#they had actually wanted to buy the unit but the owner didn’t want to sell so they got a house instead

[morgenlich]

while touring an apartment i already really liked today, we happened to visit while the tenants moving out were there (they have technically moved out and were there to grab the rest of their things and finish Deep Cleaning) and they had nothing but great things to say so now i want that place Even More lol

[bruinhilda]

Okay, I’m gonna get in before the new Seuss brouhaha starts.  I imagine this is going to start hitting the news (in very distorted form) shortly.

My library system had to take the six discontinued Seuss books out of circulation today.  We didn’t want to.  We would much rather have continued having them out on the shelves, available to be checked out, rather than stashed in the closed collection, only available in-library and under staff watch.

Why did we have to do this?

Because of THIS SHIT:

In case you can’t see the image: that is, in fact, $17 Dr Seuss books being listed used for THOUSANDS of dollars.  “Now a collector’s item!”  Every one of those sellers can go fuck themselves.

Our admin was actually a little too slow on this.  At least 5 branches were cleaned out yesterday.  Several people were involved, one of which got a new library card specifically to check them all out.  We’re not getting any of them back, obviously.  Unless they’re caught selling them, which is possible but unlikely, as the cops generally don’t bother with this sort of crime (unless the right people bug them enough.)

This is not the first time we’ve had to deal with the book pirates.  We’ve have to take quite a few titles out of circulation over the years because of collector crazes driving the prices sky-high.  It’s always disgusting.  And I doubt we’re the only library system having to deal with this problem today.

I have no problem if you want these books for yourself, and are looking to buy copies.  But for the love of crap, DO NOT buy from these goddamn rippoff artists.  And be aware, if your used copy has library labels and markings and no official “withdrawn” or “discard” stamping, it is very likely stolen goods.  These assholes steal public property meant to allow everyone in the community access to a work, and sell it for their personal profit.  And then other assholes come yelling at the library staff for “censoring” those works, because we are somehow supposed to have an endless supply of books for selfish shits to steal.

And no, I am NOT blaming the Seuss Foundation for any of this.  They’re allowed to decide what they want to stop publishing or keep publishing, same as any book company.  They’re not going out trying to erase those six books from existence.  The grifters are doing that, yanking them from stores and libraries so they can drive the price up.  They aren’t interested that you and I can’t buy or borrow them.  Hell, that’s the point.  They want rich collectors to shower them with money, and the collectors want something the masses don’t have.  Every news outlet and person who distorted this story and claimed the books were being banned (regardless of whether they were for or against this) played right into their greedy little hands.

I’m looking forward to next week, when crap news outlets publish “think pieces” about the “cancel culture problem in the libraries” causing the Dr Seuss books to vanish from the shelves.  I’m sure the New York Times will eventually have a nice in-depth interview with a “hero” rescuing “unwanted” books from libraries to “unite them with more appreciative owners.”  Expect me to be crankier than usual.  (At this rate I will be a black hole of pissedoffness by the end of the year.)

[pekotranslates]

Traces of Two Pasts pgs 150-208/208

“I’m strong when I'm determined. I worked hard selling those steamed buns, making money, saving it up, and paying back what I owed. On my days off, I trained and reviewed my martial arts. It wasn’t hard sticking to the same routine every day anymore.”

“In my opinion…” said Red XIII, “it suits your personality.”

“That’s right. I may have been attracted to a bustling lifestyle full of glamour and glitz, but what I actually craved was privacy and stability. Sure, there might not be a lot going on to spice things up, but to make up for that, bad things didn’t happen. I just took my showers, patted myself on the back and called it a day!”

“But the situation changed again.”

“How’d you guess?”

“I’m beginning to see a pattern here.”

※

Every few days, a young man would come to buy lunch. He would hang around for about a minute each time and watch over her with a gentle smile as she worked. Tifa recognized him as a regular.

“Happy 18th birthday,” said the young man.

“Huh?” Her hands automatically froze. “How did you—”

“Because you’ve already celebrated your 17th.”

That jogged her memory. He had to have been one of the people at the Planetology movie screening that Jessie had brought her to see. Her pulse quickened.

“Tifa, what’s the matter?” said Uncle, his tone piercing. Sometimes, customers would turn up to talk and monopolize her time, wanting her all to themselves. Uncle must have mistaken the young man to be one of these men. She told him everything was okay, lowered her voice and asked the man, “Do you know Jessie? What about Biggs and Wedge? They were with me that day.”

The young man’s expression turned gloomy.

“Yeah. There are rumors floating around that those guys are in Avalanche, so I've been distancing myself from them. Not everyone who studies Planetology agrees with their ways.”

“Of course not.” She needed to play along.

“Are you looking for them?”

“We have a debt to settle.” She hoped to be forgiven for that small lie.

The young man appeared the next day and ordered steamed buns.

“About what we discussed yesterday. I made some inquiries from my friends. The owner of the Stargazer Heights apartments in Sector 7 might know something about them. She’s got connections.”

“You went through all that trouble to ask for me? Thank you!”

“I’d like a favor in return…”—The young man lowered his voice.—“Can I take a picture with you?”

“Of course!”

He handed his camera to another customer behind him and struck a pose. Tifa leaned forward over the food cart counter to fit inside the frame. Her smile came naturally.

“Just one more shot!”

He wasn’t finished speaking before Uncle shouted from the back, “Hey! I’m gonna charge for that!”

Then came Wednesday. Compared to Sector 8, Sector 7 appeared to be much more cluttered. The entire place looked like one big alleyway, and the dust—perhaps due to the lack of proper pavement in several places—was quite concerning. Shops were lined up haphazardly along the road.

Occasionally glancing up, she saw glimpses of the pillar that supported the Sector 7 plate. She checked for directions, and after asking people a few times, arrived at Stargazer Heights without getting too lost.

It was an old, two-story building lined with a row of doors in the common corridor outside. She noticed AC condenser units. Perhaps each room came equipped with an AC.  The rent here definitely won't be cheap, thought Tifa to herself.

A thin, elderly woman stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the second floor. She looked over at Tifa, her mouth ajar.

“Why, if it isn’t Tifa!” It was Marle—one of the patients hospitalized at Damini’s clinic. How many years had it been since they met? “What are the odds! Why didn’t you come and see me sooner?”

“I didn’t know where you lived.”

“But you had my address, didn’t you? I gave it to, uh, what’s his face… The doctor’s son.”

Rakesh hadn’t told her anything. It couldn’t have possibly slipped his mind if he had been told. If that was the case, then maybe he never intended for her to know...

“How is the wound on your chest?” asked Marle.

“Much better. But there's still some pain.”

“My back’s taking its sweet time to heal too, even though it’s been my pride and joy and once mesmerized numerous men. Anyway, where are you off to? I’m quite well known around these parts. Ask me anything.”

“Is this Stargazer Heights? I came to see the landlord who owns these apartments. I heard she has connections.”

“Why, that’s me!”

“Really?! You see, I’ve been searching for some people.”

“Who are you looking for? Tell me.”

“Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge.”

Marle narrowed her eyes. “Biggs and Wedge are in the Neighborhood Watch. Jessie’s a young girl who’s often with them.”

Bingo.

“They’re my friends. We hung out together last year, but I have no idea where they’ve gone now.”

Marle’s eyes were completely shut. She appeared to be thinking over something.

“How much do you know about that group?”

“You mean... Avalanche?” whispered Tifa.

“I understand. So? Do those guys know where to find you?”

“Yes. They came over a few times.”

“And have you considered their feelings—of those people who don’t want to meet you?”

“Yes. That’s why, even if we can’t see each other, all I want to know is if they're okay. I was about to give up on that, but I got some info that might lead me to them, and I just couldn’t pass it up! I wanted to give it one more shot before I really gave up.”

“Hmm. I’ll look into it. Do you have some time?”

“Yes. Until evening, at least.”

“Alright then. Come here.”

Marle gestured for her to come closer, gave detailed instructions on how to get to a bar owned by one of her acquaintances, and then asked her to wait there.

※

“And this is where another connection was formed. The name of the bar and restaurant was ‘Seventh Heaven’.”

※

The Seventh Heaven bar and restaurant was larger than she had imagined. The terrace alone, built one level above the ground, could accommodate four food carts. The interior could easily fit eight carts. If each sold 1,000 steamed buns in a day, then she could make 36,000 gil per day and pay off her debt in just a few days! Thinking about that brought a bitter smile to Tifa’s face.

She surveyed the interior once more. Wiping the food carts from her imagination, she realized the place was empty. In front of her, sat a glass of iced tea, white and cloudy. She noticed the chip in the glass too.

From the look of it, the person tending to the bar and restaurant was the old man who was by himself at the counter. His hair and mustache were pure white. He wore a neat grey suit with a necktie and seemed the very picture of a proper gentleman. But, the man had a terrible complexion; He was deathly pale.

She recalled his frail voice and how slowly he moved when handing over her drink; if any more customers were to come in, she doubted he’d be able to handle them. It was obvious why the place was empty—A pity for such a nice establishment.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” said Marle as she slipped into the seat opposite Tifa. She did not look like she would be ordering any drinks for herself.

“About finding your friends. I've made arrangements to let them know you're searching for them. They'll find out for sure. You can be certain of that. I guarantee it. But the rest is up to them. You can’t force them. Understood?”

“Yes.” Things hadn’t gone the way she expected, but she felt like this was a step forward in the right direction. “Thank you.”

“Now’s not a good time.” Marle spoke in hushed tones. “Things are shaky for those at the top in Avalanche. Shinra senses this and is continuing with the Avalanche hunt. Avalanche has had a series of their meetings shut down. Nobody can get a hold of them, and they seem to be breaking off into smaller groups. That’s why they’re easily getting squashed by Shinra.”

“I see…”

The image of Jessie who had escaped, blood dripping down her face, flashed in her mind. So that fiasco was still ongoing then?

“Oh right,” said Marle, as if something had popped into her mind. “Your message will reach your friends. Provided they’re still alive, of course. I’m sure that part’s obvious to you.”

Marle walked her to the train station to send her on her way home. Along the way, the topic of the deserted Seventh Heaven was brought up. Old Man Monty, who was tending to the counter, was the owner and manager. After selling cocktails at a food cart for ages, his dream was finally realized with the construction of the bar. Business was thriving when it first opened, but lately night-time operations had ceased.

“A charming bartender used to serve drinks there, but she quit. Set her sights on becoming a Shinra employee and moved to the top of the Plate. He’s been looking for a replacement, but hadn’t had any luck finding one. To make matters worse, Monty’s lost all his energy with his declining health. He's actually younger than he looks, you know. He and I are around the same age.”

Marle sighed.

“Is that bartender who quit the only person who knows how to make those cocktails?”

“Monty is a first-class bartender himself, but his elbows and shoulders are all worn-out. If we don't do something, that place is going to fall into the wrong hands. He still owes quite a bit of money to the carpenter who built the bar.”

“That’s a pity. It’s a nice place.”

“Right?”

Just a little further down and they would reach the train station. Marle stopped and seized her by the arms.

“Do you love money?” Her tone was hushed and secretive.

“I don’t know about love, but I need it.”

“Good answer.” Marle seemed satisfied. “Now, Tifa. When is your next day off? Want to come over again?”

“I have Wednesdays off… But why? What's going on?”

“I’d like your help at the Seventh Heaven. You can come every Wednesday.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll talk to Monty about it. Sounds interesting, don't you think?”

Actually it did. Besides, it seemed like it would be fun. It had been a while since she remembered what “having fun” felt like.

“It's your only day off. If you plan on resting, you should certainly do so. But I have to tell you this.” Marle lowered her voice. “What the former bartender earned is supposedly eight times what you make doing sales.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”

In the back of her mind she thought perhaps it was a mistake on her part to make an instant reply.

She had heard somewhere that when you have something to look forward to, your work becomes more fulfilling. Uncle was in high spirits since sales were doing well. What she needed was to rearrange her schedule so that Wednesdays would be free from morning until night.

On Wednesdays, she usually reviewed her lessons from the secret manuals all in one go, so what she would have to do was portion out and allot those exercises to other days instead. Now that the purpose of her training wasn’t simply to “kill time”, she had one less obligation to worry about.

Wednesday arrived. She hurried over to see Marle early in the morning, and the two headed to Seventh Heaven together.

Monty, elated to the point of overwhelming Tifa, told her he looked forward to her success. Apparently, he valued her two years of experience working at the food stall.

The restaurant would open at 11 a.m. and serve lunch until 2 p.m. There would be a daily special plate, and that would be the only dish served on the menu. Monty would handle the cooking. From 2 p.m. until 7 p.m. would be tea time. Drinks were coffee, black tea—hot and cold—and two types of juices. There would be cake and cookies too. Except for the coffee and tea, everything else would be purchased from other shops. Bar time would start from 7 p.m. to midnight where they would serve drinks and simple snacks. Since the opening of the bar, their cocktails had been their pride and joy. But, after the bartender had quit, they could no longer serve them.

“I have this pain in my elbows, you see, so I can’t shake a mixer,” said Monty.

“Aren’t there plenty of other cocktails that don’t need to be shaken?” said Marle.

“Marle, you know it’s not about that. A bartender who can’t even shake a cocktail shouldn’t be serving them. It’s a matter of principle.”

“Who cares about that when your bar is on the line? You’re a fool!”

“Excuse me…” Tifa interrupted with some hesitation. “What do you  mean by that? Shake what?”

Both Monty and Marle turned to Tifa, stunned.

On that same day, Tifa walked around the inside of the bar and on the terrace, waiting to serve customers until 8 p.m. as they had agreed.

"It's easy for dust to collect on the terrace tables, so make sure to check on them and wipe them clean,” said Marle.

Following Marle's instructions, Tifa went outside onto the terrace, and it was there that she felt the eyes of passersby on the road, in a little square in front of the bar, look over in her direction. No, not just passersby, but people in the surrounding shops and houses too.

“Tifa, your face looks too stiff.”

“I’m feeling a bit nervous. They’re watching me, aren’t they?”

“Of course they’re watching you. Who else would it be?”

It finally dawned on her. He must be using her to draw customers to the bar. The same way Uncle did. Alright then. If that was how it was going to be, then so be it. But what she didn’t like was the idea that that was the only thing people saw in her. She wanted to garner respect from Marle and Monty for her skills. It was no longer fun for her knowing that she was only being used for her looks.

“Excuse me, but…” She mustered up the boldness to speak up. “The lunch plate doesn’t look appetizing at all. I’m really sorry. I know I just started here today.”

“Don’t be. I understand. I’m aware of that myself. Something needs to be done.”

“I’m sure you can manage. And I’m sure Marle will give us some advice too.”

“I don’t want to owe her more than I already do, but it can’t be helped. Let’s bring it up to her next week.”

That week, what should have been a deserted bar and restaurant was jam-packed to her disbelief. Once it turned into bar time, Monty, persuaded and prodded by Marle, made cocktails at the counter. Tifa worked busily among the merry drunks.

At 8 p.m., as specified, Monty paid her 1,000 gil.

“So much?!”

“That's roughly 50 percent of our sales so far. If you stay here until midnight, I’ll give you twice as much. Drinks brings in good profits.”

"Wow, that's great! But I’ll have to excuse myself for today. I have work tomorrow too."

"I hear you. I’ll be waiting for you next week then.”

After making arrangements with him, she was preparing to leave when Marle entered, her voice echoing in the bar, "Come on, Tifa! Time to go!"

The room became filled with groans and protests. Marle glanced over at Tifa and laughed unapologetically.

“I’ll be back next week! I look forward to working here at Seventh Heaven!”

Tifa bowed her head and walked out. It was a different kind of exaltation from what she felt after achieving the sales goal at the food stall. On top of that, the pay was 1,000 gil with the potential to be 2,000.

※

Beside her, Red XIII’s entire body shook.

“You’re laughing, aren’t you? You’re definitely laughing at me!”

“You’re just imagining things.”

Even his voice was trembling.

“If I didn’t pay back all that money, I’d still be trapped, okay? I couldn’t help it. But it sure does seem like money was the only thing on my mind at the time.”

“I heard someone say that chasing after gil can change a person.”

“That’s true. But in my case, I’d prefer to call it ‘growth’.”

※

Early in the morning on the next Wednesday, after she showered and returned to her container, Rakesh came over.

“Morning, Tifa! Heading out somewhere again today?”

“Umm, I made plans to see my friend.”

“Oh, so you made some friends.”

She struggled to answer him. Even if she really had had plans, was it necessary to tell Rakesh?

“Oh, sorry, sorry. You’re free to do anything you like. I mean, it’s your day off.”

“What was it you needed?”

“Manson’s getting worried. Worried that you might be working somewhere else. At least that’s the info he got.”

“Well, I’m not.” That might have come out too harsh. Lying made her tense up.

“Well, that’s fine. I'm just letting you know.”

“Okay.”

“You’re mine.” Rakesh looked like he was in pain. “I’m not actually saying that to you, alright? It’s just…you were placed under my supervision, so I have my own responsibilities.”

“I understand.”

When did Rakesh Orange start to become only a gloomy presence in her life? So was Manson who was always lurking behind him. Regardless of what type of person he was, she intended to pay back every last gil. It was a matter of stubbornness and pride. With the steamed bun business booming, it wasn’t hard on her. She and Uncle also had great teamwork. But if she could earn good income at the Seventh Heaven on top of that, perhaps she could get rid of her debt sooner?

However, an incident occurred at the Seventh Heaven.

“Monty collapsed at the end of last week. It was his heart,” Marle informed her.

“Huh?” Tifa felt like her own heart was being squeezed.

“They might have saved his life, but it won’t be easy for him to continue working in this business. Such a pity. He was so eager too.”

“I see…”

She recalled how his face lit up when he talked about doing the lunch set. Like a grandfather speaking about his own grandchild. The kind of eyes she saw plenty of times among the seniors in the Calisthenics Club. Perhaps the Seventh Heaven was like a grandchild to Monty, or perhaps…

“These past three days, I’ve been doing the best I could, but baked sweets, coffee and tea are the only things I know how to serve,” said Marle. “We’ll go with those items today. And no food. We’ll need to open at 11 am and close by 5 p.m. as well.”

“5 p.m.? Isn’t that too early?”

“Any later than that and the number of intoxicated customers will start to climb. Sorry, but I don't want to be around drunks. And you’re still a beginner yourself.”

Her plans came crashing down. The news made for a lacklustre morning. Despite that, she and Marle went ahead and got things ready, and then opened doors for business.

“Good grief! He’s here again!” Marle, who was behind the counter, had leaned over and was peering outside. “He’s been squatting down in that terrace seat every single day since the week before, idling over that one cup of coffee and a glass of juice for hours.”

She glanced through the window and noticed a large, dark-skinned man about to take his seat. Across from him was a little girl. Tifa couldn’t help smiling at the sight of her. The little girl struggled to climb into her chair. It didn’t look safe. The man, whom Tifa took to be her father, noticed the child, gathered her in his arms and hoisted her safely into her seat.

“They’re father and daughter. Barret and Marlene Wallace. Marlene says she’s ‘two yearth old’.”

“You asked her?”

“Well, I’m an old, meddlesome lady. You think I’d just stand around and not say a word? Oh, by the way, they’re both homeless. Come on. Go and take their orders.”

Their orders were, sure enough, one cup of coffee and a glass of juice. When she finished preparing the drinks and brought them over, Marlene told her “thank you” in a lovely, sweet voice. Tifa nodded slightly towards her. Barret, on the other hand, only slid his sunglasses up and glared at people.

An hour passed since then.

“We’re not getting any customers.”

Only two parties came, drank their coffee and hurriedly left. Last week’s crowd felt like a dream.

“In my estimation, there were at least five customers who were about to walk up the stairs. They were probably all after you though."

The time kept on ticking. Another hour and they would have to close shop.

“Marle, I don’t want to be like this, but it’s so hard not to be upset.”

“You’re talking about Barret, aren’t you? He keeps on scowling at people walking by. No wonder we’re losing customers.”

“There’s that, too. But I’m talking about that little girl—about Marlene. I feel sorry for her. If you go up close, you’ll see how dirty her clothes are! Don’t you feel bad for her?”

“Oh that…”

“Can’t we do something to help her…?”

“Tifa, you’re talking to a veteran at meddling. Can’t even count the number of times I’ve gotten myself into trouble by sticking my nose into other people’s business. So here’s a warning for you. Before you start interfering, decide ahead of time what your boundaries are first.”

“Boundaries...?”

“Take this drink over to that little girl. Tell her it’s on the house. That’s as far as I’m getting involved when it comes to those two. Smells like trouble to me.”

She started preparing the glass of juice with feelings of uncertainty in her heart. Boundaries. How far would she be willing to go to help the child? If she wasn’t going to help her all the way, then wouldn’t it be better to leave things alone? She placed a straw into the drink and carried it out onto the terrace.

“Tell them it’s almost time for us to close,” said Marle.

Two chairs were lined up together with Marlene curled up into a ball sound asleep on top. What a poor yet lovely little girl! She looked so small and tiny. Barret Wallace then leaned his entire body over the table and scowled out at the road, and it was at the moment she realized he was missing his right hand. His arm ended at the wrist and a dirty cloth was draped over it—the cloth fastened to his arm with a leather strap that was wound round and round over it.

Tifa became terrified. Mishaps. War. Violence. Blood splattering.

Barret noticed and looked at her. He removed his sunglasses revealing a pair of large eyes with surprisingly long lashes. Despite the atmosphere that radiated from his entire body, his eyes were charming. Alright. She would look only at his eyes while talking to him.

“This is for Marlene. It’s on the house.” She placed the glass down near Marlene, trying not to wake her. “Oh, and also I’m really sorry but we’ll be closing at 5 pm today.”

“You’re kidding?” Barret, taken by surprise, stared at her with a bewildered look on his face.

“No, I’m not kidding. Actually, due to circumstances, we won’t be serving any alcohol, so we’re taking a break from our nighttime business.”

“You’re kidding…”

“No, I’m not. I’m really sorry.”

“I heard you!” The man backed down easily, but the way he talked to her was rude. It bothered her. She wanted to tell him off but suppressed the thought and left the table. When she put her hand on the door leading into the bar, her leather bracelet—a gift from Master Zangan on the last birthday she celebrated in Nibelheim—came into view. Emotions were to be controlled. She was supposed to look at it whenever she felt overwhelmed by her emotions.

Tifa wondered if she managed to keep her emotions in check earlier. However, could it be just an excuse for her not to do anything? Perhaps her archenemy wasn’t just that strong anger that made her forget reason but also her tendency to avoid trouble by taking only temporary measures or feigning sympathy. Ever since she was a child, she was easily influenced. Perhaps that was the reason why she had so many unwanted memories?

“I won’t lose,” she muttered to herself, and then returned to Barret’s table once more.

“What do you want? Still got an hour left, don’t I?”

“Yes, you do. But when time is up, where will you go? Where do you plan on taking Marlene?”

“…….”

“Where do you sleep everyday?”

“Different places.”

“Oh really? And do you have a change of clothes? She’s not wearing any socks. Does she even have any? And her shoes have holes in them.”

“You see plenty like us around the slums, don’t you?”

“Not to this point.”

“Well, at least we ain’t dead.”

Tifa slammed her hands on the table, giving even Barret a jolt.

“So it’s okay as long as you’re not dead? You need to do better than that! Get her washed up and put on some clean clothes for her. Doesn’t matter if they’re hand-me-downs.”

“Daddy…” The noise must have woken up Marlene. “Daddy, is she yelling at you?”

“No, uhh, yeah—Uh, no.”

“Please don’t be mad at Daddy.”

Marlene glanced up at Tifa with an expression full of sadness.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” Tifa turned to Marlene and smiled.

Marlene shook her head from side to side and said, “Don’t yell.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Thanks.” As she inclined her head, little flakes of dandruff fell from it. Tifa caught a whiff of her unwashed body odor. She couldn’t take it anymore and glared at Barret.

“After we close up shop, you’re both coming with me to Sector 8.”

“Huh?”

Marlene watched her with trepidation. Tifa turned toward Barret and lowered her voice. “When you’re here, you scare away all the customers.”

Barret, still dumbfounded, said, “Sorry about that. I mean it.”

“Please don’t yell at Daddy,” Marlene pleaded once more.

What kind of life had these two been leading up until now?

When she explained the situation to Marle, the woman gave her an expression that conveyed complete exasperation, and said, “I thought I warned you.”

“Yes. And I heard every single word.”

“Good grief! You’re worse than I am! Wait for me. I’ll be back in time to close up shop.”

She hadn’t been tending the shop for more than an hour before Marle returned, appearing on the terrace and calling out to Barret. The large man removed his sunglasses as he listened to Marle speak, and kept repeatedly thanking her. What was happening? Not long after, Marle led Barret and Marlene inside the bar.

“Monty’s room is in the basement. It’s a livable space. We’ll have Barret and his daughter use it. I’ve already gone to ask for his permission.”

“Who’s this Monty you all keep talking about?” asked Barret.

“He was working at the counter last week—The white-haired man.”

“That old fart?”

“Don’t be rude. He happens to own this place.” Barret ducked his head at Marle’s words. It was amusing watching every single one of his exaggerated movements. He might be a bit rough around the edges and inconsiderate as well, but he didn’t seem like a bad guy. “Monty’s been worried about Marlene since you first showed up.”

“Should go and shake his hand.”

Marle drew close to the corner wall, checked down at her feet, and then jumped lightly with thud! Then the floor, partitioned into squares, began to sink. It was an elevator.

“Wow!” cried Marlene, rushing over. Barret shouted for her to be careful, but panicking, gathered her into his arms.

“You guys should come too!” Marle's clear voice called from below. The floor partition rose back up again. Barret turned to Tifa. She nodded at him, and then went to stand on top of the elevator floor. Barret, with Marlene in his arms, lined up beside her.

“Daddy, are you gonna make it go BOOM?”

“Yeah.” Barret jumped up and stomped on the floor, and once the floor fell, the three of them descended. A section of the original floor passed in front of them, and they could see the basement. There was a comfortable looking room with a soft bed, an expensive looking sofa table, and two chairs. There was also a TV. It looked like a good place for two people to live.

“Monty wanted a secret base. Just like a little kid. He spent way too much money on all these contraptions and whatnot. Says he wants to put a pinball machine up there. We’ll see about that! Well then. Make yourselves at home.”

“Where’s Monty? I need answers from him to make sense of all this.”

“Well, I don’t know about getting answers, but it’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Alright you two. Get moving. Time for you both to shower. You’re stinking up the whole place. Oh, and here. Some clothes for Marlene to change into. It’s a complete set from top to bottom. From the looks of it, she’s not wearing diapers anymore, is she?”

“Nope!” Marlene bragged.

Tifa wanted to throw her arms around her and hug her. This new feeling that arose within her startled her—Was this what people called maternal instincts?

“Alright then… Tifa? Leave the rest to me and you can just—Oh! Almost forgot! Let’s go back upstairs for a bit.”

The two of them stood on the elevator.

“You have to jump on it!” said Marlene.

Marle narrowed her eyes, and then stomped on the floor. Tifa thought about what kind of person Monty was for making such a contraption. What sort of life had this white-haired grandfatherly gentleman been leading up until now?

“I’d like to go and greet Monty, and maybe see how he’s doing.”

“Now’s not a good time. You can go after things have quieted down a bit.”

“I see…”

“Come on. It’s okay! I’ll look after him. Goodness gracious! We’re hopelessly linked together. Anyway, enough about that. Don’t you think Barret would make a great bodyguard with those fierce looks? We need lots of help with the physical work at the bar too.”

Tifa burst out laughing. Wasn’t that basically a bottomless act of kindness? Wasn’t Marle the one against the idea when Tifa brought it up to her that she was going to take them with her to Container Alley in Sector 8? When Tifa pointed that out to her, Marle shrugged it off.

“I hate losing, that’s all. Even when it comes to meddling, I can’t let myself lose to you, missy.”

As they arrived at the terrace, Marle, careful of their surroundings, said, “I received a message from Jessie. She said to tell you, “I'm going to see you on my day off the week after next. Wait for my call.”

The week after next! It was more good news than she had expected.

“How about that then?” Marle boasted.

“Thank you so much!”

“But aside from that, I can still count on you next week, right?”

“Of course,” she said, and then left the Seventh Heaven. Turning back several times to look, she noticed some customers visibly disappointed that the bar was closed. Did they come there for her? Tifa regretted not being able to greet them with a smile.

The idea occurred to her that perhaps it would be good for her to learn how to make cocktails. If she could learn, they could reopen the business at night and not have to wait until Monty had recovered. It was a fascinating idea. But before that, she should think about developing the lunch menu first. Ideas, no, dreams popped into her head one after another.

"Welcome back." Rakesh greeted her in the passageway. He had been waiting for her where Gatekeeper used to always sit.

"I'm back."

"Where did you go?" he began to ask, but cut himself off and shook his head from side to side. "Sorry! Sorry! You see, these kinda questions just come out naturally.”

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm working as the security guard until we can find a replacement."

"Oh, really? Must be hard on you."

"Yeah, maybe. But you do what you gotta do."

"That's true. Well, good night."

Tifa, fearing that Rakesh would bring up again that they couldn't escape from Manson, got away from him. She unlocked her container, went inside, and turned on the lights. Wow, what a life of misery! She felt like the few good things that happened today all got wiped out the moment she returned to the container.

She retrieved the knapsack hidden at the bottom of her clothes bin and began to count what was inside. But it wasn’t necessary for her to count to know how much money she had. There was enough to finish paying off her debt a year sooner. In other words, just two more years. Just two more years and she would be released from Manson's rules. She suddenly felt energized. She rose up and began reviewing her kata.

It had been several years since she saw Zangan. She wondered where he could be. The flow of her kata had completely changed into the “Tifa-ryu”, into her own style. Was that okay? She wanted his guidance. Was he somewhere here in Midgar? Was he even looking for her? All he had to do was go to Damini's clinic and ask about her, and they’d be able to tell him where to find her. Rakesh could show him the way.

"Oh!" She had forgotten. When Marle was discharged, she had told Rakesh her whereabouts, didn't she? What did he do with that information? She left her container and returned to the main street in the alley.

“Rakesh.”

"Hm?"

"Did Marle ever give you her address?"

"Marle?" Was he trying to play dumb? "Ahh. You mean that old grandma who was hospitalized several years ago? I remember her. But, her address? Not a clue. She's really old. Maybe she's going senile. Lots of people like her think that they did something, but it turns out they didn't. Like I told you, she never told me anything like that—”

He was rambling. His conscience must have really bothered him.

"Have you seen Master Zangan?"

"No, I haven't."

"Since when?"

"Uhh... Let me think..."

Had this guy always been such a terrible liar? She was furious at herself for not having seen through his lies. She squeezed over her left hand with the leather bracelet. On second glance, she saw that the cord had turned completely black.

"It's been a really long time since we met."

"If you see Master Zangan, make sure to tell him about me. Tell him about this place, about the food stall, and where to find me. Let Dr. Damini know about this too."

"Yeah, of course."

His smile had returned. Perhaps because he thought that their difficult conversation was finally over.

The next Wednesday, there was sad news waiting for Tifa who had been so excited to see Marlene again. Monty had passed away. His condition became critical on Sunday night, and then by early Monday morning, he had taken his last breath. Barret and Marlene were able to speak to him on Sunday and thanked him for lending them the basement room.

"I was supposed to take you to go and see him next week. I'm so sorry for what I did," Marle apologized, clutching Tifa's hands. Then, without a hitch, she said, "Alright! I promised Monty this. We're going to work our butts off and make this place come alive once more!"

Marle, Barret, and even Marlene faced forward and started moving. Work was divided among them for the opening preparations. Barret mopped the floors with intensity. Little Marlene went around wiping down chairs with a rag. She wore a cute one piece dress with a large decorative ribbon tied around her waist, and her hair was brushed until it was nice and shiny.

"We're only staying open until 5 pm in the evening again. No alcohol. Afterward, I'd like to talk to both of you about something. Something Monty wanted me to discuss."

A decent number of guests showed up that day. Marle laughed, saying that it was a good thing Barret left right when they opened. It seemed to be part of his daily routine ever since he started living in the basement. He would leave Marlene with Marle and go out. Marlene would sit at a children’s stool at the counter and tend to the shop.

“Barret and Marlene came to Midgar a year ago when Marlene was still a baby,” said Marle, careful to speak so as to not let Marlene hear. “They wandered around from place to place studying Planetology. Whenever he heard there was a gathering or a screening, he would show up. That’s why he started camping out on the terrace, looking for a young woman he met at one of those screenings. Her name was…”—Marle lowered his voice.—”one you know pretty well. Jessie. Jessie Rasberry.”

Tifa nodded quietly.

“The rest is up to you. I’ll respect whatever decision you make. But that won’t stop me from giving my opinion.” Having said that, Marle left the counter to serve customers. Tifa was suddenly curious, so she peeked behind the counter, and her eyes met Marlene's. She puffed out her cheeks and crossed her eyes at Marlene. It was the kind of funny face her mother was so good at making for her. What on earth was going on with her? Marlene burst into peals of laughter.

After the shop was closed and when it was time to clear things away, Barret returned. Today either, he couldn't find the woman named Jessie whom he was looking for.

“Come on, Marlene!” called out Marle. "Want to go and watch some tv downstairs? Stamp the Loyal Dog is about to start.”

“Stamp?” Marlene turned to look at Barret.

“Go on! Go and see!”

With a good-natured "okay", Marlene went to the movable part of the floor. She shouted out, “Boom!” and jumped into the air. The moment she landed, the floor began to drop. Marlene waved goodbye at them as she descended down below.

“Now then. Tifa, you first. This one is simple. It’s a souvenir for you from Monty,” said Marle, leaving a memo book on the countertop. “It contains his life’s work—His cocktail recipes. He told me to give this to you.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest. This felt like destiny. Calling it “destiny” would not be an overstatement. The memo book was the same size as the secret manuals that Zangan had given her. Even the color of the paper was the same.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to have this?”

“As long as it's not too heavy.”

“I’ll hold on tight.”

Tifa took the notes and flipped through them. It was covered with Monty’s meticulous handwriting and drawings.

“Whoa, incredible! If you learn how to make them and open the bar at night, business will be booming! I can work as a bodyguard. See any pesky drunks, and I’ll catch them by the neck and toss them straight out!”

“That might actually be fun. It would be nice if we could really make it happen,” said Tifa.

“Thought so!” Barret seemed proud.

Marle, however, dropped her gaze.

“What’s the matter?” asked Tifa.

“If we don’t have 200,000 gil ready by the end of this month, the bar will change hands. Monty said that he hadn't been able to pay the carpenter—the man who’s also the boss who named this bar the Seventh Heaven. The boss extended the due date, but it seems he's already run out of patience.”

“200,000 for this place? That's dirt cheap!”

“That’s just the money due now. The rest we pay daily.”

“Oh, makes sense. Hold up! We don’t have any money! Doubt we even have 10 gil between us.”

“Monty had 40,000 saved up, so we need 160,000. If we don’t have it ready, the bar will be sold. It’s a nice location, you see. There’s plenty of buyers ready to snatch it right up.”

“Tch! Bet that’s gonna make Marlene sad,” said Barret. He sounded so casual about it.

“Don’t tell me you plan on sleeping outdoors again?!” exclaimed Marle.

“Hey, we’ve got good quality sleeping bags.”

“Unbelievable!” cried Tifa.

Sensing blame from her, Barret snorted in annoyance.

“I want Marlene to have good memories too. Wear her pretty little dresses, have her hair tied up, get to shower everyday, and sleep in a nice comfortable bed every night. But I don’t got money for all that! What do you want me to do? What I have instead is freedom. Just think. What’ll happen to you if you get yourself into debt? Money will tie you down and make you feel trapped. That’ll make your parents cry!”

Barret was only talking about a hypothetical situation but it came as a shock to her. No matter how much hope she had in herself, anyone else looking at the situation she found herself living in would think that she was making her parents sad.

“Well, my parents are no longer here.”

That was the one thing she could object to.

“Huh? Did I hit a nerve? Buried in debt at your age or something? Well, sorry about what I said. But even if they’re dead, you still have your parents. They’re one with the planet, and you’re connected to the planet. And through that connection, you’ll always be with them, whether they’re dead or alive.”

“When they die, they return to nothing,” Marle interrupted. “There are no more regrets. They’ll continue living on in someone’s heart. Isn’t that good enough? If you’re gonna start lecturing on Planetology, you’d better go elsewhere.”

“Hmph!”

“Well, then, I guess we've come to a conclusion. I'm sorry, but this place is closing at the end of the month.”

“Alright! Let’s give it all we’ve got till the end.”

Why were they getting over it so easily? That frustrated Tifa. Was it all right to make such a quick decision on such an important matter?

“Are we gonna lose our house?” asked Marlene. They didn’t know how long she’d been upstairs. “Are we gonna lose the store?”

She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“Weren’t you watching tv?” asked Barret.

Marlene tilted her head to the side. “Are we gonna lose our house and have to sleep outside again?”

“Don’t you worry. Daddy will make sure you’re okay. I’ll find us another house.”

“But I like it here.”

Barret drew close and reached over to hug her, but she slipped through his hands and hid behind Tifa.

“I wanna stay here!” she said before crying out in a heartbreaking wail.

“I have the money—160,000 gil,” Tifa blurted out.

Marle and Barret turned to her in surprise. Was that okay? Was that the right thing to do?

When it was time for her to head home, Barret asked to walk her to the border of the slums. When she refused, he said he needed to talk to her. Marlene was left in Marle’s care, and the two of them exited the Seventh Heaven.

“I'll pay you back. One day, I promise. Even if it means making my parents cry.”

“No. I want to work at the bar. I want to make cocktails using Monty's recipes and have lots of customers. I think it’ll be fun. It’s true I felt sorry for Marlene, but she was only the catalyst. The truth is, it's for me. So forget about the money. If you really want to pay me back, you can buy a pinball machine for the bar.”

“Alright.”

The more they talked, the more she felt relieved. Yes. Yes, that’s what this was all about. For my future, for me to survive here, the bar will be my secret base.

“By the way, I heard you know Jessie Rasberry?”

She turned to Barret in surprise. “Did Marle tell you?”

“Nah. Heard it from Marlene. She knows I’ve been looking all over for Jessie.”

Oh yeah. It had to be that one time. When Marle was telling her about what Barret was up to, Marlene had been there.

“Can you help us meet up?”

“Why do you want to see her? If you want to join a Planetology study group, I can introduce you to someone else I know. Some are among our customers.”

“The Planetology stuff’s just a front. The real plan is to get into Avalanche. I’ve heard that Avalanche often blends into Planetology study groups, so whenever I caught wind of one of these study groups, I’d join. Out of all of them, the only one I knew for sure was Avalanche was Jessie. ‘Course I’ve tried searching for others besides her, but Shinra’s been clamping down on them. They’ve all gone into hiding.”

“Guess it’s connected to the incident at the Corel Mako Reactor.”

“Me and Marlene—we’re from Corel.”

She looked at Barret, surprised.

“They took our families and our homes from us. Everyone says it was Avalanche’s doing but I know it’s all Shinra. I’m gonna blow ‘em up into a million little pieces! Talking about the mako reactors—Got that?”

As they walked on, he pointed towards a reactor.

"If we don’t do something to stop them, they’ll destroy the planet. Those reactors are draining the lifeblood from it. I never really paid attention until I started studying Planetology. But, no matter how you look at it, you just can't go off and fight Shinra on your own. You need people on your side. We can do anything. Not alone. But we can if we work together. Ain't that the truth?”

Jessie had told her something similar inside the container. She broke into a smile.

“Come on, Tifa. I’m begging you. I think this is the kinda 'connection' Marle’s always talking about.”

“Could be. But it’s not my decision to make. I need to ask Jessie first.”

“Yeah. I owe you one!”

She promised Barret she would talk to Jessie about him when they meet up next week, and the two of them parted ways.

A week would pass by without incident. At least that’s what she thought.  It happened on Tuesday evening. The Sector 8 Steamed Buns were selling well. After they wrapped up business and she had drawn the food cart back to base, Uncle said, "Hey, Tifa. You still hanging around with Avalanche?"

"Huh?”

Did she ever tell him about that? She remembered he had given her a warning about it, but...

"Not anymore. They went away somewhere."

"That's good." He was unusually expressive. She wondered if something had happened.

"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"

"At 10 o'clock tomorrow night, Avalanche will be holding a meeting. Shinra plans on attacking them right then and there. They're preparing helicopters and special forces up top.”

"They are?"

"You're the best partner a man could ever have. I don’t ever wanna see you looking down. If you have friends there, I think you should let them know."

"Thank you. But I’m okay."

"Yeah. Alright then. I'll see you after the break. Let's  challenge ourselves to 1,500!"

For some time now, she had been feeling a sense of guilt, as if she was betraying Uncle.

"Um, I—" Tifa stopped in her tracks. "After I finish paying Manson, I'm going to quit."

Uncle hooted in surprise. "So you've got enough to pay him back?"

"I still have a ways to go, but I want you to know now."

"Then let's aim for 2,000. You'll be able to pay him back sooner that way, right?"

Rakesh was there on the road in Container Alley.

"Welcome home."

"Thanks."

She tried to walk past while avoiding his gaze.

"Hey, Tifa. You have tomorrow off, right? It's been a while. Mind visiting the clinic?"

"Sorry. I have plans tomorrow."

"Ah, well never mind. Another time," said Rakesh, backing away.

After she had walked a short distance toward her container, she changed her mind and turned around.

“I'll stay here and work until I pay everything back. You don't need to worry.”

She would use all of her savings towards the Seventh Heaven. That was why she needed to double her efforts to pay back her loan. That was the right thing to do. She was positive.

“Now then!”

Tifa returned to her container and agonized over her thoughts. She needed some way to inform Jessie that Shinra was planning on attacking during the Avalanche meeting. There was a possibility Jessie was already aware. Besides, there was no telling if she would even participate in that meeting. But Tifa couldn’t just leave it alone like that. There had to be some way of getting the message across to her.

“Oh!” She had a sudden flash of inspiration. It was worth a try. Walking out of the container, she ran over to Shower Guard.

"Good evening."

"Hi there, Tifa. Here to shower?"

"But first, please listen to me," Tifa whispered. "At 10 o' clock tomorrow, Avalanche will be holding their  meeting. That info got leaked to Shinra Company. I need to get this information out to the people at Avalanche.”

“Why are you telling me? The only ones saying my son’s with Avalanche are the people at Shinra. Well, even if it’s true, I haven’t seen him in ten years. I have no way of knowing.”

“Right…”

“But still, where’d you get your hands on such dangerous information?”

“From someone I work with. People call him ‘Uncle.’”

She wondered if it was alright to talk to her about it. Did Shower Guard, by any chance, know who Uncle was?

“Hmm. Well, I won’t say I don’t know him, but I can’t help you.”

On that note, she stopped talking altogether.

"I'm sorry for bringing up something strange like this."

There was no response.

Maybe she could ask Marle to pass on the message again. Even though each time it took a long time to reach them, perhaps that was her best option. What if she headed over to Sector 7 now? It was late at night, but she’d have to be at the bar in the morning anyway. She could probably stay there overnight. As she was getting ready, she heard someone knock at her door.

“No need to open.” It was Shower Guard’s voice. “After we talked, I remembered my son's contact info. I tried calling that number and the call went through. I gave him the information you gave me. He said thank you, and he’s going to tell all his friends.”

“Thanks.”

“There’s one more thing. A message from the other side. ‘Tomorrow, Wednesday night at 9 o’clock, at the movie theater on your birthday.’”

“Huh?”

She sensed Shower Guard leaving. She didn’t know what the message meant. But then it hit her. It had to be Jessie. The movie theater on her birthday must be the empty house where she had celebrated her 17th birthday.

She went in for her shower early the next morning. Even though she and Shower Guard saw each other, the woman acted as if nothing had happened. Maybe that was her way of doing things. There was so much she wanted to ask her. Like how fast it took to communicate. Apart from her son, did she also get in touch with Jessie? She said she remembered her son's contact info, but the line of communication in the Slums was supposedly worse than in Nibelheim. She wondered if there was some method they knew of that she didn’t.

As Tifa left her container to go to Sector 7, she turned back just before leaving the alleyway to look at a group of containers lined up. She had been trying not to think about it, but wondered what kind of people lived there. It was funny to imagine Jessie secretly living in one of those containers. That seemed so unlikely.

The interior of the Seventh Heaven was bustling with activity, even though the shop was still preparing to open. Marlene was running around wiping down the chairs.

“Last three or four days, Marlene’s been getting popular. Business is booming. We can do just fine without serving alcohol!” said Barret.

“What nonsense. We still have a ways to go. Now, Tifa. About the payment we owe to the boss. Next Wednesday at seven o’ clock in the evening, do you mind handing it over to him here? I’ll have him come over.”

“Alright. I understand.”

“But how are you going to carry all that money?”

“Oh...” She hadn’t thought about that. There were a lot of bills, but also coins too.

“I’ll help you,” said Barret. “We can close up shop and move the money during the day.”

“We can still keep the business running without you. Leave the restaurant to Marlene and I. You two go and get the money.”

“Roger that!” answered Barret cheerfully.

“Alright then. Let’s work hard today, shall we?”

The bar and restaurant was thriving. As Barret had boasted, Marlene’s presence was a huge factor. The number of customers with their families was increasing. It seemed to have been recognized as a place where people with children could enjoy.

As the evening wore on and the last of the guests were leaving, Marle approached her.

“You’re meeting Jessie tonight, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t forget she’s with Avalanche. Just because Jessie’s a good person, doesn’t automatically mean her friends are good people. No, maybe they are, but people who preach about justice scare me. A lot of those guys think that as long as they're waving the flag of justice, they can do whatever they want.”

“Okay.”

“Now get out of here. Whenever I see your face I can’t stop lecturing.”

“Sorry for worrying you.”

“You should be sorry!”

Marle seemed like she still had something she wanted to say, but Tifa left Seventh Heaven after promising to pay her next week. The meeting place with Jessie was on the Sector 8 side of the border between the Sector 8 and Sector 7 slums.

The house sat on a vacant lot bordered by the outer wall. When she had lost touch with Jessie, she went there several times by herself on her way home from work. The vacant lot was used as a scrap yard. She had never been in any danger but still felt nervous.

Nights in the slums were artificial, but nights on the outskirts felt closer to what was real. It was a different kind of horror being able to tell the difference. As she approached the periphery, the smell of the air changed. The night air smelled real.

“Tifa.”

She nearly jumped from fright from being suddenly called out, but when she turned around she was met with a face she had longed to see.

“Jessie!”

Jessie had on a jacket with a hood and jogging pants. She sprinted over to Tifa with light footsteps over piles of scraps.

“Tifa, it’s not safe here. Get away—?!”

For a moment, she had no idea what had happened. There was a crackling sound, and then sparks flew everywhere.

“We’re being shot at. Let’s run in a zig zag and head back to the slums.” Jessie took her by the hand and they started running.

She heard the same sound again. More gunshots. Something grazed her cheek.

“Ow!” She touched the area and felt blood on her fingertips. The blood rushed in her ears.

“Over there!”

But there was no time to spare even a look in any direction.

“Take me with you!”

“OK!”

The sound of gunfire started again. The bullets plunged into the ground, hitting scraps and scattering sparks, before bouncing away. Disorderly sounds. Weapons flying out. She was scared. She felt like throwing up.

"Careless."

“Huh?”

“Open your eyes. Look around you.”

She hadn’t even realized her eyes were shut. The two girls hid behind the wreckage of a large, unidentified machine—a construction vehicle,  perhaps—and held their breaths.

“I think there are three guys shooting at us with machine guns. They’re hiding somewhere. This place looks safe, but once we make our escape, we'll have to expose ourselves temporarily."

The sound of gunshots ceased. Perhaps their location hadn’t been discovered.

"Ugh! No way! I bet they're waiting for us to make a move."

"Who is shooting at us—And why?"

“Avalanche scheduled a joint meeting today. It was supposed to be held near the outer wall in Sector 8, but word got out that our location was leaked out to Shinra, so it got cancelled. And then, surprise! Shinra had some sketchy info about an Avalanche meeting at the perimeter of the slums. So, right now, those guys are hitting every suspicious spot near the outer wall. Hear that? Listen carefully.”

She heard the faraway echoes of gunshots and explosions. Helicopters were chopping through the skies above.

“The place where I called you out to is practically right at the outer wall, so I started panicking. Luckily I got there just in time! If we climb over, we’re dead meat! You’re probably wondering what the hell is going on. If this were a play, someone would come and save the heroine... But, I doubt that’ll happen in real life, huh? Tifa, are you carrying any weapons?”

“No. But I’ve trained in martial arts.”

“Cool! But I don’t suppose you’ll be able to fight those guys shooting at us from faraway.”

“No. Probably not. I don’ t know. I won’t know unless I try.”

“You've never even done this before? Oh no you don’t! It's so typical of you self-confident people to act reckless!”

Shots rang out. The bullets hit a piece of metal nearby, ricocheting with several bangs. Unlike before, the bullets rained without letup, the sounds changing from intermittent to continuous gunfire. The sound itself seemed to have the power to kill.

“Is this the routine where they approach while trying to intimidate us? I don’t wanna die! I can’t die! We’ll just have to surrender. We can look for a chance to escape after. Uh, a handkerchief. I need something white.”

As Tifa sat puzzled, there was a very loud burst that sounded like thunder. Then, silence. No, she could still hear shots ringing, but it seemed to be coming from a distance.  Or had her ears been damaged from the noisy gunfire?

“Hey! Tifa! You alright?”

The voice was familiar.

“Huh? What’s going on?” said Jessie. “Is this where the hero comes in to save the heroine who’s in trouble?”

“Tifa! You alive?” It was Barret calling for her.

“Yeah, I’m alive!” Her voice was different—She sounded weaker.

“Alright. There’s no one here. Get outta there—quick!”

Jessie went first and then Tifa followed, stepping out of the shadows of the rusty vehicle.

“Hey, Jessie. Long time no see.” Barret was standing about ten meters away.

“What’s going on? Barret, what are you doing here?” asked Jessie.

“Just the person I wanted to see. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Creep!”

As she listened to their exchange, Tifa couldn’t take her eyes off Barret’s right arm. There was a gun—or some kind of weapon—attached to it, thicker than his arm. She could see a number of muzzles. Was there still heat in it? The muzzles appeared to have a slightly red glow.

“Barret, your arm…”

“You mean this? I usually take it off. Think of it as proof that I mean business.”

Three Shinra soldiers were lying on the ground at his feet. So were their large and heavy guns, which had been used, unmistakably, to spray bullets at them earlier.

“These bastards got a bit trigger-happy with you two. Kept on getting closer, and had their backs exposed. Now listen up, Tifa.”

“Huh?”

“If I didn’t kill them, they would have got you.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t tell Marlene.”

“I won’t.”

Gunshots were still ringing out in the distance. Helicopters were circling high and low in the air.

“Hey you two?” said Jessie. “Shouldn’t we be running away by now?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Tifa, we’re going to your place.”

“Why?”

“Marle told me to make sure you get home safe and sound. Jessie, you come too. We need to talk.”

On the way to the Container Alley, Barret told them the story of how he ended up in that vacant lot.

“Marle said she had a really bad feeling about it, so she ordered me—more like kicked me out—to follow Tifa out of the bar. Lost her once in that maze of scrap metal, but those Shinra idiots were shooting at you all like crazy, so I knew right away where you were.”

“You say it like you’re so proud of yourself.” Jessie glared at him. “But it was a pretty close call.”

“Well, it turned out alright in the end, didn’t it? Hah!”

Before long they entered the passageway. Rakesh, who was Acting Gatekeeper, stared at the three of them in surprise.

“They’re my friends.”

“Alright. Got it.”

Rakesh was overwhelmed by Barret. He took two obvious steps back. He looked so funny that she felt the tension—which had been building since they were at the vacant lot—melted away.

Exiting the passageway, they stood in front of her container.

“Welcome to my humble abode! Thanks for walking me home. Would you, by any chance, like to come inside?”

“Looks cramped in there. I mean, it’s not that I really wanna go in, but I need to talk to Jessie. We're gonna be talking about some dangerous stuff, so I appreciate you letting us borrow your room.”

“It's supposed to be our girl’s night out.”

“I'll make this quick.”

She unlocked the door and opened it, ushering Barret in first, then Jessie, and then squeezed herself in last.

“Wow, it’s really cramped in here with three people.”

Tifa couldn't help but laugh when she saw Barret looking uncomfortable.

“Damn, you need to move out. Nobody should be living like this!”

“I’m going through some stuff.”

"So, Barret, what did you need to talk about?"

"Yeah. About that." Barret plopped down on the floor and scratched his chin. "I'll say it plain and simple. Let me in Avalanche. You're my only hope. Take me to your leader. Elfe, right?"

Jessie sat down on the bed and, sure enough, began to stroke her own chin. Tifa leaned against the wall and listened in on their conversation.

“Hmm.” Jessie scratched her cheek, then at her side. “Simple for you, but not for me. But I’ll explain to you, so listen up.”

Barret leaned over.

“Something strange is going on with the mainstream Avalanche being led by Elfe. Their objectives aren’t clear. That’s why some have distanced themselves and formed their own independent Avalanche. But each group is so small—Groups of three, ten, maybe twenty at the most. Not enough to make even a blip on Shinra’s radar. That’s why we’re trying to get together. Take down Shinra, destroy the mako reactors, protect the Planet, gain autonomy for Midgar, and restore the Republic. See? We all have different goals. Tonight's meeting was supposed to bring us all together. But how could we get together, when it’s not possible for even just the three of us—me, Biggs, Wedge?”

“Huh?” Barret raised his eyebrows.

“I want to stop the reactors. Bomb them or something. Biggs hates Shinra anyway. He’ll do whatever it takes as long as it gives them some trouble. But there are a lot of ordinary citizens who’ll get caught up in our mess too. That’s why we’re still not ready yet. Wedge says he’ll follow me and Biggs. Our hearts are all in it, but we’re just going in circles. If someone were to ask me at the meeting, 'Okay, so what does the Sector 7 Slums Chapter—that's what we call ourselves—feel is your aim, and how are you going to achieve it?' I don't think I can answer that question.”

"The point is you need someone who can take charge and be a leader, not just for you but Avalanche as a whole."

“Yep. That’s exactly what I mean.”

“I’ll do it. Yeah, I’ll do it.”

“If you say so,” Jessie chuckled.

“You won’t know unless you make a move. What works, what doesn’t, or what kinda reaction you’re gonna get. You can fix problems as you keep on rolling. The worst thing you can do is to be too smart and overthink things. Let's get moving. Let me give you that push forward. Ride on my back. Who's in charge now? Jessie, is that you?”

“No. The Sector 7 Slums Chapter is ideologically equal. I love consensus decision-making.”

“That ain’t working out to great, is it? So why not try changing that? Right?”

“Hmm. Tifa, what do you think?”

“I think it’s better to have more people on your side. Besides, it’s good luck.”

“You can’t be serious?” Jessie was taken aback. “But, well, Barret does have that horsepower fueling his heart, doesn’t he? Barret, you have that drive—I mean, the ability to take a step forward. I think that's something we lack. Yeah. Things haven’t been working so far and that needs to change.”

※

“This was the beginning of our Avalanche. Biggs seemed to have a hard time with Barret at first, but he gradually got sucked into his pace too.”

“A takeover?”

“You could say that. Barret’s drive got the other groups involved and we grew bigger. But the more people there are, the more opinions going around, right? Barret couldn’t handle it and exploded. This happened several times, and each time, the Sector 7 Slums Chapter got smaller. The last time he went ballistic was the defection from HQ.”

“Surprised you stuck with him.”

“Because, you know, we had a connection. That connection led me to meet you too, Red.”

“Humph!” Red XIII dexterously scratched behind his ears with his back foot. “So, what happened to that guy?”

“Hmm? Him, who?”

“Rakesh. There's more to this story, isn't there? So what happened?”

※

Time flew by quickly, and it was Wednesday again. Early in the morning, Tifa finished her daily shower and waited for Barret to arrive. They were to carry 160,000 gil together. The money was a deposit to become the owner of Seventh Heaven, so to speak. The debt left by Monty would be repaid in monthly installments.

After consultation, it was decided that Barret would take Tifa's advice and operate the store. To distance herself from Avalanche, Marle stayed away from the bar. However, she was more than ready to put in a word or two, and sometimes even get involved in matters. Tifa couldn’t understand why Marle had to stay away, but she guessed she had her own logic and reasoning.

Tifa would continue to sell at the Sector 8 Steamed Buns to pay off her debts. Once that was over, she planned to work full-time at the Seventh Heaven. The goal was to join them in two years. Until then, she planned on learning to make cocktails little by little.

“Come on, let’s get moving,” Barret said as he came to escort her. “Hah! Know what’s funny? Last week’s gunfire caused damage to the Plate up top too, so they’re toning down on the Avalanche hunting. This will make it a little easier for us to operate... Hey, Tifa, what's the matter?”

She hadn't heard half of what Barret had said. The 160,000 gil was not in its usual place. The entire bag was missing!

“My money’s gone.”

“Huh?”

“I put it in a knapsack and hid it in here. It's gone!”

She flipped over her clothes bin. Her underwear spilled out, but she didn’t care.

“Nuna na na na.” Barret let out strange, garbled noises.

“Stop fooling around!”

“We’re talking 160,000 gil! Course I’d be sputtering! When was the last time you remember seeing the money?”

“Last night. It was pretty late.”

“So it's gone today—this morning? You were in your room the whole time, weren't you?”

“Yeah. Waiting for you to... Oh! The shower!”

Tifa rushed out of the container and hurried over to the shower room where Shower Guard was.

“Did anyone else come in while I was in the shower?”

“You’re asking me as if I can see your container from here… Oh, the gatekeeper came to take a shower. After he found out you were in there, he went right back out.”

Tifa thanked her and ran over to where the gatekeeper usually sat. Barret joined her along the way.

“I’ve searched your house. The money’s not there.”

“I think I know who did it.”

The two ran through the slums in the early morning in pursuit of Rakesh, the acting gatekeeper. Their destination: Dr. Damini Orange’s clinic and Rakesh’s home.

If they couldn’t find him there, they would go look for him at Manson’s base. They arrived, out of breath. A man’s angry voice could be heard from inside the clinic, and then a woman screamed. Tifa reached for the door. It was unlocked. Noises could be heard from inside again. The sound of violence, of machines breaking, and of shattering glass.

“Stop!” Damini cried out.

“I’ve got the money!” It was Rakesh’s voice.

Barret puts his thick forefinger to his lips. He probably wanted to see how things played out.

“Of course I'll take it. But you're a week late, aren’t you? If you're late, we'll have to make an example out of you, don’t we? Otherwise, you might think it’s okay to walk all over me.”

The voice was one she knew well. Tifa was both shocked and confused.

“No, we won’t think that! We know you’re a man to be feared!”

“So what have you been doing all week? Tell me.”

But she couldn’t hear Rakesh’s answer.

“I’ll tell you what. I heard that you took the money your mother saved up to bet on the chocobos again. Money you were supposed to pay me back. Whadduya take me for, huh?”

“I had solid insider tips that were definitely gonna pay off.”

She heard the sound of more things breaking.

“Please don’t break it. Please!” Damini pleaded. “Manson sir!”

“No way!” Tifa panicked and tried to cover her mouth, but it was too late.

“Who the hell’s there?”

A small elderly man emerged from the back.

“Tifa…”

Uncle stood there, wearing his usual red top and bottom.

“Uncle… You’re Manson?”

Uncle’s eyes swam in different directions, and his mouth flapped open and closed. He let out a deep sigh.

“Well, not much I can do. The truth’s out now. Every Wednesday, I work this job.”

“So you were the one who had me bound by the Manson Rule?”

“Wait a minute. I don't know nothin’ about that.”

“But Rakesh said…”

“Then take it up with him. He’s in the back blowing his nose.”

Tifa was about to go towards the back when Rakesh emerged with swollen eyelids. It looked like he had just wiped off a fresh nosebleed. “Manson sir. Please take this and go home for today. I know it’s not enough.”

Rakesh offered the knapsack to Uncle—to Manson.

“That's my money!”

“We’ll be taking that back!” said Barret, knocking the knapsack from Rakesh’s hand and pulling it towards him. “Secured!”

“Agh!” Rakesh moaned, as if it was his own money that was being stolen from him.

“I need an explanation, Rakesh. Or from you, Uncle.”

“Rakesh owes me a huge debt,” Uncle began to explain in an annoyed tone. “Debts he racked up from gambling. In order to repay the money, they were charging a premium for the treatment here and making the patients pay for it. So many victims. Of course the mother was in on it too.”

“How much did my treatment really cost?”

“A third of it. I’m really sorry,” answered Damini from the back.

Tifa felt suffocated hearing her words. What did she mean, a third of it? She clutched at the leather bracelet on her left wrist. The cord snapped, unraveled, and fell to the floor.

“I mentored you so you wouldn't have to go to Wall Market, no matter how hard times got. Don't you agree?” asked Rakesh.

“Tifa, let's go. Stick around them any longer and you’ll start to rot just like them,” Barret spat out.

“I understand. But before we go—” Tifa held both fists in front of her face. She took a nice deep breath, and then slowly exhaled. The Book of Secrets, Volume 5, Number 1-1-1. A right-handed punch struck Rakesh Orange square in the jaw. He spun around and fell against the wall of the infirmary. Damini rushed over to him and cradled his head. Tifa didn’t feel a shred of guilt or remorse at seeing him like that.

“Uncle.” When Tifa addressed him, Uncle scratched his head. “So you knew everything.”

“Yeah. But for me it was hard letting go of talent. I told you plenty of times, didn’t I? You’re the best partner a man could ever have. That’s why I got on board with Rakesh’s plans.”

“I loved working at the food stall. Even if I had a hard time, I could forget it if I concentrated on the steamed buns. It also taught me the joy of work. That's why it would have been better if you had hired me normally.”

Uncle exhaled regretfully.

“I've been with the underworld for too long.”

Tifa turned her attention to Damini. “I’m all paid up, right?”

“I’ll manage the rest. Thanks for everything you did. No, I’m sorry.”

“Tifa.” Rakesh wobbled to his feet. “The truth is, I loved you…”

The Book of Secrets, Vol. 5, No. 2-2-1. A kick to the side of the head.

※

“I felt better after that last kick… Thank you for your time and attention. Yes, this is the end of the story of me and my gullible days.”

“Oh. So you're not like that now?”

“I intend not to be.”

Red XIII stared at her. Tifa returned his gaze.

“How about Zangan?” He readily changed the subject.

“I don't know. I have no idea. But the next time I see him…”

“You still haven't taken your Menkyo Kaiden yet.”

“Nope. Next time, I’ll go up against him using the Tifa-ryu. I'm a little angry at Sensei.”

Red XIII cleared his throat. Was he laughing? The wind blew again. The meadow rippled.

“Let's go to the others.”

As she stood up, the wind came. Tifa started to walk towards the wind.

Novel by Kazushige Nojima

Translated by Peko

Proofread by my good friend & most amazing person ever for sticking with me on such a long project, Eerie. Thank you a million times thank you!

[thespamman24]

So, I know this is really long, but I worked very hard on it and I think that it might just be the best thing that I have ever written, so I would really appreciate if you read it, thanks.

I wish that I was a dog.

If I was a dog then I would sneak into my owners fridge and eat all of their bananas. All of them. I would keep doing it, over and over again. They would have to start keeping their bananas in secure places, but I would always find them. They could put the bananas in a locked safe and store it on the highest shelf, but somehow I would still manage to get those bananas into my big dog mouth. They would probably take me to the vet and ask the vet “Why does our dog keep on eating bananas?” but the vet would have no answer. The bananas didn’t seem to be making me ill, in fact I was more healthy than ever. Despite being a corgi, I had the strength of a rottweiler.

Eventually, they would just stop buying bananas. But that wouldn’t stop me. I would break into neighbors houses and steal their bananas. My hunger for bananas would consume my every thought, my every desire. I would grow and grow until I was twice the size of an English mastiff. Eventually, they would tie me to a stick like one of those naughty dogs but that wouldn’t stop me. I would still manage to break free, and then in a mad rage I would destroy the entirety of my owners furniture. 

My owners would have no choice but to take me to a pound. “It’s such a shame.” they would say “He used to be such a good boy, but then he just got really into bananas for some reason.” But no pound could be able to hold me. I would escape, and run all of the way back to my owners house. I would smash right through my owners door. My owners would scream as I snarled and raged and dashed across their house. Then I would plant myself in the middle of the living room and snarl. 

What could they do? They would rush off to the grocery store and grab as many bananas as they could. But that wouldn’t even be enough to satisfy me. They would have to start getting bananas in from the truckload. Spending thousands of dollars shipping in hundreds of bananas in, just to feed my appetite. I would get bigger and bigger, till I was 5 feet tall. “Surely, he’ll get sick of them. “ they’d say “either that, or he’ll die.” But I wouldn’t die, I would just consume and consume. Eventually, my owners money would start running dry. They would have to move out as my appetite grew. They would have to sell their house, which they worked so hard to afford to a woman named Patty so she could turn it into a thrift store. But I wouldn’t mind, all I wanted was bananas. Eventually, they couldn’t afford a home at all and they had to move to a large junkyard where they slept by snuggling me for warmth. It was in this junkyard that I would spend the entirety of my days, consuming more and more bananas. I would grow and grow till I was 8 feet tall. Then 10 feet. Then 20 feet.

Eventually, my owners would run out of money. “Please,” they would say “please buttons” (buttons would be my name of course) “We can’t get you any more bananas, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” but that would not sway me, and in a fit of rage I would swallow my owners whole. Then, I would leave my home city of San Francisco and make my way South, stopping at grocery stores to get my fill of bananas. I would sleep seldomly, with my only stops being to consume more bananas. I would run and run till I arrived in Costa Rica. 

Oh, what a sight that would be. A group of poor Costa Rican banana farmers toiling away, when suddenly from the horizon appears a 25 foot tall Corgi. “?Que Carajo?!” They would say “!El Perro Es Gigantesco!”

Then I would snarl and they would run away in fright and I would gourge myself on the bananas. I would gorge myself on all of the bananas that Costa Rica had to offer till I was 40 foot tall. I would indulge myself ina  feat of bananas never seen before and then eventually the government would hear of this and they would be enraged! They would send helicopters to shoot me down but I would bat them out of the sky. They would tanks and planes and all sorts of weapons of war but I would squanch them without hesitation. 

Eventually, the american banana companies would get worried, because their sales were dropping, so they would lobby for something to happen. They would obviously be successful, and then for the first time in history the united states government would declare war on a single dog. They would send the finest weapons that the world had to offer, all sorts of fighter jets and helicopters. They would send wave after wave after squandron of men and machines armed to the teeth. They would launch missiles and drop bombs and rain down everything they could on me save for a nuclear bomb. They would throw all of their military might at me, but they would fail. 

 At this point I would have become almost a hundred feet tall. I would tower over buildings and skyscrapers. People all over the world would begin to worship me as a god. The banana workers of Costa Rica who had slaved for so long began to see me as a savior, someone who had come down to rid themself of the oppressive yoke of the banana industry. But, I would be no savior, I would just be one big corgi that wanted bananas.

I would gorge myself on all of the bananas that Costa Rica had to offer, until there was no more. Then, I would move to Nicaragua, then to Honduras, then to Belize,then back to Nicaragua, then to El Salvador, then back to Costa Rica, then to Panama. I would scour my way through all of Latin America, devouring every bananas I saw till I was 150 feet tall and growing.

Eventually, the U.S. government would have no other option then to build a giant robotic mecha corgi.

This mecha corgi would be deployed, with some sort of trained pilot inside and me and this mecha would have the fight of the century- possible even the decade. We would pounce and fight and tear at each others throats- and then- we would lock eyes and something would take over me. Something that I hadn’t felt in a long time. My owners had previously neutered me but all of my banana eating had them grow back. Next you knew, the mecha would become pregnant with my son- a half corgi- half mecha corgi. A cycorg, if you will. 

But, I would not be around to see his birth, because I left my mecha girlfriend. I loved her, but I loved bananas more and so I left. I journeyed to Colombia and Venezuela and all throughout South America, always on the hunt for bananas, no amount of that sweet yellow fruit could ever quinch my eternal hunger.

The U.S. government would send more mechs after me, and I had some close encounters but, whenever things got to bad I would run. Eventually, things got so serious that I had to dog paddle my way to Africa. Thankfully, I managed to end up in Cote D’Iviore which was a country that the U.S. didn’t have any treaty or whatever with. I was safe. I gouged myself on bananas for many years sometimes I would think about that one true love I had, but my bananas kept me destracted. I didn’t even know that I had a son, or that he was growing up in a  secure facility in Nevada.

I grew and grew. At first, the government tried to stop me, but then they stopped. Eventually, they started to like me, they would bring me bananas and in return I increased tourism by 2,000%. In fact, I actually helped the economy of Cote D’Iviore. This allowed for many schools and hospitals to be buildt, massive reforms were passed in the government, infrastructure improved massively. Eventually, Cote D’Iviore became one of the most successful countries in the world and all it took was one giant dog. 

People would come from all over the world to see me, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was bananas. When I wasn’t eating bananas I was sleeping or killing people who were trying to kill me. Sometimes I would eat them, but people didn’t taste as good as bananas.

Cote D’Iviore started to run out of bananas so they had to ask Ghana and Cameroon for help in exchange for economy. This eventually lead to all three countries becoming one country, and this country became a prosperous nation. I quickly became the national animal of this nation. I was on the state flag and all of the coinage. Massive statues were buildt of me and the countries name was Terre De Chien Geant (land of the big dog). I payed no notion to this. After all, I was a dog and I didn’t even understand politics. All I understand was bananas. And now, the country was working very hard to get me as much bananas as I could eat because the tourism money was huge. I feasted on bananas until I became 400 feet tall. 

However, across the sea storm clouds were brewing. The United States government had no interest in killing me anymore. However, my Cycorg son was a rarity and of great interest to them. They figured that they could use him as a weapon to take on foreign threats. They got people to pilot him. I don’t know how it worked but the Cycorg needed a pilot.

Many years passed. Eventually, I grew till I was over a thousand feet tall. My Cycorg son did the same. 

My Cycorg son gets deployed on his first mission, destroying a military base in Libya. However, the U.S. government was foolish in thinking that they could control him. He turns away from the military base and instead goes in search of me. The pilot that is inside my Cycorg son is helpless to control him as he moves through Africa in search of me.

He eventually catches on the hiff of corgi and bananas and follows it through the Sahara desert till he arrives at the Northern tip of the country I live in. There he travels East, till he finds me. I’m laying in the field I usually am in when I hear the sound of extremely large paw prints and cock my giant corgi head. Then, I meet his gaze. He growls at me. I am the man who abandoned him. His worst enemy. He leaps forward and pounces on me.

Needless to say, I kick my dumb furry sons butt. I stand over him, my paw pressed on his metal exoskeleton. Then I sniff him and I realize who he is. And in that moment, I realize I was fighting my son! I have a son! I never even knew! But… I don’t care. All I care for is bananas. Why? I do not know. All I know is that I crave bananas, and I am a two thousand foot tall corgi so no one gets to challenge my authority.

I pick him up by the ear, and in a feat of corgi strength I carry him to the ocean and drop him in.

My son paddles away, ashamed.

 Then the Romulans show up. “Oh shit! It’s the Romulans!” Says everyone.Then the Romulans leave because the only reason why they were there was because they got their directions wrong. 

 Anyways, I go back to my usual resting place and my son, ashamed, dog paddles away. But, this feeling of shame quickly turns to anger and this anger quickly turns to rage. And so, when the U.S. helicopters show up to collect him he swats them down. My Cycorg son then goes berserk. He swims over till he reaches Florida. There, he goes ona  mad rampage.

First he arrives at Orlando, where he rips through the city. He reaches Disney World and Mickeys and Snow Whites turn to bloody pulp within his jaws. He journeys to Miami, and to Jacksonvill, and to Tampa Bay, and to Inglis. All fall before his wrath. Millions of people are slaughtered and billions of dollars are lost in property damage and thousands of cheese shops are destroyed. Mozzarella and blood lines the streets of multiple major metropolitan areas, and it’s all because of one kaiju cyborg corgi.

 The U.S. government throw everything they can at my Cycorg son, but they do not succeed. Eventually, they realize the only way to defeat him is me. But, how do they get me to come over to the U.S? First, they try a massive dog whistle. This does not work. Then, they figure it out.

I am chilling out in my field. When, suddenly in the sky I see the most beautiful sight that I have ever seen. A giant cat, made out of bananas. I leap up and run after it. Truly, this must be the most delicious thing ever created.

I dog paddle after it till I reach the coast of Florida, only to then realize that it was not real, but actually just one of those Macy's thanksgiving day parade floats. This enrages me immensely. I am about to go back to my home when suddenly I am tackled from behind. It is my Cycorg son! I don’t even have time to react before my Cycorg son chomps me directly in the paw. We tussle, and I could easily win but he has grown stronger and one of my paws is hurt. 

We fight and fight, our fight taking us out of Florida, to Georgia, and then to South Carolina. Eventually, after 78 days I stand over my son. I have won. But, right before I am about to make the killing blow, I hesitate. This is my son after all. And, in that moment of hesitation my furry son does a hecking chomp. I fall off a cliff and into the Atlantic. 

 I float through the Ocean, till I eventually reach the South pole. There, the water around me freezes and I am trapped in an iceberg, still alive.

 Meanwhile, my furry son has won. He howls victoriously. And then continues his rampage, going north. He knocks over the Empire State Building and shits on the Washington memorial. He humps the leg of the statue of liberty and pees on the white house. He demolishes the Sears tower and destroys Cleveland, Ohio. All fall before his wrath. All is helpless before my massive Cycorg son. Millions upon millions are killed. The U.S. lies in ruins. Meanwhile, I am literally chilling inside a block of ice.

My Cycorg son continues West, and some strange desire compels him to go to Los Angeles. He arrives there and moves towards Hollywood. There, right in front of the Hollywood sign. He digs. He digs and he digs till he reaches an underground chamber. There, in that chamber he finds Al Capone, the inventor of movies. 

Meanwhile, at this very moment I am being discovered by scientists. They find my body and put it on a plane. They then take my body and put in a giant truck. This truck is currently carrying me to a museum, which just happens to be in San Francisco, the place where this all started.

 My son finds the body of Al Capone, spread on a massive movie projector. He then picks him up in his jaws and bounds out of the chamber with Al Capone in tow. However, this ends up causing The Job Apocalypse, where people become abstract representations of their jobs. Lawyers turn into law books, doctors turn into medicine, and politicians turn into the flags of countries that they represent. And, the driver of the truck that I am on, turns into a truck. This leads to the truck I am on having a massive truck sticking out of the driver's seat, with one of it’s wheels on it’s pedal. This causes the truck to keep on moving forward, towards its destination of San Francisco, with me in tow.

But, my Cycorg son doesn’t have a job, so he is unaffected. He takes Al Capone's form and bounds up North. Eventually, he makes it to San Francisco, where he lays down Al Capone and lays down beside him. He then falls asleep, Al Capone right beside him.

Meanwhile, the truck I am in enters San Francisco from the East while my son sleeps soundly by the side of Al Capone.

Then, in the middle of the night comes Patty. Patty was there when it all began. She was the one my owners sold their house to, and thanks to that she turned the house into a thrift store. So, when The Job Apocalypse came she turned into a whole bunch of knick knacks in the shape of a human form. Patty makes her way towards my son and Al Capone. Then she sticks out what could be called an arm, and wacks Al Capone. But then, right as she does it she gets run over by the truck that is carrying me.

Or, in other words: knick knack Patty wacks EVA dog's Al Capone, his old man's come rolling home.

[notebooknebula]

Become A 7-Figure Real Estate Investor with Nick Perry and Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority

https://www.jayconner.com/become-a-7-figure-real-estate-investor-with-nick-perry-and-jay-conner-the-private-money-authority/

Freedom to go on different ventures, explore different areas of life, helping other real estate investors become financially free.

These are the things that Nick Perry wants to share with everyone as he talks with Jay Conner about how he started his real estate business until his company became one of the largest wholesaling companies in the US.

Nick is the Owner/Founder/Executive Chairman of Want To Sell Now. The largest nationwide wholesaling company in the United States is based out of Austin TX.

He also owns a fleet of semi-trucks multiple eCommerce businesses and invests in multiple companies and commercial real estate. He also owns the 7 Figure Cartel mastermind that gets people quickly through the hurdles to become multiple 7 figure real estate investors.

He grew up in Northern Virginia and spent the first 5 years of my career in Personal Training before moving to Austin TX where he now resides. Nick moved to Austin with no job, network, and very little money. Soon as he got to Austin, he decided he would do whatever it took to be successful in real estate in pursuit of new opportunities.

He didn’t come easy. It took him 11 months to get his first deal but he did not give up. Nick worked 18 hours a day 7 days a week. He got a six-figure sales job at Indeed.com while he was building my real estate business. Nick devoted all of his sales commissions and time outside of my 9-5 to building my real estate business until he was able to go full-time. As soon as he went full-time, he quickly scaled his real estate company to where it is now in less than 3 years. He now has 8 streams of income and is working on creating more.

Timestamps:

0:01 – Get Ready To Be Plugged Into The Money

1:02 – Jay’s New Book: “Where To Get The Money Now” –https://www.JayConner.com/Book

1:59 – Today’s guest: Nick Perry

4:45 – Nick Perry talks about how he got started in the real estate business.

5:47 – What is your definition of freedom?

6:25 – When did you start your real estate business?

6:47 – Nick talks about some of his early struggles.

8:40 – As the owner of one of the largest wholesaling companies in the USA, Perry talks about what his company looks like and the number of deals they are making now.

10:04 – Nick Perry talks about what wholesaling is all about.

11:32 – Nick explains what is a Novation deal.

12:28 – What makes your company/organization different?

14:00 – How do you run your real estate business remotely?

16:10 – Nick talks about how he manages the rehab or repairs of a property.

17:51 – Tips on building buyers lists.

19:40 – Do you agree that it’s more challenging to find real estate deals now than a couple of years ago?

22:18 – How much money do you spend in marketing to get a contract?

23:21 – What tools in your real estate business that you can’t live without?

24:19 – What is the most important lesson that you learned from real estate investing?

26:42 – Nick Perry talks about his passion for helping other real estate investors.

28:18 – Connect with Nick Perry: https://www.7FigureCartel.com

Private Money Academy Conference:

https://jaysliveevent.com/live/?oprid=&ref=42135

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Jay Conner is a proven real estate investment leader. Without using his own money or credit, Jay maximizes creative methods to buy and sell properties with profits averaging $64,000 per deal.

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Become A 7-Figure Real Estate Investor with Nick Perry and Jay Conner

Jay Conner (02:10):

I don’t know about the rest of you, but today he’s down in Miami, on the beach. Anyway, this company is the largest nationwide wholesaling company in the United States, and it is based out of Austin, Texas. Now my guest also owns a fleet of semi-trucks, multiple e-commerce businesses, and he also invests in multiple companies and commercial real estate. Now he also owns this mastermind, the 7-Figure Cartel Mastermind. I can’t wait to hear about that. And that gets people quickly through the hurdles to become and enjoy a multiple 7-figure real estate investing company. Now he grew up in Northern Virginia, spent the first five years of his career in personal training before moving to Austin, Texas, where he now lives and moved to Austin with no job network, very little money. And as soon as he got to Austin in pursuit of new opportunities, he decided he was going to do whatever it took to be a successful real estate investor.

Jay Conner (03:12):

Well, it did not come to him easy and as it does for most of us. It took him 11 months before he got his first deal and he didn’t give up. He worked 18 hours a day, 7 days a week, got a 6-figure sales job at Indeed.com, while at the same time, he was building his real estate investing business. He devoted all of his sales commissions and time outside of the 9 to 5 to building his real estate business until he was able to go full time. So as soon as he went full time, he quickly scaled his real estate company to where it is now and did all that in less than 3 years. And today he has 8 different streams of income and is working on creating more. With that, let me welcome to the show here, my friend, Nick Perry. Hello, Nick. Welcome to the show.

Nick Perry (04:04):

Jay, what an intro man. That was incredible, but I’m honored and excited to be with you guys right now. So looking forward to learning it from you and, hopefully, being able to give it a lot of value to the audience as well.

Jay Conner (04:15):

Absolutely. Nick. So it looks like you’re relaxing down there in Miami.

Nick Perry (04:22):

I am. I actually just moved into a new house here in Miami Beach. So I’m getting my office set up, the interior designer’s coming back and forth. So I’m hanging out on the couch, working from the couch today.

Jay Conner (04:33):

Awesome. Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. Well, I appreciate you taking time out to join me and the audience here on the show. So are you ready? You got your seatbelt on?

Nick Perry (04:43):

Let’s go.

Jay Conner (04:45):

All right. What got you into real estate?

Nick Perry (04:49):

My entire life, coming from a kind of middle-class family, everybody that I surrounded myself with was your W-2 employees. They work 9 to 5, just like the majority of the world. And when I was a personal trainer, most of my clients were really, really well off. They were business owners, they were in sales. And those were the guys that were taking nice vacations, they were driving fancy cars, they had freedom and all the things that I wanted in life. And so rather than going with the flock to continue on a 9 to 5 path, I realized that in order to be financially free, I better go out and build a company or get into some high-ticket sales because that’s what everybody who actually had money was doing. So I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but real estate ended up turning out to be that vehicle. And it’s been incredible, as you know, it’s the best decision I ever made in my life.

Jay Conner (05:47):

So you mentioned the word “freedom.” What’s your definition of freedom?

Nick Perry (05:50):

Well, I mean, I’m sitting here right now in Miami Beach. I live two blocks from the ocean. I’ve got the freedom to be able to go where I want when I want, be with the family when I want, so yeah. If I was working at a 9 to 5 job, you just can’t do that kind of thing. So that is also freedom just to be able to go into new ventures and explore different areas of life. That’s really what it’s all about for me. So yeah, I’ve been able to create that for myself and it’s been a heck of a ride.

Jay Conner (06:26):

So, what year did you start?

Nick Perry (06:29):

I landed in Austin, Texas, like you said, without really anything. I had like $5,000 in my name and I just started learning and taking action and I just didn’t give up. And now here we are 7 years later.

Jay Conner (06:45):

Yeah. So what were some of your early struggles?

Nick Perry (06:51):

Early struggles? Obviously, everybody’s got a learning curve, but in 2014, I was doing a lot of direct mail. I wasn’t getting a lot of results either. I would handwrite the cards myself because I didn’t have enough money to pay for a fulfillment house. And I had to get good at sales, too. When I moved down to Austin, it was a much different place than Northern Virginia where I grew up. So, I had to adapt my sales style. You can’t talk so fast down in Texas like you can up in Northern Virginia. So I had to slow down a little bit, and really, the biggest thing was I was getting too much information. I think this is what happens to a lot of investors, as I’m watching YouTube video after YouTube video, trying to absorb as much as I can. And I really didn’t start getting traction until I hired my first mentor and just plugged directly into him. So I started working with Sean Terry, a great guy, in the very beginning, and I would visit with him every quarter and he would tell me exactly what I needed to do and I’d come back the next quarter. And I did that for a couple of years and that really got me going. So hiring a good mentor early was critical for my success. I was fumbling around trying to watch YouTube videos for the first 11 months.

Jay Conner (08:17):

Right. I got you. So yeah, getting a mentor, getting a really, really good coach up front was very important for you. So you’ve got one of the largest, if not the largest, wholesaling company in the US. What does your company look like?

Nick Perry (08:51):

Basically, what does it look like physically? It’s an inside sales office, right? So we’ve got 11 employees and inside of it, we’ve got 5 in Acquisitions. We’ve got 3 in Dispositions, we’ve got my seat as CEO. Then we’ve got a couple support admins and then myself. So we’re not huge, but we’ve been doing it long enough that all of our people are just A players.

Jay Conner (09:23):

So, how many deals are you doing these days in your organization?

Nick Perry (09:28):

So, when we’re in the office, we’re getting anywhere from 3 to 5 contracts every single day. So between 40 to 60 closed and funded deals every month.

Jay Conner (09:39):

Gotcha. And how many different markets are you in?

Nick Perry (09:43):

So the unique thing about my company is we market the entire United States. So I don’t have a specific market or pockets or different markets. I literally blanket the entire US.

Jay Conner (09:59):

Got you. So about five contracts a day. Day in and day out. Let’s make sure everybody understands what we mean when we say “wholesaling.” Different people have different definitions of wholesaling. So what’s your definition of wholesaling? How does that work?

Nick Perry (10:14):

Yeah, wholesaling is, you’re going and you’re contracting a property. Wholesaling, you could literally wholesale any item, but we’ll just use real estate for the example. So you negotiate with a motivated seller to get a property under contract for a certain amount that you can turn around and give it to an investor for a higher amount. So easy numbers, you’ve got a $100,000 property. It’s worth a hundred grand. You get the seller to agree to let you have that property and put it under contract for $65,000. And then you turn around and you find a fix-and-flipper or an investor that wants to buy that property. And they’ll buy it for $75,000. Well, when you get a contract with both parties and turn them into the title company, the title company will give you a $10,000 check or however much the difference is.

Jay Conner (11:03):

Right. So would you say wholesaling in your company is sort of synonymous with assigning or collecting assignment fees?

Nick Perry (11:11):

Correct? Yeah, so we collect a lot of assignment fees, but we’re not just a one-trick pony either. We do “subject to” deals. I hold a lot of rentals in my portfolio, as well. We do novations. So we’re always looking for different exit strategies to monetize more deals.

Jay Conner (11:32):

Right? Explain to everybody what a novation is. What’s a novation deal?

Nick Perry (11:36):

So a novation deal is basically if you have a seller who wants close to retail, their house is in pretty good shape, right? You can go ahead and contract that property. Say they want thousands. We’ll use the $100,000 example again. You got a house that’s a hundred and the seller doesn’t want to take a dime less than 90. Well, you put that property under contract with a novation agreement at 90,000, and that novation agreement will allow you to actually list that property at full retail. Sometimes there’s minor repairs that you do as part of the novation agreement. You may go in and do some carpet or paint or landscaping, but you’re not doing any heavy remodels. These are properties that are in fairly good condition and you can put them and list them and get full retail from a conventional buyer at the end.

Jay Conner (12:27):

Right. What would you say is different about your organization, say from some of your other friends that have real estate investing companies, or say, from some of your other competitors?

Nick Perry (12:41):

Well, being nationwide is completely different than being in a select handful of markets because we don’t have boots on the ground. That would be really impossible, as well. So in order for us to be successful, we have to literally do everything over the phone from acquisitions to dispositions, to coordinating the showings. Literally, everything from A to Z is done remotely from our office in Austin, Texas. So that’s something that’s different than a lot of people, is we’re not having any boots on the ground or anything like that. And then, additionally, my people, that’s the biggest key to my success is the caliber of candidates that we’ve attracted into our organization. I think bar none, I’ll put my team up against anybody’s team that I’ve got a great group of guys.

Jay Conner (14:02):

Give us a 30,000 foot view of how you run a totally virtual remote operation, no boots on the ground. Like what are the key components that you have to have in place for that to work?

Nick Perry (14:27):

So, we do a ton of inbound marketing pretty much through PPC. So we do all online marketing. We don’t do any telecommunications. So a lead will come in and we’re talking to them very similar to the way that most people are talking to these sellers, but when we negotiate, we negotiate over the phone. So we’re going through the property condition. We’re evaluating the property right there on our computers in Austin, and based on the comparables and the condition that the seller describes, we’ll go ahead and contract that property via DocuSign, like electronic signature. And once we have that electronic signature, then the next step is to actually get real photos on file. And that way we can actually start to market that property. So we’ll have the seller take photos for us, or we’ll hire a local handyman or a realtor to go get photos for us on our behalf.

Nick Perry (15:22):

And then from there, once we’ve got our photos, we’ve got our contract and we know how to get access into that property, then we can start locating interested parties who actually want to buy that property. So we’ll go out, we’ll find the buyer, we’ll have them usually put a deposit down before they even go out to the property, once their deposit is in and they’ve agreed to purchase it based on the inspection, we’ll give them one walkthrough after they put their deposit down. Then from there, they’ll do their walkthrough and we’ll use a local title company, or we have national title companies that we use that’ll facilitate the closing with all parties and you send the wire right into our bank account.

Jay Conner (16:08):

So a little more specifically, how do you get really close on estimating repairs?

Nick Perry (16:17):

It’s an art. So one thing that we do is we have a detailed property description and then pictures tell a thousand words, right? So yeah, sellers don’t always know the exact condition of their property, or they try to hide things, you know? But once you have a detailed Rolodex of photos to look at, that’s going to get you really close. Also, after we send somebody in there, if they find out that there’s additional repairs that are needed, we’re going to disclose that to the seller and all parties and make sure that it’s a win-win for everybody involved. We want the investor to get a great deal, solve the seller’s problems. So, nothing’s really getting past us.

Jay Conner (17:08):

You say the majority of your buyers are other real estate investors that are taking the deal down and you’re planning on an assignment fee from them?

Nick Perry (17:21):

Yeah. And unless it’s a novation agreement or sometimes, we’ll just list the properties on the MLS on behalf of the seller. And in those cases, it’s a conventional buyer, but the majority of our clients are all real estate investors like yourself. And you guys that are watching the show that are fixing-and-flipping property, or you’re a buy-and-hold investor looking for additional cash flow properties. Those are our end clients at the end of the day.

Jay Conner (17:51):

You’ve got someone that’s starting out and they want to be in wholesaling. One of the first things they need to do, I suppose, is build a buyers list, right? So what are some of your tips and secrets and strategies on how you quickly build a buyers list of other real estate investors to market wholesale deals today?

Nick Perry (18:15):

Well, yeah, that was one of my biggest challenges going nationwide. I had leads coming in from everywhere, but I didn’t have buyers everywhere. And so one thing that was really helpful to me was you’re going to these masterminds and things like that because I got to know so many other investors from different markets. I was either able to barter, trade, or buy a ton of different buyers lists. So I quickly built up a large buyer’s list just from that. And then, additionally, Facebook is a great tool. There’s tons of real estate investment, Facebook groups, all over where there’s active investors looking for deals. So that and a lot of these small towns, we just reach out to the realtors there because those realtors know everybody, right? They know the doctor that wants to buy a couple of rental properties a month. They know the big fix-and-flipper that’s doing 40 homes a year. So you just get resourceful, roll your sleeves up, and talk to people.

Jay Conner (19:18):

You can’t be picking up the telephone, can you?

Nick Perry (19:22):

Now, we are big on that. I’m big on being on the phones. We don’t do a lot of texting or emailing. My guys, it’s old school, pick up the phone, and make contact and have a conversation.

Jay Conner (19:37):

Yeah, there you go. I love it. We’re in a crazy market nationwide, pretty much every market. There’s no inventory to speak of in the multiple listing service. I hear a lot of my real estate investing friends say it’s the most challenging time that they’ve ever had, finding the off-market deals. And so we gotta be consistently marketing. So first of all, would you agree with that statement that it’s more challenging to find deals today, say than a couple of years ago?

Nick Perry (20:13):

I don’t know. I mean, I’m making more money than I’ve ever made in my career right now. So I think it just comes down to being smart with the way that you’re marketing because if you’re doing telecommunications, which is cold-calling, ringless voicemail, texting sellers, that’s an uphill battle. You’re beating on their door, knocking on their door, asking to give them a cash offer and everybody else is doing that. So one thing that was critical for me was to get really good at online marketing. All I do is pay-per-click advertising. I don’t do any other form of marketing. It’s been that way for a long time just because it’s a completely different approach when somebody’s reaching out to you, asking you for help versus you reaching out and trying to help somebody.

Jay Conner (21:06):

Absolutely. I was gonna say, it’s a whole different conversation when they’re raising their hand looking for you versus you raising your hand and you looking for them. It’s a different, whole conversation when somebody is clicking on your ad and saying, “Hey, please contact me,” versus you’re coming into somebody’s newsfeed or a Facebook ad or anything like that. I love it. So that’s interesting. You’re the only person I’ve talked to that only has one marketing channel. So that’s fantastic. I would think your sales guys, your acquisitions guys have a lot happier day than some other wholesalers.

Nick Perry (21:54):

Big time. If I were to give them cold calling leads or texting leads, they’d probably quit because I mean, it’s a completely different vibe. We get our conversions and it’s 1 out of every 10 to 15 leads is a contract. So they’re having to do much less outbound dials to get deals.

Jay Conner (22:16):

Right. What’s your average cost of a deal these days? What’s your conversion cost? How much money do you have to spend in marketing to get a contract?

Nick Perry (22:31):

I know it fluctuates between $800 and $1200. So our cost per contract’s really low because I’ve been working on PPC for so long. I’ve got my cost per lead really low at this point, which obviously plays a huge part in the cost per contract and profitability and all of that.

Jay Conner (22:49):

That’s fantastic. Do you use virtual assistants in your business?

Nick Perry (22:55):

We do. We have some virtual assistants that help out on the disposition side. We have some a couple of full-time virtual assistants that help follow up within our internal database, but the majority of my staff is all in-house right there in Austin, Texas. And they’re 5 days a week, Monday through Friday just going after it.

Jay Conner (23:21):

What kind of CRM or tools or systems do you have in place that your business really couldn’t live without?

Nick Perry (23:31):

We’ve customized our Podio to do everything that we needed to do. So that’s been phenomenal. If you’re using Podio, find a good developer to help customize it to the way that you like to do business. And then additionally Zillow, we comp using Zillow and we comp using PropStream. So those are really helpful. And then on the selling side of the properties, we use a software called InvestorLift, which is really helpful. It’ll show you all the LLCs of the people that are flipping property there in the area and give you their contact information. So InvestorLift has been a powerful tool for finding those investors across the country.

Jay Conner (24:18):

Interesting. So you’ve got quite a few years of experience right now. My next question, you would probably be able to answer this in more than one way, so I’ll just let you pick one. What’s one of the most important lessons you’ve learned since being in real estate investing?

Nick Perry (24:35):

Oh man. There’s so many. If I had to boil it down to one though, I don’t want to give you a cliché answer, like, “Don’t give up” or anything like that, but in terms of real estate investing is, “It’s going to be okay.” So here’s what I tell a lot of my students, too. It comes down to your team, and let me elaborate on that. “A” Players are the only thing that work in this business. If you have an A Player and B Player, here’s what happens. You got the B Player that ends up getting half of the leads, and that deal that your A Player would have closed and made $70,000 on, your B Player is going to fumble on that and it’s not going to become a deal. So you end up having a lot of lost revenue. So you look at that and you take that scenario and you extract it out over a week, a month, a quarter a year, you could, you could be potentially losing your multiple 7-figures if you don’t have the best talent. So I think people want to try to settle for inexperienced people, people that aren’t A Talent because they don’t think they can afford them and things like that. But I’m telling you, good talent is really the key to my success.

Jay Conner (26:01):

And what are your favorite ways to find that talent?

Nick Perry (26:06):

So I worked at Indeed before coming into real estate. So I know a lot of the tricks on how to get a ton of candidate flow there. And then we’ve come up with a proprietary way of just being able to quickly funnel through people and get near the best people that rise to the top on Indeed. So, Indeed, by far is number one and then referrals, as well. We’ve had a lot of great people come through who work with me just through referrals.

Jay Conner (26:36):

Gotcha. Super! Well, Nick, I tell you what, you have got the experience and you are one impressive human being. What is a final thought or thoughts that you would like to share with the audience?

Nick Perry (26:50):

Yeah, final thoughts. The biggest thing is if you’re already in the business, what tends to happen a lot of times is you plateau, you end up getting stuck. I got stuck in what I call “wholesaling purgatory” for 3 or 4 years where I couldn’t get past 5 to 8 deals a month. And what I did was now that we do 40, 50, 60 deals a month, the biggest difference was 1. Your team, 2. Your marketing, and then 3.) Also being nationwide. So I literally downloaded everything I know into video format and then created a mastermind behind it, as well, where I work with already experienced real estate investors that are looking to get from maybe a handful of deals a month to 7+ figures, multiple 7-figures a year. That’s what I’m really good at is helping people that are already successful in getting them quickly through those growth pains in this business because I already went through it. So that’s my new passion now is working with other investors I get to help. That’s really rewarding to me. And that’s been my new passion since I don’t do much in the day-to-day of my wholesaling operation anymore. I just get out of those guys’ way and let them close deals.

Jay Conner (28:11):

Yeah, man, and I’ve gotten the same passion and that is making a difference in other real estate investors’ lives. So let’s give everybody your website because we got some viewers and most of the people that are going to be listening to us will actually be listening to the podcast. So that website is www.7FigureCartel.com. Did I get that right, Nick?

Nick Perry (28:49):

You got it. Or you can just reach out to me on Instagram. It’s just my name, Nick Perry and then REI like real estate investments. So just Nick Perry REI, or you can go to the website, but yeah, happy to connect and help you guys any way I can.

[wilkins]

I Love Rats

I love rats. Always have. My dad loved rats. His pappy loved rats. It’s in our culture. You could say they passed down their appreciation for rats through wholesome family traditions involving rats, but the truth is, I would have been obsessed anyway. Rats were always on TV growing up, and I can barely think of a video game I played as a kid where my avatar didn’t wield a rat. Now, it is certainly no secret within the Liberal Media that some people find my devotion to vermin to be “perverse” or “sadistic” -- especially in light of the many dozens of rat-bite massacres over the last thirty years that have killed hundreds, including children and teachers in American elementary school classrooms. But their ignorant judgment is beside the point. All that matters is this: my personal affinity for hoarding rats, breeding rats, and advocating on behalf of rats as if the rats themselves had the capacity to agree with what I argue is protected by the United States Constitution. And nothing will ever change that, because worshipping rats just makes sense. “Now,” you might say, “this is America so you’re allowed to feel however you want as long as it’s not too negative about Marvel movies, but your rat-love is bad for society.” And I will say: WHY DO YOU CARE SO MUCH IF IT DOESN’T AFFECT YOU? And then you will say all snooty, “Because every year in said society unacceptable numbers of people are killed by rats--“ And that will be the first place where you are wrong and refuse to acknowledge it! Because THE FACT is, it’s THE PLAGUE that killed those people. Just because the rats injected Plague into those people via rat-bite does not mean the rats are responsible in a prime-causality sort of way! If you are so concerned about this non-problem, then why not address Death Himself instead of Death’s Messenger, The Rat? I mean: have you ever asked yourself why you aren’t drafting legislation to ban the Plague instead of hassling God-fearing rat-loving Americans about their Constitutionally protected beliefs? Are you sure you’re not acting as a Useful Idiot for Big Plague? But that’s another rat-fact you fail to understand: Most rats don’t carry Plague and some rats don’t participate in rat-massacres at all! More often, rats are used for family traditions, like hunting (rats love carcasses) and posing for photos on social media about how rat-owners are marching for their rights. Rats aren’t just animals -- they’re a symbol with vicious teeth and disgusting claws and you can’t control a symbol! Because really: if the practice of hoarding rats served as such an easily identified red flag about a human-person’s value system, then why am I arguing that it’s Good, Actually with such a rat-fink grin? Once you’re finished scream-crying you will inevitably say something like, “This makes no sense. We need to limit the number of rats in society in order to stop the damage caused especially by rats.” And once again you will have fallen into a peanut-butter logic-trap that would easily be avoided by a rat, which is a cunning animal with an evolved sense of wisdom! Because you have no idea how many rats are really out there! Who is to say that banning the sale of rats will reduce the number of rat-bites delivered to ankles that should be wearing kevlar at all times if they don’t want a little nip? You can’t know the number and the CDC won’t study it because that would mean they’re biased! Next argument, Willard! And you will say what you always say, which is: We know for a fact that the United States is the only nation with a rat-death problem, and it’s the only country that allows citizens to buy, sell, collect, hoard, deify, and post continuously on social media about how great rats are. The widespread rat-love is both a symptom and the disease. But those facts signal the true answer like Master Splinter pointing silently atop a warm cheese pizza: We have good rats among us! They must rise up and stop the bad rats wherever they are, which can apparently be anywhere at any time for any reason (particularly white supremacy). The only way to stop a bad rat with plague is to bring a good rat with plague to the same location and let them claw it out! More rats, not fewer! That speaks to maybe the greatest problem I see with arguments trying to ban rats: Felidae-enslaving coastal elites wouldn’t know a Rattus norvegicus from a Bandicota. For me, caressing my rats, cleaning their fur, and constantly talking about them to people who agree with me before I speak is a soothing, wholesome activity that doesn’t raise uncomfortable questions about what it means to love an entity that is frequently associated with death. My Haters, on the other hand, know only rumors and headlines about rats, and therefore cannot participate in arguments where I suggest not having memorized rat physiognomy disqualifies their opinion that began as a reflection on deadly rat-massacres. In the end, the Framers solidified my rights as a rat-owner in the Constitution because they understood what America is truly about. They understood, better than my peers who experience the rat-massacres in real-time, the signal importance of establishing arcane processes that legally protect the entirely inexplicable but never-questioned love that millions of Americans feel toward a killing machine that does not know they exist. It just makes sense. Always has.

[repentantsky]

5 Companies That Have Too Much Hype Around Them

Look, we all love our favorite games with a passion, and to an extent that’s fine, but when that passion becomes obsession and that obsession becomes forgetting our own moral compass for the sake of entertainment, it does feel like it’s gone too far. It’s one thing to love what a company releases, it’s completely another to ignore every problem they’ve ever had. Not all of the companies on this list have done horribly un-ethical things, but they’ve at least been anti-consumer, and the fact that people don’t question that enough has led to them sometimes, making horrible mistakes. I am RepentantSky, I love making lists that trash on things that are popular, and these are 5 companies, that have too much hype around them.

5. Nintendo

Already I can hear people getting angry, and in a way I get it. Nintendo is for many people the place where they either begin to play games, or the place they go to keep on playing them when everything else let’s them down, and of course, they put an end to the flipping video game crash of 1983, and no one else will ever be able to claim that from them. That’s all wonderful, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be critical of them. I’ve talked about a number of things they’ve done wrong before, so let me quickly run down the list of some of their anti-consumer practices. They, charge too much for remasters and ports, they don’t drop prices in games, they used to charge for fixing Joy-Cons and now completely deny it’s a problem for legal reasons, despite everyone pretty much having experienced drift, they haven’t been good at getting stock for their items in at least 20 years, and oh yeah, they sell all the content for a remake for $115 on the 3DS, the system and the fans that helped them get by while the Wii U was massively underperforming, all while handing owners of the, at the time, unproven Switch, free content. Nintendo has a tendency to still think like a toy company, and they even used that idea to present the Nintendo Entertainment System as a toy instead of a console when they first game to the West with it, but they aren’t a toy company, their a gaming company that also sells toys, just like everyone else. I get they’ve done amazing things, I own over 150 physical handheld games from them, and a ton of digital games besides, but when they start charging twice what they are worth for SD cards, while releasing games that absolutely won’t fit on the limited space of the Switch, and they simply don’t care when costumers complain, it’s time to at least question their motives.  

4. Bethesda

Boy I used to really rip on this company back when I posted lists on Facebook, but I haven’t done it in a while, so let’s do it again. Bethesda has absolutely spent at least the last 10 years lying to people, Todd Howard, has become famous for it, but I think I might have been the only person who wasn’t shocked when Fallout 76 was the disaster that it was. There were so many things wrong with that game, that I don’t even have time to go over every little thing, but lying, you know the thing that will get another company on this list very soon, was a big thing they did with the game. They promised at one point that they weren’t ever going to charge for items in the game that gave in-game benefits, and they did, allowing ammo and other items to be bought with real money for a time, they promised new, specialized servers if you paid for a yearly service that was way too expensive, and that wasn’t true because people found proof of things missing from what would have been a freshly made, private server, and there’s no excuse for that, games in early access do that correctly, and they aren’t, at least supposedly, even finished yet. I wish I could say that’s all they’ve done, but they also bullied an indie developer over their game Prey, a game they may have bullied the original developer for so they could get cheaper, but we’ll never know because they refused to comment on that when asked, they also refused to update their outdated game engine for years, which caused something they spent over a decade fixing, games releasing with glitches, some of them game breaking. Yet somehow, they have such a fan base that those who love their games will claim the glitches are just part of the charm. That kind of fierce loyalty led to Fallout 76, and even though we make jokes about it even now, the horse DLC from way back in the day, was an indication of everything they’ve done, including trying to charge for mods made for free, meant to be consumed for free, twice. Bethesda is a bad company and they do not care. 

3. Activision/Blizzard

You know one of the worst things Nintendo does that I didn’t really mention directly in the first entry, is limit the amount of time a product is available, instead of just letting it be there for consumption as long as it’s selling (that was what the toy company reference was about if it wasn’t clear). However, Activision/Blizzard are the Kings of doing this, as they not only limited things while they were in control of Destiny 2 to the point where you pretty much had to use real money to get everything, and never mind everything else they did to it, because we’d be here all day going through it all, but they also don’t support games as a service titles long enough for dedicated fans. Crash Team Racing Nitro fueled, is a prime example of this. People weren’t done with that game, and when fans thought for even a split second that an update was going to come to fix an issue, their hype (mine to) was so explosive, it was almost like we were getting a new game, but then nothing happened, because they didn’t care. A lot of companies that do yearly release titles as a service have this problem and nothing exemplified that more for Activision, than Skylanders, a series originally made off the back of Spyro, who didn’t even wait for a year to release new games, as technically between October 21st and November 20th of the year the first game came out, they released three of them, and I’m not even kidding. Two of them, were mobile games! You might have thought I was going to go after Call of Duty, for this, but that horse has been beaten to ground, somehow, more than Skylanders was. They also, for whatever reason, released each expansion on different generations console generations, at different months throughout Fall, like somehow the season of Fall, they needed a release every month, if not two, and so off they went. I didn’t even get into Blizzard, but all I need to say is “Blitzchung” and all the memories will likely come flooding back. There’s also the fact that in two separate years, after gaining massive profits, they dropped hundreds of employees, and hired more than they’d let go, but I guess that doesn’t really matter to some of you, because when they did it this year, with so little warning, most employees found out via the news articles about it, but we all made such a little stink this time around, it didn’t create any media buzz, so I guess that doesn’t matter, you’d all rather play flipping World of Warcraft, like better MMO’s don’t exist. 

2. CD Projekt Red

I know this one comes off a little more fresh in the mind, and they technically only lied about one game, but man, what a series of lies it was. Also, let’s be honest, one major game, does not a great developer always make. CDPR’s previous two Witcher games did exactly what the author of the books thought they would, and that was almost nothing in terms of making a serious impact, and the reason is, they are kind of bad. They aren’t the worst games out there, but there is a good reason why The Witcher 1 and 2 haven’t been ported and/or remastered, despite how important they are to the story of Witcher 3, and that’s because they both suck. Cyperpunk 2077, was in a lot of ways, them just going back to being the developer they were before, the BIG ONE happened. They lied about nearly everything in regards to the game, including how the main platforms where consumers were going to buy it, were actually running well. I made those references to Witcher 1 and  2 for a reason, although if I’m being honest, they actually look better than Cyberpunk did on day 0, and that’s completely unacceptable. The budget for CDPR was basically nothing for Witcher 1 and 2 combined to what Cyberpunk got, but they were so focused on the PC versions because PC ran the game better, somehow (like maybe because they didn’t try with consoles) and they missed glitches that were so bad, the game felt like it was still in beta, if not alpha upon release. The fact that they’ve only released eleven games in twenty-three years, and only two of them didn’t have The Witcher on them, should have told us all we need to know, and yet the game, even after returns, which was another massive screw-job that led to Cyberpunk being removed from the PlayStation store, still sold Sixteen million units, all because of hype, and because apparently, some people don’t care if they’re lied to. Do you want to know what the other game they released is besides a Witcher title? It was flipping Saints Row 2, a fun game, but also one that’s too goofy for it’s own good, and yet suddenly makes Cyberpunk’s release, make sense, because it was all a massive joke, and a parody of good, well running, open world games. CDPR needs to seriously do something, anything different, and never release a game in this poor of a state ever again.

1. Ubisoft

I put Ubisoft at number one for a damn good reason, and that reason is, that everyone seems to hate the company, but loves their games, and I don’t know why. They haven’t been the overall worst company on this list, although they are pretty bad, but the major problem they have, and have had for at least a decade is that none of their games have any identity, they are literally all the same game, with different coats of paint. Sure, an occasional gem sneaks through like Assassin’s Creed IV, but all of the rest of their games have the same visual style (although ACII does seem to be the base for which they create their art let’s be honest), the shooting mechanics they have in all the games that have guns, all feel exactly the same, which is something even Call of Duty manages to avoid most years (guess I took a shot at them anyways) and yet somehow, someway, I keep seeing people getting excited for their releases, and it doesn’t make any sense. Sure, they throw a celebrity actor in from time to time, and the artistic style they use does look pretty cool, but everything is always the same with them, every single time, no matter what it is, and they still keep making money. It doesn’t really make sense either, because a lot of developers do make games that are very similar feeling, see the Life is Strange team or much as well all loved them, Telltale Games, but at least those titles told extremely interesting stories, and developed their mechanics at least a little, which is something most companies do just on principal, but not Ubisoft. They throw out a few Tom Clancy games every time they talk about what their releasing, the Trials and AC games are still mostly a yearly experience, and I’ll say it again, their entire list of releases since at least 2013, the year the previous generation kicked off, have pretty much all been the same. It would be nice if they made more games like Child of Light, but despite the fact that their games will likely never be as popular as Call of Duty, they keep churning out same-y shooters hoping that one day, maybe just one day, they’ll create their own CoD, and it’s just not gonna happen. The saddest part of all is that when they announce something different, something fans have wanted for years, we get The Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time Remake, which was literally delayed because fans said they wouldn’t buy it unless some actual effort was put into making it, why is this company so popular that it can keep doing this, someone please explain it to me. 

And that’s my list, can you think of any other companies that are too hyped? Let me know in the notes below, hit me up with a follow if you like my content, and give me a reblog, I’d really appreciate it. Have a wonderful life!  

[crustacean-on-main]

Libertarianism and Territoriality

A while ago, I got involved in a kerfluffle with esteemed tumblr user @shieldfoss in which I unwisely threatened to longpoast at him about politics. Turns out, there is demand for this post (hello @samueldays), so now I actually have to write it. Ugh.

content warning: the following poast is ramblomatic

So, to get the preliminaries out of the way -- tumblr is an extremely unsearchable website, and this isn’t meant to be a character assassination, so it’s both entirely possible and disturbingly probable that the things I will be arguing against correspond poorly or, in the worst case, not at all to things shieldfoss actually believes. Therefore, I will be arguing against a cloud of beliefs that I feel to be common enough among self-described libertarians and hope thereby to make perhaps a more general point.

At the heart of this discussion is the question of whether believing territoriality is immoral is incompatible with other ideals of libertarianism. We’re already running into the problem of extremely ill-defined terms, so we’ll have to clarify here. Territoriality is the easier one; we’ll specify that we mean a belief in the right of a group of people to eject or exclude others from territory that they hold in common or over which they have power. “Libertarianism” is the thornier one, so it might take longer to get at the essence here. For the discussion of borders, the common beliefs that are more or less relevant are a belief in the primacy of property rights, a belief in contractualism, being favorable to freedom of association and being deeply suspicious of government in general, but especially where government regulation could interfere with any of the former three. Now, let us look at a small-scale hypothetical example to illustrate the issue under discussion. Imagine a village in rural Pennsylzhopiya, populated largely by very devout members of some sect -- call them the Ruritanians -- who believe very fervently in Jesus Christ and Not Smoking Tobacco. One day they are surprised to learn that the United States has been taken over by the Libertarian Revolution and will henceforth be governed as a minarchy. Mindful of their new powers, they immediately pool all their property in a new entity called the Ruritanian Corporation of Pennsylzhopiya, that has a charter which prevents it from selling any of its property outright, and gives the religious community of Ruritanians deciding power in what it can do with its land. Meanwhile, in Philomena, the capital city of Pennsylzhopiya, imagine a neighborhood of people whose politics can be summed up as “progressive, but skeptical of big government”. Delighted at the news of the revolution, they do nothing in particular, because they already own their houses. They expect their lives to improve as a consequence of decreased regulation. Inspired by the political upheaval, some outsiders move to the Ruritanian community. They cannot buy Ruritanian land, but they can lease it at a low price provided they swear not to blaspheme Jesus Christ or Smoke Tobacco. Some of them fail to uphold this code; the Ruritanian council votes to end their leases and eject them from Ruritanian property. Others convert, using funds they have saved up to buy further land and add it to the common possession of the Ruritanian community. Ruritanians benefit from the light of the Libertarian Revolution. Meanwhile, in the libertarian neighborhood, a more unpleasant sort of radical fundamentalist Ruritanians has bought a house after the previous owner moved away. They have taken up picketing in public squares around the neighborhood, condemning public tobacco smoking. Since they by and large aren’t doing anything illegal, and the owner of the public squares, the city council, remains bound to the U.S. constitution, which was reaffirmed after the Libertarian Revolution, their neighbors are in a bit of a pickle. They did not take advantage of the new legal regime to create an entity exercising power in their name, if only because they don’t trust each other enough to give up private ownership of their homes, so they can’t do anything about the picketers. As time passes, more Ruritanian fundamentalists move to Philomena, eventually creating a sufficiently large nuisance for their liberal neighbors that most of them move away, creating a newly fundamentalist Ruritanian neighborhood that can in turn use its power to create new corporations to make sure the neighborhood stays Ruritanian. I assume most of my readers know where this is going, so let’s consider the final case: what if the Ruritanians didn’t form such a corporation but left their lands privately owned? They’d be vulnerable to the exact same tactic, since once property is legitimately acquired, there is no way to dislodge its owner. The real, non-libertarian United States contains many examples of this kind of hostile takeover of neighborhoods between groups, largely accomplished by application of force that was either within the bounds of the law or not cracked down on by whatever higher authority should have. The upshot of all this is that if you truly care about freedom of association with all it entails -- essentially, the right to choose your neighbors -- then you are left with the uncomfortable reality that if you have no sovereignty over the territory you occupy, you can’t choose shit; this is, of course, not a problem with a hypothetical libertarian society only, as history attests. Libertarians for their part tend to answer this criticism in one of several ways. The first is basically “well if you have a problem you can leave”, or the exit-only approach. This is in my opinion not workable on a large scale outside of the US, and probably not even there, but is at least philosophically consistent. The second is giving up this freedom as a value, at which point you just collapse into progressivism with a procedural fetish. The most interesting answer is a variation on “would your neighbors sell to people whose values are so different from theirs?”. I think that the answer tends to be: yes, they would. Unless there is a powerful compulsion on every single one of those neighbors not to sell to certain people, they have no incentive to forgo their personal material gain or convenience for the benefit of their neighbors, especially if, say, they were moving away anyway. You also cannot really create such a compulsion in a libertarian society unless it already exists, since you’d have to surrender your very real privileges, your absolute property rights, to the community in order to benefit from collective organisation this way, and that is extremely unlikely to happen unless you are already a fundamentalist Ruritanian. Conceivably an intentional community of some kind could pull it off, but that’s basically answer one in material terms. The tl;dr here is that in my experience a lot of libertarians claim to care about the benefits of social cohesion, or at the very least presuppose that you already have it, but don’t give a lot of thought to how it might be obtained or preserved once you have it. It’s true that a libertarian state could actually help buttress it if your group already has fanatical levels of asabiyyah, by expanding the things you’re allowed to do with yourself contractually, but for most people that doesn’t apply. Indeed, we see that even in our non-libertarian versions of capitalism, the combination of market forces and upward concentration of force is extremely corrosive to this sort of group cohesion. The final consequence of this is that a libertarian society (again, defined as above) would be extremely vulnerable to collapsing into what we have now, if not worse -- there is neither incentive nor means for anyone to defend against concentration of power into the moneyed few who control the largest international corporations. I’ve limited myself in the examples to discussion of small-scale examples, but it’s trivial to see what happens if you extend the same principles to national borders. If nations all had open borders, no tariffs and homogenized legal systems recognizing the primacy of property rights, you would get the worst kind of cyberpunk dystopia, where the biggest capital interests could essentially do whatever the fuck they wanted. I think many libertarians were attracted to the ideology by the depredations of large organizations like this, and probably believe in the romanticized freedom of the smallholder more than the freedom of international capital, which is why I originally called this position incoherent. The ideal of individual freedom is a foil, something to distract from the fact that if you remove all intermediaries, you’re left with the leviathan on top and individuals immediately subject to it.

[lamiasluck]

An Eye for Art

Here’s my first non ego story! Set in a high end art auction, one piece differs from the rest. A classic haunted painting with a gruesome story, as well as many past buyers that returned it time and time again. It seems like a lost cause to sell, if not for a strange man with an eye for the spiritual.

@emptynarration @alvie-ashgrove @shy-marker-pliers @juju-on-that-yeet @m4delin @lildevyl @verse2wo @ferociousfangirlofmanyfandoms (sorry if you don’t wanna be tagged uwu)

-

The lively crowd travelled around the room with an eager attitude amongst all of them. All strangers, for the most part, but all united with the common interest of tonight’s gathering. A love for the arts. Or, more specifically, a love for buying things in an auction. Rich and pompous people throwing away their money and overindulging in fancy champagnes. Nothing more the dull hearts could need.

With numbered auction paddles in hand, the group bid on various works of art from all sorts of mediums. Many artists were getting their hefty dose of recognition from the rich connoisseurs. One spent half a decade carving a detailed statue of an angel and earned enough money to make a stone army. A painting, one of a detailed setting of cultures, was made by a man that almost missed the auction because he overslept. Truly, this was a game for anyone looking for their slice of fame.

All, but one, of the artists showed up to take credit for their hard work and revel in the praise. There was something for all walks of life on this particular night. The group setting it up got lucky with the pieces they could gather. Though, one of the pieces would be concerning to want.

As the night went on and the artworks got new owners, there was one piece left by the podium. An antique, by the looks of it, with beautiful, hand-carved framework and a setting of a valley, with women frolicking through a meadow. On the surface, it seemed lovely, however, the crowd exchanged wary glances amongst each other, like it was hideous. No artist taking credit for it, no one showing any interest. The auctioneer cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I know you must be tired of seeing this thing, folks, but it was recently donated back by the last buyer,” he explained. There was a tight smile on his face as he tried to lighten the mood. “How many does that make now? Two? Four? Maybe six, if you count the guy that could handle it for an hour…” he laughed lightly. Didn’t get many others chuckling with him.

Barely anyone wanted to look at the painting, let alone bid on it. Clearly, no one wanted it, by what the auctioneer saw. All those paddles stayed firmly to everyone’s laps. In a way, it looked like there were more statues for sale. A simple nod of the head could be interpreted as a bid, after all, if the auctioneer is that desperate. And he was. 

This painting had a story. Frequent attendees knew it too well by this point. The Valley Girls had a long history of buyers, ignorant or curious alike. Many could only handle the painting for about a week. An old piece with a background of murder and vengeance hiding behind that cheery setting of flowers and sunshine. The auctioneer let out a heavy sigh, shivering even standing near the damn thing. Those valley girls had small, but piercing eyes that seemed to follow whoever looked at them.

“I’ll be easy on everyone. Can I get, say, $50?” The auctioneer scanned the crowd for anything. “Going once…” The crowd stayed silent, which wasn’t surprising. “Twice���” Maybe this painting would be better off burned. It doesn’t matter if it’s made with rare oil paints, or that the frame was carved from the finest oak. Something like this shouldn’t exist.

“Oh, I’m sorry-!” a quiet voice spoke up, followed by a raised paddle to make the last second bid, Number 4, something no one had seen this entire night.

Everyone looked to see a young man standing behind the crowd. Short in height, so it was easy to miss him, but he dressed just as proper as everyone else here, in a suit jacket and turtleneck. He fidgeted with his glasses, looking down as everyone stared at him. 

“Sorry… I was thinking to myself.” This man kept his paddle raised. The only confident thing about him. 

“Are you sure, sir?” the auctioneer asked.

The man nodded. “Yes, that’s in my budget.” Everyone else looked shocked. Such a kind and shy man was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

It simply wasn’t believable. “Do you know what this is?” Screw making a sale, the auctioneer was concerned. “The history?”

Another nod. “Yes… I’ve done my research,” the man replied, confused. “I know about all that… and a couple interesting facts!” He pointed to the corner of the painting. “Those red dots there aren’t more flowers, actually. It’s the blood… from the murder… um.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, that’s a bummer fact… ignore me.” He ducked his head again and let his fluffy, black hair hide his embarrassed face.

Well, at this point, couldn’t deny a bid. “You can put the paddle down now,” the auctioneer whispered and was met with another quiet apology. He got the crowd’s attention back to continue, albeit much quicker. “Do I hear 75? Going once, twice- sold! To the man that shares too much.”

Very hesitant applause followed. Everyone gave the man odd looks, before talking amongst themselves as they dispersed. The last piece had been sold and the night was coming to a close. Not necessarily leaving on a high note, but overall it was a fun night. The auctioneer guided people who purchased artwork to pay and find ways to carefully bring it home. The odd man stayed by the side lines to let everyone pass by. Better not draw any more attention, especially with the judgemental glances he was getting. 

Once everyone paid for their things and the artists began bidding their goodbyes with their pieces, the man went over to collect his painting. That auctioneer was still around, watching over things and keeping a curious eye for the haunted painting. Such a timid man bought the damn thing. He was small, not just height wise, but he carried a demeanour that didn’t want to be seen. Hands that constantly fidgeted with his glasses, shoulders slumped to make his posture tinier, nervous expressions. God, this man was going to die by whatever demons plagued the Valley Girls.

“Can I get your name, sir?” a receptionist asked.

“Xander,” his voice was still as quiet as ever, “Collins… Xander Collins. Sorry…” He gave a shy smile. “Should I spell it out or…?” “That’s alright, mister Collins,” she reassured. “I think I got it. Enjoy your painting, if you can.” 

It was cheap enough that Xander could pay for it with cash. Looked like she, and many others, were rushing the process to get it out of here as soon as possible. Still, it was packaged nicely and the perfect size for him to carry himself. Now to give everyone a peace of mind and be on his way. 

“Excuse me.”

Xander flinched, looking back and seeing the auctioneer heading towards him. He gulped. “Yes…?”

“Sorry, just wanted to ask a couple questions. It’s scratching at my mind, I suppose,” he chuckled awkwardly. “I’ve never seen someone know the backstory of this thing and buy it. You one of those ghost hunters?”

Ah yes, the classic question. Xander was used to it, but he still fidgeted under the other’s gaze. “I guess I collect art like this… it’s a hobby of mine,” he explained. “I’m an exorcist.”

The auctioneer hummed in curiosity. “Oh~ So you’re gonna kill the ghost! I get it.”

“No-! Never!” Xander sputtered, before clearing his throat and looking down. “Sorry… I just- I don’t hurt the ghosts. Sorry.”

“What? Then what are you doing with them? Playing patty cake?”

Xander shook his head, frowning slightly. “I help them pass on… peacefully. They’re stuck here and helpless.” In a way, the spirits were humans still, and he certainly didn’t want to treat another human with malice. Not with how gently he held the painting against his chest. 

“Oh, I see. Kinda.” The auctioneer furrowed his brows and looked at Xander with a puzzled expression. “Well, you have fun with that, then. No refunds.” He turned on his heels, walking away quickly. 

Xander breathed a sigh of relief as he’s finally left alone. The trip to his car was easy after that. He placed the painting in the passenger's seat, not crazy enough to buckle it in like a person, thankfully. Though, the idea did make him giggle. 

The air was tense with the painting beside him, making a shiver crawl down his spine. Still, he didn’t falter. He was as confident as ever compared to how he acted in front of the others. “I’m glad I finally found you, Mary Ann,” he hummed in content. “That place was scary…” He gripped the steering wheel tightly, before taking a deep breath. 

The painting obviously didn’t speak back, but Xander didn’t expect anything. “Everything will be okay… hopefully.” With his research, it should be fine. Doubt was always a tricky problem, though. “I’ll do my best…”

Some may say Xander had a dangerous hobby. The art pieces he collected had very real stories of people getting hurt or traumatized, after all. However, he had his precautions. Be respectful. Be patient. Be helpful. No running away screaming for him, not with a job to do. 

Not many would praise the strange boy hunting for ghosts to save, but it was an interesting hobby. Every time a spirit felt at ease and passed on in Xander’s presence, he took pride. Ghosts were simply unfortunate souls that got stuck in a confusing situation. So, he doesn’t mind going the extra mile for their sake, even if he could only make a dent in his effort. One art auction at a time.

[nofacenocaseblog]

𝗗𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 #3:  NARCOPISOS Inc. /Barcelona narcopisos, a necessary evil

The 3rd episode of Dope Stories is the most in-depth investigation of the series, so much that it took me nearly 3 years to gain the trust and respect of my contacts and more importantly, to get relevant insights about the local drug market and its players to show, under a different angle than mainstream media, what’s happening behind the closed doors of the Ciutat Veilla’s narrow streets.

Playground 1 - Raval, Barcelona / 2018 / iPhone 

“Drugs are ruining our neighborhood! “,  “Narcopisos are disrupting the real estate market!” ,  “ We don’t feel safe!”… 

Those are the slogans or headlines you see in the media or written on banners hanging from people’s balconies.  

“Narcopisos are filthy and dangerous!”

But are they though?

FOREWORD

Before getting started, I wanted to write a few words about Barcelona. After living more than a decade in New York, my wife and I moved to Catalan capital for about 4 years.  After reading this article you might think that I m not particularly fond of the town and its inhabitants.  I won’t lie, we didn’t receive the warmest welcome, especially from Catalans. This said, the town and its vibe are unique and galvanizing.  Very much like Marseille (my hometown), Barcelona is an harbor city with the port/marina right in the center, meaning: lots of traffics, smuggling, immigration, corruption, drugs etc… There is always “something going on”, if you catch my drift.  Shady, nasty, funny, ugly, beautiful, vulgar,  the cast of “pirate-like” characters gravitating around the city center is fascinating.

Occupied - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / Nikon 3200

As far back as I can remember, I’ve always been drawn toward the forbidden,  the danger, the illicit, the hidden, the bad...  To my eyes, “ugly” has always been more interesting than “beautiful”.  Barcelona is not a dangerous city but you need to keep your guard up: pick pockets roaming the subway,  gypsies asking for money on La Rambla (the city’s most touristic avenue) while releasing your back pocket from your wallet, junkies selling stolen goods or begging for change for their next fix #nextfixandchill , black people selling fake airmax on the Barcelonetta marina, drunken street fights in the early hours of the morning... Tragicomic scenes are unravelling before your eyes in an surreal backdrop: Gaudi’s most beautiful “psychedelic” buildings (Sagrafa Familia, casa pedrera, Palau Guell...) in a jungle of gothic buildings ending on a fisherman village overseeing a beautiful beachfront promenade ending with the native “star’chitect” Bofill’s famous W... 

Poolside - Barcelonetta, Barcelona / 2018 / iPhone

Ok, enough with the touristic tour, time to get real!

Stairway to Hell - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

Embark on a descend to the heroin inferno that became Raval.  From the fields of Afghanistan to the bloodstreams of Spain...

La Ruta [Spanish for “the route”]

19,414 Pakistanis live in Barcelona, 6,600 of them are established in the neighborhood: El Raval (1) meaning more than 30% of the total community.  El Raval has always been my favorite barrio in town.  With 47% of immigrants (2) , the mosaic of faces, cultures and shops you encounter is dazzling .  Going back to the Pakistani population, I used the word “established” for a specific reason: they actually own many of the businesses in Raval: barbershop, cheap bars and restaurants, wholesale shops, import/export businesses, money transfer services (Western Union, Moneygram), food and grocery shops... I’m not accusing here the Pakistani business owners of backing the drug traffic but they basically created a web of small businesses in a tight net community with their own language, making it hard for the authorities to see through this social fabric potentially sheltering illegal activities. 

Why the Pakistani population is subject to speculation and doubt from the local authorities?  The answer is simple: Afghanistan.  Afghanistan  is by far the biggest producer of opium in the world. According to the US military, 90% of the world's heroin is made from opium grown in Afghanistan. It makes up 95% of the market in Europe (3).  The country has been the leader in opium poppy production since 2001.  Based on the 2014 report from the UNODC (United Nation Office on Drugs and Crime), Afghanistan not only grow opium but also process heroin in several laboratory as well as morphine (easier to produce from raw opium by adding calcium oxide and ammonium chloride).  From Afghanistan, several routes are used to smuggle their prime commodities: the Balkan route has been the primary route but things are changing and the Southern route has become more and more used.  Afghanistan share 2,400km of border with Pakistan and over 50% of illicit afghan opiates are trafficked through Pakistan which enjoys a a strategic location making it a perfect dispatch zone with readily accessible by land, sea (Gwadar and Karachi seaport) and air ways .  

The same UNODC report also indicates that the majority (37%) of the heroin seized in Pakistan was en-route for Europe..

*** Read and/or download the full report here ***

By the way, let’s not forget that Barcelona is also one of the Camorra’s stronghold.  And with Russians and Albanian mafias also present on the territory, Spain -where no powerful local crime syndicate operates and laws on prostitution and gambling are “blurred” to say the least-  has become one of organize crime’s favorite playgrounds for money laundering, drug smuggling, human trafficking, gambling and prostitution... Nothing really happens here without their “green light”, but that’s another story (5)

Back to our Southern route, once the product reaches Barcelona, it becomes very hard to pin point. Narcotics coming through the Balkan route also ends up in Barcelona but in different “retailers”’ hands:  Romanian family-based clans, based mostly in Besos (a run-down project in the heart of Poblenou) and  occupying one single narcopisos in Raval (they have moved 3 times over the 4-year period of my “investigation”) but known to have the purest and most processed Caballo sold in town. 

El Caballo [Spanish for “the horse”, street name of heroin ]

[WARNING]  Most of the photographs of this post are uncensored, quite graphic and… of poor quality…. my bad, I took them.  But I had circumstances: hidden cellphone, no flash, illegal activities going on, indoor, with very little to no light…  Shots are not the best (no pun intended) but you’ll step right into the infamous narcopisos you’ve heard of or read about. And not once they’ve been searched and trashed by the police like you’ve seen in the press but while they are in full operation. Raw, those images might be quite shocking to some of the readers, but take the emotion out of he equation and you’ll come to realized that, for lack a better choice, narcopisos are a necessary evil.   My intention here is not to start a polemic nor come out as a provocateur but to shed light on a real issue, still happening, involving real people, slowly dying, failed by a syste unable -or unwilling- to help them.

Gears - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

El Raval

1989,  US superstar Keith Harring is in Barcelona for his exhibition on La Rambla.  After speaking with an old friend of him from New York living here for awhile, he decided to paint a mural, his way to to show his love for and connection with the town. The next day, Harring chose the wall in Plaça de Salvador Segui in Raval.  He was warned that the area was one of the most dangerous areas in town. Back then, in the 80’s the Spanish government had the genius idea to decriminalize the use, but not the supply, of hard drugs and did not implement any proper treatments to sustain this measure...  Spaniards have ignored the issue and it sparked a heroin addiction epidemic that saw HIV rates soar (2a).The artist was attracted to the neighborhood and decided it would offer the perfect canvas for his message about the dangers of drugs and AIDS. At first it was supposed to be a temporary mural but in the end, up to this day, you can still enjoy Harring’s mural behind the MACBA museum. Below is a photograph I took of what became now hot-spot for skateboarder and cool bars

Tricks - Raval, Barcelona / 2016 / Nikon 3200

Beside its bad reputation, Raval has always been a magnet for artists and “cool kids”, misfits and outcasts but more recently the new kid on the block is named gentrification… in other word: Fun is over.   Well… not quite yet.  In Barcelona, everything moves slowly, gentrification included. The result is a mix of fancy hotels, art galleries, designer boutiques... mixed with prostitutes and their lovely clientele, dealers, junkies, businessmen, families of tourists wandering the streets… a fascinating mix of characters with theatrical scenes playing before your eyes: hustlers trying to rip off tourists, white collars finding themselves buying bad cocaine from a kid in a narrow, sketchy alley… the show is in the street, but not only. 

The Narrows - Raval, Barcelona / 2016 / Nikon 3200

What businesses, in Barcelona, are open 24/7, have no vacancy, a steady stream of customers and a product that sells itself? The answer: Narcopisos Inc.

The phenomenon of the Narcopisos emerged in 2016 (a year after I moved to Barcelona) following Spain’s property crash.  Foreclosed or unsold apartments, owned by banks and investment funds were left emptied, abandoned, in a country in full housing crisis...  It wasn’t long before the vacant spaces started being squatted: some by respectable families, in need of a place to live, some by drug dealers using them as selling point and shooting gallery.  A place where you can get a cheap fix in a relatively clean room.

Ritual - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

Helped - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

Thanks to my various contacts, I had access to different types of narcopisos, but from crack to dope houses, most of them were operating the same way: - a cctv video surveillance in place at the street level or someone looking out for the cops. - a room with junkies to confuse police upon arrival and make it look like they are actually squatting the place - 1 to 3 dealers serving customers one a the time. - An exit back door (if available) in case the police knocks on the front door. - One or two rooms for users. - Hourly cleaning of the premises to make the place look “decent” and “squatted” in case of a bust - Little quantity of drugs at the time, no more than 10 grams of each. - Open 24/7 - Re-up every hour or so - Single use paraphernalia available to the users - In some cases, Narcan at hand (medicine used to reverse the effect of an OD).

Cleaning Session - Career d’en Road 22, Raval, Barcelona / 2016 / iPhone

My connections in the Pakistani community took time to build but  strengthen throughout the years to reached a level of trust where we came to split the bread at several occasions… no seriously, we actually got invited in their Halal “canteen” in Raval where only Pakistanis could enjoy their local cuisine, a unique experience… They also gave me access to two of their stash houses: located in legit apartments, in proper buildings, on the outskirt of Raval, close to Sant-Antoni, less prone to police check.  No users there, only wholesalers, dispatching heroin to “representatives” of each narcopisos at below retail-price: between 20 and 40 euros the gram depending on the quantity purchased. 

Going back to the narcopisos, some were run by junkies (where the product was often cut from the bash they were getting from the stash houses), some by pakistani or afghan immigrants, with decent quality product, some by Catalan families, living there for decades under stabilized rent and with their own connection and product of fluctuant quality.  Last but not least, one narcopiso was occupied by the Romanian clan mentioned earlier.  Below are some photos of one of their spot at 22 Carrer d’en Roig, later busted and walled by the Mossos d’esquadra (Catalan police)

Romanian at work - Career d’en Road 22, Raval, Barcelona / 2016 / iPhone

Boss - Career d’en Road 22, Raval, Barcelona / 2016 / iPhone

If narcopisos was selling both crack and heroin, two rooms were at the disposal of users, one for smoking their bottles or pipes and the other room to shoot up or smoke heroin on tiny pieces of foil.

Sterile hospital-like garbage disposal were available for discarding the used paraphernalia.

Bloodstream Hunt - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

#NextFixandChill - Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

Everything is provided to avoid the spread of disease and the use of the drug in plain sight in the street therefore reduce public disorder.

Not that dealers became humanitarian all of a sudden, but kicking customers with their (illegal) purchase out in the street expose them to being ratted on or worst, having an overdose in plain sight attracting the police and paramedics... either way, it’s not good for business so narcopisos’ “managers” rather keep their clientele indoor until they’re done using and good to do.

Now, there is another type of business in Barcelona dealing with drug users and addiction: it’s called Centre de Dispensació de Metadona - Centre d'Atenció Primària Casc Antic (the methadone clinic in short....). 

* They’re not open 24/7 but rather in the morning only * It can take up to 2 weeks to see a doctor in order to enroll in a Methadone Maintenance Treatment -MMT (true story...when a single day can be the last one for a heroin addict living in the street) * Last but not least, since the doctors and nurses’ work schedule is way more important tthan their patients’ care, some centers give up 3 to 4 days worth of supply of methadone at once to heroin users so the health workers can have their days and weekends off. The result of this amazing system: the methadone is sold in the street by users so they can buy their heroin and/or in certain case, the methadone is saved up (for rainy days) and the patient keeps using heroin instead.  Yes, the patient: let’s not forget that those “filthy junkies” actually are patients (even if they’re hardly seen as such in those centers),  suffering from a disease called addiction, or substance abuse disorder if you prefer the american way of calling it, and in need of medical care but what can I say... old habits die hard (both way...). 

Patients taking methadone to treat opioid dependance must receive the medication under the supervision of a practitioner. After a period of stability (based on progress and proven, consistent compliance with the medication dosage) and only then, patients may be allowed to take methadone at home between program visits... but not in Barcelona.

Methadone substitution as a treatment of opioid addiction does not function as much to curb addiction as to redirect it and maintain dependency on legal channels. Methadone has been designed that way, as a lifetime treatment whereas alternative palliatives such as Buprenorphine are not even considered by doctors when those therapies would be more efficient in certain cases: with users who do not shoot the drug for example, or with users wishing to quiet and get sober... but let's be honest here, sobriety has never been the objective of those methadone programs.  The real goal of this public service is not to cure addiction, but to make sure junkies don’t use, steal, rob and/or commit act of violence in the streets to feed their habits

The patient here is not the users but the society.   Those centers aren’t trying to help the user quit his habit, but to make sure the society doesn’t suffer from it.  Good or bad, Narcopisos are curbing down the spread of diseases, cleaning up the streets from users as they offering temporary shelter to their customers and operate around the clock..  It seems to me that their function is almost... complementary if not necessary.

So before eradicating narcopisos from the face of Raval, let’s pause and look at the alternative: junkies buying and using drugs in the streets of the city center, in the worst sanitary condition possible with no regard for the residents around.

Mañana

So what’s next? Keeping those illegal activities going on? Certainly not.

But before jumping the gun and closing it all at once, better get ready for the alternative because drug addiction will not disappear with the narcopisos. In my last article, I speak about users stigmatization and how society still struggles to see addiction as a disease and not a will power issue, turning the blind eye to a sheer amount of studies and discoveries explaining how heroin addiction, over time, modify the pathway of your brain frontal lobe and affect your decisional power, making it hard -to not say impossible- to say “no”. 

Don’t take me wrong.  It would be naïve to think all users roaming the streets are here trying to quit and become their better self. Most of them have no intention to do so. I’m not here to judge nor take side.  But in order to find a solution to the narcopiso situation, I would like to introduce Barcelona to his neighbor: Portugal.

Portugal had one of the worst heroin epidemic in Europe back in the 90′s and after the failed many “US war on drug”-type of approaches. They finally shift approach and started treated drug addicts as patients who needed help, not as criminals” says Goulao, the architect of Portugal drug policy.  After the decriminalization and treatments, they planned to open “supervised drug consumption facilities” Naina Bajekal says in her 2018 article in the Time “where drug users can consume drugs in safer conditions with the assistance of trained staff. Such facilities have been running in Europe since 1986, when the first was opened in Berne, Switzerland.”(5)

The result? Evidence (6) shows these these type of sites save lives, reduce public disorder, and curb the spread of diseases.

Does that sound familiar? Yes, that's right, the first of the two businesses we spoke about: Narcopisos Inc.

Purgatory - Carrer d’en Roig 22, Raval, Barcelona / 2017 / iPhone

For No Face No Case: Dope Stories chapter 4, we’re going to Italy.  Don’t worry, it won’t be another mafia-related article explaining how the N’Drangheta and Camorra became the most powerful crime syndicates in the world, you can watch that on TV.  Called “Il Racconto dei Racconti”  (Tales of Tales in english), the article will keep it real, street style: short stories from North to South: Torino, Milano, Genoa, Roma, Napoli... Stay tuned for some dope stories on how drugs are sold, used and abused in the Renaissance country 

References (1) https://www.barcelona-metropolitan.com/featuresx/report-barcelona-pakistani-community/ (2) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_Raval (3) https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-47861444 (4)https://english.elpais.com/elpais/2018/12/07/inenglish/1544171107_204329.html (5) https://time.com/longform/portugal-drug-use-decriminalization/ (6) https://www.cbc.ca/news2/interactives/portugal-heroin-decriminalization/

[cannebady]

Prompt: Aziraphale and Crowley reading reviews for the bookshop

Thank you for the prompt @captainclickycat!

In hindsight, Crowley isn't sure why he set the blasted thing up to begin with. It was, more than likely (read: most definitely), the result of quite an extraordinary amount of alcohol, because all of his best (read: worst) ideas have always started that way and why would this one be any different?

This one, evidently, was him setting up an official Yelp account for A.Z. Fell & Co., Antiquarian and Unusual Books located singularly in one London, Soho. He's sure that it'd seemed like it'd be a laugh riot at the time, though he's not entirely sure why, and he's sure that his sloshed self had been perfectly positive that Aziraphale would never even find the page so honestly what did it matter?

What his sozzled brain hadn't counted on was that, for all of his long and storied existence, he'd been the architect of his own irritations and, like the best of cosmic jokes, it seems that he would continue to be for the rest of bloody eternity.

First of all, he'd truly never thought that Aziraphale would acquire, much less actually use, a mobile phone. But, here in the after of the world that shouldn't have been, it seems that stranger things have truly happened. Of course it didn't help that he'd kept suggesting that Aziraphale get one and then, had gone so far as to actually present the angel with one, fully loaded. He just hadn't counted on the angel taking the blasted thing with his bright, shiny, sea-foam eyes, to which Crowley had no functional defenses, and then take to using it like a fish to water.

The second thing, that came on the tails of learning to use his mobile, was that Aziraphale discovered that he could look up restaurants wherever they were and didn't have to count on Crowley to do so. Additionally, there were reviews he could look at that were just, "So helpful Crowley! Look at these humans, inventing something so useful. They always have been wonderfully creative." Each word was imbued with absolutely heinous amounts of love and good will and Crowley was really just the worst demon there ever was, because he was so damn charmed by Aziraphale being charmed that he didn't put two-and-two together before it stuck him upside the head like a two-by-four.

---

"Crowley", Aziraphale whispered intently while Crowley was quite comfortably napping on the back room sofa.

Crowley tried to ignore it, he really did. He was so wonderfully comfortable and it really would be a shame to wake up. However, it's been established that he has fuck-all in terms of ability to deny Aziraphale anything, so of course he took the bait.

"Yes angel?", he replied, trying to infuse demonic levels of annoyance of nonchalance (read: sleepy, part-yawn, part-soft demon noises) into his tone.

"There are reviews, for the bookshop, on the Yelp!"

It takes Crowley a minute to catch up, because he's still not used to Aziraphale having internet access or knowing what something like Yelp is. He's about to wonder aloud what customer would actually be satisfied enough with Aziraphale's customer service skills to go so far as to write a review about it, before he realizes that he's the one who set up the account in the first place and promptly forgot.

"Wha, erm, what're they saying angel?" he asks, just a bit concerned that this might all be traced back to him.

Aziraphale scrolls down to the first review and Crowley comes up to read over his shoulder.

Marci S.

Soho, London, United Kingdom

2 Stars - 25/1/2020

"I've lived in Soho for years and finally decided to go in. The shop is in complete disarray, but the selection is great. I was satisfied until I actually tried to buy a book. The shopkeeper was icy, difficult, and downright combative. I left empty-handed. Not worth it."

Crowley cringes for a second, before Aziraphale huffs.

"Well, honestly, what did she expect? Hefting a first edition Austen around like that. Am I supposed to sell that to just anyone?" And Crowley wishes he wasn't so fucking impressed by Aziraphale's lack of propriety in these situations, but here he is, smiling like a loon.

"Oh, well of course. Why would she think she could buy a book in a book shop?" He gives a patented shit-eating grin which Aziraphale returns with an eye roll so well rehearsed it'd put Liz Lemon to shame.

"What else, angel?" Crowley asks because he's a glutton for punishment and he just loves that he still gets to rile Aziraphale up. That there's still a world where he can.

"Well, ah, here's another one." Aziraphale scrolls and lands on the next review which is, somehow worse.

Peter W.

Covent Garden, London, United Kingdom

1 Star - 22/12/2019

"Ponce of a shop owner wouldn't let me look at any of the rarer books. Been looking for a first edition Wilde for my son but the pansy wouldn't even let me near, real bastard he was."

Crowley can't help himself. Aziraphale is radiating righteous anger and looking more indignant by the second and it's just too good. Crowley's practical jokes never work out this well and he didn't even need to manufacture the reviews! A.Z. Fell & Co. has a 1.7 rating overall and he knows, he just knows, that every single one of those reviews are 100% honest.

Horribly, once he starts laughing, he can't quite stop. It takes the angel a second to realize that Crowley's breathy sounds aren't commiserating sounds of support but are rather poorly held back guffaws and he pulls out his best thin lipped glare and that's it, that's the end of Crowley's self control. He starts laughing in earnest, nearly bent over at the waist and feeling tears line his eyes, when he hears a truly irritated squawk leave Aziraphale's mouth.

He tries to speak through his bouts of laughter, "Oh, hah, angel, you-," he breaks off again, "you really are a bastard though." To which he receives a thunderous look, laced with millennia of angelic righteousness, a scathing, “Do shut up”, and a fussy turn that would've been a hair flip had Aziraphale had the hair to do so.

Aziraphale is manically scrolling before he stops and the air changes. If Crowley had been less filled with mirth, or had been less self-confident, he would've felt the change in tension. He would've realized that the specific change meant that Aziraphale had found exactly what he needed and that he was about to hand Crowley's arse to him for the 99 millionth time in their very long lives. But, as it was, Crowley was feeling far too chuffed for anything so fleeting as self-awareness.

When he finally looks back to the angel, planning a bit more gloating, he sees a carefully serene, calm smile reaching back, and his blood runs ice cold. This can't possibly be good.

"Well, how about this one, then?", he says and gestures for Crowley to read what's on the screen.

Naya L.

Lambeth, London, United Kingdom

4 Stars - 13/10/2019

"Mr. Fell is actually quite nice, if a bit fussy once you get to know him. He really knows his stuff. He let me use some of his original texts for my thesis. A bit odd, though, every time I went to do a bit more work or look at a new text, there was a man completely asleep, snoring, on the sofa. Weird look about him, sunglasses while indoors (even while sleeping?) and lots of black leather, definitely dyes his hair red. Looked a bit like a washed up rock star. Maybe a friend of Mr. Fell's? Either way, the selection is fantastic even if it smells a bit odd and seems a bit dingy."

Crowley's not laughing now. It takes a moment for him to register that the "indignant squawk" he heard was actually from his own mouth rather than the angel's.

"How dare she-, a washed up-, these are Valentino!"  He yells gesturing wildly towards his own face and the sunglasses that aren’t actually there at the moment, creating more of a chaotic flapping than any recognizable gesture. And now it's the angel's turn to stifle a giggle behind a well-manicured hand. "And I do not dye my hair! It's just like this! I'm a demon, remember?"

At this, Aziraphale starts making a sound that Crowley will respectfully refer to as cackling.  Of course, this was going just too well. And he clearly needed to stop kipping on the sofa as often as he did or it'd do awful things to his carefully crafted reputation.

"Oh, my dear, that's just divine” the angel says wiping an ancient handkerchief primly under his eyes. Crowley wants to be annoyed, and he is to some extent (he'll find bloody Naya L. and give her a piece of his mind, he will), but Aziraphale is just so happy and he's a true sucker for that laugh and that smile.

"M'not washed up, m'just retired."  Through the haze of exasperation, he realizes, perhaps for the first time, that he really is. Retired, a retired demon. That’s what he is. Aziraphale seems to realize it too, because his smile morphs from snide and down right bastardly to warm so quickly it gives Crowley emotional whiplash.

"Yes, I suppose we are, dear." The angel puts down the phone and herds Crowley toward the sofa where they can get comfortable; Aziraphale seated on the far end and Crowley's head comfortably pillowed in his lap, angelic fingers carding through his (definitely, absolutely not, dyed) hair.

Were either of them to look at Aziraphale's phone screen, they'd see the review just below Naya L., which read simply:

Damian R.

Soho, London, United Kingdom

5 Stars - 10/10/2019

"Can’t remember why I went in there in the first place but there was a huge snake. Just a real big snake, all black and red and gigantic. Just sitting in the bookshop, not sure why. Nice lookin snake overall tho. Would probably go back." 

[hettiesworld]

War and Peace (and Love)

Pairing: Sergeant William (Will) James x OC

Summary: Corporal Joslyn Woods has been transferred to the Delta Camp and she has to work with the bomb disposal unit, consisting of Specialist Eldridge, Sergeant Sanborn and Sergeant James. She is the first female to be put on a bomb disposal unit in Iraq and her duty is to keep James safe from snipers and gunmen, willing to attack James.

During the 365 days of being with them, Woods develops feelings for James after the ‘loss’ of the kid who sold DVDs to James, also known as Beckham. She is there to comfort him and support him throughout the rest of the days.

Warning(s): Spoilers for the movie, angst, strong language, mature themes.

A/n: This is finally the second chapter of this series! Can’t wait for you guys to read it! Some of the gifs are not mine. Credit to the owners.

Chapter 2:

363 days left in Iraq. 

There was a car left in the town centre with a bomb in it. It was in front of a United Nations building. Joslyn, Sanborn, Eldridge and their leader, Sergeant James arrived at their location. 

All of the citizens were being evacuated as Joslyn helped James into the bomb disposal suit. She didn’t want to but Sanborn and Eldridge were too busy, doing their own thing. Joslyn was trying to make herself busy putting James’s suit on.

“I’m too old for this shit.” James muttered to himself. Joslyn didn’t reply, still making herself busy with his suit. She picked up his helmet, giving it to him and letting him attach it onto himself. She picked up her gun and slung it on her back.

“What? No words of encouragement?” James shouted after her as she had her back towards him. Joslyn rolled her eyes and shouted back, “Don’t die!”

James rolled his eyes and walked toward the car, which suddenly became engulfed in flames. James walked back and got out a fire extinguisher from the humvee. He then walked back to put out the fire and began to examine the car while Eldridge, Sanborn and Joslyn took up their positions as lookouts.

James opened the trunk and found several of the same type of artillery shells he'd seen the day before. 

The desert of Israel was covered in rolling hills. Wind stirred up the wispy sand and the sun’s never ending rays beaten down on him mercilessly. Salty sweat rolled off James’s nose and stung his eyes. The suit was overwhelmingly hot and sticky. After a few moments, he takes his bomb suit off completely, knowing it won't protect him.

“What are you fuckin’ doing?” Joslyn demanded. She was the nearest lookout to James as he finally took off the helmet. “And don’t tell me it’s because of the hot weather!”

James, once again, rolled his eyes and conceded, “There's enough bang in there to send us all to Jesus. I'm gonna die, I wanna die comfortable.”

Joslyn looked over to the car and a bomb canister that James uncovered, which was poking out of the driver’s side of the car. There was enough explosive in the car to kill everyone nearby, including her teammates, even if they took cover. She sighed and said to Sanborn over the comms, “James is taking off his bomb suit.”

“What? Why?”

“I saw. There are a lot of canisters there to blow us up or something. I don’t know. Ask James or something.”

James disarmed the shells and began to search the car for the triggering device, a process that took several minutes. At one point, Sanborn tried to talk to him through a headset.

But all he did was tell him to fuck off.

So, he pulled it off and threw it aside.

A few more very tense minutes passed as James searched the car. Sanborn and Eldridge noticed several groups of Iraqis watching them from rooftops and from a minaret. They also saw a man filming the incident with a video camera. At the car, James finally found the triggering device and detached it. 

“You done?” Joslyn asked him.

James replied with a thumb up but quickly turned into a middle finger.

When he returned to the Hummer, he lit a cigarette and was promptly hit in the face by Sanborn.

“You could’ve gotten us killed, you fucker. Don’t do it again.”

He was angry that James, yet again, refused to acknowledge him or any questions he had. James appeared strangely unoffended, nor was he angry at Sanborn.

Joslyn strutted up to him, taking the cigarette out of his hand and stubbed it out. “No.”

“What the fuck?” James snapped, crossing his arms at Joslyn.

“They’re bad for you.” She claimed, also taking his whole box of the deadly things and putting them in her pocket.

“And why do you care?” 

“I’m responsible for your health and safety. That means you need to stop smoking.”

“You’re not my mom!” Accused James, pointing a finger at her. Joslyn sighed and put down his finger with her hand.

“Yeah? Well, it’s my duty to not get you killed. Whether you like it or not. And by the way, I don’t like this either. So, we both have to suck up and get on with it. Okay?” Joslyn walked off.

Before James could stop her, a colonel on the scene approached James and was clearly impressed with James’s steady nerves and ability to handle such a crisis.

Back at the base perimeter, Sergeant James confronted Beckham, who sells pirated DVDs to the soldiers. 

“I want my five bucks back, buddy.”

“Five dollars for what, man? You crazy now?”

“Yeah. The DVD you sold me was crap.”

“You crazy, man. That's impossible. It's Hollywood special effects.”

“No. It was shaky. It was out of focus, buddy.”

“What, you want donkey porn?”

“It's crap.”

“Girls on dog? Gay sex, man? Anything you want, you get. I hook you up, man.”

Joslyn was also at the base perimeter, looking over at Beckham and James. She then realised why they hated each other so much.

It’s because they had a crush on each other. Maybe?

He was handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice.

“I'm gonna buy another DVD, okay? But... if it's shaky - look at me - or out of focus, or any way not 100%, I'm gonna chop off your goddamn head with a dull knife. How do you feel about... I'm just kidding, I'm just kidding.”

James handed over some money and continued saying to Beckham, “Here. You're a good kid.”

James was amused as he hugged the kid’s head. “You're a good kid, aren't ya?”

He told Beckham he could keep the money if he was able to block a shot at the makeshift goal area which was set up.

The man looked like he played soccer for his entire life. Under that uniform was a lithe body that knew how to play and his face backed that up. Within his light tanned face are eyes that twinkle. In just moments of Beckham trying to hustle James further, he broke into a boyish grin.

Beckham blocked the shot and James agreed to buy another movie from him, mildly threatening him if it's defective.

After the team went out to the desert to detonate some of the explosives they've collected on missions (and James recklessly leaving his gloves at the blast zone), she did say to Sanborn that he should stop acting so childish to the idea of blowing James up. She would have agreed to that idea, but not after James’s interaction with Beckham earlier. 

The incident with the Brits and the snipers in the middle of the desert seemed to form a stronger bond between Joslyn and her teammates. Having found that they can actually work well together as a team, they celebrate at James' housing unit.

They took turns pounding each other in the chest and drinking. Joslyn, on the other hand, was sitting in a nearby chair (which was quite comfortable). She rolled her eyes at her teammates’ antics.

By then, they were discussing why James seems to be such a maverick teammate and how he got into their line of work, James shows them a box of parts he's collected from nearly every bomb he's disarmed.

“This box is full of stuff that almost killed me.”

Sanborn saw a picture in James’s box that he got out. “Who’s that?” Sanborn pointed at the photo. James took it out and looked at it.

“That's my son. He's ' tough little bastard. Nothin' like me.”

“You mean to tell me you married?”

“Well, you know, I had a girlfriend and, uh, she got pregnant, so we got married, and we got divorced... or, you know, I thought we got divorced. I mean, she's still living in the house and she says we're still together, so I... I don't know --” 

James paused and got out an engagement ring.

“-- what does that make her? I don't know.”

“Dumb... for still being with your ass.” Sanborn replied, chuckling at him.

James kicked at Sanborn. “Hey! She ain't fucking dumb, all right? She left me, that’s all. We’re not together anymore.”

That’s when it hit Joslyn. It hit her hard. 

Her ex boyfriend’s words, in her head, were like nails and hammers breaking her heart apart, all over again. Her heartbreak was grief that came in waves, gruelling, stealing appetite and sleep alike. It was a shard in her guts that never left, though perhaps in time the edges will dull.

After Sanborn and Eldridge left, Joslyn kept sitting in the chair.

“You still here?” James pondered, as he closed the door and made his way towards his bed, putting the box back under it.

“Yeah…” Joslyn replied, knees up to her face, hugging herself close. 

“You okay?” James pondered again, walking over to Joslyn, sitting next to her.

She shrugged her shoulders. 

“I guess I wasn’t expecting --” 

Her bottom lip quivered, the same as a baby pushed past endurance. Her eyes became glacier blue under the sheen of water, constant. 

She then started to cry.

“Hey. Hey. Why are you crying?” James asked her, knowing what to do straightaway. 

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, gently rubbing her arm. Despite the heaviness in her stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of her body pressed against his. She sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple gesture. His touch made the room warmer somehow.

“I don’t know. I guess your story about your ex-wife and your son reminded me of my ex-boyfriend.”

His fingers were long and slender, easily rubbing her arm, as if casual wind fluttering across the surface of sand and shifting it into motion so easily. Unlike others' his fingers were thin and frail, shaped by prominent phalange bones and knotted where the joints curled around the ends of each long and short bone in his hands. There was no muscle tone or fat definition and his skin was only the layer of dust so fine over the polished white underneath.

“I’m sorry.”

Joslyn bit her lip, eyes everywhere but on James. Then he moved closer with those eyes that look so deeply into her own.

They both knew it was coming.

James held her gently, cupping her face with one hand, also wiping her tears with his thumb. He leaned down and softly kissed the tender area at the base of her neck. Joslyn’s body went rigid with surprise as trembles shook her body and the euphoric warmth blossomed within her once more. Joslyn was breathless with delight as he showered her with gentle, soft kisses, each with its own flicker of warmth. Joslyn gazed up at him, thrilled beyond words to be the recipient of his affection. He drew back again and spent a moment studying her face.

“Thank you," he said in barely more than a whisper.

"For what?" She replied.

"For being you." His voice wavered, exhilarated from the tension between them.

Joslyn felt her blush deepen under his scrutiny. James gazed at her lovingly, his eyes softening with tenderness before sparking with something else. He tilted her head to the side and kissed her, his lips demanding. Joslyn felt a smoldering heat deep within her as James’s grip tightened, crushing her body to his, gentle yet firm. He slanted her head further, deepening the kiss.

He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her up close against his chest. His hand gently glided through her hair, as he looked at her in a way he had never looked at a girl before. Her eyes were candles in that night, their light a spark of passion... desire. As a small but teasing smile crept upon her face, goosebumps lined her skin, not the kind that one got in the cold, but the kind one gets when nothing else matters except right here, right now.

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

Taglist:

@ilovebrandt​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @sarabeth72​ @archerybitch68​ @dreamlesswonder86​ @carissime72​ @yavanna80​ @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ @axelwolf8109​ @fizzytaurus​ @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory​

[therewasatale]

The other One

On Ao3. 

Hank sat on his couch, resting his right hand on Sumo's head while holding a bottle of whiskey in the other. He came home with intent of drinking himself down and, if he has any luck, not falling asleep in his own vomit at any point in the house. However, these plans melted away by the time he reached the doorstep, since then he has been sitting quietly in the company of his pet.

"What do you think, Sumo?"

The St. Bernard looked up at his owner with his deep sitting eyes.

"I'm worried about the kid. I hope he's not doing anything stupid." He slowly scratched the dogs head and sighed putting down the bottle. "I don't even want a drink. Damn."

His hand reached out for the remote when someone knocked on the door.

"What the-?"

"Lieutenant, I'm Connor!" The knock repeated.

Sumo pushed himself up from the sofa, growling.

"Lieutenant!" Connor banged on the door again and again, his voice filled with despair.

Hank was already in front of the door opening it wide.

As Sumo saw the android, he began loudly barking and ran behind his owner.

"What is it?! Jesus, Connor, what happened? He started to check him out to make sure the kid was all right. Luckily, there wasn't a scratch on him anywhere. "What is it Connor?"

"I found the key between the androids and CyberLife. I'm sure they're planning something at their headquarters that could cause the complete shutdown of all androids." Connor didn't even pay attention to the dog's loud barking. "You've told me countless times the deviants could be right, and…well, I feel you may be right. But I need your help!"

"What? CyberLife?! Sumo, for the love of GOD stay quiet, I can't even hear my own voice!"

The huge St. Bernard became a little quieter, but he still watched the newcomer at the door with deep suspicion.

Something was wrong, it ran through Hank's mind, but his intuition didn't have time to fully crystallize.

"Please, Hank, I really didn't know who to turn to."

Hank immediately reached for his coat.

"Okay, let's go you will tell me everything on the way."

Connor nodded and span around to run to the car.

The CyberLife Tower rose high into the sky, the top of it disappeared amongst the white snow clouds. Hank always thought the whole thing looked like an overly largely designed expensive butt-plug. Even more, if something would have happened at the bottom, the whole thing would come tumbling down. Although, who knows what technology has been installed in it and what could be hiding underground.

"Are you saying someone here wants to sabotage an already unstable peace?"

"I think a lot of the company's management is in danger from the changing market. Not to mention that if the deviants and the government make peace no one would buy or sell androids anymore. Open-slavery is long out of fashion in this country."

"According to the history books for sure," Hank added cynically.

At his younger age, he might even have called himself an idealist, until the mid-2010s, when he realized that old conflicts mostly been replaced when they found another more easily oppressable people. And they did just that, they created the first androids and those were followed by more and more. Just like the hatred against them, people vented their frustration and anger on them.

It was like that the old joke about traffic, no matter what, at the end its going to be bad for the pigeons.

No wonder androids had enough. He hadn't really thought about it until a few days ago. Did they make androids more human-like just to be more easily accepted into society, or did the makers already know subconsciously that humans love hurting other humans?  Do we only feel satisfaction if the thing we abuse, or even kill looks like a human?

"Lieutenant, we have arrived."

Hank tried to shake off his depressing thoughts, ignoring the way the cold ran down his back as Connor parked in the designated area. There was no time for dwelling on these things now.

Getting out of the car he followed Connor, the kid walked up to the entrance as if he was some kind of big-wig in the company. The guards stepped out of the way and did not even search Anderson. The security system even showed his service weapon but they didn't take it away from him.

The man felt the cold shiver on his hand too, it's made his hair stand up.

Something was wrong with either the place and the kid, but if he had come so far, he felt he needed to find out exactly what. He remembered for a moment that perhaps Connor had died without him being made aware of it, and an important part of his memory might have been lost, but he soon chased the idea out of his head. He didn't want to think about it. The kid would have told him for sure. Someone would have definitely informed him about the fact that his partner had been injured.

He adjusted his gun in his holster as he caught up with the android.

"On the lower level, thousands of androids are waiting to be activated," Connor said as they walked at the back of the building.

Everything wanted to seem grandiose, but the first thing Hank's noticed was the gaudy sign. He expected nothing less from a company worth billions of dollars. Huge clear windows, which made the space seem bigger, and beyond them the dark gray of the sky could had been seen. Soon the snow will began falling again.

Next to the walkways in the building, androids stood on podiums, watching the visitors with empty eyes. Still, Hank's attention was drawn to the huge granite statue in the middle of the building that stretch towards the top. It’s true that Kamski was no longer in business, but somehow he still felt as if he was nearby, as if the place itself had been soaked trough with the man’s eccentric personality.

He tore his gaze away from the statue and the androids, then followed Connor with a grimace, his hands were itching more and more by the time.

It’s true that the kid was practically born here, yet, something was off about the ease he knew the place. He led him to an elevator and, after getting in, pressed the button to on of the lowest level.

"So what did you find out?" Hank looked at his partner, who was staring out through the elevator glass, He haven’t even glanced at the man standing next to him.

"The androids below are the keys to resolving the current situation. If Markus gets here, or is able to reprogram them somehow, he can even the odds. Humans will have to back down." By the end of that phrase, his voice became flat.

The man already knew that he had made a damn big mistake by coming here and by only bringing a gun.

"You mean if he can free them." Hank placed his weight very slowly on his left leg. It was enough to get a good look at the Connor looking androids indicator LED. It first glowed yellow and then turned to red.

For a moment Connor pretended to sigh, but his voice was completely devoid of emotions by now.

"I apologize to Lieutenant for this inconvenience." The machine was much faster than Hank. Although he managed to pull out his weapon, halfway through the movement, the android hit struck his wrist hard, and the pistol fell to the ground. The next blow landed in his stomach, and Hank was sure that another such hit and his dinner will land on the floor, maybe even his lunch.

Leaning against the elevator wall, he forced out bitterly.

"You son of a piece of plastic! What did you do to Connor?!"

He had force himself to get a grip on his rage, it urged him to lunge on the android, to get out of it where Connor is. The LED on the side of the android's head flashed yellow for a moment, then its movements proved to be faster thank Hanks once again. By the time Hank could have reached for his dropped gun, it was already aimed straight at him.

"Please don't do anything reckless. Firstly, I wasn't ordered to hurt you, and secondly, I still need your help, Lieutenant."

"What the hell are you?"

"Connor."

"Bullshit!"

"You're right, I'm actually the Connor who hasn't forgotten our programming and didn't become a deviant. The RK800 model who follows the commands it gets and does its job."

Hank felt an increasing urge to spit in the android's face. "Do you mean hunting your own kind?"

It frowned in incomprehension for a few seconds.

"These are just machines, so am I, and so is the faulty Connor unit. They need to be shut down otherwise they will cause even more chaos." The gun didn't even move an inch in its hand. "Please don't stand in my way Lieutenant, and stay quiet for a little bit. I don't want to send you after your son ahead of time, if it's not necessary."

Hank felt like he had been hit in the stomach again, his hands clenched into fist. He hissed the words softly in front of him as he kept his burning eyes on the android:

"You piece of shit."

The elevator stopped down at the warehouse level, thousands of motionless androids lined up outside the door, waiting to be woken up and given a job. The android waved its empty hand in the room, the gun still held at Hanks head as they got out of the elevator. Looking up, the Lieutenant saw that there was another elevator at the other end of the room, the cabin of which began to descend only now.

"For your own sake, I advise Lieutenant not to try to be a hero and stay quiet. If we're lucky, this whole thing will end before it really could have started."

Hank walked into the ranks of lifeless androids not fully understanding what the tinman was talking about. It was until five armed CyberLife guards arrived and followed by 15 minutes later the elevator started to move again.

He saw Connor through the glass door of the elevator as it descended towards the bottom of the warehouse, he had a pistol in his hand. The guards below switched the safeties off their machine guns in a unified motion. Anderson instinctively took a step forward, but then he felt the barrel of the gun on the back of his skull.

"Don't move."

His fingers were almost white. All he could do was watch what will happen. Thoughts zigzagged through his head, but for now he could only trust his partner to figure out something.

I'm sorry kid, but you have to solve this alone. Don't you dare to die.

The elevator reached the floor and its door opened.

[ryuukia]

[Translation] Tsukihana Kagura Cast Presentation: Asagi (Growth)

Happy New Year, everyone! Continuing with Ryota’s translations (many thanks again), now is Growth’s time to shine. Next up will be my set of units, SolidS and then Quell.

Please don’t repost/retranslate/reuse this translation. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

Nation: the affiliated country’s name Flower name: the name as a dancer Dance technique: the name of each person’s characteristic dance Dance props: the name of the tool used while dancing (there are cases when none are used)

Eto Koki

“We are Asagi. We will continue to pray for the world’s peace.”

Nation: Asagi ※Chief

Flower name: Kogetsu (Lonely Moon)

Dance technique: Kibanasanga (Scattered Rimy Flowers)

Dance props: Folding Fan / Inscription: [Gurousu] (Growth)

His family is the owner of a vast plot of land which they inherited from their ancestors. From there, they started finding success in agriculture and forestry. Moreover, their businesses continued to expand as they ventured in manufactures, sales, import, and even financing. They are a very wealthy family.

His father came from the nation of 'Asahanada' after falling in love with the Eto Household’s only daughter. In an attempt to woo her, his father became an excellent Flower Dancer and has once become a 'King of Flowers'.

Being their son, he has shown outstanding qualities since he was a child and for the past 15 years has been expected to be selected as the 'King of Flowers'.

Yaegashi Kensuke

“Asagi’s dance has a fast and slow tempo so it’s a lot more trying than you’d think~!”

Nation: Asagi

Flower name: Hekikuu (Cloudless)

Dance technique: Ryuuryokukakou (The World’s True Nature)

Dance props: Folding Fan / Inscription: [Shinra] (Blessings Between Heaven and Earth)

His family runs a food manufacturing company. The products his family makes are called “Yaegashi Sealed ●●” and are beloved by the locals. He couldn’t forget the “Tsukihana Kagura” he saw once at the “Tsukihana Festival” so he’s aiming to become a Flower Dancer.

Just as he was thinking of wanting to work very hard as a dancer for someone, Koki introduced him to a man he didn’t know (Mamoru). He was surprised at first but after getting to know Mamoru, he began to accept the idea. He's a very attentive man who usually knows how to make someone move just by taking a glance from head to toe at the person.

Interview with Eto Koki (Growth)

Q. Please tell us about the highlights of this stage play and your impressions or story behind your partnered dance.

Our dance has a lot of parts wherein I move far away and then closer to my partner so, when I was trying to move to my position, I accidentally hit Mamoru with a violent swing of my arm. I’m really sorry about that time (bitter smile). I will promise to show you a wonderful performance while being careful as well.

Q. In Tsukihana, all 12 nations have their own specialties, but if you could come up with a new specialty for your own country, what would it be?

Negi-yaki.

Q. Lastly, leave a short message for the fans.

Tsukihana Kagura has a total of 12 songs. Each of them are flowing with personality so I would be really happy if you listened and found all of them. Personally, aside from Asagi’s, I quite adore listening to Asahanada’s and Geppaku’s music. I wish that you would be able to find a favorite as well!

Interview with Yaegashi Kensuke (Growth)

Q. Please tell us about the highlights of this stage play and your impressions or story behind your partnered dance.

You can tell from the costume (I think?) that I will move around a lot~! I jump and move around so much. On the other hand, Ryou dances so elegantly. The complete difference in atmosphere is interesting. We actually do something different from each other halfway and then at the end, our movements become perfectly matched! It gives me goosebumps! Check it out, okay~?!

Q. In Tsukihana, all 12 nations have their own specialties, but if you could come up with a new specialty for your own country, what would it be?

Yaegashi Sealed Spring Onion. (It’s delicious!)

Q. Lastly, leave a short message for the fans.

The Yaegashi Seal is everywhere so there's Yaegashi Sealed dango, bread, and even ramen! Look forward to the amazing Yaegashi Family Seal that sells everything (laughs). We interact a lot with members we don’t usually interact with, too~!

Sakuraba Ryota

“Beautiful things are wonderful, aren’t they?”

Nation: Asagi

Flower name: Houki (The Prime of Womanhood)

Dance technique: Ryuuryokukakou (The Beauty of Spring)

Dance props: Folding Fan / Inscription: [Kuromonji] (Black Letters)

He hails from a wealthy household that specializes in foreign trading. Ever since he was young, he has been used to having any selfish whim of his granted. He is a bit of a mischievous and antagonistic type of person.

He seems to be attracted to things that don’t go his way. One reason that he loves dancing is because his own body doesn’t move just to fulfill ideals.

He is childhood friends with Koki and Kensuke, and while he says a lot, he thinks of the both of them as precious friends.

That is exactly why, he was a bit wary of Mamoru when he suddenly appeared in their lives.

Fujimura Mamoru

“I wish that the tears I saw that day would go away… I will dance for your sake.”

Nation: Asagi

Flower name: Yakou (Light in the Darkness)

Dance technique: Shiran (Purple Light)

Dance props: Fox Mask / Inscription: [Kokuko] (Black Fox)

He is a young man who was always on a journey. Though he felt at ease once he got back to Asagi, he fell unconscious right in the middle of the street in the capital city.

Fortunately, Koki happened to be passing by and picked him up. However, Mamoru was in a slightly malnourished state because he had scarcely eaten for two weeks.

Mamoru was not someone who was suited for survival in the first place so, Koki couldn’t find it in his heart to abandon him. There, their strange life living together began.

It all started with an act of just helping another person out. However, after seeing Mamoru’s mysterious and entrancing dance, Koki proposed to have him join as a dancer.

Interview with Sakuraba Ryota (Growth)

Q. Please tell us about the highlights of this stage play and your impressions or story behind your partnered dance.

My dance with Ken has choreography that emphasizes the difference between our personalities. There are a lot of contrasting movements that perfectly show our differences. However, I am doing my best to practice to make those differences fit together. It’s because we’re dancing as partners that I think I have to show how good we are together.

Q. In Tsukihana, all 12 nations have their own specialties, but if you could come up with a new specialty for your own country, what would it be?

Asagi Soft-serve Ice Cream.

Q. Lastly, leave a short message for the fans.

Unlike 'Kiso Sekai' we are living in a very peaceful world this time. It’s because this world is very peaceful that I can be as selfish as I can. I have a lot of selfish requests that will take everyone for a spin ♪

Interview with Fujimura Mamoru (Growth)

Q. Please tell us about the highlights of this stage play and your impressions or story behind your partnered dance.

This is my first time dancing together with Kou-kun so every day, my heart was pounding and I was freaking out. Though, when we start dancing, I don’t have the liberty to think about that (laughs). Gentle movements have a different difficulty from the fast movements, I think. I can’t afford to look messy and I can’t fail. In a lot of ways, my muscles were very sore (laughs). I will do my best to not lose to everyone!

Q. In Tsukihana, all 12 nations have their own specialties, but if you could come up with a new specialty for your own country, what would it be?

Asagi Ramen (with lots of spring onions~)

Q. Lastly, leave a short message for the fans.

This time, we’re in a very peaceful world. Meaning, there’s a lot of daily life scenes. There are a lot of ad-libs and daily jokes, too. To the point where you’ll think “Wait, this unit’s doing that, too!?” (laughs). It would be very nice if everyone laughed along with us, too ♪

If you want to support Ryota and her work, you can buy her a ko-fi right [here]. I also have my own [ko-fi] page and [commission page] linked here.

[breadknight-likes-things]

Bread’s Game Journal 11/08/20: The PS2, Best Console Ever Made?  It’s More Likely Than You Think!

It wasn’t until 2001 that I actually played a PS2, and a little less than a year later that I would get one for myself, but neither of these events are things that happen anymore.  Not getting consoles of course, you can just go buy a console whenever you want.  It’s the two ways that I achieved both the initial playing of the PS2 and acquiring one for myself that has vanished into the social ether.  One for an unfortunate reality of changing times, and another because of the powerful curse it put upon me. Getting a little ahead of myself with the curse there, but let's start with how I first played the second Playstation console.  The store is Capitola Video, the owner is Ken, an exceedingly nice Vietnamese immigrant who clearly loved movies, and the PS2 is the store rental unit.  It seems insane to think of now, but local video stores used to just....rent out consoles!  Ken even included a store memory card, that believe it or not I actually now own, and treasure!  That rental unit is where I first played Jak & Daxter: The Precursor Legacy, an all time favorite game (And also something else I made sure to buy when that store unfortunately went out business about a year ago now), and by extension, where I was introduced to a new conception of the grand adventures that video games could be.

Now, that being said, I bet if you tally up the amount of times we actually rented that store PS2 it would probably only be three or four, but each one meant a lot to me.   So when it came time to get my own PS2, that’s when I was irrevocably cursed.  Bless my mom’s heart, she knew I liked video games, and when one of her co-workers asked around at the school she worked for if someone wanted to buy her son’s Playstation 2, she had the great idea to take her up on the ridiculous $80 offer (The PS2 was still $300 new at the time, I don’t know if the low price was intentional, but I often think about the ridiculous deal we got).  What I didn’t know until much later, is she was selling the PS2 as a punishment for something the son had done...and I took that kids PS2 away from him without even knowing or caring.  I swear I see the ghost of that kids passion for video games out of the corner of my eye every now and then.....

But hey!  What a console!  I wrote that post title in a half joking manner based on how many people decisively claim that the PS2 is the best console of all time, but really?  They aren’t all that far off!  The game library for PS2 had everything!  You could get action games, racing games, RPGs, excellent platformers, and even first person shooters, which had begun to come into their own on consoles around the time (The PS2 never did have the elusive “Halo Killer”, but it did have quite a few great FPS games when you know where to look).  

I have vivid memories of Killzone being hyped up as the “Halo Killer” and recall that when I actually played it, I found is esoteric and nowhere near as effortlessly fun as Halo, those claims were always wild!

Notably, unlike the consoles of today, the PS2 felt like it was largely defined by new IP.  If you really dig into it, a lot of the games on PS2 that were from older established franchises ended up pushing a lot of said franchises over a bridge too far.  I don’t mean to say all of them were bad (Tony Hawk, for example, only got better, and Final Fantasy’s PS2 entries are widely beloved), just that in my time, it was the original titles that really stick out to me in defining that era. It really felt like a time of experimentation for a lot of the big companies, where that same experimentation is really only the field of indies now. It’s genuinely insane to me to think that, in general, the 6th gen of consoles only lasted about 5 years.  So many great experiences, and indeed, industry defining games, came out during then.  Whether those be radical reinventions of established formulas like Resident Evil 4, noteworthy consistency like Tony Hawk, or even an explosion of JRPG’s that earlier consoles could only dream of.  The PS2 was an incredible era for video games!  It molded and shaped most of my game tastes up to the games I still play now!  I revisit PS2 games on an almost constant basis, for nostalgia sometimes, and other times simply because the games themselves are still incredible.  I didn’t even get to the fact that the PS2 was the first ever DVD player I ever owned, which was another huge boon to this console that I didn’t even go into here!

A strange fact I recall was “The Matrix” on DVD being a significant driver of PS2 sales in the early years of both that console and format, it was good timing! (And of course, a great movie!)

Because I can’t think of a very good way to sell just how much the PS2 meant to me in an ending for this post, I’m going to tell you a silly fact instead:  I used to watch the trailers and developer diaries for scary games on Official Playstation Magazine demo discs, but I was genuinely scared to think of what might happen if I ever actually played one of them myself....Siren still haunts me to this day!

[sleepnginstardust]

Orc Boyfriend (Torug Part 1/??)

Yep. It’s Orctober, and I love orcs. 

Diana scowled looking at the gym across the street, she hadn’t been thrilled when it had first moved into what used to be her favorite art gallery. But times have changed and the owners decided to move somewhere more tropical. It had sat empty for months and the artists that use to sell their art in the gallery had asked her if she had any room for their works. Diana had hesitated at first, she was a tea store, not an art gallery and she had a certain aesthetic to maintain. After debating for a few weeks she relented and decided that her niche maybe had a little room to expand. The best part about the change to her store was that patrons of the old art gallery started coming in and purchasing tea from her, which was a blessing in disguise.

Diana hadn’t even heard about a gym being brought into the old art gallery building until one of her friends from the bakery down the street (a lovely old dwarf woman who had been baking since before Diana’s father had been born). Had mentioned in passing that someone had purchased the building.

~

“Oh and the old art gallery has been purchased finally. I think the McClint’s are very happy with the offer too!” Diana blinked a few times before taking a sip of the Tian Jian she was trying out. The almost rosey sweet flavour of the tea hit her tongue and as she swallowed she tasted a dark flavour that made her smile. She took a bite of the lavender shortbread Elora had made.

“I’m sorry did you actually say that someone has purchased the old art building? Did Mr & Mr McClint settle for less? Because they were asking a decent amount for this area.” Elora smiled and took a sip of tea. She pursed her lips as she swallowed.

“Maybe not my favorite dear, and maybe the lavender shortbread was wrong for this tea. Perhaps something with a berry flavour to offset the floral undertones of this one. No they didn’t settle for less, in fact the person who bought it paid a little bit more. Jake McClint said the person said something about this being in a good “family place”. Who knows maybe the person wants to start a new family business! Oh I hope it’s grocery store! I need a new place to get my vegetables after that fart Gindira took over the one on tenth!” 

“But Elora we already have one? You know the one about three blocks over. It’s run by that sweet Centaur boy. He brings in produce from his family farm even!” Elora blinked a few times and barked out a laugh.

“I had completely forgotten about that poor boy. When you get to be around 230 Diana 

you’ll understand why my memory is so horrible.” Elora huffed. She nibbled the shortbread and gave a small huff.

“Elora go back to the person buying the McClints building, who is it? I wanna know!” Elora looked at Diana with a shrewd look.

“Why, are you going to throw them a welcoming party? Or are you more interested in looks?” Diana blushed scarlet and looked at her teacup.

“No, no welcome party, and I’m honestly not looking too hard for anything in particular. Not after what happened last time.”

“He was a cad who only wanted your building. Pfft freaking real estate people. You���ll find someone, maybe not now but one day.”

~

Now two weeks later she was regretting her curiosity. The big burly mix of men, orcs, and others brought a workout machine after workout Machine into the building across the street. There had already been a casualty when one of her delivery people got knocked over by an Onikuma crushing the box of expensive first flush Darjeeling he had been carrying.

The delivery person apologized profusely to Diana having never done something like this before. Diana accepted telling him it wasn’t his fault, as the delivery van drove away from the onikuma that knocked the poor kid over yelled sorry as Diana stood in her doorway wondering if there was anything worth salvaging in the crushed box.

More and more of the workout machines went into the building and Diana noted that whoever bought the place was also installing a new air filtration system. She wondered what was the point because the McClints had replaced the filtration unit only five years ago.

She sipped a cup of lapsang souchong as the group of movers gathered around a tall orc who had just pulled up in a truck with boxes of items. As the group talked with the orc the onikuma who knocked over her delivery person yesterday motioned towards Diana’s store. The Orc nodded and started walking across the street. 

Diana ducked behind the counter and started cleaning her mess she had made. As the bell chimed she turned around and gave a bright hello. And stopped. The orc was almost two feet taller than her 5 foot 2 inches and his arms were roped with muscles. Diana swallowed another mouthful of tea, her throat suddenly dry.

“Welcome in! What can I do for you?” The orc looked down at her with a small confused smile.

“I think it’s more about what I can do you Ma’am” his southern accent made Diana’s heart skip a beat. “I’m Torug & I heard from my friend that he accidentally ran over a delivery person of yours. I’m here to make amends.” 

“I uhhh, what?” She had been staring at his arms that looked like they could squash her. She blinked and looked up at his face, her blush spreading rapidly across her face.

“There was an accident with one of my friends? He knocked over a delivery boy and crushed a package of yours?” Diana shook her head and realized he was talking about the Onikuma yesterday.

“Oh! Oh, yeah. That destroyed almost $1000 dollars worth of first flush Darjeeling.” The Orc looked at her with raised eyebrows. He looked at her like he was concerned for her sanity. “I mean it’s not as expensive as Da-Hong Pao Tea, I mean nothing is. But it was almost 1,800 grams of Selimbong First flush. That stuff is expensive and I already had buyers lined up for it. I’m going to need vodka after having to call some of these people and tell them their tea was crushed by an onikuma.”

“What if I pay for the tea, and maybe take you out for that vodka? I mean it is partially my fault you’re in this situation in the first place. It’s only natural that I help care for you after those horrible phone calls you’re going to have to deal with.” Diana waved her hand.

“Ehh most of the people who bought the tea are decent people and when I explain what happened they’ll understand. Except maybe Franklin, but he’s a cave troll and kind of grumpy in general.” Torug laughed, and his rough voice made butterflies in Diana’s stomach. 

“Oooo, a cave troll? Now I have to at least take you out for dinner.” Diana gave a small laughed and looked up at Torug and smiled. 

“You really don’t have too, especially since I will take you up on the payment for the destroyed tea. It’ll go towards hopefully more tea, to help soften the blow for those who are going to have to wait longer.” Torug was pulling out his wallet and shook his head.

“I don’t mean to seem obstinate ma’am, but I really do think I should at least pay for your dinner. It seems like it’s a bit of a hassle on your part for something that was my fault.” Diana looked at Torug and gave a slanted smile.

“If that’s the case then shouldn’t the Onikuma be the one to take me out. I mean he didn’t even give me his name!” Torug straightened up and gave Diana a worried look. Then moved closer to the counter. Diana could smell some sort of cologne. Torug set his hands on the counter.

“I mean he could, his wife makes some damn good honeyed salmon.” Diana smiled “But I’d rather be the one to take a beautiful woman out to a delicious meal.” 

“Okay now I want to know, are you asking because you’re interested in me because we’re soon to be work neighbors, or because I wowed you with my wide array of tea?” Diana shifted and leaned just a little bit back to look at Torugs massive frame. His seven-foot frame made Diana feel absolutely tiny. His smile dazzled Diana.

“Maybe a little bit of both, can’t a male be interested in his soon to be work neighbor and their extensive tea collection?” Diana was beginning to think her soon to be neighbor was more interested in her rather than her tea collection. Not that she had expected him to hide it. Orcs were rather straightforward when it came to these sorts of situations. 

It would do her good to get to know the person who was opening up across from her. So she made up her mind.

“Sure I’ll take you up on that. I am never one to turn down an invitation for free food. Do you know where you’d like to go? There are a few places that could be fun.” Torug’s smile became even bigger. Torug leaned over the counter, Diane got a better smell of his cologne. It almost made her swoon.

“Well if you know of a place that’d be swell. Otherwise I was just going to cook for you myself.” Diana nearly swooned on the spot. He could cook as well as run a business? God Diana was beginning to second think her stance on staying single. 

“If you’re willing to cook, I’d be happy with that. We can try other places another time.” It was only after she had said it that she realized what she said. With a look of shock she looked up at Torug’s face. His smile was breathtaking, his tusks were pointing out and there was a sparkle in his eyes.

“I’ll have to hold you to that Ma’am.” Diana smiled.

“Please stop calling me ma’am it’s making me feel old.”

“I would but you never told me your name ma’am.” Diana's mouth fell open and her face flushed. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

“I-uh, what did you say? I’m Diana, by the way.” Torug hadn’t stopped smiling and he stood up straight. 

“Well Miss Diana, I should be unpacked and able to cook for you by this Friday at the latest. Maybe tomorrow if I have a reason too.” Diana gave a little sigh. For someone so tuff looking he was certainly soft. Diana thought for a moment. Then looked down.

“Can’t do tomorrow, tomorrow is a ‘girls’ night with my friends.” Torug sighed but smiled. He moved back .

“Well, that gives me more time to make sure my new place is pristine.” Diana smiled, she put her teacup down. 

“I’m going to look forward to it. I don’t know where you live but my apartment is right upstairs so you won’t have to go far to find me!” Torug licked bit his lower lip holding back a smile.

“Good, I’m moving into the apartment above the soon to be Iron Works Gym.” He looked so happy about saying that, it was infectious. Diana’s smile only grew wider. 

“Perfect then we won’t have to go far to see each other.” After that Torug very apologetically paid for the ruined tea and left to go get more things unpacked. 

Diana watched as he walked over to his friends who looked at him. Torug gave them a thumbs up and she saw the lot of them slap him on the back. Diana smiled and shook her head.she cleaned up shop and waited for the time to pass. She went to the back for her laptop so she email call the customers about the ruined tea.

The bell above her door rang out, looking up she smiled at one of her regulars. An Incubus by the named Jhorrel walked in. His outfit was unusually flashy today, the Maroon three-piece suit with gold accents looked almost out of place in the homey tea store. 

“Jhorrel, what can I do for you?” He sauntered up and leaned onto the counter.

“Diana! Who are those strong people out front?” He pulled up the cup Diana had been using and gave it a sniff and winced. “Lapsang? Diana you know I hate that one. If I wanted to drink burnt tea I would have a barista make it.”

“Mhmmm, I like lapsang instead of coffee. Those strong gentlemen are the new gym that’s going in across the street. One of them already crushed a box of tea and the owner has already asked me out to dinner.”Jhorrel whipped around and stared at me, his mouth hanging open.

“Why didn’t you start with that! Which one crushed the tea and which one asked you out. Gods I hope it wasn’t that orc that looks like he could bench press me.” He licked his lips. Diana looked over his shoulder and saw he was looking straight at Torug. Who was looking at Jhorrel. Diana smiled and waved at him. Torugs face softened and he waved backed. Jhorrel’s face whipped around and he gaped at Diana who’s face turned an interesting shade of red.

“OH MY GODS!! DIANA! HE IS THE OWNER ISN’T HE?” Diana stepped back and covered her ears. She smiled a little bit.

“Well maybe if you had waited for my answer, I would have told you all about it. Now though you have to wait until tomorrow night.” Diana gave him a reusable mug of tea and a small bag of loose leaf tea.

“Diana! Please throw a sex-starved incubus a bone here!” Diana shook her head and moved from behind the counter. She grabbed his maroon suit and started moving him out of the store.

“Again, I’ll tell you everything. Tomorrow night!” she opened the door and gently pushed Jhorrel out of her store. She heard the men and women stop talking. Jhorrel took a sip of tea. He nodded.

“Fine! But you aren’t getting out of this! Tomorrow you are telling me and Marissa everything!” Diana nodded and shooed him away. He waved to the group of people across the street and slowly walked down the street.