle. Intentional.

You, the only nurse stationed at this base, had come to recognize the patterns of the recruits.

Where Hangman flirted, Phoenix smirked, Rooster teased and Fanboy whistled low when you passed —

“Think she’d know if I fake a sprain?” "If I knew there was a hot nurse here, I would've come sooner." “Out of your league, bro. Like… multiple atmospheres out.”

Bob never said a word. Not once.

But he looked.

Not even when you took his blood pressure last month and he had to pretend it wasn't alarmingly high.

You’d seen him stumble a little over his words once, trying to thank you for handing him his completed chart. Another time, you watched his ears turn scarlet when your fingers brushed his while wrapping the pressure cuff. And last month, when you read off his blood pressure — unusually high — he’d just mumbled something about too much caffeine and looked anywhere but at you.

"Must've been the coffee."

You weren't stupid.

You knew it wasn't coffee

Today, the recruits filtered in one by one, lining up neatly by the wall as you moved down the row. Clipboard in hand, gloves snapped into place, you carried yourself with the same quiet confidence you always did. It was part of the job—being composed, a little distant. Untouchable.

Hangman was the first to pipe up, his voice coated in lazy amusement.

“Didn’t know Top Gun had perks like this,” he said, nodding toward you with a grin, his eyes sliding over to Bob. “No wonder Floyd’s always early.”

Bob didn’t look up. Just kept his hands folded neatly in his lap.

You didn’t look up either—but the twitch at the corner of your mouth betrayed you.

You moved through the line with practiced ease. Hangman rolled his eyes when you handed him a hydration pack.

“Try drinking something that isn’t jet fuel,” you said, scribbling on your clipboard.

“Only if you’re the one pouring it,” he shot back.

You gave him a pointed look and moved on.

Then it was Bob’s turn.

He didn’t move until you lifted your eyes to his. That’s always how it was—like he was waiting for permission.

“Your turn, Lieutenant,” you said gently.

He stood, slow and careful, posture straight but not stiff. His movements were always so measured, like he didn’t want to take up more space than he deserved. He lowered himself onto the stool, not letting his knees bump yours.

“Morning, Lieutenant,” you said softly, voice lighter than before.

“Morning,” he replied, just as soft. His eyes flicked up, then quickly down again.

You wrapped the pressure cuff around his arm, your fingers brushing against the skin of his forearm. He didn’t flinch — but he did hold his breath. Just for a second.

The room fell into a still kind of quiet, the kind that made you hyper-aware of every detail. His pulse thudded against your fingertips — steady, but fast. Too fast.

You didn’t look at him right away. You listened. You let the quiet stretch out, linger, become something intimate. Not awkward — just aware. There was always a hum around Bob. A tension made of things unsaid.

Finally, your voice broke the silence, low and teasing:

“You nervous, Lieutenant?”

He cleared his throat. “No. Just… long run this morning.”

You glanced at his chart. Tapped it lightly.

“No PT logged,” you said with a knowing smile.

Bob exhaled a short laugh — quiet, almost shy. “Guess I forgot.”

You looked up.

And this time, he didn’t look away.

The weight of it—the eye contact—felt heavier than it should’ve. Like he was trying to say something without saying it. There was something about Bob that always made you want to pause. He never took up space the way the others did. But he held it. Quietly. Unshakably.

“Heart rate’s a little elevated,” you note, jotting it down. Then, without thinking, you murmur under your breath:

“Easy, flyboy.”

Bob blinks. Caught. You see the faintest twitch of a smile tug at his mouth—like he’s not sure he imagined it.

Behind you, someone snickers. Probably Fanboy or Phoenix. You don’t turn to check.

Instead, you hand Bob his chart, letting your fingers brush his for just a second longer than necessary.

“All good,” you say. “But next time, don’t forget to log that mystery jog.”

He nods. Quiet. Composed.

But when he stands, you catch it—that half-second pause, like he wants to say something else.

Then: “Thank you, ma’am.”

Simple. Respectful. But it lingers in the way he says it. In the way he walks a little slower than usual on the way out.

He walked a little slower than the others on his way out, but you pretended not to watch.

When the last chart was filed and the tray was wiped down, you sat alone again behind the white desk, the coffee cooling beside you, the quiet returning.

And for the first time in a while, you hoped someone’s vitals were just a little too high again tomorrow.

The hum of the infirmary felt different this morning—restless, urgent. You were organizing supplies when a sharp knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts.

A flight medic hurried inside, eyes wide with concern. “We’ve got an emergency. Lieutenant Floyd was involved in a bird strike and emergency eject. They’re bringing him in now.”

Your heart stopped.

Bob.

The name echoed like a jolt through your mind. You barely registered the medic’s next words—something about a possible concussion and bruising—but your world narrowed to a pinpoint of worry.

“Where is he?” you asked, your voice tight.

“ER. Down the hall. You’d better get ready.”

Without hesitation, you grabbed your coat and rushed toward the emergency room, each step pounding with urgency. The corridor stretched endlessly, sterile walls blurring past as adrenaline flooded your veins.

You pushed through the double doors—and there he was. Bob, usually so composed and confident, now lying still beneath the harsh hospital lights. Monitors beeped steadily, but his face was pale, bruised, and vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before.

Your breath caught.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze as you stood there, overwhelmed by relief that he was alive—and fear for what the injuries might mean.

You moved closer, your presence calm but urgent.

“How are you, Lieutenant?” you asked, voice soft but edged with worry. You pulled the curtain aside and stepped closer, careful not to startle him.

Bob’s gaze lifted, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Morning, Nurse.”

The words were simple, but the warmth behind them caught you off guard. You quickly masked it behind a professional smile as you reached for the blood pressure cuff. “It’s the late afternoon, Bob,” you teased lightly.

“Oh.” Bob said sheepishly, his glasses slightly askew. He reached up slowly, fingers fumbling to adjust them, wincing when the movement tugged at a fresh bruise along his temple.

You caught the motion, your hand instinctively reaching out to steady his wrist—light, tentative. “Easy there,” you said softly.

He allowed you to hold his wrist a moment longer than necessary, eyes searching yours like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how.

You cleared your throat and slipped the cuff gently around his arm. The warmth of his skin under your fingers sent an unexpected flutter through your chest, but you kept your tone steady. “Let’s see how you’re doing.”

Bob’s usual calm was replaced by a quiet vulnerability you’d never seen before. His breath hitched slightly as the cuff tightened, and for a brief second, your eyes met, holding a fragile exchange neither of you spoke aloud.

The monitor beeped steadily as you jotted down his readings—heart rate elevated but stable, likely a mix of adrenaline, pain, and something unspoken between you.

You finished noting his vitals and set the cuff aside, your eyes softening with concern.

“Alright, Bob. I’m going to check you for a concussion now,” you said gently, pulling on your gloves. “I need to see how your reflexes are, check your pupil response, and ask you a few questions. Just follow my lead, okay?”

Bob nodded slowly, his usual composure giving way to something more fragile. His cheeks flushed a deep pink, a stark contrast against the bruises on his face. He blinked a bit more than usual, his gaze drifting, unfocused.

You started with the basic checks—light reflex with your penlight, following your finger with his eyes, simple coordination tests. His responses were delayed, and his hands trembled slightly when you asked him to touch his nose then your finger.

“Bob,” you said quietly, concern threading your voice. “How are you feeling? Any headaches or dizziness?”

He swallowed hard, his lips twitching into a sheepish smile. “Wait... I’m sorry,” he murmured, eyes flickering up to meet yours briefly before dropping away. “I can't focus- You're just... You're really pretty.”

Your breath caught at the unexpected confession, but you kept your expression neutral, professional, though your heart thudded faster than it should.

It’s okay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You were equally as flustered, but quickly reminded yourself he was clearly out of it—his brain scrambled from the injury and adrenaline.

Bob’s cheeks deepened to a richer shade of red, and he looked down at his hands, fidgeting awkwardly on the thin hospital sheet. He let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, wincing again as he shifted slightly. “I think I’m making a fool of myself.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering up shyly, searching yours like he wanted to say more but was tangled in his own nerves. His lips parted slightly, then closed again without words.

You found yourself leaning in just a fraction closer, the space between you shrinking, charged with something unspoken.

“You’re doing great,” you assured him gently, “but you need to rest. It must be the concussion messing with your thoughts?”

“You always look nice,” he said, voice barely audible. “I just… I don’t say it.”

You fought the urge to reach out, your fingers itching to brush a stray hair from his forehead, but you kept it professional. You had too.

He blinked slowly, eyes heavy, then half-closed. “Maybe... after all this, you could show me how you stay so calm. Teach me to be like you.”

Your breath caught, a delicate warmth blossoming deep in your chest. The quiet hope in his voice made the sterile room feel suddenly intimate, like you were the only two people in the world.

You gently squeezed his wrist, your smile soft and full of promise. “I’d like that, Bob. When you’re ready.”

His tired smile deepened, genuine and vulnerable, and in that moment, the space between you seemed to shrink until it disappeared entirely — a quiet, tender understanding passing between you.

For now, rest was what he needed most. But soon, you knew, there would be time for more—time for laughter, for stolen moments, for something real and lasting. And when that time came, you’d be there. Right beside him.

Because some connections were worth waiting for.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Off The Beaten Path.

Part One

Summary: Nivea Douglas takes Terry Richmond into her home after he saves her. Terry doesn’t want to be a burden, but Nivea insists.

Author’s Note: back with another story for Terry! This one will be short chapters. It’s just easier to write. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Obession, Smut, Primal Kink.

Silently, he prowled through the forest, crushing grass and twigs alike beneath his unsteady stride. His unseeing eyes flicked across the trees that passed in a blurry mix of greens and browns, searching mindlessly for his next victim.

He was only sixteen.

The evening sun had already started to set, casting the quiet forest in a haze of blood red hues. The forest was dead silent. His heavy steps were enough warning to send its usual inhabitants scurrying away to their hiding places. Even birds dared not to frequent the sky above his path, well aware of what consequences would await them. Instead, the forest remained hushed, as if every living thing was watching with bated breath as he trudged a path through the rich amber oak trees that shifted lightly in the crisp evening breeze.

He welcomed the numbing sensation in his sore, aching limbs when the crisp, winter air had grown colder and stronger.

Though he refused to look, he knew that bruises already painted the majority of his wretched flesh. Most of the pain had faded to haunting memories, however, his most recent mark still burned. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he continued on his path. One leg moved after the other in a steady rhythm. What little control he had left was slowly removed as the curse flowed through his bloodstream, igniting the beast.

There was nothing he could do now but watch the creature inside of him surface, taking full control to do it’s bidding.

Suddenly, he heard something.

A light, airy laugh rang out throughout the clearing. It was a jarring sound, bright, beautiful, and full of life, unlike anything he’d ever heard. Momentarily, he could feel himself surface, gaining control to savor the enchanting sound. However, the moment came and passed in a breath and the beast came forward, regaining control of his body and forcing him back to become a prisoner in his mind once more…

———

Present Day:

Nivea could almost taste victory as she sprinted along a winding dirt path towards the finish line. Her bohemian locs swept up into a ponytail oscillated across her upper back and the forest green GymShark matching set she wore felt more compressed from the amount of sweat that seeped from her pores. Heart pounding, ragged breaths unheard because of her AirPods, Nivea charged ahead, ignoring the burning in her glutes and thighs.

Beyoncé– America Has A Problem pounded her eardrums pleasantly. Her pink and green HOKA running shoes cushioned her size eight feet from the gravel and twigs. Running along Moon Seed Loop was an early morning ritual for Nivea. She’d been doing it faithfully since moving into her new Victorian style home with a wrap around porch.

Acadiana Park is a jewel in Upper Lafayette. It’s a beautiful place to wander with your kids, family and friends. An afternoon along the trails is more than just exciting—it’s an easy way to work in some exercise and learn a thing or two about the Park’s rich, natural landscape. Expect to see countless varieties of trees, fish and birds along the trails and beautiful waterways.

Nivea was hired as the sole Veterinarian for a pet clinic not too far from her home after moving to Louisiana from Phoenix, Arizona. She started out at The University of Arizona and after graduating she moved to the UK to study abroad and later received her doctorate. It granted her opportunities to spend time in Australia, South Africa, The Caribbean, and New Zealand. She’s in her early forties now, never been married, dated here and there, only having one long term relationship with a guy she knew from high school.

To be daring is to be bold, adventurous, and a little nervy. It’s a quality possessed by people who tend to take risks. Nivea had an audacious approach to life. Leaping off cliffs, skydiving, mountain climbing, swimming with sharks, even the little things like getting a tattoo or racing a motorcycle and even crowd surfing. Reckless and venturesome. Athletic and beautiful. She’d gotten those qualities from her late father. He was a veteran haunted by memories of the war.

Her mother, a free–spirited woman born in Trinidad and raised in New York, took a chance and moved to Phoenix where she’d met Nivea’s father who at the time still served in The Military. Nivea didn’t stay in one place for too long, a military brat who embraced a new scenery. Like her mother, Nivea didn’t have a problem with change. She embraced it.

Just like she embraced the burning in her lungs and the way her muscles ached. At the end of her run, Nivea slowed down and began smiling in victory. She placed her hands on her hips to catch her breath before pausing her music. Cracking her neck, Nivea perched her back against an old oak tree to settle her nerves before making the trip back to her car.

She licked her full, bottom lip, tasting the saltiness of her sweat. The sheen along her honeyed-skin gave her a glow similar to gold. The sun's rays tickled her melanin skin as she pushed her toned legs to the end of the forest and toward her parked vehicle. She dusted her edges with her fingers, reminding herself that she was in need of a hair appointment since it had been some months since her last one.

Her Toyota 4Runner in a desert sand color came to life with a click of a button on her key fob. Beyoncé’s mezzo–soprano voice could be heard from the speakers since her Bluetooth had connected. Nivea removed her fanny pack and opened her driver’s side door, flinging it in the passenger seat before taking a generous swig of water from her navy–blue Yeti cup. Keys in the ignition, Nivea didn’t waste time driving off, leaving her tire tracks and dirt dust behind.

_________

Sitting in his pitch black Dually, a sudden early fall rain showering it, his iridescent eyes were unwavering and intense beyond the boldness of his thick lashes as he watched his new obsession sprint through the forest. Like clockwork every morning, he waited to see her, an overwhelming sensation growing within his chest cavity so strong. Large, calloused hands grip his steering wheel firmly and his nostrils flare.

The first time he saw her, his heart fell. The second time he saw her, his heart fell. The third time, fourth time, fifth time, and every time since, his heart had fallen. He stared at her, and each time a sudden, overwhelming, and involuntary feeling of deep connection and devotion would consume him. It was immediate and intense. She’d thrown a wrench into his routine. Couturie Forest was one of the few areas he could escape and not feel as if he’d run into trouble.

She is the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her hair, her eyes, her lips, her body that she worked so hard on, the way she walked, the way she smiled and laughed and the way her cheeks dropped when she’s mad or upset. The way she dragged her feet when she was tired after a long shift. Every single thing about her is beautiful.

He stared at her, tracking her with his eyes, taking in every detail even from the distance between them. When he sees her the world stops. It stops and all that exists for him is her and his eyes staring at her. There’s nothing else. No noise, no other people, no thoughts or worries, no yesterday, no tomorrow. The world just stops and it is a beautiful place and there is only her. Just her, and his eyes never leaving her.

He stared. He traced with his eyes that flicker between a kaleidoscope of colors, sparkling with longing and his stomach tightening because of the powerful, almost gravitational pull that feels inescapable. She’d trapped him and he hadn’t even smelled her yet. Licked her. Traced his fingers along her skin. Filled her.

When she’s gone, the world starts again, and he doesn't like it as much. He can live in it, but he doesn't like it. He’d just walk around in it and wait to see her again and wait for it to stop again. He loved when it stopped. It’s the best fucking thing he’d ever known or ever felt, the best thing, and that, beautiful woman is why he can’t ever just leave.

A part of him wished he knew how to quit her. The strong sense of loyalty and dedication to her made it nearly impossible. Quite frankly, it is impossible. Once it happens…it happens. This wasn’t fate. Fated mates are predetermined or destined partners. No…this was sudden. Sparked immediately. An unbreakable connection that awakened his protective instincts. It was so instantaneous. He’s far from that. He needed to be in control at all times.

Turning the key in the ignition, his truck rumbled to life and suddenly his tires began to move him beyond the damp soil and onto the roadway. Jaw clenched, the sun began to peek out, his eyes appearing to have golden flecks in a sea of green. He tapped the brake pedal with his boot–covered foot until her 4Runner came into view. As soon as it came into view, his heart fell again. He waited and then he was off, trailing behind her.

The ride lasted twenty minutes and he found himself staring at her beautiful body swaying up the steps and toward her front door. He stroked his bottom lip with his thumb, staring at the home. He couldn’t get too close because she had surveillance. It wouldn’t look good showing up uninvited. He had to settle for watching her. Hoping that he would introduce himself to her. It’s been a long two weeks.

_________

Nivea took off her shoes within the foyer of her home. Her Great Dane with its square jaw and imposing size galloped up to her and stood on its hind legs to greet her. Nivea giggled at her dog, rubbing it before walking away. Before taking a much needed shower, Nivea made a quick stop into her uniquely decorated kitchen with its vintage appliances and greenery. She opened her Big Chill Retro Fridge in a canary-yellow color and grabbed a pitcher of filtered water.

Nivea proceeded to pour the water into a tea kettle on the front left burner of her 1950’s vintage oven. Flames ignited the pot and Nivea took that time to prepare her ceramic mug with some organic lavender tea. She scooped some tea herbs from a mason jar into the mug and retrieved her tea spoon. Coco, Nivea’s large yet gentile dog, followed her towards the kitchen table, earning a few scratches behind her ears.

Staring out of the large window overlooking her garden, Nivea thought about her date that evening. She’d agreed to go to dinner with a man named Ian who’s German shepherd she’d taken care of. Nivea was wary about Ian for a while, because he’s recently divorced. The man was persistent in asking her out, even when his legal troubles were ongoing. That charming smile and carob skin distracted her and she couldn’t help but smile whenever he’d come in with his dog. Ian with his salt and pepper locs, well–muscled frame, and charisma.

The whistle of the kettle had Nivea standing from her seat. She turned off the stove top and poured the water into her mug. Nivea allowed it to steep for five minutes before taking a small sip of the hot tea, shutting her eyes as the immediate calming and therapeutic effects wash over her. With her tea, Nivea left her kitchen and made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. On the second floor landing, she paused to sip her tea again.

What was she going to wear? A dress? Jeans and a cute blouse? Heels? Flats? The sound of the shower beyond the master bathroom filled her spacious bedroom as she combed through racks of clothes within her narrow walk–in closet. Multiple dresses were left discarded as she tossed them to the side. She still had hours to go before her date, but the thought of entering the dating scene again sparked her anxiety tremendously.

While nervousness is expected when meeting a new person, dating anxiety is more intense and long lasting. Nivea’s long term relationship caused her emotional and physical pain. Her ex fiance had been controlling and manipulative for years, one of the reasons why she’d left Arizona behind. While he moved on as if nothing happened, Nivea lived in fear of meeting someone new.

Nivea settled on a ruffled halter mini dress in red with a black moto jacket and distressed black heeled boots. She pinned her locs up and undressed herself, tossing her dirty athletic attire into her bin. She entered her bathroom and stepped into the shower. Nivea took her time cleansing, exfoliating, and moisturizing. Back in her room, she slipped on a thin, graphic T-shirt and loose sleep shorts with fuzzy socks. Locs in a messy bun, Nivea left her room with her mug in hand to enter her office for a bit of light reading.

Entering her office, she opened her window to allow a breeze in. The smell of rain and grass filled her nose as she curled up on her reading chair. Opening her smut book to where she left off, Nivea pursed her full lips to fight the urge to smile. She couldn’t wait to finish where she’d left off. Meanwhile, the black truck out front hadn’t made an effort to leave.

___________

“Table for two, please.”

The cool evening air transitioned into toasty coziness as they entered a semi–crowded Steak House. Pleasant, savory smells and the clatter of utensils against plates teased their senses. Nivea clung onto Ian’s bicep as her eyes swept over the restaurant in anticipation. The hostess, a pleasant Asian girl with long, shiny black hair and a pointy face, gathered two menus before leading them away from the booth and towards a table shrouded in a low ambiance.

“Thank you…”

Ian worked to pull out Nivea’s chair. She smiled at him with her ruby-red lips. Ian pushed her in closer before taking his place across from her. They locked eyes for a brief moment before staring down at the menus before them.

“I know I’ve said it before, but…you look beautiful.”

Nivea smiled, “Thank you, Ian. You look very handsome.”

Ian wore a black Lacoste polo shirt and khaki pants with black dress shoes. He had a fresh retwist, locs falling over his broad shoulders.

“Did you work today?” Ian asked.

Their waiter made his way over, a tall, white male with sandy brown hair and dark blue eyes that reminded Nivea of the Pacific Ocean. His name is Ben. Ben filled their water glasses and vowed to return shortly to take their orders.

“I had an off day. Went for my morning run in the forest and spent the remaining day inside. Something I cherish when I can since my schedule is full most of the time. You?”

“Detective work never dies. Working this case that’s taking a toll on me…”

Ian released a stressful sigh.

“…do you want to talk about it?” Nivea questioned cautiously.

“Nah. I don’t want to unsettle what’s supposed to be a romantic evening,” Ian smiled faintly, “Tell me a little more about you, Nivea. What does a Veterinarian do for fun?”

Nivea chuckled, “I make the most of life. I love to travel, I’m an adrenaline junkie…yes, yes. While I do love a good time, I have my moments where being alone with my Coco is enough. Reading, meditating, gardening…I do a little bit of everything.”

“Kickboxing? Let’s not forget that.” Ian mentioned with a smirk.

“Oh yeah, how can I overlook that,” Nivea replied sarcastically, “Didn’t mean to startle you with my high kick.”

“That leg is lethal,” Ian laughs, “I mean, seriously. We could use you on our team.”

Nivea giggled behind her hand, “How would I be of use to you? What would a kick do to take down an armed killer?”

“You’d be surprised.” Ian quipped.

“Sure,” Nivea’s dimpled smile increased, “Tell me about the case.”

“Eager, are you?”

“Let’s just say…I’m a true crime lover. It fascinates me.”

Ben made his way back over. Ian ordered a bottle of red wine and oysters.

“This case isn’t for the faint hearted, Nivea.”

“My heart isn’t a home for cowardice,” Nivea replied.

Ian looked upon her with a deep stare that seemed intrigued and surprised by her words. Nivea simply smiled, one brow arched.

“Okay. I’m sure you’ve heard about the missing hikers from Monroe?”

“I have. The two couples…”

“Yeah…well…they’ve been found. And…all four are dead. Bodies mutilated and buried beneath a slashed tent on Palmetto Island Campground.”

“Goodness…mutilated?”

“Disfigured. Large slash marks and bludgeoned.”

“You don’t think an animal had something to do with it?”

Ian shook his head, “We’ve looked into that. There’s no way. Their wallets and other personal belongings are missing as well. Someone did this. No eye witnesses.”

“Jesus,” Nivea accepted her filled glass of wine from Ben, “Any signs of a struggle? Defensive wounds?”

“Yes. You could tell they tried to escape. Two bodies were found away from the campsite. They received the worst possible attacks.”

“Scary…”

Ian nodded his head in agreement, “Shaken up?”

Nivea glanced over at him with a tiny hint of a smile, “A little. Maybe I should be careful running alone in the forest while a killer is at large in Lafayette.”

“Maybe you should run on a treadmill for a while instead.”

Nivea giggled.

“I’m serious, Nivea.” Ian said.

“I’ll be fine, Ian. I run along the Moon Seed Loop trail.”

“What difference does it make? You’d be better off in a gym.”

Nivea shifted in her seat. Ian sensed her unease.

“Sorry. I just…I want you to be safe.”

“I appreciate it. Really. I know it’s in your nature to worry. But I’ll be fine.”

Ian took a sip of his wine. Their oysters arrived and Nivea ordered red snapper.

“Fish at a steakhouse?” Ian teases.

“I’m pescatarian.”

“Oh–I didn’t know—”

“It’s okay. I used to love red meat at one point. That was ten years ago.”

“Next time, I’ll take you to my favorite seafood place.” Ian vowed.

Nivea smirked beautifully, “Next time?”

“Absolutely. I’m going to do whatever it takes to win your heart.” Ian confessed.

“Woah there, tiger,” Nivea said, “Still have to get through date number one.”

“I have a lot of work to do then.”

“Damn right,” Nivea replied.

“It’s worth it. You’re worth the trouble.” Ian said.

“Good trouble.” Nivea replied with a tilt of her glass.

They shared a look. One filled with excitement and anticipation.

“Why Lafayette? Phoenix is a great city.” Ian asked.

“Got tired of the desert.”

Ian laughs, “Seriously. Why the sudden change?”

Nivea shrugged a single shoulder, “I wanted a fresh start. My love life was at its end. They offered me a hefty salary here. I’ve always loved Louisiana. Didn’t see why not.”

“Ex boyfriend?”

“Ex fiancée,” Nivea dramatically enunciated.

“Oh? You were engaged?”

“To a narcissist. One of which scarred me for life. One I kept going back to even after he’d proven to me time and time again I meant nothing to him.”

Nivea drank some of her wine to conceal the tightness in her throat. So long ago yet so fresh.

“I’m sorry, Nivea. I know what it’s like.”

Nivea cleared her throat, “Your ex wife?”

“Shannon. We built a life together. Had two children. She had an affair with her personal trainer. Threw away almost twenty years of marriage.”

Nivea didn’t know what to say. She’d been cheated on in the past, but in the same breath, she’d done the cheating herself. New dick to numb the pain. That ‘we shouldn’t be doing this’ rump. She could recall how good it had felt to have another man make her cum on his dick and take his cum down her throat. Going back home to her ex fiance with the stench of another man on her.

“The divorce was amicable I guess?” Nivea asked after a long, awkward pause.

“It was. However, it left its mark on the kids. My daughter is taking it the hardest.”

“She’ll come around I’m sure.”

“I hope.” Ian responded in a solemn tone.

Nivea perked up, grabbed her glass of wine, and raised it.

“Let’s toast to new beginnings.”

Ian lifted his glass high and both of them clinked them. Ian watched Nivea down her wine in one sip. He chuckled into his glass.

“More?”

“Hell yeahhh! Whoops—”

Embarrassed by her outburst, Nivea giggled into her hands. Ian simply laughed.

“Sorry, I’m a bit of a wine–o.”

“No worries. I love when you let that side of you show.”

Nivea’s tawny–brown skin tinted beneath his gaze as she fought the urge to smile.

________

A Week Later:

Sitting in anticipation of seeing her again left him feeling anxious. It’s been too long since she’d entered his life without any real connection. He’d heard her voice through a window and as she was leaving work, but he hadn’t smelled her. Touched her. All of which he longed for. He occupied his usual parked spot hidden from view, dressed in a black T-shirt and Wrangler Jeans. One elbow propped up against the open window of his truck while his other hand gripped the steering wheel.

Checking the time, he should have expected to see her pass beyond the trees. However, an uneasiness settled in the pit of his stomach. She’d never missed a trail run. It was a part of her meticulous routine. Had she overslept? Did she decide to skip a run? Why would she alter her routine? Frustration and worry coursed through his body as he contemplated leaving his truck behind to search for her.

He kept a distance because he knew what it looked like stalking her. She’d be afraid, call the police, and he couldn’t have that. Not when he needed her so badly. Stroking his bottom lip with his thumb, his ever–changing eyes moved about, hoping to spot her. Minutes stretched on and so did his patience. His mind drifted to the worst possible scenario. One he was all too familiar with. Begrudgingly, he opened the door to his truck and climbed out. His heart hammered away behind his mended ribs as he walked along the gravel leading into the trees.

He made his way onto a trail, pausing his steps. Eyes searching from one end of the forest trail to the other, he allowed his sensitive sense of smell to pick up her scent. His keen eyes paid close attention to any disturbance in the forest before him. Trampled vegetation. Disturbed soil. As these can leave behind unique scent profiles.

He was far away from his truck now, the smell of lemon peel, oak moss, and mint burned his nose. A metallic smell made his muscles tighten and his tongue tingle. He picked up into a run, trailing off the beaten path, away from what her usual route would be. As he ventured into the wilderness, the metallic–like scent grew stronger, enough to make him lose sight of his destination. His footsteps paused a few feet away from a man-made ditch, and as his eyes peered into it, there, he’d found his latest obsession.

She was unconscious, filthy, and bleeding from a laceration on her head. He frantically jumped down into the ditch and scooped her into his arms. His nose crinkled as the smell of blood seeped in. He pressed two fingers against her neck, faintly making out a pulse. She’s alive. Relief washed over him. Standing, he cradled her limp body in his arms. He hoisted her up and onto the ground carefully before hopping out of the deep darkness of the ditch.

He couldn’t leave her there, she needed to go to the hospital immediately. As he made his way over to her, he caught a whiff of something unfamiliar. Something unwelcome. His eyes searched around him, fists tightly clenched. The trees lashed and crashed against each other like drumsticks in the hands of a giant. It was eerily quiet. He could sense something watching. A painful groan from her captured his ears and he immediately focused all of his attention on her.

She stirred on the ground, face frowned and her eyes moving beneath her closed lids. Terry held his breath as he crouched down to look at her. He placed one hand beneath her head for protection, his eyes staring down into her beautiful face. When she opened them slightly, his lips parted to speak.

Her soft locs in his calloused hands he adored. Her tawny skin was a work of art with her arms covered in tattoos. Lips plump and soft. She’s a goddess. Pools of brown peered up at his face with difficulty. She furrowed her brows, trying to make out who this stranger was as the sun above made him less distinguishable. She parted her lips to utter a few words, but it required energy she didn’t currently possess.

“It’s okay…you’re safe now. I’m gonna take you to the ER.” He spoke softly as her consciousness began to fade again, “Just hang in there…I got you.”

Her head lulled as he picked her up. Quickly and carefully, he made his way back to his truck. Once there, he flung his back door open and placed her on her side with her head reclined on a wrinkled flannel shirt of his. He slammed the door shut and rushed to the driver’s seat. Truck rolled to life and he took off with a quick burst of speed so fast he almost collided with a tree.

The nearest emergency room wasn’t too far of a drive. What would have been twenty minutes on back roads took him ten minutes or less on the I–10. As he drove, weaving his way through traffic, he would look back to check on her, making sure she was okay and not bleeding out. As his truck screeched to a stop in the visitor parking lot of the emergency room at Ochsner Lafayette General Medical Center, He quickly left his car to grab her.

Bystanders watched as he carried her through the automatic doors. Medical staff rushed over, surprising him with how diligent they were with getting her to a room. His heart thumped as he watched them place her on a gurney and secure the safety rails. Sweat doused his body from head to toe. The adrenaline was running through his body. He could make out someone trying to speak to him, but his eyes were glued to her distant figure as she traveled down the EMS corridor and towards the resuscitation area.

“Excuse me, Sir?!”

A woman in teal green scrubs shouted for his attention from the reception area. He allowed his eyes to sweep over her and then the reality of where he was and what he needed to do hit him. He took long strides towards the desk, bracing himself there as he tried to calm his nerves.

“Can you tell us what happened? Who it is you brought in and what’s your name and relationship to the patient?”

Another woman with ceil–blue scrubs and a scrub jacket with little faces of children printed on it sat typing away at a registration computer.

“Uh, yes…I’m not sure what her name is. I…I found her…”

His eyes glanced around him warily.

“Found her where, sir?”

“Unconscious. In a ditch. She’d fallen in.”

The two women shared a glance with each other, one that told him they weren’t very trusting of him.

“Where was this?—”

“Moon Seed Loop.” He replied abruptly with a deep voice.

“The trail?”

“Yes,” he stroked a large hand down the front of his hair, “I don’t know her. I just saw her laying there and rushed to bring her in.”

The woman asking questions seemed to relax after those words but still kept an eye on him.

“Did you try performing CPR?”

“No. She’d woken up at some point before going back out.”

“Okay, and what’s your name to put on file?”

“Terry Richmond.”

“Contact? Unless you wish to stick around.”

“I’ll stick around.”

Terry peered into the waiting area, not too thrilled with sitting amongst a bunch of people. But he refused to leave without making sure she was okay.

“Alright. We’ll keep you posted.”

“Thank you.”

Hands in his pockets, he made his way towards the waiting area filled with sick patients.

__________

Plain walls.

The beeping of a monitor.

Fluorescent lighting.

A whiteboard listing her information.

The name of the nurse taking care of her and the physician.

Metal side rails caging her in.

Stark white linens and pillows beneath her head while she lay in Fowler's position.

A hep–lock was placed in her arm and connected to an IV secured with tegaderm. She’s still wearing the GymShark pale blue set but it was covered in dirt stains. Her head pounded from an intense migraine as she tried turning her head.

The pulse–ox on her finger beeped as she moved. Suddenly her curtain had been pulled back and an older white woman with ginger hair and a freckled face appeared. She wore navy blue scrubs with a name badge that read Leslie.

“Hello, Miss. Douglas. I’m nurse Leslie. Glad to see you awake.”

Nurse Leslie sauntered over to check her vitals. Nivea touched the back of her head over a tender spot and felt staples.

“A pretty gnarly lac ya’ had there. Thank goodness the young man that brought ya’ in found ya’.”

Slightly disoriented, Nivea sat up completely in her hospital bed, “Young man?”

“Yes ma’am. Now, can you confirm some things with me, Miss Douglas? Dr. Laphaun would like for me to give you some Tylenol. Just tell me your name and date of birth please.”

She groaned In discomfort, “Nivea Douglas. March twenty first. Nineteen eighty two.”

“Thank you. Here’s your Tylenol and some water…”

Nivea accepted the medicine and washed it down with the water. Her mouth was so dry from dehydration.

“Fluids are nearly done.”

“Leslie,” Nivea placed her cup down and reclined back, “is the young man a detective?”

“I don’t think so. Doesn’t look it. Looks more like a handy man. Tall, muscles, pretty eyes…ring a bell?”

“No—where did he find me? I was out for my morning run and—”

It was cold. She felt her pulse accelerate as her sneaker–clad feet imprinted the dry grounds of Mount Seed Loop. The air thickened around her as she ran faster. Paramore kept her going as she mouthed the words Hayley Williams sang. As she crossed a bridge, an intense wind picked up, causing her to sway slightly. Nivea slowed to a stop, bracing herself along the bridge. Her dark brown eyes focused ahead, and there, staring her in the eyes, was a wolf. Its piercing amber eyes didn’t waver. Nivea took two steps back, and the wolf took two steps forward. A low growl sounded from its muzzle and all sense of animal awareness left her body and was replaced with a fight or flight response.

Nivea ran, leaving the trail and entering beyond the trees. It was behind her, darting between the trees after her to attack. She didn’t know where she was going or why she thought running into the forest was a good idea, but soon, the wolf stopped chasing her, possibly finding something else more interesting. Nivea tried to stop running, but she tripped over an uproot and fell into what appeared to be a perfectly concealed ditch. Nivea gasped, too startled to comprehend what was happening. Her head collided with a sharp stone and her world went black…

“Almost ready for discharge, Miss Douglas. Dr. Laphaun will be in again to check on you before we release you. I’m assuming the young man waiting is your ride home? If not, we can call you an Uber.”

Bemused, Nivea tried to recall if she could remember the man that saved her from an almost fatal accident. Visions of a figure looking down at her flashed across her eyes, and words she couldn’t discern before.

“It’s okay…you’re safe now…”

A man’s voice. A voice of resonant quality. Gruff and husky.

“Can I see this man?”

“Sure! I’ll go grab him for you…”

Nurse Leslie exited the room and Nivea watched her turn down a hall. The distant sound of voices and a ringing phone could be heard. Nivea didn’t know what to expect when that curtain opened. But whoever this man is, she’s forever grateful for his kindness.

A knock to the frame separating her room from the outside startled her.

“Miss. Douglas. It’s Dr. Laphaun. May I come in?”

“Yes,” Nivea sat up, “You can come in.”

The curtain opened to reveal a white male with a bald head and tired eyes. He approached her left side.

“Just doing one final check. Your vitals are stable. Let’s take a look at your head again…excellent. So, I see you’re a veterinarian! How exciting.”

“Yeah,” Nivea gave him a small smile, “Neurological exam good? MRI results?”

“All good. You’re a lucky woman. As I’m sure you know, rest is a crucial part of concussion recovery. Once your symptoms improve, a gradual return to normal activities is recommended. I suggest taking at least a week off from exercise. Maybe your practice as well to be sure.”

“I have a lot of appointments this week, Dr. Laphaun—”

“All that I’m sure can be postponed, Dr. Douglas. The dogs and cats would be grateful to have a competent provider taking care of them.”

“Okay,” Nivea replied with a sigh, “Tylenol, elevate the head, cold compresses if swelling occurs…anything worsens I’ll be back.”

“All the above.” Dr. Laphaun said.

Another knock brought Nivea’s attention to the curtain. A nervous tickle in her stomach.

“Looks like your knight in faded jeans arrived!” Dr. Laphaun jokes.

The curtain opened to reveal a man standing at 6’3 with a body mass index that took up most of the entryway. His eyes are indeed pretty. Hypnotizing. An array of colors that seemed to change whenever the light hit. Sculpted jawline, generous lips, tattoo–covered arms, skin a toasted brown from the intense sun of Louisiana. His black T-shirt stretched over what had to be a well–sculpted torso and the faded jeans Dr. Laphaun was referring to fitting his lower half snug in all the right places. He had a rugged look to him with dark, almost black hair that stood out boldly. Thick, dark lashes and brows with hair that Nivea could tell grew out of control if he didn’t keep it cut low.

Nurse Leslie worked to remove Nivea’s hep–lock. Dr. Laphaun made his exit after shaking the Adonis’s hand. Nurse Leslie informed Nivea where her things were and asked if she needed help out of bed and into a wheelchair.

“I’ll be back with a chair.”

Nurse Leslie left the two of them alone. Nivea locked eyes with the man who was staring back at her unblinking. She broke her eyes away as she tried to swing her legs over the edge. Immediately, the man was by her side, one hand on her back and the other reaching out for her hand.

“Woah, woah. Careful…”

Nivea cast him a wary glance.

“I’m Terry.” He finally introduced himself.

“Nivea.”

Silence stretched on as they locked eyes. Nivea didn’t know what came over her, but she leaped into his arms, circling his neck with her arms in a choking embrace. Terry quickly secured her waist with his hands so she wouldn’t fall. Nivea cried against his neck, the smell of his scent crowding her nose. It was earthy and warm.

“Thank you, Terry! You saved my life!”

Terry was rigid against her.

“Okay, oh!–I’m so sorry—”

Leslie turned beet red. Nivea moved away from Terry with a sheepish smile while rubbing tears from her eyes and snot from her nose.

“Giving Terry here a proper thank you for saving me.” Nivea giggled softly.

“What a lovely young man,” Leslie patted him on the back, “Think you’ll be okay to wheel her out to ya’ truck? If you want ya can pull up and I’ll take her out.”

“Good idea,” Terry patted his back pocket, retrieving his keys, “I’ll be out front.”

Leaping into action, he hurried out of the room. Nivea’s eyes never left his brawny back until he was out of sight. Leslie helped Nivea into the wheelchair and with all her things, they left the room and towards the emergency room exit. Terry’s pitch black dually truck sat high off of the ground. Leslie stuck around to make sure Nivea could be safely transferred.

Terry lifted her up into his arms and placed her on the seat. Leslie smiled before waving goodbye to Terry and Nivea, turning to enter the emergency room. Nivea kept an eye on Terry as he fastened her in. He shut her door and made his way around. Nivea did a quick sweep of his truck, finding it pristine and cozy. It smelled of Royal Pine. He entered the truck and started the ignition. Terry placed his cell phone on a magnetic phone mount, keying in his passcode and pulling up the GPS. Suddenly, he picked up his phone.

“Sorry,” he gave her an apologetic nod before placing his phone back on the mount, “Where to?”

Nivea elevated a brow at him in wonder.

“536 Sterling Grove, 70503.”

“Got it. Let’s get you home.” Terry said.

@theereinawrites @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @blackerthings @deja-r @kanafunee @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @dremmmm @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @kokokonako @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @playgurlxoxo @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter

[diejager]

could you maybe do more of the Phoenix series or is that discontinued? But if you're still working on it can you maybe do something like monster TF 141 use hunter as a heater? Ik if it doesn't make any sense but like monster TF 141 are on a mission and its horribly cold and they're actually cold so hunter just walks up and turns into a phoenix? and just starts heating up the room 141 is in. idk I just have had this idea in my head for a while

Cw: human heating, tell me if I missed any. Note: Nope! It’s still on going, well, at least the original Au of the Phoenix hybrid!reader spinoff.

“I’ll have a bloody word with the tosser who sent us here,” Soap hissed, body wracked with tremors as he breathed into his mittened hands, hoping that the small bit of heat would warm him just a bit more than the failing heating system of their Siberian  safehouse.

They had planed to rest and warm up their temporary residence while Price took Ghost and you to survey the area, all warmly covered but mostly immune to such cold temperature. A dragon rarely needed anything other than the beating fire in their heart, kindled and powerful; a wraith, long since dead, had no worry about feeling cold or warm, only hunger and anger; and a phoenix, whose body was stuck in a perpetual cycle of life and death, had no fear of being cold when they were an embodiment of life’s fire. 

It was only natural that Price took the only people who could withstand the harshness of Siberia for a long and careful inspection when the others would freeze and shake in their thick boots and warm coats. They safehouse looked old, surfaces covered in a thin layer of dust, shelves filled with canned food - both expired and unexpired- and walls and floors as frozen as the loud winds blowing against the thick windows. It wasn’t much of a surprise that something would malfunction, the soviet era building left to appear rotten and forgotten to fit it’s intended use, and it seemed to lack any sort of upkeep. 

“We’re freezing our arses off in here!” Soap growled out, leaning closer to Gaz’s side to steal more warmth from under his wing, the soft feathers all ruffled, “Can’t even-”

Crunch

The two perked up, hands immediately reaching for their weapons, bodies tense and ready for a fire fight until your head popped in, huffing about the melted snow soaking your clothes. They jumped to their feet, running to your side for a lick of warmth that oozed off your skin. You froze at the grabbing hands, pulling you to the cold sofa and pushed under a mass of groaning and moaning bodies, happily soaking in your fire.

“Let me- ” you squirmed between them, shuffling out from under them to stretch your arms and back.

The four watched your neck crack with a wince, flames erupting from your feet, wild and bright embers licking at your skin until it engulfed you in a fiery blaze. It was both too hot to touch and too strong to approach, a fire that would threaten to burn if they touched you. It worked to protect you from an early death while you shifted into the majestic bird you were, a gentle flame in the form of orange and yellow feathers, softer than any silk and warmer than any suns. 

In your place stood a phoenix, lashes fluttering while your flapped your wings, stretched backwards to scratch the itch from the lack of use. You cooed, preening under their awed expressions before you flew back in your prior position, body heat growing hotter and hotter, strong enough to warm up the entire room. 

“Thank you, Hunter,” Gaz smiled at you, a sweet and grateful grin that made your feathers shyly ruffle up.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting

[fatcathappycat]

Narumitsu flavoured Case Fic Recs

YAY!!! CASE FICS!!! Who doesn't love a good case fic? So here are some of my favourite Narumitsu-flavoured case fics. Or hmm, maybe it would be more accurate to class these as case-flavoured Narumitsu fics? As usual, these are in no particular order, because fanfics are gifts to be enjoyed and celebrated, not ranked.

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1) The Phoenix, and Other Early Birds by Wildfey

Rating: T Words: 10, 1411 Time to read: 7 hours

A wonderful long fic by one of my favourite authors. This one is written from Apollo’s point of view and builds so much empathy for him and all the characters. It’s au, but you forget that as you are reading. This reads as a really good case fic too! You are in good hands, as are our beloved characters.

❤️💙🩵🩷💜💚 Found family is a beautiful thing. This is part one of the 2-part Other Early Birds (a beautiful missing scene that didn't quite fit into part 1)

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2) Dating for a Turnabout by Mikomikono

Rating: T Words: 89, 597 Time to read: 6 hours

Investigations into a smuggling operation lead Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth to a hotel on a beautiful resort island where they pose undercover as a couple... and you know, unnecessary feelings happen. Sweet, funny and entertaining case fic, crafted with an incredible level of detail {:-) :-)

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3) Maybe In Time (you'll want to be mine) by YourAverageBystander

Rating: T Words: 25, 571 Time to read: 1.45 hours

This was so much fun!!!! Fast and loose, very sweet and funny as heck, and a really decent case fic to boot! #pocket noodles #lotta hart is a good friend

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4) Not Perfect, But Loved by zombolouge

Rating: E Words: over 1.1 million! Time to read: 78.5 hours

You like long fics? I like long fics! And I especially love finished long fics! So this fic is for us. Insanely long, insanely fun two-part series with really wonderful FranMaya, Klapallo, Skymahdi and of course our beloved Narumitsu blorbo moments - And these are seriously solid case fics! Buckle up, pack some snacks, and stay hydrated, and seriously consider pacing yourself as you as you are going to be spending some quality time with these fictional folks to the tune of 78 hours, 20 mins and 3 sec, according to my reading time calculator.

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5) Kindred by timepatches

Rating: G Words: 96, 162 Time to read: 6.5 hours Yay! This one is a case fic and a PESS FIC!!! Super charming origin story of Miles and how Pess came to be, with a smartly written mystery at its core, and yes, there is Narumitsu in it. This feels like a novel and I have taken it with me more than once for company over a holiday weekend. It is wonderful.

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6) Folding the Crane by poodlepunk

Rating: M Words: 19, 121 Time to read: 1.25 hours

"Outside, the streets are familiar, but looking at them causes a slight uncanny valley feeling. Different clothing styles and cars and buildings in different places, combined it all makes Miles feel like a lost time traveler. He wonders if he should be more frightened and upset at his situation–his lack of memories, the injury. His childhood friend–now his emergency contact and haunting him like a stubborn ghost."

Miles has amnesia and Phoenix, Kay and loved ones try their best to help him as he recovers. Read if you like getting hooked by good characterization and mystery!

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7) Skin on Metal by KrisseyCrystal (IceCreAMS)

Rating: T Words: 50, 118 Time to read: 3.5 hours

In my Ao3 bookmark, I wrote: "You like tension? You like excitement? You like finely crafted characters and the fantastic edge of your seat, feel your breath hitch, pulse quicken type of thrillers? THEN THIS FIC IS FOR YOU BUDDY!!!" > This two-part series is so GOOOOOD! It really got my adrenaline running. I had read it in the early days of my fan fiction exploration and didn't bookmark it because I was a guest at the time I think. Anyways, a year later and I was still thinking about it so I put a call out on Tumblr and Reddit - thank you again to @littlestuffstohide for reuniting us with this awesome case fic!

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7) los angeles, japanifornia (or, conflicts of interest) by allicanseeispink

Rating: T Words: 50, 958 Time to read: 3.5 hours

It's hard to describe the excitement I felt when reading this fic. It feels so fresh and grounded in reality. This work reads like a movie or a really, really high quality legal drama. Beautifully descriptive, set in actual, physical locations in California, this work comes across as so authentic and experiential. I felt like I learned more about the US legal system when reading it. It's powerfully good and I highly recommend it.

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7) The Disappearance of Trucy Wright by ziskandra for MoonGoddex

Rating: T Words: 10, 953 Time to read: 45 mins

Satisfying one-shot of Trucy and Miles and Phoenix in the early days of their relationship. Good Larry, Franziska and Gumshoe moments too :)

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8) Turnabout Masquerade by cassibee

Rating: T Words: 9, 908 Time to read: 45 mins

Ugh!! This one hurts to share in a way. It is SO good! Truly a mini-bang! Delightful, sweet, tender, endearing and above all, clever, super entertaining... seriously everything you want in a Narumitsu case fic. It's probably of the best Narumitsu aus I’ve read so far but it’s too short and sadly unfinished. My heart broke a bit when I saw that it hadn't been updated since 2022 (on chapter 3 of 4!). But it's all about the journey, right? And the travel is good, my friends. Wishing the author all good things and hoping they are well and healthy, and that maybe one day, I will see an update in my inbox ❤

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9) Talk me down by halfdemonvash

Rating: E Words: 69, 063 Time to read: 5 hours

I bookmarked this one immediately after the first chapter because of the quality of the writing. It is easily one of the best 7 year gap fics I’ve read with solid characterization and some really, really nice schexy times. It's a wonderful case fic too. One of my 'go to' fics when I want a shot of endorphins. So good.

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10) Play Your Cards Right by poodlepunk

Rating: E Words: 29, 723 Time to read: 2 hours

"Phoenix has somehow been dealt a winning hand. Miles Edgeworth wants to go out on a date with him! But after so many years, is it even possible to make the leap from friends to lovers? Also, can the two of them get through one date without stumbling over a dead body? " Another one by Poodlepunk and one of my very first fan fic reads. Still one of my favourite works too {:-) :-)

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BONUS 11) The Dark Turnabout by HopeStoryteller

Rating: T Words: 21, 783 Time to read: 1.5 hours

This one is only Narumitsu flavoured if you squint but I'm including it anyways because I'm so excited to have found HomeStoryTeller as an author. This case fic features our beloved Mia Fey suring SL-9, “State vs Joe Darke.” It’s funny and heartbreaking and exciting even though we know what’s going to happen. Featuring fun scenes with Angel ‘the Cough up Queen’ and lovely moments of baby Phoenix and Mia sibling energy.

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Do you have a favourite case fic that I've missed? Please add to the comments or tags!

Enjoy! 🔎 ₍˄·͈༝·͈˄₎ ੭ ♡* ੈ✩‧₊˚

[worldbuilding-tomfoolery]

A biological take on phoenixes

Trophics and ecology

~ Not a single-member species, but relatively rare due to being essentially fifth-degree consumers

~ ~ Typically omnivorous, preferring rodents and other small animals

~ ~ Before hibernation, immolation, migration, or another energy-intensive phase of life, they will set fire to the nearest rich, burnable area and collect the “burn energy” by magical means yet poorly understood

~ ~ They can “eat” entire swaths of a given biome via burning

~ ~ ~ In these cases, phoenix consumption is on par with some dragons

~ ~ ~ Can be devastating, but desolation events are very rare

~ ~ ~ These burnings have had a significant influence on fire ecology and ecosystems’ adaptations to it.  Many are more resilient to fire and other dramatic disturbances than phoenix-rare regions.

~ ~ A large, highly productive forest has the carrying capacity for only a dozen phoenixes or so; most biomes far fewer

~ Found on every continent and multiple islands

~ ~ Including Antarctica, with penguins

~ ~ Preference for grasslands, savanna, and other quick-recovering biomes

Reproduction

~ Contrary to popular belief, phoenixes don’t reproduce via self-immolation

~ ~ The fire renewal is more akin to a cnidarian returning to a polyp stage, rejuvenating cells and systems

~ ~ ~ Multiple studies have confirmed an individual retains memories both between fire-molts (misnomer stemming from early misunderstanding of the purpose of self-burning behaviors) and during them

~ ~ This would make the phoenix amortal if it weren’t for some other pesky buildups that ultimately give its lifespan a hard cap

~ ~ ~ Still, scientists theorize a phoenix could live somewhere between 800 and 2500 years in perfectly ideal circumstances

~ Pretty typical breeding adaptations

~ ~ Technically capable of breeding any time of year; the plurality will breed in spring or early summer, or else “sync up” with their host flock

~ ~ Two major breeding sites: one in southern hemisphere and one in northern

~ ~ ~ Phoenixes who pass anywhere near the island during family migration will feel a pull proportional to the current phoenix population on it, and many will be drawn to it

~ ~ ~ ~ (Phoenixes have strong navigation and homing capabilities, but this does occasionally lead to host group loss and reshuffling)

~ ~ During breeding season (or when Hot Single Firebirds in their area), both sexes will shed mimicry feathers and grow their signature fiery reds

~ ~ ~ Variety of shades and saturations

~ ~ ~ Males tend to have really showy feathers — long tails, fiery curling, yellows mixed in amid the reds

~ ~ ~ Females take on more of a brassy red

~ ~ ~ Have a variety of mating calls, movement displays, and semi-immolations

~ ~ ~ Courtship is brief

~ ~ ~ ~ Involves a huge range of behaviors as males prove their mettle

~ ~ ~ ~ Some of these displays are taken from other birds, and even dragons

~ ~ ~ Mates tend to practice single-season monogamy

~ ~ ~ ~ Lay about a dozen eggs over the course of the season

~ ~ ~ ~ Each egg is dropped off at a different nest

~ Engage in a kind of adaptive brood parasitism

~ ~ Identify what compels a given host parent to care for young

~ ~ Mimic that thing — feather color, body movement, sound, scent — phoenixes have a broad toolkit and can copy a lot

~ ~ They are master mimics and manipulators

~ ~ ~ Actually quite social, spending most of their time with family groups, resembling them in both appearance and behavior.  Reputation for being solitary because it’s rare to see them in their distinct “rusted” form.

~ ~ Can brood parasitize a variety of species

~ ~ ~ Prefer birds of prey, corvids, and high intelligence generally

~ ~ ~ Form special mutualistic partnerships with firehawks (black kite, whistling kite, brown falcon) in which they hunt together

~ ~ ~ Become fairly contributing members of their adopted social groups, though they cause wider scale damage with their fire feeding.

~ ~ ~ Uncommonly spend time with each other, mostly to court and mate.  Unlike cuckoos, this species does not really have much of a strong, teachable identity.  Fire abilities and behaviors are instinctive; otherwise, each phoenix takes on the traits of its adopters.

Miscellaneous facts

~ ~ Feathers are selectively fire resistant, regardless of appearance

~ ~ ~ Certain times, types, and areas of feathers *are* flammable, and this seems to be to the animal’s benefit

~ ~ ~ Notably, the long ends of wingtip feathers are highly flammable — phoenixes probably light these and brush them against grasses to start hunting fires

~ ~ ~ (It is also unknown how phoenixes light themselves “on demand,” though studies into the chemical pathways are making inroads)

~ ~ Feathers do not perfectly mimic host species’ feathers in structure or color.  They’re close enough to pass from far away, and adopted family members rarely seem to take issue.  However, on close inspection, an expert in either bird species will have no trouble picking a phoenix out.

~ ~ ~ Inspired by that plant that can mimic other leaves and might be able to see

~ ~ It is theorized some phoenixes may be capable of a kind of parthenogenesis via “mitosis” of the “polyp” stage, but the mechanisms for this are unknown

~ ~ Phoenixes’ sheer range of adaptability suggests they have an enhanced ability for “genetic learning,” far beyond the typical influence of epigenetics.  Offsprung individuals are well documented to display traits or behaviors learned by their parents — parents they have never met.  This suggests phoenixes possess a yet-unknown means of knowledge transmission through bodily inheritance.

~ ~ Phoenixes also possess top-tier cognitive skills.  They’ve displayed self-awareness, reasoning, and complex communication.  Some researchers argue these things qualify phoenixes for personhood.

[ink-flavored]

Anthology Blast Prompt 9: Curiosity & The Copycat

for the Tales from Athendrolyn Anthology Full prompt list for the Anthology Blast Tips are appreciated! Contains: mentioned animal neglect, mentioned poor husbandry

Every year, Clemmeck signed up to vend a booth at the Athendrolyn Exotic Pet Breeder’s Convention, and every year he loved it to bits. It was the biggest convention in the country for exotic animal breeders of all kinds— snakes, lizards, frogs, invertebrates, mimics, phoenixes, jackalopes, wolpertingers, and more. Having attended the convention as a guest for nearly a decade, and as a mimic breeder for even longer, he wouldn’t trade his attendance for the world.

Clemmeck had a routine after all these years. It set up its display at the earliest available time, brought snacks to its booth neighbors, and even picked up another animal or two over the course of the weekend. After so many conventions, the other regulars recognized him from his decorations alone.

That wasn’t necessarily difficult, though. The logo for his business, Music Box Exotics, was meant to be attention grabbing, the sign shifting through the spectrum of colors. He made sure to give all his available mimics nametag stickers on the fronts of their temporary enclosures, along with their weight and hatch date. And if any passing guest happened to miss all that, the sparkly tablecloth enchanted to shift around like the night sky was sure to catch someone’s interest.

Clemmeck might go overboard every year, but the trouble was worth it. Since it started breeding mimics as a hobby, it spiraled into a career, its love of animals taken to one of many logical conclusions: creating more animals, and ensuring they all had loving homes to live out their days in. He wanted to be able to sit behind his booth on his stool and be proud of his display—and this year, like every year, he definitely was.

“Morning, Clemmeck,” greeted his booth neighbor this year. Ze was a goblin named Klazzia, another regular hosting zir own kingsnake breeding business, Klazzia Kings.

“Happy Friday,” he greeted, swinging his feet off his stool.

“Not quite yet.” Ze stretched out with a skinny arm and handed over a paper cup of coffee, one of the two in zir hands. “It will be after you drink this, trust me.”

“Thank you kindly!” Clemmeck hopped down from his stool to take it, gnomish hands easily swallowing zirs up. He turned it around to admire the label, a red-orange bird with its wings spread. “Oh, from Phoenix Caffeine?”

“Yep, they set up a booth at the front of the hall again this year.” Klazzia took a sip from zir own cup. “I thought I’d grab us something with a little juice before the real crowd arrives.”

“Thank you again for thinking of me, I very much appreciate it.” He sipped from the cup and hummed in approval. “And I’ll have to thank the folks at Phoenix Caffeine too.”

“They’re very good at what they do. It’s the only reason I’m on my feet this early.”

“You’re not energized by the experience?” Clemmeck set its coffee down and gestured widely at the convention hall. “The excitement of a whole weekend all about your animals?”

Klazzia’s long green ears twitched. “Sure, I’m excited. Doesn’t mean I feel any more awake.”

He chuckled and picked up his coffee again. “I’ll let you get back to waking up, then. Enjoy the convention!”

“You too! Hope we both leave with empty enclosures on Sunday.”

Klazzia returned to zir booth and Clemmeck climbed back up on its stool. It took the opportunity to observe the small trickle of the morning crowd—the VIP ticket holders and other vendors perusing the booths. Not very many people stopped by its table for more than a glance, but it always made sure to greet any potential customers and tell them good morning. It was the least he could do!

The coffee made him a little jittery, but it was for the best. By the time his cup was empty, the convention had opened to the general crowd, and the hall was flooded with creatures of all kinds. Every table of every kind was swamped—and Clemmeck was no exception. He ran back and forth between the ends of his booth, talking about his animals, his business, and even selling a couple mimics to happy customers. The clock hadn’t even hit noon, but his day was already a success!

Things did slow down, eventually. The floor cleared slightly in the early afternoon, the lunch calm before the storm of the show’s final hours. Clemmeck relaxed on its stool again, happy to watch the people go by. Then, someone approached his booth, a calico catfolk with a sleek body of fur. They bent over the mimic displays, peering through the transparent plastic lids.

“Hello there!” Clemmeck greeted.

“Hi,” they said, ears flicking. “These are all mimics, right?”

“They sure are. Are you looking for a friend to take home this weekend?”

“I am! My first one, actually.”

He clapped in excitement, sliding off the stool. “Oh, how wonderful! Feel free to ask me anything about the mimics on display, I can tell you anything you like.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Clemmeck, by the way, I hope you’re having a fantastic time so far.”

The catfolk glanced between him and his animals. “I’m Pirra. And yeah, everyone’s been super nice.”

It nodded, smiling ear to ear. “That’s my favorite part about coming to these shows. It’s such a vibrant, friendly community.”

Pirra purred in agreement. Their whiskers twitched as they perused the mimics in their enclosures, inspecting them all closely. All the way from the four-month-old hatchlings copying dice, pebbles, and pencil erasers, the yearlings copying ring boxes and keychains, and the adults copying calculators and children’s letter blocks.

“This one’s so pretty,” Pirra said, pointing a claw at one of the displays.

Clemmeck leaned over the table to see. They’d pointed to Navi, one of his healthiest adults. She had taken to mimicking a beautifully detailed music box, down to the pattern of the polished wood engravings. Only a few things were out of place, like the lid having a blank spot for a keyhole, and no visible way to wind it up, but on a first glance, Navi was nothing but an inanimate object. He beamed with pride.

“You can hold her if you like,” he offered.

Pirra’s tail perked up. “Really?”

“Of course! Just sanitize your paws first and I’ll pull her out for you.”

They did as he asked, and Clemmeck unlocked the back of Navi’s display. She sat perfectly still as he slid his hand into her space. He cupped her cool body with one hand and slowly pushed her into his other. While she didn’t react on the outside, dozens of little pointy legs crawled over his hand, trying to find a flat spot to settle down. Pirra watched in awe.

“Do you know how to hold a mimic?” Clemmeck asked.

They shook their head. “No, I never have. I actually don’t know a tonlot about them, I saw some people online who keep huge mimic collections, and I thought they were cool.”

He clenched every muscle to keep a straight face. As much as he loved his job, there were always those people. The ones who never bothered to research the animals they were buying before they took one home. Clemmeck wasn’t an irritable person, not by any stretch of the imagination… but those sorts of people got on his nerves.

“I see,” he said, keeping a bright smile. “It isn’t too hard! Hold your paws out, and try to keep them as flat as you can.”

“Like this?” They reached out with both paws at a ninety-degree angle.

“Perfect. Hold still, now, you’ll feel her legs.”

Clemmeck let Navi crawl across his hands to their paws. They gasped at the sensation, frozen in place as she settled down on their soft pads, folding her legs back into her shell. Pirra kept their hands still as stone, but it was clear they were excited, ears tilted forward eagerly and tail swishing across the floor. Clemmeck relaxed a bit—even if they didn’t know anything about mimics, maybe they’d be willing to learn. And there was no better place to do it.

“Navi just turned two years old,” he said, introducing her like his own child. “She’s been one of my best eaters ever since she hatched, and her mimicking instincts are needle sharp, as you can see.”

“Hatched? Do mimics come out of eggs?” Pirra asked. “Was she born a really tiny music box and grew up into a big one?”

“Mimics lay eggs, correct. They can have dozens of eggs in a single clutch, but they’re so tiny when they finally get to the world, most of them get eaten in the wild. Especially since they’re completely featureless at that age, just lumps of shell and muscle.” Clemmeck tapped Navi’s music box lid. “This girl here is mimicking a music box I put in her enclosure last month, but she’s also been a marble, a pencil sharpener, and a small jam jar.”

Pirra alternated between gawking at Navi and at his explanation. “Wow. Somehow I never thought about that, I thought a mimic stayed the same shape its whole life.”

“Don’t feel too bad, a lot of people do. They only encounter mimics taking the shape of one thing, after all, and it’s understandable. In the wild, a mimic will pick a territory and copy the most convenient thing in it, staking its claim on the food and shelter in that area. If another mimic moves in, they fight for dominance, and the loser has to move on and copy something else.” He gestured at the displays. “You always want to keep mimics separate—if they feel their safe territory is threatened, things can get pretty nasty.”

They nodded seriously, and Clemmeck heartened to see them taking in the information. Too often, he’d seen new owners discard the years-cultivated advice from professionals, and it never ended well. But Pirra was curious and polite and handled Navi excellently—if she was calm enough to sit still without trying to escape, that was always a good sign.

“What happens if they don’t have their territory challenged?” Pirra asked. “Do they just stay the same way forever?”

“Nope, not even then. During their breeding season, mimics shuffle around their territory to find mates, so if they end up in a different place, they usually find something else to copy. Truthfully, a mimic that hasn’t changed its mimicry in several months is sign of illness or old age slowing it down.”

“Wow! So do they—”

Pirra shifted their arms and Navi skittered across their paws in alarm. They chirped in alarm, ears going back against their skull. Clemmeck scooped her back into his hands, holding her by her lid so she wouldn’t run off and hurt herself. Her dozens of tiny legs flailed in the air, panicked.

“I’m sorry, did I scare her?” Pirra said, paws folded to their chest.

“She’s just startled, is all.” He tapped his hand under her legs until she recognized it as a safe landing spot, and plopped down into his palm. “Easy, girl, everything’s alright.”

“She’s okay, right?”

“She’ll be fine, don’t worry another second.” Clemmeck ducked down under his booth, where he kept his stash of Calm Down Boxes—it was just one of the display enclosures covered in a blanket—and placed Navi inside one. He popped back up and smiled to assuage their fears. “I’ll leave her downstairs for a little bit, but I’m happy to answer any more questions you have.”

Pirra seemed nervous to respond, tail curled around their ankles. “Well, uh… I guess I was wondering how they know what’s best to turn into. How do they decide what to mimic in the first place?”

“It all depends on the environment and their size.” He pointed to the hatchlings mimicking dice. “These little fellas needed something really tiny to mimic for their first try, and something easy to copy. Dice are a great for a mimic’s first exercise in mimicry, but in the wild, they can be leaves, rocks, or flowers.”

“Wait, so you gave them dice to copy on purpose?”

“Sure did! I give all my animals a different object to mimic every couple months or so, it’s great enrichment and helps them flex their mimicking instincts. Watching them transition from one mimic to the other is fascinating, and I love when I can hardly tell which one’s the real object and which one’s fake.” It chuckled, remembering how many times it had tried to switch out the wrong eraser. “It’s a bit like keeping a cross between a hermit crab and a flytrap plant.”

“That sounds awesome,” Pirra remarked, and it could tell they were serious. Their earlier embarrassment melted away in the face of curiosity. “Do they eat bugs like a flytrap?”

“The little ones eat mealworms and crickets, but Navi down here is eating roaches and hopper mice. When she’s a little older, she’ll be eating full-sized rats. At her full size, she’ll be eating rabbits and chickens.”

Pirra’s eyes wet big. “A whole chicken? How big do they get?”

Clemmeck braced itself—this tended to be the hard part. “Mimics don’t really stop growing. They get too old to support their bodies, and slow down until they pass away. In captivity, with good husbandry and a proper diet, a mimic can live anywhere from fifteen to twenty years, and can get to be the size of a large footstool.”

“Oh.” They glanced to the side, lost in thought.

It was the hard part of raising mimics, Clemmeck would never deny that. His largest mimics had to copy furniture to stay enriched, were expensive to keep healthy, and he still had another five years to go with most of them. Not everyone was willing to make a commitment that large—physically and financially. No matter how much he preached that it was worth it, and he wouldn’t trade a dime of that money for the health of his animals, others simply didn’t feel the same. He accepted that outcome years ago. Besides, potential customers balking at the challenge was always better than an uninformed owner biting off more than they ever planned to chew and abandoning their pets.

“I think I have to think about this a lot more,” Pirra finally said.

“And that makes you smarter than most people at this convention,” Clemmeck praised. They laughed, and he took the opportunity to hand over a pamphlet care guide. “I give this to all first-time mimic owners. If it helps you make up your mind, feel free to take one.”

They took it, a determined fire sparking in their eyes. “Thank you for everything, I’ll definitely come back once I’ve made up my mind.”

“I’ll be here all weekend if you need any questions answered.”

Pirra left with a wave, tail swishing as they left. Clemmeck ducked under the booth to check on Navi. She sat peacefully still, no sign of her earlier stress. He carefully picked her up and placed her back in the display case. He thought again about how calm she’d sat in Pirra’s paws. How much they adored her. Their enraptured questions about mimic behaviors.

He looked off in the direction they’d gone. He really, truly, hoped they’d be back.

Saturday came and went, and he didn’t see a single hair of calico fur. Clemmeck wasn’t embarrassed to admit he’d been keeping an eye out, even asking Klazzia to let him know if a calico catfolk wandered past his booth while he went to lunch. Ze reported back nothing.

Outside of Pirra, though, the day was successful. Breeders and pet owners alike stopped by his booth to pick up a mimic or two. All of his hatchlings were gone before the end of the day. Most of the yearlings remained in their displays, but only one adult was left by Saturday afternoon: Navi.

On Sunday, Clemmeck hoped they’d at least arrive in the morning. It was the last day of the convention, after all. The day when prices dropped to all time lows as breeders became ever more willing to haggle to have as little to carry back home with them as possible. Clemmeck included.

Navi was a beautiful mimic, if it could say so itself. She was handleable, a fantastic eater, and a joy to observe. She would also be a fantastic breeder, if another discerning eye happened across its booth. Her instincts were sharp and allowed her to copy extremely small details—she was its highest priced adult for that reason, and her offspring would be just as expensive, if not more so. Clemmeck really hoped Pirra came back to claim her, but business was business. If another breeder, or even someone else looking for a pet, made it an offer, it couldn’t rightfully say it was holding her back just in case someone else made up their mind later.

The hours crawled by. Clemmeck haggled with the savvier customers, working out deals for the yearlings he had left. Someone tried to make an offer for Navi, but he dismissed the number. Even if Pirra never showed, he wasn’t selling off such a beautiful animal for crumbs. And if Pirra did come back, he hoped they planned to spend a bit more money.

Because buying a mimic wasn’t just about the mimic itself. Like the pamphlet he gave them explained, they needed enclosures stocked with enrichment, appropriately sized feeders, lighting, heat. They required specialized vet care, space, time. Commitment. Care.

No one truly knew how mimics thought. Their brains were so different, and the magic that allowed them to take so many different shapes no doubt influenced their thinking patterns in ways most creatures would never understand. But Clemmeck was of the firm belief that they had feelings. They felt pain, they felt fear, but they also felt safety. They knew when they were being cared for, and when they were being harmed. A mimic wasn’t a blank slate—it was an animal, deserving of proper respect.

That’s what bothered him most about the willingly unprepared keepers, or the hagglers trying to buy his animals for almost nothing. They didn’t respect his work to raise them, first of all, but they also didn’t respect the mimics themselves. It was a commodity to them, a product or a decoration. Doing no work, or only the barest minimum, to learn about the animal they intended to become responsible for made him sick.

Pirra wasn’t like that. Clemmeck could admit when it had made a mistake in judgement—it was a bit jaded after so many years. Pirra had the curiosity needed to care for an exotic animal. They had the caution necessary to understand when an animal was too much work for them. They already held the respect for living creatures that any breeder or pet owner needed at a baseline. It was selfish, maybe, but Clemmeck didn’t want to see that curiosity and care go to waste from anxiety.

It watched the crowd like always, but with a special focus on the catfolk wandering the convention floor. There were a few calicos, it turned out, but none of them were Pirra. The tail was too feathery, fur too long, the wrong colored patches. After lunch came and went, Clemmeck stopped looking, resigned.

And it gave up too soon.

Pirra arrived as the late afternoon crowd thinned, but they didn’t come alone. They hefted the box for a large glass terrarium in their arms and canvas bag full to bursting. Clemmeck leapt off his stool in delight.

“You made up your mind, I see!” he laughed.

“Yep!” Pirra set the terrarium on the ground. “I read your pamphlet and spent most of Saturday asking around at the other mimic booths to get a few more opinions. Even if a mimic gets really big, I have years to plan for it. I think I can do it.” They stood up taller. “I want to do it.”

Clemmeck almost teared up, strangely proud. “I think the Gods wanted you to give it a shot too. Navi’s still here.”

Their tail shot straight up. “She is?” they asked, purring through the words.

He gestured to her enclosure, one of the few mimics he had left. “As beautiful as ever. And since it’s the last day, she’s available at a discount.”

“I’ll take her!”

It was the happiest transaction Clemmeck had ever facilitated. Money exchanged hands and he boxed up their new pet into a travel container. Pirra never stopped purring for a second.

“Thank you,” they said, clutching Navi like a precious and fragile thing. “For this, and for all your advice and information and encouragement and stuff. I don’t think I would have been brave enough to give it a shot without that.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied, the truest sentence he’d ever spoken. “I wish you two nothing but the best together.” Pirra waved goodbye again, disappearing with Navi and their load of mimic husbandry supplies. Clemmeck waved back, until he couldn’t see them anymore. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so happy to sell one of his animals.

-

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@mysteriawrites : [ REPORT READY ]

✧ PROFILE - L&DS

— MYTH

It is said that the immortal phoenix, when reborn, arises from its own ashes.

The universe is vast and holds many secrets, the energies and beings within its realm often fantastical in nature. Despite the often surreal descriptions and tales of them coming from mortals on Earth, phoenixes do exist. However, while they are almost exclusively depicted as birds in tales and art, phoenixes are actually much more akin to humans in true appearance… Though they can, certainly, take on the form of large birds with long, red plumes; perhaps the depictions passed along between humans are not actually so far from the truth after all.

Your existence is a long one, though you do not recall how long. In each lifetime as you grow into your late teens and beyond, there is an instinctual knowledge of what you are, that you are something more than mortal, no matter how much you might look like one - and yet, you cannot seem to remember any of your previous incarnations, though you certainly feel like you have lived many lives. It’s this strange, ever-present, bone-deep weariness that you cannot seem to fully shake. While this feeling doesn’t often drag you down, you can’t help but notice it sometimes, in quiet and contemplative moments. You can’t help but wonder what sorts of lives you’ve lived, what adventures and tragedies you must have witnessed.

There is an aching sense of loss, like you’re trying to cling to the nostalgia of experiences long gone, or like someone dear to you has slipped through your fingers despite your best efforts. Perhaps both those things are true; you wouldn’t really know, and you always come to terms with that at some point in each of your lifetimes. Although you can’t remember your past lives, they leave their marks upon your soul, for better or worse.

— LIFE IN LINKON

You were young when the Deepspace tunnel appeared, the Wanderers along with it. While you and your (adoptive) parents thankfully remained safe amidst the chaos of this event, the city of Linkon as a whole suffered significant damages. It took a while for everything to be repaired, for people’s lives to return to some semblance of normal - and you were not wholly unaffected. The appearance of the Deepspace tunnel and the destruction that happened immediately afterwards was a poignant, formative experience in your early years which contributed heavily to your plans for the future.

So, as you get older, you become a part of a well-known philanthropic organization due to your desire to help others and do something impactful with your life. This allows you to meet a number of influential figures in Linkon City, from leading medical professionals to active Deepspace hunters to artists… and many others.

— ABILITIES

Evol -> Flame wing

When you activate your evol, it manifests as two large wings made of bright yellow to orange flames that seemingly sprout from your back. You are able to adjust their size and flame output, meaning they can be dim sparks or a raging blaze. It’s a very destructive evol, something that can all too easily harm others or scorch your surroundings; it makes you weary, sometimes, knowing that you have to be all the more careful so as to not cause irreparable damage. However, it has more use than outright destruction - you are able to fly with them, and you’ve found that they’re very helpful if you need to light up a dark area.

Your evol is very much tied to your identity as a phoenix. You can adjust your form to have actual, feathered wings; your evol is actually quite compatible with them, surprisingly, and the flames overlay your feathers.

Weapon -> Pistol.

It’s something sleek and compact, but still quite powerful. A pistol is also relatively easy to hide beneath layers of clothing, or within a handbag, which allows you to keep it with you while remaining inconspicuous.. You’ve found that you are able to apply the flames from your evol to the bullets, causing them to pack more of a punch and deal much more damage to your opponents.

… Now, why would a member of a philanthropist organization need a weapon like this? Well, a certain someone figured you should learn how to protect yourself if you were going to remain at his side.

YOUR MATCH IS…

✧ SYLUS

In one of your many lives, you met a dragon.

It was an accidental meeting, resulting from you being a little too curious and getting a little too close to places you shouldn’t have been. But you were young, feeling stifled in your current environment - and why not make use of your wings to explore things that most can’t? You certainly didn’t expect to meet a dragon, and despite starting off on the wrong foot, you found him terribly fascinating. But the romance that bloomed between you two burned too hot too quickly, and it ended in tragedy.

What are the odds that you two would meet again, in a different lifetime? A different timeline, even, what with Earth and Philos being one in the same, past and future, connected with the Deepspace tunnel? Sylus remembers you - of course he remembers you, the one being who made such a drastic impact on his life, the one whose soul became intertwined with his own. He is a little disappointed that you don’t recall the experiences you two shared, but he knows he can’t blame you. How could he blame you for something you don’t have control over? He will just have to get to know you all over again and make new memories - memories that he will keep, that you will once again lose with your next reincarnation.

-> [ You meet Sylus through work. ] Once Sylus caught wind that you were indeed in Linkon, he made quick work of learning what he could about you, where you worked, and places you frequented. While he is the notorious leader of Onychinus, well known as a criminal, he has numerous and varied business dealings that he often keeps lowkey or anonymous - there’s no reason why he wouldn’t connect with a philanthropic organization if it would benefit him (whether personally or business-wise). The N109 Zone is a rough, dangerous area. While your organization might not be likely to agree to help within the area, certainly the areas just outside the N109 Zone could benefit from some help.

-> [ A case of opposites attract. ] At first glance, the two of you are very different in terms of your overall demeanor and appearances. Sylus is dark, smug, detached and yet seemingly ever in control of everything around him. You’re gentle, sweet, with emotions that sometimes affect you more than you’d like. And yet, despite your differences, the two of you are not incompatible - you balance each other out, your differing traits keeping the dynamic interesting. Besides, it seems like each of you are attracted to these opposing traits that the other holds; you can’t help but be drawn to each other.

-> [ When Sylus confesses to you, it feels natural. ] He doesn’t rush it, letting you set the pace of your interactions. It’s a gradual shift from acquaintances, to friends, to two people infatuated with each other but not addressing the subject (even though he has long loved you). He’s perceptive, though, and is quick to pick up on your growing fondness for him. Even though you were surprised to find out his connections to Onychinus, that didn’t stop you from interacting with him because you believed that–despite his associations–he was still a good guy deep down. He treated you well, and you saw how he cares for those he keeps close to him.

Sylus confesses to you before you manage to work up the nerve to let him know about your feelings - it’s simple and sweet, and just a little heated due to the sarcastic banter you two were sharing just moments prior, the words slipping from his lips while you two were enjoying some wine and a meal he made for you both.

-> [ Your desire to help those around you and to be part of something bigger than yourself is very endearing to him. ] Even if he wishes you were just a little more selfish. But he can’t hate the fact that you have a big heart, empathetic and compassionate to those who deserve it (and sometimes even to those who - in his eyes - don’t). After all, it’s this compassion that gave you the courage to get to know him, and it’s this compassion that made him want to open up to you. He’s glad that, even though you’re now a different incarnation of the you he once knew, you still seem to be yourself.

-> [ While you tend to fuss over your loved ones, going so far as to stretch yourself too thin for them, Sylus won’t allow you to take things too far. ] Especially when it comes to him - he is not going to allow you to overextend yourself for his sake. For as much as you try to mother him and care for him (and he will absolutely let you, knowing that it makes you happy when you’re able to help your loved ones), he spoils and pampers you just as much. You can take care of him, but you need to let him take care of you, too. Physically, emotionally, financially - he’ll do his best to make sure all your wants or needs are met.

More importantly, he is your protector. He has no qualms stepping in to ensure your safety, but he would feel better if you had some training in self-defense, both armed and unarmed. He’s happy to teach you, and it actually becomes a bonding activity for you two for a while. Every once in a while, he insists on a training session in order to “keep your skills sharp.”

-> [ Sylus absolutely encourages your sassy and sarcastic side to come out. ] He loves it when that polite, shy exterior of yours starts to melt away around him and you grace him with your sense of humor. Definitely the type to try and rile you up on occasion, especially when he feels like you’re starting to get a bit feisty. He just loves to see it! His banter plays so well off of yours, his humor dry but also just a bit goofy. He loves sharing moments of laughter and teasing grins with you, keeping things lighthearted and sweet when possible.

-> [ He spoils your cat as much as he spoils you. ] The man is definitely an animal lover, despite his appearance. It’s just one of the numerous things that draw you to him and solidifies your adoration for him each day. Whenever he visits your home, he greets your cat with a gruff but soft coo and plenty of pets. Fortunately, your cat adores him - unfortunately, your cat adores him so much that it practically ignores you for at least the first few hours whenever he visits. In any case, your cat would want for nothing. Sylus will provide it with the best food, plenty of toys and scratchers and cat trees, and nice collars that suit your favored colors and aesthetics.

-> [ Sylus is both verbally and physically affectionate. ] While his words of affection are often laced with a teasing tone, he has no problem telling you every little thing he adores about you, every little thing he finds endearing. While you may occasionally feel inadequate, struggling with low confidence in your talents or personality, Sylus will do his best to help chase those concerns away. And, of course, the man loves indulging in any sort of physical affection with you, so long as you’re comfortable with it. He is definitely the type to sling an arm over you in bed and ultimately half-crush you beneath his body while you two sleep in the same bed.

✧ RELATIONSHIP WITH…

— RAFAYEL -> You met Rafayel when your organization was putting on a charity event, the type where any auctions or purchases go towards specific causes. However, he is elusive at best, and he wouldn’t have shown up to the charity event if Thomas didn’t make him. The man attracts attention even when he’s not trying, and you happened to spot him trying to sneak out after only being there for an hour. You recognized him; his face has been shown in a few magazines and such. You thought it was a bit funny, an artist trying to slink out of a charity auction and ducking out of sight from his manager. While you teased him for it, you also didn’t prevent him from leaving… though you made sure to throw in a thoughtful compliment about his art before he left.

While the two of you do not chat regularly, you make it a point to interact with him whenever your paths cross either at events you help put on or if you coincidentally spot each other out and about in Linkon.

— XAVIER -> You would see a young man with ashy blonde hair on the subway some afternoons, dozing off in his seat - you didn’t really think much of it, knowing that some people are good about taking naps on public transport and somehow waking up when they need to, so you left him alone. Some time later, you encountered him again. It was late, the moon high in the night sky as you rushed home from a late shift. You were almost home, but the Wanderer came out of nowhere - but it was gone in an instant, cut down by a beam of light. When you blinked away the spots and stars from the sudden flashes of brightness, you saw that same ashy-haired boy standing there, sword in hand. So he must be a hunter, you had thought.

Xavier offered to walk you home, but you declined, stating that you were already close to your apartment building. Turns out, you two live near each other; not in the same building, but close enough that your buildings are within walking distance. No wonder you two saw each other on the bus so often! Since then, an easy friendship has bloomed between you, and he’s one of your favorite people to spend time with.

— ZAYNE -> You and Zayne frequent the same café. While his schedule can be quite irregular, he likes stopping by a particular café near Akso Hospital during his lunch breaks; you often happen to be there at the same time, since it’s also near your workplace. While you normally don’t make a habit of talking to strangers at a café, there was one afternoon where Zayne was spacing out (he looked quite tired, you noticed) while standing near the pick-up counter and he hadn’t noticed that his drink was ready, waiting for him to grab it and go. You knew it was his because he had ordered right before you, and the café wasn’t particularly busy. He was a bit sheepish when you nudged him and nodded towards his drink, but he thanked you for getting his attention and was on his way.

The next time you two bumped into each other at the café, he struck up a polite conversation, and the rest was history. Your conversations are often brief, but pleasant - you find his work rather interesting to hear about, and he also seems interested in the work you’ve been doing.

— CALEB -> An old classmate of yours. Caleb was always quite friendly with you, one of the few that genuinely didn’t seem to mind your shyness and had no troubles interacting with you. The two of you kept in touch over the years, texting with each other here and there, until you suddenly lost contact with him. The timing of his disappearance and the explosion of that home in the Bloomshore District worries you…

— LUKE & KIERAN -> They are pests but also your (secondary) protectors whenever you come by the N109 Zone. They absolutely love teasing you and Sylus, especially if they happen to catch you two in a sweet, private moment. But for all their jabs, they are truly happy for you both and feel that you complement each other well. While you roll your eyes at their antics sometimes, you don’t mind joking around with them. You even tend to mother the two little rascals a bit, which they either eat up or complain about.

[the-library-of-theories]

So I’d like to get a theory out that I’ve been thinking of for a long while regarding q!Philza and today’s stream seems to be heading into that direction.

CW: Death talk, Spoiler for today’s stream

/rp

Let’s start with evidence before I reveal the theory.

Philza had said and confirmed that his Angel of Death role is relevant and the only one on the whole island who is suppose to know is his son, Cheyanne. No one should know about this besides him.

So why have all this death topic/relevant come up?

We have Bonnie the skeleton horse come around lately and confirms that Tallulah and Cheyanne have relations to death. Tallulah as a guide and Cheyanne as an old ancient king.

When things begin for q!Philza, it was the birdhouse arc. There he is refereed to as the “Crow” or “the Crowfather”, which is a first as he has been referred to as Philza for the longest… so why the sudden change?

Continuing, he is lead on a small journey and suddenly he is trapped by Cucurucho… but could it really be Cucurucho? Since then he was “asleep” for a week, dreaming about his hardcore world. When he comes back, unlike the locked and blocked door, its open and a trail of flowers leads him to… Cucurucho? To me, it doesn’t feel right. Why would Cucurucho lock him up and suddenly let him go? Sure it could be to mess with him, but something doesn’t add up.

Since then, he’s been having hallucination/derealization problems. Can’t tell if he’s awake or if anything is real. Birds are appearing to him whether it’d be in a cage or freed. Birds are given to Phil… like a gift…. And when the updates refer to Phil, it is now as Crowfather.

Going on, his home is constantly invaded by the dark blocks that is spreading throughout the SMP, which to take note, no one else has experience any dark blocks within their home besides from Phil.

Also to keep in mind, the black structures have been appear and if you look at them in a certain angle, they look like pyramids… and what is related to pyramids? Sacrifice.

In the Mexican culture (one of the tribes that reside in Mexico, I can’t remember what they were called) Temples/Pyramids were often used to hold ceremonies… sometimes sacrifices.

Not only that but the holiday, Day of the Dead, happens recently which also announces their departure from Egg Island… to Purgatory. Another thing related to death. There an eye tells what the members must do and of all of the members, Phil is the one to deny the rules for the longest before he eventually fell into his old ways… the angel was released.

And what does the updates call Phil…

“The Angel of Death may not be able to use his wings, but gravity has always been his friend; Phil has Fit in his clutches.”

They know… so what does that mean for Phil?

Well with today, we saw that q!Quackity escaped and sees what Egg Island has become. Not only that but he is suddenly killed off by Evilrucho. Why? Why am I saying this?

q!Quackity had a different ticket than the others. Granted that q!ElQuackity took it, it was still Quackity’s. And he is killed off.

Who else has different tickets?

Slime, Wilbur, Vegetta, and Philza.

I am saying, Philza could possibly be targeted as well as the others… but think… if any of the groups aside from the members of the island, gets their hands on Philza… they got control of death.

What makes this worse is that an entity has been contacting Philza. Saying that it “misses” him (his dark wings that darken the sky and his loud caw {metaphorical} is heard from afar) and that it’ll guide him when the time will come.

Now you can say it could be a positive outcome and its Bonnie the skele-horse and possibly Mumza… but the worst case senecio is Evilrucho who ended Quackity’s life early.

I could be wanting… “his” angel. What’s worse?

The Crow is also known as the “Sunbird” which can be used as another name for the Phoenix. Not only that but with Quackity’s death, comes… canon lives. And with death comes the angel.

I feel like Evilrucho is trying to get Philza at his weakest and turn him onto it’s side… it said it wanted freedom… but what does it require to be free?

Also some side notes:

In the maze, Evilrucho was the one to lead the Pendejo Trio to the spinning wheel. To which it “landed” on Cheyanne’s “number?” Which shows later when the rest goes into the maze that Cheyanne’s duck floatie is the only one in the glass dome, possibly hinting at what I am trying to get to.

Tallulah and Cheyanne are the only ones (aside from Leo) to contact their parent.

Philza has been putting a huge emphasis on his wings lately. (Possibly gets them back?)

Like sons like daughter like father, Philza’s family is known for heavy angst. So what is to say that he won’t have heavy angst for his character~

[budgie-city]

THE ORIGINS OF BUDGIE CITY

Welcome to this informational article where I will be explaining what exactly this "Budgie City" is, where it came from, and in which direction it will be going. So, sit down comfortably - there are some interesting things waiting ahead of you! If you are interested in the lore, visit this article.

What exactly is "Budgie City"?

It is a fictional world that I am actively developing. At the moment, I’m in the process of writing it in the form of a paper draft. I write long texts by hand, and it seems to me that spelling out each letter, unlike typing, helps to approach the composition of sentences more thoughtfully, and to more successfully avoid strange and crooked constructions that will then have to be rewritten and corrected. It is far from the final, but I want to warm up people's interest in this world before the release of a full-fledged work, which is what I am doing now. I will not publish too many pieces of text until I have finished the story completely (though I probably will show some sneak-peeks). For now the content on "Budgie City" is mostly limited to drawings — concepts, sketches and character designs. Gradually, I've been starting to bring this topic to my YouTube channel in order to introduce the setting and concept to my viewers.

You may have seen my first video of Budgie City since 2014, which I have released quite recently — “I am not insane”, a video that focuses on one of the secondary conflicts of the story.

Where did this concept even come from?

It's quite a long story, and it's funny that this year is the ten year anniversary of me registering on the forum called "Budgie City". Yes, it all started with a regular internet forum — a by now almost extinct site format, which in the early 2000s and until about 2016-17 was the main place for interest groups on the internet. Now this has moved almost completely to social media, but before almost any hobby or interest had its own forum with different sections and topics. It saddens me a little that the golden age of forums has already passed.

In 2012, for the New Year, my parents bought me my first budgie — a classic green one, and I named him Gesha. At that time, I was not a regular "user" of the Internet yet. I only started to comprehend the vastness of the virtual network a few months later, and at first it leaned purely on me viewing memes in Google pictures and all sorts of videos on YouTube.

But in the spring of 2013, I discovered these wonderful things known as forums. And it was that point in time when I, having had a budgie with me for a year, decided to find a forum thematically fitting. Upon the request from my country, Google led me straight to the “Budgie City” forum.

The topics on there were something like rooms in a big house. The users randomly surfed through them and followed each other's daily lives. Therefore, Budgie City did actually feel really like being in a virtual society where everyone knows each other. I was getting used to the frequent people, getting to know each person individually. I went to their topics to write comments and answers, they wrote in mine. That's how we existed as this cozy club of interests.

There is an interesting thing with almost every child that is on the Internet — no matter where, in which community — a person with the admin/moder status is perceived as an absolute authority, any response from which causes awe and delight. And there were certain, more active and sociable admins in Budgie City — Anya under the nickname "Phoenix Bird" and Olga under the nickname "Olivka". The "Phoenix Bird" nickname spoke for itself — the image of a large bird of fire that walks around the city and receives admiring glances from everyone, was drawn in my head almost instantly. Olivka didn't have an image yet; I started turning her into a character much later.

Phoenix and Olivka in their modern designs (2022)

In the early summer of 2014, I read "Warrior Cats", and that’s where the whole story took off. I suddenly felt like I should become a writer too and write my own book. And 12-year-old me, who was spending 80% of my online traffic on the forum, decided to write a story, turning part of the admin staff and the budgies of familiar forum members into their own characters. Phoenix and Olivka turned into birds, the latter in particular acquired an image in the form of a wompoo fruit dove with olive-tinged wings, the budgies of the forum were also turned into their respective characters: Gesha and Yasha (mine); Glasha and Gosha (Hoatzin); Clementine, Jack, Fenya, Nira, Mouse, Castorka, Mithril and Small (Phoenix); Kuzya (Dmitriy68), Milana (Radujniy), Raisin (yyna) and others.

Sections of the forum have turned into parts of the city — the restaurant, the mayor's office, the registry office and nursery, and suburbs with parrots of other species, located on trees surrounding baobabs.

This is how the novel of the same name with the slogan "Feathered Metropolis" was born from the "Budgie City" forum. I posted it in its own topic, had about a dozen readers and, judging by the reviews, they all really liked reading the story. Although, looking back at the writing now... I wouldn't call it something breathtaking. Rather the opposite. But then again, I am now judging from the perspective of a third-year animation director student, and not the fifth grader I was at that time.

A couple of my original illustrations from 2014

The story was successfully brought to an end in about seven months, and after a while I started writing a sequel — however, the central conflict wasn’t thought out the slightest, so the plot quickly crumbled and was abandoned after several chapters.

Now the original text is lost in the vastness of the web — somewhere there is a piece of the prologue, somewhere even a couple of chapters. But the full version no longer exists — it was published only on the forum, and the said forum, unfortunately was — somewhere around 2019 — ruthlessly deleted from the Internet due to the desolation. All that's left of it are snapshots in the Wayback Machine.

Rewriting from the old version into a new one

In 2017, three years later, I made an attempt to rewrite "Budgie City" from scratch — leaving only the main conflict, the structure of the world, and the set of characters the same, to write a new text out of this "skeleton". Progress did not go beyond the prologue and the first chapter however, and rewriting was abandoned.

The same story with 2019 — a couple of pages, that’s all.

Two artworks from 2019

The next approach took till early 2021 to happen, when the original story turned almost six and a half years old. At that time I was already in the middle of my first year of animation directing at SPbGIKiT (Saint Petersburg State Institute of Film and Television). I wrote the prologue and part of the first chapter and went to proudly tell our master Galina Voropai about my "really cool" world. Galina interrupted me in the middle of the impromptu presentation, after which followed a forty-minute roast, thoroughly and in detail explaining that the "Budgie City" in its concept is a piece of junk that does not have the right to exist in its current form. And all this was in the presence of my classmates in the workshop. I gave up trying to defend myself halfway through, and when it was all over, I got up, quietly thanked Galina for a detailed objective analysis of the shortcomings of my project, went down to the first floor, huddled in a bathroom stall, and burst into tears.

It was the first (and yet the only) time in my life where I was literally crying over my work, and the girls from senior courses came to my howls, and we sat together on the windowsill of a public toilet. I was all red, shaking, and dropping snot, as they tried to calm me down.

(my mental state that day)

After that, I did not return to those written several pages for about a year and a half. I began to doubt whether I should continue at all or if it would just be a waste of time.

After the roast from the master, I went through all five stages of grief:

Yes, that was tough. But after so much time, I was finally able to evaluate the message of this scolding with a cool head and understand that most of the comments were actually really helpful - the conflict and the world did require a lot more careful study and rework. With the next approach, I wrote out all the conflicts, all the character motivations, and made a proper plan. And since the end of last autumn, I have returned to writing. Now I know where the story will begin, where it will head, and how it will end. All the actions performed by the heroes are finally based in actual logic. And, although Galina will not see the final result (she sadly passed away at the end of 2021), I hope that the new version will be one that she would have approved of.

A small FAQ:

Q: When will the book be released?

A: I don't want to make any promises as of now, because writing is a rather spontaneous and uneven process. I write more when I am inspired, and inspiration is impossible to predict. So the answer is simple — it will come out when it's finished :D

Q: Will it be released electronically or in a printed book form? Will I have to pay for reading it?

A: I plan to release the final version "Budgie City" in the same way as the old one — in open access, so that everyone can read it at any time. I will not charge money for reading the electronic version, but if there will be a demand for physical copies, I may release a small print run, which will cost money for those who want to get a copy. But it's a little early to think about that anyway.

Q: How does the world in Budgie City work? How do they live? What is the main conflict of the story?

A: All of this you can find out in this article!

Q: Where can I find more content to this world and story?

A: On this very blog or on my YouTube channel

I hope this article was helpful and informative enough for you to know where "Budgie City" comes from and in which direction it is currently heading. Thank you for reading!

Huge thanks to @annchanorsomethin for helping with translation of this article!

[headmate-ideas]

[Brought to you by: Mods Klaus and Vyvian!]

🪽 SUBSYSTEM TEMPLATE 🕯️

The Crystal Collective is a subsystem comprised of creatures from the Void that take forms that appear to be a mix of angelic and demonic - they have features like horns, wings, and fangs.

The Crystal Collective help their system navigate general life challenges, mostly in the realms of keeping their life on track, pushing through difficult things, and fulfilling their creative potential.

The Crystal Collective share the system's spiritual practices, and they hold the symptom's psychosis symptoms. They collectively identify as xenine (the xenogender equivalent of "masculine" or "feminine") and all respond to void/voids/voidself pronouns.

✦ Name(s): Soren, Lucius, Daisy ✦ Pronouns: he/him, they/them, it/its, x/xs/xself, ey/em/eir/eirs/emself, void/voids/voidself ✦ Species: Void Entity ✦ Age: same as body ✦ Role(s): subsystem host, manager, spiritual headmate, researcher, symptom holder ✦ Symptoms experienced: paranoia ✦ Labels: neutrois, masculine, omnisexual, xenine ✦ Xenos: nature, stars, fire ✦ Interests/likes: flowers, organization, skin care ✦ Dislikes: being inside for too long ✦ Music taste: ethereal ambient, folk music, folk metal ✦ Aesthetic(s): coffinwood, floral aesthetic, dark naturalism ✦ Objectum attraction(s): crystals ✦ Kins: barn owls, phoenixes, daisies ✦ Emoji proxy: 🦌🌼 ✦ Details:

Soren is the host of the subsystem and considers himself a diplomat for the system overall. He has antler-like horns and wings like a barn owl's. He cares a lot about how the system present themselves to others, both visually and behaviorally. He always has the bigger picture in mind, and he often gives input on decision-making for the system.

Soren follows the spiritual practices of the system, especially divination. He also researches Norse paganism and mythology for them, as well as researching any other topics that are interesting or important to them. The only thing that impairs his ability to make decisions is his paranoia, which is generally not a problem but can be overwhelming when something specifically triggers it.

-

✦ Name(s): Kairos, Nox, Avona ✦ Pronouns: they/them, it/its, xi/xir/xirs/xirself, e/em/eir/eirs/emself, void/voids/voidself ✦ Species: Void Entity ✦ Age: one year younger than body ✦ Role(s): subsystem co-host, phobia manager, protector, replacer, socializer, masker, manager, spiritual headmate ✦ Labels: agender, androgynous, lesbian, xenine, daroric, kenochoric ✦ Xenos: night, death, the moon ✦ Interests/likes: mythology, cemeteries, coffee ✦ Dislikes: waking up early ✦ Music taste: doom metal, drone metal, dark ambient ✦ Aesthetic(s): voidcore, liminalcore, after hours ✦ Objectum attraction(s): the moon ✦ Kins: wolves, Cerberus, bats ✦ Emoji proxy: 🦇🌑 ✦ Details:

Kairos is the co-host of the subsystem and has bat-like wings and ram-like horns. They are tough and unaffected by the phobias or fears the system has, making them an ideal fronter for situations involving things the system finds scary (e.g. blood and needles). He can remove members of the system from need be, and their stress in such situations can front-trigger him.

Kairos is also concerned with presenting the system well to others, handling social situations for them. It is good at masking the system's neurodivergency (and the system overall). It likes structure and routine and keeps on top of things like chores, medication, and self-maintenance. They also leave offerings for the system, do divination, and collect moon water.

-

✦ Name(s): Velia, Quartz, Flora ✦ Pronouns: she/her, it/its, xe/xer/xers/xerself, art/arts/artself, spi/spir/spirs/spirself, void/voids/voidself ✦ Species: Void Entity ✦ Age: two years older than body ✦ Role(s): artist, protector, phobia manager, spiritual headmate, psychosis holder ✦ Symptoms experienced: hallucinations, paranoia ✦ Labels: agender, xenogender, xenine, luxine, spiritine ✦ Xenos: gems, magic, birds ✦ Interests/likes: dried flowers, journaling, art history ✦ Dislikes: creative block ✦ Music taste: lowercase music, deathdream, darkwave ✦ Aesthetic(s): solarpunk, dark academia, witchcore ✦ Objectum attraction(s): crystals ✦ Kins: bears, tulips, smokey quartzes ✦ Emoji proxy: 🐦‍⬛🌷 ✦ Details:

Velia has the wings of a sparrow and four small horns. She loves art and creating things, and she loves expanding the system's range of skills. They understand the system's creative capacities - never underestimating themselves but always knowing when a certain project is too ambitious for the time being, while learning how to get to the point where such a task can be undertaken.

Velia is resilient and good at powering through stressful situations. She is also good at managing situations the system finds frightening. She works with the spirits that the system works with. Her spirituality is often an influence on her art, as is her experience with psychosis, particularly hallucinations (although she also has paranoia).

[beyourselfchulanmaria]

靈鳥 /重明鳥 /Four-Eye Bird（chóng míng niǎo - a legendary bird from China）its call likes the phoenix. 上古時代的神獸靈鳥。

双睛（そうせい）は、中国に伝わる伝説の鳥。

先知 The Prophet 《論法律》 On Laws By 紀伯倫 Kahlil Gibran (Lebanese-American, 1883-1931)

Then a lawyer said, But what of our Laws,

master?

    And he answered:

    You delight in laying down laws,

    Yet you delight more in breaking them.

    Like children playing by the ocean who

build sand-towers with constancy and then

destroy them with laughter.

    But while you build your sand-towers the

ocean brings more sand to the shore,

    And when you destroy them the ocean

laughs with you.

    Verily the ocean laughs always with the

innocent.

    But what of those to whom life is not an

ocean, and man-made laws are not sand-

towers,

    But to whom life is a rock, and the law

a chisel with which they would carve it in

their own likeness?

    What of the cripple who hates dancers?

    What of the ox who loves his yoke and

deems the elk and deer of the forest

stray and vagrant things?

    What of the old serpent who cannot

shed his skin, and calls all others naked

and shameless?

    And of him who comes early to the

wedding-feast, and when over-fed and tired

goes his way saying that all feasts are

violation and all feasters lawbreakers?

    What shall I say of these save that they

too stand in the sunlight, but with their

backs to the sun?

    They see only their shadows, and their

shadows are their laws.

    And what is the sun to them but a caster

of shadows?

    And what is it to acknowledge the laws

but to stoop down and trace their shadows

upon the earth?

    But you who walk facing the sun, what

images drawn on the earth can hold you?

    You who travel with the wind, what

weather-vane shall direct your course?

    What man’s law shall bind you if you

break your yoke but upon no man's prison

door?

    What laws shall you fear if you dance

but stumble against no man’s iron chains?

    And who is he that shall bring you to

judgment if you tear off your garment yet

leave it in no man’s path?

    People of Orphalese, you can muffle the

drum, and you can loosen the strings of the

lyre, but who shall command the skylark

not to sing? 

然後，一位律師說，但我們的法律是怎樣的呢，大師？

他答道：

　你們樂於立法，

　但更樂於犯法。

　如同海邊玩耍的孩子，不斷地堆沙塔，再笑著將它們毀掉。

　不過當你們築沙塔時，大海又將更多的沙子推到岸上，

    而你們摧毀沙塔時，大海又與你們一同歡笑。

　的確，大海總是和天真無邪的人一塊兒同樂。

可是對那些既不把生命看做大海，也不把人制定的法律視為沙塔的人，又當如何呢？

對那些把生命看做石頭, 將法律視為鑿子能在石頭上雕出自己形象的人又當如何呢？　

對憎惡舞者的瘸子，能怎樣 ？

對喜歡牛軛，甚至把林中麋鹿視為迷途者和流浪的牛崽們，又能怎樣呢？

對年邁卻無力蛻皮的老蛇，卻把自己以外赤裸的人都認作不知羞恥， 又該如何呢 ？

對早赴婚宴、飽餐離去卻聲稱 "一切筵席都是對法律的褻瀆、所有賓客都是罪犯"的人，該如何呢？　

對於這等人，除了說他們站在太陽下卻背對太陽之外，我還能說什麼呢？

　他們只看到自己的影子，這影子就是他們的法律。

　對他們來說，太陽除了投影者外還能是什麼呢？

　莫非承認法律只不過是彎著腰跟著找尋自己在地上的影子？

　倘若你們面向太陽行走，投射在大地上的陰影能將你們羈絆嗎？

　倘若你們乘風而行，什麼樣的風向標能為你們指示方向？

　倘若你們不在任何的囚門上砸碎自己的枷鎖，還有什麼樣的律法能將你們束縛呢？

　倘若你們縱情狂歡而不觸碰任何人的鎖鍊，又有什麼法律會令你們害怕呢？

　倘若你們扯下衣衫，卻不把它丟在其他人的路上，誰又能把你們帶上法庭呢？

　奧法利斯城的人們啊，你們可以掩蓋鼓聲，鬆開琴弦，

    但誰又能夠下令禁止雲雀歌唱？

[darkmaga-returns]

Trump tariffs live updates. Bank Accounts still being frozen in Canada. The Future of Europe. Trump: I'll solve the problem of Iran. Islamic Conquest in Texas. The “Monster Earthquake” in SoCal

Lioness of Judah Ministry

Apr 15, 2025

Trump tariffs live updates: Possible tech, auto exemptions in focus as Trump team sows confusion

President Trump maintained that tariffs will soon hit phones, computers, and major consumer tech products, as investor focus turns to products and companies that could garner at least temporary exemptions.

Trump and his top advisers sowed confusion this weekend, when it was revealed that the US had excluded smartphones, computers, and other consumer electronics from tariffs. But Trump said in a lengthy Sunday post on social media that there was "no exception" for those products. "We are taking a look at Semiconductors and the WHOLE ELECTRONICS SUPPLY CHAIN in the upcoming National Security Tariff Investigations," he said.

Mizuho: "Pretty High" Confidence Data Will Show China Dumping US Treasuries

"There’s clearly some sort of smoothing going on in the FX market, and to do that a central bank has to sell the US Treasuries and others to fund that FX intervention"

Now that even the shoeshine boy is speculating whether China is selling its US treasuries (to kill three birds with one stone: i) hammer the dollar, ii) push yields higher and iii) prop up the yuan, if only to give the impression that China is winning the trade war something we described here), Mizuho has a “pretty high” degree of confidence that data will eventually show if China has been selling US Treasuries, according to Jordan Rochester, EMEA head of FICC strategy at the bank. “Annoyingly we don’t get the data quickly enough, the data’s always lagged,” Rochester said on Monday in an interview with Bloomberg TV when asked if the Chinese have been selling US debt.

China Limits Stock Sales To Maintain Impression Of Stability, As Bessent Hints At Boosting Treasury Buybacks If Fed Does Nothing

If the Fed won't do anything, the Treasury will take matters into its own hands...

Last week we explained how the escalating trade war between the US and China has gradually transformed into a theatrical war of who has the upper hand on any given day. And since it takes a long time for trade obstructions to hit the underlying economy, investors are keenly eyeing the stock, and especially FX, markets for any and every (early) indications of who has the upper hand (even if they are, as we show below, completely false).

Trump Tariffs Spur NVIDIA to Manufacture AI Supercomputers ‘Entirely in the U.S.’

NVIDIA is bringing the production of its artificial intelligence (AI) supercomputers and Blackwell chips to the United States, spurred by President Donald J. Trump’s tariff policies that incentivize domestic manufacturing.

The company has partnered with TSMC, Foxconn, Wistron, Amkor, and SPIL, securing over a million square feet of manufacturing space in Arizona and Texas to build and test these advanced technologies. In Arizona, TSMC’s Phoenix plants have begun producing NVIDIA Blackwell chips, while Foxconn in Houston and Wistron in Dallas are constructing supercomputer manufacturing facilities. Mass production is slated to scale up within the next 12-15 months. NVIDIA anticipates producing up to half a trillion dollars of AI infrastructure in the U.S. over the next four years, creating hundreds of thousands of jobs and driving trillions in economic growth.

[toadeyes-miqote]

Miqo'te are and Miqo'te do

Would Hrothgals come and fantasia over you? Or wiggle your ears and tail, a Miqo’te stay? When you’re Gridanian, Archer and Adder There are more females, fuzzy memory this be based Same thing with MenMiq, some are post-EW interactions When this become a Jellicle song?

Looking back before Dawntrail hits. Is long with a mix of timeline, post-EW and NG+ pics. If you don’t see them, either I don’t have pics or hadn’t met/unlock them or forgot.

Event Miqo'te and the four/five(?) Miq'ttens are left out of this. Miq'tten would get their own piece for lols.

ARR

Most if not all the Miqo'te women are belong to ARR and are in Gridania and Limsa. Does Ul'Dah see them as being closer to beasts? What about Hrothgar?

A Realm Reborn

Leih Aliapoh was Hylnyan’s mentor and everything was Moon Miqo’te from here. There’s at least two more Miqo’te hanging around the guild. Her Archer quest is linked to Pawah Mujuuk of the Coeurlclaws

Miah Molkot, Took a bit of her lore for Hylnyan since they both from North Shrouds. Skirmishes with the birdmen and all. Do her quest line(Hostages of Fortune), she’s a birding cat like Hylnyan.

Do Delivery Moogle quest, The Past Is a Story We Never Tell is about the Lizeh sisters and Coeurl Claw women and the way they are treated. It triggers a Coeurl King fight (FATE not FATE?). I don’t have the Coeurlclaw women pics. Was still new and the notion of timelines diversion from Meteor (aka follow cinematic jobs) and duty trust addon accidental gaslighting hadn’t hit me yet.

Una Tayuun and here I was thinking we might have a quest to get her memories back. Cat distribution system is active in the Scions company(technically two males and three female excluding Miqo'te WoL ).

Forgotten spring Miqo’te women and their skirmishes with the Amalj’aa and tied into Amalj’aa tribal with Loonh Gar.

I remember J’moldva from the Blacksmith questline (her of the groovy red shades). And then to see her pop up with Arevnvald and V’mah Tia, it be like squee after how J Tribe were name dropping her the whole time Hylnyan was questing around Ala Ghiri. Totally fine with Hellfire Phoenix senpai being DPS trust in Skallac trust run as she has Ala Mhigan ties as well.

If its not obvious enough I adore Commander Rhiki for no reason other than her design. And that she’s a Triple Triad buddy

Heavensward

In another life Hylnyan could had been Renda-Rae. I kinda end up thinking that she could Jehantel’s shard since her early glory days of the hunt mark seeking and losing her team sounded like him.

It will always be funny that Widargelt’s three main disciples and one antagonist are Miqo’te. The cat distribution system favours this man.

Mujih Mewrilah, Botany quest journalist despawned while her Ivalice sister remained in Kugane. The Raven journalists do be wearing uniforms like Events Miqo'te Kipih Jakkya. All Saints' Wake 2024 edition.

Q'yantaa of Tailfeathers questline I did because Hylnyan was suppose to eventually go to Idyllshire with her mate to start a new life pre ARR. And treating Tailfeathers as a rest stop to learn about their surroundings and offer their skills is a thing they would do.

Zhloe and the Custom Delivery crew are all in Metian Gear until further notice

Stormblood

M’naago and the M tribe folks/related FATEs. Something about how Hylnyan’s footprint in the Ala Mhigo regions was rather small and that most Miqo’te tribes and resistance folks are more aware of her military involvement than her WoLness (much notes about Hylnyan’s area of influence being region based later). While common folks sees her as just another hunting Miqo’te.

J'olhmym, J'olhmym, J'olhmym. M'zhet thinks you're the one for him~~~ Of tribal quest. Vaguely recall J tribe in FATEs / side quests and there were various NPCs namedropping J’moldva in the Ala Ghiri region. That one questline in MSQ involving an Garlean mayor/captain(Baut) of Ala Ghiri

Shadowbringers

Qeshi-Rae aka Hylnyan’s “twin”(looks and personality) was already wearing this hairstyle before Claudien. Facet of Gathering was a post EW followup quest series for me.

It felt like there were more male Mystel roles in ShB and I’m very likely forgetting Crystarium staff and Kholusians somehow

I have not unlock Dancer

Endwalker

Very likely forgetting Sharlayan folks in Labyrinthos (sorry Hamlet and Ragnarok crew) for not standing out somehow. Non Miqo’te NPCs seems to ping my radar more this expac

Bonus

Fray when you’re a Miqo’te too.

The nameless young lady in Haurchefant’s office seems to be one of the rare Miqo’te in snowy place. Unless there are more and I can’t find them

What do you mean Alliance Grand Melee Adder isn’t Tyoh Moui?

Only doing Miqo'te since Hylnyan Miqo'te.

[theinkedfoxsl]

was that questions post like an oc ask game but for you instead? i bet other people have asked questions but i want ALL OF THEM. bc i think u are so cool. please :3 n for 36: what is your very favorite time of day and why?

HHHHHHH

What is your nickname?

Len :3

When is your birthday?

I don't celebrate it! But I celebrate my name day on October 29th

What was your longest relationship?

5 years this June with Henrik :D

What is your favorite book?

Ripper by Stefan Petrucha. I was obsessed with it as a child

What is something you're insecure about?

Rn? My voice cracks. They're pretty bad with where I'm at on T and they embarrass me

5 Male celebrity crushes

Pedro Pascal, Joaquin Phoenix, Nic Cage, Ryan Gosling, and Hugh Jackman

5 Female celebrity crushes

Can I put Natalie Dormer for all of them? But her, Salma Hayek, Nicole Kidman, Jessica Alba, and Kesha!

What is your dream job?

I wanted to be a writer for a game company.

What do you consider your biggest accomplishment?

Landing Henrik- uhm but no, finishing the Ambros Twins. It meant a lot to me, and I put in a lot of work for it. Even if I don't go there anymore.

What is a fact about you that nobody would believe?

ALL OF MY WEIRD FACTS PEOPLE GO "that makes sense" SO IDK?? I'm afraid of the ocean?

What were your highs and lows for this last month?

Eugh,, the lady at the blood clinic has been really transphobic and ableist to me the last two times I've went and its really sucked. Today was particularly bad cause the barista and some random girls were also quite rude. But! I ordered my cane and I'm so so excited to get it! I also got a skin I wanted in Outlast Trials!

Where is somewhere you'd like to visit?

I wanna go back to Germany, it was so nice. But I want to visit Munich next time!

How do you de-stress?

Stressful video games :3

What are your favorite apps besides tumblr?

Discord! All my friends are in there.

Describe yourself in one sentence.

Exhausted and blunt but kind

What do you think makes you attractive?

My fierce determination to make things work even when I'm on a wire. The people I love, I love dearly. And they know that. I think its an attractive quality to have, to care so deeply about others.

What is something you're really good at?

Writing! I'm also really good at listening.

What is something you're really bad at?

ADVICE- I can listen but not give advice. I'm also fucking awful at soulslike games we've discovered (nobody is surprised)

A time that you told a lie.

Pretty much every day. I'm a compulsive liar, I'm working on it.

What's a totally random and useless fact that you know?

Some ladybugs can have no spots!

Who knows you the best?

Rowan or Henrik I think

What is your most prized possession?

My engagement ring.

What is your longest friendship?

MAX! I've known him since I was 16! Almost ten years yeesh

When did you first feel like an adult?

I still don't sometimes. But I'd just moved into my apartment on the lake to be closer to my job and I was sitting on this empty living room floor and I realised that I was well and truly alone. I wasn't a child at home anymore. I was alone and I was an adult.

Do you/ Have you played any sports?

I played volleyball, baseball, and I did track.

How are you feeling right now?

Like I said bad day, so I'm a bit sad. But I'm watching Max play Lies of P and I'm hanging with friends so hopefully better soon.

Are you an early bird or a night owl?

Night owl

Do you believe in love at first sight?

Chemical reaction at first sight lol

Favorite song lyrics right now?

"I'm blinded, how am I to find a path that's righteous?"

What does self care look like for you?

iced coffee and nap

Describe yourself with 3 singers.

Tonight Alive, Icon for Hire, Hollywood Undead

What makes you nervous?

everything

What’s a pet peeve you have?

CUTTING ME OFF CAUSE I WALK WEIRD GO AWAY

What will always make you cry?

Tadashi ):

What kind of first impression do you think you make on people?

Unpleasant. A lot of people don't like me. That's okay

what is your very favorite time of day and why?

3am! When I'm hanging out and its dark and things are quiet and I can just breathe

[alexracheltravel]

Day 6: A Full Day in Kyoto!

We decided to get breakfast in the hotel. At 2000¥, it felt like a splurge, but it actually equated to $15 and was filled with so much food. Some we recognized as part of a Japanese breakfast, such as rice and miso, salted salmon and mackerel, but others were surprising to see so early. We dined on sukiyaki and tempura at 9:00, and drank our fill of coffee.

This was our only full day in Kyoto so we had to make it count. First stop: the manga museum!

Highlights: an incredible library with thousands of titles in Japanese. An exhibit on early manga history. Infographic of how manga creators are paid. There was also a special exhibit on the cross between Taiwanese history and Japanese history, using manga as the crux. Some contemporary manga creators from Taiwan were featured, as well as a special historical exhibit on Osamu Tesla.

Speaking of Tezuka, do you recall his final creation, Phoenix? The manga museum featured this massive installation of the titular mythical bird. Photo taken with panorama

There were some live events going on at the museum, the first of which celebrated Taiwanese culture. There was a special “Bu Dai Xi” or “glove puppet” show! Although some of the narration was in Japanese, most of it was silent, portraying a Chinese story of Sun Wukong, the monkey king, a famous fable known better in Japanese as “Son Goku.” If you didn’t know, Goku from Dragon Ball shares many elements of the monkey king, China’s most famous folk character.

After the show, we were urged to come up by a Taiwanese-Japanese woman who spoke some English. She took our photos, and let us try on the puppets. They were made of felt and wood on the outside, and the inside had a hard shell, not much like a glove at all. “One minute,” the woman said to us. Then she returned with a camera and microphone and asked us to speak in English why we were here and what we knew about the puppets. It looks like we were interviewed for a Japanese or Taiwanese television program! Oh boy.

One of the draws of the manga museum was to get a portrait drawn by an art student who was training to make manga. We signed up for a 12:50 slot. DeDe was very nice, spoke a bunch of English, and we conversed in both English and our very basic Japanese, mostly discussing the manga we liked. We gushed over titles like Delicious in Dungeon, Princess Jellyfish, and Look Back. The picture came out great, and she even got our clothes jussssst right.

We ate lunch at a great soba spot only a few blocks from the museum. And get this: it’s over 500 years old, truly making it the oldest restaurant we ever ate at. Honke Owariya was its name and it had made soba for centuries, drawing water from an old well, dug beneath Kyoto. The noodles were firm and flavorful, and the sides, made of egg and rice, simmered in dashi (soup stock) were absolutely spectacular. We finished the meal with a small treat of “soba mochi” made with the same buckwheat used for the noodles. It was a great meal overall.

After we took the bus to the first temple of the day: Kinkakuji, also known as the Temple of the Golden Pavilion. Wonder why they named it that?

When we rode the bus, the announcements for each stop was in Japanese except for the obvious tourist stops. We found that humorous. The temple was crowded, full of tourists (Japanese and foreign), but for a good reason. The temple was immaculate and the garden was kept well. It felt cool to walk through a true zen Buddhist garden. When we approached the palace we stood in awe of this glowing golden structure that sat on the edge of the pond (and peep the phoenix on top. Could this be the symbolic creature of our trip?). Many people began taking pictures of a large tree behind the temple. It looked like a normal tree, but we later discovered that it was an ancient shogun’s “favorite” tree, whatever that means. We followed the path along the temple, turning to gaze at moss gardens and budding pines, looking out at Japanese maples with leaves outstretched beneath the cloud-covered sky.

Then, the temple path ended. We took an about face and took transit all the way down to another spiritual site: Fushimi Inari Taisha. This was a place Alex had visited years ago and was excited to visit again. It was quite crowded, with a lot of people walking up and down the steps. But eventually, we got past the crowds and saw nothing but rows upon rows of red gates. There are a thousand of these and as we climbed Mt. Inari, we stopped to look at the statues that represent Shinto deities, and gaze at the well-preserved structures. It took a little over an hour, but we climbed all the way to the top! Our reward: an ice cream. Alex got Sakura and Gillian got matcha.

It was our only night in Kyoto, and we wanted to treat ourselves, and what better to do that have some delicious hearty meals on a cool night like this? We made our way up to Kawaramachi, the riverside district, and popped into a restaurant that specialized in Shabu Shabu. The waiter heated up the pot, which had a fish already sitting in it - a flying fish to make dashi, and some soy milk, meant to tenderize the meat. Then he heated up the stock and showed us how to cook. We placed raw meat into the pot, one by one, and let it simmer for a minute or two. Then, we took some of the vegetables, like cabbage and spinach and tossed them in the broth, waving side to side, making the motion, Shabu-Shabu, hence the name! And the dish went well with a nice bottle of sake. It wasn’t as nice as the glasses we had the other day, but hit the spot. Plus, we finished the meal with a “shime” course of noodles and a special dipping sauce. It was a perfect meal that we couldn’t get at home.

After all that walking we took some time to relax in the baths once again. It really hit the spot. Were a little tired, so no conversation for now. Tomorrow we’re on a brand new adventure.

Ohtani Counter: 3

Ohtanis to date: 24