#then. we will unleash our Full Power (do fun stuff together like normal people)

[pory-z]

crying pissing throwing up spaghetti spilling out my pockets because my besties can't come to powerwolf concert with me next week and i have to resell the tickets

can't fault them of course but we were looking forward to it for a whole year now and it was the beacon of light after the shitstorm of these past months

i barely talk to anyone anymore because of Overwhelmed but these two are part of the handful of people i so see on a weekly basis i was so hyped to do a concert with friends. i guess we have different ways of getting overwhelmed. i can see how hours of train plus worrying about finding a place to sleep plus huge crowds of people plus the noise plus parisians isn't very attractive when you also have shit going on. for some people at least. i'm just built different concerts are my natural habitat.

[shirtlesssammy]

15x19: Inherit the Earth

We’re down to the end, and guys, I’m not ready. :(

Then:

THEY’RE IN LOVE

Now:

The world is empty.

Sam and Jack wander the empty streets. Dean pulls up in the Impala (still wearing his jacket with Cas’s bloody handprint. BRB CRYING.) Everyone’s gone. Dean tells the others that it’s Chuck that did this. Jack asks the IMPORTANT question: “Where’s Cas?” Dean looks down and hesitates, but eventually says, “He saved me.” He tells them the cliff’s notes version of what happened while shoving down A MILLION feelings of regret and loss and I want to hug him. “Cas is gone,” he finishes, and hahahahahahahahah NOPE. Sam, in disbelief, calls his side-ship Jody. No answer. 

They head to an empty sports bar (AND WHAT I WOULD DO TO GO TO A BAR WITH FRIES AND TVs AND BEER RIGHT NOW). Jack stays outside and prays to Cas. He gets nothing and starts walking. All the flowers start to wilt as he passes them. WHAT IS HAPPENING? 

Sam blames himself and is done. They decide to meet with Chuck.

They tell him that they’ll play his little game. They’ll kill each other. Dean demands that they put everything back to normal first, though. “The people, the birds, Cas.” All of it. (WEEPING.)

Dean, DEAN, Cas doesn’t want to be in a world where you don’t exist. 

Yeah, Chuck doesn’t care. He’s really into the brothers' suffering alone story. “That’s deep, that’s sophisticated, that’s a page turner.” Oh, Chuck, you dumb bastard. 

Cut to the bunker where they’re all suffering on their own. Jack wallows in his room. Sam wanders the halls, and Dean lays passed out on a bottle of liquor in the library. Sam finds Dean in the library, and Jack soon joins them to tell them that he’s sensing another presence in the world. 

They head to a gas station. Dean heads for the bathroom, and hears a whimpering. IT’S A DOG. And Dean’s so happy to have found him. He names the dog Miracle. 

Dean brings the dog out to show Sam. He tells him that Miracle is coming home with them. I AM DYING. Sam is shocked. Dean tells him not to worry because he’ll only let him ride shotgun if Sam is cool with it. Lol. 

Of course, all good things must end. And Miracle dusts like everything else in existence. Dean looks around and sees Chuck giving him a smarmy salute. F U C K  O F F,  C H U C K. Dean doesn’t even like dogs, so there. (The patented Robert Singer ZOOM tells me that Dean does indeed care about dogs.) 

(Sidenote: The dog is Cas, right? Dean’s beyond happy to see it. And is ready to let it sit shotgun, but only if Sam’s okay with it. And he’s REALLY upset that they can’t “save a dog”. Just thinking thoughts.) 

They head to a church. 

Once they’re in the church of very dangerously burning candles, they’re greeted by Michael. 

Michael tells them that he’s been chilling here to avoid Chuck’s notice. Adam is gone. (RIP Winchester brother that never got a chance.) Michael monologs a bit about humans and stuff. Dean recognizes a little soldier when he sees one. Michael wants to help though. 

Back at the bunker, Sam shows him Death’s book on God. Michael tries opening the book with no luck. (Sidenote: The DRAMA of the lights being lower is killing me.) 

*Dean is In Love Alert*

The brothers take a moment alone in the dark kitchen. 

Dean gets a call. 

Dean takes the call and because he’s a precious bean that actually believes what he’s hearing. Cas is at the bunker. He’s outside. He’s hurt. 

Dean takes off like a rocket AND I’M DYING. BBY BOY. NO. 

It’s not Cas. It’s Lucifer. 

UGH. 

(DOUBLE UGH.)

(INFINITY UGH.)

Yeah, Lucifer totally sees what’s between Dean and Cas and gains access to the bunker because of that. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool. 

He tells the brothers that the Empty kicked him out to finish Chuck. He brought a reaper to prove to the brothers that he’s good people (NOT.) 

Betty is bound and gagged. (Because WHY NOT DO THAT TO A WOMAN, Buckleming.) Lucifer then kills her. (Because WHY NOT DO THAT TO A WOMAN, Buckleming.) 

Betty is the new Death! 

(Sorrynotsorry for the lack of pictures. I think we all know why.) 

She asks for the book. If they give it to her, she can read it. 

They set her up in the dungeon reading room, and she doesn’t need helpers. 

Meanwhile, Lucifer is playing cards and there’s ZERO interaction with Jack and him. AND I AM LIVING. Like, it’s 100% clear that Jack isn’t his son and he does not see him as a father. Jack’s father is dead. AND I AM LIVING. (But also sad because Cas is dead.) 

Lucifer does interact with Michael though. Michael does not trust his brother.

Betty pops up with the book and the end of God. Lucifer ashes her with a snap of his fingers. 

(HOW?!>!>?)

Wherps, he grabs the book from her and reveals his hand. He’s working with Chuck.   

Lucifer and MIchael battle it out. Jack watches. Lucifer tries to convince Jack to join the losing team.

Michael stabs Lucifer with an archangel blade. Mercifully, there are no haughty speeches or further peacocking between these two. Lucifer sparks out, gone at last. GOOD RIDDANCE.

Later, Dean has a heart to heart with Michael in the kitchen. Michael’s reeling that Chuck brought Lucifer back from the dead instead of seeking him out. But he’s definitely NOT BITTER, NOPE. 

Dean reveals that Chuck’s book is open and full of mysterious Enochian symbols. Sam’s going to translate those, and figure out how Chuck dies, so they can start knocking down some dominoes!

In the library later, Sam reveals that he’s uncovered a spell to stop Chuck. (Jack was researching nephilim on the computer! Jack bby) When complete, the spell will unleash an “unstoppable force” against Chuck. They head out to a special location, light the spell, and it sends three bright beams of power into the sky.

But the spell explodes. They look up to find Chuck standing there. Chuck...chucks the Winchesters and Jack away. He thanks Michael for tipping him off. “It’s always been my destiny to serve you,” Michael tells him. But that’s not enough for Chuck to forgive him for siding with the Winchesters even once. Chuck fractures Michael into light. The last archangel bites the dust.

He turns his attention to the Winchesters. It’s time to finish them. He’s canceling the show. At the last minute, he decides it’ll be more fun to beat them to death instead of snapping them out of existence. It’s……..YIKES PRETTY BRUTAL TO WATCH. “Just stay down,” he counsels them - practically begs them. But they won’t stop. Broken and bleeding, they hold each other up against him.

Sam laughs at Chuck’s confusion. “You lose,” he tells him. Behind Chuck, the camera pans to Jack. 

Chuck tries to snap Jack dead but his snapper isn’t working.

Jack lays his hands on Chuck and golden power streams from Chuck into Jack. Jack snaps his fingers once, and the Winchesters are healed. As they say in the industry...suck it, Chuck. 

Sam drops Death’s book in front of Chuck, but the pages are blank. Only Death can even SEE anything in the book (making the whole “can’t open book covers” thing into nothing but a drama llama move). The Winchesters came up with a plan B and spout this in a quick exposition dump.

Michael was jealous of Lucifer being “chosen” by Chuck

They made up the story of a spell, so Michael would tell Chuck

Jack’s “bomb” quest turned him into a power vacuum - thus the dying plants

When Michael and Lucifer fought in the bunker, the power exchange charged Jack back to full nephilim strength

Chuck killing Michael and beating on the Winchesters allowed Jack to absorb god-power

“This is why you’re my favorites,” Chuck gasps. He doesn’t know what happens next, but he’s ready to die “at the hands of Sam Winchester. Of Dean Winchester, the ultimate killer.”

And. Babies. Sweeties. I know that there are lots of people who have problems with this episode but THIS! THIS. This next line makes it all worth it. Because Dean tells him, “See, that’s not who I am. That’s not who we are.” He took how Castiel sees him and he planted that damn seed in his own heart and watered it even in the depths of despair and now it’s so mighty a force that he just walks away from their lifelong tormentor. GUYS. I LOVE IT. I’m so emotional right now.

Jack confirms that Chuck won’t get his powers back. “It’s not his power anymore.” And AGAIN I am emotional thinking about fanfiction and fanart and giving this show to us when it’s all done. Ahem. Anyway. Chuck’s gonna grow old and die and be forgotten like every single human. (Ooookay that got a little dark, but I’ll allow it. This is a “to the pain” speech, after all.)

Chuck begs for them not to leave him, reduced to sniveling panic in the Impala’s dust cloud.

The Winchesters head back to a small, empty town. Jack closes his eyes in the sunshine as “Get Together” by the Youngbloods croons across the scenes. People return to the world and it’s gentle and beautiful - everyone returning to their day-to-day. “Come on people now, smile on your brother!” the song implores. 

Love is but a song to sing Fear's the way we die You can make the mountains ring Or make the angels cry Though the bird is on the wing And you may not know why

Come on people now Smile on your brother Everybody get together Try to love one another Right now

And look. I know this is just a song, and this is just a show. But this is my hope for this show and these characters - steeped in darkness for so long. And this is my hope for our actual real world too. It’s hard for me to separate the two so YES I’M CRYING AS I TYPE THIS. May this song lead us into the next episode and destroy me in a fountain of hopeful light.

Erm. anyway. Miracle the dog runs into the scene! It IS a damn miracle! Dean and Sam are so proud of Jack! Jack confirms that Amara is with him and they’re in harmony. I’m so happy that Amara got a happy peaceful forever after with her nougat nephilim grand-nephew. Dean assumes that Jack’s coming back to the bunker with them. He’s top dog, “he can do whatever he wants now.” (And readers, I like that Dean says whatever “he wants” and not whatever the Winchesters want. I think it shows personal growth!)

Jack declines. He’s already home - he’s everywhere and everything. “I’ll be in every drop of falling rain. In every speck of dust that the wind blows. And in the sand, the rocks, and the sea.” Jack doesn’t want to lead people, or be prayed or sacrificed to. He wants to let them discover the truth in their own hearts, in their own time. “Chuck put himself in the story. That was his mistake. But I learned from you and my mother and Castiel that when people have to be their best - they can be. And that’s what to believe in.” I have to say, I was fervently against Jack-as-God until it happened. But just like everything to do with Jack, once it happens I just go...okay, cool. I’m on board!

In the bunker, Dean and Sam drink beer and comment on the quiet. “To everyone that we lost along the way,” Dean toasts. Sam realizes that they can write their own story now. “Just us,” he says (and it sounds like a bleak echo in the empty bunker). Behind them, the table has SW, DW, MW, Jack, and Castiel engraved and...MY HEART.

The Winchesters leave to go find out what freedom feels like and we get a montage of past scenes from the show, and characters we loved or loved to hate. Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty” plays us off in sweet, mournful nostalgia.

The Winchesters drive into a sepia-tinged world. This episode is like my Thanksgiving plate mid-meal - all mashed together for faster plot consumption. But on a rewatch, there’s a lot to like too! It’s a goodbye to one story...

And we leave nostalgia behind. It’s time for them to figure out their own story and I AM SO EXCITED to see what happens next! (Lays some nougat candy bars on my altar for Andrew Dabb for one last vigil.)

WHERE’S THE QUOTES?

Where’s Cas?

Who’ve thought finding a dog would feel like a miracle? C’mon, Miracle!

What’s an ending?

Eternal suffering sounds good on paper, but as a viewing experience it’s just kinda...meh

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Kiwi 10

previously on Kiwi

As grueling of a schedule as it was, there was a bit of normalcy to the routine of it all that was an almost welcomed addition to her life. Each day had an itinerary, had a designated time for everything, nearly down to bathroom breaks and time to think. The entire operation was efficient and orchestrated a year in advance. At a very very recent point in her life, Lexa didn’t like the sanctity of the routine and often balked under the weight of it, rejecting regularity for sleepless nights and people who broke her, and for too much manufactured joy that came at the end of a straw or bottom of a glass. Strung out and hung over, she performed without remember, and found herself missing the joy of it all, digging a deeper pit into her own body and soul that she could ever fill up. 

But she was finding a way to make up for it. 

It started with her sister, as most things seemed to always. It started with apologizing and promising and fixing a lot of things she once thought to be irreparable. And once that was mended and blossoming, Lexa watered different parts of herself, allowing a small bit of her own forgiveness and honesty to shine through. 

There was rehab and therapy, of course. And more apologizing and promising and setting realistic goals and avoiding stressors and things that would make her weak. But from that was a kind of strength, and people saw it, the improvement, the urge and need to be good, to be an artist. That was what saved Lexa’s life, at the end of the day, her overwhelming urge to create and interpret and give back something to the world. 

Tour was debated hotly for an entire month before it could be completely agreed upon between the bandmates, but in the end, it was the absolutely gruelling schedule that Anya decided truly was the best way for her to keep an eye on her sister. She couldn’t do drugs if she didn’t have time. 

And even though Lexa found herself missing someone, something she hadn’t originally planned on experiencing, she welcomed the road life with open arms, hitting meetings in every town almost, and talking to a girl on the other side of the country almost non-stop. When she wasn’t bugging Clarke, she was writing, practicing, working out, or performing, and in the end, those were almost the only things that truly mattered. 

Deftly, Lexa’s fingers moved along the frets of her favorite guitar as she lounged on the couch in her suite. She knew she was in Texas, but not entirely sure which city, and she didn’t mind. She had the sunset and she had a great view. In a month she’d be in Europe before festival rounds, and then back on the second half of her tour until the fall. There was a schedule. 

Without noticing her sister approaching, she hummed along to a melody she’d been stuck thinking about but not sure what to do with entirely. The album they were touring on was heartbreak and pain and partying. It was some of her favorite things because she loved seeing those who understood her and the words. But it scared her to write something different and new. And as many times as she promised an ode to Clarke’s ass, she was afraid to write something so loving. So she strummed along and already felt a different kind of grit sneak into her words. She sang a few lines and wrote in her notebook, pausing and reworking and thinking out loud. She recorded a few bars on her phone before putting it together somewhat. 

No one would say she was unprofessional when it came to her work. It was important that she got things out, and she came with a full idea, formed and ready to be put together, a concrete idea that she was always eager to capture. Her words got a little better and the process got a little easier when she was sober, something she feared at first, if she was being honest. She didn’t need the crutch. Her entire last album was a way to heal. 

“Sounds good,” Anya finally offered, pushing herself from the wall where she leaned. “Different,b ut good.” 

“I thought we discussed your lurking.” 

“I lurk out of love.” 

“Hm,” Lexa grunted, tossing her pencil down on the notebook. She kept working on the guitar though, trying to get it right. 

Anya took a seat on the coffee table her sister’s feet were propped up on, and she grabbed the notebook, carefully skimming through the words jotted there in a deceptively neat hand despite how quickly they were laid upon the page. 

“I like this a lot, actually. Powerful.” 

“I don’t want to wri--”

“I know, I know. The basics. Universal human emotion with killer guitar. Nothing personal, blah blah,” the drummer muttered, hunching over as she flipped a page and looked at another idea, waving away the inevitable diatribe she’d already heard. 

“I don’t want to write sad songs anymore,” Lexa shrugged. “At least… I don’t know. I can’t say never. I just-- singing these songs, it’s been heavy. I kind of want to bring back some fun. Remember our EP?” 

“A lifetime ago.” 

“Yeah, but like pure rock’n’roll right? Like gritty guitar, quick fucks, bad drinks, having fun. Dirty but something to sing along to.”

“Except you don’t do any of that.” 

“No, but I miss… Do you miss having fun up there?” 

“I always have fun,” Anya shook her head, pushing aside her mane of hair as it fell in her face. “I have fun playing with you.” 

“I do too, I just… Clarke said something-- before you complain,” she interjected as Anya began to roll her eyes, “She said that she could see me enjoy certain songs more, and a lot has to do with who they were about.” 

“You’re afraid to write about Clarke.” 

“No… yeah, I mean. No one tells you that when you write about people, you’re stuck with the song, even when they’re not around.” 

Lexa sulked slightly as she fiddled with her strings and looked away from her sister with the confession. 

“You like her a lot,” Anya observed after a few moments of quiet and flipping through the pages until she caught something she liked. 

“Yeah, obviously.” 

“Good. I like her too.” 

“I think I might invite her out again before we head to Europe.” 

“You should.” 

“Is this…” Lexa took a deep breath and stilled her movements, almost a complete statue as she tried to formulate the proper words. “Is this what it feels like to exist, like normal?” 

“Relatively, yeah, probably,” her sister snorted a laugh and smiled as Lexa’s face twisted slightly. “You’re so used to living at extremes, but what you don’t realize is that life is exceptionally average most of the time, and my favorite things are moments of beauty in the most mundane spaces. Aiden smiling at me when he pulls my hair and bites my chin because that’s how he kisses. You, holding him. You and me on stage when we are perfectly in sync and the world is right. The best bite of a piece of pizza. Watching you the past few months, come alive. Fighting with Luke about not having enough wipes in the diaper bag. There is nothing wrong with feeling those moments and realizing they’re enough.” 

Lexa grit her jaw and nodded, still unflinching and unwavering, afraid to move an inch because she was certain the dream would end, and perhaps this was one of those moments, because the sun was setting, and her sister looked beautiful and alive and not like she was ready to commit her, but like she actually enjoyed being her sister again. 

Anya didn’t mean to say as much, but she closed her mouth and looked down at Lexa’s notebook again. 

“Invite Clarke for a few days. Let her get a feel of your life here. She won’t break your heart.” 

“You’re psychic now?” 

“No, but I think she couldn’t hurt to offer you a muse, even if you don’t want that.” 

“I can’t write about her.” 

“I think you already are.” 

“Nah,” Lexa disagreed, back to plucking the strings haphazardly. 

With a victorious smile, Anya picked one she liked the most and read it a few more times, attempting to hear what her sister had beneath it all. 

“I like this one,” she finally offered, handing over the page, bookmarked and dogeared in a way she knew would piss of her sister. “Tell me how to hear it.” 

Lexa took her time, looking at the page and debating as her sister looked on expectantly. This would be the moment, she was certain, that they began the next album in earnest. That alone was a journey that made her wary, which was why she hadn’t approached her sister with anything finished yet. 

“Low and singular at first, up to the first bridge and then BAM you come in, hard and heavy, just a beat, a heartbeat. I want it to be a blast, a catharsis, an unleashing.” 

“Fitting,” Anya agreed and nodded as she read, dashing a note here and there, drawing lines to indicate the swelling. 

“See, I can write songs not about girls.” 

“You can, I just think you want to write about a girl. So just let yourself.”

“It’s hard, being away and stuff. Kind of a weird time to start a relationship.” 

“When have you ever done anything the easy way?” 

As much as she wanted to argue, Lexa stopped herself and agreed. It didn’t matter. She knew her sister was right, and maybe that was okay this time. 

XXXXXXXXXX

Even though it was nearing the end of her shift, the bar still felt full of people in a way that weighed on her. She was hoping to leave at a mildly reasonable hour to crawl into bed and get a reasonable amount of sleep for the first time in a long time. The universe didn’t seem aware of that plan as she tried to re-read the letter left in her letterbox the day before. 

“You going to grab that order at the end?” Raven interrupted her thoughts. 

“Why fucking not.”

Struck by her sour demeanor the entire night, Raven debated how to handle Clarke. There were different moods for her that required different responses. She wasn’t quite sure which kind of friend she had to be for the evening. 

Even though she couldn’t admit it yet, Raven saw that Clarke seemed oddly different after meeting Lexa Woods. She was driven and happy and doing more. She was content and afraid of the future, but for different reasons. 

“Are you being a little crabby because you miss your girlfriend?” Raven sang, clearly aware that she was annoying her friend. 

“She’s not my… well maybe-- no wait. That’s not why I’m-- And I’m not crabby,” a flustered bar tender shook her head, processing all of the words and how wrong they all were. 

“You miss her.” 

“How can I miss someone I never had?” 

“Oh, you have her,” Raven rolled her eyes and crossed her arms as she watched her friend huff and be annoyed at the common knowledge. “She’s flying you out again to see her, for a few days and two different cities of tour dates. You’re dating Lexa Woods.” 

“I think I would know if I was.” 

“I’m honestly not sure you’d know.” 

For the rest of the evening, they worked and waited until the bar cleared out and they could wrap up the hard part. Raven poured them both a drink when the door was finally locked and sat down across from her friend, unperturbed by the sticky bartop or the cleaning they were about to do. 

With a flick of her head, Clarke took the shot and hissed against the feeling of the painful liquid on her throat. 

“They’re tearing down my building,” Clarke sighed. “I’ve got a month.” 

“No wonder you’re in a snit,” Raven nodded. 

“And I haven’t gotten laid in a few weeks.” 

“Yeah, I can tell.” 

“It’s just… It’s just… It’s just... “ she sighed and shook her head before pausing to pour herself another drink and taking it back. “I think I’m getting ahead, right? Like if life is broke up into categories, love, money, job, happiness-- and I can’t get all of them to be okay at the same time. It’s exhausting.” 

As she spoke, Raven finished counting the cash and carefully handed over the split from the tips, handing a pile over to the barback that wiped down the tables while they stood there, veterans and exhausted by the night, no longer excited to keep drinking and stay up until about four. Clarke braced herself on the counter and stared at the empty shot glass, watching a droplet drip down the side slowly then all at once. 

“So what do you have together now?” 

“Hm?” 

“Out of those things, what is working for you now?” Raven asked. “I mean. You’re dating a rock star. You have a great internship and you are somewhat decent at it. You have to move and that’s it.” 

“It’s a pretty shitty thing. I can barely afford the shitbox I live in now, let alone another place.” 

“Come live with me.” 

“In your studio? No thanks. We’re close, but I don’t think we can be that close without killing each other.”

“Why don’t--”

“I’ll figure it out,” Clarke sighed. “I can’t think of solutions tonight.” 

“We can drink, if you want.” 

“Yes please.” 

“And,” her friend grinned, complete and utter mischief and nothing good at all as she dug behind the counter and pulled out a magazine. “We can read all about a sexy singer and a mysterious blonde she’s been seen with.” 

“Are you kidding me? Where did you get that!” 

Even though she moved as quickly as possible, Raven dodged Clarke’s advance, wiggling her eyebrows as she surveyed the pictures and laughed, enjoying her friend’s discomfort. Stretch as she might, Clarke couldn’t grab the offending image and she groaned, growing agitated in a way that her friend enjoyed. 

“I’ve just been saving this to enjoy when I had a free moment. Thinking about how much I could make by telling them who the cute blonde sucking on Lexa’s Woods’ neck is.” 

“I wasn’t-- They didn’t-- We weren’t--”

“Hmmm interesting,” Raven mused as she opened the magazine and Clarke got a glimpse of the front cover for the first time. 

Completely mortified, she blanched, the blood disappearing from her ears and face as she saw a grainy image of the two of them out to a lovely late dinner post-concert last time she visited. It was a good night and she thought they were alone. She also just really liked to kiss Lexa and she didn’t want to wait. 

“When aked about the new friend, the singer simply smiled coyly and said she was very happy,” the bartender read before flipping another page. “And my horoscope is trash.” 

“Give me that,” Clarke finally snatched the paper, flipping through the rag before coming face to face with herself. 

There was no way for anyone else to know it was her, at least not really, but Raven knew as she slipped her beer and started sorting the receipts. She knew and she knew the right thing to say most of the time, too. It only took a few moments of flipping for Clarke to toss the magazine back ont eh counter and shake her head before pouring another shot. 

“You’re going to be fine, Griffin,” Raven promised. “You’re ready to be happy.” 

“I don’t know how to be happy.” 

It wasn’t quiet in volume, but it was hones and quiet in its purpose. Clarke took the shot and slumped slightly under the weight of the honest and the feeling of maybe trying to believe how her friend’s suggestion could be real. 

“You do.” 

XXXXXXXXXX

Defeated by the rain and the past week, Clarke adjusted the bag that hung on her shoulder and leaned slightly against her large suitcase in the lobby the chic high rise. No one else was around save for the attendant at the desk who casually watched her without actually looking, keeping an eye on the happenings for very important people lived in his building, and he took his job very seriously. 

It was an act of utter failure and somewhat dependence that Clarke despised above all else. She never wanted to need anyone, and she never wanted to be a burden. When it came down to the fact that she needed help, she recognized a kind of guilt and shame that made her rile against herself, as if her own bones were bending and getting smaller. 

With an uncoordinated effort, she made her way to the elevator when it arrived in the lobby, and she tried not to think too much, instead looking forward to a good bath and a good sleep to get her head back on straight. 

She was going to make short business of needing someone’s help. She wasn’t keen on being given charity, and she certainly wasn’t ready to make Lexa feel like she was being used. That scared Clarke more than anything. 

As soon as Clarke stepped into Lexa’s empty place, she was afraid she’d gone into the wrong place because it was not actually empty, but rather warm and alive. The warm lights and candles glowed against the dark of the windows, while a sound of sizzling and the smell of garlic came from the kitchen. A record scratched in the corner. 

“Hey, I was wondering when you’d get in,” Lexa smiled and reached to grab the bottle of wine. “I was afraid you’d be later and it’d get cold.” 

The bags dropped. 

“What are you-- Wh-- How?” Clarke furrowed and shook her head. “You’re supposed to be in Philadelphia.” 

“I play there tomorrow. I thought you were a real fan.” 

She was putting the finishing touches on the small dinner prepared and plated on the dinging room table, but Lexa was every bit comfortable, as if she hadn’t been on tour for the past three months and not anywhere close to New York. 

“But what are you doing here, now?” 

“Came to welcome you to my place, well, your place, our place? No, your place.”

“It’s your place, Lex.” 

“Yeah, but it’s yours when I’m not here, so tonight it’s ours, I guess.” 

Happy and cozy, bare feet moving around and finally standing in front of her girlfriend, Lexa smiled and towered there in Clarke’s confusion. 

“Did you miss me?” Lexa grinned, and despite all of the feelings and the anger and the self-hatred, Clarke melted at it. 

“Why are you here?” Clarke shook her head, feeling bad still. “I didn’t--”

“I wanted to make you feel welcome. Nothing less welcome than a dark place, with no food. I wasn’t even sure I’d left the heat on to be honest, and it’s been cold the pas--”

Without meaning to do it, Clarke lurched forward and hugged her girlfriend tightly. She buried her face in her neck, making them both wobble slightly but leaving her undeterred. 

“I got you a key made,” Lexa whispered, surprised by the outburst. “I want you to be comfortable here. I like… I like the idea of you being in my bed.” 

“Even if you’re not here.” 

“I’ve never had someone to come home to.”

It was quiet and honest and even though dinner was on the table, and even though the record was done on its side and it stopped, creating a silence that prevailed the many tired thoughts that possessed both, they stood there. 

“You’ve been having a rough time. I know I can’t be physically here that much, I want to be around for you,” Lexa whispered. “I made you room in the closet.” 

“I won’t be here long.” 

“You can stay as long as you want. I mean it.” 

“It’s been a real shit month.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“Aren’t you tired? Weren’t you in DC last night?” 

“So you are a real fan.” 

Clarke laughed even though she didn’t want to. Lexa’s arms stayed around her as she pulled away and she sighed because she had no other alternative-- there were too many feelings and thoughts that left her frazzled and she needed to hide all of that to savor this moment, regardless of the fact that she’d lost her home and was desperately missing the girl that cooked for her. 

“Want to come to my show tomorrow?” Lexa asked. “You can come up with me for the night and we could have two consecutive days together.” 

“Two? Wow, you must like me.” 

“I don’t just let every Tinder hook up house sit for me.”

NEXT

[nintendotreehouse]

Like a finely layered onion…or is it onions?

Hello!

Demetrius from the Treehouse here, and I would like to take some time to talk about the Xenoblade Chronicles 2 game. I've been playing this game for the past couple of months and have become well-versed in the game’s combat system and mechanics. They’re really deep and complex, which is great if you’re looking for a compelling, full-featured combat experience, but they can make the game feel a bit daunting when you first jump in.

A typical battle scene. Lots of information to digest!

That said, I thought it would be a good idea to lay out some of the things I’ve learned in a blog post. Hopefully all this info, presented in an easily digestible format, will give you the advantage you’re looking for when you pick the game up on December 1st!

BLADES

To begin with, let’s discuss Blades. Blades are synthetic beings who wield different weapons full of tremendous power. Each Blade is born from what is called a Core Crystal. When a person touches a Blade’s Core Crystal, he or she will bond with that Blade and, as a result, be able to command that Blade in battle. A person who has bonded with a Blade is known as that Blade’s “Driver.”

Here we see a powerful and mysterious Blade, Pyra, alongside her Driver, Rex.

Drivers can bond with many different Blades, but can only command up to three in battle at a time. This is a big point at which strategy comes into play—once you’ve bonded with multiple Blades, which will you take into battle, and who will you start with? An indicator at the lower left of the game screen shows you who your current three Blades are; the top position represents the lead Blade, who always enters battle first.

Here we see Pyra in the first position, with Finch and Kogoku in the second and third positions respectively.

A small amount of time must pass before you can swap to one of your other two Blades. There are ways to shorten this amount of time by using Blades more frequently or completing quests, but there will always be a bit of a wait. And which Blade you choose to start battle with should always be part of your plans.

From there, though, battle strategy gets even more complex. Think of it like peeling an onion—there are lots of layers to go!

First layer: Auto-Attacks

When a Driver battles, they will automatically attack enemies in range using their active Blade’s weapon. This is known as the Auto-Attack mechanic. The speed of auto-attacks varies depending on the weapon. Some, such as Knuckles, are fast, but do less damage compare to slower weapons such as Axe. Auto-attacks are very important, as each of these strikes builds up a meter that can be used to unleash stronger abilities known as “ARTS.”

Second Layer: ARTS

ARTS are special abilities that Drivers can use—which ARTS a Driver has access to at any given time all depends on his or her active Blade and that Blade’s weapon. Not only are ARTS more powerful than auto-attacks, but they can also cause a wide variety of status effects that can quickly disable foes. To efficiently use ARTS, you’ll need to understand where to best position your Driver and what type of status effect each ART may cause. If you really learn your stuff, you can chain ARTS together to cause massive damage.

Third Layer: ART Combos

There are many different ways to chain ARTS together, so allow me to illustrate with a specific example:

Thanks to her active Blade, Dromarch, a Driver named Nia uses an ART to temporarily afflict an enemy with a status effect called “Break.” While this status effect is active, a status indicator appears above that enemy’s name.

Seeing the status indicator, Rex quickly swaps to using Pyra as his active Blade and, thanks to her, uses an ART that afflicts that same enemy with the “Topple” status effect.

These two attacks chain together, knocking the enemy down and leaving it completely defenseless for a short period of time.

If party members are fast enough, they can change their active Blades to accomplish even more impressive combo moves. For example, they can work together to launch an enemy up into the air and then smash it back down, dealing tremendous damage while at the same time securing health regeneration and bonus items for themselves. This type of chained sequence is known as an ART Combo. 

Fourth Layer: Specials

As Drivers use ARTS, they gradually build up a multi-level Specials meter that ranges from level one to level four. (More on the significance of levels later.) When a special is activated, the Driver stands back and lets his or her active Blade attack the enemy directly with a flashy attack. Specials inflict more damage than an ART and, more importantly, also inflict an elemental status effect based on the element of the Blade, so it’s a really good idea to use ARTS so you can unleash specials frequently. 

Keep in mind that each Blade’s elemental affinity is key to the next layer of combat, Blade Combos. Deeper and deeper we go!

Fifth Layer: Blade Combos

Understanding how to perform a Blade Combo is key to taking down powerful enemies, and at first this system can seem a little daunting. However, once you understand the flow, it becomes very easy to pull off these killer moves.

To make things a little easier, here’s an example of a full Blade Combo:

Rex uses Finch’s level one Wind special to inflict a level one Wind status effect for a short period of time. While this status effect is active, an elemental tree appears at the top right side of the screen. This elemental tree shows a sequence of specials that, if executed correctly, will result in an incredibly powerful attack that prevents affected enemies from using abilities, self-destructing, or even using their own Blades.  

The first part of the tree above, for our example enemy, shows the evidence of Finch’s level one Wind status effect. It also shows the elements needed for the next steps in the combo.

To continue this Blade combo, a party member now needs to use either a level two Wind or a level two Ice special before time runs out. Nia takes the lead, and uses a level two Wind special.

To complete this Blade combo, a party member now needs to use either a level three Earth special or a level three Lightning special before time runs out. We’ll assume, for the sake of this example, that someone in the party has enough saved up in their special meter and the right Blade to make that happen!

With all three steps completed, an incredible attack is unleashed that’s over 10 times stronger than a normal special attack!

After a Blade Combo is successfully performed, a small orb containing the last element used in the combo appears and floats around the enemy’s body.

If your next Blade Combo ends with the element contained in that orb, it will do significantly less damage. (So no spamming the same Blade Combo over and over again, people!) But if you’re ready to dive into the next layer of combat mechanics, you can burst that orb and get it out of the way.

Sixth Layer: Chain Attacks

Chain Attacks are the best way to deal damage in the game and are CRUCIAL in taking down bosses and special world enemies. When performed correctly, Chain Attacks can deal hundreds of thousands of points of damage. (And YES, some enemies really do have that many HP to spare.)

To perform a Chain Attack, you first need to fill your Party Meter—this’ll happen gradually as you battle enemies and perform a variety of other types of attacks.

Once your Party Meter is full, press the + Button to initiate a Chain Attack sequence. During this sequence, your Drivers will each take a turn attacking the enemy with a level one Special that has its attack power turned waaaay up!

Now, here where it gets really fun. If you have multiple orbs stacked on an enemy, you can try to burst them every time you attack during a Chain Attack sequence. It takes three hits to burst an orb, and each time you do so each of your three active Drivers gets to take another turn at attacking the enemy. If you time it right, their Specials meter will keep filling up and their attack power will keep climbing!  

Burst three or more orbs and taking down a boss in the process is incredibly rewarding.

There is one more layer to combat—something called “canceling”—but I will save that for another day. I hope this explanation of combat is helpful for you all and that you have as much fun as I am when playing this game!

Take care,

—Demetrius B.

[moonlightcrossfire]

HOW I GOT MYSELF TOGETHER ?

HOW I DECIDED TO GET MYSELF TOGETHER?

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 16

Hey guys! I know it's been a quite while I haven't posted anything here, it's just I've been through extreme moment of indecisiveness and doubt with plenty plenty plenty of breakdowns, hesitation and fear.

Fear of what? Of not being able to get myself together and make everything move through the correct path. If you're a huge procrastinator, a reluctant soul that has that hidden glow that's afraid to step outside, hope this helps you and be your sign to get your shit together.

Don't you ever get that feeling in your insides that makes you feel strange? Makes you feel there's something wrong? Or most likely, can it be a sign that'll push you to change your life?

I got that feeling that twirled my insides and let guilt build through me and sneak into my blood, it was screaming that I was wasting my time and indeed I was. Then, I automatically smiled and I felt clips of my future self flashing in front of my eyes, I realised back then that I didn't want to be that girl who spends her day in her sweatpants watching TikToks or scrolling through Instagram watching people reach places when I know I can reach the same places, does it make sense?

PSA: Sweatpants will always be the greatest piece of clothing ever made for women.

When I got that vibe, I knew my energy wouldn't lie to me. My mood changed real quick, from depressed and doubtful to someone who's sure of what she wants to do and where does she want to reach.

In a night full of stars, here's how I decided to change the way I lived:

1. Wake up early everyday, even on weekends.

All those who know me know that I run to my bed as soon as the clock says 9:00 PM, sometimes 8:30. They'd be like, "What makes you go to bed so damn early?" "The night is still in its beginning, at its finest, why would you want to sleep now?" Etc etc.. and my answer would be that I'm exhausted or I don't like staying up late, boring answers I know, it's just the way it is. However, it's been scientifically proven that sleeping early and waking up early increase your life's longevity, and sleeping for less than six hours will make you susceptible to illnesses. The health benefits of sleeping early are endless, do your research! The point is, waking up early doesn't only have you ready the day with positive energy but it makes you more organised if you're a busy person occupied with school, career, hobbies or interests. Take advantage of sleeping early!

2. To Do lists are your new best friends.

The best timings to write your to-do lists are either before you go to bed or after you wake up. To Do lists are known for keeping you on track, it helps you plan your day and accomplish things you postponed to go out with your friends or ignoring what you gotta do to finish another episode of your favourite show and end up forgetting what you have to do. Get a journal or a planner and take it EVERYWHERE you go, jot down reminders, appointments, chores, anything that won't make you forget your duties. By doing that, you'll feel responsibility has grown to be a part of your existence, neatness and organisation as well. Personally, in my To Do list I writ down tasks that I believe I can finish in a day. For example, doing homework, writing a new chapter for the new project I'm writing, make character maps, take pictures for my VSCO, write excerpts to post on MoonlightCrossfire, etc etc. When I write my first to do list I tried my hardest not to procrastinate, it was quite difficult not to procrastinate but I accomplished 70% of what I wouldn't have done if I was on my phone all the time. So, start writing your first To Do list right now!

3. Read affirmations, pray, set goals.

I've heard that reading affirmation boosts your mood to a certain extent. I believe it's what law of attraction is about. For who doesn't know what Law of Attraction is, it's the law which uses the power of the mind to translate our thoughts and turn them into reality. Specifically talking, if you think positively, the positive things will come to life. Reading affirmations such as calling yourself beautiful or believing you can do whatever you want to do or striving to love yourself more and being grateful for whatever God has given to you will make you see thing from a bright perspective. Try calling yourself beautiful in front of the mirror, our conscience will hug you and warmth will contaminate your skin.

Praying for a beautiful day or a better life or a respectful job or a happier self by means making your relationship with God a genuine relationship even if you aren't religious will turn your tables. Whenever you get the chance to pray, do it for yourself before anyone else.

Setting goals whether they're near goals or future ones will make you feel more stimulated by clinging more to them as passion eventually strengthens, that's when you know that you should never give up on things you find your peace of mind into and unleashes your true self to.

4. Focus on your education.

I'm an average student, my grades are like rollercoaster, I reach high highs and get unfortunate grades, it's pretty normal. I maintain a good score by giving my best to subjects I love and find myself flexible in studying such as literary subjects, as for scientific subjects however I don't mind a passing grade. When you study the subjects you love and feel like shining in them, you'll study them with so much effort yet so relaxed because you are aware of your abilities in these subjects. On the other hand, the subjects that you feel like you study them for the sake of passing, you need to build a mentality that you know passing these classes will bring you closer to achieve your dreams. You have to know that the path to reach your dream life will be full of thorns and and barriers to reach the sunshine and butterflies.

5. Eating healthy + moving more.

Sleeping early isn't enough for a drastic life change if you sleep with a mouth full of chocolate or a bag of chips or a burger. I'm NOT saying you should kill your evil cravings, but try to do a little bit of swapping. Pinterest is full of recipes and swaps that will statist your craving and at the same time revives you instead of slowly killing you. I've realised that a little bit late and I felt something blocking my throats that I won't eat as much McDonald's as I used to, but we have to let go of things that makes us happy sometimes. (McDonald's is the love of my life :/) Healthy food isn't as bad as people make it look like, we convince ourselves that they're not flavourful to run back to fast food and satisfactory foods.

If you're a lazy person like I am that moves from a couch to another and considers it a workout, you might want to read this. Doing chores will have move automatically and as you move you are helping your body become more flexible, you burn calories and you feel lightweight. At school or work or stuff, try to walk as much as you can, it keeps you alive.

Last but foremost, when I write my to do list, I write a water tracking list that makes sure I drink 8-10 cups of water a day. Water is your life saviour, it keeps you hydrated, helps you lose weight, keeps you in the bathroom so you won't get involved with bullshit and drama + it clears your skin. Who said detox water isn't recommended as well? Water with lemon and mint is my favourite water detox combination, you can add pomegranates too!

6. Limit distractions and use of electronics.

Your series can wait, your friends can wait, your lover can wait, your family can wait but your future doesn't wait for you. Why? Because you chase your future, it is not your future that chases you. It is preferable to limit the use of electronics while working or studying. I'm teaching myself to get used to not be on my phone a lot, I'm teaching myself to focus without looking at my phone and surrender to surf social media, I'm teaching myself to resist it. You should learn resistance, too. Try to use your electronics when you're 100% done with all your tasks on your to do list, you won't have anything to carry on your shoulder and you can check your friends' posts and stories or watch some celebrity tea.

7. DON'T KILL THE VIBE, CREATE PLAYLISTS!

Ever since I downloaded Spotify I made different playlists for different moods and I honestly love them all and vibe to them with my heart like I can't explain how I am passionate about my music taste. The fact that people make fun of the music I listen to because I don't listen to what they're used to listen to, not because the music I listen to makes me superior, it's just a matter of taste. When you listen to music you love, your happiness hormones boost your body, mind and soul. When your body, mind and soul are full, your creativity becomes limitless. I listen to music pretty much all the time specially when I'm writing, it gets me in the mood and I get so inspired by the stories every song holds. If you're a lover of music, you're forever young.

To sum up this blogpost, planning your life out and finding yourself and getting your shit together are major keys to reach your purpose. It will make your life much easier, enjoyable, satisfactory and pleasurable. Who doesn't want that? Then, learn to live your life the way you want to live it. They say you only live once, right? Live by this motto.

[jamesosiris]

Dragon Seed: Chapter One

Dragon Seed is being released on the 28th February – that means it’s preview time!

Pre-order Dragon Seed here: Amazon (All Stores)

Chapter 1

The coughing fit kicked me upright before I was even awake. Strangling, eyes throbbing from the pressure in my head, I coughed and heaved and flailed around, unable to see anything but dancing black and white spots. My lungs were burning by the time I pitched back onto my pillows, exhausted and shaking with lingering terror. Not just terror of the present: terror of the future that awaited me. I was now at Stage Two of the HEX virus – in three days’ time, I’d be dead.

There were no nurses in our quarantine tent. Everyone here was already sicker than me, moaning and rattling in their sleep. Still wheezing, I fumbled across for the box of bleach wipes next to my Army cot and used them to clean up my face and hands. The smell made my throat burn raw, and I shook with unfamiliar weakness. I hurt all over. My joints felt like angry dwarves had been pounding them with hammers while I slept… and it was only my second day of being sick.

My tent bunked eleven other soldiers, all infected, all of us in the prime of our lives. My conscript’s uniform only had three badges on it: my platoon, my rank – Private – and my name badge, which was just my surname, ‘Park’. I was twenty-seven, fit despite my chronic gaming habit, used to bouncing around the world with a pack and rifle. When I rolled up a sleeve and looked down at the inside of my arm, the smooth tan skin I was used to seeing was mottled with a spreading red rash.

HEX was like clockwork. The first day hits you like a train, and five days later, you’re toast. By tomorrow, I wouldn’t be able to walk. Day Three was the worst day, because you were still aware of everything that was happening to your body. I’d watched people cough until the veins in their eyes ruptured and they began to cry blood. If I did nothing, if I followed orders and stayed in bed to die, that was all I had to look forward to. But as Baldrick from Black Adder would say: “I have a cunning plan.”

Assuming I could find the strength to get my ass out of bed.

My hands were shaking with fever as I pulled up my ration of medications and fumbled them out into my palm, clenching my teeth while I tried not to drop them everywhere. The cocktail of tablets were all anyone had to fight HEX, the common name of the H5N1-X virus: a lab-made super-flu unleashed on the world as a weapon of war. The tablets would take down the fever, keep my lungs from filling up, help the cough, and manage some of the pain. When I stood up, my head began to pound even harder. I pinched the bridge of my nose, willing the pain to stop, and then got dressed. A t-shirt, BDU pants, boots, then my sidearm. Last but not least, I struggled my pack on, took one last look at the other men in the tent, and hobbled outside. I’d packed the most important things I needed, just one small bag for me and my brother. There wasn’t much need for ordinance where we were going.

I forced myself to a clumsy jog outside, moving past ripped and dirty tents full of coughing, moaning people. We had started with a division between soldiers and civilians, but that division had broken down entirely. The only armed patrols on duty were PALADIN sentry robots: each one seven feet tall, loud, clunky, with sensor arrays instead of faces. They prowled the ragged rows of tents and manned the perimeter gates, standing watch or marching in set patrol routes no longer directed by a human controller. The bots’ reflexes were starting to slow as their batteries wound down. When we were healthier, me and the other lepers in quarantine had had fun throwing things onto them in the yard. Hats, scarves… we even uploaded a few videos we called ‘Stuff on Our Robot Overlords’.

Unlike human guards, PALs could stand watch at full attention for forty-eight hours – provided they were at full charge. With no one to top up their juice, the ones that were still moving were sluggish, like humans who hadn’t had any sleep. Sweat poured down my face in the early morning chill as I broke from cover to cover to keep out of their sight. I focused on putting one foot after the other. My heart was pounding, my guts were cold and twisted with fear. Not only fear of dying, either.

I’d received a text on an old civilian cell phone I’d kept, but now only used for morning alarms. It was a message from my brother, Steve. He hadn’t spoken to me in five years. The last time I’d seen him was during the big knockdown, drag-out fight that had ended in me stalking out of his house and out of his life. But three nights ago, Steve had contacted me. He’d sent me only two awful words. “Mom’s dead.”

Then, ten minutes later. “I’m sick. If you’re alive, get to Washington D.C. You’re named in my will. If you’re sick… please come home. PLEASE.”

I didn’t know what was worse: that mom had died and no one had called to tell me, or that Steve had gotten sick caring for her. He hadn’t thought to ask me to come and help. The sad thing was that it was probably an honest oversight, and that only made it worse.

Guilt tore at me as I waited for a PAL to turn around, and then staggered out from cover and through the ramshackle wire perimeter of the quarantine camp. The robot’s rear sensors were covered by a USMC cap that hung at a jaunty angle over the thermal lens. There had been a method to our madness.

My mission was to reach the base’s A-Block garage and reunite with the love of my life, Mona. She was waiting for me in the parking lot in spot A-457, concealed by a large locked tarpaulin.

“Hi, baby. How are you doing under there?” I tried to croon to her, but my voice came out as a harsh croak. I unlocked the tarp and pulled it off, throwing it carelessly to the side. Underneath it was a stripped down, banged up Ducati 996X. Mona’s bare steel frame hadn’t been painted in a while, and her fuel tank had a couple of dents and scratched paint, battle scars from the stunts we did together. Like most motorcycle stuntmen, I’d started on a little 250cc bike, a Ninja, which had enough power to do the job but hadn’t punished me when I’d screwed up. I’d worked my way to stunting and racing the Ducati. If you screwed up on an 996X, it would punish you. It was the closest thing to a dragon I would ever ride outside of a video game.

I normally enjoyed the ritual of putting on my motorcycle gear, my suit of armor. Kevlar jeans, boots, jacket, helmet, gloves, in that order. Today, I only had gloves and goggles, my sweat-soaked uniform, and a bag. I swung a leg over, and took a moment to catch my breath before turning the key. The bike came to life with a deep booming purr, and for a couple of seconds I just sat with it and drank in the way the machine made my body rumble. It would be the second-last time I’d ever ride her.

The first leg was to find my brother. We’d make peace, I hoped, and then I’d take Mona out to the highway and ride as long and as far and as fast as I could. We’d tear up the Big Sur at a hundred and twenty until we were almost out of gas. When the needle touched Empty, the plan was to wheelie jump the bike off a cliff overlooking the Pacific, because screw this whole ‘drowning on your own lungs’ goat fuckery. I was a stuntman. When I died, it was going to be spectacular.

I walked my bike backwards, turning her to line up with the exit ramp, and then threw it into gear. The purr turned into a snarl as the chassis kicked underneath me, the front of the bike briefly lifting as I turned the throttle and screeched off.

The only way in or out of Fort Richard was the main boom gate, but I wasn’t the first to desert and I wasn’t going to be the last. One of my buddies had given me directions to a section of unmanned fence where waves of soldiers and desperate refugees had cut holes in the wire and poured in and out. As I drew up on it, I could see that he’d been correct, in that the hole was there, but it was now manned. Two PALADINs waited on either side of the gap, which was big enough to admit an elephant. The railguns in their hands and heaps of dead – some in uniform – strewn on the ground around them was testament to why no one was no longer going in or out.

“Shitballs.” Resigned to an untimely demise, I threw my bike into third gear, and hunkered down as the Ducati howled. I spun the back wheel, raised a fist, and energetically rasped a battlecry. “PORK CHOP SANDIWICHES!”

The robots saw me coming, visored helmets swiveling. They aimed, and I swerved hard and low to the ground. I came out of the zig and zagged as they opened fire where my motorcycle had been only a second before. Any panic I felt in the face of being fired on had been beaten out of me in Indonesia and Syria. I kept my focus and leaned the bike over until the ground tore open the knee of my pants, swooping along the ground and then righting up as I blasted through the hole and sailed out over the embankment below. The robots fired at me during the jump, and several rounds blew by close enough that I felt the sting on my arms, but they were no longer fast enough.

My stomach swooped as the rush hit.

“Sayonara, bitches!” I found myself laughing, giddiness breaking through the cold focus as I rode the heavy machine to the ground, clutching at it with knees and thighs. We hit the dirt, fishtailed, and kept roaring forward.

I nearly ran several civilians down as they stumbled to get out of the way. There were people everywhere out here, a camp much less organized than the one inside of the Fort. Fellow victims of HEX stood around coughing, or staring at me with dead, confused eyes. There were a lot of kids, many without parents. The hard summer ground had somehow been churned to mud, and the air hung heavy with the smells of human misery.

I pulled over to catch breath, which only resulted in a coughing fit that felt like it was going to send my eyeballs shooting out of my head. When I pulled the cloth away from my mouth, it was bloody. I stared at it in impotent rage, and then, with anger burning a hole through my gut, at the huge silhouette in the sky. Looming above us all from the bay was the Golden Gate Shard, a mile-high megastructure that jutted up from the water like a glittering crystal spike. The Generals and Colonels were up in there along with the rest of California’s elite, sealed away from HEX and protected from the war they had started.

“Fuckers.” Aching, my breath rattling in my chest, I started the motorcycle and set the GPS for my family home on Hyde Street.

Despite not being Chinese, our parents had bought a house on the fringes of San Francisco’s Chinatown at a time when housing was still remotely affordable. It was a small rowhouse at the end of a strip of larger rowhouses, with a big parking lot on one side that was always crammed with cars. Now, the lot was abandoned. The chaos and rioting had been and gone, and everyone who’d survived had fled the city to try and escape the spread of HEX. I was shaking with fatigue by the time I pulled up, running on nothing but adrenaline and the cocktail of drugs I’d taken an hour and a half before. It was by will alone that I swung my leg over and stumbled toward the dark green front door. It was the home where Steve and I had grown up. I hadn’t been here in seven years.

I pressed a shaking hand to the palm lock, barely believing it would work after all this time. When the lock flashed green and clicked, my legs nearly went out from me. Mom and Dad hadn’t completely erased me from their lives after all.

“Steve? Steve, you alive?” I called as I opened the door.

The stench that billowed out of the house was like a slap to the face. I recoiled, struggling not to vomit. Breathing in that dead smell on the battlefield was one thing. Breathing it in at your family home was enough to make me want to run away a second time, as far and as fast as I could.

“Hector?” My brother’s voice was a dry rasp, but I could still hear the surprise in it.

Bracing myself, I pushed through the stench and went inside, freezing up for a moment as the old instinct to take my shoes off at the door kicked in. I shook it off and followed Steve’s voice to the den. He was propped up on the sofa, a bloody blanket half-fallen over his lap. I knew by looking at him that he well into Day Three. HEX had made a ruin of my tall, handsome brother. His skin was mottled with bruises, his eyes sunken and his face gray. He already looked like a corpse. I stopped in the doorway, too shocked to move or speak.

“Hec… Hector.” He wheezed on the ‘H’, trying to sit up higher. “You made it. My God. You look… so… so fit!”

“I call it the ‘Forced Conscription Jungle Warfare Diet.” My mouth was moving way ahead of my brain at this point. I checked myself. “And apparently I’m a snarky asshole when I’m sick. Sorry.”

“Hah.” He almost let himself laugh. “You’ve… you’ve changed so much.”

And you probably haven’t. I didn’t say it out loud: just forced a smile. “So have you.”

“How did… how did you… get here? You were in the Army?”

“I deserted,” I said. My voice was cracked, too, and it hurt to speak. But I wasn’t as bad as Steve, not yet. “About fucking time, too.”

Steve was so exhausted he didn’t even notice that I’d sworn. As I came closer, he searched over me in shocked relief. “Deserted? But you… you shouldn’t have deserted. Why didn’t you ask for leave?”

Typical Steve. “From who? There’s hardly anyone left. We were on the front lines for HEX. And I’m dying, Steve – what’s the worst they could do, shoot me?”

His eyes focused on the rash on my arms, and then it seemed to finally click. “Oh no. Not you, too.”

“Of course I’m sick,” I replied. I sat down on the floor. Sweat poured down my face and down my back. “Everyone’s sick. Dead or dying. The city’s deserted. We might be the last ones here, bro.”

He closed his eyes, as if struggling to process the enormity of it.

“Hey. I brought something for you.” I struggled the backpack off and pulled it around.

“What?”

“My RetroConnect,” I said. “And granddad’s library of games. I know you’ve been working on those fancy VR rigs and everything, but we used to play together and I thought, ‘Fuck it: might as well go out making up stupid Latin words for the Sephiroth theme song one last time’. You know how it goes: ‘French frogs, big cherries…”

“Peter Pan, magic cheese. Sephiroth!” He croaked. He couldn’t quite get the dramatic chorus falsetto going, but I busted up laughing and coughing anyway.

Steve and I were chalk and cheese in every significant way, and always had been. Games had been the one thing that had brought us together. The sounds of us hacking and wheezing were obliterated by the roar of a helicopter passing by overhead, low to the ground. By the time I could hear anything else, I was wheezing and gasping for air.

“I figure we can do at least one speedrun of most of these before we croak,” I continued once I got my voice and hand-eye coordination back, taking out the box and the chip with the games, and then the other things I’d brought: candy bars of every shape and size, chips, and energy drinks. “Remember that time we went trick or treating and told dad we were at cram school, and we ate ourselves sick?”

“He nearly killed us,” Steve said hoarsely.

He actually had nearly killed me. Dad hadn’t just been any normal kind of asshole: he had been a whacko-religious dentist who forbade sugar in the house, especially on Halloween. One year, we’d snuck in a bag of candy and gorged on chocolate and taffy until we’d puked. Dad beat me with a folded electrical cord. Even Steve had gotten a few lashes for that one.

“Here.” I passed him some chocolate.

“No,” he said. He shook his head, struggling up a little more. “Hector, listen to me. I asked… asked you to come for a reason. Listen-”

“Hear me out, first,” I said, unwrapping a candy bar for myself. It helped cover up just how much my hands were shaking. “I came to like… apologize. I hate that we spent so much time fighting. I hate that I was jealous of you and I hate that dad used you to make me feel bad. I hate it that you and him trashtalked me all the way through school. I’m sorry I was such a jerk to you. We don’t have much time… and I just want to hear you’re sorry for treating me the way you did, then move on and play Secret of Mana until we croak, okay?”

“Hector. Listen,” he rasped. “I know this. I know it all. You being alive, being here ch-changes everything. Listen to me. They’re coming for me. I’m going to make them take you with me.”

“Who? What?” I frowned, trying not to hold my breath. Even though HEX was working its way through my body, I still felt weird about breathing in the air around the infected. Steve had been bright with health not even a week ago. It seemed like the flu took him faster than the others… or maybe I just noticed more.

“Ryuko.” He fixed me with a fever glare.

Ryuko? Ryuko was the AI systems company he worked for. I sort of nodded and shook my head at the same time, not sure what he was trying to say.

He reached out his hand for mine. “They’re late, but they’re coming for me. I’ll tell them when they come that… that… I’ll make them…make them take you. You go with them, Hector.”

“Ryuko? I don’t understand.” He was babbling, and it creeped me out. I’d never known Steve to talk like this, but he was serious about whatever he was trying to get across to me. His agitation beat against my skin. I squeezed his hand in both of mine. “It’s okay, man. You need to rest.”

“It’s secret… it’s…” His eyes wandered past me, and I saw something flash at his temple: a small blue light. His Brain-to-Interface link.

“Ryuko,” he whispered, staring at something behind me.

There was a bang on the door, and then another as the wood splintered and then crashed in under the weight of a battering ram. Five years of training and experience kicked in instantly. Coughing, I was up on my feet with my pistol aimed before I’d even had time to think.

“Hector, no!” Steve hissed.

My grip on the pistol sagged at his command, but I was still in firing position as soldiers poured in through the door. Not ordinary soldiers. They were all identical: the same height, the same matte-black bioarmor, the same oversized rifles and terrifying stillness when they came to a stop. The guns were pointed at my face, and I froze in fear and confusion. There were no eyes behind those featureless black visors. They were androids. Machines.

“No fire. No fire!” Steve cringed back into the sofa, lifting his voice until it broke.

“No fire.” A woman’s voice broke through in the sudden silence.

I eased down as the unseen woman rounded the corner and stood in the doorway, and dropped the pistol down as my eyes widened. She was tall, supermodel perfect, like a vision out of Viking myth. Lean, long legs, a sculpted face like an avenging angel, golden blonde hair pinned up behind her head in a twist underneath a clear, HAZMAT-style helmet. The rest of her outfit looked to me like a fancy white spacesuit, and I wasn’t too sick not to notice how the thick leather-like material hugged her curves. I blinked several times, not convinced that I wasn’t tripping balls.

The woman looked between the pair of us. “Mister Park?”

“Park One and Park Two, at your service.” Every breath hurt like hell, but sassiness was just as incurable as HEX. “Bro, is this-”

“You informed the company that you had no living relatives, Mister Park.” She didn’t bat an eye. Angel Lady’s voice was cool, crisp, and matched her elegant face and hair. Now that she was up close, something was pinging at my uncanny valley reflex. There was something not quite right about this lady. “Has the status of your family changed?”

“Yes,” Steve croaked.

“What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?” I asked the room.

Steve shuffled behind me, and I turned to see him sitting upright. He was trembling with the effort, his jaw tense, eyes wild and hot. With a glance at the others, I went to him and helped him to stay up. His hand grasped my forearm, tight and inhumanly strong.

“T-Temperance. This… this is my brother. Little brother.” His breath bubbled on every exhalation. “Do… background check under… Park Jeong-Ho.”

I flinched at the sound of my birth name.

“Sir, Ms. Hashimoto ordered me to bring you-”

“You’re too late.” Steve retorted, and for a moment, he looked more like himself. He’d always had a fire burning deep inside, a fire he’d manifested by powering through achievement after achievement, scholarship after scholarship. He’d won local and state awards for mathematics and linguistics, joined Mensa, and had gone on to work for Ryuko Entertainment as one of the best AI immersion developers on the United States’ side of the Pacific.

“I’m very sorry we weren’t here yesterday as we planned, Mister Park,” Temperance replied. She didn’t sound very sorry. “My transport was delayed by rogue aircraft. If you cannot travel, I am afraid we cannot honor the contract.”

“I can travel, and yes, you will honor the contract. Hector is my next of kin,” he said, straightening his back. “I want to forfeit my place to him.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Temperance said. “My orders were to bring you…”

“Get Akari on a BCI channel,” Steve said, his voice firm with authority. “Now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Steve, what the fuck is going on?” I turned on him, suddenly angry.

He glared at me with blood-shot eyes. “Hector. Not now.”

Steve’s BCI flashed, and then Temperance’s. They gazed at each other in silence with faraway expressions for several moments as they exchanged information. Once it was done, Steve sagged back into the sofa, and Temperance stood there like a shop mannequin, inhumanly still. She wasn’t breathing.

A gynoid, I realized. Holy shit. There were only a handful of real androids ‘alive’ in the world, so to speak. The woman in front of me was the real deal – an artificial life form. A walking supercomputer.

“Thank you, Mister Park. Ms. Hashimoto is revising her orders,” Temperance said. “I will perform the requested background check. Please look directly at me, Mister Park Jeong-Ho.”

“My preferred name is Hector. No ‘mister’,” I grunted. More out of surprise than anything, I looked up and met her eyes. They were as wide and blue as the Caribbean Sea, a perfect crystalline color that seemed to dance with light.

“Thank you, Mister Park. Management has approved your appeal,” she said, after five minutes or so.

Steve shuddered. “Thank God.”

I scowled, glancing between them, and got to my feet. “Would either of you like to tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Hector, I am here to execute your brother’s contract with the Ryuko Virtual Reality Corporation,” the gynoid replied. “Your brother was an employee involved with a project that is being repurposed. Mister Steven Park, if I understand your uploaded testimony, do you vouch that this man is qualified for the trial and you wish to include him under the terms of your contract?”

“Hey, wait a second.” I stood, alarmed. “What contract?”

“Yes.” Steve choked. “Take him. Please.”

Intellectually, I knew Steve was doing something to try and save my ass. What, exactly, I wasn’t sure – but I was starting to get pissed off. I’d never had control of my life because of our parents, and now he was trying to control me, too. “Wait! Take me where? To do what?”

“I am the Executive Assistant of Akari Hashimoto, the CEO of Ryuko Corporation,” Temperance replied. “I have been ordered to make you an offer as requested by your brother, Ryuko’s Senior Virtual Intelligence Developer, Steven Park. The offer must be made in a secure facility, and you are under no obligation to accept the terms and conditions… but it may very well save your life. Would you like to accompany me to discuss your future?”

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Dragon Seed: Chapter One was originally published on James Osiris Baldwin