#they wore cylinders :3

[cfffrk]

What if Jeeves had worked as a page boy at a private boys' school in his youth?

[tfmerc]

farmhand!Simon Riley and famersdaughter!Reader…

she’s all country and soft, heavy southern accent and rosy cheeks — Simon’s all dirty with a washed out english accent and scarred, pale skin : (

possible set up for an AU series??

read more bellow cut :3

The afternoon breeze was colder than usual, sun setting earlier as winter began its course over the mountains of your daddy’s ranch. Wrapping a worn, patched flannel close to yourself; wanting to keep any warmth your body was providing tight to your skin as you descended downhill towards the barn.

You could see Simon’s large form, axe held lazily in his left hand while he huddled a stack of cut wood under his right arm; huffs of his steamy breath turning into mist as it fades into the air.

Tight compression shirt clinging to the softening muscles in his shoulders and back, the same heavy denim jeans he always wore; covered in patches of old fabrics, an attempt of your Mama’s to avoid Simon having to buy new pants.

The sound of your mud-caked boots crunching against the gravel drew the man’s attention. A soft huff, almost grunt, passed the man’s lips; nodding your way as an acknowledgement to your presence, “How ya’ doin’ sweet’eart?”

“Chirpy as always,” Your head tilted gently, bouncing on the balls off your feet as you spoke; cheeks rosy from the cold as you took a second to truly admire the Britt’s body. Eyes fixated on the way Simon’s arms rippled under his clothing as he slowly stacked the freshly cut wood by the back doors.

It was hard not to stare, lost in a daze as you daydreamed; lashes fluttering as your eyes wandered in such an obvious way. Fingers fumbling with the thermos you’d been carrying, a large portion of pumpkin soup you’d made stored away - waiting to be gifted to the large veteran.

A small scoff of amusement escaped Simon's lips as he approached you. Dirt and sweat marked his skin as he dropped the fresh cut maple on the growing pile, pausing for a moment to slide a cigarette between his lips, "You warm enough?"

“Don’t plan to be out for long,” You shake your head softly as you wave a hand dismissively, eyes shining with such puppy-like enthusiasm as you take a step closer towards Simon; arms extending out as you cradle the thermos as if it were a cup of hot cocoa, “‘ere ya’ go, made it myse’f...”

Simon hummed, calloused hands reaching out to accept the offering; fingers brushing against yours . He’d grown more than accustomed to your little acts of service, though it was still… confusing at times. “You ever gonna let me pay you back for all this coddlin’, lassie?”

“Well… it is my daddy that’s got you out here choppin’ wood,” There was an almost teasing tone hidden amongst your words, eyes soft and half lidded as they tracked the movements of Simon — watching as he slowly unscrewed the thermos, “Just making sure you stay fed, Mr. Riley.”

“And that ya’ do…” Streams of steam escaped and mixed into the cool air. The large blond raised the cylinder towards his nose, eyes never leaving your soft body. A soft rumbling sound of pleasure echoed from his chest, blond lashes fluttering as the smell of pumpkin soup filled the air around him, “A’right, go flying little birdie.”

[hirocimacruiser]

●CEFIRO (A31) Autech version

●Overall length x overall width x overall height: 4690 x 1695 x 1375mm Wheelbase: 2670 mm ●Tread (F/R): 1460/1455mm Vehicle weight: 1400kg

Engine: RB20DET water-cooled inline 6-cylinder DOHC turbo 1998cc Maximum output:225PS/6000rpm Maximum torque: 30.0kg-m/2800rpm Suspension Front (F/R): Strut/Multilink Brake (F/R): V disc/V disc Price: 3,393,000 yen (5MT)

BUYER'S MEMO

Market price rises due to popularity of drifting

Due to the popularity of drifting and the so-called "oni camp", the used car market price for the A31 Cefiro, which has become popular as a base car with such specifications, seems to have gone up. Of these, the most popular is the twin-cam turbo sports cruising model. As far as this grade is concerned, 1.2 million yen is still a ridiculous amount. Additionally, unfortunately, there are fewer cars in normal state.

The Autech version, which is the vehicle we photographed this time, is produced in extremely low numbers, so even if you can find a good one, it will definitely be quite expensive.

PIC CAPTIONS

By adding a large turbine to the RB20DET and changing the cam and port shapes, it produces 225PS, an increase of 20PS.

The genuine leather-wrapped steering wheel that fits comfortably in your hand is made by Italvolante, Italy. This is also an equipment exclusive to Autech.

Aluminum wheels made by PIAA exclusively for the Autech version Cefiro

The size is 6JJ x 15, which is the same as the normal one.

Autech version exclusive emblems attached to the left and right sides of the front fender.

Carefully tanned Connolly leather

The seat is fully equipped with adjustment mechanisms such as dual lifters and lumbar support.

Exclusive seat and door trim made from genuine leather made by British company Connolly, which has a luxurious feel and has been used on many famous European cars and luxury cruise ships.

A trunk with a mechanism that turns into a tray and armrest when folded down. Also trunk hood

A special rear spoiler is installed.

The same rear multi-link suspension as the Silvia is made up of multiple links and ideally controls tire movement according to road conditions. The basic movements of running, turning, and stopping exhibit extremely high levels of grip.

Demonstrate your ability to move.

Early type sports touring. After MC in 1992, all cars were 2.5 liters with 3 number plates.

Since the Autech version was also slightly changed after the first MC, there are two types: an early type and a mid-term type.

MAIN TEXT TRANSLATION.

Our Standard Neo Historic Jays

Anti-high-soccer cars that bring a new sensation

Cefiro is a car that is often seen in towns and mountain passes with a strong negative camber and is considered to be a representative example of a demon-camber spec car. Nowadays, we have a strong image of such a drift machine, but when it was first announced, it had a very different impression. Under the catchphrase ``Kuneru Asobu,'' the product was sold with a strong personality and a unique coordination system that appealed to the new sensibilities of urban comfort enthusiasts. Eventually, as this new sensation wore off, another side began to attract attention. Well-made suspension with multi-link + HICAS-II, high-power engine, and FR...

Text: Yoshio Ishikawa Photography: Hiroyuki Matsuoka Vehicle cooperation: Kenichiro Takashima

A new sensation sedan introduced during the Mark II's heyday.

Today's sedans are said to be ``sluggish'' due to being pushed around by buskers and the like, but 10 years ago it was often said that sedans were enjoying the spring of the world in the mid to late 1980s. I was in a situation where I was.

Among these, the upper middle class has seen particularly rapid growth. This must have been an expression of the consciousness that all 100 million people are middle class. Under the name High Society, the popularity of the white Mark II continues to grow.

He was showing great strength.

It has a sense of class that will make you look good wherever you go, and the equipment is full of Toyota's hospitality. Armed with this feeling of ``I can feel safe with this,'' the Mark II is my father's favorite. It received a lot of support not only from users of different generations, but also from young male users who wanted to be popular with girls. No. 2 Nissan was the one most anxious about the Mark II's dominance. The R31, which debuted in 1985, shifted the Skyline, which had gained a fixed fan base due to its sports orientation, to a luxury route. We carried out major reforms.

However, this makeover ended up being a failure.

Waru. Therefore, Nissan came up with the next step, which was to create a clear model compared to the Mark II/Chaser/Cresta, which differed only in design taste.

The method was to pit three cars with different personalities against each other. The first stage of this was its debut in September 1988.

This is the first generation Cefiro that was visible. Incidentally, Nissan would later launch the Laurel in December and the R32 Skyline in May of the following year, completing the upper middle three-car alliance.

What is difficult here is the character of each car.

That's it. As for the existing models Skyline and Laurel, the former is a return to and evolution of a sports saloon, while the latter is a re-proposal of the luxury sedan model with a slightly defective essence sprinkled on it. The problem is the new model Cefiro, which is a new model whose core users are relatively young people in their early 30s.

It was positioned as a sensational sedan.

The focus is on style and packaging.

What's new about Cefiro?

Multi-link suspension adopted at the rear,

DUETIS S with integrated control of supersonic suspension and electronically controlled power steering, HICAS-II 4WS with maximum turning angle of 1 degree.

The focus is on style and packaging.

What's new about Cefiro?

Multi-link suspension adopted at the rear,

DUET-S S with integrated control of supersonic suspension and electronically controlled power steering, refinement of HICAS-II 4WS mechanism with maximum turning angle of 1 degree. There were many points of interest in terms of mechanics, such as the straight-six RB engine that achieved sharp response due to its improved performance but what stood out most of all were the styling and packaging. Although it was a sedan, its rounded design, which resembled a monoform rather than a three-box design, was innovative and seemed to be a direct commercialization of the direction Nissan had proposed at the motor show with its concept cars CUE-X and ARC-X. The basic packaging is long and low nose/short and high deck, which is typical of European cars, but what was new about Cefiro was that it didn't emphasize this too much and unified the whole car with a softer image.

Details such as projector headlamps being adopted as standard for the first time, this collection of lights, and rear combination lamps placed in continuous black garnishes on the left and right sides emphasize a new sense of style. In any case, the Cefiro had an exterior that made you think, ``Wow, this is a sedan with a shape that has never been seen before.''

Also, the grade is “Cefiro Coordination "

He developed a unique method called "coordination." All engines are 2-liter inline 6-cylinder, but cars equipped with SOHC RB20E are used for town riding, cars equipped with DOHC RB20DE are used for touring, and DOHC+ turbo RB20DET specifications are used for sports driving.

Three types are available under the name Lusing. There are two types of suspension: DUET-S S is comfort and HICAS-II is sports. Additionally, three interior styles are available: dandy, elegant, and modern, and you can choose any combination of these.

It had become a system.

9 body colors and 2 types interior

If you include the interior base colors that have been set, there are over 900 combinations, which is amazing. The Cefiro Coordination, a ready-made choice system, is said to be a great weapon for people in their 30s who are particular about comfort in their lives and are particular about food, clothing, and housing.

The production team must have calculated this.

Yosui Inoue's TV commercial ``How are you all?'' and the catchphrase ``Kuneru Asobu,'' which seems obvious but is not very clear, also helped to attract attention, and Cefiro quickly became a popular model immediately after it's appearance. The Cefiro was certainly groundbreaking at the time, offering a new design and the natural beauty of its styling as the antithesis of the upwardly mobile, high-speed car line . However, because its freshness was its selling point, there was a strong tendency for it to become a trendy product, and although at one point the three-car alliance was steadily increasing the number of units sold, it gradually became less popular.

Cefiro slows down. In 1992 in addition to widening the body with moldings and installing a 2.5L engine, minor changes were made to the the design in the direction of diluting its characteristics, and although it ended up being a car with a long lifespan of 6 years, it fell into a rather obscure state in its final years.

The second generation, which appeared in 1994, was integrated with the Maxima and transformed into a full-fledged three-number FF saloon.

Although it lacks the strong individuality and new proposals of the first generation, it continues to exist today as a popular model that maintains the basics.

However, the interesting thing about the first-generation Cefiro is that in recent years it has suddenly come into the spotlight as a handling machine for the mountain passers. Touring manual transmissions, which were an overwhelming minority at the time, fetched unusually high prices, and people finally replaced ATs with manual transmissions.

It even created a movement to convert. The most important factor behind its popularity is the affordable price of a used car, but I think that behind its popularity is the freshness and youthfulness that the original Cefiro still has.

It is analyzed that the effect is small.

A sporty saloon where you can seriously enjoy FR

Now, it's been a long time since I've faced Cefiro.

faced. Secretly “oni campaign”

I was scared that someone would come.

However, the test car was the Autech version that was released in January 1990. This is a special Cefiro based on the sports cruising model of RB20DET+HICAS-II, which has a +20PS power increase using a ball bearing turbo, harder suspension, full aero parts, and a Connolly leather seat.

The price is nearly 800,000 yen higher than the normal model, which is why the initial monthly sales target was 30 of them, so how rare is this model?

I know it's Del.

I have no recollection of test driving this Autech version when it was new, so this will be my first experience. Compared to normal sports cruising, the engine power is clearly superior, and although it seems that the effective boost rises at a slightly higher rpm, it is truly powerful from around 350O rpm to the rev limit of 7500 rpm. This time it was an AT specification, and this one is also set to take advantage of the engine's characteristics to pull the car to its limit. As you might expect, the shift shock is quite large, and if you drive like this all the time, the load on the AT will be considerable.

I'm worried that this will happen, but anyway...

The speed of a modern 2-liter sports sedan

There is no big difference when compared to.

As a high power FR with great driving abilityit is quite stable. So that's why you can attack to the fullest.

Drift machine with demon camp specifications

This image may make the Cefiro seem frivolous, but the true nature of this car is that it is a sporty FR saloon that was built with great seriousness. Therefore, I seriously want to master the movement of FR without making any strange modifications.

This is the perfect machine for those who

want do this.

Tester Yoshio Ishikawa

When the era name changed from the Showa era to the Heisei era, a boom in self-restraint began, led by the line "How are you?" in a Cefiro commercial. The role of Yosui is played by Yoshio, who looks good in sunglasses. the female driver next door

Ichi is a rock-paper-scissors girl who is rumored on the street.

[fiorildi-ar]

I guess I should start keeping a journal, I mean, that’s why I’m writing this. I’m not sure exactly who this is for because people will just think I’m some kid posting fun stories on the internet, but maybe this will help someone else wake up. I’m not sure how it happened, Kris doesn’t know either, I don’t think they trust me, but one day I was just hanging out with a friend, and they called me the wrong name, except, I know now it’s who I really am. But then I started being aware of my surroundings as if I were in a dream, and I was, we all are. Except… we don’t wake up. Not usually that is.

I woke up sitting, my chest resting on a cold metal rod. I didn’t try to move, my body was so sore it hurt too much. When I opened my eyes everything was so bright I immediately shut them again. I could feel my heart pounding. I’m not sure how long went by, but eventually I heard a door unlock and slide open, I kept my head dangled.

“This one?” His voice boomed like it had come from a megaphone. I couldn’t help but flinch. Immediately my entire body felt aflame. I tried to let out a scream, but couldn’t because of the contraption attached to my mouth that I only then noticed. “Dail.” A woman whispered sternly. “Were you not briefed? You must speak softly. Now all their vitals will have spiked. There’s probably 50 more of those drones on their way now. They know we’re here.” My concern marginally decreased. “Then I’ll work fast.”

I heard them unzip a bag and then a blowtorch being lit. It felt blinding even with my eyes closed. “We’ll let Steve remove what’s left.” Thankfully, wherever they used the blowtorch was distant enough from me that it only felt warm. It was during this process that I started to get my bearings. I was sitting on what felt like a stone bench, and I didn’t have any restraints on my arms or legs. I tried feeling around a little, which my two “saviors” giggled at. Thankfully the noise didn’t seem so loud anymore, but… I didn’t really think about that in the moment. Next to me were two other… bodies? They felt cold, and I couldn’t feel a pulse, but they had the same contraptions hooked up to their mouth, and the front of their skull. That thing in my skull. I can still feel it. Constantly. Too dangerous to remove. With every turn of my head, with every faint breeze it rings through my head. A pain I can not describe…

I heard a loud clang and instinctively opened my eyes. There was still quite a bit left stuck to my head, extending at least 6 inches from my mouth and skull and connecting at one joint. Across from me were more bodies slouched over. To my left and right more bodies slouched over as far as I could see until they were shrouded in darkness. They were all connected to the same type of contraption I was. The joint connected to a cylinder maybe 3 inches in diameter, which then sprouted off into a mess of cables. The corridor was triangular, and where you’d expect the walls to connect at the height of the room there was instead a large gap where all the cables ran through.

I stared blankly at the man and woman. I didn’t believe this to be real, and I wanted desperately to wake from this nightmare. They both wore black one-peices that covered everything except their shaved heads and had a pocket that opened with a zipper on their right breast.

They grabbed me and hoisted me over the metal bar. They struggled to carry me from their shoulders, and cursed frequently about how lazy Cold Ones are when they first wake up.

They didn’t have to worry about that long though because eventually I started to hear a whirring noise, and spurred on by the dread in my heart I hastily began flailing and failing to use my faculties. I didn’t need to say anything for them to let me fall to the floor and take off running.

[questforgalas]

Of Legends and Reality

Summary: Commander Cody meets his assigned general, Obi-Wan Kenobi, for the first time. Growing up with legends of the Jedi gave Cody an image of the perfect warrior he'd carried for 10 years. The Jedi in front of him was not what he had in mind.

Notes: This ended up being an ode to Obi-Wan, but I mean, what doesn't. I have a HC I've held onto for awhile that the clones had these grand, mythical images of the Jedi in their minds because they only heard stories of them on Kamino, and then as each commander/captain meets their Jedi, that image is torn to pieces in the best way. Hope you enjoyed this meeting with Obi-Wan and Cody!

WC: 2.7K

Tags: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Commander Cody, Platonic Obi-Wan and Cody, first meetings

Tay's Masterlist

On AO3

There were 3 things Cody was absolutely certain of:

He is a Marshal Commander in the Grand Army of the Republic, leader of the 212th, responsible for 1000s of his brothers

He is assigned to General Obi-Wan Kenobi, member of the Jedi Council, and a warrior of legend if the rumors were anything to listen to

His general just walked into a droid and apologized to it

Cody reported to the briefing room at exactly 0757 giving him three minutes to collect himself before meeting his assigned general. A current buzzed through the clone commander’s blood when he heard he was meeting his Jedi because, for 10 years, Cody and his brothers heard legends of the warriors they would one day serve under to protect the Republic, and, yet, Obi-Wan Kenobi impressively erased 10 years of legends in 20 seconds.

At 0759, the door to the briefing room opened, and Cody turned his attention to the figure walking in. First, he noticed that instead of being clad in head-to-toe armor, the man wore a simple tunic and pants spun from basic, beige fabric, brown leather boots, and a matching wide belt around his waist. An unimposing silver and black cylinder hung on his hip. The stranger continued to make his way into the room, but a GNK droid crossed his path, and instead of swerving out of the droid’s way, he ran right into the corner of it. The impact wasn’t enough to topple the droid over, but the man stumbled, planting his hands on top of the GNK to regain his balance.

“Apologies little one. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” The man said while he gave the droid a little pat.

“GONK GONK,” the droid waddled on its way.

Cody was thankful for the helmet hiding his face because he was sure his expression was an even mix of bewilderment and shock.

While growing up, entertainment wasn’t easy to come by on Kamino, and a favorite past time amongst the cadets was retelling the latest story from Kal Skirata. Skirata was one of the mandalorians Jango Fett recruited to assist with the training of the clone troopers, and true to his Mandalorian roots, he took the cadets under his wing, treating them like his children rather than just soldiers for cannon fodder. During their breaks, he’d gather them around and tell stories of his encounters with the Jedi, a circle of cadets hanging onto his every word, eyes brighter than twin suns. When training was finished for the day, imaginations running wild, the younglings would run to the barracks or mess hall, wherever their brothers were gathered, and reenact what they just heard.  

Cody wasn’t immune to the fantasy, caught in the deep fascination of the force-wielders that had taken hold of his brothers. He’d never confess to it, but he and Wolffe would sneak into the supply closets, grab a couple brooms, and put on their best lightsaber duels. Bly walked in on them once. He only promised to keep quiet after Wolffe let him participate.

So, as it goes, an army raised in isolation grasped onto the legends of warriors with 10 years of time to conjure up images of the Jedi they’d call generals and commanders. Cody kep his image in mind. It wasn’t what was in front of him. Call him naïve, but he didn’t think a ruthless warrior who could take down any being in the galaxy while levitating the objects around them would be walking into GNK droids, let alone gently patting it with an apology.

Perhaps this wasn’t Obi-Wan. Maybe this was a messenger, a new Jedi in training, here to tell Cody that Obi-Wan was running late with council duties, on his way back from taking down a planet-wide coup he resolved single-handedly with nothing but his lightsaber and his wit.

But the man continued into the room, giving a look back at the GNK waddling to its destination, and then making his way around the table to Cody. His stride gave an illusion of sure confidence, but Cody’s training caught the miniscule hesitations in the swing of his arms and darting around of soft blue eyes that gave away the man’s nerves. Once again Cody found himself questioning if this was actually one of the steadfast legends he’d grown up hearing about.

The man came to a stop in front of him, a warm smile peaking from under a trimmed, ginger beard. Hand stretched out, those blue eyes focused on the T of Cody’s visor.

“Hello there. I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi. I’m to meet CC-2224 here, and seeing as you’re the only other person in the room, am I correct to assume that’s you?”

Fitting his hand with the Jedi’s, Cody responded, “Yes, sir. CC-2224 reporting for duty. It’s an honor to meet and serve with you, sir.”

As Cody spoke, he caught a faint grimace on Obi-Wan’s face that disappeared as quickly as it came.

“I apologize, Commander, I mean no disrespect by my question, but do you perhaps go by something besides a number? I understand the Kaminoans are efficient, and I’m happy to address you by whichever identity you choose, but I, well, addressing a being by a number seems, impersonal,” Obi-Wan stammered through his question, crimson rushing to his cheeks but sincerity in his eyes. Cody was stunned. Why would a commanding officer care about what they called him?

“The Kaminoans only address us by number, sir, but most troopers choose a name before shipping off. Sometimes it’s chosen by us, and sometimes it’s chosen by our brothers. You can call me Cody, sir.” Pride coating his words, he felt his mind relax when he saw the smile on the Jedi grow.

“Very well. Commander Cody, it’s an honor and pleasure to meet you. I imagine we’ll be spending a lot of time together over the unknown future. Although, I’m sorry that it’s come to this for us meeting each other.”

Obi-Wan was setting a record for number of times you can surprise someone in a minute. All of their lives, the clones were told it was their purpose to serve under the Jedi and protect the Republic – this was inevitable. Why was his general sorry that the inevitable was happening? That the very reason for Cody’s existence was in motion?

“Not to worry, sir. This is what –“

Obi-Wan quickly raised his hand to halt Cody, “Apologies again Commander, but by any chance you wouldn’t mind removing your helmet?”

Cody’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but his arms automatically reached up, grabbing hold of the bucket and lifting it off his head. Muscle instinct tucked it to his left side all the while trying to not give away his growing puzzlement. There were a million more of him, he was nothing to look at. He was quite literally created to die, copies of him in every corner of the GAR, and it didn’t matter if the Jedi in front of him knew his face or not.

“As I was saying, sir, this I what we were made for, my brothers and I. War is inevitable for us,” Cody simply explained.

He gave credit to the Jedi, Obi-wan was good at masking. To an untrained eye, he’d seem indifferent, but the sorrow in his eyes and quick down-twitch of his lips told Cody a different story. Obi-Wan was disturbed by what he heard.

“Ah, well. I’m sorry that’s the truth of your creation, Commander. I want to assure you though, you’re not,” Obi-Wan paused, eyes darting as he grasped what to say. “You’re not war fodder. Not to me. To any of us. The Jedi. You are men, and men I’m responsible for. I’m learning on the go, but be assured that the well being of your brothers, of our men, is my top priority. I will employ every strategy to ensure a victory for the Republic, but most importantly, a victory for them.”

The sky blue of Obi-Wan’s eyes transformed into stormy grey, as ruthless and firm as the sincerity in his pledge to the commander.

“That. That means a lot to me and my men, sir,” Cody felt his response weak compared to the conviction in Obi-Wan’s voice, but it was all he could think of as his brain continued to short circuit, adjusting to the reality introduced to him over the last few minutes.

“I look forward to meeting them.” A hand swept through long, ginger hair, pushing it behind an ear, and Obi-Wan took this time to look around the briefing room, seeming to take it in for the first time. “I’ll be honest with you Commander, this is all very new to me. I’m sure it comes as no surprise that diplomatic negotiations require different tactics than battles. Usually much shorter.” Obi-Wan gave a sly smirk.

“That may be so, sir, but rumor around the barracks is you’ve seen some impressive combat in the recent years. You could say the boys of the 212th are excited to serve under the only Jedi to face two Sith lords in a century. Please excuse their eager questions when they meet you. You might be the closest thing to a celebrity they have.”

If possible, the blush on Obi-Wan’s cheeks deepened to a red that would match the Corrie Guard’s armor. His left arm hugged around his waist while his right elbow rested atop its wrist, his hand resting under his chin, absentmindedly stroking his beard. The Jedi’s eyes thought the ground around Cody’s boots was the most interesting spot in the room, and the commander held in an astonished laugh as he realized the Jedi was embarrassed.

“Kal Skirata is one heck of a storyteller,” Cody thought.

Finding the scene in front of him too amusing, Cody remained quiet as Obi-Wan worked through what to say. His mouth opened and close, little stammers making their way past his lips, but he eventually worked his way to words.

“That’s, uh, very kind of you to say, Commander.” Obi-Wan rubbed the back of his neck. “They were, uh, duels of necessity. I try not to make a habit of engaging with Sith.”

“Either way, it’s still an honor, sir, and nothing to take lightly. I’m sure some of the boys will try to see those combat skills up close in the rec room,” Cody hoped his attempt at banter would put Obi-Wan at ease, and he was awarded with a soft chuckle, the Jedi back to stroking his beard.

“Not something I’m unfamiliar with. My padawan was always eager to mention to whoever would listen that he trains with the ‘Sith slayer’, as the other younglings nicknamed me. Always amusing how obvious little ones are when they think they’re being subtle. Not hard to eavesdrop when their idea of a whisper is a normal conversation.” As he spoke, Obi-Wan’s attention focused out the window that overlooked the Coruscant skyline. Fondness took root in his gaze, and Cody recognized it easily. Kamino wasn’t blankets and bedtime stories, but his brothers gave him memories scattered through his upbringing that prompted the same look the Jedi currently held.

“Padawan, sir? Not familiar with the term.” Cody decided to prolong this moment for the general, if not just for a little longer.

“Yes, padawan. I imagine it’s most similar to a cadet for what you’re familiar with. When Jedi are young, around 9 years old, they go through the trials and are appointed a Jedi master. Their teacher to show them the ways of the force, of being a Jedi, and perhaps most important, how to grow through life. I guess it’s the closest thing to a parent a Jedi will have,” Obi-Wan explained. “My padawan and I had a less traditional start. I won’t bore you with the details now, but Anakin and I grew past our rocky beginning together, and I trained him for 10 years. He was just knighted the other day – our graduation ceremony you could say – and now he’s leading a battalion.”

There wasn’t a lot for Cody to reference regarding traditional families given his non-traditional life, but as Obi-Wan spoke, still stroking his beard, staring out the window with a look of what Cody could only describe as adoration, it was clear to the commander that Anakin held a significant place in Obi-Wan’s heart. Adoration was replaced by a smirk when the Jedi’s focus was back on Cody.

“Granted, I hope that whomever he’s assigned to is ready for some, how shall I say, creative approaches to battle. Anakin means well, but he’s as headstrong as he is confident, and I’m fairly certain his confidence could fuel the entire Jedi Order.”

“Any chance you remember which battalion he’s assigned to, sir?” Cody asked.

“I believe the 501st is coming to mind.” Obi-Wan’s answer pulled a deep laugh from Cody.

“Oh, don’t worry, sir. Your padawan’s in good hands. In fact, based on your description, I think that might be a match made by the Maker itself. My brother CT-75, uh, Rex, is just as fond of unusual strategies as it sounds like your padawan is.”

“Oh goody, sounds like we’ll have some entertainment during this war,” Obi-Wan couldn’t hide the amusement in his tone. Cody let the ease that had taken over the interaction calm the remaining tension his body was harboring. A comfortable silence settled over the two while an ambience of scanner beeps filled the space, and Cody took this opportunity to take in the man in front of him.

Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn’t clad in sleek armor, walking as if one with the air, holding back the deadly grace of a Nexu. Most likely if you passed by him on the street, you wouldn’t spare him a second glance, mistaking him for a hermit or a beggar, but Cody was starting to think that maybe he missed the important bits of Skirata’s stories.

It was easy to understand why a young clone created from a warrior would hold onto legends of a single being taking down a whole rebellion. Of swords made from kyber, or of battles fought entirely with an invisible strength only the Jedi possessed. But he missed the compassion found in sparing lives, even those that didn’t deserve saving. He missed the determined will honed through decades, even centuries, of disciplined training. He missed the unconditional love for a galaxy that can be flawed and ugly, always finding the good beneath the seemingly endless layers of scum.

He realized those qualities, together in perfect balance, were the legends of his childhood, and standing before him in a beige tunic, without a single piece of armor in sight, minutes after walking into a GNK droid, was the perfect warrior.

A beep from Obi-Wan’s commlink startled both men out of their thoughts, and a quick tap to his wrist silenced the alarm. The Jedi looked up at Cody expectantly.

“It appears we must be on our way, Commander. We are to make our way to Christophsis for our first engagement.”

“Right away, sir. I just need to stop by the platform above us to check in on a brother. They’re meeting their general shortly.” Cody kept to himself it was Rex waiting, and he couldn’t wait to see Rex’s reaction to their generals’ connection.

“Can’t get rid of me so easily, little brother.”

Obi-Wan waved his hand dismissively as he turned to the door. “Of course, Commander. In the meantime, perhaps you could enlighten me to the story of how you received that scar. It looks like quite the event.” Sweat beaded on Cody’s forehead as images of supply-closet brooms and fake duels flashed in his mind.

As if they’d been practicing the dance for years, Cody and Obi-Wan fell into step, strides matching, side-by-side. It wasn’t often that you met legends. Even less often that those legends turned out to be greater than the stories. Taking note of any GNKs in their path, Cody walked with pride next to his general, looking forward to adding to the legends the cadets would be telling on Kamino. This time though, the legends will have a name. And that name is Obi-Wan Kenobi.

[wall-eye]

19 and 21 for the weird asks :3

19. imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

what color do you want crow? its been a while since ive painted anyones nails but ill do my best to do it neatly

21. something you’ve kept since childhood?

local radio station shirt i got for free at some race and climbed under the bleachers and scraped my knees for when i was like 5 my beloved. i wore it as a night gown and now its just a sleep shirt. its comfortably oversized still. also shout out to the little pink fluffy cylinder pillow that has a scorch mark and a hole in a seam and little stuffing left, and to the little brown blanket that makes it a billion times easier to sleep

[al3xy1111]

Rating looks from the 2023 fall collection of Comme Des Garcons

Look #1

My thoughts on...

THE HEAD-DRESS

I personally love the bright colors and shape of the headpiece, it also looks as if it's made from yarn or some sort of fluffy, woven fabric with wire inside. On the model, the colors don't really go with her skin tone washes her out. IF she had big hair to pair with it, it'd most likely go better with her complexion.

THE DRESS

I love the color of the dress, just not on the model's skin tone. The collar adds dimension and makes it less monochrome; breaking up a bit of the color. I can't say much about how it looks on her body, mainly because you can barely see the shape of the model. The bow-like shapes add a sense of 3D and spunk to the outfit; personally, I'd wear this dress to an event.

THE SHOES

The shoes are the least busy of all the pieces. Personally, I would've gone with shoes with googly eyes or bows to match the dress with the same colors on the headdress as laces, just so there's more of a "flow" in the outfit.

Look #2

My thoughts on...

THE HEAD-DRESS

I'm not sure if what's on her head is hair or a hair-like textured headpiece, either way, I like how it goes with everything color scheme-wise.

THE DRESS

Pink is my favorite color, so I had to choose this look. The pink doesn't wash out the model because she has warm undertones in her complexion. The dress's writing makes you want to stare at her all day and figure out what it says; it draws you in to look more closely at the outfit. From what I can tell, she has a box-like build. This outfit does not flatter her curves or waistline or collar bones, instead, it covers everything up.

THE BOOTS

I actually quite like the contrast between formal and casual with the boots. Even though it doesn't flow with the outfit, it acts as a "pop" factor, where you're not expecting it.

Look #3

My thoughts on...

THE HEAD-DRESS

Since I already talked about this piece that was on a different outfit, look above for my thoughts.

THE OUTFIT

The baby blue is such a nice color on the model's skin. The undershirt has a lovely pattern on it that compliments the overcoat. I also like how the undershirt is untucked, it gives the outfit more of a "free spirit" to it. From what I can tell, the model has a box-like shape, with wide shoulders, If he wore something more revealing of his broad shoulders or a V-neck, that would compliment his shape more.

THE BOOTS

Since I already talked about this piece that was on a different outfit, look above for my thoughts.

Look #4

My thoughts on...

HEAD-DRESS

On top of the model's head, the head-dress looks like a cylinder-shaped out of hair, with the actual hair inside. I like that this look's headpiece look differs from the other models I had seen and stands out.

OUTFIT

The leather jacket is such a nice overcoat for this look, especially under the vertical striped shirt button-up underneath. The shorts make the outfit look less formal and more in the middle, which is a personal like of mine.

Look #5

My thoughts on...

HEADDRESS

The headdress on this outfit isn't my favorite, as it looks as though a dove had taken a dump on her head. I will say though it does look nice with the outfit.

THE OUTFIT

In this outfit, you can barely see her body shape or any part of her upper body down to her thighs. I don't quite like this piece and it reminds me of a bunch of pillows stuffed together.

[jolienjoyswriting]

The Maiden in the Mist (ft. Riku (the-minuscule-task), Ch. III

Chapter 3 of 4 for "The Maiden in the Mist," a fan fiction story.

Riku gets Joseph alone in her tea room.  And then… they have tea?

Word count: 2,969 – Character count: 17,117 Drafted: April 5th, 2023 Revised: April 6th, 2023 –

"Wah~!  What are we gonna do on the straw mat~?"

Honestly, this whole story was inspired by a certain drawing Task did… which I'm inclined not to share here for "content" reasons. (Said drawing happened in Chapter 2.)  But, beyond that… I definitely fell in love with an Eastern dragon~

Riku and related characters and concepts created by and © the-minuscule-task Joseph Lithius and related characters and concepts created by and © Jo Li

[ ← Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter → ]

    The dragon girl was standing in the main area, patiently waiting for me.  It was odd seeing her dressed, but I really liked what she wore: a simple, Japanese-style kimono gown, colored like – and covered in etchings of – cherry blossoms!  I'd later find out she had more casual clothing like a hoodie and slacks but never mind.     Continuing, she wore her long hair in a low bun, held in place by chopsticks, and there was a flower-shaped barrette on the right side of her hair.  I think it was a barrette, anyway – it seemed to be holding her bangs away from her face.  It was cute, but she was beautiful.

    "Ah!"     She spotted me and waved.     "Kitsune-san!" she called, drawing attention to herself.  "Kite, kite!"     I felt a little embarrassed as I walked over.  People were looking at us.  Guess she didn't seem to mind being a spectacle.  Me, though… I generally liked to keep a low profile.     "Redī?" she asked, sounding chipper.     "R-ready…" I shyly said. "Retsu go!!"

    I continued to blush as she escorted me up to the second floor of the building.  Before long, we encountered a metal door.  She smiled at me, reaching into her tail's plume and retrieving another key.  She opened that door, then she walked in and opened a sliding door beyond that.  I peeked inside where she was standing…  That little "airlock" was, seemingly, a bathroom with a sink and a toilet.  Finally, she stood aside, letting me into the room beyond.     I walked inside, looking at a pretty, traditional Japanese room.  Directly in front of me was a low table with seating cushions on either side.  The cushions had chair backs, too.  I could see a small area near the window at the other end of the room with two regular chairs and another small table.  To the right appeared to be some storage space.  Further ahead on that same wall was a small television and a small air refrigerator.  There wasn't anything of note on the left wall save for the remote for the in-room air conditioning.  Honestly, I don't know what I was expecting when I walked in.  Don't get me wrong, the room was nice enough.  It just… wasn't a bedroom like I'd expected.  It was more like a waiting room.  I guess the cashier lied about lodging and breakfast, too…  Even so, it was a nice enough room, I suppose.

    I heard the sliding door click behind me.  When I turned around, I noticed that the dragon girl was blushing and smiling at me.  Her eyes were innocent, again, but there was a definite excitement to them.  She clearly liked the idea of having me in her room.     I pulled out my cell phone, saying something into it.  She cocked her head when the phone asked her "What are you up to?" or "What's going on?" in Japanese.     "Nani?" was the answer I got back.  So, I tried again.     "What are we going to do in this room?" my phone interpreted for me.     The girl blushed, her tail wagging a little.  She then gestured to the little table.  As I sat down on one side, she walked over and reached down to a little plate of things that I'd somehow not noticed.  It looked like… a small teapot, two serving cups, and maybe some kind of small cylinder?  I curiously watched as she took the black cylinder into her hands and opened it.  She used her other hand and opened the teapot, pouring some leaves from the cylinder in, then she picked the pot up and headed to the bathroom.  Not long after, she returned.

    "Tī," she said in Engrish.  "Mattete kudasai."     I more or less understood what she was saying.  She wanted me to wait for the tea to… steep?  Is that the right word?  I figured it wouldn't be long before my sensitive nose picked up on the scent of hot tea leaves in any case.  I didn't like tea… but I liked the idea of spending more time with a very lovely lady.  And so, I smiled.

    "'Riku'."     "Sorry?"     As we waited for the water to become tea, the lady got my attention, again.     "'Riku'," she repeated, pointing at herself.  "Riku…?  Etooo…?"     When she gestured my way, I smiled and wagged my tail.     "Josefu," I answered, pronouncing my name in a Japanese dialect.     Riku giggled and nodded.  "Yozefu-san…"  Something about the way she pronounced my name made me blush.  There was a sweetness to it that I can't explain…     After a moment of reflection, Riku reached into her tail plume and retrieved something.  It was a cell phone not unlike my own.     "Hello, Joseph!" the phone said as it translated her words.  She had spoken energetically, but the phone had spoken plainly.  Still, I got the subtext.     I smiled, blushing as I spoke into my phone.  "Hello, Riku!" it said back in Japanese.     She blushed, herself, starting to giggle.  "I like you…"     I blushed more and smiled.  "I-I like you, too!"     She was having a hard time staying calm.  I could practically see hearts bubbling off her head as she blushed hard and smiled brightly.

    "Hey…  I… wanted to apologize for before."     She perked, looking confused.  "What do you mean?" her phone translated for me.     "When I walked into the spring, I wasn't expecting to see you…"     She cocked her head, confused.     "It's a public hot spring," her phone said for her as she smiled.     "No, I mean I didn't mean to walk in on you during a… p-private moment."     When my phone relayed my message – without hesitation or stuttering, of course – she cocked her head the other way.     "It's a public hot spring," she repeated through her phone.  "I don't understand."     I typed something on my phone… then slid it over.  It had translated my silent word without saying it.  When she read the characters for "jii" and "kōi"… Riku's face turned bright red.  She didn't say anything… but she was typing something.  A lot of something.  I bit my lip a little, feeling incredibly tense.  What was she writing…?  A novel?

    After about a minute, she slid her phone over, still blushing like crazy.  I picked up the phone and began reading… only to keep blushing.  She had described how much she liked standing in that warm water, completely bare.  She went on to say how good the warm steam felt on her scales.  Actually, the word she used was "caressed" or "stroked" – something more sensual, b-but with the same basic meaning.  I politely handed the phone back, tilting my head as, almost immediately, she started typing something else.  When she handed it back over, my ears fell and I blushed even more.  W… wow.  Okay.  That was… a lot.

    I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate me sharing this… but for the sake of storytelling, I'll share.  In her second message, she went into detail… great detail… about how wonderful it felt to do what she was doing in places like that.  She specifically clarified that she was not an exhibitionist.  She just really enjoyed herself at the hot springs!  Apparently, this was something she did regularly…

    I looked up, my face so red that even my fur couldn't hide it.  I'd bitten my lip as I read the final translated sentence: she wasn't an exhibitionist… but she did get a little excited when I'd caught her…  Her face was red through her scales, too.  Guess that innocent lizard lady wasn't so innocent, after all.  Things were tense, again, as she then gingerly drew her phone back over…     "E-e-etooo…" she stammered, "A-anata wa watashi ga warui hitoda to wa omoi…?"     She hadn't said that to her translation app so I had no idea what she'd said.  However… I had a feeling she was asking me if I was judging her.     "Everyone is different," I said, forgetting my phone existed.  "Sh… shouganai…"     She covered her mouth, continuing to blush.  Tears were starting to show in her eyes…     "W-wait.  No," I said, "that came out wrong."     She huffed and whimpered a little.  Did she think I hated her, now?  She was definitely going to cry…     "Riku, I…"     I paused.  Words weren't gonna cut it.  I got up and scrambled over to her.  When I wrapped my arms around her shoulders from behind… she immediately relaxed and leaned into me as best as she could.  There was a chair-back thing in our way, after all.     "Yozefu-san…"     She softly purred my name, calmly breathing.     "Riku…"     I quietly purred hers, just holding the sensitive girl close.     "Kissu me?"     "Gladly…"     I gently turned her head toward mine, then I nuzzled her nose before softly kissing her on the lips.  When she grabbed my head, I had to lean on her to keep from falling over.  I guess she'd really wanted that kiss.

    I blushed a little as she started to stand.  My heart was thumping as the girl towered over me, arching her neck and continuing to hold my head… and the kiss.  She wasn't purring anymore, but she was humming softly… sweetly…  I stepped forward, getting closer.  She reciprocated, letting her arms find their way around my shoulders as mine found her waist.  We kissed for a little while longer… then we paused to breathe.     "Yozefu-san…"     She kissed my forehead and giggled.     "Sankku yū…"     I couldn't stop purring as she held me.  Her body was warmer than before and I could hear her heart softly beating as she sweetly purred back…  I didn't know what was going on, exactly… and I didn't care.  I just… wanted to stay like that.  With her.  Forever…  Eventually, though, we let ourselves part and returned to the table.

    Things became tense, again, as she served us some tea.  We couldn't stop glancing at each other… couldn't stop blushing.  Something was happening and neither of us seemed to want to bring it up.  I could see such fondness in her curious eyes… and I'm sure she'd noticed the warm way I kept watching her.  Luckily, the instant I tried to take a sip of that tea…     "Ehn…"     My face instinctively scrunched.     "Dō shita no…?" she quietly asked, the tension breaking instantly.     "I don't like tea…" I said, softly laughing.     "Mm…"     She shook her head before tapping my cell phone.  I repeated myself, letting my translator app explain.     "Ah…!"     And she immediately bowed.

    "G-g-gomen'nasai…!" she cried as she scrambled back to her feet.  "Omowanakatta!  Jūsu wa ikagadesu ka…?  M-matawa sōda?"     I actually got "juice" and "soda" out of that.  However…     "Eeeeeh…?!"     Instead of answering her… I took the cup of tea and pressed it back against my lips, politely sipping.     "You made this tea for us to drink," my phone translated for me.  "It would be really rude if I didn't try!"     "Ch-ch-ch-chottomatte…!" she said, still standing by the miniature fridge.  "H-h-honkidesu ka?!"     I took a rather wild guess as to what she was saying, and I told her… "Honkidesu…"     She stared at me like I'd gone mad.  Did I say something stupid…?     "W-wait…"     My ears fell back.  Her hands were back over her snout and she was starting to cry again.

    "Did I do something wrong…?" I asked through my phone, genuinely confused.     She shook her head, bursting out with a single laugh.  She sat back down, then, and offered me a warm, beautiful smile.     "Suītto boy…" she said, trying to stay relatively calm.  "Sankku yū…"     "Riku…  You're acting like no one's ever had tea with you before."     She perked, listening to my phone translate for me.  When it finished, she softly smiled and took her phone into her hand.     "You don't like tea," her phone said for her, "but you're still willing to drink with me.  You are kind and sweet…"     "You're the one who's kind and sweet!" I answered with a smile.  "You made tea for a person you just met!"     "I like you very much…" she shyly told me.  Her phone didn't pick up on the way she said it, of course… but I could tell from how she said "Watashi wa anata ga totemo sukidesu…"     "And I like you!"     "Aaaaah!  Sugoi…!"  She beamed as she told me, "Anata ga subarashīdesu…"     Her phone hadn't caught that… but I did.  "You, too…" I whispered back.

    We continued to idly converse through our phones as we sipped the tea she'd prepared.  I'm not sure what kind it was…  It was weedy, though… grassy.  I tried not to make too many faces as we emptied the pot, but she noticed… and she giggled.  Well, at least she was amused…

    It was completely dark outside by the time we'd emptied the teapot.  I stretched and sighed, offering another soft smile to my companion.  She blushed and smiled back.     "I wish there was a bed in here," I idly whispered, "so I could cuddle you like crazy…"     I kept smiling… until I heard something.     "Koko ni beddo ga areba īnoni, anata o muchū ni dakishime rarerunoni."     My eyes widened and my smile became stiff.  I couldn't stop staring at the blushing lizard woman sitting across from me.  Apparently… my phone had heard me speak… and felt obligated to translate it for me.  Which meant… she understood every last word of what I just said.     "Ch-ch-chottomatte…!" I cried in Japanese, "I didn't mean–"     "Uesu."     I stared in astonishment.  "Wh… what?  Nani?"     "Retsu dū itto!" she exclaimed with a big, bright smile.  "Hōruddo me… kissu me… nevā retto mī go…!"     "I… w… wha–"     "Jāsutto kiddingu!!"     The girl in the kimono furiously giggled, largely amused by her own joke.  When I started to smile in return, though…     "But seriously, I want it much."     She let her phone translate her words… and blushed, shyly looking away.  I was pretty sure that was a mistranslation.  But… at the same time… well…

    We anxiously moved the low table and cushion chairs from the middle of the room.  A second later, we sat on the straw mat, sharing soft, nervous smiles.  Things seemed so much easier when we were naked, somehow…  Eventually, we laid next to each other, face-to-face, and we drew inward.  It was only after cuddling up that we started to relax again…

    "Kawaii…"     "Mm…?"     I smiled, leaning back to look at her.  "Kawaii ryuusei…" I whispered.     For those keeping track, I accidentally called her a shooting star instead of a dragon.  Yeah, oopsie.  Even so, she blushed hard and giggled… then she kissed me.  Just like that.  So… I kissed her back.  And once again… we found ourselves sharing a long, meaningful kiss as we lay there in her room on the straw mat.     "Sekkuretto…"     "Hm?"     She nuzzled my cheek as I paid attention.  "Sekkuretto…" she whispered again.     I smiled, nuzzling back with a purr…  "Yes?"     Her face warmed until it was red.  "A… anata…"     I started to blush a little.  She seemed so tense…  I softly stroked her cheek and she calmed a little.  Then, she whispered… softly… sweetly…     "A-anata ga sugoku suki…"

    I didn't know how to respond… mostly because I wasn't sure what she said.  I knew that "suki" could mean "love"… but it could also mean "like".  And given her body language and general composure throughout the night… I was pretty certain she meant the second one.  I softly bumped noses with her and warmly looked into her eyes.     "Suki…" I whispered.  "Suki desu…"     She giggled… then she started laughing.  Oh, boy…     "Suki desu ka?" she asked, still softly laughing.  "Suka reru no wa sukidesu ka?"     I was pretty sure I'd said something silly.  She definitely wouldn't have laughed that much, otherwise…     "Translation, please?" I asked, leaning back to grab one of our phones from the displaced table.  "Toransurētto, purīzu?"     I tried to offer her phone… but she just rubbed her nose against mine, smiling.     "Suki…" she purred.  "Suki, suki, suki…"     I wasn't sure why she was repeating that one word over and over again, but…     "S… suki," I whispered back, fondly pressing my nose to hers.  "Suki, suki, suki…?"     "Aaaaah!"  She cried out, beaming.  "Kawaiiiii kitsune-san!"     Without any warning, she pulled me into another rough kiss.  Her claws were running through the fur on my head and she was holding me pretty tightly…  I guess I'd said the right thing.  Or… the wrong thing in the right way?

    "Suki…"     After our kiss, she purred into my cheek, resting her head under mine.  I softly breathed as I ran my dull claws through her hair.  I liked holding her.  She was so soft… plus, our height difference didn't matter since we were lying at eye level, anyway.     "Suki desu ka?" she quietly asked, looking at me with warm eyes.     "Suki desu…" I answered with a smile.     "Kawaii…"  She put her head back down, closing those pretty eyes of hers.  "Sugoi…"

    As we lay there holding one another in that hot spring guest room, I started to wonder… was that all Riku wanted?  Someone to hold?  Someone to hug?  Someone to kiss and caress?  Was she just a lonely girl looking for love…  Or… was I a special case?  Maybe she felt obligated because I caught her… w-with her hand in the cookie– no, that's terrible…!  You know what I mean!  Still… was it an obligation thing?  Was she satisfied with cuddling?  Or had she genuinely wanted to give herself to me?  Maybe it was something in between?  Maybe… maybe it really was love…

    As I lay there wondering, I slowly started to nod off.  Riku was purring again, and it was extremely relaxing.  I didn't want to… but regardless of what I wanted, I wound up falling asleep right there on the straw mat, held by a big, adorable lizard lady who seemed pretty fond of me.

    I couldn't have asked for a better end to my night…

[keratoconusgroup]

Wearing RGPs for the first time, should this be happening?

​ Did anyone get these when they first started RGP's? I know in theory RGP give the best visual acuity, but these get in the way: * I'm noticing blurry halos (maybe due to tearing?) and I can physically see my lens lift (and blur) when I blink and about 1.5 seconds before they fall back into place. * It's also kind of itchy feeling and they pop out if I drag eyes to relieve the itch. Even though I use Pataday. * My eyes have always been dry. The rgp vision improves when I do full slow blinks. This doesn't feel natural to my eyes and it's like I have to squeeze them shut. I have small eyes. Isn't RGP's supposed to naturally protecting against dryness? Has anyone also wore toric soft lenses, such as Bioinfinity Toric XR which one was better for you in the end? My cylinder measurement is -1.25 and -3, so they might be too high for Acuvue 1 days. submitted by /u/Conscious_Jeweler196 [link] [comments] https://www.reddit.com/r/Keratoconus/comments/11cxvjf/wearing_rgps_for_the_first_time_should_this_be/?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

[little-blog-of-horrors]

Anarchy chuckled at the reaction and watched him for a good few minutes. Impressed with his aim and taking it in. Or just standing there to annoy him. Either was possible.

"Aw, did I get your chaps in a twist cowboy?" He teased before moving to his own lane. Anarchy was a tactician and a damn good shot. Dual wielding revolvers of his own, but with a skull and cross emblazed on both sides. The man dressed in full leather rig out, with ripped up jeans, and black steel toe biker boots. One thing Tracer seemed to comment on a lot with a blush was how the man never wore shirts under the singed leather jacket. Reason being he shifted forms in combat, and they always ended up getting burned away. He was looking forward to the day he could show off his ability to Cassidy.

He trained in his own section for a while. Cigarette hanging out of his lips as he destroyed 3 targets, with bulls eye shots. Two cylinders worth of them actually. All the while watching Cole in his peripherals.

"Angie said you and me are gonna be going on the crater mission tomorrow. Apparently the other tankers are being pulled for something out in the desert somewhere." He said absently.

Closed - Anarchy in Overwatch.

Anarchy had joined Overwatch,... with a bit of protest. But being a vigilante wasn't going to be 'tolerate' anymore according to the officials. They wanted a hero that was more controlled. More PR friendly. And so here he was.

The former Latino male didn't exactly fit in with the rest of the heroes. He got alone well with the tanks though. He tended to flirt with May a lot, because watching her blush was just too entertaining. But he was more interested in the gunslinger. He seemed much more,... guarded? Like he had secrets. And Anarchy was drawn to that part of him.

He came up behind Cassidy at the range. His dual pistols resting in their holsters strapped to his thighs. Hands rested on their hilts and drawing his belt lower on his waist. The sounds of the chains attacked to each pistol and his belt clattering as he walked.

"Morning doll. Training this early?" He purred VERY close to the gun slinger's ear.

@babe-cassidy

[peachsayshi]

I wish you would write a fic where the reader is a witch trying to cure her cursed boyfriend (Gojo was turned into a cat) and the local apothecary owner (Geto) has been helping meanwhile sparks are flying between them (ends in a poly relationship <3)

I??? Love???? This?????

Can we just...kind of roll with this idea for a second? (minors & ageless blogs)

A witch still learning to adjust to her powers sought out help from her warlock lover, but one unfortunate incident turned him into a beautiful cat. 

His pale skin now coated white fur, blue orbs staring doe eyed at you like jewels as he purrs and nuzzles closer into your arms.

You were distraught. There was absolutely nothing you could do to save him. Try as you might, you cast spell after spell but Gojo merely arches his back and nips at the carpet of your quaint home.

You travel through every neighboring village, seeking out anybody who can reverse this curse on your lover. Days and nights pass, with  your sweet pet in your arms, until one day you find yourself standing in front of the most beautiful apothecary you have ever laid your eyes on.

The door was practically hidden by the overgrown vines, and you can barely make out the name plastered on the front but once you step foot indoors your breath is taken away by the beautiful sight. A long wooden varnished counter separated you from the colorful viles that were shelved from floor to ceiling.

Gojo leaps from your hands, and parades around the shop as they curl and rub their body against the panels of the counter, all the while you were busy taking in the soothing scent of rosemary and eucalyptus. There was a chandelier above you, lit up with candles that had wax drippings pouring down the white cylinders, and on the walls were bouquets of dried flowers that hung in decorative fashion.

The real surprise was when the owner of the shop stepped from behind the curtain, tall and broad, with long black hair cascading down his back. He wore a simple white top, tucked into a pair of fitted black jeans and dark boots. His long slender fingers were adorned with earrings, each one had an intricately placed jewel on it.

So flustered by his beauty, you stammered as you bashfully admitted to what happened. Suguru gave you a gentle smile before reassuring in a calm voice, "let's see what I can do to help"

Transforming an animal back to a human proved to be difficult, as there was only one potion that could work. Suguru confessed that it would take months to complete. Instead of journeying back home, you agreed to say and help out with his shop. Each day passed and the two of you grew to form an unlikely friendship, and even Gojo found himself living comfortably in this new state.

But one night changed everything, and suddenly the tension between you and Suguru unraveled on his bed sheets. You panted softly as his lips traveled all over your body, his low voice murmuring how beautiful you looked. You trembled against his touch, until your pleasured cries reverberated off his walls. 

You were torn between two men, and when the day came to return your lover back to his original form you were both elated and heartbroken. 

What you weren’t expecting was Satoru’s small gasp when he gazed upon Suguru. The two of them stood there in silence, a tint of pink matching both their cheeks and you were left confused. They spoke but Satoru’s voice shook and Suguru could barely maintain eye contact. 

When you asked Satoru about it as you packed up to leave, he revealed that he and Suguru were childhood best friends, who eventually grew to love each other. 

“But that’s in the past...” 

You didn’t know what prompted you to bite your lip, to reach for his hand before contemplating that he didn’t have to walk away so quickly. You understood the reasons behind his love, expressing your new found feelings and watching something light up in Satoru’s eyes. 

You didn’t leave as planned, and instead woke up the next morning with Suguru breathing softly against your neck and Satoru holding you closely by your waist. 

I wish you would write a fic where...Send me an anymous (or not) summary of the fic you wish I would write. (maybe I will write a tidbit) 

[grim-faux]

3 _ 21 _ Half the World

First - An Echo Rebounds Through the Silent City

 The water from the faucet was always icy, but sitting under it a bit made it feel normal. Somehow he managed to get the trickle right, he didn’t like when it felt too much like rain or rushing water from a gutter. This was perfect for soaking mud and whatever else congealed to his coat and pants; all the gunk built up and made his clothing stiff, and weighed him down. It always felt good to scrape off the layers and start fresh.

  He poked his head out of the sink again, ever vigilant and searching beyond the steady gurgle of the water. The room was larger than his preference, but the kitchen was in good condition. He thought about where he would flee to if something appeared, and also eyed the cabinets on the other wall. Soon, he would be searching through those. There might be something good, and plenty of rations that he could browse through and not risk the ones that could make him ill.

  But first, chip off the grunge.

  And a fresh bandage!

  Piles of cloth huddled across the counter, partially buried with plaster and tile clumps from the small section of wall beneath the upper cupboards. Mono crouched beside a cylinder sort of canister and peeled his soggy coat off. He was particularly careful of the arm and the bandage, in case something stuck. It had been a while since he last checked the wound, and for the ache it gave him, he thought it was best to ignore it. He had taken extra care to give it a solid soaking before attempting any foolishness.

  During the ripping of cloth and some excessive noise making, Mono turned his head to the room and paused for a listen. The walls kept hushed, while a window in the next room moaned with rain and the dramatic gale. Nothing else picked at his attention, prompting him to return and work with the pile of pieces he was forming. He was not… great with ripping cloth. It was heavy and durable, his stripes always became triangle shreds. It’d work and hold with a good tuck, and a tug there. The dry was always a nice change too.

  A crackle and squeal ignited, along with the radiance of the room draining out briefly. He glanced up as the illumination restored, and the tall thin man stood near center of the room. The figure gave him a short glimpse before shifting over.

  “W̸̫͒h̵̯̐ȃ̷̼ṫ̸͓ ̵̘͝A̴͍͒r̷̭̈é̶̮ ̸͉̈́W̴͉̒e̸̬̋ ̵̢̉D̵̢̈o̷͍̚i̴̦͝ń̵ͅğ̶̭ ̸̮̀H̶̺͂ê̷̜ṟ̸̌e̵͈͊?̷͇̑”

  Mono raised his mostly bandaged arm. The Thin Man pinched his wrist and bent low, turning his arm this way or that, while kneading at the dry fabric. Mono adjusted his legs and looped his free arm under his knee, pulling one leg close to his chest.

  “Does this hurt?”

  Mono shook his head. Once more, he gave the room another check. He tilted his head back and watched the rim of the Thin Man’s hat. It was so close that Mono could reach up and grab it.

  “What A̵̝̋r̵̥̾ě̵͜ ̵̪͒ you D̵̠̓ó̸̲i̵̪̊ń̶͇g̶̾͜?̸͎̆”

  He snapped his hand down and brought his focus back to the Thin Man, and those so same eyes. That was his favorite same about the Thin Man. While they had same powers, and could go through television, and wore hats… the eye same was not ambiguous. He could look at the Thin Man and the Thin Man looked right back, with those eyes. It also made him queasy and frightened – the eyes that were same. It was wonderful to have the same, but it could be unsettling. Only one time could Mono ever really recall seeing his own eyes in a mirror, but knowing they were same as the man in the hat meant... something important. It was sort of like looking at himself, even if their faces were so different. Looking at the Thin Man made him remember how....

  “Do dry off proper." The Thin Man released his arm and straightened, so much and tol. He patted Mono on his head. "And eat something. That is your job right now." In a dazzle of light and shadows, the silhouette vanished.

  The whole ‘dry off’ thing didn’t make sense to Mono. He finished adjusting and doublechecking over his bandage, before slipping into his coat. Good and snug. He also went back to the sink side and collected his treasures – his hats, a good picture, and that weird speek of the face. Why he kept it, who knows? It fascinated him.

  Before going at the cabinets, he made certain to get the preliminary scout of the rooms done. Check where the Thin Man was (if he was around), and get some ideas about hide and flee places. The rooms overall held up and had some furniture, and he found a small hole between two rooms that gave him a route. The floor was creaky, but he had a couple windows to take stock of and explore later – if they went anywhere. Nothing lurked in the deep corners, he could navigate the dim spaces and get around without tripping. An extra bathroom connected two rooms, and he could go between them and later check if the faucet and sink worked. 

  The cabinets in the kitchen held some dingy boxes that he took immediate interest in. He huddled in a cabinet chewing up packaging and digging out the clumps of food. The flavor was bland, but that was best. He dragged a wad of the food stuff in his arms and wandered more around the halls, giving the spaces a better scrutiny. Some of the walls had corroded pictures with faded speek, or only a frame hanging by a wire. Some rooms lay cluttered with bags, other spaces carried a blinding radiance, one section of the hall broke into a Y shape. Exploring was good when nothing lunged out with a shriek. And no other kids.

  Most of the windows had boards nailed tight, or the glass was webbed and distorted. He slipped into one room and found the Thin Man, bowed with his back facing him.

  “Broke,” he hissed. “S’danger of room.” Mono dumped the wrapper and crumbs on the ground and rushed over to the tall man and his hat. “Not go.” He orbited the feet planted to the floor and stared up, trying to see the tallest creature in all the city. The edge of the sill was in the way.

  He scurried away and searched the dingy fringes of the rooms, poking at lumps and whatever had some shape. A cylinder container could be moved off a heap of clothing, and he could push and scoot the ends until it rolled the correct way to the sill side. It was harder flipping the thing onto its end, but after he managed to get it situated, he was at last dangling from the corner of the sill.

  The rain hit the glass and made the dulled prattle hum, mingling with that dusty rattle the Thin Man had. The man in the hat has a smoke to his lip and breathed a thick plume, while he watched through the window and its blotched surface.

  Mono scooted to one elbow braced to the sill and leaned on his arm. Company. And quiet. He watched the blurred squiggles run down the glass, fading of crashing into their friends. The city beyond didn’t exist, but he could make out the lines through the haze of rainfall. Sometimes tiny light glittered, looking something like… stars. Did he ever see those blinking lights before? He could think about the embers swirling from the grate of the furnace, and the hacking bellows from behind the anchored door.

  The door held fast. They were safe. For a while, they were warm.

  Sometimes his eyes slid shut, but only for a splint moment before he snapped back. He tucked his knees up under his coat and tried to use the Thin Man’s arm to keep his head raised. The rain streaked into shapes on the marred glass, he tried to pay attention to the curves and lines. None of that made anything, but it did remind him of the mark speek. Could the Thin Man read the marks, like the ones frozen in the many books? So much mystery. It was not unlike a television screen, except it didn’t make his head hurt or his nose bleed. The streaks were pretty. This sound and the Thin Man always made his head fuzzy, but in a good way. He didn't feel the jittery panic with each odd creak threading through the back of his mind. 

  The Thin Man raised the hand with the smoke stick and took a deep, rustling breath. When he exhaled smoke, it fogged the glass like a gray sheet. Mono watched, as the man in the hat took a finger and drew a face with an upside down mouth. Mono watched, spellbound.

  Speek! He can make speek!

  “Damore?”

  “Hmm.”

  Mono tugged on his jacket sleeve. “Ugh? Y’speek.” He yanked harder. “More?” Unlatching from the arm, Mono scooted to the glass and breathed on the surface. “Speek? S’do. Hmm?” He made a box and a cup with a handle. And a handprint. “Eeh. For show?”

  With a grating sigh, the hand with the smoke stick returned to the window. After refreshing the canvas, the Thin Man marked in something tol – Mono thought it was the man in the hat – but it had crooked arms, and A LOT of arms. A Sinnapede? No. The thing sat on a line, so a tree? The limbs raised high above, knotted and stretching.

  “Mm. See?” Mono gave the glass a puff and fixed his position. He showed the Thin Man the boy in the paper bag. “Am Mono. See him?” He looked at the Thin Man and pointed to his self. “S’Mono here.”

  He returned to the glass, breathing and marking in a shape. “Then chair. And television. When—” He didn’t finish, because fingers looped around his middle and raised him off the sill ledge.

  “Go F̴͈̄i̷̯̔ñ̴͕ḏ̴̈́ ̴̻͗ some F̴̦̾ö̴̖́ö̶̲́d̵̬̈́.̵̮̆” The hand scooted him along the floor. “T̶̖̚h̷̡̑a̴̘͌t̷̗̽ ̵̬͋Ḭ̵̆s̵̟̆ ̵͖̐I̵̦͋m̴̟͐p̶̯̂ȍ̸̤r̵̺̎t̴̠̎a̵͙̍n̷̹͗t̴̥͝.̸̣͆”

  Mono skittered from the Thin Man, skipping around heaps of whatever in the blotted hue of the room. He glanced back over his shoulder before creeping out.

  The rooms received another search through. Nothing out of place, and very few bugs or whatever to entertain him. He broke a leg off a small chair and dragged that around with him, and practiced swinging the weapon across fast crawling critters. He threw the chair leg, and went to lift it as before, and repeated this throw and fetch several times.

  It was important to keep sharp with his reflexes and have a feel for the length of his weapon, to the whatever 'imaginary' danger might be hounding him, and how much it took to heft and cleave. When he was in the Hospital, the scuttling hands gave him a few close calls. One time when after he missed a swing, the hand cracked its fingernails on the tile floor and made a sporadic lunge. It missed his body, but grazed his knee – that force could have knocked him down, and then the hand would have him at it’s mercy. It gave him a start and the force made him stumble, but he managed to stay upright and heft the bar high once more.

  Another close call happened with one hand that got tangled in the tail of his coat. The stupid hand went ballistic with thrashing and clawing, and Mono panicked in a jumbled process of unraveling from his coat, along with keeping as far from the nasty creature as he could. He was afraid it would crawl up his spine and snare the back of his head. Then break his neck!

  If She wasn’t there! Somewhere in all the thrashing, She manage to come out of nowhere and kicked the hand across the room. Of course, the stupid hand came scrambling back – a little beaten and one digit flopping worthlessly on the ground – by then Mono had the pipe back in his palms, and S̷̛͚M̵̱̊Á̵̝S̸̻̊H̴̫͠Ë̴͉D̷͕͆ the hand again and again and Ä̸̘Ĝ̷̦Ḁ̷̀I̸͚̕N̵̤̆ ̸̲̾Ǎ̸̫N̸̡͠D̸̎ͅ ̴̙̏Ȧ̵̱Ǧ̴͚A̵̪̓I̴̲͊N̷̪̕.̸̬͗.̵̜͝... it was a pulpy, stringy mess of sinew and bone by the time She pulled him away. Okay, it was more like dragged him away.

  It was horrific. He barely slept the whole time they were there (even before he crossed the Patients). It felt like something was always crawling up his arms, or fingers kept tugging at his coat. Him and Her got into snarly fights so many times from trying to dip into half sleeps, but any shift or snag on their coats sent them into mindless ballistics. The Hospital made them go more nutty. In the dark and the smells, and the deafening silence that filled their ears to the brim with a suffocating cotton where their breathing became thunderous. He hated the Hospital. The place was full of terrible sensations and smells.

  The refrigerator had a latch he could jump and reach. The inside was chilled, but maybe that was his clothing being damp through. Inside, some of the low shelves had packages that looked clean. No black blotches or fuzzy, the coloring was fine. He pulled out a wad of vegetable stuff and chewed through that. He found a bundle of meat, but it was more a jerky from sitting and forgotten. Still edible. He wasn’t that hungry, but eating at small increments helped get him from the famished feeling. He did okay without ducking all his food stuff in water, so solids was a big treat.

  In the door shelf he found eggs. He pulled one out and set it on the floor, to chase around and around. Like a ball, only don’t break it.

  He did break it. But managed to save the yolk stuff. Still not a fan. Egg was slimy and goopy, it put a funny taste in his mouth. He shouldn't crinkle his nose at them, though.

  The Thin Man was not in the room with the window. Mono adjusted the egg in his arms and relinquished to the idea of rechecking the rooms, and try finding that bristle static. He preferred rolling the egg, but he didn’t want to risk another accident of it hitting a snag in the floor panels or smacking the wall.

  After getting lost a few times, he got himself turned back right and stumbled upon the Thin Man in a secluded room, a ways in the back of the dwelling. The tall man found a recliner with a short table, where he propped his legs. The hat was down and the Thin Man wasn’t smoking anymore.

  Mono went over to the chair and heaved the egg up onto the seat, beside the Thin Man. He winced when the man in the hat jolted, the faraway gaze took in the surroundings and the room.

  “Mm. Egg.” He climbed onto the seat beside the Thin Man and hefted the egg up. “For food.” The Thin Man took the egg, but to his irritation, he moved it to the floor.

  “No.”

  Mono wasted no time to pounce the egg before it rolled too far away. “Hey.” The next time he lifted the food, he lost his balance and crashed into the Thin Man’s leg.

  “A̵̩͐m̵̛͓ ̷͔̿Ĩ̶͉ ̷̳̑N̶̲̐o̶̮͐t̵̹͒ ̵̗̈́Ă̷͔l̴̠͝l̷̲̐o̷̦̍w̴̖̓ẽ̵͇d̸͚̈́ ̶̤͘Ä̷̹ ̶͍̓M̴͉̿o̸̻͝m̸̻̀e̶̘͠ǹ̵̼ț̵̅?̸̟͠ ̵͙̆A̸̕ͅ ̴͙͝R̵̪̈e̵̦͘p̷͖͂ŗ̵͝i̴̡͐ė̸̡v̵̖̆ẽ̸̝?̴̜̾ ̴̪̌N̷̲̓ő̴̝t̷͖͑h̸͓̓ḭ̴̒n̵̞̾g̷͇̉?̷̼̍”

  “Shud eat.” At least he saved the egg from cracking. But carrying it and tossing it was wearing on his strength, he was already winded from exerting himself. “Good.” He was lying. Eggs were not good. They were food. Maybe the Thin Man would eat them, and Mono wouldn’t have to glare at them. “Yum.”

  He barely got the egg up and over the seat edge. It would be hard to catch it, and he would probably fall along to save it from cracking. Mono climbed up and heaved his offering over to the tall thin man. A hand stole the egg from his arms and he tumbled sideways, barely raising his head to spot the flash of a projectile glint across the room.

  Where go? He climbed off the cushion and wandered around the room, very certain the egg was—

  He looked over at the base of a wall, where a soggy eggshell crashed. Looking up then, the greasy goo trails oozed into the plaster; a few bits of shell clung fast. “S’tol.” The eggshell was good too, in a pinch. It was crunchy, and he kind of preferred it to the goo stuff inside.

  The Thin Man looked at him when he returned. “T’food. Mmm?”

  “D̶͙̓o̴͔͐e̵̘̓s̵̫͛  ̶͖̀'̵̻͛"I̸̞͊ ̶̬̍A̵̲̋ḿ̸̧ ̴̧͘N̴̛̞o̷̗̓T̴͠ͅ ̶̨̃Ḯ̶͍n̵͚̎ ̷̹͆T̸͙́h̴̝̾Ẹ̷̎ ̴̟͘M̴̝͋o̸̓ͅo̸̭̓D̴̩̿"'̸̼͂ ̴̗̓ M̸̦͠e̴̼͋a̷̭̎n̶̲̊ ̵͚̉A̶͚͘n̸̟̿y̵͙̚t̸̙̎h̶̩̋ì̵͔n̸̰̓g̴̟͒ ̶̧͋T̶̫͌o̸̚ͅ ̶͕̋Y̸͖͌ő̶̞u̴̳͠?̸̧̚”

  Mono tugged on his pant leg and held up the eggshell. “S’better. Mm. Try?” He tossed the shell onto the chair seat and scrambled up. The Thin Man gave a noise and slouched, long-long arms trailing over either side of the chair. “Good. Best.” He tried eating more of the shell, since the Thin Man didn’t understand or flat out didn't believe him. Usually he saved shells for when nothing else was around, and then drywall. He didn’t think the Thin Man would eat wood or drywall.

  One time, he did eat one of the Teachers chalk sticks. It was okay….

  The Thin Man is always grumpy and sad. He never eat. Mono is certain it would help. It always put Her in a good mood. “Give mmm.” The Thin Man didn’t budge when he pressed the eggshell against his jacket. “Hey?”

  Was he okay? The man in the hat let his head hang off his neck. It didn’t look right. And he wasn’t moving. The static was very bristly and grating at his ears, but the Thin Man didn’t do anything. He looked so broken and stopped responding to everything. Like a still child. He wasn’t okay. This was hurt. Did something happen, and the Thin Man hid it? He might disappear!

  What does he do? How fix? Broken? Broken! NoNoNo!

  Mono tugged back on his suit lapel, but that did nothing! “Hey. Hoi.” He leapt off the arm chair and went to one of the hands dangling beside the floor. Wrapping his arms around the forearm, he kicked his heels into the chipped floor and tried hauling the arm with him. “You. Mmm!” When they didn’t produce any reaction, he bit the arm.

  Nothing worked. He tried chewing on the fingers and flexing them and prying, and all manner of movement and heaving, or pushing. Though stringy like a thread, the arm was too much and heavy to shift around.

  He raced to the Thin Man’s legs and tugged on his shoe, and shoved at his leg. “You. Hunh. Hurt. Hoi.” Out of desperation, he tried lifting the leg… nope. He couldn't lift that, not by a hair.

  Next Mono climbed up the arm of the chair and perched close to the Thin Man’s sagging head. He grabbed at the collar of the suit and heaved, but the Thin Man was as cold and stiff as a… a….

  “Don’t.” He tilted his head, and tried once more to get a response. “You don’t.” In a new attempt, he scooted back a ways and coiled up. With a snarl, he leapt and shoved at the Thin Man’s chest. The results didn’t bode well, and he nearly fell off the chair's arm.

  “W̵̜͛h̶̪̉y̴͕̓ ̵̗͋M̵̪̀u̷̜̎ś̶̜ť̷͜ ̴͔̓Y̸͈͝ó̶̪u̴͕͘ ̶͚͂Ṯ̷̕o̶̗̎r̴͑͜m̴̟͊e̶̢̓ṋ̶͝t̶͓̉ ̸̡̐Ḿ̵̠e̴̘̒?̴͍͠”

  Mono squeaked and lost his grip, and fell straight to the floor. He wouldn’t sit up or move, or anything. Not right away. The Thin Man was all right but teasing him. For sure, he thought the Thin Man stopped and wouldn’t wake up. He would be alone and it was all Mono's fault.

  With a snarl he lunged at the hand and bit the fingers. As hard as he could. That didn’t bother the Thin Man. Of course it didn’t, but Mono would get him to pay attention.

  The tall thin man did give a rustling sigh. That made Mono more angry.

  “Less’ehn,” he snapped. “You.” In a wild charge he rushed to the front of the chair and tackled the Thin Man’s leg, or shoe. He tried to bite through the stiff fabric, but he kicked Mono off and scooted him away with his heel. Nothing was going to deter Mono, and hissing, he climbed onto the chair.

  Once he balanced himself on the seat between the chair arm and the Thin Man’s leg, the man in the hat grimaced at him.

  “C̵̺̆ḧ̶̪́ḯ̷͈l̷̬̏d̴̠͝—”

  Screeching, Mono launched at the Thin Man and grabbed the lapel of his suit front. Before he could grab the man in the hat, a searing pop signaled his dispersion. Mono crashed into the back of the chair and rolled to his side. He orientated himself with a sputter, managing to open his eyes and glance up right as a hand lashed down for him.

  In a flash, Mono tossed himself through the back of the recliner and smacked into the wall. He gave his head a shake and shuffled around the back corner of the chair, only inching out enough beside a heap of clothing so for seeing the man in the hat. Still there. Searching. Unaware.

  A seek game, then! The Thin Man was it.

  “Y̷͚̾ȯ̴̠u̶͈͠ ̷̫̇C̵͈̃ő̴͓m̴̻̀è̷̠ ̵̏ͅỌ̴̄ủ̷̫ẗ̴̺ ̵̬͐H̷̛̥e̵̙͋r̸͔̽é̴̮.̴̧͛”

  As the tall figure stepped around to check the side of the recliner, Mono reversed further into the shadows. He paused for a spell, only to get his wits together and get himself braced.

  In a buzzing-hum, he appeared a ways behind the Thin Man; the figure continued to examine the chair. He figured that the Thin Man had a hard time locating him, if he stayed nearby. This made Mono smile.

  “Hey.”

  The Thin Man snapped around. “C̷̭̏e̵̯̎a̶̦̅s̷͓͌e̴̡͊ ̴̬̚T̶͇̏ò̵̘y̴͉̐i̸͓͛n̵͔̓ĝ̴̯ ̵̧̈́W̸̨̚i̷̘͆t̶͙̒h̴͘͜—”

  Mono skittered behind a pile of rubbish, before the Thin Man took a step. A low chatter of static hummed through the room. He liked this game. The Thin Man could catch him, but not until Mono was ready. He listened for the sharp click of shoes and kept his shape hidden, while weaving through a mass of clothing and ducking under the small table. He watched the narrow legs swivel around, then fade out.

  “T̴̞̋h̶͈͆i̸̪͑s̵̺̾ ̴̖̂Ì̶̧s̸̢̋ ̸̟͌N̵̺̂O̶̦͒T̸̺͒ ̴̺̀F̷̗͝ű̸̡n̶̫̚n̷͎̾y̶͈̏!̴͓͊”

  In a blink Mono darted out directly under the Thin Man’s path and looked up at him. He only let him get close, then vanished. This elicited another snarl from the man in the hat. He liked the different noises. They didn’t have meaning, but Mono liked them whenever he appeared, or disappeared. It gave him a chance to plan and stabilize himself, whenever he let the man in the hat close in. But only by a little….

  “L̵̹̚i̴̦̹͠t̵̞͒͘͜t̶̨͈̔l̶̻̝̈́è̴͍̺ ̵͖͊M̶̲͗̆ŏ̵̤̞n̵̦͒s̵̙͒́ṭ̶͎̔̚è̶̡͓r̵͔̰̅̀!̸̨̱̑͌” “F̶̣͚̈́ö̸͍͠r̵̟͉͑̄ ̸̻͍͛ț̵̢̉̎h̵͉̉é̶͙̐ ̵̙̖̌̈́E̸̡̠͠Y̵̯̓E̷̬̐̇!̶́͘ͅ” “T̶̯̓h̷̞̓̊i̸̙͠s̵̢͒ ̵̬̪̔̊H̷̬̭̉͐a̷̹̬̿r̵̟̋͐a̸̼͆̈́s̸̝̱͆́s̶̤̎m̷̰̑̽ẽ̴͚̖̕n̸̝͘ṱ̶̨̈́̀ ̴̧̖̓̃W̶̛̪̣̾I̷͇̺͛̈Ḻ̶͓̊̕L̸͙͑ͅ ̴͙̖͋̈E̶̩̤̍n̶̥̾͝d̴̥̞͐!̶̡̱̓”

  The Thin Man was swift on following wherever Mono reappeared, forcing Mono to physically leap to avoid a hand and lunge behind the side of the recliner. Before the Thin Man could get to him, Mono made a short teleport to the other side of the chair and slipped out from the sheltered space. He darted out and swiped at the back of the Thin Man’s leg.

  “Ÿ̶͎͔o̷̮͂̕ü̸̞̾ ̵̨̑w̶͍͙͐i̸̹̓̋l̵̗̟͝l̵̛͉̙͗ ̷̫̩̈́͑n̵͇̕͝ò̷̝͝t̴̳͉̾ ̵͙̔̅l̴̻̻̅̈́i̴̗͎͆k̷͈͇̽́e̵̛̝͎ ̵̢͑̿í̶̼ẗ̵͕́ ̶̫̩̃w̵͙̞̌̒h̴̢̒͝e̸͍͈͆n̶͕̥̑ ̴̻̘̽I̷̲̿̑ ̸̙̕g̴̪̃e̸͓͒ṫ̶̠͙ ̸̦͋͝m̵̜̮̆y̴̫͊̓ ̶͈̉͝h̷̪̚ą̷̅n̸̬̦̓d̸͇̤̊̂s̵̞̊ ̷̰̂ó̸̻̞n̴̛̤̾ ̶͎̎͘y̴̺̋o̴̜͝u̷͎͆͝!̸̲̫̅”

  Mono stuck his tongue out as he scurried away. He was about to duck behind another mass of clothing, when the dull radiance blotted out and he was thrown to the floor. The impact and dark stunned him briefly, but the tingling sizzled through his shoulders.

  Cautious and alert, he tried rolling over. Something was on him, it was heavy and he couldn’t lift it very well. He was in a space with walls curving around him. The texture felt familiar, like one of his hats. But his hand fit in one of his hats. All of Mono fit in this space, even when he didn’t curl up. Does the Thin Man take off his hat?

  The wide slate beneath Mono creaked and all at once light blazed down on him, while a whoosh of air swept the hat away. Or the Thin Man snatched the hat up and set it back onto his tall shadow. Mono tried to see what the man in the hat looked like, if not hat, but he was already grabbed off the floor.

  “I̸͖͠ ̸̗͇̀̕Ç̸̤̀̈á̷̪͝n̸̜̩̈́͝ ̸̠̓D̶̠͕͘ọ̵̑͠ ̷͈̓Ẇ̴̯͑i̶̭̳͛t̷̲̝̅ḧ̴̛͎̤o̷̙̒͋u̴͇͠t̷̥̚ ̴̟̝̀T̴̼̱́͘h̷̯͛̓ā̸͔͚̆t̴̩̲͑ ̸͇͗̓N̴̠̻͋o̴̤͙͛̈n̷̰͓͂s̵̝̞̽̐ẹ̸͒ň̸̢̕ṣ̵̎ͅẻ̶̡̲͛.̵̘͔͝”

  Mono huddled down as much as he could in the grip coiled about his ribs. He tried petting the Thin Man’s wrist and watched him intently, searching for reflection or change in the hard lines of the scowl. The Thin Man must not like eggs either.

  “Have you.” The Thin Man didn’t look at him as he surged through the hall. “And make safe. N'have game. Was to—” The Thin Man shoved him into an open drawer and slammed it shut.

  The silence flooded into everything. Mono fumbled through stiff clothing and dust, until his legs and hands untangled. Outside, all humming and sizzling subsided into groaning howls. It was always the same. The Thin Man leaves. He made sure Mono had a nest, and then leaves. He was bad at making nests though, but that was adults.

  They thought kids dumped a bunch of stuff in a place and that was it. No! Mono took a shirt, a rag, some other stuff that was soft and kept his warmth. He folded the fabric over and pushed, then shoved. It was important not to get tangled up for if the flee, and that could happen if he fought the dream haunts. But this… where he was, it was not nest place.

  It took a bit of working at the drawer, trying to decide how to grip a bar in the underside of the flat surface of the ceiling and pry, heave, and scoot. Several times he exerted himself and needed a pause, and always his heart skipped at every suspicious creak plodding somewhere outside. After so much work, he made a tight crease open in the drawer where he could poke his head and shoulders out. With more wriggling, the rest of him got free and he crashed to the floor below.

  __

  Another scout done. He went to the room with the mostly complete window and climbed onto the sill. It smelled like smoke. The rain was always falling. Outside always looked the same – sometimes it was brighter, sometimes the rain blasted the glass and the patterns became dagger shapes. Even during a span of passive downpour, he could never see the streets below through the boiling mist. When the blaze burned through the window in wicked flashes and the thunder roared, Mono hid further in the rooms far from the window rooms.

  On one of his scouts, he discovered an old plush animal stuffed under a cracked trunk, left in a room. He stole it away from the bones and resumed checking through the rooms, toy in tow. The rooms with the windows whistled and the drumming rain followed his ears, but the halls held the eerie softness. The emptiness was safe, the absence of sound was good. He was busy with everything to make safe.

  He showed the toy all the foods he was organizing in the kitchen, and how to ration them. It was easiest after he curbed his stabbing famish, and he could take smaller bites sometimes, and snooze at other times. Rest was important. The more he moved around and teleported, the more eating he had to make up.

  As well, a package of food always made it to the room with the recliner, in case the Thin Man came for see while Mono hid away. He liked to think the Thin Man visited while Mono was quiet in rest, since the tall thin man thought that was important. When the Thin Man did too much fussing over Mono, he forgot to look after himself. If without Mono, no one looked after the Thin Man. That was his busy, but he couldn’t do that and keep the dwelling safe.

  The toy was wonderful to wrap his arms around and squeeze. It soaked up his warmth and it felt good to hang onto it, especially when he made his nest. He dragged shirts and things into one of the rooms near the window room, and added to it when he had the energy. Aside from a desk and stool, among lumpy bags stuffed with cloth, the room wasn’t interesting. The cover did make Mono feel secure where he put his blanket materials. If something lurked, he would have an area to dive into or have a chance before the threat saw him.

  When he finished another search through the rooms, he took the toy to where the recliner was and told him about the Thin Man. “So tol. Keeps me. Am make safe for come.”

  The toy sat under the small table, while Mono did speek on the wall with a bit of flint. “Them other kids. Not good but has for keep. So everywhere. Then come for Mono.”

  He took a hat from his coat and showed it to the toy. “Have many.” But it was the paper bag he put on. “Is best for Mono.” He put a finger to the bag, and turned his gaze up.

  A strange creaking and some muffled rumble or other grating vibrations, rebounded down into the room. He’s not sure what. It was something dragged, or flopping over and over. He didn’t like it. The walls felt certain and strong, but a collapse could happen when he least expected. That happened in the forest.

  He did a story for the toy. He did a tree – like the way the Thin Man did the tree – and then a log rolling, all down a steep hill. But Mono was fast! Maybe he did a teleport? Who knows! That was why Mono was the best.

  After another rest and then a scout, he showed the toy the room with the splintered ceiling. Then he took the toy, and they watched the window together. He wanted to see the Thin Man somewhere below, looming in the roads. But it was foggy, and the glass was dingy from age and whatever else. Only when the clouds cleared enough, did the distorted surface hold enough blaze to singe through the traces and marks he placed into the surface.

  Creatures from books. Blades of grass and a cage. A television. Mono. A favorite food bar.

  A prickling sizzle brushed the back of his neck, but when Mono looked back, nothing stood there. Sometimes being dry made everything feel weird. He wasn’t used to it.

  He went to the room with his nest, and set the toy creature (he’s not sure what animal) into the folds of shirts. Mono took a piece of wood and scratched into the wall, while the toy watched.

  Somewhere, long ago. Mono left the Thin Man and never came back. Everyone left the Thin Man. Then when the Thin Man was lost and wandering, he found Mono. Mono did something, and then the Thin Man keeps.

  Mono scooted away from the pictures and joined the toy in his nest. The stuffed creature was soft against his sore sides. He could tug the arms around his shoulders, and pretend another kid was keeping watch. It wasn’t real, but he liked to trick himself too. It was important.

  __

  In between his scouts of rooms, Mono added more speek to the wall. He particularly liked one of when he dropped a block of brick on a large toad. The picture was really gory, just for scratch marks put into wood. It took a while to get that one done and his arm still ached from all that.

  The story he worked on now, was about the Snatcher and—

  Midway through carving out an ugly face, the ceiling above shattered. A thought barely passed through Mono’s head, he reflexively teleported to the other side of the wall. From inside the room the scrambling violence went muffled, but the tremors rebounded through the slates beneath his back. He rolled over and stood, first double checking that he was in the hall and that all of the lights had not busted in the crash. He would not get far if he got cornered, and he would get cornered if he lost his sense of direction in suffocating black.

  He scooted along the wall, until he reached the doorway of the room he (once) nested in. Waves of dust huffed from the entry, nearly causing him to sneeze. He blinked at the dry powder and listened to the garbled wheezing from within. The thing clomped around, but not in a heavy and deliberate way.

  A Viewer.

  For a panicked instant, Mono is blanked on what to do. Others? No flee! The Thin Man would hate him if he let dangers overrun their dwelling! But he searched the place inside and backwards, he did not have a way to fix this. Not unless he smacked it with a board, and then lure… he had something.

  “Psst.” Mono lunged out from behind the wall and beckoned the creature. “Hanh!”

  Before the Viewer fully turned around, it was already running. The sluggish, half vault sent it smashing into the edge of the doorframe; this miscalculation sent it down, but briefly. It’s body hadn’t fully stopped rolling through plaster, but it was already propelling sideways to reach the child.

  Mono winced but took off. The delay wouldn’t delay it, the monster would catch up quickly – if he didn’t already know how fast they could be – his hops and lunges went punctuated with a teleport. Meanwhile, down the hall the Viewer gave a nasally wail and commenced its charge. The jerky hazard clunked and barreled left and right, deflecting off the bent walls as if it was ricocheting down a narrow chute. All the same, the mindless figure gained despite Mono’s swift race.

  He turned into the room he didn’t like. The one with the splintered, battered ceiling. Some trauma of erosion infected the walls all around, but the sort Mono didn’t know. It was the only lead he had, before the Viewer wandered around and got lost.

  With a last sequence of teleports, he bypassed the room in three bounds. He strafed along a wall where the surroundings felt stable and crouched, as the Viewer barreled in without a conscious thought. It made it halfway across the floor before Mono made another teleport, the instant he vanished the Viewer collided with the wall.

  Flakes of plaster rained down, among scraps of wallpaper. Mono shook his head and glanced up, adjusting his bag with the movement to inspect the ceiling. A crack formed where the edge of ceiling and upper wall met, a chunk of wood jutted out. When the Viewer began thrashing around and fumbling to rise, Mono swept his arms up.

  An avalanche of serrated planks and dust churned downward, the catastrophe enveloped the Viewer and chomped through the floor beneath. Mono ducked aside, but the slates beneath him flipped upward and before he could move once more, he slid across the coarse incline toward the black dust surging upward.

  In a reflexive leap, he flung himself to another mangled portion of boards pinned beneath the walls base, though these boards didn’t tear loose and chase the Viewer. Mono toppled onto the flanking planks and before he orientate himself let alone recovery, he blanked out. A gust of silt swamped his form, the croaking splinters and agonized groans subsided. The room where so much happened began to relax into its new state of ruin.

  Ages later, Mono did stir from the bundle he toppled into. He was sluggish and had no recollection of what happened, where he was, not to mention the gaping hole right beside where he lay. As he uncoiled more and felt the familiar ache in his shoulders and head, grainy snaps sizzled in the fog of his memory. The forefront and most vivid recount was the Viewer! Where-

  He crept closer to the broken edge he awoke on, and peered into the blanket of gloom draped below. It took several blink and a rub of his eyes to really work out the grit, especially with the harsh cut of light searing into the black cover. The glittery blade of light seared across the twisted shape of the Viewer, skewered by jagged spikes and plaster. It persisted to twist and twitch, but Mono decided the erratic movement no longer needed his attention. With its legs twisted that way, he didn’t think it would pay him another visit.

  With a couple of well placed - somewhat risky jumps - he bypassed the deleted floor and made it to the crooked doorway without incident. It took a great effort of his depleted energy to heave the door shut, but he managed. He scratched in a picture as well, to (maybe) warn the Thin Man not to go in there. The Thin Man could be an idiot at times.

  The room favored for his nest was… wrecked. Chunks of wood and twisted metal tore open bags, the few furniture that hadn’t been destroyed was now incorporated into the destruction. He did find the toy!

  The plush was a different color from all the dust, but only some of its stitching came undone. He clutched it tightly. And sneezed.

  Above and whatever made the upper level, he couldn’t decide what might have been there or where the Viewer came from. Aside from it wandering, and unwanted. It ruined his nest and his shelter. And the Thin Man might figure a Viewer came, and he might never come back. The tall thin man hated Viewers, but he couldn’t hide like Mono. He might not come. The Viewer might make him leave. Maybe it already scared the Thin Man away, and Mono would never see him.

  While he waited and had a think on what to do, Mono busied himself with a new nest. He picked another but not as great room, and tugged in some shirts and a pair of pants. The toy sat by the wall watching his progress, while he folded and worked with the new material. He shoved everything behind a hollow and broken chest, which held secluded hovels he could dart into. Very important.

  The room did have an unseen break in the floor, where he could slip into a shallow space hidden from above. Through exploration he found that the under space didn’t go anywhere, but he could wriggle among the boards and scuffle through clumps of lint. It was a good place to explore and huddle in, when he was nervous that the Viewer might have climbed out of the pit to search for him. This room was far from the destroyed place, but the event made him wary of more dangers crashing in.

  Mono had quite a bit to do between the scouts. He stopped and wrote another story for the plush, while they sat in the kitchen. It took a while to carve deep lines in the wall, and make the speek clear.

  “Eye,” he whispered. “And Her.” He tried to keep more quiet and mumbled for the toy. In case…. “Kille’t. Is laugh for hate. Grr. Trick. Trick. Hurt.” Then Eyes. Lots and lots of Eyes. Then....

  The story was scratched and slashed into sawdust. Mono dragged his flint piece through the wood, hurting the eyes and the speek of children running. By the end - and such a long time later - nothing but a raw wound in the wall awaited for inspection. The whole event never happened.

  With that busy concluded, Mono sat with the toy and watched the kitchen. Then he wondered if the Thin Man… ever found Her. Was that why Mono never saw Her? Not that the think meant anything to Mono, but he should puzzle about Her. Where She was. What happened. Why?

  Did the Thin Man look for Her, too? Mono never wanted to see Her again. He still wanted to ask the Thin Man, but he was afraid. All of them... gone, but he wasn't stole. He got away because he was faster.

  The toy was good to squeeze and bury his face against. He told the plush that the Thin Man would come back. They tricked the monster and the dwelling was safe. The Thin Man knew everything.

  __

  Al lot of the food stuff containers and crushed wrappings, even from the cabinets, blocked the door of the big fridge unit from moving. Some of the food left in the cold shelves started to smell, and Mono knew better than to test if it was safe. Climbing shelves was hard too, and then trying to pull—

  The lights pulsed and a somber crackle threaded through the hall. Mono glanced around, as he held a cylinder container of something goopy (it was good). Was the storm? This flash was different. The electric haze scent changed too, the same way when....

  He threw aside the container and rushed from the kitchen, he took the hall and raced full tilt. Clicking! And another sizzling-pop!

  In his own glimmer, Mono threw himself from the corridor and into one of the rooms. He slid up under a desk and huddled by the furniture’s leg, unable to restrain himself from racing out to the tallest figure standing across the room and beside the wall. He was about to creep out and make speek, but… something was wrong. He wanted to go over and check the Thin Man. He looked hurt.

  But he’s wary of trick.

  Mono cringed when the Thin Man toppled against the wall, pawed against the peeling surface with his palm, but ultimately crashed to his knees. There the hunched figure stayed, swaying back and forth. The static buzzed through Mono’s ears, but his eyes never dropped from the Thin Man. Hurt. Really hurt.

  The Thin Man touched his face and made a noise. With a lurch and sputter, the tallest silhouette struggled to rise – maybe in a glittering crackle? One long leg bent up, but his coordination was tipsy and his shoe scuffed over the worn floorboards.

  Steeling himself, Mono scooted from beneath the desk and took up a sock. “Hey.” He flinched when the Thin Man glanced his way.

  “Ä̴͇́̌ḧ̷̼̥́̕.̴̰̀ ̶̼͌͂ͅŤ̷̢̮̈́h̷̫͊́e̸̢͇̓ ̵͈̻͋̂B̴͍͎͌͘ȏ̴̞͊ȳ̷̲̽.̸͚͕͛ Ș̴͝h̵̳͆̋ỹ̴̰ ̵̝̾F̸͕͕̚r̵̼͇̀ǫ̴͐͑m̵͜͠ ̸̩͂T̸̗̈́h̷̭̙̍͌e̵̤̞̔ ̵̢̻́Ẅ̸̗ó̷̫r̷̙̍͗l̷͇̒̌d̵̦̰͗͠.̸̪̏ ̴͕̃Ḥ̵̠͂͛m̸̆ͅm̵͓̬̊̈́m̸͖͂̊?̷̗̿”

  Mono tilted his head. Inspecting the Thin Man now, he didn’t look hurt. He didn’t act the way of hurt. Wasn’t he smiling? The entire thing made Mono confused. Did the Thin Man not think he was hurt?

  “Are… um? Hmm. Y’fall.”

  The Thin Man snorted. “Ṭ̴̛̍h̵̨͆i̷͍̋s̴͍̓̾?̵̠̿͐ ̷̹̟̀̀Ț̵͎͠ḣ̷̖i̸̲̓̚͜s̴̲͐ ̴͙̎̽Í̸̡͍s̸̡̆ ̸̲̀̌N̵̨͎͠ö̷̩́t̵̩͑͂h̶̡͎͊͠i̶̮̽n̶̜̂͘͜g̷̲͔͊̾.̴̝̮͠”

  Mono really wanted to get closer and check, especially while the Thin Man was okay with him getting nearer. But he also didn’t want the tall thin man to fall on him, and with how wobbly he was with sitting and doing nothing, it could happen. Mono liked to think ahead.

  He did shuffle closer, but kept sharp study of the Thin Man’s motions and rocky sway.

  A dry rasp burbled from the Thin Man, and he moved a hand closer to him. “C̴͓̘̋̽o̴̧͆ḿ̴̮͝ě̶͍͇ ̵̧̒̇ H̸̡̓ȅ̷̻͖̾r̶͔̃̑e̴͓̓.̶̝͚̃ ̶̭͑̽ I̴̬̼͐ ̸̩͊̎ S̶̖̉͠h̴̗̳̑o̵͇͎̕ú̷̱͇l̵̻̪͐̈́ḍ̷͌ ̵̖͍͐ Ḻ̷͍͝i̸̳̹̔̇k̸̟͇̀ẹ̷̗̅̉ ̷̯̆̒ T̵̛̙͆o̴̢̙̅́ ̸͈̏ S̴͇̣͠e̶̯͎̾è̵̤̥́ ̶̭̄ Ṯ̵͔̈́h̴͈̐̈́ë̷̹͓ ̴͚̏͋ B̸͚̱̿r̵̦̈a̵̲͈̔̉v̴̺̀e̸̢̦͑͝ ̴̝͗͐ B̵̠̿o̷͘ͅỳ̷̧̭.̴̜̅͛”

  He probably wanted to tease Mono. He did inch closer, but his good senses locked him from getting within grabbing range. He sniffed and tipped his head, trying to work this strange act out. The Thin Man looked unharmed, but he smiled in not the way Mono liked. And a little more. It was a trick. Or a trap. This was the Thin Man, but also it didn’t smell like the Thin Man. The static fizzled dark and vibrant around his shape, nearly obscuring his outline in the simmering light. It almost surprised Mono that he could move without that dragging delay, which was more convincing to mind his distance.

  With a shake of his head, Mono dumped the sock and rushed back to the desk. He  hid behind one of the legs, but kept his toes braced and his focus sharp, should the Thin Man decide to move or flicker. Anything could happen, but Mono had no idea what might come about.

  “Y̵̟͂̈́ō̴̝̓u̷̮͆ ̵̳͙̈Ņ̴̑e̶̩͛ṽ̶̹̰e̸̯͙͂̓r̸̬̜͐͘ ̶͍̚W̴̲̓ả̵̧͎̀n̴̜̈́t̸̫̘̍̓ ̶͕̀T̵̗̂̌͜ȏ̶̞̺ ̵̨̣̌͗ B̷̪͂̊e̷͈͌̇ ̵̦̒A̷̻̰̾͝r̶͗ͅo̷̠̒ụ̸̓n̸͔͔̄̀d̵͈̒͌ ̵̖͆̂M̶͓̱̑̈e̴̮̎́,̷̾ͅ” the Thin Man hissed. He pushed off the floor and got to his feet, but faltered and caught himself against the doorway of the corridor. He grumbled some sounds and kept walking. “N̵̻̤̈́o̶͇͘͝t̴̡̥́̌ ̶̯̬̌̓Ṳ̶͘ṉ̸̔l̵̰̙̽̈e̷̬̝͆s̸̙̹̆̀s̷̥̋.̸͈̜̈.̸̈̎ͅ.̷͖̓̉ ̷̩̖̓̏ N̷̩̎͂ò̴̧̓t̶͍̀ ̵̗͆Ú̷̧n̸̟͔̓̚ļ̵̲̋e̵̗͆s̷̗̟͗s̴͕͌̔͜,̶̝̪͆̕”The tall figure teetered down the corridor, leaning on one wall or the other. “F̶̢͓͛͝o̴̡̠̊r̸̫̙̓̉g̷̲̒ẹ̸̲̐̉ť̴̢ ̷͙̳̾̈́Î̶͕T̶̯͗!̷͖͎̀ ̴͉͑͜T̵̠͉̿h̷̭̋ī̵̟͓͠s̴̱͇̓́ ̴̐͜Ḯ̸̢͓͝s̷͎͆ ̴̰̈́͝ - Ĭ̶̺t̷͕͆ ̸̩̊Ẃ̴̖i̸̞̅ļ̸͂l̷̰͠ ̴̣͑A̴̫̎l̶͖̑w̴̘̏å̸͜ý̵͍s̷̻̉ ̶̿͜B̴̢͌ẻ̷̜ ̵̺͛B̷̭̾ȅ̷͍ý̵̬o̷̹͛n̵̙̕d̴̲̃ ̸͍͝Y̵̦͗o̷͕̓u̷͙͒.̶͚͒”

  Mono slipped away from the desk and crept closer to the corridor, while always keeping a fair and extensive distance from the tall thin man. In case he fell or something. There wasn’t much of anything Mono could do but watch and... be there.

  The Thin Man jarred to a halt and looked back. “Y̵̠̏̇o̸̠͈͌u̷͓̬̒́ ̴̢̣̌͝Á̴̟̮r̴̗̮̄̓e̷̜̻̊̑ ̴̢̀̚F̸͓̕ö̶̥́l̸͎̃͑l̷̫̝̈́-̷̢͓̎̅l̷̼͓̾l̸͍̆́ͅô̸̜̕w̴̧͆͠-̴͚̏͋I̵̠̊Ņ̶̰̀̒G̵̗̗̓͘ ̵̤̂̈́M̸̤̦̕ě̶̖̟̚.̷̜̲̅ ̷͕̎̌��A̵̺̓r̵̩͂͛ȅ̵͕ņ̷͘'̸͈̆͋ṯ̴̺̌̚ ̸̣̍Ŷ̶̧͌o̷̱̓u̵̱̓͒?̵̡̛́”

  Mono studied the Thin Man carefully, before nodding.

  “W̶̢̜͋͑h̴̲̆ÿ̸̧͈́̈́!̶̘̥̈̎ ̵͉̪̿Ẉ̵̧̉͘h̴̝̹͂͆y̶̯͕͌ ̷͓̣̓̓B̶̘̏̊o̷̻̬͛̋t̶͚͘ẖ̷̔ė̸̙̫̂r̸̼͌?̶̢̀̔ ̶̃̽ͅẆ̶̺͍h̸͎̀ỹ̶̟̇ ̸͓̈̈́A̴̟̺͆r̵̜̞̂e̶̘̟̓ ̶̯͐̉Y̶̖̏͛o̵͎̲̍u̸̘̯̍̚ ̴̖̐̀Ş̷̮̅͠u̸̗̠͒̕ć̴̮̣h̶̜͇̅͝ ̸͙̐͝A̸̜̖͝ ̸̟͎̈́B̸͉̤̈o̴̗̔t̵̺͆h̶̩̒͘e̴͈̐r̸̼̪͂̚?̵̢̟̍͘”

  The speek confused Mono. He was worried about the Thin Man, but the Thin Man always hides his hurts and leaves. Was there a way to fix this? He didn’t know what happened, let alone what could help the Thin Man.

  With a scoff and a shimmer, the shimmering silhouette dissolved. And Mono went on immediate alert, scrambling forward and checking back over his shoulder. The static faded and the soft blaze bristled in the corridor. He didn’t know where the Thin Man was or where he might’ve gone. It was safe to move, but he was cautious while venturing through the halls.

  None of the rooms sheltered the Thin Man, but he did suspect where the man and his hat had gone. He did make his way to the room with the recliner, and there was the Thin Man. The tall, bent figure sat hunched in the chair, and bowed over the small table. Mono slipped into the room and moved close to the table, but not too close. From where he crouched, he peered over the edge enough to see the man in the hat.

  “T̵̖͑h̸̡͚͝e̸̢̝͂ ̷͇̑͗M̸̌͜ô̶̡̤͠m̶̺͐ĕ̸̤̭͠ǹ̵͉̬t̷̻̀ ̸͈̑̕I̶̤̅̕ ̸͎̑̔ͅP̴̫͐̚ͅḁ̷̐r̷̗̺͒k̴̟̼͛ ̵̟̘̊͛Ḿ̴̳ÿ̴̫̣s̸͍̻̚ḛ̷͑͝l̴̪̓f̵̣̘̋.̶̺͍̄” He snickered, but the scowl returned.

  Mono smiled behind the bag. He wanted to be closer and do company, but his finetuned instincts were much stronger than his fickle yearning. “Y’see. How wait?” he whispered. The Thin Man put his face into his hands, the crackling buzz thickened in the room and for a moment, Mono couldn't gather if the Thin Man was speek or muttering, or if he was hearing things.

  “W̶̥͑h̴̲͌ỳ̶̥̥̀ ̴̛̟͇̑A̴̗̖̾r̵̲̚ë̴͔̬́ ̷̼͛Y̴̭̾̑o̷̞̙̎u̵̠̾̎ ̵̪͛H̵̥͍͂̕e̴̢͙͋r̵̭̈́͝ë̷͓́ͅ?̷̟̠̈́̒ ̵̢̹̎͝Ẁ̸̙̲͝h̴̳̜̔̏y̶̱͋ ̸̛͖̪̄D̴̩̃ỏ̶̭ ̶̲̤̚Y̷̟̾̐o̷̢͖̓u̸͈̓ ̸̣̍̍H̷̳́̄a̶̗͑͝v̴̼̆ė̴̟̗̂ ̴͎̊̔N̸̙̖̐͝ǫ̸̼͌t̵̞̞͐͂h̸̬͌i̴̼̊n̵̹͇̓g̸̛̜̫͂?̶̠̣͑”

  Mono uncurled some to see more above the table. “You.”

  “M̴̮̈̔e̷̳̎̈́.̵̩̝̇͝ ̶̤͊͝I̴̢͕̾̍ ̵̗͂Ḁ̸̱̓͗m̵̭͙͆ ̷̡̭̐̓N̶̮̫̆͋o̴̡̙̿͒t̵̢̛̺̓h̸̲͆͝i̵̜̓ń̷̢͛͜g̷͂͜ ̸̛̯B̵̙̘̊̍u̴͆̈ͅt̷̢̑͝ ̶̦̈̐Ȁ̸̗ ̵͕̗̾͗F̶̛̭̪̀i̸̤͚͒ḡ̵͎̼m̴̬̉͜e̷̠̫͂n̴̙̅̓͜t̴̢͕̔ ̵̗͙̊͂O̸͎̦̍̒f̶͎͗ ̴̜́͂Y̶̫̐ŏ̵̭͛u̴̜͖͒r̶̼̜̔ ̷̻̰̈M̶͓͒́ì̸̧̾ͅn̵̩̭̅͂d̷͙̭̓s̵̬̈́̇ ̶͇̻̈́C̴̨͔̑̾r̵̯̘͐e̶̜̬̔͝ḁ̸̟̌̑t̸͍̺͂ǐ̴̮o̶͉̹͗́ñ̴ͅ.̵̹͛ ̸͚̃A̷̧̱͋̉ ̸̱͇͌N̷̰̾̕i̶̯̦͊͘g̸̻̈̊ḩ̸̡̛̆t̴̬͠m̴̢̯͌̃a̵̰̓͝r̶̘̄e̵͕͖͌.̷̝̈” The Thin Man braced one elbow to the table and set his check upon the palm. The other arm stretched out, which spurred Mono to scuttle backwards. “Ý̸͇o̶͔͒ͅụ̸̎͜.̶̡̕ ̸̩̿̿Ý̷̥ò̸̙͙́ư̵͔̱̌.̷̩͖̓ ̵̭͕̃͑Y̵̞̌o̵͕̰͋̽u̴̠̱̅.̴͍̻̇ ̷̄ͅY̸͔̓̏ọ̷̟̑u̶̺͂̂.̷̗̃ ̵̦͉͘L̶̰̆è̵̠̅t̵͚̍͊ ̵̲̎͘ͅM̴̭̃e̷̱̝̊ ̸̜͋͂Š̸̼e̷͍̍͝e̴̢̛̝ ̴̛̱͓̈Ẏ̵̺o̸̙͆ȗ̶͖̣.̵͍̯̑ C̴̪̬̏̋o̸̢̖͑̃m̷͔̋̓ë̴̜́ͅ ̶̥̾Ȍ̶͔̍n̴̗̣̓͝.̶̛̗ ̷̳̼͋̕I̵̔̒͜ ̶̮̳̆W̸͔̅̀o̵̱̾u̴̳̎l̶͔͌͘d̸̡̔ ̷̰̈N̴̺̒͝ḙ̷̐v̷̨̻̔͊e̸̛̺r̷͕̒́ ̸̟̋̅H̶̩̀a̵̢͒ȓ̷̤͋m̵̰͖͗͒ ̴͖͂͐Ś̸͇ű̷͚c̶̈́ͅĥ̴̝ ̶̦͝A̸̼͐ ̵͚́C̷̻͗ḻ̸̛e̷̢͘v̵̤͑ȩ̴͠r̵͈̽.̵̣́.̴͖̐.̵̭͋ ̵̣̉Y̸̪̕o̶̟͘ȗ̷̺.̷̹̅”

  The way the Thin Man did speek was more different, and everything made Mono uneasy. It was hard for the Thin Man, since he didn’t understand anything. He really wanted to help the Thin Man and make certain he was all right, but it wouldn’t be good for the Thin Man if Mono was hurt. How would the Thin Man have food or be looked after, without Mono?

  He backed away, always keeping his firm attention on the Thin Man, and stayed sharp to any disturbance –a shift of static, a flutter in the white noise. The Thin Man let his upturned palm flop over, but otherwise didn’t move. He did smile.

  Once Mono was out of the room, he turned and ran away. He wasn’t sure if the Thin Man would be able to stand let alone pursue, but he didn’t take chances. The room he nested in wasn’t far. He wouldn’t be too gone, in case the Thin Man needed him.

  Aside from get his toy, he didn’t stay in the nest. He found the hidden break in the floor and slipped into the dark confines beneath the slates. Bars of light glistened over his arms and he hauled the toy with him, squeezing through tight gaps among the narrow pillars, until he wriggled into a shallow bowl in the dust, deep and hidden away.

  Somewhere beyond the walls, he’s sure the Thin Man was doing speek. He could be confused and think Mono was still there, or wanted to speek for someone. It made Mono feel bad, he would have been happy to stay for the Thin Man. At least Mono did keep the place safe, and the Thin Man did come back. What happened to the Thin Man? This was a more strange than usual.

  He didn’t think the Thin Man was lie or wanted to trick Mono, but for some reason, Mono didn’t think it was smart to trust the Thin Man. Not while the Thin Man seemed confused and didn’t know why he does thing.

  In a sharp beam, Mono looked the toy over. He sort of fixed it after the ceiling collapsed, but he could only do so much. He took a wad of lint and stuffed it into the toys tummy, and tugged the bent threads until the seam was tight and solid again.

  It made him think of Her. When they hid in sheltered holes and squished into the other, until no whisper of chill pricked at them. Between the gnarled haunts snatching at their minds, they would fumble and twist to get comfortable and not get shoved out into open air. The toy was nice, all he did was squeeze it and hide under its arm. It muffled out the noise of the Thin Man speek and the click of his steps. Mono thought about the foods he had left, and wondered if he should make a new food concoction. When it was more quiet, he would check on the Thin Man. 

Next

[echo-of-sounds]

halloween pt.3

Small Halloween drabbles with Aizawa, Toshi, Hizashi, and Fatgum.

Hizashi’s is for a mature audience. I realized how horrible it would be to go shopping with him. He’s definitely the type to get distracted by everything that you have to keep pulling along to get your shopping done.

Aizawa Shouta - Halloween Fair

“Let’s go down there.” You pointed to the branching street.

Aizawa took a long swig of his beer before chiding, “We’re not going to waste money on any games.”

“Sho, come on. You said you wanted to come with me but you don’t want to try anything.”

“They’re rigged and the prizes aren’t even good.”

You grabbed his hand, stopping him in the middle of the flowing crowd. “If we’re not going to do anything, let’s just go home. We’ve already walked everywhere and petted all the animals, anyway.”

He stared at you. Eyebrows weighed low. Dark eyes reflected twinkling lights. Only he could manage an incredibly grumpy expression surrounded by cute mermaid and fairy costumes and glittering jack-o’-lanterns. 

Heaving a long sigh, he glared at the stuffed animals in the distance. “Two games.”

“Each?”

“In total.”

You smiled wide and led him down the street. A wall of balloons caught your attention. Orange and black balloons laid out a pumpkin design with purple ones enclosing it. A fair amount had been popped. “I’ll play this.”

“It’s the easiest game here.”

“Which is why I’m choosing it,” you whispered so the worker didn’t hear. She handed you three darts. You quickly and rather easily popped three balloons.

“You can choose from those items,” the worker said, motioning to the right side.

The giant bat stuffed animal was the only real choice. Its wings fit around your shoulders and Velcroed together in the front. You wore it like a shawl.

Shouta just glowered at it. You squeezed his hand, smiling and requesting, “Can you try to have some fun? If not for you, for me?”

“I don’t see how any of these games can be fun. Most depend on dumb luck and the very few that require skill don’t offer good prizes. It’s how they take your money.”

“Try this one. There’s skill in it.” You walked to the apple bobbing game. “Looks like a new group is about to go. Join them.”

He kept his groan to himself. A buff man was talking with, or more like to his girlfriend, about using his skillful mouth to win. His gaudy machismo grated almost everyone around him.

“Dumb place to brag about that,” you muttered, noting the kids running by.

Shouta finished his beer, then agreed with a smirk, “Cherry stems are better at proving that anyway.” He tied his hair back and handed over his cellphone and wallet. “Hold these.”

He lined up at the basins right beside the big guy. The worker explained they couldn’t use their hands and the first to catch one in their mouth, won. The contestants crossed their arms behind their backs. A whistle blew and everyone’s head dipped into the water, splashing and soaking themselves.

But Sho waited, calmly watching the apples float and spin. He bowed for one. His nose and chin barely ducked under the surface to swiftly pop back up, holding an apple by the stem. The worker blew his whistle, congratulating him as the winner. A bag filled with colorful objects was thrust into his arms.

Lifting the bottom of his shirt, flashing his abs, Sho dried his face and returned to you. He handed over the prize: a bunch of 3D puzzle cubes and toy puzzle games.

Despite knowing he didn’t like PDA, you gave him a peck on the cheek. And you couldn’t help but smile overhearing the buff man accusing him of cheating. You’d rather deal with a grumbling and grumpy Shouta than someone who’s way too into it like that guy.

Yagi Toshinori - Haunted Hedge Maze

A blast of air rocketed out. You spun, hiding against Toshi. Despite his laugh, you felt his hand shaking on your back and his heartbeat quickening. “It was only an air cannon, sweetheart.”

You glimpsed out from the safety of his chest. No monster or man stood on the path. You muttered to yourself, “Okay, alright, I’m good.”

“Let’s go. The faster we walk, the faster we get out of this.”

“Yeah.” You stayed flush behind him, holding his hand, letting him lead. Beams shot into the night sky from all over, giving a little light. The dirt walkway was barely visible under the smog.

“Left or right?”

A yelp came somewhere from the right. His shoulders stiffened for a millisecond. You answered, “Definitely left.”

“Definitely.”

Something popped out from the hedge, growling and crackling and dripping liquid. You tucked into his shoulder blade as you walked past the monster. It glared then lurched forward. You pushed on Toshi’s back, “Go, go, go!”

The corner opened to a spacious area- definitely not the end. Little girls danced around in circles, all singing different nursery rhymes. Their white dresses splattered red with blood. When you took a step, they stopped, turned, and started.

“Just walk away,” you whispered.

He nodded, slowly shuffling to a new path. Right as he was about to step over the threshold, a ghost vaulted down from the hedge’s arch. The girls shrieked. You turned, seeing them rushing at you.

Toshi gripped your arm and pulled you to another pathway. A few other demons and doctors jumped out, scaring you each time. Your heart began to beat a little too fast, fearing you were lost.

But Toshi didn’t stop. He kept his hold and hurried forward, eventually rounding a corner that revealed the end. Relief smacked your chest. You could breathe and took the finish line’s safety to kiss him deeply. 

Fingers dug into your forearm, shaking more than before. He asked when you broke the kiss, “Are you alright?”

“Are you?” you said, half breathless, half laughing.

“I’m okay.” He looked at the Haunted Mansion’s front doors. “Do you want to go in there next?”

You scarcely made it through the hedge maze, but if he truly wanted to go through the next part of the haunt, you would. You croaked, “Yeah.”

Blue eyes snapped to you. “Are you sure?”

“Are you?”

A group of teens walked out giggling. They complained about the ‘lack of horror’ and mentioned heading to a nearby restaurant.

Toshi cleared his throat, “I could go for some food.”

“Me too. Let’s go.” You scurried back to the car, more than ready to leave.

Yamada Hizashi - Costume Shopping

Nothing caught your eye in any of the rows and racks. Hizashi’s laughter came from another aisle. He popped out, holding a racy maid costume, chuckling, “You’d look so sexy in this. Try it on!”

“No.” You grabbed it and hung it back on the rack. “If I’m going as sexy anything, I’m going as sexy Present Mic.”

Arms embraced your waist. Lips kissed and nipped your neck. You sighed his name, trying not to get distracted like he’s been the entire damn day. “I’d rather not get it on in a witch shop.”

“It’s a metaphysical shop,” he corrected. 

“Whatever. We’re just here for costumes. Have you found anything good?”

“No.”

“Well, we’re screwed then. We’ve checked everywhere else.”

“It’ll be fine.”

He continued his kissing while you searched the hanging outfits, hoping just one was good enough to wear, but it was all sexy nun, sexy clown, and sexy Pikachu. It wasn’t too much to ask for a decent costume. Or at least something that’s actually sexy, not a children's video game character.

Hands rubbed down your hips, clearly in want. You sighed, “Go try to find something.”

“Alright,” he sulked away. But he scurried back thirty seconds later, smiling as wide as he could, holding a green cylinder with spirals. “What about this?”

“What the hell is it?”

He read the sticker, “A six-inch, Reiki infused, jade dildo that increases love-”

“Hizashi.”

“- and nurturing, and stimulates and aids in emotional-”

“Hizashi.”

“- release. It also boosts fertility and balances bodily fluids.” His eyebrows bobbed up and down as he smirked at you.

“Hizashi, did you find a costume?”

“Oh no, I got distracted in the sex toy section.”

“You were gone for a few seconds. Costume shopping shouldn’t be this hard,” you grumbled, walking the rest of the aisle.

He followed, hugging you again, kissing your shoulder. “Don’t stress about it, baby. We’ll find something.”

“The party’s tonight and unless you’re going as a sex enthusiast, we don’t have anything to wear.”

His head snapped up. And you realized you shouldn’t have given him the idea because he ran back to the sexy maid dress. “I’m totally going as a sex enthusiast.”

You laughed, “You think you can fit your shoulders in that dress?”

“I’ll make it work. I’ll educate people on sex safety and give out free orgasms.”

“You’ll give me free orgasms. No one else gets you.” You kissed him.

“Oh, here!” He picked up something from the floor. It was a gray headband with mouse ears. “You can wear your gray dress and those fishnet stockings with the lace,” he hummed, pulling your waist against him. “And that cute, little pink bow you wear for me whenever I ask because you’re such a good-”

“Are you guys gonna, like, buy somethin’ or just keep makin’ out?” The worker blew a giant bubble with her gum.

“Sorry.” You took the items from Hizashi. “We’ll take these.”

Taishiro Toyomitsu - Making Candies and Cookies

Tai meticulously spaced out the globs into four rows, measuring their size and roundness till they were perfect. When it was filled, he took out another baking sheet.

“What do you need that for?”

“Oh, there’s more.” He tilted the bowl down. A huge amount of cookie dough still remained. “I quadrupled the recipe. Gonna make seventy-two!”

“Tai, we don’t need seventy-two cookies.”

“I do.”

“We already have two pies, fudge, brittle, and a truckload of whoopie pies. I think we have enough,” you laughed.

“Nah. I found a good recipe for peanut butter bark. Looks good.” He pulled a recipe from the top of the microwave, handing it to you as he finished pouring the cookie dough. “Get the stuff out, babe. We’re making that next.”

Pans and crumbs scattered over the counter. Foil and containers were running low. Silverware lumped in the sink. All the snacks and desserts were arranged on the table. As much as you enjoyed sweets, you weren’t confident in yourself to finish all of them.

“We’re going to be sick come Monday.”

“We’ll deal with it then.” He kissed your forehead on his way to the sink. 

You gathered the ingredients. The chocolate chips melted quickly. As you poured it, Tai kept trying to smudge some on your arms or nab the candies before you could use them. You fended him off each time and sprinkled peanut butter cups, toffee, and candy over the melted chocolate.

The white chocolate was next. Right when you were about to drizzle it, a finger sunk into it, gathered a globule, and moved to smear it on your cheek. You grabbed his arm, laughing, “Tai, don’t.”

“You just need a little right there.”

He poked your nose. Between your giggling and his strength, you struggled to hold his arm away. 

“Trust me, baby. I know what’s best for you. It’ll look pretty.”

“No-” Fingers tickled your side. You tried dodging it, but he followed, ultimately plastering your face with the chocolate. His mouth landed next, smooching and licking it up through your laughing.

You scooped some onto two fingers and smeared it over his forehead. It clung to his hair which rubbed off on yours as he continued tickling your sides. He wasn’t going to release you until you were nearly peeing your pants.

[timberwolf-wwe-marvel]

A new family

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Summary: The Guys in White get blocked by Timberwolf, but after revealing their latest hostage Timberwolf has an ultimatum.  Hand over the Fentons, save the girl, or watch her die; Timberwolf makes his own choice.  (In other words, Mama bear may be scary, but not even she can take down an angry Papa Timberwolf.)

The plan is simple for Timberwolf, knockout the GIW for authorities to corral them, then help Phantom with the natural portal.  So when he disarms to guards with strike discs, he expects to be done by one, yet fate always messes with him.  Operative Kyle and Operative Owen wore the same attire; Timberwolf moves to grab his batons, “Ah-ah, don't you want to meet someone?”  The truck behind them opens to reveal a cylinder tube; Danellie Phantom, or Ellie.  She barely looks up at him; lower-ranked operatives step up behind him.

“Why do you have her,”  a scoff is thrown his way, “That thing’s not a her, their an it.”  Operative Kyle snaps, pulling out a funky-looking gun, “This bad boy was designed by the Fentons; it can send ghosts back to the Ghost Zone, but where’s the fun in that.”  Timberwolf noticed how the girl shrinks at the sight of the gun; Operative Kyle aims at a nearby oak tree, it disintegrates when hit.  “You forget one Johnathan Kyle,” Timberwolf throws a pellet at the spot; a massive tree grows in its place.  A similar pellet is thrown at the cylinder; Timberwolf uses the batons to knockout the agents behind him. 

A quick sprint results in both operatives on their backs, groaning in pain.  He easily removes the reinforcements, noting the sloppiness from the fear inside them.  During this time, Ellie gains her power back finally bust through.  “Tell me!”  She follows the voice, spotting Timberwolf, baton to the throat of an un-named agent, “I don't know, I swear.”

“Liar!  Tell me why you’re boss wants the Fenton kids now, or find an outstanding lawyer.”  Timberwolf snarls, the baton is ablaze with green energy, the agent whimpers, “They want to perform the same experiment that gave Phantom his powers!”  The agent faints; Timberwolf lets them splat on the ground, “You’re okay now.”  Ellie walks forward, stumbling slightly; Timberwolf catches her after she trips.

“There’s a natural portal not too far from here; I’m sure you get more energy from that.”  Ellie lets the man hold her close; she feels safe, almost like she’s with Danny.  She hears the man talking but thinks nothing of it.  “Get some sleep; you’ll feel better when you get some fresh ectoplasm in your system.”  Ellie takes his word, resting herself against his chest.  

Timberwolf glances down; Ellie has long since fallen asleep, leaving the man with his thoughts.  “Timberwolf, we’re close.  Did anything happen,” he looks at the young girl, “You’ll see for yourself,” he replies.  A bright flash next to him startles him, looking to see Ellie in human form; his heart swells.  “Hey, we, Dani,”  Phantom is staring at his young clone; Timberwolf removes his helmet, “The Guys in White had her.

I took care of them.”  Daniel says the young male sits beside the girl, gently pulling her into his lap.  “You’ll have to carry her through the Zone, but she’ll get her energy back.”  Danny looks up at the man. If Timberwolf giving the Guys in White a beatdown was anything to go by; then he’s excellent.

“Walker, help me tie up these agents, Phantom, get Ellie into the Zone.”

Time skip

Wolfden, 15:37

Ellie is flying around the Wolfden, clocking in at around 37 mph, half the speed of Phantom, which is 74 mph.  Timberwolf is filing a new report, with Jazz looking over his shoulder.  “So, who’s the Timberwolf’s employer, someone I may know?”  Daniel doesn’t answer, but instead, he holds up a letter, “From Wayne Industries, the man himself wants to meet up, and kids are allowed,”  “As long as they don't use their powers.”  Daniel nods with a smile; he’s looking forward to this, “Mine and his parents are good friends; I met Bruce when we were barely old enough to walk.”

The older phantom takes the letter, reading through it, “Business deal, what kind of business deal?”  “The professional kind, but you three can join me, but no powers.” Finishing the report, he stands up, “Kids, it’s time to go shopping; we have a banquet to attend in five days.”  All four exit the Wolfden; Daniel hangs up the suit, letting it charge.  “Are you guys meeting in the middle, or,” “No, we’re heading straight to Gotham.”

Batcave

Time  21:30

Bruce smiles, looking at the blueprints Wolfcorp Eco Labs sent two weeks ago; he had caught Poison Ivy as Batman trying to steal them.  Sun panels line the establishment's roof, allowing the building to charge with the energy.  Poison Ivy was surprised to learn it was a greenhouse layout; even Bruce was stunned.  If he does one thing, he doesn’t wear the most expensive items known to man.  He gives half his paycheck to charity; most of it heads to the charity funds in Gotham.

[sarunohadaki]

henlo it's dqtbh from my cursed main xx I'm not sure if you're still doing prompts but could I get a StS bedtime routine? <3

15: Imagine your OTP... Going through their bedtime routine.

Sylv and Erik get ready for bed.

Words: 902

Cylinders containing everything from nail polish remover to lipstick crowded the white vanity that lined their bedroom wall. Lights reflected off the mirror and onto the bottles, glinting with a subtle shine. Sylv hunched over the little space not occupied by moisturizers and make-up palettes.

The pink bathrobe hanging from his shoulders exposed a bit of his chest, but a sash kept the flared lower half hugged to his hips. The wide sleeves were short but still had the potential to tip everything on the vanity over with the wrong gesture.

Sylv pulled another towelette from a plastic box on the counter with a soft shhft and dabbed at his eye, removing the pink shadow that had coated his upper eyelid.

It smelled like roses.

The kind of sickening sweet scent that could only be attributed to Sylv's body wash, which Erik had just finished using.

His damp hair sagged against his shoulders. A towel wrapped his waist, his soft skin was still wet from his shower.

The shower door stood open, soaked tiles drying on the open air. He, too, was staring into a mirror planted above a crowded counter. Though instead of looking at his face, he was staring at his head.

"...and El was telling me..." Erik said, continuing a previous rambling mumble that had something to do with... well, actually, it didn't really matter.

"Do you think my hair's looking a little... yellow?" Erik asked.

"Hmm?" Sylv hummed, not bothering to turn around on his carefully perched seat, as he discarded another used-up wipe.

"It has been a few weeks," Erik said. "Maybe I should dye it again."

"Mmmmaybe," Sylv purred. He turned around. "Are your roots starting to show?"

"Don't know," Erik said, turning his head to the side. "Can't tell."

Sylv pulled open one of the drawers of his vanity and approached Erik from behind, holding up a handheld mirror.

He angled it so Erik could see the back of his head in the bathroom mirror.

Neither knew what to say; it was his head, blue as a cloudless summer sky. Though a little more... flat... than usual.

Erik hummed thoughtfully.

Sylv put down the mirror with a clack.

A hand found Erik's waist and slithered up to his shoulder.

"It's my turn to use the shower," Sylv said, leaning in to kiss Erik's cheek.

“Alright,” Erik said, and stepped onto the soft carpet of their bedroom, allowing Sylv to pull the bathroom door shut again.

…

The blankets rustled as Erik fixed his posture, reaching backward to adjust the level where his pillow jammed into the back of his neck. His left thumb skirted across the bottom of his phone’s cracked screen, scrolling through Twitter, when he hit a reloading icon and was sent to the top again.

He sighed heavily, though it rapidly melted into a yawn.

The bathroom door opened again and Sylv stood in the doorway in a new bathrobe, a white fluffy number. He had a plastic shower cap on his head that crinkled when he removed it, paced across the floor, and planted it on a mannequin head sitting on the top of their dresser.

They had all kinds of stuff like that laying around. So long as it had a purpose or looked cool, they kept it. This had the foreseen consequence of making for a very eclectic mixture of belongings, least of all the things in their closet, which Erik had dug through just that night for the too-large silken red and gold dragon button-up shirt he wore to bed that night.

Sylv didn’t bother sitting back down when he revisited his vanity and, with the dexterity of someone who’d done it a thousand times before, uncapped one bottle after another and applied various layers of things to his face.

He hummed as he did it, though he yawned too, almost biting down on an index finger coated in face cream.

Erik wanted to grumble for Sylv to come to bed, but a well-behaved, patient boyfriend was more likely to receive cuddles than a bossy one.

He closed out of Twitter and stared at Sylv from across the room. Once Sylv finished his skincare routine, he turned off the nine lights on his vanity, plunging the room into a much gentler, aged yellow from their nightstand lightbulb.

Sylv dropped the bathrobe once he reached the bed and crawled in.

He wore underpants, but not much else. Erik wore boxers and he’d found he much enjoyed sleeping in silk shirts. With a certain someone’s arms wrapped around his middle.

“I’m tired,” Sylv yawned, leaning across Erik’s side of the bed to hit the lights.

Erik stayed still, waiting until it was completely dark to grab Sylv for his cuddle.

“Mmmh,” Erik hummed, curling his arms around Sylv’s middle and dragging him down into the bed.

“You’re going to bruise me, being that eager,” Sylv teased.

“I’ll be gentle,” Erik whispered, already feeling his eyes grow heavier.

They played around with the fit of their bodies under the blankets, which shuffled with every movement until Sylv hummed his silent approval and stopped moving. Erik squeezed his middle one last time, then closed his eyes for good.

It occurred to him to say “goodnight,” which creaked past his lips like a whisper through a cracked window. Sylv might have answered back the same, his chest expanding just enough to push the two words through.

(From this ask game!)

[historytheone]

Just now there were exactly 777 posts in the HIStory: the One news wall. A good reason to remember what this well-known but mysterious number means, and what it has to do with the King of Pop.

777 is a number associated with luck, miracles, optimism, fulfilled dreams and support from the heavenly forces — a kind of strong embrace from the Universe itself. Its sacredness lies in the fact that it connects the two main numbers of the Universe — 3 and 7, the threefold repetition of the seven has a deep sacred meaning; it directly correlates with the mystery of the Cosmic Cycles in the aspect of Creation and with the mystery of human evolution.

777 — triple symbol of harmony; triple perfection, where quality prevails over quantity; Christian Trinity. But most interesting of all, 777 is an angelic number.

Angelic people are irrational people whose spiritual nature is immeasurably great. The way of the Angelic is honor, because their essence does not accept lies. They have an extraordinary clarity of thought and a sense of inner purity. By coming into contact with human vices, the Angelic ones adapt to Earthly conditions, and this teaches them to reveal the carefully disguised egoism of other people. Nevertheless, the comprehension of evil hurts and greatly shocks the bright and loving nature of Angelic people, but this is necessary for their embodiment: meeting with difficulties strengthens the spirit and will.

Anything that is accepted in society as a standard of virtue, but in reality is a perverted truth, cannot be accepted by the Angelic people. And their protest will not be of an internal nature, as is usually the case with low spirituality. The Angelic one will always open up, declare his position and his unwillingness to put up with injustice: he will openly fight it. Faced with the imperfection of the social structure and hypocrisy the Angelic person experiences mental suffering, but his pain is more often replaced by a faith in the correctness of the path he has chosen.

Innate optimism and love for the world — qualities that accompany the Angelic throughout life, undoubtedly alarm the spiritless part of humanity. This is the position of the Angelic people: they want to conform to the ideals of their conscience and not to the established "orders" to which mundane people are accustomed. Because conscience is what is the final argument in making any decision, while the average person first of all thinks about himself and his own benefit.

The nobility and simplicity of the Angelic ones inspire all who come in contact with them. They are sensitive, attentive, always ready to help, to provide support. An interesting feature of the "cocoon", — a protection, — of the Angelic people is static. This means that it is very difficult to influence a person so that he changes his beliefs, gives up and goes off the right path.

The owners of the three sevens are endowed with leadership qualities — they are able to help, save and lead; they always know what they need and achieve their goals. In addition, they often bring joy and a sense of happiness to other people's lives. Awarded with wisdom, they are able to truly love; have charm, refinement and skill, as well as expression, artistry and the gift of imagination. Such people are able to take fate into their own hands and move forward without relying on support from the outside.

People around them realise that this is an extraordinary person, but usually they do not understand him. After all, in addition to everything, he may also have such areas of knowledge that are inaccessible to the vast majority of people. And this exploration of the world is based, first of all, not on logic or life experience, but on a spiritual vision based on a special connection with the Universe. The abilities and skills acquired due to this will later be perceived by others as something beyond understanding — like real magic.

Agree, each of us reading this more than once thought about Michael Jackson. He perfectly corresponds to the image of a person — the Angelic? — under the protection of the number seven like no other. Let's see what was seen in the connection of this magic number with his life.

• Year of birth 1958: 19 + 58 = 77. • Birthday 29: 9 - 2 = 7. • Time of birth 00:13: 1 + 2 + 1 + 3 = 7. • First and last name: 7 letters each. • Michael was born as the 7th child. • Michael was married to the daughter of Elvis Presley, who died in 77. • Neverland Ranch address — 5225 Figueroa Mountain Road: 5 + 2 = 7; 5 + 2 = 7; that makes two sevens. • The will was signed by Michael on July 7. • Michael was found not guilty in the 2005 case on the 7th day of the jury trial. • The ambulance that brought Michael to the hospital had number 71. • Michael passed away on June 25: 2 + 5 = 7. • The memorial was on July 7, 2009 — exactly 7 years after the will was signed. • The burial took place 70 days after the date of death.

Career path:

• Michael wore three band-aids on his fingers and 7 of them without it. • "Smooth Criminal" music video — bar guests playing for money shout 'seven'. • Dangerous album cover — the number 7 on the cylinder. • The great hits "Billie Jean" and "Black or White" held the #1 position on the US charts for 7 weeks. • "Scream" music video — the number 7 on Michael's clothes. • The HIStory Tour is the most obvious link to the number 7: the armband in the album trailer; the armband on the statue; the greaves of the concert equipment are embossed in the form of a seven. • The cover of the album Blood On The Dance Floor — Michael's pose in the form of the number 7.

The three sevens together also mean control of the three levels of the mind: conscious, subconscious, and superconscious. Michael wrote love notes to his fans mentioning these things:

I truly love all of you, I am recording tonight, for all of you, you are my true inspiration forever. I am living for you and the children. Be alive, be free, feel consciousness, subconscious, being God. I love you.

Are these all just coincidences revealed by the keen eye of fans, or some mysterious mechanism? In any case, it cannot be denied that we lived in the era of the most extraordinary and truly bright person, and therefore it is quite possible that the divine number 7 was chosen not only by him, but also by someone obviously before his birth.

— HIStory: the One. The article is based on several sources.