#point B: the kids set up camp at that shelter

[shardkeeperwip]

I know where point A and point B are.

I just need to figure out point A-and-a-half.

[firecat17]

Ice Age rewatch/review/recap/analysis/observations

So four nights ago I watched Ice Age on Disney +.

I haven’t seen it in six and a half years.

While watching it, I just had to recap the whole movie and point out all these observations. Let’s begin, shall we?

Warning: SUPER LONG POST ahead

In very ancient times, a little saber-toothed squirrel known as Scrat is traveling across an icy landscape with an acorn, his only food. He’s desperate to keep it safe, so what does he do?

Haul it into the ice, that’s what. Little does he know that this action causes a massive crack in the ice that eventually results in two huge glaciers colliding into each other.

Still desperate to hold onto his only food, he slides through the glaciers as they ram into each other and barely makes it out alive, only to fall far, far into yet another landscape.

By cartoon logic, he survives a fall that would’ve definitely killed him in real life. He happily caresses his acorn and gets ready to head south with it when an enormous animal foot steps on him, taking it up with him, much to his dismay.

Meanwhile, a whole bunch of prehistoric animals are migrating south for the winter.

Some tapir kids (apparently these ancient tapirs are called “starts”) are literally pretending to drown in mud when their dad comes and tells them they can “play extinction later.” The kids reluctantly agree and leave the mud pit.

Then comes along a woolly mammoth heading north, of all directions, in the heavy traffic. He seems not to pay attention to anything until a start demands him to “move his issues off the road.”

And now for this iconic character’s very first line-”If my trunk was that small, I wouldn’t draw attention to myself, pal.” He moves along indifferently. 

Elsewhere, a sloth named Sid is waking up to find that his family abandoned him yet again. He resigns himself to traveling alone when he makes the mistake of stepping into glyptodont poop. 

Two rhinos are about to enjoy a green salad when Sid comes along and ruins it. On top of all that, he eats a delicious dandelion, apparently the last one of the season.

This really sets the rhinos off. 

They’re preparing to take their wrath out on Sid when the latter runs into Manfred the mammoth. When the rhinos make it clear that they want to kill Sid, Manny comes to his defense and successfully defeats the rhinos.

Grateful for the deed, Sid is about to leave on his own again when the rhinos threaten him from the cliff above, hence he decides he’s going to stick with this grouchy yet formidable mammoth, just in case. Manny learns the hard way that Sid can’t keep his mouth shut.

Meanwhile, in a camp of humans, Runar, the leader of the tribe, is playing with his baby son, Roshan, unaware that on a cliff above, a pack of smilodons is waiting.

Soto, the leader of the pack, is furious. The humans killed half his pack and how wear their skins to keep warm. 

And here’s where we meet Diego, a sinister-hearted warrior. He agrees with his leader on revenge. 

“Let’s show that human what happens when he messes with sabers.”

And, wow, you can hear the intensity just seething through his voice to the brim. We owe his voice actor Denis Leary for fitting the role like a glove.

Anyway, he is ordered to bring the human baby alive. After all, if Soto is going to enjoy his revenge, he wants it to be fresh.

Night is falling and Manny and Sid are preparing to make shelter. Manny is adept at the job, but Sid, not so much. Sometime later, it’s dark and raining. Manny is sheltered from the storm in his, well, shelter while Sid is out in the rain. He rambles to Manny about how his family abandoned him. He then asks Manny if he has family, to which Manny doesn’t answer but simply turn his back on, the first sign that he’s...hiding something. Sid just nonchalantly insists that they talk later then it begins to hail. With no shelter of his own, Sid hides under Manny’s tail.

The next morning, the sabers attack the human camp. Runar and his men fight back. Meanwhile, Diego creeps into one of the tents. Seeing the baby asleep, he prepares to take it, but the baby’s mother, Nadia, hits him with a club and flees the camp with her son.

Diego chases her until he corners her at a cliff. With no other option besides the saber getting them both, Nadia jumps over a waterfall.

Back at the camp, the other sabers are unable to find the baby, so Soto orders the pack out. He demands Diego where the baby is, and once he learns that he lost the baby, he makes a new plan to meet up at Half Peak with the baby. “And it better be alive.” Diego heads off in one direction while the rest of the pack heads off in another.

Traversing through a grove of apple trees, Manny and Sid are arguing about mating. Manny firmly believes that if you find a mate in life, you should be loyal, whereas Sid thinks mating for life is stupid. Their argument comes to an end with an unexpected sight at the bank of a stream: a human woman, weak and on the verge of death, clutching a bundle.

She manages to grip on to a fallen tree and pushes the bundle up toward the mammoth and sloth. Manny wraps his trunk around the bundle. Seeing this lifesaving act, Nadia smiles gratefully and lowers her head. 

Soon enough, the baby wakes up and Sid points out with amazement that he’s okay. But when he looks back at the stream, the baby’s mother is gone.

Manny turns around and walks away. Sid reprimands him for just leaving the baby, and Manny remarks, ”I’m still trying to get rid of the last thing I saved.” Sid finds smoke at the top of a cliff and knows that they baby’s people must be up there. Manny angrily refuses to go with him, so Sid decides that he’s going to do the task himself and tries in vain to scale the steep cliff.

During the unsuccessful attempt, the baby falls out of his blanket and is caught mid-fall by none other than Diego. Manny, however, gets the baby back. 

After appearing naturally threatening, Diego composes himself and insists that the “pink thing” is his. Sid retorts that the pink thing belongs to him and Manny.

“You two are bit of an odd couple.”

Diego, obviously lying, claims that he was returning the baby to his people. Manny knows better than to turn the baby over to a vicious smilodon warrior, which leaves him with no other choice but to return the baby with Sid.

They scale the cliff, only to find that the camp has been abandoned. Somehow, Diego can tell that the humans left the morning and knows where they went. Manny realizes that he’ll need Diego’s tracking skills to find the humans, so he reluctantly lets Diego come along. However, he makes sure that he and Sid hold on to the baby.

Diego’s threatening side shows through when he warns Sid that one day, when Manny’s no longer around to protect him, he’ll be chewing on his back.

The journey is tough, to say the least. Roshan begins crying nonstop no matter how much Sid tries to calm him down. That’s when Manny points out that the baby is wearing a diaper (or, as Manny puts it, “one of those baby thingies”). He then orders Sid to check the baby’s diaper.

Sid, acting disgusted, does so, and pretends to slip, loosing grip of the diaper, which lands on Manny’s trunk. Disgusted, Manny flings it off, only to find that it was clean all along. Still, Roshan keeps crying. That’s when Diego decides to take it upon himself to try calming the baby down by playing peek-a-boo.

“Where’s the baby...there he is. Where’s the baby...THERE HE IS!!”

Of course, having a smilodon play peek-a-boo with him only makes Roshan cry harder. Manny reprimands Diego for scring the baby when the baby’s stomach rumbles, a dead giveaway of the real problem. Manny suggests they find milk for him. The only problem is, there’s none around. Fortunately, they spot a melon nearby. But when they try to grab it, a dodo grabs it.

That’s when they come across what’s basically a dodo doomsday cult.

“Prepare for the Ice Age.”

“Protect the dodo way of life.”

“Survival separates the dodos from the beasts.”

They ask the dodos as politely as possible if they can have the melon back, but the dodos refuse, insisting that the three melons they have are their private stockpile for the Ice Age, which will apparently force them underground for millions of years in order to survive. Manny points out how weird it is to have just three melons in order to fulfill such an endeavor.

The dodos think they’re in the right.

“Doom on you. Doom on you. Doom on you.”

This part was legit hilarious XD

The trio retrieves the melon. Panicking, the dodos order each other to retrieve the melon. In other words, “Tae Kwon Dodos.”

But the Tae Kwon Dodos aren’t as competent as they think. One melon goes over a cliff, after which several dodos follow, apparently too dumb to remember that they can’t fly. Among the dead is their last female (no wonder they’re doomed). Another melon falls into a broiling water pit, which a few unfortunate dodos also fall into. 

Sid gets the last melon, but is cornered by squadrons of dodos. Determined to feed the baby, he fights his way through the dodos, successfully outsmarting them. He does a victory dance and promptly smashes the melon on the ground. Disgusted, Diego points out that they’ll have to find more food, but Roshan happily eats the melon right there. Mission accomplished. 

Later that night, Sid decides to find a meal befitting a conquering hero. He finds an acorn and happily accepts it as a worthy meal, only to get attack by a highly protective Scrat, who fiercely defends his rightful meal.

It’s bedtime for the travelers and Sid chooses to sleep on a rock. But instead of falling asleep peacefully and quietly, Sid remains conscious and even beatboxes.

Lesson learned-never trust Sid as a roommate.

Eventually, though, Manny and Sid do fall asleep. Diego, having pretended to fall asleep, opens his eyes, which give an ethereal green glow in the darkness of the night. He tries to get the baby, but Manny’s trunk tightens around the baby protectively. Then he hears something in the bushes and bounds right up, tackling his packmate Zeke. Oscar, another packmate, is also there and reminds him that Soto’s getting tired of waiting. Diego tells them to tell Soto that he’s not just bringing the baby, but a mammoth as well.

The others are excited about the prospect of eating a mammoth and try to attack then and there, but Diego stops them, reminding them that they’ll need the whole pack to take the mammoth down. When the other sabers leave, he returns to his place and falls asleep. 

The next morning, Manny wakes up to find the baby gone from his trunk. After demanding Diego where the baby is, they both realize that Sid must have taken him without their knowledge. Sid is showing Roshan off to two female sloths in a hot mud bath and they find the baby adorable. Sid claims to have saved the baby from sabers, which impresses the ladies.

Before long, Manny comes and removes Roshan from the tub. After begging Manny that he needs the baby, Manny quips, “What, a good-looking guy like you?” and puts the baby down on a thick tree branch. Sid swaggers back to the tub, only to find that the female sloths are gone, with Frank and Carl in their place. Sid promptly screams in terror. 

Meanwhile, Manny rants about Sid and Diego and points out how non-threatening this human baby is. Just then, Roshan hugs Manny’s trunk, and for a brief moment we can see Manny’s soft side show through and how he’s starting to become fond of Roshan. Then the softness wears off and Manny angrily asks the baby if his trunk looks like a petting zoo. Then Roshan pulls out a few of Manny’s trunk hairs, causing Manny great pain. Annoyed, Manny puts Roshan in time-out on a tree branch.

Sid is fleeing the rhinos when he runs into Diego. Thankful for his, he pretends out loud that Diego is attacking him and begs Diego to put him in his mouth. When Diego refuses, Sid bites the saber, which definitely convinces Diego that Sid deserves to be in his mouth. When the rhinos arrive, Sid is caught in Diego’s mouth and hangs limp and still. The rhinos smell Sid and his unpleasant smell is strong enough to fool them. Angrily, they leave, believing that the saber took away their fun. 

Sid, relieved to have survived the rhino’s wrath, tells Diego to let go, which he doesn’t. Manny arrives and tells Diego to spit Sid out because they don’t know where he’s been. They head off once more on their journey.

Cue the “Send Me On My Way” sequence.

Here we get to see some splice-of-life shenanigans with the characters. First, Sid and Roshan get into a poking match that gets out of hand. Then we see Sid end up on a geyser. Manny and Diego count down from 3 to 1 until Sid gets shot up. This one moment shows the beginning of a brotherly bond between the two.

Sid throws a snowball at Manny and blames it on Roshan.

“Modern architecture. It’ll never last.”

Then we see the herd cross paths with Scrat, whom they ask for directions. Though Scrat doesn’t talk, it is shown here that he does understand spoken language. Manny asks if he’s seen any humans, which Scrat hasn’t. Then comes the world’s first game of charades. Scrat manages to get it across to the trio that he saw a pack, but when he tries to tell them that he saw a pack of sabers, the trio gets confused. Eventually, Diego flicks the squirrel away.

Later on, Sid throws another snowball at Manny and this time Roshan points at Sid. Sid pays for it big-time.

A little while later, Diego spots human footprints and then the humans. Not wanting to let the others see them, he finds a crevice running through a nearby glacier. He tells the others, but Manny doesn’t trust the idea. Diego temps him, saying, “This time tomorrow, you could be a free mammoth.” Freedom sounds like a good idea to Manny, so he reluctantly agrees. Sid, however, is skeptical and opts to choose life, only to be reminded sternly by Diego that the shortcut means life. When he asks the saber if he’s threatening him, Diego snaps, “Move, sloth!” in a loud, echoing voice.

Big mistake. The reverberation causes an avalanche above them, which leaves them with no other choice but to rush into the shortcut. 

As they travel through the icy caverns, Sid gets separated from the others and comes across what we as the Ice Age fandom should rightfully dub the “Hall of Foreshadowing.” A sharp-toothed piranha-like fish, a huge, menacing dinosaur, a sloth evolution, and finally a UFO. He hurries to catch up with the others.

Without the others noticing, Roshan slips off Manny’s back and onto a slippery overhang. The next thing they know, Roshan is shooting straight past them on an ice slide. Seconds later, he has sailed into a tunnel out of sight. 

The trio immediately takes off after him. An epic slide chase ensues, with Sid making a Titanic reference at one point.

In the end, they all make it out of the ordeal alive, with Diego eagerly exclaiming, “Who’s up for round two?” Manny and Sid aren’t eager to repeat the experience, so they all hurry off. 

In awe they find themselves in a huge cavern with human cave paintings covering the walls and ceiling. Intricate drawings depict prehistoric beasts of all sorts, including vicious smilodons chasing after their antelope prey. Sid notices a lack of sloths in the drawings and complains about it. 

Now here we come to one of the most emotional and profound parts of the move.

Sid is the one to find a drawing of a mammoth. He points out how much it looks like Manny. Manny at first thinks Sid is kidding, but Sid continues, “He’s happy. Look, he’s playing with his kid. That’s your problem. That’s what mammoths are supposed to do. Find a she-mammoth, have a little baby mammoth-” but Diego interrupts him. Manny is standing perfectly still in front of the painting with wide, sad brown eyes. “Sid,” Diego urges, “shut up.”

Sid then finally understands what Diego is trying to tell him. 

And here the flashback begins. In stylized hand-drawn animation, a young mammoth calf is playing with his parents peacefully. His parents lovingly embrace each other. Their calf trots off, then abruptly turns around, followed by a band of human hunters. The calf’s mother runs off protectively with him while other hunters surround Manny with spears. Manny survives the attack, but his mate and calf are cornered under a cliff and showered with stones to their death. Manny roars. An agonized, devastated roar bearing witness to something that will haunt him for the rest of his life. 

Feels feels feels!

Back in the present, there is complete silence in the cave. Manny reaches his trunk out to touch the painting of his lost only child. Just as his trunk touches the image, it bumps into Roshan’s tiny hand. Roshan looks up at Manny with innocent eyes, his arms held out awaiting a hug. Manny scoops him up with his trunk and, eyes brimming with tears, holds him close. After losing own baby, he’s more determined than ever to keep this one sage.

Putting the baby on his back, Manny leaves the cave without a word, followed by Sid. Diego lingers for a moment longer and we a glimpse of the process of him changing for the better. He thinks of the pain the human hunters caused Manny. He knows he’s planning to do the same to Roshan’s family.

Meanwhile, the humans are still searching the snow-covered valley for Roshan. The domesticated wolves tracking Roshan have lost his scent, and Runar realizes that it might be time to give up the search.

After the animals have left the cave, they catch a glimpse of Half-Peak. They know that they’re almost at Glacier Pass, where the humans are headed. Sid stands still for a moment and looks down at his feet, suddenly noticing that the snow-covered land beneath his feet feels awfully warm, which he points out.

Diego and Manny dismiss the warning, but Sid isn’t kidding. To make matters worse, he can hear rumbling from under his feet. Suddenly, a blast of hot lava explodes from beneath the ice. Fountains of molten earth burst forth at a rapid pace. It melts the snow, leaving large lakes in its place. The ground beneath the animals’ feet is quickly disappearing.

They immediately high-tail it out of there as fast as they can. As they try to make their way to more safe and solid ground, a section of ice between Diego and Sid melts away and the saber is left on an island of his own. Quickly he leaps to the larger mound that holds Manny and Sid. Manny kicks Sid onto safe ground then jumps after Sid.

Diego leaps out and tries to join them, but misses his mark and lands on a crumbling bridge. He desperately digs his claws into the surface and struggles to pull himself up. Manny hands Roshan to Sid and races back to the bridge to help Diego. He urges Diego to old on, but Diego can’t. His claws begin to slip. Manny stretches his trunk as far as he can to Diego, who digs his claws into the trunk. As Manny winces in pain, the ice begins the crack beneath him. He manages to fling Diego onto solid ground, saving him from the boiling lava lakes. But this doesn’t come without a price.

The bridge breaks beneath Manny and with a forlorn trumpet he falls, disappearing from sight. But in no time at all another explosion of lava hurls him into the air. He falls and lands motionless on the ground. 

Sid races to Manny’s side, desperately begging him to wake up. Manny replies in a small, weak voice, “You’re standing on my trunk.” Sid lifts his foot and Manny gasps heavily. Sid is relieved that Manny is okay, but Diego is confused.

“Why did you do that? You could’ve died trying to save me.”

Manny simply replies, “That’s what you do in a herd. You look out for each other.”

Diego is thankful but uncomfortable. And here we see yet another glimpse of Diego’s developing redemption arc. He reflects silently on how no one in his pack has ever done anything like that for him. It has always been every saver for himself. This selfless act is starting to change everything for him and how he views others. 

Sid jokes that they’re the weirdest herd he’s ever seen.

Meanwhile, Diego’s pack some malicious plans of their own. Zeke is very excited to be getting his claws on a mammoth and plans how he’s going to do it. Soto, however, gives the pack a little lesson on how to do it, using Lenny, a plump scimitar cat, as an example. This shows the contrast between the pack’s ruthlessness and the herd’s selflessness. 

The herd has found a place to rest, and Sid takes it upon himself to put sloths on the wall using a piece of chalk. Manny takes the piece of chalk and, at Diego’s insistence, makes the sloth rounder. Sid gets the piece of chalk back to scratch the drawing off when sparks fly off the wall, landing on nearby twigs and kindling a fire.

Shortly later, Sid, the self-proclaimed Lord of the Flame, gets his tail on fire, but Diego manages to put it out. After bickering with each other, the two notice that Roshan is beginning to walk. Sid is thrilled and tries to get the baby to come to him, but the baby goes to Diego instead. Diego encourages the baby to keep practicing. After this, Manny takes the baby to put him to bed. As he prepares to sleep, Sid and Diego reflect on all that Manny has done for them, how he risked his life for them and is overall a good guy.

With everyone else asleep, Diego lingers awake a while longer, deep in thought. His mission was to bring the baby alive to Soto in an act of revenge. But after learning about Manny’s tragic past and being saved at nearly the cost of Manny’s life, he’s having second thoughts. He looks over at Half-Peak looming in the distance and ponders silently if he really wants to go through with this.

Once the herd is asleep, a certain familiar squirrel brings his frozen acorn over to the fire to thaw it. At first he thinks he’s succeeded, but the heat turns the acorn into a piece of popcorn, much to his chagrin. Again, cartoon logic.

The next day, the herd is on the move again, with Sid cleaning up Roshan. Diego keeps a nervous eye out for the other sabers. How can he possibly go through with his plan to lead the others into a trap after everything Manny has done for him? He insists that maybe they shouldn’t do this because if they save the baby, he’ll grow up to be a hunter. Sid says that since they saved him, he won’t hunt them. Diego quips that in that case, the baby will grow fur and a long, skinny neck and call Sid Mama. He then lets Manny and Sid get ahead of him as he tries to figure out what to do.

Suddenly he sees flashes of saber fur on the next hill. He warns Manny and Sid to get down immediately. When Sid asks what’s going on, Diego admits with sincere regret that an ambush is waiting for them. Manny angrily accuses him of setting them up and pins to the wall with his tusks. Diego apologizes, but Manny doesn’t believe him, saying with rage, “You’re not. Not yet.”

Now here we can see regret and a real change of heart emitting from Diego’s very core. Manny is willing to kill him, and it’s implied that Diego is willing to die then and there to make up for his wrongdoings. 

He still has a chance to make up for it in another way. He tells Manny that he can help them if they simply trust him. When Manny asks why they would trust him, Diego looks him straight in the eye and answers, “Because I’m your only chance.” 

Turns out that Diego’s right. Sid and Manny will have to follow his orders and hope for the best. The hide quietly as the saber rejoins his pack. Soto orders his pack not to give away their positions until they see the mammoth. Soto’s directions don’t fit in with Diego’s plans, so he encourages Zeke to get them immediately as soon as Zeke sees Sid with the baby. Zeke does so with the others following close behind him, against Soto’s orders.

Zeke chases the sloth, who escapes as fast as he can. A pair of tree branches comes to his aid by functioning as skis. One of them falls off, but Sid uses the remaining one as a snowboard, whisking down the slope until he falls headfirst into a snowdrift, sending Roshan flying into the air. Soto grabs the bundle and turns it over, only to find that Roshan isn’t there. In his place is a decoy made of snow. 

Meanwhile, Sid goes to retrieve the real Roshan, hidden in a tree. Zeke follows behind him and leaps at them, but Sid ducks in time to avoid the attack. Zeke lands headfirst in the tree hole. Sid cheerfully jumps on Zeke, pushing him farther into the tree, proclaiming, “Survival of the fittest. I don’t think so!”

Oscar and Lenny are headed straight toward Sid, but Manny holds a large lava spike in his tusks. He swings it and whacks the sabers off the edge. Diego appears from around a bend and Soto orders him to bring Manny down. But Diego blocks the way and firmly orders, “Leave the mammoth alone.”

Soto is confused, then understands that Diego deceived him. He snarls, “Fine. I’ll take you down first.” He leaps toward Diego. The two sabers tussle for a moment, then Soto sends Diego reeling with a punch. Soto turns back to Manny, with Lenny and Oscar on their paws and waiting to help. Manny backs away from the sabers and smacks into a rock wall, trapped. 

Soto chargers toward Manny, but before he can reach him, Diego leaps up to protect Manny, then falls to the ground. Although he’s growing very weak, Diego finds the strength to fight back against Soto. Then Manny’s trunk lashes out at Soto, pushing against the side of the icy mountain. Above Soto some enormous icicles hang from the mountain’s edge. They loose from the impact and fall directly onto Soto.

Here’s where Blue Sky Studios gets away with some, er, off-screen violence.

Manny turns and gives a rumbling growl at the two remaining sabers, scaring them away. Sid happily exclaims, “We did it!”, but the joy is short-lived when they spot Diego lying injured in the snow. 

Now here we come to yet another one of the most emotional and profound parts of the movie. 

Diego breathes weakly and whispers, “We were some team, huh?” Manny insists that they’re still a team. Diego weakly apologizes for everything, showing that he genuinely has changed for the better. Then, despite Sid’s desperate insistence that he can pull through, he solemnly announces that they’ll have to leave him there. If the humans get to the pass, they’ll never catch up with them. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Manny tells him gratefully but sadly. “That’s what you do in a herd,” the saber repeats.

Roshan reaches out and and hugs Diego hard. Diego tells the baby that he has to be strong, that he has to take care of Manfred and Sid, especially Sid. Then Manny pulls Roshan, who gropes toward Diego like a blind beggar, away and puts him on his back. For a while, the remaining herd members linger solemnly over their fallen warrior friend. Then they reluctantly leave him, knowing that it’s time to give Roshan back to his people.

Feels, feels EVERYWHERE!!!!!

Manny spots the humans just as they’re about to enter Glacier Pass. Runar places Roshan’s necklace on a mound of snow as a shrine to his lost wife and son before rejoining his men. Suddenly, Manny and Sid are standing before them. Unaware of the formidable-looking mammoth’s intentions, Runar lifts his spear in defense. Manny grabs the spear with his trunk and tosses it to the ground. The other humans charge toward the mammoth, ready to attack. Then Manny reaches behind his head, grabbing Roshan. Stunned, Roshan signals for his men to fall back.

Manny hands Roshan to his father and watches the emotional reunion of father and son. With their mission complete, it is time for Manny and Sid to be on their way. But Roshan squeals and squirms for his father to put him down. He waddles over to Sid and Manny for a final hug.

“Don’t forget about us, okay?” Sid asks.

Manny promises to never forget about him. He hands the baby back to his father. Runar, with a grateful smile on his face, takes the necklace from the snow and drapes it on one of Manny’s tusks as a special thank-you gift.

Sid, practically sobbing, calls his goodbyes again as he watches Runar and Roshan grow smaller and smaller in the distance. Then he notices the baby covering his eyes and playing peek-a-boo. Sid plays along, trying to smile. 

“That’s right! Where’s the baby?”

Manny tells Sid it’s time to head south. As the humans vanish over the hill, Manny turns-and freezes in his tracks, eyes wide. Diego is limping toward them. Roshan, seeing Diego one last time, does “peek-a-boo,” and, with a gentle smile on his face, Diego does it back.

Feels feels feels!

Sid says, “Bye,” one last time. Then behind him, a familiar voice tells him, “Save your breath, Sid. You know humans can’t talk.”

Sid whirls around, his face lighting up with joy that Diego is okay somehow.

“Nine lives, baby.”

Sid runs to him and tackles him playfully. Manny happily wanders over and offers the saber a lift. Diego declines the offer, insisting that he’s got to save whatever dignity he has left. Sid takes up the offer, which Manny generously grants him, while he cheerfully rambles on about how this will be the best winter migration ever.

All three of them head south. This special herd is together once again, having all been brought together as a found family and changed forever for the better by one very special baby. Little do they know about all the future adventures in store for them.

Twenty-thousand years later in modern times, a tiny chunk of ice is floating in the ocean. It carries Scrat, having been kept alive and unaging inside the entire time, along with the acorn. As the ice washes up on the shore of a tropical island, it starts to melt. As time passes, the acorn becomes unfrozen and settles in the sand. Scrat becomes unfrozen, too, after twenty millennia, and tries to reach for the acorn, only for a wave to wash the acorn out to sea again. Enraged, Scrat breaks free from his icy prison and screams in frustration. Running blindly, he smacks right into a coconut tree, making a coconut drop. Managing to hold the coconut over his head, he plants it in the ground with all his might. Then his ears begin to twitch. A crack in the ground whips up the beach, swishes through the trees, sears rocks in half, and reaches all the way up a dormant volcano, causing an eruption.

Here we go again.....

The end. Whew, that took a long time to write. Special thanks to @puccafangirl for helping to rekindle my interest and to @lunarblue21 for her many observations and analyses that I had to point out myself. I hope you enjoyed!

[praphit]

Gretel & Hansel: White people, hear me!

I know, I know, some of y'all were hoping that my next review would be Taylor Swift's "Miss Americana". 

I'm sorry to disappoint you. Why and how is she still making movies anyway? I thought that everyone associated with "Cats" had been banned from Hollywood.

Now, it WOULD be cool, if Taylor got involved in Horror. I'm thinking that a bunch of horror monsters could get together to track her down; kinda like a contest. They would, you know... do their thing to her, and then bring her back from the dead in the sequel, and repeat the process. Every now and then, they could throw in Justin Bieber or someone else with his same level of annoyance. BOOM! Franchise! So, donate to Praphit Productions (millions), so I can make that happen. I'll just CG Taylor Swift in, if I have to; I'm sure she'd be ok with that.

Just picture Jason Voorhees or Kanye West chasing her.

No, people, I'm here to talk to y'all about Hansel & Gretel!

No, no, no, I'm sorry! "Gretel and Hansel!"

I almost forgot about that blow up in their studio. Y'all remember that?

Sophia Lillis' (who plays Gretel - SHE’S GREAT IN THIS-BTW) first day on the set was raw! 

She walked up to the director and was like "Bleep this bleep! Who is Hansel? Who the bleep is he?! No one knows that actor! What is he, like 5 years old? Bleep him! How is his name first?! So, a woman can't lead a man, huh??! It's always gotta be Hansel first, right?! And what always happens?! That witch bitch always tries to eat them! Bleep that! Y'all know who I is! I'm Sophia bleeping Lillis! I was in "It" one AND two. What has "Sammy Leakey" (playing Hansel) been in??!

Not a damned thing! I want my name first! You will put it first or so help me God, I will UNLEASH THE FURY!"

Director (Oz Perkins): "I actually like that idea"

SL: "I don't give a bleep what you like! Just make it happen!" 

Then, she went to her trailer, and when she came back out, it was "Gretel & Hansel".

(Hansel’s not even in the shot. Lillis was too raw for him.)

Let's see if Gretel fairs better in this story, now that she's getting the chance to lead.

We all know this Brothers Grimm story. There's a family (I don't know what Gretel & Hansel's last name is... we'll just say "Shakur"). So, the Shakur Family was struck by a famine in the land. Stuff happens, and G & H end up off on their own, in the woods, and eventually meet up with a witch, who later tries to eat them.

White people, hear me! Are you listening? STOP GOING INTO THE WOODS! Seriously, STOP! I'm trying to save you. Black people know better, but y'all... smh. I know y'all like to go hiking, and camping, and taking selfies on mountain tops and shit, but PLEASE... STOP! Nothing good is waiting for you out there!

Quit going into the woods to get footage of alleged monsters/spirits. Quit going into the woods to spend the night in cabins. Quit going into the woods to party on the anniversary of the night that 12 people were mysteriously murdered in those same woods. STOP!

JUST STOP! DAMN!

Some of you might be thinking, "Well maybe Gretel will make it. Maybe now that she's leading the duo, things will be different." Nope, she's white... *sigh* so we all know what she and Hansel did...  went right into the woods.

This movie is mainly from Gretel's perspective. Right from the jump, we see Gretel being pimped out by her mama. Gretel of course declines to become a professional hoe, but when she comes back to her mama for a possible different direction in life, Mama is like "Would it have killed you to get on your knees for your family?! We're starving!"

I know - Mom of the Year.

Dad isn't even around. I may have missed something, but I don't remember where he was, or if maybe he ran away, a long time ago. One of those "Daddy went to get a pack of cigs, and never came back" scenarios. He may be off in a land flowing with Big Macs and Fries, Idk. Or maybe, being that his "selfish" daughter wouldn't put-out, he decided to get to work on the corner himself. Who knows where he was in this movie??

Gretel was def tough though. And she loved her brother! She was very protective of him. There is a scene where there's some sort of vampire creature chasing down Hansel, and Gretel stands up to the creature. That's the type of character that she is in this movie. She's smart, tough, and though sometimes hard on her bro, she loves him very much.

Hansel on the other hand is annoying as shit. And Dumb! Man, is he dumb! I'm surprised that we never see Gretel slap him. But, she is always able to compose herself in the midst of her annoying brother, and keep the journey going. She even calms him down at one point with some drugs. They end up eating some shrooms on their trip. Now, THAT'S love, people! Seeing someone in need of calming the bleep down, and offering them some good shit. What's a road trip without a moment when the group gets high??

There's a Lando-looking character that they meet along the way. 

He doesn't have much of a role in this movie. I'm not saying it's because he's black, BUT he's a fascinating, noble character, who's black and barely in the movie. And they do not trust him at all. I'm not saying it's because he's black... you know what?? - YES! Yes I am saying that!

He saves their lives, offers them food and shelter, and gives them specific instructions that will keep them safe. But, after that (the only character so far that has had G & H's best interests in mind), Gretel immediately questions his motives. White women, hear me! If a black man willingly sticks out his neck for you, IN THE DARKNESS, in order to save YOUR life, that's a man that you can trust. Cuz we (black men) all know, that if we try to save a white woman out in public (even if we succeed), there's a good chance that the cops will still swing by to shoot us. They're thinking just like Gretel is in this movie - "I know it LOOKS like they saved her, but... can we really trust him? - let's shoot him just in case." Granted, this Landoish character sends them off (again with instructions for their safety). They had no quarrels about leaving (and quickly).

So, they runaway from the compassionate black man, who just saved them, and they meet an old lady (the witch) who has black fingers, and house smells a lil like death... and they say to themselves "Let's sleep here!" Ain't that some shit??! 

White people, HEAR ME!

STOP!

They don't even question her black fingers, they just let her handle their food. I question people of whom I don't know, with normal fingers, handling my food, but... I guess that's just me.

Then, the rest of the story is legend.

The production design in this movie is absolutely amazing! If this film had no dialogue, and was just silent, it still would have been a beautiful movie (despite the cannibalism:)

The plot, I felt, was secondary to the cinematography.

Some of you might say, "Well that's nice and all, but is the movie scary? Does the witch, at some point, rev-up a chainsaw, and chase the two kids around her house?" No. "Ok, but does the movie, at some point, have little, pale Asian kids making creepy noises at H & G while they're trying to sleep?" NO! "Yeah, but is there some sort of human centipede action happening in the basement of the witch, and she tries to..."

NO! NO! HELL NO! What's wrong with y'all?!

No, none of that. The story that The Brothers Grimm have painted is horrifying enough. Famine and crappy parenting, leading to witch who wants to eat you... I'd say that's all that's required; the director knows this.

They don't need to use any gimmicks, just the same story (pretty much), a lil dark magic, the mentioned cinematography, and well-placed spooky music keep the movie in a consistent place of dread.

I think RT got this one wrong (59%). I don't have much bad to speak of, concerning this movie. I can't give it an A grade, due to it being a copy of a story that we've seen copied many times before. Plus, there are some ending issues I have with it, that I'll get to in a sec. BUT, this film is a hell of a B grade :)

SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!

SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!

SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I WARNED YOU!

A few things:

Soooooo, Gretel has some sort of connection to the witch that is never explained. Apparently, she has within her, the same powers as the witch.

She ends up sending her bro off to Lord knows where. She sends him off on a horse that she says she SPOKE TO, and he (the horse) will get Hansel there (where? who knows??) safely. So, she's talking the animals now?? When did she pick-up that skill? And where the bleep did she even get a horse?

There's some super grease that her and the witch use to do magic, that is never explained.

Now, none of this took away from my enjoyment of the film, but... still though.

There's a message of false empowerment at the end. Like I said, she abandons her brother, so that she can... fulfill her destiny or something. She has dark magic in her, but she is convinced that she'll use it for good. Like I said, Gretel is a SMART character... what happened to all of that smart? It's like saying "Hey, I have this STD, but instead of tending to it, I'm going to use my STD for good. It's going to be hard, but I've gotta be strong."

WHAT?!

I said "false empowerment". The movie isn't painting a picture of this being a good thing, but the "false" part is subtle enough to where people could walk away thinking it's an empowering message.

You abandoned your brother to become a witch! But, maybe I'm not being fair. Perhaps Gretel will be just fine. Throughout the history of human beings, we've had many people who were in power, and who thought that not allowing their power to be checked was the brave and noble thing to do. I think those times in history all worked out well right??

I could have added some pics to accentuate my last statement, but I feel it might have been a little too real:)

So, instead I'll leave y'all with this slightly less horrifying pic

... and bid you adieu.

STAY OUT OF THE WOODS!

[isthemedia]

Ao3 Link

Chapter 1 NSFW

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 NSFW

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 NSFW

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 NSFW

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15 NSFW

Chapter 16

(Since I will be working on Saturday I won’t be able to post on my usual days...so here’s an early post. The next chapter should be here Friday like usual. And Next week will resume usual updates) 

--

                                                        Chapter 16

Shit shit! He had to stop grinning! He knew he was probably freaking out some of the other staff, or at the very least making them uncomfortable. But-but FUCK! H-he’s pretty much teaching!

Ok yeah substituting but still! Same diff! He chuckled to himself as he headed out of the faculty room and made his way down the hall.

Was nice of Tall Might to get him all set up with his folder, and notes. Though the guy REALLY needed help in the organization department.

Luckily he had enough time to rewrite the notes into some form of organized chaos. Didn’t wanna be completely loss on his first day.

Granted might be his only day, but hey! Still!  

“Yama-san!?”

He couldn’t stop his grin when he walked into the class and was greeted by Kirishima’s shout.

Fuck this was going to be awesome!

--

“Shouta lay down,” Nemuri insisted. She rushed to his room after getting his text...and had to wait almost five minutes before he’d let her in. When he finally did she took in his appearance.

He looked tired...but also on edge. She glanced over to the far end of the room where the window was open wide and the comforter was draped over the sill. She wasn’t going to ask.

“I’m fine!”

“You’re shaking, and you texted me.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry--”

“Shouta, you NEVER text me. Also, look at me when you talk.”

“I’m...I’m fine…”

Nemuri gave him a look.

Eventually he found himself lying down on his bed bare of all the sheets too. Nemuri wanted to ask but figured it wasn’t the best of times. She urged Shouta to lay down, having his head pillowed in her lap. When she finally coaxed him into doing so, the R Rated hero ran her fingers through his hair. “What’s bugging you?”

Shouta didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He felt his face flush as when he even thought about--

“Is it Mic?”

“Don’t,” he tried to threaten but it came out...weak. Shakey.

“Did he do something to the kids? Make a threat?” The R Rated hero asked as she looked to him.

“N-no...no he didn’t,” Shouta replied quietly. The...the blonde didn’t do anything. I-it was himself.

--

Mic eyed the electric user as he struggled with trying to write a response to each sentence on the worksheet during the entire class time. The more he looked over that kid’s work the more he started to piece together what his issue REALLY might be. The wave of relief that washed over him was apparent when the bell rang.

“Yo SparkPlug, I need to talk to ya,” Mic called causing the boy to freeze as he was packing up his stuff.

“Want us to wait?” Sero asked.

“N-nah it’s fine, shouldn’t be long, right Mic-san?”

“All depends on how willin’ you are ta talk.”

Kaminari flinched but nodded. And soon it was just the two of them. Mic tore up a sheet of paper into several square and wrote on them. “C’mere.”

Kaminari walked over, he still wasn’t sure whether or not he could really trust this guy. Sure Kirishima totally looked up to him...Uraraka and even Yaoyorozu seem to really like him too. But, he just wasn’t sure…

“Read this,” Mic said as he held up one of the pieces of paper. An English word written on it. Time to test it out.

“Brown,” Kaminari said.

“Uh-huh,” then he held up another. “This one?”

“Um...horse?” What the heck? What was this guy doing?

“This one?”

“D-B...dog.”

“Last one.”

“Crash?”

Mic studied the kid. “...so...do you know you’re dyslexic kid?”

Kaminari froze. Shit! H-how did...how did he figure it out!? “I-I’m not...I mean literature is my best subject! I mean I couldn’t read things like Hemmingway if I was,” He tried to laugh it off.

“Kid...just cause you’re reading is at a high level doesn’t mean you’re immune,” Mic sighed as he laid out the cards. “Ya got one right. Brown.” Then the next. “Hose, bog, and cash.”

“...I…don’t,” Kaminari began. “I use to have some trouble like when I was younger...I thought I outgrew it.”

“You DO know ya just do, outgrow, dyslexia right?”

Kaminari bit hip lip. Awww man this was so lame. It was embarrassing. Sure Being dumb could be thought of a some charming flaw, but have an actual learning disability…

Dude NOBODY saw those as charming or even attractive. Dammit why couldn’t he just be bad with English!?

“Gonna try something real quick,” Mic began as he tore up another few sheets of paper. Kaminari watched him as he wrote some words down, then he grabbed a highlighter. “Alright, we’re gonna do this again.”

Kaminari sighed and nodded.

“This one.”

The elecetric user blinked. The highlighter cut the word in half. “Ah...drown.”

Mic smirked. “This one?”

“Bride.”

Mic nodded. “How about these two?”

“Um...saw and...I think that one is actually spelled wrong,” he pointed to the card. The word was written as ‘peom’ when he was pretty sure it should be ‘poem’.

Green eyes lit up and grinned. “Nice catch! Tell ya what,” Mic started as he tossed the makeshift cards out; and pulled out the worksheet. Taking the same highlighter he marked every sentence the same way he did that last set of cards. “Try this again, I’ll let Tall Might know you’re doin this a make up.”

Kaminari took the sheet. “I-um….thank you.”

“Listen, kid,” Mic started as he gathered his own stuff. “You know pulling shit like, trying to ignore it, is just gonna make things harder for you?”

“I-it’s just...really lame. And...embarrassing.”

“Nah nah you frying your brain is embarrassing,” Mic barked out a laugh at the glare Kaminari gave him. “This...this is just, part of you.”

“I...guess...um…could we, NOT tell anyone about this?”

“Gonna need ta let Tall Might know.” How much did this kid know about having dyslexia?

“I mean...like the other kids.”

Mic sighed, alright good guess he knows a lot with that remark. At least, all the negative aspects of having it at least. “Sure kid, ya want it on the down low, sure I can do that.”

“T-thank you, Mic-san.”

--

Shouta let out a frustrated sound.

“Gonna talk now?” Nemuri asked with a teasing smile.

He huffed...but couldn’t stop himself. “He’s-he’s just-just...he’s...nice. He helps out so much. He helps at the food pantry. At the homeless and animal shelters. He gives piano lessons at the orphanage, h-he risked his life because he couldn’t use his Quirk!”

“Because he knew that he can’t direct it...let alone what that would have meant for all those places if word got out of who he was. And what would happen to U.A. too,” Nemuri added.

“Exactly! H-he...he wanted the school’s safety too,” Shouta agreed as he threw his hands up. “And my kids love him! He knows how to talk to them. They go to him when there’s...personal stuff that I...I just suck with.”

Nemuri nodded. “Even some of Kan’s kids are going to him too.”

Shouta threw an arm over his eyes as he bit his lip. Goddammit. Just...fucking goddammit! “He’s loud...obnoxious...and even though he’s smart he does dumb shit all the time too,” Shouta choked out.

“Oh Shouta,” Nemuri cooed. She can’t recall the last time he actually cried. Not even after the USJ, or the attack on the training camp.

“He..he risked his safety for my kids...he can’t go anywhere now. Villains hate him, heroes do too--but he just! He just keeps going! I...I can’t--”

Maybe, Emi was onto something. “When did you start liking him this much Shouta?” Nemuri asked.

“I...I don’t…”

“Shouta, dear, don’t lie to yourself.” “I-I’m...I’m not!” Shouta denied.

“Uh-huh,” Nemuri sighed.

“I don’t...like him…” He didn’t like him. He definitely didn’t hate him, but he didn’t like him. He lo--oh fuck.

Oh no.

No…

Nonononono!

“Shouta?” Nemuri asked, the Eraser hero falling quiet. She felt him shake a little. He moved his arm from his face, so he could dig his hand in his hair.

“Shit! I-Nemuri-I! I…Oh God!” He couldn’t breathe. The realization struck him so hard he just couldn’t!

“Shouta! Shouta, calm down, breathe!”

‘Breathe, Eraser,’ He could hear Mic’s voice repeat in his head. Tears stung his eyes as he choked on his next words.

“I...think...I think I love him…”

It was quite between them. Shouta’s breathes were still coming out ragged.

“Oh Shouta honey…” Nemuri whispered as the Eraser hero covers his mouth to stifle any sounds coming from him. She frowned; how did Emi see this before any of them?

--

Kaminari sighed as he looked over the worksheet as he sat on the couch in the main area of the common room. He had to admit it WAS easier to read this time.

“What are we working on today?”

Kaminari jumped. “Oh um Hey Aoy--um, Yu-chan,” he corrected himself when he saw how they’re dressed right now; long shirtdress belted at the waist and obnoxiously shiny silver leggings. Must’ve changed right after classes. “Ah the...English stuff from today.”

“Ah Yama-san is letting you redo it?” They asked as the took an open spot by him.

“Y-yeah…” Kaminari hesitated and tried to hide the worksheet. He didn’t want to explia--

“Hey Denki!”

Fuck. “Hey Hanta,” Kaminari sighed.

Sero leaned over the back of the couch, arms draping over Aoyama. “And hey there too Yu-chan. What’s up?”

“Nothing, I...I think I’m heading to my room,” the electric user said as he gathered his things, the worksheet slipping. He choked and tried to make a dive for it, only for Sero to shoot out a length of tape, catching it, and pulling it to him.

“Hey neat, what’s with the highlighter?” Sero asked as he looked over it.

“I think blue would have been easier on the eye,” Aoyama said as the nodded their head agreeing with themself.

“I-it’s nothing! Give that back,” Kaminari snapped.

“Whoa whoa alright, here,” Sero sighed. “I don’t see what has you so worked up though. I mean can you turn that in looking like that? We’re told no additional mark--”

“I’M DYSLEXIC OKAY! J-just leave me alone,” he shouted as he took off.

“Ah Denki! Wait,” Sero chased after as Aoyama got up from the couch.

Kaminari ran all the way to his room and slammed the door, pressing his back up against it.

“Denki, come on!” Sero knocked. “Open up! What’s the big deal?”

“I’m suppose to be cool! Learning disabilities are lame! A-and some think their just...gross and--”

“Who the hell thinks that!?” Sero exclaimed. “Sorry but seriously whoever thinks that is an asshole.”

“It’s true!” Kaminari shouted through his closed door. “Shit I remember in elementary school and even in middle school guys just picking on kids who had them! There was no WAY I was going to come out and say I was.”

“So you thought it would just be easier to have everyone think you are dumb?”

“Shut up Yu-chan it worked!”

Aoyama smirked at the admission, as Sero snickered a bit.

“Denki come on...it’s not that bad.”

“It TOTALLY is Hanta!”

“Sounds like you’re just not wanting to try,” the tape user huffed. “Listen I don’t get the deal with you, but, seriously...Denki, it’s not the end of the world. So you mix up letters and stuff, that’s not going to make people look at you differently.”

“Maybe.”

“Yu-chan shut up,” Sero hissed as the blonde giggled.

“Well, he’s using it as a way to be lazy and not try. Here I thought that he was just, you know...an airhead,” Aoyama shrugged. “I’m sure he’d be doing better if his...ah, ego is it, wasnt’ in the way.”

“It’s not my ego!” Kaminari argued.

“It’s so your ego,” the two said in unison.

“Shut up!”

“What’s going on out here now?”

“Yama-san!” Aoyama smiled.

“Hey Shining Girl, Spiderboy,” Mic waved. “What’s going on?”

“Denki’s just being over dramatic,” Sero sighed.

“SparkPlug? What’s going on?”

“This is your fault! You and the stupid worksheet!”

Mic blinked and sighed. “...how much research have you done on it SparkPlug?”

“I...why should I tell you?!”

The Voice villain sighed as he looked up at the ceiling inwardly praying to whatever was out there to give him strength. “Because those numbers scared you maybe?”

“Numbers?” Sero asked.

“Ya know, fucking  statistics? Hell, they state that 35%  of high school dropouts are dyslexic,” Mic stated. “Fucking 50% of teens in some sorta rehab is dyslexic? Shit,60% reported juvenile delinquents have it!”

“...it’s 70% now,” Kaminari corrected so quietly, that it almost wasn’t heard behind the door.

"Not ta mention dyslexics just feel ashamed because they are fucking stuck with this stigma that they're lazy or just dumb or just don't try hard enough. And they just buy inta it because they’re already labeled.”

“Dude...bro, you really think about yourself?” Sero asked. There was no answer. “Denki! Dude you’re so not like that! I mean...you kinda are but like do ya wanna be like that?”

“No! I-Why would I!?”

“Besides the fact that you ARE acting like it?” Aoyama pointed out.

There was silence on the other side of the door for a few moments. Then it slowly opened, and Kaminari was blushing. “...you don’t...think I’m...dumb or gross...right?”

“Dumb yes, but no for being dyslexic,” Sero smiled softly.

“And quite the opposite of gross, I ALMOST would saw dazzling, but that’s me.”

“So...Sparkplug, you gonna try on that homework now?” Mic asked.

Kaminari nodded some. “Y-yeah...t-thanks, um...Y-Yama-san.”

Mic blinked as he blushed a bit. Wasn’t he calling him Mic-san earlier? What gives?

--

Shouta sighed as he finally pulled himself out of his bed. Nemuri left a few hours ago, and he dozed off. Slowly he climbed out of bed. Maybe he could make himself some tea. Clear his head a bit.

He blushed slightly, the confession he made still fresh in his head.

Quietly he made his way to the kitchen. It was dark and really hard to see…

Ah wait when did he last up his eye drops in?

He fumbled and dug into his hoodie’s pouch to see if they didn’t end up falling out while he was laying down. Fingers brushing the little bottle, he grabbed it and pulled it out.

Fuck, he really couldn’t see like this.

“Eraser?”

Shouta froze. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…

Mic coughed a little. “So um...e-everything alright?”

He didn’t answer. H-he needed to get away. He needed to go. Now!

When Shouta turned around he didn’t expect to bump right into the blonde. He jumped back a bit. Shit when did he get so quiet!?

“Holy fuck,” Mic said softly as he gently cupped Shouta’s face. “Shit, your eyes look really bad...like worse than usual.”

“I-it’s...fine,” the hero managed to get out. ‘His hands...are pretty warm…’

“Gimme those,” Mic huffed as he dropped one hand from Shouta’s face to take the eyedrops from the hero’s limp hold. “Tilt your head back, yeah like that.” The other hand stayed gently guiding the Eraser hero’s head back.

Shouta’s heart was racing. Too close...too close!

Or...was it, not close enough?

He gasped a bit when the first drop took him by surprise. Mic couldn’t suppress the small giggle as he proceeded with the other eye.  “There. Betcha that feels a lot better now.” The blonde set the bottle back into Shouta’s hand as he pulled away.

Shouta blinked a few times, and the blonde came a bit more into focus. He was...smiling. That warm smile.

He ran, pushing the blonde aside. Leaving the other stunned.

Mic watched as the hero...his hero ran out. H-he looked...he looked like he was afraid. Afraid of…

Him.

W-what did he do?

-----------------------------------------

A/N: Allow me to just put my grubby lil dyslexic mitts all over Kaminari cause I can mawahaha. Also Tactile!Sero...I want it as a thing GDit.

But in all seriousness I just always pictured Kaminari like this. He's well-read and fairly articulate for being the "dumb kid".

TEDxTalks has this amazing video that talks about how an adolescent with dyslexia can end up viewing themselves and form how they act socially

[datela-vodenit]

Babysitting (Wildstar fic)

Since people liked the drawing, this is what I came up with in the hours I had free today. Grammar and spelling mistakes might happen, but hopefully you guys enjoy. :)

Taren peeked around the corner of an empty crate. It was a perfect night for a sneak around a dominion camp. The aurin hadn’t really partaken in stealth missions too often, but for the right price, he couldn’t pass up the offer. His bots were in a bush somewhere, waiting for his signal. From the looks of it, the camp mainly consisted of draken warriors. At least he’d have a better chance at getting away quickly, their armor doesn’t exactly look built for speed. Then he noticed their supply tent, a guard at the side of it. Taren ducked back behind the crate again and took out a laser tether along with a small remote. Taking a deep breath, he pressed a button on the remote. In the distance, he heard the explosion of a ton grenades, as well as the chirping of his bots.

Their distraction seemed to have worked, all of the draken had taken up arms and started to make their way towards the ruckus. Taren made a beeline for the supply tent, relieved to see that it was free of guards. He skidded to a halt in front of a mountain of crates. “Woah!” He exclaimed proudly. “I mean, I hit the jackpot, just a shame I can’t take all of ‘em.”

He triggered the tether and tied it around three heavy crates. Clunk! Taren jumped at the sound of a pile of spears falling behind him. Whipping out a pistol, he turned around to face whoever made the noise. To his surprise, it wasn’t who he was expecting. He gazed down at a tinier version of a draken. The child was a dark brown and auburn color with blonde hair and green eyes. They were decorated with necklaces, bones, and red rags. The kid hastily lifted a large spear and pointed it Taren. “Go away!” They cried, baring their rounded fangs.

Taren lowered the pistol and grunted, “I can’t deal with this now…”

He then pointed the pistol behind the tent and began to shoot holes to tear out and escape. It was then that the draken child screeched. Taren flinched and tried shushing at them, but it was already too late - the mother had already showed up. She was a much bulkier version of the child, venom eyes gleaming maliciously at Taren. “Oh, uhm, hello Missus! You’re child is misbehaving a bit…”

He didn’t have time to recover before the draken lunged at him and plunged them both out of the tear. She slashed towards Taren’s chest, but he managed to snatch the clawed hand before she made a mark. She did the same thing with the other hand, but he caught the other as well. Taren whistled shrilly, calling at his Bruiserbot. The robot answered immediately, letting the Artillery bot do his fiery business with the other draken. The bruiser bashed into the draken mother and stunned her. Taking the chance, Taren stood up and bolted for the crates. Luckily, it seemed like the child had run off and the tethered crates were still there. He took up the tether and whistled for his bots to follow him.

The trio met up at a grinder bike and attached the crates behind it. “Good work, guys.” The aurin praised his companions, who bleeped cheerfully.

Taren heard the screams of the draken behind him, who were close behind. Taking a hint, he started up the grinder and began his journey home. The group of draken behind him quickly grew smaller as he rode off into the horizon. He chuckled to himself and relaxed his arms. Now, he set his destination to the nearest exile camp.

-0-

Taren pulled into the entrance of the camp where a woman and a granok were waiting for him. “Sorry I couldn’t get anymore,” He apologized to the granok soldier.

Before he could continue speaking, the granok cut him off and reassured, “Don’t worry, kid! You did what you could, whatever’s in these crates should be enough for the camp.”

The woman approached him and tossed him a bag of coins. “Here’s your payment, cupcake. Thanks for the help.” She smiled, giving him a friendly wink.

“Well, thanks for the job! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be-”

“Wait a sec…” The granok interrupted him once more.

Taren looked towards the soldier and gasped loudly. The granok was holding up the draken child from before, struggling to keep a grasp on the thrashing gremlin. “Ah… we didn’t order a draken with our supplies.”

“B-But, he wasn’t there before! I mean, he probably slipped into the crates while I wasn’t looking!” Taren cried out in confusion. “Sir, I wasn’t meaning to take him too!”

“Alright, alright, kid! You gotta get this kid back to where he belongs before his parents come lookin’ for ‘im!”

“What?! No, no, no, no, no! I just got back from a near death experience!”

“Well, death ain’t done wit yah yet!” The granok growled, holding out the draken to him - who started reaching for him angrily. “The draken know who you are and if they find yah, they might kill yah!” The woman agreed, “It might be the best option you have. Just give them back the kid, but don’t let them see you!”

Taren had lost the fight. His shoulders slumped forward, holding out his arms to take hold of the pissy child. The draken dropped into his arms and the kid started to bite at him. “AGH!” Taren yelped, fixing the kid upside down so his claws or teeth wouldn’t reach him… but his feet did.

“Die! Die!” The child shrieked as he kicked at Taren’s face.

The granok whispered to the woman, “Wonder if that was baby’s first words.”

Taren’s bots hummed humorously, amused by the comment. Taren scoffs and goes for the tether. He manages to wraps it around the draken and sets him atop the grinder, keeping a hand on the kid’s head so he doesn’t escape. Taren sighs and looks towards the exile pair for help, but only received shrugs. Closing his eyes, he tells himself, “Well… it’s the right thing to do…”

When all was decided, Taren sits down behind the draken and revs up the bike. His bots chirp at him curiously, but he holds up a hand, “Ah, actually guys, you should sit this one out. If I’m lucky, this shouldn’t take long… plus there’s no room, sorry.”

The two bots whined sadly, Taren feeling slightly guilty for having to leave his pals. “Don’t worry, everything’ll be fine and I’ll be back before you know it.” He then looked up to the exiles and said, “Can you watch ‘em for me?”

The woman nodded, “Sure thing, they’ll be here when you get back.”

“Tha- KBFF!” The child had headbutted Taren’s chin, stopping him from finishing his sentence.

Taren grumbled, “Alright, I’m off.”

-0-

This was a real drag for Taren. He had spent all morning, trying to stay awake while avoiding headbutts and shoves from the draken child. Luckily, the kid was getting tired and slowly drifting to sleep. Hearing the snores of the child almost made Taren fall asleep too. “Ugh… this won’t end well if I don’t get any sleep.” He mumbled under his breath.

He pulled the grinder over towards a cave he spotted and parked it outside. Taking up the child, he carried him into shelter and set him down. He shivered, he would need to get a fire going before getting rest. Gathering the necessary supplies, he began to make his fire, carefully watching the kid while he was doing so. Taren reminisced as early as he could to his childhood. He certainly wasn’t this annoying as a kid. Did he ever kick his dad in the face? No! Actually, he might’ve tried kicking his dad once or twice… but it wasn’t in the face!

He managed to get the kindling fired up, placing it under a bundle of sticks and letting it do its work. Taren sighed happily and slouched over. “Finally… I can get some sleep now…” He groaned, even though the glow of morning was starting to rise over the horizon.

Taren let himself flop to the floor, making one more final check on the draken. Then, he closed his eyes, letting all the stress wash away from him.

CHOMP! Taren woke up to pointy teeth digging into his scalp. “AUGH!”

The draken child had woken up before him and started chowing down on his head. His bites were weak, but strong enough to remain latched to the aurin’s head. Taren ripped the kid off and gave him a stern glare. The child spat out any hairs he took with him and hissed. “Oh, you think you’re tough stuff, huh?” Taren barked. “You’re lucky I’m a nice guy or else I probably would’ve ditched you when I-”

Taren stopped himself there. The draken seemed to be puzzled at Taren’s sudden change in mood. A few moments after, Taren came to and knitted his brows together, “No biting anymore, you got me?”

“Psh… okay…” The kid growled, pursing his lips.

Taren then sat the draken down, giving himself a moment to breath and glance outside. The sun was just touching the edge of the ground, meaning he had little to no sleep. Seeing this made Taren fall back to the ground, rubbing his eyes with annoyance - this draken brat was going to be the end of him. A faint roar caught his attention and he sat right back up. It was gone for a second, but came back again. He realized that it wasn’t exactly coming from a beast though. The sound was coming from the kid’s stomach. “I’m hungry!” The child yelled, pounding his feet on the ground.

Hearing this also made Taren’s stomach growl. He breathed through his nose and nodded his head, “Me too. Wait here.”

Taren left for the grinder and fished out one of his backpacks. He took it back into the cave and sat in front of the fussy draken. Taren stuck his hand into the bag for a moment, but then had a thought. He raised a brow towards the draken and lifted his hand out, setting it on his knee. “Now, if you want food, you have to tell me your name and say ‘please.’”

“No!”

“Tch, that was very rude. I don’t think I want to give you food now.”

“Raaah!”

“Name and some thanks, please!”

The draken thought it over and mumbled out, “Zaku…”

“And?”

“Food, please.”

Taren smiled brightly and took out some jerky. “Alright, here you-”

He noticed that the draken can’t really take the food with all the tether still around him. Hesitantly, Taren reach towards the tether and switched it off. Despite being surprised by the aurin’s actions, Zaku swiped at the jerky and started gnawing on it. “Can I get a ‘thank you?”’ Taren complained.

“Mpbhbbh.”

“I guess I’ll take that.” Taren sat back, watching the child scarf down his food. “So, Zaku, huh? Cool name! My name’s Taren!”

This is how Davvik got on his good side, right? Give the kid food and they’ll like you? Although, Taren will have to find a way to teach this kid not to chew with his mouth open. Zaku finished off the last stick of his jerky and smudged the crumbs off his face. He crawled towards Taren and held out a clawed hand, “More!”

“Hey! You can’t have more food talking to me like that! I need to eat too as well!”

“MORE!”

“NO!” Taren tried pushing away at Zaku, but the child persisted.

Taren swatted away at the child, making him land on the ground with a loud thud. Zaku slowly sat up, sniffing with a sad frown on his face. Taren’s sneer turned into a look of regret. The draken started whimpering and tearing up. “Oh shoot…” Taren muttered.

He looked down at his bag and saw a single stick of jerky left. Taren approached the kid and kneeled with stick in hand. “Okay, I’m going to give it to you,” he said, keeping it away from Zaku’s grabby palms. “But you should talk to people like that, ever! It’s rude and hurts people. Now, will you behave?”

Zaku lowered his hands and looked down. He finally squeaked out, “Not hungry.”

His clawed hands pressed onto Taren’s hands and pushed them towards the aurin’s chest. Taren wasn’t really expecting that, maybe the kid wasn’t so bad after all. He smiled at the kid and bowed his head, “Thank you, Zaku. That was really good.”

Zaku crossed his arms and legs, turning himself away from Taren. With that, Taren ate the last stick and closed the bag. Taren then stood up and stamped out the fire, turning to Zaku and explaining, “Hey, we’re gonna need to leave soon. When we get to your mommy, I need to you to say anything of what’s happened between you and me. Do you understand?”

The draken tilted his head to the side. “Don’t tell your mommy about me, okay?” Taren repeated slowly.

“Why?”

“W-Why? She might… hurt me.”

“Nu-uh, Mommy nice.” Zaku firmly stated.

Taren snickered nervously, “Ahhhhh, I don’t know about that.”

“Mommy. Nice.”

Taren rolled his eyes, “Whatever you say, kid. Come on, let’s get going.”

Zaku got up in a flash and ran outside, Taren closely behind. So far so good, Taren thought fondly, helping Zaku onto the bike. They resumed their journey, nearing the camp.

-0-

“I gotta pee!”

The grinder screeched as Taren slammed on the brakes. Zaku leapt out of the seat and towards a stray bush. Taren wiped his forehead, knowing that could’ve been a disaster had the child not said anything. While the child was doing his business, Taren was taking the time to think about how hard it must’ve been for Davvik to take care of him - on a spaceship no less. Having to teach him from the ground up. For all the flack that he gives Dav, he really does appreciate what the mordesh has done for him, despite never really being vocal about it. Perhaps he was a bad child. Taren slumped down in his seat, starting to doze off from lack of sleep.

His eyes started to blink to a close until his vision was completely dark.

“AAAAAHHH!”

Zaku’s screech woke him up. Two pumera were haunched, creeping their way towards a fallen draken child. Taren immediately took action and whipped out his big gun. “HEY!” He shouted after the pumera. “Over here, pussy cats!”

The pumera lunged towards him, Taren back up while aiming his gun towards them. Taren was about to pull the trigger when he backed up into a bolder behind him, breaking his focus. To his surprise, the pumera had stopped chasing him and quickly dashed in the opposite direction. Taren’s face fell as he figured out what was going on, “I have a feeling this is going to be… very bad…”

The boulder behind him began to rise from the ground, dirt and rocks crumbling away from the shell of a huge boulderback. Taren stood in shock, clutching his gun. The monstrosity looked a little too big for his liking though. There was only one thing he could do. “Zaku, get to the bike!” He shouted at the child.

The boulderback roared, signaling Zaku to rush towards the grinder. Taren swiftly joined him there, nearly get crushed by the beast’s pillar-like legs. He started revved up the grinder and sped away, the boulderback shrinking from their sight. Zaku giggled at their escape, looking up at Taren to see if he was laughing too - he wasn’t. “Uhm… you good, Zaku?” He asked quietly.

Zaku nodded vigorously and smiled. That was enough to put Taren at ease and he returned to a calmer state. “Alright, let’s finish this journey.”

-0-

They had reached the outskirts of the camp in the evening, the sun preparing to set. Taren got off the bike, lowering Zaku’s tiny legs onto the ground. The draken was already making his way towards the camp hastily, until Taren ran in front of him. “Woah woah woah!” Taren abruptly yelped. “Remember to keep your promise.”

“Huh?” Zaku crooned, tilting his head again.

Taren sighed and knelt in front of the child, “Don’t tell your mother about me, ever! Don’t say my name, don’t tell her I rescued you, just say you got lost or something.”

Zaku twiddled his thumbs together, finally getting what Taren means. “Come back?” He asked shyly, a twinkle of hope in his eyes.

“Me? Ah, I can’t.”

Zaku’s lip quivered softly, “Why?”

“Uh… Cause I don’t think your mommy would like that.” Taren bluntly stated, his voice cracking slightly.

The draken shook his head and wrapped his arms around Taren’s shoulders. “Stay, my friend!” Zaku begged.

This touched the aurin’s heart as he hugged Zaku back, “I know, but I can’t! I just can’t do that.”

His arms clenched tighter around Taren’s neck, not wanting to let go. Taren breathed deeply, rubbing the child’s back. A thought came to mind and he pulled the draken away, “Maybe someday we’ll see each other again. Maybe when you’re older.”

“Then you stay?”

“Uhm… we’ll see.”

Zaku looked down towards the camp, where his kind were bustling about. He saw his mother and started towards her. But he stopped and turned to Taren. Zaku went for Taren’s hand, “Come!”

Taren winced in anxiety. He wanted to grant Zaku at least one last walk before he had to go. Maybe he could make it to a rock before he would let Zaku go free. “Alright, Zaku, I’ll walk with you, but then I have to go. Okay?” He told the youngling.

Zaku nodded and smiled. They made their way silently towards the camp, Taren taking each step cautiously. There was something about hold the hand of the enemy’s child that felt so… awkward. Of course, the draken were an enemy of the exiles, but Taren couldn’t help but feel if everyone acted like Zaku the factions would get along better - minus the clawing and kicking. Maybe he just had to give a few of them some jerky and they’d calm down. They had made it to a decently sized boulder and Taren crouched down behind it. He held Zaku’s tiny palm in his hands and gleamed, “It was nice to meet you, Zaku. I hope we can see each other again.”

“Yeah!” Zaku cheered, giving one last hug to the aurin.

“See you later, bud.”

And with that, Zaku rushed towards his mother. Taren watched as the older draken’s expression lit up at the sight of her young. She ran towards Zaku and lifted him off the ground, spinning him in her arms and squeezing him tightly. Taren smiled at the sight and leaned his head into his hand; he was glad to have done some good.

“HEY!”

Taren nearly jumped out of his skin hearing one of the draken warriors roaring behind him. The draken had snatched his collar and held him up in the air. “I found him!” The soldier growled, throwing him towards Zaku’s mother.

Taren thumped onto the ground, glancing up at a furious looking draken lady. “Taren!” Zaku shouted, swiftly covering his mouth.

His mother raised a brow curiously. “You steal my kid, furball?” She questioned menacingly.

Taren slowly lifted himself onto his knees and shook his head, quietly admitting, “I didn’t take him, I just returned hi-”

“Her.”

Taren did a double take, “Pardon?”

“My daughter, you didn’t steal her?”

It took Taren a moment to answer, but he did so with a lilt of confusion, “I found hi- her in one of your supply boxes. I just thought… it was the right thing to bring her back to you.”

The draken’s eyes squinted. She didn’t really look like she was buying into it and the rest of her posse didn’t really seem to be convinced either. She looked to her child and questioned, “Did he steal you, Zakura?”

Zaku looked to Taren then back at her mother and shook her head, “No. I follow.”

The mother made a noise of disappointment, “You should not go following after bad people on your own.”

“Taren’s not bad!” Zaku yelled. “Taren’s my friend!”

The mother looked back at Taren, who was sweating nervously, wondering how he was going to walk away from this. The draken lady sighed and softened her expression slightly, “If my daughter is telling the truth, you are truly lucky, fuzzball.”

Taren looked up at her hopefully. “Get out of my sight before I change my mind.” She sneered, not even giving Taren a side glance.

He stood up in disbelief, Zaku smiling down at him. Taren bowed his head and simply said, “Thank you, ma’am.”

“What did I say?”

Taren stumbled away, looking back and waving at Zaku. She waved back at him gleefully, standing on her mother’s shoulders. He could hear her faint goodbye as he made his way back to his bike. Smiling to himself he sat down on the bike, taking out his communicator and tapping a series of buttons. It rang until he could hear the voice of Davvik, “Hello?”

“Hey, Dad.”

“What’s going on, Taren?”

“Ah… just wanted to talk for a bit… to say thanks ‘n all… for everything.”

[snkpolls]

SnK Chapter 96 Poll Results

The chapter 96 poll closed with 1,469 responses. Thank you to everyone for participating. Let’s do this!

RATE THE CHAPTER (1,402 Responses)

There was an increase of strong NOPES with 6.5% rating this chapter a 1 verses .07% for chapter 95,  but otherwise like last month, the majority gave the chapter a favorable rating.

With every chapter focusing on the Warriors, they steadily climb the list of some of the greatest characters I've ever had the pleasure of reading about. I love everyone in this manga, but the complexity, moral ambiguity, and tragedy of these three just continues to astound me. No matter how this manga concludes and no matter how imperfect AoT is as a whole, I applaud Isayama for writing some of the best antagonists I've ever seen.

Warriors background and sob story is always good to see. However, I do want a bit more progress in the story. I can wait a bit longer to see Paradis cast.

96 is probably the highlight of Marley focus so far, and is a well deserved title. It honestly never crossed my mind for some reason that we would see the opposite side of the attack on Paradis, and it did surprise me with how much of a rush and danger it was for RBA.

I liked the other chapters better since they weren't all about flashbacks; they had a nice mix between current and previous events

I don't really like the Marley chapters but this chapter has been amazing. Best chapter of this arc so far.

It has a huge emotional content but I feel like it had less substance than previous chapter. The insight on Annie is interesting though.

i think seeing the fall of wall maria from RBA's perspective was a very good (and heartbreaking) decision for yams to make, and a good way to segway into finally revealing what the SC are up to hopefully lol

It seems like Isayama has a thing for writing heartbreaking and sad chapters in August *sides eyeing to chapter 84* and btw, I'm still not over serumbowl. I don't even think I'llbe over that someday ;;-;;

It was really insightful to see more of RAB and actually see R&B relationship with Annie (I honestly thought Annie hated them and vice versa). We didn't see 3 monsters but 3 little kids, traumatized and forced to shed innocent blood

fuck this chapter, i dont even mind the marley chapters but this literally told us nothing interesting aside from royalty not being subjects of ymir

WHICH BEST DESCRIBES YOUR THOUGHTS ON SEEING THE FALL OF WALL MARIA FROM THE WARRIOR PERSPECTIVE (1,425 Responses)

Some mixed reaction here. A slight majority (45%) loved it while 25% didn’t care or didn’t like the timing of it. 31.5% were lukewarm about the retelling of the fall of Wall Maria from the warrior perspective.

I suppose if we were going to answer various loose plot points, we might as well get them all out in a single chapter.

I think Isayama's starting to push it with the flashbacks. I'd be okay with like. Half the next chapter or less being flashbacks to the trainee days but I want the rest to be interesting present-day Marley content

This would all have been so much more compelling if it had been incorporated into the main narrative timeline. Yams seriously needs a better editor.

WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE PART OF THE CHAPTER? (1,343 Responses)

“So much Annie” and seeing both trios in the shelter together were the top moments. Bert making eye contact with EMA and loudly contradicting Annie about her ability to charm men followed at #3 and 4. But with a lot of options came a lot of opinions.

"I'm here to save humanity."  Like. Holy shit.

"Reiner is dead. If you want Marcel, I'll become Marcel" That was epic

One True God, Reigner, preaching His Holy Word to other Warriors. For He is the true savior of humanity

Reiner finally winning against Annie in a foot race

series was really just a bunch of scared kids making it up as they go

The little RBA group hug awww

The survivor from Wall Maria telling RBA his story. When I realized that I had heard it word for word out of Bertolt's mouth, it was very chilling. And Annie, seeing her break down at Reiner was one of the most heart-wrenching moments in the series

The two times we saw EMA

When it was revealed the Tybur family knew something about the Reiss family, that they have made a "vow renouncing war." OK, something is up with the Tybur Family, and I want to know more!

 Seeing RBA talk about their mission when the Coordinate was maybe 20 feet away from them tops was a weird mix of frustrating and hilarious.

Ma boi Bert is smooth af.

Damn, Dina really hustled to be the first Titan through the gate.

  SADDEST MOMENT FROM THE CHAPTER? (1,339 Responses)

Rather than pick a single moment, nearly 38% of us selected the whole chapter as the saddest moment. As usual, any glimpse of the 104th makes people cheer. The moment of eye contact between Bert and EMA was #2.

Annie...everything about Annie in general.

Knowing that once Reiner got back to the Marley after they failed, he did listen to Annie's words when she beat him up because he did take all the blame himself

reiner saying he wants to be a "soldier" to "save the humanity"_ the poor young man really thought he was saving the "humanity" from the monsters/devils

The panels of Bastion looking over the wall were so sad imo. Knowing RBA's story makes this iconic moment so much more tragic and powerful, but in a different way than before.

The parallel made between EMA and BRA. It's so sad to see how similar there six kids are, and how differently their lives ended up.

The saddest moment was Reiner saying he will 'become' Marcel. That was Isayama tearing my heart out of my rib cage and beating it repeatedly.

Watching three broken children commit an atrocity that they couldn't fully understand the consequences of

when it was yet another flashback

  MOST INTERESTING NEW DISCOVERY FROM THE CHAPTER? (1,326 Responses)

The majority selected how Reiner became Marcel as the most interesting discovery. Bloodline talk and and the origin of Bert’s cover story were close second and third.

All of the above

Everything.

how reigner got fukin ripped, brah

reiner is hot asf

Reiner was always ripped

the explanation for why reigner went from the weakling to a buff dude (LUMBERJACKING)

Knowing for certain that RBA and EMA were (at least for a while) in the same refugee camp. My babies <3

I dont care for the plot at this point honestly im just in it for annie i discovered i love her somehow more than i originally thought

The Tybur clan detaining the information about the vow of the King. That implies they were in contact with Kruger at some point.

DO YOU THINK RBA KILLED THE MAN FROM THE REMOTE VILLAGE? (1,347 Responses)

My poll co-creator was the one who suggested this question and once asked I couldn’t unsee it. Nearly half of respondents don’t think RBA killed that man, but clearly there’s room for doubt.

I'm torn on whether RBA killed the man from the village. The idea occurred to me when reading the chapter, and I could equally see them doing it but also not doing it. isayama why!

  HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE BEATDOWN THAT ANNIE BROUGHT ON REINER? (1,360 Responses)

Honestly I wasn’t expecting this to be a landslide but here it is - 82% felt that Annie was ok in her beatdown of Reiner.

YEAH ANNIE, KICK HIS ASS!!!

I want more of cruel Annie

My feelings for Reiner is kinda messed up.. Annie did beat up Reuner pretty good

i was all for reiner rescuing annie and apologizing to her but seeing what she did to him this chapter. never mind. she can go f*** herself.

  RATE EACH WARRIOR IN TERMS OF HOW THIS CHAPTER AFFECTED YOUR PERCEPTIONS OF THEM

As far as opinion changes go, 807 people view Annie more favorably after this chapter, 788 do so for Reiner, and 633 for Bert. On the other end of the spectrum, 140 view Annie less favorably. That number is 113 for Reiner, and 57 for Bert

I used to dislike Annie, but this chapter helped humanize her in my eyes.

I kind of despise reiner after this chapter, the only good thing about it was annie

Bless Annie, she not only saw through all the brain-washing that the Marley government had imposed on them all, but was oblivious to her own charms! But damn, the scene where Eren, Mikasa and Armin are reflected in the Colossal Titan's eyes? That had me in tears!

  WHICH OF THE THREE ORIGINAL WARRIORS IS YOUR FAVORITE? (1,369 Responses)

When I asked this question, I mentioned Tumblr’s outpouring of love for Annie as my reason. Now I have data to back that up. While Reiner was the combined winner, favorite character does vary by platform. On Reddit, Reiner was the clear favorite with 55% of the vote. Tumblr selected Annie with 46%. Bert is viewed far more kindly of Tumblr than Reddit. The breakdown is below:

REDDIT’S FAVORITE WARRIOR

Reiner: 55%

Annie: 31%

Bert: 15%

TUMBLR‘S FAVORITE WARRIOR

Annie: 46%

Reiner: 32%

Bert: 23%.

Reiner best character. Reiner for Straw Hat. Reiner for king of Westeros. Reiner for everything. I uh... I like Reiner.

Bertolt is such a non-entity in the flashbacks.

I can't believe I didn't appreciate Annie as much as I do now before!!! It was great to see her again and I really look forward to seeing her more hopefully

  WHICH OF THE THREE ORIGINAL WARRIORS IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE? (1,322 Responses)

No surprise here. Mah boy Bert continues to get the least love.

  WHAT DO YOU THINK WILL HAPPEN IN CHAPTER 97? (1,353 Responses)

88% of people think the perspective will stay with the Warriors and a slight majority believe the flashback will continue. The 12% who think we’ll have a perspective switch are probably being optimistic.

  IF CHAPTER 97 IS SET IN PRESENT DAY MARLEY, WHAT DO YOU MOST WANT TO SEE (1,362 Responses)

The Tyber family festival and the identity of Amputee-kun are what we want next. Many people think they will happen at the same time.

The Tybur Family Festival will reveal Amputee-Kun

All of this. A dialogue-heavy chapter that takes place during the tyber family festival. Right before the end, Pieck looks at Amputee-kun in the distance and says "Yo Zeke, Reiner, ain't that Eren Yeager ?" and Zeke goes "That's exactly right".

Amputee guy goes home. It is a dark house. In the corner is armin praying to an annie shrine. Mikasa is next to him on a chair drinking tea as if nothing weird at all is happening.

I'd like to see sort of visual representation of the Warhammer titan

Levi

Main cast

Reiner visiting Bertolt's family/parents

  THE FOUNDING TITAN APPEARS TO YOU IN A DREAM AND GRANTS YOU 3 WISHES FOR THE MANGA. YOUR CHOICES? (1,401 Responses)

I hope ya’ll know I can see who voted for more than three. Shame on you! Action for Annie and Mikasa top the wish list followed by “no more time skips”. There were plenty of write in votes asking for romance and canon ships and the resurrections of Ymir, Bert and Erwin. There were some rather creative options as well.

*virtually votes for Annie getting out the damn crystal three times* WE NEED SOME ANSWERS FROM HER DAMMIT!

Armin. Man-bun. Now.

Every character getting a satisfying and conclusive ending.

Explain PATHS without magic.

Honestly I wish Zackley's "art" was never a thing

Chapter once a week

Marcel's death. Again. Again

Titan shifters not having to die after 13 years, except for gaylord, he can die for all I care.

HANJI ZOE GET A BACKSTORY

one billion dollars and a mansion to live in. PLEASE

Let's talk about East Sea Clan now

Bring Bertoto Big-Boi Bertollini back to life

better pacing

Connie with luscious curls.

MORE ZEKE!!

  HOW BADLY DO YOU WANT TO RETURN TO THE ORIGINAL CAST ON PARADIS? (1,420 Responses)

The number of people willing to sell their souls to see the original cast is up 10% over last month.

I understand people are frustrated because they miss the main cast, but Warriors are my favorite characters and I've wanted to see this since forever. We'll get back to the main cast eventually, just bear with it like we went along with chapters without the Warriors.

This is honestly all I've wanted to see from the beginning of the series. No matter what happens after, I'm really glad we got to see the other side of that fateful day. Also, I love how clear the parallels between the two trios were, because that's something I've found incredibly powerful in this series, but it's never really been this clear before. I find it tragically beautiful just how similar EMA and RAB are, and yet one trio has hope of a happy ending while the other's been doomed from the start.

Just when i was finally gettibg into Marley we switch to a flashback! Lol that's how it goes. It was a good chapter, finally covering something we've been going over on a fandom level since 2013. I'm glad we finally saw it. Bring back Annie 2k17!

On one hand, the Marley files is necessary, building up to the end of the series. But holy cow I miss our main crew on Paradis! Granted, the Paradis chapters have been well done, especially on expanding the Warrior's side as fellow humans trapped in some shitty circumstances.

I just want a glimpse of how the Walldians look like. Just one panel and I can rest in peace.

I've been selling my souls for the past six months to see main casts... I'm withered now.

  WHICH CHARACTERS DO YOU GENERALLY ENJOY THE MOST (1,422 Responses)

Vets are up and the104th are down, but I suspect poll exposure is the reason for the change.

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES (1,298 Responses)

Tumblr, sit down, we need to talk. I know you love your art and ships. And I do too! But can you spend three minutes taking the poll? The good folks at Reddit once again outnumber you 2-1.

Reddit: 869 (66.9%)

Tumblr: 419 (32.3%))

Discord: 84 (6.5%)

Twitter: 7 (0.5%)

  IS THERE ANYTHING FROM THE NEW GUIDEBOOK YOU FOUND PARTICULARLY INTERESTING? (1,143 Responses)

yes, seeing Armin’s parents was awesome, but my poll co-creator’s obsession with Reiner Braun is #3 and that’s all I need! That, and eruri is canon.... again  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Seeing Armin’s parents: 49.2%

Isayama’s obsession with Reiner Braun: 38.5%

Poll creators obsession with Reiner Braun: 35.1%

Reiner’s unexplained weight loss: 23.8%

4 pages of insight into Levi's thoughts: 23.4%

Eruri being canon.... again: 22.2%

Annie’s hairstyle being designed after Avril Lavigne’s: 21.3%

The Colossal Titan was designed before Bertolt: 21.3%

Reiner being described as “the perfect man”: 20.6%

Annie’s name being a joke on the word “ani,” meaning “bro”: 18.3%

Marcel and Porco aren’t twins: 16.2%

The height/weight info on the warriors and cadets: 15.7%

Reiner’s genetic predisposition to be a muscular and sexy bara: 14.4%

Birthdays for characters we didn’t know before (Finally! Moblit!): 13.6%

Reiner having David Beckham’s eyes: 11.8%

Reiner having Matt Damon’s looks from Saving Private Ryan: 10.8%

It's ok, I too am obsessed with Reiner Braun (I would marry him)

Reiner is B U L K

isayama is evil

I fucking love Reiner Braun. That's all.

reiner needs to be protected

Reiner continues to be best boy

  FINAL THOUGHTS?

This is a subset of the write in the comments we received. Thank you again for participating! See you next month!

EXTRA DANCC

This chapter was incredible and i cant wait until 97 comes out.

This chapter made me think a lot of Draco Malfoy. I mean the trio and him both were brainwashed and raised to think lies. They were just children caught up in situations they coulndt understand well. It made me feel very sad.

I wonder how the Tybur family knows about the First King's Will. Either he made the vow before traveling with the Eldians to Paradise, or the Tybur family infiltrated the Walls somehow.

Tyber family is being set up to be the "real" masterminds behind Marley's government.

Fuck you Isayama!! I hate you and I'll always will... except if you give Annie a happy ending I could rethink about it

It was really good but I would have liked just a little bit of present-day Marley as well

Again, the Tybur Family knows something about the Reiss family even though the rest of the world doesn't know what's going on within the Walled Society. Something is up with the Tybur Family, I tell you!!!

We need more Annie, Bertolt and Reiner. Also want so badly to see the main Paradis cast but enjoying so much this Marley arc so I'm very conflicted with myself on that and which side I'm now on (Warriors/Paradis)

It was lit

It was interesting to see these events unfold through the long-awaited perspective of Reiner, Bertholt and Annie. I liked how they showed those three kids having more humanity. Seeing Bertholt hesitate and Annie cry gave another dimension to their character.

I've said it before but the new shots of Bertholdt looming over the wall were so fucking incredible. When it gets animated, I hope this moment be silent, no bgm, nothing. It would make it more memorable.

The fact that this chapter is called "Door of Hope" may suggest that RBA's time having their worldview expanded will eventually lead to hope. Reiner may turn on Marley in the end, and Annie's character definitely isn't loyal to Marley. I don't think either would work for Paradis if they had a choice, but since Paradis *is* directly opposing Marley, I suspect we'll have a "enemy of my enemy is my friend" situation. For Annie at least. If Reiner switches, I think it'll be in some great final act. :'(

Im a wreck now!

As expected

Dank

I love how there are absolutely no black and white in this series

Reignar's motivation for joining the military was done really well, and I love how complicated of a situation he's been in...

I've been a fan of getting the Marley perspective and was really happy to see Annie again, but this chapter felt like it was more of everything we already knew. It didn't add emotional stakes, it didn't add to the plot, it contributed to the abysmal pacing. I realize that we can't fully judge the manga until it's complete but the fact is, this is a monthly manga, and Isayama should take that into consideration when pacing the story. Focusing entirely on a flashback this chapter felt like a really poor narrative decision, especially since while it gave us feelings it didn't add any the last chapter didn't also give us. I know Isayama is a master of the long game so maybe I'm wrong and this was an important chapter, but it certainly didn't feel like it. It feels like he's trying too hard to make us feel for the warriors, but the previous chapters already accomplished that.

I expect SC to come back in Chapter 99. With the festival upcoming, I expect two volumes of Warriors before returning to out niggas on Paradis. Also, it's Reigner, not Reiner.

This arc need to step up its pace. It's good that we had all this new info but the story is so slow!

I just want to see grown up Mikasa

Disappointing overall. Little useful new information. The part about stealing the backstory was interesting but not significant. No plot advancements, no new mysteries, no present day action, and we all guessed accurately how the wall fell from RBA's perspective. IMO a pointless chapter, and the Marley arc has dragged on for almost a year now (no problem with Marley focus, it's just been very slow). Could/should have been done differently (include Walldians learning about Marley along w/us readers, include Warriors other than Reiner)

Need less marley and warrior focus jesus fuck

Ballsy move by Isayama to continue with the Marley/Reiner stuff. It's not terrible but considering monthly release schedule it's getting tiresome and I think he's starting to lose some of the fanbase - and he'll continue to lose more with each Marley/Reiner chapter

I'm so done with Marley, wake me up when we get back to the main cast

Please just move the story forward, we don't need previous details spelled out, the audience is smart enough on their own, this all just feels like a gigantic stall.

Feels like Isayama is stalling for the big reveal of Paradis plot

RBA perspective is already overkilled its inviting irritation rather than sympathy

I feel like isayama doesn't care about the manga anymore and is just trying to wrap it up as quick as possible

ANNIE PLEASE COME BACK REEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Getting weary of the flashback. I don't mind seeing the Marley side of things, but pick up the pace.

very powerful chapter. That said, I hope that for the sake of the story's pacing in general, this is the last flashback we get for a while.

AoT is the best story I've ever read. But if there are more useless Marley chapters I might even stop reading monthly. That's how exasperated I am. Fuck i really do like RBA and flashback is nice but PLEASE LET ME SEE THE WALLDIANS COME ONNNNNNNNN!!!! Its been half a year already !!! I didnt see the main characters since i caught up with the manga wtf

Cool chapter in itself, not ok with the premise

I'm pretty sure Dina said fuck Bertolt because she was going after that slut sleeping with her husband

You know, after hatin' on the Marley POV for the past few chapter I actually am starting to feel that I'm succumbing to them, slowly but surely starting to enjoy them

The RBA hug was the sweetest thing.

would be interesting to see of armin -remembers- any of this

I finally fully enjoyed reading a chapter of this Marley arc, even if it's just a flashback... but i reeeeeeeeeeaaaaaalllly wish to come back to the original cast POV. I miss them, i wanna see them, i would sell my soul to see them. Also i think Isayama made a wrong choice doing this Marley arc now, after the timeskip, if he had done this before the fandom probably wouldn't react as the way they did (missing EMA and Veterans). I mean, after the longest time skip ever, after the most loved/hated arc with huge changes to some characters, Isayama just change the view to another characters not showing us anything of what happened. Also with this guidebook we could see that things have changed with the original cast, mainly the relationships that before were strong but at this moment we don't know fully (Like i seriously saw the EMA split apart reading this guidebook, a thing that i didn't wanted to happe, but at the same time i wanted because is interesting af. Or Levi miserable after Erwin death... I feel like Isayama will continue with this flashbacks to explain something like why Annie didn't killed Armin, and their thoughts on the Walldian, but i also feel like chapter 100 will split the fandom apart (again) (i mean we probably will get the main cast in this one, i hope)

I MISS MIKASA

Great develope of the warriors trio

EEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

nice info & perspective in this chapter. but felt dragged..could've been expressed in less pages tbh.

The pacing of this whole arc has been poor. These backstories would have better served the story if they had peppered the narrative a little bit at a time over the course of the whole series, not as some last second infodump.

Only thing worse than present day Marley is flashback Marley

I DON'T WANT ANOTHER FLASHBACK JUST GET ME ON PARADIS AGAIN FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

You have a beautiful smile, but not as beautiful as Dina's.

I need Reiner/Happiness to be canon like RIGHT NOW

wjat the fuck is dina d o i n g how did she just KNOW who carla was aksdadkjs

I wish bertholdt was not dead And that he has more development.

I never thought we'd actually get to see this part from the warrior's perspective, but I've always hoped we'd at least see it in a spin off or something, so I am pumped we actually got to see it in detail in canon

Thank god for Isayama, he's a blessed man to give us so many chapters with Warrior focus.

Man I just wish I didn't have to wait so long for each chapter, but I understand it's necessary for quality.

I wasn't really enjoying the flashbacks but I loved this one

I wish we would have had some bits from the breaching of the wall way earlier. I also wish the plot would advance a bit faster. I feel too many panels were spent on the flashback. For me the chapter was over too soon, but felt like I'd learned nothing new of importance :(

I understand the flashbacks are necessary, but I hope the story will eventually wrap those up to keep the story moving forward. Everything has been going by so slowly lately, but even so, I love this series to much to just leave, especially since we're already nearing the end. Keep it up, Isayama!

Because I see all the recent Annie content as the most obvious foreshadowing of her return to the plot, that begs a new question. In Stohess, she tried to run away, not take Eren, and just get back to her father. She crystallized with that stuff in mind, she seemed ready to abandon her mission, so when she inevitably wakes up will she still have that same mindset? I think this whole thing could set up an interesting change for her character. Whether she joins the Walldians or not, she finally gets a chance to break away from the flow and suffer or thrive based on the outcome of (probably) the only time she's allowed to choose something in her life.

Damn this is depressing as hell

Dina will never not freak me out. Also hooOOOOOO REINER'S MESSED UP HOOOOOOOO

I really do hope Isayama goes back to the paradis crew in a flashback to 4 years ago. A couple months from where chapter 90 left off & the entire volume covers 1 year of the Paradis crew in between the 4 year time skip

I feel like Isayama doesnt care much for Mikasa anymore. She has become a flat character and deserves more focus.

I didn't need an entire chapter dedicated to RBA's persepctive of the fall of wall maria to feel any more sympathy than I already do towards them.

I'm really tired of the Marley focus in the story.

Loved seeing how Annie really felt about the mission outside of the hometown and ideologies. Also heart breaking to see Reiner trying so hard to make the mission work only to end up losing the only other two who understood him best in the end.

I was hoping we would get the Tyber family's festival, and there Amputee-kun would reveal his identity. However, after seeing this chapter, I realized how important and interesting the Fall of Wall Maria is in the warriors' point of view. I'm glad we got this chapter.

1. Reiner is much more than a warrior or a replacement for Marcel. 2. Dina keeps being awesome even after her death. 3. Bertholdt already being in love with Annie is awesome. 4. We've been able to see Jean!!! 5. I don't want to say goodbye to Colt...

Isayama, give Erwin back 😌!

[hannahstocks]

Chapter 1

We watched as our ferry pulled away, clamping it's jaw shut, glimmers of cars peering back at us and passengers out on the top deck, merrily on their way.

We estimated two minutes.

If only I hadn't stopped to go to the toilet or his shoe lace hadn't got caught in his chain half way up a hill, we'd be shoulder to shoulder with those teeth grinning holiday makers.  If only.

We let it sink in over a couple handfuls of scroggin and a few good old head scratches whilst looking hopefully at the map. Plan B.

Our day had started at dawn, waking up in a car park not far from the ferry port, packing, re-packing, wondering if I really needed that moisturiser or if there would be any need for shampoo; listening to wise words 'You'll be cursing the extra weight cycling up hills'.

It was highly unlikely I'd use either anyway.  The trip had been a long time coming, lots of talk & no action until we finally decided on a date and destination.  To be self sufficient and peddle powered for 8 days, to pull all our necessary possessions behind us on trailers with our boards strapped to the top and a bucket load of hope and crossing of the fingers that we'd actually be able to use them, not just for protecting our gear from the rain.

'Coffee?!' We parked our bikes & trailers outside a cafe.  Cobbled streets, busy with a flow of Tuesdays foot traffic meandering past, up and back.  We soon realised that the longer we stood in one place, the more people wanted to talk.  Upon seeing our surfboards strapped to the trailers, we were inundated with surf spots to check with an underlying wink, wink, nudge, nudge, tap of the nose. Anyone would have thought they were selling us drugs, 'don't tell anyone I told you'.

We were on bikes pulling trailers traveling at a less than average speed, the chance of us even getting there was unlikely.

The way the ferry system worked meant that we would find ourselves outside that cafe, peddling our bikes down the same cobbled streets time and time again, it was the epicentre of all the islands, the link in the chain.

Sat encased in a sun trap, we watched the water move below us, the wake of the boat under our feet.

An older couple sat close, with their own agenda, their own plans, just smiles made between us.

We were on our way and it felt exciting, destiny had thrown us a curve ball and we didn't know what to expect, we were at the mercy of the ferry system & the weather.

It was Scotland in August, anything could happen.

Riding out & off the ferry, we soaked up the late afternoon sun & light winds.  The clouds drifted slowly. We were always the last off, wedged at the back behind cars & motorbikes, one way on, the same way off. Patience, a virtue.

We'd keep an eye on each others trailers, items of clothing coming lose, bottles wriggling out of tightly packed gaps, a trail of possessions in our wake if we weren't careful.  

'You've lost your jacket!' It always seemed to be when we'd climbed a hill that we'd realise.

Surrounded by farm land & cattle, houses dotted sporadically, I had the familiar feeling of having been there before but having never.  Smoke blew up into the sky from a bonfire in the distance & the little wind there was sent it out to sea. It was warm, shorts & t-shirt weather & it was quiet, oh so quiet, only the hum of wind turbines & the birds as our soundtrack.

Morale was high with a slightly smug undertone.

We kept wondering where everyone was?  

It didn't take long to find the most northern point of the island & our home for the night.

The third largest of the Orkney Islands at only 19.5 square miles.

We cycled through a farm and were greeted by little waves, just about rideable, perfectly clean.

'I reckon it will be bigger round that corner'.  The words echoing in our heads as we found a late burst of energy and cycled fast to our camp spot, arriving to waves which were definitely not rideable. Classic mistake.  We were going nowhere quickly so settled for a sweeping white sand beach & a golden sunset. The light faded & the sky turned pink. The dew settled quick. White sand stretched out in front of us as he pitched the tent and I made dinner on a picnic bench, it would be my signature dish for the trip, super noodles, broccoli & carrots.  Two folks, one bowl, 3,2,1...go.

The weather came in over night and the rain was starting to seep in through the ground sheet and every time anything brushed up against the tent walls it got a little damper.  The tent was small at the best of times, cosy when it was dry, but when it was wet, it felt like the walls were closing in.  The morning had contrasted quite heavily to the previous day, they'd be no naked bodysurfing or sunny contemplation this morning, just packing down the tent in full waterproofs & cycling up a f&%king steep hill to start the day, racing to the ferry port to escape the weather inside the terminal & talking about the second world war with a half german, half canadian lady, who'd fallen off her bike the day before and missed the ferry.  It was an insightful morning and all of this before 8am.

We were stood once again outside the cafe on the same cobbled street, wet clothes & hungry.

He named himself Mr Mac and looked wistfully at out bike set up. A short, round man with thick white hair & a walking stick.  He spoke with his eyes & at one point I thought he might be welling up. Mr Mac had embarked on an adventure after recovering from cancer which would take him around the world on two wheels in 5 months, 10 years previous.  We wondered if that was even possible & when he spoke about having lunch with Bin Ladan & being wanted by the CIA, I wondered how genuine he was. To look at him and hear his tales, you'd think it wasn't, but when he went on to tell us about his book that had been published and was for sale in the bookshop up the road, I understood even more how looks can be deceiving.

We rolled off the ferry and into thick mist and drizzle, the cows in the fields running along side us on the other side of the fence, intrigue in each step. It was bleak. Everything was wet & the sea was a mess of choppy wind swell.  We could have camped, rolled out our wet tent on the sodden grass, cooked noodles in the porch by head torch but we didn't and when the rain came down in sheets later that evening whilst we were eating dinner in the pub, our hostel beds couldn't have sounded better.

'Don't stand too close to the edge!' His lose footing and easy manor was a massive contrast to my belly slide peer over the edge.  We were higher than the birds, gannets flying below us, darting into the sea, fluffy babies nesting just feet away from us.  We'd left the trailers and gone off road, cycling up to the lighthouse, wishing for mountain bikes with every lose rock we came across.  

The birds circled below us, the cliff face decorated in a shade of white bird faeces with the wind strong enough to knock you off your feet.  Sheltering behind the walled garden of the lighthouse, the sun warm on our faces.

We rolled down the jetty and waited for the captain to start boarding us. We'd left our boards & wetsuits with the fine folk at the hostel, some of the friendliest people we'd met, maybe ever, with the thickest of accents that had me squinting in the hopes that that might help me understand them better. The captain looked indifferent to our trailers as we unhooked them from our bikes & lifted them over the barrier and onto the bow of the boat.  The short crossing allowed for just enough time to close my heavy eyes whilst he stood outside and watched the island come into view. The worst of the weather seemed to be behind us for now, gaps appearing in the clouds, the sun shining through.  A family sat opposite, parents with two kids, one of them with a wooden carved sword in his backpack, I didn't want to mess with him. The mother entertained the little girl when I think all she wanted to do was rest her heavy eyes.  The warmth of the boat & the light rocking had eased a relaxed state. Bikes off first, then trailers. 'Thanks for your help'. I couldn't help but love the unashamedly lack of emotion in the captains face & in his response. 'Yep'.

[imagination-going-100]

Imagine // A Sword for a Knight

Prompt: Could you please write an imagine where instead of dating Finn, she was dating the Reader (female) and came down to Earth for her, and they have a really fluffy reunion. Extra points if Reader scares a lot of the 100 and becomes a total goober around Raven.

Pairing: Raven Reyes x Reader, a little Rival!Murphy

Warnings: Mentions of torture, swearing

1. This is not fluffy enough, I acknowledge that. 2. Reader does not melt enough when Raven is around. 3. I should probably write a one shot about their reunion with just fluff, because there is not enough fluff.

Also, write your eye color with no caps, eg. green or blue, as opposed to Green or Blue.

Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

Your eye color: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit3").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\be\/c\b|\(e\/c\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt3").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

In the end, it had only taken Clarke three days to become the “official” leader instead of Bellamy.

Not that Clarke was the reason. Well, she was a strong leader; she had a way of making people want to follow her. But Bellamy was the more tempting choice. He offered freedom, adventure, excitement, and he had his own personal militia to back it up.

But he didn’t have Y/N.

Murphy shuddered at the thought of her. No, he wasn’t afraid. He was just…

Alright, maybe he was a little intimidated. But just a little.

Then again, who weren’t? There was just something about her that screamed danger. She rarely smiled, and whenever she directed her gaze to you, it felt as if she could read your mind. Or kill you should she want to. Or perhaps both.

When Y/N declared her support of Clarke, Bellamy suddenly had fewer supporters. Murphy chuckled while stroking his knife. Yeah, he really wondered why Bellamy suddenly lost so much support.

“What are you doing?” a stone-cold voice said behind him. Murphy whipped around, almost stumbling in the process.

Y/N stood there with her arms cross, her cold E/C eyes piercing him.

“Just... on the lookout.”

“Then perhaps you should do less daydreaming, and more looking, John.” Murphy cringed. No one called him John. If they did, his knife shoved in their face usually convinced them to shut the hell up.

“Did I make myself clear?” Y/N continued, and he suddenly felt very small. There was just something about her that made him very willing to comply.

“Yes,” he muttered.

He watched her hips swing as she walked away. He chuckled to himself as he watched the other kids move out of the way, all of them skittish; as if just existing would be enough for Y/N to scold them.

Murphy thought that if he had to choose how he would go out, he would maybe consider shoving a knife in Y/N’s face. No one would be able to say that is was a cowardly way to go.

You wanted to scream. Mostly because you were surrounded by idiots. A little because said idiots were absolutely useless at doing anything properly no matter how hard you held their hand through it all, but mostly because they were idiots.

They’re only kids, a more rational part of you reasoned.

So, what if they were kids? Raven was only eighteen, and she was a Zero-G already. Plus, correlation and causation were not the same things; you weren’t automatically an idiot just because you were under twenty.

You sighed and shook your head in an attempt to ignore the clenching in your chest. You missed Raven.

It was fun on the ground – well, as fun as anyone could have while babysitting a bunch of tweens – but life wasn’t the same without Raven around. Raven was just special in that regard. She was the only one you had met who could throw you off and turn you into a stuttering, blushing mess with just a wink and some flirting.

She could turn you into a hot mess in other ways too. Especially when she did that thing with her to-

No, Y/N, do not go there, you thought to yourself, and scowled at the kids who have stopped to look at you. Both quickly looked down and stumbled along.

You sighed again. Your mind attempted to rid itself of all thoughts of your girlfriend. It would be a very long day if you couldn’t.

You hadn’t seen the escape pod on the way down. Clarke, however, had. And Bellamy was apparently very excited to meet whoever had decided to drop by, because he went out by first light.

Without telling anyone else, of course. It was barefaced luck that you spotted him.

You did not follow suit. Because with both Bellamy and Clarke out of camp, someone had to be there to rein the kids in.

You happened to be perfect for the role. Clarke seemed to think so too, as she gave you a discreet nod before setting off with Finn.

Simply put, you were not prepared for their return. Some idiot had spilled some precious water and you were in the middle of scolding them once they returned. Whatever faint arguing you had heard among them was cut off by a single voice.

“Y/N?” You whipped your head around, brows furrowed.

“What?!” you spat. When you saw who was standing there, every single well-formulated thought left your brain. “Raven?”

“Y/N!” she yelled again and started running towards you. You would have run to meet her, but you couldn’t move at all. The mixture of shock and excitement has left you stunned, frozen to the ground.

Raven’s touch thawed you. You wrapped your arms around her as she pulled you into a hug and buried your nose into her shoulder. She was laughing, and you were smiling, and neither of you could say anything other than each other’s names.

You finally pulled away. “Raven, I… You… Here… Wow…” Some of the spectators started laughing, but you couldn’t care less. In fact, it didn’t bother you at all that all those people saw you grinning like an idiot.

You should probably be used to it; Raven had a way of cutting through all your walls, all your defenses.

“Of course I would come for you,” Raven murmured.

You pulled her into a long, sweet kiss, all smiles and laughs. Raven only pulled away when Clarke cleared her throat.

“Radio.”

“Right,” Raven said and glared at Bellamy. He stared down on the ground.

“Everyone who can afford to lead post, come down to the river. We have a radio to find.” Clarke didn’t bother to wait for any responses, instead turning around and walking away at a fast pace.

Raven grabbed your hand, pulling you with her. You raised an eyebrow. She grinned: “I’ll explain on the way down there.”

As embarrassing as it was, you lost some power after that. Not that you weren’t stern and respected and all that, but whenever someone had done something wrong, they always for some strange reason had business in Raven’s tent once you came to scold them.

And Raven the unfortunate ability to turn you into a blushing mess. It was worst in the beginning, as you weren’t used to the thought of Raven being there at the time. Over time it did become less effective, but Raven’s tent was still used as a shelter for your wrath occasionally.

You didn’t mind. Raven’s presence made you stronger, more steadfast in your goal to protect camp. She gave you drive. And you were happy that she had come down for you. Especially those nights around the campfire, filled with kisses and laughter and dirty promises whispered into one another’s ear.

Murphy watched Y/N move across camp from within the drop ship, eyes narrowed and wounds aching.

He was sure his eyes were tricking him in the beginning, because from what he’d gathered, Y/N had to be going soft.

But no, the way Raven’s hand brushed against hers, and how Y/N spaced out right after, her E/C eyes unfocused and staring at nothing made it quite clear that Y/N did indeed have a weakness.

Or a strength. Murphy had seen how incredibly protective Y/N was of her girlfriend. It gave him an idea, one evening.

He’d contemplated shoving a knife in Y/N’s face; a little ‘thank you’ for the role she had played in her hanging, or lack thereof. If anyone could have stopped the crowd, it would have been her. But she didn’t.

However, as he’d thought before, that would more likely result in his untimely death than hers. She was a warrior, a knight, not afraid of a good fight, and Raven was her sword.

That was the thing about swords though: Most of them were two-sided. And that way one could hurt the wielder of the sword by pushing it against them. Murphy smirked. Yes, he could absolutely use Y/N’s little sword against her.

And even if he lost?

Well, it was hardly a bad way to go, was it?

[laurel--writes-blog]

Hiking the Appalachian Trail: Even Scaredy-Cats Can Do It!

August 15, 2017

By the time I reached the Clingman’s Dome parking lot at Great Smoky Mountain National Park in Tennessee, it was about two o’clock in the afternoon. The place was positively buzzing, overrun with people. It shouldn’t have come a surprise, though, since I’d already read in the Gatlinburg 2017 Vacation Guide that the Smokies see over 10 million visitors each year, more than any other national park.  

But, the popularity of the park wasn’t an entirely bad thing for this trip, as it turned out. As I hiked up the Clingman’s Dome Bypass Trail, I met several different groups, families mostly, who were incredibly helpful toward me and encouraged me to not give up in the rough spots where that option was most tempting. At times, especially later on, it would have been easy to quit.

There was one couple from Knoxville who parked next to me in the lot at the base of Clingman’s Dome. They saw that I was alone and, without my prompting, took nearly an hour or so to explain to me the different gear they use as avid hikers along with the particular situations in which certain items might become more or less useful. One particular example they offered me was the use of crampons to be worn over boots and create more traction in icy conditions. I didn’t have any with me, but fortunately, they were not needed on this trip.

Another family – three generations altogether – sort of adopted me for the next couple of hours, simply because we were all from Maryland. The mom, the dad, the grandparents, the kids – they all regarded me thoughtfully, and we joked our way up the trail like old friends.

Especially after working at one of my more recent minimum-wage positions and simply dealing with unpleasant individuals in general, it is genuinely nice to know that there are people who are not only capable of treating others well, but also choose to do so…and for seemingly no reason at all.

After climbing the steep, half-mile incline to the tower itself, I made my way to the top. Once there, it became clear why the highest point in Tennessee is so crowded. I heard myself gasp as I looked out past the edge of the circular platform. With the sun shining down across it all and hardly a cloud in the sky, the landscape before me quite literally took my breath away. 

Rather than the thunderstorms and thick fog I’d been promised by weather forecasts, I saw mountains, blue-ish green and jutting up into an even-bluer sky, higher and more rugged than I could have imagined.

To take this journey alone was one thing, but to stand where I stood and look out on what I saw was the definition of what it means to feel small, but also as if you are a part of something greater than yourself. It was almost as if, while gazing down on them, I could actually feel the 200-million-or-so years the mountains had been standing there.

After lingering in the tower for some time, I was burning daylight and still had to hike from the trailhead to my campsite nearly three miles away at Double Spring Gap. Given the terrain, I wasn’t entirely sure how long that would take me. Around four o’clock, I took my first steps onto the Appalachian Trail (AT).

It took me just over two hours to reach campsite #107, partly because my pack was weighed down with three liters of water and partly because I repeatedly stopped to take pictures, unable to tear myself away from each and every enrapturing view. 

Some might think it cliche somehow, hiking with phone in-hand, but the desire to share the beauty I witnessed is anything but.

There were cliff-like lookout points which gave way to the mountains beyond and valleys below. 

There were green and gnarled and fallen trees, which remained with upturned roots jutting out from the earth like moss-covered ruins.

Once, I set my foot down next to the footprint of a Black Bear. 

Later, I had to move through a section of the trail which was swarmed by honey bees. In some portions, the trail narrows down to a path no wider than a foot, and stepping off to the left or to the right means a nasty spill down the mountain.  In these areas, it is sometimes impossible to not cross through an active swarm.  

Despite my attempts to disturb the bees as little as possible, I still managed to receive a painful sting to my right upper-arm for coming too close.  Luckily, I’m not allergic to bees, and even this pain did not take away my appreciation for the place I found myself in.

The emotions this place inspired in me reminded me strikingly of my home – or rather, the place I feel most at home – in the C&O Canal of Maryland and Great Falls of Virginia.

In my awe at what I saw along the way, I forgot how tired my body was from hauling my overstuffed pack. Even after routinely consuming water and bananas for energy, I felt myself growing weaker about a mile or two in. My legs became somewhat shaky, so I had to make an even more conscious effort to be careful.

“Easy does it,” I told myself, “…slow and steady.”

As I approached Double Spring Gap, I heard masculine voices ahead and felt an unexpected knot form in my stomach. 

My head flooded, echoing with the voices of every person along the way who'd felt the need to ask, "But, aren't you scared of...(insert here)?" In my uneasiness, I reached to my waist and grabbed my SABRE pepper spray. An SOS fold-out blade and an emergency whistle rested in the same pocket, attached by a simple keychain. 

My body was frozen and it was only the pain of the growing knot that made me realize this. Without really meaning to, I leaned behind a tree, peeking out as the voices grew closer. I hated myself in that moment, hated the fear that gripped me and constricted my breathing.

Realizing (first) that I was hiding and (second) that I wasn't it doing it very well, I started feeling pretty ridiculous. Just as I stepped back out and onto the path, a figure came into my view. It was a tall young man who looked to be in his twenties, about the same age as me. His reddish-brown hair hung down into his face, and as he moved it out of his eyes, he saw me. We both remained still for a moment, but then he flashed a bright smile and introduced himself. Aaron, I think it was.

The smile caught me off guard. I remember moving my thumb away from the trigger and lowering my hand. But then, I saw the points of his canines and the phrase “wolf in sheep’s clothing” popped into my head. So, I smiled back, but kept my pepper spray in my hand. He noticed this and backed off, apologizing for having scared me. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a canister identical to mine.

“My mom made me carry one of those, too.”

This made me laugh and relax a little. 

We began joking back and forth about how the scariest thing on the trail seemed strangely to be other people, rather than Black Bears.

“Yeah, we actually had to evacuate an area on our way up here. There was too much bear activity, so our site was closed down and we had to hike through the night to get to this one.”

At that point, I’d forgotten about the other voices, but the word “we” caught my attention and again I felt that distracting unease. I didn’t mean to ask so bluntly, but the words “Who’s ‘we’?” popped out of my mouth in response. Aaron simply smiled, wiped away a bead of sweat from his face, and gestured back the way he came.

“You’ll see ‘em.”

That didn’t make me feel any better, but I laughed nervously and moved to the side so he could pass, well out of reach. 

After he moved by, I waited until I could no longer hear his footfalls on the path before I stepped back out and continued on. Now, I could hear the other voices more clearly. Again, I hated the knot in my stomach. I also hated the fact that, when the campsite came into view, there were seven or eight other men sitting in and around the shelter.

All at once, they stopped what they were doing and glanced up at me. I froze in place and looked back at them with what I’m sure was a comedic, yet clearly horrified expression. Eventually an older, white-haired gentleman with tortoise shell glasses stood up and broke the silence. He greeted me with a smile, then pointed further down the path.

“There’s the bear cables. Over there’s the water. And, down that way’s the privy.”

The other men still watched us quietly, but slowly reanimated as I thanked him and continued on down the path. Admittedly, the time I then spent securing my bear bag was invested mostly in trying to determine if I should (a) hike back out of the trail and sleep in my car, (b) pitch my tent somewhere in the woods, or © stick it out in the shelter.

The shelter, of course, was my only realistic option. At 6:30 PM, the sky was already beginning to dim slightly, dropping the temperature with it. I was worn out and in no condition to continue hiking, and certainly not in the dark. Not only that, but I soon realized that I had misinterpreted the park’s rules concerning backcountry camping. Tenting, I was soon informed, is not allowed in the wilderness because it disturbs the natural habitat. This makes perfect sense but, in my preparation, I had made an oversight and now found myself sleeping in an open-air, three-walled shelter with a large group of men whose intentions were foreign to me.

It seems to me now that my uneasiness must have been clear. When I returned to the shelter after hanging my belongings up on the cable system, the group of six young men were removing all of their belongings from the shelter and relocating to an unestablished site further into the woods. That, or it could have been because the group had experienced some friction with the other three hikers, as I later found out.

This trio, I came to know as the Stuarts -- a self-identified “family of Boy Scouts.” The older man who had greeted me previously called himself “Tortoise,” then introduced his oldest son, “Land Nav,” and his youngest son, “Trick Knee.” Each nickname was based on some significant characteristic the men possessed. Like so many other hikers I had met so far, they spent the next couple of hours allowing me to pick their brains over gear, hiking spots, water safety, and AT etiquette.

Around nine o’clock, we all turned in for the night. My head was pounding with a migraine and when the sun set fully, I realized how woefully unprepared I was for the following temperature drop. What had been a sunny day of 85F became a frigid, damp night of 44F. In trying to preserve space for my water, I’d opted for a thick wool blanket over my sleeping bag, but it was nowhere near enough. As a result, I slept for only a scattered thirty minutes or so throughout the night, just shivering and waiting and praying for the sun to rise and warmth to return. A team of field mice scampered unceremoniously overhead, preventing any chance of sleep as they scouted from rafter to rafter, searching for a way to infiltrate what little supplies were not already hung on the bear cables.

To further prevent any chance I might’ve had at sleep or warmth, a thick fog rolled in near six o’clock in the morning, bringing with it only more of the damp cold.

At first, I was going to wait until late morning to see if the temperature might warm up a bit, but near eight o’clock, the rain started. At first, it fell as a sprinkle, but soon the light pellets became thick, round globs. 

Around this same time, the Stuart contingent woke and packed up. Less than an hour later, they began moving toward our shared exit point at Clingman’s Dome, but first made sure to fill my water bladder from their own with what they had collected and filtered from the nearby spring.

Out of pride, not wanting them to hear me huff and puff my way back up the mountain, I decided to wait half an hour before heading out myself. By this time, the group of young men had trickled back into the campsite and begun preparing their breakfast.

As I looked out from my place huddled in the corner, the mist was so thick I could hardly see the edges of the shelter where they sat, eating. The sun had now risen, but brought with it only a slight relief, more light than heat. Even with three layers of clothing, including long johns and a beanie, I trudged to the latrine with the wool blanket wrapped tightly around my shoulders.

Now that the Stuarts were gone, the heavy footfalls headed toward me in the secluded, open-air outhouse again gave me pause. I cleared my throat loudly to make it known that the privy was occupied and the steps trailed to a stop, then trodded off in another direction.

When I was leaving the latrine and headed back toward the shelter, I felt silly for being afraid of someone who was simply trying to go to the bathroom…that is, until I heard voices echoing from the site. I knew they were there, of course, but this time I could make out what they were saying. They were talking about me.

“Do you know where she went?”

“I think down that way, but her stuff is here.”

“She’s by herself, right?”

When I say that my heart stopped, I could almost swear it really happened. My mouth suddenly went dry and there was a sour, metallic taste…like blood. The knot twisted fiercely inside me and, for a moment, I felt sick. A million non-thoughts raced through my head and I felt my fingers tremble with adrenaline as they reached to my pocket, searching numbly for the keychain connecting my spray, whistle, and knife. With a lurch in my stomach, I realized it was back at the campsite. I’d have to walk past them to get it. This all occurred in a matter of seconds.

Just as quickly, my fears were abated.

“Man, can you believe that? I’d never do this alone…would you?”

His question was greeted with a staggered but enthusiastic chorus of “Hell, no!” I forced myself to take a deep breath, and as I exhaled the breath turned into a slight chuckle, at all of our expense.

As I stepped out of the path and back into the campsite, one of the men looked up at me and smiled warmly. Even though each person I’d encountered had been nice to me so far, this look was even more disarming than the last. In the same moment, an unexpected streak of sunlight cut through the fog and the trees and painted itself across his face, causing his dark eyes to glow a deep, honey color. I smiled back at him but kept my distance as I walked over to my sleeping bag. Grabbing my keychain, I began heading down the path toward the bear cables.

“There’s more than just people in the wilderness,” I reminded myself mockingly.

But then, I heard someone rise from the table and the crunching of footsteps on the stone-covered path. He had followed me, and I felt more aware of his presence behind me than of my own. I made a point not to look back over my shoulder at him, but my heart beat faster with each step, blood pounding painfully loud in my ears. When I reached my bag, I spun quickly around, careful not to leave my back unprotected. I made sure he saw my keychain clearly within reach. I hated the fact that it felt necessary to do so.

“Do you need a hand with that?”

Looking up at him from where I had knelt on the ground while working to untangle my bags from the hook, I saw that the ray of sunlight highlighting his eyes had followed him somehow and I caught myself struck once more by the kindness they seemed to exude. It’s hard to describe, but there was something about the youthfulness of his face in the changing light...even under  a few days’ worth of five o’clock shadow. His face communicated a feeling of innocent curiosity - a hint of playfulness. 

He seemed, in many ways, more like a boy than a man, and this made him feel like less of a threat.

“Yes, please,” I said, “if you don’t mind.”

He took hold of the cable and hoisted my bags into the air so I could root through them without having to rest on the damp ground. At one point, my cable became tangled with another and we were both too short to reach. He had to call over one of his taller friends to help us out, and we spent several minutes laughing at ourselves. 

When he laughed, he looked like the sort of person who’d be nice to come home to, the sort of person who would be missed if they didn’t come home.

“I’m Laurel, by the way,” I said, extending my hand, “Or, Lo’. Either one is fine.”

“Laurel?,” he asked, reaching out his hand to take mine, “That’s a pretty name. I’m Bennett.”

[abakersquest]

CHAPTER TEN – A THORN IN THE MARSH

Wistea and Elder Ygg quickly explained the danger of any of Kota’s soldiers taking the Silent Marsh. As Planaetians approach old age, the blessing of the First Tree fades and they become as they were always meant to be, a simple plant like any other. Some will seek a place to settle in the world, other choose the Silent Marsh. In essence, the marshlands have become a graveyard for the oldest Planaetians to walk Mondia. Because they had garnered great stores of magical energy in their lives, the remnants of it transformed the nature of the marshlands and enchanted the entire space to a still unknown degree. Yet, while the matter of the Marsh was certainly pressing, Elder Ygg insisted they leave after resting and tending to their wounds, as it would do no good to race there now in their current conditions.

With Mycete left in Ygg’s care, the band was shown a secret exit to the temple that left them just under the roots of the First Tree. As they walked into the cool night air someone spotted them and gave a shout, and before the four could react they found themselves surrounded by celebration and thanks, as well as a surprise appearance by Rozzi’s bandits. Amid many tearful reunions and some impulsive emotional action, the gathering at the First Tree became something a few steps shy of a festival. Unable to resist, Wally set about cooking whatever he could to help feed all the attendees, as well as taking some time to teach some very interested Planaetians the long lost recipe for Nandi Bread. The Bandit Circus performed for the gathered soldiers and citizens as they ate and drank to what history would no doubt come to call ‘The First Triumph of Sir Wally, the second Flarebearer.’ Despite any of Wally’s protest against him getting all the credit.

The party was fervent but short lived, exhaustion quickly swamped over the masses and makeshift beds abounded. Wally had just finished covering Hector in a blanket when he spotted Rozzi, making her way up to the canopy of the now former war camp, clearly aiming to treat it as a hammock. After a quick mental tug of war, Wally headed over. He quietly tip-toed over many sleeping Planaetians and carefully climbed up a corner post, propping himself up by his arms on the top of it, somehow managing to not alert Rozzi to his presence as she had begun to settle in.

“You know, I haven’t slept in a hammock since I was a boy,” He said, much louder than was called for in this particular situation.

Rozzi scrambled for balance as she had tried to turn toward Wally’s voice, failed miserably, and became a bundled mess of limbs instead. She looked up at his upside-down visage from her tumbled position and saw a content little smirk on his face. “Alright… Guess I had that comin’ eh?”

“No, but I honestly couldn’t resist.” Wally climbed up the rest of the way and found a suitable amount of slack in the canopy to settle into. “That is to say, I know why you do it.”

Rozzi was flustered for a moment, even more so when Wally laid down a few feet away, but she managed to shake it off and go about settling in for the night herself. “Do what exactly?”

“The flirting… Actually what I should’ve said was, ‘I know why you keep doing it.’ At first you just liked watching me squirm. Now, it’s more you just want to keep me level headed”

She froze on the spot, surprised by Wally’s insight. Eventually she plopped onto her back and sighed. “That obvious?”

“No, I’m just a lot more insightful than you gave me credit for.”

“… Sorry.”

“Wasn’t asking for an apology, just… If it’s so you can keep me grounded in the face of all this, you don’t have to try that hard. But…” Wally tried to swallow down his nervousness. “B-but if it’s actually more than that… Maybe… I don’t mind as much as you think I would…”

Rozzi quickly propped herself up to look at Wally, only to see him calmly staring up at the massive branches above their heads swaying in the breeze, moonlight flickering through small short lived gaps. She smiled before she lied back down to take in the sight herself and considered what he just said in silence.

The brief respite passed as the first rays of dawn slid over the horizon. After sad but quick goodbyes shared between Rozzi and the Bandit Circus, Wistea and her family, the four gathered whatever supplies Arborledan could spare and set off to the west of the city toward the Silent Marsh. The path there being free of small towns and roads capable of baring any carriages, they were limited to whatever they could carry with them on foot.

At the top of the first hill away from it, Wistea turned back toward Arborledan. It was an act that Wally quickly recognized, having done it himself what felt like ages ago now. “You’re going to think about it a lot,” he began. “In fact when you aren’t thinking about anything else it’ll always be the first thing that comes up.”

She didn’t look at him as she replied, “How do you deal with it?”

“I don’t think of it as missing home. More like, carrying a piece of it with me wherever I go.”

Wally couldn’t explain how, but somehow he could see the metaphorical weight of leaving home become lighter on Wistea. The two of them set down the hill to catch up with Rozzi and Hector.

“You know…” Wistea began. “You are quite wise for someone your age.”

Wally was about to say something sarcastic before he thought better of it. After all, Wistea probably didn’t know anything about Animani outside of books that made it into the library. “And how old do you think I am exactly?”

“Careful,” Hector spoke jovially. “I guessed wrong and Wally put me through a wall for it!”

“That’s not what happened and you know it!” Wally snapped.

“Certainly never called you ‘lad’ again, did I?” He said with a laugh.

“Hang on a bit…” Rozzi said, rubbing her chin and thinking. “That’s right, Planaetians get pretty old, so we probably all look like kids to Wisty, don’t we?”

Her expression and tone soured at the impolite curtailing of her name. “Actually I am one of the generation of Planae born after the war. I had assumed Wally was closer to my age.”

Wally looked up at her. “If you don’t mind us asking, how old are you exactly?”

“As of the last winter season, I have lived for fifteen years.”

Wistea watched as all three of her new companions slowed down to a stop to look up at her with surprised and concerned expressions.

“Um…” Wally was the first to say anything for a while. “Don’t suppose you measure years differently here than you do in Animana…”

“We live in the same temperate zone with four seasons; each passing of the four is a year, no? Wait… You wouldn’t say that unless my age was far higher or lower than you expected, but given context the number is most likely much lower so… You must be…”

“Older by a full decade, yes.” Wally watched as the fact registered in her mind and she recoiled. He knew that face, the ‘desperately apologizing faster than the words could come out’ expression he’d seen on his little sister’s face hundreds of times. ‘This isn’t what she needs right now,’ he thought. ‘If I don’t say something her confidence will be shot for who knows how long…’ The speed of thought is a remarkable thing, as before she even began to say a single stammered word Wally interrupted. “Mind you, Chief Librarian at fifteen! Damn impressive! When I was fifteen I was a glorified dishwasher.”

Wally did his best to casually nod at Hector and Rozzi to get them to follow his plan wordlessly.

“Right!” Hector caught on. “I was as far from knighthood as a rock is from flying. Back then, I spent more time mopping the barracks than sword training!”

Rozzi wore a smart smile, tucking her hands behind her head and turning to walk away from the group toward their goal. “Well when I was fifteen, I was already in charge of the whole Circus. Keepin’ ‘em fed, clothed, sheltered, and makin’ sure we did 3 shows a week. So you better keep up the good work Wisty, ‘cause I don’t wanna have to pick up your slack y’hear?”

A swell of pride overrode any embarrassment as she stomped her foot down. “Slack?! I shall leave you no such opportunity! And my name is ‘Wistea’, not ‘Wisty’! It is enough of an informality that you leave off my full title; I will not tolerate you turning my name into some dull noise!”

Wally smiled, relieved that Wistea’s confidence survived another hurdle. He thought on what it would’ve felt like to face what she has and leave home at her age, now that he knew it. He silently commended her on her courage and continued on with everyone.

---

As the land beneath their feet grew plainer and a thin fog began to develop, Wistea told the group they were approaching the outer limits of the Silent Marsh. With a serious whisper she explained that the Marsh was called that specifically because the act of speaking was forbidden. The bygone residents somehow enforced this rule, despite the absence of their living will. It is said that for some who sought solace in the marshlands, it never came, their longing souls wandering forever in search of it. But thus far these are only stories and rumors.

Wistea then explained that she would take the lead from this point forward. The marshlands were difficult to navigate for anyone but the most skilled forest mages; it would be far too easy to become lost there for anyone else. As they continued on behind her, the water level rose and soaked their feet; she soon turned to them all and placed a finger to her lips, letting them know that they’d finally crossed into the Silent Marsh.

Wally looked around and realized he could no longer see the sky or the horizon; the fog had grown thick and blocked sight of anything further than five feet in any direction. Just barely he could make out the silhouettes of trees, each rooted far from the other. Suddenly a tug on his sleeve forced him to snap back into a defensive stance, only to see Rozzi standing there, rolling her eyes.

She pointed down to her waist where a rope had been tied, the length of which lead to similar lassos around the waist of Hector and Wistea. Wally nodded as he took his end of the rope from her and tied it around his waist.

Wally’s experience with cemeteries was limited; his mother took him to see where his grandparents were buried only once when he was very young. He wondered if it was natural for the air of sacred places to muffle sound, as he remembered the graveyard visit of his youth being just as quiet. Even though the lot of them were walking ankle deep in marshland water, he couldn’t make out anything that even vaguely sounded like the sloshing he would expect. Without a thought his hand found its way to his chest to make sure his heart was still beating.

Without the sun, time vanished into memory and the passage of seconds became a meaningless endeavor. No one behind the stalwart Planaetian knew how long they walked before finally coming to a stop. Wistea stood rigid at the foot of a tall tree, its branches were barren and bark black as charcoal, it was clear to them all it was dead. Wally’s ears picked up on a very small sound above him, something he knew he couldn’t ignore. He looked up and saw Wistea, the hand she held over her mouth and the tears running down her face.

“He’s dead,” she spoke in a barely audible whisper.

The Animani looked at each other, each wondering if they should say anything before Wally finally whispered, “Who?”

“My grandfather… But… He wasn’t that old… Just barely 500. This is not right, something is very wrong with the Marsh.”

Wistea wiped the tears away and continued on, leading them deeper into the marsh. As they went, the smell of decay grew with each step and every tree they could see through the fog was dead. The grass became sparse and the ground water little more than shallow mud. Wistea knew that the life of the marsh was being drawn out, the remaining vitality of the old trees and their magic, yanked away for what could only be a sinister purpose. Sorrow quickly turned to anger at the very idea of such a sacred place being defiled by villainous will, and so her pace quickened, almost dragging her new friends off their feet. “I can feel it,” She said, shattering the eerie silence. “I can feel the life of the marshlands being pulled away, all toward one spot.”

The ever present fog vanished from one step to the next, and before them was a barren clearing where the earth had grown dry and the air stagnant. At its center a shimmering dome of light cut into the landscape, its presence apparently pushing back the fog. As they approached it, smoky figures charged from the fog wall only to be pushed back by a gale of wind that did not exist. The ethereal limbs of these wisp disintegrated as they struggled toward the dome before evaporating entirely. These were clearly the restless spirits of the Silent Marsh, attempting to defend it from a corrupting force.

With righteous anger dripping from every syllable, Wistea threw her hands out and began a spell. “Eight forms to one shape, from heart to hand and destroy! EMERALD COFFIN!” The ground around the dome erupted and enormous thick vines emerged from deep below. The vines reached toward the dome, wrapping around its entirety.

The dome shuddered against the ground and the vines creaked and groaned as they squeezed their target. Wistea’s clenched fist trembled more and more as the vines worked to collapse the offending mystical construct.

The others untied themselves from the rope and readied their weapons, braced for whatever could lie inside as the magic structure cracked and finally shattered under the pressure. Its pieces vanished into nothingness as they fell and revealed what they hid. Inside a small patch of still green marshland was quickly reduced to dried-out remnants around the feet of the offender who stood calmly at the center of it all.

As the mystic dust settled and vanished, the lone figure stepped forward toward the group pocketing something that shimmered brightly. Wally was quick to look them over as they approached. It was just taller than Wistea, putting it at over 8 feet in height. Its skin, what little of it could be seen, reminded him of a flower stalk in both color and texture, the rest was covered by what looked like a combination of a ball gown and a suit of armor. The armored components were however made from earthenware and not steel which surprised him. Atop its head was a sort of crown comprised of large bright crimson petals, and its eyes matched the shade. It wore a serene expression, clearly undaunted by the approach of a threat.

“Well now,” it spoke with a deep and feminine voice. “The Rogue told me the Flarebearer was a little fellow, but you’re much smaller than I expected.”

Wally tightened his grip and readied his defenses. “I’m surprised he told you anything after I lit him on fire and knocked him into the ocean, guess he wasn’t made to be embarrassed.”

“Ooh, that’s interesting. The last Flarebearer didn’t talk all that much… Speaking of,” She turned to look at Hector. “How is daddy’s precious little one? Grew up with a mean streak without your father to teach you better?”

Hector said and expressed nothing, his face as rigid as stone.

“Ah,” The would-be enemy clasped her hands. “There we are, that’s the nostalgic hero face I was hoping to see.”

Wally called to her attention again. “Excuse me, just thought I’d ask. What does Kota want?”

Kota’s General eyed Wally the way one eyes a potential meal, but said nothing.

“I mean, from here, nothing she’s done makes any sense. What’s all the wanton destruction and death get her in the end?  I can understand if she’s some manner of sadist… But if there’s more to it than that, I’d really like to know.”

Wally felt the ground beneath his feet tremble hard, thinking quickly he leapt backward, narrowly avoiding a massive stone spike.

“Do not presume my lady’s thinking, dust mote.” Her playful tone had been utterly erased. “The Rogue didn’t take you seriously and you caught him off guard, I shall not do the same.” With a sweep of her arms the clearing was surrounded by tall stone walls that bore deadly spikes, each sprung from nothing but flat terrain. “I AM THE THORNED PRINCESS! IN THE NAME OF MY MISTRESS, I SHALL HANG YOUR SHREDDED BODIES FOR ALL TO SEE!”

Wally steadied his nerves and breathing before he looked over to Hector. “Was really hoping we could talk our way out of this.”

“Good effort, she’s just not the talking-it-out sort.” Hector lowered both his stance and voice.  “Follow my lead, Rozzi you come in behind us while we distract her, Wistea your magic works best at range so if we make you an opening, take it, understood?”

Wistea glared at the Thorned Princess, barely hearing a word Hector said.

“Wistea.” Wally said firmly.

She turned to face him, her fierce expression locked in.

“She’ll pay for what she’s done, but only if we do this together, alright?”

She turned back toward her enemy and tried to stop herself from shaking in anger. “Alright,” she finally said through gritted teeth.

Wally and Hector nodded at each other before they charged toward the Thorned Princess, swords held at the ready. She laughed haughtily as she summoned one massive stone spike after another in their paths, forcing them to zigzag around her strikes. Frustrated, Wally levied the Flare against one of the offending stones and cut clean through it before kicking the separated peak directly at the Princess. It was reduced to nothing mere inches from where she stood.

“Right… Magic…” Wally grumbled before setting off on another dash toward her.

Hector’s reflexes proved better against the deadly stone spikes, allowing him to close the distance between himself and his quarry. The Thorned Princess turned her attention toward him, creating enough of a gap for Wally to rush in as well; both reared their swords back to strike her down when a massive round wall of stone emerged around her. Ugly sounding clangs rung out at their swords bounced off the makeshift barrier.

During their charge however, inspiration struck Rozzi. Experimentally she leapt as hard as she could toward the nearest spike, feeling a jet of air carry her the whole distance. As she landed she smiled broadly and said, “Well that’s handy…” With the aid of her newfound magic she sprang from one summoned spike to the other, moving faster than she ever had on her own, and just as Hector and Wally’s swords struck wall she landed on the lip of the instant barricade and stared down at the Princess. “‘Ello love, special delivery!” Rozzi jumped backward into the air and slashed her sickle toward the Thorned Princess, sending a ball of sheering air at her.

Kota’s General screamed in anger as she brought her arms up to block the magical gust, the seemingly clay armor of her battle dress stretching into a shield shape.

From her vantage point, Wistea saw the opportunity she was waiting for, her hands outstretched as she readied the extent of her abilities. “Eight forms to three shapes, from heart to hand again and again, strike, defend, and destroy! QUICK LOBAT!” A stocky tree instantly grew beneath the Princess’ feet, launching her high into the air and out of her encampment. “GREATER SAMARA!” Large leafy propellers then emerged from her back, dragging her quickly through the air and toward the ground. “RAVENOUS NEPENT!” an enormous pitcher plant rose from the dry earth just before she landed, its gaping maw catching the readied meal easily.

Everyone watched as the Thorned Princess plopped into the enormous yellow plant that lowered a thick leaf over its mouth to keep hold of its prey. They could see her thrash and beat against the walls of the pitcher plant before finally growing still. The sound of rumbling then filled the air as the encircling spiked walls began to slowly move inward. The pitcher plant was torn open by long ceramic blades, its acidic contents spilling onto the ground as the villainous warrior stepped out, seemingly unharmed. With a quick flourish she shook off the remaining acid and bowed to her assembled challengers, revealing the earthenware bracers on her wrist as the source of her freshly revealed weapons. “Thank you all ever so much, I’d hoped you were truly worthy of my time and you did not disappoint.” As she raised her head she darted toward Hector who barely managed to block both her blades, but the force of the blow was enough to send him skidding backward on his feet.

As he still reeled from the first blow, Hector couldn’t raise his guard when she sprang into the air, looking to pierce him from above. Rozzi thrust her hand forward to create a solid gust of air barely pushing the fiend off her course, missing the landing by inches.

Hector took the chance to swipe at her, forcing the Princess backward. With that back step, four large and spiny cucumbers jutted from the ground. “STRIKE ELATERI!” Wistea shouted, commanding the new plants she’d summoned. A spray of seeds fired off from each cucumber. The Thorned Princess spun on the spot, her blades deflecting every seed fired at her. Every one of the assembled fighters winced at the sound of the wicked and joyous laughter that followed.

The advance of the imposing wall sped up considerably, time was running short and they were running out of room to maneuver. The Princess, who began to move more like a dancer, put some distance between herself and her opponents before she drove her blades into the ground, then pulled upward forcing the earth to roll forward like a powerful wave onto a shore. The closest, Rozzi and Hector, scrambled away from the upturned terrain, while Wally dashed to scoop up Wistea and bound off the side of the wave to where the surge died down, leaving them all with their backs to one of the many deadly walls.

“Runnin’ out of room here!” Rozzi said as she eyed the walls. “Anybody got any bright ideas?!”

Wally quickly looked around to see if anything at all would inspire some solution before finally he screwed his eyes shut and forced himself to think. There, in the dark and desperate seconds of furtive thought, a spark of an idea was brought to life. “Rozzi! Hit one of those walls with your sickle, doesn’t matter how hard I just need to hear the sound!”

Confused but willing, Rozzi carefully approached the wall behind her and struck it. It was instantly clear to her the walls were far too dense for anyone but Wally to make any kind of dent. As she turned back toward Wally she saw a smile form on his face, a look of confidence that was wholly encouraging. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Hector! Grab Wistea and run as fast as you possibly can, Rozzi you keep close, I don’t expect the gap to last all that long!”

His compatriots all asked, “What gap?”

Wally turned toward the approaching wall directly behind him, pulled back his free hand and struck it with all his might, blasting a sizable hole in the magically constructed stone. “GO!”

With no other instruction needed Hector quickly hefted Wistea and leapt through the hole, followed quickly by Rozzi. The three watched as the hole rapidly sealed behind them leaving Wally within the closing trap.

“Ah, it seems the moronic nobility of the Flarebearer is universal,” mocked the Thorned Princess. “You know it will only take me a few minutes longer to kill them after you’re dead.”

“Well Ma’am” Wally said in his best shop voice. “I don’t exactly plan on dying ‘til I finish this quick little lesson.”

The walls began to move even faster, forcing Wally to approach the Princess. “Better talk fast, little one…”

“Intend to ma’am. See, the last Flarebearer? He was a soldier through and through, trained all his life as a fighter. But me, I’m a baker by trade. Made my way working in all kinds of kitchens… So suffice it to say, stone walls? Dried out plants all around our feet?” Wally spun the Stellar Flare in his hands, sparks of flame dancing off the blade and his arms. “I know a good fire pit when I see one.” He held the end of the blade facing the ground as he spoke his spell. “EIGHT GODS INTO ONE MOMENT, FROM MY SOUL INTO THE WORLD! DRAGON’S CALDERA!” Wally drove the end of his sword into the ground as hard as he could, deep red flames racing across the surface, coating it entirely.

The Thorned Princess tried to speak, only to have her voice entirely drowned out as the flames erupted upward, the walls funneling them into the shape of a pillar that lit the dried out marshlands like the morning sun. The roar of the blistering flames could be called nothing but deafening.

Slowly the fire died down and the walls cracked and crumbled into nothingness. Behind them, a perfect circle of scorched earth where Wally knelt exhausted from the effort. Across from him, ironically frozen in a moment of terror, stood the charred body of the Thorned Princess.

<[Chapter 09]–[Index]–[Chapter 11]>

[calacavera-blog]

maldicion / perdicion

Something didn’t feel right.

It was a gut instinct that he had become familiar with, and one that he had grown to trust. Something akin to how dogs would howl or cats would mewl or birds would scatter and animals act erratically just before a sudden natural disaster; there was a pit in his stomach that formed like a knot that settled to tighten as a fist.

Of course, this all was a given when in the middle of a horde of undead trying to kill you, but even in this situation something didn’t settle right with him, using a rather long machete he found in gardening supplies as a weapon. Something felt off.

The stench from the rotted corpses bathed in seawater was horrible and the nausea overtook him for a moment as he pinched his nose and breathed through his mouth to recover.

There were stories he heard of those he had rescued and helped over to shelter--stories of meeting their deceased loved ones as these undead, decaying remnants of lost worlds. Sometimes not even deceased. Perhaps that was the source of his unease: the possibility of this happening to him.

No matter what, he thought to himself, he was already prepared to face whoever in his past might return. He had paid his dues in those letters. He had promised to take care of him if their paths crossed. He was prepared.

As he slashed through a row of three, he continued his way down the district. He heard a sound down one of the alleys. He turned a corner into it in an attempt to investigate. There, at the backend, he discovered the sound was the meowing of a stray cat in a dumpster.

He smiled at it, opened a can of tuna from his pack, and left it at a corner for it to eat. He was fine with leaving the cat alone; he trusted animals to be able to survive on their own than humans, after all.

He turned around to walk out the alley, but was stopped.

No.

There was a figure shambling through the corner of the alley, its head slamming into the wall as it was unable to correct itself through the turn in time.

No...

He was prepared. But not for this.

“No... No, no, no...” he whispered. There was no panic, shock, or fear in his voice. It was a tired sort of mumbling, when despair had reached a point beyond an event horizon that all emotion was dulled for the moment.

Short, wavy blonde hair. A clover hairpin. Green eyes. A certain scar on the right wrist. Average stature. Slender frame. He began to picture a coy smile. All of it replaced by a rotted bastardization.

“No, no... Not you. Please, not you. Please...” He started to laugh, and that made his blood run cold.

“Why you. Out of... Why...” His voice was louder, addressing the staggering corpse approaching him closer.

“No... Tina...” he finally whispered out her nickname.

She was reading a book. A very thin book, with pictures. A comic book.

He sat next to her, engrossed in a heftier book--one without pictures at all.

While he silently moved his lips, mouthing the words he read on page, she was quietly tapping a rhythm on the back cover of her comic book.

A steady rhythm at first, but it was slowly increasing in tempo and volume, to the point where he thought there was a woodpecker around.

“AUGH! THAT’S ENOUGH!” she finally cried out in exasperation, startling him enough to close the book. He frowned, realizing he lost the page he was on.

“Tina...?” he asked, but was cut off before he could ask more.

“THIS IS SO BORING! THAT’S ENOUGH WAITING AROUND READING BORING NERD BOOKS!”

“But you’re reading a comic b--”

“YOU ARE READING THE BORING NERD BOOKS!”

“But this is a book you gave m--”

“IT”S STILL A BORING NERD BOOK!”

“But you’ve already read this through four t--”

“AND I GOT BORED OF THIS BORING NERD BOOK! THAT’S WHY I GAVE IT TO YOU! UGH, KEEP UP MERCY!” she let out a sigh, running her hands back and forth through her short hair.

“Oh, I’m sorry...” said the boy, scratching the back of his own head.

“AND QUIT APOLOGIZING! DIDN’T I TELL YOU YOU’RE TOO MUCH OF A DOORMAT?”

“Sorr--I mean, okay...” he said, having opened his book to a random page, bringing it up to hide his face in.

The girl paused, setting her comic book aside. She clicked her tongue.

“Ahhh, no I’m sorry. It’s just so boring sitting in one spot so long. I did enough of that reading too many nerd books,” she spoke in lower volume and calmer tone.

“It’s okay. Then...do we do something?” the boy asked, unsure of what would help her boredom.

“We can try jump rope again!” she shouted in excitement.

“It still hurts where I fell down last time...” the boy whispered. He didn’t like pain at all.

“Let’s go rollerblading!”

“I fell down then, too.”

“Play catch?”

“I sprained my wrist.”

“Mercy, you’re pretty weak.”

“...Oh.” He appeared hurt by that.

“Th-That’s why I’m doing these things with you to make you stronger! So you can protect me and stuff, like a real hero!” She tried to recover the foot in her mouth, standing up from beneath the shade of the oak tree, smiling at him with radiance. She reached one hand to playfully ruffle his hair. “Come on! Let’s go arm wrestle! Uh, left hand!”

The boy closed the book and carefully set it aside, his smile more timid. “O-Okay!”

Around their group of friends, he was considered the baby. It was something he loathed, and it was the source of a number of insecurities he would carry through life, but he really couldn’t object to the role.

He was introduced to them by Tatyana, after all. Well, more adopted. Even after he was slowly beginning to open up to everyone, he still stuck beside her and spent most of his time around her.

It was funny, their friends babied him more than she did, but he still only really felt closest to her. Perhaps because she knew, deep down and unconscious, that being babied was something he didn’t want--that he wanted to be treated like a normal friend and not the cute kid everyone wanted to pinch cheeks.

Still, even as he became more outgoing and his smiles grew wider, his timid nature slowly left him, they tended to leave him as the one to be attended to, like some very spoiled prince. It’d been years, and relatively little had changed.

Maybe being called Mercy made him come off cuter than he wanted.

During a trip to the beach, he was taught how to swim by the oldest of their group. He was given food bought for him by the motherly of their group. He napped beneath a palm tree after dozing off from reading a book, and he woke up with a bleach blanket wrapped around him.

“You just have that demeanor,” said one of them.

“You can’t be left alone.”

He felt bad.

“Well... It’s more like, you have this thing about you where people want to take care of you.”

He sighed, then laughed.

“Volleyball?” shouted Tatyana.

On the bus ride home, Tatyana had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He stared at her for a few seconds, tilting his head. He playfully ruffled her hair. Then he yawned. He ended up taking a nap, too, his head resting on the crown of hers.

Sometimes...he was okay with being babied. At least, he was thankful to her to have met such kind friends.

“You’ve been...” Tatyana forced a smile, pausing her words.

She couldn’t let out what had been eating her up for the past six months. Her smile wavered for a bit--she dug her nails into her crossed arms.

“Mercy, are you...” She laughed, anxious.

Mercutio froze up, but his wide and bright smile returned. It was about two months from his seventeenth birthday, but in their quiet meeting he had told her he didn’t feel like celebrating this year.

“Did something happen...?” she finally asked.

“...No? What do you mean?” he answered, his smile still the same.

“...that,” she whispered.

“...Sorry?” he asked, not having heard her clearly.

“I hate that... Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He still smiled, this time nervous.

“I can’t stand that! STOP SMILING WHEN YOU DON’T WANT TO!” she shouted, her anger overcoming her concern. “WHAT DO I MEAN? YOU WERE GONE FOR A WHOLE MONTH. THEN YOU COME BACK WITH A SCAR ON YOUR FACE AND YOU TELL ME NOT TO WORRY AND SAY THIS STUPID EXCUSE THAT YOU WENT CAMPING OUT OF NOWHERE? I TRIED PLAYING DUMB, BUT I CAN’T. WHAT’S GOING ON WITH YOU?”

For once, he stopped smiling.

In a bout of silence, all he did was look away from the worry in her angered face. The wind that swept through old playground they used to love caused the swings to creak into motion. Branches were swaying.

“...That’s none of your business,” he finally said.

Her face dropped.

“...You don’t mean that,” she stated in a blank tone. “You don’t mean that at all.”

“But I do,” he replied, turning to look directly at her.

“No. What happened to you? You’ve been so distant since you came back. You’re always smiling. I was happy you started smiling again, but they felt so fake. That’s not my Mercy.”

“Your Mercy?”

“Mine.”

He clicked his tongue.

“Nothing. Just felt a change. Maybe I’m stronger now.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just...pushing everything away. You’re not stronger. You’re colder. You feel so lonely.”

“Is that so bad? I’m getting out of your hair. Look, I’m doing fine. You think just because I’m not clingy that I’m not okay? Just how weak do you think I am?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what the fuck do you mean?”

“...I mean that you’re not right. I don’t know what it is, but you’re hiding something I should know. Why won’t you tell me?” She was scratching her shoulder.

“And why should you know?”

“Because I’m worried and you owe it to me as your friend?”

“I don’t owe you anything you don’t have to know. Besides, it’s to protect you.”

“PROTECT ME?” she shouted once more. She paused. “Protect me? You’re not protecting me. You’re hurting me and you.”

He stayed quiet, before whispering out a “Sorry.”

“Sorry? That’s it? Half-assed? Tell me! Tell me. You at least owe me a reason.”

“I owe you shit,” he murmured. Then she slapped his face.

Then he realized that he had caught her wrist in his hand by reflex, and that he was unknowingly bending her wrist at an odd angle.

Then he saw tears swell in her eyes--the pain on her shivering figure more emotional than physical. Then his heart sank.

“What happened to my Mercy?” she whispered through despair.

He let go of her wrist. She pulled it away in fear. She looked at him as if he were a monster. That was the first time he’d ever hurt her. That was the first time they’d ever hurt each other.

“I’m sorry. I’m not your Mercy anymore,” was all he could muster before running away, leaving her alone to fall back on a creaky swing.

He couldn’t hear her cry “Please come back” under her breath.

From then on, they would not speak more than a few words to each other. A rift formed, separating them, even as Mercutio couldn’t numb himself to the remorse.

It wouldn’t be about two years later that he would confess all his burdens with tears in his eyes.

As he carried her body in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” a voice asked out to the boy with his head bowed, near the wall behind the playground of an elementary school.

The boy visibly flinched, then slowly raised his head. He had brown hair combed to a part, neat and tidy. It was very clear that someone else had combed his hair for him. It was also very clear from his brown eyes he’d been crying.

“Why you all alone here?” the voice asked, a girl with blonde hair and green eyes. She looked genuinely confused.

The boy didn’t speak for a good minute, but the girl just kept peering at him in wonder.

“...No one comes here,” he finally answered, his voice low.

“But you’re here!” she exclaimed, sitting down next to him. The boy scooted a few inches away.

“No one else comes here,” he elaborated.

“So you want ta be alone?”

“...Yes...” he said, with a bit of coaxing.

“How come?” she asked. The boy realized she was going to keep this until he gave a straight answer.

“Everyone hates me. They call me a monster and laugh and put glue in my shoes.” Oh, that was too straightforward, he thought.

“What! Why?” she asked. There was a moment of silence as the boy played with a shoelace.

“Oh! You’re that kid!” she suddenly spoke up, startling the boy. She smiled. “That boy! The cut arm one!”

A strange way to phrase it, but she was right. He’d cut his arm while on the swing during recess, an accident caused by a bent chain link. He was crying loudly, and a number of kids gathered around trying to help and call the teacher. But by the time the teacher got there, the cut had already healed, the blood he’d already wiped clean out of panicking. The teacher asked him not to lie, and the kids who’d saw his arm heal started calling him a monster.

“...Yeah...” he said. She clapped, startling him for the third time.

“That’s so cool! Can you really?!” She was excited. “Can you show me!”

“...” The boy looked confused and concerned, then scratched his palm deep enough to draw blood. He winced in pain, but in a matter of seconds the scratch healed. He looked back up at the girl to see her eyes wide.

He bowed his head, waiting to be called a monster again.

“What are you doing?!” she shouted, grabbing his hand and checking his palm.

“Sh-Showing you...?” He was startled once more, but this time he was scooting further away from her touch.

“I asked can you, not may you! All the teachers keep correcting us about it, how come you ain’t know the difference?!’ she shouted, only making him more confused.

“Sorry...” Regardless, he apologized.

“Don’t be! It’s ‘cause I ain’t spoke right,” she said, finally letting go of his hand after confirming it was okay. Then, her anger was turned into a wide smile. “But that’s so cool! You can fix up your body super quick! Like a...! Like uh, um...”

“Monster...” he finished.

“SUPERHERO!” she corrected.

“...Wha--”

“A SUPERHERO! You’re like a superhero! In the comics and stuff! That’s so cool! Are you a superhero?”

“No...?”

“You gotta be one! Great power! I forgot the rest, but great power!”

“...Okay...?”

“Then it’s decided! We’re gonna make you a superhero! Stop bad guys! Then you can protect people! Oh, protect me! Wait, no, sidekick? I’ll be sidekick!” Throughout her rambling, her excitement only grew. Even the boy was starting to feel the same energy.

“Y-Yeah!” he finally spoke in a voice louder than a whisper.

“You get a costume!”

“Yeah!”

“You kick butts!”

“Yea--No!” All his excitement was sapped at the thought of hurting others.

“...No good?” she asked.

“No good...” he confirmed.

“Oh...” She clicked her tongue. “But you can still protect people! Super cool!”

“Cool?”

“Yeah, really cool! Come on, we gotta work to think of a name and stuff! Let’s do this!” She was standing up, hopping on one leg then another. “Wait! What’s your name?”

“Mercutio,” he responded.

“Mercucho?”

“Mercutio...”

“Marecushow?”

“Mer--”

“Argh! It’s hard to say! I’ll just--OH! I’ll call you Mercy!”

“Mercy...?”

“Yeah, and it could be like your superhero name! Friendly Neighborhood Mercy! No, that’s copying. Uh... Your Mercy! You like it?”

“I guess...” He didn’t want to admit that being called Mercy was a bit embarrassing.

“Great! I’m Tatyana! Tatyana Fauvel!”

“T-Tati--”

“No, we’re not doing that again. Call me Tina!”

“Tina...?”

“Yeah!”

“Tina...!” he said, beaming.

“Yeah! Let’s go be--no your hair won’t do,” she said, reaching one hand and ruffling Mercy’s hair, messing up his combed hair. “Superheroes can’t have lame hair! It’s gotta be cool like you fight and stuff!”

He could admit that he flinched, but he could also admit that it felt nice. Since then, they would play every recess, and she would always ruffle his hair. Pretty soon, the original intent to make him a superhero was lost and they became best friends. At that point, ruffling his hair was more out of affection.

All these memories ran through his mind. Memories he’d tried to keep away, locked in the farthest corners of his mind. Memories that flooded his head, threatening to drown him. Memories that paralyzed him and locked him in place.

Her voice. Her voice kept echoing in his head. His ears were ringing, and her friendly and caring voice kept repeating. 

His cherished, dearest, childhood friend. The friend he didn’t write a letter to. The friend he tried to forget. The friend who died because of him. The friend he carried in his arms.

He kept shaking his head, sweat beading on his brow. Tears falling from his eyes in torrents. Even without a clear sign of emotion on his face.

Was this punishment for having tried to abandon her memory? No, there was no divine reason. It was just pure chance. Another joke.

He was stuck in a state of perpetual grief, anger, denial, guilt, and sadness. He became unaware of everything but her memory. He didn’t even notice that her shambling corpse had reached him, nor did he realize that she was chewing his arm.

It was just her. Her voice. Her voice.

Her voice. Encouraging him.

“You can do it, wimp!”

Her voice. Her voice. Her voice. Her voice.

“Keep it together, man.”                                                       “Second place for player two. Haha.”

Her voice. Her voice. Laughing at her own bad jokes. Her voice her voice.

Her.

“Are you okay?”

“You should eat more. You’re skinny.”              “Smile!”                                       “Model ships?”                   “Have you ever tried poker?”                  “Royal flush! Oh, that’s a straight.”           “I learned how to sew!”                       “Don’t wake me up until... Five more minutes...”                  “Are you hungry?”                “Since I’m all grown now, I can eat two burgers easy.”   “Listen to this.”         “Pull my finger!”                            “That was a mistake, my stomach...”         “Are you okay?”                  “That’s three times I win in a row!”        “I’m bored.”  “Have you met my dad?”        “Miklo said he could take us fishing. Do you wanna go?”                            “It’s like. Everything’s too hard. Math sucks.”                “Stay put, your hair...”                            Her.                                                        “Where’s the watermelon?”     “You pepper the ravioli.”                                                           “My Mercy.”                                                                                                    “Let’s split it. I’ll give you half.”              “You fucking nerd.”                                                 Voice.

                                                              “My Mercy.”

“...Isn’t that enough?”

His eyes were devoid of light.

What a wonderful dream we shared.

He only reached his hands around her rotted corpse still biting through his arm, pulled her in close into a hug.

Your dreams won’t last forever.

Then he screamed.

Despaired. Loud. Guttural. Demonic.

He was holding tightly to her corpse, hearing it crunch the more pressure he placed.

He kept blaming himself for neglecting her.

He kept blaming himself for what happened to her.

He kept blaming himself because he couldn’t ask for forgiveness anymore.

There were more shamblers approaching, having been alerted to his location by his scream. All he did was stare blankly at the approaching horde. His machete had been dropped, but he was okay.

He was okay.

He was prepared.

He fought okay with his hands, personally tearing the limbs off every single one. Methodical. Emotionless. Not a man, neither a beast.

Even as he was swarmed, he was methodical. Locked away in his mind.

Blood. Body parts. Heads. All scattered on the floor.

I’m sorry, Tina.

All except one.

I won’t carry you to be buried. Not a second time. I won’t leave you.

He was cradling a severed head in his arms; crying and trying to smile. He hugged it close to his chest. He vowed to kill whoever had brought her back, desecrating her rest.

I won’t forget. Not again.

He would sit there, crying with her head.

The same mistake.

[newstfionline]

The guy in the red apron

By Bobby Ross Jr., Religion News Service, Nov. 30, 2017

NORTH RICHLAND HILLS, Texas (RNS)—To hear Bruce Bachman tell it, he’s just a guy with a bell, a red apron and a heart to serve who gives a little of his time during the holiday season.

He’s just one of the thousands of volunteer bell ringers who keep alive a 127-year tradition that the Salvation Army traces to Capt. Joseph McFee, who set out a large, iron kettle in 1891 to collect funds for a Christmas dinner in San Francisco.

From Thanksgiving to Christmas, the change, bills and occasional large checks and gold coins that Americans drop into about 25,000 kettles from coast to coast amount to roughly $150 million, said Lt. Col. Ron Busroe, the Salvation Army’s national community relations and development secretary.

Some bell ringers wish passers-by a heartfelt “Merry Christmas” and hope the kettle fills. But many others, like Bachman, have honed strategies and routines to make the most of the uncompensated work—for the Salvation Army and for all who come within earshot.

Just before 10 a.m. on a busy shopping day, the 61-year-old consulting engineer arrives at a Hobby Lobby arts and crafts store with a mailbox-sized stereo, a box of Christmas CDs and a plastic baggie full of hard candy.

“I bring the candy to suck on so I don’t have to drink as much water,” Bachman explains. He knows he won’t have time for meals or bathroom breaks, so he tries to be prepared (eating a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon and hash browns ahead of time).

He’ll stand outside for eight hours and—as a mix of Bing Crosby, Mannheim Steamroller and “A Charlie Brown Christmas” tunes plays—invite customers to donate to the Salvation Army’s red kettle campaign.

“God bless you!” he tells a woman who pulls money out of her purse. “You have a very merry Christmas!”

“Hello, cutie!” he says in his best Donald Duck voice as 3-year-old Jubilee Longoria approaches the kettle with a handful of coins.

For the preschooler, the kettle and the bell are likely to become visual and auditory markers of the Christmas season, just as they have for generations before her.

Busroe heard one of those bells as he exited a subway station in New York recently, outside Macy’s department store. Some, he noted, believe that sidewalk Santa Clauses and Salvation Army solicitors in New York were the inspiration for the popular Christmas song “Silver Bells,” first recorded in 1950. (One of the song’s co-writers has disputed that.)

“Christmas bells and Christmas kettles are synonymous with the Salvation Army,” said Busroe, an ordained minister for the group, a Christian denomination that claims about 2 million members around the world and belongs to the National Association of Evangelicals.

The Salvation Army’s mission statement calls for it “to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ and to meet human needs in His name without discrimination.”

“It’s all variety of walks of life and professions,” Busroe said of the volunteer bell ringers, most of whom do not belong to the Salvation Army church. “You have service clubs—Rotary, Kiwanis, Lions, Optimist—and many of them in a local community will have competitions” to see which can raise the most money.

“Church groups will take a kettle for a day, a week or an entire season,” he added. “It’s all different groups of people, and we’re constantly needing volunteers.”

The annual funds raised enable the Salvation Army USA to provide more than 56 million meals and 10 million nights of shelter as well as youth programs, summer camps and adult rehabilitation services, according to the Alexandria, Va.-based organization.

“I believe that God talks about love. Love is the greatest commandment, and we have to take care of our brothers and sisters,” said Mark Colebrook, a high school math teacher who sings “Jingle Bells” and other Christmas carols with his 16-year-old daughter, Makaila, when they ring the bell outside a Sam’s Club store in Goldsboro, N.C.

“The Salvation Army—they not only talk the talk, but they walk the walk,” added Colebrook, a Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) member.

Debbie Newton, a 47-year-old real estate agent, organizes bell ringers at a Bel Air Foods store in Roseville, Calif., near Sacramento. Her father, Joe Newton, and 17-year-old son, Kaz, join the volunteers, many of whom don Santa hats and elf costumes.

“I raised my son down there at the Salvation Army, sorting toys and cooking breakfast and ringing the bells,” said Debbie Newton, who attends an Evangelical Covenant Church congregation.

“It’s important that we are able to help the people in our community who don’t have the means, or maybe the good fortune, to live the life that they want,” added Newton, noting that red kettle money stays in the area in which it’s raised, a fact confirmed by Busroe.

CharityWatch, a Chicago-based watchdog group, gives the Salvation Army’s four regional headquarters financial efficiency ratings ranging from B-plus to A-minus.

“It’s great that they run their kettle campaign … with staff or volunteers rather than professional fund-raising companies that may give the charity only a small percentage of the donations collected,” CharityWatch President Daniel Borochoff said in an email.

“The kettle campaign is also a lot less risky than giving cash to a street solicitor who may use the money for drugs, alcohol or other such purposes that don’t aid with his recovery.”

In the shadow of the downtown Fort Worth skyline about 10 miles away, most shoppers make eye contact and return Bachman’s friendly greeting.

“If they don’t want to talk to me, they’ll go in the other door,” he said with a chuckle, pointing down the sidewalk to the other end of the store.

Often, people thank him for the help that the Salvation Army provided to them or a loved one.

“I had this woman yesterday who still has a brother living at the Salvation Army,” Bachman said. “I got the impression he was either an alcoholic or a drug addict, and they were trying to help him out.

“I’ve had one kid tell me about how the Salvation Army got his uncle off heroin and back onto a normal life,” he added. “Another woman told me that when she was a little girl, without the Salvation Army, they would have starved because her father died and her mother was all alone raising four kids.”

Stacy Reddicks stuffed a $10 bill in Bachman’s kettle as a Hobby Lobby employee rolled her cart full of Christmas crafts out of the store.

Reddicks, 39, said she and her husband, John, were temporarily homeless and helped by a faith-based ministry when she was pregnant with their 5-year-old daughter, Gracee.

“I look in my wallet, and if there’s cash, I always feel led to give what I have,” Reddicks said. “We’ve been in that situation … so we just want to give back because we know that God has put us in a position now where we’re able to give.”

Bachman’s engineering work keeps him on the road much of the year. But during the Christmas season, he arranges his schedule so that he can ring the bell at least once a week. He started volunteering for the Salvation Army about eight or nine years ago after going on an around-the-world trip on his motorcycle.

“I’m helping—how do I put it?—because I believe that’s what God wants me to do is to help my fellow man,” Bachman said.

In a typical shift, his red kettle generates between $400 and $600.

Blue-sky, 70-degree days—not uncommon in Texas this time of year—make for a more comfortable volunteer experience. But sleet and snow can drive up donations: “If it’s miserable and they see me standing there, they have sympathy and throw more money in the bucket,” Bachman said with a grin.

Regardless of the weather conditions, no gift—as he sees it—is too small.

“I just thank everybody,” said Bachman, the Christmas music blending with the roar of tractor-trailers speeding along nearby Interstate 820. “If somebody says, ‘Oh, I’ve just got a little bit of change,’ I’ll say, ‘Hey, every little bit counts. Give whatever you can.’

“It doesn’t matter whether it’s a little kid putting a dime or a quarter in or somebody putting in a $20 bill—it all adds up.”

[misslunamiste]

Into the Unknown

A story for Esen Zephyre, Round 02 of MYRIAD Island.

Esen wasn’t a morning person.  Like many people around her age, she liked to sleep in and schedule her classes late.  However, nature didn’t agree, so Esen found herself waking up every time the sun rose on the island. 

It had been about two days since the crash, and most of the other survivors had decided to stay near the crash site.  After all, there was food and shelter easily provided, thanks to the plane and the supplies it had. Unfortunately, there was one problem. 

“We need water.” Esen pointed out to Sek later that day. 

Sek raised an eyebrow. “And?”   

“Maybe you have some sort of idea of what we could do to get some?” Esen asked. 

Sek sighed. “Scout out the island? I guess. There’s no real way to know what’s out there unless we look.”   

As if on cue, Ryker ran up to them, blowing wind in their faces. "Hey guys! Took a look around the island." 

“What did you see?” Esen asked. 

“Uh…” Ryker frowned, walking over to a clear patch of dirt, drawing a circle. “So, let’s say this is the island.”   

“It’s not a circle.” Sek muttered. 

“This is an analogy for the island.” Ryker explained, drawing an ‘A’. “This is us, the crash site.” He then drew a ‘B’. “This is the beach. It’s pretty and not super rocky.  Good for…fishing?”   

Esen nodded, frowning. “Is that the only beach on the island?”   

“It is, the rest is pretty much a drop.” Ryker explained, drawing a ‘C’. “This is the lake, it’s kind of far but probably good for fresh water. Or bathing, I guess.”   

“And ruin our water supply?” Sek pointed out. “That would be wasteful.”   

Ryker nodded as he drew the letter ‘D,’ followed by a small line. “This is the river, it runs through the island. I don’t know what type of water runs through it, before you ask.” He then drew an ‘E’. “And this is part of the forest that is most of the island.  Behind it are mountains and what I assume is that big, ugly building that says ‘myriad’.”   

“Is it myriad, like the word, or MYRIAD, standing for something?” Esen wondered. “Like an acronym?”   

Ryker frowned. “Whatever it is, I think we’re smart enough not to trust some fancy-sounding name on a building.”   

Esen nodded, biting her lip. “Exactly.”   

Eventually, others woke on the island, and it was decided that they would split up in order to look for needed supplies.  It was an uneven set of four groups, but she noted that Sek and Elian were going to the lake, Arden and Ryker to the river, Jana and Emmett to the beach, which left Damia and herself to go to the forest.  Not that she minded, of course.  She was more than happy to avoid any contact with water. 

The group had wandered on ahead, leaving Damia and Esen in the back.  Damia hadn’t said much since her fight with Ryker on the day of the crash, and Esen figured it might have been for the best to avoid further conflict.  However, Esen couldn’t help but feel bad, so she decided to break the ice. 

“So…” Esen started, “not a big fan of water?”   

Damia looked down. “No, not exactly.  Trees are better, less of a chance of certain death.”   

“What if it falls on you?”   

Damia gave Esen a half-smile. “That’s an extreme case.”   

“I guess.”  Esen nodded, looking around and noticing a berry bush. “Hey, berries!” She exclaimed, starting to walk towards them. 

Almost immediately after, Damia grabbed her arm and pulled her away. “Poisonous berries, actually.” She pointed out, frowning. “Have you ever camped?”   

Esen sighed. “Once, with Alyss. It wasn’t the best.” She bit her lip. “I’m a city kid, I’m never going to be suited for this stuff.”   

Damia offered her a smile. “You’ll get used to it if we’re here long enough.”   

Esen shrugged. “I hope we’re not here any longer than we have to be, I know we’re not here by chance.” She pointed out, holding up her wrist, tattooed with ‘002’. 

Damia frowned, showing her own wrist with ‘001’ tattooed on it. “These numbers may be random, but they could mean something…” 

“Like what?” 

“Maybe…” Damia trailed off, frowning. Esen followed her gaze and gasped.  In front of the group was a cloud of what looked like gas, but something seemed familiar to Esen.  She looked at the color, and remembered. 

The interrogation. 

The pain. 

The glowing. 

“It’s the aerosol.” Esen whispered. “It has to be, this has to be MYRIAD! Th-they want to find us, and-“ 

“Esen, slow down.” Damia told the other girl, but she wouldn’t listen. 

“No! You tried to kill a man because of this, you know what this stuff can do. We have to…escape it somehow.” Esen decided.  By that point, the rest of the group was far in front of them, and Esen hoped they had a plan. 

Damia looked around, and it looked like she got an idea.  She grabbed Esen’s hand, pulling her in a different direction. “Follow me, quickly!”   

Esen ran with Damia, not recognizing the terrain but noticing that it moved downward.  However, she recognized something that made her stop. 

“A river?” Esen asked, frowning. “What is your plan?”   

Damia winced. “You can manipulate the air so we can stay underneath the water while the aerosol passes over us.  There’s a strong wind today so it won’t linger for long.” She explained. 

“No…no! Absolutely not!” Esen stepped away from the river. “I’d…I’d drown.”   

“No, you wouldn’t.” Damia explained. “I could…manipulate what you see. Put you in an illusion so you wouldn’t panic.  It would save both of us.”   

Esen turned away, sighing.  She wasn’t exactly happy about trusting one of the only people Alyss had warned her about, but it seemed like her only option. “Okay.” She said quietly. “We have to sit in the water first, then.” 

Damia nodded and the pair made their way down to the river, stepping into it and submerging themselves.  Esen made air bubbles around each of them so they could breath, then nodded at Damia.  The terror around her faded, turning into something that Esen wouldn’t be able to recall hours later. 

The one thing Esen did remember, was that Alyss was there, and it only made her worry about her relative even more.

[annamcnuff]

Reflections on bike ride through the 50 states

“America is just like the UK, only… bigger, right?”

I’d like to ask you all a favour. If you ever happen to be within earshot of such a comment, please make a beeline for the offending individual (even if it requires a Starsky & Hutch style roll across a car bonnet), cup their face firmly between your hands, lean in and scream “Nooooooooo.” It’s a common misconception. And one that I harboured myself a year ago. The truth is that our beloved countries are hugely and unbelievably different - both physically and culturally. I could write a thesis on the points that set us apart; Laws, history, work ethic, transport, environmental issues, to name but a few. My personal fave however, is language & communication.

Never before have I been so acutely aware how we British dance around our sentences - using colloquialisms, semi apologies and flowery comparisons to get a point across. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. In fact, I’m the worst offender of the prolonged prose. Here’s an example:

British: “Umm would it be possible, to perhaps, I mean, if it’s not too much trouble, to have a cup of coffee? And if there was a bit of milk hanging around in the fridge, that’d be lovely too.”

American: “Yeah I’ll take a Coffee. Milk. No sugar.”

THE GOOD TIMES

Oh my there were many. So so many. More than I’d ever hoped. Watching grizzly bears forage in the shadow of the Mount McKinley. Finding myself on the road at dawn in the desert, alone with no sound beyond the whirr of my wheels. Cresting that first pass in the Rocky Mountains. Striding through the plains of Wyoming, a herd of mustangs running alongside. Perched on a rickety bench, watching the morning sun creep above the North rim of the Grand Canyon. Finally leaving Route 50, America’s Lonliest road. Stargazing at 2am in Colorado. Looking out at classroom of excited schoolchildren, kids as young as five telling me they want to be an adventurer when they grow up too. Welling up when leaving families who’d taken me in over a storm. Eating breakfast with an 85 year old Grandma, listening to her tales of love lost and a life well lived.

THE BAD TIMES

Let it be known that it ain’t all rainbows and sunshine in Adventureville. Battling chronic knee pain for 2 months. Camping alone in Northern Wyoming, scared witless that a bear might come wandering by. Pitching my tent in a bush between an interstate and a freight railway line, a train shaking the ground every two hours. Pulling two people out of a car wreck in Colorado. Setting out to ride 120 miles in pouring Iowa rain, being soaked to the skin, verging on hypothermic and searching for a motel within 20. Riding into Cleveland on a busy road in the dark, fearing I’d be hit at any moment. A motor home passing far too close and almost sucking me under the back wheels. A campground owner treating me like vermin. Getting homesick with 6 weeks to go. Facing 30 mph headwinds.

WE, HUMAN BEANS

Are you still with me? Awesome. Perhaps pause for a cuppa, and go grab yourself a biccie? This shiz is about to get real.

If there’s one thing I’ve learnt over the past 7 months, it’s that we’re a race governed by fear (hold those cries of ‘Steady on, love’ and hear me out). I know it makes evolutionary sense that we be wary of situations that could potentially cause us harm, but somewhere along the way, we took it too far. We began to spend our time focused on the things we can and can’t do, rather than the things we could.

I could have been attacked by a bear. Or a man. (Or a half man, half bear.) I could have been run over by a truck. Then again, at home, I could slip and smack my head on a work surface in the kitchen. I could get knocked down by the 281 as I cross the road in Teddington Town. In fact, the chances of the latter things happening are probably higher than the former. What am I do to? Stay out of the kitchen? Not go outside? Well that’s just ridiculous. Precisely. It is.

The truth is we don’t like doing things beyond our usual remit, because they expose cracks in our character. Weaknesses. Parts that we try to keep hidden from others to ensure we maintain a perception of us as a high functioning member of society. It’s only natural. I do it too. Yet nothing frustrates me more than hearing “I’d love to do that” To which, nowadays, I tend to go into bitch mode and reply: “So do it then.” It’s probably actually that you a) don’t want to do it badly enough (which is totally cool), b) it’s not a priority right now (again, totally cool) or c) that you’ve given yourself a hundred reasons why you shouldn’t. And what’s more, convinced yourself that those reasons are valid ones.

The only difference between me having spent the past 7 months blowing my mind, and having… not, was deciding that my excuses were just that. And that it was actually an option to go. Which, not having any real responsibilities and being at the point in my life that I am, it was. And I’m grateful for that. In short, when are you ever going to regret trying to do something that you really want to do? I’ll give you a clue, the answer is: Never.

If there’s one precious secret I’d like to share, it’s this: When you put yourself out 'there’, way beyond your comfort zone, indulge in endeavours that cause your heart to beat fast and your chest to tighten - amazing things happen. Doors open, opportunities arise and most importantly, the painful chinks in your armour heal. The cracks that threaten to make you fall apart - they seal over. You become far stronger than you’d ever imagined. You grow, immeasurably. You surprise yourself, and you find it a far easier process to meet your own gaze in the mirror. We’re animals after all. In testing circumstances it will always come down to fight or flight. And you’re not very well going to lay down, are you?

I, A HUMAN BEAN

So what have I learnt about myself? Well. There are a few things I always suspected to be true. And then there’s a few new faces at my personality party.

Accept help where help is offered: I really don’t like asking for help. But what dawned on me through the trip is that sometimes the best experiences come from letting others save your British Bacon. If a stranger walks across a campground at breakfast time, and offers you coffee and a banana - newsflash, they want to give you coffee and a banana. In fact, it’d be ruder not to take it. From here in in I will be doing my best to accept all offers of coffee and bananas, among other things.

Please yourself, and only yourself: I’ve always held the belief that you should only really satisfy yourself in this life. I don’t mean be selfish, being proud of who you are and the way you behave goes hand in hand with treating others as you would like to be treated, after all. I’ve got two star based tattoos about my person, because I love stars. And I love stars because they remind me how marvellously insignificant I am. And that in the grand scheme of things no one really cares what you do, so you may as well do as you darn well like. That’s not changed.

Cut the comparison: We’re all so hard on ourselves. Constantly criticising and comparing the way we look, act and what we achieve with our peers. Facebook and Twitter can turn to tools of self destruction, and it’s exhausting. I do it a lot, and I’m trying my best to let it go. It’s incredibly difficult. And I know I’ll lapse from time to time. But I also know that comparing yourself to another person is downright ridiculous. It’s verging on insane. If you’ll excuse the cheesy trumpets and rousing theme music - there is no other like you. So please stop it. And I’ll try my best to do the same.

There’s a difference between being alone and being lonely: I haven’t really been lonely at all on the trip. In fact, I’ve felt more lonely at times in London, surrounded by people, than I have on my tod in the middle of the desert. I could be biased, but to spend time in your own company, you’ve got to be pretty good friends with yourself. I mean, you can’t have too many anxieties or insecurities, or they’ll eat you up from the inside out. So I think a little alone time is a great thing. It forces you to reevaluate whether you’re truly happy with what you’re spending your precious time on the planet doing. And that’s why so many people shy away from it. Because they’re not.

There’s a difference between being a bad ass, and a dumb ass. Pushing on through pain, bashing out 130 miles, dragging yourself out of bed when all you want to do is sleep - that’s badass. Winding up on a busy road at the mercy of trucks, ending up soaking and freezing with no shelter in sight and heading out to ride in a big storm - that’s dumb ass. And it’s been one of the greatest learnings of the trip. Dumb ass actions will only get you, and possibly others into trouble. And for what? So it’s bad ass action only from here on in.

WHAT NOW?

I’m going to write a book. Because, well, I’ve rediscovered that I love writing. And that there’s a real joy and art in sharing a good story. I hope some people will read it, but at worst it’ll be a record for any sproglets I have in years to come. I have no doubt it will be a tortuous experience, and don’t be fooled into thinking I have the faintest idea what I’m doing, but it seems to me like a marvellous new challenge for the next 6 months.

I’ll be refashioning the www.thebigfive-o.com into a historical record of what went down in Five-O town, and starting up a new blog - to host tales of all future adventures. If you’ve enjoyed following this one, don’t let this be the end of something beautiful. I’d love it if you made a mental note of the highly original www.annamcnuff.com. You’ll find me waiting for you all there with open arms in the very near future.

Tomorrow sees a return to work at Sky TV. To a bunch of people I love spending time with, and a job I do actually really enjoy. I doubt it’ll be too long before I’m off again somewhere for an extended period, but in the meantime I’m throwing myself back at working life 100%. And cramming every spare second around it with mini adventures. Adventure is a state of mind, after all. And my brain is addled forevermore.

Lastly, I can’t thank you all enough for sharing this trip with me. For the support, kindness and untold levels of awesomeness you’ve wafted in my general direction. Whatever future mischief lies in wait, you guys will always be my first adventure army.

One love. Peace out.

McNuff xxx