#the nearby river is already sending out warnings cause the water is rising

[mrsalwayswrite]

Anchor in the Waves- Epilogue

Here it is, lovelies! The final part! 

A huge thank you to everyone who has read/commented/liked. Y’all are the best! 

No real warnings, fluff mostly and a little bit of *cough* sexy times *cough*

As always, translations are via google. 

Tag List: @happyveday @evelynshelby

Anchor in the Waves Masterlist

"WOMEN OF COCCHAM! WE ARE BACK!!"

 Aine smiled, shaking her head as she heard Finan's voice. Immediately, she followed the small parade of people making their way towards the dock to greet the Lord of Coccham and his warriors. She noticed her friend up ahead and headed over to stand next to Gisela, baby Stiorra in her arms. 

 The Lady of Coccham (even if Aine only called her in good humor) smirked, bouncing her young daughter. "There goes our peace and quiet."

 Aine laughed, watching the boat being tied to the dock and men jumping off. "I suppose it is a good thing we like them."

 "Mmm...most days." Gisela commented dryly, before moving closer to both greet her husband and wrangle her toddler. 

 The Irishwoman stayed back, observing the greetings and the breath of life that came with the men's return. They had been gone over a month this time, fighting rogue Danes on Wessex's border. However much she and Gisela teased one another about the men being gone, thanking the gods for a respite from them...Coccham did not feel like home until they returned. 

 She nodded at the warriors who passed her, making their way into the village. Some were attacked by children leaping into their arms or family members looking them over for injuries. It warmed her heart to witness the scene before her. How this small village had become a home for the many who lived here, filled with laughter, love and hope. It was a place for both Dane and Saxon...something Wessex desperately needed...with a couple Irish thrown in to make it interesting.  

 The first to approach her was Osferth, his boyish grin making her smile. "Welcome back."

 "It's good to be back." He accepted her hug, only blushing slightly at the show of affection. It had taken a few months before he would not turn red as a tomato when she hugged him. He was a younger brother to her. Even though he would deny it with all the breath in his lungs, she knew he enjoyed the special treatment she gave him, always making sure he had extra food and taking care of his sewing. 

 "Food is on the table in the Main Hall." She released him, looking over him quickly and relieved when she saw no injuries or dried blood. "Better hurry up before the others get there."

 He did not need to be told twice.   

 Sihtric found her next. Before she could stop him, he wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her around, making her squeal. "Aine!" He cried out. 

 "Put me down, you crazy Dane!" She gripped his shoulders, terrified he was going to drop her. He set her down, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. Soon as she was on her feet and stable, she punched his shoulder. “What was that for?”

 “Can I not be excited to see you?”

 Smoothing down her red dress, she rolled her eyes but the fond smile gave away her true feelings. "Go on, food is on the table."

 "You are a gift from the gods themselves!" He busted a loud kiss on her cheek, completely surprising her.  

 "Oi! Sihtric! Hands off my woman!!" Finan yelled. He stood on the dock, arms crossed, having been talking to one of the village men who managed the small boats in Coccham. 

 "She has chosen a new path and will be my woman now!" Sihtric wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "She said you smell like a pig more often than a man and cannot stand your stench any longer!"

 She swatted at Sihtric's chest, unable to suppress her laughter both due to the Dane's complete shit-eating grin and Finan's aghast look. Part of her wondered if Sihtric was drunk since he was usually so reserved in front of the others. All she could figure was there some teasing going on that she did not know the full story of. Although she had no problems playing along. In all the times Finan was pulled away to help Uhtred with whatever King Alfred needed him for, Sihtric and Aine had no problems creating their own amusement with the mischief they caused. Of course, they never got caught since no one would expect it from the two of them. 

 "Sihtric!" Uhtred called over, his arm around his own wife. "You have my approval, though that whore in Wintanceaster you are so fond of will be most upset to no longer receive your silver."

 "Go on." Aine pressed a quick kiss to Sihtric's cheek, hearing Finan's shout in the background. "Osferth is already eating, I am sure."

 As Uhtred and his little family walked towards her, she bowed her head slightly. "Welcome back, my lord."

 He stepped over to give her a hug. His hugs were always so warm and all-encompassing. Just like everything Uhtred did, he did with his whole heart, including his hugs. "Thank you, Aine. It brings me joy to know you are here to watch over my family while I am gone."

 "I consider Gisela a sister and your children as my own family."

 Blue eyes flashing as he beamed at her. "That pleases me greatly."

 She watched the little family head back towards the main hall for a lingering moment, happiness filling her at the sight of the love and family Uhtred now had. He was such a different man from when they first met. So much had changed over the years but most for the better. What had once been a broken man, now stood tall and strong. It brought her joy to witness. 

 A pair of strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her back against a broad chest. "And what of me?"

 She opened her mouth to reply then almost gagged as her nostrils were assaulted. Pushing out of his embrace, she turned to examine Finan keeping him at arm's length. "Ya smell."

 "Oh? No affection for me? Your beloved husband."

 "I will once ya don't smell like shit…" She paused, eyeing him warily. "Why do ya smell like shit and no one else?"

 He sighed, sending a glare towards the main hall. "Let's just say Sihtric's a right bastard, aye?"

 She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep a neutral face. He looked so forlorn, she wanted to wrap him in an embrace but not with the foul stench radiating off him. “Ya need to wash before eatin'."

 "But I'm hungry and tired." He whined, taking a step closer to her, hands reaching out to grab hold of her.  

 She jumped back as he tried to move closer, batting his grabbing hands away. "Too bad. Go wash or Osferth will eat it all. Lord knows where that child packs all the food away. He eats like a horse."

 "Mmm…" He placed his hands on her hips, a gleam in his eyes. "Not even a kiss for ya husband to welcome him home? To give me the strength to continue? Tis such a long walk back to the river, but with a kiss..."

 She rolled her eyes at his dramatics. With a huff, she conceded, knowing he would be relentless if she did not give him some kind of affection. Rising onto her toes, she pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "Now, go ba...ah!" Before she could settle back on her feet, he easily lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder. "Finan!" 

 "Ya husband requires help, and it’s ya duty as a lovin', loyal wife to help in whatever I need."

 “Is é sin do bharúil. Is féidir leat folctha a dhéanamh duit féin.” She pounded with her fist on his back, but he only laughed. (That is what you think. You can bath yourself.)

 "Fíor. Náire áfach. Anois, is cosúil go mbraitheann tú boladh agus go dteastaíonn folctha uait freisin." He swatted her arse cheerfully, making her yelp. (True. Shame though. Now, it seems you smell and require a bath also.)

 She tried to wriggle away, only causing him to laugh and swat her arse again. Grumbling, she eventually gave up as he walked towards the secluded spot in the river reserved for bathing. She had no intentions of getting in the water. No matter what he said or did. 

 *****

 At the riverside, he gently set her down, grabbing her upper arms as she wobbled slightly. 

 "I've no need a bath. Ya get in there. I'll stay with ya since I'm such a lovin' and loyal wife." She stepped away to plop down on grass nearby, smoothing her red dress down. Unconsciously, she ran her fingers through her long, brown hair that hung loosely down her back, staring at the river. 

 Unable to remove his gaze from her, he watched, a contentment filling his soul at the simplicity of the moment. His woman… his beautiful wife waiting for him as he bathed so they could return to their home together. Though he would much prefer for her to join him. It had been years since they first met in Islond, yet he found her only becoming more beautiful with each passing year. 

 Over that time, he had also fallen more in love with her as different facets of her appeared, now free of slavery. She had a quick wit and sarcastic streak he loved to witness. She was always going out of her way to help others, particularly the mothers and children in Coccham. In the quiet moments, there was usually some kind of knitting or sewing in her hands, saying it helped calm her mind. He knew she loved giving gifts though, seeing people's faces light up when she gave them something for no reason other than she wanted to. Behind the closed door of their home though, she was a temptress that he wholeheartedly would sell his soul to. With just a look or wink, she could drive him wild. Many a time he threatened to lock them in their cottage and not come out for three days if she continued to tease him so. 

 The time he was forced to spend away from her side, fighting for Uhtred and King Alfred, killed him but it gave him another reason to fight better and harder. She waited in their home for his return...and there was nothing he would not do to keep her safe. He would move mountains for her. Even years later, the promise he gave still held as true now as then. He wanted her safe and happy.

 "Are ya goin' get in the water or just stare at me?" She leaned back on her elbows, hair dancing around her as she watched him. 

 A lazy smirk grew on his face as he slowly and carefully began removing his armor. He dropped each piece into a small pile next to his feet, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. She just watched, a small, coy smile on her lips. Next, he took his time taking his clothes off, unable to suppress his bodily response as he noticed her eyes roaming over his body greedily. There was no shame in his nakedness before her. Even the scars he loathed from his time as a slave, the whip marks and scars on his hands from the oar, he hardly noticed when alone with her. On more than one occasion, she kissed those hateful scars away, reminding him he survived and they only showed the strength within him.   

 "Ya sure ya don't want to join me?" He teased once more, purposefully placing his hands on his hips. Where her eyes seemed to linger did not go unnoticed by him. If anything, it made him ache for her more. 

 "Mmm...if we both get in that water, it'll be next year before we leave."

 "I do not see a problem with that."

 She laughed while giving him a shooing motion. 

 Naked as the day he was born, he finally stepped into the water. The chill shot through his body but it felt pleasant, refreshing. Finally stopping at his waist, he submerged himself. Weeks’ worth of filth seeped into the water around him. He scrubbed his hands through his hair, cleaning the grime from it. For a long moment, he lingered there, allowing the absolute silence of the river around him to drown out the thoughts and noise from the past month of hard fighting. He returned home, everyone he cared for was safe. The worry and fear glided off his shoulders, dissipating into the water. He was home.

 Rising, he shook his head like a dog, the water spraying around him. When he opened his eyes, he expected to see Aine still on the grass laughing at his antics and prepared to tease him. 

 Instead she stood just out of arm's reach in the water. 

 Naked. 

 He smugly grinned, reaching his hands out towards her. "Could not resist me, huh?"

 Rolling her eyes, she stepped closer, placing a hand over his heart. His hands automatically moved to her hips, pulling her closer. He opened his mouth to further tease her but caught the words on his tongue. Her eyes seemed distant as she stared at her hand on his chest, biting her bottom lip. 

 "Cad é, mo grá?” He trailed a hand up and down her bare back, waiting for her to speak. He knew from experience it did no good to pressure her, so he continued to gaze at her, touch her and find happiness in her presence. (What is it, my love?)

 After several tense moments she finally whispered, not meeting his eyes. "An bhfuil tú sásta anseo?" (Are you happy here?)

 "Cad?" (What?)

 "An bhfuil tú sásta anseo ... i Coccham? Le mise? An bhfuil tú sásta?" (Are you happy here...in Coccham? With me? Are you happy?)

 "Cad a thug air seo?" He tipped her chin up to look into her face, looking into those bronze eyes he adored. (What brought this on?)

 "Bhí mé ag smaoineamh ar Éirinn agus tú imithe." (I was thinking about Irland while you were gone.)

 Ah. He waited for her, mixed feelings swirling within him. They had shared their pasts with one another about their lives in Irland before slavery. He had been so terrified to tell her of who he was there, what he had done. Yet instead of holding his past actions against him, she just kissed the tip of his nose and told him she would not be cleaning up his messes around their home, even if he was a prince. At that moment, he was unsure if he could ever love her more.

 "Ar mhaith leat riamh dul ar ais?" She asked, looking across the river. Something she had never asked before, after hearing his story. (Do you ever want to go back?)

 He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck for a second. This was not an easy question to answer and he appreciated her silence, letting him find his answer. Cupping her cheek, he tilted her face back up to meet her eyes. "Tá áiteanna ann a chailleann mé ansin, aye. Beidh Éirinn i mo chuid fola i gcónaí ... ach ní hé mo theach é a thuilleadh. Tá m’áit anseo. Le Uhtred ... agus Sihtric ... agus an manach leanbh. Agus tusa. Níor mhaith liom riamh a bheith gan tú. " (There are places I miss there, aye. Irland will always be in my blood...but it's no longer my home. My place is here. With Uhtred...and Sihtric...and the baby monk. And you. I never wish to be without you.)

 They pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed as they allowed the waves of memories from their past to crash over them for the briefest of minutes. The water from the river lapped against their bodies. The sunshine warmed their exposed skin. He ran a hand through her long hair, knowing she loved the sensation. They stayed that way for several minutes, just being with one another, no words needing to be spoken, born from familiarity and contentment. 

 "Ar mhaith leat filleadh ar Éirinn?" He ventured. (Do you want to return to Irland?)

 "Is tú mo bhaile. Sílim go raibh a fhios agam ar bhealach éigin nuair a chonaic mé tú i ndáiríre den chéad uair. Tháinig tú i mo dhóchas, i mo ancaire ... agus tá tú fós." (You are my home. I think I somehow knew that when I first truly saw you. You became my hope, my anchor...and you still are.)

 When she smiled at him, he pressed his lips to hers, overwhelmed by her statement. Soon what meant to be a reassuring, tender kiss became more. Hands roamed. Tongues clashed. Bodies pressed so close, water could not even find a way between them. He scooped her up, making her giggle as her legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on her arse. A fire built within him, her touch scorching him but he did not care. If anything, he wanted more. Finally, their lips broke apart, both of them breathing heavy. He wasted no time as his mouth trailed kisses along her jawline and down her throat. 

 "Finan…" She moaned, hands tangled in his hair. She tipped her head to the side so he had better access to her neck. "You are not humping me out here."

 "Why?" He asked between kisses. "This seems like a perfect spot."

 "Anyone could come by."

 "No one will come by, now shhh...let me worship you." Dropping his head to her chest, he traced her collarbones with his tongue. The whine it elicited from her made him rock hard just at the sound. 

 "No, oh Christ! Finan…"

 He chuckled, his tongue trailing downward. Shifting her slightly so she was at the perfect height, he kissed the valley between her breasts. He groaned when she tugged on his hair. A soft mantra of his name spilled from her lips, one of his favorite sounds. He tucked his head down, ready to lavish affections onto her breasts until she begged him to fill her. He squeezed her arse, making her rise slightly at the sensation, timing it so he opened his mouth and just about….

 "FINAN! AINE! Lord Uhtred needs you both at...AAAHHHH!!" 

 "DAMN IT, BABY MONK!!"

 Aine laughed loudly as she pressed a quick kiss to Finan's cheek. Then slippery as an eel, she slid out of his arms and swatted away his hands, desperate to pull her back. "We are coming, Osferth, thank you." She called out, taking a step towards the bank. 

 "No, we are not!" Finan yelled, knowing that Osferth was most likely racing back, red-faced and stuttering. "Tell Uhtred we are busy and…"

 She interrupted his outburst by splashing him as he tried to snake an arm around her waist. "Finan, your lord needs you. You cannot say no."

 "I am certain he would understand why." He grumbled, pulling her against his body. He began peppering her shoulder with kisses as his hands went to where his lips should have been right now. 

 "Níos déanaí, mo ghrá ..." She batted his hands away, slipping from him once more. (Later, my love…)

 His eyes narrowed as he stalked closer, matching her retreating steps. That same hot blood still coursed through her veins as his own if her rosy cheeks and pupils that resembled full moons said anything. Though, as they moved closer to the bank, the water's height lessened around their bodies. The view it gave him was something he certainly did not mind. She was glorious in her nakedness, completely unashamed before him. He wondered if she would allow a quick romp in the grass...to help them dry off, of course.  

 Somehow reading his mind, she stopped and pressed a single finger to his lips as they almost reached the bank. "If you behave, we can play a game."

 "A game? Like what?"

 Her finger trailed down his lips, down his chest and stomach to his manhood, giving it a quick pump that caused him to groan aloud. "Guess you will have to be good to find out." She released him with a flirtatious wink and stepped out of the water. 

 "Woman! You cannot tease me like this!"

 She blew him a kiss, wringing out her brown locks and giggling. 

 He just stood there admiring her. Through all the shite he had lived through and pain he endured, she was the treasure at the end of the rainbow. He thanked God daily for bringing her into his life. Even after meeting her in Islond, she continued to save him, be his peace, his support and his joy. He loved her. There was no question about that. There was no one else he wanted by his side, in his bed or holding his heart. She meant everything to him. But the part that still astounded him daily; he knew she reciprocated those same feelings and sentiments. 

 Who would have guessed that the worst time in his life, he would also find his salvation...the love of his life.

[halla-hunts-the-wolf]

A short-story preview.

Set in a story where years down the line, Fen'harel has yet to destroy the Veil, but his plights are making all of Thedas weary of the modern elves.

Four Dalish elves band together to avenge a massacre. Will they inflict Justice or Vengeance on those responsible? And what secrets will they uncover along the way?

Warning: Violent acts & Character Death.

----

On the outskirts of Ansburg, a Dalish settlement had been destroyed. 

They had been camping beside the coast, where a river drained off from the ocean. 

They’d thought that the lack of freshwater would make the paths less favorable towards merchants or humans in general.  Their aravels had been pitched and their halla let loose to graze. 

They lasted three days. 

On the fourth day, when two cloaked riders closed in on where the Dalish were meant to be, the stench of death still remained, carrion birds harvested bodies, and a started fire had laid waste to everything.  

Blood ran the river red by the time the two riders reached the desolate camp.

Their movements became slow and they approached with caution; anticipating an ambush, but all they were met with was the silence that the massacre left behind. 

“Maker,” one of the riders mumbled, bringing his arm up to cover his nose.  “Who could have done this? Do you think it could’ve been Fen’harel?” 

“No,” the other rider says, his voice somber and distant. “No, these elves were not his enemies and they did not deserve his wrath.”  As he spoke, he would have abandoned his mount, an older Dracolisk, beside the river. Carrying on by foot, he would assess the carnage.  Bodies lay to waste around him, many of which were missing their pointed ears. It was sickening, deplorable, and a byproduct of fear.  “Even so, this act is unforgivable.” His voice would crack, overwhelmed by anger  and grief. “There are so few of our people left, and the only thing they have done is chosen not to take a side in this foolish war.” 

“The war that we are fighting.” 

“Yes, because even though it is foolish, it can not be ignored.  Not when innocent people are being slaughtered like this.” The second rider would crouch down, to close the eyes of an elf who was staring up at the sky. “Falon’Din enasal enaste.” 

“What are we going to do now, carry on to Tevinter?” 

“We are going to bury them, and find those responsible.” 

The first rider lets out an exasperated sigh. “Lavellan, we don’t have the time-” 

“- Then we make time.” 

The first rider says nothing more, hanging his head in silent compliance. 

They spend their evening in this way, gathering bodies and offering them final prayers. They didn’t have the means to do a proper ceremony, but they would do their best with heavy hearts.  

Nightfall had soon come and gone, and as a new dawn broke across the sky, the two men sat across from each other, swallowing down their rations despite lacking a proper appetite.  

“So you didn’t find your dalish contact amongst the dead?” The first rider would ask, his bright green eyes were growing red, as he fought the  need to sleep.  Only in his mid-twenties, and a recently freed slave of the Tevinter Imperium, he was not used to the constant traveling and combat he had to endure while shadowing the former Inquisitor.  He rubs at his face, hands running across his mutilated vallaslin.  The branches that spread over his cheeks had been cut into and burned by his former master, when he was only eighteen and freshly kidnapped from his own clan. “Perhaps he went after those responsible?” 

“No,” Lavellan would shake his head. “Ryland would have waited for us, had he still been alive and of his own free will.” The older elf  would be fiddling with a string around his neck. He clutched at the sending crystal as if it was his life line with one hand, while the other, a prosthetic, would be clutching a potion. “This group was made up of smaller dalish clans, ones that were left abandoned by their clanmates when they joined Solas. Ryland was traveling with them, to bring them to another encampment on the other side of Nevarra.” 

“That was very noble of him.” 

“Yes, and I’m the one who asked him to do it.” 

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened, and drink your potion.” 

Lavellan would stop fiddling with his necklace, taking to unscrewing the cork of the bottle in his hand. “If we had gotten here a day sooner Ma’hallian, we may have prevented this from happening entirely.”  He would down the bottle in one go, guzzling it’s dark purple liquid, looking as if he’d just bit into a lemon afterwards. “This thing could be a poison.” 

“A poison that keeps you from keeling over in pain.” Ma’hallian would remind him gently, before reaching out to take the empty bottle from the other man’s hands. “And we didn’t get here a day sooner, so we have to keep moving forward.” 

“We will, as soon as the person responsible is brought to justice.” 

The white-haired elf would lean forward, fixing the former Inquisitor with a narrowed gaze. 

The older elf was on the cusp of fifty, with silver streaks in his long chestnut hair and wrinkles overtaking his darkened skin.  These days, his hands shook whenever he lifted his sword, and his amber eyes always smoldered with conviction. “Is it justice you are after, or is it vengeance?”

“The two are not so different, when faced with a situation like this.” 

“We both know that they are.” 

Lavellan hated being shown up by his assistant, someone who could be so callous and shy towards the rest of the world. The boy had spent the majority of his life either in solitude or servitude and yet, he still managed to come out of it with a remarkable sense of responsibility and level headedness. 

“I-” He does not get a proper sentence out, as a distant sound causes his ears to twitch. Ma’hallian hears it too and they rise to their feet.  

Ma’hallian draws a dagger from his belt and Lavellan pulls free his sword from its sheath.  They approach the source of the noise with silent steps, until they are looming over the site of a destroyed aravel. It’s red fabric and splintered wood had made a heavy pile, and something dared to move beneath it. 

“Careful,” Lavellan murmurs, “it may be an abomination that’s risen.” 

Leering forward with one foot, the elf  would kick the debris away, his sword poised to strike down, but he would stop just short of skewering another elf. 

An elf also nearing his fifties, with deep red hair that was coated in soot and streaked with soft greys. His face, while well defined, was covered in laugh lines and scars alike. They danced along his vallaslin for Ghilan’nain, etched in blue to match his eyes.   This new elf stares up at them, as a cough rattles throughout his chest and past his lips.  “Well, hello your highness. I survived then? Unless you managed to finally kick the bucket too.” 

“No, Ry, you’re just that lucky.” Lavellan would put his sword away before holding out a hand, hauling his former partner from the aravel. Eyeing him wearily, in search of any wounds that could prove fatal. 

“Ah well, what can I say? The universe loves me.” Ryland dusts himself off, wincing as he does so, but seemingly unharmed save for a few aches, bruises, and perhaps a concussion after being crushed beneath one of their landships. “How bad is it?” 

“You’re the only survivor.”

 The red-head takes in a sharp breath. “That can’t be right. Where are the bodies?” 

They take him to the people who they had wrapped or covered, ready to be buried, as time permitted them.  He looks them over, with blue eyes watering, before he shakes his head.  “There were younger elves here, children, and a mage. None of them are with the dead.” 

“Perhaps they perished in the fire that ravaged the camp?” Ma’hallain offers, supervising Ryland as Lavellan wanders off to their mounts. “Or animals picked off their remains?” 

“You are  a grim young man, Ma’hallain, but no. The only scavengers in this area are the birds, and they wouldn’t be able to devour  a body within a day, let alone a dozen or so. The person responsible for the siege must have taken them.” 

“And who was responsible?” Lavellan had rejoined them, bringing a fresh pair of clothes to Ryland from his carry on.

“There’s a human settlement nearby, Ansburg? They’ve recently come into new leadership and the man appears to be terrified of us knife-ears.” Ryland would strip there, pulling his otherwise tattered shirt over his head and tossing it to the ground.  Lavellan would hand him the clean one and Ma’hallian would have the decency to look away as he took off his pants as well. “When the local militia arrived, I told them that we had no ties with Fen’Harel or the Qun. They said that they were under orders and at the end of the day, all elves were the same.” 

“Yet they would never claim that all humans are murderers, would they?” 

“Fear is bred by ignorance, highness. They’ll get what’s coming for them.” 

Lavellan would grumble, “Did you at least scout Ansburg when you first made camp?” 

“Course I did, seemed like a normal shemlen village. Smelt of rotten fish and wet dog. There weren’t any elves, but I didn’t find that odd. There aren’t many flat ears left in the smaller settlements.”  

“Did you find where this new leader lived?” 

“It was the first thing on my list, but something seemed off about it. The whole village was sort of dreary, but his estate was shimmery, almost. Like the stones were reflecting the light.” 

Ma’hallian snaps back to attention, his ears drooping just so. “That sounds like warding, and a very obvious one.  I bet he is using it to scare others away, people do that in the Magisterium. Either to scare the already fearful, or to make a spectacle out of something valuable.” 

“So we’ll need a mage?” Lavellans asks. 

“Unless warriors suddenly know how to dispel things? Rogues most certainly do not.” 

“Oh,” Ryland would croon, “Do you know what it sounds like to me? It sounds like a call to Dorian. Tell him I said hello, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to know that I survived.” 

Rolling his eyes, Lavellan would turn away from the other men. Knowing that Ma’hallian was glib due to his many years living in darkness and Ryland was only using humor to cope with the carnage around them. 

[deviatedwinter]

Not what I imagined

(Matt Taylor x Reader)

!! My Gif

Summary: Reader is freezing in the mines looking for Matt

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: a few swears, just overall grim circumstances but if you're a fan of Until Dawn you're used to it ;)

Slightly inspired by @untildawnwrites-blog !

❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅

The screeching of metal brought you back to your senses.

You were clinging to a fallen fire tower that was slowly being swallowed by a dark ravine. Your  legs were folded underneath you as your boots rested on the decrepit railing, your hands gripping the deck. 

Just moments earlier you were with your friends Matt and Emily using the radio, trying to call for help. There was a psycho on the mountain who wanted to harm you and your friends. He had already gotten to Josh.. 

Shortly after a ranger received your cries, the tower fell.

You had been on the outside when you were startled by movement below. Something fast and strong had severed the tower's cables.

When the tower fell, it was as if it was falling on top of you. You clung to the building as the darkness of the ravine was thrown towards you.

Now, clinging to the rusted metal, you prayed that your friends were safe. Emily had been on the other side of the tower, so hopefully she must've jumped onto the snowy banks of the ravine before the tower totally sank.

Matt.

You cried out his name, hoping he was alright and hoping he could help you.

You heard a cough, and then some curses above you.

You then caught a glimpse of his violet jacket as he called your name out into the darkness.

"I-im here!" You cried, starting to feel heat emmenating from the small flames that licked the tower's interior.

"H-hold on, I'm coming!" You heard him grunt as the tower began to slowly creak.

You fought the urge to look down, knowing the drop was far. Instead, you tried to steady your breathing, the warm air from the flames mixing in with the frigid mountain draft.

Finally, you heard Matt above you.

"I'll try to get to you, just hold on!" He explained. You could just barely see his face above you once you craned your neck.

"Matt! Be careful!" You warned, not wanting his fate to be the same as yours.

A sickening creak sent your stomach spiraling in dread, but it was quickly interrupted when you saw a flash of movement above you.

A white sleeve, covered in grime followed by a beckoning hand awaited you.

"Grab my hand! I'll pull you up!"

Eagerly, you straightened out your legs to reach up and grab his hand.

That was your mistake.

At the sudden movement and shifting of weight, the railing you had rested upon gave way. A scream ripped from your throat, and suddenly Matt was growing smaller and smaller, and the cold wind bit at your skin. Above the sound of the air rushing past, you could've sworn you heard your name being cried out.

This was it. This is how you die.

You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting to be met with hard stone, a sickening crack.

But instead, you felt the stone for a split second before being enveloped by icy liquid. It invaded your lungs, the bitter coldness stabbing at you like thousands of needles. Finally, you managed to swim upwards, your body expelling the water inside your lungs with a retch.

You took a few moments to take in your situation. You were in a river at the very bottom of the ravine, it being mostly dark except for the flaming tower far above and the slivers of moonlight. The current was slow and there were several stalagmites poking through the water's surface. You were relieved you hadn't landed on any of them.

Water was still in your ears, your hearing mostly muffled. You once again could've sworn you could hear your name being called out. 

Quickly, you regained most of your senses before trudging to shore, the shrill creaking of the tower above you loud enough to cut through your suppressed hearing. As you climbed onto the cold bank, your body trembled from the severe cold. Pain also shot up your legs and spine, your muscles sore from the impact of the fall.  The freezing water had clung to you like plastic wrap, and crystals slowly began to form on your clothing. With chilly hands, your patted your ears as you tilted your head, your hearing coming back with a pop. 

You yelped as a loud crash was heard behind you, sending a spray of freezing water onto your already soaked body.

The tower had fallen into the shallow water, causing waves to lap at the bank. There was a hiss as flames were meeting their demise at the contact of water.

You needed to find warmth. 

But alas, any surviving flames were in the middle of the river and in the process of being snuffed out. 

Behind you was a mineshaft, and to your right were sluices and a large decrepit water wheel. At least other people had been here before, maybe there was a way out.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you slowly made your way into the shaft, your eyelashes begainning to feel heavier as the water droplets trapped in them froze. You shakily slid your hand over your back pocket, suprised to feel the outline of your phone, but immediately your hopes were dashed, remembering how long you were in the water. Would it still even work? 

You pulled it out anyway, your numbed finger pressing the power button for any signs of life.

Your heart lept when your lockscreen showed up, thank god for your waterproof phone case. 

shakily you turned on the flashlight, its small beam making the trek in the tunnel easier. You began feeling the effects of the cold, your clothes feeling like they were made of mesh as your skin was nipped by the chill. 

You watched your breathe come out in clouds, your lips feeling chapped as your toes and digits became numb. You had to find warmth. You had to find Matt.

You whimpered, hoping your friend was okay. You hadn't seen him at the bottom of the ravine, could he have jumped off onto a ledge? 

"Matt?" You called out to the air, your voice dripping with fear. Your hope began to fade, and despair settled in. It wasn't fair, you wanted him to know how you felt, how much you cared for him. But as far as you knew, he could be dead, and this could be your last night on Earth. 

It felt like you had been walking for hours. Your body ached, and the temperature seemed to be dropping by the minute. However, the shaft appeared to slowly rise at an incline, could you be getting closer to the surface?

Your steps had turned clumsy, your mind foggy as you tried to navigate the underground systems. You had no doubt that you were succombing to hypothermia, it would only be a matter of time before you stumbled off a ledge or passed out completely. You could've sworn that you heard screeches in the distance, but you blamed it on your deterriorating mind, and maybe bats. 

You found yourself at a cavern, mining equipment strewn about as if the miners would come back  any minute, if you didn't take in account the rust and rotting wood. 

Your body was tired, you just wanted to curl up and hopefully find warmth that way. So that's what you did. 

You lowered yourself on the hard ground next to a few decaying crates, your body shivering as you brought your legs to your chest. The ice that had formed on your clothing was splintering and falling away from your movement, another reminder on how totally frozen you were. You were engulfed in darkness once you shut off your phone. Sleep beckoned you to its peaceful grasp, and you eagerly fell into it. 

❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅❅

Matt made his way down a dark mineshaft, the lantern in his hand giving in some warmth in the bitter night. At every turn, he meekly called out for his lost friends, especially one of them.

The person he was head over heels over, that he promised himself wouldn't get hurt under his watch, was down here somewhere, and most likely dead. The person who he had planned to confess his feelings to by the warm fire, or under the stars while gazing at the mountains. 

He wasn't good enough.

That's all he could think about as he traversed the spindling corridors, his heart sinking with every step. He was right there, he could have done something. 

Right after the teenager had witnessed his friend fall into the darkness, he leapt to a nearby platform to avoid being brought down with the tower. He had laid on his chest, peering over into the abyss and crying out their name, his heart breaking with the silence that answered him back.

But he had swallowed the tears. He had to be tough, there was no sense in him dying as well, although a part of him felt like it.  He had found a lantern and was now trying to find a way out. Finally, after some time, he wandered into an opening, several crates and equipment lying dormant. 

His eyes scanned the cavern before they landed on a mass in the shadows near the crates. Slowly, he crept forward and he jolted as the lantern's golden light fell upon your sleeping form. 

"Oh shit!" He cursed before calling your name, quickly kneeling beside you. Thats when he noticed the ice caked onto your clothes, and how your hair had been frozen stiff. 

He gently shook you, his hands warm and slowly he felt some of the ice underneath his touch begin to melt.

Slowly, your sleepy eyes opened and met his frantic ones, relief washing over them at the sight of you awakening.

"Matt..?" you whispered, your voice a hollow rasp of what it usual was. 

"You're alive.." he breathed, still in shock but relief washing over him in waves

"How the fuck are you still alive..?" he asked softly with bewilderment, taking note of your coldness and quickly shedding his letter jacket.

"Water..I fell in..water.." Was all that you could muster as Matt helped you peel your shaking arms out of your soaked coat, replacing it with his dry one.  His body heat that was absorbed by the wool warmed you, your gaze falling onto him.

"What about you..? You're gonna be cold.." 

He gave you one of his gentle smiles before helping you up.

"I'll be fine, I still got this denim jacket and my sweater. Don't worry about me." 

The familiar pain shot up your spine as you stood, your posture faltering before a pair of arms wrapped around you, keeping you steady. 

"Can you walk?" He asked gently, surprised by your fragile state.

"It hurts.." You whimpered, hating that he had to see you this way. But the pain, the cold, it was all eating at your effort to stay strong.

Matt felt his heart once again snap in two, his eyes taking on the puppy dog appearance that you'd grow accustomed to. 

You yelped slightly as he picked you up, his arms looping under your knees as he held you bridal style. 

"Matt-" 

"It's fine, I got you. I saw a light further down the shaft, we're almost out I think. Can you hold this for me? it might keep you warm." He removed an arm from underneath your back to grab the lantern, gently allowing your hand to wrap around its handle. Once you were situated, he got up with hardly a grunt. Even after all the night's terror, he was still strong. 

As he carried you down the shaft, you listened to his breathing, his body heat and the heat from the lamp slowly warming you up and clearing your mind. 

"I don't think there's just a maniac up here.." He said aloud, as if he was talking to himself rather than you in particular.

Your mind went back to the strange shape moving underneath the fire tower before it fell, to the shrieks you had heard echoing in the mine.

"Yeah..theres some..thing.." You replied weakly, fear starting to grip you.

Matt quickly tried to lighten the mood, a small smile returning to his face.

"Yknow, this isn't entirely what I imagined carrying you bridal style would look like." 

Your gaze turned towards his face, the yellow light of the lantern showing you the scratch on his cheek along with the dirt that clung to his skin. His cheeks were flushed in the light. 

"What exactly... did you imagine?" 

He hesitated before answering, another smile twitching at his lips.

"You'd be wearing white, maybe I'm in a tux, flowers and rice being rained on us."

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks as well, them becoming warm despite your body's condition.

"When we survive this, I think that can still be...attainable." 

His joyful smile and reply was cut short by a shriek from behind, the color draining from both of your faces.

"Matt..?" You breathed out, fear gripping you.

His jaw clenched, the cogs in his mind spinning before he ran behind a wall of planks. He quickly set you down and turned the dial on the lantern to dim its light.

Both of you stood still as you heard something scampering on stone behind you. Matt held you close, his breath stalled as the creature screeched, the frail boards the only thing separating you and the monster. 

In the corner of your eye, you saw it. A gaunt, white creature crawled on the wall effortlessly, its limbs scuttling the surface like a spider. It shrieked once more before scampering to another area of the mines.

You slowly let out a breath, and so did Matt, the two of you sharing the same terrified and confused glance. Neither of you cared about what that thing was, you only cared about getting the fuck out of there. 

This time, Matt picked you up once more with haste, your hand barely scooping up the lantern before he stood and ran down the shaft.

You spotted light ahead peaking through some boards, and so did he.

You allowed him to set you down once more, this time standing on your own with the lantern as he backed up. You watched with shaky knees as he broke through the rotting wood with his shoulder, revealing a large outcrop with the lodge in the distance.

Holy fuck, you had wandered back to the lodge all the way from the tower...through the mines??

Matt held out his hand, and you gently took it as you both edged out onto the ledge, relief filling both you, the adrenaline coursing through your veins warming your bodies.

"Is it too soon the check up on your offer?" Matt breathed, his palms meeting his knees as he caught his breathe.

[newstfionline]

Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Beating The Heat Is Out Of Reach (IPCC, AP News) The U.N.’s Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) published a shocker of a report Monday summarizing the latest authoritative scientific information about global warming. 234 scientists contributed to the 3,000-plus-page report. Global temperatures have already risen by 2 degrees Fahrenheit (1.1 degrees Celsius) since the 19th century, the highest in over 100,000 years. Further warming is already “locked in,” meaning even if emissions are drastically cut, some changes will be “irreversible” for centuries. Ice melt and sea-level rise are already accelerating, and wild weather events like heatwaves and storms are expected to worsen and become more frequent. Earth is warming so fast that by the 2030s, temperatures will probably exceed the Paris climate accord’s ideal goal of no more than 2.7 degrees Fahrenheit and 1.5 degrees Celsius by the year 2100. The report called it a “code red for humanity.”

Infrastructure bill approved in Senate (AP) With a robust vote after weeks of fits and starts, the Senate approved a $1 trillion infrastructure plan for states coast to coast on Tuesday, as a rare coalition of Democrats and Republicans joined together to overcome skeptics and deliver a cornerstone of President Joe Biden’s agenda. “Today, we proved that democracy can still work,” Biden declared at the White House, noting that the 69-30 vote included even Senate Republican leader Mitch McConnell. The overwhelming tally provided fresh momentum for the first phase of Biden’s “Build Back Better” priorities, now heading to the House. A sizable number of lawmakers showed they were willing to set aside partisan pressures, at least for a moment, eager to send billions to their states for rebuilding roads, broadband internet, water pipes and the public works systems that underpin much of American life. The measure proposes nearly $550 billion in new spending over five years in addition to current federal authorizations for public works that will reach virtually every corner of the country. There’s money to rebuild roads and bridges, and also to shore up coastlines against climate change, protect public utility systems from cyberattacks and modernize the electric grid. Public transit gets a boost, as do airports and freight rail. Most lead drinking water pipes in America could be replaced.

COVID vaccines to be required for military under new US plan (AP) Members of the U.S. military will be required to get the COVID-19 vaccine beginning next month under a plan laid out by the Pentagon Monday and endorsed by President Joe Biden. In memos distributed to all troops, top Pentagon leaders said the vaccine is a necessary step to maintain military readiness. Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin said the mid-September deadline could be accelerated if the vaccine receives final FDA approval or infection rates continue to rise. “I will seek the president’s approval to make the vaccines mandatory no later than mid-September, or immediately upon” licensure by the Food and Drug Administration “whichever comes first,” Austin said in his memo, warning them to prepare for the requirement.

For first time, average pay for supermarket and restaurant workers tops $15 an hour (Washington Post) The U.S. labor market hit a new milestone recently: For the first time, average pay in restaurants and supermarkets climbed above $15 an hour. Wages have been rising rapidly as the economy reopens and businesses struggle to hire enough workers. Some of the biggest gains have gone to workers in some of the lowest-paying industries. Overall, nearly 80 percent of U.S. workers now earn at least $15 an hour, up from 60 percent in 2014. Job sites and recruiting firms say many job seekers won’t even consider jobs that pay less than $15 anymore. For years, low-paid workers fought to make at least that much. Now it has effectively become the new baseline. Economists caution that a higher average wage is not the same as a $15 minimum wage. Half of workers in these industries are still making below $15 an hour. Nonetheless, rising pay is still a game-changer for millions of workers.

Dry California tourist town to guests: ‘Please conserve’ (AP) Tourists flock by the thousands to the coastal town of Mendocino for its Victorian homes and cliff trails, but visitors this summer are also finding public portable toilets and signs on picket fences pleading: “Severe Drought. Please conserve water.” Hotels have closed their lobby bathrooms and residents have stopped watering their gardens in the foggy outpost about 150 miles (240 kilometers) north of San Francisco after two years of little rain sapped many of the wells Mendocino depends on for potable water. Mendocino’s water woes were compounded in recent weeks when the city of Fort Bragg a few miles to the north��its main backup water supplier—informed officials that it, too, had a significant drop in its drinking water reserves after the Noyo River recorded its lowest flows in decades. “This is a real emergency,” said Ryan Rhoades, superintendent of the Mendocino City Community Services District, which helps manage the water in the town’s aquifer.

Nicaragua recalls four LatAm ambassadors in tit-for-tat move (Reuters) Nicaragua has recalled its ambassadors to Mexico, Argentina, Colombia and Costa Rica for “consultations,” the government said on Monday, deepening the Central American country’s international isolation over its crackdowns on the opposition. Mexico, Argentina and Colombia recently recalled their ambassadors to protest against moves to clamp down on the opposition in Nicaragua, while Costa Rica a few weeks ago suspended the appointment of its ambassador to the country. On Saturday, U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken accused Ortega of taking new “undemocratic, authoritarian actions.” Blinken also singled out Ortega’s wife, Nicaraguan Vice President Rosario Murillo, and said the two were seeking to hold on to power “at all costs” with a strategy of disqualifying potential opposition candidates. Nicaragua is due to hold presidential elections in November in which Ortega is seeking a fourth consecutive term.

Twelve Days In Office, and Crisis Swamps Peru’s Leftist President (Bloomberg) Peru’s new president is off to a rocky start, selecting contentious ministers, alienating allies and setting the stage for a brutal face-off with congress, all within days of taking office. A rural teacher and union activist, Pedro Castillo won the election after reassurances that he’s his own man, not beholden to his party’s Marxist ideology or chief. But when he named his cabinet—including a prime minister who’s under investigation for being an alleged apologist for terrorists—analysts, opposition figures and even some who’d backed him expressed alarm, so much so that the word “impeachment” was heard more than once. “His political capital went up in smoke in 24 hours,” said Rodolfo Rojas, a partner of the Lima-based Sequoia political advisory group. “If he doesn’t change course, there’s no future for him.” Impeachment isn’t imminent, Rojas said, but a clash with congress looks likely. And while Peru has made a habit of ousting presidents, it’s rare for such a discussion to take place within days of inauguration.

French wine production set for a 30-percent drop (Washington Post) A confluence of weather woes is hurting France’s wine harvest. First, there was severe frost in the spring, which laid the foundation for disaster by damaging 30 percent of the production. Then, torrential summer rains hit western Europe in July, leaving parts of Germany and Belgium ravaged by floods, and leading to fungal attacks on grapes and their leaves in France. All of this has set France up for a wine supply drop of 24 to 30 percent this year—the lowest output since 1970, France’s farm ministry said Friday. For champagne, harvest potential has been slashed in half, some producers warned. In Italy, the world’s largest wine producer, high temperatures in the south caused an early harvest, while heavy rains in the north caused a late harvest, according to farmers association Coldiretti. Output is estimated to fall by 5 to 10 percent.

'We fought a great battle': Greece defends wildfire response (AP) As Greece’s massive wildfires were being largely tamed Tuesday, the country’s civil protection chief defended the firefighting efforts, saying every resource was thrown into the battle against what he described as the fire service’s biggest-ever challenge. Nikos Hardalias said authorities “truly did what was humanly possible” against blazes that destroyed tens of thousands of hectares (acres) of forest and hundreds of homes, killed a volunteer firefighter and forced more than 60,000 people to flee. Two other firefighters were in intensive care with severe burns. “We handled an operationally unique situation, with 586 fires in eight days during the worst weather conditions we’ve seen in 40 years,” Hardalias told a news conference. “Never was there such a combination of adverse factors in the history of the fire service.” Greece had just experienced its worst heat wave since 1987, which left its forests tinder-dry. Other nearby nations such as Turkey and Italy also faced the same searing temperatures and quickly spreading fires.

Smoke from Siberia wildfires reaches north pole in historic first (Guardian) Smoke from raging forest fires in Siberia has reached the north pole for the first time in recorded history, as a Russian monitoring institute warned the blazes were worsening. Devastating wildfires have ripped across Siberia with increasing regularity over the past few years, which Russia’s weather officials and environmentalists have linked to climate change and an underfunded forest service. One of Siberia’s hardest-hit regions this year has been Yakutia – Russia’s largest and coldest region that sits atop permafrost – which has had record high temperatures and drought. On Saturday, the US space agency Nasa said its satellite images showed wildfire smoke travelling “more than 3,000km (1,800 miles) from Yakutia to reach the north pole”, calling it “a first in recorded history”. It added that on 6 August most of Russia was covered in smoke. According to Russia’s forestry agency, this year’s fires have ravaged more than 14m hectares, making it the second-worst fire season since the turn of the century.

Lockdowns In Manila (Guardian) The more aggressive Delta variant of COVID-19 has led to record case numbers in countries across Southeast Asia. Indonesia, Thailand, Malaysia, and Vietnam have reported record cases in recent weeks. The variant was detected in the Philippines in mid-July and has spread to 13 of 17 regions. On Friday, the national capital region of Manila, with a population of almost 14 million, was placed under strict lockdown until August 20 in an attempt to slow the spread. Only authorized people, including those buying food, traveling for medical reasons, or frontline workers are allowed to go outside. The day before the lockdown went into effect, thousands rushed to vaccination centers and waited for hours hoping to get a shot. Rumors had spread that unvaccinated people wouldn’t be allowed to claim government aid or go outside.

Taliban Capture Sixth Provincial Capital (Foreign Policy) The Taliban’s advance across Afghanistan continued on Monday with the capture of Aibak, the capital of Samangan province, marking the sixth provincial capital to fall to the group in less than a week. Monday’s seizure was hastened by the defection of Asif Azimi—a prominent warlord with ties to the now defunct Northern Alliance—a worrying sign of shifting allegiances due to a rapidly changing situation on the ground. As the fighting drags on, pressure is building on President Ashraf Ghani to get a handle on the situation or get out of the way. Reports in Bloomberg and the Wall Street Journal paint a picture of an isolated leader whose best hope lies in rallying support from anti-Taliban groups ahead of an all-out civil war.

[separatepath]

Warrior Cats Rewrite AU - Rising Storm

Prologue remains the same, with ShadowClan being ill, and Runningnose interpreting a sign that a new dawn is coming.

A half moon has passed, and greenleaf is slowly setting in. Firepaw is out hunting with Cinderpaw, who manages to catch a pigeon. They talk about Cloudkit, and who would mentor him, and if he would fit in. They both think he will.

Fireheart overhears cats fretting about Whitestorm’s appointment as deputy, since it was past midnight, nor were they talked to about it, believing Whitestorm may be on the side of his brother. Cinderpaw whole-heartedly defends Whitestorm.

Seeing Bramblekit gives Fireheart an original reaction of shock and fear, which Goldenflower notices. She is determined to raise Bramblekit well, saying that he had nothing to do with his fathers deeds.

Whitestorm reminds Bluestar that Cloudkit needs to be apprenticed, and she lets him choose. After a talk with the medicine cats and Fireheart, they decide on Patchpelt for now. Cloudpaw takes his new name.

Bluestar asks Fireheart to go to the moonstone with her, letting Sandstorm handle Cinderpaw for the day.

They journey to the moonstone, but are stopped by a hostile WindClan patrol. Bluestar interprets this as a bad sign as they were stopped, which the clan do also. Patchpelt and Cloudpaw return, although Cloudpaw already seems to have been fed. He is punished by missing his first gathering.

At the gathering, Sandstorm talks about noticing Bluestar’s change, as it has become obvious since Tigerclaw’s actions. Fireheart agrees but doesn’t know how to address them.

A while later, Whitestorm, Sandstorm, Dustpelt, Brackenpaw, Smokepaw and Ashpaw capture two ShadowClan warriors by the border, known as Littlecloud and Whitethroat. Yellowfang identifies them as carrying Carrionplace Disease, and sends them away to avoid spreading the disease. On the way back, Fireheart and Sandstorm notice them leave via an underground tunnel, which they bring to Bluestar’s attention.

Cloudpaw seems to be getting rounder, and Patchpelt can’t control him. Fireheart and Patchpelt swap apprentices for the day, and Fireheart follows Cloudpaw from a distance, noticing entering a twoleg nest for food. This disheartens Fireheart, who talks to Greystripe and Sandstorm about what he saw. They persuade him to speak to Cloudpaw, who refuses to acknowledge that what he is doing is wrong.

Willowpelt has her kits, named Sootkit, Sorrelkit and Rainkit.

Dustpelt leads the sunhigh patrol the next day, and Fireheart notices he was growing as an individual without Tigerclaw’s influence.

Greystripe convinces Fireheart to head to RiverClan’s border, to try get news of Featherkit. They see nothing but withered plants, until catching scent of the sick ShadowClan cats.

Cinderpaw shows up to stop them chasing them off, saying she used knowledge from Spottedleaf and Yellowfang to help heal them. Fireheart allows the cats to stay.

Upon returning to camp, Patchpelt says Cloudpaw is missing. Fireheart rushes to the twolegplace, seeing Cloudpaw being taken away in a twoleg monster. He tries to go after Cloudpaw but fails

Sandstorm tries to comfort Fireheart but gets offended when he says that he has no one to turn to. Patchpelt seems relieved after hearing what happened to Cloudpaw, and Ashpaw finds out what happened to Cloudpaw.

The news spreads around camp, with Darkstripe being the cause. Bluestar makes Fireheart tell her the story personally, but seems unusually disturbed at what has happened. 

Fireheart receives another dream, this time from Lionheart, warning him of the enemy who seems to sleep. During the dream, Fireheart tries to apologise to Lionheart about what happened to Cinderpaw, his daughter, but he doesn’t get a response.

Believing the dream to be about the ShadowClan cats, Fireheart asks Cinderpaw to chase the ShadowClan cats out. She agrees, but teases Fireheart about Sandstorm becoming fond of him before doing so.

A quarter moon passes and greenleaf has arrived with a vicious drought. The elders go to the river to collect moss for the queens, and Whitestorm is getting very concerned about Bluestar’s condition, but doesn’t know what to do about it. Upon returning, Halftail says they were chased by young twoleg kits in the forest.

Fireheart and Graystripe go to fetch water from the river, checking that the ShadowClan cats have left on the way. They meet Swandancer, who is on a patrol, and she shares news of Featherkit being well.

Later that day, at camp, Mousefur, Thornpaw and Cloverpaw run into the clearing, saying that they had been attacked. Whitestorm, Greystripe and Fireheart rush out there, finding Runningwind’s body with Whitethroat standing over him. Without asking, the patrol attacks, and Whitethroat runs onto the thunderpath, getting hit and killed by a twoleg monster.

Tigerclaw reveals himself at the edge of the thunderpath, along with the other ShadowClan exiles. Sandstorm and Mousefur join the ThunderClan patrol to help fight. They are losing before Stonefur arrives with a RiverClan patrol to chase the rogues away.

The patrol takes Runningwind’s body back to camp, but Fireheart stays behind to drag Whitethroat’s body to the ShadowClan side of the border, realising Tigerclaw attacked Runningwind.

ThunderClan sits vigil for Runningwind, and guarding increases due to the attack. It takes Bluestar three days to name a replacement mentor for Cloverpaw - Brindleface. Tigerclaw’s attack becomes common knowledge.

Whitestorm organises more patrols but is ignored by Bluestar, whilst Yellowfang gives Fireheart advice while tending to his wounds.

Fireheart, Brackenpaw, Sandstorm and Cinderpaw head out on a hunting trip, where Fireheart shares his worries. An intruder arrives and is ambushed, but it turns out to be Barley.

Barley tells Fireheart of a kittypet nearby with ThunderClan’s scent, which Fireheart works out to be Cloudpaw. Sending Brackenpaw and Cinderpaw back to camp, the three head to the twolegplace whilst catching up. Barley reveals how Ravenpaw has recently gone missing after a twoleg went to the farm.

The patrol manages to rescue Cloudpaw, although they almost get caught in the process. Cloudpaw promises to never go near twolegs again, and Barley leaves.

On the way back, the warriors run into a patrol of WindClan cats, who they manage to chase off. Once back, a fight about whether Cloudpaw should stay occurs, which is only stopped by Whitestorm heading to Bluestar, who lets him stay - with some confusion.

That night, a fire strikes the forest. Brackenpaw was one of the first to notice and he and Cinderpaw are already up, helping the queens and kits leave, paying attention to Willowpelt and her kits

Halftail, Tansystripe and Bramblekit are missing, and Spottedleaf and Fireheart go to find them. Fireheart drags Halftail to safety, then rescuing Bramblekit, who was clinging to a tree. That tree then falls, blocking Spottedleaf and Tansystripe in, and Fireheart is forced to flee.

Halftail dies after due to smoke inhalation, but Bramblekit survives, as Yellowfang quickly tends to him. Greystripe asks what happened, and comforts Fireheart when he breaks that Spottedleaf is probably dead. 

The clan back down to the river, being forced to cross where the water is shallowest. They are forced to leave Halftail’s body behind, but as the last few cats get across, a RiverClan patrol arrives to help and then retrieve Halftail’s body.

The cats are able to stay in RiverClan for now, but Bluestar is too shaken to act, leaving Whitestorm in charge. Halftail has his vigil that night, and Greystripe spends all of his time with the quickly grown Featherkit.

The fire’s blame is quickly placed onto Whitestorm for his late ceremony, but Cinderpaw jumps to his defense, and he rations it away. Bluestar blames Fireheart due to the prophecy, massively increasing her hysteria.

The rain finally puts out the fires, and a patrol heads back to the camp. Tanystripe’s body is found and buried, and Spottedleaf gives Fireheart a few last words before dying of smoke inhalation. She is buried before the patrol heads back.

Bluestar demands to return to her own clan camp, and wants Spottedleaf’s body unburied to see for herself. The leader declares war on StarClan, not giving the dead cats a proper burial ceremony. 

After a vigil is sat, Whitestorm forces Bluestar to act for the sake of the clan. It takes several days, but eventually Bluestar makes Brackenpaw and Cinderpaw warriors, named Brackenfur and Cinderpelt - infuriating Thornpaw, Brightpaw and Swiftpaw - and reassigns Cloudpaw to Fireheart.

Bluestar refuses to go to the gathering, and Whitestorm forms his own patrol to go. At this gathering, they find out that Tigerclaw is the new leader of ShadowClan

Time Elapsed: About 2 moons

[yourjughead]

Potatoes and Starbucks

Sweet Pea x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Wow I'm rusty at writing fics oh my days, please let me know what you think regardless.

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

3rd person pov

It has been a long time since you had last walked the halls of Riverdale High. The place where dreams go to die and promiscuity is to be expected. It was a second home, obvious issues handling student mental health aside. The halls appeared smaller than they did a year ago, the boom of Serpent population not a subtle change.

"Welcome back nerd!!!" your redheaded best friend threw his arm around you before taking your bag and placing it on his own shoulder. You had missed a year of school, your parents opting for homeschooling whilst traveling around southern America

"Arch no need for the shouting, Greendale don't need to know I'm back as well" you bumped him with your hip, taking your bag back to your own shoulder. As you do this your water slipped from its holster, hitting the grimey floor and cracking open. A small flood following suit. The river of chilled water rushed down the gently sloping floor of a building suffering subsidence.

You stifled a laugh as Archie hurried to the nearby supply closet for a mop. The river coarsed on and into the path of a serpent, sending him sailing across the hall to land square on his back. You flushed red in embarrassment as the boy flushed red with anger. Laughter filled the halls, his serpent cohorts creating most of the noise. Your eyes met those of the fallen as Archie returned and busied himself cleaning. The tower of a boy walked towards you both, the laughter dying out.

"You dropped your bottle" the words were spoken through gritted teeth as he handed you the cracked bottle after collecting it from the floor bitterly.

"I uhh uhhh" you hurriedly tried to take it from his scarred hands, his grip not releasing. His knuckles turned white as more pressure was applied to the already damaged plastic, deepening its wounds.

"Sweet Pea, c'mon let's get you a towel or something" Fangs laid a hand on his best friends shoulder, gently trying to pull Sweet Peas gaze from yours. You couldn't keep it in any longer, a laugh rising from deep within and out into the halls. Sweet Pea couldn't hide his surprise and Fangs his shock.

"Oh God Sweet Potato sorry for laughing but you were just completely taken out" you managed through the laughter while patting his chest and taking your bottle.

"Anyway dude sorry about that, Arch c'mon let's head to home room" you gave a little wave and smile to the two Serpents and carrying yourself off with your best friend.

"Sweet Potato? Sweet Potato?!"

"You have to admit Sweet Potato, it's pretty funny" Sweet Pea shoved his friend away from the door of the chemistry lab. Through the laughter Fangs waved his best friend off as he left for his next class. Sweet Pea rolled his eyes on turning into the lab and crashing straight into you sending your scalding coffee into your chest.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT HOT! HOT! FUCKING HELL YOU MORON!" you'll pulled the steaming cloth from your boiler skin, cursing loudly as the chemistry teacher came to the incident from down the hall. Sweet Pea attempting to help and failing.

"YN! LANGUAGE! DETENTION!"

"Oh yeah students are openly taking drugs in the hallways and you're sending her to detention" Sweet Peas best intentions were tainted as the dragon lady chemistry teacher turned her fire to him, damning him with the same fate as you.

The both of you sat in sour silence, eyes on a black board that had seen better days. A week for you both in this hell. Your supervisor swung back in his chair, sound asleep, the clock deafening the room aided by the 60 year olds sleepy snoring.

"Yanno I know you're salty about your little swim this morning but I don't think 3rd degree burns is an equal trade" you whispered towards the back of the Serpents head, gently kicking his chair.

"Listen here Starbucks, I didn't mean to do that you, you clearly are accident prone and hell bent on drag down whoever you can with you" you scoff at him causing him to turn around to give you his full attention. His brow raised at you and all you could do was bat your eyelashes.

"I'm just saying I don't think a Serpent should be preaching the path of not taking anyone down for something they didn't do"

"Oh Starbucks that's cold" the boy with the jet black hair grabbed his chest in fake pain. A practically loud gargle from the supervisor caused you both to snap back forward. Sweet Pea rolled his eyes at the mess of a man before rising to his feet quietly.

"C'mon Starbucks I'm bored of this shit, we should just leave and come back before the end"

"What Sweet Potato? Do you want to go get coffee?" You gestured to your stained top gaining a smirk from the Serpent.

You didn't mind the motorcycle, a quicker way to reach the lookout point on one of Riverdales many mountains. Neither of you knew where to go with your time and landed here after getting lost. It being the happiest of accidents.

For the rest of the week you both went to detention for half an hour, left for the rest and returned before the old lump woke up. During this time you both found so many similarities it was hard to imagine any other kind of ending to the week. The world was allowed to flow on by you both on that mountain without ever disrupting you both.

"So like I guess this is the end" a somber tune rang through Sweet Peas voice as ye walked to the car park after your final detention. You gave a small sad smile to the towering boy before exchanging a brief hug and heading to walk away only to be stopped by a weathered hand grabbing yours.

"YN...emm… do you want to maybe go get that coffee?"

"Ehh I'd prefer a water" you winked at the Serpent you were maddeningly falling for.

"I think that can be arranged" he laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders and guiding you to his motorbike

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

[oraclesoftime]

Futures Known But Unspoken

CHAPTER 33 The Enchanted River The company continued to make their way through the woods of Mirkwood. Several days and nights have passed since they first entered and the dwarves were clearly beginning to act on edge. Their food supply was also beginning to wane, their portions becoming smaller and smaller, especially when Lane and Belle couldn’t give them a definitive answer about how much longer they’d be in the accursed place; neither woman knew. Kíli had managed to fire an arrow at a black squirrel that had scampered too close to the path, but upon skinning and roasting the animal and finding the meat to be borderline disgusting, they all came to the agreement that the trees weren’t the only sick things in this forest. The further the company traveled into the woods, the darker it seemed to get, the trees becoming more dense and soon they were having to squint to see much of anything. Belle and Lane did their best to try and lighten their traveling companions’ spirits, but even Lane playing a few songs on her lute could only go so far to lighten the dreary mood. After roughly three days of traveling, the company found themselves on the bank of a stream. The current was fast and strong, clearly ruling out the possibility of swimming across; that and many of them couldn’t swim. There was an old rotting wood bridge not too far away, but they decided against the risk. The water of the stream, whether by the darkness of the forest or the natural colour of it, was a murky black, Lane having to actually confiscate Bombur, Dwalin, Nori and Gloin’s water skins so that they wouldn’t try to collect and drink said water. “There’s a boat against the far bank!” Bilbo claimed, squinting through the darkness. “How far away do you think it is?” Thorin asked, walking up to stand beside the hobbit. “Not very far, no more than twelve yards,” Bilbo replied with a small nod. “Do any of you have a rope?” Belle asked turning to look back at the dwarves. “Rope? Why would we need a rope?” Nori asked, sounding confused. “I don’t know, maybe to tow the boat over to this side of the bank?” Lane scoffed, giving him a raised eyebrow. The dwarves all shrugged and quickly began digging in their packs, bringing out several ropes. “Alright, who feels like fishing?” Lane asked, taking one of the large fishing hooks from Bofur’s pack and tying it on the end of Dwalin’s rope. “Dori’s the strongest, but Fíli has the best sight,” Thorin claimed, motioning his heir forward. “Little Prince has the best eyesight? I’d think it’d be the archer,” Lane teased, handing the blond the rope as he walked up to her. Fíli gave her a small wink before walking over to stand on the bank, trying to gauge the distance he’d need to throw the hook in order to catch the boat. Bilbo stood not too far away to help out as his eyes seemed to be better accustomed to the darkness. It took Fíli a couple tries, but he finally managed to snag the wood of the boat with the hook. When he gave the rope a tug, he grunted when nothing happened. Kíli, Oin and Gloin walked over to help, all four giving a hard heave before they all fell over onto their backs. Bilbo and Belle’s hands shot out to grab the rope as the boat began to drift down the current, Lane and Balin dashing over to grab it before it could float away. “It must have been tied down on the other side,” Balin hummed. “That was a good pull my lads; and a good thing that our rope was the stronger.” “Who wants to go first?” Bilbo asked, looking around the group. “I will, and you three with me,” Thorin claimed, looking at their burglar and two Oracles. “That’s as many as it looks like it will hold at a time.” An order was quickly set by their leader; first him, Bilbo, Lane and Belle, then Fíli, Kíli, Oin and Gloin, then Dori, Ori, Nori and Bifur, then Bofur, Balin and Dwalin and finally Bombur. “Why am I always last,” the chubby dwarf pouted. “If you weren’t so fat we wouldn’t have to put you on the last and lightest load,” Thorin sighed, giving the dwarf a warning look. “Stop grumbling against orders or something bad will happen to you.” “We don’t have oars, how are we going to send the boat back and forth?” Bofur asked as he walked over to the boat. “Give me another rope and hook,” Fíli said, walking over to the boat. Dori gave the blond his hook and rope, Fíli tying them together before tossing the hook with all of his might up high across the water. They could hear a small rustle of leaves and figured it had gotten caught in the branches of a tree. “We’ll use this one to pull us across to the other bank, and use the first rope and hook to bring it back here,” he explained, looking around the group. “Huh, colour me impressed,” Lane hummed. “I guess you do have brains to go with your looks.” Many of the company turned to give the taller woman a round of confused and mildly scandalized looks, Lane taking a few seconds to realize she was being scrutinized before rolling her eyes, grumbling and quickly climbing into the boat. Belle, Bilbo and Thorin climbed into the boat with her and Thorin pulled them across to the other side. The boat continued to go back and forth across the water until it was finally Bombur’s turn. When the large dwarf made it to the bank, there was a sound of rushed hoof falls quickly approaching them. The company quickly spun around in time to catch sight of a large stag dashing towards them before it leapt over their heads, over the water of the stream and landed on the other side. “Oh no! Bombur!” Belle cried out, hearing a small yelp and a splash. Having been startled by the stag racing towards him, the plump dwarf had lost his footing and tumbled backwards into the water, his hands flailing above him in a vain attempt to grab hold of something, thus accidentally pushing the boat away from the bank allowing it to float away down the stream. Quickly tossing one of the ropes and hooks to him, Bombur’s hands managed to grab hold of it and they all managed to heave him onto the shore. “Bombur! Bombur are you… are you sleeping??” Bofur gawked, giving the peaceful form of his brother an odd look. “The stream… it must have been enchanted…” Lane hummed. “Wake him, quickly!” Thorin ordered. Several of the dwarves tried many different tactics, but Bombur never stirred from his slumber causing them all to cast wary looks at each other. “We’ll camp here for the night; hopefully he’ll wake by morning,” Thorin grumbled, glaring at the slumbering dwarf before walking over to a nearby tree to rest against it. Belle and Lane both exchanged worried look; none of this had been in the movie. The two were utterly baffled and lost and would be all but useless until the time came for the dwarves to get nabbed by the spiders. Everyone quickly formed a small camp as the forest became darker and darker, no doubt due to the setting sun outside of the woods. They left Bombur in the bank of the river, none of the others having the willingness nor strength to move him. Before any of them could manage to fall asleep however, on the path ahead of them appeared some white deer, a doe and two fawns, their coats seeming to all but glimmer in the shadows. Before either of the women or Thorin could utter a single word, Kíli, Fíli and Ori had leapt to their feet and shot off a barrage of arrows and daggers, none seeming to make their mark. “Stop stop stop STOP!” Lane barked, finally rising to her feet and marching over to the trio and all but ripping their remaining weapons from them. “Did we not learn this lesson with the fucking squirrel?!” The three groaned and lowered their heads as the three deer seemed to vanish in the trees as silently as they had come. The company managed to get little rest that night, the air of the forest slowly seeping into them all, even the women to an extent. The following morning they found that Bombur continued to sleep, Thorin giving an aggravated growl before claiming that they would have to carry the dwarf with them. Dwalin, Dori, Fíli and Gloin were the first one’s to do so, the others carrying their bags for them as they continued to trudge through the seemingly never-ending forest. “I thought you said a few days. It’s been a few days yet we are no closer to the end of this confounded wood!” Thorin growled, glaring at the two leading women. “If we’re going for political correctness here, then technically I said it could take up to a week or a few more days. Neither of us have ever been in this forest before Thorin; the only reason we’re not already dead is because we’ve managed to stay on the path like Gandalf told us to,” Lane scoffed, turning slightly to give the dwarf leader an affronted look. Thorin simply continued to mutter under his breath as Lane rolled her eyes and continued to tap the way along the path. The company continued to the best of their abilities to keep their slow but steady pace, but after four days of feeling hopeless, having to hoof Bombur’s massive weight around for hours on end and their food supply now down to little if not nothing, it was understandable that the overall mood began to plummet. Lane had given up trying to serenade the others with her lute, especially when Dwalin threatened to clock her over the head with it if she continued to do so. Bombur continued to sleep much to the growing irritation of the others as everyone except Lane and Belle had all be subjected to having to carry his mass, even poor Bilbo more than once. Now six days in total away from the enchanted stream, even Lane and Belle were beginning to lose hope. They were still on the path, Lane was forever making certain of it, but the path never seemed to end, the two wondering more than once if the path had full circles in it. “Will there never be an end to this accursed forest?” Thorin growled. “Somebody climb a tree a see if they can spot our nearest way out.” Several pairs of eyes shifted to look back at Bilbo, the hobbit having been carrying Kíli’s pack for him while he helped with Bombur along with Bofur, Nori and Ori. “This is different, didn’t Bilbo think of the whole tree thing?” Lane asked her friend, her voice barely above a whisper. Belle simply shrugged while giving her friend a confused look. “You very well may be the lightest amongst us all Master Burglar. Top the trees and find the edge of the wood,” Thorin spoke, giving the hobbit a small nod. Bilbo gave a small huff, but with the help of a few of the others, managed to climb up onto the lowest branch of what appeared to be the tallest oak in the area. When Bilbo climbed high enough to escape their sight, Bombur was placed back down on the ground and his carriers all but fell down to the ground from exhaustion. “I wish there was something we could do…” Belle whimpered, not liking to see the company of sturdy and battle-hardy dwarves so close to giving up. “There isn’t really anything we can do. Other than taking the path, we don’t know a way out of here, save the waterway from Thranduil’s castle,” Lane sighed, tapping the tip of her sword against the path out of habit. Belle released a sigh of her own and nodded, understanding that her friend was right. Bilbo climbed back down from the tree a few minutes later and relayed the dismaying news; he couldn’t see an end to the forest, if anything the trees seemed to tower more than ever around where he had gone to look. “Maybe it’s just the wrong tree to climb?” Belle suggested, doing her best to leave that tiny spark of hope. The dwarves simply grumbled and agreed to set up camp again for the night. They ate what crumbs were left of their food supply and got no sleep that night, beginning to set off again when Thorin deemed it morning full of irritation and loss. Their spirits lifted the tiniest bit unexpectedly through Bombur. The fat dwarf woke up suddenly and sat up scratching his head. He couldn’t make out where he was at all, claiming that the absolute last thing he could clearly recall was the “party” at Bilbo’s back in May. Needless to say it had been a task in itself trying to make him believe in the tale that they all told him about what had happened so far. This getting more tiresome when they told him that they no longer had anything to eat. “Nothing to eat!? Oh, why did I ever wake up!” he cried. “I was having such lovely dreams. I was dreaming that I was walking in a forest much like this one, only lit with torches on the trees and lamps swinging from the branches and fires burning on the ground; and there was a great feast going on, going on forever-” “Enough Bombur!” Thorin barked, turning back to glare at the whimpering dwarf. “We are all too aware of the lack of food we carry, you whimpering about it like a child will not make the situation any better!” Bombur continued to pout, Bofur walking over to pat his brother on the shoulder with a sigh before helping him to his feet. The company continued to be lead through the forest by Lane and Belle, Bombur on more than one occasion crying about how his legs were tired and he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. “Oh no you don’t!” Bofur barked, giving his brother a glare. “Let your legs take their share; we’ve carried you far enough!” “What was that?” Balin called out, pointing to the front of the group. “I thought I saw a twinkle of light in the forest.” Everyone turned to see that, indeed, there was a red twinkle in the dark; then another and another sprang out behind it. The company hurried along the path, eager and hoping that it was at least the way out of this blasted forest. The light was in front of them and to the left of the path and when they finally were beside them, it became obvious that the torches were away from their road. “It looks like my dreams have come true!” Bombur cheered. “A feast wouldn’t do us any good if we were to never return from it,” Thorin sighed. “But without a feast we won’t be alive for much longer anyways,” Bombur shot back. The dwarves argued back and forth about it for a couple minutes, Lane, Belle and Bilbo standing off to the side and heaving a collective sigh. “As much as I like the idea of food, we can’t risk losing the path,” Belle hummed. “Yeah, and even assuming that those lights lead to this extravagant feast that Bombur was dreaming of, who’s to say that when everyone has their fill we won’t be lost forever,” Lane agreed with a nod of her head. “I think we should steel ourselves and keep moving.” “But Bombur does have a point, that if we are to continue down the path, which we have no idea as to how much longer it is, we very well may perish from hunger or worse,” Bilbo claimed. “The average person can last up to a week without food, they’ll live,” Lane scoffed. “But the average person can only last three days without water, and we don’t have any of that either,” Belle spoke. “Oi! Who’s side are you on!” Lane huffed, glaring down at her friend. “I’m not… on anyone’s side, I’m just saying…” Lane rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest as Bilbo walked over to talk to the dwarves, all of whom seemed to have come to a conclusion but were still discussing something or other. Just as Lane was about to step forward and insist that they keep moving, all thirteen dwarves and Bilbo dashed into the forest to follow the lights. “Wait! GUYS!!” Belle cried, blindly reaching out for the others as they dashed off. “Lane what do we do?! They just ran off!!” “I can fucking see that,” Lane groaned, rubbing her temples with a small scowl stretched across her features. “What should we do!? Should we go after them!?” Belle whimpered, looking back and forth between her friend and the disappearing backs of the company. “You really don’t remember this part?” Lane snickered, giving her friend a teasing grin. “When they go running off they get lost and are attacked by the spiders. Or at least I'm assuming that's what's about to happen; the bullshit with Bombur never happened in the movie so maybe this'll change too…” Belle flinched and gave a small whimper, jutting out her bottom lip in a pout as her eyes nervously shifted from tree to tree. “But… we’re supposed to stay with them…” “Listen, I’m sure that we’ll meet up with them at some point if we keep following the path. If we meet any elves along the way we can demand our dwarves back by trading in you instead,” Lane hummed, taking her friend’s hand and leading the way forward. “EXCUSE ME!! You are not trading me in for a bunch of dwarves!!” Belle barked, glaring up at her friend. “Even if that means you get to oogle at Legolas~?” Lane grinned, a knowing look on her face as she turned to her friend. Belle’s cheeks went pink and moved her glare down to her shoes instead, muttering several choice things about her friend causing the taller to laugh.

[codyfernaesthetic]

Dichotomy

Part 15

Warnings: mass scale human suffering

Day 1

The first plague came without fanfare; it happened within a blink of time. One moment, the irrigation system put in place was working perfectly, and the next, people were choking on blood and the watering system was spraying red over every plant..

Michael was called immediately to a meeting with the Cooperative, who proved the direness of the situation by opening a bottle of water, crystal clear until being poured out as thick, red gore.

Michael poured the liquid into his hand, attempting to change it back as it splashed onto his skin. What would have normally been a simple parlor trick to him was now impossible. Mallory, who had accompanied him to the Cooperative’s disapproval, had the remaining put into a bowl. She spread her hand over the bowl, concentrating all the energy she could, but it remained blood.

“Send out a group to to inspect any nearby lakes or rivers to start the decontamination process,” Michael ordered.

“We already did,” one replied, “Every body of water for the nearest 300 miles is blood.”

“There has to be some other kind of water storage you have,” mallory chimed in, much to the room’s surprise.

“Why, thank you for the suggestion, Miss Mallory,” the same one replied disdainfully, “But we’ve gone through each backup storage since the first incident was reported, and not a single one isn’t pure blood.”

“Even the water systems for the animals?”

“Every trough, every aqueduct, every toilet is filled with blood.”

“And even worse,” another stood up, “We’ve tested several residents and animals; at least 50 cases from each housing district and 80% of our animals have tested positive for HIV. We’ve ordered a complex-wide testing.”

Michael placed his hands on the table, “How? Have they been drinking the blood?”

“No. So far, everyone who so much as eaten or drunk anything from an hour before the first report is contaminated. Either their food and drinks were already so-“

“Or they transmuted inside of them,” Mallory finished.

“Lord Langdon, have we done anything to offend your father that he would send this curse?”

“It’s her!” One screeched, pointing at Mallory, “The one from Outpost 3!”

The room began to murmur and agree. Michael waved his hand, “Enough! I will speak with my father. See what must be done.”

He stormed out of the room to their disgruntled shouts. Mallory followed behind him, quickening her pace to keep up.

“It’s her, Michael, she told me she’d hurt me if I didn’t comply. And now she wants to bring the whole Sanctuary into it.”

He didn’t slow down, keeping his deliberate, heavy gait. She rushed in front of him, putting out her hands to stop him, “Michael!”

“I have to speak to my father,” he told her sternly.

“He’s not going to take away something that will push us further into the plan.”

His eyes were wild, “And what would you have me do, Mallory?”

“I...I don’t know.”

He sighed, placing his hands on her shoulders, “You and I are the only ones who have hope of saving them. Do you think you’re strong enough to heal them?”

“All of them?” She shook her head, “I’ve never tried healing en masse before.”

“We don’t have to get to all of them today,” he touched her cheek, “I’m going to get you total clearance so those assholes don’t harass you and we will do what we can to keep this contained.”

She nodded, placing her hand over his and kissing his palm.

“Mallory,” he looked her dead in the eyes, “I won’t hurt you either.”

Day 2

Mallory was able to get through nearly all of the infected humans, but barely a fraction of any of the animals by the time the next day came. Michael told her to return to the house and rest, and being so exhausted, she didn’t protest. Meanwhile, they were quickly finding out that neither magic nor science was able to fix their water problem.

That’s when the swarms came.

They started out as a rising black cloud from the east, appearing like a solid column from a distance; but they didn’t make a single blip on any of the Sanctuary’s radar or cameras, they couldn’t tell how far away it was or how fast it was heading their way. They decided the safest bet was to evacuate all residents into the underground shelters. Then as if hearing their plan, the swarm descended on the Sanctuary in an instant, passing through the protective ceiling like it was air. They were a legion of large ugly bugs with thick outer black shells and tails like scorpions. Their arrival sent the residents into a panic, and only a small percentage were able to get underground. Michael tried burning them, flinging blasts of fire straight into pockets of them, but it was as if they absorbed the flames. He appeared in the house, screaming for Mallory to get to safety.

“What’s going on?!”

“Some kind of swarm,” he urged her, “get to the shelter underneath here, there’s a secret passage from the bedroom-“

“What about them?!” She indicates to the ensuing chaos, “I have to help them!”

“We’re getting them shelter as quickly as we can, get underground now. There’s a false wall across from the bed, open it stay down there until I come to get you.”

Arguing with him would only delay the inevitable. She did as he said and found the passage, feeling like a coward as she hid down there while the world above was suffering.

When Michael came to get her, she didn’t know exactly how many hours it’d been. He looked so defeated, his shoulders sagging slightly as they left the shelter.

“How bad is it?” She asked hesitantly.

He frowned, “No one’s dead.”

“That’s good, right?”

He shook his head, “Whatever those things were, they were poisonous.”

He didn’t elaborate, which worried her more than anything.

“How many?”

“Too many for you to try and heal.”

She straightened, “I can’t just hide here when I can help them.”

“Mallory, it’s not pretty.”

“I can handle it.”

The main lawn had been turned into a makeshift care center, tents raised up all around where doctors did their best to treat the poisoned patients.

The sight was even worse than she expected. There were only a handful of people Mallory saw that weren’t covered on each patch of visible skin with red, swollen boils; green pus and blood leaked from them. Every report said the boils were unbearably itchy and agonizing to the touch. When she was spotted by some suffering residents, they formed an angry mob almost instantly, screaming about how she was to blame, that she was bringing all their misery. They would have ripped her to shreds if Michael hadn’t surrounded the two of them in a wall of fire.

“Take another step and I’ll finish what the swarm started!”

They called out accusations and curses, telling her to be thrown outside to the elements.

“She’s the only one with a chance of helping you!” He yelled over them, “If you lay a finger on her, I’ll burn this entire complex to the ground!”

The mob eventually subsided, allowing Mallory to try and heal as many as she could, though she was just as dehydrated and hungry as the rest. Every time it felt like the wind being knocked out of her. She’d stumble back, feeling emptier than before. When she tried to heal a group of them at once, she fainted. Michael rushed her back to the house and revived her. He told her to stay there. They would try again later.

__________

She visited some place in her sleep, different from the field of flowers she’d seen. This was fortress made of jewels, burning white light creating columns for support. A path of water like glass stretched forward leading to a throne. She took an unsure step, finding herself able to walk over the water easily. As she drew closer to the throne she saw her; sitting upright with head held high, adorned with a crown of stars, a billowing white dress flowed down like a waterfall to her feet.

Mallory stopped right in front of it, glaring at her.

“How long will you wait to yield to my will, Mallory?” She asked, shaking her head disappointedly, “Will you stand atop the bodies of humanity’s last efforts before fulfilling your purpose?”

“How can you talk about peace and healing while you destroy what’s left?”

“This world was going to be set ablaze regardless of who won the war,” she said proudly, “He burns for chaos. I burn for purification.”

Mallory felt disgust roiling in her stomach, “Those people don’t deserve to die.”

“Those people are the cause of all this in the first place. I’d say that is cause for divine judgement.”

She threw up her hands, “You can’t punish them for setting them up to fail!”

The woman on the throne gazed into her eyes, “This isn’t about the people in the Sanctuary, Mallory. This is about Michael,” her tone grew mocking, “the broken little orphan who needs a mommy. And you are willing to let the world burn while you fill that void in him and yourself.”

The words were spears to her heart.

“I love him.”

The woman sighed heavily, “The human body can only survive three to four days without water, Mallory. Time is running out.” She placed her hand over her heart, eyes full of grief, “I take no pleasure in this, but if your insolence continues, I will send my wrath upon them until they are all dead. I will break you if I must.”

Day 3

Morning never came. Or at least, all lights had been extinguished. The complex had been covered in thick, inky blackness. To even move through it was like wading through mud. All electricity was down and couldn’t be fixed; even flash lights were unable to pierce the darkness. It was as if all light had been swallowed into this dark vortex. No one moved or talked for hours, like they’d been buried under the darkness.

When the blackness dissipated, the entire complex was disoriented for several minutes; just long enough to see the fire raining from the sky straight towards them. There was no time for either Michael or Mallory to do anything. They, as well as the others, were lucky enough to escape into the shelters this time, but the fire crashed into their granaries and stables, killing nearly every plant and animal not already contaminated. Whatever blood that hadn’t been filtered out of the complex was used to douse the fire; and when they emerged, their utopia had met its own apocalypse. The stench of gore and burning flesh and plants billowed out with the waves of black smoke pouring through the now damaged dome, the complex was smoldering, only the bottom levels remained untouched.

The once greatest achievement of human ingenuity was now reduced to huddled masses sitting in odorous, burning piles of their former glory.

Michael and Mallory shared a grief stricken glance.

They couldn’t defy their parents for much longer. Not if they wanted anyone to survive.

Day 4

Mallory remembered when Michael told them that there were pillaging cannibal hordes raiding the insecure Outposts. The Sanctuary, however, had been untouchable. But now that their resources were all but annihilated, and the integrity of their structural complex was compromised, those hordes descended upon the vulnerable residents like vultures to a carcass.

Michael and Mallory fought them off for as long they could for the residents to barricade themselves. Even weakened, Michael set fire to many at once; their bodies and souls wiped from existence. Mallory pushed the back with all the force she could muster. Her arms were outstretched, sending telekinetic tsunamis to force the hungry raiders back several feet. Her heels were dug deeply into the dirt, her entire body straining, head pounding-

She was knocked to the ground, a crushing weight over her chest as she lay flat on her back. She registered that two knees were atop of her, connected to a man, angry and holding a makeshift spear.

It was Brock.

His hair was overgrown, except for the top which was bald and covered in radiation burns. He was covered in blood, stinking of rotten flesh.

Mallory froze, petrified as he lifted the spear to plunge it through her, a murderous, inhuman screech resonating from his throat-

A figure tackled Brock to the ground, keeping him into a chokehold while he struggled, thrashing his spear wildly. The young man, dressed in servants clothes, red haired and freckled screamed to her, “Run!”

She began to cry, involuntary, recognizing the face from so long ago, “Bartholomew…”

“Run, Mallory!” He cried again.

Adrenaline pushed her to her feet and she ran, she didn’t know where to. Bodies and chaos blocked every path. Screams pierced her ears. She began to sob, covering her head and dropping to her knees.

There was a flash of white. A female voice.

Only you prolong this madness, Mallory.

The young witch threw out her arms, lifting her face to the heavens and released a shrill roar, like a battlecry to enforce aid from the earth. Blood dripped from her nose and mouth, every muscle taught with power.

The ground shook violently. The rumble of shifting earth overpowering the terrified screams. Deep trenches opened up like pits of hell, ravenous jaws swallowing hordes of raiders in their wake. The living residents scrambled away, the invaders falling to the depths. Michael dropped to the ground, staring in awe as Mallory ascended above the scene, light bursting from her fingertips, vaporizing those who weren’t devoured by the pits.

What was left of the hordes retreated, taking what spoils they could grab. As the last of them disappeared, Mallory slowly descended to the ground, the light fading and her cry ceasing. Michael ran to catch her, clutching her close as she passed out into his arms, breathing shallow and soaked in sweat.

“It’s gonna be ok, Mallory,” he sounded so small, whispering assurances in her ear, tears falling from his cheeks to her dress. He recalled a moment from his childhood, gripping onto the dead body of his grandmother in that cursed house. He held tighter, praying to whatever could answer that she would return to him.

________________________

She was back inside the castle of white light, this time on her knees before the throne. The woman looked on her lovingly, stretching out her hand, beckoning her daughter to come forth. Mallory slowly stood, shuffling to her. The woman took her hand, giving her a sad smile, “Yes?”

Her voice was ragged, barely above a whisper.

“What do you want me to do?”

[neo-kajatrash]

Short WoW fic below the cut:

If anyone’s interested :/ It’s about my boy Ruszell, and my other boy Karuon. 

Fall from Venture Co.

“I’m gettin’ real sick o’ your attitude, boy!” the older goblin growled, pointing a knobby finger at Ruszell and taking a threatening step closer.

Ruszell held his ground and glared right back at him, turning his round nose up and baring his sharp teeth. The messy brown hair that wasn’t tied up in his ponytail fell over his forehead, and his bright pink eyes glinted with annoyance and frustration. He leaned with his elbow on the handle of his pickaxe, wearing only his working pants and boots, with his shirt tied around his waist and suspenders hanging over his hips. Sweat from the day’s work glistened on his earthy green skin in the evening sunlight, which cast long shadows across the grass in front of him.

They stood at one of the smaller entrances to the Venture Co. Mine--just a few feet from a tall cliff that dropped down to the plains of Mulgore--and were only now just taking their afternoon break. A few other goblins were taking their break as well, but they all sat closer to the entrance near the log piles enjoying the shade the mountain provided and talking amongst themselves. Just beyond the rocky clearing was the beautiful dry valley, stretching on for miles below and practically glowing in the setting sun. From where they were, they could see much of Mulgore and its peppering of pine forests and rivers--along with the tall silhouette of Thunder Bluff far away against the cloudless sky.

Ruszell hadn’t eaten yet, so he was getting even more annoyed that this old goblin he only just met a few weeks ago was trying to start something with him. His large, turned-up ears swiveled towards him angrily, multiple piercings swaying from the movement.

“Ahh, shove off!” he barked back. “I’m only just lettin’ you lot know that I don’t belong here with all o’ you. I’m supposed to be all over Azeroth, traveling and adding to my map--if it weren’t for my dragon being stolen!”

“So you’ve said,” the older goblin grumbled, dark eyes narrowing. “About a million times over! What makes you so much more special than any of us? Too ‘good’ for this work, huh? I swear if I hear about your so-called ‘adventures’ one more time, I’ll--”

“You’ll what, old man?”

The goblin stopped and glared at him for a moment, wrinkled face twisting with anger. But then he seemed to relax slightly, and his voice lowered.

“I’ll get rid o’ ya... so we don’t have to hear it no more. Anyone ever tell ya you’re unbearable to be around, ya lousy conceited git?”

He took another step towards him, clutching his own pickaxe in his hand. Ruszell stiffened a little, ears flicking back for a moment as if remembering that only a few steps behind him was nothing but a sheer cliff.

“Ahh, shut ya trap,” the hunter argued back, glancing around a little uncomfortably. “What, ya gonna kill me? Just cause I’m better than you, and you’re jealous? Huh?”

“...Ya say ya had a dragon, right?”

Uneasy now, Ruszell swallowed and lifted his pickaxe. He glared harder at the goblin as if daring him to take another step closer, but it was obvious by his trembling ears he was getting nervous over his threats.

“Yeah,” he answered through his teeth. “A rocket-enhanced, two-headed wyvern.”

“Well then… you better hope it’ll show up now and save ya, then,” the older goblin said with a crooked, malicious smile.

In a bit of a panic from the miner’s aggressive tone, Ruszell lunged toward him--but the old man was too fast. Without warning the goblin swung his pickaxe and flung the young hunter’s own tool out of his hands, sending it clattering backwards down the cliffside. Ruszell’s eyes widened at that and he tried to jump past his attacker to avoid him, but the fed-up goblin quickly swung again. He caught the younger goblin’s bare side with the end of his pickaxe, sending blood splattering over the grass and drawing a shocked and painful shout from its victim.

“Aauughh!! Damn!”

The injured goblin fell to his hands and knees, breathing hard and wincing as sticky blood seeped over his skin. Head bowed, he quickly lifted a hand to grip his wound, as if it would help.

After a short second of suffering he looked back up at his enemy, seething furiously with pain glimmering in his eyes. But instead of fighting, he started to scramble desperately further from the cliff, towards safety--and possibly towards another goblin miner who would help him... However the old man just chuckled darkly and leaned down to grab him forcefully by the neck. Dragging him up with strength that the younger goblin didn’t expect, he walked back towards the cliff and only stopped when Ruszell was hanging over the edge by his outstretched arm.

Scratching hard at the old man’s strong hand around his throat and thrashing his feet as he choked, Ruszell’s eyes were now only filled to the brim with mortal panic. His face paled when he glanced down at the lightly forested plains below, watching as his own blood dripped down his leg and sailed towards the earth.

“P-Please!!” he gasped as he struggled in the air, pink eyes wide and ears pulled far back. “Don’t… I-I’m--s-sorry…!”

“Heh… too late, little boy…” the older goblin hissed, still holding his pickaxe in his other hand. “I’d tell ya you’ve learned your lesson for next time… if there was to be a next time.”

“L-let me go…!” Ruszell pleaded pitifully, heart pounding and chest rising and falling with panicked breaths. His whole body trembled with the threat of death so close, and he had no way to escape. Was this really how it was all going to end?

“Poor choice of words,” answered the old man with a smirk.

The miner suddenly released his grip, watching with satisfaction as the younger goblin plunged downwards. Crying out with fear, Ruszell tried in vain to grab the dusty cliffside with scrambling hands on his way down… But soon the old goblin couldn’t see him anymore, and only just heard his screams echoing in the dry air.

After a good moment of just staring out at the plains, the old miner just sniffed and hoisted his bloodied pickaxe over his shoulder.

“Good riddance, kid.”

The large black and white tauren sighed tiredly and glanced around, running his fingers through the loose black hair that fell forward between his curved, front-facing horns. He huffed through his ringed nose, pierced ears flicking for a moment to ward off small flies. As he put his hand back down and stroked his braided beard once, his bright green eyes searched the place for any more herbs he needed.

Karuon decided he was all stocked up on gathering, and shifted his bag over his shoulder as he turned around to go back home. He walked casually through the few pine trees as he made his way north, glancing up at the darkening sky. He figured he’d be back to Bloodhoof Village by the time the sun set below the towering mountains that surrounded the valley.

However, he wasn’t expecting to suddenly catch such a strong whiff of blood. Turning his large head and making his beaded necklaces sway with the movement, he stopped in his hooved tracks and stared with wide eyes at something a good few feet away that he never expected to come across. It was a shirtless goblin on his back, clothes torn and caked in dirt and blood--as he had obviously fallen from the cliff and rolled a long ways down. It seemed as though his arm was broken badly, and his face was turned away towards the rocks, ears and body limp as death. Karuon felt a spell of grief and horror at seeing such a terrible sight on such a nice afternoon… but he had nothing to do with this poor dead goblin, and opted to just leave him where he was. Either someone else would find him, he thought a little guiltily--or the animals nearby would soon have an easy meal.

But just as he was about to move on, his floppy ear perked up at a small sound. A sound of slow, pained breathing. This goblin was alive… and now Karuon knew he couldn’t just leave him here. Even if he was to die soon, at least the tauren druid would be sound in the knowledge that he tried his best to help him. He’d never heard anything very good about the people of his stereotypically untrustworthy race, and he had to admit he didn’t love the idea of even touching the dirty little guy… But that wasn’t enough to dissuade him from kneeling down and carefully picking him up. Surprised at how light he was, he cradled him safely in his arms and tried not to hurt him more than he already was. Red blood from his mouth was smeared over his cheek, as well as from multiple cuts on his face and body. The goblin was all sticky with dust and sweat, too, which made Karuon’s large nostrils wrinkle--but still he was determined to do what he could for the small, injured thing.

The sun was slowly disappearing along the mountain range when Karuon returned to the village, and he hurried to his tent near the outskirts before anyone could see what he was holding. Gingerly laying the unconscious goblin down on a thin rug over the soft, grassy ground, the tauren turned and closed his tent door by fastening the beads on the edges. Then he sat down near his hurt guest with his legs crossed, sighing to himself and mumbling that his home would smell like dirty goblin blood for a while.

In the pale darkness cast through the fabric of his tent, Karuon took a moment to just stare at the goblin. He’d never actually been so up-close with one before--besides walking past the good few that usually bustled around Thunder Bluff for trade, but they never paid him much mind. Their ears were so big, and their green bodies so small and stocky, with such long faces and large hands and feet… the tauren couldn’t help but stare.

But when the injured goblin stirred a little and coughed blood over his stubbly chin, Karuon was suddenly reminded why he brought him here in the first place. He quickly took a rag and a bucket of water from the other side of his tent and cleaned the little guy up, managing to wipe away all the blood and dirt he could. He was still scored with cuts and bruises, especially the large gash on his side--not to mention his broken bones and the little, unhealable tears in his ears--and for a moment Karuon felt bad that he didn’t have a potion or a healer to help him quicker.

As he stared down at the goblin again, the tauren figured he could go to a shaman he knew of in the village. Sure it would be an awkward conversation, this late in the evening… but wasn’t this a matter of life or death he was dealing with--goblin or no? Besides… he couldn’t deny that he liked having an excuse to speak with the shaman he had in mind.

Ruszell’s face twisted and he suddenly smelled all sorts of grass, earth, and leather around him. He was warm but shivering, and his weak ears slowly straightened against the ground. It took him a moment… but when he finally remembered what just happened to him, his eyes flew open and he shot up.

Immediately wracked with the pain of broken ribs and a broken arm, not to mention the dark bruises that were forming all over, he grunted and groaned and fell weakly back to the ground with a soft thud. He choked on blood for a minute before managing to swallow it, gritting his teeth at the splitting headache that made him feel sick. He couldn’t move his arm and the thought made him panic a little… Then with fearful breaths he finally opened his eyes again, and looked around at what looked to be the inside of a tent… or a home… Where was he?

It was just then that Karuon returned and ducked back into the tent, with a promise from the shaman that she would meet him here soon to heal the little stranger. He was surprised to see the goblin awake so soon, and he was also a little proud of himself that he’d managed to help him this far. However, the goblin did not seem grateful; he tried to scramble painfully away on the grass and lifted his hand in defense--snapped arm useless by his side.

“Back off!!” he shouted in goblin with a broken, scratchy voice, baring his sharp teeth stained red. He trembled and breathed hard against his cracked ribs, confused and afraid of this strange place. But just now he noticed how he’d been cleaned up… and when he stared into the tauren’s green eyes, he saw no malice.

Karuon frowned and hurriedly lifted his hands to show he wasn’t armed, staying a good distance from the goblin and still standing.

“Don’t worry…” he said softly in orcish. “You’re safe… You fell a long way, little goblin.”

Ruszell’s hand dropped and his eyes welled up with shocked tears as he sat back on it in the padded-down grass, realizing just how close he was to death--and yet he’d been spared from it. His ears drooped back and he looked up at the stranger with chattering teeth and clouded, pain-filled eyes.

“...Th-thank you…” he answered in goblin, feeling his pride crumble as he admitted his gratitude.

Karuon didn’t know what he said, and now he wasn’t sure this goblin could even speak orcish. He wasn’t expecting him to look so fallen apart, though, and he wondered if he really understood this was a safe place.

“...So, this is the one in need of healing?” came a deep, female voice from behind Karuon, before he could say anything more. When he moved aside, the shaman peered at the frightened, beaten up goblin curiously and entered. She slowly kneeled down a couple of feet from Ruszell, who was having a hard time processing what was happening as he was mostly just wincing and huffing and distracted by the pain. Giving him a calm nod of greeting and a soft “hello,” the light brown tauren woman held her hands up towards him and emitted the only healing spell she currently knew, palms glowing.

Ruszell didn’t know how to respond or feel--but all he knew was that the terrible pain all throughout his body was fading away. His bones slowly mended and he gasped and coughed with freed lungs, shocked but feeling so much better. After a long minute of this, the shaman stopped and put her hands on her lap, sighing tiredly with the mana she’d exerted.

“...How unexpected, that you should be found...” she said with flicking ears, watching with gratification at her own abilities as Ruszell stood up cautiously and dizzily with perked, yet newly-scarred ears. He gazed down at his healed body with shock and relief, moving his arm and flexing his fingers--which just moments ago he couldn’t move at all.

“Thank you, for this,” Karuon said quietly to her.

Ruszell finally looked back up at the two tauren with misty eyes, amazed that they would bother to save him and feeling more lucky than ever.

“...I… I-I don’t got no money…” he confessed in orcish with trembling ears, holding out his empty palms as if to show them. He assumed they expected payment for this, and he worried that since he couldn’t, they might try to take something from him or maybe track him down.

“For saving your life?” Karuon asked with a casual wave of his large hand, glad that the stranger understood. He stepped closer to the two of them with a soft thud of his hooves on the grass. “Leave your healer’s payment to me, goblin. All I ask is that you go to Mulgore’s capital now--and with this, they’ll lend you a ride back to wherever you came from.”

He reached out and dropped a couple of coins into the goblin’s outstretched hands, much to Ruszell’s surprise. As Karuon did so the shaman woman looked at him with a lovely soft expression, and he easily yet somewhat bashfully returned it.

“No… I owe ya my life,” Ruszell finally said with a weak voice, taking their attention away from each other. But he slunk around the edge of the tent towards the exit while still facing them, hand over his rapidly beating heart to show his sincerity.

“I’ll be back one day… To repay you… Believe me…”

And with that, he was gone.

The lucky goblin quickly made his way by foot in the darkness along the clear road to Thunder Bluff. As he walked, he untied his shirt from his waist to button it up again, and pulled his suspenders back up over his shoulders. As he did so, he stared up at the quiet, dim stars with watery eyes and a shaky sigh... He now viewed his rescued life in a completely different, much more humble light.

[renegade-diamonds]

So I decided to do the second part of my little Diamond AU thingy. I’m absolutely ecstatic with the responses I’ve gotten, and let me thank each and every one of you for being such amazing people. :)

LOL I do not own Steven Universe sadly.

Pink dreams of white eyes that night.

Everywhere she looked something reminded her of the mysterious entity that had vexed Blue and Yellow so completely.

She had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, and she drank in every detail she ever heard.

Anything regarding the elusive White Diamond she devoured like a feral hog, half-starved with madness.

So it was no surprise to her when she dreamed of white nearly the entire night.

She had an unbreakable habit of waking with the rising sun. No matter how late she stayed up the previous night, as soon as daylight swept across the sky as did rise her conscious from slumber.

Immediately she noticed something was wrong.

Yellow had climbed several dozen feet up a nearby tree- her face was scrunched up into an unreadable expression, staring down the path they had came- as if she could see miles back.

“What’s happened?”

Yellow took one look down at her before launching herself out of the tree, falling into a kneel at her feet. She righted herself, but not once did she take her eyes off the path, “We need to move. There’s a fire several miles away. It’s not of natural cause.”

Pink’s eyes widened with alarm, “Raiders?”

The golden knight shook her head, simultaneously turning and shoving all of Pinks’ stuff into her pack. The younger diamond noticed Yellow had already packed her own items into her bag, and her armour was perfectly in place.

Yellow Diamond looked ready for war.

“We have to move.”

Within two hours they had travel more than they had in the last two days. In the far distance breaking through the treeline, Pink could see the glimmering blue of the Hope River, but with the roaring fire behind them threatening their every step the river still seemed too far.

Pink looked back at the flames in horror. They were less than a hundred yards behind them now, and Yellow had confirmed something demonic must be influencing them for the fireline to move so quickly.

“Filthy beasts,” Yellow snarled as she looked back at the fire once more- she had a firm grip on Pink’s wrist as they ran at inhuman speeds through the forest. “I’ll send them all back to the shattered abyss!”

Distantly Pink could see what she was talking about. Throughout the fire, inky black figures pranced through the flames, “How come they aren’t getting closer?!”

“They can’t leave the flames,” Yellow pulled her along, practically sprinting as the river came ever closer. “The flames can’t reach the east bank! Once we’re across the bridge the barrier will protect us!”

Pink suddenly was distinctly aware of a whistling sound flying across the sky.

Yellow tensed and lunged to the side, dragging Pink along with her as a fireball blasted their previous location to ash. They landed in a huff off to the side, her golden protector shielding her from the intense heat radiating from the small impact crater.  

“RUN!” Yellow screamed as the fireball unfolded into a large humanoid-looking monster. It was completely covered in ash and charcoal, and Pink nearly lost all hope as it turned and growled menacingly at the two Diamonds.

Sparks erupted from a bronze knife as it cut through the air. The beast howled with pain and rage as it carved through its body, reducing it to a pile of crumbling ash. Yellow’s eyes were wild as she retracted her arm, and Pink dimly realized she’d grabbed her wrist once more and began to run, “NEXT TIME I SAY RUN, YOU RUN!”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Pink kept looking back at the crater. She’d never seen one of those creatures before, but from how her brave knight had reacted- she knew that whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

The bridge was now within reach, situated over a 30 foot gorge the river flowed through. A sigh of relief audibly left Yellow’s lungs as they took a step onto the familiar stone.

Only it was a step too soon.

The only warning Pink had was the telltale whistling before another fireball, much larger than the last one crashed directly in front of them.

The bridge rocked dangerously, and Pink screamed as the section she was standing on caved in.

The iron grip on her wrist stopped her from falling more than a few feet, and she looked up into Yellows’ panicked eyes as she held her from where she lay on the side, “Grab the ledge!”

Pink reached desperately, before a blast of heat hit her face. She screeched in alarm as a shadow dove directly at the other diamond, “BEHIND YOU!”

Yellow turned and used her free arm to block the incoming blow as the creature descended towards her.

The resounding impact shook what reminded of their side of the bridge, and Yellow began to slide as the stone she was laying on began to give way. A loose rock the size of a young child broke free and rolled over the older diamonds’ arm and into the gorge below. The hand holding Pink gave out as a sickening snap sounded from Yellow Diamonds’ mangled arm.

And Pink fell with the image of one of her guardians’ arms trapped inside the jaw of some horrendous nightmare, while the other dangled uselessly as golden blood dripped down her dented armour.

“YELLOW NO!”

The cold hit her like a wave, and the current grasped at her body like a possessive lover. She fought and fought to break the surface, only to immediately be pulled under once more.

Harder and harder she fought, but the river grappled and fought back. Relentless and cruel.

Pinks’ lungs burned for oxygen, but the surface seemed miles above her.

Her feet hit something solid, and with all her might she pushed upwards.

She broke the surface with a gasp. The river had widened, and the bridge distantly collapsed completely into the river hundreds of meters upriver.

She looked desperately for a head of blonde hair, but to no avail.

The river rushed along dangerously, and Pink had only a moment before the current overcame her once more.

Despair flooded her mind in a raging torrent, while guilt ate at her conscious in nagging bites.  

Something sharp smacked at the back of her head as she was pulled along the river’s path, and red flooded the water around her in a hazy cloud. The sun beared down through the water like a judge’s contempt, and Pink had only a single thought before darkness claimed her mind.

“Please,” She prayed to every deity she could think of. “Let Yellow be ok.”

[punalavaflow]

Chronology documents months of lava devastation

Editor’s note: This chronology of the events leading up to and following the 2018 Kilauea eruption in lower Puna was compiled from stories published by the Tribune-Herald.

Tuesday, May 1:

An intrusion of magma into the lower East Rift Zone under Puna sparked a series of minor earthquakes and concerns about an eruption to come. “What we don’t know is if the intrusive event is over, is done and that’s all that’s going to happen or if it’s just paused and might tick back up,” said Janet Babb, Hawaiian Volcano Observatory spokeswoman.

Wednesday, May 2:

Hawaii County officials advise Puna residents to be prepared to evacuate should a new eruption occur on Kilauea’s East Rift Zone. A series of cracks are reported forming on Kahukai Street in Leilani Estates.

Thursday, May 3:

Lava breaches from a vent on Mohala Street in Leilani Estates. All of Leilani Estates and Lanipuna Gardens ordered to evacuate; 30 evacuees reach the Pahoa Community Center. “This is phase one,” says Mayor Harry Kim of the event. Gov. David Ige signs an emergency proclamation and activates the state National Guard.

Friday, May 4:

With six fissures now open in Leilani Estates, fears are exacerbated further by the largest earthquake in the state since 1975. Hawaii Volcanoes National Park closes following the quake. The evacuation continues, and Puna Geothermal Venture is closed. President Trump approves Ige’s request for a presidential disaster declaration. The first two homes are reported destroyed.

Saturday, May 5:

Eight vents have now opened; the most recent, fissure 8, will become the primary driver of the eruptive activity in the coming months. More than 200 evacuees have taken refuge at emergency shelters.

Sunday, May 6:

Twenty-six homes are confirmed destroyed, with 10 lava vents now open. Lava covers nearly 400,000 square feet. Hawaii Volcanoes National Park reopens after the May 4 earthquake.

Monday, May 7:

As two new fissures open in Leilani Estates, cracks appear on Highway 130, threatening to cut off major routes around the eruption. PGV reps promise to transport 60,000 gallons of pentane, explosive liquid fuel, away from the facility. The existing fissures are intermittently active, and all are silent come nightfall. Thirty-five homes are confirmed destroyed.

Tuesday, May 8:

Volunteers work to rescue animals left in Leilani Estates. Two more fissures open, bringing the total to 14.

Wednesday, May 9:

A 15th fissure brings lava into Lanipuna Gardens. Ige signs a second emergency declaration, this one to remove the pentane from PGV. Concerns mount about the possibility of water entering the Kilauea volcanic shaft as the lava lake in the caldera recedes, triggering a steam explosion. An ash plume rises over Kilauea summit after a rock fall.

Thursday, May 10:

No lava emerges from the rifts. Cracks on Highway 130 continue to spread, making traversal nearly impossible. A Pahoa man is charged for alleged burglary within the evacuation zone. The pentane is removed from PGV. HVO notes terrain deflation at Kilauea summit as the lava lake recedes.

Friday, May 11:

Hawaii Volcanoes National Park closes; it will not reopen for four months.

Saturday, May 12:

Two more fissures open in Lanipuna Gardens; the second, fissure 17, will be the most active fissure for the next several days. Cracks form on Highway 132 as Civil Defense advises Kapoho residents to plan for evacuation.

Sunday, May 13:

Fissure 18 opens. “I guess the best way to describe it is as if I was standing next to a (Boeing) 747 that is full-throttle,” said Puna resident Mark Clawson. “That kind of comes and goes, and is punctuated by blasts — absolutely earth-shaking and deafening blasts — hurling lava bombs of up to a hundred pounds or more hundreds of feet in the area.”

Monday, May 14:

The Norwegian Cruise liner Pride of America cancels trips to the Big Island, a major blow to the island’s tourist industry, already struggling with apprehensive visitors. As lava approaches Highway 132, contingency plans are considered for alternate escape routes. A 19th fissure opens.

Tuesday, May 15:

New fissures emerge as an ash plume rises 12,000 feet over Kilauea summit. HVO geologists say the plume was caused by either water intrusion into the volcanic shaft or rocks falling into the receding lava lake. The County begins work on paving Government Beach Road to provide an alternative escape route from Kapoho. Metal plates are placed across cracks on Highway 130.

Wednesday, May 16:

Cracks form on Highway 11 outside the national park after a series of earthquakes at the summit. More than two dozen quakes occur within 24 hours.

Thursday, May 17:

A new fissure opens in Leilani Estates and is designated fissure 21 after previous fissures are reclassified as single eruption sites. Fissure 22 opens shortly thereafter. Another ash plume rises above Kilauea, reaching 30,000 feet. Ash reaches Pahala and other downwind communities, whose quality of life worsens as volcanic fumes increase.

Friday, May 18:

Lava from fissure 20 cuts off Pohoiki Road, requiring four residents to be airlifted to safety. HVO geologists warn that lava samples show a mix of older magma from a 1955 eruption and newer magma; while the less fluid older magma has dominated the early eruption, the newer magma will be hotter, more fluid and faster. Forty structures are confirmed destroyed. Fissure 23 opens near the site of the first fissure.

Saturday, May 19:

A river of lava, flowing as fast as 300 yards an hour, rushes toward Highway 137 from fissure 20, crossing the highway later that night. Kapoho resident Darryl Clinton, while helping to put out fires in Pahoa, is struck by a “lava bomb” that shatters his leg. Yet another summit explosion triggers an ash plume over Kilauea; geologists note that seismic activity begins to build after each explosion, suggesting the explosions may be a regular occurrence.

Sunday, May 20:

Lava flows into the ocean after having crossed Highway 137 between Pohoiki and Kalapana. The U.S. Coast Guard enforces a 300-meter “safety zone” surrounding the ocean entry, and residents are warned about the dangers of “laze,” a noxious gas containing steam, hydrochloric acid and small particles of volcanic glass.

Monday, May 21:

Lava approaches PGV, leading to redoubled efforts to shut down the last active wells at the facility, a process that involves flooding them with cold water and sealing them with metal caps. Another explosion rocks Kilauea summit.

Tuesday, May 22:

Ten out of 11 PGV wells are successfully quenched. U.S. Geological Survey volcanologists reveal Kilauea is releasing about 15,000 tons of sulfur dioxide per day. HVNP and the county discuss reopening the long-closed Chain of Craters Road as an emergency evacuation route should Highway 130 be fatally compromised.

Wednesday, May 23:

Active fissures now reach between 150 and 200 feet high. Steam and heat reaching 130 degrees rising from the plates on Highway 130 stoke fears that the sole access road to Kalapana will be severed by lava.

Thursday, May 24:

Little changes in the state of the eruption. HVO geologists say the lower East Rift Zone is no longer being deformed by the lava intrusion.

Friday, May 25:

Civil Defense confirms 82 destroyed structures since May 3. The floor Halema‘uma‘u Crater has now dropped by 1.3 meters since the beginning of the eruption. One to two steam explosions occur at the summit each day. The Pride of America resumes service to Kona, although not to Hilo. Its cancellations alone are estimated to cost the county $3 million.

Saturday, May 26:

Lava crosses Pohoiki Road at another point, casting more doubt about the continued viability of Highway 132, while lava also enters PGV property.

Sunday, May 27:

Two PGV wells are covered by lava from fissures 21 and 7, by now the most active of the vents. The seals on the wells hold. A new fissure, fissure 24, opens in Leilani Estates.

Monday, May 28:

Fissure 8 reactivates, sending a stream of lava through Leilani Estates that destroys 10 homes. “Kind of disturbingly, some people just refused to leave,” said Civil Defense Administrator Talmadge Magno. The national park has been closed for 18 days straight, its longest closure in history.

Tuesday, May 29:

A lava flow from fissure 8 severs Highway 132, leaving only Government Beach Road as an egress for communities east of the flow. National park staff confirm damage to the park’s water system after weeks of repeated earthquakes. Vog in Kona reaches “unhealthy” levels. Three people, a tourist couple and a Pahoa resident, are cited for bypassing security checkpoints near the lava.

Wednesday, May 30:

Construction work begins on clearing Chain of Craters Road for traffic as lava gradually moves ever closer to the “Four Corners,” the intersection of Highways 132, 137 and Government Beach Road. A Leilani Estates man appears in a viral video to shoot a gun at a group of people observing the eruption within the Leilani subdivision and is arrested. The Pride of America’s first visit to Kona since resuming service is cancelled due to poor air quality.

Thursday, May 31:

Leilani Estates residents who remain in the eastern half of the subdivision are given an ultimatum: Leave the subdivision or possibly face arrest. Fissure 8, meanwhile, spews lava 260 feet into the air.

Friday, June 1:

Lava advances to half a mile from Four Corners. Kapoho residents are ordered to evacuate as a river of lava moving 600 meters an hour approaches. Fissure 8 is now the only vent still active.

Saturday, June 2:

Four Corners is covered by the fissure 8 flow, isolating Kapoho and Vacationland. Green Lake, a small lake nearby, is completely destroyed by the flow. Norwegian Cruise Lines once again cancels its service to the Big Island.

Sunday, June 3:

Residents look on as the lava continues its inexorable push toward Kapoho. Three dozen parcels of land are destroyed, although a tally of the number of structures destroyed is unknown. A 5.5 magnitude earthquake rocks the summit of Kilauea, one of 500 to occur this day alone.

Monday, June 4:

Lava burns through Kapoho, entering the sea and obliterating Kapoho Bay. “It was the marine life that was there,” lamented resident Kyumi Rutledge. “We’ve been out and swam with sea turtles, we swam with manta ray, we saw beautiful eels. Just things that aren’t going to be there any more. It’s a nice thing gone.” Meanwhile, at the summit, the Jaggar Museum is found to have sustained notable cracks after the previous day’s earthquake.

Tuesday, June 5:

The official count of destroyed homes reaches 117, although it is now clear that the vast majority of the approximately 500 homes in Kapoho Beach Lots and Vacationland are destroyed. Popular tourist destinations Champagne Ponds and the Kapoho Tide Pools also are buried by lava. The June 3 quake is revealed by HVO geologists to not have been a traditional quake, but a pressure explosion caused by the blocked volcanic shaft.

Wednesday, June 6:

“Every house was lost (in Vacationland),” Mayor Harry Kim said. “That’s the unimaginable thing. All this happened in three days, from no threat to 100 percent or less. And that’s just mind-boggling.”

Thursday, June 7:

Hope Services of Hawaii and other organizations work to build temporary housing for eruption evacuees at Pahoa Sacred Heart Church. Fissure 8 remains active, with its lava flow confined within a channel leading to the ocean. The crater floor at Kilauea summit has dropped between 25 and 35 feet. The pressure explosions at the summit appear to occur regularly at 36-hour intervals.

Friday, June 8:

The lava flow from fissure 8 is estimated to cover nine square miles, including the new delta where Kapoho Bay used to be. Janet Snyder, spokesman for Mayor Kim, said the county has partially shifted to a “recovery phase.” The official count of destroyed homes sits at 130, although it is widely understood that more than 600 have been lost after the destruction of Kapoho.

Saturday, June 9:

The national park has now been closed for 30 days, which is taking a toll on the tourist-centered economy of neighboring Volcano village.

Monday, June 11:

The Federal Emergency Management Agency begins its assessment of the destruction.

Wednesday, June 13:

Gov. Ige signs a request for FEMA assistance for evacuees. That letter estimates 455 homes were destroyed in the eruption, $37 million in property damage, and a $14 million loss for the 28 farmers whose operations were halted by the eruption.

Thursday, June 14:

Ige’s request is approved, and FEMA opens its Disaster Recovery Center at Keaau High School.

Saturday, June 16:

Mayor Kim suffers a sixth heart attack after a bout of pneumonia.

Monday, June 18:

Hawaii County Civil Defense confirms 533 homes have been destroyed.

Tuesday, June 19:

The county bandies ideas about a possible public viewing area for the lava river from fissure 8, but no plans are definite. No lava viewing area will be completed during the eruption.

Wednesday, June 20:

The eruption has now produced 145 million cubic meters of lava, more than the last two eruptions combined. The collapse of Halema‘uma‘u Crater has now exceeded 250 million cubic meters.

Thursday, June 21:

The USGS downgrades its alert level for Mauna Loa from “advisory” to “normal.” HVO had set the advisory status three years before in light of increased seismic activity, which has subsided.

Friday, June 22:

National park representatives are doubtful that Jaggar Museum will ever be usable again, as the expanding Halema‘uma‘u Crater swallows crater rim infrastructure. Artifacts have been removed from the deteriorating museum. The county confirms 614 homes destroyed.

Saturday, June 23:

Civil Defense updates the count to 637 destroyed homes.

Monday, June 25:

The lava flow from fissure 8 has shifted southward, and now threatens to burn through Alahanui Park. FEMA reports that 1,442 people have availed themselves of the Disaster Recovery Center. Homes confirmed destroyed: 657.

Thursday, June 28:

The national park allows press into the park for the first time since it closed on May 11. The crater is expanding by more than 10 million cubic meters each day.

Friday, June 29:

The total of destroyed homes is now 668. FEMA confirms it has approved $1.2 million in financial assistance to those affected by the eruption, while the U.S. Small Business Administration has approved nearly $830,000 in loans.

Saturday, June 30:

Twenty small shelters for evacuees are dedicated and opened at Sacred Heart Church in Pahoa.

Tuesday, July 3:

Highway 130 and a portion of Highway 137 are reopened to all traffic. The Hawaii National Guard deactivates its lava task force.

Thursday, July 5:

Only four homes remain in Kapoho Beach Lots. FEMA and the SBA have approved $2.1 million and $5.5 million in aid respectively. A sinkhole opens on Highway 11 due to incessant earthquakes at Kilauea.

Sunday, July 8:

The Tribune-Herald publishes its first front page without lava-related coverage since the beginning of the eruption. The headline of the sole related article effectively sums up the events of the day: “No significant change in volcanic activity.”

Monday, July 9:

The official tally of destroyed homes surpasses 700. “That 700 number isn’t all of it,” Kim said. “It doesn’t show what happened to everyone’s hopes and dreams.”

Tuesday, July 10:

Kim advocates against high-density rebuilding in Lava Zones 1 and 2. The two evacuee shelters still house 219 people.

Wednesday, July 11:

Three more homes in Leilani Estates are destroyed by fissure 8, while an overflow of the lava channel sends lava toward Kua O Ka La Public Charter School, destroying it and also Ahalanui Beach Park. Isaac Hale is the only remaining beach park within the eruption zone, isolated between two flows.

Friday, July 13:

A minuscule island is formed at the northernmost edge of the fissure 8 flow’s ocean entry, likely by a naturally occurring dome forming in the underwater lava flow. The official tally of destroyed homes sits at 706.

Monday, July 16:

A lava tour boat, owned and operated by Shane Turpin, is struck by a “lava bomb” near the Kapoho lava ocean entry. The boat had reportedly navigated to within 250 yards of the entry before an explosion engulfed the boat. “It was immense,” Turpin said. “I had no idea. We didn’t see it.” Twenty-three people are injured, including one woman with a broken femur.

Tuesday, July 17:

Lava inches closer to Isaac Hale Beach Park and the Pohoiki boat ramp, the only boat ramp serving Puna. The lava entry is now 750 meters from the boat ramp. The U.S. House of Representatives approves $4.8 million in federal funds to support a new office for HVO after their previous office at Kilauea summit was abandoned.

Thursday, July 19:

Lava is now 0.3 miles away from Isaac Hale Beach Park. Another sinkhole is formed on Highway 11 following another summit collapse event.

Monday, July 23:

Road crews monitor Highway 11 for greater structural damage to the roadway caused by repeated earthquakes and ground deformation. Lava has not moved demonstrably closer to Isaac Hale for days.

Tuesday, July 24:

The U.S. Senate passes legislation instructing the Department of the Interior to evaluate damage caused by the eruption to the island’s federal infrastructure and visitor industry.

Thursday, July 26:

The sharp decline in Big Island tourism caused by the eruption causes Jack’s Tours, a Hilo-based tour company that had been open for more than 50 years, to announce its closure at the end of the month.

Friday, July 27:

Increased gas emissions are detected from the cracks in Highway 130. The official tally of destroyed homes is now 716.

Monday, July 30:

A brush fire caused by lava burns another four homes near Kapoho.

Tuesday, July 31:

The state and county mull options for circumventing Highway 11 near the national park as the road becomes more degraded.

Thursday, August 2:

The tiny island formed by the lava is now no longer an island, but is now connected to the Big Island by an isthmus of lava.

Friday, August 3:

Work begins on an alternate route around the worst-affected part of Highway 11. Gov. Ige signs another emergency proclamation for the eruption on its three-month anniversary.

Saturday, August 4:

HVO notes that fissure 8’s lava output has decreased, although the significance of this has yet to be determined.

Sunday, August 5:

Not only has the lava output decreased, but the number of summit earthquakes have as well. Where there were once 25 to 35 earthquakes an hour, now less than five an hour is more typical. But “the hazard has not gone away,” says HVO scientist-in-charge Tina Neal.

Monday, August 6:

Neal says it is too early to tell whether the declining activity at fissure 8 indicates the eruption is over, but the fissure’s output has been reduced to weak bubbling within its cinder cone.

Tuesday, August 7:

Mayor Kim announces plans to request $550 million for disaster recovery from the state Legislature.

Thursday, August 9:

The Highway 11 detour project stalls as the county waits to see what will happen next. PGV reveals in an earnings call that reopening the plant would take at least 18 months.

Friday, August 10:

Sulfur dioxide levels on Kilauea are the lowest they’ve been in a decade.

Saturday, August 11:

A black sandbar begins to form around the Pohoiki boat ramp. The ramp is now unusable, but is largely undamaged.

Tuesday, August 14:

Kim’s disaster recovery plan is unveiled, now with a $680 million price tag.

Friday, August 17:

The national park discusses options for reopening after more than 100 days of closure, but damage throughout the park is too extensive to be repaired all at once. Repairing the water system alone would cost $40 million.

Wednesday, August 29:

The emergency evacuation shelter in Pahoa announces it will close in September. A flight over fissure 8 reveals no lava within the fissure. HVO representatives discuss when the eruption can be considered “over.”

Thursday, August 30:

The disaster recovery plan budget has now ballooned to $800 million.

Friday, August 31:

The national park is on schedule to reopen in a limited capacity on Sept. 22 after 135 days of closure.

Tuesday, September 4:

Sulfur dioxide levels from Kilauea now at their lowest in 11 years.

Wednesday, September 5:

It is now considered highly unlikely that Jaggar Museum will be usable again after damage assessments within the national park.

Thursday, September 6:

The county announces plans to reopen Isaac Hale Beach Park, a scheme that includes digging through the cooled lava flow covering Highway 137.

Saturday, September 8:

The mandatory evacuation zone in Leilani Estates is lifted, allowing residents to return to their homes. Meanwhile, the MacKenzie State Recreation Area reopens as well, allowing hikers to walk across the lava flow to Pohoiki and Isaac Hale.

Monday, September 17:

The Pahoa emergency shelter closes. At its peak, 500 people had used the two shelters in Pahoa and Keaau at once. “Since we’ve been here, we’ve seen three births, two deaths, people doing drugs and people completely getting off drugs. We’ve seen houseless people become housed, we’ve seen housed people become homeless. We’ve seen it all,” said Red Cross sheltering lead Paul Klink.

Saturday, September 22:

The national park reopens, with nearly 3,000 people visiting to take in the changes to the landscape. Although lava is gone from Halema‘uma‘u crater, it has more than doubled in size since the eruption began. “We’re elated, we’re ecstatic, we’re all the E’s,” said spokeswoman Jessica Ferracane.

Monday, October 1:

Power has been restored to the majority of active Leilani Estates customers.

Tuesday, October 2:

Mayor Kim says that any project to remove lava from Highway 137 will have to wait until six months have passed since the disappearance of lava from the lower East Rift Zone. Instead, a temporary measure involving a graded path across the top of the flow is possible.

Friday, October 5:

HVO lowers its alert level for Kilauea from “watch” to “advisory.” Surface lava has not been seen for 30 days. This is the first time since 1986 that there has been no surface activity for more than 30 days. HVO says resumption of the eruption in lower Puna is “unlikely in the near-term.” from Hawaii News – Hawaii Tribune-Herald http://bit.ly/2VMDwYf

[newstfionline]

After Irma, Florida prepares for days—and maybe weeks—without power

By Patricia Sullivan, Mark Berman and Katie Zezima, Washington Post, September 13, 2017

CAPE CORAL, Fla.--Millions of Floridians grappled with the aftermath of Hurricane Irma on Wednesday, confronting a sweltering reality: More than 40 percent of Florida still lacked electricity, and for some of them, the lights might not come back on for days or even weeks.

“We understand what it means to be in the dark,” said Robert Gould, vice president and chief communications officer for Florida Power and Light (FPL), the state’s largest utility. “We understand what it means to be hot and without air conditioning. We will be restoring power day and night.”

But, he acknowledged: “This is going to be a very uncomfortable time.”

Across the nation’s third most-populous state, that discomfort played out in homes that were silent without the usual thrum of perpetual air-conditioning. It meant refrigerators were unable to cool milk, laundry machines were unable to clean clothes and, for the particularly young and old, potential danger in a state where the temperatures can range from warm to stifling.

Even for those who had power, some also were struggling to maintain cellphone service or Internet access, sending Floridians into tree-riddled streets in an effort to spot a few precious bars of signal to contact loved ones.

“It’s a mess, a real mess. The biggest issue is power,” said Bill Barnett, mayor of Naples, on Florida’s Gulf Coast. “We just need power. It’s 92 degrees and the sun is out and it’s smoking out there.”

Utility companies made progress as they undertook a massive recovery effort, restoring power to some. At its peak, the Department of Homeland Security said about 15 million Floridians--an astonishing three out of four state residents--lacked power.

By early Wednesday, state officials gradually lowered the number of customers without power, dropping it to about 4.4 million from 6.5 million on Monday. Because each power company account can represent multiple people, the sheer number of residents without electricity was massive: Going by the Homeland Security estimates, at one point Irma had knocked out power to one out of every 22 Americans.

It would take some time before all of them had electricity again. Duke Energy Florida said it would restore power to most customers by Sunday, a week after Irma made its first landfall in Florida. Some harder-hit areas could take longer due to the rebuilding effort.

Gould said that FPL, which powers about half of the state, expected customers on Florida’s East Coast to have power back by the end of the weekend. People in western Florida, closer to Irma’s path, should have it back by Sept. 22. That estimate does not include places with severe flooding or tornado damage, he said, and those areas could also face a longer wait to be able to switch on the lights.

Floridians reacted to the outages eclectically. Some welcomed the absence of perpetual air-conditioners. Others flocked to their local malls for a respite from the heat.

“There’s no power at home, so we might as well just stay here and stay cool,” Amanda Brack, who was with her son, Gavin, said while walking through a Brookstone at the Galleria shopping mall in Fort Lauderdale.

Blake Deerhog had walked to the mall from his powerless and steamy apartment in nearby Victoria Park, trekking some 20 minutes in the stifling heat and humidity after he Googled and learned it would be open.

“This is definitely better than being back at my apartment,” he said, adding that he planned to spend the afternoon there.

The outages also caused rising alarm in some places. Here in Cape Coral, an assisted care facility for patients with dementia and memory impairment that sheltered in place during the storm went without power for three days, as elderly patients suffered in the rising heat.

The southwest Florida facility, Cape Coral Shores, had 20 patients stay during the storm as part of an agreement with state and local officials because the emergency shelters it would normally use were both evacuated as Irma approached. Power at the facility went out, and it stayed out, even as homes and businesses all around it saw their lights come back on.

As the indoor temperature climbed to the mid-80s Wednesday morning, humidity made the hard-surfaced floors slick with condensation. Patients gathered in a small day room to catch a slight breeze from screened windows. A handful of small fans powered by a borrowed generator were all that kept the situation from devolving into a medical emergency, said Dan Nelson, Cape Coral Shores’ chief operating officer.

“People here are fragile,” Nelson said, adding that air-conditioning in such facilities is a medical necessity. “This is not just about comfort, it’s about safety. We have magnet door locks that don’t work, fire suppression equipment whose batteries have run out, assisted bed lifts that don’t work. And the temperatures today and tomorrow are headed back to the mid-90s.”

A state emergency official said Wednesday afternoon he had found a large generator and 50 gallons of gas for the facility, but there was no need: The power came back on.

While the Sunshine State was the hardest hit by the outages, they extended to the other states Irma raked as it headed north. Hundreds of thousands lost power in the Carolinas, Alabama and Georgia, where at one point 800,000 were experiencing outages on Tuesday, though that number declined during the day.

The deteriorating storm once known as Hurricane Irma--classified Tuesday as a post-tropical cyclone--grazed onward through the Mississippi Valley, losing essentially all of its prior strength but still drenching some areas with rainfall.

Across the southeast, even as people acknowledged that they had dodged the worst possible hit from Irma, they were still left to contend with destroyed homes, flooded cities, swollen rivers, canceled flights and debris in the streets.

The city of Jacksonville, Fla., remained flooded after the St. Johns River overflowed so severely the day before that it forced residents from their homes. Charleston, S.C., city officials said the intense flooding there on Monday closed more than 111 roads, most of which had reopened Tuesday.

In Key West, it remained unclear when power, cellphone service or supplies would be available again.

“What you have on hand is rationed to make sure you can get through,” said Todd Palenchar, 48, noting that his supplies of food and water are designed to last for a week. “You don’t know how long it’s going to be.”

Palenchar said he is used to camping and roughing it, but his main concern right now is his property.

“I’ve already posted signs where I’m at, ‘Looters will be shot, no questions asked,’” he said as he pulled up his shirt to reveal a .380 caliber pistol.

As Irma tore through the Caribbean and approached the Keys last week, authorities had ordered millions in Florida to evacuate and, in some cases, ordered them to hit the road again as the storm’s path wobbled. On Tuesday, officials slowly began letting those people return home.

In Monroe County, which includes the Florida Keys, and other places that let residents back, officials warned that many areas are still without power, cellphone reception is questionable and most gas stations remain shut.

Miami-Dade Mayor Carlos Gimenez said about half of the county’s traffic signals were out. Broward County Mayor Barbara Sharief said the number was closer to 45 percent of traffic signals there. Across the state, the explanations for the outages were visible alongside the road.

“It’s a lot of trees and power lines and snapped poles,” said Kate Albers, a spokeswoman for Collier County, which stretches across southwestern Florida and includes Marco Island, where Irma made her second landfall.

“I can tell you from driving around you see lines down all over the place,” Albers said. “You see trees thrown through power lines and you’ll see an occasional pole.”

The high number of outages across Florida were due largely to the storm’s massive size, said Ted Kury, director of energy studies for the Public Utility Research Center at the University of Florida.

“For a significant period of time, the entire state was under a hurricane warning,” Kury said. “Normally it comes through, sometimes it comes through fast and sometimes it comes through slowly. But this one hit pretty much everybody.”

Kury was among those who did not lose power but did lose Internet, cable and cellphone service, so he and his wife had to walk to the next development before his wife got enough signal to text their oldest son and her parents.

Florida utility companies embarked upon a massive response effort to get the lights back on. Gould, the spokesman for FPL, said the company had dispatched 20,000 workers to work day and night restoring power, first to critical care infrastructure--like hospitals and 911 systems--and then to feeders that send juice to the most customers. Finally, they get to individual neighborhoods.

In St. Petersburg, where gas-powered generators had growled through the night, residents lit their way with battery-powered lanterns, flashlights and tea lights.

“We’ve run out of power before,” said Jeanne Isacco, 71, reaching for her walker to stand and punctuate her point. “Why do you think we live here? Excuse me! We know it’s hot.”

[newstfionline]

More than 12 million without power in Florida as Hurricane Irma’s effects linger

By Joel Achenbach, Katie Zezima, Mark Berman and William Wan, Washington Post, September 11, 2017

MIAMI--As Hurricane Irma dissipated into a tropical storm on Monday, Florida’s residents emerged to streets littered with debris and downed trees while nearly two-thirds of the state was left without electricity.

The once-powerful storm left trailer homes sliced open like ripe melons, boats tossed upside down on roadways and centuries-old trees strewn across power lines. As it trailed off on Monday, Irma’s rains caused floodwaters to rise from Jacksonville, Fla., to Charleston, S.C., continuing to impact a massive area of the American southeast.

But it could have been much worse.

That was the grateful mantra on the lips of many on Monday, even as an estimated 12 million Floridians prepared for a dark night without air conditioning in the muggy post-storm swelter. Though there was significant property damage in the Florida Keys and in some parts of southwest Florida, officials said it was remarkable that so far they are investigating just a small number of fatalities that came as the storm made landfall. It was unclear how many were directly related to the storm.

The lack of electricity across most of South Florida was the most pressing and crippling problem. Millions could remain in the dark for days or even weeks as utility companies struggle to navigate impassable roads and floodwaters to slowly restore power.

But in the face of cataclysmic warnings and worries--including a mass exodus from Florida’s most-populous area--Irma largely spared many of the major cities predicted to be in its path. Some, including Tampa and Orlando, escaped relatively unscathed. Others, such as Jacksonville, experienced unlikely--and record-breaking--effects.

Waters in Jacksonville, in the state’s far northeast, sent residents scrambling to the top floors of their houses Monday morning. The St. Johns River, which cuts through the city, overflowed its banks, flooding bridges and streets.

Rescuers used boats, water scooters and even surfboards to get to residents surprised by the rising waters, said Kimberly Morgan, a spokeswoman for the Clay County emergency center. “You have to get creative in a situation like this,” she said.

Morgan said that evacuation shelters, which already held 700 people before Monday, we’re expected to fill up even more. “We don’t think we’re going to see the end of this until Friday,” she said.

Authorities warned that it was not yet safe for evacuated residents to return to their homes in many areas of Florida, the threat of floods still looming as rivers swell with rainwater and storm surges continue to send rising ocean waters into towns, especially in northern Florida. And state officials warned that another approaching storm, Hurricane Jose, is pushing still more water toward the northern part of the state.

Gov. Rick Scott (R) called the flooding in Jacksonville “historic”--officials said the city could end up with four feet of standing water--and he warned the many residents still stuck in the dark that “it’s going to take us a long time to get the power back up.”

Irma’s thrashing winds cut power to two-thirds of all power company customers in Florida, totaling more than 6.5 million customer accounts. Because each account often represents more than one person, the overall number may be historic, said Eric Silagy, president and chief executive of Florida Power and Light (FPL), the state’s largest utility, which supplies power to about half of Florida. Silagy said Monday that as many as 9 million people were affected by his company’s outages.

Shawna Berger, a spokeswoman for Duke Energy, said 1.2 million of its 1.8 million customers were without power in Florida and noted that if you multiply that number by 2.5--per the latest census data, she said--that shows that 3 million people were affected.

“We’ve never had that many outages,” Silagy said. “I don’t think any utility in the country has.”

The outages pose a particular issue in Florida, where temperatures in Miami and Tampa are forecast to get into the 90s this week. Silagy warned that some people “could be out of power for weeks,” particularly if crews need to rebuild parts of the sprawling electrical system. The utility has sent out 19,500 workers across Florida to restore power and is trying to secure more crews from out of state.

Because of the storm’s size, FPL crews were not able to start restoration efforts until late Sunday night, Silagy said. And they are still not able to move across northern Florida, he said, with debris and flooding impeding their way.

The blackouts extended to surrounding states, with more than 146,000 power outages in South Carolina and outages trending upward in Georgia on Monday night as the remnants of Irma passed through.

As a testament to Florida’s fortune, Caribbean countries preceding it on Irma’s path continued to struggle to recover Monday long after the storm had passed. In Cuba, the hurricane’s scissoring winds and strafing rain had torn apart buildings and roofs and sent flooding along the northern coast. The storm ravaged the Virgin Islands, devastated Barbuda and pummeled other islands on its path.

Irma is expected to keep losing force as it continues inland, and forecasters say it should be a tropical depression by Tuesday afternoon. But the storm maintained its remarkable reach, with tropical-storm-force winds reaching more than 400 miles.

As the storm moved inland Monday, it continued pouring torrential rain onto Georgia, the Carolinas and Alabama, where President Trump declared a state of emergency on Monday night.

In Atlanta, Delta Air Lines canceled about 800 flights from its hub operations Monday in anticipation of “strong crosswinds,” which could reverberate through the air travel system nationwide. Thousands of flights already have been halted due to the storm. Atlanta, hundreds of miles from any coast and more than 600 miles north of the place where Irma first hit the mainland, was placed under its first tropical-storm warning.

As the skies began to clear, hordes of evacuees inland began making plans to return home--a mass migration that had Florida officials pleading for patience and more time.

Nearly 6 million people were told to evacuate ahead of Irma, in what is believed to be the largest evacuation in American history.

Many roads remained blocked by heavy trees, authorities warned. Fuel also was a concern, with some seaports closed and tanker trucks unable to refuel gas stations along the homeward path of many residents.

“Wait for direction from local officials before returning to evacuated areas,” Scott told evacuees in a tweet.

Driving in many cities remained extremely hazardous--an exercise in vigilance due to downed trees and the ubiquitous palm fronds that lurked in wait like alligators on the street. In Miami, some residents expressed frustration about the evacuations, which in many cases ultimately weren’t necessary.

“Everyone got stirred up, and they were told to leave,” said Sara Edelman, 29, a biologist walking along 104th Street with her mother, Philis Edelman, 60, an officer worker. “And now there’s no one to clean the trees up.”

Dan Zumpano, 44, who lives nearby, said he believes authorities began evacuations “way too early” in an abundance of caution, driving people from places that ultimately weren’t seriously impacted by the storm into areas that were: “I thought it was the right thing to do, but I think they sent a lot of people right into the core of the hurricane.”

That was a familiar story: People who evacuated from Miami to Tampa. And then, in some cases, from Tampa to Orlando. The storm followed many of them the entire time. “Every day you saw the models changing,” Zumpano said.

But all along Miami’s streets, signs also remained of the hurricane’s fury and the tragic possibilities that might have been.

Sailboats on Miami’s Coconut Grove marina were flipped over. Million-dollar yachts were half submerged in the bay. Once-idyllic parks looked like desolate war zones. Large trees toppled over, roots dangling in the air.

Resident Paul Plante came to the marina to check on his home and boat, which he had docked indoors. His boat was fine, and he and his sister looked in disbelief at the submerged boats in the bay that weren’t so lucky.

“You have to take nine different roads to get here now, but everything was okay,” he said. “The storm surge could have been so much worse. We’re lucky.”