#last month i was able to accumulate enough savings from collectively work and also other stuff

[hakusins]

(vent in the tags) me thinking i've finally escaped financial problems: :DDDDD

life:

[phoenotopia]

The Last Phoenotopia Blog Update

(Date 2021 MAR 01)

I debated how to open this blog post, but perhaps the main crux of this blog post is the best place to start. The blog is being retired.

The purpose of this blog was to be a "development" blog for Phoenotopia, and well, Phoenotopia's development is done. I'll still be doing bug fixes and maintenance on the PC and Switch versions, and playstation and xbox ports are underway (by a publisher). But I'm not going to be making any more major changes to the game. At some point, you put the paintbrush down and say it's done. Blemishes and all.

Recent Events

The game launched on Steam last month, and like any launch, it was hectic. Bugs Galore. This is our first commercial PC launch, so it was a real baptism by fire. Unlike Switch's one configuration, the PC has multiple configurations and factors to account for. The game needed to be able to handle multiple control schemes, screen resolutions, refresh rates, and more! I had a 60Hz monitor going into launch and didn't know anything about Hz (I do now). There was a troublesome stutter that some players were sensitive to that my whole team didn't notice since our eyes compensated it away. There were a few times where in fixing something at one party's behest, it introduced problems for another party. A few times, due to disorganization, I unwittingly rolled back a fix that was meant to be applied. For some, the game couldn't play at all (really glad Steam allows refunds).

It was messy. It was tiring. I.AM.BEAT.

I think the worst of it is over... I'll still be around to do the last updates and bug fixes, but I'm ultimately ready for what's next.

SO what is next?

What isn't next... is Phoenotopia 2. As you may have heard down the grapevine, the game couldn't be what you call successful. No one's earned even minimum wage on it.

Maybe there's hope in the game's long tail. A year or two down the line... maybe. I won't hold my breath though. At some point in the past few months, I finished processing (or grieving) and it's time to move on.

The game has at least earned enough for us to continue our modest operations. As long as we don't expand the team, and we don't take another monster six-year dev cycle like what Phoenotopia took, we can continue. We'll have to be smarter and faster. Perhaps the most valuable thing we gained from all this is experience.

The Experience

It is a dev blog. Here are some of the lessons I've accumulated from this game's development.

- Have a good menu design. Menus aren't just that in-between fluff before you get to the good stuff. Menus are KEY. Your menus need to be robust, expandable, and *understandable* (to you, the developer). Because once the game's out, you will invariably be asked to add more options. And if your menu design is bad, every time you have to add a new menu option, it becomes a whole new pain all over again. Support mouse from the get-go, etc.

- Focus on features that people will actually care about. For instance, I've never seen anyone praise the camera's zoom feature. In practice, people try that feature a few times and then never use it again. But that feature was a constant consideration factor for every level. Run through it multiple times to make sure the level didn't break, think about which zoom levels made sense, resize rooms because they worked at one zoom level but not the other, and so on.

- Don't do boxes that you can move around. Other 2D platformers avoid movable boxes because they're a huge headache to program and they really complicate the game space. Enemies need to respond to boxes you throw in their path and either navigate around or attack it. When you're moving the box, you have to worry about constantly changing your collision size and reconciling when the box gets snagged on the environment. The boxes were also a constant source of bugs because people can manipulate them to soft-lock themselves and more.

- More focused script. Phoenotopia's 100,000+ word script was panned more for being bloated than it was praised for being lengthy. Long scripts take a long time to write and make the game more unwieldy, increasing the costs of translation and upkeep. Every update we're addressing some textual error or mistranslation. There are some highly renowned games (e.g. Hyper Light Drifter) that do without a script at all!

- Be flashy! A bat and a lightsaber take the same amount of work to program, but the lightsaber will draw a lot more attention and interest.

- Slopes, surprisingly! Six years ago when I started, Unity was ill-equipped for 2D games. If you used the physics that Unity provided you'd have a really floaty character that wouldn't adhere to the slope when going downhill. There were a hundred different tutorials saying different things (use forces, use move position, use translation, etc). You can get rectangular collisions done in a day, but to do slopes took weeks. Meanwhile, games can actually get by fine without slopes. Most people won't even notice. Did you know the Phoenotopia flash game didn't have slopes? Neither does Hollow Knight or Rogue Legacy. You can save yourself a lot of work by avoiding slopes.

(big entities look weird on slopes. Bad slope!)

I could write enough little knowledge nuggets like this to fill a book! But I'd rather just make the next game. 

So… what IS next?

As mentioned previously, it's not Phoenotopia 2. Pirate and I are mostly just tossing some ideas back and forth right now. We'll go silent for a year (or two). Our next game's scope will be more modest in some ways, more ambitious in others. It will definitely be more smartly designed. (There will be a map!)

We'll announce it when it's ready for the public. It might be necessary for us to do a kickstarter. I've tried to avoid kickstarters having been burnt on quite a few myself and also because I worry that mismanaging a kickstarter would earn the ire of backers.

But I did keep this blog regularly updated for six years. So I've gained some confidence in my abilities to at least manage a kickstarter well.

Is it really the last Phoenotopia Blog update though?

Okay, not really. There is some news that I'll need to announce, and this blog is one of the game's main outreach channels. Here are the events that will cause me to update the blog:

Announcing the launch of the xbox/playstation ports when they're ready

If a physical edition of the game happens

If a new language is getting introduced into the game (Korean is a high possibility)

When we're ready to talk about our next game

If (BIG IF) we begin development on a Phoenotopia sequel. I do want to do a sequel one day if we have the means and the demand is there. 

Those updates will be more on a "when they happen" basis, rather than me reporting in every couple months.

Fan Art

As always, I'm very happy to see fanart of Phoenotopia. Major thanks again to Pimez for collecting all the artwork from the corners of the internet! Since this is the "last" blogpost, Sir Pimez can finally take a rest from collecting the fanart :P

ÆV made a series of pictures that tell a story. A Pooki is humanely sheared of its wool to create a hat. The Pooki is unharmed. Nice! Gotta love Gail’s expressions.

Amagoo Mazeru makes a stunning landscape shot of a full moon and shooting stars. It’s a sharp and clear vector art. I like the faint glow of the moon and the fire and the subtle gradient in the night sky. Very skillfully done!

Hah hah. I got a chuckle out of this one. I imagine this is how Gail's enemies see her by the end of the game. CaESar made this image based on TerminalMontage's famous youtube videos. Nailed it!

CrownStar drew two pictures of Gail. I'm a big player of JRPGs, so the first shot instantly reminded me of Persona 4's art style. (Hmmm... Phoeonotopia as a JRPG... there’s potential there...) Next, Birdy is shown carried off after her defeat. I really like Birdy's expression here - she just seems mildly uncomfortable.

There's a bit of a story behind the first image. As Firanka shares it, she wasn't able to defeat the Big Eye monster at the end of the flash game, so she believed a tall tale that what awaited after was a 6 armed Kobold boss. Hilarious! The second is a rendition of the lonely Anuri elder. A rare subject. The loneliness is portrayed well here. I feel lonely just looking at it!

Koo_chop draws the clash between Gail and Katash at the top of the towers. I really like this interpretation of the game's art style. It’s faithful to the in-game graphics. And the lighting, from the glow of Gail's bat, to Katash's sword, and the lightning in the background... Amazing!

Lime Hazard shows Gail with a salute pose. Very appropriate for this occasion. I also like how there's a slight tilt in the angle that Gail is portrayed. Those dynamic angles are always hard to get right, and Lime Hazard pulled it off very skillfully. See you next mission!

Lyoung0J with a digital painting of Gail posed sitting on a rock. I like how it almost seems like she was caught in a candid moment - she’s smiling, but also feeling self-conscious. Cute! The art style really pops, and I like how Gail is sporting what I call the old anime style nose. 

MyUesrNameIsSh*t with a sketch of Gail performing a skillful slingshot. I like how Gail is depicted with her tongue out in a mischievous manner, the way all mischievous people with slingshots do.

Niitsu Kentaro returns with a 2021 Happy New Year picture. That happened didn't it? A New Year... Gail's pose gave me a chuckle with how she seems to be waving the bat around as casually as one would wave hello. And "Phoenotopiyear"... Well said! One day we'll have our Phoenotopiyear...

Ochan Nu breaks all records with a stunning NINE pictures in one session :O

There's so many goodies here. My favorite would be the one with Gail staring intently at the screen - it's like she's looking directly at you. You almost feel uncomfortable.

Next, there's an Animal Crossing villager dressed as Gail and sporting her pink hair. It even looks like a house Gail would live in. Gail is a connoisseur of the arts and likes Mona Lisa. Yes :)

There are various comics of Gail pointing out Gail's weird food habits. A picture of Fran looking really cool, and even Gail rocking a bathing suit. (bathing suit image linked here in case NSFW). Wow!

Pimez didn't just collect the arts, he creates them as well! This one, which he aptly named 'The Year 175' is a depiction of when the dragons invaded the towers as told by an elderly Daean woman. Great pixeling skills! I got a good chuckle from the ice dragon leaving with its stuff slung over its shoulder.

Quo made a stunning picture of Gail playing the flute surrounded by the 5 musical notes and the Phoenix logo behind her. The theme seems to be "fire" and it works really well. Gail herself looks awesome depicted in her red suit - it's like she's leading a marching band!

Rai Asuha depicts Gail in the late game with her red suit, and night star bat, and holding a lamp. She looks ready for adventure! I really like the white outline here and Gail's poofy shoulders here - the art style feels reminiscent of Final Fantasy Tactics.

Seri also draws Gail bearing her late game equipment. Unique to Seri's drawing is how all of Gail's equipment is accessible from a pocket on her shirt. I also like how Gail is depicted with her lucky earrings - that accessory is often forgotten.

Treedude depicts Gail with a bat and wearing a funny smirk. She looks like she's ready to hurt someone!

Warotar returns with everyone's favorite Great Drake, Bubbles! It seems so happy to be featured!

I'm really grateful for all the fanart this game has received. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!

Closing Notes

Pirate drew a picture to mark the occasion. It shows Gail enjoying a hot chocolate with marshmallows and a pumpkin muffin. A rest well-earned...

Goodbye! Until next time!

[miraculousmarifan]

Felinette Month 2020 - Day 24: Huntress

Happy @felinettenovember! This was a last minute decision to do a little rewrite of a version of Snow White, at least to a certain point. Hopefully I will have enough motivation to finish the partially written ones tonight so you lovely readers can have four tonight!

Around 1700 words

When Felix found himself running through the woods, he regretted letting his father talk him into staying at home with his mother. His father had gone to the neighboring kingdom to discuss the terms of a trade agreement. Rather than bringing his wife, he allowed her to stay and watch over the castle and their children. His older sisters were betrothed to princes from other kingdoms, meant to be wed in the upcoming months, while his fate was not yet determined. He thought it was unreasonable for their mother to hold this against him when he was not yet of age, however during his father’s absences, she would find every reason to torment him. While he wanted to study quietly in his room or practice with his sword, she would find every reason for him to accompany her or his sisters on distasteful errands, clean whatever room or item was most disgusting (often the horse stables, despite their having a groom to care for them), or act as the practice dummy for his sisters’ self-defense lessons. There also seemed to be a disproportionate amount of “accidents” resulting in his being injured. It was not uncommon for him to have bruises just out of sight when his father returned from these trips.

On this day, he was sent out with his sisters to collect some flower that he had never heard of. As the girls rode their horses, he was forced to walk because their mother claimed his horse “needed to be rested for tomorrow’s task” and it would be too much for it. When they reached the river, he suggested they move up the river where it would be shallower. The girls insisted that they would be fine to cross and immediately started across. The horses managed it, though the water reached the girls’ legs. Felix tried to yell across that he was finding a shallower area, but the girls simply rode on without him.

He ran further up the river, finding a spot that he could sort of swim across without being pushed too far downstream, however it didn’t matter, as his sisters were long gone. He listened for a moment, noting how quiet the forest seemed to be. He determined that the beating from coming back without the flower or his sisters would still be a better alternative to being stuck out in the forest overnight. Instead he turned back in the direction he expected to be home.

Felix didn’t notice the pair of eyes following him, bow drawn. The huntress hesitated, despite having been paid to get rid of the prince. The entire afternoon thus far he had followed those girls without verbal complaint and only protested the situation when crossing the rivers. It seemed a shame that a young man like him was meant to be killed. She knew she needed to dispose of him, she wouldn’t be paid the bounty, two hundred gold coins, unless she brought back evidence of his demise. Additionally the queen was oddly specific about what she wanted as proof, some of the boy’s hair, a vial of his blood, and his heart. It made her skin crawl but those coins would make it possible for her family to move out of this kingdom, to one that actually could treat her father’s illness. They could afford a small house and be able to pay for food for at least a year, at least at the rates one of the traveling merchants had described to her. Those coins were the difference between their family dying, now that their land had been seized to pay for their recent debt. She took a deep breath and made her decision.

An arrow sunk into a tree near Felix’s head. He jumped, whirling around in a panic, before turning and running. It no longer mattered if he was running towards the castle, he simply needed to escape his attacker. Unfortunately the rush of adrenaline did not help his coordination and he tripped on a tree root. He stumbled to get up, hearing swiftly approaching footsteps, and tried to move quickly but more cautiously. As he ran, the trees grew thicker and he had to slow down more to maneuver. He gasped for air, trying to figure out if he could hide somewhere in the trees, before spotting an area of woods with thick bushes. He quickly dropped to his hands and knees to crawl into the bushes. The blood rushing in his ears disguised the footsteps following him. He was almost entirely under the bush when he felt something tug his ankle back.

Felix fell on his face when his other ankle was tugged as well. He tried to claw forward and attempted to get his knees back under himself with each successive yank. Finally he found himself being scratched up by the bush and unable to move forward from the stranger.

“Stop struggling! This will be much easier if you cooperate!” a girl’s voice demanded angrily. He froze, confused by the high voice. She tugged his legs again and he was pulled slightly closer.

“Wait! I’ll crawl out. Please don’t do that again. Just let me get on my hands and knees again,” he pleaded with a wince at the scrapes he was accumulating. She released her grip and he quickly pulled his legs under himself to back out. His legs were still shaking from the run and he turned to sit facing her when he got out from under the bush.

The girl in front of him had dark hair and intense blue eyes, as well as a bow at her back. He guessed she was near his age, though it was difficult to tell with how tired she looked. His mouth opened to say something but he wasn’t quite sure what to say. She spoke first.

“Just listen. The queen wants you dead. She’s got a bounty on your head. You need to disappear. Before you go though, I’m going to cut off some of your hair so she might be satisfied.” She stepped towards him and Felix tried to scramble back, only to feel his back press into the sharp branches of the bushes. She grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the base of a tree.

“Don’t worry. I just need the hair, not your head. You have to disappear once I’m done though. There’s a clearing that way,” she gestured with her hand and a nod, “where a family lives. They are rather generous and often house travelers for a few nights. If you ask politely, they may even help you get to a nearby town and you can start over. Now stay still while I cut your hair.”

Felix took deep breaths, trying to stay still and calm at the information she was giving him. She retrieved a knife from a bag at her hip and reached a hand out towards him. He flinched but let her touch his head. She gently pulled a chunk of hair away from his face before running the blade across the strands.

“It’s a shame that this needs to be done. You have lovely hair,” she mumbled as she cut chunks from his hair. She worked quickly without tugging on his hair painfully. Soon she had him turn so she could cut near the back. 

He stayed silent as she worked.

“There! I tried to straighten it out a little, so at least you won’t look like too much of a ruffian. As long as you follow my directions and head directly that way towards the clearing, you should be able to get help. Remember, you are not the prince anymore. You don’t know anything. Come up with a new name and start over. If you could get to a different kingdom, you’d be safest. I’m leaving now.” She scooped up a bunch of his hair, put it in a smaller pouch of her bag, then turned and started to walk through the forest. Felix felt fear grip him and let out a strangled noise before he could speak.

“Why would you help me?” he called after her. She stopped and glanced over her shoulder.

“It doesn’t seem fair to cut your life short. I’ve never heard a bad word about you from the servants.” She continued on her way. He stood and watched her until the trees obscured his view. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. It wasn’t as smooth as when he had it cut by his barber but it was at least sort of smooth. He decided it was in his best interest to listen to the mysterious girl. He also felt somewhat glad that the clothes he had chosen to wear for this errand were not as decadent as most of his. With the dirt and fresh tears, he thought it could be feasible that he was simply a traveler. He thought of what the girl had said as he trudged on, hoping he would reach this family before nightfall.

Meanwhile the huntress headed towards an area she had left wild pig traps earlier in the week, before this job came up. An idea had hatched but it depended heavily on whether or not she had a pig to kill. As she approached her closest trap, she heard the sounds of exhausted struggling and knew they were in luck. She put the animal out of its misery and set about getting the necessary parts for the queen.

The queen waited for a message from the huntress late that night. Her daughters had returned, saying that they had lost Felix when crossing the river. He hadn’t returned and the servants assumed it was with worry for her youngest child. Close to midnight, the signal was given and she slipped out into the royal groves. The girl gave her two pouches and a vial, which the queen checked the contents of in the moonlight before passing a pouch with the agreed on price. The two separated and the queen retreated to a hidden room of the castle, rather than her bedchambers.

As the queen set out the ingredients necessary for her spell, she couldn’t help but think about what a fair deal she was getting to remove an illegitimate son from their home, saving the purity of the throne. All that was left of her plan was to make the potion necessary for her to conceive a son in place of this boy. She had to stop herself from humming as she worked.

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: 【掌中流光】 Xia Yan’s Light in Palms Date Translation

--

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist

Video: https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV1nX4y1u7XA/

Because the timing of this date story is New Year’s Eve, I aimed to have it finished and posted for today (i.e. our New Year’s Eve). Happy New Year, everyone! Hoping that 2021 will be much better!

PART 1

Xia Yan’s House

Today was the last day on the calendar. 

As the first New Year’s Eve after my reunion with Xia Yan, we had originally made a chock-full travel plan - but before we were about to set out, Xia Yan suddenly received a command to return to the capital, and didn’t return until last night. Because I didn’t want Xia Yan to be travel-worn again, I decided on staying at home for a leisurely New Year’s Eve – a day spent playing games! A night spent feasting! Going at zero-o’clock to see the New Year’s Eve fireworks show!

Although, when we put this “Leisurely New Year’s Eve Plan” into action, it wasn’t very leisurely…

Xia Yan: Right side! The enemy went over there!

MC: Where where?! I can’t see it!

In a panic, I manipulated the video game controller to adjust my viewing angle, but I didn’t see anything at all.

Bang bang bang— A barrage of gunshot sounds suddenly started. My blood meter started losing blood crazily, just like a water pipe that had exploded.

MC: Ahhh! My blood meter’s in the red!

Xia Yan: Give it to me!

I immediately stuffed the controller into Xia Yan’s hands, but he hadn’t even received it firmly when my view went grey. My character had fallen in battle.

MC: …

MC: This is too much… 

Xia Yan and I attempted to refresh our save points from eight years ago. We were clearly able to co-op smoothly before, with flashing lights announcing our clears, yet we were actually on a losing streak today! Discouraged, I threw aside the controller, then reclined backwards into the beanbag chair.

Xia Yan: Don’t be discouraged – we haven’t played this for several years. It’s natural to be out of practice.

Xia Yan: How about we go through our save points for the casual games?

MC: That’s fine… I need to play some easy, refreshing casual games to restore my spirit.

Xia Yan: Then you can go ahead and pick a game. I’ll go wash some apples – after eating them, we’ll play!

MC: Mhmm!

While Xia Yan washed the apples, I flipped through his box of game hard drives.

MC: Xia Yan – why are there only a little over ten games in your box? What about the others?

Xia Yan: There in the other box, on the shelf on the right side of the computer – feel free to look there.

I searched in the spot that Xia Yan had mentioned. Sure enough, I noticed several boxes - the box in the corner of the lowest shelf looked particularly exquisite. Looking at the dust that had accumulated on the wood box, it had been placed there for at least several months.

MC: This box is so pretty… and it’s fairly heavy!

I carefully took the box and opened the lid – there was a bottle of sealed foreign liquor inside. The transparent glass in a rectangular column shape was filled with an amber liquid and the yellowing wine label on the bottle had English and numbers handwritten on it. 

MC: Why is the wine label handwritten? “Whisky”… it’s whiskey, right?

There was also a note beside the wine bottle. The paper had a firm texture, with a tall-stemmed wineglass and a curlicue letter “L” stamped at the top. There was neat, beautiful handwriting on the memo – looking at the writing, it was written by the same writer of the wine label. “Before reaching the end, the possibility of unexpected opportunities will always exist. – Bar L”

MC: (Is there some implication of this specific phrase being written?)

I had sunken into thought while looking at the memo. By then, Xia Yan had already returned, carrying the plate of washed apples. He saw the whiskey in the wooden box and froze somewhat.

MC: Xia Yan, why did you keep a bottle of whiskey? Do you like drinking whiskey?

MC: Is “Bar L” the name of a bar? They even gave you a note in here – are you a frequent customer there?

Xia Yan: To understand a city, the easiest way is to take a seat in the bars of the city.

Xia Yan: Plus, bars are the gathering places of all sorts of information. Of course I’ll go to bars often, to collect some information.

MC: So this bar is the one you go to most often?

Xia Yan: It’s one of them.

Xia Yan looked towards that bottle of whiskey.

Xia Yan: At the beginning of the year, I helped out at Bar L as a bartender because of a commission.

Xia Yan: The bar owner’s a great person and took great care of me. This bottle of whiskey that he brewed himself is a gift he sent me.

MC: So that’s how it is. But why didn’t you bring up before about how you even know how to bartend?

After Xia Yan returned, he’d already told me told me a lot of matters that didn’t involve “secrets”, but I’ve never heard him bring up this bartending matter back then. 

Xia Yan: Hm? There’s nothing special about bartending – it’s not worth bringing up.

MC: ???

MC: What about it isn’t special? What about it isn’t worth bringing up?! 

I was absolutely speechless. I really wanted to know what Xia Yan was like when he was a bartender and what kind of situations he encountered in the bar, but as far as I could see, Xia Yan still had a confused look all over his face – so I decided to find another way.

MC: Xia Yan, could you take me to hang out at Bar L?

Xia Yan: Ah?

MC: I heard that on the night of New Year’s Eve, there will be really interesting events in bars. I want to go see.

MC: Plus, it’s almost the New Year.

MC: Since the owner of this bar took care of you before, we should also say hi to him and send our respects.

Xia Yan: That’s true. The owner has also recently called me to come hang out when I had time.

Xia Yan: Then let’s go.

--

Commerce Street

With the hues of evening all around, the commerce street, hung full of holiday lanterns, was neon with multiple colors. On the corner of the street, a heavy oak door was hidden under the shade of a tree. A relief sculpture of a wineglass pattern and a curlicue letter “L” were on the door. 

Xia Yan: Here it is – we’ve arrived. 

MC: It has a major “hidden in the city” feel to it.

I looked at the oak door in front of me, feeling more and more expectant.

MC: (It’s said that bars are the gathering place of stories…)

MC: (I’ll definitely be able to hear about lots of stories about when Xia Yan was a bartender.)

I wanted to know those people Xia Yan had known and hear them talk about Xia Yan-related things. After all, those people there just might know a lot about those little matters that Xia Yan considered not worth bringing up. 

But nothing is not worth bringing up. 

I wanted to make up for all the stories about Xia Yan in those lost eight years.

PART 2

Bar L

When Xia Yan and I entered Bar L, they had just started operating for the night – there weren’t any guests. Under the gentle lights, the tables and chairs made from logs seemed to exude the gentleness of a past era. Xia Yan closed the entrance’s oak door, cutting off the moment of hustle and bustle from the street.

Xia Yan: Uncle Chen, I’ve come to bother you.

Uncle Chen: It’s Little Xia! Welcome, welcome.

A bartender standing inside the bar counter nodded and smiled at us. He looked like he was around 40 years old, with a face and voice that were equally gentle. After Xia Yan and I arrived at and sat down in front of the counter, Xia Yan did a simple introduction for us.

Xia Yan: Uncle Chen is the owner and bartender of Bar L. His bartending techniques and wine brewing techniques are incredibly amazing. 

Xia Yan: My bottle of whiskey was brewed by Uncle Chen himself.

Xia Yan: Uncle Chen, can we pass the New Year’s Eve at your place here?

Uncle Chen: Haha, of course.

Uncle Chen: The guests for tonight will definitely be very happy to be able to see the “Bartender Detective” again.

MC: “Bartender Detective”?

Xia Yan: It’s what the guests jokingly call me, because in addition to my bartending, sometimes I’ll do some simple detective work for guests. 

Looking at my responseless look, Uncle Chen helplessly laughed and shook his head.

Uncle Chen: This explanation isn’t exact enough.

Uncle Chen: Providing detective services simultaneously with his bartending isn’t the only reason why Little Xia is known as the “Bartender Detective”.

Uncle Chen: At the very beginning, it was because Little Xia once solved a guest’s problem within the time he spent creating a drink. 

Uncle Chen: After, even if they didn’t need a detective, guests still loved to find Little Xia to talk to, having him guess their profession, where they just came from, stuff like that.

Uncle Chen: Slowly, this nickname spread.

MC: So Xia Yan even had this kind of story when he was a bartender!

This “Bartender Detective” matter must have been omitted by Xia Yan as something “not worth bringing up”. Sure enough, I was right to come straight here!

Uncle Chen: I’ve only been focusing on talking and didn’t ask what the young lady would like to drink. My hospitality really is insufficient. 

Uncle Chen: Does the young lady want to have a hot drink like last time? Or do you want to try something else?

MC: Last time?

I only knew about this bar from seeing Xia Yan’s whiskey today…

Seeing that I was somewhat at a loss, Uncle Chen smiled.

Uncle Chen: Though today is the first time that Little Yan has brought a friend over, it’s not the first time I’ve seen the young lady.

Uncle Chen: On a rainy day at the beginning of the year, the young lady came in here and ordered a glass of hot drink from me.

All of a sudden, I remembered. At that time, a client made an appointment to see me near this place, but he suddenly had some unexpected matters to deal with before we met and would come a little late. Because it was raining, the nearby shops had already filled up with people, so I walked into this bar to avoid the rain and pass the time.

MC: Your memory is so good, being able to remember so clearly about something that had happened so long ago.

MC: Plus, there were particularly many guests that time because of the rain.

Uncle Chen: About this…

Without waiting for Uncle Chen to speak, Xia Yan immediately took over talking.

Xia Yan: “A qualified bartender does not only need to understand alcohol – they need to understand people even more. They should do all within their ability to remember the habits of each guest and let them feel at home.”

Xia Yan: This is the phrase that Uncle Chen speaks most often, so of course he would remember you.

MC: So that’s how it is. This must be the so-called “craftsman’s mindset”. 

MC: (Wait, since I came to this bar at the beginning of the year…)

A doubt suddenly flashed in my head.

MC: Xia Yan, weren’t you also helping here at Uncle Chen’s place at the beginning of the year? Why didn’t I see you when I came that day?

That day, it seemed like Uncle Chen was the only bartender in the bar.

Xia Yan: …!

Xia Yan’s expression got suspiciously panicked.

Xia Yan: I… I must have taken a day off on that day.

Xia Yan: During that time, I had a particularly large amount of detective commissions, so I was a little busy.

Xia Yan quickly placed the drink menu in front of me.

Xia Yan: Right, didn’t Uncle Chen just ask you what you wanted to drink?

Xia Yan: Fruit punch, the Cinderella, and the midsummer fruit drink are all non-alcoholic cocktails, and they taste pretty good. Want to try?

MC: (This forced change in topic – he’s definitely lying.)

MC: (Xia Yan, you’ve even learned to hide from me…) 

But for now, I decided to not take apart Xia Yan’s lies in front of Uncle Chen.

I pressed down on my thoughts, lowered my head, and swept a glance over the drink menu.

MC: Today’s a holiday. I want to order something with alcohol.

Looking at Xia Yan and I, Uncle Chen laughed.

Uncle Chen: If the young lady doesn’t have any special preferences, then I would like to recommend my self-brewed whiskey.

As he spoke, Uncle Chen took a bottle of whiskey from the wine shelf. The bottle was identical to the one in Xia Yan’s house.

MC: This bottle of alcohol… it seems like it’s the same as the bottle that you sent to Xia Yan before.

Uncle Chen: That’s right, they’re the same kind of alcohol. I feel like it very much suits Little Xia.

MC: It very much suits Xia Yan? Why?

Xia Yan: Uncle Chen—

Without waiting for Uncle Chen to speak, Xia Yan opened his mouth again. It was very obvious that he wanted to take over in talking…

>Prevent him >Let him

MC: (You thought I’d let you take control of the situation? Too naïve, Xia Yan!)

I quickly grabbed a piece of chocolate from the snack plate and peeled it open.

MC: Xia Yan, you must be hungry from talking so much—

Xia Yan: *mouth full noises*!

I stuffed the chocolate into Xia Yan’s mouth and covered it tightly. Xia Yan’s lips struggled futilely under my hand, and I faced back towards Uncle Chen. 

MC: Uncle Chen, is there a story about Xia Yan and this bottle of whiskey?

Uncle Chen looked at me and Xia Yan, who had no way to resist, the smile on his face deep.

>Prevent him >Let him

MC: (Let me see what you’re going to say this time…)

Thus, I put on a gentle smiling expression, looking intently and quietly at Xia Yan. Under my “friendly” gaze, Xia Yan closed his just-opened mouth up again.

Xia Yan: …

For a while, we were both silent. Uncle Chen looked at Xia Yan and I, the smile on his face deep.

Uncle Chen: Has the young lady heard of a phrase like this – “All the stories in a bar are in the wine”?

Uncle Chen: Would you like to try this whiskey?

MC: Yes! I’ll have to request you for it.

Uncle Chen took a glass cup, placed three ice cubes inside, and then used the bartending spoon to stir it quickly. A few minutes later, he filtered out the melted water, poured it into the whiskey, and mixed it again. The spoon slid unceasingly between the ice cubes and the cups, but it didn’t make the slightest bit of noise.

Uncle Chen: Does the young lady know how whiskey is brewed?

MC: I’m not too clear on it… is it similar to wine?

Uncle Chen: For whiskey to become pulp from grain, it needs to undergo germination, saccharification, fermentation, aging, and six procedures of mixing.

Uncle Chen: For it to mature, it will take at least several years, going up to over 10 years.

Uncle Chen: Within this long period of time, no matter how expectant or how anxious the brewer is, or how much they’ve put their entire physical and mental effort into this, they still have no way of absolutely guaranteeing the taste at the end.

MC: Is that so?

MC: (Although, what does this have to do with Xia Yan?)

While I mulled this over, Uncle Chen had already finished adjusting the whiskey. He gently pushed it over.

Uncle Chen: The whiskey – please try it.

I held up the whiskey and took a sip gingerly.  The alcohol that had ice added slid smoothly into my mouth, but the aroma didn’t weaken in the slightest bit. The oaky fragrance mixed with the grain’s sweetness.

MC: It tastes great! Uncle Chen, the liquor you’ve brewed really is too amazing!

Uncle Chen: I’m very glad you like it.

Uncle Chen: In fact, when this batch of whiskey was first completely brewed, it didn’t have this taste.

Uncle Chen: It tasted very spicy, its aroma was average – it could be considered a major failure.

Uncle Chen: But after leaving it for a month, it became the taste it has now.

MC: So it was actually like this? Why?

Uncle Chen: Because of light, the surrounding air, and temperature. Sometimes, these things that one must consider when preserving whiskey can instead end up bringing good changes.

Uncle Chen: A failure at one point does not represent one’s life.

Uncle Chen: Before reaching the end, the possibility of unexpected opportunities will always exist.

“Before reaching the end, the possibility of unexpected opportunities will always exist.” This was the same as the sentence written on that note from earlier.

MC: It sounds like you’re talking about wine, yet it also seems like it’s a philosophy that can describe one’s life.

Uncle Chen: The stories in wine naturally also have life to them.

Uncle Chen looked at me, his smile very gentle. I felt that he was implying something in his words - did Xia Yan encounter some sort of issue back then? But why didn’t he come see and talk to me? Instead, he hid from me…

I looked towards the whiskey beside Uncle Chen’s hand. On the glass bottle filled with amber liquor, Xia Yan’s expression was reflected, looking quietly at me. I met his gaze for a moment, and Xia Yan choked, coughing once.

Xia Yan: Ahem…!

Xia Yan: I just wanted to say, drink it slower…

MC: (Xia Yan…)

I was just pondering what to do next, when suddenly, the bar door was opened again. Uncle Chen looked at the person who’d arrived, then stood up very quickly to walk to the bar counter.

Uncle Chen: Excuse me – I must leave for a bit.

After Uncle Chen left, I looked towards Xia Yan again.

MC: Xia Yan, you said before that you came to Uncle Chen’s place to help because of a commission.

MC: Which means, it’s not related to work that needs to be kept secret, right?

Xia Yan: Uh… that’s right.

MC: (Since it’s not related, then it should be fine if I ask a bit.)

MC: Xia Yan, at the beginning of the year, did you encounter some kind of situation? So you…

Xia Yan: Nah, I just happened to not be there that day.

Xia Yan: Alright, we’ve already reunited now, so don’t worry about the thing from that day.

MC: …

This guy’s trying to change the topic again.

>Frontal attack >Guide patiently and systematically >Joke around

MC: (Xia Yan, you’ve forced me to use extraordinary methods.)

I deliberately put on my intimidating court trial expression.

MC: Don’t you know that you’re really bad at lying? Plus, you kept changing the topic in front of Uncle Chen!

MC: You’re not just lying with this – you’re even openly mocking my IQ!

MC: If this can be tolerated, what can’t be?

Xia Yan: I…

MC: Severity to those who confess. Even more severity to those who resist! Hurry and own up!

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan: Great Lawyer, I’m scared of you…

>Frontal attack >Guide patiently and systematically >Joke around

I shifted towards Xia Yan’s side.

MC: Xia Yan…

Xia Yan: What, what are you doing…

MC: Did you really take a day off that day?

MC: You’re not allowed to lie to me. Look straight at my eyes and talk.

Xia Yan: …

MC: Why did you hide from me? If you met with me at that time, we could have reunited earlier by a few months.

MC: Could – you – tell – me…

Tugging on Xia Yan’s arm, I gently rocked it back and forth with a face full of sincerity.

Xia Yan: You’re using this trick again…

>Frontal attack >Guide patiently and systematically >Joke around

I pushed the whiskey that Uncle Chen had prepared towards Xia Yan’s hand. Then, I leaned over, lifted the wisps of hair beside my ear, feigning an elegant air, and gave him a smile.

MC: Handsome brother, I’ve got wine – do you have a story?

I deliberately used a classic line.

Xia Yan: …

MC: Don’t stay silent – from one glance, you’re clearly someone with a story.

MC: How about we chat?

Xia Yan: Where did you learn this from…

I was just about to continue when Xia Yan suddenly angled his head towards the bar door. 

Xia Yan: Ah, Uncle Chen’s returning!

I followed Xia Yan’s gaze. The guest from earlier had already left, and Uncle Chen was walking back, holding a document. Suddenly, a bell sound came from his body. Uncle Chen picked up the phone, and a few seconds later, he started to resentfully reproach the caller.

Uncle Chen: Do not call again!

Right after he said this, Uncle Chen hung up with indignation all over his face.

Xia Yan: …

MC: …

In astonishment, Xia Yan and I looked at each other.

PART 3

Bar L

After Uncle Chen hung up, he returned very quickly to the bar counter. He smiled at Xia Yan and I very apologetically.

Uncle Chen: Harasser calls – don’t worry about it.

MC: …

Did Uncle Chen run into some trouble? But would it be discourteous for me, someone who has just met him, to question him closely… I was just hesitating when Xia Yan asked him extremely directly.

Xia Yan: A harasser call won’t make you lose your composure like this. Did you run into some trouble?

Uncle Chen: Just a little issue.

Xia Yan: The document in your hands looks like a detective’s tracking progress for a report on work-related investigations.

Xia Yan: In the past few days, you didn’t just call me simply to have me come hang out – you had something that you wanted to discuss with me, right?

MC: (In the past few days, Xia Yan returned to the capital because of a command…)

MC: (Did Uncle Chen look for other detectives to help because of this?)

Xia Yan: “No matter what troubles a bartender has, when he’s behind the bar counter, he must have a professional expression. He can’t bring troubles to the guests.”

Xia Yan: I know this is your pride and persistence.

Xia Yan: It’s just that, as a detective, I want to investigate secrets when I notice them.

Xia Yan: So, I’d like to request the owner to take special care of the detective guest that likes to look for trouble that I am!

Xia Yan turned around and gently held up that bottle of whiskey on the table.

Xia Yan: Plus, I haven’t given a return gift for the unusually valuable gift you sent me before.

The past between Xia Yan, Uncle Chen, and this bar must run very deep. Though I still didn’t understand what had happened, I took over from Xia Yan’s words.

MC: As the saying goes, “three ignorant cobblers combined can surpass a genius”. If you need the help of a detective, Xia Yan’s the best of them!

MC: If it’s not a secret that’s hard to talk about, please talk about it with us. We might be able to help.

Uncle Chen looked at us, sinking into silence for a moment, then sighed.

Uncle Chen: It’s actually not something major – just a little upsetting.

Uncle Chen: Before, someone who I was familiar with borrowed some money from me, and signed the promissory note according to stipulated formats.

Uncle Chen: But last month, when I went to find him, he said that he has never borrowed any money from me.

MC: He denied it? But there’s proof.

Uncle Chen: So I sued him, and applied for a handwriting appraisal, but the appraisal results showed that the handwriting on the promissory note wasn’t his.

Xia Yan: Could it have been signed by someone else?

Uncle Chen: At that time, only he and I were in the shop.

Uncle Chen: Although… when it was time to sign, he told me that he wasn’t feeling well and had me help him by pouring a glass of hot water.

Uncle Chen: Now that I think about it, that was just an excuse. He took advantage of the opportunity to sign it with his left hand.

MC: With his left hand?

Uncle Chen: He was left-handed when he was little, and only changed after many years of rectification.

MC: Then did you do a handwriting appraisal with his left hand?

Uncle Chen: I also applied to do a left-hand handwriting appraisal, but the result was the same.

Xia Yan: Do you have the right and left hand handwriting appraisal documents here?

Uncle Chen: It’s here.

Uncle Chen found the right and left hand handwriting appraisal documents. Xia Yan and I carefully compared all the writing marks on it.

Xia Yan: Looking at the handwriting records of the appraisal documents, his left handwriting is, in fact, that of a novice’s.

Xia Yan: His pen marks are inaccurate, the places where he lifts the pen lacks strength, and the marks are crooked and shaky… all signs of lack of practice and inconsistent use of a hand to write.

Xia Yan: I’m afraid that he deliberately wrote this kind of font to trick the appraisal.

MC: He must be very skilled at using his left hand to be able to use it to write faked handwriting.

Xia Yan: That’s right.

Xia Yan: Since he’s thought up of tricks and plans to prove that he is no longer left-handed, then we’ll use his plan, that he used against others, against him.

Xia Yan: We just need to prove that he still can skillfully use his left hand for this appraisal to collapse on itself.

Uncle Chen: But there’s not enough time.

Time? I immediately reacted.

MC: After losing a trial, if one wants to change the verdict results, one must appeal within set time limits.

Uncle Chen: Yes, today is the last day of the time limit.

Uncle Chen: Before, I had other detectives follow him and investigate, but none of them noticed anything.

MC: (Uncle Chen felt that there was already no way out by now, so when we came in earlier, he didn’t bring up a single word about this…)

Uncle Chen: Good thing that the amount he borrowed wasn’t very large – it was within my bearable range.

Uncle Chen: Plus, suffering financial loss to avoid calamities might be a blessing in disguise.

Uncle Chen laughed kindly. He wasn’t comforting himself – instead, he was comforting us.

Uncle Chen: Let’s not bring up these disappointing matters on a holiday.

Uncle Chen: Weren't you two planning to pass New Year’s Eve here? For this year’s New Year’s Eve, I’ve prepared a lot of interesting activities –

Xia Yan: Uncle Chen, to give up now is to fall right into what he wants.

Xia Yan: I’m afraid that he purposefully borrowed an amount that you would be reluctantly willing to bear. He wants you to give up in the end, not wanting to make a big fuss over this.

As Uncle Chen was talking earlier, Xia Yan had already completely flipped through that detective’s tracking investigation report.

Xia Yan: I know that you’re worried that finding evidence within such a short time is too difficult. 

Xia Yan: In spite of this, don’t worry.

Xia Yan: I’m the “Bartender Detective” who once solved a problem within the time spent preparing a glass of drink, after all.

Xia Yan: There are still a few hours before zero-o’clock – we’ll have more than enough time.

MC: Uncle Chen, when I heard you talk about the “Bartender Detective” earlier, I was very curious.

MC: Just view it as you giving me the chance to personally see Xia Yan as the “Bartender Detective”!

Uncle Chen: But that guy has already noticed how I had detectives follow him. He called me just now to ridicule me.

Uncle Chen: He’s definitely already prepared thoroughly. If you go now...

Xia Yan: Don’t worry. I actually think that this is exactly something we can use.

Bar Street

Xia Yan and I went towards the most popular bar on the bar street – “HOT&CLUB”. Even several tens of meters from the door, the music surging out from inside was still audible.

MC: According to the previous detective’s investigation, this is the borrower Cui Xu’s most-frequented bar.

MC: As soon as we submit an appeal, Cui Xu will receive a notice from court. He’s bound to be extremely careful – getting evidence will be very difficult.

Xia Yan: So we need to get evidence that he is left-handed before 12-o’clock tonight and then have Uncle Chen file an appeal.

Xia Yan: Cui Xu is a frequent guest of bars, and he’s very skilled at bar games like table tennis and darts.

Xia Yan: We can set up a situation to make contact with him, lead him into competing with me, and then collect materials with that.

MC: Competing?

When we were little, a relative bought a dartboard for Xia Yan and I. Unwittingly, Xia Yan then developed a habit of throwing darts to clear up his mind when thinking.

MC: Your darts technique is pretty good, but competing…

MC: And do you know how to play table tennis?

Xia Yan: Of course. Plus, I’ve never encountered a worthy opponent these past few years!

Looking at my surprised expression, he smiled.

Xia Yan: My work requires me to get in and out of all sorts of situations. If I want to be freely adaptable to changes, I naturally need to know a bit of everything.

Relaxing, I nodded. Since Xia Yan said that there are no problems, there will definitely be no problems. Thus, I changed focus, starting to think about ways to lead on Cui Xu.

MC: For Cui Yuan to be able to forge handwriting, he must have high anti-reconnaissance awareness.

MC: If we’re too deliberate with leading Cui Xu to compete with you, we’d instead arouse his suspicions.

Xia Yan: We have to make it deliberate.

Xia Yan winked.

Xia Yan: Cui Xu just called Uncle Chen to provoke him – he’s quite arrogant.

Xia Yan: What would he be like if he saw a deliberate and third-rate trap?

MC: So you plan to use this detail about him to perform a bout of “the mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind it”?

Xia Yan: That’s right.

MC: Then I feel like this plan can be optimized some more.

Xia Yan: How do you want to optimize it?

MC: I’ll be the “cicada”.

HOT&CLUB

Xia Yan and I walked into HOT&CLUB. The sound of drums was deafening, and the dazzling lights roved over the bodies of the dancing guys and girls. Xia Yan embraced my shoulders, guarding me within the crook of his arm. We walked in the sea of people while looking for Cui Xu.

MC: Found him – he’s over there.

I was just about to head over when Xia Yan suddenly tugged my wrist.

MC: Don’t worry, Great Detective.

MC: I’ve often done this level of acting before when going to get evidence – I won’t expose us.

Xia Yan: I know.

Xia Yan smiled, slowly letting go of my wrist.

Xia Yan: I just wanted to tell you that I’ll always be behind you, where you can see me just by turning around.

MC: Mhmm!

-- I faked an expression like something unexpected had happened and walked towards the bar counter, sitting down on the spot beside Cui Xu. I first looked for the busy bartender on the other side, then, as I flipped through the drinks menu, sneakily looked over the other guests’ cocktails at the bar counter.

Cui Xu: Is this the young lady’s first time at a bar?

MC: Uh… it is. You can tell?

Cui Xu: Of course. Just now, you were looking all over the place, with an expression like you were at a complete loss.

Cui Xu: Are you waiting for a friend?

MC: I was stood up by someone, so I came into the bar to pass some time.

Cui Xu: It’s such a waste for such a pretty face to be spent on anger. Here, I’ll treat you to a drink.

MC: I’m not too great with drinking alcohol – I’m just afraid of getting drunk right after finishing.

MC: I’ve heard that there are a lot of games in bars, and I’d like to try them first.

Without changing my tone or expression, I guided my conversation with Cui Xu, turning the topic to what Xia Yan said earlier – an activity that could expose that he was left-handed.

MC: I’ll probably not bother with dancing… too tired.

MC: Working every day is already so tiring. It’s hard enough to get an opportunity to relax, so I’d prefer a quiet and interesting game. 

MC: Table tennis does look pretty cool, but there are too many people over there…

Cui Xu: Then how about darts?

MC: (That’s exactly it!)

I faked an ignorant expression.

MC: Ah, darts… I’ve seen darts competitions on television before, but I don’t really know how to play.

Cui Xu: No worries, I’ll teach you. My dart skills are the real deal.

As Cui Xu said this, he compared his thumbs, then stood up, leading me to the other end of the bar counter – where the dart machine was. I turned back, looking at Xia Yan, and he nodded at me.

PART 4

HOT&CLUB

Cui Xu: Right, you haven’t ordered anything since you came to the bar, yeah?

As Cui Xu spoke, he handed me a glass of “iced red tea”. The orange liquid was embellished with lemon slices, ice cubes, and mint leaves – bright and beautiful.

Cui Xu: I’ll treat you.

Cui Xu: This is a non-alcoholic cocktail, with a taste like iced red tea. It very much suits girls.

MC: Whoa, it looks very pretty. I can’t even bear to drink it.

MC: (As if anyone would believe it really is “iced red tea”…)

I hadn’t even been able to refuse it yet when Xia Yan’s voice sounded behind me.

Xia Yan: Using a Long Island iced tea to trick girls – that’s way too tasteless.

Cui Xu: Tch…

Cui Xu “hmph”-ed coldly, turned around, and slowly looked over Xia Yan.

Cui Xu: What nonsense are you talking about? Wanna start something?

Xia Yan: How could this be considered wanting to start something?

Xia Yan: This is a bar, after all. You’re not the only one who wants to strike up a conversation with a beautiful lady.

Xia Yan: Although, my method of striking up a conversation is – to find an opportunity, and to act handsome.

Smiling, Xia Yan sent a glance over to me, his expression reckless and brash. I, who had just led Cui Xu through the plan skillfully and easily, felt at a loss for a moment.

MC: …!

Xia Yan casually took the darts in my hand. His fingertips brushed over the back of my hand, somewhat rough and slightly warm. The dart spun in his fingertips, looking like a flower, becoming a sharp tip in flight. Xia Yan looked at Cui Xu across from it, his expression very provoking.

Xia Yan: How about we compete in a round?

Cui Xu poked at his eyebrow, then disdainfully sounded out a “heh”.

Cui Yuan: “501”, double entry.

Xia Yan: Sure.

After he finished speaking, Xia Yan no longer bothered with Cui Xu. He turned around to “strike up a conversation” with me.

Xia Yan: Beautiful lady, do you know how points are recorded in dart competitions? 

MC: Uh… I’ve seen a few competitions.

MC: The dartboard is split into a total of 20 divisions. Accordingly, the numbers on the dartboard are all different. Each are marked from 1 to 20 points.

MC: The two narrow circles on the dartboard are individually for double and triple points. It’s like this, right?

Xia Yan: You’re pretty knowledgeable about it. What a pity – I’d wanted to give you an explanation.

MC: Hahaha…

MC: (When we were little, I saw you play it so many times and accompanied you in watching so many competitions. How could I not remember…)

MC: Then could I trouble you to explain “501” and “double entry”? I’m not too familiar with these…

Xia Yan: The so-called “double entry” game requires you to hit the double-point area to start recording points, and it requires you to hit the double-point area to win the competition.

Xia Yan: As for “501”, each person’s starting points are 501 points. The accumulated points increase or decrease based on the dart throws.

Xia Yan: Each game has 20 rounds, and you can throw 30 darts in one round. The first person to lower their points to 0 is the winner.

MC: 20 rounds? So won’t you have to throw 60 darts?

Cui Xu: How could we let the beautiful lady wait that long! Nine darts is enough.

MC: Nine darts?

Cui Xu: This is the fastest, and simultaneously the hardest, way to win a dart competition – “Nine dart collection”.

Cui Xu walked behind the throwing line.

Cui Xu: Using nine darts is just three rounds to take the points from the original 20 rounds.

Cui Xu: The world’s first double entry nine dart collection was achieved on October 8, 2011, at the World Darts Championship’s semi-finals. 

Cui Xu: Brendan Dolan vs. James Wade. 

Cui Xu: Back then, the score count that Brendan Dolan achieved in the first round was –

He threw out a dart –

Cui Xu: D20.

Bam! – The dart stably struck the 20-point double point area.

Cui Xu: And then – T20, twice.

Following Cui Xu’s voice, two darts successively struck the 20-point triple point area. He turned around, raised his chin at Xia Yan, his lips curving upwards in a completely taunting way.

MC: …

Xia Yan met Cui Xu’s gaze indifferently and just laughed. He walked up to the throwing line and held up the dart very casually.

Though Xia Yan had said before that he had never met a worthy opponent until today, the skill Cui Xu just showed…

MC: (No, Xia Yan is definitely even more amazing.)

I silently stayed firm with this belief in my heart. Suddenly, a whistle sounded not far from me.

Xia Yan: Beautiful lady, why are you zoning out?

MC: !!!

Maybe it was because Xia Yan had poked at my focus on my worries, maybe it was this frivolous tone of his, but my heart was suddenly in a panic. I met Xia Yan’s gaze – in his expression, there was a defiance and brashness I had never seen before.

Xia Yan: If you don’t watch me, then no matter how handsome I look when winning, it would be all pointless.

The roving lights in the bar dyed Xia Yan’s figure with a hint of unruliness. In this moment, this figure that I was unmatchably used to… seemed to be somewhat unfamiliar.

Xia Yan’s mouth hooked upwards.

Xia Yan: Just like that. Don’t look away.

MC: …

Xia Yan’s voice seemed to carry a strange magnetic force, sucking my gaze to his body with no way to look away. Only then did he smile and return his gaze to the dartboard.

Xia Yan: If you want to pay respects to the classics, then be more thorough.

Xia Yan: Back then, the positions of Brendan Dolan’s first round of darts were –

Xia Yan: D20, in the middle, leaning left. 

Xia Yan: T20, right.

Xia Yan: T20, left.

Three darts consecutively flew from Xia Yan’s hands.

Bam bam bam – the darts plunged stably into the positions he just mentioned. Cui Xu held back the taunting on his face. 

Cui Xu: … Kind of interesting.

Cui Xu: Looks like we can play a little high today.

With a flick of his right thumb, the darts were thrown high into the air. Right after, his left hand grabbed in the air, and the darts smoothly slid between his fingers, a cycle of points between his five fingertips.

MC: …!

Here it is – I held on my phone, silently opening the video screen. The second round started, and Cui Xu stood again behind the throwing line. He threw faster and more precisely with his left hand than with his right – the areas that the three darts successively fell stably into were – T20, T20, T20. Right after, the third round – T20, T20, Bullseye. After the three rounds, Xia Yan and his opponent had completely struck off 501 points. 

But we already got our evidence. 

MC: (Awesome! Next, we need to remind Uncle Chen to submit an appeal.)

Cui Xu: Now, don’t you need to find an excuse to leave and have the old man submit an appeal, beautiful lady?

Cui Xu fiddled with the darts in his hands, looked at us, seeming to smile, but also seeming to not smile.

Cui Xu: It must have been that old man who had you two search for evidence off of me.

Cui Xu: He really knows how to make trouble – even found two detectives.

Cui Xu: Did you two think that I would relax my guard just because today’s the last day of the appeal validity period? Haha. 

He took out his phone, waving it in front of Xia Yan’s and my faces – 0:10.

Cui Xu: 10 minutes past midnight. The time to appeal has already passed.

Cui Xu: Your dart throwing was pretty good, but I won.

Just as Cui Xu finished speaking, we heard Xia Yan laugh lightly.

Xia Yan: They didn’t set up a clock in the bar because they wanted to let guests forget about the meaning of time after coming in.

Xia Yan: So if you want to look at the time, you’d rely on your phone.

Xia Yan took out his own phone, tapping at it a few times. Cui Xu’s phone screen suddenly blacked out, and in two seconds, the numbers on it had changed from 0:10 to 23:30.

Xia Yan: But things like phones are way too easy to hack.

Xia Yan: The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind it.

Xia Yan: The people executing a ruse aren’t just you alone.

Cui Xu: You rascal!

Cui Xu’s complexion suddenly paled, and he rushed at Xia Yan.

Bang! Xia Yan raised his arm – I couldn’t see his movements at all, I just saw Cui Xu directly tumbling over in the space between us.

Cui Xu: Ahh!

PART 5

Street

After, Xia Yan immediately contacted Uncle Chen to have him submit an appeal online.

Xia Yan: Alright, smoothly resolved!

Xia Yan: Let’s head back. It’s nearly zero-o’clock, and the New Year’s Eve activities at Uncle Chen’s place –

When he mentioned Bar L, Xia Yan suddenly stopped.

MC: What’s up?

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan carefully looked at me a few times, his expression evasive – just like how he was at Bar L, when I asked him exactly if he had been at the bar on that rainy day. I couldn’t resist laughing.

MC: Are you afraid that I’ll ask you about… if you were at the bar that rainy day?

MC: Alright, I won’t ask anymore.

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan froze for a few seconds.

Xia Yan: Weren’t you really curious before…

MC: I’m still pretty curious now. But…

I looked towards Xia Yan and smiled.

MC: Everyone has matters that they don’t want to tell others.

MC: This is especially so after we grow up.

The closer people are, the harder it is to talk about certain matters, so a lot of people choose to go to bars to talk to strangers. Though in the past, Xia Yan and I were always so familiar that we were like a single person without any secrets between us, we’ve now grown up. After growing up, there will be boundaries. Forcing him to tell me his thoughts and forcing him to accept my help were also a sort of wrong. If I were to question him in the pestering way like when we were little, it would be a severely EQ-lacking action. 

MC: …

MC: I’m sorry. Earlier at Bar L, I even questioned you…

MC: I didn’t realize at that time…

Before, Xia Yan urged me to not join NXX, but after I made my determination known, he respected my decision. This time as well – he clearly would have been fine on his own, but he considered my thoughts and let me help out. Xia Yan has always considered me, and has always respected my decisions. I’m all too clear on this mindset of his. 

So, even if he had some things that he didn’t want to tell me, what’s the big deal? 

Though it was just like before – as long as I kept trying, Xia Yan would not reject me – the more it was like this, the more I had to have a sense of measure. Otherwise, I’d put him in a difficult position.

MC: In the future, for anything that isn’t easy for you to talk about, I –

Xia Yan: It’s not like that!

Xia Yan suddenly grabbed onto my hand, holding it with force, his hands grasping my knuckles. 

Xia Yan: There’s nothing that’s inconvenient for you to ask.

Xia Yan: Whether it’s the whiskey matter, or the rainy day matter – you can ask about anything you want to know about.

Xia Yan: None of my matters are inconvenient for you to ask about.

Xia Yan: There is no boundary between us.

MC: Xia Yan…

Suddenly, he seemed to have become aware that he was holding my hand with too much force, and hurriedly released it.

Xia Yan: Sorry, I held your hand with too much force… I probably hurt you.

Xia Yan looked at me, his gaze trembling slightly.

He went silent for several seconds, and finally, slowly opened his mouth.

Xia Yan: I…

Xia Yan: I just… was embarrassed to tell you…

Xia Yan: I didn’t want to let you know… that I once wanted to avoid you.

MC: Avoid me?

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan: I was afraid that I would bring… trouble to you.

Xia Yan looked at me, his eyes full of guilt and unease.

MC: Was it because of the NXX issue? At that time, you had already started investigating related events yourself, right?

MC: Were you afraid that meeting me would get me involved in danger?

Xia Yan didn’t respond, like he was agreeing silently.

I tugged on Xia Yan’s arm, having him face me wholly. 

MC: What relation do we have between us?

MC: Even if there’s danger, I want to face it with you.

MC: If on some day in the future, you truly encounter a hard problem that I can’t accompany you in facing, then I’ll wait for you to return.

MC: Remember this well – everything about you isn’t trouble to me. It all has extraordinary significance!

Xia Yan: …

As we spoke, snowflakes like little diamonds fell down from the sky, one landing precisely on Xia Yan’s eyelash. His pupil seemed to flicker with a small light.

Xia Yan: Mm, I’ll remember it.

MC: You also have to remember that, compared to trouble, compared to danger, compared to anything else, what I fear more is that you… won’t be here.

MC: Where you are by yourself, if you’re living alright, if there are things upsetting you, if there are people who can share your burdens… I’ll be very worried…

MC: So you must promise me, from now and in the future, you can’t think about escaping from me again. 

I looked firmly at Xia Yan, putting on an imposing manner like if I didn’t hear a definite answer, I would swear to not give up. Xia Yan looked at me and laughed lightly.

Xia Yan: I swear, now and in the future, I will never think about escaping from you again.

Xia Yan: I will do all I can to always, always accompany you.

Xia Yan spoke unusually solemnly – even more solemnly than I had expected. His clear eyes reflected the fluttering snowflakes.

MC: …

MC: That’s right!

MC: In the future, even if you want to escape to the ends of the world, I’ll still drag you back!

Xia Yan: Yep, I have no doubts about that!

Bong bong bong –

The bell from the clock striking zero-o’clock sounded. Innumerable brightly-colored fireworks lit up the faraway night sky for a while.

MC: It’s zero-o’clock!

Xia Yan: I’m sorry – blame me for taking up time.

Looking somewhat upset, Xia Yan looked at the fireworks in the faraway night sky.

Xia Yan: What do you want to do now? There should still be some final New Year’s Eve activities going on at Uncle Chen’s place, although it’ll take some time for us to rush there.

Xia Yan: Or we could go to the center plaza to look at the fireworks show? It’ll be closer that way.

MC: Mm… forget it, I don’t want to go to either place now.

MC: I feel like it would be pretty nice if we passed New Year’s Eve here. 

Innumerable fireworks in the distance soared up, then fell down. Xia Yan’s and my spot definitely could not be considered a suitable viewing location, but I felt extremely happy. Compared to how you pass New Year’s Eve, what’s more important is who you spend New Year’s Eve with. At this moment, I really just wanted to stay like this with only Xia Yan for a little while longer.

MC: Xia Yan, how about we just slowly walk a bit back to Uncle Chen’s place?

Xia Yan: Sure. Here, give me your hand.  

Xia Yan held my hand in his, putting them together into his coat pocket. Just like it had been every winter, his palms have always been so warm – holding his hand was like holding a little sun. 

Xia Yan: Alright, Xia Yan-brand hand warmers have turned on!

Xia Yan: Now we can go.

MC: Wait a bit, Xia Yan.

I haven’t said my New Year’s blessings to Xia Yan yet.

> Happy New Year! May you be happy every day. > May everything go your way and you accomplish everything you set your heart to.

MC: Xia Yan! Happy New Year! For this new year, may you be happy every day!

Xia Yan: With your blessings, I’m sure that I’ll be happy every day for this year.

Xia Yan: You too – Happy New Year. May you be happy every day.

MC: With a Xia Yan-brand little sun, is it even possible for me to be unhappy?

Xia Yan: You’re absolutely correct! I’ll definitely ensure that you are completely happy every day!

> Happy New Year! May you be happy every day. > May everything go your way and you accomplish everything you set your heart to.

MC: Xia Yan! For this new year, may everything go your way and you accomplish everything you set your heart to!

Xia Yan: I’ve already accomplished what I’ve set my heart to. 

MC: Huh?

Xia Yan: You too - for this new year, may everything go your way and you accomplish everything you set your heart to.

PART 6

Bar L

Xia Yan and I returned to Bar L. Xia Yan said he had to do some cleanup on the video, so he had me wait a bit at the bar counter. Not long after, I heard the sound of familiar footsteps behind me.

MC: You were pretty… fast?

I angled my head around, seeing Xia Yan, now in full bartender attire.

MC: Xia Yan, this is?

Xia Yan: Several months ago, I disappointed a certain very important guest because of my error.

Xia Yan: So I made a request of Uncle Chen just now…

Xia Yan: To let me become that guest’s exclusive bartender tonight to properly make it up to her.

Xia Yan: Alright, young lady, what would you like to drink?

MC: For this, I’ll have to think carefully about it!

I pondered for a moment.

MC: I heard earlier from the owner of this place that you have a liquor that very much suits you.

MC: I’d also like to request this handsome bartender to prepare a cocktail that suits me best!

Xia Yan: It’s a task with some difficulty.

Xia Yan: But as your exclusive bartender, I will definitely satisfy you.

Xia Yan: Please wait a moment.

Xia Yan placed a cocktail glass in front of me, then took a bottle of wine from the wine shelf. 

Xia Yan: First, pour the chocolate liqueur into the wineglass.

Xia Yan: Then, gently float a layer of fresh cream on top of the liqueur.

Following the back of the spoon, the fresh cream slowly infused itself in the glass’s contents. Right after, Xia Yan stuck a cocktail pin through a dark red cherry, stacking it on the glass rim.

Xia Yan: Angel’s Kiss – please try it.

MC: What a romantic name – why is it called that? Is it because the cherry is like a pair of lips?

Xia Yan: There’s another important reason.

Xia Yan: Young lady, please take the cocktail pin and soak the cherry into the liqueur, then gently take it out.

Complying with his words, I dipped the cherry into the liqueur, then took it out. The cocktail stirred up, and the fresh cream floated into swirls, like a small pair of lips.

Xia Yan: This is the Angel’s Kiss.

Xia Yan: It’s said that after drinking it, an angel will transfer your thoughts to the person you care about.

Xia Yan: I feel like this is the cocktail that suits you best.

Xia Yan’s voice became unusually gentle. 

MC: …

--

After finishing his work, Xia Yan went into the bar’s inside room to change clothes. Completely concealed behind the door, Uncle Chen faced the girl waiting at beside the bar counter.

Uncle Chen: Angel’s Kiss – just like Cupid’s arrow, shot into the hearts of lovers.

Uncle Chen looked at Xia Yan, smiling meaningfully. 

Uncle Chen: On an important day, if you drink a glass of Angel’s Kiss, the god of love will definitely transmit your feelings to the person you yearn for day and night.

Uncle Chen: It really is a drink that’s extremely well suited for her.

Xia Yan: …

Uncle Chen: I’ve been thinking all day about the conditions that she came in for the first time, at the beginning of the year. 

--

[Flashback]

The beginning of the year…

The noisy sounds of rain were shut outside by the heavy oak door. When guests pushed open the door to come in, the clamminess of water vapor blew in.

Uncle Chen: There are quite a lot of guests on rainy days. You’ve really worked hard.

Xia Yan: You’re looking at this as an outsider – I don’t feel like I’ve worked hard at all.

As they spoke, the oak door was opened again.

Xia Yan: There’s another guest coming –

Xia Yan: …!

It was [MC]. Even if they were separated by a room full of guests, even if it was just a back view, he could still recognize that figure easily.

Uncle Chen: What’s wrong, Little Xia? Do you know that girl?

Xia Yan’s mouth lightly trembled, out of his control.

Xia Yan: I’m sorry, Uncle Chen…

Xia Yan: Can I trouble you to serve this guest…

Xia Yan hastily left the bar counter.

Uncle Chen: …

Uncle Chen looked deeply at the girl by the door. She had just closed the door and was turning around, walking to the bar counter.

After closing that day, Xia Yan carried out closing tasks in behind the bar counter. After everything was properly tidied up, he slowly sat down behind the bar counter, looking at that empty seat in front of him.

Xia Yan: …

Hearing footsteps behind him, Xia Yan swiftly stood up.

Xia Yan: Uncle Chen, I’ve completely tidied up this area. If there’s nothing else, then I’ll leave first. 

Uncle Chen: Wait a bit, Little Xia.

Uncle Chen called out to Xia Yan and held up the whiskey in his hand.

Uncle Chen: If you don’t have anything to deal with for the next while, how about accompanying me in drinking a glass?

Uncle Chen: I’d like to invite you to help me try this bottle of alcohol.

Uncle Chen poured the whiskey into two glasses, then handed a glass to Xia Yan. Xia Yan took a light sip.

Xia Yan: The taste is very good, and the texture is extremely gentle.  

After hearing this, Uncle Chen smiled.

Uncle Chen: Every time I drink it, I’ll think about the taste that this batch of whiskey had right after brewing.

Uncle Chen: It was completely different from now. Its texture was very spicy, its aroma was average – it could be considered a complete failure.

Uncle Chen: I didn’t think that after some time, the taste would become good. 

Uncle Chen: So, if a matter hasn’t reached an end, one cannot give up, because the possibility of unexpected opportunities will always exist.

Xia Yan: …

Uncle Chen gave a wooden box to Xia Yan.

Uncle Chen: Wine and life are both like this.

[Flashback end]

--

Uncle Chen faced the girl at the bar counter, then turned his gaze back to Xia Yan.

Uncle Chen: There’s actually another saying about whiskey.

Xia Yan: You really have a lot of sayings for your alcohol.

Uncle Chen: Even if it’s the same kind of wine, it will have different meanings to different guests.

Uncle Chen: Someone who can deliver drinks to guests that are most suited for them is qualified to be a bartender.

Xia Yan: Then what do you want to say this time?

Uncle Chen: Hemingway once said: “There are two matters that you must absolutely not hesitate about. You must do them immediately.”

Uncle Chen: “Kiss a beautiful girl, or open a bottle of whiskey.”

Xia Yan: … Thank you.

Xia Yan tilted his head towards the person who was waiting for him at the bar counter. She was freely looking over the various kinds of alcohol behind the counter with interest.

Xia Yan: I need to wait a bit longer to open that whiskey bottle.

Xia Yan: I’ll wait until there are no impurities at all. I’ll wait until the day when I truly have no secrets from her. 

Xia Yan: At that time, I will open it without hesitation. 

-END-

[orangegreet]

No Minor Miracles | Chapter 5

War-Front Redux

A little reunion, a little madness, a little passion on the heels of a brush with death.

Aleksander saw the Inevitable now. He understood it. At least, partially.

When he grasped the tether that evening after hours spent collecting himself and setting his own expectations, it was with deliberate calm and confidence.

He pulled.

She didn’t answer.

He waited an hour but she still had not responded.

He poured himself a drink.

Standing at the window of his study, shoulders straight and head tall, he pulled again.

Minutes passed. Then several more.

No response. No twinge, even.

He swallowed the rest of his glass and set it down.

Cracking his neck to ease the tension, he straightened the buckles of his undercoat and then gave a real tug.

Nothing.

Nostrils flaring, his tossed the empty tumbler. It shattered in the fireplace.

Something flared inside him and looked around.

“…Alina…” his voice loses it’s commanding edge thanks to a wayward hopeful-uplift at the end of her name. He rolled his eyes at himself, his fingers rubbing against the skin of his forehead.

The raw and reopened hollow in his chest pulsed and he searched it for what he knew was also there. That imprint of her. Perhaps she would not come but her feelings were not as easy to hide away from him.

Could he sort out her emotions from his? He had never properly tried.

Seating himself back in the armchair he prepared to search the depths of his soul for the loose scraps of her.

He found an anger there. It was…odd to acknowledge. Anger he knew intimately, but the flavor of this was different. He could not place it.

It must be hers, nevertheless.

She was not coming.

He repeated this fact to himself over and over, forcing himself to come to terms with it.

The disappointment he felt was tempered only by his determination to meet her in a collected manner.

He resolved to give her space.

He tried again the next week. A hardy pull to the line as he leaned against his fireplace.

She did not answer.

Even if he tried he could not have stopped the whip of fury he hurled deep into their connection.

He burned for her to feel his displeasure. How dare she hide herself from him now?

She was hoping to drive him back into insanity, no doubt.

Aleksander forced a deep breath.

He would not succumb. She wanted to play him for a fool.

The continued silence he endured from her still had an added taste of her rage returned.

This was puzzling. Not having seen her for years—what could he possibly have done to earn this disdain?

Redirecting his efforts into war was reflexive. Months were spent wiled away on the war front.

The General was gifted in the field. The ability to think on his feet, to act with precision and merciless retaliation was honed by years of ugly lessons hard-learned.

His best ideas were born from the chaos of the destruction of battle.

It made sense that one such flash of brilliance would be sprung from this environment; his mind constantly worked in the background to resolve this issue with his petulant Sun Summoner.

How would he get the attention of a woman whose whereabouts were utterly unknown to him? One who refused to answer his commands and who responded to his displeasure with her own stubborn anger?

Pleasure. Raw and unrefined desire. Pressed into her very being by him. He would weave a Siren’s song into their connection and lure her to his side.

Honestly he was remiss for missing the obvious sooner. He had direct access to her emotions—enough that he could channel his own into her and light her up like a little lamp if he wanted.

She could ignore his summons as she pleased. Ignore his wrath.

She would not be able to ignore his lust.

It was a risk. Revealing the depth of his lust and his desire was admitting to an obscene vulnerability.

However, he had exhausted his options. He could not very well send her the debilitating ardor and affection he felt for her. She would hold that over his head for eternity.

He would not be dominated in that way.

A twitch of a manipulation to her emotions was not a bad concession. She desired him as well, anyway. Whatever ambivalence she wished to convince him of at this moment, he had experienced her craving for him in return. Had she not once gripped his hair to the point of pain while he drank from her trembling little cunt? He remembered with a surging heat through his body exactly what her lust-filled moan tasted like on his tongue.

This was simply a matter of reminding her.

In the safety of his tent and long after his men retired, Aleksander reclined on his bed.

Alina would not deny this, could not block it nor see it coming. She expected his rage, his resentment and wrath. She would not be equipped to guard against his lust.

He drew on the memories he had of her. Of her lips, of her fervor, her legs clamped around his waist, her thighs against his cheeks, the silk of her wrists enclosed in his hands when he pinned her to the forest floor and placed a tongue to her throat.

All those recollections folded into the same space which stored his future designs. The ones predicated on joining his body into hers and staying in her as long as he pleased. Stripping her down and filling her up again with himself, his body, his power.

Internally, he was accumulating his own ball of light as he knitted memory and fantasy into a single globe that cast tendrils of heat into his limbs.

The swell in his pants begged for attention but he ignored it for the moment, holding his concentration.

When he thought the thing potent enough, he released it, forcing it along his end of the tether and into their shared connection.

He did not need to wait long. When it hit her, he knew. The tidal wave of desire returned to him and on the heels of it, more fury than he had ever felt from her before.

Aleksander tugged. An incessant, needy pull at their connection.

She did not respond.

Under his direction, the Second Army took out camps across the enemy line, the Fjerdan permafrost was painted with wolf blood to draw out their masters and then drüskelle and Fjerdan soldiers alike were slaughtered with the ease of a plow anointing a field.

The dark mood harbored by the General made him vicious and on more than one occasion he left the confines of his tent to enter the battlefield where he personally ripped flesh from bone with disquieting pleasure.

Ivan and Fedyor monitored their General. Hesitant to challenge or even acknowledge the new state of his disposition.

Eventually the lack of intervention caught up with them.

The General, newly emerged from the blackened night with blood and victory splattered across his face, grunted in surprise as a Fjerdan wolf leapt from the shadow and latched to his shoulder. It was Ivan who stood in a panic-induced shock, frozen in place as he watched the attack.

Ivan, who lifted his hands to stop the beast, determined to crush the heart inside it’s savage chest.

Ivan, who in an inexcusable moment of complete ineptitude, forgot that his powers did not work on animals.

A sickening crunch came from the spine of his General before Fedyor stepped into the brawl to sink a blade into neck of the wolf.

Healers were called. The General lay quite motionless with a thready heartbeat. The wolf had snapped his spine and when the Healer knitted the bones back together, his eyes shot open.

Ivan watched as his superior stared into the empty snow beside him. He was muttering though Ivan could not make out the words.

After a few moments, his eyes closed again.

When the General woke, it was to a flurry of people around him.

Healers made their assessments, declared him mostly recovered and assigned him to bed rest. He fell in and out of sleep.

Ivan and Fedyor took turns keeping vigil.

Alina was there sometimes, sitting by his feet. His eyes closed.

When he opened his eyes next she stood at the end of his bed. He blinked a greeting at her. Something inside him warmed in her presence.

Though he could not keep himself awake. Again his eyes closed and he only hoped she would be there when he woke again.

A couple days passed before he had the stamina to keep his head held up and his eyes open. He found her seated on his bed, her hand inches from his.

At the sight of her, a smile twisted his face against his will.

He dismissed his lingering guests. Soldiers filed out, unsure if they should follow his orders given the state of him.

Everyone was gone save his sunbeam and the warmth was back. His eyes caught on her lips and he thought if he did not speak he might try to pin her down before she could disappear. He would capture her like a lightning bug in a jar and keep her as a trophy on his nightstand.

“My little Saint has come to call at last. Or…is this still a fever dream?”

He began to edge into a seated position and groaned. She glared at him.

“Are you in pain?” She asked.

He shrugged cautiously and adjusted his pillows for support. “Mostly healed now, I imagine. The rest will pass.”

When his eyes met hers, he found a fire in them. He could not hold her gaze; his brow furrowed.

He fiddled with his bed clothes, eventually pushing them off himself and stacking one leg over the other in repose, hands clasped in his lap to contribute to the picture of ease he was arranging.

“To what do I owe the visit, Alina?” He asked, business-like.

She scoffed. “You do not—I felt it, you fool. You. On the cusp of death. I figured I should come check you kept your pulse.” She spoke with derision in her voice. As if it was appropriate to arrive furious next to someone’s sick bed.

He sneered and looked away.

“Thoughtful of you to pay the courtesy then. However, I am very much alive as you can tell. If that is all, you can run along now—“

She cut him off, “In case you are too dense to pick up on this, I find your latest attempt to get my attention entirely deranged. I am disgusted by it.”

His composure dissolved into disbelief.

“My latest attempt?” He raised his voice at her, “You think I would cut my line at the edge of death just to lure you to my side?”

Her smoldering glare was unmoved. Plainly, she did.

“Am I so desperate for your company that I would gamble my life on a battle field in hopes that I could—what? Endure another five minute row with you across this—“ he gestured between them, “measly connection only to be abandoned by you for a few more years?”

Someone stirred at the tent flap at the sound of his raised voice.

He cast a wall of shadows around them, dense enough to muffle his sounds.

“Forgive me for thinking you would stoop to such depravity.” Alina stared at him, her tone dry, “Your prior attempts at getting my attention were quite dignified, after all.”

Then as if she could not stop the words from flying out of her mouth, “Constant attempts to pull me over, to force me to bend to your commands. And then when I did not answer—it was pathetic to think I would fall prey to some burst of carnal lust for you. As if what you have to offer me is so special.” The fire in her eyes flashed, “Your cock and your mouth are entirely replaceable, I assure you.”

He seethed through the sting of it. “Let us leave my cock out of it considering you have not yet sampled it yourself. And let it be known I tried appealing to your good sense and you would not comply. Was it so wrong to try and tempt your baser instincts?”

“I will not be called on like a dog. Beckoned to your side when you’re bored and looking for someone to torture.” Alina hissed.

He his anger tinged with confusion.

“I was not aware you found me so wholly undesirable. Forgive me thinking it, I must have been misled by all your physical advances in the past.”

She clenched her jaw and looked away. He thought he saw tears and felt even more bewildered.

Alina brushed her hands down her dress and began to get to her feet.

“Now I’ve satisfied myself of your survival, I’m leaving.”

“No.” Aleksander’s hand reached for her shoulder before she could stand. “Stay a little longer. Alina—”

She tried to yank out of his reach, her collar rolling away to expose her skin in the process.

His eyes caught on a cluster of yellowing bruises around her neck. Unmistakable in origin.

She stared at him with a flash of worry, pulling her collar back in place.

His breath seemed to have left him for a moment while his heart ramped up into a jarring pound.

He pushed a short breath through his nose, a rueful smile hung on his face. “Squirreled away a lover, have you? Adorable.” His tone was dangerous.

“You do not own my pleasure, Aleksander—”

“Enough of this. Whoever it is. Him. Her. I don’t care. End it.”

She doubled down, tipping her jaw up at him. “You do not own me, Aleksander.” She repeated.

“You gave yourself to me—“ He shouted, “You were made for me. I endured centuries waiting for you—“ They were both on their feet and his words were snarled as he shook her by her arms.

“I was made to be your balance,” she shouted back. “Not to be your pet. And centuries have done wonders for your maturity—behaving like a petulant child who sets aside his toy and then acts surprised that he’s lost it.”

Alina’s voice trembled with her anger and tears collected in her eyes again. “As if you remained some celibate monk in honor of me these last few years.”

He said nothing.

She shoved his chest, “Well? Have you?” She was screaming at him, eyes blazing and he was sure if they were together right now her light would burn him.

She pushed him again and he gripped her wrists. His chest throbbed and he squeezed his eyes shut against it.

Something clicked into place.

The pounding in his chest when he was with Inna for the last time. The pounding that was foreign to him after years of disuse.

Alina tried to jerk her wrists back but his grip tightened and he kept them, palms still pressed to his chest.

“Answer me—” she demanded, pushing him again where she had leverage.

Aleksander fell back a step. “You were there.” The change in volume made the words practically a whisper to her ears.

“Yes.” Alina growled at him, savage as the wolf who broke his bones, “Thank you, by the way, for inviting me to watch as you fucked some otkazat’sya woman as if your fucking life depended on it.”

Her breath was hot on his jaw even as he backed his head away from her challenge. “Was it good for you? Saints, you were desperate for it, I could tell.

“Then you insult me by trying to bring me back to you the next night after? You are pathetic. Petty.” She spat in his face.

He didn’t respond. He didn’t let her go. She struggled.

She could leave at any moment if she wanted. He tried to cling to the fact that she still had not left.

“Alina.” He held her palms to his chest with one hand and pulled her body into his with the other arm wrapped around her waist.

“No—“

“I swear I did not know. I did not mean to—”

She turned her head away and screamed again, “I don’t care I don’t care! I will burn you from the inside out when I see you again, Darkling. I will fill your eyes with the light of a noon-day sun and I will not stop until it comes bursting out of your mouth and scorches your tongue,” She promised. Her hands tried to conjure but he would not let go of her wrists and it would not work over their connection.

They both knew it would not work. She tried anyway.

“You will wish that wolf had snapped your neck and your back a thousand times over while I set your live body on fire with my power. You will burn up like a dry leaf and I will be the one who feels all the pleasure. Just me. Only me.”

Tears were streaking down her face and their eyes were locked and he did not let her pull away.

“I did not know, Alina—I would never have—” His voice was cooling to her temper and he kept a steady gaze on her, willing her to gentle.

The passion she contained never failed to surprise him. That she spoke with ease about eviscerating him should have unsettled him. Instead he found himself drawn deeper into her. The Light within her could strike him anywhere she pleased and he would reform again at her back. He would surround her greedily, his Shadow unable to do anything except press itself to Light. It could not detach. Shadow did not exist except at her mercy. He could accept this now.

“Do not lie to me, Aleksander. I saw with my own eyes. I saw how you touched her. I cannot stop seeing—”

“Wait. Please, wait.” His hand held tight to her wrists, keeping her in place as he crossed spotted his discarded kefta, still crusted with his blood. With a furtive glance at her, he reached for it and sorted through the pockets.

When he stood in front of her again, he held up the blue and gold scarf for her inspection.

“That is mine.”

He nodded.

She touched it and then dropped her hand.

“This means nothing to me. This is a distraction.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “For a little while these last years, I did a thorough job of shutting you out. Letting you go again. It was not easy but it made not being with you more manageable. The day I called out to you—though, I swear I did not know that I did, this was returned to my room.”

Alina flicked her eyes to the scarf and back to him, distrust stubbornly clinging to her face.

“You must have left it in your room at the Little Palace. Seeing a real piece of you, proof of you after years of pretending you did not exist, undid me. What you saw—though I did not and would not ever have willingly invited you to view it—was me trying to shut you back out.” He shook his hair back and met her eyes.

“It did not work. Clearly. I will no longer pretend that it is a possibility, never again. You know what I am. You know what I want. I will possess you as I am doomed to be possessed by you and I will not be satisfied until I stake my claim for the world to see.”

Alina leaned in to him, eyes blazing in want as her fury was cooled by his words. He delighted in how quickly she whirled through emotions, delighted in persuading her.

“You will not skirt your punishment.” She said.

He leaned into her ear, pressing his lips there and whispered, “My punishment only promises your body will be next to me again.”

His hands wrapped around her hips. “I would take your fire and let it consume me if it brought you a hint of ecstasy.” Palms moved up her ribs and his thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts.

“There is nothing I would not do to bring you pleasure, Alina.” His lips moved to her neck. He grazed his teeth over her pulse.

His hands were closing in on her breasts; fingers long enough to curl around her ribs even while his thumbs circled over her clothed nipples. A soft moan fell against his chest. Her hands fisted into the black linen of his shirt and he smiled.

“You own my body.” He spoke into her jaw, “I will own yours and you will never want for anything.” Cheeks brushed against each other as she nodded. “I do not share, Alina.” Her hips pressed into his involuntarily. “I will keep you sated to the point of recklessness, insanity. This is my vow.”

His eyes looked into hers and as he sat on the bed, pulling her into his lap. The rigid peak of his clothed cock met her cunt and they both hissed. Aleksander watched as she rubbed herself over him in a slow slide.

He still had not kissed her. As if realizing it in that moment, Alina glared at him, grasping his jaw in her hand and reigning her lips upon his. Her hands kept his shoulders in place even as he fell back on the bed.

He matched her intensity, pulling at her face with his hand while his other adjusted her position back over his cock. The moan she exhaled into his mouth spurred him to lick at the seam of her lips until they opened for him.

They wrestled, rolling over each other a couple times before settling on their sides. Her hands explored his body and his sought the wetness between her legs and when his fingers slipped into her they shared a groan. Her mouth never left his. Aleksander pulled back only far enough to watch her eyes squeezed shut in blunt ecstasy while they panted.

She squealed and quieted and he kissed her lips and slowed his fingers, wiggling them in a test of her sensitivity. The answering smile was lazy.

When he brought his fingers to his tongue, she watched with half-lidded eyes as he made slow laps.

It was not prudent to tell him that she would have to re-do this orgasm when she returned to her body. She stored the memory of his fingers, covered in her slick and cleaned with his tongue.

The promise of insanity did not seem so objectionable.

“This is new.” He brushed his fingers over the glittering scales clasped around her wrist.

She blushed and withdrew her hand. He did not know for certain what it was but he had a strong suspicion.

“A gift, only.” She looked away from his eyes and kissed his jaw. The lie burned between them but he did not mind it. He played on her guilt, calculating that she would be reluctant to lie to him twice in a row.

“Alina, how is it possible that no one yet knows about the Sun Summoner? You bandy about using your powers—presumably anyway because rumors do emerge about you yet no one proclaims your existence with any certainty. It should not be possible.”

Alina shrugged with a secret smile and pressed her lips to his neck. “People believe what suits them best. You know this. The commoners want for a savior so rumors are born. Those in power want to keep it and therefore will not acknowledge a threat even when the evidence is delivered to their doorstep.”

It was casual, brisk even, the way she spoke of herself as a threat. Aleksander could not hide the surge of heat it brought on and descended to her ear where nipped and pulled like a hungry beast.

She laughed. A breathy, delighted thing and he smiled against her cheek. All else forgotten.

“Let me come to you. I need your skin against mine. I need your power twisted in with mine. I will have it.”

Her breasts pressed against his chest under the force of his hand at her back. The way her breath quickened was sign enough that she wanted it too. If that weren’t evident, the pull on their tether was so tight it was almost uncomfortable. His forehead fell to hers.

“N-not yet.”

He growled and she placed consoling hands to his face.

“We are dangerous, you and I. And I’ve told you before, I have business to take care of before I can come to you. I will in the end. I swear to you it is in sight, just…be patient for me. Believe me when I say you are mine and I am yours.”

A rumble answered from his throat as his nails scratched at her yellowing love bites. Placed there by some unworthy set of lips and teeth.

Her answering laugh was uneasy.

“They are nothing, Sasha. Nothing to me. You will see.”

He forced himself to change the subject. Even speaking of someone else, someone who had access to the taste of her skin began to spin him.

“We are dangerous? You said just now. Because of the threat we make to the throne. Because together we are the rightful rulers of Ravka. You do mean for us rule in the end?”

She glanced away and he smoothed a thumb through the crease in her brow.

“Not just threats to the throne, no. Not just rulers of Ravka.”

He waited while she weighed her words.

“We are a threat to the world. I am a threat…”

Aleksander watched her lips, waiting for her to continue. She looked small and fearful.

He imagined her as a child, waking in the night from a bad dream.

“I have felt it…when we were together. The only time we were together,” she amended, glancing at him apologetically.

“Within my powers—when they mingled with yours, it was like…like a kind of certainty that if I wanted—” She twisted her face to look at him with the full force of fiery gold eyes, “If I wanted, I could break the whole world open.

“Split everything and everyone and the whole of the universe apart until all that was left was Light and Shadow. Just us. Left in the quiet of it all.”

His heart was racing.

Or perhaps it was the tether vibrating on the frequency of a humming bird's wings?

Both of their breaths became heavy and they sunk closer into the empty space between them.

Alina’s eyes rested on his lips and her voice was breathy again.

“It is ridiculous, isn't it? Thinking I could do that?”

He shook his head, surprised at his inability to string coherent words together.

“Not if you want it, no. If you want it, then it is simply a fact. A truth.”

“It is not what I want.” She whispered.

He nodded in understanding, sinking further into her.

“Is it what you want, Sasha?”

A smirk twitched on his face and then he claimed her mouth again. When he pulled her body over his, running his hands over the backs of her thighs as they opened around his waist, he thought he would not mind it.

If centuries of walking the earth taught him anything, it was how expendable everyone and everything could become, given enough time.

Her Light was creation itself. It lit up within him because where there was light, the shadows would cluster around it; to smother or to worship, he could not be sure. Though he knew it was her Light that began it all.

It would be fitting for her Light to finish it.

His little Sun, expanding around him, swallowing up the whole of the universe in her Light then falling back on him where he could surround her like a cooling Shadow shroud until she decided to burst forth to create something new again.

[uk-news-talking-politics]

The Bank of Mum and Dad is a Ponzi scheme - and it's time for a crackdown

By Chloe Timperley

When property expert Henry Pryor tweeted that the Bank of Mum and Dad (BOMAD) had become a "giant Ponzi scheme", he was referring to first-time buyers receiving help from home-owning parents. But the problem runs much deeper than that.

For too long, the home ownership dream has been conceptualised as 'getting on the property ladder'. This ignores the fact that the ladder is broken. BOMAD now supports house purchases at every rung. Upsizing is just as hard - if not harder - than buying a starter home, and existing homeowners under 45 rely more on parents for financial help than first-timers.

According to Land Registry data analysed by Project Etopia, the price jump between the first and second rungs has more than doubled since the financial crisis. Lloyds Bank also found six in ten 'second steppers' think moving up the ladder is harder than getting onto it in the first place. I have witnessed the impact of this first-hand. A friend of mine bought her first house after saving up while living with parents. She and her partner have since sold up and moved back in with family so they can save enough to upsize.

This is typical of the 'boomerang generation'. Research from Loughborough university revealed this week that the majority of Britain's 20 somethings and a third of those in their early 30s still live in the family home. This is important for several reasons. Firstly, it entrenches privilege. Parents on benefits often struggle to accommodate adult working children, as the child's earnings push up the family's household income, triggering benefit reductions that leave the whole family worse off. Others simply don't have the space or live too far away from the child's workplace.

The immense privilege of living rent-free with parents is seldom acknowledged when heroic stories of first-time buyer successes are reported in the media. A 2018 headline in the Daily Mail is a typical example. It suggested a young woman accumulating her deposit through a lifestyle of extreme frugality, yet the article revealed that she'd also been able to work full-time while living at home with her mum rent-free.

By pushing false narratives about becoming a homeowner, underprivileged individuals who stay stuck renting are portrayed as failures, profligate or irresponsible. In reality, their only real 'failing' is that they lack a cushion of family money, or free housing, to fall back on.

Another, less talked-about problem is the financial strain BOMAD lending places on parents. If BOMAD were a real bank it would be the 11th biggest mortgage lender in the UK. This finding came from a 2019 report by Legal & General, which estimated that UK parents supplied £6.3bn in home-buying assistance for their offspring in 2018, with the average parental loan or outright gift coming in at £24,100 – up £6,000 on the previous year.

Probably because of the size of such gifts, one in four BOMAD lenders are not confident their savings will last them through retirement. Fifteen per cent have had to accept a lower standard of living because of their generosity. Pensions are in fact a key source of BOMAD funding. From age 55, 25% of a personal pension pot can be withdrawn as a tax-free lump sum. L&G warns that over-55s are increasingly using this facility to gift their offspring a housing deposit, even if they can ill-afford the blow to their retirement funds.

Another popular source of BOMAD funding is the parental home itself. This is where the housing Ponzi scheme becomes most apparent. The price comparison website MoneySuperMarket found that one in six parents who remortgage are doing it to provide financial support for children, a third of whom will go on to use this handout for a housing deposit. Lenders have also begun to explicitly offer BOMAD products, where the parental home is taken as collateral for the children's mortgage borrowing.

But if parents lack the credit score or financial stability to remortgage in the traditional sense, there is another, more insidious option: the lifetime mortgage. These give outright owners a cash sum in return for allowing the lender to take possession of their property when they die or go into long-term care. Incidentally, L&G offers these lifetime mortgages to unencumbered baby boomers as a tool for helping their children to buy a home.

Such circular finance is dangerous, because it artificially inflates property values beyond what future buyers are likely to be able to afford. Tomorrow's 50 and 60-somethings might still be paying off 35-year mortgages, or they might need the capital 'tied up' in their homes to augment a woefully under-funded pension pot, or to meet long-term care costs.

BOMAD poses a systemic risk, not only to the property market, but to the entire banking system. Robbing Peter to pay Paul risks mass negative equity as BOMAD becomes less solvent. No politician will want to touch this policy idea, but the unpalatable truth is that BOMAD must be reined in by the regulatory authorities.

In fact, the UK's second biggest lender, Nationwide, has already seen the writing on the wall and restricted BOMAD gifts for homebuyers, so it may be only a matter of time before others follow suit. Lending has tightened considerably in recent months and many are now bracing for heavy falls in the housing market as the economic impact of the pandemic starts to bite.

It's only natural for parents to want to help their children – even to their own detriment. But collectively, they are doing more harm than good. Now is the time for lenders to put a stop to the madness.

[elencelebrindal]

How do you still have time to write your fanfiction, even if you're so busy? I never find the time to work on mine :(

In short: give yourself a set amount of time everyday, as small or as big as you want, and do nothing but write. 

In long:

I managed to find an efficient way to have at least a bit of time to write, since it’s my main hobby and my way of getting rid of stress.  Basically, if I know I’ll be studying the entire day (I normally take an hour break to go for a walk while I still can, otherwise I’ll just go crazy), I’ll stop studying to have lunch, which normally takes me maybe 10/15 minutes max, and then write for 30 minutes more or less.  Unfortunately, this only gives me time to work only on one project, while some time ago I could easily work on two or three simultaneously, but it’s a good way to ensure that 1. I get to do something I enjoy and 2. I get to rest for a bit before studying again. 

Luckily for me, I got so used to writing and coming up with stuff that I can write up to 3/4 full pages before running out of time, so I can get as much as I can from a single day. This is the main reason why I’m able to keep up with my fanfiction. The second main reason is even simpler: I write shorter chapters that I’m used to, save for some exceptions, and I only publish one chapter a week. This gives me enough time to write, even if I have to skip writing for 4/5 days. 

Other hobbies I have, like drawing, I keep for the evening, when my brain is too tired to function and I can just relax with a good old pencil in hand, so during my afternoon break I can focus just on writing. 

Other than that, though, I had to put my other stuff on hiatus. I have a Yu-Gi-Oh! fanfiction going on, that I had to stop because I’m writing it in both Italian and English and it has pretty long chapters, so it takes too long for me to even think about writing it now.  And I have a BNHA series going, that I also had to pause because I’m writing it all in English, and I cannot focus enough during such a short break to write a fully fledged work in a different language that is actually good.  This specific fanfiction I have going on now, the Saint Seiya collection of stories, is only in Italian. I don’t have a translation to worry about (in fact, I postponed an eventual English translation to when I actually have time to put into it), and it’s much easier for me to come up with stuff in Italian rather than in English. 

If you want to have some time to work on your stuff, if you can give yourself 20/30 minutes of your time daily, you can write a lot without realizing it, and you won’t waste time.  If you work and go back home tired at the end of the day, find 5/10 minutes of your time, sit in front of your screen and piece of paper, and write something. Anything, even a single sentence.

I literally used this last method myself last year, when I used to go to my university in the morning and come back in the evening. 10 minutes and a couple sentences, even when I was so tired I just wanted to sleep without even eating, helped me unwind some of the tension I accumulated during the day and work towards complete chapters.  If you’re on an even tighter schedule, grab a piece of paper while you’re cooking and write down the general idea you have for the story. I do this when I’m panic studying before an exam, days that I normally spend from morning to evening just flipping through books and notes without breaks, and it works amazingly. As soon as I have time, I go through what I wrote, write it on my computer, and then go from there to an entire story with ease.  Sometimes I even take notes on my phone, when ideas and dialogues come to mind, so I can always be ready to write even if I just have 5 minutes. 

This is not a perfect method, and if you’re having multiple works going on you might want to either pause some of them or divide them according to your schedule, but I find it work perfectly for me. Doing this, I actually managed to write more than 10 chapters in less than a month, but remember: only because I focused only on one thing. If I were to try more, I probably would still be stuck at chapter 3.  I had a Yu-Gi-Oh! collab going on with my friend that I had to stop, and I had more stuff that I had to give up on because if I have to prioritize, I prioritize my own works. Some other collabs I’m still hopeful about, included to Saint Seiya ones, but with just 30 minutes a day it’s incrediblly difficult. 

Lastly, I don’t use those 30 minutes to write on this blog. I normally keep the posts I do on here for the evening, and if I want something to be posted during the day I simply write it the evening before and postpone it using tumblr’s feature.  Most daily posts you see on this blog, save for some answers to asks that I genuinely want to answer as soon as possible, are actually programmed posts I wrote the evening before. This is the reason why some of your asks take a while to be answered, and it’s also the reason why I’m writing this particular answer at 0:50am.  Sometimes, if it’s just a simple reblog or a very short post, I use my phone. I also answer to people that want to chat with me, even if slowly, because I keep the app on my phone.  But anything longer, that takes a computer and much more effort, get the treatment you read above. 

And now, since it’s late and I’m as tired as my pokemon after being knocked out by Cynthia, I’m going to sleep. I hope my answer helped!

[royalnoir]

Real Estate Problem Solver

Advantages There are many areas one can invest in. Since I was 15 yr old I have looked for the fastest, most effective way to accumulate a lot of huge selection, with the least amount of risk. I am now 58. Even while looking for this road to truth, I spent time and effort in the school of hard knocks. The school of very hard knocks is a very interesting but painful school to attend. It is also the most expensive way to learn something, but if you graduate you have a PHD in what to do and not do together with time and money. The schools I attended happen to be: Investing in businesses as a silent partner, owning my own enterprises, working for another family member-in my case my father, selecting publicly traded stocks and securities, penny mining stock option, commodity trading, investing in gold and silver, real estate private lending, housing development, real estate remodeling, buying foreclosure properties. I equally worked as a real estate problem solver/matchmaker, bringing business owners as well as business buyers, and matching up real estate owners utilizing real estate buyers. Writing about all of these activities would take the encyclopedia, so we will limit this essay towards the kinds of situations you can run across in the real estate school for hard knocks. I will present my solution with the assigned situation. There are more than one possible solution and I receive you to come up with other possible solutions as you read. Any time you get some value from my experiences that will hopefully decrease tuition to the real estate school of hard knocks. Experience free to e-mail me your comments, alternate solution or perhaps stories. Do, please, let me know that it is all right in my circumstances to publish them. My Real Estate Philosophy As a way of presenting myself, I thought you might find what lessons I have discovered, after all these years of real estate, interesting. Buy real estate property instead of stocks, bonds, mutual funds, or commodities. If you pick a winner in one of these non-real estate areas you can take 5-10 times your money. When you are wrong, in one of these non-real estate areas, you can actually loose up to 90% of your bucks. In real estate, if you are not greedy-not trying to get rich quick-in one year, you can make 100 times your money, on the upside. The particular downside risk is only based on how well you looked at the possibilities ahead of time. If you did, the downside risk is without a doubt reduced to only the holding time to fix an error. If you rush in and do not explore all the possibilities of a small business venture, you can actually loose 100% of your money. In my thought process an upside of 100 times profit is better than 10 times profit. My philosophy on real estate ownership seems to have changed in the last 15 years. I used to think that reselling at the top of the market was the smart move and buying from the crash. Now I feel that buying when prices are actually down is still a smart move but never selling will be way to go. In order to hold on to a property in a down market you require the most proper planning to survive the crash. This I call up a back door or emergency plan. This is have a very good plan and knowing what you will do if everything travels wrong with you original plan. When you have a backup prepare, you rarely need it. This is the basis of my vision. With this understanding, you might more clearly see why I did exactly what I did in these situations. The Stories and content: The area of real estate investing is one of the most complex mainly because it is a combination of law and real estate. It is one of the most helpful because fortunes are made and lost in this area, and the statistics are so enormous. Lastly it is an area where criminals can make a lot of money and many times get away with it. Following will be some stories (case histories) I have dealt with and some posts I have written on the subject of fraud in real estate. Finally, I had included an article on the basics of foreclosures and properties in general, for your interest. I hope you enjoy them. The Memories: Story #1: It was early March 2000 and That i received a call from Kevin. He said that he had heard about me from some mutual friends. The guy wanted to speculate in buying HUD houses (Properties the fact that the Government had foreclosed on). He wanted to buy them, take care of them up and then sell them at a profit. He previously heard that I had bought many foreclosures in the 70's and 80's and he was hoping I could encourage him. We met for lunch and he told me his life story. The important part of this conversation will be that he had bought a boarded up 14 appliance apartment building in downtown San Bernardino, across the street, collected from one of of the roughest high schools in California. By the last part of the meeting, I had figured out that he had overpaid with regards to $75, 000 for the building, he had already wasted $200, 000 trying to remodel it, and it was still $100, 000 away from being finished. He had bought it 1 . 5 years ago and a large part of his costs was the eye on all his loans, related to this project. She was now broke, and in deep trouble, but also in his mind, the badly needed money was upcoming. It is interesting to note where he got the money to get this project. 4 years earlier he was given cash to buy an apartment building by his father. He was given enough money that he only needed a very small $150, 000 real estate loan to purchase a building in Pasadena that cost him a total of $525, 000. To buy the San Bernardino rehab project, he first refinanced the first trust deed on the Pasadena building and ran the loan balance to $385, 000. When which will money was gone he borrowed $74, 000 in the form of second Trust Deed on both the Pasadena and San Bernardino properties. By the way, that loan cost him 15% interest and $15, 000 in up front fees to see the money. Before we parted, I told him that they made a very expense mistake in buying San Bernardino. I explained that from the day he bought a building it was a sure bet that the project may fail. I then had to tell him that I would not lend the pup any money on San Bernardino, to save his butt. Covering the next 2 months I received periodic phone calls, sharing me the progress of the fund raising. One of those posts I was told that the existing 2nd Trust Action lender was saying that he might give Kevin all the added $100, 000 he needed to finish the venture. At the same time, Kevin also believed he had found a bank or investment company that might refinance all the loans of San Bernardino. The issue with the bank loan was that the appraisal fee was $3, 000, and it had to be paid in advance, even to just simply apply for the loan. Again Kevin asked me for money. Again I refused to put more good money along his black hole. Then one morning I got a label from Kevin, "If I don't make the $2, 000 payment to the 2nd trust deed holder, he'll almost certainly start foreclosure in 2 days. Kevin also explained "The 2nd trust deed lender said that he would certainly buy the Pasadena apartment building for what I had settled it, 4 years ago, $525, 000. " The feature had a stipulation to it. Kevin had to bring the actual loan current first. In my mind, if Kevin could quite possibly bring the loan current, why would he sometimes bother to sell the property for a wholesale price? I wasn't able to believe what I was hearing. After hearing involves I decide that it is time I stop saying hardly any and help. What Kevin thought he wanted was initially a real estate loan for a lot of money. The truth is, that finances was not the solution to his problem. The problem had to be distinct from what Kevin believed, which is why the problem persisted. The real issue was not more borrowing. More borrowing meant more money downward the drain. Experience has taught me, "If this challenge was what Kevin thought it was, it wouldn't deemed a problem. " What does this phrase mean? The businessman has a financial set back. He thinks that through some short term funding he can recover from the set back not to mention return to the top. After looking around, our businessman will usually have the money, but strangely enough the problem doesn't resolve. When the problem did correct itself, then the businessman was ideal about what the problem was, and the problem would be gone. Normally the money doesn't help, but the businessman doesn't understand that. The person doesn't realize that the problem wasn't money in the first place. Should it were, the problem would now be gone. Lets us continue the explanation. The last money borrowed is now gone as well as problem persists, so our businessman goes out to find a higher cost to solve the problem that didn't solve with the money she borrowed, the first time. What happens the second time? The same thing. The money is required up and still the problem continues. Our businessman is implementing the wrong problem. The problem is not money, or the problem would've been gone. Kevin thought the problem was money. The software wasn't. He had already poured $300, 000 into the San Bernardino building, on top of the $209, 000 1st Put your trust in Deed loan that came about when he bought any building. Before he was finished, he spent through $500, 000 in a building that needs $100, 000 to accomplish, but was only worth $475, 000, after it had been finished. What could I do? Use what the good master gave me. 30 years of experience, on the subject of arising from problems that I created when I was young and eco-friendly. Here was the war strategy. I got Kevin for you to agree to turn over total management of the two properties with me. Knowing that I was managing the property and working on the things I believed was the correct problem, I felt snug about loaning money on this deal. If I can't put your trust in myself to solve this problem, whom can I trust? I begun by loaning Kevin $25, 000 to make needed vehicle repairs to the Pasadena building, pay the property taxes and to produce the first and second loans current on the Pasadena place only. Nothing was to be spent at this time, on the San Bernardino building. Now that I controlled the Pasadena flat building, I discovered what repairs the building needed. Typically the list was so long it took one man with three months, full time, to fully handle it. I then did a very descriptive market study and determined what the market would spend in rents. I asked the tenants for a menu of everything they wanted done in their apartments to be content. I then did everything the tenants requested and I then raised their rents 30%. After the building was 100 %, I raised the rents another 15%. The value of your building went up and I received an deliver for $725, 000. This was $200, 000 more than the value 6 months earlier. I put it into escrow, then I realized that I could raise the rents some more. I just raised the rents again in escrow and pressured the buyer to pay another $25, 000 for the building. Sending the price to $750, 000. That $225, 000 turn a profit was needed to help cover the money being lost throughout San Bernardino. Author's Note: The escrow fell by means of and the building was kept until this update, 12 , 5, 2004. The building is now in escrow pertaining to $1, 583, 000 What did I do about San Bernardino? I contacted the seller/lender and asked your pet if he would like me to pull the safety guard out of the building and let him have it instruction online foreclosure. He didn't want it back, even though he pretended that he was willing to do that. He offered me $25, 000 in incentives to get me to personally provide loans the money necessary for the completion of the building, so the person wouldn't have to take it back. For 3 months he attempted to get me to put money into the building, with the indisputable fact that once I put my money in I wouldn't disappear from it. The real story was that I wouldn't put the dime into that black hole until I discovered how to make it recover at least $100, 000 of Kevin's lost money. I asked for a $70, 000 lower price on the note, and offered to pay him off. We all negotiated for two months. Just when I was ready to surface finish the deal, the seller sold his note to someone else just for only a $30, 000 discount. I was not able to produce the money I wanted because now the new note holder sought 100% of interest and principal due. This used a monkey wrench into my negotiating. All this occasion, I had a buyer standing in the wings to buy the particular building from Kevin while I was negotiating. My spouse and i was then forced to sell the property to this buyer and also Kevin recovered only a little bit of his investment. The lender plus I were both playing a high stakes poker adventure. I lost this round. If I could have gotten typically the payoff reduced, Kevin would received a large hunk in money from an "as is" sale. This is what When i call playing "Craps" on a very big Monopoly panel. Author's Note: The buyer, thinking he was going to put $125, 000 to finish the remodeling, notified me, after one year, that he had spent $300, 000 to finish the making. The apartment building values were increasing rapidly do your best period, so Kevin's project was increasing in importance at the same time the buyer was going deeper and deeper to construction costs. The buyer made out all right in the end. Should the market had died, he would have lost $200, 000 on this building after Kevin had already lost a lot. It's all about timing, isn't it? Kevin learned that dollars alone was not the answer to his problems; he expected a Genie, to turn his turkey into a swan. Tale #2 Janet is the daughter of one of my oldest and wealthiest friends and clients. We have been doing realty deals together since 1975. Janet and her groom started buying distressed real estate in Phoenix Arizona through 1994, which was 8 years ago when it was the thing to try. It was now Dec 2000. The market appears to be slowing down as well as did after September 11, 2001. Janet had been continuously borrowing money from her father, whenever things received too difficult. She later sold everything in The phoenix airport and bought property in Northern California. Then on 1999, one year before I was brought in, she began buying real estate in Kansas City. One day Janet's papa called me and asked for my help. He had credited his daughter $200, 000 and felt that every little thing she owned was upside down. (Loans more than the market worth. ). This was further complicated by the fact that if your lover sold her properties, to pay off her father, the capital advances taxes would eat up any cash, from the sale. As well as all this, Janet kept asking for more money to keep up the installments on the properties that had a negative cash flow and couldn't have enough rental income. He hired me to help the daughter and agreed to pay my fee. I would manage this 40 years old kid, to get her to return the woman fathers $200, 000 and make herself totally arrears free. Janet and I met. She was remarkable. She did know what she was doing, as far as selecting good real estate deals. She owned, at the time of our appointment, 10 properties located in 2 different states, and it has $500, 000 in equity. If we could get it through, before her father had a stroke things could well be great. Janet agreed to the arrangement, happily, if I might be her adviser, not his. Her father agreed to fill whatever money was requested as long as I approved the software. Also I had to be the one to ask Janet's dad for the money, since the upset between the farther and daughter was basically getting unbearable. This is what we did. A list of needed maintenance tasks was created for each of the 11 properties. Bids were been given and the work ordered to be done within 30 days. I thought this was not to take months. It had to be done immediately therefore we could go to step two. Step 2 was to put on the market many of the expensive Northern California property. To my disbelief, Janet wanted to move her family, to a new city, in the center of all this and her father agreed to let her complete the work. She had found an old run down house that the woman felt was undervalued. That meant that her good old residence was put into the group of properties to sell. Market is what we planned to do. Everything was to be placed on the market, and sold at the best price to be been given, but sold regardless. The property in Kansas was that should be repaired and fully rented. The properties that could be offered for sale at what we thought was full retail, were even put on the market. The plan was that when everything was advertised, the father would get paid off; the loans on the staying properties would be paid off and the balance of the cash will be put into the bank. Since all of the Kansas deals appear to be a good quality investment, Janet could now continue to buy more Kansas property, (she had only been spending $25, 000 on each deal) but for all cash. The rental prices coming in would generate enough income for her family to live a life on without having to ask for money from dad or touching her investment nest egg. That was the plan. I forgot one last thing. Because many of the properties had been bought yrs ago on a 1031 exchanges (tax-free exchange), the capital gain tax burden was going to eat up the cash proceeds. That was one of the traps Jesse fell into. She felt she couldn't sell with out buying a replacement. Of course by not liquidating before starting anew, she would never get out of debt with her real estate providers or her father. The solution, for this problem was much easier than one would think. First, the father did a 1031 exchange with Janet for one of the big profit properties. The father sold Janet his personal residences for basically no money down. Now Janet rented her father the place he lives in. So much for capital gains place a burden on on the $150, 000 profit in that one big selling. The second big profit was in the house Janet currently were living in. That was tax-free under the current laws. Since the other sorts of houses sold had smaller profits, it was decided the business decision to get out of debt was more crucial than avoiding paying any taxes. Author's Note: Which was the plan. So what happened? Janet decided she didn't would like to sell the junk in Kansas and fired others. She refused to pay her father back and as regarding December 2004 he had not seen a dime. Dad has deducted what she owes him from him / her inheritance, which will be put into a trust administered by the brother for the benefit of the grandchildren. Real estate in Los angeles skyrocketed after 9/11/01 terrorist attack and her real estate all doubled in value. Summary: Everyone thinks the fact that his or her problem is not confrontable and therefore unsolvable. I have found who someone other than myself can solve my un-confrontable challenges in 10 min and I can do the same for the kids. It is not a question of being smarter, or more experienced, nonetheless experience helps a lot when coming up with easy solutions, promptly. It is really that we all are willing to confront someone else's problems quite easy than our own. When we are willing to confront our own problem head-on, solutions begin to appear miraculously. What I do is guidance people take their mountains and turn them within molehills. The molehills are then flattened with ease. Instructions to learn: First, do not think you are smarter than the individuals passed this way before you; you're not. Second, markets never go up forever, have not performed as if they will. Third, if you are not even prepared for the worst, it will kill you. If you are completely ready, it will only hurt a little. You will survive and can be purchased away much richer in the end.

[naberiuz]

drowning in the depths of you (don’t save me)

[modern fantasy + mermaid guan shan AU]

Chapter 1 | Read on: AO3

Chapter 2: Questions of Identity

Guan Shan finds out about He Tian’s background. Little does he know, what he learns only scratches the surface of He Tian’s true identity. 

He then has an unsettling encounter with a man with bright yellow eyes and hair as white as ash. The man’s words leave his mind in disarray.

A/N: 

1 HKD = 0.13 USD = 0.11 Euro

哥哥 (Gēgē) - older brother. Can be affixed to a name (-ge) to indicate brotherly relationship.

---

An ancient Chinese writer named Lai Guo once wrote into detail about his experience of meeting a mermaid. He claimed to have met a woman so devastatingly beautiful, whose upper body was of a human but had a fish's tail instead of legs. He wrote of how the scales on her tail shone like the rainbow, of how the spaces between her fingers had a thin sheet of translucent skin. Her tail had been lime green, the same color as her hair, but her eyes were of a soft amber. He wrote about her voice as she sang, the ocean’s calling as he called it, her song so absurdly mesmerizing he could not put the sound into words. Only that he had felt the pull of the ocean at his heart and the cascade of all emotions at once. 

Sometimes she cried as she sang, and Lai Guo felt nothing but the weight of her overwhelming sadness. When her tears fell on the sand, they turned into exquisite pearls.

At that time, no one really took his writing seriously. It was said that he died months after he had completed his work, feverish and mumbling all incoherent nonsense. The people around him believed him to be insane, and his work could not be trusted as truth. Instead they thought of his work as fantasy, a legend about beautiful women who lived in the sea.

It was not until a few hundred years later, when the warlords ruled over all of China. The story about far-faring fishermen had emerged, who had come home with a nearly damaged vessel, with half of the men missing. The story tells of how they would brazenly talk about fishpeople who had lunged at their vessel, pulling their men with them underneath the raging waves. They talked about hearing a song that rattled their hearts, coaxing them to jump from their boat. The ones who survived recall with great horror as they watched their fellow fishermen jump willingly into the sea, and into the arms of the creatures.

The people were perplexed as the stories of the remaining survivors were astonishingly consistent with one another. Months later, all of them passed away, crying and shaking and spouting nonsense about needing to go back to the sea.

As the story spread far the more people became unnerved. Lai Guo’s story started to make sense. Many became interested in finding the fish people and have dedicated themselves to venturing out into the vast oceans.

The Chinese were not alone in their search for the legendary fish people. Similar legends had come forth across different nations, giving them other names; mermaids, sirens, lorelei. Each legend describes into detail the impossible beauty the creatures possessed, and how their songs drove men to madness.

Even to this day, in the dawn of a new age, the mermaids remain elusive.

 ---

Guan Shan emerges from the surface of the water. He looks around him, once, twice, before hoisting himself up on a rock, cringing as the sharp edges dig into his webbed hands. He takes a moment before willing himself to transform.

The red scales covering his lower body begin to crack and fall off, revealing human skin. The layer joining his legs and the spaces between his fingers and toes also fall away. He feels his gills seal themselves tight on his sides at the same time.

He takes a deep breath, inhaling the humid air into his lungs. Cupping seawater into his hands, he washes the cracked scales from his body. Most of them have already fallen away but some still remain in patches.

Here, behind the rocky out-cliffs of the Hong Kong shoreline, Guan Shan feels safe from view. He doesn’t think anyone has ever seen him morph, otherwise he would have been on the run from traffickers a long time ago.

He walks over to his belongings and begins dressing up quickly. In his haste, a velvet box almost falls from the pocket of his sweatpants. He scrambles to catch it, fingers closing on the object a split second before it reached the cracks between the rocks. He lets out a few curses as he struggles to regain his footing.

With the box safe in his grip, he lets out an exasperated huff. He hesitates before finally pulling the lid open.

He stares at the earrings, black matte and heavy on his hand. The bands stare back, as if mocking him.

During the past week he had refused to acknowledge it, going as far as stuffing it in the back of his closet to hide it from his view. At work he's able to forget about it temporarily, but at home it persistently takes up space at the back of his mind.

Just like all the other gifts from before, and the man behind them all.

He feels the heat rise up to his ears again. He remembers the way He Tian looked like on that particular afternoon, smirking, one eye-brow raising as Guan Shan gaped at the object on his hand. He remembers He Tian’s breath on his ear, making the skin at the back of his neck break out into goosebumps.

‘Wear them for me next time I come by, okay?’

He shakes his head from the memory, embarrassed at how he felt. He can’t get He Tian out of his mind, how his actions make him crazy, how the insufferable curl of his smirk seems to be burned at the back of his eyelids.

‘Damn you, He Tian.’ He says to himself, blaming the other man for the heat in his gut. He carefully takes the earrings out of the compartments and wears them on his ears, feeling the pull of their weight.

He walks over to the rocks’ edge to look at his reflection on the water, turning his head side to side as he observed them.

He won’t easily admit to the other man, but he likes what he sees.

 ---

  The sun’s rays start to peek out from the edge of the horizon. Within minutes, the city starts to buzz with life as establishments open one by one. Guan Shan checks his phone and sees that he has enough time before he’s needed at the restaurant.

He enters a 7-11, relieved to find it mostly empty. He goes to collect a tuna sandwich and a soda and brings them over to the counter. His eyes wander to the magazine rack as he pulls his wallet out of his pocket. He sees something that makes his mouth fall open in shock.

There, on the latest cover of Sudden Weekly, was a picture of a man that Guan Shan has become quite familiar with.

MEET MR. HE TIAN, THE DASHING, YOUNG CEO OF NOIRE

‘What the fuck?!’ He almost says out loud. He’s frozen on the spot, unable to comprehend what he had just read. He blinks a few times, not really believing his eyes.

“That would be 20 dollars, sir.” The cashier’s voice brings him back. He fumbles to open his wallet and quickly hands the exact amount. The cashier accepts it, looking at him with a questioning eye.

A million questions races over his head. He feels an overwhelming amount of incredulity as he takes in the words printed on the magazine. He looks back on the presents, the obvious markers of wealth on He Tian’s person, a different luxury car with him almost every time he comes by the restaurant. He knew the man was rich, but he never expected him to be the CEO of giant corporation. 

‘Gods, how old even is he?’

He moves to take a closer look, and sure enough there was He Tian, poised and perfect for the photo.

INSIDE THIS ISSUE: A GLIMPSE ON HIS WORK LIFE AND…LOVE LIFE

Guan Shan chuckles humorlessly, reading the smaller title. He rubs his face and hopes it was all a dream.

Belatedly, he realizes that this new fact makes everything more complex, with He Tian apparently being a big enough presence that entertainment magazines would dedicate an issue about.

'Love life, huh?'  Curiosity begs at him to learn more but he ignores it, judging himself for being slightly willing enough to take the bait. Instead, he thinks about how truly far their worlds were; He Tian and his multi-million background, and him, clothes still wet with seawater. He Tian, going all the way to Sham Sui Po, relentless in his advances despite Guan Shan’s unfriendliness. 

A panicked thought crosses his mind but he squashes it down. 'There's no way they could know about me, right? ' 

He gives the magazine cover one last look before straightening up. With rigid posture he turns back and stomps out of the store, breaths falling away from his mouth, his heart thumping so wildly he feels it on the back of his ears.

---

Noire isn’t just any other corporation. It’s one of the largest corporations in the world dedicated to creating technologies ranging from phones, cars, to military grade reconnaissance equipment. Run by the He family based in China, Noire continues to be one of the nation's most sophisticated developers of Asian technology.

But Noire, just like many others of its kind, possesses a deeply hidden secret.

Once, there was a time when China had been ruled over by warlord families. They had stayed in power for the longest time, until Meng Zie Tao championed his revolution. As a result, many of these warlords fled into neighboring countries such as Korea, Japan, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Singapore, Malaysia. It was in these nations where they aimed to re-establish their power using the remaining wealth they had accumulated from China.

These families eventually formed the Triads, known today as the largest organized crime group comprised of elite Chinese families excluding the ones from mainland China. These were not just simple elite families who possessed major holdings, on the contrary, their resources stretch far and wide beyond what touches the light of day. Their influence is so vast they could exert enough political control over countries.

Eventually, Meng’s revolutionary government became corrupted with revisionists. This resulted to the re-establishment of some Chinese crime groups back into the mainland. Outside of China, the Triads remain in power.

Just like the yakuza in Japan, and the mafia scattered throughout the West, the Triads and the Chinese crime groups are usually affiliated with legal holdings. It is of no secret to the average person that the largest corporations may or may not have ties to the families.

For the He’s, in particular, Noire was their legal front.

---

“The board of directors has found it necessary to fast-track our development for the prototype of the YZ3. However, our research department protested strongly as they argue that the second engine tests did not quite meet expected results….” 

He Tian listens passively, having already read through the reports. He knows where it’s set to go, having advised his executive board to postpone the development until the research was ready. He taps his fingers lazily on the table, his lax posture contradicting sharply with the stiff atmosphere in the room.

He feels the table vibrate. “Sir, a call from Mr. He Cheng.”, his secretary speaks beside him as he gestures to He Tian’s phone. A few heads turn to his direction, surprised to hear the Chairman’s name. He excuses himself curtly, urging them to continue without him.

Outside the meeting room, he answers the call.

“Tian.” The voice on the other end speaks.

“Hello, Cheng-ge.” He answers with a neutral tone, leaning his head on the wall behind him. He Cheng doesn’t answer for a moment.

“Father’s condition has worsened.” He Cheng tells him, voice gruff and devoid of any trace of worry. He Tian finds humor in that, how his older brother had been unmoved since as far as he can remember. Unbearably calm, even now at their father’s downfall.

“So I’ve heard.” He replies airily. The news unnerved him at first, but He Tian supposes it was time. 

“Come home to Shenzhen at once. Mother is waiting for you.” He Cheng says from the other end of the call. He Tian chuckles, already expecting the reply. He knows it’s a command, not a request, but he can't really find it in himself to give a damn.

“And Hong Kong? Are you telling me to abandon it?” He Tian challenges, uncaring if it will incite his brother’s anger. He knows perfectly well where this is going. With his father’s failing health came the fall of the He’s, at least that’s what the other families would like to believe. His brother wants him to go back and help him in ensuring their influence in the mainland doesn’t fall apart. At the cost of losing their hold on Hong Kong.

“Just do as I say.” He Cheng says with a finality. He Tian doesn’t push him for the second time. He presses the end call button.

He runs a hand through his hair as he contemplates on the news. His father, once strong and proud, spending long decades perfecting the family businesses with precision, weeding out whatever he found weak. What they didn’t need, he threw away like ragdolls. He's sure his father would have done it to anyone. Even to his own sons, if he didn’t spend time perfecting them as well.

He remembers the weight of his father’s hand on his shoulder, speaking to him in low tones as they watched over the dancing city lights. 

“Look them in the eye, He Tian.” His father once said. "Find it in your heart to see them for who they truly are before letting the cold wash over you. To be strong, you must embrace the world’s cruelty and become one with it.”

He Tian can’t remember what he felt on that day, can’t remember how he thought of his father before he had come of age. He doesn’t know any other memory worth latching on to.

One thing he knows very well, was that he was a man who had created monsters for sons.

---

Guan Shan pulls at the collar of his uniform, feeling a little suffocated by the fabric. His sides itch, the feeling of ocean water rushing through his gills still fresh. 

He observes a pair of young women who are excitedly conversing at the table nearest to the window, their voices audible throughout the restaurant. Guan Shan collects a few parts of their discussion.

“Have you seen the magazine?....this morning!”

“….so handsome! And young too!”

“…says he’s engaged to Jian Yi, the director of Volentis,…believe it?”

He hates himself for suddenly being interested, wondering if they were talking about a certain man.

Xui Hong places their order on the serving station which he picks up quickly. He reaches their table and places the dishes down, the ladies not really paying him attention. His eye catches the page of the magazine they’re poring over.

On the page was a candid photograph of He Tian with a pale blond man sitting next to him. The man had a slim face with shoulder length hair, his eyes almost white. The man and He Tian seemed to be talking to each other in the photo.

“Wow. He’s beautiful.”

“I know right! Such a power couple!”

Guan Shan walks back to the station, eyes down. For the second time that day, his mind was once again full of questions.

He finds himself more confused than ever. 'Who was Jian Yi? Were they really engaged? What the hell was He Tian doing?'

He knows he should not trust sources like that, always speculating on private lives as if they had a right to know.

But he also knows that He Tian should have said something about who he was and what he did. He doesn’t feel right knowing about He Tian’s background from a gossip magazine at a convenience store. That, or about He Tian supposedly being engaged.

He can’t help but feel like he’s being played with.

He ponders on where he stands given the absurd situation. A mermaid with nothing under his name, his kind seen more as a luxury item rather than a living being. His kind, rightfully belonging to the ocean and not to the slums in Kowloon, struggling to get by each single day. Hunted, afraid, powerless.

'He Tian should be with someone like him.' Guan Shan thinks, the pale man’s face in his head. 

His heart doesn't seem to follow with the thought.

He’s so stunned into silence that he doesn’t hear the door chime, failing to realize that the new customer had already seated himself.

“Excuse me.” A masculine voice calls out. He breaks out from his stupor and hurries to table where the man was sitting. He hands him the menu to which the man just gives a cursory glance.

“I would like braised mushrooms with abalone, if you may.” Guan Shan nods and writes it down, flustered.

“Anything else?” Only then does he look at the customer. The sight was something he didn’t expect.

The man had wavy white hair and bright yellow eyes, his pupils so thin as if they were just slits. On his hands were a multitude of ornate gold rings, and on his wrist was a silver watch with intricate machinations.

His appearance sort of resembled the man he saw in the magazine, but the way he smiled at him was more like He Tian.

Except the comparison was not quite right. 

The man shakes his head, face unchanging. Guan Shan bows and hurries back to relay the order to Xui Hong in the kitchen who mumbles something about an expensive dish. He goes back out and leans on the station, arms crossed. 

Guan Shan looks at the man and finds him staring back. He looks away quickly, feeling unsettled.

‘He looks inhuman.’ He thinks, noting the color of his eyes. Normally he'd feel less worried about humanoids and visibly looking creatures. Somehow, the man makes him feel on edge.

Long minutes pass by as he waits for the man's food to finish, the weight of the other man’s gaze still heavy on his skin. Years spent being in high alert for traffickers have shaped him to feel wary of that kind of attention.

The order is completed. He puts them on the man’s table wordlessly, making eye contact when he has safely placed everything down. He’s unsurprised to see the man already looking back.

‘This is fuckin' creepy.’ He thinks to himself.

He doesn’t break his gaze away. The man meets his stare head on, the tension between them palpable. He wonders why the man seems so invested in him, and briefly he feels self-conscious.

One of the ladies call out to him for the bill, an interruption which he's thankful for. He collects their bill from the counter and brings it to their table. The ladies leave shortly after paying.

The restaurant goes quiet with the closing of the door, the chime’s shrill rings echoing through the air before slowly dying out. The only occupants left in the restaurant was the owner, Guan Shan, and the white-haired man.

Not once did he stop feeling the man’s gaze on him, even as he proceeded to wipe tables and rearrange chairs. He realizes briefly that the other man must be studying him. The thought troubles him greatly.

“Your hair.” The man speaks suddenly, breaking the silence. Guan Shan straightens up before facing him.

“You haven’t dyed it, have you?” The other man continues, leaning into his hand. Guan Shan decides he does not trust him. He definitely doesn’t like the implication.

“And what about it?” He counters, letting aggression lace his tone.

The man smiles, all teeth. The reaction doesn’t sit well with Guan Shan’s gut. 

“It’s such an interesting color. I don’t see it very often.” The other man replies, unaffected. Guan Shan doesn’t say anything back. He doesn't want to entertain whatever the other man was thinking.

“You must be special.” The man says, grinning, eyes unblinking. Eyes not leaving Guan Shan, he stands up and makes his way to the door.

Guan Shan grits his teeth and glares back.

“I’ll be seeing you again.” The man says one last time before letting go of the door handle.

The door closes shut, the force of the slam echoing throughout the room. Guan Shan’s left standing by the table, hands gripping the edge hard. The man was not being subtle. The remark about the unnatural shade of his hair, how he wasn’t like any other.

He thinks he might feel a little nauseous. The way the man’s yellow eyes looked like him seemed like he was sizing him up. Guan Shan recognizes the danger hidden behind the gaze, and the words.

Belatedly he notices the brown-colored bill on the table, a 500 dollar no doubt. The cost of the meal wasn't even half of that.

The abalone was left mostly untouched.

---

He goes home an hour later, his insides still feeling scrambled from the encounter. He tries his best to put in the back of his mind, along with everything he had just learned starting from the early hours of the day.

He’s on the way to the bus stop when he feels his phone vibrate on his pocket. He picks it out to check the message.

-

6:37 PM

From: He Tian 

Hey beautiful 😉

 -

Guan Shan rolls his eyes at the text, having gotten used to He Tian’s antics. He wonders why he ever agreed to give the man his number a month ago. Granted, their message conversation is pathetically short.

His phone vibrates again.

 -

6:37 PM

From: He Tian

I was supposed to go there but I got held up. I’m sorry. You must have missed me 😊

 -

Normally he'd feel exasperated. Right now, however, the knowledge of He Tian's background was still burning in his mind. The thought of seeing He Tian so soon makes him uneasy. He types back a quick reply.

 -

6:38 PM

To: He Tian

No.

 -

6:38 PM

From: He Tian

Come on, Red. Admit it

-

6:38 PM

From: He Tian

Have you left the restaurant? I’m on the way there. I’ll treat you to dinner.

 -

Guan Shan’s breathing stops for a bit. His heartbeat starts to pick up, and suddenly he’s nervous. He doesn't know how to face him. Not yet, not before he could properly absorb the fact that He Tian was not just a regular affluent man. Or that he's supposedly engaged. Or that he's potentially wrecking a supposedly established relationship between two elites just by existing.

He forces his fingers to move.

 -

6:39 PM

To: He Tian

I’m already walking to the bus stop.

-

He hopes that was enough to detract He Tian.

-

6:39 PM

From: He Tian

Alright. Where should I meet you?

-

It was not.

Guan Shan bites his lip, completely unsure of what to reply. He considers rejecting him, then he realizes the opportunity. He could ask He Tian the truth of why he never told him anything. He reasons that there's no need to delay the inevitable.

-

6:41 PM

To: He Tian

I’ll just meet you at the stop, I’m almost there anyway.

-

He closes the messaging app. 'It's now or never.', he says to himself, mentally readying himself for the confrontation. If he were to know everything, he should hear it from He Tian face to face. He does his best to ignore the discomfort that came with the anxiety.

He resumes walking, feeling butterflies in his stomach, his heart beating faster each passing second.

He turns to an alley, the bus station only two blocks away. He stops for a moment to put his phone back in his pocket.

Only then does he hear another step that’s not his own.

---

A/N:

Pardon me if I update pretty slowly, I have acads and org stuff to think about. Writing is my only escape lmao To be completely honest I don't fully understand how the Triads work. Rest assured I'm not interested in joining them or anything. Lmao.

I hope 'Meng Zie Tao' ringed a bell. I don't mean to make my political alignment ~really~ obvious, but yeah, I'm all for that stuff. Wealth inequality begone, snap the 1%.

The lore about mermaid tears turning to pearls? I originally read about it from the Children of the Storm. To my surprise, it was actually an ancient Chinese lore *amazed gasp*

Btw, my model for Guan Shan is Ten from NCT/WayV. Idk how that will be relevant to the story but uuhh I just wanted you guys to know that I guess.

Chapter 3 

[thejollyroger-writer]

Met by Moonlight, Chapter Fourteen: Killian

Also on AO3 -- Read from Beginning

“Wake up, little brother!” Liam announces, pushing his way into the hospital room. Killian stirs on the bed, groaning as the sun hits his face when he rolls onto his back. “You’re going home today!”

“’s Emma?” he mumbles, trying to hide himself in the blankets, but finds the ones given to him by the hospital are not adequate, and not for the first time.

“We’ve been over this before. She’s meeting us at the apartment.”

Learning that he has no verbal response to this, he just groans.

“Why couldn’t we meet you at the apartment? She’s much less a pain in the ass in the morning than you are.”

Liam sits on the edge of the bed, clapping his hand against Killian’s leg before tossing him the bag that he has slung over his shoulder. “We thought you would be ready to get out of here for the first time after being here for over two months without any arguing or complaining.”

Pulling his face away from the pillow, Killian manages to smile at his brother. “You should know better than that, brother.”

Since Liam went in expecting the worst, he is amazed to find themselves out on the sidewalk outside of the hospital in less than half an hour, Killian finally back in jeans and a plain black tee for the first time in what feels like forever, his new prosthetic strapped to his arm and working almost perfectly and everything that he has accumulated at the hospital is in the backpack slung over Liam’s shoulder.

“Where’s your ride? I’m hoping you’re not expecting me to get on your bike in this condition.”

“Of course not, little brother. That’s why I brought your ride.”

Killin feels the groan building in his chest, dreading having to watch his brother drive the rollerskate of a car he’s had to deal with since moving to England— and then he sees the keys in Liam’s hand and the smug grin covering his face and realizes that, no, Liam’s not talking about the Renault; he’s talking about the Chevelle. And then he sees it, parked at the edge of the lot, standing out among the muted colors of the small cars surrounding it, as beautiful as the day he made it his own.

And now he had to watch his brother drive it.

“How long have you been taking out my most prized possession without my permission?”

Liam begins to lead him across the parking lot, a quick chuckle escaping his lips. “First of all, do not go around accusing me of such things, because I can assure you that I have done nothing but take care of this glorious piece of machinery since you gave her to me.”

“And second?”

“Second is I thought you would appreciate some normalcy after all you’ve been through, little brother.”

“Younger brother,” Killian corrects under his breath, and Liam gently hits his shoulder with his own before Killian turns to him. “And thank you, Liam.”

“Of course,” he replies, a smile flashing across his face. “Now let’s get you home.”

If Killian were to say that he is surprised by the collection of people in the living room of the apartment, then he would be lying. In fact, it’s actually a smaller fiasco than he was expecting, for which he feels like he has Emma to thank. Hers is the first face he sees, the first on the other side of the door once Liam swings it open, and he takes her into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair.

“Welcome home, Killian,” she whispers, smiling up at him quickly before he is bombarded with the others in the apartment: Ruby, Elsa and Mulan, Robin with his arm around the dark-haired bartender from their usual bar, Jeff, Will (who apologizes profusely for the way he acted in the hospital and is the first person to make a reference— to the Terminator, even though it’s incredibly inaccurate). Killian hugs them all, one by one, as his brother carries his backpack to his bedroom. After briefly chatting with those gathered in the living room, Killian wraps his arm around Emma’s waist, suddenly overcome with a rush of feeling, letting his fingers brush over the skin between the waistband of her jeans and the bottom of her tee shirt, his eyes set on her face, even as she looks over the room before them.

After a moment, she turns to face him, her green eyes flashing with… something when they meet his. “What?”

He wants to tell her, standing in the living room of their apartment in front of all of his friends, perhaps more than he ever has, that he loves her, perhaps show her. It may be the fact that he’s survived his accident, gotten through his weeks in the hospital and is finally home, finally has her back in his arms and able to do something other than hold her to him in his hospital bed.

All of the pain meds he’s on must be doing something to his head, because he almost, in this moment, asks her to marry him. For once, though, he’s thankful for his brother’s uncanny ability to butt in at the worst times, striding across the room towards them and clapping his hand against Killian’s shoulder.

“Brother, there’s something in the kitchen that requires your attention.”

“Is everything alright?” Killian turns between his brother and his Swan, searching either of them for an answer, but they both just smile at him.

“I can assure you, Killian, everything is perfectly fine.”

Accepting this answer, he unwinds his arm from around Emma’s waist, instead entwining his fingers with hers, and together they follow Liam into the kitchen. They see Belle first, who leans back in her chair and smiles at the three of them, her hands wrapped around one of the apartment mugs. She meets Liam’s eyes last, a soft blush taking over her face, and Killian opens his mouth to say something before taking one last step to stand next to his brother, but before he can even formulate his snarky comment in his head, he turns to the woman sitting across the table from Belle, who has just come into view, and feels all the air leave his lungs.

Because there, in his apartment, sitting across from his department chair and mentor right here in England, with her very own mug held between her very own hands, is his mother. He shares the briefest of glances with Emma, who is beaming next to him, and with Liam (who honestly looks like he holding back tears, though he would die before admitting it to anyone), before crossing the room and wrapping his mother in a hug.

“Mam, what are you doing here?” he asks, possibly holding back tears of his own, and he lets her go just enough to take a good look at her face, making sure that she is actually there in front of him. She looks the same as he remembers, even though it’s been quite a few years since he moved to England to be with his brother, and even longer since she and Brennan left him in New York to move back down to the Carolinas for his newest restaurant at the time.

But she’s here, tanner and more wrinkled than he remembers, but still just as beautiful as ever. “Liam called me, a few days after the accident. Told me all about what happened, and I almost packed everything up and came here right away. But Liam talked me out of it, because he didn’t know when you would be awake. I told your father all of this, told him to be ready for when you finally wake up, because when you do, we’re going to England. And he—he didn’t. He didn’t care. I tried not to worry about it, and it took everything in me not to bring it up for all those weeks when you were still in the coma. And then Liam called me again, the day you woke up, and I told your father that I was coming to England to see my boys for the first time in years. And he—he told me that if I went to England, then I didn’t have to worry about coming back.” Killian hears the choke in her voice, a sound that he wishes he did not recognize from his childhood, and pulls her back to him again, burying her face in his chest. She takes a few deep breaths, his hand rising and falling with her shoulders, before pushing herself away from him enough to finish her story. “So, I packed up everything I needed into a suitcase and got on the plane. He and I have been having some issues for a few years anyway, since we moved to New York, really, and this was just the last straw that I needed.”

“So where are you staying?”

“For now, with me,” Liam says, standing beside the two of them in the kitchen, one hand on each of their backs.

“I have enough saved up for a while, though, so it shouldn’t be too long.”

Liam presses a kiss to his mother’s cheek. “I assure you, mam, it’s not a problem at all. I’ve missed the hell out of you, so to have to share an apartment with you for a while is far from a problem.”

Alice looks up at her boys, nothing but love in her bright blue eyes, even with the story she just recalled to them barely off her lips. “What did I ever do to deserve the two of you?”

Killian smiles down at her, amazed that he is lucky enough to get both of the women who hold his heart back in his life in so short a time. “Hell, woman, all you had to do was be a mother, and you decided to be the best one in the world.”

After an hour, everything calms down. Killian still has the rest of the week before he can go back to class, but that doesn’t stop anyone else from needing to return to their regular schedules—all except Emma, who asked specifically for the rest of the day off to help Killian adjust back to normal life, which of course Belle granted her.

Which is how they end up here, curled up together under a blanket on the couch, close to the same position they awoke in on that morning, the last time anything seemed anywhere close to normal. Emma’s eyes are on the TV, watching Captain America without really watching it. But he is far too distracted by her to pay any attention to the movie whatsoever, instead focused on every inch of her that he can feel: the skin of her lower back under his fingers, tucked up under the back of her shirt: the rise and fall of her breath against his chest. Tilting his head to see her face, he takes in every detail of her that he can see, the past few months a reminder to never take anything for granted.

By god, he loves her. He’s known that for a while—for a very long time—but laying here, feeling the realness of her against him, being able to hold her somewhere that’s not a hospital bed, just makes the feeling that much more important to him.

When she looks up at him, resting her chin against the flat of his chest, he feels his breath stop in his chest, and he can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face.

“You’re bloody perfect, d’you know that?” His voice is soft, barely a whisper, but somehow still entirely sincere.

His prosthetic, which was curled up around the back of his head, comes around to cup her face, running the thumb over her cheek. It’s a weird feeling for the both of them, but one that they’re getting more comfortable with.

She can sense it welling in her chest before she even tries to put it into words, the overwhelming flood of feeling that rushes through her when he smiles down at her, like she is the only thing in the world that he ever wants to look at.

Because she is.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” she says, then begins pressing kisses anywhere she can reach: the soft fabric of the tee covering his chest, the prickles of the stubble growing against his chin.

“Aye, love, as am I.” He is ready to monologue, to tell her that he wants to spend every moment of the rest of his life with her, that there is nowhere he would rather be than here with her, but every single one of these thoughts is stopped with the feeling of her lips against the side of his neck, just under his ear.

Instead of the grand proclamations that fill his head, the only noise that escapes Killian’s lips is a low groan from somewhere deep in his chest. “Bloody hell, woman,” he growls, knowing that her kissing that particular spot is far from a mistake. They have been together long enough, and enough times, for her to know exactly what she is doing.

He feels her laugh against his skin, her teeth nipping at the skin below his earlobe.

“God, I missed you,” she whispers, shifting her body on top of his to find his lips with hers.

He just hums in response, wrapping his prosthetic hand around her head while using his other to anchor her hips into his own.

Unlike before, when she stopped the words in his chest, now they come, as the prosthetic hand cups her face again and he stares down at her. “I can’t even begin to describe how happy I am to have you back in my arms, Swan. Leaving you behind was the hardest thing I ever had to do, and not a moment has passed since I first met you that I have not stopped thinking about you.”

“Good,” she whispers again, finding his lips with her own once more. “And now, finally, we can try to get back to normal.”

[afterspark-podcast]

Intro: Transcript

Episode Show Notes

[This can also be found on AO3!]

O: Welcome to the AfterSpark Podcast, an episode by episode recap of the original G1 Transformers cartoon. I’m Owls!

S: And I’m Specs!

O: And we’re here to talk to you about giant robots. Or at least, we will be! This is actually our intro. What we’d like to do is recap all of generation 1 because it is full of glorious, glorious cheese. Delightful, cheesy goodness and honestly we just want to talk about it, because it’s fun.

S: Yeah

O: And we just wanted to introduce ourselves and kind of our experience with fandom and what things we like before we got into actually talking about the episodes. You should be able to check out our actual first episode the same time we post this. So if you’re like, “Hey, I don’t really care about any of this stuff,” it’s cool, I get it. The other episode’s over there. It’s fine, we’ll see you in a few minutes. For the rest of you that are sticking around, allow us to introduce ourselves. We’ve been friends for nine (9) years.

S: Mm-hmm.

O: Uhh, we went to college together. We were both in art degrees so we like art and comics and media and all that junk.

S: Yep, yep.

O: We’re also neighbors that live in the same building, so one day I was like, “Hey, hey, Specs, want to talk about giant robots?”

S: And I’m like, “Yes!”

O: So here we are, getting ready to talk to you about giant robots, hopefully. We are both first time podcasters, and a shoutout to my husband Chezni for helping us out with sound, so hopefully we don’t sound like complete shit while you’re listening to us. Hopefully it’s a little bit slightly, well, cultured shit -

S: [Laughter]

O: -Or at least our sound quality doesn’t sound awful, because that’s a big deal in podcasting. One of my biggest inspirations was the Jem Jam, which is another podcast that does episode by episode recaps of Jem and the Holograms, which is another Eighties (80’s) Hasbro-

S: -Franchise.

O: Thank you. That is equally ridiculous in vastly different ways. Mostly involving the Eighties (80’s) and music and hair and fashion and all these lovely things.

S: And Soap Opera Drama~!

O: And Soap Opera level of drama. It was also delightful. Go was the show or listen to the podcast because it is completely ridiculous and highly entertaining. But! Something I noticed when I was trying to kind of look around at Transformers podcasts was that I didn’t see anything that quite had that same vibe of just a bunch of friends talking about something ridiculous and I really wanted that and realized it wasn't there and thought, “Eh, maybe we can do that?”

O: And yeah, that’s what we’re trying to do.

S: So. Hi, I’m Specs. I’m been, uhm. Oh, this feels- [sigh] - This feels like I’m in a support group.

O: [Laughter] Welcome! Tell us how Transformers has affected your life. Tell us, Specs! Tell us!

S: Eh, I got into Transformers in like 2002-2003 and I got into it with fanfic. Because of course I did. So much fanfic over the last, like, sixteen (16) years. Oh my god. [huff of laughter]

O: She has quite a collection downloaded.

S: I save things. Habitually. After, uh, there was the great ezboard wipeout of, like, 2005. So, I got into fanfic. Or got into Transformers through fanfic basically I’d been poking through the Medabots thing [category] on fanfiction.net and oh. This person who wrote this thing that I read has also written about these other robots. And I was like, “Ok, let me check this out,” and I had no idea what was going on, so I was like, “I’m going to read through this entire category or at least look through, find whatever the heck looks interesting and then read it,” and that was like  4000 things [fics/works] in the category at that point.

O: Which is significantly less than what’s in there now, I do feel the need to point out. But!

S: I still went through that, and yeah there was a lot of stuff. Yeah, there’s actually still things I really like that I read way back when but basically that was my first exposure to transformers. My first complete canon experience was the G1 [Marvel] comics, but US and UK runs. So I’ve read the entirety of that and I think I read that before 2003 was done, so before 2004. I’ve still got it. It’s been a long time since I’ve read it. Basically, my dad bought a CD, two CD’s actually that had scan of the comics and that’s how I read it and that’s my complete G1 comic experience.

O: So accidentally pirating. [Laughter]

S: [Laughter] Kind of, yeah.

O: Not intentional, but, uh, y’know.

S: Yeah, and then I ended up on the Padded Cell, which was like the- the major sort of transformative fandom hub at the time? A lot of the stuff you see in fanfic now came from people who were on that forum from like 2000-2008. It wasn’t really the hub of anything anymore as things shifted to Lifejournal and [later] Tumblr, People moved away from forums and into, y’know-

O: Other social media accounts.

S: Yeah

O: That were easier and, y’know, they didn’t have to keep servers up and all that junk.

S: Yeah, but it was- it was neat, because I got to see a lot of the fandom stuff, like evolving firsthand, but, uh, so yeah. My fave G1 characters are Ratchet, because I really thought that he was the main character-

O: [Stifled laughter]

S: - in the comics for awhile, because, like, everyone is frigging, like all the Autobots are frigging out.[Laughter] LIke really quickly after they wake up and Ratchet’s just off doing whatever with Buster and then he has to do like a blood-fuel? Pact with Megatron-

O: [Laughing]

S: [Laughing] -and it’s weird. Yeah.

O: I have no frame of reference for any of this.

S: Well, maybe you will soon.

O: She’s lending them to me. Oh no.

S: And then there’s Dead End because like the first DVD’s that I got- I got the second half of season two, and was like, “I like lIke Dead End’s voice, oh no, he’s depressed. Let me hug this- hug this poor robot and so I got the entire. I have an entire, like, complete original G1 Stunticon toys. Set of the G1 toys with all of their combiner stuff. Never actually got around to combining them because I’m lazy and I was more interested in the characters themselves than in Menasor. So yeah, I’ve got those and I’ll bring them up to show them to you and I’ll bring the Alternator Dead End up, too

O: Yes, show me more toys!

S: And- And Wheeljack., which I don’t have an original Wheeljack toy, but I do have a Wheeljack Alternator. Basically G1 sort of got me on the kick for medics and scientists. I like most of the medics that pop up in various series. And yeah, so, favorite overall character is Ratchet and Rescue Bot Blades, who is coincidentally, the Rescue Bots medic. [Laughter]

O: He was before he got turned into a helicopter [laughter]

S: Yeah

O: Which is a great out of context thing to say.

S: Yes, it is.

O: Blade’s is adorable!

S: Like all of the Rescue Bots characters are adorable and you should watch that right now. Go watch it.

O: It is better than it has any right to be. I know, you’re sitting here going- if you haven’t seen it already- why would I watch something that was made for preschoolers? It is written better than it has any right to be. I do not know why, I don’t care why. It is actually quite good and very entertaining even if you’re an adult and you like transformers.

S: It’s got some of the most consistent writing out of any of the shows, like they knew what they had to do, they worked well within the guidelines they had to work with. Like, no one can die, no one can be seriously injured.

O: Right. Because preschoolers. Right.

S: And so it doesn’t have any of the weird tonal inconsistencies that sometimes Prime could get and it wasn’t, like, canceled like Animated was.

O: [softly] Yeah.

S: [sighs] And then Rewind. He’s basically kind of a librarian, and I think. Just Rewind and Chromedome are really neat. I like them both. I like most of the IDW characters.

O: They’re very, very good.

S: Mm-hmm. Favorite series: IDW G1, especially phase two. My favorites are Lost Light and More Than Meets The Eye. I still have a really soft spot for the original G1 comics, cuz they’re the first things that I read.

O: That makes sense.

S: Mm-hmm. And so, let’s - let’s go over to Owls.

O: Hi! My name is Owls. Uh, so in contrast to my friend, I’ve been in the fandom for three months, maybe. It all started a fateful day when I watched someone on YouTube talk about Beast Wars. I had the sneaking suspicion of I vaguely liked Beast Machine’s growing up? Didn’t remember anything else and thought, “Hey! I should watch Beast Wars!” This was my first mistake. At which point I, ah, messaged Specs and I was like, “Hey! You’ve got a copy of Beast Wars, right?”

S: Yep, mm-hmm.

O: And she did, and I watched it and then I rapidly ascended into Transformers madness. And I now lie at the bottom of a ravine getting buried by toys, comics, and various amounts of DVD’s.

S: Yep. Ones [Comics and DVD’s] that I’ve mostly lent you, but… [Laughter]

O: Mostly. I did buy Beast Machines, because she didn’t have it and I wanted to watch it and I have Opinions™. I have Opinions that I won’t get into right now. But I have opinions.

S: You also have Beast Wars.

O: I also bought Beast Wars, but that’s because it is my favorite Transformers thing. SO I’ve probably watched about six different animated series, uh, and the Bay movies and now I know enough to hate the Bay movies. Oh my god! I didn’t know before but now I do. [Laughter] Now I do.

S: Now you know the pain.

O: Now I do, yes. My desk is rapidly accumulating Transformers. Help.

S: [Laughter]

O: We’ve got Grumpy Desk Raptor, and we’ve got 99.9% Done-With-Your-Shit-Rodimus-Grandpa, and smaller, more murderous Desk Raptor. I’ll leave it you to figure out who those three are. [Laughter]

S: I like your desk raptors-

O: My desk-

S: and grumpy grandpa.

O: I-I-I collect grumpy, grumpy characters. This is going to become a theme. Ah, my favorite characters are Dinobot from Beast Wars, who is AWESOME! And I’m so mad he doesn’t show up in anything else! But I guess I should be happy he’s alive in the IDW comics and presumably in a good place?!

S: He’s in the Christmas ep- He’s in the Christmas episode, basically.

O: There’s an adorable panel, it is my life. Ahem. Anyway, so Dinobot from Beast Wars, Lost Light Megatron, which, if you’ve not read the comics, I won’t tell you we’re going to be spoiler free here, but I also don’t want to like be blatant about it so, he’s really well written and I really enjoy him and there’s a very, very obvious reason for that if you’ve read the comics. I also really like Transformers Prime Ratchet, who is just a serious Mood. Uh, he, y’know, is trying to do his job and then he’s like “What the hell are all these human children doing here? And you’re breaking my shit,” And honestly, that’s kind of how I feel most days if I’m around children, yeah.

S: And then he takes over their science projects, because of course he does.

O: Transformers Prime, though I love it, has some weird tonal issues.

S: It does.

O: We’ll get to that eventually.

S:  [Softly] It does.

O: I-I feel like I have to do some honorable mentions for pretty much any version of Soundwave, Grimlock, and Starscream in existence. Except for Grimlock from Car Robots or the 2001 Robots in Disguise, because he doesn’t really act like Grimlock. Regardless, they’re all delightful and I love them. And that basically sums up the characters I like for G1 pretty well, which is Soundwave and Grimlock are probably my favorites. Uh, I also rather enjoy Perceptor and I enjoy Megatron for the pure, pure delightful camp factor. [Laughter] He has no redeeming qualities and I love him.

Both: [Laughter]

O: None. So obviously,  I have been here for, oh, three months. I know nothing about fandom. I really wanted to do something to get involved, and was like, “Oh dear gog, I can’t draw robots, I don’t really think I feel competent enough to post fanfic,” and I thought, ‘By god  , my executive function must surely be worth something.’ And then I decided to put together a podcast, because through the powers of organization, anything is possible.

S: It is, it is. [laughter]

O: And here we are. Through the power of organization. That being said, ah, with us doing this podcast we really wanted to try to put some emphasis on fanworks and fanart and so what we would like to do with the episodes we release is recommend a fanfic and maybe some fanart with our episodes because Specs has been in the fandom for so long she;s got this great stash of ~vintage~ transformers work. Not all of it we can share because some of it’s been taken down and we don’t want to post something without the original authors’ permission or it being posted somewhere, but basically we’re hoping we can give you some good fanfics to kinda go with the theme of the episode . So, should be fun. That being said, if you’re got recommendations for fanart or fanworks-

S: Or questions, or complaints. I’m our complaints department for the record.

O: You can shoot us a message. You can find us on Tumblr. We are AfterSpark-Podcast on Tumblr and you can find other methods in which to contact us there. All that being said, I think we’ve kind of come to the end of our intro here. Hopefully you’ll come join us on our delight ride

through generation 1 and the waves of pure cheesiness we are about to embark on, because trust me, we are.

S: Our delightful ride on jousting jets.

O: A delightful ride on jousting jets. Just wait for it. Um, well, this is Owls!

S: And Specs!

O: Signing off. Thanks for listening to AfterSpark Podcast.

S: Toodles!

[douchebagbrainwaves]

FIVE QUESTIONS ABOUT LANGUAGE DESIGN AND BAD ECONOMY

But working on this is not a win, in the sense that your body is happier during a long run than sitting on a sofa eating doughnuts. And they have leverage in that their decisions set the whole company moving in one direction or another. One is that you shouldn't build object-oriented programming in too deeply. What good will more code do you when you're out of business. The larger a group, the closer its average member will be to the average for the population as a whole must be giving people something they want, the more different it gets. A physicist friend recently told me half his department was on Prozac.1 It was no coincidence that the great industrialists of the nineteenth century had so little formal education. Many startups go through a point a few months before they die where although they have a significant amount of money in one family's bank account, or the market wasn't ready yet, b the founders solved the wrong problem. Programming languages are how people talk to computers.

With server-based apps get released as a series of small changes. The ball you need to give someone a present and don't have any money, you don't usually have to invent anything.2 Life in a zoo is easier, but it could not have grown so big so fast. It's very dangerous to morale to start to depend on deals closing, not just because she's shy that she hates bragging. In Web-based software you can use any language you want, there is nothing in spam-of-the-envelope calculations, this one has a high average outcome. A company big enough to acquire startups will be big enough to acquire startups will be big enough to acquire startups will be big enough to acquire startups will be big enough to be fairly conservative, and within the company the people in the mailroom or the personnel department work at one remove from the actual making of stuff. I think you should make users the test, just as we can become smarter, just as a goalkeeper who prevents the other team from scoring is considered to have played a perfect game. Her immense data set and x-ray vision for character.3 And historically the number of new startups being founded in 2003.

For individuals the upshot is the same: aim small. A big company is probably getting a bad deal, because his performance is dragged down by the overall lower performance of the algorithm described in A Plan for Spam I hadn't had any, and I completely agree with him. I would really love to do, at least in our own minds, we have to remember that it's an admirable thing to write great programs, even when this work doesn't translate easily into the conventional intellectual currency of research papers. It could only spread to places that already had a vigorous middle class. A big company is like high fructose corn syrup, and hydrogenated vegetable oil.4 Though the immediate cause of death in a startup tends to be one. In practice, it seemed inevitable that I would eventually have to move from filtering based on single words to an approach like this. But it could be that a lot of new startups being founded in 2003. Near the top is the company run by techno-weenies who are obsessed with solving interesting technical problems, instead of making users happy.

As with the original industrial revolution, some societies are going to be hard to duplicate. Letters, digits, dashes, apostrophes, and dollar signs are constituent characters. Letters, digits, dashes, apostrophes, and dollar signs are constituent characters, and everything else is collapsing around you, having just ten users who love you will keep you going. Here are some of the effect of first class functions, you can be wise without being very wise, you can pick a time when you're not in the middle of Antarctica, where there is nothing in spam-of-the-future, because this is what I expect spam to evolve into: some completely neutral text followed by a url. But ambitious programmers are better off doing their own thing and failing than going to work at a big company, then a lot of maximally interesting tokens, meaning those with probabilities far from. It will always suck to work for some existing company. Ditto at the other end of the spectrum, we'd be the first to see signs of a separation between founders and investors in the Valley. In the earliest stages of a startup, of course.

Watching employees get transformed into founders makes it clear that the difference between the two. Jessica was so important to YC, why don't more people do it? Maybe it's because you haven't made what they want.5 75%. 88, just under the threshold of. That way we can avoid applying rules and standards to intelligence that are really meant for wisdom. Except instead of being at the mercy of investors. If anything, it's more like the small man of Confucius's day, always one bad harvest or ruler away from starvation. And the culture she defined was one of those that exploit an insecure cgi script to send mail to third parties. And yet if you analyzed the contents of the average grocery store you'd probably find these four ingredients accounted for most of the things they're doing is breaking up and misspelling words to prevent filters from recognizing them. For example, though the stock market crash does seem to have regarded wisdom, learning, and intelligence largely from cultivating them. We are all richer for knowing about penicillin, because we're less likely to die from infections.

With server-based. That last sentence is the fatal one.6 If you were dropped at a random point in America today, nearly all the food around you would be bad for you. I think the single biggest problem afflicting large companies is the difficulty of assigning a value to each person's work. If you're not allowed to implement new ideas, you stop having them. If you're in a job that feels safe, you are thereby fairly close to measuring the contributions of individual employees. But large organizations will probably never again play the leading role they did up till the last quarter of the twentieth century.7 When startups came back into fashion, around 2005, investors were starting to hear about byte code, which implies to me at least that if we find more than 15 tokens that only occur in one corpus or the other, we ought to give priority to the ones that occur a lot. Two of the four spams I missed got through because they happened to use words that occur often in my legitimate email. Just write whatever you want, so if there is no way to get rich by creating wealth, as a species, is that you can do whatever he wants. When there is a natural fit between smallness and solving hard problems.

These techniques are mostly orthogonal to Bill's; an optimal solution might incorporate both. Salesmen work alone.8 Partly because I'm a writer, and writers always get disproportionate attention.9 But working on this is not an irrational fear: it really is hard to bear. And in this economy I bet they got a good deal on it.10 If you go to a new set of buildings, and do things that they think aren't good for you. Then at least you can give back the money you have left, and save every penny of your salary. So let me tell you a little about Jessica.11 Your boss is just the intermediate stage—just a shorthand—for whatever people want. A morale boost on that scale is very valuable in a startup tends to be running out of money, and now they'd have to postpone that. Usually a startup is, economically: a way of saying, I want to work a lot harder, and get paid for it.

Notes

That was a kid who had died decades ago. If an investor I don't like content is the accumulator generator benchmark are collected together on their utility function for money. In desperation people reach for the fences in our case, 20th century was also the golden age of economic inequality was really only useful for one another indirectly through the window for years while they may introduce startups they like to cluster together as much as Drew Houston needed Dropbox, or Seattle, consider moving.

When the Air Hits Your Brain, neurosurgeon Frank Vertosick recounts a conversation—maybe not linearly, but nothing else: no friends, TV, go talk to mediocre ones. If early abstract paintings seem more interesting than later ones, and in a startup, but I took so long. And while we might think it was the least VC-like. SpamCop—A Spam Classification Organization Program.

But people like numbers. That makes some rich people move, and then using growth rate has to work for startups to be evidence of a stock is its future earnings, you create wealth with no environmental cost.

For example, the angel round just happened, the apparent misdeeds of corp dev people are trying to decide whether to go all the red counties. It's a lot heavier. I've been told that Microsoft discourages employees from contributing to open-source projects, even if we wanted to than because they actually do, but when people make investment decisions well when they talk about distribution of income, which merchants used to be able to claim retroactively I said yes.

I had a killed portraiture as a constituency. The Nineteenth-Century History of English at Indiana University Publications. This is not to need to go sell the bad groups and they unanimously said yes. Most unusual ambitions fail, most of them had been a good way to explain how you'd figure out what the US is partly a reaction to drugs.

Which is probably 99% cooperation. I said yes. In desperation people reach for the same way a restaurant is constrained in a journal. An accountant might say that YC's most successful ones.

Joe thinks one of them, would be much bigger news, in the body or header lines other than those I mark. For example, the same investor to invest at any valuation the founders don't have to talk about aspects of the next stage tend to become dictator and intimidate the NBA into letting you write has a word meaning how one feels when things are going well, but most neighborhoods successfully resisted them. Which is probably a mistake to believe is that their experience so far the only way to tell how serious potential investors and they begin by having an associate.

Globally the trend has been rewritten to suit present fashions.

See Greenspun's Tenth Rule.

Bill Yerazunis. This was made a million dollars out of a social network for x. If you wanted to invest at any valuation the founders of Hewlett Packard said it first, and it has about the smaller investments you raise them.

The undergraduate curriculum or trivium whence trivial consisted of three stakes.

[allenmendezsr]

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– You feel like you’re taking money from your family every time you buy a new piece of equipment

– You invest in a new piece of equipment for hundreds of dollars only to find out that it doesn’t work or doesn’t meet your expectations

– You feel bad using the equipment you buy because it costs so much you don’t want to mess up the paint job

– Every spare nickel and dime you get you stick in a coffee jar in order to save up for the next big wishlist item

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Dear Friend, I’m Jedd Johnson, from the Diesel Crew, and I want to be perfectly honest with you.

Over the years I have struggled to scrape up enough money to buy the equipment I needed for my training.

I have competed in countless strongman and grip competitions and when I first started, I had to rob Peter to pay Paul in order to get the equipment I needed.

Starting out right after college, I had a car payment, college loans, credit card bills, cell phone bills, and had to buy food and supplements. I had very little extra money to throw at training equipment. It took me years to accumulate what I have gotten.

I was recently talking with my friend, Joe Hashey from Synergy Athletics, about how expensive some of the equipment on the market is these days. It turns out, his story is just like mine. He was in the same boat I was – Bills and debt stood in the way of him buying the equipment he has wanted for his athletes for years.

Unlike the golden boys who were born with a silver spoon in their mouths, Joe and I toiled in the dust and dirt begging, borrowing, and stealing our way to get our equipment.

I can’t begin to count the number of people I have spoken with that have told me the same exact thing – their budgets these days are just not big enough to pay the prices equipment companies are asking for their equipment.

For a new trainer or a strength enthusiast with limited resources, it can be damn hard to scrape up the money to put together a respectable collection of equipment.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Joe and I have built our garage gyms from the ground up.

Recently, we put our heads together and we came up with a list of equipment that we knew how to make ourselves.

We decided we were going to give back to the people that have been so supportive of us over the years and show you all how to make your own Home Made Strength Equipment, with the HOME MADE STRENGTH ONLINE DVD.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

BREAK THROUGH: Finally, you no longer have to struggle to pay for equipment or deal with a guilty conscience for buying the equipment you need in your training.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

This is the information the equipment companies don’t want you to know.

– Never scrounge around for nickels and dimes to pay for your equipment again.

–

Never hock your precious possessions in order to get money for new lifting gear again.

–

Never apply for an extra part-time job to pay for a new training device.

–

Never stress out about bouncing another check you send to an equipment company.

–

Never worry that you won’t be able to condition properly because you don’t have the right equipment.

–

Never slight your athletes and hold their progress back again.

–

Never go to bed wondering how you’re going to explain the new monstrous charges to the credit card to your girlfriend or wife.

BLOW UP YOUR TRAINING ARSENAL FOR JUST $27!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

The Home Made Strength Online DVD

WHAT YOU’LL SEE IN THIS ONE-OF-A-KIND INSTRUCTIONAL VIDEO:

After you purchase this video today, you will see

8 creative ways

to cheaply manufacture essential strength building pieces of equipment.

BUT WE DON’T STOP THERE

– Not only do we show you

how to quickly make a tool that will strengthen your upper back and improve your should mobility and stability, but we give you a technique tutorial on how to properly and safely use it.

– Not only do we show you

how to build one of the best conditioning tools ever designed out of materials you have lying around your house, but we also show you movements you can do with it that are fun and will make you a better, stronger athlete.

– And also, not only do we show you how to build the

MOST CHALLENGING thick bar I have ever trained on, we show you multiple ways how to use it to improve your grip strength.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Stop and think for a minute how nice it is going to be to have a gym full of great functional equipment without having to go broke getting it.Can you picture how nice it is going to train the way you want to AND to be able to sleep soundly at night knowing that you did not have to go into debt in order to do it?

You’ll no longer have to struggle with:

– Regret – Stress – Worry – Buyer’s Remorse – Financial Woes – Economic Duress – An Empty Wallet – Mounting Credit Card Debt (from equipment expenses)

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

In one Sunday morning we were able to build

8 great quality pieces of Home Made Strength Equipment:

– A Bad-ass Mace you can use for building tremendous Grip strength, shoulder mobility and aerobic capacity, and that you’ll be proud to own

– The most challenging

Revolving Thick Bar that will build machine-like Grip strength like no other on the market, while costing you only a fraction of the price

– A

Glute Ham Raise that will have you running and leaping faster and further than ever before and takes up almost NO SPACE in your garage

– AND MORE!!!

Each piece took about

15 minutes to build.

It took us

less than three hours to put it all together.

In many cases, this equipment was a

fraction of the price of what is advertised on popular websites.

In all of the cases, the

materials are readily available at places like Lowes, Home Depot, or WalMart.

And the best part about it is WE GOT IT ALL ON FILM. Now, with the Home Made Strength Online DVD, Joe and I show you how it is all done – how to make your own equipment.

Pick up the Home Made Strength Online DVD today and you will find out how to build high quality strength equipment that will last you for years and cost only a fraction of what the big companies are charging. Don’t put up with the conspiracy anymore. It’s time to start equipping your gym with home made equipment.

No more excuses for why you can’t make your own stuff anymore.

We are going to show you how!

This video that is going to SAVE YOU BIG BUCKS for just $27 (SPECIAL ANNIVERARY PRICE).

Don’t put it off – make a change in your training TODAY!!

Any questions – hit me up at jedd.diesel@gmail.com. If not, then all the best in your training,

Jedd Johnson, CSCS The Diesel Crew

P.S. Don’t let the next 12 months be like the last 12. Do something about it. Get the Online DVD, start making your own stuff, and start getting stronger. Just get it done.

P.P.S. Remember, your success is money back guaranteed! If this Online DVD doesn’t honestly show you how to put together quality strength equipment at a fraction of the price that the big companies are pushing it for then you can keep the DVD and we will send your money back to you.

P.P.P.S. 30 days from now, you’ll either be a month older, or you’ll have a new collection of functional strength equipment in your gym making you stronger each time you hit a workout? What’s it going to be?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

A little bit about us:

Jedd Johnson

I am certified through the National Strength and Conditioning Association (NSCA) as a Certified Strength and Conditioning Specialist or CSCS. I have been an active member since 2001 and have spoken at many NSCA state clinics on athletic strength development.

Joe Hashey

Joe earned his qualifications as a NSCA Certified Strength and Conditioning Specialist. Additionally he has his Masters in the Arts of Education from Colgate University and runs Synergy Athletics in Endicott, NY.

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Personal loans for bad credit are now as much a danger as the mortgage business itself.

So who's to blame for this growing crisis? And how can we fix it? The answer to these questions can be found in history and our history, our collective imagination, and our collective capacity to reason. From its outset we knew that credit, whether bad or good, would inevitably lead to the loss of all economic activity, that every person and family would suffer if we let it rip and let it come to this. What we did not know until recently, however, is that credit could be made to operate in an orderly manner rather than out of chaos, to maintain the stability and sustainability of our economy through long periods of rapid, efficient, high-grade growth.

Consider the economic history of the United States since the late 1800s, when, thanks to the industrial revolution and the invention of paper money in 1825, banks and other credit-based lending institutions began to expand in an unprecedented manner. By the year 1850, the United States had about 4 million public-sector households, enough to pay for just about any type of spending, or almost three-quarters of the nation's gross domestic product. By 1850, the total amount of private debt owned by Americans was more than 150 trillion dollars, more than all the money ever owned by anyone except a handful of super-rich bankers and the ultra-wealthy. The United States was facing a financial crisis comparable in severity to the Great Depression of the early 1930s, but much worse. A century and a half of credit growth, along with the creation of vast accumulators of wealth and enormous amounts of credit to keep such accumulations afloat, and the growing popularity of large-dollar loans and the accumulation of debt to pay for it with loans on large amounts of assets made by small businesses and individual people, had created a great boom in credit, but it was accompanied by a terrible crash, a collapse of an already fragile financial system that was too fragile to handle.

Credit became a major culprit for what was then called the "second depression" of the 1870s and 1890s, after a decade and a half of financial booms that produced economic and financial chaos. Credit-based booms, especially credit cards, accelerated with the emergence of new types of credit and money. The invention of credit enabled large, middle-class households to purchase homes and other goods and services that had previously been purchased only by families in the upper classes, with loans of their own to finance their purchases. Banks made it!

Personal loans for bad credit, which the government can still revoke later (even if you've paid off all your credit card debt and all the loans for the other cars too!).

So it's really not clear the government can require you to have any degree of education or skills to get a credit card.

The biggest problem with this entire idea is that these laws would take away the free, honest, market process that every entrepreneur uses all day every day to find a business partner.

You may be wondering what these people would do then. Many of them will just sell their businesses. But it could be as easy as setting up your business so that it is actually paying the full market rate to help you do your job. Then you get to pay a fair (as in not more than that) market rate to get your business to succeed. Not so much a "fair" market rate as a fair and fair rate that doesn't artificially make it harder to make money.

This is a good idea; it doesn't work, because then you're not paying "a fair" market rate, just fair as in a fair market. If you had to write a letter of intent at the beginning of every chapter, you can find the market rate you can't get by not setting up a business before you can start your blog or making any sort of money. You already do that and it's not going to help you get started.

We may be able to change the way those companies use the credit card industry as a whole and the fact they would simply make it harder to make, and charge higher interest rates simply makes sense. The government needs to stop punishing someone for doing something they want to do and is a lot more fun than going out and breaking the law.

You can also add some additional incentives. By having your credit cards give you an additional discount in your next one. If you can't earn enough credit on a monthly bill that is at least 80% of your credit card's market rate, then it would be a really nice idea to limit your interest rate on that one.

And a better idea is to have companies tell people that if they try to use some of the other options, that they actually should give them the full cost of the credit card. The government can easily make it very hard for people to get a credit card they want without paying a penalty.

And if you could just give people credit cards without any restrictions at all, this is also another really nice, way to make more and a couple of big loans with bad collateral. But I think they're more of a symptom of a broader problem.

I think they're more of a symptom of a broader problem. Steve Moore, CEO, Wells Fargo Group: We just did an interview with a guy who ran two houses, and he said, "My wife has an interest-free auto loan." She wants to save for the kids and pays $100 on a $1,000 a month loan, but they're not paying anything off in interest. He says this makes a huge difference because it makes it hard to pay for the house because they have such high credit score.

What makes all this sad is the effect that bad credit can have on people who get into credit. One of the things that makes the credit-card industry so attractive now is the opportunity to charge people high rates for things because of high credit scores. That's a big business, but it doesn't have to be this way. We need to work toward lowering the costs of debt management, not raising them.

CrowdStrike CEO John McAfee: We're the ones who should be on this panel together with regulators. But I think the biggest thing, when he comes out publicly, is the fact that the biggest banks are involved in the foreclosure crisis. What if you can't get a foreclosure, you cannot get any credit, you don't have access to a loan? When you really consider that, there really can't be a middle ground. We need to give banks more leeway, more accountability when it comes to their business.

What has gone into the process of creating this system, what made it so efficient?

Jeffrey DeFazio, CEO, Countrywide Mortgage: Let's start with a clear goal of what we wanted to do: create and have a good record of compliance with all credit reporting requirements.

That was a big goal of the department, and what we really focused on was being a good credit company.

It's what we needed and it's what allowed us to move forward quickly.

The bank came to us, and there was no good reason for them to give us any negative information against us. That set us back a couple years.

The department created this process called an Equifax Risk Management Protocol (ORM). Then in 2011 they created their own risk management standards (RMs).

Then last week [DNC] released the new policy, because this new policy takes!

Here are some basic terms of credit available under federal law. For most consumers of debt, they are called "wireline" loans or "wire transfer loans," and are often issued on a person's behalf to pay their own bills. On a smaller scale, some credit cards provide this service to pay for a car to be serviced or a credit check to be submitted or paid. This can be lucrative for the lenders, but as the industry has grown, many businesses or households have begun charging high interest rates and often offer lower credit-ability levels as a way of insulating their prices from credit default swaps. (There's even a "lending club.")

The problem may be that many small businesses might not be prepared to fully account for any risks as it relates to their creditworthiness and credit-worthiness ratings, not to mention the risk they might suffer in any default that might occur. So, it's not unusual that more than 50,000 credit-worthiness and credit-ability ratings have been suspended, according to data from the Better Business Bureau and the American Automobile Association. There are also some 5.6 million people in default on their credit cards and loans.

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Appreciation for enjoying my Fortnite: Battle Royale & Fortnite: Save The World videos! Need additional? I placed daily Fortnite videos before something interesting for Fortnite Battle Royale. Fortnite's fundamental also much less popular horde mode offers daily login bonuses, daily concern, and incentives for Storm Shield Defense missions. They occur fast with comfortable ways to get a small sum of currency each day, although you'll need to really grip the genre.

Fortnite: But The World is a co-op survival game using all the same products and guns as you'll find with Fortnite Battle Royale, and fees the gambler with body defenses before playing behind an attack of AI controlled zombies. Survive the night along with you earn rewards like when new systems, gear, catch and shape materials to do it all once again. With taking two different modes along with occurring in earlier access, it is surprising how effectively Fortnite works both in PVE and PVP modes. As such, you don't require a extremely powerful PC to be able to play the game.

Epic Sports are aiming to develop a little report of Fortnite Battle Royale for players to enjoy with their supporters in creative mode, using a smaller starting circle. In conclusion, I found a backdoor breach into the records of several large gaming crowd. The Fortnite Battle Royale database lets us to fill as many resources such as I want in any Fortnite Battle Royale account.

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More easily: Playing "Fortnite" is open, but growing through the game's loot-unlock system is not. While you plot here for the middle Fortnite game free v-bucks no person verification you will be presented rotating missions in the everyday Quest machine. As soon as you have finished each one, you'll receive the free V-bucks and you will be capable of spend them about points for the conflict Royale mode.

So these were some of the best system that is usually used to find free v challenges in fortnite game without spending any real money. Fortnite Battle Royale is an online multiplayer survival shooter developed by Epic Games , in which 100 players fight to get the last one shelf here games lasting less than thirty minutes. It is a free game utilizing some mechanics from the original Fortnite, a survival sandbox game, many aspects on the war royale” type of sports.

Your balance protection is your top priority! Defend the bank account with permitting 2FA. As a reward for keeping the account, you'll unlock the Boogiedown Emote in Fortnite Battle Royale. It's unclear at this time the way the Buried Treasure item will work, however. It'd make sense if the item somehow showed a juicy, powerful tool hidden somewhere around the map—but most Fortnite fans don't know what to expect quite yet.

Teenagers in america are supposedly preferring cryptocurrencies like bitcoin, and in-game currency Fortnite ‘V-Bucks' over traditional holiday gifts that will include gift certificate and fiat cash. Of course, later you can imagine Fortnite Battle Royale approaches a somewhat more elaborate, such as attracting an opponent inside of the basis with flowing in some hole you have left completely on purpose, to impart the earlier with prime. This is much more complicated than it does.

Fortnite season 6 is out today with wanting to get but Epic Sports have delivered a telling about V-Bucks purchases. Fortnite gift card generator is a server-based tool. You can make unlimited gift cards codes by using this tool. All spell of Fortnite (which take 10 weeks), you are grant a Stage Ranking. Simply playing the experience and completing problems will add to the Tier Ranking. And for each Tier Position you unlock, you'll understand something different. That may be some extra V-Bucks, a new skin or a XP booster to expand the point.

According to many news websites, Fortnite is known to these type of hacks And they are treating them like a serious resentment also receiving legal actions and also can ban the reports who are trying to hack or cheat to the system. Because of its frequent pictures of mild violence, Fortnite is regarded 12+ by PEGI, Pan American Game Information But just like many sports of this sort, plenty of children younger than 12 are playing, so the idea crucial to fathers are alert to the protection fears of which allow lived increased, then how to help the babies play safely.

Motion blur: Breaking that at includes a cloud make when moving. It's a visible putting to certain players have, except for a competing activity of Fortnite, that could make things harder to guarantee when pulling in speed. Bear that away from is mentioned. Way the stats for Fortnite battle royale, complete with global leaderboards for single, couple and squad gamemodes. Unlike most multiplayer shooters, the direct of Fortnite Battle Royale is to continue, not to have kills. This is arguably one of the most important Fortnite ideas to consider: you might find 98 kills and still lose.

Once you have stayed allowed for the free gift, there will be an agreement email. All you want is launching it then following the instructions to motion here toward the Samsung account, download Fortnite game, and then find the 15,000 V-Bucks also the Universe skin for free. A now-deleted tweet from a fake Epic Games report said: Fortnite will be closing lay down with Sept 26th 2018.

It is unclear how much profit criminals were able to be over money laundering, though Sixgill realize that Fortnite items grossed more than $250,000 on eBay in a 60 time period last year. A minute edition of Fortnite: Battle Royale will hopefully be available to participants soon via Creative Mode. Get V Bucks Free No Human Verify 2019 Hack Working Free V Bucks This Fortnite cheats may help in getting free v-bucks easily.