Just a follow up on my previous post, finally graduated with our 8lb baby girl! She missed a Mother’s Day birth but was born on the 13th at 1pm. She was originally due may 18th.
My water broke at 9am on Mother’s Day morning with an audible “pop” and gush of fluid. Contractions started around 20 minutes later, roughly 1-10 minutes. As we live very rurally - around one hour from the hospital - we packed up and got there. They examined me and confirmed amniotic fluid and the contractions pattern was fairly slow — they recommended we stay close to town but to come back around 9pm, or whenever they ramped up.
So I waddled back to the car with a towel laid down and we went for a drive, went home, fed our cows, had something to each and made it back around 8:15.
By then my contractions were even slower, and as we were approaching the 24 hour mark of my water breaking, the doctor told me they’d like to induce - and that I’d really need an epidural. I am absolutely TERRIBLE with needles, and my anxiety was through the roof, so they offered me two Ativan to calm down and sit through it. I won’t lie, the epidural process was awful - after the freezing while finding the right spot, there was a big “zing” like I’d touched an electric fence which scared the hell out of me, but once it was placed it was pretty heavenly. Contractions stopped hurting, they did the IV in my hand and I was able to sleep. I slept all night no problems with my partner staying up, and sometime during the morning they did a cervical check and said I was at 10cm and ready to push.
I wasn’t prepared for how long this stage would take. All told, it was 4 hours — by the end where her head was so low, I was really starting to give up - my contractions were constant but short so I could only give one or two good pushes each one. My partner at my head really made it easier to get by, I just listened to him and the doctor and tuned everything else out. On the last push, I didn’t feel much but relief when her head was out except some tearing - and they had to manipulate her shoulders which hurt, but once she was out and quickly on my chest I heard my partner cry and it was all sheer relief.
We have had some issues getting her to drink but that’s partly me learning too.
All in all I’m totally in love and despite a difficult and long labour, it was positive and baby girl is healthy, strong and happy. She’s been so quiet and given me lots of time to sleep and recoup.
Just wanted to say thanks again to this sub for all the help over the last 39 weeks!

Initial Contact: Description, First Impressions
I was outside, grinding corn, grinding it with the mano, over and over. I couldn't hear the screams of Chimalli, my older brother. He was sprinting, so fast, he tripped over the metate and spilled the corn. “Watch it, you fool!” I shouted, worried that I may get beaten. Nantli didn’t like food waste, and she wouldn’t care that it was foolish Chimalli’s fault. He was gasped for air, his hands on his knees. “Acalan… and I…were hunting…” He stopped and took a deep breath. “We were by the water when we saw this fish, a fish of great size. It wasn’t in the water, it was on top of it! It was brown, and atop it was 10 feet monsters with light skin!” I barked a laugh. “You’d better stop lying, Chimalli.” I decided to put the already ground corn back on the metate and take off the grass left in it. “I swear on the gods I'm not lying! I swear on Huitzilopochtli! Quetzalcoatl! All of them, I swear!”
I rolled my eyes, put the mano on the matate, and got up. “Show me what you’re talking about, fool.” Chimalli grabbed my hand tight and started running as fast as he could. I was whispering prayers to Patecatl, scared that what Chimalli was saying was true. We met up with Acalan and hid behind a bush near the lake. We could see the white-skinned people, and they were covered with weird clothing. They spoke loudly, in a peculiar way. They waved their hands around like birds and marched fiercely like jaguars. My heart was beating so loud, I was scared that Acalan and Chimalli would hear it. “They look so weird,” I whispered. The marched along, with their weird looking animals, amd were headed towards our causeway! Chimalli, Acalan and I exchanged a worried glance. Slowly and carefully, we all left our bush and headed back to the calpolli.
I went inside and saw Nantli sitting down, weaving. When she saw me, her face twisted in rage. “You dare spill the corn, leave the metate and mano unattended, and leave with the boys!? What were you even doing?” I shifted on my feet. Nantli was scary, but hse was understanding. Sometimes. “There are monsters on our land! They have big animals, a big brown fish that can swim ontop of water, and pale skin! The don’t speak Nahuatl, too!” i blurted out everything i saw, even if it didnt make sense. Chimalli was beside me, nodding his head so vigorously that it looked like it was about to fall off. Nantli got even more angry and said, “If you don’t stop lying this instant, i will call your Tahtli!” Chimalli and i both said in unison: NO!
“I swear on Huitzilopochtli! Tepeyollotl too! I even swear on Xolotl!” Chimalli cried as we were bothe getting pulled by the ear by Nantli. We were pulled outside, when we saw Tahtli. His face looked like he’d seen death. “Your foolish, lying children came to me talking nonsense about monsters with pale skin!” Nantli said, but Tahtli wasn’t fased. Tahtli was calmer then Nantli, and he was more wise. That was probably because he was a priest. However he was severe in punsiments. Nantli was all bark and no bite. Tahtli was bite, no bark, and when he did bite, it would last forever. He shook his head. “They're telling the truth. They are like us, but they have come from another land. Spain, they call it.” Nantli’s mouth was open so wide, I was trying my hardest not to laugh. She finally let go of me and Chimalli’s ear, her brows furrowing. “Did Moctezuma talk to them? Did you talk to them? How did they come here?” I side-stepped away from her, rubbing my ear. I exchanged a mischievous glance with Chimalli, and like a tiger, we left as fast and quietly as possible. In front of the door, Acalan was waiting for us impatiently and said, “Let’s go see them again. Maybe we’ll try to talk to them.” Chimalli raised his eyebrows. “Are you nuts!?” He exclaimed. I didn’t think it was a bad idea. Maybe we could understand their intentions. We never got to do that though. We never got to do anything.
Amoxtli
​
Spanish Conquest of the Aztecs
They kidnapped our ruler. The scary, stupid, dumb-looking monsters took our ruler. Foolish Chimalli brought it upon himself to save him. Nothing reasonable ever comes out of that stupid brain of his. He got killed doing it. Atleast he was brave. Braver than me, thats for sure. They have loud, long black tubes that shoot out fire. That killed him. Nantli hasn’t been the same, she doesn’t let me go to school anymore. Tahtli has fallen sick. Why is this happening? Is this a sign? Oh why, oh why? Oh gods, why?
I woke up, the rays of sunlight shining directly into my eyes. I got up, and to my right, was Acalan. He had decided to stay with us since all members of his calpolli had died unfateful deaths. His Nantli got sick, and his Tahtli and all of his other relatives died in the battle with the monsters. Whenever I start to pity myself, I remember Acalan. He’s got it worse. “Good morning,” I said. Acalan nodded, not uttering a word. He was looking outside, and his eyes had this aloof look to them. “Where’s Nantli?” I said, looking around the room. He mumbled something, but I couldn’t hear it. I sensed that he obviously wasn’t okay, so i scooched beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. “It's okay, just try not to think too much about it. I know how you feel, the gods will help us out.” I said softly. He shrugged my hand off his shoulder, and moved away from me. He was looking hard at the ground and whispered, “How can you be so sure?”
“Huh?”
“I said,” He looked at me square in the eye. “How can you be so sure? That’s what everybody’s been saying, but I'm getting tired of it. Face it, Amoxtli. The gods have done nothing for us. They’re just a bunch of stupid stories to scare us. My calpolli would still be here, alive and well. Those monsters wouldn’t have come here. The gods aren’t real.”
I sat there, stunned. What was he saying? He must be mad, because this isn’t the Acalan I know. The Acalan I know was so devout, more than I was. Maybe the grief got him bad. “And no, you don't know how I feel. You will never know how I feel. You ever think about jabbing a spear into your chest? You ever thought about jumping off the mountains, and drowning yourself underwater? You ever think of that? Huh?” Acalan continued. And before I knew it, he was sobbing. Acalan, the soon-to-be soldier who had never shed a tear, the boy whose heart was made out of stone, was crying. He was saying something in between sobs, but I couldn’t understand it. His face was buried in his hands. The truth is, no, I have never thought about any of those things. I didn’t know that Acalan was this affected by it. Maybe I’m the foolish one.
A few hours later, I told Nantli about what Acalan had been saying, except the blasphemous things. That brought out a side of her that i never knew she had. Her face softened, and she nodded with understanding. She comforted Acalan, giving him words of reassurance. Nantli sent me out to get water, since Chimalli wasn’t here to do it anymore. Every passing day I miss him more and more. As i walked through the village, I heard loud, bone-rattling screams. The monsters were pushing and shoving their way into the houses, and coming out with valuables. I stood there, frozen in place watching it all happen. A tall monster stood in front of me, and all I could do was stand there, looking stupid as we both stared at each other. He scowled and grabbed my bucket, throwing it on the floor. “Hey…!” I said quietly. He kicked my bucket and continued walking. I don’t know why I didn’t do anything. I don't know why I just stood there, acting clueless.
I left the bucket and ran, far far away, near the lake. I sat down and dipped my feet in the water, trying to calm down. I saw Acalan in the distance, sauntering towards me. He finally arrived, and joined me, dipping his feet in the lake. We greeted each other, exchanging awkward small talk and sat in silence. “Maybe this is how the world will end.” He said suddenly. I nodded. If that's the case, then I wish it would've waited sooner. I had so much to do, and so much to see, I wanted to be a doctor, and raise warriors. If the world really is ending, I would just be a foolish, scared girl with no importance. Chimalli never got a chance to be the warrior he’s always dreamed of. “If the world is ending, then it's a shame that you won’t be a warrior.” I sighed. “I don't want to be a warrior.” He said sharply. “Isn't that what you always wanted? To be a warrior?” He shook his head vigorously. I furrowed my brows. “Then what do you want to be?”
“Nothing.” He said. Nothing? How could someone not want to be anything? I decided to let it be, and we sat in silence once again.
-Amoxtli
Outcome of the conquest on Aztec Society:
I'm starting to realize that what Acalan said two years ago was true. The gods did nothing. Tahtli passed, and Nantli is sick, she's in horrible condition. I caught Acalan trying to hurt himself twice. He’s been in bad condition as well, even to the point where he hallucinates about his Nantli and his Tahtli and his Achcāuhtli. It's really bad for him. If the gods really cared, they’d put a stop to this madness. If they really cared, we’d be flourishing, and winning against those damned Spaniards. I'm starting to get sick too. At this point, if you don't die in war, you die of sickness, if you don't die of that, you die of starvation. I’ve learned some Spanish, and I'm thinking of converting to whatever their religion is. A few priests came to the village, rambling on and on about their religion. I understood a few words, but not much though.
“You’re so naive, you know that?” Acalan said when I told him about the new religion. I rolled my eyes. “You could give this a chance. Maybe their god will help us.” He shook his head. “Never. If Huitzilopochtli, all-powerful, god of war, can't even help us,” He said in a mocking tone, “Then how will another help us? It's all the same.” I shrugged. “It's worth a shot.” Just then, I heard Nantli cough a hoarse, horrible cough. I jumped up and quickly went to her. I gave her a cup of water and some piptzahuac. After a long coughing fit, she finally caught her breath and said, “I heard what you and Ancalan were saying. He is a bad influence.” My heart felt like it would leap right out of my mouth. Despite this, I kept my calm and tried not to show any emotion. “What?” I said, trying to act clueless. Looking back, it was a stupid thing to do since Nantli already heard everything.
tbc

"Tony, grab that bag from the trunk," Gus instructed firmly. Tony promptly exited the vehicle to retrieve the bag while Gus fumbled for a cigarette in his shirt pocket, then patted his pockets for a lighter. "Vinny, you got a light?"
Vinny reached behind the seat to ignite Gus' cigarette. "Thanks," Gus murmured, taking a few deep puffs. Tony returned to the driver's seat, presenting a black plastic bag secured at the handles. "Open it," Gus commanded.
Tony untied the bag and peered inside, glancing at Gus through the rear-view mirror.
"Give it to him," Gus ordered. Tony handed the bag to Vinny, who immediately inspected its contents.
"Stash those in your pockets. Expect a call from me around one. If I don't call...," Vinny nodded in acknowledgment.
Vinny exited the car, leaving the black bag in his place on the seat. They waited a few minutes to ensure Vinny got inside safely.
"To Pinucci's?" Tony asked as he began driving to the corner.
Gus took a few more drags of his cigarette before replying, "To Pinucci's."
Tony turned right toward Pinucci's Pizzeria.
"I don't know what the hell happened," Gus muttered, his voice barely audible as he gazed out the window.
"Can I tell you what I heard?" Tony asked, prompting Gus to roll down the window to discard his cigarette butt.
"Doesn't matter. What happened wasn't supposed to happen, but it did," Gus said sternly. "I don't know what's going on. All I know is I got sent for..." Gus suddenly sat up. "Stop!"
Tony slammed on the brakes, startled. Gus leaped out of the car, Tony following closely. Rushing toward an alley in the middle of the block, Gus yelled, "Rossi?!"
Tony grabbed Gus' arm, urging him to calm down. "There's nobody there, Gus." But Gus persisted, convinced of Rossi's presence.
"Come on, Gus," Tony said, guiding him back to the car still idling in the middle of the street.
"I swear he was there this time," Gus whispered, embarrassed.
"It's alright, Gus. Let's handle business," Tony reassured him, opening the rear passenger door for Gus to get in. They continued toward Pinucci's in silence.
Tony parked in front of Pinucci's. "You ready?" he asked.
Gus sighed as Tony exited the car to open the door for him.
As Gus stepped out, he looked up at the glowing red "Pinucci's Pizzeria" sign. "You know," Gus began, "this place used to feel like home." He chuckled to himself. "Now, I see it's just a graveyard."
"Not everybody in the graveyard is dead, Gus," Tony offered, trying to comfort him.
"Yeah," Gus said, meeting Tony's gaze. "Thank you, Tony. For everything. You and Vinny: the best things to ever happen to me." Gus's eyes welled up, but he held back tears.
"If I could go in there with you, Gus..."
"I know," Gus interrupted, smiling and patting Tony on the shoulder.
Under the red glow of the sign, they stood, staring into each other's eyes, both fighting back tears. Gus took a deep breath and extended his hand to Tony. Tony wiped his eyes and shook Gus' hand.
Gus smiled, then turned to walk into Pinucci's. At the door, he paused, "Tony?" His reflection clear on the tinted windows. "Go home. I'll call you later..."
With that, Gus pushed open the door and disappeared into the darkness inside.

"Himiko?" Kokichi knocked on the door to Himiko and Tenko's room later that night. Himiko had taken a long nap after such a disappointing day. But, before she fell asleep, she reflected deeply on what Kokichi had told her. She had to admit that he was right, that she needed to a better attitude about herself. But, how to do that, she didn't know. She suddenly remembered his words: You should be smart, confident, and capable of doing things your way. Her way? What was her way, exactly?
"Himiko?" Kokichi whispered a little louder. Himiko opened her eyes, hearing Kokichi calling out to her. She scrambled out of bed and went over to answer the door. Kokichi smiled at her with his usual cheeky grin. "Hey, sleepyhead! Are you still planning on selling cookies?" Himiko took a deep breath and nodded. Kokichi had given her some courage to actually try things and take chances, to try and overcome self-doubt.
"Yeah. I'm ready," she said. There was still a part of her that didn't want to, but she forced that part of her into silence. She lifted her chin and smiled at him. "I'm ready, Kokichi." Kokichi smiled back at her.
"Alright, Monkey Buns!" he cheered, giving her a high five and then a hug. "Same place?"
"Alright," Himiko nodded. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. She remembered what Kokichi had told her earlier about being smart and confident her way. "But, on the way over there, can we stop by my, um..." She paused to whisper. "...secret lair? "
"Ooooh?" Kokichi murmured with a curious smile. "Yeah, we can stop by." Himiko nodded and retreated back into her room to grab the two tin bowls of cookies she had baked with Three and Ten.
"Nyeh...okay, I'm ready," Himiko said. Kokichi took her hand in his, and the two crept downstairs. Some of the others were still in the dining room eating dinner, so Kokichi and Himiko had to leave through the front door to get to Himiko's secret magic room under the gazebo. Kokichi stood outside to keep watch while Himiko went inside her magic room. Once inside, she went for her magical dream powder bottle and poured some of its purple, sparkly contents into a small vial, hiding it in one of her jacket's pockets. Then, she met back up with Kokichi.
"Now I'm ready," she said.
"Okie-dokie!" Kokichi replied, taking the tin bowls from Himiko to hold them for her. "Let's go, HimikoCocoa Bean!" They then hurried over to D.I.C.E. headquarters.
"Boss!" Four said, jumping up from the couch. "And Boss Lady!"
"Hey, Ichiro," Kokichi and Himiko replied.
"Wanna hear a song that I heard on the radio?" Four asked. He cleared his throat, and began singing without waiting for a response. "If you like piña coladaaaaas, and getting caught in the rai-"
"Okay, Ichiro, that's enough," Kokichi interrupted, wincing from Four's terrible voice.
"Urgh...thank you!" Five exclaimed as she wrapped Kokichi's cape around him. After Three placed Kokichi's hat on his head, she turned to Himiko.
"So, Himiko, did you sell a lot of cookies?" she asked eagerly. Himiko gave her an apologetic look and shook her head. Three's shoulders slumped.
"Oh..." she said softly.
"What? Why?" Ten asked. "Did they not like them? Because I put all my blood, sweat, and tears into those things! Er...well, not literally...duh."
"Yeah, I hope not!" Two exclaimed, sticking his tongue out in disgust. "I bet there are people in this world who actually do stuff like that!"
"Nee-heehee...I know a very horny someone who'd do something like that," Kokichi said.
"The tin bowls are still so full!" Three said, her voice dripping with disappointment.
"It's not really the cookies that people didn't like, Keiko," Himiko said. "It was because of me."
"What exactly do you mean by that?" Nine asked.
"Well, I'm not really popular at school to begin with," Himiko said. "But, I wasn't really trying my best to sell them because I didn't think I could."
"Ouch," Six muttered.
"Oh, well...still!" Three huffed. "They could have at least tried your cookies, anyways! Those...those...clowns! " Then she turned to nobody in particular. "No offense, me," she mumbled to herself before turning back to Himiko.
"Hey, no offense to the rest of us, either!" Four said.
"Should we take offense?" Nine asked. "It's not like we're actual professional clow-"
"We get it, Hideyo!" everyone but Himiko interrupted simultaneously.
"Nyeh, well...anyways, thanks to Kokichi, I've decided to try again," Himiko said, giving Kokichi a shy smile.
"Aww, HimiCocoa Bean, you're making me blush!" Kokichi teased, wrapping his arm around her waist. "But, I only get half the credit. You should give yourself credit, too!"
"And you should give us those cookies," Four said, pointing to the tin bowls in Kokichi's hand.
"Himiko, are you still going to sell these?" Kokichi asked. Himiko thought for a moment. She remembered what Tsumugi said about chocolate chip cookies being plain and boring.
"No," she finally answered. "Actually, I've decided to go with Ten's plan from earlier."
"Right! Um...wait, what plan was that again?" Ten asked.
"The plan to make the snickerdoodles," Himiko said.
"Oh, yeah!" Ten remembered, a grin crossing his face.
"But, I wanna add a secret ingredient of mine," Himiko said.
"I hope it's not blood, sweat, and tears," Two said, shuddering.
"Why not?" Seven asked with a creepy smile. "Don't you like that salty, metallic flavor in your cookies?"
"Ew! Yuck! Kokichi, make her stop!" Five said, covering her ears.
"Tsukiko, don't make me tell Emi to get Mr. Sparkles," Kokichi warned. Seven hid under a blanket.
"No, please. Anything but that accursed pink and plushy unicorn!" she hissed. Five grinned smugly at her.
"Can we help you bake again, Himiko?" Three asked hopefully.
"Nyeh...of course!" Himiko answered.

"Neat-o! Let's get started!" Ten said, rubbing his hands enthusiastically. Kokichi nodded to Himiko encouragingly, and she followed Three and Ten to the kitchen. They soon got started on the batter. Himiko removed the vial of dream powder from her pocket.
"Oooo! What is that stuff?" Three asked, entranced by the purple, glittery powder.
"Hopefully the thing that'll win over any potential customers," Himiko answered before pouring the powder into the mixture. She mixed the batter until it became a shiny, glittering harmony of many colors.
"Holy Constantinople-y!" Ten exclaimed. "What the heck kind of secret ingredient is that?!"
"The batter looks so...pretty!" Three breathed in awe. "It's so...shiny and sparkly!" Then, she lowered her voice. "Is this...some of your magic, Himiko?"
"Nyeh...that's right," Himiko nodded.
"I know this is might sound like a dumb question, but...are you allowed to do that?" Ten asked.
"Nobody at school knows about my magic except for Kokichi," Himiko said. "So, technically, it's not not allowed. And besides, Kokichi said that I need to be smart and confident my way. And magic is my way of doing just that."
Part Eight
Sunday afternoon. Himiko took a deep breath, deeply breathing in the warm air as a gentle breeze flowed around her. Today, she felt lucky. She stood behind her table at the front of the school. Above her was a more colorful, glittery sign she and Three had worked on with the word, "Snoozydoodles," written in swirly letters. Hopefully it would be enough to bring in some customers. Her snickerdoodles were laid out on three large trays in front of her so that the other students could see their colorful and sparkly design.
"Hiya, Himiko!" came a cheerful voice. Himiko looked up and was surprised to see Three.
"Keiko?" she whispered. "Nyeh...what are you doing here?"
"I decided to come and cheer you on...and to make sure the turd buckets here buy your cookies," Three replied. "I put some love and special care into those cookies, and I didn't bust my tail just to have nobody buy them!"
"Nyeh...but...Ten and I worked on them, too," Himiko pointed out. "And I put my 'special ingredient' in them."
"I know," Three said. "But, I feel like if I worked hard on something, either by myself or in a group, I'd like for the world to see it, that's all."
"I understand," Himiko said with a small smile. "Wait...this is supposed to be a competition between me and Kokichi! I don't think he'd appreciate you helping me out, especially since I should be doing this myself."
"Well, I'll just be here for emotional support, then!" Three said. Himiko smiled gratefully and nodded.
"I guess that's okay," she said. " Thanks, Keiko. I like your outfit, by the way." Three scanned her outfit proudly. Instead of her D.I.C.E. uniform, she wore an oversized, cream-colored fluffy sweater over a short, pink ruffled skirt. She wore a pair of white tights with some loose pink socks and a pair of black and white checkered lolita shoes with pink straps. In her hair were pink bows over each pigtail.
"Eeee! Thank you!" she squealed happily. "It's not very often I get to go out in cutesy clothes like this, unless I'm undercover! Well...I guess you might say I'm going undercover right now, but...eh, whatever."
"Speaking of which, why are your shoes checkered?" Himiko asked. "Won't that give you away? Part of the reason why people know your organization is because of the checker pattern scarves...which makes me wonder how people haven't suspected Kokichi being part of...you-know-what."
"Heehee...I call that the 'Sailor Moon Effect,'" Three giggled. "But, anyway, when members of the organization are wearing casual clothes, we have to wear some article of clothing with a black and white checkered pattern to let other members know our affiliation. The beauty of it is that there are people not affiliated with us who wear checker patterned clothing, so it gives us a chance to blend in as if we're just regular people. That's why we have a codeword to tell the difference between members and the 'reggies.'"

"What's the codeword?" Himiko asked. Three leaned in closer to Himiko.

"'Funny business,' " she whispered.
"Nyeh...that's actually really cool," Himiko admitted with a smile.
"Yeah! You should really join, Himiko!" Three said. "I think you'll have lots of fun!"
"Fun with what?" asked Tenko, suddenly appearing with Angie and Tsumugi behind her. She had a frown on her face and marched right up to Three. "Himiko, who's this girl, and what's she trying to get you to join? WAIT!! Is this girl the friend you were talking about?! The one who helped you bake cookies yesterday?!"
"Yeah," Himiko nodded.
"Hey! I recognize you!" Angie said. "You're one of the girls who rescued Himiko from that crazy girl many months ago!" Three brightened.
"Yeah! That's me!" she said.
"Tuh...I could have rescued Himiko, you know," Tenko huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at Three.
"Well...why didn't you?" Three asked.
"Urgh...!" Tenko scoffed. "Who do you think you are?!"
"I'm Michika!" Three lied, using one of her aliases. "I'm here to support Himiko with her cookie sale!"
"She doesn't need your support," Tenko said, stepping in between Three and Himiko. "Himiko already has me! Right, Himiko?"
"Umm..." Himiko mumbled.
"Of course you do!" Tenko interrupted.
"But...you didn't even let her finish," Three said.
"I didn't have to," Tenko said. "I already knew what she was thinking because we're best friends."
"Well...then...if you're her best friend, why dont'cha buy a cookie?" Three suggested craftily.
"Hmph! I will!" Tenko scoffed and turned to Himiko. "How much for a cookie, Himiko?"
"Nyeh...same as before," Himiko answered. Tenko paid ¥500 and grabbed a shimmery, glittering light green snickerdoodle from one of the trays. "Ooo, these are pretty, Himiko! Did you bake them all by yourself?"
"No, um...Michika helped me again," Himiko answered. Tenko glared at Three and flipped her hair at her.
"Well...they're okay, then," she said haughtily. "But, they're extra special because you helped, Himiko!"
"What are these cookies called, Himiko?" Tsumugi asked, scrutinizing a glittering blue cookie.
"Nyeh...they're called 'Snoozydoodles,'" Himiko answered. "They're snickerdoodles, but a special kind of snickerdoodles."
"Oooo! Why are they called 'Snoozydoodles?'" asked Angie.
"You have to eat them right before going to sleep to find out," Himiko answered mysteriously. Tenko hovered her cookie in front of her mouth.
"Oh! So, I have to eat this right before bed?" she asked.
"That's right," Himiko nodded.
"Aw, that's so creative, Himiko!" Tenko cried in adoration. "You're really clever, too! I bet you thought of the name!" Three rolled her eyes in annoyance. Himiko provided a little baggy for Tenko to put her cookie in, and provided some for Angie and Tsumugi, as well, after they had paid for their cookies.
"Thank you, Himiko," Tsumugi said.

"Yes! Yes! Thank you, Himiko!" Angie chirped.
"Well...I guess we'd better try out the other cookies," Tsumugi said. "Everyone else said they'd have different flavors of cookies, too. Although, I don't think I'll try Kokichi's after what happened yesterday. I can plainly still feel the burn on my tongue."
"Hmm...I thought his cookies were divine!" Angie exclaimed. "I have never felt such an intense rush of heat before! Especially in a cookie!"
"Leave it up to a degenerate male to bake something so...horrible! " Tenko spat. Three raised a brow at her.
"Degenerate male?" she repeated. She didn't like hearing her boss being referred to that way.
"Yeah! Males are all scum of the Earth!" Tenko said. "Kind of like...best friend stealers."
"I wasn't trying to steal your best friend," Three said, fed up with Tenko.

"Huh...why did you assume I was talking about you? " Tenko asked. "You know what happens to people who assume things, don't you?"

"They end up knocking all 32 teeth out of the person accusing them of assuming things?" Three replied, trying to keep her cool.
"And you're violent!" Tenko shouted. "You're clearly a bad influence on Himiko!" Three stared at her in disbelief, creating an awkward silence to linger in the air.
"Well, um...I guess we should be going then," Tsumugi said, hurriedly yanking Angie away. "C'mon, Angie. Tenko? Are you coming?"

"No. I think I'll stay right here and help Himiko, since she clearly needs my support," Tenko said, glowering at Three.
"Tenko..." Himiko sighed in exasperation, but Three merely smiled sweetly at Tenko.
"Oh, my gosh! Where'd you get your outfit?" she asked. Tenko looked down quizzically at her outfit.
"W-Why...do you want to know?" she replied with suspicion.
"It's just so pretty!" Three replied. "Are you, like, the Ultimate Princess, or the Ultimate Cheerleader, or something?"
"Um...n-no...I'm the Ultimate Aikido Master," Tenko stammered as a small blush appeared on her face.
"Oh, wow! That's even better!" Three exclaimed. "I bet you give those...degenerate males...what they deserve all the time!" The hardened look on Tenko's face from before disappeared.
"You bet I do!" she said proudly.
"Oh...I wish I could be like you!" Three breathed. "You're, like, my hero! I bet you're a hero to girls everywhere!" Tenko lowered her head bashfully, blushing like crazy.
"N-No...I'm not all that...great," she sputtered.
"I bet you'd do anything for girls, huh?" Three asked.
"Oh, yes!" Tenko answered. "So long as you aren't a degenerate male, you're a friend of mine!"
Says the girl who just accused me of stealing her best friend, Three thought to herself. "Hooray! I'm happy to hear that! But...to tell you the truth, I can't believe you just ditched your other friends. They were girls, after all, and you just let them walk right into the school where they could be potential prey for those boys-er...I mean, degenerate males." Tenko gasped with realization.
"Oh, my gosh! You're so right!" she cried. "But...what about Himiko?"
"I'll look after her," Three said. "You trust me, right? I am a girl after all."
"Ohhh...well, okay," Tenko said. Then, she smiled. "I'll trust you, Michika! Take care of Himiko!"
"Oh, I will!" Three said. "Bye! Goodbye!" Tenko waved goodbye, leaving Himiko and Three alone. Three exhaled. "Finally, she's gone!" Himiko stared at her in amazement.
"Nyeh...that was incredible!" she cried. Three shrugged modestly.
"Yeah, I guess I picked up a little bit of manipulation skills from the boss," she said. "He's way better at it than I am, though! That girl was so annoying, by the way! Is she seriously your best friend?!"
"Well, yeah, I guess," Himiko answered. "She wants to support and protect me all the time."
"Sounds more like she wants to breastfeed you, or wipe your butt after you poop," Three said in disgust. She and Himiko shuddered at the thought. "Well, anyways, now that 'Tin Cup' is gone, let's put you on the cookie map!"
"Right!" Himiko said, and gave Three a high five.

(I made this a while ago on a old account and just remembered about it so I decided to post it here hopefully y'all enjoy)
I don't have long. I go on walks in the woods before bed nothing too creepy happens. Well one time I head a wolf so I had to run didn't go back in the woods for a few week. But then I started my nightly walks it was the middle of winter and unlike most stories there was no snow. So I was walking around just exploring I had a bottle of water and a pack of peanuts and some chips. I usually walk for a hour or two so I was at the 45 minute mark of my walk when I heard what sounded like a stick being stepped on.
I stopped form a moment and waited to see if I head any thing else sounded like somebody walking. Not here's something u should know I don't ever see anybody else out here unless if it somebody who needs me and came looking for me. So hearing this was creepy I started walking a little faster but trying to stay quiet so who or what ever was out there didn't find me. I wouldn't go back cus it sounded to my right and a little behind me I turned around and kept looking over my shoulder but I didn't see anything.
It did stop for a bit and after 15 minutes I thought I would head back plus it was starting to get dark so I kept a kinda fast pace just in case. It took about 25 minutes before I head it again but this time it sounded close and was back the way I came and now to what's now my right what what would of been my left earlier. So I when into a speed of someone skipping and after about what felt like 3 minutes I head a small quiet moan. It sounded like a old man that had fallen and was in pain. I stopped hoping no body was hurt I listened and head it again it's wasn't louder or quieter it sound the same direction away.
The voice called and said simiss who ever there please help me I fell and I thing I twisted my ankle. It took me a moment to think and called out. Are you ok do u need me to get help I don't have my phone but I'll run and get help it mite take me a moment.
It took the man a moment before I head.
No please don't leave me out here I don't want to be eaten by a bear or wolf's please I was out looking for my dog I haven't seen her in a few days and I came looking I head u and I was trying to ask if you seen her.
I was about to answer him but then I remembered something a few nights ago I was out for my usual walks a butt earlier in the day than usual. I was bored that day and had nothing to do anyway I was walking around when I smelled something It Small like death I thought a wolf or bear had killed something so I went towards the smell carefully not to be head by any animals just In case one was eating. What I saw scared me it was a dog it was black with white areas on it not sopts but just ares of white. What I say made me pulk the fruit snacks I was eating while walking don't worry I was putting the trash in my pocket.
Anyway what u saw was the dogs guts and all our own the ground blood everywhere and bugs on and Inside the thing it was disgusting I was starting to tear up I didn't know what to do but the thing that scared me was that it looked like it was ripped open and bite marks was on its neck and on its back it was missing it left front leg and back right leg.
I took a picture of it before leaving that was 5 days ago now back to the old man. I asked him what color his dog was and he said.
It was black and patches of white fur.
And before I said anything else I realized something was worng about his story he said his dog went missing 3 days ago but the corpse of the dog I found was 5 days ago. Meaning eather there was two different dogs that where black and white or this guy was lying. Eather way I had my guard up just in case. I know I didn't mention this before but I always bring a pocket knife with me just in case. I asked the man if he was alone he said.
Yes but my wife will be worried if I'm not back soon.
It was almost completely night if I didn't figure this out soon then it would be harder to get help with it being dark and the animals that will come out. I ask the guy if he lived hear by and if I could get his wife and this is what he said.
NO! i-i-i m-mean I live a bit away about 37 minutes u mite not "come back in time". And I don't want to "be" by my self for to long do please ( now crying ) PLEASE COME HERE.
I started to become scared he sounded louder and a bit closer and mader. And before I respond some caught me off guard his voice when he said.
Come back in time. And be.
His voice sounded lowers and not of a old man. I took 2 steps back and yelled to him. ILL BE Bring HELP IF I RUN IT SHOULDN'T TAKE ME LONG. ... ... ... I didn't go hear anything for a what felt like 27 seconds I heard a loud deep scream. It only took my a second before I booked it I hard running behind me I only looked back once and that all I need to run faster. What u saw was a haft rotten corpse of a old man running after me his limbs was moving at odd angle as the Thing ran it looked like it was losing ski. It had a missing eye and a few teeth missing. I ran and ran I heard it getting closer and closer. After what felt like forever of running I remember I had a knife
I took the knife in my hand I didn't have good ame so if I wanted to slow it down I had to get close. ... Way to close. So after a little bit more of running I turned around with my knife in hand and blade open. When I turned around I saw nothing I knew I heard it running but I had ran for a good bit so it mite of stopped with out me knowing. But I didn't stick around cus I thought I heard leafs breaking so I started running again after a bit I got back to my house and took no time unlocking the door and going inside and locking the door but I still didn't feel safe so I went around my small home and looked I. All the rooms after that I made sure all the doors were locked and locked all the windows and closed the blinds and certains.
I heated me up some left over pizza I had and went to my room and watched some YouTube. I didn't sleep that night the for the next few safe to say the I haven't went out at the for the next few days after a week I started to be able to sleep I work form home so I didn't leave unless I had to which wasn't often just to get food/drink's/mail now for the main reason I'm telling this story I watch the news form time to time and on this night I was watching it while scroll through TikTok when I heard on the new they found a missing guy dead on the road.
Now I turned up the volume just u don't hear this alot atlest I don't want scared me the most that it was the guy that was chasing me when I say the my jaw dropped then I found out it was the road about 5 miles away from my house. Let's just say that I got me some food and water my knife block full of all of it's knives and locked me in my bedroom and the other door leading to my baft room the thing that terrified me the most is the big window in my bedroom room this is not a tiw storie house so if anything could happen.
Now the reason I'm waiting all this I heard tapping on my window and knocking on my front door ik it's that thing and I now know what it is I saw it's shadow on my window certain it had a human like body with what looked like a deer skull I'm being hunted by a wendigo and ik I will died if this is my last time hear I just want y'all to know if u ever hear walking in the woods RUN cus I don't have long to live.

I moved into this apartment in August 2023 and the complex was sold at the end of 2023 so we got a new management company.
• January we got a general notice that every tenant would have to vacate our units for electrical upgrades to comply with their insurance. They said take all valuables etc.
They gave us three options: 1. Break the lease for no fee and move out. They raised the rent on those units several hundred after people left. 2. Move out with family for two weeks and get prorated rent. 3. Move into a furnished guest suite in a similar unit that had the electrical work completed. Pay your full rent for the time you’re there.
We went with option 3 since it had been less than 6 months that we had a big move and couldn’t shoulder more moving costs. We also don’t have family to live with for two weeks nearby. We WFH so we asked if there would be wifi and desk furniture. They said yes.
They gave us a day an a half to move in to the guest suite. Gave us access on a Saturday at 3pm and we had to be out by early Monday morning. We move into the guest suite and it’s Amazon furniture with no desks. Fine. We made it work.
The internet goes out one day and I go speak with front office since it’s their account, the front office lies and says there’s an outage. Turns out they forgot to pay the Comcast bill on their guest suites. Amazing. I had to take time off work that day to force the front office to actually help. I got it fixed and was able to work the next day.
They finish the electrical work ahead of schedule during the workweek. But Our “temporary” lease for the guest suite gave us until Saturday to move back in. Front office said “no rush” to move back in.
Front office calls us at 6pm on Friday demanding we finish moving back in on Saturday by 9am which was never agreed on. Our temporary lease doesn’t give us a time. It just gives us a start and end date. We finish by 11am and the front office staff hasn’t arrived for work yet(2 hours late) so whatever.
I send them basic email to document that we’ve vacated and have moved back in to our unit. They don’t document anything via email or paper trail so I thought I’d do their job for them lol.
Monday morning, three management staff I’ve never met show up at the door to inspect my apartment of the work that was completed a week ago. I said you didn’t give any notice and they laugh it off sheepishly. They left quickly after not taking their shoes off in a carpeted unit with a collection of shoes by the door lol. I know I’m being petty but I was so tired and annoyed when they showed up.
Not to mention the loud and constant construction noise for the last 3-4 months as they have to tear into walls in neighboring units
I’ve reviewed tenant laws and I don’t think there’s much recourse for this situation, aside from lack of notice. Next time they pull that I won’t let them in and request a notice.
I just really needed to vent somewhere because I feel like I’ve had no peace or privacy for the majority of time we lived here.

Before I start, this story is long, and I'll repeat myself a lot; my first goal is to get what's inside me out and vent, so please be patient and if you respond be respectful, please.
I (29M) came out of the closet about two years ago, but living in the environment I live in, I couldn't be as open as I would have liked until recently. During that time, I lost a lot of weight and gained confidence in myself, which made it easier for me to open up to the world that interested me. I'm not someone with much experience when it comes to sex, but I've had my adventures, mostly with women, but once I accepted who I am, my experiences shifted towards men. In recent years, I've had fleeting relationships and two relationships that lasted more than four months, but in recent months, I've been puzzled by a situation I've had to live through, and that's why I'm writing this here, to see if the perspective of strangers helps me clarify my thoughts a bit.
I don't consider myself ugly; I can even be attractive, both physically and in personality, but insecurities have affected me since I was very young. This story begins in September of last year when I started working at a new company. The workgroup consists of about 30 colleagues, some of whom I knew from before. But the story focuses on a guy (32M), let's call him Stephen. I must mention that he didn't attract me at first; he's not my physical type. But around November, as I got to know him, I was attracted to his personality, which surprised me because I'm usually a very superficial person (I know I need to work on that), and it's not very common for me to be attracted to someone because of their personality.
Over time, I formed a very close group of friends, who told each other everything that happened in our daily lives, so it was only a matter of time before I mentioned to them that I was attracted to Stephen. The three colleagues, Anna (37F), Violet (36F), and Lily (20F), were happy for me and told me that the interest seemed mutual because they thought the guy was getting very close to me. I liked that because I had already noticed that the jokes or comments I made to him received the same response, or at least he played along.
We reached December, we organized a dinner with some colleagues, and both he and I attended. By then, my colleagues had been pressuring me a lot to tell him something, but since we only had a relationship at work, I didn't dare to take the step; it didn't seem right to me. I also mentioned my situation to my friends, who could give me another point of view, but they all told me that not seeing the relationship we had made it difficult for them to evaluate it. I must mention that all this was happening while I was seeing another guy, John (27M), in a stable relationship for 6 months.
At the dinner and at the after-party, Stephen didn't leave my side. If I went out to smoke, he came out with me even though he doesn't smoke; if I had a drink, he accompanied me to the bar. My colleagues were ecstatic because they saw that this was the night something was going to happen. Well, it didn't. Between my relationship with John and the nerves of the moment, I didn't dare to do anything. But I already saw clearly that with those ideas in my head, the relationship with John was unfeasible; he was no longer my priority. We broke up during the following week.
I was already going all out for Stephen; I was attracted to his personality, to what he could offer me in a relationship. The week before Christmas arrived. We had a one-week break from work, and I didn't want to leave with doubts on vacation. On Tuesday of that week, I went to talk to him about the subject, determined, but when I started talking, I saw that we weren't alone, and I didn't dare to continue. I didn't dare again until Friday; he insisted that I finish saying what I had to tell him, which excited me even more because in my head, what I wanted to tell him seemed obvious.
Friday came, the last day for me to tell him something. When there was an hour left to finish the workday, I saw that we were alone, and I approached him. I was very nervous, I even stuttered, but I practically told him that I found him a very interesting guy and that I would like to get to know him outside of work, to which he responded that he was flattered but that he was not homosexual. It crushed me. I tried to disguise it by saying that he had become a very important support at work and that I wouldn't want this to ruin that relationship; he accepted it.
I left there as quickly as possible, holding back tears as best I could (yes, very teenage everything). I met up with my colleagues and told them what had happened. They supported me, but they kept saying that they didn't believe Stephen, that the relationship we had wasn't just friendship. I didn't give importance to that; at that moment I just wanted to forget what had happened. It was one of the toughest Christmases I've ever had. My family didn't know anything, my friends outside of work didn't understand it, and my work colleagues kept insisting that I needed to clarify things even more with him. My head was spinning.
I decided that I was going to fulfill what I said to Stephen, that the work relationship would continue as it had until that moment. The first week was weird and tough, I won't deny it, but I handled it quite well. I insisted that my colleagues avoid the subject, but it was impossible not to see the looks every time Stephen and I talked. Over time, we've returned to jokes, and although there's attraction on my part, I've come to understand that nothing will ever happen between us. Or so I thought. The last month I've had abrupt changes in my life. My grandmother died, I started dating Parker (33M), I got promoted at work, and I moved out on my own. It's important to mention, I think, that Stephen was my superior, and now, with the promotion, he's my immediate superior, I have to answer to him. So we spend much more time together, and we've come to know each other more intimately. I know about his problems with family, his friends, his plans for the weekend... But he never talks to me about relationships. We have a colleague who lives in the same city as Stephen, who has known him for years, and my colleagues, being the gossips they are, interrogated her about Stephen, and she managed to find out that he has never had a known relationship, nor has he had relationships with anyone, which surprised us all because, even though he's not my type, he's an athletic and quite attractive man.
Meanwhile, physical contact has emerged; he touches my shoulder when speaking, he hugs me when greeting me in the mornings... That was what I was missing. Just when I was rebuilding my life after the Christmas fiasco, to doubt again because of physical contact, once more when I was in a relationship that seemed perfect on the surface. More doubts on the subject. I had been with Parker for three months; I met him at a party with friends, in early February, falling back into the same old mistakes, focusing on the physical and then on the personality, luckily we were compatible, until feelings for Stephen surfaced again. The relationship faded, literally, no sex, no affection, no compatibility. My work colleagues didn't accept Parker, they were still insisting on Stephen. We come to yesterday, I broke up with Parker last week, and I really felt bad because it seemed to me that I was making the same mistakes as with John, obsessing over a relationship that didn't exist, that I had already received rejection for. But I moved to my new house, perfect for me, and liked by everyone, even Stephen. Today I received the comment that led me to speak here. I have organized a dinner next weekend at my house, Stephen is coming, he has asked to stay the night, I only have one bed, he has said we will share with a wink. I got excited, but I don't want to. I couldn't bear another fiasco. My work colleagues are already on cloud nine.
So I ask, do I have reasons to be excited or is it all in my head?

If you’d told me that the visitation with my son, an event that happened only every other weekend, would be extended indefinitely, I would’ve jumped with joy. In the end, I wish the circumstances under which they unfolded had never happened.
The clouds were sightless in the clear sky the day Jasmine dropped off my boy, a perfect day to play a little catch in the yard or go fishing at the nearby stock pond. Cyrus bounced out of the car and ran joyously toward me, unaware that his old man was a perpetual fuck up that had broken up the family in the first place. Oh well.
It was a happy day, the birds sang their old nostalgic tunes of a lost Summer in my own childhood. It was warm, not too warm, and the neighborhood was buzzing with excitement as the Spring showers had come to a close. It was as close as it could get to perfect.
The evening light danced against the tree tops, turning a violet hue as dusk began to settle in. Burnt orange water reflected the dying sun as it continued sinking away to nothing. We grabbed our tackle box, the giant beige one my uncle gifted me before he was stolen by cancer, and filled it with the empty, crumpled up bits of plastic that once held bologna sandwiches. As I said, it was a perfect day, very reminiscent of my own childhood.
We’d thrown the fat bluegill back that we had caught, I hadn’t felt like messing with cleaning and cooking them. Instead, dinner would likely be mac n’ cheese with some cut up hot dogs, a staple in my household whether or not Cyrus was visiting. Hopefully I hadn’t run through Oscar Meyer supply.
Home never felt so lonely, the walls never seemed so barren of old family pictures when Cyrus wasn’t around. Sometimes, he only added to the pain. I would never tell him that, though.
Even with the faucet turned all the way up, the water dribbled out and made boiling pasta a very patient game. Cyrus was babbling about some game he was playing on my phone. ‘He’s just a kid’, I thought, and pretended to be interested in whatever the hell he was talking about.
The sun had vanished and the moon was especially bright that night, having slid nearly halfway to its crescendo before dinner was finally done. Cyrus had stolen my phone to the living room, staring at the bright characters absentmindedly as a nondescript Netflix show played in the background.
“Here, buddy, sorry about the wait”, I sat the bowl of neon yellow stuff in front of him, the pink scramble of hotdog jutting out made me feel… a little ashamed? I plopped down next to him and flipped through the various titles on Netflix, most of which I had already seen a couple of times. Cyrus tossed the phone aside and picked at the mess of ‘food’ in the bowl. I can’t remember if he took a bite or not.
“Dad!”, I jumped, reeling from the doze I had fallen in. If Jasmine was here, it would’ve been such a perfect day, such a perfect day. Instead, this is where it all fell apart.
He massaged furiously at his temples, his knees pulled tight against his heaving chest.
“What’s the matter, are you okay?”, I jumped from the couch and got on one knee, putting my hands around his shoulders. I watched helplessly as Cyrus twisted and contorted his body, trying to run away from whatever pain was in his head.
Suddenly he fell still.
I studied him for a while, nearly on the verge of tears as his body had become totally limp. Then, a noise. At first it was quiet, then it grew and grew until it filled the room with totality. It’s hard to describe that noise, almost like a wind turbine if you were up close to it.
From behind the couch, just above my sons head, it peeked at me. Its thick, black fingers ended at sharp, nailess points. Just as I met its eyes, it slithered behind the couch and that’s when Cyrus awoke in a screaming fit.
I jumped awake again, Cyrus sitting next to me as pale as a sheet. His eyes were bulging, glued to the blank TV ahead.
I couldn’t help but check behind the couch, to make sure it wasn’t still there. Then, to my son who was still staring at the nothing on the television. His mouth was hanging open, just enough to allow the continuous stream of drool to fall out.
I ran to the kitchen to grab a paper towel and cleaned the odd amount of drool from his chin. There wasn’t a thermometer in the house but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that he was burning up. A fever, I thought.
I carried the boy to his bedroom, feeling as though I was being watched the entire way, and tucked him into bed. A doctors visit would soon be on the horizon. I returned to the couch in the living room, careful to keep my gaze fixed on the TV and nothing else. Truthfully, I was too afraid to look in the shadowy corners.
That night was filled with nightmares.
The next day I rang Jasmine, letting her know that Cy was sick and needed to go to the doctor. Ordinarily, this wouldn’t have been an issue, but Jas was immunocompromised (she’d been diagnosed with breast cancer a few months before we divorced) and my son would be staying with me for the foreseeable future. I couldn’t complain, I didn’t get to see him nearly enough as it was.
That day was very much the opposite of the previous, the sky was gloomy and spits of rain fell consistently from dawn to nightfall.
The doctor had said that Cyrus had a particularly severe ear infection, but nothing that some antibiotics couldn’t fix. He sent us home with a tube of the stuff, my wallet noticeably lighter.
“Apply some of this twice a day, once in the morning and once before bedtime”, the older gentleman had said. He squeezed my shoulder and smiled, though there seemed to be something else behind his wary eyes.
He stopped me again as I turned to leave.
“Sir…”, he started, though he seemed to study his words carefully, “your son kept mentioning something he called the flumes”.
I shrugged, the only time I had heard the word was in reference to a ravine on the edge of town where we’d all smoke pot in high school. Nothing struck me as odd about it at the time.
“They come from the flumes, those noises, those noises, he kept saying”, the doctor pushed closer, his eyes growing wild. I stepped backward, tugging at Cy’s hand as we left the building wordlessly.
Aside from my busy mind, the car ride home was utterly silent. I could hear my boys heavy, labored breaths all the way from the backseat. ‘Inner ear infection, my ass’, I thought.
After laying Cyrus back down for bed, I fixed him a bowl of instant chicken and noodles and decided to give Jasmine a call. The phone rang endlessly before the robotic voice indicated that the caller wasn’t available. I tried once more but gave up after it rang a few more times. Probably sleeping.
I returned to the couch, deciding to rewatch Nightmare on Elm Street for the fourth or fifth time.
After a while, I decided to put on cable, growing tired of the listless titles on Netflix. I was never too interested in the local news, but today seemed as good as any to catch up on the towns happenings. The Grantfield Gators girls softball team had advanced to sectionals and one of the townsfolk were celebrating their 100th birthday.
A ‘Breaking News’ graphic slid below the frazzled newslady on the television. Wherever she was, it sure looked familiar.
‘Wild dog shits on mayors front yard’, I laughed at my own stupid joke and surely turned as white as Cyrus had the previous night as the lady on the TV continued.
“A local woman was found tied to a tree and disemboweled at the scene. Police are saying various symbols were branded all over the womans body, and the material used to bind her to the Elm tree was ‘of unusual property’”, she continued on for a while but I hadn’t noticed, the air had fallen heavy and that familiar warbling had filled the room again.
Heavy footsteps slammed up the staircase at an otherworldly pace. Up the staircase and towards my sons room.
I ran, I swear I ran as fast as I could but I knew… I knew.
When I got to his room, he was gone, the curtains blowing aimlessly in the wind as the window had been slammed open so hard that the glass had shattered in the panes. The bowl of chicken and noodles sat on the bedside table, untouched.
I tried calling Jasmine again and again and again. Still, no answer.
I wanted to write this, to whoever may be reading, so that you know where to look if I don’t return. I know where my son is, I know where Jasmine is.
The flumes took them, or whatever might be lurking in it.

When I run, lately I've been having intermittent sharp pinching pain in the right side of my upper back near the glenoid cavity of my shoulder blade - sometimes I wonder if it has something to do with my spine. This started happening very recently - I feel it when I'm taking a breath. I've been needing to overcorrect by pulling my left shoulder up every time I breathe, otherwise it happens consistently. I heard this could be some kind of phantom pain from the diaphragm, but I felt it again today just while sitting.
I did get a cortisone shot in one of my shoulders when I was younger, and I remember it being a weird experience. Felt like the doctor was in and out of the room in less than a minute, barely looked at it, and just sent me to get the shot. It was either two nurses or med students that applied the shot, It hurt very bad, I felt it hit bone, even though they numbed it. They seemed panicked and confused. I don't remember if they tried numbing again, but eventually they finished the procedure.
For some reason I remember distinctly not trusting that the diagnosis was correct after that, it was either how quick the doctor determined I had a tear, or how bad it hurt even though they numbed it.
Anyway, what should my next steps be? Continue massaging?

Genocide looked to the sky. He thought of his mentor. The one who had saved him. He remembered his childhood. How powerless he was. He remembered the anger. He never wanted to hurt anybody. He thought of all the times he showed compassion. How much they hurt him for it. He saw the world before him, a graveyard. Humans. People that were supposed to be made in the image of some divine creator. They were but maggots feasting upon his remains. They ate away at his very being until nothing human remained. His thoughts were no longer his own. He had no joys in life that mattered. He hated humanity more than he could love anything about himself. He remember his first killing spree. Being gunned down by police. Left for dead. He remembered a hooded figure moving towards him. Getting closer the more he neared his death. He saw its pale face. Its impossibly black eyes. It was a man. This figure in question appeared to be of Japanese nationality with long, straight, loose hair. It emanated extreme malice. It offered him a choice. A purpose. Power. He thought the figure a reaper but it identified itself as Amakusa Masataka. Masataka guided him on how to kill and gave him specific locations to kill people in. In a sense, he became a hitman for quotas of people. He inquired what Masataka was. The presence of evil, his ability to appear and disappear at will, how he could control what people could see him and what people couldn't. While vague, years of killing for this being offered some insight. Amakusa Masataka belonged to a group of people not of this world. His people had been corrupted by a dark force long ago and had aligned themselves with the warlord who had subjugated their version of Japan. Their dark high priest assisted the warlord along with two others. These four rulers in turn served a larger order. The four were tasked with bringing about the end of the current world as an act of retribution for some fallen deity. Masataka's people acted as covert operatives for this empire. They were feared across the land and were collectively referred to as "Shinigami". An agent of the coming apocalypse, a servant of evil possessed by the will of those gods of death, Genocide would walk the earth.
Genocide stepped toward the station. A police cruiser rammed into him. He pulled out a knife and stabbed the hood of the car. The inhuman force of the knife created sparks which burst the engine into flames. The car crashed into a streetlight and exploded. A second cruiser neared the scene. No way a man could have done this. Yet still, out of the fires Genocide strode forth. It set upon the second vehicle, shooting out it's tires while jumping 9 feet into the air. The car tries to reverse but crashes into a wall. Genocide lands on the hood and kicks through the front window. Glass shatters under its boot, blinding the two officers inside. Genocide shoots one of the officers with a shotgun, killing him. The second officer in the passenger seat readies his pistol and takes aim. Only two shots fired, both directed at Genocide's head. It casually cocks its neck to avoid them. Then it grabs the officer's arm, breaking it. Genocide uses its free hand to grab the officer's head and bangs it into the dashboard no less than 5 times. The skull is shattered on the final impact. Genocide jumps off the car and continues on his mission.
Detective Evans speaks through a megaphone," This is your first and final warning. Stand down or we will use any and all means at our disposal to put you down." Genocide dropped its shotgun and raised its hands. A group of five SWAT team members rushed out the station, surrounding Genocide with riot shields. An officer accompanies them, edging behind the figure to apply handcuffs. Suddenly, Genocide springs to life , grabbing the officer behind him. He flips the officer over his head, slamming him into the pavement at his feet. Then Genocide stomps his head causing it to burst. Genocide drops a flash bomb from his coat sleeve, blinding the SWAT team as he draws his knife. He drives it into one SWAT member, the knife puncturing the shield and piercing his chest. Genocide kicks the corpse away withdrawing his knife. He goes to another, this time using the end of his boot toe in a rising kick to disarm their shield. He grabs them by the throat and drives the knife slowly into their eye socket. Another is tackled to the ground and beaten to death despite still being under the shield. Another is picked up and thrown into the fires still burning from the first auto incident. In no time, Genocide stood before an indistinguishable mass of gore, blood streaking across his black leather outfit. He laughed" So this is all you can give me. I'm not entertained." Officers took aim from the station windows, and snipers did so from other rooftops. Genocide laughed maniacally as he was rained down upon from all sides by a hailstorm of bullets. His body convulsed, but he did not fall. Moments more and he was on his knees. Still though, their efforts were futile. Gracia looked out and saw a black mist coalescing around the man in black. His blood. Blood erupted from his body only to transform into this dark mist that reentered his wounds. Genocide screamed. No. It was just an elevated pitch in his laughter. Optimism failed everyone yet again. Gracia saw Genocide holding something in his right hand. She could only make out a beeping red light. Genocide pushed the button triggering the carefully concealed explosives he laid in preparation for this event. C4 explosives went off in all the places he saw fit. The sniping posts he couldn't reach. The assault of lead lightened. Then Genocide drew an RPG from...somewhere. He collected himself and fired at the station's entrance. The explosion shook the station. From inside, the lights began to flicker. Communications were down on all fronts. Had he modified the rocket with some type of EMP? Not good. Amisdst the confusion Genocide entered using smoke bombs to mask his presence. Moving like a shadow, he killed everyone in the lobby silently with his knife. He made his way to the holding cells. Still they chanted. Still they praised. Still they raved for the arrival of genocide. Genocide shot the lock opening the cell. Jim Jimenez walked out and bowed before his master. Genocide smiled. He couldn't have imagined how proficient he had gotten with possession. Well, not quite possession. He had known of the Shinigami's ability to share their thoughts and emotions with humans. Shinigami like his mentor were ancient. They had so many years of memories, such strong a hatred for life that they overwhelmed the personality of the victim. The victim sees themselves as one of them. Shinigami can't force the will of the victim, so they find those who are already similar to them in some way. Genocide found the collective universal distrust of police to be a prime sentiment to capitalize on. He armed the inmates, infecting them with samples of his own dark essence.One particular inmate caught Genocide's eye. He knew the man's work. An arsonist. The one whom he recalls was responsible for blowing up his first car way back in high school. Rather than a standard firearm, Genocide gave the man a random assortment of grenades containing a special surprise. Genocide showed them visions of anarchy, of sending a message to a society that used and disregarded them. While this was also true of how he felt, years of living in darkness had changed him. He needed no purpose. No end goal. No justification. He just wanted to watch the world burn.
Genocide's small army broke off to engage several different wings of the station. Genocide went to the security room. He found Wayne, his informant, playing some FPS on one of the monitors. Wayne took of his headphones and asked," You kill everyone yet?" Genocide responded," No. You should get going before that happens. Your life becomes fair game if I run out of pigs to cook." Wayne clapped his hands, "Aight, GC my man, say less." He packed his things and left. Genocide drew a twin pair of handguns and laid waste to the station. He followed a group that took cover in the men's restroom. Kicking open multiple stalls he was surprised to find...nothing. Where had they gone? He turned around and saw his mentor, Masataka, smiling at him. It looked like him. Long, dark hair, black clothing, and soulless, empty eyes. But it wasn't. It was Genocide's own reflection in the mirror. Genocide smiled. He didn't notice the changes at first. They must have happened gradually. Subconsciously. From the final stall, an officer sprung into action, rushing Genocide, hitting him point blank with a shockgun round. Genocide felt the tingling sensation electrifying his body and grew numb. In spite of the pain, he took a single step. Then, another. He came within striking range of the officer and snatched the shockgun. Two more officers erupted from another stall, battering him with baton strikes. Genocide felt nothing. He clutched the shockgun in his hand like a bat and went to work pulverizing his attackers. An officer kicked in the bathroom door, a woman holding a pistol. She fired multiple times to no effect. Genocide stood covered in blood. He even let her reload. Twice. He wanted to see her despair. Her hopelessness. He walked towards her, shrugging off bullets as they pierced his body. His wounds healed nigh instantly due to the dark essence he had been imbued with. He held her face with both hands, lifting her body off the ground. As she screamed, he used her head to shatter the restroom mirror, running down the full length of it while smashing her into it at several points. He dropped the remains of what he held, washed his hands with soap, dried them, then exited the restroom.
The inmates that rallied for the cause of genocide attacked the station. Fortunately, they were nowhere near Genocide in terms of power and only carried one type of firearm each. They shared his healing ability but could be killed quite easily. Gracia encountered a sniper on the end or a west wing hallway. Other officers waited behind corners unable to get close. Gracia noticed the faulty lighting. In this hallway, the lights flickered in intervals of 3 seconds. Finding a pattern and timing her movements, she rushed the sniper at the exact moment the lights went out. Running the length of the hall, Gracia zigzagged, dodging the sniper inmate's bullets. She jumped on a wall, ran 3 feet on it, then kicked off it, pouncing on the assailant. She fired five shots into him, making sure to hit the brain and the heart. Two severe injuries that were impossible for Shinigami essence to heal simultaneously. Elsewhere, Evans took on another escaped inmate. A vehicular arsonist named Carson. Carson had a bag filled with an assortment of different grenades and was happily giving them out like candy on Halloween. "A flash bang here, a bit of tear gas there. Oh. Wait! Was that an ice grenade? Did the explosion freeze your leg to the floor? Whoops. Maybe a fire grenade will melt that for you. Hold on let me get one fore you," Carson rambled gleefully. Evans looked at the carnage before him. Officers burning. Officers partially frozen in blocks of ice. He took a breath and aimed his wristgun. He steadied his right forearm. Carson readied to throw a random grenade. Evans shot it the moment it left Carson's hand. The grenade exploded directly in front of Carson. Both Evans and Carson looked at each other in shock. Confetti. A party grenade? Carson quickly fumbled for another but was tackled and restrained by several officers. Meanwhile in the South wing, Lary had some colleagues set a trap for another shotgun toting inmate. He had them bait the inmate and flee. Giving chase he turned a corner and ran straight into Lary's fist. The inmate recovered and motioned to shoot Lary. "Let's tango. " Lary gave the code word. Nearby officers activated a device. A signal jammer of sorts. The inmate shoved the barrel of his gun into Lary's gut and pulled the trigger. Nothing. The special signal jammer in question was designed for firearms. It was a last resort as it left officers just as defenseless. Lary was having fun. He boxed the inmate in hand to hand combat. Despite the inmate's enhanced strength, Lary's technique pulled through. Lary ducked under one of the inmate's wide punches and did some type of rising uppercut where he jumped off the ground while spinning. One of the other officers whispered" The rising dragon." Lary smiled giving a thumbs up" Yeah, it was a rising dragon uppercut. Saw it in one O my kid's vidya games. Thought I'd try it out while I'm jacked on adrenaline".
Jim Jimenez looked long and hard at himself in the mirror. He was in the women's restroom. Some brainless woman had broken the men's restroom mirror with her face. For the first time in a long while Jim could think clearly. He was becoming sane. At the least he was no longer a raving lunatic. The life essence of the dark gods had healed the wounds to both his body and his mind. He saw his face, his scraggly dirty beard. He found a razor and shaved. He trimmed his beard somewhat. He liked it. He washed his hair. It fell down his face like silk, no longer greasy. His bloodshot eyes once burning with crazed intensity had cooled. He blinked. Just for a second, he saw the man known as Genocide. The man that attacked him. The one that killed him and gave him new life. The drug dealers. The police. They were all the same in his eyes now. They were all to blame for the world being what it is. Jim wanted to hate them. He wanted to take revenge, but he felt nothing. It didn't matter. He knew he was wronged, could logically justify acting against them, but he just didn't care anymore. About anything. He was finally free. Sensing his presence was no longer needed here, Jim vanished into the night. He needed to find someone who had had the answers he needed. Himself. Who had he been? Who was he now? Who could he become? Where was he going? So many questions to ponder indefinitely. So much time left in the rest of his life.
Genocide ran down the station's halls raining hailstorms of bullets upon its occupants. He had a handgun in each hand as well as a wristgun on each wrist. This effectively gave him 4 separate firearms that he could use simultaneously. Lary regrouped with Gracia, Evans, and a handful of others. They radioed all surviving officers near Genocide to flee to the roof. This plan had been set in motion days before the assault and had been kept hidden from most of the force. The plan involved scheduling flights for several helicopters to arrive at some point after Genocide arrived. There would be no way for him to prepare for them and pre-scheduling their arrival ensured they arrived regardless of if they were called or not. Lary and the others set about preparing the second jamming device. Genocide stood among a hallway of bodies. He saw one man clinging to life trying to crawl away. He decided on trying that other thing he saw his master do. He grabbed the dying man and pinned him to the wall. Slowly he drove a knife into his chest. As the man's life slipped away, something else entered his body. Genocide channeled a small amount of his essence into the vessel. He had steadily done this with other casualties around the station whose bodies were somewhat salvageable. He dropped the body he was holding and looked upon the others. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his eyed were black, both sclera and iris. The scene before him changed. Genocide had a vision. He saw a dead gray wasteland littered with bodies. These people however weren't cops and wore traditional Japanese attire. In his hand wasn't a gun or knife but a short sickle akin to a farming tool. He heard a dark voice call out to him. Slowly, the corpses around him began to rise, now mere puppets bound eternally to their master's whim. The bodies sold to the reaper who had claimed their lives. Genocide's vision ended. His eyes had returned normal. Around him, dead cops began to rise. His dark essence had entered their bodies and reanimated them. He sent his dead army to attack the officers fleeing to the roof of the station. These zombies swarmed the stairwell giving chase to the few survivors. There were five of them. They had two flights of stairs to climb and a horde of their former colleagues close behind them. One officer tripped and was set upon by the horde. The zombies didn't bite them but held them firmly in place. The other four officers stared down wondering what to do. They could hear Genocide chuckling. They could hear humming. They could feel the temperature rising. Their colleague and the two zombies holding him were hit by an enormous green fireball. Genocide had fired a Magnum Opus and had charged the bullet to level 3. The Magnum Opus was simply a magnum that shot fireballs, with bullets that could be charged by holding down the trigger. It had three levels of charges. Level 1 was a small reddish ball of plasma. Level 2 was slightly larger and yellow. Level 3 was the maximum charge and resulted in a large slow moving green blast of energy. The officer was ignited and Genocide watched gleefully as the force of the blast sent him flying through a wall. The four officers continued up firing occasionally to slow down the zombies. Soon they made it to a door leading to the roof. Before one officer could reach it, he was sniped by Genocide, a bullet to the head killing him instantly. The remaining three made it out. They regrouped with the others already there, 12 in total, including Lary, Evans, and Gracia. This would be their final stand. They just had to hold out until Genocide made it up there. They just had to keep Genocide occupied until the helicopters arrived. Genocide slowly ascended the stairs behind his horde. On the roof, the remaining survivors faced off against waves of the undead. Evans recognized the attackers. These zombies were being controlled by nanomachines. He heard the stories of several weapons encountered by soldiers on the battlefield. These creatures were called Metaldeads as they were reanimated via machines. They had been officially banned by most of the worlds' governments for being unethical. However, this did not stop the technology from being spread still between shady organizations, terrorists, etc. Evans wondered how Genocide got this form of nanotechnology. Evans long speculated that the dark essence used by most of the killers they encountered was a a form of nanotech however it was different from anything else he had seen or heard about. The dark essence seemed to be an amalgamation of other types of nanotech. Evans had to save his inquiries for later. He reloaded his wristgun and took aim at the approaching group of Metaldeads. Gracia steadied her handgun and shot two Metaldeads in the head. From the single door countless arms seemed to spill forth from the darkness. The other officers took turns firing in intervals. this allowed them to create a steady stream of fire where no more that three guns needed to be reloaded at once. The horde seemed to thin out over time as if they were making progress. In actuality, the Metaldeads were just making room for Genocide to enter. Genocide exploded in a sprint from the door. Everyone fired upon the killer. Genocide had now chosen a wrist mounted mini flamethrower to use as his weapon. He stormed past the oncoming bullets taking some damage, but refused to slow down. He unleashed a stream of fire that caught five of the officers in one fell swoop. Gracia fired five rounds into Genocide's face. He stumbled back. Lary took the chance to fire several mine gun bullets at Genocide's feet. The mines quickly detected his movement and exploded. In seconds, Genocide was on his back.
Staring at the night sky Genocide saw the moon. He reached for it. He called for the darkness to give him more power. His wounds began healing. In the sky he could hear the whirl of propellers. There were six helicopters in total. The first two had evacuated the survivors while the others stayed to engage Genocide. Genocide got up and unstrapped the sniper rifle from his back. He stood before the searchlights as a black silhouette, cornered but unwilling to back down. Lary stared down at him smiling. "Okay!" He shouted, "Let's Tango!" Upon this declaration the second jamming device was activated. Now, isolated on the roof, Genocide's guns couldn't be fired and the helicopters were out of range of the device. Now Genocide stood like a sitting duck. A helicopter fired a rocket. Genocide side stepped and grabbed it. He turned his body redirecting the rocket to hit another helicopter. As it exploded Genocide drew his knife and threw it at another helicopter. Behind the knife was such force that it shattered the helicopter window's glass, embedding itself in the pilot. This helicopter too went down where it exploded. "Holy clucknuggets!Did you see that!?" Lary said dumbfounded. Evans looked out the helicopter door he was in jaw open in shock. "There's no way." He collected himself quickly and radioed the remaining two helicopters to keep moving and to use their machineguns as much as possible. The helicopters reigned down upon Genocide tearing apart his body. Shreds of leather and darkened blood sprayed across the pavement of the roof. Gracia watched as Genocide's body was destroyed repeatedly as it tried to heal. Surely he had to stop at some point. After 10 minutes the helicopters had exhausted their cache of ammunition and soldiers opted to fire their own rifles and occasionally throw grenades. After about six minutes, they too had run out of bullets. Genocide stood unfazed. He had long since healed himself and now appeared intangible with gunfire seeming to pass through his body. His coat once ripped , now appeared whole though on closer inspection seemed to writhe. Gracia looked in horror as she remembered the tales her adopted father had told her. Tales he had in turn heard from his predecessors. Every so often officers had reported encounters with ghost like beings cloaked in a cloud of living dark mist. The beings were rumored to be responsible for the deaths of multiple people ranging from scientists, veterans, mafia, politicians, etc. They were seen near such crime scenes and even more shockingly appeared around several sites where suicides were committed. These beings were reportedly impervious to bullets and filled anyone who got near with an impending sense of dread. If Genocide was connected to them or somehow turning into one , there was little chance they would be able to defeat him. Gracia's fears were confirmed when she saw that Genocide's leather coat had been destroyed and he had replaced it with the dark mist coalescing from his own spilled blood. The dark mist, swirling, grew larger and several tendrils sprouted out from it. Gracia could briefly make out a figure standing next to Genocide. A hooded figure cloaked in the same black substance. The figure stared up at her with soulless, blackened eyes which seemed to beckon her to jump from the aircraft she was standing in. Compelling her to give in to the death that plagued the earth. Genocide kneeled to his master. The Shinigami, Masataka stared down at his disciple. "You have done a great service to us. Even now the sealed god stirs in its slumber. Its...Awakening will soon be upon us. It calls out for war. It begs for famine. It longs to continue its conquest. We are the death it so desires. The death that is necessary for this civilization to grow. Use the power that I have bestowed upon you. Finish the mission as you see fit." The Shinigami vanished and Genocide stood.Genocide stared at his hands. He remembered the first killing spree. He was on a bus. It stopped. A woman got on the bus and walked to the back smiling as she passed him. Something about her eyes unnerved him. They were so bright but something dark reflected inside them. He ignored the thought and put in his headphones. In minutes he had dozed off. He jumped awake. He looked around and froze in panic. All around him, everyone had been hacked to pieces. He saw the driver, actively being stabbed by a masked assailant. The mask, painted white with black eyeholes, stared back at him. It raised a finger over where its lips would be. Even under the expressionless visage, he could feel that same smile. He ran home that morning. He went to his room to find it destroyed. His posters, his computer, his tv, everything, had been ruined. He turned around and saw a man at the end of the hallway holding a sledge hammer. "The hell you been, boy?", his stepdad sneered. The man dropped his hammer and walked closer, veins pulsing with rage. He tried to explain how his car had caught fire forcing him to walk 4 miles to the nearest bus stop, but the man's fist was faster than his words. "Boy!Answer me when I talk to you!!" the man says as he backhands the taste out of the would be Genocide's mouth. He took that beating for several minutes before being left to stare at his ransacked room. He hated how his stepdad went out of his way to destroy the things he loved. Soon, another set of footsteps could be heard. It was his mother standing behind his locked door. She didn't knock, or say anything. She just stood there, doing nothing as always. He never knew if she came to talk to him or apologize. All he knew was that she could never bring herself to speak to or even acknowledge him. Maybe out of guilt or perhaps shame. A year or two later after he had had enough he ran away from home. Living out on the streets alone, without friends, or family, he would embark on countless killing sprees. These killings weren't of his own volition however. He was coerced by some corrupt officers from The Unit. They made him kill on their behalf. Sometimes they were protesters, sometimes they were drug dealers, other times, petty criminals they couldn't be bothered to process. It was routine for him to be used to kill entire houses of drug riddled addicts. During one such venture he entered a drug den, killing the dealer as instructed. He took out several junkies before turning to leave. A woman who survived her injuries clung to his heel begging him to stop. Looking down he aimed the handgun he was carrying at her head of long disheveled brown hair and fired. Feeling nothing, he kicked her body aside like trash when it hit him. Her face. This woman had been his mother. What was she doing in a place like this? He felt a shock of emotion. He wondered if she had always been like this, or had she changed after he left. He never made amends, but decided to stop killing from then on. The unit did not like that. Once it became apparent that he was no longer of use to them they started a manhunt to apprehend him with lethal force. They found him. They killed him. But he survived.
He remembered the girl on the bus. He remembered her eyes. Those of a sadistic killer. Still there was something else inside them. Something faint but deeper. So. Much. Sadness. Just like him. He felt the hatred begin to spread. His purpose, he decided, was to make all humans rot in the hell they created for him.
These people, he thought to himself, these living diseases, all needed to die. Their struggles, their problems, they spread like cancer to others. The only cure for humanity's sin, its collective wrongdoings, was genocide.
Around him, dark tendrils continued to form and expand, spinning in a vortex. Genocide pulled out two pistols. He squeezed the triggers to no effect. "As I see fit, huh? Hehe." He squeezed both guns in his hands, breaking them into pieces. He concentrated. In his hands, two more guns materialized now completely black due to being forged from the dark essence. Forged by his will. Immune to the jamming device that shut down conventional firearms. He raised his arms at each remaining helicopter and opened fire. Countless tendrils whipped out and slashed at his targets joining the dark essence bullets. It was chaos. Dark tendrils and bullets tore through every direction as Genocide spun and swirled around in 360 degrees firing randomly with purpose. A tendril pierced Gracia's right arm, another, her abdomen. She was however, fortunate, as the other passengers of her helicopter were dismembered. She barely had time to jump from the vehicle before it crashed. She fell 2 yards onto solid concrete. She felt immense pain as her right shoulder shattered on impact. She looked up to see Genocide's blade like appendages ripping through the other escape helicopters. She rolled onto her back and tried to steady herself. Within seconds her body began to repair itself. The nanocells inside her had saved her life but were now depleted. She would need another supplement lest she receive another fatal injury. The standard nanocells she and the others had were much less potent than those of the killers they faced. In truth, they had only minimal strength boosts being able to lift 5-8 more pounds than before and healing being limited to one or two fatal injuries so long as death didn't occur instantly. Gracia blacked out. She awoke the next morning in a hospital. There the doctors refilled her nanocells. She learned that the station had been left in ruins. Genocide had detonated some type of minature nuke following his rampage. He always blew up the stations as if to send a message. Gracia looked out the window thinking about why she became a cop. Twice her family had been murdered by them. Her biological family had been killed in an on record drug raid committed by a group of corrupt officers called The Unit. She had been adopted by another officer that arrived at the scene who found her as a child hiding in a closed. Sadly, he too was killed for trying to expose the activities of The Unit. Gracia joined the force to avenge both losses and bring justice to the killers that disguised themselves as normal people. Law enforcement was neither good, nor bad. It depended upon the people that made it up. In the dying corrupt world Gracia lived in, she vowed to be a beacon of light. Evans laid in a bed adjacent to Lary. "That damn Genocide's somethin else in' he?Like the stories you told us were understatements. That man could legit not die at this point in the story. Like he has friggin plot armor or somthin.'' Evans cut him off" I get it. We all got our asses handed to us. But did you see that ..thing that appeared next to him. Right before he created that black vortex that wiped us out. That must have something to do with his power. Maybe there's a still a way to stop him."Lary chimed in," That fella looked like he was on the way to a black metal concert wit all the black facepaint he was wearin' Creeped me out to be honest." As the survivors mulled over their predicament, the cycle of evil continued to spread elsewhere.
Budley flips through the pages of a magazine. He checks his watch. He looks around the gas station and doesn't see any customers. Seizing the opportunity, he puts in his headphones and begins playing an imaginary guitar as he jams to a progressive deathcore album. Oblivious to the screams coming from outside, the store clerk moves on to thumping two candy bars on the counter to simulate drums. Budley sees that his shift has ended and begins locking up the store. He sweeps the aisles and jumps as a shadow appears behind him. He turns and sees a well groomed bearded man dressed in a black hoodie, black shirt, and black and gray camo pants. The man holds out his hand and smiles. Budley rings up the pack of nicotine substitute gum. "Tryin to kick the habit huh?" Budley asks. The man replies, "Somethin like that. Gotta get my priorities back in check. Focus on the things that really matter. That damn KonCreep's a hell of a band aren't they?" He nods to the playlist on Budley's phone. "Yeah, they're killer. just got into them a month back." Budley answers. "You know, I'm something of a musician myself. Maybe you'll hear of me on the news someday." Jim Jimenez says as he sees himself out. He walks to the back of the building and passes an ominous form of graffiti. A woman lays unmoving and above her, written on concrete in red is a message that simply says "Genocide Reigns".

“Meet the Grandparents,” Chapter 6
by c.w. cobblestone
My shoulder throbbed after twenty minutes of scrubbing the tile near the laundry sink, but the damned calcium stain wouldn’t budge. I set down the steel wool pad and tried to stretch my arm, but when I shifted position, a cold wave ran through me and I remembered how badly I had to piss.
I clenched my legs together and choked out a frustrated sob. I knew there was no way I could wait any longer; I simply had to ask for permission to use the bathroom, or I’d surely make a mess.
By the time I’d struggled to my feet, though, I was second-guessing myself, and wondering whether pissing in my panties might be preferable to whatever punishment awaited me if I dared to ask my master’s mother to rescind her order that I ‘hold it’ until one o’clock.
I would have squeezed my penis to try to stop the flood, but it was encased in my accursed chastity device. Instead, I danced in a little circle, debating whether to go upstairs and beg for relief, or just piss myself and accept the consequences.
The decision was made for me; as I did my little jig, my right heel slipped on the wet tile and I fell down hard, severely twisting my ankle. I couldn’t continue holding my bladder, and I rolled around on the basement floor moaning with the warm wetness soaking my panties and the front of my frock. For a nanosecond I felt relief, but that was quickly replaced by the throbbing in my ankle, and the ice that formed in my gut as I wondered what my punishment would be when my masters learned of my accident.
I lay there for maybe five minutes before I was able to rouse myself and wipe up my piss from the basement floor before hobbling toward the stairs. Walking was incredibly difficult with my ankle swelled up to twice its normal size, but I somehow mustered the willpower to make it up the steps.
With tears in my eyes, I stood before my masters, curtsied and started to explain what had happened — but my wife beat me to it.
“You have GOT to be kidding me, standing there with piss all over yourself,” she screamed. “I can’t believe you’d embarrass us like this, you little worm.”
Carla frowned. “Did you get pee everywhere in my basement, Jody?”
With a wobbly curtsy, I shook my head. “N-no, Ma’am, I cleaned it up.”
Demarcus chuckled. “Damn, sissy, this just isn’t your day, is it? That ankle looks pretty bad.”
I curtsied in response.
“What happened?” my master asked.
“Um … I slipped on the wet tile, sir. That’s how I ended up … my accident … I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me,” Demarcus said. “My mom’s the one who told you to wait until one.”
I turned to Carla and curtsied. “Ma’am, please … I didn’t mean to disobey you. I really tried.”
“You really tried.” The older woman’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, Jody. You’re the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Now, you can march yourself back down to my basement and finish cleaning — and, no, you can’t change out of that wet uniform.”
“Y-yes, Ma’am.”
“Get your butt back to work.” Carla snapped her fingers.
Following my smart curtsy, I started to limp away, which caused Ron to chuckle.
“Poor sissy; you just can’t catch a break, can you?” he said. “It’s gonna be hard to clean with that ankle swelled up like that, huh?”
Pam waved her hand. “Oh, don’t worry about Jody. He’s happy to make himself useful; otherwise, we’d have no reason to keep him around. Right, Jody?”
“Y-yes, Ma’am, thank you, Ma’am.”
Pam nodded regally. “You can go now.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
I was halfway down the basement steps when I heard the baby cry, followed by my wife’s annoyed voice.
“Jody! Get back up here; you’ve got a diaper to change.”
With a sigh, I hurried back to the living room as fast as my injured ankle would allow. When Pam spotted my wet dress, she scowled and pointed toward the stairwell. “Go upstairs and put on a fresh apron before you touch my baby with piss all over you,” she said. “And wash your hands. Hurry up.”
I carried out my wife’s instructions quickly before spreading a blanket onto the living room floor and taking the baby from his mom’s arms.
Carla watched as I unfastened Little D’s wet diaper. “Are you sure you trust this pervert around my grandson? From what I can see, the degenerate little creep doesn’t have much in the way of character.”
Demarcus shrugged. “Nah, we’re not worried, Ma. Jody would never do anything to displease us. Ain’t that right, Jody?”
“Yes, sir, of course not, sir,” I said as I put a fresh diaper on his son.
Pam nodded. “Like I told you earlier, I trust Jody a lot more than I would some nanny, any day of the week. Believe it or not, Jody’s not really a pervert. He doesn’t like dressing up like this — not that anyone cares what he likes. But it was Demarcus’s idea. Jody hates it.”
Ron laughed. “Damn, Jody, that must really suck. It’s one thing if you’re into dressing like a girl. But to be made to do it? How do you live with yourself?”
My lip trembled as I struggled to hold back tears amid the onslaught of derision. “Um sir, I … I just love Miss Pam, sir, and I want to make her happy. She fell in love with your son, sir, and like I told you earlier, I begged them to let me stay in her life in some capacity. This is how they want me to be, so I’m just happy they’ve found a place for me, sir, and that’s why I try to be the best maid I can be.”
“Although sometimes you fall short, and disobey orders.” Pam arched her brow. “Like pissing in your panties when you’ve been told to wait.”
“I’m so sorry, Ma’am.”
“Whatever,” my wife said as I handed over her freshly-diapered son. “Now, limp your sissy ass downstairs and get back to cleaning.”
“And I’d hurry up if I was you,” Carla added. “You got a whole lot more stuff to do when you’re done down there. I don’t care how much your ankle hurts.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Normally, I’m not like this,” Carla said, flashing her teeth. “But something about you brings out the devil in me. I’m gonna work you until you drop, you hear? And if your ankle hurts, so much the better.”
“Y-yes, Ma’am.”
Ron smirked. “And we haven’t even talked about all the chores I have lined up for you. Like I said, you just can’t catch a break.”
As I hobbled down the basement stairs, I muttered to myself, “You don’t know the half of it, you hateful old bastard.”

Hey everyone, I wanted to summarize the injury I had, how it affected me, and the rehab process. I'll make edits every three months or so to track my progress and return to CF.
Background: I'm a 27 y/o guy who had been doing CF for about 1.5 years until my injury. I had seen steady progress in all aspects of CF since starting. I had previously lifted weights for 7 years.
December 2023: I went for a new PR power snatching and dislocated my shoulder while the barbell was overhead. I popped back in about a minute later. I go to the ortho that same day and get X-Rays. No bone damage thankfully. About a week later I get an MRI that confirms labral tear and a little bit of damage around some other tendons I don't remember the name of. No biceps tendon damage. I wear a sling for 4 weeks, doing one small CF workout before surgery for whatever reason.
I believe what led to the dislocation was a combination of poor mobility, improper recovery leading up to the attempt, and trying a weight that was outside of my strength range. Live and you learn I guess.
January 2024: Surgery exactly one month after dislocation. Surgeon tells me it was like my labrum had torn from the 8 o'clock hand to the 11 o'clock hand of a clock so not terrible. Told to wear a sling for 6 weeks.
February 2024: Since I work remotely, I really only wore my sling outside of the house and not all that often. Should've (?) been better about wearing the sling but I have no idea if that had any impact on my recovery since my arm was on my lap 8 hours a day. I began to run as exercise.
March 2024: In the beginning of the month I start physical therapy for an intended 12 weeks. Still running, not doing any weight training or modified CF.
April 2024: Running, did a 10k for the first time, slowly getting back into lifting weights, PT is going well.
May 2024: Quit running after the 10k (something I regret). I'm nearing the end of PT and would say my mobility is around 85% of what it used to be. Starting to get into weight lifting with minimal apprehension. I am still not able to do close to what my old CF self was. I cannot currently do any sort of pull ups, RMUs, BMUs, etc. I could probably snatch the bar and that's it.
As of today, I have not done any Crossfit in 5 months, and don't think I'll be full strength for a few more. I plan to just keep doing a body building split until I'm confident my range of motion is no longer compromised and I can perform everything overhead pain-free. I would rather do this than modify CF around my injury. It's actually been somewhat nice to take a break, get back into something I haven't done for a while, and try some other forms of exercise. Looking forward to getting back into it later this year.

Every time he saw Juniper, someone was trying to kill her.
He opened the second story window and let her in, as his best friend Troy laid down as much cover fire as could be achieved with a Hawken plains rifle. She was light enough to find climbing purchase on the rough-hewn support post.
"I've got six shots in me, and one of them is lead," she told him as she climbed in the window, pulling on a metal flask that singed his nose from four feet away.
It was the little details that stuck out to him in moments like these, and he couldn't help but notice that a single wild curl had escaped the back of her modest black head covering.
"Hello, Juniper. Why are the Sioux after you?"
"Probably because I stole one of their horses to get here," she said as she reloaded her revolver.
A shot burst through the top of the window, shattering both panes. Instinctively, they all dropped to the floor. That seemed to be all. By the time they picked themselves up, the Indians were riding out of town with the stolen horse.
"That was a really expensive window! The nearest glassmaker is in Denver!" Jack's best friend said.
Juniper's voice barely shook as she asked, "How far to the doctor?"
Jack shook his head.
"The doctor has gone to the next town over. Cholera outbreak. I think I can do a better job removing the bullet than last time...but drink the rest of your liquor."
It went better than he thought it would. She screamed a little, he screamed a little, but the bullet came right out.
The recovery was worse. Not because it was more painful, but because Juniper was so restless she kept tearing her stitches.
By day three, she was trying to convince Jack to go to Canada with her to hunt man eating grizzly bears.
"There's a pretty good bounty," she said.
Jack put the last stitch in place on her shoulder.
"Does anyone want to kill you in Canada?"
"What?"
"Just thinking aloud."
A fierce wind whistled past his little wooden cabin, but it was pleasant enough inside. A small pot of coffee simmered on the wood stove.
This time, wherever she went, he was going with her. He'd spent the last year of her absence in regret for watching her ride away.
It was rumors of gold to be found further west that ultimately captured Juniper's interest.
They left on a bright Saturday morning, with two horses and the most noisy and belligerent pack mule to ever live. They had courage and supplies, but nothing could have prepared them for the journey ahead.

Before I start, this story is long, and I'll repeat myself a lot; my first goal is to get what's inside me out and vent, so please be patient and if you respond be respectful, please.
I (29M) came out of the closet about two years ago, but living in the environment I live in, I couldn't be as open as I would have liked until recently. During that time, I lost a lot of weight and gained confidence in myself, which made it easier for me to open up to the world that interested me. I'm not someone with much experience when it comes to sex, but I've had my adventures, mostly with women, but once I accepted who I am, my experiences shifted towards men. In recent years, I've had fleeting relationships and two relationships that lasted more than four months, but in recent months, I've been puzzled by a situation I've had to live through, and that's why I'm writing this here, to see if the perspective of strangers helps me clarify my thoughts a bit.
I don't consider myself ugly; I can even be attractive, both physically and in personality, but insecurities have affected me since I was very young. This story begins in September of last year when I started working at a new company. The workgroup consists of about 30 colleagues, some of whom I knew from before. But the story focuses on a guy (32M), let's call him Stephen. I must mention that he didn't attract me at first; he's not my physical type. But around November, as I got to know him, I was attracted to his personality, which surprised me because I'm usually a very superficial person (I know I need to work on that), and it's not very common for me to be attracted to someone because of their personality.
Over time, I formed a very close group of friends, who told each other everything that happened in our daily lives, so it was only a matter of time before I mentioned to them that I was attracted to Stephen. The three colleagues, Anna (37F), Violet (36F), and Lily (20F), were happy for me and told me that the interest seemed mutual because they thought the guy was getting very close to me. I liked that because I had already noticed that the jokes or comments I made to him received the same response, or at least he played along.
We reached December, we organized a dinner with some colleagues, and both he and I attended. By then, my colleagues had been pressuring me a lot to tell him something, but since we only had a relationship at work, I didn't dare to take the step; it didn't seem right to me. I also mentioned my situation to my friends, who could give me another point of view, but they all told me that not seeing the relationship we had made it difficult for them to evaluate it. I must mention that all this was happening while I was seeing another guy, John (27M), in a stable relationship for 6 months.
At the dinner and at the after-party, Stephen didn't leave my side. If I went out to smoke, he came out with me even though he doesn't smoke; if I had a drink, he accompanied me to the bar. My colleagues were ecstatic because they saw that this was the night something was going to happen. Well, it didn't. Between my relationship with John and the nerves of the moment, I didn't dare to do anything. But I already saw clearly that with those ideas in my head, the relationship with John was unfeasible; he was no longer my priority. We broke up during the following week.
I was already going all out for Stephen; I was attracted to his personality, to what he could offer me in a relationship. The week before Christmas arrived. We had a one-week break from work, and I didn't want to leave with doubts on vacation. On Tuesday of that week, I went to talk to him about the subject, determined, but when I started talking, I saw that we weren't alone, and I didn't dare to continue. I didn't dare again until Friday; he insisted that I finish saying what I had to tell him, which excited me even more because in my head, what I wanted to tell him seemed obvious.
Friday came, the last day for me to tell him something. When there was an hour left to finish the workday, I saw that we were alone, and I approached him. I was very nervous, I even stuttered, but I practically told him that I found him a very interesting guy and that I would like to get to know him outside of work, to which he responded that he was flattered but that he was not homosexual. It crushed me. I tried to disguise it by saying that he had become a very important support at work and that I wouldn't want this to ruin that relationship; he accepted it.
I left there as quickly as possible, holding back tears as best I could (yes, very teenage everything). I met up with my colleagues and told them what had happened. They supported me, but they kept saying that they didn't believe Stephen, that the relationship we had wasn't just friendship. I didn't give importance to that; at that moment I just wanted to forget what had happened. It was one of the toughest Christmases I've ever had. My family didn't know anything, my friends outside of work didn't understand it, and my work colleagues kept insisting that I needed to clarify things even more with him. My head was spinning.
I decided that I was going to fulfill what I said to Stephen, that the work relationship would continue as it had until that moment. The first week was weird and tough, I won't deny it, but I handled it quite well. I insisted that my colleagues avoid the subject, but it was impossible not to see the looks every time Stephen and I talked. Over time, we've returned to jokes, and although there's attraction on my part, I've come to understand that nothing will ever happen between us. Or so I thought. The last month I've had abrupt changes in my life. My grandmother died, I started dating Parker (33M), I got promoted at work, and I moved out on my own. It's important to mention, I think, that Stephen was my superior, and now, with the promotion, he's my immediate superior, I have to answer to him. So we spend much more time together, and we've come to know each other more intimately. I know about his problems with family, his friends, his plans for the weekend... But he never talks to me about relationships. We have a colleague who lives in the same city as Stephen, who has known him for years, and my colleagues, being the gossips they are, interrogated her about Stephen, and she managed to find out that he has never had a known relationship, nor has he had relationships with anyone, which surprised us all because, even though he's not my type, he's an athletic and quite attractive man.
Meanwhile, physical contact has emerged; he touches my shoulder when speaking, he hugs me when greeting me in the mornings... That was what I was missing. Just when I was rebuilding my life after the Christmas fiasco, to doubt again because of physical contact, once more when I was in a relationship that seemed perfect on the surface. More doubts on the subject. I had been with Parker for three months; I met him at a party with friends, in early February, falling back into the same old mistakes, focusing on the physical and then on the personality, luckily we were compatible, until feelings for Stephen surfaced again. The relationship faded, literally, no sex, no affection, no compatibility. My work colleagues didn't accept Parker, they were still insisting on Stephen. We come to yesterday, I broke up with Parker last week, and I really felt bad because it seemed to me that I was making the same mistakes as with John, obsessing over a relationship that didn't exist, that I had already received rejection for. But I moved to my new house, perfect for me, and liked by everyone, even Stephen. Today I received the comment that led me to speak here. I have organized a dinner next weekend at my house, Stephen is coming, he has asked to stay the night, I only have one bed, he has said we will share with a wink. I got excited, but I don't want to. I couldn't bear another fiasco. My work colleagues are already on cloud nine.
So I ask, do I have reasons to be excited?

⚠️ WARNING: Maasverse Spoilers—Proceed with Caution ⚠️

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Part 1: Characters and Courts - YOU ARE HERE
Part 2: World Map, Items, Terms & Other
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Well, here we go. A master list of all things ACOTAR + the "real" world.

Now, do I believe every single name and location on this list was chosen by SJM with a specific real-world allusion in mind? Of course not. But when you look at the similarities, you'd be hard pressed to deny some of their very probable relations.
As far as this list goes, I've provided what was within my ability to find—coupling each with that which made the most sense relationally—though several definitions would appear to have zero connection to the story at large.
I can't promise perfection. Heck, I can't even promise 100% accuracy (though I did cross-reference the more obscure sources). And I will gladly welcome any missing pieces and/or additional insight you may have.
\Note: If a character or place/item is minor enough, I've included a reminder of their book roles.*

So come on, friends. Let's dive on in.

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UK + IRELAND

PRYTHIAN

A combination of Prydain, the old Welsh name for Britain, and Brython, which translates to “Ancient Britons” from Welsh.

HYBERN

A riff of Hibernia, the Classical Latin name for Ireland.

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Artist of Prythian map: P-dulcis on redbubble

*A continuing list of world map related locations is provided in Part 2 of this post (see link above)

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MAIN CHARACTERS

RHYSAND

Rhys (also Rhŷs) is Welsh in origin and means "ardent, enthusiasm." It has deep roots in Welsh culture and is the name of several famous Welsh kings and noblemen, including Rhys ap Thomas, a solider who rose to prominence during the Wars of the Roses.

FEYRE ARCHERON

Feyre is a variant of Feyre and is Old English in origin. It means "fair, beautiful." A similar name in Old Norse is Freyja (also spelled Freya), meaning "Lady," denotes a woman of nobility. In Norse mythology, Freyja is a goddess associated with love, beauty, fertility, sex, and war.
In Greek mythology, the Archeron is one of the five rivers of the Underworld and is often the principal river through which the ferryman Charon transports the dead. It said to be the River of Woe or the River of Misery.

CASSIAN

Cassian is Latin in origin, means "son of Cassius," and denotes one of the oldest families in Rome. Arguably the most well known Cassius was one of the leading instigators of Julius Caesar's assassination plot.

AZRIEL

Azriel is Hebrew in origin meaning "God is my help." In some religions, Azrael is the benevolent angel of death who carries souls of the deceased to the afterlife.

MORRIGAN

The Morrígan is a Celtic goddess associated with war and fate and is seen as a guardian of the earth and its people. Her name means "great queen" or "phantom queen."

AMREN

Amram is of Hebrew origin and means "exalted people." It is the Biblical name of Moses' father.
Note: This tracks with Amren being able to interpret The Book of Breathings which is a play on the very real The Books of Breathing, a collection of ancient Egyptian funerary texts.

NESTA

Nesta is the Welsh version of Agnes meaning "pure, holy." May also have potential connections to Nestor, a legendary Greek king who was known as a great warrior and for the sage advice he offered younger soldiers.

ELAIN

Elain is Welsh in origin and means "fawn." Elaine is associated with the Greek name Helen meaning "light, bright one."
Fun fact: Elain is an anagram of Aelin.

NYX

Nyx is the Greek mythological goddess and personification of the Night. She is the mother of Day (Hemera) and Darkness (Erebus). She often appears alongside other celestial deities such as Selene, Helios, and Eos.

ILLYRIANS

EMERIE

Emerie has Old German origins and means "home strength, brave, powerful."

ENALIUS

In Greek mythology Enyalius is a son of Ares but is also a byname for the god of war. He is often seen as the god of soldiers and warriors from the Ares cult.

DEVLON

Devlon is Gaelic in origin and related to the name Devlin meaning "fierce courage."

BALTHAZAR

Balthazar is Akkadian in origin meaning "God protects the King." It is a name commonly attributed to the wise man who gifted myrrh to the Christ child (the myrrh symbolizing the future death of a king). It is an alternate form of King Belshazzar who played a pivotal role in a coup d'état that overthrew a Neo-Babylonian king.
ACOTAR role: Balthazar helped Nesta during the Blood Rite.

PROTEUS

Proteus is a prophetic sea god in Greek mythology and means "versatile, mutable, capable of assuming many forms."
ACOTAR role: Proteus is Emerie's father and was killed in the war with Hybern.

BELLIUS

May refer to Belus, the Babylonian god of war.
ACOTAR role: Bellius is Emerie's cousin and was slain by Cassian during the Blood Rite.

KALLON

No clear references found, but kalon in Ancient Greek translates to "ideal perfect beauty."
ACOTAR role: Kallon incited the Illyrians against the Night Court leaders and was ultimately slain during the Blood Rite.

HEWN CITY

KEIR

Keir is Gaelic, meaning "dark," and is related to the Irish name Ciarán. In Greek mythology, the Keres (singular being Ker) were female death spirits who personified violent death. There is a suggested connection between the Keres and the Valkyries of Norse mythology, each representing opposite ideals; the Valkyries being benevolent deities in death, versus the Keres representing feasting destruction.

THANATOS

In Greek mythology, Thanatos is the personification of death. He is a minor figure, often referred to but rarely appearing in person (I see what you did there, SJM).
ACOTAR role: Thanatos is mentioned briefly by Keir during the alliance meeting with Eris.

THE LIBRARY

CLOTHO

In ancient Greek mythology, Clotho is the youngest goddess of the Three Fates and spins the thread of human life. Her name means "spinner."

MERRILL

Merrill is of British origin meaning "sparkling sea, sea-bright."

GWYNETH BERDARA

Gwyneth is Welsh in origin and means "blessed, happiness." In Irish mythology, the Lady Gwyn is a headless woman (cough, Catrin, cough) who chases wanderers at night. In Arthurian mythology, Guinevere has an evil half-sister—"False" Guinevere—who bewitches Arthur.

ANANKE

Ananke means "necessity, fate personified." In Greek mythology she is one of the primordial deities and is the personification of necessity and inevitability.
ACOTAR role: A Priestess who joins in the training to become a Valkyrie.

DEIRDRE

Deirdre is Gaelic in origin and means "broken-hearted, wanderer." The name is associated with a tragic heroine in Irish mythology.
ACOTAR role: A Priestess who joins in the training to become a Valkyrie.

ILANA

Illana is Hebrew in origin nd means "tree, bright light." It stems from the name Elena and is potentially related to the name Ileana, a beautiful young female fairy in various myths.
ACOTAR role: A Priestess who joins in the training to become a Valkyrie.

LORELEI

Lorelei in German in origin and means "alluring, temptress." In German folklore, she is a siren-like seductress.
ACOTAR role: A Priestess who joins in the training to become a Valkyrie.

ROSLIN

Roslin is Scottish in origin and means "rose, red-haired."
ACOTAR role: A Priestess who joins in the training to become a Valkyrie.

RIVEN

Riven derives from Old Norse meaning "to split, tear asunder."
ACOTAR role: A Priestess who avoids contact with strangers and whose background is unknown.

SIDE CHARACTERS

MADJA

Madja is Slavic in origin and may mean "splendid, noble one." In Arabic it means "the women with glory." It is related to the name Madeleine meaning "from Magdala."

NUALA

Nuala is Irish in origin and means "fair shouldered one." In modern Irish storytelling it means "born of the sea." It is considered a diminutive form of the name Fionnuala, a mythological figure who was the daughter of a sea god.

CERRIDWEN

Cerridwen is an enchantress in Welsh mythology. She is said to possess the cauldron of poetic inspiration and is regarded by many as the Celtic goddess of rebirth, transformation, and inspiration.

RITA

Rita stems from the name Margarita and comes from the Greek word meaning "pearl." The Greeks promoted pearls as a symbol of honesty and integrity.
ACOTAR role: Rita owns the "how does the IC not know the clientele is gay" bar.

SEVENDA

No clear connection found, though venda in Latin means "sell" while sev means "strew, spread" and enda means "end." Could also potentially be related to the number seven.
ACOTAR role: Owns a restaurant the IC frequents.

NEVE

Neve is of Latin origin and means "snow."
ACOTAR role: The jeweler from whom Rhys buys jewelry for Amren in ACOFAS.

POLINA

Polina has Latin origins and derives from Apollo, though it could also be seen as a variant of Paulina/Paul meaning "little, the younger."
ACOTAR role: The faerie who owned Feyre's art studio before her untimely death.

RESSINA

Resina means "resin of the pine." Plants secret resin as a protective response, guarding them from insects and pathogens.
ACOTAR role: Ressina opens the art studio with Feyre. She has green skin and stood outside her shop in response to Hybern's attack on Velaris, protecting the terrified faeries inside.

ARANEA

Aranea is Greek in origin and denotes a genus of orb-weaving spiders.
ACOTAR role: Aranea is the weaver who created the Void cloth.

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MAIN CHARACTERS

TAMLIN

From the "Ballad of Tam Lin," a legendary ballad from the borderlands of Scotland. Reminiscent of the fairytale Beauty & the Beast where a mortal woman plucks a rose and encounters a man in the forest, later learning he is captive to faeries. She must hold onto him as he is transformed into various beasts and upon his rescue, the faerie Queen muses that she should have taken out his eyes (Lucien, anyone?) or capture his heart (Tamlin's stone heart) to prevent his escape.

LUCIEN

Lucien is French in origin and means "light." Lucian was also the name of a Hellenized Syrian satirist who was known for his tongue-in-cheek style is said to be the inventor of comic dialogue.

ALIS

Alis is a variant of Alice and translates to "noble, exalted."

SIDE CHARACTERS

IANTHE

Ianthe is Greek in origin and means "she who delights." In Greek mythology she is a water-nymph daughter of Oceanus and a companion to Persephone when she was abducted by Hades.

ANDRAS

Andras has Welsh origins and means "manly, brave."

BRON

Bron is Old English and means "brown."

HART

Hart has Irish origins and means "hero, brave, firm." A hart is also the term for a male deer and in Celtic mythology, the white hart is said to appear when one is transgressing a taboo (Tamlin's whipping of his other sentry comes to mind).

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MAIN CHARACTERS

BERON VANSERRA

Beron is French in origin and is a pet form of the name Bero meaning "bear."
Vanserra is a combination of the prefix van meaning "from, of" and serra meaning "saw, view from a high place" or "mountain range." Vanserra can be said to mean "of the mountains."

ERIS

In ancient Greek mythology, Eris is the Greek goddess of strife and discord. Her Roman equivalent, Discord, is the goddess of chaos. She is associated with the war goddess Enyo who is frequently associated with the war god Ares.

SIDE CHARACTERS

JESMINDA

Jesminder is Indian in origin meaning "flower queen."

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MAIN CHARACTERS

TARQUIN

Tarquin is of Latin origin and means "ruler, strong soldier." Two of the seven kings of Rome bore the name.

VARIAN

Varian is of Latin origin and means "variable."

CRESSEIDA

Cressida derives from Chryseis and means "golden." She is a character associated with the Trojan War and is the archetype of a faithless lover.

SIDE CHARACTERS

NOSTRUS

Nostrum comes from the Latin noster meaning "our, ours." Nostos is an Ancient Greek literary theme concerning an epic hero returning home, often by sea. It is deemed a high level of heroism or greatness and focuses on the hero retaining or elevating their identity while often resisting temptation.
ACOTAR role: The High Lord prior to Tarquin who was slain by Amarantha after participating in a rebellion Under the Mountain.

BRUTIUS

May refer to the Latin name Brutus meaning "heavy, dull."
ACOTAR role: Mercifully slain by Rhys Under the Mountain after his attempted escape.

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MAIN CHARACTERS

HELION

Helios is the Ancient Greek god personifying the sun. He is often depicted with a solar crown and drives a horse-drawn chariot through the sky. He played a significant role in ancient magic and spells and is the son of the Titan Theia and brother to Selene.

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MAIN CHARACTERS

KALLIAS

Callias is Greek in origin and means "beauty, beautiful voice." He is a diplomatic and wealthy figure in Ancient Greece.

VIVIANNE

From the Latin word vivianus meaning "alive." Commonly associated with the Irish name Bébinn meaning "beautiful, fair one" and is the name of an underworld goddess in both Irish and Welsh mythology.

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THESAN

Thesan is the Etruscan goddess of the dawn. Greeks identified her with Eos, the goddess and personification of the dawn. She is sometimes depicted with wings.

NUAN

Nuan is Mandarin and means "warm, genial."

THE PEREGRYN

The peregrine is a falcon renowned for its speed.
Fun fact: The peregrine is the fastest member of the animal kingdom and can reach speeds of over 200mph.

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AMARANTHA

Amaranths is Greek in origin and means "unfading." The amaranthus flower, often deep red in color, is said to symbolize immortality as it blooms for so long.

BRANNAGH

Brannagh is of Irish origin and denotes a "beautiful female with hair dark as a raven."

DAGDAN

In Irish mythology, the Dagda is considered the chief god of the Tuatha Dé Danaan. His name means "the good god, the great god."

CLYTHIA

In Greek mythology, Clytia is a water nymph who loved the sun god Helios. Helios left her for another woman after coming under the influence of Aphrodite. Clytia exposed the affair to the other woman's father, but eventually lost herself in mourning for Helios's love. Her name means "glorious, renowned."
ACOTAR role: Amarantha's sister.

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HISTORICAL FIGURES

THEIA

Theia is a Titan and is the Ancient Greek goddess of sight and vision. She is the parent of Helios, Selene, and Eos. She is most known not for her own role, but for that of her childrens'. Her name means "goddess, godly."

SILENE

Selene is the Ancient Greek goddess and personification of the moon. She is the daughter of Hyperion and Theia and sister to Helios and Eos.

HELENA

Comes from the Green name Helen meaning "shining light." There are various Helens in Greek mythology: Helen of Troy, Helen a friend to Aphrodite, and Helene the Amazonian who fought Achilles.

FIONN

Fionn is of Irish origin and means "fair-haired." In Irish folklore, Fionn Mac Cumhaill was a leader of a band of young hunter-warriors.

PELIAS

Pelias is Greek in origin and means "rock pigeon." Pelias was the king of Ioclus while Peleus was the king of Phthia. Peleus was husband to Thetis, father to Achilles, and left several (men and women) dead in his wake, both through means of accident and betrayal, fleeing more than once to escape punishment.

OLEANNA

Oleanna derives from the Greek name Helene meaning "sun ray, shining light."
ACOTAR role: The High Priestess who dipped Gwydion in the Cauldron.

REPORTED DECEASED

CATRIN BERDARA

Catrin is Greek in origin and means "clear, pure." It's commonly used in Wales and is connected with the ancient goddess Hecate, who is the goddess of witchcraft, sorcery, and necromancy.

MINOR CHARACTERS

TANWYN

Tanwan is of Welsh origin and means "white fire."
ACOTAR role: Tanwyn was a Valkyrie and Cassian's former lover.

OSIAN

Osian is Welsh meaning "young deer" and derives from the Irish legendary poet and warrior Oisín, who was regarded as the greatest poet of Ireland and a warrior of the Fianna (small warrior-hunter bands). He was a demigod son of Fionn Mac Cumhaill and Sadhbh.
ACOTAR role: The author of A Brief History of the Great Sieges

RABATH

Rabath is an anagram of Bharat, one of the names of India. Derived from the Sanskrit word bharata, meaning "to bear, be maintained" it can also mean "one who is engaged in search of knowledge."
ACOTAR role: Lord of the Western Wind and ancestor to Merrill.

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JURIAN

Jurian is Greek in origin and means "farmer, earthworker."

GRAYSEN

Graysen is of English origin and translates to "son of the steward/gray-haired man."

NOLAN

Nolan is Irish in origin and denotes a "child of nobility, champion."
ACOTAR role: Nolan is Graysen's father.

ISAAC HALE

Isaac is Hebrew in origin and means "one who laughs or rejoices." Hale is Old English in origin and means "nook, recess" and denoted someone who lived in a nook or hollow.

TOMAS MANDRAY

Thomas is Hebrew in origin and means "twin." No clear reference to Mandray, though Mandrew is Greek and means "man, warrior."
ACOTAR role: Tomas was Nesta's former betrothed.

CLARE BEDDOR

Clare is French in origin and means "bright, clear." No reference found for Beddor.

AUNT RIPLEIGH

Ripleigh is Old English and means "shouting man's meadow." It is connected to the name Ripley meaning "strip of clearing in the woods."
ACOTAR role: Aunt Ripleigh is the feigned aunt Feyre takes care of.

Ms. Laurent

Laurent is French in origin and means "from Laurentum" and "bay laurel."
ACOTAR role: Ms. Laurent is the mortal caretaker of the Archeron estate.

BRIAR

Briar is of British origin and means "thorny bush of wild roses, brambles."
ACOTAR role: Briar is the mortal woman rescued by Feyre and Azriel.

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HUMAN QUEENS

VASSA

Vasilissa is Greek in origin and means "queen, empress." It is also the name of a Christian child martyr who was left unharmed during her capture, but after her release was slain in a field as she prayed.

BRIALLYN

Briallen is a Welsh name meaning "primrose." Primrose comes from the Latin word meaning "first" and the primrose flower often represents youth and renewal (SJM, you dog—this may be my favorite tongue-in-cheek naming thing you did).
ACOTAR role: Briallyn is the first queen who enters the Cauldron and is rewarded with immortality as a withered old hag.

DEMETRA

Demeter was the mother of Persephone, an Ancient Greek goddess of the harvest and an emblem of growth.
ACOTAR role: Demetra was the golden queen who provided the mortal half of The Book of Breathings to the Night Court and was subsequently slain by the Attor.

ANDROMACHE

Andromache means "fighter of men." In Greek mythology, she was representative of the suffering of Trojan women during the war and was famous for her virtue and fidelity. Andromache was also the name of a famous Greek Amazonian who fell at Troy.
ACOTAR role: Andromache was the former mortal lover of Mor.

FAE CHARACTERS

DRAKON

Drakon is of Greek origin and means "dragon."

NEPHELLE

In Greek mythology Nephele, meaning "cloud," is a cloud nymph who is considered the goddess of loyalty, generosity, peace, and shyness.

THE SERAPHIM

A seraph is a celestial being regarded as belonging to the highest order of angels in Christian angelology.

HUMAN CHARACTERS

MIRYAM

Miriam of of Hebrew origin and means "sea of sorrow." She is the Biblical daughter of Amram and Jochebed and sister to Aaron and Moses.

URSTIN

No plausible connections found. Potentially an anagram for Rustin, an English name meaning "Rust's estate" or Surtin, a Middle English name meaning "reliable, trustworthy."
ACOTAR role: Urstin is a cousin of the Archerons via their mother.

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MAIN CHARACTERS

THE SURIEL

Suriel is a Hebrew name meaning "God's prince, divine authority." May also reference Sariel, an angel from Judais tradition, one of the seven holy angels. He is considered to be a primordial power invoked for his protective powers.

ATTOR

Possibly an altered form of the German tatter meaning "goblin, puppet." Likely inspired by the Ahool, a bat or primate-like winged cryptid said to live in the jungles of Indonesia.

DEATH GODS

THE BONE CARVER

Self-explanatory.

STRYGA AKA THE WEAVER

Stryzga is a female demon in Slavic mythology similar to a vampire. Stryzga stems from the mythological Strix of Ancient Greece, referring to birds of ill omen (and also witches) who fed on human flesh and blood.

KOSCHEI

Koschei is a common villain in East Slavic tales. He is often given the epithet of "the Immortal, the Deathless" and is said to hide his death inside nested objects for protection. He often takes the role of a malevolent rival figure who competes or entraps a male hero's love interest.
Fun note: The love interest trapping tidbit has interesting connotations for both Lucien (regarding Vassa) and Azriel (regarding Eris). For a breakdown of the Azriel x Koschei scene in ACOSF, see HERE.

PRISON INMATES

BRYAXIS

Bryaxis was a famous Ancient Greek sculptor. His name may mean "delight, lust."

LANTHYS

No information or connections found (and it is KILLING me).

LUBIA

In Albanian mythology, the lubia is a multi-headed, serpentine-like, female watestorm demon-dragon. Her irresistible taste of flesh leans toward that of young girls.
ACOTAR role: Also called Seven-Headed Lubia, imprisoned for preying on girls on the western coast of Prythian.

ANNIS

The Black Annis is a bogeyman in English folklore, depicted as a blue-faced witch with iron claws who has a taste for human flesh, especially that of children.
ACOTAR role: Also called Blue Annis, imprisoned for her craving of female flesh.

VESPERUS

In Greek mythology, Hesperus is the Evening Star. Her Roman equivalent is named Vesper.
ACOTAR role: Vesperus is the Asteri found beneath the Prison.

MINOR CHARACTERS

MIDDENGARD WYRM

Midgard is the realm of human beings in Norse mythology, ie Earth. Wrym is an Old Norse word and refers to a wingless and limbless dragon.

THE BOGGE

Bogge is a Middle English word meaning "frightening specter" from which the term bogeyman originated. Bogeyman have no specific appearance and conceptions vary drastically by culture.
Fun fact: A boggart is a supernatural being from English folklore and also derives from the term bogge (Harry Potter facts, yo).

NAGA

Throughout various Asian religious traditions, Angus are a divine or semi-divine race of half-human, half-serpent beings residing in the netherworld.
Fun fact: A female naga is called a Nagi or a Nagini (more HP facts, yo).

MARTAX

A manticore is a Persian mythological creature similar to the Egyptian sphinx. The martax describe in ACOTAR has a head like a lion's and three rows of teeth. A manticore has the body of a lion and eats its victims whole with its three rows of teeth. The term manticore stems from Latin and Ancient Greek.

PUCA

Púca is Irish for "spirit, ghost" while puca is Old English for "goblin." They were said to be shape-changers.

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MEALLAN

Meallán is Irish in origin meaning "small pleasant one."
ACOTAR role: Helion's pegasus.

ELLIA

Ellia is of various origins and can translate to "beautiful fairy maiden" with hints to the "Otherworld."
ACOTAR role: Mor's horse.

-----------------
For Part 2: World Map, Items, Terms & Other, click HERE

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
He was back at Smiley’s taproom with a petite brunette dangling from his arm, the young signal operator whose acquaintance he’d made while assigned as a liaison officer with the Exploratory Corps. There he was, all big and stiff in his brand-new dress uniform, trying desperately to impress someone who was astronomically more attractive than him and making a priceless ass of himself.
“So,” she purred, eyeing him over the rim of her glass, “Tell me again about the surface. What’s it like wandering up there above all us wee mortals?”
“Erm,” Rene cleared his throat, feeling a hot flush creeping up his reddening neck, “It’s, uh, quite remarkable really. Simply fantastic.”
Having run out of things to say, Rene took a snootful of his drink in an attempt to sharpen his wits. It was so hard to focus with her hanging onto his every word like this.
“Ooh, you make it sound so exciting,” Deborah had tittered. Or was it Devorah? Her name had gotten lost in the fumes of fermented honeydew clouding up his brain. Perhaps another sip would jog his memory. Rene downed the horrid swill and coughed as it burned its way down his throat and up his nostrils.
“Would you look at the state of him!” someone guffawed, slapping Rene on the back, “Cool as cucumbers under fire when there’s a hundred dirty Amits breathing down our necks, but prop him up next to a lass and he goes completely to pieces.”
“Ah, piss off,” Rene said fondly. He turned to see Lethway sitting next to him flanked by two buxom blondes, an Amit axe buried deep in his neck.
“I’m only saying. You’ve got to keep your head on your shoulders, man,” Lethway said, as his own tumbled off sideways and hung on by a flap of gristle, “We’ve got a long night ahead of us with our fine lady friends here. It wouldn’t do for you to be sleeping on the job.’
“Why, Lethie my dearest. I’m sure Mr. Louvoture has the…stamina…to keep up,” the brunette said demurely, batting her eyelids at Rene, “Go on. You were telling me about how amazing it is up there.”
“Yes,” Rene puffed out his cheeks and marshalled his scattered thoughts, “It’s like this, see…how can I put it? Words can hardy do it justice.”
“Try me,” Deborah/Devorah said, tugging at his arm with her warm hands. The girl was practically throwing herself at him no matter how badly he was fumbling the ball. Rene my lad, if you don’t make it tonight you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life, Rene thought to himself.
“Alrighty then,” Rene said, deciding to risk everything by gaze deep into her eyes, which if the romance novels were to be believed, were windows into a woman’s soul. She had very pretty irises, all velvety and shining with something bordering on hero-worship.
“When you’re topside and the suns go down beyond the hills, and the clouds weep tears of crimson as the sky rolls over into a bowl of stars holding all the universe above you, it feels like…like…” Rene trailed off.
“What?” she whispered into the hush that had settled over the bar.
“Well, it feels a little like this,” Rene said softly, leaning in for a kiss. Her lips tasted his, the tip of her tongue quivering with longing. She drew him into her embrace, gripping him around the waist and pressing into him.
Awfully forward, these girls from Mound Sierra, Rene thought with some alarm. Not that he was complaining. They spent an eternity entwined like this, the whole taproom cheering and egging them on.
“Woof!” Rene broke away to catch his breath, “Is it me, or is it getting hard to breathe in here?”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” Devorah/Deborah said impatiently, wrapping a leg around his and holding him tight. Rene put a hand on her thigh and found that she was surprisingly hairy for a girl. Feeling a little repulsed at this he tried to peel himself away, but found that he couldn’t move any of his limbs.
“Mmph. Hmmgh!” he mumbled, his voice muffled by her insistent mouth. He cocked an eyebrow over her shoulder at Lethway, who’d just propped his head back up onto its stump.
“Cheers, big fellow!” Lethway tipped a glass in his direction and downed his glass in one gulp, the drink trickling out of him through a large bullet hole in his chest.
“I hate it when that happens,” Lethway said, staring sadly at it. He looked back up at Rene and said: “Oy! What did I tell you about falling asleep on the job. Isn’t it about time you got moving, trooper?”
“Not yet,” Devorah/Deborah sighed, kissing his neck, “First he has to tell me how much he likes my eyes. You do like my eyes, don’t you?”
“Why, of course darling—” Rene began. But then she pulled back to look him in face, and the words curdled and died on his lips.
Gone was the petite brunette in her oh-so-short skirt, replaced by a furry, many-eyed freak with quivering mouthparts. In an instant Smiley’s taproom was torn away to reveal the awful truth of his current circumstances: he was hanging upside down from a tree and caught in monster’s deadly embrace. He was trussed up by his legs which had gone completely numb, and his wrists were bound together by loops of silk that felt as strong as steel chains. Yelling incoherently, Rene started wriggling like a worm on a hook. The creature tightened its hold and pressed its fangs against his throat, delicately avoiding piercing the skin while looking at him through its row of eyes.
It was a warning. Rene wisely heeded it and stopped struggling. After a long moment the monster let him go, although they both continued to dangle upside down. Rene stared at its face in horrid fascination. He saw now that it had four eyes on its flat, squarish face, the centermost pair dwarfing the two ancillary ones on either side of them. In the place of a lower jaw it had four vertical mouthparts, the shorter ones in the middle tipped with curved fangs while the rest functioned like antennae, moving constantly with little taps and clicks, its grotesque head nodding along with them.
Rene thought the motion was reminiscent of a person’s lips as they mumbled, and he had a disturbing suspicion that the monster was trying to talk to him. The fact that he was still alive also lent credence to this theory. After all, if Amits were intelligent lifeforms, why couldn’t this one be as well? Hoping against hope, he stammered out:
“I—I don’t understand. I’m afraid I can’t speak your language. Haven’t got the equipment for it. See?”
Rene bared his teeth at it in a forced smile, tying show it what he meant. But the monster recoiled from him, pushing off the trunk behind him and leaping back some twenty meters away from him. It alighted on a tangle of creeper vines and hung there in all its awful majesty, eyeing Rene through its four unblinking orbs. It had ten appendages including its stubby antennae, each of them ending in a three-clawed hand. Its shoulder and thigh muscles were enormous, though its potbellied torso was as round as a wagon wheel, sporting a disgusting hump of flesh on its back. No doubt it contained even more musculature to support its powerful limbs, which at the moment were bunched up and ready to spring.
He had startled it, Rene realized. His own mouth was probably just as alien and repulsive to its sensibilities as its physiology was to him. Before he could derive some small satisfaction from that, more of the monsters emerged to join the first, darting out of the shadows with an unnatural, jittery motion. They moved in stops and starts, periods of immobility interrupted by burst of blinding speed, here one moment and gone the next.
“It shpeaksh…” Rene heard someone say in a voice somewhere between a dry croak and the gurgling of a water pipe. Rene looked around for the source of the voice and was shocked to find that it was issuing from the largest monster, the one reclining on the vines like some misshapen ape. He couldn’t believe his own ears. It was speaking Fleet cantish, mangling its way through the words somehow despite the total absence of a jawbone.
“Gallivant?” another queried with clearer pronunciation.
“No blade-wing, thish,” the leader clicked its palps thoughtfully, “Too shoft. Too schtupid. Came from the fire giant. Dropped a sheed pod, it did, like a tree in the wind. The sheed shpun a web and floated. Down, down, down.”
“Shoft like a grub,” agreed the smallest monster somewhat belatedly. A frothy substance with the consistency of saliva dripped from its fangs. It took a step towards Rene, stiffening all over. Before he could even blink it had launched itself through the air directly at him. In the same instant the leader also leapt, slamming bodily into its subordinate and throwing it to the ground.
“No,” the leader rasped, letting the other monster limp away having been suitably chastised, “Questions firshht. The fire giant. Are you itsh hatchling?”
It was staring at Rene when it said this. Rene thought quickly. It was a binary question and he felt that his life hung in the balance, the odds being even either way. Heads or tails? From what he’d heard it was clear that the only thing keeping him from lining the stomachs of these monsters was their abiding curiosity. They had witnessed the Divine Engine and his impromptu ejection from it, and they were under the impression that it had been a living thing and that he was its offspring. It followed that the best thing to do was to maintain their interest in him for as long as possible while he thought of an escape plan. Heads it was, then. Rene said:
“Yes. Yes, I am its ‘hatchling’.”
He glanced around until he found his sword where he had left it leaning against the buttress root, still in its sheathe next to the survival kit. If he could just reach down and grasp it in his hands…
“Good,” said the abomination, “And know you the secret of itsh power?”
“Of course,” Rene said, slowly and surreptitiously stretching out his arms, reaching for the sword hilt with all his might.
“Good, good,” the abomination crooned. There was a blur of motion and the leader materialized in front of him, their faces inches apart. It seized him by the hairs and yanked him close.
“Then I, too, will know its inner workingshh. Once I open your head and drink deep from your mind.”
Should have gone with tails, Rene thought as it lunged for him.
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

Every time he saw Juniper, someone was trying to kill her.
He opened the second story window and let her in, as his best friend Troy laid down as much cover fire as could be achieved with a Hawken plains rifle. She was light enough to find climbing purchase on the rough-hewn support post.
"I've got six shots in me, and one of them is lead," she told him as she climbed in the window, pulling on a metal flask that singed his nose from four feet away.
It was the little details that stuck out to him in moments like these, and he couldn't help but notice that a single wild curl had escaped the back of her modest black head covering.
"Hello, Juniper. Why are the Sioux after you?"
"Probably because I stole one of their horses to get here," she said as she reloaded her revolver.
A shot burst through the top of the window, shattering both panes. Instinctively, they all dropped to the floor. That seemed to be all. By the time they picked themselves up, the Indians were riding out of town with the stolen horse.
"That was a really expensive window! The nearest glassmaker is in Denver!" Jack's best friend said.
Juniper's voice barely shook as she asked, "How far to the doctor?"
Jack shook his head.
"The doctor has gone to the next town over. Cholera outbreak. I think I can do a better job removing the bullet than last time...but drink the rest of your liquor."
It went better than he thought it would. She screamed a little, he screamed a little, but the bullet came right out.
The recovery was worse. Not because it was more painful, but because Juniper was so restless she kept tearing her stitches.
By day three, she was trying to convince Jack to go to Canada with her to hunt man eating grizzly bears.
"There's a pretty good bounty," she said.
Jack put the last stitch in place on her shoulder.
"Does anyone want to kill you in Canada?"
"What?"
"Just thinking aloud."
A fierce wind whistled past his little wooden cabin, but it was pleasant enough inside. A small pot of coffee simmered on the wood stove.
This time, wherever she went, he was going with her. He'd spent the last year of her absence in regret for watching her ride away.
It was rumors of gold to be found further west that ultimately captured Juniper's interest.
They left on a bright Saturday morning, with two horses and the most noisy and belligerent pack mule to ever live. They had courage and supplies, but nothing could have prepared them for the journey ahead.

Every time he saw Juniper, someone was trying to kill her.
He opened the second story window and let her in, as his best friend Troy laid down as much cover fire as could be achieved with a Hawken plains rifle. She was light enough to find climbing purchase on the rough-hewn support post.
"I've got six shots in me, and one of them is lead," she told him as she climbed in the window, pulling on a metal flask that singed his nose from four feet away.
It was the little details that stuck out to him in moments like these, and he couldn't help but notice that a single wild curl had escaped the back of her modest black head covering.
"Hello, Juniper. Why are the Sioux after you?"
"Probably because I stole one of their horses to get here," she said as she reloaded her revolver.
A shot burst through the top of the window, shattering both panes. Instinctively, they all dropped to the floor. That seemed to be all. By the time they picked themselves up, the Indians were riding out of town with the stolen horse.
"That was a really expensive window! The nearest glassmaker is in Denver!" Jack's best friend said.
Juniper's voice barely shook as she asked, "How far to the doctor?"
Jack shook his head.
"The doctor has gone to the next town over. Cholera outbreak. I think I can do a better job removing the bullet than last time...but drink the rest of your liquor."
It went better than he thought it would. She screamed a little, he screamed a little, but the bullet came right out.
The recovery was worse. Not because it was more painful, but because Juniper was so restless she kept tearing her stitches.
By day three, she was trying to convince Jack to go to Canada with her to hunt man eating grizzly bears.
"There's a pretty good bounty," she said.
Jack put the last stitch in place on her shoulder.
"Does anyone want to kill you in Canada?"
"What?"
"Just thinking aloud."
A fierce wind whistled past his little wooden cabin, but it was pleasant enough inside. A small pot of coffee simmered on the wood stove.
This time, wherever she went, he was going with her. He'd spent the last year of her absence in regret for watching her ride away.
It was rumors of gold to be found further west that ultimately captured Juniper's interest.
They left on a bright Saturday morning, with two horses and the most noisy and belligerent pack mule to ever live. They had courage and supplies, but nothing could have prepared them for the journey ahead.