#like literally the entire point for why peasants put up with being on the bottom tier and having a crappy overall deal?

[redwolf17]

*whispers* except what Edmure does is literally just how feudalism is supposed to work but GRRM is weird and inconsistent with how he writes it

edmure tully visited harrenhal as a kid and found the writings of aemond karl marx targaryen and thats why he grew up to be a socialist king who deliberately ruined his cringe monarchist nephews war plans and let the smallfolk have shelter in riverrun

[realityhelixcreates]

Beta, Theta, and Me Chapter 7: The Invisible Cage

Chapters: 7/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Avengers (Movies) Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG

Warnings: Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not right now),

Characters: Loki(Marvel) Additional Tags:  A/B/O, Sorta, More Of An Exploration Of Life And Self Expression Within An A/B/O Framework, Loki Does What He Wants, But Loki Does Not Actually Do What He Wants, Antagonistic Bosses, Loki Has A Throne Now, But It’s Not What He Wanted

Summary:  Loki and his servant discuss the nature of freedom.

You found yourself hiding in your apartment for several hours that day. Loki had gotten a call-the first you could remember-and had instantly bid you leave his presence. In fact, he said he would have preferred you leave the building altogether, but it was suddenly pouring outside, so you'd opted to hide out in your room instead.

You didn't know what would cause him to act that way, but you'd tried to use the time to take a nice relaxing nap. But the sound of rushing wind had rattled the tower, and someone had entered Loki's apartment without bothering to be quiet about it.

Shortly after that, the shouting had begun.

So much for napping.

You opened your door just a crack, and peered out into the round living space down the hall.

Thor was there.

THE Thor, the God of Thunder himself, the only man you'd ever thought might make a good case for monarchy.

He was pacing back and forth in front of Loki, gesticulating broadly, both of them speaking in raised voices. You didn't understand the language at all, it was round and bouncy, with long rolled R's, and rock hard consonants. They didn't seem to be fighting; this was not a shouting match with each other. This looked like shared anger, a common indignance over some other subject.

They discussed loudly with one another, Thor standing across from Loki, around the little table where you shared meals. He was drawing something in a note book, tapping the paper for emphasis, while Loki took up the pen and drew something else. Eventually, the loudness died down, both men becoming absorbed in whatever plan or problem they were going over, and you hid back away in your rooms, satisfied that there wasn't going to be a fight.

They were more than a little frightening when they shouted. There was power in those ancient voices, and it jellied your insides. What must it have been like for people, hundreds of years ago, to hear these beings speak? It wasn't surprising that bygone societies had been built around them.

Thor left eventually, with grim laughter, but seemingly on good terms. When you slunk back out into the hallway, Loki remained at the table, writing in his notebook. He seemed tense, but not angry.

“So...” You started. Loki blew out a long breath.

“I desire some kind of sweet confection.” He said. “If you do not already know how, please learn to make some kind of cake or cookie, and then do so.”

“And then...”

“And then eat some with me.”

Dismissal then. So be it. He'd tell you, or he wouldn't, what business was it of yours?

It was time to level up. It was time to learn how to make cookies.

                                                                         ******

You knew that if this were a movie, or TV show, smoke would billow out once you opened that oven, and your cookies would all be burnt. But that's not what this was, and your cookies were actually fine. A little flat and crispy around the edges, but perfectly tasty. Loki seemed to take extra pleasure in their crunchiness, a detail you filed away for later. He was still agitated, but it was like a swift current at the bottom of a calm stream. You found yourself a bit afraid to step in.

“What do you think freedom is?” He asked abruptly. He'd been back into his extra-long-titled philosophy books again. You'd been trying to convince him to move on from Keirkegaard, but the existentialism spoke to him.

He'd had you sit with him next to his huge fireplace, and sing a few times now, and he even translated excerpts from his books for you in order to discuss them with you. He liked your somewhat cynical, layman's view on these lofty subjects, even seemed to find validity in your sometimes frustrated “I don't know, why should it matter?” answers. This time you thought about it for a while.

“I think it doesn't actually exist. It's an unobtainable idea.” You said.

“Care to expand?”

“Well, okay. So what is freedom? That's a really tough question, right? Like, for some people, its 'not being discriminated against because of skin color' or something like that. For others, it as simple as financial stability. But both of those have something in common with what I think is the average definition, which is 'not being beholden to capricious authority figures'. But is that even possible? I mean, say you're a king.

Not literally!” You exclaimed, as Loki opened his mouth. “But as a king, there's supposedly no higher power than you in all the land, right? But...you also have responsibilities. Burdens. You have to rule, and you have to do it well, or you won't be king for long. You still, in some part, owe your time and effort to the people you rule. You aren't free. You can't just do whatever you want, whenever you want. The people won't put up with it. Eventually, they'll rise up an overthrow you, maybe even kill you. It happened a lot.

But if you go with the Divine Right idea, even though you're telling the peasants that they have to do whatever you say because it's God's will, it's still admitting that you answer to a higher power. Therefore, you are not free, because you are under the authority of a deity and supposedly have to abide by their rules and doctrines. If you don't, your Divine right to rule may be revoked and again, if you have ruled poorly, you'll be overthrown and killed.

You can't even reach freedom by removing yourself from the chains of society. Take yourself off to some deserted place with no other people around, and you can do whatever you want, right? Except you still have to eat. You still need shelter. You still have to spend a lot of time dealing with those things. You are still trapped by the laws of nature. Try to defy them, and you will be killed.

Even in death...either there's no afterlife, and you just stop existing at all, and therefore can't engage in concepts such as freedom, or there is an afterlife, but it follows the rules of the god who created it, and you have to follow those rules while you're there. There's no such thing as true freedom. It can't be achieved.”

“How does that make you feel?” Loki asked softly.

You shrugged. “Not as frustrated as I should, I guess. I don't feel strongly about it. What am I supposed to do about it, rebel?”

“Isn't that what your parents did?”

“Yeah, and they're both dead!” You exclaimed. Loki fell quiet.

“I'm sorry.” You said. “It's just that everyone who finds out about them expects me to be like them, but I'm just not. I'm not their opposite, but I'm not...them.”

“What happened to them?” He inquired. “I don't actually know about them, save for what you have alluded to.”

“You have a phone, right? Look up the 'Joyful Liberation Compound'. I'll clean up these cookies.”

You washed the dishes and cleaned up all the flour and crumbs. When you joined him at the table again, he was staring at his phone, expression grim.

“Yeah.” You said.

“You are the only survivor.” He stated.

“Yeah, because I ran away when I turned seventeen. Had to smuggle myself out in the back of a supply truck. They didn't let us back outside once we came in. Only very carefully vetted individuals, high in the pecking order were allowed back into the outside world, and then only to recruit or bring back supplies that we couldn't create at the compound. 'Liberation' was right in the name, but we were very Not Free.”

“Brave little thing.” Loki said. “It must have been very difficult to make that choice.”

“We joined when I was fifteen.” You said. “I was only there for two years. Not like the other kids, who were raised there, or spent most of their lives there. They didn't know anything else. Now they never will.”

“Your government baffles me sometimes.” Loki said. “Billionaire slavers are elevated rather than criminalized, yet they're perfectly prepared to raze an entire compound to the ground? With everyone inside? Even the children?”

“They were an accelerationist cult.” You pointed out. “They thought the end of American civilization was coming, and that they were supposed to help bring it about.”

“And your government is full of dominionists and fascists.” Loki pointed back. “This seems nothing more than one civil deconstructionist cult destroying the competition while it is still small.”

“Yeah, it sucks all around.” You agreed heatedly. “That's what happens when you have one set of laws for a favored class of people, and another for everyone else. The scum rises to the top and then chokes out everyone else...Sorry.”

Loki regarded you sourly. “You speak very freely, brave thing.”

“Is it different where you come from?” You asked.

“Yes, actually. We have an unbroken line of succession that oversees a thriving and prosperous culture, kept that way by firm, yet judicious leaders.”

“You tried to take over a whole planet by force!”

“I intended to fix your crumbling infrastructure and even out your unbelievable inequality issues.” Loki insisted.

“By enslaving us all? Making us all equally subservient to you?”

“There is a difference between bravery and foolishness.” He warned. “I meant to rule as a benevolent god. You do not wish to see me vengeful!”

You snapped your mouth shut. His Alpha scent intensified when he exerted his personality, but it was the power in his voice that shivered through you.

You hated that. You hated it. The scent made you so uncomfortable, dredged up so many tainted memories. And the vocal power of an Old God squelched your spirit. You sat, still and quiet, practically radiating resentment.

After a few moments of extremely uncomfortable silence, Loki sighed.

“It would not have worked.” He admitted. “My intentions were not pure. I would certainly have tried, yes, I would have given my best effort, but there were...other...factors.”

“What other factors?” You asked. Hadn't your real boss, the one that paid you, the Tony Stark one, asked you to find out things about this exact subject?

Also, you were curious. What was the secret? What had brought the great god Loki low?

His mouth opened and then closed. No sound came out. As you watched in growing confusion, his face began to twitch, twisting into a grimace, his eyes filling with frustration. Breath hissed through bared teeth, his fists clenching over the armrests of his wheelchair. Sweat broke out on his forehead.

“Loki? Loki! Stop!” You exclaimed. “Stop, you don't have to! Stop!”

Loki let out a groan of pain, then shoved you away when you grabbed his hand. You fell right on your rear.

“Get out of here!” Loki roared. “Get out of my sight, and do not show your face again today!”

You scrambled to your feet and rushed to your apartment, slamming the door behind you. Your organs felt like water, as you slid down the back of your door, flinching at the sounds of destruction coming from outside.

What was that? What had just happened? Did it hurt him to try to speak of what happened to him? It had seemed like some painful, physical battle. You fumbled for your phone and called your real boss.

[medea10]

Medea’s Worst Year of All-Time Anime/Game Superlative

Nobody saw this year coming…except for maybe Barbara Walters! Who could have predicted that this year would bless us with Australia burning, the entire west coast of the U.S. set on fire, stupid people setting fires because they wanted to reveal a baby’s gender, murder hornets, Ruth Bader Ginsburg dying, an almost war with Iran, serial killer mascots arrested, policemen killing unarmed black folks for having a counterfit $20, policemen killing unarmed black folks for breaking up a fight, policemen killing black folks for holding sandwiches, policemen killing unarmed black folks for fucking sleeping, a wide variety of “Karens” coming out of the woodworks, the end of Bojack, the end of Steven Universe, the end of Empire, and a pandemic so huge it’s killed the economy, canceled fun, and given the U.S. president the dumb-fuck idea of injecting bleach to kill the virus!?

SERIOUSLY, WHO COULD HAVE PREDICTED ALL OF THIS WAS GOING TO FALL IN OUR LAPS LIKE HOT COFFEE ON THE CROTCH?!

At least there was anime this year.

…

At least there was SOME anime this year.

…

Biden won the election and Vickeblanca came out with Black Catcher this year.

Hey internet, it’s Medea here to give you her trashy opinion on this years anime and games that she’s watched or played. Because for some reason, my loser-ass loves to do out-dated as fuck memes! I shouldn’t complain, this shit brings a lot of attention to my page every year when I do this. Yes, 2020 was a complete dumpster fire so large that Domestic Girlfriend is crying foul. Many of us had to go on lockdown and ended up binge-watching the entire 957+ episodes of One Piece. I did no such thing. I am one of those “essential workers” so I didn’t hunker down for 9 months straight. But when I was home, I was watching anime. Actually, I would have done that even without the pandemic. I’m an introvert and find the human race to be deplorable.

You all know how this goes. I go over the best this year had to offer me. I had to search really hard to find the good in this year, especially in the anime world. Many things had to be put on hiatus or were delayed to a later date. Just a reminder, I don’t discriminate in what year the anime or game came out. If something came out in the happier times of 2007, that anime or game counts! Let’s get at it!

First Fandom of 2020: Interspecies Reviewers

Did anyone expect a fan-favorite of 2020 was going to be a hentai? Did anyone have on their batshit 2020 bingo card that a hentai was going to grab everybody’s attention? At the beginning of the year, my mind was set on the Railgun sequel and Eizoken. It wasn’t until licensors, streaming sites, and TV stations in Japan dropped this series that I started to pay attention. And got immediately hooked! It’s about three men going to different brothels and reviewing their time with the ladies. And these ladies are of different species! So with every bang comes possible enlightenment, new kinks, or a night of having your dick sucked off more than humanly possible. This anime blew away all of my skepticism and first impressions right out the window. Maybe it’s because I’m a degenerate and am often curious about sexual content, but this was a guilty pleasure of mine this year.

Favorite Main Character of 2020: Moroha from Yashahime

I know the majority of this story is going to revolve around Towa and Setsuna, but can we please focus a little more energy on the spunky, quarter-demon girl?! I know they’re pitting Moroha as the comic relief, but I’m hopeful that she’s going to surprise us one day. We fans of InuYasha would spend the past decade and some change wondering what InuYasha and Kagome’s daughter would be like. This year, we got our answer with Moroha. She’s got this wild side to her, probably due to the fact that she’s spent her entire life on her own. And while she’s silly at times, she can get down to business in a pinch. She has her father’s sense of smell. She has a sword. She’s able to shoot sacred arrows much like her mother. And to top it all off, she has this special rouge that if she puts it on, she’s able to unleash that ¼ demon power inside her and become Beniyasha! Yeah, I know the power only lasts a minute, she’s only 14, give her a break! I will gladly go through another week scratching my head at the confusion this story gives me if I get to see one more second of Moroha and her crazy antics or her bad-ass slaying.

Favorite Villain of 2020: The Devil Believers from Black Clover

This was one hell of a year for Black Clover. It would have been an easy choice to pick the devil and possible super devil that appeared during the elf fight. But I’d like to give a nod to the filler arc villains. And you can’t blame this group for wanting the power of the devil. They’re literally the bottom-rung of the Clover Kingdom and ones with little to no power or mana. So I can agree with why they would want the power of the devil. For one thing, they’d have more power. And for another thing, they’d be able to exact revenge on those who have wronged them. On some occasions I agree with exacting revenge and when it comes to the nobles and some characters in Black Clover, some folks do deserve death. I mean, have you met the king of the Clover Kingdom? Plus, this town and many other poorer towns get looked over by the kingdom. Peasant uprise! Anyways, I thought these people were really crafty in their crimes. I mean, they were able to knock Asta out on his ass with specially made poisons. I was actually hooked to this story of Black Clover (despite it being a filler arc). I know we’ll never see them again as they have been exiled, but it did have me semi-rooting for them.

Favorite Video Game Character of 2020: Honey from Pokemon – Sword & Shield (Expansion Pass)

Sorry Raymond from Animal Crossing!

Honey is the saucy wife of Mustard…I did not expect that to come out the way it did, but here we are! She has one hell of a team you can fight once a day. She looks out for her husband, the dojo, and the students of the dojo like they were her own children by providing food, drinks, and others. However that does come at a price as you do have to give up a sizable chunk of your watts that you collect in raid dens. I’m sure a bunch of MILF chasers were more than happy enough to give her all their hard-earned watts just so they can have their one-on-one moment on the beach with Honey.

What won me over was when that one guy from a rival dojo bad-mouthed her husband’s dojo and she…I think she kicked this guy’s ass herself. I don’t think she used any of her pokemon. Game Freak won’t show it, but we all know she kicked this guy’s ass to a point where he’s begging for mercy.

Honey, for the win!

Favorite Game of 2020: Animal Crossing New Horizons

This game was just Zen for me. I know the release of this game came with some controversy like Gamestop saying it’s an essential business and will remain open for people to get their copies of the game. Hell, I was one of those assholes in line waiting to get a copy on March 20th. Did I predict that a pandemic was going to rage out of control when I got a prepay copy of this for Christmas 2019? NO! I only predict political things, not deadly pandemics! The good news, we social distanced, didn’t catch the covid and got the game.

Anyways, this game has been a non-stop calming and fun ride. I can even forgive their botch-up of Bunny Day. They even have events for holidays I never thought they would ever touch. I mean, does anybody know when Museum Day is? Probably not until Animal Crossing had an event for it! I’ve been able to let my freak-flag fly with designing my island. And this goes way beyond New Leaf for the 3DS. I can make a sign post with the words “Fuck Trump” on it and post it in my yard. I can dig up trees and plant them elsewhere. I can poop in a toilet. I can craft furniture and put my own design on it. My furniture can have Tracey Sketchit’s beautiful mug on it. I can sit on Tracey Sketchit’s face. I am a sick fuck and I don’t care. I can give Raymond and Bob maid outfits. Magical time in my game! My hopes for next year…I don’t know, get the Festivale furniture, get Papi and Olivia to join my island, maybe visit Danny Trejo’s island, who knows, sky’s da limit!

Favorite Het Couple of 2020: Nasa and Tsukasa Yuzaki from Tonikawa

This is one of the most unorthodox marriages I’ve ever seen. But in this 90 Day Fiance world we’re living in, I shouldn’t pass judgement on these two getting married in episode one and not knowing much about each other. Nasa meets Tsukasa as he was about to be plowed by a truck. Tsukasa saves his life. Nasa says she’s beautiful. Tsukasa says she’ll be his girlfriend if they get married. He agrees. She disappears. Four years later, Tsukasa appears in front of Nasa’s front door with a marriage registration form. Congratulations buddy, you’ve got yourself a waifu! In some way, this felt like watching Yamato and Takeo from My Love Story. I was fascinated with them progressing through their relationship. The only difference is that Yamato and Takeo took the old-fashioned route. This couple did everything ass-backwards in terms of having a relationship. But I couldn’t take my eyes off Nasa and Tsukasa’s relationship during each episode. I find them cute.

Favorite Yuri Couple of 2020: Karin Asaka x Emma Verde from Love Live Nijigasaki High School Idol Club

AAAAAAAAAH! I’M IN IDOL HELL AGAIN! Yeah, no kidding! I came this close to putting Miu x Nicole from that abomination 22/7. But thank God for Love Live! There’s no telling if any of the girls from the Love Live franchise are confirmed to be lesbians. But fuck it, all of them attend all-girl schools, no males exist anywhere, and Sunshine gave us Kanan x Mari! Yeah, you know Kanan and Mari is canon as fuck, don’t at me. So naturally, I found more third-years to ship in the new Love Live series. Now I know I should have put up Ai x Rina or Ayumu x Yuu. Especially the latter due to recent events! But Emma x Karin is my OTP.

Now Emma is an exchange student from Switzerland and in coming to Nijigasaki, she first meets Karin and they became instant friends. When Emma said she wants to become an idol, Karin helped her quite a bit. Even though Karin had no interest in being an idol as her modeling career is starting up, Karin would occasionally help Emma out. And surprise, surprise, Karin ends up fascinated with the idol world and Emma helps her come to the light to be herself there. Okay, I’m totally reading this in some fragmented way, but I’m currently playing Love Live School Idol Festival All Stars and the app game has a lot more stuff involving stuff the anime has yet to talk about. Confirmed or not, Karin x Emma for the win!

Favorite Yaoi Couple of 2020: Eiji Okumura x Ash Lynx from Banana Fish

It took me a while to get here, but I finally made it to 2018’s overlooked gem. Forgive me for not being fully caught up, but from what I’m watching at the moment, I’m sticking to my guns and supporting the hell out of this. I mean, I could have mentioned The Titan’s Bride here…but fuck no, I ain’t goin’ down that mess! Ash has gone through a lot, I mean a helluva lot in his past. His cute boy looks have made him a target on the streets of New York, with mafia dons, and with prison inmates. But dude can kill if you mess with him. Then you have Eiji, who is just a literal example of a “pure cinnamon roll (until episode 8)”. These two are as opposite as you can possibly get. Ash is from New York and Eiji is from Japan. Ash likes hot dogs with everything on it. Eiji likes grilled fish and natto. Ash spent the majority of his life killing on the streets. Eiji was a track superstar. You get my meaning. But when we got these two together it’s quite adorable. Ash is really able to change when he’s around Eiji. Ash isn’t some heartless killer on the street about to kill a thug with prosthetic fingers. When he’s with Eiji, he’s a joker that can easily get scared of pumpkins. And even in later episodes, you got these two acting like a husband and wife.

Fandom That You Didn’t Expect to Get Into: Les Miserables – A Girl Named Cosette

Let me explain a little something. Les Mis! I have never seen the play, watched the movie, or read the novel prior to picking up this anime. Not a single one of those! And that’s a bit of a head-scratcher when you realize I was a bit of a musical theater nut in my teenage years. But one thing I do like is when Japan does an anime based on plays or historical events (like Romeo x Juliet or Rose of Versailles). The second I popped in Les Miserables the anime, I wanted to binge watch the whole 52 episode series. It is by no means a perfect adaptation of the Victor Hugo novel. Several key players end up surviving all the way up to the end of the story! But because this was my very first viewing of anything Les Mis, I took to the story of Cosette and was eager to see what was going to happen next in her tale. Unlike the movies and play, Cosette was the main focus of the story besides Jean Valjean and Javert. And thanks to watching the unfortunate stories of Cosette, Jean Valjean, the Thenadiers, Javert, Marius, and the rest, I thought it was time to watch the OTHER adaptations to Les Mis.

…

Russell Crowe sucks.

Fandom That Made An Unexpected Comeback: Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni

Higurashi or When They Cry is one of my favorite fandoms of all time! So naturally when we heard that it was making a comeback, I was excited. It was also very odd that Higurashi was given this sequel or reboot. Ahem! There’s another franchise that needs a face-lift. Umineko still deserves a better treatment. Plus, now that this series was out of the faulty hands of Studio Deen, Higurashi will get the special care it deserves. Believe it or not, it wasn’t just the anime that made a comeback for me, but the manga as well. Since 2009, I’ve read several volumes (out of order) and would every now and then come back to read the story. Back to the anime, this reboot or sequel…you know what, I’m gonna call it a “rebooqual”! This rebooqual sucked me back to the town of Hinamizawa and all the murders. Every week, I find myself comparing the current episode to one from the 2006 version. But then the fourth episode of each arc seems to catch me off guard.

Where are they going with this story and these twist endings to our favorite arcs? I did not expect Rena to turn a simple attempted murder into the end of School Days! I didn’t expect Rika to die in the most disgusting fashion they could think of. Could someone kill Teppei fucking Hojo? I will pay ¥5000 for someone to do that job. So yeah, because I know how much of this plays out and who does what, I’m usually watching and reading while making wise-ass remarks. But I still have fun with it.

Fandom That Inspired the Most Crack: Konosuba

In a year where I caught up with the popular Isekais like Shield Hero and Re:Zero, I found the wacky misadventures of Kazuma Satou to be amusing as all get-out. From the first 5 minutes, I found myself laughing at Kazuma’s misfortune. Seriously, how the fuck do you mistake a tractor for a car, have a heart attack, piss yourself, and fucking die in the first couple minutes to the series? You can only get away with this shit in gag animes! But it’s not just Kazuma’s dumbass, there’s a mage who only does explosions, but loses all her energy after one blow-up. Then there’s a busty, blonde who gets turned on by getting hurt and can’t strike anything with her sword. Anime’s biggest masochist or Cheryl Tunt incarnate, I haven’t decided which one to believe! Then you have this loud, crazy goddess chick named Aqua. She’s also useless about 86% of the time! Watching their unfortunate missions is all the crack that I need to get through this year. Seriously, Darkness is just all kinds of fucked up, but we love her.

Last Fandom of 2020: Yashahime

That’s right, the InuYasha sequel gets top spot here! Even though week after week I find myself asking more questions than when the episode started, I’m still hooked. If you’re like me, you watched and fell in love with the series InuYasha. So if they’re doing a sequel, you’re expecting to see all of your favorite characters from the prequel like InuYasha, Kagome, Miroku, Sango, Sesshomaru, Koga, Rin, and the rest. Actually, no! Quite the opposite! We’ve got Sesshomaru’s daughters, but no Sesshomaru. Rin is sleeping in a tree we think! We’ve got InuYasha and Kagome’s daughter, but they’re M.I.A. None of the girls even know a thing about their birth parents.

Now are these new characters a catch like the ones from the previous series? Some are! The three main girls, yes! Especially Moroha! I’ve already praised her name earlier in the superlative. Towa and Setsuna do take on some personality traits from their parents. Setsuna is definitely serious like Sesshomaru and Towa sometimes has a carefree yet loyal aura to her like Rin. I know I’m always skeptical when a series gives us a sequel featuring the offspring of the main characters. Especially when you’ve got some lame examples like Boruto and Eureka Seven AO (I might retract my diss on Boruto later)! As each week gives us a new episode, we’re unraveling new clues into a lot of things involving our old favorite characters, as well as the new ones. So I have high hopes for Yashahime for the time being!

[thatboomerkid]

PORTALS

We open weird portals to the Underworld and pull the Damned out for cash [part 1]

Hellcrashers Fiction by Nonbinary Bones

I broke open the factory door with a crowbar and entered a decrepit manufacturing plant. The soot-covered facility went bankrupt years ago and still leaked chemical waste into the “Mighty Missisip’” several decades later.

For a brief moment, the only noises were the icy wind racing over the waterfront and the soft ticking sound of the van’s engine behind me. The side panel of the van slid open.

“Sweet baby Jesus, it’s colder than a witches’ tit in a brass bra out here!” Felix exclaimed.

I nodded my agreement as a mechanized lift lowered my co-worker’s wheelchair to the ground.

Jackie hopped from the passenger seat, her military boots crunching on the wooden timbers of the boardwalk.

Sections of the greasy promenade had rotted away, revealing the polluted harbor below. The rancid waters stank of dead fish and petroleum. A huge rickety crane loomed overhead, its base squatting in the water, rusting its way towards oblivion.

Jackie opened the back of the van, rooted around, then pulled a bulletproof vest on over her tank top. She held another vest out in her grimy hand. I took it with a grateful nod.

Vasquez put The Club on the steering wheel, a sunshield on the dash, and began inspecting his gear. He may have been an OCD prick, but he knew how to plan a job.

New Kid hovered nearby, hands in his pockets.

“Hey Bitchnugget, try doing something useful for a change!” Felix jibed.

We grabbed our camping gear and entered the factory. Light filtered in through broken windows from sodium streetlamps outside. The center of the room was illuminated, but darkness clung to the corners. Conveyor belts and walkways filled the cavernous space like a real-life version of Chutes and Ladders. The air reeked of grease and metal. Rusted machinery spoke of long years of disuse.

Felix accidentally rolled right through a pile of animal droppings and cried out in disgust at getting shit in the tire treads. His shouts echoed in the gloom.

I dropped a duffel to the floor and opened it up, revealing a cache of weapons. We divvied up the contents so each of us had gas masks and guns.

“Alright everyone, huddle up.” I said. Everyone gathered in a semi-circle. “Vasquez, give us the rundown.”

“Today is a standard snatch-and-grab. Our target is named Aurora Laura.” He held up a centerfold spread ripped from an adult magazine. The lewd pose didn’t leave much to the imagination. “Real name Laura Brown. Originally from Omaha.” He squinted at the glossy pages. “Measures 34B, Waist 25, Hips 26. Likes puppies and men who aren’t afraid to show their vulnerable side.”

The New Kid blushed, Jackie snorted, and Felix grinned.

“We have reliable intel that the client’s Dearly Departed is being held in a Domain known as Hotel California. Basically, it’s worse than the worst ‘No-Tell Motel’ you’ve ever imagined; word on the street says each Dweller gets their own room, so we’re searching door to door.” He sighed.

The rest of us groaned out loud. “The floor-plan tends to change on its own, so watch out for that. This isn’t Scooby-Doo: we do not split up under any circumstances.”

“If you see something valuable on the way out, grab it. And I’m talking something portable. Smaller than a breadbox. We don’t want another incident like last time.”

Vasquez looked pointedly at Felix before continuing.

“Garrett, you’ll pop the Cherry for us.”

I nodded in response.

“We go in, acquire the target, and get the fuck out of Dodge. Any questions?” Vasquez looked at each of us with an upraised eyebrow.

New Kid raised his hand like a schoolboy.

“Why am I not surprised?” Felix asked the ceiling.

“What’s a Cherry?”

“It’s a door, Kid. A gateway Down Below Where The Bad Men Go.”

“Oh, right.” he said, blushing.

“Okay then, let’s get to it.” I said.

Past wasp’s nests and sticky linoleum floors I found a door with an “Employees Only” sign on it. The door-frame sagged, dislocated from rotted walls heavy with mildew. The door had warped over time so even though it was unlocked I almost couldn’t get it to budge. The factory door bore battle scars and boot prints from a hard fight with someone who lacked a crowbar. Someone like me. Busting open the door revealed a tiny office containing a desk, chairs, and an empty safe. Nothing worthwhile. I closed the door again.

From my backpack I took a jar of a milky yellow fluid and a barbecue basting brush. When I unscrewed the lid, a nasty rotting smell wafted out. My nose wrinkled in distaste as I began painting the door hinges in slime.

“What the Hell is that?” inquired the New Kid over my shoulder.

“Kid, Crashers never say the H-Word. Never. Not even Topside if we can avoid it. I told you this before we started.” I said.

“Aw, come on! That’s some superstitious bullshit!”

“I mean it.” I glared at him. “Watch your fucking mouth or you’ll jinx the whole Crash. Do not say the H-Word.”

“Sorry. What the heck is that?”

“Ever hear of ‘bukkake’?” I replied.

“No?”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

“Okay, but why are you doing that?”

“This particular Cherry won’t pop until the hinges have been lubed with actual body secretions. And before you ask: no, spit won’t cut it. Just be grateful the gateway doesn’t need it fresh.”

“Are they all like that?”

“No, some of them only open at midnight or you have to make a cat cry in pain. It depends on the Cherry.”

“Can I ask you a question?” the Kid asked, shuffling his feet uncertainly.

“Another one? Sure, Kid. Ask away.” I replied patiently.

“What makes a Cherry open where it does? I mean, if they can open anywhere how come a gateway doesn’t open up in the middle of Times Square? Or in a daycare?”

I paused for a long moment, considering.

“Rust and despair. Plants need water and sunshine. Mushrooms need shade and shit. Cherries need rust and despair. Simple as that.”

When I finished painting the hinges the door creaked open on its own, this time revealing a rickety wooden staircase down into darkness. Felix cracked a couple chemical glow sticks and shook them. They began glowing with a golden-green light and he tossed them through the doorway.

I grabbed the handles behind Felix’s wheelchair and edged it closer to the Cherry.

“Hey careful with the merchandise, peasant!”

“I ain’t afraid to kick a cripple downstairs.”

Felix stood up on the other side of the portal.

“What the fuck? You’re just faking?” Kid asked in an angry, disbelieving tone with eyes wide as dinner plates.

“No, Cuntpuddle.” Felix said, rolling his eyes. “My legs don’t work Topside, but they work just fine in the Nether.”

“Topside?”

“That’s just a slang term for the world we live in. Topside is the place that the Damned covet beyond all else and the rest of us take pretty much entirely for granted. Don’t know what you got ‘till it’s gone, as they say. It’s the world you see out your window, where we get born, fuck around, and die. It is what it is and for the most part it’s a pretty okay place to be. For the most part.”

“But how can he walk on the other side of the gate?”

“I don’t know Kid, but as soon as you figure it out let me know.” I said.

We turned on our lights and the five of us moved slowly downwards, footsteps echoing in the gloom.

The staircase was built out of salvaged boards, no two of which were the same; different lengths, different colors. There were fourteen steps exactly, but the topmost step was smaller than all the others and bright red. A last minute addition to avoid Unlucky 13 perhaps.

My nerves were on edge as we descended. Every little creaking step telegraphed our movements to anything lurking nearby.

At the bottom of the stairs we found a diseased and barren wasteland. The ground was black and filthy like the Athabasca oil sands of Canada. My throat and lungs ached. Noxious smoke filled the air and made breathing a chore.

I saw a hundred burning fires lighting up the distant mountains. That made me real tense. I’d watched “The Hills Have Eyes” once and the things down here would have put cannibal mutant rapists to shame.

Glancing backwards, I saw the staircase slowly disappearing like it’d never existed.

----------

In front of us, our destination was uncomfortably close. Squatting less than two hundred yards away was a dilapidated motel modeled after every circa-1940s cheaper-than-shit roadside inn on “the wrong side of the tracks” but worse. The walls had been marred by fire. A flickering red neon sign stuttered “VACANCY” into the night. On the porch was a screen door creaking back and forth on its hinges as if begging for relief. Acid rain tinkled weakly against the corrugated tin roof.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Hotel California.” I said.

Inside, we found rusted pipes leaking raw sewage and rotting the stucco. Fungal blooms spread over paper-thin plywood with the texture of rotten leaves splintering at the softest touch. Nearly every window was boarded up over the remnants of razor-sharp glass.

We searched room to room, seeing some of the sickest things you’ve never imagined. Things that can’t be unseen. It took us almost three days to find our target. I think the New Kid must have puked twenty times during that stretch.

Sleep was damn-near impossible for a variety of reasons. The moth-eaten sheets were stained yellow, constantly and consistently damp with every body fluid imaginable.

Thanks to the AC units mounted in the walls, most of the rooms were freezing cold and when I say freezing cold I mean actual people covered in actual ice. Never thought I’d see someone with their own urine frozen in an icicle hanging from their crotch.

Some of the rooms were blazing hot, literally cooking the inhabitants alive.

“Mmm! Smells like down-home cooking!” Felix quipped as he caught a whiff of scorched human flesh.

The ice machine down the hall never actually worked until you were attempting to sleep at which point it spontaneously turned on. It wouldn’t do a damn thing when you wanted it to but it would happily and loudly make the sound of a thousand blenders grinding away at a fistful of pebbles as soon as you laid down.

The first night we were camping in one of the motel rooms when the old TV in the corner suddenly turned itself on, self-tuned those old rabbit ear antennas covered in foil, and scared the ever-loving crap out of us by blasting some repugnant program at maximum volume.

The New Kid unplugged the television from the wall, but it stayed on anyway, causing him to start pounding on it angrily.

“Kid, quit making such a damn racket.” Vasquez said.

“Okay, fine.” the New Kid huffed, throwing himself down on the bed. “So here’s a question.”

“Jerkstain, your entire life is one big fucking question.” Felix quipped.

“Where do those shows come from? Is it something the Hotel made to screw with us?”

“Actually, that is a good question.” I said, busily stripping, cleaning, and reassembling my rifle. “I’m fairly certain those shows are piped in from CRT.”

“CRT?”

“It’s another Domain in the Big Bad. Except instead of a motel imagine a sewer filled with television sets and bad wiring. All the TV channels are fucked-up versions of the worst shows ever made.”

“Yeah Dickcheese, if you survive this job maybe someday you’ll get to go there!” Felix said, holding out a flask.

The Kid ignored the jibe but accepted the flask and took a swig of whiskey.

“For example?”

“Okay, you’ve seen the show ‘Survivor?’ Now imagine it’s more like the Hunger Games except the contestants hunt and eat each other to survive.”

“Jesus…”

“Trust me Kid; you really don’t want to watch anything on that boob tube. Here’s a question for you, Kid. How’d you get into this line of work?”

“Well… I dropped out of high school and started getting into trouble, hanging out with a bad crowd. One night my gang broke into a moving van and the cops spotted us. So I ran and made it into the basement of an abandoned meat packing plant. Found a door leading to a hallway made of baby teeth. The cops following me got eaten by a monster made out of tumors and barbed wire. Bought me time to get back Topside. After that, it was only a matter of time before I found more Crashers. What about you guys?”

“Back in the day I was a long-haul trucker until I went into the wrong goddamn gas station. My partner never really came out again. I found that I’d lost the use of my legs when I dragged myself out of the Pit. I figure if I keep Crashing I’ll find a way to make them work permanently.”

“How about you?”

“Me? I’m in it for the money. Cold, hard cash. This ain’t no charity; I got bills to pay. When I do a job, I expect to get paid.” I said.

“Amen to that, brother.” Jackie said, tilting a bottle in my direction with a nod. “The bigger the paycheck the better.”

“How about you Vasquez? How’d you get into this line of work?”

“I’ve been doing this my whole life, man.” Vasquez replied.

“Say what now?”

“When I was a kid, I was a refugee. My dad brought me to the U.S. from Cuba on a raft made out of old plastic barrels he lashed together. I think I was about nine, maybe ten years old at the time.”

“You’re a Cuban?”

“Cuban-American to you, gringo. I’m a Hialeah boy, born and raised. Before ‘95, if a Cubano set foot on American soil they got the chance to apply for residency status a year later. Lucky for us, we made it ashore before we got picked up on Miami Beach. Dry-Feet, they called us.”

“Dad got a job working graveyard shift at a gas station and I started going to school. I always walked down there by myself to bring Dad a soda and we’d sit and chat for a while. One night I’m going down there right before bedtime and there’s all these police out front with that yellow crime scene tape strung up across the door. The cops say that the robbers put lit matches all over him before they killed him.” He takes a long swig from the bottle.

“So Mom couldn’t afford the rent without Dad, and after that we were sleeping rough. Couch-surfing, church pews, shelters, and sidewalks.”

“My God…” Kid said.

“God? God can’t help us, man. See, Satan led his army to storm the Gates of Heaven and drove God and the angels out. The demons smashed his palace of blue-moon marble into dust and Satan sits on the Throne of Heaven. That’s why our world is so fucked up.”

“So Dad’s spirit came to me. He was bloody and there were these tiny flames burning all over his body. He told me that demons found doors to our world. That’s why the gates keep opening, man.”

“Dad told me that he was joining God’s secret army of angels to take back Heaven. He told me that I needed to learn to fight. To stay strong and smart, so I could count on myself, no one else. To fight back against evil. So I went looking for the gates. You look hard enough and long enough, eventually you find something. And I did.”

“Man… is it worth it?” the Kid asked.

“That’s not the right question.” I said.

“Huh?”

“The real question is do you censor yourself or not?”

“What do you mean?”

“Option A: you say the things you ought to, and shut your mouth on what you actually think. You wear the clothes you’re told to wear, go where they say to go when you’re told to go there, do the things they tell you to do. In return, you get the job, the girl, the two-point-five kids, a white picket fence, and a dog. You get to eat three square meals a day, get laid occasionally, and probably enough money to get you everything you need, some of what you want, and a bed to sleep in with a roof over your head. You’re a slave but you’re comfortable.”

“Option B: you get nothing. You get fuck-all and you’ll like it because you’re free. Go where you want when you want and do what you want to do when you want to do it. Comfort means fuck-all because you’ll probably get arrested, get your head kicked in, or both.”

“So my point is do whatever you want to do because I really don’t give a shit, Kid.”

We sat there silently for the rest of the night. There was really nothing more to say.

It was the second night when the New Kid decided that he actually did want to watch something on TV. Scrambled Porn Sally was pole dancing and the fuzzy static bar was right where you didn’t want it to be.

We found the Kid staring and slack-jawed, his nose touching the flickering television screen. His eyes were watering and blood trickled from one nostril.

I shook him out of it and he mumbled a quiet “thank you.” Every so often I’d catch him stealing glances at the television when he thought I wasn’t looking.

If you were still so exhausted that none of that kept you awake, the phone rang and room service cheerfully provided a complimentary wake-up call just as you were nodding off.

Then there were the cock-roaches. Behind one door we found one of the Lost covered in chittering insects. Carnivorous, angry little bastards about three inches long and sporting chitinous dicks.

The moment it was dark the cock-roaches came scuttling out to bite a hole in your skin, pump their nasty bug-dongs in the bleeding orifice, and lay eggs in your flesh. After a few minutes, the cock-roaches deposited a load of eggs and goop into the poor bastard which then burst open and made a new swarm.

Hiding in every nook and cranny, they skittered into hiding beneath the bed and in the closet when illuminated by a flashlight mounted on the barrel of an AR-15.

The New Kid squashed a couple roaches beneath his boot and the rubber sole began to sizzle. “Damn it! That burns like battery acid!” he shouted.

“Then don’t do that.” I calmly said.

On Day Three we found a Damned that swore up and down he’d seen our target. We’d bribed him with a little baggie of black tar heroin that offered a brief respite from his torment, so we felt confident the intel was solid.

We were moving through the darkened hotel hallways, guns at the ready. The Kid was on point with Vasquez watching his back. Felix and Jackie were in the middle while I was behind the squad.

“This scary-ass motel reminds me of that movie ‘Identity’ with John Cusack. You ever see that shit?”

“Is that the one where Cusack delivers a bag to a creepy motel out in the middle of nowhere?”

“Nah, man. That’s ‘The Bagman’ but it did have a creepy motel.” he said.

“Okay, so is Identity the one where Cusack has to stay in a haunted hotel room?” Jackie asked.

“No goddammit, that’s ‘1408.’ Identity is the one where there’s like a dozen people stranded at this motel in the middle of nowhere and they start getting killed one by one.”

“Okay, first of all: why does John Cusack stay in so many scary motels?”

“Typecasting?”

“And secondly, why are we talking about this while we’re standing in the scariest motel ever?”

“Third question.” I interrupted. “Do you two ever shut up?”

We entered Room 303 and finding it completely thrashed, lingered in the doorway. Mattress slashed, threadbare blankets ripped, and every stick of furniture broken. The stench in the room was overpowering. The source was easy to spot; a cadaver lay rotting amid scattered toys on the floor.

“Rock and roll.” Felix said glibly.

We slowly searched the room.

“Dude check this out!” Felix excitedly waved his latest find: a teddy bear stitched together with human skin, complete with male genitals and real eyeballs too. Just looking at it gave me the creeps.

Giggling, Felix waved the bear inches from the Kid’s face. “Come here and let me give you a big old kiss!”

“Ugh, it’s blinking at me.” Jackie said.

“You’re coming home with me little buddy!” He stuffed the doll into his backpack.

We heard a scraping sound inside a large armoire in the corner with the doors shut. Everyone went silent immediately. Vasquez pointed his gun at it.

“Come on out of there slowly, and you won’t get shot.”

There was no noise or movement of any kind in response. Felix sighed before moving very slowly towards the armoire. He pulled the door open quickly, surprising the woman crouched inside. She was covered head-to-toe with bleeding holes from the cock-roaches.

“Climb out of there slowly, with your hands up.” Vasquez said. The woman seemed to comply with Vasquez’s order, her palms open and weaponless.

The Kid hesitated for just an instant when she sprang at him. The woman grabbed his hand, pointing the gun away from herself and he fired out of reflex, the blast ringing in our ears. He tripped over the corpse on the floor, falling backwards. His head hit the floorboards, dazing him momentarily.

She straddled him, clawing his face and howling like a banshee until Jackie stepped forward and bashed the other woman upside the head with the butt of her rifle. The woman collapsed to the floor, clutching her bleeding skull.

“Oh God, don’t kill me, don’t kill me!” she sobbed as she cowered and covered her head with both arms.

“Quiet!”

The woman shut her mouth instantly, but her body visibly trembled and her eyes welled up. Occasionally, tears ran down her face, leaving twin trails on her filthy cheeks.

“Damn guys, isn’t that a little harsh? I mean, look at her. She’s scared and she’s hurt!” said the New Kid.

“Look Kid, I explained this before but let me make it perfectly clear. She isn’t a person deserving of respect and dignity. She’s a very bad person who did very bad things and ended up in a very bad place.” I said.

“Yeah, but-“

“Everyone, and I mean everyone, in the Down Below deserves to be here. No one wakes up down here for being an atheist, or being gay, or for smoking weed when you were sixteen.” I continued.

“Every single person in the Bad Place committed at least one genuine act of pure, unmitigated evil.” I counted off a list on each finger. “Rape, murder, torture. Shoot, I’ve even been on a job to collect a Wall Street banker who stole people’s retirement accounts then blew it on hookers and cocaine.”

“The point is that they did something that caused pain and suffering to others and whatever they did was enough to earn a ticket Way Down to Hadestown.” I pointed to the woman crouched and shaking on the floor. “That includes Little Miss Sunshine here.”

“You try anything like that again, and I’ll shoot your hands off. You run, I shoot your feet. Am I making myself clear?” Jackie said to our target.

“Yes.”

“Is your name Laura?”

“Yes… how…?”

Felix gripped the woman roughly by her chin and held her face up. Vasquez pulled out the centerfold and looked back and forth from one to the other.

“That’s a positive ID on the primary target.” Vasquez said.

“Great, can we get the Hell out of here now?” said the New Kid.

“Goddammit Fucktard, we told you not to say the H-Word!” Felix yelled angrily. He grabbed the Kid by the straps of his flak jacket and shoved him back against the wall.

The New Kid stammered out an apology, but we all knew the damage had already been done. By all rights, we could have abandoned him right then and there. We could have left him to die, but for the time being, we still needed another pair of hands to finish the job.

“We need to get out. Now. We have definitely overstayed our welcome. Bag her up.” I said.

Felix and Jackie grabbed the target by the arms, holding them together and Vasquez locked handcuffs to her wrists. The Kid shoved a black bag over the target’s head despite her protests.

Prize in hand, we made our way out of the motel room just as fast as we could.

----------

At long last we made it to a stretch of blacktop. Abandoned vehicles filled the road and we cautiously threaded our way around them. Each vehicle was rusted or gutted, and most of them had corpses for passengers. The Damned turned their rotting heads to watch us pass, reaching weakly out to grab us.

Dead weeds stuck up wherever they could find purchase in the cracks. We found that the road had been melted, cooled, and reformed. Several Damned had been submerged in the asphalt, arms outstretched as if surfacing from beneath a pool of black oil. Their cries were muffled but still audible. There were impressions left behind in the asphalt after it had released its prizes to the scavengers who came later.

“Hey, do you hear that?” Jackie asked.

“Hear what?” said the New Kid.

“Sounds like something scraping on metal. Listen. It’s coming from over there.”

Obscured by the tinted windows of a camper shell, something moved in the back of a rusted pickup sitting up on cinder blocks. The New Kid crept slowly up to the back of the truck and dropped the tailgate.

A sleek, obsidian hound with a human head launched itself out of the back of the truck. Its fur was black and glistening, with a body built for speed like a greyhound but with the face of a man. It opened its disjointed jaw and roared like a mountain lion, revealing rows of serrated shark teeth.

Like a heat-seeking missile, it hurtled itself at the Kid with every intention of clamping its jaws around his throat. He brought his arm up to block the hound’s attack and the beast locked its fang-filled maw around his limb.

The creature snarled, shaking the Kid like a rag doll, intent on tearing his arm off in a gout of blood. Claws tore his clothing, and the Kid screamed in pain as triangular teeth began to puncture holes in the flesh of his arm.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a short length of wood. He scrambled for it in the dust with his left hand while the dog savaged his right arm. The New Kid finally managed to wrap his hand around the sturdy board and brought it down on the canine’s square-shaped head in a sweeping arc. There was a loud crack as the board connected, but he could’ve been smacking it with a flyswatter for all the good it did. He struck the sharkdog in its human-shaped face with the board over and over again. The New Kid tried shoving the end into the monster’s mouth to pry it open, but the beast refused to release his bleeding arm.

The moment I saw an opening I shoved my old Ka-Bar knife right into the side of its head. The beast shuddered and died, collapsing in a heap on top of the Kid. He wiped blood and gore off his face and looked up with bleary eyes.

“Told you not to use the H-Word.” I said.

We stopped beside a rusting Quonset hut for a quick break. Jackie dug around in her backpack for a pack of smokes and her lighter. Felix went to take a leak on the other side of the building.

I took a swig from my canteen. The water in the canteen had a sharp taste of iodine from the purification pills I’d dropped in: not unexpected from reclaimed water, but always tough to stomach.

Vasquez sat the package down beside the Quonset and removed her hood long enough for me to give Laura a drink of water. She gulped it down gratefully before we replaced the hood on her head.

I mentally inventoried the remaining water. We all had plastic bottles in our packs plus had the canteen on my hip. I’d read somewhere that the best place to store water was inside ourselves. While I understood that intellectually, I couldn’t help but be daunted at the prospect of making our way across the desert without any water tucked away for later.

Rations were running low too.

We were still many miles away from an exit Topside, and the Bad Place was always full of surprises.

“Hey Garrett. Got a minute?” Vasquez beckoned me over to the side of the building. “You know what I just realized?” he asked.

“That simultaneous revelations aren’t a thing?”

Vasquez leaned in to whisper in my ear. “We are now standing in the Tollway.”

“Route 666?” I asked.

He nodded. “I didn’t recognize it before because there’s no tollbooth and no signs. But one of us is going to pay the toll. You know who I mean.”

I looked over at the New Kid. He was nursing a knot on the back of his head and his face was still all scratched up from Laura’s fingernails. The New Kid removed the sopping bandage wrapped around his arm. The wound where the sharkdog had bit him was black with infected tissue.

Together, we coldly calculated his chances of survival and came up short.

The New Kid was taking a leak on the side of a rusted Quonset hut while Vasquez and I decided his fate.

Rumbling engine noises heralded the arrival of a flat-black sedan on the horizon. A vehicle of generic make and model, the police cruiser had clearly driven through “You-Know-Where” and come out on the other side.

Jackie and Felix grabbed our target and the five of us hustled behind the Quonset, hiding as quick as we could and praying we weren’t seen. The New Kid wasn’t so lucky. The dumb fuck stood there with his dick in his hands and didn’t notice the police cruiser until it was too late.

The battle-scarred vehicle came to a stop, engine idling. The dented drivers’ side door opened and a bipedal male wearing a khaki uniform emerged from the dark interior of the cab. At first glance he may even have passed for human except that every inch of skin was horribly burnt and mutilated. Steel-toed boots crunched on the gravel as he approached.

The Trooper peered at the Kid through his mirrored aviator sunglasses. One hand rested on the nightstick tucked into his belt.

Unsure what to expect, I kept my hand near my pistol just in case.

“You live around here, boy?”

“No sir. Just passing through and found the place like this.”

“I find out you’re lying to me, we’re going to have a problem, boy.”

“Understood.” Every now and then, I caught a glimpse of scarred flesh beneath his shirt.

“Alright then. Just so long as we have an understanding between us.” The Trooper looked around at the horizon almost as if he’d forgotten he was in the middle of a conversation. His gaze settled back on the Kid. “What’s your name, son?”

“My name?”

“Don’t play dumb now.”

Without warning the Trooper pulled a baton from his belt and smashed the Kid with a merciless blow. He doubled over in pain, clutching his belly.

The Trooper loomed over the Kid, lightly smacking the baton in the palm of his palm.

“Looks like you in a heap of trouble here, boy.” the Trooper said with a pronounced Southern accent. He pronounced “here” like “he-ah.”

“You look healthy, don’t have the shakes. No sir, I can tell just from lookin’ at you. You a young man, your back is strong, and you got all your parts in working order, yes sir. You got your whole life in front of you. Seems to me you’ll make a fine slave.”

“You’re gonna dig for us with your bare hands, until your skin is gone, and you dig until your finger bones are worn down to lil’ nubbins. Yessuh, and I’m gonna beat you so bad you’re gonna thank me for the privilege of diggin’.”

The Trooper raised the baton to smash the Kid over the head.

Shots rang out as I unloaded my Glock 9mm into the Trooper’s head, blasting him over and over again. Bullets shattered his aviator shades and tore holes in his khaki uniform before the Trooper fell to the ground. We ran up and Jackie fired her shotgun point-blank into the Trooper’s face before checking on the Kid.

“That seems like overkill, Jackie.” I said with a smirk.

“Overkill is nothing but a word.”

“That stick looks like lacquered hickory but felt like rebar covered in nettles.” The Kid hissed.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here. If one Trooper found us, more are on the way.” I said.

The crew hurried into the Cruiser while the target went into the trunk like a piece of luggage.

“Buckle up.”

“I don’t want to.” the New Kid pouted.

That nasally whine was the last straw. Ice water flowed through my veins. It must have showed on my face because when he saw my expression he recoiled.

“I don’t give a fuck what you want. I ain’t your brother, I ain’t your dad. Lately I ain’t even a nice person. If you don’t do what I say when I say I will knock you the fuck out and make it happen. Now buckle the fuck up.”

He buckled up.

I shifted the police cruiser into drive and stomped on the gas. Nothing happened. “No.” I stomped on it again, shouting louder each time. “No, no, no! I do not believe this horseshit!”

“Is it a Ford?” Felix joked.

Aggravated, my forehead hit the steering wheel. The Troopers were bearing down on us fast. I stomped down on the gas out of frustration and the Cruiser lurched forward. Surprised, I looked up and the vehicle died again, whiplashing our necks. “What the-?”

I closed my eyes, gripped the wheel, and stepped on the gas. The Cruiser moved forward slowly.

“Guys, you’re not going to like this.”

An hour later and my heart was still hammering in my chest and I was white-knuckling the wheel. Vasquez sat right beside me, giving me directions as I drove pedal-to-the-metal with my eyes shut tight.

Bullets pinged off our vehicle and I ducked out of reflex. I could barely hear the gunshots over the roaring engines and police sirens.

“Can’t this piece of shit go any faster?!” Jackie screamed inches from my ear. Jackie turned in her seat, firing a few potshots at the other cruiser.

Felix rooted around in the Army surplus duffel bag and pulled a homemade pipe bomb from the bottom. He lit the fuse with a cheap gas station lighter, let it cook for a moment, then lobbed it out the window at our pursuers.

His throw fell short, and the pipe bomb landed in the middle of the road.

Whether it was Luck or Fate or God deciding to finally give us a break, the second cop car drove over top of the pipe bomb, straddling it with all four tires before it went off.

The police cruiser lifted off the ground, bursting into flame and sending two Troopers screaming into oblivion.

“Keep driving, let’s get as many miles away from here as we can before this thing runs out of gas.” Vasquez instructed.

The sun was setting, and already a cold wind was sweeping down from the hills. Within an hour the temperature would drop by fifty degrees. Sleeping in the exposed cab of the police cruiser would prove to be a very uncomfortable option that night.

And the next night.

And the next.

Four of us left the New Kid hogtied and blubbering in the middle of the road. None of us said a word about it, but we all knew our offering was accepted because we found an exit Topside within an hour.

To this day, I don’t know what dragged him screaming into the desert. But the toll had to be paid.

----------

We delivered the package to a seedy film studio on the outskirts of Las Vegas, Nevada. On the soundstage was a set built out of plywood and made to look like a teen girl’s bedroom: painted pink and full of stuffed dolls. Stage lights hung from metal bars where the room’s ceiling should be, and several cameras were aimed at the bed from different angles.

We were escorted by a couple of hired goons. Low-rent thugs with chrome-played Glocks tucked in the waistband of their jeans.

Vasquez led the way past the stage lights and cameras. Jackie and I flanked the package, while Felix rolled behind with a sawed-off shotgun cradled in his lap.

“You know what the worst job here would be?” Felix asked.

“What?” I sighed.

“Janitor. Can you imagine cleaning this place every night? ‘Excuse me sir, can you lift your feet? I’m trying to mop here’.”

“Jesus, Felix.” I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

“Every night you have to clean it! You can’t imagine the smell!”

“Sure I can.” Jackie retorted. “Like a warm turtle tank probably.”

Felix chortled loudly.

Our customer was a loathsome weasel named Bob Gunkel. He was fat, slowly sliding his way to four hundred pounds. He came out of his office wearing a Hawaiian shirt with huge sweat stains under his pits. He wiped cheese puff dust off his hands, leaving long orange fingerprints on his khakis. The very sight of him made my skin crawl.

“Well? Did you bring her back to me?”

Vasquez pulled the black bag off the package’s head.

“You did it! I have to admit, I had my doubts when I heard you could bring her back but you actually did it!” Gunkel caressed her with his meaty fingers and the expression on his face looked like he was already creaming his pants. She flinched away, but we’d kept the ankle chains and handcuffs on for a reason.

“Laura, sweet Laura, I know I got carried away the last time we were together, but I promise you this time is going to be different!”

Vasquez gripped my arm before I even realized my fist was clenched.

“Sir, not to interrupt, but if you’ll just pay us our fee we’ll be on our way and leave you two alone together.”

“Of course!” He snapped his fingers and one of the goons retrieved a couple of greasy fast food sacks, handing them to Vasquez.

Vasquez checked the paper bags and the wads of cash inside. Jackie and I watched the goon squad to see if their hands moved towards their pistols.

“Are we good?” Gunkel asked.

Everyone held their breath for a moment.

“Yeah, we’re good.” Vasquez said. “Let’s move out, team.”

“You lovebirds have a real nice time now, y’hear!” Felix called on the way out.

Later that night we were sitting in a strip club called Sin Bragas working our way through our second bottle of Don Julio Blanco.

On the asphalt, neon-drenched streets of Topside, we're nothings and nobodies. Between the fast food and taxes, the bad gas station coffee and the past-due child support payments, we’re just pieces of soiled human garbage. In a world of drugs, traffic, radio, politics, smoke and mirrors, we’re little more than dirty, disposable pawns.

Yet amongst the freak show outlaws and leather-clad outcasts, the occult cabals and deranged sickos, the demon summoners, the adrenaline junkies, and conspiracy nuts who make up the heart of the Hades-diving fringe, we’re death-defying, bigger-than-life rock stars.

Every form of fame has its own form of groupies. There are women who sent marriage proposals to Ted Bundy when he was on Death Row, for God’s sake.

Most of us had a scantily-clad woman hanging on an arm or crawling in our lap. Jackie was busy showing off her new tattoo, flexing biceps as big as my head. Her upper arm shined with fresh ink depicting a sexy Devil Girl straddling a black spade with the number “13” in racecar red.

“Well, I gotta go drop the kids off at the pool. Felix said.

Vasquez rolled his eyes and jerked a thumb towards the hallway behind him. Felix rolled his wheelchair to the men’s room. I followed.

When I stepped into the men’s room Felix was pounding on the handicap stall door. “As if my life wasn’t hard enough!” Felix shouted.

I was standing at the urinal when one of the local yokels came in. I recognized him as the hillbilly at the bar telling racist jokes to the stone-faced bartender.

Now, every man knows that there are unspoken rules of men’s room etiquette. When you’re first and there are multiple urinals on the wall, you’re supposed to take the spot furthest from the door. When you come in second, you take the spot furthest from the first guy. What you don’t do, what you never, ever, ever do is stand at the urinal directly adjacent to the first man. That’s a surefire path to an ass-kicking in my book. Of course, this mullet-wearing motherfucker decided to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me.

“You guys are Hellcrashers, aren’t you?” he asked.

I didn’t respond.

“Dude, you guys just go down to Hell, kick Satan in the balls, and rescue the souls of big-tittied single moms. Man, that’s fucking awesome. “What’s it like being a Hellcrasher, bro?”

“Ever hear the one about the guy who wouldn’t shut the fuck up with his dick in his hand?” I curtly replied without looking at him.

“Um, no?”

I reached up and grabbed the hair on the back of his head then slammed him face-first into the tile. His nose broke and he crumpled like a wet paper sack, hitting his chin on the urinal on the way down to the floor. I hosed him down with the contents of my bladder for good measure.

“That’s what it’s like.”

I was washing my hands when I heard Felix shouting.

“Hey! Can somebody toss me some toilet paper? I’m all out of shit tickets over here!”

I left the club without a word.

[thepilgrimofwar]

Her House

Things were finally beginning to fall into place. With the counter-attack stopped, their lines broken, the war against Westheath and House Illithia was quickly approaching it’s only conclusion. Victory. Though she did not know the number of lives it would take to get there, or how. But with the resources of all the other provinces coming under their control, and days away from liberating the capital city of Kearn, it was now only a matter of time.

It was a luxury she was going to use to get Shalemarch in order before the final push. A task that Lirelle had helped of her own accord by obliterating the Springvale Free Company who had been looting their way through her province.

She sought her out after the end of the war meeting, joining her outside the dining hall and looking up at the cloudless stars that night. “I don’t think I thanked you yet,” she began once Lirelle was within earshot. “I know it was to salvage the reputation of sell-swords and mercenaries everywhere to deal with those looters. But regardless, it was a task I could not have responded to as quickly as the Crows did.”

“And it may yet prove to be pointless if the people insist on stirring up more trouble.” Lirelle doesn’t bother to look, Judereth’s gait and voice already showing her exactly who it was without having to look. “If they stoop that low, they’re no more than common bandits, and the State has its hands full with all the ones still on the mainland. They were neither organised nor competent,  frankly speaking, Goodember got swindled.”

“From the way he tells it, they were supposed to be cannon fodder. Reasons why they were up there on the frontlines, even ahead of the militia.” Judereth responds, rolling her shoulder. “That man has some sense, but zero contingencies. Throw a wrench in the works and you can literally watch his mind fall apart from the look in his eyes.”

A small chuckle rises from her, one of the few that Lirelle had heard since the Civil War began. “So based on what I heard earlier, I can count on you to deal with the peasants if things go poorly?” Judereth bites her bottom lip. “An ugly affair to be sure. But at least we can be sure that all that are punished, knew the risks, and raised their torches and pitchforks anyway.”

“Well, in that case let us hope that his tenure under you is uneventful at worst. If you’ve figured how to make him dance I doubt you’ll run into many issues, but if you do I’m sure any of the Crows would be more than happy to assist you. They’re all very very taken by Vissehn’s song. It’s almost inescapable at this point.”

Lirelle could sense Judereth’s discomfort when she brought up the peasants, and her stance relaxes slightly as she turns to face the new Lady. “If they refuse to see sense, we will handle things. The ones that wish to leave are free to go, only those who insist on testing the boundaries of rebellion will be gotten rid of.”

“I’ll make him dance, I’ve made it clear to him that he’s not just my steward, but also a hostage. So far he’s been cooperative. Likely because he sees more profit in working for me than getting hanged. Which is smarter than most Lords I’ve read about” Judereth nods to herself. “But I appreciate the support nonetheless. Especially when it comes to those… Shalemarchers. Might even hire you and The Crows after this is all over for a couple of years just to parade around the province and remind the people that we saved them. Nice cushy job that the Gilders could tell you all about.”

“I’ll make sure that Garris knows to take the job when it comes around. If you do need anything from the Crows he’s the one to look for. I have no intentions of staying once the war is done. MY job here is to bring this to a close as fast as possible so that all of us can be done with this ridiculous business.”

Judereth nods and takes note of that. “So, where are you off to then? Home?”

“If you can call it that. Borrowed time has to run out eventually.”

She regards her form. The bladed arm. The crimson red eyes. “I see,” she bows her head, turning away from the stars. “Then for what it’s worth, it’s been good knowing you and it has an honor to serve with you- However short that time may have been. Part of me wishes we had met before your death. Though, being a logistical officer never straying far from the Heartlands, I don’t see how that could have ever happened.”

Judereth makes another chuckle, darker and more sombre this time. “Maybe if Sederis had siphoned me away to the Guard instead of my father and brother.” 

Lirelle dips her head. “Maybe it’s better that he didn’t. I didn’t know your father or your brothers, but I doubt that any of them would be able to do a finer job than you are with Shalemarch.”

“Knowing father, he’d just have Goodember hanged- Put me in charge of the books, and we’ll be struggling to keep the whole place from just collapsing I bet.” She shook her head. “Then again, more likely, I’d have died instead of them on the same field they did- You did.” Judereth pauses for a good long moment. “What is it like? On the other side I mean. If you don’t mind me asking.”

Lirelle looks up to the sky, here the moon hung heavy and full, almost blindingly bright. "That depends on what you want it to be. Death is as old as existence itself. Anything that it could possibly be like has already been written a hundred times over. Whether you choose to search for what you believe is there or simply unravel is up to your own will." 

She takes the cryptic words and does not question them or ask for an explanation. There was no point to it. This would be as close as she got to an answer and she was content with that. “I wonder what my brothers and fathers chose when they passed on. But best to assume that I’ll never see them again. Can’t be disappointed then.” But though she said that outloud, in her heart, she hoped they were waiting for her and her mother. That they could go onwards to whatever it was as a family.

“Where do you think Sederis is? Try as we might to fill his corpse with Light- With priests and paladins calling for him. But he didn’t come back.”

“Because he’s an asshole.” Lirelle closes her eyes. She knew that bastard was listening.

Judereth looks over. “What?” Gears turned in her mind, and then they clicked. “He chose not to?”

“I was the only priest who would have been able to force him back. And besides, he finally got what he wanted.”

The Banneret nods. “Of course he did,” she looks back up to the stars and wonders what she would choose at the end of things if her family wasn’t waiting for her. “Before you go- really go- we ought to share a drink after this war is over. There should be time for that, no?”

“Time yes, but better if you keep the drinks for yourself. They would be wasted otherwise.” Lirelle smiles faintly.

“That I will do, shame though. I heard you used to be quite the drinker.”

“Well, yes. Better than Sederis that’s for sure. He was hopeless at holding it down, and then he would cheat.” Lirelle breaks out in a rare laugh. “It’s a shame he isn’t around, get him the right amount of drunk and you could convince him to do almost anything.”

“Like what?” Judereth snorted. Though they spoken from time to time, she had never shared a drink with Sederis. Not that it was ever possible. Their views of the Emberglades… His rule as an absent ruler for the first years of his reign, never really sat well with her.

"When we were in Dalaran he spilled a drink on himself and when he went to wash up I convinced him one of my pairs of underwear was his. He complained the entire day the next day but didn't actually bother to check until he finally had a bath." It was the first time since she had returned that her thoughts had turned to things that weren't of immediate concern, and she wasn't prepared for how it felt. It was almost painful how far away those memories were now, where all four denizens of the apartment were split across such great distances. Sederis was waiting for her on the other side, Arrenir had vanished, Elleynah had sacrificed herself, and she was here, fighting a war long past her due.

A smile spread across Judereth’s lips. “Sounds like you shared quite a few good memories,” she commented but dared say no more. “You didn’t say he unravelled, since he chose not to come back. So… He’s waiting isn’t he?”

Lirelle nods. "And leaving me to deal with his messes."

“I’m glad for it then,” she replies. “There’s something to drink two. Two ladies cleaning up after Sederis’ messes.”

-

@retributionpriest @stormandozone @thanidiel

[methoxyethane]

Princess For A Day

This was stupid. Everything about this was stupid. Why did he ever listen to Lance? About anything, in their whole lives, ever? Everything this man said was ridiculous. Keith didn’t even know if he’d won or lost their bet, considering the bizarre rules they’d set for the competition.

Keith and Hunk’s team had one but only by two points. And that meant, but the rules they had agreed upon, Lance had to spend an entire day doing whatever Keith said with no complaints… but Keith had to be wearing a dress the entire time, no matter what.

Yep. Keith had won but not by enough, and so now he got to be princess for a day. Even got a fancy red dress and matching jewels Allura picked out just for him. And the… the heels. He was wearing little ruby slippers. Because he was a princess.

“Oh my god,” Lance laughed, eyeing Keith up down and all around in his silken attire. “You look amazing, this was either the best idea I’ve ever had or the absolute worst! Either way I cannot wait.”

Keith’s glare could have melted steel. “Hold still so I can kick you.”

Lance darted a quick glance down to Keith’s heels, barely visible under the hem of his poofy red Altean Royal Prom Dress. “Uh. Is that a figure of speech, or a literal order?”

Keith blinked, having not actually considered that. “Literal,” he decided, hiking up his skirts with one hand to give himself room for a good wind-up.

He didn’t kick Lance very hard, because that would be meaner than it would be funny; just one good high-heeled jab to hear the sound of his yelp. Oh yeah, Keith decided with a wicked smirk as Lance hopped and clutched at his now-painful shin. He might just have fun today after all.

The thing was, Keith had never had siblings or playmates, so the idea of winning a bet and gaining a slave for a day was something that had never come up during his otherwise eventful childhood. So…. he didn’t know what to do with his own personal Lance For A Day. He knew theoretically he was supposed to be mean, but uh… Yeah. The first thing he ordered Lance to do beside that kicking thing was just to help Keith do his laundry. Exciting, right?

Okay, so Keith sucked. But what was he gonna do here, order Lance to make out with him? Yeah it sounded fun for a while but ultimately how awkward would that get the next day when he couldn’t order Lance to kiss him anymore? Weird, is what it would be. Weird and terrible and stupid. Keith was gonna stick to laundry.

“You’re boring me,” Lance declared after an hour, knotting off and dropping to the floor the leather jacket he had been sewing fixed. Sewing unprompted, might Keith mention - he had only asked if Lance knew how to get that motor oil stain out of the sleeve and Lance had magic’d up a needle and thread to fix a tear in the inner lining all of his own. “This is so BORING, you don’t know how to play princess at all! My sisters are way better at this game than you, I can’t believe how boring this is.”

Playing princess? Was this a bet Lance had a tendency to make and then lose OFTEN? Shouldn’t that dumb bastard have known better by now? Or had he just figured there was no way Keith could ever be as mean with it as his teenage sisters - okay yeah never mind hearing that Keith was pretty sure it was the answer, actually.

“Why,” Keith asked, flipping his voluminous skirts around him on the bed to better settle into some kind of comfortable position. “If you had won the bet, what kind of shit were you gonna order me to do?”

Lance hummed, eyes pointed up to the ceiling as he considered the question. “You know, normal stuff? Make you eat gross space food and follow me around carrying my things for my like a valet. I had this whole list made up of ways to embarrass you, but now I know how boring you are when you’re Royalty they just seem mean and petty. You took the fun out of being petty with your bore-ass, Keith.”

Boring? Did Lance want Keith to be mean and humiliate him, then? Well, no, probably not, but Keith could see how this would be a disappointment on Lance’s end. He couldn’t even make a good story out of it for later, with Keith going easy on him like this.

Oh, and wasn’t that a sad thought. What good was today if they couldn’t t least make a fun story out of it? Alright, then. Keith could do this. Today, Keith would be The Princess. Not for Lance, and not for himself, but for Shiro and Allura when they came back from that diplomatic conference they were stuck in for two days and got to hear every moronic detail of what he and Lance were gonna get up to.

“Fine,” Keith practically spat, voice sharp with determination. “But remember you asked for it. I was gonna go easy on you today, Lance.”

Lance’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Probably realizing what a stupid thing he had just done by provoking Keith, judging by the look on his face.

“I order…” Keith started instinctively, before realizing he had no idea what to make Lance do. Shit, humiliating, mean, princess, he was the Princess… The first thought that came to mind was to make Lance kiss his shoe, that seemed really princess-like, but. Yeah that was also weird as hell, and probably too humiliating for both of them and not just Lance. Quick, it’s been too long since you started, say something!

“I order you to kiss my hand, peasant.” Keith settled on, holding out his wrist in an intentionally limp and pompous gesture. Fortunately, Lance’s reaction was a burst of confused laughter, one eyebrow raised indulgently as he leaned forward and took Keith’s maidenly hand in his own.

He pressed his lips against the worn knuckle of Keith’s left hand, blue eyes boring straight up into Keith’s. “As you wish, my Princess.”

Keith felt his face heat up in the blush instantly.

Oh, fuck. He was gonna have to watch what he said today, or it was Keith who was going to end up with ten embarrassing stories about him before tomorrow, and not Lance.

<3<3

Opting to play it safe, the next order Keith had was more for himself than anything else. He wanted to work off some stress and in his opinion Lance never spent enough time on the training deck, so this seemed like two birds with one stone.

Granted, he’d never tried running around with a sword while wearing a dress, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the impediment. He’d figure something out, after all.

So he set the droids on a co-op training mission, low level since Keith was in a ball gown and Lance didn’t practice as much as Keith did. They still made a good team even for all they argued, and once Keith got used to the limitations of his skirt and Lance got properly warmed up they kind of started kicking ass.

And maybe this was a little indulgent for another reason, as well. See now, Lance was a handsome young man as far as Keith was concerned, and as it happened Lance happened to look even more handsome when he was serious. He got this specific look in his eye in battle, this sharp Sniper’s Glare when something had his complete focus that was just… unf. Keith was a fan. And here side by side in a co-op battle? He had all the time in the world between sword strokes to appreciate the sight.

He also noticed of course that today Lance was staring at him an awful lot as well, but. It was hard not to be distracted by the swishing of his wine-red skirts while he jump-kicked android’s heads off. It was a pretty flashy sight.

When the battle wrapped up and they were both tired and sore, they broke for showers. It felt nice to get out of that awful dress and under the hot water for a few minutes, not even realizing how heavy the huge gown was until he’d gotten it off.

And then he was done showering and had to put it back on again, which, crap. At least this time there was someone nearby to ask for help with his zipper. His shoulder was too sore to reach all the way back there by himself right now.

“Lance,” he called over to the next room, where he knew the blue paladin was getting dressed himself. Come over here and help me with this dress.”

He didn’t realize that by giving him an order Lance would show up immediately, coming over only half-dressed and holding his own clothes to put on on the way. Which meant Keith got to see him in just his jeans, padding over on bare feet and slinging his shirt on as he walked over with an open expression. “What’s up?”

Keith showed him his back, moving his hair aside out of instinct even though it wasn’t long enough to impede the low-jacked zipper of his dress. Lance paused when he got up to Keith, one hand hovering in the air above the zipper as he hesitated.

“Lance?” he called back curiously over his shoulder, holding up the two halves of the top of his dress. “Zip me up.”

When Lance fingers touched the zipper at the bottom of Keith’s back was about the time Keith realized how very naked he felt without the dress all the way on. Like literally, Lance was literally staring down at Keith’s naked back, and he felt his face and neck heat up in a flush that only got worse when he realized there was no way Lance couldn’t see it.

Lance’s fingers brushed against the skin of his back as he grabbed the zipper, and Keith unconsciously held his breath as Lance gently tugged it up to close his dress with a quiet rustle of fabric shifting. “Gotcha,” Lance said in a voice so soft it was nearly a whisper. “All, uh… All dressed.”

“Thanks.” Embarrassed, Keith let himself rub at his sore left shoulder, not sure what to say next.

Lance decided for him, asking “Does that hurt?” And reaching out to poke at the muscle Keith had been trying to loosen.

“Mm-hm,” Keith confirmed with an absent nod, still not having turned around to face Lance until he was sure his face had cooled down.

Lance made a considering type of sound behind him, a long hum that changed pitch about three times as it dragged on. “Okay,” Lance eventually said with finality, and Keith turned around to look just in time to see him grin. “I have an idea. Since you have no idea how to be a princess, I shall take it upon myself to treat you like one.”

Keith blinked. “Huh?”

“Just for today,” Lance said, “I’m gonna pamper you like you’ve never been pampered before. Spoil you like no one has ever spoiled your sad butt in your life. Probably literally, there’s no way those hands have seen a manicure before.”

“Manicure?” Keith asked dubiously as Lance led him out of the locker rooms with one hand on his bare shoulder. “How does cutting my nails count as spoiling me?”

“Oh honey,” Lance sighed pitifully, shaking his head. “You have no idea what’s coming.”

[moczothe1st]

Let’s Play Fire Emblem IV: Genealogy of the Holy War, Part 26: The Julius Formerly Known as Prince

Part 25

Welcome back to Fire Emblem IV! Last week we had started our invasion of Grannvale, coming up to it through the southern Miletos district, and in so doing got to smack the crap out of Tinni’s crazy aunt, who unfortunately managed to get away.  These things happen.  This week, we have to start off by opening the gates that will allow us to proceed north to Miletos itself.  

I’m just gonna say, if you guys wanna stop now, I’m down for that. How about we just move in to Hilda’s old torture castle and set up there? Do we really need to beat the Empire?

Yes?

Shit.  

Ah, well.

Well, to start, we need to take Rados castle, which is thankfully unoccupied after we killed all its inhabitants last week. It’s cool, they were gross people.  Though first, I have Ced grab the village right north of it…

Behind the Times: Not so long ago, from what I hear, Emperor Arvis himself forbade ‘em. What the devil could’ve changed his mind? Please, I’m begging you, you’ve gotta save our children! Here, this magic ring oughta help you out.

Niiiiiiiiiiice. This pushes Ced’s magic above the 30-point cap, leaving him even more of a killing machine that he already is.  Dude doesn’t even have a holy weapon, he’s just raw badass. Cairpre also continues his path to minor godhood.  

This kid was level one on the last map, and he’s going to be promoted and breaking skulls right along with the rest of the kids next map. I’m so proud of him.  

Seliph, take the castle and set the story going, my man!

(Yeah, but he had to be a man named Morrigan, so who really suffered the most?)

Seliph: How could they… how could anyone be so savage…?

Lewyn: And that’s why we’ve got to fight this war to the end, Seliph. This is something you’ve got to understand.

(OKAY WE GET IT JEEZ STOP PESTERING ME DAD)

Lewyn: This is the way of the Loptyr Empire. There’s no place at all for the good-hearted… Now, it shouldn’t be too long before the gate to Miletos opens for us.  

(…. Why…?)

Lewyn: What’s your next move, Seliph?

Seliph: Needless to say, we must march on Miletos. We can’t afford to rest while those children are still at risk. Or Julia, for that matter.

Lewyn: Good. And after that, Grannvale awaits!

(OH FUCK IT’S ISHTAR)

(Oh, and also Arvis. Man, you have not aged well, buddy. I’d feel bad for you, but you know… the rape and murder and stuff.)

Arvis: Listen, Ishtar. Release the captive children.  I know you care no more for these foul deeds than I do.

Ishtar: My apologies, sir, but I’m on Prince Julius’s-

Arvis: Pay Julius no mind. I’ll be having a word with him soon.

(Funny story, bro, he said the same thing about you last week, and I’m a bit more scared of him at this point.)

Ishtar: But…

Arvis: This is an order from your emperor, Ishtar! Has Julius bent you such that you will no longer listen to the word of your liege?!

Ishtar: N-no. Never, your majesty…

(Speak of the [Literal?] Devil.)

Arvis: Julius! How dare you-

Julius: Why, Father, it almost sounds as if you still don’t know any better! Old age must be dulling that once-brilliant mind of yours. Why not retire before it grows still feebler? Unless… ohohohoho! Don’t tell me you still seriously believe that you can banish me?

Arvis:  … No. I know better than to try something so futile again. I… have no further objection.

Julius: That’s better. Now, then. Begone! Return to your post and haunt my sight no more. Defending Chalphy is crucial, so don’t fail me for once in your sorry life, Father.  

(Daaaaaaaaaaaamn, son, you just got burned.  Or should that be Julienned?)

Arvis: Y-yes, Julius. At once…

(God, it’s like every creeper left in the game is all gathering in this one castle to see who can be most sleazy. If Hilda shows up, I’m going to need to stop to take a shower.)

Manfroy: Never would you think this wretch, now clinging only to the ghost of a crown, was once the most powerful man in Jugdral.  

Julius: Ah, Manfroy. Where’s Julia? Have you restored her memory yet?

Manfroy: Your dear little sister is in Chalphy, burdened once more by her old memories. Never have I seen such horror as when she recalled how you, her own brother, almost killed her! Or how her dearly departed mother spirited her clear of the castle and your clutches…

Julius: Indeed… near everyone puts up some defiance to death by my hand, yet Deirdre never so much as flinched in the end. She accepted her own demise, all to save Julia with what little strength she still had.  But Julia possesses the foul powers of that ghoul, Naga, just as Deirdre once did. Nothing is more crucial than killing her now, Manfroy, lest we lose the chance.

(………. Then… why did you need to restore her memories…?)

Manfroy: You overestimate her threat, milord. After all, the Book of Naga remains under the strictest lock and key in Belhalla. Without it, Naga’s soul could never come to dwell within that girl…

Julius: How many times must I explain, Manfroy?! Every last one of the avatars of Naga, the heirs of Heim, must be purged!

Manfroy: Understood, milord. I’ll have my men see to it that Julia is dead by sundown.

Julius: Do not fail me, Manfroy. Now, then, I suppose I’m needed in the capital.

Manfroy: I shall ensure that holding the Miletos territory is the Order’s highest priority. Before the week is done, Your Majesty, the corpse of Seliph shall lie before you.

Julius: Seliph? … Ah, of course. The one the peasants call ‘the scion of light’.  Just as they call me the ‘scion of darkness’.  The alleged eldest son of Deirdre and the alleged true heir to my throne. A fairy tale, told to inspire hope amongst fools.

Manfroy: He is still a threat, milord. The sooner we dispose of him, the better.                      

Julius: Surely he doesn’t truly bear the power of the Crusader Baldur. He couldn’t possibly. I don’t care about him, Manfroy, but you’re welcome to do with him as you will.  

Manfroy: Very good, milord.

Julius: … Actually, I have a better idea. I want to play a game.  

Julius: Rumor has it that a small army of fresh sacrifices are headed our way. Let’s see who can claim the life of a rebel first.

Ishtar: Yes, Lord Julius. I’d love to!

(Sympathetic anti-villain~)

And then the newly arrived enemies start screwing with me, thus ruining the drama of the moment. Anyhow. The army arrayed against us is arguably the worst in the entire game thus far, given they are almost all dark mages. Dark magic still has no disadvantages to anything in the weapon triangle, and a lot of them have status effect staves to fuck our advance over hard. And of course, standing near the castle…

At first glance, Ishtar actually looks worse than Obvious Final Boss Julius. She’s bulked up considerably since we last met her; her Magic has gone up by six points, speed by one, and resistance by a whopping twelve with the addition of a Barrier Ring to her inventory.  He, in contrast, has generally good stats at everything (and is a damn stone wall with 25 defense and 35 resistance) but he’s slower than her and his Loptyr tome is heavier than her Mjolnir.  Beyond being a stone wall, he appears to be less dangerous than her.

This is a filthy lie.

You see, Ishtar is stronger than her last fight with us, but we’ve leveled up far more than she has since then. She’s certainly still very dangerous thanks to her combo of Mjolnir and the Vantage ability meaning if you don’t kill her in one shot she’ll wreck your ass on all further battles, but that’s nothing new. It just means we’re playing the same damn game of Nuclear Rocket Tag that we were last time, and Arthur is carrying a much bigger nuke than before. Maybe he still only has like a 60% chance of pulling it off, but I honestly can’t believe I did it at all last time.  

And as for that heavy Loptyr tome? It has a little extra trick to it that you’ll quickly come to despise.  

See that little note, ‘cuts foe’s atk’ down in the bottom left corner? See, more specifically, it cuts the attack of anyone who gets into battle with Julius by a whopping 50%. So before hitting Julius’s again, stone-wall defenses, anyone who takes a swing at him will first have their attack cut in half, at which point he will swing right back with a Holy Weapon that has no weapon triangle disadvantage to anything and is backed up by his maxed out magic stat.  And in his ability list, he has Pursuit and Accost for maximum possible double-attacking potential to go with his very high natural speed, and Wrath to cause his critical hit rate to skyrocket if you do eventually get his HP down below half.  

His 80 HP.  

So yeah, this is the game’s subtle way of telling you ‘DON’T FIGHT JULIUS’. Indeed, the easiest thing to do here would be to let him or Ishtar kill one of our soldiers and then have Cairpre revive them with the Valkyria staff, because they will both leave if one of them manages to win their ‘game.’  Which, I mean, if I get really desperate, maybe, but for the sake of my pride I’d prefer to beat one of them, causing both to retreat. And by ‘one of them,’ I mean Ishtar. And by ‘beat’ I mean, ‘Arthur, it’s time to play another round of Holy Weapon Nuclear Death Tag with your cousin, please try to survive.’  

Oh, and just for fun:

That’s Julius’s Holy Blood screen. Just in case you didn’t have enough unhappiness in your life.

Now then. First thing we need to do is clear out at least some of the enemies in play here. There’s a whole mess of Dark Mages with some melee fighters scattered among them, and they’re operating with a variety of tools, but the worst, as poor Altena found out, are the ones with Sleep staves. Status effect staves in this game are the worst; they have perfect accuracy as long as the one using them has higher Magic than the target has Resistance. In our hands, they’re balanced by only having 2-3 charges before they break. In the enemy’s hands, they have infinite charges because Fuck You, that’s why. Sleep + Hel + Any Hit of Anything is a very bad situation.  So first step is to work out where they are:

There, we have a basic cross-reference of where only high-resistance units should go. The dark mages have 16 Magic each, which isn’t much for the purposes of combat but for the purposes of Sleep Staves it might as well be a trillion. Maybe a quarter of our army can go into that crossfire zone without being zapped, and one of them is Cairpre, who can’t fight. On the other hand, he’s also the only person who can wake people up, so his staying awake forever is useful, in its own way.

Back to full power! And now, we clear out the vanguard and move the team up, making sure to keep most people firmly to the east.  

There we go. First wave down; the only people in the current batch who can lure out enemies without getting a forced nap are Ares, Fee, Ced, Tinni and Cairpre; Seliph will be able to when he actually reaches the army, but he, Nanna, and Ulster are a bit further back. He had to take the castle and they needed to do some weapon repairs.

End turn!

Ah, yes, some of them have siege tomes too. Because, again, fuck you, that’s why.

Cairpre, you’re just getting silly.  But in any event, we’ve now gotten a situation where the only people in the Sleep range are people who cannot be Sleeped, and they should also be drawing in some of the enemies from the west so we can clear out at least one or two of the staff wielders and give us some more movement range. There’s two to the west, and two to the north; the western ones should start moving on this turn now that we’ve cleared out the enemies closer to us. With luck, I can kill them both right away. End turn…

Okay, not bad. With the positioning of the enemies, I thiiiiiiiiink three of the sleep staffs can be taken out this turn without much issue.  Let’s see…

That’s one!

And that’s two, and also all we’re going to get. But the remaining two are going to put some people to sleep, but they won’t be able to get anyone killed.  That’s worth Ares getting a shit level, I guess. What remains is to clear out the final village-burning bandit of the map…

And killing off this sniper so he can’t kill Fee and ruin everything.

Good times. All right, dark mages! Please don’t kill anyone. End turn.

Lame, but tolerable. We will be able to kill one more staff guy this turn; but the second one is being… troublesome.  

He’s one of those charming robed figures firmly in Julius’s combat range. That is not a fight I want to pick.  Instead, we’ll take this other dude with the physic staff…

And pull back, trying to lure them out further. Cairpre wakes up Lester to let him do the same, and gets his like seventieth level.

To the south, we need to clear a path without letting Patty get put to sleep preferably. So I have Tinni try to clear a path, which will let Ced get through to the third Sleep user.

….

She misses. On a 90% chance. Dammit. Seliph, please?

That’s why we’re putting you on the throne later, buddy.  And now Ced can get through and remove one more stumbling block.

Beautiful. Only one staff jackass left, and the only people in his range are Tinni and Seliph.  He’ll have to move, and with any luck at all he’ll do so out of Julius’s combat range where someone can take a swing at his dumb face. End turn!

Heeeeeeeeeey buuuuuuuddy.

Niiiiice. With that, there’s only seven enemies left total; one guy with a normal tome, three siege tomes, the boss in the castle, and the two far more dangerous bosses waiting for us to get all up in their business. This will be… tricky. But for the moment, we’re safe, so I have Seliph drop in to have a conversation with Tinni.

(In all this mess, you may have forgotten Lewyn is her dad. He certainly hasn’t been very fatherly.)

Seliph: If you need anything from me, I’ll be waiting over there.

(You see what I mean about her having a character arc, now? Imagine the Tinni we first recruited saying that. She was so broken down she was going to fight us just because she was too afraid not to. And look at her now, electrocuting her aunt! I’m so proud.)

Lewyn: She didn’t treat you well, did she?

(“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA…. Oh, you’re serious…? Wow. No. No.”)

Tinni: Day after day, again and again, she would beat and abuse us. She kept on accusing Mother of being a traitor…

Lewyn: Your mother… Taillte…

Tinni: Yes… after the Battle of Belhalla, she and my brother, Arthur, fled to Silesse. I was born there soon after. I never knew my father. I think he must have died long ago…

Lewyn: I see. Then you went to Alster, right?

Tinni: King Blume and his minions came to Silesse, one night. They dragged us away to Alster… Mother never left there alive…

Lewyn: I… you’ve had such a hard life…

Tinni: Mm… Hilda hated Mother so much. I’ve never seen anything like it. Mother coped with so much, trying to protect me from Hilda. She was always in tears, right till the end…

Lewyn: She… she did…?

Tinni: Lord Lewyn? Is… is everything okay, sir?

Lewyn: … Yeah. Why do you ask?

Tinni: It’s your eyes, sir. Are those… tears?

Lewyn: I… no, it’s nothing. This is just a bit of sweat. I’m fine… I… I’m okay…

I like this conversation for a few reasons. First, it gives Tinni a ridiculous +5 magic, which is wonderful for these conversation bonuses and pushes her to her magic cap of 27. But on a story front, you’ve probably noticed that Lewyn has become kind of a douche in the years since the first generation.  This is one of the very few moments where that attitude breaks and he really shows you just how much he’s hurting beneath it all. He manages to hold up the Jerk Attitude for most of his other daughter conversations (he can have one with Fee, Lene, or Tinni if he’s their dad) but this is the only one he breaks down on. Learning your wife was essentially tortured to death will do that, and it probably only hurts more because Tinni isn’t trying to guilt him over it. Just innocently sharing how awful her life has been.

It’s a good, solid, quiet little character moment. I really like those when they’re done well, and I think this one was.

End turn.

Way to kill the emotion, jerk.

After murdering that buzzkill, I have to consider the situation.  Ishtar is by far the weaker of the two enemies, but she’s not weak by any means. And unfortunately, anywhere that she can go, Julius can go too, thanks to the Leg Ring in his inventory. Getting them separate is hard.  So what I’m going to do is have Ares, with the Mystletainn in hand, stand on a forest tile in Julius’s range. I will also put Nanna, Seliph, and Dermott near him; with boosts from two Charisma skills, Seliph’s leadership stars, and a forest, he gets something like a 45% boost to his dodging, which even Julius should have some trouble with. And even if he takes one hit, his Resistance is high enough that he should be able to survive.  And from there, I have all of them run past him with Arthur, giving him a similar bonus to his offense and offsetting Julius’s own five leadership stars when he fights Ishtar. With luck, which I seem to be having lately with these big annoying bosses, Arthur will nuke the crap out of his cousin once again.

This might work. Maybe! Or I might die. End turn!

Gotta admit, the man makes an impression! Ares takes the hit, but survives with 21 HP left, and Ishtar runs up behind Julius, but can’t reach anyone to blast. But we can reach her.  Deep breath. Moment of truth.  Everyone, get her! NUCLEAR ROCKET TAG GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I’m hoping you don’t notice how many of my problems I have been solving with Forseti.  Like… all of them. Seriously, of the three hardest bosses in the game so far, Ishtar, Arion, and Ishtar again, Arthur has killed all three of them on his first move, doing the exact same thing.  I have dealt with every serious challenge the game has to offer by nuking it with a wind god.  

If this is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.  

Oh, and hey, why not.

This kid is going places. 

Now then, not much left on the map to deal with.  I have Lene dance Cairpre, so he can grab one of the two remaining villages.  

Captain… Nay, GENERAL Obvious: Just a single glance into those eyes of his and you’re gone. You lose yourself. So many of my friends and people my age have all left for Belhalla to serve him… I’ve heard nothing from any of ‘em since.

Oh-ho.  So, does this mean Julius can literally warp the minds of others? It can’t be limitless, mind you, since otherwise he could just mind-rape our army into joining him, but some ability to sway the weak-minded to his side would fit with how so few Imperial citizens are actually protesting the whole… you know. Hunting of children.

On the enemy phase, there isn’t a whole lot left. We have only three enemies left outside the boss, and they’re all carrying siege tomes.

And hahaha, they’re not super great at picking targets. That was fun.  Now, let’s destroy them!

Not bad at all! One guy remaining, we can get him on the next turn before Seliph takes that castle. Altena grabs the last village, as well.

Extremely Morbid Info Master: Hate t’say it, but sometimes, yeh need t’make sacrifices if yeh wanna keep going…

See, kids, this is why you don’t fuck with Info Master. He is willing to make those sacrifices.  End turn!

Dick.

… They can’t all be great, Cairpre. You’ve still grown far beyond anything I ever expected. Now, nothing left to do but send the team up north, preparing to go where the story will dictate after we take the next castle. Seliph, care to set things up?

Lewyn: I hate to admit it, but I doubt we could’ve gotten here soon enough either way. Now, then. It sounds like they’re just finishing up repairs on the Miletos Strait bridge. Ready to move in on Chalphy?

Seliph: Chalphy…. My father’s homeland….

Lewyn: So it is. I’m betting the citizens there will be even happier to see you than usual.  Let’s not make them wait any longer!

Seliph: Indeed! Everyone, move out! Onward, to Chalphy!  

(“We’re not forgetting anything, right? Eh, I’m sure Julia would remind us if we were.”)  

Well. There isn’t a whole lot of this chapter left, but it can take quite a bit of time to successfully pull off, so I do think I’ll stop here. See y’all next week when we head back home to Chalphy! The very first castle we ever had in the game, and now we get to go take it back from another blast to the past, good old Arvis! I sure did miss him.

But my aim is improving.  

See y’all next week!  

[chaosmagetwin]

Character Redesign: Ashley The Half-Demon

From The Wild Adventures of Ashley and Paul (AKA ...TWAAP?)

Though TWAAP is over (because I’m kind of done trying to figure out how that all works, go figure), I still had Ashley’s design running around in my head, trying to find a story. Over the incredibly long period of time that it’s been since I’ve written her design out originally, her design has changed a little, and the story she resides in will no longer be a crazy meta-verse in which authoritarian authors (heh) rule the lives of ‘characters’. What kind of story will she be in? I’m not sure yet. 

Name: Ashley Abandon

Nicknames: The Discarded Demon, Ash

Gender: Female

Physical Description

Despite standing at the height of 5′5″, Ashley cuts an imposing figure with a noble’s posture and an expression of stone, and a habit of clutching her hands behind her. Her large, round eyes were unfocused with dark circles underneath them, as though staring at some distant thing not seen by others, and yet they were likely the most visually striking thing about her with charcoal sclera, red and gold irides, and the slit pupils of a cat. Her hair was cut close, no longer than an inch, the black curls barely able to form before shears cut them down. Sprouting from within the hair came two ram’s horns, curling back as though to outline her head, the tips ending at the same level as her chin, the tips filed down to a dull point. Three holes were drilled into each of the horns near the tips, close enough that the copper rings that hung from them could touch each other and jingle when she moved. She has a heart shaped face that was built delicately, with a sharp chin and a twice broken nose. Her lips were thin and dry, and if she were to ever smile one would immediately notice it was a shark’s smile, almost literally. Two rows of razor sharp teeth filled her mouth, but they weren’t over-large; rather, each serrated tooth was a little smaller than normal, and lasted about a year before dropping out on their own. Both rows were straight, and each pair of teeth took up no more space than a molar. Scars littered her face of all types, from a straight blade scar that cut directly across her left cheek to a ripped scar on her nose where it had broken, as well as three different scars on her lips from being split open either in a fight or a beating, a literal notch cut from her nose tip, and a thin ring around her neck caused by long term irritation.

Ashley was fit, but it was obvious she was underfed; her muscles barely had a layer of fat around them, putting her muscles in stark relief when shown. They were the long, corded muscles of a runner, with thick thigh muscles; in addition, her back muscles were strangely developed, as were her arms, and those with the eyes for it would recognize a swords-woman. She lacked the traditional features of femininity; indeed, most who saw her would call her,at best, ugly, or ‘mannish’, citing her lack of curves and the abundance of muscles for it. Such people would come to regret that. At worst, they called her a demon, or horrifying, and in many ways that bothered her less; it was easier to ignore the ones who believed her to be a soldier of hell.

Ashley tended to wear the heavy clothes of those common to the north, though she was forced to make accommodations for her horns in hats and hoods. Hoods, in fact, were impossible to work with unless she put them on first, and hats had to be separated into two pieces or be unbelievably stretchy. Often, the easier course was to simply wrap her head like those from southern deserts, which is what she currently had, though, instead of being one solid piece wrapping around, it was several made of rags. She tended to wear pants and simple tunics, with layered quilted tunics and fur-lined coats in the winter to keep her warm. Each layer showed long use, with holes worn through in several places. Her leather walking boots, though made well, also showed wear and tear, with thin bottoms and frayed sewing barely holding it together. Her gloves were the only new piece of clothing that she had; kid leather gloves that came up to her mid-forearm, embroidered with silver thread with a floral pattern. They were obviously well cared for, and oiled frequently to keep them soft.

The only other thing she had that was taken care of as well as her gloves was likely the only item of value she had too; a sword, wrapped in cloth, only the hilt visible. Poorly done stitching kept the cloth around the sword, but it was clear just from the hilt alone that the sword was a straight-forward piece, with no ornamentation what-so-ever and a cross guard of steel. And yet, the sword was well-kept. Those with the eyes for it would notice that it was a high quality piece, completely solid. It wasn’t made by an apprentice at forge that mass-produced weapons for the army, it likely made by a master, by special order. 

History

There are few people in the world who could claim lineage to that of a demon-prince. There are fewer still who would proclaim it proudly. Fewer still would proudly proclaim it in an era of strife, civil war, and famine. Ashley’s mother was one of those few. Perhaps even the only one. 

She wasn’t exactly known for her intelligence.

Still, she wasn’t one to hide who she was, even when things had gone to shit, and she knew how to protect herself. Deina was a warrior, through and through, happy to bash in heads and make a name for herself. From the time that she was a little girl to the time that she died after being stabbed in the back, she proudly held her head high. At the age of fifteen, she joined the army of Su’Darican, a warlord with ambition for the throne, and quickly rose through the ranks as a capable fighter, though not a leader. She lead the charge when she could, and joined the vanguard, a halberd her weapon of choice, unnatural strength letting her smash through a shield wall like it was paper. She loved the thrill of the fight, and more than once she was the leading reason why Su’Darican was able to win a few battles. But he was on the losing side of a war against the King, and it was fairly obvious to anyone with sense. Those with honor stayed to fight with him to the bitter end. Those with a little more sense of ‘adventure’ decided the best coarse would be to switch sides. 

Deina was one of them. After all, death was not in her plans. The king, wary of a powerful part-demon, sent her on mission after mission against his enemies, hoping to simply keep her busy. Naturally, she would be sent with others to increase the chances of success, though they would be under secret orders to let her die if she got into trouble.

It was during these missions that she grew closer to one of the men in the unit. Several, in fact. Deina was a handsome woman, not to mention skilled, which made her rather attractive to a number of people in the unit. Unfortunately for any who wanted a true relationship, Deina was also not very faithful, and when she eventually became pregnant with her escapades, it would be impossible to know who the father was. She was forced to retire, and her time in the army was over. Those in command who knew her also knew she would find trouble herself, and potentially even join brigands if left to her own devices, even if pregnant. Taking her choice away, they put her under house arrest in the capital.

Perhaps it was her demonic ancestry, or perhaps it was her choices being taken away from her, but Deina found the act of raising Ashley repulsive. Forced into it nevertheless, she resented her daughter for taking her away from the action and relegating her to the role of caretaker instead of soldier. 

The very people who had placed her into this situation would not learn how much of a grave mistake this was until several years later, though at the time they were dealing with a set of problems completely unrelated to Deina and Ashley. A rebellion had formed around the cousin of the king, and the country was plunged into a civil war by the time Ashley had turned five. It was not some quiet peasants rebellion, squashed by the local army. It was an out and out war that split the country evenly in half, one that would rage on for over five years, one that would continue despite the edges being taken by the surrounding countries. It was the war, later historians would write, that destroyed the country entirely, and destabilized the entirety of the region for years to come as other countries took what land they wanted, and brigands spread from it like locusts in an attempt to survive. 

Deina, from the start, wanted to join the army again. Ashley was five, she didn’t need her anymore, she stated desperately to the officers. They refused, and Deina would sink into a deep depression, one she would ultimately lay the blame of upon Ashley. What had once been simple emotional neglect turned into searing abuse and a dive into alcoholism. 

Ashley would eventually get her revenge at the age of ten, as the armies gathered to lay siege upon the capital. No less than four different armies waited for the others to blink, but it would be the capital that suffered for it. As Deina prepared herself for the first battle in ten years, Ashley would stab her in the back, fearing that her mother would simply kill her on the way to the battle. In many ways, Ashley thought it a miracle that her mother hadn’t killed her when she was younger. 

She escaped into the sewers, but rather than attempt to leave the city, she simply waited; she knew that soldiers were waiting in the fields. It would be nearly ten days of hiding, eating rats, and the occasional murder of soldiers who came to close to her in the tunnels before the battle for the capital was over, now under the control of the largest army from the country of Arteris. The losers of the battle (her now nameless country, the country of iidreen, and the country of Reajon) were either wiped out entirely, or simply went home to nurse their wounds. Those who survived this final battle within the city were enslaved or executed. Special attention was paid to the nobility of the now destroyed country whose name was stricken from the records, and made slaves in the lowest of positions within Arteris. Many would die from overwork and cruel masters, usually peasants or merchants.

Ashley believed she could escape once the battle was over, but, unfortunately, she was wrong. Arterian soldiers waited for her, and many others who thought they would escape through the sewers. She was put in irons, and would face the next ten years as a slave. 

[survivorarabia]

EPISODE 9 “"Welcome to Survivor: Arabia Where Everyone's Super Paranoid" - Ruthie

Ruthie

I take back every negative thing I've said about Emmott, Aren and Issy I AM LIVING!  OH MY GOD, BYE JAY!  I AM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW I AM ABOUT TO PEE MY PANTS, MY FOUR ARE SAFE AND I'VE NEVER FELT SO GOOD AND NICOLE WILL BE BACK SOON AND THIS IS THE FUCKING LIFE RIGHT HERE! <3 

Ci’ere

“Lord. Jesus. Hallelujah. So, Jay and I were blindsided last tribal council and for a second there I thought I was actually being voted out. It ended up tying between us and everyone was telling me that I wasn’t the target. Aren, Emmott and Issy decided to flip because Jay was too much of a threat to them apparently. No one informed me about this plan and I even told Aren earlier that I would have done it, but it was too soon to make that move. All it did was give the other side power and puts us 4 in the minority, that is unless they already made deals with old Khiana. I may be at the bottom but I still have a lot of fight left in me and I’m going to do everything in my power to make it through this round. I told them all that I’m playing as a free agent now because obviously no one has my back.”

Richie

IM NEVER LISTENING TO MY SUPEREGO AGAIN!!!!! the plan was that issy/emmott/aren were voting for jay and then alex/lena/ruthie wanted to vote for ciere just in case one of them were lying and the inner me was like GO ROGUE VOTE FOR JAY BE A MESSY BITCH TAKE THIS SHOT AT JAY!!!!!!!! but then i was like hm.... maybe i should be a good alliance member bc even if my gut is right i dont want my alliance to realize how crazy i am because they might want to take me out for being unreliable (which would be smart bc im fucking CRACKED but i dont want them to know how cracked just yet) so i was like fiiiiiine i'll vote ciere BUT THEN JAY GETS RID OF ALEX'S VOTE AND ITS A 3-3 TIE AND IF I HAD JUST VOTED FOR JAY LIKE MY INNER BITCH WANTED TO I WOULDNT HAVE TO BACKTRACK AND EXPLAIN TO ISSY/EMMOTT/AREN WHY I DIDNT VOTE FOR JAY LIKE I SAID I WOULD AND JAY WOULD BE GONE WITHOUT THE REVOTE UGHHHHHHH.......... literally when will the world realize that im always right and stop making me doubt my true powers???? 

Jay

I'm fucked.

Ci’ere

“Oh and if you’re reading this Lena, I’m sorry about what I said for your vote asdfghjkl; I honestly don’t think you’re of use to my game though and that is the reason why I was okay with voting you out. Plus, I’m kind of jelly you got Kelley Wentworth as your icon. :<”

Alex

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING

JAY'S VOTE NULLIFER IS GONNA TAKE HIM OUT OF THE GAME

AHAHAHAHAH THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY OF MY ENTIRE LIFE

I CAN'T STOP BREAKING INTO SONG, I'M FILLED WITH SUCH GLEE

That plan worked....perfectly.  And yes, Richie gets to “I told you so!” me forever, but, like, fine.  I'll take that!  Because Jay's gonna be the second juror, and for the first time in this game, I feel comfortable in my position oh gods I'm going out next aren't I

Julia

DONT YOU DARE TOUCH MY JAY YOU FUCKERS HE IS MENT TO AVENGE ME!! AND CIERE TOO1?!?! MAN MAN OH MAN   SLAY THE BEAST SLAY THE BEAST!!!!

Ci’ere

“I feel absolutely alone, as if it’s truly Ci’ere against the world right now. I have tried talking to everyone, but they’re not giving me anything to work with and I feel like I’m still the target. I flopped very hard in the challenge and I’m basically just a sitting duck at this point. I’m not really sure what to say anymore because whenever I try speaking they subtly shut me down. Why wouldn’t you use me, someone with no allies, to make a big move? Alex lost the challenge so why isn’t he being targeted? I’m going to try to get them to make a move. They’re all having a holly jolly time and I’m a snake ready to slither my way through the cracks. I’m not going to give up.”

Alex

Aren

MWAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA! PISS OFF JAY!!! AND THE BEAUTY OF THAT TRIBAL? I WAS THE PERSON THAT ORCHESTRATED THAT WHOLE BOOT! IT WAS ALL ME! THE REASON JAY'S ASS IS SITTING IN PONDY AND MY BOOTY IS STILL IN THIS GAME IS BECAUSE I'M A SMART-BOOTY AND HE'S A DUMB-ASS. LOL K, so, the world's my oyster now -- I'm in the majority, we're gonna send Ci'ere ass home next, then I'm gonna try to make a move on big boi Alex from there. I'm really enjoying this game that I'm playing. I'm going completely CHAOTIC, and I'm lovin' it. I'm just doing whatever the fuck I want, no matter how self-destructive my moves might appear. I'm not here to play the best game (although I am doing that too), I'm just here to reek havoc on these sons-of-bitches that I'm playing with and to shake this bitch of a game up to a whole new level, like a milkshake! Now it's time to dominate immunity and get this done with. 

Ruthie

So, today was an interesting day.  It started the same way most days do out here on the Island, and okay, just let me get to everything.  Alex and I talk everyday, we get each other and I trust him as much as I can trust anyone and I really think he trusts me that way too.  In Survivor World we're pretty much married, his thoughts are my thoughts and visa versa.  This morning I didn't start out with a "Hey, Good morning!" Or anything even remotely polite, instead I started out with... "This is going to sound super bitchy and may not be the best move with Richie/Lena but I definitely want to take you if I win [the step immunity challenge] and my second will be Nicole since she used an idol on me. I have no idea how many we get to take though.  Is that completely dumb?"   Then Alex stated in reply.  "I was actually gonna suggest exactly the opposite, I would rather you NOT take me and vice versa. If I get the clue I'll tell you & vice versa so I'd rather we try & win points with the people we trust a bit less, personally. Nicole is a fine choice though, I agree with that." That sparked a little something in my brain.  I really want to get to the end with Nicole and Alex but I'm not sure how much they actually trust one another, so then my brain had an excellent thought and of course, I told Alex.  "THAT IS PERFECT! I may try to take Nicole/Lena and tell them one on one I want an all girls alliance or something." I could tell that he thought this was a good idea.  It distanced us and would keep us both safe for weeks to come.  His exact reply was, "Fuckin' do it girl."  He also had some eggs to cook today in the form of Richie and whoever else, I honestly have no idea who he's going to talk to or form something with but I know he has me and I got him!   As the day went on I went about my business but then decided, hey, maybe I should go ahead and try to get something cooking BEFORE we get the results in the event that I win, then I can take Nicole and Lena if I get to take 2 or more people with me on reward.  So I decided to send a message to Lena, probably the sweetest person on the entire tribe.  "Leeeeena, I kind of have an idea and please tell me if it's dumb or whatever, I've been thinking about it and I want your opinion on it." Lena replied a few moments later saying, "Hey! What's going on?" Then I launched into my story about wanting to start a side alliance with her and Nicole and maybe Issy and I admit, I felt nervous that she was going to go back to Richie and Alex and tell them something but THANKFULLY she did not.  She was totally down because she thought that Nicole seemed super loyal.  I asked if she wanted to include Issy and she wasn't sure, so I agreed that it probably wasn't our best move right now and that I trusted the two of them way more than I did Issy... which I do.   Then I went to Nicole and she was so up for it so fast and agreed although I think she was in the middle of her Immunity Challenge, so whew, I feel so accomplished today.  Anyway, I told Alex about my new alliance and I think that this is a GREAT move for the two of us as we try to dwindle down everyone else. <3 He also told Aren that he doesn't want to go to the end with me, so we'll see when or if Aren tells me anything... dun dun dunnnnnn.  I once again LOVE where I'm sitting! 

Ci’ere

“I literally ask the OG Fawz alliance if we can stick together for this vote because there have been glimmers of hope throughout the day and maybe we can pull something off. Apparently Richie was on the verge of wanting to flip, Alex and Ruthie want each other out, and Emmott mentions Nicole doesn’t hate me lol. Issy was the only person to actually talk to me today and she disagreed with the Jay move that Aren and Emmott pulled. She kept it real with me and said that it seemed like no one wanted to make a move and I definitely respect her for telling me this. Ruthie and Nicole tell me they’re gonna vote for Issy and while I don’t think they’re telling the truth, I don’t have very many options so I’m just gonna go with that.”

Lena

so.... i got the idol..... I'm shaking. I cannot believe this. I haven't told anyone yet and I'm REALLY nervous to. I want to tell my alliance of Ruthie, Richie, and Alex but.. I'm really nervous to do that. That's like half of the people who are still in the game. I'm not going against them any time soon but.. I just don't know right now. I'm really glad I found it though. and obviously I'm really glad I got immunity and reward this time too

Aren

Y'know what I'm really, really bloody enjoying? The view. The picturesque, almost artistic viewpoint from the top of my palace as I watch all of my pathetic tribemates battle it out like peasants after the aftermath of my big move on Jay last vote... It's quite wonderful, really. It just proves how much these people are maggots whilst I'm sitting here like total royalty.

This vote can really go one of two ways. It can either go the easy, obvious way -- and Ci'ere can be sent home. Or, we can take a more unconventional route to this tribal-council and make an effort to blindside Alex instead. It's ultimately looking like Ci'ere, but... Mmm, I truly am craving that Alex blindside like he's a big, fat, tasty, tender slice of thick medium-rare steak. (I'm hungry right now, alright?)

Ruthie

I may deeply regret these when the episodes come out... bahahah.  Especially filming these with no make up and my hair looking like I'm really living on an Island.  Things are seeming quiet on and off for Arabia, I kind of wonder what's going on with everyone.  I know we have some people sleeping but still, I don't like when I don't know what is happening!  

Shouldn't Emmott know by now that Alex and I are solid and we tell one another everything? Maybe it's a good thing that he doesn't know and that we are trying to distance ourselves a bit, who knows. Anyway, Emmott showed me a screenshot of Alex agreeing with him that I was good at this game and just, how is that going to make me want Alex out?  Alex warned me what he was telling Emmott before hand, and it doesn't surprise me that Emmott is weaseling around, playing every side.  I've told him before I think he plays a good game that way and I really do, but everyone is cautious of him.  

I just don't get good vibes from Aren, I don't at ALL.  I think he's a little sneak that is going to win this entire game if he gets far enough.  I do like him as a person but I just don't trust him at all but if Alex thinks they are solid then...  whatever.  I think our best bet is going to be pulling Ci'ere in and maybe putting up Emmott/Issy tonight but literally no one has been on and who even KNOWS what's going to happen tonight. I just hope that Alex, Nicole and I are safe so I can somehow manage to make it to final 3 if the other two don't try to take one another out of the game first! 

Aren

OHMYGOD AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS VOTE IS SO CHAOTIC AAA PLEASE HELP ME I'M ABOUT TO F A I N T SO LIKE ALEX's NAME CAME UP THEN RUTHIE'S THEN CI'ERE THEN ALEX WAS LIKE YO WE SHOULD SPLIT THE VOTES ON CI'ERE & ISSY THEN ISSY STARTED FREAKING OUT AND SLAPPING ON MY ASS FOR TAKING JAYO UT AND NOW IM CRYING A LOT WAHHH WAHH WAH 

Ruthie

LENA AND NICOLE WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS SO YOU CAN AGREE TO VOTE ISSY WITH ME? If they don't show up for some reason we will probably all vote for Emmott real quick instead because who would play an idol on him?  LOL.  Watch someone play the idol on him now and me be voted out, but yeah.  I'm nervous tonight, not for myself so much, but for Alex. I'm going to work on my speech again. <3 

Alex

WHEW, so much has happened since we last spoke, where to begin Lena won Immunity, so that's great.  She took Nicole and Ruthie, just as planned, and we got the Idol clue – no Idol, anywhere.  We tried, nothing.  Ugh.  So we have to assume Issy or Ci'ere has it. So then, the vote discussion has to happen.  Initially Aren is the only one to throw a name out, saying we should take out Ci'ere.  I suspect this is because he has something going with Issy & Emmott, but whatever, I'll humor him, we'll see what people are doing. THEN I get word that Emmott, spastic little shit, is throwing MY name around, so we're gonna need to fix that.  But.......nobody's biting.  Weirdly so.  Odd, but okay.  If I can't get him out this time, at least I know where he stands. Plus, we engage in my favorite game of “bait people into giving up incriminating information,” using my usual mouthpiece, Ruthie.  She plays along with Emmott, then goes to Aren and has a realtalk about if it's the right move for now.  Luckily, Aren agrees it's not the right move THIS round without her even having to prompt him, so that's good.  Of course, he's also not told me Ruthie “is after me,” so, hmm.  But still, I trust him for this vote. Eventually we decide to split the votes 4-3, guys on Ci'ere, girls on Issy, so if she plays the Idol on Ci'ere, Issy goes home and we lol at two reward items taking out two players consecutively. But this is really the round where seeds of doubt are starting to take hold.  Lena is agreed that Richie can't be trusted; Richie is starting to show signs of wavering against Ruthie, which is exactly what I want!  I don't want this Family to be the final 4, but I also don't want to be the first one to make the move.  So this is perfect for me.  I'm taking out people I'm not close to, I'm starting to fracture the alliance without overtly being the one to do it, it's flawless. And, on top of that, Lena has the Idol after all!  That's fantastic, so we're maneuvering the vote to land on Ci'ere anyway.  Unless there's two Idols, we should be in the clear tonight, and then the sailing gets way smoother for Alex. Anyway I'm about to get voted out cause I just said all that, EL OH ELL!

Lena

I decided to tell Ruthie and Alex about the idol. I decided to not include Richie in on the news so far because he seems to be slipping away from us.. The old farts (myself, Ruthie, and Alex) are even tighter than before. But I also have this alliance going with Ruthie and Nicole and I'm really liking it with them too. So I have options. Alex is very threatening and could prevent me from winning though.. So we have to see

Ci’ere

“Right before tribal council, Alex of all people tells me that Aren had told him I was an immunity threat and I probably had an idol. He also says that if I actually have an idol that I should play it, WELL I DON’T HAVE ONE. Aren had brought up my past gameplay from an entirely different org and brought it to this one which is seriously upsetting when I’m trying to start fresh here. I confront Aren and he unsurprisingly ignores me. This kid is faker than my tits. I have been nothing but loyal to him this entire game and we’ve worked together on three tribes and then he decides to destroy the games of everyone he’s working with… I have no words.”

Richie

i feel so weird??? i feel like im playing such a different game than i expected myself to play???? my only real survivor org experience was kauai where i won the first 3 immunities in a row post merge and i always was in the know and plotting and being messy and playing hard and the target that i felt on me made me play even harder and messier and try and play proactive and be in control at all times........ but this time its not like that????? i'm not any more safe... i merged with minority numbers on my side so its not like im complacent and safe in a majority??? its just like i dont care??? okay its not that i dont care because i care a lot... but its just like i dont CARE about whats going on as long as i know i'm safe... its a lot more reactionary game and trying to play UTR, just forming social relationships with everyone in this game regardless of side (but not TOO strong bc i dont want people to feel like super betrayed when i vote them out or see me as this fake bitch (which i am lbr))  idk i just feel like i should be doing more for a resume at the end and bc i find joy out of PLAYING this game but for now the less i get involved the less mess is attached to my baggage with people in this game and thats what i'm hoping for right now..... i dont really know whats going on with this vote, my alliance is saying either vote out issy or ciere or split the votes and theres drama where alex told aren about the plan and aren told emmott so theres a mess of distrust so i guess i do know whats going on... i'd like to vote for ciere because thats what i told aren and issy i was doing and if he goes i want to not have a history of lying with them bc so far i've been playing the weak innocent middle man card with that side so i dont want to fuck that image up EVEN THO RUTHIEEEEEEEE TOLD ISSY THAT SHE WAS AFRIAD THE "KHIANA BOYS" WERE AFTER HER... SMH @RUTHIE I LOVE YOU BUT I HATE YOU FOR THAT!!!!! im trying to make it seem like im so beyond the khiana vs fawz lines and be like we're all one race, the human race <3  ynadfhajkdhfks anywayyyyyyys idk what i'm going to do tonight ill prob just vote ciere and hope for the best.... anyone but me right? 

Aren

Welp... It's pretty fucking obvious at this point. I'm officially the unlucky dumbass that the Survivor Gods have elected as victim for tonight's tribal! The virgin sacrifice! It's a shame because for the whole day, it was just - Alex, Ci'ere, Alex, Ci'ere, Alex, Ci'ere. My name was still just a fart in the wind at that point... And THEN, all of a sudden in the last hour or so, BOOM! My name popped out like a surprise erection! It was crazy!!! But, YE lol I think I'm fucked lololloloollollololo its da aren is fukked parteh nd evry1 iz invytid!!!1111 lollolloollo

Ci’ere

“As far as I know, I’m unfortunately being voted out tonight and this will be my last confessional. :,( I didn’t want myself or my allies to go out in vain though so I made a cute little speech that will hopefully inspire people to make moves after I’m eliminated! Anyways, it’s been real Arabia~ This experience has been amazing and I’m so glad that I was able to meet all of you! Note: I just want you all to know that I did everything I could and even when it was 8 vs. 1 I didn’t give up. Bye <3”