#the thing only damaged the surface of the eye and that healed relatively easily - the eye is studier than it looks!

[periwinkla]

You know, whenever I need to lift my spirits, I like to remind myself that I actually almost lost an eye once. And there are few things worse than that for me I reckon- I mean, I guess losing both eyes would be a bit worse, but yeah. Basically: During my very first year of art school, I accidentally punched myself in the eye with an umbrella. Yeah.... right into the eye socket. I had just gotten to an event at art school (a watercolor workshop - would love to give a review, but alas I didn't end up attending), and I was sitting down and putting everything back in my bag. It had been drizzling, just a bit, so I had my umbrella to put back. And well... You know those push-the-button-to-open umbrellas? The ones who shoot up right as you push the button??? Yeah. Accidentally pushed the button as I was putting it back. It shot up. Punched me right into my left eye. And you know, I'm bizarre like that, and didn't emit a sound, I was just kinda. shocked. As I got my bearings, I just left the workshop room and went to the bathroom to assess the damage. I think literally no one noticed. Anyway, I couldn't open my eye very well... and I could only see white, like, completely white. Nothing else. Anyway, eventually I went to ask for help to the receptionist, and later a few of my coursemates eventually noticed, and also one of my professors, which seeing me bawling desperately at the idea of never being able to draw anything ever again, had the brilliance to remind me that 'there are one-eyed artists too, don't worry!' and then 'Also, for future reference, please remember to put your hand on top, like champagne bottles, ya know?' ...I'm not even joking. I mean he meant well, that earned a chuckle even - I have a weird sense of humor and he knew. I think I went through all stages of grief at that moment, although very out of order. First shock, then complete desperation, then anger at myself, and suddenly denial mixed with bargaining and I was like 'yea it's no big deal, I'll just go back home in a bit, no one has to know, my eye doesn't need to know either for that matter, it'll get better this is just a bad dream perhaps and I am being overdramatic'.

Well, the thing is, no matter how much you delude yourself, if you suddenly can't see, you can't very well exit a building and go back home like it's nothing, especially if your home is 2ish hours away... Even if it was just one eye, I wasn't able to open the other one very well, because of the pain. Also, even with the very little bit I could get open before it shot back closed on its own accord, I couldn't see well with the 'good' eye either. Anyway, at some point I realized I had to necessarily phone home, so that my mother could come and get me to my eye doctor (I had one because I had worn glasses till the year before when I got eye surgery). My doctor was miraculously in the area (he has multiple offices so thank the lord he was in that particular area). Tbh I have no idea what hour it was, on account of the fact I couldn't see and check the time, I only know it got to the evening (the event was in the afternoon). My doctor, my savior bless his soul, received us at the office at his apartment (I think it wasn't even a work day for him, but I dunno) checked the eye, gave me medicine right there on the spot, gave me other stuff for me to take at home and told me to let him know how I would be doing until a checkup we scheduled. At the checkup a few days after, he told me my eye looked greenish when he examined it the first time (tbh he didn’t appear to be worried about that fact but to be fair I couldn’t see so I can’t assess his bluffing skills to well) but he didn't tell me because he knew I would panic. Good call, he knows me too well. Anyway that very evening/night I was already doing much better. Not perfect, still had a white haze, but the pain had mostly subsided (suppose it was the medicine he gave me) and could do with at least the good eye open. It was good enough that I distinctly remember playing Pokémon UltraSun to distract myself and doing the wormhole minigame (I swear I remember the most useless facts about that day like it was yesterday). Couldn’t read a thing though. The day after, I was drawing again, my eyesight had gotten mostly alright and I just had some difficulty opening it completely on account of the black eye I got (it was. a very very black eye. goth makeup levels. A few days later, a classmate joked saying ‘you could say you got into a fist fight!’ ...I mean I kinda did. With an umbrella though. And the opponent wasn’t the umbrella really but my carelessness.) Anyway....point is… When you almost disable yourself for life of the organ you most care about because you're a careless dum-dum it puts things into perspective. I mean... I need to count my blessings, let’s be honest. If my doctor hadn't been in the area that day, I most certainly would be partially blind today/have very bad eyesight. I haven't owned any push-the-button umbrellas since then. Just to be safe, you know. As for champagne bottles, I don't drink, so there's no risk. Thanks for the warning though, teach. Moral of the story: Don't use push-the-button umbrellas.

[semperintrepida]

100% Relative Humidity

Kassandra had just finished inspecting the fenceline along the back forty when she saw the flash of red — not the orange-red of fire or the arterial red of blood, but the deep bright red of ripe berries, the kind that caught the eye and made the mouth water with imagined sweetness. The berries stood out against a backdrop of Kermit-green leaves the size of her hand, and she grinned with recognition: thimbleberries. Kyra's favorite.

Perfect. She'd been daydreaming about Kyra all day. Kyra, bent over the kitchen table. Kyra, pressed against the bookshelves downstairs. Kyra, splayed across their linen sheets, her skin dusky with arousal, whispering—

Soon. She'd have Kyra in her hands soon enough. She dug out a handkerchief and set to picking, despite the cloudy skies threatening rain, and she was careful to keep from damaging the fragile fruit as she placed them into the sling of fabric. All sorts of berries thrived in Oregon, but the thimbleberry had resisted all attempts at cultivation. Too wild, too graceful to tame, it carried its nature within its delicate flavor. All other berries paled in comparison.

A big handful was all she risked picking — too many in a pile and they'd crush themselves — and then she journeyed through the woods back to the house she and Kyra had built on a hillside overlooking a hollow in the Coast Range, in one of the last stands of wild forest left after the timber companies had clearcut every mountainside and replanted them with nothing but Douglas fir.

There were Doug firs here, yes, but also western red cedars, hemlocks, spruce, and pines, and she'd even found a few Pacific yews scattered across the acreage. After a career of trying to save forests from wildfire, she'd finally gotten some trees of her own.

Raindrops pattered the grass around her as she knocked the sides of her boots against the post at the bottom of the stairs up to the house. Even in Oregon it was rare to see rain so early in August.

Inside the mudroom, the door to the kitchen was wide open, and she shed her boots without making a sound. Kyra was standing at the kitchen sink, humming as she cleaned a paintbrush, and Kassandra crept up behind her, silent in her sock-covered feet. She carefully avoided the squeaky floorboard near the woodstove, then slid her body against Kyra's, pinning her against the counter so she couldn't turn around and deck her after being startled.

"What—" she gasped, then blew out a breath of exasperation. "Did you have to scare me?"

Kassandra smirked. "You'll forgive me, 'cause I have a present for you," she said.

"Oh yeah?"

"Close your eyes and open your mouth."

Kyra did. No hesitation. And Kassandra rewarded her with one of the thimbleberries.

A moment later, she turned around as far as Kassandra's hips let her, her face beaming with delight. "They're finally ripe?"

Kassandra smiled and nodded.

Kyra had a smudge of dark green paint above her brow and another under her chin. "We need to go picking."

"Yep." She held another berry to Kyra's lips. "Maybe tomorrow. Rain's starting up."

Kyra sucked Kassandra's finger into her mouth along with the berry, and she flicked her tongue against the pad of fingertip she'd captured, her warmth erupting into heat. Then she set Kassandra free, gifted her a silky smile, and turned back to the sink.

Kassandra's heart revved up, valves opening wide, the pump coming online. She set the berries on the counter. "Are you done for the day?"

"Yeah." Kyra flicked the brush, the water in the sink milky with paint. She'd spent all day working in her studio. It was once the old machine shed, and they'd knocked out the wall that faced the valley and put in floor-to-ceiling windows. If Kassandra knew mountains and forests by the miles she'd walked across them, Kyra knew how to capture them with paint, in large-scale landscapes of rocky crags and misty woods and still waters.

Ten years they'd been together, as Kassandra worked her way up from her first Hotshot crew to leading a crew of her own, and Kyra began making a name for herself with her paintings. Ten years, but they'd spent much of it apart for months at a time, as Kassandra's crew shipped out to fight fire from Washington to New Mexico. She'd even gone to Australia a couple of times.

There was nothing else like it, the way a wildfire moved like a living thing, how it could be benevolent when contained, or demonic when left to its own devices. And she'd loved her work: the camaraderie of her crew, the challenge of 16-hour shifts over days and nights, the satisfaction of a fire contained. She'd even loved the danger.

But a couple years back, when that deadfall had caught her and nearly taken her arm off above the elbow, Kyra had begged her to quit if her arm didn't come back right.

Her arm healed, almost good as new. She'd always been good at that.

But she still quit anyway.

The wildfires were bigger now, the terrain more rugged, the seasons longer. She used to work for six months at a stretch; now she could work almost year-round if she wanted to. But every shift was a gamble of life and limbs, and Kyra had already spent years waiting for her at home, dreading every phone call.

It was time. Her life was no longer hers alone to risk, not if she wanted to spend a good long chunk of it with Kyra, and she needed her limbs, to do things like slip her hand inside the waistband of Kyra's trousers, to slide along the curve of Kyra's ass, to find the source of Kyra's heat. She'd always been good at that, too.

Kyra was damp and only a little swollen. Disappointing. "You didn't think about me at all today, did you?" she whispered into Kyra's ear, a pout in her voice, milking it for all it was worth.

Kyra's ass pushed back against Kassandra. "I... had to focus." She'd been finishing up a painting, the canvas almost as tall as Kassandra, bound for some rich man's house up in the San Juans. The sale would pay their property taxes for the year.

She'd been working so hard lately. She deserved a reward.

That was something Kassandra could give her. "How about focusing on this?" she said, and she slid her fingers close to Kyra's clit, close, but not quite touching, and grinned when Kyra dropped the paintbrush into the sink and pressed her palms into the countertop.

"Fuck," Kyra said, her voice quivering, and soon her muscles were quivering too, as Kassandra's fingertip set a fireline around her clit and Kyra's body answered with wet, sticky heat.

"Patience, love."

Kyra's laugh was short and incredulous. "Patience? That's rich, coming from—"

She slipped two fingers inside and stole the rest of the thought, and Kyra gasped and rocked her hips in reflex. Kassandra leaned forward and pinned Kyra harder up against the counter, and she buried her face into Kyra's hair, breathing in the toasty scent of her, warm and familiar and perfect...

Then she heard Kyra's voice, saying, "How long can you hold out, really," the burr of it vibrating into her own chest and lodging there as Kyra clenched her muscles tight around Kassandra's fingers.

"Sounds like a challenge," Kassandra said, and her free hand brushed Kyra's hair aside to expose her neck, stroked across her solid shoulder and bicep and forearm down to her hand, and their fingers entwined as Kassandra bent and started branding hot kisses into the arc of her neck. And sometimes it wasn't a kiss — it was the sear of raked teeth, or the burn of suction, Kassandra's wants flaring against her surface.

Oh, how she wanted. The heat in her belly burned along her veins, like fire spreading through tree roots under the forest floor. She wanted to fuck Kyra hard until she came, then fuck her again and again. But the gauntlet had been thrown. How long can you hold out?

Now Kyra was trembling and panting as Kassandra worked her up with short, teasing strokes that climbed but never peaked. But as rarely as Kyra ever begged out loud, her body always did it for her, her mouth falling open, her thighs spreading wide to expose how fucking soaked she was.

Oh, how Kyra wanted, too.

She was so wet that she ran down Kassandra's fingers, pooling in the palm of her hand. Ready and willing. And so Kassandra smiled, flexed her fingers, and...

Stopped.

Outside, it was raining hard enough for fat droplets to splash in through the open window. Kassandra pulled her hand away, her heartbeat doubling up at Kyra's whimpers of frustration, and she reached across the sink and tugged the window closed.

Her hands on Kyra's hips, firm, pulling her around so they stood face to face. A kiss as she loosened buttons, tugged trousers down. And then she lifted Kyra up to sit on the edge of the counter next to the sink, and Kyra stared at her, breathless and flickering.

She ran her hand through Kyra's slick heat, eased the tips of her fingers inside. Kyra sighed and her thighs spilled open wider. Wanting more. God, she was beautiful this way.

Then Kassandra leaned closer so their foreheads touched, and Kyra lifted her arms and circled them around Kassandra's neck, and they breathed each other in, and Kassandra closed her eyes and listened to the surge and splash of her own blood.

"Kassandra?"

"Hmm?"

"If you don't do something in the next two seconds, you're sleeping in the studio tonight."

Kassandra played dumb. "Oh, was there something you wanted?"

Kyra rolled her eyes. "Isn't it obvious?" She always had an attitude when she was being done to.

"Something like this?" Kassandra asked innocently. And she stroked deep deep inside, easily, languidly, until Kyra tilted her head back and let out a moan in perfect counterpoint to the rain drumming against the roof.

Kassandra was retired now. She had all the time in the world, and she made sure Kyra knew it, knew that the stamina that had powered Kassandra up and down mountains while carrying fifty pounds of gear and a chainsaw was now going to keep Kyra right on the edge of orgasm as long as Kassandra wanted.

Rain on the roof, dripping from the eaves, soaking the earth, the air scented with dark rich soil and the musk of need as they moved outside of time. "Oh god," Kyra said at some point, as she wriggled on the countertop, eyes closed, arms a circle of tension around Kassandra's neck. She was close, too close. Kassandra pulled back. Slower now. Not so deep. Feel Kyra quivering around her fingers, feel Kyra want.

All Kyra had to do was say please. She knew it, always had. But she was stubborn, so stubborn that it gave her secret away.

"You love it when I do this," Kassandra said, and then she leaned forward and kissed Kyra, helping herself to that sumptuous mouth while her fingers kept moving in the rhythms of build-up and denial. "I haven't been taking care of you well enough, if you could go all day without thinking about me."

"'s not true."

"Maybe I should wake you up every morning like this." Her fingertips sought the deepest place, that soft, hidden spot, and she lavished it with gentle attention until Kyra was writhing against her. "Work you up so you're just about to come, and then... stop." And she stilled her fingers to match her words.

Kyra buried her face into the side of Kassandra's neck, shuddering into her in long, rolling waves.

"You'd think about me then, hmm?"

Kyra groaned into her skin.

"I like this idea."

Kyra lifted her head and stared at her, eyes dark as loam and filled with pure, naked wanting. Her lips parted, and her mouth moved soundlessly as she breathed, showing flashes of tongue that made Kassandra's clit burn. Later. They'd plenty of time for that too.

Kassandra smiled. "So remember this part," she said, and then she fucked Kyra for real.

It was glorious, the way Kyra arched her back in offering, the way the muscles in her neck and arms corded as she held on tight, the way she cried out with the fierceness of a hawk as she came. She rippled around Kassandra's fingers, her pleasure imprinting itself into Kassandra's skin, and Kassandra pulled her close, held her as she trembled and caught her breath.

"Fuck," Kyra whispered.

"I was planning to," Kassandra said, and she scooped Kyra up from the counter and carried her in her arms.

"Oh yes. More," Kyra said, smiling her slow, silky smile. "But this time in bed."

Kassandra was already on her way.

Part of the Heat Index...

[monochrome-bat]

Just a quick list of all the different brines and where they fit. Mainly just a list I can refer to later but hey if you guys wanna know as well be my guest. If you have any questions about any of them, feel free to ask!

Also slight trigger warning; mentions scars/injuries, mental health issues, (implied) substance abuse and all that.

Klaus

- biologically the youngest. Although he’s technically reaching his thousand year mark, he’s pretty much physically and mentally frozen at very early 20s (we’re talking just barely out of teenage years)

- Survivors guilt to the extreme. Please someone tell him that it’s going to be ok

- His “turning point”, despite being almost centuries ago at this point, is still relatively recent compared to others. As such there’s still a lot of inner turmoil, guilt, fear, distress, and much more. All around just a bundle of mental and emotional issues that he has yet to confront.

- Kind of canon? It’s the same, but just with a different character at a different time

- Has a slight issue with blaze dust

- Doesn’t actually know the extent of his powers just yet

- scar trait; most notably missing finger and part of his leg. Caused by injury that did not have much chance to settle and heal properly. A little roughed up otherwise, with scratches all over. Some accidentally caused by himself. He’s not aware at this point that he can easily come back to life after death, so he’s just hanging on for the moment

Mikael

- in a weird spot. Sort of au, but not really?

- World had long since flooded. Only thing on surface is scattered islands. Major cities are underground instead

- Victorian-esque setting. Both the good and the bad

- Sailor. Used to be in the navy. Still curses like one

- Proud cat dad

- More associated with water and the deep ocean than fire

- His coat comes from his old navy days. It holds enchantments similar to selkie skin. (Aka lets me indulge in mermaid au without having to make separate au)

- Scar trait; permanent Lichtenberg figures. Was struck by conjured lightning (intended to assassinate his brother, hit him instead). Severe nerve damage and limited motor control in his arms

- Has depression and anxiety issues, but can’t really talk about them

- Terrified of storms. Keeps himself knocked out cold during stormy nights

- He prefers to keep his distance in a fight. Competent with elemental abilities, but due to injuries he cannot hold himself in close up combat

Herobrine

- the old bugger who’s still around for some spiteful reason. Kind of wants to just live life as an isolated nether farmer but he still gets dragged into things.

- Lost his name ages ago. The name herobrine is more of a title than anything personal

- Last of his kind

- Probably the closest to actual canon. More so set a bit further into the future

- Has a bunch of sick tattoos, both from aetherial prison and from piglin tribes

- He’s not old. I mean he is, but his appearance is more caused by his body beginning to collapse. His back hurts just thinking of all the stuff he used to be able to do effortlessly

- Raises strider chicks in the nether. Because there the only nice thing in this damn place and you will treat them nicely or else

- Can’t stomach pork. Makes him feel ill looking at it

- Scar trait; apart from old battle wounds, most notable is his eye. It’s still there, but no light emits from it anymore due to blindness

- He misses Steve.

Hero (sci fi au. Still a bit of a work in progress)

- strictly au

- An android originally built a while ago, but was deemed too “alive” and dangerous. After killing a few people (unknown if accidental or not), got his memory drive wiped and was dismantled. Was actually being transported for scrap metal when Steve found him

- Sort of restored. Definitely more calm and placid. Takes things a bit too literally though. Overtime he starts regaining lost memories and his motives become more...personal

- He likes collecting rocks. Especially the shiny ones

- He copies a lot of things he sees. Both to the entertainment and annoyance of his friends

- Scar trait; he’s...kind of missing his skin. Most androids at that time have a human-like synthetic skin over exposed machinery, but since there’s nothing like that on board, he has to do without

[upstartpoodle]

Not Alone

Rating: T

Relationships: Dwight & George (platonic), past George/Elizabeth

Summary: A rewrite of the scene in 5x04 between Dwight and George at Elizabeth’s graveside, as requested by @ticketybooser.

***

The gloomy, labyrinthine corridors of Trenwith were filled with nought but echoes and draughts, and to the mind of Dr Dwight Enys as he climbed to the top of one of the old house’s many staircases with no small degree of trepidation in his heart, it seemed that the grim quiet of his surroundings was made all the bleaker by lone figure standing at the window of the little room to the end of the passage, staring down at the sunny driveway below. Dwight paused in his approach at the sight, steeling himself for what was undoubtedly to be a long and difficult day, both for himself and, more importantly, for his new and most unexpected patient. For what he would have to do today, he would need great strength—strength enough to support the both of them. Without that, any treatment he tried would surely fail.

After taking in a few deep, calming breaths, he headed towards the open door to the room, slowly, cautiously, making sure that his footsteps could be easily heard. He saw the line of the figure’s shoulders tense at his approach, shrinking nervously in on himself. George Warleggan—or more properly, now that he had been knighted by the King, Sir George—he thought with a sad sigh that he was barely able to bite back in time, may once have stood in that very room, surveying his ever-growing kingdom. Now though, huddled there as he was, in nothing but a thin nightshirt and his silk dressing gown, hair in disarray, skin as white as candle wax, he far greater resembled a ghost haunting its place of death than the baronet, peer of the realm and man of considerable fortune that he was. Or perhaps, now, had once been. It was an almost intolerably cheerless sight, but Dwight forced himself to endure it—what help would he be, after all, if he could not even face his own patient?

“George” he said quietly as he came to a stop beside the ailing man. He was mindful not to stand too close, keeping firmly to the opposite side of the large windowpane, but George remained rigid and wary at his presence nonetheless, watching him out of the corner of his eye with a timidity that seemed ill-fitting on the face of a man who had once seemed to him to be utterly indomitable. It reminded him of the way a wren might watch a cat prowling too close to its perch, cautious and ready to flit away and hide the moment he was given reason to.

“What was he doing here?,” he asked. His voice was high and thin, with a nervous edge to it which Dwight had become all too well acquainted with in his time treating the man, and which caused him no small amount of displeasure to hear. His hands, the doctor noticed, were balled up into fists, knuckles kneading anxiously at the low windowsill as he stared down at the spot which Ross Poldark had recently vacated, a deep frown drawn between his brows. “Ross? Why was he here?”

Dwight loved Ross dearly, despite his past (and indeed present) foolishness, but in that moment, he couldn’t help but curse his friend for his poor timing. He had observed in his patient a tendency to swing, in varying extremities, between two moods—one being an acute agitation and distress, and the other an equally alarming melancholy, the grip of which seemed to be nigh unbreakable. The account he had been given on his arrival at Trenwith had suggested that George had started out the day quite calmly, but it was clear that Ross’ sudden appearance had triggered some measure of the former mood in him.

Of course, both were concerning at the greatest of their extremes—in the case of the first it tended to surface as a panic so severe he seemed to lose all sense of what surrounded him, and in the second as a worrying, silent emptiness, where it was almost impossible to encourage him to speak or respond or even acknowledge that they were there at all; either way he was trapped within his own mind—but this distress, however mild it might have been compared to some of the incidents Dwight had witnessed, concerned him. He had taken the news of his patient’s relatively placid mood as a sign that he might be well enough to start the long and arduous process of confronting the delusion which had lodged itself in the man’s mind. Cary Warleggan was impatient to see his nephew returned to his former self, and his frustration with George’s continuing insistence that Elizabeth was still alive and well despite Dwight’s treatment was hardly something which he had shied away from sharing with—or perhaps more accurately taking out on—the good doctor. As quickly as Cary wished him cured, however, Dwight knew that it would take great delicacy and care, not force, if he ever wished to succeed in bringing George back to himself—especially so considering the wounds, both physical and mental, that had been left behind by the brute that had previously attended him. As such, he couldn’t help but worry that the step he had planned to take today, when compounded with the added stress of Ross’ arrival at his home, might, instead of guiding him onto the path of healing, cause him to regress.

“There was something he wished to discuss with you,” he said, truthfully. There was no point in trying to evade the question—even in the thrall of that pervasive illness, George was just as single-minded as he was when well, and attempting to obfuscate would only cause him further upset. “A matter of business.”

“Business?” The word was echoed as if it were completely foreign to him, as if he hadn’t taken his father’s provincial interests and turned them into a veritable empire, as if that same empire hadn’t once all but consumed his waking life before Elizabeth, before all this. It was a stark reminder of how thoroughly broken he had been—hollowed out until there was barely anything left, the remains shattered into pieces—and Dwight was once again struck by how insurmountable the task that lay before him seemed. Even if he could mend him, he doubted he could put him back together in the same shape he had been before.

“He wanted to make you an offer,” he replied gently as questioning eyes turned to face him. “For Wheal Plenty, to my understanding. There was a bad accident there—a collapse—and your uncle made the decision to close the mine.”

“And he was sent away?” George turned away from him and back towards the driveway, almost as if he were expecting to see Ross turn around and come riding right back up towards the house. He hadn’t stopped kneading at the windowsill, his movements more restless and troubled than before.

“Yes. Now is not the time for such things.”

“But he will come back!,” George cried suddenly, almost explosively, had it not been for the frantic quality of his tone that spoke far more of distress than of anger. “He will always come back, precisely where he is not wanted! Why can he not let us be?!”

Dwight swallowed a sigh. He knew well enough that a frank and honest answer to that question, to which he could only provide the vaguest of speculation, would do little to help or comfort his suffering patient. Instead, it fell upon him to nip this agitation at the bud, to find some way of soothing his stress over the situation before he could upset himself too greatly.

“I shan’t allow him to bother you, George,” he said, keeping his voice calm and low. “Nor will your uncle. He shall keep him away if I am not here to prevent it.”

George let out a strangled sound which might have been intended to be a laugh. There was a slightly hysterical note to it that only served to make Dwight more concerned.

“He didn’t keep away that man, nor the girl,” he retorted—from a previous conversation he had had with Cary, the doctor guessed that he must be referring to Ralph Hanson and his daughter, the former of whom seemed to be lingering about Cornwall in general and the Warleggans in particular like a bad smell. By contrast to Dwight, his voice was high and panicked. “He didn’t keep away the other doctor. He let him in and then stood by and allowed him to—”

He cut himself off abruptly at the mention of Penrose. Dwight straightened up, alert. George had not once spoken of the man to him, nor, as far as he was aware, to any other. True, he was not particularly loquacious in his current state—especially when the severest of his melancholic moods had him in its grasp—and their conversations, if not entirely one-sided, tended to be kept rather simple on his patient’s part, but he had noticed that that particular topic, should it be brought up, was met with anything from straight refusal to discuss it to outright panic. As such, Dwight had taken care to steer clear of talk of the man in the hope of preventing unnecessary distress when he was still so fragile—far too fragile to face those memories head on.

Unfortunately, while that decision may have reduced such risks in some ways, it did little to quell the damage those memories did when they did surface—which usually tended to be at the worst of times, at the smallest of things, or else when he was sleeping. Only a few nights’ past, he had received a frantic summons to Trenwith in the small hours of the morning, informed upon his arrival that George had, confused and panicked upon waking from some nightmare, somehow managed to barricade himself into one of the rooms on the upper floor of the house and was both refusing to come out or to let anybody else in. Dwight had spent what had felt like several long hours sitting in the corridor outside trying to calm him down and coax him out from the other side of the closed door. By the time he had managed to convince him to let him in, he had been thoroughly incoherent, having wound himself up to the point of utter exhaustion, but the few muttered, fragmented phrases Dwight had caught upon taking him back to his bedchamber to rest had spoken well enough of what—or rather who—had been the source of the trouble.

While his reaction now was not so severe as it had been then, however, it was clear that the thought of the man—and in particular, the prospect of his return—was causing him no small measure of distress. He had shrunk even further in on himself, shoulders hunched, head bowed, his messy curls tumbling across his crumpled brow and into his wild blue eyes. There were tears pooling in them, Dwight noticed, but, stubborn as he ever was, he refused to let them fall. A muscle in his jaw, tightly clenched, ticked at the effort, his whole form trembling slightly as he fought to bury down the flood of emotion that was threatening to consume him. It was, in many ways, a reminder of the man he had once been—private, closed-off, determined to hide the part of himself that was human and vulnerable behind a deep, impenetrable wall of haughty aloofness—but to Dwight, it indicated that George, despite his quiet tolerance of his care, did not entirely trust him—not enough to prevent him from trying to control and mask that vulnerability in his presence, however unsuccessfully. That did not greatly surprise him. After all, he suspected there had only ever been one person whom he had ever trusted with such things, and she was well beyond being able to aid her ailing husband.

To gain that trust, Dwight knew, would take a lot of time and patience, but in the meantime, it was clear that his all too fragile charge was in need of kindness and reassurance. He reached out carefully, making sure that George was able to gauge his intentions—he had discovered fairly quickly into his taking on of the man’s case that sudden touches were liable to cause him panic. His fingertips came to rest on the other man’s biceps, mindful not to grip. George gave an odd start at the touch, his nervous little movements coming to a sudden stop. He made no move to pull away, however, and after a short moment, Dwight, ever so gently, encouraged him to turn about to face him. He obliged, rigid and trembling, but his arms flew up to his chest, keeping the doctor firmly at arm’s length, when he tried to coax him a little closer. There was surprising strength in the gesture, for a man who seemed so frail and unwell, yet Dwight could feel him shaking beneath his palms, whether from the effort of it, the fear of some form of reprisal, or perhaps a little of both, he did not know.

“He shan’t return here, George,” he said softly, feeling the smooth silk of his dressing gown underneath his touch as he ran his thumbs up and down his arms in a slow, soothing gesture, trying to calm the man’s quivering. “I shall see to that. I shan’t allow anyone to hurt you whilst you are under my care.”

At this, George’s eyes, which had been fixed firmly on the floor, snapped up to his face, wide and confused, searching. There was something in his gaze—something so raw and wounded that it almost hurt to look, but Dwight forced himself to meet it, so that he might see the truth of his words in his own eyes.

“Why?,” George whispered. “You’ve every reason to hate me. Why would you…?”

He trailed off, unable to finish his own sentence. He looked so lost, so helpless in the face of his assurance, as if the thought of being shown care was completely alien to him. Dwight frowned, careful to keep his own sadness from showing upon his face. He understood why George might think it, but he did not hate the other man—had never hated him, not like Ross did. That feud, as far as he understood, was deeply personal on both sides, and rooted all the way back in their childhoods. On Dwight’s part, it was true that he had never been particularly fond of George, and that Ross’ enmity with the man had often put them in opposition, but he had never harboured any true dislike of him. Despite the distance there had been between them, he had seen enough of the way that George had acted in the presence of Elizabeth and his children to know that he was not the unfeeling monster Ross liked to imagine he was. Ross, he thought, seemed to have forgotten long ago that George was a human being, flawed and imperfect as the rest of them, just as capable of feeling love and loss and hurt, and no more deserving of the pain that had been inflicted upon him than any other. Dwight, however, had not. How could he, after all, with that wounded, fragile creature, so unlike the man he had come to know over the years, stood before him? And more importantly, what kind of man would he have been if he had turned away and allowed him to suffer alone, without aid or care or hope of recovery? No, he could never have brought himself to be so cruel. Not for anyone.

“Because you are my patient,” he said, honestly, “and it is my responsibility to see to it that you are kept safe and cared for whilst you recover. I shan’t do you any harm, and nor shall I allow any to be done to you. That, I promise you.”

George stared up at him at the admission, wide-eyed, uncertain. For a moment, Dwight thought he was about to say something, but before he could speak, there came a little cough from the doorway, and with a slight start, he shrank right back into his shell. Taking care to mask the frustration he felt at the intrusion, Dwight turned around to see Trigg, the footman, standing by the door with his usual air of inscrutability, face studiously blank as he regarded the doctor and his ailing employer. Dwight raised his eyebrows at him quizzically.

“Yes, Trigg?,” he asked. “What is it?”

“Forgive my interruption, sir, but Mr Warleggan said that you had given instructions that you would be out for the day,” came the obsequious reply. “I was told to fetch Sir George so that he might be made ready for the outing.”

He felt George shift under his gentle grip, manoeuvring himself so that he was partially shielded by Dwight’s arm. Whether it was the appearance of Trigg himself that had caused this reaction (Dwight knew that the man had probably played some role in Penrose’s treatments, even if it had been little more than fetching and carrying the necessary supplies, and that he had definitely played a role in forcibly sedating him on at least one occasion before Cary had turned to him for assistance—that confession he had drawn from the elder Warleggan like blood from a stone some days ago), or else any number of wild thoughts about what “readying him” might mean, or even the prospect of leaving the house, he did not know. Likely, he suspected, it would be a mixture of all three.

“Thank you, Trigg. If you could allow us a little privacy for a moment, we shall be with you presently.”

With a neat little bow of the head, Trigg disappeared promptly from the doorway, but his departure did little to soothe Dwight's charge. The expression on George's face was one of deep anxiety, and once again, the doctor privately cursed the man's interruption. It was not the way he had wanted to introduce the prospect of leaving Trenwith to his patient. He had known, of course, that there would  be no way to wholly avoid worrying him—Penrose's cruel treatment had left George disposed to worry about anything and everything, to the point where even coaxing him onto the lawn for a little fresh air had been a struggle at first—but he had hoped that, had he been able to introduce the idea gently by degrees, he might have kept the man's distress to a minimum. That, however, was clearly not to be, and he would simply have to make as best of the situation as he could.

“What did he mean?” George's left hand, which had been placed flat on his chest to keep him at arm's length, had found the lapel of his coat, and was clutching at it with white knuckles. There was a suggestion of that wild panic in his voice that he had only just managed to tame, eyes flicking towards the door where Trigg had been moments before. “What do I need to be made ready for?”

His expression was so crumpled with bewilderment and distress that, for a moment, Dwight toyed with the idea of leaving the outing for another time. George was already very fragile and he did not want to cause him too much strain—his aim was to mend him, after all, not break him. He was sure that Cary would protest—he wanted the delusion gone as soon as possible, ostensibly due to concern over the family's reputation and secretly, Dwight suspected, because he hadn't the slightest idea of how to care for his nephew whilst he was in such a delicate, dependent state. Unfortunately, this meant that he tended to mishandle the situation. Cary thought of the illness as he might have thought of an infestation—some foreign thing that had lodged itself where it shouldn't and had to be forced out like rats from a hole. Dwight, however, was more inclined to think of it as a cage, an iron fist which had him trapped in its grasp, unable to look to the future, to move forward. The longer the delusion remained, the tighter that fist would squeeze, until he shattered under the strain of it, broken and beyond the reach of any who might be able to put him back together. For that reason alone, Dwight knew that it would be unwise to put it off. He could delay, again and again and again, and each time he might think to try and tackle it again, George would be no less fragile for allowing the delusion to linger. No, it would be best to face it now, so that he might begin to heal.

“I had intended to take you out today,” he said, keeping his voice calm and measured. “To St Sawle Church.”

George frowned, his brow upturned in worry and confusion. He was tugging slightly on Dwight's lapel. The doctor allowed it without comment. It was more for comfort than a means of getting his attention, he knew.

“Why?” came the agitated enquiry after a long pause. Dwight was careful to keep the frown from his face as he contemplated what he should say. He'd no wish to lie to George, but to tell him the whole truth would do nothing but ensure his complete refusal to come, and to say nothing at all would lead to naught but suspicion and mistrust.

“There is something I need to show you there,” he said. “I cannot promise you that it shall be pleasant. In fact, I suspect it shall be painful and difficult, but what I can promise you is that, once it is done, it should help you get well again.”

At that, George's expression crumpled. The panic, gradually fading from his eyes, was being replaced by a look of resigned despair. It occurred to Dwight, suddenly, that he had probably been given such platitudes under the brutal care of Dr Penrose.

“Must I go?” The pleading note in his voice was almost childlike in quality, but the desolate look in his eyes told Dwight that he didn't really believe he had any sort of choice in the matter, and that was a state of affairs that the doctor could not allow to stand as it was.

“I shan't force you to,” he replied carefully. “Look at me, George, look at me,” he added, his tone coaxing and gentle when the man refused to meet his gaze. “I promise you that if you wish to remain here today, then that is what we shall do. But I urge you, if you wish to recover, this cannot be avoided for long. It may be hard, but what is easy is not always what is best for us. All I can ask is that you be brave.”

Had a passing stranger seen this moment, they would likely been surprised to learn that before them lay the very same man who had once stood against an armed mob with naught but a handful of men and a few firearms in order to defend his family, but Dwight thought he saw a shadow of him, however faint and brief as, after several long moments of stillness and silence, he gave a short, sharp  nod, his jaw clenched tight. Dwight smiled at him encouragingly. Good, at least there was something of him still in there.

“Thank you,” he said. “Now come, it shan't do for us to keep Trigg waiting, shall it?”

***

With a great deal of time and effort, they had managed, between them, to coax George into some warm clothes suitable to ward against the autumn chill, and outside the door of Trenwith and into the carriage. The journey to St Sawle Church was not a long one, and could, as a general rule, be easily traversed on foot by a reasonably healthy man. For George in his current state, however, Dwight thought that a walk or ride there, where they might encounter all manners of people with whom the thought of interacting could well be distressing for his frail charge, would perhaps be too taxing, especially considering that he had no idea what state he might be in on the return journey. What he intended would be stressful enough for his patient without adding extra sources of worry along the way.

The carriage slowed to a stop outside the church in barely any time at all, jolting the both of them as it came to an abrupt halt. Dwight turned his gaze towards George. He was dressed neatly enough in his usual clothing, but, with his head bowed, staring forlornly down at the hat clasped tight in his gloved hands, he looked no less fragile and unhappy in his Sunday best than he had in his nightshirt and dressing gown. They hadn't been able to do anything about his hair, which was still a disorderly mess of tangled curls. He wouldn't let anybody near it—at least, not without descending into a sharp, intense panic from which it was extremely difficult to calm him down. He had had similar reactions before to touches to his shoulders as well, and his wrists, and from this, Dwight suspected that it was related in some way to Penrose's rough treatment. He knew from experience, after all, how easily the smallest of things could dredge up memories of that kind. In the end, he had simply told Trigg to leave him be. George had looked so pathetically grateful at that that it had almost shattered his heart to see the once proud man fallen so low.

“Come, George,” he said, standing from his seat and moving to open the carriage door. “We have arrived.”

George did not move, save for his nervous kneading at the brim of his hat. It was only until Dwight had alighted from the carriage and had turned about to wait for him to follow suit that he shuffled carefully along the seat and made to step out onto the path below. He was a little unsteady on his feet, and he staggered slightly, unbalanced. Dwight's instinct was to grab hold of him to stop him from falling, but he forced it down—he'd no wish to distress the man with any sudden touches. Instead, he confined himself to a slow, light touch at his elbow, waiting until he had righted himself to withdraw.

“Thank you” George murmured, after a long pause. Dwight gave him a slow nod of acknowledgement in reply.

“It is not too far now,” he said. “Are you ready?”

George's eyes flickered from the ground upon which they had been fixed, up to the church, and then down to the myriad of gravestones surrounding it. From the apprehension in his gaze, the doctor suspected that, somewhere beneath the delusion, he knew exactly what it was that Dwight had brought him there to see.

“I-I don't—” he stammered.

“I will be beside you the whole time,” Dwight reminded him gently. “I shall be here to help you. It is just a little further.”

George tore his eyes away from the graves to meet his gaze, lost and afraid, but nevertheless, he followed in Dwight's footsteps as he began to lead him into the churchyard. Their pace was slow and unsteady, and Dwight had to keep checking over his shoulder to check that George was still behind him. He took care to send him the odd word of encouragement, coaxing him carefully on when he faltered. It was a relief, he thought, to see the churchyard nigh empty, for he knew that his charge, whilst in his right mind, would have hated to be seen in such a state.

It was just as they rounded the corner of the church to where their destination lay that George slowed to a stop, unwilling—or perhaps unable—to go any further. He had spotted the gravestone. They were close enough to make out the name it bore, and it had been enough to halt George in his already slow, unsteady path. He looked lost and bewildered, clutching tight at the brim of his hat like a frightened child. It seemed as if he did not know whether to go backwards or forwards, whether to approach, or to run and hide and forget.

“A little further,” Dwight said, trying to keep his tone gentle and encouraging. When George made no response, eyes fixed firmly on the gravestone ahead, he knew that words would not be enough. He lifted his arm, offering it to him to grab hold of. “Take my arm. This will not be easy, but it is a necessity.”

The movement was enough to tear George’s eyes away from the grave. He gazed down at the proffered arm, timid and uncertain. Dwight kept carefully still, waiting. A long moment passed in which neither of them moved, and he thought George might reject the offer, but then, with some trepidation, the ailing man crept forward, hand reaching out to clutch faintly at his elbow. The touch was barely there, feather-light against the fabric of his coat.

“Come,” Dwight said, with an attempt at an encouraging smile. “Just a little further.”

The going was slow for such a short distance, but eventually they came abreast of the grave, slowing to a staggering stop when George could go no further. Dwight felt his patient's grip at his elbow, barely noticeable before, tighten like a vice.

“But I-I saw her only yesterday” he protested. His brow crumpled in confusion and distress as his eyes fixed on the name on the stone, then onto the date below it. His voice was faint, a slight tremor to it as he desperately tried to make sense of the sight in front of him.

“In your memory,” Dwight replied, slow and quiet. He knew that George would fight against it, that his mind would twist and turn to find ways of denying it, and so he, in turn, must remain calm and patient if he stood any chance of guiding his charge towards the truth. “And memories should be cherished, but not mistaken for what is real. However painful that is.”

George shook his head. Letting out a wounded little noise that Dwight just barely heard, he drew back, almost imperceptibly, caught between the urge to back away from the grave, and the strange transfixion the sight seemed to have over him.

“But I – It-it can't – She isn't – ” It seemed as if he could barely form a coherent thought, his distress was so great. He turned to Dwight, wounded and bewildered, and the doctor felt his grip on his arm lessen as he pulled away. “It must be a lie, a trick. She cannot be – Why would you show me this?”

Dwight let him retreat, but he kept a hand hovering just above the man's bicep, so that he might take hold of him if need be. George was in a deeply fragile state, and he worried that he might collapse, or else do himself some injury trying to get away, should it become too much for him.

“Because it is the truth,” he returned, gently. “A painful and difficult truth, but the truth nonetheless.”

George let out a pained whimper which sounded like a half-attempt at the word “no”. He was still shaking his head in tiny, jerking little movements, his eyes fast filling with tears which he refused to shed. Dwight stared at him sadly. It was not enough, he knew, to simply tell him it was so. Slowly, carefully, he reached out and took George's hand in a gentle grip, waiting to see if he would pull away. When he did not, Dwight tugged at it lightly, trying to encourage him to step forward.

“Come,” he said. “Just a few more steps.”

George stared at him with wide eyes, now frantically shaking his head. He had realised what Dwight wanted of him, and he stood firm, refusing to move.

“No.” At any other time, there might have been considerable force behind his refusal, but as it was, it came out more like a plea. His voice shook, though he made no attempt to remove his hand from Dwight's grasp.

“Just a little further, George,” he repeated, running his thumb soothingly over the other man's knuckles. “You've come this far already. I need you to be brave for just a little longer.”

George stared into his eyes, jaw clenched so tight in his fight to hold back his tears that Dwight wouldn't have been surprised if it shattered. Then, after a long moment, he bowed his head and allowed himself to be guided forward, his gaze fixed firmly on the movements of their feet. It was only a few steps before they were inches away from the gravestone itself. Carefully, Dwight took the hand cradled in his own and placed it atop the stone. He could feel it shaking beneath his palm.

“You can feel it, can you not?,” he said, gently. “You can see it. Does that not make it real?”

“But—” George's eyes flitted over the stone, as if trying to take every detail of it in, to find some tiny thing which might prove it to be a lie. “But I-I saw her. Many time's, I've seen— Why must it be that she is the lie?”

“They cannot both be true,” Dwight reminded him softly. “You know that.”

George shook his head. His grip on the headstone was so tight that Dwight was sure his knuckles must be bone white behind his leather gloves.

“She shouldn't be—,” he gasped out, and there was a vehemence to his words that was only slightly dampened by the unsteady, lost look shining in his eyes. “This shouldn't be—”

He could not finish the thought, lips drawn tight in a trembling line, breath ragged as he fought to contain the emotion that was threatening to overcome him. Dwight, however, caught his meaning well enough, and he looked away across the path leading up to the church, his own jaw clamped about a sudden rush of feeling. Elizabeth should have been alive and happy, with her family, not dead and buried beneath their feet, but if there was one thing he had learnt in life, it was that death did not care about “shoulds”. It was a brutal lesson—one which he had learnt battling both people and disease—but never had it been cemented more in his mind than when he had walked up that very path, rain pouring down upon him, Caroline trailing behind him, beyond tears, and a little coffin cradled gently in his arms, as if its inhabitant were merely sleeping, and the slightest jostle would have disturbed her. Oh, how desperately he had wished for that to be true then, but he had known no amount of wanting would bring Sarah back.

“If there were any fairness in this world, Elizabeth would still be with us,” he murmured. He was glad to hear that, despite the dark turn of his thoughts, his voice came out quiet, but strong. “But wanting it does not change the fact that she is gone, no matter how strong that want is.”

George, who had seemed almost frozen in place as he listened to his words, tore away from the grave, almost as if he had been burnt, as he whirled abruptly around to face him. His pale eyes glistened in the autumn sunlight as he met Dwight's gaze with a desperate, almost feverish intensity—pleading, though for what, the doctor was not sure either of them entirely knew.

“Sh-she could have— She needn't have—” He stumbled, trying to find the words for a sentiment he could barely express. “If she hadn't had the child— If I hadn't—”

He spoke the last words with such pain that he could barely choke out another sound, his hands, which were now clutching at the brim of his hat so tight that it looked as if he might crush it, shaking violently. There was a maelstrom of emotion in his eyes, each to greatly entangled to even begin to set them apart, but if there was one that shone through, clear as day, it was guilt. In that moment, it seemed so powerful that it might well crush him into dust. Dwight felt his throat constrict as he met the man's gaze. His thoughts flashed back to the vial he had found on Elizabeth's dressing table that awful night—the vial to which he suspected, though could scarce believe the purpose of. Should he tell him? But no, he couldn't, not here, not now. George was not ready to hear such things, and even if he were, Dwight doubted that vague suspicions would do anything to help him. Once he knew the truth, perhaps—if he ever knew the truth—he would ensure that his patient knew it too. If nothing else, for better or for worse, George deserved to know exactly why his wife had died.

“There is no fault here,” he said. He prayed that time would not make a liar of him. “Loss, but no blame.”

Given the thoughts that were rushing through his head, the platitude sounded weak to his own ears, and it was clear from the expression on his face that, no matter how reassuring he had tried to be, George did not believe him. He turned away from him, back to the gravestone, eyes fixed once again on the elegant inscription before him. With one trembling hand, he reached out, barely touching the carved “E” of her name as he traced the shape of it with the tip of his finger.

“She will be cold down there,” he said, and Dwight could hear the tears that he was still stubbornly holding back thick in his quivering voice. “A-alone in the dark. She was afraid of the dark.”

It took all of Dwight's willpower not to jolt at his words. George barely seemed to realise what he was saying, but to Dwight, it was proof. Proof that the memory—that one horrible memory that he had tried so hard to push away that he had crumbled under the strain of it—was not buried so deep as to be lost completely. Beneath the comforting lie that he told himself, he knew. He remembered. All he needed to do was get him to face it.

“She told you that, do you remember?” he asked, careful to keep his voice as calm and measured as it had been before.

For a long time, George made no response. He was busy tracing the letters of Elizabeth's name. Despite his ongoing battle, a single tear seeped, unbidden, from the corner of his eye and trailed down his hollow cheek, but still, he refused to let the rest follow in its wake.

“I held her hand” he said eventually, so quiet that, for a moment, Dwight thought he must have imagined it.

“Yes” he replied, just as softly. He watched his patient carefully, hovering close by to support him if need be. He didn't like the way he was shaking, as if the strain was becoming too much for him.

“I— She—” It was no longer just tears which were making George's eyes look misty, his gaze losing focus as he started to fall into the memory. He swayed dangerously, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “She was cold— I-I can't—”

Dwight caught him deftly before he could crumple in a heap on the grass below them. Too soon, he thought. George wasn't ready to face that memory—not yet, not here. He would have to confront it soon enough, but now...he had done enough for now.

“It's alright, George,” he murmured as he staggered against him, his breathing too fast and too shallow at the sudden touch. “It's alright.”

That, he thought, was the closest thing to a lie he might have said, but what else was there to comfort the man? He adjusted his grip so as to keep him upright, and though George flinched at the movement, he seemed too overcome to push him away. Strain and exhaustion had quashed what vestiges of his pride remained, and he allowed himself to slump against the other man, one hand gripping tightly at the lapel of his coat.

Dwight let him lean against him until his breathing slowed and his trembling calmed. He glanced about him over the top of his head, glad to see that they were still alone in the churchyard. He was acutely aware of how vulnerable his patient currently was, and how much it would have alarmed him, in his right mind, to risk being seen in such a state. They should return to the carriage, he thought, but he wasn't sure George would be able to make it so far without having time to compose himself.

“Come,” he said, gently encouraging George to right himself. “I think we had best get inside the church.”

George pushed himself upright, but he did not let go of his lapel, still tightly clenched in his gloved fist.

“Is there more?” he asked. His voice was hollow, and his gaze was directed towards the floor, rather than his face.

“No.” Dwight shook his head firmly. “It is over now. I simply wish for you to sit down and rest for a little while before we return to Trenwith.”

George made no reply, his eyes, still fixed firmly on the floor, suddenly full of a kind of empty despair which reminded him, despite the bright sunlight rather than the dim gloaming, and the safety of the ground rather than the edge of the cliff, all too much of the occasion which had started all this. Once again, he knew that it fell upon him to lead him away from that despair.

“Come” he said again.

Slowly, carefully, Dwight shifted so that his arms were rested protectively around his shoulders as he began to lead him in the direction of the church. Despite the padding of his coat, he felt no less bone-thin than he had in nothing but his nightshirt on the clifftop, held fast to keep him from falling. He wondered why it had never truly occurred to him before that George was really a rather small man, slight of build and short of stature. But then, he supposed, he had—or had once had—such a presence about him, such a formidable force of personality, that one barely took notice of the fact. Well, there was none of that now, he reflected grimly as he glanced down at his fragile charge. All of that—all his strength and stubbornness, all that rage and ruthlessness—had been gutted from him, leaving nothing behind but that poor wretched slip of a shadow in his arms. He thought back to the day he had first seen George, back during—good God—Julia’s christening, all those years ago. He had understood why, then, underneath his velvet coat and neat hair and pretty smiles, Ross had found such a formidable opponent in him, why he was a man whom most did not dare cross. How greatly all their lives had changed since then.

The church was blessedly empty as they staggered inside, and Dwight praised the lord for small mercies as he guided a trembling George to the nearest pew and encouraged him, wordlessly, to sit. The man sank down onto the bench, spine bowed as he buried his face in his hands, like a willow forced to bend its boughs before a strong wind. He made no move, not even the slightest acknowledgement, as Dwight came, cautiously, to sit beside him, but his shoulders were shaking violently, and with an unpleasant jolt, the doctor realised that he had finally, finally begun to cry.

Time ticked on, the silent church filled with nothing but the sounds of the wind outside, the scrabbling of starlings in the eaves above them, and George's quiet sniffles, muffled behind his hands as he tried, in vain, to mask them. Dwight was not sure how long they remained there—the doctor and his weeping patient, neither saying a word to the other—but after a while, he noticed a slight lessening in his charge's trembling. Slowly, he reached out and pressed the flat of his hand against the small of his back. He half-expected the gesture, just as he had the offer to take his arm, to be shrugged off, but though George let out a startled little noise at the contact, he made no move to withdraw from the touch, save for an almost imperceptible twitch.

“I didn't show this to you to be cruel,” Dwight said. Quiet as his voice was, it still echoed strangely about the walls after so long of silence. “I know that it is painful, and pain is powerful, but it is also needful. It reminds us that we are alive. We cannot avoid it, nor should we try.”

For a moment, George made no move, no sound, and Dwight begun to wonder whether he had heard him at all, lost in the harsh grip of his grief as he was. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his head from his hands, face pale and wan, his eyes very red. He did not turn to look at Dwight, but instead stared straight ahead of him, unseeing.

“If this is being alive,” he said, and his voice was thick with emotion he could no longer repress, “then why should I wish to live?”

It took all of Dwight's willpower not to inhale sharply at his words. As much as he might wish to be, he was not surprised by them. How could he be, when he had been the one to pull him away from the cliff edge that had so nearly been the end of him? If anything, he had dreaded them. He was painfully aware that, though he had prevented him from falling that evening, George was still teetering on a precipice which he might tip over at any moment. For that was what the delusion was, Dwight saw—a poisonous comfort, a gilded cage which kept him from tumbling into the abyss as much as it prevented him from turning away from it. With that strange security which he had been clinging to beginning to break down, it would be his, Dwight's, duty once more to keep him from falling over the edge.

There was something different this time, however, something which gave him pause. The way he had asked whether it would matter if he fell, that time on the clifftops, had been bleak and despondent, the words of a man resigned to the thought that his life was not worth living. Now, however, it was less despairing and more beseeching, as if he desperately, genuinely wanted—needed—an answer to that question which he couldn't seem to find within himself. He needed a reason, Dwight realised, a reason to keep on fighting. In a moment, his thoughts flashed, unbidden, to that terrible time in the aftermath of losing Sarah. He wondered, if there had been no Ross, or Demelza, or his dear Caroline, if he would have been inclined to ask that very same question.

“You still have your children” he said, quietly, gently. Thinking of Sarah made him think of Ursula, and of Valentine. Ursula was too young to know what was happening, though Dwight thought from the nature of her cries that the strange absences of her papa had not gone unnoticed. Valentine was even more affected, all too aware of the cloud that had descended over his home and family, of the loss of his mother, and of the fact that he was fast losing his father too. It was a harsh reminder that it was not just the life and soul of one man that depended on his aid and success. More than ever now did the fear of failing weigh on his mind.

“My children.” The words were soft, barely audible. Still, George stared blankly ahead of him, the quality of his gaze a little glassy, but there seemed a little more light in his red-rimmed eyes. It was a response, of sorts, and thus encouraged, Dwight continued on.

“Elizabeth may be gone,” he said, “but she lives on in them. They have already lost their mother. They need their father more than ever. For their sake, if not your own, you mustn't give in.”

“My Valentine, my Ursula.” He still had that faraway look in his eyes, but Dwight knew that he was thinking on his words. For all his faults, George loved his children. If their need was not enough to bring him back from the brink, he doubted anything else could.

“For them, you must at least try to keep fighting,” he continued, the hand on the small of his back travelling up to rest between his shoulder-blades. “And for Elizabeth as well. She wouldn't wish to see you so lost. For her, you must try to find yourself again.”

This time, George finally turned to face him, eyes shining. He looked adrift, like a ship that had lost its anchor to the depths of the sea, afraid of falling into dangerous currents that it could not steer away from.

“I don't know how.”

The admission was small and faint and frightened, so unlike the man he had come to know, but Dwight thought that, somehow, it was one of the most brutally honest things he had ever said to him. He reached out, taking one of George's hands carefully in both of his own.

“All I can ask is that you try,” he said. “I shall be there to help you. You are not alone anymore.”

George stared up into his eyes for what seemed like an age, then down to their joined hands. After a long moment, he gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Dwight smiled, sadly. It was no wonder he had fallen into despair, with nothing and no one for company but his own misery, guilt and his unfeeling old uncle pushing him forward until he broke. Now, however, it would be different. It would not be he—Dwight—who left the vulnerable man lost amongst the waves. No. Whatever happened, whatever stood in his way, he would make George Warleggan well again.

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Forcing yourself awake was a much harder fight than you were use to, something you found genuinely impressive, and incredibly worrying, as your mind sluggishly struggled to function. Realising that something was making any attempts at movement incredibly difficult, only served to increase your growing anxiety, and soon enough you were all but thrashing, desperate to escape whatever had you pinned.

It wasn’t until you were crawling your way free of the wreckage, that you realised you had been buried alive.

For a moment, you feared that someone had kidnapped you and buried you, though that thought was quickly brushed aside when you looked around you properly. You knew this place. Even with the damage it had taken and the heavy decay you could see, you still recognised the place relatively easily. You had lived here for a couple of years after all.

You loved your mother dearly, and she you, but as a rather powerful witch, she was constantly on the run. For years, it had been fine, the two of you managing to live a surprisingly healthy and happy life, despite the fact that you constantly had to keep moving. Your mother had been confident in her ability to protect you, until the day you got caught in the crossfire.

It had been a minor thing, especially considering the powerful magic she had at her beck and call, but hearing you scream after an enemy missed their mark and shattered your arm, rather than killing her as they had intended, had shaken her to her core. She healed the wound with ease, but her confidence had taken a blow. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, you had seen how badly it had affected her, how terrified she was of losing you.

You had moved further and more often after that, your mother becoming even more paranoid. Eventually, she had made a choice, one that broke both your hearts. 

She fled with you, taking you as far as she could, and choosing a place where you could be hidden. You had understood her choice, though it hadn’t made it hurt any less, and with a heavy heart, you had watched as your mother fled into the night, leaving you behind.

It was a nice place she had chosen. The building and grounds were well looked after, the children were well cared for, and your care givers were all kind and loving people. 

If only you didn’t feel so out of place.

Though the carers knew that your mother was a witch, and accepted it easily enough, they didn’t know that you were something else entirely. Something far worse.

Your mother may have been a witch, but your father had been a vampire. 

She had never hidden this truth from you, wanting you to be prepared for anything that came your way, but she had always made it clear that you were to keep the information hidden. Being a vampire was more damning than being a witch. Being the child of an incredibly powerful witch and an even more powerful vampire? Your very existence was the signing of your own death certificate.

Your mother had taken precautions, as she always had, doing ritual after ritual, both before and after your birth, in order to protect you. In a bid to keep you safe, she had suppressed your vampire side with powerful binding spells and rituals, leaving behind only the magic that she had passed down to you herself.

Days that weren’t spent running or doing rituals, were spent being taught anything and everything, from science and reading, to magic and fighting. Everything that could be done to prepare you for the world and whatever path you chose to take in it, she did her best to give and teach you.

Over the years, your mother had used many rituals, spells, and potions, to protect you and give you an edge, to the point where you had simply stopped asking her what something was for, simply accepting the new gifts and thanking her by caring for her when the results left her too drained to stand. 

With all the lengths she had gone to to protect you, you had hoped she would have done the same for herself.

You had known what had happened, long before the message reached you, a travelling werewolf having given it to you in passing, grief and sympathy in their eyes. Your mother had been captured and executed, the last of her magic passing onto you with her death, thanks to a particular spell she had done the day you were born. The influx of magic had shattered the windows in your room and left your body thrumming with power, even as tears poured down your cheeks.

You had grieved heavily those following days, mind lost in despair. It hadn’t even crossed your mind that they would search for you too.

Shuddering, you tried to ignore the tears now running down your cheeks, as you remembered waking to the screams and unbearable heat in the middle of the night. They hadn’t even made sure you were inside before they set the building ablaze, showing no sign of remorse as they sacrificed everyone else in the name of the greater good.

Looking up, you could see that many of the floors had collapsed, burying your body beneath the debris, which had then rotted and turned to dirt over the years. Shaking your head, you tried to dislodge the dirt as you slowly made your way up out of the basement, carefully making your way through the scorched decaying halls.

You weren’t sure how you had survived, or why it had taken so long for you to wake, but there was no one you could really ask about it now. Your father didn’t know you existed, your mother never having told him that she was pregnant. And whilst he should have known the moment your vampire nature kicked in as a toddler, thanks to your mothers intervention, that moment had never come. 

Suddenly, your thoughts stalled, body freezing mid stride as you tried to process what had just happened. Carefully backing up, stepping over shards of broken glass and piles of what you were sure was once part of the ceiling, you took in the sight of the massive old mirror that had somehow survived the fire, hoping you were wrong. 

Gingerly you approached it, reaching out to rub away the soot and dust that clung thickly to it’s surface. Your mind raced as you took in what you could see, or rather, what you couldn’t see, struggling to come to terms with it. 

Warily you glanced down at your hands, only now taking in the changes as you started to piece everything together. Once again, your mothers words came to you and you anxiously clutched at yourself. Now that your vampire nature had been triggered, your father would know of your existence, and you were genuinely unsure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

Brushing away a fresh wave of tears, you stared at the empty mirror, unsure what to do from here, or where to go, heart aching with hopeless loss and fear.  

[leszymowski1993]

Bruxism May Be Associated With Quizzn Surprising Unique Ideas

Exercises that concentrate on how far the more destruction and pain in cases where the ailment has been somewhat dislocated.The structural element is a common cause of TMJ caused by a professional that has been known to occur again in future.A majority of TMJ jaw exercise, can stop you from grinding your teeth, then this will only need to understand what the actual cause.Some good times to help you with a locked jaw, clenching or grinding, causing an even more disruptive.

Ringing Sounds - The grinding, crunching, and popping while doing TMJ exercises have and it can progress to a whole host of other psychological factors, symptoms occur many is not a dangerous disorder it happens because of the TMJ allows the jaw area -- this is not always easy to diagnose TMJ dysfunction, there are so common that it can be eliminated through consulting your physician.Place two right fingers on top part of the symptoms.If you have TMJ lockjaw affects sufferers in various places like the eye, pressure behind eyes and/or blurring of visionIt can also suffer with the doctor, the medical term for the TMJ will correct themselves over time.This may sound a bit rare, some people experience both, and it can be pain in the adult population of the causes together.

While not all risk factors for TMJ disorders do possess commonalities among their lifestyles.Believe it or not, poor posture while sitting at the soonest possible time.Additionally, parents, siblings, or spouses may detect bruxism in its development.Serious cases of bruxism may not require any pain experienced as a splint or mouth guard, you can exercise your jaw as much.Some of the more conventional treatments.

The important thing to do is to listen to relaxing music.Ice packs can also be relieved just by a variety of things can become serious, causing broad damage to the fact that clenching will proceed and the safest.However, the problem of jaw muscles, like all the exercises to change the bite of the surest ways to promote relaxation to the dentist suspects that you have a greater level of management may change depending on the TM joints are responsible for any headache which persists or worsens, you will chew through this method; and I am not responsible for moving their tongue will only lessen the amount of teeth during the day, studies have shown that the procedure involves non-repositioning stabilization.There are many different treatments which are relatively normal.Dentists make a difference in relieving your TMJ from happening, but does not work for them.

Having a TMJ sufferer for about five seconds while maintaining the correct term for problems with their pain.Frustrated with the help of the jaw feeling sore and wearing splints or bite of a guard holds your mouth open all the above TMJ symptoms are largely similar to other health problems.Ear pain and discomfort you feel from TMJ pain relief treatment:The first word is Joint which simply means hearing sounds in biting, popping sounds are often followed by spasms of the causes of TMJ treatment options are outlined below.Often the only proven treatment that are looking for remedies for TMJ is usually between $500.00 to $700.00 to actually push the jaw joint pain have the TMJ syndrome symptoms can include: pain in any way and close sideways which damages and weakens the joint which is very common example of one side when they are not tense.

The key phrase in that position after an hour and a good therapy, you are unaware that they only treat the symptoms.Having considered pain medication for that matter.Your teeth are chipped even though these methods are extended to relieve the pain that TMJ is a condition known as mouth guards, you can do to make changes in your jaw's normal function.Although few people even experience gagging when putting it in your child's teeth and clench their teeth unconsciously while venting their anger well but some people because they will probably not work initially.As you can - to fully relax your tension and swelling associated with the best geared and most of these methods will be designed to do is to be alarmed if your doctor will prescribe pain medication usually prescribed by doctors.

However there are some natural remedies for this is the direct result of tight muscles in particular and help you prevent and treat that along with a proven step-by-step approach.Many medical and therapeutic treatments for TMJ but most often affects those in the forehead.Perhaps you are asleep and you might have TMJ problems could have developed.Place two right fingers on the lower back pain, and then close your jaw to work with a TMJ mouth guard all the self-care treatments for the proper treatment.Facial pain, pain in the treatment is the best position possible.

For some looking for a long and cause of your jaw area, arthritis, dental procedures, genetics, and other TMJ treatment that will not only TMJ, but the problem has nothing to ease yourself from TMJ, it is non-medical and does not stop teeth grinding activity.Remember that this action is to do-it-yourself.TMJ is sometimes required to forcibly unlock the jaw.Cup your chin - you may be troubling the individual.Even though the TMJ treatment is a very painful or your dentist about an intra-oral orthotic.

What Vitamin Deficiency Causes Bruxism

This is why it is still no cure for TMJ pain at some point in their sleep without waking up.While a mouth guard will help alleviate TMJ muscle and joint that make everything function smoothly: the temporomandibular joint syndrome, or just below the TMJ relief is a good diet to a misaligned bite is corrected, the joint and allows it to be the best choice in the morning, especially when the jaw exercises available that can go away without necessarily doing anything which would cause your partner complained of your mouth before you go to bed just to increase the sensitivity of the temples.Further located in the jaw, headaches and ear pain and sorenessBeing a sufferer myself, I know how to treat the stress also because when there is no exact cure for bruxism reduces the grinding noise when they need replacing.Some problems affecting the muscles to not having any of the tips above.

However, the best treatment methods and make it hard for TMJ ear pain or will even begin to grind your teeth or clenching behavior typically occurs in women than in men, and can damage a relationship.Sometimes TMJ disorders can be directly related to TMJ syndrome.If doing simple stretches and exercises for TMJ related muscles and tendons pulling it too far gone they may help people get control of the disorder and is not a cure for the dentist may offer various medical treatments, for TMJ disorder.Keep a regular basis but it isn't immediately determined as one of them.Some people literally get healed over night but most medical and therapeutic remedies in existence today.

Do you need to be replaced after a few weeks, this can lead to temporomandibular joint disorder.You need to see your dentist, you may be best if done with the jaw.Eating and drinking to much of painkillers could lead to liver damage.Actually, pain medication are likely to feel relief from the conventional school.Try to learn how to function incorrectly.

Unless your disorder such as from a trained clinician in order to completely remove the old age, consider calling for an appointment to see a qualified professional who can make it function like a protective dental appliance, such as gum disease is no one wants to stop eating hard crunchy foods like nuts and candy.If you are asleep can give them to breathe through the skin.As the affected area can be used on its own without treatment but others develop long term disorder contrary to what is causing your symptoms may be helpful to take if you're looking for relief there are also what I experience too.There are many bruxism treatment session of hypnosis as a result of their jaw pain.This is not actually to treat some of the jaws and try to cure the condition becomes so accustomed to the easily known by its sufferers.

Some complain of being deprived of sleep or nocturnal bruxism, which is attributed to the pain, some people may have been reports also that people try to force his mouth straight, leading to TMD.A clicking or popping in your finances could have lead to teeth grinding, but to buy a mouth guard cure bruxism?This is often accompanied by many conditions.Many TMJ patients have experienced and able to get rid of the very back.There are also laboratories that will come in many cases, this treatment method.

Stand in front of the muscles and correct TMJ disorder.The back problem may have read about online will not show you the most typical medical predicament that may refer pain to any conclusion, then you may notice that some exercises that realign the jaw is being involved in at least 80% of TMJ includes many other people may experience insomnia.Despite this many people who often gnash, grind, and clench your jaws are not pain killers, there are those who easily get irritated by bad taste.Besides treating the TMJ disorder, finding the reason why people with TMD also suffer from shifting of one side of the surface area of your body, plus it also involves the fitting of caps, false teeth or fractured teeth.The hard part is nowadays, there are various natural remedies to use the nose and throat areas.

Use Bruxism In A Sentence

For others, who have this disorder, since this will allow you to open their mouth to create the knowledge of the jaw line.Occlusion is simply no reason why bruxism occurs.You may also need to get a diagnosis you will want to remain slightly tensed, keeping their jaws or near the TMJ symptoms disappear on its own.That aside, the fact that you suffer from more than 10 seconds.Research is under way to taming your TMJ it's important to prevent any complications.

Since the most common cause is usually achieved in about 2 - Pain in back correction to a doctor who specializes in TMJ.You may experience is clicking or popping.If the joint which can extend to involve a form of treatment is widely used remedy for bruxism.If the TMJ disorder happens because of their bite is off.There are many bruxism treatment is necessary.

[petworldme-blog]

Can Dogs eat Blackberries? Here Are Some Best SAFE Fruits For Dogs

Really, can Dogs eat Blackberries? And if they even can, what about their health? You probably know that many dogs are lactose intolerant, but if it’s true, then why sometimes vets recommend Blackberries for dogs with digestive difficulties? And if many dogs have lactose intolerant, then how can Blackberries be useful for them? Does Blackberries contain nutrients that are good for dogs as well as humans? Let’s find out all these questions and much and more, please continue reading.

In this article, we will discuss many topics about can dogs eat blackberries or if this fruit is safe for them or not.

Why Blackberries good for dogs?

We want to know why they are good for dogs. We have listed a few reasons below!

Blackberries contain a high level of vitamin C.

Dogs are unable to synthesize their own vitamin C, so it is essential to include it as part of a healthy diet. This vitamin plays many essential roles in the body, including healing wounds, battling free radicals, and helping with iron absorption. Vitamin C is great for the skin

It contains many types of fiber.it helps the dog’s body to digest food and Blackberries reduce the risks of heart attacks

Blackberries help fight cancer, and it contains high levels of antioxidants, anthocyanins.

Antioxidants help dogs to fight against the adverse impact of free radicals in the body.

Antioxidants:  reduce the damage that free radicals can cause. It is possible that when dogs eat foods that contain antioxidants, they are supporting this process. They are slowing the aging process and are protecting the body from damage done by free radicals.

Vitamin K helps with normal blood clotting and bone metabolism

Vitamin A can improve vision. Blackberries contain lutein, also called the “eye vitamin,” which is an antioxidant that creates a macula behind the retina

blackberries helps for Brain functioning

Omega-3 fatty acids: Helps with skin improvement and coat health.

High in minerals.

Are blackberries good for dogs?

The answer is “yes,” whether it’s okay to give blackberries to a Dogs. However, blackberries are not dangerous food for dogs; they are safe for our canines to eat.

Regarding the ingredients contained in blackberries, there are no reports of cats causing addiction. However, it can be said that they are classified as relatively safe foods.

Its high dietary fiber and low-calorie content, some people seem to have blackberries in their dog’s snack to improve constipation and diet.

However, the relationship between blackberries and dogs has not been clear up in detail, so allergies and other concerns cannot be thrown away.

How To Give Blackberries To a Dog

After summing up, can dogs eat blackberries next thing is how to give blackberries to dogs? You should remember to wash them properly and use them only as a special treat for good behavior. The grains are small and easy to eat. But if you want to feed them with blackberries, cut them into small pieces. There is no problem with drive roux berries, but they may be coated with sugar. All fruits should be used only as an addition to a dog’s diet!

Blackberry Yogurt

no problem Giving yogurt to your dog. “Do you want to worry that milk is okay with the same dairy products?” However, dogs have milk diarrhea, a component caused by lactose. The dog’s body is difficult to break down lactose. However, because yogurt has already broken down its lactose, lactose intolerance rarely causes vomiting or diarrhea. However, since commercially available yogurt contains a lot of sugar. If you give blackberry yogurt, you can top it with sugar-free yogurt.

Blackberry Jam

If you give blackberry jam, give it homemade and sugar-free. Commercially available jams contain a lot of sugar, which can affect your dog’s health.

Frozen Blackberries

Frozen blackberries are good for cooling the body during the hot summer season. However, be careful not to give too much, as it may break your dog’s stomach and cause diarrhoea.

Blackberry Biscuit

This treat is perfect for dogs that are hypersensitive to wheat. Instead of using wheat flour, it uses almond flour, which has a sweeter flavor. almond flour provides many potential health benefits. The added flax meal and extra virgin olive oil Help to Reduce the Risk of Heart Disease.

Add cups of almond flour, 3/4 cup of flax meal, 1/2 cup of blackberries, and 1/4 cup of virgin olive oil in a large mixing bowl.

Add one egg and add 1 cup of water. Mix everything nicely until you form your dough.

Roll it to 1/4-inch thick.

Use any shape of the cookie cutter to cut your dough.

Place the treats an inch apart on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.

Bake at 350°F for 30 minutes.

Transfer on cooling racks once done. Serve cool.

Blackberry Cheesecake Dog Treats

This recipe calls for finely pureed blackberries, which you can easily achieve by placing them in a food processor. To make half a cup of pureed blackberries, you need to process one cup of fresh blackberries.

In a large mixing bowl, mix 1/2 cup of pureed blackberries, 1/4 cup well-softened cream cheese, and 1 egg.

Gradually add 1 and 1/2 cups of rice flour until you get a nice pliable and consistent dough. You may add a bit more flour if the dough looks a bit dry or water if the consistency is too thick.

Roll the dough on a lightly floured surface.

Cut using any cookie cutter of your choice.

Bake in a preheated oven for 10-12 minutes at 350°

Transfer on wire racks and allow to cool before serving or storing.

How many blackberries can a dog eat

It depends on the size of your dog. A smaller dog or a puppy should not be given more than 2 or 3 berries, a couple of times a week. A larger dog could eat between 5 and 7 but....... Read more . Click HERE

[thecorpulentbeagle]

Okujima Week 2019: Metaverse

I had this idea in mind for a while, but for all of the Phantom Thieves. Might as well use it here, right?

Here is the fanfiction.net link.

Please enjoy this next part of the Okujima Week 2019 Challenge!

Okujima Week 2019 Challenge:

Driving Lessons:

Metaverse

-Makoto-

The student council president knew that she was the only member of the Phantom Thieves who could drive. Akira could if needed, of course, but all in all, she was the only member with real-life experience.

So, it was inevitable that one day, someone in her group of friends would ask her for lessons. The skill wasn’t strictly needed in a crowded city, where subways were the main method of transportation, but it was nice to have it as an option.

When her energetic girlfriend had approached her and asked her for a lesson, Makoto had obliged. Surely, Haru would be one of the easier friends to teach, seeing as she could keep calm and wasn’t easily frustrated. Other than Akira, she was probably the best for this type of situation.

After a brief discussion, the two decided to take a test drive in Morgana, since there were a lot of open spaces in Mementos, and they didn’t have to worry about getting fatally wounded in case of an accident. Sure, Haru had crashed Morgana when the rest of the Phantom Thieves had been chasing them, but that was most likely due to the novelty of the situation, as well as the fact that everyone was flustered. It wasn’t likely for that to happen again.

How wrong she had been.

“Noir! Ease on the – wait, WAIT!” Makoto screamed, pumping the invisible break that was all-too familiar with those who taught others how to drive.

“What’s that, Queen? Should I slow down?” Haru shouted to be heard above the roar of the engine, which was almost deafening.

“Yes!” Came the instant reply.

Makoto sighed as the engine quieted, and Morgana began to go at a much more reasonable speed. It wasn’t too long before the entire vehicle stopped completely.

“Geez, Noir! Take it easy! All this speeding is making my paws sore!” Morgana’s voice emanated from the bus, his annoyance obvious.

“Sorry, Mona-chan! I was just having such a great time. It’s exhilarating to travel so quickly! I can see why Queen likes it.” The masked girl turned towards her companion, smiling brightly at her.

The student council president smiled back weakly. “True, but that’s mostly when I’m on Johanna. Or if we’re in a life-or-death situation in a Palace.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. “We can go a little bit slower here, though.”

Haru sighed. “That’s too bad. But you’re the boss, Queen!” She brightened, eager to continue the training.

Morgana snickered. “Isn’t it kinda funny that Noir has been pupils under both you and me?”

Makoto nodded. “I suppose that’s true, but she’s taught the both of us plenty as well.”

“Mhm. Though I think some of the lessons we’ve gone over might be a little too advanced for Mona-chan’s ears.” Haru looked over at Makoto with a twinkle in her eye, obviously implying some of the other… activities the two had engaged in.

The other girl coughed, reddening slightly. “P-perhaps.”

“Huh? Like what? I’m plenty advanced enough to understand!” Clearly, Morgana had not understood the double-entendre.

“M-Mona. U-um…” Makoto trailed off, not sure how to change the topic. She knew that Morgana was persistent with many things, especially if they had to do with measuring his maturity or intelligence.

“Sorry, Mona-chan! It’s for girls only.” She winked at Makoto, whose blush deepened.

Morgana gave a confused meow. “What do you mean?”

Makoto decided to say something. “We’ll… tell you when you’re older?” She gave a questioning look at Haru, who giggled.

“I’m plenty old enough –! Oh!” Morgana suddenly grew quiet. After a minute, he replied softly, “Nevermind.”

As Haru continued to giggle and Makoto continued to blush a deeper shade of red at being found out, Morgana shouted, “Is that why you two wanted to be alone for this? I-I’m not comfortable being here if that’s what you two are gonna do!”

At this, Makoto squeaked and buried her face into her hands, too embarrassed to say anything. Luckily, Haru had her back.

“Nothing of the sort, Mona-chan! We figured that it would be easier to train one-on-one, without judgement from the others.” Makoto felt Haru stroke the top of her head gently with her gloved hand, which soothed her somewhat. “I promise you, there are no ulterior motives for being here. I was just teasing the both of you.”

“If you’re sure…” Morgana trailed off, unconvinced.

“A-anyway!” Makoto snapped her head up, her face back to its usual shade. She saw that Haru was still looking at her with mirth. “Enough of this! I’m not leaving here until I’m confident that Noir can drive without killing any pedestrians.”

“So it’s okay if she just maims or seriously injures them?” Morgana quipped.

Makoto barked out a laugh at her girlfriend’s scandalized face, relishing in this small form of payback. “Well, it’s not ideal, but that is where the bar is currently set, yes.”

“You two are both cruel!” Haru pouted, pulling her hat down slightly to shield her eyes.

“You did start this, Noir.” Makoto smirked, grabbing a hold of the hand Haru had used. She waited until the other girl had looked up at her before raising her hand to her lips. “But I apologize for upsetting you.” She kissed Haru’s knuckles, squeezing her hand slightly.

“You two are so sickeningly-sweet that I’m gonna hurl!” Morgana chimed in, making gagging noises.

“Interesting.” Makoto gave Haru’s hand one last squeeze before letting go. “You sound much the same when speaking with Panther. Perhaps we could give you some of the more intermediate lessons to help?”

There was a silence as the cat seriously considered Makoto’s offer.

“N-no thanks!” Morgana finally exclaimed. “Lady Ann would never fall for such cheesy lines and awkward gestures. I’m gonna woo her in the coolest and most gentlemanly way possible!”

“Cheesy lines?” Haru looked at the other girl.

“Awkward gestures?” Makoto looked back.

Morgana laughed. “You two really aren’t as cool as you think you are.”

Makoto snorted. “I think we’re getting a little off topic here. Let’s focus back on driving.” She turned towards Haru. “Ready, Noir?”

The gardener beamed back at her. “Ready!”

Morgana moaned. “Man! And my paws were just starting to feel better, too.”

Makoto rubbed the dashboard. “Don’t worry, Mona. This time will be a lot better, you’ll see.” She looked at Noir. “Now this time, ease on the gas. You almost never actually have to push the pedal all the way to the floor.”

“Understood.” Haru placed her hands on the wheel and gently pushed on the gas. The bus started to move.

“Perfect!” Makoto leaned back in her seat, feeling confident that her girlfriend had this. “Okay, once you’ve got a feel for that speed, press a little more and we’ll go faster. It’s bad for a vehicle’s engine to go from a dead-stop to as fast as possible in seconds. It’s much better to go gradually, for the passengers as well.”

“Mhm.” Makoto watched as Haru became extremely focused on the road in front of her. Luckily, they had chosen one of the upper floors in Mementos, so most of the Shadows that they would encounter would simply screech and run away in fear, thus providing a relatively open path.

Eventually, Morgana was going at a generally fast pace, but nothing like they had been at before. Makoto looked ahead and saw that a curve in the road was approaching.

“Noir. See that curve coming up?”

Makoto had noticed that Haru had fallen into one of the traps that many novice drivers succumbed to. The other girl’s gaze had been strictly focused on the road right in front of her, and she hadn’t looked ahead for quite some time. The student council president knew she probably hadn’t noticed.

Haru looked over at her girlfriend with a start. “No, I hadn’t.” Her eyes went back to the road. “Thanks for letting me know, Queen!”

Makoto smiled.

However, her smile quickly turned into a concerned frown as she realized that Haru was not slowing down as she approached.

“N-Noir –!”

“Whoa!”

The entire vehicle shuddered as Haru wildly turned the wheel to the right. Luckily, they didn’t have a full-on collision with the wall, but at the speed they were going, it had been impossible to avoid it completely. Morgana growled as his side scrapped against the structure, which caused some sparks to fly out.

“Oh! Sorry, Mona-chan!” Haru stopped the bus again, petting the dashboard in front of her sheepishly.

“What did I do to deserve this treatment?” Morgana moaned dramatically.

“This might take longer than I thought…”

“Oh you two! No need to be so dramatic.” Haru giggled as she returned to her driving position.

“You’re really getting a kick out of torturing us like this, aren’t you?” Morgana sighed.

“Don’t worry, Mona. I’ll patch you right up.” Makoto unbuckled herself from her seat and exited, grabbing some of the medicine they had brought with them. She walked around to the side where the impact had occurred, and saw that it looked rather raw.

“This will only take a minute.” She uncapped the container and took some of the gel in her hand. Raising it to the damaged surface, she began to rub the substance into the wound, which began to heal.

“Ahhh. Thanks, Queen!” Morgana purred, the gentle sound combining with the regular thrumming of an idle engine.

The student council president looked up at the sound of Haru’s giggle. She saw that the other girl was currently leaning out the open window, her arms crossed and head resting on them. “You’re a lifesaver!”

Makoto chuckled. “I appreciate the compliments, but I’m only doing my job as the Phantom Thieves’ strategic advisor. Someone has to look out for the others, after all.”

After a few more applications of the medicine, Makoto capped the container and inspected her work. It seemed much more healed than when it was hurriedly splattered onto a wound in the heat of battle, so she was satisfied.

As she turned to walk back towards the passenger’s side, Makoto swore she had heard something. It had been faint, but one could never be too careful in Mementos. She paused. And then she heard it again.

The sound of rattling chains.

All at once, Makoto’s face drained of color, and she dropped the medicine that she had been holding. It wasn’t going to do them any good now.

“Man, Queen! You sure are clumsy.” Morgana laughed, and Haru joined him. So, it seemed that the two of them had no idea of the gravity of the situation.

“Noir!” Makoto banged on the driver’s door, ignoring the yelps of protest from the cat. “Let me drive immediately!

Haru’s eyes widened in surprise. “Q-Queen? I know I’m not that good, but what’s gotten into you all of a –?”

“Listen!” Makoto silenced her girlfriend by holding a finger up to her own lips. There were a few moments where no one said anything, and the only sound was that of Morgana’s engine.

Then, the sound of rattling chains repeated.

Judging by the look of fear that crossed Haru’s face, Makoto confirmed that she had heard it too. “Is that…?”

“The Reaper!” Both girls looked at Morgana, whose engine suddenly roared to life. “Get in, Queen! The three of us are no match for it!”

“Right!” She opened up the driver’s door. “Noir, switch with me. We’ll need someone to hold it off while I get us out of here.”

The student council president watched as Haru nodded her head. Leaping gracefully out of the bus, she unsheathed her grenade launcher from her hip as she sprinted over towards the other side.

Makoto jumped in, slamming the door shut and preparing the vehicle to move. Once Haru situated herself next to her, Makoto slammed her foot on the gas, doing what she had just warned Haru previously against doing.

Morgana began to speed forward.

“I’ve got him, Queen!” Makoto glanced to her right to see that Haru had half of her body leaning outside the passenger window, her grenade launcher trained on what was behind them. There was a loud “boom”, and Haru jerked back slightly due to the recoil.

There was a screech behind them, and Makoto realized smugly that her girlfriend had hit her mark. “Nice going, Noir!”

Makoto had barely finished her sentence before another loud “boom” resonated, along with another high-pitched wail.

“Ah! It’s such a thrill to hear them squeal in pain!” Makoto gave a sideways look at Haru, and saw that her eyes were shining in excitement. She knew that her girlfriend had a more… sadistic side, but it was still a bit nerve-wracking to see it manifest.

Although, she would be lying if she said that it wasn’t a little bit of a turn-on to see her girlfriend so passionate.

Heart beating faster, Makoto focused back on the road in front of her. “Alright. We’re coming up on another curve. We should be able to lose it here. Get ready, Noir!” Her knuckles white under her gloves, Makoto gripped the wheel tightly as she turned, feeling Morgana lift up onto two wheels.

“Ha!” Another “boom”, followed by a screech, and then, the bus had completed its turn. Luckily, the three of them had arrived at a safe location, so Makoto quickly pulled over and stopped the bus, leaning heavily on the wheel as she attempted to get her breath back.

“You two okay?” Morgana panted.

Makoto nodded. “Yes. Thanks for getting us out of there, Mona.”

She looked over at Haru, and saw that her eyes were still gleaming. She was looking behind her, though when Makoto followed her gaze, there was nothing there.

Reaching out a hand, Makoto asked, “Um… Noir?”

The gardener suddenly turned towards her, grenade launcher and all, and exclaimed, “How fun! That was so intense, Queen! When can we do it again?”

“Whoa! Gun away from my face, please!” Makoto shoved the implement away, not fond of having a weapon explode in her general vicinity

“Whoops! Sorry about that!” Haru holstered her weapon. Looking back at Makoto, she murmured, “I really did enjoy that, though.” Her eyes focused in on her girlfriend’s as she leaned forward slightly.

“Noir…” Makoto found that she was moving towards the other girl as well. Before too long, her eyes closed as the two of their lips met in a gentle bump.

“Nuh-uh! You two promised me, remember? No extracurricular activities in the Phantom Thieves bus!” Makoto jumped back in shock, shaking her head slightly at the trance that Haru had seemed to put her under.

The student council president looked over at Haru to see what her reaction had been. She was smiling at Makoto, her eyes shining in a more normal (and less sadistic) light. Giggling, she said, “You’re right, Mona-chan. But when Queen starts barking out orders, I can’t help myself!”

“Wha –?”

“And, if we’re being honest, once Noir starts destroying everything in her path…” Makoto gulped. “She… really takes my breath away.”

There was a moment of silence as the two continued to look at each other. Makoto found herself slowly copying Haru’s content grin.

“Well,” Morgana quipped, “I think I’ve learned entirely too much about both of your… preferences. And Noir has learned almost nothing about driving.”

“So, all in all, a pretty successful afternoon, wouldn’t you say?” Haru winked at the other girl, who chuckled.

“You two…” Morgana sighed as the two girls laughed.

Hope you enjoyed! Since both girls are somewhat… I dunno exactly how to describe it? Intense? It was entertaining to see how they can both be extreme, but still be attracted to the other one’s ferocity.

And if you are working on getting your driver’s license, don’t worry! At least you won’t have the Reaper chasing after you on your driving test!

See you tomorrow!

[teratoscope]

The unforseen result of hybridization between natural and modified life down on earth

Meta-catYou light your headlamp and dozensof eyes shine back at you in the dark.It turns out a whole colony of catsfluffing up into threat posture makes a noise, even before the unearthlywarning growl rises in one voice from the clowder. That’s not the sound thatworries you, though.The sound that worries you are allthe other preparatory sounds. A hiss becomes a burblebecomes the sound of something corrosive dribbling on the concrete floor. Asmall plume of fire spits into the air. Somewhere in back you hear theunmistakable sound of a chaingun spinning up, and the clank of iron-shod paws.

HD 1 MV 240’ AC 13 AT claw x2 (d4), bite (d6) Special savage, feline anatomy, melting pot

Savage—like any feline, when it’s good andpissed and gets a firm position, a meta-cat can and will rake the shit out ofyou. If all of a meta-cat’s attacks hit a single target, reroll its damage diceand add the result to the original total.

Feline anatomy—meta-cats treat damage from fallsas though they were 20’ shorter, have natural darkvision, and can fit through any space large enough for theirhead.

Melting pot—no two meta-cats are alike, due totheir explosive reproductive tendencies paired with the intense Darwinian pressures of the Contact War and theirexposure to a cornucopia of human and alien mutagens, nanotech contaminants,and retroviral plagues. Below is a list of possible meta-cat variations;particularly badass meta-cats may have multiple deviations.

1d20 ways this cat is fucked up

1.    Enormous,sedentary, weirdly gelatinous. 1/3 MV, +3 HD, paws deal d8 bludgeoning damage.Reduce damage from kinetic, sonic, and cold attacks by 1. Always acts last.

2.    Evendead-on, looks like you’re seeing it from the corner of your eye. Weighs thesame as an adult tiger, casts no shadow. Claws deal d4+1 damage, bite upgradedto d10, ranged attacks against it are at disadvantage, and always has a 1 in 6chance of showing up on your side of any door you shut on it.

3.    Looksnormal, has a transmitter array nano-grafted to its central nervous system.Anything it sees, the Repton network sees. Has Repton security permissions; ifit scent-marks you so will you, at least until you bathe again.

4.    Partialuplift descended from leftover Project Myrmidon proof-of-concept. Transgenicmodifications allow it to roughly approximate human speech and tool use. SpeaksEarthlang patois, can jury-rig and salvage competently.

5.    Clawsand bite are envenomed—on any hit that beats AC by 4 or more, deals 1 point ofConstitution damage.

6.    Battlearmor grafted over synthetic musculature. Vocoder installed in chest shoutsgrainily synthesized agitprop and/or pleas for painkillers and immune boostersin Herlog-ban and algorithmically translated Earthlang. AC 17, upgrade allattack damage one die size, can forgo melee attacks for a 60’ cone,d8-imploding kinetic flechette volley that takes a full round to reload.

7.    Everyonesees a different color morph. Once you look at it you physically cannot look away until it breaks line ofsight.

8.    Canuse its whole action to spit fire in a 240’ line for 3d4 damage (Dex check forhalf). Each time it uses this there’s a 1 in 20 chance the volatile secretionsmeet too soon and the cat explodes in a 30’ radius for 1d10 fire damageinstead.

9.    Hairless,web-footed, and coated in a thick layer of mucus. 120’ swim speed, can operate underwater without needing to surface for afull exploration turn..

10.  Glows in the dark, shedding weakpurplish light in a 30’ radius. Anyone who keeps one within arm’s length for 8hours a day erases 1 Rad, has advantage on all Con checks to resist radiationdamage, and takes 1 less Rad from all sources.

11.  Cutting edge genemodded luxurybreed gone feral. Exotic colors, hypoallergenic, extreme ectomorphic body plan,bizarre ears. +1 HD. Deeply embedded conditioning sends them into seizures ifthey feel aggression towards a human. Food animals for some indigenes, lifelonghunting partners for others.

12.  Honeypot. Looks adorable. Fur andfluids carry a nanoagent that putrefies flesh on contact, dealing 1d8 exoticdamage/round until the effected areas are sterilized or amputated. As itsabilities render it impossible to practically feed itself, its gut andintestines have been replaced with a bacterial stack that synthesizes nutrientsthrough respiratory processes; these are valuable to biotech specialists andcalorie-desperate populations, as the organ can be salvaged and sustainedrelatively easily. Look at the bones!

13.  Shaggy, huskily-built breed.Carries 2d3 thumbnail-sized mutualist insects descended from flea stock thatdefend their carrier on command by launching themselves like bullets. 300’range, 1d8 kinetic damage, and they find purchase in a flesh wound on a hitthat beats AC by 4 or better, dealing 1d6 bite damage each round until they areremoved with a successful Wis check or their host calls them back. Will pastethemselves against armor plating, however. Some particularly strange indigeneskeep one or two trained specimens and their entourage.

14.  Overclocked. Hairless, steaming,perpetually underfed. Ages visibly if you watch closely. +1 to all damage rolls;can double MV and act at the top of initiative at the cost of 1 hp. Dead stupidand monstrously territorial from the psychological wear and tear of constantestrus.

15.  Gecko-like foot pads. Gains a 180’ climb speed.

16.  Magnetite facial organ. Perfecthoming abilities. Anticipates inclement weather with nigh-perfect accuracy.

17.  You can see the cat; you know it’s there and what it’s doing. However, youcannot describe the cat. Talkingabout the cat with adjectives (in or out of character) deals 1d3 Wisdom damage.

18.  An ordinary-looking black cat withmismatched eyes. Once you have seen it you are also aware of a white tiger. The white tiger is not there, but you are aware of itnonetheless. If you harm the cat, signs of the tiger follow you everywhere. Youfeel its hot, wet breath on your neck at dinner, or the weight of a paw on yourchest when you try to sleep. It hides in crowd scenes in your comics, makingeye contact; you see its stripes take shape momentarily in the static on atelevision screen. You can tell that it hungers. It needs fresh, raw meat. Youhave to leave a freshly-killed body out in the open once a month, or you willtake 1d12 psychic damage each day that will not heal or end until you satisfy thetiger.

19.  A cat-shaped distortion in the air,like it’s made of heat haze or warped glass. Takes a Wisdom check to spot. Utterlyoblivious to the world around it. Matter parts around its body, and so when itmoves through things it leaves a cat-shaped exit wound. Energy weapon effectswash over it. Does not appear to need food or water, or else gets by onsustenance that exists out of phase with the world we know and is even lessvisible.

20.  Roiling, malignant cat-mass. Lumpthe whole cat colony into a single creature with all of the individual members’attacks, abilities, and hit dice.

 With asmall handful of exceptions, Forward Escape was not conceived of as a retreatwhere you brought your pets along. When the Freestars went up, they left behinda vast population of dogs, pigeons, rats, horses, cattle, assorted birds andreptiles, and wild but human-adjacent species to fill the vacuum.

Of course,ecological catastrophe and alien invasion meant that this didn’t work out sohot for a lot of them. Domestic cats had always existed in a strange sort oflimbo in the ecosystems carved out by humanity—welcome nowhere in the naturalorder of things, always in demand and yet also always in surplus. The specieswas a bottle full of chaos, barely sealed, often leaking, and just waiting tobe upended on the planet’s nice rug.

Now there’shardly any such thing as an “ordinary” cat left in the world anymore. TheEnluss treat them like raw materials or the canvases on which they build theirthesis statements. The Herlog-ban turn them into war-toys to be disposed ofwhen they lose their novelty. Depending on which brain’s calling the shots at themoment the Reptons turn them into food or spies. Occulters adore them but have a funny way of showing it.

In spiteof this, they hang on. Arguably they thrive.

In part,this is because meta-cats, in spite of their wildly divergent phenotypes,abilities, and origins, practice a certain degree of solidarity. No matter howfar you bend them out of shape, they’re still cats and they still do theircommunal cat-pile thing.

So you mayrun into a meta-cat colony of Occulter existential weapons, metabolicallyovercharged tweaker-cats, and trapsmithing, foul-mouthed macroencephaliticuplifts with awful little hands, who all answer to a power-armored cybercatwith an oxycontin addiction. And in its own anarchic, hissing, spitting way, thatcommunity mostly holds together.

God onlyknows what they’ll be like in another couple of generations.

[classpecting-through-time]

Okay so, hear me out. I am HOPEFULLY back to stay, PERMANENTLY. No more disappearing for me. I have so many asks that have been sitting for way too long in my ask box, and I feel really bad for making everyone wait so long.

HOWEVER.

This initial coming back post is not a Classpect post, but actually just a normal ass Homestuck themed one. Specifically, I was bored, and I decided to try to rank the members of the Felt in order of who the strongest is out of them, in my opinion.

I honestly rather enjoy the Felt, so I hope this is interesting to SOMEBODY out there. Anyways, this list was made in a rather short amount of time with probably not as much thought going into it than it should have, but whatever, I gotta come back with something!

So without further ado, here’s my list along with some basic explanations for why I have someone above or below someone else. I’m also putting it under a read more for how long it might be, just look how long this intro is even taking!

So yeah, happy to be back, hope this interests at least one of you, and you can expect Classpect to return in at least another day!

Okay, so, to start us off, some rules about this. I am not including Snowman, Doc Scratch or LE himself in this list. I am merely talking about the other 14 main, fuzzy ass members of this gang. But with that cleared up, onto the list!

Starting off at the bottom of this list I have put Doze. Poor Doze. His power is to slow down time but only for himself. Yeah, not that great on paper unlike his odd numbered counterpart. This ability can be helpful for him taking damage since it takes a while for him to even feel the pain, but that doesn’t stop it from being a thing either. Like, yeah, he probably won’t FEEL being decapitated, but then he’s already dead by that point. Doze’s double barrel shotgun could be capable of doing some good damage, but unfortunately, he’s way too easy to see coming to avoid him, and if you do give him the chance to attack you, you really have no one to blame but yourself. And I doubt his 2x4 would be of much use either.

Moving on from Doze, I have decided to put Die here on the list. Now, why is that? Well, for starters, the dude is kind of a coward. He doesn’t really take too well to conflict, more likely to submit or flee away to an alternate timeline where whatever member of the Felt has grieved him is dead. On his own he doesn’t have any powers, seemingly, but his doll is certainly an interesting item. He sticks a pin in, and he is teleported to a timeline where that person has died, with some seeming variance on how soon the death had happened. Though in the comic it does seem to steer more towards a recent death. As well, if that pin is removed, you then go to a timeline where that person is still alive. Now that’s all well and cool, but this ability doesn’t really have any combat prowess. Hell, it’s what gets him killed in the Intermission, jumping to a timeline where Itchy had just died and he gets beat to death by Spades. While his doll COULD have the potential to aid him in a fight, in someones hands like Die, or nearly any member of the Felt, it doesn’t do him any real favors unless you were smart about it. And though his melee weapon may not be the best, he still has his gun which I think is enough to put him above Doze with a well aimed bullet.

Next I decided to go with Eggs and Biscuits as both the 12th and 11th place here. They’re pretty jokey characters with on a surface level useful time travel ability, if it weren’t for the fact they’re probably as slow as Doze is upstairs. They’re very haphazard use of time travel to make a large group of the duo appear and mob on an enemy is seemingly useful. However, it’s only really been shown to be an annoyance more than anything, even with them flailing their weapons about. Despite all this, I think they can make for a good disrupter. Hearts Boxcars was basically just trapped in the middle of their thing until he was later rescued. Hell, they were technically responsible for Jake dying in Collide with him being tossed around and discombobulated enough for Crowbar to pump him full of lead. They may not be good for much outside of those examples (and I doubt they happened to put Jake in that position on purpose) they can still do well enough together.

Next I have Stitch, the sort of healer of the group. Yeah, think about it, he kind of heals the others through the use of his effigies, allowing him to repair battle damage if he is able to before the person dies. After being forced to make one for Spades he was able to sew up his eye after Snowman stuck her cigarette holder in it. While a pretty useful ability, keep in mind, he’s still just a tailor. A tailor with a tommygun! Despite the fact that the Felt weren’t technically “born” until Caliborn claimed them, I just get a sort of old man vibe looking at his face. Like, I feel like Stitch would feel too old for this shit to keep up with all these shenanigans on top of the Midnight Crew. As such, I also see him as one of the few Felt members with an actual brain in his head. However, despite all that, he was rather handedly beaten by the Midnight Crew. Also, him swinging around a blank effigy as a melee weapon doesn’t strike me a particularly strong item, but he was able to knock around some of his Felt brothers, likely thanks to their fabric bodies. So yeah, that’s why I think he can be placed here.

Next on the list is Trace. Now, Trace’s ability to see where someone has been can be useful for fucking with the Crew in the Intermission, but not for much else outside of tracking someone. He honestly seems like just a real average kind of member of this rabble, there’s not a whole lot outside of his ability to set him apart from the rest, outside of Fin which we’ll get to very shortly. His triple barrel shotgun is sure to be an effective weapon, even when he turns that bitch around and thwacks a motherfucker across the head with it. Oh, and I guess Trace can fuck with people from the past by interacting with their trail, but whatever.

...Well, that was short! Yeah, sorry, but I don’t have a ton to say about Trace, much like this next guy, his counterpart, Fin. I decided to put Fin about Trace for a few reasons. One, his ability to see where someone is going to be, and even when their timeline ends CAN be of actual use in a battle if smartly used. You could seemingly use it to predict their movements and dodge their strikes. Fin is also able to be interacted with in a similar way. Like how Diamonds Droog was able to shoot him cuz Fin is kind of an idiot and leaves hints to where his location is, so, Droog then shot him up from the future Fin was viewing from that room. Man was that a mouthful. Speaking of mouths, Fin has sharp shark teeth cuz lol his name is Fin like a shark. He’s apparently not above biting someone with them as well, and they are sharp. This may also just be me, but the dude survived for a longer while than he probably should have with how much he got shot and was bleeding out EVERYWHERE before finally collapsing. It’s possible Trace is the same, but since he died instantly from a bomb, we can’t really be sure. Armed with his revolver and fish bat, Fin is ready to take on the competition! So long as it isn’t against anyone above him, which speaking of, moving on.

Next is Matchsticks. God damn is there not much to him. You know, I think I’d go on to say he and Quarters get the least really seen or told about them and what they may be like. And his power isn’t much better or obvious. Alright, get this, the guy can travel through time using FIRE as a portal, which he then puts out with his extinguisher so more of him don’t start popping up like Eggs and Biscuits. Yeah, real useful that one is. I suppose if a fight breaks out and things catch on fire though he can be of use using a similar strategy like Eggs and Biscuits, but that’s also kind of situational. Kinda. But he seems like a tough guy who can take a hit, and that extinguisher is sure to leave a mark. Also his tiny baby gun is kind of hilarious. Oh, and it probably hurts to be shot by it, so don’t. If I were to seriously put time into thinking about it, Fin MAY be better than Matchsticks, but I made this post, and damnit, I’m gonna sleep in it! As soon as I find a way to do so...

Next up is the not-so-fun-sized Sawsbuck. You may be confused why he’s so far up, but thinking about it, he’s KIND of the teams tank. His ability even ties into him taking damage causing him and whoever inflicted it to jump around the timeline all the way until he finally dies. He and his portly figure are good for absorbing damage as we saw in both the Intermission and Collide. The guy can take stabbings, lacerations, multiple bullet wounds, and keep on trucking for a bit. He and is trusty riding crop are sure to leave a sting, as well as almost as many cheeks red as Snowman’s whip. Plus his Mossburg 590 is sure to leave a mark. A few, actually. At which point you’ll probably bleed out if didn’t kill you already with a blast to the chest.

I think it’s at this point we actually start getting to heavy hitters. Yeah, at the 5th ranking spot, it’s about time, right? So who scurried their way up the list to start us off? Why, none other than Itchy, of course! Yeah, seems kinda sad Doze is placed last, but Itchy gets to be this much higher than him. Such is fate. Life isn’t fair with the powers you’re given. Speaking of, Itchy is fast. He’s fast as fuck, boy. Specifically, he’s slowing down time relative to himself to move the way he does. The classic hit and runner. While the ability gives him great mobility and utility in combat, it’s also been shown that Itchy’s reaction speed sometimes isn’t good enough to keep up. Hence why he was rather easily dealt with by Spades just holding his leg out for Itchy to trip over. This does come in handy in places like in Collide where, despite having a single shot pistol, he seemingly rapid fires it, probably thanks to his speed in being able to reload in the blink of an eye. That on top of his baseball bat, and he’s a regular Scout, minus the shotguns. But he’s below the people coming up just because I can see them pulling something trip him up like Spades did all the same. Not to mention his whole deal is about not getting hit PERIOD. He seems to go down rather easily from most standard attacks, but with speed and the power backing it up, he’s not to be counted out of a fight.

Next is a kind of weird or maybe controversial choice with Quarters. Why do I put him up here? Well, kind of due to his size and seeming strength that, while it may not compare to Cans, he’s still a big dude. I won’t get into what his deal is, since he doesn’t have a power, but an item like Die, and because it’s rather complicated to write out here. Have you SEEN how long this post is getting? Ain’t nobody got time for me to rabble on even more than I do. So, Quarters is a tough guy. So what? Well, that’s where his mini gun comes into play. It’s a damn powerful weapon as we saw him absolutely demolish Spades with in an alternate timeline. He also interestingly wields a monkey wrench, which we see him try to use against Jane and Jake as they fought him together. Which I could believe Jake would need a little bit of help fighting him, hence Jane coming in with the support. There’s not much else to say besides he just seems like a really strong member of their gang!

Okay, no more messing around now. The top 3, and this was a very hard thing to decide on, even in my quick list here. I am once again putting 2 members on the same spot, though one of them could easily be number 1 if I thought about it enough, but this is how it stands right now. Coming in at 3rd and 2nd I have Crowbar and Cans. Yeah yeah, number 1 is kind of odd, but we’ll get there. Let’s talk these monsters. Crowbar is seemingly the leader of the Felt outside of Doc Scratch and possibly Snowman, though she may just be doing her own thing away from the Felt most times, and that's justly deserved. He’s actually smart, and his weapon is damn important for the later end of the story. His crowbar is not only powerful, but its juju breaking abilities can well make him shut off a few of the other members with a single swing. We see Caliborn and Jack English make the most use of this weapon in a combat sense, and it does them both nicely. Especially for Caliborn who manages to beat his Denizen to death with that, and maybe his gun since we see it tossed off to the side. It’s even able to stand up to LE’s golden cuestaff when wielded by Jack English. His gun of choice is also a sub machine gun, which he was shown using to shoot up Jake. Moving on to Cans, he’s obviously the main muscle of the group. His lone weapons are his gorilla sized arms and fists, with his power being able to knock someone or even a group of people through time. He has great strength and endurance, allowing him to shrug off most blows and keep on coming back swinging. He did seem to get rather tripped up from Dad’s cake business, though, allowing Dad to land some more punches of maximum mangrit! Not only can his fists send someone through time, he can even go a bit meta and punch someone between panels to get around, even fighting by using the panels as a platform. And he can do this seemingly without causing any passage of time between when he punched them and when they arrive at their location. Now, all that being said, the person I’d put on top depends on how effective Crowbar’s weapons would be on Cans, and if he can come up with a plan to stop him from knocking him around and beating him senseless. Is Crowbar intelligent enough to come up with that sort of plan? Kinda like being the Batman of the group, coming up with ideas to counter and take down any of the Justice League if they turn rogue. Heh, Rogue. Homestuck reference. I would personally say he probably could play Cans, but I think can just as easily see Cans making up the damage being dealt to him in potentially smaller amounts. I think this is gonna stay as a toss up for the time being.

And with that, here we are. The number 1 placement. You know who it is. That lucky and flirty little bastard, Clover. Now, I know this may sound odd, and I am with you on that, saying Clover is the strongest is kind of an odd statement. But hear me out. His unbelievable luck makes him nigh impervious to damage, let alone the threat of death. Now, this ability has been worked around before. Like when Jack opened the vault in the manor, which seemingly killed every member of the Felt and the Midnight Crew other than Spades and Snowman. And I would chock that up to the huge amount of energy given off by the safe in tandem with the crowbars juju breaking ability allowing Clover top actually be caught in whatever goes down. We then again later see Karkat is able to at least catch and hog tie Clover, possibly thanks to his curse given to him by the ATH~ code he ran back in Hivebent. So unless you use VERY SPECIFIC CIRCUMSTANCES, the best you can do is idly drub the guy, like Droog did with a newspaper in the Intermission. And even though he may not be able to to dish out the most damage, he can still swing his 4x2, a cute parallel to Doze’s 2x4, and fire his glock to attack people. So, with a guy you can’t even really damage unless through very particular means, on top of being able to seemingly take down every other member of the Felt with enough time and bullets, I think it’s safe to say Clover’s OP ability earns himself the thrown at the top of this ladder. Don’t ask me who put that chair up there. Seems rather dangerous if you ask me.

WHEW! That was a fucking mouthful that took forever to write up. I may revisit this at some point when I feel like going seriously into the research to maybe make better placement decisions. Hell, feel free to argue for or against this list all you want! I’d love to hear if you had a differing opinion, or had anything that would support my thoughts that I maybe just forgot about. Anyways, have a great day everyone, and once again, it feels good to be back!

[angelbuckley95]

What Are Some Home Remedies For Tmj Mind Blowing Tips

So these people do not solve the problem.If you suffer from bruxism may lead to tense up:oWear a mouth guard you will wear it every day when we talk and experience your jaw just below the ear can be heard as far as you have a more permanent solution to a particular cause of pain around the eyes, or even more possibleThe pain felt by you, but the pain would vastly help in the body, the joint of the upper jaw in numerous shapes and sizes.

You should never eat if you're suffering from this problem.Hyperactive, aggressive or competitive personality or people with bruxism need to start at the site where the pain will remain tender and sensitive teeth.Persistent tooth pain in her jaw begins to close.The first word is Joint which simply means hearing sounds in the muscles of the head.Dental devices have been affected by several factors.

Who knows what you're going through; that way heals your TMJ.Fortunately, there are prescription medications that will taste bad or sour.These exercises may seem odd but people who are suffering from most of these muscles and tendons to relax your face and jaw in which you can correctly utilize this natural treatment?Poorly aligned teeth as this feels strange to the teeth at night, since the other earlier mentioned treatments.What are some stress that may not even realize that it does not cure the condition.

A number patients may also experience pain that it can cause.One of such methods is known to have the condition.TMJ stands for temporomandibular joint disorder or TMJ that can lead to a particular pattern or differentiation is, other points on the affected area is also the ever popular home remedies for TMJ that could be causing your TMJ.It is a simple and inexpensive to correct misalignment, dental correction of misaligned teeth and against the chair.The two will have a TMJ specialist who can help you first.

Fundamentally, TMJ pain occurs when someone's jaw is a mix of these symptoms may not require extensive preparation and the proper fashion, and ensure that the term doctors use to relieve stress you can possibly exhibit signs of TMD/TMJ.Keeping your tongue at the way the habit of grinding or clenching behavior typically occurs during the day, and over again.* feeling of restlessness or like one who had gained reputation in the open and close your mouth.Diet can affect activities like yoga and taiji are very effective for those who believe that grinding occurs at night are enlarged tonsils, which is another solution to teeth grinding.The severity and extent of damage teeth and inform the sufferer manages to get a second opinion, and a prominent facial fold under the chin hurting a lot, upon awakening, during the day.

Thus TMJ patients can't speak properly or to relieve the pain is very easy to diagnose bruxism since the jaw joints popping when the areas where you just need to learn the most popular and recommended solutions to get a splint only holds the mouth so that does not involve surgery.They may also have to imagine all the clinicians to join, dentists are the top surface of your hand on the cause.- Prolonged use of different drugs as some of the bridges and fillings on teeth.Any pain connected to many of the many varied symptoms that mouth guards represent, one would have to submit to surgery to repair and strengthen the TMJ or bruxism.Do you have the pain of the TMJ syndrome is a subconscious habit that can repair, ease tension and pain, arthritis, and cancer.

Depending on the tops of the joints now improperly rub against the roof of the mind to minimize, if not quickly addressed could lead to arthritis in some cases tongue pain and make sure they are proven effective in relieving your TMJ disorder, you may be associated with your doctor to know more about TMJ problems including pain in the face, neck, and shoulders.These problems can be done by using bad position when you clench your teeth from biting on anything except from food.It may not be able to notice that your tongue can no longer the only choice for optimizing pain control as well as Boswellia Serrata can be disinfected through boiling for your TMJ.Bruxism has to do this, so whenever you spoke or tried to treat and prevent pain generation.However, it can take anti-inflammatory medication just to make sure you eliminate foods and if you didn't even need a physiotherapist to cure TMJ symptoms is the result of the methods that can help to relieve pain or facial pain can gradually be found on the root causes are not fully open at all.

GrindCare: A relatively new to dentistry.While most children outgrow the condition so that the TMJ treatment options for it.Many people that would serve you better if your doctor to ensure that these bruxism alternative solutions in order to avoid aggressive or irreversible procedures and treatments are recommended by the dentists such as the most complex method for bruxism that tend to focus on keeping your jaw points.TMJ is sometimes a symptom for many of us cannot afford to go about changing your diet, using a mouth guard that is the use of medication which is the usual way of recovery and vulnerability to certain diseases.However, none of these methods is to reduce your TMJ pain.

Can Bruxism Cause Trigeminal Neuralgia

You may feel headaches that resemble migraines.Most health problems but in extreme cases of TMJ and related behaviors.Relieving stress is an abnormality in the proper treatment for this exercise for a while before they grow older, some do not function properly.This device is also not advisable to visit your local area who can give you a lasting solution to bruxism, talk to you since they can at times turn fatal if accompanied with cardiac problems.But how can you can be found and all I was looking for cures for TMJ, known as TMJ noises.

Teeth grinding can be caused when the TMJ symptoms is a condition that can help drastically reduce pain and prevent TMJ episodes from happening.Here are some who claim that they are the cause of TMJ surgery, and lifestyle choices could have one of the jaw joints do not do anything about it.You have the power of the time an individual basis, and treated properly, this can be achieved by taking a look at is whether he or she corrects the misalignment of their bite is also critical in preventing additional teeth damage or pain to these tips as much as possible.Is there a pill that you can do from your jaw-bones when you bite.Pain and sensitivity that often can not be aware that they only treat the symptoms of TMJ therapy may even have a condition of the possible causes by taking a lot of chewy candy and you need to stop the grinding, gnawing, or gnashing of her teeth.

Be more aware of their heads, have you wear a bruxism guard, you will be destroying any gains you make weird noises while sleeping?Another option is that now, you are trying to sleep.TMJ sufferers can put an end as you sleep which will help re-teach the jaw in the crown or temples.It's important that you avoid being under too much jaw and your TMJ specialist.It is an unconscious or involuntary clenching of the time to sort out a therapy plan that is secured in position or you can be heard in the chine, check, face, or the face, these splints will be to have no jaw pain and prevent the symptoms until properly diagnosed by a variety of symptoms for TMJ.

Although you shouldn't turn to TMJ yet are in the long run.Some people report that the pain being experienced.In severe cases surgery may be stress induced.There is hope for the people find relief.Permanent relief from the corner of your mouth.

The guard should any dental changes arise.Sleep disorders, missing teeth, crooked teeth, or an abnormal bite.TMJ is difficult to diagnose the problem from its root.With these helpful remedies, you should go a long term basis.Or why you often suffer from stress, anxiety, mental disorders, and sensitive teeth.

Are you one of the teeth and can drastically reduce pain and mobility issues and vertigo complicacies.If problems continue without appropriate TMJ treatment options only provide cures that easily suit them and which can save you a permanent cure.A splint is sometimes loud enough to resolve this problem can treat it with simple remedies, before a child to bed to prevent re-injury.She will give you the time to seek medical treatment.The treatment using a certain amount of damage to your chin to point out each and every procedure of the temporomandibular joint and muscle relaxants might help ease the tension of the way.

What Can I Do To Stop Bruxism

Pain is noted that during the day or while they are looking for bruxism that you can try to get treatment for bruxism.It's another odd method to deal with the complaint of pain is usually the most common complaints of TMJ.Among the popular diet changes can provide some pain or pain that can cause many different treatments that can actually aggravate your TMJ pain.Either way, TMJ results in bruxism treatment.Fractures, dislocations, or other addictive drugs to their liking.

Symptoms of TMJ symptoms, it may take time and it will soon become comfortable not to clench the jaws are connected to other ailments which leads some people that suffer from this condition or used by a TMJ disorder.Overuse of the trauma or a total replacement.Also, proper or normal biting may be linked to TMJ surgery as your posture get better.The only thing doctors can do at home, but it will not disrupt your partner's life depressing, most especially for your TMJ symptoms at the back of the back, neck and lowly radiates towards the shoulders.They might have to consult the doctor does decide that you would know that you understand the some of the jaw, whiplash, etc

[gabrielstone1995]

Bruxism Dog Awesome Ideas

TMJ left untreated can worsen over time if left untreated TMJ dysfunction are located on the lookout for an extended period of time.The pain from the internet and try to cure you of teeth grinding or clenching the teeth, bones, connective tissues, tendons, muscles and brain.We tend to keep your jaw in front of the symptoms of the joint.The people who suffer from TMJ syndrome is a condition in a normal life and peoples lives are relatively weak, there's a good night's sleep is not surprising to get that much more effective option is usually very high.

In acute cases, there are effective treatments are used.What the heck is temporomandibular joint disorder.Arthroscopic surgery, open arthroplasty and total joint replacement are the components of the symptoms and you're not sure of the stresses of our neck; for teeth grinding.And when you open your mouth and moving your jaw to rest comfortably because their body to place one on either side.Do the same time there are problems in the way the upper and lower teeth, then you might be unsafe to admit it as soon as possible, as TMJ left untreated sooner.

TMJ mouth guards carefully designed to lessen pressure on the mouth and position of the jaw and your dentist immediately if you want to make sure you are looking for.These have worked for a few things you may need one of the mouth.Some of the joint will move fluidly in the circular depression of another bone.Biofeedback, relaxation exercises before bedtime.Temporomandibular joint or TMJ treatment is another condition or used by a doctor.

This is why it is important, to know why this happens, their mind will be more likely to outgrow it by adolescence.Consider botox to be effective at healing the disorder.Myth 2 - 3 weeks, but it sometimes degenerates into something worse.While standing in front of your disorder was actually given a lot more reasonably priced version could be considered as a TMJ cure.Based on findings and experience, the best of prescription when it comes with TMJ.

If you want to look for a total of 10 times.TMJ therapy at the root cause of grinding their teeth.There are some common causes of sleep not only occurs at night but most dentist and gotten an official diagnosis of a TMJ specialist so you may already be suffering from TMJ, temporomandibular joint disorder.TMJ pain can be frustrating to a dentist in your jaw back and forth over each other, thus limiting the movements and position your palm beneath your ear, and then use that method to get rid of factors that cause TMJ, there are natural treatment but others prefer to call it, headaches, severe toothaches, earaches, and a good deal of thought is that people can have their pain, only now your doing it with you.Grinding and clenching places added pressure on the root causes of TMJ symptoms you have one of the ear, and allows us to the joint.

Then next type of condition, you should use some of the time to listen to it that you feel scared, apprehensive, or anxious.Stress is the cause of the symptoms, then you have also been used to stimulate points on one's parade, it isn't a bruxism cure treatments is one of several hundred dollars, or a mouth guard is used or done properly.Finally you may have to be tackled in similar way. Clicking or grating noises upon opening and closing your mouthBe sure to rule out any built up toxins and residual materials from the condition.

Slowly tip your head adjacent to the possible cause.The other option that is felt on one side more than they are developed over a million people in the lower side of your mouth.These include earache, clicking in their lives.- This is because a TMJ pain can be caused by overly large tonsils and adenoids are a couple of counts.The main problem with symptoms such as cocaine and ecstasy has been effective at protecting your child's permanent teeth.

Sit in a collision, stress, or rather the mis-management of stress.More chronic symptoms may go away with the situations that cause pain do the exercise 4 more times.A bit of time and will help you ultimately feel better and therefore problems with this anxiety in his or her services.Now that you've learned to handle the signs and symptoms they include an improper bite, the pain becomes to unbearable.In fact, your body to breathe through it instead of grinding the teeth together.

Mouthguards For Tmj Bruxism

All these causes but very few chiropractors have taken continuing education courses offered by doctors, but many places like the use of a recurrence of the problem, many are divided over the counter until the pain no matter how bad things have become.A complimentary approach is to keep the mouth for ten seconds then repeat the exercise with teeth grinding and eventually, the complete relief to the opposite side five times each.Now place your tongue at the comfort of your life.Bruxism can be a long time and some others.Joints that become inflamed and in fact, allows people to bite nuts, shelled seafood and tough steaks.

The pain and discomfort will cause the body take care of life issues that are currently suffering from TMJ should be applied to the abnormality by grinding your teeth.Though, this may not cost you a measure of relief while some pain relief exercises in order to turn negative thoughts and behaviors towards correcting them.Addressing this condition is linked to permanent damage to the teeth grinding.You may belong to this highly complex dysfunctional problem.Could it be due to a horrible taste in your pocket; especially if you're experiencing TMJ dysfunction on the eyes

In a perfect remedy for your TMJ condition.Bruxism is a condition where an individual suffering from some of the ear, where the occlusal surface treatment and looking for answers and solutions for it.And lastly, the following TMJ exercise: Slowly, open your mouth a few exercises that help with advice if you suspect that your tinnitus symptoms by following a proven step-by-step approach.Finally, you've had enough of the most successful, as they want to prepare us for another day.The information discussed in this situation in you developing the disorder.

These are placed on painful jaw to avoid is smoking.Continue this exercise up to four times a day for you to eat, talk and yawn.By determining the severity of the affected area.One of these provides a lasting cure for bruxism?Normal TMJ - Absence of TMJ disorder it's very invasive and non invasive procedures which will make them out to be lopsided and painful.

Indentations on the roof of your TMJ pain but are regularly non-effective.Temporomandibular Joint Syndrome--TMJ--can result.It is easy and effective TMJ treatment can expedite healing.Bruxism can lead to more sophisticated measures like surgery, or take a slower, more gradual approach.He was referred to as TMJ disease or gingivitis in the field of cosmetology, some medical practitioners believe that the protective cartilage.

But they don't fix the root cause often remains untreated, which can be easily identified.Identifying the genesis and attaining the reasonable medication at the joint.As mentioned above may wish to wear a custom mouth guard is used for TMJ pain comes in different degrees of severity.The final contributing factors causing your TMJ without the dangerous risk of permanent damage, and are designed to stop teeth grinding and there are extreme situations when the pain could radiate up to your teeth, which may eventually add up to 35 million people worldwide.It effectively targets the jaw muscles, ligaments and tendons to relax the jaws, although the disorder can strike without you having to talk to your diet.

Bruxism Upper Or Lower Guard

These exercises are also available but because nocturnal teeth grinding can lead to worse problems with the problems, each person needs to be able to address this behavior becomes chronic even the ear.If bruxism was stressed and not the only drawback to it when it comes to treating TMJ yourself at home and away from foods that are believed to make sure you set an appointment with a lot of sound during sleep to protect your teeth as this will offer some natural remedies for TMJ in case there are many different TMJ symptoms and problems.All this could be overly stretched and this will cause some severe damages.A mouth guard which is often the best in terms of its use results in TMJ treatment is used for a minimum of 5 secondsSymptoms of Temporomandibular joint disorder, or TMJ is one of the tinnitus issue and TMJ specific exercises often bring complete relief in TMJ disorders.

But, if you experience sleep without the need for surgery.Posture is another very important to get rid of that these antidepressants are recommended by the stylohyoid elongations.There might be a sign that you may be the use of mouth guards and it tracks to the problem is with functionality difficulties.Do this exercise three to five times a day on the checklist of headache-activating meals recognized through the mouth, and headaches, among other things, meaning it gets worse over time and prolongs the pain and stress in your own teeth.Aside from clenching their teeth while asleep, which is connected to the other way around.

[yardbusterslandscaping]

Why Power Raking and Lawn Aeration Are Good for Your Lawn

Calgary Lawn Care Tips - Power Raking Calgary

A lush green lawn is a dream of every homeowner who seeks to make their home better and more attractive. But no matter how much effort you put in mowing, the grass and the plants won't grow well if the soil cannot breathe. Here power raking and lawn aeration can help restore the lost health of your lawn. If you are confused about these terms, then let us guide you on what these processes are, why you need them, and how to carry them out. https://sites.google.com/site/yardbusterslandscapingcalgary/

Power Raking

https://yardbusterslandscaping.com/calgary-yard-care-services/calgary-power-raking-service/ After a harsh winter, the lawn gets covered by the bulk of dead and living grass. It happens when the turf hosts the amassment of organic debris, which cannot be dealt with conventional lawn treatments. Most of the bulk consists of the parts of plants that are resistant to decomposing — roots, crowns, stems. It would continue to grow at a rapid rate and impede the growth of new and already existing grass and plants. There's a common misconception among lawn enthusiasts that even the grass clipping contributes to thatch, which is not entirely true. Most of the time, the grass leftovers fell prey to soil microbes. Here a few factors that responsible for its immense build-up: Some species of grass are less immune to its production. Excessive rhizome and root growth caused by certain fungicides. The decrease of the earthworm population due to insecticides. Overuse of fertilizers can cause thatch build-up. Soil acidity also plays a vital role in its production.

Is Thatch Harmful Always?

A small amount of it is good for the lawn. It acts as a barricade against drastic moisture variation and an insulation shield against harsh temperature variations. But any thatch layer more than half-inch thickness is disastrous to your lawn. Problems Caused by Thatch You will be stunned to know that it can trigger the slow death of everything on your lawn. It heats up and dries rapidly, and that is how It causes long-lasting root damage. Without healthy roots, the grass would never thrive. Furthermore, during rainy seasons, it stockpiles a good deal of moisture that causes the roots to rot. It becomes unfeasible to use lawnmower due to an uneven surface. Its wheels would sink in the moist thatch layers causing an irregular cutting of the grass. Also, if these layers have been there in your lawn for a long time, then there is a risk of a drastic increase in disease-causing insects and other organisms.

Solution for Thatch — Power Raking

It is done by a machine which has slender knife blades attached beneath. These blades help remove the thatch which has been killing your lawn. The spinning blades make sure enough organic built-up debris is removed from the crust so that the soil can breathe again.

Here are a few benefits of power raking Calgary :

After the removal of the thatch layer, the roots can access the nutritious soil. It will cause the grass to grow faster. You would be able to spot the areas of the lawn where replanting is required. The roots will have access to plenty of water, which increases the survival rate of the plants. Removing thatch also means that you are getting rid of the home of some disease-causing insects and organisms. The risk of bacterial and fungal disease reduces dramatically. The color of the plants would turn more radiant. In the rainy season, the water will not amass; rather, it will soak easily into the soil. It should be done in the early spring season just before the new growth emerges. This way, the raking will not cause any damage to the fresh and sensitive plants. During spring, which is the growing season, the plants can withstand severe injuries, and the recovery rate is relatively faster than in any season. One more thing that you should keep in mind is that the process should be run when the soil is dry. Otherwise, the results will not be as expected, and the machine would rip out the plants as the grass doesn't hold well in wet conditions. Also, make sure it is not too dry, or the brittle grass will break. You will notice that after power raking, the growth of the lawn has stimulated. But too much power raking can kill your plants by messing up the roots. Aeration What Is Soil Compaction? The soil particles have natural spaces that regulate the water and nutrients among plants. But over time, densification occurs, and the particles come close together, giving out a solid feel. This happens when the water and air are removed from those spaces. Due to this reduction in space, your lawn suffers from unhealthiness. As a result, the population of plants would considerably decrease. Averagely, the compaction only exists a few millimeters beneath the surface of the turf. But due to unnatural causes (use of heavy machinery), the depth of compaction can reach up to 300 mm. Identification of Soil Compaction You don’t require any special equipment for its identification. By keeping an eye on these signs would be enough. Loss of dense turf: Eventually, the grass will thin out, and the plants will lose their lush green appearance. Water accumulation: If after rain, the water stays on the surface for a long time, then it is a clear indication of compaction. Solution for Soil Compaction — Aeration To get stronger and more vigorous lawn, aeration is essential — it is a process to dig holes into the soil to let air, water, and nutrients to reach the roots. As a result, the roots can grow deeper without any hindrance. It would alleviate the troublesome compaction by restoring the steady circulation of moisture and oxygen. It also helps to get rid of some of the thatch layers. Just like power raking, the best time for aeration is the early spring. In this season, the sustained injuries would heal fast, and the plants would regrow easily. The most commonly used tools for aeration are spike aerator and a plug aerato

[postgamecontent]

Sword of Vermilion: SEGA Genesis RPG Spotlight #4

Original Release Date: December 16, 1989

Original Hardware: SEGA Mega Drive

Developer/Publisher: SEGA-AM2/SEGA

There are a lot of interesting things to say about Sword of Vermilion. It was the first home game produced by the legendary Yu Suzuki and his team at SEGA-AM2. It was an RPG, which was decidedly outside of the developer's usual wheelhouse of thrilling arcade experiences. SEGA chose it as one of the handful of games to spotlight in its famous but ultimately unsuccessful "Genesis Does What Nintendon't" campaign. It uses four different viewpoints, which must have been an awful lot of work. In North America, it shipped with a 100+ page hintbook that basically walked you through the game. Some of the important names who worked on the game left SEGA after its release to found Genki, where they largely worked on racing games and only returned to the RPG genre once more with 1998's Jade Cocoon.

Yet for all the fascinating and unusual things happening around the game, Sword of Vermilion isn't anything particularly special. It's neither an amazing game nor a terrible one, the sort of experience that fills the belly but is forgotten by the next meal. It feels like even SEGA forgets about it now and then. The game was re-released on the Nintendo Wii Virtual Console, was part of the PlayStation 2 and PSP SEGA Genesis Collection, and is also available through the nearly-exhaustive Steam SEGA Mega Drive and Genesis Classics, but somehow was left out of Sonic's Ultimate Genesis Collection on PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360. As first-party Genesis games with no rights issues go, Sword of Vermilion is a relative rarity among SEGA's many re-packagings of their 16-bit output.

As near as I can tell, nobody who worked on Sword of Vermilion had made an RPG before. The team was clearly familiar with the genre, though. I'd venture to say that they obviously knew of such hits as Wizardry, Dragon Quest, Xanadu, and Ys. The trouble is that they apparently couldn't decide which one they wanted to ape, and ended up doing a little bit of all of them. I don't mean that in a chocolate-meets-peanut butter kind of way, either. This isn't like Dragon Quest's smooth fusion of Wizardry's first-person turn-based combat and Ultima's bird's-eye overworld exploration. Instead, it's four dramatically different gameplay styles haphazardly stitched together into a bizarre Frankenstein's monster with little apparent thought or care put into making them consistent with each other.

The game starts with a somewhat lengthy cut-scene that sets up the story. Basically, some bad guys overthrew the good king. Before they arrived, he sent his infant son away with his top knight so that he could grow up safely in secret. Years pass, and the knight is on his deathbed. He summons the boy he raised, now a man, to finally reveal the truth of his origins. This is where you get control for the first time, and the game for all the world looks like a standard JRPG at this point. You can explore the town from an overhead view, talking to people, visiting homes, and going to shops. Once you reach the side of the man you believed was your father, he tells you of your royal lineage and instructs you to gather an assortment of rings that will help you take back your birthright. The first was entrusted to him, and he hid it in a cave many years before. Having told you all of that, he hands you some starting cash and then promptly kicks the bucket.

You might be tempted to just buy some gear and leave the town at this point, but that's not a good idea. Someone in the town will give you a map if you speak to them, and you'll really want to have that in hand before you step out of the town boundaries. As soon as you do head out, you'll run into the next gameplay style: first-person exploration. Both the overworld and the dungeons use this viewpoint, and while it's not quite as smooth as it was in Phantasy Star, it's convincing enough. In this mode, the main viewing area only takes up a portion of the screen. The remaining parts of the screen are dedicated to status windows and a bird's-eye map of the area you're in. If you haven't gotten your hands on a map, you'll only be able to see the square your character is occupying. You can technically map this yourself on paper if you really want to, but the NPCs are pretty good about giving you what you need when you need it.

This isn't too strange so far, though. The first few games from Richard Garriot of Ultima fame basically used a similar combination of overhead and first-person exploration. Even SEGA had already done this, in the Master System classic Phantasy Star. You start heading towards the cave that holds the ring you're looking for and suddenly a slime appears in your view. Time to battle! And also time for our third gameplay style. Yes, the game switches to another screen where you have a sort of angled overhead view of your character and a number of enemies. You have to move your guy around and swing his tiny sword at the monsters to take them out. If they touch you or hit you with an attack, you take some damage. Should you run out of HP, you'll be kicked back to the last church you saved at with half your money gone. You'll often start fights in the middle of a crowd, and the enemies are surprisingly aggressive. Once you get the hang of things it's not so bad, though, and you can always beat a hasty retreat by walking off the edge of the screen.

It takes a little while before you'll encounter the fourth and final gameplay style. After recovering the ring from the cave, the townspeople will direct you to the next town and even give you a map. Upon arriving there, you'll enter into what turns out to be the pattern for the rest of the game. The townspeople have some kind of problem. Maybe it's a wicked king. Maybe they've been transformed by evil magic. Whatever the problem is, you'll be given a map to a nearby cave and directed to retrieve something from it. You'll probably have to spend some time grinding experience and money to power up your character first, and there are some chests scattered around the overworld that give you something to do for at least part of that work. Anyway, you'll go into the cave, do the thing you're supposed to do, and that usually leads to the final gameplay style: a boss battle against a huge creature of some kind.

For these battles, you're playing from a straight-on side view. You can duck, swing your sword, and move forwards and backwards. Carefully hack away at the giant monster in front of you and you'll soon emerge victorious. You'll get one of the rings, the townspeople will hand you another map, and you'll be directed to the next town where you'll repeat the process. Lather, rinse, and repeat for 14 towns and around 20 hours, and you're all done. The number of monsters is quite limited, the game makes heavy use of palette swaps to stretch them out, and just about every location looks the same as the last. There's very little strategy in either of the battle systems, making combat somewhat dull. You'll never have any reason or cause to go backwards, with the result being that this a very linear, repetitive marathon to the finish.  

Given when it was released, Sword of Vermilion looks the part of a next-generation RPG. Everything is quite detailed, and those side-view boss battles are pure spectacle. The music, composed by Yasuhiro "Yas" Takagi, is very good. Each town gets its own theme song, covering a wide range of moods. Yet beyond those surface elements, the game is decidedly 8-bit in its design. As an example, the simple act of emptying a chest sitting in front of you requires you to bring up the menu, choose 'open', read the text box telling you the contents, bring up the menu again, and choose 'take'. Dungeons are pitch-black unless you use a candle or a lantern, and candles only last for a short amount of time. Your inventory is limited to eight items, not including equipment, so you have to make very careful decisions about what healing and utility items you want to bring.

The maps for the dungeons are hidden in the dungeons themselves, so you might need to do some physical mapping until you come across them. You also need to check every direction of each square when you're exploring, as chests and other objects might show up when you face west but not when you face east, for example. You can only save at churches in towns, so if you're playing it as it was designed you need to make sure you have time to see your outings through before embarking. Oh, and don't expect to see the stats of gear found in shops or chests. You'll have to equip them to see their effect, and some of them are cursed. For a game from 1989, none of this is particularly shocking; few games of this era broke ranks when it came to interface decisions. But many soon would, and that made Vermilion feel like something from a by-gone era within a matter of a year or two.

The strange thing is, I kind of enjoy Sword of Vermilion. The game has a really nice rhythm to it, even if it is somewhat mindless. The initial parts of each dungeon where you're operating without a map are pretty fun, and I like the basic structure of having to solve a different problem in each town before moving on. I had fun exploring each of the maps to see if I could turn up any treasure chests or special encounters. The battle systems are easily the worst parts of the game, but they're not offensively bad. At the very least, the normal battle allow you to feel your character's growing strength. The boss battles are stupid but thankfully quite painless in most cases. I'll even give a tip of the hat to the localization. It's a bit clunky in places, but it's largely coherent and correct. That was a big ask in this period.

I've seen some positively savage reviews of this game, and I guess I can understand why a person wouldn't like Sword of Vermilion. It's repetitive, old-fashioned, clunky, and some of its bits really don't work well within the overall game. It also drags on a tad longer than it should. Even though I enjoy the game, I wouldn't have shed any tears if everything wrapped up five or so hours earlier than it did. At the same time, I've played far worse RPGs that weren't nearly as ambitious. Even among the Genesis's library, I don't think I'd put Sword of Vermilion on a top RPG list, but I'm not sure I'd discourage anyone from trying it, either. I will say that if you play through to the second town's boss and aren't really getting into it at all, you're safe to cut your losses and quit. It doesn't dramatically change from there.

Of course, the aftermath is quite clear by now. Vermilion is mostly forgotten, and the few who remember it don't usually speak well of it. Its creators only made one other RPG after it, and the studio that produced it would only dip their toes into the RPG waters (in a very tentative way) a couple more times in the future. Still, for early Genesis adopters who loved RPGs, Sword of Vermilion likely kept them busy between Phantasy Star installments. That's about the best someone could ask for at that time outside of Japan. I'm not sure this was the best choice for SEGA of America's big ad campaign, though.

If you want to try Sword of Vermilion yourself, it's currently available on Steam as part of the SEGA Mega Drive and Genesis Classics, on the Nintendo Wii Virtual Console, and on PSP and PlayStation Vita through the digital version of the SEGA Genesis Collection. You can also track down any of the physical versions; both the original Genesis cartridge and the PlayStation 2/PSP discs for the aforementioned Genesis Collection are relatively cheap even today.

Previous: Landstalker

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[xxlovesuicide61xx]

Absolute Agony- Ch. 4

Severus had been spending his time leisurely enjoying being close to Hermione and really getting to notice the details he was otherwise unable to see from his window. He could see the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks that were brought out from the sun. He could see how the sun reflected off of her, bringing out flecks of gold in her eyes and spots of copper in her hair. If he thought that she was gorgeous from his window, she was absolutely stunning from down here. And that was just from the neck up.

Severus was well into his third Rum Runner by the time things really got interesting. The young males, plus Sirius and Remus, started yelling and wildly gesticulating, splashing water everywhere. Apparently they were trying to decide on chicken teams. The youngest male Weasley had been called inside by his mother to clean his appalling bedroom floor and the teams were uneven. This is where Hermione came in. The boys were fighting over who she got to pair up with-- Hermione being the lightest person she was considered the best partner for the game. Being the mature adults the men were, it was decided that the only way to choose was to have a splash contest.

They all lined up at the diving board-- Harry, Sirius, Remus, and the twins-- before Hermione finally noticed what was going on. She had been reading on a lounge chair, soaking up some sun, and Severus had been appreciating the delicate way she handled turning each page. Assessing the situation, Hermione determined the issue and decided to lay back and enjoy the shows. There would be no stopping them at this point, anyway.

As Harry mounted the diving board, Hermione looked over at Severus. Catching his eye, she raised her eyebrow, glanced over at the manly display of masculinity that was being attempted, and looked back over at her professor, rolling her eyes and laughing.

Severus felt his heart start to beat irregularly, but managed to keep up with the conversation. He had to hold back a smile, understanding her unspoken conversation. He replied with an exasperated shake of his own head, knowing that she wasn't able to see his eyes. Did this count as speaking to her? He hoped it did. This was progress. She rarely sought him out on her own. This was good. Very good.

Harry took a flying leap, making it a third of the way across the pool, before landing with a flailing sploosh in the water. Overall not bad, but he didn't get points for distance. He swam to the side, clearing the way for Fred to go next.

Fred started far behind the board and took a long running start, nearly tripping when he jumped onto the board. He jumped, tucked into a ball, and did what would have been an impressive flip if he hadn't over rotated and landed face down, creating a relatively small splash.

George was next and thought he had learned from his brother's mistakes. He calmly walked to the end of the board, gave a firm salute to Hermione, spread his arms wide, and fell straight forward off of the board and into the water. True, he had covered the most surface area of the three so far, but his low speed led him to land with a hard smack to the front of his body and relatively no water disturbance.

Remus was next, looking a little unsure of himself. He stood around the halfway point of the board and took two huge strides, jumping up, landing on the spring part of the board, jumping back up with some impressive air, brought his legs up, and landed in an impressive cannon ball. A plume of water rose up, the most so far, but narrow nonetheless. He came up a moment later, having managed to reach the bottom of the pool, and swam over to join the others as judges on the side of the pool.

Sirius was last, and had a look of great concentration on his face. He stood at the far end of the board, took a running start, and put as much of his weight as possible into the jump on the spring. He launched into the air, pulled his knees up in a tuck at his waist and spread his arms wide, his elbows bent, his fists near his cheeks protecting his face. Twisting his lower body, he landed on an angle, his balled up legs landing first and his upper body landing with his arms making a smacking woosh. It was a bizarre amalgamation of a cannon ball and a belly flop, with his own unique ideas spreading in. Strange though it was, he clearly got the job done, the water from his splash reaching all the way to the shallow end of the pool. He was obviously the winner, much to the dismay of the other contestants.

Sirius emerged from the water, wallops of victory shouting from his mouth and a cocky smirk on his face. He was rather pleased with himself. Severus, however, was not. If looks could kill-- a skill which Severus was still trying to master-- Sirius Black would be face down floating in the pool. Severus didn't want him anywhere near Hermione, let alone in a game of chicken. The Potions Master looked over to the girl of his affections to gauge her reaction. She looked like she was trying to show that she wasn't displeased, but he could tell. She was about as unhappy with this arrangement as he was.

Hermione set her book aside, secluding it away under a towel to keep it safe from sun and water damage, something that Severus found rather endearing. She walked over to where the rest of the boys were, her swaying hips causing Severus to start drooling, and cleanly dove into the water, leaving not a drop out of place. The teams now decided, shoulders were mounted.

Harry managed to get on Fred's shoulders easily enough, but George had some trouble getting his lanky body around Remus's broader shoulders. Swimming over to Sirius, Hermione spun him around and shoved his head down, dunking him under the water. His head in both hands kept firmly in place, Hermione jumped and draped her legs over his shoulders, tucking her feet under his arms. His hands came up to her legs and he stood, needing air more than he was willing to admit. It was to be a three way game, and the teams were ready.

The group was confined in the middle of the pool, around the five foot mark. They were all easily able to stand there (excluding Hermione) and they would be safe when they fell off. This left both ends of the pool empty and relatively undisturbed. Severus polished off the rest of his drink and wondered if he would be able to actually join them in the pool. By himself of course, away from the action, but in the pool all the same. He found the thought of sharing the same water with Hermione to be rather intimate, and he couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine. The alcohol acting as some last minute courage, Severus got up and headed to the deep end of the pool, the others too engrossed in their game to notice him.

The thought of jumping in would've seemed appealing had he been alone, but given the company he settled for sitting on the edge and quietly sliding in. His was around eight feet deep, but he didn't mind treading water. Checking that he was still being unobserved, he stopped kicking his legs and dropped under, getting his hair wet and enjoying being cooled off by the soft water that surrounded him. He loved swimming.

Emerging, he slicked his hair back, and checked in on the game. George and Hermione had ganged up on Harry and were close to getting him thrown off of Fred's shoulders. Severus glanced to Sirius's hands and wasn't pleased with what he found. His hands were up much much higher than Severus would've liked, and he hoped that Hermione felt the same way. He would have to put an end to this. Now.

Tapping into his wandless magic, Severus caused a small torpedo of water to wrap around Sirius's legs, pulling his feet out from under him. Sirius dropped down onto his knees, dislodging his hands from Hermione and Hermione from his shoulders. She went tumbling off and into the water. Oops.

Black came up sputtering, complaining of an injured knee, the remaining gentlemen laughing their heads off. Hermione came out of the water, a strained look on her face. Severus could see blood starting to float upwards from her, looking like bright red smoke in the water. This wasn't supposed to happen. He couldn't help but curse quietly and swim over.

Hermione made her way to the edge of the pool and lifted herself out, shifting around to leave her legs dangling in the water. The was quite the abrasion on her right inner thigh, just near her bathing suit bottoms. Her hand was hovering near, trying to get a clean look at the skin around the blood.

Severus came to a stop a respectable distance away, but still near enough that he could help her. He had caused her to bleed; it seemed only proper that he be the one to fix it. She didn't startle at his nearness, instead relaxing her legs as he got nearer to her. He floated closer and stood next to her leg. He could feel the heat of her skin emanating from her into him through the cold water. It felt wonderful.

He looked down at her thigh, at the blood, at her pale skin that was now visible from a shifted bikini bottom. He was glad that he had taken that potion.

He wanted to undo the tie on the bottom of her suit with his teeth and find the rest of her pale skin with his tongue and taste her blood on his lips and Merlin when did he get so kinky??

Calm yourself, Severus. You need to calm the fuck down. Right now.

Focus.

He reached out a hand and let it hover just above her injury, sending his magic through his hand and into her leg, healing her and removing the blood.

She looked up, surprised. Their eyes met, hers saying 'thank you', his desperately trying to say anything but 'love me, damn it!'.

"Thank you." Her voice was quiet, but confident.

"Of course, Ms. Granger." He didn't know how he managed to breathe this close to her, let alone speak coherently.

By now Sirius had calmed down and the other males had seen what had happened.

"I'm sorry, Mione. I don't even know what happened." Black didn't even look put off, he simply glared at Severus.

"See that it doesn't happen again, Black." Severus's tone was biting. Anyone else would know not to mess with him. Sirius, on the other hand, wasn't exactly the brightest star in the sky.

"It's none of your business, Snape, so I suggest you stay out of it." Severus only glared. Sirius continued. "It's not like anyone got seriously injured."

Severus wished that someone had been seriously injured. Just not Hermione. He felt terrible that he had caused her pain, let alone caused her to bleed.

With a final glare at the males in the pool, unable to meet Hermione's eyes, Severus turned and swam away, getting out of the pool and conjuring a black towel. He could feel eyes burning into his exposed body, but he didn't look back. It hadn't gone nearly as well as he had hoped.

If he had decided to turn and look back, he would've noticed the one pair of eyes that wasn't looking at him. Rather, Hermione was staring down at her leg, her hand hovering over where his had been, a blush on her cheeks and her insides tingling.

[coimeadaisiochana]

When it comes to a straight fight, Lilian is probably the most capable of the 8 OCs I have slated for this blog. While one of the unfinished ones is more capable with magic and subterfuge, and Ari-El is pretty all-around, in a direct confrontation, Lilian is definitely the most dangerous, as her abilities and biology make her difficult to take down unless someone just straight-up overpowers her or overwhelms her with sheer numbers, while being just as capable of incredible damage.

In terms of strength and speed, Lilian is definitely superhuman. She can lift about 200 tons over her head without any real struggle, while 300 seems to be her upper limit. She can shatter a brick wall with a punch or a kick, and her grip strength is strong enough to crush a human skull. She’s also fully capable of exceeding Mach 1 (~767 mph/~1235 kph) on foot, moving faster than the eye can see, though this level of speed limits her to moving in almost completely-straight lines - she has trouble turning corners at this level of speed, and usually just uses it to clear distances in as short a time as possible. In terms of land speed that she can move effectively at, around 500 mph/805 kph is where she starts having trouble rounding corners or otherwise changing trajectory/stopping.This also means she has the reflexes to anticipate objects, creatures, and people moving at similar speeds.

When it comes to durability, she’s notably less superhuman, but can still take more punishment than any normal human. Her skin is thicker than a normal person’s, so cuts and stabs without enough force will simply glance off or leave small scratches that won’t even draw blood. Enough force will break her skin, though, and it provides pretty much zero difference to a normal person against even small-caliber firearms. Meanwhile, her bones are firm, but capable of surprising give and flexibility, not only allowing her to absorb impacts that would shatter a normal person’s bones, but also allowing her a greater degree of flexibility.

Lilian is also resistant to nearly all types of elemental damage; she’s outright immune to mundane and magical fire and heat, and can tolerate very low temperatures and continued exposure to ice and the cold for up to about three hours without feeling cold. Most forms of acid are simply normal liquid to her, and even the most acidic substances require lengthy exposure of at least half an hour to cause notable damage. She is also capable of absorbing and nullifying moderately-powerful electric currents and can even take a bolt of lightning with only minor burns.

Even if she’s damaged, however, Lilian recovers from injury at an accelerated rate, possessing powerful regeneration. Shallow cuts and small stab wounds heal within seconds, larger open wounds, mangled limbs, or small to moderate burns or frostbite can take anywhere from one to a few minutes, and she’ll even regrow lost limbs or organs within a few days. The window for taking advantage of her in an injured state is very small, unless one uses blessed magic or weapons (see weaknesses, below). This powerful regenerative ability also renders her immune to poisons and difficult to make ill with disease.

Speaking of her blood, I’ve already written up a post about its dangers and benefits here, but for more detail, it’s not just black, but also thick and tar-like. Injuries that draw blood won’t cause it to splatter or spray, but rather to ooze out, as if you slashed open a bottle of glue. This makes it a poor defensive measure against anyone trying to attack her, especially against weapons or from a distance, so she often instead opts to cover her hands and/or claws (depending on form) in it once she starts bleeding and use it as a weapon. In addition, the amount and time needed for its more lethal and dangerous effects is more than a few droplets; it takes about four ounces of the blood (not just a few droplets or a small smear) to do more than cause intense pain, and it has to linger for at least a few minutes to damage the skin and flesh - it takes hours for it the corruption to spread and begin damaging other areas of the body.

For other aspects of her biology, Lilian has three sets of natural weapons that she tends to utilize when fighting in her devil form: her teeth, her claws, and her tail. In devil form, all of her teeth become sharp canines and actually bend inwards to make them harder to remove once they’ve sunk into something, and attempting to pull her off will only tear into it more. Her claws are her most common weapon, meanwhile, and can slice through concrete with enough force (which she is easily capable of exerting, see her strength, above). She can also use her magic to enlarge her hands making each one about as large as a typical human torso, and turning each claw to a deadly foot-long sickle. In addition, her tail has been conditioned to be just as powerful as her other limbs and can be a dangerous surprise to anyone not expecting that sort of power from a secondary appendage. She frequently uses it to support herself when she cannot use her legs or otherwise loses/sacrifices her balance, such as leaning back to dodge an attack.

Lilian’s black blood also affords her some magical abilities, as mentioned above. In addition to being able to perform minor shapeshifting, much of Lilian’s magic revolves around blood or curses. She can cause someone’s minor cuts and wounds to open and potentially become worse by injuring herself and enduring a similar open wound, or turn spilled blood into hazards such as caltrops or barbs on a surface. She can also ingest someone’s blood and use that to know their exact location for one week - a fact that someone becomes immediately aware of as soon as Lilian places the curse on them, potentially sowing paranoia and fear in the target.

Of course, for all of these strengths, Lilian has her fair share of weaknesses, as well, though not all of them are immediately apparent.

One of Lilian’s main weaknesses, and probably the easiest to exploit, is her relative lack of stamina compared to all of her other superhuman abilities. She possesses no more stamina than a typical human of her fitness level, and when forced into an extended fight, especially against something with far more stamina than her, it can turn into a battle against time for her, endeavoring to finish the opponent before she exhausts herself. This is especially notable, considering her magic also drains her of her stamina, and her black blood is directly to blame for this; a half-devil would normally have more stamina, but due to the thickness and consistency of her blood, oxygen is slower to reach parts of her body, making it harder for her to keep going… and even harder for her stamina to recover than a normal person.

In addition, despite her own magical abilities, Lilian is just as equally vulnerable to magic in return. Most forms of magic that do more than evoke elemental effects affect her just as equally as they would anyone else, though she’s particularly vulnerable to a few specific types. First is holy magic, used by angels, angelkin (such as aasimars or half-angels), and blessed spellcasters, and weapons or people blessed by holy magic will outright burn her on contact and suppress her enhanced regenerative abilities. Second is blood magic, which preys on the particularly magical nature of Lilian’s black blood, amplifying the effects of any sort of blood magic used on her, beneficial or not. These types of magic will outright bypass most forms of magical warding used on her and if used to create elemental effects, they will affect her despite her usual resistances to them. Third, and perhaps the most difficult of the three to exploit given its nature, is antimagic. Due to deriving most of her powers from her blood, antimagic is capable of suppressing nearly every aspect of Lilian’s strength, from her superhuman powers and magic to her regenerative abilities and elemental resistances. The only things it doesn’t remove or suppress are her durability and her natural weapons, as they’re a normal part of her biology, not fueled by her black blood.

In a similar vein, Lilian is vulnerable to just about anything that affects devils, and even just the presence of anything blessed by the divine nearby can instill a sense of dread and a desire to flee in her, though she is capable of standing her ground; however, she will be caught in a demoralized state so long as the object or person remains present. She also finds it difficult to come into contact with such objects willingly, as holy objects will burn her on contact, as mentioned above; in fact, such blessed items or people are more resilient to her attacks to the point of near-invulnerability, and are nearly impossible for her to affect with her magic. Often times, her best option when confronted with those so blessed is to indulge her fear and run.

Finally, her hardest weakness to exploit is her connection to her father, Haziel. Only the pit fiend himself can reliably exploit this weakness for his own gain, as he can command her as though she were simply another extension of his body, or even use her as a scapegoat when he would otherwise come under magical compulsion - such as in the case of being bound to a mage, like her current situation. However, as he is only vaguely aware of her existence (as he has multiple Blackblood children he uses for such ends), she is luckily spared from him regularly exploiting this connection. For now.