#jeeze it’s the end of August already?

[hitwiththetmnt]

Reni and AKSP Leo (both from cabin 9) are here to say goodbye!

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

Awww thanks for stopping by for some farewells!

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

Cabin #7 (7Wonders of the Turtleverse)

[jungle-angel]

His Little Doodlebug (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: There's a damn good reason you gave Amy the nickname "Doodlebug"

Rhett had always had a deep love-hate relationship with Wal Mart in the month of August. Usually you would go and take Amy on a little excursion by yourself while Rhett and Royal ran down to Tractor Supply to get parts for the neighbors' farming equipment, but ever since you had gotten pregnant, that task had fallen on Rhett while Wes, his best friend, had decided to help Royal.

Amy hurried off towards the clothing section, her little sandals flapping against the tiled floor with her little circus-clown ragdoll tucked under her arm. "Hey, slow down there Doodlebug," Rhett called after her.

Amy giggled, excited as ever as Rhett pushed the cart that already had a few extra garden things in it. He didn't really have much of an idea about what kinds of clothes would be the best fit for Amy, but he was damn sure gonna try.

It was a whole back and forth mess of texting you pictures of all the clothes he could find that hadn't already been cleared out, little pairs of shorts with the lace trim around the legs, pretty little gingham dresses in pink, blue, yellow, green, orange, purple and red, plenty of jeans and little sweaters that would serve her well in late fall and early winter. However, what you knew you couldn't get in the store, you'd make by hand which would include plenty of Irish knit sweaters for Amy and the new babies.

"Hey!" Rhett called playfully to Amy as she zoomed from one end of the aisle and back to him. "Don't you run from me Doodlebug."

Amy giggled again. "Can we get more clothes Daddy?"

"Not right now Doodlebug," Rhett told her. "We've still gotta go to the other place and get your other stuff for school."

"No we don't," Amy giggled.

"Yeah we do, you're goin into preschool at the hippie school where Momma teaches," Rhett told her.

Amy held onto her ragdoll with one hand and her other one gripping the beltloop of Rhett's jeans with her little fingers. As soon as the clothes and the plant stuff had been purchased, Rhett loaded Amy and the bags up into the truck to head for the next destination.

Back into the center of town he went with Amy in tow, to the little shop owned by Mrs. Newman, who in turn would be Amy's preschool teacher. You and Rhett absolutely loved her store and all the supplies she carried, the cozy building with its knotty pine floors, shelves full of yarn, brightly colored wools, stones, books, pastel colored cloth and a whole host of other things that the children at the school you taught at would need for the coming year.

Two boxes of block crayons, a little case of beeswax and a basket of wool later, Rhett finally had what he needed and even let Amy pick a few items for later. He thanked Mrs. Newman, promising that over the weekend he, Royal and Wes would be down to help her husband fix his horse trailer.

Home he went and finally pulled up the driveway just as the sun had begun to set. Wes's truck was no longer there, a sign that he had gone back over the hill to the reservation to bed down his own horses and cattle for the night, yet the porch light had remained on. Royal and Cecelia would most likely be sitting out in the porch rockers, Royal smoking a hand rolled cigar while Cecelia told him about everything that had happened in the day.

"Alright sweet pea, out," Rhett said, opening the truck door so Amy could get out.

Amy practically jumped out of the truck and ran for the house, yanking open the door as Rhett unloaded the truck and kicked off his shoes in the mudroom. The house smelled so good with the steaks just having been pulled off the grill along with the smells of white rice and green beans trailing it its wake.

"Oh jeez! Somebody's happy," Cecelia chuckled as Amy rushed to hug her.

"I was hoping the trip would tire her out," Rhett answered. "Hannah-Banana go to bed?"

"Nope," Cecelia answered. "She just ate, but I'll give her a bath in a few minutes."

"Thanks Ma," Rhett said, hugging his mother.

Cecelia took the clothing and supplies from him to put them away while he made Amy a plate full of steak, rice and green beans for her to eat before her bath.

Upstairs he went to his room, which had become your shared bedroom. Even though you were only five months along, you had already begun nesting, preparing the crib at the foot of the bed for the two little boys resting in your belly.

Rhett wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheek, his hands coming to rest on your swollen bump. "Boys give you any trouble?" he asked.

You hummed, delighted by the warm breath on your cheek. "Not really," you sighed.

You two were yanked from the moment by the sound of Amy running through the upstairs hall in nothing but her pink wrap towel. "Daddy, can I use Momma's bubble bath?"

You two laughed and shook your heads. "Give Momma a minute honey," you told her.

Amy zoomed back into the bathroom as the bathtub filled up. You grabbed the pink grapefruit bubble bath out of the medicine cabinet and poured a little bit of the slimy pink liquid in for her and watched it foam.

"Guess someone had a bad case of the zoomies tonight," you laughed.

"Yep," Rhett answered. "Guess that's why we call her 'Doodlebug'."

[linnetagain]

I have. Had a realization.

In-fic, it is Feb/March-ish of 2024. Gale is currently 29, Astarion is about to be 27. Hestia is seven-ish, and the baby was born when Gale was 21ish? Yes?

IRL, it is August 2024. I am currently 29. My sister is 27.

I am losing my mind.

I was a junior during the 2012 Olympics. Originally Astarion said that he was 14 when he skated to Golden, but that was when he thought his birthday was Jan 1, and skating season is usually finished by March, yeah??? So he would have be 13, little baby EIGHTH grader, teeny tiny child? Protect him????

And the Sebastian incident, he said he was 16, so that would have been some time in 2014, I’d only just graduated and was pretending to be A Real Adult, my sister was a tenth grader reading Julius Caesar and all that shiz, we were binge watching episodes of Pokémon on my chunky laptop like they were a line of crushed smarties on a coffee table and we had no nerve endings left in our sinuses.

Gale was 15 when he met Mystra, frickin 2010 or some shiz, I was still deeply uninterested in men as a concept at that point I’m ace but that’s beside the point so’s he, what were you thinking lady, I have a different sister who’s 8 years younger than me, when I was 22 the humans her size may as well have been INFANTS, who goes shopping for college boyfriends among incoming high school freshmen, you’re NASTY

Married at 19, okay maybe not so weird generally, that’s what my mom did, she’s fine, to each their own, but like that’s when I was heading into my first proper burnout, I was not a PERSON, absolute brick made of oatmeal, also I was still a TINY BABY, that was heckin ten years ago, heckin 2014, Astarion “falls” and Gale’s heckin legally bound to his heckin manager frick 2014 seriously who authorized this

Hestia would have been born some time in 2017, if she’s already 7 when the fic started in fall 2023, some time in March–September since we haven’t seen her birthday on screen yet, so absolute earliest she could have been conceived would have been like, June 2016, so Gale would have gotten the ultimatum in probably July or August, chest injury probably happened earlier that year, maybe March–Juneish if he spent a year retraining his voice and lungs and it overlapped with paternal leave post-Hessie, and Astarion asked “was that the year that—?” so his first baby probably died like, maybe mid-2015? That’s right when I got my heckin puppy. Gale’s son should be as old as my puppy dog. Jeez, Astarion escapes to law school right as Gale gets Metaphorically Orbed. Congrats Gale, you’re 20 and having the Worst Year Ever

Also, shoutout to Astarion for finishing law school in 3 years? Class of 2018? That seems so fast with like pre-law and stuff but I don’t know how the UK does it, also he’s a smart boy, GO, be FREE my son (sort of not really psych jk)

But also ugh living in a two-bed studio apartment for at least five years assuming they lived in student housing before that? How is your mind still intact

But just. Hessie. Born 2017. The year I started going into my SECOND major episode of burnout. Heck, do I know any seven year olds??? How old are my little cousins?? Heck, it would the ones who didn’t live very close, how big is a seven year old?????? My close friends have a six year old, but she’s usually doing her own thing when I hang out with them so I usually visualize her as so much smaller, I think I might be literally incapable of comprehending having spawned a tiny growing human and having them in close proximity to myself since 2017

Congrats, you’ve broken me

Yeah don't be fooled by Gale talking about how old he feels, they're both SO young and so much of the shit that they've gone through happened to them when they were literally children. Astarion was thirteen when he won gold, Gale was fifteen when he met Mystra. It's one of the reasons why that brief mention of Romeo and Juliet is so loaded, because Astarion is looking back and remembering how it felt like his whole world was defined by this one thing when he was that age, and how much has changed since then. How much more he's had the chance to be, and how he was so close to losing the chance at that. Also one of the reasons why it's so easy to write him being protective of Hestia. He can see Gale trying to give her a better childhood than either of them had and he's absolutely going to try and help.

[rcubens]

☞ Wakeup Dead Man 🕑 DAY -2 — AUGUST 31st, WEDNESDAY ☏ @woodrowhub

Everyone got antsy around their birthday, getting older, inescapable change. Especially when it was a milestone birthday. Your first, entering the double digits, being able to buy cigarettes and lottery tickets— then alcohol. Then there was 30. It felt like the official end of adolescence, from eighteen to twenty-three, every year that ticked over was more and more definitive. He paid taxes and rent, bought his own groceries, and spent his disposable income on stupid things without fear of judgement. He was, for all intents and purposes, an adult.

Though, the looming number up ahead gave him pause. He still lived in the same apartment he did at twenty-three, he owned two sets of dishes— and bought paper plates every now and again when washing the dishes felt like an insurmountable challenge. He had one of each utensil, Chinese takeout at the back of his fridge from last Christmas, and didn’t own a dining room table. His only friends were his old college roommates who now sent him holiday cards of their wives and babies and sun soaked holidays. His last serious relationship was a three week stint in middle school, and he had been a junior lobbyist for five years where his last, and only, promotion had been from assistant to his current position. His only assets were his apartment, the contents of his safe deposit box (which held mostly sentimental things from his late father) and, maybe the house in Virginia, but he wasn’t really sure because no one ever called him about it.

It felt a bit like Groundhog Day. Except it wasn’t a day, it was a year. Maybe even five. Nothing's changed, he looked the same as he did ten years ago barring some new permanent under eye fixtures and a disc in his back that tweaked every now and again. Shouldn’t he have done something by now? Traveled Europe, ran a marathon, wrote a book? Maybe those ideas were slightly grandiose but the point still stands. Even a promotion would feel metamorphic. The three guys he started with had all already surpassed him, one of which even left to lobby for Wall Street— which in evil lobbyist speak was practically Valhalla. Sure, comparison was the thief of joy but jeez, would somebody throw him a bone? He did the fancy prep school thing, the great college, he even had the last name! That used to mean something! It got him this far, but it was like the ride had run out of time and he needed to put in another quarter.

Realistically, the only person to point the blame at was himself but, Reuben had never done so before and wasn’t about to start now. So he needed to find someone else to blame, not needlessly— that served no purpose. Someone with even a semblance of responsibility for his current sorry state of affairs would do. He contemplated on the bus ride home, white wired headphones playing Nine Inch Nails. His mother? No, too easy and unrealistic— Reuben loved her dearly. For everything he wasn’t, he was still her little star. Never made to feel any less as she held him close. Plus, as a man, hating your mother was untoward. He rifts around for keys in his pocket as he stood at the front door of his apartment. What about his father? He lived in his shadow all his life, then was swallowed by it after his death. He resents him for never teaching him how to drive, or for never seeing him graduate. The man never taught him how to tie a tie, or change a tire, or how to be the most charming motherfucker in a room and grease palms with the best of them. Those were the things he needed, the sort of advice you got from a patriarch on his back deck with a cigar and a whiskey. Instead, he got shipped eight hours upstate and fielded whispers in the hallways and insane conspiracy theorists who saw no qualms in approaching a child. Realistically, a therapist might tell him that having a chat with a gravestone in Macon, Georgia would be cathartic. Right now, he wanted a target.

A Budweiser is opened on the edge of the counter. It sends a metal bottle cap clinking across his kitchen floor. He shuffles around the apartment, a mix of anger and resentment simmers within him. There was only one other person he could channel this frustration towards. He’d spent so long silently resenting Richard, it felt almost a given. Everyone, nearly everyone, who came into Woodrow went through a phase like that. Though they eventually grew out of it, growth and accountability were things Reuben sorely lacked. He had never received an apt apology or restitution for what happened to him. Though his first couple of days at Woodrow were not the axiom of the issue, they certainly didn’t help. It was a pre-existing condition that was only stoked along at Woodrow. He never fit in, then the world he once knew ceased to exist and with the chance for tabula rasa, nothing changed. He was still fundamentally the same kid. Awkward, overlooked and forgotten. Though it may not be the axiom, it was a memory that hurt deep enough to cause tears to well. He allows himself the luxury of painful reminiscence so long as there is still beer in his bottle. Then he will compartmentalize and store those wretched memories in a shoebox in a closet of his mind. To be dusted off the next time he wishes to be reminded of his lonesome.

The next morning he is called in to his boss’ office. A not uncommon occurrence but, it catches him off Guard none the less.

“Sharpe, you can have a seat—” a heavy sigh of a man who’s out of options accompanies the request. “Thank you, sir.” “I need someone to meet with Imperial in New York and Watts is in London with BAT and Evans is off on vacation, I’d send quite literally anyone else, but there isn’t anyone else and you’re my last junior so…I guess you’re representing us in New York.”

Almost reluctantly, two boarding passes are slid across the mahogany. Reuben stares down at the offer in awe. He’d been away on business before but more so as a lackey. Never given the reigns. There are a few too many beats of silence in which his boss sorely regrets bringing up the whole ideal. He might just be better off having the meeting notes and documents faxed to the office.

“I’d be happy to, sir.” His hand lands atop the passes and shuffles them over to his side of the desk with some resistance. “Sharpe, these talks are important okay—” Not entirely true, but he’d tell Reuben these were nuclear armament talks if it meant assuring he’d actually get the job done. “I need you in there, representing us well,” “Have I ever failed to do that before?” “Do you want an honest answer?” “No, sir.” “Then I’d get out of my office and on the way to Reagan, your flight leaves in three hours.” “Yessir.”

With that, he headed home to pack a suitcase. It was as though the universe delivered him the opportunity on a silver platter. Comped travel, comped accommodation, no travel points— darn, and an excuse to visit Woodrow for once. He rarely if ever thought about returning unless explicitly asked. He was hardly ever asked. Just an occasional quarterly digest slipped into his mailbox of all the children they’d helped and how their work impacted the community. He wondered if he was supposed to be donating.

He took a cab, opting not to trust public transport on such a time-sensitive matter. The security line snaked, and he felt an immense level of scrutiny from the TSA guards before navigating to the business class lounge to not only look the part but feel it too. Stuffing mini muffins and bread rolls into his pockets for later. He wasn’t very fond of flying, it felt more akin to a game of chance than a practiced science. However, the attendants in their little blazers certainly eased tensions. LaGuardia is a mess of corridors, other disgruntled business passengers, and small children to trip over if not paying attention. Another taxi is written off as a travel expense, and he checks in at a Manhattan hotel he isn’t entirely sure the company could afford. It was growing more evident by the second that he wasn’t supposed to be the one on this trip.

There wasn’t even time to settle into the room before the start of the meeting. He just left his suitcase and headed back out with a messenger bag that had a pad of paper and maybe a pen if he was lucky. Despite the windows of the cab being rolled all the way up, it was as though the city’s volume was turned up to eleven. So many concurrent people, sounds and smells too. Even just standing on the corner felt like it drained him off all his energy. A tall glimmering office tower awaited him. Marble floors and packed elevators. He wondered how these people did it. Where they hid at the end of the day after passing about 10 000 people on the street. If being invisible in a city of seven million ever felt challenging. Though, he doubted the men in blocky charcoal grey suits and women in pencil skirts thought about things of that nature so intently.

The meeting was by all accounts boring. He sat in the far corner against the wall and listened to c-suites regurgitate information someone six floors down had spent months gathering then took another team a few weeks of rewording to sound strong and definite. He had gotten distracted by the view from the conference room windows. He looked north and wondered how far north he could see. Somewhere out there was his childhood home. As they moved onto upcoming legislation they heard was coming down the pipeline, Reuben had decided he would make the drive. Two and a half hours was manageable with a couple gas station stops for soda, Airheads and Jolly Ranchers. Then he’d drive back and see if Dante was on any fight cards, go to sleep and head back to D.C. the next morning.

Something like two hours later, though it felt like nine— they were finally set free. Coming up with an excuse to ditch the power luncheon and find a map with the location of a car rental place near enough to the edge of the island. There were some papers signed, license inspected and exchanging of a credit card before he was saddled with a new car for the next 24 hours. He white knuckles it out of the metro area, only relaxing slightly when it’s just him, the highway and a top 40 pop station. It is the second gas stop when the bends start growing increasingly familiar, and the friendly stop in starts to feel like an opportunity for the internal conflict he was dealing with yesterday to wage on. The things he could no longer vocalize to his birth parents had the opportunity to be heard and digested at Woodrow house, for better or for worse.

113568 is the code punched in at the gate not waiting for Beau to let him in. The conviction he had was a sort of now or never thing he wanted to take advantage of while it lasted. He parks and slams the car door with a ferocity he wasn’t even expecting himself to possess. As he pushes open the grand front doors, he is greeted by the entry hall and suddenly feels very small again. He stands in its vastness, chest rising and falling. There’s a faint sound of activity, which is both odd and comforting. He almost thought the place would freeze once they left. Preserved in a glass jar to be revisited when the embrace of childhood could be deemed comforting.

Without him telling them to, his feet take him to the sunroom first. There’s a smell of potted soil and leafy green in the air though it is empty. The early afternoon sun shone in making the air thick. It had at one time been one of his favourite room in the house though that memory can’t even prevail through the red mist. He’d try the library next, almost prolonging the inevitable. If he wasn’t in the sunroom, then he wouldn’t be reading in the library. He checks anyways, opening the door with a creak. It, too, had not changed. How was expected to be an adult here? He had always been a child within the confines of its walls. Like immaturity permeated the foundation and shot straight up through his legs.

Like lead, or if his shoes had been filled with cement— he begrudgingly drags himself up to the second floor. There’s an office door at the end of the hall that is ajar and whatever confidence he once had has disappeared like grains of sand through his fingers. His ears are already hot, but there’s a courtesy knock before he opens the door.

“Richard?” Hearing his name, Richard looks up from the catering contract he's reviewing for the upcoming gala. "Reuben?" His brows knit together in confusion, but a tentative smile tugs at his lips. "This is a surprise. You should have given us a heads-up. I'd have asked Mrs. Tristan to whip up something for you." He stands awkwardly in the doorway, hands dug deep in the pockets of his slacks. “There’s no need, I’m in the city for work. I can’t stay so, I just wanted to stop in for a minute,” “Then what brings you here, shouldn’t you be preoccupied with work?” Though his tone is light it’s the exact sort of thing the strike a very fragile part of Reuben’s ego. “I mean I would be if I did anything of value ever—” he starts with a shrug. “But I don’t, which is confusing because I should be. I should at least be more than a junior lobbyist. I don’t want to own the whole damn company, but I want to do something. Be somebody. I did everything you told me, I did Woodrow, I did the prep school with kids whose parents own small micronations. I did the good college. I did what you asked of all of us, so why isn’t it working? Why am I the only one out of all of us that’s going nowhere? Some of them are building rockets to fucking Mars or working with multi-millionaires, or running around on Broadway or writing the things that are turned into award-winning stage plays. Natalia is galavanting around Paris making a bigger impact on culture through a god damn magazine than half the politicians out there, Celia helps fucked up people in some deep genuine way, and Naomi is a fucking Michelin star chef in a restaurant I’ll never even get the chance to step into. Some of them are doing the hard, important, political jobs that don’t make the front page headlines, while Dante’s handing someone’s ass to them in front of a live audience for a purse that is more than some people will make in their entire lifetimes. They’re all out there doing fucking great, accomplishing things, and what about me? Where was my guidance? When were you gonna’ notice if I was a chess prodigy or head delegate or fucking, anything. Everybody’s got their thing and I don’t even have you, I never did. What did I have to do to get your attention? Has it worked— will it ever?”

Towards the end of his diatribe, his voice cracks and betrays him. He didn’t want to cry. It felt like such a silly thing to cry about but, with nothing concrete, these were the sorts of things that he felt his entirety being revolved around. “You forgot me, like I meant nothing. Just another name on a list. I don’t think I can ever forgive you fort that. I’m not sure I want to.”

There’s a long silence, where Reuben can her the blood rushing in his ears. Everything he was wearing felt too tight, his palms held pins and needles. The tears that once threatened now leak over his cheeks. He’s a kid masquerading in front of the dad he wished loved him. He wished he’d say something. Anything. It didn’t even have to be sorry. The sadness is quickly replaced with anger the longer the silence.

“Fuck it, it’s fine.” He mutters as he turns to leave. “Reuben- I—” “What, you what?” He turns back for one final acknowledgment but still, nothing could be produced. With that, he left. Determined to never see Woodrow again. It was cathartic in a way. Validating. All this hurt he held inside, it wasn’t for nothing. Richard didn’t care. He couldn’t acknowledge the things he had done, let alone Reuben’s feelings surrounding them. The distinction between him and them had been clear. He was a tether cord trailing behind. His hands curled into tight fists and unfurled repeatedly. He willed himself not to hit anything in the house, leave a mark that he’d even lived in it at all.

He steps out into the courtyard and it takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust. It had took so much conviction to get here, to confront Richard. Only for the world to keep spinning, the birds chirping, the smell of fresh cut grass on the air. He had ultimately changed nothing. If he was a little less sane, or maybe more, he’d laugh. Double over with laughter. Because it was honestly hilarious to think he’d walk out of there feeling anything different.

Turning the engine over he turns in the driveway and starts back towards the highway. There’s no radio this time, opting for the sound of a wind flitting past his open windows. There’s an overwhelming feeling as though he’s made a mistake. A tightness in his chest that flows down to the rest of his body. As much as he wanted to sever ties, they were all he had. It was better to exist on the outside of something than be a part of nothing. Almost instinctively, he breaks into sobs. Loud, uncontrollable, childlike, can’t see the road sobs. He slows to a halt in the deserted shoulder. Blond curls fall over the steering wheel as he puts his forehead to the leather. He had to go back and apologize and, say it was all just one big misunderstanding. He needed them more than they needed him and for right now that was okay, for he was nothing without his neediness. He dries his eyes with the arm of his suit jacket and pulls a U-turn. He had not got more than 45 minutes down the road.

He could accept not being a favourite. He could maybe learn to love the hands-off-ness of their relationship. Perhaps if Richard was too involved it would’ve of been more detrimental than beneficial. Maybe he’d still be living here, without a job. Coddled by the comfort Woodrow afforded. He’s prepared to say I’m sorry, and thank you and I love you and I tried my best and you did too. He reaches the second floor landing and the door is exactly how he left it, wide open. A clear look directly into Richard’s office.

Except it wasn’t Richard. It wasn’t his office. It wasn’t even Woodrow. It was Virginia in 1989. Photos littered the walls— his dad’s naval tours, his mother with Mary-Beth and Adelia. Summer nights, holiday parties, the pair before he entered the picture. He walks slowly, as though approaching a mirage. Like if he moved too quickly the reality of the situation would appear to him. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. He could do the right thing for once. He couldn’t lose two people the exact same way. Time felt like a flat circle. He was in the past and present simultaneously. A gentle hand turns the slack face before him in his direction. He screams for Mrs. Tristan.

There’s a rush of people, EMTs, staff, and Reuben. He knows this feeling all to well. The sort of hollowness. The guilt could eat him whole. It had started in the soles of his feet. He follows behind the ambulance in the rented car. No radio, no wind. He turned left, while they turned right. He drove far and fast and hit Manhattan by the early evening. The allure of the hotel was gone. The sleek and luxe had turned into soulless and cold. He crawls onto the mattress and curls up to make himself small.

[meowzilla93]

you know, with all the lore drops im releasing into the wild, how about a bit of a draft, a conversation between Liz and August, about a certain Greyscale Gentleman

(collecting any and all teasing nicknames for this guy like its my reason to live)

L: So, how’s things going with Monsieur Monochrome over there?

Ears perked at the new moniker for the boy-next-door suitor, August turns from the wrap she was making to look at Liz, an eyebrow cocked in question,

A: Monsieur-Oh god, just how many of those do you have up your sleeve?

L: Questions? A few. Nicknames for your fancy suitor? Many. Too many to count.

August rolls her eyes at her older sister with a snort, returning to her job of making a halfway decent lunch for the hot day.

L: You still haven’t answered my question Aug.

A: Things have been good. We talk when he is leaving for the day to do his touristy stuff if I’m out there already, same at night. Texting is a bit irregular, but considering we are a stone throws away from each other, seems we tend to walk into each other a lot and talk that way. We haven’t had a ‘date’ as such yet, but we have spent a few nights together-

L: YOU WHAT?! ALREADY?

Making a show of clearing her ears from being deafened by Liz’s sudden outburst, August turns back to Liz,

A: Jeez Liz, not what I meant. I mean just hanging out. Watching the sunset, walking down the beach front, that sort of thing. And what do you mean ‘already’? It’s been a couple weeks! Couples out there barely give it a day; Already…

August turns back to muse over her food, mumbling over Liz’s comment.

L: Do you plan to?

A: Huh?

L: Oh, don’t act dense, you aren’t good at it. Do you plan to sleep with him?

A: Liz! I-I don’t see how that’s at all relevant!

L: So, you do?

A: That’s neither here nor there! I like him! I like hanging out with him and just being with him. But that doesn’t mean I’m doing it to get into his pants Liz!

L: I just want to make sure you know what you are doing. Things seem to be a bit more intense than usual considering how your relationships usually go.

August takes off her glasses before she rubs her eyes, exasperated at Liz,

A: Yes, I know what I’m doing. And yes, I will admit things are… different this time round.

L: Do you want to talk about it?

A: Would you accept it if I said no?

L: No.

A: Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Folding up her wrap, August cuts it in half before picking up one half, taking a bite before pointedly looking at Liz,

A: What exactly would you have me talk about?

L: Clearly your summertime black and white romance flick -shut up its funny. You said things are different, how?

A: Let’s see. Other than the fact that this relationship has a deadline before it even started? I don’t know how to explain it, Liz; Those previous relationships, I thought the butterflies would eventually build up, that those romantic feelings would develop along with the relationship, but that never happened. With him, all it took was spending a day with him and they’ve been there ever since. I’m giddy over the chance to talk to him, can’t get rid of the smile on my face when I’m with him. I want to hold onto him, or just touch him in some sort of way; It’s almost a need rather than a want. He can fluster me, which is a hard task in itself, but he does it flawlessly. I just… I’ve never felt what I feel with him.

L: You both agreed that it’s only a summertime fling right? What happens if these feelings develop further?

A: I’ll cross that bridge once I get to it. Though to be honest, nothing would change. He made it abundantly clear that romantically this all ends at the end of summer. I will have to accept it, considering I agreed to those terms before we started this.

L: So, the first time you are experiencing those giddy lovesick feelings in a relationship, and you are letting it runs its course at the detriment of your own feelings-

A: Liz, I am more than capable of navigating whatever this is, honest. Besides, nothing is stopping us from remaining friends. Sure, it might hurt when we finally end this, but all my previous relationships I’ve been able to have a more platonic relationship with them. What’s stopping us from doing the same this time?

L: I don’t think it’s going to be that simple this time August.

A: I’ll deal, Liz. This… To be quite honest I haven’t felt this happy in a long time. With everything happening, so much changing, I just want to be happy with him. Maybe I’m more invested in this than he is. So be it. But I’m happy. Think you can cut me some slack with this?

Liz takes August in, concerns slightly marring her features before exhaling deeply,

L: Fine, but only for now. But I expect to know exactly when and how your Black Parade Boyfriend starts to make advances on you, need to make sure you have the talk-

August laughs at Liz, chucking a towel at her face over the newest nickname,

A: Liz, he isn’t that bad! And honestly, I’m almost nineteen and already had sex. Think you are a bit late for that talk Big Sis.

Liz woefully puts a hand on her forehead,

L: Alas, my dearest younger sibling is growing so quickly! To already have had intercourse outside of wedlock, what is this world coming to,

August launches another towel at Liz, before the elder sibling chucks one back, starting a war in the kitchen of tea towels flying around and the sound of laughter filling the midday air.

[silvergomez]

House Of ashes : trip to the zoo 3

august 14 pm

joey: wow, So cool Seeing a snake From afar

eric: do you think it's cool? scares me

Joey: So you are afraid of snakes, Colonel?

Eric: I? Afraid of snakes? Of course not... They're so cute...

joey: Oh sure sure! I don't tell anyone that the colonel is afraid of snakes

Eric: WHAT? I already said that I- I..! Oh Okay I'm afraid of snakes

joey: This is indeed a surprise!

Eric: Uh?

*explosion sounds*

Eric: You heard that too, right?

Joey: This is becoming something natural, Hearing explosions, Being very honest with you Colonel

Eric: I know but we better go look

joey: there goes our day off

*in another corner*

Salim: wow this is getting out of hand

Dar : HAHAHAHA

Salim: Jeez He went crazy for good '-.-

*Another explosion*

Salim: My god, people, where is the technical team of this zoo?

*More screams*

Salim: oh my god, did someone die? I hope not

*on the other side*

Jason: but what the fuck?

Merwin: wow, this zoo is smoking

Rachel: you look like you're smoking

Merwin: Maybe...but of course not.

Nick: Guys where is Clarice?

Clarice: I am the New Queen!

Jason: WTF?

Clarice: I am the New Queen of Elephants

merwin: Didn't I say Does this place smoke?

Rachel: What is this Clarice?

Clarice: I'm not Clarice, I'm QUEEN CLARICE for you Human

Merwin: Funny why she turned into a vampire last time

Nick: It's not something anyone needs to remember right now.

Merwin: why don't we run?

*Another explosion*

Merwin: Yes? what's going on here? A war? For the love of God

Clarice: my animals are breaking the zoo, they need to be free

Clarice: They have to do this for the greater good.

Merwin: shit, Clarice You have to wake up! this madness is driving you crazy

Jason: Oh Jesus! Could it be that everyone has calmed down?

Clarice: How can you Human tell the Goddess Clarice to shut up?

Merwin: Goddess? I thought I was queen

Clarice: queen jobs weren't working out

Merwin: In this you will go bankrupt

*Merwin takes a stone and throws it at Clarice, making her fall off the elephant and faint*

Merwin: wow, it was like catching a pokemon except i killed someone instead

Rachel: Oh my god did you kill her?

Merwin: no i just passed her out

Nick: It can't end well....

*Elsewhere 😭*

Eric: What the hell happened here?

Joey: wow, it looks like a war field

Eric: We need to get out of here

Joey: Why?

Eric: I think we already know why ;-;

Joey: Let's find the others

Eric: yeah I hope they're still alive at least

Joey: oh yeah "staying alive" is the only thing that matters right now

Eric: Yes, where is Clarice?

Joey: AThe last time I saw her was In the elephant area

Joey: Then I heard an explosion

Eric: and you didn't say ??

Joey: Actually, I do not know

Eric: Anyway, we're just going to go after the others, come on *takes joey by the arm*

Joey: Hey! I can walk, you know?

Eric: We don't have time for that...

Continue 💖

[eddies-artofsuffering]

02:17am, August 18, 1984 (Santa Monica - California)

An agitated voice, and a tap on his shoulder. “Eddie, Max. Wake up. We have to go.”

Eddie peeps an eye open. It hasn’t been long since he fell asleep, he can tell from the way his body aches for more sleep. It’s still dark outside, and he can barely see the raindrops trickling down the window. The air conditioner hums faintly over the bustling noise of his parents rifling through the room. In the bed next to his, Max stirs and rubs her eyes with a soft what the hell, her long red hair strewn all over the pillow.

“Come on, kids, up, up! We have no time,” Susan taps them harder. “Can’t afford to dilly-dally.”

Fucking hell. Eddie scoffs a little under his breath – Susan never used the word dilly-dally unironically. It’s kind of funny. But the electronic clock on the side table says 2:17, truly an ass-o’clock. Eddie scowls.

“I thought the checkout isn’t until 11?”

“We are leaving right now,” George orders as he frantically shoves various items in his suitcase, chips and hundred-dollar bills flying around. His voice is gruff. “Pack your things.”

“Never bothered to unpack,” Eddie mumbles. A force of habit, really. He gets out of bed at last, groggy and tired from swimming and surfing the day before. Now that he’s more awake, he realizes that he really needs to take a leak.

“What part of right now don’t you understand?!” George bellows, making Eddie flinch.

“Jeez, dad, I’ve already packed! I just have to use the bathroom and we’re out of here, okay?! God-“

He’s shoved against the nearest wall by the collar before he registers that he’s made the mistake of talking back.

“I will only say this one more time,” George snarls, and there’s a dangerous twist on his lips that almost looks like a smile. “If we’re not out of here within the minute, this is it for us. We might actually not make it this time.”

Eddie has to bite down the urge to roll his eyes. He always pulls this dramatic shit like it’s the end of the fucking world if Eddie doesn’t listen, like something terrible might just happen if he doesn’t obey. He’s never dared to find out what the consequences might be.

“Yea, okay,” he chokes.

“Yes, sir,” George beckons. Honestly, didn’t he just say they are in a hurry? Jesus. But it’s not worth the trouble, not at a moment like this, so Eddie does answer him, “Yes, sir,” and massages his neck when George lets him go. Fuck.

“Maxine, get dressed,” Susan says without glancing, busy collecting whatever shit that’s scattered around the hotel room. “You heard your father. We’re leaving in a minute, and I really do mean a minute.”

He’s not my father, Max mutters under her breath, only loud enough that Eddie can hear, but the fact that she didn’t accost her for saying her full name instead of Max is telling, her movement swift as she takes a few items of clothing and goes into the bathroom to change.

Damn it. Now Eddie’s gotta wait until she comes out to use the goddamn bathroom.

He looks around the room to see if there’s anything else he needs to grab before going, although he knows already that he can absolutely just walk out the door right now. He's been ready. He’s always ready to leave anywhere, anytime. That’s the way he’s always lived. That his family’s always lived, always ready to disappear at a moment’s notice if the situation requires it.

Once Max exits and Eddie relieves himself at last, their parents are already at the door, peeking out to observe the hallway. Eddie spots a stray ball of cash at the foot of the bed and pockets it hurriedly, and joins Max to stand behind George and Susan.

“Why do we have to sneak out? Again?” Max asks.

“It’s clear,” George says, as if that answers her question. He pokes his head out the door and looks both ways like he’s about to cross the goddamn street, and runs to the elevator. The little screen on top lights up from the tenth floor with an upward arrow, but the number doesn't increase for quite some time.

“It’s not gonna be here any quicker, you know,” Eddie comments as George presses the down button repeatedly. There’s a crazed look on his father’s face. Eddie knows that George is now in a state in which he cannot really hear shit.

This isn’t anything new. Eddie was 10 when he learns what ‘gambling’ means. It’s some kind of game, his parents had told him, a game from which they can make money. A lot of money and, as Eddie would discover later, a shit ton of debt. For the last few years, they’ve even been pursued by people - scary kinds - who really want their money back, who’d do just about anything to get it back. And today, of all the goddamn days of the year, had to be one of those days. The run days. And to think that he’d spend another leisurely day at the beach for a change…

“If we’re sneaking out, shouldn’t we take the stairs or something?” Max suggests, and for a moment Eddie thinks that it’s a futile thing to ask shit like that at a time like this, and going down eighteen stories by the stairs doesn't sound all that fun, what with all the shit they're carrying. But Susan somehow picks it up and nods, grabbing George by his sleeve and hightails towards the exit that leads to the stairs. Eddie follows, tightening the strap of his overnight bag on his shoulder. Behind him, the elevator finally opens with a faint ding.

Then. A strange man’s voice. “Take another step, Munson, and see what happens,” and George freezes on the spot, his hand on the doorknob. Eddie turns around to see not one but two men in Hawaiian shirts and shorts, looking so casual and easy and nothing out of the ordinary, except they’re pointing guns at his family as if they’re holding out champagne glasses to toast. Instinctively, Susan and Eddie step in front of a trembling Max, whose grip on Eddie’s strap is tight enough for him to feel.

“You wouldn’t,” George breathes, and it sounds like a plea.

“Shut the fuck up, man, I’m so fucking tired of playing tag all over the goddamn state,” the man growls. “Never thought I’d find you here, though. Santa Monica? That’s high profile, Munson. It’s like you were asking to be found.”

“Please, it’s our son’s birthday,” Susan says weakly.

“Oh, shit, is it?!” The second man chuckles, breaking into a wide grin. It almost looks genuine when he says, “holy shit, that him right there? How old are you, kid? You don’t look a day over 16, sweetheart.”

“I’m 18, asshole,” Eddie spits, almost regretting it when George shoots him daggers.

“Aww, happy birthday, kid!” He rests a gunless hand over his heart. “Now you can join your parents to play, huh? Am I dreaming or are those bags full of cash? Hope you were about to deliver them yourself. You’re so behind it’s not even funny.”

“Take – take them all,” Susan offers, lowering the bags and suitcases in her hands. “Please. Our children –”

The man on the left shakes his head in annoyance. “Yea, yea, spare us. How much you got?”

“It’s enough,” George tells them, at the same time that Susan says, “fifty thousand, as we promised.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. What the fucking fuck. He knew that his parents were in trouble, that they were in debt, but -

“Yea, you see, I don’t think that was the deal. There’s this thing called, uh, interest?” The first man smirks. “You owe us at least a hundred k, my friends. Time to cough up.”

“And you’ll get it!“ George snaps. “Just give us some time – we’ll make it up, alright?”

“No, no, it’s all here, actually, we can – Eddie, honey, give them your bag,” Susan says, brushing Max’s hand away from Eddie's strap and taking the bag off his shoulder. Max recoils, grabbing onto Eddie’s arm instead.

“What – what are you doing? That’s my –“ Eddie starts to protest, but immediately clamps down when he sees the desperate look in Susan’s eyes. Just play along.

“So, including this one, it’s a hundred?” The man on the right asks, checking the weight of Eddie’s bag. “Mind if we count?”

The men withdraw the guns and deposit them behind their backs, leaning forward to open the zipper.

As Eddie holds his breath – it’s only a matter of time until they find out that his bag is full of junk – George springs towards the men with an animalistic howl, knocking both of them to the ground.

For a cruel second, Eddie almost thinks that they might have hope. That they might be able to get out of this. Maybe recall in the distant future as they sit around, celebrating another birthday of his, maybe over a drink or two, saying, remember that time we almost died in that casino hotel? To health and longevity!

Instead, he stands there, paralyzed, as the men get back on their feet to swing at George and restrain his arms. Really, it’s like in the movies, when everything slows down, and time slows down – or is it more like in a dream? – watching Susan surging forward to go after George. The only thing that grounds him to reality is Max’s death grip on his biceps.

For the mystery men – probably some kind of loan sharks, as Eddie’s rational mind supplies somewhere far in the back – time isn’t at all moving in slow motion. They are quick to get the guns back in their hands, one pointing at George and the other at Susan.

“Open them,” one of the men tells George as he pushes him towards the elevator.

With shaking hands, George opens one of the suitcases, the one that the entire family knows is the one that contains cash, and the men nod in satisfaction. Fuck, that is a lot of money -

“And the other one?”

“Please, just let him go,” Susan sobs as George takes a deep breath to unzip Eddie’s bag. Even from afar, Eddie can see the little glimpses of his cassette tapes and clothes between the zippers.

The two men look at each other, raising brows, then back at George. “Hmm. Seems like you still owe us a fuck ton.”

“Just give us some time-“

“Hey, hey, keep it down, will ya? You’re gonna wake everyone up.”

They press the down button of the elevator, which opens at once, like had been waiting for this moment all along. The men shove George inside with the cash bag.

“No, please!” Susan sobs, inching towards the elevator despite being within point-blank range.

“No, Suzie – go! Take the kids!” George’s yelp is muffled as the elevator closes, the sound of commotion escaping between the door.

“Let’s go, we have to go get him,” Susan whispers, and Eddie doesn’t know how the hell her legs are still functional, how she’s still able to run like that as she sprints towards where her children are. If she could do this, he should be able to - Eddie tries to snap out of it and follows Susan to the stairs, taking Max by her hand.

Somewhere not too close and not too far, there is a resounding crack, suspiciously like a gunshot. Eddie gasps, but he doesn’t look back, his body now on autopilot as he jumps two steps down at a time. He barely feels Max’s hand slipping away from his.

continue reading on ao3

[pqrachel]

So I was gonna wait until the new year to choose my game of the year, but not only did the steam review come out, but I realized that last year I chose a game that I got for Christmas 2021 so even if I somehow get a really cool game experience before the end of the year, I can just put that for my 2024 GOTY if its good.

But in that vein, I've added Monster Roadtrip & Neon White to games I'm considering for this year's GOTY. So my nominees are Monster Roadtrip, Neon White, Lil Gator Game, Celeste Strawberry Jam Mod Pack, Goodbye Volcano High, Our Life DLCs, and Marvel Snap.

---

So Monster Roadtrip, which I've been playing a lot throughout the year. Unlike most of the other games on the list it's really easy to come back to after not playing for a while. The End of the Road update which came out this year was phenomenal and that's the main reason I'm considering it for GOTY. But I really enjoy the Monster Prom series as a whole and it's just so fun and amazing.

Neon White, I got last year during the Steam Winter sale and I spent an amazing few months playing it and getting good at it and enjoying the crap out of the optimization and speedrunning. It makes it so easy to play and so easy to want to keep improving. It soundtrack is amazing and the community is great too. But it's just super hard to get back into. I tried it again this week and despite getting a couple of level records beaten so many of the levels just weren't fun to try and jump right back into at the level I was playing them when I quit. IDK it's definitely amazing but it's not obvious that it should or shouldn't be my GOTY.

Lil Gator Game is like super amazing and nearly perfect for what it is but its just so small, which isn't in itself a problem. But a bigger amazing game is gonna be better. I never went back to try and play it casually again and I think I got all I wanted out of speedrunning it. Like my only problem with it is that I wished it was a bit longer.

Celeste Strawberry Jam is a mod pack created not by the devs of Celeste but by the wonderful modding community of the game. It has levels that range in difficulty of super beginner friendly to fucking impossible, like jeez dude that's crazy. I played through so many levels and it was super enjoyable. It was enough for me to play and consistently enjoy myself for months.

My next nominee is Goodbye Volcano High. I've only played it through once but it was amazing. It's a game about music, found family, and the apocalypse. I got so engrossed in this game after I played it, and I just love it so much. It excelled at being a visual novel but it wasn't very game-y, the rhythm game elements weren't great, and the other game elements struggled too. It was buggy at the time I played it but it didn't detract too much from the story and meaning behind the game. It was just beautiful when it came together.

The Our Life DLCs really surprised me. I went it just expecting them to be worse than the Cove storyline because how could they live up to the amazing story that was the original Our Life Cove story. But they were amazing. I talked about them a lot as I played them but ultimately I just really love the stories GBPatch has put out and that's the reason Our Life 2 is my most anticipated game, even over Silksong and Hades 2. Again it's a visual novel so it's hard to put it as GOTY but I just have to at least consider it because of how good it was.

And my last nominee is Marvel Snap. It technically released last year but the PC launch was in August and I've been playing it so much since then, like it's already my second most played game on steam. It's a microtransaction heavy, season pass-having, daily quest bullshit monetization system game, but it's technically free-to-play. After a while I stopped paying money for stuff and started playing it free and I'm still really enjoying it. Getting the last key cards for some of the meta decks has been super fun. I've been playing Loki and Hela and Destroy and Zoo, and it's just great. The new weekly cache system is rewarding as well and I've nearly got a complete card list because of it. Just a fun time sink.

---

And my Game of the Year is Neon White, but like it's close. This was a cool year for gaming and even if I didn't play any of the mainstream choices for game of the year, it was still a super enjoyable year for gaming overall.

[thoughts-drabbles]

What a way to open episode 2. Also that guy was already dead before the bomb. Some kind of radiation poisoning or something.

I love Bones. Jack annoys me at the moment. Zack is amusing. Booth is kinda just there at the moment, hope he develops more soon.

Ahhhhhhh bugs. Why.

Brother looks like he has same condition as dead dude.

Seriously he had a normal illness. Not radiation poisoning. Lupus? It’s never lupus.

Angela is not gonna be here long.

She legit just has boxes of bones in her office.

He’s not the bomber. He’s the target of the bomber.

Whoops. Bad timing Bones. Angela was way off.

Yeah I’m with Booty. What you on about.

Told you. Now to find the true bomber and apologise to the wife. Nevermind she’s being bitchy. Damn Bones. Tell her how you really feel.

Booth! Where did that come from?!?

Wow Bones.

Angela and Booth are joint Bones annoyers.

Told you it wasn’t lupus.

Zack I love you.

Was she having an affair. Shit, one point to Booth.

There is more to this illness.

I WIN. It ain’t lupus.

Or you could do your job Angela.

What? Fricking homeland security.

Chill Booth. You are kinda angry. Bones. Stop bringing up the lawyer. Also stop bringing up the army stuff. Jeez.

Don’t kill his beetles. Aw Booth.

Well if it wasn’t the hs mole. The brother wouldn’t poison himself. Which means the only option is the wife.

Damn Bones. Why do people keep grabbing her. It ain’t gonna end well. Ok so hs mole wasn’t here until August which means it’s the brother or wife. Again brother wouldn’t poison himself.

Bones. I said stop bringing up Tessa.

Wait so the brother accidentally poisoned himself. You stupid you dumb. He made the poison and got caught by his brother and they fought. That’s how they both got poisoned.

Booth. You are police. Get off the phone while driving.

A peace conference. The irony.

Well damn. He’s dead. Good shot Booth.

Booth doesn’t want no more medals.

Stop mentioning Tessa. Jeez Bones.

Can’t believe they drag this will they won’t they out for 6 flipping seasons.

[liminevator]

[Interview log]

Topic: ID #0008's past prior to entering The Outer Bounds

Subjects involved: Prof. Radiant (Interviewer) and #0008 (Interviewee) (Note: Prof. Radiant's stutter has been written out of this transcription for ease of accessibility for readers)

[Begin log]

R: "Good morning Mr. CoLatta! How are you doing today?"

#0008: "Ehh I'm doin' fine, same old same old. How about you?"

R: "Oh!" [chuckles] "Yes, yes I'm doing quite alright as well."

R: "I'm sure you already understand the gist of this by now, I'm just going to ask you some simple questions and document your responses, these all should be very easy and you are free to respond in any way you wish so long as it is on topic, okay?"

[#0008 Nods in response]

R: "Alright! So, first question. Can you list off for me the five basics about yourself?"

(Authors Note: "the five basics" are name, age, birthday, gender, and origin, we ask this at the beginning of every interview as a safety precaution.)

#0008: "Yeah sure, my name is Tropicarl Coco-CoLatta, I was 18 years old when I lost track, my birthday is- was August 22nd, I was born a woman but no longer identify as one, and I was a Phonian citizen for my whole life."

R: "Mm yes, and what year were you born?"

#0008: "2006."

[Prof. Radiant pauses and looks at #0008 confused for a moment, before writing down its response]

R: "...Okay, and roughly when do you recall entering the Outer Bounds?"

#0008: "Ahh jeez... I wanna say it was around 20██? I'd been stuck at home for a long time by then so my memory is a bit fuzzy."

R: "Stuck at home? Did something happen, or was this by choice?"

#0008: "Eugh yeah no not my choice, there was some sorta huge virus outbreak so I got stuck all by myself at home with my roommate, I think it was called ██████████? And I mean I still went outside in my yard every now and then to get some sun but that was kinda it. One day I got ready to go do that but when I opened my door it just... wasn't my yard anymore, and that's how I'd ended up here."

R: "...Ah, I see. I'm sorry to hear that. Did- Did your entire house really slip through?"

#0008: "Yeah my house is still exactly the same as it was the day I got here, well, I mean ya'know what I mean. It's the same house, not a copy. Hell, Juggs didn't even know it'd happened since honk was dead asleep on the lazy boy through the whole thing."

R: "Wow, that's probably the smoothest transition we've heard about so far." [Chuckles]

R: "Since you just mentioned Juggalogo though... would you mind if I ask a few questions about honk as well?"

#0008: "Not at all Rads, hit me with it."

R: "Good, good. Now, did you ever happen to notice any strange metaphysical behaviors from honk during your time in reality? Like, had honk ever seemed particularly detached from the world in strange ways, or vanishing for long periods of time through impossible exits, things of that nature?"

#0008: "Hmm... Well, now that you mention it, honk did sometimes do stuff sorta like that? Like, honk would tell me that honk was headed out and then would just turn the corner and POOF! Not a trace, like honk was never there at all. Then a few hours or days later honk would just be there on the couch again, it was weird but I never asked about it."

[Prof. Radiant pauses for a moment failing to hide his disbelief, before clearing his throat and continuing]

R: "I... uhm, okay- do you... even know where Juggalogo came from? At all?"

#0008: "Nope, not at all, I met honk in a Taco Ball parking lot, got honk and I each one'a those beefy 5-layer burritos to be nice and we split an edible and we've been friends ever since."

R: "Do you know... what Juggalogo is?"

#0008: "Isn't honk just another monster? I dunno I've only read a few of those denizen files Eskobar wrote up"

R: "Okay... backtracking now. Are you aware of the planet J-Sibler?"

#0008: "Yeah, that little tennis ball looking one just past the suns right?"

R: "Yes correct, and good to hear there were two suns for you as well. Were you aware of any alien life present on that planet?"

#0008: "Well I mean I was always one of those people who had their theories, but nothing was 'scientifically' confirmed or whatever."

R: "...Ah. Have you... ever met any aliens- hey, don't smirk at me like that, you know Ick doesn't count."

#0008: "Eheh, yeah no never had until I got here, to my knowledge anyway."

R: "Seriously??- I- sorry, okay. Backtracking further, how many continents were there?"

#0008: "Six."

R: "What color was the atmosphere?"

#0008: "It was... blue?"

R: "Do you recognize what this is?"

[Radiant, getting increasingly stressed, proceeds to hold up a photograph of himself next to a typical Phonian cargo ship, something every citizen on the surface has seen at least once]

#0008: "Is that you next to some huge spaceship?? Where the hell did that come from, were you in a movie or something? I would've thought you were way too dorky for tha-"

[Radiant ditches the photo and grabs #0008 by the shoulders]

R: "WHAT HAPPENED IN PHONIAN HISTORY ON DECEMBER 31ST 1999 THROUGH TO JANUARY 1ST??"

#0008: "I DONT KNOW DUDE- A BOMB ASS NEW YEARS PARTY??"

[Radiant lets go and pauses to breathe for a minute and lets off some visible electricity into the air around him to calm down, causing a slight audio distortion for a few seconds]

R: "I- sorry- I apologize for yelling, I need to... go call Dr. Kusatta, you are free to go Tropicarl."

[#0008, visibly shaken from the outburst, silently nods and leaves the room. Followed soon after by Prof. Radiant.]

[End Log]

[seasideretreat]

A priest among men

It seems there is more to life than making money and drinking a lot or conquering the world, although in today's world, obviously, taking on climate change is an important new goal - although it's really quite plain to see, that this has always been there is some form; take the ancient druids for example, weren't they already quite obsessed with living in harmony with nature? Be that as it may, we can live well and do our best somehow, even though there ain't no escape from the horrors of life: the best life is one of simplicity and avoiding the trappings of modernity; but I ain't no traditionalist, I simply believe in the happy things in life, that come down to terrific ways of life that have no bearing on anything in particular: it seems people don't do anything right, and we are destroying ourselves; but we can live in harmony with nature, perhaps, or think deeply and improve society that way: I mean, war has never done anyone any good, but progress has made use of war, even as technology never stood still and mechanical science undermined the very validity of being small and satisfied. I wouldn't say the philosophical life is holy by a long shot, but it seems we can't separate the logic of philosophy from the revelations of religion. We must give the right example, or something, and be prepared to give meaning to wretched people's lives; and everybody is wretched in fact, what matters is that we love each other and elevate ourselves up from mere animals looking for sex to august sages that wish only the best for everybody.

I am having an all right day. I take medications and they make me anhedonic, but I find must strength in history and especially in English history. What is English history? Maybe it starts in ancient Greece, in the East, with the powerful attitude of Alexander the Great: I have always been very intrigued by this figure. But in the end, it seems the English have learned the lessons of Marcus Aurelius and Cicero and have become the embodiment of stoicism: the stiff upper lip is truly a source of strength for me, even though the English may be assholes. That's what my father said, and I liked my father a lot. I read Dutch history, you know, I love my people, but I am an Englishman, I practice stoicism; although I am also a warrior, perhaps: I emulate Alexander the Great, you see, since life is so terrific sometimes when things just happen all the time and time is just passing slowly or very fast; and I can't do anything to improve the situation - jeez, am I glad my mother is still alive! But I believe in stoicism, although it is not an identity, I believe this is the nature of a proper upbringing, perhaps: that we keep this mentality of the English person in mind all the time, when things are bad - you see, it can be very hard to find your center in the horrors of daily life; when you can't find the patience to sit through a movie, or read a book, it seems the best thing to do is straighten one's back and control one's emotions: to stand tall against all the horrors, to keep a stiff upper lip: I don't know. The fact of the matter is that I grow schizophrenic on the constancy of history, and I have to somehow free my mind from worries and doubts; but I don't want to keep philosophizing all day; and in the end, that ain't so useful in the end. So I read history: it's not very romantic, but it nourishes me, and gives me things to do; just the other day I was inspired to play chess because of history; and I will continue to play chess, I think: I am not too bad at it I think, and it is relaxing; but sometimes when I am totally anhedonic I don't really find it all that relaxing and I can't stop my mind from being in despair, and I just start pacing around the room and I waste so much time: it's misery. However, even when I am heavily medicated I find worth in little things: the Fellowship tune from The Lord of the Rings; a conversation with one of the nurses; a conversation with my mother. Unfortunately, I don't really enjoy bread all that much, but my mother and her boyfriend cook really good food so I am quite lucky.

As I say I am having an all right day, and I have it all to thank to history. Historia est magistra vitae. I watched some of a Let's Play series by Grohlvana, and I think that's all right; I scrolled around a bit on Twitter and Tumblr and Reddit and yeah, that's always a clever way to pass the time; and now I am writing this, which is great, because I am philosophizing. Why write, you wonder? Why not just sit in a chair and think? Because writing is an art, and thinking to oneself is not as creative. I like to post things on the internet because people can find it there if they are interested. Of course, I don't write things that everybody ought to read, but I write things that inspire thought and that makes me happy. If someone were to find my account they would be pacified and educated, and that is just an awfully glorious thing: writing is a beautiful pastime, but also just one of the best things we can do; I love being creative and thinking about what to write, and I love philosophy; of course, you will say, it's just a bunch of words on paper, but sometimes when I start writing I hit on something that just makes me think all day what the purpose of that is; and the great fact is always that we really don't know that much: when it comes to the meaning of life for instance, there is really almost nothing to say about it, other than that we should live in accordance with nature; you know, and you will say that we have to know ourselves, and I agree there is little more graceful than self-knowledge in a person, but at the same time self-knowledge is something invisible, it doesn't cause any real changes: it seems we are just wallowing in self-knowledge all the time and well, Goethe said there was something magical about it, like it was something uttered by priests to mystify the people. Thinking along those lines, it seems Chilo of Sparta was the quintessential thinker of the priesthood. The leaders of Sparta were basically priests any case, even though he was one of the sages of ancient Greece and said things that are useful for anybody. But that's what Schopenhauer said, that the priests see men in their entire stupidity, and I really don't think we can say that secularization has been an engine of progress. Look at the Amish: if we'd all lived like the Amish, time wouldn't have been running out for the planet right now. Still, my father died young and I am not sure if the death of civilization is really all that bad, I mean, the world's gonna end sooner or later, and we've all experienced happiness. Still, it might be good if we saved the planet, it might not be good: I mean, people can't do without terrible engines, just like they can't do without smoking and it seems life is going to end one way or the other, right? I mean, we've had 2000 years of happiness, I think we can say that, I mean I really think Christianity made the people happy, it made me happy and I am not even a Christian, just like Bertrand Russell.

Religion is something altogether un-English, you know, but I see that in The Netherlands religion was never really religious. I don't know. Anyway, I feel really good and I have it all to thank to that English mentality. I got to it through Shakespeare. You know, I don't know if Shakespeare is necessarily a role-model in himself, but he definitely managed to capture the English spirit in his writings. I mean, yeah, we should search for ataraxia, and this is brought about by being free of fear, and so on; yet it seems we can also power through difficult moments this way, and be happier somehow, I don't know. When we emulate the English in some way, we become more in control of ourselves, it's really true. Happy things can happen. We can grow in strength, we can watch movies on YouTube: I can't think of a more enjoyable activity! And tomorrow, I have to go to work, and I will not be going crazy with thoughts all the time, because I can put on the stiff upper lip, and not get overpowered by emotions; and I know it is all caused by the medication, but at least I can survive this with a semblance of happiness; and I can be kind and helpful to my mother, who is a nice person; and I wish sometimes that the good times would never end, but of course they will... but we can be strong in the good times: in times of peace, prepare for war; we can be strong.

You know, with my dad I read Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse five, and it really united us, it brought us all together. You know, I've been to Dresden with my dad, we had a beer there at the local beer place, it was a local brew, and it was really nice; really, our trip to Dresden and Leipzig was really nice, even though I was still recovering from my psychosis. But yeah, the book itself was great because it was funny, and it was about time, and we all read it, and it was against war, and it was in Dresden and it was about the joys of mental health. You know, it didn't judge it or anything, it just incorporated it and yeah, it's funny how it goes with art: dad understood the wisdom of such books, and we confused kids just listened in rebellious bellicosity, wishing at all times to outsmart him, but he just wanted to impart a little bit of life's beauty on us.

[cutielatias]

finally we/I played true colors (i was owning this for a time, because we played this in August,and now it's already December😅💦) the text is some reactions and thoughts that I/we had while playing the game

"jeez,comparing alex to sean,sean actually sounds like a genuine nice person (she is a jerk😒) now i know why i liked/like sean (i will no longer complain about him,ha-ha😂,no, just kiddin,i will)"

"for someone with the power of "empathy"alex sounds more like a manipulator than an actual empathy person,she uses other's emotions to get what she wants/make they say what she wants,that feels wrong"

"what this game/franchise have against reserved people?!💢alex is so jerk with that diane,and i hate it!she so jerk with her💢(the woman is just keeping/doing her job😒)"

"i thought that alex was starting to become more likeable on ep3, but then i read her diary(diane's part)and the laptop part (at the ending)no,no, she still jerk😑"

"the cop looks like cody from "it takes two" haha😂,(diane is may😂😂😂)"

"i didn't understand nothing of alex past life/the old phone messages😕 (and by the way whata heck was that with that isaac guy!!?that was weird, was very obvious that the guy want something more with her, it's not possible that she couldn't read the guy's mind and sense that he wanted to hook up with her(I doubt that she can't sense lust💢)i mean, i think she kinda wanted too😒,but,idk why but the impression that i have of this situation is that alex and the guy were hooking up and in the middle of that, alex reads/feels the guy emotions during the s*x, and the thoughts were kinda wild (but in a red flag way)and that made her kinda uncomfortable,and she gets weird with the guy,and then she blocks him,ugh~😑,fuckin weird situation"

"almost faint when i saw that mexican letter (and not in a good way)i was worried that would be something do to with sean and daniel💦 and thank god that was not💨"

"the ending super coherent with us😂, were the olds that stayed on our side, me and ana have something that we always have more affinity with older people(and vice versa)"

"it even gives me a little feeling to look to this menu image, I remember the day that we finished the game, it was even a little melancholy to look/get out of the menu, I like the menu song, the music is nice✨(i like the instrumental/menu version more but the voice version is ok too) , and by the way no one gonna talk about the fact that the group that plays the song has a Portuguese name "novo amor"maybe cuz is nothin important😂😂😅 its just a name😅💦,but i find funny cuz this game seens to have a "big" brazillian fanbase so i thought someone would say something, but no, no one says nothin(i don't know if is the brazillian portuguese now thinking can be the portugal one) just an useless funny fact😅😂(at first a thought that "novo amor" was the song's name, but the songs name is haven, "novo amor" is the singer)"

"I didn't find true colors a copy of the others "life is stranges" like people were saying at the time(of course, that some of concepts are very similar from the preview ones😅,i do noticed that, but they did in a different way), for me it's kinda different from the others, it's not like the first or the second and neither to before the storm (which I thought was more likely because both were by decknine)"

"i thought that after i liked the second one if i played another game of the franchise, i would like it too(cuz i'll be honest i never really liked this franchise, i find the concept interesting, but i didn't like the characters very much) but after that I liked the second one, I thought that maybe I would't roll my eyes with the franchise anymore, but no, I roll my eyes with true colors as the same way as I roll with the others, it's reallys only the second one that I put up with/the one that has the spark, it's as if the feeling that I feel with this franchise always still the same, it's only the second one that I like/liked,like imagine that you are someone who doesn't like coffee, but one day you drink a certain coffee and you like it , and with that you think, now that I liked this coffee, maybe I don't have problem with coffee anymore, but no, you drink the other coffees and you still don't like it, it's just that one coffee that you like/liked(crazy example but its the only one that could think about it😅😅😅)"

[225s]

Sancho angst pls

supercut (jadon sancho)

I hope you like this one anon! I guess it's more just sad stuff than angst though, sorry <3

You're five years old when you fall in love with the curly haired boy from down the street.

You're not even sure what love is, really, you just know it's something special, a feeling that you won't have for everyone you'll ever meet. Your grandma had told you earlier that summer that she knew she was in love with your grandpa because she'd have sweaty palms and butterflies in her stomach whenever he'd look at her. You had frowned at her when she said this, thinking being in love must suck if it makes you feel like this, but she'd just laughed at you and told you that someday you would understand.

And that day comes by sooner than both of you would've guessed, on the last Saturday of summer break, the nervousness about starting year 1 coursing through your veins. You're sitting with your legs criss-cross on the curb in front of your apartment block, surrounded by colourful crayons as you concentrate on your artwork, doing a pretty good job at ignoring the excited screams of a bunch of boys playing football, until something hits you right in the head.

"Jeez, are you okay?"

There's a pair of hands on your shoulders helping you up from the warm concrete, warm brown eyes looking into yours with a hint of concern, only breaking eye contact once to glare at the group of giggling boys behind you. "Shut up, you idiots!"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you mumble, even though it feels like your brain is trying to break free from your skull and you kind of want to cry, but all those thought leave your head when his eyes find yours again, smile warmer than the August sun as he offers you his hand.

"Sorry for kicking a ball in your face," he grins, scratching the back of his neck. "Some lemonade to make up for it?"

You're seventeen when you learn that love doesn't always last forever, that it's a floating feeling that'll creep up to you every now and then before suddenly disappearing overnight. You probably should've known this already from the time your best friend had sobbed in your arms because her parents were getting a divorce, but you'd just figured they'd never really loved each other to begin with. And even though that might've been the case, you now know it also takes a lot of love to let someone go.

"So, this is it."

Truth is, it's been 'it' for a long time already, but it's easier to blame it on the 300 miles that'll soon be between you than on the distance that's already been there for the past couple of months, just like it's easier to claim you'll call, only to send a message when the other one's already asleep, saying you've been busy with school or training and that you'll talk tomorrow - an endless cycle of missed calls and copy-pasted excuses wearing you down.

"This is it," you breathe out, eyes fixed on your hands, tugging on a loose fingernail. You don't want to meet his gaze, because every single time you look into his eyes you let yourself believe you're still as in love with him as 12 years ago, starting to think of ways to fix something that's not necessarily broken, just not meant to be used anymore.

"I'm proud of you, you know that, right?"

"Thank you." Jadon can't remember how many people have said this to him the past few weeks, but you're the only person he wanted, needed, to hear this from. "I'm proud of you, too. I'm sorry I can't be there at your graduation."

You smile, nudge him with your elbow. "That's fine. Just don't forget about me when you're hanging out with Neymar and Messi in a couple of years."

"How could I?"

It's impossible to forget you. Everywhere he goes, Jadon thinks he catches a glimpse of you, until you turn around and end up being a stranger. Every time he scores a goal, he finds himself searching for you in the stands before it hits him that you haven't been to his games in ages, that the heart he makes with his fingers doesn't belong to you anymore.

"I really loved you, you know."

He still can't believe his eyes when he sees you sitting on his sofa, so close to him that he could take your hands in his if they weren't so clammy from the nerves.

You can't help but smile at his words, so genuine that it makes your heart ache a little. "I loved you too. Still do, sometimes," you admit, voice quiet.

A silence falls upon you two as you both wish you could choose your feelings, make them stay forever.

"It's weird how feelings can go away, but kind of remain at the same time, isn't it?" Jadon chuckles softly, barely even understanding his own words, but you know exactly what he means. "Sometimes I'm so sure I'm still in love with you, that we just weren't thinking straight back then, you wouldn't believe how many times I've stared at your phone number at three in the morning thinking of a reason to get back together, but I never came up with one."

You hold up the glass of wine he'd handed you an hour ago, forgotten in the whirlwind of emotions and memories, neither of you in need of the liquid courage as your thoughts slipped from your lips easily, words dying to be heard, and softly let it touch his glass, a silent toast to love.

"Maybe someday we'll find a reason. Until then, just don't forget about me."

Jadon smiles, tears burning in the corner of his eyes, sight too foggy to see yours sparkle as well. "How could I?"

[chipper9906]

Switch - Chapter 5

Pairings: Dylan Lenivy/Ryan Erzahler

Chapter Word Count: 14,020

Overall Word Count: 52,863

Status: Multi-Chapter - Complete (5/5)

Chapter Preview:  

“Guess we should ask…” Dylan mutters in response, clearing his throat before speaking louder. "Hey, uh… Not Laura, as you can probably tell, but uh… Who are you?”

“My name’s Max. I’m… I was supposed to be one of the counselors here, but uh… It’s kind of a long story as to why I’m not and… why I’m here.”

“Wait… Max?” Dylan asks, stepping closer to the doors. “Max as in… Laura’s boyfriend? That Max?”

“Uh… Yeah?” Max replies through the door. “And that is my full name, just to be clear. First name ‘Max’, last name ‘Larua’s boyfriend’.”

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04:31 | AUGUST 23 - MAX

 The lake of Hackett’s Quarry looked less than inviting, with its inky black surface lapping at the legs of the dock. Max had already been here once, standing on the dock. He had been here a few times actually, going to and from it, trying to convince himself it was a good idea to get in the water and swim to the other side, back to the mainland. 

HACKETT’S QUARRY ISLAND

But was it?

Laura had left him here, had told him to stay here until she comes and gets him for a reason. Given the fact that he was human now, and the moon still hung in the sky, he could only assume that Laura had done it — she had ended his curse. So, technically, he’s not a danger to anyone anymore. And whilst that surely meant the danger was over, there had been a little voice in the back of his head that kept him put on the island, not willing to brave the cold waters and whatever awaits him on the other side. 

And that little voice in his head just happened to sound a lot like Laura’s, saying “Don’t be an idiot, keep your ass right here.”

And he had. For about… maybe an hour now, if he were to guess, he had remained right here on the island. All he had to do was wait, right? Once Laura had killed Chris Hackett, she would be making her way here, making her way to him. Except… as he said — it had been an hour, and she still wasn’t here. That’s not to say that something was wrong of course. After all, Hackett’s Quarry was a pretty big place. It could easily take more than an hour for Laura to make her way back here. 

And that would be enough to put Max’s mind at ease… If it hadn’t been for the fact that he woke up in a goddamn tree. 

Something had gone wrong. It had to have. If it had gone right, then he should have woken up back in the tree house, locked away on its upper floor. But he didn’t. Someone had let him out, whether on purpose or by accident, he didn’t know. The only reassurance he had that whoever had let him out was still alive was the lack of a body anywhere on the island. And he checked. Thoroughly. Not much else to do while he waits…

Oh, and that’s not to mention the fact that someone had stolen his friggen clothes.

So, here he was again. Stood on the edge of the dock, looking down into the endless abyss that was the lake, trying to convince himself that this was the right thing to do. Especially given he had heard a damn gunshot go off somewhere in the distance, and--

Wait… Why was there a gunshot? 

If Laura had shot Chris… Then it was over, wasn’t it? Nothing left to shoot at. So who was shooting? And at what? 

Guess he had to find out…

“Alright… This seems like a bad idea.” Max said to himself as he took a seat on the edge of the dock, quietly slipping down into the water. 

“Son of a biscuit, that’s cold!” The first touch of freezing water enveloping his body makes his breath catch, fighting through his muscle's desire to tense up to keep swimming and keep himself afloat. He takes quick, rapid breaths — the only kinds his lungs will allow him to take in his body’s shock — a part of him already regretting this. “Jeez, isn’t it supposed to be summer?”

Max swims as quickly but as quietly as he can, heading towards the other dock he can just about make out in the distance. He doesn’t want to spend another minute more in this cold water than he has to, but he’d also rather not splash about in the water and let everyone and everything in the near vicinity be alerted to his presence. 

His fingers, which had already begun to stiffen from the cold, require a little more effort than usual to wrap around the wooden posts of the dock. Max heaves with the effort as he clambers up it, dragging himself over the edge of the dock. He flops onto his back, staring up at the star-dotted sky as he catches his breath. 

There’s a part of him that’s almost expecting for something to come rushing out from the trees and maul him to death, but nothing of the sort happens. The trees remain still, apart from the occasional rustle as the wind whistles through them. His teeth began to chatter, Laura’s now soaked clothes suctioned to his skin. 

Max groans as he rolls over and clambers up to his hands and knees, then up onto his feet. Drops of water had begun to cascade down from Laura’s cap, dripping down his face. He pulled the hat off his head, gripping it in both hands and wringing out as much lake water as he can before plopping it back atop his head. 

“Okay, Max… Time to get a move on before you freeze to death…”

All well and good in theory, except for the part where he has no idea where he is or where to go. In the direction of the gunshot seemed like a bad idea on all accounts… But, there’s every chance it could be Laura, or even just someone that needs help, plus… It beats wandering aimlessly around the woods. 

Not one lick of these woods seemed familiar to Max, and why would they? He had only seen the once on his way to the island, and there were other things on his mind as he and Laura trekked over to his temporary holding cell than taking in the scenery. 

“Let’s sign up to be camp counselors for the summer, that’ll look great on our college resumes!” Max narrated to himself as he made his way down the dark and creepy trails of Hackett’s Quarry Summer Camp. “Yeah… What a fun summer this was…”

  * * *

  4:50 | AUGUST 23 - DYLAN

HACKETT’S QUARRY LODGE

 “Jesus, Dylan… Would you stop gawking at the dude?” 

Dylan looked away from the monitors only to be greeted by Ryan’s rather unimpressed look, to which he only deepens Ryan’s frown by cheerfully smiling at him. “Aww, no need to be jealous, babe. You know I love you the most.”

“I, uh- it’s… that-- I mean, u-um, you--”

“Wow, I actually just witnessed the breaking of Ryan’s brain,” said Emma, looking back at the two over her shoulder. 

“Guys, shouldn’t we be focusing on this right now?” Abi hissed, poking at the figure on the monitor. “What do we do? He’s obviously coming to the lodge.”

“Well, he doesn’t have any weapons. Not that I can see, anyway,” Emma says, turning her attention back to the monitors. “Kinda hard to tell though… You’d think Mr. H would have splurged on some fancy 4K cameras if it was this important to record the perimeter of the camp at all times.”

“At least it has night vision,” said Abi. 

“Yeah, so Dylan can check out random guy’s abs…” Ryan mumbled. 

“Uh, you mentioned the abs, not me,” Dylan pointed out. 

“Sounds like someone's a little jealous…” Emma sang, getting a light smack to the arm from Abi. 

Ryan scoffed. “I’m not jealous--”

“Focus, guys, focus,” Abi snapped. “Seriously, what do we do? Is he… is he one of the Hackett’s?”

“I don’t think so…” Dylan glanced over to Ryan. “Ryan, you know them better than us. Anyone in the family you think this could be?”

Ryan shook his head. “Chris didn’t talk much about his family past Kaylee and Caleb -- and that his mom lives in that house in the woods. I didn’t even know his brother was a cop until Laura told us about him.”

“Okay, so… if it’s not one of the Hackett’s, then… who the hell is right outside the lodge?” Abi asks. All four of them exchanged worried glances, the figure on the monitor getting closer and closer to the lodge…

“We could just… go out and ask him?” Emma suggests. “It’s not like he has a weapon, right? And we do. He might need our help.”

“I… think it’s better we stay here,” Ryan says. “We can keep an eye on the monitors, keep track of him--”

“Okay, and what if he tries to get inside the lodge?” Dylan asks. “Which, y’know, why wouldn’t he, given he’s headed in this direction?”

“Alright… Alright, I’m gonna go get the gun and go wait by the entrance,” Ryan says. His eyes swivel over to Dylan, the beginnings of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I’d say it’d be safer for you to stay here, but I know better than to make that suggestion given the number of times you’ve saved my ass tonight.”

“Damn right,” Dylan agrees, returning Ryan’s half-smile. “Now come on, let’s go see if ‘Mister Mystery Hot Dude’ is good or bad.”

“I knew you thought he was hot--”

“We’ve covered this Ryan: dude is hot; not as hot as you; your tongue was down my throat like five minutes ago; now go -- get gun.”

Ryan huffed, turning around and heading back towards Mr. H’s office, knowing full well there was nothing he could come up with to respond to that. Dylan followed after him, leaving a rather stunned Abi and Emma. 

“I’m not sure if that was cute, or gross,” Abi comments. 

“Both. It was both, I think.” Emma shakes her head, clearing her thoughts. She looks over to the monitors for one last look, taking in a deep breath. “We should probably follow, right?”

“Might as well…”

They only lagged behind the two boys for a few seconds, but Ryan already had the shotgun in hand by the time they entered the room, loading in another shell. He cocked the gun back into place, nodding to the three of them before leading them towards the door and back out to the main area of the lodge. 

They all remain silent as they tip-toe through the lodge, despite the fact they knew there was no longer anything dangerous inside. At least, as far as they knew -- and as much as the cameras could show them. Ryan takes the lead, sweeping the flashlight around the lodge as they move towards the main doors. 

Ryan comes to a sudden stop, and Dylan already knows why before he’s even seen it. He already knew that right there in front of them, just outside the kitchen doors, just by the entrance to the entire lodge… was Caleb’s body. He had hoped that Ryan would never have to see it, would be spared the pain of it, but… it was likely to happen at some point. He steps up to Ryan’s side, looking over to see the sheen of pain in Ryan’s eyes as he stares down at Caleb’s blood-soaked body. Dylan has no words of comfort to offer, so he simply places his hand on Ryan’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 

“We should… we should move him…” Ryan mumbles, tearing his eyes away from Caleb to look over to Dylan. “We can’t just leave him here in the walkway…”

“Yeah… Yeah, okay,” Dylan agrees softly. He looks at his hand on Ryan’s shoulder, then to Caleb, then… to his non-existent other hand. Pushing around tables was one thing, but lifting a body? There was no denying that there would be some limitations now he was down a hand… “Um… I, uh…”

“We got this,” Emma cuts in, nearly making Dylan and Ryan jump as both she and Abi appear at their sides. 

Abi looked a little uneasy at the thought, but it only took one glance at Ryan’s distraught face for her to nod her head in agreement. “Yeah, we can do it, Ryan. You should be keeping an eye on the door, anyway.”

Ryan nodded his head, shooting the two a slightly wobbly smile — which Dylan knew full well took a lot of effort from Ryan right now. “I, um… Thank you. I’m not sure if I… If I could have…”

Emma reached out, giving Ryan a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Ryan began to move forward again, past Caleb’s body, not wanting to look at it for a second more. Dylan followed close behind, glancing over his shoulder to see Abi and Emma had already managed to get Caleb off the floor, Emma holding him up by his shoulders whilst Abi had grabbed his legs, carefully manoeuvring him over to one of the nearby tables. 

“You didn’t have a choice, Ryan,” Dylan does his best to comfort him, already able to see the blame Ryan was placing on himself. “If you hadn’t--”

“I don’t regret it,” Ryan suddenly cut in, his gaze snapping from the door in front over to Dylan. “And I think that’s part of why I feel as shit as I do… Because I don’t feel as shit as I should. But if doing what I did meant you were safe? Then I’d do it all over again. In a heartbeat. I just… I wish it didn’t come down to this.”

A knock at the door stopped any other words Dylan was going to say in response to that. Both he and Ryan look to the door, Ryan slowly bringing the shotgun up and keeping it aimed right at center mass. Dylan could see Abi and Emma out of the corner of his eye, the two of them having made their way back over to them at the sound of the knock. 

“Hello?” A voice they don’t recognize calls out, muffled from the other side of the door. “Laura? Are you in there?”

“Laura?” Ryan mutters, keeping his voice low so whoever was on the other side couldn’t hear him. “He knows Laura?”

“Guess we should ask…” Dylan mutters in response, clearing his throat before speaking louder. "Hey, uh… Not Laura, as you can probably tell, but uh… Who are you?”

“My name’s Max. I’m… I was supposed to be one of the counselors here, but uh… It’s kind of a long story as to why I’m not and… why I’m here.”

“Wait… Max?” Dylan asks, stepping closer to the doors. “Max as in… Laura’s boyfriend? That Max?”

“Uh… Yeah?” Max replies through the door. “And that is my full name, just to be clear. First name ‘Max’, last name ‘Larua’s boyfriend’.”

Dylan snorted, getting a sneaking suspicion that he and Max were going to get along just fine — likely to the displeasure of both Ryan and Laura. Ryan rolled his eyes at Dylan’s snorted laughter, lowering the shotgun as he approached the door. “Alright, I’m gonna let you in, but just… keep your hands where I can see them, okay?”

“Um… Okay?”

“Here, come help me get this out of the way,” Ryan throws over his shoulder to Dylan, grabbing hold of one end of the table they used to block the door earlier. Dylan hurries over to the other end, pushing at the table whilst Ryan pulls it, quickly removing it from the door. 

Ryan reached for the door, keeping the shotgun ready just in case as he pulled the door open. Sure enough, standing on the other side is the very same guy they say walking around on the monitors, exposed mid-riff and all. A quick scan over him proved Emma’s earlier claim right; the guy -- Max -- didn’t have any weapons in his possession. 

“Oh, man… you have no idea how nice it is to see other people,” Max said with a beaming smile, stepping through the door and into the lodge. 

“Did you swim here or something?” Ryan asked, eyeing up Max’s damp clothes whilst he closed the door behind him.

“Oh, uh…” Max glanced down at himself, throwing his arms out to the side. “…Yeah, actually. I was on that island, in the lake? I was kinda… kinda supposed to stay put actually, but I heard a gunshot, which…” Max trailed off, eyes dropping down to the gun in Ryan’s hands. “…I’m assuming was you?”

“Um… yeah,” Ryan says, eyes dropping down to the floor. Max raises an eyebrow at that, wondering where the sudden awkwardness had come from, but a quick glance to his right, to the body he could say laid out on a nearby table, answered that for him. 

“I’m, uh… I’m guessing you guys know about… y’know, everything. Or at least, I hope you do and that’s not just a random dead person over there.”

“We know as much as Laura does,” Dylan tells Max. “She caught us up to speed with everything that happened to you guys.”

Max’s eyes visibly brightened at the mention of Laura’s name. “You talked to Laura? Is she… is she okay?”

“Far as we know,” Ryan answers. “She and Kaitlyn went off together to… to go find Chris.”

“Yeah, and given you’re… you again…” Dylan gestured towards Max. “I, uh… I’m guessing they were successful.”

“How long ago did you talk to her?” Max asks. 

“Oh uh… like, hours ago now. Four or five maybe?” Dylan answers. 

“And that’s the last time you saw her?” Max asks. 

Dylan nods. “How long have you been… back to your normal self?”

“I don't know, like... two hours maybe?” Max says, brow pinched with worry. “They should have been back by now... right?”

“Not necessarily. The Hackett House is pretty far into the woods, so it’s a decent walk to and from here,” Ryan says. 

“Yeah, I mean… From what we saw of Laura, she seemed super capable,” Abi pitches in. “And Kaitlyn, too. Them two together… I’m sure they’re fine.”

“I never met this ‘Laura’, so I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” Emma adds. 

“You should probably know though that Laura… kinda got bit. By… you,” Ryan tells Max. 

“What? I…How?”

“She thought she had killed Chris, but… she killed Kaylee instead. His… His daughter. But because she thought it was Chris, she went back to find you thinking you were gonna be human again, but… you weren’t.” Ryan explained. 

“Oh no… Oh… Christ…” Max spat, pacing back and forth with his hands on his head. “I… I bit her? I infected Laura?”

“Whoa, hey, Max — it’s okay,” Dylan assured him. “Think about it — she’s not infected anymore. If you’re you again, it means… uh…”

“It means that Chris is dead,” Ryan finishes the sentence Dylan wasn’t sure he should. 

“Right… But the chain of infection starts with Chris, right? Chris passed it on to you, then you to Laura. But if Mr. H is dead, then the chain is broken, so…”

“So we’re both cured…” Max breathed in realization, pacing coming to a stop. He slowly pulled his hands away from his head, breathing a sigh of relief. “Right… Yeah… That… That was stupid of me, I should have figured that out…”

“Nah… You’d be surprised how often stress will just like… stop your brain working,” Dylan says with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I can attest to that personally.” Ryan took a hand off the shotgun to raise it in the air. “I’m fairly certain the stress of tonight has permanently fried my brain or something.”

“What?” Dylan protested. “Ryan, your decision-making tonight has been perfectly fine--”

“Dude, you asked me to chop off your hand and I did it. Like, no questions asked, I grabbed that chainsaw and fucking sawed it off.”

“Yeah, so?”

“We didn’t even know it was werewolves yet! You jumped to a massive conclusion, and I just jumped right along with you!”

“Oh my God, how have I only just noticed you’re missing a hand?!” Max exclaimed, gawking at Dylan’s hand -- or lack thereof. “Did I… Did I do that?”

“What, you haven’t gathered from our conversation that Ryan’s the one that chopped my hand off?” Dylan snarked, getting a light shove from Ryan that had him grinning. “No, it couldn’t have been you. You were stuck on the island, right? So it wouldn’t have been possible. I lost this bad boy back at the radio hut.”

Max stared wide-eyed at Dylan. “You’re… remarkably upbeat for someone that’s lost a hand.”

Dylan shot Max a lazy smile, stepping towards him. “Hi, I’m Dylan — I use humor to mask the pain.” Dylan reached out a hand for Max to shake, looking down to see he was offering… the arm without a hand. “Oops, sorry, that’s gonna take some time to get used to.”

Dylan switched hands, offering out his last remaining one. Max shook his hand, chuckling quietly at the strangeness of it all. “Well… You already know my name.”

“Indeed we do, ‘Max-Comma-Laura’s-Boyfriend’,” Dylan stopped shaking Max’s hand, reaching it out to his side to place it on Ryan’s shoulder. “This is Ryan, by the way. And that’s Emma--” Dylan pointed behind him to her, before shifting his pointed finger over to Abi. “--And that’s Abi.”

“Hi,” both girls said, waves of greeting in sync. 

“Would have been nice to have met you guys the normal way, but uh… still nice to meet you either way.” Max glanced down at himself once again, suppressing a shiver from the feeling of his cold damp clothes stuck to his skin. “Hey, is there any chance we can get a fire going in the…” he trailed off, taking in the sight of the destroyed chimney. “…Oh, guess not.”

“Here--” Emma unwraps the hoodie that she had tied around her waist, passing it over to Max. “Hopefully that’ll warm you up a little.”

“Thanks--” Max gives the hoodie a double take, and then looks closer at Emma’s attire. “Wait a second… You were the one that stole my clothes?”

“The ones I found stuffed into an old bag up in the tree house? They were yours?” Emma asks in return.

“Yeah, Laura and I put a change of clothes into the duffel so I’d have something to wear when I turned back, since… exploding into a friggen werewolf tends to rid you of your clothes, and--” Max gestures at himself with a dramatic wave of his arm. “--This wasn’t exactly my first choice of clothing.”

“At least you can pull it off,” Dylan offers, giving Ryan a teasing jab with his elbow. “Right, Ryan?”

“Yeah, I’m not even gonna answer that.”

“I heard a ‘yeah’ in there.”

“What? No- that’s not what I--” Ryan sighed, throwing up a hand into the air. “Fine, sure. He can pull it off.”

“...Thank you?” Max said, hoodie partway on, caught between one of the weirdest ‘arguments’ he’s probably ever witnessed. 

“It really sucks that my phone got drenched,” Emma laments, arms folded as she pouts. “I could have shown you this great pic of you I snagged while you were trying to rip my face off.”

“Oh Jesus -- I attacked you too?” Max asks.

“Yeah, but it was… kinda my fault,” Emma admits. “Granted, I had no idea you were up there as a werewolf, but… yeah, I opened up the hatch thingey in the tree house and ‘Surprise! Werewolf in the attic, jumping down on top of me'.”

“Did I hurt you?” Max asks, and they could hear the guilt in his voice, as if he was automatically assuming that was the case. 

“Pfft, no,” Emma answers with a snort. “The tazer and bear spray you guys packed into the bag turned out to be quite the werewolf deterrents. Was how I managed to take a photo of you all up close and gross. Uh, no offense.”

Max huffed softly in laughter. “You know, usually I would, but I’ve seen myself on video while one of those things and… yeah, I look disgusting and super gross.”

“To be fair, I think that’s the case for all werewolves,” Abi says. “I mean, the thing Nick turned into was… horrifying.”

“Yeah, and the one that tried to take my hand off won’t be winning any beauty contests any time soon,” Dylan adds. “You know, we still probably could get those photos off your phone, Emma.”

“How? It’s dead,” Emma says, pulling her water-sodden phone out of her pocket and waving it in Dylan’s direction. 

“You never heard of the rice trick?” Dylan asks. “Not just rice either. Anything absorbent. Actually, silica gel is the best, but rice usually works, too. Stick your phone in there, let it dry out, then boom – phone turns back on. Sometimes.”

“Okay… Do you have any rice?” Emma asks.

“...No,” Dylan replies after a few moments of awkward silence. “But even if your phone doesn’t turn back on, there’s usually some tools you can use to extract data and shit from it. And given the cops are gonna want as much evidence as possible, I’m sure they’ll put their best resources into recovering those photos.”

“Oh, God… The cops…” Ryan groaned. “What the hell are we even gonna say? How do we explain any of this?”

“I’m getting thrown straight back into a jail cell aren’t I…” said Max. 

“But we have proof, right?” Abi asks. “We’ve all found some weird stuff that backs everything up, and been taking photos.”

“Yeah, I got a few.” Dylan waves his phone in the air. 

“So… what? We’re just gonna tell them the truth?” Ryan asks. 

“Got any better ideas?” Emma asks in return. 

“I just… don’t think that the cops are going to believe that it was werewolves. Even if we do have evidence, it’s… it’s too insane.”

“The truth is all we’ve got, Ryan,” said Dylan. “We tell them our story, give them our evidence and… see what happens.”

“Wait… Are the police on their way now?” Max asks. 

“We… don’t know,” Dylan admits. “We tried calling them when Nick first got attacked, but uh… phone lines got cut.”

“Also tried getting a radio message out,” Ryan adds on. “Also didn’t work. Well, it did, but it kind of got intercepted by who I’m now assuming were Chris’s family and, uh… You said it had a pretty short range anyway, right Dylan?”

“Yeah, about a mile.” Dylan nods. “The signal booster might have got the message through to someone else, but, y’know… Didn’t exactly get much time to see if anyone was radioing us back.”

“So… Now what?” Emma asks. “Phone lines are cut, radios unlikely to reach anyone, mini-vans busted--”

“Oh, I was wondering why you guys were still here,” Max interjected. “Camp ended yesterday, right?”

“Yeah, we were supposed to be out of here by now, but… There was a part missing from the mini-van, right, Ryan?”

“Uh, missing?” Max directs to Ryan. “How exactly did that happen? Car parts don’t usually just up and walk out on you.”

“We still haven’t figured that one out,” Ryan says with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“Yeah, and you guys still haven’t answered my question,” Emma cuts in. “What are we gonna do? As much as explaining this to the cops is going to suck, we do still need them here.”

“Sure, but how?” Dylan asks. “Phone lines were like… cut cut, right? And unless any of you guys know how to repair something like that, the phone’s still a no-go.”

“I suppose we could just, like, walk. At least, far enough until we get signal and can make a call?” Emma suggests. 

“You remember the drive up here, right?” Dylan asks. “We all lost signal way far away from camp. I doubt we could walk that far, and if we did, our phones would die long before we get anywhere with signal.”

“You can’t, like… charge them up?” Max asks. 

“...Yeah, we’re not all standing here in the dark for aesthetic reasons, man,” Ryan says dryly, the comment earning him a muffled snort from Dylan. “They cut the power same time they cut the phone lines.”

Max huffs. “Well that’s… great. Seriously, what is wrong with these people? Would they seriously rather let innocent people die than go get proper help for this… curse? Affliction? I don’t know what to call it.”

“That’s… kinda what it seems like, yeah. Especially if Jacob did actually see a body in the lake,” Dylan points out. 

“Oh. And it keeps getting better.” Max turns away with a sigh, shaking his head as he places his hands on his hips. He stays there for a moment, thinking, before turning back to them all. “Okay, I think I should head back to the island.”

They all stare at Max in surprise for a moment, before Dylan finally speaks up. “Uh… Why would you do that?”

“Because that’s where Laura expects me to be,” Max explains. “Really, I shouldn’t have left there in the first place. But I heard the gunshot and I thought… I don’t know, maybe she was in trouble or… or someone needed help. Either way, you guys are obviously fine, so… Best thing for me to do is go back and wait. For all I know, Laura could be there right now trying to figure out where I up and vanished to.”

“We still don’t know what could be out there,” Ryan says. “Sure, you’re back to normal which hopefully means any other werewolves are back to normal too. But we don’t know that for sure. And even if that is the case…” Ryan hesitated for a moment, the reality of what he was about to say next still not sitting right with him, even if he knows it’s likely to be the truth. “We still don’t know how many more of Chris’s family there are around. And from what we’ve seen so far tonight, they’re… they’re not being all that ‘friendly’.”

“Trust me, I know that. I’ve spent two friggen months under the captivity of Travis Hackett, okay? But even so, I need to at least try and find Laura.”

“Look, for safety’s sake it’s best we all just wait for dawn to break. It’s not that far out anyway,” Ryan suggests. “And it’s not like you’re the only one of us that has someone out there they’re worried about, okay? We’ve still gotta find Kaitlyn, and Nick, and Jacob--”

“Never thought I’d make it into your list, Erzhaler.”

They all whirl around at the unexpected voice, Ryan bringing up the shotgun and pointing it in the direction they had heard the voice coming from. The flashlight attached to the shotgun lands on Jacob, who winces at its bright glare, bringing up a hand to shield his eyes. “Jesus, dude, that’s the second time tonight you’ve pointed that thing at me. Starting to get the feeling you don’t like me or something.”

“Jacob? The hell did you--” Ryan starts, then stops once he realizes there was another person standing just behind him. “Holy Shit, Nick?”

“Oh my God…” Abi utters softly at the sight of him. He was coated in blood, and his clothes could barely be called clothes anymore, reduced to flimsy shreds of fabric that barely provided him with modesty. 

“Yeah, I uh… I found him in the woods on my way over here,” Jacob explains, limping somewhat as he makes his way over to the group. Nick sluggishly follows, nervous eyes darting around the lodge with every step. “He’s, uh… He’s a little shaken up,” Jacob adds quietly. 

“Where… exactly did you even come from, man?” Ryan asks. “How’d you get in here?”

“Oh, there’s a window open,” Jacob answers, looking over his shoulder to where he and Nick had come from. “I came through it yesterday when Dylan thought it’d be funny to lock the door on me--”

“Uh, I didn’t think it was funny,” Dylan corrects him. “I knew it was funny. And it was.”

“What the hell happened to you?” Emma asks Jacob, an odd mixture of both concern and annoyance shining in her eyes. “After you pushed me off the edge of the walkway--”

“I didn’t… push you off,” Jacob was quick to insist. 

“Whatever, after that thing attacked us and I ended up in the water, you sorta just… I don’t know, disappeared I guess.”

“Yeah, it’s uh… it’s a long story,” Jacob says. 

“Like the kind of long story from when you showed up with your face covered in blood?” Dylan asks, then pauses, smiling at Jacob as he points to his own face. “Hey! Twinsies!”

“Why are you…?” Jacob begins, but decides it better to not ask. “Uh, anyway, yeah — exactly like that. I ended up stepping into a stupid fucking bear trap one of those hunter guys set up—” Jacob points down at his leg, puncture marks still visible even in the dark of the lodge. “Fucked up my leg pretty bad.”

“I think I can one-up you,” Dylan says, lifting up his stub into the air and giving it a wave. 

Jacob’s eyes widen at the sight of it, his mouth falling open. “Holy Shit, dude, what -- what the hell happened?”

“Ryan cut it off. With a chainsaw,” Dylan answers, missing out a few key details in his story. 

“Uh, what?”

“Jesus, Dylan. Can you not make it sound like I did it for fun or something?” Ryan asks, giving Dylan a light nudge. 

“Sorry, but it is funny seeing people’s reaction when they hear that,” Dylan says, his satisfied smile getting Ryan to roll his eyes. He turns back towards Jacob. “But yeah, full disclaimer, Ryan did it to save my life. Or… stop me from becoming a werewolf after one of them bit me. Wait… How much of all this do you know about?”

“Bits and pieces, I think,” Jacob answers. “After I stepped in that trap those hunter dudes knocked me out and threw me in some fucking cages under their house. And, uh… Nick was there too, in the other cage. At least… I think it was him.” 

Nick winces at the reminder, arms wrapped around himself and head bowed, staring at the ground. None of them really know what to say or do that might be of some comfort to Nick. Especially Abi, judging by the way she kept glancing over in his direction as they spoke. But Dylan could only imagine the reminder of what he’d done — and the things he had said — still sat fresh in her mind. Even if they knew it wasn’t exactly Nick. 

“So, uh… How’d you escape?” Ryan asks. 

“Kaitlyn found me. Her and… shit, I can’t remember her name… She had like this eyepatch and… was kinda trigger happy?”

“Laura?” Max asks, speaking for the first time since Jacob and Nick had appeared. “You spoke to Laura too?”

“Laura! That was her na--” Jacob had to give Max a double take, for one: not knowing who the hell he was, and two… He barely held back a snort, eyebrow raised as his eyes raked over Max’s ‘choice’ of attire. “Dude… The hell are you wearing?”

Max just raised an eyebrow back at Jacob, returning his questioning gaze as he looked him up and down. “Uh… Not sure you can talk given I’m literally looking at your nipples right now.”

“He’s got you there,” Dylan tells Jacob with a teasing grin. “Have you seriously been running around the whole night with your tits out?”

“I mean… It’s not exactly like I’ve had the opportunity to get dressed,” Jacob says. “After Kaitlyn told me about all the crazy shit that’s happened and that they have to… kill Mr. H or something, she got me out of the cage and I came straight here. I wasn’t exactly gonna hang around in my kidnapper's house and find some clothes, am I?”

“Well… Guess we know they made it to the house at least,” said Emma. 

“...Who is that?” Nick speaking took everyone by surprise, given he had been silent since arriving. They follow his line of sight to the body laid out on the table. 

“It’s… It’s Caleb. Caleb Hackett,” Dylan answers solemnly. “Turns out he was a werewolf too. He, um... He got into the lodge and was trying to kill us.”

“Did…” Nick hesitates, eyes swiveling over from Caleb’s body to them, glossy with unshed tears. “Did I… Did I try and hurt any of you?”

“No, no you didn’t,” Ryan quickly tried to assure Nick. “I… think.”

“Yeah, I mean… I’ve only got this, and you were still… you, when it happened,” Dylan says, gesturing to his amputated hand. 

“...How much do you remember?” Abi timidly asks Nick. 

“Nothing. At least, nothing when I was… one of those things. But I…” Nick’s voice shakes, a few of those unshed tears spilling free. “I’m so sorry… I… I do remember what happened before I changed… The things I said… What I did…” Nick looks over to Abi, expression filled with shame. “Abi… I’m so fucking sorry… How could I have… Fuck.”

“It wasn’t you,” Abi says quietly. “I know it wasn’t you, Nick.”

“It really wasn’t,” Max adds on, much to their surprise. “Trust me, I know. I was fortunate enough to be drugged and unconscious when I first turned, so I can’t even imagine how intense it is. But I was awake for the next one, and… You just start to lose yourself. You can feel this other thing taking over, and there’s nothing you can do. You feel yourself being pushed back, locked away as this violent being claws its way to the surface. Then, right before, it’s… it’s pain, and burning, and… and it’s every bad thought you’ve ever had about yourself, about others, about the whole damn world all rolled into one, then… lights out.”

Nick nods, eyes cast to the ground. “I’m still sorry, though. I was such a dick…”

“I’m sorry, too,” Abi also apologizes, which confused Nick enough that he looks away from the ground and up at her. 

“Sorry for… what?”

“I shot you,” Abi says, in disbelief that she has to remind Nick of that. “I… Oh my God, I… shot you.”

“Because you had to,” Nick insists. “Abi, I… I threw you across the room. I could have killed you. Listen, I’m glad you shot me, because if you hadn’t…” Nick shakes his head. “I don’t even wanna think about what could have happened…”

“Hey, so, uh… So long as we’re on the whole… apologizing thing,” Jacob cuts into the awkward tension they found themselves in — in a way that somehow made it worse. “I, uh… I kinda have something to tell you guys. And… apologize for.”

Ryan narrows his eyes at Jacob, head tilted back as he gives him a suspicious glare. “What exactly could you have to apologize for?”

Jacob exhales shakily, staring down at the floor hands jittering by his side as he works up the courage. “Um… Okay, so… So you know how we couldn’t get the mini-van to work yesterday?”

They all nod, waiting for Jacob to continue. “That was… That was kinda… me…”

“Wait… The missing rotor arm…?” Ryan starts to put the pieces together, suspicion very quickly turning to anger. “Dude, you -- you stole the fucking rotor arm?”

“Whoa, what?” Dylan exclaimed. “That was you?” 

“Seriously? Jesus, Jacob… What the fuck?” Emma’s words were the ones to make Jacob flinch, head still lowered in his shame. “Oh my God, wait a second… When… When you said that ‘this wasn’t how you wanted the night to go…’ That’s what you were talking about?”

“I didn’t exactly know all this was going to happen, alright?” Jacob tried to defend himself, hands thrown out to his side to gesture towards the messy interior of the lodge — and towards the night overall. “Like… seriously! How could I have possibly known that this was how the night would go down? I just… I wanted one more night, okay? One more night of summer fun, and I… I don’t know, I guess I wasn’t ready for it to be over.”

“And… what? You thought it’d be a good idea to sabotage our only way out of here and force us to stay another night against our will?” Emma questions Jacob's 'plan’, each word spoken breaking down Jacob’s defense.

“Wait… So where’s the part you took?” Dylan asks.

“I lost it…” Jacob mumbles. “When Emma and I went swimming, it fell into the lake. I tried to get it back but… I couldn’t.”

“Well… That explains a lot…” Ryan says. Dylan looks over to him in surprise at the amount of hostility packed into his voice, a little part of him feeling nervous at how tightly Ryan was gripping the shotgun. “I should have known… When you were being a dick to me trying to get the van ‘working’. More so than usual, anyway.”

“What do you want me to say, man?” Jacob retorts. “That I'm sorry? Because yeah, I am. I can guarantee you that no one in this room hates me more than I hate myself right now. I wish I hadn’t done it, but I did, and I can’t change that.”

“All of this… it could have been avoided.” Ryan shakes his head in disgust. “We wouldn’t have been here if it weren’t for you.”

“Hey, back off!” Jacob raises his voice as he — stupidly — steps closer to Ryan. “I know what I did was shitty, but it’s not like I would have done it if I’d known there were fucking werewolves and people with guns running about!”

“Whoa, guys--” Dylan tries to break up the brewing fight he could see coming from a mile away. He jolts in surprise when Ryan all but throws the shotgun at him, pinning it to his chest with his arm. Probably a good idea all things considered given how heated Jacob and Ryan were getting… 

“That still doesn’t take away how much of an asshole you are. All because you couldn’t accept that Emma doesn’t want you anymore, you nearly got us all killed--”

“Fuck you, man!” Jacob takes another step closer. 

“No, fuck you!” Ryan spits, jabbing a finger in Jacob’s direction. “Fucking look at Dylan’s hand! You see that?! It’s gone. One of those fucking things bit him, and that’s on you. This is your fault--”

“Oh, is it now?” Jacob says. The sneer in his voice makes Dylan’s stomach turn, getting a nasty feeling that whatever he was going to say next might just push Ryan over the edge. “Could have sworn Dylan said you cut his hand off, so I think we know whose fault that is.”

Yep, that did it. Ryan’s eyes may have already been alight with rage, but now they were downright burning. “What did you just say--?!” Ryan steps forward, shoving hard at Jacob’s chest. Despite being smaller than him, the push is enough to send Jacob stumbling back a few steps, who looks about as shocked at Ryan’s — rarely shown — display of strength. Unfortunately, it also pisses Jacob off even more. His fists curl by his sides, and Dylan’s fairly certain there’s about to be another punch thrown. 

“Alright, that’s enough!” Dylan drops the gun down on a nearby table, both the loud clang of that and his yell —also rarely shown (or heard, he supposed) — stopping both Ryan and Jacob in their tracks. “This whole 'blame game' thing is fucking pointless. Yes, what Jacob did was stupid and yes, we’re all gonna be a little pissed about that. But you know what? You could put the blame on me, too.”

“What?” Ryan splutters. “Dylan, there’s nothing you--”

“I was the one that suggested the party, remember?” Dylan says firmly. “Mr. H wanted us to stay inside. You wanted us to stay inside. But because of me, we were all out in the woods. Out in danger. So would you put the blame on me too?”

“No, no, that’s--” 

“Hell, you could put the blame on everyone. You could say that if Emma hadn’t kissed Nick during that dare--” Dylan pauses to direct his next words to Emma. “--Also, not putting the blame on you in the slightest, just making a point--” Emma shrugs her shoulders in understanding, waiting for Dylan to continue. “--Then Abi and Nick wouldn’t have ended up in the woods, and Nick wouldn’t have gotten bit. Or you could just skip straight to Abi and say that if she hadn’t run off into the woods on her own that Nick wouldn’t have gotten bit. You could put the blame on Max and Laura for showing up here a night early--”

“Or not going to the Harbringer motel…” Max mutters under his breath.

“...What?” Dylan asks.

“Nothing, never mind. Continue with your argument.”

“Right. Well, anyway, point is, there’s no point in pointing fingers in blame and asking questions of ‘what if?’ It sucks, but what happened, happened. We can’t change it. And I’m not saying you can’t be upset about it, but you know what? We’re alive. And I’m sure Kaitlyn and Laura will be back in no time. So we can please just be grateful for that much, and not keep up this terrible night by punching each other?!” 

Ryan blinked in surprise at Dylan’s outburst, not at all used to hearing him raise his voice. It seemed to have worked though, both Jacob’s and Ryan’s anger having slipped away after Dylan argued his piece. Everyone in the room was frozen still, apart from the occasional glance at each other, not knowing what to say or do next after all that. And, again, apart from Ryan, who was just staring at Dylan in his shock. 

“I think you might have broken Ryan again,” Emma told Dylan, breaking the silence. “Either that or you turned him on. Not sure which yet.”

  * * *

  05:50 | AUGUST 23 - RYAN

HACKETT’S QUARRY LODGE

 Ryan leaned against the banister that overlooked the entrance to the lodge, his forearms resting across the top as he stared out into the forest. He could just about see the few slivers of light through the trees, steadily brightening yellows and oranges replacing the stifling darkness of the previous night. He hadn’t been out here for long, maybe only five minutes or so. Seems he had come at the perfect time to see the approaching dawn of a new day.

“Now that’s a nice sight, huh?” Dylan’s voice comes from next to him, the other boy appearing out of the corner of his eye. He joins him in leaning against the banister, both of them now enjoying the upcoming sunrise. 

Ryan hums in agreement to Dylan’s statement. “Never been much of a morning person, but yeah. Don’t think I’ve appreciated the sunrise as much as I do right now.”

“You did always seem extra grumpy in the mornings,” Dylan teases him, lightly bumping his shoulder against his. 

Ryan’s mouth ticks up as he huffs. “Could have been a lot grumpier. Your morning announcements made it easier to start the day.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t hate my voice by the end of camp,” Dylan says, turning to the side to face Ryan as he speaks. “You must have been getting tired of the announcements a little bit.”

Ryan just smiles as he shakes his head, looking away from the surrounding forest and over at Dylan. “Nope. Not one bit. I like your voice.”

“Oh, good. Maybe I’ll start a podcast or something. Give you an excuse to listen to my sultry tones.”

“Or we could just… talk over the phone. Or on discord or something. Or… in person,” Ryan suggests. 

“Well, that’s a given,” Dylan says with a playful smile. “Now that you’ve caved and given me your number, I will be taking full advantage of the opportunity you’ve gifted me.”

“Go ahead and ‘take full advantage’,” Ryan challenges him. “That is why I gave you my number.”

“...For me to annoy you?”

“If that’s how you wanna see it, sure,” Ryan says with a shrug of his shoulders. “But I see it more as… your own strange yet endearing way of both showing your affection and asking for attention.”

“Hmm, we’ll see if you change your tune a few months down the line. Twenty bucks you get sick of me.”

Ryan snorts, looking at Dylan in disbelief. “Dude, never. That’s never gonna happen. If we can get through two months of summer camp in charge of a bunch of hyper kids and survive a night like the one we did and still come out of it liking each other, let alone like each other more than we did at the start, then I’d say the odds of me getting sick of you are slim to none.”

Dylan’s smile just got goofier and goofier the more Ryan spoke, to which Ryan shot Dylan a perplexed frown as he asked him, “What?”

“So you like me, huh?”

Ryan took in a deep breath, and then sighed. Seemed Dylan was already trying to test him with the whole ‘can’t get sick of you’ claim. Or maybe Dylan just wanted some extra, verbal confirmation. “Yes, Dylan. I like you, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Okay, but do you ‘like like’ me?”

Never mind, Dylan was definitely just trying to mess with him here. “Jesus dude… It’s like we’re back in middle school.”

Dylan broke, chuckling softly at the amused exasperation in Ryan’s voice. His laughter tapered off as his eyes slid away from Ryan and to the sight of Max on the other side of the balcony, who was pacing up and down the small stretch that wrapped around the side of the lodge. He had been out here ever since the conversation in the lodge had come to an end, either doing exactly what he’s doing now, or what Ryan was doing — staring out into the forest, waiting for any sign of movement. 

Waiting for Laura. 

“Wow. He really loves her, huh?” Dylan says quietly, gesturing with a nod in his head in Max’s direction when Ryan gives him an understandably confused look at the statement. 

Ryan twists his head around, following Dylan’s line of sight to Max. “Yeah, I’d say so… Can’t exactly say I’d be doing much better in his shoes if it were you out there.”

Dylan ducked his head, hiding his rapidly reddening face, grateful that Ryan was still looking in Max’s direction. Probably for the best that he doesn’t think too much about what Ryan was implying there. Dylan cleared his throat, trying to clear said implications from his head. “Is there, uh… Anything we should do?”

“I don’t think he really wants to hear comforting words right now. But… Give it ten minutes or so and we’ll start getting ready to go and search for them.” Ryan glanced over at Dylan, just in time to see the wince Dylan was trying his best to hide, amputated arm held in his only good hand. “If, uh… If you’re up for it, that is.”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine, I just--” Dylan winced again, not doing much to back up his claim. “I think those painkillers Kaitlyn gave me are starting to wear off…”

“That… doesn’t sound like you’re fine,” Ryan says, brow creased in worry. 

“No, seriously, it’s fine,” Dylan tries to insist. “Every now and then it just kinda… twinges a little I guess. Trust me, it could be worse.”

“Wait here a second,” Ryan tells Dylan, rushing back into the lodge before Dylan could even ask him where he’s going. He heads straight for Chris’s office, snatching up the little bottle of heavy-duty painkillers they had left on the desk before rushing back outside and to Dylan. 

“Here.” Ryan holds out the bottle for Dylan to take. 

“Oh, cool. Where’d you get these from?” Dylan asks as he plucks the bottle from Ryan, popping open the top and peeking inside. 

“They were the ones you grabbed from Chris’s bathroom, remember?” 

“Sweet. I mean, even if you had found them lying around the place somewhere, I’m not really in a position to turn down mystery painkillers.”

“Yeah, well… It’s not like Chris will need them anymore.”

Dylan paused, bottle held mid-air as his eyes darted to and from Ryan. “Uh… Was that a joke, or…?”

“More a matter of fact…” Ryan grumbled. 

“Suppose you’re right…” Dylan upturned the bottle of pills, shaking a few of them into his mouth and swallowing them straight down. He lowered his arm back down, only to be greeted by Ryan’s part amazed part concerned stare. 

“Uh… I don’t know whether I should be impressed that you just dry-swallowed them.”

Dylan wiggles his eyebrows in response, fumbling with the bottle somewhat as he places the cap back on. “No gag reflex, baby. I’ll leave you to think on that one.”

“Isn’t it actually kind of dangerous to dry swallow pills?” Ryan asks.

“...Probably. I think there’s a chance it can get stuck in your throat or something.”

“Dude, you should have asked me to get you a glass of water or something.”

“Well I’m not choking, am I?” Dylan pointed out. “I’m sure it’s fine to do it once.”

“If you say so. I’d just rather not have to explain to the paramedics and the police that you died not because of some rabid animals that were hunting us all night, but because you choked to death on some painkillers.”

“I mean… There are worse ways to die.”

“True,” Ryan conceded, leaning forward against the banister again. “Um… I just wanted to say sorry. For earlier. I… I shouldn’t have got that angry.”

Dylan sighs, cautiously resting his injured arm on top of the banister. “Not really me you have to be apologizing to. I wasn’t the one you were about to take a swing at.”

“I know, I know. And I will. I’m just…” Ryan absentmindedly played with his fingers as he spoke. “I don’t think I’m ready to do that yet. I’m still kind of…”

”Pissed off?” Dylan guessed. 

“Aren’t you?” Ryan asked, looking up from his hands and to Dylan. “I don’t know how you were so calm about it. I… I get that I shouldn’t have gotten angry on your behalf, but… Jesus, Dylan. You lost your hand because of tonight. It doesn’t upset you a little that we were trapped here because of Jacob?”

Dylan stares down at his feet, taking in a deep breath. “A little? Sure. Maybe I’m too tired to think on it all that much, but… Like I said before, I’m just glad we’re all alive. Well, hopefully all of us…” Dylan adds on, glancing anxiously towards the entrance of the camp. 

“If any of us were gonna make it out of here alive, it’d be Kaitlyn,” Ryan claimed, trying to keep the optimism high. “You put a gun in her hands, and nothing will stop her.”

“Good point. I actually saw you guys during one of the shooting lessons. You seemed like you were doing well until Kaitlyn came along and whooped your ass.”

“It’s a little scary to be honest.”

Dylan chuckles, completely in agreement. “Oh, for sure. And then Kaitlyn and Laura together? Terrifying duo right there… Werewolves are probably more scared of them than they are of them…”

Ryan chuckled softly, his mouth pulled into one of those rare smiles that crinkles at the corner of his eyes. “Anyone ever told you you have a really nice smile?” Dylan asks. 

“Only you,” Ryan says, a half smile still pulling at his lips. 

“They’re very contagious. First time I saw you smile this summer, I made it my personal challenge to make you smile as much as I could. Didn’t realize how much of a challenge it was, but man was it worth it.”

Ryan tries his best to hide his bashful smile from Dylan’s words, face ducked down as he feels a rush of heat to his face. “Come on… It’s just a smile.”

“Oh, you have no idea how much power that smile of yours holds,” Dylan says, turning to face forward and nudging his shoulder into Ryan’s. “And your laugh? Forget seeing you smile for the first time. First time I heard your laughter, the butterflies in my stomach were going crazy. Knew right then and there that I was a goner…”

Ryan reached out for Dylan’s hand on top of the banister, who flips over his hand for Ryan to take. They lace their fingers together, Ryan giving his hand a light squeeze as he glances up at Dylan. “And yet you waited until the end of summer to make your move.”

“Yeah, well… Didn’t want to make Emma and Jacob jealous when we become the new cutest couple.”

Ryan huffs, finding himself nodding his head in agreement. “Do you… Do you ever regret not making a move earlier in the summer?” 

“Yes and no, I guess. I can’t tell you how many nights I spent trying to convince myself to just man up and tell you how I felt. But… every morning I’d wake up and chicken out of it. Didn’t want to make the rest of the summer awkward if you said no…”

“Don’t know if this makes you feel better or worse, but…” Ryan squeezes his hand again. “I was hesitant to let myself feel the way I do until I knew you felt the same, so uh… I wouldn’t have said no.”

“I… don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse either,” Dylan says, getting another laugh out of Ryan. 

“Kind of a shame, huh? Sucks to think how much fun we could have had this summer…”

Dylan bites back a grin, nudging Ryan with his elbow to get him to look at him. “Fun, huh? What kind of fun are we talking about here?”

“Well… I’ll leave you to think on that one,” Ryan parrots Dylan’s earlier words. 

“I’d prefer to act on it,” Dylan says before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Ryan’s mouth. Ryan tightens his grip on Dylan’s hand at the first touch of his mouth to his, tilting his head to get a better angle as he leans into the kiss. 

“I think I prefer that too,” Ryan says as they pull apart, getting a pleased smile from Dylan in response, which Ryan gestures to with a flick of his chin. “And just so you know…. you’re not the only one trying to get as many smiles as possible.”

“Oh, really? This becoming a competition, huh? See who can make the other smile the most?”

“Given you smile whenever we kiss, I don’t think it’s going to be much of a competition.”

“Well, I had to break it to you, Ryan, but…” Dylan dipped down to give Ryan a chaste kiss, pulling back to tap a finger to the corner of Ryan’s mouth, where a half-smile had formed. “I’m not the only one.”

“Hey, guys--” Ryan and Dylan startle at Max’s voice, so caught up in each other that they hadn’t noticed him making his way over to them. “Sorry to interrupt, but uh… You guys hear that too, right?”

Dylan and Ryan tilted their heads, listening out for whatever it was that Max was hearing. Sure enough, now that they were listening out for it… There was something. Something approaching the entrance to the camp. Something that sounded a lot like…

“Is that…?” Dylan begins to ask. “Is that a car?”

  * * *

  06:00 | AUGUST 23 - KAITLYN

HACKETT’S QUARRY LODGE

None of them had said a word. Both in the walk back to the car, and right now sat in it, driving back to camp. Or at least, that’s where she assumed Travis was driving them back to. Suppose it made sense that no one felt like talking, given the fact that they had just murdered a child. A feral one that turned into a ravenous beast every full moon, sure, but still… he was a child. Just a little boy that had gone from living in a cage to having to survive by himself out in the wild. No home. No family. Just himself and the entire stretch of the east coast to scramble around for survival. 

It wasn’t like they had any other choice… right? Like Travis had said, if they didn’t stop Silas, then… then it would just start back up all over again. Someone new to be mauled, or even to be bit and turned, spreading the curse to them, who would then spread the curse to someone else, and so on and so forth until… Until it all got way out of hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Travis said out of nowhere, taking both girls by surprise. “I want you to know that. I know my apologies probably don’t mean jack-shit to either one of you, but I still want you to have them.”

“Um… Okay?” Laura didn’t really know how else to respond to that. 

“It was never meant to get this far. You know, you spend your whole life convinced that there’s nothing more important than your family. Nothing. That you’d do anything for ‘em, you know? But you don’t… you don’t realize how that kind of devotion and loyalty, the very things they praise you for, end up blinding you from reality. Makes you think that… that the messed up shit you’re doing is reasonable. That it’s okay because… because it means you’re keeping your family safe. 

“Every damn day I’d come into work and stare at those missing person's posters, and I’d know exactly where those people were. I’d look at them, and I’d see the chains and cinder blocks I tied to their feet as I shoved them into the lake. And I’m a… I’m a police officer--” Travis slammed his open palm down on the edge of the steering wheel. “I’m a goddamn sheriff. I took an oath to protect the law. To protect the people. And I’m fucking stood there with you and your boy locked away in those cells and just hoping that passion of yours for veterinary sciences might just be of use because otherwise my family’s gonna find out about you and… and they’re gonna ask me to ‘dispose’ of you too.”

“Well… Guess it’s lucky I ended up being useful then…” said Laura. 

Travis shook his head, but not in disagreement with Laura’s statement. “You and Max… All you kids… You were innocent in all this. Dragged into my family’s shit, and were made to suffer for it. I guess… I’m not surprised it ended this way. My family’s situation had been a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. I just never figured the ignition would be a bunch of counselors both showing up too early and staying longer than they should have…”

“Technically, not our fault,” Kaitlyn said. “Mini-van was broken. Wasn’t our choice to stay.”

“And…yeah, okay, I guess it was my fault me and Max showed up a day early. But I wasn’t exactly expecting the owners of a summer camp for little kids to be run by goddamn werewolves--”

“I know, I know,” Travis off Laura’s incoming rant with a tired-sounding sigh. “I’m not blaming you -- none of you kids. I might not have been the one to start this, or to succumb to the same curse as my brother and his children, but… I’m far from an innocent party either. I guess what I’m trying to say is this is me trying to make amends. Or… starting to anyway. I know chances are that I never can, but I’ll still try. And it starts with me getting you kids the hell out of this place and clearing your names.”

“Okay, so… What’s the plan?” Kaitlyn asks. “I assume first thing first is to get back to camp and… and see who made it…”

“If they’re smart, they’ll have headed to the lodge. Preferably the storm shelter.”

“You mean the storm shelter Max got bit in?” Laura asks, sarcasm seeping into her voice. 

“You broke in,” Travis said firmly. “Thankfully, werewolves aren’t smart enough to figure out how to do that. If they hid down there and stayed quiet? They’d be perfectly safe.”

“Uh… I know that for a few of my fellow counselors, ‘staying quiet’ isn’t their forte,” Kaitlyn says. “But… given everything that’s gone on tonight, I’m sure they’d be smart enough to keep their voices down…”

“Well, we’ll find out just how smart they are once we get back,” said Travis. “We’ll check the lodge first, then from there--”

“I’m going to the island,” Laura claimed — not at all a surprise to either Travis or Kaitlyn. “Max is probably freaked out by now… I’ve been gone way longer than I should have been.”

“Alright, you can go looking for Max,” Travis agrees. Laura looked seconds away from arguing over the ‘can’, as if Travis was giving her permission that she certainly didn’t need, but he carried on talking before she could get a word — or complaint — out. “While you’re doing that, we’ll check out other areas your friends might be taking shelter in. If there’s still people missing, then we comb out and search the surrounding woodlands. But… But you should probably prepare yourself in case--”

“I know,” Kaitlyn cut Travis off, not wanting to hear him finish the rest of that sentence. “Believe me, I’ve been preparing myself for that since Abi came screaming out of the woods after Nick had nearly been ripped apart.”

“Right…” Travis mumbled, his grip around the steering wheel tightening. 

It wasn’t too long after their conversation that Travis was turning off the main road and onto Hackett property. Kaitlyn glanced out of the side window to see the sign welcoming them to Hackett’s Quarry Summer Camp pass, the car already beginning to slow as they approach the lodge. 

“Oh my God--” Laura’s exclamation brought Kaitlyn’s attention away from the side window, shifting over to the middle seat to get a better look out of the front — and to whatever it was that had caught Laura’s attention. 

Instead of adrenaline flowing through her veins, this time it was relief. There were three people standing on the balcony of the lodge, one she didn’t recognize. But the other two… She’d probably have to be dead to forget about them. 

Travis hadn’t even brought the car to a full stop before Laura had thrown open the car door and jumped out of the car. To be fair, Kaitlyn barely waited for him to pull up the handbrake before she too hurried out of the car. 

“Max!

“Laura!” Max was already halfway down the stairs leading up the lodge, practically leaping down them in his rush. Laura hadn’t even made it a few paces away from the car before Max was there, colliding with her and wrapping her up tight. Kaitlyn couldn’t help but smile at their reunion, one hand on the open door of the car as she watched them. 

“I was so worried, I thought maybe--” Max began to say, reaching up a hand to gently caress the side of her face. “And your eye. Your eye is back, you--”

“I’m okay,” Laura reassured him, smiling warmly up at Max. It was perhaps the happiest Kaitlyn had seen Laura all night. Laura’s eyes dropped down to take in Max’s attire, warm smile turning very much amused at the legging/crop top/hoodie combo. “…What are you wearing?”

“Um, it’s called fashion, sweetie.” Max’s sarcastic delivery got a quiet chuckle from Laura as she shook her head at his antics.

“Are they my clothes?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda all I had available.”

Movement out of the corner of her eye tore Kaitlyn’s attention away from the reuniting couple and to who she could only assume was another couple now given that Dylan and Ryan were headed her way, walking very close to each other. Like seriously, it was a miracle they weren’t tripping over each other’s feet. 

“So, you two idiots managed to survi--” Was all Kaitlyn could get out before her breath was squeezed out of her by both Dylan and Ryan hugging her from each side, coming dangerously close to either choking her out or cracking her ribcage. “Yep, okay, good to see you guys too but I can’t breathe,” she managed to squeak out, which got Dylan and Ryan to let go of her in a hurry. 

“Shit, sorry.” Ryan was the first to apologize.

“Yeah, didn’t mean to like… break a rib or something,” Dylan said. 

“Nah, I’m fine,” Kaitlyn waved them off, softly closing the car door before placing a hand to her side. “Think there might be some leftover soreness from where I was stabbed…”

“From where you were…?” Dylan's eyes widened as they dropped down to Kaitlyn’s side, taking in the large amount of blood soaked into her clothes. “Holy fuck, shit, we should--”

“I’m not stabbed anymore!” Kaitlyn rushed to reassure Dylan before he could go into full-on panic mode. “Werewolf healing took care of that.”

“...Come again?” Ryan asked. 

“Also not a werewolf anymore. Or… never really was, I guess. I mean, I was bit, but I never turned.”

“...What?” Both Dylan and Ryan asked at the exact same time. 

Kaitlyn sighed. “One of Mr. H’s brothers decided to shove a knife into my ribs. Laura and I quickly realized that the only way I was going to survive it was through werewolf healing, so… she offered to bite me.” 

“Kinky,” Dylan commented, getting a roll of the eyes from Kaitlyn. 

“We uh… We also found Mr. H,” Kaitlyn said, turning her apologetic gaze to Ryan. “I’m sorry, Ryan. There wasn’t much of a choice for me to make. He was coming at me and… I had to shoot.”

Ryan just nodded, eyes cast to the ground. “I figured, you know. Since…” Ryan gestures over to where Max was, still holding onto Laura like he was afraid she’d disappear if he let her go. 

“Dude's been worried sick about her,” Dylan comments. “And… we were getting pretty fucking scared when you guys didn’t show up. What exactly took you guys so long? I’m assuming it’s something to do with the fact that you showed up in a car driven by a cop who I’ve kinda been dying to ask about the moment you arrived, especially coz’ he’s still just sort of… sitting there.”

Kaitlyn looked behind her and past the windshield to where Travis was, as Dylan said, still just sitting in the car. From here it looked like he was talking into his shoulder, but Kaitlyn knew that just under the hand he had to his shoulder was his police radio. 

“I’ll explain everything later. I imagine I’ll have to tell it a hundred times over anyway when the cops arrive anyway…” Kaitlyn says, getting nods of agreement from Dylan and Ryan. “So… I’m guessing you guys are… together now?”

Ryan and Dylan glance at one another in surprise, mouths opening and closing repeatedly as they scramble for something to say. “Um… What makes you think that?” Ryan finally manages to ask. 

Kaitlyn smirks, pointing to the side of his neck. “You got a hickey on your neck.”

Ryan’s eyes go wide, hand flying up to cover where Kaitlyn had pointed out so fast that there was a slap of skin against skin. Kaitlyn began to laugh as Dylan’s face slowly shifted through different shades of red, still unable to think of anything to say. 

“I’m just kidding, you don’t have a hickey,” Kaitlyn put them out of their misery. Ryan dropped his hand with a huff. “But thank you for confirming it for me.”

“Alright, that was a good one,” Dylan had to admit, able to smile through the embarrassment. “Even if you are evil incarnate.”

“Glad to see you two finally figured it out,” Kaitlyn says, giving the two of them a light shove. “Seriously, I’m happy for you guys. I mean that. And Ryan?”

“Uh… yeah?” Ryan nervously replied. 

“So you know, just because I thought you were hot doesn’t mean I won’t hesitate to kill you if you ever hurt Dylan. And I mean that, as well.”

“Jesus, Kaitlyn…” exclaimed Dylan. “I, uh… didn’t know I had so much of an impact on you for you to… offer to murder someone on my behalf?” 

“Potentially. So long as Ryan doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t,” Ryan says with so much conviction in his voice that Kaitlyn can’t help but believe him. 

“Good,” Kaitlyn says with a friendly pat on Ryan’s shoulder. “Then you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“This has been the weirdest night of my life…” Ryan mumbled as Kaitlyn’s hand slid away from his shoulder. 

“You’re telling me,” Kaitlyn huffed. “Honestly Dylan, I’m surprised you’re still standing right now.”

“So am I,” Dylan retorted. “We found some more painkillers in Mr. H’s bathroom, so they’re doing most of the heavy lifting right now. But that’s not to say I won’t fall flat on my face any second now that the adrenaline’s worn off.”

“I’ll catch you if you do,” Ryan promised, getting a pleased little smile from Dylan in response.

”Okay, I know I said I’m happy for you guys, but ew, can you not with the sappiness?” Kaitlyn all but pleaded. “And from you, Ryan? Jesus, I really didn’t need to threaten you, did I…”

“Kaitlyn?” 

Kaitlyn looked over to her side, surprised to see it was Max saying her name. She couldn’t even get out a response before she found herself being wrapped up in one of Max’s bear hugs, a little too shocked to respond, or even know how she should respond. 

“Jesus, Max, at least ask first,” Laura reprimanded him. “Consent and all that.”

“It’s… fine?” Kaitlyn said, bringing up her arms to awkwardly pat Max on the back. 

“Sorry, just wanted to… show my gratitude I guess,” Max said as he pulled away. “From what Laura told me, we both owe our thanks to you. You broke our curse. You helped bring her back to me. I won’t ever forget that.”

“We, uh… We saved each other tonight,” Kaitlyn said, nodding her head at Laura, who sheepishly smiled back. “And… you kinda saved me by proxy too I guess, since you were the one to bite Laura.”

“That’s… One way to look at it, I guess…” Max pondered. 

“Kaitlyn!”

The screech of her name brought all their attention towards the direction of the lodge, greeted by the sight of everyone piling out onto the balcony. Abi was front and center, having been the first to see her — and yell out her name — pausing for a moment to wave jovially down at her before everyone was scurrying down the stairs.

“Uh oh, prepare your ribs, Kaitlyn,” Dylan warned her, already turning towards the others. “Make way for group hug two-point-oh.”

“‘Two-point-oh’? When was the first--” Kaitlyn doesn’t get to finish her sentence before being engulfed, the pressure all around her making her realize that maybe she should have heeded Dylan’s warning. 

Everyone held onto each other, Jacob wisely choosing to be in the part of the group hug that was as far away from Ryan as possible, not quite ready to test his boundaries just yet… Dylan peeked his head out of the hug to look over to where Max and Laura were standing, gesturing to the pile with a flick of his head. “You guys are counselors too, you know. You’re more than welcome to join.”

Laura raised an eyebrow at the display in front of her. “Uh, I don’t think--”

“Sweet, I’ll take a group hug,” Max decided for them, grabbing hold of Laura’s arm and tugging her with him into the hug, easily slotting in with the others. 

It’s as they were beginning to separate that Travis steps out of the car, the sound of the car door slamming closed behind him forcing their gaze over to him. Max nervously glanced between the sheriff and Laura, unsure whether to be pleased to see him for, well, being part of helping keep Laura alive, or whether to still be pissed. Which is why perhaps he resorts to making a joke that would break the tension somewhat, holding out a hand as if to invite Travis into the hug. “T-Money--”

“Absolutely not.” Travis shut that down very quickly, looking rather unimpressed as his gaze slides over all of them. “Is this everyone? Every counselor accounted for?”

“Somehow, yes,” Kaitlyn says. 

Travis nods, some of the tension in his posture relaxing at the news. “Okay, uh… good. That’s good. Now, I want you kids to get back into the lodge and stay there, alright? It won’t be long before backup arrives to take care of you guys.”

“Um, no offense, sir—” Emma said, hand held up as she spoke. “—But hearing ‘take care of you guys’ from a cop makes it sound like you’re going to take us out back and like… put a bullet in our heads or something.”

“What? No, that’s—” Travis sighed deeply, wiping a hand across his face. “I’m not going to lie to you kids, there’s going to be a lot of questions they’ll want answered. Now, I’ll do my best to answer them for you, but they’re still going to want to hear from you guys, okay? Not even I have the power to just… get you off the hook. But I’ll do what I can to ensure you all get home. That… That they see you’re all innocent in this.”

“...Even if it means putting your head on the chopping block?” Laura asks. 

Travis looks over to her, eyes solemn as he slowly nods his head. “Even if it means putting my head on the chopping block,” he repeats quietly. “My family’s mess is my mess too. You guys should never have been dragged into it. And you sure as hell shouldn’t have to be the ones to help me clear it up.”

Everyone remained quiet, all still huddled together as they looked at Travis. Travis sighed quietly, looking down to the floor before forcing his gaze back up. “There, uh… There shouldn’t be anything left that’ll be a danger to you guys anymore, but for safety's sake, you all should stay together in the lodge. Keep an eye out for each other whilst I go and search for my nephew out there–"

“You’re Chris’s brother, right?” Ryan speaks up. Travis raises an eyebrow at the unexpected interruption, but nods his head in response to the question. “Caleb’s uncle?” Ryan adds on. 

“Have you seen him?” Travis asks, something akin to hope daring to catch light in his eyes. But that hope is quickly doused by the sorrowful emptiness reflected back at him from Ryan’s, already knowing what was coming next before Ryan even said it. 

“I’m sorry,” Ryan says, swallowing harshly past the lump in his throat. “He forced his way in, and… and I had to…”

Travis’s shoulder slumped, posture deflating as he sank in on himself. His head dropped down, eyes sliding shut as he shook his head side to side. “Goddammit… Fuck! We were… We were so damn close… Curse is over and for fucking what, I…” Travis looked back up, eyes glossy with unshed tears as he stared blankly past the counselors and out into the forest. “Where… Where is he?”

“In the lodge,” Ryan answered softly, looking unsure as to whether the sheriff would start to direct his anger at him. Kaitlyn could tell from Dylan’s protective grip around Ryan’s shoulders that he wouldn’t be alone in the fight if he did. 

“You… You did what you had to. I get that,” Travis muttered, allowing them to relax somewhat. “I uh… I just… Need a minute to…” Travis got out in a daze, dejectedly making his way toward the lodge. They all watched him go, no one daring to speak a word before he was through the doors and out of earshot. 

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I actually feel kind of bad for him,” Laura admits, the first of them to break the silence. “His mom, dad, brothers, nieces, and nephews… All gone in one night. He’s the only Hackett left.”

“Jesus Christ…” Ryan muttered. Dylan’s protective grip turned into a comforting one, pulling Ryan further into his side. 

“Could we… Maybe focus on the positives and not… that?” Nick asked, accent as thick as usual and Kaitlyn was delighted to see completely normal ‘Nick’ eyes glancing between the group and not the bloodshot, yellow ones she had last seen of him. 

“I think I can do that, given last time I saw you, you were…” Kaitlyn trailed off, looking Nick up and down. 

Nick managed the tiniest of smiles. “Yeah… Not exactly myself. I, um… I’m sorry for… telling you to fuck off…”

“You were part way through transforming into a werewolf. You’ve got a pretty good excuse,” Kaitlyn replied in one of the weirdest ways of accepting someone's apology. “I’m just glad to see you’re okay.”

Nick shot her a tired-looking smile. “Right back at you.”

Kaitlyn moved her gaze over to Jacob. “So… You found your way back then?”

“Just about. Picked up this straggler on the way.” Jacob ruffled at Nick’s hair, who didn’t look much pleased with the display of ‘affection’. 

“Knock it off, man--” Nick grumbled, swatting Jacob’s bear paws away.

Kaitlyn rolled her eyes at the display of… whatever it is that boys do to show they care about each other, apparently. “Well, I’m glad to see you decided not to try and be a hero or an idiot,” she said, calling back to their earlier conversation by the cages. Ryan very much looked like he wanted to say something about that, but Dylan’s gentle squeeze around his shoulders kept him quiet. 

“It’s amazing we’re all still alive…” Abi said, sounding genuinely amazed by her realization. 

“Yeah… Anyone else get the feeling it could have gone a lot worse?” Emma asks.

“For sure,” Dylan agreed. “I could have lost both hands.”

Ryan looked up at Dylan, completely baffled. “How… would that even happen?”

“I dunno. I get bit, you cut off my hand, and then another werewolf bites my other hand, and you have to amputate that one too,” Dylan explains like it was obvious.

“That’d be some bad luck,” Max comments. 

“Those traps I kept stepping into could have really fucked me up,” Jacob threw in his own woes. 

“If Kaitlyn hadn’t stopped me, I could have shot whoever was in that cage,” Laura offers. 

“Yeah, that was Nick,” Jacob informs her.

Nick blinks in surprise. “Wait, what--”

“I could have fucked up using the crane and got Ryan bit,” Dylan says. 

“Crane--?” Kaitlyn tries to say, but is cut off by Emma.

“Max could have eaten me in the tree house. And not in the good way.”

It’s not much of a surprise that everyone falls silent after that one. 

“What… the hell are we doing?” Kaitlyn asks.

“Processing our trauma, if I were to guess,” Dylan answers with a shrug of his shoulders.

“There’s a part of me that still can’t quite believe it’s really over,” said Ryan. “This whole night… This whole nightmare… It’s finally over.”

The shrill of sirens pierces through the air, breaking the momentary peace of the morning. They were quiet, but steadily getting louder and louder as who they could only assume were more cops headed their way down to Hackett’s Quarry Summer Camp, and to the massacre that awaited them. 

“Well… that nightmare’s over…” Kaitlyn said. Just through the trees, she could see the flashing red, white, and blue lights, something that would have brought them comfort to see earlier tonight now bringing a sense of dread. “…And now a new one begins…”

[silvergomez]

House Of Ashes : Trip To The Zoo 4

August 16 pm

Salim: Our Lady and now my god?

Salim: If I go down Will I die?

*explosion time*

salim: It must be a sign that I must stay here in the tree for a few more years, or centuries.

*other side*

Jason: What is that noise?

Merwin: you still ask? And just one more explosion In this place, I never thought Working in the army Was so tiring

Rachel: you haven't done anything since you joined!

Merwin: ah yes, but doing exercises is also tiring so it's still worth it....

Nick: And what do we do with Clarice passed out?

Merwin: Let me carry her, I'll show you that doing those exercises was worth it....

Jason: Go stallion!

*Merwin Holds Clarice on her back with ease*

Nick: Oh didn't he really tell the truth?

Merwin: I may even be "useless" in your view But I have a lot of capacity OK?

Jason: okay guys just let's go!

*the ground starts to shake*

Rachel: What is that?

nick: It must be a final fight with a Game Boss

Jason: are you serious?

Nick: No, but it could be too.....

Jason: Tabom, But where are joey and the colonel?

Joey: We're here!

Rachel: Where were you?

Joey: We were seeing animals!! Super incredible!

Merwin: Uh? Hello? Earth to joey! WE ARE IN A ZOO APOCALYPSE

Eric: We are aware....

*final blast*

Eric: what is it-

Dar: BEHOLD THE KING OF THE LIONS!

Nick; So he's the final boss?

Joey: Without wanting to end His time... king of lions but we already have A king here who is Eric...

Dar: IS THIS BLONDE A KING? DON'T MAKE ME LAUGH CHILD!

joey: Child? Oh really? I'll Even Drink a Monster After This

Eric: WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM? WANT A WAR?

Dar: No darling! I already won this war! You are at a disadvantage!

Joey: we are Seven! six Actually... Clarice is passed out...

Joey: And you are only one! and even if you count your lions, there are only 2 there together! Or is your mother's whale there too?

Merwin: this was good!

Joey: I learned from you, Bitch!

Merwin: That's how it's done!

DAR: HOW DO YOU DARE?

Joey: Shut up Bitch!

*Throws a brick at Dar*

*Dar falls to the ground*

Rachel: I think this one died!

Nick: And now?

Jason: Let's run away!

Eric: It's almost dusk already! it's already 17 pm

Rachel: Yes! Let's go before we get killed by some bug!

Nick: And those lions?

Merwin: We can't take them, can we? they might not be eating us right now, but it must be because they're not hungry...

Jason: UHR....SO LET'S GET THE FUCKING OUT OF HERE

*Some minutes later*

Eric: So ready to go home?

Joey: We are not children!

Eric: so let's go!

*Driving the bus*

Nick: Wow it's going to rain tonight

Joey: After what happened today do you want to care about it?

Nick: I don't really know, I just thought it was cute....

joey: ;-;

Eric: Jeez fuck!

*Losing control of the bus*

Eric; Everyone hang in there!

*crashes the Bus and explodes*

*meanwhile elsewhere*

Salim: I don't know if I should leave....Damn..

Salim: I will try to get down....

*slips on one of the branches of the tree, falling and breaking his neck*

The end💥

[tempenensis]

Jujutsu Kaisen Light Novel #2

Firstly, @bonsai62​ provides me with raw text of this - so thank you very much! This is the first eight pages of the first chapter from the second light novel. That being said, I don’t know how much I get this translation right, but enjoy anyway. Though this is cut at bad point lol

The title of the light novel is Thorny Road at Dawn. Text in bold means that it is spoken in English. 

Chapter 1: Nobara and Toge

.

“About Toge?”

August has begun.

Under the overlapping form of trees in the schoolyard, Panda asks back to Kugisaki who he has been holding on his arm and turning over 180 degree.

For the upcoming exchange event, Fushiguro is also working hard to train as participating first year.

He is in the middle of training with assumption that one-vs-one sorcerer combat can break especially during the fight.

Even though she is training, Kugisaki is now thrown towards Panda – repeatedly thrown towards him in a stage. But because it seems that her motivation is high, she’s become into it, as long as in the end she can be successful facing Todo and Mai even just a little bit.

“Yes. I understand Maki-san is worth of my respect. I also know that Panda-senpai is sorcerer with ability.”

“I also want you to say the same thing about me like Maki.”

Kugisaki answers as she stands up and brushes away leaves attached to her jersey.

“I respect you. I’m not saying bullshit about Panda-san.” (1)

“Well, if you become able to chat while being blown away, I’ll praise you.”

“My body can easily remember just blown like this.”

“Hooon. Then”

Panda looks around, confirming that Toge who went to pharmacy has not come back.

“What about Toge?”

“What kind of senpai is he?”

“Eh, you don’t know from talking to him?”

“Not that I don’t understand. Well, I know he is not a bad person, but if all his vocabularies are riceball fillings, talking with him will be limited, right?”

“We already get too used to it, right Maki?”

“Aah. Now that you say it, it naturally becomes question.”

Maki is spinning around a staff, sending a sympathetic look to Fushiguro after she lightly avoids Fushiguro’s attack and land a small hit on his head.

“It hurts…”

“You are thinking too much again with your head.”

Maki joins the conversation as she glances at groaning Fushiguro. Out of breath but clean of dust, she circles around Panda calmly.

“Among us maybe he is the best at taking care.”

“Yeah, he has a bright personality (2). If you exclude Yuuta, then he is the number one good person in our year.”

“His flaw is that he can get carried away a little.” (3)

“Is he?”

“You are the one who always get carried away when we are together, that’s why you don’t know.”

“That’s unexpected. We are not like that though. We like to join in the fun.”

Kugisaki’s body fitness is finally reaching that point where she can chat while doing her training. Even then, the second years who are lightly talking among them without difficulty remembers existence of Kugisaki of August (4) in the nearby stage.

Just a bit when Panda’s attention is at Maki as they converse, Kugisaki tries to do a feint from the side and mixes it with an upper but—

“Anyway.”

“Geh.”

Panda sways easily, then he hesitates a little before swipe Kugisaki’s feet in sobat-like (5) kick.

Kugisaki, whose pivot foot collapses, falls down rolling. Her body becomes totally irresponsive. In several weeks here, it’s a movement that she kept thought she could do.

That said she becomes irresponsive and she can’t win the match.

As he looks down at Kugisaki who makes a discouraged face, Panda opens his mouth.

“Toge is a good guy. That alone you should know.”

“….I see.”

More than that, her body has become irresponsive and her back is hurting.

The frequency of her falling down sloppily has not reduced, also buying a replacement jersey have also becomes necessary -- Kugisaki at summer time thinks with melancholy.

.---.

The story continues when it has turn to fall.

After the incident of Yasohachi has passed, there’s a brief spare time.

At that day, Kugisaki is alone in Shibuya.

Fushiguro is locking himself up and reading in his room as he is still exhausted after he overexerted himself.

Itadori has gone out to watch a maniac movie in a cinema currently doing a whole-building screening.

Maki is currently on a mission different from Yasohachi bridge, so she can’t meet her conveniently in a while. Kugisaki who completely doesn’t have a plan, aims to go shopping to make-up and clothes shops which are hard to go with boys, then buy daily necessities.

“Winter clothes set, winter shoes, inner and foundation and…”

Grasping paper bags in both hands, she lifts them up as she confirms her haul today.

She doesn’t think she bought too much, but she has walked more than she had planned. Maybe wearing the pin heel boots she bought the other day is a bit mistake.

But it is a rare chance that she gets to go out and shop alone. There’s a lot she still needs to buy.

Kugisaki is thinking to go looking for bags next as she walks in traffic jam.

When she had just arrived in Tokyo, it all seemed to be glittering scenery. After around three months has passed, she gets used to it a lot, used to hearing noisy sounds.

That being said, it is a backside of being busy and lively. It’s a thing that’s called taste of convenience.

“And that, it is really a masterpiece.”

“Doesn’t it make you angry?”

“Hey, hey. Girl, are you alone? Are you free?”

“I’m in a hurry.”

“Salmon.”

“We’re opening a new shop! Please take care of us.”

“Are you not going to eat?”

“How much are you going to eat?!”

“It’s damned boring, how about we skip work today?”

“Mama, buy me that!”

A lot of voices. It’s an intersection where a lot of life collides.

There are daily life as many as the number of people, there are worlds as many as the number of people. In the city where many wills and voices flying around, of course there will be a lot of people who is feeling gloomy – but not Kugisaki.

For her who has a firm sense of self, she understands that everyone has their own way of living in the hustle bustle of the city, it even feels like a kindness.

Now that she thinks about it, the village where she comes from was suffocating.

An exclusivity that imitate the people who had come before (6). An ecosystem long existed that doesn’t recognize individuality of a person. A closed world that gently rot — exists there in that village, Kugisaki thinks.

Compared to the crowd of the city, it is tough yet she can live with freedom.

In the city, someone says that the concern towards other people is weak. Kugisaki laughs, thinking that is wonderful. She has her own way and won’t blame anyone over it. She will stand and walk with her own foot.

However, mixing in the city crowd during the holiday, a mysterious chance can happen.

“Hm?”

Kugisaki who walks towards the direction of Shibuya Hikarie (7) in the lane across the street, makes a face of remembering something as she found him. It is the only one of her acquittances who hides lower half of mouth with closed overly long collar.

It’s Inumaki Toge.

There is also another one. A male foreign tourist with thoughtful blue eyes who can’t be someone familiar. Kugisaki becomes interested on the exchange between the foreigner and Inumaki.

“What are they talking about?”

Kugisaki changes her destination, then crosses the road when the traffic lamp changes at the right timing, and strolls towards Inumaki. When she is near them, she overhears their talk.

“I’d like to go to SHIBUYA109.” (8)

“Salmon salmon.”

“Could you tell me where I can get a taxi?”

“Salmon roe.”

“Ah… Which way should we go?”

“Seaweed.”

“Ah…I, want to go. 109 (9). Please. Ok?”

“Salmon.”

“Shake?” (10)

“….Salmon?” (11)

“….Salmon!? Why?”

“Okaka…..” (12)

“Ee…?”

For some reason, in Kugisaki’s guess ten times over, it has become a troublesome situation.

She knows that Inumaki, who is a cursed speech user, only speaks in onigiri fillings to avoid sudden outburst of curse. How come that he is asked by foreigner tourist for direction.

No, Inumaki can use Inumaki’s way of showing the way – he points his finger and gestures using his body and hands. With that, she wonders if the foreigner becomes impatient (13) as Kugisaki decides to get in between the two of them.

“What are you doing, senpai?”

“Tunamayo.”

“It can’t be ‘tunamayo’. Jeez.”

“Oh! Geisha girl!”

“Who the heck is geisha girl?!”

.

.

--- tbc (hopefully can do more)

(1) More literally, she is saying things about Panda that “doesn’t smell like fairy tale” (2) “His root is bright” is the literal translation (3) 悪ノリ (akunori) is a bit hard to be translated. It’s like, getting carried away in mischievous manner. (4) Overheated Kugisaki lol (5) Sobat : back kick in wrestling (6) literally “To follow the right” (7) A skyscraper in Shibuya (8) A department store in Shibuya (9) Spoken in broken Japanese lol. (10) Shake = salmon. He repeats what Toge said to him. In Inumaki’s language means “yes” (11) Salmon, as in engrish lol (12) Okaka = chopped katsuobushi, in Inumaki’s language means “no” (13) literally, “becomes hot”