#they are so far out of their depth but they do their best and bryn gets a combo of clone etiquette and alaenor's guardian of the whills phil

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Ghost Story - Chapter 30

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 1981

Warnings: Mention of death, a lot of grief

Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.

Notes: The chapters/large parts in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Penny's Interlude I Wish I Had A Hundred Years

****

Maverick

Hangman was released first thing the following morning. He suited up for training before Ghost could even ask if he was feeling okay. They spent most of the day in the air, practicing their usual routines with the course runs and dogfighting before ending it at two so they could go home and freshen up before going out on the water to spread Charlie's ashes. 

The four met at the designated dock, and Rooster led them to a sleek bowrider with the name 'Juliette' embossed in a shimmering, dark blue cursive on the side. Maverick recognized it immediately. "Isn't this Ice's boat?"

"Yeah, I learned how to drive it a while ago," Rooster replied, hopping onto the craft and offering his hand to Ghost to help her in. "Bryn gave me a refresher during our brief dating stint."

"Oh, shit," Ghost groaned, running a hand through her hair. "I haven't told her about Mom..."

"Bryn knows. I told her about it today. She'll be waiting for us at the dock when we return," Rooster said, gently rubbing her back. Ghost made no further comment, only clutched her mom's ashes closer to her chest. Maverick and Hangman hopped into the boat, and while the latter joined Rooster at the steering wheel, Maverick joined Ghost in the front and took a seat next to her. Neither said a word. They simply stared out over the calm waters accompanied by a cool breeze. In the distance, a large squadron of fighters could be seen soaring above the base. 

For over an hour, Rooster drove the boat into the horizon, only stopping when no other craft could be seen for miles nearby. He and Hangman made their way up to the front to join the other two pilots. They stood together with Ghost in the middle, flanked by Hangman and Maverick, and Rooster closely at her six.

"Would you like to say a few words?" Hangman inquired gently, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. When Ghost failed to respond, he asked, "Would you like me to say something?"

Ghost nodded shakily. Hangman cleared his throat and began, "We're gathered here today to honor the extraordinary life of Charlotte 'Charlie' Winchester, a woman who never wavered in what she believed in and always chased after her dreams. Charlie accomplished many things in her lifetime, more than most could ever hope for, but by far, the achievement she was most proud of was being a mother to Annalise 'Ghost' Winchester and Mia 'Ghoul' Winchester, and her spirit lives on in Ghost, visible in her daughter's tenacity, calm, and strength through the most difficult of times. The world won't be the same without you, Charlie, but we will all do our best to make you proud."

The words seemed to spill forth from Rooster's mouth before he could stop them. "Thank you, Charlie, for taking me in on the holidays when I thought I had nowhere or no family to go to. Thank you for supporting and pushing me, and for always reaching out to check on me. I'll miss those random calls I'd get from you just to say hi and make sure I was doing okay. Thank you for being a second mom to me."

Maverick gulped, feeling he had to say something but having no idea where to start. His words came out jumbled but genuine. "Our time together was fleeting, but you changed my life. You taught me to go for what I wanted and never stop. You were there for me in my darkest hours after Goose died, and for that, I can never repay you. I'll take over watching Ghost. I promise to treat and protect her as if she were my own daughter, so rest easy, Charlie. I've got it from here."

Ghost stepped forward and knelt down on the cushioned bench. She unscrewed the lid of the urn and carefully tipped the jar over. As the ashes of Charlotte Winchester blew over the Pacific, Ghost whispered, "Inis vitae sed non amoris."

She stepped back, clutching the now-empty urn. Ghost took a shuddering breath and bowed her head. The four pilots then saluted the deceased loved one. Out of the corner of his eye, Maverick noticed Rooster turn around to look at something before gently placing his hands on Ghost's shoulders and saying, "Look up."

Maverick, Ghost, and Hangman did as Rooster said, just in time to see seven F-18s fly above them, the second on the right from the middle pulling up into the sky while their comrades continued on.

"The Daggers found out about Charlie and thought it wasn't the best to overwhelm you by suddenly showing up on the dock, but they still wanted to be there for you for this," Hangman said, staring off after the jets. 

"So they got permission from Cyclone to perform a modified missing man formation," Rooster finished. For a few seconds, Ghost made no movement, no sound, only stared at the F-18s disappearing into the distance. Then, in the blink of an eye, the composed facade evaporated. Ghost crumpled in on herself, dropping her head as the tears and quiet sobs spilled out. Her legs gave out from underneath her, and she would've collapsed to the floor had all three men not rushed to grab her. Maverick reacted the quickest, wrapping his arms firmly around Ghost to support her and keep her upright. Hangman and Rooster each placed a hand on her back to let her know they were there for her. For a few minutes, they stood there and let Ghost release her pent-up grief, having pushed it down the last few days to focus on training for the mission. When she finally gathered some of her composure, she turned to Rooster and Hangman, giving each of them a tight hug and saying, "Thank you for all of this."

"No matter what, we're always here for you," Rooster promised, kissing her cheek. He glanced at the rapidly setting sun. "It's probably a good idea for us to head back before it gets too dark. Why don't you and Mav stay here? Hangman and I will get us back."

The two young pilots maneuvered back to the steering wheel while Maverick and Ghost sat down on the cushioned benches, the latter all but collapsing onto them. Maverick reached over and grabbed her hand. "Was that too much? The flyover and-"

"No, no, it was- it was amazing. That's not-" Ghost wiped the tears from her face- "I think between the words spoken for her, pouring her ashes out, the flyover, it just cemented that she's really gone. My last family member is gone, and while I know I have all these people here to support me and be there for me, I-"

"Feel alone?" Maverick finished understandingly.

"Yeah..."

"That will pass. It helps that you at least recognize you have people here for you. It's harder to put yourself back together when you don't realize that."

"Did you?" Ghost asked quietly. "When Goose died?"

"Yeah, but I think like you, I felt like I couldn't go to any of them, either because I didn't feel close enough to them or I didn't want to burden them more than I felt I already had, even though they would've wanted me to have gone to them. When you have no blood family, your friends become family, and sometimes, those bonds are even stronger. Those friends will be your rock when things get tough and times get dark."

Ghost bowed her head, fiddling with the hem of her black dress. "I don't want to burden them... especially you and Bryn. I swear, every time I see you, I have some new crisis on my hands, and you're the closest thing I've had to a dad since my own passed away. I don't want you thinking that my life is constantly one big mess and that every time I come to you, I have a problem I need help with."

"Isn't that what dads are for? Blood or adopted?" Maverick squeezed her hand. "I'm honored you trust me with your problems, whatever they may be, and that you come to me for advice, although some people may question your judgment on that."

Albeit small, Ghost laughed, warming Maverick's heart. It'd been a while since he'd heard that. "Yeah, well, I question theirs. You haven't led me astray yet, so if you don't mind, I'll continue coming to you when I need it."

"My door is always open. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What did you say when you spread Charlie's ashes?" Maverick queried, gripping the side of the boat when Rooster hit a wave. Bradley shouted a sheepish, "Sorry!" 

Ghost curled her legs underneath her. "It was Latin for 'the end of life but not of love.' Mom said it at Ghoul and Dad's funerals. I-I thought it was fitting for hers."

Maverick smiled softly. "The end of life but not of love. I like that."

"I'm hoping that's the last time I have to say it for a while."

"You expecting to say it again soon?"

"With the mission coming up? Yeah, I do..."

"Have you decided who you're taking yet?"

"Not a clue. I was hoping the dogfighting would make it crystal clear for me, but I swear it's only made the decision even more difficult. I don't know what to do, Mav."

"Decide a different day," he told her. "Today, let yourself grieve your mom and face that problem another time."

"I think that's good advice." Ghost gave him a small smile, then glanced out over the ocean and the setting sun. The two fell silent for the rest of the trip, mulling over the events of today and the events of the future. Maverick found himself repeatedly glancing over at Ghost to check on her. No more tears rolled down her cheeks, but a deep sadness resided in her blue eyes, one he understood all too well could only pass with time.

When Rooster pulled up to the dock, Bryn was waiting for them. She drew Ghost into a hug the moment her friend stepped afoot onto solid ground. Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster let the women have their moment, securing the boat to ensure it didn't float away. By the time they were done, Bryn and Ghost had pulled apart, both misty-eyed.

"I'll take it from here, boys," Bryn said, wrapping an arm around Ghost's shoulders. "Thanks for taking care of her and the boat today."

"Any time. Thanks for letting us use the boat," Rooster responded, his gaze resting on Ghost. "Call us if you need anything, okay?"

"Thank you again. For everything," Ghost said sincerely, shuffling over and hugging the boys one more time. "I really do appreciate it."

"We're always here for you. We'll see you tomorrow at training," Maverick told her.

The groups began to part ways, but Ghost suddenly exclaimed, "Wait, Mav! I have something for you."

Maverick waited while Ghost dug in her purse. Finally, she pulled out an envelope and handed it to him. "What's this?"

"A letter that mom wrote to you. It was in the box of her belongings that Wolfman sent me. I meant to give it to you yesterday, but-"

"I caused problems," Hangman joked, garnering a chuckle from the group. 

"Thanks, Ghost," Maverick said, holding the letter with slightly shaking hands. The group bid each other goodnight once more and parted ways. Maverick tucked the letter safely in his pocket before heading home. He wasn't ready to read it right now. It'd been an emotional day, a somber reminder of how precious and fleeting life could be, and reading the words of a woman he once loved would be too difficult. All Maverick wanted to do was go home and hold Penny tightly for the rest of the night.

****

Tags: @supernaturaldawning @shanimallina87 @polikszena @lgg5989 @callsign-milano @bradshawsandbridgetons @harper1666 @shadeops21 @double-j @copaceticwriter @rotating-obsessions @sharkprestige @thedarkinmansfield @lapilark @mickeyluvs @starshipfantasy @bennypears00 @mandowife221b @the-navistar-carol @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @carmellasworld @0hb0llocks @nicangelinee @summ3rlotus @3picklesinajar @magentamistress @the-other-hawkeye @elisha-chloe @emilymarie105 @persephone11110 @luckyladycreator2 @boogdleyboo @k0k3 @bibissparkles @lilmonstrjedi @stinkyrat09 @cocoag19 @suburbzchick @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @goodstuff28 @georgiasimpson95 @horselovers2016 @tanithpriad125 @davidshawnsown @sowolfstudentme @agagafafa @callmemana @sec17 @brxklyn15 @h0ppy0the0sheep @tomanybandstolove @abigailannz @mini-bee-bee

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23Chp 24 Chp 25 Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30

[canmom]

I'm doing a gamedev course, paid for by Her Majesty's Government, because I guess they think more game developers is more taxes or something. I'll take it lol. Am I going to be come a game developer? Unclear as yet! I'll be as surprised as you. But I need 'money' to 'eat food', I understand, and this is looking like the best bet.

A lot of it is about one big project that I'll be working on over the next ~14 weeks, so I thought maybe people would be interested in what I'm trying to make. Which is THRUST//DOLL, a game about darting and grappling your posthuman shell through hundreds of missiles. You can see some visual inspirations here...

For reasons best known to Past Bryn (ok, it's to learn the tech), I'm trying to do this entire project within Unity's new(ish) Data Oriented Technology Stack (DOTS), which gives you the magic of an Entity Component System, meaning you can shove data in and out of the CPU cache at speeds previously unknown to humanity. DOTS is a paradigm that's supposed to replace the old object-oriented world of GameObjects with something sleek and modern and compiled (using 'Burst', we're still in C# sadly).

So the core idea of ECS is that, instead of storing data on class instances, you put that data in tightly packed arrays of component strcts indexed by the same 'entities', and you iterate over these rapidly with 'systems'. If you've heard of e.g. the Rust game engine Bevy, it's the same idea, just... awkwardly jammed into Unity. (Many other engines are following the same sort of idea).

But... it's had a really rocky history, the API has only just stablised after most of a decade, and half the DOTS-related information you'll find on the internet is plain out of date, and the rest is either a little inscrutable or long video tutorials.

The first task I've been set by the powers that be at "Mastered" is to make a 'configurator'. The assessment task they had me do to get into the course was also a configurator, I guess someone there really likes configuring things. Anyway, for me that's going to be the character creation screen of THRUST//DOLL, where you swap out bits of your body to get new abilities.

So, have the first of some devlogs where I describe the design decisions I've been making so far. At first all I wanted to do was create a system where there are UI elements that you can click on with a little toggleable circle in the UI that is attached to them. Unity has like three ways of doing everything you can think of, so that involved a lot of digging. Eventually I settled on doing it a fourth way using none of Unity's built-in UI systems, using shader magic.

So I made a noodly looking thing for drawing circles:

Why shadergraph and not the cool hardcore HLSL text editor way? Because sigh DOTS has a bunch of weird boilerplate I didn't have the energy to figure out. 'Because DOTS has a bunch of weird boilerplate' is gonna be the recurring thing in this story I suspect. Anyway Unity ShaderGraph is almost the same as Blender Material Nodes, except you need to know a little bit about rasterisation. Luckily I made a rasteriser in 2017, so I have a decent understanding of this stuff.

A billboard shader it turns out is hilariously simple. What you basically want to do is have a polygon that matches the rotation of the camera. However, in a shadergraph, Unity will apply the full MVP matrix no matter what. So the solution is that you do is you take the View matrix, which is the camera's transformation, and invert it, and apply that before the MVP matrix with 0 in the w component to make sure any translation still gets applied. As long as the model isn't rotated at all, it all cancels out.

Anyway I figured out how to do overrides with DOTS components, which is neat, so I can feed in numbers into my shader per entity. The next step was to figure out how to create entities and components to display these little circles... which is the subject of devlog #2.

This one's basically a DOTS cheat sheet where I boil down the main things you'd want to know how to do. If you ever felt like trying out Unity DOTS, I really, really hope it will save you some of the misery I've had. There are so many weird gotchas (you fool, you saved a temporary negative entity index!) but the good part is that it really forces you to learn what's going on in this thing.

That is a good part, right?

Anyway here's the milestone I reached today: cubes you can click on at like 200FPS. It will revolutionise gaming, I think.

Yeah so that looks like shit, but the code is cool, and now the code's there I can make something that looks cool instead of bad!

More updates soon, I have to work pretty hard at this thing. Have another concept sketch!

[naberiie]

im thinking about the blackthorns again (unsurprisingly...) and i imagine one of the (many) challenges of raising young children that blackthorn and aloev face in the early days is brynmei, and how to deal with a young girl who relies on the force to see. raising children when you yourself didnt have a childhood is one thing - now with extra Weird Force Nonsense!

as clone troopers theyre used to grown jedi with weird force abilities but this? brynmei is an actual baby who can ‘see’ through walls and the dark and who can sense if one her dads or siblings is in a bad mood. like thats bizarre to witness when the force user is an adult - but when theyre a toddler? even weirder blackthorn what do you mean she can tell when youre having a bad flashback even when shes three rooms and two floors away

it takes some getting used to - that brynmei isnt actually blind, per se, and that she has heightened force senses compared to everyone else - and then aloev fashions her an eye covering from an old piece of clone armor (and danae and sanfiti almost immediately demand a piece of their own (danae gets tiny little vambraces, sanfiti a lekku covering)) 

blackthorn and aloev are now responsible for not only teaching brynmei to reign in her ‘sight’ but also for explaining the force to the other children - theyre the resident ‘experts’ on the force until alaenor shows up and they could n o t be more relieved

[takemedancingmaine]

Where I Belong

The weather had finally shifted to spring.

Although, if we’re honest, there’s not a real spring in Chicago. Only winter and then false hope then more winter and then, somehow overnight, summer. 

It was sticky and the air was heavy. You could feel it on your skin the moment you stepped outside. Paired with some of the bluest skies and the clear water of Lake Michigan, one could understand the allure of Chicago, finally making sense of why people brave the winters and the grey skies. Every year around this time, I fell in love with the city all over again, fell in love with the vibe of spring baseball games and a beer on my front porch with a good book in my lap. I fell in love with beach days and rooftop day parties and going to the zoo for a walk around just because. 

The trees along Lakeshore were green and full when I ran past them in the mornings, the birds were singing loud over the traffic, and kids were playing with chalk on the sidewalk in front of their houses.

It wasn't like I needed a reminder of all the reasons I loved Chicago, because I just did, but the month of May brought the reminders out for me anyway. I was enamored by the juxtaposition of the busy city behind me and the vast, empty expanse of blue water in front, kicking at the wall under my heels as I dangled my legs over the edge.

I was sitting on a concrete barrier on the edge of the Lake that separated two beaches in Bryn Mawr and writing in my journal. 

It was something I was doing more and more since starting therapy all those months ago. I was not a writer by any means, nor was I eloquent, but I never felt pressure to write well or to even make sense of my thoughts as they left my mind and etched themselves into words on the pages. I simply felt a pull to get the thoughts down so that they weren't festering inside of me. It was a relief I felt that was similar to running. It was a solitary activity where I was alone with myself and able to attempt to understand myself better.

Three and a half months since my secret came to light, since I faced it out in the open and gave it a name and came to terms with the fact that I had to accept it and push forward in a healthy way. Last week, Brian had ‘graduated’ us all from his self-defense class and was gearing up to start anew with another fresh batch of students.

He was excited to start all over again in the fall, and I was excited to have not only completed his class but to have gained more than just knowledge but two friendships as a result of pushing myself through it. Tala and Brian were instrumental in my healing process, and I couldn't be happier with them being a part of my life. They also folded in seamlessly with the rest of the group. Between Tala’s wit and Brian’s charisma, they were always a welcome addition whenever they could join us in our activities.  

There was just one thing about those activities that I had yet to rectify.

I also knew it had to be me, that I had to make the move to solve it. It took me a while to come to terms with this, longer than it had taken me to come to terms with everything else. It was countless hours talking to Louis and Cleo. I even spent a lot of time with Liam and asked his opinions. His advice had been incredibly simple: do what you feel like you’re ready to do, and even if you don’t feel ready, take that step anyway: test yourself.

Ordinarily, I would’ve scoffed at his idea, but Tala said something similar when I went to her with the issue as well. She was the one who, despite what her brother had told her, approved of my severing ties with Niall in the first place. She was the one who said it was better for me. Recently though, she was starting to push me more and more. The conversation we’d had last weekend had centered around the fact that I would probably never feel ready to make this move, but going off of everything else I’d done and all the progress I’d made, I was ready.

I still wasn’t sure, but that was the thing. Emotions are like water. They're impossible to compress. So once the thought was there, I couldn't push it back down. I had to follow through.

I think it was like Tala had said, that I might never be sure. I thought about how rarely sure we are in life and it made me realize just how much we as humans gamble and hope for the best, blowing on the dice for luck before we throw them down. So what if I still wasn't sure? I couldn't remember a time when I was sure. Life was about putting all the pieces together and hoping they made a puzzle, but if not it was okay, there was always a new path, a new puzzle to piece together waiting around each bend.

My journal entry was reflecting this sentiment as I scribbled in it in all caps. I noticed that when I wrote now, my penmanship was all capitals, blockish and somehow a little bit flowy. It was how I’d written notes and essays when I was in high school but had steered away from when I was trying to take notes at a much quicker pace in college. I had told Dr. Winters a few weeks ago that maybe it was because it was more deliberate, slower and more methodical to write in all capital letters. I wasn’t sure yet why or if it meant anything specific–it could always be as simple as I like the aesthetic more–but it was something to think about anyway.

“Hey,” a voice called me from my reverie. I’d been absorbed in writing, absorbed in listening to the sound of the water below me, entranced by the sunshine beating down on me. I slipped a page marker into the journal and closed it, setting it and the pen beside me before looking up. 

It was the hat on his head that made me smile. 

“Hi,” I said, patting the ground beside me, signaling for him to sit.

He did. He maneuvered himself down and leaned back on his hands, his head falling back as he looked up at the sky, his eyes closed.

I took that moment to look him over. He was tan, his skin practically glowing in the sunshine, and his facial hair was fuller. It suited him. I couldn’t tell what his hair was doing, but as he took a deep breath and lowered his head back down and opened his eyes, I noted that the easiness he’d always carried about him was still present. I’d worried that I might’ve stripped that from him, but from the looks of it, I hadn’t.

He turned his head toward me and I was struck by the blue of his eyes. Even with the blue water below me, the blue sky above me, and the blue hat situated on top of his head, his eyes were still the most vibrant, the most riveting of all the options. There was a depth to them that even the most renowned artists would struggle to capture. I could see them clearly even in the shade of his ball cap.

For months I’d thought that perhaps seeing those eyes again would cripple me, tear me down brick-by-brick until I was an amorphous blob on the ground, unable to function back at square one. Yet here I was, staring into those eyes and holding my own, maintaining myself. I had thought that I’d see something in those eyes that might indicate pain or regret. Instead, I saw curiosity and respect. I’d spent a few months dealing with both of those qualities in other people’s gazes to know what they were, and seeing them there, on him, felt natural. As if this was how it was supposed to be.

“You look tan,” I said. 

He nodded and looked out ahead of us toward the horizon. “Yeah, I um. I went on that trip to South Africa a few weeks ago with Greg. It was a place our dad had always wanted to go, so we figured we’d get down there and see what he’d been going on and on about for so long.” 

“How was it?”

“It was unbelievable,” he said. When he said that, I saw that smile, his smile, slip onto his face and watched as his features lit up. I could feel my own features shift into a smile as a response to his, the reaction involuntary, but I was unable to do anything but react to his contagious good vibe. “We did a great white shark thing, watched them breach from a boat and even went down in a tank to watch them from below. It was the scariest, coolest thing I’ve ever done by far. I don't know if I'll ever be able to top it, but I would like to try.” 

He was happy. 

I was struck by that when he looked at me full on again. He was happy and so was I.

We fell into silence. It was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. There was so much to be said between us so much that needed to be discussed and sorted through, but somehow we both understood that we were under no pressure and that added a level of comfort to the situation.

He spoke first.

“You look lighter… somehow. Calmer,” he said, glancing at me, appraising, and then shifted his gaze back out to the lake.

“I feel lighter,” I said after a moment. Watching him, and then following his gaze to the horizon. He didn't interrupt me when I paused to gather my thoughts, and I appreciated his patience, and appreciated that even after all these months he still believed I deserved the time to get it right. “Therapy has helped quite a bit. As has telling everyone.”

“Louis mentioned to me that you told everyone, including your family,” he said. I watched him from the corner of my eye. “I was really proud of you for that. It must've taken a lot of strength.”

I let out a breathless chuckle. “The family’s response was something, to be sure. And it's funny, but I knew how our friends would react. I just didn't let myself believe that they would be so supportive, that it wouldn't make them look at me in pity. I knew that they wouldn't, but taking that leap of faith is still scary sometimes.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, the timber of his voice rattling my bones. “They're some pretty remarkable people, our friends.”

“If we're calling lunacy ‘remarkable’ nowadays, then sure.” He laughed out loud at my words and I felt it in my toes, his spirit floating lightly. His energy lifted me through this process. If it was anytime else, I couldn't have been able to do this, to tell them.

“I don't expect you to forgive me,” I said, my voice quiet suddenly. “I know I didn't exactly go about, well, anything the right way at first. But I'm trying now and I wanted you to know that I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to apol-”

“I do,” I interrupted him. He cut his gaze to me quickly, the confusion clear within it. “I do,” I repeated with a nod. “I hurt you. I know I hurt you. Regardless of why or the outcome, I still did that. And for that, I'm sorry.”

“I accept,” he said back quietly, his eyes still watching me.

I stayed silent for a long while, looking out over the water, but I knew he was watching me, and could feel his eyes on me. It must've been a handful of minutes later before I spoke again.

“I don't have my nightmare anymore.” As much as I wanted to keep looking at the water I desperately wanted to see his face when he processed that news. So, I turned and watched.

“You what?” His mouth was wide, his eyes searching my face and moving at a quick pace, his voice was nothing but a whisper of words on an exhale of breath leaving him in a gust.

“Since early March,” I said, nodding. “Two and a half months ago.”

“That's great, Ruby,” he said softly and looked away again. I watched as he took his Cubs hat off and ran a hand through his hair before settling his hat back down. His hair was wavy and long on top, but shorter onthe sides. It was my favorite style on him.

“It's been a relief,” I admitted. He nodded at my words.

“I'm sure Moggy appreciates not being woken up in the middle of the night, too,” he said, a smile pulling on his features, knowing that the worst was behind us.

“Oh she's never been happier,” I smiled back. “I was putting a real damper on her beauty rest.” We giggled quietly and then fell into another bout of comfortable silence, the minutes just passing by as we took in being beside each other again. A couple of kids passed by on skateboards behind us and a man blaring reggae music from a speaker walked by at a leisurely pace, the sound fading as he made it to the beach to our left.

“I was thinking,” I started after it had been silent for a while, “that it's probably time our friends stopped making two sets of plans.”

“Yeah?” He asked, pulling his gaze down to me and quirking his eyebrows.

“This wasn't nearly as hard as I built it up in my head to be,” I said, letting him know I'd been nervous about seeing him. 

He let out a slow breath and nodded, another smile pulling on his lips. “Yeah, it really hasn't been.” I let him think for a moment, able to see the thoughts whirring behind his eyes. “I think that's fair.”

“You think we can pull it off, being friends?”

“Well,” he drew in a breath and let it out slowly, “we've done being a couple, and we’ve done being nothing to each other, so I think that maybe friends can be a happy medium for us.”

I hoped so.

Sitting there I realized that although I had patched myself up and that I was happy, content with my life and who I was, I had still missed Niall.

I'd missed his contagious laugh and his easygoing energy. I'd missed his quirky bookish quotes that would come out when he was trying to be introspective and I'd missed watching him interact with Louis and the rest of our friends. 

I realized just how easily I could be his friend. I thought about how he would fit in with Tala and Brian and how he'd compliment each of them as well. I thought about our group game nights having good music again because my choices wouldn't be voted down and the Guinness that would be stocked in all of our fridges for just-in-case purposes.

If anything were to happen between us in the future–and I recognized that hypothetical as a long shot because of the trust that would have to be built back up–that was for the future. For right now, I was happy just having him around again.

It was enough for me. It was calm and I felt that ease settling into my belly as I thought about that. I wasn't wary of what was to come or nervous of screwing anything up. It was an easy friendship and there were expectations that went along with being a friend, but they didn't feel impossible to meet or to breathe under.

“Hey,” he said, pulling me again from my reverie with that single word.

I looked over at him.

“This feels good.”

“It does,” I acknowledged. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Thanks for reaching out,” he said.

I took a deep breath and looking out at the lake in front of me, seeing it for what was far from the first time, I felt myself sink into happiness, all of my nervous energy from before leaving me like the waves pulling away from the barrier and all that was coming in was a warmth and a relief that spread through me. 

Looking right, I could see the green grass and trees and the golden beach past them, could see skyscrapers reaching up into the blue beyond above and could see the sun as it travelled its path, steady and constant and not concerning itself with anything but its own power and strength.

The sun knew that it would be cloudy some days, but that never dimmed its shine, it was bright regardless of what was happening around it. I took a deep breath and closing my eyes against the light hoped that I could be like that too, bright and unwavering and strong in the face of life. I finally felt like I was in a place where that wasn't an unreasonable hope.

[mama-ghostie-61542]

A Thousand Lifetimes

Hellloooo, My Freaky Darlings--This chapter is a little different, for reasons you will understand shortly...Therefore--Rated M++ for language and NAUTINESS.

Once again, my dears...if you recognize it...IT AIN'T MINE.

Sorry for the OOC bits.

(A/N-- Please, don't be mad. It took me weeks to get the courage to post this.)

Chapter 11

Kihyun

After picking up a bit, I started a cup of coffee. Then, I went to grab the chapter and change into some sweats. About the time I made it back to the kitchen, coffee was waiting for me. I picked it up and sipped at it as I walked to the couch and settled on the far end. I didn't even think about what the red heart in the corner of the cover meant. Turns out.....It means naughtiness.

Kihyun

That year was tough, looking back. But, then, we were busier this year. Some how, we still managed to meet up in Hawaii as planned.

That week was crazy! We went to a few museums. We also spent time on the black sand beach in front of the hotel. That handmade bikini she wore, tore me up.

The next night, we had reservations at a tiny place. Dinner was nice, but I could not stop thinking about unwrapping that dress she had on.

We made it back to the room. It was nice, but the best thing in that room was her. The way that she smelled had been teasing me all night; the way her cedar and sage products mixed with her natural smell. I would be lying if I said I hadn't anticipated this moment for quite some time. I ditched my tie on the couch as we came into the room. Then, I toed off my shoes and socks right there.

I sat on the bed as she unwrapped the cream silk dress she had worn today, revealing black lace over creamy, caramelly skin. She immediately went to hang up the cream and midnight blue gown, inadvertently showing just what her under things looked like from EVERY angle.

"Are you trying to seduce me," I asked.

"That depends," She giggled as she placed her hands on her hips and then swayed, "Is it working?"

Looking at her, I let myself start at her tiny feet, in those strappy, lacy, blue sandals, and drank her in. Up over those seemingly delicate but deceptively strong ankles. Up those long legs, to that tiny bit of delicate black lace hugging her hips and ass. And up a little farther, past the scars to the same black lace, lovingly caressing her soft skin over her small but perky girls.

'Aww, crap,' I thought as I gathered up the chapter and my coffee and hurried towards my room. 'I should have just stayed in my room.'

"Yes," I whispered, softly, then bit my lip hard, trying to control myself. "Come here," I ordered as I allowed her to see the hunger in my eyes.

She strode, slowly, across the room to stand in front of me, her own desire burning in those blue green depths. I watched as they darkened with every step to the color of rough seas before a storm.

I caressed around her thighs to her butt, before grabbing a cheek in either hand and squeezing for a moment; then continuing on to wrap my arms around her hips. Resting my chin on her stomach, I said, "Would you let me peel you out of these with my teeth? Or shred them while getting them off," I said as I snapped the back of her underwear.

Her only answer was a shiver.

"Ahh, you like that idea, eh?"

"I would rather," she started, then cleared her throat, "You let me take them off. They were pretty expensive."

I laughed. 'Yep. That's her. She will drop $1500 cash on a new stove, but won't spend five bucks on her underwear.'

I looked at her and smirked, "Expensive to you, or me? I will buy you 5 pairs, if you let me destroy this one," I said as I ghosted my bottom lip over her soft skin. She smelled like heaven and I just wanted to taste every inch of her.

"10," She countered.

'Hmm. Fifty bucks on lacy undies I am just going to tear up anyway? I'm game.'

I chuckled, "You drive a hard bargain, Woman, but, I suppose. Now," I growled as I refocused her attention by raking my nails down her back, gently, then caressing the way back up. "Hands or teeth?"

Again she shivered, but this time it was accompanied by a breathy moan as her eyes rolled closed for a moment.

"I am gonna leave that decision in your capable hands."

"Not smart giving me complete control, my sweet Queen. You may have a hard time walking tomorrow. If I have my way, we won't leave this room all week. Now," I said as I grasped her hips, and squeezed slightly as I gently pushed her back so I could stand up. "Tell me what you want," I commanded as I caressed her arm from wrist to shoulder, as I walked behind her. I then, dragged my finger tips over her shoulder, only to replace them with my knuckles and trace her strap.

She is writing me with a whole lot more patience than I actually have.

Another shiver.

My control momentarily snapped as my shirt came off and went flying. I stepped up behind her, until her back was against my chest and caressed over her hips and thighs again before burying my face in the back of her neck, earning me yet another shiver and a soft moan.

"My love, look at how responsive you are to my touch, My Queen. I'm willing to bet you dinner I can make you cum without doing much else."

'Yeah, would not be making that bet. I'd lose,' I laughed.

Bryn chuckled lowly, "If that's the case, Baby, I already owe you one...or twelve."

I giggled, 'Only twelve? Sweetheart, you are only counting for a week.'

"Oh, no, Darling. There is a big difference between projection and flesh. Only certain things make it past the astral translators, and those lose something. Astral is bound by projection and how good you are at taking care of yourself. Skin is so much better. Would you like for me to show you," I whispered on that spot where her neck and shoulder meet.

I didn't get an answer, just another shivering moan.

'God, I love it when she does that.'

"Hmmm. Take that as a yes," I said as I reached around to cup her breasts and squeeze them slightly. Then, I found the little plastic clasp to her bra, nestled between them...and broke it. Next, I gently slid it off of her and as it cleared her hands, threw it across the room. I think it landed over by my shirt, but I could care less.

Then, I caressed over her arms and back, only to return to her firm breasts. I cupped them and before I could blink, her hands were over mine, showing me just how much pressure to use.

"Is that what you like, Baby. For me to be a little rough with them? Show me what you want, my love. How you want to be touched. Show me how to touch you," I whispered on her shoulder, as I squeezed her breasts again and this time pinched the nipples hard.

I was suddenly very glad I was in my room. I sat aside the story for a minute to go grab a towel and lock my doors. Damned woman.

She arched her back and gasped, before turning towards me. Facing me, she languidly caressed up my chest and over my shoulders with her fingertips ghosting over my flesh. Her fingernails raked gently across the tender flesh on my neck and tipped my head down to hers.

This time, it was me who shivered.

'Oh, shit. She knows what she is writing,' I thought as I adjusted myself.

I tried to look away to control myself.

With her lips a hairs breadth from mine, she whispered, "Hawkie." Then, she gently kissed me and licked my bottom lip, "Focus on me, Baby." Again, she kissed me, tenderly.

'And there it goes. No control with this one,' I thought. 'She knows too much.'

I had fuckin goosebumps from that. I will admit that I started to kiss her back with the same ardor she was using. I caressed my fingertips down her spine and when I reached her ass, palmed those perfect globes and proceeded to knead them slightly. As I did that, pulling her as close to me as possible, I could feel her boobs rubbing against my chest.

She gasped and let out a breathy moan.

I cupped her head in my left hand as I worked my way down to that spot on her neck where I could feel her pulse under my lips and whispered, "Tell me, my sweet queen, what you want." My right hand had been resting on the small of her back, holding her against me, steadying her.

"You," she whispered as her hands roamed over my back and chest. I knew, somehow, her control was fading.

That one word ripped away what was left of my control. My hand left her back to remove my belt and let my pants fall to the floor. With the flick of my foot, they were off.

When I put my hand back on her hip, I found she had removed her panties.

"That was my job," I growled.

'Getting a woman all worked up and naked is a man's job.'

"They're still around my thighs," she answered.

"Hmmm. Good," I growled as she shivered against me and moaned. I walked her back to the bed, and picked her up, laying her down. Then I stepped back to grab her ankles and pull her to the edge of the bed, before sinking to my knees. I grabbed her left ankle, and after removing those heels, placed it on my shoulder as I said, "Baby. Look at me,"

Her eyes, dark with passion, rolled open and looked at me. Her breath was getting ragged.

I had to pause. Cold shower. I made the mistake of picking the story back up when I got out.

"Do you know how sexy you are," I asked as I placed open mouthed kisses on her calf, moving slowly towards her knee, as I caressed her other leg. Then, I switched legs and continued to nip and kiss until I reached that tiny scrap of lace. I grabbed it in both hands and tore it apart.

"Cheap silicone elastic," I chuckled as I tossed the remains of the offending garment over my shoulder.

My hands took on a bit of their own life as I sat back on my heels for a moment, looking at her, drinking in her beautiful figure. Even her stretch marks, long since turned to scars, could not detract from how attractive she was, or how much I wanted her.

As I caressed her torso, her hands were suddenly on mine.

"Show me. Show me what you want," I whispered.

She answered me, by arching and moaning again.

I could listen to her moaning all day long. It's like the soundtrack to the best porn.

Back to the shower. Holy fuck.

Bryn removed her hands from mine and, as her legs fell down to my sides, she sat up sliding forward into me. With her cheek against mine, she nipped at my ear and started placing open mouthed kisses on my neck and shoulder. There was a sudden breeze on my ass before I noticed that her hands were there, gently scratching over my hips, not enough to sting, but enough to send shivers down my spine and give me the biggest goosebumps I have ever had.

Then, her hand gently slid down my length.

"No, Dear," I said as I caught her hand and pulled it away. "You start that, it'll be over too soon. I meant it when I said I plan on keeping you up all night.

She shivered again as I ran my hands down her arms to her hands and wrapped them around behind her. As they met behind her, I transferred both wrists to my left hand and caressed over her back and shoulder before moving to her arm, then her hip, and on to her thigh, only to caress up over her stomach and pinch her nipple.

'Yep...I'm done,' I thought as I stepped into the shower for a third time. 'That woman is going to kill me.'

"Face it, Girlie. I'm planning on doing things no man has ever had the balls to do. I'm gonna light you up, and get you to beg for more." I said as I wrapped my free arm around her and dragged her further up into the bed. Then, I pushed her back. "Now be a good girl and lay back. Lemme do my job, Woman."

"You're a tease," she whined.

"No, Ma'am." I answered, as I pushed her into the bed. "If you are a good girl, I'll give you exactly what you want. Now, hands to yourself," I said as I pinned her hands to the bed by her wrists. "Keep them there."

Leaning down, I nipped her ear and trailed my lips down to her neck. Working my way down, I stopped to gently chew on her collarbone, before licking it.

She, somehow, worked her legs out from under me and wrapped those long legs around me before moving her hips and whining, "Baby."

"No ma'am," I chuckled as I grabbed her hips to still them before trailing my fingertips up to her boobs. She sighed as I wrapped my hands around her titties and paid attention to one rosy peak, teasing it to a tight bud. Then, switching to the other globe to lavish attention on it.

That was it. Back to the shower for a fourth time. Good God, that woman can write smut. Almost as that thought coalesced, there was a pounding on the door to the bathroom.

"You ok, Dude," Honey yelled on the other side.

"No, Well yeah, but... not really," I trailed off.

"What's the issue?"

"Smut. Smutty Chapter," I yelled as I leaned against my shower wall and tried to get control of myself...again.

He laughed. "Is it good?"

"Hell yes."

"Oh. OH! Hang on a minute. I will run every one out for about an hour. Cool?"

"Thank you," I choked out.

After a few minutes, I heard my phone chirp. It was a message from Joey~ "All out. You have one (1) hour. Have fun."

In all it took me less than a second to flip the water over to hot and get to work. As I held on to the shower rod with one hand, I could almost smell her in the shower with me. But what really got to me was the feeling of her breath, panting on my cheek, encouraging me, spurring me on.

'C'mon, Haka,' she begged as she sent an image down our thread of her spread out over her bed and playing. 'Please cum for me, Baby.'

That did it. The world exploded as I did. When I came down, I noticed that the colors were brighter, much more vivid than normal.

'Woman,' I shouted down our thread. 'That chapter was HELL.'

'Like it did ya?'

'I loved it. Thank you, by the way, for the talk and the visual. That was hot. I didn't know YOU, much less anyone else, could write about fuckin like that. Wow.'

'I take it you approve?'

'Yes! But, I'm gonna have to up my game to compete with that. Holy crap.'

'Where do you think the inspiration came from? All those nights you'd spend teasing the shit outta me.'

I giggled, 'Oh hey. I do that a lot, don't I.'

'Ya do. Multiple times a week.'

'So, the guys are definitely not reading that chapter. Joey thought I was sick. I ended up in the shower four times. When I told him it was the chapter, he ran every one out of the dorms so I could take care of my raging hormones. That is the kind of chapter you need a towel for. I'm in for it when we get together, aren't I?'

'Oh yeah,' she answered.

"Looking forward to that,' I chuckled.

Half an hour later, every one else had returned and I had washed up, cleaned up, and was back in my sweats. I was still riding the afterglow when Joohoney pounded on my bedroom door.

"All good," he asked as he opened the door slightly.

"Yes, thanks."

"Awesome. Hopefully you weren't talking to my sister during."

I giggled, "Well. I wasn't the one talking."

_____________________________________________________________

A/N--As I am finishing this chapter up, I distinctly hear Haka's voice--"Whelp. That one's goin' under my bed."--rather matter-of-factly.

I fucking lost it laughing. Sometimes, he is like a teenager with nudie pics. God forbid ANYONE realize he is full grown MAN with needs of his own.

[atamascolily]

Fanfic Excerpt: Alternate Version of Sinbad 2x21 - “The Guardians“, part 2/?

The "rewrite canon that annoys me" trend continues! AU version of the episode from Bryn's perspective. Part One is here.

I've been toying with the idea of putting these in script format, but one of the advantages of text over TV is that you can go further in depth with the characters' inner lives, which is something I particularly enjoy. So far, so good. 

Bryn isn't sure how she knew Ajeeb was the woman's child - some magical impulse or intuition she follows because she doesn't know what else to do. She kneels on the ground next to Firouz, dizzy as the adrenaline rush from the battle fades. Firouz is fumbling in his belt pouch for herbs and bandages to staunch the bleeding. Even though he knows it's futile, he still tries. Bryn admires him for that - in the aftermath of battle, she is just tired.

Doubar and Rongar are scouring the camp for any sign of raiders, and any survivors; they fade in and out of her peripheral vision. Dermott is somewhere in the air, silent, unreachable. He talks to her, not the other way around, although she could probably reach him if she really wanted to. She doesn't try.

Sinbad only has eyes for the dying woman, who is clinging to her child fiercely, as if the two will never be separated. She's speaking with Sinbad, and the words suddenly snap into focus for Bryn. "Take him to the temple in Balardi... the monks will take him in... He must go... it is prophesied..." Her words are in halting gasps and Bryn knows it isn't long before the shock of her injuries sets in. "I have a purse - take it - everything I have - yours - please, just take him to Balardi -"

Sinbad's face is grim and steady, and Bryn knows that he's angry, although his rage is not aimed at the woman whose name they do not even know. What's your name? Bryn aches to cry out, but Sinbad cuts her off before she can open her mouth, asking about the father.

"There is none," the woman says cryptically. She must mean he's dead, Bryn guesses hazily. Surely, she's not implying it was a virgin birth! But when prophesies are on the table, anything is possible, and Bryn has seen a lot of strange things since she began journeying with Sinbad. Often, Bryn is the one doing them, for reasons she doesn't and may never understand.

"We'll take him there," Sinbad whispers, "I promise." Bryn nods, knowing their course was set from the moment Dermott showed her the smoke. Of course they will. What else is left to do? It was never about the money, though that never hurts, either. Sinbad's a merchant, not a mercenary, and usually breaks even through exceptional luck and some dramatic and unorthodox accounting.

"The raiders - they'll try to kill him," the woman gasps. "You must protect him! They ambushed us - on our way to Balardi - the prophesy says Ajeeb will bring their downfall!"

Ah. It's all coming together now, how the story is woven, and where it all fits in. So the raiders will be back. Probably with reinforcements. Lots of them. She can tell by the clench of his jaw that Sinbad has the same thought.

"Ajeeb, I love you," the woman whispers. "Take care of him - for me - tell him - " and she slides backwards, the muscles in her face going slack, her breathing stops. Ajeeb, who has been quiet since Bryn returned him to his mother's arms, appears to sense something is wrong, and begins to wail.

Sinbad looks over at Bryn. "Can you carry him as we ride to Balardi?"

"Sinbad, what makes you think I know anything about babies?" She is tired, and her heart aches at the slaughter and senseless violence, and so it comes out more snappish than she intends. She does her best to soften the rebuke, not wanting to argue with him. He is the captain, after all. "I'm not sure I'm the best person to handle him, that's all."

Sinbad looks up over to the edge of the clearing, where Doubar is already hoisting bodies to build a pyre - mostly bandits, Bryn notes absently. Sinbad will probably make them make cairns for the caravan folk who were killed in the attack, even though it takes longer. He doesn't like burning the dead. One of his many quirks.

"I can probably rig up a sling," Firouz volunteers, fumbling with some bandages. "Give me a few minutes."

"I don't want him falling off, now." Sinbad is curt, but not overly so, absently looking in Doubar's direction. "Doubar, you had a lot of practice carrying me back in the day - ready to show off your skills?"

Doubar looks up from the grim clean-up work, probably grateful to have something else to focus on for a moment. "Baby-sitting is not my forte, Sinbad, but he can't be more of a handful than you were at that age." Rongar, who has been putting out the wagon fires, grins, not bothering to hide his amusement at the mental image.

"Good. You can carry him while we ride to Balardi. Firouz, rig up a sling for him or something."

"I'm not carrying a child over my shoulder like a sack of grain!" Doubar sputters. "That's not right!"

"I was thinking over the chest. Like Rongar's bandolier," Firouz mused, as his fingers shifted and twisted the fabric. "Though a sack might work, too."  

"Fine, but it had better be comfortable," Doubar grouses, going back to moving bodies. "For me AND for the little tyke. I don't want to drop him!"

"Come over here when you're done and we can test out my designs." Firouz is always eager when working on a new invention. It's one of his most endearing traits. "I don't really know much about babies, so this will be an interesting chance to make some scientific observations-- Hey, he's wearing a gold ring around his neck!"

Bryn cranes her neck to look. It's true. "Some sort of talisman," she agrees. "Very shiny. Probably part of the prophecy."

"Well, we'll probably need that when we get to Balardi," Sinbad says, standing up. "Let's clean up here and get going. Doubar, finish the pyre for the bandits. Firouz, stay with Ajeeb and figure out what we need to do to take him comfortably with us. You can make all the observations you want. Rongar, go through and see what else survived in the caravan. Maybe there's something we can use. Bryn, see to the horses, then help me build Ajeeb's mother a cairn."

"Sinbad, the bandits will come back. Do you think we have time--"

"We have time," he says, his mouth a grim line, and she knows there is no arguing with him on this. They will haul the rocks and build the cairn and they will do the decent thing, the honorable thing, the hard thing, the right thing according to Sinbad's code, and then they will go to Balardi and take Ajeeb to to the monks in accordance with his mother's dying wish. Studying Sinbad's face, Bryn wonders if the prophesy might not be self-fulfilling - the bandits may have set about their own doom now that Sinbad is involved.

She stands up, too. "All right," she says, and staggers off to go see about the horses, more tired and heartsick than she cares to admit to herself. No matter how many time she sees this script play out, it never gets any easier. That's what makes us good people, she reminds herself. Because we care. Because we don't let the pain make us jaded.

It's one reason why she stays with Sinbad. He may be cynical when it comes to his own emotions, wracked by grief he refuses to confront about a certain red-haired sorceress, but he's never become complacent about injustice, or the suffering of innocents. He never stops doing the right thing just because it's hard.

Also, she has to admit to herself, where else would she go? It's not like she has a home or family to go to. Like it or not, the crew of the Nomad is her family now.

Still, she wishes she had asked the woman's name. Because she was more than just Ajeeb's mother, more than just a victim. She was a person with her own life and story, one that they will never know. And they will never be able to tell Ajeeb any more than that his mother loved him and she died holding him in her arms, entrusting him to strangers because she had no other choice.

It's not fair. It's never fair. But she builds the cairn with Sinbad because it's the only thing they can do for her, aside from fulfilling her last request.

****

Firouz rigs up the sling for Doubar and they ride, following a map that was tucked away in the pouch Ajeeb's mother offered Sinbad as payment for their services. It helps that Ajeeb is a calm child and seems content to sleep snuggled up to Doubar, swaying in rhythmn with the horse's footsteps. Sinbad is still grim, and Bryn is still tired, but everyone else has relaxed enough to begin to banter again, even Rongar, who occasionally signs his reactions to Firouz and Doubar's running commentary about the infant. Firouz is fascinated by Ajeeb - clearly he hasn't spent much time with young children prior to this- and Doubar is smitten, even cooing on occasion. She would be more amused by the spectacle if she wasn't so exhausted.

Sinbad is clearly uncomfortable, but trying not to show it. It's not clear if it's the child that bothers him or the circumstances that led to his presence in their lives. Perhaps he is thinking about the bandits that are looking for them.  

Bryn doesn't know much about babies, either - she hasn't had any experience with them in her post-awakening life, and unlike battle, she doesn't have any innate memories to guide her. Just because she's the only woman in the crew doesn't make her an expert, no matter what some men might think.

Dermott doesn't show up until nightfall when they make camp, his talons bloody. He chirps a bit, staring at Ajeeb, but is otherwise silent. Bryn wonders what he sees, this mysterious hawk that occasionally sends words and images into her mind. Maeve's hawk.

She knows Dermott misses Maeve, as much or more as Sinbad misses Maeve, but at least Dermott is more open than Sinbad about his loss. Dermott will occasionally reach out to her, which is more than she can say about Sinbad. She doesn't know Dermott's story, either - he's more than just a bird, but no one on the crew really knows what he actually is - but Bryn knows he is magical, and she is magical, and so they have a bond, a connection, and Dermott can relate to her like no one else on the crew, except for maybe Sinbad. Sinbad is distant with Dermott, but she's seen his face when he watches Dermott wheeling in the sky, when he thinks no one is looking. She's seen the way he strokes Dermott's breast feathers sometimes, though their relationship is far from smooth, and sometimes Dermott will refuse his entreaties altogether.

Sinbad takes the first watch, and Bryn is all too happy to lie down and sleep. It's been a long day, bandits could attack at any moment, and on these sorts of missions, you never know when you'll have a chance to rest again. You sleep when you can.

[jodyedgarus]

The Biggest Surprises From The First Week Of The NBA Playoffs

sara.ziegler (Sara Ziegler, assistant sports editor): We’ve had almost one full week of games in the NBA playoffs, and trends are emerging. Golden State took a 31-point third-quarter lead over the Clippers on Thursday night … and didn’t lose! So after a few early surprises, things seem to be getting back to what we expected.

One series not playing out according to seeding is San Antonio-Denver. The No. 7 Spurs beat the No. 2 Nuggets 118-108 on Thursday to take a 2-1 lead in the series. This comes as a surprise to the FiveThirtyEight NBA Predictions model, which had Denver as an 88 percent favorite to move on. The Nuggets are still favored, but just 60-40. Are you guys surprised by how this series is going?

chris.herring (Chris Herring, senior staff writer): Not all that much, no. I think I picked Denver out of respect for the season it had. But this was the one team basically everybody had questions about coming in.

I had the series going seven games, with Denver winning. It could easily be 3-0 Spurs right now.

tchow (Tony Chow, video producer): I am surprised, but I don’t think we really should be. It’s the Spurs being the Spurs again.

natesilver (Nate Silver, editor in chief): Our model doesn’t like San Antonio very much, so given their regular-season performance and home-court advantage — and Denver has a big home-court advantage — the Nuggets were pretty clear favorites. But it didn’t really like the Nuggets all that much either. They aren’t a great playoff team because their depth doesn’t really help them in the playoffs, the topline talent is not all that good, and they don’t have much playoff experience.

So I’m surprised that we had them as high as 88 percent, frankly! But not surprised that the Spurs are ahead in the series.

chris.herring: On Denver’s home-court advantage: The Nuggets haven’t beaten the Spurs in San Antonio in 14 tries now.

tchow: I am surprised because at one point in the season, our model gave the Spurs just a 4 percent chance of even making the postseason. We had a story a while back that talked about how they started turning it around (better defense, better bench production), but they were still underdogs going into this series, in my opinion.

sara.ziegler: Yeah, I had sort of counted the Spurs out a long time ago.

Let that be a lesson to me: Never count out Pop.

The experience factor really seems to be hurting the Nuggets so far. (And our model took 3 points away from them for their lack of playoff experience.)

chris.herring: Nuggets coach Mike Malone has talked about the experience factor a pretty decent amount in the past week

His young starting point guard, Jamal Murray, began Game 2 going 0-for-8. Malone was asked if he gave thought to pulling him because of Murray’s performance. He said no, in part because he needed to show his young players that he believed in them, and that he’s with them, win or lose. Murray responded by hitting 8-of-9 in the final quarter to bring the Nuggets all the way back for a dramatic win.

The win probably saved their season for the time being. But it speaks to the volatility of having such a young/young-minded club.

tchow: Murray wasn’t much better in Game 3 — just 6 points and two assists. I’m not trying to pin Denver’s failing’s this postseason all on Murray, though. All the Nuggets starters were pretty terrible in Game 3.

chris.herring: It’s a pretty big contrast between the teams.

While we’re talking about the growing pains for a young team, it’s worth pointing out that the Spurs are being led in part by youngster Derrick White, whose defense is his calling card. I think this is his first real exposure to a national audience, but he’s been playing really well for months.

tchow: White’s Game 3 performance was kind of a reminder for a lot of people who don’t watch the Spurs that he existed.

sara.ziegler: LOL

chris.herring: White’s experience has been different because of all the injuries they’ve had. But White and Dejounte Murray are going to be an annoyingly good backcourt once the team is healthy again next season. AND there’s Bryn Forbes, too.

natesilver: The whole Nuggets backcourt feels like it’s way short of championship caliber. It needs an anchor. There are lots of useful pieces you could rotate around that anchor, like Murray and Gary Harris, but without that anchor, it doesn’t quite come together.

chris.herring: It’s tough: They have a fantastic, sure-handed backup in Monte Morris, who led the NBA in assist/turnover ratio.

sara.ziegler: MORE MONTE MORRIS

Cyclones, represent!

chris.herring: He may not win a game for you. But he’s extremely unlikely to ever lose one for you, which you could argue Murray either occasionally does, or comes close to doing. Again: These are the growing pains for a young team sometimes.

sara.ziegler: On to another team that has seemed shaky at times this postseason: the Philadelphia 76ers. But they seem to have recovered from their upset in Game 1 — they’ve beaten the Nets convincingly twice in a row now. What looked different for them in Games 2 and 3?

tchow: Ben. Simmons.

natesilver: Sen. Bimmons.

chris.herring: Yeah, that sounds about right. Whether it was Jared Dudley that got in his head, or just him recognizing that he had to be more aggressive, Simmons has been a completely different player since Game 1.

tchow: Simmons had a -21 plus/minus in Game 1. Game 2 he was +23, and then +11 in Game 3 with a 31 point performance on 85 percent shooting.

chris.herring: I hate to say this, because maybe it’s premature, but I was beginning to think that the Nets could steal this series if things broke right for them.

tchow: I think a lot of people thought that, Chris. The Nets are legit and play really hard.

chris.herring: The Nets stole home-court advantage in Game 1. Were basically even at halftime of Game 2. And then get a gift rolled out on a platter for them, with Joel Embiid sitting out of a Game 3 played in their home arena, in front of a fan base that hasn’t hosted a playoff game in four years.

Thursday was their chance. And I think with the loss now, that might be about it.

natesilver: I’m in the Ben-Simmons-is-underrated camp. Yeah, he doesn’t really have a jumpshot. But he does pretty much everything else well. And there have been a lot of players throughout NBA history who have survived or even thrived without jump shots — Giannis Antetokounmpo basically does that now. The advanced stats like Simmons.

tchow: I think it’s very different for a player like Giannis to not have a jump shot than Simmons.

chris.herring: While we’re on the issue of Simmons, I think we learned that Embiid not being there might have been a help for him

For all the wonderful things Embiid does, he plays at a plodding pace.

Someone like Simmons thrives in an up-tempo environment because of his inability to shoot.

tchow: Sara, I found the hot take for next week’s Hot Takedown episode: FiveThirtyEight’s Chris Herring says Sixers are better without Joel Embiid.

sara.ziegler: LOLOLOL

Yes!

chris.herring: They might be in this series! Well, probably not: Greg Monroe was rough.

If they had more depth, they might be.

natesilver: That’s the thing about Philly. Look how bad their bench is:

Everyone’s like, “Why are these four stars such awkward fits together” — and I’ll admit that they’re a little awkward, but with a half-decent bench, it’s an entirely different team.

chris.herring: I don’t think it’s a terrible bench. And the truth is, you can stagger when you have that many stars.

But the spots in which it’s terrible … yeah.

tchow: Sixers’ bench: Who? Who? Who? The big guy. Who? and Who?

sara.ziegler:

chris.herring: That’s their issue, I think. I’m not sure Boban Marjanovic would work against every team. But he’s their backup big.

natesilver: I saw Boban at the United Airlines lounge at Newark Airport one time. He was very big and tall and sitting in a giant lounge chair and still looked very big and tall.

chris.herring: I tweeted last night that I’m pretty sure he dunked last night with one foot still on the ground.

Anyway: I want to talk more about how disappointed I am in Brooklyn

tchow: Are you just disappointed in their central A/C system at Barclays, Chris?

I promise it's no warmer than 8 degrees in Barclays Center right now. Cold as hell in here.

— Chris Herring (@Herring_NBA) April 19, 2019

chris.herring: Well, that too.

sara.ziegler: Are you disappointed that their slogan is “We go hard,” and then they didn’t?

chris.herring: They did go hard!

It’s not a question of effort with them. It never is. But I think what Nate alluded to is exactly the issue here. The Sixers’ bench isn’t great/may be bad. And the Nets’ second-best player is their bench.

natesilver: Yeah, Brooklyn’s not totally unlike Denver. Excellent depth, no playoff experience, frontline talent is meh.

tchow: Nate, they’re both small-market teams. I get it. (Queens represent!)

sara.ziegler: OMG

Tony trying to start a borough war here.

chris.herring: You generally see Brooklyn go on these massive runs in the second quarter of these games. But then after halftime, the game gets broken open, and Kenny Atkinson — who I really, really like — waits too long to call a timeout!

The Sixers went on a 21-2 (!!!!) run in Game 2 before Atkinson called for timeout. It took a 1-point deficit and expanded it to a 20-point lead for the Sixers. And then the game was over.

tchow: Maybe Atkinson is from the Phil Jackson school of letting the players figure it out on their own.

natesilver: What was the atmosphere like at Barclay’s, Chris? I think it’s one of the coolest venues in sports from an architectural/amenities standpoint, but every time I’ve gone, the fans are sort of half-hearted.

chris.herring: Last night was amazing to start the game. But I think they were sort of stunned to see the team run out of steam.

And as Tony said: I was freezing.

sara.ziegler: Well, it is a hockey rink, too.

chris.herring: So maybe the have to have the ice ready? But good lord.

My phone turned off at one point because of how cold it was.

sara.ziegler: Wow

That’s cold.

chris.herring: The atmosphere was really great. It’s good to have the playoffs in Brooklyn again. And hopefully Manhattan at some point in the next couple years. (side-eyes Knicks)

natesilver: Knicks fans should be rooting against Boston and against Golden State, right?

chris.herring: I’ve heard the same stuff everyone else has about Kevin Durant and Kyrie Irving coming to the Knicks. As much as I hear it, I just have to see it to believe that it’ll actually happen.

natesilver: I think KD could leave either after a championship or a flameout. But Kyrie — yeah, he’s already flip-flopped enough that I think Knicks fans want the Celtics out by Round 2.

chris.herring: I think I’m just too conditioned to believe that nothing overwhelmingly good can happen for/with the Knicks unless there’s an enormous downside that comes with it.

sara.ziegler: LOL

natesilver: My current scenario is that they get Kyrie and also draft Ja Morant and somehow that turns into a disaster.

sara.ziegler: Speaking of Kyrie, the Celtics are making quick work of the Pacers. Indiana doesn’t seem to have quite enough offense so far to hang with Boston.

chris.herring:

tchow: I’m actually interesting to read Chris’s thoughts on this series. I remember A LOT of people were down on Boston going into the playoffs.

chris.herring: Yeah. I had some hope that this could be an interesting series.

But I also was tasked with writing an Indiana-based primer for the ESPN side ahead of this series. When I got to the “Why Indiana can win section,” I sat and stared at my screen for like an hour.

So this actually doesn’t surprise me all that much.

They simply don’t have enough offense. Or ingenuity.

natesilver: I haven’t watched much of that series; pretty much my only recollection was seeing a score that was like 76-59 in the fourth quarter of Game 1 and thinking I needed to update my contact lens prescription, but nope, that was the actual score.

chris.herring: They basically hand the ball off to Bojan Bogdanovic and say, “Do something.” Kind of like a kid who does a magic trick, but is still holding the quarter in his hand, in plain sight, for everyone to see.

tchow: Has Boston done anything to change people’s minds about their chances though?

chris.herring: No. They’re merely beating a flawed, weakened team, IMO.

tchow: That’s what I figured about Boston. The real test, if they do end up beating the Pacers, will probably come against Milwaukee.

chris.herring: In fairness to Nate McMillan and the Pacers, this was always going to be an uphill battle, because they’re playing without Victor Oladipo. It was a great accomplishment to go 21-21 this season without their star player after going 0-7 without him last season.

sara.ziegler: Yeah, they don’t really have anything to feel embarrassed about.

chris.herring: I really like Indiana, and have a soft spot for Little-Engine-That-Could sort of teams. But they need some reinvention.

They could use more firepower. But they need better schemes.

natesilver: I feel like the whole first round could use more firepower. Between inexperienced teams, teams with injury problems, teams without any star talent … it feels a little bit like spring training or something.

tchow: I agree, but it has been more interesting than I imagined.

chris.herring: A little.

sara.ziegler: Let’s talk about the other interesting series in the East: No. 2 Toronto has had its hands full with No. 7 Orlando. The Magic took the first game, but the Raptors stormed back in Game 2. The teams will face off Friday night in Orlando. Do we think the Magic have a realistic shot in this series?

natesilver: Mayyyyyybe?

chris.herring: It depends on what you define as “a shot.” I think they can get another game, potentially. I don’t think they will win the series. The Raptors responded in Game 2 the way you hoped a top-flight team would.

sara.ziegler: But the Magic are underrated, Chris!

I heard you say so.

chris.herring: Oh, they are. And not enough people know that.

But I don’t think that I ever conflated them being underrated with the notion that they should somehow beat the Raptors in a series.

tchow: Kyle Lowry responded in Game 2 the way you hoped. Chris wrote about Lowry’s Game 1 woes before, but he responded in a big way.

natesilver: Orlando is a weird-ass team, and they played very well in the second half of the season.

If you’re looking for an upset pick, I’d rather pick a weird team than a normal one.

chris.herring: If they had played competitively in Game 2, sure.

Or had a matchup they could readily exploit.

sara.ziegler: The Raptors had a 98 percent chance to win this series before the playoffs start, and now they’re all the way down to 93 percent. So things are still looking pretty good for them.

In the last series in the East, the Bucks had a little trouble with Detroit before pulling away in Game 2. But the most interesting thing to me about that game was Blake Griffin picking up his second technical foul of the series.

Blake Griffin, you’ll recall, has not actually played yet in this series.

tchow: Bucks in four. I think we can move on?

sara.ziegler: LOL

chris.herring: Yeah. That’s literally the only thing I find interesting about this series. That, and finding out how far away from the basket Giannis can dunk from.

tchow: The NBA tweet highlights of Giannis dunks have been the only saving grace of this series.

Giannis Antetokounmpo, Destroyer of Worlds pic.twitter.com/WaXh410LQo

— Rachel Nichols (@Rachel__Nichols) April 18, 2019

chris.herring: If and when the NBA move the first round back to a best-of-five, they’re going to use this series as evidence as why. (edited)

natesilver: I think there needs to be a mercy rule where you can concede your playoff series and get like three Lottery Balls or whatever.

sara.ziegler: OK, let’s move back to the West. The Trail Blazers are off to a great start, up 2-0 against the Thunder. Our model is surprised at this series — it had given the Thunder a 77-23 edge. Are you guys surprised?

chris.herring: Yes. I’m surprised. Maybe stupid, too.

natesilver: I mean, if Paul George isn’t himself, our model is gonna screw that series up.

tchow: He’s hurt!

chris.herring: I feel like a contrarian now, but I don’t even think he’s shoulder is the problem anymore. He shot the ball semi-decently last game.

Russ is shooting like he’s the one injured.

tchow: Our model can’t predict that Russell Westbrook will shoot 35 percent and 10 percent from 3-point range in this series.

chris.herring: EXACTLY

What I will say is that I don’t have a lot of faith in OKC if it’s simply relying on the notion that its shooting will improve.

They are shooting 16 PERCENT from three in this series.

Which, while God awful, is only a slight regression for them!

natesilver: That whole quadrant of the bracket — OKC, Portland, San Antonio, Denver — seems incredibly weak to me.

chris.herring: If OKC had a team full of sharpshooters, I could understand having more confidence.

But Russ still defends Damian Lillard as if he’s surprised that Dame can/will pull up from 35 feet.

The guy needs to be treated as if he’s Steph at this point

tchow: I don’t want to take anything away from Portland. Yes, they lost Jusuf Nurkic, but CJ and Dame have been awesome this series.

chris.herring: I came in thinking that this might be a sweep or a 4-1 series in favor of OKC. Simply thought that not having Nurkic would hurt against someone like Steven Adams. I thought CJ McCollum would struggle to find a rhythm (he’s coming off an injury and wasn’t good vs. OKC during the season). We watched Dame log 35 a night against the Thunder during the season and still get swept 4-0 during the regular season.

tchow: CJ has been

chris.herring: I didn’t think they had a great chance in this series. They had lost 10 playoff games in a row. With the exception of perimeter shooting, I thought just about everything else would be in OKC’s favor. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

tchow: If Dame wasn’t in Portland, would he still be this underrated? It feels like this is a storyline every season.

sara.ziegler: That’s a good question.

How many people regularly see him play?

tchow: Basketball nerds: “Look at Damian Lillard!”

Basketball fans: “Who this?”

chris.herring: I guess we have to define underrated.

natesilver: He was All-NBA First Team last season, no?

But, yeah, Portland has to be one of the least-watched teams in the league, or at least by people not in the Pacific Time Zone.

chris.herring: Even if you know who he is, and how great he is, I think you could objectively look at this series — and what the Blazers have done the last two years in the playoffs (0-8) — and say OKC should have been favored.

tchow: For OKC to take Game 3, they need to ____________.

And don’t say something like “play better” (looks at Nate).

sara.ziegler: SHOOT BETTER

chris.herring: … shoot better than my 4-year-old nephew does from outside of 23 feet.

natesilver: I’d say they need to play better basketball.

sara.ziegler: In the other non-Warriors series out West, the Rockets are handling the Jazz easily so far, setting up a showdown with Golden State in the second round. This has played out about as expected, right?

chris.herring: I had higher hopes for Jazz-Rockets. Am impressed with how dominant Houston has looked, but thought Utah would play better than this. Their defensive scheme has looked downright nonsensical to me

tchow: If Chris has a soft spot for Indiana, I think I have a soft spot for Utah. I love this team and wanted more out of them this series.

sara.ziegler: Utah is a very likable team.

natesilver: I didn’t expect Houston to dismantle Utah quite so thoroughly.

In fact, I think that’s the story of the first round so far. It’s a highly consequential story because the Rockets are absolutely good enough to give the Warriors a series.

chris.herring: The disappointment I feel with Utah is equivalent to how excited I am for the second round, with Warriors-Rockets.

That will seemingly be the Western Conference finals, just a round early.

natesilver: It would be quite something if the Rockets actually need fewer games to dispatch Utah than Golden State needs with the Clippers.

chris.herring: Seriously.

tchow: The Jazz just seem like a team that’s so close to figuring it out. Maybe not to a point where you think they can beat Golden State, but they’re so good in the regular season. I don’t know what happens to them in the playoffs.

chris.herring: Yeah, I sort of agree in theory, Tony.

But I think what I’ve learned is that I have to be leery of a team that relies on such a young player to be its leading scorer.

natesilver: Maybe you just need more isolation scoring in the playoffs? Or more scoring, period?

chris.herring: I remember a stat from last year: Donovan Mitchell was the first rookie to lead a playoff team in regular-season scoring since Carmelo Anthony.

I think there’s a reason we don’t see it happen much. And I think it’s even more problematic for a team built like that to have all sorts of horrible defensive breakdowns, because at that point, you know they have no shot at keeping up in a shootout against one of the best scorers in modern history.

If Quin Snyder rolls out the exact same defensive scheme that he did in Games 1 and 2, this series will end in a sweep.

natesilver: Is Mitchell … a little bit like Carmelo Anthony in that he’s taking too many shots? I mean, I guess he has to take a lot of shots with that lineup. But Utah really needs another player who can create his own shot.

tchow: What if you played a player like Royce O’Neale more? He’s +1.8 on defense (according to our model), and it looks like they do a bit better defensively with him on the floor.

chris.herring: He’s another example of what Nate is talking about, though: A guy that isn’t likely to create his own shot.

This is a team that will need to take a long, hard look at itself this summer despite how well it’s played during the second half of these last two seasons.

tchow: One obvious fix would be to get rid of Grayson Allen.

KIDDING!!!

natesilver: I also think Utah benefits from being a bit unorthodox. Rubio is an unorthodox point guard. They’re defense-first. They can play at a slow pace, although they picked up their pace a lot this year. They’re well-coached. So there’s an advantage from game-planning in the regular season. But Daryl Morey and the Rockets are going to study the hell out of the Jazz and know how to counter.

chris.herring: Some of these teams are built to play really, really well in the regular season. And there’s incredible value in that, for seeding purposes, etc.

But the inability to change your playing style when you’re forced to is often fatal this time of year.

sara.ziegler: Finally, Golden State seemed like Golden State in Game 3 of their series against the Clippers. So that panic appears to be over?

chris.herring: Hell, they seemed like Golden State in Game 2 to me!

It was just a massive collapse at the end of Game 2.

sara.ziegler: LOL

chris.herring: I actually pointed out yesterday that the game played out exactly the same way for a long while:

Steph got his fourth foul tonight with Warriors up 24. Kerr subbed him out at 8:39 in the 3Q.

Steph got his fourth foul on Monday with Warriors were up 28. Kerr subbed him out at 8:39 left in the 3Q.

— Chris Herring (@Herring_NBA) April 19, 2019

natesilver: Our model thought the DeMarcus Cousins injury was a pretty big deal. Although I think it overrated how effective Cousins had been this season.

sara.ziegler: All season, Cousins has been more about potential in our model.

But the Warriors didn’t need him early in the season, obviously.

tchow: I have nothing much to say about this series, but I do want to point readers to this interview KD gave before Game 3.

Kevin Durant goes extremely in depth on the Clippers style of defense, the overhelp, why he won’t get caught up in a 1-on-1 battle with Patrick Beverley pic.twitter.com/nOdmTDY4yi

— Anthony Slater (@anthonyVslater) April 17, 2019

natesilver: It’s not that they’re going to lose to the Clippers, but I do just have to wonder about a team’s mentality when they can blow a 30-point lead.

chris.herring: NBC analyst Tom Haberstroh pointed out that Steph was only averaging 19.9 points per 36 minutes this season with Boogie on the court, and that he essentially morphed into Malcolm Brogdon.

Averaged 31.4 points per 36 minutes without DeMarcus on the floor.

sara.ziegler: Wow

natesilver: I mean, part of that might be that Steph was being deferential in an effort to get Cousins feeling like himself again.

chris.herring: EXACTLY

Which … there isn’t time to do that in the playoffs.

tchow: Definitely. I think Steph went through a similar dip when KD joined too.

chris.herring: The last thing you want is Steph playing nice when you need him to be Steph.

natesilver: It does just seem kind of impossible when you have to shut down Steph AND KD and Klay. Even if the rest of the team kind of sucks.

chris.herring: I tend to think this helps them for now, but the Rockets series was one of the overarching reasons they signed Cousins — to make it so Houston couldn’t switch as much as they did on them last year

natesilver: Yeah. So in some ways, we’re back to last year’s series, which was as even as it gets. The Rockets lately are playing as well as last year. And the Warriors without Cousins are basically last year’s team.

sara.ziegler: After this matchup, will we even want to finish out the playoffs??

natesilver: Well, the Western Conference finals are likely to be an anti-climax.

tchow: LOL. Yes! I for one am very interested to see who comes out of the East to play against Warriors/Rockets.

Check out our latest NBA predictions.

from News About Sports https://fivethirtyeight.com/features/the-biggest-surprises-from-the-first-week-of-the-nba-playoffs/