#red boulder fountain

[finnyprotectionsquad]

Outdoor Kitchen Miami Inspiration for a mid-sized asian courtyard stone patio kitchen remodel with a gazebo

[httyd-mc-pl-twilight]

Outdoor Kitchen - Asian Patio

Inspiration for a mid-sized asian courtyard stone patio kitchen remodel with a gazebo

[galedekarios]

gale & curing the orb - early access

writing my current series of cut content from early access made me think a lot, especially about how curing gale of the orb might have originally worked out if larian had kept to what had been set up in early access. it's no secret that a lot of things were changed or cut entirely, big and small, like for instance halsin's involvement with ketheric's fall, isobel and the shadow curse.

gale's condition, too, seemed different then.

what exactly was different in early access?

while only a few body models were unique in early access, gale's key art showed his left arm in bandages.

in early access, auntie ethel had vicious mockery lines, which hinted what might be beneath those bandages:

Auntie Ethel: I can smell what's under those bandages, wizard. You're all rot and ruin. Come to greet death early? You'll be a lovely spectacle.

we also had information from gale directly as to what happened to karsus in the aftermath of casting his spell:

Player: I was wondering about that “mighty lord” you told me about in your story. Gale: Ah, yes. Karsus Karsus was perhaps the most powerful wizard that ever lived. The child-who-would-be-a-god, the elves called him. And he tried. With a spell of his own devising he endeavoured to usurp in one fell swoop the power of the goddess of magic.  Mystryl, she was called then. Imagine what it must have felt like. To be a god. To know yourself to be untouchable. To be mistaken. As Karsus aimed his spell at her she began to unravel, and with her, the entire Weave. Too late did he realize what he had unleashed. It would have been the end of everything had not Mystryl sacrificed herself.  Gale: The goddess of magic is all magic. By dying, the entire weave was lost, and the spell that challenged a god failed. It was the end of Mystryl, the end of Karsus, and the end of an entire civilization. As the child-who-would-be-a-god was turned to stone, his empire came crashing down around him. The floating cities of Netheril were no more. An event that came to be known as Karsus’ folly.

which is in accordance with the lore:

Unfortunately, his choice was a terrible mistake, for one of the responsibilities of the deity of magic was to regulate the flow of magic to and from all beings, spells, and magic items in the world. Lacking the ability to do so properly, magic surged and fluctuated. With her last remaining bit of power, Mystryl sacrificed herself to block Karsus's access to the Weave, causing all magic to fail. The flying cities of Netheril plummeted to the earth. The severing of the link also killed Karsus and transformed him into stone, and the last thing he saw was his entire civilization being destroyed because of his actions. This was to be known as Karsus's Folly. The stone form of Karsus eventually landed in a part of the High Forest, now called the Dire Wood. The city of Karse was built around its base. Karsus was never accepted as a petitioner by any god, nor did he go to the Fugue Plane when he died. Instead, his soul was bound to the Material Plane. Those with experience in pact magic could call up his vestige, where he appeared as a giant blood-red boulder, like the one found in the High Forest where his petrified form landed. Blood burbles up from the top of the stone, trickling down the side facing the summoner, pooling at the base. When he spoke, the pool fountained upwards, its height varying on the volume of his voice.

the netherese orb then seemed to have a immediate visible physical effect on gale, in addition to the ones that carried to the full release version of the game.

so putting these clues together, i think it's safe to say that the orb caused gale in early access to be afflicted with some form of corrupted petrification, which makes sense given that it's a piece of magic unleashed during karsus's folly.

at that point, this corruption seemed to be affecting his left arm the most, perhaps either from opening the book containing the netherese magic with it, or trying to shield himself with it - but that's just speculation on my part.

so what did the early access set up in terms of curing gale from his affliction?

gale in early access showed a great interest in the astral plane, especially in the absence of time there. he has several banters with lae'zel, which are still in the game now and showing his vested interest in the astral plane as well as any knowledge or insight lae'zel might offer on it:

Gale asks Lae'zel about the Astral Plane. Has she been there? Gale: Tell me, Lae'zel, what is it like on the Astral Plane? Your home realm intrigues me. Lae'zel: Githyanki lay their eggs on other planes. They cannot mature in the Astral. Lae'zel: I will only be welcomed once I obtain a mind flayer's head.

lae'zel notices gale's interest and initiates a banter of her own:

Lae'zel asks Gale what his interest is in the Astral plane, and he equivocates Lae'zel: Tell me, Gale: what is your interest in the Astral Plane? Gale: Time. Or rather: the absence of it. In the Astral Plane, everything is eternal. Lae'zel: It will be my home soon enough, should Vlaakith will it.

in addition to these banters, which clearly show gale's interest in the astral plane - which now in the full release seems merely academic - hinted at another solution to ridding himself of the orb.

what points to that quite conclusively is gale's dialogue when he reveals the truth about the orb to the protagonist.

this reveal differs quite significantly from the full release version. most notably, the protagonist was able to ask him about his own ideas for a what might be able to cure him from the orb.

gale had something very interesting to say to that question:

Player: What would permanently rid you of the orb? Gale: The orb was kept safe and inert in a pocket of Astral Plane, suspended in time. If I can somehow manage to expel it from my body while in the Astral Plane, it will be rendered inert again. Alternatively, I could learn to control it’s chaotic magic, that is; to succeed where I failed before. But without Mystra’s favour, I don’t see how that may come to pass. Of course there could be different answers as well. Faerun brims with more magic than any one wizard could fathom, let alone comprehend. Who knows what outlandish solutions may yet present themselves?

so what does this all mean?

in conclusion, i believe originally there were either more ways to cure gale from the orb - or maybe even in a different manner entirely - than there are in the full release version of the game (begging mystra to remove it, ascension, or accepting/keeping the orb).

perhaps even one that would circumvent having to beg mystra for forgiveness entirely, without gale having to sacrifice his mortality to do so.

i think these banters and lines of dialogue show that the astral plane, which would have rendered the orb inert and stopped the corrupted petrification of his body, would have played a bigger role in gale's quest.

[misstycloud]

Friend's yandere brother HC

• Your friend had a younger brother who is just sooo adorable! With his fiery red hair and cute dark eyes. He was the perfect example of that shy little sibling everyone fawned over. Well, everyone except your friend that is. She only thinks he's annoying and couldn't be bothered with him.

• You on the other hand thinks he's a nice kid who deserves some attention. Especially since the bullying is getting more frequent with time. Cyrus has always been smaller than other boys his age, which has made him the ideal target for mean kids. There were more times than one where you remembered defending him when you were young.

• Because of his smaller physique, Cyrus grew up with quite many insecurities. Those only grew worse the older he got. The other boys became tall, while he remained short. The other boys gained the ability to increase their muscle mass, whereas he was scrawny and weak. They were confident and he was shy and awkward. They aged and became older, Cyrus stayed the same. They managed to get the girls they liked. Cyrus did not.

• The only one he felt he could confide in was you. You, who was his older sister's best friend since kindergarten. You where his safe space, away from all the bad and pain. His sister couldn't think less of his existence and his parents weren't much better. The only one really paying any greater attention to him was you.

• And for that he was eternally grateful. Vey grateful.

It wasn't his fault. He hadn't meant to fall for you so hard. So deeply. But how could he not? Not when you were always there for him, letting him cry on your shoulder when he was feeling down and praising him when he did something good. You were like an angel who descended to earth. So perfect. So good.

• The worst time came when his stupid parents convinced themselves it would be best if he attended some boarding school far north from where you lived. He begged his parents to let him stay, and cried to the point he was sure he'd lost the ability to conjure tears. But nothing worked and they did not change their mind one inch. It'd be easier to move a boulder with your bare hands.

• It felt like he would go under the moment he left you. If he was so far away, how would he be able to see you? He wouldn't.

• God, how he hated that awful school. He wondered if his parents had put any thought into it at all, or if they just wanted to get rid of him like his sister. The adults there were incredibly strict and would rather die than allow any of the students to be happy, that's what it felt like most of the time. The other students weren't much better though, perhaps even wore in some aspects.

• They teased and picked on him. It wasn't rare to find his books drenched in the school's fountain, or his clothes gone after a P.E lesson. It was all hell which he couldn't escape from. He had no one. He tried consulting one of the teachers for help but they dismissed him and said that the others surely didn't mean any harm by it. That they were just playing around. but Cyrus had noticed the way they smirked as they disregarded his pleas when they just so happened to pass by.

• That was when he lost hope and everything turned grey, dark and cold. Everything except you of course. You were still his closest (only) friend and he wouldn't replace you for anything in the entire world. During his time away and all those lonely night he spent in his dorm, he thought of you. Your warmth, your voice, your smile. He loves all of you.

• In order to cure some of the loneliness, Cyrus wrote multiple diaries and notes relating to you. It helped him get through those hellish years without seeing you. He remembered an incident from his first year, one of the bullies had gotten their hand on his diary and read all of the disturbing romantic poems about you. He eventually got his diary back but at the cost of the harassment getting even worse. They called him a weirdo, a freak. A crazy obsessed creep.

• You were honestly a bit sad when Cyrus went away. While you weren't particularly close, you still liked him and enjoyed his company. Years passed and you eventually began to forget about the little boy who used to cling to you whenever he could. He didn't forget you.

• You sure got quite the surprise when an unfamiliar man turned up at your doorstep, asking how you were and if he could come in. Not being able to recignise the face of the person in front of you, you inquired about his identity.

"Huh? (Yn), it's me." He said in a confused manner.

"Uh, sorry I have no clue who you are, sir." You discreetly tried to back away, not liking how close this man was to you.

"it's me, Cyrus."

".......what..?"

• Yeah, it was a real surprise all right. The man currently in front of you looked nothing alike the boy you remembered. No, this man was obtusely tall; nearly reaching the top of your door. His hair wasn't red, it was black. He told you he had dyed it recently. He had matured and toned muscle was clearly visible from the tight fitted shirt he wore.

• Now that you recognised who he was, you invited him in. Exited to see him again. What had happened during these past years? What was boarding school like? Things like that. Cyrus chuckled at your enthusiasm. He answered all your questions truthfully no he didn't and told you about things he'd achieved, like all the sports games he's won, how he goes to the gym all the time and how good his grades were.

• In the beginning you were happy to see him, though the feeling vanished the more you spoke with him. You expressed joy at his success, but it had turned into bragging. Something you were not fond of. Eventually you had enough and politely kicked him out, saying you were busy and had things to do.

• Cyrus stood outside the door, silent at the fact you asked him to leave so quickly. This wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to be impressed with him, all his achievements. His appearance mot of all. Just look at him, he's the total opposite compared to his younger self. Now he's strong, tall and confident. Shouldn't you fall for him? What was he going to do now that it didn't work? Maybe he should try again some other time, you said you were busy after all. He knew you weren't.

• He needed to come up with a new plan. One that would make sure you fall in love with him too. Otherwise he'll be forced to do something drastic.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Golden (OT4)

The winner of one yeehawgust poll was: Fools Gold

The entrance to the trail is innocuous. The normal sign posts, the wooden information board with faded tips for identifying rattlesnakes and avoiding heat stroke that half the hikers never even read. 

“Ready?” Duck pulls his hat lower over his eyes against the evening sun. 

“Indeed.” Indrid adjusts his red sunglasses; they’re the same ones he wore when Duck first found him in the mountains, the only part of his wardrobe he hasn’t updated to match this century. 

As they cross from the parking lot onto the trail proper, a massive, shaggy-furred dog lopes toward them, boofing happily.

“Hey Sass” Duck kneels, “don’t suppose the big fella is right behind you?”

The dog wanders over to the nearest shade structure, sniffing around the water fountain. If Barclay were coming down that trail, Sass would be doing what he always does; running back and forth between his owner and the people he’s excited to see. 

“I’ll radio Juno and ask her to come get him.” He pulls out his walkie talkie as Indrid pours some water into Sass’s waiting mouth, “then we better get goin’. We’re burnin’ daylight.”

—---------------------------------------------------------

If Sass weren’t so fucking cute, Barclay would be really, really pissed at him for running off and leaving him behind. But he knows the big pile of fluff didn’t mean to; dogs never seem to get as discombobulated by this place as humans. He thought Barclay would keep up like he always did. 

The sun peeks around the pile of rocks he’s using for shade and he scoots across the sandy dirt until he’s behind another boulder. He knows his friends will find him. They always find each other. He just wishes he knew where he was. 

Or when he was. 

He has no one to blame but himself; they know that whatever weirdness surrounds this portion of the Superstition Mountains, it has the potential to grow and shrink without warning. That’s why Duck insists they all carry survival backpacks with them if they’re within a mile of the last known boundary.  Barclay came out looking for Pine Nuts–he loves making brittle with them to give as presents. He went to his usual gathering area, Sass trotting along with him and snuffling the brush. 

Then he turned and realized the way back wasn’t how it was supposed to be. The fucking mountains had swallowed him up. 

He sips some water and waits, listening for familiar bootfalls. Aubrey’s in Phoenix performing, and Dani is with her, which means Indrid and Duck are probably the ones who’ll find him. 

Feet shuffle in the dry earth and he stands, intending to wave down whoever it is in hopes they aren’t lost or, better yet, are looking for him. 

The man who’s just rounded the corner is dust-covered and sunburnt, and Barclay’s heart sinks a little. 

“You okay?” He steps forward as nonthreateningly as he can; he’s a big guy with, “the air of a mountain man” to him, according to Indrid, and that can freak people out if they’re surprised by him. 

The man doesn’t seem to see him, keeps walking past, close enough that Barclay can see he’s in the remnants of a suit.

(Who the fuck wears a suit out here?)

“Hey man, do you need water? I’ve got plenty.” He touches the stranger’s shoulder. 

“Shit!” The man backs away in a hurry, not seeing the rock behind him until he trips over it and falls to the ground. 

“Hey, hey it’s okay.” Barclay holds his hands up, “I’m not gonna hurt you. I didn’t mean to freak you out you just…you weren’t responding.”

“I didn’t think you were real. I’ve seen so many mirages lately I just gave up believing anything promising was really there.”

“Pretty sure mirages can’t talk. Or carry granola bars.” He holds one out, “I’m Barclay.”

The shiny green package is cautiously taken from his hand, “I’m Special Agent Joseph Stern.”

“That explains the suit.”

A bitter, cracked laugh, “I was supposed to be out here an hour looking over a site. Not a fucking month.” He slumps down in the shade with the offered water bottle. Looks at Barclay’s boots, then slowly up the rest of him. Were a hot guy giving him a once over in any other context, Barclay would be into it, but this one seems to only be adding to the panic in those blue eyes. 

“It has been just a month, right?”

“Since?”

“Barclay? That you buddy?” 

“It’s me, Duck! I’m by the boulder that kinda looks like a bear eating a cactus.”

“The what now?”

“This one, my sweet.” Indrid, in denim shorts and a white tank top, rounds the rocks first, “it really does look like that.”

“If you say so.” Duck follows behind his boyfriend. He’s still in his park ranger uniform, and breaks into a smile when he sees Barclay. 

“I so fucking glad to see you guys.” Barclay lets Indrid wrap him in a hug, laughing when he kisses him, “can’t believe Duck let you come out with so little sun proofing. 

“I consider my outfit an indication of my faith that we would locate you quickly and that Duck will guide us home safely. Also, I am wearing an entire bottle of sunscreen.” He notices Joseph, “my apologies, I did not realize you had found someone else.”

“I…I’m Special Agent Joseph Stern. FBI.” He sounds almost distracted, eyes flicking between Indrid’s legs and Barclay’s face. 

“You sure about that? You look pretty rough, sun can really do a number on you” Duck taps his temple.

“Yes I’m sure! I’m lost, not insane. Look, here, I’ll prove it.” He hands Duck a battered ID badge. 

Duck whistles, “That’s the real deal, sorry for…not…aw fuck.” He turns the ID so Indrid and Barclay can see it as he says, “I hate to ask this, agent Stern but, uh, how long after gettin’ that did you come out here.”

“Three years.” Joseph’s face is hanging onto calm by a thread. 

“Hoo-kay.” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “so, uh, here’s the good news: you ain’t gonna be stuck out here any more. Bad news is you’re a long, long fuckin ways from 1972.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Given what must be going on in his brain right now, Joseph is holding it together pretty well. 

He’s also holding Barclay’s arm hard enough it’s starting to bruise. 

Duck can’t blame him; people go to pieces after being lost in the normal parts of this desert and without an existential crisis on top of that. 

Indrid and Barclay are doing their best to bring the agent up to date on the last fifty-odd years, ranging from the end of the Cold War (“oh, thank the lord”), to cell phones (“incredible”), to the fact the Cubs actually won the world series (this got a gasp of awe).

He’ll join in the conversation once they get to the parking lot. Right now, he has to focus. They’re on the Twin Canyons trail, the south end. He knows that route, knows what the path ahead of them should look like. The desert flickers a moment, the view now subtly different with no trail in sight. 

That ain’t it. I ain’t gonna even notice it. This is the south end of Twin Pines, nothin’ weird at all

The trail is back how it usually is. 

His friends have speculated on why the mountains have never been able to suck him in and turn him around; Aubrey thinks it might be magic, Ned worries it’s luck that’s bound to run out. Duck’s pretty sure he’s just too damn stubborn to let some weird-ass wormhole time and space bullshit tell him he’s not on the trail he thinks he is. 

All the same, when they step onto pavement, his shoulders relax a hair. 

“This is us.” He beeps the lock on the Jeep, Barclay taking shotgun (he gets motion sick) and Indrid climbing into the back with Joseph.

“Tell me, agent.” Indrid buckles in, “what led you into the mountains?”

“Assuming it’s not, like, classified. We’re trying to figure out if why you’re there makes a difference in getting lost in the anomaly.” Barclay adds.

“I was looking into missing person’s cases. There’d been three groups that had just disappeared, all in the span of a month, and that was on top of a history of disappearances in the area overall. Two of the three were looking for the Cold Treasure. Is that still a story around here?”

Indrid sighs, “Indeed. Now and then it fades from the greater public memory, only to be reignited by some television show or other. I was never even convinced there was something in those damned boxes. I think someone managed to trick us, but my father and brother were not sold on the idea. You likely heard Alistair Cold and his sons were never seen again, yes?”

“That’s how the story goes.”

Duck sees Indrid smile in the rearview mirror, “That is not entirely true. I am seen often, though I may not have been had a certain, intrepid civil servant not found me.”

“More like stepped on you, you were passed out on the red rock trail.”

“My point stands.” Indrid blows him a kiss. 

“You…you’re…” Joseph sounds like he’s about to have a revelation or a full-on breakdown.

“The outlaw Indrid Cold, in the flesh. I know, you are shocked by my youthful appearance.”

“You don’t look a day over a hundred.” There’s a weak laugh and Duck’s heart warms at corniness of the joke. 

Indrid had looked much closer to his grand total of 145 years of age when Duck found him, what with the being near death and all. He’d been in the desert, by his count, 50 days, having fled after his brother tried to murder him in his sleep to increase his cut of the loot. 

“All that is to say, Joseph, that should you want to talk with someone who has dealt with much the same leap forward as yourself, I am glad to.”

“Thank you.” There’s an audible gurgle from the backseat, “I, I hate to cause more trouble, but is there any chance we get something to eat?”

“Way ahead of you.” Duck pulls into the Burger King on the edge of town and waits patiently at the menu sign for Joseph to choose his first meal of the 21st century. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I can’t thank you enough.” Joseph finishes setting up the sofa-bed in Barclay’s small living room. 

“Seriously, Joseph, it’s not a big deal. I’d do the same for anyone we fished outta the anomaly.” 

Barclays face, that gorgeous, bearded face, parts in a smile that would make Joseph believe just about anything he said. Except, when they stopped at Amnesty Lodge, Barclay’s work and clearly the headquarters of the group of rescuers, the conversations he overheard suggested it wasn’t common for one of the members of the Pine Guard to offer their couch to a rescuee. 

Maybe Barclay thinks he’s special. Maybe he likes him. It feels like ages since anyone liked him for him, rather than what he could do. 

“Is Mr.Cold, um, I mean, is Indrid coming back tonight?” He has approximately six hundred questions he’d like to ask before he no longer has the chance to interview an time-traveling, 1880s outlaw. 

“Nah, he lives with Duck.”

“Oh.” He nods, smiles to show he’s hip, “free love?”

Barclay chokes on his tea, startling Sass from his dog bed, then quickly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “Sorry, sorry, uh, I mean kinda? We don’t really call it that anymore. But yeah, Indrid is both my and Duck’s boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend.” He repeats, sitting down on his temporary bed, “it’s…its funny. To hear another man say that word. Not bad!” he turns, hurriedly, “just…is it really allowed now?”

“Fuck of a lot more than it was when you got lost. There are still some really fucking bigoted people and places out there but, like, even in a small town like this, I can be out. Aubrey and Dani can be out as girlfriends. Stuff like that.”

Joseph closes his eyes and digs his nails into his palms, “I’m like that too.”

There’s no immediate reply, which terrifies him. Then a weight settles next to him on the bed and Barclay takes one of his hands.

“Kinda figured. From what your face did when you saw Indrid kiss me. And, like, that’s for sure gonna be different in 2024. But you don’t have to figure out everything in one night, or remake yourself in one. You’ve got time. You’ll be okay.”

Joseph looks down at their joined hands and believes, for the first time since he got lost, that things might just work out. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mercifully, libraries are more or less the same as he remembers them. No more card catalogs or microfiche (“unless you need to look at the newspaper records, in which case I’m happy to get them for you” offered the woman at the reference desk). But he can still find books on every subject he needs, and leaves with a canvas bag stuffed full of them.

When he gets back to Barclay’s place, after patting Sass on the head he sets the bag next to a smaller one of clothes from Goodwill. He bought several he’s excited about, but steps back into the summer heat in a borrowed t-shirt and gym shorts; he’s not putting anything on until it’s washed, and Barclay said he was taking his laundry to the mat tonight anyway. 

The state park is the main tourist draw, and a corner of town dedicated to faux-western theming has sprung up in response. Joseph wanders through it, no goal but to take in the sights. He knows that soon, the lack of direction will tie him in knots, but there’s no harm in a day or two to recover.

As he passes a shooting gallery in the arcade, there’s a flash of silver hair. Indrid is at the counter, knocking down targets as kids with sticky lollipops and precarious ice cream cones dart around between the games and their exhausted parents. 

Joseph positions himself by the soda fountain for a better view. Indrid doesn’t miss a target; yesterday, he seemed to always be moving, like a moth in the night air. Here, he’s calm and measured, hands steady and arms…

Christ the man has a lot of tattoos. Joseph wonders how much of his body they cover, and how it would feel to trace the shapes of them with his fingers. 

“Care to play a round?” Indrid lowers the fake rifle, shooting him a smile. 

“Sure.” He takes up a spot to Indrid’s left as the former outlaw hands the bored teenager behind the counter some bills. When the little mechanical targets of coyotes and jackrabbits begin moving, he lets his training take over. 

Indrid knocks down all but one. Joseph knocks down all them, 

“Well done, agent.” Indrid inclines his head towards the soda fountain, “allow me to buy you a victory phosphate?”

Joseph accepts, and follows Indrid into the air-conditioned, echoey building. His phosphate–soda water, syrup, and ice cream–is coffee flavored, while Indrid opts for strawberry. 

They sit at a table out on the wooden porch, watching the families pass by. 

“How are you doing so far?”

“Okay. It’s overwhelming. In a lot of ways. So many things are different. It’s exciting half the time and completely fucking terrifying the rest.”

Indrid laughs, “Yes, that sums it up well. I swung wildly between wanting to indulge in every luxury of modern life and needing to lie very still in the dark and quiet of Duck’s guest room.”

He smiles, sheepish, “I mean, compared to you, what I’m dealing with is child's play.”

“I suppose, but there’s no need to compare woes. We have both gone through a very drastic change thanks to the anomaly; that is enough.” He sips his drink, fidgets with the gold rock on his necklace. There’d been the same kind on the bracelet Barclay put on this morning. And a pin of one on Duck’s hat-band.

“That’s fools gold, right?” 

“Yes. Apparently when Duck found me, I babbled to him all the way to the car about how it ‘was all fools gold.’ He brought me this from a rock shop a few months later. It was the first gift he gave me, the first time he told me that some mundane element of daily life reminded him of me. I’ve worn it ever since.”

Joseph smiles but looks away; the happiness of the moment seems too intimate, like he’s intruding on it. 

Indrid’s hand settles on his forearm, “Shall we finish these while we stroll? There’s a reptile house that claims to have the worlds largest Gila Monster. Duck insists it’s a painted Chuckwalla, but regardless it is fascinating. 

“I’d love to.” He stands, following Indrid down the stairs and repeating the words, “this is not a date” in his mind until they lose all meaning. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Barclay hates being sick for a lot of reasons, but one is that it’s so fucking boring. He can’t do anything, and nothing on T.V is good enough, or trashy enough, to hold his attention. 

The front door opens and Joseph hurries, shopping bags in both hands and sweat dripping down his chest. The agent has discovered he likes V-necks and tank-tops in the summer. Barclay has discovered the sight of Joseph Stern in tight, white shirt and navy shorts is masturbation fodder for a week. 

“Okay, I got everything I could think of to help with a cold. What would you like? There’s soup, saltines, ginger ale, gatorade, and if you want something more substantial I can make kimchi fried rice. Did you know they have kimchi just in regular grocery stores now? Dad had to make ours”

Rustling bags from the kitchen, the flick of a receipt being tucked into a folder; Joseph insists on keeping track of how much he buys with Barclay’s card, telling him he’ll pay him back once he has his job and his status of being legally dead sorted out.

“Just gatorade for now, babe.”

“What was that?” Joseph’s head pokes around the fridge.

“Bud. Some gatorade, bud?” Jesus, Joseph has only been in the house three weeks and Barclay is already tongue-tied. 

Joseph brings a bottle for each of them, gets on his knees to study the shelf of DVDs when Barclay suggests he pick something.

“They…they made Lord of the Rings into a movie!”

There goes his boredom problem. 

“Three movies.”

Joseph holds the DVD to his chest, delighted. 

“Let me go change into something less sweaty.”

Barclay would let him crawl under his blanket soaking wet if he asked. All the same, he smiles when Joseph comes down in sleep shorts and his “Bigfoot is my boyfriend” shirt Duck bought him as a joke after he admitted his fixation with the monster. The agent sits next to him on the couch. By the second disk, his feet are in Barclay’s lap. And by the time he hops back onto the couch after putting in The Two Towers, Joseph doesn’t bother keeping any space between them at all. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------

“Not sure how I feel about the music I listened to in college being on the ‘classic’ station.” Joseph steps from the Jeep into the grim heat of the Phoenix parking lot, slipping on his sunglasses. 

“You think you feel weird, they’re doin’ the same stuff with my high school favorites, and I ain’t even got the excuse of jumpin forward in time. I’m just old.”

“You’re just experienced.” Joseph smirks. It’s the line Duck uses whenever Indrid jokes about his own age, and Duck likes hearing his tired joke on Joe’s tongue. 

“My conference is done at 6. You want me to come back for you then?” 

Joe shakes his head, “I have no idea how long this will take. Aubrey showed me how to use an Uber on my phone, I’ll get one and go to the hotel when I’m done.”

“Works for me. See you tonight, slick.” He winks as Joe shuts the door, enjoying the way he blushes in reply. 

Duck’s in Phoenix for a forestry conference, representing Lost Dutchman State Park, and as luck would have it, the week before Joe was finally able to get through to the right person at the FBI. Long story short, he agreed to a DNA and fingerprint test to confirm his identity. 

The conference goes well, and he kills an hour after shooting the shit with some folks he knew from his forestry program back in school. Gets to the Radisson, unwinds with some mindless HG-TV while he waits for Joe to text him. 

Joe doesn’t get to the room until 10, lays down on the opposite bed with muffled sounds of annoyance.  

“That don’t sound good.”

The agent turns his head, cheek to patterned comforter, “They believe me, but since I was legally dead my pension went to my parents, and they refuse to consider anything resembling back-pay. They’re willing to give me a lump sum of twenty grand and won’t lock me in an observation facility provided I agree to not go public with my experience.”

“You take ‘em up on it?”

“Didn’t feel like I had a choice. Besides, even if I can’t go public, I can still help the rest of you get people out. I can maybe even solve some missing person’s cases. Bring families closure, even. I just won’t be doing it as a federal agent.”

Duck watches him a moment, “somethin else happened.”

Joe rolls onto his back, staring at the stucco, “I found out how long they looked for me. I was their top agent. I was supposed to be invaluable, they always said that, always made that the reason I had to give up everything for my work. Two weeks. They gave up on me after two weeks. I know, I know that sounds like a lot but…I just thought I was worth more than that. You know?” 

Duck moves from one bed to the other, “Gonna be honest slick, if you went missing on my watch, I’d do anythin’ I could to get you back.”

“You do that anyway with the Pine Guard.”

“Suppose so. But, uh, let’s just say I’d put even more into it than I usually do. Wouldn’t be able to give up.”

Joe looks up at him, curious, “Why not?”

Duck leans down and kisses him. There’s mint on his tongue from the wintergreen lifesavers he’s always slipping into his mouth, and he makes a surprised noise that’s so charming Duck can’t help but kiss him just to hear it again. 

“Duck I, do you really-”

“Yeah, slick, I do. ‘Drid too, though I’m bettin you’re sharp enough to notice him eye-fuckin you every time you enter a room. And Barclay’s so goddamn into you he talks like you two been datin’ for four months instead of just livin together.”

“I guess we do act like a couple a lot of the time…”

“Point is, I’m part of a three man fan-club, and I don’t give a single flyin’ fuck what the FBI thinks your worth. Cause it’s more than gold to me.” He cups Joe’s cheek, “if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine by me. But it seemed to me now was a real good time to show you how fuckin glad I am that you found your way into my chunk of history.”

Joe’s eyes drag up his body, smile never dimming, “I think, Mr. Newton, the way I feel can be best expressed if you’d come all the way down here. Ideally with your shirt off.”

“Don’t gotta ask me twice. But, uh, gimme just a sec, gotta text ‘Drid and tell ‘im goodnight.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

Indrid smirks, setting his phone back on the nightstand as Barclay cuddles up to him. 

“Good news?”

“Wonderful.” He takes Barclay’s hand and kisses it, “the kind that means that tomorrow, you and I need to go get a shiny, new piece of fools gold.”

[brucenorris007]

Zero

Summary: In a world literally on fire, a robot encounters a hedgehog wearing boots half a size too big. The meeting becomes a catalyst that breaks the cycle Zero's been caught in.

1430 words

(For extra context, scroll down to previous post before reading.)

Zero trudged through the city, optics scanning at regular intervals for any indication of magmaggots or fried chicken. The hours he could safely operate at the peak of day grew shorter as coolant became harder to find. He could make do with functioning at night for a while, and he’d done more with less, but he’d have to move on soon. Traveling between the ruins of civilization without adequate supplies posed too great a risk.

Zero couldn’t spend the day in standby mode out in the open, and he couldn’t defend himself all hours of the day if his components were overheating. His internal fans hadn’t been up to the task for decades.

Options limited, he ventured into the depths of the city, returning to the dilapidated structure that’d once been a multi-story mall. He’d investigated it once already, but he’d been working quickly and thus less thorough than he would have been otherwise. Odds that he’d overlooked something were marginally better than that he’d miraculously stumble across an auto repair shop.

He briefly inspected the integrity of what remained of the entrance–the skeleton of a revolving door, chunks of thick glass scattered outward on the pavement, steel warped and several precarious cracks in the ceiling–before carefully making his way inside.

He accessed his RAM, called up the snapshot of a degraded mall map from his last venture. The details of the mall’s contents were spotty, but it provided a grasp of the building’s layout at least, so he wouldn’t waste time going over locations he’d already searched.

He’d discovered a hardware store in the southeast sector of the second floor; while he scoured over the lawn mowers and chainsaws, his receptors registered heavy footfalls from somewhere beneath him. He had a good guess as to the cause. . .

“AAAAH!”

. . .he was somewhat less certain as to the source of the screaming that accompanied them.

After stashing what meager supplies he’d found, he left the hardware store and treaded slowly to the banister overlooking the main lobby.

Below, as he suspected, a cindaruma lumbered and lurched, hoisting and hurling molten rock as it went.

“C’mon, c’mon!”

And its target was a young, scrambling hedgehog with bright fur and quills. One who, for some reason, kept waving his hands out in front of him and over his head as he ran. If his objective was improved aerodynamics, his methods were highly counterproductive. All that racket wasn’t doing him any favors, either.

Rmbl.

It only attracted more creatures; a second cindaruma grunted and crawled up out of the ground, embers and smoke marking the spot it had spawned from.

Worse, it was the blue variant; significantly hotter and thus more lethal.

Zero ran through numerous calculations. He prioritized evasive maneuvers in the city and an offensive defense in the wastelands; he didn’t carry ammunition with him when he was gathering resources. Had he been dealing with any other monster, he could have easily interfered; cindaruma boasted an obnoxiously sturdy rock armor, though.

He’d just about resigned himself to jumping down and improvising when the hedgehog’s hand emitted a strange glow; one of the fixtures of what might have once been a fountain in the lobby teetered and smashed down against the blue cindaruma’s shoulder. The sudden impact caused it to drop the fiery boulder it’d been about to throw.

Determining that the kid would somehow manage for a moment, Zero ducked back into the hardware store.

When he returned and leapt over the banister, it was with a roaring chainsaw in each hand.

The monsters turned their attention to the new, louder and larger target Zero presented.

He twisted his frame, aiming for the red cindaruma’s head.

VRR-R-R-GK-GK!

He caught its shoulder instead; the saw in his left hand sparked and whined. Stuttered after cutting two inches into the rock before stopping short.

He pivoted upon landing and drove the other chainsaw through the glowing red gap in the armor around its right knee.

The monster groaned.

Toppled down and crashed against the floor.

Zero didn’t wait to see how the blue variant would respond.

“Run.”

“Who-wha–? Wait, I gotta–!”

He grabbed the hedgehog’s arm; turned west toward the entrance he’d used to get into the mall.

“Not a suggestion.”

Zero pulled the boy along until he started running on his own.

The blue cindaruma’s thunderous footfalls echoed behind them, distance shrinking every moment.

The boy suddenly loosed the sort of whooping cough that rattled the chest. His pace faltered.

A sharp spike in heat behind them.

Zero dove, snatching the hedgehog under his arm and throwing himself to one side.

Flaming molten rocks careened past them; glass melted on contact. The fiery missiles exploded, leaving craters behind in the building’s cement foundation.

The cindaruma loomed over them, lunging with one hand outstretched.

Whack.

PSSSH.

A bottle of precious coolant exploded against the monster’s face.

The liquid evaporated instantly; steam sizzled and covered it from head to toe.

Their pursuer roared furiously.

Kid still in hand, Zero engaged his afterburners.

He raced through the lobby.

Heard the beast give chase.

Calculated how much of a lead he had.

Broke through the warped steel frame of the door with a loud

CLANG.

Finally braked and turned his optics back.

Watched the cindaruma charge at him–

Crack.

Just as structural integrity of the entrance failed. Zero retreated further as the initial collapse gave way to more.

Twenty-four seconds later, the rumbling stopped; and his opponent buried, flame suffocated under the rubble.

“Whoa.”

His passenger muttered from under his arm. Zero deposited him on the ground and scanned the area.

“Um, than–”

“Do not stay here. The noise will attract charmanders soon.”

The hedgehog blinked. Having provided sufficient warning, Zero turned and began his circuitous route back to his base.

“Char–? Hey, wait up!”

Zero did not wait up. He heard the kid tailing him regardless.

– – – – –

“So, uh, what’s your name?” 

“. . . Designation: Zero.”

“Oh! Uh, my name is Silver. I”

“You are stupidly reckless.”

“. . . I-I need to be able to fight them.”

“. . .”

“If I can’t handle his minions, I won’t stand a chance against Iblis.”

“. . .”

“W-well, somebody has to beat him! And no one can do what I can!”

“Run around screaming and flailing?”

“Mrrr. . . I just need practice. My psychokinesis works most of the time, it’s just hard to concentrate in a fight.”

“. . .”

“Wh-what?”

“Follow me.”

– – – – –

After a bit over an hour and some largely one-sided conversation

(“Charmander. . . is that what you call the fragments of Iblis?”

“Copyright has long expired.”

“Copy-what?”)

They arrived at Zero’s base. More of a temporary storage and hideout than anything, the nearest to furnishing were his ammo stock, spare coolant and the few other things he could carry without excessively burdening himself. Subterranean, as all his bases were, for the cooling effect of being underground.

Ironic that a day had come when Zero actively sought out basements.

“Conjecture: You require equipment.”

Silver tilted his head; somehow, gravity seemed to have no effect on whether or not his quills remained erect on his head.

“What sort of equipment?”

“You experience lapses in control of your psychokinesis under duress, correct?”

Silver frowned; lowered his eyes and gave a jerking nod.

Zero turned to his stash.

“Surmise that streamlining the process of channeling psychic energy will expedite your progress on the learning curve,” he said, digging through his things. “A pair of gauntlets would be appropriate.”

Silver already channeled his psychokinetic powers through his hands, after all.

“Wait,” Silver said, head popping back up with wide eyes. “You can help me?”

“Statistically probable.”

The kid’s face nearly glowed. Zero retrieved a worn yet well-kept tablet and turned it on; his CPU was still efficient, but an external backup was always prudent.

And not solely for practicality.

Zero did not possess any great inherent kindness. He couldn’t articulate precisely why he felt inclined to aid Silver in his frankly foolhardy desire to battle the Flames of Disaster.

A prompt for an administrator name and password blinked onto the tablet’s screen.

Perhaps Zero felt moved to do something of more significance than surviving.

He typed into the onscreen keyboard; matching entries for both prompts.

In the deepest corners of his motherboard, Zero might confess that it had to do with attempting to compensate for past wrongs; the boy being a hedgehog of all things. . .

Zero Michigan Three Nine Alpha

He tapped enter.

The prompts fell away, and a prerecorded audio sample of a slightly sultry, nostalgic voice greeted him.

“Welcome back, Omega.”

@generic-sonic-fan

[alexesguerra]

The Fountain Tarot: Illustrated Deck and Guidebook The Fountain Tarot: Illustrated Deck and Guidebook Cards – October 10, 2017 by Jason Gruhl (Author), Jonathan Saiz (Illustrator), Andi Todaro (Designer) --Brand New-- The Fountain Tarot: Illustrated Deck and Guidebook includes: • 79 silver-gilded cards with original oil paintings and die-cut rounded corners • 112-page guidebook • Holographic shimmer box with magnetic-closure and lifting ribbon The Fountain Tarot is a bold re-envisioning of the classic tarot deck, bringing the traditional archetypes and symbology of tarot into a contemporary context. This boxed set features lush, ethereal paintings by artist Jonathan Saiz, rainbow holographic packaging by designer Andi Todaro, and an intimate guidebook by writer Jason Gruhl that teaches you how to read the cards and how to use them as a tool for introspection, empowerment, and connection. The Fountain is the unchanging, unnamable force of which everything and nothing are a part. Whether you're selecting a card to set the tone for your day, invigorate creative energy, or navigate a specific question, The Fountain Tarot helps you to unlock your deepest longings and greatest potential. Review “When A. E. Waite conceived of his deck with Pamela Colman Smith in the early 1900s, what he did is what the creators of The Fountain are doing today, over 100 years later. The Fountain imagery both simultaneously exhibits a timeless quality and also expresses where we are today in our spiritual journey as a global society.” —Benebell Wenn, Author of The Tao of Craft, and The Holistic Tarot (North Atlantic Books) “First conceived as a collaborative art piece by artist Jonathan Saiz, author Jason Gruhl, and designer Andi Todaro, these 79 paintings with shimmery silver-gilded edges sing with a kind of hyper-modern cosmic intelligence. The mini guidebook interweaves classic tarot themes with sacred geometry, art, psychology and technology. All in all? It’s a silvery, self-reflective, nuanced delight.”— WildUnknown.com "So lush and gorgeous. Every card feels like a refreshing spring rain, inviting you to step inside and dip yourself in its secrets. From the shiny, metallic box, to the beautiful, geometric cardbacks, to each thoughtfully-rendered painting, The Fountain Tarot has seduced me hook, line and sinker.” —twosidestarot.com “Creat[es] an atmosphere that feels timeless and modern at the same time, as though the cards can truly tell the future by calling upon some kind of evolutionary, dawns-of time understanding that exists within all of us, and all around us…” — Little Red Tarot UK, Beth Maiden About the Author JONATHAN SAIZ's paintings and sculptures are in private and commercial collections worldwide and are exhibited in the US and the UK. His last series, ALKAHEST, was created during eight hermetic months on the Greek island of Mykonos. A recent commission from the Denver Museum of Nature and Science allowed him to explore his interest in the shrouded and mysterious side of history, studying ancient Roman frescoes and scarab beetles, also expanding his love for the visual and energetic possibilities of crystals and minerals. JASON GRUHL is the former executive director and founder of The Joshua School (a school for children with Autism Spectrum Disorders and Developmental Disabilities in Boulder and Denver, CO) and an educational consultant. Jason holds a Master's degree in Counseling Psychology and a Bachelor's degree in English and Psychology, and dedicates his life to self-discovery through meditation and reflection. ANDI TODARO's graphic design projects have taken her across the US and into Europe: from her recent work with MSNBC in NYC for their coverage of "The Feast," to her designs for the "Belle Epoque" and "Bollywood" Galas of the American School of Paris. Product details Cards Publisher: Roost Books; Box Tcr Cr edition (October 10, 2017) Language: English ISBN-10: 1611805481 ISBN-13: 9781611805482 Product Dimensions: 3.2 x 1.8 x 5 inches Shipping Weight: 13.6 ounces

[exploresdestinations1]

Best Travel Destinations for Your Next Adventure

When planning your next vacation, choosing the perfect destination can feel overwhelming with so many incredible options worldwide. Whether you're seeking stunning natural landscapes, rich cultural experiences, or urban adventures, there’s a destination for everyone. Here are some of the best travel destinations that promise unforgettable experiences.

1. Bali, Indonesia

Known as the "Island of the Gods," Bali is a tropical paradise that offers something for everyone. From serene beaches and lush rice terraces to vibrant nightlife and spiritual temples, Bali has it all. Visit Ubud for its art and culture, relax in luxury resorts in Seminyak, or catch some waves in Canggu. Don’t forget to explore the iconic temples like Uluwatu and Tanah Lot while indulging in the island’s delicious cuisine.

2. Kyoto, Japan

Kyoto is the heart of traditional Japan, with its stunning temples, serene gardens, and historic tea houses. Time your visit during the cherry blossom season (March to April) for a magical experience, or explore the colorful autumn foliage in October and November. Highlights include the Fushimi Inari Shrine, Arashiyama Bamboo Grove, and Gion District, where you might spot a geisha. Kyoto offers a blend of ancient tradition and modern comfort.

3. Santorini, Greece

Santorini is one of the most romantic destinations in the world. Its whitewashed buildings with blue-domed roofs overlooking the sparkling Aegean Sea make it picture-perfect. Explore the charming villages of Oia and Fira, relax on unique beaches with black or red sand, and enjoy breathtaking sunsets. Pair the views with some of Greece’s finest wines and Mediterranean cuisine for an unforgettable escape.

4. Cape Town, South Africa

Cape Town is a dynamic city where mountains meet the sea. Table Mountain, a flat-topped wonder, offers panoramic views of the city and the Atlantic Ocean. Explore the Cape Winelands for world-class wines, visit Robben Island to learn about Nelson Mandela’s legacy, and take a scenic drive along the Cape Peninsula to see Cape Point and the adorable penguins at Boulders Beach. Cape Town is a hub for adventure, history, and natural beauty.

5. Rome, Italy

Step back in time in the Eternal City. Rome is a treasure trove of ancient landmarks, including the Colosseum, Roman Forum, and Pantheon. Wander through the cobblestone streets, toss a coin in the Trevi Fountain, and savor authentic Italian cuisine at local trattorias. Don’t miss Vatican City, home to St. Peter’s Basilica and the Sistine Chapel, showcasing Michelangelo’s breathtaking frescoes.

6. Queenstown, New Zealand

Known as the adventure capital of the world, Queenstown is a paradise for thrill-seekers and nature lovers. Nestled on the shores of Lake Wakatipu and surrounded by the Southern Alps, the scenery is nothing short of spectacular. Try bungee jumping, skydiving, or jet boating, or enjoy a more relaxed pace with wine tours in the nearby Central Otago region. Winter brings excellent skiing opportunities, while summer offers hiking trails with stunning vistas.

7. Marrakech, Morocco

Marrakech is a vibrant city that tantalizes the senses. Wander through the bustling souks of the Medina, where you can shop for colorful textiles, spices, and handcrafted goods. The city’s iconic landmarks include the Koutoubia Mosque, Jardin Majorelle, and Bahia Palace. As the sun sets, head to Jemaa el-Fnaa square to experience street performances and savor Moroccan delicacies like tagines and mint tea.

8. Banff National Park, Canada

For outdoor enthusiasts, Banff National Park is a dream destination. Located in the Canadian Rockies, Banff offers stunning landscapes of turquoise lakes, towering mountains, and dense forests. Visit Lake Louise and Moraine Lake for postcard-perfect views, hike scenic trails, or relax in the Banff Upper Hot Springs. In winter, the park transforms into a snowy wonderland ideal for skiing and snowboarding.

9. Istanbul, Turkey

Where East meets West, Istanbul is a city of rich history and vibrant culture. Explore the Hagia Sophia, Blue Mosque, and Topkapi Palace to delve into the city’s Ottoman and Byzantine past. Stroll through the Grand Bazaar for a unique shopping experience, and enjoy a cruise along the Bosphorus Strait for stunning city views. Istanbul’s diverse cuisine is another highlight, with dishes like kebabs, baklava, and Turkish tea.

10. Sydney, Australia

Sydney combines cosmopolitan charm with natural beauty. Iconic landmarks like the Sydney Opera House and Harbour Bridge dominate the skyline, while Bondi and Manly beaches offer a slice of coastal paradise. Take a ferry to Taronga Zoo or enjoy a day trip to the Blue Mountains for a change of scenery. The city’s vibrant dining scene showcases Australian flavors with global influences.

Conclusion

Whether you're drawn to serene beaches, historic cities, or adventurous landscapes, these destinations promise memories to last a lifetime. As you plan your journey, consider your interests, budget, and travel goals to select the perfect spot. The world is full of wonders—venture out and explore!

[blondepomwrites]

A colleague and I did a little writing challenge during our shift tonight. We challenged each other to write about something in our house that elicited strong opinions or big feelings.

It's been so long since I've written basically anything, so this unhinged ficlet spilled out. 🤷‍♀️

-----

That fucking blue stain.

You don’t even like the carpet. It doesn’t even bother you that the carpet has a stain—well, it does, for homogeny reasons: too small to be an accent, but just bright enough to stand out nonetheless.

It’s more about what the stain used to be, which was blue ink, which was a blue fountain pen, which was your favorite. It had a smart point (to make up for its user), and generally had a good sensory aesthetic, which is the coward’s way to say: Pen Feel Good.

It had a delicious way of writing: it seemed the pen actually had no ink at all—the paper simply bled in blue from where the pen had scratched it. Here, the words lived within the paper and the pen was more chisel than utensil. Truly, Michaelangelo’s pen of choice: the Uni-Ball Roller (Eco)™.

Despite its unique utility, like most pens, it was resigned to a fate of signatures, sticky notes, and grocery lists. Occasionally, it got to shine as a label. Before its glorious retirement, it served you well as a keeper of information and a sacred focus of attention and memory from a long-forgotten deity. You’d had plans to elevate it to the status of Bedside Pen, but perhaps it was Apollo after all, as he bid you pause that, hmm, that ink might stain your bedsheets, should you fall prey to the hedonism of sleep during your attempted (fruitless) commune with the muses. So, instead, you pen a quick “DON’T FORGET - START DISHWASHER” on a sticky note and set it down on the counter.

And now, every potential scribble, scrawl, and scrabbling scratch lay piled in an unceremonious blue heap on the carpet where the puppy had chewed it like a discarded soup bone.

The puppy doesn’t know what a phalanx is, or a furcula, or a sternum, or a spine. A pen is a cylinder—which the puppy doesn’t know either—which is also a rod, a stick, a bone, a chew. Despite catching the puppy red-handed (blue-pawed, rather), you can’t blame the puppy.

But you do. At least in part because of the treasure trove left on the counter tops, choosing the ball-point just felt pointed.

It takes more than a week of staring disdainfully at the stain to remember to clean it.

The stain remembers the fang it poured from, and fights tooth and nail against the rented carpet cleaner. Pass after pass, it remains. You have to imagine Sisyphus happy. Then, maybe the boulder flattens the mountain to a hill, and bit by bit, there’s more carpet than stain.

If you stare hard enough at the soapy, blue water spiraling down into the vortex, you’re almost certain you see a reminder to put the bins out. No doubt, without the pen, you’ll forget in a few week’s time.

Then, before long, it’s gone. All the words it had yet to write now floating in an alphabet soup of dirt and dog hair.

And you pour it down the drain.

The next day, your Bedside Pen falls between the headboard and the wall, and the world is cold and cruel. The puppy sleeps contentedly and dreams of destruction. You rise and, after a short search, resign yourself to a PaperMate Write Bros 1.0 in red.

And as it turns out, the ink is stored in the pen.

And the pen—the phalanx, furcula, sternum, and spine—writes the words.

It was never the puppy. It was never even the pen.

That fucking blue stain.

[sn-ryter]

Small Town Legends: Mabon Moon

It all started with a feast on the night of the full moon where the time wheel switched from Litha to Mabon. Two star-struck lovers meet for the very first time. A soft kiss to the hand for the respect of the lady in red and a hidden smile at the tip of the lips.

He was a son of a humble farmer who enriched the land with fruits and vegetables. The son wanting more from life than dirt and back labor. He wanted to be a guard of the Lord's table. From the ripe age of seven, he would learn about sword fighting, valor, and honor. Everything he needed to know about being a guard. For sixteen years, he trained every single day from dusk till dawn. On his twenty-third year, his training finally paid off and he became a guard after going through three brutal months of intense training.

She was the daughter of the Lord, who loved money more than the people he swore under oath to protect and prosper. Some of the townspeople loved him while others loathed the Romano name. With the threats growing more every day. With Iliana being the only heir, her father needed her to be protected at all times. With this decision, the Romano's held a feast in the new recruits honor.

What they both did not know is that fate had other plans for them.

She was supposedly destined to marry a duke from another country. He had his eyes on her since the day she became of age. With her beauty and grace amongst the people, she was the hidden gem to any man's heart. He courted her, gave her precious gifts, but behind closed doors there was another man who slowly stole her heart.

With the uprising from the east swiftly moving in, Dimitri Bartolini, one of the newest guards to be honored by the Lord, was now Iliana Romano's protector, her personal body guard. Long nights talking through an oak wooden door, turned into days where she would sneak off and gift him fresh food and wine.

It did not take long for them to seal their hearts for lifetimes to come.

One night, Iliana wanted to take a stroll out into the gardens when the moon was at its highest peak. Which meant no other eyes should see the two almost lovers do what is forbidden. At the stroke of twelve, they met at the darkest corner of the fountain. His masculine arms wide open for her to make her home in. After a shared secret kiss, he led her to the caves on the coast where the salty waters of the Mediterranean Sea would crash against the shore line. Placing her on a boulder, his lips would crash with hers, their clothes peeling off of one another. The gasps echoing around the rocklike tunnel. They made love for the very first time.

Days turned into months of secretly meeting one another at the hidden getaway, the cave. Making love with almost every meeting, she finally became pregnant with his unborn child. With the Duke still on her trail, and what her father expects of her, she had no idea what to do or who to turn to. So, one night she and the guard meet once again. After one sacred kiss after another, with tears in her eyes, she started to tell him the news. If word got out, Dimitri's head will be sliced off his body at the guillotine and she will be cast off to the brothel. After moments of thinking, going back and forth with their options, they decided to run away together, far away.

Later in the night, Alexander, one of the many guards of the Romano Manor, confronted Dimitri that night, explaining what he saw in the cave with him and Iliana, and how it is forbidden and what the consequences were. After a lengthy chat, the two men came to a silent agreement. Alexander will remain silent as long as he gets to have silver and gold when Dimitri is gone. Dimitri already knowing he could not trust Alexander with his life, he went to a witch that lived in the Dark Forest, just past the circular clearing where the clear night sky would shine above. He begged the witch to bound Iliana and himself for all eternity. Giving him the warning of the sacrifices and hardships they will face in future lives, he shook her hand in agreement, giving the witch an emerald and silver pendant that belonged to Iliana, it was her most prized possession.

The next morning, they go about their daily routine as if they had nothing planned. Except one thing stood in their way of death or freedom. Alexander, one of the guards, who just happened to catch the pair on one of their nightly outings recently had watched the whole thing unfold. The candles dimly lit around the cave, the scratch marks on Demetri's shoulders, the gripping of her thighs, everything. As dark of a fate that would bring upon the manor, the guard did what he promised he would not do. He told the Lord about the adultery early the same morning.

As the day went on, the two lovers met at the docks in disguised clothing. As they were boarding, something didn't feel right with Iliana. She started to cough, at first it was a light cough as if something was tickling her throat, soon though, it got worse and worse. Blood started to come up her throat, spattering all over Dimitri's shirt as he held her and pleaded with God himself to make her be okay. Within the hour Iliana and the unborn child passed away.

Dimitri, whom was full of anger and grief stormed back to the manor immediately finding Alexander. With his hand around his throat he demanded to know what happened. The guard trembled in his wake before spitting out the truth. Looking Dimitri in the eyes, he confessed to telling the Lord and that the Lord had ordered the chef to lace her drink with poison at breakfast, and that they were after him next if he doesn't go now. The blue hues from Dimitri's eyes turned stone cold black. How could a father kill his only child? For his revenge on Alexander, he cut out his tongue and slit his throat with the blade his father had gifted him.

The next person on his list was none other than the chef for going along with the ruthless Lord's plan. Finding a flaming hot steel rod that had a pig roasting on it, he grabbed it despite the temperature and pierced it right through the chef's body, impaling him. For the last person, he went straight to the Lord's chambers and awaited for the Lord to come back. Vowing that his face would be the last one the Lord get's to see before his heart gets ripped out.

Sitting on the brick window ledge, the sound of a door handle signaled Dimitri that the time has come. Watching the Lord waltzed in as if he didn't have a care in the world. Quietly standing up, as the Lord's back was turned, changing out of his clothes. When the lord was completely naked, Dimitri blew out one candle. "First you were born and groomed to be the lord." Dimitri stated in a deep voice, sliding the tip of his sword against the wooden floor. "Next, you made an oath that you have broken many of times." Blowing out another candle, he walked closer towards the Lord so he had no way to sheath a weapon of any sorts. "Then you find out your daughter is in love with a guard, and bearing his child in her womb... So you murder her. Your own flesh and blood but from the hands of another." With a low crackling laugh from Dimitri, anyone could tell he was on a blood lust for his bride to be. "As for that, you must be sacrificed."

As the Lord was about to call out for the guards, Dimitri slashed his throat with one quick swift. As the Lord fell, Dimitri, cut open the Lord's chest. Slowly and gratifying. Watching the Lord slowly suffer, blood pooling all around his body. Watching the life slowly dying inside the middle aged man's body, Dimitri dug his hand into the chest cavity and gripped the heart that was beating slowly and ripped it out like it was nothing. "I will see you in hell." Dimitri said in a hushed voice, spitting on the dead man's face before getting up and placing the heart inside of a box.

Follow me on Wattpad for more stories!

@SNRyter

[splashawaypoolspatx]

Creating a Resort-Style Oasis: Trends in Luxury Pool Remodel in Mansfield and Red Oak, TX

In the serene landscape of Mansfield, homeowners are increasingly turning their backyard pools into luxurious retreats reminiscent of upscale resort destinations. From elegant design elements to advanced technology, the latest trends in pool remodel in Mansfield and Red Oak, TX are all about creating a resort-style oasis right at home.

Infinity Edge Pools: One of the most captivating features of resort pools is the illusion of water extending infinitely into the horizon. Infinity edge pools, also known as vanishing edge or negative edge pools, achieve this effect by overflowing water over one or more edges, creating a seamless transition between the pool and its surroundings.

Waterfalls and Fountains: Incorporating water features like cascading waterfalls and tranquil fountains adds a touch of opulence to any pool area. These features enhance the visual appeal and contribute to the soothing ambiance, creating a serene atmosphere reminiscent of a luxury resort.

Spa-like Amenities: To elevate the relaxation experience, many homeowners incorporate spa-like amenities into their pool remodeling projects. This includes adding features such as built-in hot tubs, bubbling jets, and therapeutic massage seats, providing a rejuvenating escape from the stresses of daily life.

Smart Technology Integration: Modern pool remodeling projects in Mansfield embrace smart technology to enhance convenience, efficiency, and safety. From automated pool covers and lighting systems to remote-controlled temperature regulation and water quality monitoring, homeowners can effortlessly manage their pool experience with the touch of a button.

Outdoor Living Spaces: To complement the luxurious pool area, homeowners are expanding their outdoor living spaces to include comfortable seating areas, cozy fire pits, and stylish pergolas or cabanas. These additions create inviting spaces for lounging, dining, and entertaining, making the pool area a focal point of outdoor gatherings.

Customized Lighting Designs: Lighting plays a crucial role in setting the mood and ambiance of a pool area, especially during evening hours. LED lighting systems allow for customizable color schemes and dynamic lighting effects, transforming the pool into a mesmerizing visual spectacle after dark.

Sustainable Features: As eco-consciousness grows, so does the demand for sustainable pool design and construction practices. From energy-efficient pumps and filtration systems to eco-friendly materials and water-saving features, homeowners in Mansfield are incorporating sustainability into their pool remodeling projects without compromising on luxury or style.

Resort-Inspired Landscaping: To complete the resort-style oasis, landscaping plays a vital role in creating a lush and inviting outdoor environment. Tropical plants, palm trees, and ornamental grasses can enhance the tropical ambiance, while strategically placed rocks and boulders add natural beauty and texture to the landscape.

The trend towards luxury pool remodeling reflects a desire for ultimate relaxation, comfort, and sophistication right in the comfort of one's backyard. With the help of a good pool company in Red Oak and Waxahachie, TX, it is easier for homeowners to get a resort-style pool right in their backyard.

[annwynisland]

Crafting Catalogue

Regular DIY and food recipes in single list. All items in alphabetical order, recommended to ctrl + F to search. Names spelled in US English.

Acorn pochette

Aji fry

Anchoas al ajillo

Apple dress

Apple jam

Apple jelly

Apple smoothie

Aroma pot

Axe

Backyard lawn

Baked potatoes

Bamboo bench

Bamboo doll

Bamboo flooring

Bamboo hat

Bamboo noodle slide

Bamboo shelf

Bamboo sphere

Bamboo stool

Bamboo-slats fence

Bamboo wall decoration

Barbell

Barred-knifejaw carpaccio

Barrel

Basement flooring

Basket pack

Beekeeper's hive

Big festive tree

Birdbath

Birdhouse

Block fence

Bone doorplate

Bonfire

Bonsai shelf

Bread

Bread gratin

Brick fence

Brick oven

Brick well

Brown sugar

Brown-sugar cupcakes

Campfire

Cardboard chair

Carpaccio di capesante

Carpaccio di marlin blu

Carrot bagel sandwich

Carrot cake

Carrot potage

Carrot scones

Cherry dress

Cherry lamp

Cherry pie

Cherry smoothie

Cherry speakers

Cherry umbrella

Cherry wall

Chic tulip crown

Clam chowder

Classic pitcher

Clothesline

Coconut juice

Coconut pudding

Cookies

Cool windflower wreath

Corrugated iron fence

Cosmos crown

Country fence

Cute lily crown

Dark wooden-mosaic wall

Decayed tree

Deer decoration

Destinations signpost

DIY workbench

Document stack

Donation box

Drinking fountain

Festive rug

Festive top set

Festive tree

Festive wrapping paper

Fish and chips

Fish bait

Fishing rod

Flimsy axe

Flimsy fishing rod

Flimsy net

Flimsy shovel

Flimsy watering can

Floral swag

Flour

Forbidden altar

Fountain

Foxtail

Frosted pretzels

Fruit cupcakes

Fruit scones

Frying pan

Garbage-heap flooring

Garbage-heap wall

Garden bench

Garden wagon

Gear tower

Giant ornament

Giant vine

Gift pile

Glow-in-the-dark stickers

Glowing-moss boulder

Glowing-moss dress

Glowing-moss pointed cap

Glowing-moss stool

Gnocchi di carote

Gnocchi di patate

Gold armor

Gold bars

Gold-screen wall

Golden altar

Golden arowana model

Golden decorative plate

Golden flooring

Golden garden bunny

Golden gear apparatus

Golden gear tower

Golden piggy bank

Golden vase

Grass skirt

Gratin

Green bamboo fence

Green bamboo mat

Grilled sea bass with herbs

Hanging terrarium

Hay bed

Hearth

Hedge

Hedge standee

Holiday candle

Hyacinth wreath

Illuminated present

Illuminated reindeer

Illuminated snowflakes

Illuminated tree

Iron-and-stone fence

Iron armor

Iron fence

Iron hanger stand

Iron wall lamp

Iron wall rack

Iron worktable

Ironwood bed

Ironwood cart

Ironwood cupboard

Ironwood DIY workbench

Ironwood kitchenette

Jingle wall

Karei no nitsuke

King Tut mask

Ladder

Large cardboard boxes

Large lattice fence

Leaf

Leaf umbrella

Libra scale

Log bed

Log bench

Log chair

Log dining table

Log fence

Log garden lounge

Log pack

Log round table

Log stakes

Log-wall fence

Log wall-mounted clock

Manga-library wall

Manhole cover

Mermaid bed

Mermaid chair

Mermaid flooring

Mermaid screen

Mermaid wall clock

Mini DIY workbench

Mini golden dharma

Mixed-fruits crepe

Mixed-fruits pie

Mixed-fruits sandwich

Mossy garden rock

Mountain standee

Mush lamp

Mush log

Mush low stool

Mush parasol

Mush table

Mushroom curry

Mushroom potage

Mushroom wand

Mushroom wreath

Natural garden chair

Natural garden table

Natural square table

Net

Nice branch

Ocarina

Old-fashioned washtub

Olive-flounder meunière

Open wooden shelves

Orange end table

Orange hat

Orange jelly

Orange pie

Orange rug

Orange wall

Organic bread

Ornament crown

Ornament mobile

Ornament tree

Ornament wreath

Outdoor bath

Pancakes

Pansy table

Pansy wreath

Park fence

Paw-print doorplate

Peach chair

Peach rug

Peach smoothie

Pear hat

Pear jam

Pear jelly

Pear tart

Pesce all'acqua pazza

Pizza margherita

Plain scones

Plain sink

Plain wooden shop sign

Plate armor

Pot

Potato curry

Potato galette

Potato potage

Potted ivy

Pound cake

Pretty tulip wreath

Pretzels

Pull-apart bread

Pumpkin bagel sandwich

Pumpkin curry

Pumpkin pie

Pumpkin pound cake

Recycled boots

Recycled-can thumb piano

Red-leaf pile

Ringtoss

Robot hero

Rocking chair

Rocking horse

Roost sablé cookie

Rope fence

Rope-net flooring

Round glowing-moss rug

Ruined arch

Sardines in oil

Sauna heater

Sautéed olive flounder

Savory bread

Scorpio lamp

Sea-bass pie

Seafood pizza

Seaweed soup

Shell bed

Shell fountain

Shell music box

Shell partition

Shell rug

Shell speaker

Shell stool

Shell wreath

Shovel

Silo

Simple DIY workbench

Simple well

Skateboard wall rack

Ski-slope flooring

Ski-slope wall

Sleigh

Slingshot

Small cardboard boxes

Snowflake pochette

Snowflake wreath

Spaghetti napolitan

Spooky arch

Spooky candy set

Spooky carriage

Spooky chair

Spooky fence

Spooky garland

Spooky lantern

Spooky lantern set

Spooky scarecrow

Spooky standing lamp

Spooky table

Spooky table setting

Spooky tower

Spooky treats basket

Spooky tree

Spooky trick lamp

Spooky wand

Squid-ink curry

Squid-ink spaghetti

Stack of books

Stacked shopping baskets

Stall

Standard umbrella stand

Star wand

Stone arch

Stone axe

Stone fence

Stone stool

Stone table

Stone tablet

Stone wall

Stonework kitchen

Succulent plant

Sugar

Swinging bench

Tabletop festive tree

Tall garden rock

Tall lantern

Tension-pole rack

Tiki torch

Tiny library

Tire stack

Tire toy

Tomato bagel sandwich

Tomato curry

Tomato juice

Tomato puree

Traditional balancing toy

Trash bags

Tree standee

Tree's bounty arch

Tree's bounty little tree

Tree's bounty mobile

Turkey Day casserole

Turkey Day chair

Turkey Day decorations

Turkey Day garden stand

Turkey Day hearth

Turkey Day table

Turkey Day table setting

Turkey Day wheat decor

Vaulting pole

Veggie basket

Veggie crepe

Veggie cupcakes

Vertical-board fence

Vine hanging chair

Vine outfit

Watering can

Wave breaker

Western-style stone

Whole-wheat flour

Wild log bench

Wooden-block bookshelf

Wooden-block chair

Wooden-block stereo

Wooden-block table

Wooden-block toy

Wooden box

Wooden bucket

Wooden chair

Wooden end table

Wooden fish

Wooden ladder set-up kit

Wooden low table

Wooden-mosaic wall

Wooden simple bed

Wooden table mirror

Wooden wardrobe

Zen fence

Zen-style stone

[m58]

new poems from Morgan Francis

from farm gate lean listening for bleat cough bark he’d walking stick to their call make little or no remark

in snow buried days he knew where to search spade out dig in shawl foster lanolin rubbed off on him

at his funeral i had no language for the blitz of death

a theatre of hills became cemetery where men from nowhere to be seen crowded in song breach

an immaculate sky unfenced

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

dear cliff when you phoned i was filling my fountain pen in bed wanted to scribble notes of a dream

something like this

heavenly golden ribbon in flow out of the top of my head streaming into all mighty wherever

thoughtlessly i gave it a couple of whacks with a silver sword thing eyes tight shut was no feeling of severance

jolting wide awake from the phone noise thing i reached for a pad to write on as well as phone and ended up with ink on my nose from wiping nib with the paper sneezing at the same time

wasn’t an important dream glad you called friday half past seven is fine

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

never met her really once twice perhaps even though we grew up with in an also mile

somebody said in a pub that’s Olwen over by there

statue lovely everything about her shoulders was stillness

female pharaoh men ached to lounge about her body garden

see her at night in front of the fireplace happy as a rag mat on the kitchen floor

red cheeks anthracite aglow hairdresser curls perfect

in spite of everyone who loved her she still left early

perhaps because of them i only watched

just say to myself now and again Olwen Flowers know where she’s buried

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

day wide sleep elm trunks enormous my walk pass lost as a misunderstood city

heel drag in clueless search for your never far away

leaf prints among sound corners of beyond mislead into giddy escape i thought you lost

people made neither noise nor greeting silence led to you

stranger me at guest edge festival then a rush towards nothing and blue light

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

word fruit letters into awakening as shire flow hay seed column slants hail wait silence of never cease

or pin centre still subaltern wheels pass day after day pass on cycle rest sky peel

and of my trespass say there is better keep greater than joy radiant beyond fold or fall

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

baking sun bread ovens on banked straw as beauty yeasts an hour

soundless except for wind company walking every stem and ear

clay yellow fingers stream a banked direction

slippage and song silence contend in open drowse leave me here whispers

fallen stones stray as thought asleep in decibel surrender

where the plateau drops at its first edge there was a boulder punched with rows of careful now empty as diamonds

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

tip fingers touch new tenderness in unfolding abode

you give such love more than can be known to kiss me home

there’s already a pile of knitwear for you to outgrow

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

night silent purples glow impossible floatation i remember cave and sesame when we sat on a hill you had goodbye about you spelling heaven and earth abandon my day window sills an unlocking of yellow buttercups

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

under black straw hat kindness aged hair white with faith features shining religion are you saved she demanded certain that my answer would be in step with her persuasion i was targeted for the flock

knowing my reply would disappoint yet wishing to show respect my hesitation leaned to both sides i don’t know mrs davies i mumbled i’m not sure really her features erupted red eyes bawled into my silence from a face bereaved of charity

this happened by the bus stop luckily one arrived

sorry i’ve got to go i said jumping on last to get off at the next stop down and walk back home

on that road a boy became Odysseus

Morgan Francis lives in Cardiff. His collections include: The Sun Lights and the Sun Shades, Holiness of Clay, Selected Poems and Donkey Jacket.

[discotechque]

there must be blood

pairing: zagreus/gn! reader word count: 1.3k rating: T

dreams are the highest form of deception. that worn face he cups within frosted hands is simply a mask.

He sees you in dreams, or perhaps, it's best described as a memory. Threading your fingers through the swirling souls of the River Styx. Smiling as desperate fingers cling to a sadistic hand that won't grant them peace of stale still air. Eyes widening as you recognize his face and dash away from the red river that swallows him whole.

Other times it's in the shadows of tunnels he ventures within just to find a satyr sack, slinking away in the darkness once he has noticed your presence. A mere mirage, Zagreus assures himself before also realizing he is not the only one who has tended to Cerberus' request. The fabric of a torn bag resting against the crevice of a jagged tooth and drooling lip.

When he notices a boon has gone missing at Charon's shop, he knows that something else lives within the Styx.

However, he does not know of any dead that are permitted to inhabit this domain. Hardly seems practical to let them wander near the surface and Hades would be aware of any strays threatening this balance. Hell, even he would know it himself through his wonderful flaw of eavesdropping.

He once asked Hypnos with his shoulders slouched and dripping with crimson liquid that nicely complimented his exhaustion. "A shade roaming the Temple? I'm starting to think that constantly dying is making you have a couple screws loose." After that, Zagreus keeps his curiosity outside of the house and within the layers of the Underworld.

Sisyphus has not encountered anything he's described. Too busy with boulder pushing, the forgotten king jokes but Zagreus knows it to be true. Eurydice welcomes all into her infernal abode but has not been accompanied by any new strangers. And Patroclus ... well, his inquiry would fall onto a man who shows no sign of being patient with other shades.

Truthfully, he didn't think anything would come of this. It happens to most of his more trivial requests. Discarded by a snap judgment over his sanity and laid to rest. It's a rumor, his mind wraps up this potential mystery with a logical conclusion, the poison from cultists must be playing tricks on me.

It's logical until he reaches the temple once again. A lone figure stands near the fountain. Cupping the liquid within their hands and lightly lapping at it, their expression sours. He assumes it's a stray cultist—drawing the spear from his spine and inching closer with bated breath. The chipped and worn blade can still strike any enemy onto their knees.

However, this stranger seems to be pointedly ignoring him. Coughing lightly after consuming what he considers to be an acquired taste and trifling through their satchel. "Do you always go drinking out of random fountains? Could've been poison for all you know." His voice bounces against the cavern and seems to be the only thing that truly captures their attention.

He's aware that you're not a god; at least not one with any major importance. Zagreus assumes that if you were, there would be ample activities to choose from that do not involve slumming in the labyrinth of the Styx.

A lithe grin gives way to your features, "I take my chances every now and then. Pleased to see you've made it up here, the dead are a lively sort when it comes to your accomplishments."

"You are aware of who I am?" He regrets the question as soon as it leaves his mouth. Toiling around the Underworld, slaying the champions of Elysium, forging an escape by the grace of the Olympus. Certainly, that warrants his exploits to be surrounded by some acclaim.

Yet, your answer is unexpected.

A graceful smile gains an edge and turns sharp. "Well, you've been asking of me. I know I should be flattered, you're the Prince of the Underworld and whatnot. Although, I don't see a reason for being wasteful with your birthright." His blade is swift and without remorse, pressed against your jugular, and you are suddenly forced still. "Woah, I'm not here to be skewered!"

His eyes narrow and it's then you notice that his glare splits into two contradicting and distinct traits. Spiteful yet inquisitive. "Then what are you here for? Surely, you must belong in Tartarus or Elysium. Unless ... you’re a mortal?”

His curiosity has won again. Lowering his spear against the crook of your collar. The jagged edge threatening to slit your flesh at any moment he deems fit. You wouldn't be surprised if violence occurred after this question.

"You ever been told you're nosey? I roam where I am allowed and tend to what I need to." He figures you shouldn't even be allowed here, turned away by the simple bark of Cerberus or face the wrath of being torn to shreds. However, there are always exceptions to be made by those who simply seek to defy the gods.

In all honesty, you want to know of the Styx and how such a stream can act as a barrier for the living and dead. Bathing within it seems out of the question as you have only heard of one hero who did so and left a trail of tragedy.

Yet, to take sips of it. To let the river flood your system as it finds a home and maybe absorb some of its power in exchange for a piece of your soul. It's the thing legends are made out of and even if you aren't hunger for fame, you are itching for the influence of when your name is whispered as a deity. That's what power is: an exchange.

People say it's impossible but you've felt death pass over your fingertips and still feel welcomed within its caress. Maybe Thanatos or Hades don't share the kindness of shades but they're not perpetually tumbling through the bottomless crimson.

"So what, you decided to sneak around the Styx to tend to things? I can assure you that Cerberus is well taken of."

You catch his gaze with a grimace, grabbing an item and tossing it before him. "The hellhound is not the source of my concern."

A sack wriggles before him with slightly muffled chittering. It's the only sound that contrasts against the steady stream of the fountain. He doesn't know if he should look at you; if you'll still have that same revolting expression that only rears its head once it lands on him. It burns him and maybe he enjoys the way it chars his head.

“I will have my fill, Zagreus, that you can bet on." Something about his name being said with such malice causes warmth to blossom within his chest. He's awfully attracted to being mocked, it's not something he's proud to admit. "I will pillage and cull and scavenge until I have a feast fit for the Gods.”

He's never understood this envy towards immortality. Yet, he knows better than to assume that you wish to be likened to a god. To be worshipped and revered all the same. Maybe it's terror you seek and if that's the case, Ares would possibly be glad to sponsor future pursuits.

"I don't think I know what that's like." The lie burns against his throat like taking a stray step in Asphodel, not unlike your gaze. He is met with silence at first but he feels like you know.

Still, a huff escapes you—clinging onto the borderline between a scoff and laugh. “You will. You are as starving as I am. For different things maybe, but that ambition is what keeps you alive.”

The breath that leaves him is relief, maybe the Fates are aware of this meeting. Unspooling threads that web and weave all across each other. Or maybe he's crossing paths with someone he was never meant to see.

Amused, you continue, "Would appreciate my name being kept from your mouth. Asking questions tends to only make things harder."

"Can't make any promises."

"I think you can make a lot of things happen." That same edge smile returns, he's not sure how he can ever forget it now.

When he breathes again, all that surrounds him is an empty chamber and the residue of spite.

[resonating-kitty]

Tomburgers - The New Favorite Place

A short, cute little fic of @warped-m0ss 's AU where Dream and Tommy create their own restaurant to cause problems for Wilbur and Quackity.

-

It was a plan to cause problems on purpose but neither Dream nor Tommy could cook. Luckily Dream has just the plan and it turns out to be the best one yet.

-

Their partnership has been a shock to the whole server and their announcement of their new business was even more so. Dream and Tommy, sick and tired of having to deal with whatever was going on between Las Nevadas and the newly established Paradise, put aside their differences and decided to team up - temporarily! Only temporarily - in order to cause as much grief for both places as possible. You know, causing problems on purpose.

They’d built their shop, a little hut on the back side of spawn. Tommy built the building while Dream did a bit of terraforming, even building up a small little water fountain as well as establishing outside seating. Once that was complete both went out to gather all the food they could, Dream brought back mutton, beef, pork, and a variety of fish. Tommy brought the vegetables, bread and sweets. It was when they got it all together and was almost ready to have their grand opening did the thought occur.

“Say Dream,” Tommy began with a pensive look on his face, immediately drawing the masked man’s attention, “We went and did all this but do either of us actually know how to cook?”

Dream paused, his mask actually obscuring his facial expression but Tommy knew Dream well enough to see the jolt that went through him, saw the way his shoulders dropped just slightly.

“We don’t.” Tommy confirmed and Dream nodded, once and hesitant. Tommy cursed. They had all the raw ingredients they could ever need, certainly much more than either of their opponents, and Tommy had been almost done writing up their menu as well, but if they couldn’t cook it then they couldn’t serve it. It was the rule and Eret held the right as the only licensed food connoisseur to shut any restaurant down if they didn’t meet their regulations for food prep that they had laid down.

“Maaaan” Tommy whined, sliding down to sit on the polished oak floor. Dream remained silent, head tilted slightly. He was thinking, Tommy realized but he didn’t know what they could do. They couldn’t trick Eret. The other had an uncanny ability to see through bullshit.

“How finished is your menu?” Dream asked eventually, slowly like the puzzles in his head were starting to come together.

Tommy sighed, “It’s nearly done but I don’t see the point in finishing it if everything we can serve is raw.” He fought the urge to roll his eyes but he did jump when Dream suddenly spun on his heels and hastily headed for the door. “Oi! Where are you going?” He called after, making Dream pause briefly in the doorway.

“Finish the menu Tommy. Leave everything raw.” Dream ordered.

“What?!” Tommy exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He huffed and glared, throwing his hand out, “We can’t serve raw food to people Dream! Eret won’t bloody allow it or did you forget?”

“Trust me Tommy,” Dream said only to have Tommy snort.

“You took my discs, exiled me, and blew up a country and now you’re asking me to trust you?” Tommy asked, disbelieving.

“I did all that, you’re right. You tried to blackmail me with my dead horse, you killed the only peace I had in Pandora, and you also tried to kill me while I was defenseless and half starved and tortured,” Dream shot back, his voice calm. Tommy flinched slightly but Dream continued, “I’m not asking you to trust me fully but trust me when it comes to our business. We’re on the same page here with this.”

Tommy thought about it before he nodded, “Yeah alright. I’ll finish the menu but where are you going?”

“I see a friend.” Was all Dream offered before he was gone and left a grumbling Tommy picking up a pen to work on the menu.

-

A day later Tomburger opened officially.

Tommy was nervous and he kept glancing at Dream as he stood in an apron with his arms folded across his chest. He appeared to be waiting on someone - had been for the last thirty minutes of them announcing to the whole of the server that they were open. Tommy had resorted to pacing, a nervous boulder lodging itself firmly in his belly. He was just waiting for Eret to show up and take one look at their menu and shut them down, ending their attempts before it could even begin.

“Calm down,” Dream’s voice was firm but gentle, making Tommy pause long enough to glare.

“Calm down he says,” Tommy mocked, “Why aren’t you as nervous as I am? Eret’s going to shut us down man. There’s no way we’ll be able to-” Tommy’s voice trailed off as a low grumbling just outside their hut sounds.

“I don’t know what to tell you Steve,” Techno’s voice rose up in response, “This is where Dream said to meet him.”

A cackling whine rose up as well along with whinney of a horse. “Look I don’t know why Dream told us to come here either but I trust the guy,” Techno responds seconds before he appears at the small window they’d built.

Dream laughs as he let’s up the window. “Techno! Good to see you, ah I see you brought the animals. Good good.” Tommy remains silent, not sure where Dream was going with this, but he steps forward to peek outside, noting Steve the polar bear, Carl the stallion, and Blitz the fox all accompanying the Piglin.

“Yeah you asked me to bring them here but uh I’m not exactly sure what here is.” Techno replied, gazing at the building with a raised brow.

“Welcome to Tomburger!” Dream announced, spreading his arms wide. The grin could be heard in his voice, “We serve all the pets of the server the finest food. We have a little bit of everything, look!” A menu is handed out the window for Techno to take and he does so. Tommy watched as Techno took a step back as his three pets gathered around. Blitz peeked down from his spot curled around the Piglin’s neck while Carl looked over one shoulder and Steve the other.

The pets looked down the menu before Blitz started wagging his fluffy tail and chattering eagerly. Steven huffed and grunted, licking his lips. Carl bobbed his head and nudged the side of Techno’s head.

“Blitz wants the rabbit dish here, the uh Lucky Rabbit Hindquarters with a side of red mushrooms. Steve wanted the Salmon Grande but hold the kelp, he doesn’t like kelp. Carl wants a dozen freshly cut carrots.” Techno ordered as his three pets made excited noises. He fished out a handful of golden nuggets and handed them over.

“Thank you,” Dream smiled, taking payment. “We’ll have it out for you in just a moment. Please have a seat and relax.” He said before sliding the window shut and turning around to where Tommy was gaping at him.

“You’re bloody brilliant, you know that?” Tommy asked before he registered what he said. He blinked in surprise as Dream merely chuckled. “For a bitch.” He tried to recover with the insult, ears reddening in embarrassment.

Luckily Dream let him have it by merely laughing and nodding, “Yes I know.”

They got to work, preparing the dishes and serving them to their waiting customers. It was a hit. Techno’s pets loved their dishes and Techno himself was impressed with the restaurant.

By the end of the week Techno has brought his whole wolf army to be served. Sam had heard through the grapevine and brought Fran to try out the food. Other members of the server started bringing their own pets as well.

Dream had to break the news to Sapnap that he would be banned from entering the premises due to his history as a serial pet killer. Sapnap had whined but relented when Dream promised to make some extra special fish food for Mars and Beckerson.

It was months before Drista made her appearance, along with the new puppy Tommy had gotten to replace the dog that he’d accidentally killed. The puppy took to the place instantly and a happy puppy meant a less chaotic Goddess of Mischief. Drista vowed the lands of the Tomburger restaurant to be under her protection and promised pain to any and all who would dare to harm the place.

Quackity and Wilbur could do nothing but simmer in their anger, as neither were prepared to face the wrath of the Goddess.

Tomburger turned into quite the social hang out among the server inhabitants and Dream and Tommy were soon swimming in gold. Tommy was happy and Dream was as well.

[amchara]

Road to Hell (Wait for Me, I'm Coming) Pt 1 - Kit / Ty fanfic

An expanded version of this Orpheus and Eurydice post

Part one tonight, fingers crossed part two tomorrow!

--

The silence in the Faerie wood was deafening.

Ty stared at the spot in the clearing where Kit had just been standing. His last words echoed in Ty’s mind, as he lifted up his chin and said. “Take me instead.” He had spared a glance at Ty, clear blue eyes burning with purpose and another message that Ty was still trying to decipher before he had vanished.

Dru and Anush came rushing over and Ty allowed Dru to help him up. Ty could feel his muscles aching from where he had been thrown but he barely paid attention.

“What just happened?” Dru asked, her freckles standing out her pale face. “Where’s Kit gone?”

A giggle erupted from a pocket of thick bushes nearby. Ty didn’t even stop to think, he plunged in, a knife appearing by instinct in his hand as he hauled out the short, wiggling goblin and shoved him up against the nearest tree.

“Where did that Faerie take him?” he spat out, his mind spinning as he suddenly struggled to deal with the fact that Kit. Was gone.

The goblin stopped giggling; its voice sing-song in its malice as it said: “To Hades. You’ll never see him again, Nephilim.”

The world narrowed to a pinprick, on its horrible face and mocking smile. Ty could see the splash of red on the goblin’s throat growing, as his knife started carving in, before Anush’s hand wrenched it out of his hand, as he pulled Ty away.

The goblin snarled, its shark teeth flashing in the fading sunlight as it scurried away.

“What the hell, Ty?” Anush was shaking from the effort, and Ty stopped fighting him, allowing his knife to fall on the ground.

His mind latched on what Anush had just said. “Hell… I know where he’s gone.”

He whirled around and started walking out of the clearing, already starting to connect the dots of the plan, his fingers tapping out a pattern on his weapons belt as he thought.

*

The audience with the Unseelie King was held in a smaller, private room, rather than the grey throne room, strewn with boulders. Kieran looked grave. “I have no authority over Hades and his realm… it is an ancient part of Faerie that has never ceded to either Seelie or Unseelie rule. There are tales that it is a remnant of the original demon realm from the demon who helped sire the Fae.”

He paused, as he took in Ty, and his voice softened. “Hades is one of his eldest children, it is said. I have never heard of anyone who has returned from his realm-- it is said they are as good as… dead.”

Ty could feel Mark’s gaze on him, from where he was standing beside Kieran and he surged forward, as if to touch Ty on the shoulder or give him a hug.

Ty neatly sidestepped him and Mark stopped short. “Ty- we can keep looking but…” and in his voice Ty could hear the truth - and Mark would not sugarcoat it for him. He thought Kit was gone.

“I see,” Ty said, and for the second time that day, he started walking away. Distantly, he knew that he should be more polite and continue the conversation but he couldn’t. Not while Kit was in the literal underworld and he was out here. Not when he had failed before with Livvy. That wasn’t about to happen again.

Ty searched out the Herondale necklace that he wore below Livvy’s locket, stroking it as he thought. This time… this time would be different.

*

The Underworld was… not what Kit had expected. But maybe that was on him, as despite not being religious, he still pictured hell as a fiery pit filled with demons, torturing the souls of wicked people.

This was not that - but it was still hot, Kit admitted. The weak fluorescent lights showed grey and brown walls rising up twenty feet or more, the roof barely visible with no light shining in from the dirty windows, while machinery and sparks flew around and workers with dull, lifeless faces walked past.

The Faerie guard pushed him down another corridor and Kit felt trepidation as they neared a heavy-looking wooden door, with a sign spelling out the word: BOSS in stark black lettering.

“Good to know I’m important enough to be taken to the person in charge,” Kit said, but he felt his heart sinking. He knew it had been a stupid plan but he had panicked - he knew currently he had one ace - that he was the heir of the First Descendent - but that was as likely to get him killed as get him out of a sticky situation.

The Faerie guard smirked, as he shoved Kit through the door. “The Boss sees all new workers.”

And then he closed the door, leaving Kit to stand face to face with Hades.

Kit wasn’t that up on his mythology but Hades wasn’t what he had expected - no Disney villain with grey skin and burning flames for hair or a toga-ed bronzed man with the abs of a literal Greek God, but make no mistake- this version was still impressive.

He looked at Kit from where he was sitting behind a rich mahogany desk, a burly man in his sixties, in a sharply-cut black suit and a full head and beard of snow white hair.

“Oh, it’s been a while since I’ve caught a pretty angel bird in my trap,” he said, his deep voice almost crooning, as he laid down a fountain pen and folded his hands in front of him.

Kit cleared his throat. “Yeah- well, I came of my own free will- to protect my friends,” he said.

Hades took in Kit, from his torn and dirty gear to the unhealed cuts on his face when Kit had still attempted to escape when they first arrived at the underworld’s gates. “Is that so?” he said, his amused chuckle almost a rumble.

He pulled out some sheaves of paper from a drawer and pushed them across his desk in front of Kit. He held out his pen. “In that case, I’m sure you’re happy to sign the contract.”

Contract… something in Kit’s memory screamed out a warning but he found himself mesmerized by Hades’ eyes - there were the flames, he thought - burning like a fire’s dying embers. He walked towards the desk and he felt his hand pick up the pen, almost of its own volition and moving towards the papers.

Behind him, the door opened and a woman’s musical voice rang out, cutting through the spell. “Hades? Are you almost finished with your work?”

Kit jerked back and he dropped the pen, the ink spilling out on the page.

The woman came around to stand beside Hades, her full figure brushing past Kit as she walked past, and her green eyes burned brightly in her dark face as she examined him.

Hades stood and he placed a possessive arm around the woman, whose small wince was so fleeting that Kit wasn’t sure he had seen it.

“Almost, my darling,” Hades said. His voice was sharp as he barked at Kit, who was surreptitiously trying to find an escape or at least, a weapon. “Stop.”

His compulsion was strong but Kit tried fighting back anyway. He summoned the brief training he had had with Tessa on his fae powers. It might have worked too, if the woman hadn’t looked at him, a slow smile emerging on her face. “Oh, he is a pretty one…” She reached out and grabbed Kit’s hand. “You must stay here.”

“Sign the contract,” Hades commanded.

Kit signed.

(Part Two)

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