#still the amount of information they gather about people on the list comes from them being online or people close to them being online

[faenix-fire]

As much as joking about the fly list was fun for some of us it's time to be serious as many have said.

One of the things I want to talk about it how the US is a master of monitoring people.

The no fly list is a tip of an iceberg, an ugly head of a hydra. It should be acknowledged talked about spread around but the issue of what even allows the list in the first place has to be acknowledged too. Quite a few people end up on it for their name, background, and how they are profiled by the government. The problem is it doesn't stop there, it can start with it but it becomes an active search and they start guzzling data on these people.

So let's talk about the problem. You are a transaction while online or using any sort of WiFi or tech. They know where you are, what you buy, the content you love, the conversations you engage in. You should be scared because you may not be a person on interest that would ever be on the list in question but that doesn't matter! You shouldn't have to be in that situation to care your in danger now too, even if you don't think they're doing anything to you they are. You can blissfully ignore it because you think your safe that's exactly what they want.

The data they gather is bought and sold and even if you aren't a us citizen. Having a presence makes you a profit for websites and ads. This might not bother some people and that's exactly what they want, it won't bother you because you can't know what they know. They know what illegal activities you may get up too, they can know the type of red flags you give off to them such as having political beliefs they find wrong or a danger. They will withhold and store all sorts of data on who you are and you'll only know if they want you to. The fly list is the part of the ice above the surface, the people they are pushed around because of data collection and they're some of the people that get to know how the government sees them. It's not blissful to not know what they think of you, it's not good at all. Our acceptance of the situation is why immigrants and even children get to be treated this way by the Us. Not enough people care and that's why they win.

The no fly list is "Your a threat list" and many on it are not. There's criminals and awful people listed but they should be the only ones on it if it was actually for protection. They don't have perfect data collection and they don't care. There are a lot of gaps and data they can't get and they're okay jumping the gun on suspecting people of things, of assuming you'll take action when you won't. It's easier for them to make guess work of who you are then to actually care. They get things wrong because they don't really know who you are just your name, they can only assume who you are and share your actions around. One wrong read on the information you put out and it can change how they label you.

This is all why it's an information war, they can see rise in them monitoring topics online through the change in politics. They learn who you dislike politically and they know how much people feel about hot topics. They're using that info to counteract the spread of change within us on the internet and it's affecting the world. They are surveying as much as they can they are making efforts far in advance to attack back.

This is why there media war on protests regarding racism or climate change, it's how we have movements against trans woman harming feminism getting pushed by politicians as well as woman being painted as to selfish to make decisions about their body and becoming laws.

Surveillance is feeding propaganda and ignoring the evil of everyone online watching you even when you think your safe is why you'll never be safe if they suddenly decide to take action against you or use you to hurt people you love. If fact you've probably given data that has hurt people either in big things I mentioned above, or even little things like someone talking online about a bad thing happening that you've helped boost or interact with that's harmed a delicate situation by making it worse for being blasted.

One time I had a conversation with people in place you might think is private online and we were discussing the origin of modern conceptions of cannibalism. It was mostly historical and talking about how settlers in the US were hypocritical about it in order to hate on natives when they were doing it themselves and way more often. That discussion within an hour after gave me targeted ads about this, it recorded it and sold that information and it was paranoia inducing and messed with my delusions. I mean how often do you get ads or content online about cannibalism? Yeah it was targeted, that's what they do all of the time. After all that I changed how I use the internet because Google, your socials, they might make you happy but they are not your friend.

This is hideous evil accepted and known by everyone. It's an evil they have made you believe is okay and made you think you've come to that conclusion alone. You did not choose to be monitored, your forced to be, and there's little that can be done when you don't stand up with everyone else against it.

You don't have privacy because the police, companies, and government they don't know you, but the problem is that they think they do and that issue is ruining lives and has been for decades, it can ruin yours too.

This is the information age and they don't see you as a person they see you as the information in the war for information. Your a tool, ammunition and at the same time they can see you as an enemy at any time and for any opinion or action you might think is right.

The no fly list shouldn't exist, but stuff like it always will as long as the internet and tech is used to monitor you and know what you do. The US government does not need to know everything about people because it isn't stopping shootings, it isn't saving families. It's hurting people, families, it's seeing enemies in Muslim children, in Jewish activists, in people who don't have a reason you can spot for being put on the list and consider a danger. You can be that person without a good reason because all of the stuff I just said is a bad reason. You don't have to be a minority to find yourself deep in shit and you shouldn't have to be a minority to be scared or care about this. You should care because it's wrong that they know anything about you or love ones, at any moment they can ruin you.

In the coming years they'll want to monitor you more then they already can. The longer we sit by the less safe everyone is by the day.

A lot of people will say that you should try to block and hide yourself online, you can! I don't think it solves the problem. To solve this issue we have to make the data collection useless either by it making not sense or by everyone becoming red flags. I don't know exactly what to purpose but if anyone has suggestions feel free.

[letoasai]

dp x dc 2 Mother Gotham

 I had... zero intention of continuing this.... and i still.. have zero intention of continuing... lol i don’t know how this part 2 happened XD Please enjoy or feel free to take it   ~

Part 1      Master List  Constantine stared. 

He’d had very, very little time to learn everything he thought he needed to know about the Ghost King through his contacts and as an adult, he didn’t like what he’d heard so far. He might not be the most responsible bloke but damn it, he wasn’t okay with a fourteen year old taking on so much pressure after what was likely a traumatic death. 

He learned very little other than how young he was, how well liked he was, and how he’d not only earned the respect of many ancients, but befriended them. A good section of his contacts refused to answer any questions about him at all, stating at they didn’t want to cause trouble for the king. 

It was commendable but fucking frustrating. He had to find his boy and his sister and take them to both Lady Gotham and Batman. He’d had a headache all night. 

Constantine wasn’t a stranger to the occult, not by a long shot. He was rather the Justice League’s resident expert, but his lack of knowledge surrounding Amity Park was inexcusable. He had no idea how an entire town went unnoticed but he was going to find out. 

The amount of liminals in one place was ridiculous but he’d have to actually go there to gather more information on these teenagers. As things were, he was waiting at the Gotham welcome Center at the appointed time and was always startled by the amount of activity there. People coming and going. Gothamites were unfazed by the gloom of the city and newcomers were often transfixed by their first taste of a city that harbored so many curses. 

Few were able to understand that it was Lady Gotham stretching her non-corporeal limbs. 

He’d only been there an hour, and he had no description of these teenagers. He should have just asked Bruce. The man had probably somehow already tracked down everything on these kid right down to their favorite colors, but he hadn’t honestly thought he’d need anything like that. Turns out... he was right.

Constantine had just lit another cigarette when the room got cold. He glanced around the room, eyes zeroing in on a hooded figure, a NASA logo printed across the front. He slid up to a vending machine, pushing a dollar in and punching in the numbers for whatever snack he wanted. 

The kid was so unassuming. He could have been any random teenager. The strangest thing about him was that he had a thermos dangling off his belt and stars had been drawn on his shoes in what looked like marker. 

He bent to pick up his snack, but when he turned, he was already pinning Constantine with a stare. 

He wasn’t used to a kid being the one to pick him out in a crowd, but this one…well… Constantine wasn’t about to question his qualifications as royalty. When Constantine did nothing, the teens head cocked to the side in confusion. It was a far too long moment where they did nothing but stare at one another from across the room. 

The staring contest was broken when a red headed young woman exited the nearby bathroom and slid up behind her brother, a hand on his shoulder and a question on her lips. She was definitely liminal, and not as human as they both likely had been once. Not that that mattered to him. It was just one more piece of information to file away for later. The Ghost King silently nodded in his direction, and now there were two piercing gazes in his direction.

 There was something about the sister he couldn’t put his finger on but it would be a bloody cold day in hell before he purposely pissed her off. She was definitely the type to be her brothers keeper, and someone with that kind of sway over the Ghost King was no one to fuck around with. 

He inhaled once more, enjoying the smoke filling his lungs before he hauled himself off the bench he’d been occupying to head towards them. 

“Welcome to Gotham. I’m your one man welcoming committee.” He greeted.

 “Who sent you?” The redhead asked. 

“Got a name?” The Ghost King asked right after. 

They were paranoid, but he didn’t blame them for that. Whatever had them running likely wasn’t friendly. The boy's eyes were rimmed with dark circles and there were bruises along his jaw and neck. His sister wasn’t injury free either. She was holding one of her arms to her chest. Possibly a dislocated shoulder or elbow. “John Constantine. Member of the Justice League Dark.” 

He never would have introduced himself like that normally but he was dealing with a King and well... spooked kids. 

“Dark?” The brother and sister exchanged a look. 

Constantine grunted. “We deal with the magical nasties and what not. I was summoned to Gotham to greet you, Majesty.” 

The Ghost King didn’t wince, but there was a tick to his jaw.  “Danny.” He corrected. “This is my sister, Jazz.” 

“Who was it who summoned you?” Jazz asked, her good arm wrapped around one of her brother’s. 

Constantine nodded to Danny. “His mother. Dunno your full story, but i was led to believe this was your actual mother.” 

Danny’s lips pinched. “That is what Clockwork said…” He muttered to his sister who nodded, though she didn’t look overly trusting. 

“And you have no connection to the GIW?” She bulldozed right through. 

Constantine’s eyes narrowed. “Bloody fuck is that?” 

They exchanged another look. “The Ghost Investigation Ward.” 

“The fuck?” He inhaled again, pulling the cigarette away from his mouth. “What’s their problem?” 

Danny’s brows lowered, a soft, quiet, and mostly certainly deadly sort of anger in that look. “Hunting and experimenting on my people for sport.” 

Constantine tsked, but it did nothing to truly betray how pissed off that made him. “Sounds like a couple of pretenders messing around in my neck of the woods. Thanks for the tip. I’ll be looking into that.” He paused to pull out his cell phone and make a note of them. “No, I’m a right bastard for sure but meddling with the Infinite Realm is a major no-no.”

The Ghost King’s ire lessened somewhat, but the faint glow to Jazz’s eyes hadn’t yet waned. “Why were you picked to escort us?” 

“Probably because i’m one of few around that could hear the call. Your mother has been making arrangements for the both of you. I’ll take you to her first and then to where you’ll be living.” They weren’t a very trusting pair, but he had to assume they had every reason to be cautious. 

Danny finally heaved a sigh and took his sister’s hand. “Fine. It’s a leap but only a lunatic would claim to be in the Justice League when they weren’t.”

 Constantine didn’t react to that, he didn’t want to worry the kid about how many lunatics there actually were. The laugh he’d have over this kid looking like Wayne adoption bait would have to wait. 

“Besides, one wail will take out a good chunk of Gotham, so i’m sure you won’t do anything stupid.” Danny continued. 

“Noted…” Constantine said dryly. He was getting shitfaced tonight. 

~

 Danny rather liked Gotham. Sure he’d barely seen any of it but the ambient ectoplasm was more than enough to sustain him. There weren’t many people who could say that kind of thing energized them but Danny sure could. Jazz could to a lesser extent. It was almost like home, except hopefully less volatile. 

Constantine showed them to his car that smelled like alcohol, cigarettes and magic and took off with them. He didn’t even seem to mind Danny opening and eating his bag of chips. He knew Jazz wasn’t in a trusting mood. He wasn’t either but Clockwork had told him bits about his mother. Had told him to follow his core and he’d find his mother. So far… he was satisfied with the direction they were headed. 

He stifled a yawn but tired tears sprung to his eyes anyway. He had no idea what time it was anymore. Gotham was so dark but there were people out on the street. It could have been noon or midnight and he was too lazy to even pull out his phone and check. It didn’t matter when his master plan was to get himself and Jazz somewhere safe and then sleep for hours. 

When Constantine finally pulled his car to a stop and got out, it had started to drizzle just a little. It wasn’t enough rain to even really get them wet, it was just vaguely annoying. The streets were startlingly vacant compared to the ones they’ve driven passed before and this was obviously an older section of the city. 

Having just arrived, Danny and Jazz didn’t know all the districts in Gotham yet but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that this wasn’t main street. Constantine headed towards an old bridge, pieces of it having crumbled away from age but the architecture had obviously once been top tier. 

“Where are we?” Jazz asked, keeping close to Danny, her voice only just above a whisper but Constantine heard her. 

“The meeting point.” 

Danny frowned, but he held out an arm to keep his sister behind him. His core fluttered in his chest, and he recognized that something was coming. He tried to pinpoint exactly what it was but the feeling was something altogether new though it reminded him of Clockwork or Pandora. 

With a gentle wave of power, she appeared. A woman, cloaked with gargoyle like features. She could have been made of stone but she approached them cautiously. “Daneil.” She whispered, and he felt her voice wash over him with emotion. Pride. Pride. Pride. Regret. Pain. Joy. 

Confused. Relaxed. “Was that my name?” he asked. He’d been so terribly small when the Fenton’s had caught him but he could see how his name could have gotten twisted around at some point. “Are you…?” 

Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. 

“This is Lady Gotham.” Constantine said, probably for Jazz and Danny’s benefit. 

She moved, fazing in and out of existence and stopping just out of reach. “Son…” she whispered, the emotion nearly dropping him to his knees. All of her attention was on him. When was the last time he’d had that from a parental figure? 

Danny stared back at her, her green eyes so familiar. He reached up to touch his cheek under his own blue eyes. It was a wonder she could even recognize him. Sure he felt the same but he was half human. Half alive. That didn’t matter to her? 

Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter. 

Danny exhaled shakily, falling into his shift. The rings of light circled around his middle before spreading out and revealing his ghost half. White hair topped with a black crown and green eyes matching the spirits. 

Constantine cursed softly under his breath, taking several steps away. 

“Oh, don’t be a wuss.” Jazz chuckled. “He’s not after you.” 

“Not taking any chances with all that,” he said. 

Danny couldn’t help his faint smile at that. “Daneil.” Lady Gotham reached out slowly, cupping his face. She didn’t feel like stone for all she looked like it. She was cool to the touch and he wondered what her core was. She felt familiar. Like he’d met her before. That made sense if she were his mother but after all this time, there was this connection that clicked into place.

 I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Lost you. Lost you. 

Here now. Here now. “It’s okay.” Danny muttered, barely even registering that the bruises on his face were disappearing. “It’s not your fault.” He dared to move, stepping into her space to hug her. She trilled in affection, holding him tightly while Danny chirped his automatic response. When was the last time Maddie had hugged him? 

Jazz could make him purr or chirp in affection but had his parents ever? He’d known Lady Gotham for all of a handful of minutes and already he felt safe in her haunt. It was far safer than his in Amity. 

Welcome. Welcome. Missed you. Missed you. “Daneil.” She said his name like a prayer. Voice quiet but filled with affection. 

“Guess i’m staying here for a while.” He muttered, his core humming. He pulled away from the hug, silently wondering if he’d ever grow horns or something like Lady Gotham when he glanced back over at his sister. She was waiting patiently, still cradling her arm. He’d managed to pop it back into it’s socket but it was terribly tender. “What do you think?” 

“I’m staying if you’re staying.” Jazz said simply. 

“Good child.” Lady Gotham whispered. She vanished from in front of Danny and reappeared next to Jazz. Thank you, Thank you. Thank you. 

Jazz couldn’t always make out the words in emotions but she felt them all the same. Her smile was warm. “He’s my little brother. I love him. I had to come along.” 

She hadn’t. She could have lived a normal life. She could have left him behind. She didn’t have to act as his shield when their parents found out about him. She didn’t have to but she did. She’d never abandoned him. 

Welcome. 

“We’ll figure it out, Jazz. Promise.” 

Lady Gotham reached slowly, taking Jazz’s hands. Thank you. Her immense power shifted again and Jazz gasped in surprise. Danny raised a brow but grinned at the drop of Gotham’s power that flowed into his sister. It sped her healing up, taking away the ache in her arm. He guessed Jazz would become a stronger liminal than she already was. 

Constantine cursed again. “This just doesn’t happen…” he muttered. 

Danny could tell though, his mother was amused. 

“Jasna.” Lady Gotham spoke clearly, pleased with herself. 

“Wait… what?” Jazz looked confused, trying to read the emotions that were being sent to her. It was a mouthful, and amounted to… The sister of my son is also mine. 

“Renamed by an ancient…” Constantine was shaking his head, pulling out a flask from his jacket pocket. Names were powerful… you couldn’t just hand them out… But he was not about to argue with Lady Gotham. 

Danny snickered. “You can still keep your nickname, Jazz.” He felt… calm. He was happy to be here. He liked Gotham because it was safe and his mother was here and everything suddenly felt like it would be okay after all. He and Jazz could start over. 

“Jasna…” Jazz repeated, testing it out. “Thank you.” After everything that had happened.., she could use a mother figure.

Lady Gotham seemed so satisfied. She turned back to Danny, hugging him again, even the wings on her arms fluttered with delight to have her child back. 

My son. My son. 

Danny smiled, wondering if it was like this for all ghost children when their parents were near. He’d have to call Ellie and have her swing by to see if she felt the same way he did. “We’ll figure everything out…” He paused and looked back at Constantine. “You were taking us somewhere else too?” 

“Yeah.” He was flicking his lighter on and off, likely considering another smoke. “Lady Gotham is entrusting you to someone who will also have a hand in keeping you safe. She hand picked him and everything.” 

“We just need an apartment… and…” Jazz frowned a little. They’d talked about it a little and Danny had hated the idea of his sister giving up on school for even a week. 

“Not necessary.” Constantine said dryly. “You’ll be fine.” 

“Where…are we going exactly?” Danny asked, looking at his mother again. He was so strangely pleased that they had the same eyes. 

She laughed, actually laughed. He felt her excitement in her bones. She pointed up into the air and only a few beats later, the bat signal was spread across the sky, glowing against the smog and clouds. 

“That’s…” Jazz blinked, who could have planned for this? 

“No way.” Danny stared at the glowing signal. Everyone knew what that meant. He looked to Constantine again who only nodded his confirmation. His mother was still laughing, enjoying the moment. “We’re staying with Batman!?” ~~ ~~

I really didn’t intend to continue this, i’m not sure it’ll happen again. I have no confidence in writing for the Batfam. If anyone is interested, go for it. 

Tag list. 

@meira-3919 @choppedphantomsweets @kisatamao @thewondersoflebanon @emergentpanda-blog @epilepticnerd @paroovian @blep-23 @addie-lover-of-stories @phoenixdemonqueen @bianca-hooks123 @crystallicedart @observethevoid @jaytriesstuff @skulld3mort-1fan @icedbluesoul @rosecinnamonbun @nixthenerd @oterion @lexdamo @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @villian-lover7899 

[icryaboutit]

It was all acting?!

SUMMARY: Imagine, somewhere in the timeline of Twst, Vil asked for GenZ!Yuu's assistance when one of the actors failed to show due to reasons. So GenZ!Yuu of course agreed to it cause why not. And the real kicker to it all is that the person they were replacing is a lover who got their heart broken, so crying was involved. Now IMAGINE, the sheer amount of suppressed trauma GenZ!Yuu have finally had a reason to come out.

or something along those lines

TAGS: Male Yuu, OOC, Angst?

WORD COUNT: 1,290 words

"What do you mean, they can't come?!"

The high-pitched voice of Vil's manager echoed through the place, garnering much attention from nearby crowds.

"Keep quiet Adeline, you are garnering unwanted attention."

Vil's calm yet somehow tired voice came from behind his manager, making her look at him with a distressed expression.

"How can I stay calm Vil! One of our actor is unreachable! And today is a big day!"

She exclaimed, clearly today's event was something that was of great importance. Which it is, the current event at play may help Vil rise in more fame, hell! It might even help him finally beat Neige LeBlanche.

"I know how important this is Adeline. But there is no need to fret and stress over something that we couldn't have known would occur."

"But Vil-!"

"Hmm? What's going on?"

This snapped the two out from their own world arguing, when a familiar voice had interrupted their talk.

"Ah, potato, what brings you here?"

Vil greeted, as Yuu stood there with some things in hand.

"Rook had asked of me to deliver this for you Vil-san."

Yuu said as he gave the stuff on his hand to Adeline.

"Thank you potato."

"No problem~ Rook promised to give me some trinkets for this trip so it wasn't really free labor."

Yuu explained with a shrug, as Vil looked at him up and down with calculating gaze. Feeling this, Yuu decided to make a quick ran for it.

"Well, then... I'll be off no-"

"Wait a minute, potato."

'Damn!'

"What is it Vil-san..?"

Yuu cautiously asked, knowing whatever Vil halted him for would end up in a disaster.

"Potato, how would you like to star in-"

"No thank you~!"

Yuu sweated bullets as he declined Vil's offer in a swift move,

"You haven't even heard the proposal yet potato."

"Whatever Vil-san was about to say, my senses were telling me that such sacred duties are bound for a much fortunate soul~!"

In short, "Hell, no, fuck off!" was what Yuu wanted to give off which was brutally ignored by Vil's next choice of words.

"Oh~? Do you think my eyes would deceive me once I see talent potato? You must have mistaken me for someone else's personality."

In short, "Give up, you have no choice." And thus, getting the message, Yuu was added in the list of actors at the last minute.

"Where did Yuu go?! I can't find him anywhere!"

"Henchman! Where are you!?"

"Maybe he just went to the bathroom?"

"HUMAN! REVEAL YOURSELF! YOU MUSN'T MAKE WAKA-SAMA WAIT!"

"You guys need to calm down..."

"Bold of ya ta even think they'll just calm down."

Currently, a group of first years were looking for a certain Yuu who still hasn't come on their meeting place.

Despite their current shenanigans, all of the first years were deeply worried as they wondered what kind of mess Yuu had gotten themselves involved in just by being in the area.

*Ping*

The sound of the notification on all of the first years' phones rang, informing them of the message that they had received.

Opening the message they were greeted by a text from the same person they were looking for.

YesImYuu: Can't make it guyz~!😥 Vil-san has me trapped!😭You guyz can go ahead and go🤧😞 AND BETTER BE ON TIME!😤

"..."

"So he's fine, good to know."

Jack who was the calmest exhaled in relief knowing that Yuu was alright. He then proceeded to push the flabbergasted group towards the entrance.

"So I can say whatever I want?"

"Yeah, we just need a way for people to gather towards us so that the plot can be constructed... I guess, I'm not sure either."

Yuu was conversing with his partner who was as clueless as him, since the one who got information about everything was the one who was currently unavailable.

"Okay... So like, do you have anything particular topic in mind?"

"Well I mean, we just need to cause a commotion that will enable Schoenheit-senpai and the female lead to meet through the crowd. And we thought, what better crowd gathering option there is but a lover's quarrel..."

At the mention of the words lover's quarrel, Yuu had a bright idea popping into his mind.

"Oh~! Then how about-"

And this was the start of the famous lover's quarrel, staring the prefect of NRC and some dude from Pomefiore.

The play had started, and just as Vil and his manager had expected, the theme garnered a lot of attention. Adeline only prayed that the scene where Vil and the female lead would end up meeting would be a success. Considering that Vil had made a choice to add an outsider the last minute.

The moment that scene appeared, the first years who were either only there for the free food, or because of some reasons or just genuine support, had their eyes widen at the sight of Yuu with some pomefiore guy as they argued in the background their voices inaudible.

Not to mention the prefect had a dress on, along with longer hair, and makeup that brought out his feminine side.

It wasn't only the first years who were shocked. Everyone who was somewhat close or friends with Yuu was flabbergasted and shocked to see him acting on the stage. Even more shocked as the play continues.

"Who are you referring to?"

Yuu's face contorted into that of confusion and anger.

"Camilla."

The man spat with a look of indifference. The fake crowd on the stage was now genuinely intrigued by what was happening with him and Yuu, as they crowded over the two who were "arguing".

"Why would I care about her?!"

"Because I care about her!!"

At the sudden explosion of emotion from the man the people couldn't help but flinch at it.

Yuu who was on the receiving end looked like he wanted to scoff at the unbelievable proclamation.

"Morning, noon, and night I care about her!.. And you hurt her."

The man looked angrier by the second, the look of insanity dancing in his eyes. Yuu on the other hand was silent, but his eyes told everyone his true feelings on the matter.

"If you hurt her... You hurt me."

There was silence as there was tension, the people watched in great apprehension as they watched the scene unfold.

The man held a broken and emotionless smile, as he stared at Yuu who held and expressed nothing on his face.

"Camilla is who I want, that is where my loyalties lie, that is who my priority is."

"Not the mother of your children?"

Gasps were heard as a big revelation came. The sky darkens as the weather visibly shifted to a much gloomier setting.

"Don't bring the boys into this."

"Alright, not the woman you married!!"

"I refuse to be blamed any longer for this grotesque misalliance! I wash my hands of it!"

It was then that thunder strike, yet none were paying any attention to the weird weather changes as they watched the two on stage.

*Slap*

It was also the time that Yuu seemed to have enough, as he raised his hands in the air, a resounding slap echoed through the stage. Yuu looked at the man with an unreadable expression, but the tears that fell from his eyes held every ounce of emotion that was left for the man in front of him.

Gasps were heard, and the sudden movement made the crowd move suddenly, as they unconsciously pushed off a woman from the crowd, who happened to be the female lead. Only to be caught by Vil, who happened to have positioned himself there.

Nothing about that act was in the plan. But in the end, the play ran smoothly.

[naussensei]

Satosugu's First Mission

“Not gonna lie, this is a little depressing.” Said Suguru, kneeling to inspect the lower Ferris wheel carts. “Why did our first mission together have to be in a grim place like this?

“Easy.” Said Satoru, he was doing the same thing on the other side of the ride. “Places like this hold large amounts of cursed energy. All the emotions from the people who came here. It lingers.”

“I would’ve thought this was a place for happy memories only.” Suguru said, trying to pry open a rusty door handle. He grimaced as it fell off, and he wiped the rust off his hand with a look of disgust. “Isn’t this where kids come for birthdays or something?”

“And where couples come for dates and stuff. Exactly.” Satoru agreed as he stood up. “But anywhere people gather can turn into a curse hotspot. Subway stations, shopping centers, amusement parks. Just imagine – the kids scared of heights, couples breaking up, parents arguing… the list goes on.”

It was no surprise to Suguru now that Satoru could be quite knowledgeable sometimes. Not that he would ever tell him that to feed his ego, but he could still acknowledge it in his mind. 

They continued to inspect the ride together, Satoru in the front, climbing up the next cart, pulling Suguru up. He was just about to keep climbing when something occurred to him.

“So, couples, huh?” He said in the most nonchalant way he could manage, to hide his discomfort with the subject. He didn’t know a single thing about dates, or amusement parks for that matter, he had never been to either of them, and the thought of Satoru having more experience than him was almost humiliating. “Is that like, a thing? People go to theme parks for dates?”

“Duh, obviously.” Satoru said with a confident grin, then paused for a moment. “I mean… I guess. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway.”

Suguru’s curiosity was piqued. “Have you ever been on a date?” he asked.

Satoru scoffed, inspecting the inside of the cart. “Do you think the strongest sorcerer has time for dating?”

Suguru couldn’t help but grin. “So you haven’t.”

“Have you ?” Satoru countered.

“Me?” Suguru said, smiling with resignation. “Do you think the biggest weirdo in the normie world has time for dating?”

Satoru turned to him then, and Suguru was taken aback for a moment. The moonlight poured through the shattered window, casting a faint glow on Satoru’s face. Suguru couldn’t see his eyes behind the shades, which made him feel a bit uneasy, but by Satoru’s expression he seemed to be assessing something carefully, something that Suguru could not quite figure out.

“Fair,” Satoru finally said, and the moment he turned away again, Suguru caught a glimpse of a faint smile. The slightest feeling of satisfaction warmed Suguru’s chest when he did, because for once, he’d made Satoru laugh more than once in a night. Suguru’s own smile grew then, too, because he knew the meaning of that subtle smile. It was the perpetuation of a silent ‘were not that different after all’ that Satoru would never voice, but he didn’t have to. 

“By the way… Shoko has never been on a date either.” Satoru said with putty lips, as if that made the situation more acceptable for them.  “Not that I know, anyway. I never see her talk to any guys, other than Kusakabe.”

“Uh, right…” Suguru uttered. He had a good idea as to why he hadn’t seen her talking to guys, but he would not be the one to tell him that. For all he knew, Satoru could be interested in her. He’d rather redirect the subject to them again.

“16 and not a single date.” Suguru said, taking a seat on the worn bench to look out the window. “What a bunch of losers.”

“I’m still 15 for your information.”

“Yeah?” Suguru’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “When’s your birthday?”

“Why?” Satoru’s eyebrows rose even higher than his as he grinned. He bent down to Suguru’s eye level. “Are you gonna buy me a present? Otherwise I won’t tell you.”

Suguru sank back into his seat a little, yet held his grin. “Sure. I may, actually. That’s… if we don’t die tonight.”

“Dumbass.” Satoru scoffed, rising to kick Suguru softly on the shin. “Nobody is dying tonight.”

He collapsed on the seat in front of him, hands still in his pockets, the weak cart wobbling a little as he did. Then he looked outside the broken window. Suguru did so as well.

The night was still as ever, a cool breeze seeped through the hole in the window. It was dark and cold, but somehow, it was not unpleasant at all. Suddenly, Suguru did not feel like moving anywhere.

“December 7th,” said Satoru all of a sudden.

It took a moment for Suguru to realize he was talking about his birthday. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said with a smile.

Satoru cocked his head at him. “Yours?”

“February 3rd.” Suguru shrugged, giving him an apologetic smile. “Turned 15 this year.”

“Ah, that’s not fair.”

“You kinda already gave me a birthday present.” Said Suguru, taking out his new phone from his pocket. 

“Oh, that’s right!” Satoru said excitedly, moved to sit beside him and take the phone from him, no permission asked whatsoever. His face glowing with an excitement that Suguru could not relate to, but enjoyed watching in Satoru either way. “Did you change your wallpaper already? What tune did you customize it with?”

“I haven’t.” Admitted Suguru, slowly taking his phone back and moving closer to the window to make some space between them, and felt that if he moved any further he would fall out the cart. “We’re on a mission, Satoru. Now it’s not the–”

“Oh, give me that. It takes five seconds. I’ll send you one from my phone.” Said Satoru, his fingers already working on it before Suguru could even decline. 

Suguru watched him do so in silence. It was a good thing at least one of them seemed to be entertained.

“Here you go, loser.” Satoru said as he threw his phone back to Suguru with a playful smile.

“Thanks.” Suguru chuckled. “So, how does it feel to know you're just as much of a loser as I am when it comes to dating?”

Satoru rested his hands behind his head and sighed. “Feels pretty fucking terrible, not gonna lie.”

“Hmm,” Suguru brought a hand to his chin and looked up, thoughtfully. “Well, we can count this as a date. Kinda feels like it, doesn’t it?“

“Uh, no… pretty sure it doesn’t.” 

“How would you know if you've never been on a date?”

“Right,” Satoru scoffed, “because chasing cursed objects in a shitty place like this sounds very romantic.”

Suguru’s smile was smug. “Didn't take you as a romantic.”

“I’m not.” Satoru elbowed him softly. “Now stop talking and focus on the mission. ”

“Why?” Suguru’s grin grew wider. “Are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not.” Satoru said, averting his gaze, hand still behind his head. “I just wanna get this over with quickly. I don’t want Yaga or Yamato to yell at us for taking so long.”

Suguru leaned forward, seeking Satoru’s avoidant gaze. “We can still count it as a date and feel a little better about ourselves.” He said with a comforting smile, but Satoru had just stood to move out of the cart and begin their descent. Suguru followed closely behind.

“We’ll just omit the part about it being with a friend.” He insisted as they landed on the ground. Seeing that Satoru would not react, he added with a playful wink. “I won’t tell if you don’t tell.”

“Ugh,” Satoru hung his head forward. “Why are you talking so much today? You never talk. I liked you better when you were quiet.”

“Oh?” Suguru speeded up the pace to walk by his side. “Are you saying you did like me before?”

“Do you ever shut up?” Satoru whined as he dragged his feet to continue their way to the next ride. 

Suguru circled closely around him to walk on his other side.  “But you’re always complaining that I’m too quiet and boring, and that I try to be ‘mysterious’ and don't share enough about myself, and now suddenly you don't want me to talk?”

Satoru rolled his eyes and made a disgusted face. “And you couldn’t have picked a better time than in the middle of a fucking–”

Suguru could not hear the end of Satoru’s sentence. His voice was swallowed by the deafening roar that came from under their feet, the same kind they had heard back in the shopping mall earlier, but several times louder and more unsettling. They looked at the ground, exchanged a glance, and looked down again. The earth rumbled under their feet briefly, until it went quiet again.

“What was that?” Suguru said, catching his breath, his heart still jumping in his throat.

“A curse, evidently.” Even Satoru seemed a little startled. Though he quickly composed himself, and was now gazing up at the buildings, eyes moving rapidly, as though machinating a plan.

“Curse?” Suguru chuckled ironically . “More like a giant animal. I thought we were after a cursed object, not freaking Godzilla.”

“It definitely seems like a big one.” Satoru agreed, gaze still upwards as he began to look for a way up. “We should climb higher, to get a better visual. It may not be the only one around.”

“Wait,” Suguru stopped in his tracks, holding Satoru by an arm. “I have an idea.”

From: Our Last Summer in Ao3

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

Choose - Lose

First posted: April 2, 2019

Focuses on: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, and Bruce Wayne

Favorite bookmark: "cried again. i will cry another time"

Second favorite bookmark: "fuck yeah"

Tier: Pretty middle of the road.

This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Thoughts below the cut.

This one. was. wild. At 699 words, I think it's my shortest (just checked, it is) and one of my more uhhh experimental pieces.

At some point in 2018-19, I read Raisin Delight by @lemonadegarden, who is an evil genius. I read it and it broke my entire brain and also my heart. It it one of the few fics I remember my name instead of a Friends-esque description. I don't know when exactly I read it because I don't know how long the emotions it inspired had to rattle around in me before they splorted out this fic in response. I wrote it all in one sitting, if I remember correctly. I don't remember getting stuck or having to backtrack. It being so short helped as well. It was—as you can tell by comparing the works—less about what happened in the fic and responding to that the way one might via a sequel or even going "I like that but what if you..." and more about be feeling many, many things around the concept presented and just needing to barf emotions into a brown paper bag.

They stood side by side, shoulders angled outward, faces on the horizon. The wind rose, lashing stinging grains of sands against their skin before dying down again.

No philosophical intro on this one. It's too short and the tone is all wrong for that kind of introduction. There was no question about sidestepping my usual chattiness and dropping in midscene. Like I said, wrote it all in one sitting, bang, done.

I did try to make each word and image count, though I'm no Ann Leckie and probably could/should have done an even finer job of it, but I do feel like the first two sentences packed in a decent amount of information.

Tim looked to the empty space where the time traveler had stood, a forgettable man with a forgettable face in a forgettable shabby brown suit, and had made his unforgettable offer.

I blame Agatha Christie for this imagery, if I blame anyone.

Bruce, face bare, t-shirt wrinkling in the wind, had sucked in a sharp breath.

This was important, them, as civilians, as people, as a father and his sons, not in costume, not with their gear and tools and weapons. This isn't Batman being forced to choose between his Robins.

In the air, a chopper whined. In the distance, a truck rumbled. A small, caped figure hurried across the dunes.

Fun fact: Even though this fic is so short I have slightly more insight than usual because I was able to pull up my chat history with @audreycritter from right after I wrote it and then surprised her with it, which is the only way I know that I was at work when I started thinking about debt and histories and timelines and realized that Jason's death was the only reason Tim joined Fam, that everyone else would have made their way in eventually but he needed Jason to die to make it and how guilty that might make him feel if he realized it, and then I remembered "Raisin Delight" (still at work) and just about lost it.

Literally at 5:03 PM on 4/1/19 I'm listing different takes I'd love to read and tell Audrey "Or some twisted scenario where a time traveler takes them back and gives them the choice. I couldn't do that one. but I would read it. Maybe. Through my fingers."

... Annnnnd by 7:43 PM on the same day I'm casually texting Audrey "hey off the top of your head by chance do you remember how Jason and Sheila got to the warehouse?" Which is how the above sentence comes into being.

(By 8:31 PM, the fic was already done.)

The traveler disappeared.

This was very much a no-answers fic. Who was that guy? Why was he doing this? How did he find them? Were they all together or did he gather them from separate places? How are they going to get back when they're done?

Answer: Don't wooooorrryyyyyyy 'bout it

Tim’s place with Bruce was bought with blood. Paid for by the death of another boy. Without the sucking, gaping void of Jason’s absence, there was no role for Tim. There would be no grief for Bruce. No reckless rage to tamp down. No despair to fight back. No place for a lonely boy from down the hill. No reason to make the walk to the Manor’s front door.

My thesis statement (paragraph.)

Beside him, Bruce swayed. Forward, as if to step, as if pulled beyond his control. Then backward, rocked by the horror, repelled by the choice.

This is the horror of the fic. Bruce cannot choose. He cannot choose one child over another. Like unbreakable-law-of-the-universe cannot, divisible by zero cannot. But not choosing is choosing, so he can't choose and he can't not choose, and if one of his sons didn't choose for him, he was going to spontaneously combust into antimatter, I think.

Beyond, Jason stood still as granite. Frozen. Hard. Petrified by the glare of Medusa. 

Contrast with Jason, who doesn't dare move a muscle.

The numbness hadn’t yet made it to Tim’s heart. It gave a twinge of surprise that they hadn't moved. Was it up to him again, then? To push Bruce into action? To do what must be done?

Contrast with Tim (the Robin who does what must be done, who exists to help Bruce and keep him on the right path), who assumed Jason must be the one saved, because as he goes on to explain, Jason dies. He gets beaten, tortured, blown apart, killed, buried, and resurrected in his own grave. Tim... well, Tim will lose his heart and happiness and the only true family he's ever known, but he won't know that.

Or, to quote myself:

He would wake, alive and whole, in his own bed. He wouldn’t even notice the hole where his heart had been. He would live, but he would lose.

Some version of those two words were always the options for the fic, because it's about choosing and losing (not or. and.) But the options listed in the chat were:

Choose. Lose.

Choose / Lose

Choose - Lose

and then lots of grumping about how, grammatically, Choose, Lose and Choose; Lose are both more accurate but I loathed them.

Bruce had gone white. Jason had gone green.

A clever commenter thought this was a reference to the Pit. It wasn't, just nausea (watching yourself walk to a horrible end) and maybe a small nod to Megan Whalen Turner. I like the thought, though.

Tim took a step forward. Then another. A hand encircled his wrist, held him fast. The trigger callus scraped against his skin.

Like I said. Bruce could never choose or not choose. He needed his sons to make the choice for themselves. There was never another universe where he stopped Tim or let him go. It had to be Tim's choice to go and lose his future just as it had to be Jason's choice to stop him and accept what he had.

And lastly, a commenter left essentially a dictation of the dialogue she had with her mother (who doesn't read fic or know anything about DC) telling her what happened in this fic, and it made my entire life.

[freedompanda]

For my American Friends

I feel now is a good time to spread this news. Much like how the internet came together to help share information with the Ukrainians for resisting Russia, I’m here delivering help of a similar nature to those that could be impacted by this latest election in the US. There are ways to communicate relatively securely, outside of Big Brother's social media. I bring this up so that we can minimize the amount of gatherable information that could be used to hurt you, or others you know, in the coming years as changes are made. I'm not going to tell you how or why to use them, I'm just going to provide you with the information.

WhatsApp – While not my personal favorite, since Facebook/Meta is the parent company, WhatsApp is free, globally popular, and widely-used, featuring the ability to lock chats with passwords, disappearing messages, photos and videos that are deleted after being opened, profile photo privacy, the ability to lock the app itself so that only your biometrics can unlock it, encrypted backups, the ability to set custom permissions for who can see you online or when you last used the app, and of course End-to-End Encryption for all conversations EXCEPT those with business accounts. WhatsApp is a good option for those who are not really technically savvy, but still value privacy – if one trusts Facebook/Meta to adequately protect their privacy. It does require a phone number to sign up, however.

Signal - Signal is an end-to-end encrypted messaging software. meaning that the contents of your conversation is secure. The protocol they use (which they created) is seen as the best known protocol for asynchronous messaging by cybersecurity researchers. It's so good that it has been implemented in WhatsApp and in Messenger's secret chats. This app has even been mentioned in the Right-wing author Jack Carr's Political Thriller about a Navy SEAL named James Reece, as being a preferred method of secure communication on the civilian side for operators. (Jack Carr is a former US Navy SEAL.) It's run by a Non-Profit organization called Signal Foundation, and it's mission is to "protect free expression and enable secure global communication through open source privacy technology." It allows secure messaging, voice calls, and video calls. The only downside is that app links to your phone number, so while your conversations and content are secure, who you are talking to is not. Signal is available on Windows, Mac, Andriod, Linus, and iOS.

Session - Session is an end-to-end encrypted messenger that minimises sensitive metadata, designed and built for people who want absolute privacy and freedom from any form of surveillance. Session is an open-source, public-key-based secure messaging application which uses a set of decentralized storage servers and an onion routing protocol to send end-to-end encrypted messages with minimal exposure of user metadata. This means no phone numbers, no metadata for digital footprints, and censorship resistance. It features group chats, the ability to send documents, files, and images securely, and has added voice messages, though these can be spotty. It’s slow, but effective, and be downloaded on Android, F-Droid, iPhone, Mac, Windows, and Linux.

Briar - If you have an Android phone, Briar is another option you have. It features a decentralized network (it’s peer-to-peer encrypted, rather than relying on a central server), meaning messages are synced directly between user devices. It also means that even if the internet is down, it can sync via Bluetooth, Wi-Fi, or even memory cards, meaning information can continue to flow even during a crisis. In the event the internet is functioning, it can sync via the Tor network, protecting users and their relationships from surveillance. Other features: - Screenshots and screen recording are disabled by default - Each user’s contact list is encrypted and stored on her own device. - Briar’s end-to-end encryption prevents keyword filtering, and because of its decentralized design there are no servers to block. - Every user who subscribes to a forum keeps a copy of its content, so there’s no single point where a post can be deleted. - Briar’s forums have no central server to attack, and every subscriber has access to the content even if they’re offline. - Doesn’t require any user data like name and phone number. The downside is that it is text-only and limited to Android Devices, but they do offer Briar Mailbox to deliver messages securely to those who are online at different times. Briar’s goal is “to enable people in any country to create safe spaces where they can debate any topic, plan events, and organize social movements”

Protonmail - A free end-to-end encrypted AND zero-access encryption email service based out of Switzerland, you can safely email with peace of mind that your content is secure. Unlike Google, Outlook, Yahoo, and others, Proton's zero-access encryption means they can't even view the contents of your emails or attachments. As a Swiss-owned company they are not allowed to share information with foreign law enforcement under criminal penalty and they are politically neutral, meaning they won't be pressured by foreign governments. Furthermore, Switzerland has a constitutional right to privacy and strict data protection laws. Unlike companies in other countries, Proton cannot be compelled by foreign or Swiss authorities to engage in bulk surveillance.

Additional Information, from Proton’s Website: Switzerland has strong legal protections for individual rights, and in fact the Swiss Federal Constitution(new window) explicitly establishes a constitutional right to privacy. (In the US, this right is merely implied.) Specifically, Article 13 safeguards privacy in personal or family life and within one’s home, and the Swiss Civil Code(new window) translates this right into statutory law in Article 28.

In the US and EU, authorities can issue gag orders to prevent an individual from knowing they are being investigated or under surveillance. While this type of order also exists in Switzerland, the prosecutors have an obligation to notify the target of surveillance, and the target has an opportunity to appeal in court. In Switzerland, there are no such things as national security letters(new window), and all surveillance requests must go through the courts. Warrantless surveillance, like that practiced in the US where the FBI conducts 3.4 million searches per year(new window) with little oversight, is illegal and not permitted in Switzerland.

Switzerland also benefits from a unique legal provision with Article 271 of the Swiss Criminal Code(new window), which forbids any Swiss company from assisting foreign law enforcement, under threat of criminal penalty. While Switzerland is party to certain international legal assistance agreements, all requests under such agreements must hold up under Swiss law, which has much stricter privacy provisions. All foreign requests are assessed by the Swiss government, which generally does not assist requests from countries with poor rule of law or lack an independent judiciary.

Swiss law has several more unique points. First, it preserves end-to-end encryption, and unlike in the US, UK, or EU, there is no legislation that has been introduced or considered to limit the right to encryption. Second, Swiss law protects no-logs VPN(new window) meaning that Proton VPN does not have logging obligations. While numerous VPNs claim no-logs, these claims generally do not stand up legally because in most jurisdictions, governments can request that the VPN in question starts logging. So the VPN is only no-logs until the government asks. However, in Switzerland, the law does not allow the government to compel Proton VPN to start logging.

We’ve also fought to ensure that Switzerland remains a legal jurisdiction that respects and protects privacy.

Nearly every country in the world has laws governing lawful interception of electronic communications for law enforcement purposes. In Switzerland, these regulations are set out in the Swiss Federal Act on the Surveillance of Post and Telecommunications (SPTA), which was last revised on March 18, 2018. In May 2020, we challenged a decision of the Swiss government over what we believed was an improper attempt to use telecommunications laws to undermine privacy.

In October 2021, The Swiss Federal Administrative Court ultimately agreed with us and ruled that email companies cannot be considered telecommunication providers. This means Proton isn’t required to follow any of the SPTA’s mandatory data retention rules, nor are we bound by a full obligation to identify Proton Mail users. Moreover, as a Swiss company, Proton Mail cannot be compelled to engage in bulk surveillance on behalf of US or Swiss intelligence agencies. (Links can be found at: proton.me/blog/switzerland)

[spectralsleuth]

In your LSoW series would Leo ever want to get a summer job as a Life Guard? Outside of him being a turtle that can already swim well, he seems pretty knowledgeable in medical things. So I'm assuming he would know how to tend to cuts and bruises along with knowing CPR

Oh wow what a good idea! I might steal this lol. I can see it playing out as maybe Leo does it because he genuinely likes it, but it gets a little twisted into a publicity stunt by the press and social media. So he does it for a season and makes all the right statements about loving it, letting people take photos, etc. But. He might lose his taste for it a little and only do it for a season because of the attention. (Leo likes to weaponize attention/publicity, but when it invades genuine personal things it kind of stings.)

(Kind of a long tangent coming up here as well- sorry in advance!)

Fun fact- my Leo is in no way the (sole) medic! I never really bought into that fancanon, as fun as it is to think about. All the turtles have an equal amount of first aid knowledge in LSoW, which is to say a LOT when you are a giant sentient turtle unwilling to get the government involved. I mentioned the turtles medical bracelets a couple of times in 'Raph Joins the Team', and 'Locker'- they all have one. They mostly say things like, DO NOT give any kind of treatment without consultation with: and then a list of names of their doctors, Sal, Yoshi, and a (secret) last person. This is in case (as most medical bracelets are) they're unconscious for whatever reason, or can't speak to medical help. All of their medical records come home with them after appointments, and the way they store it is INCREDIBLY secure. I looked into how legal that would be in the state of New York, but from what I gather given their special situation I'm sure the director of whatever hospital they mainly have their appointments at would get them special consideration etc. This still means samples and stuff get out a little bit, and Bishop has collected SOME information on them medically. But as noted in 'Knight Takes Bishop' it's frustratingly little. (And less now that Donnie has a say lmao.)

Dr. Carter is in this series a lot, but Dr. Heo is doing a lot of work behind the scenes. She's the one that figures out their medication, allergies- everything from the lotion they use, to the vitamins they take, to what kind of anesthetic they used on Raph in '25 cents'. That took a TEAM of anesthesiologists on standby that Raph didn't know about, because he's EIGHT lmao. It was also a trial run, in case they ever DID have to do surgery on the turtles. Dr. Heo wanted to know for a FACT what wouldn't kill them, and Dr. Carter performed the procedure to monitor. Also to lend his expertise, because the dentists were understandably terrified of losing a finger lmao.

(Hm. I wonder what kind of events coming up might call for surgery on a turtle...)

[summitclan-chronicles]

I'm curious about the one character rule, is there any specific reason for that?

Oooh, you just opened a 12-ft bag of Excited Nattering.

• Your knowledge is your character's knowledge. I'm gonna be transparent here, I have a massive pet peeve against metagaming (giving a character knowledge they don't have). With multiple characters it's insanely easy to accidentally give one character the knowledge of another, by accident or on purpose to give them the upper hand. If you and your character have the same amount of information, you can't transfer unknowable knowledge.

• Population Control. one thing I noticed about the roleplays of my youth was how big the Clans got, how fast they grew and how often the allegiances were mostly inactive characters. When you combine in-character births with "poof" characters and outsiders joining without rhyme or reason, it causes a Clan to explosively grow in size. There was very little opportunity to gather the entire Clan together, either due to inactivity or sheer volume, and much of the time I felt as if characters in all roles got lost in the shuffle. With fewer cats, the spotlight broadens and everyone can have their time.

• It makes being a parent or mentor special. With everyone having one cat, I can make roles to prevent certain players from seeing the lore. This makes them dependant on more experienced members to teach them, and everything they learn will be a true and genuine revelation associated with that more experienced member that brought it to them.

• It makes it easier to keep secrets. Some plots may be kept quiet for a certain period of time to preserve the shock factor! If everyone had multiple characters we'd have fewer replies written out of genuine emotion ;)

• It requires less time & brainpower. Remembering all the social ties and historical bullet points of multiple characters can prove overwhelming for some, and it can lead to crossed wires too! With only one character you only have to remember things as they associate to your memory - because this reflects your character's memory. Additionally, when you pop into Summitclan for replies, there's no steep expectation or pressure to be in multiple threads with multiple characters at once. You can rest easy knowing you'll only ever have to reply to one interaction at a time, so you'll never have "threads stacking up uncontrollably in the background while i cry on my desk." (<- me.)

• It means I can put your character in your nickname. That way everyone can figure out who is played by who simply by swiping left on Discord and viewing the member list. Easy correspondance!

• It's neat! It makes Summitclan stand out a bit, I think!

But those are (major) secondary reasons. The big reason has its own name I gave it:

The Joy of Immersion.

This is a little difficult for me to explain so bear with me!

Essentially, I first learned about & joined a wcrp when I was 12 (i know! i know! i was a toddler!) and I had one single cat now lost to time. I was so intimidated by the community at hand and volume of the lore (... relative to 2012, anyway) that I decided to keep one cat for now and I would learn as I read others' posts. I didn't have them for long, as petty tween drama burned the place to the ground. But the experience of seeing the fanClan from the perspective of a single cat was formative.

It felt like the difference between, like, The Sims and Facade.

When you play The Sims, you have everyone's thoughts and opinions and intentions directly at your fingertips. Sure, there's some significant autonomy, but if a housemate suddenly gets up mid-convo you can check and literally observe their intent to go eat yucky Mac and Cheese cus their hunger bar is at a cool 25%. There's no guessing when it comes to the people you live with, and in conversations with neighbors you can still see how they feel about you in clear text and color-codes.

In Facade it is a god damn minefield. At nearly every turn these weird gliding people are verbally sucker punching you. To this day I learn about new strings of dialogue that blow me down. In the moment, typing out your little statements, you have no way of knowing whether your statement will unlock the next step of the game or if Trip is going to ferry you directly out of his house like an unwanted Amazon package.

In short... Facade doesn't tell you anything it just victimizes you, and that was what it felt like.

I was only in control of one tiny piece of a great big bicycle, and everyone else whirled around me with their own lives, their own events, their own perspectives - there was no way for me to read them all, and no way one single character could appreciatively tour them all. I had an opinion about some characters that were not shared by anyone else, because we had two different experiences of that character. And because I only had one cat, one set of eyes, I never found an opportunity to see the character another way: impressions had already been set down, the characters already had history, and there was no re-doing it for a different reaction. Plus, every plot point I put into the air was mostly controlled by other players: I couldn't use older or higher ranked characters to help me along, I had to depend on the interest and cooperation of others.

A consequence of that was a serious, genuine sense of pride when my cat progressed. I managed to get her from 6 moons to about 2 years old (which was probably like, 3 months irl, you know how it goes) before the place fizzled away. Because I had spent much of my time learning the lore directly from my mentor and Clanmates both on purpose and through osmosis, and because I generally had only one lens to learn it through, I felt like I had actually accomplished something when the Clan leader messaged me about her warrior name. It felt like I had actually proven myself in a tangible way, which I could go back and point to - "That was the thread where I learned X thing about Y landmark," "[Name] told me about this rp's Warrior Code in this thread."

I have been chasing that precise feeling forever in order to share it with others. It was such a unique and fascinating experience that overcame my entire body during her warrior ceremony, something I had only ever felt when accomplishing things in my real, actual life! What a wonderful feeling to cultivate in others!

My greatest sadness is that, unavoidably, the first generation of members on SCC won't be able to feel that kit-to-elder accomplishment for their first exposure to the lore. But I hope that in the future, when former members come back and see a painting their character made on a rock 6 real-world years ago was retouched in a thread yesterday, that feeling will make up for it.

[messier45-suporte]

Andromedans

Place of Origin: These are our galactic neighbors, only 2.5 million light years away in the Andromeda Galaxy.

Dimensional Perspectives:  Exist from 3D on up to 12D

Appearance: There are many types or races of Andromedans, just as there are many different beings in our Milky Way Galaxy. Three types of Andromedans have telepathically contacted me.  One is from a race of 4-5D humans that have similar features to us, but I see them as bald. Some may even have elongated cone heads.  Another, is a race of 4D 3-4 foot tall blue skinned humanoids with bald round heads and dark eyes.  The thrid is of a master race of at least 7-9 foot tall winged humanoids existing in higher dimensions. These may have their origin with the Avian races. However, I have recently received messages that these are actually hybrids of human beings and angelic beings.

Evolution:  Not yet aware of the Andromeda species evolution, but I am sure it is as varied and rich as it is in the Milky Way Galaxy.

Qualities:  Not privy yet to specifics differentiating Andromedan races.  Still learning. However, the beings Amariah has connected with thus far are of intense energy and vitality and have a strong sense of service to evolution.

Abilities:  Unknown, but that can change anytime.

Specialties: Still gathering from these beings.  Each has its own specialty.

Basic Needs: Unknown     Focus: Unknown.

Involvement with Earth: The winged beings have been involved with Earth since our first life formed and with humans at various stages of our development.  It may be that the Sumerian winged beings depicted on their reliefs are Andromedans.  They say they have been invited by the Guardian Archangels of Earth to participate in our progression and that they come to our solar system on the wings of the Archangels who are the gatekeepers to Earth. Perhaps the depictions of archangels are actually images of the winged Andromedans coming as they came into our world and were thought to be the angels themselves.

Guide for Humanity: Andon (8D ambassador of the winged race of Andromedans)

Star seeds: There are less Andromedan souls incarnated here than the beings listed from our Milky Way Galaxy, but there are still more than from other galaxies.  Somewhere in the vicinity of 800,000 humans have an Andromedan origin soul.  They usually live understated lives and only contain a small bit of their Andromedan energy.  The frequency is much different than that of our galaxy and this appears to affect the ease of incarnation and the amount of soul energy that can be maintained in the human form in 3D.

These people are often quiet warriors that are in the background and do not call too much attention to themselves.  They are often in supportive roles for Earth masters or are in the shadows playing roles that seem mundane.  Within this quiet demeanor they have a great potency and can deeply affect others with their presence.  They often fear their own power and are unsure what to do with that internal strength.  In just  being here, these souls open new galactic energetic pathways between our galaxies.

* Amariah has gathered this information  from her telepathic contacts with Andromedans. She is still learning about the species she connects with from this galaxy and will share as more is revealed.

Source: http://soulsalight.com/andromedans/

[the-real-tc]

Bad Business Ch. 10: There the Vultures Will Gather

Author's note: Again, I'm issuing a trigger warning, as there's stuff in here that might make some people squeamish. You've been warned.

To the childless wife he gives a home, and gladdens her heart with children.

- Ps. 113

Chapter 10:

There the Vultures Will Gather

***

Hudson Police Headquarters

The morning debrief with his team was beginning to bring Chief Parker a glimmer of hope they were making progress on the investigation into Val Stanton's death.

"Okay, how's the 'money' angle coming on the Stanton case?" Parker asked, as he looked around the room.

Detective Benoit answered for the rest of them. "Okay, as far as the financial benefits go, our friends at the International Claim Association confirmed two policies existed for Valerie Stanton. The first is a family policy taken out years ago when both Stanton and her husband were alive. That was through Booker & Sons Life Insurance."

"And the second one?"

"That one was through a different insurance company in Calgary," replied Benoit. "Canadian Rockies Life Insurance taken out maybe six months ago. I spoke with both companies, and no surprise: they're reluctant to put the payouts through since Stanton's death is suspicious and is being investigated as a possible homicide."

"Okay, obviously Stanton's children would have put in the claim for the one with Booker," Jim rightly guessed. "Who made the claim on the non-familial one?"

"We haven't been able to find out yet," Benoit replied. "But the premiums were being paid through an offshore numbered account."

"But someone still had to request Stanton's medical death certificate to make the claim and then file the claim," Parker said.

"Right, and we're waiting for the court orders to come through to access that information. I expect to have them by this afternoon."

"Good work, Benoit," Parker said. "Do you, by chance, have the dollar amount on that second policy?"

"Two million dollars," Benoit answered. "Not bad for a financial motive if you're looking for one."

"Nope, not a bad motive at all," Parker said. "Let me know as soon as you hear back about who requested Stanton's medical death certificate for that second claim."

"Of course, Chief," said Benoit, though both men and the rest of the team had a strong hunch who that person might be.

***

At noon, Calgary detective James Prescott called with an update for Chief Parker.

"I can't thank you enough for the heads up with that investors' group list," Prescott said. "The stuff we're digging up about Tanner Gunn, well, it's leading us down a bit of a rabbit hole."

Parker felt his pulse quicken. "What have you been digging up?"

"My undercover guys said Tanner Gunn was in the hole to the tune of around 900K over a year ago with one of the underground, high-roller poker tables in Calgary. But get this: the loan shark who staked him apparently got all his money back, with interest, no problem."

"A 'year ago' also being right around the time Lanny Barick wound up shot to death," Parker said.

"Rather convenient, wouldn't you say?" Prescott said.

"A little too convenient," Parker commented wryly.

"And you're going to love this one. The International Claim Association confirmed policies exist for every single member of that investors' group through various insurance companies," Prescott added. "Which is not unusual on the surface, but what is a little unusual is they all have more than one policy to their names. And the second policy for all of them—all taken out within the last year or so—is with the same insurance company in Calgary: Canadian Rockies Life Insurance."

***

Heartland Ranch House

"I got your text about Remi, Georgie. Are you doing okay?" Adam asked as he hopped off his bike, having just come from school.

"Not really," Georgie replied with a slow, miserable shake of her head. "Everything is just awful."

"I know. I'm sorry again about Lisa," Adam said sincerely, reaching over to give her a friendly hug. "I'll never forget her crazy aunt who brought all those wacky presents that time."

"Yeah, Aunt Evelyn," Georgie said wistfully. "Crazy. She's supposed to be getting here in a few days. Lisa's sister and nephew are supposed to fly in tomorrow."

"Do you know anything more about Remi? Your text said she had a seizure last night."

"Ty says she was poisoned. Strychnine," Georgie said, eyes downcast. "But he said she hasn't had another seizure since then, so that's a good sign. He doesn't know the source of the poison yet, but he and Cassandra are running tests on stuff like her stomach contents to figure it out."

"I guess that's good news, right?"

"I guess," Georgie said, still sullen.

"Hey, do you want to go for a ride?" Adam suggested brightly. "It might take your mind off things."

Georgie looked at him doubtfully. "You're not exactly the biggest horseback riding fan. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, but you like it," Adam said. "C'mon. Let's go."

The pair saddled up and took a path out in the direction of the Dude Ranch, maintaining a slow pace and an easy silence. Georgie was grateful for this, as she was not in the mood for idle chatter. Simply having Adam's company was enough.

Her phone buzzed a message at that point. She looked at the screen and saw it was from Wyatt.

"It's Wyatt," Georgie said to Adam, reining in Phoenix. "Do you mind?"

"No, go ahead," Adam replied. He was relieved for the opportunity to rest, as he still was not entirely comfortable being bounced around in a saddle, even on an easy ride through the woods.

Wyatt: Hey Georgie that totally SUCKS about remi and I hope she gets better

- Mom needed me to babysit Brick after school or I'd be there

- Missing u at class and hope ur back soon

Georgie: Thnx Wyatt that means a lot

- No worries about not being here

- Adam is over right now so between the two of u looking out for me its not so bad

- I hope I'm back soon too maybe tomorrow or something

Wyatt: OK great!

- See u soon

- bye

Georgie: bye

"Hey, Georgie, look!" Adam said, just as Georgie put her phone away.

She glanced up to see Adam pointing at several black birds that were wheeling in the air a short distance away.

"Those are turkey vultures," Adam explained, pulling out information from his encyclopedic memory. "They're carrion birds. Something must've died out there and they're ready to feast."

"Oh, gross," Georgie said, grimacing.

"It might be the bear that's on the loose. It could have killed something and left behind a carcass," Adam posited.

"Again, gross," Georgie said, eyeing him in the hopes he would quit.

"I'm serious," Adam said. "I think we should check it out. You're not missing any Dude Ranch horses right now, are you?"

"No..." Georgie said slowly. "But-but we are missing a Dude Ranch guest. Oh, no. You don't think..."

Despite not wanting to get close to anything that might be deceased, Georgie nudged Phoenix onwards. Adam followed, scanning the foliage ahead.

Following the direction the birds seemed to be flying would take them off the marked trail into the bushes and more wild, overgrown vegetation. The teens decided to dismount and continue on foot. After securing the horses, Georgie and Adam trudged through the bushes and came upon a small natural clearing beneath the canopy of a grouping of trees. Moments later, they sighted an almost unrecognizable but nevertheless very human heap lying prone on the grass, partially obscured by some shrubbery. Their nostrils were soon assailed by the stench of decay. Flies buzzed and were clustering all over the rotting mass of flesh. Two turkey vultures descended on the body, flapping their massive wings as they settled to begin their meal.

"I-I think you'd better call your mom," Adam said shakily, averting his glance from the stomach-turning spectacle. "And I'm calling my dad."

***

Hudson Veterinary Clinic

"Great. The rest of the lab results just came back for Remi," Ty said, clicking on the report in his email Inbox.

Interest instantly piqued, Cass looked over at her colleague. "So, what was the source of the poison?"

"Her dog food," Ty said, staring at the lab results as if to be sure his eyes were not misleading him.

"How did strychnine get into her food?" Cass asked, equally puzzled.

"I don't know," Ty said tersely as he pulled out his cell phone and hurriedly dialled home. "It's a bag she's been eating from for nearly a week. If it had come contaminated from the production line, she would have been sick a long time ago."

Cass stared at him. "Who are you calling?"

"Home," he replied, exhaling sharply. When Amy answered, Ty did not waste time with pleasantries. "Amy, I need you to grab the open bag of Remi's dog chow right now. Don't touch the contents. In fact, use gloves when you handle the bag. Put it in a heavy-duty garbage bag and seal it tightly. Get it down here to the clinic as soon as you can."

"Ty, slow down, please,"Amy begged. "What's this all about?"

Ty caught himself and scaled back his agitation. "The strychnine poisoning," he stated, his spoken pace this time more slow and deliberate. "We tested the water in her dish, and that came back negative. The only other thing in Remi's stomach was her food, so that means her food was the source of the poison."

"What? Are you sure?" Amy's own shocked reaction was not lost on Ty.

"Without a doubt," Ty answered, looking back at his computer screen.

"All right. I'll get the food. Lyndy just woke up from a nap, so she'll have to come with me."

"Okay, thanks, Amy," said Ty gratefully.

***

Lou could not have been more shocked when she received Georgie's call about a dead body near Heartland Equestrian Connections. She had just finished speaking with Evelyn about her travel details and how she would be more comfortable in the house than at the Dude Ranch. Cabins Three and Four were already made up and waiting for Rachel and Ben to occupy when they arrived in Hudson; Cabin Two was still off-limits.

Chief Parker and his forensics team were already at the site when Lou arrived.

"Mom," Georgie called upon spotting Lou, and quickly went to her for a comforting hug.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Lou asked, holding her daughter close for several moments.

Georgie nodded. "I'm okay," she said at length. "At least I'm better now that you're here."

"Thanks for coming, Ms. Fleming," Jim said. "I really need you to be present when we talk to Georgie about all this since she's still a minor."

"Of course," Lou said, sending her daughter a look of maternal concern. Parker summoned Detective Constable Patterson to assist in the questioning. Lou stood by quietly while Adam and Georgie answered Patterson's questions as best they could.

"We touched absolutely nothing," Adam said in response to her query about their actions upon discovering the body. "I know you're not supposed to contaminate a possible crime scene."

"I know you know," Jim interjected patiently, "but we don't always follow logic when we stumble upon something like this."

"As soon as we realised what it was, we halted where we were right away," Adam continued.

"Yeah, there's no way we were getting any closer to that," Georgie said, her stomach still churning uncomfortably. "That's when we called you all to come."

"Okay, thanks," Patterson said. "Tell us what led you to finding the body in the first place. We're really off the beaten path, here."

"There were some turkey vultures," Adam explained. "I saw them flying around. They're not too common in this part of the province; that's why I noticed them. Since they're carrion birds, I figured something was probably dead out here. That's when Georgie mentioned the missing Dude Ranch guest."

"Carrion birds," Parker muttered with a shake of his head. "Of all things."

"I'm satisfied with what they've had to say, Chief," Patterson said to her boss. "Are you good?"

"Yes, I'm good," Parker said to his subordinate. "You can head back to the scene."

"Will do," she said, and moved off to rejoin the forensic team's efforts.

Jim returned his attention to Adam and Georgie. "Thanks, both of you; you did great today. You called immediately and kept your cool. I know plenty of adults who would not have reacted in as level-headed a way that you have."

"Thank you, sir," Georgie said demurely.

"Thanks, Dad."

"I'm going to talk to your mom now, Georgie," Chief Parker said. "You can wait for her if you like, but the two of you are free to go now if you want. I may have questions later for you, and you can call me if you think of something you didn't mention here."

"Okay, sure," Georgie said. "I think I'll go."

"Yeah, I'd rather go, too," Adam said in relief.

"All right," Parker said. "Be careful on the ride back."

"We will," Adam said.

With that, the teens returned to the horses and rode back to the ranch house, still not completely over the shock and disgust of discovering the corpse.

Chief Parker now focused his attention on Lou. "Georgie tells me you've been missing a Dude Ranch guest," Chief Parker said.

"That's right," Lou said. "Dov Grosvenor. He's been missing for several days. My manager said one of the guests saw him either late on Friday night or very early on Saturday morning out by the firepit. It's all in the information I gave to one of your constables. He came out here yesterday when I called; I filed a Missing Persons report with him."

"About that," Parker said, "it turns out the name 'Dov Grosvenor' is an alias of some kind. No one exists with that name that we can determine."

"He registered under a false name?" Lou's surprise was evident.

"So it would appear, Ms. Fleming," Jim said. "We're of course working on the assumption this is your vanished-into-thin-air Dude Ranch guest, whatever his name really is. Not a pretty way to go."

"No," Lou said, shuddering at the grim realisation her guest had probably met his horrible end due to an encounter with the roving bear.

As Chief Parker feared, the body was far too bloodied, marred and mauled to be positively identified by anyone. There had been no wallet, but a phone with a cracked screen along with other items had been taken by Parker's forensics team.

"Do you get many hunters out here at the Dude Ranch, Ms. Fleming?" he asked.

"Never," Lou said with an instant negative shake of her head. "Why do you ask?"

Parker looked over at his forensics team. They were still gathering evidence, bagging soil samples, and taking photographs. "I ask because we found a rifle near the body," Parker replied.

The chief was referring to the Special Edition Tikka T3x Compact Tactical rifle, mounted with a Steiner Military 3-15x50mm MSR scope and an Ase-Utra SL5i suppressor, which was discovered a short distance from the corpse. This weapon was of great interest to Parker and his team as they quickly noticed the absence of any serial numbers that could indicate license and ownership.

"No, no hunters," Lou repeated with emphasis, surprised at the news the dead man had been armed. "We've never advertised the Dude Ranch as such, either. It's not like we're a big game resort. At most, our guests do a little recreational fishing out on the pond."

"Hmm," Parker murmured. "You see, I don't like the coincidence of this rifle, the bear attack, and the recent death of Val Stanton. Next question: Do you get many trespassers at Heartland or the Dude Ranch?"

Lou gasped, an awful possibility dawning on her.

"What is it?" Parker asked.

"Um, I'll have to check my bookings, but, if this really is my missing guest, I—I think he was also checked in here during the time Val was killed," Lou said, gulping uncomfortably.

"I'll need to see those booking records, Ms. Fleming," Parker said. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer I get a warrant first."

"No, no, I'll gladly volunteer that information if it means we'll get to the bottom of who this guy is and what happened to Val," said Lou.

"Thank you," Parker said. He then beckoned to his forensics team to join him. "While you dig up those records, I'd like to look at the cabin he was staying in right away, please."

"All right," Lou said. "Cabin Two. Follow me. Oh, this is his truck, by the way."

Parker looked at the Ford F-150 that Lou was pointing to. He remembered how his rookie constable had taken the time to inspect the registration sticker when he came out to speak with Lou and found it to be a fake. Now Parker wondered about the license plate itself. He realised Becket had not mentioned anything about it—just the phony registration sticker. He would have to ask the kid what he found out about who the plate was actually registered to when he got back to headquarters.

"Ms. Fleming, when your missing guest first drove up here, did you notice if he had anything loaded in the back of his pickup? An ATV or a dirt bike, or something like that?" Parker questioned.

"No, why?" asked Lou.

"See these straps and this ramp?" Parker said, pointing to the items in the truck's bed. "He may have had something secured back here."

Lou looked for herself. "He couldn't have been bringing an ATV or a bike," she said in reply. "We don't permit those kinds of vehicles to go zooming all over the place here. Heartland Equestrian Connections is meant to be for peace and quiet. If either Jen or I had seen him pull up with something like that, we would have made him fully aware of our policy, in case he missed it on the website."

"Okay, thanks," Jim said, putting the issue on his mental back burner for the time being. "Let's see the inside of his cabin now, please."

"Let me get the master key," Lou said.

"Just unlock it, but don't touch the handle," Parker said in warning.

"Okay," Lou said. She climbed the steps and unlocked the door without touching the handle, as requested.

"Wait outside, please, Ms. Fleming, while my team goes over everything," said Jim.

"Of course." Lou stood back to let the forensics team first dust the handle for fingerprints and then enter the premises.

While Parker and his team pored over Cabin Two, Lou was gripped with apprehension. I can't believe this is happening. This is going to absolutely kill the Dude Ranch business. Who is going to want to stay here after people find out one of my guests was killed by a bear?

She pulled out her cell phone to access the bookings app to get the information for the chief. Sure enough, the name 'Dov Grosvenor' appeared as having reserved Cabin Two earlier in April, coinciding with the date of Val Stanton's death. Lou shivered at having that piece of information confirmed. Who was this guy, and could he really be responsible for what happened to Val?

Inside Cabin Two, Parker was initially disappointed. A pair of khaki-coloured pants and black cotton T-shirt lay folded crisply on the bed, the latter of which was also made up neatly.

"Chief, we've got something under the bed," one of the forensics team members named Corey Fraser stated. "It looks like a couple weapons cases of some kind."

The forensics photographer, Jason Pruitt, immediately dropped to the floor to snap images of the location of the cases.

"Let's pull them out and see what we have," Parker said, once Jason was finished.

Corey reached in and dragged the larger case out first.

"Empty," Corey said after snapping it open. The interior held sturdy foam packing, the contours of which very obviously matched the tactical rifle they discovered earlier near the body. There were also indentations that matched the shape of the weapon's scope and suppressor.

"Let's have a look inside that second case," Parker said.

Corey flipped the tabs and opened the lid to reveal a pair of Glock 17 pistols.

"Let's get pictures and bag and tag," Parker commanded. His team immediately complied with the instruction.

***

Hudson County Morgue

"Jim, we won't get anything from his fingerprints, unfortunately," the coroner Harlan Blackburn said as the two men stood in front of the stainless steel slab upon which the dead man's reeking remains were laid out, covered by a sheet.

"Why is that, Harlan?" Chief Parker asked, doing his best not to breathe through his nose.

"Not enough left of the fingers. Our guy must have put up his hands and arms defensively to protect his head and neck when the bear attacked. Chewed up his fingers and hands pretty bad. See?"

Harlan raised the sheet to show what was left of one of the dead man's hands.

Jim had seen his fair share of dead bodies in his career, but this was the first bear mauling he had come across, and he felt his stomach flip at the sight of the mangled, rotting digits.

"He didn't leave any prints in the cabin or in the truck, either," Jim said, swallowing hard against the tide of bile rising in his throat.

"I'll get you some dental X-rays and see if we get lucky," Harlan said casually.

"Great," Jim said. "Have you been able to determine a time of death yet?"

"From the observed rate of decay and the stage of the life-cycle of the flies present, I'd say he's been dead close to three or four days, give or take."

"So that would mean he's been dead since Saturday or Sunday," Jim stated.

"Yeah. Plus, turkey vultures tend to be picky about what they'll consume," Harlan continued. "They usually turn up their beaks if something's been dead past the four-day mark. Mind you, overnight temperatures have been close to freezing these past couple nights, which would of course also slow the decomposition... But I'd still say three or four days."

Jim said, "That pretty much squares with what one of our witnesses says about the last time this guy was seen alive. Thanks, Harlan. Let me know when your report is done."

Harlan gave him a thumbs-up. "You're welcome, Chief. The report will be ready lickety-split barring any surprises."

With that, Parker beat a hasty exit out the door. A few breaths of non-decay-scented air later, and he was on his way back to police headquarters to question his procedurally lax rookie constable.

"Becket," he said, upon finding the hapless young man. "About that Missing Persons report you tried to file for the name 'Dov Grosvenor' ... you did actually run the guy's license plate through the database, right?"

A beat of silence passed. "No, sir," Becket said as he visibly paled. "Once I realised the registration sticker was fake and didn't find his name anywhere, I just assumed the plate was fake, too—"

"Rookie," Parker growled. "Never 'assume' anything. Run that plate now and find out who it's supposed to be registered to!"

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir," Becket said meekly.

"Chief, that name 'Dov Grosvenor'..." Benoit said thoughtfully, having heard the exchange.

"What about it?"

"I knew a guy in high school back in Montreal named 'Dov'," Benoit recounted. "I remember it because it was so unusual. He told me he had Jewish ancestry and that the name means 'bear' in Hebrew."

Detective Constable Patterson picked up on this. "How about we see what the name 'Grosvenor' means, too?" she asked while tapping an inquiry into the Google search engine. Two seconds later, she had the result. "You're not going to believe this, but 'Grosvenor' means 'chief or royal hunter'."

"A guy registers under a fake name that essentially means 'royal bear hunter' only to end up getting mauled to death by a bear? If that don't beat all," Kavanaugh said with a dry laugh.

"Now that's what I'd call poetic justice," Parker said.

"Chief," said Becket, coming back with the results of his own search. "The license plate on the truck comes back as being registered to a beige 1998 Toyota Corolla belonging to 79-year-old Mildred McCann of Grande Prairie, Alberta."

"Stolen plate?" Benoit asked what everyone was thinking.

"Maybe," Parker said pensively. "Let's get Grande Prairie RCMP on the line, please, Constable Becket. You're going to explain to them that we have a truck here in Hudson with a license plate that should be on a Toyota in their city. Find out everything you can about the owner and how she might be connected to our dead guy."

"Yes, sir," Becket said, and retreated to his desk to do just that.

***

Half an hour later, Becket reported his findings to Chief Parker.

"Grande Prairie RCMP think they can ID our body," Becket said.

Parker was instantly alert. "Who was he?"

"They think it's Mildred McCann's son, 36-year-old Earl McCann," Becket said. "He's got several outstanding warrants for theft, assault, uttering threats, fraud, and so on. They said he was dishonourably discharged from the Armed Forces years ago for insubordination and pretty much being a violent, loose canon.

"Mildred has Alzheimer's and is in an assisted-living facility. The RCMP corporal I spoke with says Earl never visits, but somehow the bills get paid. RCMP in Cold Lake almost had him a while back when he was stopped for driving around in the truck with the plate registered to his mother's sedan. Those cops let him go because Earl reportedly claimed he had not had time to get to the registry office to make the switch. Those Cold Lake guys assumed he was telling the truth and let him go with a warning to get it done. They didn't realise their mistake until he was long gone."

"See how assuming something can lead to bigger problems?" Parker said, knowing the lesson would not be lost on his rookie.

"Yes, sir," Becket said solemnly.

Parker sighed. "Eh, for what it's worth, Earl McCann does not sound like the kind of guy who would have let himself be taken in because of a petty registration violation. He most likely would have shot and killed those cops in cold blood if they had pulled up his warrants at the time."

Becket's eyes went wide. "I hadn't thought of that, sir."

"All right. I'll let Harlan know to send the dental X-rays to the Grande Prairie detachment," Parker said. "I'm sure they'll be able to confirm it's Earl McCann."

"Yes, sir," Becket said.

Turning to the rest of his team, Parker said: "Now we get to figure out why Dov Grosvenor, aka, Earl McCann, was staying in Hudson and how he managed to get himself killed by a bear. We've got lots of evidence to process, so let's get moving."

***

Heartland Ranch — Barn Loft

Ty was dreaming in the early morning hours. An open country road stretched before him as he rode his treasured Norton motorcycle. Someone's arms held onto him tightly from behind. Without turning to look, he instinctively knew it was Amy. Such a feeling of freedom coursed through him, he did not even wonder for a moment where they were headed, or that none of this made any sense since he was no longer in possession of the Norton.

As is sometimes the case in such dreams, Ty's point of view shifted. He was now observing the ride rather than experiencing it. He noticed with a touch of confusion it was not Amy who was snuggled up close to him, but rather Ashley Stanton. Repulsed, Ty brought the motorcycle to a halt and planted his feet on the ground.

"Get off the bike, Ashley. I'm supposed to be giving Amy a ride."

"What?" Ashley whined. "But this is my brother's bike. You promised me you'd take me out for a spin."

"No, this is my bike," Ty argued indignantly. "Get off!"

"You can't leave me stranded on the side of the road," Ashley complained. "Take me back to Briar Ridge."

Ty thought to himself this was a reasonable request since he really could not just abandon Ashley in the middle of nowhere.

"Fine," Ty heard himself saying. "But if Amy shows up, you're getting off, and I'm taking her."

"Fine," Ashley said.

Ty started up his bike again and turned around, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of Amy.

The dream then seemed to morph into other images and sights that no longer had any connection to the original theme. When Ty awoke, the dream was already fading. By the time he had brushed his teeth and washed his face, he had already forgotten most of it. However, a small voice nagged in the back of his brain he should have paid attention to something important in that dream, but that detail remained elusive.

***

May 8

Hudson Times—Online Version

Man Mauled to Death

Nadir Jutley

Hudson Police along with Alberta Fish and Wildlife are issuing an urgent alert to all residents of Hudson county after a grisly discovery. The body of an unidentified man, badly mauled, was found in a wilderness area near the Heartland Equestrian Connections resort yesterday afternoon.

The owner and operator of Heartland Equestrian Connections, Samantha Fleming, declined to comment on the situation due to the ongoing investigation by Hudson police, but did say the resort will be closed to the public for the next two weeks.

If you see the bear, contact Alberta Fish and Wildlife immediately at 555-625-1540. Do not approach the animal under any circumstances.

More details to come as information is released by authorities.

Email: nadir_jutley

***

Hudson Police Headquarters

"I've got the ballistics report on the rifle we found yesterday at the Dude Ranch, Chief," said Kavanaugh as his boss walked into the room for the morning briefing. The team had been burning the midnight oil working on the evidence collected from the Dude Ranch, and results were beginning to filter through.

"Let me guess: Earl McCann's rifle is the same weapon that killed Valerie Stanton," Parker said.

"You got it in one, Chief," Kavanaugh said, "it's just as you suspected."

"What about the pistols we found in the cabin?" Parker asked. "Anything special about them?"

"Well, we already knew those Glocks—untraceable of course—were the wrong caliber for the Stillman shooting," Kavanaugh said. "But we did get a hit on an unsolved murder on one of the Glocks. I've just shared that information with Detective Prescott in Calgary."

"Oh?" Parker said, interest aroused.

"You're probably not going to believe this, but the ballistics on one of them came back as a match on the Barick murders."

"You're saying McCann was responsible for Stanton and the Baricks?!" Parker exclaimed.

"So it would seem," Kavanaugh said. "Why else would he have been in possession of those weapons?"

"But he didn't shoot Lisa Stillman," Parker spoke, more of a statement than a question.

"Doubtful," Patterson chimed in. "The kind of professional, high-end firearms McCann had, no way he would have been using a pea-shooter like what was probably used on Stillman on the road that day."

"Which means we still have more than one shooter on our hands," Parker said gravely.

Patterson nodded back in silent acknowledgment of this fact.

"Hmph," Parker sighed. "Benoit, tell me you have good news about that phone we found on McCann's body."

"I was just coming to tell you, Boss," Benoit said hastily. "We worked all night. Finally cracked the encryption a couple minutes ago. Look at what we pulled off his message history."

"Show us."

Benoit flashed an image file up on the screen. "That's a picture of Lisa Stillman," he said. "It was received the day of the attempt on her life in the hospital. And then there's also a picture of Val Stanton, received shortly before she was shot."

"A killer for hire, right here in Hudson," Parker said with a shake of his head as he stared at the images. "Okay, so we can tie McCann to Stanton's killing with the photo he was sent, and with the ballistics match on the rifle. He was obviously the one to go after Stillman in the hospital. But if he didn't shoot her, who did?"

"That is a mystery," Benoit said with a shrug. "But that's not all. Two more pictures were sent this past Saturday. Are we seeing a pattern, yet?"

All eyes focused on the two additional pictures Benoit pulled from the phone.

"Our very own Hudson veterinarians," Parker said in recognition of Drs. Scott Cardinal and Ty Borden.

"Who both happened to be on the scene when Lisa Stillman was shot," Patterson said.

"Looks like Stillman's shooter is trying to eliminate any possibility of being identified," Kavanaugh added.

"Tell me you have a bead on who was sending McCann those pictures, Benoit," Parker said.

"We're still trying to figure that out, sir," Benoit answered ruefully. "Whoever sent the pictures was using a burner phone. Unless he tries to make contact again, we can't trace him."

Another thought suddenly occurred to Parker. "What's happened to the court orders to get the ID of the person who requested Val Stanton's death certificate and who filed that second insurance claim?"

"Oh!" Benoit exclaimed. "Those probably came through yesterday right when we were called out to deal with the situation at the Dude Ranch. I'll get on that right away, sir."

***

Hudson Funeral Home

Stanley Belmont could feel a trickle of perspiration starting to make its way down the side of his face. Faced with questions about his involvement with Tanner Gunn's investors' group and his recent application for the medical death certificate for Val Stanton, he nevertheless tried to keep his panic and his indignation in check.

"Of course I requested Val Stanton's death certificate," he said testily in reply to Detective Kavanaugh's question about it. "As the owner and operator of this business and as the one entrusted with handling Val's funeral arrangements, I had every legitimate right to request it."

Patterson and Kavanaugh nodded in agreement, hoping to keep the man at ease before they dropped the next question.

"Yes, we know Ms. Stanton's will stipulated that your business was to handle everything at whatever time she passed," said Kavanaugh.

"Well, then, what's the trouble?" Stanley asked, clearly exasperated.

"The trouble is we can't seem to find a reason why you also applied to receive a copy of Lisa Stillman's medical death certificate," Patterson said, looking him squarely in the face.

Stanley swallowed.

"Lisa's family says she stipulated she wanted a funeral home in Calgary to handle her arrangements," Patterson said. "So I ask you now: why did you request a copy of Lisa Stillman's death certificate when you didn't need it?"

Both Kavanaugh and Patterson noted the nervous shift of Belmont's eyes.

"We also have questions for you about your gambling habits, Mr. Belmont," Kavanaugh said. "You and Tanner Gunn like to frequent the poker tables, don't you?"

Belmont pursed his lips. "And what if I do?" he challenged with a question of his own.

"Nothing, really," Kavanaugh said, "except if those poker tables are illegal. How much are you in the hole for, Mr. Belmont?"

"Um, I think I'd like to contact my lawyer before I say anything more," Stanley eventually uttered after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

"Fine," Kavanaugh said. "That's entirely your right. But you're treading on dangerous ground, Mr. Belmont, and I think you know you are."

"Call your lawyer, Mr. Belmont," Patterson said. "We can all meet together down at police headquarters."

"Am I under arrest?" Belmont nearly squeaked, his voice nervously rising in pitch.

"That all depends on how you answer our questions," Kavanaugh said.

"Call," Patterson said, nodding at the phone on Stanley's desk. "Then you're coming with us for more questioning."

With a resigned sigh, Stanley picked up the phone and dialled.

***

Calgary International Airport

Lou watched carefully for Rachel and Ben Stillman at the Arrivals gate. She recognized Ben on sight, though it had been years since she last saw him. The handsome, yet arrogant lad she remembered had grown a few more inches since then, and had matured into a young man with rugged good looks. The dark blonde woman nearly hidden behind his tall frame could only be Rachel. Though they had never met, Lou could see the family resemblance instantly, as Rachel's looks were strikingly similar to Lisa's.

Not that they'd ever be mistaken for twins, Lou now thought, but it's clear they were related...

Lou waved to get their attention. As soon as they saw her, they quickened their pace to meet up.

"Hi, Lou," Ben said.

"Hello, Ben," Lou responded, giving him a brief hug.

"Thanks for coming for us," he said. "This is my mother, Rachel."

"Hi, Rachel," Lou said, choosing to give the other woman a quick hug as well. "We spoke on the phone, obviously..."

"Yes," Rachel said. "It's nice to finally meet you face to face after all the times Lisa shared family photos..."

"Your, uhm, the flight was okay? You got everything?" Lou asked awkwardly, indicating their luggage.

"Yes, thanks," Rachel said, in answer to both questions.

"All right, good. Follow me and we'll be off."

The ride back to Hudson was spent mostly in silence. No one quite knew what to say as the subject of what brought them together at this time was still too raw and too devastating to address head-on, though Lou could sense Rachel was brimming with questions she desperately wanted answered.

Rachel did speak once when she mentioned how much certain areas of Calgary they passed along the way had changed, and how much larger the urban sprawl had grown since she was last in that city.

"Hudson has changed quite a bit too," Lou commented. "Especially since all the flooding in 2013."

"Yes, I remember that," Rachel said contemplatively. "The footage we saw on the news was just awful."

"But we pulled through," Lou said, thinking of how members of their community had indeed joined forces to help each other, including the local Hutterite colony.

No one said anything more until they reached Heartland.

"Wow. Are those my old jumps?" asked Ben upon seeing them in the yellow glow of the fading afternoon sunlight when Lou pulled up.

"Yes," Lou responded.

"Who's that riding in the pen right now?"

"My daughter, Georgie," Lou replied with a touch of pride.

"Oh, yeah," Ben said. "She's the kid you adopted, right? Lisa mentioned her a few times. I'm glad someone's making use of them... and since Lisa's technically her family... was her family..."

Ben morosely stopped talking.

"Well, here we are," Lou said clumsily, putting the SUV in park and shutting off the engine.

"You know, I wasn't sure when I'd ever see this place again," Ben murmured.

"I heard so much about it from her," Rachel said as she stared out the windshield at the ranch house. "She told me she was so happy when she finally moved in here with Jack... It's just as 'homey' as she described it. Thanks for bringing us here and for offering to put us up at your Dude Ranch, Lou. I don't think I'm emotionally ready to be at Fairfield just yet. Not when she can't be there with us anymore."

Lou sent a sympathetic glance at Rachel. "Come on. Let's go inside. Amy will have supper ready by now."

They followed Lou up the porch steps. She held the screen and the kitchen door open for them to enter.

"Our stuff will be safe in the SUV, right?" a worried Rachel asked while looking over her shoulder, thinking at once of her luggage.

"You're out in the country again, Rachel," Lou responded. "This isn't the city. No one's going to break in here."

"Right," Rachel said with a wry smile. "I'd forgotten what it was like to leave your doors unlocked."

"Ben," Amy said warmly upon seeing the young man step foot in the kitchen. She approached right away and embraced him as if greeting an old friend.

"Hey, Amy," Ben answered back. "It's good to see you, even under the circumstances."

"I know," Amy said after pulling away. "I'm sorry it took something like this for us to meet again."

"This is my mom, Rachel," Ben said, gesturing to his mother. "Mom, this is Amy. She and I also used to compete against each other on the circuit."

"Hi, Rachel," Amy said, deciding to give the woman a hug as well. She, too, noticed how similar in appearance Rachel was to Lisa.

"Nice to meet you, Amy," Rachel said. "Lisa told me so much about you—about all of you—over the years. I almost feel like I know you."

"Excuse me while I go call my daughter in for dinner," Lou said, hoping to avoid any further mention of difficult topics. "The bathroom is just down there around the corner if you want to freshen up."

"I'm fine," Ben said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I could use a bathroom break," Rachel sighed, and made directly for the facilities.

"Why don't you have a seat either here in the kitchen or in the living room, Ben?" Amy suggested. "I'm just going to go check on my daughter."

"Sure," Ben said easily, deciding to lounge on the couch.

A minute later, Amy returned with a still-sleepy Lyndy, who had just woken from a nap in Katie's room.

"Ah, who's this?" Ben asked with a smile upon seeing mother and child.

"Meet Lyndy," Amy said. "She turned two in December. Say 'hi' to Ben, sweetheart."

Lyndy rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. "Hi," she whispered shyly.

"Hi, Lyndy," Ben answered back with a smile. "She's super-cute, Amy. I bet she's got Ty wrapped around her little finger."

"Oh, does she ever," Amy said with a roll of her eyes and a soft laugh.

"Where is Ty, anyway?"

"Working. He had the day shift at the vet clinic in town, but he's supposed to be on his way home now."

"Right, he's 'Dr. Borden' now," Ben said. "Lisa sent photos of the graduation ceremony."

"It sounds like she kept you up-to-date," Amy said.

"She did," Ben confirmed with a short nod. "Aunt Lisa was proud of all of you; proud to call you her family. It made me feel a little jealous sometimes, to be honest. Made me wish I was back in Hudson, even if I didn't exactly enjoy it when I was sent here during my parents' divorce."

"That was a rough time for you, Ben," Amy said in sympathy. "You know my parents split up too, so I understand. It's hard to appreciate anything when your whole life is being turned upside-down."

"No kidding," muttered Ben.

Presently, Lou returned. "Georgie should be in here soon," she said. "Thanks for taking care of dinner, Amy. I guess we can start as soon as Ty gets in."

"And he should be here any time," Amy stated.

"Is Rachel still — ?" Lou began to ask, jerking a thumb in the direction of the bathroom.

Amy nodded.

"Should I check on her?" Lou asked. "I'll check on her."

Amy was about to protest, but realised the woman had been in there a while.

Lou tapped lightly on the bathroom door. She could not be sure, but she thought she heard the sound of muffled sobs before the sudden flush of the toilet followed by the noisy gush of the faucet.

"Are you okay, Rachel?" Lou called.

"Be out in a minute," Rachel replied in a nasally, constrained voice.

"Okay, we'll be at the dinner table," Lou said before turning away.

***

The meal started out in a subdued fashion. Nobody seemed willing or ready to talk about what had been happening over the past week. They ate and drank in silence, until finally Ben broke the ice. He cleared his throat before beginning to speak.

"You know, I just wanna say to you guys I was a real brat when I was sent to stay here," he said solemnly. "And I'm sorry for all that."

"Oh, that was long ago. You don't have to apologize for anything, Ben," Lou said kindly.

"Yeah, but still. I could have been more gracious about, well, everything," he said. "What's happened... it's been a huge wake-up call for me. I thought at the time Lisa was just trying to get rid of me by dumping me here. But I get it now. I get it. Even then she saw something special in this family. She wanted me to experience that also. I didn't appreciate it enough."

Amy noticed Lou's eyes were brimming, and she could feel the moisture building beneath her own lids.

"Anyway, that's all I wanted to say," Ben said.

"Thank you, Ben," Amy said, giving him a smile of encouragement. "Lisa... was very special to us, too..."

Georgie was starting to get weepy. Ty blinked back his own tears.

"My sister," Rachel began shakily, "was never able to have children of her own. But she regarded all of you as if you were her own. I hope you know that."

Silent tears slipped from Amy's eyes as she recalled the very candid conversation she had shared with Lisa not so long ago about her miscarriages. "We know," she said with a sad smile and a nod.

"All right, enough emotional stuff," Rachel declared. "I want to hear about all of you. I mean, Lisa would call and talk about what was happening with the family, but I want to hear details."

"No, first I want to hear about you two," Amy said. "I have a feeling Lisa probably shared a lot more about us with you than she did about you with us."

"That'd be my fault," Ben admitted. "I didn't communicate with Lisa nearly as much. She'd send emails all the time, but I don't think I sent many back."

"So what's been going on with you, then?" asked Amy.

"Well, I got my MBA as you may know," Ben replied. "I've been working as a financial analyst for a startup in Montreal for the past year. Keeps me busy."

"You should talk to Lou," Amy said, looking over at her sister. "She got her MBA. Put it to good use, too."

"Oh, I've done all right," Lou said, flipping a hand dismissively. "Nothing crazy."

"That's not what Aunt Lisa told me," Ben said seriously. "She told me all about how great the Dude Ranch was. Said you were one of the smartest and most competent women she knew. I think that was after she sold her share back to you. You handle people's financial portfolios, and you also published a book, right?"

"Yeah," Lou said slowly. She was struck by the fact Lisa had taken the time to share such things with her nephew, and that he remembered them.

"And Lisa said that Maggie's Diner is a franchise now," Ben continued.

"It is," Lou said.

"I bet Mrs. Duval never dreamed her little diner would be a franchise in Times Square," Ben said. "You're living the dream, Lou."

"'The dream' is also very busy," Lou said. She looked over briefly at Georgie. "It takes me away from my family much more than I wish it did. I was actually in New York dealing with the franchise when I got the call about Lisa..." her voice trailed off. Unable to continue, she instead took a drink of water.

"Uh, speaking of Maggie's," Ben said to move past the uncomfortable moment, "How's Soraya?"

Amy answered: "She's doing great. Loves London."

"Ontario?" Ben asked.

"England," Amy corrected. "It's where her husband, Dillon, is from."

"Wow. I didn't even know she got married," Ben expressed his surprise. "Time flies."

"Maggie moved out there, too. It's why Lou bought the diner in the first place."

"Crazy decision," Lou said with a shake of her head.

"Hey, Lou, maybe I'll open a Maggie's Diner location in Montreal," Ben quipped. "How much to become a franchisee?"

"Don't encourage her," Amy chuckled with a grin and a roll of her eyes.

***

Hudson Police Headquarters

Stanley Belmont, owner and operator of the Hudson Funeral Home business, tried to decide what his best course of action should be. Sitting beside him in the cubby-hole of a room reserved for questioning suspects was his lawyer, Patrick Randall. For the time being, Stanley had not said a word, choosing to take his Charter-guaranteed right to remain silent.

Detective Constable Patterson looked steadily at Stanley. "We know you had a legitimate reason for getting Valerie Stanton's medical death certificate. But why did you request a copy of Lisa Stillman's death certificate, Mr. Belmont?"

"You don't have to answer her question," Randall advised his client.

"What did you do with the copy of Lisa Stillman's medical death certificate?" asked Patterson.

"He's not answering that one, either," said Randall.

"Fine," Patterson said, splaying her hands on the surface of the table between them. "Look, we know you're not in this alone, Stanley. We know someone either asked you or coerced you into putting in that request for Stillman's certificate. You're the one with the credentials as a funeral home director to legally request such a document. Anyone else would need to be either a family member or they'd do it through a court order, and that sort of thing. The only reason someone would want that document at this point would be to file a claim on a life insurance policy. Money is a very good motive for murder."

"Murder?!" Stanley yelped, forgetting his resolve to remain silent. "I didn't kill Lisa Stillman."

"But maybe you hired the man who did," Detective Kavanaugh broke in.

Stanley shook his head. "I did no such thing!"

"We know about your gambling debts, Stanley," Patterson said. "You and Tanner Gunn are pretty well known out there for your love of the illegal poker tables. He roped you in to that underground scene, didn't he?"

"Don't answer that," Randall warned.

Patterson narrowed her eyes.

"Detectives, this is a fishing expedition," Randall said impatiently. "Either you charge my client with something, or you let him go."

"We're getting to that. We know you're in the hole for a cool 1.2 million to a certain loan shark in Calgary," Patterson said to Stanley.

"Who's this loan shark?" Randall asked sharply, eyebrows instantly pinching together.

"Oh, someone your pal Tanner Gunn introduced you to, isn't that right, Mr. Belmont?" Kavanaugh asked. "Does the name 'Mick Osbourne' sound familiar, Mr. Belmont?"

Stanley's face went pale.

"You don't have to answer any of that, Stan," Randall repeated his predictable line yet again.

"Mick Osbourne told our Calgary counterparts you've borrowed heavily from him on a number of occasions," Patterson said. "You've been racking up the debt. Mick's enforcers are vicious. Were you being threatened?"

Stanley's eyes swept over to his counsel.

"Did Tanner Gunn ask you to request Lisa Stillman's medical death certificate?" Patterson asked. "Did he promise to get Mick's guys to back off if you did?"

"Um... I'd like a private conference with my lawyer now, please," Stanley murmured weakly after a period of dead silence.

"Granted," Patterson said. She and Kavanaugh got up from their seats and left their suspect alone with his counsel.

***

Chief Parker was waiting for Patterson and Kavanaugh when they reappeared in the bullpen.

"How's the interview with Stanley Belmont going?" he asked.

"I think we've got him," Patterson answered. "He's asked for some private time with his counsel."

"He hasn't admitted anything yet," Kavanaugh said, being more cautious. "But he's definitely spooked."

"Think he's going to spill what he knows?" Chief Parker asked.

"Hopefully," Patterson said. "Because he's definitely not going to want to be the one to take the fall for a murder conspiracy charge."

"He won't if he knows what's good for him," Parker commented. "Good work, you too. We'll see if his lawyer talks some sense into him."

"Okay, since we've been away dealing with Belmont, let's get up to speed. Where are we with our dead hitman's case?" Kavanaugh now asked.

Detective Benoit looked up when he heard this question.

"As you know, Earl McCann's phone was all busted up, so we've taken the SIM card out and popped it into another phone on the off chance the sender will try to get in touch again, but so far, nothing," he said.

"Then maybe it's time we went on the offensive," Parker suggested. "Can you try reaching out to him?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, sir," Benoit answered. "The call history shows there were never any outgoing calls. It might be a giveaway if we try to make contact."

Parker considered this. "You could be right..."

"Hold on," Benoit said excitedly. "Someone is calling right now. ID is blocked. It could be the middle man."

Kavanaugh raced over to help his colleague with setting up a trace.

"All right. Accept the call, Benoit," Parker advised.

Benoit tapped the screen to answer. Before he could say a word, the mysterious caller barged ahead without greeting.

"Hey, remember those two loose ends I told you about? They've still not been taken care of!" the voice barked menacingly. "The client is pissed. I told you on Saturday those had to be taken care of ASAP. You are still in Hudson, right? I told you the client said to stick around, didn't I?"

Benoit did not know if he should chance a reply. "Uh-huh," he eventually mumbled.

"You're makin' me look bad. Do what you're being paid to do!"

The line went dead.

"Did we get him?" asked Parker.

"No," replied a disappointed Kavanaugh. "Whoever this is, he's still using a burner phone. GPS and location services have been disabled. Best we can do is triangulate off the closest cell tower."

"How close can you get us?

"The call pinged off a cell tower around 7th Avenue and 8th Street in the downtown Calgary area," answered Kavanaugh. "He could be anywhere within a three city block radius."

"Get Detective Prescott over in Calgary on the line," Parker ordered. "They'll have the resources and the manpower. We need to find this guy before he disappears."

***

Calgary Homicide Detective James Prescott listened intently to what Chief Parker was telling him. He mobilized his teams as soon as he learned of the active cell phone signal potentially belonging to the individual involved in the hiring of a professional killer.

"Do you have any likely suspects on your radar in the 'middle man' department, Prescott?"Parker asked.

"A few come to mind," Prescott responded, as he and four separate groups of plainclothes detectives converged on the area in downtown Calgary that Kavanaugh had identified.

The light rail passenger trains traversing 7th Avenue that hummed along at 15-minute intervals at this hour of the evening were sparsely filled. Prescott said a silent prayer their quarry did not decide to hop on one of those trains while they searched for him. The man could quietly disappear into any quadrant of the city if they allowed that to happen.

Prescott and two others now crossed those very tracks on foot. "Heading north on 8th Street," he spoke into his concealed comm. "Approaching the Dominion Centre Building with the pharmacy, Tim Hortons, and the Community Corrections Centre."

"Copy," the dispatcher's voice spoke in acknowledgement.

The Tim Hortons franchise caught Prescott's attention, or rather, one of the patrons did. The detective continued walking for a few more paces before silently indicating to his two colleagues he wanted to double back. They understood immediately what he was planning. There was only a pair of street-level doors being used as an entrance and an exit. One of Prescott's colleagues named Koch casually took up his position near that exit should the suspect try to bolt.

"Possible suspect sighted," Prescott whispered into his comm. "William Ulrich. He's in the Tim Hortons."

Chief Parker and his team in Hudson, also linked in to Prescott's feed, heard this announcement. All waited with bated breath to hear how this would go down.

Prescott and the second cop named Diaz swung open the entrance door and made their way inside. The aroma of brewing coffee, sugary baked goods and toasting sandwiches wafted in the tiny space that seated maybe 40 at capacity. The man they were after sat alone in a booth situated right up against one of the windows by the exit door. Prescott and Diaz ignored him for the time being and instead made for the lineup as if they were going to order something.

Known on the streets as 'Billy the Bulldog', it was not a stretch to see why ex-felon and known middle-man William Ulrich had been saddled with that nickname. Small in stature, compact in build and with a prominent underbite, Billy had spiteful black eyes and a mercurial temper.

Prescott pulled out his cell phone and sent a quick text to Benoit.

- Call the number now.

Benoit responded from his desk in the Hudson police headquarters.

- Copy. Calling now.

Prescott turned slightly to see Billy pull out his phone. "What the hell are you calling me for?" he snapped.

Benoit terminated the call without saying a word.

The 'Bulldog' scowled at his screen, put it away, and went back to sipping his double-double*. It was the confirmation Prescott was looking for. He left the queue and made a beeline for his suspect with Diaz right behind.

"Billy, Billy, Billy. Little late for a caffeine fix, wouldn't you say?"

Billy jerked his head up at the sound of Prescott's chiding voice. He saw the two plainclothes cops, instinctively recognized them for what they were, and realised he was cornered. A look of wild panic crossed his features.

"Don't make a scene," Prescott said gruffly, shoving Billy back into his seat as he tried to stand up.

"This is harassment," Billy howled. "I was just minding my own business here."

"Sure you were, Billy," Diaz said, sliding into the seat opposite the others in the booth.

"I had a meeting earlier with my parole officer over in Corrections," Billy said, jutting his generous chin in the general direction of the Corrections Centre. "You can call and ask him. Now I'm just having some coffee and a bite to eat."

"Must have been a really long meeting, Billy," Prescott said.

"Yeah, the Corrections Centre has been closed for hours, Billy," Diaz added.

"So time flies!" Billy protested. "What do you guys want, anyway?"

"Oh, you're coming with us," Diaz said.

"What for?!" Billy yapped.

"See, you're under arrest for suspicion of soliciting murder," Prescott said, pulling Billy up and handcuffing him while informing him of his rights. "Let's go."

***

Heartland – Ranch House

Lyndy was starting to nod off in her booster seat. Despite the afternoon nap, it was now long past her usual bedtime and sleep was beckoning.

"I'll take her back to the loft and put her to bed, Amy," Ty offered. "Plus, I've got some paperwork I've been neglecting that I should take care of."

"Thank you," Amy said, giving both her husband and her child a kiss. "See you when I finish up here."

"Goodnight, everyone," Ty said, giving a short wave to them all while picking up his sleepy daughter, cradling her head against his shoulder and supporting her back.

The rest of them said their goodbyes and watched Ty depart with Lyndy.

They lingered at the table for about a half hour longer, making idle chat about nothing of any significance until the travellers' exhaustion began to take over. Lou noticed, and politely suggested it was time to head over to the Dude Ranch.

Rachel yawned her assent. "I'm ready to turn into a pumpkin," she said.

"Same here," Ben said. "Thanks for the meal, Amy. See you tomorrow."

"Yes, thanks, Amy," Rachel said. "You've all been wonderful. I can see why Lisa loved you all so much... and why she loved being here."

"You're welcome," Amy said. "See you tomorrow."

***

The dog was nowhere to be seen. He heard through the grapevine about the possible case of strychnine poisoning, and he patted himself on the back for that one. Stillman's sister and nephew had spent dinner at the ranch house, but the elder Fleming sister had just taken them somewhere; maybe to that hole of a place she called "Heartland Equestrian Connections" like it was some five-star resort. He was slightly surprised they were even using the place since the news earlier that day said some dead guy was found nearby yesterday, but he figured that was none of his business.

The old man still had not come back, so that meant another possible threat was cleared from his list of concerns. Now all he had to do was make sure he could get to Borden in the barn office, then he could focus on Dr. Cardinal in the clinic. Things were approaching a critical juncture now, but there was no turning back. He could no longer let them live when the chance remained they could identify him, no matter how remote that possibility.

He readied his weapon, slipping it into his jacket breast pocket once again. His aim had not been as perfect as he had wanted when he fired at the Stillman woman, but in the end it had not mattered. She was dead, and she would never again be talking about who might have shot her.

I won't mess up this time, he vowed, picturing in his mind how he would take out Borden. He would shoot him, then trash the barn office, paying special attention to the medicine cabinet. Make it look like an attempted robbery gone bad by a desperate junkie. Nope. I definitely won't miss this target, and the same will go for Cardinal.

***

With the dishes washed and put away, Amy sat tiredly in the ranch house kitchen. She entertained the thought of brewing a cup of tea, but decided she should just head back to the loft and decompress there. She was about to do just that when the kitchen telephone extension rang.

It was getting to be a little late for anyone to be calling since it was already past nine o'clock, but Amy nevertheless checked the call display.

HUDSON POLICE

She picked up the phone right away.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Good evening, this is Chief Jim Parker. Is Lou Fleming available?"

"Sorry, Chief," Amy said, "she's stepped out for a little while."

"I see," Jim said. "I was hoping to talk to her and provide an update about the body we found by the Dude Ranch. But I'm glad I caught you at the house, too."

"Why is that?" Amy asked.

"We're convinced the dead man we found was hired to kill Valerie Stanton, and we're almost certain he was the one who attacked Lisa and assaulted Jack in the hospital. We found evidence on a cell phone belonging to him—photos of Val and Lisa. The timeline of Val's shooting and the incident at the hospital line up with when the photos were sent."

"That's crazy," Amy said, blood running cold at this revelation.

"There's more, I'm afraid. Your husband and Dr. Cardinal also seem to have been targeted," Parker said.

Amy almost could not believe her ears as she listened to what the chief was saying. His call that evening had been most unexpected, as was the information he was now sharing.

"The latest pictures he was sent before he died were of Ty and Scott, so it's highly likely he was being paid to kill them, too."

"Are you sure?" Amy asked, her heart skipping a beat as this message sank in. When will this nightmare end? "But who was he?"

"We've been in touch with another RCMP detachment about that," Parker said, not yet wanting to disclose what they discovered to a civilian. "I can't share those details about his identity at this time, but the police in Calgary have the man who sent the pictures in custody right now. Unfortunately, he's just a middle man. Even so, he's refusing to talk right now about who's behind all this."

"Chief," Amy said, trying to calm her nerves, "is my husband still in danger?"

"Until we know for certain who initiated the hits, we can't be sure," Parker admitted. "My advice would be to take whatever precautions you deem necessary. I unfortunately can't spare or justify the manpower for a protection detail at this time based simply on broad speculation. That said, I have to say I am still personally worried. If this dead guy truly was contracted to take out your husband and Dr. Cardinal, chances are whoever did the contracting might simply hire someone else to get the job done. We should not assume the threat has passed. Stay on the alert while we work on it."

At these words, Amy sent a furtive glance out the window. The security lights illuminated the expansive yard. She glanced up at the loft above the barn, suddenly thinking how very exposed it was. The distinct lack of a secure door leading to her living space with her husband and their child was troubling. If someone breached the barn door during the night, it would be very easy for that person to come creeping up the stairs unnoticed and unhindered.

"Chief, thank you for telling me," Amy said, having already made up her mind what she was going to do.

After she ended the call, Amy quickly made her way to the barn. Ty looked up from his paperwork as soon as he heard her. "What's going on?" he asked, confused by her anxious appearance.

"I just spoke with Chief Parker," Amy said hurriedly. "Ty, he was calling about the dead guy they found by the Dude Ranch... he said they think someone contracted him to kill Val and Lisa. They found Val and Lisa's pictures on his phone."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Ty said, staring at her, mouth agape.

"No," Amy replied grimly. "That's not all. Chief Parker said there were also pictures sent recently to the dead man's phone of you and Scott. I don't like how vulnerable we are in the barn loft. I think we should all stay in the house tonight and lock the doors, or at least until Chief Parker and his team get to the bottom of this. I'm packing an overnight bag for me and Lyndy; you should do the same."

"All right, you go ahead with Lyndy. Has Chief Parker contacted Scott?"

"I don't know," Amy said with a shake of her head.

"I'll call him," Ty said, rising to his feet. "Let me finish up here, and I'll join you in the house soon."

"Okay," Amy said, and kissed him quickly before heading up the stairs. After filling a bag with clothes and other necessities for herself and her child, Amy gathered a sleeping Lyndy in her arms, hefted the bag onto her free shoulder, and made her way back down.

***

He watched as she walked at a brisk clip across the yard from the house to the barn. He had been about to make his move, but stopped in his tracks when he saw this. The vet was no longer alone now, much to his frustration. He would have to wait to see what happened next. Had he missed his opportunity? He decided to wait a little longer. His patience was rewarded when about ten minutes later, she reappeared, this time with the kid in her arms and a bag on her shoulder. He watched as she nearly ran back into the house. A vile smile spread across his face. The vet was finally by himself in the barn! It was now, or never. Still, he waited for a few minutes to be sure she was not coming back. He wanted no witnesses. But ultimately, if she did come back, and if she interrupted what he was about to do, he had no qualms about ending her on the spot, too.

***

Scott, having just got off the phone with Chief Parker, was nevertheless grateful for Ty's call.

"It's crazy," Scott said to Ty. "But I think I'll be okay at the clinic tonight. The police station is a couple blocks away, anyway, right? Nobody could be that stupid to try something with the cops so close."

"Right," Ty said, hoping Scott actually was right about that. "Be careful, man."

"I will," Scott said. "You, too."

***

Amy knocked on her niece's bedroom door.

"Come in," Georgie answered.

"Georgie, we're staying in the house tonight," Amy announced upon opening the door.

"Uh, okay," Georgie said in surprise. She stared at Amy whose body language spoke of pent-up tension. "What's going on?"

"I just spoke with Adam's dad," Amy explained. "That dead guy you two found? It turns out he might have been hired to kill Val and Lisa. The police found their pictures on his phone."

"What?!" Georgie exclaimed.

"But that's not all," Amy said. "They also found pictures of Ty and Scott, so I'm thinking we'll all be a lot safer together here in the house until the police figure out what's going on."

"You know, you guys really do need to get a door with a lock for your loft," Georgie said.

"Yeah, yeah," Amy muttered. "I've put Lyndy down in Katie's room for now and Ty and I will be in my old room."

"Okay. I really wish Jack and Tim were here," Georgie said wistfully.

"Me, too," Amy said. "But for now I'm just going to sit in Katie's room and be with Lyndy until Ty arrives." She was grateful her younger niece was still staying with Peter in Vancouver.

"And Lou had better get back here soon from settling Rachel and Ben in at the Dude Ranch," Georgie added.

"Maybe you should call her," Amy suggested.

"Yeah. Okay, I will," Georgie said, pulling out her cell phone to do just that.

***

He watched for any sign she would be back. When five minutes passed, he decided the coast was clear. It was time to finish this. It was time to clean up the mess for which he had only himself to blame. And after handling this job, the last item on the list was Scott Cardinal, but making that one also look like a burglary gone wrong would not be too much of a problem either, he figured. He crept out of the shadows towards the barn, hand inside his jacket breast pocket, ready to pull out the pistol.

***

"Mom, you need to get back here," Georgie said.

Lou could not mistake the urgency in her daughter's voice.

"Why, what's going on?" asked Lou, who had just finally bid goodnight to Ben and Rachel in their respective cabins.

"Adam's dad thinks the dead guy we found is the one who killed Val and Lisa," she said.

"Val and Lisa?" cried Lou.

"But Mom, there's more," Georgie continued. "Chief Parker says Ty and Scott could also be targets. Amy just brought Lyndy to the house and Ty's coming, too. They're all going to stay in here tonight. For safety."

"Um, okay, that's a good idea," Lou said, already approaching the SUV. "I'll be there soon—"

"Hang on a second, Mom," Georgie interjected, "Amy's trying to tell me something."

"It's okay, honey," Lou said, "you go ahead. I'll just hang up now."

Lou ended the call without waiting to hear Georgie's reply.

***

He could hear the vet scuffling about up in the loft. That was fine. He would just wait until he came back down. Then, bam! He would shoot him right between the eyes. He would never know what hit him.

***

Ty noticed Amy had already packed both their toothbrushes and toothpaste as he made one last sweep of the loft to make sure he had not forgotten anything essential he might need for an overnight stay in the ranch house. He swung his duffle bag over his shoulder, unlatched the baby gate, and began to head downstairs.

***

His ears picked up the sound of footfalls. Borden is coming down, he thought, feeling his pulse start to race with excitement. He slid the gun from his breast pocket and steadied his hand, pointing the piece up at the staircase in anticipation of his target's appearance.

***

"Drop the gun and step away from my husband!" Amy's command was crisp and unwavering.

The interloper paused, arm still outstretched, weapon aimed up at the nonplussed Ty.

"Drop the gun," Amy ordered again, measuring every word, her own arms steady as she held Jack's rifle on the man threatening her husband. "I'm warning you: I know how to use this, and the police are on the way."

The balaclava-clad, would-be killer turned slightly to face Amy. He seemed to be considering his options. Perhaps he doubted Amy's skill with the rifle and figured he would be able to carry out his deadly task. Or perhaps he knew very well that she could kill him with one pull of the trigger. His shoulder eventually drooped, seemingly in submission, followed by a lowering of his pistol.

Ty let out the breath he was unaware he had been holding.

In a flash, the stranger twisted away from Amy and once again raised his weapon to Ty. An ear-splitting blast ripped through the barn office. A cry of agony escaped the lips of the masked stranger. He stumbled to the floor, clutching at his shoulder. A few horses neighed in surprise as the explosive ka-boom echoed through their stalls.

Ty dropped his bag and sprang from the steps towards the downed man. He kicked aside the small pistol, whirled around, and drove his foot into the small of his back. "Stay down," he growled.

Knowing the other weapon was far out of reach and Ty's sturdy boot was keeping the villain pinned, Amy crept forward and yanked the balaclava from his head.

"Jesse!" she gasped upon recognizing him.

Jesse Stanton craned his neck and glared back up at her sideways, eyes revealing a mix of shock and torment. Shock that Amy had carried through with her spoken threat; torment due to the bullet that had torn through his shoulder.

"That was you that day, wasn't it?" Ty snarled in an accusatory tone. "Riding your Ducati when Scott nearly plowed into you. You shot Lisa!"

Jesse could not deny it. "Yeah," he muttered, not bothering to meet Ty's infuriated gaze.

"Did you also go to the hospital to finish the job? Huh?!" Ty exclaimed.

"No, that wasn't m-me. Someone else." Jesse mumbled.

"You're lying," Ty said. "You went in there, you snuffed out her life, and you escaped on your bike again."

"No, I swear that wasn't me!" protested Jesse. "I wasn't anywhere near the hospital."

Ty clamped his mouth shut. Jesse seemed to be telling the truth.

"Let me up, will you?" he begged.

Ty considered the request. Every bone in his body wanted to continue keeping him jammed squarely to the floor, but mercy prevailed. "Okay, I'm letting you up, but I'm warning you Amy won't hesitate to shoot again if you try anything. Understand?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jesse grumbled.

Ty lifted his foot carefully. Jesse scooted himself up and scrambled against the barn wall like a rat being let out of a trap. He pressed his hand to his bloodied shoulder, wincing in pain as he did so.

"If it wasn't you who attacked Lisa and Jack at the hospital, then who was it?" Ty asked.

"I don't know," he replied, not meeting Ty's gaze. "It just wasn't me, all right?"

"You might not have gone after her in the hospital, but you're still the reason she ended up there in the first place," Amy said angrily, thinking of what Chief Parker told her about the pictures on the dead man's phone. "You're the reason someone else got to her. You're the reason she's dead."

"Whatever," Jesse mumbled.

"After all these years, Jesse," Amy said. "Our families. You know us! You-your mom! She and my grandpa and Lisa—they all knew each other for years. They were friends!"

"Don't even start, Amy!" Jesse snapped contemptuously. "'Friends'? My mother—my mother hated Lisa Stillman."

He caught the expression of astonishment on their faces at this revelation. "That's right," he continued, enjoying this last taunt he could needle them with. "Oh sure, she was friendly to her face in public. But… You should have heard the things my mother said about Lisa when she got into her liquor—some friend! And I… I hated my mother."

"So, did you kill her, too?" Amy ventured to ask, her voice brittle.

"No," Jesse replied through gritted teeth. "But I sure didn't shed any actual tears when I heard she was dead."

"You're lying," Ty countered as he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "You were the only one who knew for sure when she took Herring out for that ride. You're the one who reported her missing. You're the one who told the police where they should conduct their search. You purposely directed their search away from Lookout Point, didn't you?"

"Doesn't mean I'm the one who pulled that trigger," Jesse said with a leer, though he was still visibly in quite a bit of pain. "Wish I was, though. Briar Ridge… was supposed to be mine to run as I saw fit! She was supposed to… grrr… be living full-time in Florida. Instead, she just kept coming back here, hanging on, telling me what to do, interfering in my decisions... treating me like some clueless child! Gah! I actually thought I would be free of her when she had that s-second bout with the cancer, b-but she beat that, too."

Ty had heard enough. "Stop talking," he snarled. "You're making me sick listening to all your crap!"

Amy had also heard enough. She handed Ty the rifle. "The police should be here any minute. I'm going to go back to check on Lyndy and Georgie."

"How 'bout an ambulance?!" Jesse hollered desperately.

Amy ignored him as she scurried out the barn door, hoping Georgie was not too freaked out by the loud report of the rifle.

"How 'bout you shut up!" bellowed Ty, keeping the rifle trained just to the left of Jesse's ear. "You're lucky she didn't take off your head when she shot you."

"You-you're enjoying this, aren't you, Borden?" Jesse sniveled.

"No, I am not enjoying this," Ty hissed. "None of this is enjoyable. What did Lisa Stillman ever do to you? Was shooting her some kind of thrill-seeking game for you? Jealousy over Fairfield's success?"

"Borden… Your guesses are so cold, you… heh… make Antarctica feel like a sauna," Jesse laughed feebly.

"Do you have any idea what you've done to this family? What you've done to Jack?"

"That old m-man can die and go to h-hell," Jesse grunted, his teeth chattering now. "The w-way my mother pined away for him… even-even after he m-married Lisa… it was em-embarrassing… sickening… Dunno what she s-saw… He was nothing like m-my father…"

Ty noticed Jesse's shivering. What with the pain and blood loss, he was probably starting to go into shock. "Okay, just keep quiet now, all right?" Ty said, using a gentler voice he was surprised he was able to muster. "You don't want to bleed out here before the paramedics come."

"H-how 'bout some pain k-killers in the meantime, Borden?" Jesse asked with a lop-sided smile. "Y-you got some of the good stuff here, don't you?"

Ty glowered at Jesse. "I said keep quiet. You're not getting anything from me."

"Worth a try." Jesse gave a weak laugh, then finally shut his mouth.

After checking to ensure her niece and child were fine back at the house, and after hastily explaining why there had been a weapon discharged, Amy returned to the barn. "I have the 911 dispatcher on the line," she advised, holding her cell phone to her ear. "An ambulance is heading here, now."

The shrill whine of a police siren caught their attention next. Red and blue lights splashed brightly against the walls and reflected in the windows. The cruiser came to a halt in front of the barn. Car doors opened and slammed shut; footsteps crunched the dirt and gravel.

"Everybody okay in there?"

Ty recognized the voice of Chief Parker; Detective Kavanaugh was right behind the senior officer. Jesse's head sank to his chest in utter defeat at their appearance.

"Chief! Jesse just tried to shoot Ty," Amy said, pointing at the weapon. "That's the gun right there."

Chief Parker looked on the barn floor and saw what he recognized as a Raven MP-25. He bent to retrieve it, gingerly picking it up with a gloved hand by the trigger guard.

"And um, I just shot Jesse," Amy admitted, noticing for the first time her hands were shaking.

"He, uh, he also just confessed to shooting Lisa out on the road that day, Chief," Ty said quietly as he handed over Jack's rifle to Parker's other gloved hand.

"You mean he confessed to killing her," Amy uttered furiously, feeling an overwhelming sense of grief and anger cascading over her. "He's the reason she ended up in the hospital in the first place. He's the reason that guy was able to get into her room and–and—"

She could not continue. All the stresses and tragedies of the past few weeks seemed to descend on her at that moment, crushing her with their weight. Tears she had not known that were still in reserve spilled out. Ty's own eyes clouded as his heart ached for all the losses the family had endured. He crossed over and gathered her up into his arms.

"And she's not dead," Parker announced.

He was met with stunned silence from them while Kavanaugh knelt to take Jesse into custody.

"What are you sayingؙ—Lisa's not dead?" Amy gasped, gazing now at the senior officer.

"H-how?" Ty asked shaking his head. "I thought she..."

"That's what we needed everyone to think," Kavanaugh said, being careful not to jostle his prisoner too harshly. "Well, almost everyone."

"I can't believe it!" Amy exclaimed in jubilation. "She's really alive?"

"Yes, really," Parker said. His face broke into a wide smile, pleased he could finally bring some good news to this long-suffering family. "She's still in pretty rough shape, mind you, but your dad and your grandfather are with her right now at the hospital under police protection."

"This is incredible!" Ty said. "But why make us think she didn't survive?"

"All in good time, Ty," Parker said calmly. "Our investigation is still on-going, but catching Mr. Stanton red-handed here tonight has certainly blown things wide open for us, and we expect to be making another arrest in Calgary very soon."

"Who?!" Jesse dared to ask.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Kavanaugh quipped dryly. "But maybe you'd like to guess?"

Jesse pursed his lips.

"Not even one guess?" Kavanaugh goaded. "Aw, you're spoiling my fun."

But Jesse refused to speak.

"Jesse Stanton, you're under arrest for attempted murder," Kavanaugh said. "It is my duty to inform you that you have the right to retain and instruct counsel of your choice in private and without delay. Before you decide to answer any questions concerning this investigation, you may call a lawyer of your choosing or get free advice from Duty Counsel. If you wish to contact Legal Aid duty counsel I can provide you with a telephone number and a telephone will be made available to you. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Jesse mumbled. "I wanna call my lawyer."

"Fine," Kavanaugh said. "We'll make sure that happens while we wait for the ambulance to get here. Let's go."

Kavanaugh started shuffling his prisoner off towards the barn's open door.

"Amy? Ty?" Lou's voiced called out.

"In here, Lou!" Amy called back. She was so wrapped up in what had just happened, she did not even hear when her sister pulled up in the SUV.

Lou jogged over to the entrance only to stop in her tracks as Kavanaugh hauled Jesse out. "I thought I heard a gunshot just now—" She stared at the arrestee and his bloodied shoulder. Now she chanced a look inside the barn and saw Jim holding the rifle in one hand and a pistol in the other.

"We're okay, Lou," Amy said to assure her sister. "But, um, Jesse just tried to kill Ty. I shot him with Grandpa's rifle."

"You!" Lou cried. She glanced back over her shoulder at Jesse, who was being made to sit inside the cruiser. "Jesse came to kill Ty? Why?"

"Because he didn't want any more witnesses around who could ID him as Lisa's shooter," Parker said.

"Jesse shot Lisa?!"

Parker nodded. "We'll have to wait on the ballistics to confirm," he said, indicating the Raven he was holding. "But he's already admitted it."

"And Lou," Amy said, brimming with joy, "Lisa's alive. She survived the attack in the hospital."

"Lisa's alive?" Lou repeated, dumbfounded.

Parker nodded, a smile still pasted on his face. "I'm sorry we had to do that to all of you, but between my department and the Calgary police who were investigating that attack, we agreed it was the best option to keep her safe until we caught all the ones responsible."

"And have you caught all the ones responsible?" Lou asked tentatively, looking once again over at the cruiser where Jesse Stanton was bring granted a privileged call with his lawyer.

"We're close," Parker admitted. "This thing is still in motion, but we're hoping to have everyone in custody by tomorrow. Arresting Mr. Stanton here tonight is already a big win for us."

"He probably also poisoned Remi," Amy said, as all the pieces were starting to fall into place in her mind. "That's why he came over to visit the other day."

"Your dog was poisoned?" Parker asked in surprise.

Amy nodded.

"Strychnine," Ty explained. "We don't keep that at Heartland. She's going to make it, but we were really concerned for a while there."

Lou put her hands to her temples. "This is too much. I think I'm getting a headache."

The whine of an ambulance and another police cruiser filled the night air.

"That would be the paramedics for Mr. Stanton and my backup officers," Chief Parker said. "It's going to be a long night while we get everything straightened out here."

***

Canadian Rockies Life Insurance — Calgary Branch

5:00 a.m.

The young woman switched on the desk lamp at the workstation. Using the overhead lights, especially at this early hour, had the chance of attracting unwanted attention, and she needed secrecy for what she was about to do.

Using the credentials she had spied long ago from an unwitting co-worker, she logged into the company mainframe and accessed the Policies database. She quickly located the one she had specifically come to find:

LISA RENÉE STILLMAN

Hurriedly, she began entering the required data to kickstart the claims process. Now that she had the medical death certificate information, things could finally proceed.

Date of Filing:

The field automatically populated with the current date of May 9, 2019.

Policy Holder:

Here, she input the name of the dummy corporation she was instructed to use in this scenario.

Date of Death:

She consulted the copy of the certificate and typed "03/05/2019".

Place of Death:

"South Calgary Health Campus".

Cause of Death:

"Cardiopulmonary cessation".

Next, she entered the certificate number and pressed ENTER to continue.

When presented with the options for the payout, she immediately selected "Lump Sum" over the other choices. She hovered the cursor over the "Process Now" button and clicked on it. As soon as she did so, the overhead lights glowed to life in the room without warning, causing her to gasp in surprise.

"Getting an early start to the day, Ms. Haywood?"

Tessa Haywood jumped at the unexpected question. She swiveled around in her chair to see Kavanaugh and Patterson standing a few cubicles behind her. Her eyes darted to the exit. Calgary detectives Prescott and Diaz guarded that escape route. Tessa guessed right away why they were all there. She spun back to the desktop monitor. There was nothing she could do now about the Stillman policy, but the rest of them... Tessa tried to access the policy database again.

"Hudson Police! Step away from the workstation, Ms. Haywood," Patterson said loudly.

Tessa ignored Patterson. She had to eliminate any evidence of the fraudulent policies for all those other members of that investors' group before these officers could uncover them.

"I said: Step away from the workstation, Tessa," Patterson commanded again. She began her approach with Kavanaugh following.

Tessa's level of panic skyrocketed.

"Stop what you're doing now!" Patterson ordered. "Tessa Haywood, you're under arrest for insurance fraud and conspiracy to commit murder—"

"They made me do it! They made me do it! Tanner and Jesse made me!" Tessa screeched desperately, perhaps hoping this admission would grant her some kind of immediate leniency.

Patterson nevertheless yanked Tessa up from the chair and secured her wrists in handcuffs, giving her a quick pat-down in the process.

"You need not say anything," Patterson intoned gruffly, knowing she had to legally issue this warning. "You have nothing to hope from any promise or favour and nothing to fear from any threat, whether or not you say anything. Anything you say may be used as evidence. You have the right to retain and instruct counsel in private without delay. Do you understand?"

Tessa merely nodded her head.

"I need you to answer either 'yes' or 'no', Ms. Haywood," Patterson said.

"Yes, I understand," Tessa said, barely above a whisper.

"Good. Let's go."

***

*double-double: How you order a coffee with two creams and two sugars at Tim Hortons

Chapter 11: Sing Me to Heaven

[fullmetalwindbreaker]

oh yeah i finally watched johnny mnemonic last night. my god is this one of the movies of all time. list of thoughts

- why he got the forest gump haircut

- i understand why people say the acting in this movie is “bad” but i think it’s mostly apt (especially in keanu reeves case) for characters living in an information-saturated state of society. like effectively most of them are on near mentally disabling amounts of stimulants at all times (just like celebrities in the 90s). ice t and henry rollins are the only ones who sound anything like normal human beings to me if i’m being honest. actually now i’m thinking about the scene where he flips out at the end and i think keanu reeves is a very good actor and he doesn’t get enough credit for shit like this

- they really did molly dirty, i guess i can’t be surprised she’s just reduced to a typical 90s action movie female lead exposition sidekick forced romantic interest, but it’s still a bummer. this was a decade after neuromancer was written, there’s so much more of her character to draw on, even if only to foreshadow, than was shown in the original short story. and instead they changed her character so much she doesn’t even have the same name

- i’m glad they included the bionic lesbian bodyguards in some capacity even though they’re not dog girls and there’s several predictably transphobic stereotypical moments

- everything overall seems much more low tech than the sprawl as originally described by my main man willy gibby, i understand how this is mostly a constraint of budget and the actual technology that could exist at the time, but it’s fascinating how it intersects with more broadly popular 90s grunge aesthetic, for example the lack of visible cybernetic augmentation on the previously mentioned lesbians. and switching the lo-tek hideout to a bridge instead of the underside of a city dome is less cool, but i can’t think of second choice that better fits the near-post-apocalyptic-wasteland shabby vibe going on. even the yakuza don’t look very rich or clean or put together

- very fascinating to look back at 30 year old ideas of what cyber society would be like, untethered from the contemporary ubiquity of banal surveillance. i feel like it would be relatively trivial now to find his brain code by looking up some semi-public record or archive of the tv broadcast they used to generate those key frames, but no one in the 90s saw that coming. i’m also thinking about how in watch dogs (video game) in fucking 2014 “corporate interests are gathering seemingly trivial data about your life, especially habits of consumption, especially media consumption” is portrayed as a thing that normal people often think is crazy or outlandish

- i’m also thinking about this quaint outdated view of information saturation contrasted with my real life avoidance of watching movies due to reliance on a different style of video entertainment that prioritizes breadth and volume, drop-in drop-out pause and switch between a dozen tabs at once style, compared to the often much more focused and intentionally continuous format of A Film, which is much harder to fully understand unless you watch it straight through in one sitting, which i rarely feel like i have time or mental dedication for

- do you have parents and stuff!?

-overall i’m not upset by the massive changes to the plot, i think for a movie it’s much better paced than a 1:1 of the original story would have been. i think they did a pretty good job expanding the original premise into a story with some actual stakes, even if cyber seizure disease and mommy ghost in the machine is a little on the nose. 8/10 movie but i might have to try watching it sober too

[giftcarnation0]

Best Family Party Games to Keep Everyone Entertained

Board games are famous in many families and holding a family night playing games is a common practice. It is always good to spend quality time with friends and family members playing, laughing, and creating good memories. If you want to have more fun at your next family game night, keep on reading for 10 family party games listed by Giftcarnation that will surely be exciting for everyone in the household.

1. Charades Relay

Relay charades is an exciting variation for family party games made to the traditional game of charades. Divide into groups which are cross-sectional with members from different age groups. Organize a relay in which team members pretend to be something or say something for their teammates to guess. Give yourself a time limit to ensure that the process continues with a high level of energy!

2. Story Time

It’s time to start brainstorming in this game of telling a story where everyone gets to have their input. One individual should begin a story with a single sentence. Then, have each player go around and add a new sentence to the previous ones said in the game. It can turn and twist in the most hilarious ways as each person tries to tell the craziest story as the previous one.

3. Teplo – Playing Cards for Family

Bring some heat into your family party games with Teplo – the new family set of playing cards by Giftcarnation. These cards are sure going to get everyone on the same page, making the game night the highlight of the week. Teplo includes 51 game cards – 25 of fun challenge cards for the families and 25 of exciting trivia cards for the families. Use Teplo to elicit smiles, laughter and warmth when gathered around a table. Let the games begin!

4. Freeze Dance

Finally, no family event should go by without a few fun dance intermissions. Put on some good music with lyrics suitable for children’s listening and enjoy dancing. As soon as the music stops, anyone still dancing has to be in whichever position they are in at that moment. Every child knows that even the silliest of statues must stay still for the longest amount of time without bursting into laughter. Lose one player each round to be eliminated if you break character and finally, the silly statue dancer champion!

5. Two Truths and a Lie

Here is an opportunity to bend the truth and expose it as well. Each of them should come up with two true but rather unbelievable pieces of information about themselves and one lie. Next, one person starts and the rest of the people at the table take turns reading the three statements in any order they want. After each person reads one fact, all the other players have to try and guess which fact is the fake one. How the people around you will surprise you – you’ll learn some shocking truths about your nearest and dearest!

6. Photo Booth

Create an endless stream of selfies with a homemade photo booth - it’s a perfect game for kids. Other kinds of props include use of hats, masks, costume parts and even signs. To print immediately, link the phone to a portable printer. Or just take pictures with your phone and share the pictures with the family on a photo sharing site. Strike a pose...and make it funny! Finally, after the photo session, gather all the people to watch funny scenes from the shoot.

7. Hot Potato Present

Among the games for birthday party at home, this one is a gift exchange game that has an added element of suspense to it. Collect a number of small items that could be given to families, children, etc. Sit in a circle and play music and let the players pass around a beanbag or a stuffed toy as fast as they could. And bingo – every time the music stops, the person with the hot potato in his/her hands gets to choose a gift.

8. Family Feud

This family party games indoors could be played in teams and using survey questions that are unique to your family and relating to this game show that has been on TV. Before the game, ask questions like “What do you think someone could always find in grandma’s purse?” Then, during the game, each side can guess which answers were most common.

9. Puzzle Mania

This race to complete can be fun for jigsaw puzzle professionals who can compete to see who among them can put together the puzzles faster. Assign the same number of puzzles to multiple teams and the medium difficulty level (100-500 pieces). The tension rises as teams work against the clock to solve the last puzzle and complete the game. Blow a whistle and give out candy when the first team rushes to their last performance!

10. Talent Show

You’ve got talent...And so does the rest of the family! Hold a free-for-all family talent show where everyone gets to perform for 3 minutes. Whether it be singing, dancing, juggling, performing magic tricks or telling jokes, this experience has no limits.

Conclusion

Next time you are planning a family gathering, do not hesitate to use some of these creatively fun family party games to keep all entertained and have unique fun. Teplo’s playing cards are unique as they are meant to put smiles on people’s faces and gather people of all ages at the table. Game on with Giftcarnation Teplo Cards!

[galinvant-totherescue]

I wait until he’s just out the door before moving after him, “Hey Fett,” I call, leaning in the doorframe and holding out two flowers. A white rose, and a yellow one. Virgil and Vader’s favorite, respectively, “next time send someone unrecognizable. You’re in every damn news clipping next to them.” I basically toss the two flowers to him, both wrapped in satin black ribbons, before shutting the door and flipping the sign to closed, giving him a smug grin as I do.

Sillies. I move to the back room just so I can leave him there in shock.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Virgil blinks at the two flowers Cody lays on his desk an hour after the encounter. "Cody- darling boy- you are the fucking. Poster child. Of my organization," he hums, clasping his hands together to keep himself from wigging out.

"She did mention that," Cody nods slowly.

Virgil gives him a dramatic gasp, "My- did she? How on Coruscant could she ever recognize you and put that together?!"

"Hey- at least I got her fingerprint. And now I can run every file that exists on her. Combined with the shit Cross gathered I'd say it's been successf-"

"IS SHE HERE?" Virgil's voice raises. "Is she in my arms? Or Vader's? Or our bed? No, Cody, she is not. This is day fucking- what- five? Four? Day whatever the hell- of her not obeying me. I want it taken care of. She's mine-"

"Ours," Vader corrects.

"Ours," Virgil growls out. "She is ours and I want her here. Now."

He dismisses Cody with an agitated wave toward the door, running a hand through his hair.

"It's alright, my love," Vader says softly, studying his husband. "We'll find her-"

"Don't." Virgil shakes his head. "Don't. You already put me through this once and-"

"And I have apologized," Vader slowly gets up and moves around the desk, inching Virgil's chair back with a gentle push before slowly kneeling in front of him, "And I have made it up to you so many times by now. Must I do it again?"

"I know she'll have to."

"I'm talking about me right now," Vader murmurs lowly, looking up at Virgil through his lashes as he undoes Virgil's pants and pushes them down enough to free his cock. "Don't you worry- in a few seconds you'll forget all about her for the time-being."

And Virgil does, but only for the time that Vader is kneeling and sucking him into oblivion. The second that pleasure is gone, his body demands more, from both Vader and you.

So, he does what any normal person would do. He gives Vader another small list of names, ordering his husband to kill all of them.

His anger is ebbed when people who piss him off suddenly go missing. Even if he's not the one doing the dirty work, that's... still a stress reliever.

Especially because Vader then comes home half-feral and looking for a rough fuck. He's always so passionately rough afterward- and god, it is fucking. Glorious.

While Virgil spends the next several days looking over the files the boys bring him and sorting out all the information about you that he can, Vader is set loose in the city, taking care of loose end after loose end at the most random places.

Bodies lay in his wake, none of them traceable back to him or Virgil- and even if they were, they're certain that any cop in this city would literally sew their lips together in exchange for a generous amount of cash.

Even still, Vader goes about his killing very carefully, making sure the deaths are brutal but clean. Not like fucking Rako Hardeen- what a nutcase. What an actual psychopath.

[radiance1]

Some Thoughts

The effect of killing the Joker

Red Hood Killing the Joker in Dc x Dp fics.

Isn’t a good thing.

Here’s why.

He could come back as a powerful ghost able to wreak even more chaos in Gotham than when he was alive. With an obsession over Batman.

So while Batman can find some way to fight against the now ghost Joker. I mean he went to hell after all. But if he isn’t fast enough? The Joker can kill the one feared by death.

Now this is a bad and a good thing.

Bad in the fact that yea, Batman is dead.

Good in the way that, yea Batman is dead, but he can come back as a ghost to fight the Joker.

Batman’s obsession being over Gotham, family and protection.

So now the two would be locked in a(basically) endless battle.

Now with no place to hold the Joker in Gotham. That means that Batman has to stay in battle with the Joker just to keep him occupied.

With that comes a bad thing.

The Justice League

With Batman occupied keeping back the Joker in Gotham. The JL would be down a core member.

Their fighting force would suffer a good bit. But that means they also lose their strategist. This would also mean their information gathering is down by a concerning amount.

So because Batman can’t be out of Gotham because of the Joker. It means that the Justice League:

Lost their leader(because you can’t tell he isn’t at this point guys)

Lost one of their core members

Lost their Strategist.

Lost one of the members most effective at information gathering and piecing together information.

Lost the one funding the entire thing

And lost their friend.

-

Zatanna’s magic

Her magic works on her belief. Meaning that if she can believe she can do something, she can do it.

So this means that if she believes she can fight and her magic can harm ghosts. Then it can.

Hell her magic was strong enough to hold back the Personification of the Void. Who consumed the whole dc universe. And in turn, with the help of swamp thing. 

Regrew reality.

So you can’t tell me her magic won’t work on ghosts. Cause I’m gonna have to call bullshit.

And the only ghost I can see, actually beating her(now hear me out before you come at me) is Fright Knight.

Now what I mean by actually beating her. I’m not talking about overpowering her here.

I mean fully fucking shattering her belief.

Fright Knight’s whole thing is pulling people into their deepest, darkest fears. So he can-in theory-pull Zatanna into her darkest fears, and make her lose belief in herself.

Effectively rendering her powerless and her magic useless.

-

Jason Todd can punch ghosts

Now hear me out here.

Jason Todd is basically half-dead right? He also has Lazarus Water in his body. So I think that this would mean he could physically fight ghosts even though he’s alive(half dead more like it)

Now Jason wouldn’t know this of course, since his fighting style is centred around range.

But if he lost his weapons. Yea he could go ape shit on that ghost,

-

Captain Marvel

Also known as Shazam

Also known as the Champion of Magic

So we all know that, while Shazam is a child, he’s a highly competent fighter.

He was blessed by Shazam with the powers of the elders.

Solomon

Hercules

Atlas

Zeus

Achilles

Mercury

Whenever he speaks Shazam’s name.

So you can’t tell me that with the power of fucking gods, that somewhere in that list of powers he can’t find something that would allow him to fight ghosts.

So I can say that he can fight both Pariah and Danny.

Can he win? I dunno, but I can say he could fight them.

-

Ectoplasm

Ghosts are made out of Ectoplasm correct? And Ectoplasm in turn is made out of energy right?(correct me if I’m wrong)

So what’s stopping people from using energy attacks to harm ghosts?

Like electricity, magic, lasers and all that.

So the Justice League could use the energy attacks that are somewhere in their kit to fight back against ghosts. Maybe not as precisely as the Feton’s weapons. But they could still fight back and suppress them at the very least.

So this means that Superman could-in theory- use the energy attacks in his kit to fight against ghosts without being powerless.

-

Overshadowing and the Justice League

I do not think that ghosts can overshadow anyone in the Justice league easily.

Since I’m pretty sure everyone in the Justice League has to have great will to save the world over and over again. And fight against beings like Darkseid.

No the two members I feel with be the greatest ones to overshadow would be:

Batman

And

Green Lantern

Batman’s mind is literally a fucking fortress, I don’t know what to tell you. So he could easily just kick the ghost that tried to overshadow him out of his body very fucking quickly.

Green Lantern's will is so fucking strong that he:

overpowered the god of fucking willpower

So there is no fucking way that anyone could overshadow either of those two without 

A) Being immediately kicked the fuck out

B)Facing a great deal of difficulty having control over their body.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

hey, i have an issue when it comes to physically writing things down. i've basically memorised all my worldbuilding, and if people call on me to explain a part that i already know, i can explain it. but the problem here comes with writing these thoughts down. every time i go to type up dossiers of my cultures, i draw up blanks, despite not lacking anything to write about. all my ideas take the form of feelings and vibes that i dont know how to capture. anything i can do to fix this? thank you

The blank page writing dilemma is extremely common and regularly trips up many authors, no matter how many ideas they have. I'm not able to write directly on a Word doc. I'm not able to put my ideas in an Excel sheet, even though I can do that for work, and I'm not able to use Scrivener, as helpful as it is. I can use the computer for everything but novel writing.

And yet, despite in my mid-30s with probable ADHD, I've been able to write a number of novels and short stories. I've got a literary agent, and maybe someday will actually sell a book, who knows? But the point is if I can do this, so can you. In order to get anything done, I turn it into an art project.

Now, I'm not an artist. I can't draw, and I don't have much patience for learning beyond the basics of other art forms. But I can take a bunch of differently colored sticky notes, assign each color meaning, and slap them to a huge project board laid out with an outlined plot structure (I personally use Save The Cat as a starting baseline). I can use some macaroni to make a fantasy map. I can create character flash cards and add vital information to each.

Gather Your Tools - It takes some trial and error to find the method that works for you. You can try flash cards, you can try sticky notes, you can try colored pencils or fancy pens (I have to use Uni Power Tank pens, nothing else works). If laying out your scenes on flash cards doesn't work because you don't like things out of order, put them on sticky notes. Give yourself enough room to expand out - on a table, on the floor, on your bed. As long as you're creating something, you are making progress.

Start Small - You have a big whole world in your head, of course it's going to be hard to write down. Pick one thing - a character, a setting - and focus on that. Make a character sheet, create a playlist, spend way too much time on Canva creating a moodboard. Whatever gets the idea out of your head and onto something concrete that you can see helps.

Your notes can be as detailed as you want - Know how a scene goes to the very last detail? You don't have to write it down in full. Alternatively, however, I find my scene notes tend to be what amounts to my first draft - I get an outline in there, some dialogue, notes on setting and mood. But it's entirely up to you and what suits your needs!

Look, just make those playlists and moodboards - It feels like it's wasting time, it's not. You're getting those ideas flowing any way you can. Use every tool that helps.

This is all good and well, but how to get from preparing to write? Well, this is where it gets challenging. A detailed book, like Book In A Month, can help, writing advice is not one size fits all, and writing books are not rigid structures to stick to, but guides.

Make a reward system - I use stickers . Seriously. In addition to my notes, I have another sheet pinned above my desk with each chapter listed, the goals for each (draft, edited, etc), and a spot for a shiny sticker (also, I used to be a teacher, and you never get over the joy of using stickers). But any system will do, as long as you keep it to something that's easy to maintain and won't break your bank.

Chuck your goals - Can't get a chapter done? Focus on a scene. Can't get the scene to work? Focus on a chapter. Write your dialogue in script form, sketch out fight scenes with notes on details to add later. Everything is fixable, as long as you have something to fix.

Can't write on a computer? Try something else - Okay, look, I can't draft anything if I don't do it by hand. Is this the greatest idea? Maybe not, but it allows my brain to slow down and get the words to where I want them to be. I don't draft fast, but I do draft well because I'm handwriting, and my first attempt often resembles the final version.

Form habits and rituals - I have to write with a certain type of pen (hello, Uni Power Tank I have to buy online because they only make them in Japan). I have to write on a certain type of paper, with specific margins, because any size deviance between pages will drive me nuts. Is this stupid and arbitrary? Yes. Does it work for me? Also yes, which is why I do it. Find that kooky writing habit that works for you, and keep to it. If it works, it works.

There's nothing wrong with you. Your lizard brain knows writing is hard and it doesn't want to do hard things if it doesn't have to, so you have to find ways to trick your brain into wanting to do the hard thing (by hiding the fact that it's hard). It won't be easy, and you'll still have a lot of moments of frustration, but creating the right writing habits that work is the first step to getting those worlds out of your head and onto the page. Good luck!

[tobesolonely]

house hunting

A/n: hello!! I’ve been having a mad case of writers block, so @goldenbluesuit​‘s list of prompts was posted just in time! Thank you and i hope you all enjoy!! thank u @harryysstyless​ and @nationalharryleague​ for looking this over also :) Love u guyssss!

summary: newly engaged y/n and harry realize they have very different tastes in homes when they begin house hunting!!!

warnings: smut

word count: ~3.3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

With all the joys that came with being engaged, there was a good deal of logistics that you hadn’t even thought of when you excitedly told Harry, “Duh, of course, I’ll marry you!” just four short months ago. Should you wed in the fall or wait until the spring? Outdoors or indoors? These were things that you and Harry went back and forth about most nights, cuddled in bed next to each other before drifting off to sleep.

Something you were most excited about, though, was finally owning a home with Harry. You practically lived together as it was, seeing that you were at his place most nights. Still, his home wasn’t yours—you were reminded every time you had to grab something forgotten from your apartment. Or when he was away for work and you couldn’t bear to be in his large, empty house by yourself.

So while you already knew each other’s grossest habits, (Harry loved asking you to pop his back pimples) you didn’t yet own a home together. Sadly, house hunting was turning out to be a less-than-joyous task when you and Harry were looking for completely different things.

“I jus’ think we’re cottage-style people… that’s all,'' your fiancé’s hand rests on your thigh while you wait in his car for the real estate agent to arrive. “This one’s nice, yeah, but is it who we are?”

You refrain from rolling your eyes at him. “You’re only saying that because they remind you of home.”

“So? They’re lovely,” he sounds a little defensive, but not mad. Your response  to Harry is interrupted as the real estate agent pulls into the driveway.

“Be nice,” you remind him as you open your door to let yourself out. “I understand the Craftsman isn’t your first choice, but she worked hard to find this place for us. At least go into it with an open mind.”

Your fiancé mutters something under his breath, but you know he’ll behave himself––he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Harry’s demeanor immediately changes once the real estate agent is within earshot, turning on his signature English charm. “Thank you for meeting my fiancée and me today. We’re both very excited to check out this lovely home.”

Since you’re privy to the reality of the situation, you can tell he’s laying it on a bit thick, but your agent is loving it. “You’ll both fall in love, I know it,” she begins her ascent up the long driveway and you and Harry follow behind hand-in-hand. “Six bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, and nearly twenty thousand square feet. You can’t beat it.”

Harry seems unphased by the enormous size of the house, but your breath hitches in your throat. Did the two of you actually need this much room? The house appeared to be even bigger than the one Harry owned now––you knew you would hate staying here when he was away for work except this time, you wouldn’t have a quaint apartment and a roommate to go back to when you were feeling lonely.

“H, ‘s kinda big…” you’re trying to speak quietly enough so the real estate agent doesn’t hear you. “I don’t know if I like it.”

“What’s tha’? We haven’t even gotten inside, love,” Harry stops walking to give you his full attention. “You don’t like it?”

“Just the driveway by itself is enormous,” you feel your cheeks growing warm. “I would be too scared to stay here by myself.”

Harry hums in agreement. “Can we have just a moment, please?” He sweetly turns to face the real estate agent who insists you take your time, walking farther up the driveway to give the two of you privacy.

“We’ve not seen the inside, doll. Gotta at least do that,” Harry’s hands run along your bare arms. “‘Member what you jus’ told me? Let’s go into it with an open mind. Don’t have to place an offer on it or anything.”

“Okay…” you’re reluctant and Harry can tell, but neither one of you want to be rude to the real estate agent. “You’re right. I guess it doesn’t hurt to just check it out.”

Harry gives you a dimpled grin. “Y’never know. Might fall in love with it, puppy,” Harry leans in so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. “Besides, think of all the rooms we’d get to have a shag in if we moved in here.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“I hate it.”

“What’s there to hate? Look at how cozy it is.”

“Don’t like the color.”

“It’s nothing to slap a fresh coat of paint on the outside.”

You open your mouth and then close it in defeat. He wasn’t wrong. You let Harry lead you around the perimeter of the house while you wait for your real estate agent to arrive to let you in—Harry’s animatedly talking about all the renovations that can be done to upgrade the house (even stating he could do some of them himself) and deep down you know this is the house you will end up living in. 

“So sorry I’m late,” the agent’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “There was an accident on the 405–made traffic a nightmare.” 

“No worries at all,” Harry says cheerily. “We’re just excited to get inside and take a look at this place. It’s gorgeous.” 

The lady doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Really? I agree that it’s a beautiful home, but I thought it would be your last choice given it’s on the smaller side.” 

“How many bedrooms?” You change the subject,  gazing at the house in front of you. You thought it was rather large, but to each their own. 

“Five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms.”

You glance over at your fiancé, who appeared to be deep in thought—he was most likely calculating if five bedrooms would be enough to host friends and family who came to visit. 

“That’s perfect,” he says after a moment, squeezing your hand in excitement. “We’d love to get inside.” 

The real estate agent mutters a quiet, “please, follow me” to which you and Harry oblige. She leads you up a gorgeous cobblestone pathway that ends at weathered brick stairs. Harry lightly placed his hands on your waist as you ascended the three steps, knowing you tended to be on the clumsy side. 

“Porch is nice, innit?” Harry says to you, lowering his gaze so he’s looking square in your eyes. “I can see us ‘avin a cup of coffee in the mornin’ while lookin’ out at the street.”

Your husband-to-be was trying to sell you on the home more than your real estate agent was––you weren’t mad at it. You simply hum in agreement, not wanting to fully give into Harry just yet.

The real estate agent unlocks the door and ushers the both of you ahead of her, wiping her feet on the mat before entering the home. It was beautiful. The floor plan was open, the living room flowing easily into the kitchen which led into the dining room. Large windows let in plenty of natural sunlight, which you know Harry appreciated. 

You listen attentively as the real estate agent gives her typical spiel, informing you about the history of the house (and how all the wood fixtures were original). Harry is long gone, tucked away in some other part of the house, most likely examining the crown molding or something of the sort.

“...because the floor plan is so open, it’s the perfect space for entertaining.”

“So true,” you respond politely, looking around the space. “I was just thinking that. I’m sure Harry would agree... wherever he ran off to.”

“He’s a fan of this one, I take it?” She’s walking again, leading you to the back of the house.

“Oh, definitely. He’s been telling me we’re “cottage people” to warm me up to the idea of moving in here.”

“Is it working?”

You let out a quiet giggle. “Surprisingly, yes.”

“Babe, come look at this bedroom. S’gonna be ours!” Harry calls out to you from deeper in the house and you furrow your brows as you try to determine what room he ducked into.

“Where are you, love?” 

“‘M in here!”

You roll your eyes at how Harry did nothing to clarify his exact location for you, but you quickly figure it out, anyway. While the house was large, it was nowhere as big as some places you’ve already looked at which you appreciated.

Once reunited with Harry, he immediately reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. The bedroom you’re now standing in has floor-to-ceiling windows, an adjoining bathroom, and even a fireplace. It was stunning.

“This room is nice,” you say quietly, leaning into his touch. Harry nods.

“S’our room. Can’t you just picture us sleepin’ in here? Relaxin’?” He leans in close to your ear. “Fuckin’?”

A shiver immediately runs through your body at your fiancé’s vulgarity, but you try your best to play off your reaction as you turn to face the real estate agent. “Let’s see the rest of the place, yeah?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

No one warned you about how much work went into actually closing on a home.

It was a long process. You were glad you had Harry, who had financial advisors, to help you close on the deal. You and Harry ended up going with the cottage home, of course, which ultimately was the best choice for what the two of you needed at the moment. 

Waiting to move in seemed like it took a lifetime, even though it was only a couple weeks. Your apartment was a mess of boxes and packing tape, and you were glad you had your roommate to help you gather the things you still had left there (since you had basically already moved in with Harry as it was).

When the day finally came to move all your boxes into your new home, you were more than ready to get it over with. You weren’t sure how Harry could remain in such high spirits engaging in such an arduous task (you were honestly feeling quite crabby), so you let Harry deal with the movers lest you accidentally lose your cool and snap at someone. He kept offering to help them move things, feeling guilty for just standing around while they heaved your extensive amount of belongings around, but they kept insisting they were fine. Your fiancé opted to contribute by going to the kitchen and making them lemonade and little sandwiches, instead.

“We have a lot of stuff, don’t we?” Harry glances up at you as you walk into the kitchen, a mischievous look on his face.

“What’s this we? Pretty sure they’re struggling to carry your things around, not mine,” you snake your arms around Harry’s waist. “Maybe we can have a garage sale? Get to know some neighbors too, hmm?”

“Weird to sell Gucci at a garage sale, innit?” Harry cuts a sandwich into four perfect triangles and sets them beside him on a platter he must’ve dug out of some box. You shrug.

“I’m sure you’re not the only person in this neighborhood who can afford Gucci.”

Harry hums in response, continuing to slather spread onto the sandwiches he was making. “Can you go offer these to the movers? Ask ‘em if they want lemonade or water, too.” He tilts his head toward the tray on the other side of the counter and you reach around him to grab it.

“Look at you makin’ everyone snacks and whatnot. So domestic,” you tease, grabbing Harry’s cheek and pinching firmly. “It’s getting me all hot.”

“Yeah?” He questions, going along with your playful pestering. “Y’like it?”

“Fuckin’ love it,” you coo, giving him bedroom eyes. Harry throws his head back, letting out a loud guffaw. You exit the kitchen and go from person to person, kindly offering them sandwiches which they are more than happy to accept.

The movers finish a couple of hours later, your beautiful home still just as beautiful, but now a myriad of boxes and trash bags. The two of you had absolutely no furniture yet, seeing as Harry wanted to buy everything new instead of bringing the furniture from his old home for reasons you were still unsure of.

Harry settled on making the two of you sandwiches for supper, seeing as that was the only food you had in the entire house, and neither one of you felt like running to the store to buy anything else. He pours two tall glasses of lemonade before carefully walking to where you sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room.

“Our new home...,” Harry trails off, looking around the cluttered space. “The first thing that’s ours.”

“I could cry,” you reply, voice slightly shaky. “Like, it’s just so surreal. We can really decorate however we want and celebrate holidays–”

“Gonna fight wif’ each other ‘n love on each other,” he adds. “Grow old with each other... so happy you’re all mine and ‘m all yours.”

Your heart swells at Harry’s words. He can always tell when you’re growing emotional––he knows you better than anyone else, after all––and he quickly moves closer to you, pulling you into his side. Neither one of you says anything, there’s nothing that needs to be said. You opt to bask in each other’s company and the comfortable silence that fills the dim living room. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Harry scoot the food and drinks out of the way before he pulls you fully into his lap.

“I can’t wait for all of it,” you wrap your arms around his neck, sucking lightly on the area where the skin of his jaw trails into his neck. “Can’t wait to have it all with you.”

“Know what ‘m lookin’ forward to the most?” You hum. “Lookin’ forward to the baby makin’.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at Harry’s admission. Sure, you’ve discussed children before––you were getting married! Still, he catches you off-guard.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm,” his hand slowly makes its way underneath your shirt, loving how he already had you squirming under him.

“I’ve got it,” you mumble quietly, moving away from him. You expertly unclasp your bra and fling it out of the way, letting it join the rest of the mess that litters the floor of your home.

“This is really the first place we’re gonna shag in, then?” Harry asks breathlessly, sucking roughly against your collarbone. 

You shrug your shoulders before moving to tangle your hands in Harry’s hair. “The entire house is a mess, this is as good a spot as any.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he mutters, trailing his hands down your body until he gets to your bottom. He easily shimmies your tight leggings down your legs, having done this many, many times before. “Gonna help me christen every room in this house, angel?”

“Yeah,” you’re quick to respond. You wish there was more kissing and less talking going on, but your arrogant fiancé loved two things: teasing you, and the sound of his own voice. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Where do ya want that kiss?”

“Get your mind outta the gutter,” you plead, tilting your head to the side so Harry can access your neck easier. “My lips.” 

You know what Harry’s going to say before he says it. “Which ones?”

“H, come on,” you whine, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. “Gimmie one.” 

Harry finally gives into your requests and presses his lips delicately against yours, humming in pleasure as he feels you sink deeper into the kiss. “I’m messin’ with ya, Y/N. I could never pass on givin’ ya a kiss.” 

“I’m glad,” you answer triumphantly, shamelessly stealing another kiss from him. 

“Gonna go all the way with me on our living room floor? Dirty girl, you are,” Harry says quietly, gently removing you from his lap. He helps you lay back on the floor, but not before bunching up your leggings for you to use as a pillow. 

“All good?” 

“Mmm,” you reach up for him, wanting to feel his lips against yours once again. He doesn’t give in so easily—not this time. Harry allows you to take his plump upper lip into your mouth before pulling away just out of your reach. You let out a pitiful whimper which causes Harry to puff out his chest, his ego getting the best of him. 

“Gonna make ya feel so good,” he says quietly, rubbing his palm against your core. Your underwear was still on and you knew he was approximately four seconds away from ripping them off.

“I know,” you answer quickly. “I know, H.”

“You sound impatient.”

“I just wanna get on with it.”

Harry sits back on his heels. “What’s tha’ rush? Jus’ us, yeah? Jus’ me?”

“I need it,” you say under your breath. You were usually quite vocal in bed with Harry, but something about the way his gaze fixed on you had butterflies fluttering all-around your stomach.

“What do you need?” Harry taps your bum while he’s saying this, signaling for you to lift yourself slightly off the ground so he can get them around your ankles. 

“I need you in me,” you whisper. You knew he knew exactly where you needed him, but you’d stroke his ego a bit if it meant he’d fuck you just how you wanted him to. “Hard. F-fast.”

“I can manage that,” he cheekily replies, giving his hard cock three tugs before pressing himself to your entrance. “Don’t want me to eat ya out or summat?”

“No,” you answer entirely too quickly. “Please just fuck me, H-”

He understands just how needy and desperate you are now and wastes no more time, swiftly entering your tight cunt like he was made just for you. Your body always molded together so perfectly––no one knew you better than he did. When you were really pressed for time, he could get you off in less than five minutes. Although his pace is relentless tonight though, there is no rush. 

You felt full in such a way that only Harry could make happen. You let out a loud moan as he moves your leg ever so slightly to angle you in such a way that he knew would hit your spongy walls deep inside of you.

“Y’like it? Like me fuckin’ into ya like this?”

“Love it,” you moan breathlessly, reaching to cradle your tits. Harry raises his eyebrows, pace faltering slightly.

“What are you bein’ so quiet for? S’no one here except us,” he reaches in between your sweaty bodies to flick your clit. “Can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me–are you gonna come, puppy? Come around my cock?”

His teasing is all it takes for you to cum around him, clenching down so tightly that it takes a surprising deal of strength for him to keep moving. Harry follows shortly behind you, letting out an animalistic groan that sounds downright filthy. In that moment, you were glad that there was no one else in the house because if there was, they definitely would’ve heard you and Harry coming down from your respective highs together. He speaks after a moment, chest still heaving.

“One room down, the rest of the house to go.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

as always, please let me know what you thought here!