#remington diamonds

[cuppykin]

The Sisterhood of Feminine Treachery (S.O.F.T.) and their ex member (he transitioned)

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 3: The Ones Who Died Without A Name]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Holiday” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

The Tahoe runs out of gas just west of Ashland, Ohio, coasting to a stop along the shoulder of State Route 96, sapphire skies and cotton ball cumulus clouds, emerald fields of Swiss chard and beets slowly being nibbled bare by deer and rabbits, the inheritors of an abandoned earth.

“Well, that’s it,” Baela says, offhand, blasé, as if it’s not a disaster. You’ve sorted this out, it didn’t take long: there are people who aren’t allowed to panic. If they do, it’ll be like a dam crumbling, and the flood will burst through to drown everything, like when Noah’s wrathful God decided it was time for the world to start over. Baela can’t panic. Aemond can’t panic. And maybe you can’t either. Rio gives you a skeptical look—Are we really about to walk to Oregon?—and you slap his thigh encouragingly as you climb over him and out of the Tahoe.

“Everyone gets a gun,” Aemond says as he starts distributing them: Rugers for Rhaena, Baela, and Helaena (although she winces as she obediently takes the revolver, immediately tucking it away into her burlap messenger bag), .22s for Daeron and Aegon, Remington 12 gauges for Jace and Rio, who gives you his M9. You’re better with it anyway. Aemond’s Glock 20 is in a handmade leather holster he took from the cellar of the house back in Distant, Pennsylvania. Luke, still a potential zombie, will not be armed; but Aemond slings the strap of a .22 over his own shoulder for in case Luke recovers.

“Safeties on, right kids?” Rio goes down the line checking everyone’s gun. “Remember what we practiced, use your sights, don’t go pointing the barrel at anyone unless you’re okay with blowing a hole in them. The noise is risky, but getting bit is worse, so use your best judgment.”

“I don’t have any of that,” Aegon says, grinning.

Rio grabs Aegon’s sunburned face roughly and smacks a kiss onto his cheek. “I know, Honey Bun. Don’t you worry. Stick close and I’ll do your thinking for you.”

You spy it up the road a ways on the right, half-obscured by tree limbs: a white and orange sign, a logo shaped like a diamond. “Oh my God. It’s a Stewart’s.”

“A what?” Aemond asks, squinting at the sign. It’s late afternoon, and soon the sun will be sinking into the west like a drowning man through deep water, and like all prey animals you are restless without the promise of shelter.

“A Stewart’s Root Beer. They used to sell hot dogs and barbeque and all these neat soda flavors like key lime and black cherry. We had one where I grew up. That was the fancy place. You knew it was a good day if you ended up at Stewart’s for dinner.”

Aemond considers you, that subtle ceaseless curiosity. “We can stay the night there.”

“I thought we didn’t want to waste any daylight, Aemond,” Jace jabs as he helps Luke—miserable but presently human—out of the Tahoe. “That’s what you said when I wanted to check out that Barnes & Noble, Aemond.”

“What the hell do you need books for?” Aegon says. He’s grabbing clear CD cases out of the center console of the Tahoe. He pounds on the eject button and then punches the CD player when he realizes he won’t be getting that particular disk back. “Oh, you bitch! I had Shakira on there!”

“I would like to preserve my ability to read at higher than a fifth-grade level. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I was going to work for Sullivan & Cromwell, you know.”

“And now you’re a jobless loser just like me. Isn’t life funny?”

“You can’t be serious,” Baela says to Aegon, his arms full of CD cases. “You’re going to carry all those to California? You don’t even have a way to listen to them.”

“I’m not leaving my mixtapes.” Aegon shoves them into a U.S. Army backpack he found at Fort Indiantown Gap and then hoists it onto his back with a grunt.

Aemond tells Jace: “We only have a few hours until the sun starts going down. We don’t know what’s up ahead. We should take advantage of a safe place to sleep if it’s available. Getting caught out in the open after dark is the worst case scenario.”

“Whatever, Aemond. It’s your call. Everything is your fucking call.” Then Jace plods out into a field of rabbit-ravaged Swiss chard to relieve himself semi-privately, his back to the Tahoe.

“Hey, Chips Ahoy,” Aegon says, taking the folded-up map out of the pocket of his shorts, mint green plaid. “Want to tell me if there are any nuclear power plants near our route so we can steer clear of them and not get irradiated?”

“Uh, well, I don’t exactly have them all memorized…” You examine the map, hoping the black-ink cities will jog your memory, trivia you catalogued years ago, snippets you’ve heard from your fellow seamen. “Perry’s in Cleveland. We won’t be anywhere near that one. Fermi is up by Detroit.” You hesitate as your fingertips skate past Chicago. “Braidwood, LaSalle, and Byron are someplace between Chicago and Peoria, but I’m not sure where. And then there are a few others around the border of Illinois and Iowa. West of that, I don’t know. Rio?”

“Cooper’s in Nebraska, dead east of Lincoln. That’s all I got.”

Aegon is nodding, making notes on his map with a glittery forest green gel pen. “Cool, cool. If I don’t end up eaten or a zombie, I can look forward to being a sterile, glow-in-the-dark mutant.”

Luke frets: “What if we accidentally drink contaminated water or something?”

“Then you die an agonizing death, kiddo,” Rio says. “Your cells dissolve and you turn into human Jello and there’s nothing anybody can do about it.”

Luke swallows noisily. “Awesome.”

“You might just get cancer if the dose is small enough,” you tell him. Luke does not seem pacified. Rhaena gives him a sip of warm Coca-Cola from a plastic bottle from the Wawa.

Jace comes trudging back to the road, zipping up his khaki chino shorts. “Alright, are we ready?”

Helaena is gazing solemnly out over the fields of green leaves, red roots that grow like arteries into the soil. “We should try to find antivenom.”

“Antivenom?” Aemond asks, distracted as he makes sure nothing of importance was left in the Tahoe. The keys are still dangling from the ignition; you won’t need them. There’s no breathing the Tahoe back to life. There’s no returning to Aemond’s house back in Boston. There is only the West, beckoning you to cross rivers and plains and mountains to join her, and to do it as people did two hundred years ago, no cars, no phones, no escape hatches. The only way out is through.

“For the snakes,” Helaena says.

Aemond stares at her. The stitches in his face are dissolving as the flesh weaves back together, jagged maroon scar tissue, beautiful savage ruins, landscapes of improbable survival. “Helaena, antivenom has to be refrigerated. Even if we miraculously found some, it wouldn’t be useable.”

She nods, eyes wide and glazed, still peering into the fields, into the earth.

~~~~~~~~~~

A hand brushing the loose strands of hair out of your face, a whisper through the dissipating indigo of sleep: “Guess what today is.”

You startle awake and yelp as you bolt from your assailant. Aegon is watching you without any shame whatsoever. People are laughing as they gather up supplies so you all can get moving again, brushing teeth, arranging hair, drinking glass bottles of Stewart’s soda found last night in crates in the storeroom, snacking on bags of Utz chips. Sunlight is streaming in through the windows; specks of dust glimmer in the air like comets through the inhospitable void of outer space.

Luke says from where he is sitting on the floor, his arms and legs tethered: “Hopefully the day when somebody’s going to untie me.”

“It’s my birthday!” Aegon announces.

You’re still blinking at him, disoriented. “What…?”

“Aegon, I told you,” Aemond says, sipping a bottle of Stewart’s key lime soda. “It’s not your birthday. It’s not the 23rd.”

“It’s the 20th, right?” Rhaena says.

Rio looks to you, bewildered. “Isn’t it like the 25th?”

“We’re still in June?” Luke says. Now Aemond is hacking through his ropes with a hunting knife from the cellar in Distant, Pennsylvania.

“Your hand is healing up. Your color is good, your temperature is normal. I guess we can officially declare you human for the foreseeable future.”

“I knew it,” Jace says, combative so no one will see the desperate relief underneath.

Aemond examines your hands next, calloused over where the heat of the transmission tower burned the skin. There is no pretext for needing to tend to them any longer, no antiseptic or ointment or gauze. Aemond nods somberly at your palms, as if he isn’t entirely happy to pronounce them cured. His hands linger on yours for slow, unnecessary seconds.

“So what are we going to do special for my birthday?” Aegon presses eagerly.

“We’re going to walk between ten and twenty miles towards California,” Baela says.

“That’s not a birthday activity!”

Daeron groans as he inspects the screws and bolts of his compound bow. “Aegon, it’s not your birthday!”

“Shut up. You can’t even apply to get a credit card.”

“No one can get a credit card now! Currency is worthless!”

Rio offers you a cherries and cream soda. You take it and say: “Aegon, how old are you? On today, your alleged birthday?”

He hesitates. “That’s not the important part.”

Aemond smiles as he tells you, mock-whispering: “He’s thirty.”

“Thirty?!” Rio exclaims. “That’s like, an actual adult age. Marriage and a mortgage, shit like that. What were you doing before everything went insane?”

Aegon gestures vaguely. “I was considering a number of opportunities.”

“He was living on my couch,” Aemond says.

Rio shakes his head, grinning. “No job? No school? No nothing?”

“I wasn’t doing nothing. I played a lot of golf.”

“He was totally doing nothing,” Jace says. “I was in my third year of law school at Harvard, Baela was getting a master’s in Aeronautics and Astronautics at MIT, Rhaena just started an Anthropology PhD, Luke was getting a master’s in Screenwriting at Boston University—he was going to be very sad and very broke, but still, he had a plan—and Aegon was doing…nothing.”

“I’ve never had a real birthday party before,” Aegon tells you; and there is something in his murky blue eyes that is tremendously sad, wounded, childlike. “I might not get another chance.”

“What do you want to do?” Now people are alarmed, skittish glances and mouths open to object. You are encouraging him.

“I don’t know yet,” Aegon says. But he’s glad you bothered to ask. You can see it on his face.

It’s not until several hours later—after noon, the sun high and blazing, everyone’s unpracticed feet aching and blistering in their shoes—that Aegon experiences a revelation like the angel Gabriel appearing to the Virgin Mary or Sir Isaac Newton extrapolating gravity from an apple falling on his head. Aegon’s epiphany appears in the form of a bowling alley in Shenandoah, Ohio called Luxury Lanes. It is remarkably unluxurious, a nondescript black rectangular building with a few doors in the front, one small tinted window on each, and no other openings. To Aegon, it is an oasis in a desert.

“I want to go bowling!”

“Aegon, we’re not going bowling,” Baela says, breathing heavily but trying to hide it, her hands massaging the small of her back. Aemond is watching her worriedly. Baela is the only person not burdened with carrying any supplies beyond her hammer and shiny new Ruger—and she resisted this accommodation at first—but still, she suffers more than anyone.

“Once again, it is my birthday—”

“Aren’t bowling allies soundproofed?” Rio asks Aemond. “You know, so they don’t get noise complaints?”

“Uh, I guess so…?”

“It’s kind of a fortress, isn’t it?” Rio continues. “Not many ways in or out. We wouldn’t be seen or heard. Might be a good place to stop for the night. ”

“Yeah!” Aegon says. “Right, Aemond?”

Aemond looks at you. It takes you a moment to figure out why. “I think the bowling alley is a good idea,” you tell him. “It’ll be safe, assuming we can clear it. And Aegon can have his party.”

Aemond is skeptical. “A party?”

“Survival isn’t just about not dying. It’s also about holding onto the things that make us human.”

“Like bowling!” Rhaena says excitedly. “It’s preserving a tradition! And I used to be so good at bowling. I bowled a 250 game once.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Aegon says, still delighted to have her on his side.

“There’s a sign for a Walmart maybe half a mile up the road,” Daeron points out. “We could search it for supplies and then double back here.”

Aemond polls the audience. Everyone agrees.

Shenandoah is tiny, rural, religious, and out of the way from the major highways. The Walmart doors are chained shut with padlocks, and amazingly no one has taken that as an invitation to drive their car through them or otherwise shatter the glass yet. Rio is honored to be the first. He takes the butt of his Remington shotgun and punches through the glass of the locked doors, kicks away loose shards, whistles and shouts to lure out any zombies. A dozen of them come reeling out of the aisles and towards the doorway. Daeron shoots down most of them with his compound bow. Rio kills two with the butt of his Remington, his new favorite toy. Aegon, the birthday boy, uses his golf club to beat in the skull of a teenager who is still wearing glittery pink nail polish and fake eyelashes. According to her nametag, her friends and family once called her Raelynn.

Inside the Walmart, Jace and Aemond take one side of the store, you and Rio the other, doing a quick sweep to make sure you didn’t miss any undead employees or customers waiting for the chance to sink their teeth into you. And when that’s done, you begin shopping.

The shelves are probably two-thirds empty, but there are still treasures to be found. You push carts through the aisles and fill them with candles, lighters, Chef Boyardee, Doritos, canned soup, fruit snacks, tuna pouches, 5 gum, bottles of Snapple, socks and underwear, hair ties, t-shirts and shorts, Kleenex tissues, pads and tampons, toilet paper. Baela finds some cute maternity dresses. Helaena picks through the pharmacy for useful medications, Aemond shadowing her with a baseball bat in his hands and his Glock at his waist.

“Chips, they got Cheddar Whales!” Rio exclaims, tossing several boxes into your cart.

“I miss grocery stores,” Rhaena says as she climbs the shelves to get the last box of Teddy Grahams.

“I miss going to the mall and getting Auntie Anne’s pretzel nuggets,” Aegon commiserates. Then he stumbles upon the liquor aisle and his eyes light up like high beams. “Aemond!”

Aemond appears—perhaps a bit flustered—and deliberates for a while as he browses the selection, Aegon waiting anxiously, before he decides: “Since it is allegedly your birthday, you can drink tonight. And you can pick one other person to drink with you. But only one.”

“Rio,” Aegon says immediately.

“Come on!” Daeron whines.

Aegon is already putting bottles of Captain Morgan rum into a cart. “Sorry. Illegal. Underage.”

“I’ve helped you butcher countless zombies, but I can’t drink?!”

“Just Say No, as Nancy Reagan would tell an innocent child such as yourself.”

Jace strides over, sly and playful, gnawing on a Twizzler. “Aemond, were you over there rummaging through the medicine aisles again? What do you keep looking for? Condoms?”

There is an awkward silence, an extremely awkward silence. Aemond glares at Jace. Jace’s eyes go wide.

“Oh, I, uh…I was definitely joking. But…congrats on the possible future sex!”

“I already checked,” Luke tells Aemond apologetically. “You know condoms were the first thing to get bought up or looted everywhere.”

“Okay, great,” Aemond says quickly, willing the conversation to be over. There is blood, hot and mortified, flaring in his cheeks. He was thinking of you, he had to be; the only other single woman here is his sister, and obviously that’s not an option.

Jace takes another bite of his Twizzler. “Just pull out, man.”

Baela, incredulous, gestures to her belly. “Because that worked out super well for us.”

“I told you to stop riding me!”

“Yeah, a whole two seconds before you impregnated me with your super-swimmer Michael Phelps sperm.”

“Please don’t make me listen to this,” Luke begs. “I’m starting to wish I really was bitten.”

“Don’t you know all the tricks to not getting someone pregnant, Aemond?” Jace says. “Wasn’t that going to be your specialty? You wanted to be a vagina doctor? So don’t you know all the mysteries of the vagina, Aemond?”

“He was going to be an OB/GYN,” Baela says, unamused.

“Really?” Rio turns to Aemond. “Why would you want to do that?”

“So he gets to look at pussies all day,” Aegon says morosely, as if heartbroken that such a path is inaccessible to him.

“That’s not why,” Aemond insists, mostly to you.

You smile. “I didn’t think so. What’s the actual reason?”

“Interns do rotations in different departments so we can figure out what we enjoy and what we’re best suited for. I knew within two days of my OB/GYN rotation that that’s where I wanted to be. Giving birth is the only life-threatening trauma that is necessary for humanity to continue. I wanted to help people get through it as safely and painlessly as possible.” Then his gaze darts to Baela. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound worse—”

“No, it’s okay, I’m very much aware. It hurts like hell, people die. Believe me, I’d be thinking about that even if you hadn’t said it. I think about it all the time.”

“I have an idea you’re not going to like.”

“What?” Baela says. Aemond nods to the nearest shopping cart. “No way. You’re not going to push me around in one of those.”

“I believe it’s an adequate solution until an alternative appears.”

She sighs. “I’ve lost my body, my career, my society, my parents…must I lose my dignity too?”

Aemond winks. “Only when you’re too tired to walk.”

“Alright, Aemond. I realize you’re under the impression that this is a favor. So thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“Let me give you a favor in return.” Then Baela begins shooing everyone except you and Aemond out of the liquor aisle. “Grab anything else you want, we’re leaving in five minutes! Jace, come look at the baby clothes with me…”

When the two of you are alone, Aemond says: “I really hope that didn’t make you feel too weird. I’m not someone who gets uncomfortable about the…um…the subject matter in general. But I wouldn’t want you to think that I was trying to…I don’t know. Assume anything or pressure you into something that you weren’t already open to. Obviously I like…um…I mean, enthusiastic consent is essential, and I just…I would never try to convince anybody or…you know what, I’m just going to stop talking now. Okay?”

“Aemond, I’m fine. I didn’t think it was weird.”

“It’s a compliment,” he confesses, flushing pink again, touching his chin, perspiration gleaming at his temples.

Now you have to show interest so he knows you’re on the same page. You’ve never had to think this way before, you’ve never liked anyone enough to play the game. “So hypothetically, if someone didn’t want to get pregnant but there were no condoms, pills, etcetera…what are the options?”

He looks at you, pleasantly surprised. “Well, there’s the rhythm method. It’s not perfect, but it’s been around forever and is reasonably reliable if done correctly.”

You are only vaguely familiar. “We didn’t get a lot of sex ed down in Kentucky.”

Aemond chuckles then leans in, a mischievous curl of his lips, a craving in the crystalline river blue of his eye. He grips the shelf above your head, his arm a canopy. His voice is hushed. The front windows of the Walmart face west where the sun is setting; golden light floods in to illuminate the store. “Is your cycle regular?”

“It is, actually.” This should be embarrassing, but it’s not; it’s exhilarating. You’re imagining him seeing you, touching you, unearthing secrets you’ve never been tempted to share with anyone else.

“So if we imagine it like a circle…” He draws one on the back of your hand, invisible, mesmerizing, blue-white lightning crackling up the path of your metacarpals, wrist, ulna and radius, humerus and clavicle, descending ribs like the rungs of a ladder to jolt the sinus rhythm of your heart. “The start of your period would be Day One.”

“Okay,” you say, hypnotized as his fingerprint skates in an arc across the bumps of your knuckles.

“Ovulation doesn’t happen until around Day Fourteen. You might have noticed some increased arousal and…wetness. Clear in color, elastic consistency.”

Your eyes are trapped in his face, smooth skin, jagged scar tissue. You tease him back, stepping closer. You can hear people snickering in the next aisle as they eavesdrop. You don’t care about them, and neither does Aemond anymore. “Now that you mention it…”

“That’s nature trying to trick you into reproducing. Day Fourteen is crunch time. Once ovulation occurs, the egg is only good for up to twenty-four hours. And then the rest of the cycle you’re effectively useless, as far as making miniature humans is concerned.”

“Wait, you’re telling me people can only get pregnant one day a month?” This seems improbable. “How has the species managed to survive this long?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Aemond admits. “Depending on the health of the specimens, sperm can survive up to five days inside a woman’s body. And it’s difficult to tell exactly when ovulation occurs. So, in practice, there’s basically one week a month when you’d want to avoid a man…completing the act, if you will.” He’s still smiling, taunting, famished, imagining the same scenes you are. You know this with a categorical certainty, as if you’re reading his thoughts like stark stripes of distance on a measuring tape. “And that’s also the week when your hormones are demanding you have sex, inspiring you to make all sorts of impulsive yet extremely consequential decisions.”

“Don’t I know it,” Baela laments from the next aisle, and there is a rupture of wild giggles.

“Anyway.” Aemond lifts his finger from the back of your hand and you have to stop yourself from reaching for him as he recedes from you. “There’s a basic overview.”

“It was very educational.” You follow him out of the liquor aisle.

“I’ve used the rhythm method for years,” Rhaena says as everyone makes their way towards the front of the store with their carts. “Clearly that’s just anecdotal, so don’t think I’m officially endorsing it. When I’m in my fertile week we add condoms. Well…we used to. Back when we could get them.”

“Ugh, I hate condoms,” Baela grumbles.

“We can tell,” Aegon says.

“I hate the way they feel, I hate the way they smell…”

“They’ve never bothered me,” Rhaena says. “I don’t notice that much of a difference. And it can be fun to try different kinds.”

“Are you on drugs?” Baela whirls to you. “Seriously, what is wrong with her? I’m right, aren’t I? Condoms are awful.”

Rio gives you a cautious look, uncharacteristically reticent. He’s not going to be the one to reveal it. He doesn’t know if it’s something you’re willing to share. But if anything is going to happen with Aemond—and you want it to, already you know you want him—then it’s something you think you should be honest about. You want him to know about you. You don’t want to have to create some false version of yourself to wear like a pelt, heavy, smothering, something that will inevitably need to be taken off.

“I am regretfully not qualified to say.”

“You’ve never used condoms?” Baela asks, a bit dubious.

“I’ve never done any of it.”

Everyone freezes at the defunct checkout counters and turns to gawk at you. “No sex?” Jace says. “No nothing?”

You shrug, smiling a little self-consciously. “I made out with a guy once.”

“The Marine from Corpus Christi?” Baela asks. They’re obsessed with him, they’re convinced there’s some lore to be excavated, translated, displayed like a relic in a museum. There isn’t. Sometimes people pass in and out of your life as seamlessly as shadows or sunlight, no weight, no indentations, nothing to recall or relay. He existed and then he didn’t. He was an airplane drawing contrails in the sky that faded before the blood red fire of dusk filled the horizon.

“No. Someone from home. Just a guy, not even worth mentioning.”

“Girl, you gotta fix that, soon, pronto, like yesterday.” Jace seems genuinely horrified. “You can’t die a virgin.”

“You really can’t,” Daeron adds, and Aegon pretends to be distraught over the loss of his youngest brother’s virtue.

“That’s what I’m always telling her!” Rio says.

“Not everybody wants to have sex,” Helaena murmurs as she records today’s findings in her spider notebook.

“True,” Jace concedes. “And that is totally legit. Mother Teresa, Queen Elizabeth, Jesus Christ, Buddha, Joan of Arc, Sir Isaac Newton, Nikola Tesla, the Jonas Brothers for a while, all great people. But Chips is not celibate by choice, correct?”

“Buddha had a wife and son,” Aemond says, preoccupied. He isn’t looking at you now, which is concerning; he’s peering down at where his hands grip his shopping cart, his brow creased with…what is that? Unease, disapproval, concern, thoughtfulness, fear?

“It’s not some big thing,” you backpedal. “I don’t have a hangup about it, I just never met a guy I liked enough, and enlisted men, they’re…well, a lot of them are taken, or cheaters, or idiots. Or all three.”

“Not to worry, Chipper.” Aegon claps a hand on your shoulder; and you aren’t sure if it is his purpose to break the tension, but he seems to have that effect regardless. “If you ever wish to be initiated into the art of lovemaking by a slightly below average and entirely unintimidating penis, I’d be thrilled to assist you. I love condoms. But in their absence, I am the king of pulling out. 100% success rate. Zero bastard children running around to my knowledge.”

“You should give Jace lessons,” Baela says.

And the last thing Aegon takes from the Walmart is a green battery-powered Toshiba CD player so he can blast to his mixtapes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Flickering candles lining the middle lane, drinks and snacks strewn across the tables, Rio’s Moonbeam propped up so it’s aimed at the disco ball still hanging from the ceiling from a time before the dead started devouring the living. Daeron is at the end of the lanes to reset the pins after each player’s turn. Helaena is keeping score in her notebook; Rhaena is currently in the lead by a massive 80 points. Aegon is wasted, dancing on a table and crunching Cool Ranch Doritos beneath his bare feet, his blonde hair flopping. Each time it’s his turn to bowl, Aegon has to roll the ball down the lane with two hands like a child. Rio, several shots deep but unable to feel much shy of half a bottle, is singing along with him to Cruise by Florida Georgia Line, but it’s really more like shouting, each sentence an off-key monstrosity that makes you laugh.

“Baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!

Down a back road, blowin’ stop signs through the middle, every little farm town with you!

And this brand new Chevy with a lift kit, would look a hell of a lot better with you up in it!

So baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!”

You cleared Luxury Lanes easily; the only difficult part was figuring out how to get into the area called the pit where, in normal times, felled pins were mechanically collected and sorted. There were two former employees roaming around back there in their tattered uniforms, snarling and drooling blood. Both were rapidly neutralized.

Someone always has to be by the front doors, watching through the small tinted windows for signs of trouble, whether from zombies or living humans. Aemond is currently on guard, nursing a Snapple. According to the bottle, the flavor is called Takes 2 To Mango. You grab your own Snapple—plain and simple Lemon Tea, no charming gimmicks—and walk over to join him.

“So now I guess it’s my turn to say I hope that conversation didn’t make you feel weird.”

He smiles politely, glancing out the window. “No, I’m completely fine.”

“Good. Because I don’t want you to look at me differently than you would any other girl, like I’m better than them, or worse than them, or like there’s anything wrong with me, because it really isn’t something I consider to be paramount to my identity, and people always seem to get all twisted up about it, but it’s a pretty boring story, I just…”

“You’ve never liked someone enough to take the risk. I get it. I don’t think you’re a freak or anything.”

“Okay. Good.” The next song on Aegon’s mixtape is Shaboozey’s A Bar Song. Jace is dancing with Baela, spinning her around as she giggles. With Rhaena’s coaching, Luke bowls his first strike. You rest your head on the door as you gaze up at Aemond, the phantom of a smile on your lips. “I might like you enough.”

And he says as if it’s the worst thing in the world, a plague, an infection, an apocalypse: “You’d fall in love with me.”

It hurts, of course it does, this flippant rejection. He burns you, he cuts you, he stitches you up with no anesthetic. You try not to show it. “You’re…confident.”

“No, I don’t mean because of anything specific I would do, it’s just…it’s natural to form a certain…attachment. To the first person you’re with. It leaves an impression.” Not an impression like a first judgment, superficial and swift; an impression like an imprint, a hollow, a prehistoric fossil that is preserved through eons. “That was already true before. And everything is more intense now, because life is so…” Aemond takes a while to settle on a word. “Precarious.”

You say like a challenge: “Are you still in love with the first girl you slept with?”

A shadow that ripples through his face, a flinching he tries to hide. You shouldn’t have asked. Still, you feel like you need to know, like you’ll run out of oxygen if you don’t. “I think I’ve gotten enough distance from it to realize that she wasn’t…wasn’t good for me in a lot of ways. It was an unconventional situation. But I still carry all these pieces of her around with me, yes. I don’t think that will ever go away.”

“Aemond,” you say gently. “Who was she?”

He is evasive, smirking. “It’s a cliché.”

“Was she a patient? That’s very Grey’s Anatomy of you.”

“No. She was my professor.”

An older woman, wise and experienced and captivating and sophisticated. He’s cut you again, a blade slicing effortlessly through veins like soft butter. “Oh. From med school?”

“Undergrad.”

“You were really young,” you say, a little startled.

He nods. “I was eighteen when it started. I was this shy, insecure, friendless freshman, she was married with two kids around my age. And it was off and on, but there was never anyone else for me, she took up too much space in my head, in my chest, like I couldn’t breathe unless I knew we were okay.”

“It went on for seven years?”

This seems to stun him, hearing how much of his existence she bottled like a terrarium. “I guess so.”

Is she dead? Missing? Safe somewhere with her husband and kids? “Is she…gone?”

His gaze drops to the floor. “Yeah.”

“Did you see it happen?”

“I was the one who killed her when she turned.”

It’s indescribably horrible; you don’t know what to say. “Aemond, I’m…I’m really sorry…”

He is abruptly nonchalant, the blue of his eye cool and dispassionate. “Look, I’m not prepared for this to be anything more than casual. And I don’t think casual is really in the cards for us. So it’s probably best to leave it alone.”

“Right,” you agree numbly, not meaning it.

“We’re headed different places, I’m going to California, you’re planning to end up in Oregon, it’s just…a bad idea to muddy the waters, I think.”

“Because I haven’t done this before.”

He shrugs ambiguously. “It’s a contributing factor.”

“Well you seemed pretty interested before you found that out, so.”

“I don’t mean to offend you.”

“You aren’t offending me. You’re disappointing me.”

Now Aemond is offended. “By trying to protect us?”

“No, by saying you don’t think I’m a freak when you clearly do, and by having some savior complex, or a whore-Madonna complex, or whatever’s going on in your head, it’s always such a mystery to everyone else.”

He downs the rest of his Snapple and shoves the bottle into the nearest trash can. You hear it thump against the bottom, no garbage bag. “Alright. This was fun.”

“Maybe you’re afraid of making a mistake, just like I always was.”

“Maybe I don’t want to have to teach you how to do everything,” Aemond snaps.

“I taught you how to shoot.”

“The fact that you don’t realize how wildly different those two situations are proves you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, bye. Sorry about your zombie girlfriend.”

Aemond glares at you, shocked, furious. “That was so fucking low.”

It was. You regret it. But you can’t bring yourself to tell him that. You flee to the far end of the bowling alley and sit alone at a table draped in shadows. After a while, Rio notices and ventures over to see what’s wrong, a bottle of Captain Morgan swinging from one hand. He’s tipsy now.

Rio sighs as he takes a seat beside you, reaching over to rub your back. His hands are large and indelicate; what he means to be comforting is more like getting manhandled. Sometimes he leaves bruises, but it’s not his fault. Nature gave Rio the body of a killer. If anyone is going to survive the zombie apocalypse, it’s him. “What’s going on, Chips?”

Your voice breaks as you say it; tears sting in your eyes. “I hate caring about people.”

He bursts out laughing. “Yeah, it’s the worst, isn’t it? But once in a while it works out.”

“Bryan.”

And now he knows you’re serious. You have his full attention, large dark eyes fixed on your face, lines etching into his brow beneath the artificial starlight of the disco ball. “What are you asking me?”

“We can’t leave them and walk to the West Coast ourselves, can we?”

“I mean, technically we could, but it would be really stupid. Everything’s so much easier with ten people. And also I think I’d have to kidnap Aegon and take him with us, I love that little dude. Why? Do you really want to leave them?”

“No.”

“I figured.” He offers you the half-empty bottle of Captain Morgan.

“I’m not drinking that.”

“Come on. It’ll take the edge off.”

You look at him. Rio looks back, smiling now.

“I’ll watch out for you,” he says. “And if you get bit I’ll shoot you dead, no hesitation, swear to God. I remember our promise. I won’t let you die alone.”

“You’re a good guy.”

“I know.” He nudges your arm with the bottle of Captain Morgan. “A few swigs won’t hurt. It’ll help you sleep.”

You take the bottle, twist off the cap, drink down amber-gold poison that burns like gasoline, like fire.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

300 Follower Celebration Lorepost — Ceredell!!

Welcome back to another episode of Worldbuilding™! So happy to have new followers, and I can't wait to bore y'all with more world building!

Without further ado, let's begin!

Ceredell is one of the most complex regions in Triworld, with a vast history and more gore than the average slasher movie. Once upon a time, it was a flowering, forested region much like many others, whose name was lost to time. But one day, Terras, an artificer, discovered a way to generate magic. He thought to make his home flourish, and in the manner of mad scientists everywhere, endeavoured to do so by turning himself into a god.

He was successful. So successful, in fact, that he managed to wreck the whole of Ceredell, send it careening into a cursed land, and turn himself into the Void, in the process. (Read about that mess here) From that sunny, cheerful moment onwards, most bodies of water in the region that would come to be called were poisoned, things came out of the sea-turned-Void, and people died by the thousands. It grew so bad that in the northern provinces, living beings had all but died out.

That changed when a group of adventurers, led by fifth Prince Remington I of the southern kingdom Olip-Olep, decided to venture into and reclaim the cursed lands. There, they discovered that, while horrible things had sprouted across the lowlands, and fishing in the sea produced masses of rotting corpses, the mountains held something that made it all worthwhile: Soulstones.

Soulstones were an (up until then) incredibly rare gem that could store magical capacity. Much like diamonds formed under pressure, the concentration of magic was such that regular stone had been turned to soulstone, both sucking the worst of the curse out of the mountains and providing a foundation for an expanded Kingdom. So Remington I plopped himself in the long-abandoned castle of a king whose name has been forgotten (and named it something that has also long been forgotten), gleefully imported people over from Losaras and Olip-Olep, and set about to creating his new Kingdom.

Now, unbeknownst to him at the time, the tunnels he declared ‘mines’ were already inhabited, by spirits. They were a people made from the cursed dead, imbued with immortality, translucency, and more murder in their hearts than any mortal had previously seen. In their language, they had named the land Ceredell, or Mountain-home. King Remington I took that name from them, much like he took their homes and means of living. The spirits were, quite naturally, furious at the mortals' intrusion, forming the basis of a rivalry that would culminate in the Lich-Queen's coronation.

Though they fought valiantly, the humans overwhelmed their numbers, and the spirits were forced to flee to other lands. But that is a story for another day. 

King after King ruled the region, with a few Queens scattered in for good measure, the people of Ceredell came to find ways of surviving in the unforgiving lands of Ceredell, and life went on. They turned the river corpseflesh into stew, carved runes to float their cities far above the carnivorous monsters, and turned their undead homeland into a sanctuary. 

Then it all went wrong. The Void, all-knowing, all-seeing, all-traces of Terras gone, got its hands on three youths. Two sisters and a young man, each having strayed too close to Void. The two girls were found by guard-hunters, lost and precocious beyond belief. The elder sister, in particular, had the far-sight of an Oracle, and so the captain of the party brought her back to the castle. They took the little sister along for the ride, not suspecting it would be their downfall.

The girls were named Ramaeria, after wisdom, and Iraela, after the corpse-tree forest they were found in. Both names turned out to be accurate. 

Ramaeria grew up to be an Oracle of the highest calibre, gifted the world on a platter by the King. Her one flaw was her softness, her love for the cruel crown prince and her still crueller sister. She had seen their ends, seen how easy it would be to drown her blood and save the Kingdom, but could not. No, she watched her only family grow up from afar, too poisoned by fear to reach out and too struck with love to kill her.

Iraela grew up bitter and hateful, friend only to death and the books that lined the old library. Her very blood boiled with death, and the ability to reverse it. She looked out of her castle tower and saw her Queendom in the monsters that prowled the wilderness and the leafless trees. So, when she finally came into her powers, she struck without a second thought, to claim the throne she considered her right.

I could tell you the rest of the story of Iraela and the Lich-Queen she would become, but that would be spoiling you, would it not? Go read it here instead.

Now, an observant reader would notice the mention of a third figure: the man. Who was he? Why was he? What gift-curse did he receive from the Void? I have an answer for each of those.

The man was Maizen, Shatterer of Worlds, gifted a berserk fury and bloodlust that rivalled the Lich-Queen's. When she drank soup and dreamed of her heritage, he paved the way for her, scything through the southern cities of Ceredell, ripping society apart with wanton glee. One cannot truly say if Iraela could have taken over Ceredell without his help, if the forces of undeath would have been sufficient without the whirlwind of murder. One thing is for sure, however: He took a massive bite out of the armed forces of Ceredell.

Between the three fated ones and their choices (or lack thereof), Ceredell fell within two decades. All that remained were the Deadlands, home of ghouls, revenants, and the berserker bloodline, ruled over by an eternally vengeful Lich-Queen.

I suppose you could call it a bad ending. The spirits would disagree, however. The mortals who had taken their home from them, had gotten their just desserts at last. The ghouls would disagree too. They had finally found a home and a generous Queen. The berserkers, some Void-touched, some wanderers from lands that could not accept their curse, were grateful for a land that adored their blood-thirst.

For many, the Void was a saviour. Terras had achieved his goal, in a roundabout way. He had brought magic to the realm, and made it thrive. The locals weren't who he might have anticipated, and the route it took to get there sure did have a lot of genocide, but the outcome was as he wished for.

So, I suppose it might well serve a warning to you all— Be careful for what you wish for, for you might just get it.

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[mara-and-its-the-same]

(center Tangerine icon by @cherriedt that was linked on pinterest, and the rest of them are just from pinterest :/, and the pictures of the necklace and the dress aren't meant to show the reader, just the kind of outfit I was picturing, it just happened to be Dua Lipa's met gala necklace and Lady Gaga)

Requested by my love and my life (but I forgot to put this under that and I'm in too deep) @loving-and-dreaming thank you for everything you've ever sent me, asked me, or tagged me in <33<333 Warnings: None graphic violence, bruising, bleeding, language (duh), smoking and sickeningly rich people el oh el WC: 2.7k and not proof read

When your mother invited you to one of her friends’ charity galas, this is hardly how you expected the night to go. You slipped into that black velvet gown that she offered you, with the perfect neckline to show off the necklace that was a gift from both your parents for your last birthday. The one with the fat diamond right in the center. It was certainly the gem to talk about. It even made quite a few headlines. 

And it was certainly the talk of tonight, with half the conversations you had almost certainly leading to their eyes being drawn to your chest within the first 30 seconds. And for a masquerade, it was quite hard to remain anonymous when the thing was practically a shimmering name tag. Which was a fact you came to regret sooner rather than later. 

About an hour after you arrived, after finding your table with your parents and greeting your friends, another masked man asked you to dance. He was tall, with quite the head of thick brown hair, and a hell of a mustache. But there was something about him that you couldn’t quite place, as you made polite conversation on the ballroom floor. His accent, maybe. 

“May I ask where you’re from?”

“Oh well, that’s hardly the point of a masquerade now, love.” You spun away on cue and he drew you back in. “It’s about the mystery.” And with that the waltz ended with his chest against your back and your breathing heavier than it has been with any other partner that night. You tried to clear your throat quietly, with the way he was breathing down your neck. He was so overwhelming, what with his deep blue suit in such subtle contrast to the sea of black you were swimming in, and the strength of his arms that he didn’t use against you, but with you as he led you through the dance. 

You twirled out of his arms and bowed along with the rest of the ladies on the floor. You nodded in gratitude for the dance then left to go find your friends with a shake of your head. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.”

“Looking a little winded there,” your closest, and most likely only true friend, Remington (or Remy to you), offered you her arm as you aimed for the restroom in hopes of a chance to catch your breath. Once inside, you reached into one of your deep pockets that were hiding beneath the voluminous fabrics of your skirt to pull out a small pack of cigarettes. You slipped one of the few remaining sticks between your lips and fumbled through your other pocket for the lighter you couldn’t reach. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“You have a better one?” Remy sighed and took her zippo out of her little handbag. “Thank you, dahlin’,” you put on an accent like the man you’d danced with.

“Ooh, so you’ve met the mysterious gentleman.”

“Dance with him too.”

“Oh my.”

“Oh yes.” You looked over your makeup in the mirror and checked your hair. 

“Why does it smell like cherries?”

“They’re flavored.”

“That’s literally worse than smoking on its own.”

“I know but…cherries.” You took a final drag then stamped it out on the side of the sink and brushed the ashes down the drain. “Alright, gotta go get yelled at by my mother.” 

You both gave each other salutes before you went back out into the hall and she went into a stall. There was a strange sound coming from around the other corner of the hallway towards the ballroom. It was most likely some sleazy billionaires’ sons thinking much higher of themselves than anyone should, so it was best to move on back to your table. 

The whole time you sat there, you’d often catch eyes with the mysterious man from earlier. You didn’t see him dance with anyone else, but when you looked at him and looked like you meant to really look at him, and leaned back in your chair, he took that as a sign to ask you for another dance.  

He wordlessly offered you his hand, which you took with more grace than he’s ever seen. He led you to the floor with a hand on the small of your back and you both assumed your positions for the most intimate dance of the night, it wasn’t too fast but it was very intricate and required you to trust your partner.

The music started and he was the best partner you’ve ever had. The way he lead you was perfect, every dip was like being held as a feather, every lift felt like floating, and every step was like walking on water. “You smell like cherries…and smoke.” He said as he brought you down from the lift.

“Hmm.”

“Didn’t think to share?”

“Didn’t think you’d be interested.” You slid your hand over his left shoulder as the dance required and flicked his gold hoop with your finger.

“How’d you learn to dance like this?” He spun you out again and 

“Swiss boarding school,” you answered as if it was obvious. 

“Figures.” You didn’t see the way he looked down at your necklace over your shoulder, you felt it more. “Dance with me again, love?” He turned his head so you felt his words too.

You hummed a yes and resumed your positions. 3 dances later, he tilted his head to one of the doorways that lead to a vast balcony. You nodded in agreement and took the arm he offered. 

Once you were out there, alone, the only sounds were the busy city below you and the flick of his lighter behind you. You braced your hands on the railing behind you and watched the way the light of the small flame refracted through his eyes like a kaleidoscope. Once he brought his hand down you saw the slim cigarette and then smelt the cherries that followed. “That’s not yours.”

He put that hand down next to you on the railing and stood right in front of you, almost caging you in. “It’s much nicer to share, love.”

“You expect me to share my things when you won’t even share your name?”

“I don’t recall you tellin me yours either.”

“Didn’t think I had to.”

“Really?” His accent seemed more present now when he was all you could hear, not the music or the bustling crowd. “She’s that sure of herself, eh?”

“I can’t help it if most people, especially in a crowd like this, know who I am. Are you telling me you don’t?”

He used his other hand to flick the ashes off over the railing, now really caging you in. You took it from him when he was bringing it up to his mouth, drawing a smooth breath while he gave you a disapproving twitch of his mustache. He didn’t answer your question beyond a shrug. 

“I can’t even get a first name out of you? Nothing?”

“How’s Tangerine?”

You smirked with a scoff of a laugh, he didn’t look very happy with that. “Like the fruit?”

“Yes, like the–”

“Your mother named you after a little orange?”

“She didn’t– No, it’s an alias.”

“Ooh, a code name then?”

“Yes.”

“What for? You hiding from something?”

“In a sense.”

“I think you’d have to be. A fake name and a mask, I think you mean business.”

“And what do you fancy that business is?” He traced a finger down your collarbone to the chain of your necklace until he reached the large stone resting on your chest. Usually, such a thing, focusing only on the jewelry, would be an absolute turnoff. But for some reason, it was different when he did it.

“I’d say something–” You were cut off by a strange figure moving at the other end of the balcony. “What was…” It was his turn to smirk at that as another man emerged from the shadows. He was a little bit taller than “Tangerine,” and his coily hair was bleached almost to white besides the roots, but he had the same earring. 

“Evenin’, I’m Lemon.”

You rolled your eyes at what your night has come to, you knew better than to go anywhere with strangers with masks and no name. “Oohh, Lemon and Tangerine, clever,” you bit sarcastically and pushed Tangerine off of you a little harder than he must have been expecting with the way he stumbled back.

Lemon looked at Tangerine like he expected such a reaction. “Listen, love,–”

“I’m not your ‘love’,” you mocked his accent and Tangerine tilted his head with his eyebrows raised and his lips in a thin straight line. With a wave of your hand, you let him go on.

“You’re gonna keep the mask on, we’ll walk outta here, real calm, and it’ll all be over soon.”

“I’d really rather not.” You went to take a step back inside but Tangerine caught your arm. Again, really not how you wanted your night to go. You rolled your head to the side and looked at him like he was boring you. You wrenched your arm from his grip and Lemon tried to catch you too, but you ducked under that and landed a swing to Tangerine’s cheek, knocking his mask to the ground. This was one of those rare occasions that he looked better under the mask, but there was no time to dwell on that when he lunged towards you. You dodged that as well, but it was difficult for them to keep you away from the doors and windows so no one inside would notice, and it was difficult for you to watch both of them at once and also move in such a dress. 

It was quite a tussle, “Where did you learn to fuckin fight like this?!” Tangerine groaned as you had one arm around his neck and the other under his arm coming over yours, only restricting him as much as you needed to get him to stop. 

“Swiss boarding school.”

Lemon huffed with his hands on his knees then stepped towards you. You pushed Tangerine at him and ran to the nearest door. Just as you were stepping into the ballroom, hair a mess and cheek smudged with makeup and blood from one of Tangerine’s rings, someone stepped in front of you and blocked your path. It a second to recognize them but with a blink it was all too clear. Remy pushed you back and Tangerine had you by both wrists behind you. 

“Let’s go then,” she said definitively, making you laugh. “What?” She barked.

“Like this? As if everyone isn’t looking at me anyway, I think they might if I look like this.”

“You don’t look any worse than usual.”

“Remington, that is a ridiculous thing to say, and no, I mean people might fucking notice if I look like I’m being kidnapped.”

She nodded to the man behind you and after a sharp strike to the back of your head, you were out.

***

You woke with a twitch of your nose and a throbbing pain to your left cheek and right temple. There was a tickling on your eyelid that made you want to sneeze, and you could feel the cold of the bathroom tile through your skirts. “Stop moving.”

“Can I fucking breathe for a second? Jesus Christ.” She backed off from you and held up the makeup brushes in annoyed surrender. 

“Put the mask back on, then we’ll go.”

“Go where?”

“It might be easier if you stay quiet, love.”

You went to push yourself up but your hands were restrained behind your back so you you suffered with turning your aching neck to look at Tangerine instead, noticing his tie was missing. “Might be easier if you let me go, and you kidnap literally anyone any less recognizable.”

He cracked his knuckles and looked like he was going to step towards you but Lemon held him back and started talking about what sounded like Thomas the Tank Engine. The choo choo’s Lemon was saying were not helping their case. 

Remington grabbed your chin and looked you over. “You look fine. Put your mask on.” She threw it at you then seemed angry when you didn’t act immediately. Tangerine came behind you and lifted you up and Lemon stood in front and did your mask. In all their years, he had to have been the least professional of all their clientele. 

“Is this how you typically spend your Saturdays?”

“Kidnapping ridiculously rich women for other ridiculously rich women?” Lemon asked and you nodded. “It’s usually our day off.”

“You were a special case.” Tangerine said as he untied your wrists and redid his tie. 

“How sweet.” You shook out your wrists and Remington took you through back through the halls leading to the ballroom. 

You want to run up to one of the guards or guests or literally anyone, you want to throw elbows and break Remington’s jaw, but you don’t know what they have on them, you don’t know if they’re working with anyone else. It’s best to go along with it and keep everyone else safe, just keep your wits about you and your head high. It’s not like you were particularly visible at the moment, walking close to the wall with Tangerine on your left and Lemon on the right between you and the rest of the crowd with both your hands in the crook of their elbows. Your face must have betrayed the depth of your thoughts since Tangerine put his other hand on top of yours, funny of him to try and comfort you when he’s more than aiding in your kidnapping. “Where's the smile? They're going to think I'm holding you hostage, honey.” 

“Sorry.” You tried to find some humor in his sarcasm but the reality was tumbling at you too fast and your cheek was beginning to bruise. 

“Like I said, it’ll be over soon.” 

There was a black car waiting outside, and at least Lemon held the door open for you to get in the back seat then helped make sure none of your skirt got caught in the door. He sat with you and Tangerine drove while Remington sat in the passenger seat. It was hard to stifle a scoff when she tried to put her hand on his wrist as he shifted, only for him to immediately bring it back to the wheel. It was a busy European city, difficult to navigate its crowded streets but he managed. 

“Can you roll down the window a little bit? I need some air.” You asked sweetly, meekly so they might be more inclined to acquiesce. Besides the initial fight and your sharp tongue, Tangerine thought you’d been quite cooperative, so he lowered it a few inches.

Just enough space for you to unclasp your necklace and throw it out the window. It was at that horrific moment that the car slowed down exponentially and in the instant Remington saw what you did she let out a horrific scream. Yelling “What the fuck is wrong with you, you bitch?!?!?” at the top of her lungs like you threw her ten million dollar necklace out the window, not your own. She jumped out the car to go find it and slammed the door behind her just as the traffic was letting up.

“Did she pay you already?” You said hurriedly.

“You think we’d be dealing with her shit if she didn’t.”

“So you’ll drive?”

“To get away from that fuckin bitch? Anything.” He slammed his foot on the gas and wove between cars. 

“What about your necklace?” Lemon asked. 

“This one?” You pulled it out of your deep pocket and they both whooped and laughed at your cunning. 

“You’re something else, love.”

“Thank you.”

“So, where to?” Still going top speed on the now open road.

“Wherever you like.”

thank you for reading and I just want to remind you that if you really want to appreciate your writers, comments and reblogs especially are the way to go, that's how things circulate here and as much as I appreciate the likes, your words mean more than I could ever express

[kerubimcrepin]

NAVIGATION

My name is Ro, though you may know me from my main blog (@jorisjurgen) and art blog (@atchamcrepin). On this blog I had posted random dissections of Dofus Aux Tresors episodes in a rewatch liveblog format, and now post about other Jurgen-Crepin related things.

My goal is to solve Crepin-Jurgen related lore.

Things to know:

This was my uhhh. 6th-11th rewatch of this show. Who even knows anymore.

I welcome any lore related asks, even if I may not know something.

I only tag posts with character names if I think I analysed them at least a little, or if the post is quite informative (has trivia that isn't available in any of the shows).

I hope not to spam the tags too much & that it will be entertaining in some way.

※ Please read on desktop/in your mobile browser.　Chronological tag links are broken on tumblr's mobile app.

[read the liveblog from the start] or read any of the following:

Character Analysis + trivia:

※ Both the separate analysis posts, and the analysis included within some of the liveblogs.

Atcham Crepin

Joris Jurgen

Kerubim Crepin

※※Non-Liveblog Parts of this blog:※※

MMO dialogues and lore compilation

Translations

Official art collection

Dofus: Aux Trésors de Kérubim:

1. Kerubim

2. Luis' Blues

3. Stirch Hunt

4. The Infernal Hourglass

5. Welcome to YeCh'Tich's

6. Dance against the Boowolves

7. Bashi the Shark

8. Pandala's Chichala

9. The Legendary Unikron

10. Vax's Living Art

11. The Hairy Archelmet

12. The Great Glucid

13. A Diamond for Ruby

14. Koalak Quack

15. Teeny Keke

16. West of Astrub

17. Toothache

18. The Pyrofuego

19. The Judgement of the Twelve

20. My Friend Bashi

Mid-Show Break:

The Wheel of Destiny #8 - Kerubim Crepin

Dofus Heroes: Kerubim

Dofus Aux Tresors de Kerubim: Official Novels

Dofus: Aux Trésors de Kérubim:

21. A Bow Meow on the Moon

22. The Giant Ploomers

23. Like a Snapper in the Water

24. Scams, Crimes, and Tentacles

25. SOS Adventures

26. A Hairy Mystery

27-29. Ecaflip City

30. Bonta Folie's

31. The Break

32. Pupuce's Life

33. Noffoub's Foutnain

34. Heads for no Tails

35. The Gobbal Set

36. The Ding-Dong Belt

37. The Charming Justicars

38. Dragokart Race

39. The Love Killer

40. The Beginning

41. The Sword of Nine Tails

42. The Trial

43. The Dream Mixer

44. My Papycha, the Secondhand Dealer

45. The Charming Justicars 2

46. The Hacienda's Fever

47. Indie

48. Role Plays

49. The Jellivision

50. Deadly Charm

51. High-Temperature Trap

52. Goodbye

Pre-Movie Off-Topic Break:

What do we know about Joris le Sans-Pouvoir? (Aka, addressing the “cancelled Nintendo DS game”-shaped elephant in the room.)

The Floor Plan of The House + Reference Pics

Random Joris Lore that won't fit into any other post

Documenting the "20th Anniversary of Ankama" map with commentary by Joris and Kerubim

Card Game Lore overview

Exploring dofus-la-serie.com

Pre-Movie Comic Break:

Lance Dur Comic #5 - The Third Death

The Wheel of Destiny #1 - Atcham

Julith et Jahash

Les Dessous de Dofus

Dofus Manga (But only the bits with Atcham, Kerubim, or Joris)

Dofus, Livre 1 : Julith

The Movie (there are... a lot of posts in this tag.

The Novel Adaptation of The Movie (coming not soon)

Post-Movie Break:

An Afterword: talking about Welsh and Shedar

Exploring dofus-le-film.com (and other events surrounding the movie)

Dofus: The Production (speculation & artbook discussion)

Reviewing merch (Without buying the merch in question)

Pre-Wakfu Break:

Remington (But only the bits with Joris)

Other games (a lot less lore)

Dofus choose-your-own-adventure novels/gamebooks

Dofus and Wakfu MMO (A LOT MORE LORE)

Wakfu (the bits that have Jojo Jurgen's Bizarre Adventure):

Wakfu (Season 1)

Wakfu (Season 2)

Wakfu (Manga)

Wakfu (OVA + a few Season 3 posts)

Wakfu (Season 4)

Wakfu - The Great Wave (Manga)

The Post-Wakfu media:

Waven MMO

[sleekervae]

Dripping | Remington x Vera

Masterlist

A/N: Happy Friday everybody. My depression streak has reemerged, but I'm trying my best to come out of it though. I wrote and edited this after the first instalment and it's been kinda nice to focus on something new; kind of wanna' treat it as a series of short pieces as opposed to a longer whole. So if you wanna' you can consider this part two.

Warnings: smut, pure and unadulterated smut

--

When the crew weren't heisting and pocketing jewels, they had to lay low. And the best way for them to lay low was stay stuck in middle-wage, go no where jobs so they wouldn't blow their cover. It would still be a while before they could move the diamonds and get their payout, anyway.

Vera worked ten hours a day, six days a week at a higher-end retail boutique in the city. She loved to pick through the products they'd ship in, as well as listen in on some of the events the upper-class ladies would gossip about. They had no idea that they just added to The Bastards' list of probably targets.

She was the last person to lock up and leave on a dusty weekday evening, changed out of her dress shirt and slacks and comfy in shorts and a band shirt. The back way of the strip was a quieter, not very popular way for tourists to take of course, though Vera had learned long ago it made for a better shortcut for her to catch her bus home. However, on nights like tonight, when the prospect of the bus just didn't sit well with her, Vera was delighted when she stepped into the empty street and spotted Remington and his car.

The headlights cut through the dimming desert horizon, illuminating him from behind. His long black hair fell tousled around his shoulders, matching the worn Iron Maiden muscle-tee he wore so proudly. Remington lit up as soon as he saw her and he hopped off the car hood.

"Hi," she drawled as he walked towards her, "What're you doing here?"

"I got off at the garage early and thought to myself -- you know what?" he replied, his dashing smile plastered to his face, "My girl does so much for me, I should really go and pick her up from work tonight,"

"That's very sweet of you," Vera smiled. He took her by the waist and pulled her in for a kiss, closing out as much space as he could between them. Vera wound her arms around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair and the sharp smell of engine oil and his cologne stung at her nose.

"I missed you," he whispered against her lips, his hand slipping down to her butt. He gave her an affectionate squeeze and Vera shivered.

"Was it really just me you missed?" she giggled.

"I missed all of you," before she knew it, Remington lifted her up and placed her on the car hood, nearly falling into her as he slammed his lips against hers. He revelled in hearing her moan against him.

"Let's go," he murmured softly, stepping back so Vera could hop down. She hopped into the shot gun and he started the car, pulling into the street and barrelling down the road. The Vegas strip dissipated into the desert horizon, the rocky sand filtered in the gorgeous hue of golden hour.

The windows were cracked and a Chase Atlantic record was playing through the radio set. Vera loved feeling her long hair bluster through the wind, but even more so she loved watching Remington drive. He was always so concentrated, his knuckles were tight around the steering wheel and he sometimes liked to sing along to the music. Vera always mentioned that if they'd gone down a different path of life, he would've done so well as a singer. He didn't half believe her sometimes, but he couldn't deny he did like to sing.

Vera's daydreaming was interrupted however, she looked down when she felt a gentle tickle crawl up her leg. His palm was warm on her thigh, his thumb gently caressing her soft skin. Another aspect she admired about Remington was his ability to multitask, her excitement hiking as his hand crawled further up her thigh. Vera was tentative as she looked up at him, it was clear he was trying to bite back his smug smirk. She shook her head.

"Remi,"

"Yes, Vera?"

"... Pull over, please?" she mewled like a bratty kitten, her top teeth butting down on her lip.

His smile held the glimmer of the devil, his hand squeezed soothingly over her inner thigh. He obliged her with glee and pulled over into the desert. He drove a little ways away from the highway, being sure no lookie-loos would catch them.

Remington lit up a cigarette while Vera raided the glove box to flick through his stash of mini liquor bottles. He always liked having a few on hand should the occasion to celebrate arise, even if it was as small as making it through a tough work day. Vera stopped however when she found a velvet bag tucked off to the side, a sharp tinkling emanating as she nudged it.

"What is this?" she asked as she pulled it out.

Remington nearly choked on his puff of smoke, coughing and waving his smoke billow away, "Fuck. I forgot about that. I wanted to surprise you," he admitted.

Vera eyed him skeptically as she drew the drawstrings apart, her eyes blew out wide as she pulled out the sparkling jewelry piece. The Warhol necklace, twinkling and casting iridescent patterns across the car interior.

Her breath hitched in her throat, "How -- oh my God! Remington!" she laughed, somewhat baffled but she knew how brazen Remington liked to be. He smirked coyly.

"Don't tell Sebastian," he giggled, "C'mon, turn around,"

Her eyes widened, "Are you serious?"

"Yeah! C'mon!" he took the necklace and Vera turned in her seat, holding up her hair. She shivered as the diamond crackled across her neck, the cool a welcome relief to the thick humidity slick on skin. Vera pulled down the visor mirror to admire the gorgeous piece. It clashed with her high-neck t-shirt but she couldn't find much to complain about, it was easily the most beautiful thing she had ever worn.

Remington meanwhile sat back in his seat, admiring her natural beauty being accentuated with the dripping jewelry. The unease in her eyes told him she was unsure, but he would do everything in his power to convince her how stunning she looked.

"What do you think?" she asked, biting her lip now for an overall different reason.

He shook his head in near disbelief, "You are so fucking beautiful," he gaped.

Vera broke out into a blushing grin, "Yeah?"

"Yes," he mired, "But then you make everything beautiful,"

"Oh, shut up," Vera giggled, stroking her fingers across the diamonds, "The guys are gonna' kill you if they found out,"

"Emphasis on if," he took another drag from his cigarette, "Because if I have it my way, they're not gonna' find out,"

"Oh?" she popped a brow, "And what does your way entail, exactly?"

Her smirk grew dark, licking his lips hungrily as he crushed the cigarette swiftly in his hand and tossed it out the window, "You sitting on me, for one," he replied coyly.

"Which part of you?" Vera smirked back.

He swore he would melt on the spot when she smiled like that. He gasped dramatically, "Naughty girl!" he moved across the console to kiss her, needy and breathless as he seemingly drew the air from her lungs.

In an instant her hands were in his hair, his thick locks curling through his fingertips and she scratched across his scalp. He pulled away from her momentarily so he could move his seat back and give her plenty of room to crawl over and straddle his lap. He was becoming hard beneath her and her need for him to take her grew with each passing second.

Remington moved his hands along her waist, slipping under her shirt and roaming across her warm skin. He made quick work to clip off her bra and moving to massage her soft boobs. Vera had always been a little self conscious of them, she always thought they were too saggy and too small. Her opinion on her body changed after she met Remington, he worshipped every single inch of her body, told her over and over again how beautiful she was. She supposed it was a concept of repetition; hearing positive reinforcement over and over again you may begin to believe it. Feeling his caresses across her burning skin also certainly helped.

He looked up at her through dark lashes, lifting her shirt and pressing his lips to the lowest part of her ribs. She gasped as he bit her softly before licking across the same spot. Her hands left his hair to reach behind her to unfasten the necklace.

Remington pulled away from her, "What're you doing?" he asked.

"I'm taking off the necklace," Vera replied matter-of-factly.

He shook his head, reaching to pull her hands away, "Don't, leave it,"

She thought he was joking at first, chuckling under her breath, "I have half of last week's lottery on my chest, are you out of your mind?"

There was this wolfish grin he aced every time, something that was very much his, and it made Vera shiver with desire every time, "Absolutely," he pulled her closer to him, shifting so his erection bumped against her thigh, "I'm so fucking lucky right now,"

The prospect of wearing this million dollar necklace frightened her a little, knowing they had to sell it off in a few months. At the same time, it was so exciting. Vera was becoming lightheaded, either from the heat or the adrenaline and power coursing through her but she didn't care. She didn't hesitate as Remington pulled her shirt over her head, careful not to tangle up the diamonds. She shivered again as the cold stones rested on her bare chest, a sharp, delicious contrast to his warm lips wrapping around her nipple. Her own hands made quick work of his belt and unfastened his jeans.

He swore he may have jumped out of his skin as she grasped his length, shivering when her tongue debuted the first stroke under his ear lobe. It was that special spot she knew so well, the intoxicating taste of his skin crawled over her taste buds.

"You're so good to me," his grin was lopsided as she whispered in his ear between kisses, her teeth biting at his earlobe.

"You're so quiet now," she chuckled softly, "So full of talk until I touch you," She refused to move her hand, just warm skin playing on warm skin and keeping her teasing delightfully playful on his erection.

Sneaky whispers made him aware of how amazing it would be to feel himself slip down her throat. He moaned, loudly, his back rolling against the older leather seat.

His hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing gently as he pinned her against the steering wheel. Remington loved the devilish smile that mirrored his, the rings on his fingers made her shiver under his touch.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" his lips brushed hers with every word he spoke, "Do you like making me suffer? 'Cause it's working, you little shit," his tone was serious, though his mellow, chesty chuckle made it far from a real scolding.

"Should I be sorry?" she pouted, her forehead resting against his.

His lashes tickled across her cheek as he murmured, "Absolutely not," though he pushed his hand over hers, still resting over his pulsing cock, "But if you don't do something about this you're going to be,"

Vera giggled like a brat, finally moving her hand up and down his throbbing length. She swallowed his relief-filled grunt with a hungry kiss, lips were swollen and tongues teased in between. His own hand slipped down her belly and to the zipper of her shorts. He wasted no time tracing over her panties, his desire fueled to feel her so wet already.

"How badly do you want this?" his lips pecked her jawline tenderly, one, two, four times in a row, "Tell me what you want," she nodded with a devious grin, squirming as she felt two fingers toy at the crease between her pussy and her inner thigh.

"I need you -- please, Remi," she begged into his mouth.

"Words, V. What do you need?" his teasing almost physically hurt, tantalizing her ear.

"I need you to fuck me," her voice fizzled out softly as her cheeks burned an overwhelmingly sweet red.

Remington tensed at the needy tone in her voice, his mind foggy with lust, "Yes ma'am,"

He loved watching her bite down on her lip as his fingers slithered under her panties and making circles over her clit. He had finally taken back his control, his wolfish grin enriched by an attractive chuckle.

He adored feeling her slick slip over him, almost as much as she loved his calloused fingers toying with her most sensitive parts. The friction was illicit, almost unreal. His eyes welcomed every single reaction and contortion her face made, the way she looked almost as if she was about to burst into pixie dust.

"Look at you, dripping wet," his whispers only incite more warmth to burn in her gut, and his eyes flitted to the necklace, "In every single way," she chuckled softly, feeling she was wet enough to create a puddle on his jeans, though he couldn't care less whether or not they were ruined. Like, at all.

He actually fucking loved her for it.

"I'll make you feel so good, they'll hear you from the strip," his voice dropped an octave, completely captivating as he squeezed her throat again. The pressure was sinfully delightful, her own work on his cock sloppy as she tried to keep her concentration sharp and her pace steady. The whole time, Remington imagined how pretty her mouth would look wrapped around his twitching cock.

"Stop with the teasing," her sharp tone made him wobbly.

The hand on her throat slipped to her nape and pulled her in for a kiss. She mourned his grasp until he pinched her thigh.

"Watch that tongue,"

Expert fingers knew exactly what she needed, to finally put her out of her misery. Remington took her by the hips, helping her discard her shorts and underwear. He too removed his own shirt, loving every second of finally feeling her bare chest against his. He basked in every second, loving it just as much as Vera did. Probably more than she did.

Their proximity was such that at any moment she felt they may melt into one being. She could feel how his lips mimicked the arrival of a smile, swallowing her mewls, and she wished for so much more. She wasn't oblivious however to the ecstasy he experienced under her touch.

Despite his excitement, he did his best to control her stimulation. He had been too rough before and he'd hurt her back when they were young and still understanding the way their bodies reacted.

He adjusted until he had pushed his pants and boxers down his knees and she sat comfortably over his cock; his lips on her shoulder making up for any second she missed his touch.

"Remi, I need --"

"I know," she didn't have to tell him twice, not wasting another second as he brushed his length through her slick. He fought through his own euphoria to tease her just a little bit more, to bask in her sweat-slick skin rubbing against his own. And he loved watching her jaw slip open as he slid inside of her.

The well known, blissful sensation built up in her lower belly, expert fingers moving over her clit as she bouncing in his lap at a delicious pace. It burned in the best way possible, her walls contracting around him sent shockwaves up his spine. He kissed her chest, panting just beneath the glinting diamonds of that necklace. Their close still wasn't close enough for them.

"You gonna' come for me, baby?" he kept his fingers spinning steadily over her clit, so enamored with her heavy breathing, how her hair clung to her slick forehead as she nodded. His breath hitched as she squeezed around him, his cock sliding over that perfect spongy spot that palpitated around him, "You're so fucking hot, I can't wait to --"

Her sharp gasp cut him short, panting a flurry of yeses and she shook like a leaf in his lap. A blank delight ripped through her body as her orgasm coated his cock.

And he loved every second of it. His hips still rolled hungrily beneath her, his raspy voice mumbling sweet nothing that flitted past her ears in her haze. He leaned into her, his body shivering as he released an unrestrained groan and his own orgasm flooded through him. Vera could feel it, a white hot sensation filling her and a merciful whimper of breath on her chest brought her back to reality.

She collapsed into him, her head burying into his neck and his hand rubbed soothingly up and down her back. The silence that followed was cozy, the music still playing softly in the background.

They settled down together but Remington didn't have it in him to pull out of her yet. His thumb caressed under her lips, and he was smiling all of the sudden. That charming, boyish smile that she was still so enticed by.

He brushed the tip of his nose over hers, "I love you, Vera,"

"I love you, Remi," she smiled back.

Finally though, Vera had to pull off of him, she blushed hard as a hot mess slid out over her inner thighs and over his lap. Nevertheless, Remington reached down the side of the door to grab the tissue box he had ready -- silently confirming to her that he had had this evening planned -- and he cleaned her up with an admirable gentle touch. He had truly perfected making her feel gooey and dizzy inside, moments like these when he was so vulnerably real, so bluntly himself, he always reminded her of how much she truly loved him. She kissed him tenderly, the cascading diamonds swarming them in twinkly iridescence.

Not thirty minutes later, Remington's dusty chevrolet pulled into their driveway, both of them redressed and refreshed as best as they could manage. Vera had made sure to slip the necklace back in the velvet sack and she hid it in her bag, as sure enough Sebastian was in the front yard, firing up their grill for dinner. They both were praying he hadn't checked up on their safe.

"Well damn, it took you guys long enough," he gaped when he finally laid eyes on them.

Remington slammed his car door with a little flourish, following behind Vera up the walkway, "Traffic was shit," he replied simply.

Sebastian flitted his gaze between him and Vera, who of course feigned complete innocence as she hopped up the two-step porch.

"Yeah. They're still fixing the road for the Grand Prix in November," she added, the mouth-watering smell of burning charcoal wafting through the air, "What's for dinner?"

"Hamburgers and vegan sausages. You're welcome," he nodded to Remington.

The younger brother winked and clicked his tongue, "Sounds great! I'll whip up some potato salad,"

Sebastian glowered at him, "You don't know how to make potato salad," he pointed out.

"Fine, then I'll pull the McCain Super Fries outta' the freezer and call it a day," he took Vera by the hip and lead her inside, none the wiser to Sebastian shaking his head.

Vera made quick work to return the necklace to the safe, hoping and praying she had cleaned it out enough so nobody would be the wiser. She leaned against the wall when she finished, laughing in Remington's direction.

"Do you think he knows?" she asked quietly.

"That we fucked in the desert? Probably," he chuckled.

"About the necklace, smart ass!"

"He doesn't know," he assured her, coming to stand before her so she stayed put against the wall, "And nobody's ever gonna' know. Now, if they happened to hear how loud -- ow!" he giggled as she pinched his arm, "And I came to get you from work!" he gasped, feigning offense.

"Trust me," she pressed up on her toes, "I'm very grateful," she kissed him in between each word.

Remington took her in his arms, holding her close as he kissed her properly, happily. He couldn't even give a damn as he heard Emerson gag as he walked by. He loved Vera so openly, his heart burned from craving her and he relished in the fact that he couldn't have asked for a better partner.

[fence-macabre]

Scales of Eidolon - Finale

The Lost Glacier faded away like a lost dream, left behind in the frigid and death-filled waters of the North Sea and once again shrouded in a heavy mist of frost. Would anyone truly know of the great deed Fence Macabre had been part of? Would anyone believe them? A blink and everyone was back on the shores of the Burnished Mire.

Stepping back into the Inn, bustling with unusual business, Fence Macabre is met with many familiar faces. Word traveled fast across the small scattering of islands of the resounding success on the Lost Glacier - and of Fence Macabre’s soon departure back to the mainland.

The Scales of Eidolon were all present, as well as Salix. On one side of the inn, Salix and his mother Vivistrasza were conversing with Barclay and Zaïd from the Explorers’ League. The other side of the room were the trio of elderly tarasek - Kisha, Elash, and Tessk - unsure to be around so many of the other dragonflights but happy to see their friends off.

Remington approaches Ilvaia,

“So why’d ya keep bein’ one ‘a the Blacktalons under wraps? Coulda just told us right from the start and would’ve given us more confidence in our deal.”

Ilvaia admits that she assumed that Fence Macabre had already figured her out, but she was mistaken. She explains further that the locals know of her as a Blacktalon deserter.

“I left Wrathion’s service a year ago. I only recently arrived back in the Dragon Isles.

At first I attempted to make the Mire a safe place for Wrathion and Sabellian subordinates to get away from the infighting … Of course, the second I was recognized people from both sides began comin’ at me. The Blacktalons were fearful that I might reveal Wrathion’s secrets, and Sabellian’s people wanted those secrets.

I’m sure you noticed some of my visitors were sometimes … unruly.”

Ilvaia laments on the discovery that her brother Fahrad had been slain by Wrathion many years prior and his genocide against the Obsidian flight - becoming disillusioned by Wrathion and being unfamiliar with Sabellian. She disappeared into Hillsbrad in pursuit to recover her brother’s remains and those of Mostrasz - in turn, gaining the trust of the Gilded Caldera’s Ruby dragons. Ilvaia digresses … She feels comforted in her grief being channeled into something she believes Fahrad would be proud of.

Ilvaia further points out that the parcel Fence Macabre has been carrying the entire time wasn’t even from a Blacktalon agent - the parcel isn’t sealed correctly. She empties the contents of it, revealing sand and worthless shore rocks.

It seems Fence has been misled from the very beginning.

Ilvaia chucks the bag up into the darkness of one of the upper bunks in the inn.

“Is that the best you can do?”

A hand reaches out to snatch the empty bag and a figure jumps down - it’s Balisonria - the young elven woman who stowed away on Fiona’s Pride and gave Fence Macabre the parcel at Sterling Reach!

Balisonria asks how Ilvaia knew she was up there and Ilvaia retorts that Bali is sloppy at sneaking. Balisonria scoffs and then formally introduces herself as a young black drake who was waiting around for a Blacktalon agent to reveal themselves. Ilvaia asks if she still wants to meet with the Blacktalons. Bali shakes her head.

“No. I think I heard enough. Ain’t interested in meetin’ the Black Prince anymore.”

She pays Fence properly with gleaming, illimited diamonds. Each one could easily pay for year’s worth of wages and then some. No more tricks, no more deception.

Ilvaia smirks at the young drake. “So what now, Little Flint?”

Balisonria thinks on this question for a moment.

“I dunnae. I never thought it’d turn out this way. Guess I gotta come up with another plan and figure some o’ me stuff out first.

In the meantime, can I stay with ye?”

“As long as you like.”

The rest of the evening is filled with cheer, good food, cold drinks, and promises of meeting again among new lifelong friends.

For some of the Fence Macabre, the longing for home overwhelms any other feeling. For others, this is only the beginning, the igniting spark of bigger adventures abound of what else awaits on the Dragon Isles.

But, for this chapter, we draw to a close.

Fence Macabre will remember these glorious days fondly. Times of overcoming hardships, stepping up to challenges, forging friendships, mending hearts, saving souls… but most importantly - having a hand in the creation of something truly and wonderfully spectacular.

The Scales of Eidolon.

[disneytva]

Disney Branded Television Presents Cheerful Holiday Programming for Kids and Families With Disney Channel Fa La La La Lidays and Disney Junior Cheerful Holidays.

Disney Branded Television, the leader in kids and family entertainment content, will present an abundance of cheerful and festive programming for the whole family to enjoy throughout the holiday season.

Beginning FRIDAY, NOV. 25, through MONDAY, JAN. 2, Disney Channel’s Fa-la-la-lidays and Disney Junior’s Magical Holidays will serve as the hub for Disney Branded Television’s holiday-themed content, including the brand-new special “Mickey Saves Christmas” and holiday-themed episodes of “Big City Greens,” “Marvel’s Spidey and his Amazing Friends,” “Puppy Dog Pals,” “Alice’s Wonderland Bakery,” “Eureka!” and new hit series “Firebuds,” which will include both a Hanukkah and Christmas story in its 22-minute holiday episode.

Also included as part of Disney Channel’s Fa-la-la-lidays programming event are holiday-themed episodes of hit series, including the following:

Big City Greens “Virtually Christmas”

Saturday, Dec. 3, at 9:00 a.m. EST on Disney Channel

In this half-hour special, when Cricket gets snowed in at the Remingtons’ on Christmas Eve, he attempts to recreate his family’s Christmas Eve traditions in a virtual reality video game. Alfonso Ribeiro (“The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air”) guest stars as a virtual reality video game character, Mr. Extras.

For preschoolers, parents and caregivers, special holiday-themed episodes of favorite Disney Junior series are premiering all season long as part of Disney Junior’s Magical Holidays, including the following:

Marvel’s Spidey and his Amazing Friends

“Halted Holiday/Merry Spidey Christmas” Friday, Nov. 11, at 8:30 a.m. EST on Disney Channel

“Halted Holiday” – When all roads to the city are blocked on Thanksgiving, Team Spidey works to clear up the traffic. Scott Porter (“Friday Night Lights”) guest stars as Gwen’s dad, George Stacy“Merry Spidey Christmas” – Team Spidey uses their Glow Webs to save Christmas after baddies try to ruin it. Featuring the new original song “Merry Spidey Christmas,” written and performed by series’ songwriter/composer Patrick Stump (Fall Out Boy).

Puppy Dog Pals “Wrap Party Pups/Fixing Santa’s Sleigh”

Thursday, Dec. 1, at 7:00 p.m. EST on Disney Junior

“Wrap Party Pubs” – The pets go on a mission to find Grace’s gift before she needs to swap presents.“Fixing Santa’s Sleigh” – When Santa’s sleigh breaks down mid-delivery, the pets make it their mission to fix it

Firebuds “Hanukkah Hullabaloo/The Christmas Car-Sled Race”

Monday, Nov. 28, at 7:00 p.m. EST on Disney Channel

“Hanukkah Hullabaloo” – Bo gets carried away decorating his house for Hanukkah.“The Christmas Car-Sled Race” – Bo enters a car-sled race to try to win his dad a Christmas present. Melissa Rauch (“The Big Bang Theory”) and Lou Diamond Phillips (“Elena of Avalor”) recur as Bo’s mom and dad, Beth and Bill Bayani, respectively.

Alice’s Wonderland Bakery “The Gingerbread Palace”

Tuesday, Nov. 29, at 7:00 p.m. EST on Disney Junior Friday, Dec. 2, at 7:00 a.m. EST on Disney Channel Alice and her friends build a gingerbread palace to host a Christmas dinner for all of Wonderland.

Eureka! “Jingle Bog Rock”

Wednesday, Nov. 30, at 7:00 p.m. EST on Disney Junior

Eureka invites Bog to perform with her band at Winterfest when she invents a new instrument that only he is able to play.

[thekinkyleopard]

Hot For Teacher

A Remi x Levi Non-Canon Fic Series

Pt. 1 of many

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Foul language & Suggestive tension

Author’s Notes: Alright Snow Puppies! I’m back with another series for Remi x Levi! This one I’m hoping to be a little bit longer than the last. I was more or less testing the waters with “New Guy” but I think I have a really fun idea you’ll love! Strap in! As always Remi is owned by the awesome @aller-geez !

Description: Levi is a newly divorced English Professor, at his local community college. Recently, he’s had a new student that clearly lacks boundaries. Can he maintain his purity as a responsible educator to society? Or will he submit to the taboo…

“Alright, Students! It’s the first day of class, and let me tell you all, I’m excited to have you!” The man was cheerful, full of light as he stood not but 5 foot 7, in his beige tight fit trousers and light blue long sleeves. It matched well with the brown lapel he wore over, he grabbed a dry erase marker and began to scribble his name across the board. “Professor Levi, I am your English instructor for the next 4 semesters! I hope to establish a close rapport with you all! In fact let’s do some ice breakers,” he clapped his hands together before he pointed at one end of the room. “Start here and end,” pointing towards the opposite section side now. “Here!” Levi was so excited to be back in the classroom. After his insane divorce due to it being a poorly arranged marriage, he had a hard time during the break months. Without his students to distract him from how very real being alone was, he was nothing.

The students introduced themselves one by one, mentioning a hobby, favorite color, etc. the usual thing Levi tried keeping his rather short attention span to. In truth, these weren’t the things he would remember about his students. It was how they wrote, how they used their voice with passion that resonated with people like Levi. It was several voices in before he heard one, deep, almost hypnotizing voice start speaking.

“Hey…I’m Remington, you guys can call me Remi…I guess…I like cars,” Levi’s bright diamond eyes met those of shining emeralds, and the second they locked, the wolf sneers. “And I think I’m really going to enjoy this class,” voice sultry, a few of the female students sighing in admiration and adoration. Professor Levi cleared his throat, praying the freshly dusted freckled cheeks went unnoticed by most as he quickly nodded and pointed to the next student. “We-Welcome Remi, nice to meet you…moving on…” he felt a flush of warmth. What was this? Was he flustered? He’d had many handsome and gorgeous students before, but no one ever caught his eye quite like this. This man was unbelievably hot, long black unkempt hair, these green eyes that closely resembled gems, his angular jaw was sharp but strong…masculine but still so delicate.

The class finished introducing themselves, and as they all sat, the raven haired man’s eyes never left that of the blue eyed professor’s frame. Studying his every twist, and turn. For Remington, he’d never understood having the hots for someone in such a setting like this, but feasting his eyes on such…a cute, petite professor, those shimmering eyes of wonder…he could tell this was going to be his favorite class indeed. He had to get his hands on him, he had to have him. It was destiny, and he knew it was because he’d never felt this immediate attraction to anyone in his entire 28 years of life. There was nothing that would stop him…but how would he play the game? The wolf wondered to himself.

Levi sprung right back into action as he started to jot down the lesson plans, the structure of the class, expectations and rules. It was going increasingly well, when the emerald eyed mischief, raised his hand silently. Seemingly surprised Levi pointed towards the hand. “Yes? Remi..was it?” Nodding, the tall student stood up and spoke out loud, with the confidence of 10,000 men.

“Yeah, I was wondering, how much extra credit do I need to take you out?” Biting his lower lip. The teacher’s face lit up in bright crimson, suddenly taken aback by the student’s sheer audacity.

“Mr. Connors, that is a highly inappropriate question to ask, and we can discuss boundaries after class,” the man abruptly slammed his pointing sticking onto the desk in front of him with furious intent. After class? Alone? That didn’t sound too bad to him. He smoothly, and swiftly sat back down in silence. Everyone trying their best not to stare, but definitely shared their fair part in whispers. Remi smirked to himself, unaware, and frankly uncaring of anyone else’s reaction around him. He would wait until after class then. So forward, and in front of everyone? Naughty professor. The wolf thought to himself completely lost in his desires for the other.

Levi on the other hand, was internally fuming. Who does this little shit think he is? Being so openly forward like that in a class of students? While he’s working!? The disrespect was immeasurable and he was sure to think of a fair punishment for him. That’s for sure. The lesson droned on and on, the raven haired student doodled little comics on the side of his notes. Mostly just mini wolves shooting themselves in the head, but a couple other random squiggles here and there too.

“Mr. Connors, can you tell me the concept behind ‘To Kill a Mockingbird?’ Real easy book, it was part of the summer reading when you signed up for the class…” narrowing his eyes at the other, sly smile spread across his own face knowing full well he hadn’t been paying attention. Remi scratched the back of his head as he looked down at his less than helpful notes.

“Uh…hunting…?” He guessed at the top of his head, no one said anything. No one even chuckled because Remi’s aura was more than threatening enough to gain respect amongst his peers. They just all looked back at their Professor, to anticipate his next move.

“The concept of the book ‘To Kill a Mocking Bird’, Mr. Connors, is Innocence. The mockingbird represents, innocence..” he nodded his head matter-of-factly turning sharp on his heels to make a point to the student that he would, make an example of him at any given moment he chose. The wolf raised an eyebrow at the other’s back now turned to him. ‘Oh? Are we playing a game now?’ He wondered excitedly as the lesson continued. An hour passed and there was a large chime that echoed the entire classroom, signaling the end of period. Everyone scattered to push their things into their bags, scrambling to their feet to catch their next lessons. Remi however, slowly put his things away, taking his sweet time as the room emptied one by one. Eventually, it was just him and professor Levi left alone to their own devices. Finally having gathered his things, he walked down to the desk where the white haired man sat. “You wanted to see me?” His voice smug as he easily over towered the other that looked up at him.

“Yes…what the hell are you doing?” Raising a thin brow and setting his chin on the top of his folded hands, using his elbows for support.

“A…ttending college?” Remi even questioned himself now, was that not the answer to the question? Abruptly, Levi pushed himself back from his desk and stood up, shaking a judgmental finger at the handsome student.

“No, you know what I’m talking about! Don’t go making suggestive or flirtatious remarks at me during class! Highly inappropriate…” blushing brightly feeling the emotions overwhelm him. It’s not like he didn’t enjoy the other’s flirtations, but it was extremely forbidden, he wouldn’t lose his job for some idiot that would probably drop out in two weeks anyway.

“So, you’re saying outside of class is fine then?” Waggling his eyebrows in a cheeky fashion, truly hoping to garner at least a smile. The ocean eyed man sighed with sincere annoyance, truthfully hiding the feeling of giddiness in his gut, before shaking his head back and forth. Without saying a word. “I’m sorry, Professor…just..never had a hot teacher before, we’re both adults we can speak honestly here,” he shrugged stepping dangerously closer to the shorter male in front of him. Levi followed his motions but by backing up, finding himself wedged between the other and the whiteboard now.

“W-Well you need to get it together…besides..even if you weren’t my student..you expect a scholar like me to be interested in someone who can’t even do the required reading?” He scoffed rolling crystal blues back before returning their heated eye contact, squinting with judgement. “Be for real,” that one stung. Remi stepped back and he contemplated what the other just said, emerald orbs studying the smaller’s body language, before grabbing his backpack tighter to his body, his shoulders raised and dropped with challenging confidence.

“Alright, fine…we’ll see then,” looking his Professor up and down one last time, taking a long pause before turning on his heels and heading out of the classroom as if nothing had just happened at all.

‘What the hell was that ?’ Levi thought to himself as he slowly sat back down at his desk. ‘We’ll see? The fuck was that supposed to mean?’ He shook his head back and forth. No. He wouldn’t let some long haired, chiseled body pretty boy distract him from his successes. He gathered his things and began to pack up for the day. Everything would be fine, he didn’t have to worry because Remi wasn’t going to be a problem. No. It would fizzle out as most people obsessed with their teacher first day do. Putting today’s discomfort behind him, Levi set his sights on going back home.

Two Weeks Later

It had been quiet in the classroom, much to the Professor’s surprise. Remi had maintained a quiet demeanor, taking notes, paying attention. The few times he’d been called upon he actually had intelligent answers, seeming his one moment of embarrassment set him straight. The white haired male feeling certainly satisfied at his methods proving fruitful. “Alright everyone, I’m handing out a pop quiz,” the class groaned, some panicked, the wolf leaning against the palm of his hand without a trace of emotion. Just forever looking at the leopard in a studious and obsessive manner.Levi waved his hands about and hushed the crowd of anxious students. “Don’t worry, don’t worry it’s not going to directly affect your grades, I just want to see how well you’re all retaining the information so far…think of it as an educational check in,” this bit of information seemed to settle most of the more flustered students.

He started passing around the small sheets of 8 test questions. It was multiple choice, wouldn’t take them all longer than maybe fifteen minutes. After distributing their tests, Levi sat back at his desk, waiting patiently as he observed the students at work. His eyes lingering on the raven haired delinquent…he held his hopes out for this one. Shortly after receiving the test, Remi breezed through each question, having paid close attention he was confident in his answers. Sliding himself out from the desk, he stood up and carried himself across the room to slide the test onto his Professor’s desk, tossing him a cheeky wink with a matching devious smirk. The leopard blushed, avoiding eye contact as Remi returned to his seat. He cleared his throat before going over each of the answers, and much to his surprise, the wolf had passed with flying colors. Every answer correct. ‘Impressive…’ he thought to himself before setting it in the ‘graded’ basket.

At first, it took the student far too long to get out of bed the morning of this dreadful class, just to trudge himself into this bland and boring room. However, since he laid his eyes on the adorably fit professor, it’s suddenly become the highlight of his every Tues and Thursday. If being an active student was important to his new object of desire, an active student he would be. Studying in his free time, analyzing and observing every concept and topic addressed by the bubbly educator. He knew a basic 8 question test wasn’t a whole lot to gauge his recent efforts on, but it would be a significant difference, it would surely make an impression.

One by one, each student turned in their tests, Levi grading them immediately and setting them aside. He waited patiently until the very last student turned in their assignment and once done, Levi stood up with his handful of papers. “Thanks you guys! I really appreciate you taking these tests to the best of your abilities, it seems most of you are retaining the lessons, and are right on track!” He flashed a glance over at the emerald eyed student, who’s side smirk stayed presently on his face. The white haired man reddened almost unnoticeably to everyone else, but not to man he wish to hide it from. He continued to nervously give the rest of his lesson feeling those green eyes burning into the back of him as he did. The hour seemed to creep by, introducing the most basic of reading assignments, Romeo and Juliet, before the bell finally rang, and Levi felt like he would be able to breathe soon. The pressure of the man’s gaze was far too much to handle.

Remi sat, waiting patiently for everyone to clear out before he stood up at his seat, walking down now to the door after the last student wandered out, he locked it shut. Upon hearing the *tink* of his classroom door locking, Levi looked over, eyebrows furrowed before questioning the wolf.

“Hey, why are you locking my door?” The man could only chuckle in response, stepping over to the desk in a few long strides, as the white and black haired man stood up from his desk now. “No seriously, what the hell is with yo-…” suddenly he was pushed up against the white board with Remi’s strong arm slammed down to the side of his head, pinning him there, the student bore down onto his much smaller professor.

“Have I impressed you? As you can see, I’m not a COMPLETE, idiot…” his breath hot against the other’s face, his heart racing a million miles a second as his ocean blues sparkled innocently up at the intimidating one. It was true, within the educator he knew there had been a shift within the student’s behaviors. It would be an out right lie to say it had gone unnoticed and unappreciated. Remi brought his free hand over to the man’s face, dragging his thin index down the front of his sweater vest. “What’s a guy gotta do, hm?”

“I-…I…” completely at a loss for words as he looked his student up and down before shaking his head clear of any impure thoughts. “This..is a College, a place of learning..your actions…” trying to rationalize the best he could to not lead himself head first into temptation.

“Are hIgHlY iNaPpRoPRiAtE…yeah and? I have a feeling you like a bit of…inappropriate…behavior,” his finger stopped at the man’s belt, bringing attention to the slight bulge print that was building within Levi’s slacks at the forceful treatment. Gripping it just barely with the tip of said finger, he tugged, before it released with a snap. Levi’s breath caught in his throat, he’d never felt more vulnerable..he’d also never been in this position. Completely fawned and pinned over by an extremely attractive man? Usually it was women throwing themselves at him. It was refreshing to catch the sex he was attracted to…but at work?! His student?! The universe was truly a sick place.

Levi took both his palms now and shoved the taller off him, doing his best to fight off impulsivity, though he wasn’t as strong, Remi allowed the other his space. He could take a hint. Kind of. He chuckled, however, shoveling his hands deep within jean pockets before adjusting the bag on his shoulders. “You’re out of line, Connors,” the leopard knitted his eyesbrows together as he scolded the student, who just continued to undress the professor with his glowing emerald orbs.

“Maybe…but you like it, and so long as you do…I won’t stop,” biting his pierced lower lip, he turned now with a lingering glance behind his shoulder, he flashed another smirk, before turning back and starting his way back towards the door of the classroom. “Have a good rest of your evening, Professor…Guess I’ll just have to try harder..see you Thursday…” unclinking the lock, swinging open the door and disappearing from the room all together. Levi stood there with disbelief. This can’t be happening right? No..he thought this was all over…but, it was clearly only getting started.

To be continued…

I know, I know…it’s pretty vanilla from what we are used to. Trust the slow burn, puppies, trust the slow burn. I promise it’ll be worth it, I have lots of plans for angst, fluff, smut. Any suggestions, would be awesome as well! Thanks for all that take the time to read my fics, I truly appreciate each and every one of you <3

[typingtess]

Tiptoeing through the “Flesh & Blood” guest cast

Pamela Reed as Roberta Deeks Bertie’s back!  Pamela Reed last appeared in “High Society” in season 11.  

Bar Paly as Anastasia "Anna" Kolcheck Back from “Of Value” week before last.

Natalia Del Riego as Rosa Reyes Back from “Game of Drones”, the season 14 premiere.

Kavi Ramachandran Ladnier as NCIS Reserve Agent Shyla Dahr Back from last week’s “Dead Stick”.

Marnee Carpenter as Alice Morgan Was Catherine Martin in CBS’s Clarice series.  Had guest roles in Good Girls, Criminal Minds, The Resident and The Rookie.

Lauren "Lolo" Spencer as Ella Plays Jocelyn in The Sex Lives of College Girls.

Rif Hutton as Navy Commander Albert Burns Longtime working actor.  Was JAG officer Lt. Commander Alan Mattoni in JAG.  Played Gordon in Tribes, Dr. Ron Welch in Doogie Howser MD and recently Lenny Caufield in General Hospital.  

Played Marine General Phillip Braxton in the season 16 “Friendly Fire” episode of NCIS and the season 19 episode of “Face the Strange”.

Recently appeared in episodes of American Horror Story and Grace and Frankie.  In the 2010’s, was in episodes of The First Family, Criminal Minds, Bosch, SEAL Team, Alone Together, Shameless and How to Get Away with Murder.

2000’s guest roles include The Mentalist, Jonas, Caprica, Ghost Whisperer, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, The Shield, Century City, Rock Me Baby, House, Listen Up, That’s So Raven, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, CSI: Miami, Cold Case, Monk, ER, Presidio Med, Philly, The Bernie Mac Show, The Agency and Get Real (with a young Eric Christian Olsen).

In the 1990’s, appeared in episodes of Silk Stalkings, The Wayan Bros., Any Day Now, Odd Man Out, Arli$$, Seinfeld, Pensacola: Wings of Gold, 3rd Rock from the Sun, Family Matters, Hangin’ with Mr. Cooper, The Gregory Hines Show, The Jamie Foxx Show, Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman, Home Improvement, Babylon 5, Fudge, Sisters, The Secret Life of Alex Mack, Step by Step, The Sinbad Show, Getting By, Sister Sister, Diagnosis Murder, On Our Own, Stand By Your Man, Murphy Brown (1992), The Bold and the Beautiful, The Larry Sanders Show, Dragnet (1991), Dark Shadows (1991), Hunter, Wings, FBI: The Untold Stories, Alien Nation, Working Girl, Full House, Days of Our Lives, Valerie, Married with Children, Empty Nest and LA Law.

In the 1980’s, was in episodes of Living Dolls, Knots Landing, A Different World, Webster, Beverly Hills Buntz, Once a Hero, Night Court, Scarecrow and Mrs. King, The New Gidget, Remington Steele and The Jeffersons.

Written by:  Chad Mazero co-wrote “Internal Affairs”, “Revenge Deferred” and “Where Everybody Knows Your Name”, “The Noble Maidens” and “Pandora’s Box”.  Wrote “Tidings We Bring”, “Can I Get a Witness”, “All Is Bright”, “Diamond in the Rough”, “High Society”, “Murder of Crows”, "Overdue" and "Sorry for Your Loss".

Directed by:  Daniela Ruah directed “Russia, Russia, Russia”, “Lost Sailor Down”, “Pandora’s Box” (co-written by Chad Mazero) and “Live Free or Die Standing”. Directing announcement. Writer/director.

[goodspotstovisit]

3 Reasons to Visit The Remington Lakes Sports Complex in Bolingbrook Illinois: A Premier Destination for Athletes and Families

Looking for a great place to play sports or enjoy outdoor activities near Chicago? The Remington Lakes Sports Complex in Bolingbrook, Illinois might be just what you're looking for. This popular sports venue offers a wide range of amenities for athletes and families alike.

Whether you're a sports fan, an active player, or just someone who enjoys spending time outdoors, Remington Lakes Sports Complex has something for everyone. The complex features soccer fields, baseball diamonds, and basketball courts, making it a perfect spot for various sports activities. You can play a game, watch others compete, or simply enjoy the fresh air and green spaces.

Visiting Remington Lakes Sports Complex is also a great way to support the local community. The facility hosts many events throughout the year, bringing people together and boosting the local economy. It's a place where you can connect with others who share your interests and maybe even make some new friends.

Key Takeaways

Remington Lakes Sports Complex offers a variety of sports facilities and outdoor activities

The complex is a hub for community events and social gatherings

Visiting supports the local economy and provides fun for all ages

Top Reasons to Visit Remington Lakes Sports Complex

The Remington Lakes Sports Complex offers something for everyone. It's a great place to stay active, enjoy top-notch facilities, and spend time with family.

Diverse Recreational Activities

At Remington Lakes, you'll find a wide range of sports and activities to enjoy. The complex features soccer fields, baseball diamonds, and basketball courts. You can play your favorite sport or try something new.

The complex also has walking trails around the lakes. These paths are perfect for a relaxing stroll or a brisk jog. You can take in the scenery while getting some exercise.

For water lovers, there's a pool where you can swim and cool off on hot days. The pool area is a popular spot for families and swimmers of all ages.

State-of-the-Art Facilities

Remington Lakes boasts modern, well-maintained facilities. The sports fields are kept in top condition, ensuring a great playing experience.

The complex has ample parking, making it easy to visit even during busy times. You won't have to worry about finding a spot for your car.

Clean, accessible restrooms are available throughout the complex. This adds to the comfort of your visit, especially if you're planning to spend several hours there.

The facility also offers equipment rentals. If you forget your gear or want to try a new sport, you can easily rent what you need on-site.

Family-Friendly Environment

Remington Lakes is designed with families in mind. The complex is a safe, welcoming space for visitors of all ages.

There are picnic areas where you can enjoy a meal with your family. Pack a lunch and make a day of your visit to the complex.

For younger children, there's a playground area. Kids can have fun and burn off energy between sports activities.

The complex hosts family-friendly events throughout the year. These might include sports tournaments, holiday celebrations, or community gatherings.

Admission to Remington Lakes is free, making it an affordable option for family outings. You can enjoy quality time together without breaking the bank.

Planning Your Visit to Remington Lakes Sports Complex

Getting to the complex and knowing when it's open are key for a smooth trip. Here's what you need to know to plan your visit.

Address and Directions

Remington Lakes Sports Complex is at 811 Remington Blvd in Bolingbrook, Illinois 60440. It's easy to find using GPS or online maps.

From Chicago, take I-55 South to I-355 South. Exit at Boughton Road and head west. Turn left on Remington Boulevard. The complex will be on your right.

If you're coming from the south, take I-55 North to Weber Road. Go north on Weber, then east on Boughton Road. Turn right on Remington Boulevard.

Parking is free and plentiful at the complex.

Operating Hours and Seasonal Information

Remington Lakes Sports Complex is open year-round, but hours may vary by season and for special events.

In summer, the complex is typically open from dawn to dusk. This is the busiest season, with many outdoor activities and events.

For up-to-date hours and real-time updates on field conditions, check the Bolingbrook Park District website or call 630-739-0272.

Some areas may close for maintenance or due to weather. Always check before you visit, especially in winter or after heavy rain.

Amenities and Services at Remington Lakes Sports Complex

The Remington Lakes Sports Complex offers a range of amenities and services to enhance your visit. You'll find dining options and nearby attractions to complement your sports experience.

Concessions and Dining Options

At the complex, you can grab a quick bite from the concession stands. These stands offer snacks, drinks, and light meals to keep you fueled during games or practice sessions.

For a sit-down meal, you'll find restaurants near the complex. Local eateries cater to various tastes, from fast food to family-friendly dining. Some restaurants may offer team discounts or special deals on game days.

Remember to bring cash, as some concession stands might not accept cards. It's a good idea to check the complex's website for up-to-date information on available food options.

Nearby Attraction Highlights

After your time at the sports complex, you can explore other local attractions. The Pelican Harbor Aquatic Park is a popular spot for families. It features indoor and outdoor pools, water slides, and play areas.

Wipfler Park offers a change of pace with its walking trails and picnic areas. It's a great place to relax after a busy day of sports activities.

For nature enthusiasts, the Hidden Lakes Historic Trout Farm is just a short drive away. Here, you can try your hand at fishing or simply enjoy the scenic surroundings.

Parking is available at the complex and most nearby attractions. Check each location's website for specific parking details and fees.

The Local Community and Economy Impact

The Remington Lakes Sports Complex plays a vital role in Bolingbrook and the surrounding area. It brings people together and boosts local businesses through sports tourism.

Community Projects and the Park District

The Bolingbrook Park District uses the complex for many community events. You can join fitness classes or youth sports leagues here. The park hosts charity runs and family fun days too.

Local schools use the fields for their sports teams. This saves them money on field upkeep. The complex also has walking trails that are open to everyone.

The Park District works hard to keep the complex in top shape. They listen to feedback from residents to make improvements. Recent upgrades include new playground equipment and better lighting on the trails.

Boosting the Local Economy Through Sports Tourism

Remington Lakes draws visitors from all over Illinois and beyond. When teams come for tournaments, they stay in local hotels. They eat at Bolingbrook restaurants and shop at nearby stores.

This sports tourism brings money into the local economy. Hotels see higher bookings on tournament weekends. Restaurants get busier too.

The complex creates jobs for local residents. It needs staff for maintenance, coaching, and running events. This helps keep unemployment low in Bolingbrook.

Big events at the complex can put Bolingbrook on the map. This can lead to more tourism year-round. You might see more reviews on TripAdvisor praising the town's amenities.

Engaging with Local News and Events

Staying connected with local news and events helps you make the most of your visits to Remington Lakes Sports Complex. You'll learn about upcoming games, tournaments, and community activities at the complex.

Stay Updated on Upcoming Events

You can easily keep track of events at Remington Lakes Sports Complex through various channels. The Bolingbrook Park District website is a great place to start. They post regular updates about sports schedules, community events, and recreational activities.

Sign up for email newsletters to get event information sent straight to your inbox. You can also follow the park district's social media accounts for real-time updates and announcements.

Don't forget to check out the Remington Lakes Sports Complex Facebook page. It often features posts about upcoming games and special events.

Engage with Bolingbrook Community via Local News

Local news sources are valuable for staying informed about happenings at Remington Lakes Sports Complex. The Bolingbrook Patch is a great resource for community news and events.

You can sign up for Patch newsletters to receive regular updates about Bolingbrook, including news related to the sports complex. These newsletters often cover upcoming programs, like the "Visit Your Local Park" events held on Fridays during the summer months.

For urgent updates or weather-related closures, make sure to enable alerts on your phone. This way, you'll never miss important information about the complex's operations or last-minute event changes.

Keep the park district's phone number handy for quick inquiries about events or facility information. You can easily find this on their official website or social media pages.

3 Businesses We Highlight That Support Bolingbrook IL

When visiting Bolingbrook, you'll find several local businesses that actively support the community. Here are three standout companies making a positive impact:

Huuso Exteriors

Long-time community pillar

Top-rated roofers in Bolingbrook and Chicago area

Continuous support for local initiatives

Huuso Exteriors has earned a reputation for excellence in roofing services. Their commitment to quality work and community involvement has made them a trusted name in Bolingbrook.

Pelican Harbor Indoor/Outdoor Aquatic Park

Year-round recreation for all ages

Offers swimming programs and lessons

Provides jobs for local residents

This popular attraction brings joy to families and supports the local economy. You can enjoy fun water activities while knowing your visit contributes to the community.

Bolingbrook Buzz

Local online show highlighting businesses

Promotes community engagement

Supports economic growth

By showcasing local establishments, Bolingbrook Buzz helps connect residents with nearby businesses. This platform strengthens the local economy and fosters community spirit.

Here’s a local business that supports the community.

[containatrocity]

I just want the diamonds

I just want the fame

Probably die alone- but I can't complain.

Imma be a star- star.

I can be a monster,

I can be your slave-

Probably burn in hell

But I'll swing from the chains.

Imma be a star. I'll show you.

[mooncaustics]

Mc (Diamond💎) and Remington🔫 are rivals in every way. Who will rule the campus?

.

.

.

53 days to go!

Our Kickstarter: kck.st/3IhgU9m

[anarchyoutdoor]

TriggerTech Triggers: Departure from Convention, Advanced Technology, a Superior Shooting Experience

Gritty mil-spec triggers and so-called trigger “upgrades” that leave you wondering where exactly the upgrade is are a constant gripe among precision shooters.

Mushy triggers, inconsistent adjustability, and long resets take an already difficult discipline and add in even more complicated factors.

But there is a solution: TriggerTech Triggers.

The Only Trigger on the Market That Does Not Use Sliding Friction Pretty much every trigger design in the world relies on sliding friction: pulling the trigger allows the trigger bar to slide out of the way of the sear, releasing the hammer.

TriggerTech Triggers do not rely on this principle. They operate without sliding friction and utilize FRT, or Frictionless Release Technology, which incorporates a cylindrical glass rod that does not rely on coatings or lubricants to function.

Triggertech only offers performance triggers that are engineered for the ideal release characteristics. This departure from sliding friction creates a crisp break with no trade-off in performance.

They’re engineered - and guaranteed - to improve both precision and accuracy.

Are TriggerTech Triggers Adjustable? TriggerTech Triggers are easily adjustable thanks to their CKLR Technology, which includes an easy-to-access adjustment screw that makes adjusting trigger pull weight easy, straightforward, and precise.

Zero-Creep, Less Overtravel, an Extremely Short Reset The FRT, or Frictionless Rod Technology, of these triggers guarantees a zero-creep break. These triggers also make use of TKR Technology which minimizes overtravel, incurring less disruption to your sight picture before the trigger breaks; it also ensures an extremely short reset that you can easily feel.

Safe and Durable These triggers do not rely on coatings or lubrication to function properly and are made with 440C stainless steel internal components that are strong, durable, and corrosion-resistant. Triggertech housings are also designed to minimize particulate ingress and are engineered to operate in the most unforgiving conditions.

Guaranteed for Life These triggers come with a satisfaction guarantee and a warranty for the lifetime of the product - protecting your investment and enabling you to shoot with confidence.

Outfitting the Best Rifles in the Industry TriggerTech Triggers, being some of the best-engineered and highest-performance triggers in the industry, are used in some of the best rifles on the market. Bergara, Christensen Arms, Surgeon, and McMillan Firearms are only a few of the names that use TriggerTech Triggers - but there are many others.

Triggers for Bolt Guns, Gas Guns, and Even Crossbows TriggerTech Triggers are not just for AR-15 rifles and other gas platforms. The company also makes triggers for bolt-action firearms and crossbows, too.

Trust your trigger - whether you shoot a rifle or a crossbow.

Where Can You Learn More About TriggerTech Triggers Interested in learning more about TriggerTech Triggers? Visit Anarchy Outdoors via the previous link. They carry replacement trigger groups for Remington 700 rifles, two-stage triggers, and AR-15 diamond triggers, among many other replacements and upgrades.

They also carry a wide range of other gun parts and upgrades, including throw levers, compensators, bolt handles, magwells, and a whole lot more.

Visit their website for more information or get in touch with them directly at 833-980-0333.

[measuringbliss]

Glee Rewatch 1x22, bye Matt!

This is actually Blaine's first appearance.

(Are you confused? Check this out!)

This episode is notable because it's Matt's last appearance until season 6. See you later <3

Guys, the last episode of season 1 is called "Rhapsodie" in French. I wonder which song they'll cover...!

Mike's shirt <3

Once again, Glee's weird relationship with sex rears its head. Why does Will care if Emma has slept with Carl? Why does the scene end on her answering him? I know I'm pretty detached on that subject compared to a lot of people but as gay dude, Ryan Murphy would probably have a vaguely similar mindset to mine on that subject. But apparently the episode was written by Brad Falchuk who, considering he's married to Gwyneth Paltrow (...), probably isn't gay. So that explains it. Still, it's weird. It's just sex. Does Will want to be Emma's first? Why? Whyyyyyyy? Who cares about virginity???

Anyway, we hear Don't Stop Believin' and at this point I'm curious how many times we heard. Twice in the pilot, at least once during the season aside from that, now this time... I was going to say that Glee could feature other Journey songs, like Any Way You Want It (because I know that song and I enjoy it) but I looked it up in Google and oops, seems like this song is part of a mashup for this very episode!

Remember when the judges were actually linked to the season's storyline? We've already seen all of them. Josh Groban for Sandy's obsession, Olivia Newton-John for her great featuring with Sue, Rod Remington and Sue herself of course. It makes them more fun to follow.

The "Queen of Hearts, King of Diamond" made-up play is NOT a reference to the "Queen of Hearts/King of Spades" song by Jackson Aide, as I initially wrote ("initially" meaning here "two seconds ago during my Google search") since that song came out in 2016. It's probably about Rachel and Finn since they rekindle their relationship in this episode.

Speaking of Finn and Rachel, they're so adorably cute in this episode.

The Journey covers are fine, I guess. "Faithfully" is typically the kind of music I won't care about. "Any Way You Want It" is disappointing but there isn't any big mistake or anything, it's just There. "Don't Stop Believin'" is nice, but I think we all prefer the pilot version, right? I'm happy Santana could sing for a bit though.

Gorgeous colors, also I got chills (they're multiplyin') from the first few seconds. The whole Bohemian Rhapsody performance is incredible and also very funny. It's humongous. Iconic. Fuck, it's good!

This painting only appears in this one specific shot. It looks a bit mythological or religious, but I couldn't find what it is. It probably implies that Shelby's actually a goddess. And, I mean, it's Idina Menzel we're talking about. It doesn't sound that far-fetched.

These, however, we can look at. The left pic is a vintage poster for an exhibit for carpets and upholstery, probably meaning that somewhere out there, in another universe, these three judges sold goods at exhibits for exorbitant prices.

The second one is a poster from 1893 drawn by Jules Chéret for the Folies Bergères French cabaret featuring Loïe Fuller, an american dancer, doing her famous serpentine dance. Seems like she was lesbian or bisexual as she spent the last 23 years of her life having a relationship with another woman (Gabrielle Bloch). We love to see it! So who's gonna write a meta about bisexual Rachel Berry based on this?

Matt has a lovely scarf. I'm gonna miss him! It's very funny that he got that line given how little time was spent on him. Matt went from "just another football player" to "just another Glee Club member". Can't say I'm very impressed!

Sue voting for ND is part of those few moments where I love her even more than just for her comedic purpose.

I actually sang Somewhere Over the Rainbow in class many years ago. I already didn't care about the song before singing it again and again, but after that I started actively disliking it. That is to say, Will's number left me completely unfazed. Oh well!

Overall, I think season 1 has quality you can't deny, but after the pilot, it peters out and only gets back up around episode 9, in time for the midseason finale, after which it is consistently solid.

[onlineisland]

Diamond dimensions 223

Checkering patterns are inclined to be both fairly extensive in coverage and fancy in execution. Weatherby Deluxe rifles have a maplewood diamond inlay in the rosewood pistol grip cap. (Models with dull synthetic stocks are also available.) Forearm and pistol grip caps of darker contrasting woods, sometimes set off by lighter line spacers, are common decorative touches. These stocks usually come with a durable high gloss finish that shows off the grain of the select walnut to beautiful advantage. Rifles with California style stocks are seldom supplied with iron sights, so the stock is designed expressly for the higher line of sight of an optical sight. Many of them have been incorporated, at least to some extent, in most other modern stock designs. All of these are functional features, particularly for the powerful magnum rifles in which Weatherby specializes. Mark V rifles also have a generous butt pad area and come with a top quality Pachmayr recoil pad. Key features of a Weatherby stock include the signature Monte Carlo comb that slants down toward the front (to align the eye with a telescopic sight and keep the comb away from the cheek bone during recoil), a cheek-piece and a small amount of cast off (a bend of the buttstock away from the face to make the rifle faster and more comfortable to mount and also to help align the eye with the scope), a forearm tapered in three dimensions with a flat bottom (to provide a good grip and a shape amenable for use over a rest), and a pistol grip with a slight flare at the bottom (to aid in good control and to prevent the hand from slipping during recoil). Roy Weatherby spawned the California school of stock design (the Weatherby Company is headquartered in California), which is epitomized by his Mark V Deluxe rifle. Aesthetic merit is always a difficult question to resolve. And, of course, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Naturally, there are variations on and combinations of these basic styles, but the rifle models in parenthesis are reasonable examples of the three main styles.Īll of these styles can be attractive if properly executed, and all can be functional. 1A) and Western (Browning 1885 High Wall, Winchester Model 94 Traditional) styles, which are functional and seem appropriate to their purpose.īolt action stocks tend toward one of three styles, which I call the European (Steyr-Mannlicher Classic, CZ 550 Lux), Modern Classic (Winchester Model 70 Featherweight, Remington Model 700 BDL, and Ruger Model 77R Mark II), and California (Weatherby Mark V Deluxe). Lever action and single shot rifles tend towards what I call the Classical (Ruger No. Most of the controversy swirls around the stocks of bolt action rifles. There are several schools of thought as to material, decoration, finish, and most of all the shape of rifle stocks. Rifle stock design is a controversial subject, and the source of much disagreement among gun buffs. Many more custom rifle stocks are built every year for US shooters than custom shotgun stocks, even though shotgun stocks are far more critical to hitting the target. It is interesting that in the United States rifle stock design has received more attention than shotgun stock design.