#of course not. i am staying very far away from any ship that's got these two running it

[shelfperson]

fiona apple, amiright?

*tosses this video into the edizzy tag like a zebra thigh into the lion's den and then skitters away*

[ryin-silverfish]

One nerd's musing about Chinese religion and "respect"

-I try to stay away from fandom discourse, but, much like how you can smell the stench from a dumpster fire without walking into said dumpster fire, I've noticed something that seemed to come up a lot in western JTTW + adjacent fandoms: "respect Chinese religion".

-Usually as a reason for why you shouldn't ship a character, because of fucking course it's shipping discourse too.

-And my first reaction is "Man, you are taking Chinese religion too darn seriously, more than people who are born and raised in China."

-My second reaction is "I mean, most of us are atheist/agnostic by default anyways, with a good number of what I'd call 'atheist/agnostics with superstitions': people who said they were not religious, yet believed in Fengshui or divinations and burnt incense at temples for good luck."

-My third reaction: "But why do I get the feeling that when you mention 'Respect', you are thinking about something completely different?"

-Then I reread an essay from Anthony C. Yu, "Religion and Literature in China: The "Obscure Way" of Journey to the West", and the metaphorical lightbulb just lit up over my head.

(Everything below applies more to Daoism + associated folk religions, but by the time most classic Chinese vernacular novels were written, the blending of the three religions had become well and truly mainstream.)

(The conception of gods differs from dynasty to dynasty. What I'm describing here is mostly based on Ming and Qing ones; if you went back to Han or pre-Qin times, most of these would not apply.)

(I am one of the "atheist/agnostic by default" people. I just have an interest in this kind of stuff. I am also just one Chinese person, and an actual Daoist/Buddhist/Religion Studies researcher would probably have a lot more valuable information and perspective to offer when it comes to contemporary practices and worship. Like any people on the internet: take my words with a grain of salt.)

-Even in the past, when society was far less secularized, Chinese gods are not omniscient, perfect beings whose worship is a solemn, humorless affair. Some's worship are Serious Business, but that has more to do with the sort of gods they are and the patronage they enjoy, not godhood in and of itself.

-And even the ones that you are supposed to "treat seriously" are still very human. To use an analogy I've used plenty of times before: you respect and fear them in the same way you'd respect and fear an emperor's official, or the emperor himself, because if you don't, you are not gonna like the consequences.

-However, unlike Jesus, the emperor & his officials were capable of being temperamental, flawed, or an outright asshole, divine or not. Ideally, they wouldn't be, and if you were one of the "serious" believers——people who actually got an official permit, became ordained clergy, and went to live in a temple, you were unlikely to think of your gods in that manner.

-But it wasn't a complete, utter impossibility. The lower you go in the pantheon, the closer you get to popular religion, the less "serious" the gods and their worship become. By that, I mean general attitude, not sincerity of faith. You still shouldn't be rude to them, but, well, they are more likely to take a joke in stride, or participate in the "vulgar" pleasures of commoners because they weren't as bound to Confucian moral standards or religious disciplines.

-To stretch the same analogy further: you should still respect your village head, they could still give your ass a good spanking for being a disrespectful brat, but you were not obligated to get on your knees and kowtow to them like you would do in front of a provincial magistrate, the emperor's minister, or the emperor himself, nor did they have the power to chop your head off just because you were rude.

-On the other hand, the emperor would never visit a random peasant just to help them fix their broken plow or treat them to a nice meal, but your village head could, and your relationship would probably be warmer and a lot more personal as a result.

-Your respect for them was more likely to stem from the things they actually did for you and the village as a whole, instead of something owed to this distant, powerful authority you might never get to see in your lifetime, but could change its course with a single stroke of a brush.

-Now exchange "village head" for your run-of-the-mill Tudis and Chenghuangs and friendly neighborhood spirits (because yes, people worshipped yaoguais for the exact same reasons), emperor + his officials for the Celestial Bureaucracy, and you'd have a basic idea of how Chinese religions worked on the ground level.

-This is far from absolute: maybe your village head was a spiteful old bastard who loved bullying his juniors, maybe your regional magistrate was an honest, upright man who could enjoy a good drink and a good laugh, maybe the emperor was a lenient one and wouldn't chop your head off for petty offenses. But their general degree of power over you and the closeness of your relationships still apply.

-Complicating the matter further, some folk gods (like Wutong) were worshipped not because they brought blessings, but because they were the divine equivalent of gangsters running a protection racket: you basically bribed them with offerings so they'd leave you alone and not wreck your shit. Famous people who died violently and were posthumously deified often fell into this category——shockingly enough, Guan Yu used to be one such god!

-Yeah, kinda like how your average guy could become an official through the imperial examinations, so could humans become gods through posthumous worship, or cultivate themselves into immortals and Enlightened beings.

-Some immortals aren't qualified for, or interested in a position in the Celestial Bureaucracy——they are the equivalent of your hermits, your cloistered Daoist priests, your common literati who kept trying and failing the exams. But some do get a job offer and gladly take it.

-Anyways, back to my original point: that's why it's so absurd when people pull the "Respect Chinese Religion1!!1!" card and immediately follow up with "Would you do X to Jesus?"

-Um, there are a lot of things you can do with Chinese gods that I'm pretty sure you can't do with Jesus. Like worshipping him side by side with Buddha and Confucius (Lao Tzu). Or inviting him to possess you and drink copious amount of alcohol (Tang-ki mediums in SEA). Or genderbend him into a woman over the course of several centuries because folks just like that version of Jesus better (Guan Yin/Avalokitesvara).

-But most importantly, Chinese religions are kinda a "free market" where you could pick and choose between gods, based on their vicinity to you and how efficient they were at answering prayers. You respect them because they'll help you out, you aren't an asshole and know your manners, and pissing them off is a bad idea in general, not because they are some omnipotent, perfect beings who demand exclusive and total reverence.

-A lot of the worship was also, well, very "practical" and almost transactional in nature: leave offerings to Great Immortal Hu, and he doesn't steal your imperial seal while you aren't looking. Perform the rites right and meditate on a Thunder General's visage, and you can temporarily channel said deity's power. Get this talisman for your kids at Bixia Yuanjun's temple, and they'll be protected from smallpox.

-"Faith alone" or "Scripture alone" is seldom the reason people worship popular deities. Even the obsession with afterlife wasn't about the eternal destination of your soul, and more about reducing the potential duration of the prison sentence for you and your loved ones so you can move on faster and reincarnate into a better life.

-Also, there isn't a single "canon" of scriptures. Many popular gods don't show up in Daoist literature until much later. Daoist scriptures often came up with their own gigantic pantheons, full of gods no one had heard of prior to said book, or enjoyed no worship in temples whatsoever.

-In the same way famous dead people could become gods via worship, famous fictional characters could, too, become gods of folk religion——FSYY's pantheon was very influential on popular worship, but that doesn't mean you should take the novels as actual scriptures.

-Like, God-Demon novels are to orthodox Daoism/Buddhism what the Divine Comedy is to medieval Christian doctrines, except no priests had actually built a Church of Saint Beatrice, while Daoists did put FSYY characters into their temples. By their very nature, the worship that stemmed from these books is not on the same level of "seriousness" as, say, the Tiantai school of Buddhism and their veneration of the Lotus Sutra.

-At the risk of being guilty of the same insertion of Christianity where it doesn't belong: You don't cite Dante's Inferno in a theological debate, nor would any self-respecting pastor preach it to churchgoers on a Sunday.

-Similarly, you don't use JTTW or FSYY as your sole evidence for why something is "disrespectful to Chinese religion/tradition" when many practitioners of said religions won't treat them as anything more than fantasy novels.

-In fact, let's use Tripitaka as an example. The historical Xuanzang was an extraordinarily talented, faithful, and determined monk. In JTTW, he was a caricature of a Confucian scholar in a Buddhist kasaya and served the same narrative function as Princess Peach in a Mario game.

-Does the presence of satire alone make JTTW anti-Buddhist, or its religious allegories less poignant? I'd say no. Should you take it as seriously as actual Buddhist sutras, when the book didn't even take itself 100% seriously? Also no.

-To expand further on the idea of "seriousness": even outside of vernacular novels, practitioners are not beholden to a universal set of strict religious laws and taboos.

-Both Daoism and Buddhism had what we called "cloistered" and "non-cloistered" adherents; only the former needed to follow their religious laws and (usually) took a vow of celibacy.

-Certain paths of Daoist cultivation allow for alcohol and sexual activities (thanks @ruibaozha for the info), and some immortals, like Lv Dongbin, had a well-established "playboy" reputation in folklore.

-Though it was rarer for Buddhism and very misunderstood, esoteric variants of it did utilize sexual imageries and sex. And, again, most of the above would not apply if you weren't among the cloistered and ordained clergy.

-Furthermore, not even the worship of gods is mandatory! You could just be a Daoist who was really into internal alchemy, cultivating your body and mind in order to prolong your lifespan and, ideally, attain immortality.

-This idea of "respect" as…for a lack of better words, No Fun & R18 Stuff Allowed, you must treat all divinity with fearful reverence and put yourself completely at their mercy, is NOT the norm in Chinese religious traditions.

-There are different degrees and types of respect, and not every god is supposed to be treated like the Supreme Heavenly Emperor himself during an imperial ceremony; the gods are capable of cracking a joke, and so are we!

TL;DR: Religions are complicated, and you aren't respecting Chinese religions by acting like a stereotypical Puritan over popular Chinese deities and their fictional portrayals.

[ceilidho]

fear of god

prompt: There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 2 masterlist

-

How am I hearing you?

That should be the first question out of your mouth, but instead what comes out is a meek trembling of words. “E-excuse me?”

His smile doesn’t waver. “Asked if you could let me in, love. I’m a bit turned around.”

You pause for a moment to take stock of the situation. A programming that has served your species since the dawn of time quietly whispers something to you, its voice unintelligible but meaningful. The instinct to help kicks in with the man’s plea, but your own confusion stays its corresponding response. 

There’s a man outside the ship knocking on the window and you’ve never seen his face before. 

“Where did you—where did you even come from?” you ask. 

He waves a hand and it drifts slowly beside his helmet, encumbered by the lack of gravity. “Around. Lost contact with my crew and I’ve been trying to get some help ever since.”

His tone is too blasé for the situation. You’d expect fear or urgency, but he speaks as though reassuring you.

“Was there another ship nearby?” You don’t remember Graves mentioning any other ships in this sector of the solar system. With many funded by private corporations or individuals, the team might not be always privy to all ongoing missions, but the commander would have known if there was a ship within a lunar distance. 

“At some point,” he says, still smiling. Too friendly. 

It’s been months since you spoke to a man your age that you hadn’t seen drink their own piss via the ship’s recycled water filtration system. Not to shame anyone—you’re part of that statistic too—but you’ve realized in the past few weeks how far that knowledge has gone towards dampening any burgeoning attraction to anyone.  

But it occurs to you again—a thought burrowing into the recesses of your mind, like a phantom of itself, a loon call over a still lake—that you are hearing someone from outside the ship. Sound traveling through nothing; the very absence of sound. 

The thought is too big for your head, but it fits itself in anyway. It stretches uncomfortably because material reality usually wins in the end. What you can see and hear, you can trust. You know the world through what appears in front of you; that's always how it's been.

This time though, there's something you can't quite fit in your head.

“Wait, let me…let me get some help,” you tell him, taking a step away from the window. Your stomach clenches when he frowns, brows pulled together in concern.

“You sure, love? I can walk you through opening the doors if you need help. Same as my ship, I bet.” He chuckles nervously. “Been out here awhile now; not sure how much oxygen I’ve got left in the tank, if I’m honest.”

That almost gets you, but you remember protocol. For all your shortcomings, you’ve never not followed protocol. Opening the airlock and letting anyone in or out is a process strictly monitored by the commander, and you have no authority to grant anyone access without express permission. You know the access codes, of course, for security and safety reasons, but despite the sudden urgency in his voice, you haven’t been authorized to let him in. 

And then there’s the matter of—

Again, though his frame fills up most of the porthole, when you look out into the depths of space around him, you see nothing out there. You wonder if perhaps Graves purposefully omitted any mention of receiving a distress call from a ship with a lost crew member. 

It feels less than likely. 

“I’ll be back.” You take another step back, heart fluttering in your chest. “Just…wait. I’ll—”

The rest of your sentence never comes, tucked beneath your tongue. Your feet are already taking you away.

The metal floor clangs under your feet as you stumble away and down the hall towards the cargo hold. You can hear the man yell after you, his voice growing more and more distant the farther you run, until its echo lingers only in your head. 

Down the stairs and through the main corridor, you pass the medbay on your way to the cargo hold, the room at the far end of the spacecraft accessible only by descending below the orlop deck. You come galloping down the stairs so fast that you nearly trip over the last one. 

The doors to the hold slide open at your approach. Though the cargo hold on the ship isn’t as gargantuan as some you’ve seen before, it’s still big enough for your footsteps to echo across the room when you make your way inside. Crates holding the ship’s sampling gear and equipment are tied down to the floor by fiber-reinforced polymer straps and covered by heavy-duty nets. The smell of fuel and ozone is pungent, thick in the air. 

The temperature in the hold is a degree or two hotter than the rest of the ship, putting you instantly on edge. Irritable; uncomfortable. Heat clings to the grooves of your skin, sinking past the epidermis. You tug your collar out with a finger. 

“Hello?” you call out into the hold, voice reverberating off the walls.

No one responds. Perhaps Farah did come for her brother, as she mentioned earlier. It wouldn’t do for you to linger in the empty hold then, the man outside the ship still a pressing concern. 

The ceiling is banded by metal beams, ferrous pipes running up the walls to the rafters, gurgling and whistling as water passes through. You can see the shoddy workmanship in the exposed scaffolding, areas that should’ve long ago been covered up or hidden away behind walls. A pipe in a far corner overhead drips onto the concrete below. 

“Looking for someone?” a voice asks from directly behind you, and your heart jumps into your throat at the sudden sound. 

When you whirl around, Hadir stands in the middle of the cargo hold, shoulders slouched and hands stuffed in his pockets. He lifts an eyebrow at the look on your face. Though he shares some features in common with his sister, his build is entirely different; stockier, slightly softer. Round jaw to her sharp. The same widow’s peak though, and the same nose. 

“Yeah, hi—morning, by the way.” You gesture with your thumb towards the door. “I, just…this is going to sound wild, but I think I just…I think someone’s outside the ship.”

The easy look falls off his face in favor of a more serious expression. 

“Outside the ship?” he repeats in disbelief. 

“Yes, I know, but I swear. Can you just—” Frustration makes you curt. Partial embarrassment too because you know how it sounds. 

There shouldn’t be anyone outside the ship because you’re in the middle of nowhere with no other spaceships around for hundreds of thousands of miles. There shouldn’t be anything other than carbonaceous and silicate asteroids drifting outside the ship. Rubble as small as grains of sand.  

He frowns. “Did someone get locked out of the ship? Why didn’t you go get Graves?”

“It’s not—” Again, you can’t seem to find the words, the right one getting lost in translation. “It’s not someone from the crew.”

Something shifts across his face, a micro-expression that makes your throat tighten involuntarily, but he nods and follows you out of the hold. 

Nerves plague you on the walk back to the porthole. Since you lead the way, you can’t look back and gauge Hadir’s expression, but you can feel his eyes heavy on your back. Skepticism still thick in the air, so rich you can almost taste it. You can hardly blame him. Were it anyone else, you’d think them delusional too. 

The walk back feels twice as long somehow. At the top of the staircase, you breathe quietly out of your mouth in order to catch your breath without letting on how winded you are. Hadir’s footsteps echo yours, a beat off the entire walk back to the corridor you left just a few minutes ago. 

When the porthole finally comes into view, you freeze, causing him to nearly walk right into you. Any apology for the sudden halt doesn't get off the back of your tongue.

A dark, empty nothingness perforated by light in the far off reaches of space. Your throat goes dry at the sight. 

“There was someone outside,” you say. It comes out whispery thin. 

You almost don’t need him to walk up to the glass and look out, knowing already what he’ll see. It’s immediately evident, the porthole free of anyone or anything obscuring the hazy band of stars off in the distance.

There’s no way to see Hadir’s expression as anything other than concerned. He peers out of the porthole again, twisting his head to the right and left in order to see as far as the view extends. 

“I, uh…I don’t see anything out there,” he finally admits, a tad awkwardly. He has a hard time meeting your eyes. 

“Oh,” you reply, nonplussed.  

You step up to the window alongside him. Stars leak out of the blackness of space; eternal night. It’s a long way from anywhere out here. 

“He might’ve gone to another window.”

For a beat, Hadir doesn’t respond. You’re both thinking the same thing. It’s unlikely that if anyone were out stranded in the middle of space that they’d float aimlessly around their only means of salvation rather than just wait for help. 

“Maybe you just saw your own reflection,” Hadir suggests. "It happens. Freaks me out too sometimes."

The tone of voice he uses irks you; it’s vaguely placating, like he’s trying to reassure you as well as himself.

There’s nothing wrong with you though. You saw what you saw and heard what you heard. There was a man outside the porthole hovering in space and he spoke to you. 

“Yeah, maybe,” you say instead. 

You stare at the faint, runny outline of your own face in the window. No matter how hard you stare, you can’t imagine her suddenly opening her mouth and talking to you. 

When the two of you finally part ways, you head for the medbay on autopilot. The mug that was in your hand is long gone—probably accidentally put down when you went looking for Hadir in the cargo hold—and you regret not stopping by the galley for a refill. 

It bothers you that Hadir went the other way, towards the cockpit instead of back to the cargo hold. You wonder whether someone called him up before you found him. 

The medical unit on this ship is smaller than what you’re used to for interplanetary travel. They’ve supplied you with the equipment necessary for simple surgeries and nothing more; anything more complex is left to chance and divine intervention. The operating table in the center of the room comes equipped with a scanner capable of medical imaging and diagnosing. 

It’s an incredibly insular room on top of that, having been designed without windows. Not atypical for a medical bay. Though bigger than your personal quarters, you often find yourself on edge when spending any prolonged amount of time in your work station. 

For all of its flaws, the ship is equipped with a rudimentary form of artificial intelligence. It mainly assists with performing diagnostics, assisting with determining the best trajectory for the spacecraft, and enabling autonomous navigation, the latter function being temporarily suspended after the impact from the day before, but it has some use. You’re especially lucky that every computer on board gives you access to the AI, meaning that you can stay cooped up in the medical unit rather than venturing back to the cockpit where your inquiry might wind up drawing more attention to you than you’d like. 

You lean forward in your chair, a leg tucked into your chest as you flip a switch on the dashboard on the wall behind the computer and then a button on the keyword, the familiar blip letting you know to speak. 

“Ship, please scan the perimeter for any nearby foreign objects.”

Chewing your nails and staring at the computer, you watch it light up, words and symbols flashing across the screen, buttons flicking on and off on the dashboard behind it. The ship rumbles around you as it scans the surrounding vacuum of space for anything with mass. The foot still touching the ground taps, a restless twitch running through your leg. 

The blip of completion makes you jolt in your chair. 

No anomalous objects detected around ship's exterior

You press the button again. “That’s—that’s not possible, Ship. I saw someone out the window.”

When you let go of the button again, the computer goes quiet, running through another round of calculations, performing the same diagnostic again. Another distended moment of anticipation. You hold your breath until the computer beeps, the perimeter inspection complete. 

Scan complete

No anomalous objects detected around ship's exterior

The secondary confirmation makes your stomach sink. 

It’s difficult to articulate the feeling in your chest. Halfway between disbelief and unease. Perhaps a simple error in judgment, but you can’t simply look past the voice you heard from the astronaut outside the porthole. In your life, you’ve made plenty of mistakes and bad calls; you’ve run the gamut of mistakes, everything from going back to old flings to nearly misdiagnosing a patient. 

You have never seen things that weren’t there. 

Still, the reading on the screen doesn’t waver. You stare at it until your watering eyes force you to blink. 

You chew the nail of your middle finger until it tears. Sweat slicks the small of your back and the soft skin under your arms. 

“Okay,” you whisper to yourself. “Okay.”

[hughiecampbelle]

Succession Preference: Dating A Famous Singer

Requested: Can I request a preference where the Roy siblings are dating a famous singer? - anon

A/N: I hope you like it my love!!! Thank you for requesting it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Connor has no idea what you're going on about. He is very disconnected from any industry, but especially the music industry. The only new artist he listens to you and that's because you play live for him so that he doesn't have to figure out Spotify or Youtube or anything like that lol. Depending on the genre, he might not totally be into it, but overall he loves it because you made it. He tries to go to as many shows as possible and proudly shows off his VIP status so that he can get backstage to see you, always with a bouquet of flowers to congratulate you on another wonderful performance. When you career really takes off and you need to go on tour across the country/world, he's there right beside you, the whole time. He couldn't be prouder of everything you've accomplished.

Kendall listens to all types of music, so whatever genre you sing, he loves. You always get embarrassed realizing he's listening to you. Turn that off! You laugh, fighting with him over his phone. He sings you your own lyrics too, loving how you get all embarrassed. Really, he's so proud of your career. You've worked so hard and put in so much time and effort. He's never known anyone so hardworking. He was there when you were singing at bars and open mics, frustrated, close to giving up. Now you've got thousands of fans, him included. He helps you with new songs and talks to anyone who will listen about you. He loves going to your concerts and blushes every time you dedicate your songs to him. He doesn't care what his father says, that it's not a real job, a real career. He loves you and he loves your music. You love it and that's what matters.

Shiv she's so funny I love her loves to support you, but mostly from a distance. For a few years now, every few months, you've been on tour. That means different time zones, that means face timing and calling when you're both free, that means a lot of night spent in an empty bed. You know she's busy, that she can't just drop everything to fly across the world, and neither can you. It puts a strain on your relationship, but you try to lessen it as best you can. She listens to all your music and is the first in the room to proudly proclaim that yes, she is your girlfriend. When you two get together, you're all praise for the other. You, a rock-star, selling out millions of albums. Shiv, a political firecracker ready to take over as CEO. You're a power couple. She loves most to listen to you practice new songs and try out new lyrics, listening from outside the room, the sound of your voice taking away all her stress. She fell in love with that voice.

Roman baby boy stays as far from the spotlight as possible. Your relationship isn't really public. Not that you meet in secret, but your dates are typically quieter and far from where the paparazzi can reach you. You wish he wouldn't be so shy when it came to your relationship, but you understand why. Fans are constantly shipping you with other artists, with friends, with band mates. He'd rather not get caught in the middle of that. He listens to your music a lot when he's by himself and of course has all kinds of jokes for you. Did you know that you and Harry Styles are allegedly dating? I hope he's a better kisser than I am. You and your drummer have been hooking up this entire time, haven't you? If you're not doing them, then I will soon. You know he's only kidding, telling him to shut up. You're with him, you choose him, end of story. When you're not home with him, performing or on tour, he definitely uses your music as a comfort.

[ae-neon]

Attempting to sum up my feelings and thoughts on Deadhouse Gates

4.5/5

Non-Spoilers.

What a sequel. I thought Gardens of the Moon was probably the best thing I'd ever read but somehow Deadhouse Gates was better?? Like objectively speaking the writing leveled up but also the feel of the novel was more cohesive too.

I never quite understood what people meant when they said "the setting was its own character" but from Hissar to Raraku, Seven Cities feels so real and is ever relevant to the story. It colours the pages and actions and plot in its own hue. And Erikson's layers of history and culture add a visceral and powerful weight that deepens the stories set there.

I honestly don't think I can say I read this book. I experienced it, and what an experience it was. As the fans say, I have walked the Chain of Dogs.

Once again, there is no shortage of wonder (from a ghost ship operated by the dead to a city of people turned to stone) the fantasy is as high as ever - but Erikson forced me, again and again, down to earth with the best parts of this story being the study of humanity.

Any book this grim and especially in the current political climate could come off as unpleasant or flimsy if not downright distasteful, but Erikson has left me in awe, heartbroken and shaking my head at futility but somehow never feeling hopeless. He is not trying to be dark for the sake of being dark. He is showing you humanity in all its shades.

It is not lightly that I say this book shows the actual nuance of conflict, the only way it can be: through the individual human lens. It confronts these characters with their own bias, with hypocrisy, with betrayal, with being wrong and with the humanity of their enemies and the futility of their actions.

And the characters?? Good lord, I don't understand how Erikson can have such huge but distinct characters. Even the animals have personality! Moby, Apt, the Ghral horse and of course the Wickan dogs! Felisin, Coltaine and Icarium were the standouts for me though it would be unfair not to give Erikson props for the insanity that is Iskaral Pust.

Once again, my biggest gripe boil to Erikson not being good at developing romance.

All in all, Deadhouse Gates - from it's insane prologue to the very end is a once in a lifetime experience and even if I never picked up another Malazan book (literally reading MoI rn) I would still be happy I got this far. If GoTM were not needed for context and a general understanding of Erikson's style, I would recommend Deadhouse Gates even to those who have no interest in Malazan.

Spoilers

Coltaine, Kulp and Lorn. Erikson has me 3 for 3 on killing my favourite characters. At least my Coastal Marines seem to be fine.

How so many can read this book and hate Felisin has me disappointed but not surprised. Not only was she completely valid in her feelings, but she was also hilarious in her jabs. It's so sad that one of the first memories transmitted to Felisin from Sha'ik is the implied sexual assualt at the hands of the man who raised her. And there's something so bittersweet about Sha'ik Reborn giving the name Felisin to her daughter in hopes that the girl she was and the girl she has will fair better than Felisin Paran did.

The Chain of Dogs will stay with me always. As a person who lives in the Global South/Third World and was born only 3 years into my country's independence, fear of civil unrest, war and general collapse of law and order have been very real fears in my life. I tend to stray away from documentaries and movies centered around these topics because of the anxiety it creates in me.

But Erikson never took things too far, he was blunt and honest in his portrayals - though I will say I wish we had seen more of Seven Cities natives who objected to violence and sexual assault especially as tools of war. I know that these things often happen but the same is true of objection, of restraint, of a want to see justice play out in a more lawful way.

Again, I am saying this as someone who was born into a newly independent country, so much of the immediate aftermath was trials in which families got lawful justice and acknowledgement of the wrong done to them and their loved ones under the former regime.

I am glad we got the nuance of Duiker and Kalam being natives who align more with the Empire - their reasoning is well done, nuanced and even more amazing when, in Kalam's case, he must face the possibility of viewing the Empire in a gold haze or rose-tinted glasses.

On the topic of Kalam, I will be honest and say my like of Kalam and Ben as a duo might have skewed my initial reading of Kalam and Minala's interactions, but I have never and will never be the type of person who villainizes or dislikes a female character for "coming in between" the relationship of two male characters.

I want to make it clear that I don't dislike Minala at all. However, Erikson has failed, once again, to make me believe in this romance. I don't buy Minala leaving her sister in the middle of life-changing rebellion to follow a man she barely communicated and connected with. Especially so soon after escaping her abusive husband's grasp which she only endured because it benefitted her sister.

Pearl had better chemistry with Lostara, hell, he had better chemistry with Kalam as Salk Elan than Kalam and Minala had. It would have been more believable to have Kalam stay and raise Shadowthrone's child army as a sort of repayment to Apt and Panek.

Speaking of, I always knew Kellanved/Shadowthrone was a bit...off...just from the stories he's heard but it's another thing entire to see Cotillion have doubts. VERY INTERESTING.

The Wickans piqued my interest from the moment they stopped the Red Blades at the docks but Coltaine and Bult speaking up in favour of Laseen had me instantly on their side as I never appreciated the nostalgic, boys club view that so many of our veterans had of the Laseen v Kellanved story. I always believed she would at least be fleshed out. And when Erikson had Chalice dash Crokus' idealised dreams and Murillio see the hollowness in his victory and the humanity in Simtal at the end of GotM, I knew he wasn't going to be the type of author to give us hollow, one note female characters.

Fid, Crokus and Apsalar - my darling family, also verrrry interesting that Fiddler returned to Seven Cities instead of Genabackis

Seeing as the title of the next book is Memories of Ice, I was immediately entrigued by the glimpses of Jaghut and Imass history we got. I LOVED Lorn and Tool in GotM so getting more on the T'lan Imass but especially on otataral was such a treat.

I was, in some ways, mentally prepared for Coltaine to die as part of him being this larger-than-life figure and inevitable tragic hero BUT I will never forgive Erikson for Kulp WHYYY

I cried through Mappo's confession to Icarium but I was already bawling at Duiker leaving the remains of the 7th behind to see the refugees to Aren. I took a ten minute break from reading after the gates closed, thinking that was the end of it. But Erikson had more in store for me and I was almost as wrecked by grief as Nil and Nether at end of chapter 21 and I set the book down for a day and half, once again foolishly thinking that was the end.

Malazan fans say "you walked the Chain of Dogs" but, tbh, it dog-walked me, I was wrecked.

PS

I love how everyone in the book and even me in this rambling review, completely brush past Heboric pulling Fener onto the mortal plain. I found otataral interesting just from Lorn's sword but this has brought me a million questions

[junowritings]

Hello! If you could do another matchup with Gale, since you mentioned that you nearly shipped me with him too, I'd really appreciate it! Thanks so much sweetie ^-^

I'm an autistic girl who also has adhd, asthma and chronic joint pain. I work as a librarian currently and am simultaneously very smart and scholarly and also full of energy. I'm definitely the sunshine person in a group, I love taking care of people and I'm very good at making other people laugh, I have a very dry witty sense of humor. I'm also super short, 4' 10"/147 cm, but I can get kinda insecure about it when dating. I have a very boyish style, long wavy auburn hair that floofs up around my head, glasses and I'm pale and covered in moles and freckles. I also love being out in nature, and if I can't be I bring nature to me, I have tons of houseplants.

Thank you so so much, have a great day!!

Sorry this took so long hun! Had to take a quick break from working through matchups but I'm hoping to get a couple more done so thanks so much for your patience on this~!

With that being said here's how I think things could go with...

I know we talked about how Halsin would appreciate you, but we know who else would love you - Gale!

The lovestory here damn near writes itself, especially given your current occupation. I mean where better for Gale to stumble upon love than a place teeming with potentially valuable and intriguing knowledge? More than likely this is where the two of you first cross paths - perhaps he’s come in looking for information on whatever subjects got his head racing with a thousand and one questions that need answers; or maybe he’s searched high and low for a specific subject material and this is his next stop in the hopes of finding it. Whatever it is, the guy comes for books, and stays for you. Because gods if his first meeting with you doesn’t stop the wizard in his tracks.

Your sharp mind is absolutely the first thing that draws him to you. You match his conversation topics and questions with a certainty and enthusiasm that speaks highly of your quick wit. You’re eager to indulge him as well, a welcoming ear to pass the time as you work,and because you seem to actually enjoy listening to him talk. Perhaps he gets a little carried away talking your ear off, but you don’t mind do you? What really gets him in the end is the smile that you flash at him before he leaves. That smile of yours is blinding, like the sun itself crinkles in the corners of your eyes and the curve of your lips when it's directed at him.

Of course he finds excuses to come around after this, both before and after you’re together. If it’s before then it’s all under one pretense or another.  Oh, he just so happens to be out of interesting reading material! Perhaps you could recommend some to him? Or he needs some help finding a specific tome and the aisle that it’s located in (as though this man doesn’t know any library like the back of his hand by like the third visit - I mean this is Gale we’re talking about.) Even after you pair get together he’ll make a point to come and see you, but he’s far less subtle about wanting to do it just to see you - spending time with you on your breaks and departing with a kiss or two as an incentive to help you get through the rest of the work day. 

Okay this is a personal hc but I’m pretty sure that Gale often deals with joint and back pain himself, so he understands a little of what you’re experiencing. When the chronic pain becomes overwhelming he’ll insist on you resting, attempting to ease the aches in your joints as best as he can with the stuff he keeps on hand at home. Goes overboard with research into spells that could help to offer a modicum of relief for your pain, or find a potionmaker who can give you something to ease the severity of the discomfort that you’re in. Whatever it takes to take some of that pain away from you Gale will do it - he can’t help but worry that whatever he’s doing isn’t enough sometimes but the sheer care this man puts into your wellbeing means a lot.

You say you love making people laugh, but you know what Gale loves more? Hearing you laugh. He’ll always throw in your jokes with a couple of his own; granted most of them are groan-worthy and some downright terrible, but so long as they get a smile out of you he considers it a job well done. Just about melts at the sound of your laughter, as though your laugh alone is enough to make him fall all over again. Gets this love struck puppy look in his eyes drinking in the sight, but he will fluster if you ask him what he’s looking at.

Another guy who understands that while it’s a sweet thing that you enjoy caring for others, sometimes you’ve got to take some time to yourself. If Gale sees that you’re potentially overworking yourself he’ll just straight up guide you away from it, gently assuaging your protests or worries with assurances that whatever you have to finish will always be there once you return. That being said he is a huge hypocrite of losing time in his own work and needs to be reminded sometimes that he needs to take breaks, so hopefully you’ve got that down pat with the tactics you know to lure him away from what he’s doing. Also Gale strikes me as the kind of partner who would come prepared with the little things that come through in a pinch. Considering you wear glasses I just know that he’d carry some cleaning cloths for them around for you. You don’t always need the kinds of things he brings along, but the little proud ‘aha!’ he lets out when you do need them is just too cute. 

Another 👏freckle����appreciator👏. He’ll try to be smooth, pointing out patterns on your skin that match constellations and patterns in the stars that he recognizes, offering to trace the shape of them along your freckles to show you the similarity. Really it’s an excuse to cuddle up next to you and bask in your warmth as his fingers glide over every freckle and mole that you’ll allow him to touch. Good luck if you’re ticklish; he'll try to feign innocence if you laugh or squirm when his hand slides over any ticklish parts, but there’s no way he can keep a straight face about it, trying to hide his smile in the crook of your shoulder.

Gale is very much a ‘bring the nature to him’ kind of partner, in the sense that he’s far more on board with bringing the aspects that you love from the outside back into a far more familiar environment. And who doesn’t love being able to nurture your love of nature in the comfort of you own home? He’s had one or two plants at his home that are mostly self-sustaining, but as time goes on and you begin to integrate yourself more and more with his life, this number will quickly multiply. Hanging plants become especially prevalent throughout the entirety of his home, both because they don’t run the risk of accidentally being knocked over, and because the life they breathe into the place makes his tower feel a lot homier and cozy. Will tell you now that Gale WILL have plant favorites - he will get invested in its care and will keep that thing on his favorite windowsill with adequate access to necessities. (you may have also caught him using his magic a couple of times to give the lil thing a boost when he thinks you’re not looking - a fitting use for a master of the weave I’m sure.)

[screechthemighty]

Me @ me: maybe these chapters would go a lot faster if you didn't take every chance you had to write plot-irrelevant witty banter between these idiots Also me @ me: but. the sillies. Anyway, sorry this took so long, in my defense it is a very lengthy chapter and a lot happens. Also, sorry to the one person who voted in my poll, but you were not correct about the Thing That Does Not Occur. The thing you voted on may or may not happen later, though. Anyways!

the unknowable tomorrow: a tristamp fanfic part fifteen: meryl and wolfwood

.

cws: pandemic, religious/cult trauma and religious cults, grief, brief mention of strangulation

.

The first thing he noticed was the smell of gunsmoke, and the second was a town surrounded by a very robust barricade. None of the situations Vash had found himself in so far had been great, but something told Wolfwood that this one was going to take the cake.

“Do you hear that?” Meryl said.

Wolfwood listened carefully. The crunch of footsteps and the sound of someone talking to themselves was familiar. “There’s our man,” he said. “Stay close.”

Meryl nodded. She had one hand on her Derringer already. Smart girl.

They moved carefully towards the sound of Vash’s voice. “…and listen, I know we started off on the wrong foot, but I really feel like we can work this out. I…” His voice cracked, and a manic giggle slipped out of him. “Oh, this was a bad idea, bad stupid idea, Vash…”

“Psst!” Wolfwood hissed before leaning around a piece of ancient debris. “Vash!”

Vash spun around. He wasn’t hurt, but the dark circles under his eyes said he hadn’t slept in a week. Even the way his face lit up when he saw them couldn’t hide how exhausted he looked. “Oh, I am so…wait, have you two had dustlung before?”

Ah, crap. “Yep. I’m immune,” Wolfwood said.

“I am, too,” Meryl said. “Has there been an outbreak?”

Vash nodded and pointed towards the barricade. Wolfwood noticed that he had two bandannas tied to his upper arm, one black, one blue. “They’re still in the middle of one. They’ve got it under control, but that’s not the issue.”

“The fatal lung rot isn’t the issue?” Wolfwood repeated flatly.

“Nope!” Another manic giggle escaped Vash as he gestured for them to come closer. “They are. Kind of.”

Wolfwood and Meryl joined Vash. There was a group camped out in front of the barricaded town. It looked like they were setting up for an attack or a siege. “The settlement was built over a wormfall,” Vash explained, “so they’re set for treatment. But these guys came from a town with another outbreak…”

“And the wormfall guys don’t want to share?” Wolfwood finished.

“More like they can’t. They’ve been picking away at the worm for a while now. Whatever’s left can get their people through a full treatment course, but…”

Meryl raised her hand. “Refresh my memory, here,” she said. “The best treatment for dustlung involves a fungus mostly found in great worm corpses, right?” Vash nodded. “If it’s just a fungus and they have access to the corpse, can’t they cultivate more?”

“They’ve tried, but it’s finicky,” Vash said. “Even Ship Three has trouble, and they’ve been researching it for years. And it grows too slowly to be help in an emergency.” Vash started pacing again. “The new group came for help, but the settlement still has a lot of sick people. They can’t spare much. I was going to see if they’d accept enough for an incomplete treatment course, but that still leaves them at risk.”

Wolfwood grimaced. He remembered when it had gone around the orphanage. They’d all gotten partial treatment, and he’d been one of only three not to have long-term problems. One had died later from a different infection his body was too weak to fight off. “So, it’s a standoff,” he said.

“Unfortunately. They already tried negotiating once and it didn’t go well. The new guys think the townspeople are lying about how much is left, and the town council didn’t want to give them even a little at first. They could change their minds at any time…” Vash sighed. “And I don’t even know if the new group will talk to me. They could try to invade and take it all.”

A no-win scenario. Wolfwood thought back to their conversation a few jumps ago, and how much it sucked being right. “Okay,” Meryl said thoughtfully. “Here, let’s figure this out.” She pulled out her notebook. “Do you have figures on how much of the fungus is left?”

“Not concrete ones. They wouldn’t give me that. But I can guess.” Vash crouched next to Meryl as they started talking math. Wolfwood kept one eye on the new guys as they did. The other group was staying put for now, but all the signs were there: they could, and probably would, invade if they wanted to. He found himself scanning the town and wondering how long its defenses would hold.

He wasn’t sure it would be very long. And depending on how much of the town was sick…

Wolfwood was starting to wish he had a vial or ten. And a bigger gun. And backup that wasn’t so softhearted. Though I reckon we won’t have to kill anyone, just hold them off until them getting the medicine is a moot point…not that I think Vash has it in him to do that, either…

“Okay, I think that’s everything,” Meryl said. “Except…how are you going to explain where we came from?”

“We’re near a pretty well-travelled route. I can always say I saw you passing by.” Vash stood back up. “I don’t know how dangerous this is going to be…”

Meryl started marching towards the camp. “I’m not worried about it,” she called over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Vash glanced Wolfwood’s way. Wolfwood responded with a shrug. “Hey, I’m not going to talk her out of it,” he said. “You saw how she clobbered me last time.”

Vash laughed weakly and started after Meryl. “Yeah, good point.”

Wolfwood took up the rear, rifle ready, even though he desperately hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

.

She’d been outwardly confident for Vash’s sake, but Meryl’s nerves were in high gear as they approached. These people clearly meant business: they were all armed to the teeth, some in makeshift body armor, and had desperate looks in their eyes.

Desperation could be even more dangerous than outright malice. She knew that now.

“Hi!” Vash called to some of them as he jogged to catch up to her. “I, uh, don’t know if you remember, but we tried to talk…”

Several guns were leveled at them immediately. Wolfwood went to raise his own rifle, but Vash stopped him. “…and I want to try again,” Vash finished, his tone still hyper-cheerful. “There’s no need for all of this.”

“Have they decided to stop bullshitting us?” asked one person, a darker-skinned man who looked just as exhausted as Vash. There was a slight rasp to his voice that said he was getting over a dustlung infection himself. Meryl was honestly surprised he wasn’t bedridden; her case had been comparatively mild, and she’d been out long enough that a few people thought she’d switched schools. “Because we’re not playing around anymore.”

“I didn’t think you were. We’re not playing around, either. We have numbers we can show you.” He gestured towards Meryl. “Lots of math.”

Meryl nodded. They were lucky; Vash knew the history of the place and they’d been able to extrapolate from there how much of the fungus would be left if they’d followed standard harvesting and cultivation procedures. None of the numbers were official, but hopefully it would be enough to convince the group that they weren’t being shortchanged. “We won’t take up too much of your time,” Meryl added.

The group looked skeptical of her and Wolfwood (especially Wolfwood), but Meryl noticed they seemed a bit more accepting of Vash. Granted, they still had a gun trained on him, but it was only one gun, and the guy holding it didn’t look too ready to pull the trigger. “…fine,” said the sick man, “but only because you’ve been straight with us so far.”

The man, whom Vash addressed as James, gathered up the rest of the group to hear what they had to say. Meryl stuck close to Vash and hoped it didn’t turn into a repeat of the oil fires. Vash laid out the math they’d worked out, showing them Meryl’s notebook as he did. Only two people actually double-checked their math; those two whispered between each other as Vash finished up his pitch. “…so they’re really not lying,” he said. “What they offered is all they can spare. It was a big ask to convince them to spare that much. They risk running out themselves if more people get sick and their cultivation program is already stretched thin. They have to think about the future, too.”

He sounded convincing to Meryl, but she wasn’t so sure the others bought it. “You said that these numbers are just your projections,” James said. “You’re sure there’s nothing that might’ve given them more to work with? Extra cultivation you don’t know about or anything?”

“I…well, no,” Vash admitted. “They didn’t let me check out the wormfall personally. I don’t think they’d have any reason to keep that from me, though.”

“You’re an outsider. That’s plenty of reason far as I’m concerned.”

Damn it, that was a good point. “I can try to get access to the wormfall and see,” Vash said, “but I can’t think of anything they’d do to make their cultivation more efficient. All the equipment and techniques I know about – “

“You know about. But you don’t know everything, right?”

“I know a lot more than you’d think.”

“At your age?”

Vash laughed nervously. “Uh…how old do you think I am?”

Wolfwood sighed. “Look, you can grasp at straws and fairy tales all you want, but this is your most likely reality,” he interjected bluntly. He faced the two people who’d double-checked their work. “Am I wrong?”

“Er…no, the math checks out,” one of them admitted. “If it were us, I’d be nervous about outside distribution, too.”

No one liked that answer, but they mostly expressed that through irate glances at the town. Meryl was still bracing herself to have to jump to Vash’s defense, but so far, they didn’t seem to want to shoot the messenger. Good. That’s good. Maybe they’ll still be willing to listen…

“If that’s the case, you should probably go,” James said finally. “We’ve got some things to consider.”

“Right, yeah, of course. Talk it out. We can…” Vash flinched when James suddenly started stepping towards him. “…uh, I mean…”

“Can I have a word?”

Meryl straightened up, and saw Wolfwood do the same. “Anything you want to say to him, you can say to us,” Wolfwood said sternly.

James’s face hardened. Vash was quick to intervene: “It’s okay. They’re actually friends of mine from out of town. I ran into them on the way and they volunteered to help, too. They’re good people.”

James examined them both. “When I say you should go,” he said finally, “I mean you should get out of town. For your own good.”

…oh.

Vash took a deep breath. “What are you planning?” he said quietly.

“Nothing a guy like you wants to be involved in.” James patted Vash on the shoulder. “Listen, you seem like a good guy. I get that you want to help. But I’m not gonna ask you to pick a side one way or another. This isn’t your fight. Look after yourself first.”

He was giving that advice to the wrong person. Meryl knew that Vash was incapable of looking after himself first—even the times he ran away from a fight were to prevent others from being hurt, not so much to save himself. James didn’t realize that, though; he was too busy walking back to his group to notice the horrified look on Vash’s face.

Wolfwood noticed, though, and responded to it with a heavy sigh. “Come on,” he said quietly.

“We…we have to talk them out of it…”

“Look at their faces. They’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” Meryl could see it, too. Their faces had looks of grim inevitability. Vash’s words had only served to make them sure of their decision. “Nothing you can do about it. Come on.”

Vash stared at the group for another moment before following. There was a distant look in his eyes, though it wasn’t just one of dread. He was thinking hard. She could see his eyes darting back and forth as they walked back to the road, as if he were trying to select from different options.

It didn’t seem like any of them were good.

“If we warn the town,” he said quietly, “then they might want to strike first. Then more people will get hurt. But if we don’t say anything…”

“People are gonna get hurt regardless,” Wolfwood said. It seemed that he had been doing some thinking of his own from how steady and certain his words were. “Did you leave anything important back there?”

“What?”

“Can you get it without tipping anyone off?”

Vash’s face finally looked horrified. “You want to just leave?”

“What else are we supposed to do? If you don’t want to pick a side, the only reason you’d stay is to get yourself hurt and then self-flagellate about all the people you watched die.”

“Wolfwood!” Meryl gasped.

“What? Am I wrong?”

“You’re being an ass,” Meryl snapped before turning her attention back to Vash. “Do you think if the town council knew there was a real threat, they’d be willing to negotiate more? Or are you sure they’d strike first?”

“They’ve already started figuring out rationing for a siege. Most of them would take an attack as an excuse to withdraw support entirely,” Vash said. He started pacing again, his hands clenched into fists. “Damn it.”

Damn it, indeed.

Wolfwood watched Vash with a tense jaw and an exasperated expression. “Look, I will drag you out of here if that’s what it takes.”

Vash whipped around to glare at him. “Don’t you dare touch me,” he said. Wolfwood’s eyebrows shot up. “Nico, I mean it.”

“Okay, okay. Vash are you…?”

The sound of a truck horn made all three of them jump. They’d been so busy talking that they’d missed an approaching convoy. They got out of the way. Meryl noticed how Vash kept his distance from both of them.

That had been a strong reaction to what was probably a hyperbolic threat. He’d flinched earlier when James had tried to touch him, now that she thought about it. “Are you okay?” Meryl asked as the trucks drove by.

Vash hesitated before deflating. “No,” he admitted. “I haven’t gotten a lot of sleep and I’ve been helping around the hospital. I think it brought back bad memories…feel like my skin’s going to crawl off if anyone gets too close. Not your fault.” He glanced Wolfwood’s way. “Nico, I’m sorry.”

The tension in Wolfwood’s face melted away. “You don’t have to apologize for that,” he said. “No dragging. Promise. But I stand by the rest of…”

“Bastards!” They all jumped again at the furious scream. “Sons of bitches…!’

A few members of James’ group were screaming after the trucks. “Were they from town?” Meryl asked.

Vash shook his head. “It’s probably a supply convoy going to July City,” he explained. “I get why they’re so angry. July is right next door and they haven’t done anything.”

Meryl suppressed a shudder at the detail. “No help at all?”

“Nothing. They stopped returning alert calls and threatened to shoot any refugees from infected towns.” Vash looked visibly disgusted. “I’d understand if they wanted to protect their own citizens, but they took it too far, threatening to shoot.”

Meryl hummed in agreement. When she glanced Wolfwood’s way, he was still staring after the truck. He had his sunglasses back on, so she couldn’t see his eyes, but the tightness of his jaw made her nervous. “How far away is July?” Wolfwood asked.

“A couple of hours on foot, less on wheels or a thomas. And I haven’t felt Nai in the area, anyway. I’m okay here.”

Wolfwood kept staring after the truck. He started rubbing his heel against his bruised shin, as if it itched him. Meryl reached for his arm; he started at the near-touch, and didn’t relax much when he registered it was her. “I don’t think okay is the right word,” he said. “Look, you want me to try taking a stab at those guys alone? Metaphorical stab. Might be able to get them to see reason.”

Vash raised an eyebrow. “They’re pretty closed off…”

“And I’m an asshole who gets where they’re coming from. Give me five minutes. You watch town and make sure they don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be right back.”

Vash still looked nervous, but he nodded. “Okay.”

Wolfwood held out a hand when he saw Meryl step towards him. “Stay here. Keep him out of trouble.”

Vash frowned. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Clearly you do, otherwise we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I…” Vash thought about it, then sighed dramatically. “I guess.”

Meryl saw Wolfwood’s point, too, but she couldn’t help feeling suspicious. Something about this didn’t sit right with her, but she couldn’t articulate the feeling enough to protest. “Yell if you need help,” she said.

“Trust me, you’ll know if I do.” Wolfwood slung his rifle back over his shoulder. “Can I have my lighter?” Vash pulled it out and tossed it to him; Wolfwood caught it easily. “Thanks.” He lit a cigarette as he started walking back towards the group. “Be back in a minute.”

Meryl waited until Wolfwood was a good distance away before turning to Vash. “How good is your hearing?” she asked.

“I…” Vash’s cheeks flushed pink. “He knows what he’s doing, right?”

“Didn’t he punch Brad?”

“I…yeah…” Vash started after Wolfwood, his teeth worrying away at his lower lip. “Yeah, he did.”

Wolfwood had reached James by that point and started chatting with him with his back to them. Not knowing what he was saying drove Meryl crazy, but the guilty look on Vash’s face made her dial it back. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable,” she amended. “He’s just…not really the negotiating type, so I was curious.”

“I understand what you mean, but…honestly, I’m sick of negotiators.” Vash huffed bitterly. “They probably are, too.”

That was fair, she supposed. That didn’t stop Meryl from watching Wolfwood more carefully than she watched Vash. His body language hadn’t changed: still his usual slouch, hands in his pockets, deceptively casual. James was a bit harder to read. It looked like he was listening, and he didn’t seem hostile. He wasn’t any more tense than he was before. So, the conversation was going well, but…

Wolfwood suddenly turned around and waved to them. Vash took off like a shot, Meryl close behind. “You trust me, right?” Wolfwood said as Vash got closer.

“I…” Vash tilted his head. “Yeah, of course I do.”

“So you can vouch that I’m not just some bullshit artist, right?”

Vash nodded and turned to James. “I do vouch for him. Really.”

That seemed a bit overgenerous to Meryl, but she tried to keep that feeling to herself. It seemed like Wolfwood might have been making some progress, and she didn’t want her complicated feelings about him to ruin that. James looked at Vash, then examined Wolfwood’s face carefully. Whatever he saw there, it made him turn back to Vash. “Do you think,” he said carefully, “you can still get us the amount we discussed previously?”

Vash’s face lit up. “Yes! Yes, I definitely can. I’ll go right now.”

“We’re not going anywhere until we get it. But…we’ll take it.”

“Okay! Okay. I’m sorry, I know it’s not much, but…”

“Vash.” Wolfwood waved a hand in front of his face. “Burning daylight, here.”

“Right! Right, of course, sorry…” Vash started for the road, so fast he almost tripped. “We’ll be right back!”

Meryl started after him, but slowed down when she realized James had pulled Wolfwood back to mutter something in his ear. Whatever it was, Wolfwood only rolled his eyes in response. “Yeah, yeah, tough guy. Give it a rest.” He shrugged the hand off his shoulder and started walking. “What’s this planet coming to? Shit…”

Meryl glanced warily at James as she and Wolfwood walked away. “What did you say to them?” she asked.

“We had a friendly discussion about the risks of starting a fight when you can barely stand,” Wolfwood said calmly. “They’re desperate, not stupid. They just needed a firmer hand to remind them what’s at stake.”

All of that sounded plausible, but Meryl still wasn’t sure she bought it. Maybe it was her still-lingering mistrust of him after July, but something about this situation felt off. “That’s all?”

“Yes, Miss Nosypants, that’s all.”

“Miss…? Wow. Real mature.” Wolfwood grinned at her. “I don’t know how you’ve convinced anyone of anything. Ever.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.” Wolfwood snatched her hat off her head and jogged forward to plop it onto Vash’s. “Stay focused, Stryfe. We’re not out of the wastes yet.”

If Vash hadn’t been there, slowing down to give Meryl her hat back with a cheerful smile, she would’ve kicked Wolfwood again. Instead, Meryl nursed her disbelief and kept as close an eye on Wolfwood as she could.

They had to stay outside the town gates while Vash went back inside for the fungus. The townsfolk watching from the tops of the barricades all looked pretty distrustful; Meryl tried look casual and unthreatening, but it was hard with so many eyes on her. Wolfwood remained calm and quiet throughout the wait. The only sign that anything might be wrong was that he started chain smoking, only stopping when Vash emerged with a box in his hands. Then again, Wolfwood chain-smoked at the slightest inconvenience, so that didn’t mean too much.

They passed off the fungus to James. His group packed up and left without a shot fired or another exchange with Wolfwood. Vash waited until they were specks on the horizon before he flopped to the ground, a relieved laugh escaping his lips. “That,” he said, “was scary.”

Wolfwood grunted in agreement and lay down in the dirt next to him. “I’m just glad they saw reason.”

“Yeah.” Vash rolled over so his face was pressed into Wolfwood’s shoulder, muffling his next words. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Wolfwood wrapped an arm around Vash and raised an eyebrow at Meryl. See? the look seemed to say. Vash trusts me. Vash doesn’t think I lied.

That was big talk coming from someone who thought Vash was too trusting, but Meryl kept that to herself. Instead, she scanned their surroundings. “Well, I don’t see a portal,” she said as she sat down next to Vash. “Do you need more help in town?”

“Probably. If you’re comfortable. Most people are starting to improve, but there’s still more sick than healthy in town, so…” Vash rolled back over so he could look at Meryl while still staying nestled at Wolfwood’s side. “Every little bit helps and all.”

Meryl smiled and held out her hand. He took it carefully with his prosthetic. She was surprised how cool his fingers still were, even after so much time outside. “It sure does.”

Vash started to sit up, but Wolfwood tugged him back down. “Five minutes,” he said. “You need floor time.”

“Isn’t that something babies do?”

“That’s tummy time. Not the same thing. Everyone needs to lie on the floor sometimes. It’s good for you.” Wolfwood lifted his head enough to look at Meryl. “You, too.”

Meryl rolled her eyes, but lay down next to Vash. The sand was tightly compacted from James’s group camping out there. Vash kept holding her hand as he hummed contently.

She hadn’t expected lying in the dirt to feel so peaceful, but it was.

It was longer than five minutes before they got up, but Vash did seem a lot calmer. They dusted themselves off before heading back into town. “So, uh, what fake names are you using?” Vash asked as they got closer. “Are you using fake names?”

Good question. Meryl decided that other people knowing who she was probably wouldn’t be safe, especially when it felt like they were getting closer to her actual birthday. (She tried not to think about that too hard.) “I can be Claudia again for now,” Meryl said.

“Brad,” Wolfwood said with a deadpan expression.

“Wh-“ Vash laughed. “You can’t be Brad!”

“Why not? He’s not here, and it’s better than when you named your bird after him.”

Vash kept giggling. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The process of getting them inside wiped the smile off of Vash’s face. He had to spend a worrying amount of time insisting they were friends of his, here to help, promise, before all three of them were let in and allowed to register. Once they put their names down—Claudia Smith for her, Brad Thomas for Wolfwood because he was an asshole who thought he was funny—they were given black and blue bandannas and told, very sternly, to wear them at all times while in town. “What for?” Wolfwood asked skeptically.

“They’re tracking exposure,” Vash said. “You’ve been around me, so technically you’ve been exposed…” He tapped the black one, then the blue one. “…and you were immune before the outbreak. Just keep a safe distance from anyone in white or red. They’re at higher exposure risk. The quarantine zone is that way, but that’s only for the people who are actively sick.”

“You’ll make sure they follow all the quarantine rules, right?” interjected the guard sternly.

“Absolutely. No problem at all.” Vash was all smiles until they were a safe distance away. “Sorry about that. They’re nervous about outsiders after…” He gestured at the wall behind them. “Anyway, eastern side of town is where they’re keeping everyone who’s been exposed, but not sick. That’s where I’m staying. It’s not too far.”

Meryl scanned their surroundings as they walked through town. It was as miserable as you’d expect from an ongoing pandemic. The streets were largely abandoned, and a lot of the shops were closed. They walked past a section that was entirely closed off, with large signs posted nearby. Her eyes scanned them quickly, taking in as many details as she could. Visiting hours, special permits needed for the non-immune to enter. That must have been the quarantine zone. An aura of sadness hung over it, worse even than the streets outside.

At least we were able to prevent a shootout. Or at least, Wolfwood says we did. Meryl wasn’t sure how much of a fight this town would’ve been able to put up.

Eventually, they reached one of the few open businesses, an inn with an attached general store. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get separate rooms, but I can probably find us some cots or something,” Vash said apologetically. “And food. I’ll find more food for you guys. Do you need anything else?”

“Does this place have running water?” Wolfwood asked. “Because as long as there’s running water and the windows don’t leak sand, I’m good.”

“Same here,” Meryl said. “You should really focus on resting…”

Vash shook his head. “Too wired. If I don’t have something to do, I’m going to start doing pushups again.”

“In that case, food sounds great.” Maybe if they could get him to sit down for a meal, he’d unwind enough to sleep. “Thanks, Vash.”

As Vash had expected, he was only able to get them spare cots. He and Wolfwood started setting those up while Meryl rinsed off in the shower. She was hesitant to take her eyes off Wolfwood, but Vash would be with him. She trusted Vash a lot more than she trusted Wolfwood.

It was nice to get some alone time to think. Meryl mulled over what they had seen so far and what Vash might need help with. It was possible that he might need some personal defending, like he had at the oil fires, or he might just need them to help take some burdens off his plate. It was obvious he was worn out from working so hard. A few extra hands couldn’t hurt.

Or maybe Wolfwood was wrong and those guys will be back. What do we do then? Try to help, or focus on getting Vash out? It was a tough decision. As much as Meryl hated to admit it, Wolfwood was right. Vash wouldn’t be able to choose sides here, even when one was clearly an aggressor. And honestly, Meryl couldn’t blame him. They were aggressive out of desperation, not malice or greed. That made things a lot more complicated

Meryl caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She was a little surprised how tired the face looking back at her was. Then again, she’d been through a lot in the past few months—more than she’d ever expected to go through when she’d left with Roberto. Even more than what was usual for the cruelties of No Man’s Land.

She picked a bit of loose dried skin off her forehead and tried to smile. It didn’t really help, so she let it drop. “You need food,” she told herself sternly. She’d think better on a full stomach.

As Meryl opened the bathroom door, something hit the ground dangerously close to her foot. It was her notebook. It must have been propped against the bathroom door. She hadn’t put it there, and neither of the boys were in the room.

Weird…

Meryl hesitantly picked up the notebook and flipped to the first empty pages. Wolfwood’s handwriting—a messier variation of it—marked one page.

Have to do something. Be back by sun up. Do NOT let Vash follow. -NDW

…oh, no.

Of course, that was when the door re-opened. Vash stepped in with a large paper bag in his arms. “Oh, good, you’re out!” Vash said cheerfully. “I grabbed something for you to change into since you’ve been…” He trailed off when he noticed the bathroom door was wide open, showing no sign of Wolfwood. “Where’s Nico?”

“He’s not with you?”

“No.”

Panic set in. Meryl reread the note, indecision gripping her body. Wolfwood had expressly asked her not to let him follow, but if Wolfwood was going where Meryl thought he was, he might get in trouble on his own.

Correction. He would definitely get in trouble.

“Meryl?” Vash said hesitantly.

She couldn’t keep the truth from him. He was going to look for Wolfwood no matter what; at least this way he’d know what the stakes were. Meryl held out the notebook. “He was gone when I got out,” Meryl admitted, “but he left this by the door.”

Vash put the bags down and read the note, probably multiple times from the way his eyes moved across the page. Eventually, his eyes met Meryl’s. “Do you think he went to July?” he asked. “He seemed weird when he saw the convoy go by, and if he doesn’t want me to follow…”

Meryl nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, too. Do you think July would have more of the fungus?”

“If anyone would, it’s them. But he’d have to steal it. We can’t let him do that alone.” Vash passed Meryl back the notebook and started digging through the bags he’d brought up. “I know he said not to let me follow him, but I can’t let him get hurt. I’m going.”

Meryl wanted to argue with him, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop him. He was Vash the Stampede; when he put his mind to it, nothing would stop him. But she couldn’t let him run into danger alone, either.

“You’re sure your brother isn’t there?” Meryl said.

“I’m positive.” Vash sat down and started loading his pistol. Meryl wanted to ask why he’d gone to a confrontation earlier with an unloaded gun, but decided to focus on the crisis at hand. “I swear, I’d be able to tell.”

“Okay. I have conditions, though. I’m going with you, and we can’t be too obvious. Do you have anything you can wear as a disguise?”

“Funny you should ask…” Vash pulled something out of the bag and tossed it to her: a pair of sensible linen pants and a light gray poncho-style coat with a high enough collar and big enough hood to obscure her face. “I figured you’d be sick of wearing the same clothes for a few decades and I had some extra money, so…”

Meryl smiled. “Thank you, Vash. This is perfect. What about you?”

“I’ll wear Nico’s. We’re about the same size, I think.” He pulled something else out of a bag—some ammo and a holster—and held it out to her. “It’s not much, but hopefully you won’t need it.”

Meryl swallowed nervously. “Hopefully,” she agreed.

They were headed into July City, though. Meryl was prepared for anything to happen there.

.

Wolfwood may have asked Meryl to make sure Vash didn’t follow, but he also knew the chances those pleas would fall on deaf ears. That awareness sped him up as he moved through town and to the wall. There were guards along the makeshift barrier, but they were mostly armed civilians who, judging from the wheezy coughs, were just barely over their own infections. Getting past them and through a gap in the barrier was a lot easier than he’d braced himself for.

One obstacle down.

From there, he made his way to the road and started in the direction of July. He kept his rifle drawn and kept scanning his surroundings. He wasn’t just watching for military police, raiders, anyone else who might start trouble. His temporary partners were somewhere along this stretch of road.

Unless they’d backed out. James didn’t have any reason to believe him. Hell, for all Wolfwood knew, he was walking right into a trap. Alone.

But he’d seen something in the man’s eyes, a spark jumping from Wolfwood’s dangerous words and blossoming into a more dangerous hope.

There’s more of the fungus in July. I’ve seen it. I can get it for you.

It was the truth. Wolfwood had seen it, and he could get to it, in theory. Doing so would save a lot of lives, and spit in the Eye of Michael while he was at it. But he was still kicking himself for saying it with every step he took towards July.

It was a horrible plan. Absolutely fucked. There were a thousand things that could go wrong along the way, wrong in a very lethal way, and this whole mess was none of his damn business. If it had just been him, he would’ve left by now.

But it wasn’t just him. It was Vash, and Vash’s stupid words that Wolfwood had stupidly promised to think about, and it was the fact that a third option—the mystical winning option that Vash so desperately believed in—had practically been shoved into his face. Wolfwood wasn’t sure how much he believed in divine providence, but that truck might as well have been a glowing neon sign that said, Here you go, idiot.

Another voice had echoed in his head then, too: I’ll save both the town and the ship. There is a way.

And Vash had.

And he’d try again, if he knew the truth. But that would mean running into the lion’s den. Even if Vash wasn’t lying to Wolfwood about Knives not being there, taking him to find the fungus would mean questions. Peeling back layers that might expose the ugliest parts of what Wolfwood was. Wolfwood wasn’t ready for that. So, this was his compromise. He’d go. He’d do what Vash would do, and take the risks Vash would take.

He hated it, and he wasn’t even in July yet.

I hope you appreciate this, jackass.

The sound of movement off to his right made Wolfwood stop and raise his weapon. James stepped out from cover with his own weapon drawn. “Wasn’t sure you’d show up,” he said.

Wolfwood shrugged. “Yeah, well, I had a shadow I needed to dodge.”

“Right. And what kind of trouble is Vash in with July, again?”

That had been Wolfwood’s excuse for why Vash couldn’t be there. It wasn’t a lie, just…hard to explain. See, his homicidal maniac of a brother is secretly in charge of the city and wants to use him to murder humanity wasn’t an explanation most people would buy. Fortunately, there was another way Wolfwood could phrase this that wasn’t a total lie.

“Exactly the kind of thing that’s gotten him in this mess,” Wolfwood said. “You keep trying to solve everyone’s problems and you make as many enemies as you do friends. Especially in a place like that.”

James thought about it, huffed quietly, and lowered his gun. “Yeah, sounds right. How is he not dead yet?”

“Beats the hell out of me,” Wolfwood replied as he lowered his own weapon. “Did you bring the bike?”

“Yep. I’m driving, though. You navigate.”

It was fair enough, and the bike did at least have a sidecar. That didn’t stop Wolfwood from feeling twitchy the whole damn drive. Their destination didn’t help. There were a lot of stretches of empty nothingness around July, but the one to the north of the city was special. It didn’t just hold the solar panels that supplied supplementary power to the city. Underneath it was one of the Eye’s training compounds, and one of the places where they kept their backup uniforms. Grabbing two of those was their first step.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” James said skeptically.

“I know the routine.” Wolfwood unscrewed one last bolt and flipped open the ventilation shaft’s cover. “I used to come in and out this way all the time. They didn’t exactly have a backdoor for a smoke break.”

James still looked skeptical, and Wolfwood couldn’t blame him. He’d flashed his lighter with the Eye’s symbol, said that he’d quit, but he wasn’t sure how plausible that sounded to an outsider. “Is there some kind of machinery under there?” James asked. “I keep thinking I hear humming.”

“They’ve got noise makers on the surface. Keeps prying eyes away. You get used to it.” He set the rifle aside. “You promise you’re not going to shoot me?”

“Only if you try something.”

“Fair enough.” Wolfwood lowered himself down carefully. James followed; his pistol was still stowed, so Wolfwood decided to go out on a limb and start crawling. We’re both putting a lot of trust in each other, here, he reminded himself. Mutually assured destruction.

Not exactly the best way to make friends, but hopefully it would be enough to get them through this.

Wolfwood had hoped he’d never have to sneak back through these vents again, but here he was. At least if everything went according to plan, he wouldn’t be there long. And assuming the layout of the place was still the same…

Don’t be stupid. It probably took them ages to build this place. They won’t be shuffling rooms around much. Keep your head on and keep crawling.

Eventually, the metal beneath him was broken up by grates, each one looking down into a storage room. Food. Weapons. Ammo. He was tempted to grab some ammo while he was there, but forced himself to keep moving. The ammo would definitely be watched and counted carefully. The uniforms, not so much.

He remembered where to stop clearly, and fortunately, the setup was still the same. Boxes of freshly-made or mended uniforms were all lined up on shelves. No sign of the tailor or anyone else. And when Wolfwood experimentally pulled on the grate, it popped up easily.

Guess people really have been sneaking out this way for a while.

Wolfwood slipped off his shoes before lowering himself carefully into the room. He landed without a sound. James followed after a delay, having done the same trick. He landed a bit more heavily, but not enough to attract attention.

So far, so good.

It was easy enough to find something in his size; he had to hold up a few shirts before James indicated that one would fit him. “Haven’t you been sick?” Wolfwood said skeptically as he picked a corresponding jacket. “Thought you’d have less meat on your bones.”

“We’re doing fine with food. It’s the medicine that’s screwing us.”

“Lucky you – “

Wolfwood froze.

“What is it?” said James.

Get out, whispered a tiny, panicked voice deep in his brain. Get out now.

Wolfwood didn’t know what had triggered the thought. He couldn’t hear anything and nothing looked off. But that was a whisper born from years of learning how to spot even the smallest sign of danger, and in a place like this, he wasn’t going to question it. “Back up,” Wolfwood hissed. “Back, go.”

James made a dash for the vent. Wolfwood grabbed the last thing he needed, made sure everything was in place, tossed the bundle of clothes into the vent—

Footsteps. That was footsteps.

--climbed up after it—

Don’t panic, you’ll make more noise if you panic and then you’ll get caught.

--pulled the grate closed and got out of sight just as the voices reached the door—

Don’t move. Stay still. Stay quiet.

--and thank God he did, because Wolfwood knew that voice.

“…will have to discuss the latest candidates with Father William. His selection process has been lacking of late.”

In a strange way, the terror that gripped him was worse than what he’d felt when he’d seen Millions Knives. Knives was terrifying, sure, but even after July he was terrifying in theory. Chapel, though?

Chapel was personal.

“I don’t think he’ll be happy to hear that,” said a second voice, one Wolfwood didn’t recognize. All of Chapel’s ass-kissing underlings started to blend together after a while. It may not have been anyone Wolfwood knew at all. “You know he has Lord Knives’ ear. If he wanted to…”

“Lord Knives values results.” Wolfwood could hear things being moved around, the rustling of fabric as clothes were changed. He thought he caught a whiff of blood. Someone must have really pissed him off. “If Father William is not producing adequate results, I’m sure nothing he says about me will matter.” He paused. “I will see if I can oversee the next pilgrimage myself. Perhaps there are more suitable candidates that he overlooked…”

Pilgrimage.

Wolfwood didn’t realize how tightly his hands had gripped into fists until they started trembling. A pilgrimage meant blood draws and endless questions and little faces watching as one of their own was taken away. Would they be honest, or did they have older kids who told them to lie while they answered truthfully and bore the brunt of the scrutiny? Wolfwood had lied his ass off for years, until suddenly he was one of the oldest, until he’d met Livio and found himself with someone he’d pay any price to protect…

The door closed. Silence filled the room.

Wolfwood stayed still. At first it was to be sure that no one was coming back. It took James poking his shoulder to make him realize that he was frozen in sheer fear and dread and…frustration, that he’d been up here the entire time and hadn’t been able to do anything. At the thought that Chapel was going to hurt more people, and that just like with Knives, he’d been too chickenshit to stop it.

“We good?” James whispered.

No, whispered the animal fear in his mind. He tried to override it. No one saw you. You’re safe.

He gets his. You know that.

It doesn’t matter. Chapel might think he’s tough shit, but there’s a lot of people who’d be willing to take his place. Killing him now won’t change anything.

And then, loudest and most urgent: You’ve got two people who need you right now, and they’ll do something stupid really fast if you don’t get moving right now.

That was the thought that made him nod and tilt his chin back up the tunnel. They started crawling. Wolfwood didn’t remember most of it. Just dark, dark, dark, then the light of the moons overhead. James was up first, and held out a hand for Wolfwood to follow. The cold night air felt like daggers in Wolfwood’s lungs, but it was better than the air of that place.

“Are you okay?” James asked.

He sounded genuinely concerned. Probably worried that the whole operation was going to fall apart because of Wolfwood. “Sorry,” Wolfwood said. “Claustrophobic.” Not a lie. Not the truth. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

James didn’t ask any more questions. He just helped Wolfwood to his feet and started back for the bike.

That was one difference between his memories of this place and the present, Wolfwood reminded himself. He could leave any time he wanted to.

Even if leaving meant jumping feet-first into some other bullshit, it was better than what he was leaving behind.

.

There was no sign of Wolfwood on the road to July. Fortunately, Vash had a few ideas of where he might be.

“If he’s not going in the front door, there are a few other ways to get in,” Vash said as he surveyed the city with his binoculars. “Some need equipment he doesn’t have, so that narrows it down.”

“Should I be worried that you know multiple ways to get into July?” Meryl asked.

“More like I’ve thought about how I’d get out if I had to…” Vash winced. “That’s worse, huh?”

“A little bit.”

“Nai hasn’t reached out to me since…did Nico tell you about the town with the aquifer?” Meryl nodded. “That’s the last time I heard from him, honest. It’s just…I don’t know. That whole incident made me rethink some things.” Vash sighed quietly. “I’d say I’m probably being paranoid, but I think I need to stop acting like he’s not capable of hurting me.”

That was a step in the right direction, but Vash sounded so sad that Meryl couldn’t feel good about it. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Is what it is.” Vash straightened up suddenly. “I see him.”

“Really?”

Vash passed her the binoculars. “Coming in from the solar farm. There.”

Her view through the binoculars was tinted green, but she could still make out Wolfwood’s features. He was in the sidecar of a motorcycle being driven by someone who could have been James. “Well,” she said, “that was easy.”

“I think I know where they’re going, too.” Vash took the binoculars back from her and re-mounted his thomas. “I vote we just follow for now. Only jump in if he needs help. If he knows I’m here, he’ll waste time trying to make me leave.” He held out a hand to her. “Sound good to you?”

Meryl took his hand. “Works for me.”

He pulled her up into the saddle, and they were off.

Wolfwood and James had parked their bike exactly where Vash thought they would, near some kind of waste runoff from the city’s sewer system. She and Vash left the thomas a safe distance away before creeping up to eavesdrop. “…and let me do the talking,” Wolfwood was saying. “Even if you didn’t still sound sick, they’d clock you the second you opened your mouth.”

“We have some Plant worshippers in our town,” James said. He was changing into a different outfit, one that looked a lot like what the white-haired assassin had been wearing. “I know how they talk.”

“Not these guys. Trust me.” Wolfwood adjusted the buttons on a nearly identical outfit. It was closer fitting than his usual suit jacket, to the point of looking restrictive. It made him look smaller, thinner, like a lanky teenager stuffed into a formal suit they couldn’t afford to replace yet. He tossed James a gas mask. “You’ll want to get this on now. It smells as bad as it looks in there.”

Meryl felt a chill run down her spine as both men put on the masks. She’d seen people dressed like that when Conrad had been leading her and Roberto around. They’d been creepy then, and seeing Wolfwood forcing himself into the mold of one was…

You already know he works for them. What makes this different?

She didn’t know. She just knew it felt wrong.

Wolfwood and James climbed up a nearby ladder. Vash waited until they were in the pipes above before darting out from cover. He went for Wolfwood’s clothes first, snatching up his sunglasses and pocketing them. “Extra disguise,” he whispered. “Stay close.”

He didn’t have to tell Meryl twice. The coat he was wearing was dark grey, and he was swallowed up by the shadows of the tunnels almost instantly. She probably would have lost him if she hadn’t held onto his sleeve so tightly.

The tunnels (which did, in fact, smell awful) gave way to some much smaller but at least less smelly maintenance corridors. Vash kept them back so far that Wolfwood was often out of sight, but never seemed to lose him entirely. His hearing must have been better than Meryl’s, or else this was one of his potential escape routes and he was trusting that Wolfwood would follow the same path. The further they went, the louder the noises of the city above became, until they opened a door leading into an alleyway. Meryl could see bright lights at the other end, crowds of people enjoying what night time entertainment there was, and the sight of Wolfwood and James walking down the street. “I’ve never tailed anyone before,” Meryl admitted.

“Just follow what I do and you’ll be fine.” Vash slipped on Wolfwood’s sunglasses before offering Meryl his. “Don’t worry. We’ve got this.”

Meryl couldn’t help feeling some doubt, because right now they looked like two people wearing sunglasses at night while skulking around a city with their faces obscured. But she put the glasses on anyway and followed him into the crowds. Despite her concerns, no one seemed to give them a second glance.

She hoped Wolfwood and James didn’t notice them, either.

.

“Quit gawking.”

“I’m not – “

“You are. Side by side, remember?” Wolfwood slowed down enough to match James’ pace. Much as he wanted to get this over with, he couldn’t start dragging the guy. “I know, it’s shiny and all…”

“It’s disgusting.” The condemnation came in a harsh whisper, one Wolfwood could barely hear over the mask. “We’re out there dying while everyone in here lives like…this.”

Wolfwood knew what he meant. July was a city of immense wealth, a place where people by and large lived comfortably, even extravagantly. The fact that it was a slap in the face to people from the outside was just the surface layer of rot.

He’d always hated coming back here. He hated it even more now, crammed as he was in a deacon’s uniform and about to wander into a new lion’s den. But he shoved that all down and kept walking. “Just don’t pick any fights, all right? We’re gonna get your piece of the pie soon.”

People gave them a wide berth as they moved through the nightlife crowds, even the MPs. It made making their way towards the center of the city easier. They wouldn’t be heading for the tower, thank God. Instead, they walked towards a much smaller building near it. It had the same boxy structure a lot of the buildings did, but with red-tinted windows and a stream of men and women in the Eye’s uniforms entering. “Remember, it’s not gonna be pretty in there,” Wolfwood whispered. “Stay cool. Follow my head.”

James nodded.

A feeling of eyes on him suddenly weighed down Wolfwood, hard enough that he did a quick scan of the area. No sign of red or white jackets, but for a second, he noticed someone at an outdoor noodle place turn around, as if he had been staring. Broad shoulders. Sensible jacket. Didn’t look like much, but…

Do I know him?

No time to worry about that. He couldn’t slow down. Stay focused. Get what you came for.

If that guy was trouble, they’d handle it later.

.

“Should we follow him in?” Vash whispered.

“I don’t think so,” Meryl replied. “Everyone’s in those weird uniforms. We’d just stand out.”

Vash didn’t look thrilled, but he nodded. “So, we just…watch the building, if there’s gunshots or something we…” He stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. “…we go in then.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve had a headache ever since we set foot in here. Nothing Nai-related, just…” He shuddered. “This place feels miserable.”

The dying Plants in the tower probably had something to do with that. Meryl felt horrible not telling him the truth, but it was better if he didn’t know. There was nothing he could do about it, anyway. “We never did have dinner,” Meryl pointed out. “Do you want noodles? Maybe that will help.”

“Sure. It’s worth a shot.”

The good news was, there were a few people at the noodle place in much more obnoxious outfits; as long as they sat near the night crowd, they blended in a bit. There was also someone in a waiter’s uniform for a different place, a few MP officers, and…

Meryl felt her heart stop beating.

Someone set a bowl of noodles in front of her. The night party group kept chatting and laughing. Vash started eating. All of that turned into a background drone. Everything, even Vash, even her worries about Wolfwood, suddenly didn’t matter.

She knew that man. He may have been younger, with shorter hair and a more well-kept beard, but she’d spent too long on the road with Roberto de Niro not to recognize him.

.

He’d warned James that the décor would be ugly, but there wasn’t any way to drive home how ugly. You had to see it to really understand.

All the lighting and windows were red, making it look like they’d been swallowed by something or forcibly submerged in a tank with a dying Plant. The central altar didn’t help. It was made of a a shattered Plant bulb suspended over a low table, with speakers arranged inside so the upcoming sermon would sound like it was coming from within. There were no chairs, no other furniture, no other décor except the pillars forming a circle around the edge of the room. Wolfwood thought he remembered them being painted some awful, clashing mix of colors that had looked even uglier in the red light, but he had only been in there a few times. Maybe he was misremembering, or maybe that hadn’t been added yet.

Doesn’t matter. Focus.

He led James to a wall near the only other door in the place and knelt down. James knelt next to him, imitating his posture almost perfectly. Just stay kneeling and look contrite. Pretend you’re contemplating the horrors of humanity. We’ll move once everyone else is invested in the sermon. Which meant having to hear Conrad’s voice, but Wolfwood was pretty good at blocking him out by now.

He'd forgotten how loud the speakers were, though.

“They called our kind the Sinners, for we had tried to yield a power that was not ours to yield.”

Yeah, Wolfwood remembered this one. The whole history lesson on how mankind had messed around with science and made the modern Plant, exploited them, blah blah blah, something something, bringing down the judgment of the angel. A lot of the Eye’s teachings were almost funny after all the time Wolfwood had spent with Vash. The little punk barely remembers to feed himself and has the self-preservation of a drugged thomas, and you wanna tell me he’s one of the angels who will bring us paradise?

It stopped being funny pretty fast, though.

He wouldn’t want this. Not that Millions Knives had ever cared about what Vash wanted.

James nudged Wolfwood. Poor guy was probably itching to get out of there. Wolfwood gave a quick scan of the room, making sure everyone was fixed on the altar, before scooting closer to the door and reaching for the keypad. 2107, assuming the code wasn’t different in the past…

Click.

…and it wasn’t. The door slid open, whisper-silent. Wolfwood let James slip in first before following. There was an elevator on the other side; Wolfwood tapped the button for the lowest floor and tried very hard not to look at the security camera in the corner.

“We’re not going to have a problem, right?” James asked carefully.

Wolfwoodshook his head. “Nah, Father William makes last-minute deliveries all the time. As long as we don’t disturb services on the way out, we’ll be fine.”

All true, all the basis of this stupid plan. Being chosen as an errand boy to get more of the stuff for Conrad’s experiments was the whole reason Wolfwood knew it was down there and how to get it. Never thought that would ever come in handy again. Another stupid sign from God that this would work out, if he wanted to be sullen about it.

The elevator stopped. They walked down a short hallway, following the sound of the same lecture being played above. The hallway opened up into a room full of worm corpses suspended in various growing frames, all covered in fuzzy, white-pink stuff that made him nauseous to look at. One scientist looked up from the radio. “Everything all right, deacon?” he asked.

“Just needed some extra supply for Father William,” Wolfwood said. He was glad the mask hid his face so well; he could focus on controlling his tone without worrying about how his face looked. “A few units should do it.”

The scientist made a soft ah noise and walked to one of the growth frames. “Good timing. We had started assembling tomorrow’s harvest. You can take what we have along with the extra.”

“He’ll be grateful for that.” Well, someone would be. Wolfwood glanced at James to make sure he was keeping it together. He was quiet, stoic, still aside from one hand clenching into a fist. Could’ve been nerves. Could’ve been elation. Wolfwood had promised a limited supply, but what the scientist started loading enough was definitely enough to treat the town.

Okay, God, I get it, this was a good idea, Vash was right, just please get me out of here without things going wrong…

“Here you are.” The caretaker passed a carrier bag to Wolfwood. “Be sure to give Father Williams our best wishes.”

Wolfwood let himself remember the sight of Conrad’s brains splattered on the tank glass, just for a second. “Will do,” he said with a genuine smile.

They walked back to the elevator without being stopped. Wolfwood passed the bag to James once they were inside. “Just don’t open it. Humidity control and all. Father William handles that.”

“Got it.” James’s voice was steady, but his hand shook slightly as he took the bag. Out of excitement that it was working or fear that something could go wrong any second, Wolfwood wasn’t sure. Could be either one.

If anything was going to go wrong, it would happen soon. They still had to get out of the city, after all. That was a long enough walk for something to blow up on them,

The lecture was just wrapping up as they exited the elevator, allowing them to merge into a departing crowd. No one gave them a second glance.

Wolfwood started praying it would stay that way.

.

Meryl tried to keep her eyes on her meal, but her gaze kept darting back to Roberto.

He didn’t look much older than her. He was wearing a dark jacket, regular shirt, nothing to indicate what his current job might be. Was he a reporter even now? He hadn’t talked much about his past—and she hadn’t asked much, she realized with a burst of shame. Prying into Roberto’s past hadn’t seemed important when they were chasing down Vash the Stampede.

She wished she’d asked more. She wished she could even begin to guess what he was doing here. He’d never mentioned living in July. Did he live here? If he did, why had he left for November?

Vash touched her arm. “Are you going to finish that?” he asked.

Meryl looked down at her bowl. She’d been eating on autopilot, mostly going for the solid parts of the noodle soup. and had resorted to stirring around the broth and smaller bits. It wasn’t her favorite part; she’d normally drink it anyway, but she wasn’t hungry at all. “You go ahead,” she said, pushing the bowl to him.

Vash didn’t need to be told twice. At least he still had his appetite. He was in the process of eagerly slurping down what was left when people started leaving the strange building. So many of them were in the same outfit that Meryl was worried they’d miss Wolfwood. She shouldn’t have been; two figures broke off from the main group pretty quickly and headed back in the direction they’d come from. Before Vash even had time to lower his bowl, though, Roberto got up and started walking after Wolfwood and James.

The hell…?

It could have been her imagination, a coincidence. But Meryl still grabbed Vash’s arm as they got up. “Keep an eye on that man there,” she whispered.

“Trouble?” Vash whispered back.

“I…don’t know. Could be nothing, but…”

Vash nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Wolfwood took a more circuitous route back, using more alleys and side streets. The new route did confirm that Roberto was following him. The few times he seemed to vanish, he’d re-appear later out of a random side street and resume the chase. It became hard to tell if they were following Wolfwood or Roberto. “Do you know him?” Vash asked at one point.

He is my boss. Was my boss. Will be my boss. Meryl felt sick. I don’t know what to do.

Wolfwood and James made a sudden turn. Roberto followed. Meryl saw him reach for his gun as he went. From the sound of Vash’s sharp inhale, so did he.

Oh. Oh, this is bad.

.

At first, he took the long way out as a precaution. It didn’t take him long to realize how smart a call that was.

“Still there?” he asked James.

“Think so.” There were at least three that they’d noticed: a guy who kept pinging Wolfwood as familiar despite never getting a clear look at him, and two others who he’d also only caught glimpses of, but one too many glimpses for it to be coincidence. He had no idea what was going on, but he wasn’t interested in finding out.

Can I get out of this without killing someone? Vash doesn’t need to know if I do, right? Son of a bitch should be grateful I’m here at all…

“What do we do?” James continued nervously.

Screw it. Least I can do is figure out if this guy is with the Eye or what. Wolfwood steered James into a side street. “I’ll deal with it,” he said. “Be ready to run if it gets bad…”

“Hey!” called a voice behind them. “You gentlemen have a – “

The voice, one that immediately struck Wolfwood as familiar, was cut off with a solid omph and the sound of bodies colliding. Wolfwood turned around, tense and ready to start swinging, but instead…

Oh, fuck me.

He may have been dressed in a long black coat and wearing Wolfwood’s glasses, but even with all that and a hood up, there was no mistaking Vash. Meryl stood at the alley’s entrance, wearing a hooded poncho that went a long way in obscuring her features when combined with Vash’s sunglasses. Those glasses didn’t hide the stricken look in her eyes.

A look not directed at Wolfwood.

He looked at the person Vash had pinned, and realized he did know him.

“Military police!” growled Roberto de Niro. “I’m military police!”

Hell. That was him all right. His voice may have been unmarred by drinking and his face was less lined, but it was definitely Roberto.

He was a cop?! July City MP?! This was a lot. No wonder Meryl looked like that.

“What does military police want with us?” Wolfwood asked. He was immediately glad for the gas mask and how it obscured his voice. He didn’t want to think about the ramifications of Roberto recognizing him in the future.

“I had some questions…” Roberto tried to look up at Vash, but the kid had him pinned down pretty good. “…but I’m starting to think you’re not really with those guys.”

Hell. Those sharp bursts of perceptiveness had always been around, it seemed. Vash glanced up at Wolfwood, eyes somehow still just visible behind Wolfwood’s glasses. What do we do? that look asked. Wolfwood was sure the no killing bit was implied, but Vash didn’t need to worry about that this time. The only person from their future Wolfwood was gonna kill in the past was Knives. Maybe Chapel if he got a clear shot, but definitely not Roberto.

New problem. Wolfwood didn’t know what to do.

“And if we’re not? What’s military police going to do about that?” Wolfwood tried.

“Depends on what’s in that bag.”

“Life saving medical treatment that your people don’t feel like sharing,” James snapped. Wolfwood would’ve told him to shut up, but the guy had a point, and he was curious to see how Roberto would react. “We only took what we needed. Is that going to be a problem, or do you really want to stop us from helping little kids?”

Roberto grimaced immediately. His expression was guilty, just for a second, before he went back to being all business. “Is this about the dustlung outbreaks I’ve been hearing about? What’re the Plant worshippers doing with the treatment?”

“We didn’t stick around to ask,” Wolfwood said. “You’re telling me you’re nosing around the Eye of Michael?”

“Why? You know something about them?”

Wolfwood knew plenty, enough to know that whatever Roberto was up to, it was going to put a target on his head. Obviously, it wouldn’t be enough to kill him, but they could find plenty of ways to ruin his life before the end.

“…you guys keep moving, okay?” Wolfwood said. “I’ll catch up.”

“Are you sure?” James asked.

“I’ve got this. Don’t worry about it.”

Vash kept his mouth shut, but he also grabbed Roberto’s pistol, unloaded it, and tossed it in Wolfwood’s direction before letting Roberto up. It was the same Derringer Meryl had on her person somewhere, just newer. Absolutely unreal. “No need for that,” Roberto said irately.

“Would you let me up with a weapon?” Wolfwood pointed out. Roberto grunted in annoyance, but couldn’t argue the point.

Wolfwood waited until the others had left—James was the only one to go without giving Wolfwood a second look—before speaking again: “What’s the endgame here?”

“How much do you know about the Eye of Michael?”

“Enough to tell you this is not a path you want to go down.”

“Are you a member?”

“I was.” Still am. Will be one day. He banished the thought to avoid the headache that would come with it. “I’m just here for the fungus. I don’t make a habit of poking around them anymore and neither should you.”

“There’s lives on the line. Look…” Roberto reached for his pocket, moving slowly when he saw Wolfwood tense. All he pulled out was a piece of paper. “Did you see this kid when you were in there?”

He was holding a photo. Wolfwood glanced at it long enough to catch a few details—light hair, dark eyes, gap in the teeth—before forcing his gaze away. “No,” he said.

Roberto kept pushing: “They help bring families into the city, call it charity work, but sometimes they take the kids. His mother reached out to me…”

“Stop.”

“…said they won’t tell her what happened to her son, won’t let her talk to him…”

“I mean it, stop.”

“He’s only twelve. His name is – “

“I don’t care what his name is, and if you’re smart, you’ll forget you ever heard it,” Wolfwood snapped.

Roberto froze. The look on his face wasn’t judgmental; instead, his eyes were full of dread, as if Wolfwood had confirmed something he’d suspected all along. “Do your bosses know you’re doing this?” Wolfwood asked. “Or did they try to stop you from looking? You ever stop to ask yourself why?”

“…the thought’s come up,” Roberto admitted. His jaw was tight; the dread in his eyes was giving way to frustrated fury. “Just answer me this…what are the chances he’s still alive?”

He was asking the wrong question. It would’ve been better to ask what the chances were the kid was still human.

“If he’s lucky, he’s long dead,” Wolfwood said quietly. “Best if you and his mom act like he is. Trust me.”

Roberto stared down at the picture. His hand started to shake. More and more he looked like a man at the end of his rope. Maybe Wolfwood had been there for his final straw, or had put it there himself. He wasn’t sure. Least he could do while he was here was try and keep things from continuing.

“Stop looking,” Wolfwood repeated. He leaned over, picked up the Derringer, and stepped closer to hold it out to Roberto. “You won’t find any justice in this place.”

Roberto took the pistol with his free hand. “…I don’t care what you took,” he said finally. His voice was dark, furious in a way Wolfwood didn’t know the old man was capable of. “Just…get away from the city before someone else notices.”

He didn’t have to tell Wolfwood twice. He slipped past Roberto and out into the streets. Roberto stayed in place, still staring down at the photo.

He’d be seeing that face in his nightmares for a long time. Wolfwood knew from experience.

.

“We should get out of here.” James hadn’t stopped pacing since they left the sewers. “If the military police are involved…”

“You can go if you want. I’m not leaving without Nico.” Vash kept both eyes fixed on the tunnel exit. His hand hovered near his pistol, as if he were waiting for trouble. The intensity in his eyes was almost unsettling. Not unsettling enough to keep Meryl out of her head, though.

Roberto had been military police once. He’d used the same Derringer back then that he’d given to her (would give to her one day) on the elevator. He had a whole life he’d never told her about. Here and now, he was alive.

But one day he’d be dead, and she’d be partly to blame for it.

The sound of a pistol being drawn finally got her attention. A figure emerged from the sewers, climbed down the ladder to the desert floor, and pulled off a mask to reveal Wolfwood. He took a few deep breaths of the night air, seemingly not caring about the residual sewer smell. “It’s sorted,” he said as he approached. “And no, I didn’t shoot him, before you ask – “

Wolfwood was cut off by Vash hugging him tightly. Wolfwood froze in place, eyes wide, expression almost totally unguarded. He looked just as ready to fall apart as Meryl felt.

Which of his own demons had he faced back there?

“…we’ve, uhm…” Wolfwood carefully pushed Vash away from him. His face was back to neutral by the time Vash could see it. “We’ve got to get moving before anyone else notices us.”

“Agreed.” James jumped on the bike and started up the motor impatiently. “My group didn’t go far. I can drop you off on the road and keep going.” As Wolfwood tossed his things into the sidecar, James added, with genuine earnestness, “Thank you.”

Wolfwood didn’t reply.

Meryl and Vash rode behind them on the thomas. For a while, the only sounds were the bike engine and the thomas’s footsteps. Vash the silence first: “He’s probably mad at me, isn’t he?”

“Uh…oh, no, I don’t think…” Meryl struggled to think of something reassuring to say, but her mind was still trapped in memories of the elevator. “If he’s angry at anyone, it’s probably me. I was supposed to stop you.”

Vash hummed, a sound Meryl felt more than heard as she clung to him. “Did you know that man?” Vash asked suddenly.

Meryl was extremely glad Vash couldn’t see her face just then. “I…” How do I even begin to explain this? “It’s…complicated.”

“Because of the portals?”

“Yeah. Because of that.”

Vash hummed again. Fortunately, he didn’t ask any more questions, but Meryl could tell they were coming. Just not now.

She’d have to think of an explanation. Maybe she’d have a chance to run something past Wolfwood before Vash brought it up again. He was more detached from the situation; maybe he could be objective about it.

Catching a glimpse of the blank look on his face made her reconsider that.

James, as promised, stopped to drop Wolfwood off on the road with the town in sight before thanking them again and driving off. Wolfwood stared after him. He was still in the uniform; it looked even more uncomfortable up close. “Take it you missed the part of the note where you two weren’t supposed to follow me,” Wolfwood said finally.

“No, I read it,” Vash said. “I just figured if it were me, you’d follow.”

“Yeah, because you’re an idiot who’d probably get himself shot.”

“That guy literally had a gun pointed at you.”

“Fuck off. I had that.” Wolfwood suddenly started stripping the gloves off. “Why the hell do they dress like this, shit…”

He was definitely agitated. Vash noticed it, too, which was probably why he kept his mouth shut as Wolfwood yanked off the gloves, the suit jacket, the shirt underneath. He was thinner than Meryl had expected—still muscular, he’d have to be from carrying that weapon around, but in a trimmed-down way that men who did hard labor without enough food were. No wonder he ate like he was starving. Was it the chemicals that did that? “You owe me,” Wolfwood said as he grabbed his own shirt and threw it back on. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” Vash said quietly. “I got you more clothes. This is…” He shrugged the black jacket off and held it out. In contrast to Wolfwood, he was much more muscular than you’d expect once he took off the bulky layers. Broad shoulders, well-fed, healthy. It was easy to tell, even with a turtleneck covering most of his body. “…this is for you, actually.”

Wolfwood stared at the jacket, then at Vash, eyes completely baffled without the sunglasses to mask them. “…fucking hell, make me feel like an asshole, why don’t you?” he said incredulously.

Vash started laughing. It had the same air of frantic relief to it as it had before. This time, Wolfwood was the one to step forward and hug him. “I didn’t mean it, Vash, I’m just…”

“But you did do it for me,” Vash said, his voice muffled against Wolfwood’s shoulder.

“I…” Wolfwood met Meryl’s eyes, just for a second, before looking away. “…promised I’d think about what you said…guess I thought about it.”

He didn’t look happy about it. If Meryl had to guess, he’d been clawing and biting and kicking against his better judgment the whole walk to July. But he’d done it anyway. Because he knew it’s what Vash would want.

Wolfwood had still betrayed them, and was still a complete enigma to Meryl in a lot of ways. But looking at him there, knowing that he’d put himself in danger to help Vash in a way…

He looked different than the man she’d hit with the trailer.

“He got me new clothes too, if it makes you feel better,” Meryl said. “You’re not that special.”

Wolfwood snorted. “That does help, actually.” He pulled away from the embrace and snatched his sunglasses off of Vash’s face. ���We gonna get back into town before they notice we’re gone?”

“Shoot, yeah, we probably should…” Vash grabbed the thomas’s reins. “C’mon. This way.”

They kept moving as if nothing had happened. That didn’t stop the moment from sticking in Meryl’s mind.

At least it was a more pleasant memory than the one she’d been trapped in.

.

He waited until the others had gone to sleep before trying the clothes on.

It shouldn’t have been nerve-wracking. It was just sturdy work pants, a shirt, the jacket, nothing fancy, all secondhand if the lingering smell of cologne was anything to go by. But it was what Vash thought he would like, what Vash thought he’d actually wear. It was an outfit that Vash thought Nico would wear.

Wolfwood didn’t know what to expect from that.

Everything fit, more or less. The work pants had been black once but had faded into a dark gray. The shirt—long-sleeved, no collar, one of those shirts with only three buttons down the front—was a lighter color, closer-fitting than his usual button-up but still loose enough to be comfortable. Vash had included socks, which almost felt like a passive-aggressive judgment on his usual outfit, but ones Wolfwood planned to wear anyway just to keep his ankle wound clean. He unbuttoned the top button on the shirt before turning to look at his reflection in the bathroom’s full-length mirror.

He wasn’t sure who he was seeing at first. He looked…normal. Like he could be any guy who’d wandered into Hopeland looking for work. He could’ve sworn he looked older, too, though he wasn’t sure how that was possible. Wolfwood tried putting the coat on—long, black, collared—but it didn’t do much to make him look more threatening. The person in the mirror didn’t have blood on his hands or a thousand wounds that should’ve left scars. He was just…

Just…

“Damn it, Vash,” Wolfwood breathed.

He got out of the outfit as quickly as possible, but folded it up slowly and carefully. He crawled back into his cot afterwards, though he knew he wasn’t going to get much sleep. Not with his thoughts rattling around his skull like loose pebbles. If he wasn’t thinking about the Eye or Roberto or how Meryl was holding up after seeing her boss again, he was thinking about the weight of Vash’s embrace, the way his voice shook when he talked.

But you did do it for me.

It felt like a weird thing to say, like there was more to his reaction than the fact that James’ people would get the help they needed. He just couldn’t figure out what.

I mean, I know I said he’d better be grateful for this, but…

The sound of someone moving in the room made him shut his eyes, his body relaxing instinctively into fake sleep. From the lightness of the footsteps, he guessed it was Meryl who slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. Whatever she was up to in there was none of his business, but he found himself keeping an ear out anyway. He could only imagine what kind of shock to the system seeing Roberto again must’ve been for her.

He regretted the move almost instantly, because overhearing the first muffled sob made him feel like absolute shit.

Wolfwood thought about getting up and knocking, but what could he possibly say to her? He’d taken cigarettes off the man’s corpse. Nothing he could say about that mess would comfort her.

But leaving her to cry alone in a hotel bathroom didn’t feel right, either.

As Wolfwood lay there in the dark, frozen with indecision, Meryl made the call for him. He heard the door slip open, the sound of her footsteps, the creaking of the cot as she went back to bed. He didn’t know if she actually slept.

He sure didn’t, though.

.

A new portal didn’t appear for several days

Meryl understood why. Even now that the crisis of fungus distribution was resolved, Vash had a lot on his plate helping out. Bare minimum, he needed someone to tell him when to take a break—or, as Wolfwood’s strategy was on the first day, to wave a sandwich around in front of Vash but refuse to give it to him until he walked away from work to actually eat in peace. “I’ll force-feed you if I have to,” he threatened.

Vash hadn’t fought him. The excitement of the previous night had clearly wiped him out. He’d ended up falling asleep on the floor in their room at dinner, curled up right next to Meryl. “Too bad you don’t have your camera,” Wolfwood said as he moved Vash into his bed. “We could’ve used the photographic evidence next time he wants to complain about resting.”

Despite herself, Meryl smiled. She was worn out, too, though it was more from the still-lingering memories of the future than it was from the actual work. Keeping herself busy had kept a lot of those memories at bay, but she was worried they would hunt her down when she tried to sleep.

She didn’t fall asleep right away, but she wasn’t plagued by nightmares, so she took the win and went back to work.

Things were slightly less hectic the next day. Several people were discharged from treatment, which seemed to life Vash’s spirits. The town wasn’t out of the woods yet, but everyone seemed to think they were headed in a positive direction.

That was also the day Wolfwood taught several kids in the treatment ward what a chaser was by making them shot glassed of chopped up fruit cocktail to down after they took their medicine. Meryl wasn’t sure if that improved or worsened their opinion of him.

“They took their medicine, didn’t they?” Wolfwood pointed out over dinner. He had polished off his serving and was examining the stitches on his ankle wound. “It’s not like I was encouraging them to drink. Just showing them how to make something less gross.”

“A tactic originally invented for drinking,” Meryl retorted.

“Yeah, and cars can be used for transport and as a blunt force weapon. What’s your point?”

“You are never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope.” Wolfwood reached into his pockets and produced a pocket knife. “Listen, one of them has a bartender for a dad. He probably already knows how to make a mixed drink – “

Vash reached over and caught Wolfwood’s wrist. “Don’t just rip those out,” he said, worried.

“What do you think the knife is for?”

“I have scissors, let me…” Vash stood up to get his first aid kit. “You don’t want to get an infection.”

Wolfwood, just for a second, looked like he wanted to make a retort, but bit it back quickly. He did re-pocket the knife, though. “Do you want something for the pain?” Vash asked.

“It’s just stiches. Don’t waste painkillers on me.”

It was a shame Wolfwood had lost the last of his vials; the things may have made Meryl’s skin crawl, but she was sure taking one would be preferable to walking around on a damaged ankle. It didn’t look as bad as she’d expected it to, based off what Wolfwood had told her about it. Maybe he could heal on his own like the white-haired man, just slower.

I wonder if there’s a good way to ask Wolfwood about all of that. She knew a lot more about him now. It wasn’t like he could keep it all a secret forever…

“Are you guys from the future?” Vash asked suddenly.

Meryl froze. Her gaze met Wolfwood’s; he looked just as taken aback as Meryl did. “Uh…” He cleared his throat. “What makes you think that?”

“You knew that man back there, both of you. When I was a kid, Meryl said something about c-cents way before we had currency, and she knew my name. You talk about stuff that doesn’t seem possible from being on a SEEDS ship or being on Earth, and none of you seem really surprised by stuff going on…” He cut free another stitch before looking between the two of them. “So, did the portals bring you from the future?”

Again, Meryl looked to Wolfwood. He looked resigned more than anything. “Better guess than your angel theory,” he grumbled.

“Is that a yes?”

Screw it. He was going to find out the truth one way or another. “We are,” she sighed. Vash’s grin was so bright and triumphant that she couldn’t help smiling back. “What year is it?”

“PE 80.”

“My birthday is…” Meryl froze. “Oh.”

“What?”

“I’m going to be born next year.” Of course, she’d known there was a good chance the portals would bring her to her own lifetime, but now it felt real. “My mom might be pregnant right now.”

Wolfwood barked in laughter. “Hey, maybe we could try finding you next year. See what you looked like as a baby.”

“No. No, we’re not doing that. Ugh, it’s bad enough we…”

Again, Meryl froze, but this time it was from a sense of dread and shame. The mirth fell out of Wolfwood’s eyes as he realized what she was thinking of. Vash quickly caught onto the mood. “That man, was he…family?” he guessed.

Meryl shook her head. “He’s my boss. Will be my boss, in a couple decades. I’m not a police officer in the future, though. I’m a reporter. I don’t know what made him switch careers…he never talked about it.” She set her dinner aside and pulled her knees up to her chest. “I didn’t really know a lot about him, to be honest. He didn’t like talking about himself.”

Wolfwood’s teeth clicked as he flexed his jaw thoughtfully. “He was nosing around powerful people,” he said finally. “If I had to guess, either he got sick of being stonewalled and left, or he got forced out for causing problems. Explains why he didn’t have a high opinion of military police.”

That made sense. Maybe he became a reporter because he thought it would be a different way to get the truth…only to have that not work out for him, if the way he talked about his job was any indication. So many things about him made sense in light of Wolfwood’s theory.

Coward’s a word for the privileged. She understood what he meant now.

“That’s why you said you were with communications,” Vash said suddenly. “Because you’re a reporter. That’s really cool, actually.” He went back to removing Wolfwood’s stitches. “What’s it like in a few decades? Any different?”

“Honestly…not much. Not from what I’ve seen.”

“July’s a little more developed,” Wolfwood said, “but not much has changed since we got all the major towns built. Only so much you can innovate in a place like this, I reckon.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. It’s a miracle we all made it to stable. Expecting too much change in so short a time…” Vash laughed quietly. “It’s funny. Twenty-three seemed so old when I was a kid, but now…”

Meryl glared at him. “You’d better not start treating me like an underclassman or something,” she said.

“I won’t, I won’t, I promise. It’s just funny.” The last of Wolfwood’s stitches was carefully removed, and Vash started cleaning the injuries. “So, do we…know each other? You don’t have to give me any details, just…yes or no.”

Damn it. Meryl had a feeling he already knew the answer, especially when Wolfwood had told him the portals were Plant-related. It was just a matter of how many details he wanted…how many details were safe to give. “Yes,” she said carefully.

Vash nodded thoughtfully. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll act surprised in a few decades, I promise. Don’t want to ruin a good thing.” He looked between the two of them again and smiled. “Guess that explains why you keep finding me.”

“You’re taking this really well.”

“Like I said, a good thing. I mean, it is for me…” Vash stared morosely at Wolfwood’s ankle. “…I know, this is probably confusing for you. I’m sorry…”

“No, no, don’t be. It’s not your fault.” Which was arguably not true, but Meryl wasn’t going to hold what happened against Vash. She wasn’t even sure he’d known what he was doing. “I’m happy to help. You’re my friend.”

“And you’d probably be dead without us.” Wolfwood tousled Vash’s hair hard enough to make it stick up. “This isn’t even the worst thing to happen to me, so quit looking at me like you killed my dog.”

Vash’s smile came back as he smoothed down his hair. “I’d do the same for you guys, for whatever it’s worth,” he said. “Though you’re probably involved in less nonsense than I am.”

“I was. I don’t know about him,” Meryl said. The sudden, serious look on Wolfwood’s face made her uncomfortable. She pushed on: “I mean, unless you wanted to help me with my advanced classes.”

“I am known to read a math book for fun sometimes.” Wolfwood made a disbelieving noise. “What? Math can be fun. It’s like a puzzle.”

“I say again,” Wolfwood said, “I am the only normal person in this group.”

That was probably the least true thing he could’ve said, but Meryl decided to let him have this one.

.

Sad thing was, this wasn’t even the first time he’d dreamed about someone trying to kill him.

Suffocation was a new one, he’d give his brain that. But it wasn’t the hands around his throat that made him feel chilled and anxious when he woke up. It was the memory of what was suffocating him. Two sets of hands, one holding him down, one wrapped around his throat, feathers that glinted like steel, a pair of eyes that stared down bright and burning, like looking directly into the sun. He tried to grasp more details as he lay in bed, breathing slowly to calm himself, but those eyes drowned out everything else.

Is this about the fungus? he thought blearily. Because I don’t think I should be punished for that. It was stealing for a good cause, honest…

He rolled over in bed, and nearly jumped out of his skin. “Shit - !”

Vash yelped quietly and fell back onto his ass. Both of them froze immediately, staring at Meryl’s bed. She rolled over, mumbled something in her sleep, and stilled again. She wasn’t the deepest sleeper he’d ever met, but she must’ve learned to sleep through the odd noise while they were on the road.

Which was good, because Wolfwood had questions.

“Were you watching me sleep?!” Wolfwood hissed.

Vash’s mouth opened, then shut again as he looked away. Wolfwood could see how embarrassed he was. “…only for a few seconds,” he admitted.

“…is this…a recurring thing with you, or…?”

“I had a nightmare.”

So did I. And rolling over to see Vash’s eyes staring at him had been the shock of his life when those sunlight eyes were still so bright and searing in his mind. Vash’s weren’t so harsh, though; more like the glow of a full moon. Freaky as shit that they glowed at all, but Vash’s quiet tone of voice was more important in the moment. “I haven’t died on you,” Wolfwood grumbled, “if that’s what you’re worried about. C’mere.”

Vash got up carefully and sat down on the edge of the cot. Wolfwood pulled himself up into a seated position and wrapped a blanket around the both of them. Vash leaned against him immediately. He’d removed his prosthetic arm, which left him looking more vulnerable. Small. “Do you want to talk about it?” Wolfwood asked.

“Not really.” Vash’s eyes half-closed. He sounded tired, looked tired. “I was…thinking about my brother again. Guess it bled over.”

“Have you tried not doing that?”

“I can’t help it.” Vash glanced down at his intact hand. “Don’t know why I bother trying to understand him. He hasn’t exactly been reciprocating lately.”

The bitter tone in his voice brought a lot of mixed emotions. It was good he was seeing sense, but it obviously hurt him. “He hasn’t tried to talk to you again, has he?” Wolfwood asked.

“No, not since he killed all those people. Sometimes I think…I think I can feel him watching me when I’m helping a Plant. Or when I’m dreaming. But he hasn’t tried to talk to me. I wonder if…” Vash scoffed quietly. “…if that’s him trying to punish me. I’ll be pissed if it is, because…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but Wolfwood could guess the ending: It’s working. He might not be able to comprehend how Vash could still love Knives after everything he’d done, but he could get how being frozen out of knowing what he was up to would feel. It’d be nice if they could somehow get someone else to put the guy under 24/7 surveillance. That way they’d know for sure if he was up to something or just playing the piano somewhere like a dramatic jackass.

“I almost wish he’d just hunt me down and get it over wi – “

Before Wolfwood could make a very valid protest, something flew across the room and hit Vash in the face. “Do not talk like that,” Meryl said.

Ah, shit. Guess she was awake enough to eavesdrop. Not that Wolfwood minded this time; she’d said everything he’d wanted to say, and with a hat to the face to cap it all off (pun intended). Vash frowned at it before putting it on. “This is my hat now, if you’re going to be like that,” he said.

“Don’t dodge my point,” Meryl grumbled. She crawled out of bed with her blanket wrapped around her and sat down next to Vash. Funny thing; her bedhead, barely open eyes, and blanket cloak making her look smaller did not make her look less fearsome. If anything, she looked cranky and uninhibited enough to bite, if she had to. “There’s got to be something you can think about that isn’t Nai. You can’t let him win by living rent-free up there.”

“She’s got a point,” Wolfwood said. “And not the sick people, either. You’re gonna drive yourself crazy if that’s all you can think about.”

Vash nodded. It was quiet for a moment, but then he straightened up. “Do you guys drink?” he asked.

“Yes,” Wolfwood said. “I have no idea where you’re going with this, but I’m in.”

Meryl sighed. “Honestly, I think we all deserve one at this point,” she said. “I’m in, too…” She yawned. “As long as it’s tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” Vash said, and his smile seemed genuine. “Tomorrow’s perfect.”

.

More people were getting better. Things were still going smoothly. It was enough to put Meryl in a good mood as they walked to the one open bar in town…until they actually stepped inside.

She’d expected the place to be either packed to the gills or abandoned. It was the latter, and she had a feeling the display board behind the bar had something to do with it. It seemed like the people in charge had decided to prevent drunken mishaps during a pandemic by putting multiple restrictions on alcohol consumption. Only healthy non-doctors could drink, and not enough to get anything worse than mildly buzzed. She didn’t disagree with the rules in theory, and she hadn’t intended to have too much herself, but the duo of police officers watching the room like overzealous hall monitors did put a damper on the atmosphere.

“Well, this is sad,” Wolfwood said flatly.

“They’re the only place in town that’s still selling alcohol,” Vash said apologetically. “They make their own whiskey, though. It’s pretty good.”

“I’ll try that, then. Meryl?”

 She shrugged. “The same.” It all tasted the same to her, really. Might as well just go along with popular consensus.

“I don’t know how the ice machine is doing, so it’ll have to be neat. You guys grab a table, I’ll be right back.” Vash jogged to the bar. The person behind the bar, who had so little to do he was reading a book, did seem to be welcoming, so that was a good sign. Meryl picked a table nearby, with Wolfwood following close behind her.

“I did my first interview with him in a bar,” she said quietly.

“No shit? How’d that go?”

“He told me that his evil twin who looks exactly like him was the one actually stealing Plants and that he was completely innocent…so you can imagine how I felt at the time.”

Wolfwood snorted as he sat down. “It does sound like bullshit until you’re actually living it.”

“That wasn’t even the wildest part. The entire town tried to take him in for the reward money before I could finish the interview, right after he’d saved them from the place being scatter-bombed. And the Nebraskas showed up in the middle of all that. Then E.G. the Mine, then Knives…then you three days later…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did you know him at all?”

Wolfwood tensed for a second before glancing Vash’s way. He was still at the bar, chatting with the bartender and looking more relaxed than she’d seen him all day. “Who, Hamilton? I heard other people bitching about him, but that’s it. I had shit going on, didn’t really pay much attention.” His eyes met hers, hard and defensive. “And don’t ask, because it’ll put me in a bad mood and I think Vash needs us normal right now.”

He was right about Vash, but it was still annoying. Meryl mentally filed that away for later and looked back Vash’s way.  He was walking back over with a tray holding three glasses of a light brown drink and a basket with some kind of fritters. “Here we are,” he said as he set down the tray and took the last chair. “Careful, those are hot. What are you guys talking about?”

“Dive bars we have known and loved,” Wolfwood said as he picked up one of the glasses. “Or ones that weren’t worth the trouble.”

“Because they were expensive or because you ended up getting shot at?”

“Mostly the second one.” Wolfwood distributed the rest of the glasses before holding his up. “Cheers.”

Vash lifted his with a smile. “To all of us being here, and to conflict resolution.”

“Here, here,” Meryl agreed as she lifted hers. The clink of their glasses tapping together still managed to sound cheerful, even with how empty the bar was. The first sip of the whiskey was about what she’d expected based off the sip she’d taken from Roberto’s flask: harsh, filling her mouth with a stinging sensation, but weirdly with a taste that reminded her of a wood campfire. Wolfwood looked taken aback. “Oh,” he said, “that’s not paint thinner. Damn.” He took another sip. “I get it now.”

Vash beamed as he took another sip. “I told you. What was the first drink you ever had? Mine was wine. Luida let me try a little when they managed to make some back home. I didn’t really get the appeal back then.”

“It was beer for me,” Meryl said. “Well…part of one. My dad let me try a glass halfway through high school. He said other kids my age were starting to drink, and that I should at least know what it tastes like and how it makes me feel while I was somewhere safe. I didn’t finish it…or go to any parties after that, but I appreciated the thought.”

Wolfwood shrugged. “Beer for me, too. Couple bottles I got at a general store. Tasted like piss, but it did the trick.” He took another sip. Meryl thought she saw his eyes go distant, just for a second, but he recovered before she could read into it too much. “Shame they’ll probably arrest me if I have more of this. Better than the beer.”

“Maybe I’ll buy a bottle when this blows over and hold onto it for next time. Give us something to look forward to.” Vash’s gaze slid across the room. “Something nice, you know?”

There was a piano in the corner. It looked like it hadn’t been played in a while. Meryl thought back to Vash playing on Ship Three, how happy it seemed to make him. She wondered when he’d played last. Wolfwood must have been wondering the same thing, because he leaned over and whispered, “You thinking about livening the place up?”

Vash hesitated. His fingers drummed against the side of the glass before he took another sip. “It’s been a while,” he admitted. “I might be out of practice.”

“You’re probably still better equipped to play than anyone else here.”

“Or on the whole planet,” Meryl added. About 130 years of even sporadic practice was probably more than most people got. “I’m sure no one will mind.”

Vash took another sip, one that went on until he’d basically drained the glass. “Okay,” he said as he stood. “But if I embarrass myself, I’m blaming you two.”

“That’s the spirit,” Wolfwood said with a grin. He lifted his glass in salute. “Go get ‘em.”

One of the police officers watched the exchange warily, then started giving Vash the stink eye as he sat down and started playing careful strings of notes. “Is he allowed to do that?” he asked.

“I didn’t see anything on the rule board,” Wolfwood shot back. “Or are you just the fun police?”

The bartender waved them off. “Eh, just let him. I don’t know how well that thing plays – “

The next notes to come flying out of Vash’s hands, so suddenly and with such enthusiasm, made everyone shut up immediately. It took Meryl a moment to recognize the tune, but she broke into a grin when she did. It was “Rhapsody in Blue”, though a different version of it than she remembered from before. It sounded more complicated than the one he’d played as a kid. Despite him saying that he was out of practice, he was good. He made fewer mistakes than she remembered, recovered well from the ones he did make, and played with more confidence the longer the song went on. His arm glinted in the light as he played, and Meryl saw a flash of teeth as he smiled.

It was so joyful. Even Wolfwood seemed to feel it; when Meryl glanced his way, he was watching Vash’s hands, looking transfixed by how fluidly they moved. Hands that could kill, Meryl thought, but chose not to. Hands that seemed so much happier and better suited to something like this.

Vash played the last notes of the song. They drifted through the air like a cool breeze on a hot day. Someone started applauding, then a lot of people joined in. Mery looked around the room. Occupancy had more than doubled. People passing by must have heard the music and stopped to listen. Vash looked startled, then bashful. “Uh…hi, everyone,” he said.

“Play another,” someone called. “Please?”

Murmurs of agreement swept over the room. Vash met Meryl and Wolfwood’s eyes. She nodded encouragingly while Wolfwood called, “You heard them! Another!”

Vash’s blush deepened, but he turned back to the keys. “Another one, then,” he said.

Except this time, he didn’t just play. After a brief stretch of notes, Vash started singing, too.

When are you gonna come down? When are you gonna land? I should have stayed on the farm, I should have listened to my old man…

Meryl didn’t know that one. She wondered if it was like Rhapsody in Blue, something so ancient that even its composer’s grandchildren were dead, but kept alive by others and brought into the stars. Vash definitely knew it well, singing each note without hesitation.

I’m not a present for your friends to open, this boy’s too young to be singing the blues…

Maybe this song had been sung the same way once, in a bar with a dusty old piano, as a small shelter against the storm outside. Humans couldn’t be that different than they once were, after all, and while Vash wasn’t actually human, this could be something universal. The real bridge between humans and Plants.

Who didn’t love music?

Oh, I’ve finally decided my future lies beyond the yellow brick road…

The people at the table next to theirs were smiling ear to ear. Wolfwood leaned over to her. “Reckon this is one of the only times people have been happy to have Vash the Stampede in their bar,” he whispered.

It was a good point—sad, yes, but true. Meryl wished more people knew about this Vash, and that money wasn’t such a heavy motivator to turn on him.

Before she could reply, Meryl noticed a change in the music. Instead of stopping, Vash flowed into a new song with ease.

Once there was a way to get back homeward…

Did she know this one? She felt like she did, but she couldn’t place where she’d heard it before. Meryl leaned over the table and listened closely.

Golden slumbers fill your eyes, smiles await you when you rise…

She’d definitely heard this one. Somewhere on the road, but not on the radio. And she didn’t think it was from Vash, either. That left Roberto and…

Wolfwood had a distant look in his eyes, but not a painful one. When Vash glanced over his shoulder and smiled at them, Wolfwood smiled back almost thankfully.

Wolfwood. She’d heard Wolfwood hum it before. What came next in the song confirmed it.

Boy, you’re gonna carry that weight, carry that weight a long time…

She’d definitely heard Wolfwood hum that. Her clearest memory of it was on the ship, after the sand steamer. Wolfwood had been leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, picking at his cuticles and humming to himself in almost the same self-soothing way Vash did.

Boy, you’re gonna carry that weight…

“Carry that weight a long time.”

Meryl’s eyes widened. He was singing along, but not in the off-key, noisy way she remembered from the future. His voice was a bit rough, sure, nothing like Vash’s crystal-clear and pitch perfect performance, but in a way the roughness covered for other flaws. There was something oddly comforting about it, even if it wasn’t traditionally “good.” She understood why Vash liked it.

Wolfwood met her eyes. For a second, she was worried he’d stop, but he just smiled a bit sheepishly and kept singing.

“You’re gonna carry that weight, carry that weight a long time…”

Meryl smiled back.

Just when she thought the song was about to wind down, Vash’s playing suddenly shifted, becoming more upbeat.

Oh yeah, all right, are you gonna be in my dreams tonight?

Wolfwood straightened up. “What?” Meryl asked.

It’s…I forgot how this part went. Been trying to remember for…” He shook his head. “Shit.”

I love you, love you, love you, love you…

It was another moment of raw openness from Wolfwood—one hand pressed over his mouth but unable to hide a smile, disbelief and happiness in his dark eyes. She didn’t know the details that would lead to him looking that way over a song, but…

Did it really matter?

No, Meryl decided as she had the last of her whiskey. No, she could let this one stay a mystery for now.

And in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make.

.

It was especially cold that night, but that didn’t stop Wolfwood from sitting on inn’s front porch.

He didn’t think about his parents all that often. His way of dealing, he guessed. They were dead and buried and he’d never gotten the chance to really know them. Tragic, but a lot of people could say the same. No sense in crying about it.

But hearing that part of the song had unearthed some vague half-memory buried by the sands of time and the heaps of bullshit he’d lived through with his uncle. It was grainy, faded like an old photograph, but…they’d danced to that song together, he was sure of it. Him held in Mom or Dad’s arms, one or both of them singing it aloud.

I love you.

He’d been held once. Loved once. Logically, he knew that, but the gap he felt between that ancient memory and himself felt as wide as the gap between his current self and the boy he’d been the day he was taken away. Maybe even wider. Someone like him—Nicholas the Punisher—couldn’t have ever been that innocent. He couldn’t have been…

The door creaked open behind him. “You could’ve at least brought your jacket if you’re going to brood,” Meryl said.

Wolfwood glanced over his shoulder. She and Vash were standing in the doorway. “Physical discomfort makes the whole thing broodier,” he responded. “Or something like that.”

“If I said that, you’d tell me I was being stupid,” Vash pointed out.

“Don’t use logic on me.” Whatever bite Wolfwood was able to put in those words wasn’t enough to scare the two of them off. Meryl draped Wolfwood’s coat over his shoulders; Vash supplemented it with a blanket over both their shoulders as he sat down next to him. “What, we all gonna freeze now?”

“No, silly. That’s what the blanket is for.” Vash grinned at him and held up the other side of the blanket to let Meryl in. “No more brooding. We’re stargazing now.”

Wolfwood didn’t bother protesting. There wasn’t going to be any talking Vash out of this and he knew it. He was a little surprised Meryl had gotten involved, but it may have just been to make Vash happy.

That or she had picked up on something at the bar and was hoping for answers. But if that was her end goal, she could keep dreaming. He wasn’t going to give up anything any time soon.

They huddled together under the stars, not saying anything, shielded from the cold by Vash’s blanket and shared body heat. Wolfwood tried not to relax too much, but the drowsiness of a long few days and the warmth started to get to him. He leaned against Vash and let his eyes drift half-shut.

It wasn’t enough to make him forget what he was—a monster who didn’t deserve this softness—but it was the closest to forgetting that he’d come in a long time.

.

The sound of someone knocking on the door dragged her out of sleep, but the quiet yelp and very loud sound of something hitting the floor was what really woke her.

Meryl sat up straight. Wolfwood was upright too, scrambling for his rifle. Vash was sprawled on the floor, shirtless and down an arm. Someone knocked again. “Mr. Vash, sir?” called a voice. “Are you up?”

“Is…that one of the nurses?” Meryl asked hesitantly. It sounded like one of them, but sleep was still clouding her mind. For all she knew, she was still dreaming.

“Yeah, that’s…Nico, put the gun down…that’s Sally.” Vash rolled onto his back and jumped to his feet. “Hold on!” He put a shirt on before opening the door and stepping outside. “What’s up?”

He shut the door as Sally replied, plunging the room back into silence and darkness. Wolfwood put his rifle back down with an irate grumble and pulled the blankets over his head. Meryl thought about laying down, too, but her curiosity won out over how tired she was. She carefully slipped out of bed and walked to the door. If she lay down with her ear near the gap, she could just hear the conversation on the other side.

“…should be able to supply enough for a round trip. I know it’s a bit out of the way, but it will get everything to us faster.”

“I can do it,” Vash replied. “I’ll check with the others, but they should be okay to help, too.”

“Thank you. I know it’s a lot to ask, but…”

“I said I wanted to help, right? If this helps, it’s not a lot at all.” Meryl could picture the look on Vash’s face: calm, gentle eyes, a small smile, the same look he’d worn in Jeneora Rock when he told the Nebraskas there was no reason not to help. “It can wait a bit longer, right? I don’t think I’ll be able to get Nico out of bed just yet.”

“That’s fine. We still have to finish gathering the supplies anyway/ Thank you, Vash.”

“You’re welcome.” The sound of footsteps was her clue to get out of the way of the door. Vash looked surprised to see her standing there, then sheepish. “Sorry…”

“It’s okay. What was that about? What did they need?”

“Another town has supplies they’re willing to share, but they can’t send them out right away. They wanted to know if the three of us would go get them instead. Is that okay?”

“I’m game.” Meryl yawned. “Especially if they’re letting me sleep a bit more.”

“Yeah, go back to sleep. I’ll let you know if they come back before you’re up.”

“Are you going to sleep?”

“I got enough last night, promise. I’m going to finish these exercises.” He smiled and shrugged. “I didn’t get so good at surviving without work.”

That made sense. He’d nurtured his physical strength and his aim the same way he’d nursed his piano playing: consistently over one hundred years. Maybe that was part of the reason he could do the things he did, if not the whole reason. Millions Knives had been able to do horrible things, hold his own in a fight against Vash, but he used his Plant powers—those awful knives of his a lot more—more than Vash did. If it came down to just strength…

Vash would win, Meryl decided as she crawled back into bed. She might not know for sure, and she was definitely biased, but she was pretty sure Vash would win.

Meryl dozed off another few hours. She woke up to the smell of sugar and the sound of Wolfwood’s whining. “Five more minutes.”

“You said that twenty minutes ago,” Vash replied.

“I’m being singled out. Go bully Meryl.”

“Meryl wakes up on her own.” Something thudded against the floor. “C’mon, I have doughnuts!”

Meryl finally opened her eyes at the mention of food. Vash was waving one of said doughnuts in front of the blanket lump where, presumably, Wolfwood’s head was. Whenever Wolfwood reached out to take it, Vash pulled it just out of reach. “No you don’t. You’ll get crumbs in the sheets.”

Wolfwood flipped him off. Meryl rolled her eyes. “I’ll take it,” she said as she got out of bed. She thought she heard Wolfwood mumble the words bullying me, but chose to ignore it. “Did you tell him?”

“If he’d stop being so lazy, I would.”

“Tell me about what?” Wolfwood’s face poked out from the blankets. “What’s happening now?”

“They want me to go pick up some supplies from another town. They’re going to provide enough supplies for the three of us if you guys want to go, too. You can stay and wait for me to come back, but  - “

“You think I’m letting you out of my sight? With your track record?” Wolfwood finally sat up. “Until we get another…” He glanced towards the door before he looked at Vash again and held out his hand. “…I’m gonna just assume there’s bullshit around every corner.”

Vash chuckled and passed Wolfwood a fresh doughnut. “I guess that’s fair.”

By the time she and Wolfwood had eaten breakfast and gotten properly dressed, Sally had come back with news that the supplies were ready and packed up in a thomas cart. Even with the weight of a few doughnuts and a pretty good cup of tea in her stomach, Meryl wasn’t sure she was ready for whatever the trip ahead would bring.

She didn’t have to worry about it for too long, though. They found a new portal not too long after clearing the town.

“So much for bullshit around every corner,” Vash said. He looked disappointed again, though a little less so than last time. “At least I’ll have plenty of time to think of an excuse for where you guys went.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?” Meryl asked. She didn’t know what the long-term ramifications of delaying re-entry were, if any, but she didn’t like the idea of leaving Vash alone in the middle of an errand.

“I’ll be okay. I figure this means I need you more in the future.” He looked between them with a sad smile. “I’ll miss you both, though.”

“Sap,” Wolfwood muttered, though he reached over to tousle Vash’s hair as he said it.

They only took enough from their share of the supplies to top off what they already had, leaving the rest for Vash to take back to town. Hugs were given, and Wolfwood’s lighter changed hands again. “Don’t use us not being here as an excuse to be stupid,” Wolfwood said. “If I step outta that thing and it’s only a few days from now, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“I won’t, I promise.” Vash gave them both one last fond look. “I’ll see you later.”

How much later and in how much trouble was the question. Meryl hoped they were ready for whatever it was.

And, she thought as she stepped through, I hope I don’t have any ghosts follow me this time.

.

sources cited: songs quoted in this chapter are "goodbye yellow brick road" by elton john and "golden slumbers/carry that weight/the end" by the beatles. this post (and i feel like there was another one but i can't find it) was also influential on the chapter.

[kidge-planet]

KIDGE HEADCANON PART 12!

During the episode 9 season 8, we can find that scene:

Well, I have an headcanon about what happened next, when they got back to the Atlas:

So they came back to the Atlas and got immediately checked by some doctors aboard the ship to make sure that they were ok. Hopefully, everyone was ok (except Allura that had passed out at the end of the mission and was now resting.)

It was just the paladins sitting on the couch in a common area of the atlas but there was no one else around just them. Finally Lance left to go check on Allura because he was very worried about her and Hunk would be going to the kitchen.

So now only Keith and Pidge were in the room: pidge working on her computer and Keith just crossed arms in the couch... He seemed worried:

Pidge: are you ok? You look like you have something in mind.

Keith: I... Actually, yes. I needed to talk to you.

Pidge:ho?... Really? What's up?

Keith: ( blushes a little, not knowing how not sound weird) hummm... I just... Wanted to know... When you passed through the ground, what did you guys saw?.. (that wasn't what he had to tell her.......)

Pidge: mhh.. well... I personally saw a shadow trying to kill me. But it turned out that it was Trigel, the original paladin of my lion. I think it was the same for everyone else.

Keith: ho, I see...

(they stayed silent a moment)

Pidge: is that all you wanted to ask me? I mean, you literally said that you needed to talk to me and just asked a question...

Keith: (take a deap breath) Actually... No, I'm not done. I'm just scared that I'll sound stupid...

Pidge: why would you sound stupid ?

(Keith stands up and comes to sit next to her.)

Keith: you know, back there, I... Tried to, like, save you. I did my best, but I failed... Your hand slipped from mine. And, well, I felt so bad after that. I felt like I had lost all of you... I felt like I lost you.. But you know, for you, it was different, I really tried to save you! I did! And I failed. It all just made me realize how dangerous this all is... It made me realize that we could lose one of us easily... I'm just... So glad that you survived and... I want you to know that I'm sorry that I couldn't save you... I sound stupid, but it really keeps coming in my mind... I'm glad you're here.

(Keith blushed and looked away, feeling vulnerable.)

Pidge: Awww, Keith, that's so sweet!... Thank you, I'm glad you're ok too. Really. And stop thinking about what happened during that mission. It never really came to my mind but I forgot to thank you for trying to save me. But why me?.. Like, all of us were getting pulled in the ground...

Keith: Well, I don't know... My instinct told me to save you... The choise wasn't easy, of course, but I wanted to save you first... Don't tell the others tho... I also figured that if I saved you, we would work together to get the others back, somehow... I mean, I thought that you'd find a solution...

Pidge: I understand...

Keith: But anyways, this whole thing made me realize that we might die young after all... You know, I think I always thought that I was strong enough to defeat Zarcon and everything... But I'm realizing that we are now facing something very dangerous... And if we lose one of us... (If I lose you...)

Pidge: hey, I'm sure Shiro told you this before but, as my father always said: "if you get too worried about what could go wrong, you might miss a chance to do something great!" These words help me as a paladin. I am not the strongest, I'm actually far from being an ideal paladin... I could die any minute! But fuck it! If I think about my death during a mission, you can be sure that the mission IS going to go wrong. Nah, I'm just doing things and adapting myself to the situation. What I mean is that you should live in the moment and not think about the future. SO! STOP THINKING THAT IM GOING TO DIE IN OUR NEXT MISSION OR I'LL KICK YOU BUTT! But thank you for worrying tho, I appreciate that from you, emo boy. ( She gently punch his arm)

Keith: You're right.

Pidge: pfff, I'm always right...

Keith: that's true, that's why I trust you.

(Pidge smiled at him.)

Pidge: just, take opportunitys, alright?..

Keith: opportunitys... Mhhh...

( HE HARDLY WANTS TO KISS HER. But he doesn't take that opportunity. Probably not the right moment, he thinks to himself...)

Pidge: so are you going to stay here?

Keith: yeah, I like it here.

(she leans her head on his shoulder. Keith blushed slightly and after hesitating, he placed his arm behind her.)

Pidge: I like it too.

[skullgirrl]

Thoughts on Kat x Dante and Kat x Vergil

I'm suffering through major writers block recently so to try and push myself out of this I'm going to write down my thoughts and hope that they are semi-coherent.💀

I adore a good love triangle.

I see Kat/Vergil and Kat/Dante as two different ship dynamics

Kat/Vergil - right person, wrong time

Kat/Dante - soulmates (whether platonic or romantic)

I am more preferential to Kat/Dante only because we see him actually begin to care for her more than Vergil seems to over the course of the game (if you've seen my blog you know the amount of Kante propaganda I post💀)

The events of the game:

In the beginning of the game, straight off the bat, it's clear Vergil and Kat are very close or "tight" as Dante so eloquently observes😂 Kat and Vergil work as a team. Kat is indebted to Vergil because he helped her out of a tough childhood. Vergil is indebted to Kat because she acts as his right hand. Although, there aren't many scenes in the game where Kat and Vergil are in the same room (much less, hold a conversation together) but we can still assume they're a team and generally like each other. Kat's closer to Vergil than any other member of The Order. Nice, okay...

But then, through the events of the game Kat and Dante have more scenes together. They talk, they trauma bond, and even though at the beginning Dante was weary of trusting Vergil or Kat, he seems to slowly come out of his shell with Kat and trusts them both because of it.

But the siege of The Order's headquarters is really when we get to fully see the "flip":

up until this point, Vergil seemed closer to Kat than Dante was (and perhaps Kat liked Vergil more as well) but the scales have slowly been tipping, increments of weight being adding in Dante's favor.

And then Vergil leaves Kat in the server room😭

the thing most striking to me about this scene imo is that Kat just seems to accept her fate. She accepts that there's no way out for her and accepts her martyrdom for Vergil's cause because Vergil had so easily accepted it too... but Dante doesn't.

He stays with her. He tells her what to do and how to appear the least threatening to the feds. He assures her that he will be back for her even if no one else is.

He shows her a kindness, a thoughtfulness and it humanizes him in this scene.

Dante has to argue with Vergil to go back and save Kat. Dante changes their whole plan because he doesn't want to let this one human girl die. A far cry from the beginning of the game where he brushed them off and said he "preferred to work alone"...

After all this, even after Vergil reveals his plan to rule over the humans, Vergil still seems surprised (or regretful?) that Kat doesn't back him up, but now Kat knows that she can't support him anymore. Vergil is too far gone, too different from the man who saved her from her foster father.

I also just realized that we can see this somewhat mirrored in the framing of the cutscenes:

In most of her scenes with Vergil, Kat is pushed to the back. She's out of focus and otherwise not the main draw of the scene. In fact, it's very easy to overlook her in the shadows.

Whereas in most of her scenes with Dante, Kat takes up as much space on the screen as he does. She's harder to overlook now paired with that fact that she actually has lines in her scenes with Dante. (although this may just be confirmation bias given she has so many more scenes with Dante💀 I think it's a nice parallel)

Closing thoughts, I like both pairings although I feel that the game devs planed for Dante to be endgame. I still like the idea of a love triangle between the three; Dante and Kat close after Vergil's betrayal, Vergil and Kat as old friends turned sour (past crushes? the one who got away possibly?), and Dante and Vergil being brothers but also vying for Kat's attention (blood is thicker than water).

Anyways thanks for reading (or skimming) take this as a treat:

[redwayfarers]

self rec tag game

was tagged by @scionshtola, thank you so much for the tag! I wouldn’t be surprised if these were all Wayfarer because that game eats my braincells for breakfast, lunch and dinner fr

tagging: @archesa, @punkranger, @accidentallyadorable, @roguelioness, and anyone who wants to do it!

✨Something you absolutely adore✨

one of those days (wayfarer) - Cass is having a bad mental health day in this one, but Melchior’s there to support him, as any good partner should. Writing Mel brings me such joy and even though this list is dominated by Intellis, lord knows I have such a soft spot for Cassmel, and for Mel himself.

“You’re murdering that poor eggplant,” Melchior says out of nowhere. “What has it done to you?”

I turn around and set the knife down. “My parents have sex. In general. In Vestra, too. I know the exact bedroom. Big bed, fancy ass curtains. Roses on the sheets. The mwah mwah sounds. All the good stuff.”

“Your… parents?” Melchior blinks. “Cassander, you have three siblings. It’s highly likely that they do have sex. Assuming nothing’s taking the place of that poor vegetable.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s a really simple thing, too. And my parents are doing it.”

✨Something that was challenging to create✨

on theokleia, my mother (wayfarer) - Whenever Cass meets his mother, there’s always some kind of violence involved. In truth, every fic in the Ties that sever, ties that bind series so far has proven difficult to write because they require a lot of finesse and a lot of emotional pain, given the very abusive nature of the whole Inteus family dynamics, and especially Cass and Theo.

“I repeat, Wayfarer,” she continues and her face twists fiercely, “I am not your mother anymore. I don’t know what exactly you think gives you the right to speak to me this way, but cease. Do your contract for the Guild and remember exactly where you are.”

How mightily I am compelled! I dig my nails into my palms  because that’s better than just fucking tackling her to the ground. “Then you shouldn’t have given birth to a kid who looks exactly like you, Theokleia,” I breathe through my nose. “Then you should’ve considered not having any more children after Despina.”

✨Something that makes you laugh (or smile, if that fits more comfortably) ✨

the sound of music (wayfarer) - One of my earliest Intellis fics, and one of the unfortunately rare fics that has Cass be genuinely happy. The boys see a tavern and stay there to dine, but of course, Cass can’t deny himself an opportunity to dance.

“Took you long enough,” he comments, clearing his throat. “I trust you’d like nothing more than to just doze off here, yeah?”

“You have no idea,” I say, voice rough from singing. “I needed that, though. It’s been a rough patch, Aeran. We all need a little joy from time to time.”

“I think you had enough joy for everyone in the room and then some,” he says softly. His lips slightly open, as if he wants to say something, but decides against it, but his eyes look through me deeply and with something that’s not often there.

✨Something that surprised you (in how it turned out, how much other people liked it, etc.) ✨

an unnamed intellis prompt (wayfarer) - Marya, a sailor on the Dareia, clocks that Cass and Aeran have feelings for each other right away, but of course, Cass vehemently denies it. I was genuinely surprised by how many people liked it and reread it.

When she sees Cassander emerge from the cabin next morning, she says with all the fervor of Erenvor's court gossip: "You and your boyfriend really defy the bad luck you Wayfarers bring to a ship, you know?"

Cassander stares. "My what?"

"Boyfriend. Are you married? Husband, then. Lover?"

"I... I have none of those things," he says slowly. "Aeran's my friend. My partner - not in that sense - and a very good friend." He huffs. "Got an issue with friends hugging each other?"

Marya bursts out laughing. He has no idea. "Nashira take me, of course not. But you weren't behaving like friends."

"Stars and hellfire, woman, what's wrong with you? We're friends. Friends!" He crosses his arms. "Back to work, you. Husband, she says. Do I look like the type to have a husband, of all things? Pfft."

✨Something you want other people to see✨

wayfarer week: mentors (wayfarer) - Thesor has one last big thing to ask of his master, Deyna Sereno, before he graduates. I should promote my Thesor fics more, he’s very fun to write too, in a way that’s very different from Cass. I like Thesor’s pragmatic ass a whole lot, actually.

But Aiantes and Theokleia did discover his little secret and did reject him in a very public, very humiliating way. He doesn’t want them - or anyone else - to call him neither Samaras or Thesor. Instead, if they have to refer to him for some unfathomable reason, they could simply say Sereno.

He wants to ask if Dayna’s alright with that. He wants them to know he feels safer with them than he did with his own family. He wants them to know how much they did for him. He wants to be their legacy, not Samaras’ flawed creation.

[scribbledquillz]

I am once again invading your inbox with ask memes haha.

Ship Ask Game - The Basics: Rev & Zev- #12 & #18 ☺️ (take all the time you need for this)

Ship Ask Game - The Basics

Oh noooooo Jin in my inbox again? However will I cope? ...No that isn't a welcome mat, also please just ignore the "reserved for Jin" sign on the lounger. *smooches*

Revka and Zevran:

12. Do they have a difficult time when separated from each other, or are they fairly independent?

I would say both Revka and Zevran operate on a similar field when it comes to time separated. They're quite capable of being independent, seeing to their individual matters and going about their day to day needs - but there's always a piece of them that feels as though its missing. They don't HAVE to be around one another at all times, but if either were given their druthers they would be at each other's side far more often than not. There's a lot of hard won trust, respect and reliance between them, and I don't think there's another person for either of them (with perhaps a slight caveat for Revka with Ceral, but certainly not in everything) who's insight and opinions matter more. Not to mention they're absolutely bonkers in love with each other, regardless of how shit they are at saying it lol.

...This of course makes my canon timeline for them rather unfun when they're unwillingly separated for five-ish years because of the chaos of the Mage-Templar war and aren't 100% sure the other is still alive, but that's some angst for another day.

18. How do they care for each other when one of them is wounded/sick?

Revka is very no-nonsense when it comes to illness. The first sign of sniffles means she's pulling out the respiratory draughts minimum, as well as the lemon honey tea and clear broth soups. She'll tolerate Zevran being up and about for the likes of a head cold - and let's be honest, Zev is quite content to let her dote on him for a day or two without much protesting. Anything too much more than that though, and he's barred from leaving their bed. Particularly if it comes with fever. She was the one who cared for her parents through the illness that took them, and she's seen first hand how quickly fever can take a turn for the worst. No games, no messing around - you get into bed and you rest, damn it.

Zevran is not nearly so insistent as Rev when she's ill. He learned very early on in their knowing one another that it's better to let her reach her limit on her own than try to argue with her stubbornness, regardless how hypocritical she might be being. (She's FINE, damn it, she only got dizzy and fell over once)

Once she's accepted reality and is either unwilling or unable to fight him on it any more, she's put into bed and stays there. Zevran is likely to join her as well, equal parts wanting to make certain she doesn't try to push herself too much as well as liking the excuse of taking some time to lounge in bed together. When she finally sleeps he'll slip away, and by the time she's awake again there's sets of vials from her brother waiting on the bedside table along with a pitcher of cold water, tea and something gentle on her stomach to eat that he's found on offer at the tavern. Much as Zev enjoys cooking, he tends to be heavy handed with the spices, and that doesn't bode well for a sick stomach.

[haleigh-sloth]

I'm quite new to BNHA fandom and shipping, and it's really tough out here I swear 😭 people are telling me to stay away from BKDK's and that they're all toxic, but that can't be true can it? I have talked to a few of them, and they seemed sweet to me and wouldn't it be fair to say that all ships have toxic and non-toxic shippers? I guess it's because it's a popular ship right? have you got any BKDK shippers as mutuals or whatever??? and what advice would you give to enjoying shipping?

Welcome! I hope you have a good time, it’s really fun if you curate what you see and read.

So, I mean, of course not. Not ✨all✨ shippers for ANY ship are toxic and awful. That’s just inaccurate to say.

So idk how familiar with the content on my blog you are—it’s okay if you’re not—but I’m not engaged in any shipping fandoms. Well, not for BNHA at least. So honestly I’m not an expert on how to enjoy it. Curate curate curate. Block blogs who are annoying, mute people on twitter, block on twitter too. Do whatever you gotta do to weed out the weirdos who can't behave.

But on the topic of the fanbase for the ship itself, for some reason in BNHA, idk--people engaged with the ships feel the need to defend their ship's canon potential and compare it to others and "prove" that theirs is more...real? I don't fucking know.

But I’ll be honest, I’ve never seen a fan base as bad about this as BKDK. Yes, it is because it’s a popular ship so it's inevitable it'll be everywhere. But I mean, I don’t see NaruSasu (which puts bkdk to shame) fans acting the way I see some bkdk fans do on such a large overwhelming scale. And NaruSasu has a pretty wild fanbase--but they're mostly funny about it, not....scary. Examples are them arguing with people on Twitter and Tumblr—once again for the purpose of defending their fanon ship’s canon potential—and being SO damn aggressive about it. Writing very aggressive "analyses" about why their ship is bound to be canon, AND that if Horikoshi DOESN'T make it canon then he's the antichrist. A while back, a WSJ cover with Izuku and Ochacko was published and I had someone in my DMs telling ME (idk why me??) that they're "so scared" Horikoshi is going to throw away all of BkDk's development as a couple and make IzuOcha canon, and that he's homophobic if he doesn't....I mean fuck.

I don't have this issue with other aspects of the manga's fanbase. At all.

But it's as you pointed out--it's THE most popular fandom ship, so yes it's going to be everywhere and be more annoying to those of us who don't particularly care to see it thrown in their faces.

But for someone to tell you to just avoid them at all costs is dramatic. If you like the ship, then engage in the content--lord knows you have more to pick from than anyone else in the fandom LOL. Enjoy it.

But YES! On tumblr I do have buddies here who like the ship and....it matters 0. It doesn't matter, because pretty much everybody I follow knows how to behave and not be a fucking weirdo who harasses people and gets insanely scary aggressive online about a fucking ship. If you see people using their ship to shit on other characters and other ships in general and you see that they can't just be--and I'm sorry to use this word--NORMAL about it, then I'd say run for the hills and don't look back.

I generally am not a fan of the current shipping culture because it's turned into very ugly arguments that make my head hurt. So I really can't point you in any direction to get a fun experience with it, but the warning signs that someone is taking it just a little bit too far are usually pretty obvious. You'll know your limits and you'll figure out what you're comfortable with seeing and not. I hope you have a good time though. It's fun here.

[eideticspider]

some notes on shipping with cindy (warning: canon divergence)(also may be essay length)

{✗} so i've been thinking a lot about cindy and ships (b/c i am a slut for ships) and it's got me thinking about her background and experience with romance and sex and ships in general. i am going to deviate from the canon (and you will see why in a sec).

in any case, if you've read through this and you want to ship, reach out to me in a dm!

in the comics, cindy & peter have this really intense physical relationship because of pheromones and it gets really weird--really really fast. i will be ignoring this canon. much like i ignore that weird ben franklin affair with clea.

my canon: cindy had a boyfriend in high school until she was bitten at 16 and subsequently hidden away in ezekiel's bunker. she has some knowledge of the outside world thanks to ezekiel providing videos and books--but she doesn't really have any relationships outside of her family (who she doesn't see for over 10 years).

upon her release, she has extreme social anxiety, but she overcompensates for that by being as friendly as possible. she will make quips when she's nervous. that being said, she's not afraid of arguing when she feels the need to. she's extremely hardheaded and stubborn.

as far as relationships: her relationship with hector dissolved (he moved on and got married) and she was effectively single. cindy is bisexual. she has dated on and off with both men and women--but she hasn't been in any serious relationships since high school. she does have tinder and uses it--although it freaks her out and she hasn't found much success (due to her secret identity).

in order to have a relationship with someone, she has to completely trust them and respect them.

cindy's love language is touch and compliments.

sex: cindy will have a few one night stands, safely of course, but they don't last very long. in order to have an effective and fulfilling sexual relationship, she would need to be in a relationship with that person. if the person she's sleeping with is just a fling, she doesn't let them stay at her apartment--rather she'll meet them at theirs.

**side note: her dirty talk is in korean**

family/motherhood: at some point, cindy does want a family--since being without her family for over a decade, she wants the opportunity to experience that. of course, she's not in any rush (she's only 25.)

[asoulofatlantis]

Okay... I need to say a few things about the information and character-reveals we just recently got. I am really hyped for Kai no Kiseki, but I am also disappointed as fu** and the choices they made regarding the characters in this game. So let's talk about that and some other things related to Kuro no Kiseki and what we know about it so far.

Alright, let's start with the Elephant in the room... WTF are they doing? Were are Estelle and Lloyd and why didn't they even try to include some Class7 characters that were actually surprising or made sense to show up for that matter and how on earth can Kevin show up without Ries? What the Fu** is Falcom even doing?

Look! We've seen in Hajimari that the cast of the Trails-Games is already far too huge and I get that that is a very good reason to not include everyone but this lineup we currently have is a freaking Joke.

And yes, I am all in for Rufus and the the rest of the picnic-squad, not that any of them are a surprise, given Kuro 2 and that there was no way in hell they wouldn't reuse Swin and Nadias character Models and that Rufus showing up at the end of that game obviously was a hint at him being active and thus showing up in this next game, with his favorite Lolie... uh.... I mean Puppet... uh I mean girlfriend... uh... with Lapis by his side. Great that they are there. Rufus looks cool. Lapis "has grown" a bit which is nice and Swin and Nadia are once again likely my only good choice for shipping stuff, so THANK AIDIOS they are back. No complaints here, don't get me wrong!

Kevin has been missed dearly by his fans. And while I am not a big fan of his, I had much less right to ask for my baby to return than the Kevin Fans and yet I was overjoyed to see my golden child back in the game, so of course I am really happy for the Kevin Fans that he is back. What I am not in support of, is that she showed up without Ries. Like... HOW?! How is that even legal? Its like Swin without Nadia. That is just not right! How are they going to explain that? I mean, I would be fine if she would not be playable. If her role is in the background, supporting Kevin in a less physically active way, but she should at least be there, by his side. That is how its supposed to be.

And I fooled myself into thinking she must be there, as she was on the 20th anniversary T-Shirt and it would only be right to bring back all the characters on that Anniversary-Art in a game that comes out in the anniversary year. HOWER. Appearantly that was never the plan to begin with. You can not see her in ANY of the pictures with Kevin. And it feels so freaking wrong!

The reveal of the Cold Steel Characters was boring as shit!

Look! As I was saying I was more than overjoyed to see it confirmed that my Rean is back, because I missed him so much. (Haters gonna hate, but I love the man to bits!) BUT it was clear as day that he would be there. The rematch with Shizuna was immensely anticipated ever since Hajimari/Riveri and obviously Towa has hinted multiple times at Rean being interested/worried about the things going on in Calvard and with his Friends here... how could he not come? So it was really not a surprise. It was rather a matter of WHEN they would reveal it and I think they did it far too early.

Now Crow was the same deal. We knew he was either in Calvard or very close to Calvard and meddling with things that involved Calvard in Kuro 2 already. So there was once again, no way in hell he wouldn't be there. So as nice it was to see my Azure Traitor back, it was not a surprise either.

Lets not even talk about Fie and Towa. Because THEY WERE ALREADY THERE! Of course they would still be there in Kai. That certainly is also not coming as a surprise.

Altrina was the only one surprising. And even with her, we could argue about that. With Rean being there and her having trouble staying away from him, it was almost clear she would come along and also it makes sense Harem-Wise, as she is likely the one who is the least complicated when it comes to answering the question if she is the one dating Rean. With Towa and Fie already in the Picture, dodging that bullet will already be an issue. A huge one. Not to mention that they have been promoting her a lot closely to Kais reveal so... one could see it coming miles away.

So and with Class 7s cast being as huge as it is... THAT IS IT?! SERIOUSLY?

Once again, I get that they can not include everyone BUT! There were plenty or characters who had good reasons to be there. Alisa should be needed given the whole technical stuff going on and I would love for Verne, ZFC and Reinford joining forces, maybe the Epstein Foundation can get a grip and help them too in FINALLY overruling Marduk before they get too powerful. (This purpose also includes Tita and Tio, but as we have NO INFORMATION about the Liberl OR Crossbellteam so far whatsoever - which freaking scares me - I do not dare to complain about them not being there YET, tho Í will give my two cents about this in a minutes as well...) Gaius should be there too, as he deserves at least to be able to fight by his former Mentors side after he played dead just to but the burden of being a Grahlsritter on him. As the church is getting active anyway, why should he not support Kevin in the matter? Kevin is very experienced. Why not take Gaius a bit under his wing or something like that? Next would be Jusis and Millium. We have Altina and Rufus here. Is there any reasons for their Siblings not to be there as well and have some kind of Family picnic or something like that? Not too mention, seeing how Altina has grown, aren't we all dying to know if Millium finally got the "big boobies" she so wished for? XD Jokes aside. I really would like to know how more mature she does look. It feels unfair to see Altina but not Millium. Obviously multiple other characters have possible reasons to be there too. Emma wanted to go east anyway, so might as well be in Calvard for a while. Elliot wanted to go on Worldtournee anyway. And I could go on and on about that. We could talk about wanting to know how the rest of new class7 is faring these days, which I think many people want to know.

And all that aside... I DO NOT GET ALISA OR AT LEAST JUSIS AND MILLIUM BUT FREAKING MINT IS THERE?! URG!

There is much more I would like to say but I think I leave the rest for the next post.

Just as promised my two cents about the Liberl and Crossbell-Teams. Logically speaking, as Renne is here, I think Estelle, Joshua AND Tita should come to her aide in whatever the fu** is going on in Calvard right now. Crossbell should Include Elie because her father is here and Lloyd because he has Familie in Calvard too. And with Rixia here, just as an Non-Playable-Character, Illiya should come along. So. There you have it.

[hitchell-mope]

(The Confrontation)

Winn: hey you.

Samantha: hey. Kara and Eliza get to Smallville okay?

Winn: yeah. Alex and Kelly went with them.

Samantha: oh. Last minute?

Winn: very. As in “Kara was almost out the door” last minute.

Samantha: of course.

Lex: oh that’s nice. So one’s missing, thanks to you, and another’s abandoned the city she allegedly sworn to protect. Also thanks to you.

Winn: get out of here Lex.

Lex: now is that any way to greet your girlfriend’s brother?

Samantha: we’re not related. I’m not your sister.

Lex: oh but you were as good as. Far better than Lena at any rate.

Samantha: well that means nothing. Everybody likes me better than her. She’s insane.

Lex: at the end of the day aren’t we all?

Winn: what?

Lex: all I’m saying is that at the end of the day the public will see you for what you truly are. I mean. Who chooses their children over success?

Samantha: Lionel did.

Lex: no, no, my father hated me. He loved Lena. But he hated me.

Samantha: he loved you both. But you were just too wrapped up in your own ego to see it.

Lex: you lying bitch.

Winn: hey! You don’t get to talk to her like that!

Lex: what are you going to do? Build a ship at me? This is just so typical of you. You align yourself with aliens and you think you are so superior to me but you are not. No one is superior to me. And one day. You will all find out why.

Samantha: get out of my office.

Lex: it was my office first.

Samantha: get away from my boyfriend. Get out of my office. Get out of my building. And stay away from my family.

Lex: and what if I don’t want to?

(He starts choking on air. All the while Samantha’s staring him down like she sincerely wants to kill him. Then she blinks and it stops)

Samantha: what was that?

Winn: I don’t know but it was awesome.

Lex: what did you do to me?

Samantha: I don’t know but I’m glad I did it.

(Lex growls and he looks like he’s about to hit either her or Winn but is stopped by Lillian who’s just followed Cat, Carter and Morgan into the office)

Lillian: Lex. Sweetheart. Don’t do something you can’t take back.

Lex: she did something to me, mother.

Lillian: what? What did she do?

Lex: I don’t know. But I intend to find out.

Lillian: Lex. Lena is still incarcerated. And you just barely got acquitted.

Carter: after he bought the jury.

Morgan: good one kid.

Cat: not right now though.

Lillian: our family cannot afford another scandal right now

Lex: fine mother. For you, I’ll leave. But this is not over.

Winn: is it ever?

Lillian: I am so sorry about him.

Samantha: please just. Just go. Please.

Lillian: of course.

Morgan: and please try to fall back into hell on your way out.

Lillian: Morgan, a pleasure as always(.)

(Once the Luthor’s have gone, Samantha wearily sinks back into her chair)

Cat: what did he want?

Samantha: he either wanted to start shit or he wanted to intimidate me into signing the company back over to him again.

Winn: most likely both.

Samantha: but for now can we please get on with the meeting?

Morgan: of course. Are those sandwiches for us?

Samantha: actually they’re fit me. Kryptonian metabolism.

Morgan: my mistake.

Samantha: there’s tubs of ice cream in the freezer over there though.

Carter: what flavours?

Samantha: phish and butter pecan.

Carter: I’m taking the butter pecan.

Morgan: I’ll take the phish.

Cat: coffee ice cream?

Samantha: no but there’s an espresso machine in the corner.

Cat: I’ll take it. Oh. And by the way. With regards to that, uh, Star Wars manoeuvre from earlier.

Samantha: huh?

Winn: you force choked Lex.

Samantha: oh yeah. That. What’s your idea?

Cat: you have your own base yes?

Samantha: um yeah. The fortress of sanctuary.

Cat: I assume you have a holographic interface kind Kara snd Clark do?

Samantha: yes.

Cat: maybe that can provide some answers.

Samantha: alright then. I’ll try it.

Winn: I can go with you if you want?

Samantha: I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.

(End of The Confrontation)

[valorandgold]

@nobleburn​ said:

Ship Bias for Selena and/or Petra!

INCOMING WALL OF TEXT

Tbh I’m not sure I have five ships for Selena? I mean I could always list Selena/Summoner as one but that’s the coward’s way out and also a bit too self-indulgent methinks ;D Regardless I do have some feelings™️ regarding her potential ships

- Selena/Glen: Number one forever OTP, and I’m still salty that Valter took away the one person Selena was closest to who nearly talked her out of staying loyal to the man who used to be the love of her life (not that she ever told VIgarde that) because he wasn’t that man anymore, you know, Demon King stuff and whatnot. I love their interactions. limited as they may be (BECAUSE OF FUCKING VALTER GODDAMMIT) and want them to be a thing seriously.

- Selena/Ephraim: A bit of a weird ship but tbh, I can see it. If only Ephraim and Duessel could convince Selena to join their side 😭I feel like they’d have really good chemistry in an alternate universe where that happens, given she would probably need time to grieve Vigarde as a result of that regardless. But I could definitely see it happening of the course of time, though Selena would probably think that Ephraim is in some serious need of more discipline...no that’s not a euphemism though tbh I could see them being a bit kinky but that’s beside the point 

- Selena/Vanessa: Okay I know this seems like a crack ship but hear me out. This is one of those ships that’s mainly the result of a long string of interactions that I had when I was running Selena on her own blog once upon a time that she had with a Vanessa, and that romantic chemistry between them has actually led to fanfics of this ship on AO3 by that same RPer, btw. Anyway, back to my main point, Vanessa being inspired and utterly admiring Selena for how far she’s coming and trying to aspire to similar heights in Frelia’s army and the two bonding and falling hopelessly in love with each other GIVES ME LIFE OKAY? There’s a lot of potential there, I’m just saying.

I can’t really think of any other ones right now? Selena/Eirika is a possibility I’ve considered but I’ve not put enough thought into it yet to really list it here. I’m surprisingly not as much of a ship whore for Selena believe it or not (but if I didn’t feel like it was cheating, I would totally list Selena/M-...I mean Selena/Summoner.) 

- Petra/Dorothea: ...look, at this point it’s no secret to anyone that I am utter trash for this ship and I need it in my life and I love these two so much and this is my OTP for her mgnghgh. Just the fact that from the start Dorothea is so accepting and encouraging of Petra, not even caring about her being from Brigid and her difficulties with Fodlan’s language, and she doesn’t take too much offense to Petra’s very blunt way of saying things, and the fact that Petra comes to care for Doro so much and wants her to stay in Brigid with her and the idea of Doro becoming a Queen of Brigid with her (and adopting like all the kids in Enbarr who are struggling like she did once upon a time) and just their sheer chemistry...I can never get over these two, okay? I’m filthy trash for this ship and nothing’s really ever gonna change that.

- Petra/Edelgard: Hey, is anyone else extremely upset that these two never got an A-Support which could have been really interesting and compelling and led to a good ship for these two? I know I sure am. I mean god damn, why could they not have had a full support line like they deserved? It consistently makes me upset that Doro is the only Black Eagles girl allowed to flirt with and have ships with every other girl in the Black Eagles (among others) but Petra can’t have a proper support line with Edelgard, and don’t get me started on Bernie either.

- Petra/Claude: ...honestly I’m not sure what to say here other than have you SEEN their supports? No really, have you? I mean, okay, I know I could have said the same thing about Doropetra but I wasn’t able to contain myself but really, if you’ve seen their supports you should just know. Look, I just love how from the start Claude treats Petra like an equal, even though they both notice how neither one is exactly typical for their social status (though Petra is close enough for Brigid, but not really for Fodlan). And to think their wonderful bonding all starts over Claude being unable to climb trees

- Petra/Ashe: Once again, I’m having a hard time discussing this other than just saying look at their supports? I just love the way Ashe helps Petra adapt to commoner life in Fodlan and she feels like she’s becoming a better and more knowledgeable person because of it whereas he’s just doing it because he loves to help people and wants to help Petra feel comfortable and then she just literally helps him realize his dream by the end of it. “You wanna be a knight? I can make an order of Knights of Brigid just for you and you can my guardian knight, I really like that idea, we’re both ambitious and driven and have goals we want to reach, let’s get there together.” It’s just so sweet and wholesome.

- Petra/Bernadetta: ...actually I literally don’t have much to say about this one because it’s pretty much the same thing as Edelgard. So yeah, salty this one couldn’t happen either to be honest, especially because I love the difficulty of overcoming the language barrier early on for them. It could lead to some really sweet and fun things for them I feel like.