#maybe some patterns or key features.. i wish i had the energy for half of what I'm envisioning U_U

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Alright you know what huevember is timeless and I operate on my own schedule

[ifyoulovemeletmebinge]

We’re All Monsters

destiel au where everything in canon is used at the wrong time and oh also cas is a monster. 

for @beingforcedtolivebadwriting

RATED M 

read it on ao3 here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Dean Winchester knows he hates monsters.

That’s one thing. It’s almost the first thing. In almost every situation.

Dean wakes up and all he can think of is how much he hates monsters.

Some of it comes from the fact that John is a shitty dad and that’s not because of him being a shitty dad. Dean can’t remember much at all from his life before the fire, but from what John tells him, they were The Perfect American Family. He knows that at least.

He also knows that because monsters fucked that dynamic up for his family, he hates them unconditionally.

None of that has been truer than how he feels tonight. Tonight, his hands are still shifty on the wheel of the Impala, tonight his feet are still struggling to reach the brake pedal without stretching, and tonight the sky is pitch black and the air is warm and humid, and tonight he’s gonna kill some monsters.

Well. Maybe not.

John’s instructions were to stop by (by which he means break in) the morgue, take an extra look at the bodies, and identify any marks that stand out for a tell of what kind of son of a bitch they were dealing with.

John usually does this himself, but Dean thought it best to not bring up the fact that his dad needs to drink himself to blissful unconsciousness on the week of the anniversary of his dead wife. The case was bad timing, thus, Dean is the lucky pick to do the dirty work.

Not that he minds. This is something he wants to do. This is something he craves. Dean has been getting taller and bigger and stronger, and his hands have been itching more, and he can’t stop shifting his weight, and lately he feels like doing something that will fully transition him into the man he’s supposed to be. Except all he knows is John, and John is a hunter.

But Dean doesn’t mind. He’s good with a gun, and he’s a quick runner (he would have joined the track team if John had let them stay past Christmas break at his last school), and if that’s all he’s got, he’ll use it to do something. He’ll figure it out.

He’d way prefer to risk himself getting arrested, and going to juvie (again), than Sammy. Sammy, who’s back at the motel. Sammy who’s hopefully, peacefully sleeping. Sammy, who he hopes won’t be awake to see John come back from the bar. Dean intends to make it back before that. It’s only 11pm. He’s got time.

Dean parks the Impala (he only struggles for a few seconds with it, alright) a couple blocks down from the police station. His shoulders crowd up around his ears, cotton of his sweatshirt brushing his jaw, as he walks, as silent as he can, between the shadows of the decorative trees in this stupid suburb, to the back of the station.

He’s already scouted the place earlier in the day, so he knows which window leads to the desired formaldehyde smelling room. The station is only one story high, so he’s easily able to unlatch the outside lock with his pocket knife, and heave himself up. He shimmies himself in (fuck, that window’s tight) and ends up doing a supported handstand on the morgue floor. He throws his legs to the side--only hurting his ankles a little on the edge of the window--and then he’s finally got both his feet on the ground.

Dean stands up from his crouch, slowly. Then he scoffs to himself. Who the fuck is gonna hear him in here?

He moves closer to where the target is. There’s a sleek metal table in front of him, and yes, there’s a dead person on it, covered by a thin white sheet. Dean searches for gloves in the dark, because he’s a teenage boy but he’s not that gross, and he snaps them on, pulling back the sheet and averting his eyes from the corpse’s face. He goes straight to where the money is.

At the junction between the corpse’s shoulder and jaw, right in the middle of the neck, there’s a big bite. It’s not anything his dad has seen before, as he kept complaining so much since they found the case, and Dean has to swallow back bile at how ugly it looks. Black and protruded, half scaly-like, half-raw ripped skin, at least under the moonlight coming from the window. He should have brought a flashlight.

Dean is cataloging the patterns to draw for his dad later, tracing his fingers over the lines carefully, really feeling the texture and the way it’s swollen the skin. He thinks he imagines the sound at first.

Then he stops his hand, and he thinks again.

That’s definitely a sound. Like a real movement that wasn’t him, and it’s coming—it came at least—from the room right next door, the main storage for the other bodies. Dean turns his head to look at the door, and oh, would you look at that, it’s peeking open to more darkness on the other side. Where the sound came from. Except how is there a sound at a morgue in the dead of night?

Dean was not prepared for this. His heartbeat starts announcing itself in his ears, and he’s almost vibrating with fear. He thinks of his dad. What would John do at a time like this? Probably start shooting.

But Dean didn’t have a gun. Even if he did, it could just be the doctor, or a policeman staying after (they always got in his way), and he can’t go around shooting random people. It’s hard to explain to a dead person: “Hey! Sorry! Thought you were a monster! My bad!”

Then he remembers his pocket knife, whips it out, and holds it tight in his right fist. Dean starts walking towards the door, but he wants to knock the whole wall down and skeet the fuck out of there.

He holds his breath as he gently kicks the door with the tip of his boot (he figured out a way to make Sam convince John to get him new ones, and yeah, these loggers are pretty fucking cool), and then he’s in the room.

The first thing he notices when his eyes adjust to how dark it is in there (honestly, would it kill a monster to turn on a light?), is the two figures bent over what he assumes is another poor corpse being taken advantage of. He also hears… ew. Those are chomping and chewing noises. He never gets the clean ones.

Dean doesn’t know what to do! Does he shout? Scare them? Lunge at them? Anything he does next could be the last thing he does. Is he ready to die?

Luckily, Dean doesn’t have to decide his first move because the figures do it for him.

It happens too fast—and maybe he’s reading too many comics because his first thought is I wish I had super speed like Barry so I could gank these fuckers, except he doesn’t, so it’s fast.

He’s on his back in a blink. There’s a bony arm on his neck and another holding one of his wrists in a grip so tight Dean wants to make a eulogy for his circulation. There’s also a normal-ish weight on his hips and his stomach, which suddenly lurches because fuck. Fuck. The monster’s on him, he’s pinned. And for some reason he’s still alive.

Still. Fuck.

After a moment of heaving breathing from the guy on top of him, the figure lurking around, and his own wheezing lungs, Dean grunts out: “You guys gonna eat me or what?”

The guy above him doesn’t let up, but Dean does feel the other one walking around. Like the ground shakes with his every step as he comes closer to Dean’s ears near the floor.

“Personally,” says Figure 2 from way above him, and Dean feels disoriented at how far away his voice sounds, “I’m fairly content. My son here, however… well, he’s just famished.”

Dean’s eyes flick to the guy on him, trying to make out his features but it’s just too dark, and all he can feel is the terribly tight grip on his wrist, the way his forearm is crushing on his neck, and—hey. His pocket knife is still in his hand. His free hand, the one trapped under the small of his back, where he can feel the butt of the handle digging into his skin slightly.

“Go on, son.”

Figure 1, aka The Son, seems to be hesitating, and Dean doesn’t want to wait till he decides if he wants more salt on him or not before the meal, so he wriggles his hand out, and drives it across his body and downwards in a surprisingly strong stroke. He knows he hit something when the arms on top of him lift up entirely, and there’s a pained groan resounding amid the darkness.

He rolls on his side, scrambles up, and flies out of the room, back into the main morgue lab, through the door, down and down the long hallway, past the reception desk, and he’s out the main entrance, not caring one bit about the obnoxious ringing of the alarm behind him.

His calves are burning by the time he throws himself in the Impala, and he clumsily fishes out his dad’s keys, turning the car on. He drives 50 above the speed limit until he gets to the motel.

Dean tells John everything. He draws what he remembers with shaky hands. He neglects to mention how many of them there were.

<15 years later>

“And then, like a fucking Clint Eastwood movie, he comes back home--”

“You mean the motel?” Sam interrupts.

“Yeah, whatever. So he barges in the door--” Dean frames a rectangle with his hands “--silhouetted by the moonlight, and he tucks his gun in and he swings his dirty machete over his shoulder and he tilts his head and then he says: ‘Boy, pack your stuff. Our job here is done.’ I mean… it was fucking awesome,” Dean chuckles.

“I think your memory is unreliable.”

“Sam, you were dead to the world that night. On my bed, might I add, so you didn’t even see any of this. John kicked ass!”

Eileen’s smile is a little forced, and a little awkward, but Dean can’t blame her. His energy is hard to match when he’s a few beers in. Sam keeps eyeing her, like he's checking in on how she’s receiving this story about their dad. Like she would ever judge him for it.

“He sounds like a brave hunter,” she signs and says. Dean feels way too proud.

Sam tries and fails to keep the grimace off his face. “Yeah. Babe, is it late? We should…” he trails off, tilting his head in the direction of their bedrooms. Eileen nods in agreement, seeming relieved. She squeezes Dean’s hands as she leaves. Sam is standing now, and he waits until Eileen is gone to turn his bitchface on.

“Dean, please stop doing that.”

Dean furrows his eyebrows. “Doing what?”

Sam sighs, exasperated. “Praising dad. I don’t know, sugarcoating him, painting him as the hero. You know damn well he wasn’t.”

Dean’s throat tightens. If that’s what Sam thinks he was doing, he really doesn’t know him at all. He's full of indignation when he answers: “That’s the last thing that I would do. I know firsthand, more than you, how shitty John was. Sam, I know. I was telling the story how I remembered it. ‘Cause back then? Yeah, he was my hero. I’m old enough to know better now, but--what the fuck do you care? You think I’m purposely lying to Eileen? For what?”

Sam can’t meet his eyes. “Dean, no that’s not what I-I just can’t hear that shit. It makes me… uncomfortable. I don’t wanna talk about dad like that anymore. I'd rather not talk about him at all, actually! I just… I can’t hear that shit from you.”

Dean balks, mouth open. He scoffs, “Fine.” He stands up and puts his jacket back on, checking his pockets for his keys and his wallet.

He’s halfway up the stairs when Sam calls from the library, “Dean, come on. Let’s talk about this. Or not! Dude, we just got back from a hunt, don’t leave. Let just-let’s forget about it, alright?”

Dean pauses at the railing. He turns around and shouts down at Sam: “Yeah, sure, Sammy! Let's forget our whole heritage. It never fucking mattered to you anyways.”

He’s slamming the door to the bunker closed behind him, and hopping in the Impala (which he didn’t have time to wash or put in the garage since their hunt), and then he’s off god knows where. He needs a drink.

Dean picks the fourth bar/restaurant place he sees. That seems like far enough away from his brother for now. It’s one he hasn’t gone to yet. Fun, new, and exciting!

He’s working on his third whiskey, maybe half an hour after he arrived, when the bartender puts down another glass in front of him.

Dean glances up. “Hey, um. I’m good for now, really.”

The bartender is tying his long cornrows in a ponytail on the back of his head, and when he meets Dean’s eyes, he gives him a shit-eating grin. He nods off to the side, “Courtesy of your secret admirer.” Then he winks at him and leaves for the kitchen behind him. Dean feels all warm inside at that, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it before a man sits down on the stool next to him, a non-respectable four inch distance away.

Dean is appalled before he takes in this dude, and okay. Not bad. Looks about the same age, dresses like a grandpa from the trenchcoat he sees, has spiky black hair that Dean might want to run his hands through, and shit, fuck, he’s looking at Dean, say something!

“Hello,” the man says and whoa, who died and made you Batman? His lips are plumper than a guy’s lips usually are (look who’s talking, Dean) and chapped and they’ve got a nice shape. Dean likes the cupid’s arch on his upper lip, it looks classy. His nose is pointy, and maybe a bit small, but damn if it doesn’t work well with his sharp cheekbones. By the time Dean can register his eyes, all his brain can think of is wow.

Dean’s never seen bluer eyes. They’re as clear as the sky, but Dean feels like he could drown in them. Or maybe that’s just the way this man is looking at him. Dean’s rarely been stared at with this much intensity, and he feels a blush spread to the tips of his hot ears.

He clears his throat. “Hi.” Dean has to look away now, back to his own glass before he combusts. He’s surprised a dude like him would buy him a drink.

Apparently, the man can’t sense how awkward and unprepared Dean was for this because he starts talking again, keeping his voice low so that only Dean can hear him, so it’s only a rumble in his chest. “I hope I’m not overstepping. You looked like you needed some company. Is that the kind you like to drink?”

Dean is so flustered at the sheer… whatever this dude has, he has to remind himself this is a normal human interaction. Be nice. Make eye contact.

“Yeah, it’s uh--it’s great. Thanks. For buying it. Um, I’m kinda driving tonight, though, so I might want to stop at this--” Dean raises his own drink in his hand “--You can-you want it? I'd be a waste otherwise.” He’s cringing so bad inside that his stomach hurts.

The man levels him a neutral stare. A few seconds later, he nods and reaches over to pick up the extra whiskey. Dean follows his hands and fuck they’re nice. He’s got long fingers, and for some reason the way his metacarpals shift under his skin is incredibly attractive.

The fun doesn’t stop there though, because then the guy is bringing the glass to his mouth, and he’s not taking his eyes off Dean’s own wide ones, and he’s taking a drink and it all looks sinful. The way his trachea shifts as he swallows, the opening and closing of his enticing jaw, and especially the way his pink tongue peeks out from his mouth to lick at the rim of the glass.

Dean swallows what feels like sandpaper.

“My name is Castiel,” he says, putting the glass down, holding it between his hands like he's bracketing it. He shifts his hands and the glass follows, rotating back and forth.

“Dean.”

Castiel nods, his lips quirk up a little, and this might be the first sort-of smile Dean has seen from him.

“Why’d you buy me a drink?” he blurts out.

The grin grows by a millimeter. “You looked like you needed one.”

Dean snorts. “That bad, huh?”

“Maybe that good.” Dean sees a peek of teeth from Castiel and he can’t help but shiver.

Dean recognizes it for what it is, so he turns on his own charm, slipping into familiar flirting territory.

“So what do you do, Castiel?”

Castiel’s eyes flick to Dean’s mouth for the quickest moment, and then his mouth is a neutral plane again, smirk vanishing completely. He thinks for a few seconds. “I’m an accountant.”

Dean knows that could mean literally anything, except the guy is wearing a tie and there’s a trenchcoat, so yeah. He’s an accountant for real.

“Cool. Numbers, huh?”

Castiel narrows his eyes, like he’s squinting. Dean finds it both intimidating and endearing. “Yes. How about you, Dean?”

He blushes harder at hearing his name in that gravelly voice, but keeps his cool when he answers, rehearsed: “Odd jobs, here and there.”

Castiel doesn’t miss a beat. “Fascinating.”

Dean blinks. Okay. “Is it?”

“Yes. You must travel a lot.”

“I do, yeah,” he nods, feeling a little vulnerable.

Castiel is back to staring at him intensely, and it makes Dean’s veins sizzle a little with want. They’re upgrading from Flirting/Small Talk Territory to Let’s Go Like Now Territory. Dean’s breathing comes a little deeper.

“Would you like to travel right now?”

“What?”

Castiel is definitely looking at his mouth. “Would you like to go outside?”

Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise. This guy does not waste time. Not that he’s complaining, he’s been feeling hot all over since Castiel sat down, and he’d give himself at most another half an hour before he proposed they move this interaction somewhere else himself. So Dean downs the rest of his whiskey, feels the buzz in his ears and the tips of his fingers, and he stands up. “Let’s go.”

Castiel follows him outside.

The night is more humid than it should be for August, but Dean can feel the chill of Fall coming, and he’s grateful for his jacket. He’s shoved his hands in his jean pockets as he walks to the corner where the sidewall of the bar meets the front wall of it. He stops and leans one shoulder right at the edge of the wall to the side, facing the parking lot. Out of options for what to say, Dean waits until Castiel comes closer (his hands are in his trench coat pockets and it’s weirdly cute), and he points at his Baby, thirty feet away.

“That’s my car. She’s my Baby.”

Castiel stops two feet away from him, but right in front, and he turns his body to the side to follow where Dean’s finger points. He stares at the Impala for a bit, before he turns his head to Dean again. The light coming from inside the restaurant is what brightens Castiel’s face and Dean is a little breathless as he admires his illuminated features.

“She’s very beautiful.”

Dean smiles, proud and sheepish. “Thanks. Um, what about yours?”

Castiel inhales, taken aback. “Oh. I didn’t drive here tonight. I like walking.” he says slowly.

“Oh, okay.” Dean answers stupidly. It’s not that he’s disappointed they can’t talk about cars, it’s just… what else are they supposed to talk about at a moment like this?

“So what brought you here tonight, Cas?” Dean doesn’t catch himself in time, and the nickname is out. Oops. Castiel seems to inflate a little in response though, so he’s fine. For now.

“Rough day.” He says, then like an afterthought he adds, “At work.”

This dude is so fucking weird. Dean is obsessed with him.

Suddenly, he doesn’t want to wait anymore, he just wants to take what Castiel offered. He’s been wanting to taste him since he looked at his lips, so he smirks at Castiel and he asks, “Come here, Cas.”

For a moment Castiel tilts his head, and Dean can’t figure him out, and he kinda loves that, the anticipation of not knowing what this guy is gonna do or who he is. Dean beckons him with a hand. He’s drunk enough on the beers from earlier and the whiskey and the adrenaline drop from the finished hunt that he’s allowing himself this tonight. A little recklessness can’t hurt.

Castiel walks closer than Dean expected him to, and Dean turns to press his back to the side wall, his shoulder barely off the edge where the front and side connect. Castiel follows the twist of his body perfectly because suddenly he’s crowding Dean against the small space with his hands on either side of his head on the wall. Their faces are mere inches apart.

Dean loves the way the air shifts then, like someone pulled a lever down and the current of electricity started running. They’re breathing each other’s air, and Castiel’s eyes are glued to Dean’s mouth, while Dean alternates his staring between Castiel’s darkened eyes and those chapped lips. Dean feels like he's vibrating.

He forces his hands to unfreeze and brush the trench coat flaps aside, coming to rest on top of Castiel’s hips, over his belt. This moves their bodies closer still, Dean subconsciously opening his legs wider to let Castiel slot a knee in between them. Their hips press, Dean shivers, and then he shivers even more when he feels Castiel’s lips pressing against his.

It’s exactly like he imagined, except it’s about a thousand times better. Castiel’s lips are soft and pliant, and he presses brushing kisses and pecks Dean’s lips for a bit, leaving them tingling for more, until he starts to really get into it. Castiel softly clamps his mouth around Dean’s bottom lip and he pulls back, and Dean is so fucked. He tries to keep his knees from wobbling, and then he gets what he wants when Castiel presses forward again, kissing him open mouthed, and there is his tongue, and it tastes really sweet and Dean feels positively intoxicated.

He can’t remember when he closed his eyes, but there are fireworks exploding behind them, and his dick is saying “Hell, yeah!” and he’s tilting his head to kiss Castiel deeper, chasing more of his mouth and his taste and his smell. His hands are gripping Castiel’s hips in a vice.

Dean can’t help the moan he lets out when Castiel’s tongue does a thing, and he also can’t help his surprise when Castiel pulls back abruptly after the sound has registered. His shock is almost overshadowed by the crude things his brain is thinking when he takes in Castiel, whose lips are shiny and wet, and whose pupils are enormous.

Dean holds his breath, furrows his eyebrows, and waits. Castiel is looking at him, pained.

“Dean, I can’t,” he whispers.

There is a moment, and then Dean blinks, understanding everything. He’s a little upset, but mostly embarrassed, except his brain can’t fully express that, so it’s put through a well-oiled machine that converts it into anger. Now, that he can do.

He’s pushing Castiel off him, walking five steps away then pivoting and walking back. He repeats this path, running a hand down his face as Castiel just fucking stands there, looking at him sadly.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Dean bites out.

“Dean, I can-” Casties tries.

“No, seriously. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he whirls around to stare right at Castiel a few feet away. Castiel’s shoulders fall and it enrages Dean even more.

“You know what, Cas? Go fuck yourself. You got some issues to figure out, and it’s not gonna be with me. Go to hell, asshole.” Dean spits out, fixing Castiel with a furious stare, feeling his jaw tick in anger, and then he’s stomping away.

As he gets closer to the Impala, he crosses his arms, feeling indignation constrict his chest. This is not the first time this has happened with Dean and unfortunately, he thinks it probably won’t be the last.

Damn it. A guy like that? Probably has a pretty little wife, probably hides his wedding band right in his front pocket, which Dean completely skipped on his way to grab at Castiel’s ass. He groans internally as he rounds the back of the car till he reaches the driver’s door. He’s going home with the worst case of blue balls he’s ever had.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” He hears as he fishes out his keys and puts the right one in the slot to unlock the door, and hey, Castiel’s voice is much closer than he expected, but Dean doesn’t have time to turn around and yell at him some more because suddenly the ground is completely gone from under his feet. Dean’s vision goes blinding white, and then pitch black.

The pain finally registers on the back of his head, and the last thing he sees before he's out, is the key chain dangling from the lock on the Impala’s door.

****

The world slowly slots back together as Dean wakes up. There’s four, then three, then two, and then it all merges into one again. Dean acutely feels the pouding in his head.

He’s… laying down? Yeah, he’s on a bed. The mattress is nice. There's even a thin blanket on top of him, dark grey. He turns his head to the side-nope, that’s a wall-tries the other side and okay good, there’s the rest of the room. He feels a little less claustrophobic now that he’s seen the whole space. It’s dark just because the lights are off. It looks like a normal basement, unfinished ceiling and all, with boxes stacked in the corner covering a whole wall. There’s a couch facing him, parallel to the bed, and there’s a figure sitting there. Dean eyes his phone, wallet, car keys, and pocket knife on a night stand next to the bed. It’s just out of his reach.

He pinches his eyes shut, wiggles his toes in his boots (no brain damage done, yay), and then he groans out: “What can I do for ya, Mr. Monster?”

When he opens his eyes, Castiel has turned one of the overhead light bulbs on. He looks serious.

“Firstly, I want to apologize, Dean. I didn’t want to have to do this, and I didn’t plan for it.”

Dean is more than confused. “What.”

Castiel stands up from his couch, he’s only in his suit now, tie loosened, and damn Dean’s stupid (probably concussed) brain, but he still looks yummy. Monster, Dean. Focus.

Castiel crosses his arms, and plants his feet. He keeps a very respectable distance away from the bed, and Dean’s gut twists at the thought that he was playing him all along.

“I didn’t… want to seduce you. I just wanted to talk. I might have derailed from my plan slightly.”

Dean’s jaw ticks. “And what was that amazing plan of yours, Castiel? If that’s your real name.”

Castiel narrows his eyes at Dean’s tone. He huffs a breath out his nose, frowning.

“You know, Dean, you may not remember me, but I remember you. Fifteen years ago, your father killed my father, and I’ve been keeping tabs on you ever since.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breaths out after a few seconds of stunned silence, propping himself up to fully sit up on the bed. He feels his bruised brain click things together. “You’re the second one. You survived.”

Castiel is silent, and that’s all the confirmation Dean needs to know he was pinned down by this guy way before tonight.

Dean laughs. “What kind of fucked up revenge plot is this? You’ve been stalking me for years? Well, then you must know my father died of alcohol poisoning almost a decade ago. It was ugly and painful, and you missed your chance, asshole.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Dean,” he says sternly, “I didn’t want to kill your father. And I don’t want to kill you. That’s not why I ended up kidnapping you tonight. I’m grateful for what your father did for me.”

Dean does a double take, swings his feet off the bed and onto the ground. “You’re what?”

“This may come as a surprise, but not every monster is a monster. Not fully, anyway. I’m half-human. And I need your help to go all the way.”

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (68/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous chapters conveniently available here.

[24 November 236 Before Age.  Extraliga.]

What happened next in the cavern was beyond anyone's ability to explain.   Even the ancient beings who designed and constructed the Recollector would have been confused, as they had created the prism-shaped device for the purpose of retrieving historical artifacts from the past.  They had things in mind like pottery, stone tools, and ancient scrolls.  They had never considered using the Recollector to transport something as powerful and dangerous as the Ur-Ember.

This had been the Shockmaster's plan.  By bringing the Ur-Ember to Extraliga, its intense magical emanations would kill nearly all life forms on the planet, while a select few would survive.  This remnant would be the descendants of the ancient warlocks who used the Ur-Ember to found the Wist Hegemony, and the Shockmaster hoped that the Ur-Ember would awaken whatever latent power they had inherited from their ancestors.  He would then train these survivors and use both them and the Ur-Ember to recreate a new Wist Hegemony upon the ashes of the original.  

Neither he nor the Recollector's designers had dreamed that a pair of Dorluns would attempt to disrupt the Recollector during a retrieval program.  Zatte attempted to disrupt the energy patterns inside it, and while this failed to stop its operation, she did more damage to the device than she realized.  The Recollector was well engineered, but it was extremely old, and even the most reliable technology can succumb to deterioration.  Zatte's tampering damaged a key thermocouple element.  There were backups and fail-safes present to compensate for this, but these would also fail in the centuries to come.  The damage was hardly irreparable, but the last person qualified to repair the Recollector had died thousands of years ago.  

One might argue, then, that this was the fatal flaw in the Shockmaster's ultimate scheme.   For all he dreamed of reviving the glorious past, the fact remained that it was gone.  What remained was merely a collection of relics and artifacts.  The Recollector, the Wistian homeworld, the handful of Extraligans who carried the genes of Wist's founders, the Shockmaster himself, and so on.  Many of these relics were well-preserved and could give a scholar a tantalizing glimpse into that bygone age.  Many of these relics were powerful, and still capable of working great feats which would seem like miracles, even by the standards of the modern world.  But in the end, they were still relics: damaged, imperfect, incomplete, or simply obsolete.  The Shockmaster could gather them together and attempt to harness their power, but they would never be what they once were.  Wist would never be what it once had been, no matter how dearly he wished, nor how hard he tried to make it so.

Nonetheless, the Recollector was able, on that day, to carry out its task and transport the Ur-Ember from the moon of Planet Wist to Extraliga, across seventy-two centuries.  However, the second Dorlun, a girl named Keda, devised a second plan to foil the Shockmaster.  Though she couldn't prevent the Ur-Ember from arriving on Extraliga, she could use the Recollector to ensure that it wouldn't be staying very long.  She programmed the Recollector to wait one billion years in standby mode, then set it to retrieve the Ur-Ember all over again, thereby transporting it from Keda's time into the distant future.  By that time, she expected Planet Extraliga would be an uninhabitable rock, and the Ur-Ember would pose no danger.  

And indeed, one billion years later, the Recollector finally reactivated, and carried out Keda's instructions.  But by that time, the Recollector's deterioration had advanced considerably, and the consequences of the damaged thermocouple finally took their toll.  To be sure, the Recollector was a very well-designed device, and the fact that it still worked at all, more than an aeon after its construction, was a testament to its builders' skill.  But the minor flaws and misalignments that developed were enough to disrupt its delicate function.  

What Keda had expected to happen was that the Ur-Ember would suddenly appear before her in a cavern on Extraliga.  In the next instant, it would then disappear, as it was taken on the second leg of its trip through time.  The only uncertainty was whether the Ur-Ember would emit enough lethal radiation in that instant to kill her and Zatte before it vanished.  She had tried to make its presence in the cavern as brief as possible, but there was no way to reduce the time interval to zero.   In other words, Keda expected it to all be over in less than a second.  Her plan would either work, or she would die where she stood.  

Instead, the Recollector of one billion years in the future failed to correctly gauge the target date and time that Keda had entered.  Instead of grabbing the Ur-Ember at the very moment it arrived, it tried to grab the Ur-Ember a microsecond early.  While this may appear to be a very small error, it was enough to cause a temporal distortion to open in the cavern.  To be sure, it was a relatively insignificant temporal distortion to those who study such phenomena, but it didn't seem that way to Keda, who was standing directly under it.  It looked very much like a miniature hurricane made of dark purple stormclouds, and it lasted considerably longer than one second.

Completely unprepared for this development, Keda fell back on her innate power to alter her shape at will, and expanded her body to shield Zatte from the unknown phenomenon.  She wasn't sure how much protection she could offer Zatte, or even what she was trying to protect her from, but it was the only thing she knew to try.  Above them, the temporal distortion altered the speed of the air molecules in the cavern, creating high winds that kicked up pebbles and anything else that wasn't secured to the ground.  Extending her leg into a sort of tentacle, Keda looped it around the Recollector, and hoped that the combined weight of it, Zatte, and herself would be enough to stay put.  

But the temporal distortion wasn't the only hazard at play.  The Ur-Ember was also present within it, although it was caught between the actions of the Recollector of this day and the one of a billion years hence.  Had Keda thought to look up, she might have noticed it floating amidst the swirls of purple.  It was a golden sphere with irregular fissures in its surface, and something inside of those fissures glowed red, as if there were a flame inside.  For twenty seconds, it hovered in the cavern, surrounded by the distortion.  

Fortunately for the Dorluns, the distortion blunted the deadly effects of the Ur-Ember's mystic radiation.  A brief exposure would have killed almost anyone at this distance, but the ripples through time and space that separated them from the object interfered with the flow of its power.  Deadlier emanations which would have killed them in seconds now took entire minutes to reach Keda, while others were simply diffused and rendered harmless, or reflected back upon the source.  

Keda, of course, understood none of this.  She only knew the wind that surged around her, and that she had to protect herself and her friend for as long as possible.  

Zatte understood their predicament even less, as she had been badly injured earlier, and was half-asleep from medication.  As it happened, she managed to wake up at that moment.  

"Whaaa?" she asked as she found herself in a dark cocoon made of Keda's pliable body.  

"Don't move!" Keda told her.  "I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm trying to ride it out!"

After a few seconds, Zatte began to recall the events of the past hour.  "The Recollector," she groaned.  "What happened--?"

"Something went wrong," Keda said.  "Well, we didn't die, so maybe everything turned out all right!  I don't know."

"Where's Luffa?" Zatte asked.  

Keda had almost forgotten about her.  Fortunately, Super Saiyans were never very hard to find.  "I can still sense her ki!" she replied after a moment’s concentration.  "And the Shockmaster too.  They're still fighting."

The wind began to pick up, and Keda felt the Recollector's weight shift.  Just as she wondered if she should try to reach for something else to use as an anchor, she felt a vibration from it.  Then, suddenly, it seemed to cease to exist.   The leg she had looped around its bulk now went completely slack.  

In that moment, Keda had forgotten that the Recollector became intangible when it wasn't in use, and she had programmed it to go on standby.  It wouldn't become solid again for a billion years.  As she realized this, the wind became strong enough to roll Keda over, with Zatte inside.  

"What's happening?" Zatte asked.  

"Hang on!" Keda shouted.  

Keda reached out with her hands, desperately seeking some purchase in the cavern floor, but there was none.  As the wind grew stronger, she noticed that it was becoming more and more difficult to resist the gusts that buffeted her.  A decent-sized rock struck her, and she realized that she had to act quickly before the storm intensified.  Wrapping herself tightly around Zatte's body, she summoned her ki.  

Luffa had given Keda basic martial arts training over a year ago.  Keda was a quick study, and genuinely determined to improve, but she had many other subjects that interested her as well.  Consequently, she had learned a lot of ways to use ki, though she had never spent much time on making herself stronger.  Indeed, ki power was something of a liability for Keda, who was used to relying on shapeshifting and stealth in a crisis.  The downside of ki techniques was that they could be sensed by other, more powerful ki users.  Both she and Zatte had made a point of suppressing their ki during this mission, for example, so as to prevent their enemies from sensing their presence and locating the Recollector.  

But the situation had clearly changed.  The Shockmaster might find her this way, but Keda doubted he would get past Luffa.  Besides, the immediate threat--in her estimation--was this storm.  She had enough power to knock away the debris that came flying at them, and she could fly a short distance, perhaps even far enough to reach the mouth of the cavern.  Zatte was a lot stronger in this regard, and the task would have been much easier if the two of them could work together, but the older Dorlun was in no condition to try.  

In another few seconds, Keda might have made it to safety, but then she felt a strange burning sensation on the part of her body facing the distortion.   She crashed to the cavern floor, still trying to cradle Zatte and soften the landing as much as she could for her.

"Are you all right?" Zatte asked.  

"I don't know," Keda admitted.  It was difficult not to panic.  She knew very little about what was happening, or how to survive it.  

"Keda, lemme out of here," Zatte slurred.  "We can help each other get to the way out."

Keda didn't like that idea.  "The radiation, remember?" she asked.  "I felt something a second ago.   It might have been--"

And suddenly Keda was gone.  

Zatte looked around and struggled to make sense of it.   The temporal distortion had collapsed, and the Ur-Ember had vanished along with it.  The Recollector was also gone.  It would indeed survive to complete its program in one billion years, but it would not do so on Extraliga.

The cavern was lit only by the lamps Zatte had set up when she had first come to this place.  Now they were scattered around the cavern floor, and some of them had been smashed.  The ones that still worked showed that the cyclone that had happened here had been real.  Stones dust, and the contents of Zatte's carryall were strewn everywhere.  But there was no sign of Keda.  

She cried out for her, knowing that it would do no good.  She tried to get to her feet so she could search the cavern, but she was too weak from her injuries.  

So Zatte lay on the cavern floor, and wept bitterly for her lost friend. 

*******

Locked in combat with the Shockmaster, Luffa sensed Keda's ki almost immediately.   Keda wasn't even supposed to be on the planet.  Her very presence was confusing enough, but then the sudden disappearance of Keda's ki disturbed her even more.  

As she reeled from this development, the Shockmaster managed to catch her with a kick to her ribs that sent her crashing into a field of tall grass.  She hit the ground with enough force to produce a crater.   Before the dust cleared, she was already back up and streaking towards him.  

"What did you do to her?" Luffa demanded.  

"I already told you what would happen to this world when the Ur-Ember arrives," the Shockmaster growled.  "Whoever it is you're talking about, her fate will be decided by--"

Luffa slipped under his strikes and slammed her fists into his jaw.  

"What. Did you just.  Do?!" Luffa screamed.  She didn't know what had come over her, but she was so angry that she couldn't see straight.  She couldn't sense Zatte's ki either, but the rest of the planet's energy was as strong as ever.  Had the two of them saved Extraliga, only to die in the attempt?  The Shockmaster might not know what had happened, but he was unquestionably responsible, and his ignorance only made Luffa angrier.  

"I've already done it!" the Shockmaster shouted.  "I've summoned the Ur-Ember, and taken the first step to the restoration of Ancient Wist!  Anyone who stood against me, their fate is sealed!"

"Shut up!" Luffa shrieked.  Her vision was just a blur through her tears as she attacked the Shockmaster with reckless abandon.  She made no effort to defend herself, and simply absorbed his attacks while she unloaded on him with everything she had.  

They couldn't be gone!  They just couldn't be!  Keda wasn't even supposed to be here!  She was supposed to be back on Luffasworld, taking care of the ship and waiting for their return.  She was a Dorlun, a survivor, too practical to stick her nose in a situation like this!  

It had to be some kind of trick!  Zatte maybe.  She had the ability to alter her ki to make it resemble others'.  Maybe she had mimicked Keda for a few seconds just to signal that she had achieved her objective.  She should have told Luffa about that ahead of time, but Zatte was like that sometimes.  Among Dorluns, she was a brilliant warrior, but by Saiyan standards, Zatte tended to miss things that Luffa considered obvious.  Like going over signals before heading into a battle.  

No.  Zatte wasn't nearly so careless.  Something wasn't right.  And it was all!  Because!  Of this!  Gutless oaf of a man!  

"You miserable coward!" she raved.  "You don't even know what you've done!  What you've thrown away!"

"Get... back!" the Shockmaster cried.  

"She's only eleven years old!  She saved my life!  MY LIFE!  Like I was a helpless child!   Showed me who I really am!"

Desperately, the Shockmaster tried to attack her with his Four Moves of Doom, despite their previous failure.  But the Thunderbird would not form.  He couldn't concentrate long enough to pull it together into a coherent form.  He raised his left hand to summon the tendrils of the Lightning Ribbon, and for a moment he managed to wrap them around her body.   For just a moment he  felt safe.  

Then she screamed, and the tendrils of violet energy withered and ripped apart from the pressure of her golden aura.  

******

What truly terrified the Shockmaster wasn't the glowing Saiyan howling before him.   It was that he had been counting on the Ur-Ember to arrive on Extraliga and settle the battle for him, and it hadn't arrived yet.  With each second, he began to wonder if it simply wasn't coming.  

While Luffa screamed, he used the respite to cast out with his mental abilities and seek out the Recollector, as he had done once before.  But he could not find it.    Someone had shut it off, or removed it from the planet, but this couldn't have been accomplished while it was retrieving the Ur-Ember.  Had her allies succeeded in stopping it?  No.  No, that was impossible...

But it was possible, wasn’t it?  Luffa had defied his expectations at every turn.  This awful woman had shattered his ambitions in ways he had never imagined.  She had surpassed his might, dismantled his armies, and now she had denied him the Ur-Ember.   She had withstood his most powerful attacks and shattered his helmet, only to awaken his untapped potential, and now she had surpassed that as well.  

And she was only becoming stronger.  Once, he had beaten her effortlessly, but now, his only hope of defeating her was that the Ur-Ember's radiation would kill her before she could kill him.  But it wasn't coming.  Ancient Wist wasn't coming back.  It would never return.  It was all gone.  Forever.  

He couldn't beat her.  He had been expecting her to tire out, but there seemed to be no end to her stamina.  They had been fighting for over half an hour and she showed no signs of slowing down.  He had hurt her, to be sure, and her breath was as rough and ragged as his own, but she just kept bringing out more and more punishment for him.  

He had no idea what she was so upset about.  The Extraligans?  The rebels back on Planet Wist?  She had won.   Defeated him completely.  Even if he could somehow beat her, it wouldn't do any good.  Without the Recollector, without the Ur-Ember, his plan was finished.  Even if he retreated, he would never get another opportunity to invade Extraliga and try again.  

He remembered long ago when the Ur-Ember had first been lost.  A vengeful god had destroyed Wist's moon when he was a boy.  The god had said something about arrogance that day, and he hadn't known what that word truly meant.  For a time, he had thought the god was the arrogant one for coming to Wist and demanding supplication.  

But now he understood.  He had devoted himself to restoring Wist, to retrieving the Ur-Ember, in defiance of the gods, of time and space, of anything else that would dare stand against him.  But fate had placed in his path this mad Super Saiyan, who opposed him simply because she felt like it.  Fate had made her stronger and more resourceful than he had ever thought possible.  His arrogance had brought him this far, only to be crushed at the very end.  

He had stumbled and fallen, and no matter how quickly he rose to his feet, he could never truly recover what had been lost.  She had been right to call him a coward.  He wanted to run away, but there was nowhere to run.  His homeland no longer existed.  Even if he could escape Luffa, he would never be able to escape himself.   But oh, how he wished he could run away and hide!   He wanted it more than anything.

And so when Luffa finished screaming, and she charged at him at blinding speed, her face twisted into a mask of blind rage, he did nothing to avoid her.  When she raised her left hand, and made it glow with yellow light, he made no move to defend himself.  And when she swung her hand like a battleaxe, aiming for his neck, he merely closed his eyes and wished that things could have been different.  

NEXT: Why We Survive

[asleepinawell]

Destinations

A Story About Root

(AN: I’ve always been strangely fascinated by liminal spaces even before I had a word for what they were…transitional places that are visited only on the way from one point to another, like airports, bus stops, waiting rooms, train stations, hotels. Places where people aren’t supposed to stay for any length of time. I started thinking about Root in conjuncture with liminal spaces which led to this post which led to this fic).

The bus rolls out of the station, engine rumbling and smoke billowing from the tailpipe. Root doesn’t even look out the window as she gets carried away from Bishop for forever. She doesn’t know where she’s heading, but that’s okay. She doesn’t need a destination.

It’s two in the afternoon and the sun overhead is unrelenting. It’s hot out (even for summer in Nevada), the air is dry, and she’d kill for a bottle of water (she’s killed for way less).

She licks her cracked lips and swings her feet back and forth in space. She’s taken up residence on a wooden fence at the side of the empty dirt road. It’s a crossroads; two dirt tracks meeting at a harsh right angle, both stretching away into the endless expanse of nothing.

Her car broke down a few hours ago and she’d tried to walk to somewhere she could hitch a ride, but there is nothing and no one out here except her. It’s almost peaceful.

She can’t go back to her car (which has an unfortunate case of being full of bullet holes from a job almost-gone-wrong), and she won’t make it out if she tries to walk the whole way. That’s okay though. For right now she’s content to sit here, waiting.

Maybe, she thinks, when she gets out of here she’ll take that job in New York she’d thought about passing on. It isn’t a very interesting job (some political assassination) and she hasn’t been planning to take it at all, but being in a city sounds nice right about now. Much less chance of dying of dehydration and exposure, for starters. And she always meets the most interesting people in cities….

Airports are the closest thing she’s ever had to a home. They’re all different, and yet all have the same underlying energy to them. It’s three in the morning and her flight has been delayed for the third time due to a winter storm somewhere in the mid-west. It’s over air-conditioned here despite the weather and she’d bought an overpriced ‘I heart San Francisco’ sweatshirt from a kiosk to use as a blanket.

There aren’t a lot of people around: a few other passengers waiting for the same flight (all asleep), some random travelers wandering about, and an old janitor vacuuming the floor. She enjoys the relative solitude here. Airports are usually so crowded, noisy, easy to fade into. It’s nice to have a quiet moment.

Sometimes she feels like nothing can really happen in places like this. They’re stuck in time and space, not completely real. Somewhere down the hall she sees a man in a business suit slowly kicking a vending machine. A woman comes out of one of the bathrooms and lies down on the floor next to the wall. No one looks at her. A man wearing a baseball cap has his luggage open and his clothes spread out on the terminal floor. The speaker system is playing Gloria by Laura Branigan for the third time since she’d checked in. She’s not sure any of these things are real. Some days it’s hard to sort out reality, and places like this allow for blurring that line, encourage it.

It’s why she’s still annoyed that Harold’s muscle-brained watchdog had found them in the train station. Train stations are supposed to be safe. Reality isn’t allowed there. How had he gotten in?

It doesn’t matter now though. She has a new lead on the marvel that Harold is attempting to keep from her. She’s heading back to New York again to track down a lead on Daniel Aquino and she has this unshakable feeling that this time she’s going to find something solid.

The hospital is strangely familiar to her in a way that makes her skin crawl (though she supposes that may be the drugs as well). It’s removed from time, dreamy like a nightmare, intangible. But, unlike other places she’s been that feel this way, there’s no way forward.

In some ways there’s never an escape from any of these hazy in-between places she flits among, but she’s never so clearly felt trapped, stalled.

When the phone on the wall rings it’s like a door creaking open at the end of a long, dark hallway. And when, after a short time enjoying her freedom, she finds herself in another cage, she wonders if this is just another part of the same pattern. Always waiting, never being.

With the Machine calling the shots she still travels a lot, still sleeps in airports, train stations, bus stops. She eats shitty fast food at highway rest stops, overpriced bags of snack food in airports. There’s an endless string of cheap motels, each as forgettable as the last.

But her familiarity with these places is important now, useful. It’s as if she spent her whole life training for this. She thrives in these places, can exist in them effortlessly, and now she has a real purpose for being in them. 

The Machine offers to find her a place to come back to, an apartment somewhere (maybe in New York?), but she wouldn’t know what to do with a place like that so she always says no.

Staying in one place, creating ties, it would only leave her exposed. If she never has anything, she can’t lose anything. If she never has a place to go back to, then she can’t miss it.

“Do you have a favorite airport?” she asks Shaw as they wander through Miami.

Shaw looks at her blankly, waiting for the punchline.

“Okay, how about a least favorite one? In the U.S., to make it simpler.”

“Why?” Shaw asks, suspicious.

“I think La Guardia is generally considered the worst airport in the country,” she continues as if Shaw had answered. “It smells wrong and looks filthy. I’ve heard it described as ‘soul-sucking’. Though, personally, I dislike LAX even more.”

Shaw frowns a bit but doesn’t reply.

“I am somewhat perversely fond of the one in Las Vegas, though. So tacky and loud, like the whole strip there. They took somewhere already barely real and made it even more fake. It’s refreshingly honest in that way.”

“What’s with you and airports?” Shaw looks annoyed. “They’re just an inescapable annoyance. Like you.”

She smiles at that, leaning a little too far into Shaw’s space. Shaw moves further away from her on the sidewalk, grumbling.

She knows Shaw isn’t like her; it’s one of the reasons she finds her so compelling. Shaw is immune to the strange call of unreality in those places that Root practically lives in. Root’s always only been loosely connected to the rest of the world, moving from one waypoint to the next. Shaw is a fixed point in time and, when she’s with her, Root finds herself wishing for the first time ever that she could stand still.

Shaw’s apartment is orderly, minimalistic. Nothing is out of place because there’s nothing to be out of place. She wonders why Shaw chose this specific apartment. Had she chosen at random?

She watches Shaw pull her shoes off, drop her keys on the table. She looks like she belongs here, in this space. Or rather, the space looks like it belongs to her. As if she isn’t defined by her surroundings but instead defines them. She doesn’t need to decorate or personalize a physical location because everything she wants or needs is already part of her.

She’s immune to the things that twist and shape others. That twist and shape Root.

“Don’t bleed on my stuff.” Shaw pulls a medical kit out of the one cabinet she owns.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The only notable feature of this space is Shaw herself. Root decides she likes it.

The third time she crashes at Shaw’s marks the last time the Machine ever offers to find her an apartment of her own. It takes her awhile to juxtapose the two events, and when she does she’s not sure how to feel. She makes herself stay away for the next month, but it’s already too late by then. There’s a compass inside her now and the needle points to wherever Sameen Shaw is.

Every day she’s a different person, a new person. It’s always been easy for her, slipping into someone else’s skin. She’s good at it; too good at it. Some days she forgets who Root actually is.

Some day she wonders if Root actually is anyone.

But Shaw seems to know who she is, even when she’s not sure herself.

JFK is shockingly empty, even for Christmas day. It’s one of the better airports she frequents and usually she enjoys her time here, but the Machine has fallen silent with Samaritan on the loose and she’s let herself get used to having Her with her in places like this. She feels alone again, and now it’s unpleasant.

A man spills coffee all over his luggage and stands there staring at it for the longest time. A couple children race each other up and down the hallway, playing some game only they know the rules of. A dog is howling somewhere nearby, low and mournful. D’Yer Ma’ker by Led Zeppelin is playing softly in the background and she wonders how many times she’s heard that play in an airport. Were there songs that lent themselves to places like these?

An hour rolls by before she gives in and calls her.

“Root?” Shaw sounds like she’s half-asleep.

“Hey, sweetie. Did I wake you up?”

A pause and then: “What do you want?”

“Can’t a girl just call to say hello?”

There’s a small child screaming a few terminals away; his mother looks exasperated and exhausted. Two men in expensive suits laugh together as they walk away from her area. These things are jarring in a way they’ve never been before.

“You need my help or something? The Machine got a job for me?”

“No. I just called to….” She feels awkward, unsure what to say for once.

Shaw is silent on the other end of the line.

“Where are you?” she asks at last.

“Airport. JFK.”

“Coming or going?”

“Going.” She hadn’t had time to see any of the others on this trip.

“Where to this time?”

“L.A. first, but I think I’m catching a connecting flight to somewhere else. She’ll find a way to let me know.” With the Machine silent, even the little signs She leaves feel like a panacea for the emptiness.

“Thought you hated LAX.”

She’s genuinely surprised that Shaw remembers that. “I do, but…. It’s important, what I’m doing. What we’re all doing.”

Shaw grunts in a way that could mean anything. “When’re you back?”

“Back….” Back is a new concept. Coming back somewhere implies having somewhere to come back to, a fixed point. She wonders when Shaw became a destination for her.

“Not really sure. Whenever I finish the task She has for me.”

“Try not to die.”

“Why, Sameen, that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Shaw groans and she laughs softly at her.

She won’t tell Shaw that she was serious.

With Shaw gone and the Machine silent, she feels untethered in a way she never has before. The compass inside her spins endlessly, unable to point in a single direction. Before she had the Machine to guide her she was fine living in an undefined blur of places and hours, and now she’s remembering all the reasons she was so careful to never stop, never settle. She remembers what it feels like to lose everything and still be stuck.

With the Machine living in the subway, Root feels less uncomfortable decorating the little room in the back. If she’s going to be trapped anywhere, being here with Her is the best option.

There is, she acknowledges, a certain irony to being trapped in what used to be a subway station (even if it is a repair line). A place that used to be a waypoint, a hub, and is now a stationary location. It’s now a place to go, rather than pass through.

She’s almost gleeful about getting to decorate. From time to time she’s allowed herself to imagine what her own space might look like, but it’s always been a pipe dream until now. She can’t help but indulge herself in every idea she’s ever had, cramming the small space with odds and ends.

She looks at her room here and thinks about Shaw’s old apartment, how different it was in every way from the garishness she’s created. She likes her new space, and she can’t help but wonder what Shaw would make of it. Because even though she finally has a room to call her own, she still feels like she’s in flux, that she hasn’t arrived at her stop yet.

Shaw won’t go back to the subway station, afraid Samaritan will track her there, use her to get to the rest of them, to the Machine. They stay in hotels, empty apartments, in one of Harry’s safe-houses. Shaw doesn’t like staying in the same place two nights in a row.

“You finally settle down somewhere and I drag you away,” Shaw says. They’re in a hotel that Root has already forgotten the name of and Shaw’s staring out the window. She does that a lot now; Root wonders how long she went without having a window.

“I don’t mind.” She doesn’t, though Shaw looks unconvinced. “But wait til you see my setup in the subway. I think the shag rug and lava lamp were a bit too much for the boys. Harry was appalled.”

Shaw almost smiles, a small victory for the night. “Sounds like you. Must be a nice change, having somewhere to go back to.”

Root comes over to sit next to her on the edge of the bed, leaves just enough space so Shaw won’t feel crowded.

“You know, I didn’t have anything to go back to for a long time, most of my life, really. It never bothered me until I found something and then lost it.”

Shaw turns her head towards her, confused. “The subway? You guys get evicted at some point?”

“I didn’t mean the subway.”

“Oh.” Shaw looks back out the window. “Oh.”

Shaw finally falls asleep that night, the first time she’s able to without taking something. She’s lying so close to her, almost touching, and her breath is warm against Root’s arm.

The compass in her mind has settled, come to rest. The bus she got on all those years ago has finally rolled into the last stop and she’s reached her destination.

(Big thanks to @heyjenocide for graciously beta-ing this for me).

[ciathyzareposts]

Game 347: Mirai (1987)

I believe these characters translate literally as “not yet come,” which is as good as any way to say “the future.”

      Mirai

Japan

Xain (developer and publisher)

Released 1987* for PC-88, PC-98, MSX, and Sharp X1

Date Started: 13 November 2019

Date Ended: 17 November 2019

Total Hours: 6

Difficulty: Moderate-Hard (3.5/5)

Final Rating: (to come later)

Ranking at time of posting: (to come later)

*Various sites have Mirai‘s releases between 1985 and 1987. I’m persuaded that its earliest release was probably 1987 for the PC-88; some of the other platforms may have followed in subsequent years.

        When I was compiling my master list, I rejected from the main list any Japanese game that didn’t originally receive a western release. This was because I assumed that everything in the game would be in Japanese, and that it would therefore take me too long to translate the text, given that (unlike, say, German or French) I can’t even type the characters into a translation tool. Yes, I realize it’s possible to use some tools by taking pictures or even scanning over the screen, but none of these are fast or accurate enough to make gameplay truly possible. I tried with The Dragon & Princess (1982) but ultimately couldn’t get anywhere without a full translation from helpful commenters.

However, I didn’t count on the fact that a number of early JRPGs were in English, or at least mostly so, even in their original Japanese releases. We’ve had some speculation as to why this was true, but nothing that’s ever fully satisfied me. Whatever the reason, I’ve been slowly re-investigating some of the titles originally rejected, to see if they are in fact playable in English. Mirai was one of those that made the cut, and it recently came up in a more-or-less random sort of my backlog.

The title means “future” in Japanese, which is why it is also the name of a Toyota hybrid sedan and a 2018 animated film about a time traveler. Several sites have translated the backstory that scrolls up the screen in katakana: It is the year 720 in the space era. Because of the destruction of the Earth’s environment, humanity is seeking other planets to which to emigrate. Seven planets have been identified in the “Reinbow Nebula,” but they are swarming with ferocious aliens. (These aliens are totally not just protecting their home.) Enter the protagonist, a legendary soldier, with his jetpack and power armor.         

The game’s primary RPG credentials are found in its inventory.

            Mirai is a side-scrolling action RPG. The player begins on Planet 1 with 200 energy, 100 fuel, and 100 cash. The joystick moves the player around, including up and down, expending fuel with every move. Energy is like hit points–when enemies attack, it depletes–but it also serves as an emergency fuel reserve.

Enemies start swarming from the game’s opening seconds, and they vary in lethality, durability, and patterns of movement. Mostly they damage you by hitting you directly, though a small number are capable of firing missile weapons. There are frog-like aliens that seem to move around randomly, colorful ships that always attack in a line, making them hard to avoid, and little flying saucers that like to swarm the moment you enter a tight corridor. You have to be quick on both the trigger and the movement keys. As with the recent Deadly Towers, once you fire your weapon, you can’t fire again until it hits something or the missiles clear the screen, so it’s important to time your fire carefully.           

Grinding outside a warp center.

            Killing enemies increases both experience and the “Shoot P” statistic. Each jetpack level has a “warp center.” Finding it is a priority. There, you can change your “Shoot P” numbers for cash, then spend cash on fuel and energy (which are relatively cheap), weapon upgrades, and special items. After some grinding on the first level, I went from a “Beam” weapon to a more powerful “Needle” weapon to a “Triple” blaster that shoots three shots in a spread every time you fire.

There are also special items to purchase. I don’t know what some of them do. “U_Jump” allows you better jumps on underground levels (more in a second); “P_Barr” creates a defensive barrier temporarily; “P_Hour” stops time for enemies temporarily. The ones I’ve figured out are useful enough that there’s a real incentive to grind for cash.            

“M_Scan” makes a little minimap of the level.

          The warp centers are also the only places to save the game. It costs 80 credits to save. I like the idea of having to pay in-game currency to save. Only a few titles have implemented such a system so far.         

Having to pay to save means the player is encouraged not to save-scum.

        Levels have occasional boss creatures. When they appear, their names show up in the lower-right screen along with their hit points. On the first level, they were flowery things called “B_ameda” that were able to shoot missiles. (Some of you Japanese-English experts tell me what all the underscores are supposed to signify.) They were also immune to the starting “Beam” weapon, so I had to upgrade before I could kill them.           

Shooting the “B_ameda” with the triple blaster.

          Killing boss creatures is necessary to activate various portals between areas of each level. Once you pass through a portal from a jetpack area, you find yourself in an “underground” area where gameplay is very different. Instead of flying around with a jetpack, you walk around, and instead of shooting enemies, you punch and kick them. It looks to me like you’re playing a female in these areas, too, although I’m not sure how that squares with the backstory.           

Near a portal to the other half of the level.

           You move around by climbing ladders and jumping from platform to platform, and the rules of both are different in Mirai than any other platformer I’ve played. You can’t grab ladders in the air, for instance. The only way to use them is to start climbing on them from the bottom. When jumping you can move latterly a little distance in the air, but not very much. It’s frankly hard to nail down the specific rules.           

Climbing a ladder, although it looks more like a vine.

          In the underground areas, all creatures are “boss” creatures, and there are only a few per level. The first one I played featured monstrous mushrooms called “Blueka” and beholder-like blobs “Dminga.” A later area had something I can’t even describe called “Norm” and little round balls with teeth called “goblins.” To fight them without losing too much health, you have to time your approach carefully, trying to punch or kick them from the rear before they have time to react. There are no warp stations in the underground areas, so you need a stock of good gear from the jetpack levels.           

The freaky “Dminga.”

         There are places where you can get stuck, unable to jump out unless you have one of the “u_jump” items from the store. These effectively double the height you can jump but also seem to make your jumps more maneuverable.

Eventually, after you’ve passed through enough portals, you meet the level boss. Special items don’t seem to work in his presence, so defeating him is a long process of learning his patterns, hitting him while his back is turned, and using jumps to avoid his missiles.             

The level boss kills me as I take this screenshot.

           Once I defeated the first boss, I found myself on the second planet. It also proved to be a trade-off between jetpack areas and walking areas, with different enemies and different bosses. Eventually, I got stuck in a small area that has a warp center but otherwise no exits. I thought maybe I’m supposed to grind here until I get enough money for one of the “U_Teleport” devices, but this warp center doesn’t sell items. Unfortunately, I saved over the only save slot at this warp center.        

This warp center has suit shops, but I’m low on cash.

         Even if there was a way to proceed, it took me about 6 hours (with quite a bit of reloading; I’m not good at action games) to reach this point, and it’s hard to see spending another 36 hours, assuming that each planet takes the same amount of time. One level, one boss sounds about right for a side-scrolling action game that barely achieves RPG status.           

Micro-bosses on Level 2 are “beetles.”

       If you’re curious about the end you can see a one-hour LP of the MSX version done by someone who cheated with maximum power-ups at the very beginning and had a map. The levels get more elaborate, the enemies more numerous and quicker, the bosses tougher, but the game remains fundamentally the same. The final boss is named Kariguls. Unfortunately, the conclusion in this particular video is in unpunctuated, poorly-translated English.            

The hardness of the world the seven two one cosmic century the war of aggression at Reinbow Nebula was brought to the end as a result of an increase in population many war had been over again I think you had a hard time of it in the case human forecast the future feel uneasy and cherish a desire but hope love and peace I wish you happiness.

              Glad we cleared up. On the GIMLET, I give it:           

1 point for a bare minimum game world, including a framing story that isn’t well-referenced in-game (who is the woman?)

1 point for the most minor kind of character development with no character creation.

0 points for no NPCs

2 points for encounters and foes. I like how JRPGs often feature boss-level creatures that force you to adjust tactics on the fly, but the implementation of that system is at its most basic here.

            The female hero fights a “mool” on Level 2.

        2 points for magic and combat. There are some minor tactical considerations in combat.

3 points for equipment, its most developed RPG area.

          I never figured out the use for some of these items.

         3 points for an economy that works well, rewarding grinding and conservation of funds.

2 points for a man quest.

1 point for a barely-acceptable interface, mediocre graphics and sound, and sluggish keys.

0 points for gameplay. This is a highly subjective category, but there wasn’t really anything I liked about it. Far too linear, far too large for its limited content, and by the second level it was already getting too hard.

          That gives us a final score of 15. I doubt even players who like side-scrolling action games would find a lot of value in this one. As for me, it’s probably my least-favorite sub-genre, and I’m going to want to see a lot more RPG and story elements (like Nihon Falcom’s Sorcerian from the same year) before I invest any more time in one.             

This ain’t no soft action RPG.

          Xain, also known as Zainsoft and Sein-Soft, published only a handful of games in its short history in the late 1980s. It is best known for Tritorn (1985) and its two sequels, which are also on my backlist and are also side-scrolling platformers. The company’s last title, 1990’s Valusa no Fukushū, is also a side-scrolling action game, but I don’t think I’d call it a “platformer” anymore.

Although side-scrolling action with platform elements isn’t what most players would later think of as “JRPGs,” it’s notable how many early Japanese entries featured these characteristics. The earliest was perhaps Xanadu: Dragon Slayer 2 (1985), although there are quite a few 1984/1985 games I haven’t yet investigated. Later ones include Sorcerian (1987), Zeliard (1987), Castlevania II (1987), The Scheme (1988), and parts of Zelda II (1988). The sub-genre is virtually unknown outside of Japan. But of course Japan had also led the way with non-RPG platformers (Donkey Kong, 1981) and side-scrolling platformers (Jump Bug, 1981, and most notably Super Mario Bros., 1985). It makes sense that some developers in that country would try to attach RPG elements to a successful template.

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/game-347-mirai-1987/

[gratex-wallpaper-blog]

20 WALLPAPER IDEAS FOR KIDS ROOMS THAT’LL MAKE YOU CLUCKY

I wanted to share some of my fave wallpaper ideas for kids rooms with you today, for two reasons.

Firstly, I never had cute wallpaper in my bedroom when I was a kid, so I need you to put some in your little one’s room so I can live vicariously through you.

We lived in rental homes for most of my childhood, so there wasn’t much of an opportunity to put my own stamp on a space. And yes, I imagine myself the kinda kid who would say to mum at seven years old, “I think we should wallpaper my room!”. Forget sports. My fave pastime was changing my room around.

Secondly, kids wallpaper is so freakin’ cute that it makes me clucky beyond belief. And what’s not to love about getting clucky?

Below I’m going to share some of my fave wallpaper ideas for kids rooms, and try not to look at surrogacy websites while I’m at it lol. Drop me comment below and lemme know which is your fave!

20 WALLPAPER IDEAS FOR KIDS ROOMS THAT’LL MAKE YOU CLUCKY

pink and blue terrazzo wallpaper ideas for kids rooms from murals wallpaper

1. PINK AND BLUE TERRAZZO WALLPAPER

This terrazzo wallpaper hit my inbox the other day and was actually the image that gave me the idea for this post. It’s a great non-typical wallpaper option for a kids bedroom and it’s full of colour.

Terrazzo may not have been a big trend in decor but I reckon it’s beyond sublime in wallpaper form. You could do just one feature wall in this paper and it would look amazing. And the added bonus is that it doesn’t feel childish at all.

claudia black and white cloud wallpaper from wallpaper direct for kids room

2. CLAUDIA BLACK & WHITE WALLPAPER

Whenever I think of wallpaper ideas for kids rooms, clouds always springs to mind. The motif is so unisex, and in a black and white colourway it stays completely chic.

This is a design that’ll last your little one a few years, from zero to at least five or six. Pair it with crisp whites or pop in some blue or pink; it’s a really easy design to make your own.

ferm living mint green diamond wallpaper ideas for kids rooms

3. HARLEQUIN MINT WALLPAPER

There’s something about mint in a kids nursery that sends my cluckiness into overdrive. People tend to love it because it doesn’t scream ‘boy’ or ‘girl’, and it pairs nicely with white, grey, brown, pink and navy.

The simple diamond shape allows you to easily hang art or other objects over the paper without it feeling too visually chaotic, either, which I love. It’s strong and yet soothing at the same time!

murals wallpaper cat wallpaper ideas for kids rooms

4. POP UP CATS WALLPAPER

Now, you know I’m a crazy cat man. So it should come as no surprise that I had to include this stunning kids wallpaper in my list of top 20.

The grey and white colour story here is wonderfully soothing for a little one’s space, but it’s filled with such a sense of fun and whimsy. If you have cats in your home, I reckon you’ve gotta give this one a go.

ferm-living-half-moon-black-and-white-kids-wallpaper-ideas

5. BLACK HALF MOON WALLPAPER

Now, you don’t normally think of a striking black wallpaper like the one above for a kids bedroom. But it can really work wonders to give the space some energy.

In this recent post I showed you how amazing a black and white nursery/kids bedroom could be, and this was the actual wallpaper used in that design. This is also a great way to carry a Scandi vibe into your little one’s room if the rest of your house is decked out in this style.

murals wallpaper baby clouds and moon wallpaper ideas for kids rooms

6. BABY CLOUDS AND MOON WALLPAPER

As I mentioned above, I think clouds are great in a kids room. But if you want to keep the look of the wallpaper design softer and easy on the eye, opt for a colour palette like the one above.

This wallpaper will bring a sense of calm to a nursery or kids room, and can stay with them for about five years or so.

murals wallpaper grey mountains wallpaper ideas for kids room

7. BLUE AND GREY MOUNTAINS WALLPAPER

If you’ve got a bit of an adventurer on your hands, perhaps working with their energetic nature is a good idea. Why not sprawl this fun design over their bedroom wall and encourage their imagination to run wild?

If you want to bring some blue tones into the space, this is a good way to start. And you can build on the look by introducing blue bedding or rugs to tie it all together.

This wallpaper is still fairly calm in its overall palette but it’s eye-catching enough that it’ll make a statement.

white and blush polka dot wallpaper ideas for kids rooms these walls

8. PIPER WALLPAPER

I’ve always had a bit of an obsession with a polka dot pattern. Don’t you just love the playful nature they bring to a space?

What I especially love about this design (apart from the dreamy colour story) is that the print itself won’t date. This will look just as good in a little girls nursery as it will when she turns ten.

There’s nothing better than wallpaper ideas for kids rooms that you don’t have to change up every few years. Am I right?

  natty and polly lo gold wallpaper ideas for kids rooms

9. LO SEPIA/GOLD WALLPAPER

With the floral and romance trends in full force at the moment, maybe you wanna try something daring in your little ones room. Think about it; if it doesn’t turn out as amazing as you’d hoped, at least it’s not in your living room!

Seriously though; you couldn’t possibly regret laying this wallpaper down in your kids bedroom. It’s soothing, it’s chic, it’s a look that’ll last for years. I’ve almost just convinced myself to put it up in my own home.

Click here to see more of this stunner.

milton and king hugs and kisses wallpaper ideas for kids rooms

10. HUGS AND KISSES

Black and white design: tick. Wallpaper with 100% cuteness rating: tick. Something the kids will love as well: tick, tick tick! This is one of my fave fun wallpaper ideas for kids rooms and I think you’re probably swooning over it too.

The design is subtle enough that you could carry it across multiple walls as well and it won’t feel too overbearing.

natty and polly modul blush wallpaper ideas for kids rooms

11. MODUL BLUSH

Now, this design might not be the first design you think of when you’re considering wallpaper for your kids bedroom. But hear me out.

The colour palette is spot on (love the blush). The pattern is wonderfully retro (left-of-centre vibes for the win). And add to that the fact that it’s mature enough to carry them into their teen years. This one is definitely worthy of your consideration.

12. MRS MIGHETTO OH CLOUD

Mrs Mighetto wallpaper has been seen a lot, I know. But that’s because it’s so utterly adorable that everyone wants it for their nursery.

The colour palette in this design is wonderfully calm, allowing you to bring in loads of texture in equally subdued tones to create a space that feels serene and tranquil.

On a sidenote, how adorable is that jute rug?

cole and sons dark blue gold stars wallpaper for kids room

13. STARS WALLPAPER IN MIDNIGHT

A lot of nursery designs go in a white and bright direction, which is 100% cute and all. But how nice would it be to create a kids room that was dark and encouraged sleep?

This navy wallpaper, strewn with glorious gold stars, would be so at home in a little boys room. You could even wallpaper just the roof and make it feel super galactic. I’m sold! Tuck me in and pass me a mug of hot cocoa.

maison gold houses wallpaper ideas for kids rooms

14. MAISON GOLD

There’s something about this wallpaper that reminds me of the UK. I don’t know why and I can’t explain it. But I feel it’d be right at home in a kids bedroom in a country home.

It would evoke dreams of trips to the city, and it’s dazzling gold and white colour story certainly brings a little luxury to the room. It is so cute and it’s making me want a baby ASAP.

love mae sleeping in the woods kids wallpaper ideas

15. SLEEPING IN THE WOODS

I love wallpaper ideas for kids rooms that evoke imagination, and this Sleeping in the Woods design would do just that.

The simple black and white colour gives this wallpaper just the right balance of whimsy and sophistication. And anything with a cute animal on it has gotta be a winner in your little one’s eyes.

stary sky wallpaper ideas for kids rooms natty and polly

16. STARY SKY IN GOLD

While the dark blue star wallpaper further up was perhaps more suited to a boys bedroom, this Stary Sky in Gold wallpaper has little princess written all over it, don’t you think?

The pattern is so spread out that it doesn’t fee cluttered at all, and it gives you all the space you need to hang artworks and other moments over the top of it. I love!

stripes anon wallpaper from these walls wallpaper ideas for kids rooms

17. STRIPES ANON

Blue and white is a timeless colour combo, and when it’s giving off nautical vibes like this, it sends my heart racing into overdrive.

I love the hand-painted feel this striped design has as well. And I love that it’d look just as divine in a two year old’s room as it would a 15 year old’s room. Timeless and sophisticated, and perfectly imperfect.

mint green swans wallpaper ideas for kids rooms natty and polly

18. SWANS WALLPAPER IN MINT

While this wallpaper design feels serene and low-key, I feel there’s also a sense of luxe in there. Perhaps it’s thanks to the gorgeous crowns the swans are wearing, but it feels sophisticated, don’t you think?

This design also comes in pink, so you can turn the colour up a notch if you wish to.

milton and king beach house wallpaper ideas for kids rooms

19. UNDER THE SEA

So we’re getting toward the pointy end of my list of wallpaper ideas for kids rooms, so we’re upping the ante a bit. This Under the Sea design certainly takes guts to commit to, but I believe your bravery will be rewarded.

The dazzling design is probably best suited to applying to a feature wall on its own, rather than the entire room. But boy does the blue, white and orange colour palette give you a lot of ways to bring in decor in matching tones.

wallpaper ideas for kids rooms watermelon wallpaper design

20. WATERMELON WALLPAPER

I’ve saved the best – and more daring – for last, because you’ve seriously gotta have big kahunas to rock a wallpaper this graphic. But please, I beg of you, give it a go!

Your child will think you’re parent of the year if you let them run wild with this design. And you can easily make it more mature by bringing in black and brown tones. That’ll help ground the wallpaper if you feel the space is feeling a little crazy.[Source]-https://www.tlcinteriors.com.au/homewares-furniture/wallpaper-ideas-for-kids-rooms/

Funny and attractive Wallpaper Designs For Kids Room at Gratex. Get offers from Best Kids Wallpaper Online shop in Mumbai, Navi Mumbai. Decorate your kids room with Animated, funny wall-coverings. Select from tremendous variety of kids Wallpapers.

[thomasyirawala9-blog]

What You Must Learn about Pay out As You Own.

What Modern automobile wishes you to recognize and also recognize is actually that Snapshot does not record exactly how quick you own, if you are over speeding and performs certainly not videotape where you vehicle driver to as that performs not had a GENERAL PRACTITIONER device as well. Our experts didnt speak however experienced each other a few time after time, that believed that we were extremely pulled to each other and this was tough to pull away. Weeks past and also I asked the angels if this man was my soulmate as well as to give me a sign as this injured to be other than him and I couldnt do away with the feeling. Consuming the best carbohydrates will offer you longer condition energy and also aid to combat body fat deposits storage!Your perhaps pondering if there's a simple example of the so you may miss today's brief scientific research lesson. Under these minimum specifications, if your lunch time rest is beyond TWENTY minutes, that counts as your full privilege to a break for that day. Examine out; this will definitely observe you as well as provide you fantastic feedback at the side of the time if you are definitely endure. If you are actually not showing your lover that he or she is special to you then you leave behind the door vast open for certainly not merely frustration and also uneasiness, but for somebody else to give them the focus they hunger for. An important area of Pop or even Rock music is actually knowned as the bridge, which provides audiences a break off the verse-chorus, verse-chorus design. Essentially a rest every 60 minutes is good, however simply if students follow just five-ish mins. To conclude I would certainly claim that in your pursuit to cease cigarette smoking are sure that is just what YOU prefer at a time that is right for YOU. The fact is that males generally crack up with a girl since they exhibit a pattern from behaviour that the companion is not delighted with, as well as no more wishes to tolerate. Taking down defense kind of defeats the item of possessing carpets and also therefore our team recommend warm water removal carpeting cleansing to quit the wear as well as soiling. Then the temper, resorts to soul breather as well as unhappiness as well as you end up being hopeless to obtain your ex lover back. In instruction for muscle building, I may not acquire up on phase and also tell the judges to offer me a rest due to the fact that I have had a knee switched out. You have to recognize exactly what you need to carry out and what you shouldn't carry out, specifically shortly after the split. You don't want to create the errors most women will make following the separate. Mistakes that could possibly wreck any type of possibilities of receiving individual back. Also you can easily not choose any kind of slim fonts if you prefer to earn your business cards appear the way you perform. Make sure to select a more thick font as well as if you prefer to include a brand new measurement to that, you can quickly include decline shadows or even other such impacts to give it the exclusive power! For those in need of Dr.Zabaza help could contact Dr.Zabaza through email: zabazalogan @ or even better still you may give him a call +2348182620374. Quit trying to decode his behavior and also receive a guy who you don't need to operate so tough to find out. For me also, i need offer on my own a rest to be with my loved ones and also change my mind far from benefit some while at that point always keep going. Maybe that was that desire for a break that led me to present myself to the various other chaps in my ward as 'Dave: fight personal trainer as well as previous expert fighter', rather than as 'Dad Dave: Church Priest'. This indicates if you eat an intricate carb, your body will certainly break that facility carbohydrate into easy sugars and also ultimately right into blood sugar which can be used for various functionalities. In a globe with boosting awareness on psychological health and its importance, I am actually somewhat surprised that Western couldn't care less regarding aiming to aid the stress and anxiety costs from the trainees along with a rest. You will end up being more relaxed using this weight transactions strategy to take even more electrical power to your break movement. High Priest ADODO is actually truly a talented man as well as i is going to certainly not quit releasing him considering that he is actually a remarkable guy ... If you possess a problem and also you are seeking a true and also authentic incantation caster to handle all your problems for you. Recall the littles tune that the lyrics propose, and also find the key that matches your voice range in that tune. The fact is that men typically damage up along with a woman because they display a pattern from behaviour that the partner is certainly not happy with, and not wishes to allow. Putting down protection sort of defeats the things of possessing rugs as well as as a result we encourage warm water extraction carpeting cleansing to cease the damage and also messing. After that the rage, counts on center breather as well as sadness as well as you end up being desperate in order to get your ex lover back. If you still adore your ex lover, don't quit. There are effective procedures to obtain back your ex and to make them enjoy you like never ever previously. If the only selection they possessed was actually hanging around in line to obtain a buy a ticket, they will offer up going to an occasion. Maybe drop in at the Camelback Inn or even Port Beach front - or any kind of one of our various other 4,400 properties - to charge, reconnect and also go back to the workforce sensation refreshed. Naturally, the far better the vehicle driver is actually the reduced the policy is going to cost in the end yet Photo keeps track of the moments that the break was reached hard, the amount of miles tot the diver traveled to and also the number of opportunities the vehicle driver lagged the steering wheel in the time between twelve o'clock at night and 4 A.M. For me likewise, i need provide on my own a rest to become along with my family as well as switch my brain out of help some while at that point keep going. Maybe that was that desire for a rest that led me to introduce on my own to the various other gents in my ward as 'Dave: battle trainer and also past pro boxer', as opposed to as 'Dad Dave: Parish Clergyman'. This indicates if you eat an intricate carb, your body system will certainly malfunction that complex carb in to basic glucoses and also essentially into blood glucose level which can be utilized for several features. Rose is actually pausing off his personal band, Gun 'n' Roses, if you want to relieve Johnson on the rest of AC/DC's Rock or Seizure Globe Tour, after the Australian tale was actually pushed to relinquish doing music permanently or even skin long-term hearing reduction. Our company should get up and also understand that our team must be in control of our very own serendipity, certainly not awaiting the government to bail us our or give our team a handout in the form of Social Safety benefits. It provides me a rest from my fast paced routine and also permits me opportunity to review the work I've done as well as the work I have to carry out in the future. Tina B. Tessina, Ph.D. If you liked this posting and you would like to obtain additional facts regarding mountains in england [original site] kindly stop by the site. is a qualified psychotherapist in S. California considering that 1978 along with over 30 years adventure in guidance individuals as well as couples and also author of 13 publications in 17 foreign languages, including It Ends With You: Mature as well as From Dysfunction; The Unofficial Guide to Dating Once more; Money, Sex as well as Little ones: Stop Battling Concerning the Three Factors That Can easily Wreck Your Marriage, The Commuter Marital relationship, and also her most recent, Affection Styles: How to Celebrate Your Variations. I satisfied this individual (29/12/1988) and also I am actually Women (6/9/1989) I have actually been seeing/sleeping along with, on as well as off for 4 years now between various other connections (that our experts each have actually possessed, we appear to constantly end up back with eachother after the relationships our team resided in deteroriate or cease operating. Our team were therefore honored to become capable to deliver a rest to A.G. and also her other half in January to celebrate their wedding ceremony anniversary.