Ragnarok temple of light legendary chest

Are you looking forward to your next vacation? Whether it's a weekend getaway or a long-awaited trip abroad, traveling can be a stressful experience if you're not prepared. That's why we've compiled a list of 10 travel tips that will help you stay organized, save money, and make the most of your time away. From packing hacks and money-saving tips to insider advice on staying healthy while on the go, these tips are designed to help you get the most out of your next adventure. So sit back, relax, and let's get ready to embark on the stress-free vacation of your dreams!

Plan and research your trip ahead of time

Planning ahead is essential when it comes to traveling stress-free. Start by researching your destination and creating a rough itinerary. Look up the best places to eat, the must-see sights, and the activities you want to do. Once you have a general idea of what you want to do, create a daily schedule that includes time for relaxation and downtime. This will help you avoid feeling overwhelmed and stressed out during your trip.
Another important aspect of planning ahead is booking your travel arrangements early. This includes your flights, accommodations, and any activities or tours you want to do. By booking early, you can often save money on your travel expenses and avoid the stress of last-minute planning. Plus, having everything booked and organized ahead of time will give you peace of mind and allow you to focus on enjoying your trip.
When planning your trip, it's also a good idea to research local customs and traditions. This will help you avoid any cultural faux pas and show respect for the local culture. For example, in some countries, it's considered impolite to wear shoes inside homes or temples. By researching ahead of time, you can avoid accidentally offending locals and make a positive impression during your trip.

Choose the right accommodations

Choosing the right accommodations is crucial to having a stress-free vacation. Consider your options carefully and choose a place that fits your needs and budget. If you're looking for a luxurious experience, consider staying at a resort or hotel with plenty of amenities. If you're on a budget, consider staying at a hostel or Airbnb. These options can be a great way to save money and meet new people during your trip.
When choosing your accommodations, be sure to read reviews from other travelers. This will give you an idea of what to expect and help you avoid any unpleasant surprises. Look for reviews that mention cleanliness, safety, and location. These are all important factors to consider when choosing a place to stay.
Finally, consider the location of your accommodations. If you want to be close to the action, choose a place that's centrally located. If you prefer a quieter experience, choose a place that's away from the hustle and bustle. By choosing the right accommodations, you can ensure a comfortable and stress-free stay.

Pack light and smart

Packing can be one of the most stressful aspects of traveling. To avoid feeling overwhelmed, start by making a packing list. This will help you stay organized and ensure that you don't forget anything important. Be sure to pack light and only bring what you need. This will make it easier to navigate airports and public transportation and avoid hefty baggage fees.
When packing, consider using packing cubes or compression bags to save space and keep your belongings organized. Roll your clothes instead of folding them to maximize space in your luggage. And don't forget to pack a small bag for your personal items, such as your passport, wallet, and phone. This will keep your essentials within easy reach and help you avoid the stress of searching through your luggage for important items.
Another packing tip is to pack versatile clothing that can be mixed and matched. This will help you create multiple outfits with fewer pieces of clothing. And be sure to check the weather forecast for your destination before you pack. This will help you avoid packing unnecessary items and ensure that you're prepared for any weather conditions.

Keep important documents and valuables safe

Keeping your important documents and valuables safe is essential to having a stress-free vacation. Start by making copies of your passport, ID, and any other important documents. Keep the copies in a separate location from the originals, such as in your luggage or with a trusted friend or family member. This will ensure that you have a backup in case your documents are lost or stolen.
When traveling, it's also important to keep your valuables safe. Consider investing in a money belt or hidden pouch to keep your cash and credit cards secure. And never leave your valuables unattended in public places, such as beaches or cafes. Keep them locked up in your accommodations or carry them with you at all times.
Finally, consider purchasing travel insurance before your trip. This will provide you with peace of mind and financial protection in case of any unexpected emergencies or accidents.

Stay hydrated and healthy

Staying hydrated and healthy is crucial to having a stress-free vacation. Start by drinking plenty of water throughout your trip. This will help you avoid dehydration and fatigue, especially if you're traveling to a hot or humid destination.
Another important aspect of staying healthy is eating well. Try to eat a balanced diet that includes plenty of fruits and vegetables. And be sure to try the local cuisine, but be mindful of any dietary restrictions or food allergies.
When traveling, it's also important to get enough sleep. This will help you feel rested and energized during your trip. And don't forget to take breaks and rest when needed. This will help you avoid burnout and ensure that you enjoy your trip to the fullest.

Make a budget and stick to it

Making a budget and sticking to it is essential to having a stress-free vacation. Start by creating a rough estimate of your travel expenses, including flights, accommodations, food, and activities. Then, factor in any additional expenses, such as souvenirs or transportation.
Once you have a budget in place, stick to it as closely as possible. Avoid overspending on unnecessary items and look for ways to save money, such as cooking your own meals or using public transportation. And be sure to keep track of your expenses throughout your trip, so you can adjust your budget as needed.

Stay connected with loved ones back home

Staying connected with loved ones back home is important to having a stress-free vacation. Make sure to let your friends and family know where you'll be staying and how to reach you in case of an emergency. And consider using social media or messaging apps to stay in touch and share updates during your trip.
Another important aspect of staying connected is to have a backup plan in case of any unforeseen events. This may include having a trusted friend or family member who can help with any emergencies or unexpected situations.

Embrace local culture and customs

Embracing local culture and customs is a great way to have a stress-free vacation. Take the time to learn about the local customs and traditions, and try to respect them during your trip. This may include learning a few phrases in the local language or trying the local cuisine.
Another great way to embrace local culture is to participate in local activities and events. This may include attending a cultural festival or visiting a historical landmark. By immersing yourself in the local culture, you'll gain a deeper appreciation for your destination and make lasting memories.

Relax and enjoy the journey

Finally, remember to relax and enjoy the journey. Traveling can be stressful, but it can also be a rewarding and enriching experience. Take the time to appreciate the sights, sounds, and experiences of your destination. And don't forget to take breaks and rest when needed. By staying relaxed and present, you'll be able to enjoy your trip to the fullest.

Conclusion

Traveling can be stressful, but with the right preparation and mindset, it can also be a stress-free and enjoyable experience. By planning ahead, choosing the right accommodations, packing light and smart, keeping important documents and valuables safe, staying hydrated and healthy, making a budget and sticking to it, staying connected with loved ones back home, embracing local culture and customs, and relaxing and enjoying the journey, you can make your next vacation a stress-free and unforgettable experience. So go ahead, book that trip and get ready to embark on the adventure of a lifetime!
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My neighbor, Henry Johnson, would be out of town for two weeks. His wife had just left him, and he needed to clear his head. So he asked me to house sit. As a broke college student, I said yes.
The housesitting duties included taking care of the Johnsons’ parrot—a 17-year-old African Grey named Snickers. I didn’t know much about birds, but he’d left me detailed instructions on how to take care of her.
The first night of my job, I decided to stay for a few hours. I needed to get a problem set done, and the Johnsons’ large, empty house was the perfect study place. After feeding Snickers and giving her water, I got set up on the couch.
But it wasn’t long before she interrupted me.
“STOP!”
I whipped around. Snickers was standing on her perch, staring at me with one gray eye. “STOP! STOP!” she repeated.
Rolling my eyes, I went back to the problem set. Differential equations. Why did I decide to major in engineering, again? ! tapped my pencil against the page. Maybe it’s time for another snack break.
“STOP, OH GOD, STOP.”
Snickers was bouncing from one perch to the other, bobbing her head, as carefree as could be. But the way she said that sent shivers down my spine. She was clearly imitating someone in distress. Probably just repeating from a movie, I told myself.
But I was so, so wrong.
“STOP, OH GOD, STOP. HENRY, STOP.”
Henry.
That was his name. Henry Johnson.
I turned and stared at the parrot. She stared back at me and whistled a few times. And them she continued.
“STOP OH GOD STOP HENRY STOP OH GOD”
My blood turned to ice. I stared at the parrot, my heart hammering in my chest. What, exactly, happened here? What is she repeating?
I decided to call my parents. But they didn’t seem to share my level of concern. “Your Aunt Sheila had a parrot,” my dad said. “That thing would pick up all kinds of crazy words. Movies, phone conversations… it’d scream, say the f-word, everything. I wouldn’t worry, Abbi. Especially with Raquel leaving him and all… they probably had some huge fights the parrot picked up on. I wouldn’t be surprised if it got worse.”
And he was right. Over the course of the next hour, Snickers continued to repeat “stop” and “Henry,” but also said a variety of other things, from curses to pleasantries to movie quotes. “FUCK YOU.” “I’LL BE BACK.” “HOW ARE YOU TODAY?” “COMMENT ALLEZ-VOUS?”
Finally, around ten o’clock, I started getting ready to leave. Threw my notebook in my backpack, switched off the lights, and headed for the door. “Goodbye Snickers,” I called out into the darkness. Then I reached for the doorknob—
“PUT THE KNIFE DOWN.”
I froze in my tracks.
I couldn’t see Snickers anymore. But I could hear her, rustling about in her cage. Talons clacking against the metal rails, feathers flapping in the silence. Maybe she’s just quoting another movie. Maybe she’s—
“PUT THE KNIFE DOWN HENRY,” the bird repeated.
My heart dropped.
“STOP OH GOD STOP OH GOD.”
Snickers was agitated. I could hear her feathers hitting the metal rails of her cage as she flapped her wings. Thunk—she hopped back and forth, perch to perch, as she clicked her beak erratically.
“STOP OH GOD STOP.”
I stood there for a long time. Seconds stretched into minutes. But she didn’t say anything more. Just clicked and whistled and flapped around in her cage.
I flicked the lights back on, dropped my backpack on the floor, and made a beeline for the Johnsons’ bedroom.
Henry was very clear with his instructions. I wasn’t supposed to enter any of the bedrooms or the basement. I was supposed to stay on the main level, no matter what.
But I climbed the stairs anyway. After looking around, I found their bedroom. It was neat and tidy, the burgundy bedspread laying smoothly over the mattress. I walked around, my heart hammering, hoping what I was imagining wasn’t true.
But it was.
Because in their closet, I found a small box. A small box containing Raquel Johnson’s wallet… and drivers license.
I made my way back down the stairs, my legs shaking. Snickers looked at me curiously from her cage. I turned out the lights, locked the door, and hurried down the sidewalk. As soon as I get home, I’m calling the cops. As soon as I—
Ping.
I pulled out my phone to see a text.
From Henry Johnson.
I asked you not to enter the bedroom.
I whipped around. But the dark sidewalk extended behind me, totally empty. How did he… Oh. A camera. Of course. I broke into a run towards my parents’ house, at the corner. Almost there—
Ping.
I know what you saw.
I sprinted harder, faster. My feet slapped against the pavement. Almost there—
Ping.
I didn’t pull out my phone. Didn’t stop until I was locked safely in my parents’ house. Then, finally, I read the text that he sent.
If you tell anyone else, you will pay.
***
I didn’t listen. I called the police. And after a thorough search of his house, they found something horrible.
Raquel’s body, in the freezer in the basement.
Henry was trying to flee town, but get a head start by making it look like he was just going on vacation. So he hired me to housesit. I don’t think he realized Snickers might repeat what she heard that night.
And sometimes, I wonder, if Snickers knew more than she let on. Because, apparently, she was Raquel’s pet. From before they were even married.
Maybe she wasn’t mindlessly repeating.
Maybe she was trying to get justice for Raquel.

I can’t compare it to other Zelda games because I’ve only played spirit tracks as a kid, and even then I didn’t finish it and just rode the trains lol.
But the temple was so fun, and I didn’t get as confused as the other ones. There was certain times I needed to look up a tutorial & it made me realize I never activated the first marker (kept giving me an x when I did it before lol) and was already halfway through. I got confused when riju wasn’t following me…but I really liked it.
I was afraid of the Queen and she got me once, but I stayed in the lights which was majorly helpful! Sand boots would’ve been great too bc running away from the tornadoes was hard lol. I just love the layout of the temple

My neighbor, Henry Johnson, would be out of town for two weeks. His wife had just left him, and he needed to clear his head. So he asked me to house sit. As a broke college student, I said yes.
The housesitting duties included taking care of the Johnsons’ parrot—a 17-year-old African Grey named Snickers. I didn’t know much about birds, but he’d left me detailed instructions on how to take care of her.
The first night of my job, I decided to stay for a few hours. I needed to get a problem set done, and the Johnsons’ large, empty house was the perfect study place. After feeding Snickers and giving her water, I got set up on the couch.
But it wasn’t long before she interrupted me.
“STOP!”
I whipped around. Snickers was standing on her perch, staring at me with one gray eye. “STOP! STOP!” she repeated.
Rolling my eyes, I went back to the problem set. Differential equations. Why did I decide to major in engineering, again? ! tapped my pencil against the page. Maybe it’s time for another snack break.
“STOP, OH GOD, STOP.”
Snickers was bouncing from one perch to the other, bobbing her head, as carefree as could be. But the way she said that sent shivers down my spine. She was clearly imitating someone in distress. Probably just repeating from a movie, I told myself.
But I was so, so wrong.
“STOP, OH GOD, STOP. HENRY, STOP.”
Henry.
That was his name. Henry Johnson.
I turned and stared at the parrot. She stared back at me and whistled a few times. And them she continued.
“STOP OH GOD STOP HENRY STOP OH GOD”
My blood turned to ice. I stared at the parrot, my heart hammering in my chest. What, exactly, happened here? What is she repeating?
I decided to call my parents. But they didn’t seem to share my level of concern. “Your Aunt Sheila had a parrot,” my dad said. “That thing would pick up all kinds of crazy words. Movies, phone conversations… it’d scream, say the f-word, everything. I wouldn’t worry, Abbi. Especially with Raquel leaving him and all… they probably had some huge fights the parrot picked up on. I wouldn’t be surprised if it got worse.”
And he was right. Over the course of the next hour, Snickers continued to repeat “stop” and “Henry,” but also said a variety of other things, from curses to pleasantries to movie quotes. “FUCK YOU.” “I’LL BE BACK.” “HOW ARE YOU TODAY?” “COMMENT ALLEZ-VOUS?”
Finally, around ten o’clock, I started getting ready to leave. Threw my notebook in my backpack, switched off the lights, and headed for the door. “Goodbye Snickers,” I called out into the darkness. Then I reached for the doorknob—
“PUT THE KNIFE DOWN.”
I froze in my tracks.
I couldn’t see Snickers anymore. But I could hear her, rustling about in her cage. Talons clacking against the metal rails, feathers flapping in the silence. Maybe she’s just quoting another movie. Maybe she’s—
“PUT THE KNIFE DOWN HENRY,” the bird repeated.
My heart dropped.
“STOP OH GOD STOP OH GOD.”
Snickers was agitated. I could hear her feathers hitting the metal rails of her cage as she flapped her wings. Thunk—she hopped back and forth, perch to perch, as she clicked her beak erratically.
“STOP OH GOD STOP.”
I stood there for a long time. Seconds stretched into minutes. But she didn’t say anything more. Just clicked and whistled and flapped around in her cage.
I flicked the lights back on, dropped my backpack on the floor, and made a beeline for the Johnsons’ bedroom.
Henry was very clear with his instructions. I wasn’t supposed to enter any of the bedrooms or the basement. I was supposed to stay on the main level, no matter what.
But I climbed the stairs anyway. After looking around, I found their bedroom. It was neat and tidy, the burgundy bedspread laying smoothly over the mattress. I walked around, my heart hammering, hoping what I was imagining wasn’t true.
But it was.
Because in their closet, I found a small box. A small box containing Raquel Johnson’s wallet… and drivers license.
I made my way back down the stairs, my legs shaking. Snickers looked at me curiously from her cage. I turned out the lights, locked the door, and hurried down the sidewalk. As soon as I get home, I’m calling the cops. As soon as I—
Ping.
I pulled out my phone to see a text.
From Henry Johnson.
I asked you not to enter the bedroom.
I whipped around. But the dark sidewalk extended behind me, totally empty. How did he… Oh. A camera. Of course. I broke into a run towards my parents’ house, at the corner. Almost there—
Ping.
I know what you saw.
I sprinted harder, faster. My feet slapped against the pavement. Almost there—
Ping.
I didn’t pull out my phone. Didn’t stop until I was locked safely in my parents’ house. Then, finally, I read the text that he sent.
If you tell anyone else, you will pay.
***
I didn’t listen. I called the police. And after a thorough search of his house, they found something horrible.
Raquel’s body, in the freezer in the basement.
Henry was trying to flee town, but get a head start by making it look like he was just going on vacation. So he hired me to housesit. I don’t think he realized Snickers might repeat what she heard that night.
And sometimes, I wonder, if Snickers knew more than she let on. Because, apparently, she was Raquel’s pet. From before they were even married.
Maybe she wasn’t mindlessly repeating.
Maybe she was trying to get justice for Raquel.

Blackwater Bay. 200 AC OST - See the Fire in Your Eyes (Moving Camps) Hymnal
Willem stood on the rocky shores, his weary eyes fixated on the devastating aftermath that lay before him. The acrid stench of burnt flesh mingled with the briny scent of the sea, assaulting his senses and leaving an indelible mark upon his weary soul. The once pristine waters, now tainted with the remnants of a great battle, lapped ominously against the scarred shoreline. The morning mist cloaked the beach, lending an eerie ambiance to the desolation that stretched as far as his aged eyes could see. Swollen and charred corpses dotted the shore, their broken forms a grotesque tapestry of twisted limbs and contorted expressions frozen in eternal agony. Each lifeless body told a tale of valor and despair, of dreams cut short and promises unfulfilled.
Amongst the fallen, Willem's gaze fell upon a young soldier, barely a man, his visage marred by the cruel hand of war. A splintered beam lay upon him, wrapped in the fraying salted ropes of rigging. He had a rusting bit of armor on. It likely was polished before his doom. This boy was a knight. The knight's eyes, once filled with hope and determination, stared lifelessly into the endless expanse of the heavens above. Willem felt a pang of sorrow deep within his chest.
"I do not believe that she has condemned us to destruction."
A mournful wind whispered through the rigging and ropes strewn across the beach, a haunting chorus that accompanied the tragic tableau. On the wind he heard Ser Ilyn Crakehall's reply. Every face he looked upon, swollen and charred, every lightless eye. The remnants of destroyed ships, mere fragments of their former glory, served as a solemn reminder of the carnage that had taken place upon the waters. The sea, once a source of life and sustenance, now offered naught but a final resting place for the fallen, claiming their battered forms as its own. The surf and tide were awash with the aftermath.
As Willem treaded along the shoreline, his weathered boots sinking into the sand, he couldn't help but reflect upon his own life. His once unyielding sense of honor had been tarnished by the relentless march of time, battles fought and comrades lost. Deeds done. The weight of regret settled upon his weary shoulders, his footsteps echoing with a melancholic cadence.
He had unironically warned a member of the Kingsguard of the impending destruction, a dire premonition that had fallen upon deaf ears. The bitterness of that moment still lingered, a bitter taste upon his tongue. Willem had seen the fire in his dreams, and had felt the impending doom like a weight upon his very soul, and yet his warnings had been dismissed as the ramblings of an old knight lost in his own sorrow.
Now, as he walked amidst the aftermath, Willem couldn't help but feel a sense of futility. The battles fought and lives lost seemed but a tragic cycle, an unending dance of death and despair. Yet, amidst the ashes souls, timber, sail, and fallen heroes, a flicker of purpose ignited within his weathered heart. He would not let his tarnished honor define his final days. Perhaps, in this desolate landscape of broken dreams, he could find redemption, a chance to restore a glimmer of hope in a world consumed by darkness.
With each step, Willem carried the weight of the fallen upon his shoulders, their unfulfilled dreams and shattered lives etched deep within his soul. The somber melody of his footsteps, accompanied by the mournful dirge of the wind, became a requiem for the fallen, a testament to the fragility of life and the indomitable spirit that resided within the human heart.
The sun began to pierce through the heavy clouds, casting its feeble light upon the battlefield of land and sea, Willem raised his gaze. He would not falter in the face of despair . He would honor the fallen, fight for the dreams that had been lost, and see the fire in his own eyes once more.
As Willem continued his solemn march along the shore, he became aware of a somber congregation of smallfolk. Their presence was a stark reminder that the devastation wrought by war extended far beyond the fallen warriors and into the lives of the innocent. Scavengers, driven by desperation and survival, scoured the wreckage for any semblance of value, their actions a heartbreaking testament to the harsh realities of a world torn asunder. Some scavengers, their faces etched with weariness and sorrow, delicately pulled the lifeless bodies from the tangled flotsam and shattered remnants of once-proud ships. Their hands moved with a reverence born of necessity, for even in death, these fallen souls deserved a modicum of dignity. It was a bittersweet sight, as the scavengers toiled, both driven by the instinct to survive and burdened by the weight of their macabre task.
But amidst the scavengers, Willem's gaze settled upon a group of holyfolk, figures draped in somber robes that denoted their sacred calling. The Silent Sisters, their veiled faces concealing both their grief and their dedication, moved with solemn grace. They tended to the fallen, preparing them for their final journey, cleansing their bodies, and whispering prayers for their departed souls.
Nearby, septas and septons stood in prayerful contemplation, their voices carrying the weight of solace and hope. They offered words of comfort to those gathered, soothing the wounds of loss and lending strength to the weary hearts of the bereaved. The solemnity of their presence added a touch of divinity to the desolate shore, reminding all who witnessed their devotion that even in the darkest of times, faith could still be found.
Willem approached the holyfolk. He watched as they carefully arranged the lifeless bodies upon wooden pyres, creating a solemn assembly of kindling for the flames of farewell. The scent of incense mingled with the acrid remnants of battle, offering a brief respite from the harsh realities that surrounded them.
Moved by a sense of duty and the remnants of his tarnished honor, Willem approached one of the holyfolk, his voice low and filled with quiet resolve. "How may I assist you in this solemn task, sister?" he asked, his weary eyes meeting hers with a flicker of recognition, but then determination.
The sister, her eyes lined with sorrow, offered a faint smile of gratitude. "Your presence alone is a comfort, good knight," she replied, her voice laden with weariness and resilience. "If you would lend a hand in preparing the pyres, it would be a kindness to both the fallen and those left behind." She spoke quickly, but her voice was kept low - reverence was key here.
And so, Willem joined the holyfolk, his weathered hands embracing the weighty responsibility of bidding farewell to the fallen. Together, they placed the bodies upon the pyres, their movements guided by a delicate balance of reverence and practicality. The flickering light of the approaching flames danced upon their faces, a gentle caress of warmth that seemed to offer solace even in the face of tragedy.
Pyres were set ablaze and Willem felt a profound sense of purpose fill his weary heart. He had not witnessed the battle upon the bay, but in this solemn moment, amidst the scavengers and the holyfolk, he became an unwitting witness to the aftermath, a bearer of witness to the cost of war. And in this act of service, he found a flicker of redemption for his tarnished honor, a chance to ease the suffering of others and breathe life into the embers of hope that still glimmered within him.
Together, they stood, smallfolk and knight, united in their shared sorrow and the collective determination to honor the fallen. As the smoke rose skyward, carrying the souls of the departed to realms unknown, Willem's gaze remained fixed upon the flames, his heart heavy with the weight of the fallen and the resolute desire to see the fire in their eyes burn bright once more.

Here's the pitch. It's very much a work in progress. This is the intended setting for this tabletop RPG: https://www.reddit.com/RPGcreation/comments/13v5iw4/does_this_sound_in_any_way_promising_or_does_it/
The Old World
The truth is, no one remembers much about the old world. People have recorded dreams, visions, and flickers of memory but no concrete picture emerges, just a sense of vastness that would swallow the new world whole. All anyone is sure of is that there was a world before and that much of the language and basic concepts came from that place. How those ideas truly fit together is a mystery.
​
The Breach
The Breach happened 273 year cycles ago. Something truly strange had happened, some event that cut the folk of Ghost Gasket off from the previous world. The memories are nearly as dim as the memories of the old world. Shifting chaos and strangeness and a fracturing of the known rules. Madness. Screaming. And then people woke up, finding themselves in Neo Victoria, a city built in a suspended bubble of glass that's harder than steel. And around the bubble, only an endless maze of airless pipes and tunnels.
​
Neo Victoria
A stack of blocks built by a child. A ramshackle collection of mismatched styles. Gilt and poverty are scattered with no discernable pattern. The City seems both familiar and strange to those who found themselves in it. There are baroque stone mansions, tenement buildings, factories, temples, and workhouses. Clockwork abounds. The city seems to function as a vast machine designed to support life in the claustrophobic emptiness of the Tunnels.
​
The city was stratified from the very beginning. Some found themselves seemingly in possession of vast wealth while others woke up in small shacks with leaky roofs. People picked up from the Breach as best as they could, trying to find a life in the new world.
​
Humans and Abhumans
Humans aren't the only denizen of the city. Altered humans known as Abhumans exist and seem to be a melding of "normal" humans and stranger lifeforms. They have unusual biologies and strange powers. There are five main types: Changelings, Dhampir, Werebeasts, Nephilim, and Warpspawn. They seem familiar as if they were created to be similar to myths of the old world, but no one is sure why some people woke up altered. Many people find Abhumans repellant, that they inspire hate and superstitious fear. Others see them as just another flavor person. Abhumans usually find themselves in the lower classes regardless of their origins after the breach. Society in general is often rigged against them, with the majority of normal humans controlling them through social rules and outright laws.
​
Old Herald
Old Herald lies at the very center of the city, an intricate clock tower. The awoken citizens built a whole new system and calendar based on the machinations of the tower. There are 50 seconds in a minute, 78 minutes in an hour, and two 13-hour shifts. The months consist of 23 days and the year cycle consists of 13 months. During the Day Shift, the city's lights come on and a drizzle of "rain" spills down from plumbing built into the top of Neo Victoria. At night, the lights and rain turn themselves off and darkness reigns. Work is done during Day Shift, with the various poor and working class toiling to build or farm the products needed by the city. The rich control the factories and universities, spending their time managing the flock or trying to puzzle out the mysteries of the New World.
​
The Tesseract Mall
The Tesseract Mall can be found below Old Herald. This ornate cube-shaped building is bigger on the inside than on the outside. It has become the de-facto marketplace for the city. Costermongers, hawkers, hucksters, merchants, and snake oil salesmen ply their wares.
​
Amorphotech - The New Science
As time has passed, the folk of New Victoria have begun to learn the rules of this world. The overall system of thought is called Amorphotech. Matter and energy behave in unusual ways. They have an inner essence that can be separated and distilled known as Amorpho. It is a kind of formless non-substance. Amorpho can, in turn, be transformed into new matter and energy, both the types familiar to Old World memory and new forms wholly unknown to that world.
​
Amorphotech takes two main forms: Alchemy and Amorphic Engineering. Alchemy deals with creating special substances out of Amorpho that have special properties. The known forms of Amorphic Matter are Phlogiston (amorphic gas), Alkahest (amorphic liquid), Manacite (amorphic stone), Orichalcum (amorphic metal), and Bio-Iliaster (an unusual substance that can meld with biological beings).
​
Amorphic Engineering is taking alchemical substances and building devices that take advantage of their properties: pipeships, rayguns, and stranger devices.
​
Sorcery - Words of Power
Amorpho can also be manipulated with True Speech, a kind of formulaic language that mixes word concepts with what's called Amorphic Math to create effects. These are called spells and rituals, simply because that's the closest thing New Victorians are familiar with.
​
True Speech can be inscribed on objects and charged with Amorpho to create Relics, magical objects with strange powers. Those who wish to use these activities must attune to them, letting the Amorpho in their bodies and minds flow into the objects and back to form a metaphysical circuit that allows them to use Relics.
​
The Tunnels - A Cosmic Sewer
There are airlocks built into New Victoria. People have been curious about them for some time but had no way to survive an exploration into The Tunnels, the name for the labyrinth outside of New Victoria. Gradually, techniques and technology for exploring beyond the glass emerged. Pipeships are flying ships created using Amorphotech, sealed from the void, and able to traverse the empty spaces of The Tunnels using burning Phlogiston for propulsion.
​
The Tunnels aren't as empty as they seem at first glance. Created artifacts and constructions have been found formed by some form of beings who once lived in the Tunnels but seemingly vanished. These beings have been named the Precursors. Other creatures and entities have been discovered, some hostile, some mere animals, and others so strange that their mere presence is dangerous. There are even gardens and forests nestled within the pipes, made of plants, fungi, and more unusual sessile lifeforms.
​
The Precursor Civilizations
The Precursors don't seem to have been human at all. Sentient, certainly, but the things they left behind seem to be built by alien minds. Many people believe they created The Tunnels and New Victoria, that they are indeed responsible for the folk of the old world finding themselves here.
​
Much of what they created breaks conventional logic and even the new sciences of Amorphotech. They seemed to be able to warp time, space, flesh, and minds into wholly new forms.
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Cults and Faiths
Strange beliefs abound in New Victoria. Many have formed different faiths and philosophies based on the mysteries of this new world. There are three main faiths in New Victoria: the Universal Pipists, the Exit Seekers, and the Wall Burners.
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The Universal Pipists believe that there is nothing else but the pipes. That is, the Tunnels extend to infinity, a whole universe of pipes. The Exit Seekers, conversely, think there is something beyond, that an exit can be found out of the Tunnels entirely and into a whole other world or worlds that are much less constricted. The Wall Burners are an offshoot of the Exit Seekers. They believe that an exit will have to be built, that the walls of this universe will have to be breached in order to escape.
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Political Movements and Social Clubs
There are several other, more political philosophies that formed during the arguments over the years on how to run New Victoria. There are utopian socialists, merchant capitalists, conservative monarchists, technoccult fascists (who believe those who master Amorphotech should rule through authoritarianism), and amorpho-transcendental anarchists. That last group believes that advances in Amorphotech will discover whole new ways to organize society.
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Others have formed social clubs, ad-hoc organizations formed around some idea or hobby. There are detective clubs, journalism clubs, adventure societies, and amorphotech hobby clubs. These may have connections with other, larger factions in the city or they may be smaller, independent organizations.
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Finally, there are a few secret societies that are similar to social clubs, except that their membership is closed and hidden. The Hidden Lodge is the oldest. No one is sure what pursuits they engage in but there are rumors that they have ears in every quarter and that they infiltrated their members all over the city.
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Another secret society is the Raven's Wing, a criminal organization that controls most crime in the city, including illegal vices like drugs, gambling, and prostitution.
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The final secret society of note is the Toy Breakers, an anti-technology group that is seemingly behind several acts of sabotage, assassination, and other forms of terrorism meant to stop the proliferation of Amorphotech.

Previous
If I were to guess, I’d imagine they took Andrew to Boss Harold before anyone else and the rumors around Golgotha seemed to support this supposition; the Bosses enjoyed their personal retribution away from the eyes of citizens, maybe it was talking or maybe more, and although there were whispers of the boy being strung up on the wall or maybe he’d be violated in the stocks for all to see, I imagined that the council I held with Boss Harold might’ve had something to do with that never materializing. When I was allowed to the boy’s cell, it was dark, and his face was bruised and the bandaging I’d applied to his severed wrist had been removed probably for amusement. The room was small and there were no windows and only a single doorway let out into the hallway which contained other cells and further, near the exit, there was the office of wall men. The guard that’d let me in locked the door behind me and Andrew sat on a metallic cot without cushioning, and he stared at the grimy floor through swollen eyes.
“Hello,” he said. And I was taken aback by the comment because he spoke it as quickly as he might passing a person in the street. He'd been through so much that the word was abrupt, skittish. I nodded and moved to him, reaching for his arm where he’d been nearly fatally wounded. It was infected. Without fighting me, he allowed me to tend to it without even a question; I wiped it and applied salve. Once it was cleaned and rewrapped and only after I’d settled on the cot beside him, he spoke again, “I heard stories about the cells, but I never thought they’d smell.”
I withdrew a handful of antibiotics, and he took them without putting them to his mouth. “You should have them,” I said, “You might lose the whole arm if not.”
“I might lose my life.”
“Maybe not,” I offered a grim smile and water with for the pills. “You’re alive still.”
“How much longer though?” He took the medicine and grimaced hard. The boy looked older than he was. “It smells like blood here. I can smell the people that’ve been here before.”
I patted him on the back and removed myself from the cell and he did not call after me, not even to ask for the return of his hand and I hoped that I could stave off whatever tortures the Bosses might have in store for him.
It’d been two days since I’d returned with Dave and Andrew and quickly after our arrival, I’d tried departing from the man and hoped he’d drop whatever revenge he believed I could assist him with, but it was to no avail for he attended everywhere with me since our return to Golgotha. Although he’d not been allowed to enter the cells alongside me, he was waiting for me outside as I stepped through the wall men’s office and into the noonday sun; I deftly plucked a pre-rolled cigarette from my pocket and tried at lighting it but before I’d even gotten the chance, he was there at the stoop of the office, pestering, “We should go somewhere quiet,” he said.
“What do you take me for exactly?” I asked while maintaining eye contact with the flame off a match.
“You’re capable enough. You could be a hero. I’d do it with you. We could scrounge up a handful of people and change things. We really could.” Dave was casting sidelong glances at those that passed us in the dirt street just off the stoop, but nary one seemed to care about our conversation.
“Leave it.”
“I won’t.”
I sighed.
He put a hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off.
Felina’s was a structure partially built from ancient shipping containers directly in the heart of the hydroponics towers in the center of town; the chicken shit smell from the base of the towers came with nauseating stagnation and could make a passerby sick, but upon entering Felina’s, the smell subsided and was replaced with the smell of body sweat. The older barwoman stood behind the counter and me and Dave took up on the far corner where we sat around an old card table, using crates as chairs; no one else was there—the smell of the hydro towers probably had some hand in that.
Dave took in close to me so that I could feel the moisture off his breath, “I’ve been talking to a few others over at the towers and they feel the same way I feel—but with you—well without you I don’t think I’d want to do it.”
“No, please go on without me,” I slanted my body across the table to push my face away from Dave’s; with me positioned with my back against the wall, I spied Felina beyond the counter, arms across her chest and watching us with an air of suspicion. She came to our table, slowly with her club foot and upon reaching us, she used our table for mild support with her big hands and greeted us without excitement.
Dave asked for water and her gaze shifted to me and I dismissed her, and we were alone till she limped back over with a pitcher and glass and Dave drank it greedily while Felina watched on from beyond the counter—her eyes suspicious but pretty blue too. She kept the haft from a dismembered axe behind the counter and was known to throttle unruly patrons with it.
Although some might have called Felina’s a bar, it was just short of it because of the rarity of spirits—besides, it was the upstairs brothel portion that the establishment owed to its popularity. Anyone might brave the smell from the street for companionship and if the noises from the rusted overhead support beams were anything to measure, the clientele was content indeed. A man descended from the stairs by the bar, gave a brief nod to Felina then to us and disappeared through the front door; a waft of the outside air rushed in, and Dave scrunched his nose.
“It’s a funny thing, I’ve passed by here all the time, but I don’t think I’ve been inside since before—” he paused, “Well, since before anyway.” He took a drink of water and rubbed his palms against his cheeks. “I know someone that works underground and could get us some gunpowder.”
I merely laughed at this. “Gunpowder, huh?”
“Well sure. The Bosses have reserves in the basements. We could blow them sky high.”
“More likely that you’d blow your hands off.”
“What’s it going to take to convince you?”
I thought, “Could you promise no one would die?”
Dave seemed baffled at the question. “Who cares?”
“These things hardly ever happen quietly—or without collateral. How’s this? Could you promise that no innocents get caught in stray fire?”
“Yes.”
“Then you are as ill prepared as I’d imagined.”
“What’s that mean?”
“The meek are intended to inherit, but many will die before all that.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I wish you’d leave it be.”
Another patron stumbled down the stairs, a scrawny tall man with a thin beard came charging into the chamber without clothes and a voice followed him, crying loudly, “Sonofabitch tried choking me!” A pair of arms and legs came stumbling down after—the source of the cries. There was a topless woman, a belt secured around one of her wrists and a pink mark around her throat. The naked man protested and put up his hands as the woman swung the arm with the belt and whipped at him with it, striking across the forearm he’d shielded himself with.
Felina moved carefully from around the counter, raised the haft, then brought it down across the man’s back. He stumbled to his knees, pleading. The barwoman raised the weapon once more and the sound was like wood against wood as it met the man’s head and his body was taken to the ground completely, perhaps dead, perhaps unconscious. The two women lifted the man out the door and Felina spat through the opening. Outside wind came again and Dave scrunched his nose once more before the door shut. The topless woman removed the belt from around her wrist, tossed it to the floor, then secured an arm across her chest before hurrying upstairs.
“So, gunpowder?” I asked Dave.
He nodded and took another drink of water while eyeing Felina as she took herself back to the counter and stowed the makeshift club into whatever place she kept it. “Yeah.”
“Go for it then and leave me out of it.” I fiddled with my thumbs across the table. “I’ll even make you a deal for when you come running to me for help later. If you blow your fingers off, I’ll try and help you find them. How’s about that?”
“I’ll wear you down.”
Another gust of wind came from the far door and I half expected to see the man that’d been removed there in the doorway, standing on his feet and ready for another round of punishment, but there was no one there in the hollow spot; as my gaze drifted from person-face level, I saw a medium sized mutt there in gray fur, pushing the door in with its nose and then sliding the rest of its starved body through—each of its yellowy sad eyes peered in and I could not tell the breed but Dave lifted himself from his seat and Felina went to the dog too.
“No dogs,” stated the woman.
Dave, the indomitable sweetheart that he was knelt to the dog’s face and touched its snout; it licked his hand and Dave said to Felina, “He’s not mine, but have you got some water for him?”
“No dogs inside. I don’t like repeating it.”
“Fair enough,” said Dave, “I don’t know who he—” he froze and then examined the rear of the dog before petting the dog on the head, “She belongs to, but I’ll take her outside. Just. Please some water, won’t you?”
The barwoman first drummed her fingers against her leg then went to the counter and I noticed Dave flinch as she reached under there, but she came back with a bowl and he took it and ushered the dog out; as he exited, he called to me, and I sighed and moved with him.
Remaining in the street was the man that’d been tossed out, face up, half-opened eyes, and flies buzzed about, and I touched him with my foot, but he didn’t move. Blood leaked from his ears. “Dead,” I said.
Dave took the dog from the body around to the side of the building and the feces smell was strong with the hydro towers, but he sat the water down and the dog went at it quickly, without restraint and spilt half before the man went to steady it with his hand; he knelt by the dog and pushed a shoulder against the wall of the brothel.
“There you go,” I told him, “You’ve found someone dumb enough and maybe loyal enough to follow through with your little gunpowder plan. Strap a handful of dynamite to him and watch him go boom in the Boss’s faces.” I genuinely did try it as a joke.
“You can be very mean,” said Dave.
Once the bowl was dry besides dog spit, he returned it to Felina, reentering briefly, and it was just me and the dog and the dog looked up at me and I turned away while its voice whined in the back of its throat and I took a piece of hardtack from my pocket and tossed it on the ground—the dog went after it, assuredly snapping up dirt in the process. Then the creature made a dry and throaty sound from swallowing too quickly, but moments after the thick cracker was gone. It licked my hand gently, and I scratched its chin and Dave returned and upon seeing me with the dog, he gave me a look and then brought himself to the height of the dog in a hunker.
“Hey there,” he said to it, “Someone’s beat you up pretty bad, huh?” It was true; scars stood out in places where the dog had no fur.
In response, the weathered mutt hoisted its forepaws onto his knees and pushed its nose into his.
“Yeah, girl,” he took one of the dog’s ears between his forefinger and thumb and rubbed it gently and the animal looked up, sad eyed, “What’s a good name for you?”
“Dog-meat?” I proposed.
Dave shook his head. “What sort of sick joke is that?” but he was smiling, “No. I’ll come up with something to call her. Isn’t that right?” He asked the dog, massaging the face of the animal with his thumbs; the dog stared dumbly at him. “Maybe a Beth or a Patty might suit you. How do you like them?”
The dog licked his face but couldn’t speak.
“Well,” I said, “It’s a shame it got you, you’ll pick a person name for it and that’s strange. Why not call her Mary if you want a person name?”
“Bah,” said Dave, rising to a full stand; momentarily, even with the other folks passing us in the street, he took a moment to see the dead man we’d passed on our way out of Felina’s and for a moment he remained quiet. “I’ll come to you again Harlan. Maybe when I’ve got more of a plan. I only hope you’ll listen to the stuff I’ve said about it. I really do. I really hope you’ll be on the right side of this thing.”
“Sides are overrated.”
Dave put a hand on my shoulder, “Of course,” he nodded, “Whatever you say.”
He left with his new friend—the dog following him traced from left to right close behind Dave and I watched him take off and around the nearest hydro tower and I was alone on the street and evening wouldn’t be far away, so I took to home while staring at my moving feet and speaking to no one. A few people along the way tried nodding at me or saying a small greeting here or there, but I was absorbed in my own head, and nothing took me from it once I got going. Maybe that was one of the reasons I enjoyed the wastes; there were no pretenses out there and with the constant thought of death there was no other thing to think about than each passing moment. I could not shut my thoughts up. I could ramble more about the motivations of a scavver, but I don’t think I should—leave that for someone that cares.
Upon taking the catwalks where I could look out on a swatch of Golgotha with the sun beating down and the constant hum of people going about their business, I was frozen on the railing and wishing I’d taken my own life and wishing that Dave had not found me out there; maybe if I was faster or smarter or better in whatever way that mattered.
I pushed into the door into my small abode and cool blood pushed through my body on seeing the robed girl there on my mattress, holding a shotgun with its barrel angled directly at me; she donned a flowy mess of dresses and kept her head wrapped in garb so that only her eyes shone through, but her arms stuck from the mess of cloth and I could see they were skinny with long scab marks like a blade had drawn across the flesh.
“Harlan?” asked the girl.
“Is that mine?” I nodded at the pump-shotgun in her hands. The slowness of the world was gone, and I could think again; if things were different, I’d have been a dead man, but it was unloaded, and I knew it.
“It was hanging on the wall—I don’t know how to use the thing anyway. I don’t know what I was doing with it,” she said, “You just scared me, and I didn’t know who you might’ve been.”
“This is my place.”
She laid the shotgun on the bed and unwrapped her face; it was Gemma, “You were with Andrew.”
“I was.”
“You said he was dead.”
I brought in air slowly through my nose. “I did.”
“You lied.”
I nodded, letting the air come out.
“Why?”
“I needed to find you.”
“But you found us both then, I guess.”
“Not on purpose.” A thought occurred to me, “Does you father know where you are right now?”
She shook her head; although rest had done her good, there was still a fair amount of fatigue present on her. “I snuck out.”
“Would’a though you learned your lesson on that front.”
“Is Andrew okay? No one will tell me anything about it.”
“He’s locked up right now, but he is alive. For how long? I don’t know. I figured your pop paid a visit to him already—wouldn’t you know about that?”
She shook her head again. “Woo,” Gemma slumped onto the side of my mattress and gathered the robes around her, “I’m feeling faint.”
I moved to the bed and gathered the shotgun, putting it back on the hooks in the wall. “You shouldn’t break into people’s homes.”
Cupping her brow in a hand so that I could only see her mouth and the bottom of her nose, she said, “I just needed to know he was alive. These past days I’ve been so worried about him. I knew you told me he was dead, but I knew you were a liar too. So, I had bad thoughts about what might’ve happened to him out there. If what happened to me was anything to go off.” Her voice broke for a moment and then she pulled her hand from her face and blinked a few sudden times. “I just.”
“I get it. You love the boy.”
She nodded without looking at me.
“So, beg your dad to let him go.”
“Everyone’s so mad at him. It’s funny that everyone’s so mad at him, but it was my idea, and they all treat me like a darling little flower. Like I couldn’t have been the one with the idea of running away. I had more reason to run than he ever did.”
“You should leave.”
“I don’t want to. Can’t you see that’s what I’ve been saying? Judge all you like. Call me rich all you like, but I can tell you this: I don’t feel like it.” Gemma grabbed the edge of the bed as her head wavered on her shoulders. “Dizzy spells are awful.” She shook her head. “Like no sickness ever.” Her eyes locked on mine. “Help me.”
“I’ve already tried convincing them not to kill him.” Taking a pause, I thought to add, “And I personally saw to his injuries. Please go and leave me be.”
“Oh, but you’ve asked for it,” she said, “You put yourself in the business of it.”
“Look. All’s I wanted was to save you if I could and get the water running again. That’s it. Now go.” I put my arm up to wave her out the door and she stood to make her way there, catching herself on the frame, then out on the catwalk railing before turning and looking at me over her shoulder.
“Bastard.” she said.
“Yes.” The door shut between us, and I took myself to sitting on the bed’s edge and reminiscing over how Dave reminded me so much of Jackson. Jackson was a real tough one; whatever happened he always kept a cool head (so I reckon him and Dave would be different in that way) and the idea of being a hero was so big for him. It’s a curious thought: whether Dave would have such ideas if hadn’t been for the tragic loss of his family.
The shotgun sat on there on the wall, and I took it and looked over it, putting the stock in my left hand then my right and laid it across my legs; the woven strap on it had gone thin so that the place I’d once worn it over my shoulder was mostly threadbare. I moved to the cabinet by the sink where I kept a few essentials and in the very back there was an old box of shells—it was a surprise they still seemed good, but with old ammo you never could tell, and the shells were just as likely to fire true as they might be to never send pellets from the barrel. I took a knife and began whittling into a shell I’d plucked from the box. Pellets spilled between my feet as I sat on the bed and they rolled across the floor and then I found the gunpowder and rose again, sprinkling it onto the cabinet top into a neat pile. Dave said he had a fella’ he knew that worked in the underground—the sort of person that could get him all the gunpowder he needed. Was he familiar with its destructive force; had he ever fired a gun? He promised me no one innocent would die and I knew that was a lie and there’s surely a piece of him that knew it was a lie just as well.
It was just then as I took a forefinger and thumb and pinched up a bit from the gunpowder splat that I remembered a thing that Jackson told me all the time when he thought none of the others were listening. The gunpowder rained from my fingertips as I rubbed them together and I sniffed the place where they’d become sooty, taking in a smell I’d not smelled in a long time. Jackson would say, “Whoever fights monsters should be sure that he don’t become a monster.” It wouldn’t be for a long time—after I’d visited the libraries in Alexandria or Babylon (take your preference)—till I realized it was a quote that Jackson stole from some guy named Neet-chee. It seemed like a good thing to adhere to, and it was certainly something I wasn’t good at keeping with and if I couldn’t then there was little certainty that Dave would keep to it either. Maybe I had become a monster; morally dubious anyway.
Jackson was a hero, and he was dead as was Sibylle as was Billy as was John and all of them. We’d tried heroing and it got all of us dead. Almost all of us.
I hung the shotgun on the wall and left it there and swept the gunpowder into the floor with a flat palm where the pellets were and chucked the box of old shells into the cabinet again.
Ringing of bells came from the hall of the Bosses and it was time for a display. Denizens gathered in the front square by the gates and awaited while they trotted out Andrew; perhaps the words I’d passed to Boss Harold rang hollow after all. The Bosses were there just as always, drinking their wine on the platform, and Maron was out front with his wall men in the semicircle of gathered Golgotha residents. Of the population, only a hundred or two gathered for this poor boy’s execution. The guards had, at some point after my departure, removed the bandage on his empty wrist and he looked more sickly in the face than before and his cheeks were swollen and he wept, seemingly not from the terror of it but from the skin around his eyes having been so damaged; tears came through swelled eyelids and a wall man kept him by the elbow and Maron marched to the boy and lifted the boy’s face with his hand to look into it and maybe he whispered something to him.
I weaved through the crowd, moving to the steps that led to the stage where the Bosses stood with their foods and wines and their plenty and upon approach, I was stopped by a wall men, but upon catching Boss Harold’s eye, he told the guard to let me through and I took the stairs and from the platform, I could see over the crowd—Dave was far in the rear of those gathered, totally disconnected from the others for he hunkered by a set of crates, patting the head of the dog we’d found just earlier in the day. For a moment, I wished I was there with him and not on the stage at all.
“Dear boy!” Boss Harold shouted at me over the excited jeers of the others, “It’s so good to see you again. You are quite the hero, and it’s always good to be in the company of those.”
I nodded at him and within a flash, he’d slammed his cup of wine into my hand, telling me to drink, and only moments passed before his own cup was replaced by a nearby servant. “We spoke about this?” I tried.
His face was red, and I could just make out the miniscule veins vibrant along the corners of his nose; the man was far gone drunk. “That boy’s been a thorn in my side for too long, so I know you understand it when I say that he needs punishment. I took all that you said into account,” his words slurred, and the sweet sick came off him in a breath of hot air when he pulled me in, resting his ear on my shoulder. “Nobody dies today, but ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’,” the Boss paused. “You’re not a father yourself, are you?”
I shook my head.
“Ah! Then you might not be familiar with that proverb required in bringing a child up in this world.” Boss Harold laughed. “I’d never take my sweet Gemma out in the square like this, but God there’s been times I’ve wanted it. ‘Spare the rod’.” He repeated. “But we’ve something a fair bit more interesting than a rod for that boy.” Boss Harold swayed on his feet and took the fist containing his cup of wine, pointing with his index finger at the open place by the wall where Maron and Andrew and the wall men were. “Speaking of!” Boss Harold was giddy, and he took a magnificent gulp from his cup, throwing his head far back. “You’re a learned man, yes?”
“What?”
“You know how to read? Maron said something about your reading. That’s a rare quality! I’d love to talk about books with you sometime. I’ve my own personal collection.”
The wall men stripped Andrew of his clothes then threw them to the ground and a gasp escaped the audience and the boy shouted and Maron moved to a nearby bucket and reached into the mouth of the container, coming back to a full stand; a whip was coiled around his arm. The Bosses didn’t even look on. The punishment was for the benefit of Boss Harold, and not even he looked on. He jabbered on about how he’d like to speak with me over an old philosophy called Objectivism then he went on about how he’d learned long ago the greatest achievement of man was his own happiness and I listened to the drunk man and when the whip broke skin the first time, I’m sure Andrew felt every bit.
Blood exploded in violent dew off his back and the crack of the whip struck the boy till he couldn’t stand and then several times more. Splatter reached onlookers each time Maron lifted the whip over his head, and it was only once the boy stopped moving that the Boss Sheriff swaggered over to inspect him; Andrew had fallen face down and Maron took his boot to the boy’s side so that the boy rolled onto his back and seconds passed without movement and even Boss Harold quit with his talking. The prone body just lay there and for a moment Andrew looked like the body I’d seen earlier out front of Felina’s. Then the boy spasmed and gasped air and Maron shouted about how he was still alive before giving the toe of his boot to Andrew’s ribs.
“What a show,” said the Bosses—what a show indeed.
The crowd dispersed in clumps, taking back to their jobs or leisure and I left the platform only after agreeing that Objectivism sounded good and Boss Harold laughed and stumbled in pivoting to take on in conversation with the other Bosses and I briefly imagined giving him a nudge, so he’d fall off the stage, but refrained from doing so.
When I met the boy lying in the dirt there, there was me and Dave moved in too and Maron had taken to his station where there was a table by sandbags, and he was engrossed in a game of solitaire; it seemed the man was totally unfazed by the justice he’d dealt. There was a time when that body could’ve been a hero and yet there he was, poisoned.
I called out to the Boss Sheriff, “Ain’t you going to put him back to his cell?”
Without even looking over, Maron swept his mustache with his fingers and waved me off, “Harold was real clear on letting the boy out of custody once it was done.” He lifted his cowboy hat and scratched his head while looking at the cards on the table then he laughed. “He’s a free man. I’ve heard that was your meddlin’ that did it.”
I moved to the boy and snatched up the clothes they ripped from him and Dave, not saying a word with his new mutt by his side, helped me to return some dignity to the boy.
We took him to my small apartment and washed him and tended over him while he lay in my bed.
Gemma came soon after Andrew had been draped in a sheet—she was there in disguise as she’d been earlier and upon me opening the doorway, she began to ask me if the boy was with me. I merely stepped aside, and she rushed to Andrew’s side; if he was aware of her presence, there was no way to tell.
“They killed him.” She’d taken to her knees to be nearer his level. “Oh. Oh, he’s dead.” She touched him and he shivered at the touch. Gemma removed the wrappings of cloth around her head and looked at her sweetie closer and she put a hand to her mouth. “They took his hand!”
“No,” said Dave, “He’s going to live.” The man looked to me and I shrugged. “Yeah,” his voice didn’t sound sure, “He’ll live.”
I moved to the catwalk and Dave came with me, the dog following behind him—the timid mutt looked over the edge of the catwalk to the city below then stepped away and returned to my room. When Dave took up beside me, leaning over the railing, and the sun hit his face just so, he looked exactly like Jackson and maybe that was why when he raised eyebrows then cut his eyes at me with a question—the question was everything and I finally nodded.
Previous
RoyalRoad
Neovel

24f, 130ish lbs, no smoking, no drinking.
Seroquel 25mg, Wellbutrin 150mg daily.
Long history of mental health issues, horrific anxiety, all the fun stuff.
It’s been a bad (traumatic, and I don’t use that word lightly) night. I’ve cried so hard I’ve vomited.
I’m finally “settled”, and I’m shaking near-uncontrollably. I have sharp pain in my left chest that’s radiating down my left arm, I’m nauseous, and my fingertips are slowly going numb.
I know this is anxiety. I know this is a result of emotions and everything that’s happened tonight. I know this has happened to me before and I’ve never not survived it.
I know, I know, and I know.
But please tell me I’m not dying so I can rest.
Thank you

Today's the day. I'm new here but, I'm going to try my best to get this out, as I have been browsing this thread for a few weeks now yet, have been exmo for approximately 15 years. I have been aware of reddit for some time and would some times listen to reddit comps on YT. I knew that based off of how deep I have delved into certain rabbit holes that I would one day end up here. To read mainly, but today, I have decided to write.
I grew up near the Sacred Grove in Palmyra, NY. I have been to all of the sights there, maybe 2-4 times some of them. The 'grove', I recall taking some nature walk at about the age of what they would call Activity Days, back then it was called Achievement Days. I have been into that temple at least once (twice I think) to perform baptisms for the dead. My life story need be some background no matter how I try to swing it. My biological parents were separated before I was born after having served time in England, in the U.S. Air Force. Father back down South, Mom to upstate NY. They were both relocated to their home states and though my father never stepped foot in NY, he would soon be deemed an 'Abandoned parent' by NY law and granted limited access to any info. about me, his daughter. My mom began lessons with the elders and soon had met the man I call my Dad when I was about six months old at which point she started lessons over again so that he could also hear the word of the decided true Church of God. After a temple marriage, a reception in our gym with plenty of nevermo family/ friends and secular music on the playlist, a sister 4 years my junior and a brother 6 years my junior, my parents split around the time I was 7. I recall peeping out of some crystal glass next to our front door on a Sunday after church and finding, my mom, who had been a prominent member of the Relief Society, was smoking a cigarette on the front steps. Not long after they divorced, she left the church, ended up with someone else for 9 years and the rest is history. Dad however, would later date and end up on LDS singles where he would remarry to a woman who would eventually take us out to Utah where we would meet much of her generational family members and go to plenty of places around SLC, Jordan, Ogden, Logan, etc., you name it, for different family reunions, baptisms, church services, sight seeing in Temple square, etc. The woman and my Dad would seek marriage counseling from a bishop, a very old friend of my Dad who had served in bishopric together. (My Dad has served as first/second counselor). He would one day end up leaving his wife of say, 35 years and making time to spend with my dad's wife he had brought around from out-of-state and had in our family approximately 2yrs at that point. The bishop and my ex-stepmother would be tried in front of the stake president and excommunicated. My Dad was in extremely rough shape at the time to put it lightly and the bishop's ex wife, a friend of the family, looked sickly every time I would see her for weeks, constantly sobbing, as well as not receiving sacrament for whatever reason they saw her needing to be further punished. Sick. I have plenty more but, this seems a great mess to start with. I am 27, I left almost 13. However, I did occasionally attend Young Woman's well after I had left. I went on a spiritual journey. Seeking answers in many forms as many do. Delving into Christianity, atheism, agnosticism, world religions, spirit science, and ultimately referring to myself as an intensely curious, devote Pantheist. I have a little one of my own with a lot of questions to answer about God and Jesus. I'm learning to just roll with the punches. We focus on gratitude largely, and Karma, I'd say. Here I am, free as a jay bird, and the little girl in me, would have never seen it remotely possible. I was a real spokeschild for the doctrine. One who at maybe four, would enjoy hanging out in the genealogy area, or the little girl who at 11 performed in 'Woman at the Well', or got accepted into ward choir despite minimal 18yr rules, or the 3yo who recalls coming out of Pageant half-asleep (in Palmyra) late at night with 'Anti-Mormons' (likely Baptists) holding picket signs in our faces and wearing devil costumes or scream mask and saying we were going to hell, yelling bible verses about the damnation that my little soul would succumb to.... Ask me anything.

Moonwatcher padded down the halls alongside the other students as class ended. The previous class was Art, which was nice to do after learning more about the history of Pyrrhia.
It was different, being at Jade Mountain Academy. There were so many dragons, all with their thoughts and such that plagued her mind as she went past those dragons. It was such a migraine that it was a miracle she was still sane.
Her other clawmates were having fun adjusting. Kinkajou was bounding around, her scales a bright pink that hurt the NightWing’s eyes so much that she had to look away from them. Carnelian was grumbling most of the time, taking spots that were secluded or empty before the rest of the class got in.
From what Moon has seen, Qibli was trying to make friends with Winter, the SandWing not having the best of luck with the IceWing. Moon didn’t want to peek into their minds; she was having a hard time as it was, with all the noise that was going on. Umber was also trying to get attention, mainly Qibli, but it seemed for naught.
The only one that didn’t seem different was Turtle. The SeaWing was quite the enigma, perplexing Moon as she had no idea what he was thinking. He was quiet, like her, and usually sat alone without anyone around him. Several times, she had seen Kinkajou and Qibli try to coax him out, but that was for naught as well.
Still, as Moon walked through the halls and headed back to her small dorm, she felt the freezing presence of an IceWing. She didn’t turn, just walking, but she listened as best she could with her powers. It wasn’t good to use them; they were a curse, but she needed to know which IceWing it was.
That dragon was boring. Ugh, I shouldn’t be here. I should be training to fight the Queen, not be here with these lesser dragons. One more class then back to the stupid dorm. Those thoughts let the NightWing know which IceWing was talking: Icicle.
Winter’s sister, and not the pleasant dragon to run into.
Moon continued to walk, not wanting to run into the IceWing, as it seemed she was in a foul mood today. She passed the IceWing, not making eye contact with her as she didn’t want to incur the wrath of that foul mood. It didn’t seem like she took notice of her, as she passed by the NightWing without a look. Moon let out an internal sigh; she didn’t want to attract attention from a royal IceWing that hated her guts and other NightWings as well.
She went to History, the lesson being about the history of the SkyWings, which had peaked Carnelian’s attention. It seemed like that was what it took to get the SkyWing’s attention, which Moon heard from Qibli’s mind noting that little tidbit.
It seemed like it was going to be a more peaceful day despite the foul mood of the IceWings.
Still, Moon didn’t want to jinx it, as she had no idea what was going to happen. Especially afterward. Hopefully, it wasn’t going to be too bad with the assignments.
As all the dragons in the class got up, Moon had to stop for a second, a pained breath coming out of her mouth. It was barely noticeable, as she quickly got over it. She padded after the other students, and she felt the ache of several bones within her body.
What the NightWing didn’t know was that someone did notice…
Icicle didn’t know what to do. She returned to her cave after class, hoping to complete her assignments for the next day. Still, it was boring, listening to the teachers, but she was used to it. Being taught in the IceWing kingdom came with those many perks for this school. She didn’t like the happiness and being nice to everyone. It disgusted her to an extent.
And on top of that, learning with other tribes! The IceWing princess grumbled, unhappy that she was learning with SandWings (thieves!) and those cursed, lying NightWings! The very same dragons that had lied to the world about their powers! They deserve to die! Her thoughts said to Icicle.
She merely huffed as she read over the same assignment for the fifth time. Her clawmates were doing something else that the IceWing didn’t bother to think about. While her mind screamed at the different ways she could kill every dragon that was in the school, her thoughts went to the NightWing that was in her previous class.
She didn’t know why, but that NightWing was different from the others. She didn’t brag or stay with the others at lunch; instead, she stayed quiet, ate alone, and was overall, weird. Icicle didn’t understand her. Why is this NightWing different? She had thought at the time. She had seen the glances her shameful brother took at the NightWing and she could tell Winter was falling for her.
While it may have disgusted her before, it seemed to spark a different feeling within her. True, the NightWing was much prettier than the couple of other females that were currently there, and the way she had kept her eyes from looking at her, seemed much more comforting than what the other NightWings had done when they had bumped into her.
What they had done was try to stare back at her, hoping to gain ground against a superior IceWing with little effect. She had stared back, and the NightWings who dared to challenge her promptly ran away.
But not this NightWing. She never locked eyes with her in passing; instead, she walked by, keeping her head down, as if she wasn’t wanting to be seen. From what her brother had said during lunch, she rarely spoke to anyone, which was saying something.
Still, when she had just been leaving the classroom, she had heard the faintest wisp of a breath coming out, and she had briefly looked back, seeing the NightWing hesitant for a moment before leaving.
Now, she wasn’t a fan of NightWings, but the odd one was alright in her scroll. She wasn’t fully in the scroll; that would take some time to gain the IceWing princess’ trust to earn that much.
It was the breath that worried her.
She had wondered what had made her do so; unfortunately, she didn’t have the time to figure out what had caused it to happen. If she had to talk to any NightWing within the school, it would be that one. What is going on with me? Icicle wondered. She couldn’t figure it out. Was she….
Icicle heaved herself from her spot on the bed. She needed some fresh air. She stepped out of the cave, heading towards the entrance to sort her thoughts out before they tampered with her heart.
She didn’t need that in her life.
Not at the moment.
As she walked through the small entrance to the mountain, hoping to get some privacy and get a breath of that cold air from the outside and not the musty smell inside, she noticed that the very NightWing she had been thinking about…
Was sitting right on the ledge.
Icicle tensed for a moment, and the NightWing turned, her eyes wide, (that dazzling dark green), before she looked away just as quickly. She began to shuffle away from the ledge, starting to rise from sitting.
“You don’t have to,” Icicle said, feeling the words slip from her tongue before she could control them. Her heart beat faster; the IceWing princess had no idea why her heart was beating so fast just from those words.
The NightWing stopped, clearly unsure of what to say. Hesitantly, she sat back down, and Icicle sat beside her, looking up at the stars.
It was quiet for a few moments. Icicle could feel the tension that was in the air. She didn’t want to say those words, but they had come out regardless. Still, it had felt…different, to say those words in a non-threatening manner. Within the back of her mind, thoughts muttered: try to be friends; talk to her; sit with her; don’t be like the rest.
“The night is peaceful,” Icicle said, looking at the stars above. The NightWing only nodded, looking at those same stars as well. She didn’t say a word. Not one.
Icicle let out an internal sigh. Great. This is how I wanted this to go. She thought to herself.
“Imperial is out.”
“What?” Icicle asked, confused but delighted that the dragon beside her is now talking.
“The largest of the moons.” The NightWing pointed towards the moons, one of them overshadowing the other two. “She’s the eldest of the three. My mom told me stories about her and her two sisters.” The NightWing
Icicle looked to where she pointed, seeing that massive moon as well. She nodded. “That’s nice,” was her response.
It quickly became silent, and Icicle felt nervous for the first time in her life. She knew that what she was doing was not the IceWing way, but like all destiny, it would seem hers’ wouldn’t be the one her parents would make for her. But as she looked at the NightWing, she finally noticed that she was staring back.
Her dark green eyes glittered in the moonlight as if they were gems shining. Curiously, her head was lower than Icicle’s, having to gaze up to meet her eyes. Icicle then realized that she was showing who was the superior one between the two; showing respect to her.
Icicle’s cold heart felt warm from those eyes.
Icicle’s cold heart felt warm from those eyes. She didn’t know what she was feeling, but she felt curiosity fuel her heart for the dragon that was with her. She didn’t question this feeling; only to figure out what was going on.
Soon, she noticed that the NightWing was leaving, and Icicle quickly got up, coming beside the dragon. Her heart yearned for more interactions with this dragon. “We should do this again.” The NightWing nodded, and Icicle felt an internal smile come into her being.
The NightWing looked at her, that head still slightly lowered towards her, her eyes glittering with questions. Icicle thought that she could be lost in those eyes for so long, as they were dazzling to her.
Icicle walked back towards her cave but the next words that came out of the NightWing’s mouth stopped her.
“Moon.”
Icicle turned, looking at the NightWing with a tilt to the head. How did she know the question that was within her mind but yet she never spoke it?
“My name is Moon.”
Then she walked past her, heading into the mountain.
Icicle could only stay, watching those eyes disappear into the inky darkness.
It continued to be like that. The two would meet at night, slowly becoming friends throughout the while. Icicle could feel that Moon was still nervous around her, so she took steps to fix that. She stopped threatening her like the others do; started to talk with her more often. She knew that the other IceWings were confused as to why she was changing her ways, but she wanted to be friends with this strange NightWing.
Back in the Ice Kingdom, everyone was against you.
But here, there was none of that. So I have no reason to stay the same, she had thought to herself one day. I can make my own decisions.
The next night, Icicle was walking down the familiar halls toward the entrance. She and Moon were going to eat and watch the stars again. She had felt more at ease with her, and the IceWing could tell the same was going on with Moon. It was good progress if she had to say so. The NightWing was a lot more considerate of the IceWing, and she started to do the same as well.
Moon was going to find some goat and was waiting for Icicle to come to the same spot that they had been going to since the first night.
However, once she got to the ledge, she didn't see Moon anywhere. The IceWing became confused as to why Moon wasn't there. She was always there. Where is she? Icicle questioned in her mind. There has to be a reason she isn't here. Maybe she's still getting the food. Maybe…
Then, she looked down and there was a splash of red.
Icicle's eyes widened, her nostrils flaring. No.
She looked around, seeing more splats of blood heading toward the trees. Her heart beat faster and faster within her chest, so much that it felt like a drum.
Instantly, Icicle spread her wings, jumping from the ledge, following the trail of blood. She quickly got into the trees, continuing to follow the path. She got hit by a couple of branches, but she didn't care about that. Where are you? She questioned worryingly.
Icicle heard the sounds of a scuffle, the sounds of pained yelps coming from ahead.
She followed the sounds, coming to the edge of a clearing and seeing Moon pinned down. Several NightWings were around her, crowding her so much that she had no room to get out. The IceWing could barely see her body shaking, the scales peeking between gaps in the crowd. Icicle couldn't help but notice that her scales had blood on them, increasing her worry to a major degree.
They had bloodied claws, and Icicle felt anger fuel through her body. What did they do to her? She wondered with a worry that was unbefitting of an IceWing princess, but she wasn’t the same anymore. As she stayed hidden, she heard words being spoken against her new friend.
"Freak."
"Weirdo."
"Nobody."
"You aren't a NightWing."
"You will never be one of us."
"Maybe you should just die."
All those words made the IceWing's cold blood boil to the point that she almost saw red right then and there. But those last words completely made her act without a thought. She charged, roaring at the NightWings. They barely turned, their eyes widening before Icicle barreled into them. She smashed two out of the way, whipping her tail around as she hovered over Moon, her body protecting the downed dragon.
She spared a glance, seeing a couple of bloodied spots on the dragon, scales in those areas broken and cracked. More anger fueled within the IceWing. How dare they hurt her new friend! One that she took the time to earn the trust of; one that she felt at ease with; one who made her change to who she is now; the very same one that Icicle knew that her heart wanted to be with her.
Icicle's eyes narrowed, her breathing quickening. She could feel her heart beating so fast in her chest that she felt it might burst out of her. Icicle had no idea what to do, but she knew that she had to protect Moon. She had to stop these dragons. She had to.
And she did.
The IceWing roared again, charging straight into the throng of them. She whipped her body around, fighting off the NightWings that got too close, sending them flying backward. She felt the years of training come over her; she moved with the grace of all IceWings, slashing against the scales of all the NightWings, keeping them back. She fought with all the anger that was within her body, within her soul.
Soon, she was panting, her claws bloodied from all of her opponents. They all ran away, and Icicle vaguely noted one with a bruised snout. She looked at her claws; the pristine white scales coated with blood that it was hard to notice the scales. As she stared at the retreating NightWings, a cough made her break her concentration.
Moon… Icicle thought, turning and reaching her new friend. Icicle knelt beside Moon, taking in the damage that had been done to the NightWing. Several scales were bloodied, with scratches near them leaking blood. One of her wings was at a weird angle, and Icicle knew that the wing was dislocated. More scratches were around her chest, tainting the beautiful scales with imperfects. Icicle glanced at Moon’s snout, seeing bruises forming on her face.
With gentleness, she caressed Moon’s cheek, careful not to touch the bruises, causing the hurt dragon to look at her. The IceWing realized that Moon’s eyes were glistening with tears, and Icicle felt her heart tear apart. Those NightWings had hurt her friend and caused this; had caused this pain for her friend who didn’t deserve it.
She hugged Moon, making sure to be gentle with her, and without hesitation, Moon returned it. Icicle kept her claws on her back, moving them in a circular motion to comfort the NightWing. She felt tears fall on her shoulder and neck, hearing the strangled gasps of the dragon she was comforting.
“I-I couldn’t stop them,” Moon sniffled, crying. “I heard them b-but I-I…”
“Shh,” Icicle reassured Moon, hearing more of those tears wet her neck. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” She tried to be reassuring, but since she had no idea how to do so, she decided to keep hugging her.
“But it’s not! I h-heard those th-thoughts a-and I-I couldn’t d-do anything!” Moon cried, burying her head into Icicle’s neck. “I’m s-sorry! I’m so, s-so s-sorry!”
The IceWing’s mind immediately thought about her words. What did she… her thoughts began but trailed off as she realized what Moon was saying. What she had been missing this entire time.
She had powers.
Icicle glanced down at the NightWing, seeing a new light in the dragon. But instead of anger against her for this new revelation, Icicle felt sad for some reason.
Even though Moon had kept her powers hidden, Icicle began to notice that she had never used her powers for any gain. The other NightWings might’ve, but Moon had just wanted to stay hidden. From the sounds of her crying, she never wanted her powers. Whatever Moon was saying was lost to Icicle, as she finally began to connect the dots. Why Moon never used those powers; why she stayed quiet; never one for the crowds.
The reason why Moon chose to continue to meet with Icicle after that night.
She just wants to be like the rest of us, Icicle finished the puzzle with her thoughts. She’s like… me. She heard no more crying, and the IceWing looked down, seeing Moon’s eyes looking back at her. Those dark green met arctic blue, the two not hearing anything but each other’s breath. Icicle wanted to do something, anything that she was understanding why Moon was the way she was.
But she didn’t need to do anything.
Moon did it for her.
The NightWing placed her chest on Icicle’s, startling the IceWing, but Moon didn’t give up her grip. Icicle heard the thump-thump of not just her heart, but also Moon’s as well. Once again, she looked at Moon, questioning. Moon’s eyes softened, a low purr coming out of her throat. Her head was lowered to Icicle’s, and she recognized the respect gesture.
She nuzzled the top of Moon’s head, licking the bruises gently. Moon shivered, hugging herself closer to Icicle. Icicle closed her eyes, breathing deeply to slow her heart. Moon took a shaky breath, but soon it became slower. Slowly, both hearts slowed down, and they eventually synchronized.
Icicle opened her eyes, seeing Moon do the same. Her eyes trailed to that broken wing, and she knew that it would have to be fixed if she were to fly again. “Hey,” she said. “I got to fix your wing, okay?” she asked the last part, letting Moon know that she wasn’t going to hurt her. No matter what, Moon was still the new friend that she had made. And she wasn’t going to break that promise.
Moon let a shaky breath, nodding. Icicle put her claws on the wing, finding where the bone was supposed to be. She held out her tail, letting Moon grab onto it. “This is going to hurt, so get ready. I’m going to count to three.”
Moon closed her eyes briefly before opening them again, a steel resolution in her eyes. She nodded, gripping the IceWing’s tail with firmness.
“One, two, three!”
Icicle slammed her claws forward, pushing the bone back into place. Moon roared, clutching the IceWing princess’s tail tightly. Great Ice Dragon, she’s strong! Icicle thought. She hadn’t even thought of Moon’s strength. She looked small, but she never knew she was this strong! But soon, the deed was done and it was over.
Moon panted, still clutching Icicle’s tail. The IceWing looked at her, glad that the job was done. “Can you fly?” she asked.
Moon nodded, saying, “Yes. It hurts though.” She leaned on Icicle, walking with a limp to her back left leg.
“Let's get you to someone.” Icicle opened her wings, flying upward with Moon leaning on her. She had her wings open as well, though Icicle could tell that the NightWing was unsteady with her wingbeats. But she stayed by Moon’s side, even at the academy. As they landed on the ledge, no longer caring about the picnic, heading deeper into the mountain, straight to the infirmary.
All Icicle could think during this entire time was: I’m a white savior for Moon.

First
Prev
Corva fiddled with an empty medicine bottle, he looked at the labels and peeled them, only to stick it on the bottle again, he would screw off the cap and screw it back on repeatedly. It was an old habit of his, just looking at random things and playing with them like a fidget toy, he only does it when he has nothing to do, ever since he got a job that habit disappeared, but now, all he can do is lay down on the bed of a hospital tent, and he's also technically currently unemployed. Since no company is going to recruit anyone in the middle of an invasion from killer robots. He thought back to what happened yesterday, when Lavoss came into the tent and confronted Kawl.
"You're still awake?"
"Hmm?"
He was still curious about it, what did Lavoss mean by traitor? Did Kawl kill someone? He doesn't look like someone who would do such a thing, whatever it was that he did though, it was significant enough for Lavoss to hit him in the head with the stock of his gun knocking him out cold. It was shocking to see, he was awfully calm up until the point he said something about the traitor part and not a moment later Kawl was on the ground unconscious with a gun stock shaped dent on the chitin protecting his head. Everyone gasped, except Mari, the nurse, she looked like she expected it for a long time and stayed calm.
"Do you have trouble sleeping?"
She asked as she came back with another box of medical supplies.
"No, just… didn't feel like it"
"What do you mean you don't feel like sleeping?"
She put the box down and walked up to him.
"Well… i got plenty of sleep yesterday, spent the rest of it sleeping, didn't i? And most of today as well"
"With all due respect that doesn't justify staying up until the middle of the night, besides, you need rest"
"Same thing can be said about you… I haven't seen you take any kind of break, even the doctor's not here, why are you?"
"The downside of being the only qualified nurse left around, not the only one in the camp of course, just the only one left for this tent, besides… it's my duty to watch over the patients, and make sure they have enough sleep…"
She raised her voice a little on that last word, as well as throwing a glance at other patients that were already asleep.
"Subtle…"
"Right i am, now sleep"
"I've tried, i don't think i can"
"So you do have trouble sleeping, hold on, i think i have something for that in stock"
"No thanks, can we just… talk? It's been some time since I've had a friendly talk with anyone, just… Not about anything in particular, you know? Just talk"
"Hmm… fine, when was the last time then?"
"Right before the invasion… right before he lost his life…"
"Let's… not talk about that…"
"Wise…"
"Uhm… What's your job?"
"QC, for quality control, in an arms factory"
"A factory worker? You looked way cleaner than i thought you would"
"If i were working in the assembly i think you would change your mind about that, but no, QC's don't get their hand dirty often, maybe once in a while when a weapon explodes on them"
"Huh… ever had one?"
"Personally? No, have I seen it? Yes, funny story, when i first got accepted i had this instructor, telling us how to check the quality of products, the first rifle he picked up to show us how to check the pulse had a faulty wiring on it, too much energy, it blew up on his face while a group of new QC's was watching, safe to say he doesn't like it when some of us laughed"
"Poor guy, Reminded of someone"
"Who?"
"My sister"
"Oh i…"
"Oh don't worry, it's nothing sensitive, it's like your story, she's a teacher, been one for a while even before she got here, so when she got here to Rosan she was considered a senior teacher, and when new ones needs a tour of their workplace and know how to handle the kids they relied on her, now one day she was guiding a new teacher…"
"Mhm?"
"And she was like… maybe she wants to show off a little bit, I don't know, but from what she told me, she said to this new teacher something along the lines of: 'look at these children! So behaved! If you want to do that you have to learn from me' or something like that… and… not a second after that, one of the kids who were playing threw a wet ball of paper and it hit her right in the back of the head"
Corva had to spend some willpower trying not to laugh, remembering that he was the one who laughed when his instructor blew himself up along with Kasso didn't make it any easier.
"Oh the look of embarrassment on her face, didn't see it myself, but i wish i did, i can feel her esteem crumble every time i mention it, it was cute to see her just shrink and try to hide her face"
"Oh… you'll like it when you see how my friend acts around girls, Kasso, he…"
Mari was a bit confused why Corva suddenly fell silent, why he looked at the ground with a frown, until she remembered what he said, and it clicked on her.
Right before he lost his life
"I'm sorry for your loss"
"It's fine, i'm sure he's in a better place… much better than this… hellhole"
She wanted to comment on his sudden pessimism, but decided that won't be so wise considering he's not wrong, no matter how many times she tries to ignore it, she has to admit, their current situation is a hellhole.
"I suppose that's enough talk for now…"
"...."
"I advise you sleep now, you'll get tired"
He didn't respond, and just went to sleep without another word, and an unchanged expression of sorrow. She sighed and returned to her work, sorting the type of medications into different containers.
"When will it all end?"
—-~----
It was calm… and black… that is about all Schen can think about regarding his current state, he can't tell if he's dreaming, or if he's asleep or awake, it's just that he is aware. It was a strange feeling, like being asleep physically but not mentally, he feels like he's floating, without a body, like there's nothing that can limit him. And yet at the same time he can't do anything, he was just aware, and drifting away in this weird state of half dream. For some reason, he thought of those tales of people who 'died' , people who experienced long comas, and the tale of their supposed journey to this place between the mind and the world.
Ridiculous stories, barely believable, and uninteresting if you ask him. And yet, here he is now, aware of what's happening, he remembers everything, he passed out from blood loss, after fighting one of those things. He wants to wake up, check on his men, maybe meet up with Captain Vaiya and make up a plan on what to do next regarding their situation. But you can't wake up when you don't even have control over your eyes, so it was more of a waiting game, an annoying one, knowing what's happening and yet can't act on it. He'd rather be actually dead over this, at least if he's dead he doesn't have to worry about anything. The problem is, he knows he's alive, it's just that his body is not responding to him, nor can he feel it.
It took what felt like hours, since he wasn't actually asleep, he was paralyzed but still conscious. After an agonizing few hours, he felt the first bodily sensation, his finger, it graduated to the feeling of his hand resting on a soft surface, probably some sort of bed, he can feel his breath as well. He started feeling his body, little by little, unfortunately, now that he feels his body again, he can feel what his body feels, and that is pure unadulterated pain. On his head, on his leg, his back, his arm, everywhere, he doesn't remember getting hit that much, but apparently he did. His back arched from trying to suppress it, and he let out a grunt that was too loud for his standard.
"Calm down! Don't move just yet…"
A voice, good, that means he should be in a friendly area now. He opened one of his eyes with a considerable amount of struggle, and saw the face of an Enovian with a waterproof paramedic hat on through his blurry vision.
"I've had worse…"
What a word for him to say before his back gave up on him and suddenly went limp, triggering pain in many areas of his body.
"Aergh…"
He grunted with some exasperation and regret. Maybe he shouldn't be showing off at this kind of age, it's not good for his bones.
"Where's our painkillers?"
—-~----
"Captain?"
"Yes?"
"He's awake"
"Just? or?..."
"For awhile, he needed some time to actually get up, thought we'll just wait for him before telling you"
"Alright, thank you, i'll be there, a wonder he survived though, and to wake up this early"
"It is, his wounds were near fatal, he was essentially one light tap away from a fractured skull"
"Tough little guy… you can go now, there are others no?"
"Oh…yes, sorry ma'am"
Vaiya turned off her personal datapad, and stood up from her command seat. She dusted some metal dust off her uniform and made her way to the recruitment office turned into a temporary medical bay. She walked through a collection of the remaining crew of the ship, some simply threw a glance at her, some greeted her, and some gave her a salute. She noted the look of despair in their eyes and sighed, but kept on walking as that isn't her goal right now. She arrived at a door with a plate next to it that says: 'recruitment', the plate had an electrical tape with a writing on it that says: 'medical bay now' stuck haphazardly on top of it.
It isn't a neon sign, but it works. She opened the door manually with her hand as most of the doors in administration are now unpowered, inside was simple, four 'beds' laid on the floor, with most of the desks removed, the remaining medical crews stay here now, treating anyone they can. Including the new security captain, Schon, who she spotted sitting on his bed half awake wrapped in blood caked bandages, while clearly struggling to drink from a glass cup. He looked oddly… calm, like he's not surprised he's here at all. Granted, she did rescue him from becoming minced meat, and it's only logical to assume there are survivors holding out somewhere, but he looks absolutely unfazed, as if he had this happen before.
"SC Schon?"
She walked up to him, he gave an unsurprised look and went back to doing his best to drink.
"Captain…"
"Nice to see you awake already, i figured it would take a long time but you prove me wrong…"
"Uh-huh…."
"About that status report you ask for-"
"I already know, stranded, no engine, almost all crew dead, ship's practically scrapped, light's dying, and surrounded by killer machines chewing on the hull, and Rosan IV isn't so lucky either"
"Yes… unfortunate is it?"
"Yes, but right now I don't care, how's my men?"
"Your what?"
"My subordinates"
"Ah… they're… few, 50… down to you and two others, i'm sorry"
"I see… who?"
"Koern, and Ayuna"
Schen wasn't paying much attention to the captain, he simply stared off into the distance, but hearing the young Caevit's name roll off her tongue took his attention.
"Really?... Thank you, but you're not here just for that right?"
Now that he actually pays some attention to her, he noticed her face change, a bit more tense.
"You read my mind, come"
"I can barely move my lips and you want me to walk?"
She looks around for a minute before looking back at him.
"I don't mind carrying someone"
"Huh?"
—-~----
"If i have credit for every time a Tekit lady carries me in her arms while i can barely move, i'll have two"
Schen commented on his current position, it earned him a confused and curious look from the captain. She took him to an uninhabited room to talk, as it turns out most of the administration has been turned to some sort of holdout for whoever's left alive in the ship. She set him down on a chair and followed suit, sitting right in front of him.
"So what is this? Is there something you want to know? If it's about this whole thing then you're talking to a wall"
Her behavior was odd, Schen noted, she seems… agitated, not angry, just stirred, like something's bugging her. He can understand being scared, but the way she moves suggests whatever's currently happening isn't the case.
"Nothing much… i just want… confirmation"
"Go ahead…"
"So… I heard that Koern asked you for help, is that so?"
"Yeah? Got to me after he said you can't help"
"Do you know what his issue was?"
"Yes, random images and voice recordings from his cousin"
"Okay… where does his cousin lives?"
"In Rosan IV and from what i heard, it's about as messed up as this ship"
"That is correct, do you-"
"Wait, can we just get to the point here? What's the issue? Why are you suddenly interested in Koern's problem?"
"I… because…"
"Hmm?"
"...Because i've been having the same problem, what you said, random images, and voice recordings, now i know it's exactly the same, that is what i want to know"
"Huh… okay… so?..."
"There's one difference… his problem started today, during the jump, my problem has been going on for the last five cycles"
"....."
"And I want to know one more thing, please, answer this honestly… do you see it?"
He can feel her agitation increase tenfold as she asks the question. She was normal, now she's visibly shaking.
"See what?..."
"The shape…"
"Shape?"
"Please tell me you saw it too, i… I've been thinking about it… for a long time… ever since I've peered into those images, there's a shape stuck in my eyes, it's burned itself into my mind, and I feel it…. Everyday i think i see something in the corner of my eyes, i hear noises that aren't there, closer and closer every time!…. It… it was getting closer… the shape…"
Her stare became intense, like the stare of a crazed person.
"i… don't know…"
"Oh but you know! You saw it!... Just as I did… it sees you, but you can barely see it, it's there… watching… First it stays in the image, then it creeps into you, haunts you, then you see it hide everytime you turn your head… it follows you, everywhere you go… in your sleep… when you work… all the time…"
Her breathing was rapid, almost uncontrolled.
"Perhaps… that's just you, i do not experience these"
"It may not now, but it will…. Because it has to me, it's like a tumor, and it won't go away, no matter how hard i try… it's still there…"
She calmed down slightly, her breathing was normal again, sort of, and she's no longer shaking, but the stare is still there, the stare of true fear, striking deep into his soul. As she calmed down more and thankfully finally averted her gaze elsewhere, Schen took the downtime to process what he just listened to, and his conclusion was: what the ////?
"Sorry… i… i just… i needed to know… i need to know if i'm not the only one… now i know it's in you too, not now, but soon, t-thank you"
"Your… welcome…"
"Should we return?"
"We…"
He pondered about asking her to take him to the bridge, so he can look out and see what's happening outside the ship, but now he's reconsidering it, because of that… experience.
"...Yes, we should"
She let go of his arms, he didn't even realize it, but she was holding on to him tight the whole time.
"Of course… of course, let's make this quick…"
—-~----
Schen observed Captain Vaiya as she left the medical room, he noted her sudden return to her previous well mannered behavior, he can still see a tinge of anxiety in her eyes and movements however, and realized how similar it was to Koern's behavior. Anxiety, unease, massive discomfort, moving around constantly, and eyes snapping to random positions as if they're trying to catch something on the move. It was unmistakable, Schen recalled back to his conversation with Koern, about something he said.
'it's… distressing'
Koern did look at the images before coming to him, and it was clear the images caused it, if Vaiya had something similar or identical happen, he can assume the cause for her distress is the same. But one question remains that still baffles him: how? How do random images do that? Implanting irrational fear into someone, making them see things that aren't there, what is happening? And now that he considers it, he did see the images, is he going to fall victim to the same thing? Why hasn't he felt anything if those images can do that to someone through just a mere look at it?
One question leads to another, and it all gets more complicated the longer he tries to solve it. He wanted to ignore it, maybe they were just unstable and he misjudged the whole thing, but he can't help but feel there's something to it, it's clear those images and recordings somehow were sent by the creatures currently roaming the ship, he sees the connection, but why? And how? Psychological warfare? Maybe, that was the most rational answer he could come up with. With their clear situation of being in the middle of an invasion, he can only assume such an answer, but applying it to only a few specific targets seems beyond strange.
He pinched his snout in frustration, before taking a deep breath and exhaling it as slowly as he could. Perhaps he shouldn't think of it too much for now, maybe that's how it gets into you, the shape… whatever it is. He looked around his surroundings, a 'medical' room, previously an office, he watched the doctors treat the wounded as he thought of his next step. Looking outside the ship should be a good idea, he had asked a nurse about the whole situation before Vaiya showed up, they told him the entire star system has fallen, Rosan IV was silent, any attempts at communication and call for help were futile, the other planets around the system, some are yet to be named, are the same.
That means those things have been here for a while, and somehow stayed out of the union's radar. He remembered the emerging stories of Rosan IV, how it became a ghost, how communications were far and few between, how many ships that traveled to its system went missing and ones that returned had signs of heavy damage on them, and how their crews looked 'lifeless'. If Rosan's system has been like this for some time, wouldn't that mean any ship that comes here would suffer the same fate as his ship?.
Why would some return and look 'fine' was beyond him, but a thought nestled itself in his mind, a terrifying thought, it made his blood run cold, the thought that these things have spread beyond this solar system, spread silently, in cargo ships that travel to every corner of union space. Suddenly people seeing shapes and hearing sounds after they look at an image doesn't sound horrifying anymore.
"////…"
—-~----
Faen sat in his office, for the millionth time, he stared at his computer, for the millionth time, he opened the files containing the Qrid military spending, for the millionth time, he looked at the reports file, for the millionth time. It has always been like this, being a general wasn't all about giving orders and making war plans, most of his time was spent in front of his computer, looking at the passive activity of his army, and its spendings, receiving calls or calling someone to see if he can learn something new about someone else's army. Look at pirate reports, raiders, terrorists, radicalist, sometimes cultists, it has always been like this, looking away at the computer, looking at files, always has been.
He wouldn't say he couldn't make wartime decisions, if one were to ever occur, he's always confident he can, after all he has learned from both his father and many mentors. He trained for it, for war, he trained how to control an army in such a situation for pretty much his whole life, he doesn't have to, but it's better to know how to fight than not at all. You never know when it'll come, maybe now, maybe in years during your old days, maybe never, but if it ever does come, he knows what to do, whether he likes it or not. It's a part of his pride, his identity, though he couldn't say much about his son, and everyday he worries about not having a successor, not having someone to pass the torch to, and as time marches on indiscriminately, his worry can only grow.
Sometimes he wondered if should've been harsh, and not fulfill his wish to go to university so he can learn computer science, and put him in the very school he himself went through to become what he is now. But that's not a good father, isn't it? It would be against his wish, and he would've needed to force him, it's what his son's grandfather did… to him, he still thinks about it, about his original dream. A singer, a far cry from a supreme general, he remembered the angry face of his father upon learning what he wanted to be, it felt like it happened just yesterday. He never liked it, not once, despite managing to prove himself worthy as a leader of an army in the end of everything.
And to think, he was almost like that, to his own son, he couldn't handle the thought. Faen took his eyes off the screen, just for a moment, and looked at another one, a camera display, showing his son's room. Rana was sleeping, as usual and as he should be at a time like this, he looked at him through the screen, at his arm, and thought about his latest conversation with the woman he loved.
"Disappointment, huh?"
He felt a subtle pain in his chest out of nowhere, he opened the drawer on his desk through a motion that tells of excessive habit, and absentmindedly took his medication without looking. With a sigh, he looked at a small button to his right. There was a screen above it that had a list of people considered significant enough to be contacted by him directly, which ranged from the supreme generals of other species, to the head maiden that cleaned his and his son's bedroom. He looked for a specific one that he recently added, the surgeon that is the head of operation for the trials he had put Rana through for the last few cycles, the trials that he and his mother show complete disapproval to.
He found it and clicked the button, it was answered after some time and he entered a call with the surgeon.
"A pleasure to speak with you general"
"Hrm…"
"Is there something you wish to ask of me?"
"Yes… we should stop, no more trials"
"If that is what you want, then I will gladly comply, but may I ask why for the sudden stop? You seem invested in this when you first called me to arrange it"
"Family issues"
"that is-"
He cut the call short, and continued his work. Looking at the files, looking for differences every so often, making sure everything is stable and taken care of, and glancing at his son's monitor once in a while, and for the first time since his son graduated university, he smiled. Perhaps that's the right thing, to be a father, not a general. At least… for a moment, his smile disappeared as he received a call, it was marked as urgent, and was displayed on his screen instead of just a sound notification. He dusted his uniform and fixed any creases as he noticed the call wasn't just any call, it was a notice for him to join a discussion between supreme generals of each species and their respective leaders, that includes the matriarch.
It is odd he wasn't notified of this earlier, oftentimes these kinds of things have their own schedule that was discussed beforehand, a sudden meeting like this can only mean one thing. He accepted the call, and his screen changed to the display he's all too familiar with, a digital conference room, two lines of camera display, the bottom for the generals, the top for the leaders, they were all present, which is to be expected. The matriarch of Qrids, the Tekit queen, the Caevitan allfather, high empress of Enovia, and the Civean president, the current roster of union council, below them was him, and other generals, including general Cynte of the Civeans.
He still remembers his little offer to make an accident to highlight Rana's name, after the reveal of the Goels and the incident it was kept as a private thing between them that didn't really go anywhere. He doesn't want to talk about it, neither does Cynte, so it was technically a win-win situation, despite the unexpected and frankly out of their favor results. The call was oddly silent, no one was saying anything even the loud ones like his mother, they seemed to be waiting for something, or someone. Faen didn't question it, it would be considered stupid, so he too followed the silence. It was a strange and awkward few minutes of staring at each other not saying anything, up until what they waited for arrived in the call.
Another screen appeared above all ten screens, and on it was something he dreaded to see, the collection of red revolving rings, Cain. Practically every general present felt tense, including him, the leaders couldn't care less, except maybe for the Civean president who expressed the most worry as they all waited for Cain to speak. Sudden meeting, all members, and Cain, and considering their latest development with the Goels, this couldn't be good. The red rings assemble into the shape of a solar system like it did when it appeared on the monitors of his warship, and Cain spoke with his usual low pitched synthesized voice that everyone in the room knew quite well.
'it is no doubt all of you will question why I requested this urgent meeting, i apologize if any of you found it to be too sudden, but what I have to tell you will change your mind, and I will not waste your time, as we are in a race against time itself… the union has been breached by an invader, you are under attack, and in a process of galaxy wide invasion'
No, definitely not good.
"What do you mean by this?"
Faen immediately asked, as much as he distrust Cain, he must agree with his mindset that no time should be wasted. And it seems his question stopped a particular set of leaders trying to speak, stopping them from blurting out what are probably4 going to be pointless sarcastic remarks, so that was another benefit of speaking first.
'your union is currently under the invasion of a race that is arguably similar to me, we call them Shakran'
The display of red rings changed to a scrolling collection of images, images of… Faen doesn't know how to describe it, bipedal creatures, made of metal, and grossly disfigured bodies, with sharp claws and many eyes. Every single thing varies, some of the things in the images looked small and only had claws, some were massive and had what are clearly cannons as a weapon. He noted a certain detail about the images, they were blurry, and not straight, and some strange things were staring at the camera, while looking elsewhere. Something tells Faen these images were taken in the middle of active combat.
'They are a hivemind of machines, their sentience and sapience is debatable, but that does matter currently as their only goal is to destroy and conquer'
"Lies! If we were under an invasion from them, we would've known already! Besides… we already have an invader… we're talking to them right now"
The Tekit queen spoke with clear passive aggresive energy in her voice. Faen sighed in annoyance but kept it to himself.
'i understand the distrust, but it is no reason to make a sarcastic remark, however, you need to trust me on this matter, because their return can only mean danger to the union, and the universe as a whole, they are-'
"Wait, what do you mean… their return?"
'you all must've wondered how and why i and my brother ended up the way we did on that desert planet, what you are seeing on my screen is the answer to your question'
It didn't click for any of the leaders, their annoyed expression stays the same as Cain finished his sentence, but it clicked for every single military leader in the room, and it horrified them.
'my kind have encountered them before, my creators, it led to a war, a million year war, between me and them, they are what wiped my creators out of existence, and soon will be the cause of extinction for every single species in this union if we don't take any actions, since you refused, i have personally tracked every ship that left Rosan IV for the last six cycles, here is the data'
The scrolling images turned into a detailed map of the galaxy, with every single star system currently under union control included in it, there were red lines all over the map, they were all traced back all the way to one specific system, Rosan IV. A heavy weight rested itself on Schen's mind as he realized how far the lines have gone, to a point it crosses itself, wrapping around the galaxy in a circle, like some sort of a chaotic web.
'Rosan is lost, it is highly likely they have turned it into a staging ground, i know that we all have strived to avoid this, but war is inevitable, i have send a complete data regarding the Shakrans to all of you, please review it as fast as you can, and take your moves, as i will mine right now, alert your fleets, if they see my fleet entering a system, tell them they are here as an ally, i have been defeated once, i will not repeat the same mistake again, i hope you can catch up and help me, because there is no telling of what they will do once their setup is complete, and there is no telling whether or not i can do this alone'
"Wait! What should we do?"
'search and destroy, hunt down every ship that left the system, check every station, scan every inch of space, detonate stations, evacuate every planet they have visited then purge the cities and hammer the surface with orbital strikes if you might, but by all means… do not let. them. develop. That is all i have to say, my reinforcements are coming, but i do not know if there is enough time, act now'
And with that, Cain left the conference room, and at that very moment, it shattered, every world leader was either furious or dead silent with a look of horrific realization, his fellow generals went into a panic and contacted their fleets. Except for him, he simply sat there, unmoving and very still, staring at the galaxy map Cain had brought up, looking at one particular star system, crossed several times by the red lines, and surrounded by it, Sheneae XI, isn't that?... The solar system his wife is visiting to look at a newly opened hospital?.
(a TON of RIC's)

Disclaimer: Registered trademarks and copyrights are properties of their rightful owners. As this series jumps realities very often it is hard to track that info.
DM, the Digitalman, the Scion of Variable is a creation of my good friend who does not use Reddit and is used with permission.
The Pokémon Lucario is © The Pokemon Company.
“My Dad is my hero.”
Harry Connick, Jr.
The Daughter that Follows
Chapter 27
Reunited
Part 3
Anna’s barriers flared to life and she felt Hong Long try to push through.
“No, we don't want to scare them any worse than they are.” Anna said telepathically as she felt the creature’s jaws begin to squeeze down on her barriers.
She felt Hong Long strain against her will then finally push through and form in front of her. The dragon roared and slammed into the beast, coiling and restraining the struggling creature. Then it looked in the direction of Alan. Anna followed her tulpa’s gaze.
Alan Quain was casually holding the moth of the Indominous Rex shut, the creature was now forcefully crouched and clearly in a submissive stance. He was patting its side and soothing it with comforting words and a telepathic reassurance. He looked over at Anna briefly and nodded to the other one which was currently trying to bite into Hong Long, which was proving fruitless as the tulpa’s skin was near impenetrable to a mundane creature. Anna, however, was getting the feeling of bites all over her body.
She sighed and walked over to the dinosaur, near enough to its snapping jaws, but more than just out of range. She focused and soon she was in it’s mind. He was a furious and aggressive creature, made even more aggressive by a lifetime of shocks from batons and drugs from guns. She saw his only solace was his sister who was now being casually restrained by something it saw as food. Anna reached out mentally and hugged the creature in its mind. To the dinosaur’s perspective though it was now very tiny compared to Anna’s mental form. She tried her best to comfort it, but it was continually lashing out. Soon though, her father joined her and pulled her away. The dinosaur soon fell into a deep sleep.
“They’ll have to be quarantined in the old Bio-Syn sanctuary, but we don’t have to end them.” Alan said. “This one is going to be a problem unless he’s asleep though.”
“People suck.” Anna sniffled.
Alan nodded. “We can, but we can also...”
“Be better.” Anna nodded. “Kratos wasn’t a subtle teacher.”
Alan laughed, “You’d be surprised.”
“So what now?” Anna asked.
“I contacted Billy, they’ll be here for pickup in the morning. Then they go to the sanctuary and we go back to the camp for a bit. Until then I’ll keep him in a deep sleep, his sister won’t be too much of an issue, she’s calmer, but she’s gonna need to eat.” Alan said as he looked to Hong Long, “Think you can help out there?”
Hong Long snorted and nodded, then looked at Anna.
Anna smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”
Hong Long made a series of mumbles and nudged Anna’s head.
“Go get her something good to eat. Like a big crocodile or something.” Anna smiled and patted him on the head.
The tulpa dragon flew off.
Alan made camp and Anna helped. By the time they had finished Hong Long had returned and put an overly large snake by the Rex’s mouth.
“Well that’s a fucking huge anaconda.” Alan sighed as purple flashed around the area of their camp.
“Something we should worry about?” Anna asked.
Alan shrugged. “Potentially, there are realities where anacondas just get absurdly large and eat people.”
Anna’s eyes went wide.
“I doubt this is one of those worlds, but for all I know someone de-extincted the Titanboa.” Alan huffed and added, “Again.”
“Again?!” Anna almost shrieked.
“I thought you loved all animals.” Alan laughed.
“I do, but who keeps making these clones and why?” Anna stomped her foot on the ground as Hong Long shrunk down and coiled over her shoulder.
“Rich assholes wanting to make more money by selling a ‘perfect weapon’.” Alan sighed. “Story doesn’t change much honestly. Psionic soldier. Cloned dinosaur. Engineered Dinosaur. Ancient Snake. They always want to exploit something, there’s always a Looten Plunder.”
“Okay, was that a name?” Anna asked.
“Ah, you didn’t get to meet The Planeteers, that’s right.” Alan sighed and shook his head. “We’ll go find a world of theirs, you’d get along with all of them. But yeah it's the name of an asshole whose only goal is to exploit nature for money. Also hires a very lethal mercenary I tend to have to kill.”
“Yikes.” Anna said as she sat down and began to stroke Hong Long like a very long and reptilian cat.
“The Planteers were 5 kids recruited by a very literal spirit of the Earth, Gaia. They’re not soldiers and were never meant to be, their entire purpose is education and enlightenment. But they weren’t left defenseless. They each got a magic ring, four with the classic elements and the fifth is heart, which is kinda like telepathy but more here...” He tapped his chest. “If they really get pressed, which happens to them a lot because they're teens and they’re fighting psychotic, sometimes super villain adults, they can combine the powers to make...” He gestured in the air and the illusion of a blue skinned man with teal hair and red suit-like parts on his body appeared, “Captain Planet.”
“Nice mullet.” Anna snickered.
“He likes it.” Alan laughed. “He loves those kids, I try to remember that when I’m in their worlds.”
Anna nodded as she watched the image. “He has the heart of a hero.”
Alan laughed, “Filling those shoes already?”
“I think it’s because the other part of my base is already there.” Anna said. “I’m just waiting on you.”
“Well now we’re just waiting on each other.” Alan smirked. “Get some sleep. I got the watch. Need to keep the big boy asleep anyway.”
Anna nodded and walked into her tent, “Hong Long keep him some company for a bit please?”
Hong Long nodded coiled around Alan’s waist, waiting to be patted.
“Oh no, you don’t fool me.” Alan smiled as he pulled out some cards. “Come on, a game or two.”
Hong Long wrinkled his nose and snorted but coiled his lower body in such a way that it made a flat enough surface to play a game of cards.
Anna woke up to the sound of metal clanging against metal. Slowly she walked out of her tent and saw that her father was loading the male Indominous Rex into a holding sling. The female was actually sitting calmly in a holding crate, two large goat carcasses at her maw for her to eat whenever.
“Your dragon cheats.” Alan laughed as he locked the final column into place. “But he cheats poorly.”
“Why are you teaching my dragon card games?” Anna asked as she patted the dragon that once again coiled around her like a sash.
“He knows them, I just wanted a game or two.” Alan snorted.
Hong Long made some murmuring noises and grumbles that Anna understood as him being upset at being caught.
“Of course he caught you, he’s endlessly old.” Anna said with a minor jab to her father.
Alan smiled then realized what she had said as several work men laughed at the joke.
“My daughter, guys.” Alan sighed. “All right, let’s pack and get back to the camp and a warm shower!”
“Oh, warm showers.” Anna nodded. “And you can tell me about some other places we should visit.”
Alan smiled as he hugged his daughter. “I got a great one!” He laughed.
(T)(D)(T)(F)---(T)(F)(T)(W)
Another helicopter ride and a few time zones later the father and daughter were once again at the Montana based Camp Cretaceous. Alan had gotten the honor of the first shower in no small part due to a pachy skidding and covering him in mud and excrement through the fencing it had. Anna was glad that she had it last though, she got to enjoy the fresh hot water that she knew her dad had helped kick up.
It was well into the evening when they were sitting on his porch, looking out at the heads of the brachiosauruses swaying in the setting sun. Rio was even taking her time to watch them as well.
Alan was actually enjoying himself to a degree he hadn’t let himself in a very long time.
Anna was ecstatic, and enraptured by the gentle giants.
Rio’s recent turmoil and confusion seemed to have faded.
Then Alan sighed loudly and put his beer down on a table.
Anna focused and Rio did as well.
Hong Long coiled around Anna.
Rio stood and took a defensive stance.
From the high above the green aura of Psy-Ko descended, her enhanced powers made her glow like a beacon in the night. Besides her a suit of black metallic armor was descending as well.
“Hello Alan.” Psy-Ko smiled. “Anna.”
“Go die in a fire.” Anna growled.
“Is that anyway to greet--” Psy-Ko was cut off.
“Yes!” Alan shouted, “Yes it is how you great lunatics who hound and harass your family!”
An invisible force sent the armor that contained Sindri sailing into the sky.
“Well, I guess we’re fighting then!” Sindri roared as he rebounded back faster than anyone could react. His armor’s fist impacted a barrier that seemed to pop out of thin air. It was gleaming white and had odd symbols filling it.
“I’m sorry, I’m keeping them safe for a bit.” Ragnis grinned as he appeared. “Allow me to assert your place in the hierarchy of power.”
“Above him.” Psy-Ko grinned as green strands of hair stretched out and began to weave themselves into the various dinosaurs.
“Oh no you don’t!” Anna snarled as she formed a blade of her aura around her wrist and levitated herself up to the stands, cutting through all of them.
Alan just stared as his temper started to flare. “FLEISCH!” He roared.
The psionic woman smiled at the man she hated. “You remembered my name.”
“You’re boring.” Ragnis said as he looked down at the straining form of Sindri in his mech suit. “Now her..” Ragnis made a kicking motion and Sindri’s mech was swallowed by a beam of light and vanished.
Ragnis was then immediately at Psy-Ko’s side swinging a huge claymore down on her. Psy-Ko smiled as she dodged effortlessly. Soon she felt all the strands of her hair were cut free from their targets. Shr grinned again as she turned to Anna.
“My dear, why such worry? They’d be under better care with me.” Psy-Ko tried her best to give a sweet smile.
Anna stopped and turned to her.
“Anna!” Alan shouted. “She’s up to something.” He brought himself into the air and watched as Rio awas now engaging the returning form of Sindri. “This is some sort of trap!”
“Oh do be quiet Alan!” Psy-Ko sneered as tendrils of her hair raced and encased Alan Quain.
Anna roared as she surged forward. Ragnis joined her in the shout of rage. Psy-Ko moved effortlessly as she used her hair to snake into Anna’s aura and steal control of her arm from her. She directed it to the sword arm of the Scion of Life.
Ragnis shrieked in pain as his right arm was lopped off half way up his forearm. The limb fell as Anna watched in shock at what Psy-Ko had done. Psy-Ko laughed in joy as Sindri caught the limb and vanished. Then the hair that had encased Alan Quain detonated as if a bomb of pure power had gone off. It left Psy-Ko with only half of her hair left as she too shrieked in pain.
Psy-Ko floundered as she tried to focus once more. She was able to get just enough focus to see the rising form of Alan Quain, the purple mark of his psionic power that marked his eyes was now expanded out like with the edges splashed in black and white, like volcanoes of rage highlighting just how dangerous a force of nature he was becoming.
“Retreat Ragnis.” Alan said with an angry hiss.
Anna was still in shock. “Ragnis...”
“It’s alright kid.” Ragnis winced, “We both fell for it.” He vanished and left her to her confusion.
“I’m done pulling my punches with you.” Alan focused on Psy-Ko and the woman felt an intense pressure on her throat.
“No!” The high pitched and gleeful voice of Atropos said as she appeared and encased Psy-Ko in a wave of dark pulsing energy. “I think that will have to wait...” Then they vanished.
It took both Anna and Alan a few moments to establish that no major damage had been done, but there were now reports of UFOs fighting over dinosaurs. Which was going to definitely boost their tourism funding at the camp.
When they came down and went back inside Anna was crying into her pillow.
“Stupid question, but can I do anything?” Alan asked.
“I’m sorry, I should have listened.” Anna sniffled.
“She actually surprised me with that.” Alan said. “Hair powers. That’s quite a change.”
“Psychic hair powers.” Anna corrected him with a small laugh.
“That’s...” Alan blinked. “That’s just dumb and I know a woman who uses her normal hair in a similar way.”
“Will he be okay?” Anna asked.
Alan shrugged. “I mean according to them you took off half of the Wicked Bitch’s hand and she couldn’t fix that.”
Anna nodded. “I’m a danger to them.”
A flash outside their door and a knock later and Ragnis was opening the door and walking in. He was wearing a heavily metallic prosthetic.
“You could have waited for me to answer.” Alan said.
“You were going to let me in anyway.” Ragnis shrugged and showed off his hand. “No hard feelings, I got a new one.”
“Why does that look...” Anna stared at it. “Is that Vik’s work?”
“No, but it is from V’s reality.” Ragnis smiled. “Going to need some variants, but now that I have one that’s a part of me I can work with it.”
“But she has your hand.” Anna pointed out.
“Yeah, that’s concerning.” Ragnis nodded. “But don’t blame yourself, they clearly planned this. And we both had to fall for it.”
“I mean, I did say it was a trap.” Alan shrugged.
“Yeah but how did you know?” Anna asked.
“He is endlessly old.” Ragnis nodded.
Alan stared at the Scion.
“I already used that earlier.” Anna said.
“Daughters get a ‘being cute’ pass.” Alan growled.
“Look, I already told the others, I got this so don’t blame yourself.” Ragnis sighed. “She’s been a step ahead for so long.” Ragnis shook his head. “But I’m still keeping an eye on you. Let her meet the kids, get some rest, leave when you’re ready.”
Alan nodded. “Thanks.”
Rio stared at the Scion. “Will she target others?”
“Oh my god she’s trying to become Sarumon of Many Colors!” Anna gasped.
“Wonderful reference, but no it doesn’t work like that. At most that hand has a very small amount of what my concept of life is.” Ragnis shook his head. “Although now I have to have Perfection paint the image of her in a rainbow outfit just to annoy her.”
“Why would it annoy her?” Anna asked.
Ragnis sighed, “She’s Evil, not terribly original and quite frankly she should be easy to predict, but we keep missing something.”
“Her actual goal.” Alan sighed. “It’s been something so insane you can’t grasp.”
“Do you have any insight oh, old one?” Ragnis asked
Alan glared once again. “No, because again I’m not that desperately insane. Once this thing with Darkseid is over you got me for the seconds it takes to flatten her.”
“Or flatline her.” Anna added.
Alan and Ragnis both cast a concerned glance at Anna.
“She’s getting to me.” Anna sighed.
Rio stood up and sat next to Anna. “Would you like to pet my head again?”
Anna smiled and slowly patted Rio’s head.
“When in doubt, pet a friend.” Ragnis said, “You two relax, you’re safe. Even if the res of us aren’t.”
\\\\
First
Previous /// Next
SPOTIFY LIST!
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S: (looks around) Well...
Perfection: What?
S: I know one of you wants to say it.
Perfection: Say what?
S: Spaceballs, Lord Helmet.
Perfection: But there wasn’t a jamming scene.
S: I keep forgetting your sense of humor.
Wraith: (Walks in wearing an oversized helmet) “So, Lone Starr, now you see that evil will always triumph because good is dumb.”
DM: (Walks in wearing the same helmet)
Perfection: Also I’m a fan of Yogurt.
S: I worry about my mind sometimes.

Working on a fan fic; Record of Ragnarok: Redirected. Rather than Zeus building the roster, Set requests permission and gets approved. Using his connections, he builds a different roster and sets up Ragnarok to be 13 Fights themed around games, with special rules for each round save for Round 13.
The Games;
Red light-Green light
Bulls-eye
Snowdrift
Quickdraw
Make-believe- Heroes
Protect the Flag
Make Believe - Setting
Build
Ring-out
King of the Mountain
Wrestling
Make Believe - Villains
Bonus Round - The Fighters are not revealed until they enter the arena.
Fighters for Humanity Fighters for the Gods
Romulus Futsunushi
Saint Germain Hephaestus
Vlad Dracul Tepes Marduk
Paracelsus Lugh
Li Shuwen Dionysius
Leonardo Da Vinci Nuada
Tadakatsu Honda Takemikazuchi
Ghulam Butt Indra
Arash Batara Kala
Samson Tyr
Georgios Baldr
Johannes Lichtenaur Michael
????? ?????

I’m not sure if this counts as a spoiler anymore since the episode aired yesterday, but out of respect for those who may have busy personal lives I tagged it as such.
Now, I’ll admit up front that I’m biased because Jimbo is my all-time favorite drag queen (sorry, Jinkx and Bianca, but you’re still on the podium), but after last night I think she cemented herself among the all-time legends. Her Shirley Temple was one for the ages, and with it I think she just joined the pantheon of legendary queens in two iconic challenges. No joke, I would put her on the Drag Mount Rushmore of Snatch Game and the Talent Show.
I mean, far as Snatch Game goes, only six queens have won twice, and I would say Jinkx, Dela, Baga, and Jimbo were the best of the best. You could obviously make a case for Trinity and Ginger also and I wouldn’t argue, but that’s personally how I rank them.
But then I was talking to my bf and I realized that I would also put Jimbo on the Mount Rushmore of the Talent Show—pending of course if there’s a talent show on AS8 and how she does there. But for me, Casper the Bologna Ghost is up there with Tati’s spoken word, Juriji Der Klee from España 2 doing impeccable opera (“Carmen,” no less), and probably Anetra walking that fucking duck.
And honestly? Blu from UK vs. the World performing with Becky and Clair is not that far behind. (I know that’s a piping hot take, but idgaf. I laughed my ass off that whole performance and I could watch it on a loop all night. But that’s neither here nor there.)
Anyway. Just wanted to share some Jimbo-love and take a minute to recognize what an exceptional run she’s having. I’ve done a few meet & greets with Jimbo and she’s such a lovely person. You can tell she really appreciates her fans.
So here’s to Jimbo losing every lipsync on her way to the crown. Mama’s hungry for it, and she definitely deserves it.

This is a true story of my young life growing up with psychics and mediums and I believe it was a necessary experience for me to have, in order to adjust me to being a psychic and a medium, it is both a very fortunate, and an unfortunate story. I say it was fortunate because it gave me a strong foundation of knowing and believing in spirit, and a family that never doubted me when I began having psychic experiences, and of course it was unfortunate because I got to experience such things that most young children should not ever know.
I came to realise that spirits existed from a very young age because my grandmother, mother, uncle and his wife, my aunty, were all open to spirit in one way or another.
And we all lived together in the same home within the UK.
My cousin lived there too, he was my uncles son and he was 18 months older than me.
My earliest memories of the house was around the year 1967 when I was 3 years old. My mother had her back to me, she was sitting in a chair holding my new baby brother, and he was looking at me over my mothers shoulder and smiling, I was smiling back at him and I was very excited to have a baby brother, but sadly this joy didn't last long as he died tragically, when he was only 3 months old. Looking back now on that single memory, I often think of how old and intelligent his soul was for a young baby, to be aware of me at such a tender young age.
Has I mentioned, I was very young and the house we lived in was haunted by at least three spirits. I never actually saw any of these spirits myself, and I don't believe my cousin did either, but I heard lots of screams and screeches from my mother and my aunty, whenever they witnessed an apparition. !
My Grandmother was the sober, and less excitable of the adults, but even she had a few funny turns from time to time, and I often overheard stories of a young child that was seen playing in the garden (she was a girl) or of the red haired women that had been seen on the stairs.
On one occasion, I remember I was sitting playing in the kitchen, it was a bright summers day and my aunty and my mother were busy spring cleaning the house. The door in the kitchen lead into the lounge and there was an old wooden door to the right, when you entered the lounge that lead to the stairs leading to the upper bedrooms. The door to the kitchen and the stairwell door were both wedged open, as my aunty was busy brushing the stairs with the tall handled broom, the atmosphere was pleasant and happily busy, when out of nowhere, I heard a terrifying scream coming from my aunty, followed by running as she flew down the stairs, my grandmother was up and out of the kitchen and I overheard my aunty talking to my grandmother about seeing the lady's long red hair floating as she looked up from her brushing, just when it disappeared down the stairs.
There were a couple of other instances of the little girl being seen in the garden and the red haired lady on the stairs, I only ever heard my grandmother and my aunty talk about seeing them.
The most scary of all the incidents that ever happened in that house, happened when I was about 5 or 6 years old, and it had me terrified of the stairwell right on up until we finally moved out.
Before beginning this terrifying story, I do think I should mention that the house never had any creepy or eerie feeling and the overall atmosphere of the place was pleasant. I should also mention that my mother was a lazy selfish women, and this story is her experience alone, although, by default its mine too.
It was a terribly wet, windy day, it hadn't stopped raining all day long and now it was late in the afternoon and the shopping needed to be done for us all to have dinner. My uncle and aunty had moved out at this time, so there was just my cousin, me, my mother and my grandmother who was 70 years old that were still living there. My selfish mother did not want to go out in the pouring rain and so it was left to my grandmother to have to get ready to go, I did not want my grandmother to go out in the pouring rain, she was old and wind and the weather was very bad. I think I asked if I could go with her, but I wasn't allowed. I remember looking out the window at the grey sky and all the rain, worrying about my grandma, for what seemed like forever. then finally I saw her shadow arriving back and coming up our path, and I ran to the door to greet her.
When she got in the lounge she looked very ill and her poor face was ashen white, her coat and clothes were soaking wet and I was very sad to see her looking so ill, and my mother ran around to make hot tea and get her dry clothes and towels.
Much later that evening I'd fallen to sleep on the coach, and my mother was carrying me up the stairs to bed, she had nearly gotten up to the landing when I was awoken by my mother screaming for her mother on the top of the stairs.! I woke up and tried to look to see why my mother was screaming, but my mother held my head pressed in her chest, so I could not see anything, then I heard and saw my grandmother shouting and waving her umbrella in the air, has she came up the stairs to the rescue, My mother came down the stairs with me and that night we slept in the lounge on the sofa.
I don't recall when I heard them talking about that night, but I know I was still in the house as I was terrified to go up those stairs at night after hearing that, so I was still very young when I heard about it.
what I heard was terrifying. !!!
My mother said she was climbing the stairs the light on the landing was off, but there was a full moon out illuminating through the landing window, so it was bright enough to see as she walked up the stairs towards the landing, she said she heard someone breathing and has she looked up she saw a figure coming out of the spare room that was at the far end of our hallway, the figure was covered in hair right down to near the floor and she couldn't see its face, she saw it put it's hand on the banister rail as it was moving towards her, and she said the nails were long, yellow, and twisted around like a cork screw and she could hear the breathing getting loader as it was coming towards her
This is the point when I heard my mother scream for her mother, and she added that when grandma opened the stairway door it started to move back towards the room where it came from and finally disappeared just before grandma had gotten up the stairs, so grandma saw nothing.
I believe I overheard repeated pieces of conversations about this at different times, when grandma and my mother were talking in the lounge, unfortunately in those times the assumption was that younger children didn't really understand what you were talking about. but I did, and I was terrified I would see the same thing too, but no one ever did.
My grandmother concluded that it was her dead husband, my grandfather, that had scared my mother that evening for her wickedness of letting her poor old mother go out in such weather, and I have to agree, especially after having a psychic encounter with him myself years later.
It was not a terrifying encounter, but he warned me very softly but seriously of the dangers of dabbling with drugs and the effects it has on the soul when you pass, I understood then that my grandfather was the patriarch that kept the family all in check, and even after he'd passed on, he was still watching out for us, needless to say, but I headed his warning and never messed with drugs again.
It sounds very strange to say this, but besides all the things that happened, I did love that house and have some of my fondest memories there of when all my family were happily together, unfortunately there is only me, my cousin, and my mother left who remembers those days in that house.

I've noticed at times piles of items nowhere near me (ie looks like a looted a chest somewhere I've never been)
I just went to a new zone, looked at the map, and there was 3 orange stars spread out all over the place., all places I've never been before.
It's not like I was really close to someone fighting, I'm talking like 3 seperate legendaries at completely different locations nowhere near me
Is there some kind of funny bug as far as loot?

Hey there I just wanted to pass along this very fascinating look into the production of the Lost pilot which was at the time the most expensive pilot in TV history, and remains to this day the 6th most expensive pilot.
This is a very meticulously researched documentary with the thoughts and reflections of many people involved with the production who have seldom been able to tell their LOST stories. The story of the inception of LOST is linked heavily to the changing tides in the late 90's and early 2000's that went on over at Disney and this goes into all of that in a way I've never heard before! Truly fantastic work!
I think this documentary is particularly interesting in the light of the the revelations contained in Mo Ryan's new book "Burn it Down" for the lens it gives into the world of corporate pressure and the holding on company lines for certain long held bits of lost trivia.
This really is one of the best documentaries I've ever seen, and the insight it provides into television production I think is really special. Please check it out over on the legendary Kuhpunkt's Youtube page!
815 - The Story of the Lost Pilot