This is my proposition for the MMO, The Legend of Zelda: War of Hyrule.
Object of the game: The armies of Queen Zelda and King Ganondorf are at war. The game is over upon the assassination of either. The player must choose a faction and cannot change sides until the defeat of Ganondorf or Zelda. It will all start again after. Ganondorf and Zelda are controlled by humans whose full time job is playing the game. There will be six people playing as each. Three people taking an 8 hour shift Monday-Friday and three people on Saturday and Sunday. When one has to call in sick or use PTO, one will take over another's shift. They can turn on AI when they need to go to the bathroom or out to lunch. The people playing as Link and Dark Link are rewarded to the player with the highest kills of their respective factions.
Ganondorf has a country to the north of Hyrule, over the gorge, past the badlands complete with it's own castle, depths, sky islands, and surface. Players to his faction start there. The country is named Drogmire.
Hyrule has been restored and even expanded. Hyrule Castle is even bigger because they put in a middle section of the castle when it got separated and they now have a really big basement going to the bottom of the depths. The final boss area in The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom is repurposed to be part of Hyrule Castle. The damaged areas are also repaired. Hyrule Castle Town Market has been restored to contain a variety of stores.
The game is $10 a month. $5 with a subscription to Nintendo Switch Online. The players of the winning faction get the next month free. Everyone pays the first month. If multiple victories happen in one month, only the first one counts. The monthly fee will contribute to the wages of the people playing as Zelda and Ganondorf, maintenance, and adding additional features.
There are ten playable races. Five to each faction. Everyone starts out with 23 hearts. 17 shrines per race. Other races cannont enter the shrine designed to that particular race. There is a boss at the end of every shrine, but only 17 total. You can rechallenge three of the bosses a day. Upon the completion of a shine a heart container will be awarded. Stamina vessels will be purchased for 2000 rupees each. More shrines may be added as time goes on.
There will be a new separate armor set for shoes.
You can create your own character's physical appearance in an avatar creator. Players have the option of letting AI suggest a physical appearance. In order to avoid everyone wearing the same looking armor, AI will decide what each set of armor looks like or you can edit it yourself. The effect of the armor is the same for everyone. The Hateno Dye Shop can make other alterations besides color change.
Fast travel is limited to once per day. Completed shrines are the fast travel points and the map builder. Shrines also act as a launchpad. Maps are unavailable in enemy territory. This prevents an absolute frenzy to one location when the locations of Zelda or Ganondorf are revealed. Fast travel cannot be done inside enemy territory except to exit. Entering is not allowed.
The new type of Goo called Bliss will he introduced. It is the glowing yellow version of Gloom. Those in Zelda's Faction will experience healing in Bliss while those in Ganondorf's faction will be hurt by Bliss. There will also be a new food called Light Clumps. They offer Bliss Warding for Ganondorf's Factions, but are poison to Zelda's Faction. Dark Clumps are poisonous to Ganondorf's faction. It will cause poison damage if used as a weapon such as fused to an arrow or a melee weapon.
Powers of Purah pads for Zelda's Faction and Astor pads for Ganondorf's faction include Ultrahand, Fuse, Autobuild, Ascend, Rewind, Stasis, and the three new abilities: Grow, Shrink, and Arrow Prefusion. They also act as phones to communicate with other players over a distance.
Playable races to Zelda's faction.
Hylian: Level 3 Stealth Unarmed ability is Earthwake. Sprint upon pressing B. Material drops upon defeat: femurs and ears.
Rito: Level 2 Cold Resistance Unarmed ability is Gust Flight upon pressing B. No stamina is consumed when gliding, but stamina is consumed when obtaining lift. Material drops upon defeat:Beaks and wings.
Goron: Level 2 Fireproof Unarmed ability is Charge. Rolling upon pressing B. Cannot swim, but can walk on bottom of water. Cannot ride horses except giant ones. Material Drops upon defeat are back shells and hands.
Zora: Level 3 Swim Speed. Unarmed ability is Water Slash. Sprinting upon pressing B on land, super speed swimming in water. Cannot drown, even when stamina is depleted. Can swim underwater. Material Drops upon defeat: Head and arm fins.
Gerudo: Level 2 Heat Resistance. Unarmed ability is Riju's Fury. Sprinting upon pressing B. Materials dropped upon defeat: arm bones and rib cages.
Playable characters to Ganondorf's faction.
Bokoblin: Level 3 Speed Up. Unarmed ability is charge. Sprint upon pressing B. Materials dropped on defeat: horns and fangs.
Moblin: Level 3 Bliss Warding Resistance. Unarmed ability is Ground Pound. Sprint upon pressing B. Cannot ride horses except giant ones. Materials dropped upon defeat: horns and fangs.
Lynel: Attack Up Level 3. Unarmed ability is Fire Breath. Dash upon pressing B at the cost of one full stamina wheel. Cannot ride horses, shield surf, or paraglide, or climb. Materials dropped upon defeat: Sharp horn and blunt horn.
Lizalfo: Shock Resistance Level 3 Unarmed ability is Water Ball Spit. Sprint upon pressing B on land, super speed in water. Cannot drown even when stamina is depleted. Can swim underwater. Materials dropped upon defeat: horns and fins.
Gibdo: Defense Up Level 3. Unarmed ability is Sandstorm. Flight upon pressing B. No stamina consumed when gliding, but stamina is consumed when obtaining lift. Materials dropped upon defeat: ribcage and wings.
Ganondorf, Zelda, Link, and Dark Link all have 40 hearts, three stamina wheels, and all max level buffs. All their stock weapons are unbreakable. Melee weapons do 100 damage unfused, bows do 50 damage, and shields have 90 Shield Guard.
In game communication is avaliable. A USB keyboard can be plugged into the Nintendo Switch. Voice chat is also available. Since all Gerudos must be female and all Gorons must be male, there is also an AI voice changer you can use to sound like your opposite gender. Not that a wrong gender sounding voice is unacceptable. It can also be used to personalize your voice for your other characters if you choose.
All forageable materials respawn every midnight in the Pacific time zone because that is where Nintendo of America is located.
Players can buy, sell, donate, or trade items at their own agreed price. To prevent inflation, there will be only 2 billion rupees in the game. The prices in shops will be adjusted by AI in a supply and demand algorithm.
Local 2 player splitscreen is available.
There will be robot factories where people can assemble their own robots that are AI controlled to hunt down enemies.
There will be a real estate system. Players can buy and sell land and houses. They can design their own homes and store any excess items there.
Champions and Divine Beasts
Whomever has the most kills within that race is labeled the Champion. Each Champion is rewarded with a mansion that has its own armory, storage space, and garage for their own Divine Beast. Only Champions may use Divine Beasts. Kills made while piloting a Divine Beasts do not count towards your kills to keep your position as a Champion or to play as Link or Dark Link because Divine Beasts are overpowered. The Divine Beasts include the ones from the Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild and more for Hylians, and all of Ganondorf's faction.
Divine Beast Vah Epona: The Divine Beast that is a horse. Piloted by the Hylian Champion.
Divine Beast Vah Boko: The Divine Beast that is a boar. Piloted by the Bokoblin Champion.
Divine Beasts Vah Ursus. The Divine Beasts that is a bear. Piloted by the Moblin Champion.
Divine Beast Vah Leonis. Divine Beast that is a lion. Piloted by the Lynel Champion.
Divine Beast Vah Saurian. Divine Beast that is a serpent. Piloted by the Lizalfo Champion.
Divine Beast Vah Noctis. Divine Beast that is a bat. Piloted by the Gibdo Champion.
Kill Counts against AI based enemies do not count for being a Champion, Link, or Dark Link.
Death
Upon dying, another race within your faction must be chosen. Your other unplayed races will join you as avatars. The avatars can take damage and be defeated. Food can be used to heal Avatars. Avatars can be double teamed to use unarmed ability. Avatars have unbreakable stock weapons. Avatars can be healed with food. Upon the defeat of all five races, all can respawn. Upon your defeat you lose 1 of your weapons, bows, and shields for any surrounding players to grab. You will also lose 10 materials chosen at random.
New items Goron Bow: Normal arrows into fire arrows automatically.
Light Clump: Bliss Warding food. Poisonous to Zelda's faction.everything isthmus.
Armor of the Depths (Light Version): Bliss Warding armor for Ganondorf's faction.
Ice shoes: Freezes the ground with each step. Allows for walking on water and lava.
Iron Boots: Makes wearer heavy. Allows for walking on floor of water or to stay put in strong wind.
Cockpit: Zonai device that encases user. Possible uses can include the build for submarines. Also allows for shielding for vehicles.
Oxygen Tank: Zonai devices for extra air. Can be used for scuba diving or for additional air for submarine builds.
Gibdo Bow: Normal arrows turn into shock arrows automatically.

The Power of Handgrip: How It Can Benefit Your Respiratory System

When it comes to exercising, we often focus on the major muscle groups like our legs, arms, and core. However, there’s a smaller, yet equally important, muscle group that deserves attention: our handgrip. The muscles in our hands, fingers, and forearms play a crucial role in our overall health, and surprisingly, they can even have a significant impact on our respiratory system. In this blog post, we’ll explore the benefits of handgrip on the respiratory system and why incorporating handgrip exercises into your fitness routine can be a game-changer for your overall health.

The Connection Between Handgrip and Respiratory System

Research has shown that there is a strong correlation between handgrip strength and lung function. A study published in the Journal of Applied Physiology found that individuals with stronger handgrip strength had better lung function, including increased forced expiratory volume (FEV1) and forced vital capacity (FVC). These measures are critical indicators of respiratory health, as they reflect the amount of air that can be exhaled from the lungs.
So, how does handgrip strength impact lung function? One theory is that the muscles involved in handgrip, such as the flexor digitorum profundus and flexor digitorum superficialis, share a common nerve pathway with the diaphragm, the primary muscle responsible for breathing. This shared pathway allows for a synergistic effect, where strengthening the handgrip muscles can also enhance diaphragmatic function.
Benefits of Handgrip on Respiratory System
Incorporating handgrip exercises into your fitness routine can have several benefits for your respiratory system:

1. Improved Lung Function: As mentioned earlier, stronger handgrip strength is associated with better lung function, including increased FEV1 and FVC. This can be particularly beneficial for individuals with respiratory conditions such as chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD).
2. Enhanced Diaphragmatic Function: By strengthening the handgrip muscles, you can also improve diaphragmatic function, leading to more efficient breathing and increased oxygenation of the body.
3. Increased Endurance: Handgrip exercises can help improve cardiovascular endurance, which is critical for individuals with respiratory conditions who may experience shortness of breath during physical activity.
4. Reduced Respiratory Muscle Fatigue: Strengthening the handgrip muscles can reduce fatigue in the respiratory muscles, allowing for more efficient breathing and reducing the risk of respiratory failure.
5. Improved Overall Health: Handgrip strength is also associated with overall health and mortality rates. A stronger handgrip has been linked to a lower risk of cardiovascular disease, diabetes, and even certain types of cancer.

Incorporating Handgrip Exercises into Your Fitness Routine
Fortunately, incorporating handgrip exercises into your fitness routine is easy and can be done with minimal equipment. Here are a few exercises to get you started:

• Grip Strengthening: Use a handgrip strengthener or a small rubber ball to squeeze and release your hand muscles. Aim for 10-15 repetitions, 3-4 times a week.
• Finger Bending: Place a light weight or resistance band around your fingers and bend them down toward your palm. Release and repeat for 10-15 repetitions.
• Wrist Extensions: Hold a light weight or resistance band in your hand and lift your wrist up, keeping your forearm still. Lower and repeat for 10-15 repetitions.

***Lily***
“Stupid gnome prejudice. I may not be the biggest fan of gnomes but, just because we are small doesn’t mean we can’t cause some damage.” Mogsten says as he walks over, kicks the fishman, and picks up the horn and dusts it off. “I’m hesitant to admit this since, when he regains consciousness, he will do what he could to ruin my business even more but, still, thank you Wabbajack.” He says.
“Don’t mention it Mogsten, this guy’s haggling game was all over the place.” Wabbajack responds.
“Indeed, he has no understanding of value.” Mogsten says with a smirk on his face.
“Well, unless he knew that you had about another sixty of those in the back that is.” Wabbajack says as he chuckles.
Mogsten quickly turns around as he says, “Shh. That’s a trade secret.” He then lets out an “oh ho ho” chuckle. He then looks down and yells, “Gourdsten! Clean up!”
Just like that, Gourdsten comes out from the back and drags the body off. Soon after the body disappears towards the back, Gourdsten reappears with a spray bottle, gloves, and a sponge.
“What happened to him?” I ask Mogsten.
“Don’t worry, I can’t afford a bloody reputation. He is just in stasis until the authorities get here.” Mogsten answers with.
“Stasis?” I ask.
“She really is new to all this huh? Stasis is basically freezing someone in a state of time. In this state however, while nothing can happen to them, they can’t function. Depending on the state they are in when they go under, they may be aware of the environment around them. Sometimes, certain criminals may undergo such punishment for their crimes.” Mogsten explains, looking at Wabbajack for some reason.
Mogsten then looks at me and asks, “So, did you find all the ingredients?”
I nod my head.
He then rubs his temple as he asks, “And you Really intend to go through with this?”
“There’s no other option!” I exclaim.
“Well, there are quite a few, just that they would take a LOT longer.” Wabbajack points out.
I look at him in annoyance and he responds with, “What? Just saying.”
I sigh and look at Mogsten and hand him the “ingredients”.
“Let’s see what we have. A fur scarf, a pistol, a lantern that looks like a child tried to make it, a… rubber duck. And what the world is this?” Mogsten asks pulling out the leg.
“It’s a prosthetic leg for a dragon-sized crocodile. Well, a smaller scale version at the very least.” I explain.
“Who would put a prosthetic leg on a Dragon-sized crocodile?” he asks.
“Right?” I ask in return.
He then looks back at the leg, strokes his fake beard, and says, “Well, when you put it like that, makes sense you would want to use it as an ingredient.” He then looks back at me and asks, “Are these the ingredients that you Really want to use?”
“They fit the descriptions that you gave me.” I point out.
He then looks at the ingredients again and says, “Yes… this may actually work then.”
“Come again?” I ask him.
“Well, one of the Biggest reasons, after that whole dark nature I mentioned, that this fails is that people try to influence their familiar by using ingredients that don’t inspire these feelings.” He explains.
“Because of this disconnection between the host and the familiar, that may also cause the familiar to go berserk as well.” Wabbajack then explains.
“Exactly!” Mogsten exclaims as he points towards to Wabbajack. He then looks back to me and asks, “With that in mind, are you one-Hundred percent sure that these ingredients are correct?”
I nod again and explain, “I can explain my reasons if you want.”
“No. As long as you are certain, then follow me to the back.” He says as he picks everything up again and starts waddling towards the back.
“Would you like some help?” I ask.
“No, I have to prepare everything anyways so it’s best I handle most things from here.” He explains.
Wabbajack walks past me but, I notice he is holding his banjo-thing upside-down. But, its neck is awfully long. Long enough to reach the ground and have the base be about level to his head. Which is pretty impressive since he is not that much taller than me. I want to ask about it but, I figured that is better left for later. Besides, I could probably guess that it can switch between a staff and an instrument. So, I shrug and follow them towards the back.
As I pass the flaps, I let out an audible, “Wow” because the room is massive! There is so much stock in here. I would have never guessed it from the gypsy-sized tent I see from the outside.
I guess Mogsten hears me as he says while putting the items in a pattern, “Spatial compression spell. It’s like that bag you are probably holding. It’s a pocket of space that you can mess with everything as long as it’s registered to you. Any merchant worth his salt at least attempts to lessen the target on his store to wannabe burglars. For example, there was a tannery that was completely torn apart for scrap. I hear the owner left it unattended And unlocked. I hope he can recover from that, it’s a pretty costly mistake.”
I look off towards the side and say, “Oh, I hear he is doing alright. Hehe.”
He pulls out a spray can and says while he shakes it, “That’s good.” He then starts spraying the ground.
I look over towards Wabbajack, who is standing sideways towards the thing Mogsten is working on. He has his free hand about chest level, fingers-spread, and it looks like he has a weird circle thing again like when I think I have seen him do before when he casted magic. Like when he summoned that ghost thing. I guess he is on guard duty.
I look back at Mogsten and see he is about halfway done at this point. He works fast since the design is very intricate. Now that I think about it, it looks like that circle Wabbajack has but… different. I think I remember reading about this. These must be magic circles. While they look similar, they must be different since each magic circle represents something different. Kinda like snowflakes. I can’t help but ask, “What’s that you are spraying to make that magic circle?”
“Ah, someone has been studying. It’s a mixture of compounds for creating the familiar summoning circle. I kept a few around just in case that someone managed to convince me to do this.” He explains. He then stands up and shakes it some more as he says, “I thought it was unlikely but, a smart businessman looks at every opportunity.” He then goes back to spraying and says, “Now, no offense, but mind letting me focus? I got to make sure I get this perfect. I want to lessen the margin of error as much as possible.”
“Oh! Sure. Sorry.” I say. Now that I think about it, I look towards my bag and think about what he said, “Like my bag.” I open it and it looks like a normal bag. Either it needs to be activated or it doesn’t have that spell yet. I’ll have to ask about that after we are done.
“Before I forget, leave your bandolier and bag over by Wabbajack there. We don’t want to add unnecessary items to the circle.” Mogsten says as he shakes the can again.
“Oh! Alright!” I respond. I take off my bandolier and put it down by Wabbajack.
“Don’t worry. If worse comes to worse, I’ll protect you. And come whatever may, we’ll figure out what to do next.” Wabbajack says.
I feel a little relief hearing him say that. Next thing I know, Gourdsten runs up to me with a simple white robe. “Oh, what’s this?” I ask.
“It’s a robe.” Wabbajack says.
As I look at him, annoyed, Gourdsten says, “Robe! Wear Robe!”
Mogsten then explains, “You’ll have to take off the rest of your gear as well and wear just that robe. Like I said, No unnecessary items. Only simple clothes.”
I look at the robe and say, “Oh… There is a changing room, right?”
“This way! Here, here!” Gourdsten says as he pulls my arm.
“Alright! Calm down.” I say.
I follow him to a wooden stall. “I guess I change in there, huh?” I ask.
“Yes! Correct!” Gourdsten says.
I sigh and open it up, step inside and change. Afterwards, after I step out in the robe, Gourdsten then says, “Shoes! Too!”
I look down and sigh. I then ask, “Can that wait till we get back?”
“Shoes! Shoes! He repeats.
I then puff my face in annoyance as I sit down and take off my shoes. “Happy?” I ask.
He just jumps up and down and starts walking back.
All I can think is that it’s a good thing that the floor is at least wooden. I then get up, grab my stuff, and chase after him.
As we get back, Mogsten appears out of nowhere and points behind him as he says, “Circle is done. All that is left is the blood of the subject.”
“You’re not going to slit my wrists, are you?” I ask with a meek chuckle.
“Heaven’s no!” He says as he pulls out a syringe. He then grabs my wrist under these large sleeves and asks, “On three. Ready?”
I nervously nod my head. Just as he opens his mouth, I quickly say, “Wait! Why do we need blood again?” Trying to delay the inevitable.
He looks at me and explains, “A familiar is an extension of yourself. Quite literally. In order to cement that bond, it needs the blood of the host. That bond will allow you and your familiar to share experiences but, still allow autonomy for individual thought. You can live without it but, for it to retain its presence, it needs you alive.”
“Fascinating. Mind going into more detail?” I say with a weak smile.
He then stabs the syringe into my wrist as he says, “No.”
“Ow!” I yelp.
Just like that, he pulls the syringe out and empties it out into a bowl. “Alright, here you go.” He says as he hands me the bowl.
As I stare into a small bowl of my own blood, I ask, “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Now, You stand at the center of the circle. As I activate the circle, the blood will start sloshing around in that bowl. Do NOT let a SINGLE drop fall out until the last item is floating. When the last item does start floating, pour the blood in the center and take four steps back. Got it?” he explains.
I look over back to the circle and then look back to Mogsten and repeat, “Don’t let it spill until the last object starts floating. When it does, pour it all out and take four steps back, right?”
He nods and says, “Correct.” I think I then hear him mumble, “I can’t believe I was convinced to do this.” As he walks away.
I then take my place at the center of the circle. I am somewhat trembling at this point.
“Are you sure, you want to do this?” Mogsten asks again.
“Just do it already!” I yell back.
He lets out a sigh and starts mouthing something as he levels out his arms towards me.
I could feel the energy around me shifting and moving. I start seeing the objects that were placed start floating one by one. Slowly but surely. I then look down at the bowl and it is sloshing around. So far, not too bad. Around the time the fourth object starts floating, the blood really starts flying around to the point I have to actually adjust to make sure it doesn’t go flying out.
After a few more minutes the last object starts flying up. As soon as it stops moving, I pour the blood and take four steps back. The blood stops midair and forms a bubbling ball. It then rises up about level to my face. It stops bubbling and then a flash of blinding light envelops the room and I try to shield my eyes.
After a minute, I slowly open my eyes and lower my arms. What I see before me is something pretty weird.
It’s in the shape of a sphere with a detached fox tail. The floating tail matches the fur of the body of the “familiar”, I guess. Its fur is a golden yellow with a white tip. The body looks like it has a line down the middle, with Very sharp fangs from the top row. It has fox ears and tiny fox paws and a fox nose. It’s got lines for eyes? Either that or they are just closed. Between its ears, it has a lantern dangling from a line, kinda like an angler fish. The other side of that line looks like white gator leather and it has two tiny gator feet. As it yawns, I guess, it opens its massive mouth, showing all its fangs, top and bottom rows, and stretches its fox paws, revealing some nasty looking barbed claws. It’s only as tall as, from the floor, up to my knee.
[First] [Previous]

This thing is consolidating hard and it’s resisting hard. This is without short laddering attacks which can’t be done rn. This resistance is strong and we are holding the line hard. I believe we may see some attacks Thursday and Friday this week similar to last. We’ll see this thing rise to 2-$4 and then it will significantly drop again. If I were a financial advisor (which I am not) I would hodl. Dont get alarmed by the drastic drop. We have so much resistance now even with the hedgies not being able to fully attack. Who says this resistance won’t hodl during these attacks. We can dominate when they try to fool us. The resistance shall hodl above $1 for 7 days.
GRAB YOU BALLS BUCKLE UP AND LETS WIN THIS WAR. FFIE TO THE MOON
AGAIN I AM NOT A FINANCIAL ADVISOR THIS IS MY OWN PERSONAL OPINION FOR MYSELF.

Unless you are ready to handle the reaper cushions.

The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.
― Mark Twain

general information	additional information
name: Micah Di Santis	preferred name: Myka, Mike
d.o.b.: 10 June 20XX	age: 16
nationality: Sicilian	hometown: Sicily, Italy
gender identity: cis-male	gender expression: male
sexual orientation: Undecided	preferred pronouns: he / him / his

• Half-blood- and non-half-blood-related conundrums: ADHD (attention deficiency and hyperactivity disorder), Dyslexia

relation	name/s	age	relationship
divine parent	Charon, The Ferryman	old	Micah still has no idea what to think about his dad. Speaking with him during the visit to Olympus did nothing to clear things up. The man, or was it immortal, was blunt and yet, his son's opinion of him was still up in the air, though leaning more to the positive side. At least Micah has the connections to get himself an admittedly fantastic tailored suit.
mortal parent	???	???	Micah has no idea who his biological mother is. The only reason he knew who his father was before he came to camp was because the spirits told him.
mortal adoptive parent	Maria Di Santis	32 years old	If Marco was a saint then Maria was a saintess through and through. Everything she did, she did with someone else in mind. From the day she adopted Micah to the moment Marco died, Micah did not see her cry for herself at all. She'd cry when a little boy got hurt and would offer help or cry when she saw a cat get kicked by some drunk douchebag.
mortal adoptive parent	Vincino (Vinny) Bertelli	37 years old	Vincino is an absurdly rich man who was born and raised in Sicily. He found Maira through her singing on the side of the road to raise money for Micah's trip to the US. He offered to take her in because he liked her and sponsored Micah's trip by giving him some money and a ticket onto a transatlantic cruise ship headed to New York City. All things considered, he's a kind and considerate man who loves Maria.
adoptive brother	Marco Di Santis	14 years old, Deceased	Marco Di Santis was a saint. Ever since he learned the word 'kindness', he was absorbed and defined by it. He loved seeing the smiles bloom on people's faces when he shared some bread or helped them with something but what he truly loved more than anything else was sailing and playing the piano. He was handsome beyond reason, having pale blonde hair and clear blue eyes, though he never had a chance to grow into it fully.
dead guy	Chris	16 years old, Deceased	Like Marco, Chris is one big ball of sunshine. The only difference is he's a ghost. Micah met Chris on the cruise he stowed away on to get to the US and the ghost promptly joined him, though reluctantly because he was watching over his parents and little brother, due to finding him interesting. Like Marco, Chris is handsome though he had more time to grow into his looks. Framed by golden hair and chocolate brown eyes, Micah wouldn't have doubted it if the boy was very popular during his living days.
friend	Willow 'Will' Crest	16 years old	One of the more laid-back campers Micah had met, Willow became something of a friend to the son of Charon, though they started off more as discussion partners than anything else. And besides, being chill-buddies is pretty fun on its own. Who knows where things can go from there?
friend	Rachel 'Rocky' Williams	17 years old	Rocky was one of the first people Micah met upon arriving at camp and her enthusiasm, uncharacteristic for a child of a chthonic god, immediately made her stand out. Though he genuinely has no idea what goes through Rocky's head, Micah considers them close, and okay, maybe he has a minuscule crush on her.
friend/former cabin-mate	Ramona Herrera	16 years old	Being another camper who met Micah's criteria for friendship (i.e. Be chill and relax), Ramona is someone who Micah doesn't know too much about. Much like Kit, who Micah has seen around camp and the Hermes Cabin, she is a mystery to him. Though he does enjoy trying to spot which corner she's hiding in at any given camp gathering.
acquaintance (?)	Mathew Knight	15 years old	Matt is, as far as friendship is concerned, a work-in-progress. Micah's father had recommended getting to know the son of Hades and though he'd lost himself in school shortly after, Micah had made introductions.

appearance

faceclaim	height	weight	hair	eyes	skin
FC, Art by Charlie Bowater	5’11”	Doesn't care	Black	Amber, fiery like gold	Lightly tanned, peppered with a few more recent thin scars from his time at camp

description: Micah is a fairly restrained person when it comes to clothes. Usually, he'd only grab a long-sleeved shirt and some jeans, feeling content. Most of his clothing is fairly average, what with them being of all sorts of muted colors and sorts of clothing. He isn't used to expressing himself whether it is though clothing or other methods.
equipment:

• Folding Knife; The cleaver-shaped folding knife was a present from his brother and Micah has taken to using it for almost everything in his day to day. When his mother fell ill after Marco's death, Micah had to scrub the docks, cut rope to secure the boats, and even got to work on some boats during outings for extra cash. The knife became like a lifeline, being used for everything he had to do.
• Bead Necklace; Micah has been at camp for a year now.
• Monster Directory; Over the years, Micah has seen one or two monsters in their undisguised forms and has taken to keeping note of them by drawing them in as great a detail as he can remember in a separate notebook from the rest of his drawings while also making notes of tactics that worked against them.
• Sketchbook; Ever since he started drawing, Micah has had a good amount of sketchbooks, most of which he donated to orphanages in Sicily for the little kids to enjoy the drawings if they weren't destroyed by seawater or other kids. After he donated his last one with a few pages blank at the end, he got himself a new book, this one being leather-bound and practically a blank slate. He's glad to have an abundance of space to draw as his story unfolds.
• Art Supplies; A good amount of colored and uncolored pencils, all in different states of use, either dull or sharp, long or short, and an eraser in a dark brown leather box.
• Satchel; The over-the-shoulder bag Micah carries around with all of his items. It's nothing special, just an olive green bag with a good amount of compartments and space.
• Throwing Knife Bandolier; Micah's choice of weapon, the bandolier he carries is easy to hide under civilian clothes, fast to access, and easy to use. The knives are of standard make and easily replaceable with others from the armory, though Micah tends to clean and sharpen them himself after each use.

abilities:
* – modmailed / custom

godrent domain powers: 

a) Dead Communication; Ever since his close brush with death, Micah's powers surged. His father's connection to spirits and those who have died became his and as such he can now see and communicate with the spirits of the dead. They have been his only source of information on his father. He likes to build a network of spirits whenever he goes somewhere new so he can gather information as fast as possible.
b) Shadow Camouflage; From a fairly young age, Micah wasn't much of a social butterfly. Most of the time, he felt most comfortable in a shadowy nook where the lines of his body would be broken by shadows, using the ability unconsciously. After his near-death experience, Micah became more aware of his ability to hide in shadows and learned to use it more effectively than before.
c) Shadow Travel\;* After an unknowably long amount of time spent in Hades, Micah's father, Charon, was aligned with the underworld to which he led the souls of the dead. Similarly, Micah has inherited the ability to travel through shadows in short or long-range teleports.

godrent minor powers: 

a) River Step\;* The connection with the River Styx flows through Micah's veins as much as it does through his father's. The ability this connection granted him was the ability to walk on water, as long as there is no significant shift to the water, such as large waves.
b) Death Buff\;* Being a servant of the God of the Dead, it only makes sense that Charon would draw his own power from his master. As such, Micah has inherited a trait where he becomes stronger when around children of other deities of death, such as Hades, Melinoe, Zagreus, the Oneiroi, etc.
c) Aura of the Harbinger\;* Being a multifaceted deity, Charon passed down his multifacetedness in the form of an aura ability. Micah has the ability to project an aura with two opposite effects that work on separate targets. A calming effect affects any spirits within the aura while an imposing effect like that of Children of Hades affects living beings within the aura's range.

godrent major powers: 

a) Major Watercraft Manipulation\;* Being known as the Ferryman of the Dead, it only makes sense for Charon, and Micah by extension, to have dominion over watercraft. Micah's control over watercraft was one of the first powers he discovered and the power that is most intertwined with him in his entirety. He has inherited the ability to gain absolute control over any and all watercraft down to the rigging and ropes.

skillset 

Over the years, Micah has picked up a good variety of skills, including fishing and rope work. Still, there have been a great many learning experiences for the boy on the streets of Sicily. Free running came as a given to any child of below-average means in Sicily but Micah was significantly worse than most thanks to a leg injury he got at the age of thirteen. Drawing was the only real luxury he had during his time when he wasn't working. A young lady from a carnival that was passing through taught him how to use throwing knives after he helped her find her way around the city. He learned ballet by watching, sitting for hours outside a studio every day for weeks until he'd gotten good enough to practice independently, which led to his interest in gymnastics. One of the older neighborhood boys took to teaching Micah, his brother, and the other kids how to read and write in English. Micah's adoptive mother insisted on teaching him how to speak English from a young age. Now, he can speak English with a barely noticeable Sicilian accent.
personality
Micah is about as quiet as you'd expect from a Chthonic kid. That isn't to say that he is particularly serious or brooding, in fact, even when he's upset, he rarely does either. He mainly remains silent because he isn't particularly talented at talking. His reactions to most things tend to be a bit muted unless something is especially funny or angering. Any of the kids that liked him or trusted him in Sicily did so because they understood that when it was needed, Micah would talk as much as was needed and would do what needed to be done to keep everyone safe.
Fatal Flaw; Vengefulness
backstory
Micah's past year at camp had been simultaneously the most relaxing and confusing year of his life. There had been a unfamiliarity that Micah had with anything to do with relaxation or really anything but working that had slowly melted away. He'd made friends and discovered passions that might have otherwise gone ignored for the rest of his life (Art was definitely one of those).
So, when school started to take over his time, Micah barely gave it any thought, settling back into his old work mentality, though now focused on mental instead of physical labor. Before he knew it, it was summer, school was out, and he was back at the start, not knowing how to get himself to relax.
now
Micah stared at the ground around the Range target blankly, the celestial bronze knives scattered around it refracting light. He was jolted out of his mental haze when a camper a few rows down yelled at him for standing in front of the target for so long. Quickly finishing up gathering his throwing knives, Micah slotted them into his bandolier and left the Range.
For a while, he just walked, until he reached the pier. Boats had been a constant of Micah's life before coming to camp and when he was really out of it or off his rocker, the son of Charon liked to settle at the camp pier and imagine what sort of sea vessel he'd design for himself. Aesthetics might not have mattered to everyone but to Micah, they did. The ship would have to look as good as it sailed.
Now, he fell onto his back in the sand a few meters from the pier and stared up at the sky. Barely any clouds. Gods that was boring.
(Credit to u/FireyRage for the amazing intro format.)

Previous Part
The first sound I heard that morning was foot steps outside my tepee.
“Get up! Shaoni wants you all in town.”
The gruff but familiar voice of my driver from three days ago shouted at me. It had to be some sick sense of humor on Shaoni’s part, sending this guy to come get me for things again and again. Honestly, even I was starting to feel bad for him. Bianca stabbed his friend I knocked him off that stage yesterday with one of the war clubs. I speak from experience when I say those things HURT.
“Alright alright, just give me a second to get dressed!”
I yelled back to the man as I rushed to get around inside. At least he had the common courtesy to stay outside. A minute or two later I stepped out to see everyone else gathered around the man. Brooke, Katrina, John, and Robert all stood there, just staring at me.
“Mornin’ sleeping beauty”
Robert finally said after what seemed like forever, nearly choking on laugher at his own joke.
“I thought you were never going to wake up. Did you not hear Shaoni last night? We were supposed to be up 6 sharp.”
He explained after his laughing fit. Apparently I had missed that bit of Shaoni’s whole presentation last night. Katrina grabbed a pair of keys out of her pocket and started walking away.
“Come on, we’ve got to get into town and finish this whole thing.”
She called back to us just a little too eagerly.
“She’s letting us drive? I thought she didn’t want us heading back to town without some kind of supervision.”
I questioned as we all walked toward the same beat up red pickup that had brought me here.
“I guess she decided to make an exception.”
Katrina replied, not even bothering to look at me.
“Besides I don’t think running is much of an option at this point.”
She continued, pointing up towards the sky. A storm was brewing there, a killer one by the looks of it. The odd thing was it didn’t seem to want to break, it was just stuck in that state right before it starts raining cats and dogs. The dark, angry clouds tapered off in the sky the further they got from town, Shaoni’s doing, it had to be.
The five of us would just about fit in the truck, not comfortably but we would fit.
“Oh hell no! I’m not dealing with you up here!”
“Why not?! You know you love it.”
Brooke and Katrina argued as he tried to take the passenger seat next to her.
“No you go in the back or I’m driving us straight into a tree, I can’t put up with you anymore.”
Katrina yelled at Brooke, tensing up and getting ready for a fight.
“Would you guys just knock it off! Just sit in the back Brooke, I’ll take the passenger seat.”
I scolded both of them, I was done with their little arguments, it was starting to get under my skin. An evil grin crossed Brooke’s face as he turned to me
“What’s up with you two? You’ve been all buddy buddy with him since we all beat the shit out of each other with wooden sticks. He didn’t get to you first did he? Hmmmm?”
Brooke prodded with a wink.
Katrina Immediately punched him in the face before I even had a chance to respond.
“Ey that’s a good right hook! Give em’ another one, come on come on!”
A heavily accented voice cut in from below my feet. Rocco had managed to slip in without any of us noticing. When Brooke lay eyes on him he just about jumped straight into the truck bed. Apparently whatever Rocco did to him yesterday had left quite the impression.
“I’m not even gonna ask, just shut up and take a seat.”
Katrina told Rocco, slamming her door shut as I took a seat next to her and Rocco hopped in the back. Robert and John pretty much made themselves flat to their doors as Rocco took a seat in between them in the back. Brooke rode in the bed, shooting nervous glances at Rocco every now and then.
Katrina drove like a bat out of hell through the woods and back into town. I’m not sure if she was in that much of a hurry to get all this over with or if she just hoped her crazy driving would throw Brooke overboard. Given where we were headed and how close we would probably be to Bianca, I can’t say I wasn’t hoping the same thing.
We pulled into the parking lot of the Save-A-Lot I’d gotten groceries from my first day here. The storm over head was raging but oddly enough It still wasn’t raining or anything like that. The wind was picking up and the sky looked absolutely sinister but other than that everything seemed fine in the town.
Before Katrina’s combat boots had even touched the ground she was already giving orders.
“Alright listen up, We’re working as a team this time wether you all like it or not. I want us to split up and see what we can find. Anything out of place, anything that seems suspicious, I want you to make a note of it. We have to figure out who the victim is going to be and who’s doing the killing. We have nothing to go on either so nothing is to small here. Lets all take a look around town and meet back here in two hours. That’s two hours sharp Keith!”
Katrina barked, taking charge of the situation and leveling one quick jab at me before turning on her heels and heading out into the town.
As everyone else hurried off in different directions I took a second to think. If I was looking for someone where would I go? Where in town would I most likely go no matter what? That line of thought is what led me to the front door of the Eagle’s Roost. Cliche I know, but a bar was a good a place as any to start, even if it was 8 in the morning. Maybe someone new had stopped by and Tuck would know something about it.
The door was unlocked as usual so I let myself in, if Tuck didn’t want guests I’m sure he’d lock it.
“Hey, Tuck? You in here?”
I called into the bar as I noticed the usually roaring stone fireplace had fallen silent.
“Tuck’s not here right now sweet heart, but I can take a message if you’d give me a moment.”
“Oh, ok take your time then.”
I answered before realizing the motherly southern voice couldn’t possibly belong to Tuck.
“Wait who are you?!”
I chirped as I rushed up to the bar and peered back into the kitchen where Tuck usually was. In his place was a dark skinned woman that looked a little older than Tuck. She wore a pink checkered shirt under an apron that read, “Kiss the cook”.
“My, I haven’t seen you around. I’m Richelle, Tucker’s wife.”
She answered. Her southern accent was smooth and calm. The exact opposite of Tuck’s brutal hillbilly speak that he tried to hide.
“Did he not mention me? He doesn’t like to introduce me to the new comers, always worrying about me that one.”
“No, I think he mentioned you helped keep this place running when I first met him.”
“He must like you then, most people round here don’t even know he’s married. Anyways what can I help you with sugar?”
Her motherly voice did wonders for my stress. I could see why Tuck married her, with just a few words I’m sure she could set anyone at ease.
“I was wondering if anyone new came into town or passed through here. Maybe someone out of place, something like that? Oh, and where’s Tuck?”
“Well I can help with both those things. There was a man here, got off a bus last night all alone and came right in. I don’t know what it was but I just had a bad feeling about him, made me shiver.”
She gave a little shiver at that, to demonstrate I guess?
“As for Tuck he’s been staying with those scientists and…. and I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that.”
She explained, a look of embarrassment crossing her face as she finished.
Before I had a chance to respond I heard the door slam open behind me. I swore I heard someone shriek my name. All I saw before someone knocked me over the stool I’d been standing next to was a blur of black hair flying toward me, and bright glowing blue eyes.
Bianca wrapped me in a bear hug on the floor.
“What happened to you, are you hurt, how are you back!?”
She fired questions at me as fast as she could.
“Bianca, crushing my… can you just, ease up a bit.”
I pleaded as she squeezed me harder than a boa constrictor.
“Sorry! I just didn’t think I’d see you…”
She squeaked, trailing off suddenly. A single tear making its way down her face as she blushed slightly and released me. In that moment I realized Bianca, who had stabbed a guy not to long ago for grabbing her hand, just bear hugged me. I’m not sure what I felt about that but at the moment, I was just happy to see her and even happier that she was happy to see me.
“Shaoni let us back into town for the last of the trials. We’re supposed to stop a murder in town.”
“A murder?! Is that what you were asking about? Is that man a murderer? My, what is going on in this town.”
Richelle shrieked, reminding Bianca and I that we weren’t alone in here. I felt the hot blood rush to my face as I looked up to see Bianca blushing as well, even redder than before.
“So, did you end up finding anything out about Shaoni?”
I asked Bianca as we took a seat at the bar, getting straight down to business as Richelle started stress cleaning in the kitchen.
I was a bit surprised by what she said. I never expected Shaoni to be THE Thunderbird or a descendent of them. I was still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing.
“So she went into hiding here then? That cave we stumbled into that was connected to the mines. Was that her… nest?”
I thought out loud, hoping Bianca would have some kind of answer.
“I guess, that’s what Frank and Stein have been calling it too. Speaking of Frank and Stein we should probably go see them. We were planning to break you out today, guess we were a little late on that huh.”
Bianca said, getting up from her seat at the bar. I’m not sure reuniting with Frank, Stein, and the rest of them was the best idea. At the moment I didn’t have a whole lot of other options though. I got up and followed Bianca out the door, heading back to her house to call off their rescue mission.
“Good luck darlin’!”
Richelle called after us, I felt sure we could use all the luck we could get.
“How the hell’d ya get back here son?!”
Tuck asked as soon as Bianca and I walked through the front door. Rocco had already found his way back and had apparently been filling everyone in on what had been happening. Stein was unloading some sort of pistol with a long thin barrel on the kitchen table.
“I’m glad I won’t have to use this at least. It’s been… many years since I’ve had to take this out of storage.”
Stein explained to no one in particular while staring at the gun. No doubt it brought back memories of his time with the German military. Frank walked out of the basement at that moment and nodded to me.
“Glad to have you back Keith.”
He said, clapping a hand on my shoulder.
“It’s great to see you all but I can’t stay too long, I’ve got to go back.”
“WHAT?!”
Everyone yelled in unison, even Rocco.
“It’s the last trial and Shaoni is overseeing it personally. You see that storm outside? That’s all her, if I don’t go back she’ll know and I’m sure there will be consequences. Besides Brooke is here too, I don’t want to give him any reason to go looking for me and bump into Bianca.”
I explained to everyone, not enough to wipe the shock off all their faces but at least Stein seemed to understand. Just the mention of Brookes name made Bianca freeze up. Only for a second but I could see this tension pass over her whole body and her eyes suddenly glowed blue and widened with fear. I was paying so much attention to how she’d react to that name that I almost didn’t feel her reach out and squeeze my hand from her place at my side. She sighed quietly before her eyes returned to normal but she still kept my hand in hers.
“You can’t go back! We only just got you back!”
Bianca protested, but my mind was made up.
“I need to see this through and besides someone’s life is at stake. I should try and stop that at least.”
Bianca couldn’t argue with that, neither could anyone else. I could tell Tuck and her wanted to but they didn’t. All Tuck did was quietly nod his head and grunt. I could tell Bianca was running through every possible argument in her head to try and make me stay but wasn’t coming up with anything. Bianca let go of my hand and asked,
“Can I at least come with you? To help stop the murder I mean.”
She looked into my eyes like a puppy, begging me to say yes.
In any normal circumstance I would’ve given in immediately to that, especially coming from someone who looked like her. This time though, I just couldn’t. I couldn’t take the chance that Brooke would see her and something bad would happen.
“You can’t Bianca, I don’t want anything happening to you especially with… him out there. I think Shaoni offered to help him find you if he showed up for these trials or something like that. Either way I’m pretty sure he’s here for you.”
I told her as gently as I could. I could see her recoil at the idea that Brooke might be here just for her. She was scared, maybe more scared than she’d ever been that there was even a small chance of Brooke getting his hands on her again.
“I… no, no your right.”
I didn’t expect her to give in so easily but it was a welcome surprise.
“I hope you know what yer doin son.”
Tuck told me as I got ready to head back out. Frank and Stein cornered me before I could leave as well.
“Take this.”
Frank said, thrusting what looked like a jury rigged walkie talkie into my hands.
“If you need anything call us on that. We’ll help however we can, and don’t expect us to sit around quietly when you go back. We fully intend get you out still, no reason to let a perfectly good plan go to waste.”
I thanked them for the walkie talkie. I was glad they were still looking out for me even if I doubted they could do much against whatever was to come, it was good to have people in your corner. Bianca was waiting for me when I got to the door.
“At least I get to say goodbye this time.”
She said with a little smirk. She’d been acting different since I got back, much more… personable?
“Yeah I guess so. What’s been up with you? You’ve been acting… different.”
I asked her, a little nervous for some reason.
“You helped me… a lot actually. Your the first person who’s really cared about me in years.”
“That’s not true, look at Frank and Stein.”
I responded, missing the point of what she was saying.
“No, not like that. I mean your a friend, a good friend… no that’s not, ugh.”
She said, shaking her head and looking a little embarrassed. Then she did something I really didn’t expect, she leaned over and kissed me.
“Just… make sure you come back ok? For me.”
She added as she pushed me out the door, starting to turn lobster red. My head was spinning but there was a bug dumb smile on my face, I’m sure of that. Filled with all the confidence that brought me, I headed back to the Save-A-Lot to see what everyone else had turned up on the impending murder.
As I walked back lighting began to crack across the sky. The lightning took all kinds of unnatural shapes. I swore one time it almost looked like a pair of eyes, watching me from the sky.
“Alright everyone, I want reports!”
Katrina shouted like a drill instructor, bring the group of us gathered around the hood of the truck to attention.
“The elderly cashier inside, she was… disquieted. More so than I would expect of someone in this strange town.”
John spoke, saying the first words I’d ever heard from him in a wise sage-like voice.
“I looked around for some kinda police station but this shit hole town doesn’t have one. How the hell am I supposed to report a murder if there’s no police!”
Brooke complained to the crowd.
“So, you accomplished absolutely nothing, I kinda figured that.”
Katrina scoffed at him.
“Yeah there hasn’t been a police station here as long as I remember. We never needed one, everyone either moved on to fast or stuck around and just wanted to be left alone, never caused any problems. Still, it’s a little strange come to think of it, would’ve figured the government would make us have some kind of police.”
Robert informed us before giving his own report.
“I looked around a bit myself, didn’t come across much on account of there not being all that many people to talk to in this town. Those old scientist types in the big white house never answered the door when I knocked and I couldn’t find their daughter.”
To my horror Brooke’s eyes lit up and he was suddenly razor focused on what Robert had to say.
“I did see some guy I’d never seen in town before walking around. Didn’t want to talk much though, he just turned around and walked the other way as soon as he caught sight of me.”
Robert finished with a shrug. Brooke seemed less interested after he heard nothing else about the daughter Robert mentioned. Did he know Robert was taking about Bianca?
“Wait that strange guy, was he wearing an old hat? Some kind of bowler I think, looked really out of place.”
Katrina asked suddenly, her eyes lighting up.
“Yeah now that you mention it I think he did.”
Robert answered after thinking for a second.
“Damn it! He saw me and ran when I was searching around town myself. So next order of business we find that guy. Keith! Did you see anything else?”
Katrina asked, whirling around to face me.
“I stopped by the bar and the bartender there told me someone new came into town a few days ago. Apparently she had a bad feeling about him. Maybe its the same guy you two saw?”
I proposed, pointing to Robert and Katrina. Katrina paced around for a bit, thinking I guess. She finally came to a rest again at the front of the truck, apparently she’d come up with another plan.
“Alright, I want that guy in the bowler hat found so we’re breaking into teams of two.”
“Uh, isn’t there five of us, that won’t work.”
Brooke interjected, earning him a look of pure murder from Katrina.
“Keep that up and I’ll find that raccoon, you can pair up with him!”
She yelled completely over Brooke’s attitude.
“I’ll go alone, Robert, John, you two are together same with you Keith and asshole.”
“I have a name you know!”
Brooke complained, getting yet another look from Katrina. If he kept that up I had a pretty good idea of exactly who the murderer and victim would be.
“Alright alright Jesus lady cool your jets!”
He said, putting his hands up in surrender as Katrina took a threatening step towards him.
A few minutes later Brooke and I had broken off from the other three having all agreed to meet up back at the truck in another hour. Brooke had insisted we go to the bar and search for the guy but I had a feeling there was more to it than that. He proved me right when he ducked into an alley and pushed me up against the side of a building right on main street. Usually that would be instantly seen by someone but here wasn’t like anywhere else. There was no one around to help me out or even see what was going on.
“I know we’re supposed to be looking for a murderer but I’ve got other things in mind. That daughter Robert was talking about, you know something about her don’t you.”
Brooke questioned with a growl, arm against my throat holding me uncomfortably tight against the building.
“Daughter? What are you talking about?”
I choked out, deciding to play dumb. He didn’t like this to much and pushed me even harder against the wall.
“That raccoon mentioned her name the other day when the fuckin thing attacked me and it seems pretty buddy buddy with you! Bianca! ring any bells!”
I felt my face grow red at the mention of her name as I thought back to the way she kissed me at the door. That reaction betrayed me and the beginnings of a twisted smile appeared in Brooke’s eyes.
“Oh yeah, you know her don’t you? Know what she can do to I bet. Did she tell you about me, how she threw away everything I could’ve given her.”
He hissed at me, venom dripping off every word.
“At first I didn’t care but then I heard stories of this whore who could wrap you around her finger like nothing else. She’d do whatever you wanted but you’d also pay whatever she asked, do whatever she asked. Imagine my surprise when I started looking into it and it turned out to be my little escaped bird.”
Brooke continued, grinning like a mad man. He was obsessed with her, it didn’t take a genius to see that. But I was in no position to argue with him, I could barley speak with the pressure on my neck from his arm.
“They called her a succubus, the crazy ones at least. Turns out they were right though, there was something off about her from the first day I met her but I had no idea she was something exotic like that. See I make a habit of collecting things, rare things, and she’s the rarest I’ve ever been able to find. I was so close to having her at one point but she just had to break away. When I met Shaoni late one night researching the supernatural she agreed to look into her for me on one condition. I agree to show up in this town in the ass end of nowhere and participate in some trials for her. Easiest deal I ever made, now I’m this close to getting my hands on her again. Imagine what she could do for me, what I could get with her powers.”
Brooke finished his monologue, finally letting me go.
“Now you’re going to show me where she is and I’m going to get the hell out of here. Get going!”
He shouted at me, drawing a pocket knife from his white suit jacket.
My first reaction was to look around and search for a way out. I couldn’t fight him, that was clear. I really didn’t want to get stabbed either. My eyes darted around trying to find anything that could get me out of this. Then I found exactly what I was looking for on the other side of the street.
Katrina had found the man in the bowler and he was running back toward the Save-A-Lot like Usain Bolt himself.
“Katrina, HELP!”
Brooke whipped his head around, trying to catch sight of her before she did anything. Katrina wasted no time though. She took one look at him, pulled the gun from its holster on her waist, and fired. The crack of the bullet made me run on pure instinct and Brooke dropped to the ground. It hadn’t hit him unfortunately, but it had bought me enough time to run.
“Argh that bitch! I’ll find her myself!”
Brooke shouted before getting back to his feet and running the other direction. The guy Katrina had been chasing used the distraction to make some distance on her. He was nearly to the corner that turned towards the Save-A-Lot. I took off after him as Katrina did the same, ripping the walkie talkie from my pocket as I ran.
“Stein get Bianca out of there! Head out to the mine, maybe there aren’t to many people there now, just get her out of town! Brooke is here and he’s looking for her I’ll meet you once this is all over ok.”
I think Stein said something back but I didn’t catch it. The adrenaline spike of getting shot at and chasing this guy who was likely a soon to be murderer made it hard to hear.
We weren’t as fast as we hoped but we were just fast enough to see the consequences of that. As Katrina and I got into the parking lot the guy was already inside, pointing a gun of his own at the elderly cashier that gave me a hard time about my ID. I made out the movements of her lips just before he pulled the trigger. It looked like she said “Oh, you’re the one she sent then.” Just before he killed her.
I stopped dead when I saw the body drop, I’d never seen someone die before. In Imalone people had died but I’d been knocked out for most of it. Seeing it up close though, it made my stomach drop. I fell to my knees and threw up on the spot, the blood, god the blood splatter behind her it was horrible.
Katrina didn’t stop after the shot, if anything she charged in even faster. The gun was still in her hand and she held it up in front of her, using the weight of the gun to smash through the glass doors with the bottom of the grip. The shards of glass rained down on the murderer who surprisingly, seemed just as stunned as I was by the corpse. Katrina dropped her shoulder and charged into him, hitting him so hard they both fell to the ground. She was back on her feet quick as lighting, flipping the guy over onto his front and putting a knee on his back in between his shoulder blades. Katrina locked his arm behind his back and said something I couldn’t hear. At that point I kinda spaced out. The only other thing I remember before getting in the truck was Katrina leading the man out of the store with his hands zip tied behind him. The few people who were in the store had come out and were starting to pick over the scene as we shot out onto the road back to the mine.
I noticed one of us was missing when we came to a stop.
“Where’s Brooke?”
“I wasn’t waiting for him, not after whatever he pulled in town. He can find his own way back.”
Katrina answered me while pushing the man she’d apprehended out of the truck and toward the entrance to the mine.
“Are you doing ok? You looked a little white on the way out here, like you saw a ghost.”
Robert asked me as we got out and followed behind Katrina.
“Sure sure I just… never saw someone die like that you know.”
I said, never so sure that I wasn’t ok. Robert gave me a knowing nod as we made our way down to the coliseum.
Shaoni and Katrina were waiting for us already. Brooke was there too, beaten and bloody against the wall. It looked like someone had dragged him back here against his will, probably Shaoni if I had to guess.
“I can’t say I’m pleased with what went on in town but in the end you did discover the murderer, even if it was too late. Now it’s time for the second part of this trial. I want to hear your judgements, what should this man’s punishment be?”
Shaoni greeted us, ignoring everything that had gone on before like it didn’t even matter. Something about that made my blood boil.
“Katrina, you first. What should this man’s punishment be?”
“P please.. you said.”
The man muttered before Shaoni slapped him hard across the face.
“You will be silent!”
She ordered, the room suddenly becoming electric with her temper. Katrina stepped up in front of Shaoni and gave her judgment.
“He took a life, he should be killed as well. It’s the only way to be sure he doesn’t do something like that again.”
Shaoni nodded at that and pointed to me.
“You next Keith, what should we do with him?”
I was filled with a rage I’d never felt before as I looked at the whole situation. Shaoni was meant to be a spirt of justice, or so I thought. Yet she let that woman die. Worse still, after what the woman said I believed Shaoni may have arranged the whole thing, murderer, victim, and all. That’s not justice, that’s playing god, using her power and influence to mess with people like pieces on a chessboard and for what? Just so she could “test” a few people who’d caught her eye?
“You deserve punishment Shaoni. That man is innocent, you put him up to it didn’t you? Him, the victim, all of it! It’s all just some kind of game to you isn’t it?! You keep claiming you represent justice but from what I’ve heard you’ve had a problem with that. This is something else though, where is the justice in this Shaoni, where! I don’t pretend to know what you’ve been through over the years Justice, but this isn’t right. If it was up to me this man should be let go so he doesn’t have you whispering in his ear and you should go back to sleep like you had been years ago.”
I shouted at her, not caring what she would do to me. It felt good though, to finally let her have it, especially after all she’d put me through.
I learned Shaoni’s real name from Bianca but hearing it seemed to make her shrink. The second I said it I had her full attention.
“No! You don’t understand Keith! These people were terrible, guilty of their own crimes. I found them both and offered them a deal. Submit to my judgment or do something for me and face the judgment of another. They got their punishments, I’m no monster!”
She roared back, the beginning of tears brimming in her eyes.
“Guilty or not you used them like pawns Justice! None of this is right, there’s no justice in it, no right and wrong. It’s just a game to you! Don’t you see this is wrong!”
I yelled at her again.
“DON’T YOU USE THAT NAME!”
She thundered back.
“Would you prefer Vengeance?!”
I added, shattering her.
The mention of that name brought Shaoni to tears and she lost her temper. She threw her hand out toward the man still zip tied on the ground in an act of anger. The tattoos on her arms glowed with a blue, ghostly light. The energy grew until a bolt of lightning arced from the tattoos, filling the room with the scent of ozone. The bolt hit the man in the head, searing the skin of his face black in an instant as his body went still.
“You don’t understand, all those years, all those mistakes. Do you know what that…!”
Shaoni started to scream to me again, but she was cut off by the sound of vehicles above us and the cracks of gunfire.
I looked around in surprise, still in shock after the brutal death of the murderer in front of me. I saw Katrina holding her own walkie talkie and smiling.
“Looks like my ride is here, time to end this little charade. Keith, I’d suggest running if I where you. Shaoni, I’d say its been fun but you’re the whole reason they sent me out here in the first place. You’ve been way too much trouble but for what its worth, good luck.”
Katrina hissed at the two of us. Robert, John, and I were stunned, even Shaoni herself seemed shocked back to reality by whatever was happening. With her piece said, Katrina turned and walked out of the mine, towards the growing sounds of shouting and gunfire coming from outside.

Previous Part
By the time I’d woke up bright and early at 4 A.M., Rocco had amassed an impressive pile of pilfered food in the corner of the tepee. He was just dragging in a turkey leg when I saw him, must’ve been at it all night form the looks of it.
“Rocco, what the hell!”
I shouted, waving my hands at the pile of food he’d brought in.
“I told you to stay out of trouble, lay low. This is… not that!”
I complained, trying to think of how I’d talk my way out of this if anyone asked about the missing food. Rocco simply responded by shrugging, turning around, and diving face first into the mountain of food. I was annoyed at the moment but then I got to thinking. If Rocco stole all that and no one saw him what else could he do without being noticed?
“Hey… hey Rocco no-one saw you stealing all this right?”
I asked, grabbing his tail and dragging him out of the food mountain.
“WHATS DA BIG IDEA!”
He protested, flailing around as I held him in the air by his tail before regaining his composure and adding.
“I’m a profesional, of course I didn’t get seen. Why?! Did someone say something!?
Rocco shot his head from side to side, like he would find someone listening or critiquing his heist. All the movement causing him to spin slowly, still dangling from his tail.
“No, I was just thinking, as long as your out here I could have a job for you.”
I said, setting him down as he answered,
“Whad’ya mean? Spit it out!”
with his classic charm.
“I mean, I want you to sneak into that blonde guy’s tepee. The one with the shitty attitude, Brooke I think his name was. Just see if you can find anything in there.”
I could see Rocco’s interest was peaked but he still had one last all to predictable question.
“What’s in it for me?”
“You keep whatever you find in there no questions asked.”
Before the words even left fully my lips Rocco cried, “DEAL” and sprinted out of the tepee on all fours, leaving me alone.
I wasn’t really sure what the process was now, was Shaoni going to come get us or did she expect us to meet her in the coliseum? I’d never been part of anything like this before, I had no idea what the attendance policy was like. So, lacking anything better to do, I walked down into the mines and waited in the coliseum. It was obvious they were’t really ready for us yet. A few of Shaoni’s people were down there placing cactus looking things into five carved wooden bowls on the floor. Five bowls, five people in these trials so those had to have something to do with us. I looked around the room, trying to find Shaoni. She wasn’t up on her perch like yesterday and she certainly wasn’t part of the small group setting up those bowls. I felt a little different about her now that we’d had a chance to talk. Before I’d been afraid of her, and for good reason, but she seemed to want the opposite of that. Maybe not from me specifically but in general. Although, how could you not be scared of someone who could turn into a giant bird and seemed to consistently be the cause of freak storms. There was a lot of power to her but she didn’t want people to be afraid of it, she wanted respect. I’m sure there was more to her that I hadn’t heard but I certainly was going to hear anything new here.
Seeing as I was still apparently early, I decided not to wear out my welcome in the coliseum. I made my way back out of the mines and settled down back at that canvas tent with the huge table. It was again filled with food that had come from nowhere in particular, probably set up by more of Shaoni’s people. As if to confirm my suspicion, the bandaged man Bianca had stabbed earlier emerged from the camp, walking towards me with a platter of bacon. He starred daggers at me as he placed the platter at the table but didn’t say anything. I was almost tempted to apologize on Bianca’s behalf but I got the sense that wouldn’t be a great idea. Not long after I saw two of the others approaching.
“… Sure, but for some glorified tent it’s still pretty comfortable.”
Brooke said to Katrina who looked thoroughly uninterested in what he had to say.
Brooke wore a… purple suit that made him look like some stereotypical version of a pimp. I couldn’t think of any reason he’d wear that out here, at least no-one would mistake him from anyone else, that ’s for sure. Katrina wore an equally confusing getup, a blue tank top and jeans that made her look kinda like the girl from those tomb raider games. It was about 50 degrees out and probably wasn’t going to get much warmer. If she wanted to freeze, so be it. I gave a slight nod to them as they sat down across from me. Katrina still eyeing Brooke with an expression that begged for him not to open his mouth again.
I couldn’t stop staring at her, no not like that, I was staring at her belt where a holster sat,
“You like it?”
She asked, noticing the staring that I should’ve been trying harder to hide, drawing the handgun from the holster on her hip.
“Beretta M9 semi-automatic pistol, my father’s service pistol actually. Always served me well, so I always keep it on me, well almost always.”
She said with a wink, checking the gun and pulling back its slide. I wasn’t all that familiar with guns but I distinctly saw her flip the safety off. Which had a profound effect on my nerves considering I was staring down its barrel.
“They let you keep that around here? I would’ve thought they take that from you.”
I asked incredulously, still eyeing the gun she had pointed at me.
“I hid it on me yesterday, if they have an issue with it they can try and take it from me. I’m not doing anything like this without some kind of insurance. They get me and Luke or nothing at all.”
She retorted, spinning the gun back into her holster and turning the safety back on with a practiced hand. “Oh that’s cute, she named it” I thought sarcastically as my nerves settled, a loaded gun no longer pointed directly at my face.
“I’m not sure Shaoni would let you leave, even if you wanted to.”
“Oh please! She wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me or she’d have bigger problems coming her way.”
Katrina laughed, throwing her hand back in seemingly genuine amusement. She really didn’t have a care about the Thunderbird? I found that hard to believe.
“So what do you do anyways then? If you’re so sure she wouldn’t touch you.”
I asked incredulously. This seemed to grab her attention as she immediately snapped her head down, locking eyes with me and barking,
“That’s a need to know thing and you don’t.”
Before returning her attention to the food on the table and ignoring me. She was military, that was probably a safe assumption.
Brooke had been listening in to our conversation as he ate. After Katrina snapped at me he finally spoke up.
“So hang on, you came all the way out here with no insurance, no protection? Does anyone even know you’re out here?”
I briefly thought about Rocco, he wasn’t great insurance but he sure came cheap. I hadn’t stopped to think about preparing anything to bring out here with me. I just stupidly assumed everyone was on the same page as me, an unprepared fish out of water.
“No, I guess not.”
I responded, a little shaken at the realization that everyone here was probably more prepared than me.
“You must be stupid or have balls of steel to do something like that.”
Brooke told me, reaching over the table to clap me on the shoulder. I didn’t know if this really was the Brooke Bianca told me about or not but I really did not like this guy. We ate the rest of our breakfast in silence. John and Robert never showed up but I guessed they were down in the mines helping set everything up. I guess being a participate in the trials didn’t exempt Shaoni's followers from having to help get ready for them.
Apparently my guess was right because Robert and John were both already in the coliseum when the three of us arrived. Shaoni was once again up on the balcony and all of the people that had been there earlier were gone. I could clearly see what was in the five bowls now. It was some kind of small cactus thing with a white-pink flower at the top. I’d never seen anything like it before but it did seem a little out of place.
“This is your first trial, the trial of morals. This trial is meant to show us where your morals lie through visions of the past and beyond. Sometimes the plant has a mind of its own though so I don’t expect anyone will have the same experience. Some may not even serve the purpose of the trial but the vision is more important than anything I hoped to learn.”
Shaoni spoke like an announcer from above us.
“There is a plant there for each of you, peyote plants that I had grow for just this occasion. Each of you will eat one of the plants and they will give you visions. You will walk among the spirits and they will show you what you need to see.”
Shaoni finished, like she hadn’t just asked us to take hallucinogenics in an unfamiliar environment surrounded by people we didn’t really trust. I wasn’t a huge fan of being here when I was in control of my faculties but while experiencing a vision, oh no, fat chance. Then again it wasn’t like I had all that much of a choice, I realized just before I opened my mouth to protest.
“Fine but what does that tell you about us? Sure we can go get high for you here but it doesn’t really help anyone.”
Brooke spoke up, taking his usual disrespectful tone with Shaoni.
“I have my ways of knowing, but this experiences is for you. It should tell you more about yourself than it will tell me but I assure you, I will learn something.”
An annoyed but composed Shaoni responded. With that she turned and left us to our task.
“So does anyone want to go first?”
Katrina asked, putting a finger to her nose, inviting anyone else to go first.
“Not so fast sweetcheeks, I don’t trust any of you so how about you take the first crack at it?”
Brooke pointedly suggested. I think Katrina wanted to throw a haymaker at his face right then but I stepped in first.
“What if we all did it at once? Then no one is waiting around and I highly doubt she would let anyone come down here and do anything to us if these trials are that important to her.”
I reasoned, pointing up at the balcony Shaoni had been standing on.
“I still don’t like it but I can live with that, I agree everyone at once like… what’s your name?”
“Keith”
“Everyone at once like Keith said.”
Commanded Katrina, looking everyone in the eye and daring them to challenge her. I didn’t know what she did before coming here but whatever it was gave her a glare even Shaoni would be proud of. No-one hesitated to walk up to their respective bowls and take a bite of the strange pinkish flower at the top of the cactus.
The effects weren’t immediate, John just ate his flower then knelt by his bowl, eyes closed waiting for the vision to come. Robert leaned against the wall looking at his watch, seemingly judging the time before it took effect.
“It’s not my first time with peyote, I’ll probably stay up a little longer than you guys.”
Brooke bragged to the room, taking a seat by his bowl as Katrina and I did the same.
Poetically, Brooke was actually the first of us to go down for the count. I had to resit the urge to stand up and kick the crumpled up purple ball that was formerly Brooke. I don’t think anyone would have stopped me, heck the way Katrina was glaring at him this morning she might’ve joined in. But given what came next it was probably a good idea I didn’t stand. All of a sudden the room began flashing different colors, orange then brown then blue. I felt like I was falling but I hadn’t moved. Eventually a sensation came over me, like I had stood up but I was acutely aware of the fact that my body was really lying on the floor of the coliseum. As my vision cleared I started to recognize things, sights and sounds of a hospital room. It would seem my vision had started by bringing me back to my father.
I inched through the hospital room, sure of what I’d see on the other side of the thin curtain. A heart monitor beeped, just the same as the first and last time I’d been in this room. I saw my father, splayed across the bed no different than the only time I’d been in this room. I’ve always maintained that my family life was generally normal, anything that lay outside of that box of normality could be attributed to my father. He was never what I’d call a good person. Sure, he was never aggressive towards me but it didn't really count for anything. You could tell he never really wanted me. What he did to my mother, that was another story. He came home drunk almost every night and she end up with a black eye or worse at least once a week. Unfortunately for us he had a good job, he paid the bills and my mother and I couldn’t really support ourselves on our own back then. Worse still my mother always told me she put up with it for my sake when I asked her about it. That meant I always felt partially responsible every time I heard a fist meet skin in the room below mine.
My father had ended up in this bed by way of a drunk driving incident. Funnily enough it wasn’t actually his fault. He just so happened to be in the wrong intersection at the wrong time when a box truck plowed right into him. The accident left him with severe brain and spinal damage. It was a sick joke he survived, not a miracle. He’d be on life support from now on. I could’ve made him pay for everything he did with the simple tug of a cable. The only reason I didn’t was that the owner of the company that employed the box truck driver offered to pay all his medical bills. He must not have looked to closely because my fathers insurance was covering all of it. But every week a hefty check came in the mail anyways. As long as he was alive and in that hospital bed, me and my mother could live comfortably. It wasn’t really the right thing to do but I figured it was what my mother deserved after years of putting up with his abuse.
The heart monitor’s shrill beeping focused me back to the situation. I stood over my father’s body, the old urge to just pull the plug washing over me again.
“It would be so easy. Mom’s fine now, you’re managing, why do you still need him?”
I thought to myself, toying with the idea as another voice spoke in my head, Shaoni’s voice.
“He’s earned it, he ruined years of your mother’s life, Its only fair he pay a price for what he did.”
I looked around for the source of her voice but I saw nothing, maybe I was just hearing things, it was just a vision after all right? I looked down to see I was now on the opposite side of the bed, hand reaching toward the cord that powered the life support. Time seemed to move at a crawl, was this really the best option? He was probably solely responsible for the distance between my mother and I, he beat her so many times. Some of the blame for it even sat on my shouldres, would killing him take that away? Could I live with myself if I did this? Knowing I took the easy way out at his expense. No… I couldn’t, it would make me just as bad as him. It just wasn’t right I shouldn’t be the one to decide if he dies. Besides, whatever sliver of sentience remained in him deserved to watch as he shriveled and died in his own way, in some ways that was far worse but he didn’t deserve an easy way out either. The room spun as I made my choice and pulled my hand back from the plug. Sending my vision spiraling as my body collapsed to the cold hospital floor. When I finally fought my way through my spinning vision and back to my feet I was somewhere else. I was in Imalone and if I had to guess it was the night I first saw Shaoni.
I was somewhere in the town square where I got chained into the wooden monstrosity the cultists had made. Shaoni was circling in the sky so I guess I was watching this memory from outside of myself. I was made absolutely sure of this when I saw myself being carried out of the old rotting bar. I watched as the situation played out exactly as I remembered it. Right up until Shaoni landed and came to speak with the one masked cultist. What had been gibberish to me before was suddenly crystal clear english.
“What IS this! You think this is right!? This is what you think I stand for, human sacrifice?!”
Shaoni shouted with such intensity and force I jumped back, looking for a place to take cover.
“Brother Aaron foretold your approach, this outsider wandered in so we thought he would make an excellent gift to you.”
The masked cultist answered, missing the point entirely as Shaoni’s eyes flashed with fury.
“There will be a sacrifice alright, a price must be paid for everything you’ve done here. You have no understanding of what I stand for, You’ve spit in the face of it in fact and for that, each and every one of you will make a sacrifice. Release that poor boy, NOW!”
Shaoni commanded the cultists with a voice so stern I almost ran to try and free the trapped version of myself. None of them budged, they didn’t even seem to realize what kind of danger they were in. Shaoni strode past them over to me where she offered me her all to familiar deal. I was stunned, I never stopped to think that she fully intended to let me go either way. Sure, now I knew that these guys weren’t her usual followers. I still never thought she came here intending to wipe them out. I didn’t really have a chance to dwell on it. Before I knew it Shaoni was transforming again causing a tornado to appear in the middle of town as lightning struck around the area like machine gun fire. As the wall of wind rain and lighting reached me I felt a familiar falling sensation and blacked out again.
When I came to I was back on the cave floor again. I wasn’t sure if I was still in a vision until I felt a sharp kick to my side.
“Oh… that felt… very real. Oh god why?”
I groaned as I looked up at the smirking Katrina.
“He’s awake, that’s everyone then.”
She called out to the rest of the group who were all standing around me. She and the others walked off in the direction of the exit, leaving me there on the floor. With nothing better to do I followed them out. Outside the full moon had shown itself, bathing the camp in shimmering moonlight. Shaoni walked up to greet all of us who’d just collectively decided to just go outside.
“You’ve all made it through it would seem, I hope your experiences weren’t to unpleasant.”
Brooke charged straight past her, I could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. Obviously he’d seen something he didn’t like while he was under the influence of that plant. Katrina seemed completely unaffected, marching by Shaoni filled with the same confidence she had when I first saw her. Robert and John seemed completely unaffected by whatever they had seen but something told me they might be used to it. Me, I wasn’t doing so great. I wasn’t all that pleased about revisiting my father and all those old memories and whatever that flower was called had really done a number on me. I weakly waved to Shaoni as I walked by, just trying to focus on walking straight. She didn’t seem to surprised that none of us wanted to talk to her. She didn’t say anything to us as we all quietly sat and ate. I didn’t like the silence, it felt like everyone was just waiting for something to happen but no-one had any idea what. So I got up and headed back to my tepee, maybe Rocco had turned something up on Brooke.
Rocco was waiting for me atop his mountain of food when I got back.
“I found somethin yous might be interested in”
He said triumphantly, waving around a polaroid photo he had clutched in his paw.
“Give that to me!”
I snapped, ripping it right out of his paw.
“Well someones in a mood.”
“Getting drugged will do that to you.”
I snapped as Rocco stared at me, paws on his hips like he was about to give me attitude.
“I’m sorry My heads still just spinning from… well everything today.”
I sighed, holding my head in one hand as I shook it. Apologizing to a raccoon, my life really was something wasn’t it? I looked down to the picture enemy hand and immediately ice shot through my veins. It was a picture of Bianca taken not too long ago by the looks of it. She was walking back into her house in the photo and it looked like it was taken from a passing car. The photo itself isn’t what really concerned me though, the message written on the back did that. “What you seek can be found in the town of Eagles Peak”, the note read in a singsongy way. I’d never seen Shaoni’s handwriting but given the circumstances I was sure that’s what I was looking at.
I looked up at Rocco who looked more serious than I’d ever seen him.
“Now I don’t know what happened to that girl but somethin’ hurt her before we knew her. If that’s the somethin’ that did, and I’m guessin’ it is lookin’ atcha’. I say we should hurt em’ back.”
Rocco told me with cold steel in his voice. It was weird, hearing him speak without a hint of a joke or over exaggerated movement. We finally found something that the little menace to society could focus on, something… productive.
“My hands are tied, I don’t think anyone here would take kindly to me just attacking someone. Besides, look at him, he’s taller and obviously stringer than me. I’m just a scrawny guy who’s way out of his element, I don’t want a fight. Just… keep an eye on him, maybe we can find something to turn the others against him?”
It wasn’t the answer Rocco was looking for, that’s for sure. He deflated at my words, I’m sure he wanted to go in guns blazing and confront Brooke with what we thought we knew. That wasn’t really going to be an option here, even if it was I’d rather not do that.
“Oh, one more thing, Don’t let Brooke go back into town if he tries to leave, I don’t care how you do it just don’t let him leave.”
I added as an evil grin crossed Rocco’s face.
“Aye’ aye’ captain!”
He cried, raising a paw to his head and saluting me.
Just then I heard someone knocking, no rustling? Screwing around with the front flap to the tepee trying to get my attention. I opened it only to see, “Shaoni?”
“I wanted to ask about the visions today, I’ve talked to everyone else but I couldn’t find you so I guessed you’d be at… is that a raccoon?”
Shaoni stopped, seeing Rocco frozen mid step behind me as he tried and failed to run before she saw him. Realizing he’d been seen Rocco twirled around and in a way only he could announced,
“Whatcha’ think you were looking at Pocahontas?”
“Oh? It talks as well?”
Shaoni said, somewhere between bewildered and bemused as she looked between me and the mouthy Raccoon.
“Course I talk! I thought you woulda’ seen somethin’ like that when you were busy painting with all the colors of the wind!”
Rocco yelled back at her. I wasn’t sure if he was actually offended by Shaoni’s questions, or just deliberately trying to be a nuisance, probably the second thing. I whirled around and glared at Rocco, holding my finger to my mouth in an attempt to shut him up. For once he actually listened.
“I… sorry about him, he’s always like that, part of his charm you know.”
I said with a shrug and a nervous chuckle. Shaoni shook her head dismissively and continued.
“Did you see anything in the cave that you wanted to talk about?”
She asked me, now sounding a little annoyed. I thought back to my father and that hospital room, I wasn’t really ready to talk about that with anyone just yet. But I did have some new questions about how I got into this whole mess in the first place.
“You said back in Imalone you saved me because I realized there was a price for being saved. That wasn’t really it though was it? I saw it again, I could understand you this time. You were going to save me regardless. So why mark me Shaoni? Why did you really bring me here?!”
I said, my voice raising outside of my control as I spoke. I had to finally admit to myself that I was sick and tired of being dragged around in the dark. I was suddenly furious and I didn’t care who it was standing in front of me, I wanted an answer.
“Those men were ruining my name, they thought they were following the Thunderbird but it was just some idea of me they had come up with. They used me to justify their horrid actions and I came to put a stop to it. You were there and when I offered you a deal you didn’t fight it. That’s why I marked you.”
Shaoni spoke quickly, like she wanted to avoid the subject, all but turning around and leaving right then.
“Bullshit! I want an answer Shaoni, a real answer!”
I yelled at her, my fury taking full control of me. Shaoni was silent for a minute, when she finally spoke she looked down, never meeting my eyes as she softly said.
“You remind me of someone from a long time ago. They were blind to the way of things at first, an outsider even. In time though, he became what bound our people together as one family. I don’t have a better answer for you than that. I wasn’t sure I should’ve chosen you at first, I had a feeling that day and I followed it. What you’ve done since you’ve got here, how you’ve handled learning what little you know about the world of the supernatural. Those things are what tell me I made the right choice.”
As she walked away I thought I saw tears reflecting in the moonlight shown on her face. As I settled down I swore I heard soft sobs, echoing across the camp long into the night.

First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.

Part 1
First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.

Some of them aren't even jokes.
Reaper ult now does more damage the closer you are to him. 800 across its duration if you're up next to him, 400 at the edges. Imagine killing people with Reaper ult. In this economy.
Alternate Comp modes. As in, you keep standard role que but replace the unlimited mode no one plays or takes seriously with more interesting things. Like a PtR for test ideas and goofy shit that will only be fun for a month or so. Overwatch but each role only has 5 heroes. 6v6 role que but it's GOATS. Blizz would love this, give them a bit of promotion and you have a mini-event whenever you want.
Tank Bastion. Just make him 10% bigger, wiggle his damage numbers a bit, up the boop on his grenade, old ult, and give him an aircraft carrier skin. This idea has gotten worse since the addition Mauga, who does a similar thing but I fucking hate him.
Support Torb loses Overload and gets armor pack back, but now it replaces HP instead of layering armor on top of it. You probably have to scrap the scrap mechanic and put it on a cooldown, but the vision is there.
Bap loses heal burst because what a fucking boring ability, and gains Full Auto. At the cost of slowing his grenade shots his gun shoots faster for a bit. Or you could just give him a boopless Coach Gun. He's an army type gunshoot guy, he should get a gun ability.
This isn't a fix but speedboost is such a good ability and it haunts me that I can't think of another way to do it that isn't just Lucio again.
Lifeweaver loses Petal. A support shouldn't have two abilities to move people around. I don't know why I feel this way but I strongly think it's the right call. My first idea to replace it is Bramble, he throws a little ball of vines that covers an area and slows enemies. But that's off the top of my head.
Iliari loses heal turret and gains a Genji dash. Is this balanced? Who fucking cares, gun-sword needs to do more than be a melee animation.
Old Orissa Old Orissa Old Orissa Old Orissa.
Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
EDIT: Moira Doomslayer. She charges at you and grabs you, imobilising you both for a second or so as she steals health. And also fix the rest of her somehow.

Rough start from Kremer last night. Combo of not being able to put away batters with 2 strikes and getting squeezed by the ump makes for a pretty frustrating start. They happen though and hopefully it doesn't phase him. Get after the Cards tonight with Bradish on the bump and some runs. Seems the trend is alternating hot offense cold offense. Tonight's offense will be on fire. I can feel it.
Umm, congrats (?) I guess to u/jjk2 (6-4) for a +/- 1 guess last night.
Lucky Guess Standings

Rank	User	Exact	'+/- 1	Lost Tiebreaker	Points
1	u/Global_Painter1020	2	3	0	15
2	u/TommyPickles2222222	1	1	0	7
3	u/ngmatt21	1	0	0	6
3	u/kingfiasco	1	0	0	6
3	u/gnarkilleptic	1	0	0	6
3	u/Efficient_Wishbone93	1	0	0	6
3	u/DudeFoSho	0	4	1	6
3	u/jjk2	0	4	1	6
4	u/King_Clitoris	0	1	1	3
5	u/Sufficient_Expert333	0	0	1	2
5	u/malkusm	0	2	0	2
5	u/uncleslam7	0	2	0	2
5	u/Bmoreorioles1	0	2	0	2
5	u/OrangeBuffalo8	0	2	0	2
6	u/samir_katta	0	1	0	1
6	u/ngmatt21	0	1	0	1
6	u/Jormmy-NcKegHook	0	1	0	1
6	u/jeffreythecat1	0	1	0	1
6	u/Jeff_Banks_Monkey	0	1	0	1
6	u/Individual_Step6688	0	1	0	1
6	u/hiyazz	0	1	0	1
6	u/EarthquakeJake94	0	1	0	1
6	u/DaddyHausen	0	1	0	1
6	u/BowynArrow	0	1	0	1
6	u/bmorebetta	0	1	0	1
6	u/DrDinglberry	0	1	0	1
6	u/ThatTinyGameCubeDisc	0	1	0	1
6	u/VoteForWaluigi	0	1	0	1
6	u/Iciclewind	0	1	0	1
6	u/joystick13	0	1	0	1
6	u/MrTallGreg	0	1	0	1
6	u/Jnbrkt	0	1	0	1
6	u/Impressive-Tank9803	0	1	0	1
6	u/imean	0	1	0	1
6	u/DrThorntonMelon	0	1	0	1

Comments must include:

• Final Score (winner must be specified)
  
• Tiebreaker question
  
• Format: [Score] [Winner] [Tiebreaker]
  

All guesses must be submitted by the posted start time to qualify.
Score will be as follows:

• Exact guess = 6 points
  
• Off by one run = 1 point
  
• In the event of a tie, the loser of the tiebreaker scores 2 points
  

If two users pick the same score with the same tiebreaker, the person who submitted their guess first will be awarded the 6 points. The same rule will apply when two tiebreakers guesses are equally close to the actual result.
Score will be tallied each night and submitted to the post-game thread (sometimes). They will also appear in the "Standings" section of future Lucky Guess posts.

Now let's play ball!

Tiebreaker for today's game is strikes thrown by Kyle Bradish.

As always, please do not upvote any guessing comment until after the game is over and the winner is determined, then upvote the winner.

Matchup Statistics

You can find the lineups here before game time.
Orioles

Starting Pitcher	Throws	W-L	IP	K%	BB%	GB%	BABIP	FIP
Kyle Bradish	R	0-0	13.2	27.9%	9.8%	57.1%	.333	2.42

Cardinals

Starting Pitcher	Throws	W-L	IP	K%	BB%	GB%	BABIP	FIP
Lance Lynn	R	1-2	45.1	21.3%	9.9%	38.5%	.313	4.43

Good luck!

Hey! I m planing on starting to make dioramas what other things do I need this is my list:

• Self Healing cutting mat
• Snap Off Blade Knife
• Craft Knife
• Retractable Knife
• Measuring Tape
• Metal Ruler
• Set square
• Side Cutters
• Mini Wire Cutters
• Long Nose Pliers
• Adjustable Wrench
• Wire stippers
• Tin Snips
• Pin Vice
• Power Drill
• Tweezers
• Curved Tip Tweezers
• PVA Glue
• Grab Adhesive
• Wood Glue
• Mod Podge Gloss and Matte
• Super Glue
• Plastic Cement
• Hot Glue Gun 11mm
• Atomiser
• Plastic Squeeze Bottle
• Pipette
• Metal Files
• Sandpaper
• Nail Files
• Polystyrene
• XPS Foam
• Fine Casting Powder
• Sculptamold
• Various Cleaning products
• Nitrile Gloves
• Acrylic Paint
• Oil Paint
• Box of Various Odds and Ends
• Modelling materials, Flocks, Lichen, Static Grass etc
• Hair Dryer
• Various Airbrushes and paint
• Hot Wire Cutter
• Rotary Tool + Accessories
• Mini compressor for the airbrush
• Figures

She got up in the dark, with only the dim ambience of soft blue lighting to accompany her. She stretched all four arms, her two legs, and rolled her neck. It struck her as mildly interesting in that moment, how something so small could connect them to humans, The thought was fleeting as she took another step forward to kneel down on the floor. There, in a little alcove in the wall, she had set a volcanic rock from Anin, dried moss, and other paraphernalia from her home world. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath resting her hands together.
Praise and respect to the spirits of Anin. Praise the fathers and mothers of war gone to their rest below the moss and the earth. Praise their spirits that watch from the sky and peer through the ether down upon us.
She continued the slow mantra in the style of Prayer learned from Naktan and pulled her concentration to her core, ignoring anything and everything around her. A deep state of meditation overtook her. She would never have done this if she thought there were any chance that she was in danger, but below she knew Earth glowed like a sphere before their orbiting ship. There was no worry of invasion.
She thought she heard something at one point, but chose to ignore it as she continued her mantra.
Eventually, and after an unknown amount of minutes, she stood and turned slowly to find-
She stopped, and crossed her arms over her chest.
"What are you doing?”
Adam burrowed his way further down into her blankets, nuzzling his head up against her pillow,
"So warm, and comfy!"
She tried not to smile,
"You dumbass."
He pulled the blankets tighter around himself,
"You know, I did come here to talk to you, but now I actually am really comfortable, so come back in two hours."
"I- This is MY home!"
He closed his eyes and pretended to snore loudly.
She rolled her eyes as she watched him theatrically pretend to sleep. She looked around mildly for a moment, before picking up another pillow and glancing at the door. She casually walked over, dropped the pillow on his head and then held it down as if she intended to smother him.
”Die human scum!”
That got him up and moving.
Before long the two of them were grappling for the upper hand, him trying to put her in a choke hold, and her using her lower arms to pinch him.
He yelped,
"Ouch! Pinching is illegal!”
"Sissy."
He clamped his legs around her lower arms, pinning them in place.
She struggled for a minute and then went limp.
She could feel his smug smile,
"I win, I beat the saint of Anin. Everyone bow at my feet."
"You say that, but if this were a real fight, since you’re a human male, you're the one with a self-destruct button."
"Self-destruct button...?"
"Meaning if this were a real fight, I would have punched you in the balls."
"Yaoooutch… Oh god… Please don't."
Finally, he let her go, leaving the two of them to lay on her bed, sheets scattered on the floor around them, and her pillows in disarray. Adam put his hands behind his head and sighed.
She glanced over at him,
"I don't suppose you came to just hang out. Here on Admiral-ly business?"
He groaned, pulling one of her pillows over his face,
"Please smother me for real this time."
She leaned up on one of her elbows,
"Why?"
"I don't wanna be an adult anymore!"
She tilted her head to the side, watching in amusement as he attempted to throw a childlike tantrum, but only really had the energy to kick his feet once,
"It's boring and lame and they won’t let me wear heelies to important meetings... also children don't have to pay taxes."
She laughed, pulling the pillow from his face,
"Adam you are many things, but 'adult' is not one of them."
He grinned slightly,
"True enough."
He sighed again and rested his head back against the pillows,
"I just want to get back to what we are supposed to be doing, exploring the universe and making cool alien friends."
He threw up his hands in frustration,
"But suddenly I find myself embroiled in stupid annoying politics that I don't understand, being used by people who are, let’s face it, WAY smarter than me, constantly finding myself getting manipulated."
She huffed,
"They aren't smarter than you Adam, they're just manipulative, and you aren't."
He sighed,
"Fair enough."
Then he looked at her, bright green eyes reflecting the soft ambient blue light,
"I just, I miss this, I miss us, I miss hanging out and doing stupid shit, and all of the things I could do when I wasn't so important and this operation was smaller."
She smiled rather sadly reaching one hand over for his, lacing the four of her fingers through the five of his,
"Well someone has to do the hard things, who better than you?”
He glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow,
"Or you, miss saint?”
She rolled her eyes again,
"Can't seem to get you off of that. I'm still the same person I used to be."
"But with power."
She elbowed him gently and he grinned,
"But really, I am proud and impressed and... Let's be honest super super smug that 'I' know you personally."
"I know, I am pretty terrific."
The two of them laughed for a minute before settling down again. He glanced over to her little shrine on the wall,
"What were you doing just then?"
She looked up at the ceiling, following the lines of metal and rivets with her eyes,
"Praying to the spirits of Anin."
Embarrassed, he shifted,
"I didn't know you were... Well I didn't think you were all that religious?"
She shrugged,
"Don't feel bad, it's sort of a new thing. Back before all this, it was sort of just stories to me. Like I believed it because that was what everyone believed, but I didn't really accept it, or feel it the way I do now. After everything with my mother, it was hard to feel connected to something I felt I wasn't a part of... But then after visiting my mother, after becoming a saint for a religion I never really followed... Well, it started to make more sense. It feels real now in a way that it never did."
She turned to look at him, finding him watching her, the UV blue stripes in his skin glowing blue.
"I believe in the spirits of Anin more than I ever have."
He smiled at her and squeezed her hand,
"I'm glad to hear it."
They lapsed into silence for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling before, inevitably he broke it,
"So this makes you like, space Moses right?”
She frowned and turned to look at him,
"What is a “Moses”?"
He grinned,
"A guy from one of the Earth Religions. You know, guy follows god's directions to lead his people away from slavery, climbs a mountain, receives the word of god, comes down to give it to the people, that sort of thing."
Sunny tilted her head slightly to the side,
"Are you religious?"
He paused, frowning,
"I... well I... don't really know. My family has been some flavor of Christian for a long time."
"Christian?"
"Uh yeah, the general idea is that there is one all-powerful deity who created everything. He has rules and laws that you are supposed to follow, the general tenants of this specific religion mostly boil down to: love everyone and don't be a dick, which humans are notoriously bad at. You sin you go to hell, a very bad place after you die, and if you are a good person you go to heaven. Problem is everyone is a sinner and breaks the rules, so really no one was going to get into heaven."
"That sounds bleak..."
"Well, that's where the other stuff comes in. Basically, this all-powerful deity sent down his son in human form to live a perfect life, so when he was martyred he took on the sins of all of humanity and paid for them in the greatest act of mercy to open the gate for the rest of us into heaven."
Sunny shifted as he tilted to the side to lay in the crook of her arms,
"Of course that is just one religion among tons on earth, we aren't really as cohesive in our beliefs as Drev are... As for me... I'm not really sure."
She tilted her head to the side, cheek resting against his hair,
"After seeing space, I become more and more convinced of some... Thing that created everything, but beyond that it's sort of a tossup."
She ran one hand through his hair, coarse but still soft somehow.
"You know my name comes from that religion?”
She turned her head to look at him,
"Oh, really?”
"Adam was the first man."
"What do you mean!?”
Adam shrugged,
"He was supposedly the first man that god created, from the dust of the earth... I think?"
She gave him a sidelong glance,
"Look, and you get to be the first idiot in space."
He snorted and poked her in the ribs.
"There were PLENTY of idiots in space before me, believe you me."
"Mmm I don't know, you are pretty dumb."
He laughed, grabbing a pillow and hitting her with it. She rolled over so she was lying on top of him and then went limp.
He struggled,
"Get your big ass off me."
"Oh no, I have been attacked by a sudden acute case of the “my spine doesn't work anymore”-disease."
"If you don't move, you'll suddenly find yourself with a case of “fist in your face”-disease."
She laughed and rolled off him, making sure the hard parts of her carapace were sticking down for maximum discomfort.
He grunted.
They returned to lying down next to each other in the half darkness. Sunny reached over and turned on some quiet music in the background as the two of them sat and talked, and laughed.
"I can't wait to get back to deep space."
He closed his eyes and hummed softly at the thought,
"Just the crew and the darkness and nothing ahead of us but an endless frontier."
Surprisingly, she found the thought to be more than a little comforting, and closed her eyes thinking about the vast reaches of blackness and the endless spinning galaxies.
"And while we are out, we can drop Conn into a pulsar."
He snorted,
“Why? Well first of for scientific reasons! If a marshmallow causes a nuclear blast, I wonder what dropping Conn would do… but at least he’d be dead.”
"That billowy bastard would survive and you know it."
She huffed,
"Still though, if I have to hear one more smug lecture how he has a child with you, I'm gonna wring his scrawny neck."
He grinned teeth flashing blue in the light,
"Is someone... Jealous?"
Sunny laughed, almost tipping him off the bed and onto the floor with her mirth,
"Yes Adam, I am totally jealous, really I am, ‘kay?. I mean who wouldn't want to have a child with YOU, big dumb, dork. Really the perfect place to put my superior genes."
"Superior genes, says someone who can't reach the top shelf."
She kicked him, foot clanging off his prosthetic,
"I am a foot taller than you."
He placed his hand next to his ear,
"What was that, I can't hear you over how short you are."
Sunny shook her head,
"At least I have binocular vision and both my knees."
"So we are gonna ignore that that binocular vision is due to a prosthetic now after the whole “your mom” incident? And also, veeery important: weird neck nostrils, don't forget about those!"
"Oh yes, so I can’t house them on my face like you and your bigass nose."
"Low blow, low blow."
"There are... Lower things... I could make fun of."
He snorted,
"Can't make fun of it if you've never seen it. You on the other hand, walking around in the nude..."
"You're welcome. Who wouldn't love…"
She gestured to herself,
"This."
"Mmm yeah... chitin, very sexy."
"I am a gift to the universe, and should be appreciated by everyone."
He brushed a hand through his hair,
"Well I find that real gifts are gift wrapped, so jot that down."
"Oh yeah, like a prank gift when you put something lame in a box for something cool."
He frowned at her,
"You wound me. My feelings are so very very hurt. I might even cry."
"I drink human tears."
"That… that's really gross.'
She laughed and then they lapsed into silence. She could hear him breathing quietly next to her in the darkness, his chest rising and falling under the ambient blue light. She looked across the room to where her saint armor was hanging in its climate-controlled case illuminated to a pearly sheen.
"Adam?"
"Yeah?”
"You know I'm just kidding about calling you dumb right?"
"Yeah I know."
"I'm proud of what you've been doing."
Adam turned to look at her rather incredulous,
"Me, of what? I haven't been doing shit."
"So, we are just going to ignore you overthrowing a maniacal politician while simultaneously piloting a 2,000 year old spacecraft?"
"That was more Conn and Eris than it was me."
"It was your idea."
"Let’s not forget Admiral Kelly."
Sunny pulled him closer,
"I am sorry, I will not be accepting anything other than you acknowledging that you did a good job."
"Screw you!”
"You'd like that wouldn't you?”
He sighed,
"You've been talking to Ramirez WAY too much."
She was only slightly smug as she rested her head back against the pillow,
"I really should get up and train..."
"We should yeah..."
Neither of them moved.
"Alternatively, we could just... Lay here... All day and do... nothing."
She looked up at the ceiling for a long moment and pretended to be in deep contemplation before…
"Well it's official, you have convinced me. You and your silver tongue."
"I am a master negotiator."
He shifted position putting one arm behind his head,
"Think about it, by this time tomorrow we will be back to space exploring and doing what we should have been doing all along. I can't wait."
"That makes two of us."
Previous First [Next](link)
Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Intro post by me
OC-whole collection
Patreon of the author

FYI, this is a story COLLECTION. Lots of standalones technically. So, you can basically start to read at any chapter, no pre-read of the other chapters needed technically (other than maybe getting better descriptions of characters than: Adam Vir=human, Krill=antlike alien, Sunny=tall alien, Conn=telepathic alien). The numbers are (mostly) only for organization of posts and continuity.
OC Written by Charlie Stastarrfallknightrise,
Typed up and then posted here by me.
Proofreading and language check for some chapters by u/Finbar9800 u/BakeGullible9975 u/Didnotseemecomein and u/medium_jock
Future Lore and fact check done by me.
Awwwww! So cute!
Previous First [Next](link)
Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
She got up in the dark, with only the dim ambience of soft blue lighting to accompany her. She stretched all four arms, her two legs, and rolled her neck. It struck her as mildly interesting in that moment, how something so small could connect them to humans, The thought was fleeting as she took another step forward to kneel down on the floor. There, in a little alcove in the wall, she had set a volcanic rock from Anin, dried moss, and other paraphernalia from her home world. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath resting her hands together.
Praise and respect to the spirits of Anin. Praise the fathers and mothers of war gone to their rest below the moss and the earth. Praise their spirits that watch from the sky and peer through the ether down upon us.
She continued the slow mantra in the style of Prayer learned from Naktan and pulled her concentration to her core, ignoring anything and everything around her. A deep state of meditation overtook her. She would never have done this if she thought there were any chance that she was in danger, but below she knew Earth glowed like a sphere before their orbiting ship. There was no worry of invasion.
She thought she heard something at one point, but chose to ignore it as she continued her mantra.
Eventually, and after an unknown amount of minutes, she stood and turned slowly to find-
She stopped, and crossed her arms over her chest.
"What are you doing?”
Adam burrowed his way further down into her blankets, nuzzling his head up against her pillow,
"So warm, and comfy!"
She tried not to smile,
"You dumbass."
He pulled the blankets tighter around himself,
"You know, I did come here to talk to you, but now I actually am really comfortable, so come back in two hours."
"I- This is MY home!"
He closed his eyes and pretended to snore loudly.
She rolled her eyes as she watched him theatrically pretend to sleep. She looked around mildly for a moment, before picking up another pillow and glancing at the door. She casually walked over, dropped the pillow on his head and then held it down as if she intended to smother him.
”Die human scum!”
That got him up and moving.
Before long the two of them were grappling for the upper hand, him trying to put her in a choke hold, and her using her lower arms to pinch him.
He yelped,
"Ouch! Pinching is illegal!”
"Sissy."
He clamped his legs around her lower arms, pinning them in place.
She struggled for a minute and then went limp.
She could feel his smug smile,
"I win, I beat the saint of Anin. Everyone bow at my feet."
"You say that, but if this were a real fight, since you’re a human male, you're the one with a self-destruct button."
"Self-destruct button...?"
"Meaning if this were a real fight, I would have punched you in the balls."
"Yaoooutch… Oh god… Please don't."
Finally, he let her go, leaving the two of them to lay on her bed, sheets scattered on the floor around them, and her pillows in disarray. Adam put his hands behind his head and sighed.
She glanced over at him,
"I don't suppose you came to just hang out. Here on Admiral-ly business?"
He groaned, pulling one of her pillows over his face,
"Please smother me for real this time."
She leaned up on one of her elbows,
"Why?"
"I don't wanna be an adult anymore!"
She tilted her head to the side, watching in amusement as he attempted to throw a childlike tantrum, but only really had the energy to kick his feet once,
"It's boring and lame and they won’t let me wear heelies to important meetings... also children don't have to pay taxes."
She laughed, pulling the pillow from his face,
"Adam you are many things, but 'adult' is not one of them."
He grinned slightly,
"True enough."
He sighed again and rested his head back against the pillows,
"I just want to get back to what we are supposed to be doing, exploring the universe and making cool alien friends."
He threw up his hands in frustration,
"But suddenly I find myself embroiled in stupid annoying politics that I don't understand, being used by people who are, let’s face it, WAY smarter than me, constantly finding myself getting manipulated."
She huffed,
"They aren't smarter than you Adam, they're just manipulative, and you aren't."
He sighed,
"Fair enough."
Then he looked at her, bright green eyes reflecting the soft ambient blue light,
"I just, I miss this, I miss us, I miss hanging out and doing stupid shit, and all of the things I could do when I wasn't so important and this operation was smaller."
She smiled rather sadly reaching one hand over for his, lacing the four of her fingers through the five of his,
"Well someone has to do the hard things, who better than you?”
He glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow,
"Or you, miss saint?”
She rolled her eyes again,
"Can't seem to get you off of that. I'm still the same person I used to be."
"But with power."
She elbowed him gently and he grinned,
"But really, I am proud and impressed and... Let's be honest super super smug that 'I' know you personally."
"I know, I am pretty terrific."
The two of them laughed for a minute before settling down again. He glanced over to her little shrine on the wall,
"What were you doing just then?"
She looked up at the ceiling, following the lines of metal and rivets with her eyes,
"Praying to the spirits of Anin."
Embarrassed, he shifted,
"I didn't know you were... Well I didn't think you were all that religious?"
She shrugged,
"Don't feel bad, it's sort of a new thing. Back before all this, it was sort of just stories to me. Like I believed it because that was what everyone believed, but I didn't really accept it, or feel it the way I do now. After everything with my mother, it was hard to feel connected to something I felt I wasn't a part of... But then after visiting my mother, after becoming a saint for a religion I never really followed... Well, it started to make more sense. It feels real now in a way that it never did."
She turned to look at him, finding him watching her, the UV blue stripes in his skin glowing blue.
"I believe in the spirits of Anin more than I ever have."
He smiled at her and squeezed her hand,
"I'm glad to hear it."
They lapsed into silence for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling before, inevitably he broke it,
"So this makes you like, space Moses right?”
She frowned and turned to look at him,
"What is a “Moses”?"
He grinned,
"A guy from one of the Earth Religions. You know, guy follows god's directions to lead his people away from slavery, climbs a mountain, receives the word of god, comes down to give it to the people, that sort of thing."
Sunny tilted her head slightly to the side,
"Are you religious?"
He paused, frowning,
"I... well I... don't really know. My family has been some flavor of Christian for a long time."
"Christian?"
"Uh yeah, the general idea is that there is one all-powerful deity who created everything. He has rules and laws that you are supposed to follow, the general tenants of this specific religion mostly boil down to: love everyone and don't be a dick, which humans are notoriously bad at. You sin you go to hell, a very bad place after you die, and if you are a good person you go to heaven. Problem is everyone is a sinner and breaks the rules, so really no one was going to get into heaven."
"That sounds bleak..."
"Well, that's where the other stuff comes in. Basically, this all-powerful deity sent down his son in human form to live a perfect life, so when he was martyred he took on the sins of all of humanity and paid for them in the greatest act of mercy to open the gate for the rest of us into heaven."
Sunny shifted as he tilted to the side to lay in the crook of her arms,
"Of course that is just one religion among tons on earth, we aren't really as cohesive in our beliefs as Drev are... As for me... I'm not really sure."
She tilted her head to the side, cheek resting against his hair,
"After seeing space, I become more and more convinced of some... Thing that created everything, but beyond that it's sort of a tossup."
She ran one hand through his hair, coarse but still soft somehow.
"You know my name comes from that religion?”
She turned her head to look at him,
"Oh, really?”
"Adam was the first man."
"What do you mean!?”
Adam shrugged,
"He was supposedly the first man that god created, from the dust of the earth... I think?"
She gave him a sidelong glance,
"Look, and you get to be the first idiot in space."
He snorted and poked her in the ribs.
"There were PLENTY of idiots in space before me, believe you me."
"Mmm I don't know, you are pretty dumb."
He laughed, grabbing a pillow and hitting her with it. She rolled over so she was lying on top of him and then went limp.
He struggled,
"Get your big ass off me."
"Oh no, I have been attacked by a sudden acute case of the “my spine doesn't work anymore”-disease."
"If you don't move, you'll suddenly find yourself with a case of “fist in your face”-disease."
She laughed and rolled off him, making sure the hard parts of her carapace were sticking down for maximum discomfort.
He grunted.
They returned to lying down next to each other in the half darkness. Sunny reached over and turned on some quiet music in the background as the two of them sat and talked, and laughed.
"I can't wait to get back to deep space."
He closed his eyes and hummed softly at the thought,
"Just the crew and the darkness and nothing ahead of us but an endless frontier."
Surprisingly, she found the thought to be more than a little comforting, and closed her eyes thinking about the vast reaches of blackness and the endless spinning galaxies.
"And while we are out, we can drop Conn into a pulsar."
He snorted,
“Why? Well first of for scientific reasons! If a marshmallow causes a nuclear blast, I wonder what dropping Conn would do… but at least he’d be dead.”
"That billowy bastard would survive and you know it."
She huffed,
"Still though, if I have to hear one more smug lecture how he has a child with you, I'm gonna wring his scrawny neck."
He grinned teeth flashing blue in the light,
"Is someone... Jealous?"
Sunny laughed, almost tipping him off the bed and onto the floor with her mirth,
"Yes Adam, I am totally jealous, really I am, ‘kay?. I mean who wouldn't want to have a child with YOU, big dumb, dork. Really the perfect place to put my superior genes."
"Superior genes, says someone who can't reach the top shelf."
She kicked him, foot clanging off his prosthetic,
"I am a foot taller than you."
He placed his hand next to his ear,
"What was that, I can't hear you over how short you are."
Sunny shook her head,
"At least I have binocular vision and both my knees."
"So we are gonna ignore that that binocular vision is due to a prosthetic now after the whole “your mom” incident? And also, veeery important: weird neck nostrils, don't forget about those!"
"Oh yes, so I can’t house them on my face like you and your bigass nose."
"Low blow, low blow."
"There are... Lower things... I could make fun of."
He snorted,
"Can't make fun of it if you've never seen it. You on the other hand, walking around in the nude..."
"You're welcome. Who wouldn't love…"
She gestured to herself,
"This."
"Mmm yeah... chitin, very sexy."
"I am a gift to the universe, and should be appreciated by everyone."
He brushed a hand through his hair,
"Well I find that real gifts are gift wrapped, so jot that down."
"Oh yeah, like a prank gift when you put something lame in a box for something cool."
He frowned at her,
"You wound me. My feelings are so very very hurt. I might even cry."
"I drink human tears."
"That… that's really gross.'
She laughed and then they lapsed into silence. She could hear him breathing quietly next to her in the darkness, his chest rising and falling under the ambient blue light. She looked across the room to where her saint armor was hanging in its climate-controlled case illuminated to a pearly sheen.
"Adam?"
"Yeah?”
"You know I'm just kidding about calling you dumb right?"
"Yeah I know."
"I'm proud of what you've been doing."
Adam turned to look at her rather incredulous,
"Me, of what? I haven't been doing shit."
"So, we are just going to ignore you overthrowing a maniacal politician while simultaneously piloting a 2,000 year old spacecraft?"
"That was more Conn and Eris than it was me."
"It was your idea."
"Let’s not forget Admiral Kelly."
Sunny pulled him closer,
"I am sorry, I will not be accepting anything other than you acknowledging that you did a good job."
"Screw you!”
"You'd like that wouldn't you?”
He sighed,
"You've been talking to Ramirez WAY too much."
She was only slightly smug as she rested her head back against the pillow,
"I really should get up and train..."
"We should yeah..."
Neither of them moved.
"Alternatively, we could just... Lay here... All day and do... nothing."
She looked up at the ceiling for a long moment and pretended to be in deep contemplation before…
"Well it's official, you have convinced me. You and your silver tongue."
"I am a master negotiator."
He shifted position putting one arm behind his head,
"Think about it, by this time tomorrow we will be back to space exploring and doing what we should have been doing all along. I can't wait."
"That makes two of us."
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Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Intro post by me
OC-whole collection
Patreon of the author
Thanks for reading! As you saw in the title, this is a cross posted story written by starrfallknightrise and I'll just upload some of it here for you guys, if you are interested and want to read ahead, the original story-collection can be found on tumblr or wattpad to read for free. (link above this text under "OC:..." ) It is the Empyrean Iris story collection by starfallknightrise. Also, if you want to know more about the story collection i made an intro post about it, so feel free to check that out to see what other great characters to look forward to! (Link also above this text). I have no affiliations to the author; just thought I’d share some of the great stories you might enjoy a lot!
Obviously, I have Charlie’s permission to post this and for the people already knowing the stories, or starting to read them: If you follow the link and check out the story you will see some differences. I made some small (non-artistic) changes, mainly correcting writing mistakes, pronoun correction and some small additional info here and there of things which were not thought of/forgotten or even were added/changed in later stories (like the “USS->UNSC” prefix of Stabby, Chalar=/->Sunny etc). As well as some "biggemajor" changes in descriptions and info’s for the same stringency/continuity reason. That can be explained by the story collection being, well a story collection at the start with many standalone-stories just starring the same people, but later on it gets more to a stringent storyline with backstories and throwbacks. (For example Adam Vir has some HEAVY scars over his body, following his bones, which were not really talked about up till half the collection, where it says it covers his whole body and you find out via backflash that he had them the whole time and how he got them, they just weren't mentioned before. However, I would think a doctor would at least see these scars before that, especially since he gets analyzed, treated and goes shirtless/in T-shirts in some stories). So TLDR: Writing and some descriptions are slightly changed, with full OK from the author, since he himself did not bother to correct these things before.