#the question is did he just live in the bay area or did he actually attend uc berkeley for any reason

[remyfire]

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

I promised you some lions! Let's talk about manes, males, and management.

This is Tandie, the current male lion at the Woodland Park Zoo.

Notice anything odd about him? He's got one of those hilarious awkward teenager manes. Except... this cat is nine years old.

I was, of course, immediately curious.

Manes serve a lot of purposes for male lions, including being an indicator of health and fitness - it's actually a sexually selected trait and a social signal. Mane texture / hair quality / length is dependent on nutrition and the body having energy to grow (and carry around!) that much hair! The color is also a signal: males with darker manes have been found to have higher testosterone levels.

In one research report, wild males were much more likely to avoid a lion decoy when it had a longer or darker mane - but the girls really loved a dark mane. It's thought this is because a long, dark mane is an indicator of mate quality. Males with longer, darker manes have higher testosterone and were pretty healthy: meaning they had more energy for fighting, had a better chance of recovering if they got injured, and generally had a higher rate of offspring survival. Manes matter!

So, back to Tandie. He was actually born at the Woodland Park Zoo in 2014 alongside two brothers, to dad Xerxes and mother Adia.

This was Xerxes (rip).

Obviously, a very large, dark, lush mane on Xerxes here. So where did these blond muttonchops come from on his son?

I asked the zoo docents and got an answer that didn't make a lot of sense. They told me that after the three cubs grew into adolescents, they were moved to the Oakland Zoo together. But living together suppressed his testosterone, and he never grew a mane.

Hmmmm.

Here's a photo from 2016, when the brothers debuted at Oakland. They're a year and a half old in this photo.

(Photo Credit: Oakland Zoo)

And here's from an announcement for their third birthday.

(Photo credit: Oakland Zoo)

Okay, so these dudes obviously all were growing manes as of 2017. I think Tandie is the one on the left in the first photo, and laying down in the middle on the second. What happened?

I was just in the Bay Area for a zoo road trip, of course I went to Oakland and tracked down a docent to ask some questions.

It turns out that shortly after the brothers turned three, they started acting like adult male lions: they started scuffling regularly. It's a normal social thing for male lions to live in groups, called coalitions, but according to my lion experts there's generally a baseline level of some social jostling within them. It wasn't quite clear from what the docent said if they couldn't manage the boys together, or if they just wanted to avoid the scratches and small wounds that result from normal lion behavior. Regardless, they put all three of the boys on testosterone blockers in order to be able to keep them together as a social group.

Now, I don't know a lot about the use of hormone alteration as a form of captive animal management, except in the case of birth control. I don't think it's something that's unethical - there was just a webinar on it that I saw go by - but I don't think it's commonly done with big cats. Lions have kind of complicated reproductive cycles, and for instance, we've been learning that female lions can take much longer to come into estrus again than expected after coming off hormonal birth control.

In males, testosterone blockers (or being neutered) means they lose their manes. This is why a lot of rescues will do a vasectomy on their males instead of a neuter - it allows them to keep their mane and the social signals that accompany it.

Tandie returned home to Woodland Park Zoo after Xerxes passed in early 2022, and the docent told me all of the lions had been off their blockers "for while." I'd guess those things happened around the same time, since bringing the trio down to a duo at Oakland would reduce some of the social tensions.

Hormones are such interesting things, though. One of Tandie's brothers has a full mane again, and the other is still totally mane-less.

As for Tandie, his mane is growing back in, and it looks like he might rival his dad for length and coloration.

He started here, in February:

Yesterday:

What a difference four months (and maybe proximity to a girl) makes!

[russellsppttemplates]

Hiii, would be comfortable with writing something about the reader not having a good relationship with her parents but loves her in laws and they are basically like her parents, thank you

Note: I have this plotline for Pierre, there are other pieces you can read as well about this too if you haven't read yet and want to read more 🤍

Cw: reader has a bad relationship with her family/has cut ties with her family

"Have you decided what you want to have in the tables?", Pascale asked as she brewed some tea for the two of you, watching Jean and Pierre working on the grill outside.

"Not really, we've seen a few arrangements, and we know what we don't like - especially those really big things where you kind of can't see the person in front of you", you scrunched up your face and she giggled, "it's not the priority on our list, but we're going through all of it in due time", you said, "It has been hard not having anyone else to discuss it with - Pierre only cares so much about how it all looks", you shrugged before composing yourself, "don't get me wrong, he's been very involved, he's been to all of the meetings with the wedding planner and the only thing he isn't involved in is the dress try-on for obvious reasons".

"No need to be so flustered, dear", your soon to be mother in-law soothed your worries quickly, "it's nice to know he's been helping, I knew he would after he asked me a couple of questions", she winked, "you never have to worry about asking for help or opinions - I'd love to to and pick the dress with you if you'd like me to be there", she offered, not wanting to step on any toes.

"I'm glad you're in my life", you spoke up, wiping the stray tear that fell on your cheek. All of the day to day jokes about mothers in-law you grew up hearing and laughing about were surely not written about the lady in you had in front of you.

"Chérie, we're the lucky ones to have you in our lives - there's no one else I'd love to be with Pierre", Pascale smiled, hugging you and rubbing your back gently.

.

"I like this one," Anna said, looking at the dress you were wearing. The look on your face however didn't match her excitment, "It's not it, is it?", Alexandra offered as you twirled around, not like the naked back detail.

You shook your head and walked back to the dressing room, shoulders slumping at yet another attempt to try on your dress. Was your body the problem? Did you have a funny taste in wedding fashion?

On your way to the curtained area, you tripped on the dress, quickly balancing yourself before actually falling over, checking if you had done any damage to the dress, "just because it doesn't look right on you it doesn't mean you should rip it, Y/N", you muttered to yourself.

"Chérie", Pascale called, "can I talk to you for a bit?", she asked before you nodded, letting her grab your hand, "It's ok, beautiful girl, there are lots of dresses. We will find the one you like the most and that is the one for you", she said rubbing your hand in a comforting manner.

You nodded and looked up, keeping the tears at bay, "thank you", you sighed, squeezing her hand.

The last dress was not one you would usually go for even though you still picked it from the hangers, finding the ties and undoing then enough so you could try it on. You slid the dress on carefully and pulled the ties as tight as you could, pushing your boobs a little so they would fall into the moulded cups. As you looked in the mirror, you felt beautiful in it. The bodice fit perfectly, hugging your waist beautifully before fanning out on your hips, and the train wasn't too long, just the right amount to elongate your presence. It felt soft against your skin, and once the lacing on the back was properly done up, it would feel secure and delicate.

Giggling softly, you walked out to meet the group again.

"I think she found it", your soon to be sister in-law Charlotte smiled she saw your radiant smile, "I just need help with the back", you said, turning around so Pascale could help you as she immediately got up and delicately threaded up the laces on he back.

"It's beautiful, Y/N, you look so beautiful", Pascale whispered, "It's like it was made for you," Alexandra clapped her hands excitedly, "This the one", your murmured, twirling around happily in front of the mirror.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[cosmicseafoam]

Randy Moore on the Sunken Teeth Co live part2

part 1 about the drop here

These wont be super in order as I'm gonna try to group them

Dividers by @wrathofrats

He's in the middle of making a record so new music soon-ish

It's not a new band, he says this is a "Randy record"

It's being produced by his friend Henry Chadwick

They'll be in the studio this weekend to record more stuff

.

Someone said "I hope you're taking care of the Mothman enamel pin I gave you" and he said he transferred it from his jacket to a pin board in his room to keep it safe so he doesn't lose it

"Do you still have the Sunken Teeth Bracelet I gave you at the SLC show?" he said "Yes I do! Anything that anybody has ever given me, I still have and I cherish cherish cherish everything that people take the time to hand me and make. 🙏🏻 I'm very appreciative. You guys are awesome"

He was fucking around a bit with a delay to make voice effects and said "I'm just trying to add some production value, y'know, just a little something, know what I'm saying?"

At one point he did something with the delay pedal and then said "never mind that was dumb and I've embarrassed myself"

He's excited to see the new Nosferatu

He doesn't have a dog but wishes he did

He's from the Bay Area

He drinks sparkling water

He's been watching The Sopranos for the first time (he's on s6)

He hasn't seen Twin Peaks

He hasn't gone to Spirit Halloween yet because he thinks he should wait for Lucy to get back from tour so they can go together

He hasn't watched Longlegs because he's "been busy doing stuff"

He's playing with Sweet Gloom in Santa Ana and San Diego on the 9th and 10th of August

He hasn't watched Over The Garden Wall

He really liked the Danzig dance scene in Abigail

If he was to get a Nightmare Before Christmas tattoo it would be of the masks that the three kids wear to represent him and his siblings

Someone said bring the 'stash back, he said "I don't think so"

He hasn't been to a Rocky Horror shadow cast and the thought scares him cause he doesn't want people to touch him while he's watching the movie

Someone asked which chipmunk he is, he said his sister Alyssa dubbed him Simon, herself Alvin, and their brother as Theodore.

He's not doing any overseas gigs any time soon

He said he's trying to recharge creatively and physically

He's an Aries

He uses the Ernie Ball regular slinky 10-46 guitar strings in the green pack

Someone asked if he plays mermaids he said "of course"

If he was a muppet he'd be "The Count. Obviously"

He has not listened to BRAT

He mains Dry Bones on Mario Cart

He likes Halloween because he thinks the weather is nicer, he likes sweater weather

He's never watched Baywatch

He gets scared of walk-through haunted houses

He is not going on the next Alkaline Trio tour

He likes Sisters Of Mercy

He has 10 or 11 guitars

He's been playing guitar since he was 11 or 12.

He takes his coffee with lots of sugar but Lucy drinks hers black which he "could never"

He doesn't know what he's gonna be for Halloween

He's not watching IWTV

He wants to visit Salem and the cemeteries in New Orleans

He has paper bats strung up on his shelf and he said "The bats keep my record collection safe. From... the sun! Idk."

He hasn't watched the new Deadpool movie

He likes The Shining

.

"I'm a real vampire, it's confirmed"

"I can fit in your pocket. I can get in there, for sure. IIIIIII can get in that pocket"

Someone asked how tall he is and between questions he said "I'm 6 feet tall", "I'm LIKE 6 feet. I don't know what I am, I haven't measured myself since I was 12 so who cares", "I'm like 6ft on a good day. People shrink, fluctuate. Who cares. Who cares about anything", "Yeah I'm like 6 feet on a good day, it's not that big of a deal. 6 feet is like NOT that tall. Maybe? I don't know", "I'm ACTUALLY 7 feet tall. Let that be the takeaway from this." and finally "I'm two bats tall."

Someone in the chat said "Basically 6ft is not 6ft, why do men lie?" and he responded "I'm sorry. I'm just- I'm just a boy"

Favourites:

Vampire movie: The Lost Boys, he later mentions it was filmed in Santa Cruz which is close to where he lives and he hangs out at the bridge sometimes

Beatles song right now is "I'm looking through you"

Chappell Roan song: Red Wine Supernova

BoyGenius song: "probably Satanist" but he really likes the first EP a lot

The Strokes song: either The Adults Are Talking or Last Nite

Cryptid: Mothman

Newer horror movie: Nope by Jordan Peele

Tattoo of his: ballerina on a tightrope or the crocodile underneath her

He owns a first pressing of Goddammit by Alkaline Trio and it's his favourite record of all time

Someone asked him to rate the 1990s ninja turtle movie out of 100 and he said "It's probably 100, it's maybe my favourite movie"

He can't pick between Creature Of The Black Lagoon and Dracula, they're his two favourites from the Universal monsters

Dogs or cats? "Dogs"

Metallica album: Master Of Puppets

Misfits song: Night Of The Living Dead or "Astro Zombies is always a favourite" and he did specify Danzig Misfits

Spirit World song: ULCER

Dracula: Bela Lugosi

System Of A Down song: Toxicity

Guitar model: Fender Jaguar

Dead Kennedys song: Kill The Poor. He said Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables is his favourite DK record.

He likes MCR, his fav album is Three Cheers and fav song is I'm Not Okay

Fall Out Boy song: Dance Dance

Fav song EVER: Sleepwalk by Santo & Johnny

Animal: Bats. No specifics, he said "I like 'em all!"

Alkaline Trio song from the new album: Shake With Me

Halloween candy: the pumpkin reeses cups

Concert: He saw Green Day do a secret show at Gilman Street which is a really small DIY venue

Thing about touring: he likes to see the friends he's made over the years cause he doesn't get to see them often

White Claw: Raspberry. He doesn't like Black Cherry so he gives those to Lucy

Cemetery he's visited: Hollywood Forever

AFI song: Fall Children

Zombie Film: Night Of The Living Dead

Horror movie actor: Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, Christopher Lee

Pokemon: he's a Charmander guy

Place to travel: "My bed. I love sleeping"

Food: Pizza. He said he's a pineapple on pizza guy.

Liv was in the chat and ask for a toy shelf tour

Pee-wee Dracula painted by Matt Skiba, given to Randy as a gift

He has a Green Day tour poster from when Dog Party (his gf Lucy’s band) opened for them and he said “super proud of Lucy, she’s the best”

Funkos: Rivers Cuomo, Dracula (which the lady at walgreens didn't charge him for), and Twenty One pilots but he's trying to get rid of his funko pops

He’s trying not to collect things anymore

Kiss Alive figures

Ozzy bark at the moon werewolf eating a mini brand ball taco

Ninja turtles 1990 movie figures

Fake ninja turtles ice cream

Alkaline trio Campbell soup cans from the my shame is true record

Metallica figurine setup

He thinks he has about 500 records on his shelf

Someone asked for a tattoo tour and he said "that would take too long" but he did show off his arm and speed run through some of them.

tooth

flower

moth

birds

crystal ball

rose through a heart

ballerina + crocodile

bats

skeleton

panther

scorpion

His first tattoo was a mermaid on an anchor on his upper arm. Her tail is "seafoam green" which he said is his favourite colour.

Most of his tattoos are in a traditional style, but he said he's "got some crazier ones" on his leg.

Ones he didn't specifically mention but that I've seen from photos:

a broken arrow

an astronaut lady

bats on his collarbones

portrait of a lady on the back of his arm

a few random roses scattered around

a large flower on his elbow

(what looks like) a rose inside a diamond with a straight razor underneath

(what looks like) a mummy/wrapped sarcophogus

Legs:

dagger and rose

Elvis TCB lightning bolt

a small flower with a smiley face in the center

creature from the black lagoon

[coolingrosa]

I lied I have one more burning question I almost forgot about:

Nightmare said in the pilot that Error didn't finish all the code for where the castle is. Does this mean that Error actually created something :0? Any particular reason why he never finished ie lore related or because he just thought creating something was too grody for him lol?

OOOOO I NEVER THOUGHT I WAS GONNA GET ASKED SMTH LIKE THIS UNTIL LATER ON BUT NOW I CAN CLEAR STUFF UP THANK YOU THANK YOU

So, Error in RV does not have the same love for destroying as his canon. He was created to do it in order to keep the multiverse stable, but besides his given existence, he doesn’t find it fun and uses it more as a way to get his anger out and to keep Destiny at bay. So to fully confirm: RoseVerse Error did not start destroying on his own, and is forced.

So yea, Error doesn’t mind creating things. However, he doesn’t EXACTLY create things from scratch. His methods is grabbing already existing codes and combining it with others to create an overall piece. So…regular coding. With his abilities, he’ll never be able to truly create things, which is why he likes knitting. Meanwhile, Ink is able to create things on his own accord with his paint.

Because of this, Nightmare was the one to stumble upon a broken down castle when he was a young adult and saw potential. He planned to clean it up and make it fancy with Error’s help with the codes so Ink would not only be more protected, but so they could have more room for Nightmare’s growing empire. They had finished the castle and laid out the base of the forest and animals, but then Ink vanished.

Error was too inconsolable to finish the project. And when he became more numb, he refused to touch it again and remained far away from it.

In a weird type of punishment for himself, Nightmare stayed and lived there alone until Killer came along. Nightmare’s aura grew so powerful that it made the area haunting and the castle darker in appearance and mood, which is what Killer is used to.

it’s just a reminder of what could’ve been.

However, Nightmare wasn’t going to tell Killer that for Error’s sake, so he brushes past it.

[ladyeyrewrites]

Feelings Hurled Like Hand Grenades

Read from Chapter One

Rated M

4,463 words

TW: mentions of bullying, discussion of large age gap relationship (still between adults, but some people may find it squicky)

Chapter Six: That Raging Beast

Kittie cornered Tony in the break room when he went to refill his coffee. “So, how’d it go?” She was dressed like Rosie the Riveter with a bunch of queer and feminist patches sewn to the jumpsuit. The scarf in her hair was the colours of the lesbian flag and she’d done a graphic eyeliner to match. “Is your brother as big an asshole as you thought or is the situation more nuanced than kid-you was able to understand as the time?”

Tony shook his head. Honestly, he’d expected Kittie to accost him with questions the moment he walked in the door, that morning but she’d bided her time, striking only once he’d finished his morning batch of clients and eaten lunch. “It actually went better than I expected,” he admitted. “I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d be able to sit there and listen to whatever bullshit excuse for an apology, I thought he was going to give. I was ready to start a fight.”

Kittie grinned. “So, it went well?”

“Well, the cops weren’t called,” said Tony. Which was the bar by which he measured most Kinard family events. “I’m honestly still processing it all.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “It just made me realise how little I know about what things were like before my mom died.” He had vague memories of his mother, but he’d been eight when she died and he’d blocked out a lot of his early childhood. Trying to remember things from that time was like squinting through a rain-washed windshield without lights or wipers – liable to run himself off the road and into the ditch of fantasy. Based on what little he knew about psychology, that probably meant that some traumatic shit had gone down. Which lined up with what he’d heard from his brothers and Aunt on the matter. “I, uh, talked to Aunt Gina about it some.” He smiled. It had been good to go to his aunt, to let down his guard, to be vulnerable. “I actually ended up coming out to her.”

Read more below the cut or on Ao3

Kittie grinned. “Good for you, man!” She was well aware of his usual stance on hugging and gave his shoulder a light punch instead which Tony appreciated. “That’s major. Think she’ll stop trying to set you up on dates now?”

“Who knows?” Tony shrugged. “I was honestly surprised she knew what asexuality was.”

Kittie gave him a look. “Really? You were surprised that your aunt who came of age during one of the most iconic moments in San Francisco's lesbian history knew about asexuality?”

Tony stared at Kittie. “You knew?” He searched his memory for any hints that Gina was a lesbian outside of the fact that she’d lived with another woman for years and came up empty. His aunt wasn’t butch, wasn’t an outspoken feminist of the man-hating variety, never spoke about her political views, never hinted at anything that remotely smelled of scandal ever having happened in her life. All-in-all, she presented the image of a woman who’d chosen having a career over having a family and who seemed at peace with that choice.

What had Kittie picked up on over the years of hiding out at Gina’s house from their respective shit-hole parents that Tony had missed?

“What, that your aunt’s a lesbian?” Kittie asked. “You didn’t?”

Tony shook his head. “I mean, looking back it makes sense, but that’s only because of Siobhan and I don’t think I’d have ever made the connection if she hadn’t told me.”

“Not even us queers are immune to defaulting to heteronormative narratives.” Kittie sighed and shook her head. “Well, I suppose I do have one of the most refined gaydars in the greater bay area,” she said. “Also, your aunt – hot.”

Tony frowned. He supposed that from a purely aesthetic perspective Aunt Gina could be considered good looking in a mature way, given her thick head of silvering hair, sharp blue eyes, and trim figure but what did he know? People were people and none of them did anything for him in the way writers described in romance novels. For a long time, he’d thought that he was simply a really late bloomer until he’d confided to Kittie that he thought he might be gay because he just didn’t feel any of the things he was “supposed” to when he looked at women and of course then Kittie had asked him if he’d felt any of those things towards men and he’d had to admit that he didn’t and she opened his eyes to the world of asexuality and the differences between types of attraction. All of which had led to Tony discovering that he was definitely asexual and probably either polyromantic or biromantic.

But none of that related to his best friend thinking his Aunt was hot. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Kittie shrugged. “We’re casual. And even if we weren’t, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate an attractive older woman who clearly takes care of herself.”

Tony shook his head. “Can we please talk about anything else?” He wasn’t sex-repulsed like he knew some asexual people were, but sex wasn’t the most comfortable subject for him either. Usually, Kittie was pretty good about respecting that.

“What? You don’t want me to be your new auntie?” Kittie laughed.

Tony groaned. “I hate you.”

She stuck her tongue out and him before heading out to the front of the shop to greet a client.

#

Noah was waiting in the hall in front of Tony’s apartment when he got back from work. Tony’s younger brother had shot up like a weed over the past few months and was taller than Tony and Mikey and nearly as tall as Tommy now, though he was skinny like his mom and his hair was a russet blond that brushed his shoulders rather than the dark brown that Tony shared with his full brothers. That russet blond hair that was doing a piss poor job of covering a freshly blackened eye.

Rage struck Tony like a rattlesnake. “Was it Dad?” He tilted Noah’s face towards the light and brushed his hair out of the way to get a better look. Taking in the dark purple bruising sparked Tony’s own violent instincts, the ones that had landed him in so much trouble back in school. He had a pretty good grasp on them now – boxing in his spare time helped keep it under control – but seeing his baby brother hurt always broke the cage that contained the pacing beast that was his rage.

“It wasn’t Dad.” Noah ducked away from Tony. “You probably won’t believe me if I tell you I got hit in the face with a ball during practice, would you?”

“Not unless basketballs suddenly shrank to the size of a fist since the last time I played,” said Tony. He unlocked the door and ushered his brother inside. “Also, if it was a basketball injury you wouldn’t be hiding out here. So, what happened if it wasn’t Dad?” Noah was usually pretty good about telling Tony the truth, not least of all because he was a terrible liar. So if Noah said it wasn’t their father who’d punched him, then Tony was inclined to believe him. But it was still clear that someone had punched him.

After flipping on the lights, Tony snagged a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer that he usually reserved for icing his hands if he’d gone too hard in the ring. He tossed it to Noah along with a dish towel to wrap it in.

Noah wrapped the peas and pressed them to his face, taking a seat at the banquette that served as Tony’s kitchen table seating. “It wasn’t Dad. Just some kids at school.”

“You got in a fight?” Tony’s eyes flicked to Noah’s knuckles, but he couldn’t see any scrapes or bruising there.

“Does it count as a fight if didn’t hit back?” Noah asked in that self-deprecating tone he sometimes used.

Tony’s rage did not abate. “Did the school do anything about it?” He didn’t bother asking why his brother had been targeted. Kids didn’t usually need much of an excuse to be cruel: second hand clothes, out-of-style hair, vibes, being too smart, being too dumb, not being able to fit one of the selection of moulds high school liked to place kids in. Whatever the reason, he doubted Noah had done anything to intentionally provoke the violence. Noah wasn’t like Tony that way.

Noah shook his head. “They jumped me after school. We were already off campus.”

“I’m calling the police,” said Tony, snatching his phone out of his pocket. “Tell me who did it.”

“Don’t,” Noah snapped.

Tony looked up from where he was googling the non-emergency police line. Noah’s eyes were wide with fear. “Noah, you were assaulted. They need to face consequences.”

“What, like you did?” Noah asked. “Cuz how exactly did getting sent to juvie for fighting help you?”

Tony sighed. “I got sent to juvie for shoplifting one too many times,” he said. “But okay, yeah. It wasn’t juvie that set me straight; it was Aunt Gina.”

Noah snorted.

“What?”

“Nothing,” said Noah. “I’m just picturing Auntie tearing those guys a new one and it’s honestly pretty satisfying to think about.”

Tony had to admit that he’d pay good money to see their aunt square off against a group of high school bullies with that razor tongue of hers. “Fine,” Tony said. “I won’t call the police and I won’t make you tell me who did it. But why don’t you tell me why you’re hiding from Dad?”

“Because I don’t feel like listening to another lecture about what it means to be a real man and how I have to suck it up and hit back, make the bully feel fear or whatever bullshit he’s going to tell me.” Noah sighed. “And if he doesn’t do that, he’ll probably try to teach me to box or some other shit to toughen me up.”

“Yeah, never listen to Dad when he tries to tell you what it means to be a man,” said Tony. He’d listened to his father, and it had gotten him thrown out of school for fighting. “Now, how about we cook something for dinner and then I can help you cover that bruise up and drive you home.” Kittie had taught him about the marvels of colour corrector, concealer and a full coverage concealer back when they were teenagers, and Tony still kept some around in case he came out of a fight with particularly bad bruising. Luckily, he and Noah had both gotten their colouring from their dad so what worked for Tony should do the trick for Noah.

“Can’t I stay here tonight?” Noah asked.

“You have school tomorrow,” said Tony.

“So, you can drive me,” said Noah. “I’ve got some clothes here from last time. I just really don’t want to have to deal with Mom or Dad right now.”

“Fine,” said Tony. “But you’re getting yourself to school, and you’re going home after school tomorrow. You can’t hide from your parents forever.”

“Deal.” Noah stuck out his hand and they shook on it. “I just need one night.”

They stood side by side in Tony’s galley kitchen, moving around each other in a practiced rhythm as they prepped a Mac & Cheese recipe Tony had learned from Aunt Gina. He set Noah to prepping salad ingredients while he grated cheese, made the roux for the sauce, added milk, and then began the slow process of steadily adding cheese to the milk and butter, ensuring it didn’t boil until he had a pot full oh ooey gooey goodness.

As always, when he cooked, Tony was reminded of his mother. Not of any one memory in specific, but of her in general. Of her messy apron, of her standing over a pot stirring, of her smiling as he bit into a slice of her home-made pizza. The song she’d hum on days when Dad wasn’t home and she danced barefoot on the linoleum while making tomato sauce from scratch using Nonna’s recipe that she’d learned as a new bride – a detail Tony had only learned after mom’s death and Nonna taught him the same recipe. God, he wished he’d had more time with her: Mom and Nona both.

In a way, Tony was jealous of his younger half-brother, whose mother was still alive and well. Who’d been there for all his important moments. Who would leave a true and vivid mark upon his memory when she eventually did die rather than a blurry smear of jumbled recollections. It was an ugly brand of jealous and Tony wasn’t proud of it. “How are your mom and Simone?” he asked, sprinkling more cheese into the sauce, a handful at a time. He stirred in a figure eight pattern to incorporate the cheese into the slowly thickening sauce.

Noah sighed, putting down the knife to scoop up carrot bits and drop them into the salad bowl. “Mom’s been pretending like everything’s fine even though Dad’s been so much worse since the funeral. Like, he used to have more good days than bad, you know. Now, it’s like he only has bad days.”

“Yeah,” said Tony. “That’s how he was after my mom died. Before he got together with your mom.”

“And Simone’s got a cool older boyfriend and is never home anymore,” said Noah. He moved on to grating some parmesan cheese.

“This boyfriend cooler than you?” Tony asked.

Noah snorted. “I stopped being cool when she was six.” And there was a sadness there that seemed to permeate a lot of their interactions lately.

Tony paused his stirring and patted Noah on the back. “Hey, you’ll always be cool to me.”

Noah rolled his eyes and ducked his head to hide how pleased he was. “You have to say that; you’re my older brother.”

“Hey, you’re cool because you made me an older brother,” said Tony. He bumped Noah’s shoulder with his own. “Before you, I was just the annoying baby brother.” And it was true. Noah’s birth had shifted everything for Tony – not always in the best ways because Dad somehow only had enough affection in his heart for whoever was the youngest kid at the time, shunting aside his other children as soon as the next one was born. But even though he’d been jealous of all the attention Noah had gotten as a baby, it was the first time Tony had felt needed by one of his family members, because he was the big brother now. It was his job to protect Noah. That was his purpose from that moment on.

Despite everything, the first time he’d gotten to hold Noah, had been magical.

2007

At twelve years old, Tony was old enough to understand that his stepmom (Dad had made it clear in no uncertain terms that he had to stop calling her Veronica) was pregnant. He knew a baby was going to be born and that that would change things.

It would cry all the time and poop its pants, and it would be boring cuz he wouldn’t be able to play with it.

But Tony was still excited.

He couldn’t help it.

The excitement built when one night his stepmom started pacing through the kitchen and breathing heavily. She told him to call his father. Snapped at him when Tony couldn’t get through to his dad at any of the bars he usually hung out in after work.

“Call your aunt!” his stepmom shouted even though she never usually raised her voice above a whisper. She hunched over the counter, belly looking ready to pop.

Tony dialled Aunt Gina’s number. It rang and rang and rang. “She’s not picking up,” he said.

“Damn it!” Veronica didn’t usually swear. But her face was twisted in pain and fear and Tony didn’t know what to do so he called 9-1-1, heart racing like he was running the 400 meter dash at field day.

He gave the dispatcher their address and his name like she asked and then said, “I think my stepmom’s having a baby.”

“Okay, is there another adult in the house, Tony?” the dispatcher asked.

“No, it’s just me and my stepmom,” said Tony. “I can’t find my dad and my aunt won’t pick up the phone.”

“It’s okay,” said the dispatcher in a calm voice that cut through Tony’s rising panic. “Paramedics are on their way and they’re going to make sure your mom and the baby are safe, okay.”

“Stepmom,” said Tony reflexively.

“How old are you, Tony?” the dispatcher asked.

“Twelve,” he said. “My birthday was last week.”

“Happy belated birthday,” said the dispatcher. “Do you think you can help your stepmom until the paramedics get to you?”

“Yeah,” said Tony, because he was supposed to be the man of the house when Dad wasn’t home and that meant he was supposed to take charge when things went wrong.

And then Veronica screamed. “It’s coming!”

“She says the baby’s coming,” said Tony.

“Okay,” said the dispatcher. “Here’s what we’re going to do…” and then she coached him through helping Veronica onto the floor and checking her dilation. It was gross and scary and Tony didn’t want to do it but there was no one else.

“I see the head,” he said.

“Okay, Tony,” said the dispatcher. “I think your little brother or sister is going to get there before the paramedics so I need you to get ready to catch. Put the phone down and put it on speaker so I can coach your stepmom through her contractions.”

Tony followed directions. He knelt between his stepmom’s knees, senses narrowing down until there was nothing except for his hands and the baby’s head.

Veronica groaned.

The baby’s head was all the way out and Tony put his hands under it even though it was gross and slimy, and he was only twelve and what if he dropped the baby and the baby died? What if Veronica died? They’d read books in school about mothers dying giving birth and what if Veronica died and Dad got like he was after mom died?

And then the baby slid out the rest of the way and he was in Tony’s arms. “It’s a boy,” he said in a voice that was his but didn’t feel like it. Like it was coming from a long way away.

Tony didn’t drop his baby brother. He followed the dispatcher’s instructions to lay the baby on Veronica’s chest, but before he could clamp and cut the cord like he’d seen in the movies, the paramedics arrived and took over.

Tony went and sat in the corner of the kitchen staring at his hands, covered in birthing gunk. It was gross but at the same time beautiful.

He had a little brother now.

He was a big brother.

He hadn’t dropped the baby.

And Tony wanted to make sure his baby brother never got dropped.

2025

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Tony said as he mixed the pasta in with the cheese sauce, making sure the sauce coated every bit of macaroni surface area. “I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

“Even if I become a serial killer?” Noah asked.

Tony chuckled. “Yeah. I’ll help you bury the bodies. Probably take the fall for you too. I look more like a serial killer than you do after all. Nobody would suspect a thing.”

Noah shook his head as he tossed the salad. “Pretty sure that’s an unhealthy level of enabling.”

“Yeah, well, I’d rather enable you than leave you to fend for yourself,” Tony said. He sighed and dished up the food.

“You thinking about Tommy?” Noah asked. There was hesitation in his voice, which Tony couldn’t blame him for, Tommy had always been a sore subject around the house, if he was ever mentioned at all.

Tony shrugged because he’d absolutely been thinking about Tommy and sometimes it was scary how perceptive his baby brother was. To be specific, he’d been thinking about whether or not Tommy would’ve taken the fall for any of them or if he’d have run off, leaving them to suffer the consequences of their actions. He knew it was a different scenario than what had chased Tommy off to begin with, but Tony had no idea if Tommy was the kind of person who would sacrifice himself to that extent or not. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t planning on becoming a serial killer any time soon and Mikey didn’t have it in him. “Did I tell you Mikey and I went down to see him over the weekend?”

Noah’s eyes widened in surprise as he shook his head. “Why? I thought you hated him.” He leaned in like he was curious to know all the details.

Tony sighed. “I thought I did too,” he said. “But there was just so much I didn’t know about what was going on with him, about how Dad treated him. Stuff I didn’t understand as a kid and no body told me about until now.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I got tired of hating him and wanted to trying understanding why he left and never came back.”

“Have you met our dad?” Noah asked. “Pretty obvious why he’d want to leave.”

Tony shrugged. “It wasn’t obvious to me at the time,” he said. “because believe it or not there was a time when I was Dad’s favourite and he didn’t let me see the bad stuff.”

“So, what are you brothers again?” Noah asked, picking at his food.

Tony fixed Noah with a look. “You’ll always be my number one, Noah,” he said. “Me and Mikey working things out with Tommy isn’t going to change that. You’ll always come first.”

Noah relaxed at that as if he’d been scared that Tony would leave him and Simone behind just like Tommy had left Mikey and Tony. Noah shovelled some food into his mouth. After a few more mouthfuls, he asked, “What’s he like? I didn’t really get a good look at him at the funeral and I didn’t think it would be a good idea to ask Dad.”

“You could always ask your mom,” said Tony. “She and Tommy went to high school together.”

“Okay, that’s creepy,” said Noah, wrinkling his nose.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Tony hadn’t exactly been able to articulate how weird it was when his Dad had started dating a girl the same age as Tommy, but now he knew just how unsavoury it was, for all Veronica had been 23 when they’d gotten married. But that wasn’t a subject he and Noah really liked to get into. Tony paused, fork midway to his mouth. How to describe Tommy? “He’s cool,” Tony began. “I always thought he was cool. In high school, he played basketball, and he fixed up this old car he bought cheap off a friend’s dad cuz Dad wouldn’t buy him one. He’s brave, not just cuz he joined the army. Only person I’ve ever seen stand up to Dad. Did you know he’s helicopter pilot with the LAFD.”

“That does sound cool,” said Noah. He frowned thoughtfully. “Must be tough, being gay and doing a job like that, even in LA.”

Tony hadn’t really thought about that. About what Tommy’s journey over the last twenty years had been like. “Yeah,” he said. “We didn’t really get into that. But it can’t be all bad. His fiancé is a firefighter too. At least, that’s what Mikey tells me.”

“That the guy who was with him at the funeral?” Noah asked. “Is that why dad got so upset?”

“You didn’t pick up on that?” Tony asked. “Thought all the slurs he was throwing around at the wake made it obvious.”

Noah shrugged. “I just put my headphones on and tuned it all out, to be honest.”

“Probably for the best,” said Tony. It had been humiliating how out of control their dad had gotten at the wake when they should have been remembering and celebrating Nonna. It had made him want to go no contact with Dad like Mikey had, except then Noah wouldn’t have anyone to turn to, so Tony kept the door open. “But yeah, that was Tommy’s fiancé.” And then an idea occurred to him. “Do you want to meet Tommy?”

“Really?” Noah asked and he sounded genuinely excited.

“Yeah,” said Tony. “He’s coming up in a couple weeks to hang out and to meet Maggie. You could come, get to know each other. Get away from Dad for a few hours.”

Noah thought about it for a second before nodding. “Yeah, that sounds cool.” He twisted a strand of hair in his fingers. “Should we tell Simone? I mean he’s her half-brother too.”

Tony paused, considering the very different relationship Simone had to their father compared to any of her brothers. “She’ll tell Dad,” said Tony. And then Dad would ferret out where the meeting would take place, and things would get ugly as they always did when Tommy and Jonathan Kinard butted heads.

Noah sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll think about it.” He kept playing with his hair as they finished eating.

“You gonna get a haircut?” Tony asked as they cleared the table.

Noah shook his head. “I like it long.”

“But Dad gives you crap over it,” said Tony, unsure why Noah wouldn’t do such a simple thing to make his life easier.

“Yeah, but it feels wrong when it’s short,” said Noah. He seemed hesitant to say more. Opening his mouth and closing it once before speaking. “I don’t feel like me when I’ve got the standard issue buzz cut Dad thinks is the pinnacle of male grooming.”

Tony chuckled. “Yeah, I get that. And for what it’s worth, I think it suits you.”

And Noah beamed. Black eye and all, it was the happiest Tony had seen his younger brother in a long time and while he loved to see Noah smile, sadness chipped away at the fragile peace they’d built around themselves that evening. Because his brother should be able to smile all the time. One simple compliment shouldn’t fill him with joy. He should be showered with a constant stream of praise for how smart and kind and sweet he was. And yet, Noah seemed more and more wilted each time Tony saw him and it fed that raging beast inside his heart, sharpened its claws, built a roar in its throat.

How long before Tony let the beast loose again?

How long before he sicced it on their father?

[xreader-obsessions]

Summary: The story of how you find out your best friend is an assassin. Jacob Frye x Reader Part 1 Part 2

Finding out that Jacob was involved in a fighting ring just made you more curious about your friend and who he was. Based on his skill in fighting and the money he made off of it, you wondered if it was his full time job.

Come to think of it, you met his twin sister before, who you got alone wonderfully with, but no one else from his family. And evertime you offered to visit, he always canceled so you never got to know where he lived. You never pushed too hard for answers to respect his boundaries, but your curiosity was starting to drive you mad.

Your determination and confusion was only fuled when you found a mysterious letter on your doorstep one morning.

"You've never seen the real Jacob Frye. If you truly wish to know who he is, you must see him in the town. Go to the alley between the housing and factory on Jackson street at 8:00 pm if you want to see his true colors."

A carriage waited for you on the main street outside of your house hidden away from curious eyes. Then when you felt it was time, you made your way behind the industrial building. It was the loud shady area of town that you last visited with Jacob. This place was dirty, loud and frightening. Dark shadows fell on every corner and the deafening clanking sounds from the working factory kept you on edge. Maybe that was why you paid no attention to the first figure that scrambled and stumbled into the alley ahead of you.

He was afraid and held his hands up in defense and fear. You paid him little attention until someone you knew stepped into the flickering light of the gas lamps. Jacob.

Jacob gripped the pleading man by the front of his shirt and light reflected off the brass knuckles Jacob wore as he raised his fist to him. Logically you knew you did not have the full picture, that there must have been something else going on to justify what you were witnessing, but your heart said otherwise.

"Jacob?" You called out to him in a weak, questioning voice and hoped he did not react. You wanted it to be a case of mistaken identity, but it was not.

"(y/n)!" Jacob looked up at you in shock, his mouth was hung open and his eyes were wide. The expression immediately vanished when the man he attacked bolted down the alley. Jacob froze, unable to decide whether he should stay and face you or catch his target.

"Who sent you here?" He demanded then immediately changed the subject, "You can get in a lot of trouble for being seen here with me. Please, just leave." Worry seeped into his voice when he asked you to leave, but before you could make your decision, he himself ran off into the maze of alleyways.

Jacob avoided you for days after the incident. You patiently waited on him to feel ready to confront the topic, but your patience wore thin. This went on for three days until you became determined to see the man who wrote you the letter. His name was Maxwell Roth,the owner of one of the nearby factory districts. You recalled hearing Jacob talk about him before to Evie and from what you over heard, he was Jacob's business partner.

Maxwell Roth's office sat on the top floor of his manufacturing factory. Since you were never invited to the factory, you worried over how your unwelcomed arrival would stand with the man of questionable character. So you stood outside the carriage that was parked in the docking area of the factory. It seemed appropriate since all the carriages carrying shipments to and from this building stayed there. You took a deep breath, asked the driver to wait on you for a half hour at most and proceed towards the front door.

It was actually a sliding bay door that was as large as a wall and, thanks to the wheels that were attached to it, slid open when you pushed it. Beyond the wall was a mess of fire, smoke and sweat.

The ringing and clanging sound of iron striking iron was so loud workers had to shout to each other just to be heard. Strong men covered in sweat labored over shaping metal with heavy hammers and sparks flew at them with every hit.

Small children with soot covered faces ran around the factory floor to complete their assigned tasks. Others shoveled piles of dark coal into furnaces that belched out dark pillars of smoke. Metal rafters criss-crossed high above your head and added to the massive size of the building. The ceiling and rafters were so high above your head, you had to look up to even notice them.

You wandered up a set of narrow, but massively tall stairs that ran along the front of the left wall. They lead up to a small looking office that had windows covering the upper half of every wall so the manager could always keep an eye on his workers. Even though it seemed impossible for anyone to notice you among the chaos of the floor, you quickly ascended the stairs and was spotted.

The boss resided in the office, sitting behind a large desk with a smug smile as he waited on you to enter the room. He obviously knew you were coming after all.

"Mr. Roth" you politely greeted from the doorway before stepping in, "I came here regarding the letter you sent me a few days ago. I did not expect you to manage your workers so poorly."

He stood and chuckled at your naive expectations and your guts for having your opening statement be so rude and rejecting. His lack of communication angered you and you chose to speak for him in an attempt to get him to talk.

"Jacob. He works against you doesn't he?" You questioned bluntly after piecing everything together. Maybe Jacob worked with this man at one point in time, but there was no way he would tolerate this type of business.

"Yes he does. He attacks my industry, kills my best men. All to sabotage our work. "

"Based off what I've seen here. It seems he's doing the right thing. You make children slaves, create deadly work spaces for your people and ignore their needs and further the poverty in this town. You need to be stopped."

"I work against Starrick just like him. We should be partners!" He objected, "but simple people like you and that rat don't seem to understand that. Besides, if Jacob was doing such good work, why would he hide it? We all know he doesn't want you or anyone to know about his work. I must say he's done quite well at keeping the two separate. You're the only person he knows that I've been able to track down after all. Besides his sister."

"That's why you sent me the letter? To expose him and have me betray him? To make me believe he is as evil as you?"

"Oh, I had more in mind than just that." He said with a smile as he drummed his fingers along the desk. "It lured you out of his safety, which is more than I could have asked for." Alarm bells went off in your head as you realized this whole conversation was made to stall and distract you. By the time you turned around there was already a large figure blocking the doorway.

He reached for your arm, but you quickly moved it away and punched the hulking man right in the throat. Out of breath and confused by the sudden turn of events, he became an easy guard to slip past.

Your dress was restrictive enough to slow you down as you raced to the carriage, but not enough to let you get caught. Due to the extra fabric that fell in front of your feet, it was also very easy to trip on if you miss stepped as you weaved your way through the active working floor.

Thankfully, your driver was alert and sped off the moment you were in the carriage. The momentum caused you to fall in your seat and everything jostled from side to side. You were successfully out pacing the goons when your driver was attacked. He fell off the stand and tumbled down the road as the horses charged on from fear. The carriage was now out of control.

Immediately you leaned out of the carriage and gripped the ledge that was above the door way and found footholds along the bottom of it. While gripping onto the jerking vehicle with every ounce of strength you had, you shimmied along the carriage till you were up front. You refused to look down while moving, for the blurring ground was only a reminder of how fast you were moving and even though it was not at the speed of a train, it was terrifying.

You placed yourself behind the reigns and pulled on them while talking softly to the animals. They slowed but were still panicked and uncontrollable as they whined and pulled from the direction you guided them in. Soon, they calmed down with the help of your soft voice, and once you regained control, you pulled the whole carriage around towards the fight.

You placed the carriage protectively in front of your driver and jumped down from the bench. His leg was wounded, and his body was bruised from the fall. Scratches lined the sides of his arms, and blood ran down them as he used them to protect himself. Slinging his arm around your neck, you helped him into the carriage as your enemies surged forward.

You jumped back into your carriage before the enemy could grab you and sped down the road once again. It still felt impossible for you to have full control over the carriage's movements and you had to remind yourself that you were controlling animals, not a machine. It was overwhelming with the wind in your face and sounds you could not tune out.

You swerved as a carriage collided with the back side of your own. You struggled to keep straight and avoid hitting pedestrians while you were pushed further and further towards the building walls along the right edge of the road. At this point, it was almost too late to fight back since there was no wiggle room, but you tried.

You pulled your reigns harshly to the left, the horses whined in surprise and your carriage jerked left with enough force to move your opponent. Then you repeated your actions without giving them time to recover, causing a wheel to break under the stress and immobilizing the enemy vehicle. The victory was short lived as two other carriages replaced the decommissioned one.

Since they could easily wedge you between each other and make sandwich you, you decided to run. The horses darted forward at your command and kept a fast pace. You locked your eyes on the road ahead and refused to look back as the thugs gloating and yells plagued you. They were closing in, and it was a reality you did not want to witness until you heard a figure fall onto your carriage's roof.

You did your best to steady your breath and remain calm as the hijacker only came closer to you. The fear only increased as he sat next to you and revealed himself to be your missing friend. You were not ready to face him after everything you just learned, and the anger etched in his handsome features was not helping ease your worry.

He seemed to take his anger out on his environment. He took the reigns from you and slammed the side of your carriage into one of the enemy's until they were driven off the road. Then, you heard the sound of gunshots and instinctively bowed your head. Jacob did not though. He went rigid then looked over his shoulder to see where they were coming from.

He studied the figures behind him, then spotted a passenger on the last carriage that was running them down. He threw the reigns back into your hands, giving you control over the carriage once again, and order you to steady it along the other.

Without question you did as he asked as he returned to the roof. With a running leap, he landed on the other cart, pulled one man from his seat to throw him to the road and stabbed the driver so he too fell. The carriage began to swerve now under the frightened horses' control. Instead of taking it over, he returned to the carriage you steadied, took the reigns, and sat in silence as he drove.

You had never been so afraid of the man's calm and calculated rage. He never gave you a reason to fear him before. But now that you did, tension and fright weighed down on you as you sat next to him in silence the whole ride home. You did not dare say a word as he was left quiet and stewing in his own anger. Thinking over everything he was going to say to you the whole ride. He felt his anger and frustration keep building onto itself until you arrived at the train hideout where he would let loose.

"I told you!" Jacob cut himself off feeling overcome with anger, "I told you to leave this alone."

"Don't you dare blame this on me," you shot back with just as much venom in your voice, "The only reason I was even there tonight was because you just left and it worried me," your words quieted Jacob's anger as he absorbed the meaning of your words. "I was looking for some type of rational explanation for what I saw you do in that alley. So sorry if my actions seemed a little rash, but at least he was offering to help."

"Help? You didn't even know who he really was!" You fell silent, feeling hurt by him calling you ignorant. "You just looked for your answers, not caring who you were trusting to get them."

"What's going on over here?" Evie questioned as she entered the train car. You took her distracting entrance as an opportunity to wipe tears from your eyes and calm your beating heart.

"She knows." Jacob replied simply with annoyance lining his voice.

"About what?"

"About us...Evie. This whole thing. Roth told her everything."

"Technically, I don't know everything. Just that you've been killing blighters and other men." You stated then whisper to the side, "which I am not entirely against since they're mad men."

Evie just shook her head in sane disappointment and gestured for you to sit down by pointing to a booth seat. You listened, arms still crossed and your body still tense. You glared at Jacob like a pouty child. Maybe you would feel ashamed if he was not doing the same thing to you.

"Both of you need to stop your bickering first off and figure out what really happened." Jacob attempted to cut off his sister but was quickly shut down, "Why don't you start (y/n). Seeing Jacob here cannot hold his tongue."

"Well, Evie. I started getting mysterious letters that I now know were from Maxwell Roth. I knew I should have ignored them, but they promised me answers to things about you and Jacob I had to know....then one came with an address on it."

"So you just start trusting to meet any stranger on the street?"

"Jacob!" Evie barked at him sharply, causing the young man to pull back. Evie then changed her tone to address you, "Roth manipulated you then. Used your curiosity against you?"

"Yes," you admitted in shame, "I came across Jacob fighting men in an alley. I left before I saw too much and didn't want to believe what I saw. I knew there was more to the situation, but Jacob disappeared on me. And Roth promised to tell me what happened that night, and I was desperate to clear his name." Jacob's eyes shot up towards you in surprise, and his guard lowered. Not many people gave a ruff looking man like him a second chance.

"He wanted to meet me at his factory today. So I went. He told me Jacob was killing his 'innocent' workers and tried to turn me on him. When I wouldn't, he sent men to kidnap me or worse. I ran, then Jacob appeared and....saved me."

"And Jacob, what did you see?" Evie asked.

"I saw her at the factory grounds. Getting into a fight she didn't belong in just because she was curious and too trusting." Anger still resonated in his voice and his arms tensed as he clenched his fists. "I saw her commandeer a run away carriage with men chasing after her."

"So you're upset at him for ignoring you and you're upset at her for being in danger. But it seems to me if you were honest to her, she wouldn't be in danger." An odd sense of pride washed over you as she supported your side of the story, "but (y/n) you shouldn't have been so foolish to fall for this trap."

"It's not like I knew I was getting into something this risky." You fought back. Jacob stood to his feet and paced as he mumbled curses, annoyed by your insolence.

"I'll tell you everything. Jacob and even I are a part of a clandestine organization. We're assassins. Our purpose is to restore peace, order, and freedom to this city's people. We are working with the Rooks and other officials and our work has changed this place more than you know."

"So you kill bad people in order to help change the oppressive hold or influence corrupt people might have on the city?"

"Yes. And the man you met tonight, Maxwell is an ex-Templar and one of our main enemies."

"He mentioned someone named Starrick. Said you both worked against him. Is he a Templar as well?"

"Yes. We can go over more in the morning if you want to stay the night."

"I'll make sure the Rooks know she's on our side," Jacob stated before quickly leaving the train car and entering the next one.

Evie was much more caring about being a good host to you. She grabbed extra blankets and a pillow from compartments that were hidden through the train and made a temporary bed for you on one of the plush train seats. She also gave you a tour and showed you where to grab some food if you got hungry. She also advised you on which cars to avoid, as they were used as bedrooms for herself and one for her brother.

The train felt endless as you walked from car to car, making you realize the scale at which the two assassins are working at to own so much. To put it simply, they were rich and earned that money through their grim deeds.

You decided to turn in early for the night, your mind swimming in new information that maybe you would be better prepared to understand in the morning.

[666writingcafe]

Barbatos' Birthday Surprise (Part Five)

"Barbatos?" I poke my head out of the hotel suite's bedroom and find that he's starting to unpack his belongings in the living room area. "What are you doing?"

"I figured you would have the bed," he explains, merely glancing up at me. "I'm fine sleeping on the couch."

"Barbatos."

"Yes?"

"You can't get a good night's sleep on a couch."

"It would be improper to have you sleep here." I can't help but roll my eyes at him. He still is in butler mode, even though he's supposed to be on vacation and, more importantly, relax.

"You know, we don't have to sleep separately." Thankfully, that makes Barbatos stop moving around and focus his attention on me.

"I..." He clears his throat and swallows, and I wonder if I've made him nervous. "Are you sure, MC?" I sigh.

"If I didn't feel comfortable with the idea of the two of us sharing a bed together, I wouldn't have suggested it in the first place."

"You're right." He sets the stack of clothes he's holding down on the couch, walks up to me, and gently grasps my hand. "You'll have to forgive me, MC. This sort of relationship is...new to me. I don't want to overstep any boundaries." I can tell he's being earnest. It's quite sweet. And adorable.

"Don't worry." I squeeze his hand and smile softly at him, trying to reassure him. "I'll let you know if you misstep." I lean in and gently kiss him on the cheek; pulling back reveals a slightly blushing Barbatos.

"Give me a few moments to reorganize, and I'll meet you back there," he replies, his voice softer than usual.

~~~

August 23

Unsurprisingly, by the time I wake up, Barbatos has long vacated the bed. He usually ends up waking up at the crack of dawn to begin his duties for the day, so it's not like I expected him to suddenly be able to sleep in while he's on vacation.

What is peculiar, however, is the fact that he's not in the suite's kitchen, but instead appears to be in the bathroom.

The one time he got tickets, he ended up with a horrible stomach flu that knocked him out for the entire week of the concert.

Oh no. Did he end up sick again?

Trying to keep my nerves at bay, I walk up to the bathroom door and gently knock.

"Barbatos, are you okay?" I ask. The sound of things clanking answers me. What exactly is he doing in there that would make that much noise? From what I heard, he normally doesn't take that long to get dressed.

"Yes," he responds back. "I'll be out shortly. I didn't anticipate taking so long in here, but I'm almost done." Part of me still feels uneasy as I head over to the living room area and sit on the couch. While he didn't sound sick, the fact that he mentioned taking longer in there than he expected...what is going on?

My question soon gets answered when the bathroom door opens and Barbatos steps out. To put it simply, he doesn't look like the butler that I've come to know. His hair flows down past his chest, his bare arms are covered with tattoos, his short-sleeved shirt accentuates his muscles, and his black jeans are actually ripped.

He looks...well, hot. Until this moment, I never fully understood why Asmo was so obsessed with Barbatos, but if the Avatar of Lust has seen him like this, then it all makes sense. Not that Barbatos is bad-looking by any means when he's in his usual attire, but this brings his appearance to a whole other level.

Which makes me incredibly nervous.

"MC?" Barbatos is suddenly kneeling in front of me, his hands grabbing my own. "What's wrong?"

"You look great," I answer, my voice a bit croaky. Quickly realizing how wrong that sounded, I add,

"Not that that's a bad thing, of course. It's just that...well..." I can't finish my sentence. Incomplete thoughts are racing around in my head, and I can't put any of them together to say anything coherent. Barbatos leans in and places a hand on the side of my face, as if sensing what I'm worrying about.

"I like you exactly as you are, MC. You have a very beautiful soul, and I find that attractive."

"Because you're a demon."

"Well, yes, but I've found that all beings are drawn to souls like yours, not just inhabitants of the Devildom." He rests his forehead on mine, making my heart begin to beat faster. "I am beyond grateful that I get to do this with you, MC. This experience wouldn't be the same without you." He kisses me gently before leaning away and standing back up.

"However, if you are worried about what people might say when they see us together, then I can help you get ready. That is, if it would help you feel better about your overall appearance. I personally think you would look fine in whatever you wanted to wear, but I know that me saying that may not help quiet the voice inside your head."

[away-ward]

What do you think the dn couples are doing right now? Just a fun question😁

Oooooh. Fun!

Well, it's mid-summer, so just far enough from Devil's Night that they probably haven't started prepping. Emory turned 29 ten days ago, so maybe they're still recovering from that😉

I assume Damon and Em have their hands full with summer projects.

I think the dojo would have a class for kids while they're out of school. Teach them discipline, give them some training. You know, all the fun stuff Kai's dad taught him. I can imagine Kai enjoys teaching middle school kids, though. I know the girls probably have a girl's only class for high school and college ages.

I would love for Thunder Bay to have a lot of summer carnivals and festivals, which Rika would either have a hand in approving or showing up for. The fun stuff to balance all the bureaucracy (I actually don't know what a mayor of a small town would do most of the time...)

However, as I was thinking about this, a realization struck me. If we're going by the timeline I proposed, then Fire Night and the epilogue take place in 2030/31, which means here in 2024 we're still six years away from that.

If II, Jett, and Tavi are all five in Fire Night, they should be born next year (or this year, depending on birthdays and math that I'm not going to do). Which means. . . Winter, Nik, and/or Emory are pregnant/will be pregnant. Given the younger kid's close ages, it's probable that at one point, they were all pregnant at the same time. I'm sure that's going to be very exciting for them.

And that leaves Michael and Rika. They're happy with Athos, but never really gave up on the dream of Aaron. It did remind me of Corrupt, when Michael said he knew what Rika needed. Now that this issue has been out in the open for years, Michael might be more sensitive to Rika's needs in that area. It would be nice for them to go on a little family vacation. A short one, but finding some time for them to focus on each other and Athos, and for Michael to specifically focus on Rika.

Winter has four boys, ages 2-5, or thereabouts. I'm sure she's loving pool time with them.

Mads would be about 5 or 6.

Indie's about 4, and if Finn is the middle child, she's about 1 year old, maybe almost 2.

Athos is about 12.

Thanks for the question! It was a lot of fun to think of what they'd be up to right now, where they're at in life. To think we're living at a time before their family grows again. A weird little peek into the time between.

I'd love to hear what other's think could be going on with them!!

KO

[les-pompiers118]

Illumination (a 9-1-1 ficlet)

A little Buck & Hen coda piece for episode 7x04. About 1.2K words, not rated. Contains major spoilers for "Buck, Bothered and Bewildered."

Also posted to AO3 here.

“Hey, what’s going on with you today?”

Hen’s voice startles Buck off the frame of the open roll-up door at the back of the equipment bay, where he was—what? Gathering his thoughts? More like letting them run amok, because there seems to be no getting them under control at the moment. Even the mindless task of polishing the engine had proved too much, and Buck just… needed a minute.

It’s been approximately eighteen hours since Tommy kissed him. Eighteen hours in which his whole damn perception of himself has been turned upside down and inside out. So there’s that. But there’s also been an embarrassing amount of losing himself in the memory of it, and imagining what it might be like to do it again. Maybe with Tommy’s broad chest pinning Buck against a wall… or those rough, competent hands on Buck’s skin somewhere… Or—

“Nothing,” Buck answers, a little too defensively, but of course Hen can tell he’s lying.

“You’ve been distracted all day, Buck.” She gives him an unimpressed look. “Are you and Eddie still not talking about how you tackled him during a friendly basketball game?”

“I didn’t tackle him! It was more like… a mid-air hip check.”

Hen huffs and shakes her head. “You can take the boy off the football team, but you can’t take football instincts out of the boy, I guess.”

“Hip checking is hockey, not football,” Buck corrects her. “And to answer your question, Eddie and I did talk about it and it’s fine. He knows I just, uh, let my emotions get away from me during the game. I apologized for it. We’re good.”

“Then what are you all in your head about? Last time you were like this, it was when you were secretly contemplating donating certain bodily fluids to a certain former roommate and his wife. They didn’t ask you to help with baby number two already, did they?”

“No! I’m just—”

Buck breaks off with a wince. God, he’s not sure if he’s ready to tell anyone yet. He’s definitely not ready to make some big, dramatic announcement when he’s still trying to wrap his head around this. Not that he’s waffling about what it meant—the head-to-toe thrill that went through him when Tommy’s mouth collided with his. Buck recognized that sensation right away, with all the certainty of someone who’d accidentally touched a live wire. He’s not a kid, for Christ’s sake.

Talking about it—out loud—though. That’s a different story.

On the other hand, this is Hen. Who better to unburden himself to than her? And then maybe he’ll be able to focus on what he’s supposed to be doing here, at work, and save his personal mess for after the shift ends.

“Okay,” he begins, pulling Hen gently by the arm out into the parking area. “Okay, but please don’t tell anyone. I mean, anyone. But especially not Chimney.”

“All right,” Hen says slowly. “What did you do?”

Buck takes a deep breath. “I kissed Tommy.”

“You what!?”

“Well, he kissed me, actually. He came over to clear the air, because he was afraid he was the cause of some bad blood between me and Eddie. You know, since they’ve been spending so much time together, and it was driving me… Uh, I’m not proud of that, either.” Buck runs his hand over his mouth and pushes on. “Then we were talking, and he said he’d teach me Muay Thai if I wanted, and then the next thing I knew, he was just… going for it.”

“Wow,” Hen says simply, and even though Buck can’t bring himself to look her in the face right now, he can tell she’s genuinely shocked. “Wow, I guess you really never can tell with some people. Not that Tommy and I were ever especially close, what with the way things were when I first arrived at the 118. Huh.”

Buck stops himself from telling her that this conversation is supposed to be about him, not Tommy. Honestly though, it hadn’t occurred to him until this moment to think about whether Tommy is out or not. That’s not cool, Buck chastises himself.

“Uh, yeah that’s probably another reason this should just stay between us for now. We didn’t really talk about whether it’s okay for me to tell people. About him.”

Hen raises her eyebrows. “But you did talk, didn’t you? He didn’t just run off or something?”

“We sort of talked? He asked me out on a date. Saturday night.”

“And you said…” Hen prompts.

“Yes,” Buck tells her, with a whooshing exhale and a grin. “I said yes.”

“Okay, then. Good. So what’s the problem?”

She’s looking at him with that mix of patience and exasperation that he knows too well. Like he’s being dense.

“The problem is that I’m thirty-two years old, Hen! It shouldn’t have been such a surprise to me that I—” Buck lowers his voice to a loud whisper. “That I’m into guys, too. Like, don’t most people just know? While they’re growing up?”

Hen reaches over to squeeze his arm. “Not necessarily. There are plenty of good reasons why some people don’t figure it out until they’re older. Sometimes much older than thirty-two, by the way. There aren’t any rules here, Buck. Everyone has their own path to get there. But… you are there, you think?”

“Oh, god. Yes.” Buck gives a small laugh, just lets it bubble out of him. It’s like opening a valve, releasing the pressure inside of him. “I’m one-hundred percent there. No doubt in my mind at all.”

“That’s wonderful. Even so, give yourself some time to process it, okay?”

“I will. But, uh, how long does processing take?” Buck asks helplessly. “I feel like I’m back in that hurricane. There are about fifty different emotions hitting me from all directions right now, and it’s kind of hard to function.”

“That’s just the nature of the beast, I’m afraid. It’s a scary thing, having that big revelation about yourself and figuring out what it means for your life.”

“I’m not scared. More like… in a daze. Every time I think about it, it knocks me back again. And then I think about tomorrow night and I start to get all jittery. Nervous. Cause I’ve never done this and I have no idea how to go about making a guy like me.”

“He already likes you, if he asked you out, right?” Hen says. “So focus on that. Anything else?”

Buck considers it, tries to loosen the tangle of feelings that’s filling up the whole of him right now and lay them out in an orderly way. Hen doesn’t rush him.

“It’s just a lot,” he says eventually, giving up on putting it into words, “and I kinda wish I could switch off my brain for a while.”

“I’m sure. Trust me, all those messy, upsetting emotions will settle down, and then you’re gonna feel really good about it.”

“Oh, I already do,” Buck reassures her. “I mean, I did last night even, right after it happened. And now, still. Just kind of… illuminated on the inside. That sounds weird, doesn’t it?”

Hen shakes her head, then puts her arms over his shoulders and jerks him into a tight hug. Buck returns it gratefully, glad to find an anchor in this crazy day, at last. When Hen speaks again, close to his ear, her voice is uncharacteristically wobbly.

“That’s the joy, Buck,” she says. “That’s the joy of it. And that’s what makes the struggle all worthwhile.”

[thessalian]

Thess vs MCM Comic Con, Day 3

So before I start with the rundown of today, I will say this:

It was worth it.

I may not entirely believe that now, when everything fucking hurts and the stress and frustration of that level of people and noise and exertion and pain is still pretty much flattening me? But I know it was. The memory of how worth it this was will stay fresh long, long after the pain of the actual doing of it is gone.

So. Anyway. Day 3. Starting from after I made sandwiches and prepped to get an exchange on my d20-less gold sparkly dice.

We managed to get there in good time for the Critical Role panel. Now, obviously not in good time to get a seat in the main stage area where they were actually doing the panel, but giving it some thought, we didn't really want to be there anyway. We'd already been up close and personal with the Critical Role crew; we didn't need more than that. Plus the noise would have been way, way too much. So instead, we went over to one of the stages that was streaming the panel on their big screen. Which was better because the camera crew zoomed in when a question was directed at a particular person so we actually got to see them. And the panel was really good. It was so endearing when an audience member asked how they managed the whole thing with being business partners and friends and they talked about how Matt insists that they all hang out just as friends outside of the game space and the business space, and how Travis is this really supportive protective Big Poppa Bear of a CEO, and how it's easier with a group of friends than it is with a two-person partnership or trio because you've got people who can step in and mediate when tempers run a bit high ... and most of all when Ashley said she literally didn't know what she'd do without them (and then had to hand off the mic because she was about to start crying) and Sam said how he really just wanted them to be doing this - being the friends and family they'd become - for the rest of their lives ... and to wear a T-shirt with Matt's face on it at Matt's funeral. I honestly have zero worries about Critical Role LLC and its potential effects on their friendship. Seems like they're doing just fine.

There were no problems with taking my dice back. Thankfully, I got the same guy who sold them to me in the first place, though given the ambient noise and low light levels in the area, it was a bit of a struggle to get him to understand the problem. When he finally understood, he did go the extra mile finding me a replacement set. I repaid that kindness by stopping him when he went to put the dice set I was returning back into the box of merchandise for display / sale. Didn't want him to go through that again, y'know?

(Side note: turns out that the little golden shinies in my Alisaie-themed dice set are, in fact, small golden capital As. That's serendipity on a ridiculous level, right there.)

After that ... I admit it all caught up to me and on top of the body aches, spasms, and migraine, I remembered just how difficult it is to wander a convention hall with someone whose interests in terms of art and entertainment kind of vary from yours. So I suggested to Marion that we split up for an hour and a half, and meet up somewhere to devour lunch and see where we were going from there. I browsed a bit, but mostly I just found a place to sit down and watch the cosplay go by. I mean, I did make an attempt to go outside, partly for a smoke but mostly for someplace where I could be more than two feet away from any human being ... but it had started to rain and so I still ended up crammed under the awnings with my fellows who also wanted fresh air and/or nicotine.

By the time I met up with Marion again, I was getting to that "I am struggling to form coherent sentences" level of migraine, holding it at bay with some co-codamol that I took with the first can of A&W root beer I've had in years, and it was just what I needed, thank you. So we scarfed down lunch. I was honestly ready to leave right then, but Marion wanted one last turn-around to look for a couple of things she hadn't spotted in her first trip. I couldn't really deny her that no matter how much I wanted to go home, so we agreed to meet up in about an hour at the "Reset Room" (they had a room especially designed for people who just needed to decompress; probably the most useful thing they actually did in terms of accommodations, I have to say).

In that time, I caved and bought a copy of Flavours of the Multiverse - a D&D themed cookbook. It wasn't my only purchase of the day, mind you. I also got three pin-badges - one "That's How I Roll" one, one "Shiny Math Rocks" one ... and one that just reads "They/She". That and a "They/Them" nonbinary flag-coloured lanyard. At least there, I could wear those things without being too afraid. Anyway, after my few purchases and another trip outside (where, thankfully, it had stopped raining), I read my new cookbook until Marion rejoined me and we headed home. Unfortunately, on top of all the stairs at London Bridge and Elephant and Castle stations, there were a surprising number of people cramming themselves on the 363 at 5pm on a Sunday. So my Time of Squishening unfortunately got a little bit extended. Still, I am now home and have had coffee and more painkillers and I feel a bit better.

That was probably my last MCM Comic Con. It's definitely the last one I go to for all three days. The accommodations were insufficient (though in all fairness, that's entirely down to the organisers - the stewards were so nice and tried so hard to make things work when it was clear that the original organisational scheme was a shit-show), and the attendees ... well, most of them were really nice but I cannot count how many people I had to nearly throw myself at a wall to avoid because they were walking through a crowded convention hall while looking at their phones. Or just anywhere but straight in front of themselves. And public transport ... well, some of that "step-free access" is only on a technicality, put it that way, and it's actually easier to just struggle with the stairs if you can. I think the worst part of this has been that it's basically opened a window on another part of how hard my life is going to be now.

But never mind. I'm going to decompress a bit. I am going to make breakfast-for-dinner in the form of French toast and bacon, I am going to sit Marion down through the rest of Arcane, and I am going to enjoy my last evening with my houseguest. And at some point I am going to look into the work of the Hire A Bard guy I saw at the convention, who will set your character and/or campaign to music for a fee. This might be worth considering as a Christmas gift (however delayed) for the Cupcake Coterie.

Anyway. Yeah. I hurt. I am very much not at my best. But it was worth it.

[kats-chaotic-wonderland]

The tiny town of Merin Falls [Part 1]

(this is repost of my original reddit story so it's still structured for reddit. TW: mentions of blood, violence, gore, assault, and stalking. Nothing too graphic, but this is the set up for a horror story.)

Today had been a pretty slow day, so when I eventually found myself on Reddit, I whittled away my shift by reading through some of the posts in this particular sub. As I was on some post, about fifteen stories in, my coworker pointed out that some of the stuff we've seen would probably be interesting for some of you here. He suggested that I put a few of the more...bizarre? Creepy? I guess horrific? Stories about weird shit that happens in our small new England town.

So, as I'm sure you've heard before, I'll start by saying I live in a small town. It's settled in the northeast, a ways up from the Bridgewater triangle, and on the hill above a small bay. It's old, and has a history of witch trials and war battles. If you've ever seen a horror or Hallmark movie you've seen a town just like it. From calm summers to colorful falls, with old Victorian homes settled in old neighborhoods, complete with soccer moms and honor roll kids. This place is chock full of the American dream.

For context, we're small for this area. Like really small. One school, town square, a few neighborhoods, some mom and pop shops. We have a few docks down at the bay, but nothing bigger than a small motor boat. We do have one guy who lives on his boat, but it's a single room ship. Officially our population is about 1000-1500 on a good year. Unofficially, we stand about 2000 consistently. We'll talk about why at a different time, for now I just wanted to put it in your mind how small we're actually talking.

This place looks and operates like a normal New England town on the surface. Of course, I wouldn't be here if it actually did. There's a lot wrong with this tiny town of Merin Falls.

I spent a while today rolling around in my brain for what story really works for a start. See, we get a lot of weird, dangerous, unexplainable stuff out here. But starting off with true horror is a bit of a challenge. After six years, and for some other reasons, I’ve become a bit numb to some of what happens here. Not all, but some, and the ones that stick with me really aren’t something I want to dredge up just yet. But after some thought, I settled on one that I think will serve as a good look into what living here is like.

The day in question was a pretty typical day, maybe four or so years ago? I had gone into work, had a total of four customers. I remember because Iian still has a polaroid of each one tucked away and dated in his portfolio. This is one reason I started to hang around with him, his need to take way too many photos means I have easy access to memory triggers. But we’ll talk about that on a different day. For now all that matters is I had four customers. Holly Baker, came in the early hours right at open, she bought three binders, a sharpie, and a roll of yellow duct tape. I rang her up with no issue, my coworker Iian took her photo as she was checking out. She left and we were dead until around four o’clock. That was when Mrs. Miller came in with her rat dog and her spineless husband.

Mrs. Silvia Miller, is a rather irritating thorn in my side. From my first day working here she’s come in at least once a week in order to make snide comments about my appearance or moral choices, and make laughably bad attempts to return items she never purchased. She’s every retail worker's nightmare. (And no, unfortunately this is not the story about her being a horrible monster) Her antics have gotten so bad over the past six years that we have rules specifically for her. I’ll explain them in more detail in a later post, but she’s not allowed to shop when it’s just me on shift. We do not accept returns from her. Ever. And all of her receipts have a stamp that says “Non returnable. All sales are final.” These rules extend to her husband, a short stumpy man who looks like a frog next to his witch of a wife. As well as her kids, on the off chance they take the time to visit the old crone.

I remember this interaction clear as day, without the need for a trigger. Silvia had come in ranting and raising holy hell about some folders she had purchased from Arthur, on a day when I wasn't working. I listened to her diatribe as she gestured rapidly with her free hand, her faux pearl bracelet looking like it was going to snap off her knobby wrist. After five or so minutes I just stopped her, took her receipt, and pointed at the massive hot pink stamp that was glowing in the black light. With a look that I can only describe as, complete and utter entitled bitch bafflement, the look a Karen gets when the manager doesn't give them free stuff. She turned up her crooked hooked nose and snatched the receipt. Then she turned on her heels, a cheap pair from the thrift shop, of which she had painted the soles red with what I can only assume was cheap spray paint. Then with the fury of a western wind, headed for the door in a huff. Her shaking bug eyed rat and amphibious husband in tow. The former clutched in her cheaply manicured claws, and the latter being dragged by the scruff of his threadbare suit. The Millers are what you would call high class white trash.

The third customer was a guy I can't remember, but since Iian has a photo with the same date, I'm gonna assume he was there. From the photo, I can see he was an inch or so taller than me, gaunt face with some dark stubble, thin lanky limbs, and curly dark hair down to his shoulders. He was wearing some casual shorts and a tee shirt, and….round Ozzy Osbourne sunglasses indoors….for some reason. What strikes me as off on this one, is we have a lot of photos of him, but Iian doesn't remember ever taking them. And, for my weird memory issues, I can't bring up a single image of him in my mind if I'm not looking at a photo. It's like he just blinks from existence when we look away. There's a lot of photos of him actually….I wonder if he’s a regular? I’ll check the cameras for him at some point.

The last customer came in just before close. I call her Thelma, but I don’t actually know her name. She’s not local, but she is a regular. For whatever reason she drives out to this podunk to buy her music sheets from us. Thelma is always dressed in a similar outfit, just different colors and patterns. Always a top with 3/4 sleeves, a skirt that fits her closely but not tight that ends at the ankle in a ruffle. Sunglasses, sometimes she keeps them on. And her wiry gray hair is always up in some clip ponytail, updo thing. The top is always solid or stripes, and the skirt is always some kind of floral. Her shoes are either sandals, heels, flats, or sneakers. I wish I had more to say about her, but she never says much. Just comes in, wordlessly gets her blank sheets, checks out, pays cash, and bails. She did the same thing that day. Not a word more than needed, sunglasses on the whole time. Have I mentioned my store is lit up mostly by black lights? Yeah she makes no sense to me. But she doesn’t cause problems so I like her well enough. After Thelma left Iian and I cleaned up, locked up, and he headed home. We waved as I was taking my key from the door. We go in opposite directions, save for the off day when he walks my way with me so he can stay with Ryan for the night. That night was not one of those nights.

So there I was walking alone. It was a warm night and I was in a pretty good mood after everything that day. I’d made it a good six blocks when a car pulled up next to me. They rolled up real slow and kept pace with me. I didn’t give them any attention. Instead the hand on my opposite side was reaching for the knife I keep on my belt. I have a few on me at all times, I lived on the road for a while before I landed here. You figure out a lot about how to keep yourself safe in places like truck stops and roach motels. My knives won't save me from a bullet, learned that the hard way. But guns are rare in this area, instead kidnapping and other person on person crime is higher. But when they rolled their window down and I heard a whistle, my eyes just rolled.

Travis Heartly was the star of the football team back when he was in high school, now he was a community college drop out who could not understand the word no. Or fuck off. Or I will stab you and not feel bad in the slightest. He’d taken a liking to me just a few weeks after I had moved to Merin Falls. Unfortunately for him, I had sworn off guys. Not love, just guys. After getting abused three times in a row, I realized that me and guys romantically just don’t work. Travis didn’t get the memo apparently. He would come into my shop, near daily, and ask me out. Waste my time with his small town bragging. Act like a general Neanderthal. When Luther finally had enough and banned him from the store, he just started waiting outside for me to leave. Wait in my favorite coffee shop, bar, library, you name it he stalked it. His car was an old beat up sedan his mom gave him. He cleared out the back and put a bed in there. Needless to say that didn’t help his case when he busted into the shop excited to show me his new ride.

This car he was in however, was a rather nice Lexus. He was still beside me, calling out for my attention. I of course would not be giving him any. So he opted instead to move up the block and park right in the next street I needed to cross. Because of this move, the idiot gave me enough time to pull my larger blade from my boot. It's a good three inches longer than the belt knife, and an inch broader. See, my boots are clunky steel toed work boots. I don’t really need them, but old habits die hard, and hold big knives. I stopped a few yards away as he got out. We were close in age, though he had a good two years on me, but I had about six inches on him so I guess we're even. Still, after his flunk out, he’d taken up booze and dropped his work out. So his once toned body was slowly fading into the start of a beer belly and unkempt stubble.

He closed the door and leaned against the car,”Hey! How was work?”

“Leave me alone Travis.”

His expression dropped,”Come on, what did I do? Was it the roses? Look I just thought maybe-”

“Oi.” I cut him off, ”Shove it. I’m not interested. Now beat it.”

“Come on Am.” his voice was pitiful. He had his choice of girls when I moved here. He was pretty, young, fit, and locally famous. But when he clung to the freaky new girl, they all moved on after a year or so. A fair amount of his classmates were hooked up with someone new. Iian liked to gossip about his school a lot at work. In a small place like this most of the kids never really leave. But, his problems weren’t my issue.

“Move.” I ordered

He was looking at me like I’d just kicked a puppy.

“Fine.” I started to cross to the far side of the street. He panicked and ran toward me, closing the distance in a moment as he grabbed my upper arm. He'd learned not to try and grab my forearm. I always hold my knives down, with the bunt to my arm, blade out. In the event I need to block, or get grabbed from behind it's quicker to defend myself. Think Rambo or Hunter from the bad batch. Say whatever you want, but it's saved me more times than I want to admit.

“Wait!” he pleaded,”Please just one chance! I promise, I can-”

I ripped my arm away and rounded around with my free hand. The fist collided with his nose, I felt a crunch and heard a bone snap. Travis stumbled back and grabbed his now gushing nose. Tears welled and fell in rivulets as he looked at me in shock.

“I told you not to fucking touch me.” I spat and stepped back several feet. I kept my eyes locked on him and my guard up,”Try that shit again and I’ll do worse than break your nose. When a woman tells you no for two straight years, believe me she is not going to change her mind dumbass.”

He just looked at me, tears and blood running down his face. I’d always told him no. No maybes, no waffling. Always a direct no. And I’d put up with his stalking, but he’d never touched me before. This time he crossed a line he hadn’t realized was there. The look in his eyes was either rage, or passion. And I really didn’t want to know which. He’s the kind of guy who wants a woman to ruin his life. I guess he thought I would fit that bill.

He was right, but not in the way he wanted.

This standoff lasted for maybe a minute before headlights came slowly up behind us. Travis made the connection before I did. He saw the red and blues and bailed off into his Lexus. I watched him peel out from where he had been. I didn’t move until officer Lison parked and stepped out of his car. I lowered my knife and slid it into my boot as he walked over to me.

“Amber? Was that Travis I just saw?” he asked, he sipped on his coffee, getting a few drops caught in the edge of his salt and pepper mustache.

I turned and rubbed my hand, it was bruising from where I had punched him,”Yeah. He tried to grab me when I went to walk away this time.”

“Shit.” Lison chuffed with a bushy browed scowl,”What an ass.”

His reaction was so flippant, I just...I busted out laughing,”That’s all you got Boris?”

“What?” he asked confused,”He is. Plus he’s getting thrown in lock up tomorrow anyway.”

This made my laughter stop, it was my turn to be confused,”What did he do now?”

Another sip of his coffee,”Grand theft auto.” he shrugged,”Lexus was stolen from a lot east of town. That's why I stopped.”

“You’re kidding.” I asked slack jawed.

“Nope. I don’t think he even realized he was on camera.”

“So what? He just took it in hopes of a date night?”

“Looks like it if he was here for you. He’s a desperate man.” he shook his head,”Wanna lift home?”

I thought about it for a second,”Sure. Thanks Boris.”

We hopped in his cruiser, and made light conversation for a few blocks. Three blocks from my house though, a call came over the radio. Some mix of cop lingo and garbled static that I couldn't really understand. He did though, Boris looked concerned and stopped the car. He gave me a look I couldn’t really place,”Look, kiddo. I gotta respond on this one, but it’s back that way,” he gestured behind us,”It’s an all night type deal. Are you good for the last few blocks?”

I nodded,”Yeah, you go do what you gotta man. Thank you for the help, and the ride.”

“Any time Amber.” He nodded, his face looked a bit forlorn,”You should be safe from here, but be careful.”

“Always.” I smiled as I slid out of the cruiser, my boots hit the pavement and I walked behind the car to the sidewalk. Boris took off a moment later, back down the way we had come.

I should have asked how he knew Travis wasn’t around. I know now that's what he meant when he said I was safe. The look in his eyes should have clued me in, but I just figured it was part of whatever call he had gotten. I was right. Doesn’t make it easier for him though.

He’d get six calls of the same nature that night. And he wasn't the only one, a total of twenty eight similar calls came in one after another. None of them could be explained. He still blames himself for the two that survived, and the rest that didn't.

Boris Lison had lived in Merin Falls his entire fifty seven years of life. And he’d known Travis for all twenty one years of his. He’d been close with the football star's grand dad. But after his spiral, the officer just felt bad for the kid. That made it hard for poor Boris to pick him up off the pavement that night. The official story was that he crashed the Lexus into the retainer wall because of his erratic behavior. Some of the officers even insinuated that it was on purpose after my rejection and breaking his nose. That he had finally snapped and tried to end it all. Claiming mental illness was easier than trying to explain the gaping hole in his chest. Or how he had been dragged out of the car through the back windscreen. How he ended up a good half mile from the car. Or why he was frozen almost cryogenically with his heart yanked halfway out of his ribcage by the time Boris had found him. How he survived for the following week is beyond all of us. Not that he was any help in explaining anything. By the time I was ready to leave the hospital myself the following week, Travis tried to use his bed sheets and window for his own way out. I can’t say I blame him. I probably would have done the same after what happened. He spent the next two years in the Merin Falls psych ward. His time there was a horror show of its own.

What happened that night scarred a lot of people in this town. Unfortunately, myself included, both physically and mentally.

Boris had just gotten out of sight and I started making my way down the block. My body was still on high alert from my encounter with Travis. Every noise, flash of headlights, each passing car made me freeze. I'm not a skittish person. Anxious sure, but it's a quiet anxious. Not jumpy. Something in the air had me on edge. It felt like each step dragged me through a slurry of static and shaved ice.

My feet trudged onward. Alarm bells flagged in my brain, each thud of my heart sent a scream from the back of my mind. They all called me to turn and run. But….I didn't.

I should have.

The further I went the worse the feeling of unease got. Then, after a block, I saw something. A dark figure crossed the street ahead of me. I watched as it moved from my side to the other, then back again. Stopping in my tracks, my brow furrowed. It was like looking at something dipped in Vantaa black. My brain wanted to warp around it, like it was a void between two images that should be touching but weren't.

The way it moved, it wasn't….it wasn't right. Like a shadow blinking in and out of existing, but never moving all at the same time. I was frozen the moment my eyes caught it. My skin prickled as ice slinked in a slurry through my veins. I could feel the sludge crawling up the back of my neck as the thing turned to me. Whatever this was, I wasn't supposed to have seen it.

Thoughts raced in my mind, 'I've dealt with weird shadows before, if I tell it to leave it should right?'

'No wait, why isn't my mouth moving?'

'Hold on why can't I mo- wait is it getting closer!?'

A scream was lost in the void of my throat as I realized that the creature was moving in static flashes toward me, or was it? It was close, then it was miles away, a few yards, miles and miles, feet, then inches.

‘Shit!’

Freezing blood pounded in my ears as this...this thing...I couldn’t form a real thought as it neared me. What should have been it's face, instead just a chasm of inky blackness, was inches from mine. If it had eyes I couldn't see them. But I could feel them. It felt like a numbness trailing over me as it tried to understand what I was. Panic clutched my chest as the numb feeling hovered over my heart. The ice in my veins rushed to the center of where it was staring. A choked groan seeped from my throat as I felt the muscle in my chest freeze to a halt.

'How am I even still breathing?'

'Wait...am I?'

I couldn’t tell anymore.

It’s arm moved as it flashed back several feet again. Looking at this thing hurt. Like I was watching a game character glitch in and out as it tried to move. Just rapid, glitchy, morphing, shapes of shadow. It looked humanoid, but entirely not at the same time. Raising its arm I felt cold static touch the skin over my heart. My top was probably fucked, but I quickly didn’t care as I felt it slowly pushing it's claws into my flesh. I couldn’t scream. Gods I wanted to. I wanted to cry out in pain and terror. This creature was ripping my chest open. Claws in the shape of a perforated circle were digging, boring their way to my heart. Determined to remove the icy lump of muscle and sinew from where it was caged in bone.

Silent tears rolled down my cheeks, so hot they burned like flames as they fell. As they left blazing trails, it occurred to me as the heat faded, I couldn’t feel anything but the pain in my chest anymore. A sickening ‘*CRACK’* sent a new wave through my body. White spots floated and flitted around the edge of my eyes. Like sick fairies drawn to the scent of blood. This thing was taking it's time.

It enjoyed watching me suffer. Frozen in fear and pain.

The next thought that crossed my mind was so horribly clear,’I’m going to die here.’ I wish I could say I had some awakening and I snapped out of it. Or that in that moment my life flashed before my eyes and I saw the error of some choice in my life. But no. In that moment, alone with that thing, it’s claws reaching for my frozen heart, I just wished for one more moment. The image that did come to my mind just as the white began to take my sight wasn’t something deep, or wise, or heroic. It was a smile. A smile I knew would never look the same if I died. From that day on it would be tinged with sadness. Of not knowing what happened. Maybe she would think I just left. I prayed, for the first time in so many years, a silent thought,’Please, let her hate me. Don’t let her linger. Don’t let her search. Forget me and be happy.’ And that was it.

Everything went white.

I woke up two days later in a hospital bed. The nurse beside me was changing an IV bag. His eyes caught mine as they fluttered open, with a professional manner he told me I was in the hospital and to not move. After calling the doctor and running a few tests. Things like asking me for information, grip strength tests, stuff like that. They told me what happened. Just as I passed out, before I was gored by a shadow thing, Ryan had found me. He said I was just collapsed on the sidewalk cold, with a ring of stab wounds on my chest. He called 911 and they rushed me to the hospital. I had a few cracked ribs, and they said it was nearly impossible that all of the stabs had missed major arteries. But it wasn’t. That thing wanted me alive to the last second. Ryan found me two hours after I left the shop.

It had frozen me there for two hours.

I was in the hospital for recovery for a few days. Iian and Ryan checked in on me every day. Arthur and Luther came by a few times too. They even paid for my bills. I really love them so much. I don’t know where I’d be without them all. Once I was released, Iian stayed with me till he believed I wouldn’t keel over. Within two months I was healed up, a perfect ring of five exactly matching scars, centered right over my heart. As soon as the doc cleared me, which took a bit, she’s a thorough woman. I was in the tattoo parlor the next day getting a new piece to accent my new scars. That thing tried to kill me. But, I’m no coward. I was scared shitless, I’d only felt fear like that once before that day. Despite that, I lived. Somehow. So I’m owning it. Just like the one on my back. My shoulder. The bullet scar in my thigh. And the bands around my wrists.

Each scar is a memory. Each tattoo, a way to take back control in a small way. Every horror story leaves a scar of some kind. Mine were physical this time. Next time maybe we’ll look into the ones on my mind. But for now Iian is bugging me to check in, I didn't realize how long I've been typing. I’m Amber Haze, and I’ll be back soon with more from the tiny town of Merin Falls.

Master post

Horror master post

Navigation post

Part 2

[burnwater13]

Grogu had some questions about starship design. He’d been thinking about it recently and he just didn’t understand why the ships looked the way they looked. Sure, the outsides always looked cool covered in spikes and windows and stuff like that, but why were the insides so poorly lit?

It was like the people who designed them hadn’t even considered that the folks working in them might need to see what they were doing. Would anyone really do that? Just make something so poorly because as long as they weren’t on it, that didn’t matter?

Then of course the other thing he found strange, as he looked back on his experience with starships in general, was that they always seemed to have places for people to kind of hide. Not actually, really hide, but at least take some cover? Was there a purpose for that? It seemed kind of wasteful. They seemed like choices you made when you knew some percent of the time that people would need cover and that percent was really high. But then, why not improve overall security? There was probably a deeper problem that wasn’t being addressed. 

Of course, now that he was thinking about all the problems with starship design, he realized that most of the ships he’d been on were either made for the Empire or had been built before the Empire had even existed. So many had been designed by people who thought they could never be attacked or by people who had largely lived during times of peace. Huh. The same sides of different credit bars…

Setting aside for a moment that Imp vessels seemed to expect on board fighting, what with providing all that notional cover, both Imp and pre-Imp vessels were nothing but hard surfaces and sharp angles. Grogu wondered how many members of the crew reported to the medical bay for treatment of contusions and abrasions? That had to be a pretty high percentage. 

After all, regular uniforms offered no protection and trooper armor was almost as fragile. Plus, it had been Grogu’s experience that as covered up as you might be, the thing that you stubbed your toe on or hit your elbow on was always positioned to do just that. No armor could protect areas it didn’t cover. He had complained at the Mandalorian about that more than once. 

Even the Razor Crest didn’t have great lighting. It had lots of sharp corners, that skinny ladder to the bridge, the slippery floors, everything that made it hard for people of any size or form to traverse the space without whacking themselves on something. Grogu wondered how many of the Mandalorian’s scars were from scraping his arms or legs against stuff after polishing the floor. Probably a bunch of them. 

Grogu had gotten a tiny cut on his hand once just peeking down from the hatchway to the lower deck because the diamond plate hadn’t been de-burred. He healed it with the Force, so no need to worry about him, but Din Djarin couldn’t do that. Plus Mandalorians really seemed to like their scars.

Uff. That was true. Mandalorians did like their scars. Grogu had tried to count all the scars on Din Djarin's hands and arms once, but he had reached a pretty high number and that started to make him sad. He asked the Mandalorian if he knew how many scars he had and the Bounty Hunter had replied ‘No’ pretty quickly. Grogu figured he was pretty embarrassed at the number and said so. 

Din Djarin had gotten pretty annoyed at that comment.

“Because you can count a thing doesn’t mean you should.”

Grogu had sighed. That was true. Should he really count all the ways that starships were designed to hurt the people they were supposed to protect? Probably not. Just counting them didn’t do anything. If he wanted people to stop getting hurt by the bad design choices he could either fix the problems as they arose, or he could help his dad select a new starship. Something that was all rounded and smooth, where a lot of attention had been paid to making the interior of the ship user friendly. 

Sure, the rate at which the Mandalorian collected scars would go down, but Grogu was willing to trade that off for an interior with softer surfaces and better lighting. The only question was could they really find a pram that the Mandalorian would fit in?

[interwovenrhapsody]

THE HERRSCHER OF BALANCE AWAKENS (PART 2) - 6.4 SPOILERS

There was a problem using the Tower of Babil. With Anima and the destruction of the Garlemald Empire, there were so many fresh wounds that would trigger a trauma response. To this end, they had to request the help of Alphinaud and Alisaie. Talking to the people seemed like the only way, but.

Only one person seemed in favour of it. The rest didn't want it activated because of the evil it spread. It just went from bad to worse, with the Garleans saying that activating it again was out of the question. How the hell were they supposed to get the aether to the moon, then?? Though they were given access to the area where the politicians lived, there wasn't much to do.

To do or say. This whole plan hinged on being able to use the Tower of Babil. All the back and forth was getting tiring. What if she just... transported the aether there herself? Or was that not possible...? Although things got rocky for a bit, Varshahn had come up with an idea that would benefit Radz-at-Han and Garlemald both. This idea was pitched to the two leaders, with one running off after the other had thought it was a good idea.

Rescuing Mettius hadn't been too hard, and he was thankful after Jullus gave him a talking-to. And, after Zero and Jullus talked and forged friendship through a handshake, they returned to Teritium to see a lot of people listening to Mettius and Maximus talk. The trade agreement was told to all, and Melanie hummed to herself. If this was what they could do, then who was to say she couldn't do this when she returned to Kiana's side?

Entrusted with Azdaja's eye as Varshahn would return to being Vrtra to cross the "great expanse", Melanie prepared herself to head to the moon again. Sinus Lacrimarum was the destination, and she took a breath before focusing her aether on that point, using the aetheryte to transport her being there instead of just using a portal.

Arriving after Urianger and Zero, Melanie noticed they had been caught up by a familiar face-- Kiana. How had she gotten to the Moon? No, how did she get to Etheirys? Hadn't she been sleeping? According to the timeline she was aware of, it would've been only a few hours since she left, though here it was about a couple weeks...

❝ Melanie, thine friend is worr- ❞ Urianger was cut off as Melanie was slammed into with the force of a thousand Neko-Chans. Kiana's normally bright blue eyes were brimming with angry tears as she glared up at Melanie.

❝ How could you just leave like that! ❞ Kiana practically screamed at her. ❝ Not waiting for me to wake up, only leaving a note! You could've been dead for all I know, and you don't even wake me up?! Do you know how scared I was for you?! ❞

❝ Kiana, I... ❞

❝ No, you shut up and listen! Next time you want to wander off, at least wake me up and tell me to my face! I almost lost Bronya and Fu Hua, I can't lose you too... ❞

Melanie gave a sigh, pulling Kiana into a hug. ❝ ...You're right. I'm sorry, Kiana. I... wasn't thinking. ❞

❝ I forgive you!! ❞ Kiana wiped her eyes after being let go. ❝ But I'm not leaving until whatever you have to do is done! I'm staying right here. ❞

❝ Okay... Let me catch you up on what we're doing, then. ❞ Catching her up on what was going on was easy. She seemed a little confused on the terminology, but that was fine. All she needed to know was that they planned on going to the Thirteenth by creating a portal on the Moon.

❝ A friend of yours, I presume? ❞ Y'shtola asked, upon seeing the new face. Melanie nodded.

❝ Girlfriend, actually. This is Kiana Kaslana. She'll be joining us on our mission. ❞

❝ We'll be grateful for any extra hands. ❞ And this was followed with the conversation about restoring the brands that held Zodiark for so many years. They would keep the Voidsent at bay while they went on their rescue mission. Melanie, Kiana and Urianger were given the task of getting the Loporrit's help. Though Kiana was, undoubtedly, charmed by how cute they were, there wasn't much time for her to coo over how cute they were.

After a demonstration to make the supporters voidsent-slaying bots, the message from Y'shtola came in.

It was time.

[maisiedemars]

BIOGRAPHY | MUSINGS

BASICS.

character name: maisie linh demars  

age & dob: march 28th, 2000 (23)

gender identity & pronouns: female, she/her/hers

sexual orientation & relationship status: questioning, single

residential area: ocean crest apartments

occupation: social media influencer

length of time in aurora bay: all her life

traits: affable, self-doubting

faceclaim: lana condor

FAMILY.

mother: leyna demars (neé nguyen)

father: rocco demars (deceased)

siblings (wc): kai demars (brother, 33)

TL;DR.

aurora bay native and youngest child to a t, you might recognize maisie demars from a tik tok fyp near you!

BIOGRAPHY.

tw death

many people would assume that the hefty age gap between maisie and her older brother, kai, was the product of an unplanned pregnancy

in actuality, maisie wasn't a surprise pregnancy, but leyna and rocco demar's last chance to have another child before it would be deemed unwise to do so--a use it or lose it type of situation

having spent ten years thinking their son was to be their only child, the demars (leyna, specifically) had put all their best efforts into shaping kai into being the ideal heir of the family

it's not to say that no effort was made with maisie, but whereas kai had been easily molded to their expectations, she'd always seemed to have marched to the beat of her own drum, much to their mother's frustration

she was not immune to that nagging feeling in the back of her mind that she was lagging behind, both riding the coattails and hiding in the shadows of her brother's successes--and if she were somehow able to forget it, her mother was always right there to remind her

her dad was both her crutch and her saving grace, there to shield her from the worse of her mother's criticisms, and to bail her out of various committments or extracurriculars she found herself involved in and no longer wished to be. he was her best friend, and biggest supporter.

did well in high school, well liked and able to get along with just about anyone, tried on different cliques and clubs like they were hats...but at the end of those four years, she was nowhere even close to knowing what it was she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

it was her dad who'd suggested community college in order to appease her mother's desire for her to see some higher education, and the first year had gone fine enough--until two months shy of the end of the semester saw rocco being taken from them unexpectedly.

maisie's world shifted on its axis. never had she imagined a world without her father in it, not one where she was still young, not one where she still needed him. it was devastating, and left her feeling even more lost than before. she subsequently dropped out of school for the next semester.

somewhere in this grieving period did she start turning towards social media as a distraction. posting silly little videos that got no views, tweeting into the void...she couldn't explain it, but something about it helped, made her feel better.

she continued to live at home for the next few years, moving out only six months ago after no longer being able to deal with her mother and brother, who’d returned since their father’s death; slowly clawing her way to an associates degree in communications, working at the movie house theater, and falling in love for the first time.

...and it was breaking up for the first time that turned maisie's silly little hobby into a career, after a tik tok she'd made ugly crying about it went viral. her subscribers had gone from 10's to 1,000's what seemed like overnight, and as she kept the content coming, and the numbers kept rising...she began to feel, for the first time, that maybe this could be something to see through.

six months later, and maisie's just quit her job at the theater in order to pursue content creation full time!

HEADCANONS.

her sexuality is questioning as in questioning if she's even into men at all

still trying to find her "image", but so far her tik toks consist mostly of day in my life/what i eat in a day's and food reviews! maybe a recreation of customer interactions from the movie house every now and again, or imitating her mother.

is so used to lying to her mother about things that, at this point, she lies about the most inconsequential things, like what she ate for breakfast

isn’t in love with the idea that this all started because of her and lorelai’s breakup (it feels exploitative and also hurts to have to keep living through), and is definitely trying to shy away from that kind of content, even if it’s what drew people to her page in the first place

CURRENT CONNECTIONS.

current roommate (and lying to her mother about it) to @majorwalker

former roommate but better off as friends in separate homes with @pearlwestbrook

made a tiktok about her breakup with @lorelailewis and went viral

made @silascody's viral prison hooch and almost threw up

enlists @benniesimpson to be her fake roommate when her mother comes over

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

older brother

cousins

a few best friends

childhood friends/classmates

friends who used to be close but had a falling out

weed smoking/drinking buddies

frequent movie theater goers

community college classmates

tik tok mutuals or collaborators or fans

maybe an unserious ex or two from high school?

neighbors

tinder dates/hookups/one night stands

@aurorabayaesthetic

[the-firebird69]

It's a huge number of these girls that say they figured the DNA of and they can't figure out what it is and their husbands don't want them to know and they're saying you're holding a secret they found out about the AI today I said that's another one so they're questioning them and they use professional methods and they're doing it on Guantanamo Bay and out of the miles of the man are coming to most disgusting things the max I've ever heard so the max grabbed them after they say thank you to the ladies and we'll take it from here and they found out a few things they're extremely mean to them they're taking out their losses on them and they're trying to clone on the island like madness and the clones are keeping the Peace by competing and what's funny is it too pretty good size groups and they may knock each other out and we've been left with the Amazonia and Mac interjected a little it's possible even though it is somewhat humorous. But they're mad and they should be and they're saying it too out loud is sticking in me just for joy you're having a good time and I can't stand you your breath stinks you're mean and there's something wrong with your wee wee all the time it's shooting yellow stuff out and they don't want to have anything to do with them so they started to attack them one night and got beat up pretty bad and someone missing and they had to stop now what they're doing is trying to separate from them it's not working so good so they're on the island riding and it's working great living freak they're going to be free from them shortly and they'll try and get our son there and the old fashioned way they said just have him buy a ticket so that's going on.

-it's a huge number of them going to Cuba now it's probably 5% of the ones in Florida and usually they're higher ups that's a lot and they did find the ship they see what it's for. And it was Trump and he murdered it's got systems that help you open it it turns his defenses off and shuts down its energy and they were interested in that and she said that they help design it because they want to use his stuff and have to use something depending on people with and it's working and that was his case now that means an idiot and he's going to die one. We're moving on to another topic that what he's saying is funny you should have stuck to the shower curtain rings he was selling instead he's selling everything for the same price. Steve Martin looked at him and said don't even say a word or you're dead and it was in the movie he said a word and they skipped the scene cuz he beat the s*** out of him. Steve Martin put his head on the bench and it said it's American weapon x that's what you call it and he hit him and it broke his neck and it was going oh damn and wow that was perfect. People are giving him money and plane tickets and advice and food cards you came up to and said thank you and said good enough not really but okay looked back to make sure it wasn't him..... So it came up and gave him like 20 bucks I could use that. We have more going on

There's a tempest building and is around this area and just the mixed people who are listening to their s*** and can't stand it in any way and Stan said this is what I've been asking you to come in here for he said I can't really handle it anymore. And it has been going on for some time now now they're pissed off and they're in the outskirts and they're screaming and yelling at the retards I said to stop doing that s*** and the retards won't and they're getting beat up very badly and we don't think that the warlock are going to take over the fleet. Well there are rate and it should be so the pouring in and they're getting here and Max are actually coming in so many and things will start to get fixed and it'll be work and money and people getting money and things these people are ridiculous right now there's about 10 million of them coming down the highway and they can get clearance and the more luck cannot and they will help defend the place finally we'll have that extra help and I have been Arnold Mac Daddy and Stan foreigners and us making a stand against the clones and the molar and Stan was in the middle and it was more as terrible it's forced to be now he's supposed to be against them and it won't take long and he's been held hostage here just like her son

Thor Freya

What a hell hole it really this idiots had it and they dumped it it's so weird what a bunch of losers they do feel ashamed some of them but most of them should

Zues

I can't stand it they're all stupid as hell tongue is what to do and one guy stand there for an hour on the corner and I wasn't listening and someone said he told me to do all this stuff I said don't sit there and listen to this idiot so this issuing orders is a higher up so going after his people but he will not stop so I get on the way I said what is this he says it's concentrating on the orders so you start to repeat it I said wait a minute wait a minute I said I think I have a writing let me read it it's going to read it to me since then I won't be able to remember it so you have this insane conversation and he's getting steamed and literally his people are cooking and he can hear them dying it's only a few left because I want you to do Chris like you really should yes it was that mean go down there and do it with him I said eventually I plan to and he don't know now instead of soda him I just going what do you mean I said I am that's what people caught on to they don't need your game it's like I demand it and I heard you where killing you and you won't have any demands about 2 or 3 minutes he said screaming why not all yours will be dead and then you will be. So he's screaming and screaming and smells I'm cooking and they're right at him it goes I guess I'll just die now I guess you will who the hell cares. My husband is screaming you have to die you have to die and you are and it's getting hit and the guys going I had no idea of course not you're dumber than a freaking pot roast so on his way out he said who's giving you that anyways so I have to pay for all my meals nobody gives me a pot roast you a****** start laughing and said we're so cheap or dead he's dying going that's real damn it this sucks and that's it that's how stupid they are

Hera

going on now there is more going on now. Mac is giving orders for his to flush the morlock out of certain activities completely the police and the sheriff are two edition jails prisons and police departments and police agencies this so few left you said just get him out and so they're firing them all and more max are moving in and a huge bunch of coming down from the south to eradicate them from Florida it's Giant and they're going to kick them out of government offices in moments yeah you should probably head home Hera says the last two sentences it's going to be huge she has before and we agree and 2 million Max and they're going to just displace these assholes

Thor Freya

So our friend here said are they going to act like it and they're forcing me to say it and run around looking like them like you have been all day and since it is lousy it's going to be over here shortly

Mac